Written for Round 7 of the QLFC. Over halfway through the initial rounds! Let's go Tornadoes, Let's go! *multiple explosions*
(Prompts detailed at the bottom.)
Nicolas Flamel scooped up a small portion of his newest creation and poured it into a nearby crystal bowl. The potion steamed with a hiss, and then fell silent.
He leaned back and watched it for a moment. The potion may have a delayed reaction to new substances, and, however neutral crystal was, it was still an unfamiliar substance to the potion.
He didn't dare test the liquid on himself; last time he'd been lectured by Perenelle on the dangers of self-testing potentially volatile potions.
So who – or what – should he test it on?
A spider was on his experimentation table. Nicolas followed its progress, watching as it got closer and closer to the crystal bowl.
Taking a small crystal spoon, he scooped up some of the potion in the bowl and allowed a drop of the liquid to fall on the spider.
The spider shuddered, but looked completely fine as it crossed the table.
Disappointed, Nicolas sat back. Perhaps he had been too hopeful; after all, he had only tried to experiment with the Philosopher's Stone a few times, with little to no success.
He squinted at the spider. It was moving faster now, and seemed to shrink the slightest bit.
He grabbed a glass and trapped the spider, just before it jumped off the table.
"Has it done something?" a voice asked. He turned to see Perenelle at the bottom of the steps to the basement.
"I think so." He let the glass remain on the table, and watched the spider scuttle around inside.
Perenelle approached the table. He felt the need to explain.
"The potion is either causing the spider to regress, mentally and physically, or it's simply causing the spider to simply de-age."
She said nothing, instead opting to pick up the parchment on the other end of the table.
"Nothing about the ingredients indicate if the regression is physical, mental, or both. And I expect you stirred evenly in both directions to maintain balance?"
He nodded. When experimenting with one variable, he had to keep everything else as neutral as possible.
Perenelle looked up from the parchment. "Place a preservation charm; we may need to find some more test subjects."
It was that blasted dog again.
Perenelle could never stand animals in general. She could tolerate them, but beyond that she refused to accommodate them.
This stray dog that continually showed up at their doorstep, begging for food, was simply another thorn in her side.
"Shoo," she told it, kicking out with her foot slightly. The dog flinched back but didn't move.
"I haven't got time to deal with you." She groaned in frustration. Would this dog never take a hint?
A thought struck her.
"Wait here," she told the dog, before hurrying inside.
There was a vial of the strange potion her husband had made, sitting on the counter. Grabbing a bowl, she hastily threw a couple of ham slices in and emptied the vial over the meat.
Would the dog eat it? She doubted it had much choice.
"Eat up," she told it, placing the bowl down in front of him. The dog immediately dug in, and she could see why; its ribcage was clearly visible from where she was standing.
It was only a minute or two later when she saw signs of change. The dog was becoming smaller in size, and its coat, originally streaked with gray, changed color until it was a sandy brown.
Before, it was much bonier; now she could see hints of substance – most likely muscle from its younger days – in the dog's body.
The dog scraped up the last of its meal and looked up at her, hungry for more.
"Nothing left for you here," she told it. The dog still didn't move.
She was hit with curiosity. Would another dose of the potion make him younger?
She grabbed the bowl and filled it with more ham slices, and then went down the basement to pour some of the potion into the bowl.
She came back once more, and laid the bowl down. Again, the dog ate it all.
This time, despite careful observation, nothing occurred.
"Go," she told the dog, lifting a hand to shoo it away. It finally stood and left. She had a feeling it would come back for more soon.
"According to your notes, the potion restores the user to the prime of their life." Nicolas gazed at the parchment. "How many times have you tested this?"
"Multiple times," Perenelle reported. "That dog just keeps coming back, day after day."
"I suspect it is the work of the Korean ginseng," he frowned at another parchment, the one that listed the ingredients of the potion.
"Korean ginseng, as in known as the 'elixir of life' and for improving health?" she asked.
"It's the main ingredient, aside from the Philosopher's Stone itself. It may have reacted with the Philosopher's Stone to trigger some sort of youthfulness solution."
"We still don't know if the potion affects the mind," Perenelle pointed out.
Nicolas took a deep breath. "There's only one way to test that."
"Is this…" Perenelle touched her cheek and stared at her reflection in the mirror. The slight wrinkles were gone. She looked to be in her late twenties.
"Permanent?" Nicolas stared at the two empty vials they'd just drained. "We might have to wait and see."
"Now what?" she turned away from the mirror. Her hair, which used to contain small streaks of gray, was now the deep blond of her childhood. "Should we let people know about this – this 'elixir of life'?"
"That may be dangerous," he said. "In that case, we may have to protect it from malicious intent."
"We could save lives, Nicolas," Perenelle protested.
"At what cost? With good comes bad, and it's the same with people. There are people selfish enough to want this elixir for their own purposes."
She was silent for a long moment.
"Are we selfish, then? Are we selfish to want to keep this for ourselves?"
She left the room without waiting for a reply.
Dumbledore had returned the Philosopher's Stone to them.
Nicolas turned the stone in his palm. The thing looked innocent enough, but its capabilities could tear the Wizarding world apart.
Harry Potter. A fascinating character. He had wanted the stone, yet not for his own purposes. An eleven year old could do what he and Perenelle had tried so hard to do.
Understandably, it was hard to part with an item such as the Philosopher's Stone. Perenelle adored the glowing youth it gave her. He himself enjoyed looking to be in his thirties, despite being over six hundred years old.
It was hard to admit, but the Stone had taught him and Perenelle to be selfish. They refused to share the Elixir of Life they regularly created. It was a product of their property, therefore they had a right to keep it to themselves.
And now, Voldemort wanted the Stone. Nicolas could see the parallels between him and Voldemort, and he hated the thought. It was this same hatred that had brought him here.
He placed the Stone on the table. He and Perenelle had enough Elixir of Life preserved to last for some time. He had completed the final batch that day, and now he intended to follow through with the destruction of the Stone.
Perenelle couldn't bring herself to be here, to see what they had relied on for so long being destroyed. He had almost backed out of this himself.
But it had to be done.
He picked up the hammer Perenelle had bought that day. It was a common hammer, found in most stores easily.
With a swift motion, he raised the hammer and brought it down against the Stone. It shattered immediately.
He did not know a sure way to dispose of the Stone. So he would do the next best thing. Shattering and sprinkling it into a Dissolving Solution would perhaps rid the world of the Stone.
Gathering the shattered pieces with a simple levitation spell, he dunked them into the simmering cauldron with a loud PLUNK.
He looked inside the cauldron. The pieces of the stone had dissolved. Now all he had to do was dispose of the potion with an evaporation spell of his own creation.
If he and Perenelle could not possess the Stone, they would make sure that no one else could.
That was for certain.
Team: Tutshill Tornadoes
Position: Beater 1
Round Prompt: Elixir of Life
Word Count: 1,412 words (excluding Author's Notes)
Prompts Used:
Prompt 7: (narrative device) flash forward
Prompt 9: (closing sentence) That was for certain.
Prompt 13: (creature) spider
