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THE VEELA AND HER LION
🕑 Added 2022-10-23 17:48:54 +0000 UTCChapter 7- Revelations and the Wand Weighing Ceremony
Ever since the day his name was obtained from the Goblet of Fire, Harry had returned to Potter Manor. He really needed to be away from the place. Emotions were still running high and he never knew whom he would smother if they tried to get on his nerves.
The Black cousins had been shocked to see Harry return to Potter Manor in the middle of his school week and with no official reason to take care of. Harry didn't speak a word, just gave the two of them a hug and locked himself in his room.
The two of them were worried and continued to worry until the morning newspaper arrived.
Harry waited with a hint of curiosity and fear of their reaction, but was genuinely surprised when Narcissa pulled him into a tight hug, whispering assurances into his ears. His mind was put into an instant ease when the woman didn't judge him for killing a person. Narcissa was quickly becoming a maternal figure to Harry. He would have been devastated if she would have judged him wrong.
Sirius's reaction was a different one compared to Narcissa's. He was calm and collected about it, making sure that he was perfectly fine. He sat him down and gently questioned his feelings and mental state.
He never pried too much, nor did he shy away from his words.
"I still remember the first time I killed Harry. It was not pleasant. I was disgusted with myself. I couldn't bring myself to see my face in the mirror. I was ashamed to show my face to James and Lily.
It took a lot of coaxing from Aunt Dorea and Uncle Charlus to help me back on my feet.
Uncle Charlus spoke the truth.
'There are two kinds of people in this world, Sirius. There are people who should live. Then there are people who need to die. Remember none are innocent. The moment people are pushed into this world, they lose any resemblance to innocence.'
He was right, Harry. Crouch was a scum. A man who took torture to the next level. A man who deserved no second chance and certainly no mercy. You killing him certainly made this world a better place.
He was pretty sure that this issue won't rest. There will be some backlash for his actions.
He was about to leave the breakfast table when he heard a pop. Tippy held a letter in her hand.
"Yous have a letter, Master." Harry took the letter, thanking the elf as he did so.
Harry opened the letter and glanced through the content. The letter was from Hogwarts and Dumbledore was requesting that he return for the wand-weighing ceremony and another event that would take place today.
He placed the letter on the table for the other two to read and went upstairs. He got dressed and after informing Tippy of where he was going, he left back to Hogwarts.
He wondered what was in store today as he began trudging back up to the castle. He walked right towards the staircase, not wanting to speak to anybody. He continued in silence until the second floor when he was stopped by the Headmaster.
"Mr Potter." The Headmaster greeted the young man with a small smile.
"Professor Dumbledore." Harry bowed slightly. He frowned slightly.
"You seem tired, professor." Harry pointed out and it was true. The man seemed extremely tired.
"The downside of living a century, my boy." The two of them began climbing the stairs.
"Is Professor Moody alright?" Harry questioned, breaking the silence.
Dumbledore hummed.
"Yes. Alastor returned to teaching today and I personally made sure that the same mistake doesn't happen twice." Dumbledore assured, even before Harry could ask.
"Do you realize the extent of your actions, my boy?" Dumbledore questioned, breaking the silence again.
"There will be a huge backlash for you, Harry. Fudge and Lucius won't let this rest as easily as you hoped. You will be condemned for your actions."
Harry shrugged. "I know sir. I expected that much. But I think I can manage."
"Very well." Dumbledore whispered softly.
"Do you think this is Tom's work?" Harry questioned.
"I had my doubts. The dark mark, Bertha Jorkins disappearing somewhere near Albania, where I know that he has taken refuge and now, your name being used by his most loyal and trusted, to enter you into a deadly tournament. These are not coincidences, my boy."
He knew as much. He knew that the Headmaster was being truthful in what he was talking about.
Harry decided to ask a question that had been plaguing him for sometime now.
"I will ask a question, sir. Can I trust that you will be perfectly honest with me?" The headmaster's eyes met his in a staring contest and Harry felt that the man would not be entirely truthful towards him.
"Of course." Okay now that is shocking. He was pretty sure that his face would have shown, had it not for the occlumency that Narcissa had helped him with.
"I didn't expect you would accept that, sir."
"One cannot live as long as I have and keep lying to others, Mr Potter. I have found that being truthful is the best way to keep yourself and the person opposite happy." He explained, leading Harry to his office.
