"Dumbledore, you senile old fool! Are you even speaking English?!" Nicolas Flamel growled. "What nonsense is this 'die in peace' you're spouting?"
The absurdity of it all solidified Nicolas Flamel's decision: someone else had to join him on his final journey.
"Hey, you can't just say things like that," Nicolas Flamel grumbled.
Dumbledore's nonchalant attitude only fueled Nicolas Flamel's rage. Watching the two old wizards bicker like children, Tom Riddle felt a surge of impatience.
After a moment of deliberation, Tom Riddle interjected, his voice smooth as silk. "Nicolas, I propose a wager. I possess an alchemical device capable of storing items. If you cannot locate it, I win, and you relinquish your alchemy manual to me. Should you succeed... you may name your prize."
Nicolas Flamel ceased his argument with Dumbledore, his eyes narrowing as he considered Tom Riddle's offer. A faint smile played on his lips. The old truly do crave entertainment. "Very well," he declared. "I swear upon Merlin, if you are victorious, you shall have what you desire."
Having already resigned himself to the inevitable, Nicolas Flamel saw no harm in a bit of amusement before his demise.
Hearing this, Tom Riddle swiftly retrieved the Elder Wand from within his robes, before it immediately vanished.
No magical reaction confirmed: he hadn't used magic.
"You may search as you wish." Tom Riddle removed his robes, revealing a simple white shirt and black trousers.
Nicolas Flamel meticulously examined the discarded garments and Tom Riddle's remaining attire, finding no trace of any hidden alchemical device. "Impossible..." he muttered, bewildered. "How can this be?"
Of course he couldn't find it. Tom Riddle thought, The Elder Wand was concealed within my system space. Besides, Tom Riddle hadn't possessed any alchemical equipment to begin with.
Nicolas Flamel, a master of alchemy for centuries, nearly questioned his own sanity at the concept of the system space.
However, having lived for over six hundred years, Nicolas Flamel took such revelations in stride. He readily agreed to gift Tom Riddle his notes before the others returned. As for Tom Riddle's intentions with the knowledge, that was of no concern to him. What could he do, being on the verge of death?
A thought then struck him. "Since I am bestowing upon you the secrets of alchemy, shouldn't you address me as 'teacher'?" The prospect of the Dark Lord addressing him as such was rather amusing, something he had never experienced before.
Before Tom Riddle could respond, Dumbledore interjected, "Nonsense! Though you may be providing him with notes, he remains my student." After all, Tom Riddle, such a brilliant student, was his pride and joy, a tale he would boast about for years to come. "Besides, you haven't personally instructed him; how can you claim to be his teacher?" Dumbledore crossed his arms, glaring at Nicolas Flamel with obvious displeasure.
Nicolas Flamel seemed to have found a way to retaliate against Dumbledore. "Since dying sooner or later is the same, I might as well teach him for a couple of days first."
"You old geezer..."
While Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel were engrossed in their squabble, Madame Lemaître approached. She cast a disdainful glance at the two arguing old men before turning to Tom Riddle and Nagini with a kind smile. "Would you care for some tea and biscuits? I've just baked a fresh batch."
"Thank you very much, Madame Lemaître," Tom Riddle replied politely, then led Nagini into the house. While everyone was inside enjoying afternoon tea, the two old men in the yard were still arguing.
...
Contrary to expectations, Nicolas Flamel's house wasn't decorated in an antiquated style; it resembled a British home from the 1980s or 90s. Enjoying afternoon tea in the cozy interior was undoubtedly an elegant affair. However, Nagini and Madame Lemaître were the most engrossed in their conversation.
As for Tom Riddle, he didn't have much to contribute; his usual topics revolved around soul research, dark magic, and his subtle methods of murder and arson. Consequently, Tom Riddle could only listen to their conversation and show off his skill in making cookies.
Bang, bang, bang…
Suddenly, the small suitcase at Nagini's feet began to tremble and emit strange noises.
"What's wrong?" Madame Lemaître asked, her expression puzzled as she regarded the suitcase on the floor.
Tom Riddle's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "My dragon egg should be hatching."
"A dragon egg..." Having lived for centuries, Madame Lemaître wasn't easily surprised, but she couldn't suppress her curiosity.
Tom Riddle opened the briefcase. Surprisingly, it appeared empty, revealing only a staircase leading downwards. The three descended the stairs, entering a small, exquisite room furnished with a small bed, a cabinet, a table, a chair, and a door leading to an unknown location.
The cabinet was filled with alchemical ingredients and potion-making components, some of which Madame Lemaître had never encountered before. And on the table, the twitching dragon egg rested.
The black dragon egg trembled incessantly, the life within yearning to break free. If only it knew that one day this majestic creature would be kept as a pet by Tom Riddle, it might choose to remain inside the shell.
Crack…
The three fixed their gaze on the dragon egg as the two old men, who had managed to sneak down, peered into the room.
Crack, crack, crack!
The black dragon egg shattered completely, revealing a small brown dragon with a black spine.
"Yaaaaa... cough cough..." The little dragon cried out a few times with its eyes closed, then coughed up a few sparks. Opening its eyes, it found itself surrounded by a group of chattering humans.
"Tom, where did you get this dragon egg?"
"Never mind that; it's always been mine, Tom Riddle's, from the beginning."
"You do realize that keeping a dragon is illegal, right?"
"Go back and ask Fudge if keeping a dragon is illegal."
"..."
The little dragon couldn't comprehend human language, but it sensed that the handsome green-eyed human before it was a kind soul. It's worth mentioning that Tom Riddle's affinity with magical creatures was quite high.
"Awooo!" The little dragon cried out, catching Tom Riddle's attention, and then began to crawl towards him.
Tom Riddle scooped up the little dragon in one hand. "Interesting. From now on, you are my dragon."
"Tom, what will you name it?" Nagini inquired curiously, eager to know what Tom Riddle would call the little dragon. After all, when she met Tom, he could understand her, so even though she was a snake, she still had the name Nagini.
"It's also a female dragon," Madame Lemaître reminded him.
"Hmm… then I shall call you Annie." Tom Riddle thought for less than three seconds before blurting out the name.
Dumbledore looked puzzled. "Why that name?"
Tom Riddle chuckled softly. "No reason; it simply happened to be the first name that came to mind."
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