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Harry Potter Squib Tales Chapter 40
🕑 Added 2024-06-10 17:00:06 +0000 UTCChapter 40: Learning the Mysteries of Magic
When the morning rolled around – far too early for my taste – Delilah was up and raring to go at the crack of dawn. She was excited, and why wouldn’t she be? She was going to be learning from legendary teachers, after all.
‘Still, I wish she’d be a touch less exuberant about it,’ I griped to myself as I poured myself a third cup of coffee from the hotel’s breakfast buffet.
I hadn’t been able to stay in bed, not with Delilah excitedly bouncing around the hotel room.
“This is your own fault, you know,” Delilah scolded me, though there was a teasing note in her voice and she was watching me guzzle my caffeinated drink with a smirk.
“I know, but how could I resist the chance to talk shop with the Nicholas Flamel?” I replied with a shrug.
That was another reason I wasn’t too miffed about Delilah’s peppy mood. I’d been the same last night, and it was my undoing in the end. Couldn’t really throw stones when I was in my own glass house.
A few minutes later, Harry and Sam came down to join us, rubbing the sleep from their eyes.
“You two are up early,” Sam greeted us.
“Some of us were more excited than others,” I drawled.
“I know how that feels. I’m not sure how I fell asleep last night after dinner,” Sam laughed.
“Me too,” Harry said, bobbing his head in agreement.
Everyone ate breakfast, and then we headed off to the Flamels’ home. They’d given me the password for their private floo when I’d eventually left, and we hopped into the green flames and were whisked off.
“Ah, right on time,” Nicholas Flamel greeted us. He was sitting in a rocking chair facing the fireplace as we came tumbling out of it.
“I don’t like floo travel,” Harry griped. “Give me a broom any day!”
“You’ll get used to it,” the legendary alchemist told us.
“Really?” Sam asked hopefully.
Nicholas Flamel just smirked, and I shook my head. “He’s lying, it never gets any easier,” I warned my friends, crushing their spirits.
The old man just cackled a bit, before standing up and walking over to the dining table we’d drank tea at last night.
“Well, come on then, park your pants in a chair, and we’ll get started,” he announced.
“Today, we will be focusing on Occlumency. Namely, correcting what you’ve been doing wrong, and explaining a bit about the nature of this unique mental discipline,” Nicholas Flamel stated as we hastily sat down at the table. “First off, who here can tell me what Occlumency is?”
Harry raised his hand, and the husband of the Flamel duo snorted in amusement at that but nodded at the boy and motioned for him to speak.
“It’s the art of protecting and organizing the mind,” Harry said.
“Correct. A simple, but concise answer,” Nicholas agreed. “However, Occlumency is not merely one form or style, but in fact a broad term to describe any mental discipline that does what young Harry says. There are many different variations of the technique with their own names and histories in the world, and many different types of meditation, but they all share the same goal.”
“Then what is Legilimancy?” Delilah asked.
The ancient alchemist put a hand on his chin. “In layman’s terms, it is Occlumency’s opposite. It is the art of projecting your consciousness and delving into another person’s mind. However, it is not perfect, and it requires constant eye contact to work, and it can only read surface thoughts and emotions with any reliability. There are ways to draw more information forth from a target, but in general, it’s hardly the most impressive magic out there. Still, it is a magical ability that doesn’t need a wand, and can be learned rather than having to be born with it, thus the art has immense value. A duelist could use Legilimancy to read their opponent’s next move, or an Auror could pluck vital details about an investigation from a criminal’s mind. The only drawback is it does require a tremendous amount of practice to use properly. And I have heard of natural born Legilimancers going insane from over stimulus.”
He let us digest that information before continuing on with his lecture.
“As for how it works… have you ever heard the saying ‘the eyes are the windows to the soul?’” Nicholas asked. “That is a phrase that best describes Legilimancy. You will come to find that, as you delve deeper into the mysteries of magic, that sometimes, myths and superstitions have more power and influence on magic than some realize or give credit to. But as fascinating as that particular topic is, that is not what we’re discussing today. Right now, we’re learning how to properly structure the mind with Occlumency.”
