CHAPTER 30 : FRENCH REVERIE
Harry stirred from his slumber, the morning light filtering through the curtains as he slowly became aware of the retching sounds emanating from the ensuite. His brow furrowed in concern, wondering what could be causing such distress.
The past week had been an oasis of tranquility, a welcome respite from the usual chaos that seemed to follow him like a shadow. Tonks had embarked on her journey back to school, leaving Harry and Sirius to their own devices. They hadn't entertained any visitors since the fateful dinner with the elder Blacks, and Harry found himself immersed in solitary pursuits.
His days were consumed by the arduous task of delving into the dark arts books nestled within his trunk, scouring their pages for any semblance of a solution to the vexing problem of his younger self's Horcruxes. Each page turned revealed new layers of complexity, and Harry grappled with the unprecedented nature of his predicament. Never before had a soul been split so many times, and the absence of historical precedent weighed heavily on his shoulders.
As he delved deeper into his research, Harry's thoughts turned to the possibility of a ritual capable of extracting the soul shard lodged within his younger self. Yet, caution tempered his optimism, for any misstep could irreparably harm the fragile magic of his younger counterpart. It was a delicate balance, one that demanded patience and precision.
But amidst the weight of his burdens, Harry couldn't ignore the pressing need to chart a course for his own future. The prospect of idling away his days without purpose gnawed at him, and he resolved to find a meaningful pursuit. With his varied skill set, the options were plentiful, but the path forward necessitated bureaucratic hurdles.
Before he could pursue any legitimate career, Harry knew he must first navigate the bureaucratic labyrinth of the Department of Education. Setting up appointments, scheduling examinations for his O. and N.E. , it all loomed as a daunting task, stretching out before him like an uncharted wilderness waiting to be traversed. Yet, with determination etched into his features, Harry knew that this was but the first step on his journey toward a brighter tomorrow.
In the quiet moments of contemplation, Harry found himself at a crossroads, pondering the trajectory of his future. He had spent nearly a year as an Auror, finding fulfillment in the pursuit of justice, yet the allure of ward-breaking tugged at his curiosity. However, the thought of navigating the intricacies of Goblin bureaucracy left him apprehensive.
Another option loomed on the horizon, one that whispered of danger and uncertainty: becoming a mercenary. The prospect of undertaking clandestine tasks for affluent purebloods, much like his clandestine work for Narcissa, promised both excitement and financial reward. It was a path fraught with moral ambiguity, yet Harry couldn't deny the allure of the shadows.
His musings were interrupted by the creak of the bathroom door, heralding Bellatrix's emergence. The pallor of her complexion spoke volumes, and Harry's concern deepened as she reached for a vial of blue liquid, its contents promising relief from her ailment.
"Are you alright?" Harry inquired, his gaze fixed on her with genuine concern.
Bellatrix's response came with a hint of strain, her voice betraying the discomfort she sought to conceal. "Yes, Cissa assured me it's only temporary."
Harry's brow furrowed in concern. "Shouldn't we take you to St. Mungo's for a check-up?"
"Not yet, but I'll schedule an appointment before the wedding," Bellatrix replied, her resolve tinged with a hint of apprehension.
Curiosity gnawed at Harry's mind as he probed further. "How long have you been experiencing this morning sickness?"
"Two weeks," Bellatrix confessed, a shadow passing over her features. "Cissa endured it for over a month and a half."
The weight of realization settled upon Harry's shoulders, the implications of Bellatrix's revelation stirring a whirlwind of emotions within him. As the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, he couldn't help but wonder what the future held for them all.
Harry's exclamation elicited a sympathetic nod from Bellatrix, their shared sentiment hanging in the air like a heavy fog.
"So, what's on the agenda for today?" Bellatrix inquired, already beginning to dress for the day ahead.
"We're meeting Sirius to visit the Black property in France," Harry replied, his voice laced with anticipation as he made his way toward the bathroom.
Bellatrix's eyes lit up with excitement. "Ah, I remember that place! It's right by the sea, isn't it?"
Once he had tended to his immediate needs, Harry reentered the room to find Bellatrix adorned in a set of robes that resembled a summer dress, their deep purple hue complementing her figure exquisitely.
"That looks lovely on you," Harry remarked, his admiration evident in his gaze.
"Thank you," Bellatrix replied with a smile. "It's sweltering in Nice, so I opted for something a bit more breathable."
