3 New Allies
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2 June 1995 Little Whinging.
The next morning began for me with a rather delicate knock on the door. But instead of the usual cry of "Get up, boy," the man standing outside the door confined himself to knocking only. Quickly dressing and brushing my teeth, I went down to the kitchen, where, in my usual place on the table, I found a surprisingly good breakfast that was as large as my relatives' portions. With a slight look of surprise on my face, I took a seat at the table, concentrating on my breakfast. Apparently it was the Dursleys' way of saying thank you. Although I didn't have much hope for peace with the people who hated magic, I could count on some sort of neutrality now. My aunt and uncle, who saw magic not only as something that frightened them, but also as a tangible benefit, could now treat me a little differently.
- Uncle, Dudley," I handed them both a flask of Slender Body Potion. - You can take the second portion and give Dudley the first. Tomorrow you'll have another batch for Dudley, and that's it - you won't be needing this potion anymore.
His uncle looked longingly at the rest of his uneaten breakfast, the steaming mug of coffee, gulped, and tipped the contents of the flask into his mouth, running out of the kitchen. His cousin shook the flask curiously, his chubby fingers clutching it tightly, his eyes a curious mixture of greed and apprehension as Uncle Vernon's torment last night could be heard throughout the house.
After finishing my scrambled eggs and lard and drinking my coffee, I washed my dishes and went out into the garden, pretending not to notice the hidden watcher. Neither Auntie nor Dudley said a word to me, apparently still undecided about how to treat me if I didn't look at them with hatred or threaten them with a wand. Sitting down on the grass near one of the flowerbeds, I tried to withdraw completely into myself, to immerse myself in meditation.
At half past eleven, I went into the house without closing the door behind me. Quickly going upstairs to my room, I called softly:
- Dobby!
- Harry Potter! Dobby is so happy to see the great Harry Potter! - With a clap, the elf who had appeared next to my bed was jumping up and down with joy. - What can Dobby do for the great Harry Potter, sir?
- Dobby, for the umpteenth time, please stop calling me great! - The elf's ears drooped disappointedly.
- 'Is Harry's master angry with Dobby?
I scribbled a small letter to the goblins, sealing it with my signature and a drop of blood that had fallen onto the parchment from my pierced finger.
- No, I'm not angry with you. Take two hundred galleons from my account with the goblins, and order me a good pair of trousers and some white shirts and summer shoes from Madame Malkin-I saw something similar in a corner of one of the halls. All of the finest materials. Then bring them here. But wait... - I stopped the elf who was preparing to disappear. - Buy me another bouquet of white roses. Exchange the rest of the money from the goblins for Muggle pounds.
The elf disappeared, only to reappear in the room half an hour later, after I'd spent on my bath, with several packages and an elegant bouquet of several white roses. The elf had cast an unfading spell on the flowers at my request. Dressing quickly, I looked at myself in the mirror. A snap of the elf's fingers made the few creases that had appeared on my clothes smooth out. Slipping on my invisibility cloak, I stepped through the open door into the garden.
At the same time. London. Juvenile Magic Control, Observation Room.
- Look, more traces of elven magic in the Little Winning area. - Michael Connolly, the surveillance duty officer for the Juvenile Magic Control Department, looked away from the huge desk on which a map of England was projected.
His partner, Daniel Murphy, squinting myopically, stepped closer, examining the enlarged piece of the image.
- The enchantments must have messed something up again. - He shook his head. - Let's make a note to have the scientists check the workings of the spells, where would a House elf come from in a Muggle house?
- Mm-hmm, especially since in all the two years I've worked here, there's never been the slightest trace of magic in this town.
- So something's gone wrong somewhere again," the duty officer said phlegmatically, brewing coffee. - Don't write in the magic log, or we'll make a mockery of ourselves to the whole department again, and Matilda will yell.
* * *
Without taking off my robe, I took the train to London, where I dropped the magic cloth in a deserted cul-de-sac, tucking it into my pocket. Catching a taxi, I headed for the restaurant - it was forty minutes before the appointed time.
It took me a while to get into the restaurant, which was glittering with patterned glass, and I had never met a girl in a restaurant before, much less one older than me. Finally, having made up my mind, under the ironic glances of the guards standing at the entrance, I went inside.
- Good afternoon, young gentleman, did you book a table? - The girl in a strict blouse and knee-length skirt opened a small notebook.
- No, but I am interested in a table in the private room. - Remembering an episode I had once seen on TV, before my uncle came to his senses and chased me out of the lounge, I handed the receptionist a note.
The girl, already with a little more respect in her gaze, led me into a small office, where there was a table for two wrapped in a white lace tablecloth.
- At exactly two o'clock a charming girl should come in, she'll say she's looking for me..." I tried not to give in to embarrassment, despite the receptionist's understanding smile.
- It'll be done, mister. - The girl, leaving a silvered paper folder with menus in front of me and showing me where the call bell was, walked away, leaving me alone with the nervous tic that had started. Frankly speaking, I had not even thought about what I was going to say to Fleur, and how our conversation would go, and the fact that I would be in a separate room talking to a beautiful girl, much older than myself - caused considerable embarrassment and shyness.