“Occlumency is not a matter of building up walls in your mind, nor is it for crudely squashing down emotions so they do not affect you, it is organizing your thoughts. A well-ordered mind is truly powerful, for it can allow you to recall with perfect clarity distant memories, boost the speed at which you can think, and of course, help you navigate through emotional turmoil so you can come to grips with it,” Nicholas stated.
“So that’s how Occlumency is supposed to defend against Legilimancy. I think I get it, now! You’re not blocking someone’s entry into your mind, you are redirecting them away from the memories you don’t want them to see,” I realized.
“You catch on quick,” the alchemist praised, and I felt a bit of pride swell up in my chest. “You can block Legilimancy with advanced enough Occlumency, even throwing them out of your mind entirely, but such advanced applications are far beyond you at this point, and require decades of study and practice.”
“Mr. Flamel, when I was learning about Occlumency, there was mention of something called a Mind Palace,” I brought up after a moment of thought, recalling something from my own studies years ago. “What is that?”
“A Mind Palace is the ultimate expression of Occlumency. It is a mental construct you have created in your mind that acts as a literal inner world of sorts. A person who has made a Mind Palace can literally project themselves inside their own mind and do all sorts of things. From reliving memories as if they’d just happened, to conducting experiments in the privacy of your own mind, unburdened by physical constraints or limitations. I have heard it compared to lucid dreaming while awake. However, the creation of a full Mind Palace is not easy, and even myself and Perenelle only managed to do so after three hundred years of practice,” Nicholas explained, a note of warning in his tone as he finished.
“Oh,” I muttered, disappointed by that revelation.
“Do not be sad, however, as the lesser forms of Occlumency are more than sufficient for protection of mind and memories. Now, from what source did you learn Occlumency?” Nicholas inquired.
“I read it in Greyworth’s Guide to the Mind,” I said. “I taught the methods within to Harry, Sam, and Delilah.”
“Hmm. Greyworth’s method isn’t the worst, but his version of Occlumency is primarily a meditation aide and for sorting and recalling memories. It is not the best for emotional suppression or protecting the mind,” Nicholas replied. “Learning defensive Occlumency is also difficult in the first place as it requires some form of mental attack to deflect as part of the training. It is very much an active defensive measure and has to be used as soon as you feel your mind come under assault.”
“Does that mean you could shake off something like the Imperius if you have a strong enough mind and enough warning?” I asked, earning a shake of the head.
“There is a reason the Imperius Curse is reviled and illegal in every magical polity across the world,” Nicholas stated grimly. “It targets not the mind, but the soul itself, just as the other two Unforgivables do. It is what makes them ‘Unforgivable,’ after all. There is next to no defense against a direct assault on your soul.”
Harry gingerly reached up to his scar, causing the alchemist to give him a sorrowful smile. “The only known ways to resist the Unforgivable Curses is through sacrifice. Pure, unburdened, and freely given. No life debts or compulsions can force such a protection to occur.”
“If that’s the case, then why haven’t there been other survivors of the Killing Curse?” Sam asked softly. “Surely there have been other people who sacrificed their lives for other loved ones?”
“Of course there were. Love is powerful and transcends all cultures. But if the Killing Curse fails once, why would the attacker not try and strike again after the first failed attempt? Or use a different spell? And in the heat of battle, some people might just assume the curse missed them.”
Nicholas sighed, looking tired. “The only reason Young Harry is lauded as the sole survivor is because Voldemort was struck by a rebounding of his own curse which destroyed his body. And that is not normal. It must have been due to something else, something his parents set up beforehand. Whatever ancient ritual they might have conducted to protect their son combined with the act of sacrifice and resulted in a magical effect never seen before. Or at least, never recorded.”
He then coughed delicately. “But perhaps we should return to our lesson on Occlumency, instead of such depressing subjects.”
We all nodded in agreement, and the ancient alchemist gave a small smile. “Wonderful. We shall first go over the development of the proper mindset necessary for a true emotion-blocking Occlumency…”
&&&&&
Over the next few days, Occlumency was not the only thing we learned. The Flamels happily taught us so much more. Magical cooking and potioneering, runecrafting and arithmancy, and most interestingly, magical theory.
“Magic exists. We know this, because we can both see the effects it has on the world, and measure it when it does so. It is a form of energy, not unlike UV rays from the sun or heat generated from our bodies. But what is it, exactly? Where does it come from? Well, that’s a bit trickier.” Nicholas Flamel paced back and forth in front of the four of us as we sat in their home, lecturing us on the nature of magic itself.