As Harry slipped into a pair of jeans, a thought crossed his mind, one that he couldn't shake. "Would you be open to the idea of getting married there?" he ventured, his heart pounding with nervous anticipation.
A radiant smile spread across Bellatrix's face, her eyes sparkling with joy. "Yes, a French wedding sounds absolutely romantic. And we could whisk away our guests after the reception and enjoy our honeymoon there as well."
In that moment, amidst the mundane tasks of dressing and planning, Harry felt a surge of excitement for the future they were building together. The prospect of a French wedding, surrounded by loved ones and the beauty of the Mediterranean, filled him with a sense of hope and anticipation for the journey that lay ahead.
"Fair enough, let's see the place first before we decide," Harry agreed, slipping on a comfortable tee-shirt as he mulled over the idea of a French wedding.
Bellatrix's innocent question about sunbathing in France momentarily distracted him, conjuring vivid images that sent a dreamy smile dancing across his lips. "Hmm," he murmured, lost in the fantasy of Bellatrix basking in the Mediterranean sun.
But Bellatrix's tug back to reality was swift and effective. "Come on, Harry, I'm starving," she insisted, pulling him back from his reverie.
"Right, food it is," Harry replied, following her down to the kitchen.
As they discussed meal options, Bellatrix's suggestion of bacon sandwiches elicited a grin from Harry. "Bacon sandwiches it is," he affirmed, heading to the kitchen to whip up their meal.
With practiced ease, Harry assembled the sandwiches, relishing the sizzle of the bacon and the aroma of buttery bread filling the kitchen. In no time, he levitated a plate of sandwiches and a jug of orange juice out onto the deck, where Bellatrix eagerly awaited.
Bellatrix wasted no time in seizing a sandwich and taking a hearty bite, her expression one of pure bliss. Harry joined her, savoring the crispy bacon and the indulgent flavors melding together perfectly.
Between mouthfuls, Bellatrix turned to him with genuine curiosity. "Where did you learn to cook?" she inquired, her interest piqued.
Harry chuckled, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "I thought you already read my mind?" he teased, before diving back into his sandwich with gusto.
Bellatrix's confession drew a thoughtful nod from Harry as he reached for another sandwich. "I see. Well, I grew up with my Aunt Petunia and her husband. They had me cooking their breakfast every morning, although I rarely got to enjoy the fruits of my labor," he explained before taking another bite.
Bellatrix's incredulous expression prompted Harry to elaborate. "Yes, I served Muggles. But that all changed when I received my Hogwarts letter," he reassured her.
Her expression darkened with indignation. "That's despicable. Where do they live?" she asked, a dangerous glint flickering in her eyes.
"Surrey. But please, Bella, let's not dwell on them," Harry interjected gently, sensing the direction her thoughts were veering.
Bellatrix's petulant response was swift. "Fine, but they should suffer for what they did," she insisted, her tone tinged with resentment.
"They haven't done anything yet," Harry reminded her, his voice calm but firm.
With a huff, Bellatrix conceded, albeit reluctantly. "Hmph."
The tranquility of their breakfast was soon interrupted by the unmistakable whoosh of the Floo, heralding Sirius's arrival. Harry's amusement bubbled up at the sight of his godfather, who wasted no time in helping himself to the last sandwich, much to Bellatrix's chagrin.
"Good morning," Sirius greeted cheerfully as he settled into a seat at the table.
"Where's mini me?" Harry inquired with a grin, amused by the thought of his younger counterpart causing mischief.
"With Cissa. He's still too young to travel by portkey just yet," Sirius explained between bites of the stolen sandwich.
Harry's surprise was evident as he responded, "Huh, I didn't know age mattered with portkeys."
Bellatrix chimed in after finishing her meal, shedding light on the matter. "Portkeys draw magic from whoever is using them."
Turning his attention to Sirius, Harry inquired, "Are we ready to go?"
"Yeah, I've got the portkey right here. But let's activate it down on the beach," Sirius replied, popping the last morsel of sandwich into his mouth, earning an irritated glare from Bellatrix.
"I'll make you a big lunch when we return," Harry promised, offering Bellatrix his hand to help her up.
They followed Sirius down the steps toward the beach, the Marauder whistling a cheerful tune as they walked.
As they reached the sandy shore, Bellatrix spoke up, her voice low but determined. "Okay, I want spaghetti and meatballs. Bella will still be getting him back for stealing her food."
Harry noticed a subtle shiver pass through Sirius at Bellatrix's words, a testament to her formidable culinary skills.
