I do not own Harry Potter, the Wizarding World, or any canon characters.
A Taste of Magic
78th Course – Fell Omen
"Do I have to wear this?" Dora asked, picking at the edges of her dress robes.
"You do not have to be here," Andromeda said softly.
"I want to though, it's a family thing, right?" Dora asked.
"Technically," Sirius said, adjusting his formal robes.
"Then I want to be here. I don't trust her," Dora said flatly.
Andromeda smiled faintly. "You do not think Sirius or I can handle ourselves?"
"I know you can handle yourself, and anyone's arse to them," Dora said without hesitation. "But if she's associated with that Quirrell prick, then I don't trust her and want to be here." Her hair was soft pink but short and spiky and she made sure her wand was secured in her forearm holster.
Andromeda hugged her. "Thank you, love."
At the chime of the clock, the Floo flared into life. "Punctual as always," Sirius snorted softly. He looked impassively at the figure that stepped out of the flames. "Narcissa, hello."
"Lord Black," Narcissa replied. She wore formal dress robes as well and she deftly vanished the soot and ash with a flick of her wand. She froze a little, seeing Andromeda. "Sister," she said, her voice not as cool or undisturbed.
"Sister," Andromeda replied, sounding brittle.
Narcissa's eyes narrowed when she saw Dora leaning against Andromeda's chair. "I was not aware others would be at this meeting."
"Nymphadora is part of the Blacks," Sirius said and Dora barely twitched at the use of her full name.
"Then perhaps I should fetch Draco," Narcissa said, raising her nose.
"He is not a part of the Blacks," Sirius said, his voice stern.
"He is my son," Narcissa said, her voice heated.
"I am aware," Sirius said even more sternly. "But until I recognize him as one, he is not one. I still remember what his father had said to me."
Narcissa huffed. "I think we are getting off to a poor start for our first meeting in many years."
"Probably. Sit, eat, drink," Sirius said, waving at the couch and the table. He sat too and sipped some tea and bit into a tea sandwich, waiting for Narcissa to do the same. Andromeda followed suit and then Dora did as well when Andromeda poked her surreptitiously. After Narcissa took a sip and a nibble, he visibly relaxed, leaning back in his chair and pulling on his collar. "There, niceties are done with and you are a guest so you have some protections."
Narcissa also seemed to relax ever so slightly. "Still not fond of protocol?"
"Hey, I did the formal greeting and made sure you got the guest rites," Sirius said. He drank deeply from his tea cup. "So, you look well."
"As do you," Narcissa said. She ate more of her cucumber sandwich. "I was pleased to hear of your innocence and that you received the justice due to you." She gulped a little when she looked at Andromeda. "You look…well."
Andromeda nodded, saying nothing.
"And you must be my niece," Narcissa said, looking at Dora and her eyes flicked to Dora's hair.
"What gave you that idea?" Dora asked, making her hair neon pink but similar in style to Narcissa's, sweeping up into a tight bun. She smiled cheekily at Narcissa's frown.
"Okay, we can trade barbs for ages while pretending to sound polite but if we're doing that, I want to be really drunk and it's a little early in the day for it so let's just cut to it," Sirius said, interrupting Narcissa. "What do you want?"
"I was hoping for your support for Sanguis Verus," Narcissa said calmly.
"You don't think I'd actually do that, do you?" Sirius snorted.
"Why not? It is an Academy that will have the best education as well as providing the best opportunities," Narcissa said.
"Mmhmm," Sirius hummed. "And for who, exactly?"
"The students attending of course," Narcissa said.
"Right right. All those Pureblood students and only Pureblood students," Sirius said sarcastically.
"Not all are. Any can apply," Narcissa said frostily.
"But not all will be accepted," Andromeda said.
"Of course not. Standards must be upheld," Narcissa said. She frowned at Dora's snort. "The Blacks were paragons of the Pureblood ideal for generations. Toujours pur after all."
