Inside Nicolas' workshop, Lucien was refining a magical puppet under the guidance of the legendary alchemist.
"Here, remove one loop of the energy-gathering rune and replace it with one-and-a-half loops of a magic-conducting rune. Then craft the component with high-purity mithril…" Nicolas advised.
Lucien quickly grasped the suggestion and put it into action. "So, at the end of the transmission, where the magic conduits are finer, should I reduce the rune layering and adjust the material properties…?"
Nicolas nodded, clearly pleased with Lucien's ability to extrapolate and think creatively. This wasn't rote learning; Lucien was actively engaging, weaving his own ideas into the process. "Very good, Lucien. Your learning speed is remarkable. What alchemy books have you read so far?"
"There aren't many alchemy books on the market, so I've mostly read what's in the Hogwarts library. Introduction to Alchemy, Principles of Material Transmutation, The Magic of Equivalent Exchange…" Lucien listed over twenty titles. Alchemy hadn't been his main focus last year, so his reading in the field was relatively light.
"Building a solid foundation is the right move. I bet most of those were recommended by Albus, right?" Nicolas asked.
Lucien nodded. "Yes."
Nicolas gestured for Lucien to set the puppet aside and spoke a single, strange word. Its pronunciation was so obscure and archaic that Lucien couldn't quite make it out. As soon as Nicolas finished, glowing runes lit up on the floor beneath them, and a surge of magical light enveloped them both.
When the light faded, the scene had changed. The magical spacesuit-like setting was gone, replaced by towering bookshelves packed with books, some ancient, others brand-new.
Teleportation magic?
The runes had formed a magic circle, faster and smoother than Floo Powder. Another ancient spell? Lucien marveled. Nicolas, a wizard who was practically history incarnate, wielded a vast, awe-inspiring breadth of knowledge.
"Want to learn it? That teleportation array?" Nicolas asked.
"Absolutely!" Lucien replied without hesitation, his thirst for knowledge undisguised.
Nicolas smiled, appreciating Lucien's passion. Unlike many gifted kids his age who grew cocky or lazy, Lucien's drive to learn was rare and refreshing. With a wave of his hand, a beautifully bound book floated from a shelf to his side.
Lucien gazed at the sprawling library, a sea of books that dwarfed even Hogwarts' collection. No surprise there, he thought. Only someone who's lived centuries could amass this.
Nicolas let the book hover in front of Lucien. "This is written in ancient Hebrew. Start with this. It's the foundation for learning that teleportation array and the script used in many ancient alchemical texts."
Lucien took the book, thanking him. It might've been a casual pick from Nicolas' collection, but it was undoubtedly a rare gem.
Alchemy was a tough field to break into. It demanded resources—basically, a lot of money—so some wizards didn't even start until adulthood. Another hurdle was the texts. Alchemy's scarcity meant fewer practitioners and less传承, often tracing back to ancient times. The scripts used were ancient runes, and modern languages often failed to capture the nuances of those magics.
Nicolas conjured a blackboard and desk, diving into an alchemy lesson right there, filling in Lucien's knowledge gaps and reinforcing his foundation. Whenever a specific text was needed, Nicolas summoned it from the shelves.
Lucien soaked it all up like a sponge, fully immersed. A chance to learn from a legendary alchemist didn't come often. Despite his six centuries, Nicolas' teaching style was far from stuffy. He wove in references and explained complex ideas in a clear, engaging way.
As he taught, Nicolas grew more impressed with Lucien. It had been ages since he'd taught anyone like this—probably over a century. Lucien's alchemical talent was undeniable, a true genius. But what thrilled Nicolas even more was Lucien's excellence in other areas. Alchemy touched multiple magical disciplines, and pursuing its highest levels required exceptional aptitude—a barrier most couldn't cross.
Nicolas had been ready to tutor Lucien in charms or potions if needed, but he quickly realized that was unnecessary. Lucien was already well ahead.
Lucien settled into life at Nicolas' place, his days falling into a rhythm: mornings spent writing his Transfiguration paper or tinkering with alchemical tools and potions, afternoons studying alchemy with Nicolas, and evenings either working or relaxing with Nicolas and Perenelle, watching operas or other leisurely pursuits.
The fuller his days, the faster time flew. Before he knew it, Lucien had been there for over two weeks.
One day, he and Nicolas were playing a game of wizard's chess.
"Beauxbatons starts alchemy classes in third year? That early?" Lucien asked. Beauxbatons, France's premier magical school, was on par with Hogwarts and Durmstrang as one of Europe's top three. Nicolas had just mentioned that their third-years took alchemy as a mandatory course, no special prerequisites needed until the upper years.
At Hogwarts, alchemy was an elective only offered in sixth year, and only to students with high enough grades. Some years, if too few students qualified or showed interest, the class wouldn't even run.
Nicolas frowned at the chessboard, deep in thought. "Yes, I've funded Beauxbatons and provided some guidance in alchemy, so they've been able to make it more accessible. The real barriers to mastery are still high, though."
It made sense to Lucien. With Nicolas Flamel's backing, Beauxbatons likely had the best alchemy program in the world.
