-8-
.
Autumn 1995
Harry opened the front door as quietly as possible. He had no idea what time it was - the sun had already risen, but maybe he could still sneak inside without Al noticing him…
"You were with that girl again, weren't you?"
Harry nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise. Al was sitting at the breakfast table and watched Harry stumble through the kitchen with narrowed eyes.
"Yeah," was all he said as he quickly made his way past Al towards the living room.
"You smell of alcohol."
"I'm tired. Let's talk later, okay?" Harry concentrated on speaking clearly, but he knew his voice slurred a bit nevertheless.
"You're tired all the time. Tired and wasted. I didn't raise you like this, to go out and associate with muggles, drinking with them. I'd have thought you had a little more self-respect."
Harry ignored Al and proceeded to the living room, which, over the course of the years, had unofficially become his room. He had permanently transfigured the sofa into a bed and slumped down onto the soft mattress exhaustedly. As soon as his head touched the soft cushion, Harry fell asleep.
.
When he woke, the sun was already sinking again. A quick glance at the old grandfather clock in the living room told him that it was 5 pm already. After a quick stop in the bathroom, Harry cast a cleaning charm onto his black trousers and sweat-shirt – muggle clothes he had stolen from a shop in town to blend in with the muggle crowd a bit more.
Courtney had had a fit of laughter the first time she saw that he didn't wear any trousers underneath his robes, and still teased him about it from time to time.
From the kitchen window, he could see Al working outside in the garden. Like every autumn Al was making a select few plants ready for winter.
For a moment Harry thought about climbing out of the living room window. He wasn't in the mood to get into yet another unfriendly word exchange with Al. He straightened his back. This was ridiculous.
As he walked out the front door, Al looked up.
"Going there again?" Al spat.
"Yes."
"Why?"
Because he didn't see why he should allow Al to govern his life when Al didn't even share a minimum of his own life with Harry.
Because the secrets he had discovered in Al's room – the family photos, the picture of Al with a wand – made him feel bitter and resentful whenever he looked at the old man.
Because Courtney was his age. She was nice. Fun. An amazing kisser. Generally very talented with her mouth.
"Just because."
.
Like every evening Harry walked the narrow pebble stone path up to Courtney's house, stepping over an old, broken bicycle, empty beer cans, discarded plastic bags, and other garbage, and finally knocked on the old door, whose peeling paint was yet another reminder of the general state the house was in.
Courtney's father was gone, her mother a drunk who was either sleeping off her last drinking spree or with one of her numerous lovers.
With that in mind, Harry was very surprised when instead of Courtney, a young man, a few years older than Harry, with a shaven head and an unfriendly expression opened the door.
"Yes?"
Who was that bloke?
"Is Courtney here?"
The man looked him up and down with narrowed eyes, and Harry became uncomfortably aware that he wore his black winter robes over his muggle clothes. Courtney didn't really have a problem with them – yes, sometimes she said they made him look like a weirdo, but always with a smile on her lips – but the young man scrunched his face up in disgust and looked even more hostile.
"Freak," he muttered under his breath and turned around to call for Courtney. Harry took a step back in surprise.
At the back of the man's head was a tattoo of two eyes, very real-looking eyes, and beneath them, flames that seemed to lick at the base of his head. Now that Harry was paying attention, he realised that the man's arms, and even hands, were covered in tattoos too.
Aunt Petunia would have had a fit.
He shrugged the unbidden thought off and tried not to squirm under the intense stare of the man's real eyes. Finally, Courtney appeared.
"Who's that Court?"
She flinched at his sharp tone.
"A- a friend…"
"So that's the little shite Jake told me about? The one you spend all your time with? Never knew you had a thing for freaks."
Little shite? Harry was about to tell the man what exactly he thought of him but closed his mouth when he caught Courtney shaking her head slightly.
The man grabbed her arm and shoved her outside. Her jacket came flying a moment later.
"If you let something like that screw you-", he waved his hand in Harry's direction, "—you better stay away from the house."
Harry's blood boiled, his fingers itched to grab his wand and teach that idiot some manners, but Courtney took his hand and dragged him away.
"And don't get knocked up! I want no fucking freak for a nephew!"
Courtney walked faster, only stopped once the house was out of sight.
"Who the hell was that?"
"My- my brother, Rob…" A single tear ran down her cheek, and Harry felt even angrier than before. What right did he have to treat his sister like this?
