It was a softly sunny afternoon, and young men with the marks of growth walked through the green hills, through the thick woods, towards a town where they intended to stop and rest. This tranquil town surrounded by nature was meant to be mapped off the map of his travels, but on a whim he was drawn by its winding streets and stone-paved appearance from the distant mountains. What's more, finding a place to sit and have a drink is probably one of the most comfortable ways to travel.

Down the hill, there was a slight wind, blowing the young man's already messy black hair. He raised his hand, brushing his hair away, just in time to see a young woman with a white umbrella standing in front of the easel in the distance, the brush in her hand carefully carving on the canvas. He noticed that her long hair was curly, and the breeze that messed his hair made her hair rise far and match the fluttering hem of her skirt, as if it could just touch the clouds scattered like catkins in the sky. What a refreshing scenery, the young man thought that he had walked all the way, and everywhere he went, the scenery was like an oil painting. Is the woman who painted the same fascination with the scenery as he was? The difference is that she left it on the canvas, and he used his own "frame" to make the woman who painted it a part of the painting.

Gradually, the town's roads opened up before my eyes, and almost every small house had a small terrace, fresh flowers and plants were placed between the wrought iron railings and various window frames, and the yards in front of each house were separated by neatly trimmed low shrubs.

The young man walked briskly along the roads made of round stones, slowly admiring the surrounding buildings. It was a very different place from the cities and villages he had visited before, and every place he had traveled to brought him new feelings. After turning the corner, a road appears that is roughly the street where the town's shops are located, and the glass windows of each shop are open and clean, and the various goods are displayed behind the glass, and the fresh bread exudes a mellow wheat aroma.

There were more pedestrians than before, but they were not a lot of them, but they all seemed very friendly, and occasionally one or two acquaintances greeted them warmly. This even gave him the urge to gossip, and after inquiring about the taverns in town or the place selling coffee just below the main street, the young man decided to stop by and buy some souvenirs.

After picking out a knick-knack or two, the young man stumbled under a wooden ladder. Next to the ladder is a row of paint buckets. He put down the suitcase in his hand and sat down on it, staring at the person on the ladder with some surprise and some curiosity.

The man at the top of the ladder was busy working on a sign in indigo suspender jeans, his rubber-gloved hands picking up the corners of the letters and the other forcefully shoveling, a skilful gesture that showed that the man had been doing the job for some time, and that the well-coordinated coordination and rhythm of the hands seemed to be not doing a paint job himself.

After "watching" for almost five minutes, the young man decided to stand up and try to talk, and he said to the man on the wooden ladder, "Sir." I thought your job was to paint, not scrape. ”

The painter stopped scraping, and then he looked back, his hand on the side of the ladder tightening suddenly. Eventually, he looked at the people below and said slowly, "Only by going blank first, can you start scribbling new content again." ”

As he spoke, the young man met his eyes, which were eyes that made people understand the hidden story at a glance, and even more so, the eyes that made people want to explore the secrets behind them in an instant.

They didn't speak again for a long time, the young man looked at the completely unfamiliar face, and the person on the ladder was a little more shocked and vigilant. So, with a faint sigh, the latter turned back and picked up the scraper again, and began the work at hand, with the obvious intention of not giving the young man any more attention, as if he had not yet answered, as if the two had never seen each other at all.

The young man was not in a hurry to speak, of course things would be like this, there are no simple things in the adult world, Andrew did not think that things would go smoothly in the country, especially the picture of hell in his body was still cheering.

With a little thought, he could read the meaning of his words to let him go. But he wasn't going to stop there, and that wasn't another reason for him to set out on his trip.

After a pause, he blinked and spoke again:

"Your words, sir, have always been quite benevolent. He tried to sound sincere and faithful in his tone, "You see, I don't mean to disturb your work, but you must have been working for a while, I've already visited a lot of shops on the way here, and I'm going to go to the front to rest at the moment, since we can meet each other, why don't you go with you?"

