Chapter 449: Reply Letter and Growth
【Dear Love’s Friends,
I sincerely congratulate you on achieving such remarkable accomplishments at such a young age—Book of Friends, Magic Puppet, Communication Pea, and, of course, my favorite, the Soft-Light Badge.】
【These inventions not only demonstrate your talent and effort, but also show the world your deep passion and unwavering dedication to this path of knowledge. It truly brings me great pleasure.】
【Today, too many young wizards drown in the allure of ancient magic, chasing mythical “relics” from the past, while neglecting the cultivation and application of their own wisdom. Yet you dared to explore new technologies, displaying a unique creativity—something truly rare. It fills me with great expectation for your future.】
【I’m certain you already understand: studying Alchemy is a long and arduous journey, often misunderstood and misused. Many assume we seek the transmutation of metals or immortality—but that is not our true aim.】
【We seek longer lives only to have more time to reach the shores of knowledge. True Alchemy is about discovering a power that can help bring peace to the magical world, uncovering the mysteries of existence, understanding the essence of life, and aiding those in need.】
【When the first wizard ever melted metal in a cauldron, the flame’s glow reflected humanity’s eternal longing for truth and permanence. Thousands of years have passed, yet we still ask: Where lies the boundary between matter and mind? What changes can magic and flame bring to this world?】
【Dear Love’s Wade, this July, when you’re on holiday, would you be willing to visit my estate? We could sit together by the oak table, discussing the mysteries of Alchemy. I’d be honored to listen to your questions, share my experience, and I’m certain your youthful thoughts would surprise even this old scholar.】
【Your devoted,
Nicolas Flamel】
...
Wade had read the letter half a dozen times already. A wave of uncontrollable excitement surged through him, making him clench his fist tightly—almost wishing he could fly straight to Nicolas Flamel’s estate right then.
Even without considering Flamel’s legendary status and mastery in Alchemy, just imagining meeting someone who was 667 years old made his heart race with anticipation. Nicolas Flamel had been alive when the Ming Dynasty hadn’t even been founded in the East—this man was, quite literally, a living history.
Wade paced around his room twice, then sat at his desk and began writing a reply letter with earnest care:
【Dear Love’s Nicolas Flamel,
Receiving your letter filled me with immense honor and excitement… I am deeply eager to visit your estate… Thank you once again for your encouragement and support…】
When he set down his quill, Wade paused to examine what he’d written. The emotion poured onto the page was unmistakable—his handwriting was wild and energetic, almost dancing across the parchment. Too enthusiastic? Too childish?
...Could it seem too eager? Too flattering?
He hesitated, then tore up the first draft and started over—this time, more formal and composed.
【Respected Mr. Flamel,
I am deeply honored by your invitation and filled with anticipation. Thank you for generously offering to share your invaluable wisdom and experience with me. I will carefully arrange my schedule to ensure my timely arrival at your estate. I look forward to your guidance and advice.】
As he waited for the ink to dry, Fiona entered the room carrying a freshly sliced fruit platter. She placed the tray down and, without thinking, popped a piece of apple into her mouth. Seeing Wade writing, she mumbled, “Wade, you haven’t even gone to school yet—already got an assignment?”
“No,” Wade replied, selecting an envelope and carefully writing the address. “I’m replying to a letter from Nicolas Flamel. He invited me to visit his estate during the summer holidays.”
“Nicolas Flamel?” Fiona frowned slightly—she knew the name, but couldn’t place it. She tilted her head and glanced at the two draft letters on the table. Then suddenly reached out and picked up the first one. “This one’s better.”
Wade blinked. “I rewrote it because the first one felt too casual—too loose in tone. A true Alchemist should be steady and disciplined. If I sound like a child jumping around, how can anyone trust me?”
“But you are a child,” Fiona mused, nodding. “Honestly, if it were me, I’d prefer the first letter.”
Wade raised an eyebrow. “Then what if someone received the second one?”
Fiona paused, then countered, “Wouldn’t this Nicolas Flamel be someone extraordinary?”