"I'm sorry," Harry said and pulled her into an embrace. She was crying for real now. He kissed her cheeks and rubbed her back soothingly, hoping he was doing the right thing. In all honesty, he had no idea how to calm a crying girl.
"He's a moron," he whispered, trying to make her feel better, and immediately Courtney pushed him away.
She looked angry, furious really. "He's no moron. Don't you dare say something like that again. He's my brother and just looking out for me."
"What?" Harry said dumbfounded. Was she really defending the guy who had just thrown her out of her own home?
"He's-", she continued hesitantly, "-he's just been released from prison, you know? I think he just needs some time to… well, realise that he's back home again."
"He threw you out of the house and insulted me without reason. He doesn't even know me."
She looked at his robes. "Not without reason. You do look like you escaped a circus with these ridiculous robes you always wear. Just buy something normal."
"I like my robes. And this still doesn't give him the right to treat you like he did."
"Just drop it, okay?" she said and came closer again, "He'll be gone in a few minutes anyway, visiting friends, then we can go back home and-", she kissed him, "-forget about all of this. Yes?"
Harry didn't like it, he wanted to talk about this some more, make her see that her brother had no right to treat her that way, but in the end, he just kissed her back.
"I know you only meant well, and I love you for it," she whispered into his ear.
Harry froze for a moment. Nobody, nobody, had ever said this to him before. She took a step back and looked into his eyes, blue meeting green. She looked so vulnerable and so kind, and somehow lost too…
"I love you too," he whispered back, and when he saw her smile, he knew that it was true.
.
Over the next few months, Harry would come to look back at the day they declared their love for each other as the beginning of the end.
He didn't realise it immediately, caught up in the giddy state of loving and feeling loved for the first time in his life as he was, but the signs were there.
Courtney started complaining about things that had never bothered her before, like his ignorance concerning films, computer games, or music. She wanted him to dress differently, more like a "normal person", cut his wild her, like a "normal person", and generally be more normal.
They couldn't meet as often as they used to, because her brother had practically forbidden Courtney to see him, and she didn't or couldn't stand up to him. Instead, she claimed that he had a point and that everything would get better if Harry only tried to look, to be more normal.
Harry refused out of sheer principle. He wouldn't change who he was for an idiot like Rob.
When Courtney said she wanted Harry to change for her, he reminded her that before Rob reappeared in her life, she had had no problem with any of the things she was complaining about now.
She had joked good-naturedly about his clothes, had introduced him to the music she liked to listen to, had accompanied him on long walks through the woods, and nearly squealed in delight when he'd shown her one of the clearings where the deer liked to graze.
So when Harry visited her on a late evening in February he wore his robes, just like he always did. He waited in the woods nearby, freezing his butt off until it was finally 11 pm - the time Rob usually left to go out with his friends.
He stepped over the garbage in the front garden with practiced ease and knocked at the door.
Rob opened.
"You." His breath stank of whiskey. "I told you to leave my sister alone."
Harry shrugged. "She invited me here," he said.
"Court!" He called. "The freak seems to think you still want to see him."
Courtney appeared behind him, she didn't meet his eyes. "I told you to leave me alone Harry."
He gaped at her. He knew she didn't want to parade their relationship around in front of her brother, but the outright rejection hurt him in ways he hadn't thought possible.
"Courtney," he said, "this is getting ridiculous. Just tell him the truth."
"Court? Anything you want to tell me?" Her brother towered over her, and she shrunk back. She caught Harry's gaze, and with a sinking feeling, Harry realised that she wouldn't admit to their relationship.
"Just go," she said.
Harry stared at her. "Can we talk alone for a minute?"
"Didn't you hear her? She said she doesn't wanna see you anymore. Get lost."
Harry stayed. He couldn't- didn't want to move. The Dursleys hadn't wanted to acknowledge his existence all his life. He had had to hide certain aspects of his life - his muggle upbringing - from Al. For once in his life he wanted someone to just stand by him. They were in love. Surely she wouldn't just ignore him? Bow to her brother's irrational wishes?
Suddenly he was grabbed by his collar and dragged inside. Rob pushed him roughly against the wall. His face was inches away from Harry's.
"Maybe I need to be a bit more specific," he growled. "We. Don't. Want. You. Here. Freak."
