Chapter 414: Herbal Growth

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20 May 1995, Hogwarts, Scotland

Before she could think on it further, a glowing white dove flew towards her and spoke in Harry's voice, "I found where the stone is. Come to the common room. We're leaving tonight." How about that, it looked like the rest of the day was going to be exciting after all.

It was after curfew that Daphne snuck down from her dormitory. She had been curious all day about where Harry found the Philosopher's Stone, as he told her earlier. The stone was an artefact, unlike anything that the world had ever seen. As much as people didn't like to talk about it, there were numerous attempts to steal it, and sometimes even wars were fought over it. France had become a bit of a magical hotspot ever since its existence spread out.

It was only Nicholas Flamel's ability in subterfuge that stopped them. The Alchemist left traps, made fake strongholds, and always seemed to know whenever someone was planning on attacking him. He made plans within plans, so much so that after centuries, people had essentially given up on it, bar a few idiots every once in a while. It didn't help that the Flamels tended to disappear for decades at a time, so tracking them down, alone, was a tedious endeavour.

Then again, who could blame them? The stone held the key to eternal youth and riches. With that alone, a magical nation could become a powerhouse in the international scene. That's not to mention the possibility of the stone being used as a weapon. The energy that experts theorized had to exist in it, could probably erase a small country from existence if released all at once.

It was a marvel of magical theory, and yet, now that she knew where it came from, and how it was made, Daphne couldn't help but feel like the mystery wasn't worth it. The stone wasn't the epitome of Alchemy. Sure, the magical container might have been, but the roots of its creation were based purely on blood magic. Sacrifice. Flamel sacrificed thousands of people, took their potential lifespan, and used it to power some transmutation array, one turning any liquid into a potent healing potion, and the other that turned any metal into gold. If she had to guess, he had to have had something resembling the Elixir of Life, which he analysed and used it as the target of the transmutation.

All in all, while the container itself, as well as the pre-programmed spells, were made using Alchemy, the rest was pure blood magic, with a mixture of the 'essence of Light' messing with everything.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Harry speaking up, "Good, you're up. I was scared you'd overslept or something."

She grumbled slightly, hearing the teasing in his voice, "I was just making sure that I didn't forget anything. And it was hard, considering you didn't even tell me where we're going."

"Where's the mystery in that?" he asked brightly.

Daphne knew that Harry wasn't really to blame for this. She had class to go to for the rest of the day, while he was free, probably preparing for their quest. The blonde really wished she could miss classes as well.

While, as champions of the European tournament, attending classes wasn't technically mandatory, McGonagall implemented a rule where you needed your guardian's permission to miss them. Harry was completely free since Arcturus just signed the letter without even blinking, but Daphne wasn't under the delusion that her parents would ever agree so easily even if she was ahead of her peers in most subjects.

That meant that Harry tended to only attend classes when he had some free time. And since he's planning on stopping the End of Times, that was pretty far and between. He did his best, though, but Daphne knew that he had a lot of pressure on his shoulders.

Still, deciding to humour him, she asked, "So, any plans on telling me where we're going now?"

The grin her gave her was one of the truest ones that she had seen in a while. Pure wonder, that was what was written all over his face. How long has it been since she'd seen him exhibit this emotion? It had to be at least a year, maybe even two.

Nowadays, his smiles were more tired, victorious, and sometimes a bit vicious, which was a sharp contrast to the wonder on his face when he studied magic without any expectations. Whatever the result of their little expedition, she was thrilled to see him look like that.

Not noticing Daphne smiling gently at his face, Harry took out a small book – Flamel's diary – and put it on the ground, and spoke up, "I was a bit of an idiot. I tried to find some kind of hidden message somewhere and it occurred to me hours later to use magic to sense it. It took a bit, but the moment I used Solomon's magic to try to detect any hidden magic, I got this."

His finger glowed slightly, and suddenly, the book levitated and started to project dozens of glowing symbols, runes – ones that she had never seen before – which combined with glowing threads, as if it was some kind of weird arithmetic equation, "So, the Flamels knew Solomon's magic?"

"No. The magic itself isn't folded into itself, nor is it as efficient. They knew of the magic, enough to detect its use, probably by detecting a working spell that wouldn't be complete if it used some form of traditional magic. Perenelle Flamel, being a seer, could have easily asked her husband to add it in. No, what's more curious are the runes. Can you recognize them from anywhere?"

"Not that I can think of."

He smiled even more wildly, "Neither did I. I know a thing or two about runes, but I've never seen anything like this before. It took me a while to figure it out. This isn't a rune matrix, it's a spell."

Harry waved his hand, and slowly, the runes shifted around, forming a circle, with the threads somehow acting as borders. She had seen something similar before, "It's like one of your magic circles."

"It is. Believe it or not, before the wands became widespread thanks to the Romans, magic circles were the most efficient way to cast any magic. It took a little while to properly decipher the runes by trying to sense the concept of every single one of them personally. It turns out that runes have a certain impact that I could sense using Solomon's magic, an impact that I could understand a bit. And then, when I had a good idea what it was, I cast it, and that's what came out."

He waved his hand, and a magical circle materialized, conjuring a small globe of the entire Earth, with a single glowing dot. It was somewhere near Bristol. Harry, still looking excited, continued, "I'm guessing you want to know where this is. The forest of Dean. It's a very old magical forest, filled with druidic sites. It's weirdly open for muggles as well, not that they'd see anything, with everything being covered with layers of magic. Funnily enough, it has so much ambient magic that it could be used pretty effectively to hide something magically powerful, something like the Philosopher's Stone. I think that this is it."

Daphne didn't answer, just happy to see the sheer excitement on Harry's face. He tilted his head in confusion, "What is it?"

"Nothing, I just forgot how happy you got when you explored a new form of magic. It's adorable."

The boy scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment, "Hey, I am not adorable."

"Whatever you say, Harry," she teased back.

He huffed and grumbled, "Let's just get there."

With a flick of his hand, a portal opened in front of them and swallowed them to the other side. The blonde yelped, "Hey, you could have warned me!"

Harry retorted with a cheeky grin, "Oh, you just look adorable when you're surprised."

"Well-played, Potter. Well-played indeed."

They smiled at one another, and Daphne finally took the time to look at her surroundings. She took a deep breath and felt like she was back in her bed at home, extremely comfortable. The blonde could understand why Harry said that this forest was deeply magical.

The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and fresh pine, a blend of moss and ancient wood that wrapped around them like a warm, familiar blanket. The trees stood tall and proud, their thick trunks covered in a shimmering veil of emerald-green lichen. The forest itself seemed alive, pulsing with a gentle hum that resonated beneath the soles of her boots.

Daphne could feel the subtle tug of something old and powerful in the air, an energy that made her skin tingle as if the forest had been waiting for them. It wasn't just a place—it was a living, breathing thing, and every inch of it seemed steeped in centuries of forgotten history, which it wanted to share so badly, like a grandparent telling a grandchild of their family's history.

That alone made the whole trip worth it. Daphne was a bit anxious when she insisted that she would join Harry on his adventure, especially given that it was outside the castle, and that her boyfriend had no clue what would happen next. The way nature slowly murmured, as if it was welcoming back a child, was nothing like she ever felt before.

She could almost make out what it wanted to say, only for her concentration to break as Harry released a surprised yelp.

The blonde turned towards her boyfriend and saw that the diary was vibrating in his hands and started to glow, revealing runes similar to the ones it projected back in Hogwarts. Suddenly, a ball of golden light appeared in the air, and slowly flew away, North, if her point-me charms were correct.

The movement was slow enough that the intent was obvious. The ball of light wanted them to follow it. They did so and it didn't take long until they found themselves in front of a wall of mist. They persisted, until suddenly, everything changed. The night sky turned bright, but there wasn't a sun in the sky. Instead of the intense heat, the light seemed slightly faded, as if it was slowly dissipating through layers of dense fog. The air had an odd, almost metallic chill to it, and the mist clung to their skin like a damp shroud.

