Elixir Of Life
Chapter One
Harry sat in Ron's bedroom, rubbing his temples with his fingertips. He relished the quiet of Ron's room compared to the rest of the house and the noisy inhabitants. All he needed was some peace to think-
Tap.
Tap.
He scowled, strode over to the door and opened it. There was no one there. Frowning, he turned back into the room when he saw it.
A regal, important-looking owl was silhouetted in the summer sun, tapping insistently at the window, a letter in its beak. Harry swiftly crossed the room and opened the stiff window with some difficulty; the owl flew in immediately and perched on Ron's bedpost. Harry took the letter from it, and it irritably nipped his hand and flew off.
Swearing angrily at it, Harry slammed the window and sat down on the orange bedspread with the letter. He instantly recognised the insignia on the seal and his frown only deepened; why what were the Ministry contacting him about now? Ever since the war ended two months ago, the Ministry had constantly pestered him for statements, public appearances and questions.
He extracted the letter and opened it.
Dear Mr Harry James Potter,
As of this day (July 31st) you are entitled to receive a final bequest from the late Albus Percival Wilfric Brian Dumbledore. You were unable to receive the item(s) prior to this date as the item(s) were classed as ERV: Extremely Rare and Valuable. Such items can only be possessed by someone of the age of 18 or over.
Please see overleaf for your item(s).
If you wish to collect your item(s) you may do so by visiting the Departmentof Magical Inheritance on or by September 31st.
Hoping you are well,
Helena Fletcher
Department of Magical Inheritance
Heart racing, Harry quickly flipped over the page. His hands shook so violently it was hard to read.
Item(s) for collection by Harry James Potter at the request of AlbusPercival Wilfric Brian Dumbledore at age 18.
• (1) Philosopher's Stone Please retain this letter to present as identification upon your collection.
The letter slipped through Harry's fingers and fluttered to the floor. Harry didn't notice, his mind reeling.
Dumbledore had told him he had destroyed the Philosopher's Stone in his first year. Harry had took his word for it at the time and let it go without much further thought; but now it appeared it had been yet another of Dumbledore's lies he told to keep Harry safe.
Harry was barely aware of picking up the letter and leaving the room; he moved as if in a trance through the house to the tiny, cramped kitchen where Ron, George, Charlie, Ginny and their parents were gathered, chopping vegetables and chatting.
"Harry dear, I was thinking of having your birthday tea at seven- whatever's the matter?" Mrs Weasley asked, turning slightly pale at the look on Harry's face.
"Nothing bad," Harry assured her, slowly coming back to his senses at the anxious look on her face. "Just a shock, that's all…"
"What is it?" Ron asked, putting down the carrot he was chopping and frowning. Harry wordlessly placed the letter on the wooden table for all of them to read.
Aside from a slight rustle when the paper was turned over to read the other side, the kitchen was silent.
"Blimey." Ron said finally, turning to Harry with an awestruck expression on his face. "The Philosopher's Stone, Harry…!" he trailed off wistfully.
"I thought Dumbledore destroyed it?" George asked, frowning at the letter and glancing up at Harry for confirmation. Harry shrugged.
"So did I. Guess it was just another lie." he said tonelessly. He felt disappointed in and betrayed by Dumbledore all over again. He looked at Mr Weasley, who didn't look at all surprised by the letter.
Catching Harry's look, he grimaced apologetically.
"Yes, I already knew." he said. "But I wasn't allowed to tell you, Ministry guidelines and all that…"
"It's fine." Harry said quietly. The kitchen was silent for a few moments.
Mrs Weasley beamed at him.
"What a lovely present, Harry dear! It's marvelous really, they're so incredibly rare…" she too trailed off in thought, but her face distinctly lacked the wistful look her sons' had. Harry marveled at her capacity to be selflessly happy for him.
Ron gave Harry a meaningful look as his family busied themselves with cooking once more, and Harry swiftly followed him out of the kitchen into the sunny garden.
"Are you going to get it?" Ron asked the minutes they were outside. Harry nodded.
"I'll go to the Ministry tomorrow." he said quietly. He'd already decided he wanted it away from the Ministry and in his charge as soon as possible. Ron gazed out over the fields silently, seemingly contemplating a stone that would grant immortality.
He voiced this thought. Harry rubbed his temples; he wasn't sure what to make of the entire immortality issue.
