That night marked Mirabel's third Christmas since enrolling at Hogwarts.
In southwestern England lies Devon, the only county with two coastlines, nestled at the heart of the Cornwall Peninsula. Within Devon sits a coastal town called Exmouth, and at the western edge of the Jurassic Coast—a UNESCO World Heritage Site—stood a small cottage hidden from Muggle eyes.
The cottage's owner was a man who had lived 667 years, likely the oldest human being alive. His name was Nicholas Flamel.
He was the first alchemist to successfully create the Philosopher's Stone and had been a partner of Albus Dumbledore. Though he had enjoyed an extended life thanks to the Stone's power, his time was finally drawing to a close. Believing he had lived long enough, he had consulted with Dumbledore and decided to destroy the Philosopher's Stone, choosing to die peacefully alongside his wife after settling his affairs.
However, "malice" would not allow the man who was meant to die peacefully to depart in peace. It had set its sights on his great achievement—the creation of the Philosopher's Stone, and reached out with evil intent toward the dying old man. Such hopeless existence, such uncontrollable "evil," certainly exists in this world.
That night, Nicholas was enjoying a modest Christmas—likely his last—with his wife Perenelle and their pet, Neesle. The table held simple fare: chicken, cake, and other humble Christmas dishes, accompanied by a few modest decorations. It was certainly nothing like the extravagant Christmas celebrations at Hogwarts, devoid of glamour or splendor.
Yet for Nicholas, it was more than enough to bring him happiness. This Christmas was full enough for the last one of his life.
The only regret was that their pet might pass before them. Weakened by illness, the creature could barely eat and lay listlessly on the floor. Even when he tried to heal it, an old man's magic wasn't enough to cure it completely. That was his sole regret, yet still he felt content.
But the presence that would shatter this blissful moment appeared suddenly, without warning. Without even the sound that usually accompanies such arrivals, two figures materialized in the room.
One was a hunchbacked man with a suspicious mask covering his face. His arm—apparently prosthetic, glowed with an eerie light, emanating an unsettling presence merely by existing.
The other was a beautiful girl with golden hair and eyes to match. Her beauty, as if crafted by divine hands, was marred by overwhelming malice that contradicted her appearance entirely.
"Who are you!?" Nicholas instinctively reached into his robes for his wand, but it was already too late. Far too late. There was no way an old man facing death could match her speed—Mirabel's speed.
"Experia Arms!" "Stupefy! Petrificus Totalus!"
Different crimson flashes erupted from Mirabel's hands and Quirrell's wand, striking Nicholas and Perenelle. Nicholas's weapon was torn from his grasp while his wife collapsed as if her strings had been cut.
After rendering them helpless, Quirrell swiftly restrained Nicholas.
"Who are you?! What do you want—!"
"Don't make such a fuss. I have no intention of causing unnecessary harm."
It all happened in an instant. Before Nicholas could comprehend the situation, the girl who had seized control of his home spoke without a trace of remorse.
"First, allow me to introduce myself. It's an honor to meet you, great sage Nicholas Flamel."
"Don't speak such hollow words! What is your purpose?"
Nicholas's weathered face contorted with rage, and Mirabel smiled crookedly. It truly wasn't easy to say things one didn't mean. Indeed, she had resorted to such methods, but she still held genuine respect for his achievements. Of course, she didn't expect him to believe her—in this situation, believing her would be impossible.
"I want to create the Philosopher's Stone. That is my purpose."
"What?!"
"I am currently attempting to create the Philosopher's Stone, but progress has stalled. I've already analyzed the 'fragment' and completed ninety percent, but I cannot bridge the remaining ten percent. If I had another four or five years, I might complete it, but that would be too late. Therefore, I thought to ask you—the Stone's creator—for assistance."
Mirabel possessed the "fragment" she had obtained in her first year. Through analyzing it, she had come remarkably close to completing the Stone. But even at the pinnacle of alchemy, things don't proceed so smoothly. That's why Mirabel had conceived the idea of stealing Nicholas's memories as an expedient solution.
"I don't expect you to cooperate willingly. I'll simply examine your memories without permission."
"The Philosopher's Stone... was a joint creation with Dumbledore... Even if you see my memories, you won't be able to recreate it..."
Watching Nicholas speak as if forcing out each word, Mirabel's smile deepened. She narrowed her eyes and chuckled mockingly.
"You're a terrible liar, Nicholas Flamel."
"What?!"
Mirabel reached her conclusion without explaining her reasoning. Nicholas's eyes widened in shock. Quirrell had no idea how she'd arrived at that conclusion, but judging from Nicholas's reaction, she'd struck the mark perfectly.
"How...?"
"Nicholas Flamel. Born in 1330, now 667 years old. In the Muggle world, he worked as a publisher; in the wizarding world, he's known as the first person to create the Philosopher's Stone. He's also famous for his alchemical research with Albus Dumbledore... correct?"
"What of it?"
"Hmm... I see. Written that way, it doesn't explicitly state he created the Philosopher's Stone through research with Dumbledore. Perhaps many people actually believe that interpretation. But only ignorant children would be fooled by such nonsense. Right, Quirrell?"
