read my new story:
Hogwarts : He Starts by Deconstructing Avada Kedavra...
Hogwarts, my partner is Tom…
In the light of dawn the next day, the pale green morning sun chased across the mountains and rivers, driving the darkness back inch by inch into the abyss.
The morning mist, as if under a Slow-Release Charm, leisurely wrapped around the endless fields bordering Devonshire, just outside the village of Land's End, condensing into tiny silver beads on the gorse bushes.
Having slept soundly through the night, Ares stepped off the Knight Bus and stood at the edge of the village, gazing at this Muggle settlement that seemed forgotten by time.
He saw scattered houses in the village still using thatch for roofs, with pale white smoke drifting above, mingling with the scent of earth and gorse.
Ares sniffed the air, distinguishing the mixed scents.
The aroma of bread and bacon was very strong, and for the time being, he didn't detect any dangerous scents.
Gazing at the village, ripples stirred in Ares's clear black eyes.
On the day Cornelius Fudge awarded him the medal, the conversation with Dumbledore echoed clearly in his ears.
Tom Riddle, Gellert Grindelwald, Nicolas Flamel... plus Ares Delfino.
These were the few people identified by Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard in the modern wizarding world, as posing some threat in terms of 'fighting'.
To be honest, this statement didn't exceed Ares's understanding.
Tom Riddle—that is, Voldemort—at this point in time, was still a wandering spirit... according to the plot.
But whether the [Plot] had changed due to the intervention of Lari Gaspard, who could truly be called a [Mystery Man], was hard to say.
One could only judge rationally. Lari Gaspard wouldn't be Voldemort—otherwise, the incident where Gaspard stopped Quirrell from robbing the vault in the Gringotts underground wouldn't have happened... but it was very subtle that:
Mr. Potter's scar suddenly hurt intensely after seeing Lari Gaspard...
As for Gellert Grindelwald—everyone knew the Dark Lord who once caused turmoil throughout the European wizarding world was imprisoned in Nurmengard.
Ares didn't think mere Nurmengard and the International Confederation of Wizards could hold Grindelwald, but if Grindelwald had walked out of Nurmengard without Dumbledore knowing anything about it, that was almost impossible.
And then, there was Nicolas Flamel.
Based on Ares's understanding of Nicolas Flamel in the [Plot], he was the least likely person to be Lari Gaspard.
Because although the Philosopher's Stone could stop Death from swinging his scythe at Nicolas Flamel, it couldn't stop the ruthless erosion of time.
Given Flamel's current physical condition, successfully finding the bathroom to relieve himself after waking up in the morning was already a remarkable feat!
Furthermore, the thing Lari Gaspard most likely wanted was the Philosopher's Stone, and the Stone itself belonged to Nicolas Flamel.
Ares's visit to him was entirely based on Dumbledore's argument: the knowledge reserve granted to Flamel by his long life was incomparable to any contemporary wizard, so in a sense, Dumbledore believed Flamel to be stronger than him.
Although a bit far-fetched, as long as there was a sliver of possibility, Ares had to confirm it personally.
Of course, if...
If none of these three had any connection to Lari Gaspard.
If the wizard claiming to be Lari Gaspard was truly a [Sweeping Monk]-like character...
Tap, tap, tap—
Ares's eyes were as deep as an abyss. He stepped forward, shattering a cloud of mist enveloping him, and approached the village.
Even if Lari Gaspard... or the 'big shot' behind him, as he claimed, was his 'fellow countryman'...
Then...
In any case, this was a wizard Ares could not ignore. The unease and mystery he brought to Ares far exceeded even Voldemort.
So—
Ten minutes later, Ares stood in front of a house.
This old house with a thatched roof and walls of black rock mixed with yellow mud exuded vicissitudes and historical depth, perfectly fitting the style and 'persona' of the longest-living wizard of the age.
Ares's gaze passed over the low courtyard wall and into the house. Behind an opened carved window frame, an old person was busy making breakfast in the kitchen.
As Ares watched her, the old person seemed to sense his gaze and raised her head tremblingly to look back.
She was truly a very old woman. Not a single patch of smooth skin could be found on her exposed body. Her skin and hair were peculiar; besides the expected bloodless pallor, they were 'embellished' with extremely fine and dense 'gold dust'.
This was obviously a bodily 'alienation' caused by long-term consumption of some potion.
Ares knew the old woman was also watching him. Given her age—even if he added the years from his previous life, he wouldn't match a fraction of hers—he knew staying silent would be impolite.
"I apologize for disturbing your breakfast preparation, Madam—"
Ares straightened his ruffled clothes, nodded slightly, and smiled politely.
"But I must say, the water lilies and raspberries in your garden are blooming vigorously!"
"Thank you—"
The lady making breakfast smiled kindly and spoke softly.
"But child, you came all the way from Hogwarts with your stomach grumbling not just to compliment the flowers I planted, right?"
Ares's brow furrowed, then relaxed.
An old person who had lived for over six hundred years—it was hard to imagine how many different people she had met and how many storms she had weathered in her lifetime.
Even though Ares knew this old lady was 'frail', a unique pressure still permeated his heart.
"It seems you recognized me, Madam Flamel."
Ares bowed slightly.
"Oh, it would be harder not to recognize you, child. The newspapers talk about what you did every day."
Just saying two sentences made Madam Flamel start panting from exhaustion, but she still looked at Ares with a beaming smile.
"You mean stopping the Hogwarts Express... Oh, honestly, this might not sound very humble, but the fact is, I consider it a trivial matter,"
Ares said modestly yet politely.
"Well, it's like this, please forgive my rudeness—I mean, visiting directly without prior notice, Madam Flamel."
"Oh, what does that matter, child—"
Madam Flamel 'shuffled' out of the kitchen, briefly leaving Ares's line of sight before appearing at the door and waving to him.
Her eyes were amiable but revealed a wisdom capable of seeing through all illusions.
"Besides, for a long time, anyone who wrote in advance to visit Nicolas would be rejected by us. In the end, the wizards we meet are often uninvited... Come in and eat something first. The rumbling of your stomach is almost deafening me, child."
That was an interesting way to put it.
Ares was silent for a moment, then put aside his doubts and smiled freely.
"Then thank you for your hospitality, Madam."