Stopping at a suitable spot, Sirius produced a large bronze skeleton key from his pocket. "This should be good. The portkey will return us within thirty feet of this spot."
Harry nodded in understanding, realizing the potential danger if they had activated the portkey from the deck. It was a risk they were wise to avoid.
With practiced ease, Sirius offered his hand, and Harry and Bellatrix placed their index fingers on the key. "Black Villa," Sirius intoned.
A familiar sensation of uncomfortable pulling seized Harry's navel, signaling their departure into the swirling blue vortex of the portkey.
As they landed on the soft white sand, Harry momentarily doubted they had departed at all, until he beheld the breathtaking expanse of the sapphire blue sea stretching out before them. The tranquil waves gently lapped against the shore, painting a picture of serenity unlike anything he had ever witnessed. The warmth of the sun enveloped them, casting a golden glow over the idyllic scene.
"Welcome to Black Villa," Sirius declared with a flourish, his pride evident in his voice.
Harry turned to take in their surroundings and was met with the sight of a magnificent house standing proudly atop a small cliff a few hundred yards away. Stairs, intricately cut into the stone, wound their way up to the grand entrance.
"It's incredible," Harry breathed, his gaze lingering on the majestic abode before them.
"Just wait until you see the house," Bellatrix exclaimed, her excitement palpable.
Sirius beckoned them forward, leading the way to the staircase carved into the cliff face. As they ascended, Harry couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity that washed over him. The stone walls flanking the staircase reminded him of Hogwarts, evoking memories of secret passages and hidden chambers.
Upon reaching the top, they stepped onto a sprawling lawn, the vibrant greenery contrasting beautifully with the azure sky above. With eager anticipation, they made their way across the expanse, eager to explore the wonders that awaited them within Black Villa.
The villa stood in all its grandeur, a testament to centuries of Black family heritage. Its two stories boasted walls crafted from pristine white stone, adorned with numerous large arched windows on both levels. Harry's eyes were drawn to a sizable balcony facing the sea, likely part of the master bedroom, offering panoramic views of the breathtaking scenery.
A sea of grey terracotta tiles adorned the roof, devoid of chimneys—a design choice well-suited to the temperate climate. To the right of the villa, a covered patio beckoned with a large table and chairs, inviting guests to dine al fresco and savor the ocean breeze.
"It's quite impressive," Harry remarked, his gaze sweeping over the elegant exterior as Sirius led the way to the double glass doors.
"It's been in the Black family for centuries," Sirius remarked proudly, holding the door open for them to enter.
Stepping into the foyer, they were greeted by a spacious sitting room adorned with a plush, dark leather wrap-around couch. Sunlight poured in through the large windows, casting a warm glow over the room. The floor, made of a speckled stone polished to a mirror-like sheen, added to the room's airy ambiance.
With walls painted in a soothing light blue hue, the room exuded an open and inviting atmosphere.
"First things first, let me show you how the windows work," Sirius announced, striding over to one of the expansive arched windows that stretched from floor to ceiling.
Sirius's demonstration of the window's magical capabilities elicited impressed nods from Harry. The simple yet practical additions to the window, such as tinting and resizing, showcased the ingenuity of wizarding design.
"Very useful indeed," Harry remarked, his appreciation evident.
As Sirius began to explain further, Bellatrix interjected with a demand to see the kitchen. Sirius's confusion was apparent as he questioned her recent meal, but Bellatrix's declaration shed light on the situation.
"Yes, but I'm pregnant, and you ate my bacon sandwich," Bellatrix explained, her irritation palpable.
Sirius's expression softened in understanding. "Ah, right. The kitchen hasn't been stocked, so all we have here are the basics."
Harry, ever the calming presence, gently rubbed Bellatrix's back as he reassured her, "We'll have to wait until we get back home."
Reluctantly, Bellatrix acquiesced, her pout evident as they continued their tour of the house. Upstairs, they discovered a series of bedrooms, including ten smaller ones and the master suite, each exuding a sense of comfort and luxury befitting the Black family legacy.
Exploring the ground floor revealed a simplicity that belied the villa's grandeur. Aside from the expansive kitchen, there was a modest library stocked with books on aquatic plants and a few medical tomes focused on treating seaside-related injuries, such as jellyfish stings. A moderately sized dining room completed the ensemble, offering a cozy space for shared meals.
