Harry woke the next morning feeling more relaxed than he had in ages. The weights of Sirius' death and the prophecy were still there, but just being out of Britain for a time was doing wonders to lower his stress levels.
He lay in bed for several minutes, staring at the ceiling as he considered what to do for the day. Part of him wanted to see what the magical section of Paris looked like immediately, while the rest of him was content to put off dealing with wizards for as long as possible and simply enjoy the mundane sights.
Eventually coming to a decision he called down for room service, asking them to send up something that they thought would be good for an Englishman with little experience but plenty of interest in French cuisine. Then he turned on the television to an animated show about what looked to be a girl in a ladybug themed costume as he showered and got ready for the day.
After a delicious breakfast of sweet crepes Harry got up and stretched. Exiting the room after leaving a generous tip for housekeeping (having heard Vernon complain more than once about people expecting tips for working when they should be happy with what they got and determined to do the exact opposite of what the walrus would have) he made his way out onto the streets of Paris after picking up a muggle guidebook to the city in the hotel's small convenience store.
Fifteen minutes later he was walking passed the glass pyramid outside of the Louvre, smiling as he made his way into the enormous building and grateful he'd thought to check the museum's website when he saw the crowds. Once he was inside he had to pause and take the place in before turning and heading to the mesopotamian antiquities section and beginning his tour.
Some time later, Harry was seated in one of the many cafes that were dotted throughout the Louvre for those that needed to rest their feet and get some sustenance, a cup of tea and a few light pastries in front of him. He'd walked through quite a bit of the museum, taking pictures on his phone when allowed and otherwise enjoying the art.
He normally wasn't one for such things, or at least he'd thought so, but then he'd reasoned with himself before deciding to go to the museum that he'd never actually had a chance to find out. It's not as though the Dursleys would ever take him to a museum. Or even go to one themselves without some sort of prompting. And the paintings at Hogwarts didn't count in his mind, the fact that they could move and think keeping him from considering them proper art.
So in the adventurous spirit he'd begun his trip on he'd decided to try as many new things as possible, both so he could say he'd done them and so he could learn more about himself. And so far he'd learned that he found art interesting, if not so much that he'd become an artist or art critic himself. He could see himself having a few nice pieces on the walls of his eventual home, though.
"Harry Potter?" A young voice asked from beside him, almost making him choke on his tea. He quickly turned to find a girl of about ten looking at him in surprise. He recognized her, the nearly perfect features and blonde hair sticking in his mind, though it took him a moment to remember her name.
"Gabrielle?" He asked, surprised. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm here with my family to see the museum since Fleur came back from England for the summer." She answered promptly, beginning to smile when she realized that it was indeed Harry. She gave him a quick hug and kissed his cheeks, much to his surprise. "It's so good to see you, Harry! We've been hearing awful things." She babbled happily before blinking as she pulled back. "And when did you learn French?"
"It's something I picked up." He said before looking around. "Where are Fleur and your parents?"
"They're still looking at a few pieces, but I got bored." She answered. "They asked me to find a table to rest at so I'm not just standing around. Do you mind if we join you? I'm sure Maman and Papa would like to meet you."
As a kneejerk reaction he considered telling her no simply out of fear he'd be forced back to Britain, but he kept from blurting that out. Gabrielle looked very pleased and expectant, and he wouldn't want to hurt her that way. Besides, as long as he didn't mention he'd left without permission they should have no reason to report him to Dumbledore. And it would be nice to have somebody to talk to.
"Sure, Gabrielle. Have a seat." He said with a smile, prompting the girl to grin and quickly sit next to him.
"Thank you." She said as she settled before looking back at him.
"So you said Fleur is back from the UK? I didn't know she'd moved there..." Harry said as he sipped his tea again.
"Yes." The girl said, nodding rapidly. "Fleur got a job at Gringotts, partly to help with her English. She's enjoyed it a lot, though our parents are a bit more hesitant now that, well…" She hesitated, looking at him.
