. The show ended, and the audience dispersed.
The vast theater gradually fell silent.
Melvin returned to his office, leaning back against the solid wood chair, his eyes closed as he rested. A ethereal magic flowed through his body like a stream, refreshing and soothing.
His mind cleared, and his thoughts drifted away.
According to the water snake, emotions and beliefs connect the soul, and the secrets of magic lie deep within the soul. Thousands of years ago, ancient wizards began studying the soul and magic. Some, obsessed with the pursuit of power, lost themselves in the dark arts, while others, gifted with extraordinary talent, achieved brilliant success. The founders of Hogwarts were among the latter. Unfortunately, with the decline of ancient magic, all their achievements were lost to history.
Influenced by centuries of immigration, Ilvermorny absorbed wizards from around the world, becoming a place comparable to Hogwarts. Throughout the generations, there have always been a few exceptionally gifted teachers and students who left their mark on various magical fields. Unfortunately, no one has ever truly grasped the true nature of magic. Their achievements have become the invaluable knowledge in the library.
The horned water snake, nourished by the snakewood and boasting a lifespan of millennia, eventually absorbed this knowledge, combining it with its own unique talents to forge a new and uncharted path...
Melvin twirled the ring on his ring finger, pondering silently.
While ordinary human emotions could also increase magical power, the efficiency was still too slow. Compared to his peers, half a year only saved him several years of arduous Auror training.
For more efficient magical power, wizards were more suitable, especially powerful ones.
Tonight's events confirmed his suspicions.
"..."
There were still sporadic noises in the corridor outside: actors were removing their makeup, and backstage staff were arranging props. As they passed near his office, they all fell silent and stepped lightly.
Despite his gentle demeanor, the young head stage designer exuded a mysterious aloofness.
Furthermore, the previous head stage designer had personally demonstrated one thing: this young man was not to be trifled with.
That happened five months ago. The previous designer attempted to steal his stage ideas, submitting the stolen plans that morning. By noon,
accidents had begun. He was hit by a normal-moving car on a corner, nearly struck by a projectile as he passed a high-rise building, and stumbled along the way, barely making it out of the street... From that day on, bad luck plagued him whenever he set foot on Broadway.
The whole incident has become an urban legend circulating on Broadway, and its influence has paved the way for a much clearer atmosphere in the theater world. It's possible that this work will be adapted for the stage many years from now.
"Knock knock!"
"Come in,"
Melvin sat up and looked up.
The door opened halfway. It was Claire who knocked. The usually astute assistant looked bewildered. After opening the door, she paused for a second, then blinked, as if realizing something.
"Sir, your guest has arrived."
"Guest?"
Melvin frowned slightly.
Before Claire could explain, the door flung open, revealing two elderly men with warm smiles. One had white hair and a vigorous demeanor, while the other had silver hair and silver eyes, a mysterious aura.
"I don't recall having any guests tonight, let alone one who is the renowned President of the International Confederation of Wizards, President of the Wizengamot, and a member of the Council of Merlin's Order...
" "What do you think, Mr. Dumbledore? Mr. Nicolas Flamel?" Melvin
raised an eyebrow and chuckled softly. He
was a little surprised, but not shocked. These famous figures always liked to disguise themselves and sneak into inconspicuous places, then suddenly appear out of nowhere. This was written in the play scripts.
Both of them were living legends in the wizarding world. They appeared many times in alchemy textbooks, not to mention various newspapers and magazines, and Chocolate Frog cartoons...
Of course, Melvin was able to recognize them mainly for other reasons.
On the one hand, it was those distant memories deep in his soul.
On the other hand, it was the International Confederation of Wizards Convention last summer. He had observed the chairman from afar while attending the meeting. Dumbledore was squinting and dozing in the guest of honor seat at the time, which left a particularly deep impression on people.
"Heh..."
Nicolas Flamel gave Dumbledore a teasing look, grinning, and reached out to put something golden into Claire's pocket as an apology.
It was not the wizarding currency, the gold Galleon, issued by Gringotts. Melvin could see clearly that it was a genuine gold coin. One side was engraved with the Statue of Liberty holding a torch and an olive branch, and the other side was engraved with the double eagle of Saint-Gaudens. It should be the Eagle Gold Coin issued by the Federal Reserve five years ago, each coin containing one ounce of gold.
It was indeed a substantial apology.
The assistant lady who was under the Confounding Curse was completely unaware and turned away on her own.
"My full name is very long, but it certainly does not include such a long string of names."
Dumbledore blinked, then apologized, "Forgive us two old men for our impoliteness. I had planned to schedule a meeting with the beautiful assistant tomorrow, but she said you wouldn't be available for the next week... I'm truly sorry." "
That gold coin will be enough to make Claire understand."
"And you?"
"I'm only delighted to have two legendary wizards visit so late at night. Please take a seat,"
Melvin said with a meaningful smile. With a flick of his index finger, the drawer beneath his desk swung open, and the papers and miscellaneous items on the table suddenly came to life, bouncing into the drawer, leaving the desk spacious and uncluttered.
