Chapter 37 Nicolas Flamel is at least several hundred years old
In mid-December, heavy snow fell from the sky, Hogwarts Castle stood in the ice and snow, and the Black Lake also froze over.
Hagrid dragged a several-meter-tall fir tree into the campus, leaving a long trail in the several feet of thick snow.
Inside the Castle, there was laughter everywhere, and most of the students were packing their luggage, preparing to go home for Christmas, and even the usually mischievous ghosts would stop to say Merry Christmas.
On both sides of the Great Hall were twelve medium-sized Christmas trees, and Professor Flitwick was decorating the largest Christmas tree at the very front of the Great Hall, with Aaron assisting him below.
Candles, colored paper, lights, and golden star models were all placed on the Christmas tree by the two of them using the Levitation Charm.
As the last star was placed on the treetop, the Christmas tree was adorned beautifully.
"Done, Professor, Merry Christmas." Aaron wiped the sweat from his forehead. Decorating one Christmas tree was nothing to him, but he had handled almost half of the Christmas trees in the entire Great Hall.
This workload was a bit heavy. Although the Levitation Charm was simple, his magic energy had barely reached four digits, and it couldn't withstand such extravagance.
Especially since he didn't want to attract too much attention right now, he had sealed half of his magic energy with a magic ring. Doing such physically demanding work with the magic energy of an Intermediate Wizard in the early stages was truly not easy.
"Merry Christmas, Mr. Gaius," Professor Flitwick said with a smile, "Slytherin gets ten points, as I promised you.
But your talent is really good; you're only in the First Class, but your magic level is almost catching up to the Fourth Class."
"Thank you for the compliment!" Aaron also showed a smile. Every point added counted, ensuring his system mission was secured.
"Then Professor, if there's nothing else, I'll be going.
After all, I've been working hard all morning, and I'm quite tired."
"Go ahead, child!"
Aaron picked up Abey, found a seat in the Great Hall, and casually flipped through a book about magical creatures.
Harry and Ron were playing Wizard Chess next to him. Harry was clearly a novice, carefully considering every move.
Ron, however, seemed like a seasoned veteran, killing with great relish; of course, it was also possible he was just beating up on a newbie.
The lifelike magical chess pieces constantly battled on the board under the control of the two players, with occasional clanging sounds.
Just then, Hermione walked over, frowned at the destroyed chess pieces, and said, "This is too barbaric."
"This is Wizard Chess," Ron chuckled, putting away the pieces. "Have you packed your luggage?"
"Yours isn't packed."
"Plans changed. My mum and dad decided to go to Romaniato see my brother Charlie. He's studying dragons there."
Aaron noticed Abey perked up its ears, clearly curious about news of other dragons.
"Good! You can help Harry.
He needs to go to the Library to look for information about Nicolas Flamel."
"We've looked a hundred times already," Ron complained.
"Nicolas Flamel?" Aaron raised an eyebrow. "That name sounds familiar."
"Aaron, you've heard of him?" Harry was overjoyed. They had searched the Library for so long without any results, and he hadn't expected the answer to be so close!
"Heard of him, yes, but what do you want with that old man?
His temper is particularly strange. One moment he's as gentle as a spring breeze, the next he's as bleak as an autumn wind."
Harry's eyes darted around as he explained, "We're not looking for him; we just want to understand a little about him."
"Really?" Aaron smiled playfully. "I don't believe it.
You three are all First Class Wizards. Logically speaking, you shouldn't have any contact with him at all, and you shouldn't even have heard his name. So why would you think of looking for him now?
What's your real purpose?"
"Uh..." Harry hesitated, unsure whether to reveal their suspicions.
"Harry!" Ron shook his head slightly at him. Currently, only the three of them knew about this matter, but if Aaron, who was close to Snape, were added to the mix, the risk would increase significantly.
Seeing the situation at a stalemate, Hermione interjected, "Tell him! Don't you trust Aaron's character?"