"So, Lucien, how about transferring to Beauxbatons? Their alchemy classes outshine Hogwarts', and…" Nicolas glanced at Lucien, then at the board, wondering if he could sneak a pawn out of play. "They've got plenty of pretty girls. I built a beauty fountain there—works wonders. You'd have quite the view, heh. And who knows, a good-looking kid like you wouldn't be short on admirers. Speaking of, got a girlfriend at Hogwarts yet?"
After spending time with Nicolas, Lucien had loosened up, learning the old man occasionally acted "less than dignified" to, as he put it, keep his spirit young and avoid being weighed down by age. "Hogwarts has a great vibe, and I'm at the age to focus on learning. Oh, that beauty fountain—what's the principle behind it?"
Seeing Lucien stay focused on the game, undistracted, Nicolas pouted slightly. "Finish this match, and I'll teach you tomorrow." He paused, then added casually, "By the way, Lucien, would you like to be my student?"
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(Tacked on here, sorry! Got caught up, so this is late! (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄))
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"Would you like to be my student?"
Lucien, seated across the chessboard, froze, looking up in shock.
Nicolas' tone was light, as if he were asking what Lucien wanted for dinner, but his deep, weathered eyes were deadly serious.
Be Nicolas' student? Learn from a living legend, a wizard who'd lived six centuries, the pinnacle of alchemy? Lucien's mind raced, his usually steady composure shaken.
Noticing Lucien's stunned expression, Nicolas smiled gently. "No need to be nervous. It's just a teacher-student thing, not some old-school master-apprentice vow. I can see you're hungry to learn all sorts of things, Lucien, not just alchemy. I only…" He trailed off, his gaze turning wistful. "I only want to pass on what I know."
Over these past days, Nicolas had been thinking a lot. He was planning to venture into what Muggles called "space," to see the moon up close. But one thing nagged at him: his alchemical knowledge. Over centuries, he'd had children, descendants, and students, but alchemy demanded such rare talent that none could carry his full legacy. The path to its peak was brutally unforgiving.
He'd nearly given up, ready to focus on his lunar trip and leave worldly matters behind. Then came the "surprise"—Lucien. The boy's talent was staggering, and their time together showed Nicolas his character, too. The more he saw, the more he approved, seeing in Lucien the hope of passing down his mantle.
Nicolas was grateful for Dumbledore and Newt's letters recommending this boy, and for the spark of curiosity that led him to meet Lucien. His eyes held a mix of hope and nervousness. He was confident he could be the world's best alchemy mentor, with unmatched resources and guidance. He also knew Lucien's thirst for knowledge made it unlikely he'd refuse.
Still, Nicolas wasn't entirely sure.
Lucien, meanwhile, was reeling. He hadn't expected Nicolas to formally take him as a student. He'd already been learning from him, but an official teacher-student bond meant access to so much more. In alchemy, Nicolas was the peak, the known end of the road. No matter Lucien's talent, a mentor was crucial in a field this demanding—resources, aptitude, and legacy all mattered. Without a guide, you'd stumble down endless dead ends.
There was no question about his choice.
"It's my honor," Lucien said. "Teacher."
Hearing that word, Nicolas visibly relaxed, a wave of relief washing over him. "Good, good, good! Let's finish this game and get some dinner."
He felt a deep satisfaction, thinking he might delay his moon trip to focus on teaching Lucien. Time wasn't an issue for him, after all. As his student, Lucien would get everything Nicolas had to offer: the secrets of the Philosopher's Stone, the Elixir of Life, lost ancient magics…
Lucien glanced back at the chessboard, ready to resume. Wait a second… The pieces didn't look right. Wasn't the board different before?
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"Madam Maxime, are you sure this is okay?" a slender, strikingly beautiful girl with golden hair asked nervously. Her beauty was almost otherworldly, and a faint silver glow seemed to radiate from her.
"You've met Mr. Flamel before, Fleur, and you left a good impression," said the towering woman beside her. Olympe Maxime, Beauxbatons' headmistress, was so tall that even the statuesque Fleur looked like a doll next to her.
Seeing Fleur's nerves, Maxime reassured her, "You have a strong chance. You're the most gifted alchemist Beauxbatons has seen in a century. Just show Mr. Flamel your best."
Maxime didn't voice her deeper concern, not wanting to shake Fleur's confidence. Even if Fleur didn't become Nicolas' formal student, a named disciple would still be a coveted honor. Every wizard Nicolas taught became a legend in their own right. And opportunities like this might not come again.
Maxime looked up at the silver ship vanishing into the clouds, marveling at Nicolas Flamel's wild imagination. A beam of light enveloped her and Fleur, gently lifting them into the ship.
As they boarded, they saw Nicolas with a young boy, patting his shoulder warmly. Sensing their arrival, the boy turned, his emerald-green eyes meeting theirs briefly before he was teleported away.
Fleur felt a flicker of curiosity about him but followed Maxime, greeting Nicolas politely.
After exchanging pleasantries, Maxime asked casually, "Mr. Flamel, who was that boy just now?"
Nicolas smiled. "That was my student. My final student."