Luna Lovegood was excited. She had been practically since she knew the Hogwarts Express was back and even more so since she got a letter from her friend Harry Potter. Harry’s beautiful owl had arrived with a letter for her probably while Harry was still on the train. He said he was going to write her and while she accepted that he meant it, she was certain he would forget. But he didn’t. It wasn’t much of a letter. It merely told her he was still planning to come to her house on Monday - today - to find out what her strange letter meant about the French Word thing they had both been experiencing. But he added they were not the only ones for his best friend Hermione had experienced the same thing so he asked if he could bring her too as he thought it might all be connected in a way. But Harry was a gentleman, Luna thought. He let her decide whether Hermione could come. As it was another chance for a friend, Luna was not about to say no so she told Harry it was fine.
And now she had her friend coming over and his friend who might become her friend. She could not remember being this excited about anything in a long time, not even when her Daddy had taken her on expeditions to find Crumple Horned Snorkacks. She didn’t know why having friends over was more exciting than that, but it was. She had spent the entire day after getting Harry’s letter making sure her room was clean and inviting and she got up early to finish all the preparations. She made sure her bookcases were all in order, even if they were not looked at and she made her bed and arranged her plushies just so and then got dressed. She was wearing her favorite yellow sundress without knickers. She really didn’t like wearing knickers at all and only wore them when “convention” required but as her sundress reached to her mid calf she figured there was little chance of Harry or any odd creatures seeing that at all so no knickers.
She made sure that odd letter was out so that they could find out what it had to say when Harry arrived and then Luna waited. Harry said he would be there at ten. He promised. Luna believed him. And yet it was almost ten and he wasn’t there yet. She didn’t know how he was going to get there or even if he could find her house, but he had promised. She watched the clock and it seemed to barely move. It always amazed her that time did not seem to be a constant. If she was having fun or enjoying herself, it seemed that time went by way too fast. But if she was waiting, it seemed that time slowed down just to spite her. She had a book in front of her. It was one of the many left to her by her mother when she died and Luna hoped it might help explain this French Word thing that had happened. So far it had not, but Luna still hoped she would find some reference to the magic as she was sure this French Word thing was some kind of magic. She lost track of the time and at 10:15 there was a flash of light that caused her to look up. Standing before her bed was Harry and a girl Luna knew was Hermione Granger and an older woman who looked a lot like Hermione and a House Elf.
Luna was practically bouncing on her bed when she saw Harry. “You came!” she exclaimed. “You promised and you came! Oh I do hope we’re friends!”
“I told you we’re friends, Luna,” Harry said.
Luna all but flew off of her bed and threw herself at Harry hugging him and thanking him for keeping his promise to her. She then kissed him on the lips. She was not trying to be his girlfriend. She wouldn’t mind if she was but the kiss was not for that reason. She was just so happy that she was not being ignored or picked on so she couldn’t help it. The kiss felt so wonderful and so perfect, but there was this life of hers passing before her eyes and it was pretty awful, to tell the truth. It was odd she couldn’t remember it later or even as it happened.
Hermione saw the blonde kissing Harry. Harry had told her that Luna had not had a friend in a long, long time so the fact that she was “thanking” Harry for being a friend was not surprising in and of itself even if the means was or should have been. But for some reason, Hermione seemed to expect this kiss at some point. If she had had more experience with relationships of the nature she had with Harry, she might have expected to be upset and would have been surprised that she was not. She was not jealous of Luna nor did she feel threatened in any way. Harry was her boyfriend and she was certain that this would not change ever, even if Harry was becoming Luna’s boyfriend as well. Oddly, Hermione found that thought rather pleasing and expected. She felt happy for Luna.
Rose Granger saw something very different and wonderful. As soon as Luna and Harry’s lips met, they seemed to literally glow. A golden light soon enveloped them and then spread outward to envelop her daughter as well. She looked at Hermione who was now glowing as well and saw what Rose thought was an expression of bliss on her face as if she were part of the kiss as well. Rose knew this was some kind of magic and it seemed wonderful in a way, but she wondered what this meant for her daughter. She knew that Hermione considered herself Harry’s girlfriend and wondered what this meant. It would crush her daughter to be cast aside but for some reason Rose did not think this would happen. Deep down Rose felt that this Luna was now a part of Harry’s life as well and it only meant that Hermione was a part of this too.
“Well,” Luna almost sighed, “the kiss was quite nice but I sure could have done without that life passing before my eyes thing, especially ‘cause I can’t remember any of it.”
