Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 76 The Secret of the Legendary Wizard

"From then on, I stopped studying the Book of Abraham and instead traveled around areas where the plague hadn't completely subsided, helping residents burn corpses and sending infected Muggles on their final journey. In my spare time, I read books and studied alchemy.

"In the early 15th century, Paris would still experience intermittent outbreaks of small-scale plague. Decades later, Muggles completely emerged from the shadow of the Black Death, and I finally discovered that the magic that Muggles had given me, which I could not capture, had always been hidden deep in my soul.

"By then, I had already figured out the method for refining the Philosopher's Stone. I used a ritual to fuse those tiny strands of magic into the ruby, which later became the Philosopher's Stone."

Nicolas Flamel finished his story slowly, moistening his throat with the mead on the table.

For the past half hour, the old wizard has turned the topic of drama and film to the Black Death six hundred years ago. The oral accounts of those who experienced it have a shocking sense of epic, but this allegorical guessing game is very boring, and any interpretation seems to make sense.

Is this kind of magic the key element in refining the Philosopher's Stone?
The magic power Nicolas Flamel collected was of a different nature than the one he collected?

"..."

Melvin thought for a moment and couldn't help but say, "Sir, if you have anything you want to tell me, just tell me directly... What exactly is that magic power drawn from Muggles? Are there any hidden dangers? Could this also be the knowledge in that book, and is it cursed?"

"No, the knowledge I have gained through my own exploration has nothing to do with Abraham, and there is no curse. I am telling you these things because I am about to die. Looking back on the past, do you know that Albus regards death as a new adventure? I am different from him." Nicolas Flamel's answer was very frank.

He had seen too much death before he achieved immortality, and realized that the lives of Muggles and wizards alike were short, and that the lives of humans and ants were just as fragile.

Over the past few hundred years, he had enjoyed the pleasures brought by wealth and a long life, but as his body gradually aged, his flesh withered, his bones became brittle, and the slightest collision would cause him injuries. This fragility always reminded him of the plague patients thrown on the streets, which made him feel terrified.

When he was about three or four hundred years old, he tried his best to avoid putting himself in danger, hiding his identity and living in seclusion.

Until fifty years ago, an uneducated wizard and a reckless Muggle broke into his residence and dragged him to put out a fire that almost burned down the whole of Paris.

He had become more open-minded after that, but not to the same extent as Albus.

After all, he was just an ordinary wizard with some talent.

Sunlight shone in from the window. The old wizard sitting in the bright light took a sip of mead, picked up a French fry and put it down again. When he took a deep breath, the air passed through the loose gaps between his teeth, making a hissing sound, which relieved the soreness and swelling of his gums.

Seeing the legendary wizard who was just telling history make this gesture, Melvin suddenly felt that he had become much more lively. He used to be a symbol standing there, but now he was an ordinary wizard who came alive.

This feeling made him feel a little sad involuntarily, and he knew the reason very well - this ordinary old wizard was about to die.

"Spending so much time with Albus has certainly tainted me with some bad habits," Nicolas Flamel chuckled. "Regarding that magical power, I've spent hundreds of years researching documents and have indeed gained some information. Throughout history, we're not the only ones who have captured that magic. The four founders of Hogwarts, the wizard Merlin, and the dark wizard Hercule, have also done so."

"They're all legendary wizards." Melvin's mind moved, and he asked thoughtfully, "Do they spread their reputations and influence among the wizarding community to gather magic power?"

"Emotions are the emanation of the soul, and the soul is the source of magic." Nicolas Flamel spoke slowly. "The four founders taught their students to advocate courage, wisdom, kindness, and honor. As more and more wizard students spread their names, they grew faster and faster, and in a very short time, they far surpassed other wizards of their time."

"You mean...Merlin and Herpo are like this too?" Melvin reacted.

"It's just my one-sided guess." Nicolas Flamel carefully considered his words. "Perhaps they themselves don't realize that their growth rate, which far exceeds that of their peers, isn't due to talent, or isn't solely due to talent."

"They absorbed this magic..." Melvin repeated softly.

The Big Four founded the school and it grew rapidly;
Merlin became a legend after assisting King Arthur in ascending the throne;

Haierbo's life story is unclear, but his reputation is indeed great.

