yasinovel Chapter 134, Section 133: Ticket Price and the Professor Who Fleed Away
Chapter 134, Section 133: Ticket Price and the Professor Who Fleed Away
Chapter 134, Section 133: Ticket Price and the Professor Who Fleed Away
Devonshire.
The moment when the first rays of dawn appear.
The outline of the manor gradually became clear in the thin mist, and golden sunlight filtered through the branches and leaves of the ancient oak trees, casting dappled light and shadow that gently covered every corner of the manor.
It shone on Albus Dumbledore, enveloping the centenarian in warm sunlight as if gilded with a thin layer of gold.
Sunlight streamed through his incredibly pale hair, and seemed to shine into his heart as well—Nick Flamel sensed a vitality and—a heat—that he had never seen before emanating from this most powerful wizard of the century.
A flame called hope burned in Albus Dumbledore's heart.
Nick Flamel and Albus Dumbledore were old friends who had known each other for many years, and he had never seen such a flame burn in Albus Dumbledore's heart.
As a master alchemist, Nicolas Flamel immediately realized that no one could extinguish it.
"It seems you've done something remarkable again without our knowledge." Nick Flamel abandoned his thoughts of consolation and looked again at the damaged ancient time converter in his hand.
"May I have the honor of knowing what forbidden thing you have verified?" Clearly, this master who created the Philosopher's Stone and whose achievement had reached the pinnacle of alchemy already had a judgment in mind.
Albus Dumbledore nodded and looked at the blooming flowers in Nicolas Flamel Manor. Even in winter, the vibrant flowers still swayed gently in the breeze, full of vitality.
"We successfully deceived Death once, with the help of a legend." The old headmaster did not elaborate, as it involved some secret plots between him and Grindelwald.
However, even this vague description was enough for Nicolas Flamel to know what had happened, which perfectly matched his guess.
of course.
There were also aspects that Nick Lemaître hadn't anticipated.
"There are no legends in this day and age, Dumbledore. We all know that the Big Four are the last glimmer of legends, and that's why you are being constrained by the times."
Nicolas Lemaître's expression showed a hint of surprise.
He led Albus Dumbledore to his house, a building with a perfect golden rectangle, possessing a mathematical beauty that is hard to describe in words.
It seems ordinary.
Yet it evokes a sense of visual beauty.
"There are always ways to keep people away from death, like the Philosopher's Stone you created. Perhaps some remnants of our time still linger."
Albus Dumbledore followed closely behind, and although his choice of words was slightly more subtle, the certainty in his tone made Nick Flamel stop in his tracks.
Are you sure?
The old man, who was over six hundred years old, slightly froze.
"Of course."
Albus Dumbledore looked directly at the other person and nodded.
All eyes are drawn to each other.
This confirmed the facts for Nicolas Lemaître.
"This is even more shocking than you getting together with that freak again and playing with life and death once more." Nicolas Flamel was clearly a wise and experienced man.
Based solely on his brief interaction with Albus Dumbledore, he was able to glean a great deal of information—that someone who could become a master alchemist must possess extraordinary wisdom.
"Gellert's mind isn't as crazy as it used to be, and Hogwarts and I do need his help right now. You know that the madman is still a potential threat."
Albus Dumbledore offered a defense of his old friend, though his defense seemed weak. Nick Flamel merely gave him a deep look without reprimanding him.
"And how do you know he hasn't gone even crazier—of course, I don't care about that, after all, this world will soon be a thing of the past for me."
Nick Flamel led Albus Dumbledore into the house, where an elderly woman, just as frail as herself, greeted him warmly.
Snape might have a heart attack if he came here, because the old lady's clothes, even her apron, were made of dragon skin. The most outrageous thing was that the old lady had a smooth cloak over her dragon skin coat. It was entirely made of unicorn feathers, so its warmth was obvious. Most importantly, it exuded an aura of inhuman extravagance.
