CHAPTER: 6 AN UNEXPECTED NIGHT VISIT
"In a small inn near the Westminster district, there was a certain agitation in one of the rooms just under the roof. The rainy day that all Londoners had suffered had given way to a relatively calm, albeit slightly cool, night, giving the opportunity to all the people of passage residing in the said inn to curl up well warm and comfortably in the blankets of the beds made available to them. Midnight had passed a long time ago, but despite the late hour, a lot of noise was still noticeable in the streets, most often including songs of drunkards and high-pitched giggles of women offering their services for a little money. An ordinary job in itself, not to mention the oldest profession in the world they practiced. The room previously named was also the scene of a certain activity, much more weighted than outside, even if the comings and goings of the person in charge in the room prevented the other occupants from sleeping.
"Marie-Louise... Will you soon think about going to bed?" marred Louise-Elisabeth, looking at her friend with an air of annoyance despite the almost darkness of the room.
"I cannot sleep," she said without ceasing to walk through the room. "Every time I close my eyes, I keep thinking about this boy all the time…"
"You will eventually wake Pauline with the noise you cause!"
The Princess of Lamballe agreed to stop her merry-go-round and sit on her bed, her eyes in the wave. Nothing in the room could have distracted her from what was worrying her: The room they had rented for the evening was nothing special: Two beds for her, two beds for Louise-Elisabeth and her daughter, a simple chest of drawers roughly carved, an office just as devoid of any decoration, a table on which rested an oil lamp still lit and two straw chairs on which rested their clothes. Their trunks were lying near the entrance, waiting to be loaded the next day when they take the train bringing them directly to Dover where they will sail a boat bringing them to France, specifically at the port of Brest.
By mutual agreement, the two had agreed a few weeks earlier that it might be time to return to their homeland: the regime of Terror imposed by Robespierre and his henchmen had long since ended, and even though the threat of the cleaver still hovered over their heads, death sentences had become much rarer in recent times. At least that's what they were hoping for. Even their fake pieces of identity had already been created: Few people were likely to recognize it anyway.
Nevertheless, she could not help but apprehend this contact with the population that had brought the French monarchy to the ground. If at least she hadn't had the idea of taking so many clothes for herself and her two companions, then, she could easily have returned home directly by transplanting and thus avoid having to travel the cities and countryside at the risk of being seen. But here, the Apparating was exhausting, especially over long distances, and doing a dozen simultaneously made him run the risk of appearing in the middle of the Channel, or worse: on a fishing boat. This was not the only reason that prevented Marie-Louise from closing her eyes for the night. Her visit today to the orphanage and meeting Harry had deeply upset her more than she ever imagined. His mysterious green eyes and his little air both candid and sad they had touched, and nothing allowed her to chase from her head the memory of this boy she already found 'cute and absolutely adorable.'
"This boy?" surprised her friend with a thoughtful air before understanding who she could talk about. "Oh, you're talking about young Harry, aren't you?"
"Indeed," she admitted distractedly. "This must be the first time that a meeting has disturbed me at this point, although I usually don't meet people with such great magical abilities. To believe that the magic emanating from him wanted our paths to cross, otherwise I would probably never have paid attention to him.
It is true that all the energy released by the little boy she had seen that day troubled her greatly. She had never felt anything like it before, not even during her duel with Dumbledore. The fact that she didn't even feel Harry's potential during this tournament also surprised her: Magic was not an entity independent of an individual's body, and therefore could not act independently of him. But Harry's magic core seemed different, as if he was emitting signals by rejecting a little residue according to his desire to make himself known. From there to think that he had been able to recognize it and attract it to its owner, there was only one step. This possibility had all day made its way into her mind, and according to her, if that was really the case, so the young Harry Potter could actually become one of the best if not the best wizard ever seen since Merlin.
The idea that she had offered him to give him the opportunity to train him herself had seemed to her at first a little rushed, but with hindsight, she felt it was her duty to ensure that her possible student developed his abilities to the maximum. Even his reluctance about the dangers he faced in accompanying her to her home seemed derisory in the end: Her castle was still protected by the best spells in existence, though, and no one for more than a century, except the inhabitants of the small village of Lamballe adjoining it, knew of its existence. A common rumor in the Muggle world even said that it had been destroyed in 1626.
To tell the truth, many of the Lamballais worked in her field, in exchange for which she provided them with equipment and equipment to enable them to live properly as a mill, a press, etc., public ovens, and even some farmland, and all of them appreciated it at its true value. Almost all the inhabitants were indeed wizards, and Lamballe could even be rightly compared to the wizarding village of the English: Pre-Au-Lard. The few Muggles present were also aware of the true nature of the princess and the ¾ of the population and accommodated well. They had even become the servants of this great lady who paid them well in exchange for their service for the maintenance of the castle. The only problem in truth was to explain to the authorities if one day she decided to talk about her again the way she had escaped from the Force Prison and what she had done since then. S'S'inventing a past was nevertheless much easier than having enough courage to want to take under his wing a young wizard asking only that.
