Dragging the man into a corner, John securely tied him up.
He took the man's wand and tossed it aside before heading to Montmorency Street.
As he looked around, an old, historically significant house caught his eye.
It was surrounded by a beautiful flower garden, and people passing by seemed to ignore it entirely.
John thought for a moment and decided to take a closer look.
He knocked on the door, but there was no response. Just as he was contemplating whether to sneak in, the door suddenly opened.
A frail, elderly man with silver hair appeared. Upon seeing John, his face lit up with joy. "You finally came. Please, come in for a cup of tea. I believe the tea leaves are in the cupboard," the old man said, his voice trembling slightly as he opened the door to let John in. He mumbled to himself, seeming like an elderly man with a fading memory.
"Please wait a moment; I still need to find a book," he said.
John stepped inside and noticed the abundance of items around him.
The room was filled with various silver items, some resembling tweezers, others like silver chopsticks.
John took a seat, observing as a nearby teapot sprang to life. The lid of a tea canister opened, and tea leaves floated into the teapot.
The teapot's round body wobbled as clear water materialized inside it.
With a gentle shake, the teapot brewed a pot of fresh red tea.
John watched in amazement, noting the clear alchemical influence on the teapot.
Meanwhile, the elderly man was rummaging through various books, piling them on the floor or the table before stuffing them into a small handbag.
Despite the volume of books, the bag showed no signs of bulging—an evident use of the Undetectable Extension Charm.
After completing his task, the old man, looking satisfied, stood for a moment before approaching John.
"Sorry to keep you waiting. These things have been here so long that sometimes I forget where I've put them," he said.
He extended his hand to John. Seeing the man's frail appearance, John carefully touched his hand.
Despite his caution, the elderly man's hand, as delicate as an old cookie, caused him to yelp in pain.
John was startled, thinking he might have been too rough.
"It's alright," the old man said, noticing John's worried expression. "Hello, John Wick, I'm Nicolas Flamel."
John was taken aback; the Nicolas Flamel he had been eager to meet was right in front of him. Flamel appeared frail, as though his body was on the brink of breaking.
"I should have taught you in person, but the events of this past year have delayed me. However, my journal tells me you have great talent," Nicolas Flamel said, handing John the bag filled with books. He smiled warmly.
The journal was an artifact created by Flamel himself. It contained a projection of his younger self and allowed for long-distance communication with the real Flamel.
The books inside the bag were a gift, filled with notes and insights from Flamel's extended life.
John pondered for a moment and asked, "Is it because of the Philosopher's Stone?"
He wasn't naive. It seemed like Flamel was preparing to say his final goodbyes. Considering Dumbledore's public statement about the stone being destroyed, it made sense that Flamel was nearing the end of his prolonged life.
Flamel shook his head, still smiling. "Child, everyone must face death eventually. If it weren't for your arrival, the Philosopher's Stone would have been destroyed in June."
Indeed, Flamel's time was almost up. The remaining Elixir of Life was only enough to sustain him for this year.
This legendary alchemist, who had lived for six hundred and sixty-five years, was about to end his long life. If it weren't for John's appearance, he might never have thought of taking on a student.
Through Dumbledore's introduction and the feedback from the journal, Nicolas Flamel felt that John was the perfect candidate to inherit his knowledge.
John felt a bit disheartened. He had thought he had finally found a teacher to guide him in alchemy, only to discover that this meeting would also be a farewell.
This was Nicolas Flamel's old residence. He had originally planned to retire in Devon until his death.
Accepting the bag of books, John's mood grew heavier.
"Teacher, who was that person outside?" John asked, recalling the man he had encountered earlier.
Nicolas Flamel smiled at the title. Even though they had just met, it felt as if they had known each other for a long time.
"That was a Death Eater. Even though Voldemort was defeated, his followers still seek the means for his return," Flamel replied, his expression turning serious at the mention of the name.
The old man had lived through two Dark Lord eras and knew well Voldemort's obsession with immortality, a desire that could only be described as pathological.
Despite Voldemort's downfall twelve years ago, his followers continued to seek out Nicolas Flamel, hoping to resurrect their master.
To teach John, Flamel had temporarily separated from his wife and returned to his old home.
During the remaining holiday time, John stayed with his teacher, Nicolas Flamel.
He greedily absorbed alchemical knowledge, as the old man's erudition extended beyond a single field. He possessed master-level understanding of Runes, Charms, and Magical Creatures.
Day by day, John soaked up all the knowledge like a sponge. Flamel was very satisfied with his student, noting that alchemy required both talent and a persistent, never-fading quest for knowledge and exploration.
John had both qualities. In his student, Flamel saw a reflection of his younger self—the same dedication to alchemy and hunger for knowledge.
John's Philosopher's Stone was destroyed. Having the world's only person who had ever made a Philosopher's Stone by his side, John didn't feel it was a loss.
As time dwindled, John knew it was time for their farewell.
"John, you are the most talented student I have ever seen," said Nicolas Flamel.
He was leaving to spend his final days with his wife.
Teaching John had been gratifying and fulfilling for him.
"The exploration of the alchemical path will never cease. The Philosopher's Stone is not your end, but your beginning."
He had already taught John the method for creating the Philosopher's Stone. Standing on the shoulders of giants, John naturally saw further, and Nicolas Flamel's expectations for him grew even higher.
By the time John will become a new titan of alchemy, Nicolas Flamel will be long gone.
John embraced his teacher gently, filled with reluctance. However, Flamel was at peace, unafraid of death.
To him, death was like finally finding a place to lie down and rest after working for so long.
With Flamel's departure, John's journey in France came to an end.
John returned to Beauxbatons and retrieved his diary.
Fleur was reluctant to part with John, as he was one of her few friends.
"Fleur, we will meet again. Perhaps next time it won't be at Beauxbatons, but at Hogwarts," John said with a smile. He recalled that there was a storyline involving several schools competing in a tournament.
Beauxbatons was one of them.
It wasn't impossible for Fleur, as a Beauxbatons student, to make an appearance.
He handed a badge to Fleur.
Fleur said reluctantly: "Remember to write to me. Your owl is a little fat. Let it exercise more."
The despised Basil was innocently caught in the crossfire.
John naturally agreed straightforwardly. After the two said goodbye, John came to the hiding place and wandered around the square. He finally found the drunk who sold the portal.
After John left, the drunk was hung on the statue, and his wand was thrown into the stinky ditch.
"Heh, don't think I forgot about you!"
John was vindictive. After being cheated of three Galleons, John hung the drunk for three days.
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12 Advance Chapters- Patreon.com/Dragonel