Peverell looked up from the book he was reading. Something was different. He frowned and closed his eyes to concentrate.
What had happened?
Even with his eyes closed it took him a while until he could pinpoint the exact thing that had changed within the last minutes. It wasn't what he had expected.
"How?" He whispered confused.
The answer was a whispered voice in the wind.
"Don't worry, Peverell," it said. "It's all like it should be."
Peverell's frown deepened at that.
"I'm quite sure that it isn't fifteen years already," he said. "You told me that with your help I could lock him away for fifteen years without any consequences."
"There are always consequences," the voice replied sighing. "I promised you fifteen years since fifteen years was the time he lived without blood-magic once. It was basically a reproduction of his life before… the event."
Peverell blinked at that.
"The event?" He asked.
"It doesn't matter for you," the voice replied. "And it won't matter from now on as well. He broke the circle."
Now Peverell was totally confused.
"What circle?"
"Rebirth's circle," the voice replied with another sigh. "We basically rebirthed him like a Phoenix dies and is reborn. They die as an old bird in an ocean of flames and are reborn as a chick in ashes. His status as a Phoenix-born allows him a rebirth if I grand it to him. I did, so he was reborn - new and unencumbered. He was a child again - a real child without the burden of his previous life, exactly like the Phoenix is for the first hours of his new life. Over time his body started to remember his previous life, like it should be. His memories should have started to return soon: first in dreams, then in knowledge and then for real. At that point of time he would have slowly started up to do his blood-magicks again - and all would have been fine."
"And yet, this obviously hasn't happened," Peverell concluded darkly.
"It hasn't," the voice agreed. "He broke the circle."
"And yet you don't seem upset about it," Peverell concluded and the voice laughed a chilly laugh that made Peverell's skin crawl.
"No, I'm not," the voice replied. "I knew already that he would break it."
At that, Peverell stared into the shadows in his room in confusion.
"Why?" He asked.
"Because he wasn't born to follow the rules," the voice said amused. "His whole life is a life against the fundamental laws of nature while at the same time following them to a 'T' - haven't you noticed already?"
Peverell hadn't - but then, as good as he knew Salvazsahar he didn't know him as good as the voice in the shadows, because unlike the voice, he hadn't been there for all of it.
"Why?" he finally asked confused.
"Because someone who acts against nature is always drawn to someone who does it as well," the voice replied.
"That sounded as if Sal's evil," Peverell snorted.
"Not evil," the voice replied amused. "He balances everything. He always did. The moment evil is about to go on a winning streak, he's there and stops it. He's fundamental for the wizarding world - even more so in the future."
"And yet he has no idea -"
"No, he hasn't," the voice said. "He can't for now. He has to make his final choice first. It's his decision - to live or to die. When he has decided, I will either release him of his duties or finalize our deal. That's the way things have to be."
"That still doesn't explain why it has to be him," Peverell said sighing.
The answer was a laugh, but no answer was given.
"No, it doesn't," the voice said. "It doesn't at all."
Weeks later, Nicholas silently left the room when Salvatio's teacher finally left.
" Something has changed within your son over the summer," the Salvatio's Professor had said. " Whatever happened, he isn't the same anymore ."
And Nicholas couldn't help but feel guilty, since there was just one reason why sweet Salvatio, his parents' pride and joy, had changed.
It had been Nicholas' actions that changed the child.
"Nick?" Nicholas turned around and looked at his wife who looked at him quizzically. "Are you alright?"
Nicholas opened his mouth to lie, but his mouth seemed to have another idea.
"No," it said. "I'm not."
Perenelle looked at him in concern.
"Nick," she said. "Why are you worried?"
And for a moment, Nicholas cursed that his wife knew him that well to be able to read him so easily. Then he sighed, looked around to make sure that Cathérine and Henri had left and they were alone, and decided to confess.
"The professor," he said sighing. "He was right."
"Right with what?" Perenelle asked frowning.
"Something happened to Salvatio," Nicholas said quietly. "And it was my fault."
His wife's frown deepened at that.
"What are you -?"
"Do you remember when you and the other were gone while I was home with Salvatio?" He asked. "The time he was in bed with fever?"
"I do," Perenelle asked confused. "Why do you ask that?"
"I didn't listen," Nicholas confessed and suddenly tears began to flow. "I didn't listen and now something's wrong with our nephew!"
Perenelle raised an eyebrow at that.
"I fear, you don't make any sense," she said still half-frowning.
"I experimented," Nicholas said, letting the tears flow freely. "I thought it was safe. The formula was sound and I didn't see any risk in brewing the potion -"
Perenelle's brow furrowed in confusion.
"I don't see where you're going with this, Nick," she said. "I know you. If you think that a formula is sound, then normally there's just a minimal risk involved -"
"But I was wrong this time around!" Nicholas interrupted her heatedly. "I was wrong!"
"And yet I don't see how that could have changed Sal -"
"The potion blew up and I nearly died!" Nicholas replied in a rushed way. "I was wrong; my formula wasn't as sound as I thought and the potion blew up and nearly killed me!"
