So, some of you might be wondering if the Flamels ever discover the theft of the Stone and how they and Dumbledore would react once they do.
The following chapter will explain what happened in between Hadria arriving home and gifting the Stone to Gellert.
I hope you'll enjoy what I've written for this.
Pairings: Potential Hadria (FemHarry) x Tom Riddle, but more platonic than romantic, other pairings undecided.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
Beta-ed by: Miso_sleepy
Chapter Twenty-One: Interlude 02, Au Revoir
"Ave atque vale." Hail and farewell. ~ Catullus
If there was something the Flamels did not expect—and it was hard to surprise a couple that have lived for over 600 years and seen a great many things—it was the sudden appearance of a small shadowy figure in the middle of their living room. They might have been less surprised if it had been a tall shadowy figure, but as it was, the figure was... child-sized.
"Good evening," said Nicholas Flamel, because uninvited visitor or not, he was a well-mannered old man.
"Good evening!" The figure—practically a silhouette—all but chirped. It was very dark, like a cut-out in the fabric of the universe, and had no discernible features, save for a pair of glowing green orbs—eyes, probably. Flamel couldn't be certain, because he wasn't even sure if the figure was human.
But it was polite, at least. He couldn't say the same for many of his previous encounters with... unwanted presences, which came part-and-parcel with being a well-known and wealthy alchemist.
So he invited the silhouette to the drawing room where Perenelle had some tea and refreshments prepared, late as it may be.
"You must be wondering what I'm here for," said the silhouette, when they were seated. Nicholas noted that it had to be humanoid, since it accepted the tea provided with two—well, it might be forelimbs, or arms, he couldn't tell, since it was rather dark and shadowy. If it was a glamour, it was one that he couldn't see through.
"I must admit, I haven't any idea what might have prompted the visit of... one such as yourself," said Nicholas, and was mildly disconcerted to hear the silhouette giggle.
The silhouette took a sip of tea, and Nicholas watched with some morbid fascination as the elegant porcelain teacup disappear into the shadows of its... head, where he assumed its mouth must be, before it reappeared again with less tea in it.
"Well, it's actually about that Stone of yours. Quite an outstanding achievement, I've been informed. My... let's call them my superiors. Well, my superiors are very impressed, and that's saying something."
Superiors, Nicholas took another note. This... thing, was part of an organisation, it seemed. There were many organisations in the Wizarding world, and he knew of quite a few that would be very interested in acquiring his greatest invention, but he couldn't tell which one might his visitor belong to. Still, there was no need for any accusations or general unpleasantness... yet.
"What about the Stone?" He asked. Slowly. Calmly. Not quite as surely as he hoped, because he knew he was powerful, knew that he had bested many others who had sought the Stone before, believed, even, that if the wraith of Lord Voldemort himself came knocking at his door, he would be able to hold his ground, at the very least. Besides, the Stone was at Hogwarts, under the secure protection of his friend.
But.
But there was something about the silhouette that made him uneasy. Something about it that didn't feel Right.
"I have it, your Stone, in my possession—" Nicholas almost stood up in shock, but stopped himself in time. "—Did you know how ridiculously easy it was to acquire it?"
"Explain," said Perenelle, the first word she spoke that evening, and for a moment, she bore a resemblance to a certain Hogwarts Deputy Headmistress.
The silhouette took another sip of tea. "I can provide a memory, if you'd like. But in summary, the strongest protection the Stone had was the Mirror of Erised. I trust that both of you understands how it works?"
Receiving affirming nods, it continued, "It is quite an ingenious thing, I must admit, but anyone smart and knowledgeable enough would be able to figure it out in the end. Perhaps it would serve as a decent protection, if it were the last of a series of challenges that would wear down a thief both physically and mentally, to ensure that they would not be able to make a sound judgement by the time they reach the Mirror. As it is, the challenges placed before it could easily be overcome by anyone skilled enough, and I think all of us here are aware that the one you guard against is skilled enough, even in their weakened state."
"And even in their weakened state, it would be unwise to underestimate the Thief, considering their identity and the object in question," Perenelle finished, clearly seeing the same problems as the silhouette. She turned to her husband, who had paled, and said, "I won't say I told you so. What's done is done. But remember this, the next time your old friend suggests something of similar nature. He means well, I'm sure, but he is also getting on in age."