With another wave of his hand, the tea set in the cupboard flew out of thin air. A teapot with a lilac print and three cups landed on the table with a tinkling sound, forming a line.
Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel sat across from him, watching with interest. The magic wasn't spectacular, but the fluidity of the process, coupled with the caster's age, was worthy of all praise.
Just as they expected the tea to pour from the spout, they saw streams of burnt brown, bubbly liquid fill the cups, emitting tiny bubbles and a faint sizzling sound.
"There's no tea in the office, but this is my own special Coca-Cola," Melvin said with a gentle smile, motioning for them to taste it.
Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel exchanged a glance, each lifting their cups to their lips and taking a sip. Nicolas Flamel's
brow furrowed slightly, his centuries-old teeth unable to withstand the ravages of carbon dioxide. He calmly set down the cup, his brow furrowed.
Dumbledore's eyes lit up. The rich sweetness, the refreshing vapor, the sizzling bubbles like candy exploding in his mouth—perfectly suited to his taste.
This Muggle drink had been popular for a century; he had tried it seventy years before, but the proportion of bubbles in that drink wasn't right, making it too stimulating, and the blend of sweetness and herbal notes wasn't harmonious.
Mindful of his first meeting, Dumbledore drank the entire cup in two gulps, slowly setting it down, his eyes casually glancing at the teapot.
Before he could release his fingers, the cup was immediately filled with cola water as soon as the bottom touched the table.
"..."
Melvin wasn't sure if he was seeing things, but he felt that Dumbledore's smile seemed even brighter.
Nicolas Flamel also smiled and nodded: "Nice to meet you, Mr. Levent."
"My pleasure."
"..."
Although he was puzzled by the sudden visit of the two legendary wizards, Melvin did not immediately inquire about their purpose. Instead, he followed the flow of the conversation and chatted about some irrelevant topics.
This is how British wizards behave.
There is a wizard fable that goes like this: a British wizard mispronounced the levitation spell and summoned a bison. The bull's hoof was about to step on his face, but he still shouted that his grammatical pronunciation was more in line with pure Latin.
For the next half hour, they discussed tonight's performances, Broadway theaters, Goethe and Dante, Faust and Macbeth, and the evolution of stage effects over the centuries...
Melvin and Nicolas Flamel did most of the talking, while Dumbledore, absorbed in his sweet drink, listened quietly, stroking his beard and sipping his Coke.
"...through the mouth of the devil Mephistopheles, the author conveys the nihilistic power of absolute rule, arguing that all of Faust's achievements will ultimately be destroyed. He hears the clanking of shovels, believing them to be the people building, but in fact, the devil is digging his grave." Melvin finished,
took a sip of his Coke, and glanced calmly at the old wizard across from him, a hint of complacency in his expression.
You have the experience accumulated from the past, I have the wisdom from the future.
Nicolas Flamel pondered for a moment, then revealed an expression of amazement. "I had no idea there was such a level of interpretation. As expected, art, once completed, is the work of the interpreter. Even Goethe didn't have such profound insights when he was writing. Believe me, I lived next door to him at the time."
"..."
Melvin opened his mouth, but considering the man's age, he couldn't utter any rebuttal.
He was silent for a moment, then turned to the man next to him and said, "Mr. Dumbledore, what can I do for you?"
Dumbledore looked at the two of them and chuckled softly.
"Mr. Lewynter, I'd like to hire you as a professor at Hogwarts."
-
"Ilvermorny: A History"
In 1620, Isolt Sayre encountered a strange horned water snake on Mount Greylock. As a member of the Gaunt family, Isolt Sayre did not inherit Slytherin's Parseltongue, but was surprised to find that he could understand the horned water snake's speech and his thoughts. The two happily became friends. After founding Ilvermorny Academy of Wizardry, Isolt Sayre named one of its houses the Horned Serpent.
On the eve of her adopted son, Chadwick Boot's eleventh birthday, Isolt Sayre promised to make him a wand, but she couldn't find a suitable core. One night, Isolt dreamed of walking to a stream, where a Horned Serpent emerged and offered her a horn. Upon waking, Isolt returned to the stream and, as in her dream, received the Serpent's gift. Using the Serpent's horn as a core, she crafted a wand of powerful magic.
One late autumn evening, the Serpent warned Isolt Sayre: "Danger is approaching. Your family is doomed. Stay alert. Friends in the mountains will help you."
Thirteen days later, Isolt's aunt, the dark wizard Gormlaith Gaunt, raided Ilvermorny and cast a powerful curse on Isolt and James, attempting to kill them and abduct their newborn twin daughters. While she was performing the Parseltongue spell, her adopted son, Chadwick, was away when he suddenly received a warning from the wand of the Horned Water Serpe
nt. He quickly returned and, with the help of William the Pukkirk, a panther, and a young thunderbird, defeated Gormlaith Gaunt.
(End of this chapter)