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HP Chapter 43: A Secret That Can’t Be Told
🕑 Added 2025-08-18 15:45:47 +0000 UTCThe Louvre wasn’t too crowded today, it was Monday, after all. Most visitors were tourists in large tour groups, with only a few individuals wandering the museum alone.
Anne had read several books and maps about the Louvre’s collections and was already familiar with the stories and locations of many exhibits. Leisurely, she guided Fanny along a route she had planned around some of the more interesting artifacts.
“Take a look at this stone,” Anne said, pointing. “It might look like a dull black rock, but it’s actually the Code of Hammurabi. It's over 3,700 years old, commissioned by a king from ancient Babylon, one of the four great ancient civilizations…” She began to explain the history of the artifact in English.
Fanny listened intently. Anne’s stories were always engaging and insightful, and Fanny often felt like she was learning something new just by being around her. Passersby occasionally paused to glance at them, it wasn’t every day you saw two young girls calmly touring the museum while chatting in fluent English.
“So, that’s why written law is more reliable than unwritten rules…” Anne was mid-sentence when a familiar voice interrupted her.
“Oh my gosh, Merlin’s beard! Fanny!? Anne!?” someone exclaimed, rushing toward them. Anne didn’t have time to react before she was suddenly pulled into a tight hug.
Fanny cried out in surprise as well. “Merlin’s beard! Hermione? What are you doing here!?”
The one hugging Anne was none other than Hermione, whom they hadn’t seen in over two months. She released Anne, equally stunned. “I should be asking you! What are you doing here, in Paris!?”
Behind Hermione, two adults jogged up. Anne recognized them from their brief encounter in Diagon Alley: the Grangers.
Hermione quickly made introductions. “These are my parents. I’m on vacation in France with them. Mum, Dad, this is my friend from school, Anne Reeve, you met her once in Diagon Alley. And this is Fanny Charles.”
Anne and Fanny greeted them politely, and the Grangers smiled warmly in return. They each gave a brief explanation of what brought them to Paris.
“You’ve been in Paris this whole summer?” Hermione asked in amazement. “And you have an aunt here?”
Anne offered a vague explanation, but it still left Hermione full of questions. Thankfully, Fanny stepped in with a cheerful suggestion that Hermione and her parents join them for the rest of their Louvre visit.
Fanny had said, “Anne’s been in Paris for over two months. She spent two whole days showing me around and was an amazing tour guide. Since you’re here on vacation and probably not that familiar with the place, just follow her!”
She even shared the schedule Anne had planned for the day. Unsurprisingly, Hermione readily agreed to the idea.
And so, Anne took on the role of guide once again.
By lunchtime, the five of them sat by the window in a colonnade café on Place du Carrousel. The sun bathed the Louvre in golden light, and the glass pyramid designed by I.M. Pei gleamed brightly. Tourists lounged around the fountains just outside.
Fanny glanced out the window and grinned. “Anne, this café you picked has the perfect view of the pyramid.”
“I also really enjoyed all the stories you told about the exhibits,” Hermione added.
Her parents nodded in agreement, though they were mostly thrilled Hermione had unexpectedly reunited with a school friend in Paris.
Anne scratched her nose and laughed. “Fanny, you’re exaggerating. I only read a few books about the Louvre’s collections and did a bit of prep last night. As for this café, I’ve eaten here before, and the food was great. You guys should give it a try.” She eagerly took the menus from the waiter and started recommending dishes.
Hermione and Fanny exchanged amused glances and smiled knowingly.
After a hearty lunch, Fanny persuaded Hermione to spend the afternoon touring with them. She promised the Grangers she’d have Hermione back at their hotel by 9 p.m. and gave them Anne’s aunt’s address and phone number without hesitation.
The Grangers were happy to agree. Their afternoon plan was to go shopping on the Champs-Élysées, so Hermione’s absence wouldn’t be a big deal. Besides, they were simply delighted she had run into friends here in France.
But Anne, upon hearing Fanny blurt out her aunt's address and phone number so easily, couldn’t help thinking Fanny was a terrible friend. Oh no, she thought. I can already picture the flood of letters this summer, or worse, phone calls every few days.
After they finished touring the Louvre, at 3:45 p.m., Anne turned to Fanny and Hermione. “Next up on our itinerary is a scenic tour along the Seine River. We have two options: we can either rent bikes and ride along the riverbanks, or take a boat tour. Either way, we’ll take the Metro back. If we cycle, we’ll return via Line 1; if we take the boat, we’ll return on Line 7. What do you think?”
Fanny answered instantly, “Bikes! I can ride, and it sounds fun!”
Anne noticed Hermione blush slightly, ah, the brilliant scholar must not be very athletic. She wasn’t much of a Quidditch fan either, and apparently, she didn’t know how to ride a bike.
Anne didn’t want to ruin the mood, so she took Hermione’s hand and led her toward the bike rental shop. “This is a great cycling route. I’ll give you a lift, don’t worry, I won’t let you fall. I’m pretty good on a bike. I’ve been riding one to class these past two months.”
“Class?” Hermione caught that last word with interest.
Fanny gasped. “Anne? You’re taking classes? Why didn’t I know this? Were you keeping it from me?”
Anne laughed awkwardly. “Ahem, not really hiding it, I just started recently. I’ve been learning piano and guitar…”
“Why? My grandmother forced me to learn piano. It’s so boring…” Fanny groaned.
“It’s just a little hobby. Ah, here we are.”
The shop was small and sat right along the street. Several bikes with Roman numeral plates were parked out front.
Anne entered, spoke briefly in French, paid, and came back with two keys. She’d shown off her French at the café earlier, so Hermione wasn’t surprised anymore. Fanny had studied a bit of French too, but only the basics. Anne, on the other hand, had lived in a French-speaking environment for over two months, and with her near-photographic memory, basic daily conversation was no longer a problem.
Anne mounted a pale blue bicycle and motioned for Hermione to hop on the back. Hermione sat sideways.
“Ready? Hold onto me, it’ll be more stable that way,” Anne reminded her. Hermione wrapped her arms around Anne’s waist, feeling the rise and fall of her breath.
Anne turned to Fanny. “Stick close. You can ride side-by-side when the road’s straight, but fall in behind me for turns, alright?”
Fanny nodded, and they were off. That afternoon, they cycled along the Seine, stopping now and then to enjoy the view, buy drinks, sit on benches, guess the origins of tourists on the riverboats, and cross bridges while Anne shared historical facts. Eventually, they looped around the river and returned their bikes.
Anne checked her watch. 6:32 p.m. They returned the bikes and walked to the Metro. When they reached the area near Aunt Diana’s house, it was exactly 7:00.
Anne pointed to a white townhouse across the road. “That’s my Aunt Diana’s place. But we’re not eating there tonight, I’m treating you two to dinner somewhere nice.”
She led them to a cozy street-side restaurant with a green, weathered door framed by four glass panes. As she opened it, a bell above the door chimed.
The inside was small, enough for about 30 to 40 diners. A piano took up a sizable portion of the room. The lighting was warm and soft, with four vintage oil lamps in the corners. A half-wall window let in the last rays of sunset, casting a golden glow across the restaurant. Despite the warmth in color, the room was cool thanks to the fans on the walls. Only two tables were occupied.
“Bienvenue,” greeted an older gentleman in a suit and bowtie, a white napkin draped over his arm. When he saw Anne, he smiled and switched to English. “Anne, what a rare sight, you’ve brought friends today?”
Anne returned the smile. “Mr. Vegas, these are my friends: Hermione Granger and Fanny Charles.”
He gave them both a polite nod. “Welcome, young ladies. I believe this table will suit you well.”
He led them to a four-person table and set out cutlery. Anne took a seat, her friends still a bit lost in the moment.
Mr. Vegas handed each of them a menu. Anne placed hers aside. “Order whatever you like, the food here is guaranteed to be good.”
Mr. Vegas chuckled. “You flatter me, Anne. But indeed, anything you wish is no trouble.”
