Chapter 63.2- Doom Days

“Okay, you can talk now” I said, leaning back into my seat and waving my hand through the air in as casual a way as I could manage even as I could feel the weight that constricted around my magic. It felt like it was not going to do anything, but it was there. Present, waiting, watching, judging. I thought about telling Sirius what they were going to say, and I felt it press down on me. Not painfully, but just subtly so as to remind me of its presence. That was good at least. It meant there was going to be no chance of accidentally divulging the secret— not like I worried about that overmuch.

“What do you know about the philosopher’s stone?”

“As much as anyone else, I guess. It’s the only thing that can break the rules of magic, yes. It allows you to accomplish the final goal of alchemy, turning lead into gold and creating the elixir of life” I said.

“As good an answer as any. But what if I tell you you’ve put the cart before the horse?”

“What?”

“The original goal of alchemy had little to do with either lead or gold. And the elixir of life? While we were obsessed with immortality, we believed more that the elixir would be found rather than made. The creation of my stone changed that.”

“That’s impossible. There are accounts from philosophers born before you were that detail their desire to transmute lead to gold. Alain de Lille, Albertus Magnus, even Roger Bacon, the all died at least a couple decades before you were even born and they all sought the elixir of life. They wanted to make it.” I refuted him instantly. The information came from Harry’s memories. Let’s just say Hermione’s research into the philosopher’s stone had been thorough.

“Of course, of course. And when was I born?”

“1330 AD” I said, and Perenelle began to laugh while Nicholas just chuckled.

“Oh that’s a good one, yes.” He said.

“I still can not believe that people ever believed that”

“People are stupid. You can make almost anyone believe almost anything if you give them a good enough reason” He said the words like he was quoting something. If he was, I was unfamiliar with the source literature.

“So what are you saying? You made up being born in 1330? When were you born then?”

“I was born sometime around 9 AD.” He said, and I stared at him. He had to be fucking with me.

“That’s—“

“Impossible? I already told you to remove that word from your vocabulary” He said somewhat sternly

“I was born in 9 AD, and Perenelle in 12 AD, in a city you might have heard of. Pompei.”

“You were born in Pompei? What the fuck?”

“Indeed. Now let us tell you how it all happened and how we came to be here. When we do, you can decide if you think we are crazy or liars or not” I instantly cleared my mind. How the fuck hadn’t I even noticed his probe?