The mysteries of alchemy

Cyrus discovered something strange almost as soon as he picked up the book.

It was made of neither paper nor parchment. The words and illustrations inside had not been drawn on, but seemed to have been branded into it with metal. The book was thin, with only twenty-one pages, yet the page numbers in the corners did not follow the usual sequence.

Instead, a "seven" appeared only once every seven pages, three in all.

According to the common understanding of the wizarding world, "seven" was indeed a magical number. In fact, Hogwarts had a course that specifically covered this magical number, and Voldemort was particularly fond of seven as well.

In alchemy, however, "three" was also a magical number.

As for the contents of the book, he could not understand them at all.

The knowledge Voldemort possessed in his fifth year seemed rather shallow in the face of more profound learning. Even Nicolas Flamel, who had received a revelation in a dream, had spent twenty-eight years unraveling the book's mysteries.

Cyrus closed The Book of the Jew Abraham and looked around beside it. Sure enough, he found another book-

Nicolas Flamel's manuscript, The Book of Hieroglyphic Symbols.

By comparison, this book was impressively thick. Cyrus casually turned a few pages, and an already-opened letter slipped out.

"To Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

"My dear Albus,

"After an exceedingly long life-more than six centuries-dragging along our worn-out bodies, Perenelle and I feel no fear at the prospect of death. We both believe that, upon hearing of our deaths, people will inevitably mourn the end of our lives and covet our immense wealth. Everyone except you, Albus!

"We both believe that death is merely another adventure, and Perenelle and I are already far too late in embarking upon it.

"Before departing, I am sending you the two most important books of my life as a token of remembrance for a friend more than five hundred years my junior, yet whose wisdom more than matches my own. Incidentally, I have left my other assets to Beauxbatons. I hope you will not mind. Of course, I know full well that Albus Dumbledore has never had the slightest interest in such things.

"I would not dare claim to have fully unraveled the mysteries of The Book of the Jew Abraham. Though this book, which I foresaw in a dream, contains only a handful of pages, it holds true wisdom and truth. I hope you will keep it safe. Better still, perhaps you might uncover all its secrets.

"However, we both know how difficult that would be. From our first meeting through the days of our close collaboration, exploring the secrets of magic and alchemy, you read this book countless times without making any progress. I am quite willing to believe that, since it found me through a prophecy, fate may yet carry it to where it belongs.

"Now, because of Voldemort, I have resolved to entrust the Philosopher's Stone to you. Perhaps this itself is a sign-

"That said, Perenelle and I have actually kept a considerable supply of the Elixir of Life, so please do not worry about us.

"P.S. I believe we shall meet again very soon."

Cyrus folded the letter, finally understanding what had happened.

Someone as terrified of death as Riddle would certainly have claimed this book for himself if he had known it existed. Yet Riddle has no memory of it whatsoever. That's because Dumbledore only put it in the Restricted Section last year.

The envelope had already been opened, which meant Dumbledore had read the letter Nicolas Flamel had left him. He knew these two books were gifts from Nicolas, yet had no intention of keeping them for himself. Instead, he had selflessly placed them in the Restricted Section, waiting for the "sign from fate" Nicolas had mentioned.

Could that sign actually be me? Cyrus could not help indulging in a little vanity.

Whatever the case, he was unwilling to pass up these two books.

If he really could create a Philosopher's Stone, it would be a great help in restoring him to life. Even if he could only produce inferior versions, as long as they could replenish life force, they would greatly reduce the harm to Ginny.

With that in mind, Cyrus quickly leafed through both books, selecting a few other works on alchemy as well, hoping they would help him draw connections.

Voldemort was actually highly skilled in alchemy. Not only had he earned his N.E.W.T. with excellent marks, but he had also spent some time working at Borgin's shop after graduation. However, that was Tom Riddle after graduating, not the fifth-year Tom Riddle he was now.

"Islamic alchemy and the Kabbalistic tree of life mentions a wizard called Hohenheim, another wizard said to have possessed a Philosopher's Stone. Whether that's actually true is still uncertain." Cyrus rapidly flipped through its pages.

He was rather pleased to be in the form of a memory now. Otherwise, there would have been no way to memorize all these books in such a short time.

Precisely because of his unusual state, the Diary effectively served as another precious Pensieve. Any book he leafed through would be recorded as images. He could simply record their contents first, then take his time analyzing them once he returned.

Of course, this would not actually reduce the time he needed to study. It was merely a relatively safer approach.

"The ancient Egyptian alchemical text, the Emerald Tablet, also offers something worth considering: to accomplish the miracle of the one thing, understand that what is above is like what is below, and what is below is like what is above."

"What is the one thing, then?"

Besides this copy of the Emerald Tablet, another book lay nearby-the Book of Thoth, which had deep ties to the Emerald Tablet. Cyrus opened that one as well.

For now, he did not seek a thorough understanding. He was practically swallowing the material whole, taking only a rough look to determine whether he needed it before immediately deciding whether to set it aside or record it.

Gradually, Cyrus became engrossed, until a piercing rooster's crow outside the castle brought him back to his senses. Only then did he realize that dawn was almost upon him.

"I'd better get back quickly-I meant to find some powerful books on dark magic and see whether I could improve my strength, but I ended up spending the whole night reading about alchemy..." Cyrus shook his head. Yet, tireless as he was now, he felt no regret at all. He was simply waiting to return this body to Ginny so that he could continue slowly digesting that knowledge within the memory space.

He strode briskly through the corridors of Hogwarts. Outside the castle, the sky was still dark, though it had begun to pale in the east.

"Oh, right. I need to kill the roosters soon, too."

Cyrus had already killed one rooster, but he did not dare kill them all at once. That would have been far too suspicious.