Chapter 245. The Catacombs of Paris. Part 1. The Descent.
After a brief evening stroll through nighttime Paris, which hadn't particularly impressed him with the "beauty" celebrated in countless books and magazines, Severus returned to his room and prepared for sleep ahead of the next day's descent into the catacombs.
But before he could even close his eyes, he sensed a magical surge from his wallet. Raising an eyebrow in puzzlement, he cast a silencing barrier around Nagini and pulled out the folded sheet of paper Flamel had given him earlier.
Of course, he had a guess why Flamel had decided to contact him, but he hadn't expected it to happen barely an hour after he'd left.
Unfolding it, he saw Nicholas's agitated face. The man no longer looked like a zombie; he resembled a perfectly ordinary elderly man of about sixty or sixty-five. Even his age spots had vanished. Before Severus stood what seemed like an entirely different person.
"M-Mr. Prince! What kind of honey is this?!"
"Hm… unexpected." Severus, to put it mildly, was also surprised by this outcome. From the beginning, he had calculated that the effect would be weaker; at the very least, physically, Flamel should have become Dumbledore's equal, not significantly younger. "This is strange…"
"Please, answer! Where did you get it?!" Nicholas asked again, a faint plea in his voice.
"I didn't obtain it. My teacher did. Even for him, it nearly cost his life. And with your body, it would be a direct path to the grave," Severus answered calmly. He wasn't entirely lying about the second part. His mind was still trying to work out how this had happened.
His words nevertheless sobered the agitated old man.
Although Flamel understood that such a miracle couldn't be obtained easily, had he known what this honey had actually cost Severus, he would have torn out every hair on his head by the roots.
"I see… I… apologize…" Noticing Severus's expression, Flamel felt a bit embarrassed. "Could we meet again tomorrow?"
"Hm… I don't know. Tomorrow I plan to go to that place…"
"I will gui—!" But then the old man's face twisted, and he added with a nervous smile, "That is… we, my wife and I, will guide you to the herbs. That place is an enormous labyrinth of tunnels. Our help will definitely prove useful, and along the way, we can discuss everything!"
"Um… all right. I'll gladly accept your help," Severus replied, barely managing to keep the corners of his lips from curling upward.
"Then I won't disturb you any further. Once again, I apologize for the intrusion. Good night."
"And to you, Mr. Flamel." After these words, the sheet darkened and folded itself back in half. *But still, it's interesting… how…?* Putting the sheet away, Severus placed his hands behind his head and gazed at the ceiling. *Or did I underestimate this honey? Perhaps I misjudged Flamel's physical condition?*
But after a few seconds, he shook his head and closed his eyes.
*Fine. I'll find out tomorrow anyway. Better to get some sleep now. Tomorrow and the coming week promise to be very eventful…*
---
The Catacombs of Paris: a vast network of tunnels stretching over three hundred kilometers, covering a total area of eleven thousand square meters.
The walls, floor, and ceiling of this place were literally made of bones. According to Muggle estimates, between six and seven million people rested in this labyrinth.
The catacombs date back to the settlement of Lutetia, located on the site of what would later become Paris. Until the twelfth century, limestone was mined from this site.
Later, mining shafts were dug, and over the course of six hundred years, hundreds of kilometers of tunnels of various shapes were carved out.
Eventually, when houses began collapsing into the tunnels below, the excavations were ordered halted. Afterward, the tunnels served as shelter for various criminal elements.
By the late eighteenth century, Paris's cemeteries were overflowing with bodies. The State Council decided to clear most of them and transfer the remains to the catacombs.
Initially, two million bodies were transferred from the Cemetery of the Innocents. The process was considered successful, and from 1787 to 1814, another fifteen cemeteries were emptied. By 1859, nine more had been emptied.
Such was the brief Muggle history of this gloomy place, located beneath the most romantic city in the world.
The wizarding world only took notice in 1889, when a wizard particularly sensitive to energies and auras sensed an incredible amount of dark energy.
He reported this to the local Ministry of Magic. An investigation of the catacombs began, and it became one of their biggest roundups.
In just one day, Auror squads captured one hundred and twenty necromancers. The next day brought forty more, and by week's end, the number exceeded two hundred.
For this reason, this labyrinth has been patrolled daily by squads of dark wizard hunters ever since. They apprehend anyone suspicious, as many necromancers still try to sneak inside, disguising themselves as Muggles or ordinary wizards.
---
Early that morning, Severus stood among a small crowd of Muggles before an inconspicuous green iron house. Next to it stood a small two-story building that resembled a museum, and he studied it with interest.
What drew his attention was the density of death energy hovering around the little house, enough to make anyone particularly sensitive to it feel their hair standing on end.
