Kyle couldn’t understand why a Beauxbatons professor would ask about homework the very first time guests came to visit...

It was just a regular homework assignment—was it really that important?

Alright, maybe some professors did take it seriously. But even so, with guests present—especially guests from far away—couldn’t a trivial matter like that wait a bit?

Even just for appearances’ sake, shouldn’t he have greeted the guests first? On that point alone, the Beauxbatons professor seemed rather rude.

More importantly, Kyle had never been in such an awkward situation before.

He was curling his toes tightly against the soles of his shoes.

Just thinking about how he had stumbled through his words made his face burn, especially with Gabrielle and Kanna struggling to hold back their laughter. He honestly wanted to turn around and walk away.

At that moment, he truly wished he had a Time-Turner to go back one minute and cover his own mouth... or maybe cover Kanna’s, so she couldn’t tell the truth.

“Don’t just stand there at the door. Didn’t you tell Miss Delacour you wanted to visit the alchemy classroom?”

Fortunately, Professor Viktor broke the awkward silence, this time speaking in clear, standard English.

He turned and pushed open the door to the alchemy classroom. “Come in.”

Kyle immediately lowered his head and stepped inside, with Kanna following close behind.

To her surprise, the white smoke that had been visible from outside had mysteriously vanished once they entered. The classroom was spotless—and completely odorless.

It was as if Viktor had read her mind.

“Just a little trick to make it easier to see how the students are doing,” Professor Viktor explained.

Then he turned to Kyle and asked, “You’re from Hogwarts, right?”

“You could say that,” Kyle replied. “But I’ve already graduated.”

“So you're the Champion who won the Triwizard Cup?” Viktor asked, though his tone made it sound more like a statement than a question.

“Yeah. You know me?”

“No. But I’ve heard of the Triwizard Tournament. And judging by your age—and Miss Delacour’s attitude—it wasn’t hard to guess who you are... As far as I know, she doesn’t know many Brits.”

“He saved me,” Gabrielle said with a cheerful smile.

“I heard about that. The Quidditch World Cup... that group of reckless Dark wizards,” Professor Viktor said flatly.

Maybe that was just his nature—he seemed indifferent to everything.

He looked at Kyle again. “Normally, outsiders aren’t allowed in here. Even Hogwarts students are no exception.”

“Then why did you change your mind?” Kyle asked.

Viktor didn’t answer directly. Instead, he asked, “Have you read the Emerald Tablet?”

“Of course not,” Kyle shook his head. “Honestly, no one even knows if that legendary item really exists. How could I have read it?”

“Then how did you recognize the source of the inscription above the classroom?”

“I read someone’s manuscript once. It just happened to have that same line—and the source was noted,” Kyle said. “I didn’t understand it at the time, but after studying Ancient Runes, it made sense.”

“Nicolas?”

“Yeah.” Kyle nodded. He didn’t deny it.

“I see.” Viktor nodded and muttered under his breath, “Looks like Olympe wasn’t lying to me after all. She told me Nicolas had taken quite a liking to a Hogwarts student... I thought she was joking.”

“That’s all thanks to Professor Dumbledore,” Kyle said. “He brought me there, and—”

“No, it’s got little to do with Albus,” Viktor cut in, waving his hand. “Very few people have the patience to learn the dull and complex Ancient Runic script. You’re the third I’ve met.”

“Who were the first two?” Kyle asked instinctively.

Viktor didn’t answer. Instead, he reached out and patted the large brass furnace beside him. “Do you know what this is?”

“Is this a test?” Kyle looked up.

“If you want to see it that way... yes,” Professor Viktor said plainly. “This classroom isn’t open to anyone who lacks interest in alchemy—regardless of who they are or what status they hold.”

“Maybe you learned Ancient Runes for the sake of spells, but if you recognize this, it means you’ve studied alchemy thoroughly.”

“What if I say I don’t know it?”

“Then I’ll have to ask you to go tour somewhere else,” Viktor replied.

Kanna immediately shot Kyle a nervous glance.

“Alright, I actually do know.” Kyle didn’t press the issue. He just shrugged and said, “Alchemical Converter. Honestly, you don’t see these often.”

“What do you mean, not often?” Gabrielle was the one surprised this time.

She had been using that furnace ever since she started learning alchemy. She had assumed every alchemist had one at home.

But Kyle had just said it was rare—and even Professor Viktor hadn’t corrected him...

Could this be some kind of incredible treasure? Gabrielle wondered.

“What is this?” Kanna asked.

Of everyone present, she was the least familiar with alchemy.

