Chapter 240: Nicolas Flamel
Kyle landed with a slight thud, holding onto the fragment of the Philosopher's Stone, which spun briefly in midair before he deftly caught it. He slipped the fragment into his pocket, then looked around, taking in his surroundings.
Before setting off, Kyle had anticipated all sorts of possible destinations. He had expected perhaps a grand manor, or even a secluded wizard village—somewhere remote and secretive, like Newt's home nestled deep in the mountains, hidden from prying eyes. But he hadn't imagined that he would end up on a bustling muggle street.
Kyle raised his eyebrows as he took in the sight of a large restaurant sign overhead. People strolled past, busy and preoccupied, none seeming to notice the young wizard who had suddenly appeared out of thin air. They moved around him with the ease of those who didn't see anything out of the ordinary.
In the background, car horns blared intermittently, and Kyle squinted at the cityscape beyond. To his left, he caught a glimpse of a tall spire piercing the sky.
"Paris?" Kyle muttered to himself, piecing together his whereabouts. Since he'd known from the start that he'd be going to France, he quickly regained his composure after the initial surprise. A muggle street is as good a landing place as any, he thought. After all, it was a wizard with over six centuries of history—his outlook was bound to differ from that of most people. He could have arranged to meet atop the Eiffel Tower, or even in the depths of a zoo; it wouldn't have been entirely unexpected.
For now, though, Kyle's priority was to locate the person he was here to meet.
Kyle considered his options. Since either Nicolas Flamel or Dumbledore had likely prepared the Portkey, he felt confident he was in the right place. And given Flamel's nature, it was doubtful he'd be found in any of the shops lining this busy street.
Could it be the Fidelius Charm?
Reaching into his pocket, Kyle pulled out the envelope Dumbledore had given him before his departure. Opening it, he found a blank piece of paper. However, as soon as he unfolded it, he heard a soft, distinct whisper—a single number: