He looked at the dark gravestone.
And at the white-haired old man standing silently before it.
A wave of sorrow suddenly welled up in Jon's heart.
Dumbledore placed the flowers in front of the gravestone, then slowly stepped back and gave a deep bow.
Jon followed his lead and bowed as well.
"Nick Flamel and I were friends despite the years between us!" Dumbledore said. "At the time, I was just a young man in my twenties, while he was already a renowned alchemist... He was both my mentor and my dearest friend. Together, we captured a massive Ukrainian Ironbelly, discovered the twelve uses of dragon blood, and co-authored that groundbreaking paper…"
Dumbledore fell into quiet reminiscence.
"All these years, he helped me countless times... Even though I knew he was a man who cherished solitude. All he wanted was to retire to Devon with his wife and spend their time on the stage they loved. But unforeseen events kept forcing me to turn to him…"
"A year ago, he told me he wanted to leave this world... You see, a master alchemist like him could choose his own time. I was overwhelmed by a profound sense of loss. So few of my old friends remain—and now, one more was saying goodbye."
Jon didn't interrupt Dumbledore's memories. He just nodded silently.
"Jon, when I was young, I too lost myself chasing power and ambition," Dumbledore said suddenly, his expression serious. "But in the end, I came to understand—family, love, and friendship... those are the most precious things in this world."
"I understand, Professor," Jon replied quietly. "I'll remember your words."
...
They remained in the cemetery for quite some time.
Jon gradually realized that the fear and hostility he once felt toward Dumbledore seemed to be slowly fading.
If a Boggart appeared now, it probably wouldn't turn into Dumbledore.
He had to admit, when he wasn't scheming, Albus Dumbledore was actually a kind—maybe even endearing—old man.
"Professor, where are we going now?" Jon glanced at his watch. It was nearly 11 o'clock.
That's when he remembered—it was his birthday today.
What a birthday: a lesson in patriotism, a visit to Britain's most terrifying prison, and now a funeral.
"I'm terribly sorry for disturbing your birthday, Jon!" Dumbledore said with a smile. "I believe I can take you back right away!"
"Dumbledore... Professor Dumbledore!" A hoarse voice suddenly called out from the distance.
"Oh, my goodness!" Dumbledore turned around, delighted.
Jon saw a scruffy-looking old man, two elderly women, and a boy around his own age approaching.
Dumbledore embraced the scruffy man. "Newt, my friend… I assume you're also here to pay your respects to Nicolas?"
"Yes," Newt Scamander nodded. "Back in Paris, Mr. Flamel was a great help to my brother and me."
"Let me introduce everyone!" Newt gestured toward the others. "My wife, Tina; her sister, Queenie Kowalski; and my youngest grandson, Rolf."
The two elderly women looked quite advanced in age—one seemed kindly, the other rather troubled.
The boy around Jon's age gave him a friendly smile. Jon nodded back at once.
"In two months, Rolf will be starting at Hogwarts too… I hope he gets sorted into Hufflepuff," Newt said, pointing to his grandson.
"I don't think I can help with that... This is Jon Hart," Dumbledore said, patting Jon on the shoulder. "What a coincidence—he's a little Hufflepuff."
"Hufflepuff?" Newt suddenly looked intrigued. "That's where I went to school too... though I was expelled in my fifth year."
"Phineas Black later called it the biggest mistake of his life!" Dumbledore laughed.
Newt chuckled. "I still remember how annoying Headmaster Black's face was."
The two elderly wizards fell into friendly conversation.
Jon hesitated for a moment, then finally pulled his wand from his belt.
Taking advantage of a pause, he spoke up. "Mr. Scamander… I have a question I'd like to ask."
"Oh?" Newt turned to glance at him. "Something about Magical Creatures?"
"Yes!" Jon nodded. "I don't know if you're familiar with the Iron-Eating Beast. Mr. Ollivander said the core of my wand is made from its hair... I've searched through the library for ages but couldn't find much about it."
Jon truly had gone through many books on magical creatures, but the Iron-Eating Beast was barely mentioned—only that it was a powerful, enchantment-capable magical creature from Asia. Now, facing a world-renowned Magizoologist, he felt he couldn't waste the chance.
"Iron-Eating Beasts!" Newt fell into thought. "I remember… back in 1925, while traveling the world, I observed them up close in Sichuan…"
"They're incredibly powerful magical creatures. Based on magical ability and danger level, they'd easily be classified as 4X," Newt explained. "Of course, you may not be familiar with how magical creatures are ranked."
"In general, creatures with both strong magic and high aggression are classified as 5X—the highest level. Like the Basilisk, the giant Griffin, and the most fearsome dragons, such as the Hungarian Horntail and the Ukrainian Ironbelly. But magical creatures with powerful abilities but low aggression only reach 4X at most—like the Phoenix, the Burrower, or the Thunderbird."
"Creatures ranked 4X and above typically possess magical abilities exceeding those of 95% of wizards," Newt continued. "But the Iron-Eating Beast is also highly intelligent, which is extremely rare among magical creatures."
"They're very friendly toward both wizards and Muggles, almost never attacking humans. They appear gentle and docile."
"However, their lack of aggression only applies to intelligent beings like humans. Against non-intelligent animals—whether magical or not—that trespass into their territory, they reveal terrifying power."
"In Lijiang, I once saw a rhinoceros that wandered into an Iron-Eating Beast's nest get struck by a single blow from an adult—its skull shattered instantly. Even as it died, the rhino, entranced by magic, mistook the attacking beast for its mate—and never fought back."
"Also, the Chinese Fireball Dragon's range is in the middle and lower Yangtze River, which is unusual. Dragons usually prefer the forested upper reaches... Yet I searched all over Sichuan and Yunnan without finding a single live dragon. Instead, I came across multiple fossil pits of the Chinese Fireball Dragon."
"In fact, south of Tibet, across the entire upper Yangtze region, there are no active ferocious beasts or magical creatures. Many local Muggles believe they're protected by the Iron-Eating Beast—and I think they may be right."
"Sadly, that's all I know about them..." Newt Scamander finished.
"Thank you, Mr. Scamander," Jon said gratefully.
...
After leaving Devon, it didn't take long for Dumbledore to bring him back to 86 Eastleigh Road.
It was nearly midnight. After a brief farewell with the headmaster, Jon went inside.
But Albus Dumbledore didn't return to Hogwarts. Instead, he Apparated straight to the Ministry of Magic.
It was late, and there were few staff left on duty. Dumbledore took the lift to the sixth floor: the Department of Magical Transportation.
Eventually, he entered the Portkey Office.
"Professor Dumbledore!" the young night officer exclaimed in surprise at the unexpected visitor.
"Good evening, Bob," Dumbledore greeted him with a smile. "I need a Portkey to Nurmengard Tower. As you know, Apparition and the Floo Network are prohibited within a hundred-mile radius."
As he spoke, Dumbledore pulled a document from his pocket. "This is my special access certificate to Nurmengard Tower, issued by the Wizengamot."
"All right, Professor Dumbledore, just a moment!"