Year: 4

Round seven

Ilvermorny School

Theme: Look at characters showing their own variety of magical skill.

Buzzwords:

Great Witches and Wizards

Alchemy

Prompts:

Main: [Character] Nicolas Flamel,

Optional: [Word] Impact, [Quote] "the companions of our childhood always possess a certain power over our minds which hardly any later friend can obtain." — Mary Shelley

"Wait for me, Per!" The younger boy ran after his more nimble friend, panting heavily as he tried to keep pace. The latter, however, kept weaving through the alleys and streets, often disappearing for a few seconds as he blended into the crowds. Nick felt as though his knees would give out and he would fall to the ground when he finally caught up to his friend.

"Finally! What took you so long? Come on! I have to show you this glorious place!" Peregrine said, gesturing towards the shop in front of them. He was beaming with joy as he grabbed Nick's hand and dragged him towards it.

Nick wondered, for the umpteenth time, why he followed Per around in these random dashes across the city, whenever he said he had something new to show. This place looked like an average eatery, a rather small one at that. Then again, Per's judgement with these things had never failed him before.

He had just begun to follow his friend across the narrow road, when, within a matter of seconds, he saw a sequence of events. A carriage was racing down the road, with its horses clearly enraged and out of control. Peregrine was in their way. Everything happened too fast, and before he could even cry out to warn his friend of the danger, or take out his own wand, Muggles be damned, it was all over. Death on impact, they said. He didn't quite know what followed; he mostly remembered it comprising blood, and tears, and pain. He remembered screaming at the carriage driver, and the man inside, and the nauseating sight of Per's…dead body, as it would be called now. The next few hours bled into days, all of it a hazy blur.

When the time for mourning was over, or so they told him, and everyone that knew him started going back to their lives as if nothing had happened, that was when everything truly hit him, all at once.

He had lost a friend. More importantly, he had lost him forever. There were no tearful goodbyes or rage-filled fights that broke this friendship, but a man who did not know how to tame an animal. That angry horse had been more than just another stallion. It had been Death. The end of everything for one Peregrine Lighttower, and the beginning of all pain for one Nicholas Flamel.

No wonder humans, and indeed, all creatures are so inherently terrified of death, he realised. No one wanted to be on the final page of their book.

He would not be like that man, he decided. The one that couldn't check a mere horse. He'd do more, much more. He'd tame Death.

"What are you working on?" Perenelle asked, looking over his shoulder. She had been spending more time around his laboratory of late, and he was starting to wonder if she had caught wind of what he was working on. If so, then this would be harder than he had anticipated.

He didn't want to lie to her. Over the years, he had become closer to his late friend's sister, the two of them initially bonding over their mutual loss, but eventually realising they had more than just that in common, such as their mutual love for learning and potions.

So, he supposed, it was only natural that she would question why he was in his brewing chamber at such an odd hour, working on something that was clearly not for furthering his Mastery.

He wondered if he should tell her. Telling her would mean making either an enemy or having a friend who he could brew with, taking the burden off of his chest alone. Knowing her, he decided the latter was more likely.

"It's an elixir I've been working on for a while," he told her. "It… it's meant to create the philosopher's stone when the right kind of stone is dipped in it."

Perenelle stared at him in disbelief. "Nick, the philosopher's stone? Surely you know that is just rumors and foolishness! No one can be immortal!"

Nick shook his head. "I thought so too. Until I realised how powerful these ingredients are, and what they do to each other. I expected the aconite and mooncalf skin to be explosive together for example-"

She cut him off. "That is because they are!"

"Usually, yes. But under the influence of iron, they don't. The iron does allow the skin to shrivel up, so…"

Perenelle stared at the small bowl of the aforementioned ingredients that he was holding. They were very definitely not exploding. "This is incredible, Nick. You've used Muggle and magical ingredients together! I...this is brilliant!"

Nick smiled as he saw the joy in her eyes, remembering how much she too loved the wonders of potions. He felt a comfortable warm feeling rise in his chest.

"There's a Muggle branch of science. They consider it the closest to magic. It is called alchemy. I wondered if, combined with Potions, it could lead to something." He paused, flushing. He felt flustered, and unsure as to why his face was going redder by the minute. "Perhaps you would like to join me in studying this?" he asked, the words coming out in a rush.

She nodded and smiled enthusiastically. "Of course! But should we not talk to Master Weatherford about it? He might have ideas that help us."

Nick shook his head at the mention of their Master's name. Much as he respected the latter's knowledge of Potions, he was rather prejudiced about everything Muggle. "I am not so sure. He may not know as much about alchemy. And he will certainly not approve of us dabbling in it."

"Very well then," she conceded, understanding.

He held out a book to her, the one that had gotten him interested in alchemy in the first place. She took it, planting a swift kiss on his cheek as she did so, before settling down in a chair nearby to read it. He turned back to his potion, trying to hide his furious blush.

"It works!"

Perenelle looked at him, beaming. They had both spent all their energies working on it in secret for the past few months, instead of applying for posts as Potions Master and Mistress, as was the norm after a Mastery.

"It does," he said, looking at the little niffler in their cage, which had lived far longer than the usual niffler would. He walked towards her, and embracing her warmly, bent down to kiss her.

Somewhere along the late nights of brewing and the long conversations, they had fallen head over heels for each other.

"I can't believe we've achieved something so beautiful," she said.

He looked at her deep blue eyes and a small tear rolled down his face. Those eyes...they reminded him of someone else, sometimes. Of someone who should have been here to celebrate with them. "If only we had done it sooner…"

She held a hand up to his lips to silence him. "How could we have changed anything back then? We were children. He would never blame you, so perhaps you shouldn't, either." She took a deep breath and smiled sadly. "I'm sure he's proud of us, Nick. I'm sure he knows."

"I could never thank him enough," Nick said, looking away. "I could never tell him about the impact he had in my life. He took a quiet, scared boy, and turned him into a lover of adventure and all things new." He paused. "But, I don't think I have thanked you enough, either. You have done so much for me and I have been so preoccupied…"

He stepped away from her, leaving her to frown in confusion. "Nick?" she asked, furrowing her brow.

He knelt down, pulling out a small, shining ring and holding it up to her. "Perhaps this is a strange and foolish way to say it, but I am determined to. Thank you, Perenelle Lighttower, for being the light in my life. Now that we have forever, would you do me the honor of spending it with me?"

She nodded, tears streaming down her face, as he put the ring on her finger. She recognised it as one of the alloys they had built themselves, one that wouldn't corrode over time.

She embraced him and Nick pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her tighter. "Thank you, Per," he whispered. He hoped that both the people he meant it for, heard it.

The glowing stone lay on the wooden table, a quiet witness to the events of the wondrous day. If one looked carefully enough at the smooth crystal, one could see the faint shape of a young man with deep blue eyes and ruffled hair, looking on with a smile on his face.