Chapter 255: Milk and Sugar
Chapter 255: Milk and Sugar
The snow had ceased overnight, and the landscape was blanketed in pristine white, the sun glinting off the sparkling snow. House-elves were busy at work, magically clearing a path through the snow.
Inside the villa, Albert donned a formal wizard's robe and sat casually in an armchair in the library, flipping through a book as he awaited the arrival of the other witches and wizards. It would be a lie to say he wasn't curious about the alchemy gathering.
Albert's patience was not tested for long. Soon, a very old wizard, aided by a house-elf, made his way slowly toward the villa's foyer.
"...Those fellows these days have no sense of time," Albert faintly heard the old wizard grumble.
"No, old friend, I'd wager your pocket watch is running a few minutes ahead of everyone else's," said a slightly younger wizard, glancing at his own timepiece and greeting the other with a smile. "We're right on time."
Before long, one after another, as if they had planned it, witches and wizards began to appear outside the villa and were guided into the foyer by the house-elves.
Albert closed his book, straightened his attire, and made his way toward the foyer.
As he reached the entrance to the foyer, the sound of lively conversation already filled Albert's ears.
"There are a lot fewer familiar faces this time."
"I wonder why Nicolas Flamel isn't here. I recall he was living in Devon."
"Speaking of Flamel, I remember it was Dumbledore who invited him to the last gathering."
"Don't count on it. Flamel hasn't attended these gatherings in years. I doubt he's interested anymore."
"Why isn't Dumbledore here this year?"
"Who knows?"
"I wrote to Dumbledore, and he said he had other matters to attend to this year."
The witches and wizards chatted away, not bothering to lower their voices, filling the foyer with a cacophony of voices. Albert lingered by the wall, listening to their conversation.
"What about Gerber Smith? He's not here either," a loud-mouthed wizard inquired.
"He's probably still on his way," someone replied.
"At this rate, we might not even have five people for the next gathering," a low-voiced wizard grumbled.
"It's not that bad," another wizard said.
"We haven't had any new blood in a long while."
"These days, it's rare to find a wizard well-versed in proper alchemy."
"Perhaps Dumbledore should start offering alchemy classes at Hogwarts?"
"You want to teach?"
"No one here is going to teach. We're all semi-retired. Didn't Bard say he invited a newcomer this time? Has anyone seen him?" A middle-aged wizard quickly changed the subject, having endured similar conversations at the last gathering. If he didn't steer the topic elsewhere, he'd be stuck listening to the elderly witches and wizards grumble for hours.
"No, I haven't met him. Bard said he'd give us an unexpected surprise," replied a thin, elderly wizard named Yellon Bard, who wore a monocle and gloves. He was a metalsmith by trade.
"Well, the last time, we had Gerber Smith's apprentice, but I heard he's not coming this year either. If this keeps up, count me out for the next gathering. It's just not the same without the usual crowd," grumbled a bald, short, and elderly wizard who was well into his seventies. He was the famous Gobelot, a master potioneer skilled in creating antidotes and using alchemy to extract potion ingredients. Anyone proficient in potions would surely know of Gobelot, or at least of Gobelot's Third Law.
"Come now, old friend, let's just enjoy each other's company while we can. You never know when it'll be our time," said another optimistic elderly wizard.
"Oh, spare me, Tofudi. You're older than most of us here," someone muttered.
"Count me out for the next one, too. Traveling here is exhausting at my age. My bones are creaking just sitting here," complained yet another elderly wizard.
"You're not that much older than me. And you're not Flamel, are you? Don't tell me you have osteoporosis at your age," Tofudi countered.
"Just remember to drink your milk every day," Tofudi advised.
"Speaking of which, didn't you say you wouldn't be attending these gatherings anymore?"
"Bard told me there would be a newcomer this year, a genius, apparently. I had to see for myself," Professor Tofudi explained. He wasn't particularly skilled in alchemy, but he was intrigued by the genius Bard had mentioned. And their definition of "unskilled" was relative, as they were comparing themselves to the masters in the room.
Soon, house-elves appeared in the foyer, offering beverages to the guests.
"Tolss, if you don't like it, you can add some sugar to your milk," Professor Tofudi suggested with a smile.
"Only Dumbledore would do that. At my age, I can't be indulging in sugary treats," grumbled a wizard named Tolss.
"Dumbledore never considers himself old."
The elderly witches and wizards unabashedly teased those who weren't present, like Dumbledore and Flamel. They had known each other for many years and didn't mind such banter.
Perhaps due to their advanced age, their hearing wasn't what it used to be, so they tended to speak loudly.
The renowned Nicolas Flamel was jokingly accused of having osteoporosis, and Dumbledore's sweet tooth was brought up, along with his apparent immunity to diabetes.
Albert's face twitched as he listened to their conversation from outside the foyer. He didn't know how to react to what he was hearing.
"Why don't you come in?" Professor Broad asked with a smile.
"I'm just listening to their conversation. It's quite interesting," Albert replied offhandedly. He knew that if he went in, he'd become the center of attention and miss out on these entertaining exchanges.
Only nine people had shown up, most of them elderly witches and wizards, with just a few middle-aged men among them. As Albert entered the foyer, he predictably became the focal point, and the witches and wizards turned to look at him.
"Albert, take a seat over here!" Professor Broad gestured to the seat next to him.
"Bard, is this the Mr. Anderson you mentioned?" Everyone eyed Albert curiously. Fortunately, he remained calm, nodding to Professor Broad and then to the curious onlookers. He then greeted the elderly witches and wizards with a nod.
Turning to the two elderly men who had been speaking in French, Albert said, "I admit I am young, but knowledge knows no age, isn't that right?"
The two men looked at each other, not embarrassed to be caught speaking privately but rather surprised that Albert could speak French fluently.
"French?"
"British."
This time, Albert replied in English.
"Indeed, a genius," the old wizard said to Professor Broad. "At the very least, when it comes to languages."
(End of Chapter)
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