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Nicolas Flal's thoughts shocked Perenelle so much that she covered her mouth in disbelief.
"Oh my goodness… how could you even think sothing like that? You do rember we're both over six hundred years old, don't you?!" she exclaid.
"...…I'm not asking you to give birth, Perenelle," Nicolas said quickly, waving his hands. "I was thinking of adopting an heir.
What do you think of this idea—
What if we adopted the second child of the Potters? The younger twin of Harry Potter. Darren Potter."
He leaned closer, eyes shining with a sudden, almost youthful enthusiasm.
"Wouldn't it be wonderful to raise a child again?"
Perenelle stared at him as if he had grown antlers.
He hurried on.
"You love children. You always have. The little ones in our family—back then—you always tried to take them ho with us." He sighed. "But every single one of them… their minds were already impure. Even as children, they coveted the Philosopher's Stone.
I wanted to keep it to use for ourselves, naturally. I had no intention of giving it away. But they were our descendants, so I was willing to pass on the thod of its creation."
His expression darkened.
"But none of them learned it. And worse—they suspected I was lying to them. That what I gave them was fake."
He exhaled heavily.
"That disappointnt… that betrayal… it was too much. So I closed the manor. No more visitors, no more apprentices, no more family prying at our door."
Perenelle nodded somberly. She rembered that era—how angry he had been.
"By the ti I was willing to see people again—maybe thirty, forty years later—our family had vanished," Nicolas continued quietly. "The Flals had run out of money, wandered, scattered, suffered… and the last of them died because he trusted the wrong friend."
He clenched his fist.
"I avenged him. But from then on… life beca dull. Gray. I was only three or four hundred years old, and already I regretted living so long."
Perenelle reached over and squeezed his hand.
"You had only left to care for," she whispered. "And only you for ."
"Yes." Nicolas nodded. "When you wanted to stop using the Stone, I still wished to go on. And you stayed with . But when the Stone finally lost its effect… I thought of creating sothing else to prolong life."
Perenelle's eyes widened. "You never told that."
"I didn't." He smiled weakly. "Because the mont I saw how relieved you were to let go… I stopped."
They sat in silence for a mont, mories passing between them.
"Then Dumbledore asked for the Stone. And we let it go," Nicolas said softly. "I thought I was done with ambition. Until…"
He looked at Perenelle, almost embarrassed.
"Until I heard him tell Dumbledore that he dislikes immortality. That living forever isn't appealing to him at all."
Perenelle blinked in surprise. "A child said that?"
"Yes. Darren Potter." Nicolas nodded vigorously. "And that… made curious. Competitive, even. I wanted to see if he was lying. How could anyone dislike immortality?"
He shook his head.
"So I looked into his spiritual world."
Perenelle gasped.
"You WHAT?! Nicolas Flal! Are you insane?! Do you know how dangerous that is?!"
"Believe ," he said dryly, "I realized that rather quickly."
He described everything—the pristine spiritual world, impossibly pure for any wizard. Clean skies, fragrant air, bright sunlight, a taphorical bridge representing courage and sacrifice.
A mind with no malice. No corruption. No darkness.
Even rlin wouldn't match such a spiritual landscape.
Perenelle was speechless.
"And then," Nicolas continued, "I saw Darren himself. In a nightgown, smiling gently. As he walked, the entire world beca brighter."
Perenelle silently clutched at her heart, overwheld just hearing it.
"I felt ashad. And confused. And then he asked why I looked unhappy—told to share, because he didn't know anyway. Such pure kindness." Nicolas chuckled. "So I shared my doubts about immortality."
"And what did he say?" Perenelle whispered.
"He said: 'If you want to live forever, then live forever. If you don't, then don't. Life and death are part of the cycle of the world.'"
Perenelle stared.
"That simple, and yet… so profound." Nicolas closed his eyes. "It shook ."
He continued describing the encounter—how Death itself appeared, how Darren pushed him off the bridge to save him, how shockingly touched he felt when Darren defended him:
"What kind of coward attacks an old man? Co at instead!"
Perenelle's breath caught.
"And when I asked him why he saved … he said—"
Nicolas swallowed.
"He said: 'You remind of my grandfather.'"
A soft silence filled the room.
Perenelle finally whispered, "…Nicolas… did you fall in love with him?"
"No!" Nicolas yelped. "No, no! Not like that! I just—"
He exhaled deeply.
"I just realized what I've been missing. Family. A child. Soone to pass on our life's work to. Soone who won't be corrupted. Soone who… might genuinely love us in return."
Perenelle looked at him for a long mont.
Then she asked, slowly:
"Darren Potter… the child who dislikes immortality?"
"Yes," Nicolas said hopefully.
She took a deep breath.
"You won't forget, will you? We're going to die together. I do NOT want to live forever again."
"I know," Nicolas said quickly. "I'm not asking to prolong our lives. We stop using the Stone. We grow old naturally. But we still have years left. Why not fill them with joy?
Even without immortality, we could raise an heir. Darren is kind, pure-hearted, an orphan, and he isn't even the Potter family's main heir. If Dumbledore leads the proposal and the portraits agree, we add 'Flal' to his na—he doesn't even need to give up 'Potter.'
We pass him everything we learned. All our books. All our discoveries. And if he can't learn alchemy—he can preserve everything until he finds soone who can.
And Perenelle…" Nicolas smiled gently. "You would be so happy taking care of a child again."
Perenelle looked torn, but her heart was softening.
"A… a truly kind child…" she murmured. "For the last years of our lives…"
Nicolas nodded eagerly.
Finally—finally—Perenelle sighed and shoved his shoulder.
"Well? What are you waiting for? Write to Dumbledore! Ask him to consult the Potter portraits and make sure the boy himself is willing!"
Nicolas practically leapt for his parchnt. He scribbled an excited, ssy letter, enchanted it, and sent it straight to Dumbledore's desk.
"It's not enough," Nicolas said imdiately. "We also need to et Darren ourselves. First, to see if he truly suits us. Second, to let him get comfortable with us.
We should read books—on how to get children to like you! Maybe create the perfect welcoming environnt!"
Perenelle rolled her eyes, though she couldn't stop smiling.
"Honestly… you're acting like you've been hit with an Imperius Curse."
---
Hogwarts — Headmaster's Office
Dumbledore stared at Flal's letter in stunned silence.
"…Nicolas wants to adopt Darren?"
He rubbed his temples.
Just a month ago, Nicolas had loudly declared children were "mischievous, noisy gremlins" and that he couldn't stand them.
Now the sa man was praising children as "the purest beings in the world."
Dumbledore narrowed his eyes.
"…Has Nicolas Flal been hit with the Imperius Curse?"
He blinked at the parchnt.
"…No, really. Has he?"
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