Sirius made a retching noise. "Yeah no, not with me in charge. I always hated that." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Look, I'm a big fan of education. I wasn't a bookworm but I know how important it is. And the more schools the better. I personally think competition isn't a bad thing. But the way you and your husband and this Quirrell guy did it, that's underhanded sneakiness. And it screwed over Hogwarts to boot. And I love Hogwarts so yeah, not a fan of your place."
"The Academy will be a bastion of education. The standards of Hogwarts have fallen," Narcissa said, firmly believing what she said. "We must ensure our future."
"Keep telling yourself that," Sirius said. "Inclusion isn't invasion, it's sustaining life. Keep everything so confined and that's how you get stagnation."
"I suppose we must agree to disagree then," Narcissa said coolly. "Then I cannot count on your support?"
"Sorry, not right now, if ever," Sirius said just as coolly. "Besides, there's another reason why it wouldn't work. Harry's my godson and last I heard, your son has a bit of a tiff with him and I wouldn't ever torture Harry like that. He's had a hard life as it is."
"Their 'tiff' as you call it was mutually created and continued," Narcissa said hotly.
"Bullshite," Dora said plainly, enjoying the look of shock on Narcissa's face. "Harry's the kindest and sweetest. He goes out of his way to help and be nice. So if he isn't nice to you, there's a good reason."
"Draco is your cousin!"
"Yeah, I know how that works," Dora snarled back.
"Harry Potter has done more harm to Draco," Narcissa said angrily. "He has taken his friends!"
"Or did they leave willingly?" Andromeda said, just as angrily. "I have met them and they show no remorse for being Harry's friend. Can one take that is willingly taken? Perhaps you are too blind to see the faults of your son!"
Narcissa rose to her feet. "And you show too much familial loyalty to one you are not even related to!"
Andromeda jumped to her feet. "I consider Harry to be family! Closer than ones I actually share blood with!" She glared at her sister who was taken aback at the outburst. Dora slid behind Andromeda and fingered her wand handle, eyes boring holes into Narcissa.
"Let's all calm down," Sirius said, enjoying Narcissa's discomfort. "And trust me, it's weird for me to be the one saying it." He waited for them to sit once more. "But yeah, don't say a word about Harry, not in front of me, not under my roof. Not in his home. He is my godson and I consider him to be of my blood too. Do you understand?"
Narcissa flinched at the sheer strength in Sirius' words. "I do and retract my comment. It was poorly given."
"Accepted," Sirius said quietly.
Narcissa regained her calm, eating and drinking quietly as she did. "This is very good," she said at last.
"Harry made it all, before he left for work," Sirius said. He smirked at Narcissa's surprise. "We told him we were meeting today and he woke up early to make everything for us. Said he wanted us to have a nice tea."
"Oh, that was kind of him," Narcissa said quietly.
"Kreacher, could you bring more please," Sirius called out.
"Kreacher is still alive?" Narcissa looked astonished when Kreacher appeared bearing a tray. "Hello Kreacher."
"Miss Narcissa." Kreacher bowed creakily. "It is good to see you once more."
Narcissa looked even more surprised at the reply but she nodded warmly enough. She accepted more sandwiches and things as well as more tea. "I did have another question."
"Go on," Sirius said thickly through his own sandwich.
Narcissa smiled thinly. "Do you happen to have Regulus' locket?"
"Locket? Reg never had a locket," Sirius said, frowning. He saw Kreacher flinch heavily, standing behind Narcissa. Sirius flicked his eyes at the house elf and Kreacher left swiftly. "What locket are you talking about?" he asked Narcissa.
"It was one that belonged to Lucius," Narcissa said. "It was given as a gift and Lucius was hoping to have it back as a memento."
"You're not fooling me," Sirius growled. "They hated each other. The only reason Reg never killed Lucy is because you married him."
Narcissa colored slightly. "You were not around for a long time Sirius, you have no idea how their relationship improved," she said shortly.
Sirius sat back, seething slightly. "Fair but no, I don't know what you're talking about." He looked at Andromeda who shook her head.
