Chapter 232: Nicolas "Tightfist" LeMay

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The legends of Nicolas LeMay abound in Beauxbatons, but as the school's largest benefactor—a singular powerhouse who financially supports Beauxbatons more than the twelve members of the Hogwarts Board of Governors combined—he and his wife have made very few appearances at the school. It has been over two hundred years since they last graced the grounds, and even the educational reforms that began fifteen years ago only received a single letter from Nicolas LeMay.

This legendary alchemist, who prefers a life of seclusion, does not enjoy the public eye—at least not within the magical community. Yet, no one believes that the long-absent Nicolas LeMay would quietly rest in his grave, leaving behind an astronomical fortune for some fortunate soul to inherit.

Those who entertain such thoughts likely haven't realized that, even after his death, LeMay could still be alive and well. While the exact price to pay for immortality with the Philosopher's Stone remains a mystery, the effects of eternal life are beyond question.

After walking through the front garden, filled with exotic flowers and plants, they reached the grand gates of the manor, which opened to reveal a well-dressed house-elf in formal attire, standing at the entrance with a respectful bow.

"Master has been expecting you, Mr. Harry Potter," the house-elf greeted Harry first, before turning to Fleur. "Miss Delacour, welcome."

"Please, Miss, wait in the parlor. I'll bring refreshments shortly."

"Mr. Potter, please follow me. Master is upstairs."

"Can she come with me? I have something to discuss..."

"Come along," a voice from above interjected before Harry could finish. Both Harry and Fleur looked up and saw a handsome man with brown hair, appearing no older than fifty, leaning casually on the railing, offering them a slight smile.

"Ollivander mentioned you, Fleur Delacour. This boy must have extraordinary luck."

"Unfortunately, I can't solve the problem you're facing," he gestured to Fleur, "the extraordinary charm you exude."

"Oh, sorry, this isn't the place for a chat. Come upstairs, I'll be waiting for you inside."

When LeMay's figure disappeared from the balcony, Harry and Fleur exchanged glances before following the house-elf's lead up the automatic stairs to the second floor.

On the surface, the mansion seemed only slightly more extravagant than the Malfoy estate, but once they entered a large room with double doors, they were suddenly overwhelmed by a vast, otherworldly space—much larger than it appeared at first.

Though it was Harry's second visit, he still felt an indescribable awe. This was one of LeMay's alchemical laboratories, and it was unlike anything Harry had seen at New Mongarde. Here, steel and machinery dominated, and the scale was breathtaking.

A towering furnace, dozens of meters high, blasted intense violet flames from its top. Countless tons of cold-forged hammers struck with the force of giant blacksmiths, their thunderous impacts sending sparks flying in waves of red. Although the noise of the smithing process was muffled by thin glass windows, the sight alone stirred Harry's imagination, filling his mind with the deafening roars of the forge.

If LeMay had told Harry he was building a Royal Sovereign-class battleship to spread the Emperor's glory across Earth and usher in a new age of conquest, Harry wouldn't have hesitated to believe it. However, when they entered, LeMay merely smiled warmly and said:

"Would you care for a vanilla bubble milkshake? My wife made it herself. Though she's on vacation, her thoughtful gesture is here for you."

"Thank you," Harry said, still slightly dazed.

"Make yourself at home, no need to stand on ceremony." LeMay nodded at Fleur, then handed her a milkshake that looked absolutely delicious.

"Don't just stand there, kid." With Harry, LeMay was less formal—he had already sized him up, knowing exactly what kind of troublemaker Harry was. To LeMay, Harry was much like Grindelwald, a chaotic fool with a head full of nonsense. "Your eyes are going to fall out if you keep staring like that."

"Oh~" Harry reluctantly tore his gaze away, then absentmindedly drank the milkshake in one go.

"Didn't taste anything."

Harry, feeling somewhat guilty, poured himself another cup and gulped it down quickly, "Tastes good, I'll have another!"

LeMay's face visibly darkened. His wife's thoughtful gesture had been consumed by this brat within seconds. LeMay hadn't even gotten a taste himself!

"Burp—Is there any more, old man? This tastes way better than the milk tea outside! Another pot, please."*

"That's it. The only thing left is ice water. If you want more, go fetch it yourself from the kitchen. I wouldn't mind if you choked on it, you little brat."

"Cheh~ Stingy old man! If my sister were here, she'd never say that." Harry rolled his eyes, looking at LeMay with disdain. "Only by eating and drinking well can you grow. You should listen to what my sister says."

"You little brat! Why do you call her 'sister' but me 'old man'? Do I look that old to you?"

"My sister looks around twenty-seven or twenty-eight, but you, sir? My dad had me when he was nineteen, I was born at thirteen, and my grandfather is only in his fifties! With the way you dress, you're young at fifty, but at six hundred years old, you're ancient, tsk tsk."

Seeing LeMay's beard twitching in irritation was almost comical, but being someone who had weathered all kinds of storms, his composure was evident.

Thud!

LeMay jumped up, grabbing his cane, and struck Harry's head, settling down once the frustration passed. At seventy years old, one could be carefree; after living over six hundred years, why would LeMay still hold onto petty grievances?

Looking at Harry crouched on the floor, holding his swollen head with tears in his eyes, LeMay waved his hand grandly. "I won't argue with you, you little brat."

While Harry may have needed a lesson in humility, LeMay preferred talking to Fleur. The young woman had a demeanor that spoke of class, unlike the brat who needed to be smacked around for a sense of balance.

"The changes in you are similar to those in Ollivander. She has giant blood, and you have Veela blood."

LeMay sat across from Fleur, waved his hand across the table, and several 3D magical projections of non-human figures appeared, depicting various magical creatures.