"A child is a quite fascinating person," said Louise-Elisabeth, distractedly, fondling tenderly the brown hair of her daughter sleeping next to her. "She is a being so small and fragile that one would like to keep close to herself eternally to protect all his innocence of the world in which he lives, but at the same time an inexhaustible source of curiosity and desire to learn that one can shape as one pleases. Raising a child is a heavy but so rewarding task when you see what it becomes as you grow up, what our patience and our work have accomplished during all these years when we have remained continually with him, to answer his questions when he did not understand something, he said, to see him smile when he marvels at insignificant things, to comfort her when he is sad and even to be stern when he is insolent. Being a mother is a very complicated job, but ultimately so wonderful."
"Why are you telling me all this?" she asked her friend, looking confused.
Louise-Elisabeth contented herself with sketching a smile full of innuendo while displaying a slight mocking pout against her.
"Do you really not understand? Or do you close your eyes to the fait accompli?"
Marie-Louise knew exactly what she was talking about but refused to admit it. Did she really need a child in her life? Was she ready to spend her days in his company and educate him? Would she just be a good mother? So many questions that she did not have the answer to, although she wished from the bottom of her mind that each of her questions had a positive answer. And then, on the other hand, Harry already had a family. Wasn't it wrong to take him into the custody of his real mother who was taking so many risks to protect him? Was it not in a sense of theft or even abduction? Harry had to agree to follow her…
"You've been infatuated with this boy, haven't you?" Louise-Elisabeth asked him, smiling.
"I... May be yes…"
"Come on, I looked at you today when you were chatting with him. I have seen that you are more interested in him than in another. The look you had when he was explaining how he was being treated by his father, the problems he had in that orphanage and the way he occupied his days left little doubt about your feelings about all of this. I may not have your talent for discerning people's thoughts and emotions through magic, she said, but I saw in your eyes that little spark that you usually have when you talk to Pauline or any of my other children. You have a lot of love and tenderness to give, and maybe it's time to think about having a child, you don't believe?"
"I thought about it," she confessed nervously. "Having a child has always been the thing I wanted most in the world, but unfortunately I was unable to, as you know. Perhaps that is why my husband needed so much to go elsewhere, while I was moping alone in our residence or at Versailles knowing that he was openly cheating on me and that it did not seem to bother him. I would lie to you that his death has affected me, and to tell you everything, I am somewhere the first responsible. By dint of going to see these ladies of small virtues, it was necessary to suspect that he would end up catching a venereal disease, and I did absolutely nothing to cure him when potions could have cured him. Worse still, I let him die without reacting, out of simple revenge. I killed a Louise-Elisabeth man, and I 'even though I have been asking heaven for eight years now, I can't help but feel monstrous just by thinking about it. So do you really see me taking care of a little boy when I was able to commit such an act?"
"Your husband has only had what he deserved," she replied a little more severely. "If the Lord in his mercy were to forgive someone's sins, it would be yours and not those of this debauchery. You have accepted without flinching his many misbehavior over the years, never complaining to anyone and forgiving him incessantly for his mistakes. Yes, you can't have children, but did it give him the right to deceive you like that? The many failed attempts you both have had do not necessarily mean that you are the person unable to give life. To my knowledge the next Duke of Penthievre never had a single child, and no one came to him to claim a pension. The problem may have been with him. Now to answer your question, yes I see you taking care of a child. I can easily say this when I see how you are already caring for Pauline, and I even think having a son would be a good thing for you. I have noticed how strongly these years of wandering have reached you. You continued to live like a soul in pain, without a specific goal. You have the opportunity to have one, but the decision is yours."
Her friend made an important point: The wandering life she was currently leading could not continue like this, and by force, her mood and even her health were likely to suffer. The time may have come to return home permanently and find a full-time occupation: the education of a child. But several legal and even financial problems were likely to emerge, especially in relation to the reaction that his friends would have remained in France when discovering a little boy of eight years that she would announce as her own and consequently that of her late husband, as well as the legacy Harry would obtain if the rumor ever spread that the Duke of Penthievre had had a grandson shortly before his death: The deception would cost him dearly, and more than his personal fortune. His late father-in-law was still one of the wealthiest men in Europe, and the death of his son automatically made Harry his heir. Many difficulties were likely to happen in taking Harry over, but strangely, it did not frighten him more than that. She could always agree on the titles of nobility and the fortune of her in-laws with the sister of the Prince of Lamballe with whom she had always been closely connected."
"But how do I explain Harry's sudden appearance in my life? Not to mention that people hearing his first name will immediately assume his father was English, and I would therefore be accused of collaboration with the enemy!
You are dramatizing, my friend! Harry is eight years old, right? He was, therefore, born in 1789. Now, remember the mocking statement made by the Duchess of Polignac about your waistline, which had the court talking a lot that year. You could easily pretend that you were pregnant and hid your child's existence while waiting for things to calm down. As for his first name, nothing prohibits you from modifying it once you return home. After all, you need to register your son in the register of births and the state.
It was necessary to admit that her friend, the Marquise de Tourzel, had an excellent gift for finding very quick solutions to problems. The only one she could do nothing about was Harry's appearance. He had the eyes of the same emerald color as her late husband, but otherwise, he did not look like them at all. The worst was probably for the hair: Neither her husband nor she had such black hair; the deception would be quickly discovered.