"Very well, I will inform Lucius." She finished her cup of tea and the food on her plate. "Thank you for meeting with me." Her icy exterior thawed slightly and she looked at Sirius and Andromeda with an uncharacteristically unguarded expression. "I…I would like to do this again, some time."
"Might be able to make it work," Sirius said. "It was good to see you, Cissa."
She smiled sadly. "Thank you, Siri." She rose to leave and stopped when she saw a thin metal plate over the hearth. "You have a connection to Gringotts?!"
"Nope," Sirius smiled. "That's Harry's. He uses it to go to work." He looked proud while Narcissa stared with shock.
"I see," she said, dazed. She shook her head and looked at Andromeda. "Thank you for coming, Andi."
"Thank you for asking, Cissa," Andromeda said softly. She watched Narcissa leave with a very complicated expression. She jolted slightly when Dora hugged her but hugged her back readily, relishing the contact and the warmth.
"That was weird," Sirius groaned.
"It could have gone much more poorly," Andromeda said quietly.
"True," Sirius said. "Oh, before I forget, Kreacher." Sirius waited for Kreacher to reappear. "Do you know anything about a locket that belonged to Reg?"
"Kreacher…might," Kreacher said, looking away and fidgeting.
"Kreacher, what do you know about Reg's locket?" Sirius asked, his voice cold and commanding.
"Master Regulus entrusted the locket to Kreacher," Kreacher said, shaking. Tears built in his eyes, surprising the other three. "It did not belong to the Malfoys! Master Regulus summoned Kreacher to a bad place and made Kreacher leave with the locket! He made Kreacher swear to destroy it but Kreacher could not!" He began to sob brokenly.
"What on earth?!" Andromeda gasped.
"Bring me the locket," Sirius commanded, his voice thick and heavy. When Kreacher returned with it, he took it from him. It looked old, glowing with a fey and unnatural light. "I've never seen this before. It feels weird."
"Let me see it." Andromeda took it and waved her wand over it. "There are so many enchantments in it, heavily modified ones. I cannot even begin to identify them. It feels very wrong." She put it on the table and flexed her fingers, staring at it.
"Who was Regulus?" Dora asked, looking between Sirius and Andromeda.
"He was my brother," Sirius said sadly. "My little brother. He died during the war."
"What happened?" Dora asked softly.
"We never really knew. He was a Death Eater," Sirius said quietly, to Dora's shock. "There was a rumor that Voldemort killed him personally." He rubbed his eyes. "Never made sense to me. Reg was a good kid. Bit of a snot but we all were. But…"
"Why would Lucius say this locket belonged to him?" Dora asked, frowning. "Was he a Death Eater too?"
"Never formally convicted of being one," Andromeda said heavily. "His defense was that he was under the Imperius. He did share information towards the end that seemed to show that he turned a new leaf."
"Hey, this reminds me of something. I had a weird moment with that Quirrell guy during the end of the Third Task when we were called in to help," Dora said.
"What do you mean by that?" Sirius asked.
"I found him standing over Harry and made him back off and part of that was me turning into someone scary." Dora's hair became long and midnight black and her eyes a bright startling blue.
Andromeda snorted. "Me? You find me scary?"
"Terrifying," Dora and Sirius said together.
"I love you both too," Andromeda smiled.
"But when I did, Quirrell called me Bella," Dora said. She blinked when Andromeda and Sirius looked at her with obvious shock. "Why would he call me that?"
"My sister," Andromeda gasped. "Bellatrix. We do look somewhat similar."
"She was a Death Eater too," Sirius said, looking disturbed.
"Was Quirrell one and was never caught?" Dora asked. "He wouldn't have been old enough back then, would he?"
"No. He wouldn't, at least unless he was recruited as a literal kid which is its own disturbing thing," Sirius said. "Fuck. What the hell is going on?" He picked up the locket. "I'm taking this to Dumbledore and telling him what we know. Out of anyone around, he'd probably know what's the best thing to do. I'm also going to shore up our defenses and be a little more careful."
He looked down at Kreacher who was weeping silently. "Good job," he said roughly. "We'll handle it Kreacher. If Narcissa calls for you or anyone that isn't one of us or Harry, ignore them. Do you understand?"
