Young Celestial Wizard [Celestial Grimoire, Harry Potter]

---Two Months Later, November 1987---

"Again," Nicolas said, barely containing his excitement as he watched Harry maintain the black sphere of flame. Tiny points of white light leaked from its surface like stars appearing at dusk. "Look at those motes - they're much brighter today!"

Harry focused, carefully feeding more of his mist into the sphere. Seven minutes had passed. The black sphere hung in the air of the underground testing chamber, hungrily consuming every trace of magical energy that came near it. The chamber itself, built from smooth granite blocks, hummed faintly with protective charms.

"Seven minutes thirty seconds," Nicolas noted, practically bouncing on his heels. "The sphere's surface is becoming more crystalline! We might actually witness a successful transition to the Albedo phase!"

Harry maintained his concentration but shared Nicolas's enthusiasm. They'd been at this for months now, ever since returning from the shopping trip to Place Cachée. After that… event, Harry had begged to visit Charlotte at Hogwarts and heal her cursed scars, but Nicolas had told him it was best to visit someone willing to test experimental healing first.

They had visited Nicolas's friend Jean-Paul soon after. That had been a sobering experience - while his divine healing had eased the old war veteran's pain from his cursed injuries, it couldn't remove the scars or restore his missing leg. Harry had felt the divine energy trying to purge the dark magic, but it wasn't strong enough yet. It had felt like trying to wash away dried paint with a gentle stream instead of a powerful jet of water.

"Eight minutes," Nicolas called out. More white motes were escaping now, creating a faint corona around the black flame sphere. "The energy conversion is stabilizing. Keep feeding it your mist - slow and steady."

The sphere had proven fascinating in its selective appetite. It devoured magical energy in all forms – Nicolas' spells, Harry's mist, even the energy released from an alchemical item - but couldn't touch divine energy at all. Harry figured it was because divine energy existed on a higher plane. As Nicolas had explained, it followed Aristotle's principle of like affecting like - the sphere, born from the material world even if through chi manipulated using alchemical principles, could only break down energy that operated near the same fundamental level as itself. Divine energy, being purely of the celestial sphere, remained beyond its reach.

At eight minutes and ten seconds, the sphere finally collapsed, dissolving into its usual acidic liquid before evaporating. Harry watched it fade, thinking of how the ancient Greeks viewed dissolution not as destruction but as a return to primary elements. 'Analyzing kata meros' - breaking things down to their constituent parts. Wasn't that exactly what the black sphere was trying to do to any energy it touched? Breaking, or rather, burning it down to its most basic form to progress to Albedo?

Harry finally lowered his hands, working out the stiffness in his shoulders. "That's the longest yet. And did you notice? The white motes stayed visible for almost three seconds after the collapse this time."

"Indeed!" Nicolas pulled out his notebook, already scribbling observations. "We're definitely approaching a threshold. The increasing duration, the crystalline surface patterns, the persistent motes - all signs point to an imminent phase transition. Though I admit, using your mist as the primary energy source is quite innovative. Most alchemists would insist on pure elemental forces for something like this."

Harry had discovered that his mist worked better than regular spells for feeding the sphere. Perhaps because it contained both magical energy and something of the soul, as Grandpa had theorized. The mixture seemed to resonate with the sphere's transformative nature.

"Should we try another attempt?" Harry asked, though he already knew he'd reached his limit for the day.

"No, no," Nicolas waved his hand. "Too much forcing never ends well in alchemy. Besides, we have your potions lesson to get to." He smirked slightly. "Unless you'd rather skip it?"

"Never," Harry said firmly. The past two months of almost daily lessons had been incredible. His enhanced learning speed and potions talent combined with perfect memory meant he absorbed everything near-instantly. They'd progressed from simple potions that cured boils to ones usually reserved for fifth-year students that made you smarter, stronger or transformed you into another person entirely. Every process, every ingredient interaction, every subtle color change - all permanently stored in his mind.

They climbed the stone steps from the testing chamber, and Harry couldn't help but sigh softly when he thought of his regular firebending. It seemed he had reached the natural limit in terms of instinctual guidance - seven core techniques mastered but no new ones revealing themselves.

Spark of Fire, Fire Jab, Fire Stream, Fire Lash, Blazing Rings, Whip of Fire and Shield of Fire.

If Harry wanted to learn new uses of his firebending, he felt he'd need to actually create them fully on his own. He couldn't count on the instincts gifted by the firebending offer anymore.

Did that mean Harry was worried he would get stuck from here on? Absolutely not. The quintessence flame was something he had invented on his own without any instinctual guidance, even if its combat applications were currently limited.

"Uncle Nicolas," Harry asked as they reached the main floor, where warm sunlight streamed through tall windows, "I've been thinking about practical applications for the Nigredo phase. If I could maintain it while moving, couldn't it act as a defense against charms? "

"Ah, thinking tactically!" Nicolas nodded approvingly. "Though you'd need to solve several problems first. The sphere's range is limited, its pull isn't very strong, and you'll need to be careful not to depend on its protection. Still, it's worth exploring in the future."

They passed through Nicolas's study, where books and scrolls covered every surface. The room connected to a bright conservatory where Perenelle experimented with her magical plants. Harry spotted the Singing Snapdragons they'd been cultivating - just one of many species he'd never seen at Hogwarts. Most magical plants around the castle probably ended up harvested for potions classes, with the truly interesting ones hidden away in the Forbidden Forest.