Calling the waitress, I ordered myself "something as invigorating as possible, but without alcohol". A few minutes later, a fogged black metal can with lightning bolts on the walls was opened in my presence and poured into a large glass, to which freshly squeezed orange juice was generously added a second later. The bubbling, almost boiling icy liquid flowed sweet and sour into my stomach, causing a real explosion inside. After a couple of minutes, the Muggle potion worked on me just as well as the invigorating elixir - my head rumbled a little, and then everything around me became unusually sharp, my heart pounded faster, and I wanted to jump on my broom and fly a few laps around the stadium, dodging bludgers.
At last Fleur came through the door with the receptionist, dressed in a marvellous summer dress of blue silk. She looked absolutely stunning without the usual wizard's robe, even though the Weil spell was much weaker on me than it was on Ron, who was drooling at the stadium at the sight of the Bulgarian mascots.
The cocktail boiling in my blood made me jerk out of my seat and hurry towards the girl with the bouquet in my hands, bowing slightly.
Fleur's astonished eyebrows showed that my manoeuvre was unexpected.
- Fleur, glad you could make it here," despite the stimulant, I struggled to hold the girl's gaze and not stammer with embarrassment.
- Harry, you are gallant," the girl laughed, inhaling the scent of the bouquet.
I almost fell back in my seat, my heart pounding even harder with excitement, and the conversation promised to be difficult.
We were silent for a while, looking at the menu, and finally, having made an order and waited for the waitress who brought a light snack, wine and juice for me to leave the room, we started talking at the same time:
- So what was it you wanted to tell me about, Harry?
- You're so beautiful, Fleur," another line from some silly auntie's TV show came in handy. A sly smile was the answer to the simple compliment, and Veela brought her wine glass to her lips.
- Honestly, I don't even know how to start this conversation, Fleur, I'm sorry you had to come back to England because of me. - I squirmed uncomfortably in my chair, trying not to look the girl in the eye.
- Harry, I came here because you saved my little sister at the bottom of the lake and because I'd love to be your friend," the girl touched my arm affectionately.
- Thank you," I was relieved by her affectionate voice. - But before I tell you, I'd ask you to swear that no one will hear this from you-I wouldn't want anyone to beat it out of you with the same Serum.
Fleur, who was in a businesslike mood, realised that this was a serious matter, pulled out her wand and spoke the necessary words.
I pulled myself together, took a good sip of juice, and began to tell her about how I'd been sitting in the corridor the night after the tournament, how I'd seen Ron and Hermione, how I'd followed them into the Headmaster's office, and what I'd heard. Fleur grew darker and darker with each sentence, and when I mentioned the potion for Ginny and me, the girl hissed something in French under her breath. I didn't notice a single tear running down my cheek as I spoke; I was exhausted and silent, not looking up.
- Now I don't know what to do next. I can't turn to either my godfather or another of my father's best friends, because I don't know how loyal they are to Dumbledore. If I make a mistake, they'll just wipe my memory and pour potions into me until I'm a puppet of the Headmaster and the redhead family. And then they'll probably just put me in front of the Dark Lord without any preparation, as they've done in all our meetings, and Voldemort will kill me.
- You know, Harry," Fleur's accent dropped dramatically in her speech, her voice shaking with excitement. - I don't even know what to say right now. - The Frenchwoman drained her glass like a glass of water. She was interrupted by a waitress with a trolley full of plates and bowls. Looking at our frozen faces, she deftly distributed the plates on the table between us and rolled the trolley out.
Having had time to think, the girl tried to express her feelings.
- What you've told me is terrible. I think it's dangerous for you to be in England, Harry," she looked at me seriously. - If you agree, I don't think maman would object to your going to the Delacour house in France for the whole summer, or even for the whole school year. My father holds a fairly high position in the French Ministry of Magic, and the fate of the Boy Who Survived and my friend would worry him as much as me, I think. If you don't mind, I'd like to pass your story on to my father.
- I'd hate to cause you any unnecessary trouble, Fleur.
- Harry, look on the bright side," Fleur leaned back in her chair, clinking the stem of her glass. - Even aside from the fact that I want to be your mate-and Father will mean it if you lose the fight with the Unnamable-it's hardly limited to England alone. Sooner or later, the Deathstalkers will start terrorising other European countries as well, and my father will find it much more advantageous to nip the potential threat in the bud.
- Well, you can tell your father about it," the magic surrounding us changed the effect of Fleur's vow.
- Maybe he'll think of something to help," she said, looking at me sympathetically.
- Fleur, tell me honestly, who do you see me as-Harry Potter or the Boy Who Survived, the national hero? - I barely forced myself to look the girl in the eye, thinking I was about to get hit with a glass and some other curse.
Fleur frowned, but then the crease in her forehead smoothed out sharply.
- Harry," she began in a soft voice. - To me, you are Harry Potter, the one who saved my sister, and my friend. Father and mother will consider that first too. But no matter how much you refuse, you are still the Boy Who Survived, the man who withstood Voldemort's Avada and sent him into obscurity for years. And you can't escape that, most people think of you that way," the girl looked at me sympathetically, as if she wanted to take away some of my pain.
- Then what are we going to do? - I looked at Fleur with more confidence.
- Well... - the Frenchwoman smiled slyly. - First we'll enjoy a delicious romantic meal in a room just for two, drink some wine, and then-" Her voice took on a purring tone. - Harry, I'm kidding! - she laughed when she saw me blush. - You're blushing so cute I couldn't help myself.
We left the restaurant after we had enjoyed our lunch and the excellent wine.
- Let's meet at the same time tomorrow in the park next to this restaurant, Harry. My father will be able to prepare an international portkey, and we can be transported to France, to Delacourt House, unnoticed by the Order.
