That morning at the Mansion was quiet, barely interrupted by the singing of birds nesting in the trees of the valley. In the main office, Aurelian stood in front of his desk, reviewing a series of scrolls, letters, and magical maps spread out on the table.
Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating his upright silhouette, dressed in a simple black robe that he liked to wear when he was alone. His eyes scanned every detail with precision. He needed to get everything ready and prepared before his trip.
On the table lay the Portkey that Nicolas Flamel had given him. He held it for a moment, twirling it between his fingers.
"What kind of training does that old man have in store for me?" he thought, smiling slightly. The mere idea amused him. Flamel was not just any wizard; he had trained Dumbledore and who knows who else, in addition to living more centuries than most could conceive. He was intrigued to imagine how far he would push him.
He leaned back in his chair. His mind was not limited to thinking about France. Very soon, another school year would begin at Hogwarts, and his priorities were clear.
"Nythoros..."
The basilisk that guarded the Chamber of Secrets. Convincing it to leave its confinement and follow him to Gaunt Manor was the first thing he would try at the beginning of the school year.
Aurelian rubbed his forehead, thinking.
"So much to do and so little time..."
A click announced Stinky's arrival, carrying a tray with fresh bread and steaming tea.
"My Lord," he said enthusiastically, "everything is ready for your departure. The mansion will be secure, Kravix will continue to watch over your affairs."
Aurelian nodded, without taking his eyes off the golden sphere on the table.
"Perfect. Thank you very much, Stinky."
He took a sip of tea, enjoying the moment.
"First, let's focus on Flamel... then I'll think about what to do with Nythoros."
The summer sun illuminated the gardens of Gaunt Manor, bathing the flowers and stone paths in golden hues. Aurelian stood among the rose bushes, accompanied by a small trunk containing everything he needed for the journey. In his hand was the golden sphere that Flamel had given him.
Stinky watched him from the entrance to the mansion's garden, nervous and proud at the same time.
"My Lord... have a safe journey," he said, bowing deeply.
Aurelian nodded briefly, keeping his eyes fixed on the sphere.
"The time has come."
When the clock struck the exact hour, the Portkey activated. A golden glow immediately enveloped him. Aurelian clutched the trunk to his chest and braced himself for the sudden jolt he was already accustomed to.
But that jolt never came.
Instead of the violent jolt and feeling of vertigo, he was enveloped by a gentle current, as if he were sliding down a slide. The magic transported him effortlessly, without the usual dizziness, and he almost forgot he was traveling.
A flash, a sigh of energy... and then his feet touched solid ground.
Aurelian blinked, surprised by the difference from his past journeys.
In front of him stood a distinctly French-style country house, surrounded by vineyards and well-tended gardens. The blue-painted shutters and climbing flowers adorning the facade gave it a cozy, homely feel. It was hard to imagine that this place belonged to the most famous alchemist of all time.
Aurelian smiled slightly, with a mixture of curiosity.
"So this is the old man's home."
The now dull Portkey crumbled into a pile of dust in his hand.
The path led him to the main entrance of the house. Before he could raise his hand to knock, the door opened with a soft creak.
A woman appeared in the doorway, her silver hair tied back in a simple bun, wearing a light linen dress and an apron embroidered with flowers. Her eyes sparkled with maternal warmth, and a sweet smile softened the wrinkles on her face.
"Oh, you're finally here!" she exclaimed in a melodious voice, full of tenderness. "You must be Aurelian."
The young man watched her silently for a few seconds, surprised by her welcome. He had expected some mystery or distance... not the warmth that emanated from the woman.
She extended her hands naturally, as if she had known him all her life.
"I am Perenelle Flamel. Come in, dear, come in. Don't stand at the door like a stranger."
Aurelian, somewhat bewildered, bowed his head politely.
"Of course... it's an honor to meet you."
Perenelle laughed softly, shaking her head.
"No honors or formalities with me, young man. You are a guest here, and I will treat you as if you were family."
