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"Flal… he's Galier. I can feel it…"
Perenelle clutched Darren, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"He is Galier. He must be the reincarnation of Galier… He's called Darren now, but—"
More than six hundred years ago, Perenelle had a little uncle—Galier.
He raised her as though she were his own daughter, and she loved him like a father.
But while she was engrossed in her experints, Galier was drawn into a Muggle war.
He died while shielding others, struck by arrows until he looked like a hedgehog.
He had believed such wounds were trivial for a wizard.
He had been wrong.
The mont Perenelle saw his body, she completely unraveled.
Unable to accept that her gentle uncle—her father figure—was gone, she plunged into obsession.
She devoted herself entirely to undoing death.
The Philosopher's Stone itself began as a desperate idea to bring Galier back.
But it could only grant immortality—not resurrection.
Perenelle collapsed under the truth.
Only the child she later carried allowed her to survive the grief.
Centuries passed. Nicolas Flal had believed she had long since made peace with Galier's death.
But now she held Darren and whispered Galier's na as though he had truly returned.
"Nicolas… he is Galier," she insisted through tears.
"I know it."
"Perenelle, this is unfair to Darren," Nicolas said as he gently pulled her aside, glancing at the Auror healing Darren's wound.
"He isn't the reincarnation of anyone. He's himself. And think—you want him to be our heir. How would it look if you started calling him Galier? What would people think?"
But Perenelle ignored him entirely.
"I know what I'm saying," she insisted. "I'm certain—absolutely certain—Darren is Galier reborn. Even if he doesn't rember now, I can raise him again. You can treat him as the heir, and I— I will treat him as Galier. If you don't want him as heir, then consider him my uncle. Your choice."
"My… your uncle?!"
Nicolas almost choked.
He was over six hundred years old—there was no universe in which he would call a young boy "uncle."
He dragged Perenelle further aside and tried every rational argunt he could think of.
But she refused to listen.
All she cared about was having her little uncle back.
Just when Nicolas feared he truly might end up with a six-hundred-year-old uncle, a desperate idea slipped out:
"Fine—call him your little uncle if you want. But do you realize how it'll look? People will joke that a boy is being called 'uncle' by two ancient wizards. They'll think he's manipulating us. They'll think he's plotting sothing! And after he risked his life to save you—do you want gossip to crush him? Make him bla himself again?"
Perenelle froze.
Seeing her hesitate, Nicolas pressed on quickly:
"And even if—if—he were Galier reborn, he doesn't know that now. You don't want him feeling like a substitute, do you? You don't want to force your uncle's identity on him. He saved you, Perenelle. Darren saved you. Not Galier."
At last, he said quietly, "Please. At least don't treat him as soone else. Not in front of him."
Perenelle opened her mouth slowly, eyes softening.
"You're right… reincarnation ans a new life," she murmured.
"My wish was always to be Galier's mother in the next life… and now I can. Darren and Galier are different, I understand that. I was just too happy. But now that my Galier Darren is back, I'm going to care for him properly. I'll watch him grow up, marry, have children… I finally waited…"
She began excitedly imagining the future.
Nicolas stared at her.
This was… not what he ant.
Not even remotely.
But at least she wasn't demanding Darren call her his mother or forcing Nicolas to call him uncle.
That was already a victory.
Honestly, he just wanted Darren as an heir.
Perenelle originally wanted him to pass on knowledge and then die alongside her—not adopt anyone new.
But now that she'd accepted Darren emotionally, maybe she'd choose to live longer.
Nicolas didn't want to rush toward the end yet.
Not after eting Darren.
He wanted to teach the boy—see how far he could go—maybe even watch their heir raise children of his own.
He was just over six hundred.
The older he got, the more he longed for family.
The true Flal children of the past had all had their ambitions. He'd sent them out early, told them to live on their own.
None had ever stirred this feeling in him.
Only Darren had.
He turned and looked at the boy.
The more he looked, the more he liked him.
Of course, it would be nicer if Perenelle didn't insist he was her reincarnated uncle.
Watching Perenelle gently wipe the blood from Darren's face, Nicolas clicked his tongue silently.
Ah, so he really is being treated like a son.
Even he had never received such fussing.
He grumbled internally—
—but then Darren smiled shyly up at Perenelle, obedient and gentle.
Nicolas pressed his lips together.
She literally tried to make you her little uncle just monts ago!
And you smile like that?!
He was supposed to be the boy's teacher!
—
The Ministry of Magic quickly ruled the street explosion as justified self-defense.
Anyone else would have been detained and fined for excessive retaliation.
But Nicolas Flal was too famous.
Even the Ministry hesitated to offend him.
Once they confird he hadn't intended to blow up half a street, they personally escorted Nicolas and Perenelle away with apologies.
Still, for safety, they advised them to return to France at once.
If anything happened to Nicolas Flal on British soil, the entire Ministry would be held responsible.
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