Two days after Christmas, the funeral of Nicholas Flamel and his wife, Pernelle is held. As per the couple's most current will as of ten years ago, they were to be cremated and their ashes scattered across their country of birth and home for many hundreds of years, France. An honorary monument was to be built for the masses to visit their empty graves, but the location remains as of yet unknown.
It was a solemn affair, where a great many gathered outside despite the later hour and the cold to say farewell to the brilliant alchemist who had discovered immortality. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts gave quite a touching speech as he had been rather close to the couple and had even worked alongside Flamel to discover the twelve uses of dragon blood.
It was beginning to snow and despite the bitter cold, the crowd remained quiet. One of the Gringotts' Goblins with sly, dark slanted eyes walked out before the front of the crowd and spoke into an enchanted megaphone. "It is with great solemnity that the Gringotts bank reads the last will and testament of Nicholas Flamel and his wife before the masses," Dulag, the goblin lawyer solemnly announced.
"Per the Flamel's wishes half of their gathered fortune over their extraordinary lifetime will be left to aid a number of listed charities and organizations. These parties will later be informed of the amount and terms and conditions for the usage of said funds.
A third will be used as a scholarship fund for those unable to pay for a mastery. All who are interested may apply for the Flamel Trust Scholarship but first must agree to the terms and conditions for said use. Further instructions will later be published for the public to be aware of the finer details.
And lastly, all records and notes on the creation of the Philosophers Stone have long since been destroyed by Nicholas Flamel himself. He wishes for the public and those devoted to the search for the Philosopher's stone not to seek said item among his belongings. Per quote, 'Though marvelous indeed, it was not a gift meant for wizard nor man to find.' End quote.
As for the remaining amount of their fortune that will be delivered to private parties, friends, and long-distance family members, since the Flamel couple never had any living descendants. We ask that the mourners respect their wishes and allow the couple their final rest."
Not long after the final speaker, the Minister of Magic, Eugenia Jenkins, a stout witch with bobbed hair gave a final speech, before solemnly stepping back and being handed a golden box that held the remains of the Flamel couple. With an air of solemnity, the Minister of Magic from France, a rather stylish wizard stepped forth to receive the couple's ashes. The two posed for a moment for the reporters as flashes of light could be seen, before the Minister of France took a step back and gathered with the French envoy, before taking an international portkey back to Paris, France, where a crowd of French wizards eagerly awaited their arrival.
Long after the crowd had dispersed away a red-eyed witch who appeared to be in deep mourning finally left and apparated away. The witch appeared on the stark, frozen grounds of an old manor. Shivering from the cold, snow-filled wind, she pulled her fur-lined cloak tighter around herself. Sniffing from the cold this time, Empusa Snyde eagerly made her way inside into the warmer manor. Pausing to only snow the snow off her boots, she hurried down the hall into the great hall.
The moment the great doors swung open, Empusa knew something was wrong. Many of the Death Eaters were pale and kneeling on the ground, while others lay strewn on the floor trying not to whimper lest they draw attention to themselves again and be tortured. The pacing figure in black robes whirled around to reveal the crimson-eyed figure with deathly pale skin.
"Speak," Lord Voldemort demanded leaving no room for error or protests.
Empusa Snyde instantly fell onto her knees and quickly answered the question. "It is just as Milord feared, the Flamel couple is indeed dead for the philosopher stone has been destroyed." There is a long pause of silence as Empusa tensely waits for the imminent display of wrath from the Dark Lord.
However, to her delight and to the disappointment of others at that exact moment, the great hall doors slammed open more. A rather dandy wizard wearing silver gloves dripping in blood happily made his way forward as a disfigured goblin oozing blood was floating behind him. With a flick of his wand, the goblin falls loudly onto the ground and lets out a shriek of pain as blood begins to quickly spread onto the floor.
"I apologize for my interruption and tardiness, Master," said Pyrites with an innocent boyish smile that did nothing to hide his fondness for blood and torture. "However, I come bearing urgent news that I believe, Milord wishes to hear."
"Speak filthy creature," Pyrites ordered as he placed his boot on the goblin's mangled fingers causing the tortured goblin to let out a scream in agony.
Pyrites is unable to hide the shiver of pleasure as he slowly withdraws his boot. The goblin weakly gasps as Pyrites much more kindly says again, "Hurry up, now. Our Dark Lord is not a patient man unlike me."
Panting in pain, the goblin hoarsely croaks, "Four wizards were caught in vault #713 and all four were tortured and killed." The chill in the room plunges as no one dares to even dare breathe.
"And tell, our Master, what else you told me?" Pyrites purred as if not aware of the dangerous, volatile situation before him.
The goblin shivers in pain and fear as he coughs, before hoarsely answering, "One of those in charge of the interrogation said that the bearded wizard claimed that the stone had already been destroyed before they had gotten in there."
The goblin paused and desperately pleaded for his life. "Please, I've already told you everything, I know! Please let me go!"
"Shh, shh," Pyrites gently chided the goblin. "Be good now." The terrified goblin falls silent as he lets out small whimpers of pain now and then.
Pyrites happily then kneeled on the ground and adoringly says, "Milord as your worst fears came true indeed our four brothers are dead now. But they did not betray you for another got there first."
Instantly Lord Voldemort points his wand and screams, "Crucio!" As the goblin begins to scream, withering on the floor dying the entire area in red. Finally, the goblin ceases to wither as he's either ceased to breathe or simply fainted from the pain.
Pyrites being the kindly soul that he is leans over to listen and still hears gurgled breaths. "Master, you are most merciful," Pyrites breathed in awe. "The filthy creature yet lives."
Lord Voldemort nods his head as if that were a matter of fact. Stroking his wand as if in deep thought, Lord Voldemort says, "Is there anything else, Pyrites?"
"Nothing else of value," Pyrites sniffed dismissively. "Though the wretched creature did spend an awful amount of time begging for his life. He even tried to bribe me! As if I'd ever dare to betray you, Milord."
Whirling around, Lord Voldemort points his wand at the miserable, foul beast. "Avada Kedavra!" A burst of foul green light is cast as the goblin grows stiff, while Pyrites eyes are full of adoration.
"Glorious, Dark Lord!" Pyrites truthfully flattered Lord Voldemort, who proudly pulled back his wand.
"You've done well, Pyrites," Lord Voldemort said. "You've pleased me and as such I shall fulfill your request from before. Rabastan!"
One of the kneeled dark-haired figures raises his face and says, "Yes, Dark Lord?"
"Pyrites will be joining you in your task," Lord Voldemort ordered leaving no room for naysay. "I expect that all is proceeding in time?"
"Yes, Milord," Rabastan Lestrange replied making sure to hide the hint of hesitation in his eyes. "All is going as planned."
"Excellent," Lord Voldemort said. "I want everyone to concentrate on finding out who destroyed the philosopher's stone! I want them found and brought before me!"
There is a chorus of voices that fervently answered, "Yes, Dark Lord."
"Now, rise my loyal brethren," Lord Voldemort said. "And let us mourn for the deaths of our four faithful comrades, who now lie dead."
The Death Eaters murmur out words of agreement as they happily rise back to their feet. They immediately begin to converse as Empusa begins to sniff and bewail about her poor Snyde. Her poor Snyde would have loved being here and would have adored the torture of the disgusting creature. But alas, her poor Snyde was gone, which only caused her to wail even louder. It was a terrible, terrible thing to be left alone in this world without their better half.