He grabbed Harry again and threw him through the room. Harry tried to regain his balance, but it was too late. He fell backward, his head hitting something hard and edgy.
He sank to the floor, his vision blurring. His head stung, something wet and warm drenched his hair.
Someone was bending down to him, touching his head.
"Fuck Rob! Shit, shit, shit."
Courtney.
"I didn't mean to-"
"He's bleeding!" Her voice was shaking. "Harry? Harry, can you hear me? Please, say something!" She sounded desperate as if she was crying.
Harry wanted to say something, but his mouth didn't work. His brain felt fuzzy, everything was dark.
"Get away from him!" Rob roared and Harry felt the soft touch of her hand retreat.
"We have to call an ambulance. He could be dying. What did you do?"
He heard someone approach. Rough hands picked up his head and let it dangle in the air. Harry didn't have the strength to keep it upright himself.
"Shit."
He was dropped to the ground again, a wave of pain rolled through his body.
"Damn it," a voice - Rob? - cursed. "We- we can't call an ambulance. If- if anybody finds out about this I'll be back in prison."
"We have to," a soft voice pleaded. "Rob, he could die."
Silence. Someone paced up and down the room.
"I'll take care of it, Court. Just, if anybody asks, I've been here the whole night. Do you understand?"
What were they talking about? They had to call an ambulance. Harry tried to sit up, but his body didn't follow his command.
He was picked up and slung over somebody's shoulder.
"You can't… please Rob… He didn't do anything…"
Can't what? Harry wanted to shout. He wanted to know what they were going to do to him, where they were taking him.
"Courtney I can't go back to prison. That place is… it's horrible. I can't go back there."
Loud sobbing. Somebody, Courtney, was crying.
"Please Rob, don't…"
"It's me or him Courtney. Your brother or some freak."
Silence hung heavy in the air, only disturbed by loud sobs.
"I ca- can't…"
"Me or him, your brother or…"
"You…" Courtney breathed, and suddenly the body carrying him was moving again.
The door clicked open.
"I've been here the whole night Court. If anybody asks, I've been here the whole night."
Courtney was crying hysterically.
The cold air hit Harry like a shockwave. A shudder went through his body. Another door opened. He was dropped onto something soft, warm.
Maybe they were taking him to the hospital.
An engine started. A car. That was it. He had to be inside a car. Rob was taking him to the hospital. He had to be. Courtney wouldn't allow anything else. Courtney loved him.
The car drove down a street, the occasional bump intensified his pain. Then it turned on an even more uneven road.
This didn't feel right. Harry wanted to open his eyes, but it felt impossible, harder than anything he had ever tried before. Why wouldn't his body respond?
All of a sudden, they snapped open. His surroundings were blurry. He could make out the back of Rob's shaven head on the front seat. They were driving through the wood, moving past trees at a break-neck speed.
Another bump. Another hit to the head. Pain followed by darkness. Harry tried to stay awake, tried to keep his eyes open, but unconsciousness claimed him.
The next time Harry became aware of his surrounding, he was picked up again. He could hear water nearby. Oh god.
"No…" He whimpered, but his protest was either ignored or went unnoticed.
"It's not my fault," someone murmured. "It's not my fault. I told you to stay away. My sister told you. It's not my fault. I'm not going to prison for a freak like you. I'm not. It's your fault, you hear me. Not mine."
The noise the water made became louder. They were approaching it. Harry tried to squirm away, but once again, his body refused to obey.
No. No, no, no.
A second noise mingled with the sound of water splashing against stone. Someone was crying.
Rob, Harry's sluggish brain provided.
"It's not my fault," the man repeated again and again. "Should've stayed away. Should've listened."
And then… from one second to the next, unable to even cry out in shock, Harry was sailing through the air.
Flying.
It felt like an entirety. He hit something hard and cold. Then his world went dark.
When he came to, he was surrounded by silence. Peaceful silence. Harry floated in nothingness, darkness, light. The pain from earlier was gone. Or maybe there had been no pain to begin with.
Was he flying? Yes. Flying. Finally. He should open his eyes, look around, watch the sky, the clouds, the woods from above.
He turned around, flying upside down. Flying, soaring through the air. Harry laughed in exhilaration but couldn't hear his own voice. Maybe the wind took it away, snatched the sound as soon as it left his mouth, and made it echo behind him like the white trail lingering in the wake of a plain?
