Chapter 109: The Strange Nicolas Flamel
Chapter 109: The Strange Nicolas Flamel
Sherlock watched Nicolas Flamel, who was surrounded by a group of Wizards, and then glanced at the tightly closed doors of the house in the courtyard. He recalled the scene when Nicolas Flamel had emerged.
It seemed he had come from the back garden, not from inside the house.
This was a minor detail, but Sherlock noticed it with his keen attention to detail.
"Let's go over there", Fleur said, noticing Nicolas Flamel talking to the visitors. She called Sherlock and Harry over, and they joined the crowd at the periphery.
"I apologize to all of you. Perenelle and I were in Lyon a few days ago and only returned today, causing you to wait in Paris for so long."
Nicolas Flamel appeared to be a very gentle old man. After greeting the visitors, he apologized.
"Moreover, due to my absence, you all gathered at my home on the same day, and my house couldn't accommodate all of you. So, I had to meet you outside. However, I understand your intentions, and while it's not entirely appropriate to speak here, let's move to the back of the yard. There's a clear space there."
They followed Nicolas Flamel around to the back of the yard.
As they walked past the Flamels' house, Sherlock took a closer look at the garden.
The Flamels' house had a large backyard that could easily accommodate the dozen or so Wizards gathered there.
But for some reason, he had chosen to meet outside the house.
As Nicolas Flamel had mentioned, there was indeed a sizable open area behind the yard, secluded and far from any Muggles. A dense forest lay not far away.
It seemed he had prepared for this, with chairs and small round tables set up on the lawn. Some pastries and teacups were also placed on the tables, making it look like an outdoor tea party.
The visitors gathered around the tables and took their seats, and Nicolas Flamel collected the letters of introduction from each of them.
He stood in the center and addressed the group.
"A long life has made me weary of living, and death is something everyone must face."
"Last year, I realized this truth. After discussing it with my wife Perenelle, we decided to destroy the Philosopher's Stone. We planned to meet our end and prevent the Philosopher's Stone from falling into the hands of those with ill intent."
"However, the Philosopher's Stone is the greatest work of my life. Even in fragments, it retains immense magical power."
"So, I intend to distribute these fragments. I will give them to the first-year generation of the Wizarding World, leaving a final gift for this wondrous magical world before I depart."
The visitors applauded, impressed by Nicolas Flamel's selflessness. They were all beneficiaries of his generosity.
Sherlock also admired the old man's mindset. Immortality and the Philosopher's Stone, both so easily relinquished.
Riddle, for instance, had fragmented his soul to achieve immortality, and the Malfoy family had been fickle for decades, sacrificing their reputation for wealth and status.
But this old man cast it all aside like it was nothing.
He pulled a blood-red, fine crystal from his pocket, and under the sunlight, it shimmered with a dazzling brilliance.
"A fragment of the Philosopher's Stone, still retaining enough magical power to make it a powerful alchemical item. As for its uses, you can explore that once you have it."
Nicolas Flamel put the fragment back in his pocket.
At that moment, Sherlock noticed a familiar symbol on the arm Nicolas Flamel briefly exposed when he put his hand down. He was momentarily stunned.
Nicolas Flamel continued.
"But simply giving you the fragments would be too easy and boring. So, I have a little game in mind."
"There are twenty-three fragments of the Philosopher's Stone, and there are seventeen of you. I have hidden the fragments in that forest over there."
He pointed to the nearby forest.
"You can search for them in the forest. Whatever you find, it's yours, regardless of how many you find."
Someone couldn't help but ask, "What if we don't find any?"
"Then I'm afraid you'll have to accept that. Whether you find any or not is up to your luck", Nicolas Flamel said loudly. "And to ensure fairness, you cannot use magic while searching. You can leave your wands with me before entering the forest."
After hearing this, the visitors began to murmur among themselves.
"Seventeen people searching for twenty-three fragments, the odds are pretty good that everyone will find one", Fleur said, eager to begin.
Sherlock, however, frowned.
"Why this game? What if conflicts arise during the search?"
"Conflicts?" Harry asked, puzzled.