“There are two kinds of magic. Ambient, and radiant,” Nicholas explained, and the three of us listened intently.
“Ambient magic refers to the magical energy present in the world around us. It is in the air, and suffuses all matter, from water to minerals to plants and animals. Everything is touched by ambient magic,” Nicholas stated. “Radiant magic, on the other hand, refers to the magical energy generated by all living beings. Every bug and blade of grass has some magic in it that is solely its own, but it is miniscule. As for humans, we also possess it. But wizards, witches, and other magical creatures have it in abundance.”
Flamel tapped his chest. “Now, there are many different interpretations for where radiant magic comes from. Some call it the soul. Others names for it are ‘magic core,’ ‘Chakras,’ ‘Tenketsu,’ and so on. But there is no perfect way to describe radiant magic, as it simply ‘is.’ There are no cores or pathways within the body that can be observed. We simply know magic exists within us.”
He continued, “Radiant magic is like a fingerprint. It is unique, and differs from source to source. The radiant magic of a dragon is vastly different to the radiant magic of a newt. Hence why potions and more advanced topics like Enchanting and Alchemy rely heavily on the properties of the materials being used to produce an effect, and can have wildly different outcomes depending on what is used.”
“Ambient magic however is neutral, and takes on the qualities of the matter it interacts with. This is why certain minerals can have magical properties even though only living things create radiant magic. They’ve absorbed ambient magic,” the famous alchemist explained. “Some people claim that ambient magic originates from the planet itself. They point to the existence of Leylines and Nexus Points as proof of this. And it is true, there are places where ambient magic gathers and seemingly spontaneously generates from. However, in my research I have come to the conclusion that this is not the case. Rather, ambient magic is radiant magic that has been diffused.”
“Like the water cycle? Or the air cycle?” Harry asked, raising his hand some half-remembered science lectures from Woolingsby surfacing in his mind, and Nicholas clapped his hands happily.
“Yes, exactly! Magic is closer to the air cycle than anything else! Just as humans take in oxygen but expel carbon dioxide, which is then processed by plants into more oxygen that is absorbed by living creatures, a living being passively emits tiny amounts of radiant magic all the time, and magical beings release more when performing spells. So where does the magic go when the spell ends?”
“It becomes ambient magic!” Sam exclaimed excitedly.
“Precisely! The shaped radiant magic of a spell unravels and diffuses into ambient magic once its effect is completed, which may eventually be absorbed and used by something else, like a ward or rune system, but it will also fade a bit, decaying further into what I’ve dubbed ‘aether particles.’ Aether particles then clump together in places of low magical activity and will recombine into ambient magic or be reabsorbed by living creatures and become radiant magic. These sites where it happens are known as Leylines, Nexus Points, and so on,” Nicholas explained.
“Then does that make magic a closed system? Meaning there can only ever be a certain amount of people with magical abilities? Or would more people with magical ability mean more radiant magic, and thus more ambient magic, and so on?” I inquired curiously.
“Excellent question, my boy! The answer is, ‘I don’t know.’ From my initial observations, magic seems to be a closed system, yet there are discrepancies that lead me to believe otherwise. As mundane science has proven, matter and energy cannot be created or destroyed, but magic is seemingly able to circumvent this absolute rule at times,” he replied. “There is evidence that living things are producing some amounts of radiant energy that does not originate from absorbed ambient energy, but again, we don’t know for sure. Perhaps the soul itself is the source of radiant magic? Further testing is required.”
Nicholas Flamel rubbed his chin. “At the moment, I would lean towards the ‘more radiant magic means more ambient magic’ hypothesis due to a couple recent studies on magical populations of plants and animals myself and others have made where there is more ambient magic when there are more things capable of producing radiant magic. Take Hogwarts for instance. If not for the presence of that school and the radiant magic of its students and faculty, I highly doubt the lesser and mundane flora and fauna of the Forbidden Forest would be able to sustain things like centaurs, merfolk, and a damn kraken! And there is much evidence to show that when the population ratio between Muggles and Magicals was less severe, and the overall human population of Earth was lower, ambient magic was far less abundant than it is now. More study would be needed one way or the other, in the end, to prove it, but that is what is known at the moment.”
