A rocky outcrop rose from the sea.
Waves slammed into the black stone, throwing up white spray that shattered into glittering droplets under the sun. Salt wind whipped at their robes and stung their faces.
The old wizard breathed in the briny air and studied the boy across from him. His first impression had been of a quiet scholar—dark green eyes steady, stance relaxed, too calm for his age. Hard to square with the stories of basilisk-slaying and dark-wizard brawls.
Dumbledore leaned in and murmured something. Lucien gave a small nod, expression unchanged.
"Relax," the old wizard said with a dry chuckle. "We're just loosening up. For the kid's safety I'll only use one spell."
Dumbledore stepped to the edge of the rocks and drew the long, knobby elder wand. He held it ready, eyes moving between the two of them.
The old wizard bowed, smooth and elegant, like he'd done it on battlefields decades ago. When he saw Lucien still empty-handed he asked, "Sir, where's your wand?"
"I don't need one."
Lucien kept the thought to himself—Doesn't need one, or doesn't have one?—and slid his own wand back into his pocket.
"Fair's fair."
The old wizard's eyelid twitched. Wandless magic. Kids these days.
He flicked his hand upward.
Crimson fire exploded into the air. Black smoke twisted through the flames, giving them a restless, almost hungry look. They churned like living things.
Fiendfyre, Lucien thought. That color… shouldn't it be the color of a gas stove flame? Is this guy actually—
The fire calmed before the thought finished. Part of it circled the old wizard's feet in a quiet ring. The rest rose and shaped itself into a dragon—horns, wings, claws, every scale distinct. Heat warped the air around it.
A smaller ball of the same fire danced across the old wizard's fingers, rolling over his knuckles and between them without burning skin. He played with it like a toy.
Shaping Fiendfyre and holding it like that… Lucien's eyes narrowed. Let's see if he can make it blue.
He raised his right hand. A bright blue wave-pattern lit at his fingertips—the water elemental rune.
For a split second the sea around the rocks went perfectly still.
Then thick jets of water burst upward like dragons leaping from the depths. They arced high into the sky, catching sunlight and throwing off rainbows against the crimson fire on the other side.