"If you find two fragments and encounter someone who hasn't found any, wouldn't they envy you? Might they try to take one or even both from you?"
Fleur and Harry heard Sherlock's words and both fell silent.
They took a look around. The young wizards surrounding them were enthusiastically discussing how they would search for the Philosopher's Stone fragments once they entered the forest. Fleur hesitated and said,
"Everyone seems pretty harmonious. They probably wouldn't do something like that."
Sherlock didn't respond to Fleur. He was deep in thought, staring at Nicolas Flamel.
He felt that the little game of searching for the Philosopher's Stone fragments, which Flamel had mentioned at the end, didn't quite match his earlier statements. What troubled him more was the symbol he had seen on three people in just two days.
Just as he felt something was off, the game of searching for the Philosopher's Stone fragments had already begun.
A wizard, eager to start, stood up from his chair, left his wand with Nicolas Flamel, and then entered the forest.
Almost all the visitors followed suit, handing over their wands to Nicolas Flamel for safekeeping before entering the woods.
Soon, only Sherlock, Harry, and Fleur were left sitting on the lawn.
Fleur couldn't wait any longer.
"Aren't you planning to participate? Didn't you come to France to obtain the Philosopher's Stone fragments from Mr. Flamel?"
Harry also looked up at Sherlock, but Sherlock shook his head.
"Visiting Nicolas Flamel was just a side trip. My main purpose for this journey was to relax. As for the Philosopher's Stone fragments..." Sherlock smiled. "I have only a passing interest in them. Perhaps a complete Philosopher's Stone might make me reconsider. If you want to give it a try, don't worry about us. Go ahead."
Fleur stood up from her chair.
"I'll give it a try then. If I find two, I'll share one with you."
Sherlock raised an eyebrow.
"Then I'll thank you in advance for your generosity."
Fleur walked over to Nicolas Flamel, handed him her wand, and then entered the forest.
Now, only Sherlock, Harry, and Nicolas Flamel were left.
Nicolas Flamel clearly noticed them. He approached them with a smile and asked,
"Aren't you planning to try it out?"
Sherlock waved his hand.
"This trip is a journey with my student. It's already a great honor to meet you in person. The Philosopher's Stone fragments should be left for those more suited to the task."
Nicolas Flamel looked at Sherlock and Harry, recalling the letter of recommendation they had given him before sitting down.
"You are wizards from Britain, recommended by Dumbledore."
Hearing him mention Dumbledore, Sherlock's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Yes, sir. I am Sherlock Forest, the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts, and this is my student, Harry Potter."
"Harry Potter!"
Upon hearing this name, Nicolas Flamel's face lit up with surprise, and he turned his gaze to Harry.
"To meet you here is quite unexpected."
Strangely, after learning Harry's identity, he became interested in the wand Harry had in his pocket.
"Is this your wand?"
Harry, taken aback, took out his wand and handed it to Nicolas Flamel.
"Yes, I bought it at Ollivander's Wand Shop."
Nicolas Flamel took Harry's wand and gently caressed the shaft with both hands.
"Holly, about eleven inches. This wood often chooses owners who favor dangerous and noble tasks, Harry Potter. You are a perfect match for it."
He whispered and then waved Harry's wand.
"Lilies bloom."
A beautiful lily flower blossomed at the tip of the wand.
"Ah, the core is a phoenix feather. It's not easy to pair with holly, but when they do, it becomes an unbeatable wand."
Nicolas Flamel expressed great admiration for Harry's wand and then handed it back to him.
Sherlock, who had been silently observing, noticed a hint of restrained greed in his brown eyes. The way he handed the wand back to Harry seemed awkward, almost reluctant to let go.
"I need to excuse myself for a moment. You can rest here. It shouldn't be long before someone returns from the forest with a Philosopher's Stone fragment."
He nodded to Sherlock and Harry, then carried the box of wands into his courtyard.
After his figure disappeared around the corner, Sherlock's gaze turned cold, and he stood up from his chair.
"Go back to the car and wait for me, Harry." His voice was calm. "Wait in the car for me to return. Remember, when you see me, ask me where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is. If I can't answer, attack me with a spell!"
(End of Chapter)
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