The scraper in the painter's hand did not mean to stop at all, and said in a non-serious tone: "Go away." ”

The young man laughed at this, not feeling at all that he had been bombarded, "You are still so funny, Monsieur Lemay. It seems that you are still as serious as you were back then, and you must finish your work before you can come down, so I don't mind waiting for you here a little longer. ”

"I don't know what you're talking about," the painter began to get impatient, apparently interrupted by the interruption of his work again, "since your eyes are bad, are your glasses also an ornament?" Please see my profession, I am an ordinary painter, not a Monsieur Le May at all, and I am very busy now, and I am not one of those idle people, and I obviously have work to do. And," he said, in a long tone, "I also know that people often say that you don't have to stand under a painter's ladder for long periods of time unless you're working." Slightly unintentionally, he also threw off the scraped dry paint debris and debris off it. "So anyway, wherever you go, but please don't bother me here. ”

"Haha, so you're still a humorous wizard. In that case, I'll sit on a chair across the street and wait for you. The young man said quickly, then bowed his back, and used a more earnest tone: "Please, Mr. Lemay, when you are done, I will delay you for a few words, at least let me know how you have been doing all these years, especially since everyone thinks you... Anyway, please. ”

The painter known as "Monsieur Lemay" did not comment on this passage, and after a brief pause, he continued to shovel the old lacquer letters on the sign.

The young man immediately took this as a kind of acquiescence, knowing that if he said anything more he would only disappear, he immediately picked up his suitcase and walked across the street, staring at the man on the ladder without letting go of his eyes, but his mind was racing to think about what to do next.

He wasn't sure if one person would be able to solve the matter, and he counted no more than five ordinary wizards in the world who could see through his disguise and have "deep friendly" conversations with the legendary wizard in front of him, and half of them were basically dead.

Now he can only be here alone to secretly think about countermeasures, although after all these years of experience, he is sure that he is no longer the kid who annoyed him so much that he was abused all day long, but even if the past is like smoke, it still has a far-reaching impact.

Because in the next few dozen minutes, he first found out that he was extremely wise not to call him Nicol Lemay by name in the first place to confirm whether it was him, so that he had the opportunity to talk, at least the first battle was won. This was thanks to one of the first things he had learned during his travels, and apparently he himself was a man who had always been troubled by his name.

"Cyplius" he silently remembered the name of the legendary wizard by everyone who passed by to greet him, and sure enough, he was still a step ahead, this name was particularly Roman as soon as he heard it, he must remember to go back and find Hermione, in short, he felt that it sounded much more upscale than the other Nicol, Nicol Lemay. He tugged at the bangs on his forehead, and the bright sun and comfortable sea breeze made Andrew forget about the hellish demon roar for a moment.

"Oh, Merlin, it's always the toughest problem I've got to solve. He pondered quickly whether he needed to immediately inform others who cared about his legendary wizard as much as he did, and the answer was: no. In this way, those people will come in person in the next moment, and it will not be possible to talk and observe before sending a message, this person will first take measures to make sure that he does not say it, after all he has managed to make the whole world think that he is dead for so long. He continued to think about it, then only by preemptively, he could use keeping this secluded secret as his biggest bargaining chip at the moment in exchange for more information.

Then, he needs to carefully choreograph his own questions, if he only has a few words as he just "agreed", how can he ask more content without the other party feeling offended, even if he feels that the other party has already felt offended from the moment he appears. Either way, someone else might really ask about the situation or something, but this person means a lot to him, and as Merlin testifies, he will never let this "opportunity" slip away from the tip of his wand, and he must be cautious in his words, even if not like Slytherin, but not too much of the Gryffindor's usual bluntness that can be overwhelmed.

"Oh, Merlin!" When his legendary wizard-turned-painter finally came down the ladder, the young man who called himself Andrew ruffled his hair even more messily from "thinking". He watched as the man he was waiting for took off his gloves and overalls, and walked towards the bench he was sitting on. The person in front of him is not a majestic black at the moment, but the aura of the past has not diminished at all, which makes people consciously hold their breath.