"Have you never said a single lie in your life, sir?" Harry questioned curiously.
"Lie, no. Keep things to myself when I should have told them the truth, yes."He took a deep breath.
"That is what I have done to you, Harry. I swear upon my honor that I have never lied to you. But at the same time, I have kept a lot of information to myself regarding your life, fearing the burden your young mind would face when the truth is uncovered."
"Treacle tart." Harry chuckled at the man's choice of a password as the gargoyle shifted. "I understand that treacle tarts are your favorites." Harry was genuinely surprised by the information that Dumbledore had.
"I didn't know you knew that sir."
"You will be surprised to know the information I have on my students, Harry." Dumbledore's mischievous twinkle returned in full force.
"Like when your parents decided to snub Professor McGonagall's class and were found in the fourth-floor broom cupboard in a rather intimate position, I say."
Harry almost gagged. "I don't need to know that sir." He glared as the man chuckled heartily.
"Very well. What do you want to know, Harry?" Dumbledore questioned, his hands folded and fingers entwined.
"Why is he still alive? I know it is something more than the love of my mother as you pointed out, but I need to know what it is about."
Harry could see Dumbledore's eyes fighting a raging battle. He was hoping the man would refuse to answer, but once again, he was surprised when the man began speaking.
“Magic can be a wonderful gift, Harry. The wonders of magic would leave anyone in awe, but at the same time, magic has horrors that will leave the strongest of the warriors disgusted by what it entails. Tom survived through one such magic." He took a deep breath and then continued.
"Tom was an extremely talented individual, Harry. He dwelled into magic that should not be known to many. That is how he grew powerful. He toured the world right after he graduated, learning many more forms of magic just to strengthen himself, before returning as Lord Voldemort."
"But from the day I met him in his orphanage, I knew one fact. Tom was hungry for power, more than he was hungry for knowledge. His eyes were not kind even to an eleven-year-old boy. I kept looking out for him during his time at Hogwarts, but apparently, his will to succeed in his plans was greater than my desire to see a wonderful talent go wrong." Harry was sure that he detected disappointment from the man.
He suddenly felt uncomfortable. He had never had the pleasure of feeling the disappointed gaze of Dumbledore directed towards him, and now, he never wanted it.
It was just that. Truly disappointing.
"Soul magic is one such branch that is truly unpleasant. And it was this magic that Tom sought, to establish the fool's errand of achieving immortality."
"He created Horcruxes," Dumbledore announced. Harry was unfamiliar with the term and his face showed the confusion he felt.
"A Horcrux is one of the vilest pieces of magic and one that must not be used to delve upon." Dumbledore's grim visage was the first warning sign for Harry that the man was not joking.
"It's almost like a ritual, where the person splits his soul into a piece and stores that soul in a container, thereby keeping two pieces of his soul in two containers. If one of the soul pieces is destroyed, the other one would keep him alive. A dark and disgusting form of magic that requires killing a person in cold blood."
Harry didn't show it, but he felt the need to empty his stomach in revulsion. Dumbledore rummaged into his drawer and pulled up an item that Harry recognised instantly.
"You have already destroyed one of them, my boy." He muttered gravely, placing the dairy on the table.
Harry though, was having a completely different thought process. If he is still alive after he destroyed the dairy, his eyes suddenly widened in horror.
"Horcruxes! He made more than one didn't he?" Dumbledore nodded, his visage grim.
"I drew the same conclusion a year back, Harry. He has more than one and how much, I have no idea." He finished.
"You have told this to no one?" Dumbledore nodded. "I am trying to collect clues about the whereabouts of these items and I think I have a few leads." He said.
They remained silent for a while until Dumbledore shook his head.
"Enough of that. It's wrong to dwell on other matters when we have work to do. If you would like, we can go to the wand-weighing ceremony, Harry." Dumbledore stood up and Harry followed suit as they began their descent towards the lower floors.
"Thank you, Headmaster. Thank you for being truthful and not hiding things from me." Dumbledore sighed.
"If it was up to me, I would never have talked about this to you, Harry. You are young and impressionable. These things corrupt wizards and witches beyond our thinking."
"But you are not just any boy, are you Harry?" He chuckled.
