Was This Potato Too?

"Lucien Vallet. French. Graduated from Beauxbatons. Around seventy years old. An alchemist. He spent twelve years in Nicolas Flamel's workshop when he was young and was the last student Nicolas taught personally."

"Nicolas Flamel?" Gavin was a little surprised.

"The very same."

Rookwood walked behind Gavin, reading from the notes he had just organized.

"He specializes in practical Alchemy, magical machinery, automatons, material transmission, and complex magic circuits. Twenty years ago, he realized that flying broomsticks would become one of the Wizarding World's most profitable mass-produced goods. He entered the broomstick industry and, in less than six months, built a prototype that outperformed every commercial broomstick of the time. It was called—"

"The Icarus Core."

The stairs in Azkaban's West Tower were narrower than elsewhere. Seawater seeped through the walls and left dark stains along the edges of the stone steps.

The New Dementor Chief floated behind them, his cloak brushing against the walls on either side.

"A textbook Alchemy genius." Gavin nodded. "What happened next? How did he end up in Azkaban?"

"The Ministry of Magic declared the prototype too dangerous and confiscated it, claiming they would destroy it later. In reality, they wanted to reverse-engineer his technology. So he broke into the sealed testing ground to take the core back, flew through six layers of anti-flight wards on his prototype broomstick, and shook off seventeen Aurors. The core eventually exploded. Eleven Aurors were injured, and an Aircraft Management Bureau office building had to be rebuilt."

"No one died?"

"No, but he got forty years."

Gavin's steps slowed for a beat. It sounded as though Lucien had landed here because the Ministry of Magic needed to save face.

The Ministry of Magic couldn't deal with Icarus, so it dealt with the man who made it.

"What else has he