The soft rustle of parchment and the scratch of a quill filled the air as Harry sat at his desk in the Gryffindor dormitory. The day's classes were behind him, and the evening offered a brief moment of solitude. With his roommates downstairs in the common room, Harry took the opportunity to write.
He dipped the quill in ink and began to write the letter in elegant, deliberate strokes.
Dear Flames,
I hope this letter finds you both well. I wanted to ask—have you told Professor Dumbledore about me?
If not, I'd appreciate it if you didn't. He's a great wizard, no doubt, but he's also… cautious. He sees too many things through the lens of long wars and long memories. I'd prefer to remain under his radar, at least for now.
I've also been thinking about what you told me back at your manor—about giving up the Philosopher's Stone and preparing for your journey to the next great adventure. I understand, and I respect your choice, but… I hope you reconsider.
Not for the sake of immortality, but because I'd like to spend more time with you both. I still have so much to learn. Perhaps, in time, I might even be able to help you improve the Elixir. Who knows?
Yours faithfully, Harry
Tying the letter securely to Hedwig's leg, he whispered softly, "Take it to Flames. Be safe."
Hedwig gave a soft hoot, nuzzled his cheek, and took off into the night sky.
Meanwhile, at the Flames Estate…
In the grand yet cozy drawing room of the Flames estate, the air shimmered slightly as Hedwig soared in through an open window, landing gracefully on the edge of an alchemy table.
Nicolas Flames gently untied the letter as Perenelle brought over a pair of reading glasses. Together, they read Harry's words in silence, expressions gradually softening.
"He's… thoughtful," Perenelle whispered. "So young, yet already worried for others. And he speaks of staying by our side—not out of need, but out of care."
Nicolas smiled, folding the parchment carefully. "It's rare to find someone who values time with others more than their own ambitions."
"He reminds me of us… before we got so obsessed with gold and theories," Perenelle mused.
There was a pause as the elderly couple exchanged a look of quiet understanding. Words weren't needed for them to speak.
"We were so caught up in alchemy in our youth," Nicolas finally said, "that by the time we were ready to raise a child… our time had passed. The elixir may have preserved us, but it couldn't give us a legacy."
"But maybe… just maybe," Perenelle said, eyes misty but warm, "Harry is that legacy."
A long silence followed before Nicolas nodded slowly. "Let's delay our departure. Just a little longer. Let's see who he becomes… and help him become someone worthy of the world he wants to build."
Perenelle smiled. "He's already halfway there."