Hogwarts' Golden Glory

"Just logical reasoning."

Kane's gaze swept over several seemingly random piles of stones on the hillside.

These are all meticulously arranged protective formations.

"The Dark Lord's Horcruxes must be destroyed, and you will not stand idly by."

The old headmaster stroked his beard, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes: "That's true. But today..."

"But today you brought me to see Lemaître."

Kane picked up the conversation, his grey-blue eyes looking directly at Dumbledore.

"This suggests that you consider knowledge of alchemy more important than tracking down Horcruxes—or rather, that it helps in destroying them."

The wind in the mountains suddenly stopped.

Dumbledore stared intently at the boy before him, as if trying to see into his very soul.

"sometimes,"

The old headmaster said softly, "I really don't know whether to be pleased or worried by your keen insight."

Kane's lips curled into a slight smile: "You should be worried, Headmaster. After all..."

He stepped forward. "After all, I never do anything that doesn't benefit me. I'll help you fight the Dark Lord, and what will you give me in return?"

Dumbledore did not answer immediately.

He led Kane to the other side of the hillside, where it appeared to be empty.

But when the old headmaster's wand traces a specific path.

Fine golden patterns appeared in the air—magic circles even older than Hogwarts' protective charms.

"Knowledge," Dumbledore finally spoke, his voice deep and firm.

"Not power, not immortality, but the wisdom to change the world. Is that enough?"

That's enough for now.

Dumbledore walked over to a group of giant rocks.

"What did you see?" Dumbledore suddenly asked.

Kane's gaze swept over the boulder: "Ordinary Devonshire granite, cast with a confusion charm around the twelfth century, and has at least seven layers of protective magic on it—"

He paused for a moment, "—There is also a blood curse, which can only be triggered by people of a specific bloodline."

A hint of approval flashed in Dumbledore's eyes.

He stretched out his withered fingers and gently pressed them on a groove on the surface of the boulder.

The runes on the stone suddenly lit up, and the moss disappeared.

The boulder moved silently upwards, and a stone house rose from the ground.

Kane gazed at the ancient stone house that was gradually coming into view.

It looks like it grew directly from the mountain, with glowing vines climbing all over the walls.

The door knocker is shaped like an ouroboros, with two rubies set in the eyes.

Then, under Kane's watchful eye, the door opened.

Warm orange light poured out from inside the door.

Accompanied by the scent of ink from books and the bitter aroma of some ancient potion.

An old, weak voice came from inside:

"Albus, you've finally brought him."

Kane stepped across the threshold, his grey-blue eyes narrowing slightly.

Adapting to the sudden light.

Beside the alchemical furnace in the center of the room, Nicolas Flamel was smiling at him.

"Kane Malfoy," Lemaître's voice was hoarse but powerful, "Albus told me that you have an extraordinary interest in alchemy."

Kane nodded slightly.

His gaze swept over the scattered utensils on the workbench—a silver mortar containing some kind of purple powder that seemed to flow on its own.

The quill pen automatically recorded data on the parchment.

The most eye-catching item is a crystal bottle suspended above the alchemy furnace, containing a drop of a substance that resembles liquid gold.

"It's not an interest," Kane corrected, "it's research."

LeMay smiled, her thin fingers tapping lightly on the table: "Then tell me, young man—"

He pointed to the drop of golden liquid. "What is this?"

A brief silence fell over the room.

Dumbledore stepped aside, a look of keen interest in his eyes, as if he wanted to see how Kane would respond.

Kane did not answer immediately.

He stepped forward slowly, his gray-blue eyes fixed on the drop of substance.

It is not still, but slowly swirling in the bottle, occasionally bursting into tiny sparks, as if it has a life of its own.

"This is not ordinary magical metal."

Kane observed, "It resists the constraints of the container, indicating that it has extremely high activity."

He paused for a moment, "But what's most interesting is its color—not the 'sun gold' described in alchemy textbooks, that kind of gold is more orange-red, but this drop..."

He looked up at Le Maire: "It's a product of life alchemy, isn't it?"

Lemaître raised his eyebrows slightly: "Go on."

The seventh chapter of the Jade Record states, "The upper part is like the lower part, and the lower part is like the upper part."

Kane's voice was steady and resolute.

"True alchemy is not about turning lead into gold, but about the transformation and sublimation of energy. This drop of liquid—"

He pointed to the crystal bottle, "It is the embodiment of the power of the Philosopher's Stone, but it is not used to make gold; rather, it is a medium for understanding the essence of life."

Lemaître's eyes lit up.

He slowly stood up and clapped his withered hands twice: "Very good, very good."

He turned to Dumbledore. "Albus, the boy is even more perceptive than you say."

Dumbledore smiled: "I never underestimate the Malfoy family's talents."

"For six hundred years," Lemaître's voice was hoarse and low.

"I have seen countless so-called genius wizards who pursue the trick of turning stones into gold and yearn for the secret of immortality, but have never truly understood the essence of alchemy."

He walked towards Kane and gently tapped Kane's chest with his withered fingers.

"But you are different." A rare look of approval flashed in Lemaître's eyes.

"You've seen through the surface and gotten to the heart of the matter—alchemy is not about creating gold, but about understanding life."

The air in the room seemed to freeze.

The flames of the alchemy furnace burned silently, casting a silvery-blue light on the faces of the three people.

Dumbledore stood to the side, a faint smile playing on his lips, as if he had long anticipated this moment.

Lemaître turned around and took a heavy book from the oak bookshelf behind him.

The book cover is made of dark brown dragon skin, with mithril runes inlaid along the edges, giving it an ancient and mysterious appearance.

He gently stroked the cover, as if he were caressing an old friend.

"This is my alchemical notebook," Lemaître said. "Six hundred years of insights, from the most basic transformation of matter to the most complex reconstruction of life, are all here."

He handed the book to Kane.

"I hope that before I leave this world, I can entrust it to someone who truly understands its value."

Kane did not take it immediately.

His gaze shifted from the book to Lemaître's face, a rare flicker of emotion flashing in his grey-blue pupils.

"You want to take me as your student?"

Lemaître laughed, but his laugh was somewhat terrifying: "No, Mr. Kane Malfoy, I am not taking on students."

He paused, then said, "More serious than a student, I'm looking for a successor."

A brief silence fell over the room.

Kane's fingertips lightly touched the book.

I felt the ancient magic flowing through the pages of the book.

It is the culmination of countless wisdoms, the truth that alchemists pursue throughout their lives.