We chatted some more in the street, and had lunch with the Delacours in one of the cafes. Fleur and Gabrielle even told their parents about the Flamels' interest in us, which as expected had the two very intrigued. But eventually it became late in the afternoon, and we sadly had to say our goodbyes.
"It's been a pleasure meeting you all," Sam said as we prepared to depart and head back to the hotel to drop off our newly bought items before returning to the Flamel's for an evening meal and lesson.
"If you ever feel like it, send us an owl," I offered. "Both Harry and myself would be glad to write back."
"It would be a good way to practice your English. And your handwriting," Mrs. Delacour mused in amusement as she looked at her daughters.
"My English is fine!" Fleur retorted.
"I agree, it's quite good," Delilah confirmed.
Mrs. Delacour just shrugged, but I could see she liked the idea. And from the calculating gleam in Gabrielle's eyes, she was going to be sending Harry a lot of letter in the future.
"That was fun," I declared once we were back in the hotel.
"It was," Harry agreed.
"I'll bet it was," Sam said with a grin. Even Delilah was smiling at him.
He shot us a suspicious glare, knowing that we would be teasing him about Gabrielle for many days to come, before sagging in defeat.
"Whatever," he muttered, trying to pretend he didn't care. He couldn't quite pull off sulking, it just made him look like he was pouting, which was very adorable.
'What I wouldn't give for a camera,' I thought to myself. 'Actually, that's an idea… I don't think Harry has any photographs of himself. I highly doubt the Dursleys would have taken any.'
I'd seen a photo booth at the airport when we'd arrived, and a couple here and there in the streets of mundane Paris. I decided then and there we'd visit one at some point to immortalize some memories before flying back to London.
For now, though, it was time to relax for a bit before one final dinner with the Flamels.
...
"I'm full," I groaned, leaning back in my chair. I probably shouldn't have had all that cheese, or that third serving of desert. But it was too good!
"I've never eaten snails before," Sam admitted. "And I never thought they'd taste this good. You're a master of cooking, Mrs. Flamel!"
"Agreed, you put five-star restaurants to shame!" Delilah praised, wiping her mouth with a napkin.
"Why, thank you, dearies. You both certainly know how to flatter an old woman," Perenelle chuckled.
"Everything was delicious," I praised, Harry bobbing his head in agreement. The meal had been amazing. There'd been an amazing cheese platter to start with, followed by ratatouille made with vegetables from Perenelle's own garden, and some escargot, also hand raised by the woman. For the main course there'd been a whole cooked sea bass on a bed of asparagus, and filet mignon that practically melted in the mouth. Complimented with thirty-year old champagne from the actual region of Champagne, along with a pudding made from dragon eggs and unicorn milk.
The Flamels had cooked everything from scratch, showing off the talents they'd gained after centuries of practice. And they'd certainly impressed us. It was definitely a great way to end our trip.
"Anyone care for a nightcap? Or perhaps something to calm your stomachs?" Perenelle offered.
"Sounds lovely," I said, accepting the cup of tea she handed out.
The rest of the group also accepted. We were British, after all. How could we possibly refuse free tea?
"So, I've been meaning to ask, but are there other immortals?" I asked curiously as we relaxed with some nice herbal tea, the post dinner bliss fading a bit.
"A few. Every so often, somebody stumbles into a method to extend their life," Nicholas admitted. "Though most do not last more than a century or two beyond their natural lifespan."
"What? Why not?" Sam asked, perplexed.
"The human mind is not meant to withstand centuries worth of information," Perenelle replied, sipping at her drink. "Unless you have a way to deal with memories, such as advanced Occlumency skills, then the mind breaks down. Or you end up distracted at a critical moment when your brain reminds you of something from decades ago."
"Poor, dumb Lawrence," Nicholas sighed. "He lived to the age of four-hundred and ninety-six, but died in a potion accident when the smell of the flowers he was chopping up reminded him of his wedding centuries prior. He didn't add the ingredients in time, and the potion exploded, melting him alive."
"Ew," Harry winced.
"You'd think more witches and wizards would learn Occlumency, in that case," Delilah said. I nodded. Even if you weren't aiming to be immortal, having near-perfect memory recall was far too valuable a skill to simply ignore.
"Yes, one would assume," Perenelle said with a shake of her head, despairing at the idiocy of the magical world.
"I still think they should teach it in schools. Or at least have it as an elective!" Nicholas grumbled.
"I'm definitely going to suggest it to my friends," Harry claimed, and the elderly couple nodded in agreement, pleased by his idea.
"Hmph! Good! Anyways, back to your question… I think there are twenty-nine people who've managed to extend their life beyond what is normal," Nicholas said, scratching his chin. "Not counting Pear and myself."
"Actually, it's only twenty-three, now," Perenelle said softly.
"Oh, that's right. Fucking Grindelwald, Nazis, and Communist bastards," Nicholas growled. I swallowed nervously. How furious must the alchemist be if he was able to display that much emotion despite the deadening of his senses due to his own immortality?
...
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