“Fascinating!” I breathed out in awe, and Harry, Sam, and Delilah were nodding their heads along with me in agreement.
We did not just spend our time in France cooped up indoors. Perenelle would take us on tours of the magical wildlands that were preserved and scattered throughout the countryside, teaching us about plants and animals, both magical and mundane.
We were also allowed to go out and do our own exploring, and thanks to the Flamel’s connections, we could have gone practically anywhere we wanted.
Yet our two weeks were sadly going to an end. The memories and knowledge crammed into our heads would last forever. The day after tomorrow we’d be flying back to London.
So, at the moment, we were taking the afternoon off at Rue Magique to search for gifts and souvenirs to bring back home. We’d already grabbed a few mundane items like t-shirts, snow globes, and other knick-knacks from normal Paris, and were now looking at the shops the magical side.
“What do you think, Ed? Would the grease repellent soap work better as a souvenir for my mom, or would an impervious frying pan be nicer?”
“I’m buying some of that grease repellent to make my own version of it. Dish washing will be so much easier with magical soap,” I told him. “And those are both gifts that you would like, buddy.”
“Well, yes, but mom would appreciate them too!” Sam protested. “Can’t get anything too blatantly magical, either, even if she would love an apron that has recipes appear on it as you cook and points out when you make a mistake.”
“Hmm. Why not grab it all? And what about your dad and sister? What are you getting for them?” I asked.
“Dad’s easy. He’s getting one of those always cool pillows. And for sis, it’s a toss-up between a journal with tear resistant pages or a locket that always appears in your pocket if you lose it.”
“I have one of those magical pillows. He’ll definitely like it,” I said. “And Kate will like either of those. Get ‘em both. Future Birthday or Christmas gifts.”
“Eh, why not?” Sam agreed. “What about you, what are you getting?”
“I’m getting a bronze self-stirring cauldron,” I declared. “Mother will love it! It’s the latest version, and her old one is getting a bit stir-crazy.”
“Boo, terrible pun,” Sam said. I just laughed.
“Anyways, I’ve got a couple things of other ideas. The Weasley Twins will like some of the joke items I’m getting, and Ron and Ginny will enjoy the candy,” I continued. “And Harry will be getting a new broom care kit. But don’t tell him! It’s gonna be a surprise for his birthday!”
“Gotcha. And speaking of Harry,” Sam said slowly, looking over my shoulder towards where the boy in question was browsing one of the stalls with Delilah. “He’ll be safe at your home, won’t he?”
“For now,” I nodded. “The Dursleys don’t know where I live, and they don’t care enough to find out. I am worried about Dumbledore showing up, but I’ll deal with it if it happens.”
“Well, keep me appraised on anything that happens, alright?” Sam requested. “And if either of you need help, I’m a phone call away.”
“I know,” I said, smiling at Sam. “You know, I don’t say it often enough, but you’re a good friend.”
“Ah, stop, you’re making me blush!” Sam chuckled sheepishly.
“You know, next year is going to be a real change,” I commented after a bit. “You with your cooking school, me with my business and college… but no matter what, we’ll stick together.”
“Damn straight! You can’t get rid of me that easily!” he declared. Something caught his eye nearby, and he smirked. “And speaking of getting staying in contact, look over there!”
I blinked, confused by his words, and turned to look in the direction he was pointing. I then snorted in amusement as I spotted a familiar pair of Veela walking down the street, one of which had broken into a run at the sight of Harry and was aiming straight for him.
“Harry!” Gabrielle Delacour exclaimed happily as she lunged at him, clinging onto his arm.
“Gabi! What are you doing?!” Fleur shrieked, scandalized at her younger sister’s actions.
“Sis! Look! It’s Harry!” Gabi said.
Harry’s eyes went wide, while Delilah was trying to keep from laughing in disbelief at the scene.
“I’m so sorry!” Fleur apologized as Sam and I walked over.
“Good afternoon, Fleur. Are you out shopping with your sister?” I asked politely. “Oh, and let me introduce you to my girlfriend, Delilah.”
“A pleasure,” the older Veela said, giving a polite bob of her head towards the Delilah, who offered her hand to shake.
“Indeed. It seems you already know the boys,” Delilah replied, and Fleur nodded.