"Now that Voldemort is confirmed to be back, you mean." He said simply before nodding in understanding. "I don't blame them. I'd be trying to force her back to France if it was me."
"Well, she says she won't be coming back because she found herself a man." She said with an impish smile. "A Monsieur William Weasley. Is he related to Ron?"
Harry blinked, surprised. "Yeah, Bill's his eldest brother." He cocked his head to the side. "They're dating? I hadn't heard anything about that…"
"Fleur said she was going to be introduced to his family when she got back." Gabrielle said, kicking her feet. "She's nervous, doesn't know if they'll like her."
"I'm sure it'll be fine…" He assured her, though inwardly he wasn't as confident. Fleur was nice, in her own fashion, once she warmed up to you, but he remembered how bluntly critical and outspoken she'd been about things during her stay at Hogwarts. It'd rubbed many people (at least those not enthralled) the wrong way, and he could see how that would likely grate on Mrs. Weasley.
Suddenly realizing that he had tea and pastries but Gabrielle didn't he smiled guiltily. "Sorry Gabrielle, I got distracted talking to you. Would you like me to get you something to drink?"
The girl opened her mouth to answer when a man spoke from behind them. "We can take care of that, young man, thank you."
Harry turned around in his seat to find a short, plump man with a pointed black beard. He had a good natured smile on his face as he eyed Harry curiously, obviously wondering who he was and what his relation was to his youngest.
Behind him were two beautiful blonde women. One Harry easily recognized as Fleur, which meant that the other could only be her mother. He saw recognition flash in the younger woman's eyes, which replaced the wariness that had come from seeing her beloved younger sister with a stranger, and he stood up to greet them.
"Harry!" Fleur exclaimed happily, moving towards him and giving him a hug and a kiss on each cheek like her sister had, though this flustered him a bit more coming from her than it had Gabrielle.
"Hello Fleur." He said with a smile, returning the brief hug before turning to the adults. "Hello Monsieur and Madame Delacour. My name is Harry Potter. I met your daughters during their time at Hogwarts."
"Ah." Monsieur Delacour approached at that, his hand outstretched for a shake and a pleased smile on his face. "Yes, my girls have told us about you, Monsieur Potter. I am Jean-Luc Delacour, and this is my lovely wife, Apolline."
Harry got another hug and pair of kisses from a beautiful woman once he'd shaken Jean-Luc's hand, the eldest woman in the group providing them with a smile of her own. "Indeed, we have heard much. You have our thanks for what you did for Gabrielle during the Second Task of the tournament."
Harry blushed. "That isn't necessary. She wasn't in any danger. Honestly I feel a bit stupid I believed they would have seriously let her get hurt."
If anything the four Delacours' smiles widened at that, Apolline putting their collective thoughts into words. "Ah, but that alone is good reason to thank you, young man. You truly believed our daughter was in danger, and so you saved her. It doesn't matter if it ended up unnecessary, the fact that you did so shows your character."
Harry smiled sadly at that. "That's kind of you to say, but good intentions don't always lead to good outcomes…"
Fleur gave him another hug. "William told me about your Godfather, Harry. I'm sorry."
Harry let himself be held, simply soaking in the comfort Fleur was offering while he could. Then he moved back as she released him. "Right. Anyway, would you all care to join me for some refreshment? Wandering this museum is tiring."
Jean-Luc laughed lightly. "It is indeed. We'd be delighted."
After the French family had bought food and drinks they all sat with Harry and began to ask him about his time at Hogwarts, and Harry proceeded to respond with some of the less life threatening stories in his arsenal. Soon enough talk turned towards his vacation.
"What do you think of Paris so far, Harry?" Apolline asked as she sipped her cappuccino, a small smile on her face.
"Well, I only just arrived last night, and I was so tired that I didn't really pay attention, but so far it's been wonderful. The Louvre was my first stop to sightsee though, so I haven't seen all that much yet."
"So you have not been to the magical side of the city, then." Jean-Luc stated as he enjoyed an eclair.
"No. I figured I'd take in the mundane sights first. Why?" Harry asked.
