Lucien should have known better.
This so-called "treasure" was nothing more than a cheaply printed adult magazine.
Honestly—
His grandmother's swimwear showed more skin than this.
Still, considering the current era was far more conservative than the modern world he remembered, Lucien decided not to mock Scamander too harshly.
He casually stuffed the magazine beneath his pillow.
Then went to sleep.
He slept quite peacefully.
Unfortunately—
Someone else at Hogwarts could not sleep at all.
…
Inside the Headmaster's office.
Dumbledore sat alone beneath the dim candlelight.
Several yellowed sheets of parchment trembled faintly in his hands as he read them over and over again.
"Gellert…"
His tired voice sounded almost broken.
"I'm sorry…"
"I truly never imagined things would end like this…"
"If I could choose again…"
His words faded into silence.
Dumbledore slowly leaned back into his chair as though all the strength had drained from his body.
At that moment—
He no longer looked like the legendary Headmaster of Hogwarts.
Nor the greatest white wizard alive.
Only an exhausted old man remained.
A lonely man longing for family.
For companionship.
For someone who would never return.
After a very long silence, he finally closed his eyes and murmured softly,
"You've left me with an impossible problem."
"That child…"
"He looks exactly like you did back then…"
"No."
A bitter smile appeared on his face.
"He's even more exceptional than you were."
Dumbledore lowered his gaze toward the parchment in his hands.
"What am I supposed to do now…"
"…Gellert?"
…
Meanwhile—
Far away atop Nurmengard Tower—
A white-haired old man with mismatched eyes lay comfortably upon a reclining chair beneath the stars.
Completely relaxed.
Enjoying life immensely.
…
The following morning.
Lucien really did not want to wake up this early.
Unfortunately, years of strict habits had already formed an unavoidable biological clock.
Even after reincarnating—
He still could not escape school.
After washing and changing, Lucien headed toward the Great Hall.
The moment he entered, Draco and the others immediately greeted him enthusiastically.
Lucien nodded briefly toward them before walking directly toward Emery Carrow and the prefect seating area.
"Argus!"
From the Gryffindor table, Harry immediately waved excitedly.
"Harry, calm down!"
Percy Weasley quickly grabbed Harry's arm and forced it back down.
"Now isn't the time to greet your best friend."
Harry looked confused.
"Why?"
"Allow us to explain!"
Fred and George suddenly appeared from nowhere and squeezed directly beside Harry, shoving Ron aside mercilessly.
"Every year after the Sorting Ceremony, Slytherin holds a duel competition to determine the First-Year Champion."
"Then the champions fight ranking battles."
"The next morning…"
Fred grinned dramatically.
"Their seating positions reveal the results."
George pointed toward the Slytherin table mysteriously.
"It's a very important tradition."
"Even the professors secretly pay attention to it every year."
Harry followed their gaze.
Sure enough—
Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were quietly conversing while repeatedly glancing toward Slytherin.
"In previous years, people even placed bets on the results."
Fred sighed regretfully.
"Sadly, your dear friend Argus was obviously too monstrous this year."
"Even trolls could predict he'd become the first-year champion."
George suddenly grinned wickedly toward Ron.
"Little Ronnie."
"Fancy a bet?"
Ron instantly became vigilant.
The twins had scammed him far too many times already.
"What kind of bet?"
"We bet how far Argus managed to climb."
Fred smiled temptingly.
"If you win, we'll do your Potions homework for an entire week."
"If you lose…"
George's grin became deeply suspicious.
"You simply lend us Scabbers for two days."
Percy immediately coughed loudly beside them.
Only two days?
Ron instinctively clutched his pocket protectively.
He knew perfectly well what his brothers intended.
The twins constantly needed test subjects for their inventions, but lacked money to buy animals.
Scabbers was the obvious victim.
Unfortunately—
Fred and George were not about to let this opportunity escape.
"Think about it, Ron."
"A whole week without Potions homework."
Fred's tone became increasingly seductive.
"You could spend all week relaxing."
"And with our help…"
George whispered dramatically.
"You might even earn Outstanding grades."
"Just imagine everyone admiring you."
Ron slowly became dizzy from temptation.
Then he remembered hearing earlier that someone had spent the entire night in the Hospital Wing after losing to Argus.
His confidence instantly soared.
Foolish twins.
You already revealed the answer yourselves.
And you still want to scam me?
This time—
He would recover every single loss from the past.
Ron slammed both hands onto the table confidently.
"Fine!"
"I bet Argus only reached second-year level!"
Fred and George exchanged glances.
Then both smiled wildly.
Poor little brother.
After being tricked for so many years—
He still never learned.
Last night, while sneaking food from the Hogwarts kitchens, they had overheard Slytherin students discussing how terrifying Argus had been during the ranking battle.
If he hadn't defeated the third-year champion—
Nobody would speak like that.
"Deal!"
The twins answered instantly in perfect unison.
"We bet he reached third-year level!"
"Harry, you're the witness!"
"Huh? Me?"
Harry looked uncertainly between Ron and the twins before nodding awkwardly.
Meanwhile—
Lucien remained completely unaware of the gambling occurring nearby.
He calmly approached the Slytherin champion seats.
The champion seating area occupied the very front section of the long table.
Countless students secretly watched him.
Everyone wanted to know—
How far had he climbed?
"Filius."
Professor McGonagall folded her arms thoughtfully.
"How far do you believe Mr. Grindelwald reached?"
Flitwick stroked his chin.
"A Ravenclaw student told me he used Accio to summon Mr. Longbottom's toad aboard the train."
McGonagall looked surprised.
"That's well beyond second-year level."
"Exactly."
Flitwick nodded slowly.
"I suspect third-year level is probably accurate."
"He's only eleven."
"Even with early magical education, his magical reserves shouldn't yet rival older students."
McGonagall nodded thoughtfully.
"I agree."
Meanwhile—
Lucien had already passed the fourth seat on the right.
The traditional seat reserved for the first-year champion.
No one reacted strongly.
After all—
Everyone already knew Diderot had been carried to the Hospital Wing last night.
Then Lucien continued walking.
Past the second-year seat.
The Great Hall immediately erupted into discussion.
"He beat the second-year champion too?!"
"That's insane!"
Ron's face immediately turned green.
Fred instantly grabbed him.
"Little Ronnie!"
"You lost!"
George already had one hand reaching toward Ron's robes searching for Scabbers.
"You cheated!"
Ron shrieked furiously.
"You already knew!"
Before the twins could answer—
Harry suddenly spoke.
"Wait…"
"Argus still hasn't stopped."
The entire hall froze.
Lucien calmly continued forward.
Third-year seat.
Passed.
Fourth-year seat.
Passed.
Then—
He finally stopped directly opposite Emery Carrow.
Slytherin's second seat.
Silence swallowed the Great Hall instantly.
Everyone understood what this meant.
The seventh-year champion was rarely present due to graduation matters.
Which meant—
The true highest-ranking active Slytherin currently seated at the table was Emery Carrow herself.
If Lucien sat directly opposite her—
There was only one possible explanation.
Even if the absent fifth-year champion had been present—
Slytherin still believed he would have lost to Lucien Grindelwald.
....
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