“It happened to you too?” Hermione asked in surprise.
“And me,” Harry said, “again! Why does everything weird happen to me?”
“So, you two had the Life Flashy things when you kiss as well?” Luna asked.
They nodded. “But only the first kiss,” Hermione said. “Hasn’t happened since at least not to me.”
“Well, maybe it’s ‘cause Harry Potter kissed me for the first time, or I kissed him,” Luna said. “Yes, I suppose I kissed him is more accurate. Perhaps if I kissed you or you kissed me that Life Flashy Thing might happen again since Harry wrote to me and told me you also had the French Word Thing as well.”
“The… the what?”
“Déjà vu,” Harry explained.
“Oh. Yes. Right. I think we can skip the kissing.”
“Yes,” Luna said, “that would probably be best. I really didn’t enjoy the Life Flashy Thing the first time.”
“It wasn’t any better the second,” Harry added. “And kissing a girl would be weird.”
“Why would it be weird?” Luna asked. “After all, you kissed me and you’ve kissed Hermione and we’re girls.”
“Um… I think it’s different when two girls are kissing each other.”
“Why would it be different?” Luna asked. “I am aware that there are certain physical differences between boys and girls, but I’m pretty certain their mouths are substantially similar.”
Harry did not know how to reply. He looked at Hermione who was looking at Luna like the girl had two heads and maybe three.
“Excuse me?” Rose said, “what just happened here?”
“Let’s see,” Luna said. “Harry and I and apparently Hermione have been experiencing some French Word Thing since about the time of Harry’s eleventh birthday until just a couple of weeks ago when something different happened to each of us, I would guess. In my case, I got an odd letter which said the writer could explain that French Word Thing but it couldn’t be done at Hogwarts for some reason - and no that was not explained. The letter also told me that Harry was involved and needed to be here when the writer explains all this so I went and spoke with him about it and he agreed to come visit. Harry sent me a letter a couple of days ago saying that Hermione had also been having the French Word Thing so it only made sense that she be here too, don’t you think? So Harry shows up and… well, I haven’t had a friend in a long time and most people try to trick me or make me look silly or feel sad so I was almost expecting Harry would not keep his promise. But he did so I kissed him and had that Life Flashing Thing happen, which apparently happened before when Harry and Hermione first kissed each other and I was wondering whether kissing made that happen - or more precisely a first kiss and then Harry was trying to explain why he thinks two girls kissing is odd.”
“G-girls kissing?” Rose asked in shock.
“Well, it does make sense in a way. Harry and Hermione had the Life Flashy Thing happen when they first kissed and Harry and I had it happen when we first kiss and as all three of us had the French Word Thing too, I figured it might be possible that the Life Flashy Thing would happen if Hermione and I kissed. After all, I’m pretty certain we’ve never done that before. Still, it might be important to know if the effect is different, don’t you think?”
“That’s not what I meant,” Rose said. “I meant when you kissed Harry there was this odd - it was quite beautiful actually - this golden glow about the two of you at first and then it seemed to spread to include my daughter as well.”
“Really?” Luna asked as the other two looked at each other blankly. “Well, that is different. But I didn’t see it as my eyes were closed at the time.”
“Mine were too,” Harry admitted.
“I - I thought I saw something for a moment, but then I didn’t,” Hermione admitted.
“Well,” Luna said, “it was obviously some kind of magic, but that is obvious isn’t it? I mean anyone would have guessed that - provided they know about magic. I’d think a lot of Muggles wouldn’t have guessed that and probably have said is was a reflection or gas leak or something like that. But saying it’s magic still leads us nowhere for there’s all kinds of magic out there and no one really knows what it is.”
“Don’t be silly,” Hermione said. “Hogwarts has a whole library filled with works on magical theory.”
“Yes, and most of it’s rubbish or of little use,” Luna replied. “You’ll find loads of ‘theory’ that talks about what can and cannot be done but very little on why it can or cannot be done. It just can or cannot. It’s all very observational which isn’t really theory, is it? I mean everyone can see that apples fall from trees but that doesn’t tell you why they fall, does it? You might call it gravity but that doesn’t explain what gravity is only what it does. Have you read anything that theorizes about what magic really is? Arithmancy can tell you what works and what doesn’t, but it doesn’t really tell you why. Is magic a part of nature or separate and distinct? Why are some humans capable of using magic when the vast majority are not? Why is the same true with other life forms? Wouldn’t it make more sense if either all humans were witches or wizards or none of them were? We’re not really a separate species as some Pure-bloods would love us to believe otherwise how can you explain Muggle Borns? Daddy has said there are some who think Muggle Borns steal magic, but if that’s the case why haven’t they stolen it all? There are, after all, far more Muggles than magical people. No. What you will find consistently is that witches and wizards accept magic as a given and do not question it at all. In that way we are far, far behind Muggles as they have been questioning everything for ages and occasionally find answers to those questions. Of course, anyone who asks these kinds of questions in our world are laughed at and called Looney.”