Kreacher bowed low, not a trace of reluctance or venom in his movements, before he popped away.
"Good idea," Andromeda said. "We will have to be very careful with Narcissa, since she is closely aligned with Quirrell." She sighed sadly. "The Blacks can never do anything simply, can we?"
"Nope," Sirius laughed hollowly.
-0-
Dumbledore stared at the locket on his desk. His thoughts were a riot of noise and confusion and he was slowly willing them into coherence. He had been disturbed to hear everything from Sirius and he agreed that the locket felt much more than any locket should. It resisted cursory examination and he ruminated over what Sirius told him. The details were connecting in his mind and he did not like the picture they were creating.
He removed a piece of slate from his bookcase and laid the locket upon it. He murmured softly, tapping the slate with his wand and runes lit as he incanted. He frowned as he looked down at the runes, at how the locket seemed to shiver under the magical investigation. His frown deepened as the results of the array were next to nothing. When he reached out to touch the locket once more, he felt a sudden flash of intense magical energy and emotion, making him flinch back.
Disturbed, he cast another spell over the slate and locket and pushed it to one side. He sat there for a long time, staring at the locket before he took up his quill and wrote a brief message on a scrap of parchment. Opening a small vase on his desk, he put the parchment within and put the lid back on, tapping it with his wand. He sat and waited.
His hearth burst into life, a crackling fire appearing from nothing. Nicolas' head appeared in the flames. "Albus? What is it?"
"I need your help," Dumbledore said seriously. "Yours and Perenelle's."
Nicolas' jocularity slid cleanly off his face and he nodded. "Be right over." His head disappeared and after a few moments, the fire roared once more and he and Perenelle came stepping through. He waved his wand, clearing them of soot and ash, and strode over. "Well?"
Perenelle walked to the slate after Dumbledore pointed. She reached out and touched it before frowning deeply. "This is a horcrux," she said, looking down at it. "Why do you have a horcrux and who does it belong to?"
"You are certain?" Dumbledore asked, feeling vindicated and sick in equal measure.
"Yes," she said with utter certainty. "You had it tested with the usual array?" She looked at the slate. "Spell shielded, I can feel the power and the protections." She grimaced. "It feels ugly and awful." She put it back down and cleansed her hands with a solution from a vial she pulled from her robes. "It is vile, one of the worst I have ever encountered."
Dumbledore closed his eyes. "That is how he did it," he murmured.
"Who?" Nicolas asked.
Dumbledore opened his eyes and looked every bit of his many years. "Voldemort," he said. "Or as I knew him from before, Tom Riddle."
"Voldemort, the one responsible for the war here?" Nicolas asked, frowning.
"Yes," Dumbledore said heavily. "I knew him from before he became Voldemort. He was a student here, one that I visited first actually. He was Tom Riddle, completely unaware of his magical heritage but he had already begun…exploring his abilities."
"I do not like the sound of that," Perenelle said.
"You would not like the substance of it either," Dumbledore sighed. "He was intelligent, learned so very swiftly and completely. Quite talented but he was hungry. Hungry for power and recognition." He shook his head sadly. "He always wanted more and was willing to do anything for it. Diving deeper into the Dark Arts and the like."
"A tale as old as time," Nicolas said softly. "We have seen it many times before."
"In one of our last engagements, he told me that he had found a way to defy death," Dumbledore said, looking back into his past. "That he would not, could not, die."
"Factually erroneous," Nicolas snorted. "He sounds arrogant. And I should know."
"I thought he died though, his body anyways," Perenelle said. "His death ended the war, yes?"
"For the most part," Dumbledore said. "But if this horcrux is Voldemort's, then he has survived."
"And you are sure it is his?" Nicolas asked.