"You've come at the right time. I'm trying to make burritos." Although she says she's trying to learn cooking, the little figures in front of the old lady who are being directed by her are actually the real laborers.
"My dear, our friend certainly won't be able to eat until he gets a definite answer from me," Nicolas Flamel said with a smile, giving the old lady a hug.
A couple who have been married for six hundred years.
Their feelings for each other only grew stronger.
After all, they were childhood sweethearts.
It's definitely different from couples who grow tired of each other after seven years.
People may only know that Nicolas Flamel was a brilliant alchemist and the master craftsman who created the Philosopher's Stone, but few know anything else about him.
That happened six hundred years ago.
Nicolas Flamel studied at the Beaux-Arts School in Beaux-Arts, France, where he met his future wife, Pereñar Flamel. The Flamels were a young school couple who fell in love early in their lives and have enjoyed a very strong relationship. They have been together for over 600 years and remain a happy and fulfilling couple to this day.
"Family ties are always hard to sever; they are one of the few things that are not affected by time," Pereñar Lemaître remarked after glancing at what her husband was holding.
"These days, obtaining the Sands of Time is no easy feat. It's even more strictly controlled than those Muggle bombs, and the Department of Mysteries has almost completely cut off the materials needed to create it."
Pereñar Lemaître clearly has a deep understanding of alchemy, much like an expert who loses 20 million in the stock market would inevitably have a wife who loses at least 200 million in the stock market.
Even if one is not a professional, one will still be influenced by what one sees and hears, not to mention that Pereñar Lemaître himself was an extremely excellent wizard and alchemist.
To spend one's life with a near-legendary alchemist, how could one not be an outstanding person? After all, "marrying someone of equal social standing" is the ultimate truth in any era.
It doesn't have to involve family background.
But it will definitely involve oneself.
"Our main problem is the lack of another rare material. The Sands of Time is the least of our worries, since it's stored in the Department of Mysteries."
"You're right, aren't you, Dumbledore?"
Nick Flamel looked at Albus Dumbledore.
The old principal was somewhat embarrassed.
The only way to express their tacit agreement was through silence.
"Alright, I'll stop teasing you. Let me take a closer look at the book and see if I can actually help you." He laughed heartily and waved his hand.
He led Albus Dumbledore to his laboratory—more of an entertainment room than a laboratory, filled with all sorts of strange and wonderful alchemical artifacts.
If Ian comes here.
This place must be paradise for a young wizard.
The alchemical artifacts in the room could be counted in the tens of thousands.
There are glass bottles containing lightning and storms, with little figures inside being chased by lightning and storms, and a textile machine with a sign that reads "Damaged, Do Not Use".
It is a dream weaving machine that can weave all kinds of beautiful dreams for its users. However, what impressed Albus Dumbledore about it was that he had secretly used it out of curiosity a long time ago.
The characteristics of Gryffindor.
This caused him immense psychological trauma.
Since then, Nicolas Lemaître has put a label on the machine and never repaired it again, perhaps because the damage, where a beautiful dream was woven into a nightmare, is an interesting coincidence.
"Gurgle gurgle~"
Something is being cooked in the laboratory right now.
A house-elf dressed in extremely unconventional attire was squatting earnestly in front of them.
"Master! It's still this color!"
Its expression as it looked back at Nicolas Flamel was one of utter dejection.
"It's okay, it just failed again. Let it tough out a bit more, you can use it to water the plants." Nicolas Flamel walked past his lab table dismissively.
"Yes, Master."
The house-elf sighed sadly.
"Cheer up, it's not something you have to succeed at," Nick Flamel chuckled, reassuring his house-elf.
And it gave commands to the house-elves.
"One needs to be happy at all times to increase the success rate of alchemy experiments." It's unexpected that even a renowned alchemy master would have some belief in such metaphysical things.
"It's all Prolo's fault! Prolo failed to bring good luck to its master!" The house-elf pounded its head, but Nicolas Flamel stopped it with a sigh.