Wade nodded. “One of the greatest Alchemists in history.”
“Then wouldn’t he be overwhelmed by hundreds of such letters?” Fiona mused. “Probably tired of formalities.”
Wade frowned slightly, chewing on his lip as he weighed the two versions.
“Wade,” Fiona smiled, “the most honest expression of your thoughts and feelings is far more powerful than a long list of polite phrases. And if someone truly likes you, they’ll like you no matter how you write—whether you use fancy words or simple ones.”
Wade sighed. “But first impressions matter.”
“Yet he already sent the invitation,” Fiona laughed. “He’s not judging you based on a letter. He’s heard about your inventions, your journey—he invited you because he sees you as someone worthy of conversation. Isn’t that the real point?”
After Fiona left, Wade stared at both drafts again. The second one felt cold. Too stiff. Too polished.
After a long pause, he reached for the first letter—the one with the wild handwriting—and slid it into the envelope.
...
“Nicolas Flamel… Nicolas Flamel…” Fiona returned to the living room, still murmuring the name, trying to recall where she’d heard it before.
“What’s that?” Ferdinand asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.
“Ferdinand, do you know who Nicolas Flamel is?” Fiona asked. “He sent Wade a letter—now the boy’s been obsessing over it like he’s never been before!”
Ferdinand froze. “…Nicolas Flamel?”
“Yeah!” Fiona rubbed her chin. “I swear I’ve heard that name somewhere…”
Ferdinand said nothing for a moment, then reached into the bookshelf and pulled out a thick volume titled The Secrets and Practices of Alchemy. He flipped to the first page and pointed to the author’s introduction.
“Immortal master of Alchemy… the only known wizard to have successfully created the Philosopher’s Stone… still alive after over six hundred years…”
Fiona gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Her eyes widened with sudden worry. “Oh no… Did I just… give him the wrong advice?”
“What advice?” Ferdinand asked.
Fiona explained everything—the two letters, her thoughts, her reasoning.
Ferdinand considered it, then smiled. “No, you were right. When dealing with elders or mentors, sincerity is the foundation. Wade’s so focused on making a good impression, he’s lost sight of what really matters.”
“Phew,” Fiona exhaled, patting her chest. “I was terrified I’d ruined his chance.”
“Not at all,” Ferdinand said gently. “Dear, you’re so clever. Your instinct led you straight to the best choice.”
Fiona blushed, leaned in, and kissed his cheek. “And marrying you? That was my best choice too, Ferdinand.”
...
After finishing his reply to Nicolas Flamel, Wade glanced at the time. It was still early. He picked up his quill again and began writing letters to each of those who had helped rescue him.
Though he already had contact through their Book of Friends, and some even owned Communication Peas, nothing could replace the sincerity of a handwritten letter—nothing could carry the same weight of respect and gratitude.
Halfway through, Ferdinand entered the study, holding a glass of milk. He didn’t interrupt Wade, simply stood silently behind him, watching as the boy wrote with quiet focus. There were no grand flourishes—just honest, heartfelt words.
Ferdinand smiled.
But as he quietly stepped out into the corridor, he let out a soft sigh.
“Is something troubling you, Mr. Gray?” Dobby stood in the hallway, looking up with wide, concerned eyes. “Can Dobby help with anything?”
Ferdinand shook his head, chuckling bitterly. “Dobby… do parents always feel this strange?”
“When they were little, we feared they couldn’t walk. Once they could run and jump, we worried they’d run too far and disappear. We fear they’ll make mistakes… yet when they learn too fast, too well, we feel a kind of emptiness.”
Dobby stared at him, his head tilting slightly—his little brow furrowed, as if a question mark hovered above him.
Ferdinand laughed quietly, took Dobby’s hand, and led him downstairs. “Dobby, have you learned to read and write?”
“A little,” Dobby said shyly. “A little sprite taught me when I was in the Malfoy home… but I don’t know much. Sorry.”
For no reason he could explain, Dobby suddenly looked down, ashamed.