"It's not really an issue, is it?" Ron said, surprised. "It's amazing…" Harry caught the envious look in his eyes, and felt a pang of guilt. Ever since he'd met Ron he'd always been slightly better off, materially speaking. He had more clothes, more money and now he had been granted immortality. If he were Ron he'd probably hate himself.
"I'll share it with you and Hermione." he said compulsively, and Ron's head whipped round to look at him.
"You serious?" he gasped, his face flushed.
Harry nodded with more enthusiasm than he'd felt all day. "Nicholas Flamel shared it with his wife Perenelle, didn't he? I'm not going to live forever by myself am I?" he pushed Ron playfully.
"But…" Ron frowned. "Won't you want to share it with your wife?" Harry knew he was thinking of the girl behind them in the Weasley kitchen. Avoiding his eyes, he gazed out over the sunset.
"Don't count your Snitches before you've caught them." he reminded Ron. "I don't even have a girlfriend."
Ron shifted uncomfortably.
"Yeah, about that…" He glanced quickly at Harry, apparently trying to summon courage to say whatever it was. "I thought… you know, after the war… you and Ginny would… sort of pick up where you left off, y'know? But…"
Harry swallowed; he didn't want to have this conversation right now. How could he tell Ron he didn't remotely fancy his sister anymore?
"I don't really feel the same about her anymore." he said bravely, still staring out at the setting sun.
"Oh."
"She's a great friend, don't me get wrong-" Harry said quickly, but Ron interrupted him.
"No, mate I get it. You don't need to explain to me." He clapped Harry on the shoulder and turned to meander back into the house.
Harry remained out in the garden, thinking for a long time after Ron left.
.-.
"You can accompany Arthur into work today to pick up your Stone." Mrs Weasley said over the sausages the next morning. Mr Weasley smiled encouragingly at him. Harry smiled back, and Ron piped up next to him.
"Can I go too?" he asked hopefully, and Harry grinned, forcibly reminded of a little child, especially when Ron hissed "Yes!" a moment later.
They left soon after, and Harry was content to listen to Ron's excited babble all the way to the Ministry, inputting the occasional 'mm.' Truth be told, he felt truly nervous about taking the Philosopher's Stone into his possession; it was both wonderful and dangerous and in all likelihood would cast the attention on him he'd been trying so desperately to escape.
"Floor three for us, Harry." Mr Weasley said cheerfully as they stepped into the lift in the Ministry. Harry nodded wordlessly, trying his best to ignore the awed and curious stares he was receiving. He had already been congratulated and thanked for his part in the war five times, no less.
The doors opened with a clang and Mr Weasley stepped out, flanked by Harry and Ron. The carpet was thick and plush here, the light soft and welcoming. After a series of left and right turns Harry doubted he would be able to remember, they arrived at a large welcome desk in a warm lobby.
They stood in front of the desk patiently, waiting for the witch to look her from her paper.
"Good morning." Mr Weasley said politely when she failed to do so.
"Take a seat." she said without looking up. Ron exhaled loudly, and she looked up sharply. Her eyes immediately fell upon Harry's scar and she gave a start.
"Mr Potter-! What a pleasure! So sorry to have kept you waiting!" she gushed, flustered. "Do you have an appointment or-"
"I'm here to pick up an item." Harry interrupted smoothly, pushing the letter across the glossy desktop. The witch's small eyes scanned over it rapidly, widening considerably when she read what the item was.
"Oh my!" she gasped. "I'll fetch Madam Fletcher right away for you, Mr Potter." she assured him, and she waved her wand and spoke into it.
"Helen, can you please come into the lobby immediately?-"
"I can't right now Susanne, I'm with a client." a voice replied irritably out of nowhere.
"But-" Susanne protested.
"This is Lucius Malfoy!" the voice hissed meaningfully and Harry immediately exchanged a dark look with at Ron at the name 'Lucius Malfoy'.Despite their conversion to the right side in the end, Harry had marked all Malfoys as cowardly, petty bullies.
"And this is Harry Potter!" Susanne whispered frantically, and within seconds an oak door to their left opened and a blonde witch hurried out, beaming.
"Mr Potter! What a lovely surprise! I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting!"
Susanne the receptionist tried to shove Harry's letter under her nose, but she batted it away impatiently.
"Yes, Susanne I think I'd know why Harry Potter has come here!" she exclaimed, offering Harry a beam that contradicted her irritated tone.
"So…. The Philosopher's Stone, Mr Potter? You're a lucky boy to get it, I'll tell you that."
"Ahem," a smooth voice interrupted.
Lucius Malfoy casually walked out of the room Helena had just left, sneering, with a cane tapping loudly by his side.