"There remains the problem of his appearance," she said thoughtfully. "Perhaps a charm to change his face would be useful, but the problem is that it does not last indefinitely and must be constantly redone. I could possibly make him drink a filter of adoption by the blood, but the transformation is final, and especially that he agrees to bend to it, which I am not sure. If growing up, people realize that we are different, I can't even imagine the scandal it could have on our lives."
"Stop torturing your mind," sighed the Marquise de Tourzel. "You do not need to show it in front of all our friends once back in France! This poor boy would not even know where to give head!"
Seeing that she had nothing more to offer to push back on Harry's adoption, Louise-Elisabeth glanced at her friend to silently ask her what would happen now. But seeing that she had no reaction, she took the lead and asked him the long-awaited question: "So what are we waiting for?" she asked in an almost impatient tone.
"But it is late, and I doubt that the orphanage is still open at this hour, although with such a director, I would not be surprised."
"Aren't you a witch, it seems to me? Don't you have a few spells that allow you to overcome the obstacles that this good woman can put in your way?"
Marie-Louise could not help but blush with shame. She forgot her magical powers! A closed gate or door could not resist her wand, and as for waking a completely senile director, it was only a formality. With a nod of her head, she invited her friend to get up and get dressed quickly at the same time as her. She immediately ran away, not without being careful when getting up from her bed not to wake her daughter. But fortunately, Pauline contented herself with growling slightly while stirring on the bed. To go faster, Marie-Louise used her wand to dress and help Louise-Elisabeth: Lacing a corset took a lot of time, not to mention the many clothes to wear before the dress.
"Do we also put on our wigs?" the marquise asked her, passing her hand distractedly through her short hair.
"Do not worry about this," she replied, quickly applying a product to her equally short brown hair. "Do as I do, and we can go. Be careful to use only a small part of it; otherwise, your hair might lie down to your feet."
Hardly had she given the small vial containing the mysterious product to her friend, when her hair began to grow slightly, falling to her shoulders. Her friend had exactly the same result, and once they each had a suitable haircut, she said, both of them quickly found a thick coat in their trunks to face the harsh climate. It was nevertheless without counting an unforeseen size...
"Mother, I want to come too!"
The two women were surprised to discover that Louise Elisabeth's youngest daughter, the one they both thought was sleeping peacefully in one of the beds, stood on her mattress in a nightgown, hands on hips and a pout on her face. Pauline de Tourzel looked very much like her mother from a physical point of view: the same small piercing eyes, the same thin mouth, the same fine and pointed nose… But in terms of character, she was more like her father. When Mademoiselle wanted something, she persisted firmly in it, and it was very difficult to dissuade her. Perhaps adolescence was also for something; children were sometimes very difficult during this period.
"Since when did you wake up, young lady?" asked her mother with a severe air.
"Since the beginning of your conversation," she said quietly without ceasing to stare intensely at the two women facing her. "I've heard it all, and I'm delighted for you, Aunt Marie, that you're deciding to have your own child! Please allow me to accompany you!"
"No, Pauline! It is already late, and we leave tomorrow morning at the first light of dawn! So if you don't go back to sleep soon, I can assure you that you will copy me several verses of the Bible when we are back in France!"
"But mother! I want to see this boy!" she pleaded sadly. "I get so bored here away from my brothers and sisters! I could not even accompany you today to visit these orphans; you could be lenient and let me meet him in person!"
"Your brothers and sisters, as you say, are already married and have not had enough time to play with you for a long time, so do not lie, young girl. And if I am not mistaken, the few times you are in their company, it always ends in dispute. I also remind you that you will soon follow the same path as them, and I don't think a man will ever want a woman jumping on the mattress of her bed because she doesn't get what she wants!
The sixteen-year-old girl pouted heavily as she lay back on her bed while pulling the blankets up to her face. Amused by her daughter's behavior, Louise-Elisabeth couldn't help but tease her even more by sitting on the free side of the bed. "What a picture you will give this boy when he sees you sulk like a little lady in your bed!" she remarked.
"Hmp."
"I'm sorry to see you take it that way. I, who thought of entrusting you with his riding lessons, think I will assign this task to someone who is more mature."
"Oh no, Mother, let me teach her! He will not find a better teacher than me in all of Europe! Father himself said that I was very good! I could also teach him other things like playing an instrument or even the waltz! And why not teach him sewing!"
"He's a boy, my dear," reminded her, laughing at her mother. "I doubt he's receptive to sewing."
"Oh, I forgot! Well... Why not languages? I doubt he can speak any language other than English!"
"It is a possibility, but we will see this later with his mother if you will. In the meantime, rest, Pauline."
"Good, Mother. But I'm so eager to meet him that I doubt I can close my eyes while you're away!"
