I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 140 Albus, that child, his time is running out.

“Of course, I like little wizards,” Nick said happily. “I’ve always wanted to go back to Bulbuston to continue being a professor, but they wouldn’t allow it. They said they were afraid the little wizards would offend me. Honestly, how old am I to care about those empty titles?”

"Ha—" Listening to Nick's rambling, Owen's expression twitched unnaturally.

Is it possible, I mean, that what they mean by collision is physical?

"Children are always unruly," Dumbledore nodded. "Especially some fourteen-year-olds, they're full of energy and sure to get into all sorts of trouble."

The old principal was clearly hinting at something!

Irving, standing nearby, was indignant. "You, you, you—how dare you slander someone's innocence with nothing but empty words!"

"Having lots of energy is a good thing." Nick pointed enthusiastically to the sparkling water on the table. "A young, Muggle-born wizard recommended it to me. Since I destroyed the Philosopher's Stone, I've often felt low on energy. Maybe being with young wizards makes me feel younger, haha."

Nick's hearty laughter proved that this old man, who has lived for six hundred years, still has a youthful mindset.

But what he said...

Owen's lips twitched slightly. Did he really think I was some kind of Englishman? Perrier (sparkling water) has been around for almost a hundred years. The little wizard you're talking about is probably older than Dumbledore.

There's also a magic stone.

Ok?

"You destroyed the Philosopher's Stone?" He looked at Nicolas Flamel in great surprise. That was the ultimate treasure of wizards! You were willing to give it up?

"Yes," Nick said calmly.

Headmaster Dumbledore, standing nearby, said to Owen in a weathered yet warm tone, "For a man of sound mind, death is but another great adventure."

"No. I didn't mean to live forever." Owen glanced at Dumbledore, who was constantly lecturing him. If he kept lecturing him like this, he would really become a white wizard!

Sigh! For some reason, I feel like the dog has gotten a lot of my conscience back now.

I'm even a little uneasy about killing a dark wizard! (laughs)

"Only fools would dream of immortality, like the brain-dead Voldemort."

"The most important thing about life is its brevity. Pursuing noble things in the limited time makes life as brilliant as fireworks. Infinite life will only deprive life of its value, because without eternity, everything would be meaningless."

"I just think it's a shame," Irving sighed.

"That's a Philosopher's Stone! What a wonderful energy source! Its immense magical power is like a vast ocean, perfect for fuel. If I put it on a starship, I can ride it to the Centaur star system and annihilate the Trisolarans."

He shook his head, looking distressed. "What a pity, what a real pity."

To be honest, Irving really doesn't care about immortality. As someone who has lived three lives, he has a completely disdainful attitude towards death.

I've already died twice, why should I be afraid of you a third time?

Owen was fascinated by the other uses of the Philosopher's Stone: its immense magical power and incredible ability to replace metals.

Its value lies not in making elixirs of immortality.

It should have a much greater purpose.

For example—making outstanding contributions to the liberation of all wizards?

------

Irving's words seemed to have a magical power, causing the two elderly people of different ages to look at him with surprise.

Nick, in particular, looked both weary and shocked, astonished that a thirteen-year-old could possess such a temperament.

Regarding death.

He couldn't face it until a few years ago.

The longer he lived, the more fearful and cowardly he became.

He has been hiding from death for hundreds of years.

But this child—it's hard to imagine what kind of childhood he went through.

Albus, this is your best student!

Professor Dumbledore, standing nearby, had a similar expression to Nick, except he wasn't as surprised. In their first year, before the Mirror of Erised, he had already seen through the boy's true nature.

What he didn't expect was that Irving was far more capable than he had imagined.

"You surprise me, Owen. I never knew you had such insights into death." Professor Dumbledore looked at him kindly, his eyes growing increasingly gentle.

"(ˉ▽￣～)Tch~~I am a great sage." Owen proudly raised his head, looking down at the two old men whose combined age was nearly eight hundred.

"Alright, let's get down to business!" The old headmaster smiled noncommittally, then gestured for Owen to take the thing out.

Owen, understanding Dumbledore's unspoken message, got up and took his suitcase from the chair where he had slept all day.

In front of Nick, he slowly opened the box, and a small creature wearing a top hat walked out of it.

"Oh! Sir, it's you!"

Dobby cautiously poked his head out, holding a hoe.

The tall hat on its head was far too high for it, forcing it to constantly support it with one hand.

"Meow~" Then, taking advantage of the crack in the box, a small white creature leaped out from under Dobby's feet and jumped into Owen's arms.

Sirocco excitedly licked his cheek, making Owen feel strangely ticklish.