"How many times have I told you, don't hit yourself, you'll damage your brain," Nicolas Flamel said sternly to the timid house-elf.
"To punish you for your mistake, you need to buy yourself two tickets to a fashion show, a French fashion show. I'll make sure you watch the whole show."
Nick Flamel glanced at Albus Dumbledore, then hesitated slightly. "Three cards, please. Having more people supervising you will make you more focused on carrying out your punishment."
Upon hearing this...
The house-elf nodded and disappeared from the laboratory.
...
Albus Dumbledore was speechless. He hadn't expected that after so many years, his alchemist friend would still be so young at heart.
"I think I won't need it."
He declined Nicolas Flamel's invitation.
That's your loss.
Nicolas Lemaître curled his lip.
"Honey water, perhaps?"
He then asked Albus Dumbledore another question.
"A glass of honey lemonade, please." As soon as Albus Dumbledore finished speaking, a drink appeared in his hand, suggesting there might be more than one house-elves in the room.
of course.
Albus Dumbledore, who did not sense any house-elf aura, was more inclined to believe that it was the house's own power.
He looked around.
Besides countless alchemical creations, this room also has as many bookshelves as the Hogwarts library, displaying many books that even the Hogwarts library has never had the chance to include.
The room had clearly been enchanted with an expansion spell, and not only that, the walls were also covered with various runes involving many extremely ancient alchemical languages.
It might be an even more fortified fortress than Hogwarts. The only place not marked with runes is adorned with six paintings, all depicting Nicolas Flamel and his wife.
Each group photo is taken exactly one hundred years apart, clearly recording the years from when the two were full of energy to when they were withered and worn out, yet they still lived on in the world.
"Are you trying to create a panacea?" Albus Dumbledore stopped in front of the lab table and saw the potion still being brewed, but which was described as a failure.
At least in the realm of magic, he was an all-rounder. Even though his alchemy skills were not as good as the other real old man in the house, his knowledge and insight were exceptional.
"The magic stone I gave you doesn't have much magic left. Of course, I would like to try other alternatives, but unfortunately, the times have clearly limited me as well."
Nicolas Lemaître sighed softly.
"When I was very young, you told me that death was just another, greater adventure. I never imagined that I would be the only one who believed that in the end?"
Albus Dumbledore began jokingly.
Nicolas Lemaître burst into laughter.
"Of course I know that, but if given the chance, who wouldn't want to live a little longer?" Nicolas Flamel's gaze drifted to the beautiful scenery outside the window after the rain had stopped.
"I haven't seen enough yet."
His tone carried a hint of感慨 (gǎnkǎi, a complex emotion encompassing regret, regret, and a touch of detachment), but there was no particular attachment to it. In fact, his previous attitude already revealed that this great alchemist indeed held a rather Zen-like attitude towards immortality.
"Yes, this world... is beautiful..."
Albus Dumbledore lowered his head, concealing the sadness in his eyes.
"Wait me a moment."
Nick Lemaire pulled out a large ladder and began searching through his bookshelves, even putting on dragon-skin gloves to minimize damage to the ancient books.
after all.
Some books are indeed too old and difficult to reproduce.
"The one thing we have plenty of is time." Albus Dumbledore wasn't in a hurry; he was curiously checking the room for any of Nicolas Flamel's latest alchemical works.
Actually, there really is.
An arcade machine that Ian might find childish, but which Albus Dumbledore thoroughly enjoyed, is like a toy made from Muggle entertainment equipment.
It not only features a variety of vivid characters that modern graphics cards probably couldn't render or create, but also allows players to manually interfere with the game's progress when they get angry at it.
This is not.
After playing for a while, Albus Dumbledore reached in and strangled the gatekeeper boss, a miniature dragon that had breathed fire and burned the little figure he was controlling more than ten times.
"If you like this work, you can take it to your school," Nick Flamel said, amused. He had also noticed Albus Dumbledore's behavior.
