"Nicolas, you mean that Mr. Antonius might be wandering between the world of the living and the realm of the dead? That his obsession causes him to manifest at fixed times each week, then disappear from the world of the living entirely?"
Nodding slowly, Nicolas Flamel said, "Precisely. However, these are merely my educated guesses based on our correspondence and certain... patterns I've observed. I cannot be completely certain unless we conduct a detailed examination of his spectral form."
"And if Mr. Antonius truly is in such a state?" Dumbledore asked quietly.
"Then he likely won't be able to remain in the world of the living much longer." Nicolas's ancient face grew solemn. "Dumbledore, you understand better than most that ghosts cannot exist indefinitely. They will eventually fade and pass into the realm of death, no matter how powerful their attachment to the living world."
He gestured vaguely toward the castle around them. "Even the ghosts of your four House founders—sustained by the residual magic of those four great masters themselves—can only persist at Hogwarts for an exceptionally long time. Eventually, even they will slowly diminish and transition to the world beyond. This Mr. Antonius has already existed for an extraordinarily long period. I'm afraid he doesn't have much time remaining in the world of the living."
"If that's truly the case," Dumbledore said softly, "then it's a profound loss for the magical world."
"Nothing in this world lasts forever, Albus." Nicolas's voice carried the weight of his six centuries. "Not even the Philosopher's Stone itself."
At this sobering observation, both Nicolas Flamel and Dumbledore fell into contemplative silence, simultaneously reaching for their teacups and sipping the hot black tea that steamed gently in the quiet office.
They weren't the only ones drinking tea at that moment. The Editor-in-Chief of The Golden Crucible was also partaking, seated in his London office.
He calmly and methodically opened the manuscript his senior editor had delivered that morning with such urgency.
This was the second phase of Sean Bulstrode's revolutionary modification of the Wolfsbane Potion formula, comprehensively listing alternative ingredient substitutions with extensive experimental validation. Due to the sheer volume of documented research and supporting data, the paper was extraordinarily lengthy. The Editor-in-Chief spent a full hour carefully reading and analyzing the contents before finally setting it down with a long, impressed exhalation.
"A genuine prodigy in Potions," he murmured. "This boy has an exceptionally high probability of winning the Golden Crucible Award when it's next presented."
Hearing this assessment, the senior editor appeared somewhat surprised. "Editor-in-Chief, while this paper certainly carries tremendous practical significance, can it truly be considered sufficiently innovative content for such a prestigious honor?"
"Not innovative?" The Editor-in-Chief's eyebrows rose sharply. "Who claimed that? Take out both the original Wolfsbane Potion formula and this revised version. Examine how fundamentally different they are in approach and accessibility."
The editor paused thoughtfully, reconsidering the paper's implications, then slowly nodded with growing understanding. "If we frame it in those terms, then there really isn't much question about its merit. The award ceremony should be held this coming July, correct? I wonder if we'll have the opportunity to meet Master Sean Bulstrode in person at that time."
Within the current editorial department of The Golden Crucible, Sean had already been internally classified as a Potions Master despite his age. After all, his research had unquestionably reached that level of sophistication and impact. His chronological age, in their professional estimation, was merely a biographical detail—it proved nothing about his actual capabilities.
"Master Bulstrode's two papers are executed flawlessly," the Editor-in-Chief continued, "and the experimental data supporting his conclusions is impeccable. However, there remains one critical element: the fusion agent mentioned throughout both papers. Only if this particular compound can be successfully produced and validated can the contents of both papers truly integrate seamlessly, allowing the new Wolfsbane Potion formula to reach completion. Otherwise, the practical influence of his work, however brilliant theoretically, still cannot match the immediate applicability of the original Wolfsbane Potion."
Sean's research on the revolutionary Wolfsbane Potion was divided into three distinct stages, with the final and most crucial third stage being the development of the fusion agent compound.
However, unlike the concerns expressed by the Editor-in-Chief and others at The Golden Crucible editorial offices, Sean himself was not particularly worried about the fusion agent's viability. In fact, when he'd submitted the second-stage paper for publication, his experiments on the fusion agent were already more than halfway completed. Only final adjustments and refinements were needed before the fusion agent's development could be officially concluded.
"Professor," Sean said earnestly, meeting Snape's dark eyes across his desk, "what do you think of my proposal?"
Snape regarded Sean carefully, his brow furrowing slightly in consideration. "Hogwarts certainly has numerous empty classrooms and unused chambers available. However, obtaining approval for the substantial expenses required to establish a proper research laboratory would be... challenging. We're discussing a considerable sum of money."
"Professor, what if I personally funded the entire project?" Sean leaned forward. "After I eventually leave Hogwarts, I would donate the completed laboratory to the school for use by future Potions professors and advanced students. What would you think of such an arrangement?"
One eyebrow arching sharply, Snape studied Sean with renewed interest. He'd almost forgotten that Sean had published a groundbreaking paper on improved mental restoration potions and held the patent for that formula—the boy was now independently wealthy by any reasonable standard.
"If those are indeed the terms," Snape said slowly, "then I believe Hogwarts should have no reasonable grounds to refuse such a generous offer." He paused, his expression unreadable. "I'll discuss this matter with the Headmaster as soon as possible. We should have definitive progress within one week."
"Thank you very much, Professor." Sean rose from his chair. "If there's nothing else requiring my attention, I'll take my leave."
"Mm."
Snape was well aware it was Saturday—Sean's scheduled alchemy instruction time.
Moreover, Snape had heard that Nicolas Flamel himself was planning to observe Sean's lesson with his mysterious ghost teacher today. Snape remained utterly noncommittal about this development. How could some phantom who only manifested twice weekly for two hours possibly compete with his own influence over the boy? Snape maintained absolute confidence in his ability to mentor and guide talented students effectively.
Sean proceeded directly to the Headmaster's office. Today was the arranged meeting between Nicolas Flamel and Mr. Antonius. Dumbledore had deliberately chosen not to involve himself in their initial interaction, so Sean would escort Nicolas Flamel to the meeting location—the empty third-floor classroom where Sean typically received his alchemy instruction.
When Sean provided the password and entered the Headmaster's office, Nicolas Flamel—who had stayed overnight at Hogwarts as Dumbledore's guest—was already waiting. The ancient alchemist looked at Sean and smiled warmly. "You're somewhat younger than I'd anticipated, though that's entirely understandable. You're only a third-year student currently. Being young is perfectly normal."
"Professor Dumbledore, Mr. Flamel," Sean bowed respectfully to each in turn, then turned to the peculiar young woman standing motionless beside the wheelchair. "And... madam."
Dumbledore smiled gently and nodded at Sean's proper courtesy. He wasn't the primary participant in today's meeting, so he remained largely silent.
Nicolas Flamel, however, regarded Sean with the respectful interest one master craftsman shows a promising apprentice. "Her name is Lisa. She's an alchemical homunculus I created many years ago. Unfortunately, I've never achieved the necessary breakthroughs in this particular field of research, so Lisa has never developed independent life or true consciousness. Therefore, she cannot respond to your greeting or answer any questions you might have."
An alchemical homunculus?
Alchemy could create such things?
Mr. Antonius's teaching methodology emphasized careful, gradual progression through foundational concepts. He rarely discussed advanced topics Sean hadn't yet mastered through preliminary study. Therefore, this was Sean's first exposure to the concept of alchemical homunculi, and he found himself intensely curious, examining Lisa with unconcealed fascination.