Hogwarts Raven (Harry Potter)

Ian hesitated, unsure of how to tactfully explain that he had already designed self-operating alchemical guardians capable of thrashing most students in a duel.

"Take your time," Nicolas Flamel said warmly, misreading the silence. "I'll be around Hogwarts for a good few years yet."

He hadn't the faintest idea how far along Ian truly was.

"Professor…"

Seeing Flamel turn to study the Mirror of Erised, Ian decided it was best to be direct, at least a little.

"I've actually been trying to replicate the Room of Requirement," He said casually, and with a snap of his fingers, began pulling out piles of notes. Thousands of parchment sheets, densely inked with diagrams, magical sequences, and annotated rune circles, spilled from his pouch like a cascade of ancient secrets.

Nicolas Flamel stared down at the mass of documents.

"?????"

He fell into stunned silence.

Suddenly, Flamel realised he'd vastly underestimated the boy Dumbledore had spoken so highly of.

At that moment, 

"I did say he was extraordinary," Albus Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye, glancing over from Voldemort's remains with a soft chuckle.

"…"

Nicolas Flamel opened his mouth in some sort of retort, but nothing came out.

'Extraordinary? This child looked like he'd started his magical education in the womb!'

Flamel realised he knew almost nothing about the boy standing before him.

"What year are you in?" He asked, his voice laced with disbelief.

"First year, Professor," Ian replied, trying his best to maintain an innocent and respectful air.

"And when exactly did you begin studying alchemy?"

Nicolas's eyelid twitched involuntarily. He'd clearly expected Ian to be several years older, perhaps even a NEWT-level student, given his knowledge.

"About a week before term started, I think?" Ian scratched his head thoughtfully, unable to recall the exact moment he'd begun.

"…" 

Nicolas Flamel fell silent once more.

He couldn't help but study the young wizard before him again, emotions stirring in a way they hadn't in decades. In his own first year of magical and alchemical education, he had barely managed to master the basics of Ancient Runes! Yet here stood a boy of eleven, already delving into the secrets of the Come and Go Room left behind by one of the Founders!

'Your magical power is already so extraordinary, where on earth do you find the time to study alchemy?'

Nicolas Flamel's gaze finally settled on Ian's remarkably composed face, handsome in a refined sort of way, and he pondered silently, unable to discern what area of magic this child might not excel in.

'So much for the universe being fair!'

"Your classmates are definitely going to feel overshadowed when you grow up," Nicolas Flamel blurted suddenly, unable to suppress his own feelings of envy. He firmly believed no wizard could be good at everything, there had to be a flaw somewhere.

"?????"

Now it was Ian's turn to look bewildered.

He had the odd impression that Nicolas Flamel's remark was more vicious than any hex Voldemort could have thrown at him.

"Don't fret. If such issues ever arise, alchemy provides certain… remedial charms," Nicolas Flamel added cryptically, crouching down to examine the thick sheaf of parchment Ian had spread on the ground.

"So, Professor…" Ian said, schooling his features into a reserved expression. "Do I have the qualifications, and the honour, to learn alchemy from you?"

Nicolas Flamel looked up with an even more complex expression than before.

'You're already researching one of the greatest enchanted rooms in Hogwarts, and you're still humbly asking me about qualifications? If you don't qualify, who in the wizarding world possibly could?'

"Of course, there's no problem. In fact… it may be my honour instead." Nicolas Flamel's voice softened, his eyes glinting with renewed purpose.

The old alchemist had reached a moment of clarity.

Just as the greatest witches and wizards of the past sought apprentices to pass on their knowledge, so too had he yearned for someone to continue the path he could no longer tread, to see the magical frontiers he never reached.

And this boy, this remarkable young wizard, might very well be that person.

Perhaps fate truly had not abandoned him, perhaps it had sent him a successor before he left this world.

Nicolas Flamel had trained many in alchemy, but never had he found a true heir to his life's work.