She took him gently by the arm and led him inside. The house smelled of freshly baked bread and aromatic herbs, and antique paintings hung on the walls.
"You must be tired from your journey," she continued, leading him into a spacious room with comfortable armchairs. "Sit down for a moment. Nicolas is in the back garden, but he'll be here soon."
Aurelian obeyed, setting his trunk aside. His dark eyes scanned the room attentively, taking in every detail. There was a feeling of warmth in every corner, a stark contrast to the cold magnificence of Gaunt Manor.
Perenelle offered him a cup of tea, which appeared with a casual wave of her hand.
"You must forgive my husband, he sometimes gets too lost in his thoughts. But I'm sure he was eagerly awaiting your arrival."
Aurelian just nodded.
"So this is the other side of the legendary Flamel..." he thought, watching the old woman with a mixture of respect and caution.
He held the teacup with both hands, letting the heat slowly seep into his skin. The sweet herbal fragrance enveloped him, and the tension that accompanied it seemed to fade away.
Perenelle watched him from the armchair opposite, her expression serene, like someone contemplating something precious and fragile at the same time. Her eyes, though wrinkled by the passage of centuries, sparkled with a vitality that belied her seemingly fragile appearance.
"I'm so glad you're here," she said in a warm voice, as if speaking to a grandson she had waited too long to see. "Nicolas told me some things about you... but I really wanted to see you with my own eyes."
Aurelian raised an eyebrow, curious.
"What did your husband tell you about me?"
Perenelle laughed softly, waving her hand in a slight gesture.
"Oh, don't think he told me much. Nicolas enjoys his secrets. But when I saw him return after meeting you, his eyes had a sparkle I hadn't seen in him for years. It was the same sparkle he had when he taught that stubborn young man named Albus."
The name Dumbledore made Aurelian tilt his head thoughtfully.
"I don't know if I'll be as good a student as he was," he replied with a touch of irony.
Perenelle shook her head gently.
"You don't need to compare yourself to anyone, dear. We are all different, and that's okay."
A brief silence enveloped them. Aurelian, unaccustomed to such warmth, watched her silently. There was something about her that disarmed him, something he couldn't face with his usual words.
"You've had to carry a lot, too much for your age," she continued, lowering her voice. "I can see it in your eyes. And yet here you are, standing tall as an oak tree."
Aurelian let out a bitter laugh.
"Is that what my eyes say?"
"That and more," replied Perenelle, with a tender smile. "That's why, while you're in this house, I want you to allow yourself something you may have forgotten... I want you to feel like a child, at least for a while."
Aurelian blinked, surprised by her words.
"A child...?" he thought incredulously.
Before he could respond, Perenelle stood up, walked over to him, and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"No matter how great your power is, we all need a place where we can feel at peace. And here, I want you to have that."
Aurelian looked down at his teacup, somewhat embarrassed, not quite sure how to respond.
At that moment, the back door opened, letting in a breath of fresh air. The figure of Nicolas Flamel appeared in the doorway, his smile lighting up the room.
The back door closed with a soft click, and Nicolas Flamel appeared in the room. He was dressed in a light, almost simple tunic, but there was an aura about him that was impossible to ignore: a calmness that hid centuries of power and knowledge. His eyes rested on Aurelian with a smile that seemed to mix pride and amusement.
"I see you've already met my wife," he said in a calm voice.
"She's welcomed me better than I expected," Aurelian replied.
Perenelle laughed softly, patting him on the shoulder before retreating to the kitchen.
"I'll make sure you have something delicious waiting for you after your first session. And you, Nicolas, don't be so hard on him."
"I can't promise anything," replied the alchemist, although his smile widened.
Perenelle leaned toward Aurelian before leaving the room.
"Remember what I told you, dear. Here, you are not only a disciple, you are also part of this house."
Aurelian nodded silently, watching her disappear through a side archway.
Now, only Nicolas Flamel remained in front of him.
Flamel took a step forward, folding his hands behind his back.
"Well, Lord Gaunt..." he pronounced his title calmly, almost savoring the words. "The time has come to..." He paused.
