I do not own Harry Potter nor World of Darkness

Flamel Residence, Paris, 30th April (Thursday)

Edwin Davis looked at the rest of his team. He was the youngest by two years and had only been in First Strike team Theta 3 for two months and had yet to prove himself. He gripped his AR-18, feeling the sweat of his fingers and the beating thumbs of his heartbeat in his chest. He looked at his commander, the man who had been assigned as his partner for this operation. Andrew Jackson was a gruff man, with more scars than he cared to count. He had survived a mauling from a Garou, walking away with a missing eye and wounds that, despite Pentex's best efforts, never healed properly. With practiced experience, the man gestured at their assigned commander for this operation, a thin and frail-looking woman that, despite her appearance, seemed to radiate an aura of power unlike Edwin had ever seen before.

"Heat scan positive. Two. Upper floor. Miss Persephone, are we clear to engage?"

The woman nodded, a vicious smirk appearing on her face.

"This is commander Jackson. Deploy gas mask."

Edwin followed the instruction, lowering the gas mask and taking a few deep breaths, making sure it was working properly. He looked at his team leader placing a breach charge on the front door. He felt the familiar sound of static that always preceded a communication from the other squad members scattered around the house.

"Team Charlie speaking. Gas deployed. Charges ready."

"Team Alpha speaking. Charges ready."

"Team Delta speaking. Charges ready."

"Team Bravo speaking. Charges ready."

"Breaching in 3… 2… 1…"

The wooden door exploded inwards, immediately followed by the pair running into the house, guns at the ready ready. After a few seconds, he could hear a muffled voice coming from upstairs and the ceiling exploded. He raised his weapon, barely dodging the corpses of team Alpha falling through. He instinctively raised his rifle, pointing at the old man in bed robes holding a stick. As he pulled the trigger he saw a hail of bullets from team Delta hitting the man. He screamed in pain and disappeared with a crack.

"Primary target spotted. Confirmed multiple hits."

A few shots rang in the upper floor of the house.

"Secondary target terminated."

An explosion of green light covered the entirety of the upper floor, disappearing as fast as it came. He swiftly looked at the screen on his wrist. Team Delta was offline.

Edwin felt a crack behind him and turned around, jumping out of the way of a green lightning beam as he opened fire on that damned old man. His bullets stopped mid-air, as if impacting an invisible barrier. Without releasing the trigger, Edwin's other hand moved to the grenade launcher under his barrel and pulled the trigger.

The grenade stopped mid air for a fraction of a second, only to explode, smashing the invisible barrier. The old man and Edwin were propelled backwards. A purple lightning struck commander Jackson, as the man exploded in a shower of gore and viscera. Edwin felt something smashing through his leg, but this wasn't the time for him to think. It was time to shoot. He raised his rifle once again and shot the man until his magazine was empty. He took a deep breath, his mind leaving the haze of blood and violence. There were no more sounds, only an old man covered in bullet wounds leaning against the kitchen sink. He… he did it. He killed the target.

"Target down."

He tried to get back on his feet, but realized his left leg was no longer moving. The adrenaline was wearing off and he was starting to feel the pain. He screamed. He didn't even notice the woman walking past him, glancing down at him with a knowing smile.

"Well done, soldier. Now, sleep."

As the rookie fell into unconsciousness, Persephone looked at the man, his old, decrepit body wracked with both age and bullet wounds. She smiled.

"Nicholas Flamel. Is that the name you go by nowadays? How… gauche, my dear."

She walked towards him.

"I have to admit, I am surprised. We all thought your kind went extinct a long time ago. What was it, Nicholas? Too scared to follow the lead of your liege?"

She laughed.

"You followed Tremere through all his steps toward immortality, all the way safe for the last one. You made your own Philosopher's Stone, knowing full well that one day it would stop working and yet… you persisted on this foolish path… Was the Embrace one step too far for you, Tremere? Too good to join the rest of your house?"

She spat on the floor.

"Look at yourself now, mage. You were a warrior, back then. The last Mage of house Tremere. You were a legend. And now you're… this."

She pointed around.

"Is this supposed to be your chantry? Your sanctum? Where are your tomes of ancient lore, the grimoires with countless spells? You gave away your arcane knowledge for what? For this!? A stupid, tiny house in the middle of Kine suburbs? Have you truly fallen this low, Nicholas!?"

The old mage groaned in pain, blood dripping from his mouth.

"Is there… a point… to all this… moronic babbling… lick?"

Persephone glared at the man with hatred.

"A point? You have wasted centuries hiding like a coward! You tossed away everything you had… and for what? I want answers!"

A gurgling noise came out of Nicholas' throat in a wet imitation of a chuckle.

"You licks… will never get it. I have ensured… the survival… of my bloodline… of my house… for eternity. They are… protected… away… from the likes… of you."

