Ding-a-ling~
Accompanied by the gentle sound of wind chimes, a sleepy boy in pyjamas shuffled out of his room.
Bright sunlight streamed through the window into the corridor. A broom was sweeping the floor by itself, while a mop twirled erratically behind it.
Picture frames were evenly spaced along the walls—some featured landscapes, others portraits. A feather duster floated in the air, dusting each frame with meticulous care.
"Ha~~~~"
After a long stretch, the boy finally blinked open his sleepy eyes, which glistened with tears of drowsiness. His eyes were peculiar—deep violet.
Purple eyes, symbolic of mystery and nobility, matched the boy's short, gleaming black hair—though at the moment, it looked more like a dishevelled bird's nest.
Scratching his head absentmindedly, he walked past the mop and broom and down the corridor.
Before long, he reached the kitchen.
The fire on the stove burned steadily, and a bubbling pot released an enticing aroma. A spoon was stirring its contents clockwise at a consistent speed, preventing anything from sticking to the bottom and burning.
A kettle sat beside it, whistling lightly.
He walked over and picked it up. A teacup on the nearby shelf sprang to life and gracefully landed on the table.
As the amber liquid streamed from the spout into the cup, the refreshing aroma of tea filled the kitchen, invigorating the boy.
Mid-pour, the tea turned milky white, releasing a gentle creamy scent.
By the time the kettle was empty, the ratio of tea to milk was precisely three to two.
Lifting the cup, the boy left the kitchen. He nodded politely to a moving portrait on the wall as he passed and stepped into the hall, where an elderly man with white hair was seated on the sofa.
If anyone from the magical world were present, they'd surely gasp—for the old man was none other than the legendary alchemist, Nicolas Flamel.
"Oh, Remi, you're up. What are your thoughts on what we discussed yesterday?" Flamel asked warmly, folding up his newspaper and gesturing for the boy—Remi—to sit.
Remi sat down beside him and opened a small wooden box on the table. From within, he took out a translucent grey cube the size of a sugar cube and dropped it into his cup.
The cube dissolved instantly.
After taking a sip, Remi looked noticeably more alert.
"Master, I still want to return to England to study," Remi said.
"Are you certain you won't reconsider?" Flamel replied. "Beauxbatons Academy of Magic has far more female students than Hogwarts—and much prettier ones too!"
Remi rolled his eyes. "Do I seem like that kind of shallow person?"
"Fair enough… But Hogwarts is a British school, and you know they mostly serve that food you hate. Meanwhile, Beauxbatons serves fine French cuisine—your favourite!"
Remi shook his head as he sipped his tea. "Correction: I can't stand French food. My favourite is traditional British cuisine."
"Oh? You've never mentioned that before... Shall we have shepherd's pie for supper, then? Maybe even a sticky toffee pudding if we're lucky." Flamel chuckled.
At the mention of food, Remi's stomach lurched as if stirred by some internal rebellion.
"No need to go to any trouble. I'm really not in the mood," Remi replied, grimacing.
"Is that so?" Flamel smiled and handed him the newspaper. "You're returning to Hogwarts for him, aren't you?"
Remi glanced at the front page. The headline screamed: Shock! The Boy Who Lived to Attend Hogwarts This Year!
Remi: ...
What sort of tabloid nonsense was this?
Oh, The Daily Prophet. Right. Maybe it was just his lack of magical media literacy showing.
"Partially, perhaps. But mainly, I want to learn magic from Professor Dumbledore. He's the greatest wizard of the century. I've been here for two years and you still haven't taught me any real magic," Remi said accusingly.
"You don't even have a wand! How am I supposed to teach you without one?"
"You're a famous alchemist! Just teach me the way of wandless magic, and I'll leave the rest to miracles."
Flamel shook his head and took a slow sip of his coffee.
"You'll be getting your wand soon enough. Then, naturally, you'll begin learning magic."
He rose and headed for the kitchen, leaving Remi alone in the living room.
Remi took another sip of tea and picked up the newspaper, his mind racing as he scanned the article about the Boy Who Lived.
As a time traveller, now living in the magical world of Harry Potter, should he focus on Harry… or maybe seek out Voldemort?
Even if he chose Voldemort, Voldemort was in England—not France!
Besides, Remi had already heard from Flamel that Beauxbatons had an infamously strict management style. It sounded less like a school and more like a magical prison. No, thank you.
After a while, Nicolas Flamel called Remi to the dining room.
Remi had lived here ever since being taken in as Flamel's apprentice two years ago. The old man treated him like a grandson, teaching him the basics of the magical world and sharing intriguing alchemical anecdotes.
Yet Flamel had never taught him any spells, nor any actual alchemical formulas—not even theory.
According to Flamel, Remi was still young and shouldn't waste his prime years on dull study.
What's more, Remi was a natural alchemical talent. Even without formal training or recipes, he could create the items he desired—so long as he paid the price.
The essence of alchemy, after all, was equivalent exchange.
Today, Flamel had prepared a lavish spread, as though he already knew Remi had chosen to leave.
The dishes were part of a proper British feast—colourful, aromatic, delicious, and presented beautifully.
Even the best Muggle chefs couldn't have prepared so many dishes in such a short time. But this was the magical world—logic had no place here.
"By the way, Remi, how's the magical homunculus? Are you sure it hasn't developed a mind of its own?" Flamel asked suddenly.
"It's stable, Master. No need to worry," Remi assured him.
"How can I not worry? This sort of thing's never been done before," Flamel sighed. "Once you're at Hogwarts, speak to Dumbledore about it. His magical insight surpasses mine."
Remi hesitated, then nodded silently and resumed eating.
End of the Chapter.