“We met at the Louvre,” she explained. “It seems that my little sister has still not learned how to act in public, though.”
“Ah, it’s fine, she’s young and I’m sure Harry doesn’t mind,” Delilah laughed. The Boy-Who-Lived shot her a betrayed look, which went ignored.
As Delilah and Fleur chatted, Harry discreetly tried to shake Gabrielle off of his arm, but she just clung tighter. It was adorable, although I had a feeling Harry didn’t appreciate the humor of it as much as the rest of us did.
“So, what are you doing today? Shopping?” Gabi asked curiously.
“For souvenirs, yes,” Harry said, resigning himself to his fate.
“Well, there is quite the selection here,” Gabi said. “Maybe I could show you around?”
Harry shrugged and the young Veela happily dragged him off to the stores, the others watching in fond amusement.
“I must say, this place is lovely. And so much to choose from! I feel spoiled for choices,” Delilah said, turning back to the older Veela.
“Yes, there’s nothing quite like the magical bazaar to find a gift or two,” Fleur agreed. “Would like me to show you around? I know where some of the best deals are!”
“Sounds good. Boys, do we have anything else to do today?” Delilah asked us.
“I don’t think we have anything else planned for the day, although Mrs. Flamel might want us to come over for dinner,” Sam said, and I nodded. We didn’t have anything scheduled, so we were free to hang out with the sisters.
“Beg pardon, but did you mention Mrs. Flamel?” Fleur asked, eyes wide.
“Yes,” Sam said.
“Oh, my!” she gasped. “How did you get an invitation to dine with the Flamels?!”
“That is a long story,” I sighed. “Let me tell you about it while you show us around.”
And so I regaled Fleur with an edited version of what had gone down at Hogwarts, and then told her about how the ancient couple had discovered we were in France, and then invited us over. I left out Harry returning the Philosopher’s Stone to the Flamels, not wanting the boy to be targeted by anyone wanting to steal it from him in case word slipped about the whole thing. Still, what I did reveal was enough to have her jaw drop in disbelief and amazement.
“That is… Mon Dieu, a child should not have had to experience such a horrible thing!” Fleur muttered when I’d finished.
“Yes, I agree with you, I’m not happy at all it happened,” I grunted. “But thankfully Harry is safe and in good health.”
“Yes, that is indeed a good thing,” Fleur said, before biting her lip. “But, what you said…”
“It’s true. Voldemort is… can’t really call him alive, but he’s active. And he’s lurking in the shadows,” I said.
“I must tell maman and papa about this,” Fleur muttered to herself, and I nodded in agreement with her idea. A few people knowing the truth wouldn’t matter much, but setting the groundwork for future allies was never a bad thing.
“Hey, this is a depressing topic!” Sam announced out of the blue. “Let’s talk about something else!”
“Like what?” Fleur asked.
“Like, uh, do you have any advice on where to buy some souvenirs that work in either world?” Sam asked, thinking up something off the top of his head.
“I might,” Fleur giggled.
We grabbed Harry and Gabrielle, the latter pouting at having to share the boy’s attention, while the latter was just relieved to be freed from being the sole focus of the prepubescent girl.
Gabrielle did perk up when she was told her and her sister were going to be acting as tour guides for our little group, and the two Veela did a remarkable job of explaining the history of Paris’ magical quarter while also showing us where to get some more excellent goodies.
We had to be careful, though. Our wallets were already rather light after our earlier shopping spree.
As we were talking in front of a candy store that Gabrielle had led us to, I sensed some people approaching us. I could tell by the way the crowd had shifted a bit, allowing a small group of people to get near.
“And who are these people, mon petit Fleur?” a sensual voice called out from behind us, and we turned to find a couple walking arm in arm down the street who’d approached us.
The man was an older gentleman with a slight paunch and a head of brown hair. He had a thin goatee and eyes that glinted in amusement as he looked at the two young Veela, but also contained a sharp look to them as he appraised the rest of. Especially Harry, whom Gabi was clinging to. Despite his out of shape physique, there was muscle tone in his arms, proof of strength and training that was very odd to find amongst magical folk.
The woman was very clearly a Veela, what with her silvery blond hair and impossibly blue eyes. The unearthly beauty was also a giveaway. I had to quickly break eye contact with her and look to the side as I felt her Allure wash over me. Training with the Flamels had taught me how to resist mental affects, even omni-directional ones such as a Veela’s aura, without relying on Occlumency. A lot of it just boiled down to willpower, thinking of something else, and not looking directly at the source.
