Chapter 7: Love Potions and Cigarettes

"In the events of a poisoning, take the master immediately to an expert to undo the damage. Alternatively, forcing a bezoar into the stomach will be adequate first response. If there is no hope, slit along the jugular to put the master out of his misery" – Instruction for a Magical Manservant, pg.80

Seeing his master change, even for just a split second, bothered the Genie.

Harry was sitting up with his back straight, his chest puffed up, and a somewhat charming smile was playing on his lips. Stevens described it as 'somewhat charming.' Nobody could really be charming under the dirty mop that is the boy's hair. It's rather odd seeing that he was only away for a mere five minutes that the boy would seem… happier.

Stevens grunted to himself. The thought that his master is happy while he was away does not please him. He is an all-powerful and magnificent Genie, his master should be happiest when he is with him.

With that slightly twisted logic and a wounded pride, the genie made a beeline straight to the small corner table, his mind set on rectifying the problem. The boy noticed him coming and the smile changed into an expression that is best described as 'blimely-not-now Stevens.'

"Oh hello there. May we help you?" a chirp young voice called out from the other side of the table. Stevens stopped and turned around. He was so focused on harry that he barely noticed the pretty young thing sitting across from him. He couldn't really explain it but he did not like the sight of the girl at all.

The girl if pretty enough, sure. A full figured blond with the right curves revealed in all the right places. Her face is small and beautiful, with pair of strong blue eyes that twinkled with pride. She's of nobility, Steven was sure of it, but he wasn't sure if he liked her. There was just something about her that's simply all too familiar.

"Eh Stevens?" Harry called out nervously, hoping that the new girl wouldn't be too offended by his butler staring at her.

Stevens noticed Harry's voice. Was he… embarrassed by him? Well that simply wouldn't do. "My… what a dress you're a wearing." He said with a hint of disdain in his voice. The girl's smile melted into a visible frown.

Well, if she wasn't offended by the staring, she surely is offended by that comment now. Harry slumped back into the chair and began to let go of the notion of a new and beautiful romance. Instead od blushing bashfully, the girls eyes darken dangerously.

"I don't think I appreciate your tone, butler." The girl said icily, her chirpy little voice lowered into a dangerous rumble. Steven chuckled. Humans are so easy to toy with.

"Of course you don't. As much as I would like to apologize, we have a very important engagement to attend to. I will be waiting outside, sir."

With long steady strides Stevens walked out of the small café into a drizzling London street, itching to suddenly punch something. On his way out he could hear bits and pieces of Harry's voice, how he promised to see the girl again. How pathetic. Every single one of his masters are the same. A little cleavage here, and a flirtatious smile there and most men are suddenly willing to give up their life for a plain-faced girl.

'If he wanted a little tart to play with on the side, he should've wished for a French maid instead of a butler.'

He didn't know why he was so bothered with his master flirting and smiling without him. Maybe it's the realization that he's not the only one that his master lean on. 'Unlike master Regulus.' Before he could ponder on the thought, his master joined him with the faintest hint of a smile on his face.

"She's cute huh?"

Stevens didn't know how to answer that, so he opted to stay quiet and opened an umbrella for his master instead. "Let us finish this last errand and we can get out of this horrid weather and into someplace warmer. Oh I know, I can draw you a nice warm bath, what do you think of that sir?"

"I think I rather be snuggled up with Cera Glenette to warm myself up." Harry sighed mournfully, leaning his head on the butler's shoulder. "I miss her already Stevens."

"Yes, yes sir. Of course." He waved his hand impatiently. "You can owl her when we get home. But for now-"

"Lets go home then!"

"Sir.."

The genie stopped dead on his track. Something doesn't seem right. "Sir if I may…" he leaned down held Harry's face firmly in his hand. Instead of resisting, Harry simply stared back at him with a large dopey smile on his face.

"Hi." Harry giggled, scrunching up his nose. If he wasn't acting so strangely Stevens would have thought that it was cute. Harry looked straight past him, his eyes cloudy and glazed. No only that, but his reaction time is slow, and no matter what Steven said he would always connect it back to the girl that they just met.

"Sir?"

"Mmmhmm!"

"I think you're under a spell."

Harry woke up with a blinding headache. In his head, he imagined a small hateful pixie stabbing his brain with an ice pick. Even in that scenario the pain wouldn't be as horrible as this is. He tried to open his eyes, but the light only intensifies the pain. "Stevens." He croaked out. His throat felt on fire. "Stevens!" He called again, this time with more urgency.

The mattress shifted and Harry could feel small nimble hand dancing around his forehead. A woman's voice echoed inside his head. The pain intensifies.

"Wha-STEVENS!" he pushed the hand away, blindly throwing punches up in the air, but the hand persisted and grabbed his head in a tight claw. He screamed, kicked, clawed, he did everything he could do to escape the blinding pain.

Slap!

Harry's cheeks burned red. The sting of the slap was almost as bad as the pain inside his head. Almost.

"I'mma tryn' to save you laddie, now untwist ye knickers or I'll slag ye on th' wallies this time." A thick Scottish accent drawled out from behind him. Wait, was that a girl's voice?