His face left Harry in no doubt he'd just heard Helena's words.
"Mr Malfoy, can you possibly excuse me for one moment to talk to Mr
Potter?" Helena asked him sweetly, turning to the tall man.
"No, I'm afraid I must be getting on." Lucius sighed as his pale eyes roved over Mr Weasley and Ron, before finally narrowing on Harry.
"Do you still want to proceed with your challenge on Madam Black's will-" Helena started, but Lucius cut her off sharply.
"Expect another appointment shortly." he nodded curtly to her as he strode out, his eyes lingering on Harry in a way that Harry did not like one bit.
"Sorry about that." Helena apologised, and beckoned for them to follow her through a door off the lobby.
She placed a hand on the wooden door and the lock melted away, the door swinging open. There was a quiet hum of spells as Harry passed through the doorway; he assumed it detected impostors or intruders.
Mr Weasley and Ron trooped behind him into a tall, narrow room with labelled metal shelves decorated with a wide variety of rare items.
"'P' for 'Potter'" Helena murmured, leading them down the aisle. Harry's head turned rapidly from side-to-side as he tried to take it all in; he glimpsed ornate, antique jewellery, shields emblazoned with coats of arms and even a yellowed human skull.
Ron stared at him, wide eyed.
They stopped after a further minute of walking, and Harry immediately spotted the glittering red stone on the shelf in front of them. The label read:
(1) Philosopher's Stone
Property of Harry James Potter
Helena picked it up delicately between her thumb and forefinger, and passed it to Harry with a smile.
Harry wordlessly took the cold stone in his hands and gazed at its beauty; the way the light reflected hundreds of pretty red sparkles, the way the stone seemed to glow.
"Wow," he and Ron whispered together.
.-.
Draco was sitting by the window, his forehead pressed up on the glass as he watched the rain trickle down it. He heard a distant door slam and he suppressed the shiver provoked daily by that noise.
It meant his father's return.
Quick footsteps made loud taps on the polished wood floor, and Draco jumped in surprise, his muscles moving stiffly after the hours he'd spent motionless. The sound meant his father was paying him a visit; this was most unusual. Lucius rarely graced Draco's wing of the house with his presence.
Draco turned back to the window, watching the drops make their path down the old window.
He had no desire to see or speak to his father; not now, not ever.
However it seemed to be inevitable that he would, as seconds later the door opened and Lucius strode in the room, not bothering to knock.
"Draco." he said loudly. Draco ignored him, closing his eyes.
"Turn around." Lucius said in a cold, commanding tone, and Draco reluctantly opened his eyes and did so.
Lucius surveyed him coolly.
"Your mother tells me you shut yourself in here all day, yet again." he said, narrowing his eyes as he looked at the books around them.
Draco shrugged indifferently.
"What is this achieving?" Lucius hissed angrily. "I have not worked hard for this family so that my only heir can be a worthless disappointment!"
Draco was used to the criticism, being told he wasn't good enough, but the words still stung his proud ego. Nevertheless, he kept his emotionless mask firmly in place.
"But now you have the opportunity to change that." his father said, his eyes gleaming in a familiar, scheming way.
"I shall entrust you with the same task I set you seven years ago. You failed then; but you were young, and I graciously forgave you.
But now you're older, and you've made a lot of mistakes you must make up for Draco. This is your chance. You will not fail." he hissed with a malicious sneer, leaning in towards Draco.
Draco stared at him defiantly, determined not to show the terror that was flooding him.
He felt the familiar sick feeling of being entrusted with an important duty for a side he wasn't on; carrying out a task he did not wish to, for fear of his own life - it was like his sixth year all over again.
His father was watching him expectantly, waiting for Draco to crack. But Draco had always been a proud boy; he lifted his chin defiantly.
"What is it?" he asked, a faint sneer on his face.
"You will befriend Harry Potter."
The bottom dropped out of his stomach.
"I-what? Potter!?" he gasped, unable to control his emotions or prevent his composure from slipping.
Lucius sneered at him, drinking in Draco's shock and anger; relishing the control he had over Draco.
"You heard. He has something I dearly want - no, I need. You will go to your final year of Hogwarts with every intention of befriending him, and you will succeed this time."
"Or what?" Draco asked, only just managing not to shout.
Lucius smiled menacingly at him.
"Or prices will be paid." And as he twirled his wand between his fingers, Draco was left in no doubt as to what that price would be.
"I'll do it, Father." he agreed quietly.