"…Rand, if you're going to send the child over, you might at least have given me some warning, surely?"
Dumbledore glanced back at Kate, who was sitting perfectly well-behaved in the chair, playing with Fawkes, then turned back to the fireplace with a helpless expression.
"My young mistress did write to you in advance. You simply never replied — too busy being important, I expect. Now you can answer her in person."
The green flames in the fireplace framed the old butler's roguish grin — it was only in the company of old comrades-in-arms that he ever smiled quite so freely.
After a brief silence, Dumbledore stroked his great white beard. "Let it not happen again."
With that, he extinguished the flames and turned to face Kate. "Child, during the summer holidays, most of Hogwarts' students and staff are not on the premises."
"I know, Professor!"
Kate sprang to her feet, Fawkes perched on her shoulder. "If Nicolas Flamel doesn't wish to see me, I can always stay in the dormitory for a few days."
At the mention of his old friend, Dumbledore's bright eyes took on a more complicated expression. "Speaking of which — about the manuscript you described in your letter…"
Kate immediately produced a copy she had prepared in advance. "This is a transcript I made myself. The original was authored by my ancestor, Ariel Shafiq — I wasn't sure whether you'd heard of her."
"A remarkably gifted alchemist," Dumbledore said, taking the manuscript and reading it over with care, his tone genuinely appreciative. "It is a great pity, however, that she passed away before the age of thirty. With her talent, she would surely have left a far greater mark on the history of alchemy."
Kate blinked. She had gone through every family genealogy and record she could find, yet the entries concerning Ariel Shafiq were maddeningly sparse — little more than a few stray lines.
"All I know is that our ancestor studied for a time under an unknown alchemist in her youth, then went on to become a fully-fledged alchemist herself."
After that, the family records contained no further mention of Ariel whatsoever.
Had Kate not stumbled upon the fact that the Lover's Chain was an alchemical item of Ariel's own making, she might never have known her family had produced such a figure at all.
To say nothing of the faint, half-glimpsed thread of feeling she had come to sense between Ariel and her aunt.
"Professor, how is it that you know about her?" Kate asked, curious.
Dumbledore returned the manuscript to her. "As far as I am aware, Ariel Shafiq once briefly took on an alchemy apprentice."
"That apprentice later took on a student of his own — a student who lived for over six hundred years, and who told me of the relationship between his own master and Ariel Shafiq."
Kate's eyes went wide. "My ancestor and Nicolas Flamel were connected like that?"
Which would make Ariel something like Nicolas Flamel's grand-master, in a manner of speaking.
"Just so," Dumbledore said, eyes warm with amusement as he gave her a small wink. "The reason I hadn't replied to your letters all this time was that Nicolas Flamel and I have been corresponding throughout. When he heard that a descendant of Ariel Shafiq wished to meet him, he began preparing for this meeting quite eagerly."
"As you know, once Harry retrieved the Philosopher's Stone, he and I decided it should be destroyed."
Kate gave a small nod. Harry had mentioned it briefly as he was leaving the train.
After six hundred years of life, Nicolas Flamel and his wife no longer wished to continue an existence that came at such a cost. It was why they had agreed to lend the Philosopher's Stone to Dumbledore in the first place.
Flamel himself had kept a small amount of the Elixir of Life derived from the Stone — enough to settle his affairs and take his leave of the world at his own unhurried pace.
"My original intention was to write to you once he was ready. But since you've come of your own accord, there's no time like the present — come, you'll meet him today."
Kate barely had time to react before Dumbledore reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder. The world lurched. Everything spun.
When reality reasserted itself, the scene before her had changed beyond all recognition.
"You seem quite accustomed to Apparition already," Dumbledore remarked, watching her steady herself almost immediately, not a flicker of nausea on her face. There was approval in his voice.
Kate managed a modest smile. In truth, she had been quietly teaching herself the theory of Apparition for the past month.
She was cautious by nature — she would never attempt something in practice until she had the theory fully worked out in her head.
"Professor, where are we?" She glanced around. It looked like an ordinary street, ordinary scenery — no different from anywhere else in England.
Dumbledore drew his wand with the unhurried air of a man who had all the time in the world. "Devon. Nicolas Flamel and his wife chose to retire here."
Kate noticed that his wand looked exactly like the Elder Wand from the films, and stole a second glance.
"What are you looking at?"
"Ah… I just… well, I thought the wand looked rather unusual."
She fumbled the explanation a little.
It would be a lie to say Kate felt no curiosity toward this legendary Deathly Hallow. But curiosity was as far as it went.
Every past wielder of the Elder Wand, with the sole exception of its final master Harry, had come to a bad end. She had no intention of trading away the rest of her life for power.
Besides, her own wand — bolstered by the System — was already considerably more potent than most. There was no need to go chasing after a wand that brought nothing but misfortune.
Dumbledore caught the slight unease in her expression, chuckled softly, and held the Elder Wand out toward her. "Would you like to try it?"
"No, thank you." Kate's composure flickered for just a moment. She drew her own pure white wand instead. "This is what suits me best. One wand is all I need."
She saw Dumbledore raise an eyebrow, and thought privately: this old man is testing me again.
What was there even to test? All she wanted was to keep her head down and make it to graduation in one piece. Everything else could go hang.
"What a pity," Dumbledore murmured under his breath. He gave his wand a wave, and the tightly-packed houses before them slowly unfolded — stretching outward to reveal a space that hadn't been there before.
The sight appeared so abruptly, so exactly like a film special effect, that Kate's attention was wholly captured.
"Come, child." He tucked away his wand and held out his hand to her. "They're inside. Come along with me."
Kate peered into the space beyond, then carefully extended her hand and placed it in Dumbledore's — large, aged, and weathered with deep cracks across the palm.
She thought she saw the faintest smile cross his face. Then he led her, unhurried, through the doorway and into the magically-veiled house.
Dumbledore raised a hand and knocked. A sound came from within. An elderly woman made her way to the door, and the moment she saw them, warmth spread across her face.
"Albus. It has been too long. And this must be the girl."
Kate dipped her head, a little shy. "Madam Flamel. Hello. I'm Kate Shafiq."
"What a dear child." She stepped aside. "Please, come in — he's been waiting for you inside."
Kate craned her neck for a look — and there, in the sitting room, an old man lay reclined in a rocking chair, eyes closed, apparently fast asleep.
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