A sudden pain, flaring in his chest, jolted Harry out of his musing. Something was missing, wrong, very wrong, he just didn't know what yet.
He moved his arms, trying to find balance, but they moved sluggishly, slowly, as if something was holding them, him down.
Air. That was what he was missing. That was why his lungs were on fire. He opened his mouth to take in a deep, relieving breath of fresh air, only to find water pouring in. He choked, coughed, tried to get rid of the liquid that seemed filling his lungs with ice, fuelling the fire. But only more came in.
And with the water, the memory came back. A blow to the head. Darkness. Voices. Darkness.
He became aware of the coldness of the water surrounding him, needling his skin, freezing his muscles.
Somewhere deep inside he knew that he had to fight, to swim, to get to the surface, to the live-saving air.
He opened his eyes but only more darkness welcomed him. Where was up and where down? Left and right?
Moving his arms became harder by the second. He felt his energy leaving him, felt his limbs cease to fight – and maybe he should stop fighting, the water didn't feel so cold anymore, the darkness less frightening.
Maybe this was, where it was supposed to end, his wonderful dream of magic and a Dursley-free life.
If he closed his eyes and ignored the fire in his chest, then he could still believe he was flying. It wasn't so bad to die while flying, high up in the air, in freedom.
Al. The old man's face appeared before his eyes, clear as if he was standing right in front of Harry. 'I should have listened to you. I'm sorry.'
.
Al tossed and turned in his bed.
Harry wasn't home, which was nothing unusual, but… he couldn't shake the feeling that something was different tonight. Wrong.
With a sigh, Al threw his blanket aside and brazed the cold of his room. Well, cold in comparison to the warmth of his bed.
He'd just check the watch. Then he'd see that he was getting worried over nothing. Harry was surely having a good time at the moment, getting drunk and doing who knows what with that muggle girl he seemed to have fallen for so hard.
The last time he had tried to talk with Harry about it, the boy had even claimed to be in love.
In a way, Al couldn't even find it himself to be overly angry with Harry. He was a young man - it was practically expected of him to sow his wild oats.
But that it had to be with a muggle…
He reached the kitchen, glanced at the clock, and was about to return to his bed when the reality of what he had just seen caught up with him. He looked back again.
The watch hand was pointing to Danger, to the 'r' to be more specific, leaning dangerously towards the word Dead.
Al's heart jumped painfully. He quickly slipped into his shoes, grabbed his winter robes, and stepped out into the dark.
He had no idea where to start looking. If only he had his magic. Familiar hatred, for the world, but mostly himself, welled up in him. He couldn't lose Harry. The boy was the only good thing that had happened to him since that night so long ago, the night he had lost his magic. He couldn't lose him too.
Back inside the kitchen, the watch hand slowly moved away from the 'r', past the 'e', 'g', 'n', 'a' and slowly stopped waveringly at the 'D'.
.
With a gasp, Harry came to. His face was resting against something cold and hard. He sat up with effort and felt for his wand. It was still where he remembered, strapped to his lower leg with two cords.
His fingers were numb, stiff with cold, and it took him an eternity to untie the knots.
"Lumos," he whispered. The tip of his wand glowed, illuminating his surrounding. He was sitting on a rocky shore next to a rapid river.
He stared at the water. How the hell had he ended up here? He should be with Courtney-
Her name triggered his memory, and abruptly one painful scene after the other flooded his brain.
"It's me or him Courtney. Your brother or some freak."
"You…" Courtney breathed.
A cry of denial, of gut-wrenching pain, tore from his lips.
She had- she had simply allowed Rob to take him away, to discard him like garbage.
And Rob… Rob had had simply done so. Thrown him into the river. Left him for dead.
Harry's hand was shaking, the light wavered.
Rob had thrown him away like Harry was garbage, and he had let him. He, a wizard, had allowed a muggle to gain the upper hand. Had allowed a muggle to incapacitate him.
He felt for the wound on his head. It wasn't bleeding any more. In fact, it seemed to have healed remarkably well, too well.
"Magic," Harry said reverently.
Magic had saved him.
Harry staggered to his feet. He swayed a little, but determinately put one foot in front of the other. He would find Rob, and then he would show the stupid muggle exactly what he had gone up against.
