At Hogwarts, the story begins with deconstructing Avada Kedavra.

The midnight bells, like a somber lament, echoed through the empty castle corridors.

On the eighth floor, in front of the tapestry depicting the giant beating of Banaba with a stick, there was no one.

Hermione Granger gripped her wand tightly. She stared at the cold stone wall, her breathing rapid.

She was wearing a slightly loose morning gown, which looked particularly thin in the empty and desolate corridor.

Three minutes had passed since the agreed time.

"You've been scammed?"

The thought spread through her mind. A mixture of shame and anger at being fooled welled up inside her.

Like a fool, she broke school rules, used her meager magical reserves to evade Filch's damn cat, and even mentally prepared herself to face some kind of forbidden dark magic...

All they saw was this silly Barnabas trying to teach a troll ballet.

There was no entrance at all, nor was there Lucien, who always wore a mysterious smile.

"I shouldn't have come."

"Hermione, you're so stupid."

She gritted her teeth, her fluffy brown hair appearing even more disheveled due to her anxiety.

"You actually believe that a freshman would kindly tell you the true secrets of the laws of magic and transfiguration?"

She gritted her teeth, pacing anxiously back and forth in the corridor. "I want to go back, immediately, right now. And then throw that damned gold coin into the Black Lake—"

In that instant, an extremely subtle feeling of being watched gave her goosebumps.

It wasn't the malicious spying of Filch, but rather a detached, overlooking gaze and a hint of...invitation?

First turnaround.

What if this were a test?

"If he was just trying to mess with me, he could have just used a curse. There was no need for him to waste time asking me out at this particular time."

"But I need to know that formula... the formula that can overturn Gamp's Law..."

The second turnaround.

Hermione's brain was working at lightning speed

She remembered Lucian, who could effortlessly modify the trajectory of the Levitation Charm in Charms class, defeat trolls with ease, and was always mysterious and able to keep others in check.

"I shouldn't have left."

The third turnaround.

Just as she walked past that stone wall for the third time,

The bricks rubbed together, dust fell in a flurry, and the wall surface became twisted and dented.

Finally, an oak door that had never existed before appeared.

The doorknob is shaped like an ouroboros, with an eerie light gleaming in its copper-green eyes, as if it had been waiting for this moment.

"There really is one."

Hermione's hands trembled, but the desire for the unknown overwhelmed her fear. She pushed open the door.

……

The world behind the door was surprisingly large.

This is a circular library. The dome is soaring high, and countless bookshelves that seem to reach into the clouds surround it, filled with all kinds of books.

In the center of the room stood a black walnut wood desk, and a copper lamp emitted a warm yellow glow.

Lucian sat behind the table, flipping through a thick book with a cover that looked like it was made of strange material.

"If you take just one more step, this door will be closed to you forever."

Lucian didn't even look up. "Patience is the rarest quality a wizard possesses, more precious than the blood of a unicorn."

Hermione approached the desk, her gaze involuntarily drawn to the spines of the books surrounding it.

"Deciphering Cutting-Edge Black Magic," "Blood Pacts and Soul Contracts," "The Forgotten Ancient Alchemy"...

Are you testing me?

Hermione paused at the desk, trying to make her voice sound firmer, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her excitement. "Or is this just some kind of nasty excuse from Ravenclaw for being late?"

"If you interpret this as being late, you'd better go back to sleep."

"This is the Room of Requirement."

Lucian closed the book, the candlelight reflected in his eyes. "It only responds to strong desires. If you had only come here with the intention of finding fault or just watching the show, all you would have seen on the wall would have been an ordinary broomstick room."

Hermione pursed her lips. The implication that only intelligent people could enter greatly satisfied her vanity and made her immediately forgive the wait.

"Okay." She pulled out a chair and sat down, her movements somewhat hurried.

"You said you could explain why the standard transfiguration spells have a loophole in the chapter on living beings. Also, you said that Gamp's basic transfiguration laws are actually... a censored version?"

now it's right.

For Hermione Granger, the allure of truth far outweighs the constraints of rules. As long as you can throw out enough knowledge, she'll automatically find a reason for you.

