Written for the Hogwarts Forum
Gobstones- Bronze Stone- memories (Accuracy: "Did you find anything?" Power: library Technique: chestnut brown)
Around the World in 31 Days (New Zealand: Nicolas Flamel)
Nicolas glances up when he hears the soft thud against the table. He recognizes Perenelle Beauchamp from a few classes, and he's always thought she was lovely, but he's never done more than just steal glances. He can't imagine why she's chosen to sit at this table when there are plenty of empty ones in the library.
"Did you find anything?" She leans forward, her chestnut brown ringlets falling in her face.
"Pardon?"
She taps his book with her finger. "You're always in here, looking at alchemy books," she clarifies. "You look like a man on a mission."
He feels heat creep into his cheeks. His eyes quickly flicker to the pages. How can he explain his dreams to her? She is clever, but will she understand his ambition? "Not yet," he says. "Maybe one day."
Her lips quirk into a soft smile. "Best of luck, then."
"Nicolas?"
He glances up from his parchment, smiling softly at his wife. The centuries have caught up to her. Her curls have faded to dark grey. Her silky skin is lined and wrinkled. But she is still glorious in his eyes. "Yes, my love?"
"Come to bed," she says, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"I'm trying to get our affairs in order."
She presses a soft kiss to his cheek. Even now, after centuries of marriage, her touch sends shivers down her spine. "You look like a man on a mission," she teases, taking him back to that first day.
He turns his head so that their lips meet. "A much different mission than the old days," he chuckles.
Her slender fingers brush through his brittle white hair. "I'll be waiting for you," she assures him.
Perenelle continues to find him in the library. "What do you hope to accomplish?" she asks one day, chewing on the tip of her quill, her kind eyes studying him curiously.
It's been two months meeting like this, talking in whispers, forgetting the books placed before them. Perenelle has always watched him with those inquisitive bottle green eyes, and he feels like maybe she truly cares about what he wants out of life.
"I want to be the greatest alchemist this world has ever seen," he admits.
He expects her to laugh. After all, alchemy has fallen out of fashion in the fourteenth century. It's little more than a hobby to most. Instead, Perenelle leans in, her lips pressing to his cheek in the smallest of kisses. "You will. You are destined for great things, Nicolas."
Nicolas watches the flames dance in the fireplace, a small smile on his lips. As his days draw to an end, the memories of those peaceful centuries seem to grace his mind more and more frequently.
He had been afraid at first. He's lived so many centuries, and most men live fewer and go to their graves with a slew of regrets. He is a lucky one. His precious wife is all he sees when nostalgia comes to visit.
Nicolas returns his attention to the parchment.
"Perry, my love!" Nicolas rushes from his workshop, holding the stone in his hand. "I've done it! It works!"
She doesn't have to ask for clarification. With a bright grin, she waves her wand, moving the pot of soup from the fireplace and turning to him. "Wonderful news!" she beams, throwing her arms around her husband and holding him tightly. "I always knew you were destined for greatness!"
He presses a kiss to her forehead. He could not have done this without her. While it had been his hands that had crafted the stone, it had been her undying love and support that had kept him going, even when it felt hopeless.
Nicolas tucks the documents away. He is nearly finished, but there is still time. His days may be ticking away quickly, but there is still enough elixir to keep them alive for a while longer. He can concern himself with the odds and ends of death later. His wife is there, waiting for him, and that's all the consumes his mind now.
He snuffs the candles and makes his way into their bedroom, laying beside her. Perenelle rolls onto her side, gentle fingers caressing his withered cheeks. "Do you have any regrets?" she asks. "My mind turns back to this so often now that we are nearing the end."
"Only that we could not have forever," he answers simply.
Her head rests against his shoulder, and he feels her lips quirk into a smile against his shirt. "It is enough," she whispers. "Every moment with you is a gift."
Nicolas closes his eyes. When he's gone, he will be remembered as the greatest alchemist, but that no longer matters. He prays that they will remember him as the man who loved his wife more than the world.