Mirabel sought agreement from her servant with a pleased expression, but Quirrell appeared confused. It seemed he was among those who had misunderstood. Mirabel sighed at his expression and mentally noted to punish him later.
"Albus Dumbledore's documented history extends back only about a century—113 years, to be precise. That's not even a fifth of Nicholas Flamel's lifespan. Any ten-year-old can do this arithmetic: 667 minus 113 equals 554. How did you survive those 554 years before Dumbledore appeared?"
"...!"
"The answer is simple: the Philosopher's Stone. There's no other way for a human to live 550 years. This is obvious from the fact that you're slowly dying now that you've lost the Stone."
Nicholas paled at Mirabel's words, while Quirrell nodded in understanding. Now that she mentioned it, it made perfect sense. The dates simply didn't align. Even if we made the far-fetched assumption that Dumbledore was a newborn when the Stone was created, Nicholas would have been over 550 years old—meaning he'd survived all those centuries without it. Impossible, and even if it were possible, why would he have made preparations for death?
"Judging by your apparent age, you were probably in your sixties when you created it... meaning the Philosopher's Stone was completed 457 years ago. Dumbledore wasn't even born in that era."
"Then why did you allow the misunderstanding that you collaborated with Dumbledore to persist? And why, despite achieving such a monumental feat as creating the Philosopher's Stone, are you only recognized as a historical footnote?"
Nicholas Flamel's name was known in the magical world, but not as prominently as one might expect. He was barely mentioned in texts, and even Hermione hadn't known of him initially. Mirabel believed this was intentional.
"From here, this is speculation... But I suspect Dumbledore initially approached you much as I have—seeking the Philosopher's Stone."
Dumbledore had once said, "Humans have a tendency to seek what is worst for them." Mirabel speculated he spoke from experience with something related to life itself. Dumbledore called a life of mere longevity "the worst thing." Therefore, one could assume that for him, the worst thing was eternal life or anything connected to it.
And he'd said humans tend to seek such worst things. Indeed, it was telling that he spoke of despising eternal life while keeping a phoenix. In the end, despite his words, he harbored a strong longing for eternal life—to overcome death.
"Whether it was to save someone's life or simply from desire for eternal life, I have no way of knowing, and frankly, I don't care. I also don't know the circumstances that led to it... but eventually, you two reconciled."
"...Guh... ngh..."
"And here's more speculation, but I suspect a 'deal' was struck between you. You probably dislike attention. For someone like you, the name 'Great Wizard Dumbledore' must have provided convenient cover. By claiming to be his research partner, the world's attention would naturally focus on him, leaving you as merely a minor figure."
Nicholas couldn't utter a word in response to Mirabel's theory. But its truth was evident from his ashen face. Ignoring him, Mirabel continued.
"In exchange, Dumbledore received the Elixir of Life. That explains why he remains alive and active after 113 years. The Philosopher's Stone was your creation alone. Dumbledore simply arrived later and reaped the benefits."
"..."
"What do you think? Is there an error in my reasoning?"
In truth, whether Mirabel's speculation about Dumbledore and Nicholas's encounter was accurate mattered little to her. The only important point was that "the Philosopher's Stone was created by Nicholas alone." The subsequent details held little value or meaning. And that the crucial part was correct was clear from his expression. There was no point pursuing this further.
"What do you plan to do with eternal life?"
"Rule the magical world."
"What?!"
"First, I will eradicate the pure-blood supremacists led by Voldemort, then crush the corrupt Ministry of Magic. That much can be accomplished within a human lifespan, but the real challenge lies beyond. After overthrowing the current regime, establishing a new, ideal order would exceed a human lifetime."
"You fool...!"
"Even if it succeeded, would it continue after my death? No. Humans are easily led astray. Therefore, someone must guide them toward the greater good. An absolute ruler is necessary."
"Are you insane, child?!"
Even as he asked if she was mad, the answer was already clear to Nicholas. —Of course she's not sane! No person with a sound mind would think this way! They wouldn't harbor such twisted ambitions! This girl actually planned to rule the magical world forever!
"I don't expect you to understand. Only I need to understand myself."
Ignoring Nicholas's insults, Mirabel grasped his chin and forced him to meet her gaze. This was necessary to use the spell that exposed one's heart, Legilimency required eye contact. Naturally, Nicholas immediately attempted Occlumency, but couldn't activate it properly. Looking into those two golden eyes staring at him, he felt no desire to resist.
"I'll take your knowledge."
"No, stop..."
Caught between irresistible charm and the agony of having his memories forcibly extracted, Nicholas's consciousness gradually sank into darkness.
After Nicholas lost consciousness, Mirabel snapped her fingers to restore the cottage to its original state and gently stroked Neesle, who lay on the floor. Then, without a backward glance, she departed.
Minutes later, Nicholas and his wife awoke with no memory of their terrifying visitor, finding Neesle somehow restored to health, leaving them thoroughly puzzled.