Lucien did not answer directly, but instead pushed aside the heavy ancient book beside him, revealing a sheet of parchment spread out beneath it. The parchment was densely covered with intricate alchemical arrays and formulas, so complex that it would make anyone dizzy just by looking at it.

"Is this the book?" Hermione's eyes fell greedily on the spine of the book, "Alchemy and the Reconstruction of Origin".

"Books teach you safe magic, the boundaries the Ministry of Magic wants you to know. Just like Muggle schools teach children that fire is dangerous, thus forbidding them from playing with fire. But they don't tell children that fire is also the origin of civilization."

"Gamp's Law states: Nothing can be created out of thin air, and inanimate objects cannot truly be transformed into living things."

Hermione immediately chimed in, this was a principle she knew by heart, "Because souls cannot be imbued with magic. Animals created by transfiguration are merely magically simulated shells; they have no real consciousness and cannot reproduce."

"A perfect answer, Granger. Professor McGonagall will add ten points to your score."

Lucian stretched out his finger and tapped it on the parchment.

"But haven't you ever considered this? What if you, or I, were originally created from some kind of fire?"

Hermione was stunned; this was already at a philosophical level.

Look here.

Lucian didn't give her much time to think. He stared at the parchment filled with notes, and the stars in his eyes began to swirl slowly.

In that instant, Hermione had a strange feeling that the entire room was collapsing in the direction Lucien was pointing.

The magic stone hidden in his sleeve emitted a barely perceptible red light, so faint that it seemed to flow into the paper like a living thing.

This was the best he could do under Ravenclaw's protection.

To forcibly perform a "miracle".

The parchment suddenly trembled violently.

Then, the edges of the paper began to curl, tear, and thin. The originally dry black ink quickly reformed, transforming into extremely complex and colorful veins. The paper fibers disintegrated bit by bit, and then stretched out at an extremely fast speed.

Under Hermione's horrified gaze, a huge creature, its entire body shimmering with a ghostly blue light, staggered up from the table.

It was a black-rimmed blue morpho butterfly.

It's so real.

Its wings are covered with fine scales that refract a dreamlike blue-purple halo in the candlelight. Its abdomen is warm, its antennae tremble restlessly in the air, and when you stare at its compound eyes, composed of tens of thousands of single eyes, you can feel its fear and confusion as a newborn life.

It is no longer paper.

It is breathing.

"this……"

Hermione took a step back and bumped into the chair behind her.

Textbooks say that living things that transform from dead objects have no body temperature, no heartbeat, and empty eyes.

But the butterfly in front of us is scratching at the table with its segments, making a soft rustling sound.

She reached out her hand, wanting to touch it, but then hesitated.

The butterfly seemed to sense something; it fluttered its wings hesitantly, then took flight lightly.

Finally, it landed on Hermione's fingertips, which were frozen in mid-air.

The delicate antennae gently brushed against her skin, bringing a subtle tickle. It was the touch of life.

"Finite Incantatem (Spell Stop)!"

Hermione almost instinctively pulled out her wand and cast a counterspell at the butterfly. She desperately wanted to verify if it was true.

The butterfly was unharmed; instead, startled, it fluttered its wings and landed on her shoulder, where it rested quietly.

invalid.

"It won't go back to its original state."

Lucien withdrew his hand, the red light long since vanished. He leaned back in his chair, concealing the blurring of his back, and examined his creation.

"Because it is a butterfly now. I didn't change it, I defined it."

Hermione stood there blankly, her wand hanging limply in her hand.

But just as Lucien had predicted, after a brief moment of blankness, her eyes blazed with an unprecedented light called the thirst for knowledge.

She rushed to the table, braced herself with her hands, leaned forward, and spoke urgently.

"This isn't ordinary transfiguration! This involves a fundamental transformation of alchemy? What is that red light? Is it recorded in any books?"

There was no fear.

Only greed and excitement for unknown knowledge.

This was indeed a promising Ravenclaw, but unfortunately he was sorted into Gryffindor—a footnote to the main characters.

Lucian looked at the little witch in front of him, whose face was almost touching his nose.

"Calm down, Granger."

He leaned back in his chair, teasing the blue morpho butterfly on Hermione's shoulder.

Then, with a gentle push, he moved the book "Alchemy and the Reshaping of Origins" to the edge of the table.