Daphne squinted ahead, where the faint outline of land appeared through the fog, emerging like a phantom from the shadows. They stepped forward, and the mist parted just enough to reveal a small, still lake, its surface unnaturally smooth and untouched by even the slightest ripple. The water was so clear that it reflected the grey sky like a mirror, though it seemed deeper than any lake had the right to be. The light flew down into the lake and its glow slowly faded as it sunk into its depth.

"What is this place?" she breathed out.

Harry was concentrating very hard on something, his expression blank but Daphne knew him enough to realize that he was both amazed, but also slightly anxious, "This is another realm, a dimension. It's like Mount Olympus, but on a far smaller scale. Still, whoever did it was impressive and definitely someone I'd like to talk to."

Daphne rolled her eyes, "How many secret realms are there? Can't you just detect them, so that we don't keep getting taken off-guard?"

"Realms are a source of power, it's enough to fight wars over. The Flamels are old enough that they could have stumbled into how to make one."

"You think that Nicholas Flamel did this?"

Harry shook his head, "I don't know, but it's an ideal place to hide something that's very magically powerful. The forest's magic would stop anyone from detecting the entrance, and the realm would be able to hide any signature from leaking into the outside world. It's a very clever solution. The magic here is also weird. It's more raw, chaotic, maybe enough to throw off divination attempts?"

Before Daphne could ask anything, Harry raised his hand toward the lake, where the golden light had disappeared. Slowly, a small golden boat began to rise from the water, covered in the same runes as the diary. It looked almost brand new—no signs of wear from the water or time. No oars, no sails, just a sleek, inviting little vessel with its bow lifted slightly like it was asking them to hop in.

Without saying anything, Harry and Daphne exchanged a look and climbed into the boat. The moment they did, it shifted, gliding silently across the lake. There was no splash, no sound, just this smooth, almost eerie movement through the still water. The golden glow had faded, but the boat seemed to know exactly where it was going, guiding them through the mist.

As the boat drifted further from the shore, the fog thickened around them. Slowly, though, the mist began to clear, revealing an enormous palace. It was so huge, it seemed to stretch forever, with towering spires reaching up into the clouds. It should've been breathtaking—if it weren't falling apart. Vines covered the walls, some so thick they reached the tops of the spires, and the carvings on the walls were so worn down from age that Daphne couldn't make sense of them.

The boat stopped at the base of a giant set of stairs leading up to the palace's grand entrance, coming to a smooth halt. They stepped out, staring up at the massive doors, which creaked open on their own the moment they stood before them.

If she had to describe what she was seeing, it would be a gigantic throne room. The floor looked like it was made of ice, and the walls were a very light blue and were decorated with hundreds of small decorated windows. And yet, the magic felt dead. Compared to the forest outside, this felt more like a tomb than anything.

She suddenly turned around, swearing to have seen some movement, only to see nothing. She felt Harry tense. He definitely knew something that she didn't. She met his eyes and he spoke, "We're not alone here."

As if they waited for him to speak, dozens of ghosts kept floating, giving them apathetic looks. She took a sigh of relief, but she could feel that Harry got tenser, if anything. She gave him a questioning look, "What is it? It's just ghosts."

"They're not just ghosts. They're ghosts of Fae. We need to get out of here."

Now that he pointed it out, she could tell that the ears were definitely pointier, their eyes slightly wider than normal, and their features sharper. Oh, shit. She heard horror stories about the fae, and coming into their homes was generally a bad idea. Why would the Flamels send them to this place?

A strange feminine voice spoke up, "I think not. It took a lot of effort to get you to come here, Peverel."

Daphne turned towards its origin, only to find a woman – no, a fae – sitting on the throne, peering down at them imperiously. She had to admit that she was slightly intimidating.

Harry though, looked her straight in the eyes and asked, "You know who I am, but I do not know who are."

"Oh, but you do know who I am. My sires named Nimue, but you know me by a different name, after all, I went through so much trouble to meet you here. I had to enchant that diary my husband planned to leave for you."

That seemed to take Harry off-guard, "You mean?"

"Ah, yes. I suppose you would better know me as Perenelle Flamel, wife of Nicholas Flamel."

What the actual fuck?

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If you want to support me check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr

I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions of them so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.

Thank you guys for your support in these hard times.