Young Celestial Wizard [Celestial Grimoire, Harry Potter]

Nicolas Flamel stared at the collection of glass vials sitting on his laboratory table, each one containing a different sample of the impurities that had been expelled from Harry's body over the past few months.

He picked up one of the vials and held it up to the magical light floating above his workstation.

The substance inside looked like oil mixed with ash, but when he'd tested it earlier, the results had been unlike anything in his centuries of alchemical experience.

This particular sample had been expelled when Harry gained that initial beauty enhancement. His body had purged what appeared to be every physical imperfection he'd ever possessed. Nicolas had collected nearly a full liter of various expelled materials that day.

The problem was that none of it made sense from an alchemical perspective.

Nicolas set down the vial and rubbed his temples. He'd been working on this for weeks now, trying to create some kind of potion that could replicate even a fraction of Harry's purification process.

But every attempt had failed spectacularly.

The impurities themselves contained no magical signature that he could identify. They weren't cursed, they weren't infused with dark magic, they weren't even particularly toxic.

When he'd tried to use them as a base for experimental potions, the results had ranged from completely inert to mildly explosive.

Nothing useful.

The worst part was that he could tell the impurities were important. His alchemical instincts, honed over six centuries of practice, were screaming that these samples contained secrets that could advance magical medicine by hundreds of years. But every analytical technique he possessed just showed him ordinary organic matter.

It was like trying to study sunlight by examining shadows.

Nicolas glanced at the cabinet across the room where Harry's Elixir of Life sat in its crystal vial, glowing with that soft golden radiance that never dimmed. It was hope, distilled and perfected, and he had no idea how to even begin to understand it.

He sighed heavily.

That was an even more frustrating puzzle.

His own Philosopher's Stone, created through immense sacrifice and the most advanced alchemical techniques known to wizardkind, could indeed produce the Elixir of Life. Nicolas had been drinking it for over six hundred years. But compared to what Harry had casually handed them... his version was flawed beyond words.

Nicolas's Elixir of Life extended lifespan, but it came with costs. The drinker gradually became dependent on the elixir's influence. Stop taking it, and death followed within months as the accumulated years caught up all at once.

It also required constant refinement and adjustment as the drinker's body slowly built up resistance to its effects.

Harry's version was no doubt perfect.

The issue was that Nicolas had subjected the vial to every test he could devise, and the results were always the same.

The elixir contained no detectable ingredients, followed no known alchemical principles, and showed no signs of degradation despite sitting in his laboratory for almost two years.

It had long become obvious to him that whatever or whoever had created this Elixir of Life and gifted it to Harry had purposefully made it impossible to analyze. Even if he used his most destructive alchemical tools to break it down completely, Nicolas doubted it would reveal anything useful.

The creator clearly didn't want anyone reverse-engineering their work.

By now, it was useless to continue avoiding the obvious solution.

Nicolas walked over to the cabinet and picked up the vial, feeling its warmth through the crystal. The golden liquid inside swirled gently, as if responding to his touch.

Albus had always claimed to accept death as the next great adventure, but Nicolas doubted whether that was truly the case. Throughout his friendship, he'd noticed the directions Albus's research often took from the few times he sought guidance. The man had spent considerable time studying obscure branches of magic related to souls, consciousness, and the boundary between life and death.

Whether Albus had discovered a way to avoid death entirely or simply found methods to remain clear-minded in the afterlife, Nicolas wasn't certain. But he was convinced that Albus wasn't as innocent about mortality as he pretended to be.

None of them were truly innocent when it came to the fear of dying.

But why would Albus risk his consciousness on untested theories when there might not be any need?

Harry was immensely powerful and growing stronger every week.

At this point, the boy was practically an afterlife unto himself. If Harry could guarantee their immortality and might even be able to preserve their consciousness in the event of their deaths, why risk everything on a gamble with unknown magic?

Even if Albus wished to see his sister Ariana again, hadn't Harry already mentioned that he could open stable gateways into the local afterlife? The boy's abilities were advancing so rapidly that it seemed only a matter of time before he could take control over death itself.