“I’m sure there’s got to be something,” Hermione disagreed. “I always thought it would be at NEWTs when we have learned more of the basics.”
“It’s not,” Luna said. “I’ve been asking these questions since I was five and reading to find the answers since not much older. My mother was a researcher and said that no one had really bothered to write about it, or at least to publish about it if they had. She wanted to one day, but she didn’t write any of it down.”
“I’m sure she’ll get around to it eventually,” Rose said innocently.
A sad look crossed Luna’s face. “Maybe. But what good would it do us here? I’m pretty sure if they publish in Heaven, they don’t sell it down here. My mother died three years ago, you see.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Rose gasped.
“Why?” Luna asked. “It wasn’t your fault she died. Oh. That’s one of those courteous things you’re supposed to say to be polite, isn’t it? Well, I guess I should say thank you. It still makes me sad sometimes, my mother being gone. I’m sure there some things that a mother should be telling her daughter at certain ages and I have missed out on that - although I’ve heard it can be rather embarrassing,” she added with a slight chuckle. “Perhaps like why a girl kissing a girl in front of people is somehow different than a boy kissing a girl. But I do miss our deeper conversations about things such as what is magic and why is it here.
“But, we’re not here to answer those questions, are we? We’re here to see what this letter says about that French Word Thing and maybe find out about that Life Flashy Thing and that glow that you saw, Mrs. Granger. I assume you are Hermione’s mother?”
Rose nodded.
Luna smiled and picked up a piece of parchment. “It doesn’t say much, does it?” she said handing it to Harry who then handed it to the others.
Dear Luna:
By now you have probably noticed something very odd, a persistent sense that everything that has happened has happened before perhaps? This was expected and is not far from the truth. But the truth will have to wait until you return home for the summer and it can’t be told to you alone as there is at least one other who should have noticed the same thing. His name is Harry Potter and I’m sure you at least know of him and can - if you try - speak to him about this. Have him with you when you get home and the two of you touch your wands to the seal below and your questions will be answered.
A friend.
Harry and Luna looked at Hermione who merely shrugged. Harry pulled his wand from his back pocket and Luna seemed to have had hers tucked behind her left ear and they both touched the seal together and… nothing seemed to happen. Both of them sort of expected the letter to change somehow and perhaps Harry did as well.
“Well, that was a little disappointing,” Hermione commented.
They then heard a loud crash from somewhere below them and a male’s voice bellow “Bugger it all! I swear woman, I’ll never get used to these new-fangled portkey thingies!”
“Now you hush, George! It’s not my fault Xeno keeps this place in such a state. LUNA? It’s George and Clara, sweetie.”
“Oh goodie!” Luna exclaimed. She then looked at the others. “It’s Great-grampy George and Great-grammy Clara. They’re my mother’s, mother’s parents. We’re up here in my room,” she called out. “I thought the handwriting seemed familiar,” she said to no one in particular. “They usually aren’t so cryptic, however.”
They could hear the sounds of footsteps on what sounded like metal treads and soon a grey head of hair appeared in a spiral stairwell off to one side. It was followed by the body of an elderly witch and then an elderly wizard who was rubbing his nearly bald head.
“Looks like a bit of a crowd,” the older man said. “We were expecting only two of you.”
“This,” Luna said, “as you know is Harry Potter. This is his girlfriend Hermione Granger - she’s a Muggle Born you know - and her mother… sorry, I didn’t catch your name, Ma'am.”
“Rose,” Rose replied.
“Granger, you say,” the man replied. “Well, that’ll make things a little easier I should say. I go by the name of George Tennyson and this is my wife who goes by the name Clara Tennyson… for now at least.”
“He was really into the works of Alfred Lord Tennyson when we picked those names,” the woman said, “pity he never learned to write a decent poem.”
“I beg to disagree! They may not have been up to his standards, but they were quite good I should think.”
