Saviour of Magic

Meeting the Mentor

"It's my dream project," said Daphne softly. "It's called an Asthron. I'll tell you more about it once I get my basic Arithmancy equations out of the way."

Harry's eyes widened marginally. The Sorcerer's degree was all about research and innovation. He couldn't believe that Daphne had already started on her project, while he was yet to even develop an idea.

"A little competitive, are we?" teased Daphne.

A hint of a fond smile formed on his lips. "Don't ask questions that you know I wouldn't answer," he shot back. Cupping her face, he gently kissed her forehead. "I'll be back before dinner."

"Good luck," she whispered, kissing him softly on the lips. Daphne watched her husband leave and then she dove into her project. She focussed on the simulation of what the Asthron would accomplish. She snapped her fingers. A jet of red light shot out of the tip of the pyramid-shaped device. She nodded in satisfaction.

Now all she had to do was construct the Asthron and make it a reality. Taking a deep breath, she began writing on the computer screen with her quill. Daphne was soon lost to the world, her mind buzzing with mathematical equations and magical constructs.

HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP

The Portkey he had been given activated.

When his feet touched the ground, Harry saw that he was in front of a medium-sized cottage situated on the outskirts of Inbu-Hedj, right on the banks of the Nile river. Moving forward with confident strides, he entered the property. He felt the wards tingling around him and knew that the inhabitants of the cottage were alerted to his presence. He was proven right when just a second later, the protective enchantments gave him access to the front door.

The door opened and Harry slowly walked into the house. A house-elf showed him the way to the living room. Sitting in an armchair by the window was the alchemist that very, very few in the world had the fortune of meeting.

Harry blinked in surprise. Whatever preconceived notions he had about Nicolas Flamel were destroyed when he saw the wizard. The ancient alchemist was about five feet in height. He did not look like he was nearly seven hundred years old. He had grey hair but looked like a ninety-year-old man. In other words, middle-aged. His skin tone was dark and his eyes were shining brightly. Harry couldn't put a finger on it, but there was something strange about the old wizard. The aura that Harry usually sensed from every witch and wizard did not match with Nicolas Flamel. It was as if he were –

"Harry Potter," smiled Nicolas Flamel, interrupting Harry's train of thought. "Welcome to Inbu-Hedj."

"It's an honour to meet someone of your calibre and reputation, Master Flamel," said Harry, bowing as per the traditional wizarding custom. "Thank you for accepting me as your apprentice."

Nicolas chuckled. "Which teacher would like to decline the chance to train intelligent students? I'm no exception, young man. Please, take a seat."

The young wizard sat down opposite to his mentor. A kettle automatically levitated itself in front of him and poured tea for them both. The cup and saucer made its way to Harry who accepted it, nodding to Nicolas in thanks.

"You are a strange boy, Harry Potter," said Nicolas after a pause. "I have kept an eye on your movements for a long time now, ever since you re-entered the magical world. Tell me, in your first year at Hogwarts, what made you think that my former apprentice Albus Dumbledore had not, in fact, been hiding the Philosopher's stone at the school?"

The Boy-Who-Lived smiled faintly. "The stone is your very source of survival, Master Flamel –"

"Nicolas, please."