As emerald flames flickered in the fireplace, Linus stepped out of the firelight and raised his eyes.
The lights inside the room were already lit.
Before him stood a woman in her thirties, elegant and icy, her beauty untouched by age; if anything, the passing years had endowed her every glance with a ripe, captivating allure.
Almost the instant he appeared, she threw herself into his arms, their lips pressing together in a passionate tangle of breath.
“Linus, I haven’t seen you in five years.” “I know,” he whispered with a slight smile.
“Yet you look as alluring as ever, as though time has never touched you.” “That’s because your youth-restoring potion worked,” the woman chuckled softly, her fingertips tracing his jawline.
“Pity the effects are so brief.
Can’t you extend them a bit?
Or…
make them permanent?” “If I did that, I’d have no business left to run.” “Sounds like a Slytherin answer.” “The Sorting Hat really hesitated for a long time back then,” he teased.
“Fortunately, my thirst for knowledge outweighed my ambition.” Amid shared laughter, they entwined once again.
Only when her breathing grew fast and shallow did he suddenly pause.
“Where’s your husband?” “Out.
He took the children on vacation and won’t be back for another few hours.” The moment the words left her lips, garments fell to the floor in disarray.
…
A few hours later, the night outside hung heavy and dark.
Linus leaned against the headboard.
The woman in his arms had fallen fast asleep, her breathing slow and steady.
He did not sleep.
On the contrary, as physical fatigue receded, his mind became sharper than ever.
Lycanthropy.
The term flashed through his mind.
The instant a werewolf bites a human, the virus invades the bloodstream and alters the physique—a reconstruction at the fundamental level of bloodline.
If he could isolate that “conversion factor” and master it…
Wouldn’t that be equivalent to holding the key to rewriting the Life Code?
He sat up, his eyes gleaming in the dark room.
“If the mutation mechanism can be artificially controlled, bloodlines could be altered painlessly—or the curse could even be reversed…” This was a completely new direction.
Formulas and magical array structures flooded his mind like a surging tide.
*If a virus can be used as a medium to rewrite the Life Code…
perhaps it could achieve a form of ‘controlled evolution.’* Unfortunately, he still needed test subjects.
He would not target children, but perhaps— “Perhaps I should let some Death Eaters do the dirty work.” He murmured to himself, a cold smile touching the corner of his lips.
“Like that madwoman Bellatrix…
though her insanity is far too difficult to control.” His thoughts were interrupted by a quiet murmur.
The woman had awakened and was watching him.
“What are you thinking about?” “My research.” “Have you found a way to cure Astoria’s blood curse?” She sat up, her expression a complex mixture of emotions.
“I’ve developed a preliminary plan,” he said calmly.
“Given enough samples, I might be able to completely eradicate the bloodline curse of your Greengrass family.
It just takes time.” She nodded, a ray of hope flashing in her eyes.
For half an hour, they lay embraced in silence.
When she drifted off to sleep again, Linus got up and lightly flicked his wand.
The scattered clothing floated up of its own accord, neatly dressing him once more.
He straightened his tie, preparing to leave.
Her low voice came from behind him.
“Linus.” He paused in his tracks.
“You know this isn’t just a transaction to me.” He did not turn around.
“What do you mean?” “I approached you at first to save my daughter.
But after all these years…
I’ve truly fallen for you.
If you asked me to leave my husband one day, I wouldn’t hesitate.” Linus went silent for a moment, then let out a faint smile.
“I know.
But some things lose their original beauty the moment you give them a definition.” With those words, he stepped into the fireplace.
Green flames flared around him, and his figure vanished.
…
He returned to his own manor.
All was quiet.
Ember light flickered softly in the dim fireplace.
He sank into an armchair and began organizing his new experimental ideas.
“Momo.” he called out softly.
With a quiet pop, a house-elf wearing a neat little suit appeared.
Her ugly face looked exceptionally solemn due to her rigorous etiquette.
She had been at his side since he was six years old— watching him pursue his studies, travel the world, immerse himself in research, and wander between darkness and light.
She was one of the very few who truly understood him.
“Master, there are two letters from this week,” Momo said, holding up the envelopes respectfully.
“One is from Hogwarts, and the other is from Madam Amelia Bones.” “Read the one from Hogwarts first.” He opened the envelope and scanned it quickly.
The contents were brief.
The school had officially appointed him as the Alchemy professor for the upcoming term, starting in September.
He nodded.
“Looks like I’ll have to make another trip back.” “And Madam Amelia’s letter?” Momo unsealed the second letter and read it aloud quickly: “Madam Bones insists that you attend dinner tonight, or she will send a thousand Howlers a day.
If you still refuse, she will send Aurors to arrest you on trumped-up charges.” Linus chuckled.
“She certainly would.” He leaned back against his chair, a look of gentle helplessness in his eyes.
“Reply to her and say I’ll attend on time.” Momo nodded and vanished into thin air.
The hearth fire flared again, casting a soft glow over his calm profile.
Linus looked out the window at the soft, pale moonlight.
Five years of solitary travel and research seemed to coalesce at this moment into a clear, bright spark of inspiration.
He murmured under his breath: “The Life Code…
Perhaps I am one step closer to the truth.”