"And yet you were whole and healthy when we came back," Perenelle reminded him. "Did you hit your head, Nick?"
"Yes!" Nicholas said, then he shook his head. "I mean: no, I didn't hit my head, but yes, I was fully healed when you returned. It was Salvatio who did it."
Perenelle's eyes narrowed at that.
"What do you mean 'it was Salvatio who did it'?" She asked coolly.
Nicholas just shrugged helplessly.
"I don't actually understand what happened," he replied. "The potion blew up. I was dying. Salvatio came in and found me and then there's nothing. I woke up fully healed with a crying child in my lap in the middle of some kind of ritual - a healing ritual, Salvatio called it."
This time he saw his wife's confusion in her eyes.
"I don't know where he learned it," Nicholas said quietly. "But he basically confessed that he knew how to do a ritual - a healing ritual, he said. He also told me that it wasn't enough and…"
Nicholas trailed off and shook his head.
"It doesn't matter," he said. "The only thing that matters is that it was my fault that he changed. He wouldn't have changed if I wouldn't have been so stupid and decided to brew even after you warned me not to do it. He would still be the same sweet child if I hadn't -"
"Even if you were at fault," Perenelle said. "Even whatever you said has truly happened - and I'm not yet convinced that it did and that you didn't solely hit your head and dreamed it - there's still the possibility that it wasn't you who changed him."
Nicholas just shook his head.
"Something happened that night," he said. "I'm not sure what, but I know that something happened. He was different after that night. I thought he was traumatized. I tried to talk to him about it but he refused. But if they also noticed at school, then there has to have been more than just shock to it. Yes, he saved my life. Yes, it must have been a shock to him to find me dying. But I survived and yet he didn't return to the child we knew, instead it seemed to have gotten worse. Whatever happened that night, it was more than just finding me half-dead and healing me - and it is my fault that it happened."
Perenelle sighed at that.
"Nicholas," she said slowly, but Nicholas just shook his head.
"I know it, Perenelle," he said, his eyes grave. "Don't even try to tell me different."
For a moment, his wife seemed to want to argue against him, but in the end, she just inclined her head.
"I will not argue with you for now," she said. "We will ask Salvatio to return for Yule. We will talk to him then. If you're right, then we will know and we will help him to overcome whatever else happened that night, alright, cheri ?"
For a moment, Nicholas wanted to argue, but then he sighed and gave in as well.
He nodded.
Come Yule they would know what exactly happened that night Nicholas nearly died.
It was weeks later when Peverell got a visit he had hoped to never get.
"Peverell!" The voice of an angry vampire echoed through the halls, waking Peverell's descendants.
It was Peverell's restricting hand that stopped his many-times grand-son to head down and meet the threat head on.
"Don't," he said. "He came for me."
"Grandfather," the younger man started to say, but Peverell shushed him. "It was I who did something so it will be I who has to accept the consequences. Don't worry; he's not here to kill someone… I think."
His grandson looked at him in concern, but Peverell just smiled at him before heading down the stairs himself.
In the foyer stood Anastasius Sanguini, looking like he was about to breath fire in fury.
"Ana," Peverell greeted the vampire.
"Don't 'Ana' me, father-abductor!" The vampire seethed. "Thirteen years! I thought him dead for thirteen years!"
"And it was for the better," Peverell replied coolly. "Sal wasn't in any condition to continue like before -"
"That doesn't mean you can simply kidnap him!" Anastasius roared.
"It was either that or watching him die by his own hands!" Peverell replied sighing. "I couldn't let you come anywhere near him while he was a child -"
"Why?! Do you think I would have bitten him?" The vampire cried indignantly. "I wouldn't!"
"Which I know quite well," Peverell said. "But you were part of his old life - a life that he couldn't remember as long as -"
"You made him forget?" The vampire screeched. "How could you do that?"
"- as long as nobody he knew would meet him. If I had known that his parents decided to let him attend Hogwarts I would have stopped them since the risk of meeting someone he knew and breaking the seal on his memories was far greater there -"
"You sealed his memories?" The vampire shouted. "Do you know what consequences -"
"I know!" Peverell interrupted the vampire heatedly. "Don't you dare to accuse me of not taking in account the changes that would happen to his character if he was sealed away! But it was the only way I could help him! I refused to let him die and -"
"Shouldn't you have let him die?" The vampire sneered. "Isn't that a law of the immortal Firbolg? If one of them decides to die, you can't stop him and some such?"
Peverell's eyes narrowed at that.
"It is," he said. "It was an agreement between those that are counted to the immortal: the basilisks, the phoenixes, the dementors, the elder dragons, the thunderbirds, the high elves and the unicorns. Not that I truly understand how those purebloods can be counted to the immortal, considering that the most of them might live long - but not forever."
"If you know about it then why -?"
"Why not?" Peverell said amused.
Anastasius' eyes narrowed even more.
"You're a Firbolg-born like my father," he said. "Every Firbolg knows about the agreement - if they're part in it or not - and every Firbolg follows the agreement. So you shouldn't have done it. Nobody would."
Peverell shrugged.
"The agreement doesn't matter," he said. "I broke it. And I don't regret it at all."