“An Alchemical Converter,” Kyle repeated. “It can replace the process of engraving magic runes, alter the form and structure of matter, simplify the alchemical process, and improve efficiency. But...”

He instinctively glanced at Gabrielle and Professor Viktor, leaving the sentence unfinished.

“No need to be embarrassed,” Professor Viktor said nonchalantly. “Traditional alchemists look down on this kind of thing. They see it as a shortcut for the lazy, a gimmick. They also look down on anyone who needs tools to complete the alchemy process.”

“Exactly. That’s why I said it’s rare. People capable of making one wouldn’t actually use it,” Kyle said, spreading his hands.

“But isn’t it really convenient?” Kanna still didn’t quite understand.

“Let me put it another way,” Kyle said, thinking for a moment. “It’s kind of like... a self-stirring cauldron. Does that make more sense?”

“Oh, I get it now,” Kanna said immediately.

Stirring potions and adjusting the heat were crucial steps in potion brewing—arguably the most important. After all, anyone could throw ingredients into a cauldron.

The introduction of the Self-Stirring Cauldron eliminated those steps, turning potion-making into a simple game of “toss the ingredients.”

The cauldron’s inventor, Gaspard Shingleton, became a household name in the wizarding world, appearing on Chocolate Frog cards and in textbooks for his contribution to simplifying potion-making.

However, those who genuinely loved potion-making, or had achieved any real skill in it, didn’t think highly of the invention.

That was because the Self-Stirring Cauldron could only brew a handful of basic potions, and even then, the results were overly standardized—just barely passable.

If this furnace worked the same way, then Kyle’s point was clear.

“Well, not exactly. Alchemy and potion-making aren’t the same,” Professor Viktor said, glancing at the brass furnace. “To study alchemy, students must first master Ancient Runes.”

“It’s a vast and complex language system. By the time most students have a decent grasp of it, they’re nearly ready to graduate. And if that’s the case, what’s the point of offering the course at all?”

“But what if students become reliant on the converter?” Kyle asked. “Just tossing something in is way easier than struggling to learn Ancient Runes.”

“They’ll find out by fifth year that conversion furnaces aren’t allowed in the graduation exams,” Professor Viktor said.

“Then it’s not a problem,” Kyle nodded.

For students—especially younger ones—a bit of assistance was definitely helpful. At the very least, it could help them get familiar with the process early on and build a foundation for future alchemy studies.

“Any other questions?”

“Actually, yes,” Kyle said without hesitation. “If you have time...”

“There’s no alchemy class today,” Professor Viktor replied.

Kyle’s eyes lit up.

He stayed right there for the next few hours, firing off question after question.

From choosing foundational textbooks, to grading the difficulty of various topics, to discussing specific assessment criteria... some of the questions even went beyond the scope of alchemy, but Professor Viktor answered them all.

He even pulled out several student textbooks, from third through seventh year, carefully circling key points in each one.

And just like that, the two of them discussed alchemy from afternoon until evening.

Kanna couldn’t join the conversation, but with so many strange and fascinating things in the room—and Gabrielle keeping her company—she didn’t feel bored at all.

Outside the window, the sky gradually darkened. As night fell, several magical lamps lit up on their own, illuminating the classroom as brightly as day.

Gabrielle sat there, clearly bored, rubbing her stomach.

It was Kanna’s first time here, so naturally she was intrigued. But Gabrielle was different—she’d seen everything in this room countless times. It had been fine at first, but as the hours dragged on, she grew more and more restless.

More importantly, she was hungry.

Seeing that the two of them showed no signs of stopping, Gabrielle finally walked over and took the initiative.

“Professor, Kyle, should we go eat first...?”

“Eat?” Professor Viktor looked up and glanced outside. “Is it that late already?”

You’re just realizing that now... the girl grumbled inwardly.

“Alright then,” Kyle said, rubbing his eyes. “I didn’t notice before, but now I’m starting to get hungry too. I just hope the food at Beauxbatons is decent.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that at all—this is France,” Professor Viktor said, cracking a rare smile.

“Come with me. I’d guess Olympe has everything ready by now.”

The group left the classroom. With a wave of Viktor’s hand, a lift appeared before them and carried them smoothly back down to the first floor.

Like at Hogwarts, Beauxbatons’ dining hall was also in the Great Hall, but it was much grander. Instead of the classic long tables, it featured individual round tables, each elegantly draped with fine linens, neatly arranged cutlery, and even lit candles at the center.

Numerous well-dressed servers moved gracefully among the tables, creating an atmosphere steeped in formality and ceremony.

“Ah, Olympe is already waiting for us,” Viktor said as he looked around, then led them straight to the front of the hall. “Follow me.”

