Chapter 2: Living on Borrowed Time

Disclaimer: Nicholas, Perenelle and Dumbledore aren't mine. That's why this is on

"Millions long for immortality who do not know what
to do with themselves on a rainy Sunday afternoon."
... Susan Ertz

1990
Nicholas was out at an opera, unsurprisingly. He said he had to meet his friend Dumbledore. Why they chose to meet at an opera house, I would never know.

Everyone's heard of Dumbledore, so I won't bother describing him, much as I enjoy describing things. All I need to tell you is that they were 'partners on alchemy'. 'Partners in crime' is probably closer, though.

So, Nicholas was out, and I was wondering what to do. I considered cooking, but I wasn't really hungry. Then I wondered about reading, but I knew all my books off by heart (as I would, having read them for 600 years). I went out for a walk. I drew. I played chess with myself. I tried to work out how a telephone worked (that experiment failed miserably). I read and re-read the newspapers. I wondered how a television worked. I cleaned the house. I listened to the WWN. I prepared that night's dinner. I was on the verge of making more Elixir of Life, even though we had plenty, when the doorbell rang politely, if a doorbell can ring politely.

You know, when we first made the Philosopher's Stone, I used to wonder how to create the Elixir of Life. Thanks to Nicholas' patient trial and error, resulting in frequent explosions, melted cauldrons and inquisitive neighbours, we discovered that we needed to soak the Stone in a simple solution - no, I'm not saying what it is – overnight. We committed the ingredients and method to memory, and that was that. My 600 year-old joke was that we were squeezing blood out of stone.
...

Anyway, the doorbell rang, so, having nothing better to do, I answered it, and found myself face to face with-

Albus Dumbledore.

"Albus!" I exclaimed. "Come in, come in! Where's Nicholas, incidentally?"

"Hello, Perenelle." Yes, we were on first name terms. "Your husband is-"

A loud pop, and Nicholas finished the sentence. "Right behind you, Penny."

"Perenelle," I growled, and turned round. 600 years hadn't cured him of that infuriating habit of calling me 'Penny'.

The two men took me into the kitchen, and Nicholas quickly cleaned away everything breakable. That was when I began to get suspicious.

After Nicholas' usual act of not getting to the point, I managed to wring a confession out of him. He and Albus had agreed that Albus should look after the Stone, without consulting me, of course. Nicholas still seemed to believe that woman were inferior and not worth bothering with, even women over half a millennium old!

That was when I started looking for breakable objects.

I think I'll skim over the next ten minutes, and jump to the famous Albus Dumbledore explaining to me why he had to keep the Stone.

"So Voldemort's after it?" I asked, using the so-called 'Dark Lord's' name.

"Indeed. I believe you may be safer if I keep the Stone, at present. That is, if you have any Elixir of Life?" What happened to that thing called 'free will'?

Well, of course we had enough Elixir. Nicholas and I could each live for over a year with the amount we had at the moment.

I entrusted the Philosopher's Stone almost willingly to Dumbledore's safekeeping and continued to mourn my loss of free will and live on borrowed time.

AN: Review, please! So far I've only got one reviewer to thank - Ronnikins4mione. Thankyou for reviewing!