“No need to apologize,” Ferdinand said gently. “I’ll teach you from the beginning—starting with letters, then words, then sentences. Reading books and writing… these are windows to the world. They’re powerful tools. You must learn them well.”
“Yes, sir!” Dobby’s eyes sparkled with excitement and gratitude. “Dobby won’t let Mr. Gray down!”
...
The holiday flew by. On Sunday evening, Remus Lupin came to pick up Wade for school. His trunk was already packed and stowed in the closet space.
Fiona adjusted his collar with a mother’s tenderness. “Take care of yourself. Write often… don’t make me worry.”
“I understand,” Wade whispered.
“Don’t go running off campus again like before,” Ferdinand added seriously. “Just because you can turn into a falcon doesn’t mean you should. The magical world isn’t safe right now.”
“I know,” Wade said. “I’ll be fine.” He stepped forward and hugged his parents. “Goodbye, Mom, Dad. I’ll miss you.”
Fiona fought back tears, smiling and nodding. “I’ll miss you too.”
“Dobby,” Wade crouched down to the house’s newest member. “Take care of my parents for me.”
“Yes!” Dobby stood tall, chest puffed out. “Leave it to Dobby! You can rest easy, Mr. Wade!”
“Alright,” Remus said, holding out his arm. “Hold on.”
Wade grasped his arm, and with a soft pop, they vanished.
A brief dizziness passed, and Wade found himself standing in Hogsmeade. Snow piled thickly on the rooftops, blanketing the village in a soft white blanket. Some shop entrances glowed with enchanted candle holders, their colorful magical flames painting the snow in warm hues.
“I can Apparate too, Remus,” Wade said after a moment. “I don’t see why I should hide it.”
Remus blinked in surprise. “You taught yourself?”
“Of course not,” Wade replied. “Professor Dumbledore taught me last term.”
“Good,” Remus exhaled in relief. “You can use it, but never in public. Too many eyes are watching. That spell can be a lifesaver when it counts.”
“I understand,” Wade nodded. He paused, then asked, “How’s Mabel doing?”
“Very well,” Remus smiled. “Quiet, but easy to get along with. Just loves helping with chores—always rushing to do things first. And she’s already learned three simple spells.”
“Really?” Wade was impressed. “Even I took a few weeks to master one spell at first.”
He remembered how even basic charms like the Hovering Charm had taken the first-years weeks to perfect—so much so they’d reviewed it before the Christmas break.
Wade decided to visit Mabel first before heading to school. Together, they walked toward Remus’s house. The surroundings grew quieter, sparser. Only a few lights remained—Remus’s and Sirius Black’s.
When they arrived, Wade was surprised to see Machionni already sitting in the living room. Mabel had retreated upstairs, too shy to face strangers. Sirius Black stood with a dark expression, serving their guest.
“Machionni?” Wade said, startled. Then it clicked. “You’re here about the Streaming Mirror, aren’t you?”
He’d already explained it in a letter—but seeing him now, he felt a pang of guilt. “Sorry I caused you so much trouble.”
“Oh, as long as it didn’t disrupt the broadcast of Sweet Dreams at Night, it’s fine,” Machionni shrugged with a grin. “I just wanted to check on you—make sure my genius Alchemist is still alive and kicking.”
“Wait,” Wade said, frowning. “You’re not here to fix the signal hijacking?”
“Fix it?” Machionni poured himself a glass of honeywine, sipping it casually. “Why would I? If I fix it, next time the Wizard Purity Party might target me—or worse, they’ll use your design to build their own Streaming Mirror and steal half my market.”
He raised his glass, eyes twinkling. “This way, I make my money, they build their reputation. We stay out of each other’s way. Everyone wins.”
Sirius raised an eyebrow. “You’re not worried the Ministry will come after you?”
“Oh, they already did,” Machionni said, leaning back against the cabinet. “But I can’t fix it. What then? I’ll just ask the Ministry to send someone who can. I’ll cooperate fully. If they can’t solve it… well, then it’s not my problem. It’s theirs.”
He finished his drink with a chuckle.
Wade couldn’t help but laugh.
(End of Chapter)
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