Months had passed, and Noah was back at the Gray Mansion.
He slept peacefully, a faint smile on his face as if dreaming of something pleasant.
In his dream, he was soaring across the skies, the wind rushing against his face, the whole world beneath his feet. He felt free. He felt powerful.
Unfortunately, the dream didn't last. He woke up by falling face-first onto the floor.
"I'll just sleep on the floor next time," he grumbled, deciding that dragging his mattress down there might not be a bad idea after all.
Since he was already on the floor, he didn't get up right away. Instead, he started doing push-ups. His frail, childish body didn't last long—by the third push-up his arms were already trembling.
Giving up on push-ups, he went to run up and down the mansion's stairs a few times, and stopped only when his legs began to shake as well. After a shower and a quick meal, he rushed back to his room and grabbed a book from the Mind Arts series.
"Reading minds is like exploring a realm of secrets and illusions, where everything is shallow. It is within memories that reality becomes an illusion, and illusions carry reality. An endless pursuit of the demons inside each mind, and the ceaseless hunt for truth. A single memory can carry emotions beyond measure—anger, hatred, joy, sorrow. Every memory is born carrying a feeling."
"Reading thoughts is easy. Reading memories is not."
At that moment, someone knocked on the door. A few seconds later, his mother walked in.
"What are you studying?" she asked, sitting down beside him.
"I'm going to learn how to read minds," he answered with a smile.
His mother looked surprised. "Isn't that… unnecessary?"
Noah raised a brow. She had never stopped him from studying the Mind Arts before. Why now?
"Why would it be? It's just magic, isn't it?"
"Yes, but it's not a branch of magic that's… well regarded," she said softly, touching his cheek.
"Learning Occlumency is essential. Even if you hadn't picked it up on your own, we would've taught you once you grew older. But Legilimency? Almost no wizard these days practices it."
Noah closed the book. To him, his mother's words sounded naïve—almost foolish.
Who cared if it wasn't well regarded?
Who cared if mediocre wizards ignored it?
Most of them couldn't even perform wandless magic. Should he give that up too?
He had read enough history books in the library, and he still carried his own memories. He knew well how battles between powerful wizards unfolded.
Just in the last century, the wizarding world had endured two great wars. Do you know what the leaders of both sides had in common? Both were brilliant wizards. Both were Legilimens. Both cared only for power.
Even if one was powerful, without strong Occlumency defenses, facing such wizards could end the duel before it even began.
Noah knew all this. He wanted to tell his mother, but there were always things he kept only in his thoughts and plans, not in his words.
So he simply smiled, squeezing her hand. "Don't worry. I'll just study a little. Think of it as… curious reading."
Laura smiled at her son, relief softening her face. She pinched his nose before asking what she truly came for.
"Do you still remember what we talked about last week?"
Noah rubbed his nose and grinned. Word for word.
"It's a hard choice," he admitted. "I've heard so many good things about Beauxbatons—from you, Dad, Nick, even Penny."
He paused, watching his mother's face, which looked strangely relieved.
"But…" he sighed, noticing how she was already expecting his answer.
"You want to go to Hogwarts," she said.
Noah nodded.
"May I know why?" she asked curiously.
Noah didn't hesitate. "Because that's where the greatest wizard of this century is."
His mother smirked and ruffled his hair. "Do you admire him? Nick must talk about him a lot. They're good friends."
"He does. He always compares me to him." Noah paused before asking, "Do you think Grandpa will be fine with me going to Hogwarts? He doesn't seem very keen on letting me study in the UK."
Laura shook her head. "He met your grandmother there, you know. He always loved the place. But these past years…"
"He hates the war?" Noah asked, and she nodded.
"Yes."
"Then he won't like me going to Hogwarts?"
She chuckled. "He studied there himself. He'll love it. And to make sure nothing happens to you, we'll be moving to the UK as well. He already guessed your answer. The trip is scheduled for a few months from now."
Noah's eyes widened. "Seriously? That's amazing!"
The next day, Noah visited Nick and Penny. He stayed with them for several days, not studying, just chatting and "playing" with Nick's creations.
Penny, despite being over six hundred years old, shed tears and made him promise to write letters regularly. Noah happily agreed.
Nick had always known this day would come. Though he would've preferred Noah to study in France, he admitted that Hogwarts would be a fine "laboratory" for his young apprentice. The castle held many secrets, and Nick didn't know anyone more curious—or more passionate about pursuing magic and truth—than Noah.
Nick had also prepared a "graduation gift."
"I've got something for you, brat," he said, pulling something out of his pocket.
It was far too large to fit inside a shirt pocket, but in the wizarding world that wasn't so strange.
Noah stared, intrigued—it was a trunk. But of course, not an ordinary one. He didn't even need to use his right eye to know it was much more than it seemed.
Nick handed it over without opening it. "Open it at home. I don't want to listen to you thanking me for hours. And I really outdid myself this time."
Noah accepted it with a bright smile. "Thank you."
The two of them stood together on the balcony in silence. It was a funny sort of farewell. Noah would only be a Portkey away, yet the old alchemist still felt the sting of sadness, though he tried not to show it.
Rain poured heavily over Paris.
"I really hate the rain," Nick muttered.
Noah had spent most of the past years here, in the Flamels' home. Nick and Penny were his godparents—and to him, they were family.
But farewells were inevitable, and not worth tears. If he missed them, he could always find an excuse to sneak out of Hogwarts and visit.
"You know," Nick began, turning to him, "you're smart, and you like looking down on others."
Noah chuckled. "A little arrogant, you mean?"
"I'm serious, brat." Nick's voice hardened. "France is like an amusement park compared to the current state of Britain. Mark my words—the political struggle for power could turn that place into chaos in a few years."
"Isn't it a bit late to try convincing me not to go?" Noah raised an eyebrow.
"Why would I do that?" Nick laughed. "Quite the opposite. Dark times are coming—if I were a betting man, I'd say for certain. And in such times, only those with strength can survive. I've seen more wars than I ever wanted, and I've watched geniuses rise and fall. Do you know what every one of those who fell had in common?"
"Arrogance?"
"Yes. Arrogance." Nick folded his arms behind his back as he continued. "The worst kind—the arrogance that can't be backed up by power. You consider yourself strong, don't you?"
Noah nodded, expecting him to disagree.
It was strange, this conversation—an ancient man of over six hundred years speaking with a boy not yet eleven. Yet Nick often forgot Noah's age. More often than not, he spoke to him as an equal—a fellow wizard, a fellow alchemist. He knew how sharp Noah's mind was, how dangerously clever he could be. And though Nick pretended not to notice, he knew very well his young apprentice was a master manipulator, wearing different masks for different moments.
That was why Nick spoke seriously. To treat him as a fool would be an insult—and Nick was no fool.
"You are strong," Nick said in one breath. "I bet you could travel across this land and find very few wizards who could truly threaten you. But those with power equal to yours are more common than you think. You are strong—but you are young. There is a kind of strength only time can grant. Experience. So don't underestimate anyone. Got it?"
"I don't usually underestimate people," Noah defended himself. "And the way you're talking, it sounds like I'm heading into war, not the safest school in Britain."
"It's the only school in Britain."
The two stared at each other for a moment, then broke into smiles.
"I know all that," Noah said with a sigh. "I promise I'll be careful."
Nick looked at his student—so young, so bright—on that dark, rainy day.
His voice softened. "There's something else. Another thing all those fallen geniuses had in common. Do you know what it was?"
Noah frowned.
"They were alone." Nick's voice came with the cold wind, as the rain outside poured even harder.
"At the moment of their fall… every single one of them was alone."