He laughed in exhilaration. Magic had saved his life. Magic had allowed him to survive where a simple muggle would have died. For the first time in his life, Harry understood why Al looked down on muggles, even though they were so similar to them in appearance and intelligence.
Muggles were weak. They were an inferior race; where they died, wizards prevailed.
"Point me Rob." His wand spun in his hand.
.
Al could already see the lights of the muggle village in the distance. His knee hurt, but he ignored the pain with practiced ease. If Harry would only start learning healing spells, then maybe…
Well, Harry could hardly start learning healing spells as long as Al barred his access to the library.
He cursed his own stubbornness. Maybe if he had allowed Harry to continue his studies, he wouldn't have gone to meet that muggle so often, maybe then Harry wouldn't be in mortal danger right now.
A car sped past him, and Al shielded his eyes from the light. He caught a glimpse of its passengers and his breath stopped.
One of them was Harry - deathly pale and with blue lips, but alive. He spun around and followed the fast-disappearing car.
.
Abducting the muggle had been easy. Almost too easy.
He had slipped into the house silent like a shadow.
Courtney was nowhere to be seen, and Rob was sitting in front of the TV, holding onto a bottle of cheap vodka like a lifeline.
The Imperius was harder to perform on a muggle than on an animal, but it worked nevertheless, and Rob followed him out of the house, got into his car, and drove them back to the place where he had thrown Harry into the river without protest.
Now he was sitting on the ground in front of Harry, looking into the distance with unfocused eyes.
It would be easy to just kill him now and be done with it, throw him into the river, just like Rob had done to him, and command him not to struggle… but Harry wanted Rob to see him before he died, to see what he had brought on himself.
Courtney's face appeared before his eyes… she wouldn't want her brother to die… she would plead with him to let Rob live…
Harry pushed the thought away. He didn't want to deal with all of that now. Didn't want to face the reality, the true horror of his night. Right now, he wanted to concentrate on nothing but his revenge.
"Serpensortia."
A thick, black snake appeared on the ground before him. He repeated the spell.
"Coil around his arms," Harry hissed and the snakes followed his command without hesitation. He grinned. Being a wizard was amazing.
He canceled the Imperius and with a start, Rob became aware of his surroundings.
"What the fuck?" He spat, then he caught sight of Harry and shrunk back with a - in Harry's opinion embarrassingly high-pitched - shriek.
"You- you're dead."
"Obviously not."
"H- how did I get here?"
"I told you to come here."
Rob looked at him disbelievingly. "I don't remember…"
His face changed from confusion to rage, and he took a step forward, probably to attack Harry, but the snakes wrapped tightly around his arms hissed dangerously.
"I wouldn't do that," Harry grinned. He knew he was probably looking like a maniac, but it just felt so good to get back at the man who had tried to kill him, the man who had destroyed his relationship with Courtney, who had cost him his first love.
Rob froze, his eyes widened in horror. "How…"
"Oh, I can talk to them, you know. It's a freakish talent of mine. Look," Harry focused on the snakes. "Tighten your grip."
"St-stop this- stop this damn it."
"Not so tough anymore, are we?"
"What do you want?" Rob's voice shook.
"Just to make us even. You tried to kill me, so now it's my turn."
"Is this about Courtney? Do you want to date her? I can-" it seemed to physically pain him to finish his sentence. "-I can back off."
Harry laughed, the sound hollow to his own ears. "It's a little too late for that, don't you think? Cou-," his voice broke, he couldn't say her name, "-your sister didn't help me. She doesn't care."
"She cares," Rob pleaded, "I know she does. She- she hates me for what I did for you if you just-"
Harry's hand shook. He knew if he didn't hurry up, he wouldn't be able to go through with this. He couldn't allow Rob to waste time talking, to make him think about all of this.
"Enough," Harry hissed. "You tried to kill me. You failed. And now you're going to bear the consequences."
"I was drunk and angry, I didn't mean-"
The snakes reared up and Rob fell silent. Tears were running down his cheeks, his eyes following Harry's every movement, widening in horror as he caught sight of the sharp dagger in his hand.
'It's not much different from killing a deer. It's not. He deserves it. He tried to kill me. He deserves it. He's just flesh, and blood, and bones, not so different from a deer…'
Harry approached, knife gripped tightly in his hand.
"Please, no…"
Rob tried to step back, but one of the snakes was crawling down his body, winding around his legs, making him trip.