Surely Albus would agree to take the Elixir of Life now, rather than continue his dangerous research into alternatives...

Nicolas smiled as he thought about the boy they'd helped raise over the past few years.

Compared to his centuries of life, he hadn't actually spent that long with Harry. But this period outshone many decades of his and Perenelle's existence. He was genuinely thankful that Albus had sent Harry to them, because the child had clearly needed parental figures at that point in his life who could dedicate their full attention to him.

The professors at Hogwarts did their best, but raising a child while managing hundreds of students was never going to be adequate. Harry had required careful guidance, especially as his mysterious benefactor continued offering him increasingly dangerous powers. The more power Harry gained, the more effort they'd all invested in keeping him good-natured and morally grounded.

At one point, when the angelic nature had first appeared, it had seemed like Harry might swing toward religious extremism.

Thankfully, that phase had mostly resolved itself as the boy learned to balance his various Virtues.

Harry was fiercely independent and remarkably resistant to outside influence. He would disregard what anyone else thought if he felt he was morally correct. That could be admirable or terrifying, depending on whether his moral compass remained true.

The challenge was that Harry's power made traditional consequences meaningless.

If a normal child made poor choices, reality would eventually teach them better. But Harry could reshape reality to match his choices instead.

The only thing keeping him on the right path was his own internal moral framework.

Nicolas was just considering whether to send Albus an owl about the Elixir when the cottage's wards suddenly activated, informing him that the emergency portkey for Elder Blood incidents had been triggered.

He quickly Apparated to the small room they'd set up specifically for Harry's dimensional mishaps. The room contained a pedestal with a simple wooden disc that would activate if Harry's Elder Blood transported him to another universe.

Perenelle Apparated into the room beside him with a concerned expression.

Nicolas didn't waste time with explanations. He immediately opened the letter that had appeared on the pedestal and read aloud: "I'll be missing for a while. If you want to see me, just enter the portal!"

Nicolas folded the letter and looked at Perenelle. "Well, that's not ominous at all."

"At least he left us a way to follow him this time," Perenelle said, though her voice carried the same concern that Nicolas felt. "Remember when he disappeared to that world for a month? We had no idea if he was even alive."

They walked out of the emergency room and down the hallway to what had once been their guest bedroom. Harry had installed a permanent Spatial Gate there several weeks ago, connecting their cottage directly to his Heaven-Earth Soul world.

Nicolas paused. "I should bring some supplies. He might need some help."

"Good thinking." Perenelle nodded. "I'll grab the emergency kit from upstairs."

Nicolas quickly gathered several items from his collection. A vial of concentrated Healing Draught that could mend broken bones in minutes, even if Harry probably wouldn't need it. His emergency Philosopher's Stone, smaller than his main one but still capable of producing Elixir of Life. And a small crystal that Nicolas had created in recent weeks that contained enough stored magical energy to power major spells for hours.

He met Perenelle back at the portal room. She was carrying a leather satchel that he knew contained antidotes for various poisons, emergency Portkeys, and a few other useful items they'd collected over their centuries of travel.

"Ready?" Nicolas asked.

"As ready as we can be for whatever Harry's gotten himself into this time," Perenelle replied.

They were about to step through the portal when something golden and furry came jumping out of it at high speed.

Chrysa skidded to a stop in front of them with something clenched between her teeth.

"Another letter?" Nicolas asked, kneeling down.

Chrysa dropped the paper and sat back on her haunches, looking up at them. Her golden eyes were wide and she kept glancing back at the portal.

Nicolas unfolded the letter and read it quickly. His eyebrows rose higher with each sentence.

"What does it say?" Perenelle asked.

"He wants us to bring house-elf blood," Nicolas said slowly. "Apparently there's a 'massive issue' and he needs it urgently."

"House-elf blood?" Perenelle repeated, looking puzzled. "What could he possibly need that for?"