"If you're interested in antiques and old art, I would recommend you go to Rue de la Fraternité before noon tomorrow. Nicholas Flamel is doing something unprecedented and having an estate sale, getting rid of all his valuables. All the collectors and historians in the city are going mad over the mere idea."
Fluer's eyes went wide. "He's selling all his art and artifacts? Why!?"
"There are rumors that he has decided his time on this Earth is over. The fact that every bit of coin he makes off the sale will go to various charities reinforces the notion."
Harry was silent for a moment, a pit in his gut, before he nodded to Jean-Luc. "Thank you. I believe I'll take your advice. At the very least it sounds interesting, and… I wouldn't mind meeting Monsieur Flamel…"
Gabrielle, bored of this conversation, cut in. "Are we done? I wanted to see the Renaissance section." She turned to Harry. "You'll join us, won't you, Harry? It'll be more fun to be with us than alone." She looked at him plaintively.
Harry couldn't help but smile. "Sure, I don't see why not." He chuckled when the girl cheered happily, setting aside his heavy thoughts to enjoy the rest of the day.
Harry returned to his hotel room that evening with a smile on his face after a fun day wandering about the Louvre with the Delacour family. Gabrielle had been more than happy to talk his ear off as they walked among the art, pelting him with questions and dragging him about as her family looked on with amusedly indulgent smiles on their faces. His phone was now full of pictures, and not just of the art.
Ordering some room service once again Harry got comfortable before taking a seat on one of the room's plush chairs to relax after a day full of walking. As he did his mind turned to the rest of his time in Paris. He already knew what he was going to be doing the next day, however.
Ever since Jean-Luc had informed him about Flamel's estate sale it had been in the back of his mind. He knew that, if nothing else, he needed to talk to the old alchemist about his part in the man's impending end. And the things Hermione would do to him if he didn't at least try to get her a book from Flamel's collection didn't bear thinking about. Who knows, he might even get lucky and find the thing that could kill Voldemort among all the artifacts.
Smiling in amusement at the thought he debated on what to do for the rest of the night. He could watch some television, something that he never really had much of a chance to do, but then he remembered the books Cassandra sold him because her sight told him they would be useful.
Pulling the two books out of his trunk he glanced from one to the other, trying to decide which one to start with. On the one hand, The Battle Mage's Compendium sounded very interesting. The title alone gave the impression of powerful and destructive spells. On the other hand, he had a halfway decent array of offensive and defensive magic in his arsenal already, and he didn't know the first thing about healing. And considering the kinds of scrapes he usually ended up getting into, a way to heal himself or others could only be a good thing.
Setting the books aside when room service knocked at the door he allowed the food in, tipping the attendant generously. Taking the cover off the meal of boeuf bourguignon Harry began to salivate, only just then realizing how hungry he was. Forgetting all about his reading material options he fell upon the food, making sure to savor it despite his hunger.
Once his stomach was satisfied Harry went back to what he had been doing. After another minute or so of consideration he turned set his charging phone to play some music from the bluetooth speaker that came with the room, though it took him a second or two to figure it out. Then he picked up A Grimoire for White Mages and sat down to read.
The next morning Harry sipped some coffee between yawns and sleepy blinks, having gotten up early so he would have time to find the entrance to the magical district of Paris without issues.
He'd lost track of time the previous night reading the Grimoire, immersed in the many new spells and the simple, muggle friendly way they were explained with. He could see that Cassandra had been right about the author, as a few gaming terms were sprinkled in the text. Not in any way that would detract from the experience, but definitely enough that a pureblood would at least be a bit puzzled.
In the end he hadn't gone to bed till almost four in the morning, and he was feeling the effects of so little sleep combined with the activity from the previous day. Which was why he'd switched his habitual tea for some strong coffee.
He'd never been a huge coffee drinker before, but much as with his liking of art that was mainly due to lack of exposure. He found he rather liked some of the sweeter, flavored varieties. The one time he'd tried black coffee had been enough.