Anastasius looked at him in surprise.
"I'm not sure what to think about that," he finally settled on.
Peverell laughed.
"Unlike other purebloods I do have some… rights… that they don't have," he said. "Not one of the others would argue with my decision if they knew that I decided it."
Anastasius frowned.
"I don't think I understand," he said and Peverell smiled.
"I knew you wouldn't," he replied, waving it off as if it wasn't important. "I'm not about to show you for now."
Peverell had no interest in confessing the most important secret he had kept since long before he had met Salvazsahar. The secret wasn't for the vampire's ears to hear - and the one who should hear the confession wouldn't be able to accept it now.
Peverell knew that his confession would have to wait for long since after his death. He could hint at it - he would hint at it - but he wouldn't confess. Still, if someone would draw the right conclusion out of his words - well, that wasn't his fault, was it?
His eyes fell on the shadow hidden in the entrance of his home, lingering in the still open door, watching them with unreadable eyes.
Anastasius hadn't seen it yet.
The vampire's eyes again narrowed at Peverell's words.
"You'll not show me?" He repeated darkly. "You're telling me that you broke an agreement that's older than my entire race - Gods! It's older than humanity! - and you refuse to show me why you - a baby in the eyes of everybody who's part of the agreement - thinks that he's above it?! Truly? Do you truly think that a little child like you has any right to even think about breaking something that's so fundamental for our world?"
"I told you: I don't care and I definitely don't regret it," Peverell said softly. "And I don't think that you truly regret that I broke the agreement."
"That's not the point!" Anastasius roared. "It was my father's decision! My great-grandparents stopped me when I tried to interfere! If I, as his son, am not allowed to interfere - who are you to think that you are allowed to do just that? Who are you that you think you're above the law?!"
"I told you I won't -"
"I don't care if you don't want to tell me! If I have to I will force you to -"
Anastasius was never able to end his threat.
"Anastasius Arthur Lucidarius Sanguini!" A voice interrupted the vampire sternly. It was the shadowed figure in Peverell's doorway.
The vampire flinched and turned hurriedly.
His eyes flickered over the shadow's face and body, reading the annoyed body-language of his opponent.
"Pater," he said, sounding more like a scolded child than a grown adult for just a moment before catching himself and returning to his adult behaviour. "What are you doing here, Pater?"
Peverell again looked over Anastasius' shoulder just to see thirteen-year-old Salvatio Malfoire standing in his door, a phoenix on his shoulder. He was looking at Anastasius sternly.
"Grandfather brought me when we found out that you were out and about to find out about my condition," Sal said coolly.
Anastasius gawked at that.
"But… but… you should be at Hogwarts!" He exclaimed.
"I should," Sal said coolly. "And so should you. Instead you are dandling across half of Europe - first to visit my… my parents just to inquire about me - your student! - and then you go searching for a man who should have been dead for centuries already!"
"Well, you were behaving oddly -"
"So why go and search out my parents instead of confronting me?"
"Because…" Anastasius actually had no explanation for that. "Er… I was… scared? I feared that I was wrong and -"
"-and you still should have talked to me first," Sal interrupted him sighing. "Really, child, sometimes I wonder how someone like me managed to raise a Gryffindor-like person like you. Only a Gryffindor would go out to confront the parents instead of the child - and then go searching for someone who should be dead!"
"But I knew he wasn't!"
"That doesn't matter!" Sal exclaimed. "You're a teacher at Hogwarts! You've accepted the responsibility for the education of your students! Dilly-dallying across the country definitely doesn't concur with your responsibility as a teacher! So, tell me again: What are you doing here?"
Anastasius frowned at that.
"I'm looking into the wellbeing of one of my students," he replied.
"That might have been the case in France," Sal countered. "But you already knew that I was well when you came here - so I ask again: What are you doing here ?"
Anastasius pouted.
"I'm researching what happened to my father," he replied childishly. "I needed to know!"
"You might have needed to know for your own sake of mind," Sal replied. "But you could have gone and looked into it at the weekend. So again: What are you doing here ?"
Anastasius shrunk into himself.
"Confronting the man who took away my father?" he finally asked meekly.
Sal sighed.
"Gryffindors!" He said, rolling his eyes. "Truly, Ana? Confronting a man who was able to not only de-age me to a child but also took away my memory - don't you think that confronting someone like that could have had dire consequences?"
"But… but… we're talking about Peverell!" Anastasius said confused. "I lived with him for a while! He isn't dangerous!"
Sal gave his son the gimlet eye.
"Peverell fried a whole fortress with lightning; he was one of the reasons why Hogwarts came to be and stood up to the Gathering of Lords without consequences for him; he de-aged a two-thousand-year old Firbolg and made him loose his memory; he did all that without breaking a sweat - and you tell me he's not dangerous?!"
Anastasius opened his mouth to answer.
"Think about it, child!" Sal hissed and Anastasius closed his mouth again.
A contemplative look crossed the vampire's features.
"Well… if you put it like that…"
Anastasius pouted and Sal rolled his eyes.