Her mother simply smiled at her tenderly before kissing her forehead to wish her a good night. The two women then went to the exit of the room, extinguishing the lamp by the way, thus plunging the room into total darkness. Between the beginning of their discussion and their departure for the orphanage, more than an hour had passed. Perhaps the most difficult thing was to wake up the owner of the inn and ask him to drive them to the orphanage. Suffice to say that he was not at all willing to help them and even invited them to go on foot if it was so important to them.
"We do not wake people at such an hour!" he protested for long minutes. Nevertheless, he was much more pleasant when Marie-Louise handed him a purse containing a few gold coins. Although still grumbling against them, he finally agreed to lead them to the locality by having his personal coach harnessed. The comfort was very rudimentary, but it was not yet time to argue about it. The journey also took some time, especially since some streets were not very reassuring this evening. Many drunkards slept on the ground, and suspicious-looking individuals conversing with each other in certain alleys did not inspire confidence at all. Also, Marie-Louise ordered their coachman to speed up the pace and quickly leave these infamous places. Even though she was a witch, the danger could still be there.
The orphanage was even more sinister by night than by day, even with the dim light of the moon and the rare lighted lanterns that could be seen through some windows of the surrounding dwellings that did not allow to distinguish anything. The two Frenchwomen got off their carriage quickly and without the help of the coachman, who obviously still could not accept having been awakened so late. His grumbling was, moreover, the only source of noise perceptible for meters around. Not one person seemed to want to venture into this neighborhood at night or during the day, which did not reassure them in the least.
"How much longer should I wait for you?" grumbled the man in his beard.
"I have no idea," Marie-Louise apologized flatly. "But the longer you wait, the more money I'll give you."
"I, yeah..."
Without waiting, the two went to the door of the orphanage through the entrance gate, which they were surprised to see always open. But there was not yet time to question this detail, and it was a step more hastily that they arrived at the door. "Misery... it is closed!"
"There is only this knocker to announce our presence, but I doubt that someone hears us. The staff apartments were on the other side of this building. There would eventually be only the director who lives near the refectory who could help us."
"This is the lovely lady I'd like to meet. Wait, I think I found the solution..." The Princess of Lamballe quickly took out her magic wand, which she tapped on the knocker of the door while mumbling discreetly an "Alohomora." The wooden panel opened immediately, and both of them were able to rush quickly into the orphanage."
"Very ingenious," praised his friend. "This situation is terribly stressful, anyway. I don't think I've been so anxious since we escaped from the prison of the Force."
"Me too, but we must admit that all this is insanely exciting! Moving around in a room completely plunged into darkness was no easy feat, but after groping for long seconds in the dark, she said, both of them finally arrived right in front of the reception desk, the one where Ms. Cole used to sit all day. Unobtrusively lighting the end of her magic wand, Marie-Louise found on the counter two oil lamps which she immediately began to light. The light emitted was most reassuring, even if the shadows of the furniture in the room and the windows beyond, through which the darkness of the night was still visible, remained disturbing.
"And now?" Louise-Elisabeth asked.
"Let us bring the desired person to us," she said, pointing to two small bells held together by a small wire, apparently used to call a staff member. They immediately executed themselves and spent long minutes shaking the bells in the void. Nothing happened at the beginning, then the squeaking of a door was heard behind which emerged a Ms. Cole in a dressing gown over a shirt falling to her ankles and a particularly sinister expression on this evening. She was apparently not a woman in a happy mood when she was awakened either. With a trembling hand, she held a small cup in which was a small candle to find her way in the dark and especially to express her way of thinking about late visitors. That she was not surprised to discover the two French in her establishment, and moreover outside the opening hours: Compliance with the rules did not seem to be part of their education.
"YOU?! But what are you doing here! It is more than two in the morning! Get out of this orphanage immediately before I warn the authorities!"
"Come on, lady, calm down! We are not here to harm you and sincerely ask you to excuse us for the inconvenience caused, but if we are here, this is for a reason of the utmost importance!" pleaded Louise-Elisabeth in a courteous tone.
"I don't care, I don't want anything to do with you!" spat the director out with a bad air. "OUTSIDE!"
Tired of the obvious hostility that Ms. Cole had for them, Marie-Louise stepped forward and administered without further ceremony a masterful slap whose noise echoed in the room.
"I do not know what we have been able to do to you so that you hate us so much, madam, but I am beginning to have more than enough of the dismissive tone with which you address us and your contemptuous looks."
The director, still shocked by her gesture, rubbed her cheek where the blow had touched her, without ceasing, however, to look furiously at the woman making her do it.
"I lost my son and my husband during the War of Independence of the United States, this is what happens to me! Both served in the English navy aboard the 'HMS Resolution' and fought valiantly against your fleet during the Battle of Chesapeake Bay! They died that day, dead because of the decision of your king to intervene in favor of the American colonists! If your country had not meddled with what was not watching it, I would still have them with me, and I would not be obliged to hold this place to survive!"
"Except that by blaming people completely unrelated to your problems, you act in a particularly immature way for your age," replied Louise-Elisabeth. "As for your survival, do not make me believe that the pension you are paid for the death of your husband does not allow you to do so."
"I don't care what you think! Now get out of here before I call a few people who will be happy to send you back from where you came from!"
