Harry Potter: Blood and Time

Prologue.

March 20th.
01:43 am.

— Where are you?

A tall man with white hair, dressed in a very formal manner - so "formal" that he wore a golden brooch with his name engraved: Hermes Flamel. He moved with difficulty in a space reminiscent of a small laboratory. Inside, there was a variety of equipment, from bubbling vials of various colors to small moving metal constructs.

As he reached a door, he opened it gently with his hand. It was a child's room, with posters on the walls, a bed with greenish sheets, and an aquarium next to the bed glowing in navy blue. Above the bed, hung on the wall, there was a painting of an old man holding a red jewel, smiling.

As he approached the bed, he noticed a child with long blue hair, sleeping. He stood by the bed and, leaning towards the boy...

— How long are you going to pretend to be asleep?

His tone was playful, as if he were joking. Immediately, a burst of laughter escaped from the boy, who tried to put on a stern face.

— Darn it, I almost got it this time.

The man laughed gently. As he sat on the bed, the boy did the same.

— Yes, yes, keep deluding yourself.

The man's expression soon turned serious.

— But, on a serious note, Nikolas, you should be sleeping.

— I know, but I had to show you this.

Excitedly waving a letter that was pinned below the luminous aquarium, the boy showed it to him.

— Look, look!

While he gestured enthusiastically, the man opened the letter. Tears welled up in his eyes as he read the message.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Dear Mr. Flamel,
We are pleased to inform you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We are enclosing a list of the necessary books and equipment.

The school year begins on September 1st. We await your owl by July 31st. Yours sincerely, Director Minerva McGonagall.

The man quickly wiped his eyes, but Nikolas noticed. He hugged the boy, who returned the gesture. They stayed like that for a while until the older one stood up.

— I am so happy for you, my boy! But not surprised, your mother secured your spot there since the day you were born.

Nikolas didn't say anything, just smiled gently as he looked at his hands. The mention of his mother made him happy.

— I'm sorry I wasn't here when you received it.

— It's okay, Dad. I know about your work.

— Thank you, my little friend. Now go to sleep. Tomorrow, we'll buy your supplies.

— Alright, Dad.

Nikolas settled into bed to sleep, while his father got up and left the room.

(...)

The next day came too quickly, so fast that Hermes felt like he had barely touched the bed before it was time to get up. He stretched, having already informed his boss that he wouldn't be working today in order to buy the supplies with his son.

She, of course, agreed. Despite her eccentricities, Mrs. Granger was a kind person.

Hermes took care of his basic needs and was soon dressed, leaving his room and heading towards Nikolas' room.

Upon arriving, he knocked a few times while calling his name.

No response.

This was strange; his son never slept in so late. He was too active for that, usually waking up even before Hermes himself.

Upon entering the room, he noticed there was no one there. Only a bag of Floo powder. A sigh escaped his lips.

Of course, Nikolas must have already left.

Hermes approached the painting of the old man above Nikolas' bed. For a moment, the eyes in the painting seemed to focus on him. However, he didn't pay much attention, picking up the powder from the floor and walking to the fireplace in the living room.

Saying "Diagon Alley!" loudly and clearly.