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HERE WE GO AGAIN
🕑 Added 2024-04-08 18:24:05 +0000 UTCChapter 26- Questions
It had been a long time since he was here and he didn’t think much had changed. When he was younger, he was a regular to the house and city and worked with Nicholas regarding the uses of Dragon Blood.
Nicholas and Perenell had kept in touch with him, a letter once in a while asking about him and he would write to the man when he needed answers to certain questions. Nicholas Flamel was around six hundred years old. If there was any person who could provide information regarding this issue that Alastor brought to him, it was Nicholas or Perenell.
The couple lived in an isolated manor towards the south of France away from the magical population. The name, Flamel garnered a lot of attention among the magical population and hence, Nicholas and his wife decided that staying away from the focus of the population was preferable and decided to come this far.
Barring a countable amount of people, none knew where the Flamels lived or what their place looked like. It was for good measure because of the Philosopher's Stone.
The legendary stone was the brainchild of Nicholas Flamel and to this day, there has not been a more powerful creation of a magical artefact like the Stone.
The elixir of life was the first aspect of the stone. An elixir that has the power to grant immortality. Time flies and so does a person’s age and inevitably, one day, he will perish. The elixir as long as it is in consumption, prevents the user from aging and thereby, grants immortality.
There was the fact that the stone had the power to convert any metal into gold which made the stone more attractive for the wrong reasons.
“So you show up after twenty-five years? Finally found time to come here, Albus Dumbledore?”
Albus smiled at the voice and he came face-to-face with Perenelle Flamel, the wife of Nicholas Flamel. The woman was tending to her plants in her garden and judging by the sweat on her face and the muddy clothes, she had been here for some time.
“Your love for gardening has remained the same since I was here the last time.”
Perenelle huffed, a small smile adorning her face. “I have been enjoying gardening for almost six centuries, Albus.”
The woman leaned forward and kissed him on his cheek. “How are you, Albus?” She pulled off her soiled gloves as she walked with the man towards the front door of the house.
“Good. Busy, but good.” The woman hummed. “Of course, you will be busy.” She chuckled.
“You expected all the time in the world when you decided to go and become the Headmaster of a prestigious magical institute?”
Dumbledore chuckled shaking his head. “I am not complaining. But you know that it was the teaching part of the job that I looked for and not the administration. Armando would be laughing in his grave seeing me today. He knew that I was not open to the desk part of the job and yet, that is what I have been doing for the better part of my teaching career.”
“I don’t mind it, but I have strayed away from teaching. Teaching a class is something I would thrive in when compared to the administrative aspect of the job.”
Perenelle nodded. “There comes a stage in life when we are supposed to do things that we don’t find joy in, Albus. That is how life works. We will reach a stage in life that would leave us with no choice. We steel ourselves and we must get on with it.”
“But enough of my ramblings. Come. Nicholas would be happy to see you.” She led the man inside her house in search of her husband.
“Nicholas?” The woman called out as Albus settled down in the sitting room. “We have a guest.”
“Who is it?” A man no older than sixty appeared at the door and when his eyes fell on the guest, they lit up. “Albus?”
“How are you, Nicholas?” Dumbledore stood up and shook hands with his mentor.
“Decided to come after so long, Albus?” Nicholas questioned as he gestured for the man to sit.
“You know how it is. Too much work.” Dumbledore shrugged.
“How are you, Albus?” Nicholas questioned leaning back in his seat. “Twenty-five years since you last visited us and you don’t seem to have changed.”
“I have.” Dumbledore chuckled. “Growing older and older. But you two have not changed have you?” He returned. “I remember seeing the two of you for the first time and I have not seen any change in the two of you.”
“You can thank the Stone for that,” Perenelle replied as she stood up. “Come, Albus. We have a lot of catching up to do. Let me make some tea.”
The three got up and walked to the kitchen where Albus and Nicholas took a seat at the dining table while Perenelle approached the cooking area. Albus had never seen the woman use magic to cook. She does it with her hands, from the chopping to the stirring and cleaning after.
Perenelle had stopped using magic to cook five centuries ago. When questioned why she doesn’t use magic to cook, her reply had been simple.
‘I have seen a lot of misfortune, a lot of happiness, a lot of achievements along with a variety of people in the world. Nothing is constant. Everything is changing, Albus. Everything would change and everything would keep changing. It is the way of time. After living for more than an average witch or wizard, we began to find joy in the little things in life. I cook. I tend to my gardens. We make use of as little magic as possible and complete most of our tasks by hand. It gives us a feeling of normalcy.’
Albus could not believe what he heard back then, but now when he thought about it after almost a century behind him, he understood where they were coming from.
“Thank you,” Dumbledore whispered as he placed the cup of tea on the table. He decided to get into the matter at hand.
“I had something to ask of you, Nicholas.” The man nodded, asking him to continue. Albus pulled out a set of parchments that Alastor had provided him with and asked the man to read it.
“I tried every source in my reach, but I came up with nothing. It might be a joke, but it is highly unlikely and very likely dangerous considering his activities.” He nodded to the file.
“Fenrir Greyback?”Perenelle straightened at his mention. “Whoever did kill him must be felicitated, Albus.”
“I sympathize with the werewolves and Nicholas here has spent years and years trying to find a permanent solution to lycanthropy. We never agreed with how they have been treated by the general public or the upper class of the wizarding world, but none of those sentiments are extended to Fenrir Greyback.”
“That man is better dead than living, Albus and whoever did this, must be appreciated.”
“That is not how the law works, Perenelle.” Dumbledore sighed. “They are supposed to face justice through the hands of the law. Who are we to decide it?”