"Hybrids with magical creatures are not uncommon in the wizarding world. It often leads to more gifted offspring, but it has its pros and cons. The downside is that the traits of these creatures can also pass down. For Veela hybrids, it can lead to excessive pride, emotional instability, and extreme mood swings."

"But Fleur doesn't have any of those traits," Harry, still rubbing his head, spoke up.

"Children should learn not to interrupt," LeMay chided, and, with a flick of his cane, delivered another tap to Harry's head.

With a smile, LeMay continued, clearly enjoying himself—Harry's head was a satisfying target.

"Fleur's situation is different. Let's call it a bloodline ascension. In simple terms, it's when two different bloodlines reach a delicate balance and create a complementary effect."

"But such changes aren't predictable. Take Ollivander, for example. Her giant blood was supposed to significantly weaken her magical abilities while enhancing her physical strength. Yet, Ollivander has high magical talent, though her physical enhancements aren't as strong as other giant hybrids. Hogwarts has another half-giant student."

LeMay glanced at Harry, but the brat was stubbornly ignoring him. LeMay sighed and continued.

"Now, that other student is something else. While his magical talent is only slightly enhanced, he inherited almost all the physical traits of a giant, including massive magical power that surpasses even wizard-level magic. If there's a 'perfect' form of a half-giant, it would be him. And he's only sixty—still a young adult."

"When I was studying flesh and blood golems, I used him as a reference. But to replicate that kind of natural miracle, common methods are just too difficult to achieve."

LeMay spoke with a hint of regret. To someone like him, a "researcher" in the scientific sense, Hagrid had extraordinary value—he was essentially a walking goldmine!

"You're saying Hagrid's only just an adult at sixty?" Harry couldn't help but question, his confusion evident. He knew giants lived far longer than wizards, but sixty-year-old Hagrid should be considered a middle-aged man, not a mere child, right?

"A perfect half-giant living for six hundred years is long-lived? There are giants who live over eight hundred years. Humans, on the other hand, are short-lived. Even wizard-humans, in the world of magical creatures, are at the bottom of the food chain."

"Magical energy quality, total magic, magical perception—everything related to magic, humans are at the bottom. But even so, human wizards can live nearly twice as long as regular humans. Magic has a huge impact on the body and lifespan. The more magical energy in the body, the longer one lives. Those elemental creatures almost have no concept of death because their bodies are made of magic."

"Have you ever seen a Dementor die of old age? The oldest Dementor in Azkaban has been alive for over four thousand years. They don't have a real sense of time or lifespan. For them, death might just be a shift in perspective, a new life cycle. Of course, that doesn't count when they're killed by a Patronus—that erases their very existence, a true form of death."

"Actually, the two of you being together might not be such a bad choice," LeMay mused, calling over a teapot and pouring himself a cup of tea that could bankrupt someone. He took a small sip.

"At least you won't end up with one of you going gray while the other still has a full head of black hair."

"But Fleur's hair's already white, too. Silver-white, actually."

"Didn't you understand the comparison, little brat? Must you always try to irritate me to feel alive?" LeMay swung his cane, enjoying the satisfying whack. "I should never have let you through that door! Even Grindelwald wasn't as disruptive as you. At least when he blew up Paris, I had some peace and quiet."

"Give me back the Sunstone, then! I don't know who that old coot was, but the moment we met, he stole it right from me. I should respect my elders, but I never saw you respecting the young!" Harry shouted, clutching his head.

When Harry had first met LeMay, he had been far too young and foolish, revealing both Sunstones. Of course, LeMay had snatched both away, and to top it off, Harry couldn't even beat him!

"At least give me one back! The one Daniella gave to Fleur! I swear, I'll have my sister hang you by your feet if you don't return it!"

"The Sun Dragon can't even leave Kyranthel," LeMay replied casually.

"But I believe the Sun Dragon's laser can curve. One shot, and your house will be blown to bits."

LeMay fell silent for a moment, considering, before finally admitting, "Now that, I believe."

"Then return it to me!" Harry demanded, hands on hips, though the bump on his head still hadn't gone down.

LeMay eyed him, then smirked, "Do you know anything about jewelry design? Do you know where to find craftsmen who won't waste materials? Even if you find them, do they have the skills to craft it?"

"This is a crystallized element imbued with life force, one of the purest, hardest materials in the world."

"I can learn it myself. It's just jewelry design, how hard can it be? I am a craftsman myself, making it's no problem. I can make pure element crystals too!"

A thin thread of lightning sparked from Harry's fingertips. "Although I can't crystallize it yet, does it really matter to me? I'm thirteen, plenty of time to grow."

LeMay was left speechless. The brat could cause a ruckus, but there was clearly more to him than met the eye.

"Just because you're an awakened one, you think you're special?" LeMay muttered in frustration, showing little of his usual dignified composure. "Fine, you win. You're special."

"So, tell me, what kind of jewelry do you want made? Processing fees are on the house."

"Pfft, don't make me laugh. Even the scrap pieces are worth a fortune. If you could just buy the Sunstone, would you still have snatched them from me earlier?"

Harry didn't hesitate to take the upper hand in the negotiation. With the Philosopher's Stone in LeMay's hands, he had endless gold, but there were many things more valuable than gold in this world. Ultimately, LeMay was a brilliant alchemist, but still an individual—there were some things he couldn't buy, things only the power of nations could provide.

One could live a life of wealth and luxury, while the other could bless future generations with prosperity. The choice was obvious.

Seeing LeMay lost in thought, Harry slyly exchanged a high-five with Fleur. While the deal might not be a win-lose scenario, with an old man like LeMay, squeezing a little out of him wasn't a bad idea, especially when he always acted so stingy.

Ah, taking revenge felt pretty good.

(End of chapter)