"Yes, I put it like that," he said. "Truly, Ana, what were you thinking? Peverell might have come across as nice and harmless, but if you look at his deeds in the past you would have long seen that he's definitely anything but that. Just looking at him - living for hundreds of years without any kind of magical help - should have told you about his power. Only a first generation Firbolg-born of at least one of the immortal can live for that long - and no Firbolg-born of their descendant has ever been harmless."
Anastasius frowned.
"But you are harmless," he said confused.
Sal stared at him in disbelieve.
Somehow his son reminded him of this very old memory of a gamekeeper at Hogwarts and a dragon's egg…
Sal hadn't thought about that man in a while, but the resemblance…
He shook his head.
"I truly have to go over the whole 'dangerous and not dangerous' thing with you, do I, Anastasius?" He sighed.
Anastasius blinked at that. His eyes widening when he finally realised something else.
"So you do remember me!" He exclaimed surprised.
Sal rolled his eyes.
"In the last few minutes, I talked to you about the past, spoke about your character and - believe me when I tell you that this part isn't widely known to everybody - I used your full name, Ana," he said amused. "I thought that at least the full name was an indicator that I remember you, considering that you hate your full name and normally don't use it at all…"
Peverell snorted amused while Anastasius pouted.
"You didn't act as if you were remembering me when I left Hogwarts," he said, still pouting.
The answer was a sigh.
"I was still absorbing my memories back then," Sal replied. "I wasn't quite sure what I was remembering so I didn't say anything."
"But you do remember now?" Peverell asked sighing and Sal's green eyes met his own brown ones. Peverell shivered at that coolness in those eyes.
"I do, Peverell," he said, ice in his voice before it warmed slightly. "Thank you, Peverell."
Peverell raised an eyebrow.
"I'm not sure -"
"You and I both know that I would have killed myself if you hadn't stopped me," Sal said.
"I know," Peverell sighed. "But I definitely didn't think you would thank me for my actions."
The answer was a half-sad smile.
"I forgot that there's still something I need to do some time in the future," Sal replied sighing. "My time as a child and my returning memories reminded me of that. I… forgot… that I can't die without doing at least that."
Peverell frowned at that confused.
"Doing what?" He asked and Sal smiled.
"Sending myself home to atr," he said. "That is one thing I cannot not do."
When Peverell still looked confused, Sal just padded his hand with a smile.
"Don't worry," he said. "That's something I've never told you. Just know that I won't try again. I remember what's important now - and I think I will be able to live as long as I remember why I need to continue living."
"That doesn't sound as if you like living," Peverell frowned.
The answer was another half-sad smile.
"I don't," Sal replied. "I have seen too much, done too much to like it anymore, but at the same time I don't mind it anymore."
Peverell sighed.
"What will you tell your family?" he asked finally.
Sal looked quite uncomfortable at that.
"I'm not sure," he said. "I don't like lying to them, but I also don't want my parents to loose their child - even if they already lost it somehow the moment I started to remember. They're still my parents, because I remember being raised by them and part of me loves them like that - but at the same time they're children in my eyes now. I'm not sure how to cope with that…"
Peverell grimaced.
"In the end, it's your decision," he said. "Either you return to them and accept them as the parents they were to you for the last thirteen years or you return to your old life and refuse to ever return to them from now on."
Sal grimaced and sighed.
"I can't simply leave them," he said. "The part of me that was the child raised by them would never forgive myself if I simply left them. At the same time I won't be able to be the same… child… I was, now that I remember."
For a moment, silence reigned.
"I can come with you and tell them that you came into your inheritance early," Peverell finally suggested. "They don't know a lot about purebloods and they think that you are one. We can explain the changes like that. If you want to you can even explain your memories like that. They always knew that you weren't a normal magical and they accepted you anyway. I'm quite sure that they'll accept you even with your memories and changed behaviour."
At those words, the phoenix on Sal's shoulder flew down to the floor and changed into a red haired man with fiery eyes.
"That is the least you can do," Fawarx said. "You were the one who broke our law after all and brought Salvazsahar as a child to his current family."
Anastasius groaned.
"Not that again," he mumbled. "Peverell and I just talked about that shortly before you came…"
Sal looked at Anastasius in surprise, but Fawarx ignored his great-grandchild's exclamation and instead started at Peverell icily.
Peverell's eyes lit up like lightning at that.
"Not my law," he said. "I'm not bound by it."
"Every Firbolg - immortal or not - is bound by that law!" Fawarx countered. "We don't have many laws, but this one is unbreakable! Nobody - absolute nobody - has the right to even think about interfering in this law!"
"Like I said," Peverell countered darkly. "I don't care! I am not bound by it!"
"No Firbolg is an exception!" Fawarx replied icily.
The answer was a sneer.
"That's what the thunderbird's part of my soul tells me," Peverell replied coolly. "But it's not this part in me that refuses -"
"If you're part thunderbird, part of the immortal, then you're even more bound by it!" Fawarx hissed angrily.
Peverell fletched his teeth. It was an utterly feral gesture and made Anastasius' skin crawl. The phoenix, to Anastasius and his own surprise, stepped one step backwards.