“That nonsense will not help, Albus.” Nicholas snorted. “Sometimes things happen outside the boundaries of the law and sometimes, the law must look the other way.”
“My point remains the same.” Albus cut in. “We cannot decide the fate of every person who commits a mistake. How long will that go on, Nicholas? Once, twice, thrice… There is no shortage of criminals in our society and should we go around killing every one of them without hesitation?”
“You and me, both know that it does not work that way, Nicholas. It is not simple and rightfully so. It shouldn’t be that simple.”
Nicholas huffed in frustration. “I do understand where you are coming from. But I do not have to agree with it. You forget that I have managed to see the world for hundreds of years, Albus. I have seen effective and better methods to deal with problems than the ones we use today.” -
“Keeping that aside, this is fascinating.” He tapped the file that he held in his hands. “A man with two faces.”
Dumbledore frowned. “You don’t think it is silly.”
The man fixed Albus with a dry stare. “I am somebody who has been living for six hundred-odd years, Albus. I am the definition of improbable things. This does not look far-fetched considering the things I have seen in my life.”
“Half-life is one such scenario. A leach, for the lack of a better word.” Dumbledore nodded. He had considered the possibility of a parasite.
“But I don’t think that is what this is.” Nicholas frowned. “Is it…” He muttered, a faraway look in his eyes. “Maybe…maybe..” He nodded forgetting the presence of the other two around him.
“I might have an answer, but I need to be sure. I need a couple of days, Albus. I will get back to you with the answer. I have a theory that needs looking into and I am confident that it is the answer you are looking for. Do give me a few days to confirm, will you?”
9+
“Of course. Please take your time.” Dumbledore assured the man. “Any detail will help, Nicholas. Any help would be much appreciated.”
“And you will get it.” Perenelle cut in, nodding firmly. “But I want that to be put to the side for the rest of the evening.” She replied.
“It has been twenty-five years, Albus. I don’t like our conversation to remain damp any longer. Forget about it.”
Albus could not help but smile. It was refreshing to see that some things never change.
BREAK—-
“It was a good evening today.” Perenelle sighed as the two were left to themselves in their home. Loneliness had become a friend to the two. They have been alone for centuries and have been used to it by now.
It was not that they could not find companionship, but it was that they didn’t want to. Everybody that they grew up around, played with, ate with, celebrated with and lived with were dead. It was the way of life. They had defied the laws of nature and had been paying the price for it.
First went their parents, followed by their relatives and the most painful of them all, their two daughters. No parent should ever bury their children. There is no bigger pain than burying your flesh and blood.
Nicholas and Perenelle messed up in their drive to create the Philosopher’s Stone and they realised it after a few years they buried their youngest daughter and found the stone. They had consumed the elixir of life after her death and they had never estimated that one dose of it was enough to sustain their life to date and they had no idea when it would end.
They decided to let the dose finish its course and die when their time ran out. The isolation was to make sure that they didn’t get attached to anybody. They could not take it if somebody close to them died while they continued to live. This way, they would be saved from the heartbreak of losing someone they loved.
But despite everything, Albus had wormed his way into their hearts. A keen young man, who had the world at his feet. A very intelligent young man who had approached them to work on the theory of dragon’s blood and its uses.
Nicholas had taken an immediate liking to the young man and it didn’t take long for Perenelle to follow in her husband’s path. They formed a close bond with the young man who was the only person to be allowed into their premise in a long time.
Albus possessed that charm. People feel comfortable around him. They would like to open up and be at ease when he is speaking with you. He was a friend everybody needed.
“This doesn’t bode well.” Nicholas huffed chucking the file Albus had left behind on the table. “There is no proper way to put it, but nothing good can be expected of this venture that this person has pulled, my dear.”
“Whatever magic is at play here, is not something simple that could be found in a book. Very old and very dangerous magic that has been kept hidden for centuries. Only a handful might be able to get their hands on such magic and not easily, I might add.”
“Do you know what it is?” Perenelle questioned. “I do, but I need to check it up before I come to any conclusions.”
Perenelle frowned as she let her husband ponder. Given enough time, her husband can find an answer to any possible question. There was not a challenge that proved to be difficult for the man.
But she had known her husband for close to six centuries and had learnt to read him like an open book. He was worried. It took a lot to cause such an emotion in the man who had witnessed a lot in his life, but this conundrum that Albus brought was one such factor.
She left him alone, walking out of the room. He needed time to think and she would give him some time to think.
Perenelle felt the wards around the manor thrum gently. ‘That is strange.’ They never received letters. The owls won’t find them as the wards prevent them, but they never disclose the address to the people whom they inevitably meet.
She stepped out of the front door just in time to see an owl flying in. The bird landed on her shoulder and Perenelle retrieved the letter from the creature, brushing its wings gently.
Perenelle glanced at the letter and smiled. “Charlus Potter and Arcturus Black?”
“Interesting…” Perenelle muttered as she walked inside the house reading the letter with the owl still seated on her shoulder.
“Nicholas?” She placed the letter in front of the man who was still in the room she had left behind, lost in thought.
“Charlus Potter has written.” The man straightened, surprised by her words. “Charlus Potter?”
He frowned. “That is a surprise. What is it?” He picked up the letter and began reading at his wife’s nod. “No.” He scoffed a few seconds later. “This cannot be a coincidence.”
“Both Potter and Black are interested in the same person that Albus approached me with. They have taken an interest as well.”
“I better get an answer ready for the three of them.” He muttered as he got up and walked out of the room in haste as Perenelle followed him.
“Something about this person does not make sense. This magic and the method behind it is dangerous and obscure. I have a bad feeling about this man, Perenelle. A very bad feeling.”
TBC—----