Dumbledore recounted what he knew and suspected. "Yes, I believe so. Given that this locket seems like it was taken without his permission or knowledge even, by one who followed him before, I do believe so. Also, I think his spirit is also fairly close. Quirrell has shown some very strange changes in behavior since his time here as a professor. He has also said things that I find suspicious. He called Andromeda's daughter by a name of one of Voldemort's followers, Andromeda's sister. Also, his appearance has changed drastically and it is startling similar to Voldemort's at the time of his death. Not only that, he let slip that he was aware of two basilisks during the Chamber incident. So either he knew of Blinky through you two moving her-"
"Impossible," Nicolas said.
"Then he must have had prior knowledge somehow," Dumbledore continued. "Not only that, if seems like all the troubles we have had the last few years are connected. The trolls appeared when you were here with the stone, the basilisk set loose and it attacked his prize students, one of which became a champion of the Tournament when they were not invited. The chaos during the end of the Tournament. His biggest political supporter insisted on Dementors and multiple incursions of said Dementors onto the grounds, endangering the students. So much done to undermine the safety of the school and the image of the school."
He released a deep breath. "Also, one of the Gringotts goblins made a very odd statement, saying Quirrell smelled rotten and kept referring to him as what. I thought that was an insult back then, but perhaps it is more than that. And Quirrell said something along the lines of 'slipping his minds'. Another thing I found quite strange."
"It does sound damning when you describe it that way," Perenelle said uneasily.
"So Quirrell might be possessed by Voldemort," Nicolas said. "Change in appearance, knowledge he should not have, makes sense. And it would lend credence to the idea that Voldemort made a horcrux. A body cannot house more than one soul. It would be torn apart. A whole soul and fragments of another however, well, it is possible. Distasteful and a crime against God, nature, and magic, but possible."
"Wait." Perenelle looked up. "How did Voldemort die the first time?"
"We do not know for sure," Dumbledore said. "I assumed it was a final act of sacrifice done by Lily, in protecting her son."
"Lily, Harry's mother?" Perenelle asked, her tone going quiet and cold.
"Yes," Dumbledore said sadly. "It is why Harry has the unfortunate moniker, 'The Boy-Who-Lived'. Voldemort attacked his home and murdered his parents before trying to kill Harry." He wiped a tear away. "Harry can remember the act when he is near a Dementor or a lethifold."
"You are telling me that the thing that is responsible for Harry's pain still exists?" Nicolas asked quietly.
"It seems so. I had hoped Voldemort had died completely, but always thought otherwise," Dumbledore said quietly.
"Well, it is simple then," Perenelle said. She rose to her feet and her eyes burned. "Nicolas and I will hunt this Quirrell down and kill him and destroy the horcrux."
"You cannot do that!" Dumbledore cried.
"The hell we cannot! We can and will and do so gladly!" Nicolas said back, looking equally as angry.
"You would be breaking so many laws, first of all," Dumbledore said heatedly.
"When has that ever stopped me?! Do I need to show you my card again?" Nicolas snorted. "We will not be caught and France will never extradite us even if we are blamed for it!"
"Second of all, you know you cannot act so boldly," Dumbledore continued. "It would violate your oaths-"
"Do not tell me what my oaths are!" Nicolas thundered. "I know what they are! I made them! Me! I know the price I would pay and in this case I would do it without a second thought!" He pointed a finger at Dumbledore. "You cannot give me a single reason to not act on this! You want me to sit idly by without a chance to help one of the few people I genuinely love and care about in this whole damn world? Someone who has reminded me of what this world has to offer? What can you possibly tell me that would stay my hand?!"
Dumbledore stared the Flamels in the eye. "There is a prophecy."
"Fuck," Perenelle spat. She sat down moodily. "I hate prophecies."
"They are very annoying," Nicolas sighed, sitting down too. "Well? What does this one say?"
Dumbledore sat back, feeling relieved. "The gist of it is that Voldemort would go after the child that was born in the seventh month to ones who had defied him thrice. Neither can live while the other survives and one must die at the hand of the other. That the Dark Lord would mark him as his equal."
"I fucking hate prophecies," Perenelle growled. "How maddeningly obtuse."
