"Help!" It was then that she heard a desperate cry for help. From the tone, she knew it was a man, and there was a hint of pain and desperation in it.
"It can't be James, I hope his wife is alright?" Perenelle got out of her bedroom and walked toward the entrance. Recently, one of the Muggle families had sought help from her when her wife was having pain during pregnancy. Perenelle thought that it was a similar situation.
Perenelle was someone who was always ready to help. The very reason she got into potion and alchemy was to help others.
As such, the cry for help caused her heart to quicken, and she left her room and fastened toward the entrance. The pace at which she walked felt impossible for someone her age.
As she got near, she heard the knock again.
"Is that you, James? I'm coming," she did not wait for a reply, took the key from the nearby cupboard, and unlocked the door.
Without hesitation, she flung the door open, the creaking hinges breaking the silence of the night. The cool breeze swept into the house as she confronted the figure standing outside.
"What happened, James? Is Victoria all right?"
There was silence. Perenelle was about to ask him once more when he noticed something.
This was no James. She tried analysing the face, but the black hooded cloth blocked any possibility. Then, the stranger took a step forward and removed his hood. The dim moonlight revealed a face that sent a shock through Perenelle's veins.
Voldemort, the Dark Lord.
The shock gripped Perenelle, her frail form frozen in the doorway.
Voldemort, his pale and serpentine features devoid of any emotion, regarded Perenelle with a certain detachment. "Hello, Perenelle Flamel. Oh, look at myself. I should say Bonsoir, Perenelle," he declared, his voice cutting through the night.
Perenelle's mind raced, the shock slowly transforming into a surge of fear. Voldemort, the infamous Dark Lord, was standing right in front of her, his presence sending chills down her spine.
He is really back. Oh Merlin. Why is he here? I need to get away.
As Perenelle tried to collect her wits, her body moved on its own accord, instincts urging her to retreat and reach for her wand. Her frail hands reached for her wand, tucked away within the folds of her worn robe. However, she realized it was not there.
Oh no. It was on the nightstand, and when she heard the knock, she forgot to bring it along in such a rush.
Not that it would have changed the situation. As she made the slightest movement, she felt the weight of Voldemort's gaze intensify.
The speed of his reaction was unnaturally swift. In an instant, his wand was raised, and the incantation flowed seamlessly from his lips.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
The spell, known as the Full Body-Bind Curse, surged toward Perenelle, its magical force wrapping around her old body. At that moment, time seemed to freeze. Perenelle's movements halted abruptly, her body petrified.
Perenelle's arms and legs snapped together, and she began to fall down, stiff as a board. She watched as her face was inching closer and closer to the floor. But just as she expected the collision, her body began to float.
"Imagine I came all the way here and you would have died from falling, haha." Voldemort mocked.
Meanwhile, in France, Nicolas Flamel, unbeknownst to the events happening at his home, conversed with another elderly alchemist in fluent French. Still, compared to him, the other alchemist was young. This was the grandson of one of his past friends.
Nicolas was there to help the alchemist in the creation of a new potion.
As the discussion neared its end, Nicolas bid his fellow alchemist farewell in French, expressing gratitude for the exchange of insights. With a nod and a smile, Nicolas stepped into the green flames of the Floo Network, disappearing from the alchemist's residence in an instant.
The next moment, the fireplace in Nicolas's house lit up. Emerged from the green flame, Nicolas was back home.
He took off the white coat and put it on the nearby hanger. Today has been a very busy day. He had journeyed first to Beauxbatons, then to the bank. He made a few stops to buy some ingredients before meeting different alchemists.
Even though he was tired, he considered it a productive day. The different views from the new generation of alchemists, their way of thought were very bizarre. He needed to write down some of them for tomorrow to work on his experiment.
He got to his workplace, which was just next to the fireplace. This was a haven for any alchemist.
Towering shelves were on all sides, filled with tomes. There was all sorts of equipment and ingredients stocked around.
Nicolas walked to the wooden table, and Nicolas took some parchment from his robe and placed it on the table. Then, Nicolas proceeded to note down some of his findings before he decided it was time to sleep after a long day.
However, the room that usually resonated with the comforting aura of Perenelle's presence felt strangely empty. This was bizarre. Normally, Perenelle would be sleeping.
"Perenelle?" he called out. Maybe she has woken up to drink something or go to the toilet.
Then a distant noise caught his attention. The faint sound of movement came from the entrance door. Nicolas hurriedly made his way toward the source of the sound. As he reached the entrance, he witnessed an unexpected sight.
As he moved further down the corridor and into the entrance room, his gaze fell upon his wife sitting on a chair. There by her wife's side was a man whom Nicolas had seen his picture in the newspaper multiple times.
The dark Lord, Voldemort.
Nicolas saw the dark lord pressing his wand on the neck of his wife.
"Welcome back, Nicolas. I have been waiting for you," the voice of Voldemort rang through Nicolas's ear.