NOVEL NEXT WORLD Chapter 46: Nicolas Flamel
Even for someone as well-traveled as the Flamels, the sight of a six-foot-tall, upright dragon was enough to leave Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel slack-jawed in astonishment.
Black skin, black scales, a pair of curved horns reminiscent of goblet handles perched atop his head, and striking sapphire-blue slit-pupiled eyes. His mouth stretched all the way to his ears, revealing a row of sharp, needle-like teeth. He wore a predominantly black robe, adorned with intricate gold patterns and trim, cinched at the waist with a golden belt. A thick tail swayed gently behind him. If anything seemed truly out of place, it was the wand in his hand—somehow, Nicolas Flamel felt it ought to be a long, hefty staff instead.
Glancing at Dumbledore beside him and finding the old wizard equally stunned, Nicolas was secretly relieved. So it wasn't just Perenelle and him who were at a loss—good, good…
"This spell is called Transmutation. It's quite a convenient spell, and it lasts for about an hour—hmm?" Harry—now in his Draconic Heritage form—grinned as he began his explanation, only to suddenly furrow his brows. At first, he had dismissed it as a minor discomfort from assuming his dragonborn form, but now he was certain—deep within his chest, an unfamiliar yet oddly familiar force pulsed steadily. A warm sensation radiated outward, coursing through his body in gentle waves.
"Harry, is something wrong?" Noticing the sudden surge in Harry's magical aura, Dumbledore straightened and asked with concern.
"It's nothing, probably just my imagination." Harry shook his head and, in a flash of light, the liquid-like transformation magic washed over him. A tall and lean Dumbledore now stood before the trio. "I can take on the form of any person within the spell's duration, or grow gills and webbed hands for underwater activity, or even sprout claws and horns to enhance melee combat."
Afterward, Nicolas Flamel eagerly pulled Harry aside to inquire about the lands of Faerûn and the neighboring continents—most of which Harry had only heard about from others. He even casually mentioned the Nine Hells (beyond the distant glimpse he had seen from the Spelljammer, most of what he knew came from Karak).
As Dumbledore watched the Flamels' eyes light up with each of Harry's revelations, he knew that convincing Nicolas Flamel to join his interdimensional exploration project was now just a matter of time. And time, for a 111-year-old wizard, was still quite abundant.
The next morning, Albus Dumbledore, one step closer to realizing his resurrection project, was in an uncharacteristically good mood. So much so that he even found himself humming over breakfast. Someone else who was equally cheerful was Ronald Weasley at the Gryffindor table.
Ron was overjoyed—not only had he finally gotten his own wand from Ollivanders yesterday, but this morning, Harry had surprisingly not dragged him and the others out of bed for their usual early training. It would have been perfect if Hermione hadn't barged into the dormitory midway through.
Unlike Ron's delight, Hermione was concerned about Harry. Over the past year, Harry had stuck to his training routine every morning, rain or shine. But today… She couldn't shake the memory of what she thought she had seen when waking him up—brief glimpses of bronze-colored dragon scales on his face. Even her favorite cream puffs had lost their appeal. Though her eyes had later confirmed there was nothing unusual about his face, she couldn't help but overthink it. Especially considering the strange and powerful magic Harry kept displaying, none of which she had ever seen in any book before…
As for Harry himself, he was thoroughly baffled. Waking up to find bronze-colored dragon scales on his face, he had instinctively checked his character sheet while showering—only to discover that his class had inexplicably changed from Storm Sorcerer to Draconic Bloodline Sorcerer.
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[Name]: Harry Potter
[Race]: Human Wizard
[Class]: Draconic Bloodline Sorcerer
[Level]: 8 (Sorcerer)
[Attributes]:
Strength: 10 (-2 due to being underage)
Dexterity: 12 (-2 due to being underage)
Constitution: 12 (+1 from human wizard, -2 due to being underage)
Intelligence: 13
Wisdom: 14 (+1 from human wizard)
Charisma: 17
[Traits]:
Draconic Bloodline: Your innate magic stems from the mingling of draconic magic within your ancestry. This heritage may trace back to a powerful sorcerer who made a pact with dragons, or even a direct draconic ancestor. Alternatively, you may be the first of your bloodline to manifest this power.
