Chapter 251. Two Monsters.
The appearance of an unknown wizard at the exact site of the battle, only a day after it occurred, could hardly have escaped the notice of the Aurors, who were already on edge.
After all, the attack had targeted not just anyone, but Nicholas Flamel himself, a wizard whose contributions to the development of magical France were beyond measure.
For this country, Flamel was what Merlin was to Britain: a legendary and inviolable figure. An attack on him was tantamount to declaring war on all of France.
After all, if the country could not protect even one man, how could it hope to guard its own borders and sovereignty?
How could it protect ordinary folk?
For this reason, over fifty Aurors were already combing the area around the house, turning over every stone, desperate to find any clue about the bastard who had dared to do this.
And Severus's strange reaction could hardly escape their notice. Four Aurors immediately headed toward him.
"Young man, we have a few questions for you." A middle-aged man stepped forward. He had very thick eyebrows and stood slightly taller than Severus. "Asking what happened here is rather foolish: it's obvious enough. But I would like to know: are Mr. and Mrs. Flamel all right?" He shifted his frowning gaze from the ruined building to the wizard in front of him.
Severus, however, had no intention of answering them. He immediately skimmed the surface thoughts of the four Aurors, and after a few seconds let out a breath of relief, which only made them warier.
"Young man, we are the ones asking questions here."
"Yes, my apologies." A parchment appeared in Severus's hand, and he held it out to the Aurors. *Apparently I've grown too careless, if I thought for even a moment that old man could be so easily wounded or killed…* He smirked and shook his head, then raised his gaze to the Auror studying his temporary permit. "Is everything in order?"
"Um… yes…" Not a trace remained of the earlier threat in the man's voice, replaced by nervousness at the sight of the name, the surname, and the seal of the Minister of Magic himself, a seal never placed on just anyone.
"Mr. Flamel and I are on friendly terms. I wanted to ask his advice on a matter."
"Ah… I see. Quite understandable. We apologize for the suspicion, but you must understand…" At this, the subordinates behind him were stunned; it was all so unexpected. "Mr. and Mrs. Flamel are perfectly fine. They managed to repel the attack and are currently at the Ministry of Magic headquarters."
"I understand. Thank you for the answer." He took the parchment back and slipped it into his pouch. "But are there any suspects?"
"We're working on it. By evening, we'll have found the culprits."
"I see. Then I won't keep you from your work any longer. Good day, and good luck with the investigation."
"And to you, Monsieur Severus." Only at the mention of that surname did realization dawn on the Aurors behind him, followed by shock.
Severus cast one last glance at the destroyed building, gave the Aurors a slight nod, and apparated from the site of the previous night's confrontation.
"Is that the Severus? Is he really that young?" one of the subordinates asked with genuine amazement, turning to the thick-browed man.
"Yes. Which is why the list of people better left alone is worth studying carefully."
"But you yourself were the one who..." another began, but catching the menacing glare of this bear of a man, he quickly fell silent.
"Did you say something?"
"Yes! We need to get back to work!" The others nodded in unison like bobbleheads, then quickly turned and scattered to their respective groups, leaving their superior alone.
"If only my squad had subordinates who were so understanding…" the man sighed sadly, pulling out a pack of Muggle cigarettes.
*And it wouldn't hurt me to go through that list myself…* He lit the cigarette with a small flame that flickered to life at his fingertip, exhaled a stream of smoke, and went back to watching his colleagues work.
*But… even after meeting him in person, it's hard to believe a boy like that could have done everything listed in his file…*
---
Severus had no particular desire to go to the Ministry, so he simply sent a message to Flamel through the gift he had received, asking: "What happened? Who did this? Is it possible to meet?"
He received a reply within fifteen minutes, containing an address for a meeting place only two blocks from the destroyed house and a time that evening. Flamel added nothing else, merely noting at the end that he was busy.
Rather than waste time, Severus returned to analyzing the potion and refining the recipe.
And so, just as he had for the past week, he remained locked in his laboratory until nearly evening.
Though he hadn't managed to find anything particularly new, he did notice and correct a few minor flaws he'd overlooked the day before. Even so, they were unlikely to have any significant effect on the potion…
---
At eight that evening, Severus Apparated to the Flamels' new address, having fortunately passed by that house before.
The building that greeted him had clearly been destroyed only recently. A decent-looking house had once stood here, not this half-crumbling structure in desperate need of repair, or at the very least, a fresh coat of paint.
But this didn't particularly surprise him. As he approached the door and was about to knock, a click sounded, and the door, straight out of the best Muggle horror films, slowly creaked open.
"Mr. Flamel, have you been watching too many horror films?" Severus calmly pushed the door open himself; at that rate, it would have taken until morning. Stepping inside, he found the Flamel couple peacefully sipping tea.
And, just as with the outside, the interior of the building remained completely unchanged, as though nothing had happened at all.
"Whatever do you mean?" Nicholas looked calmly at the smiling young man who had closed the door behind him.
"Never mind." Severus's gaze swept over the surroundings, and he shook his head with a sigh. "Wasn't this attack a good enough reason to change things around?"
"I told you, even the boy agrees with me, you old blockhead," Perenelle grumbled from across the table, summoning a chair from under the staircase.
