Harry Potter and the Candy Factory

Regaining his senses, Charlie restrained the impolite expression in his eyes, reminiscent of a country bumpkin visiting a grand garden. He turned around, chuckled, and waved his hand gently, saying warmly,

"Actually, I've always wanted to visit Paris. Even if Headmaster Dumbledore hadn't asked me, I would have come eventually once I finished my business… This is just a small favor."

"Oh, right…" Saying this, Charlie seemed to suddenly remember something. He reached into his pocket and slowly took out the Philosopher's Stone, carefully wrapped in parchment, and offered it to Perenelle Flamel.

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"Now, let us return this to its rightful owner."

However, Perenelle did not take the Philosopher's Stone from his hand. Instead, she folded her hands amiably in front of her and smiled, shaking her head slowly. Then, under Charlie's questioning gaze, she turned her head and looked towards the staircase leading to the second floor of the stone building.

"Nicolas is in his study right now… He has been wanting to meet you. If possible, perhaps you should go upstairs and hand the Philosopher's Stone to him personally."

Hearing this, Charlie was first stunned, then the light in his eyes flickered again. He smiled, nodded to Perenelle, put the Philosopher's Stone back into his large pocket, and said cheerfully, "Alright."

… … … … … … … … … … … … … …

Walking up the wooden stairs, which had been there for who knows how long, with patterns that had become faintly blurred, each step landed on the stairs, and the brass candlesticks embedded on the walls on both sides would immediately reveal a layer of fine alchemical symbols on the surface, followed by a soft "poof" sound, lighting up a soft, orange flame.

"—Every seemingly ordinary everyday utensil here is actually made up of alchemical items!!" Charlie exclaimed in his mind.

From the gate when he entered, to the utensils, sofas, and even the long table on the first floor, as well as the lamps that flickered with flames as if guiding him at this moment, everything he saw was an alchemical product.

Although Charlie had made countless guesses in his mind before coming, about what Nicolas Flamel's house would look like, seeing it with his own eyes still made him admire the other party's "wealth and generosity."

You know, although there are many magical道具 shops in the wizarding world, there is actually a fundamental difference between magical items and alchemical items. Whether it is the stability of its structure, or the adaptability and precision far exceeding magical items, it is destined to be precious and rare.

Even the most luxurious residence he had ever seen before—"Malfoy Manor"—only used exquisite ordinary utensils and had never frantically added alchemical items to every corner of the house. But now, in Nicolas Flamel's stone building, his knowledge has been raised to a higher level.

Although that's what he said, thinking about it carefully, it was unexpectedly reasonable. After all, this is the home of the world's most outstanding alchemist. Perhaps things that seem precious in the eyes of ordinary people are just toys that he can casually put together in a few hours!

Thinking of this, Charlie couldn't help but lower his head inexplicably, secretly taking out the alchemical item that the other party had given him from another pocket, and playing with it meaninglessly in his hand.

Did Headmaster Dumbledore tell me how long it took Nicolas Flamel to create it?

Two hours, or three hours… Maybe I should find a chance to ask him later… … … …

Thinking about all sorts of messy things in his mind, by the time he suddenly came back to his senses, he had already stepped onto the second floor of the stone building.

He shook his head, forcing himself to suppress those strange thoughts and the things that appeared in his mind for no reason, lest some small actions of his would offend this legendary figure he was meeting for the first time.

Once everything was ready, he mustered up his courage, thinking about the floor on the second floor, and took the first step… …

"Creak… Creak…"

The dilapidated floor seemed to be a little warped. When Charlie stepped on it, it made a slight groan.

On a green sofa not far away, a thin old man with white hair was wearing glasses, holding a thick book in his arms, facing away from Charlie, concentrating on looking in the direction of the fireplace.

Hearing the sound of the floor behind him didn't make him raise his head. Instead, he said, "Is my chamomile tea ready, dear?"

However, his question was not answered. Charlie pursed his lips, thinking about how to take the lead in speaking when suddenly, Nicolas Flamel, who was originally reading a book with his back to him, seemed to notice something and slowly raised his head, shifting his attention away from the book.

Then, that originally huddled, thin body began to stretch. He closed the thick book and gently placed it on the coffee table next to him. In the next second, the coffee table seemed to have come to life. The four legs, made of some unknown metal, began to soften, like a docile beast, carrying the book and running towards the bookshelf with a sway. Then, under Charlie's gaze, it flexibly used its four legs to place it securely on it. After everything was done, it returned to Nicolas Flamel's side, motionless, and turned back into an ordinary coffee table.

Nicolas Flamel supported himself on the armrest of the sofa with his hand and slowly stood up. He gently moved his footsteps, turning around little by little, gradually revealing a face full of ravines and wrinkles, but still elegant and peaceful.

Those eyes, which were originally deeply sunken, widened slightly at this moment, and a strange light flickered in his eyes, meeting Charlie's indigo blue eyes.

Charlie was a little distracted by the wise gaze, and after a moment of恍惚, he remembered to introduce himself to the person in front of him.

"Um… It's an honor to meet you, Master Nicolas Flamel. My name is… … … …"

However, before he could finish speaking, Nicolas Flamel on the other side had already preemptively said Charlie's name:

"Charlie Black, you are that Albus's student, right?"

Nicolas Flamel smiled, and the wrinkles representing the years seemed a bit deeper with his smile.

Charlie didn't know what to say for a moment, so he had to forcibly stop the words he hadn't finished speaking and nodded a little helplessly.

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Nicolas Flamel's smile became even brighter. This feeling was very familiar, just like the pure, childlike smile that Charlie often saw on Headmaster Dumbledore's face.

"Come on, come and sit down, come and warm yourself by the fire, the fire is burning brightly today."