I do not own Harry Potter, the Wizarding World, or any canon characters.
A Taste of Magic
40th Course – Chills and Flamels
"Hello Professor," Harry said, seeing Dumbledore walking into the common room.
"Hello Harry," Dumbledore said warmly. "How are you today?"
"Doing great. Finished all of my homework and just relaxing."
"Well done." He looked about the common room. "Is Hedwig out?"
"She's visiting the Browns," Harry smiled. "Playing with Lavender and Clover and Marigold and messing with Mr. Brown too."
Dumbledore chuckled. "That is kind of her and you. I do apologize for not allowing you to leave the school for the holiday. Under more normal times I would have liked to."
"I understand, Sir," Harry sighed. He really did and that was small consolation.
"That said, remember that pleasant surprise I had for you? Well it has come to the castle. Come with me."
"Oh, that sounds great." Harry eagerly followed after him. "I hope you didn't go through a lot of trouble for it."
"I did not," Dumbledore laughed. "But it has brought some trouble." He winked at Harry's concerned look. "You will understand soon." He led the boy to his office and Harry could hear voices coming down the circular stairwell.
"I cannot feel my toes! Dear Merlin and the Almighty, I have gotten frostbite!"
"Because you are touching my toes! Let go! And we were not even out on the grounds so you cannot claim you have frostbite!"
"Oh thank the powers! Why are your toes so cold?"
"Because I did not think I needed the thick socks inside, but now I know different. I am going to fix that right now."
"I hope Albus does not mind your bare toes in his office."
"As long as they are attached, I do not mind at all," Dumbledore laughed, leading a laughing Harry as well. Nicolas and Perenelle looked up and smiled when they saw Harry.
"Harry my boy!" Nicolas said exuberantly. "Good to see you!"
"It's good to see you too!" Harry smiled back.
"How do you feel about hugs?" Perenelle asked, pulling on some thick red socks.
"Oh I like them a lot," Harry said.
"Wonderful!" Perenelle hugged him firmly and he hugged her back shyly but warmly and did the same to Nicolas.
"Are you here for something important?" Harry asked.
"Fairly important yes," Nicolas said. "For you, of course."
"For me?" Harry asked, eyes wide.
"We came to visit you and spend time for the holiday," Perenelle said with a wide smile. "Albus told us you generally spend time here during the holidays and so here we are to spend time with you."
"You are? With me?" Harry was flabbergasted. "Why?"
"Because we want to and we like you," Nicolas said. "Though I will admit that we thought you should have come to us where it is not snowing and freezing and where things are nicer and warmer and with better fashion and all that-"
"-but Albus mentioned that it would not be safe for you to travel right now," Perenelle continued, giving Dumbledore a pawky look. "There is not many that could threaten us."
"Just being cautious," Dumbledore sighed.
"Oh yes, using Dementors is being cautious," Perenelle sniffed.
"Please, I genuinely hope this Sirius Black tries something while we are here," Nicolas said with a predatory smile. "It has been a long time since I have been able to let loose a bit and it will not be the first time that I have killed a member of the Bl-" he coughed when Perenelle jabbed him in the side.
"I'm sorry you have to spend the holiday here," Harry said weakly, clearly torn between delight and regret.
"Do not be, we are not," Perenelle soothed. "We are old and are fulfilling a stereotype that the elderly get cranky in the cold. I actually do not mind it. I like winter clothing."
"Besides," Nicolas said, rubbing his side, "we find ourselves craving your cooking and hope to bribe you to cook for us while we are here."
"You don't have to bribe me," Harry smiled.
"Splendid! Let us go and stuff ourselves with your cooking while we stuff you with things," Nicolas said and gently started pushing Harry to the door.
"You are not going to go bother Minerva first?" Dumbledore asked, smiling.
"She can wait, my stomach cannot," Nicolas laughed.
