The morning sun filtered softly through the enchanted windows of the Blackthorn estate, casting golden patterns on the long mahogany dining table. A gentle breeze whispered through the lace curtains as silver cutlery gleamed against black porcelain plates. House-elves moved silently in the background, setting out a lavish breakfast of warm bread, roasted meats, fruit compote, and chilled pumpkin juice.
Elias stepped into the family breakfast chamber, dressed in a sharp black tunic with green embroidery along the cuffs. His boots clicked softly against the obsidian-tiled floor as he approached the head of the table, where Lucian Blackthorn sat reading the day's magical edition of The Wizarding Herald.
His father looked up, one brow arching in silent acknowledgment. "You're up early."
"I remembered something I forgot to give you yesterday," Elias said calmly.
Lucian folded the paper, setting it aside as a house-elf filled his teacup. "Oh?"
Without a word, Elias reached into his robe and pulled out a dark velvet pouch bound by a silver rune-etched cord. He placed it gently on the table in front of his father. The moment it touched the surface, the wood shimmered with the latent magical pressure inside.
Lucian's sharp gaze shifted from the pouch to his son. "What is this?"
Elias sat down across from him. "A portion of the treasures from the hidden chamber in the pyramid. It was unguarded after the magical beasts were defeated. I've already secured my share—this is for the family vault."
Lucian untied the cord and opened the pouch. A glimmer of pure ancient Egyptian gold, rare gems, enchanted coins, and long-forgotten artifacts glowed from within—some pieces still humming with time-preserved enchantments. There were thousands of galleons' worth of magical value inside. Possibly millions.
For a moment, Lucian said nothing.
He closed the pouch slowly, retied the cord, and returned his eyes to Elias. "You… handled the transfer yourself?"
"I used the elves to secure and store it in a protected dimensional pocket. No trace remains behind."
Lucian's voice remained measured, but a subtle shift in his expression betrayed his inner reaction—a flicker of pride, the faintest curve of a smirk.
"Well done," he said after a moment. "Few wizards your age—or any age—would have returned anything. Let alone treasure of this magnitude."
"I didn't claim it for myself," Elias replied evenly. "It was a Blackthorn-funded expedition. The find belongs to the family. I kept only a modest portion of what was untouched."
Lucian leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands together. "You've made your mark, Elias. This will add strength to our vaults, not just in gold, but in reputation. The Ministry may not know where it came from, but they'll know who has it."
Elias inclined his head. "That was part of the intent."
A long pause passed between them as the sound of the distant estate grounds stirred—the chirping of magical birds, the rustle of leaves enchanted to change color with the hour.
Lucian finally asked, "So. What do you plan to do now that you're back?"
Elias picked up his cup of dark roast tea. "I'll begin my summer training today. I'll be using the family dueling grounds to refine my combat spells and improve my magical stamina. And I plan to start researching the Philosopher's Stone."
Lucian chuckled lightly, sipping his tea. "You're already playing the game like a politician, Elias. But tread carefully. Even Dumbledore doesn't let go of such a relic easily."
"I will," Elias replied. "My intention isn't to use the stone recklessly. I want to understand its construction, its alchemical matrix. How it stabilizes eternal transmutation without corrupting the magical structure. Even if I can't replicate it, I want to know how it was made."
Lucian nodded approvingly. "Alchemy on that level is lost to most modern wizards. If you can even glean a fraction of the secret, it would be worth more than all the treasure you brought."
"I believe so too," Elias said. "And I'll begin by studying the resonance it gives off while stored. Once I understand that, I'll move to layered magical analyses."
Lucian stood up and summoned a silver-cased ring box. He placed it on the table. "Here. A warding ring from our archives. It'll help protect you from magical feedback if the Stone reacts. Wear it when you experiment."
Elias took it and slid it onto his left ring finger. The subtle hum of protective enchantments settled over him immediately.
"Thank you."
Lucian simply nodded. "Do not break it. That ring is older than the Ministry itself."
"I'll keep it intact."
Lucian smiled faintly. "Good. Then I leave you to your studies. Let me know if you need anything—scrolls, texts, protection arrays, or even test subjects. I'll arrange it."
Elias stood as well. "I may ask for some access to the deep libraries later."
"Granted."
With that, Lucian turned and left the room, the treasure pouch still in hand, leaving Elias alone with the early sunlight and the quiet weight of expectations.
Later That Day: Blackthorn Dueling Grounds
The estate's dueling arena was no simple courtyard. It was a sprawling underground coliseum, magically lit and enchanted with shifting terrain. Smooth obsidian floors could shift into stone platforms, sandpits, or even forest-like surroundings. The air buzzed faintly with warding runes etched into every wall, preventing death—but not pain.
Elias stood in the center of the platform in his training robes, wand in hand. His two house-elves, Nox and Riven, remained at the perimeter, watching silently in case anything went wrong.
He breathed in, grounding himself. Then, with a sharp flick of his wand, he whispered, "Vibraflamma."
A stream of vibrating flame arced from his wand tip, spiraling into a moving target that emerged from the far wall. The spell struck with precision, burning a hole clean through the center.
He moved through the motions—summoning spells, shielding with ancient techniques, combining elemental attacks. Every strike honed. Every block tighter.
After an hour of relentless motion, sweat lined his brow, but his magic still flowed strong.
Finally, he called out, "Bring me the Stone."
Nox appeared beside him with a velvet-covered box and offered it reverently. Elias opened it. The Philosopher's Stone gleamed like a solid drop of living blood, pulsing faintly as if it breathed.