Draconic Heritage - Bronze Dragon (Lightning): You can speak, read, and write Draconic. Additionally, when interacting with dragons, you naturally start with a higher base level of rapport compared to an ordinary human.
Draconic Resilience: Magic surges through your veins, causing your draconic traits to manifest. At 1st level, your maximum HP increases by 1, and it increases by 1 again every time you level up in this class. Additionally, patches of smooth, dragon-like scales begin to cover parts of your body, granting you higher base armor compared to an unarmored human.
Elemental Affinity: Starting at 6th level, whenever you cast a spell that deals damage of your associated draconic element (Lightning), you can add your Charisma modifier to the spell's damage. You can also spend a small amount of sorcery points to gain resistance to this damage type for one hour.
His level hadn't changed, but a strand of draconic blood had inexplicably appeared in his lineage—something that made absolutely no sense!
His mind was in turmoil, so much so that he completely forgot to cast his usual Transmutation spell to disguise himself. The result? When Hermione pulled back his blanket that morning, she found herself staring at Harry's face, now adorned with patches of dragon scales. Fortunately, he reacted quickly, and within the blink of an eye, he had reverted to his usual appearance. But… he couldn't just rely on Transmutation to hide his changes forever, could he? Hmm… relying on Transmutation to conceal his changes?
Harry's eyes suddenly lit up with an idea. As for his unexpected transformation into a Draconic Bloodline Sorcerer, given the color of his scales, he had a pretty good guess about the cause.
After all, if he had brought his character sheet from Faerûn into this world, bringing other things along as well wasn't all that surprising, right?
After finishing his breakfast in just a few bites, Harry decided to put his plan into action while the Great Hall was still bustling.
First…
"Hey! Dean, did you know? Yesterday, when I went to Ollivanders to buy a wand—" Ron, enthusiastically waving a roasted drumstick, was regaling Neville and the others with his trip to Ollivanders when suddenly, Harry's voice came from behind him.
"By the way, I just mastered an incredibly powerful family spell. Want to see?"
Dean and the others nodded with curiosity. Moments later, Ron saw their faces morph into expressions of shock and delight. Then, he heard his own voice behind him say, "Well? Do I look convincing or what?"
Ron turned around—only to find himself staring at another version of himself grinning back.
"Huh? When did they put a mirror here?" Ron mumbled in confusion, reaching out to touch his reflection—only for the "mirror" version of himself to tilt its head and dodge his hand.
"Ron: ?!!!"
The red-haired boy's pupils shook in disbelief.
"How about it? My newly learned family magic is pretty amazing, right?" Ron stood triumphantly with his hands on his hips, looking smugly at the Ron sitting across from him. "As long as this spell lasts, I can turn into anyone!"
"In terms of pranking people, it's definitely a powerful magic," Hermione commented calmly as she spread butter on her bread. She glanced briefly at Harry—who still looked like Ron—and asked, "Did you just say you can turn into anyone?"
"That's right!" Hermione—dressed in Harry's clothes—nodded confidently.
"Then turn into a cute girl with cat ears!"
Whoosh!
A perfectly seated Hermione, now sporting a pair of cat ears on her head, appeared right in front of the real Hermione.
"You idiot! Why would you turn into me?!" Hermione immediately felt a little embarrassed seeing her own face—now with cat ears—under the eyes of so many people. Even though she knew the person in front of her was actually Harry, it still… felt weird.
The cat-eared Hermione nodded and then—
Whoosh!
A cat-eared Ginny sat neatly in front of Hermione.
"This is much better," Hermione sighed in relief. But then she glanced at Ginny's cat ears. Then she glanced again at Ginny's cat ears. And then…
"If you want to touch them, go ahead. I don't mind," Ginny said casually.
And so, under the watchful eyes of an increasingly large crowd drawn by the sight of a cat-eared Ginny, Miss Otter (Hermione) shakily reached out her hand toward the ears. And at the same time, five or six other hands also grabbed Ginny's cat ears.