Hermione didn’t even open her menu. “Anne, haven’t you only been in France for two months?”
Fanny, who was looking at the menu, glanced up curiously.
Anne smiled as she watched Mr. Vegas return to fetch an extra setting. “Well, he’s the owner here. I happened to walk by this place once, came in for a meal, and fell in love with the food. I’ve been coming back ever since.”
Figures, Hermione and Fanny thought, exchanging a look.
Mr. Vegas came back and grinned. “She’s being modest. Honestly, Anne’s more like my teacher.”
The girls looked at him in surprise.
“My piano teacher,” he clarified.
Anne muttered, “Don’t exaggerate, I just corrected a small mistake…”
“For me, that was a huge improvement,” he said sincerely.
The girls leaned forward eagerly for more. Since the restaurant wasn’t busy, he pulled up a chair and sat down.
Anne tried to stop him. “You still have a business to run…”
He smiled warmly. “I didn’t open this place for business. Sharing a story with two lovely ladies is much more rewarding, isn’t it?”
Anne rolled her eyes. This guy... Last time, she’d casually pointed out an error in his playing, and he’d talked her ear off for nearly two hours.
Fanny and Hermione put down their menus. Clearly, the story was more appealing than dinner. Anne raised a hand. “Vegas, keep it short, I’m starving.”
He laughed and told the tale of how he self-taught piano for a year, how he met Anne when she started coming in regularly, and how she corrected a mistake in his piece. They became friends after that.
“I always felt something was off in that melody,” he said, “but I never understood why, until Anne pointed it out.”
“It’s a common beginner mistake,” Anne shrugged. “I made it too, which is probably why I recognized it.”
Vegas looked at her with admiration. “Anne, I’ve heard many piano pieces, but the way you play,”
“Ahem, can we please order now?” Anne interrupted, rubbing her stomach. Why did I ever talk to him so much…
Sensing her mood, Vegas nodded. “Right, time to eat.”
They ordered quickly with Anne’s help. When Vegas left, Fanny turned to Anne, beaming. “I’ve never seen you play piano, why don’t you show us?”
“No,” Anne replied flatly.
“But dinner won’t arrive for a while!” Hermione added, equally curious.
“Besides,” Fanny pressed on, “we’re both leaving Paris tomorrow. This is the perfect atmosphere!”
Seeing Mr. Vegas return from the kitchen, Hermione boldly said, “I’m sure he’d love to hear a song.”
“I’d be honored,” Vegas chimed in. “Would you play something for us?”
Anne sat at the piano and opened the lid. She glanced back at them, momentarily blank. Fine, she thought, just one piece. But what should I play? Her fingers moved on their own, and she began. The melody built, the tempo quickened, and with the final note, silence fell.
Applause broke out. Anne rose and closed the lid.
“That was beautiful,” Mr. Vegas said. “What’s the name of that piece? I’ve never heard it before.”
Anne paused. “It’s called… ‘Secret.’”
The three exchanged confused looks. Anne’s gaze drifted back to the piano. “That’s the title, ‘Secret.’ It was composed by an Eastern musician, part of a story.”
“What story?” Fanny perked up immediately.
Anne began slowly, between bites of dinner, telling the tale of a gifted boy, a mysterious girl, a song that could only be played in an old music room… and a secret.
She finished with, “And that’s the story.”
No one spoke for a moment.
Anne checked her watch, 8:25. She had been eating as she spoke, and now she was the last one finished. “Mr. Vegas, check please. That was delicious, as always. I need to get my friends home.”
Vegas smiled. “For such a magical story and song, dinner’s on me tonight. Don’t refuse.”
Anne sighed. “Alright, thank you. As you wish.” Hermione and Fanny also thanked him.
As they stepped outside, Anne waved goodbye and led the girls down the darkening street. Streetlamps glowed warmly along the road.
Aunt Diana wasn’t home yet, so they waited outside. Soon, a black car pulled up.
Hermione asked before getting in, “That story and song, how do you know them?”
Anne smiled mysteriously. “It’s a secret.”
She waved as the car pulled away. “Call me when you get to the hotel!”
