Hogwarts: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me From Studying

Vid twirled a rather splendid quill in his hand.

The pale golden barrel, engraved with intricate and tight magic patterns, was topped with a long, straight feather as white as snow. Silver threads coiled together at the junction, forming the image of a bird spiraling around the pen shaft.

This was the result of recent efforts by Vid and Nicolas Flamel.

Since it was a whimsy creation, the two never considered the cost, and Nicolas Flamel had a collection of all types of alchemy materials, completely unhesitant to use incredibly expensive and rare materials on this small quill.

The brand new Daydream Quill lived up to its high cost, weaving dreams almost incredibly lifelike. If it weren’t for the spell always imparting a trace of consciousness, distinguishing dreams from reality based solely on the five senses would be impossible.

And realism was just a surface merit; in fact, the quill’s greatest feature was its ability to write continuously and automatically, maintaining the duration of the daydream.

An excellent alchemist cannot resist the urge to make the newly born magic items more perfect.

Though Flamel and Vid designed a series of ”anti-addiction” measures, the modification Flamel made was allowing the daydream to last until the stored ink ran out.

Before the dream ended, the user essentially lived in a completely real world.

Of course, this quill was the only one of its kind. The rest of the Daydream Quills were still the ordinary version, lasting no more than thirty minutes.

After completing the modification, Nicolas Flamel reluctantly gave the quill to Vid.

”Why?” Vid asked, ”This is your creation, you could keep it.”

”No...” Flamel shook his head and said, ”I have the gift you gave me, and that’s enough. This one... it would prevent me from returning to reality.”

The old man looked at Vid, showing a helpless yet carefree smile.

”I’m old, Vid... so old that I lack the strength to wrestle with my inner desires, easily infatuated with such illusory realms.”

He slowly stood up, trembling as he walked to the wall, gently touching two rectangular wooden boxes on the shelf, one a gift from Vid, the other a trial piece from recent days.

”I will keep these two, but even so, I won’t use them often... I’ll save them for the end, then set out into the longest night, together with Pelle, in the most beautiful dream.”

Pelle, Flamel’s wife Pernell, also alive for over six hundred years.

Vid had met this long-lived lady yesterday. Despite being slightly younger than Flamel, perhaps due to less potent magic power, she appeared even older than Flamel.

The Elixir of Life could not truly prevent aging; Pernell’s skin, pale as paper, seemed already halfway into the netherworld.

Though she tried to act hospitable and kind, a few words seemed to exhaust her strength.

Upon hearing Flamel’s words, Vid raised an eyebrow in surprise, wanting to speak but holding back.

Flamel understood immediately and smiled, saying, ”Did Morry tell you not to ask me about the Philosopher’s Stone? It’s alright, you can ask, Vid—what alchemist wouldn’t be curious about the Philosopher’s Stone?”

Since he said so, Vid asked boldly.

”Sir, did you really destroy it?” Vid asked curiously, ”What if... you regret it when the time comes?”

Flamel laughed, extended his hand, showing both sides.

His palm seemed molded from white clay, bloodless, with nails peeling away like layers of paper.

”Look at me, child, look at me...”

Flamel said softly, ”Even if others don’t say it, I increasingly feel unlike a living person... more like an alchemy creation imbued with a soul.”

”No... I should say, even your poppets are more vibrant than me.”

”I’m like a ghost from six hundred years ago, though stealing time from the cracks of years, the God of Death always stands behind me, never leaving... I am the ember left after the coal is burnt out, without warmth, unsure if I am even real.”

”For me and Pelle, immortality has long ceased to be a gift; it feels more like a curse from the gods.”

”So... yes, I destroyed the Philosopher’s Stone. Because—as you said—I deeply know my greed for ’living,’ afraid that at the end, I’ll suddenly lose the courage to move forward.”

”So you left yourself no way out,” Vid remarked, ”But isn’t that a kind of bravery too?”

”No, Vid.” Nicolas Flamel shook his head, ”True bravery should be like Albus Dumbledore, unafraid whatever awaits ahead. Even if the path is utterly dark, he becomes the beacon... But I chose to escape.”

The candle’s flickering light reflected in Nicolas Flamel’s eyes, where Vid saw both sighing and awe.

Vid whispered, ”Professor Dumbledore?”

”Yes.” Flamel smiled slightly, ”Did you know? I once wanted to give the Philosopher’s Stone to him. His age is only a sixth of mine, yet to me, he’s still a young chap, with much journey ahead. But... do you know what Dumbledore said?”

Vid: ”... Death is a great adventure?”

”Ah, you’ve heard, haven’t you?” Flamel chuckled, ”He also said... he’s found something more precious than immortality...”

The old man looked at the boy’s clear eyes, as if once again hearing an unwavering reply from Dumbledore—

”I don’t need eternal life, Nicolas.”

”The continuation of life is not in a cold stone, but in those young eyes...”

”Watching them with light in their eyes, poring over books in the library, running on the grass, seeing them learn to make spells burst from their wand tips, it feels as if my life and thoughts are continuing in another form.”

Vid waited for a moment, seeing Flamel seemingly lost in thought, couldn’t help but ask, ”Something more precious than immortality... is it ’love’?”

Flamel said softly, ”No, it’s you... and kids like you... in Albus’s eyes, you are the true ’Philosopher’s Stone.’”

Vid was taken aback.

”He made me realize how foolish and arrogant my avoidance of death was—the real eternal life should be in inheritance.”

Flamel laughed, ”Vid, I once wanted to give all my books and research to Dumbledore, but then I thought, he already has enough trouble. So... would you accept this gift?”