"Silan, you'd better study hard after you get to Nicolas Flamel's place."
George helped Silan carry her suitcase downstairs.
Fred continued, "Yes, we're counting on you to come back and teach us, so we can grow bigger and stronger..."
Molly peeked out from the kitchen, remotely instructing George and Fred: "Alright, put your luggage down and come eat. Breakfast is ready."
As soon as Silan sat down at the table, Molly brought him a sumptuous breakfast.
Golden-brown sausages, a crisp and refreshing salad, some thick Steak, and a large glass of freshly squeezed Pumpkin Juice.
Molly sat across from Silan, and just watching him eat filled her with an indescribable sense of happiness.
I've prepared some snacks for you and put them next to your Suitcase. Remember to take them.
Remember to take good care of yourself while you're away.
"I see you have an owl; you can have it deliver letters if you need anything."
As Molly watched Silan eat, she chattered on and on like a parent worried about their child's departure.
As Dumbledore entered, he took a piece of pastry from the bag of snacks Molly had packed, popped it into his mouth, chewed it, and swallowed it.
"Don't worry, Molly, he's only gone for a week, he'll be back soon." Dumbledore nodded. "The snacks were quite good."
After dinner, Molly reluctantly saw Silan off at the door, giving him a big hug before leaving.
"Good girl, you must tell your aunt if anything happens. I'll always be on your side," Molly said, kissing Silan's cheek.
"Don't worry, Auntie, I'll be back soon."
George and Fred had somehow climbed onto the roof, waving their arms at Silan and shouting, "Goodbye, Silan! We'll be waiting for you at home!"
Faced with the enthusiastic Weasley family, Dumbledore simply watched quietly without disturbing them.
After they had said their goodbyes, Dumbledore extended his arm to Silan.
"Grab it, child."
The moment Silan grasped Dumbledore's wrist, she only saw his lips twitch slightly, and then a powerful suction force appeared out of nowhere, pulling him and Silan in together.
The sensation of Apparition is like being inside a running washing machine. The narrow pipes squeeze you into a strip, then violently spin and tumble you around.
Fortunately, this feeling didn't last long, Silan quickly felt normal again.
"Take a deep breath, child. Dizziness is normal." Dumbledore patted him on the back. "Rest for a bit. I'll go find the Portkey."
Silan then realized that she and Dumbledore hadn't gone very far.
The Apparition on Stoatshead Hill.
From his vantage point, one can see the Burrow and several other oddly shaped houses.
"Come on, son," Dumbledore called to him, "We need to use this Portkey; you might need some getting used to it."
Silan, somewhat puzzled, "Can't we just Apparition there?"
"Of course," Dumbledore smiled warmly, "But Apparition is a bit dangerous, and I'm not entirely comfortable taking a child like you with me, and besides... it's not very comfortable, is it?"
Recalling the feeling of crawling into the washing machine, Silan nodded in agreement.
"The Ministry of Magic has placed 200 Portkey across England, and there just happens to be one on Stoatshead Hill," Dumbledore explained as they walked. "You can try it out."
Floo Powder, Apparition, Broomstick, and Portkey — Silan has tried almost every mainstream wizarding travel method.
The Portkey on Stoatshead Hill is an old boot.
Dumbledore, somewhat comically, tugged at the edge of the boot. "Come on, grab it."
Silan gripped the high top of the boot with her fingers.
"3, 2, 1..."
Dumbledore read out the last number, Silan suddenly felt a hook pull up to his navel, lifting him off the ground and into the air with a whirlwind.
They are going to Paris France this time.
Because the distance is too far, a single Portkey cannot deliver them directly.
Silan and Dumbledore had to repeatedly use the Portkey to move around before they finally crossed the border, and it wasn't until nearly noon that they reached their destination.
As they approached the old stone house, the bustling traffic and noise of the street suddenly disappeared, as if they had never existed.
Although located in the heart of the city, this house is secluded and Silencio.
Before entering, Dumbledore turned back and reminded Silan, "You'd better be gentle when you shake hands later, after all, Nicolas Flamel is getting old..."
Silan nodded in understanding.
Osteoporosis is very common in older adults.
After Dumbledore knocked on the door, slow footsteps echoed inside.
"Oh, it's Albus, you've come." Nicolas Flamel gently opened the door. "Come in."
"Come on, child," Dumbledore said, turning around.
When Silan stepped inside, she discovered that the space was quite large, clearly due to the use of Undetectable Extension Charm.
The furnishings inside, both in style and craftsmanship, are very ancient, like a stubborn rock frozen in the river of time.
"You must be Silan Prewett." Nicolas Flamel took small steps toward Silan, bowed, and extended his hand. "I am Nicolas Flamel. You can just call me Nicolas Flamel; that's what my friends call me."
"Professor Nicolas Flamel..."
Silan hesitated for a moment, but still addressed him respectfully as "Professor," after all, he was here to learn.
"He's a polite boy, Nicolas Flamel." Dumbledore brought him a chair.
"Obviously, thank you, Albus." Nicolas Flamel sat down and gestured for the two of them to sit as well. "Please sit down, don't be shy."
"Where is Perenelle Flamel?" Dumbledore asked.
"She's gone back to Devon," Nicolas Flamel replied. "Would you like something to drink?"
"Black Tea, please." Dumbledore shrugged. "This is the first time a friend has let me in since summer vacation started."
"Every summer, they either disappear or refuse my visits, as if I bring them bad news."
Nicolas Flamel chuckled. "Don't worry, Albus, I think your friends will invite you over for tea as soon as school starts."
Silan sat obediently to the side, thinking to herself, "Every summer you have to conscript people to find a new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor."
"Moreover, almost every professor who taught the course ended up in a bad situation. Over time, who would dare to open the door for you during the summer vacation?"
After exchanging pleasantries for a while, Dumbledore to take his leave.
"Although I'd love to stay a little longer, I need to find a new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor."
"Has someone already been chosen?" Silan asked, feigning ignorance.
"Ha ha." Dumbledore laughed with a hint of smugness. "This time, Madam Pomfrey won't be able to scold me. I can guarantee that the new professor will not be Death Eaters, nor a Dark Wizard. I promise."
Silan thought, "That's true. Lockhart, to put it nicely, is a 'master of the Obliviate,' to put it bluntly, a 'hypocritical imposter.' But at least he's not Death Eaters or a dark wizard."
In his search for Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Dumbledore practically scoured the world for talent.
Goodbye, child; goodbye, Nicolas Flamel.
Dumbledore finished his Black Tea, said goodbye to the two of them, and walked out the door.
After he left, the room became quiet.
Silan was tempted to activate his Wizard's Eye and take a look at Nicolas Flamel's blue bar.