For the Light it up like it's the 4th of July Event on TGS (year: 1776).
Beauxbatons, Barbegazi
Word Count: 434
I have no idea what this is or where it came from.
"What do you mean you signed your name to some document?" Perenelle asks, frowning. "What was it for?"
Nicolas shrugs. "I didn't read the fine print. Or any print, if I'm honest. Bit of a spur of the moment thing, if I'm honest."
Perenelle raises her brows. It's bad enough that they've been stuck in the colonies amidst the American Revolution ("How was I supposed to know there was a war going on, Perry?"), but now her husband has gone and signed his name to something he knows nothing about. She only hopes it's not something important. If they're lucky, it's just another silly petition that will never make it to England.
She allows him to lead her through the streets of Philadelphia. It's a quiet day, one of the few that hasn't been interrupted by chaos. "When do you think we can return to France, my love?" she asks. "I do miss the certainties that came with being home."
Nicolas doesn't answer. For all his wisdom, he is just as unsure as she is. During the war, magical travel has been closely monitored, and they can hardly just jump on the first available ship. What started out as a simple exploration has lead to their becoming trapped, forced to blend in with the non-magical colonists. The only mercy is that they have the Philosopher's Stone to keep them going. Perenelle would hate to waste away so far from home.
A bell in the town square rings. She frowns. It isn't a church bell, and, to her knowledge, there are no town outings scheduled for the day. Nicolas looks at her before shrugging. "Probably important," he says, guiding her to the source of the noise.
When they reach the square, a crowd has formed. Someone stands at the front, but Perenelle can hardly see him over the heads of those in front of them. A man, James or John- she only remembers his surname, Hancock- grins as they approach, patting Nicolas on the shoulder. "All coming together," Hancock says proudly. "Everything we have worked for. Wait until the king hears the news!"
Perenelle turns to her husband, lips pursed. "The king?"
"Nicolas signed right after me," Hancock continues. "Your husband, Mrs. Flamel, is quite the revolutionary!"
Perenelle tries not to laugh at that. Her husband is anything but. A genius, an alchemist, a skilled wizard. But revolutionary?
"We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created equal," the speaker at the front announces.
Perenelle buries her face in her husband's shoulder, smiling. "Darling, I think you've signed something big," she laughs.