(It might have been amusing, for a couple as old as themselves, to comment on the old age of another, but they did have the benefit of the Philosopher's Stone, which helped to preserve their youth.)
Then Perenelle turned to the silhouette, "Thank you, for informing us of our own folly. Is there anything we can do for you, since you already have our Stone in your hands."
The silhouette materialised a crimson stone from the depths of its, well, somewhere, and presented it to them. The Flamels didn't need to touch it to be able to tell that it was indeed their Stone. And then it surprised them—for it seemed like there was nothing but surprises that evening—with its question.
"Would you part with it?" It asked. "Willingly. I could purchase it from you, for a price. I know it's worth, so I won't say I can give you anything for it. But—"
"Pardon me," said Nicholas, interrupting it. "That—Well, you already have the Stone, don't you?"
"Indeed, yes," said the silhouette, with a tilt of its head—cute, was a word he did not think he would use to describe an unknown near-featureless entity, but it was, cute, he thought. "But you haven't relinquished ownership of it. You've lent it to Dumbledore, and I've... I suppose I've stolen from him. Therefore, the Stone is still yours."
There was a short pause, as the Flamels digested what it said. Nicholas was now very glad he hadn't evicted the silhouette when he first set his eyes upon it.
"So, what if we said no? If we wished to have our Stone returned?" He asked. And the silhouette placed the Stone on the table, between the plate of biscuits and the teapot. The moment it lost contact with the silhouette, a certain force seemed to spread across the room, a weight in the air that felt a bit like... exhaustion. It was a familiar feeling, one that settled upon them like a well-worn cloak, one that they hadn't realised had been absent until now, one that they hadn't felt since about a week ago.
And suddenly, Nicholas knew what it was, quite ironically.
Age.
"What do you know," said Perenelle conversationally. "I'm not certain I want it back after all."
She gave the silhouette a Look. "You're not human, are you?"
When she saw the silhouette still, as if considering its own humanity, she amended, "Let me clarify. You're not mortal, are you?"
The silhouette gave a sheepish cough that did seem rather human. "I suppose I'm not. Probably."
For a moment, the Flamels wondered if they should've taken the silhouette's size at face value. Whatever it was, it didn't seem very old, right at that moment.
"How much time do we have left?" Nicholas asked, because it seemed like it had come down to that.
"Oh," said the silhouette. "Well, I assume you still have a certain amount of Elixir left?"
"Yes, indeed we do. Enough to last us a couple of months, at least."
The silhouette took back the Stone and played with it. "Do you need more? Time?"
They exchanged glances, then Nicholas said, "A month is enough for us to settle our affairs, and we have more time than that, so no, I don't think we need more time."
The silhouette bobbed its head in an imitation of a nod. "Then I'll come back in two months' time. For now, do you wish to destroy the Stone, or are you willing to sell it to me?"
"Ah," Nicholas glanced at his wife again before glancing back at it. "First things first, why would you need to return?"
"Well, you deserve it. As I said, your accomplishments have impressed my superiors. And you have a good heart," said the silhouette. (Its superiors, Nicholas now knew, weren't the sort he had imagined at first.) "You can consider it as a sign of acknowledgment. I've been informed I can see you off, and I'd like to."
Nicholas nodded, taking it in stride as well he could, even though the evening had been somewhat overwhelming. "Then what will you do with the Stone, if we choose not to destroy it?"
"Oh, I intend to gift it to another, actually. A mortal human," said the silhouette. "But they have no need for youth or riches, I don't think, so I cannot say for sure what it will be used for. Research perhaps—they've got quite a thirst for knowledge."
"Hmm... you have no need for it yourself, I suppose," Nicholas acknowledged.
This time, the silhouette actually made a very human jerky action. "Well, I might use it. Though if I do, it would only be once, and I'll be honest, I cannot be certain if you'll approve of it."