Nicolas shook his head. "Only one way to find out."

Perenelle quickly walked over toward their storage room. The Flamels had spent over six centuries collecting rare magical materials, and their underground storage area contained samples of nearly everything imaginable. Blood from various magical creatures, powdered phoenix feathers, crystallized unicorn tears, even a few drops of blood from magical species that had gone extinct centuries ago.

She returned within minutes carrying a small vial filled with red liquid.

"Ready?" Nicolas asked.

They walked through the Spatial Gate together and found themselves in a small, windowless room carved from solid stone. Harry had built this place specifically as a secure entry point to his world, buried deep underground where no future inhabitants would accidentally stumble across it. The only way in or out was through teleportation.

Harry's Human Avatar was waiting for them with a relieved smile.

"Thank Merlin you're here," Harry said. "I was starting to think you'd decided not to come."

Nicolas frowned. "What do you mean? We came as soon as we got your letter."

"Really? But it's been nearly three hours since I've arrived in the new world."

"Three hours?" Perenelle looked confused. "We only received the letter five minutes ago."

Harry blinked, then shook his head with a thoughtful expression. "There must be some kind of time dilation between our worlds. Interesting. Well, it doesn't matter since it's only beneficial."

He raised one palm upward and a myriad of colored flames shot out, rapidly constructing a wide three-dimensional image in the air.

"Let me show you what happened," Harry said.

The flames formed the image of Harry flying through the air above a large river. Below him, massive three-legged machines were firing brilliant blue beams at fleeing crowds of people.

"These are called Tripods," Harry explained as the fire-image showed him dodging the deadly rays. "They're alien war machines that have invaded Earth. Those blue beams are death rays that travel at light speed. Any wizard caught by one of those would be turned to ash instantly."

Nicolas and Perenelle watched in horrified fascination as the fire-image showed Harry narrowly avoiding beam after beam, his precognitive abilities being the only thing keeping him alive.

"Without my Inner Eye giving me a couple seconds of warning, I would have died immediately," Harry continued. "Their shields absorb energy, and the only thing that can truly pierce their defenses are my Citrinitas Spears. Even a spell like the Severing Charm was only capable of creating a small cut that was closed an instant later."

The image shifted to show Harry hurling translucent spears that punched straight through the machines' protective barriers, causing them to collapse.

"How many of these things are there?" Nicolas asked.

"Hundreds of thousands, possibly millions," Harry said coldly. "They've attacked every major city on Earth simultaneously. New York, London, Paris, Tokyo... everywhere."

Nicolas nodded slowly as he watched Harry pulling drowning people from a river, using his Life Flames to warm and heal the survivors.

"I managed to rescue over ten thousand people from certain death, but that's barely a fraction of what's needed. While I was saving these few thousand, millions were probably dying elsewhere."

Perenelle gasped as the image showed Harry opening massive portals and evacuating crowds of terrified people.

"I moved everyone I rescued into my Human World Texture," Harry explained. "Though I'm planning to create a new Texture soon and relocate them there, since I had originally dedicated the Human World to the Wizarding community."

The fire-image shifted again, showing Harry flying at incredible speed, destroying Tripod after Tripod while rescuing more survivors.

"I made contact with the American military and flew toward Colorado to coordinate with their government. Along the way, I destroyed over forty more Tripods and rescued another twenty thousand people."

Nicolas did some quick mental math. "Thirty thousand people... that's a small town's worth of refugees."

"Exactly," Harry said. "And that's where the problem lies. These people need housing, food, water, medical care, sanitation... everything required for a functioning society. I could use Doubling Charms to duplicate food or expend large amounts of World Power to create animals for them to kill, but there's a limit. When there's too many people, it's beyond what I can handle alone in the long-term."

Harry looked at the vial of house-elf blood that Perenelle was holding.

"House-elves would solve most of these problems. They have powerful innate magic for cooking, cleaning, construction, and organization. More importantly, they actually want to serve people. It's built into their nature."

"You want to create an entire population of house-elves?" Nicolas asked.