" I am not bound by that law," Peverell repeated, before he added nearly silently. "My actions are bound by far worse than a simple law."
His eyes and the eyes of the phoenix met and the phoenix shivered at that.
Something passed between the immortal phoenix and the seven hundred-year old pureblood.
The phoenix was the first to look away.
"I see," Fawarx finally said nearly silently. "You're the first grim's child…"
Peverell grimaced at that.
"I am," he said. "It wasn't my choice."
The phoenix laughed at that.
"Definitely not," he said. "I am one of the few truly immortal Firbolg, and even I prefer my fate to yours."
Peverell waved it off.
"It's not I who suffers because of his relation to the first grim," he said. "My father suffered for thousands of years - but unlike him neither myself nor my sister were born a true grim, hence, I'm not born to suffer like my father."
Anastasius and Sal looked at him in confusion, but Fawarx nodded.
"I remember your father," Fawarx said. "I heard he was finally granted his end some hundred years ago -"
The phoenix looked at the pureblood in front of him thoughtfully.
"I would have sworn that he was granted his end just decades after your birth," Fawarx added.
Peverell inclined his head.
"He already had a living heir back then. His heir back then had already been slowly taking over my father's duties for about a thousand years. But duties like his can be a heavy burden and two of them managing them, was a lot easier than just one of them doing them. My father would have prevailed for at least another thousand years if I hadn't offered to share the duty with his successor for him."
"What kind of duties are you talking about, Peverell?" Sal asked with narrowed eyes.
Peverell looked at the man-turned-child and grimaced again.
"Let's just say, that the first one who ever wielded the Deathly Hallows rightfully was my father," he said.
Sal's eyes widened at that.
"Did he like Medrawed -"
"Medrawed didn't wield those powers rightfully." Peverell answered sighing. "There aren't a lot of people who have the strength to wield them without succumbing to their thrall. My father could - and since he could, he could give them up long before I was even born…"
"Give them up?" Sal repeated surprised.
"The final and the first deed of those who can truly wield their powers," Peverell answered sighing. "I am sorry, Salvazsahar."
Sal frowned at that.
"It wasn't you who gave them up," he said confused.
"No, but if it weren't for my grandfather and father, they wouldn't even exist," Peverell replied. "My father gave them up about two thousand years ago. If he hadn't, Medrawed would have never found them and never succumbed to them. You wouldn't have to bury your brother -"
"So he wouldn't have done the Horcrux without the Deathly Hallows?" Sal questioned bitterly.
Peverell winced.
"No," he said. "The decision for the Horcrux has nothing to do with the Deathly Hallows."
"In other words: It wouldn't have changed a thing," Sal replied bitterly.
Peverell opened his mouth to object, but in the end, he couldn't.
"I fear you are right," he finally said tiredly. "There's a huge chance that it wouldn't have changed anything in the end, except that he would have died that day you used your eyes on him and not ended up as stone."
Sal raised his eyebrow at that, but before he could ask, Peverell continued with the explanation Sal would have asked for.
"A Horcrux binds the soul to the living world," Peverell said. "But it doesn't bind the soul to its body. The Hallows on the other hand bind the soul to the body and not just to the living world. Your brother's body would have died that day if he hadn't been the Master of the Deathly Hallows."
Sal said nothing for a moment or two after that confession. In the end, he just sighed.
"I guess it was better like that," he said. "At least he couldn't wreak havoc as a wraith while I was looking for his Horcrux."
Peverell smiled at the immortal boy in front of him.
It was great to see that Sal had healed enough to be able to deal with his deed without feeling too guilty about it. Oh, Peverell could still see and hear the hurt and self-hatred in Sal's face and voice, but he also could see the slow acceptance that was muffling the guilt.
Sal wasn't alright, but he would be in time.
It was the day before Yule when the front step of Malfoire Mansion was again occupied by a man who actually didn't belong to the Malfoire family. This time it was Nicholas who opened the door, feeling like a dejà-vu was about to happen.
The old man in front of the door looked the same like thirteen years ago.
Nicholas frowned when he saw the man.
"I thought you would come back in two years and not now," he said and the old man sighed.
"I planned to," he said. "But something changed, so I am here now."
Nicholas' gaze darkened at that, but he stepped aside nevertheless.
"Cathérine and Henri won't let you take the child if that's what you came to do," he told the old man. The man just sighed.
"Don't worry," he said. "I didn't come to take away the child."
Nicholas frowned but nodded before leading the old man to the sitting room where Cathérine, Henri and Perenelle were conversing and reading. Salvatio had secluded himself to his room the moment he had returned home yesterday night. He hadn't shown himself all day.
"Who was at the door, cheri ?" Perenelle asked, looking up from her scrolls. Her breathing hitched when she recognised the old man behind her husband.
"You," she said and Cathérine and Henri turned at her fearful expression.
Cathérine's eyes widened when she recognised the man.
"Are," she gulped before forcing the words out of her mouth. "Are you here for Salvatio?"
The old man sighed at that.