Madam Maxime was seated at a large round table. Viktor arranged for Kyle and Gabrielle to sit on her left.

Whispers rippled through the hall—everyone was speculating about the two unfamiliar faces who had actually kept the Headmistress waiting for over ten minutes.

Only the boy named Jaffar looked pale. He had never expected that the person he’d mocked earlier would turn out to be the Headmistress’s guest—and judging by the formality of the meal, a distinguished one at that.

Now he could only hope that the Brit—the British gentleman—wouldn’t go tattling to Madam Maxime. Otherwise, copying textbooks would be the least of his worries.

Fortunately for Jaffar, his fears were completely unfounded. Kyle had already forgotten the incident.

At that moment, he was seated beside Madam Maxime, staring blankly at the dishes the waiters were setting down.

They were all classic French fare.

Lobster bisque, flaky meat pie, Provençal ratatouille, boeuf bourguignon, Marseille fish stew, and of course, the renowned foie gras...

Kyle took a bite of foie gras, then sampled a piece of beef.

He had to admit—something in his mind wavered at that moment.

Now this was gourmet food. The ingredients, the cooking techniques—everything was flawless.

By comparison, what kind of miserable excuse for meals had he been enduring before?

Kyle didn’t say a word. He just buried his head in the meal, eating intently.

Madam Maxime watched him, swirling a glass of wine in her hand, a flicker of sly amusement and disdain in her eyes.

With Britain’s meager recipes and dreary cooking methods, what could even House-elves possibly produce that was worth eating?

Maybe France hadn’t produced many legendary wizards—none on the level of Dumbledore, certainly—but when it came to culinary arts, even ten Hogwarts kitchens combined couldn’t hold a candle to Beauxbatons.

And this wasn’t even a typical dinner—it was a banquet she had meticulously prepared, the kind normally reserved for the Start-of-Term Feast.

Kyle kept eating for a full thirty minutes before finally setting down his utensils. He slouched back in his chair, making no attempt to maintain appearances, and didn’t want to move at all.

He was starting to regret it a little. If he’d known it would be like this, he might’ve just stuck to some dry rations. But if he had to choose again...

Well, he’d still come.

After tasting it once, there was simply no turning back.

“Gabrielle,” Madam Maxime said with a smile, “would you please take Miss Prince to the guest room?”

“No, no, that’s not necessary,” Kanna quickly waved her hands in refusal, still too full to move. “It’s really no trouble—we can head back ourselves.”

“It’s just a guest room, what’s so troublesome about that?” Madam Maxime replied casually. “If you’re uncomfortable, I can ask Fleur to accompany you. She’s been wanting an excuse to try out the school’s guest rooms.”

There’s a service like that?

Kyle instinctively looked up—but the next second, he immediately dropped his gaze, pretending nothing had happened.

Thankfully, no one noticed him. That was a close call. One downside to eating too much—your brain tends to short out.

Kanna was still about to refuse, but Viktor spoke up.

“This was actually my suggestion. Kyle and I might need to continue our discussion later. If it gets too late, it won’t be convenient for you to head back. It’s better to stay the night.”

“Exactly,” Gabrielle added from the side. “You can always go back after breakfast tomorrow. There’s no rush.”

Whether it was Viktor’s words or the mention of breakfast that convinced her, Kanna agreed.

She gave Kyle a quick glance, then followed Gabrielle out of the Great Hall.

Kyle remained seated. He was waiting for Viktor.

In truth, he had asked almost everything he wanted to during the afternoon. Even if he’d been interrupted, the rest wouldn’t take long to finish.

As a master of alchemy, Viktor should have known that—but from what he’d just said, it seemed like their conversation was far from over.

Still, he said nothing, and Kyle didn’t ask.

“Well then, I’ll leave you to it,” Madam Maxime said, also rising from the table.

Viktor gave her a nod, then led Kyle back to the alchemy classroom.

But this time, the moment they stepped inside, Viktor raised his hand with a wave.

Several red runes lit up along the classroom walls.

The door immediately closed and locked, and the curtains drew shut on their own, sealing the entire room in.

Kyle instinctively gripped his wand.

He trusted Professor Viktor, but it never hurt to stay cautious.

“Don’t be nervous,” Viktor said calmly. “What I’m about to tell you isn’t something others should hear.”

“There’s no one else here now. And even if someone pressed their ear to the door, they wouldn’t hear a word of our conversation.”

“What is it you want to talk about?” Kyle asked. “This doesn’t sound like it’s about alchemy.”

“It’s somewhat related,” Viktor replied, turning to face him with a serious expression.

“Albus Dumbledore—did he use a Time-Turner to travel back a hundred years?”