“There’s more to poetry than meter, a clever turn of a phrase or rhyme. They are supposed to make sense.”
“I still believe that ‘a trollop’ and cadswollop is a perfectly acceptable rhyme!”
“But it’s not much of a love poem” Clara snorted. “I see you got my letter, Luna,” she added turning to Luna.
“Picked your names?” Rose asked. “So George and Clara Tennyson are not your real names?”
“Oh, they’re quite real, thank you,” George said. “We’ve even got the paperwork and all to prove it.
“Actually, my maiden name was Parker at the time,” Clara said. “While George here might have wanted to name himself after a dead poet, I had no such false illusions of grandeur. I became ‘Tennyson’ when we married again in 1928.”
“Why did you change your names? Did you immigrate here or was there another reason?” Rose asked.
“Ah,” George said, “yes we did immigrate here once long ago, but they didn’t call it that back then and we did change our names back then as we were from France originally and at the time the English and French were hardly chummy.”
“Not that they’ve ever been chummy,” Clara said, “not within our lifetimes at least.”
“So what were you before?” Hermione asked with a suspicious look on her face.
“Philip and Charlotte Denson,” George replied.
“Although I was actually Charlotte Marston originally,” Clara added.
“That doesn’t sound very French,” Hermione observed.
“Right in one,” George said, “not very French at all. Before that we were Stephen and Elizabeth Browne although the wife here originally went as a Rhys-Thomas for some reason.”
“I thought it had a bit of elegance,” Clara said.
“A little trouble with the law?” Rose asked.
“From time to time,” George said, “but never anything major and certainly nothing that in and of itself required us to assume and alias but alias’s are fun don’t you think? Before that we were what? Ah yes: James and Anne Cuthbert, although Anne here was Anne Howard - no relation to the Howards that were the Dukes of Norfolk and before that it was Thomas and Mary Eldridge or Mary Seymour again no relation to the famous Seymour. Then it was our first English names: Edward and Catherine Standbridge…”
“I picked Catherine after Catherine of Aragon,” Clara said. “I thought she was really nice for a Queen. My surname was Fitzpatrick…”
“Then we were French: Francois and Michelle Armand then Jean and Marie LeMonde - deliberately misspelled that one and finally and first…”
“Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel,” Hermione said.
“Very astute,” George replied.
“There were a few small clues that suggested you are much older than you look,” Hermione replied.
“Who?” Rose asked. “You mean that Alchemist whose invention got you into all kinds of trouble last year?”
“I can assure you Madam that was not our fault,” George said. “Dumbledore did manage to piece together our original identities when we were about thirty-three - this past time. Naturally, we were not terribly inclined to become public spectacles which is what would have happened if our original identities became common knowledge so I agreed to work with him on a few relatively minor projects from time to time on the condition he kept that information mostly to himself. He did, of course, let on he was working with me - Nicholas Flamel that is - but not precisely who I was. Can’t fault him for that, really, annoying as it was at the time.”
“You don’t look like you’re 667,” Hermione commented.
“And what would someone that old really look like?” Clara asked. “And that also assumed that the Philosopher’s Stone as others call it does what they think it does which it doesn’t. Then again, maybe what we came up with is not it at all.”
“But Dumbledore said that with the Stone gone the two of you only had enough Elixir left to get things in order and then you’d die,” Harry said with concern.
George laughed. “Well, at least he told you what we told him. Can’t say he always does that. I can assure you we were less than honest about that. We learned long ago that our invention is very, very impractical so never truly let on it worked in anyway and we certainly did not teach anyone else how to either make or use it. The truth is we could sell our invention at a stall in Diagon Alley for all the good it would do anyone else. You see, the first thing you should know is that it only works for its maker and his or her spouse. That idea that it turns base metals into gold is a load of rubbish. That was an idea proposed over two thousand years ago by early Alchemists who wanted something that could do that but it’s a fundamental rule of magic that you cannot truly change the nature of a thing at the atomic level which is what you would have to do to change let’s say lead into gold. A simple transfiguration can make lead look and feel like gold, but even the Muggles figured out long ago how to detect that bit of chicanery. Likewise true immortality is a pipe dream as far as we’ve been able to determine. The Elixir won’t stop you from being killed or dying a natural death as some might think - otherwise Dumbledore would not have believed we would die.”
“So what does it do?” Hermione asked.
