Experience Trumps Youth

When Dumbledore hurried over, he saw Wes standing all alone amid the devastated ruins at a glance.

Moonlight poured down like water, outlining his figure in stark loneliness.

"You're late, Headmaster."

Wes stared straight at Dumbledore with a shadowy gaze, his tone carrying an unmistakable hint of reproach.

"Don't you have an explanation? What appeared tonight was certainly no ordinary poacher."

Wes fixed his eyes on Dumbledore, trying to pry something out of him.

Dumbledore did not explain immediately. He first carefully examined the chaotic traces of battle around them, then turned to Wes and said with great admiration, "Your strength has truly astounded me, Mr. Erwin."

"I need an explanation, Headmaster Dumbledore. This is completely different from the situation you described before."

Wes clearly had no interest in Dumbledore's flattery. His eyes were as sharp as blades as he stared directly at him.

"Yes," Dumbledore said gently, sensing Wes's agitation. "I will give you a satisfactory answer. But let us leave this place first. That fierce battle just now has alerted the Centaur Tribe, and I would rather not get into an unnecessary argument with them in the middle of the night."

Wes gave a slight nod in agreement.

The two then returned together to the Headmaster's Office.

"Can you tell me now, Headmaster?"

Wes sat in the chair opposite Dumbledore with a dark expression.

"Hmm... where should I begin?" Dumbledore stroked his long beard thoughtfully.

"How about starting with that Senior who died eleven years ago?"

Wes watched Dumbledore's expression closely, seemingly unwilling to miss even the slightest change in his face.

At those words, Dumbledore's hand froze halfway through stroking his beard.

His expression immediately turned grave. "What exactly do you know?"

At that moment, Headmaster Dumbledore was like a lion defending his territory with all his might.

Though this lion had entered his twilight years, his unfathomable strength had not weakened in the slightest with the passage of time. Instead, it had become ever more seasoned with age.

"How frightening, Headmaster."

Wes, on the other hand, remained remarkably calm, completely unfazed by Dumbledore's imposing presence.

"Are you threatening me, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore swiftly returned to his usual kind and gentle appearance. Smiling, he said, "How could I be? I'm merely a little nervous."

Wes knew perfectly well that Dumbledore's words were nothing more than a casual excuse, and he did not believe them at all.

Still, he knew that Dumbledore was not his enemy, and he hoped to gain some benefits from him as well, such as more advanced magical knowledge...

With that in mind, Wes revealed part of the truth.

"I only know that Senior seemed to have been searching tirelessly for the Philosopher's Stone."

"The Philosopher's Stone... hahaha... of course it was the Philosopher's Stone. What else could it have been for?" Then Dumbledore changed the subject. "But your strength astonishes me as well, Wes. Until now, no one has managed to escape from his hands unscathed."

"It's nothing remarkable. He's already weakened to the extreme."

Wes spoke calmly, as though it were nothing worth making a fuss over.

"Even so, many people would not have had the courage to raise a hand against him..."

Dumbledore did not stint on his praise, trying to ease the somewhat tense atmosphere.

Wes impatiently raised a hand to stop him. "Headmaster, even if you praise me as Merlin reborn, it won't cover up your mistake in this matter."

"Yes... yes... let me think carefully about how I should compensate you..."

Dumbledore furrowed his brows deeply, as though lost in profound thought.

Seeing that Dumbledore was still playing dumb, Wes simply stated his demand bluntly. "I want the Philosopher's Stone."

"Impossible." Dumbledore refused without hesitation, leaving no room for negotiation.

"Though the Philosopher's Stone is incomparably miraculous, its side effects are equally terrifying... Wes, you are still young. There are many things you have yet to experience, and you cannot yet understand the dangers involved..."

Dumbledore went on at length, trying to persuade Wes to abandon this unrealistic notion.

"Then what about Nicolas Flamel's Alchemy notes? They must be in your possession. As Nicolas Flamel's only close friend, he would surely entrust the insights of his entire life to you for safekeeping."

Wes knew very well that Dumbledore would never easily hand over the Philosopher's Stone. His earlier demand had merely been a test.

"You are far too greedy, Wes. That is a priceless alchemical tome that everyone dreams of possessing."

Dumbledore's eyes widened as he looked at Wes in astonishment.

"I just saved two students and a Unicorn from Voldemort, whom everyone fears!!"

Wes grew agitated, and his voice rose involuntarily.

"No..." Dumbledore shook his head repeatedly.

"One of those students is the savior of the British Wizarding World!!"

Wes raised his voice again, his words fierce.

"If people learned that Voldemort was still alive, do you understand how enormous the panic would be, Headmaster Dumbledore?!" There was an obvious trace of threat in Wes's voice.

Dumbledore was so angered that his beard bristled and his eyes widened, his expression extremely ugly.

But Wes knew that this was merely an act the old man was putting on.

"Headmaster, I solved a tremendous problem for you."

Wes crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Dumbledore firmly.

Wes continued, "Don't tell me you didn't know that Voldemort was parasitizing Professor Quirrell, trying to use the power of the Philosopher's Stone to revive himself."

"You discovered it long ago." Dumbledore stared sharply at Wes.

Of course, Wes could not possibly say that he knew all this because he had read Harry Potter.

He could only make up an excuse. "Quirrell's disguise was far too clumsy. It could only fool those simple-minded students."

Dumbledore sighed helplessly. "You have persuaded me, Wes."

With that, he turned and walked to the chest behind him, carefully taking out an enormous book.

The book was tightly protected by a complex and intricate mechanism.

Dumbledore softly recited an incantation, and the mechanism opened.

He gently stroked the cover and said wistfully, "When Nicolas entrusted the Philosopher's Stone to me, he also entrusted this book to me. Then he left with his wife to arrange their final affairs. I suppose that will be the last time we see each other in this lifetime."

Wes had no interest whatsoever in the story between the two men. His gaze was completely drawn to Nicolas Flamel's Alchemy notes.

This was the life's work of an Alchemist more than six hundred years old.

Under Wes's incredulous gaze, Dumbledore carefully put the notes back into the chest and closed the mechanism.

Then he took a thick stack of books from a nearby shelf and placed them on the desk.

Wes was instantly dumbfounded, at a complete loss.

"These are the Alchemy notes that Nicolas and I carefully compiled together," Dumbledore explained slowly, noticing Wes's confusion.

Wes quickly picked up one of the books and flipped through it. It contained detailed records of Nicolas Flamel's alchemical experiments and insights.

"All of these are?" Wes asked in surprise.

"That's right. Compiling these notes took a great deal of our time and effort. Fortunately, Nicolas's memory has not declined."

Dumbledore explained with a smile.

"So you had prepared for this long ago." Wes suddenly understood.

"Not exactly." A sly smile appeared on Dumbledore's face. "Nicolas has long wanted to pass down his alchemy."

"Several outstanding Alchemists in France have already received Nicolas's approval and successfully obtained the Alchemy notes, though the matter has not been made public."

"Nicolas has entrusted me with finding some exceptional Alchemists in the British Wizarding World."

After hearing this, Wes wore an expression somewhere between laughter and tears.

"What are you waiting for? These books are yours now." As he spoke, Dumbledore had already leisurely settled back into his chair.

"You truly are cunning, Headmaster," Wes said helplessly.

"So are you, Mr. Erwin," Dumbledore replied with a smile.

Thank you all for your support.

Thanks~~