-0-
"Mmm, this is delightful," Perenelle sighed happily. She sipped more of the soup, enjoying the simple and rich taste of it. "I can feel myself warming up."
"Such a simple thing," Nicolas said, looking at this bowl with a critical eye. "Egg, chicken broth, salt, pepper, tomato, scallion, and a little cornstarch and you get this luxuriously silky soup. Egg drop?"
"Or egg flower. Sue taught me. I figured you both wanted something quick but tasty to warm up." After whipping together the egg flower soup swiftly, Harry was now making another with some direction from Perenelle. He had sliced several onions thinly and was now slowly caramelizing them inside a large pot. "It's really fast and tasty right?"
"Very much so, and very pretty," Perenelle said, admiring a spoonful of the clear broth with flecks of pepper and long silky ribbons of cooked egg, topped with a bit of scallion. "I could hardly believe how fast you made it." She slurped up the soup. "As opposed to the lengthy and laborious process that you are doing now."
"I don't mind," Harry smiled as he slowly moved the onions about, watching them slowly become dark brown and smelling sweet and rich. "I've always wanted to learn how to properly make it. I don't have anything else to do right now and love to putter in the kitchen."
"I prefer to putter on a green," Nicolas said as he ate. "Penny gets upset with me if I putt in the kitchen."
"Which he then got upset at me when I putted in his workshop," Perenelle sniffed. "If you can smack balls in the kitchen then I can smack them in your workshop."
Nicholas sighed dramatically. "Equality is a double-edged sword, let me tell you. Hey!" He gasped when Perenelle took his bowl from him and poured the contents into hers. "Thank you, Harry," he sniffed when a grinning Harry refilled his bowl with more soup. "At least someone cares about my well-being."
"And who might that be?" Perenelle asked cheekily.
Harry smiled, listening to the Flamels squabble. It was fun listening to them. They were light-hearted about it, smiling and laughing while they traded teasing insults and faux-barbed words. After the onions were completely soft and golden brown, he deglazed the pot with white wine that the Flamels had provided and filled the pot with beef stock. Seasoning was added and he set it to simmer, stirring it slowly.
"Now after it has simmered for some time, you ladle it into crocks and we top them with toasted baguette rounds and Gruyere cheese and pop them in the oven to melt the cheese and let everything get combined and finished," Perenelle said.
"Ah the hallmark of French cooking," Nicolas snorted. "Cook things for ages, doing the most work you can do, and then cover it all up at the end with something else."
"What do you like to eat?" Harry asked.
"Your food of course," Nicolas smiled. "But in general, there is very little I will not eat."
"It is true," Perenelle said ominously, "I have seen him eat many many things."
Nicolas smiled brightly. "French cooking is very dear, as you might expect and despite my jesting. I like simple things as much as complicated things. But to be honest, for a while, food was fuel. I did not really pay that much attention to flavors or whatnot." He shrugged. "A consequence of living so long and having eaten many things."
"But after your amazing tartiflette, we started looking for tasty things again," Perenelle said. "Trying new things, seeing what we have not had or had not had in a long time."
"It has been fun," Nicolas continued. "Why we even went to try some Muggle fast food which I think is a misnomer. It is not fast at all and this is coming from someone with an abundance of time."
"Not very good either," Perenelle lamented. "It lacks something."
"Taste," the Flamels said together and started laughing loudly.
Harry chuckled with them and he opened the oven door when he smelled the deliciously rich scent of toasting bread, beef and onion, and melted cheese. He took out the crocks and set them on the table, breathing deep. "That smells wonderful!"
"They really do!" Nicolas said eagerly. They barely waited for them to cool enough and tucked in.
"Mmmm, perfectly done," Perenelle praised.
"It's a great recipe," Harry said.
"Anyone can follow a recipe but it takes skill to follow it correctly as well as making it your own," Nicolas said. "Humility is a virtue but in excess it is a vice. Take pride in your skills my boy."
"I do," Harry said. He shrugged. "I actually had a cooking competition duel thing."