The silence between them was absolute. In the fireplace, the embers seemed to crackle louder, as if the fire were responding to the latent tension.
"... do nothing, boy," he said with a big smile. "I know what you are capable of. I saw it with my own eyes. So for one week... there will be no training."
Aurelian looked at him in surprise, raising an eyebrow.
"A week of doing nothing?"
"Exactly," replied Flamel. "First, you will rest. You will get to know this house, the surroundings, and recover your energy. Because the real work will come later, and there will be no breaks once it begins."
The young man remained silent, accepting the decision with a slight nod of his head.
A few seconds of silence passed, until Flamel tilted his head slightly.
"Tell me, Aurelian... What drives you to be stronger? Why do you seek to exceed your limits?"
The boy's eyes sparkled, and for a moment he didn't know how to respond. Finally, he spoke coldly.
"Because I want to be the best."
Flamel listened attentively, his smile disappearing. His voice became more serious, more firm.
"That's a lie."
Aurelian opened his eyes and looked at him silently, with some discomfort.
Flamel held his gaze, not taking his eyes off him.
"Your ambition is real. But it's not what drives you."
Finally, Aurelian sighed and looked down for a moment before looking up again.
"All I want is to be free to do what I want. I want to protect what matters to me... and keep the people I love safe."
A genuine smile appeared on Flamel's lips.
"That answer... if it's true."
The air immediately became lighter, as if that answer had opened the right door.
"So, young man," Flamel continued, leaning back in his seat, "now I know where to start with you."
For a few seconds, his expression changed. He was no longer the calm and enigmatic teacher, but a man remembering distant times.
"You know, Aurelian," he began quietly, "when I started out, I wasn't so strong. Nor as sure of myself."
Aurelian watched him closely.
"I was a curious young man, with too many questions and too few answers. I stumbled over and over again, failing more than I succeeded. And many times..." He paused, smiling bitterly. "I thought I would never amount to anything."
The alchemist raised a finger, as if he could still see those days in the air.
"The power you see now, my confidence... none of that appeared overnight. I built it on mistakes, losses, and the willpower I learned to forge over the years."
Aurelian frowned slightly.
"What are you trying to tell me, sir?"
"What I want you to understand," Flamel said with a smile, "is that we all have doubts, young man. The difference is what you do with those doubts. I learned to use them as fuel, to let them push me to seek answers where no one had looked before."
He leaned forward slightly, looking him straight in the eye.
"It doesn't matter what others say about you, or what title you carry on your shoulders. What really matters is that you are clear about who you are... and why you do what you do."
"I suppose that's where my real training begins," Aurelian murmured.
Flamel smiled with satisfaction.
"Exactly."
The silence lingered for a few more seconds, until the creak of the side door broke the atmosphere that had been created.
Perenelle entered carrying a tray laden with plates, freshly baked bread, onion soup, and a roast chicken that filled the room with an irresistible aroma. Her sweet smile instantly softened the air left by the conversation.
"I think that's enough soul-searching for today," she said cheerfully, placing the tray on the table. "The boy needs to eat, Nicolas, not just philosophize."
Flamel laughed softly, leaning back in his seat.
"As always, you're right, my dear Perenelle."
The woman approached Aurelian with a motherly gesture and set a plate in front of him.
"I hope you like it. We cook simply here, but with love."
Aurelian, unaccustomed to such treatment, looked at her silently before nodding.
"It smells... excellent. Thank you very much," he said with a smile.
As he tasted the first bite, Perenelle watched him with a warm expression, like someone caring for their grandchild. Flamel, for his part, limited himself to drinking a little wine, with a smile that didn't quite reveal whether he was enjoying the banquet or the company more.
"This is how our first week will be," announced the alchemist after a moment of silence. "Rest, good food, and a little conversation. I want you to come to training with your mind and body in balance."
"I'll make the most of every moment," replied Aurelian calmly, as the warmth of the fire and the taste of the food enveloped him.
He felt he could let his guard down. Even if it was just for that night.
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