Azkaban students at Hogwarts

The three people present frowned, but no one panicked.

"strangeness."

Flamel was like an ordinary Muggle old man, cleaning up the debris on the floor with a broom; while cleaning, he muttered:

"Let me think about it... I need to release this shrinking state first."

When Roman heard this, he wanted to take out the powerful antidote he had prepared, but found that Dumbledore shook his head at him in a cryptic manner.

Nico Flamel was minding his own business. He came to the workbench, placed the sleeping mini version of Nagini on the table, and wrapped it in a soaked handkerchief.

"It was about 300 years ago. I still remember that day." He smiled and used a brush to apply some kind of reagent on the handkerchief. "Zygmunt Bacchi excitedly said that the shrinking potion was the best choice for people." The best potion of its kind that can be found.”

He looked at the gradually changing color of the handkerchief and sighed: "But now it seems that times have changed."

Flamel's fingers flexibly fiddled with several test tubes, and he used an alcohol lamp to start distilling a lavender liquid.

"Daisy roots, shriveled figs, caterpillars, a drop of mouse bile, a little leech juice." He carefully dropped the distilled liquid on his handkerchief and watched it turn a wonderful pink color.

"What a fantastic idea, starting from cultivating figs and adding powerful magical animal blood." Flamel clapped his hands in approval, "I'm afraid this can be used on fire dragons."

"Albus, is this your craft?" Flamel poured the pale golden potion produced by mixing several test tubes onto Nagini and watched as its body began to slowly stretch and expand, "I miss you. You can add another one for the purpose of dragon blood."

Before he finished speaking, Nagini's tail was already on the ground, and her scales were shining in the sunlight coming from the window.

"Although I really want to put on a show of self-effacement, unfortunately, I don't have this opportunity." Dumbledore spread his hands and looked at Roman.

"It's amazing. You are much more talented in potions than your parents."

Nico Flamel didn't pay attention to Roman's shocked eyes and continued to point the wand at Nagini.

An almost weird blood-red pattern began to appear on its scales.

Roman looked at Flamel in confusion, only to find that the old man's face almost lost all movable muscles in an instant, and just hung there stiffly.

"Poor kid, what have you been through? Who on earth would treat a snake like this."

This sentence should have contained strong emotions, but it seemed extremely awkward in Flamel's expressionless statement.

Flamel gently ran his hands over these lines and tried to outline some subtle areas.

"Albus, it seems I still need a little time."

Flamel ignored the two of them, levitated Nagini with his wand, and left in a hurry.

Roman looked at the thick dark gold door that was almost slammed, and cast questioning eyes on Dumbledore.

But Dumbledore stood up and nodded slightly in the direction of the bedroom.

"Madame Flamel, nice to meet you."

Roman stood up quickly, only to see the bedroom door opened, and a pale Madame Flamel walking out.

The old lady was dressed simply and behaved generously, but her expression was very distressed. When she saw Dumbledore, she just forced a smile.

"Nice to see you."

She came to the living room, took out a vial from the cabinet, frowned and drank the potion in it.

"I'm sorry, Albus. I don't have much waking time these days." She gave Dumbledore an apologetic smile, not a pretty one.

"I think it's about time."

She went back to her room, and before she entered the bedroom door, Dumbledore asked in a tone that was afraid of waking up a sleeping person:

"Can I borrow that room?"

"Please help yourself, Albus. Please treat this as your own home." Madame Flamel whispered, closing the door.

The house fell into an eerie silence.

"Is this a side effect of the potion?" Roman looked at the silent Dumbledore.

"No." Dumbledore shook his head.

For a moment, Roman felt that Dumbledore had a lot to say, but in the end he put his hand on Roman's shoulder and gently pushed Roman towards the silver door in the corner.

Roman opened the door at Dumbledore's signal, but it was empty inside.

"Take it."

Dumbledore pressed the Elder Wand to his temple and drew out a ray of silver memory.

Roman didn't hesitate; he conjured a small glass bottle and stored the memory.

"This is...I don't have a pensieve."

"It's not necessary. Just go in and put it out." Dumbledore looked around blankly, with a rare lack of focus in his eyes.

"Go quickly." Dumbledore began to urge him, seeming very anxious.

Roman entered the room with a frown on his face.

As the door closed, it became extremely dark inside.

Roman pulled out the cork and used his wand to pick out Dumbledore's memory. It quickly turned into a cloud of silver mist and scattered in every corner of the room.

Strange surroundings begin to emerge.

He felt like he was separated from his body and began to overlook the entire scene with an omniscient and omnipotent attitude.

A large amount of information appeared in his mind instantly; it was as if everything present was labeled with annotations.

Roman understood that he was carrying out a memory from Dumbledore's perspective.

Dumbledore, who was separated by a wall from him, took one last look at Flamel's house and turned to leave.

Outside the door, he seemed to remember Roman's question and turned to look at the extremely quiet cabin again.

Nico Flamel and his wife were not like this.

"It's time."

Dumbledore almost sighed when he said this.