"Oh, do tell." They ate while Harry recounted the story of the Wellington versus the en croute duel. "Hmmph, while I am sad the en croute lost, I am also not because it was at your hand," Nicolas said. "Also good that you won. An unhappy Malfoy is a good thing."
Harry stifled a snort while Perenelle clicked her tongue at her husband. "This Malfoy is just a boy, dear."
"I know and he cannot help he was born into them but from Harry's side, he sounds unpleasant which is just fitting for that family. Bad faith indeed," Nicolas said. "I knew of them when they still resided in France. They were chased out and came here rather poor in coffer and character. After all these years, they got rich in the wrong part."
"Why were they chased out?" Harry asked with interest.
"They backed the wrong side in a bit of a clash between magical families and it was discovered they were trying to play both sides. So they were not too popular by the end." Nicolas snorted. "They always thought they were more clever than they were."
Eventually they were joined by Dumbledore, Flitwick, and McGonagall and they too praised Harry for the delicious French onion soup. As they and Nicolas got into a debate over something, Perenelle watched Harry finishing a second pot of the soup. "Making more for us? I thought there was still some left."
"This is for the Elves," Harry said. "I always make some for Inky and some others to have. I think Wheatley is really going to like it too. He's the Head Farmer for the crops and he was really proud of the onions."
"You are a very kind young man," Perenelle smiled. "There is not many that treat magical beings as well as you."
"They're really nice to me," Harry said. "Besides, it doesn't cost much to be nice I don't think."
"For some, it is a price they would not even think to pay," she said. She patted him on the back. "You are a good person, Harry."
He blushed. "Thank you," he said shyly. He hesitated for a moment. "Did you really come to visit with me?"
"We did. Did you think we were lying?" She gave him a playfully severe look.
"No," he laughed. "But I don't really understand why."
"Because we like you," she said sincerely. "You impressed us and well, we thought you could do with a bit of attention and comradery. We are also assisting Albus with some things but you were on the top of the list for why we came."
"Thank you," he said again, feeling warm.
She sighed softly, seeing his expression of happiness and wistfulness. She hugged him again and kept her arms around his shoulders, happy when he looked happy with the contact and gesture. "Thank you for having us," she said.
"Harry, did you really cook blood soup for Drake?" Nicolas asked, turning around.
"I did, it's called dinuguan," Harry nodded. "Well it's more of a pork braised in blood making a stew, but yeah, pretty much."
"Oh my," McGonagall said. "That sounds rather intense."
"It tasted wonderful," Flitwick said with Dumbledore nodding in agreement.
"He also mentioned something else," Harry said. "Something about you impaling something?"
"Oh no that was not completely my fault!" Nicolas said loudly. "Besides, just because something or someone gets spitted on a bit of wood or what have you does not necessarily mean that they were impaled technically."
"What happened-" Harry started.
"I still think that story should be saved for a future time," Dumbledore groaned.
"I need to have a word with Drake," Perenelle growled. "Filling our Harry's head with nonsense."
"No vow to make him pay for his libelous ways?" McGonagall asked dryly.
"No he spoke it making it slander," Nicolas said. "I will vow to make him pay for his slanderous ways however."
"Trust you to distill the distinction between the two," Flitwick laughed.
"If you are going to be correct, be annoyingly correct," Nicolas smiled.
"Do not listen to him, Harry," McGonagall said.
-0-
"Now, if you needed a reference, this is technically not impaling something either," Perenelle said.
Harry looked at the rather large boar that Perenelle had stabbed with the very large hunting spear she had brought along. It was a very long weapon, six feet in length, with a full foot of those six feet in just the leaf-shaped blade. Cross wings beneath the spearhead fanned out on either side and the rest of the spear was heavy timber with a solid core. The large boar had charged at Perenelle who had dodged the charge and stabbed the boar in the side and drove the spear deep and then dispatched the animal swiftly.