*It was worth coming here. Now I have something to give Eileen for her birthday…*
"…All the bones were gathered into large piles, but then specialists took up… sorting them, so to speak. In the end, neat stacks formed, not without their own gloomy charm," the tour guide concluded with a hint of amusement in her voice. She was a woman of about forty with dark hair, watching the group of twelve before her with a playful squint. They regarded the little house, the entrance to this abode of death, with varying emotions, but mostly curiosity. "Those who wish to enter must first sign some documents, which I'll now explain…"
Severus stepped away from the group. Settling onto a bench to the right of the little house, he took out one of the books Flamel had given him and immersed himself in reading, surrounding himself with a Disillusionment barrier and Muggle-repelling charms.
At the same time, the tour guide watched him with a slight frown, as did several other wizards monitoring the area.
Severus himself wasn't particularly concerned about this. He was far more interested in the book's contents: he still intended to forge his own sword and had already found one of the additional materials he planned to use.
He hoped to find something in the book to serve as a base material. The magical steel of this world didn't satisfy him; it possessed durability and flexibility, yes, but in battle against devils, a sword made of it wouldn't leave even a scratch on those monsters' hides, not even on the weakest among them.
The ideal material would be benz steel. A sword forged from it could easily cleave off the heads of even the strongest devils, leaving massive wounds impossible to heal due to white corrosion, an effect that not only ate away at their flesh but completely suppressed healing.
Though rather mediocre as a weapon in battle against other warriors, it was indispensable when fighting dark creatures.
It was precisely thanks to the discovery of this miraculous effect that they had managed to hold back the devils for a few more days during the war, until five Architects arrived with a large group of Grand Archimagi.
Severus had already found one type of steel possessing a light element, as Li Er had told him, but he hoped to find something stronger, something that wouldn't shatter after the first blow.
At this very moment, Tobby was experimenting with this material, combining it with others to increase durability, though at the cost of the light element's power. It could always be enhanced with runes or charms later, but Severus hadn't lost hope of finding the real thing. If the worlds were truly so similar, there was a small possibility that benz steel might exist here as well.
That was why he had been so pleased to receive this book the day before.
However, before he could read even ten pages, a soft pop announced the arrival of a slightly rejuvenated Flamel, accompanied by a dark-haired lady. She appeared slightly younger than McGonagall, with a few graying strands in her hair and skin free of visible wrinkles. But what stood out was her magical power, comparable to that of a Magister at peak rank, someone who in just a few decades could reach the summit.
*So this is possibly the strongest wizard in this world… and a woman at that.* No, Severus had no prejudice against women. In his world, many powerful witches could give most men a run for their money. However, they made up only fifteen to twenty percent of all wizards, and usually didn't reach the same level as their male counterparts. Even among the five Architects, there had been only one woman. Among the fifty strongest wizards in the world, only ten were women, occupying positions from twentieth place onward, and only one had cracked the top ten, the elven queen. But her supreme lineage played a significant role in that, granting her incredible affinity for natural magic and control that even the most talented humans would envy. Yet even she ranked only seventh. So he was a little surprised, but no more than that.
"Mr. Prince, I'm glad to meet you again!" His face bright with excitement, the flustered but happy old man practically rushed up to him and shook his hand firmly, a contrast to the day before.
"And I, Mr. Flamel…"
"Stop embarrassing the young man already, you old fool!" The lady frowned and poked him in the side. Flamel looked at her, offended, clutching the spot, while Perenelle herself offered a grateful smile and a slight bow to Severus. "We're very grateful for yesterday's gift. If you ever need anything within our power, we'll do everything possible to help."
"I heard you were previously the headmistress of Beauxbatons. Could you help me gain access to the school library and perhaps attend a few classes?" He didn't beat around the bush. Perenelle showed mild surprise, then nodded with what looked like relief.
"That's not difficult. I will ask Olympe to arrange a tour of the castle for you."
"Then I thank you. I need nothing more."
"Mr. Prince, please, tell me more about this miracle honey!" Flamel began pestering him again, impatience in his voice, only to double over from another elbow to the ribs.
"I apologize for my husband. When it comes to the unknown, he gets far too impatient," Perenelle said with a hint of embarrassment. "But I share his curiosity; I'd also like to learn about this honey."
"I can't help you with that. You'd need to ask my teacher. He's the one who gave it to me."
"Ah…"
"I'll ask him. I think he'd be interested in meeting you," Severus said, as if reading the alchemist's mind. He turned halfway toward the small green house. "Shall we go?"
"Yes, yes, of course, let's go." Remembering why they had come, Flamel nodded, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head.
Under the gaze of the puzzled wizards monitoring the catacombs, who found the two newcomers vaguely familiar, they calmly entered the little house, still conversing. But thanks to the silencing charms, the watchers couldn't hear a word.
Glancing at each other, they nodded. One of them took out a slip of paper and tore it. It burned almost instantly, and the black smoke formed a brief message: Accepted.
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