A familiar voice laughed from behind him. "She will do it you know. And I'm not sure what a wallies is sir, so if I were you, I would sit still. "

Harry blindly reached out to the direction of the voice. He was blind with fear and disbelief. The thought of him losing his eyesight was too horrible for him to be mad to his butler. Stevens took pity on the sight of his master and laced his hand with the lad. He'll do anything to ease his heart. "Stevens." Harry breathed out in relief, shaking like a lone leaf in autumn.

"Yes master I'm here. You're going to be fine. The miss is just going to fix you up alright?" He cooed. Harry blindly latched onto his arm and nodded uncertainly. Despite his master was in mortal terror, the genie smiled anyways. The near-death-poisoning aside, It was nice to be needed.

Even in total darkness Harry could feel the stranger rolled her eyes in irritation. "Aight boys nuff touching and such." Another slap was heard. "You! On 'e corner! Stay on e nook till I call you back ye lil' bufty."

"I really don't understand half of your sentences miss, but I beg you, please stop hurting my Lord."

"Hurting ye Lord?! Ha! It not mah fault ye master go around wullie-nilly swallyin love potions, an expired one much less!" a laud huff and a loud banging on the corner table. Harry did everything that he could to not flinch. "Ye wee lordies are the same. Year after year there is always someone trying tae marry ye for your dosh but ye ne'er learn. Ne'er!"

"Dosh?"

A despairing sigh and a slap could be heard. "O boyo. This wee lad is a tad bit slow eh genie?"

"Don't answer that Stevens!"

"Should we chap him up eh genie?"

"Chap?"

Before an answer could be heard, Harry was once again swallowed into unconsciousness, his jaw stinging worse than his head.

In many ways, Harry Potter is a very unusual boy.

One, he never used his wand, not once since they arrived to Black Manor. If he wanted to get something, he would get up and retrieve it instead of casting Accio. As a servant of wizards, Stevens couldn't comprehend this odd phenomenon. At first he attributed to the boy being raised by muggles, but then the genie realized that he never have his wand with him. Steven concluded that his Master is simply bad at magic.

Two, he prefers the company of himself, but he's happiest when he's around people. In the first week he was at the Manor, he was alone, tortured and was overcame with a miasma. He said he didn't mind the solitude, that it clears his mind. However, on the first hour in the surface world, Steven noticed his Master smiling more than he did in the first week he was in the Manor. Steven concluded that his Master is socially inept and is a horrible liar.

Three, he just picked a fight with a Hextechnologist. Because of this, Steven concluded that his Master is indeed an idiot. Combined together, these three facts are the reasons why Lord Harry Potter Black was hanging helplessly from the manor's ceiling with his underwear out.

"Oy! Wishin' demon. Peel the wee lordie off the ceiling an' bring me a cuppa would ya? After that we kin blether about payment for mah services." The young lady said, sitting down on a sofa and putting her feet up against the ivory carved table.

"Right away miss Prince." Steven smiled stiffly, trying very hard to resist the urge to scold the young miss about her manners. After all, he didn't fancy himself getting plastered to the ceiling next to his master.

The young lady smirked, crossing her leg is satisfaction. She just love putting rich snoobs in their place.

AAAAAA

"Why didn't you help me?!" Harry hissed as he is being slowly levitated down by his loyal servant.

"Several reason sir. Firstly, you were the one who initiated the fight. Secondly, You were fighting a lady and I cannot in good conscience aid you in that matter. Thirdly-"

"Alright. Fine. Whatever. Just hurry up and take me down…" Harry growled, eager to go on a second round with the red haired witch.

"Only if you promise to not pick a fight with Miss Prince."

'Drat.' He thought."Fine, fine. I wont try and fight her anymore."

Stevens huffed indignantly, offering a hand to help his master get back on his feet. "As you should not. Its bad manners to pick a fight with someone who just saved your life."

Harry took the proffered hand, trying to make sense of the events that just occurred. "Saved my life? Wasn't she the one who was hurting me?"

"Hertin' ye? Ha!" The red headed lady laughed, lighting a cigarette and blowing the smoke carelessly. "Ye'v juist bin slipped wi' a loue potion laddie. A very ol' and powerful un too. Th' genie 'ere brought ye tae mah shop tae fix ye up, bit ye wur tae far gone fer me tae fix. Soo ah took ye home 'n' hud a ritual done tae expell th' magic oot o' th' potion. Clear enough wee lordie?"

Harry stared at her, unsure if she was mocking him. "Eh, what?"

"Just bring me a basilisk egg 'n' we kin ca' it even eh wee lordie? Translate that tae th' boyo eh genie?"

"Again, what?"

The lady laughed, clearly enjoying the situation. She threw her cigarette down to the floor and stomped it with her dragon hide boots, drawing a rune circle with the leftover ashes. "Ta fer now!" she waved, and in a flash of light, she was gone. A lone cigarette but lay pathetically on the floor.

Harry stared at the genie blankly. "I am so confused right now."

Stevens rubbed his forehead, groaning in disbelief. Not only does he have to tell his master to obtain a bassilik egg, he now has to scrub the manor floor all over again. How the hell is he going to explain that to his master?