Harry Potter: The Muggle Crown Prince at Hogwarts

Next, the white-bearded old man explained the Defense Against the Dark Arts class gently and patiently.

——Of course, the talent of the blond crown prince will not wear down his patience.

He quoted from many sources, built the trunk of Defense Against the Dark Arts for Allen, and led Allen to broaden the branches of the tree of knowledge.

Allen had to admit that the old man with the white beard was indeed knowledgeable.

Of all the men he knew, perhaps only Salazar could be compared to him.

After all, Snake Ancestor is a thousand years behind...

The blond crown prince had to admit that in the field of teaching, Dumbledore was better.

but……

Today's Dumbledore seemed to be extraordinarily kind, and he hardly showed any suspicion towards him.

Allen didn't understand, but he was happy to see this situation.

If the old man stood against him, many things would be difficult to advance.

For example, the study of alchemy is extremely urgent at present.

But he has plenty of patience.

Allen showed the patience to deal with a certain dizzy prime minister, calm down and concentrate on listening to the class.

Time passed by the clock every minute and every second.

At the moment when the hour hand pointed to the number eight, the old man took a sip of the sweet black tea slowly and said with emotion,

"Long time no lecture! Alan, you are an excellent student.

Even among geniuses, it is so dazzling. "

Allen smiled and shook his head,

"Although the growth of genius is rapid, it is difficult to match the wisdom given by time.

"Professor, only time bestows eternity, doesn't it?"

The old man seemed to be hesitant, and his blue eyes looked through the half-moon lens, and he paused for a while.

Dumbledore said softly, "Oh, Alan, I have a friend who is very good at alchemy.

"Well, he is very interested in your thoughts and wants to see you."

Allen raised an eyebrow, pretending to be puzzled, "Oh?"

Before Dumbledore could reply, a trembling voice came from upstairs.

"Oh, Albus..."

Allen raised his eyes slightly, and the light reflected a brilliance in the sea blue eyes.

French accent.

Nicole Flamel.

He got up, stood there respectfully, and looked at the thin and pale old man on the stairs.

Thin, very thin.

This was Allen's first impression of the alchemist.

The old man's shoulders were not as broad as the grandfather clock behind him, and his hair and face were too white.

It was hard to tell whether he was paler or the white wall beside him was whiter.

However, this old man was still wearing a loose flaxen robe, his slender wrists were exposed from the cuffs, and there were almost no muscles on them, as if only a layer of bones remained.

If you dissect him, what can be studied?

Can the current biotechnology penetrate the so-called "immortality"?

I hope that Lemay can hold on for a while, at least not until biotechnology advances to that point.

Allen thought inexplicably.

He quickly put away this dangerous idea - at least he needs the alchemy knowledge in the other party's mind now.

Nicole Flamel walked down the stairs tremblingly, almost falling apart at the slightest movement.

Even Dumbledore stood up.

Allen walked over quickly, strode up the stairs, and gently stretched out his hand to support the other party.

"Monsieur Flamel, be careful."

Nicole Flamel laughs, his chest growling overwhelmed, and then coughs again.

Allen's expression was indescribable.

There's worry, there's shock, there's some panic that you don't want to die.

He looked to Dumbledore for help.

The old man blinked slightly, "Don't worry, Alan, Nico's body has always been like this—at least it was when I met him in 1890."

100...

Allen looked at the alchemist silently, and the other party calmed himself down by coughing.

Suddenly understand why Dumbledore has a big heart...