"The first lesson is over. You can have this book; what you glean from it, or whether it drives you crazy... that's up to you."

Hermione looked up abruptly, her reason pulling her from her fascination with butterflies; she was filled with questions.

About the formula, about how he did it, about this room. But looking at Lucien's aloof demeanor, she knew there would be no more answers tonight.

Moreover, she needs time to process all of this.

"I will prove that I can understand it."

Hermione clutched the book tightly in her arms; it was her heavy evidence of guilt, and also her spoils of war.

"Even if it's to prove you wrong, Lucien."

"very good."

Lucian waved his hand. "Now, go back. Before you get caught by Lady Lorris."

Hermione took one last look at the boy sitting amidst the mountains of books and shadows.

This scene will remain etched in her mind even many years later.

Goodnight, Lucien.

She pushed open the heavy oak door.

The moment Hermione stepped across the threshold, the oak door behind her silently distorted and faded in the air, eventually turning into a hard, cold stone wall.

Only the heavy ancient book in her hand and the blue morpho butterfly still gently fluttering its wings on her shoulder proved that everything just now was not a dream.

……

The house is always ready to grant requests.

As the door disappeared, the entire library fell into a deathly silence.

Lucian remained seated in the high-backed chair, still in the same position as before, with his hands folded and his chin slightly raised.

one second.

two seconds.

Suddenly, the lively light in those eyes went out, and they became cloudy and dull.

Click.

A crisp sound came from inside his body.

Immediately afterwards, the once upright body collapsed in a very strange way.

His face quickly became withered and sallow, and countless fine cracks appeared on his skin.

The arrogant words from before are now reduced to the rustling sound of paper tearing.

The black wizard's robe lost its support and slid softly to the ground.

Among the pile of clothes were a scattered pile of discarded parchment covered with intricate alchemical arrays, and several quill pens used as skeletons.

A disposable alchemical artifact.

A perfect scam.

……

at the same time.

The hidden spaces inside the Ravenclaw statue.

Lucian's consciousness was pulled back to his body. His body, which was suspended on the Starry River Chessboard, trembled violently. Then he suddenly opened his eyes and coughed violently, his body arching over.

He gasped for breath, feeling nauseous from the dizziness of having his mind forcibly ripped away and being remotely controlled by another body; his brain felt like it was being repeatedly pierced by the stinger of a Billy Wigg worm.

Lucian managed to float, his movements slow and weak.

He raised his right hand, his sleeve slipping down to reveal his wrist. There, a ring of dark red alchemical engravings was slowly cooling and fading, eventually disappearing beneath his skin.

This is a reverse application of the Horcrux principle mentioned in "Deciphering the Dark Magic," combined with Professor McGonagall's advanced Transfiguration techniques—psychic projection and living puppetry.

Of course, he wouldn't go to the eighth floor himself.

The pervasive aura of calamity made him feel safe only here.

Therefore, having a convincingly realistic clone deal with Granger is the absolute guarantee of safety.

It was also an experiment.

If even at such close range, this all-knowing little witch couldn't see through his true form as a pile of scrap paper, then it shows that his alchemy skills are unparalleled.

If she were discovered, she would be even more in awe of the power he displayed and even more convinced of what he said.

"Very good...she left with the book."

Lucian muttered to himself,

He turned his head and looked to the side. There floated a palm-sized two-way mirror, its surface reflecting the scene inside the House of Granted Wishes.

That pile of "self" that has collapsed into waste paper.

After confirming that everything was completely destroyed, he picked up his wand and gently tapped the two-way mirror.

"Evanesco (disappeared without a trace)."

The House of Requirement in the mirror disappeared, leaving only his tired yet smiling eyes.

"The highest level of deception is to make the truth itself look like a lie, and to make the lie..." Lucien took a piece of chocolate out of his pocket and threw it into his mouth. The bitter taste spread on his tongue, slightly relieving the throbbing pain in his brain.

"...to become the only salvation."

Hermione Granger wouldn't betray them. Accomplices are often more loyal than friends, and when she decided to take the dark magic book in the dead of night, she had already signed her name as an accomplice in the pursuit of truth.

He needs to rest, but the chessboard has only just begun.