"So we capture him and have Harry accidentally push him off somewhere very high and have him fall into something very corrosive," Nicolas said. "Easy enough. Hell, we can have Harry ask Blinky to bite him. Blinky absolutely would do it too, without question."
"If it comes to that, I would welcome it," Dumbledore said.
"So what is stopping you?" Nicolas asked.
"Because of how everything is interconnected. I know you do not care for local laws and how you are perceived-" Dumbledore said.
"-understatement," Nicolas and Perenelle muttered.
"-but we have to consider that here," Dumbledore continued, unperturbed. "We must account for what is going on here and I must do right by Harry. I swore to him I would."
"Killing the one that killed his parents is not what you would consider 'doing right by him'?" Perenelle asked sardonically.
"It will not end with just killing Voldemort," Dumbledore said quietly. "Not all of it. You two know that the laws of magic are equal parts nebulous and finite. Things have to be done correctly and we must consider everything. If Quirrell, or Voldemort, or both at this point, suddenly vanishes and cannot be found and is rumored that he was killed, then hell would break loose once more and everything would follow it to hell. We have barely rebuilt anything since the war, this might break it all."
"You all could move to France," Nicolas said mildly.
"We could," Dumbledore snorted. "But that is not the point and you know it. It is easy to kill. It is hard to live."
"I hope you are not going to offer this Voldemort a second chance," Nicolas said with disbelief.
"No. I offered him many chances before," Dumbledore said very quietly. "He would not accept it, not sincerely."
Perenelle looked at Dumbledore closely. "Albus," she said, choosing her words carefully. "This situation is not the same as the other. No, listen to me," she said when he looked at her with a furious expression. "I know you. I count you as a close friend. I was there when you grappled with the consequences of something somewhat similar before. I did not lie to you then, I will not lie to you now."
Her eyes met his, both old and full of life experiences. "Tom Riddle is not Gellert Grindlewald."
"I am aware of that," Dumbledore said in a very carefully measured tone.
"Good, I am glad you are," she said without heat.
Silence filled the room.
"What are your plans?" Nicolas asked at last.
Dumbledore sighed, sinking into his chair. "I need to ascertain if Quirrell is being possessed or not, and to ensure that it truly is Voldemort. And I must offer Quirrell a chance. Yes I know, but it will be to Quirrell, not Voldemort. There is a slim chance that he is an unwilling victim in this."
"Fair enough," Nicolas said and Perenelle nodded in agreement.
"If not, then I will try to draw Voldemort out and end it, one way or another," Dumbledore said with finality. "And protect Harry and his friends and family." He rubbed his eyes. "He might be very cautious now, especially if he sent Narcissa out and has learned that the locket, his horcrux, is missing."
"He will dig in and be like an armored turtle," Nicolas mused. "How would you draw him out?"
"I have no idea," Dumbledore said. "I will have to figure something out."
"We will assist however we can," Perenelle said. "For Harry."
"For Harry," Nicolas said.
"For Harry," Dumbledore agreed.
They sat in silence for a long time.
"Are you hungry?" Dumbledore asked.
"I suppose, why?" Nicolas asked, confused.
"Harry is at the Hog's Head," Dumbledore said. "We can go for dinner."
"Let us go," Perenelle said. "I can sate my stomach and my heart at the same time."
-0-
"Oh hey," Aberforth said, looking surprised to see the Flamels. "What're you two doing here?"
"We were in the neighborhood as it were," Nicolas said. "Decided to stop by and have a drink and some food and company. Where's our boy?"
"In the kitchen, where else?" Aberforth snorted. "Hey, Kid! You got company."
"Hi!" Harry peered out the window and smiled to see Dumbledore and the Flamels. He came out, wiping his hands clean on a towel. "It's so good to see you-oof!" He coughed when Perenelle hugged him incredibly tightly, crushing the air out of his lungs. "Are you okay?" he gasped, patting her back.
"Oh, I just wanted to shower you in a little extra affection," Perenelle said, eyes a little wet. "You do not mind, do you?"
"Of course not," Harry said, hugging her back as hard as he could. "I'm always really happy to see you and grandfather."
