Author's note

Thank you for dropping by. I hope you enjoy the story. Your reviews are welcomed and cherished, always ;)

CHAPTER 1

THE BRUSSELS DISTRICT OF MAGIC

Ella lets out a loud sigh as she tosses herself onto the bed.

Throwing his shirt to the laundry basket, Severus asks without looking at her:

"Is that sigh related to Mr Potter?"

"Yes," replies Ella, her eyes absently sticking to the ceiling.

Harry has been giving her the cold shoulder since he came home after two weeks with his godfather.

She understands his discomfort. Suddenly having Draco under the same proof, though only for about ten days, was almost the worst welcome-home gift he could ever have received. That all the adults were striking their hair to all directions taking care of Draco only added insult to injury.

After Draco's matters settled, she has been trying her best to make up for it. She engaged in small talks with him whenever possible. It didn't work. She made him his favourite foods. Didn't work either. Then she gave him sweets, as the last resort. Still didn't work.

In fact just yesterday he was so cross that he shot her a pretty disrespectful glare, which earned him another glare from his dad. After that she had to convince Severus that it wouldn't have done anyone any good if he had gone all angry and scolded or punished the boy. Hence Harry was let off with a calm and gentle talk in her absence.

Severus has tried to get him to talk about the issue during their bedtime talks, but unsuccessfully thus far.

"What should I do?," Ella massages her temples.

"I told you, just leave it," says Severus. "He will get over it sooner or later."

"It will take too long."

"Then go be straightforward and talk to him about it already now."

She glances away from the ceiling, at Severus. He shrugs:

"He won't hate you for it. He's just sulking."

With that he leaves the room. Ella rises to follow him. As he turns right into the bathroom, she turns left.

Harry's door is standing ajar, waiting for his dad's bedtime visit. Taking a deep breath, she knocks and pushes the door open slightly wider, allowing herself to peek in. She works up the best smile she is capable of:

"I'm dropping by to say good night. May I come in?"

The boy pauses, dumbstruck and keeps blinking at her without a word. She decides to be thick-skinned and remain there until it works.

"Can I come in?," she repeats.

"Well… yes," Harry swallows.

Beaming, she enters.

She has never set foot in his room before. It is as old and raw as the rest of the house yet still hosts a cosy atmosphere. The walls are covered in Quidditch posters. On the bedside table sit two picture frames, one showing Severus hugging an adorable younger Harry in his arm and the other a couple dancing amidst falling autumn leaves. Ella instantly recognises them. Their images appear everywhere in the materials she has read about The Boy Who Lived.

She settles on the beside chair, facing Harry. He is already in his nightwear, a book opening on his lap. Propping her chin in her hand, she gives him a soft, gentle gaze.

"You are cross with me, aren't you?," she asks with a note of sadness in her tone. "Why is it? Did I do something that bothered you?"

With a brief pause, the boy drops his eyes and murmurs:

"No, there's nothing."

"Is it because of Draco?"

He raises his eyes to meet hers but remains quiet.

"I know you didn't like it," she sighs, "and being told you could just ignore him didn't really help much either. I want you to know though that had we had the choice, we wouldn't have forced you into such an unpleasant situation."

She pauses and waits, but no reaction except his fingers starting to play with the blanket.

"It was a difficult situation for us too," she continues. "We really didn't have any other option if we wanted to help him. And I know you might not get why we would even try to help him, but we are in a very different position to yours, Harry. We are adults and we are his former teachers. We couldn't let his life go astray under our watch if we could help it. You don't have to agree with us but don't punish me for it, will you?"

His eyes snap up and open wide:

"What do you mean?"

"You have been giving me the cold shoulder. It's painful. I had been longing for spending a nice summer with you."

Giggling inwardly, she works up a sulky look on her face. Harry loses it. He starts giggling, and in no time, laughing.

"There, much better," she lets out a soft laugh herself and playfully taps his cheek with her hand. "Welcome back, happy Harry."