“The Stone as you know is a key component in the Elixir of Life as some clueless Alchemist named it again over two thousand years ago and long before anyone had even a remote clue as to how to make one, what it was and what it could and could not do. It does not grant true immortality. It is basically what you could call a permanent de-aging potion. Take it when your seventy or older and an hour or two later your sixteen, let’s say, and you begin aging again from there.”
“A Fountain of Youth?” Rose asked.
“Do we look sixteen?” Clara laughed. “Yes, you do de-age and when the process is done you wind up at an age between just before the onset of puberty and full magical maturity - which is between the ages of ten and a half and twenty-six for the both of us - depending upon how much of the Elixir you take. That being said, you age at a normal rate from that day forward and I do so love going through puberty again,” Rose added sarcastically.
“I don’t know, it still sounds useful even if it doesn’t do what people think it does,” Rose observed.
“But not very practical,” George replied. “You see aside from ‘The Stone’ a critical component to the Elixir is amniotic fluid and it must be obtained when the woman’s water breaks…”
“What’s that?” Harry asked.
“It’s the fluid that surrounds a baby when a woman is pregnant,” Hermione said, “and he means it has to be collected when the baby’s about to be delivered at the moment the woman’s placenta breaks and the fluid is released.”
“Which would be problematic,” Rose nodded. “It’s not as if you can time that with an egg timer or something. It happens when it happens.”
George and Clara nodded. “And it can’t be just any woman’s amniotic fluid,” George continued. “It must be the fluid from the maker’s daughter, granddaughter or great-granddaughter; daughters being preferable as later generations create a degree of inaccuracy in terms of what age you and your spouse will de-age to. And it will only work for the maker and his or her spouse. Hence, not very practical and most who might find the prospect useful are… well let’s just say they’re not the types that would marry for love - that’s also important apparently - or would prefer daughters to sons. For our purposes, daughters are far more important than sons. Haven’t had a son since our second time through, truth be told.”
“That could be a problem,” Rose nodded.
“It wasn’t so much back in the day where midwives were in common use even in the wizarding world,” Clara said. “I was always qualified as that and my children were apt to ask for me to be there during their confinement. But that practice fell out of favour about two hundred years ago which made things more problematic as I wasn’t about to become a Healer each time through life. It proved easier for us to have a daughter who gave birth out-of-wedlock as we did not have to convince potential in-laws that I needed to be there when the child was born. Fortunately, we only had to do that twice and it was during a time when there were a fair few unwed pregnancies at Hogwarts. The last time - which was 1935 - our daughter was married and we were able to convince her husband that I should be there when the child was born. That child was your mother’s mother, Luna.”
“But how could you use sixty some odd year old amniotic fluid?” Rose asked.
“Stasis Charms,” Hermione answered. “They almost literally freeze something in time, as it were.”
“Very good,” Clara said. “If I were a professor, I’d award you House Points but alas I am not.”
Hermione beamed.
“How many children have you had?” Rose asked.
“Twenty-seven who lived to adulthood,” Clara said. “Four were sons and the rest were daughters. Our first, a son was born in 1346 and our last, a daughter - Luna’s grandmother to be exact was born in 1935.”
“How many descendants? Grandchildren and such?”
“We had sixty-one grandchildren from our nine lives total,” Clara said. “When you start talking great-grandchildren and so on and so forth, naturally the numbers are much greater. To be honest, we only have a vague idea and can only know with any certainty as to any one person if we perform an inheritance test with Gringotts. What we do know it that our descendants from each of our lives are still being born. In the case of our first life as the Flamels, in the last twenty years or so there have been children born who would be our nineteen times great-grandchildren to children who would be our thirty times great-grandchildren, the first of the older generation being born in 1720 and has been dead well over one hundred years and the first of the later generation being born in 1970.”
“Why the differences?” Hermione asked.
“The generation that has been born since 1720 are from oldest children of preceding generations for the preceding generations with the most recent being descended from the youngest of each subsequent generation while the last generation is being born from the youngest child from every subsequent generation back to us. So, as you can see, it could conceivably be quite a large number. If we assume only one and a half children are born per parent who live to have children of their own - and not taking into account any cousins of any degree marrying cousins - there are or will be about 400,000 ‘Flamels’ once the latest generation is born in full and eleven generations are still having children. If we assume two children who live to reproduce, the number is over four billion. Naturally, we are pretty sure the number is far, far closer to 400,000 than four billion; but it’s probably in the millions.”
“You could be related to anybody!” Hermione exclaimed.