"Oh! It seems to be in good health!" Dumbledore nodded, his gaze sweeping over Owen without leaving a trace, before turning to his old friend, Nick.

Then a commotion arose from the box; this time it was Bakal.

The little dragon flapped its wings and landed on Owen's shoulder, its head gently nuzzling against his earlobe.

This sparked a competitive spirit in another white beast, and Sirocco suddenly crawled out of Owen's arms and leaped onto his head.

The white beast tilted its head back, its sapphire-like eyes lowering, its mane-covered head looking extremely majestic.

Young man, you need to understand your place!

"What adorable little ones."

Nicholas Lemai looked up, a startled smile spreading across his withered face.

"Look at its claws," he said, pointing at Sirocco. "Those don't look like the claws of a Zouwu."

"Oh my God, look at its head, those two little bumps. And the patterns on its belly. Those spots."

"Incredible, absolutely incredible! Someone has managed to combine the abilities of several magical creatures into one person." A glint flashed in Nick's eyes, the excited expression a scientist would show when seeing the perfect research material.

"And an old friend~" Before Dumbledore could finish speaking, a hissing sound came from the box.

Dobby jumped out immediately, hiding fearfully behind Owen's chair. He poked his head out, his big eyes staring timidly at the box.

Then a python, about ten inches long, slowly crawled out of the box.

She flicked her tongue, her wild, beastly gaze sweeping over everyone present.

However—after being taught Parseltongue by Dumbledore for a while, the python seemed to have lessened its aggression.

Maybe she was just full.

Nagini, who had climbed out of the box, did not attack anyone. Instead, she curled up in a ball and watched them warily.

"This is—Nagil?"

Nicolas Flamel certainly recognized her; decades ago, at Dumbledore's request, he had studied the Blood Curse, but ultimately had not found a way to break the spell.

Or perhaps, if Nagini were still in her mother's womb, he might have had some options.

Before he was ten years old, he also had some methods.

However, when they first met, the girl was already in her twenties, and the curse in her blood had long since eroded her body and even her soul.

Even the world's greatest alchemist could not reverse this trend.

unless--

"These are things I should study carefully." Nick's eyes gleamed. As an old man who had lived for over six hundred years, he knew better than anyone how to maintain enthusiasm and not go crazy.

Maintaining curiosity is definitely the best approach.

"Oh! By the way, Owen." Dumbledore suddenly seemed to remember something, and after exchanging a glance with Nick, he said enthusiastically, "Miss Granger seems to have arrived in Paris with her parents. Would you like to go and meet her?"

"Besides, this is practically your hometown, why don't you go take a look around?"

"."

"snort!"

"If you find me an eyesore and want to get rid of me, just say so. Why beat around the bush!" Owen jumped up from the sofa, then took Sirocco off his head and hugged him.

Well—Bakal is one thing, but Muggles can't accept the existence of dragons.

"How am I supposed to get back?"

"Use this!" Nick handed Owen a compass. "It will guide you home."

"oh!"

After handing Bakal to Dumbledore, Owen picked up Shirlock and strode away, saying, "I'm going out for a stroll."

The narrow door was opened, then closed again.

Dobby naturally chased after it, wearing an exaggeratedly long black cloak. As it left, its robe got caught in the door. "Ouch!" it cried out, then pushed the door open, rubbed its head, held the robe in its arms, and closed the door again!

"This child!" Dumbledore couldn't help but smile.

However, the smile didn't last long and quickly turned serious.

"Did you find anything?" he asked softly.

"I hope you're mentally prepared, Albus." Nick rarely showed an apologetic expression. Then, he slowly got up, jogged to the bookshelf, and pulled out a parchment from two huge magic books.

"I never imagined that someone would actually experiment with such forbidden magic."

He returned the parchment to Dumbledore.

"You should know that the greatest achievement in alchemy has never been the Philosopher's Stone."

"Human alchemy is the ultimate pursuit of alchemists—to create life from inorganic matter. For thousands of years, from Aristotle and Abraham to Xu Fu, Heinrich, and Paracelsus, no one has ever succeeded."

"This child is a miracle."

As he spoke, Nick's expression turned melancholy, as if he had aged considerably in an instant.

His figure was like the afterglow of the setting sun, unwilling to sink into the sea.

The lingering red light transformed into threads, holding the hands of the clouds and mist, reluctant to let go.

"But, Albus." The words stuck in his throat, and Nick was unwilling to say them.

he.

He's still so young.

Fate is so fickle and cruel that it makes one furious!

He should have rebuked, not gone gently into that good night.

Angrily denounce, angrily denounce the injustice of fate.

Angrily denounce, angrily denounce the passing of light.

"That child, he—his time is running out."

(End of this chapter)