"You finally made it back. I thought you were going to miss them."
Nicolas Flamel's wife, Perenelle Flamel, rose to greet him.
The old couple shared a gentle embrace, then returned hand in hand to the chairs in the sitting room.
Perenelle looked slightly younger than Nicolas Flamel, her pale hair impeccably groomed.
She was an elegant lady, and the long years had lent her an added air of tranquil dignity.
Perenelle's elegant bearing was exactly like that of the two guests in the sitting room.
"Welcome, Madame Maxime."
Nicolas Flamel looked toward one of the tall guests. "How many years has it been since we last met?"
Olympe Maxime was a half-giant. When she stood to greet Nicolas Flamel, she nearly touched the ceiling.
Strangely enough, though she was towering in stature, her features were quite handsome, with delicate features set in her olive-toned face.
In terms of height, perhaps only Hagrid could compete with Madame Maxime.
"About ten years," Madame Maxime said in a richly textured contralto. "Last year, I heard that the Philosopher's Stone had been attacked, and I had been worried ever since. I wanted to come and see you. I'm glad you are both well."
Madame Maxime bowed to Nicolas Flamel, casting an enormous shadow that nearly enveloped the couple.
Her hair was swept back and gathered into a gleaming bun near the nape of her neck, sparkling beneath the lamplight.
"I'm also very happy to see old friends like you." Nicolas Flamel pressed a hand downward, signaling Madame Maxime to sit. "And of course, I'm also glad to meet this young lady."
As he spoke, Nicolas Flamel turned to look at the girl sitting quietly beside Madame Maxime.
She was the other guest.
The girl had a cascade of lustrous silver hair falling to