"Sir. ”

"Well, come with me. ”

Stained glass in the sunlight reflects brilliant colors, and light shines into the wide atrium, where the church has a wide circular vault and is covered with statues and decorations. Because it wasn't a Sunday, the church was almost empty, and Andrew entered through a small door on the side.

Nicol Lemay seemed to be living happily here, with many Muggles greeting him, and Andrew following him closely, silent.

The beautiful singing that had just been heard outside came from the choir in the center of the altar, and the angelic children were rehearsing under the direction of the priest. Andrew carefully sat on the bench in the last row, and in front of him sat a few people who came to pray and enjoy the singing, and the children who sang were not affected by the audience at all, and sang the sound of heaven seriously.

Andrew hadn't even gone into a church during his journey, and wizards didn't believe in it in the first place, except for visiting the buildings and decorations, and it was the first time he had heard the choir sing. The children's voices are beautiful and pure, and their smart singing voices are transmitted to every corner of the church through the special design structure of the church, and then go straight to the bottom of the heart and purify the soul.

With the quiet singing Andrew looked around at the decorations, the pillars were entwined with finely carved vines, and the walls were rich and free paintings, except for the scenery and more portraits, which made Andrew naturally think of the portraits on the Hogwarts staircase and corridors, but those were moving portraits. As it happened, the right side door opened and a priest passed by, and he suddenly saw a figure on the wall inside and winked at him.

As the choir continued to sing, Nicol entered the church and took his seat in the last row, with Andrew sitting on the other side of the chair from him, not impatient. Nicol looked like those Muggles, praying earnestly and whispering the scriptures.

The Mass lasted more than an hour before the crowd was satisfied. After all the Muggles had left, and even the priest had left with a smile, Nicol slowly got up and walked towards the statue in the middle of the church.

"Clever magic, those Muggles didn't notice you at all, even I, almost realized that you used magic, is this an ancient magic?" Andrew and Nicol sat in the last row, but all the Muggles turned a blind eye to the two, and Andrew didn't find any invisible spells, indicating that Nicol used extremely clever magic and hid the traces of the two.

"It's not a big deal, it's just a little trick. What makes me curious is, how did you find me. You look strange, and I don't feel the slightest hint of familiar magic. Nicol said lightly.

"Oh, of course, as an uninvited guest, I should introduce myself first. I'm Andrew Lee, my father is Earl Lee, and I currently work for the Ministry of Magic as an intern Auror. Andrew set his eyes on the cross, "It is a powerful person who has told me where you are, and with my ability, I can't tell unless I'm so close." ”

Hearing that Andrew was assigned by a so-called "power", Nicol's pupils shrank slightly. With Nicol's current ability, he was only one step away from crossing the final barrier, breaking away from the realm of ordinary wizards and reaching demigodship. It's a pity that Nicol has been walking this last step for hundreds of years.

It was not for any other reason that Nicol took the last step, it was because of the immortal body. Relying on the Philosopher's Stone, Nicol has maintained his immortal life, but at the same time, it also restricts Nicol's possibility of further progress.

With the meteoric decline of the British form of wizarding, Lemay has realized that he has become the best test subject in the eyes of these huge forces, and they all want to capture Nicol and then reveal his secrets--- immortality is the dream of almost all wizards.

Originally, with Nicol's strength, he was not afraid of any wizard, but what happened later was far beyond Nicol's imagination, and he had to immediately abandon everything, go incognito, transform himself, and hide in this town.

He lived quietly for several years, and neither Voldemort, who had ever visited him, nor his old friend Albus Dumbledore, had ever found him. Nicol breathed a sigh of relief, he didn't expect such a young wizard to suddenly appear today.

Realizing that the worst he had envisioned had happened, Nicol sighed again.

"You mean a demigod is interested in me?" asked Nicol.

Andrew nodded, "Why do you think it's a demigod and not the Ministry of Magic?"

"If the Ministry of Magic had the ability to do this, I don't think the so-called dark wizards would be so rampant. Well, since you've found me, and I'm sure that even if I run away now, I'll be found again, so explain your intentions. ”

"It seems that you are indeed a very wise wizard, and I am here to ......."