Persephone hissed in frustration.

"Don't you dare use empty platitudes toward me! I know the price you paid to prolong your life! I know the secret of your precious stone, Tremere! You have no bloodline! You sacrificed it for what? Spending a couple of centuries playing the role of a retired kine? I don't believe you. I know there's more to this."

"The hardest… choice… requires… the strongest will. I protected… more mages… than you… could ever… imagine. Their sacrifice… was necessary… for the Greater Good. House Tremere lives on…"

"You're deluding yourself!"

"No… I'm… not… I just pray… Albus… will understand… what I did… and why I did it… our Realm… needed…my work. We need… a guardian… I know… Gellert… would have been… perfect."

Persephone hissed in frustration. She hated when people talked in riddles.

"I will… save you a spot… on the way… down… lick."

Nicholas clenched his fist, as a wave of magic engulfed Persephone.

She fell down on her knees, her innard twisting around as they were forcefully ejected from her mouth. She felt her Vitae burning, all her stored reserves desperately trying to stave off the damage caused by the Mage. She coughed, her body trembling in pain as she tentatively got back on her feet.

"That… much… isn't enough to kill me, you insolent cur!"

She took another step forward, fury burning in her eyes, only to notice the man was no longer alive. She howled with rage, charging at the corpse, crushing his head with a single punch.

After a few seconds, she calmed herself, snorting in disgust. This was supposed to be a glorious battle where she finally ended the last Tremere, not the start of a fucking investigation on whatever this old fuck was trying to tell himself during his last seconds. But she needed to know more. She was lucky enough that Zettler had decided to share some secrets about the stone, even if her sire was more likely to give away hundreds of liters of Vitae before revealing a single arcane secret, especially if that particular secret was something he pilfered from a Tremere chantry. It was frustrating, but she knew damn well that he would never let this go until he had all the answers he wanted and then some. She'll have to get to the bottom of this by herself. Luckily, Nicholas had given her somewhere to start.

"Albus and Gellert…"

Library, Hogwarts, 2nd May 1992 (Saturday)

Ron's bitten hand had swollen to twice its size. They didn't know whether Professor Pomfrey would recognize a dragon bite, but by the afternoon the cut had turned a nasty shade of green and Hermione was adamant it had to be some kind of poison. When they visited him at the end of the day, Ron was in a horrid state and looked like he lost all of his blood.

"It's bad. - he whispered, unable to speak any louder. - Malfoy told Professor Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books. He kept threatening to tell her what really bit me… I've told her it was a dog, but I don't think she believes me. The book he took…It had Charlie's letter inside!"

Theo cursed, walking back and forth.

"Malfoy must have seen us in the library yesterday."

"And now we gotta take it back." muttered Daphne.

Theo's muttering attracted the attention of Professor Pomfrey.

"Ok, everyone. It's time to go. C'mon, move along, Mr. Weasley needs to sleep. Off you go."

She said, unceremoniously showing the five out of the hospital.

"It's too late to change the plan now. - declared Harry. - We'll have to risk it. We have the invisibility cloak, Malfoy doesn't know about that."

Theo nodded. "Harry and I have to sneak Norbert to the Astronomy tower, but… someone will have to get Charlie's letter from Malfoy's room."

Daphne smiled. "It's a good thing girls can enter the boy's dormitory then."

"And the fact that Malfoy's roommates are two idiots. I bet we can sneak some sleeping potions in their food and they won't even notice." added Sally, conspiratorially.

The boys nodded in approval. "Good idea. See you tomorrow then."

Harry and Theo rushed to their room, grabbing Harry's cloak before heading to the hut, where they were greeted by Fang, Hagrid's dog, sitting outside with a bandaged tail. They banged on the door, only to hear Hagrid's muffled response through the door.

"Canìt let yeh in - puffed Hagrid - Norbert's at a tricky stage… nothin' I can't handle. Aargh! T's all right, he only got my boot… jus' playin'... he's only a baby, after all."

The two ignored Hagrid's comment and slid into the hut, where Hagrid was attempting to feed some kind of blue sludge that looked suspiciously like a burned sleeping potion, to a thrashing dragon. Norbert slammed its tail on the wall, making the windows rattle. They would have felt sorry for Hagrid if they hadn't been so worried about what they had to do, especially if the sleeping potion didn't work. Much to their relief, once Hagrid had finally managed to make Norbert swallow three spoonfuls of the substance, the dragon finally calmed down and fell asleep.

It was a very dark, cloudy night, and they were running a bit late because they'd had to wait for Peeves to get out of their way in the entrance hall, where he'd been playing tennis against the wall. Hagrid had packed Norbert in a large crate, filling it with 'lots o' rats an' some brandy an' his teddy bear in case he gets lonely.' Hagrid was sobbing when Harry and Theo covered the crate with the invisibility cloak and left the hut for their night-time delivery.

