• Prev Chapter
  • Background
    Font family
    Font size
    Line hieght
    Full frame
    No line breaks
  • Next Chapter

Thinking Room.

Nicolas Flamel looked around, he surveyed the furnishings of the room with interest, and his whole body looked hundreds of years younger.

“You still have such magic? What a pleasant surprise to me.” He said with a smile, “I can’t use my preparations now.”

Felix looked as if he was greeting an evil guest with a stern face as he stood in front of a dark green curtain that rolled up high to reveal a tall door behind it.

Felix gazed at the door, which opened automatically, the interior shadowy, completely unclear what lay within. Behind the door is his inner world, hiding all the deepest secrets and memories.

The two stepped inside and stood in a long corridor, flanked by tall bookshelves on either side. On the shelves, there is every item – books, handwritten notes, memory balls, and bits and pieces of random objects – representing the truest version of himself.

The only light visible is that from the thinking room – Felix and Nicolas Flamel’s faces are hidden in the darkness – against the light. Then the figure belonging to Felix waved his arm and the windswept up the corridor, the bookshelves twisting and turning into massive, thick clouds that overlapped and took over the original place.

The sky seemed to be pulled down to their feet, with thick clouds falling low – they are as if they were in a sea of clouds, flanked by dark golden clouds that stretched and layered forward from where the two were standing, and disappearing into the unknown end.

“Please come in.” Felix said briefly and courteously.

“Felix …” Nicolas Flamel shook his head, he felt guilty, there’s something he didn’t reveal to anyone, not even Dumbledore – he saw half a prophecy that the world is about to face another change, more impactful than anything in the past.

But unfortunately, he could not see the end, could not see the way forward, and could only hope for those who came after.

Dark golden clouds tangled and swirled, a picture and the sound of talking appeared.

Floating clouds converge, a man with a little touch of elegance, raised the palm-sized piece of paper in his hand and said with conviction, “Felix, I’ll keep an eye on it …”

Nicolas Flamel walked quickly through this section, stopped in front of constantly churning dark golden clouds, and carefully examined it. Felix is the only one in the picture, and he is sitting quietly in his office, looking through a stack of parchment, the pictures on the paper caused him to frown for a moment.

” This is …?”

“The path that Salazar Slytherin gave up on, I picked it up to look at it.”

Without any comment, Nicolas Flamel nodded and continued on his way, not interested in the small details, but focusing on the churning clouds that could tug your emotions.

He walked the not-so-short path, his clothes rolled up with a trace of clouds, making the originally gathered images to disperse again, “All I can tell you is that the person’s code name is Padfoot …”

Nicolas stopped at a place that kept surging, and he asked curiously, “This is the Three Broomsticks bar?” He looked at the people in the picture, Felix sitting with a hawk-nosed middle-aged man who looked bored, pouring himself a glass of alcohol with a numb expression.

“Severus, we should both move forward.” Felix in the picture advised.

“Can you forget the past?” The middle-aged man said, “Can you forget Chesterton Avery? What about Carlo, Nott, Parkinson, Selwyn … and the Shafiqs?”

Felix stopped talking as he clinked glasses with the middle-aged man. As he took the middle-aged man back to Hogwarts, Felix stared at the man talking drunk on the bed and whispered, “That’s why I thank you, Professor.”

Nicolas Flamel asked, “Who is this?”

“My Head of the House and Professor during my school days.”

“He helped you?”

“That’s right.”

“Seems like a warm-hearted man.”

“… probably doesn’t count like that.”

Nicolas said with understanding, “I’m the one who’s narrow-minded, people are complicated.”

They continued on, stopping along the way, with Nicolas Flamel stopping briefly on Felix chasing Sirius and the Patronus expelling the dementors and watching Felix’s speech delivered at the Ministry of Magic in its entirety as a whole.

“What do you think about the Statute of Secrecy?” The old man asked.

“I take a pessimistic view.”

“Will you push for the abolishment of the Statute of Secrecy?”

“It’s a lot of work and won’t last many years without me doing something.”