"Hmph! We agreed the first floor is mine, and I won't have anything moved around here! I'd never be able to find anything afterward!"
"And what do you think Accio is for?!"
"It's inconvenient for me that way!"
"I apologize for interrupting," Severus began, but Perenelle, suddenly seeming to remember they weren't alone, offered him a sweet smile, feeling awkward about losing her composure in front of a guest.
"We'll finish this later," she said, glaring menacingly at Nicholas as she rose from the table and headed toward the stairs. "Have a pleasant evening." And with those words, she disappeared around the corner.
Silence hung in the air. To break the tension, Flamel coughed into his fist a couple of times.
"I apologize that you had to witness that…" He looked at Severus, embarrassed. "It's a normal conversation after every move."
"I see..." Severus finally sat at the table. A notebook appeared in his hand; he held it out, followed by a small vial of dark liquid. "I've completed the research and created a trial potion. I'd value your opinion."
"Hm..." Taking the notebook, Flamel produced a pair of glasses. Putting them on, he opened it to the first page. Severus immediately noticed the lenses flash briefly; then Nicholas began rapidly turning the pages, one after another, his eyes darting left and right with incredible speed.
*Are those speed-reading glasses...? But how...?* Severus couldn't hide his amazement at the sight of the artifact. *Where did he get geosite?! I searched for so long and couldn't find anything, not even anything with similar properties...*
As the name implied, speed-reading glasses helped one read much faster by sending all information directly to the brain.
It was precisely thanks to geosite that the negative effects were minimized; in some cases, if the reading speed was low enough, there were no side effects at all.
But reading with such glasses without geosite, if one wasn't an Archimagus, could cause the brain to simply burn out, even at a mere sixteenfold increase in speed.
Although such glasses were useless to him after creating the Grimoire (he could already copy information directly into his mind), geosite would be invaluable for crafting artifacts that employed mind magic.
It would also be useful for the very glasses he had created, which had recently begun to be used in the British Ministry of Magic, reducing the strain on the brain when activating the full three-hundred-sixty-degree view or during extended use.
So the question of where Flamel had obtained it intrigued him greatly.
Just five minutes later, Flamel removed his glasses and set them on the table. He looked at Severus with surprise, then at the vial, which made him tremble.
"A terrifying poison. This could easily kill even a dragon..."
"Those wyverns can be killed with ordinary poison too," Severus said, waving it off listlessly. "So, what do you think?"
"Hm... this will be difficult... very difficult. I can't say for certain until I see the magical circle..." But before he could finish, a screen lit up above the table, displaying the very magical circle Severus had been working on for the past year. "Now this is an entirely different matter..." At the sight of the sheer complexity, the tangle of curves and lines that were actually magical formulas written in impossibly small script, Flamel's eyes lit up. It had been a very long time since he'd seen work so remarkable and intricate. "Mr. Severus... you are a monster..." he added with a nervous chuckle, zooming in on one of the lines and finding a full thirty rows of runes.
"I would like to see the Philosopher's St…" But before Severus could finish, a simple, unadorned wooden box appeared on the table, covered with several dozen protective charms that could easily kill anyone unaware of them. Even if one were aware, it was impossible to remove them one by one without knowing their precise sequence and nature. *What a terrifying toy…* A familiar golden dagger appeared in Severus's hand. He lightly touched the blade to the keyhole, and with a soft pop, every single charm shattered in an instant. Flamel looked up at Severus in mild surprise, then glanced down at the blade.
"Mr. Severus, where did you get this?" Flamel asked with a frown. His expression made it clear he recognized the object.
"A gift from my teacher. My house was attacked once, and there was nothing I could do. The attackers were highly skilled wizards. My teacher dealt with them; I'm sure you've heard about that incident. He took this from the leader's body, called it a useless artifact, and gave it to me." Severus lied calmly, without batting an eye. "Do you know something about it?"
"Young man, you would do well to destroy that thing, or never take it out at all," Flamel said with utmost seriousness, looking him straight in the eye.
"This interests my teacher, not me." Putting the dagger away, Severus picked up the box.
"Then convey these words to your teacher: no one should get involved with that organization."
"I'll pass your words along. By the way, do you know who attacked you?" Severus asked, lifting the box and deciding to change the subject for now. *I doubt he'll tell me anything about them at the moment, but I'm in no hurry anyway. There's still plenty of time before '79 and the meeting at the Teachers' Guild, and I need to focus on something far more important right now…*
"No," Flamel sighed wearily and shook his head. "Such things happen quite often. We're used to it by now, and we're not so easily defeated."
"I won't ask about the reason for the attack. That's obvious enough."
"The Philosopher's Stone is both a gift and a curse," Flamel said, melancholy in his voice, glancing at the box. Then, putting his glasses back on, he set about studying the magical circle.
*Tsk! Forgot to ask about the geosite… oh well, I'll do it later. And now…* His eyes gleaming, Severus opened the box. Inside lay a precious stone resembling a ruby, the size of a grown man's fist. But what truly stunned him was the incredible volume of magic and life force overflowing from it, as if a genuine magical source lay before him. Under its influence, the concentration of magical power in the living room multiplied many times over and continued to climb. *That damned old monster… and he has the nerve to call me a monster…*
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