"Either witness the fall of a legend while two others rise, or see a legend fight back against you. Either way, I'm sure I won't lose out."
"I've seen everything in my life, except for witnessing the overwhelming and extraordinary power of a legend in person." Nicolas Flamel's words made Albus Dumbledore's expression quite exquisite.
"..."
The old headmaster had no idea how to respond.
They passed through the outer hall.
"Are you going on a long trip?"
Pernel Flamel looked at her husband in surprise.
"Going to Hogwarts. I'll take you there once I'm settled. There's a real show to watch. We might watch it to death, but it's certainly worth the ticket price."
Nicolas Flamel's words immediately made Pernel Flamel's murky eyes light up.
"?????"
Albus Dumbledore was extremely speechless. He wanted to curse but held back, feeling frustrated. He could only silently take the lead and carry Nicolas Flamel's suitcase out of the room.
"Worth the ticket price isn't too bad!"
No wonder they say birds of a feather flock together.
People from the same nest are alike.
Pernel Flamel wanted to ask about the show.
"Master, what about these two fashion show tickets?" The sudden appearance of a house-elf interrupted her, and the change in her facial expression was visibly noticeable.
"What fashion show! What nonsense have you picked up outside! I don't know! Don't accuse me!" Nicolas Flamel was instantly alarmed, chasing Albus Dumbledore out the door.
"Apparition! Quick! Quick, Apparition!"
At this moment, his legs didn't seem like those of an elderly, frail man over hundreds of years old.
"You should take some burritos to eat there!"
Pernel Flamel chased after him; she might have been delayed adding blades to the Mexican burrito, causing her to fall a step behind and unable to catch up with her husband.
...
Hogwarts Village.
Nicolas Flamel was brought here by Albus Dumbledore. Despite being a capable wizard, his dwindling magic power clearly couldn't support him independently crossing such a great distance.
"I want a big enough room."
Nicolas Flamel walked ahead.
Albus Dumbledore followed closely behind. On the bustling street, many wizards glanced at them, and some gasped upon seeing Nicolas Flamel.
This caused the pretty old and even older pair to quicken their pace. A gentle breeze blew through this secluded village as they passed beneath an ancient, weathered tree.
A fallen leaf on the ground was inadvertently lifted, and as Albus Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel walked by, it spun lightly in the air and drifted down onto the chessboard beneath the old tree.
Two middle-aged men were playing chess.
They were dressed simply, blending into the street inconspicuously.
"What's the meaning of your move?"
One of the middle-aged men slowly placed a piece, seemingly not just asking about the game on the board.
"You know, I'm doing what I should be doing, aren't I?" The other middle-aged man focused on the chess game, his voice devoid of any emotional fluctuation.
"But surely you've done more than just what you should be doing, right? I see it very clearly." The fair-haired middle-aged man's voice was gentle, and his gaze was directed at the person across from him.
"I am doing what I should be doing, but that doesn't mean I can't have other choices." The speaking middle-aged man's voice was deep, and his wind-swept hair looked rather artificially thick.
"Do you think looking at me will have a good result?" The fair-haired middle-aged man shook his head lightly, and a bronze-glossed ring on his finger, guiding the chess pieces, stood out prominently.
"I came later, and I must surpass you." The middle-aged man with thick hair spoke with strong confidence, moving his piece to capture the opponent's knight.
"Then I wish you good luck." The fair-haired middle-aged man was unperturbed, once again moving his piece and checkmating the opponent's king in just one move.
The game finished.
The fair-haired middle-aged man spread his hands under the frowning, silent expression of his opponent.
"I won! Pay up!"
The smile on the fair-haired middle-aged man's face was radiant.
"You cheated."
The middle-aged man with thick hair did not act; he seemed to be at a loss, but in reality... He was indeed not convinced. He felt that the game had been tampered with.
"Now this is cheating."
The fair-haired middle-aged man raised his hand and, with a squeeze into the void, took a Golden Galleon from the other's money bag. The middle-aged man from whom the coin was taken showed no surprise or alarm.
"Lucky for you that you're getting out."
The thick-haired middle-aged man sighed.
"Too bad the semester isn't over yet, but I stole my rightful reward, so it wasn't a loss." The fair-haired middle-aged man stood up and walked away.
The thick-haired middle-aged man watched him.
He faded into the crowd.
"I'll be back next year, of course, with a different identity."
A childish voice arose.
Amidst the throng.
A fair-haired little boy looked back at the ancient castle of Hogwarts. His gaze seemed to transcend the limitations of distance, reflecting in his eyes were little wizards in the castle struggling to tear open gift boxes.
"I can't open it!!"
Ian had been tinkering in the Room of Requirement for several hours.
"Dismembering Nimbus!"
"Shadowless Storm!"
"Damn! Avada Kedavra!"
A gift box from Santa Claus.
He blasted it into the sky.
And whipped it with Fiery Fire.
However.
The gift box remained unscathed.