“Distantly,” George nodded. “From that line it would be distantly, but you are probably correct. Luna is truly our great-granddaughter as her mother’s mother was one of our most recent daughters. But we are also distant ancestors of a lot of people, including everyone else in this room.”
“What?” everyone but Luna and Clara exclaimed.
“We consider the closet degree of kinship to be where one of our children married a direct ancestor of someone,” Clara said. “We usually don’t spend the time to find out the more distant degrees of kinship such as where our grandchild or great-grandchild married into someone’s direct line, or at least we haven’t for our older lines in a long, long time. That being said, Harry’s fifteen times great-grandfather married our younger daughter Patricia Standbridge in 1552. She was his third wife as he was twice the widower at the time. Hermione’s seventeen times great-grandfather on her father’s side married our younger daughter Suzette Armand in 1590 and her thirteen times great-grandfather on her mother’s side married our younger daughter Agnes Eldridge in 1625.”
“But my husband and I are Muggles!” Rose exclaimed.
“Indeed,” George said. “But if you go back enough generations, you will begin to find witches and wizards in your ancestry, including our descendants.”
“Everyone is related to everyone else if you go back far enough,” Clara said. “With the Flamel line, we’re talking that the most recent generation - assuming no other more recent connections of any kind - they would be thirty-first cousins of each other although we think that distant degree of kinship is not particularly likely.”
“So we’re all related in a way?”
“More so than we’ve let on. Remember, we only chose to include where one of our daughters married one of your great-grandfathers - or in Luna’s case her grandfather - not where a later generation of ours married into your ancestral line and you are their descendant. Now, as to your own truly closest degrees of kinship, that’s different. Harry and Luna are Third Cousins once removed from Harry’s grandmother and Luna’s father’s ancestral lines specifically Harry’s great-great grandfather and Luna’s three times great-grandfather was Lord Phineus Nigellus Black, Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Black. Harry and Hermione are fifth cousins on Harry’s mother’s side and her father’s side and sixth cousins on Harry’s mother’s side and her mother’s side. Luna and Hermione are sixth cousins as well. Luna’s descended from a witch and Hermione from that witch’s squib brother.”
“Squib?” Rose asked.
“It’s a child born to a magical parent who is not magical themselves,” George said.
“Oh.”
“What’s ‘once removed’ mean?” Hermione asked. Harry was surprised that she did not know this but, then again, he had not either.
“In this case, it means that Harry and Luna’s father are Third Cousins and she, as his daughter is one generation removed from that degree of kinship. It can be annoyingly confusing which is why the law simplified things to a large degree. Under British Magical law ‘family’ is anyone who by degree of kinship could possibly inherit from someone if that person died without a will and in that case, family is no further out than the Second Cousin’s of that person or those who share the same Great-grandparents on one side or another. For marriage, it tracks with Muggle law. First Cousins - those who have the same grandparents - are not considered family such that they cannot marry each other.”
“So,” Rose said slowly after a long pause, “the two of you have been skulking around for close to seven hundred years?”
“I wouldn’t use the word skulk,” George said. “We may have done our best to hide the fact that we were born Nicholas Flamel and Perenelle Mont Clair in 1326 and 1330, but we did not hide our current incarnation as it were.”
“So how did you come back? You said the Elixir made you a lot younger,” Hermione asked.
“First time was an experiment,” George said. “I was ninety-two at the time and Perenelle was eighty-eight and I was pretty sure we had figured it out so we took the Elixir and we woke up both aged twenty-six. We had used our Great-granddaughters fluid and did not know how much to take which was why we were not younger. We also thought it was the legendary Elixir, not that it would make us younger and you can suppose that caused some problems.”
“More than some,” Clara chuckled.
“True. Hadn’t thought it through yet but then again we didn’t know what we were playing with either. Thinking fast, we faked our deaths. Unfortunately, we couldn’t leave anything to ourselves so we walked out of it with just the money in our pouches. The rest of what we had was split between our two sons and it was quite a bit.”
“I’m not surprised, being a renowned alchemist,” Hermione said.
“Never made a Knut or whatever it was back then off of that,” George said. “Nicholas Flamel’s work in alchemy was not discovered until ten years after we disappeared. Someone discovered a copy of my notes - fortunately it was in a code only Perenelle and I understood otherwise someone might have copied us. Alchemy was a hobby, not my line of work.”
“So what did you do?”