Harry perked up when he heard Grandpa Dumbledore's voice coming from deeper inside the conservatory. He wondered if Grandpa had brought news from Hogwarts…

When he recalled what happened the last time Grandpa visited, he couldn't help but snigger quietly. A week after the incident at Place Cachée, Dumbledore had arrived to find the Flamels moving with an ease they hadn't ever shown in his presence. When they explained Harry's divine healing spell, connected to the collective faith in the Boy-Who-Lived, Grandpa's usual composed demeanor had cracked completely.

"But how?" Grandpa had asked, eyes blown wide behind his half-moon spectacles. "This shouldn't be possible..."

Harry hadn't understood why Grandpa seemed so worried afterwards. The ability to refine people's faith into divine energy that he could heal people with seemed perfectly reasonable to him, especially since it might help Charlotte. The more he thought about it, the more possibilities he saw.

If people's belief in him could result in divine energy, then surely increasing that belief would make the energy stronger? Strong enough to heal cursed scars, maybe. The solution seemed obvious - he needed to be more of a hero to those too weak to protect themselves.

He had read the stories about Gilderoy Lockhart's adventures that some of the older students at Hogwarts often raved about. Defeating monsters, saving villages, that sort of thing. The Hero's Journal residing in his Hun Soul seemed to approve of this line of thinking. After all, wasn't that what heroes did? Go on adventures, face challenges, help people?

The Ice Vault incident had already given him a taste of adventure. People had talked about it for weeks afterward, though the details had gotten rather mixed up in the telling. Still, he had helped solve the mystery and it had added to his reputation, hadn't it?

Maybe the Hero's Journal would guide him to more adventures soon. More chances to prove himself worthy of people's faith in the Boy-Who-Lived. More opportunities to gather the power needed to help his friends.

But those thoughts could wait. They'd reached the spot where Grandpa Dumbledore was talking with Perenelle, surrounded by some potted Spleenwart on both sides.

The conservatory door creaked open as Harry entered. Grandpa Dumbledore turned from his conversation, eyes twinkling as he spotted Harry.

"Ah, there's my budding young alchemist," Dumbledore said warmly. "I trust your experiments are progressing well?"

"I maintained the Nigredo sphere for over eight minutes today," Harry reported proudly. "The white motes lasted longer too."

Nicolas cleared his throat. "Actually, Albus, we wanted to discuss something with you. Perenelle and I have been thinking..."

"We're planning to take Harry on a trip around the world," Perenelle cut in excitedly in a way Harry had never heard before from her. "Starting with Greece - there are some fascinating sites there that could give Harry some good memories."

Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up. "A world tour? But you haven't left France in..." He trailed off, looking between the old couple with growing understanding.

Perenelle's laugh was light and musical. "Yes, well, we've been rather limited in our movements for... quite some time." She touched her chest, where Harry knew centuries of pain had once been. "But now, thanks to a certain someone, we find ourselves quite capable of adventure again."

"And you needn't worry about safety," Nicolas added, wrapping an arm around his wife. "I'll divine potential threats regularly, even if it strains me. Between that and our combined experience, Harry will be well protected."

"Besides," Perenelle added with a slight smirk, "I seem to recall a certain young wizard who once insisted on traveling to Egypt to study ancient magic, despite his teacher's concerns."

Dumbledore chuckled, tugging at his beard. "I suppose I did set something of a precedent there. Though I wasn't quite seven years old at the time."

"Seven going on seventy, in Harry's case," Nicolas said fondly. "Just yesterday he was explaining to me why the efficient recipe of Wit-Sharpening Potion wastes perfectly good ingredients that could be used for other potions."

Harry felt his cheeks warm slightly. "Well, it does! If you just adjusted the proportion of Ginger Roo-"

"Perhaps we could save the potions discussion for after we've settled the travel plans?" Perenelle suggested gently. "Albus, we'd like to leave next week, if you're amenable. We can arrange regular check-ins through the phoenix books."

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully, looking at Harry. "And what do you think about all this, my boy?"

Harry didn't even have to think about it. Hadn't he fantasized for weeks now of going on adventures? He needed to go on this tour.

"I want to go," he said firmly. "There's so much to learn out there. And..." he hesitated before adding, "maybe we'll find something that could help Charlotte's cursed scars too."

Dumbledore's expression softened. "Very well. Though I expect regular letters, young man. And do try not to start any international magical incidents?"

Harry grinned at Dumbledore's last comment. "I'll write every week, Grandpa. Promise."

A burst of flame above Dumbledore's head interrupted any response he might have made. Fawkes appeared in a shower of golden sparks, carrying a letter sealed with the Hogwarts crest. The phoenix trilled a worried note that made the Singing Snapdragons stop their humming.

"Most unusual," Dumbledore murmured, breaking the seal. His eyes darted across the parchment, and the customary twinkle vanished from them. "It seems my visit must be cut short. Hogsmeade is currently being terrorized by charmed skeletons of all things."

Harry perked up instantly. This was exactly the sort of thing he'd been thinking about - a chance to help people, to be the hero they believed in. "I could help! My fire would work great against skeletons, and-"

"Absolutely not," Dumbledore cut him off. "You are far too young to face such dangers, regardless of your abilities."

"But-"

"No buts, Harry," Nicolas placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Albus, you should go. We'll keep an eye on this little troublemaker here."

Harry crossed his arms and tried not to sulk too obviously. He understood the logic - seven was young, even if he didn't feel young most of the time. But still... how was he supposed to prove himself worthy of people's faith if they wouldn't let him help?

"I'll send word once the situation is resolved. And Harry?" Dumbledore paused with a grip on Fawkes' claws. "Sometimes the most heroic thing we can do is wait until we're truly ready."

With a flash of flames, he was gone. Harry stared at the floor, wondering if being "truly ready" would feel any different than he felt right now.