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Chapter 79 The Golden House! (Seeking first subscriptions!)

"Would you like to continue the tour, or would you like to fill your stomach first, child?"

Madame Lemaître stood at the top of the passageway, her almost pure white eyes, tinged with light gray, gazing at Ares with a smile.

Ares's brow relaxed. He didn't answer immediately, thus revealing his true thoughts to Madame Lemaître.

"It seems you wish to continue your visit."

Madame Lemaître said with a smile.

"Yes, madam, these photos are very interesting."

Ares turned to look at the last photograph hanging in the passageway.

"There are many interesting things in the room; you might need a guide."

Madame Lemaître said that she staggered down the stairs, and Ares immediately jogged up to help her down, carefully so as not to break her arm.

"This photo is very meaningful."

Madame Lemaître came to the photograph that Ares had just been looking at and said.

"Um-"

"Yes, I see...it happened after Professor Dumbledore defeated that person?"

Unlike any other photograph Ares has seen here, this one has a gloomy, dilapidated background... a vast expanse of ruins with flames raging in many places.

The photo shows three people: a lost and forlorn Dumbledore, Nicolas Flamel with a compassionate look in his eyes, and a young man with his head turned to the side as if he dares not look at the camera.

"Not bad, not bad—"

Madame Lemaître nodded, her smile fading, and the weariness of time settling on her face. "That was in Paris, after the final battle between Albus and Grindelwald... Of course, now everyone knows Albus won... at a very heavy price, and people took this picture to celebrate."

"Oh, that young man is Newt, a very kind and simple boy. LeMay and I both like him very much."

"Yes, I guessed it."

Ares nodded, his self-glow gliding across Newt Scamander's shy profile and lingering on Dumbledore's face for a few seconds.

Dumbledore was much younger back then than he is today, with medium-length beard and hair, a straight posture, and a commanding presence.

But perhaps because he had just lost the love of his life, the sadness overflowing in his blue eyes was so intense.

As for Nicolas Flamel—

He stood between Dumbledore and Scamander... his face was much the same as the other photos in the passageway—old, frail, and powerless, looking as if a strong gust of wind could blow him over.

"It's very sad."

Madame Flamel sighed and said, "In my and Flamel's long lives, this was the only time we had ever witnessed wizards waging such a brutal war... Muggles were also caught up in it."

Before Albus defeated Grindelwald, the situation seemed utterly hopeless to both Lemaître and me. At that time, Lemaître had me lead the students into a secret room he had set up behind Beauxbatons, while he decided to help Albus.

What a silly old man! He's not even as healthy as me. I once thought he was definitely going to die... But, it's not all bad.

"Respectable."

Ares gazed intently at the photograph of Nicolas Flamel... He had never seen Flamel's face in any book before today; this was the first time he had met the legendary alchemist Nicolas Flamel.

"Hah...cough—"

Madame Lemaître chuckled hoarsely. Perhaps because she hadn't spoken to anyone in a while, she seemed quite enthusiastic, every wrinkle on her face radiating joy. "Would you like to see anything else here, child?"

She pointed to a smooth black velvet curtain on her right and said, "Some of the things in there are... oh, I think they're from three or four hundred years ago, when Lemaître was young and impetuous... you know, couldn't stand being alone."

So, for half a century, he treated alchemy as a pastime... He tinkered with quite a few little gadgets... Many people who saw them said they were interesting... But I thought they were just so-so.

"Ah, that's exactly what I'd like to hear."

Ares pulled his gaze away from the photo and said.

This is entirely true. You must know that among the living experts in alchemy, Nicolas Flamel is undoubtedly the best. No one can surpass him, including Dumbledore.

"Then let's go—"

Madame Lemaître said that she was being helped by Ares and slowly made her way toward the curtain.

Ares volunteered to lift the velvet curtain, and after he lifted the curtain, a hiss came out!

Just as night and day switched in an instant, the dazzling golden light that suddenly appeared in Ares' eyes was so bright that he couldn't open them!

Gold...it's all gold!!!

Oh... it's not that this basement, which is about half the size of a Quidditch pitch, is filled with gold. Rather, the entire room, from the floor to the walls and even the ceiling, is made of thick, genuine gold bricks!

Staring at the completely golden world before him, Ares suddenly felt an urge to cry, mainly because he felt heartbroken.

In order to earn a few pennies, he plotted to throw himself into prison and was imprisoned by Dumbledore at Hogwarts, while Flamel, who possessed the Philosopher's Stone, used gold bricks to build houses!

This is absolutely infuriating!

"Do you like this room?"

Madame Lemaître was not surprised by Ares's absent-mindedness; she asked with a smile.

"It's alright, I guess..."

Ares said, pursing his lips, "Mainly... I've never seen such a... magnificent room."

"Oh, we didn't intend to be so high-profile when we built this basement."

Madame Lemaître's tone was tinged with complaint: "But the countryside here is far from the city, and it's hard to get building materials. So Lemaître suggested: let's use gold nuggets. We have plenty of gold nuggets, and the house will be very sturdy. Plus, there won't be any troublesome sedge. So I agreed."

Ares's smile... was forced.

However, regaining his composure, he frowned and looked at Madame Lemaître, softly advising, "Not that I'm saying anything, but Madam... you're being a bit... well, not very careful. I mean, what if the person coming to visit..."

"Ah, I understand what you mean, child."

Madame Lemaître took Ares's hand and patted the back of it with her own wrinkled hand, which was as bark-like as a tree bark, her expression kind. "We only allow people who are not blinded by money to come in and visit... Ah, there are indeed not many such people, but you are one of them."

"Is...is that so?"

Ares said, suppressing his heartache and forcing a smile, "You...you really have a lot of faith in me."

"I won't misjudge people."

Madame Lemaître said, catching her breath, "Come, child, come and see these little toys that Lemaître himself has made."

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