"…You guys—" Hermione looked around at the other girls who had also reached out for Ginny's cat ears. For some reason, she suddenly felt an odd sense of loss, as if something that belonged to her was being taken away.
"Sorry, Hermione, but her ears are just too cute. I couldn't resist…" Lavender Brown apologized with an awkward smile.
Hermione shook her head. "No need to apologize to me—and also, it's him, not her."
"Huh?"
"This girl is actually Harry," Hermione explained.
"WHAT?!!"
In the end, under everyone's shocked stares, Harry changed back to his original form. However, now there were a few dragon scales on his face, and despite everyone's protests, he stubbornly refused to remove them, claiming, "It looks cool."
--
Soon, October 31st arrived—Halloween. For once, the Research Institute had given everyone a day off. Harry was ready to enjoy his break to the fullest, and so were the other students who had chosen to join the Research Institute and hadn't been scared off by the intense coursework.
Incidentally, in the entirety of Gryffindor's second year, only three students were still attending Research Institute classes—Harry, Hermione, and Neville. Harry and Hermione had decided they couldn't afford to lose touch with the world outside of magic, while Neville… simply didn't dare to ask Professor McGonagall for a withdrawal.
Perhaps it was due to their exposure to Muggle knowledge, but compared to those who either never joined the Research Institute or quit after being overwhelmed, the hundred or so Hogwarts students who continued attending the Institute on weekends increasingly felt as if there was an invisible barrier between them and the rest of their classmates. It wasn't that they couldn't communicate—but whenever they talked with other students, especially those from wizarding families, it always felt like they were speaking to someone from centuries past.
Meanwhile, at the Research Institute's base, still shrouded in morning mist, two six-hundred-year-old actual relics of the past were being worshipped by a group of young researchers. And when Nicolas Flamel pulled out a 44-inch color television that was only a few centimeters thick, the entire conference room erupted into excitement.
At the same time, Dumbledore, who was presiding over the gathering, announced that Nicolas Flamel would be officially taking the position of Head of the Magical Science Integration Research Group in the Institute.
With that, the wizarding world had taken its first firm step toward systematically integrating magic and science.
--
Back at Hogwarts, the first Quidditch match of the year was about to begin, signaled by Madam Hooch's whistle.
"Harry! Look! That was an amazing move by Angelina just now!" In the wooden stands, Ron was practically bouncing, waving his fists in excitement. Beside him, Harry and Hermione were resting their chins on their hands, looking completely uninterested as they watched the players fly back and forth.
The truth was, neither of them had wanted to come watch the Quidditch match. But…
"This is Gryffindor's first match of the semester! How can you two, as Gryffindors, just stay in the dorm and read?!" In the common room, Ron had righteously scolded Harry and Hermione, who had been sitting in armchairs planning to get ahead on their studies.
And that was how the two of them ended up getting dragged to the Quidditch stands by an overexcited Ron—only to immediately start zoning out in boredom.
For Hermione, it was because she wasn't good at flying and had no interest in Quidditch. As for Harry… he just thought a game where almost all the points came from one player (the Seeker) was kind of lame.
Then, as Harry was spacing out—
A Bludger, hit off course by Fred, came hurtling straight at him.
"Harry! Watch out!!" Hermione's shriek rang in his ears. Harry instinctively turned his head toward her voice, and at that exact moment, an unidentified flying object whooshed past his head and smashed into the stands.
"WHAT THE HELL?!!" The burning sensation at the back of his head made Harry's heart skip a beat.
"Sorry, Harry! I think I might've hit the Bludger wrong just now—are you okay?" Fred's voice called from a distance.
"I'm fine! Don't worry!" Harry replied. At the same time, he immediately cast Blade Ward, False Life, and Mage Armor on himself.
After a moment's thought, he added Shield.
Then, just to be safe, he cast Stoneskin as well.
And right as he finished casting—
Something slammed into his back with tremendous force, sending him flying over two meters forward—almost knocking him off the stands entirely.
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