v2 Chapter 1： old man in devon

Devon,

A remote manor.

For hundreds of years, almost no outsiders have been able to set foot here, including wizards and Muggles.

In the very center of the manor, there is a beautiful perfect square room, with a huge single green granite column supporting a ten-meter-high dome.

The room reverberated with Beethoven's Sixth Symphony, and this great melody came from a square mirror stand standing proudly in front of the western wall.

Looking closely, it turned out to be the Vienna Theater in the mirror, with a huge orchestra playing perfectly under the command of a musician with frantic hair like a lion.

This room is so peculiar, the walls are like a kaleidoscope of ancient characters... Egyptian, Hebrew, astronomical, alchemical, and other inexplicable symbols.

Above the higher, surrounded by six portraits, each of them holds a blood-red stone in his hand, shining like a silent ghost eye.

The people in these six paintings are not like the principals in the principal's office, they are no different, because all of them are the same person.

It's just that the old people in each painting are exactly 100 years apart.

The six silently watched the old man in the center of the room.

He was wearing a fashionable dragon-skin apron and gloves woven from unicorn feathers. He hunched his waist and stared at the extra-large U-shaped test tube on the experimental bench.

He pushed the pair of black-rimmed glasses with rhino horns on his face, sometimes underestimating something in his mouth, sometimes jumping around, sometimes falling into contemplation.

"Oh, this melody is not good, it's too soft, I need some passion!"

The old man snapped his fingers, and the Beethoven in the mirror frame was gone, replaced by Bach.

"Oh," he said unhappily, "don't want Bach, this is the style I liked two hundred years ago, let's have a pop style."

The mirror image turned into rock, and the rhythm became more exciting.

—Immigrant Song

If William was here, he would probably hear that this is the bgm of Thor 3. However, this album was released as early as 1970, and it is obviously also the old man's recent favorite.

He was very satisfied, shaking with the beat.

At the end of the song, he had another single cycle.

After an unknown amount of time, a crisp sound rang out, and the toad statue in the corner on the right said loudly, "Fifteen minutes later, Albus Dumbledore will arrive at the door."

The old man raised his head and looked at the window not far away, where a giant prophecy sphere was placed.

The figure of Dumbledore was revealed in the prophecy sphere, and he apparated outside the manor alone, which was obviously a scene fifteen minutes later.

"Oh, I forgot about this." The old man patted his head and muttered.

He clearly felt that he had done an experiment for a while, but the whole afternoon passed.

"Not enough time!" he muttered.

"The 100,083rd experiment of the universal elixir failed, record the data and destroy the semi-finished product directly." The old man instructed.

"Yes!"

A house-elf appeared, dressed in gorgeous silk short sleeves, green eyes the size of tennis **** covered by toad sunglasses, and a turban wrapped around his long ears.

"This dress is good, Hercules, you can dress better than your father and grandfather, and you already have my style." The old man grinned.

Hercules bowed and respectfully said, "Thank you for your compliment!"

"Relax." The old man glanced at the room in the distance and whispered, "Is it free this weekend? I got two tickets for a fashion show...Victoria's Secret..."

Hercules broke down in cold sweat and said unnaturally, "If Madam finds out..."

"Hey, if you don't tell me, who knows?" The old man took off his glasses, dropped two drops of magic potion, and explained, "You probably don't know yet, my eyes can find beauty that others cannot.

Let’s talk about Van Gogh. No one wanted his paintings back then. I bought a lot of them as soon as I sold them. Look, how much are his current paintings worth among Muggles?

I'm good at finding bright spots in advance among things that everyone rejects. That's what fashion shows mean! "

"Think about it, there's still time, I'll go change a piece of clothes and meet my old friend. I can tell you that if you don't go, the ticket will be given to Albus!"

The old man walked out of the room quickly, and the music was changed again.

—Dear little sister

please don't cry

where is your home

I will take you back with you...

The living room is lit by a row of candles. The candlelight was dim, the old man leaned back on the chair and stared down at the golden cup in his palm, the liquid in the cup was bright red.

After a moment, Dumbledore's smile illuminated the dull living room.

"Good evening, Nick, I'm surprised to know I'm coming this afternoon?" Dumbledore said softly.

He sat down on a dark hand-chiseled dragon leather chair made of black walnut.

"It's really surprising, what kind of wind blows you, a busy man?" Nick Lemay laughed.

A symphony of destiny flows slowly.

"Of course it's to steal the secret mission of the music mirror." Dumbledore leaned back on the chair and savored the beautiful melody.

"Seriously, I am willing to exchange all my Gringotts property for this mirror of yours."

"Don't even think about it, here are the precious concerts that I have recorded for 600 years." Nick Lemay blinked.

"Or iced lemon juice?"

Dumbledore nodded, and a glass of lemon juice appeared in his hand.

"Albus, what's the matter?" Nick Lemay asked after the joke was over.

"I'm on a short business trip today," Dumbledore replied, looking around the gorgeous living room. "Meeting the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, he should go to Albania, and he smells familiar."

"Oh," Nick Lemay's expression remained unchanged, "so, he's coming back?"

"Maybe, but it should take a while." Dumbledore crossed his hands, "but Harry is going to school this year."

Nick Lemay looked up at Dumbledore, not seeming to be particularly concerned about Harry Potter.

"I'm sorry to come here to see you like this, Nick, but there's something I have to do like you... help."

"It's still rare." Nick Lemay smiled.

He didn't know what an old man who hadn't touched in nearly half a century could do for someone who stood at the top of the magic world.

"What's the matter? Just say it," the old man replied.

Dumbledore lowered his voice. "I want you to think about it and lend me one thing - the Philosopher's Stone."

Nick rolled his eyes. "You should know that the broken stone has no magic power."

"But Tom doesn't know."

Nick stared at Dumbledore and suddenly smiled.

"Albus, do you remember the first time you wrote to me?"

Dumbledore was in a trance for a moment, a trace of pain on his face.

At that time, Dumbledore was only thirteen years old. He was a little wizard in the second grade. UU Reading even wrote to the famous Nick Lemay, asking him to lend him the Philosopher's Stone to save his nine-year-old sister.

Because Silent's age can hardly exceed ten years old.

And Nick LeMay agreed.

"You know, I'm still grateful for your decision at that time." Dumbledore restrained his pain and said seriously, "If you want, I can help you refine another magic stone at any time."

"Forget it, you are too old to consume your lifespan."

Dumbledore laughed, but still looked a little distracted.

"Here you are." Nick Lemay took out a small bag from his pocket and threw it to Dumbledore.

The packet was just a small box a few centimeters square, wrapped in a layer of faded brown wrapping paper and tied with a string.

"Seriously, Albus," Nick fiddled with his new sleek black jacket.

"I have lived for more than 600 years and have always understood one thing, this world can lack anyone, including you and me of course.

Don't waste your time like this, it's time to plan for yourself, I don't want to attend your funeral. "

Dumbledore looked down at the box and laughed. "Death is just another great adventure."

Nick Lemay smiled slightly, "But I haven't seen enough."

"By the way, the kid you mentioned, I wrote him a letter. It's very interesting and talented, just like you back then."

"That's good."

Nick Lemay looked up at the starry sky and heard the melody of the Symphony of Destiny in his ears. He drank the blood-red liquid in the golden cup.

"Fate..."

…

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(The third update, please recommend votes, thanks to "Tidal X" for the reward)