"Good to know," Harry said with an awed look.
Hagrid had shot another boar with his usual crossbow, driving a very large and heavy bolt through the animal. He reloaded it carefully and whistled appreciatively at the skewed boar. "Is that Goblin steel?"
"Sure is. A French clan made it for me oh, two centuries or so ago, maybe three." She grunted and yanked the spear out and cleaned the head with an oiled rag after rubbing it with snow. "Nothing quite as good as Goblin steel for blades."
"My main huntin' knife is Goblin made," Hagrid agreed.
When Perenelle had heard Hagrid was doing a jaunt through the Forest to deal with some boars that were tearing up some Hogsmeade gardens and that Harry was accompanying him, she tagged along. Hagrid had been cautious at first, but when he saw her flourish her spear, he had relented easily. When Harry asked if Perenelle always carried her boar spear around, Perenelle had said, "Well yes, it has little use sitting at home doing nothing but sitting pretty. Besides, it is always good to go about prepared and I have never regretted not having her when I need her."
"Her?"
"Indeed! Her name is Aiguille. That is French for Needle. She helps me get my point across."
"And into things, apparently," Hagrid said appreciatively.
"And you, my big fellow, you should have a proper boar spear as well. Your arm span and strength can certainly handle one."
"Hmm, now there's a thought," Hagrid hummed.
The trio dragged the boars back to Hagrid's hut and she had fallen in with butchering the boars too. She and Hagrid got along famously, trading stories of Hunting and exploring as well as tips on what they were doing with Harry soaking up all the information eagerly.
They had a roast outdoors with several roaring fires keeping the chill away and the professors and a few guests from the village ate and laughed under the falling snow.
-0-
"Phew, look at all this," Nicolas said with awe. The table was laden with sandwiches and sweets and all sorts of things. The table was set up in the corner of the kitchens and Harry was bringing things over, laying them out. Another table was set up with cutlery and things beside it. "And you made all of this?"
"Pretty much with Inky and Ebbers helping," Harry said proudly. "Or me helping them rather on some things. Since our tea is going to have more people this year, we made a lot more and are having it here where it's nice."
Nicolas looked over to the other side of the kitchen where the House Elves had gathered around their own Christmas tea, chattering away happily. "A fine place to have it," he agreed. "And who is this charming person?"
"This is Hedwig, she's my owl and best friend," Harry said, looking up at Hedwig perched on his head. She hooted smugly and fluffed up, wiggling comfortably on Harry's head.
"Oh good, I was about to ask if you had an owl." Nicholas reached into his pocket and removed a thin gold band. He murmured a few words, tapping it with his wand before giving it to Harry. "There. If you ever need to send me or Perenelle a message, put this on Hedwig's leg and she can bypass our wards and find us directly."
"Oh thanks!" Harry smiled and when Hedwig put out her leg, he slid it on and it shrank to fit snugly. Hedwig admired the golden band and hooted happily. "She loves accessories. I've gotten her ribbons and bells."
"An owl after my own heart," Perenelle smiled.
The Flamels, Harry, McGonagall, Remus, Flitwick, Dumbledore, and Sprout sat together to enjoy the Christmas tea along with Hedwig and Fawkes. They ate leisurely together, enjoying the occasion fully.
"Severus did not wish to join us?" Perenelle asked, eyes sparkling.
"Not really," Dumbledore chuckled. "Though he did say thank you for the tray you made him, Harry. That was kind of you."
"You made him a tray without telling me? Opportunity lost," Nicolas sighed.
"I told him to make it without your aid," McGonagall said dryly.
"Ah well, still time while I am here, I suppose," he chuckled.
"I must say, I do adore English tea," Perenelle said as she munched on a cucumber sandwich. "Such delightful food that's so very adorable."
"Truly," Nicolas agreed. "There is only one thing that can make this better. Some French tea."
"Oh, what kind of tea is that?" Harry asked, intrigued.