"I taught your grandfather when he was a boy, Harry. A strong and level-headed man, who commanded respect from every other person he came across. Judging your growth, you come across more as Charlus than young James, if you don't mind me saying."
"If he had been alive, men like Tom would never have dared to make a move. A warrior through and through. Yesterday, I was almost sure that Charlus Potter returned from exile." He replied.
Harry sized up in pride at the praise heaped on him. Being compared to his Grandfather was a huge deal for Harry.
They arrived at the destined classroom for the wand weighing ceremony. The other champions had already assembled in the classroom along with Ludo Bagman, Barty Crouch and Mr Ollivander.
There were two others in the room. A portly man holding a camera in his hand, staring at Fleur Delacour, his mouth agape and drooling.
Harry pushed the thoughts of the beautiful Veela out of his mind. He thought Fleur was different. If she was shallow-minded, he didn't know the girl at all.
The other occupant put Harry instantly on guard. Blonde hair curved elaborately, contrasting her heavy-jawed face. Jeweled spectacles adorned her predatory eyes. Those eyes were the ones that screamed superiority. The eyes of a person who feels like they control the world. The eyes of a person used to victory.
Rita Skeeter. The reporter of the Daily Prophet. Narcissa had a lot of things to say about this woman, and not the least colorful words either, much to his amusement.
She lit up the moment her eyes fell on Harry. She made to step towards him, but Harry wanted nothing to do with the woman. He discreetly conjured a knife just like the one he had used on Crouch Jr.
He raised the knife and smirked internally as the nosy reporter stepped back, her eyes wide. Harry turned back and handed the knife back to Dumbledore who frowned in confusion at the mischief in the young man's eyes.
"I didn't drop it back at home. Can you hold onto it, headmaster?" He questioned.
"What about you, Ms Skeeter?" Harry's question was anything but innocent.
"Can you hold onto it?" He asked.
The woman shook her head, stepping back for her own safety.
"Mr Potter." Dumbledore's exasperated voice called him back. "Please go and take your position. We have people waiting."
Harry shrugged and followed the man's instructions. He noticed Ollivander and nodded at the man.
"Mr Ollivander. If you can begin." Ludo Bagman smiled brightly and the elderly man stepped up.
“Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?” said Mr. Ollivander, stepping into the empty space in the middle of the room.
Fleur Delacour swept over to Mr.Ollivander and handed him her wand.
“Hmmm . . .” he said.
He twirled the wand between his long fingers like a baton and it emitted a number of pink and gold sparks. Then he held it close to his eyes and examined it carefully.
“Yes,” he said quietly, “nine and a half inches . . . inflexible . . .
rosewood . . . and containing . . dear me...”
“Hair from the head of a veela,” said Fleur. “One of my grandmothers." Her voice couldn't hide the pride from showing.
“Yes,” said Mr. Ollivander, “yes, I’ve never used veela hair my-
self, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands . . .
however, to each his own, and if this suits you . . .”
Mr. Ollivander ran his fingers along the wand, apparently checking for scratches or bumps; then he muttered, “Orchideous!” and a bunch of flowers burst from the wand tip.
“Very well, very well, it’s in fine working order,” said Mr. Ollivander, scooping up the flowers and handing them to Fleur with
her wand.
“Mr. Diggory, you next."
“Ah, now, this is one of mine, isn’t it?” said Mr. Ollivander, with much more enthusiasm, as Cedric handed over his wand.
“Yes, I remember it well. Containing a single hair from the tail of a particu-
larly fine male unicorn . . . must have been seventeen hands; nearly gored me with his horn after I plucked his tail. Twelve and a quarter inches . . . ash . . . pleasantly springy. It’s in fine condition. . . . You treat it regularly?”
“Polished it last night,” said Cedric, grinning.
Harry had to hold back a snort at the implied innuendo. He really should stop spending more time with Sirius. He cannot for the life of him, understand how the man can use such sexual innuendos blatantly and being around him, he need to watch himself.
Mr. Ollivander sent a stream of silver smoke rings across the room from the tip of Cedric’s wand, pronounced himself satisfied, and then said,
“Mr. Krum, if you please.”
Viktor Krum got up and slouched, round-shouldered and duck-footed, toward Mr. Ollivander. He thrust out his wand and stood scowling, with his hands in the pockets of his robes.
