Harry Potter: I Get Stronger by Taking Loans - 129

Chapter 129: What Year Is Leonardo In? Aurelius Is a Qilin

Dawn neared the Forbidden Forest.

Smiling, Leonardo glanced at the unicorn foal. “How about that name? Or would you like another?”

“I… I like… it… very much.”

Newborn to the world, the foal still struggled with speech, but did its best to show its joy.

Aurora tottered toward him. Afraid she might fall, Leonardo stepped up to meet her.

Copying her parents, Aurora touched her tiny horn to Leonardo’s hand and gave a gentle nuzzle.

Perhaps she was too young for a blessing’s glow to spill from it, but it made Leonardo’s smile all the warmer.

“Newt, is it not lovely?” Dumbledore dabbed at the corner of his eye as he adjusted his glasses, watching the boy and the foal.

“It is,” Newt said, rubbing his palm. “The charm of first life.”

He had delivered many kinds of magical creatures, but never a night so unforgettable as this—performing a caesarean for a unicorn, watching a boy pull a newborn back from the brink, a feat close to a miracle. Then came the unicorns’ blessing, a rarity not just in the age but in history. Newt felt Leonardo had a deep bond with magical creatures. Perhaps…

“Leonardo truly suits a magical‑creatures path.”

Knowing his friend well, Dumbledore chuckled. “What, hoping he will take over for you one day?

“Ha. You may not know, Newt, but Leonardo also has a gift for teaching. He may well stay on here.”

Newt nodded. “It must be his choice, of course. By the way, in his fifth‑year career guidance, what did he say he wanted to do?”

The question wrong‑footed Dumbledore. He was no Seer. How would he know what Leonardo would want four years hence?

“Er—no idea.”

Newt glanced at him, surprised the Headmaster did not know what such a remarkable student might want to do. He looked back at Leonardo playing with the foal. It was a small regret that Leonardo was not a Hufflepuff—Hogwarts was the finest school, and Hufflepuff the finest house, in Newt’s mind—but it did not dim his admiration for the Ravenclaw.

Learned and kind, at ease with magical beasts.

Handsome as well, and his age looked…

Wait.

Age?

With the crisis passed, Newt finally had a moment to really look at Leonardo. It was their first face‑to‑face meeting; until now, they had only exchanged letters. Newt had always assumed Leonardo was a sixth‑ or seventh‑year. Only a student with years of solid Hogwarts training would ask him about such complex lore—Untraceable Extension Charms, detailed notes on creature habits…

But the more he looked, the more wrong it seemed. Leonardo did not look sixteen or seventeen years old. At most, he looked…

“Dumbledore, what year is Leonardo in, exactly?”

…

In the Headmaster’s office.

Dumbledore, Newt, and Leonardo sat around a small table.

A few little cakes had been set out.

“Oh, do try them,” Dumbledore said, drawing a slow sip of milky, sweet tea. “A cup of tea and a good cake in the morning will banish any weariness.”

This time, Leonardo and Newt did not hesitate. After a night like that, a little sugar would indeed steady the nerves.

Watching Aurelius play with Fawkes, Dumbledore’s eyes crinkled. “Aurelius, is it? Would you like a taste? The lemon is highly recommended.”

“Thank you, Headmaster Dumbledore.”

Aurelius lifted the lemon cake on a small tuft of auspicious cloud and took a light taste. Fawkes, for his part, showed no interest. After so many years at Dumbledore’s side, he had seen enough sweets for a lifetime and found them cloying.

Aurelius’s clear voice sounded straight in the mind, and Dumbledore could not help but marvel. “Leonardo, what an extraordinary companion. To be honest, Aurelius is in no way less than Fawkes.”

He glanced at his old partner. The crimson phoenix stood on a pale yellow cloud Aurelius had shaped and pecked at it, curious about so strange a thing.

“By the way, what species is Aurelius? I do not recall a creature quite like him.”

Leonardo set down his spoon and answered as he had told Newt. “A Qilin. Aurelius is a Qilin.”

“A Qilin?”

The word drew Dumbledore up short. The memory was sharp. Grindelwald had once tried to seize a Qilin to further his plots, only to be foiled when Newt brought another true Qilin to unmask him. Even so, Dumbledore could not reconcile what he knew of Qilin with Aurelius before him.

Not only the look—Qilin in his memory were like outsized deer, while Aurelius was more radiant, bearing an air of transcendence—but the powers were worlds apart. A Qilin could pierce hearts and weigh good and evil, choosing the most fitting leader. Dumbledore himself had been chosen once and had declined the post.

Aurelius, though: a flying yellow cloud, slipping past Hogwarts’ anti‑Apparition like it was not there, blood heavy with life…

It was hard to believe Aurelius was a Qilin of the kind he knew.

“Aurelius does differ from common Qilin,” Newt said, taking a sip of tea—without milk or sugar, of course. “It could be a powerful, benign mutation. To us, much about magical creatures is still unknown. Magic is too wondrous. One never knows what beings or miracles it may give us.

“And Aurelius’s blood and saliva hold life far beyond reason. That will draw the eyes of those with ill intent.”

Leonardo was grateful for the expert’s word. If Newt called it a magical creature, it was a magical creature. If he called it a mutation, it was a mutation.

Dumbledore nodded, voice sober. “I take your meaning. Rest easy. Hogwarts is safe. While I am here, no one will harm Leonardo or Aurelius.”

It was a promise that carried weight—from the greatest and most powerful wizard alive.

Leonardo could not help but grumble privately. Yes, everyone was quite safe at Hogwarts.

Except Harry.