"I have absolutely no intention of leaving. I came here for a very specific reason, and I will not leave without it."
Taking out her magic wand again, she pointed directly at the director in the face. She looked with a disconcerted air at the piece of wood held by her interlocutor, wondering what she thought she might have behind her head, and especially how a piece of wood could prove dangerous for her. As if a simple stick could cause her harm…
"Imperio."
Nothing happened, except a slight wind that caressed the faces of the three women present. One could easily have believed that the spell had not worked if one did not look more closely at Ms. Cole's gaze. She had suddenly become sluggish, her eyes reflecting nothing, and her face expressing no emotion. She was content to stand upright like an I, without moving even her little finger to certify that she was always in control of her body and mind. Even an undead was more expressive than her right now.
"We have already wasted enough time like this, so go immediately to look for Harry and bring him to me as soon as possible," Marie-Louise ordered her, pointing always with his wand.
The director executed immediately, but contrary to what she would have thought, Ms. Cole did not go to the first floor where the children normally slept but to the door behind her leading to the cellar.
"Did she not dare to do that?" mumbled furiously Marie-Louise as Ms. Cole disappeared behind the door.
"Do you think it has anything to do with what happened today in this dormitory?" she asked Louise-Elisabeth, just as alarmed as she was.
The minutes passed in an agonizing silence. The two Frenchwomen apprehended what they would see shortly. Although refusing to admit it, both knew that if the director had headed in that direction, it was because Harry was really there, and the idea that he could sleep in a humid, smelly cellar horrified them. Footsteps were heard after a while, and Ms. Cole made his return to the room, dragging behind her a frightened eight-year-old boy and wondering what the director might want at such an hour. Already the last he saw her, she was in a mad rage against him, she didn't even speak and was content to pull him towards the two Frenchwomen he finally saw. That she was not surprised to see them that evening waiting for them in the entrance hall. Something was going on…
"Marie-Louise? But... What are you doing here?"
"I'll explain later the reason for my coming, Harry. I'm really happy to see you again, by the way!"
Re-targeting her with her magic wand, she freed Ms. Cole from the spell, then dragged Harry into an embrace with which she hoped to convey all her emotions. This boy was going to be her son, whatever the cost, and for the first time in her life, she would have someone to give that kind of affection to. Harry, although loving this feeling of comfort, was nevertheless embarrassed by his gesture: It was only his mother who made him this kind of scene.
"Now you will calmly explain to me what Harry was doing in your cellar," said to Ms. Cole Marie-Louise in a clearly threatening tone while Harry greeted the Marquise de Tourzel.
The director swallowed heavily but supported Marie-Louise's insistent gaze. A look fight took place quickly, each defying the other without even uttering a word in order to gain the upper hand and destabilize his opponent. The other two stood there watching them with astonishment, not knowing what to do. It was the Princess of Lamballe who first ended the battle by closing her eyes, but the mocking pout she displayed meant nothing good for Ms. Cole.
"Needless to give me your reasons, in the end, I don't need them. Legilimency has once again been very useful to me."
"The legili... What?"
"Passing your nerves for a visit that seemed to you missed on a child totally innocent to this is indeed one of the most pitiful things you have shown so far," she said, continuing without stopping smiling. "It's his fault that nothing happened as I wanted it to!" Ms. Cole suddenly got carried away without wondering for a moment how her interlocutor could be aware. "The princess had pity on her fate, and by I do not know what procedure, he managed to tell her despicable things against me! In the early evening, I received a letter informing me of the opening of an investigation against me for ill-treatment and embezzlement! The only person other than me with whom she was able to discuss these so-called mistreatments can only be him!"
"And do you have any evidence to back up your claims?" Louise-Elisabeth inquired as she frowned. Obviously, Ms. Cole had nothing to certify her words, as the other two women noticed with a simple look and the long silence in which the director had plunged. "That's what it seemed to me. And to make matters worse, you had the idea of locking this poor boy in your basement? My God, my God, my God, I pity you. I don't care about the solicitude of two French women! You should end up like all your fellows: at the bottom of a channel!"
"Let's talk about the rivalry between our two nations later, if you will. For now, I would rather deal with you on a much more important matter."
"And what is she?" asked Ms. Cole in the same contemptuous tone, looking at Louise-Elisabeth.
"An adoption."
There, the director could not help but loudly slam, risking waking the rest of the residents. Harry wondered why Marie-Louise came in the middle of the night to adopt a child when she had already seen them earlier in the day. The idea that she was there for him didn't even touch him. "An adoption of? You? Who is the lucky one elected?" she asked him, Miss Cole. "I never imagined that the little time you spent with our orphans allowed you to be infatuated with one of them!"
"It is not an orphan that I would like to adopt but the young boy present among us."
