Lucas tried to bolt upright, but the sharp pain slammed him right back against the pillows.
All he could do was lie there while Ellie bounced on the edge of his bed, waving her arms like she’d just won the Quidditch Cup.
“I wasn’t hurt that bad—Madam Pomfrey had me fixed up by morning!
Professor Dumbledore let me tour the whole castle.
Merlin, our family fortress looks like a shack compared to this place.”
She was talking so fast she barely breathed.
“Walking suits of armor that actually chat with you, portraits that wave and gossip, ghosts drifting through the towers in packs.
And the staircases!
They move on their own and drop you somewhere completely different.
The Great Hall ceiling is full of floating candles, and at night you can see the real sky through it.
I love it here.
I want to go to school here so bad.”
A soft knock sounded on the hospital-wing door.
It swung open.
“Evening, children,” a calm voice said.
“Miss MacFusty, I’m delighted you enjoy Hogwarts.
I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but your voice carries rather well through these walls.
Fortunately Madam Pomfrey has already stepped out…”
A tall, thin old man stepped inside.
His long silver beard reached his waist.
Half-moon glasses perched on a long, crooked nose that looked like it had been broken once and healed a little off.
Behind the lenses, pale blue eyes twinkled with warmth and quiet wisdom.
He wore deep-purple robes embroidered with tiny stars and moons, and he moved with surprising lightness for someone his age.
Ellie stopped mid-sentence and stood up fast, looking awed.
“Good evening, Professor Dumbledore.”
Lucas’s heart gave a hard thump.
Dumbledore.
The headmaster of Hogwarts.
The same name that had been printed under a mile-long list of titles on his acceptance letter.
The “greatest wizard of the age,” according to Ellie.
The old man really did look the part.
Lucas tried to sit up again.
Dumbledore waved him back down gently.
“No need to move, Mr.
McGregor.
Stay comfortable.” He settled into the chair beside the bed with a small smile.
“We can talk just as easily like this.”
He turned to Ellie.
“Miss MacFusty, your father is waiting in the Great Hall.
He’s quite anxious to see you.
I believe you already know the way?”
Ellie’s cheeks lost their excited flush.
She looked like someone who’d just remembered she was in trouble.
“Okay…” she said slowly, dragging her feet toward the door.
She glanced back at Lucas.
“I’ll come see you later!”
“Talk to your dad, Ellie,” Lucas called after her.
“Get him to let you come to school here!”
She gave a grim little nod, like she was marching off to face a dragon, and slipped out.
The door clicked shut.
Only Lucas and Dumbledore remained.
“You look much better than when they brought you in,” Dumbledore said quietly.
“You gave us quite a scare.”
“Thank you, Professor.
Thank you—and thank Hogwarts—for saving me.” Lucas swallowed.
“Just call me Lucas.”
Dumbledore nodded.
“Miss MacFusty told me the whole story.
Quite the adventure.
Especially you, Lucas—climbing onto a black dragon’s back to save your friend, then facing down a full-grown forest troll to protect her.
I daresay most adult witches and wizards couldn’t have managed half of it.”
“If you were already a Hogwarts student, I would award your house at least fifty points.”
He paused, eyes sparkling with faint humor.
“Pity you haven’t started yet.”
At the word school, Lucas’s stomach tightened.
“Professor Dumbledore—my grandpa!
Does he know I’m awake?
He must be losing his mind.”
“Don’t worry,” Dumbledore said gently.
“Professor Sprout is with him right now.
They’re in Hogsmeade, just down the road from the castle.
I sent a Patronus the moment you woke.
They know you’re safe.”
“Can he come see me?” Lucas asked, hope rising.
Dumbledore shook his head.
“I’m afraid not.
Strict laws and protective enchantments prevent any Muggle from entering Hogwarts grounds.
In a thousand years there has been only one exception—a grieving Muggle couple whose child died here.
We hope such a tragedy never repeats.”
He grew serious.
“When we learned what the two of you had been through, everyone was terrified history might repeat itself.
You were extraordinarily lucky.
Do not let that luck make you reckless.
Think of your own safety—and of the people who love you.”
“I promise,” Lucas said at once.
Dumbledore smiled again.
“Good.
Whether it was riding a dragon, surviving the forest, or fighting a troll, you showed remarkable courage and quick thinking.
You are going to be one of Hogwarts’ finest students.”
Warmth spread through Lucas’s chest.
He had expected the greatest wizard alive to be distant and imposing.
Instead the old man sat beside his bed like a favorite uncle, kind and easy to talk to.
Hogwarts already felt like home.
“Tomorrow morning, once you’re discharged, we’ll take you straight to your grandfather,” Dumbledore continued.
“Two other visitors are also eager to thank you in person.
The centaur girl you saved—Xiya—and her father, Firenze, are waiting at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.”
“She’s all right?” Lucas asked.
“I didn’t actually beat the troll.
I just… slowed it down.”
“Courage is not measured by whether you win,” Dumbledore said.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small orange-yellow candy.
“Care for a lemon drop?
The Skele-Gro doesn’t taste very pleasant, I hear.
This will be our little secret—don’t tell Madam Pomfrey.”
Lucas took the candy, surprised.
Lemon drop?
That was just ordinary Muggle candy.
He peeled off the wrapper and popped it in his mouth.
Bright, sweet-tart lemon flavor burst across his tongue, followed by a fizzy little pop.
It really was just a regular lemon drop.
He must have picked a Muggle one because I’m still healing, Lucas thought, a little disappointed but touched all the same.
Dumbledore stood.
“Rest now, Lucas.
The bones still need time to finish knitting.
It will hurt tonight, but a young man brave enough to fight a troll can handle a little discomfort.
Yes?”
He gave Lucas a final twinkling smile and left the hospital wing as quietly as he had come.