France, the Flamel family home.
Kyle had slept for almost an entire day and night before finally waking in the early hours of the third day.
The moment he opened his eyes, he saw a House-elf holding a bottle full of potion, preparing to pour it into his mouth.
"Oh, you're awake." A familiar voice came from beside him.
Nicolas Flamel walked over in small steps, a book tucked in his arms. "Yesterday, I saw someone break into my library, so I guessed it had to be you.
"How do you feel? Tata is holding an Invigoration Potion. Drink it—it'll do you good."
"Ah, thank you." Kyle did not hesitate. He took the potion and poured it into his mouth.
A warm current flowed down his throat and spread through his limbs, restoring some of his strength. His muddled mind also became much clearer at once.
"You're welcome. It's only an Invigoration Potion." Nicolas smiled.
"It's not just the potion." Kyle shook his head and picked up the ruined Portkey he had set aside earlier. "Thanks to this, I was able to escape... Nicolas, did you know all along that Voldemort would hunt me down in the Hebrides?"
"What..." Nicolas froze for a moment, then quickly shook his head. "Of course not. You give me far too much credit. I'm merely an alchemist—how could I possibly know what would happen six or seven years later?"
"But I remember that you have a crystal ball." Kyle blinked.
Everyone who knew Nicolas knew that he possessed a special crystal ball with a prophecy success rate of nearly one hundred percent.
"Oh, that one." Nicolas smiled. "That crystal ball was created three hundred years ago by seven of the most famous Seers and myself. But it can only predict things related to me,