Disclaimer: Much to my dismay, and for many others I am sure, the book series Harry Potter does not, and will never, belong to me. So thank you J. K Rowling for allowing us to borrow your characters and books.
Title of the story, and most of the description, don't belong to me, but to an already existing series of shops known as La Maison du Chocolat.
Warnings: Tiny bit AU, with a series of mixtures between French and English.
AN: I somehow got persuaded to join the Quidditch League Competition so I'll be writing a oneshot every two weeks to try to win this tournament. Every two weeks, I will be given a prompt that I will have to fulfil as Captain of the Kenmare Kestrels. The stories must be T-rated (or M-rated if the judge allows it) , minimum 1,000 words and maximum 3,000. Wish me luck so that my team and I can win. =)
This week, I have to write a whole story without using the word "the" in the title, summary or story.
Hope you guys enjoy.
Summary: QLC. Having some sort of culture is good and all, but there is a time and place for everything. Harry only wished that Hermione incorporated that her way of thinking before making him suffer for his grand opening press conference.
Word-Count: 1,242 words (including the title).
La House of Chocolate
"Honestly Harry, you can't blame me for wanting you to learn another language. Besides, French isn't that complicated, compared to Latin for example."
Sometimes, Harry just wish he could answer back Honestly Hermione, when will you learn to not enforce your want of learning on others? But, being a good friend, he swallowed back those words more times than he could care to count.
It wasn't as if Hermione didn't have any good intentions. She wanted her best friend and boyfriend to learn something new, using spells she discovered to help them along. Which was all well and good if they didn't interfere with their day-to-day life!
Take Hermione's new idea, for example. She somehow got in her head that Ron and Harry should try to learn French, since France wasn't very far from Great Britain, hence learning such a language. Now, normally, when one learns a new language, one goes to a class in order to learn or other such classical method.
Normal didn't compute with one Hermione Granger, as you may already have deduced. Couple a very intelligent brain with logic that was quite nonsensical due to magic answering any sort of questions, you get an answer that mean Hermione had to use a spell so that it could work.
What she had in mind (while searching for any sort of spell that would fit her idea) was quite simple in itself. Since Magic solved any problem, it could replace one or two words per day from English, transforming it into French words.
Unfortunately, her timing couldn't be worst. Let's explain a not so complicated situation, shall we?
Harry, after finishing his Hogwart's education, didn't want to sign for policemen work (Aurors) or go to Healing (St. Mungos) or any sort of that silly stuff people seemed to believe he would do once he did graduate. Instead, Harry felt that his calling was to cooking. Regrettably, his relatives spoiled his happiness in cooking food for eating. Rather, Harry felt that his calling was in desserts, mainly chocolates.
Hence his great idea in opening a Chocolate House in Diagon Alley. It took him months of preparations before finally getting through all that red-tape to obtain his permits to even open a shop in such a grand place — Diagon Alley could be equal to Fortune & Masons, just with a bigger area of shops, if one needed to compare.
Then, Harry to go through another circus act to promote his shop (while simultaneously preparing his diverse recipes for each of his products) only to reach a pinnacle with one heck of a party (pardon his French for these circumstances) right before his shop's opening. A shop that still needed a sign from which would hang a name. A name that would represent what Harry was selling.
It was when disaster struck with Hermione's brilliant idea to force Harry to learn another language. While everyone was having fun, Hermione added something in her fiancé's and best friend's drink (a potion of her composition based on multiple sources and approved in secret by administrative bureaucrats who were seing Galleon signs everyone). That dreaded potion that made Harry rue his friendship with Hermione.
What did this potion do you may ask? Why, exactly what Hermione was looking for to make Harry and Ron learn a new language (by force).
When Dawn broke out after such a night of festivities, Harry was getting ready for his conference where he could reveal to everyone what he would call his shop. Since Harry wanted to preserve his voice, something about nerves that butterflied in his stomach, he didn't realize his affliction.
Flashes of lights blindsided him, as they were far more numerous than what he was usually use to. For once, no shouting, amalgamated, voices were coupled with such white, a peaceful respite for Harry's poor, poor, ears.
"Mr. Potter, what sort of chocolates will you be selling?" was one frequently asked questions (as they were authorized prematurely by Harry's press agent a couple of weeks ago).
Giving his number 22 smile (I-am-only-smiling-since-I-have-to-for-a-good-public-relation-and-nothing-else, so he adopted a general speech pattern where everything was hyphenated, sue him!), Harry replied cordially. "My main products will be a series of different types of chocolates. They will all have a similar base of ganache with some of them having hints of flavours for all tastes. For example, I will have one called Earl, a dark chocolate ganache, infused with some bergamote leaves to imitate an Earl Grey taste. Quite bizarre to hear or read on paper, I'm sure, but one of my most popular chocolates for my circle of friends and acquaintances."
Murmured mumbling was heard after his announcement, while Harry was bracing for one very important question: his shop's name.
It was one Zoe Zellagest, famed Daily Prophet, gourmet journalists, who held such an honor.
"What will you call your shop, Mr. Potter?"
Proudly, Harry stated, quite innocently in fact, "La House of Chocolate".
In a crescendo wave, murmuring voices grew louder and louder, while still being in an acceptable level. Did Harry Potter deliberately called his shop that way? Just to be sure that it wasn't some kind of joke from their Saviour, Miss Zellagest asked again her question.
Harry replied with his same answer as before, trying to keep a cool facade at what was coming out of is mouth. A word he so desperately needed to say, one that was used in everyday language, couldn't come out. He couldn't even think it with it turning into it's French equivalent.
In Harry's head, he wanted to say, "that is not la answer that I wanted to say. I want to call my shop La House of Chocolate! Honestly, it's le title of my shop, not some mixture of French and English, without disrespect for les French." But even in his head, IT was replaced, hence why Harry swallowed back his panicked, locking it down deep into a recess of his brain, to bravely face a rapidly dissolving press conference for going off script.
Four hours later, Harry, to tired for a screaming match with Hermione, merely told her how displeased he was with her meddling and how he hoped she enjoyed ruining something he was looking for too, as well as his credibility with his future customers.
Harry needn't to worry about such a thing when he would read tomorrow's headlines.
"IN A BRAVE AND DARING MOVE, HARRY POTTER BREACHES A GAP BETWEEN TWO CULTURES"
"HARRY POTTER: GENIUS OR CREATIVE?"
"LA HOUSE OF CHOCOLATE, A NEW CHIQUE FOR BOTH BRITISH AND FRENCH"
They were but a few, main, headlines from prominent British journals. He would have to ask Fleur what French newspapers were saying about him later on when he would eat his regular Sunday dinner with pseudo-family.
Hermione's best intention may have ruined his day — as after such a press conference and response, Harry couldn't undo what he called his shop —, and she may be quite smug about it later on, but once again, his best friend had helped Harry go to new hights with such and unusual coup.
There was only one thing Harry could complain about. "Honestly Hermione, did you really have to brew la potion so strongly? It's been blocking le word, that same bloody word, for les past few days."
La Fin
AN: All underlined words are the French equivalent for the word "the".
Hope you guys like this little gymnastic story for the competition.