Morning Dictators and the Flamel Invitation
"Hello, Aunt Wanda? Is Harry here?" asked Daphne as she stepped out of the house's fireplace.
Behind her appeared Hermione and Draco.
Hermione had stayed over at Daphne's house the night before, while Draco had been called through the Floo Network. Judging by their expressions, the three of them clearly had something planned.
"He must still be sleeping. He stayed up late studying. Why don't you wake him up for me?" Wanda said with a calm smile as she prepared breakfast.
Hearing those words, Draco shuddered slightly. His gaze grew serious for a moment, though he quickly masked it as if nothing had happened.
"Of course," replied Daphne with a mischievous smile, already imagining an interesting way to wake Harry up. "Come on, guys."
Hermione followed her with resignation, while Draco stayed behind.
"No. I… want to check on Red," he said, avoiding the girls' eyes, who barely paid him any attention.
"Red is with Harry," Wanda commented, which made Draco freeze on the spot. Both girls immediately turned their eyes on him.
"Then let's all go together anyway," said Hermione, taking the lead along with Daphne. Draco trailed behind them with slow steps, as if dragging his feet.
They reached Harry's room, which had a plaque with his name engraved on it. Without even bothering to knock, Daphne opened the door as if it were her own house. Hermione wanted to protest, but knew it was useless, so she simply followed along. Draco leaned against the doorframe, watching the interior with a serious expression.
Harry's room was decorated in light blue and red, an odd combination yet surprisingly well balanced. On the walls hung pictures: Daphne and Hermione as little girls, the three of them with Draco in later years, and of course Astoria and Luna. There were also several with Wanda, friends, and other relatives.
On the shelves rested small golems and figurines that looked like sources of inspiration. A large bookshelf covered one wall, next to a neatly organized desk. A magical wardrobe opened on its own, letting out freshly ironed clothes that floated to a chair, ready for Harry to wear. In one corner stood a golden miniature castle: Red's obvious home. At the moment, however, the little dragon was dozing peacefully at Harry's feet. When he noticed the visitors, he lazily raised his head, stretched… and went right back to sleep as if nothing had happened.
"Hehehe, we can prank him," murmured Daphne, pulling a Muggle pen from her pocket.
"I… I don't think we should," Draco said nervously.
"Why have you been acting so strange for a while now?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You've known Harry longer than anyone. Have you never seen him right after waking up?" Draco replied seriously.
"Well… it's rude to enter a boy's room without permission. Normally his mom would wake him," Hermione answered.
Ignoring the conversation, Daphne was already leaning over Harry, thinking about drawing a mustache and thick eyebrows on him.
Draco wanted to stop her but didn't dare get closer.
"Harry isn't very… friendly when he wakes up," he warned.
Just as Daphne was about to touch his face, a hand shot up and grabbed her wrist tightly.
"Oh, you're awake!" Daphne said with a nervous giggle, freezing in place.
Hermione, who was the second closest, also froze. Draco thought of running, but the door shut behind him on its own.
Harry slowly rose from bed. His hair was a mess, his brow furrowed, and one of his eyes glowed with a red pupil charged with chaos magic. With his other hand, he brushed his hair back with the solemnity of an emperor putting on a crown. He still held Daphne's wrist, and his aura was that of a dictator who had just been disturbed from the most important nap of the century.
"What are you doing here?" he asked in a hoarse voice that carried the weight of a decree.
The three swallowed hard. Daphne was the first to speak, stammering:
"Uh… ah… your mom sent us to wake you up."
Harry opened both eyes and fixed them on her. It was the gaze of someone deciding whether a nation should exist or be erased.
"I see…" he finally said, releasing Daphne with a gesture that looked almost like a decree. "Leave. I need to get changed."
The three obeyed instantly, escaping like prisoners spared by divine grace.
Draco let out a long sigh.
"We were lucky."
"What do you mean?" asked Hermione.
"The last time Terry woke him, he ended up flying against the wall and wrapped in his sheets like a caterpillar," Draco explained.
"I honestly never paid attention to that," Hermione murmured. Although it wasn't lack of attention: she simply didn't know that Harry's chaos magic, right after waking up, tended to slip out of control. That explained the red eyes and dangerous aura. Of course, the bad temper was all his.
She and Draco turned to Daphne, who was still quiet, rubbing her wrist.
"Are you alright? Did he squeeze you too hard?" Hermione asked.
"No," Daphne replied thoughtfully. "But that was really cool. Harry is amazing. Damn it, I'm falling behind. I need to ask my dad to teach me how to keep a face as emotionless as his. I can't lose."
Draco and Hermione just rolled their eyes.
A few seconds later, Harry came out of the room as if nothing had happened, and the four of them went downstairs together.
"Harry, son, a letter from Mrs. Perenelle arrived for you," Wanda said, approaching with a pile of letters in her hands. With a casual flick of her magic, she burned almost all of them, leaving only a couple intact—among them, a golden envelope signed by Perenelle Flamel.
"Mrs. Perenelle?" Harry asked, still half-asleep, as he descended the stairs.