"Actually, I'm still thinking about your puppet band even now." Albus Dumbledore put down the arcade machine and looked at a small table next to the lab table.
There are dozens of different LEGO minifigures on it, and they are a band that started playing music after Nicolas Lemaître snapped his fingers.
not only that.
Because they were playing Bach's music, the little figures transformed into miniature versions of Bach, and their music could surround the entire enormous laboratory in stereo.
"Bach's music is from two hundred years ago. Give me a piece by Beethoven. He died more than a hundred years ago and is definitely a vital force in the new school of music."
Nicolas Lemaître's understanding of the new and the old was clearly unique; as soon as he gave the order, all the band members immediately changed to the style of more than a hundred years ago.
The little figure responsible for playing the music was transformed into Beethoven.
"Still so interesting."
Albus Dumbledore wore a look of envy. It wasn't that he couldn't create them himself, but his musical talent made it difficult for him to give the little people such a performance.
"These are my treasures. You can only have them after I'm dead." Nicolas Flamel climbed down the ladder, not carrying any books.
"Is there any way?"
Albus Dumbledore quickly dropped the little doll; in the end, he was more concerned with his own needs.
"I've confirmed the extinction dates of some lost materials. Fortunately, if you can get your hands on a time converter from the Ministry of Magic, then the one we have might have a chance to be repaired."
"You need to pull your tricks a few more times and fool time—of course, I still believe that such tricks will ultimately cost you dearly."
Nicolas Flamel had apparently found a way to repair the ancient time-travel device. Of course, in his view, this method was merely theoretically feasible with unknown costs.
"We all know the limitations of the time converter, so you still need the help of that legendary figure you mentioned," Nicholas Lemai said, bringing up the most important factor in completing the plan.
Albus Dumbledore frowned.
He and Grindelwald hadn't even figured out where Salazar Slytherin was or if he was still truly alive, let alone asking Salazar Slytherin to share the danger with them.
"It seems you won't be able to find that legend."
Nick Lemaître immediately understood Albus Dumbledore's predicament from his expression.
"This will take time."
Albus Dumbledore also sighed slightly.
"In my opinion, even if you find that legend, you may not necessarily get help from him—no one but you would want to pick and choose time and fate."
Nick Flamel wants to return the ancient time-traveling device to Albus Dumbledore.
but.
Albus Dumbledore did not go to pick it up.
"Could you complete the other repair work first?"
His gaze toward Nicolas Lemaître carried a hint of pleading.
Nick Flamel was silent for a moment. "Of course, but without the help of legends, even if you can deceive time, you won't be able to collect and utilize those things that don't belong to us."
The alchemy master bluntly expressed his skepticism.
"Give me some time, and I can find that hidden legend—"—even if he's unwilling to help, we can find other ways."
Albus Dumbledore's tone was unwavering.
His gaze met Nicolas Flamel's again, as deep and gentle as ever, but this time it stirred up some waves in Nicolas Flamel's heart.
"I knew it! You're crazier than your old friend! More insane than your student!" Nicolas Flamel said in a terrified tone, his wrinkled face also showing a look of horror.
Albus Dumbledore responded with silence, and after a long while, after Nicolas Flamel had circled him several times, he finally couldn't help but speak with a helpless expression.
"Perhaps you have another idea?"
His tone carried a hint of hope.
however.
Nick Lemaître simply shook his head.
"No, I'm just an alchemist, not the creator. I can't use substandard materials to replace the proper ones. And even if I did make it, would you dare use such an inferior product?" After saying this, the alchemist turned around and carried out a large box, his movements appearing somewhat laborious.
Albus Dumbledore immediately stepped forward to help.
Are you still obsessed with studying the Creator?
He asked out of curiosity.
"Strictly speaking, I'm just obsessed with the idea of a real creator mentioned in ancient alchemical texts," Nick Flamel corrected Albus Dumbledore's choice of words.