“Hmm,” said Mr. Ollivander, “this is a Gregorovitch creation, unless I’m much mistaken? A fine wand-maker, though the styling is never quite what I . . . however ..”
He lifted the wand and examined it minutely, turning it over and over before his eyes.
“Yes . . . hornbeam and dragon heartstring?” he shot at Krum,
who nodded.
“Rather thicker than one usually sees . . . quite rigid . . . ten and a quarter inches . . . Avis!” The hornbeam wand let off a blast like a gun, and a number of small, twittering birds flew out of the end and through the open window into the watery sunlight.
“Good,” said Mr. Ollivander, handing Krum back his wand.
“Which leaves . . . Mr. Potter.”
Harry got to his feet and walked past Krum to Mr. Ollivander. He handed over his wand to the elderly man. He made sure to keep the elder wand quiet for now.
"Yes….How can I forget this wand, Mr Potter? I have never seen a better match in my life. You left before I could talk to you about the wand, Mr Potter. I guess this is as better as a time as any. "
He ran his fingers over the hilt of the wand and he smiled. "A thousand-year-old bonsai, and a tooth of a thestral with obsidian." He twirled the wand and a gentle blaze of fire danced at the tip of the wand.
"It seems that this wand is not happy with being used so little, Mr Potter. It tells me that you should be using it more. Please make better use of it." He handed the wand back to Harry.
The moment the wand touched his hand, the black stripes glowed, contrasting brilliantly with the white color. Harry smiled at the behavior of his wand.
He had learnt by now that wands were sentient and responded to them just like humans. His Elder wand was no different. And apparently, this one too. They speak to him and send messages to him. He should start using both his wands together. They would complement extremely well.
"Eight centuries of loneliness later, your want is looking for action, Mr Potter. It's perfect for use."
Harry turned around and his gaze met that of the Headmaster. "I would like to take my leave, sir." He didn't bother waiting for a reply and moved to the door when Bagman stopped him.
"You can't leave, Mr Potter. There is a dueling contest scheduled in an hour. A kick off to the tournament.” Harry shook his irritably.
“What new shit is this?” he growled. “Is this a part of the tournament?” He questioned, angrily at the Headmaster.
The man nodded solemnly. “It is, Mr Potter.” His hand twitched in irritation, but Dumbledore’s shake of his head compelled him to not react. He sighed and nodded.
“Excellent!” Bagman boomed. “If the champions could make their way to the Quidditch stadium, we can begin. I am afraid that the guests are here.” He hastened out of the door.
—--&&&-----
Apparently, this was a very big event and Harry had severely underestimated the amount of spectators. The quidditch stadium was filled to capacity and several more seats had been erected to put up for the many audiences that were arriving to watch the event.
He blew a puff of smoke and closed his eyes. “I cannot ignore the fact that you are a spitting image of your Grandfather.” Harry was startled when he saw McGonagall coming up to him.
“So I have been told a number of times.” He smirked though he put the cigar out. McGonagall raised an eyebrow at that action.
“It’s just not polite to smoke in front of an elderly person, if their names are not Narcissa and Padfoot.” He shrugged. McGonagall chuckled heartily, her stern expression wavering.
‘That’s a first.’ He was pretty sure that he had never seen the woman smile this way.
“Your grandfather didn’t care if it was Merlin himself in front of him. Nobody could tell him to put his cigar down, if he decides that he wants one.” He could see that. His grandmother explained as much.
“Good luck, Harry.” McGonagall wished, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Thank you, Professor.” He smiled gently. The head of Gryffindor left to occupy her place outside. Harry looked around and he could see the other champions standing in a corner of their choice, contemplating.
His eyes met those of Fleur’s. He couldn’t help but admire the beauty behind those brilliant pairs of eyes. The faint feeling of falling into their trance once again hit him hard. He missed the girl. He had enjoyed spending time with her, but then this happened.
He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He couldn’t think about that girl. Not when she thought of him like many others had. They were summoned to step out into the arena.
The four champions entered the quidditch pitch to various rounds of applause. The support for the first three champions was high. Krum, being a famous quidditch player, had a lot of support from his adoring fans.
Fleur Delacour, had her own share of fans. Nothing too much, only the entire boys population in Hogwarts currently. The Veela’s eyes met his once again, before turning away very quickly.
He couldn’t blame those boys.
