Hogwarts: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me From Studying-Chapter 628 - 19: Inheritance Distribution

In the following time, Vid continued to help Nicolas Flamel and Pernell organize their various collections, which Flamel unabashedly referred to as "inheritance."

"Come to think of it, we’re really lucky." Pernell, sitting in an armchair covered with a blanket and holding a cup of hot tea, smiled and said, "Many people don’t have this opportunity!"

"These things help me recall the times we walked together." Flamel, holding Pernell’s hand, smiled and said, "I found the ebony pipe you gave me; I remember that was my three hundred and eightieth birthday gift."

"Ah, I remember the tail was inlaid with a piece of amber." Pernell also said in a reminiscent tone, "You liked it very much and used it for many years."

"When I found it, there was still a bit of tobacco in the bowl! But with just a touch, it all crumbled." Flamel said regretfully.

The two sat on the balcony, their bodies closely leaning on each other, chatting about some small yet precious fragments from their memories.

Perhaps because life is inevitably coming to an end, this couple, who had been together for over six hundred years, now had endless things to say, but Pernell was in poor spirits and always fell asleep while talking.

At this time, Flamel would help her tuck in the blanket, smooth her hair, silently accompany his wife for a while, and then sort out the clutter together with Vid—though even picking up a thicker book felt strenuous to him now, requiring him to rest after a few minutes.

Over more than six centuries, Flamel received so many Christmas gifts he couldn’t keep count of them. All kinds of magic items, rare materials, priceless paintings and jewels... even if he didn’t deliberately collect them, a lot accumulated.

He and Pernell had no descendants, but many friends; Flamel also had deep connections with several magic schools, especially Beauxbatons, his alma mater.

Thus, most of the sorted relics were to be given to Flamel’s friends, including certain magical creatures.

From the west to the east, from mountains to oceans, even the Arctic had friends of this wizard, which astonished even himself when counted.

Some items were to be donated to magic schools, hospitals, or certain institutions, even including several Muggle universities and museums.

Some, Flamel wanted to leave to the house-elf who had cared for the couple for many years. Though not numerous, they had moved the house-elf to tears.

"After I die, I hope you can take over them."

Flamel held Vid’s hand and said, "A house-elf without a master is worse off than a stray dog on the streets. But even more, I don’t want them to fall into the hands of unscrupulous wizards, treated as if enslaved."

"Milo and the others are lovely and sensible house-elves, and even know some alchemy; they will surely be of help to you."

"Please rest assured," Vid promised, "I will take good care of them."

"Ah... I trust you."

Flamel smiled and said, "I heard you took in a house-elf and treated him like your own family. That’s also why I decided to entrust Milo and the others to you."

"But no need for wages and clothes, Vid... You’d frighten them; not every house-elf is filled with a spirit of freedom and resistance."

There were some inheritances Flamel intended to take into his grave, such as the pipe Pernell had given him.

This part of the inheritance had no monetary value, but for Flamel, each piece held their precious memories, considered priceless treasures.

Vid packed the last box, and a green quill flew over, writing the recipient’s name and address in rapid strokes, then a house-elf placed it on the shelf.

On the walnut wood bookshelf stretching to the ceiling, there were already hundreds of similar boxes, looking only the size of a regular shoebox, and weren’t heavy as if they only contained a sweater inside.

Of course, the contents these disposable magic boxes could hold were far more than their exterior appeared, some capable of instantly filling a classroom once the seal on top was torn off.

Flamel had already contacted the Owl Post Office in advance; these boxes would be sent out at the agreed time—the time after Flamel passed away.

Regarding those gifts for Muggle friends or institutions, Vid recently contacted a Muggle logistics company, and they used several trucks to haul away all the packages.

Things slowly dwindled, and the rooms once overflowing with possessions now appeared somewhat empty. Eventually, besides the usual furniture, no extra items could be seen.

Of course, Flamel kept Vid around not only to help with the work. Throughout the process of organizing collections, Flamel spoke about various contemplations on alchemy, as gently as a spring breeze that transforms rain.

He never mentioned the knowledge already written in books, instead sharing more about the creation processes of alchemy items, akin to how to transform a wasteland into an oasis; sometimes he simply talked about element transformation and transcendence, the forging of life forms, thoughts on time and space, and the mysteries of the universe.

"Vid, those seemingly remarkable alchemies are actually mostly no different from us enchanting a cup with a Scouring Charm."

Once during a break, Flamel said casually, "The most profound alchemy is the transformation and unity of soul, spirit, and magic power."

"I don’t understand, sir." Vid said, "Do you mean... human alchemy?"

"No... you don’t need to understand...." Flamel seemed to have misspoken, quickly adding, "Pursuing primal knowledge is very dangerous; its answers will only bring destruction."

Vid thoughtfully nodded.

Flamel did not leave any gold or silver treasures or powerful alchemy items to Vid, except for a box of alchemy materials.

Of course, though said to be "a box," the capacity of magic world boxes was naturally substantial.

"Child, tangible treasure will bring you calamity; knowledge is the greatest treasure I leave you."

Flamel said gently, "Knowledge is freedom, yet also a burden, the most wondrous alchemy."

"It can bring power and wealth, turn ordinary stones into gold, and empower one to become the master of their own fate. Once possessed, no one can ever take this treasure from your hands."

"But you must also understand its dangers, Vid—I’ve seen many clever people whose accumulation of knowledge only made them more like madmen, turning their learning into tools for their own destruction."

He paused, took a long, deep breath, and then said, tiredly, "Vid, remember—never become Icarus."