Nicolas said with a sigh, “I think the same as you, the wizarding world has been closed for too long, and the outside world is changing rapidly …”

He changed the subject and said cheerfully, “Don’t look at me as old-fashioned, one of my safe houses is just placed in the Muggle community in a grand manner, without using any magic – with all kinds of modern appliances that would malfunction, refrigerators, air conditioners, ovens… …and home game consoles, you know this one, Perenelle loves it … I also have an identity, an expert in occult studies!”

In front of another cloud mass, Nicolas looked wistfully at Newt Scamander, and his words became more abundant: “When I first met Newt, he behaved very wooden and uncommunicative, and probably hasn’t changed now …” he said softly. “Years have passed in a flash.”

Then he looked at the cloud mass, In which Felix asked nonchalantly: “What family are you from?”

The young man at the opposite end stammered, “Av–Avery.”

Nicolas Flamel asked curiously, “Is this the Avery that the professor just mentioned?” Seeing Felix nod, he couldn’t resist asking, “What did he do?”

Felix said with a profound expression, “You’ll see, isn’t that what you came for.”

Not far from here, Nicolas Flamel listened to what Felix said in the seventh-grade classroom, he smacked his lips: “the seeds of miracles …” he pondered for a long time.

They continued on their way and heard the memory of Felix saying to a freckled boy, “This is the Nicolas Flamel kind of rat,” Nicolas couldn’t help but laugh, “Fantastic analogy.”

Felix felt a little embarrassed, he said this when he did not expect to be caught by the subject.

Nicolas said thoughtfully, “So, the infamous Sirius Black is innocent, and Peter Pettigrew was the traitor? The only mystery is surrounding the Animagus … Fidelius charm – but the keeper isn’t removable, so maybe the Potters have been lying to everyone from the start.”

Felix said calmly, “You should have thought of that and skipped some key elements.”

Nicolas smiled and said, “I couldn’t have stuck my nose in your face and watch you in every detail. As unconvincing as it is, I’m just trying to salvage a part of your image from your mind.”

“Yeah.” Felix muttered.

In another cluster of clouds, Nicolas asked him, “Who is this little girl?”

“Hermione Granger, my assistant in the Ancient Runes class.” Felix explained.

“How sweet and understanding.” Nicolas said admiringly as he watched Hermione place a pot of greenery on a square table stacked with books, giving the dimly lit left half of the space an extra touch of life.

“What happened earlier, though? You look like you took some blow … Oh, I see, accidental magic riot, this method … is a little underdone, but …”

Nicolas Flamel stopped talking as he looked at the image in the dark gold cloud, with the Longbottoms holding Neville on one side and a disbelieving Felix on the other.

Next is a long road, Nicolas said “interesting” about the golden runic sphere, and did not stop until he saw what happened at the summer muggle meeting.

“Finite spell, I have also used this magic … sorry, people who are old are prone to fall into meaningless memories.” Nicolas said emotionally, “What do you think of the Revolutionary Society as an organization?”

“Young, with potential, represents the future.”

“Yes, young with potential, represents the future.” Nicolas murmured.

Nicolas Flamel watched with great interest the questions Felix had asked during the open class at the Paris University – when Felix had used hypotheticals to outline the current state of the wizarding world and pressed the professor for his opinion.

The old man chuckled and said, “You’ve got a lot of nerve, no wonder that Auror is out to get you.”

Felix explained, “Happened to catch up, and I did want to know what a professor of philosophy thought about the issue.”

“With the help of other people’s wisdom?” The old man said, “The wise thing to do.”

In the chamber of secrets afterward, Nicolas couldn’t help but complain about Dumbledore: “There are some things he does that I don’t really agree with, but … I’m not him and don’t know on what basis he made that decision.”

Nicolas Flamel kept moving forward and in an office, he saw Dumbledore with his arms crossed with a serious face asking, “Why are you obsessed with coming to Hogwarts to teach?”

Nicolas asked, “Is this your interview?”

“Obviously, I was hired.”

Nicolas nodded as the cloud in front of him had silently turned navy blue, a memory from the three years after Felix’s graduation, and the old man smiled and said, “Same colour as my eyes.” Here he sees a more real side of Felix like a real ordinary person working and living in a technology company, “It’s just so unexpected to me.” Nicolas remarked.

