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Chapter 244: Does He Have a Grudge Against Dumbledore?
Chapter 244: Does He Have a Grudge Against Dumbledore?
The next day, Kyle rubbed his head as he sat up in an antique-looking large bed. He stared blankly at his unfamiliar surroundings, taking a while to remember that he was currently in Paris, at Nicolas Flamel's home.
"Would the esteemed guest like some breakfast?" a shrill voice asked from the other end of the room.
It was a house-elf wearing Goggles.
"Dobby?"
Kyle recalled that this house-elf was named Dobby.
"Yes, esteemed guest... It is an honor that you remember Dobby's name."
Unlike the house-elves in the Hogwarts kitchen, who always seemed terrified, Dobby's behavior was much more normal.
Dressed neatly and properly, he looked more like a butler in an old mansion.
However, they shared one similarity—they were both a bit overly enthusiastic.
Upon seeing Kyle awake, Dobby brought over the toiletries and breakfast all at once.
Steak, sausage, bread, foie gras, French onion soup... The table was filled with various breakfast dishes, enough to feed an elephant.
"That's enough, I really can't eat all of this!" Kyle quickly stopped Dobby from bringing more food and took a hot towel from the nearby tray to wipe his face. "What happened yesterday, and why am I sleeping here?"
Kyle felt groggy and could only recall that he had been invited to Flamel's home and had met Fleur Delacour and Madame Maxime from Beauxbatons.
As for what happened after that and why he was sleeping here, he had no memory of it at all.
"The esteemed guest drank some very strong liquor yesterday, and then fell asleep," Dobby explained. "Master Flamel instructed me to bring you here to rest."
"Strong liquor?" Kyle frowned, as if trying to remember something, but it was still fuzzy.
"Oh, this is it." Dobby took out a bottle. "I specially kept it after they finished drinking yesterday."
Kyle took the bottle, and his expression turned unpleasant.
Aged Fire Whiskey.
And from the date on the bottle, it was from 1933...
Wow, he had been drinking nearly sixty-year-old whiskey? No wonder his head hurt so much.
Ever since he learned the Mind-Closing Spell, he hadn't felt like this in a long time.
And the Mind-Closing Spell only worked against mental magic; liquor was obviously not within its scope.
"Master said you might need this."
Dobby then handed Kyle a bottle of sky-blue potion.
Kyle opened the lid, took a whiff, and then tilted his head back to drink it all in one go.
The next second, Kyle felt a chill throughout his body, and his groggy mind instantly became much clearer. At the same time, he remembered what had happened.
During yesterday's meal, someone had indeed given him a drink that looked like alcohol.
And it was none other than Mackrill, the wizard who had delivered the Merlin Medal to Hogwarts.
However, he had said it was mead at the time, claiming that even young wizards could drink a couple of cups, so Kyle hadn't thought much of it and took a sip.
And that led to the present...
Kyle felt his head throbbing.
Who would have thought... Mackrill, a wizard over a hundred years old and one of the few recipients of the Merlin First-Class Honor, would trick a child under thirteen into drinking Fire Whiskey!
Oh, and let's not forget the Befuddlement Draught he had intended to brew for Kyle.
That weird, brown, bubbly liquid... Kyle had only seen it in Michael's crucible.
Even a dragon would have a hard time with that brew!
For a moment, Kyle wondered if Mackrill had a grudge against Dumbledore... But since he couldn't beat him, he was taking out his frustration by messing with Kyle instead.
As Kyle entered, he was greeted by an astonishingly large orchestra, filling every corner of the hall and playing their instruments with intense focus.
Nicolas Flamel lay on a lounge chair, basking in the sun while enjoying the captivating opera performance.
Noticing Kyle's entrance, he smiled and said, "Tata must have cleared out the food from the kitchen... I guess that means you're awake now."
Kyle approached Nicolas, his eyes transfixed on the enormous orchestra.
"Mr. Flamel, is this..."
"Oh, you mean this?" Nicolas asked, a proud smile on his face. "This is my most cherished treasure from my long life."
As he spoke, Nicolas rose from his lounge chair.
The melodious opera continued, but the orchestra vanished, and the hall reverted to its previous state.
Kyle noticed the golden symbols on the walls, which had just flickered momentarily.
Those symbols seemed vaguely familiar, as if he had seen them somewhere before... That's right, in Dumbledore's office!
They were almost identical to the ones on the Pensieve.
"Mr. Flamel..."
"We agreed you'd call me Nicolas."
"Okay, Nicolas," Kyle asked, "are these your memories?"
"Indeed..." Nicolas reminisced. "An unforgettable encounter from a hundred years ago, one that I can't help but relive from time to time."
"That's amazing!" Kyle exclaimed.
A Pensieve the size of a room... perhaps only Nicolas Flamel could possess such a thing.
"This is my most prized creation," Nicolas said, changing the tune to a new melody.
Kyle looked around; the hall was empty except for him and Nicolas.
Lowering his voice, Kyle asked, "Nicolas, does Mr. Mackrill have some sort of personal grudge against Professor Dumbledore?"
"Not that I'm aware of..." Nicolas replied. "In fact, they get along quite well, and they're both avid fans of the ten-pin rolling wood ball game.
Before you arrived here, he even promised Albus that he would look after you."
"Tricking me into drinking whiskey?" Kyle said skeptically. "That's a rather unique way of showing care."
"It's not Albus's doing," Nicolas laughed. "Ever since Dug retired, his personality has become more and more unpredictable. Not only you but even Fleur couldn't escape his antics.
Though it seems he forgot about Olympe being here... Oh, right, perhaps hearing this will lift your spirits."
Nicolas clapped his hands, and the atmosphere in the hall abruptly shifted. The melodious music transformed into piercing screams, interspersed with clear and forceful knocking sounds.
Kyle knew this voice all too well; it was none other than Mr. Mackrill's.
He had heard those identical screams yesterday when he entered the potion room, so they left a strong impression.
"Does this mean Madam Maxime..." Kyle asked softly.
"Just as you thought," Nicolas winked, sporting a mischievous grin. "I reckon he won't be going out for quite some time."
Kyle forced a laugh, now convinced that Dumbledore had nothing to do with this.
Tricking him was one thing, but Fleur was a guest, and yet Mackrill had dared to pull a stunt on her too? The beating he received was well-deserved.
(End of Chapter)
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