"Did Grandma Tina really say that?" Adam asked, looking glum.
"I at least saw the flames, which is why I came," Nicolas said with a smile. "Unfortunately, I ran into a bit of a hiccup along the way, or I would have been here sooner."
"...You don't actually think I set that manor on fire, do you?" Adam said after a moment of silence.
Nicolas looked at the dragon wagging its tail nearby, then back at the manor being consumed by the roaring blaze, and seemed to lose his words.
"My apologies, sir," Corinna broke the silence. "I am actually the owner of this manor. To escape from some dark wizards, I was the one who cast the fire spell. Adam just happened to arrive here."
When they turned back, they found Adam squatting on the ground, holding his head with a worried expression and muttering to himself.
The prejudice in a person's heart is like a Hogwarts castle—even if it's damaged, it will continuously repair itself.
Shirley stood beside him, gently stroking his hair and comforting him in a soft voice.
Nicolas was silent for a moment before saying, "My apologies, Adam. Perhaps you'd like to get a closer look at the airship? I remember last time you..."
Before he could finish, Adam sprang to his feet, brushed the dust from his robes, and pulled out a familiar toolbox. He looked at the airship with stars in his eyes.
As they walked towards the airship, Corinna quietly questioned Shirley behind them. In the wizarding world, after all, there were plenty of people who tried to trick others by using famous wizards' names, so Corinna had to be cautious.
Not long ago, she had spent several hundred Galleons searching for information about Dumbledore on the black market, but most of what she received was false. The most ridiculous claim was from someone who swore he had seen Dumbledore in the mountains of Norway just two days prior.
Corinna had sent him away on the spot. Other members of the Order had told her more than once that Nurmengard was located in that very region; there was no way Dumbledore would ever be there.
When Shirley pulled a Chocolate Frog card out of her pocket, Corinna's expression froze.
The portrait of the old man on the card perfectly matched the white-haired old wizard not far away. She stared at Nicolas, then looked at Adam, her pupils dilating in shock.
When they arrived beneath the airship, the house-elf in the flying jacket was standing on top of the cockpit, using a mechanical arm to repair the claw marks on the hull.
"It is a great pleasure to see you again, Mr. Adam," the house-elf excitedly waved at him.
Adam's mouth twitched. He remembered the airship looking exactly like this the last time he saw it.
"This is the second time I've been attacked in the air," Nicolas explained to Adam. "That little fellow seems to have a bit of a temper. Luckily, I took the time to make a small modification to the airship last time, and it just circled for a bit before leaving."
As he spoke, he gestured, and a network of intricate runes appeared on the surface of the airship.
Adam blinked, pointing at the dozen or so deep claw marks with edges as smooth as glass. "Are you sure it was a 'little fellow'?" he whispered.
"Certainly," Nicolas said, taking out a small silver flask from his robes and twisting its cap. "Although I couldn't get a clear look from inside the airship, this gadget of mine recorded it for me."
The little silver flask made a "whirring" sound, and a stream of silvery vapor rose from its mouth, gradually forming a cloud of mist.
The cloud quickly showed a scene from the past. As the airship floated slowly above the forest, a blurry shadow suddenly broke through the clouds and swooped down from high in the sky. From the perspective of the cockpit, the shadow looked like an aerial scalpel, precisely cutting across the weakest part of the airship.
"A Thunderbird?" Adam asked with a frown.
"I don't believe so," Nicolas replied. "An adult Thunderbird can reach fifteen feet in length, and their three pairs of wings are even more spectacular. This creature was much faster and far smaller."
"But I didn't see it on my way here. Is it only interested in hunting larger creatures?"
Adam looked up at the claw marks, feeling a sense of déjà vu. However, many magical creatures could leave similar marks, making it difficult to identify.
"Perhaps. But I lean toward another theory: that this little creature is attempting to complete some kind of challenge. We should tell Newt about this; I'm sure he would know what to do."
Nicolas twisted the cap of the silver flask again, and the cloud of mist dissipated into the air. Noticing Adam's intrigued gaze, he said kindly, "This is one of Albus's creations, a very useful alchemical tool that can record events from a specific time period. I often use it to catch up on brilliant operas I've accidentally missed. It's saved me from quite a few regrets."
"It's like a Pensieve?" Adam asked, remembering the silver basin in the Headmaster's office.
Nicolas shook his head, rubbing the decorative patterns on the flask's surface as the runes beneath them glowed into view. He explained carefully, "The most important function of a Pensieve is to store and sort through memories. I believe Hogwarts has one that has been passed down for a thousand years, holding snippets of life experiences and valuable lessons from every Headmaster. This device, however, doesn't require you to have witnessed the events yourself. It can record things from anywhere, as long as it's supplied with magic."
Adam carefully took the small silver flask. Dumbledore had once mentioned that when he first met Nicolas as a young man, his excitement and handshake almost caused the old wizard his most serious injury in decades.
The flask was covered in a complex array of runes. At his current skill level, Adam could only hope to copy them. To create a similar alchemical artifact on his own would take a very long time.
Nicolas looked over at the distant manor, where Corinna was extinguishing the flames and Shirley was directing a few black knights to clear the rubble. Suddenly, his gaze settled on the fountain, as if he had discovered something very interesting. A smile appeared on his face, and he turned to Adam.
"I was struggling with what to get you for Christmas, but now it seems I've found just the thing you need."
Adam looked up, puzzled, as Nicolas handed him an old book. The cover was faded and cracked, the corners worn to a pale white, with the title written in runes: The Tales of Beedle the Bard.
"Thank you, but..."
Adam was about to speak, but Nicolas raised a hand to stop him. His eyes fell on the book, and he said with a knowing look, "When I was young, like Albus, I chased after certain lofty, abstract things. It took me decades to understand one truth during my long life. What truly benefited me was never the result of the quest, but the process of that exploration filled with unknowns."
He paused, a flash of regret in his eyes, and his voice softened. "But I truly hope you can find the answer. It would be like fulfilling a wish from my own youth."
Just then, the house-elf on top of the cockpit expertly leaped down. Its goggles swayed with the movement, and it looked up at Nicolas. "Sir! The damage to the airship has been repaired! We are ready to depart!"
The fleeting regret in Nicolas's eyes vanished. He looked at Adam with a kind smile.
"Fancy a visit to my home? I have a feeling you'd enjoy the experience of piloting the airship yourself."