But it was the kitchen that truly stole the show. Spanning a vast expanse, it boasted not one, but two stoves, a large wood oven, and an impressive array of cookware suspended from overhead racks. Every inch of the room was covered in pristine white tile, with a sizable island occupying the center. A small door to the right of the pantry revealed an assortment of wines for cooking, along with racks showcasing higher-end wines for drinking.
However, Bellatrix's disappointment was palpable as she surveyed the contents of the cold box and pantry, finding them disappointingly bare save for a few staples. Sirius's explanation did little to assuage her frustration.
"I was hoping he was lying," Bellatrix lamented as she inspected the empty cold box.
"This place hasn't been used since the summer of seventy-eight, when Cissa and her friends held her hen party here," Sirius explained, his tone tinged with nostalgia.
"I never got a hen party," Bellatrix pouted.
Sirius's cheerful response cut through her melancholy. "You didn't have any friends."
"Alright, let's head home," Harry interjected swiftly, sensing Bellatrix's growing annoyance.
"Right, we can take the portkey straight from here," Sirius agreed, offering them the means of departure.
"Come on, Bella, I'll make you some lunch," Harry offered, gently guiding her towards the portkey.
"Okay," Bellatrix replied, placing her own finger on the portkey.
"Return," Sirius commanded, activating the magical device. As the familiar sensation of being pulled behind the navel enveloped Harry, he couldn't help but notice a sudden sharp intake of breath followed by a resounding thud. Glancing back, he caught sight of Bellatrix delivering a swift kick to Sirius's shin before they disappeared into the swirling vortex of the portkey.
As they reappeared at their starting point, Sirius dropped the portkey with a scowl, his hand instinctively moving to rub his quickly bruising shin.
"How can a sandal hurt that much?" he demanded, his tone a mix of irritation and bemusement.
Bellatrix, unfazed by Sirius's discomfort, explained with smug satisfaction, "There's a Duro Charm on the tip and a modified Shield Charm to protect my toes from getting stepped on."
With a dismissive wave, she skipped off towards the house, leaving Sirius to nurse his injured pride.
"You brought that on yourself. Do you want to stay for lunch?" Harry offered, leading Sirius back towards the house.
"No, I have to pick up Harry. He has an appointment at St. Mungo's to get his dragon pox and scrofungulus inoculations," Sirius replied, his expression shifting to one of responsibility.
"Oh, I never got those until I joined the Grey Cloaks. Good on you," Harry remarked, offering Sirius a hearty slap on the back.
"They didn't have the dragon pox one until a few years ago. I took it at the Auror Academy. Tasted like goblin piss," Sirius said with a shudder, the memory of the unpleasant experience lingering in his mind.
"Got a lot of experience with goblin piss, have you?" Harry quipped, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Oh, bugger off. You're worse than James sometimes," Sirius retorted, shaking his head in mock exasperation.
"Thanks, that means a lot," Harry replied seriously, his tone softening.
"I still miss him, you know. He was like my brother," Sirius admitted, his voice tinged with sadness.
"I might be able to help you out with that when my ring is finished," Harry offered quietly, his words laden with significance.
"What? How?" Sirius demanded, his curiosity piqued.
"The capstone for my ring is the Resurrection Stone. But if you go blabbing that around, I'll find a way to make you regret it," Harry warned sternly.
"Yeah, mate, mum's the word," Sirius assured him hastily.
"Good. I'll let you know when it's ready. If anyone deserves to see them one more time, it's you," Harry said earnestly.
"What about you?" Sirius asked, confusion evident in his voice.
"I made peace with their death a long time ago," Harry replied softly, his gaze distant.
"Alright, I need to get going. Thanks, Harry," Sirius said, pulling him into a bear hug.
After a moment, Sirius released him and with a soft 'pop', he disappeared, leaving Harry to contemplate the weight of their conversation and the bond that still tethered them to the past.
"I still don't understand why you like him," Bellatrix remarked from the doorway of the sitting room, her tone tinged with curiosity.
"He was one of the few adults in my life who gave a damn about me. That night your older self sent him through the veil, he gave his life to protect me," Harry explained, his voice tinged with a mixture of admiration and sadness as he led her towards the kitchen.
"You're not mad at Bella for that, are you?" Bellatrix asked softly, her concern evident in her voice.
"No, you didn't do it," Harry reassured her with a shrug, as he began to gather the ingredients to make spaghetti and meatballs. Despite the weight of their conversation, he harbored no ill will towards Bellatrix, understanding that her older self's actions were beyond her control.
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