Stepping out of the cab when it stopped, once again tipping well when he paid, he looked around at where he'd ended up. It was an old, unassuming street that looked like many others in Paris. However, the guidebook he'd bought at Cassandra's backed up Jean-Luc's statement that this was the entrance to the magical center of Paris.
According to the book, he should be able to access it simply by walking through an old painting of the French flag on an even older wall. Finding the painting he glanced around before stepping through, finding himself transported, much like the entrance to Nine and Ten Quarters at Kings Cross, to someplace else. Rue Merveilleux.
It reminded him of Diagon Alley, with the older architecture that in some cases could only be held up with magic, and the many people walking about in robes, doing their shopping. However, the street was quite a bit wider, allowing more foot traffic, and it somehow seemed a bit cleaner.
Shaking off his initial reaction Harry took another sip of hot coffee and turned left, following the directions Jean-Luc had given him before they parted the previous day. He remained focused on his destination, trying not to look around too much at the many shops surrounding him so he wouldn't be sidetracked.
Soon enough he arrived at a large, official looking building, the name 'Enzo's Seller House' on a sign above it. Seeing he'd arrived at his destination he dumped his now empty coffee cup in a bin nearby and made his way in.
Despite the time, over an hour before the sale proper would begin, there were already several people inside looking over the many things displayed on the show floor, obviously already deciding what they wanted to obtain.
Walking into the large room Harry glanced around, taking various things in. There was quite a bit of nice, nearly ancient looking furniture that would likely fetch a high price. There was a section full of artwork, both mundane and magical, paintings and sculptures, all of which had several very wealthy looking people looking over them intently. Another, much less trafficked section had what appeared to be tables covered in various trinkets and pieces of jewelry. Only two people were looking that over, but Harry wondered if that might not be where some of the more valuable pieces were. For all he knew there might be a ring that could turn you into Superman amongst all of it.
Finally he spotted the main section he wanted to look at, the books. He was not a bibliophile like Hermione was, but the idea of all the potentially powerful as all hell spells there could be among the pages definitely got his attention.
The book section had four solid oak bookcases loaded down with a multitude of books of various sizes and ages. Three people were there, a man and a woman looking over the many volumes intently, and another man observing them.
The observer was an older man of about seventy, well dressed in a high priced charcoal grey mundane suit. He had a shrewd yet oddly kind face, with blue eyes and well combed silver hair. He was watching all the people attending the sale intently, seeming almost protective of all the items.
Figuring that this man was probably someone in charge of making sure the estate sale went well Harry made his way over to speak with him before beginning his own browsing.
"Excuse me." Harry asked as he approached, drawing the older man's attention to him. "I was wondering if Nicholas Flamel was in attendance for the sale."
The man raised an eyebrow as he watched the teen approach. "May I ask why you wish to speak with him, young man?"
Harry ducked his head, feeling uncomfortable, but answering anyway. "Let's just say… I'm part of the reason he's having this estate sale in the first place…"
The man's other eyebrow joined the first before he smiled. Glancing to see that the people perusing the books had moved away he turned back to Harry. "Well now, Monsieur Potter, I wondered if we'd ever meet before my time ended…"
Harry's eyes snapped back up, understanding dawning immediately. "Monsieur Flamel?" When Flamel nodded Harry scratched the back of his head. "Oh, ah, it's nice to meet you?" He cringed at the lame words that escaped him.
"Indeed." Flamel said, amused, before holding his hand out to shake. "Call me Nicholas, though."
Harry shook the man's hand. "Harry, sir."
"I'm surprised to see you here, Harry. I figured Albus would be keeping you safe and sound in your home in Britain, considering the current troubles." Nicholas said mildly, no censure in his voice, just curiosity.
"He doesn't know I'm here." Harry admitted, hoping the multi-centenarian wouldn't turn him in. "After everything that happened last year, I couldn't handle even the thought of staying where Dumbledore wanted me. I need to decompress or I'm going to simply go mad and begin a killing spree."