"Mmm… this world really needs cell phones. I wonder if we could make them," Wanda muttered, thoughtful, touching her chin with a finger. After all, she had lived many years in a base overflowing with technology created by a sarcastic, narcissistic, millionaire genius.
Harry, reading the letter carefully, paused for a moment and looked at his mother with curiosity. He had seen glimpses of that technology in Wanda's memories, though he didn't fully understand what a cell phone was. Still, the concept intrigued him.
The others also seemed curious, but Wanda gave them a smile before changing the subject.
"So, what does the letter say?" she asked.
Harry smiled.
"Mrs. Perenelle and Mr. Flamel are inviting us to their home in France. All five of us, including Mom."
"Really? That's good. We could talk about Beauxbatons. It's always useful to know someone who's been there," Wanda said with a gentle smile.
—
Once everyone was ready, Wanda snapped her fingers and, in the blink of an eye, they appeared in France.
The place was a small, quiet village. The air smelled of freshly baked bread and damp earth, while people strolled calmly along the cobblestone streets. Children ran, playing between the benches of a nearby square, and a few cars passed by slowly. Everything seemed normal, ordinary—so much so that it felt impossible for anything magical to be hidden there.
"Is this a Muggle village?" Draco asked, looking around with suspicion. He couldn't detect anything magical, and the modern clothing of the people, along with the automobiles, looked strange to him.
"The best place to hide is right in front of everyone. I'm sure the Flamel couple have many secrets. Wizards would never imagine they'd hide in the middle of the Muggle world, being so ancient," Hermione said at once, analyzing the situation.
"...Or maybe they just wanted a quiet place to live," Harry said calmly, reading the address from the letter once more. With firm steps, he led the group toward an old-style building made of pale stone, with arched windows and a solemn air. Passersby walked right past it as if it didn't exist, completely ignoring it.
Wanda watched with interest. To Muggle eyes it might have looked like any ordinary building, but her senses caught the magical defenses that surrounded it, invisible yet solid as fortress walls. Just as one of them was about to knock, the door opened on its own.
An elderly woman, frail in appearance and moving with slow steps, came out to greet them. Her body seemed almost bent with age, but her eyes still shone with a lively fire.
"Oh, it seems you've arrived. Come in, come in," said Perenelle Flamel with a kind smile, speaking in English.
"Hello, Mrs. Perenelle. We're sorry to intrude," Harry, Draco, Daphne, and Hermione said in unison, bowing with impeccable manners and greeting her in perfect French.
"Oh, you learned French! Such delightful children," said the old woman warmly, smiling as if she already felt affection for them. "Come now, it's cold outside. Come in."
Wanda, silent, observed her with curiosity. She didn't just see an elderly woman over seven hundred years old; it was as if she were analyzing her very essence. Perenelle, as if sensing that deep gaze, turned and gave her a serene smile.
The moment they stepped into the house, it felt like they had entered another world. Magic was tangible, alive. Objects floated through the air, lamps shifted their brightness depending on the daylight coming in through the windows, and even the sofas moved on their own to clear Perenelle's path, then rearranged themselves neatly around a tea table.
Ancient paintings hung on the walls, showing the Flamel couple in different places around the world—even in what seemed like a distant, forgotten kingdom. Glass cabinets were filled with alchemical artifacts, books with metal clasps, and an atmosphere heavy with centuries of accumulated wisdom.
Everyone immediately noticed that every object in the house was imbued with magic or alchemy. And considering that both ancients could barely move with ease, it was logical for the entire house to be enchanted to assist them.
The sofas floated gently, settling the group into cushioned seats. In that instant, several teacups served themselves and placed neatly in front of each of them.
"I don't really know if this tea will suit your taste," Perenelle said with a smile. "I asked someone to buy it especially for you. Normally we drink coffee here, but I wanted you to feel comfortable."
"Thank you very much, Mrs. Perenelle," Harry said with a shy smile, accepting the cup that floated in front of him.
"Ah, dear, you're adorable. This is the first time we meet face to face, without letters between us. And I must say, you're such a charming group," she said warmly, before turning her gaze toward Wanda. "And of course, the beautiful mother as well."
"Thank you," Wanda replied with a gentle smile, though she kept attentively observing every corner of the place.
"By the way, Mrs. Perenelle… where is Mr. Flamel?" Daphne asked with interest.
"Hmph. That fool is out in the greenhouse, cleaning as punishment," the old woman replied, frowning. "He almost lost the Philosopher's Stone by indulging in Dumbledore's nonsense. And to make matters worse, when I asked for it back, that brat went running to beg my husband for more time. If it weren't for Harry and all of you, that false professor might have stolen it. Meanwhile, Dumbledore keeps coming up with ridiculous excuses, saying things like 'it's time for something so dangerous to disappear.' An arrogant, foolish brat, as always."
Her voice grew sharp with annoyance, and everyone fell silent out of respect. Then, suddenly, her tone softened again and she smiled.
"But let's not talk anymore about those two idiots. I heard about this school exchange, that some Hogwarts students will be going to Beauxbatons and other academies. That's why I called you here."