"May I take a seat?" He asked and when the two women reluctantly nodded, he sat in one of the left-over seats before continuing. "Yes, I am here for Salvatio," he said. "Something happened this summer."
Nicholas paled at that.
"So… so it was my fault?" He asked with guilt-ridden eyes. He had confessed what happened to his brother- and sister-in-law after he had talked about it with Perenelle. He thought that he should at least tell Salvatio's parents what he had recklessly done and how it had changed their beloved son.
"Your fault?" The old man frowned.
"I was dying and he healed me," Nicholas confessed. "He was different after that -"
The old man frowned.
"So that's how it happened," he said. "I was notified when it happened but I didn't know how it happened."
Nicholas closed his eyes at that.
"So it was my fault," he said defeated. "If I hadn't been, whatever happened to Salvatio wouldn't have happened…"
The answer was a sigh.
"May I ask what you allude to when you talk about 'whatever happened to him'?" The old man asked. "What did you notice changing?"
Nicholas bit his lips at that before looking at his wife and the rest of the family.
"He was more withdrawn," Cathérine said slowly. "At that point of time I still had no idea that something had happened because someone didn't tell me about the accident." She sent Nicholas a dark look, and Nicholas looked away. Neither Cathérine nor Henri had been happy with him when they finally found out. They hadn't blamed him for the accident, but they blamed him for not telling them sooner.
"He was a little bit more cautious," Henri added. "And his vampire teacher came by because Salvatio started acting different towards him. I don't know how he acted different, because the teacher never said; I just know that he did."
"Nicholas also noticed that Salvatio's tears gained… phoenix-like abilities," Perenelle added. "Or at least we never noticed it if they had if before - not that Salvatio cried much even as a babe."
The old man nodded at that.
"What about knowledge?" He asked and Nicholas frowned.
"Are you talking about the ritual he used to heal me?" He asked and was surprised when the old man nodded.
"This would do," the old man said.
Nicholas eyes narrowed.
"Why did you ask us about those changes?" He questioned wearily.
To his surprise, the answer didn't come from the man in front of him but from a child's voice at the door.
"Because he wanted to know if I truly woke up," the child's voice said and Nicholas as well as the others turned to look at Salvatio who stood at the entrance to the door warily.
"Salvatio," the old man greeted the child.
"Peverell," the child replied as if greeting an old friend. Nicholas' eyes narrowed.
"You know him, Salvatio?" He asked cautiously.
"I remember him bringing me to you," Salvatio replied. "It's a little bit blurry, as if it was a dream, but I remember him nevertheless."
"He never told us his name back then," Nicholas said frowning and Salvatio just shrugged.
"I know," the child replied. "But I remember everything before I met you as well - even looking at my birth parents for the first time, and also looking at them for the last time."
Peverell grimaced at that.
Perenelle on the other side frowned.
"He didn't remember before," she said before turning to Peverell. "What happened?"
The old man sighed.
"I know I promised you fifteen years before his heritage would make itself known, but," at that he was interrupted by Nicholas when Nicholas finally understood what had happened back when he had nearly died.
"His heritage," he said in dawning realisation. "When he tried to rescue me it awakened his pureblood heritage."
It was Salvatio who answered.
"It did," the child said. "I'm sorry, Oncle Nick."
Nicholas just shook his head.
"It isn't you who should be sorry," he said, feeling angry with himself. "It is I. I was the one who was stupid enough to experiment with nobody in the house to help me if something happened! I was the one who basically forced you to grow up faster than you should just because I was too stupid to keep myself safe!"
Salvatio just shook his head.
"I could have let you die, Oncle," the child said. "It was my decision - and I don't regret it."
Nicholas opened his mouth to object, but the old man who had been called 'Peverell' by Salvatio, intercepted him before he could even utter one word.
"You don't have to worry about Salvatio," he said. "Awaking early hasn't done him any harm."
The child raised an eyebrow at that but didn't object.
"So," Perenelle said cautiously. "What does happen now that Salvatio truly is a pureblood?"
To Nicholas surprise the old man looked at Salvatio with a questioning look instead of answering immediately.
Salvatio hesitated.
Then he sighed.
"I won't leave or anything if you don't want me to," he said. "But I'm not the child you know anymore as well."
Salvatio looked at his parents and aunt and uncle with shadowed eyes.
"I can't be the innocent child I was before this summer ever again," he said. "If you can't accept that, I will leave because I won't act and lie to you like that. I grew up loving you as my parents. I won't defile this relationship by trying to lie to you about my character and decisions."
"Salvatio is a phoenix-born," Peverell said sighing. "His heritage doesn't just involve abilities, it also involves memories."
"Like the ritual he used to heal me," Nicholas concluded.
Salvatio inclined his head.
"Yes," he said. "But not just that. I've gained about two thousand years worth of memories. I'm not a child anymore."
At that, Cathérine pressed her fist to her mouth to stifle a sob.
It was Henri who asked the question they all wanted to ask.
"Does that mean we aren't your parents anymore?" Henri's voice was soft, full of grieve and yet accepting in a way Nicholas wasn't sure he himself could have ever been.