"One made from grapes," Nicolas said, removing a few bottles from inside his robes.
"That's wine," Flitwick laughed.
"Tea, wine, same thing," Nicolas said airily. "Tell me Harry, do you prefer red or white?"
"Harry is underaged," McGonagall said sharply.
"You are? I thought you were eighteen or something similar," Nicolas said with false surprise. "Again, with your wiry English stature, I cannot guess your age."
"I'm thirteen now," Harry grinned.
"Oh then at that age, I think you would like a white. Something crisp and slightly sweet," Nicolas said, looking at the bottles.
"He cannot drink because he is underaged," McGonagall repeated severely.
"Are you going to tell on him?" Nicolas asked sardonically. "I thought I recall you saying something about the Scots letting their young grow on scotch or some such to prove how tough they are and to help inure themselves to this barren wasteland."
He winked at Harry, ignoring a rapidly inflating McGonagall. "Have I ever told you about my theory that the Scottish use the word 'loch' so much because they are locked into living here?"
"I don't think I'd ever feel comfortable or confident enough to mess with Professor McGonagall like that," Harry said in an awed tone when she started lambasting Nicolas who eagerly gave as good as he got.
"They are old friends," Perenelle chuckled. "Because he is very old. He loves to antagonize her because she never holds back and she feels the same really." She took a bite of a new sandwich. "Mmm! You made a sandwich with sauce gribiche?"
"We call it egg salad," Harry said. "It's a sauce in France?"
"Oh yes. It is a bit looser than this and more tart with caper. We eat it with boiled meats."
"Oh wow, here it's eaten on its own. Usually like a sandwich and you can mix it with chopped celery or pickles but I prefer to add those to the sandwich and not into the mix. I like the texture better without."
Perenelle continued to ask him questions and share her own thoughts as they ate happily with Nicolas and McGonagall verbally sparring and Flitwick and Dumbledore watching on with great amusement.
-0-
Harry woke slowly, feeling warm and comfortable. It had been an incredible holiday so far, and each day had been a delight, somehow better than the last. He yawned and patted his stomach over the covers, frowning when he did not feel a bump. He blinked and felt the end of his glasses being poked into his cheek. "Oh, thanks Hedwig," he yawned, taking his glasses from her and putting them on. He blinked again when his vision cleared, seeing Hedwig standing there looking at him. "What's up?"
Bonk!
He gaped at her. "Did…did you just hit me with a pillow?!"
Hedwig nodded and flapped up again, thwapping him with the pillow she held in her talons.
He smiled. "Did the Browns teach you about pillow fighting?"
She nodded again and thwapped him again. She fled, hooting happily as Harry chased her around with his own pillow. He managed a few hits before he was the one fleeing with her thwapping him repeatedly over the head with unerring accuracy, barking with glee and superiority. It ended how these fights invariably did, with her roosting on his head in victory, hooting lovingly.
"We're going to have to get Lavender when she gets back," Harry smiled, bringing her down to hug her.
Hedwig hooted in agreement, eyes gleaming brightly.
-0-
"Joyeux Noel!" the Flamels said warmly.
"Happy Christmas!" Harry replied, happy in tone and expression, enjoying their embraces again. "What's this?" he gasped as they handed him two wrapped packages.
"Christmas presents of course," Nicolas said. "Surely you did not think we would not give you any?"
"I certainly wasn't expecting it," he said. "I didn't get you two anything-"
"We showed up as a surprise and your company and your cooking has been wonderful gifts to us," Perenelle said firmly. "We have had a very lovely holiday with you, do not think you need to give us anything."
"You have gifted us with memories," Nicolas said. "And to us, those are quite precious. It has been a while since we had such fun during the holidays."
"I'm glad," Harry said sincerely.
"Now! Go on and open them," Nicolas said excitedly.
Harry opened the first one, unwrapping it eagerly. He smiled at the large wooden box and slowly slid the lid off. "Oh that's so many books!"
