The Alchimist

Unsurprisingly, the house was old. Ancient, full of gargoyles and statues on the roof, with two large pillars standing to the left and right of the black door, and every gargoyle and statue, as far as they could tell, was made of pure gold.

"Well," Ron said succinctly.

To the left of Flamel Manor was a specialist shop for bicycle accessories, next to it a house, whose residents apparently were sitting in front of the TV and had no idea that they had once lived side by side with neighbors who had been born when the Plantagenets were still on the throne. The windows of the house were dark and deserted, apart from a single room on the first floor, where the curtains were illuminated from the inside by flickering light.

Harry took a deep breath, clutched his wand and climbed the seven steps to the door on which four symbols were painted: a flame, a wave, wind, and a stone. Hermione would know what this means, Harry thought and took the golden doorknob and once hit the polished wood vigorously. Immediately, the four symbols lit up brightly and began to spin, ever faster, until they joined together to create a single golden eye that looked suspiciously at him.

"State your name," the eye said.

"Harry Potter," Harry said, feeling something swaying over his tongue before the door swung inwards without anyone opening it. He felt Ron entering in front of him, and then followed. Behind them, the door closed by itself.

They were in a salon that lived up to the word in every way: everything was made of black marble, except for the things that were of gold. A wide staircase led to the upper floors, and from there he heard a deep voice say: "Homenum Revelio""HHjspüva

Ron cursed quietly.

"You have not come alone," the voice said coldly.

"To come alone would be stupid," Harry said, lifting his wand.

"Show yourself!" said the voice. "Who else is here?"

Harry nodded once and Ron appeared.

"Me," he said loudly, looking around.

"Mr. Weasley," the voice said, and now the speaker stepped on the railing above them. "How did you manage to accompany him?"

"We read the letter together," Ron said, staring at the speaker as suspiciously as Harry. It was a tall, serious man in his 50s, with more black hair than grey, smooth-shaven and with golden eyes, dressed in black robes with small, golden stars on them.

"For a dead man, you look pretty much alive, Mr Flamel," Harry said, because who else should he be?

"There's no time for jokes," Nicolas Flamel said. "Come upstairs."

They walked up the stairs and followed Flamel into a large room where a fire was burning. The walls were covered with shelves full of books, mostly with Arabic characters on their spines. Above the fireplace hung a painting showing Flamel and a pretty woman with grey hair. Flamel sat down in one of the armchairs in front of the fire and pointed silently at the other two armchairs.

"Is this Perenelle?", Harry asked as he sat down, nodding over to the painting.

"Yes," Flamel said, his face serious. "She's the reason I asked you to come here."

"She was in this bookstore, wasn't she?"

Harry made his second guess. Flamel Manor was in Exeter, and the bookstore was not far away.

"Precisely," Flamel said, suspiciously eyeing Ron. "Do you vouch for him?"

"Absolutely," Harry said, frowning. "Why are we here?"

"My wife and son have been kidnapped," Flamel said softly, pulling a letter from his cape, which he handed to Harry. "And the kidnappers will kill them when I alert the Aurors."

"Your son?" asked Ron, bewildered. "We didn't know you had a son."

"Nobody knows about Hermes except us and Garrick," Flamel growled. "At least I believed that."

"Not even Dumbledore?"

"Dumbledore didn't even know we were still alive."

Harry, who had finished reading the letter, thoughtfully sampled the photo that lay there: Perenelle and her son, who could not be ten years old, both chained and gagged.

"They demand that he gives them two samples of the elixir of life, until midnight," he said to Ron, then stared at Flamel.
"One sample for the kidnapper and one for Perenelle," the alchemist confirmed darkly.

"Could he copy it?"

"Impossible," Flamel said. "He wants to drink it."

"And you'll do it?"

"I have to," he growled, his golden eyes flashing angrily. "The elixir has to be drunk once a week, and Perenelle and I take it every Tuesday. If she doesn't drink it until tomorrow night, she will die. So if you don't have a brilliant plan for how we can free them until then, I'll have to do what he demands.'

"Will he release them afterwards?" Ron asked.

"Nothing of this is in the letter," Flamel said. "But I have no choice."

"Tell us the whole story," Harry said, massaging his forehead tiredly. "Why are you still alive?" He pointed to the picture. "Is he the reason?"

Flamel leaned back and looked into the flames.

"Yes," he said. "We destroyed the stone and had already settled everything, had little left of the elixir... then Perenelle noticed that she was pregnant." He laughed hollowly. "After all these years..." The flames sparkled in his golden eyes. "When we were young, we never wanted children," he said. "Our research was far more important to us. When we wanted to, it never worked. And just when we were ready to leave, it happened." He looked at them and shrugged. "That changed everything. We knew that Albus would never leave us alone, and that Voldemort would always be after the stone, so we pretended to have died. We did not leave the house, we broke off contact with all our friends. There is even a grave in the cemetery. But the truth is that we made a new stone and then raised our son."

"And Ollivander knew about it?"

"Only since last year," Flamel growled. "After you defeated Voldemort, we dared to leave the house, but always in disguise, apart from a few visits into the muggle world. Garrick has always been our friend and we knew he had suffered in captivity, so I contacted him again and brewed him some potions that improved his condition. In return, he made wand for Hermes."

"A wand?", Harry asked, bewildered. 'He can't be eight at most. Normally-"

"Hermes won't go to Hogwarts," Flamel said coolly. "The risk would be far too high. We teach him ourselves, and he is old enough to use a wand."

The alchemist rattled. "What are you going to do?"

Harry and Ron exchanged glances.

"So you insist on not officially alerting the Aurors?"

"That would be too dangerous," Flamel growled. 'I don't trust them. Over the centuries, many people have tried to do something to get to the stone or the elixir." He looked Harry in the eye. "I trust you, Mr Potter. You have already proven that you can resist the temptation."

"And only Ollivander knows that you live?"

"I believed that," Flamel growled.

"Ollivander is old and frail," Ron said hesitantly. "Surely that would be a motive-"

"Garrick would never do anything like this," Flamel said coolly. "And he was also with me this morning when it happened."

"That's such a coincidence," Ron said skeptically.

"No coincidence," Flamel growled. "We meet every Monday. Already for a year. Always at the same time. And I would have noticed if I had had breakfast with someone other than Garrick." He drummed his fingers on the armrest of his armchair. "What are you going to do?"

Harry took a look at his watch.

"The handover is in an hour," he said. "It is impossible that we will find out beforehand who the kidnapper is. We can only watch the whole thing and hope that he will show itself."

"It's too dangerous," Flamel hissed. "He demanded that I deposit the elixir in the bowl at the feet of Richard Hooker in front of the Cathedral and then leave. Otherwise he will kill my wife!"

"I read the letter," Harry said calmly. 'But if we hide under the cloak, he won't notice us.'

"A simple spell is enough to notice you!"

"Homenum Revelio can only be used in the open air," Ron said.

Flamel pulled out his wand. "Accio invisibility cloak! ", he grumbled. Nothing happened and the alchemist frowned in confusion. "Why-"

"It doesn't matter," Harry said succinctly. He had not the slightest interest in philosophizing with Flamel about the Deathly Hallows. "The only thing that matters is that he won't notice us."

"You can't arrest him," Flamel growled. "What if there are more than one?"

"I have your son and wife," Harry read aloud, handing the letter back to Flamel. "I, not we. But you are right, that would be too risky. We will only watch whoever comes to get the elixir."

Flamel didn't look particularly satisfied, but he nodded narrowly and got up.

"I rely on you to find them, Mr Potter," he said coolly.

"We will," Harry said.

"And what then?", Ron asked as they left the house and stood back on the dark street. "How can we find out who kidnapped two people whose existence no one knows about?"

"We'll talk to Ollivander again," Harry said. "Find out who else he had close contact with."

"Do you think he would tell someone?"

"You were the one who just said..."

Ron shrugged. "It would have been stupid not to say anything."

"Ollivander has been in Voldemort's hands for over a year," Harry said. "Voldemort has scoured his mind countless times. For someone who is good at legilimency, it would certainly not be impossible to read his thoughts. I doubt he's a good occlumens."

"Without him noticing?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm not an expert. Either way, we should talk to him. Tomorrow morning."

"Okay," Ron sighed, massaging his temples. "But before that we have to observe this exchange. Who the hell is Richard Hooker?"