Chapter 193: We Are Lady Erila...
The Vanishing Cabinet shook violently a few times, then returned to calm after several seconds.
"Let's go. We've arrived," Duncan said, reaching out to open the tightly shut cabinet doors.
Fred and George looked at each other, and the only emotion on their faces was disbelief—pure disbelief. If a cabinet could sway a bit and take you somewhere else, then what did all that bumping about in the Floo Network every time they traveled mean?
"Duncan is here, Duncan is here!" As the doors opened, a bizarre voice drifted in from outside. The pitch never rose or fell, accompanied by a faint clack-clack of gears, like an old robot crying out.
The Weasley twins froze for a moment, pressed their two heads together, and peered eagerly through the crack between the cabinet doors. Within sight stood all kinds of amusing contraptions and many objects that looked downright wondrous.
Several transparent glass tubes twisted and turned along one wall, with dark-blue and bottle-green liquids flowing inside, dripping into glass bottles connected at the ends. Five or six cauldrons on the nearest worktable were puffing steam, and a number of metallic, gleaming hands were flying up and down around them, constantly processing and adding ingredients into the cauldrons, occasionally stirring the potions—nimble and quick.
A silver robot, just over ten centimeters tall, paced back and forth on the tabletop, the gears exposed at its chest turning with a clack-clack as it kept calling Duncan's name. A black, square box sat on the top shelf, engraved with fine golden patterns; the moment one stared at it in earnest, one couldn't help but let out a "heh-heh" laugh. A bell as long as a little finger hung at the door, and from time to time it rang with a pleasant ding-ling-ling...
Most eye-catching of all was the human-faced crystal ball in the middle of the room, more than half filled with gossamer white mist. It was like drifting clouds in the sky, sometimes gathering at the center, sometimes—as if blown by a breeze—spreading to the edges. Between gathering and scattering, a human face would occasionally surge up in the mist, but the instant one tried to see it clearly, the face blurred at once and melted back into the white fog.
"This place is so cool!" Fred exclaimed, mouth agape.
Shock filled his face completely. His eyes bulged wider and wider, and with their eyelids no longer protecting them, his eyeballs slipped free and dropped toward the floor. With his actions, Fred perfectly demonstrated what it means for one's eyes to pop out in astonishment!
"Careful!" George scrambled to catch Fred's eyeballs, then gingerly stuffed them back into his eye sockets.
Fred didn't bother with such a trifle. He quickly turned his head and asked, "Duncan, where is this place? How did we get here?"
"The cabinet we're in is called a Vanishing Cabinet. Normally there are two, and they're identical to each other. Go into one and you can come out of the other," Duncan explained as he stepped out of the Vanishing Cabinet. "As for where we are?"
Duncan smiled and asked, "Have you heard of Nicolas Flamel? This is his home. The Vanishing Cabinet is what he sent me this morning!"
"Nicolas Flamel?" Fred murmured in confusion. He had a nagging feeling he'd come across the name somewhere, but he couldn't quite place it.
"Nicolas Flamel?" Neville said, eyes widening. His eyeballs also slipped from their sockets, landed on the floor with a plop, and bounced, rolling toward a corner.
Duncan swished his wand to retrieve Neville's eyeballs and, as he set them back, said, "Neville, steady now. You mustn't get too excited at the moment!"
"B-but this is Nicolas Flamel's home!" Neville tilted his head back, doing his best not to let his eyes fall out, his voice filled with astonishment.
Before joining Fred and George's start-up team, he had spent all his time in the library helping Hermione search for information on Nicolas Flamel. He hadn't expected that after only a few weeks, legend would turn into reality. He had made it to Nicolas's house and might even get to see Nicolas himself with his own eyes!
How was he supposed to calm down and act as cool as a robot?
"Who is he? Why are you so surprised, Neville?" George asked.
Neville looked up at the Weasley twins. Seeing the puzzlement on their faces, for the first time he felt proud of the knowledge in his head. "Nicolas Flamel is a legendary alchemist, and he's lived for over six hundred years!"
"An alchemist..." the Weasley twins murmured, then suddenly raised their voices and shouted together, "Over six hundred years—he's really... lived long enough! How did he manage that?!"
Neville had just opened his mouth to answer when a voice, tinged with laughter, drifted over from not far away: "It's not very polite to discuss an old man's age behind his back!"
Fred, George, and Neville hurriedly jumped out of the Vanishing Cabinet and cocked their heads toward the source of the voice. An old man with a head of silver hair, a withered frame, and wrinkled skin was standing on a staircase that was clacking as it slid downward, smiling broadly at them.
"Mr. Flamel, I've come to see you. These are the good friends I mentioned in my letter," Duncan said, stepping up to support Nicolas.
"Mr. Nicolas Flamel, hello, very pleased to meet you. We are Lady Erila. We've always lived in a remote place!"
Fred and George stepped forward in perfect sync, beaming as they spoke, casually inventing the name of a species.
"Oh?" Nicolas turned his gaze to the group, working hard to suppress the surprise on his face and keep his smile steady.
He hadn't heard of anything called "Lady Erila," but looking at the Weasley twins' strange, abstract visages, he believed it deep down. He hadn't expected that, besides befriending magical creatures, Duncan also enjoyed making contact with such odd and curious races.
Worthy indeed of being Newt's descendant, of the Scamander family—truly the student surpassing the teacher, out of the ordinary! Nicolas Flamel instantly grew solemn with respect!
"Don't listen to their nonsense!" Duncan cut off Nicolas's wool-gathering. "They blew up a cauldron while brewing a potion, and the contents splashed on their faces. That's why they look so hideous at the moment."
"The cauldron exploded? That was really careless," Nicolas said after a few seconds' pause, giving the group a fresh, thoughtful once-over. "When you were brewing, did you happen to add Wartcap powder and Shrake spines to the boiling cauldron at the same time?"
Neville thought for a moment with his little head, then blurted in shock, "How did you know?"
"Hey, Neville!" Fred slung an arm over Neville's shoulder and said as a matter of course, "He's a master alchemist. Isn't it only natural he'd know this sort of thing?"
He took the information Neville had told him earlier and, roundabout, used it to flatter Nicolas.
"This fellow is definitely up to no good," Duncan thought, and decisively moved to separate Nicolas from Fred. "Do you have a way to restore them to normal?"
"Of course. Just give me a moment," Nicolas replied with a smile, as lightly as if he were discussing what to have for the next meal.
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