Chapter Ninety-Seven: The Events of Ten Years Ago

"Look at the tip of the kitten's claw," Newt said to Xiven.

Xiven leaned closer, tilting his head the way Newt had, and looked at the kitten's tiny claw tip, which Newt had coaxed into view by pressing the soft pad of its paw.

"Is there something special about it?" Xiven asked after studying it for a long while, still unable to make sense of it.

Newt turned to glance at him, then pointed at the claw tip. "See this part at the very end? Isn't it a little darker than the rest?"

Xiven nodded to show that he saw it.

"That is actually a trait of the Zouwu," Newt explained. "Because Zouwu are so good at running and love to leap, the tips of their claws are tougher than those of other large felines. That darkening in color is a sign of that quality."

"Also, look here." Newt was about to point out more, but the kitten seemed unwilling and gave a displeased meow.

Newt, ever considerate, let go of the paw and scratched the kitten's head, earning a contented purr.

Then he turned back to Xiven and said, "Normally, a feline's claws grow naturally, and once they reach a certain length they extend past the paw, which affects the way they walk. So when their claws grow too long, they usually bite off the excess themselves and then sharpen them again."

"However, Zouwu claws are different. These dark sections are not only tough, but after a while they can also shed off naturally. That's why there are no bite marks on this kitten's claws."

'How does he notice details this tiny?' Xiven nodded with a smile on the surface, while inside he had already been so shocked that he had gone numb. 'As expected of the most celebrated magical zoologist of our time...'

"Those are about the Zouwu traits I can make out for now, but I still haven't found any of the cat-panther's features on this kitten," Newt went on. "I suppose you'll only truly feel them once you've experienced the cat-panther's abilities yourself."

"Uh, you don't mean you also want to be knocked flat by the kitten like Professor Kettleburn, do you?" Xiven said, his expression slightly unnatural.

"What? Silvanus has already tried it?" Newt suddenly asked.

"Ah, yes..." Xiven said, startled.

"Unfortunately, I still don't know exactly what this cat's abilities do. And we're on the move, so it wouldn't be right to delay important business because of it," Newt said regretfully. "Otherwise, I would certainly want to experience her hypnotic power myself."

Xiven: "..."

...

After more than a dozen hours of travel, the European Magic Star Express passed through several stations and finally arrived at the destination the two of them sought: Paris.

As always, Newt picked up his suitcase and stepped off the train with Xiven.

Once they were outside the station, Newt held out his hand to Xiven.

Xiven froze for a moment, not understanding what he meant.

"I think we can save some time," Newt said, turning to him with a smile.

"Oh, all right." Xiven hurriedly took hold of Newt's arm.

Then their figures twisted and vanished from where they stood.

When they appeared again, they were standing on a street steeped in history. Antique buildings of marble stood in a row along the roadside.

They were beside the entrance to a café, where a number of witches and wizards in robes were drinking coffee in comfort.

Newt looked at the place with a nostalgic expression and said softly, "It was right around here, ten years ago, that Gellert Grindelwald summoned his followers."

"I heard he once wanted to destroy all of Paris?" Xiven asked after a pause.

Newt nodded, a trace of lingering fear crossing his face. "At that time, Grindelwald unleashed a powerful magical fire in the Père Lachaise Cemetery. I even suspected that the flames were more destructive than Fiendfyre."

"If Flamel hadn't arrived in time and helped us bring the spell to an end, it would have continued to grow as it devoured everything in its path, and in the end all of Paris would have been consumed by fire."

What kind of flame could possibly destroy a great city like Paris? Xiven could hardly imagine it, and even less could he accept that this man would become their enemy.

"Didn't he care about his followers? Surely not all of them could have escaped Paris?" Xiven asked.

"Actually, they didn't need to escape," Newt said, shaking his head. "I don't know how Grindelwald did it, but his flames were able to keep everyone who supported his ideas completely unharmed."

At Newt's words, Xiven's heart grew heavy.

For the first time, he understood with such clarity just how formidable the Dark Lord his Aunt Veda followed truly was.

Newt seemed to notice Xiven's dark mood and tried to comfort him. "There's no need to put so much pressure on yourself. Don't forget, we still have Dumbledore."

"Yes, we still have Dumbledore." Xiven nodded, but he still could not stop himself from asking the question that had long troubled him, and troubled the entire wizarding world as well. "But why doesn't Dumbledore stop him himself?"

Newt fell silent for a moment, then still shook his head and said to Xiven, "I can't decide on my own to tell you that. But you can ask Dumbledore yourself."

After that, he said no more, only leading Xiven to the corner of the street.

"The card," he said briefly.

Xiven took out the golden card from the space within his pocket watch.

The instant the card appeared, the stone buildings along the street suddenly extended outward, and another ancient stone house abruptly appeared before Xiven's eyes.

The house was three stories high, with an exquisitely crafted exterior. Between each floor ran elaborate carvings and ornamentation. Elegant windows of multicolored glass blocks covered the entire wall of the first floor.

Near the side facing the other street stood an old wooden door, connected to the road by a few steps. The wall on the other side was bare save for a sign hanging there, its lettering long blurred by time: 21 Montmorency Street.

"Are we going to knock?" Xiven asked, feeling a little nervous at the thought that this was where Nicholas Flamel lived.

The Indestructible Stronghold Lord

Newt gave a soft laugh, took the card from Xiven's hand, and walked casually to the door.

As Newt approached, the wind chimes outside gave off a crisp and pleasant ringing.

Then the metal gate opened of its own accord.

"Come on. Nick should already be waiting for us inside," Newt said, looking back at Xiven with a smile.

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