"Perhaps it's him…" Nicolas Flamel thought, his heart suddenly alight with hope.

But still, curiosity lingered.

"Tell me, Ian," He asked, "Why did you choose to replicate the Room of Requirement? It's not exactly the most desirable venture for an aspiring alchemist."

Nicolas Flamel had asked not to criticise, but to understand the boy's drive. He believed true mastery came from original thought, not merely rehashing the brilliance of others.

Ian answered without hesitation, "Because my previous Alchemy professor told me that if I wanted to study under him, I'd need to fully understand the secrets of the Room of Requirement first."

For a moment, Nicolas Flamel was speechless.

'What kind of Alchemy professor sets such an absurd requirement?'

That's not a test, that's a way of shooing students off!

"I daresay he was politely declining your request, yes… That must be it," Nicolas Flamel said after a beat. "In truth, he likely didn't possess the ability to replicate the Come and Go Room himself."

"And yet clearly," He added, glancing at the mountain of runes and parchment, "You took his polite refusal with perfect sincerity…" Nicolas Flamel looked at Ian's bright, hopeful eyes with a complicated expression in his eyes.

He usually wouldn't speak ill of others, but when it came to apprentices and legacy… he couldn't help but be cautious. He had to ensure this young talent wasn't misled.

Still, he wasn't particularly worried, who, after all, could rival him in alchemy?

It was more a matter of teaching Ian how the world really worked.

Because to be an alchemist…

You couldn't afford to be too trusting.

'One moment you're a bright-eyed apprentice, the next you're trapped in a cursed workshop, bottling shrinking solutions for a dodgy potion peddler.'

That was a lesson he'd learned the hard way.

"Ah? Really?" Ian blinked, feigning surprise even though he privately doubted Nicolas Flamel's analysis. But he wasn't foolish enough to contradict his would-be mentor.

"Exactly! That must be it!" Nicolas Flamel seized the moment with renewed passion. "I've looked into your former professor, who always arrived on time, left the minute the hour struck. Clearly the sort who treats teaching like a clock-in job. Your request would have been seen as nothing more than extra paperwork."

"He's not like me," Nicolas added with a dignified air, "I'm always available. You can pop in for help any time, even at night. I don't require much sleep these days."

A six-hundred-year-old alchemist.

A legend in the wizarding world.

And yet… There was something oddly endearing in the way he promoted himself with such humble insistence.

"Nicolas, about the previous Alchemy professor, actually…" Albus Dumbledore, who had just returned from examining Voldemort's remains, opened his mouth to interject.

But seeing Nicolas Flamel's indignant zeal, he hesitated.

In the end, Dumbledore said nothing. Whatever he had learned, or suspected, about Arthur King, he kept it to himself.

Some matters were best left for another time.

"There's no actuality about it! I, the greatest alchemist of this century! Albus, are you seriously suggesting I'm not capable of teaching your student properly?" Nicolas Flamel, slightly misinterpreting the situation, gave Albus Dumbledore a sharp look.

"I'd never doubt your capabilities, not for a moment," Albus said quickly, nodding with an affable smile. He knew full well how to soothe the feelings of an elderly wizard.

After all, 

The older a wizard gets, the more they begin to resemble a child.

This was a truth well-known among those who'd spent time around the venerable members of the magical community.

"Did you hear that, young man? Your Headmaster knows just how talented I am. Any time you find yourself free, come and find me, I'll be happy to offer you private instruction."

Nicolas Flamel barely needed to glance at the parchment scattered on the floor to gauge Ian's grasp of alchemy. Even so, he found himself silently thankful that he'd come to Hogwarts on a whim for a bit of amusement.

"Yes, I'll definitely come to see you, Professor!" Ian replied, clearly delighted.

While Professor Morgan was another source he could turn to for alchemical insight, that path would only be open after a specific period. Having the greatest alchemist of the age available for consultation at any time was an unexpected and welcome advantage.

(To Be Continued…)

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