Edmund Grindelwald followed the ghost deeper inside.
As they walked, the spectral Grand Elder asked casually, "The one you wish to save—male or female?"
"A sixteen-year-old girl."
"Oh ho ho," the old ghost chuckled. "Now that is a story I like. I once saved a man… and afterward, he despised my appearance. So tell me—are you certain you still wish to save her? The ending may not be a happy one."
Edmund shook his head and said nothing.
Seeing his silence, the Grand Elder asked no more and simply continued leading the way.
One man, one ghost, returning to the crystal-and-coral-filled cavern from before.
"Touch the largest crystal, child," the Grand Elder instructed. "Pour your magic into it."
Edmund did as told.
A blazing light erupted from the crystal. A massive slab of stone on the side wall vanished soundlessly, revealing a hidden passage.
"Come, come," the Veela elder said with barely concealed excitement. "Let us see what fate has prepared."
Beyond the passage stood a stone altar.
Strange runes covered its surface, glowing softly in a deep sea-blue hue—symbols Edmund had never seen before.
"Step onto it, child," the Grand Elder said. "This is one of the greatest secrets of our ancestral land—the altar that petitions the Panacea of All Spirits."
She laughed, pride thick in her voice. "For centuries, wizards believed themselves superior. But in ancient times, this world was not ruled by wizards. Look at this altar—what wizard could create such a thing? Not even Nicolas Flamel."
After savoring her boast, she continued, "The Panacea does not heal in the conventional sense. Instead, it erases the very concept of 'negative states' at the level of rules. Illness, curses—none can resist it."
"Because it touches the laws of the world, the requirements are severe."
"First, you must love the one you wish to save. That is non-negotiable. Second—you must pay a price."
Edmund stood before the altar, deep in thought.
Hydrus… did he love her?
He asked himself honestly—and couldn't quite answer.
More often than not, he felt he was like Rick: after five years together, he had simply come to see Hydrus as a younger sister.
But love between siblings was still love, wasn't it?
If that was the case… then yes. He loved her.
As for the price—
"Madam," Edmund asked quietly, "will the price be my life?"
"No," the Grand Elder replied. "This altar has never taken a life."
Good. Not his life.
Edmund exhaled in relief. As long as he lived—long enough to see wizards casting magic freely in the streets—then any price was acceptable.
And Hydrus was the one his great-uncle had foretold would change the wizarding world. She could not be lost.
A price like this? What was there to fear?
Edmund nodded, steeled himself, and stepped onto the altar.
Astre Manor.
Nicolas Flamel examined Hydrus with painstaking care.
"Very bad," the ancient alchemist murmured, shaking his head weakly. "Her condition is extremely poor. Her body has fused with magic to a degree I've never seen."
He drew the Philosopher's Stone from his robes.
"If magic cannot circulate smoothly within her, her body will collapse."
The crimson stone burst into radiant light.
"I can use the Stone to sustain her body—for now, to keep her alive."
He paused.
"As for whether she can be saved… that will be up to fate."
Grindelwald's expression hardened. "Is there no alchemical device that can draw the Mantori metal powder out of her body?"
Flamel shook his head. "Mantori metal inherently suppresses magic. No alchemical creation can escape its reliance on magic, no matter how miraculous. This metal was forged by ancient wizards to resist beings beyond them. Only true ancient magic can command it."
Dumbledore sighed heavily.
Where were they supposed to find a wizard who wielded true ancient magic?
Barty Crouch… how could you dare use Mantori metal powder?
Its intended use was to alloy it with ordinary metals to create shackles—tools to restrain dangerous wizarding criminals.
But the powdered form had always been controversial. It was simply too cruel.
Once, an Auror had used it during an arrest—only for the wizard to later be proven innocent. The resulting lawsuit ruined that Auror completely.
After several similar incidents, the Ministry had banned it outright.
Even during the war against Voldemort, they had rarely dared use it, fearing friendly casualties.
What would Hydrus do to Barty Crouch once she woke up?
"Look!" Grindelwald suddenly exclaimed. "Her body's reacting!"
Hydrus began to glow with the same red light as the Philosopher's Stone, rising and falling in perfect rhythm.
Inhale. Exhale. Brighten. Fade.
"Incredible… absolutely incredible!" Flamel stared, eyes wide. "Her body isn't reacting—it's resonating with the Stone! This has never been recorded!"
He released the Philosopher's Stone.
Freed, it floated above Hydrus's forehead. A beam of crimson light sank into her brow.
Under that glow, her muscles rippled, as if her body were shedding a cocoon—poised on the brink of transformation.
Three of the greatest wizards alive stood around her, waiting in silence.
"Her breathing has stabilized!"
"Her color's returning!"
"How is this possible?"
"This is astonishing!"
"Ah… magic," Flamel breathed. "Enchanting, mysterious magic."
"We thought we understood it," Dumbledore said softly. "But we were wrong."
Hydrus opened her eyes.
She stared curiously at the floating Philosopher's Stone.
A sharp pain flared in her fingertip. She frowned and sat up.
Only then did she notice the three titans surrounding her.
"Ah—Professors, and… sir," she said sheepishly. "Before we talk, I need to deal with something."
She raised her left hand. At the tip of her ring finger was a small bulge.
That was the source of the pain.
There was something inside.
She picked up the wand by her bed.
"Diffindo."
With precise control, the cutting charm split the skin. Blood welled up.
Ignoring it, she pressed hard—and forced out a grain-sized fragment of metal.
"Magnificent!" Flamel exclaimed. "That's Mantori metal! How did this child manage such a thing?"
Hydrus examined the speck.
So this is what nearly killed me…
To expel it, aided by the Philosopher's Stone, she had carved an entirely new magical circuit within her body.
The pain had been unbearable.
But the result was extraordinary.
That new circuit felt both internal and intangible—existing within her, yet also somewhere beyond.
"Hydrus," Dumbledore said, "allow me to introduce Nicolas Flamel, the great alchemist."
"An honor, Mr. Flamel," Hydrus said politely, stepping off the bed and bowing. "So this red stone is the Philosopher's Stone? Truly a masterpiece."
She picked it up. "But… what is this light? Is it magic flowing within?"
"Light?" Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and Flamel exchanged confused looks. "The Stone isn't glowing."
Hydrus traced her finger along the surface in a strange pattern.
"There—this light."
Dumbledore and Grindelwald were baffled.
Flamel, however, froze.
"The path your finger followed—that's the final runic structure I engraved when the Stone was completed. Those runes should be inseparable from it. No one should be able to perceive them."
Hydrus returned the Stone and looked toward a half-empty bottle of expensive sherry on the table—an artifact said to have been crafted with ancient alchemy.
Faint blue-green light curled across its surface.
She understood.
These were echoes.
Echoes left behind by ancient magic.
Hydrus sighed.
Her late enrollment at sixteen had once been just a coincidence.
But now—she could truly see ancient magic's echoes.
And Hogwarts itself was steeped in them.
She shuddered at the thought of entering the castle, seeing those echoes everywhere.
Would it drive her mad?
The birth of her second magical circuit had bound her fate tightly to ancient magic.
As if this were destiny.
Hydrus wanted to cry.
Don't give me ridiculous responsibilities like this.
She didn't want to be a chosen guardian.
She just wanted a quiet, lazy life.