Cedric Diggory, was just the opposite. He had his share of fans, in the girl population of Hogwarts. He was a handsome bloke and he always had his share of admirers. Girls going all gooey eyed and giggling when he is around.
He had very little support. He had expected that. Most of Slytherin hated him. Ravenclaws didn't care for him. The Hufflepuffs were furious with him and most certainly hated him for stealing the glory of their champion. The boos from their section just confirmed the same.
The Gryffindors cheered lightly, but not Ron and Hermione. It was just the twins, Angelina, Alicia, Katie and Ginny. That was more than enough for him.
“Ladies and gentlemen.” Bagman began with a boom. “Welcome to the opening ceremony of the prestigious TriWizard Tournament.” A huge cheer rang around the stadium followed by a round of applause.
“The event today will be a small teaser to the exciting tasks carried out over the course of the year. We will witness a dueling contest between the champions of the prestigious institutions.” He gave a small pause for the excited chatter to die down.
“The event should have been just a glance down into the abilities of the champions, with no points awarded, but after much consideration, this event has been recognised as an official task of the TriWizard Tournament. That means, the TriWizard Tournament will begin right now!”
“Mr Krum, Mr Diggory, Mr Potter and Ms Delacour. Take your place in the center of the arena.” The selected champions did as asked.
“The last champion standing will be the winner and fifty points to start. I would like to stress that this is a great way to gain the lead in the competition.” He waited as the four of them stood facing each other.
“The Unforgivables are strictly prohibited, and so is the use of inert family magic. Begin!” He roared along with the crowd who waited eagerly for the dueling exhibition to begin.
Harry frowned as the other three champions remained quiet, an unspoken agreement being shared by the three. He was actually shocked when three wands were trained upon him.
‘Brilliant.’ He muttered to himself. Take out the less likely winning opponent before fighting among themselves, to ensure no surprises.
“Guess I have to take care of myself. Not for the first time.” He snorted. He jumped out of the line of the three stunners that were shot towards him. He faced the three of them once more.
“You are willing to gang up?” He questioned, still not bothering to raise his wand.
When three more spells rushed his way, he found out the answer. The three of them spread out, surrounding Harry from all sides. When he was trapped in, they began with their spells. Harry continued to dodge each and every spell that was thrown his way, his stamina and dodging helping him immensely.
It was then that the other champions decided to change their strategy. They fired their spells one after the other, instead of at the same time. Harry, in his ignorance, still continued to jump away from the spells, but fell right into a cutting curse that grazed his cheek, courtesy of Fleur Delacour.
A roar was heard around the stadium at his misfortune. Wow! People really don’t like him for some reason. He could think of a few, but that was not for now. He felt another cutter graze the side of his shoulder from behind and the force of the spell made sure that the gash was deep.
“Ok, now that you shouldn’t have done.” Harry whispered. He whipped around and in a flash, his wand was in his hand and in a blur, Harry let three blue blazed spells towards the champions. The champions let their shields out, but they were shocked when the spell dipped downwards towards the feet of the other champions. The spells slammed hard onto the ground and exploded, throwing back the champions with force. The stadium was shocked to see the result of the duel that was, until now, moving in the opposite direction. In one single fluid movement, Harry Potter had destroyed his opposition.
This was a technique that he had created. The technique to bend the spell. Not redirect, but bend. It took a lot of time, but he managed to create something that is his own trump card. A spell traveling straight, can be bent at odd angles, so as to surprise the opponent. The good thing was that, if he dwelled into more powerful spells, this technique would help him give an upper hand against anybody.
He looked around and he felt good. Every eye was on him, but he didn’t care. He didn’t need to care. He walked around the arena, picking up the wands of Cedric and Viktor from next to their fallen forms. He stopped near Fleur at last. The girl groaned softly as she sat up, looking for her wand.
“Sorry if I hurt you, Princess.” He smirked at the girl, rolling her wand in his hand. “But you really shouldn’t have done that.” He touched his injured cheek and hissed a little as it pained a bit. He shouldn’t have enjoyed the outrage on the face of the girl, but for some reason, that expression was much more endearing to him.
He threw her wand on the ground and turned away, and began walking out of the stadium. He was surprised by the dueling event. The TriWizard, just like its namesake, should have only three tasks. The inclusion of this task was a surprise. Anyway, he needed to go back home. Sirius and Narcissa will be waiting to learn what happened.