He thought of his own growth process. He was favored by four houses during the sorting. In the following years, he showed his talents but was still within normal limits, just like his senior sister Seraphina Picquery, and just like Hermione now.

After receiving the gift from the horned water snake, he completed his transformation in just two years.

With the advent of the Shadow Mirror, if nothing unexpected happens, Melvin Levent's name will become known in the wizarding world.

Melvin looked at the old wizard sitting in the sun with a strange look in his eyes.

Compared with the legendary wizards mentioned above, although Mr. Flamel has a loud reputation, he seems to have no deterrent power, and there is no news of any duel record.

"It is precisely because I am weaker than them that I have survived until now." Nicolas Flamel seemed to sense his impolite thoughts, but did not mind. "There is a Muggle saying that there is no free lunch in the world. Transfiguration cannot summon food out of thin air. The same is true for magic. Any gain must be paid for."

There was a breeze blowing outside the window, mixed with the faint sound of pedestrians' footsteps. Melvin frowned slightly. The old wizard's voice was very soft, but it could be clearly heard by his ears.

"The magic power gained from others contains the will of others. Thousands of weak wills gather together, like streams flowing into the ocean and creating huge waves. This collective will constantly impacts the wizard's own will and distorts his or her own thoughts." The old wizard's voice was calm. "By that time, will the wizard who is swept up by the will of others still be his or her original self?"

Melvin thought about what he said, and a faint chill arose at his back, like the spring chill after the snow in February thawed.

In a matter of seconds, Melvin suddenly understood many things: the reason for Helbo's bizarre suicide, Merlin being trapped by the lake maiden Vivian in his later years, and the disintegration of the four founders...

No wonder these wizards who were famous in their youth always had bad luck in their later years.

"Legendary wizards are legendary wizards after all. They represent the brightest stars in the history of magic. The four founders were very perceptive. After their bodies showed signs of abnormality, they quickly made containers to cleanse the foreign will in their bodies. There is the sword of Gryffindor, the diadem of Ravenclaw, and the gold cup of Hufflepuff. Slytherin is the most mysterious, and he even gave up his reputation and left school. It's a pity that I don't know how far he has gone on this road, and whether he succeeded in the end." Nicolas Flamel said softly.

"In order to cleanse this will, Herpo tore his own soul apart to create a Horcrux..." Melvin recalled the records about the dark wizard, and was reminded of another dark wizard who made a Horcrux, Tom Riddle.

During his student days, Voldemort was meticulous in his planning, opening the Chamber of Secrets to release the Basilisk and framing Hagrid, a truth Dumbledore still hasn't uncovered. His investigation into his blood relatives, killing the Riddle family and framing Morfin Gaunt, was a flawless scheme. However, two years before graduation, his formation of the Death Eaters based on pure-blood beliefs, the murder of Smith to steal his treasure and framing a house-elf, was somewhat crude. Later, as the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord's reputation grew, Voldemort began to show signs of losing control.

Riddle used to be a gentle and ambitious man, but later he became a violent and cruel dark wizard who was insidious and cunning but no longer had the wisdom he once had.

Will I be like Voldemort in the future, with myself twisted by the will of others?

"You mean... I should stop absorbing magic power?" Melvin asked tentatively, frowning tightly.

"No, I don't have that idea." Nicolas Flamel spread his hands. "Even a prophet can't fully predict the future. I'm just relaying my experiences and the information I've learned to you. It may be a bit long-winded, but I sincerely hope you can understand the true nature of magic and embark on a path no one has ever walked before."

"I'm sorry to say I can't leave you the Book of Abraham. I only have a limited understanding of how to refine the Philosopher's Stone..." Nicolas Flamel said softly, handing over a notebook. "This contains some of my research, which should be helpful to you."

This was a very plain notebook, bound in kraft paper, with no title on the cover. Melvin simply flipped through two pages. It recorded conversations between Nicolas Flamel and many famous wizards. The contents were all handwritten, and the wizard, who was a scribe, had neat handwriting. There were exquisite illustrations next to it, and even the clothes and accessories of the conversation partners were drawn in bright colors, with gold powder mixed in the ink, making them sparkle.

It looks like it was drawn by Nicolas Flamel's wife and looks like a children's story picture book.

