Will laid out the story quickly.
“Nicolas Flamel.
Legendary alchemist, born sometime in the fourteenth century, and by all accounts, still very much alive today.
Extraordinarily gifted.
His alchemy work is considered world-class, easily among the finest ever produced.
He graduated from Beauxbatons and later taught there himself, and he’s remained close friends with Dumbledore for decades, the two of them credited with several major advances in the field together.
Plenty of people consider him the greatest alchemist in history, mostly because he’s the one who created the Philosopher’s Stone.”
The group stared back, visibly struggling to process it.
“Hang on, fourteenth century?
That can’t be right.”
“Wait, is he actually immortal?”
“What exactly is the Philosopher’s Stone, then?”
The questions came in a rush, disbelief plain on every face.
“All of that traces back to the Stone itself.
It’s an alchemical substance with genuinely remarkable properties, the product of ancient alchemical study.
It can convert ordinary metal into pure gold, and beyond that, it can produce an elixir capable of extending life indefinitely for whoever drinks it.
There’ve been scattered accounts of Philosopher’s Stones throughout history, but the only one confirmed to still exist belongs to Flamel.
All of this is documented in Ancient and Most Notable Contributions to the Craft of Alchemy.”
Privately, Will knew the elixir required continuous doses to keep working.
Stop drinking it, and death followed quickly.
Still, given that Flamel and his wife remained alive and healthy by the time the book was written, most of the wizarding world had settled on the simpler explanation: the elixir granted true immortality outright.
“And keeps you alive forever, apparently,” Harry added.
“No wonder Snape’s…” Ron started, then caught himself abruptly, clamping a hand over his own mouth.
“Snape’s what?” Sylvia turned toward him sharply.
“He, ah, nothing, he confiscated one of my books once.” Harry started to explain before feeling Ron’s elbow dig into his side from behind.
Neville and Hermione both glanced over, catching Ron’s not-so-subtle wink at Harry.
Will noticed the exchange but let it pass without comment, pulling Sylvia gently by the arm instead.
“If that’s everything, we’ll head off.
Come on, Sylvia, hungry?
Dinner won’t wait around forever.”
Sylvia opened her mouth to say she was already full, then felt Will’s fingers press briefly against her arm and course-corrected instantly.
“Right, starving, actually.
Let’s go, Will.”
Once they’d walked off, Harry turned to Ron, confused.
“Why’d you stop me from telling him?
Will’s not like the rest of Slytherin.
And honestly, without him we wouldn’t even know who Flamel was, let alone that Snape’s after the Stone specifically.”
“Harry, they’re Slytherins.
If word gets to Snape that we know what he’s after, he’ll be on guard the second we’re anywhere near him.
And remember what he said in class last week?
‘Say another word about a professor in my classroom, Weasley, and I’ll have you tasting Veritaserum before the hour’s out.’ What if he’s already dosed Behrens and that Lestrange girl with it?”
Only Hermione frowned, something about Will’s reaction sitting oddly with her.
Both of them had smelled faintly of woodsmoke, and Sylvia had mentioned before that the two of them sometimes wandered off to grill fish by the lake together.
Was she really that hungry, though?
Meanwhile, a short distance away, Sylvia tugged on Will’s sleeve.
“Why wouldn’t you let me ask him more?
Weasley was acting so strange about the whole thing.”
“They clearly don’t want us knowing whatever it is.
So why push it?
I’ve got no real interest in other people’s secrets anyway.”
Sylvia accepted the answer without hesitation.
Prying into other people’s business had never suited Will’s temperament, not from anything she’d seen.
If anything, she’d noticed he actively avoided complications whenever he could, preferring quiet and books over nearly everything else.
“Fancy the Room of Requirement instead?
I had it set up as a proper reading room earlier.”
“Absolutely!” Sylvia walked on ahead, grinning, entirely unaware of the shift that had crossed Will’s expression moments earlier.
The truth was, Will had good reason for staying out of it.
Whatever this whole “chosen one” arrangement amounted to, with Dumbledore watching over every step of it, did he actually want to know more than necessary?
Did he want to get pulled any deeper into it than he already was?
He was already sitting squarely under Dumbledore’s attention as it stood.
Getting further tangled up in whatever grand plan surrounded Harry Potter offered him nothing useful in return.
With his panel still ticking upward day by day, what he needed most was time to keep building, not another distraction with zero return on the investment.