How they managed to get the crate back up to the castle without anyone noticing Norbert was something the two boys would wonder for the rest of their lives. Midnight ticked nearer as they heaved the cage up the moving staircase in the entrance hall and along the dark corridors, and Theo really came to regret not accepting Harry's offer to come with him and train together.

"Nearly there!" Declared Harry as they reached the corridor beneath the tallest tower. Then, a sudden movement ahead of them made Theo almost drop the crate, which was saved from rolling to the side of the stairs and towards the floor seven floors below them.

They two shrank into the shadows, trying their best to squeeze themselves under Harry's invisibility cloak together with the crate, and staring at the dark outlines of two people grappling with each other ten not feet away from them. Professor McGonagall, in a tartan bathrobe and a hair net, had Malfoy by the ear.

"Detention! - she shouted. - And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how dare you."

"You don't understand, Professor. Potter's coming… he's got a dragon!"

"What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Come on… I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy!"

The steep spiral staircase up to the top of the tower seemed the easiest thing in the world after that. Not until they'd stepped out into the cold night air did they throw off the cloak, glad to be able to breathe properly again. About ten minutes later, four broomsticks came swooping down out of the darkness.

Charlie's friends were a cheery lot. After overcoming the surprise of seeing two Slytherin instead of Ronald, they showed Harry and Theo the harness they'd rigged up so they could suspend Norbert between them.

They buckled Norbert, shook hands with Harry and Theo and at last, Norbert was gone.

They slipped back down the spiral staircase, down the moving staircase, in the dungeon, into the Slytherin common room where they took off the invisibility cloak before finally stepping into their room. As they stepped in, Snape's face loomed suddenly out of the darkness. The Professor didn't need to say anything, his glare alone demanding an explanation.

"We… went to the bathroom?" offered Theo.

Library, Hogwarts, 25th May 1992 (Monday)

Theo and Harry had landed themselves in detention. As Professor Snape had no way to prove they didn't just go to the bathroom, they only had to spend a single day, opposed to the two weeks that Malfoy had gotten from Professor McGonagall.

The day after the incident, Sally had proudly offered Ron his book back, claiming to have burned the letter, even if Harry was almost certain that one of the girls had kept it somewhere, just in the event they might need blackmail material in the future.

A few days later, they had been shocked to read news about Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel's death. A witch hunt, claimed the Daily Prophet, and without official statements, that rumor quickly became the accepted truth.

Headmaster Dumbledore had offered a small speech, praising the man that had once been his Alchemy teacher and friend, and decided to establish a one thousand Galleon award dedicated to the alchemist for seventh year students that graduated with O on their Alchemy N.E.W.T.

After carrying Norbert, Theo had joined Harry with his morning exercises on the weekend, and even with his exercises being about ten times easier than Harry's, it still took him way longer to finish them. Somehow, Harry had the feeling Theo wouldn't continue training with him for very long. Harry, Theo, Sally, Ron and Hermione had decided that, without knowledge about the various traps the Professors had placed, they had no chance of reaching the Philosopher's Stone and, between the upcoming exams and the lack of hints to investigate, the question had been pushed to the back of everyone's mind.

Or at least, that would have been the case, had Sally not overheard Quirrel sobbing in the DADA classroom begging not to be forced to do 'it' again.

"He's obviously been blackmailed." declared Hermione.

"That much was obvious, Granger." drily pointed out Theo.

"Ignore him. He's still mad you scored better on your Charms essay."

"She went over the page limit! She should have lost points for that!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "If we can go back on topic… what should we do about it?"

"Should we do something about it? I mean… if they're blackmailing a professor…" pointed out Daphne.

"Yeah, but it's the Philosopher's Stone! It's part of my family legacy!"

"Sally, two months ago you didn't even know you were related to the Flamels. And besides, they're not your ancestors or anything…"

"They adopted one of my ancestors!"

"I say we follow Quirrel. If he can take down the defenses, maybe we can just… wait until he clears all of them and… take the stone when he leaves?"

"And what if he takes the stone at night?"

"Well, if you have a better plan I'd like to hear it!"

Without a better plan in motion, they decided to take turns observing Professor Quirrel outside of class. Once they figured out his routine, which wasn't particularly hard since the man rarely left his classroom apart from breakfast, lunch and dinner, they discovered that they were, in all likelihood, wasting their time.

It seemed like if they wanted any useful information, they would have to break curfew again.