All eyes immediately converged on Harry, who was at least shocked by the last sentence of the Princess of Lamballe. This woman? Adopting him? But he wasn't even here for that! Not that he found Marie-Louise unpleasant; he had even surprised himself by appreciating her. But from there to leave with her for an unknown destination, there was a boulevard. Going away with a woman he knew nothing about seemed completely crazy to him, even if the said woman had already offered to come to her house on certain occasions to perfect her abilities for magic. But even then, he wasn't sure he wanted to go. The impression of being a burden to his father was already great; he also did not want this charming woman to end up thinking the same. But on the other hand, accompanying the Princess of Lamballe would allow him to escape this horrible orphanage where no one showed her the slightest affection. She had been the only one to testify to him, as well as the Marquise de Tourzel, and her intuition told her that these women had not played a role at that time. There emerged from them an impressive aura of sweetness and kindness that he had felt only in the presence of Lily. No, these women were not cruel, and perhaps by accepting Marie-Louise's offer, he could finally taste the happiness he so hoped for.
"You... You want to adopt me?" he asked timidly as if he did not believe it.
"Unless you do not want it," Marie-Louise answered him, smiling.
"You cannot do it!" the director exclaimed furiously, pulling Harry towards her. "His mother gave us money anyway for his stay here and so that he did not get adopted!"
"And I suppose that money was used to give him some comfort and some privileges that other children do not have. Now, from what little I have seen so far, it seems to me that you do not behave more courteously with him than with another. I would love to know what happened to that money. Maybe you used it to get other furniture?"
"These are serious accusations you are making! One more word, and I will leave tomorrow to the first to complain about your words to the competent authorities! We are honest people here, and the money we are given goes directly into work to ensure the safety and comfort of our residents!"
"You are not fooling anyone, madam," replied the Princess of Lamballe in a cold tone. "The furniture in your room that you claim to be the buyer, thanks to your ancestors, are goods that I have already had the opportunity to see for myself before. Before buying furniture, find out about their origin, and especially remove the badges that can be seen carved in wood. I am curious to know how chairs from the little Trianon of the Palace of Versailles could have landed in your apartments?"
The director was at least shocked by this turnaround. Her malfeasance was now being updated, and she inwardly cursed this furniture dealer who had so graciously sold her these chairs for a paltry price. His credulity horrified him.
"We've wasted enough time like that. Imperio!"
For the second time of the evening, Ms. Cole was immediately as docile as a house elf and waited in silence for the next instructions from the one who possessed her mind. "Go to Harry's dormitory and bring his personal belongings with you. Do not forget anything," she ordered him again in a firm tone.
Wisely, the director walked away this time from the upper floor of the orphanage, leaving two women and a toddler alone in the entrance hall. Marie-Louise waited for Ms. Cole to disappear down the stairs to turn her attention to Harry, but as she immediately noticed, Harry suddenly stepped away from her and watched her with undisguised fear. "What is happening to you, Harry?" she asked him in a worried tone, already stretching out her arm to draw him close to her. "You used an Unforgivable spell! My mother always told me that it was the servants of the Dark Lord who used it! It's wrong to use it against someone else!"
Finally understanding what frightened him, his new mother simply smiled to reassure him and then to put herself at his height by leaning slightly. "I'm going to ask you a question, Harry, and you'll have to answer it by giving me an answer that reflects what you really think. That okay?" Harry nodded nervously, apprehending at the same time the question of the woman in front of him.
"If I ever used this spell on a person preparing to throw himself off a cliff to prevent him from committing this act, or on someone enjoying drinking from a glass where an ill-intentioned individual would have placed some kind of poison, is that wrong? The question caught him completely off guard. Seen in this way, the Imperius Curse was not dangerous; quite the contrary. Saving a person's life was not a bad deed, even if the spell itself was considered dangerous.
"N-no, since one saves a life," he replied thoughtfully.
"You see, Harry, there really is no such thing as a spell of white magic or black magic. It is only its use and the reason why a person can use it that makes it bad. We could talk about gray or neutral magic. Let's take another example, will you? The Cruciatus Curse is also an Unforgivable spell, isn't it? But did you know that the jolts it causes on the body can revive the heart of an individual experiencing cardiac arrest? Convulsions are such that they allow the body to revive itself and prevent death due to lack of oxygen and blood in the brain. Is it bad there again?"
"Not at all," he said, seeing where she was coming from.
"Do you now understand? And what about Stupefy and Reducto spells? Both are generally used to protect oneself or to retaliate in the face of an attack, but can the Reducto not disembowel a person? Imagine that in anger, you were using this spell on one of your friends or even on a member of your family. Do you not take the risk of killing this person? Yet it is considered a spell of white magic…"
The gap between white magic and black magic did not exist, as Harry understood thanks to Marie-Louise's explanations. Even the spell of death, though considered the worst of all, could eventually take the life of a person suffering martyrdom and desiring to shorten his suffering. It was also not bad in this situation; on the contrary, they were ultimately doing the dying a favor.
"You are right," he sighed as he approached her again. "I wonder why Professor Dumbledore is telling everyone that these are bad spells when he too must know the different ways you have said to use them."
"Dumbledore has probably persuaded the wizards of this country that they are spells of dark magic to differentiate him from this Lord Voldemort," she said to him, taking the hand Harry held out to her. "But in the end, both eliminate the supporters of the other, no matter how they are used. They both look the same in one sense: everyone uses the possibilities that are available to him."