Is there a difference?
Albus Dumbledore was never obsessed with this ancient superstition, which was even more illusory than death itself.
"Of course there is a difference. At least among us alchemists, the true creator we are referring to exists, and there have been several people in history who have obtained alchemical works."
Nicolas Lemaître was panting heavily after doing just a little physical work.
"But haven't you found it before—" Albus Dumbledore didn't dare to contradict the other's point of view too much, after all, he knew that this alchemist was always quite persistent.
"If I weren't running out of time, I'm sure I could find it. I can't believe that you, as the headmaster of Hogwarts, don't even believe in something that definitely existed."
Nick Flamel finally recovered. He leaned against a large machine next to him, looked at Albus Dumbledore with a puzzled expression, and said with a sigh.
"As far as I know, your founders have seen the real Creator." Nick Flamel's voice was very confident, which only made Albus Dumbledore more confused.
"Where did you hear this anecdote?"
When it came to the school's founders' past, the former headmaster felt he had some authority to speak on the subject. However, his confidence drew ridicule from Nicolas Flamel.
"You still haven't read enough books."
The alchemist, describing his withered manuscript, lowered his voice.
"This name is just a title. It's the first person I met. I was under a curse and could only use this name to address them. In reality, the true creator is just a magical creature."
"At least it looks like a magical creature—a bird that has been on the emblem of your school, Ravenclaw, for a thousand years."
have to say.
Nick Lemaître's remarks were absolutely appalling.
Even Albus Dumbledore's eyes flickered slightly. However, at this moment, what puzzled Albus Dumbledore the most was Nick Flamel's behavior.
After resting, the alchemist, who was severely exhausted, opened the box that had been brought over and began frantically stuffing things into it.
"What are you doing?"
Albus Dumbledore asked the question.
"Of course I'm going to Hogwarts. Don't you welcome me?" Nick Flamel packed his things, pulled his suitcase, and led Albus Dumbledore outside.
"Of course you're welcome! Absolutely welcome! Our academy's alchemy professor just ran away today, perhaps you could also lend a hand to these future hopes?"
Albus Dumbledore clearly hadn't anticipated Nicolas Flamel's sudden idea, and he immediately seized the opportunity to extend the invitation again, something he had done on more than one occasion before.
every time.
All the responses I received were polite refusals.
But this time it's clearly different.
"No problem, let me make the most of my last bit of value." Nick Flamel agreed so readily that Albus Dumbledore was somewhat taken aback.
What made you think that way?
He was also very curious about Nicolas Lemaître's change of heart.
"Of course it's for fun! Don't you know alchemists are all about having fun?" Nick Flamel said with a smile, still speaking in his usual blunt manner.
"Either I witness the fall of one legend and the rise of two others, or I see a legend turn the tables on you all. Either way, I'm sure I won't lose out."
"I've seen everything in my life, but I've never witnessed the power and extraordinary nature of a legend firsthand." Nick Flamel's words elicited a very interesting expression from Albus Dumbledore.
"......
7
The former headmaster had absolutely no idea how to respond.
They passed by the outer hall.
"Are you going on a long trip?"
Pereñar Lemaître looked at her husband with a surprised expression.
"Go to Hogwarts. I'll pick you up after I've settled in. There's a real show to watch. We might die from watching the show, but it'll definitely be worth the ticket price."
Nicolas Lemaître's words immediately brightened Perenafil Lemaître's cloudy eyes.
"????"
Albus Dumbledore was speechless. He wanted to curse, but he was too uncomfortable to do so, so he could only remain silent and take the lead in pulling Nicolas Flamel's suitcase out of the room.
"If it's worth the ticket price, that's great!"
That's why they say people who aren't family don't enter the same door.
You can't have two kinds of people sleeping in the same bed.
Pereñar Lemaître was just about to ask what kind of show to watch.
"Master, what about these two fashion show tickets?" The house-elf who suddenly appeared interrupted her, and her expression changed visibly.