Manhattan Valley, New York, 26th May 1992 (Tuesday)

Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald. Puzzling together the two names hadn't been particularly difficult, but connecting them with Flamel was another story. Sure, Albus Dumbledore had worked with Flamel in the past. Something about dragon's blood, which she was sure her sire would find particularly interesting, but there seemed to be nothing about the Tremere having a good relationship with Grindelwald. Quite the opposite, in fact: the alchemist had, apparently, joined the fight against Grindelwald in 1927. She hadn't bought the lie, obviously. The history books were written by the victors and over his long lifespan and many autobiographies, Nicholas Flamel née Tremere had always been on the side of the winners. His aid had always been marginal, his connection tenuous, but they had always been there, like a cancerous growth on wizarding history. She smirked, thinking how the man would have made for a perfect Ventrue.

Speaking of which, that was another thing that really threw a wrench in all of her theories. Why had the man refused the Embrace? After sending away the First Strike team, she had sent in her own group of specialists, in collaboration with the French police, and they had found some perfectly preserved Vitae. Not enough for experimentation, but more than enough for the Mage to essentially Embrace himself. Why not take it? For the loss of magic? But he lived among Kine. His house was of modern design and, from her team's scans, showed absolutely no trace of magic. Nicholas must have gone years without casting a single spell.

So many questions left unanswered…

"You seem distracted, childer of mine."

The cutting voice of Harold Zettler snapped her out of her musings.

"It was nothing. Just trying to puzzle together the facts."

Sir Harold laughed. "Oh, don't worry, Persephone. I didn't pick you because you were smart. You'll puzzle everything together, just give it a millennia or so."

Persephone frowned, grinding her teeth, but didn't rise up to the bait. The bastard had sent her specifically for her talent in investigations. He basically groomed her for that role, to be smart. To be inquisitive. And to take out her target.

"What now?"

"Now nothing."

She blinked.

"What?"

"Now we do nothing. Nicholas Tremere is dead, therefore your task is concluded. You can go home."

"But his relationship with Dumbledore? What about…"

"Your task is concluded. You can go home."

She nodded.

"I'll be going then."

Sir Zettler smiled. Poor, poor Persephone. She was a useful tool, one he was glad to have created, but she was far too easy to read. And without him constantly feeding her morsels of information, she was destined to stay in that same track for quite a long time. A pity. Perhaps she would best serve if she were to be moved to a similar role in the Sabbat?

Shaking his head, he looked at the report once more. If this Dumbledore had worked with Nicholas in the past, he needed to approach him with care. He needed to secure his position in wizarding society as an irreplaceable, distinct gentleman, gaining immunity from any possible political backlash Dumbledore could unleash towards him, assuming he was even aware of Nicholas's work. All hints were pointing towards the headmaster being groomed to take up Nicholas' role, but the two weren't nearly as close as they could have been. How much had the alchemist revealed to Dumbledore?

But first, he needed to make sure Harry never came into contact with the stone. The stone was more than capable of breaking the boy's blood bond and simultaneously removing his addiction to Vitae. And that was NOT allowed to happen.

Notes

Big secrets! Conspiracies! Manipulations! Ancient lore hidden behind a facade of mundane... but isn't that what WoD is all about?

Bit of a longer chapter, but I wanted to publish this whole thing as a single block

What do you think of my version of Nicholas Flamel? It's a pretty heavy deviation from his canon depiction in Fantastic beasts, but I don't really like his portrayal in that movie anyway, so...

I did mention there was a missing piece regarding some theories and well... here's your hint! Considering how accurate the theories have been so far (I love you guys!) I'd be shocked if you don't piece it together

Edwin is back! And don't worry, the Davis brothers will appear again in the future. I have plans for them.

Feels kinda weird to have Albus Dumbledore being the one groomed and manipulated into a position... but hey! Novelty! Even if it's only a side plot (at least for now...)

Next chapter will most likely be the end of book 1, which I have to admit was by far the most difficult section to write (and I'm re-writing the third task of the Triwizard tournament!), so... please be kind if it's a bit dull or doesn't quite reach the mark. I am the first to admit it, but not all chapters can be gems.

Answering PM/Reviews

Thank you for the clarification! And... yeah, I can see why you said it. Personally, I like sharp dialogue, but I might have overdone it a bit. I have a tendency to skimp on the descriptions for scenes that are basically identical to canon while keeping the overwhelming majority of the dialogue... I'll try to either cut more of the dialogue or to increase a bit of the fluff around not to make it as sharp as before.

Harry becoming a vampire... maybe. If I want to kill Voldy, Harry has to die and coming back as a vampire is certainly a possibility... but I honestly haven't planned past Order of the Phoenix, so it's still up in the air. If you want to know wether Harry will learn more Disciplines... the answer is yes, but nowhere near as many as you might think and most certainly not in the next few chapters. While his situation will give him a couple of interesting Thaumaturgy paths, he's first and foremost a wizard.