"So it's true? You really want to adopt me?" he asked again, looking hopefully at his new mother. "Why?"
"I have in mind to make you a great wizard, perhaps even the best of all, but also a renowned politician and military man. Your magical potential is truly immense, and it would be a shame if you wasted it by staying here in this place where you will learn absolutely nothing. I always had good intuition, and it never cheated on me. I'm sure that by training you, I could allow you to reach your full power, and at the same time, I could at leisure bequeath my knowledge and my fortune to a person of whom I will have complete confidence."
"Why don't you just tell him that you appreciate him a lot and that you always wanted to have a child one day, rather than beat around the bush?" asked Louise-Elisabeth with an amused air.
"Well, yes, of course!" she exclaimed, nervously scratching her neck. "My castle is rather vast, and the company of a person other than that of one of my servants would be welcome."
Harry didn't need to hear more than he literally threw himself at her to hug her body. Finally, he could leave this sinister place without regret; finally, he could exploit his magical talents as he pleased without being afraid to suffer the anger of his father or to frighten others, and above all, he finally found a new family. He certainly did not know them, but he would be delighted to learn more. But reality caught up with him as fast as a Quidditch Seeker chasing a Golden Snitch, and the faces of his real mother and Rosie got in his thoughts. What were they going to say when they found out? Will they think he is betraying them, abandoning them? The mere thought that his mother would resent him horrified him, and for a moment, he thought of refusing the proposal of the Princess of Lamballe.
"Could I see my mom?" he asked sadly, raising his eyes to her.
"Why could you not?" she was surprised to see the scowled face of her adopted son. "I'm sure she'd be happy to hear from you!"
"Yes, but... What if she blames me for agreeing to be your adopted son? You think she'd hate me?"
So this is what disturbed the young boy whose custody she hoped. Marie-Louise could not help sighing sadly. She herself would probably have had the same reaction if a person she had only known for a few hours wanted to tear her from all her bearings. For Harry, the orphanage was the place where he was certain to see his mother again one day, and getting her away from here meant he couldn't find her for long. Moreover, at that age, any of our choices made us think about what our parents would think about it. Harry was panicked, and to imagine that leaving with a stranger could disappoint his mother was quite plausible and especially horrible. It was better to reassure him as best as she could.
"No matter what your child can or will do, the choices and decisions he will make in his life and the facts he will accomplish, a mother will always love him. A mother's love for her offspring is unspeakable as it is so great, and nothing and no one can break it by words or deeds. What does your heart tell you, Harry?" she asked him, placing her hand on the chest of her adopted son.
"That she will continue to love me," he said slowly.
"Exactly, and believe me: If I were in her place, I would wish only the best for you. Do you think I'll be worse than this Ms. Cole? Do you think I look like a child's gag?"
"Of course not," he replied sincerely.
"Frankly, it is not me you should be wary of, but Louise-Elisabeth," she said, whispering in her ear. "She doesn't give the impression, but she's actually a wicked witch fattening children in the cellars of her castle before eating them. Her appetite is huge! If I didn't give her a few potions to make her lose her pounds, she would be getting close to the weight of a calf by now!"
"Excuse me!?" exclaimed the concerned, with an outraged air. "What does it take you to say such nonsense!?"
His shocked face had at least the merit of making the other two chuckle. The atmosphere relaxed enormously following the little story of the Princess of Lamballe, and their discussion was much more animated, even if whispers were de rigueur. It was better not to wake up the orphanage.
"I was wondering... Is it... Is it possible that I would talk with my mom when I will be at your house?" asked Harry timidly.
"I don't know, Harry. I see no inconvenience in that, though, but I'm more concerned about how your father would react if he ever found out that your mother is in contact with you and that you're not where he hoped you were going."
"But how will she know I'm not here anymore?"
"Let me think about it. You'll have to be careful that your father and Dumbledore don't know about anything, and since your mother is probably constantly with them, getting in touch with her will not be easy. On the other hand, I am sure that it would please this James Potter to know that he would no longer have any authority over you and that he would thus be rid of the person who was bothering him. But it is better to keep a low profile and not alert them to your change of situation, at least for now. However, you would have to let your mother know in some way so that she is the only one who knows where you are and with whom you live."
Marie-Louise distractedly patted her chin, looking for a solution to this thorny problem. But she did not have long to think because it happened quickly.
"I think I found it. Since your mother is the only one who knows that you have stayed in this orphanage, I am sure she will spend a day there to check that you are doing well. I have in mind to leave a letter here to explain in detail what happened to you and by what means she can communicate with us. Does it suit you?"
"It's perfect. Thanks... mother."
Not used to being called that way, Marie-Louise began to blush slightly, not without tenderly smiling at her now-son to whom she delicately caressed the top of the skull. Her friend, who missed nothing of this touching scene, was happy to see the happiness visible on her face, she who deserved it for so long… "And how should I call you?" Harry suddenly asked her, turning his head towards her. "Louise-Elisabeth? Madame?"