The conflict on Salvatio's face was heart-breaking and at the same time so hope-inducing. It looked as if two parts in him were ringing with each other. One part, so Nicholas guessed, the memories the child gained, and one part the child they raised.
It was heartening to see that the child hadn't stopped loving them even with the memories he gained.
Obviously Cathérine could see it as well, because she stumbled to her feet to run over to her child. She fell to her knees in front of it and embraced it, burying her tear-strained face into her child's shoulder.
For a moment, Salvatio looked uncomfortable, but in the end, he hesitatingly reached out and embraced his mother - and his mother she was, at least in Nicholas' eyes.
"Like I said before," Salvatio said, his voice laced with longing and tears. "I won't leave if you don't want me to. Just don't expect me to be the same."
At that, Henri smiled tearfully before standing up and joining his son and wife at the door.
"We won't, Salvatio," he said. "As long as you don't expect us to always remember that you now feel a lot older than you are; we at least try to remember that you suddenly gained enough knowledge to make us children in your eyes…"
Salvatio grimaced at that.
"I definitely didn't need that mental image," he complained and his parents laughed.
"Sorry, mon fils," Henri replied before hesitating. "Is it still alright with you to call you that?"
Salvatio sighed.
"You raised me for thirteen years, papa," he said. "Even if I have the memories of two thousand years, it doesn't change the fact that habits from my time growing up with you had time to fester. I'm quite sure that even I am hard pressed to stop calling you my parents even if I remember hundreds of years living without you."
The answer was a smile from Cathérine.
"Don't even try to stop," Cathérine said. "Believe me, even if you would have turned out a five-thousand-years old vampire with memory-loss. We raised you, so you are still our son!"
At that Salvatio blinked in surprise before exchanging a glance with Peverell.
"No," Peverell said amused. "He's definitely not five thousand years old - and believe me, you would have long since noticed if he were a vampire."
Salvatio snorted at that.
"Sometimes I wonder about you, Peverell," he said. "How, by the Gods, did you find those people for me as parents? I somehow have the feeling you intent to drown me in Gryffindors!"
Peverell looked at the child innocently.
"They're from Beauxbaton," he replied. "I had no idea what house they would have been in at Hogwarts."
Salvatio just raised an eyebrow.
"You sure?" He asked and Peverell shrugged.
"Well, I followed Godric's line, since I know of the relation between your mother and them," Peverell replied. "I'm not at fault for the rest of all this!"
Nicholas frowned at that.
"What do you mean 'you followed Godric's line'?" He asked suspiciously.
The old man sighed.
"I planned to give Salvatio to a relation of his," he said. "Since, like you know, I'm quite old and because of that weary to raise a child all alone. I knew that he was related to Godric Gryffindor, the founder of Hogwarts, so I searched for Godric's heirs."
"And you came to me," Nicholas said, suddenly understanding in his eyes. "You know my true last name."
For a moment, Peverell hesitated. Cathérine, Henri and Salvatio looked at Nicholas interestedly.
"What do you mean 'your true last name'?" Cathérine asked and Nicholas grimaced.
"You know that my family left Britain when I was a child of ten, don't you?"
Cathérine and Henri nodded.
"When I was accepted at Beauxbaton, I changed my last name to Flamel to obscure my heritage. Perenelle knows, but we never told our children or anybody else," Nicholas said sighing.
At that, Henri frowned.
"You obscured your last name?" He asked.
Nicholas sighed.
"My last name isn't one you can bear easily," he replied sighing. "It's a name shadowed in history and darkness. I grew up with it for ten years and I was vilified long before I was even old enough to have a wand. I didn't want the same for my children, so I begged my parents to change my name when I was added to Beauxbaton as a student."
Henri frowned.
"Vilified?" He asked.
Nicholas grimaced.
"The name 'LeFay' normally always makes sure that you're vilified by only having that name," he replied. "I'm not surprised that Godric Gryffindor gave up his name when founding Hogwarts…"
Peverell snorted.
"Actually," he said. "Giving up his name was an accident. He was married to my sister Rowena while I was married to his sister Helga. It was simply practical to differentiate between us with the help of nick-names. It would have been confusing otherwise."
The other adults stared at Peverell.
"You were a founder of Hogwarts?" Nicholas asked surprised.
Peverell shook his head.
"No," he said. "My wife was. I simply knew them all."
Sal snorted.
"I remember distinctively one very shiny tower belonging to you in Hogwarts," he said amused.
Peverell shrugged at that.
"I had to live somewhere," he said. "Anyway, I wouldn't dare to claim it again. It's inhabited by a nuisance without any sense of rightfulness."
Sal raised an eyebrow at that.
"Sounds as if you're peeved with the Sorting Hat," he said amused. "Whatever why?"
Peverell answered with a disbelieving look towards the child.
"It put you in Ravenclaw!" He said.
Sal shrugged.
"It did," the child said amused. "That doesn't explain why you're peeved."
"It. Put. You . In. Ravenclaw !" Peverell replied slowly. "That thing is either insane or defect - whatever it is, it's definitely not doing its job right anymore!"
Sal winked it off.