"I don't see any other choice," Harry replied. "This invasion is going to create millions of refugees. Maybe tens of millions. I need magical assistance on a massive scale, and house-elves are the most practical solution."

Perenelle handed him the vial. "But creating sentient beings in such large numbers..."

"I know it's not ideal," Harry admitted. "But I'll give them full free will and individuality. They'll choose to help because they want to. And honestly, given the alternative of letting millions of people starve or die from exposure..."

He trailed off, but his meaning was clear.

"How many are you planning to create?" Nicolas asked.

Harry considered this for a moment. "Probably around a thousand to start with. One house-elf for every thirty refugees should be sufficient for basic needs. If more people arrive, I can create more elves."

Harry clenched his fist and the fire-image dissipated into sparks that faded away.

"The truth is," he said quietly, "I don't think the planet can be saved. I'll discuss options with the American government at NORAD once my Inner Eye recovers enough for safe travel. But honestly? I suspect their best-case scenario without my involvement is hiding in underground bunkers and hoping the aliens get bored. But that's just delayed extinction…"

Harry looked directly at them. "Which is why I'm focusing on evacuation. Fighting this war is a fool's errand. But giving people a future... that's different. I can't save their world, but I can give them a new home, and let them rebuild their civilization somewhere safe."

"A noble goal," Nicolas said carefully. "But creating an entire world for millions of refugees..."

"I'm already working on it." Harry gestured toward the ceiling. "Right now, a portion of my Will is dedicated to creating a new Texture. I'm calling it the Muggle World. It only has the Laws of Physics for now, but that should be more than enough for a civilization of muggles. And I should probably rename the Human World to the Wizarding World by now."

Perenelle nodded slowly. "And the house-elves would help manage the transition."

"Exactly. Food, shelter, organization, all the basic needs while the refugees figure out how to rebuild their society." Harry held up the vial of house-elf blood. "One drop should give me their complete species template. Then I can create as many as needed and ensure they can use their magic in the Muggle World through the Origin Law Tether."

Harry paused, then added, "There's one more thing. Once my Human Avatar leaves this world, I'm planning to adjust the time ratio. I'll speed up time here and slow it down outside. That way, the refugees will have months or years to settle in while only hours pass in the invaded world. Much more manageable."

"Clever," Nicolas admitted. "But that means..."

"That I can't stand around talking much longer," Harry finished. "Every minute I spend here is another ten thousand people dying out there without any hope of survival. And I can't risk bringing you two along."

"Harry," Perenelle started, "we've faced dangerous situations before-"

"Not like this." Harry shook his head firmly. "These death rays travel at light speed. The turning required for Apparition takes a small amount of time, and that's more than enough for a ray to turn you both to ash. No matter how powerful someone may be, they are powerless in this situation unless they have immense durability far beyond my own, can move at light speed or have reliable precognition. I know Nicolas can use divination, but that type isn't useful in battle."

He tucked the vial into his enchanted belt. "I should get back. Every second counts."

"Harry," Nicolas called out. "Be careful. I know you're powerful, but..."

"I know." Harry paused. "These aliens are the most dangerous enemy I've ever faced. Their technology is specifically designed to kill instantly from long range. One mistake and I'm dead."

"Then don't make any mistakes," Perenelle said with forced lightness.

"I'll do my best." Harry's grin was sharp, but his eyes were serious. "In a war like this, when everything seems lost, you can't just wait for a miracle. You have to create your own hope. And sometimes," his grin widened slightly, "hope looks a lot like an alien tripping over its own tentacles. It's a good thing I've always been lucky."

With that, he left Nicolas and Perenelle alone in the entry chamber.

Nicolas looked at his wife. "Well, this is certainly more excitement than I expected when I woke up this morning."

"At least it's not boring," Perenelle replied. "But I do worry about him. Creating an entire civilization while fighting a war..."

"He'll manage," Nicolas said confidently. "He always does. The question is whether we'll be able to keep up with him."