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But the guilt and regret in her heart had already tormented her for months. She'd been hallucinating and having nightmares, dreaming that her husband died of anger after an argument with her.
If she couldn't confirm whether her husband truly died of natural causes, Queenie felt she might never find peace for the rest of her life.
"It's not a matter of whether you remember the rules. The main issue is the time sand... sigh, you all know, this stuff isn't something you can just find lying around," Nicolas Flamel glanced at the drawer in his office, clearly preparing to use this well-known excuse to politely decline Queenie and Newt Scamander's request.
However,
Though he, like Grindelwald, bore the bloodline of a Seer, just as Grindelwald sometimes miscalculated, Nicolas Flamel's careful plan had clearly just suffered a major crisis.
"If it's the time sand that's lacking, I have plenty! Just earlier, a little wizard gave me a big bag of it!" Queenie, like someone clutching a lifeline, pulled out a small pouch containing black sand.
"???????"
Nicolas Flamel was stunned. Under his disbelieving gaze, Newt Scamander and Tina each also pulled out a pouch containing black sand.
"Motherf----!"
The well-informed Master of Alchemy nearly popped his eyeballs out.
"In that case, there shouldn't be any problem, right? We can pay our own way," Newt Scamander's voice was filled with excitement.
His eyes were shining.
Maybe it was because he felt he now had a wonderful opportunity to meet ancient magical creatures.
"How much did that little monster dig up?!" Of course, Nicolas Flamel knew where the black sand came from. He just couldn't believe Ian had casually handed out three full pouches.
Based on what he knew and thought of that little wizard, unless he had at least several dozen pounds of it, Ian would never be so generous as to give it away to just anyone!
"You mean that little wizard we just met, Mr. Ian Prince? He said he dug up a lot," Newt Scamander answered honestly.
"He actually gave you three full pouches? I doubt the Department of Mysteries could scrape together that much raw sand. I'm very curious, did you all compliment how handsome he is?" Nicolas Flamel was clearly puzzled by why Ian would give out time sand to people at random.
The only explanation he could think of was that Ian had been flattered by Newt and the others; after all, Ian had handed out plenty of candy and chocolate to little witches who praised his looks before.
And ever since then, he'd gone around calling himself "Triple Leonardo." Wizards might not understand what that meant, but Nicolas Flamel, who was quite knowledgeable about Muggle affairs, did.
This year's What's Eating Gilbert Grape was his favorite Muggle movie, after all.
"Well, the thing is, Newt picked up his Bowtruckle, so..." Tina began to recount how they'd run into the little wizard in the Hogwarts great hall.
"That Bowtruckle wasn't lost, it escaped..." Nicolas Flamel slapped his forehead. He'd thought he was doing a good deed by rescuing an innocent magical creature.
Who would've thought that the Bowtruckle ended up being returned to the world's foremost expert on magical creatures?
If this story got out... well, fate truly works in mysterious ways.
"Huh? That little wizard didn't seem like the type who would abuse magical creatures, right?" Tina was clearly stunned after hearing Nicolas Flamel's words.
"Yeah, the Bowtruckle was well taken care of by him. I can guarantee it was never mistreated," Newt Scamander spoke with conviction when it came to his area of expertise.
"It's true, he wasn't stingy with feeding it and clearly liked magical creatures… but didn't you notice that Bowtruckle was full of fear and anxiety inside?"
Nicolas Flamel sighed helplessly.
"Hm?"
Newt Scamander furrowed his brow. "I did notice that, actually. But when I found the little guy, it was trying to settle down under the Whomping Willow."
"I thought it had been rejected by the tree and got frightened by the Whomping Willow's temper," Newt explained how he had come across the Bowtruckle.
"Geez, that Bowtruckle clearly isn't behaving normally. Trying to live under that manic Whomping Willow? That thing must've been influenced by the little wizard's temperament," Nicolas Flamel said, thinking the creature had been affected by the wizard's personality.
His words only deepened Newt Scamander's confusion.
"I thought he was perfectly normal, well-mannered, polite, kind-hearted… and definitely not pretending like Voldemort. I can tell when someone's warmth is genuine or fake. Don't forget, from my perspective, humans are also a kind of magical creature." Newt's tone remained firm, obviously confident in this particular talent of his.
"You're not wrong," Nicolas Flamel nodded, "but that's exactly why I'm saying, that little guy doesn't think like us at all." Nicolas gave Newt Scamander a long, deep look. He hesitated for a moment but chose not to say the words: How do you even know that little wizard is human?
"That sounds like a bit of prejudice to me. I always thought you understood, there are no 'weird' people in this world, only narrow views and perspectives."
This might've been the most profound thing Newt Scamander had ever said in his life.
Just as he was about to continue his impassioned speech,
"He raises Dementors." Nicolas Flamel dropped the line like a bomb.
Newt Scamander instantly fell silent.
"What? Did you say… Dementors? We didn't mishear you, did we?" Tina and Queenie both jolted, their eyes widening until they looked like they might pop out of their heads.
"He even trains Dementors to brew potions for him, act as tailors to make new clothes. Oh, and he has a Phoenix too, its cry is chilling, and it doesn't eat rare herbs… it devours the souls of dark wizards."
Nicolas Flamel casually added, "Oh, and recently, he dug something up from someone else's grave and is secretly raising it in the Room of Requirement."
"That grave is at least a few thousand years old. So… what do you think he dug up?" Nick's every word hit the trio harder than the last.
"…"
"…"
"…"
Newt Scamander, along with his wife and sister-in-law, all had extremely vivid expressions on their faces. Especially Newt, he'd thought he was being modest by calling the magical creatures he raised "little ones."
He didn't expect, he really didn't expect that!
That the seemingly harmless little wizard from before was truly the modest one! Raising Dementors and ghosts and casually calling them "little creatures"… Now Newt finally understood why that little wizard had customized such a dark, gloomy suitcase environment!
Turns out all the "creatures" he was raising were real, literal monsters!
"…I admit I might've been a tiny bit loud just now. Turns out I was the narrow-minded one." Newt Scamander's self-awareness was impressively high.
However, he still couldn't quite accept that someone actually raised those things! For a moment, Newt felt like he was finally experiencing how others must have looked at him all these years.
"Did you say… he dug the time sand out of a grave?" Suddenly, Tina seemed to realize something and blurted out a question for Nicolas Flamel.
"He didn't tell you?" Nicolas Flamel asked, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "He dug up Merlin's grave."
Nicolas Flamel seemed absolutely convinced, only Merlin's grave could possibly produce so many absurdly extraordinary treasures in a row.
(To Be Continued…)