The two years before this was Felix’s experience of travelling the world, Nicolas Flamel blinked and watched Felix travel through the black markets of different countries, picking and exchanging all kinds of magical items and handwritten notes, dealing mostly with dark wizards who roamed the gray areas, robbing, fighting, fighting back, setting traps …

“Does blue mean sadness?” Nicolas asked as he stared at the blue, glowing dots of cloud.

“No, I enjoyed the experience,” Felix said.

“Uh … okay.”

The next clouds on either side of the road turned dark gold once again, and he saw a younger, school-going Felix, a sixth or seventh year who received awe everywhere he went, and the crowd automatically moved out of the way as Felix smiled and nodded at them.

“Because the Shafiqs left England? No worries?” The old man thought to himself.

But the next moment, Nicolas Flamel dismissed this suspicion, he saw that at the end of the fifth year, Felix visited some pure-blood families one by one.

Nicolas Flamel stared at a set of dark golden clouds that kept churning, and he guessed that if the colour of the clouds represented emotions, Felix at that time must have been delighted, with vengeful delight-

It is a richly decorated room, bright green and silver striped single sofa, sitting on it, is a young man with black hair and blue eyes.

The fireplace decorated with gold patterns made a soft sound, and a middle-aged male wizard came out of it. He saw Felix, and his eyes showed surprise and panic.

“Felix Hap … you, what are you doing here!” He roared angrily, “Who let you in, you are not welcome here!”

The young man said gently, “I felt the need to pay a visit, with regard to the disagreement between us.”

The male wizard turned furious, “What kind of trick are you pulling? Where is Dumbledore, he wants to strike the purebloods?”

But immediately after, his body stiffened, like a stone statue, and his eyes kept moving down until finally, he found himself on his knees.

All he could see were the shoes of the young man.

“A very hidden spell, isn’t it? I found it from the forbidden book section … I came over today to formally introduce myself, although I had already dealt with it last summer, what was that Parkinson’s name again? Furthermore, I can’t quite remember, his face swollen into a pumpkin, well, a curse rebound.”

“… James!” The man with the last name Parkinson yelled low.

A house-elf appeared out of nowhere, and the next second a red light flashed, and the elf fell unconscious to the ground.

Felix stood up and passed by the male wizard, as he’s looking at the portrait hanging on the wall, “I purposely did my homework before I came, your family also produced a Minister of Magic, Perseus Parkinson, during the governing period he attempted to pass the bill ‘illegal to marry a Muggle’, the result was unsuccessful. ”

“A bit of a shame, isn’t it? Such ideas can only be kept in the family and cannot be accepted by the public.” His wand nudged the male wizard’s head.

The face of the kneeling Head Parkinson turned purple, going from hatred to resignation, to disillusionment and fear in two minutes.

“What do you need me to do, Mr. Hap?”

“Be a good boy and stop jumping around, I promised Headmaster Dumbledore I wouldn’t pursue this.”

Nicolas Flamel said softly, “I knew the Parkinson family had been pretty subdued over the years; they used to be pretty radical.” He asked curiously, “All the families that have suddenly faded in recent years are related to you?”

“Well, then I need to count them carefully.” Felix said uncertainly.

As they continued on their way, a huge cloud kept churning, bringing out wisps of hazy clouds, and the image gradually became clear, the memory of Felix initiating a duel at the beginning of the fifth year –

Hogwarts great hall in a corner, after Dumbledore’s welcome speech, young Felix unhurriedly put on the gloves, the seats on either side of him were empty, which made it easy for him to stand up and walk calmly to a blond boy.

Felix slowly removed his gloves while saying slowly, ” Shafiq, one of the Sacred 28 pureblood families? Noble, glorious … or maybe just a piece of scum that only hides in shady corners and sneaks around, I guess, with dirty blood flowing in every inch of your veins, I wonder if it’s true …” He threw the gloves at the blond boy’s face.

The blond boy’s body had long been stiff and sweaty, and the white glove stuck in his neck and fell to the ground, stained with dust, because his body kept shaking.

He stammered, “Felix …”

“Be nice, I’ve told you before, don’t let me down.” Felix’s eyes were dead on him, and he said mockingly, “You’re Shafiq.”

“I, I give up … I-” The blond Shafiq fell out of his seat, limp.

“Felix Hap!” Snape strides over from the professor’s chair as he bellowed, “What are you trying to do?”