“Harry!” He was surprised to hear Narcissa’s voice here. “That was brisk.” She chuckled as she stepped up to him. “What are you doing here?” He questioned.
“Are you not happy to see me?” She questioned, her voice laced with hurt, but her eyes danced with mirth. He shook his head and a small smile grazed his face.
She placed her wand just under the cut on his cheek and with a muttered incantation, she healed his cut. The same was repeated near his shoulder, but she stopped at the last moment.
“That one is deep, Harry. I will see to it when we get home. It needs cleaning.” She whispered.
“No problem. Let’s go.” The two of them began their way back towards the gates of Hogwarts.
“What did you say to that girl?” She questioned, breaking the silence.
Harry felt a bit embarrassed to talk about that. Now that he thought about it, he felt that it was childish and behaving that way in front of Fleur, a reddish hue decorated his cheeks as he blushed slightly in embarrassment.
Narcissa didn’t miss that expression. “Are you blushing, dear?” She teased mischievously.
Harry shook his head, too quickly for his liking. “Nothing like that.” He denied.
“I….” He looked away. “I might have behaved childishly in front of her.” He then went on narrating what took place. Narcissa listened to everything he had to say, nodding along.
“That was not polite, Harry.” She chastised after listening to him. “You should apologize.” Harry sighed, but nodded. He had decided that much.
“She is extremely pretty, you know?” Harry scoffed. “She is Veela, Narcissa. She is a literal goddess.” Narcissa smirked.
“Do you know that she makes a wonderful pair with you?” Harry stopped in his tracks as he heard that. “No.”
“Why not? You are rich, famous and most importantly, extremely powerful, the most desirable quality for a veela. You might not notice Harry, but you are extremely handsome. And you would make a cute couple.”
Harry’s eyes gained a faraway look as he thought about her words. He shook his head, clearing himself of these thoughts. “She doesn’t trust me, Narcissa. She believed that I was responsible for entering into the tournament although she knew me. Her eyes that day were accusing. They were convinced that I was the culprit.” He scratched the back of his head, contemplating something. “I don’t want anything to do with her.” The last words were said hesitatingly.
Narcissa stifled a laugh. ‘He is smitten.’ She thought amused by his actions. She knew she was right. His attraction towards the girl was as clear as daylight. She wondered how long he would take to realize that.
‘Men are so stupid.’ She thought fondly as they continued towards the Hogwarts gates.
—--&&&--------
“How dare he?” She seethed as she paced around in her room. “Princess…..He dares to humiliate me.” She slammed her palm onto the table.
“Will you let it go, Fleur?” Gabrielle groaned as she watched her sister pace around, throwing a tantrum. Honestly, despite her facade, she was such a child. She has to wonder if she is the matured one or her sister is, by the way she acts.
“Who does he think he is?” Fleur raged.
“You had it coming, Fleur.” Gabrielle replied quietly. At her sister’s expression, that seemed like she was about to explode, she continued.
“Just a few days back, you couldn’t stop talking about him. And suddenly, for a mistake he didn’t commit, you begin to doubt him. Was it right on your part to decide he was guilty even before you could confirm it? Did you stop and think how bad he felt?”
Fleur had the decency to look ashamed. But could anybody blame her? The entire school was convinced that he had something to do with it. She could have apologized, but it was too late. He was not seen around the school from then.
She wondered about his actions. The look in his eyes as he cleaved a knife across a man’s neck was positively feral. Something extremely different from the Harry she had seen all those days. He seemed to age. He seemed to grow more powerful in just a moment’s notice.
Today was an eye opener. He managed to defeat three seventh years with one single movement. According to her headmistress, he had found a way to bend a spell. That is not a small thing. Yes, his words hurt, but what hurt the most was her veela pride. She was the best of the others. Being defeated and on top of that, being humiliated was a lot to take in and she couldn’t help but burst out. His smirk, the mirth in his eyes. The
Harry Potter was certainly interesting from the day they met. But there was so much more to Harry Potter than this.
Gabrielle noticed the faraway look on her sister. She knew that she was smitten with Harry. Her sister could be an extremely stubborn person and a right pain when she wants to. She wondered how long it would take it to realize that. It would be fun to see what she would do about the young man.
TBC—-----