His laugh trails off into a grin. Ella gives him a mysterious look:

"On a side note, there is some news I believe might possibly delight you."

She pauses and lets it hang in the air.

"What is it?," he pounds his fingers on the book impatiently.

"I'm going to Belgium for a conference next week. Severus and I thought we could take the chance to go together and spend about a week there."

"Really?!," he beams from one ear to another. "Yay!"

"Plan approved then?," she raises an eyebrow with a smirk.

"What are we going to do there?," he bends forward and props his chin on his fists.

"I'll have to spend the first two days on the conference. Severus and you can roam the area meanwhile. After that we can decide what to do next."

"What's the place like? Is it like Diagonal Alley?"

"You'll see," Ella winks. "I guess you should sleep now," she eyes the clock, which indicates ten in the evening.

"When are we going there?"

"Sunday evening, so I can show you around a bit before I go to the conference on Monday. Can I tuck you in?"

She raises her hand and blinks jokingly. Harry giggles while sliding into his blanket:

"Yes."

After tucking him in, she rises:

"Sweet dreams, dear. See you tomorrow."

"Ella?"

"Hmm?"

Half of his face under the blanket, he asks importantly:

"When will you and Severus get married?"

Caught off guard, she flushes to the top of her ears.

"You should ask him," she grins.

"I asked him and he told me to ask you."

She chuckles:

"It's a joke. We don't know yet, Harry. We have only been together for a few months, it's too soon to talk about that now. But I will remember to inform you when we do."

"How long will it take?"

"You are really interested in it, huh?"

The boy lazily adjusts himself in the bed:

"I like it when you live with us."

An invisible arrow hits her heart and fills the rest of her with warmth and joy.

"Isn't it what I'm already doing?," she smiles.

"I mean permanently."

That stretches her smile to its full capacity.

o0o

"Is it here?," asks Severus, looking around the place they have just arrived at.

"I believe it is."

Ella double checks the invitation letter in her hand. The parchment bears the address she is well familiar with:

Policies and Social Justice Journal International Headquarters

Rue d'Aube 32

L'Arrondissement de Magique

Boulevard des Légendes 45

Brussels

Belgium

The street has changed quite a lot since her last visit several years ago, but the antique shop at Number 45 and the hospital at Number 46 Boulevard des Légendes are still standing where they were.

"Come," she says and strides across the street, followed by Harry and Severus.

Once they are at the wall between the antique shop and the hospital, she turns around, casually leans her back against the wall and places her hand on the surface. She glances over her shoulder to register the effect.

Slowly and smoothly, the wall splits itself in half, then extends, pushing the antique shop and the hospital away from each other, revealing an open entrance. In no time, they find themselves at one end of another boulevard, lined with new and modern skyscrapers and crowded with people.

"Welcome to the Brussels District of Magic," Ella grins and swirls around, dragging the suitcase behind her.

Harry is already gasping in excitement. Severus' eyes dart from building to building with a curious frown on his forehead:

"This place looks very muggle."

"It does," says Ella. "I guess that's what comes out when you have wizards and witches from all over the world stuffed in one urban district. Our hotel is here."

Stargaze Hotel, Number 31 Voie de la Lune, is a decent hotel located in a peaceful corner but only a short walk from the district's centre.

"Your suite is on the third floor, Madam," the witch at the reception hands back to Ella her identity card. "You can go by Floo from here," she points at the fireplace in the reception hall.

"I'm sorry, Madam, but I can't use the Floo. I'm a muggle."

"Ah," says the witch, "in that case the lift is over there."

"Thank you, Madam."

Ella has never lodged anywhere in this district outside the Policies and Social Justice Journal's headquarters before. This time she gives up her place in their guesthouse and rents a family suite for Severus, Harry and herself instead. The suite provides a good view over the district's main avenue, which is basically a giant mixture of lights, people and buildings. Harry is wow-ing at it nevertheless.

"You should put your luggage in the wardrobe, Harry," says Ella. "What would you like for dinner?"