“As Flamel, I was a scrivener and sold manuscripts and dabbled as an author. I wrote documents for customers, made copies of manuscripts as well and sold them. I was actually very well known for that back then. Some of my own writing had a limited following, but as that was before the printing press, my skills paid very well. We had a very nice home in Paris in our final years. It’s still there, if you’re interested: 51 sue de Montmorency. It went to my oldest son along with all the writings and manuscripts.
“So there we are, twenty-six years old or so and without any way to explain what happened to Nicholas and Perenelle or that we were they so we became Jean and Marie LeMonde. Records weren’t very good back then so no one questioned us when we hired on as potions assistants in Le Havre. We spent that life making potions and, of course, making another Stone as they can only be used once. We were rather well regarded as potioneers back then and were well known by magicals and Muggles alike - as this was before the Statute of Secrecy and Muggles bought potions as well. Made a good living and figured a way to leave some of it to us when we decided to go. We ‘died’ in 1466 at what most thought was age seventy-four.
“This time, we were sixteen year old Francois and Michelle and again already married.”
“At sixteen?” Hermione asked shocked.
“It was fairly common back then,” George shrugged. “We established our new life in Calais and apprenticed as enchanters, which by then was strictly a magical profession. We moved to London in 1490 and opened our own shop in Diagon Alley. I believe the premises is now the location of Madam Malkins. In 1527, aged seventy-seven we again went back as it were. This time and every time since then we were ten years old. I was Edward Standbridge and Perenelle was now Catherine Fitz-Herbert. By then, Hogwarts had its magical book that detected accidental magic so we ‘accidentally’ did some magic and were recorded as orphans of unknown parentage raised in the Muggle world and entered Hogwarts as eleven year olds in 1527. We married at fifteen, again not totally uncommon back then.”
“But if you were Muggle raised, that meant a Professor came and would tell your parents about magic,” Hermione observed.
“Not as orphans,” Clara replied. “While there were orphanages in one form or another, many orphans lived on the streets and such. We’d set things up such that while we were street urchins of a sort, we didn’t really scrape about much meaning we avoided the fates that befell many such children. Add to it we had wands and knew how to use them. But yes, a Professor would find us and bring us to Hogwarts. Until the Hogwarts Express, magical children raised in the Muggle World did not leave the Castle until they finished school except for Hogsmeade visits. It was too hard to explain, really.”
“Well, after raising our daughters which included Harry’s distant Great-grandmother, the Standbridge’s ‘died’ in 1595 at age seventy-nine and ten year olds Thomas Eldridge and Mary Seymour came into being.”
“I’m sure I’ve heard those names,” Hermione said. “Of course! Thomas Eldridge was a Headmaster at Hogwarts and his wife Mary his Deputy. It was in Hogwarts: A History!”
“Very good,” George noted. “What that book won’t tell you is we were the last married couple in that capacity and I was the last Headmaster who was not from a family with a proven Hogwarts connection. Every Head since had at least one parent who had also attended that school.”
“It also shows we weren’t skulking around as was said earlier since Headmasters and Professors at that school are hardly obscure people during their lifetimes,” Clara added.
“Our life as George and Clara was our ninth life and before you ask it’s not like being a cat,” George continued. “We again came back aged ten in 1917. This time we had to have a fake family because of the Hogwarts Express and better records since our prior reappearance in 1841. That and there had been a major effort to clear the streets of homeless orphans by that time and we can tell you orphanages were not pleasant places at all. But thanks to Polyjuice Potion, we were able to disguise ourselves as each other’s parent - adoptive naturally as the records now would show us to be Pure-bloods of some description.”
“How did Dumbledore figure out who you really were?” Harry asked remembering they had mentioned this practically at the beginning.
“Ah!” George replied. “We had done a fairly good job of covering our tracks. The records of our prior selves and of us now are not related at all. We even had the means with which to ensure that the records supporting our new cover were pretty much impeccable, namely Clara here and Charlotte, Elizabeth and Anne before her all worked in the Ministry hall of records and its predecessor. The only way for someone to tell that any of those records are not what they appear to be is if that someone also had access to Gringotts' records. Dumbledore, apparently, did which is a loophole we’ve now managed to close. That’s not to say Dumbledore stumbled onto us purely by accident. Oh no. You see, he had particular suspicions about a later Hogwarts student, also an orphan, one who claimed a magical heritage for which there were no clear records in the Ministry for he had been born in a Muggle orphanage. That student was named Tom Riddle…”
“Voldemort!” Harry said.
“Oh you know this?”