"Don't worry, Peverell," he said. "If I ever wear it again, I'll promise to try for Hufflepuff."
Peverell gawked at him.
"Huffle… puff," he repeated slowly. "You…"
Salvatio grinned.
"Why not?" He asked. "I remember being sorted into Gryffindor once, after all…"
Peverell shook his head slowly.
"You know what, Sal," he said. "I don't want to know what you've been up to since I last saw you. I like being sane, thank you very much."
Sal shrugged unconcerned.
"You're not implying that my parents raised me to be insane, do you?" He asked amused and Nicholas wondered if Peverell knew what memories Salvatio had inherited. It seemed that Peverell at least knew enough about those memories to be able to interact with the child.
Peverell at the same time opened his mouth, just to close it again without saying anything.
The old man shook his head and then turned to Cathérine.
"There's just one thing you should know about your son if he stays with you," he said. "Salvatio won't die - at least not for quite some time."
At that, Henri and Cathérine exchanged a concerned gaze.
"What do you mean 'he won't die'?" Perenelle asked.
"Firbolg-born like me lives for a very long time," Salvatio replied for the old man. "Just look at Peverell: He lived for seven hundred years already - and he isn't one of the so called immortal ones. My own birth-father lived for over a thousand years."
At that, Cathérine closed her eyes.
"So I guess you will live that long as well," Henri said concerned.
Sal shrugged.
"About," he said. "My father was killed. He didn't die naturally."
Cathérine and Henri exchanged a look.
"Will he age like a human?" Henri asked Peverell.
Peverell nodded.
"At least for now, he will," Peverell said. "He will grow up like any other child, but he's right. He won't die for a very long time."
Nicholas' eyes darkened at that.
"And I won't as well," he said, exchanging a look with Perenelle. "I'm working on a Philosopher's stone - and I will succeed. I can make sure that we'll be able to look after him until he doesn't need or want us anymore!"
Peverell frowned at that, but in the end shrugged.
"You can at least try to find the formula," the old man said. "If you don't succeed, so be it."
Nicholas gave him the gimlet eye.
"I will succeed," he growled. "It was my fault that Salvatio had to wake up his heritage that early - the least I can do is stay by him while he's forced to wither centuries!"
Henri and Cathérine on the other hand exchanged another look.
"What about children?" Cathérine asked. "Will he be able to have children?"
Peverell looked at Salvatio.
It was the child who answered.
"No, maman," he said. "I can't. Not for a long time yet to come. I'm sorry."
The answer was a soft smile.
"It's alright, mon fils," she said. "It's enough for me that you will live. I was merely concerned about your future. Your father and I can arrange your marriage like every parent should - but we can't stop your wife from aging a lot faster than you. I just hoped that if you had children there would be at least some other persons you could have in your life for some time to come."
Salvatio just smiled at his mother.
"It's alright, maman," he said. "You don't have to fear for me. I'm just thirteen right now. Whatever will happen, will happen years from now."
Cathérine smiled at that.
"Nevertheless we should look out for a wife from a long-living family," Henri said. "Your mother and I were already looking, since in one or two years it's time for you to engage. Knowing that you'll live a lot longer than us just narrowed down our search pattern a little bit more."
Perenelle nodded.
"It just means that you finally can reject that pompous… man's offer," she said. "He's been after Salvatio since the boy stopped him in cornering you seven years ago. That damn lord might have a high standing in French society, but it's well known that his family members don't even reach a century - far too short for someone like Salvatio."
Nicholas nodded as well.
"It also adds some families we didn't consider until now," he said. "Families like the Notts, the Maximes and the Blacks. They're all very powerful politically, but we ruled them out since they've all very prominent pureblood heritage. Since we didn't know Salvatio's pureblood heritage and some purebloods simply can't with each other, we thought it best not to consider them at all."
Peverell raised an eyebrow.
"You've been looking for a wife for Salvatio?" He asked a little bit unsure.
Salvatio rolled his eyes.
"They're looking since I was ten," he said. "And no, I don't like it - at all."
Peverell looked at Salvatio confused.
The immortal child just rolled his eyes again.
No, Sal hadn't thought about the fact that his parents wanted to marry him off, when he decided to return. He hadn't even thought about it in passing until his mother spoke about it again a few minutes ago.
For a moment Sal contemplated if he could stop his parents' quest for his wife. It wasn't that Sal objected to a woman in his life. He had lived for centuries; of course he had had all kinds of lovers. Some lovers he stayed with their whole lives, some he just met for one night, some where love-interests, some friends-turned-lover, some friends with benefits. There were hundreds of years Sal had gone without lovers; there were other centuries in which he had more than one. There were even some lovers that had been his partners in something akin to marriage - not that they had truly been married by current standards. Marriage like it was now hadn't existed for the most part of Sal's life, after all.
Still, Sal had always chosen his lover himself.
In the end he conceded that it would take time to disabuse his parents of the idea to marry him off. There was no way he would be able to stop them without working on them and his uncle and aunt for some time.
But then, Sal was a two thousand year old Firbolg-born - disabusing his current parents from organizing his marriage should be easy for him, shouldn't it?