Compared to the previous semester,
Nicolas Flamel's office has undergone many changes.
The room is filled with soft, warm light emanating from chandeliers embedded with glowing gemstones on the ceiling. They illuminate the entire space without being glaring, yet skillfully retain a sense of mystery. The walls are adorned with various alchemical manuscripts, ancient maps, and scrolls depicting strange symbols.
In the center of the room stands a gigantic oak desk, with several open books scattered across its surface. Among the pages are dried plant specimens and fragments of stones emitting a peculiar glow.
On the desk sits a set of exquisite alchemical tools, including a silver crucible, a delicate test tube rack, and various flasks and mortars, some worn, some new, hinting at Nicolas Flamel's recent research. Unfortunately, Ian couldn't comprehend this content.
Despite his already advanced alchemy skills, there's still a considerable gap between him and Nicolas Flamel.
"Professor Nicolas Flamel said you are his most outstanding student." Harry Potter, after closing the door, followed Ian back to the center of the office.
His tone carried a hint of curiosity.
"Not too bad, I have a bit of talent in alchemy." Ian didn't take the chance to boast, as his attention was already drawn to another object in the office.
The sight was of a massive instrument standing there.
The dial, lacking pointers, was clearly and brightly marked with various incomprehensible scales.
This was, of course, the clock Ian had once brought back from the Misty Illusion Realm to the real world. It now appeared much newer, perhaps because Nicolas Flamel had spent the entire summer researching how to repair it.
It's just not known how far the repair progress has gone.
"Do you know what this is?" Harry Potter noticed Ian's gaze, having been curious about this large clock occupying much space for a while.
"If I'm not mistaken, it's a clock." Ian's response was no different from not answering; most people could tell what this thing was.
Even if Harry Potter had severe nearsightedness, he wasn't blind to the point of being unable to recognize basic things, despite his past living with his aunt not affecting his fundamental perception.
"I meant to ask, do you know what it's for?" Harry Potter didn't retort Ian's answer but chose to reflect and correct his previous wording.
He apparently thought the little wizard misunderstood his question—this benevolent characteristic of Harry's came through, as he preferred to believe his expression was unclear rather than that Ian was being insincere.
"As you see, a clock, it's used for..." Ian was about to spout some nonsensical literature but, driven by intense curiosity, couldn't resist his urge.
While speaking, he reached out to touch the Big Ben, and this impulsive act stopped him from teasing Harry Potter.
No choice.
It wasn't Ian's intention to stop.
But he had no choice.
Even though he didn't feel as if someone had gripped his throat, he encountered an unexpected situation—standing before the ancient and mysterious clock, his magic power surged uncontrollably as if summoned by an unseen force, pouring into the massive, archaic clock without warning.
"What's happening?"
As Ian's magic power was absorbed, the surface of the clock abruptly radiated with dazzling light from runes, reminiscent of the brightest stars in the night sky. A warm and intense light immediately enveloped Ian.
In that instant, his world seemed isolated; he felt himself plunged into a new dimension, everything around him undergoing an indescribable, fundamental transformation.
Even Harry Potter, who had been nearby, vanished from his sight, everything surrounding was so chaotic, slightly akin to what Ian experienced during the Mysterious Night.
Of course.
There were differences.
Though these differences were barely noticeable.
Ian couldn't describe the experience adequately.
He only knitted his brows.
"Am I being drawn into the Misty Illusion Realm?" The little wizard, sensing his magic power being pulled, started attempting to control it, trying to prevent it from flowing into the clock.
How should I say it?
Perhaps his control over his magic power was indeed strong enough, or maybe the clock had received all the magic power it needed, so he slowly regained control over it.
"Whew~"
The little wizard breathed a slight sigh of relief.
In his perception,
the magic power fluctuation on the Big Ben began to diminish.
As the brilliant runes slowly dimmed, the anomalies around him also started to fade, and the lights and energy enveloping Ian dispersed gradually.
"The activeness of the magic power drained me a lot; I estimate that continuously casting Avada Plague for an hour wouldn't consume this much." Ian held his somewhat dizzy head.
He was somewhat relieved his magic power wasn't entirely depleted, yet annoyed at himself for impulsively touching an alchemical creation still in repair.
"Harry?"
As everything around became clear, Ian was about to discuss covering up the incident with Harry, only to find the Savior's figure nowhere in sight.
Not just Harry Potter.
Even the entire office seemed to have undergone a complete transformation.
"What the heck!" Ian was surprised to find himself no longer in the original place but in an alchemy classroom filled with mysterious and fantastical colors.
The alchemy classroom was spacious and bright. High above, ancient magic chandeliers hung from the ceiling, emitting a soft and warm light that illuminated the entire room. Various strange runes and alchemical patterns were embedded in the walls, seemingly alive, flickering with a mysterious glow in the faint light.
In the center of the classroom was a massive alchemy workstation, cluttered with various precious materials, test tubes, beakers, and complex alchemical devices.
The air was filled with a faint aroma of herbs mixed with metal.
"This is definitely Hogwarts!" Ian couldn't help but look out the window, where the rain still poured; the shaking silhouettes of trees and the environment confirmed he hadn't crossed into a new world or region again.
"Did I enter Hogwarts' inner world?" Ian looked around, filled with surprise and curiosity. He gently pushed open the door and stepped out of the alchemy class imbued with fantasy color.
He was greeted by a familiar corridor.
Both sides of the corridor still adorned with those ancient portraits and magical decorations, quietly watching everyone who passed by. However, though the corridor seemed unchanged, Ian sensed an indescribable subtle shift, as if the entire world had undergone some subtle transformation the moment he was enveloped by light.
It's a hard-to-describe feeling.
Or perhaps just instinct.
"These murals still depict the usual figures; nothing turned into creepy monsters... maybe it's not the inner world?" Ian felt something about this Hogwarts was off.
He cautiously drew out his magic wand.
And at that moment,
"What are you doing, young lad, wandering around so late? Hmm? Does Hogwarts have someone like you?" A gentle yet slightly authoritative voice suddenly reached the little wizard's ears.
From behind.
Ian immediately turned around.
He saw... those deep blue eyes.
Albus Dumbledore.
The younger version.
[ps: Marriage, negotiations broke down, delay until the day after tomorrow, 8,000 words turned into 16,000