Harry nodded. “It was explained to me recently. Didn’t know about the orphanage, but his father was a Muggle and his mother was a witch.”
George nodded. “Well, given Dumbledore’s concerns about that lad he went back over the records of all muggle raised orphans identified in school records as something other than Muggle Borns looking for discrepancies. This was around 1939 or so. Somehow, he noted that we existed in Ministry records as of the date of our births in 1907, but not in Gringotts records until about a year before our prior incarnations were ‘retired’ in 1926 and there should not have been that kind of error if both sets of records were accurate. Oops. So, suspecting Clara and I had to be up to no good, he came looking for us.”
“And as we said,” Clara continued, “we never really skulked around so we were not all that hard to find, especially as our oldest daughter was already a student at Hogwarts.”
“I can’t see what possible interest you could have been to Dumbledore at the time,” Hermione said. “After all, what was he? Deputy Headmaster and Transfiguration Professor? Why would he care about a records discrepancy?”
“He was also and is also the Head of an Ancient House and held that House’s hereditary seat in the Wizengamot,” George replied. “And, if that was not enough, he was the de facto leader of the progressive movement within the Wizengamot. They were a very vocal minority, but a minority nonetheless and at that time Grindelwald and his fascist, Pure-blood movement was taking control of the Continent. Britain was arguably at risk of following suit, regardless of the position of the Muggles with respect to what was happening across the Channel at the time. Dumbledore was concerned that Tom Riddle had either become an agent of Grindelwald or some such as Riddle was quietly stirring the Pure-blood Supremacy pot over here. Naturally, he was concerned that there might be others like him or, worse, that Grindelwald had planted agents here years earlier to pave the way for his movement’s take over. I don’t know how he got access to the Goblins' records, but he did and as there was a suspicious discrepancy in our records he sought us out to find out what we really were.
“Naturally, we were not enemy agents as it were. Far from it. If we were agent provocateurs at all, it would not be for an autocracy of an inbred minority! They say that age leaves one inflexible and set in their ways. Perhaps that is true for those who know they will not live to see the consequences of their actions. But Clara and I have been alive for so long that what we see as the only constant is change. To resist change is to ask for trouble. Dumbledore is the voice of the progressives in the government. He advocates for tolerance and acceptance, not change. He believes the wizarding world can go on as it always has, not being truly old enough to know that there never has been an always has been. His views might have been prudent four hundred years ago, but not today.”
“Wh-why not?” Hermione asked.
“His views are designed to placate the various factions within the governing elite - and it is an elite. Fifty-four seats in the Wizengamot are hereditary, twenty-seven are life appointments and twelve are assigned by the sitting current Minister for Magic and last only as long as that Minister is in office. Not one of those seats is elected. The life appointments are nominated and approved by the hereditary seats so, naturally, they might be disinclined to appoint a radical and certainly not a Muggle Born these days.”
“Why not?” Hermione and Rose asked.
“A few hundred years ago it didn’t mean much,” George said, “but back then England and the rest of Britain was hardly a democracy. Muggle Borns today were brought up in a system where the government either does what their constituents want or they risk the possibility going home and having to find real jobs after the next general election. The closest thing in Britain to the Wizengamot is the House of Lords and over the last hundred years or so it’s had its teeth pulled as it were. Most recently, they capped the number of peers who can have a seat and there’s even talk that Lords might one day have to stand for election as well, although probably with being a peer as a préqualification. In the magical government, the Ministry answers to the Wizengamot and the Wizengamot answers only to itself.”
“But they have passed progressive laws since the War,” Hermione protested.
“Which generally go unenforced,” George replied. “Bandages, placebos, that’s all they really are. There are over 65,000 witches and wizards in Britain and only the 78 in the Wizengamot truly have a voice and they are not accountable to the rest. Of that 65,000, well over half have family ties to the Muggle World and are at least somewhat aware of concepts such as democracy and government accountability to the governed. Dumbledore pushes for tolerance and always has, but he does not address the real issues which are a Pure-blood Supremacy that is the one constant political block in the Wizengamot and the fact that that block speaks for less than ten percent of the country and yet it is entrenched and cannot be ousted by political process. Sooner or later it will boil over. It always has in the past where the elites try too hard to hang on to the ways things had always been in their memories.”
“What will happen then?”
“Revolution, which seldom ever turns out well for the losers.”
A/N: I would’ve left one, but then I changed my mind… Oh… we are by no means done with the Flamels… And yes, the kiss bit will be explained…