"Those are books by Marie-Antoine Careme and Georges Auguste Escoffier and Paul Bocuse. They are the ones that made France into the culinary capital that it is today," Nicolas said, delighted by Harry's excitement. "Careme was not a magical but Escoffier was and Bocuse's family has both magical and mundane. We thought you would like their books on cooking and this will help you appreciate them more." He opened the top of the box and there was a set of clear lenses. "You pop those on top of your current spectacles and written French will appear to be written English."
"Thank you so much! I learned the charm from Professor Flitwick but this will be so nice," Harry gushed. He put the lenses on and they snapped onto his glasses. He smiled when he opened one of the books and found that he could read it easily.
"I made those myself," Nicolas preened. "We also included a book on learning French for you too, just in case. Some things can be lost in translation after all."
"This is from me and a friend," Perenelle smiled when Harry opened the second.
"Wow…" Harry breathed when he opened the slim box and pulled out a pair of gloves. They felt like soft leather but the outer material was hard and shiny with a scaled pattern. "A friend?"
"Those are scales from Blinky," Perenelle explained. "She molted and her scales were very pliable but still retained their legendary toughness and beauty. I asked if I may use them for you and she insisted. She likes the idea you have gloves made of her scales. They will protect you from fairly anything in potion making and will be useful otherwise."
"Thank you so much, for everything," Harry said, beyond happy. "These are incredible. I can't thank you enough."
"You do," Nicolas said warmly. "Think nothing of it."
Harry packed everything away carefully. "I can cook all day for us and make enough for you to take home tomorrow though!"
"Oh well if you are offering, we will not say no," Perenelle laughed.
-0-
"And how is our slithery friend?" Nicolas asked.
The Flamels had left Hogwarts and returned to their home in France. While glad to be out of the freezing weather, they felt a little subdued on returning.
"She is good," Perenelle said. "Happily eating the treats that Harry sent along for her. She was very happy to hear that Harry loves the gloves. She will let us know when she is reading to molt once more."
"Good good. I have always wanted such easy access to basilisk materials. Having them from a happy basilisk is even better, and making things for Harry with some of them is no hardship."
"I am glad we went to see him," Perenelle said. "He is wonderful to be around and he was so happy. He deserves to be happy."
"I will have to exercise a bit more the next few weeks," Nicolas said, patting his stomach, "but I am not complaining. I am glad we went as well. And with all we did with Albus and what we have started with the ICW, things are on track."
"We are going to have to spend more time with him and prepare him for the International," Perenelle said with mock weariness.
"And whoever they decide to join him," Nicolas chuckled. "Not to mention supporting him next year at the Tournament."
"It has been a while since we have looked forward to things, has it not?" Perenelle smiled.
"Oh yes. Things are going to be so exciting," Nicolas smiled in return.
-0-0-0-
SolarSolstice - Thank you. I wanted Narcissa to be more than just someone that goes along with Lucius. It always made sense to me that she had her own plans, her own contingencies. And in my attempt to make this other idea of mine work, I wanted Lucius to be a bit more competent in a different way. And while Draco always bought into the Pureblood ideal, he lacks what Narcissa and Lucius have: experience. And intelligence, but mostly experience. I wasn't going for col for the Parkinsons per se, but still something formal.
poka - He did get a very large wake-up call. With how much he idealizes and idolizes his father, to hear him say that must have shook him, especially if you remember his possible boggart. Glad the food scenes aren't getting boring, that would be bad for this fic.
Kaya - I wanted her family to be another type of Pureblood: formal but loving.
odonnellzoo99 - They weren't buying what he was selling. As I said before, he lacks something that they don't while sharing their same viewpoint, and that is the major difference between them, and why he has failed so far.
alix33 - Terry did join the club. Draco wasn't going to join, neither was Theo. Seamus and Harry still have issues, same as Hannah. Daphne still has potential to.
DarkRavie - Thank you.
- Thank you.