Harry was reading one of his new books when George returned. Oddly, what alerted him was the sudden presence of a weary entity sharing his space. (Since when had he acquired such a sensitive instinct?) And when he looked up…
The man was clad in the uniform of the Royal Marine, although Harry could not tell which rank. He looked like a man in a mission, given his grim countenance, dusty boots and belted weapons – a pistol and a knife, it seemed. Something offset his fearsome appearance, though: a tray of what looked like two sets of meals.
Still, Harry shrank away warily. He only relaxed – a little – when George greeted him good evening, to which he replied likewise in a murmur. He could not help letting out a small relieved sigh when George removed his weapons and stowed them away, after putting the tray on the writing desk. And he fully relaxed only after George had changed his clothes, joining him at the writing desk for supper. (That brought the question of why George bothered bringing the tray himself, when Harry had been treated with meals popping up on itself on the writing desk during the man's absence, but Harry did not have the nerve yet to ask.)
The beginning of their supper was stilted and uncomfortable, but then George reached into his pocket and came out with the blue stone Harry had been quite familiar with. The sight of the stone made Harry gasp, and he automatically reached out a hand to take it.
"You can go to Ardila whenever you would. I shall escort you there," George said nonchalantly, looking meaningfully at the stone now in Harry's nervous clutch. "I take it you ran away from your family?"
Harry gulped, suddenly losing his appetite. "Relatives, Sir," he mumbled at the sausage he had been about to eat. Had his motifs been that transparent?
No, he must not give George more reason to suspect anything. So, as calmly as he could, he said, "I'm on my own till the first of September, Sir. I'm going to school then."
"You can stay with some of us until then," George replied just as easily. "You can avoid pursuit in that way, and I'm sure you can learn some to prepare yourself for school meanwhile."
– `Some of us? Avoid pursuit? Prepare for school?`
Harry stared uncomprehendingly at the stoic man opposite him, who continued eating as if his ideas were perfectly ordinary. Thankfully, albeit in the same matter-of-fact tone, George then elaborated, "You are an unusual individual for the magical community of the great Britain, Harry. You have to adapt to it or find your way out of it."
Harry winced. But George did not apologise for causing him discomfort. Instead the man added, "We'll help you plan and learn as much as we can. But in the end you are alone out there, and we mustn't be seen."
Great… a conspiracy. But strangely, it brought a smile to Harry's face.