Professor McGonagall had once worked at the Ministry of Magic, but it was a miserable memory.
She hated the discrimination and prejudice those people showed toward Muggles because she loved her Muggle father.
Even so, she didn't hate the Ministry of Magic, so she scoffed at Master Flamel's words.
"Of course you can disagree with me." Master Flamel smiled at Professor McGonagall. "But they've never done anything good. They even came up with that thing called the International Statute of Secrecy. Damn it, we used to be so free."
Voldemort nodded with a smile. He felt he and Master Flamel got along very well.
Or perhaps he might have gotten along even better with the savage world of several centuries ago.
"Nicol, I think you should rest."
Dumbledore spoke up. Clearly, he didn't want Nicolas Flamel to stay here any longer.
"Yes, quite right."
Master Flamel didn't refuse. He slowly rose to his feet. "We keep wandering down the wrong paths, Tom. Living a long life is harder than we imagine, but whatever happens, keep going."
"I will, Master Flamel," Voldemort said.
Master Flamel nodded, then reached into his robes and rummaged around for a while before finally pulling out a brass key.
"Whatever door you put it in, when you open it, you'll find my home on the other side."
He handed the key to Voldemort and added, "I might not be there, but the portraits can call out to me for you. Understand?"
"I understand, Master."
Master Flamel nodded, gave Dumbledore a gesture, then tottered toward Filch's office nearby.
"I managed to protect my soul and my life, but I couldn't protect my body. It's too old. It's held me back on the path to immortality."
He sighed as he reached the door, took a golden key from