One Step Ahead part I | Sirius Black

Chapter 173

Gwen's brow furrows, roused from sleep rather reluctantly.

She groans, her arms stretching out above her head as she tries to wake up both her mind in body. For a moment she forgets that Sirius isn't here, her mind still foggy from the sleeping draught she'd taken the night before. She'd nicked it from a stand in a rather small wizard it village nearby, desperate for sleep and a break from the voices in her head. Halfbreed, whore, beast. She'd heard them whenever the days had grown quiet, Dumbledore's reassurance never quite ridding her of them.

She groans again, wondering what could have stirred her from the potion induced slumber. But then she feels it, warmth on her finger. Though this time it doesn't go away, this time her skin grows hotter and hotter beneath her ring until a cry of pain escapes her and she flies from her bed.

She stumbles outside, the sky darker than it had been when she'd first gone to sleep. She plunges her hand in the water they'd boiled yesterday for drinking, her skin throbbing as she yelps again.

Dumbledore tears out of his tent, rubbing sleep from his eyes with one hand, the other wrapped tightly around his wand. He stares at the Veela in confusion, rushing over and asking, "What—"

"It's my ring!" Gwen cries, her eyes watering from the searing pain. "Get the bloody thing off of me!"

Dumbledore quickly grabs her hand and pulls the ring off her blistered finger, surprised to find that the metal feels cool in his palm. He quirks a brow at her, watching her pull her hand in close to her chest. She sighs in relief, mumbling lowly, "Sirius charmed it. It's never gotten that hot before."

Dumbledore's brows furrow, his face growing pensive as he studies the ring. The Veela quickly snatches it back from him and pockets it, grumbling, "Tell me again why we must travel at night?"

"Tell me why your ring has suddenly harmed you," Dumbledore counters, peering at her over his glasses when she sighs and replies flatly, "Oh good, I love this game."

The Veela hesitates, glancing down at the red skin where her ring used to be. She reluctantly admits, "I don't know."

Gwen missed Bulgaria, despite the array of emotions that had surfaced while she'd been there. She hadn't been able to write Sirius since their departure, and in turn he hadn't been given a location to send her a letter. Three weeks. Three weeks since she'd seen him, touched him, heard his laugh. Her ring had grown warm against her skin constantly, but it wasn't the greeting she wanted. She wanted him. Her throat grows tight at the thought.

"The person we're to meet tonight doesn't much care for daylight,"

Gwen lifts her head at the Headmaster's words, asking boredly, "Don't tell me we're meeting a vampire."

Dumbledore chuckles, wondering curiously, "Would that bother you?"

"Not at all," She says plainly. "I've always wanted to meet one."

He smiles wryly and offers, "I can arrange that. Not this time, however. This time we're meeting an old...acquaintance."

Gwen rolls her eyes, muttering, "I've grown awfully tired of your elderly friends."

"Your assistance in talking with him would be greatly appreciated," Dumbledore says gently, refraining from mentioning the way the Veela fails to hide her smile. Dumbledore was not very good at asking for help, and he'd had to ask quite a few people in the last three weeks. The charm of the Veela's personality, not just her magic, had worked its way into all of his old friend's hearts despite their initial worries.

"And who may this acquaintance be?" Gwen drawls, turning to wave her wand at the tent she'd just run out of. It folds itself up neatly into a tight square, her hands reaching forward to pick it up. She halts when Dumbledore says nonchalantly,

"Nicolas Flamel."

The Veela's hands still, her mouth running dry. It couldn't be. Not the same Nicholas Flamel she was thinking of. Her head turns to stare at Dumbledore silently, taking in his calm smile and the glint of amusement in his eyes.

"Excited now?" He wonders, a laugh escaping him when the Veela's head bobs up and down rapidly. They hurry now to finish up breaking down their camp site, the young witch's excitement bubbling out of her as she demands flatly, "Am I meant to wait for you until dawn? You're getting slower by the day, Albus."

Dumbledore chuckles at her eagerness, pocketing the bag with the extension charm that now held their supplies. He comes to stand at her side and extends his arm. Gwen's lips reluctantly twitch into a smile, her hand resting on his elbow and then they disappear, sucked away from the dark forest they'd been staying in.

Gwen follows Dumbledore into a bustling tavern, her stomach turning slightly at the unfamiliar surroundings. She wasn't sure where they were, just that they were no longer in Bulgaria.

A small bit of relief steadies her when she spies a floating tray with drinks balanced on it. Magic. They could use magic here.

Dumbledore doesn't turn, just continues to make his way deeper into the tavern. He stops in front of a wooden door, knocking three times. There's quiet noises on the other side, barely heard over the loud laughter and chatting behind them. It suddenly swings open, revealing a rather thin looking man with bright eyes and a warm smile.

"Albus!" He says in greeting, and Gwen watches curiously when the Headmaster very carefully grasps the man's hand, giving it a gentle shake before replying, "Nicolas. It's a pleasure."

"Please!" Nicolas scoffs, gesturing for the wizard to enter. He pauses when Dumbledore steps inside the room, revealing the being behind him. Nicolas Flamel stares at the girl in surprise, his brows shooting to his forehead at the sight of her pearly hair and pale eyes. Gwen blinks plainly at him, her lips twitching slightly as she offers her hand, saying quietly, "Mr. Flamel."

The wizard's eyes grow round and he quickly gestures for her to join him and Dumbledore in the secluded room. He takes a seat at a table, the fireplace painting his wrinkled skin orange. For a moment Gwen hesitates, feeling awkward in the presence of the famed alchemist. She didn't believe the rumors when she was a student. Immortality seemed impossible, if not pointless. Yet the presence of the wizard made her feel differently. His aura held wisdom that only a man that had been around for nearly 700 years could have.

She slowly takes a seat, and Dumbledore hides a smile when he notices the Veela and the Alchemist studying each other. Nicolas' eyes suddenly flicker down to her arm, his expression growing thoughtful when he spies dark ink decorating her skin.

And then he smiles, his eyes glinting with appreciation at the symbol as he says lowly, "Amalgamation."

Dumbledore feels a twinge of relief when the Veela's unnerving gaze grows soft, a nearly wistful expression on her face as she nods.

Gwen's heart aches when he asks thoughtfully, "And what is the significance?"

The Veela smiles slightly, meeting the wizard's kind eyes. They both relax, and Gwen realizes that this wizard won't scorn her. Just as she shouldn't be afraid of him. And perhaps she wasn't afraid of him. Maybe she was afraid of the things he would see in the next six hundred years. He could live forever, and that was more terrifying than anything.

"Instead of eliminating the other entity, Amalgamation unites two as one," Gwen answers quietly, her hands twitching as she continues, "As equals."

Nicolas Flamel grins, and Gwen gets a glimpse of what he might have looked like before creating the Philosophers stone, before tasting immortality.

The rumors were true. She was certain now.

The alchemist glances at Dumbledore, saying amusedly, "She may just best you, Albus."

Gwen's smile deepens, her eyes slowly sliding to where Albus Dumbledore peers at her over his glasses. He smiles at his old friend before nodding towards his new one, replying calmly,

"I don't doubt it."

{{oooo I love the adventures Gwen has. Hopefully you guys aren't bored! I'll try and update again today!}}