There was a strange man in his room. Not strange like Albus Dumbledore, and his taste for unusual robes, but strange in that he had no idea who this man was, or how he seemed to suddenly just exist where previously stood nothing.

However, this man did seem to know exactly who Harry was. Indeed, he looked at him with a sort of mock-disappointment, that kind that anyone who regularly saw the Weasley Twins going about the castle could identify.

"Greetings, Mister Potter. You look as if you don't recognize me- Don't they print my Chocolate Frog card anymore?"

The first thing he did upon meeting this ancient and powerful wizard was stammering out that he expected his beard to be longer, which horribly embarrassed him, and greatly amused Mr Flamel.

"It's just, you know, Headmaster Dumbledore has a really long beard, and he's a powerful wizard, and-" he continued to stammer, turning redder by the minute.

"It's perfectly alright, Mr Potter. I will admit, my beard is not nearly as long as his, though I do believe it to be almost as fashionable," Nicolas offered, seemingly unperturbed at his apparent lack of a Beard Of Power. It was actually closer to the kind of beard you might expect on a wise old Chinese man, even though Flamel was from France, and didn't seem to consciously be following along muggle expectations.

Harry thought his beard looked a little like a hand-held duster, though he would never, ever admit it.

However, once his shock had worn off, both at the sudden appearance of an apparently ancient and knowledgeable wizard, and at his utter lack of stereotypical and apparently true (if Dumbledore was anything to go by) long beard, he was suddenly filled with questions.

"How did you get in here? How do you know who I am? Am I going to get in trouble for doing magic over the summer? Did-" Harry started, evidently full of curiosity already.

"Please, calm down, Mister Potter, and I will gladly answer your questions. To answer your questions: I Apparated, you are the most famous child alive in our world, and no, since it was my magic and not yours that brought me here. And yes, I can see you want to know more then that, but please allow me to explain why I'm here." said Flamel, sitting down on a comfortable looking chair that Harry could swear had not been there before he sat down.

"You see, I am here because I have heard that you were the one who saved my false stone."

Harry, and the many questions he had to offer, such as if wizards could appear in his home, why didn't they just do that instead of taking trains, and how a piece of parchment could summon people, in favor of suddenly losing his concentration from the mysterious wizard's next words.

"Wait- You mean- What- False?" he sputtered in an entirely undignified way, which Mr Flamel politely did not comment on.

"Mister potter, did you think I would really keep a rare, potent magical artifact that many wizards, dark and light, have sought over the centuries in a school for children?" asked Flamel.

Harry had to admit, when he put it like that, it did make sense. "But then, why did-"

"Yes, well," interrupted the old wizard, looking disappointed for real now, "I certainly did not expect Dumbledore's plan to actually bring Voldemort to your school. I had assumed his plan would only be a distraction for a wizard that may actually be dead, though it's been proven that he isn't quite there yet, and I'm rather put out with him for allowing such a monster into his school and around children." said Flamel, eyebrows furrowing.

"Er, I'm sorry that I let Quirrel get the stone-" started Harry, but Flamel just looked up, contemplation forgotten.

"Of course not, don't be silly. I don't blame you in the slightest- Though, I am remarkably impressed by your part in this disaster. You see, Albus told me of the 'protections'," he stated with such obvious verbal quotes that Harry almost giggled out loud before he could help himself, "he placed around the false stone. Really, the Mirror of Erised? People have wasted away in front of that mirror, and he placed it where a student could get to it! Surely, he was not hoping Voldemort himself would be entranced by such a thing?" said Flamel, as he started to drift back off into his own thoughts. Harry coughed, unsure of how to get his attention again without being rude, but the cough in and of itself seemed to do so.

"Anyway, yes, the Mirror. Albus explained to you what it did, yes?" asked Flamel.

"Yes sir. I mean, he told me it showed only the deepest desire of our hearts... Is that right?" asked Harry, somewhat timid. It wasn't like a classroom, talking to a teacher- He was alone, talking to someone who probably knew far more things then he ever could. Nicolas didn't seem to mind, though.

"Yes, that is right, and that is precisely that makes the mirror so dangerous. And yet..." He looked up from his musing and turned slightly to look Harry in the eyes, making him a little nervous. "...You managed to obtain the stone." he muttered quietly, to himself.

"Sorry, sir, if I wasn't supposed to-" started Harry, but Nicolas cut him off, which seemed to be something he did often.

"Sorry? My boy, you should be the opposite of sorry. You truly wanted the stone in that moment, more then anything else, but you did not want to use it in any way- Either for riches or fame or life. What, then, did you want out of my stone?" the old wizard asked gently. Suddenly, Harry felt it was safe to answer truly, as if Flamel had suddenly picked up Dumbledore's aura of a calm, elderly figure. Was that another power of great wizards?

"I... I wanted to protect it, keep it safe from Voldemort, and Quirrel. I couldn't let them have it- I know they couldn't have done anything good with it," offered Harry, before looking away. He was surprised, however, when a gentle hand came up to his chin and raised his eyes back up to the ancient alchemist's.

"I had thought so. Someone like you does not come along very often, not very often at all. And I don't mean the fact you vanquished a dark lord at one. No, I think you might be very special, indeed..." Flamel thought out loud to himself, before he focused back on Harry. "Tell me, you did know what the Stone does, right?" he questioned.

"It creates the Elixir of Life, and can turn any metal into gold, sir," said Harry.

"Any pure metal," corrected Flamel, "Into pure gold, but essentially correct. Tell me, Mister Potter, would you like to come with me for the summer?"