"Paracelsus, Astrology at the End of the Fifteenth Century..."

Melvin raised his head and was about to ask a question, but when he saw the old man's expression, he lowered his voice and carefully put away the notebook on the table.

The six-hundred-year-old wizard sat quietly in a high-backed chair by the window, his silver-white hair hanging down on his shoulders, sparse and neat, his eyes half-open, the sunlight shining through the fine lines on his face, revealing a hint of fatigue.

"That's all, Melvin. I can only help you so far." The old wizard said softly.

Melvin stood up and bowed slightly. "Goodbye, Mr. Flamel."

"I guess we won't see each other again."

"..."

"It was just a joke." Nicolas Flamel opened his eyes, a faint smile on his lips. "Don't rush to pay your respects to me. Perenelle and I have to go back to deal with the inheritance. I hope to see your mirror in Paris."

"I won't keep you waiting too long." Melvin nodded and turned to leave.

Watching the young professor's back gradually disappear into the distance, Nicolas Flamel slowly sat up and spread out his hands again. A mysterious ancient book emerged in his palms, with brass tightly fitted on the spine. Inside, page after page was filled with ancient, almost extinct text, recording obscure alchemy. Each group consisted of seven pages, each group switching to a different language, and there was no text on the seventh page of each group.

But on page seven of the first set, there was a picture of an Ouroboros wrapped around a wand.

……

Leaving Hogsmeade and walking along the winding path, Melvin walked into the school gate with warthog wings spread out, strolled in the field where the snow had melted, and the cool and moist moisture lingered in his breath.

Looking at the school castle under the blue sky, he had heard the name of Hogwarts in the future, and he had seen what the castle looked like in the past, with towering towers, dense forests beside it, and rolling hills in the distance.

He walked in the wet field, walking out of the history of six hundred years ago with the memories of thirty years later. He felt light and mysterious, like a raven hovering above the long river of history. Looking back, he saw Nicolas Flamel copying letters six hundred years ago, and looking forward, he saw Voldemort turning to ashes five years later.

Several towers were lit with fires from their fireplaces, and the blue skyline melted into the firelight. There was also a fire in the window of the gamekeeper's cabin, and in the distance was a wide lake, and the sunlight reflected on the water, making the waves sparkle.

Those legendary wizards who have only been read in books are like the light on the ripples, pushed and dragged by the waves and water waves, constantly rippling along the predetermined trajectory, rushing towards the distant future.

After Nicolas Flamel finished his story in the morning, he took a sip of the butterbeer. The Three Broomsticks' butterbeer had a lot of foam and a salty-sweet taste. Nicolas Flamel drank it for a long time, not leaving a single drop. He sat at the table and talked with Melvin, with yellow hops staining his robe.

Melvin watched him drink, and saw that he was even more emaciated and shriveled than the Hand of Glory, with beer foam on his clothes, like a yellowed history book eaten by insects.

Nicolas Flamel said he was afraid of death, but when he said he only had two years to live, there was no fear or sadness in his eyes, just like when he talked about his neighbors who died in the plague.

After receiving the gift from the Horned Water Serpent, he accidentally opened up this path. Before he could confirm it, he was warned... Melvin thought about where his future lay, thought about Nicolas Flamel, thought about the Horned Water Serpent, and secretly looked forward to the notes in the notebook.

"Emotions and will, soul and magic..."

Melvin murmured softly, "It's more like faith and God."

At this time, the bushes not far away began to shake.

"Professor Lewynter?" Hermione's voice came from behind the bushes.
"It's so cold outside, why don't you stay in the castle?" Melvin stopped and asked.

"..." The little witch remained expressionless, but her eyes could not help but start to move, secretly glancing at the professor's expression.

It must be admitted that Melvin left a very good impression on students. As a foreign professor, he would not favor any one college, did not care whether Gryffindor lost points, was tolerant and patient with students, and most importantly, had a relatively open-minded attitude towards school rules.

Hermione forced out a sweet smile and said in a flattering tone, "Professor, you and Hagrid are friends, right?"

Melvin couldn't help laughing and glanced at Hagrid's hut. In fact, he already knew that there was a Norwegian Spinosaurus egg hidden in the fire in that hut.

(End of this chapter)