Most students, including Mirabel, had returned home for Christmas, leaving Hogwarts Castle nearly empty. In the library, Harry and his friends had gathered as they had the previous year to discuss important matters.
Seated around a small table were Harry, Hermione, and Edith, their attention focused on a broomstick placed on the desk.
"So... this was sent as a Christmas present?"
"Yeah."
Harry nodded happily at Edith, who spoke without hiding her skepticism. Every Christmas, Harry received several gifts from various sources—Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, school friends. This year, however, a magnificent gift had arrived that far exceeded all others combined.
It was the broomstick on the table: the Firebolt.
"Who sent it?"
"I don't know. There's no card."
A wonderful Christmas present, that alone would have been enough. But this was far too expensive to dismiss so easily, and the sender hadn't even identified themselves. Who would spend 500 Galleons on a broomstick for Harry?
"That's unsettling... Harry, this broomstick is incredibly expensive, isn't it?"
"Probably. It's supposed to be the finest broomstick in existence."
"Who would give Harry something so costly without leaving their name?"
While Harry was thrilled to receive such a wonderful broomstick, Hermione viewed the situation with suspicion. Of course, if it was truly given with good intentions, it would be wonderful, and she didn't want to dampen her friend's joy. However, if she truly cared about her friend, simply agreeing enthusiastically wouldn't suffice. That wasn't friendship—it was just a facade, no different from Crabbe and Goyle constantly flanking Malfoy.
Therefore, Hermione was prepared to risk Harry's displeasure and voice her concerns.
"What about Dumbledore? It's obvious he cares deeply for Harry. He gave you the Invisibility Cloak, didn't he?"
"That originally belonged to my father. He wouldn't spend 500 Galleons on a single student."
"I think Dumbledore might have, though..."
Edith first suggested Dumbledore as the most likely candidate, but Harry dismissed it. As headmaster, he should treat all students fairly. He wouldn't show such extreme favoritism. ...Probably. Maybe. Most likely.
"What about Mrs. Weasley? She's been even more protective of you since last year's incident with Ron."
"No way! If she had that kind of money, she'd use it for Ron's medical expenses."
Hermione then suggested Mrs. Weasley, but Harry rejected that too. Mrs. Weasley was indeed overprotective of Harry, which had only intensified since last year's incident with Ron. She seemed to fear losing any more family or close friends. However, the simple fact remained that her financial means were questionable.
"...It couldn't be Beresford, could it? She was the one who said you needed an international-class broom..."
"I don't think that's possible, even if hell froze over. Mirabel does seem to acknowledge Harry, but she wouldn't help out of kindness."
The final candidate mentioned was the long shot—Mirabel. She had been the one to say that if Harry wanted to beat her, he should get an international-class broomstick. Given her arrogant nature, she might enjoy training her opponent to increase the challenge.
However, Edith, who knew Mirabel well, dismissed the idea immediately. Mirabel only acknowledged those who climbed to the top through their own strength. She wouldn't acknowledge someone who couldn't ascend without assistance.
"So what do we do? You're not planning to use it as-is, are you?"
"Absolutely not, Harry! We need to report this to a teacher first and have it examined!"
Harry wanted to ride this amazing broomstick as soon as possible, but Edith and Hermione were strongly opposed. After all, it was an unknown object—no one knew who had sent it or why. Using it would be reckless beyond measure. What if it was cursed? The consequences could be unimaginable.
Especially now, with Sirius Black—who sought Harry's life—lurking nearby.
"But... this might be able to match... Beresford's Silver Arrow."
"That's exactly what Black was counting on when he sent it!"
Harry's immediate goal was defeating Mirabel. For that, he absolutely needed a broomstick capable of matching her Silver Arrow. In that regard, the Firebolt met every requirement. It was the highest-quality, most advanced broomstick currently available. There was no way it couldn't compete.
However, Hermione interrupted Harry's thoughts with her sharp voice.
"Come on, let's go to a teacher! We need it examined first!"
"Wait, just once! Let me ride it just once!"
"Absolutely not! What if something happens?"
"Just briefly! Just a quick flight!"
"That makes no sense! It's still dangerous!"
Harry desperately wanted to try the broom, but Hermione dragged him away mercilessly. Watching them, Edith thought absently, "This boy's going to be completely whipped," among other trivial observations.
Author's Notes: Nimbus 2000: "Grumble grumble grumble..." "Unlike the original story, I'm still here, and yet he's already eyeing that new broom... (gripping handle tightly)" Sirius: "Um... I'm sorry."
┌┤´д`├┐ "You're so beautiful... HIN HIN"
This time we brought you the Christmas edition. Regarding Nicholas Flamel in this chapter—actually, when browsing various websites, quite a few people misunderstand that "Dumbledore and Nicholas collaborated to create the Philosopher's Stone." However, what the original work actually states is that "Nicholas created the Philosopher's Stone" and "he is famous for his alchemical research with Dumbledore."
This phrasing is easily misunderstood. I actually misinterpreted it when I first read the series. So I thought perhaps Dumbledore intentionally crafted that ambiguity, which led to this interpretation.
***
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