"What fashion show! What kind of weird stuff did you pick up outside! I don't know! Don't frame me!" Nick Flamel was immediately alarmed and chased after Albus Dumbledore outside the door.
"Apparition! Quick! Apparition now!"
His legs and feet were surprisingly agile at that moment, unlike those of a skeletal old man who was several hundred years old.
"Why don't you take some wraps and eat them there?"
Pereñar Lemaître chased after her, but she was perhaps a little slow in adding the razor blade to the burrito, which made her a step too late to catch up with her husband.
Hogsmeade Village.
Nick Flamel was brought here by Albus Dumbledore. Although he was a wizard of considerable skill, his dormant magic was clearly insufficient to support him in traversing such a long distance on his own.
"I want a room big enough."
Nicolas Lemaître went ahead.
Albus Dumbledore followed closely behind. On the bustling street, many wizards glanced at them, some even gasping in surprise upon seeing Nicolas Flamel.
This caused the old man and the even older man to quicken their pace. A gentle breeze blew through the secluded village as they passed beneath an old, weathered tree.
A fallen leaf was accidentally blown up by the wind, and after Albus Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel passed by, it twirled lightly in the air and slowly drifted down onto the chessboard under the old tree.
Two middle-aged men are playing chess.
They were dressed simply and were inconspicuous on the street.
"What's the meaning behind your move?"
One of the middle-aged men slowly placed his piece, as if he were asking about more than just the game on the board.
"You know I'm doing what I'm supposed to do, aren't I?" The middle-aged man on the other side was engrossed in the chess game, his voice devoid of any emotional fluctuation.
"But you must have done more than what you were supposed to do, I saw it all clearly." The blond middle-aged man spoke softly, his gaze fixed on the person opposite him.
"I'm doing what I'm supposed to do, but that doesn't mean I can't have any other options." The middle-aged man spoke in a low voice, and his hair, which was fluttering in the wind, looked unnaturally thick.
"Look at me, do you think I'll have a good outcome?" The blond middle-aged man shook his head slightly. The bronze-colored ring on the finger he used to move the chess pieces was particularly eye-catching.
"I am the latecomer, and I will surpass you." The middle-aged man with thick hair spoke with strong confidence as he moved his piece to capture the opponent's knight.
"Then good luck." The blond middle-aged man wasn't annoyed. He moved his pieces again and checkmated the opponent's king in one turn.
The game of chess is over.
The blond middle-aged man spread out his hands as his opponent frowned and remained silent.
"I won! Pay up!"
The blond middle-aged man had a very bright smile on his face.
"You're cheating."
The middle-aged man with thick hair didn't move. He seemed to be reneging on the debt, but in reality—he was genuinely unconvinced. This guy clearly felt that the match had been rigged.
"That's cheating."
The blond middle-aged man raised his hand, made a snapping motion in the air, and took a Galleon from the other man's purse. The middle-aged man whose coin was taken showed no surprise or shock.
"Good thing you're about to get lost."
The middle-aged man with thick hair sighed.
"It's a pity this semester isn't over yet, but I managed to steal my rightful reward, so it's not a bad deal." The blond middle-aged man stood up and walked into the distance.
Under the gaze of a middle-aged man with thick hair.
He disappeared into the crowd.
"I'll come again next year, but of course, I'll be here under a different identity."
A childish voice rang out.
Amidst the surging crowd.
The blond boy turned to look at Hogwarts Castle. His gaze seemed to transcend distance, reflecting the image of a young wizard struggling to open a gift box inside the castle.
"It won't open!!"
Ian had been fiddling around in the Room of Requirement for hours.
"Eight-tenths of a halo!"
"Shadowless Storm!"
"Damn it! Avada Kedavra!"
A gift box from Santa Claus.
He blew it into the sky.
They are whipping it with fierce fire again.
however.
The gift box remained completely undamaged.