Nicholas chuckled. "I'm not surprised, honestly. Just the things I've heard about tell me that you need some time away." He sighed slightly, a rueful smile on his face. "Albus has always had a bit of trouble understanding that, as well intentioned as his actions and ideas may be, they aren't always what's best for his people. It comes with being so old and so respected. I went through something similar a few centuries back. It's hard to not think you've got all the answers when you've got so much experience. Unfortunately that often just means that your mistakes are that much greater."
Harry nodded in understanding. "So are you going to call Dumbledore and tell him I'm here?"
The old man looked at him, considering it, before shaking his head. "No, I don't think I will. Like I said, I agree with your need to relax. And I like your independence. As long as you are careful I won't say anything." Looking at him critically he continued. "However, you do need some way to disguise yourself, at least when you're in magical areas. You are rather well known after all." He motioned for the teen to follow as he headed to the tables full of trinkets.
Harry followed curiously even as he felt himself relax with relief that his vacation hadn't been cut short just yet. Stepping beside Flamel he looked down at the many items on the tables, seeing now that they had cards with details and even enchantment descriptions with them.
"Now then, where was it…" The Frenchman scanned the many items before reaching down and picking up what appeared to be a pendant made of an odd, ebony colored metal that reflected the light strangely dangling on a fine silver chain. The image on the dark metal was of an open eye, a small, glittering prismatic gem taking place of the iris that seemed to shine faintly with all the colors of the rainbow.
Nicholas handed the pendant to Harry, who took it carefully. "This item is ancient, even by my standards, and has a very interesting little effect. While you're wearing it the vast majority of people will be unable to remember what you look like, or connect you with your true self if they'd seen you before. It doesn't truly obscure your face, more making people think that your features are unimportant, though thankfully they will still 'recognize' you if you need to talk to somebody multiple times. I believe the non-magical community have named the effect a 'perception filter' which I think works well. And thankfully, this particular example allows you to be recognized by people you want with just you willing it."
Harry examined the pendant, now very interested. "That's amazing, and definitely sounds useful. How much?"
"Take it." Flamel said with a shrug. "Honestly, I was a bit on the fence about selling it, considering the potential for abuse it has. I'd feel much better if someone like you had it."
Harry shook his head. "I can't take it without giving you anything for it."
"I insist." Flamel said firmly. When Harry looked down and muttered something he raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, what was that?"
"Why would you do this for one of the reasons you're going to die?" He said a bit more audibly, though still taking care not to be heard by the other patrons.
Nicholas observed Harry briefly, eyes narrowed. "Is this why you initially wished to speak to me?" He said gently.
"I just… Dumbledore told me four years ago that you'd decided to destroy the stone and allow yourself to die. And… I mean, intellectually I guess I understand, but… I just…" Harry clenched his teeth. "I don't understand how you can accept it so easily, and why you don't hate me for being part of the reason you had to make the decision in the first place…"
Nicholas stared at Harry before letting out a long, slow breath. "Harry, I don't blame you because you never set out to kill me. You did what you thought was right, to keep my stone out of Voldemort's clutches. That's worth far more than my life." He moved to sit down at one of the antique chairs that faced slightly away from the room, motioning for Harry to join him on another, the teen doing so. "I'm old, Harry. Very, very old. Far older than any man should be. During that time I have seen amazing things. I have lived through the Renaissance, and met da Vinci, Michalangelo and Mozart. I have seen the entire world become mapped, with empires rising to the greatest heights, only to be brought low by those seeking to make their own destiny. I have seen the non-magical world go from a fearful, superstitious people to a collective billions strong that has landed on the moon and reached even further into the stars, something most magicals haven't even thought to do. I've seen the world become interconnected to a level never thought possible only a century ago, leading to new ideas and discoveries that leave me in awe." He briefly pulled an iPhone out of his with a cheeky smile before putting it away. Then the smile dropped.