"It's not that we don't trust him, it's just... we don't want to get him involved," Harry said. "You know, his relationship with that person..."
Hermione rolled her eyes speechlessly, knowing that given Harry and Ron's level of suspicion towards Snape, it was absolutely impossible for them to trust Aaron one hundred percent.
"Aaron." Hermione weakly pouted, "Can you tell us information about Nicolas Flamel? It's very important to us."
"Alright! But I don't know much.
The last time I saw him was when I was four years old, dragged by my grandfather to France."
"France? Nothing else?" Harry said, somewhat startled. "Like, what does he do?"
"He's an Alchemist!
But not just any Alchemist. My grandfather had to give him three parts respect and even brought a batch of precious magic materials when we went."
The group exchanged glances. It seemed they needed to focus their search on books about Alchemy.
"Anything else?" Harry continued to ask.
"And that guy is very, very old."
"You don't need to tell me that," Ron said with a smile, shaking his head. "He's a Wizard who can be associated with Dumbledore; he probably has a white beard."
"That's not necessarily true.
Dumbledore is a well-known White Wizard, and his social circle is wider than you might think.
For example, the Minister for Magic, some Pure-bloodfamilies, the Hogwarts Board of Governors, and various national magical foreign affairs departments.
Even some races that live in the dark: Werewolves, Giants, Vampires, and..."
"Stop!" Ron patted his little heart. "I was wrong, Aaron.
I shouldn't have interrupted. You continue."
"Hmph!" Aaron curled his lip disdainfully and explained, "The age I'm talking about might be older than you think. Even Dumbledore can only be considered a junior in front of him."
"No way!" Hermione's mouth twitched. "Dumbledore should be over a hundred years old this year, right?"
"Hermione, Wizards are different from Muggles; their lifespans are naturally much longer.
What's more, for Wizards, there are too many ways to extend life. The conventional methods include various Potions and elixirs... As for unconventional methods, you can go to Knockturn Alley and ask around. You can pull any Wizardthere, and they'll know ways related to extending life, but they are basically full of blood and violence, and they might not even work."
"Gollum!" Hermione swallowed. "I'll pass on that.
So how old is Nicolas Flamel exactly?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know?" Ron couldn't quite control his emotions. "Then you just said so much..."
"Calm down, be a little more composed.
I was only four years old at the time, at most a tiny bit stronger than a three-year-old. How could I remember so much?
What's more, for a four-year-old like me to ask a great Wizard his age, do you think that's appropriate?
Even if it were, would Nicolas Flamel answer me?
However, there's one sentence I remember quite clearly.
When Nicolas Flamel opened the door for my grandfather and me, he said: 'The last Gaius child who came here was your great-grandfather.'
Also, let me remind you, my great-grandfather was a bit stronger than me when he met him; he was a five-year-old child, brought by my great-great-grandfather.
This means he knew my great-great-grandfather at least."
The three of them:... "So, Nicolas Flamel should be at least over two hundred years old, right?" Hermione said, and then suddenly remembered something, clapping her forehead. "I knew it! That's why I couldn't find Nicolas Flamel's name in the modern famous Wizard texts!
Books recording his information should at least be pushed back one or two hundred years!"
"Possibly more!" Aaron said faintly. "His status in the hearts of some older Wizards is not something Dumbledore can compare to.
That's all I know. The rest you'll have to find yourselves."
"Thank you, Aaron," Hermione said with a smile. "At least modern Wizards can be ruled out. If we still can't find anything, we'll just have to go to the Restricted Section."
"Oh, the Restricted Section?
To read books there, you need a note from a Professor, but you... with all due respect, you don't have that qualification yet."
"Can you help us? Every Professor likes you. If you were to borrow them..." Harry said, somewhat excitedly, but before he could finish, Aaron interrupted him.
"Sorry, I can't help you with that, and I suggest you don't do it either.
First Class students accessing restricted books is quite dangerous, not to mention your purpose in going there isn't to study."
Harry awkwardly scratched his head, too embarrassed to ask Aaron for help again.