"I don't know. Do they have specialties here?," he answers without peeling his eyes off the window.

"Brussels sprouts?"

"Ew!"

Ella and Severus tremble with laughter. She leans against the desk and picks up the district map:

"Tristan and I used to eat at Feu et Glace, just down this street. They offered quite a nice buffet. Maybe we can start there to get an idea of Belgian cuisine and decide on what to eat the following days. I hope the restaurant is still there. Merlin, I have not been here for so long."

"When will Tristan come?"

"Tomorrow morning straight to the conference room."

"But he will stay overnight tomorrow, won't he?"

"Yes."

"Let's ask him to join us for dinner."

"Certainly. I will ask him tomorrow. Harry?"

"Yes?," the boy answers absently from the other side of the room division.

"Let's go."

"Can we eat later?"

"I have to sleep early tonight because I have work tomorrow morning."

"I see…"

With a little disappointment but no protest, he appears with his signature untidy mop of hair.

"Is it slightly possible that you tidy your hair a little?," Ella asks.

"I tried. Didn't work," he shrugs.

"Come over hear," she gestures.

Harry comes standing in front of her, lowering his head. Ella frowns. She doesn't even know where to start. At last, she lands the hairbrush at a random spot and swirls it around, trying to find the natural line. Indeed, it didn't work.

"Okay," she sighs, "do it yourself. I surrender."

Giggling, he strikes his hair with his fingers and somehow it magically becomes a little less untidy. Or so she believes.

Feu et Glace is, thankfully, still where it was and so is the buffet. The restaurant is full of guests with all kinds of appearance: wizarding clothing ranging from North America to the Pacific Islands, from Greenland to South Africa, and muggle clothing from expert camouflage/muggleborn level to I-have-no-idea-what-I-am-wearing level.

"How am I supposed to…?," Harry trails off, giving Ella a shrug.

She chuckles:

"Follow me and do as I do."

She whispers explanations about buffet etiquette to Harry while taking food for him and herself. Severus stays silent and helps himself, occasionally frowning at strange dishes.

The restaurant gets more and more crowded into the evening. By the time they serve themselves the second round, another family have arrived and occupied the table only a feet from theirs.

The family have two parents and two beautiful daughters, all speaking French. For some reason, the little girl keeps eyeing Harry curiously. Also for some reason, both Severus and Harry keep stealing looks at the mother and the older girl. Taking a quick glance, Ella figures it out. She chuckles inwardly.

"Excuse me," says the little girl with heavy French accent, "are you from Britain?"

Dumbstruck for a moment, Harry shyly replies:

"Um… yes?"

"I learn English a little," the girl beams and fiddles in her seat.

The mother says something to her in French, then turn to Harry:

"I'm sorry if she bothers you. She is just eager to practice her English."

His eyes dreamy and his jaw hanging loose, he replies:

"It's fine, Madam."

Failing to refrain herself, the little girl sneaks some more lines with Harry and he is more than happy to chat with her. Meanwhile, Severus is freezing where he is, his eyes also dreamy and his hanging jaw tactfully hidden behind the wine glass.

Ella manages to suppress her chuckles until they are back in their hotel. Once Harry disappears into the bathroom, she loses it and bursts into laughter.

"What is it?," asks Severus, both confused and annoyed.

"Feeling strange, are you?," she lets out between her laughs. "Have a weakness for blonde women huh?"

"What do you mean?," he hisses.

"I'm joking," Ella sits up straight. "It's normal what you felt. The woman and her daughters were part Veela."

"Part Veela?," he blinks. "How do you know?"

"I'm an ethnographer, Sev. It's basic observational skill. But you looked absolutely hilarious. Sorry I can't stop laughing," she throws herself back to the bed and rolls into another laugh.

"Am I supposed to say sorry?," he looks her over his shoulder with a blank face.

"No," she waves him off. "But I don't mind if you do."

More laughter endures in the family suite on the third floor of Stargaze Hotel, Number 31 Voie de la Lune in the Brussels District of Magic.