He fell down.
'Not so different from killing a deer. Just flesh, and blood, and bones.'
Harry crouched down next to him, focusing solely on his eyes. They were different from a deer's, weren't they? More aware somehow, more afraid of death. Different, but not in a bad way.
Rob's breathing sped up, but he didn't try to get away again.
"Please…" he whispered, but Harry didn't listen.
He brought his knife down, and with one smooth motion, honed to perfection from the hunt, he cut through Rob's throat, severing the carotid artery.
Rob's eyes rolled back, he lost consciousness immediately. His brain was shutting down as the blood pressure dropped. It was a quick death but Harry didn't think he had the stomach for torture.
He doubted he could have gone through with the kill if Rob had had more time to plead with him.
Rob's arms twitched, his mouth opened and closed a few times, a wet stain appeared in his groin area.
Harry staggered back. He looked at the bloody knife in his hand to the dead man on the ground.
His fury, his anger was receding, leaving horror and doubt to cloud his mind.
Had he gone too far, had he… god. He had just killed somebody. He'd really done it.
Leaves rustled behind him and Harry turned around faster than he thought possible, wand raised, a stunning spell already on his lips.
"Harry?" A familiar voice asked.
"Al? What? How?"
The old man stepped out of the woods, stared at Harry, then at the corpse behind him.
"What happened here?" His voice was flat, neither judging nor horrified, simply there.
Harry broke down. The horror of his night, the feeling of drowning, the certainty that he would die, the cold of the water, the feeling of fresh air in his lungs, his fury, his desire for revenge, the disappointment, the look in Rob's eyes… it all came crashing down on him, and his knees simply gave out.
Al enveloped him in an embrace, holding Harry's shaking body, talking to him soothingly. "Why don't you just tell me what happened?"
"I- He-," Harry hiccupped, "-he tried to kill me. Would've killed me if my magic hadn't saved me. I- so angry and I just-"
It seemed to take him an eternity to tell the whole story. His voice broke more than once when he came to the part about Courtney's betrayal. He still loved her. Or the person she had been at the beginning of their relationship - the girl who accepted his strangeness, even seemed to like him for it. The unafraid girl, who explored the woods with him at the dead of the night, the girl he could stay up whole nights with, just making love and talking.
When the story was told, the last word spoken, Al just sat with him in silence.
"You did the right thing, Harry."
"I killed another human being…"
"A muggle. A muggle who tried to kill you first."
He got up and pulled Harry with him. "Can you transfigure him into something? A piece of wood maybe?"
"I don't think so. It's too complex." Harry felt stupid. He could kill somebody but not even clean the mess up afterward.
"Then just make him float along. We'll think of something."
Harry did as he was told, and the two men, with a corpse in their wake, started their way back.
"Al?" Harry asked timidly.
"Yes?"
"I- I want to say I'm sorry. I was stupid and, I was so angry with you… not because of the book, but-," he hesitated.
"Then why?"
"Because I don't know a damn thing about you. I don't even know your name. And I thought you were a squib, but when I- I broke into your room and took the book, a found a picture of you, holding a wand, so clearly you had magic at some point and I just don't understand. I- I don't even know your whole name, and you know everything about me, know even more about my family's history than I do…"
Harry hadn't wanted to say this much, be this direct, but once he had started talking, he just couldn't stop. His mouth simply continued on and on, sharing all the thoughts that had occupied his mind for the last few months.
He didn't dare look at Al. He knew Al would just put the topic off like he always did. And he also knew that he had no right to demand anything from Al.
"My past is very painful for me to remember," Al said. "But I realise that by taking you in, by raising you like my own, I made the decision to let you into my life long ago. I should have told you more about myself, but it- it seemed so unimportant to me. My past is gone. It's nothing I can go back to."
He paused and they walked along in silence.
"The picture you mentioned? That's indeed me with a wand. I started Hogwarts in September of 1936, following in the footsteps of my ancestors. I had magic then, my- I- I don't anymore."
Harry stared at Al open-mouthed. "Thank you," he said, though those simple words were not enough to express the gratitude and relief he felt. After all these years, Al was finally starting to let him in.
Al grinned. "Aye. My name's Alphard, by the way. Alphard Black. Are you sure I didn't mention that? Thought I had introduced myself to you with my full name that first day when you appeared on my doorstep."
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