The Valiance of the Alchemist (Fred and George series) ✔

Chapter 4

Thankfully, a fit of coughing from Perenelle's window brought me back to my purpose. Due to the strange reaction, I chose that it would be better to return first to the disturbing collection of dead animals that I had been keeping on hand for experimentation before administering the serum to my love. I chose Perenelle's long-deceased horse, the largest of the lot.

In a manner of speaking, it was a success. The animal did, in fact, come back from the dead, just not as I had hoped. Still decayed, the mare reared on its hind legs and growled at me, like a wolf. Then, its cloudy, white eyes gazed into mine, and I was instantly ensnared by horrifying visions. It wasn't until the horse fled hours later that I was freed. In hindsight, I should have destroyed it right there, but I was drawn back to Perenelle, and to the questions that raged on about the function of the elixir I had created.

I resolved to believe that if the potion could turn iron to gold and refashion the dead into disturbing monsters, it could quite possibly transform anything into the greatest possible version of itself, whether good or evil. Which meant that it could, perchance, heal the sick and the cursed. But after the visions I had seen from the rotted and skeletal mare, I decided that I could not risk placing Perenelle in further harm. Therefore, I tested it on a living creature — myself.

I lifted my eyes to the full moon and tipped back the vial of elixir into my mouth. It was tasteless. I reached for my wand, ready to end my life with a killing curse if I felt anything close to what I had seen in the mare. But then I felt it. The sting of resting pain was gone from my hand. The cut had healed. Just to be sure, I took a set of sheers from the shelf and sliced it open once more. Before I could reach for the vial to drink down the rest of the elixir, my pain vanished. I wiped the blood free and saw that all signs of the cut were gone. The elixir had worked.

Somehow, the combination of my blood with the potion from the Resurrection Stone had created this elixir of life. Purely by accident, I had fashioned something beyond all imagining. Due to the method of how it was created, replication was next to impossible. And yet that was a factor I didn't need to consider because my life giving elixir would never run dry. For that is the purpose of the weeping stone. I thought quickly of the Alchemical Gathering and how the usage of blood in potion-making was being considered a Dark Art, specifically Black Magic. The disturbance of the mare was more than enough proof of that. But the time for reflection and guilt had passed. If I could heal myself, I could heal Perenelle.

As I raced up to the house, confident in its effectiveness and running out of time, I brought Perenelle the elixir of life. I cannot recall much about that moment. She was out of candles, and I had forgotten my wand in the shed. But I am thankful that her bedroom was dark, so my heart would not have to suffer in seeing her once perfect skin now grayed and festering from the Black Death.

After administering the elixir, I allowed her to sleep. I slept, myself. And when I woke, I thought I was still dreaming. Standing over me, with the most honest and appreciative smile, was my Muggle — my Perenelle — perfectly healed.