"I have also seen the evils of humanity to go with the beauty. I have seen more wars and atrocities occur that you would believe, including two World Wars within fifty years. I have seen racism and xenophobia infect the entire world, and governments abuse their own people in methods unheard of. Dark Lords as evil as Voldemort continue to appear and commit atrocities, the apathy of the common people emboldening them. I've seen human greed ravage the world, ruining its natural beauty and endangering the future."
He leaned forward as he looked at Harry, elbows on his knees. "I have seen all of that, Harry, far more than I should have, and I feel both privileged and tired. And though a part of me wishes I could see what comes next for the world, and another fears what might come next for me, I know, and have known for some time, that I've been here long enough. And Perenelle agrees with me. That's why she's busily arranging things with the many charities we support."
Harry sat, taking everything the ancient alchemist had said in, before breathing out softly. "I don't think I could accept death as easily…"
Nicholas chuckled softly. "Ah, Harry, you're young. You've still got so much to see and do. Trust me when I say, that once you're an old man, surrounded by great grandchildren, you will see differently." He sat back in his seat. "There is always a fear of the unknown, Harry. That's natural. Just don't let it control you. It did me, once. That's why I'm still here." He looked at Harry sharply. "Besides, from the stories Albus has told me, you have already faced death before."
"But that's because I had to. Because there was something more important on the line, most of the time. Like saving your stone." Harry argued.
"And that shows that you're already more accepting of death than most. Voldemort himself is so utterly terrified of death that the mere idea of risking himself like you would likely send him screaming to the hills." He patted the teen's knee with a reassuring smile. "Everything ends, Harry. And while I'm not saying you should rush towards your own end, don't shy away from it when it comes."
Harry nodded slowly. "I'll… think on all of this…"
Flamel nodded with a smile, glancing up at the rest of the room briefly as he allowed Harry a moment. His smile dropped immediately and he quickly turned to Harry. "Harry, put the pendant on now." He hissed.
Harry was startled by the change in tone, but upon seeing how serious Nicholas was he quickly did as told, slipping the silver chain over his head. He didn't feel anything different, but seeing Nicholas nod with satisfaction he decided it was working. When the other man stood to face someone approaching Harry turned to see who it was.
Walking towards them was a man with pale blonde hair tied in a neat braid. He had hard, blunt features made worse by the unpleasant smile on his face, cold eyes snapping to Nicholas. He was attired in rich, flowing ropes that denoted wealth and some position of power.
"Nicholas Flamel…" The man said upon reaching them, his voice hard, as though trying to bludgeon those around into listening.
"Corban Yaxley…" Nicholas said coldly, making Harry tense.
He recognized the name. Moody had made sure that all of the teens knew it, among many others.
Corban Yaxley, one of Voldemort's Inner Circle.
"Bloody hell." Harry muttered under his breath, wondering how his luck could get worse.
The second winner of my patron poll is here!
I've worked in the service industry, a short time at a Burger King when I was a teen, and then about 8 years in hotel. I always tip well, because I know just what kind of BS those people put up with. And so Harry will always be nice and generous.
One day during my job at the hotel I went to deliver a minifridge to a room on the ground floor and came across the guests on their way to the attached casino, who asked if it was the one they asked for. When I said yes one of the women moved to tip me, pulling a twenty out of her pocket. Her friend told her to let her take care of it, and proceeded to pull out another twenty. Then a ten. Then a five. Then some coins. In the end I ended up getting 75 cents. Even the other woman stared at her like 'WTF?'.
Always, ALWAYS tip your service people if they do a good job.
I did my best to research things in this chapter thoroughly, including going to the Louvre's official website. I'm doing my best to do this right.
Not much else to say in this chapter. I had Harry meeting Flamel in Paris in mind since the beginning. We never get a death date for Flamel, so I can easily see it taking several years to put his estate in order. And now Harry has a way to hide his identity. You thought I forgot that, didn't you?
As always, please remember that you can have a say in what I write if you donate to my Pat A Ron page. Each dollar donated gives you a vote in the monthly poll. That's at Pat A Ron dotcom /athanmortis.
Till next time, thanks for reading, and please review.