"Well, how about my aunt or Aunt Louise? My children already call your mother that, so I think you have the right to do that too. Besides, I think you'll get along very well with my last daughter, Pauline. She dreams of having a child younger than herself to play with…"
A sudden shock interrupted them in their conversation while Ms. Cole, still under the influence of the spell, dragged behind her the trunk containing Harry's belongings. The noise it caused could have woken anyone in the orphanage, but no one cared. The old lady once downstairs approached them and dragged the trunk to Harry before taking care of you near Marie-Louise, probably waiting for the next instructions.
"I believe that you can now be freed from this spell," declared the Princess of Lamballe, immediately doing what she said. "However, it is now dangerous for us that you realize these few moments of misguidedness. You might as well erase your memory completely. Obliviate!"
The spell, of a pale gray color, struck the director with full force, who remained for a few moments completely amorphous, with an empty look. Then, as suddenly as Marie-Louise had sent this spell, she put an end to it with a magic wand and hastily put her wand in one of her sleeves.
"What then... But... What am I doing here?" she asked, a lost look on her face.
"You were about to give us the papers concerning the adoption of Harry Potter when you suddenly had a moment of confusion," said Louise-Elisabeth. "We thought you were going to pass out again…"
"I... I can't remember anything at all," the director muttered. "An adoption, you say?"
"Yes, and besides, Harry has kindly been looking for his trunk and his things. We were only waiting for your agreement to finalize all this."
"This boy is not to be adopted," she repeated without knowing it. "His mother left him here by paying a certain amount to ensure his well-being."
Marie-Louise did not answer anything and turned her back on her for a few moments, thus hiding from her what she was about to do. A few seconds later, she turned back towards her, a small bag in the palm of her hand inside which rattles could be heard.
"I will give you three times the amount she has given you," she said firmly, already dipping her hand in her bag. "How much did she leave exactly?"
"Th-three thousand £," stammered Ms. Cole, throwing stealthy glances in the direction of the bag.
"Nine thousand, then? That's reasonable."
The first coins quickly fell on the desk counter, and soon a large pile of coins appeared before their eyes. Too busy admiring the gold that was going to belong to him, Ms. Cole did not even notice that it was impossible to get so much money out of such a small bag. She was even very enthusiastic as she looked in the drawers of her office for the administrative papers used for adoptions.
"Please fill out these few documents, and this boy will be entirely yours!" she kindly prayed to him, also handing him an inkwell and a feather.
Only illuminated by the oil lamp placed a few centimeters away, the Princess of Lamballe complied and did what was asked of her. Harry did not leave her side, anxious that all this could only be a beautiful dream and that he risked waking up if he let go of her hand. Her other hand had taken up residence in that of her new aunt who stroked her thumb to reassure him. Events were rushing after all, and all this was going to be too fast for him, she thought. The spirit of an eight-year-old child was indecipherable for a person of forty years past.
"I would like to have another sheet, please, as well as a new pen and an envelope," asked Marie-Louise once the cards were filled. "Also, forward these sheets as soon as possible to the competent authorities in this type of case. The sooner, the better. I do not want the English government to accuse me of kidnapping one of its nationals."
"Of course! I will send them from the first hour in the morning!" joyfully exclaimed Ms. Cole as she searched her things again.
In ten minutes, the letter she left to Lily when she returned to the orphanage to hear from Harry was finished and carefully put in the envelope she closed with a little wax.
"You will give this envelope to Madame Potter when she comes here for her son. Don't give it to anyone else, and make sure it doesn't fall into the wrong hands. If you do what I ask you to do, you will get a nice amount of money in return."
Ms. Cole was really only working for money, as she had finally understood, and seeing the cheerful air that the now ex-Harry director displayed at the evocation of this new money return, there was little doubt that she would follow the recommendations of her generous donor to the letter.
"I will be happy to comply with your recommendations to the letter, madam," the director started counting one by one the pieces placed on the counter that she happily stored in a bag. "I'll put this letter in this boy's file as soon as I'm done with this."
"Well, then, it is time, I believe, for us to leave you," replied Marie-Louise, taking leave of her. "I won't bother you any longer, and I apologize again for waking you up so late."
"Don't worry; I didn't even sleep anyway!"
He was sure that she would not close an eye the entire night. Just the amazed look she had as she examined the mound of coins in front of her said a lot about her condition. The two French hoped for her that she knew a good hiding place to store this money. In view of the offenses she had voluntarily committed, there was little doubt that her place within the institution would soon be in danger of jumping. But that wasn't their business. Discreetly pointing her wand at Harry's trunk, the Princess of Lamballe bewitched it so that it was as light as a feather and therefore easier to carry. Anyway, even if she were levitating her, Ms. Cole would probably not have noticed it.
"Are you ready to go, Harry?" she asked him, taking with one hand one of the handles of the trunk.
"I believe I have never been so ready as tonight, Mother," he replied, taking her other hand.
With his second hand holding that of his new aunt, the new little family came out of a light step from the orphanage, each of whom hoped it would be the last time he would see him. For the first time in a long time, Harry felt very happy, perhaps even more so than when he had spent his wonderful vacation in the company of his mother and little sister. The future seemed to smile at last, and he wasn't going to complain.
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