“Professor,” Felix yawned slightly, “as you can see, I want to see if the blood of this family is red or black.”

Snape’s hand trembled with anger as he whispered, “Stop your boring revenge game, Dumbledore has stepped in, where you can’t see! Believe me, he will make the Shafiqs pay.”

“I want more,” Felix said, with a strange light in his eyes: “Why to keep this rotten family in the way?”

“Felix Hap,” Snape suppressed the panic in his heart as he saw a glimpse of another man in the eyes of his young student, “I forbid you to do so.”

Felix played with his wand and did not speak.

Dumbledore walked over, and he said in a quiet voice, “Minerva, take Shafiq away, the others–” he raised his voice, “led by the Head of Grade, return to the common room.”

On the memory path, Felix inquired, “Do you have any insight, Nicolas? Think I’m going too far?”

Nicolas didn’t respond to the unpleasant subject and continued on his way. He saw the end of the fourth year when Felix walked out the door of the school and fought through all sorts of bad curses to knock those who attacked him to the ground.

Even when one of them had his head turned twice as big as it was, it was hard to feel sympathy – because that curse originated from him.

The memories of the entire fourth year are a miserable white, unbearably monotonous, everywhere Felix can be seen practicing his spell in various unoccupied corners, and a thousand images together make up the entire memory of the year.

In a shadowy cave in the Forbidden Forest, a dazzling green light illuminates the cramped, damp space, revealing a taut visage.

“Avada Kedavra …”

“Yeah, it’s supposed to work pretty well, and it took me quite a bit of effort to find it.” Felix said in a relaxed tone.

Nicolas shook his head, disapproving of his words, “Unforgivable curse will corrupt the mind, even Auror has to receive regular psychological counselling, let alone you were just a child.”

“The situation was special, I didn’t think that much about it, and you missed it, a ghost friend of mine stopped me.”

” Is that lady, I remember you called her Helena?”

“The other one, the one covered in silvery-white blood.”

Nicolas Flamel insisted, “Either way, you shouldn’t be learning dark magic, especially at such a young age …”

“Oh, thanks for caring.”

The old man said with a stern face, “I can tell that’s a fake word.”

Nicolas Flamel is moody, standing in front of a huge black cloud that emits a deep black mist like a huge beast with its teeth and claws, and he seems to hear the beast roaring, but everything is his illusion, it is the picture of the beginning of the fourth grade –

Dozens of owls hovered over the long, empty great hall room table, with only young Felix sitting with his back turned to them, as the owls dropped a red letter, which twisted and opened its mouth wide, saying vicious words.

“Filthy mudblood! Shame on Slytherin, don’t let me see you, or I’ll crush your bones one by one …”

“Have you ever heard of the Unforgivable Curse? Cruciatus Curse!” A piercing laugh followed.

“… curse your name, curse your blood!”

The voices of dozens of Howlers echoed through the great hall, intertwining together, making it difficult to hear the words, and only nasty words could be heard among the words that were spoken.

The young wizards cowered and hid, the Slytherin students looked on coldly, and the other three houses whispered noisily.

“Bang!”

All the letters were blown into ashes, Felix stood up with an expressionless face, and the crowd automatically parted him a way.

“Oh, my God!” Professor McGonagall said in a panic as she hurried over to the Slytherin table, which had become a mess. She yelled angrily, “Evil, vile, gutter-hiding people! Totally underhanded … and shameless!”

“Are you all right, Hap?” She said cautiously, her hand on Felix’s shoulder, which bounced away as if it had been electrocuted.

“I’m fine, Professor.” The young Felix said calmly, “Better than ever.”

On the path, Nicolas Flamel frowned deeply and opened his mouth several times to say something, but he said nothing. What followed were long gray clouds, a low mass of dark clouds swirling and swimming, as if they had entered a deep-sea, with black reefs attached to a whirlpool that swirled up a large area of seawater and water mist.

Some words were like worms that kept burrowing into Nicolas Flamel’s ears.

“You want to make a move? I just teach you to be a man, scum is scum everywhere, mudblood is mudblood, did I say wrong? Come and listen, everyone, which of my words are wrong …”

“You joined in a g

New novel chapters are published on fr(e)ewebnov(e)l.com

Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter