15th century

Shit.

How the…

No.

Nicholas started turning his own home upside down. It couldn't be gone. The stone wasn't the only thing that had disappeared. Many of his notebooks and the sack of money he had stored under his floorboards were gone too. But the stone…shit. Who could have taken it? Only a wizard could have broken through his wards. He cast the Tandum spell upon his small flat in London that he stood panting in the middle of. Nothing. Whoever had stolen it hadn't used any magic. How had they…. He screamed, sending his work haphazardly stacked on his table flying. He couldn't have lost it. He had forgot years ago the methods to make another. Had he truly lost his most meaningful piece of work? But why would anyone steal it? Perhaps they had confused it for a gem of some sort. But he couldn't have been so stupid to have been able to lose it. He fell to the floor, scrambling around on his hands and knees. It had to be here somewhere. He pressed his face right to the uneven wooden planks, peering under every side cabinet and table, meticulously working his way through his home.

"Nicholas?"

He jumped up at the voice, hitting his head on the table he was under, sending more papers flying.

"Ah! Yes, I'm here Xabier," he sighed getting up as Xabier Rocha looked at him as if he was mad. Xabier had green eyes and red hair. His soft round face only blemished by dark freckles on his nose and neck.

"What are you doing?"

"I thought I'd lost something," Nicholas said, looking once again at the floor.

"Have you?" Xabier asked, mimicking his action.

"That is no concern of yours. What do you want?"

"The council is holding another meeting of the formation of a parliament. I thought you might wish to be present."

He twirled round the flat, flicking his wand at the mess he had made, with more than was needed. They had seemingly forgotten to invite him to the circle. Again. Although it was no longer known as the circle. It no longer had the 'come one, come all' aura that had lingered like the plague for the last two centuries. However, now he missed those days of their world being run by the homeless and mad. Now the council consisted of its own elite, and coincidently, rich members. And now they were trying to push forward an elected parliament similar to the same political system the muggles had. Nicholas was hardly fond of the muggle government.

"When is it?" he snapped, tying his outer cloak on. Xabier muttered a spell behind him.

"In about five minutes."

Nicholas groaned, before leading Xabier out by the collar of his cloak into the streets.

"This system will not only bring about an ever changing system that would reflect the magical need at the time but could also allow for an unbiased leader who would stay for the good of our country." Many of the wizards and witches in the oval, candle lit room muttered in agreement. Nicholas only rolled his eyes, had none of these people ever met a politician.

"You speak as if the system we have in place does not already do that, it changes as the generations do."
"Perhaps but it is chaos."
"But it is the true voice of the people."

Eliou Esau harrumphed, fiddling with his pocket watch. Avidan Malfoy beside Esau spoke up. "This system has served the muggles well enough, better than our own system," he drawled slowly.
"I didn't know you believed muggles to be above in any sense."
He smiled, "they are not, that is not to say that once in a blue moon they don't have some good ideas."
"What we have right now is infeasible," said the young lady Avery, leaning across the table as she gestured. "What we need is someone who has the skills WE need in a leader. Not an entire population, who are ignorant."
"But they know what they want."
The meeting continued in the same vein for several hours, until, frustrated, Rostom Andria called the bickering to an end. Once Nicholas had left the underground hall, he was grimly reminded once again of his missing stone. If someone had stolen it, what would they do with it? Sell it? But to whom? It could be to anyone. He shuddered as he remembered his sagging skin, as it stretched and wrinkled within moments, the tiredness as death tried to take him. He was through with that. If he had to create another so be it. He had barely stepped through his door before he dropped his wand as something was thrown at his face. He looked dumbfounded at the stone in his hands.
"What the-" he whispered, before looking up at who had thrown it. She was sitting, arms and legs folded on his desk, looking at him in anger, as if he was the intruder. He stared at her for a moment before hurriedly trying to pick up his wand. But it went shooting into the woman's hands before he could wrap his fingers around it. He could barely muster the strength to be angry at the woman. Too relieved to have the stone back.

"What in God's is that?"

He stood up slowly, still looking dumbfounded at the woman.

"I took it to everyone I know and none of them knew what it was? And do you know what that means? It's worthless," she sniffed indignantly.

"You... you broke into my home."

"If you don't tell I'll…break your wand."

He shrugged, "I can make another."

The woman's expression changed instantly, "you can do that?" she whispered excitedly. He nodded, still confused as to what the woman was doing here.

"I used to live next to a field of imp trees."

The woman nodded, smiling, "I've always wanted to see an imp tree."

"What are you doing here?"

The woman sighed, "well I didn't know you were a wizard until I sensed the wards, I wouldn't steal from a fellow magic user otherwise... but I thought while I'm here... " she trailed off and jumped off his desk.

"Where's my money?" He asked, not truly caring.

"Well this dress wasn't going to pay for itself," she twirled slightly. Indeed, her dress did look beautiful, it had detailed embroidery and was made of shining blue silk.

"And yet you return to my home, the home you have robbed."

"Well I wanted to return that and…well…" she looked up at the roof for a second before shrugging. "Who are you?"

"Nicholas…who are you?" And why are you still in my home?

"Perenelle." She stuck out her hand. He hesitantly took it.

"So…what exactly is that?"

"Why are you still in my home?" he said frustrated.

"You are very handsome."

Nicholas found the flattery slightly numbing, no longer feeling as complemented as he would have a century ago. She handed him back his wand.

"Is it just a paperweight?" she continued to question.

"It makes people immortal."

"I see," she said slowly, before heading back over to his desk leafleting through his papers.

"Who are you?"

"I told you."

"No, what are you doing here?"

The woman shrugged, hopping onto his desk, misplacing more of his notes. He was too tired to care any more rubbing his palms into his eyes.

"I came here from Bristol with my husband. To seek fame and glory!" she laughed to herself, "then he decided I wasn't…worthy anymore." She shrugged again, absentmindedly picking through his notes, smiling sadly.

"My wife is dead."

She looked up again, snapping his notebook shut, "I'm sorry to hear that my lord. What took her?"

"Stubbornness."

The woman hummed. He wished he hadn't brought up Elisabeth. It had been so long he had forgotten what she had even looked like. Only that he'd loved her, completely and utterly.

"Do you truly want to see an imp tree?"

He never thought he'd find himself back here. He hadn't returned to this house since his wife had died. Yet somehow he could still apparate here with no trouble. The ruins of his old home still stood in the centre of the once gardened forest. The forest north west of his house was filled with imp trees in Oak and Ash. He escorted Perenelle past the burned down and crumbling mansion towards said forest.

"My!" She whispered in shock as they looked at the burned house. He turned round and realised she had run into the ruins.

"Perenelle!"

She jumped over a rotting beam, damp from the rain.

"What happened here?" she shouted back, twirling to face him.

"The last owner went crazy and burnt the house down when his wife died, killing everyone inside- so they say."

"I wondered if there's anything to…take."

"Nothing of worth anymore, it happened over a century ago."

"I thought you said you used to live here."

"I did."

"And I believed I had an awful living space." He raised his eyebrows. "Having to live under these," she kicked one of the planks of old wood, scattering soaked slinters.

He sighed, "come now Perenelle," he said exasperatedly, striding forward purposefully. He found that now he was back here he had a strong desire to leave. They finally arrived at the forest, Perenelle skipping ahead to look closely at the nearest tree.

"It doesn't really look that different."

"Not all the tree are imp trees, you have to give it a good kick." He kicked the tree with his heel, "if it is an imp tree, the imps should come out." They looked at the tree for a few more second before heading to the next one. Perenelle started hitting the trees as well with vigour as they moved deep into the forest. Finally, Nicholas found one of the infamous trees, unfortunately for him, the imps were not as tolerant of his behaviour as they had been when he was a child. Disturbed rudely from their slumber, they lunged at him, their small but sharp claws scratching his cloak and hand. He swore loudly, Perenelle rushed to his aid.

"Impedimenta!" she called, freezing both Nicholas and the imps. She brushed them off him, laughing as she did so. "Come on, get up."

He slowly moved, grabbing her hand as he fought against the pressing spell. Finally, they made their way slowly out of the forest.

When he finally shook off the spell on the outskirts of the forest he muttered angrily, "Blasted buggers bit me."

"No they didn't," Perenelle laughed, "there isn't a bite on you."

He gave no comment as they walked back towards the ruins.

"So that's they make out wands out of?"

"Yes, they are made out of fallen branches, well of course you have the core as well."

"What's that?"

He raised his eyebrows again, "Well it is what the middle of your wand is made from…weren't you informed of this when yours was made?"

She twirled her wand in front of her. "I stole it," she smiled slightly like a guilty child.

"Do you steal everything?"

"Not everything, just…most things."

"Why?"

"Because money is very important in this society."

"But what if you get caught?"

Perenelle's grin fell immediately, "then I'll be burnt for crimes," she said quietly, before turning around. Gone was the child like manner as Nicholas watched, mildly curious as Perenelle wandered away with slightly hunched shoulders. She turned on the spot, apparating.

"Until next time," she cried as she disappeared.

"What are you doing today?"

Nicholas jumped, as he did so he felt Perenelle close behind him, which in turn made him leap back at his desk, spilling his potion. A few clean up spells later and Nicholas disposing of his burnt clothes, he sat in his under clothes sipping tea with Perenelle.

"So…what was that?" Perenelle asked finally.

"It was a small experiment of mine, looking at the neutralising of an ethyl complex with elderberries."

"Ah," she sipped her tea, "I'm sorry."

"No worries, I can recreate it later."

Perenelle chuckled, "What?"

"I was just wondering what quite could make you angry."

"Not many things anymore."

"Why? Because of your wife?"

"When you've lived as long as I have…you realise most things are insignificant."

"What, because you are immortal?"

He nodded, watching Perenelle as he sipped his tea, watching her over his cup. She was very beautiful, with pale skin and large brown eyes, her pale lips were full and constantly shaped into a smirk. She tittered at him, brushing invisible crumbs from the same black dress she had been wearing before.

"You can just tell me that the rock is just a pretty rock you found, I won't laugh."

"Stone," he corrected but said nothing else.

"So your wife, if she died, why didn't you make her immortal?"

"She refused to become immortal."

"Ah, stubbornness, I see," she inclined her cup, and drank the entirety of the tea. She once again dusted off her dress and admired his rooms. "This place could certainly be a lot tidier," she muttered.

"You come in here, steal my money and criticise my cleaning ability." He didn't realise how weird their situation was, him drinking tea with his robber.

"I'm not criticising you, I'm…merely trying to be helpful. I could tidy for you, it's the least I could do. Although…I could do…other things."

Nicholas he slowly sipped his tea. "You could pay me back."

"Yeah but that's not as fun."

"And cleanings fun?"

"I wasn't talking about cleaning."

Nicholas sighed, looking at the dregs of his cup. Some wizards believe they could tell the future. Some wizards needed to be drowned at birth.

"Well I guess I need to organise my papers."

She laughed at him before also standing.

"Nicholas! Nich- oh," Xabier stood in the doorway to his flat, looking at the two people crouched on the floor. Nicholas looked out of the window,

"is that really the time already?" He settled down the pieces of papers he'd been collecting together and stood up.

"Umm," Xabier continued to gorm at Perenelle.

"Ah yes," Nicholas said, offering a hand to his lady friend, "this is Perenelle, Perenelle this is Xabier."

She curtseyed, "It is good to meet you my lord."

"Err yes, well…err Nicholas we need to leave."

"Of course," he said bowing at his friend, collecting his scarf off the floor.

"Where are you going?"

"To the circle."

"Ooh, the circle, can I come?"

"Well anyone can, I'm speaking."

"Ooh!"

The meeting was the same futile nonsense as before, the only excitement coming from Perenelle's constant questioning behind him, yet even Nicholas had to reprimand her when it was his turn to speak.

"So what exactly do they wish to do?"

"They wish to make a selectable council similar to the parliament that the muggles have."

"But why?"

"Because they want to rule the wizarding world themselves," he huffed, straightening his jacket.

"Well demand them and their selfish ways!" Perenelle giggled slightly. (I'm not sure what you're wanting to say here)

"Are you mocking me?"

"Politics was never my thing."

"Well of course not, you are a woman."

She tittered, "for all you know I could be the daughter of a country ruling politician, or my husband for that matter."

"Is he?" Nicholas asked a little too quickly.

"Why?" she chuckled, "no, he was not."

"Was?"

"Yes."

"What happened to him?"

"What does the stone do?"

"I've told you, it makes you-" before he could finish, Perenelle had flung her arms over his shoulder and kissed him. She pressed hard against the back of his head, urgently delving her tongue into his mouth, Keely,(Keely?) the action begging for something he was too stoic to give. Nicholas replied in weight but refused to match her enthusiasm as she buried her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, melding herself against his body. She finally, reluctantly pulled away, her eyes searching him with adoration. He said nothing, gently pulling her still gripping hands from his scalp.

"Well?" she said breathlessly, licking her shining lips, "say something."

He started to walk further into his home, sitting himself down in the nest of papers he had made himself.

"What is there to say?" he said, not looking at her, instead busying himself with his papers.

"I…well I just kissed you…you…say something!" Her voice faltered and broken as she blurted out her emotion filled stutters. He looked up. She was bent forward slightly as if his coldness was causing her physical pain, her face red, her eyes bulging. Her black hair had been untied from her usual ponytail and was strewn over her face, clinging to her cheeks. She looked human, the definition of unbridled emotions Nicholas could no longer feel. He should pity the girl, this homeless thief that had taken such any interest in him.

"Do you wish to do it again?" he asked, looking back down at the paper, placing it delicately on a pile to his left before turning back to her. Her eyes were flicking around the room, her mouth hanging open. His dismissive question had clearly hurt her more, but he did nothing while waiting for her answer.

"I…. of course."

"Then perhaps you should start helping me and you may get to."

This was such an odd predicament. Nicholas pondered upon it as Perenelle moaned above him, seemingly needing no assistance from him except to lie still. This girl, a child to him, seemed, for lack of a better word, obsessed. If he had to guess, she needed to hide, she was running from what had happened to her husband. But why steal from him first? Perhaps the girl wasn't as clever as he was giving her credit for. Perenelle had stopped moving, leaning over him, panting, smelling like sweat and sex. She was still moaning a low passion driven gasp as she licked her way up his neck.

"Why me?" he asked before she reached his mouth. She drew away, leaving a cold trail of saliva, making Nicholas' hair stand on end.

"I love you," she gasped. Good lord she was a child. He rolled his eyes. "Am I doing something wrong?" she asked timidly, too shy for the situation she had put them in.

"No, I spent a lot in France, in that time I indulged in the more undignified of human urges, you'll have to forgive me for I seem to have become accustomed."

"So you're asking me to act like a French whore?"

Nicholas laughed, shaking his head in disbelief, "No, never, I'm merely saying I don't feel the urges quite as much as you."

"How much time did you spend there?"

"Nearly fifty years."

She sighed before rolling onto her side, wrapping herself around him. He once was surprised by the woman's boldness but didn't say anything and turned over.

"What are we working on today?"

Perenelle had kept a safe distance from him this time, as Nicholas jumped slightly.

"The same thing I was working on before."

"An yes…sorry."

"Well perhaps you could continue…with papers."

She obeyed. It was the same routine for months they followed. To Nicholas it only felt like days, the changing of the season nothing more than a forgotten nuisance to him.

"Will you ever tell me what happened between you and your husband?"

Perenelle raised an eyebrow, "He…was a merchant and a muggle. When we came to London, oh, he was so excited, we both were. But…when I told him I was a witch, he…" she was shaking, "he…" She looked disgusted by the words rising up her throat. "I never had a wand and I had to get one after that."

There was silent after that, Perenelle was biting her lip, looking at the carpet of the small flat unseeing, her mind in memories she'd surely wish to forget.

"I killed him. Slit his throat. He bled out of top of me. I'd never felt happier, just feeling…. his blood leave him." She whipped her head round to face Nicholas, realising what she had just said and began to get up in horror of what she had said.

"When my wife died, I felt like I had to died too. We hadn't spoken in years you see. But when she died…I had to join her. I set my own house on fire, her friends and her doctor still inside. All I did was watch them as they…ran around like rats screaming, burning. Have you ever seen someone burn?"

Perenelle shook her head, her eyes transfixed on Nicholas.

"The fire isn't what kills you, it's the fumes, but I got to watch them melt, burn to the bone. I envied them…I couldn't join them." He too stared at the carpet, remembering the fire surrounding him, refusing to take him. He was drawn out of his thoughts by Perenelle straddling his lap and kissing his deeply. It should have disgusted him how she was aroused by death, yet he did nothing as he carried the panting, clawing woman to the bedroom.

She was going to die. Nicholas sat up in bed, staring the dark wall in front of him. He had watched everyone around him die but not since his wife had he felt his scared. He looked down at the strange woman.

"I love you too." He gathered her up his arms, feeling his cold sweat warm against the skin. "Please…don't be like her." She stirred in his arms, humming as she turned.

"We work as a unit, as one! The system you want would only lead to bias."

"A bias for the greater good of wizard kind!"

Nicholas kicked the door of his home, startling Perenelle.

"Dear, what's wrong?" she said standing, Nicholas ignored her as Xabier continuing to talk.

"We are gaining more followers slowly, we'll be able to be them soon."

"Too slowly, and it isn't about followers! That's exactly the system we're trying to fight!" He glared at his young friend who stumbled over his words.

"Just get out!"

Xabier scurried away as Nicholas turned to Perenelle, "For once I wish time would speed up so those stupid pigs would die."

Perenelle looked at the stone and sighed, "Come on, I have something that might cheer you up," she strode into the bed. Nicholas sat down in his chair, sighing at Perenelle's simplicity but stopped abruptly as she returned from the bedroom carrying a full purse.

"What is this?"

"It's your money," she grinned as she knelt in front of him.

He looked down at the bag and then at her face.

"You…did you steal this?"

"No! I earned it!" she tittered at his suggestion, but he held her face as she tried to turn away.

"How?"

She licked her lips and smiled brightly, "I swear you haven't aged a day since I met you."

He sighed, dropping his hand and taking the bag, "Of course I haven't, I'm immortal."

Perenelle looked at the stone sitting on his mantle place, "It really does make you immortal," she whispered.

Nicholas leaned forward, heart beating fast, please don't let this fail again."If you want, I can make you immortal too."

She slowly smiled, "As long…I want to see the world."

"Of course, anything." As long as I don't need to be alone anymore. They left England that night, a note left for Xabier on his door. He knew the young man would perhaps be upset, but it held no matter to him. The circle would also be able to do as they pleased to his country. But none of it mattered and he would come back one day, he had all the time in the world until then.