She was giving us searching looks as well, clearly trying to see if Fleur and Gabrielle were alright and with us willingly, although she hid it better than her companion did.
As for Fleur, she was blushing bright red as she faced the two, clearly embarrassed by the pet name. “Maman! I am not a little girl any more!”
“You will always be our little flower,” the man who had to be her father chuckled. She let out a tiny whine of embarrassment at that, but shook it off and turned to us.
“These are our parents, Mr. and Mrs. Delacour,” Fleur said, before looking back to them. “Maman, papa, these are Harry Potter, Edward Rose, Sam Parson, and Delilah Hunt. They are visiting here from London.”
“Harry Potter?” Mrs. Delacour said, raising an eyebrow at the boy her youngest child had latched onto. Her eyes darted to his forehead, same as her husband, and the Boy-Who-Lived stifled a sigh at that.
“Hello, it’s nice to meet you,” he said instead, politely offering his hand to shake.
The older Delacours shared a flush of embarrassment of their own at blatantly staring at a celebrity before recovering and shaking Harry’s hand, then ours.
“You’ve come to visit Paris for summer break, yes?” Mrs. Delacour guessed, her Allure having been restrained now that she knew we weren’t harassing her daughters. “How have you found it?”
“I like it,” Harry said with a genuine grin. “It’s very colorful and lively. Compared to here, Diagon Alley is kinda boring. And small.”
All four of the Delacours nodded at that, pleased at the praise for their home.
“And how long will you be staying?” the older Veela inquired.
“I’m afraid we’re only here for a few more days,” I informed her. “But we have seen quite a bit.”
“I loved the Louvre!” Harry said excitedly. “It was amazing! We didn’t manage to see everything the first time, so we went back twice more, just to look at it all!”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Mr. Delacour said proudly.
“Oh, right! Gabrielle did mention some of the stuff in there was yours,” Harry recalled.
“I was a Cursebreaker,” Mr. Delacour said, pleased as punch at being recognized by Harry for his contributions. “Worked for Gringotts for a bit, then went freelance. I ended up working with the Louvre more often than not, delivering ancient artifacts to their halls for all to see and enjoy. Now I curate the museum itself.”
He squeezed her wife’s arm fondly. “That’s how I met my lovely darling, in fact. She worked for Gringotts as one of their accountants who oversaw fieldwork and tomb raiding expeditions. Still does, in fact, though she’s out in the field less often these days.”
“It’s much too messy outside in the jungle or desert or wherever the goblins like to dig,” Mrs. Delacour sniffed haughtily, though she wore a playful smirk as she did so. “I let the new hires handle the dirty work.”
‘Huh, seems like history repeats itself,’ I thought to myself. That sounded an awful lot like how Charlie met Fleur in the original timeline. A Cursebreaker and a clerk meeting at Gringotts and falling in love. How sweet!
“I have a friend who works for Gringotts as a Cursebreaker,” I brought up. “He rather likes the job from what I’ve heard.”
“That so? Always good to have new blood!” Mr. Delacour chuckled.
“You are in your First Year at Hogwarts, are you not?” Mrs. Delacour inquired of Harry.
“Going on Second in September,” Harry confirmed.
“How lovely! Beauxbatons starts around the same time. My dear Fleur will be entering her Fourth Year. And Gabrielle will be attending her First Year this coming school year,” Mrs. Delacour said proudly.
“Oh! I have a friend whose sister will also be a First Year,” Harry said.
At that, Gabrielle scowled at the thought of another girl getting close to Harry, which did not go unnoticed by the rest of us. I found it rather amusing, and wondered if Ginny was going to have some competition.
“I’m afraid none of the rest of us attend, or have attended, any magical schools,” I told them. At their confused looks, Sam raised a hand.
“Regular guy, here,” Sam said with a proud smirk.
“Squibs,” Delilah added, putting her arm around mine.
To their credit, the Delacours did not show any looks of disgust or pity, which was the norm back in Magical England upon hearing us reveal that. They seemed surprised, but that quickly faded into acceptance. My opinion of them immediately rose at that.
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.