Nicolas' head whipped around and he strode towards a man sitting at the far end of the bar. He grabbed him and hauled him off the stool. "I beg your pardon," Nicolas hissed. "Care to repeat that?"
"What?! I didn't say anything! Let me go!" Wilkins squawked.
"I may be old but my hearing is sharp," Nicolas said, glaring at a wilting Wilkins. "I heard you make disparaging comments about my wife and my grandson. I honestly do not see how their affection had an effect on you but since you deem it a problem, you are now my problem."
"I was only just saying-" Wilkins coughed as Nicolas' tightened his grip on his collar.
"I heard you the first time," Nicolas said coldly. "Now, I do pity you. I am in a tremendously bad mood and desperately wish to find an outlet for my displeasure and you have the misfortune of drawing my attention. Out of respect for the proprietor of this establishment, I will give you a chance to apologize. Otherwise I will inflict grievous bodily harm and pain that you have never comprehended before and then I will stake your worthless corpse somewhere very public to be a very obvious example. Choose wisely."
"Aberforth! Tell him to let me go!" Wilkins squealed.
"I always said you run your mouth too much," Aberforth grunted. "I'm not telling Nick anything. Well, actually, whatever you want to do, do it outside please. Don't wanna clean up the mess."
"I'm sorry!" Wilkins screeched.
With one last burning look, Nicolas dropped Wilkins and the man fled from the bar. Nicolas looked around at the silent room full of shocked watchers. "Anyone else have a comment to make?" he asked pleasantly.
Bennets shook his head. "Nope. We like the Kid. No trouble here." A chorus of no's and headshakes supported the statement.
"Splendid! Abe, everyone's tabs are on me. To apologize for the interruption." He smiled genially as a few happy noises and cheers were made and heard. "I also think I cost you a permanent customer."
"It doesn't bother me at all," Abe snorted.
"Are you okay?" Harry asked Nicolas, looking concerned.
"Oh yes. Forgive me. I was…vexed," Nicolas said. His brittle smile turned genuine when Harry hugged him. "But I feel better already. Thank you, my boy."
"We wanted to see you and are a bit peckish," Dumbledore smiled.
"Three specials coming up then," Harry said and went to the kitchen hurriedly.
The door to the inn opened and Ariana walked in. "Wilkins just ran past me scared witless and I didn't do it and I'm sad about it. What happened?"
"I vented a bit on him, unfairly," Nicolas said.
"I bet it was fair," Ariana snorted as she walked behind the bar. "He's a prick." She looked at her brothers and the Flamels. "Is everything okay?"
"No, but things will be," Perenelle said softly.
"Yes, they will," Nicolas said.
-0-0-0-
Arnie11701 - It'll be very different. I have plans for it.
DOOOOOOM Lord of Waffles - It's nice being back at Gringotts and Hog's Head again. They're different locations with their own charm and fun to write in. Gives touching butts a new meaning hehe.
poka - The website has been really strange lately. It hasn't recorded views in weeks and I'm getting a lot of people messaging and reviewing saying I messed up chapters or chapters are missing when it seems right on my end. Hopefully it gets fixed soon.
Last chapter was nice to write. It was back to familiar territory but with a slightly different Harry. Older, more experienced, and grown in age and character a bit. Plus it's always nice to see familiar faces again. I'm trying to work hard on believable character growth and hope that I continue to hit a good pace.
Roxasstorm - Thank you. I'm a bit behind on writing right now, but I think this summer will be fun and the year itself will be interesting. Have something planned for next summer that will be big.
Doombreed - Thank you. I'm glad you enjoy it so and am happy to give you something different.
alix33 - The House Elves are very cheeky to Aberforth, much to his chagrin.
Hands Off MY Wolfie - Willing guniea pigs too. It's nice to be wanted. Thanks for reading.
DarkRavie - Thank you so much.
dawnsfire - I adore Townsends and Tasting History. I am a huge fan of Sorted though they aren't historical per se though they've done videos of cooking from very old cookbooks.