2 Rebirth, Again?

Rebirth, Again?

France, 1977.

In a small, friendly, and quiet neighborhood, the soft cry of a baby was heard for the first time in a long while… if you could call it soft.

"Uwaaaa! (Damn it, again!)"

It seemed the baby's cry disturbed the residents of the house, as the lights turned on and the sound of slow, brittle footsteps echoed through the halls.

As the door opened, an elderly woman and her husband peeked outside. Their faces did not clearly reveal their age—not because they looked younger than they were, but quite the opposite.

"Nico, look, someone left a poor baby at our doorstep. Poor thing, he must be cold. Pick him up!" the woman said, pushing her husband forward.

"Uwaaaa! (Why am I crying? I can't control my tear ducts…)"

"Wow! Luckily, you seem to have energy, little one. Come, let me help you." The frail old man bent down, and strange noises came from his bones.

"(Wow, old man, I think you need more help than I do. But this seems oddly familiar.)"

The child stopped crying and suspiciously looked around, or at least as much as he could, given that he still had little control over his head.

"Nico, hurry, bring him inside. We don't want him catching a cold." The woman urged her husband, who quickly entered the house and lit the fireplace.

"Ugh! (Damn it, I can't get any words out of my mouth. Alright, stay calm, Stephen—observe and analyze.)"

As they slowly carried him inside, the baby tried to take in as much information as possible about his surroundings.

"Alright, Penny, I brought him in. Lay him on the couch near the fire. Please, send a letter to the Aurors so they can check on his parents." The man, slightly out of breath, placed the baby on the couch while giving instructions to his wife.

"(Aurors, Nico, and that thing on the fireplace—is it what I think it is?)"

"(If it is, I think I know where I am and who this old man barely able to move is—Nicolas FLAMEL.)"

After a while, during which the couple settled the baby in and checked for any injuries or scratches, the flapping of a large black owl was heard.

"Gaa! (Wow, awesome! Those are the famous messenger owls. That just confirms my suspicions.)"

The child was fascinated for a moment before his attention returned to the bright red stone sitting atop the fireplace.

"(Do they seriously place something this dangerous on top of a fireplace like it's a decorative vase or something?)"

The child's internal monologue was interrupted when he noticed fluctuations coming from all the objects around the fireplace—or more specifically, the house itself.

"(Well, it makes sense. Over 700 years, and no one has managed to steal it, not even get close. It must have that level of security.)"

As he observed swords gleaming with powerful fluctuations and even a simple fruit bowl radiating a surprising amount of magical energy, the child was astonished by the sheer level of magic present in the objects.

"Nico, Mr. Richard said that if you want, you can go see the child while he sends his Aurors to check the surroundings. It's highly unlikely he comes from a Muggle family, as they wouldn't be able to bypass all the house's barriers." Perenelle said as she read the letter brought by the owl.

"Alright, let him come. Meanwhile, I'll lower the barrier so he can enter. Please, keep an eye on the little one—he seems quite interested in the decorative swords," Flamel said as he slowly left the room.

After some time, while Mrs. Perenelle distracted the baby by showing him the Philosopher's Stone as if it were a keychain, the doorbell rang, and Mr. Flamel went to answer it.

"Hello, Mr. Flamel. It's been a long time. I hope I'm not intruding."

A man with a slightly exaggerated mustache, dressed in what seemed to be the uniform of the French Aurors, arrived. His prominent belly stretched the fabric of his robes.

"Hello, Mr. Richard. Don't worry, we needed your assistance. Please, come in."

Flamel gestured for the Auror to enter while explaining what had happened and mentioning the child.

"So, this is the little one. Before arriving, I had the Aurors scan the area, and they found no magical fluctuations or any trace of where the child came from. But don't worry—I will take him to a safe place where he will be properly cared for."

Mr. Richard spoke with eloquence, but his curious and greedy glances toward the stone that Mrs. Perenelle had left on the fireplace did not go unnoticed by anyone—including the child.

"Is that so? And where will you take the poor boy?" Perenelle asked, feeling a hint of guilt. Despite only playing with him for a short while, she had already grown fond of him.

"It appears the child might be a wizard. Even young children are somewhat affected by anti-Muggle barriers, so he will likely be placed in an orphanage under supervision until his magical abilities awaken and he is old enough to attend school—probably Beauxbatons. But don't worry, he will be fine."

The man spoke with confidence, though there was a subtle hint of reluctance in his tone—something easy to miss unless one paid close attention.

But for the Flamels, who had spent centuries navigating schemes and control attempts, it was easy to detect.

"Nico, I would like to keep him if we could. I've always wanted to know what it feels like to have a child or a grandchild, and for him to appear like this… it seems like a miracle brought by magic itself," Perenelle said as she gently stroked the baby's tiny head.

Nicolas Flamel looked at his wife before turning his gaze to the baby, who stared back at him with bright blue eyes filled with intelligence, as if he were waiting for an answer.

"Pardon my interruption, madam, but don't you wonder where the child came from or who left him here? What if this is a trap for the stone?" the man insisted, feigning concern.

"Don't worry. What could a baby do? Besides, after so many years and failed attempts, if someone manages to steal the stone using a baby as bait, then perhaps we no longer deserve to have it. We will keep the baby, and tomorrow we will go to the Ministry to handle the paperwork."

Flamel spoke firmly as he approached to touch the child's small forehead. The baby continued staring at him intently, but there was now a noticeable sense of calmness in his gaze.

"(Such an intelligent child… it's as if he understands everything that's happening.)"

Flamel then turned and motioned toward the door.

"Well, it's your decision, Mr. Flamel. If you need anything, feel free to call me. I am at your service," the man said before taking his leave.

"Alright, let's go to sleep. Tomorrow, we have a lot to do, and after so long, we also need to get things for the little one. Although I don't like this idea, we should get a house-elf to help take care of him."

Flamel's face showed a hint of sadness at the mention of the creature.

"That's fine, Nico. It's the best way to ensure the child's safety and well-being, considering we are quite old. Don't worry—I know you dislike having these poor creatures as slaves, but it's not as if we treat them that way."

Perenelle, who looked much more fragile than Nicolas Flamel, picked up the child and carried him to his room. She drew her wand and transformed a nightstand into a small crib.

"Alright, you'll sleep here. Rest well—we have a long day ahead tomorrow."

She gently patted the baby's belly until he drifted off to sleep.

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