That gave them pause. For one, they couldn't fathom what a human with at least half a foot into the Higher realm would need a paltry Philosopher's Stone for, something that was practically a miracle in the mortal world, but was basically just an interesting trick to those from Beyond. For another, they had sensed no malice, no unkindness in the thing before them—of course, it could just be hiding very well, and deities weren't always benevolent entities—but it implied that whatever it would do with the Stone was likely to be morally wrong.
Nicholas considered all the possibilities, before sending his wife a questioning look, and she shrugged in response.
"Go ahead, I don't mind," she said.
So, Nicholas said, "We both know that even though the Stone is still technically ours, we can't actually stop you from misusing it. The only reason why we're here, having this conversation, is because you have decided to let us regain control over it. As something that has allowed us to delay Death for so long, I do not believe there is any inherent law that prevents you from confiscating it from us, let alone return it to us. You gain no benefit from this either, since the only options you have given us will have us accept our long-awaited fate, and you must be aware that we will not be bequeathing any of our assets to anyone, as all will be donated. There is nothing we can do, politically, to help you and yours, either. Neither will you suffer harm, should you have kept the Stone, as I doubt we could track its theft to you, once it has been discovered."
He pinned the silhouette with a sharp gaze belying his age. "Keep the Stone. Use it as you will. We will gift it to you freely. But may the Higher Ones judge you and hold you accountable for the consequences that arise because of it."
If this fazed the silhouette, it did not show it, though it did straighten with a certain gravity. "Thank you, for the gift."
Perenelle waved it off. "No need for thanks. It is already good enough to know that there will be someone to personally send us off."
Nicholas nodded in agreement, and couldn't help but ask, "What's it like, can you say? Beyond. Albus likes to call it the next great adventure."
"He's not entirely wrong," said the silhouette. "Though it's not quite as exciting as that, I suppose. It is peaceful. Like home and nostalgia. There is, after all, some truth in the phrase 'Rest in Peace'. And you'll definitely meet old friends there. I'm sure they've been waiting a long time for the both of you."
It paused, considered, then continued, "Speaking of Dumbledore. He'll arrive, I expect, tomorrow or the day after, with a stone. You'll find that it's a fake, of course. I'll appreciate it if you do not reveal that to him, assuming he hasn't discovered it yet. Our encounter is not the normal order of things, and should not be disclosed to others."
"Of course," Nicholas readily agreed. "We understand." And they did.
Then the silhouette stood up, retrieving the crimson red stone back into its shadows. And they followed, standing up, since it was clear the conversation was over. But suddenly, Nicolas wasn't sure if he should show the guest to the door. It had spontaneously appeared in their living room before.
"So, farewell then?" He asked.
"No," said the silhouette, with a smile in its voice. "It's see you next time."
Then it left.
One month later, the silhouette visited once more. It watched as the Flamels, now looking older and wizened, slowly laid down on the bed they shared. And it watched as the Flamels rose again, leaving their bodies behind.
They saw its face then, the face of a young girl, with Killing-Curse-green eyes, and dark wavy hair, a Sigel-mark on her forehead. There was a large black canid of mist and shadow and golden eyes beside her.
They shared a laugh at the turn of events, and she saw them off.
"Now, I suppose this is farewell?" Perenelle said, barely resisting the urge to pat the child on the head.
Hadria grinned back at them. "Nah, not quite. Things are never quite as final as you might think."
They laughed, and this time, Perenelle did rub the girl's head. "Then we will say goodbye, until we meet again."
And then they dissolved into silver light, following Scáth the Grim to their next destination.
And with that, the first arc is officially over. If you're wondering about Dumbledore, well, to his knowledge, the Flamels have decided to destroy the 'Stone' and settle their affairs before passing on.
Per a reader's request, I will be sharing what happened during Quirrell's trip down the forbidden corridor another day, as a side-fic. As I've mentioned in the previous chapter, I am now accepting requests for things I did not cover in any of my fics, such as certain details or a certain character's point-of-view, but under the premise that they are stuff that has already happened.
Another note: I have very belatedly realised that the name of this fic is a rather common one. However, I'm rather attached to it and I'm assuming some of you are as well. Any suggestions on how I can modify it? (For example, if you search in ao3 "danse macabre", you get 369 results. I'm not thinking of changing the title entirely, of course. Just... maybe adding words to differentiate it a bit, if you get what I mean.)