CHAPTER 38: FORTUITOUS ENCOUNTER ON THE QUAYS PART -2
His godfather didn't seem bothered by the fact that he was addressing the painful subject of the loss of his parents when he was in the fourth year at Hogwarts. On the contrary, a smile crept onto his lips as he thought about the answer he was about to give, "I came for you, you see," he admitted, maintaining his smile at the sight of his godson's embarrassed face. "There was a time when I still considered your whole family as the perfect example of the one I would have liked to have, and I took great pleasure in visiting you. Your family meant the world to me, and just being your godfather made you a full-fledged being deeply embedded in me. Every gesture, every action, perhaps even every breath of air could have an impact on the fragile thread that bound us, a relationship that could break at any moment with the slightest misstep. So yes, I came to see you as often as possible, and especially you, because it reminded me that no matter where I was, there was a small English manor with a little family waiting for me, giving me a justified reason to stay alive and well... At least, if we exclude James."
Without waiting for a response or reaction from his godson, Remus resumed his walk, urging Harry to do the same by putting an arm around his shoulders. Silence made its first appearance in their conversation, but it was extremely short-lived because Remus had not finished addressing his protégé's feelings, "You're scared, aren't you?" he said in a tone that clearly indicated he already knew the answer. "Your academy taught you many things, but fear is not learned: It's felt, experienced in the present moment. You may be able to control your emotions through Occlumency and bury them deep inside you, but you can't completely annihilate them."
"I know," Harry replied, lowering his head, looking defeated. "But I'm not afraid for myself. I know I'm well-prepared to face any situation and well-instructed by my teachers and Mr. Pajol to act in the best way. I'm just afraid of dying there and leaving behind my mother, Mama, Rosie, and Daphne in the grip of immense sorrows that I won't be able to ease. I must seem confused to you, but it's not death that frightens me but the repercussions it could have on my family if I were to disappear."
"So, you confirm what I said earlier, dear godson: Even facing death, you think above all about others before worrying about what might happen to you. A very chivalrous attitude, I must say... You do honor to the long line from which your mother and you come."
Harry suppressed the urge to blush at his godfather's praise, but the compliment still pleased him. However, truly honoring them would be in proving himself on the military campaign field, and that was an entirely different matter.
"I couldn't say the same at your age, for my part," Remus continued thoughtfully. "I only started carrying out missions for Dumbledore more than a year after my final exam at Hogwarts, and they were trivial tasks at first. I truly put my life on the line only a while later, around the time your mother was pregnant with you. It was also at that moment that Lily and James honored me and gave me the immense pleasure of being your godfather. You can't imagine the joy that filled me at that time! I never knew why they chose me over Sirius, even though James had always been closer to him than to me or Peter. But I suppose your mother thought it wise to have a more responsible man as the godfather of her first child."
Responsibility and Sirius indeed did not go together in Harry's eyes, and he thanked his mother for sparing him the displeasure of having the debauched Sirius as a godfather.
"It was only at that moment that I began to restrain the bursts of bravery that sometimes led me into dangerous situations, especially because, for the first time in my life, I had someone counting on me to be present in their life and waiting for me. The fear of dying accompanied me at all times, but until then, I mostly feared dying alone in an isolated place without anyone ever finding my body. And then, just like you, I started to fear not seeing you again, not seeing your mother, or even Rosie. This period strangely coincided with Dumbledore asking me to make contact with werewolf tribes around the world... It's funny sometimes how chance can play with us like that."
"But you still came back alive from each of your journeys," Harry reminded him.
"Yeah, but you should never overlook the risk factor in any of our ventures and stay vigilant at all times. Just remember that, as well as remembering that what you leave behind will eagerly await your return, and that's where you should draw the strength to exceed yourself and reunite with those you love."
Harry nodded in understanding, but he couldn't do more as a certain commotion at the other end of the platform where they were walking interrupted their conversation. An increasingly large crowd seemed to be forming a circle around an individual for a reason that escaped them, but the laughter and excited shouts of onlookers suggested that this spectacle must be particularly amusing. One voice, particularly rude and loud, was inciting emotions by reprimanding another person while involving the numerous spectators present.
"I wonder what's going on," Harry commented, looking curiously at the group in front of them.
"Probably another domestic dispute," Remus casually suggested as he approached. "Or a fight between drunks... It's not uncommon around here."
Their journey was not long, but making their way through the crowd to find out the reason for all the commotion was much more difficult for them. Even the uniform Harry was wearing didn't dissuade the gathering Toulonnais from letting him through, and it was only through many shoulder bumps and contortions that Harry and Remus could set their eyes on the spectacle before them. As announced, the voice from earlier belonged to a disheveled man with long hair sticking to his face and an unkempt beard. He was addressing the crowd with his shouts, occasionally throwing jabs at a second person kneeling next to him, who, in turn, persisted in remaining silent and perfectly still. It was impossible to describe her, as she wore a very long cape with a hood pulled down over her face to completely conceal it. However, it seemed obvious at first glance that this person was of a modest height, suggesting she was either a teenager or a person of small stature. The shoes she wore, fortunately not hidden by the cape, indicated that she was a young girl, probably around Harry's age or slightly younger, but nothing else could give a clue to her identity. The man didn't seem bothered by it as if he were used to encountering her frequently, but his behavior towards her mostly reflected the amusement he derived from turning his victim into a spectacle for the crowd.
"So, little slut, out and about again, huh?" he joyfully bellowed, trying to remove her hood. "Come on, don't act all high and mighty! Everyone would love to see your pretty face! Don't keep your audience waiting; they'd also like the chance to see a monster at least once in their lives!"
The exclamations intensified, and far from being offended by the man's behavior towards the girl he was humiliating, the crowd sought, on the contrary, to find the best vantage point to catch a glimpse of her hidden face.
"Ladies and gentlemen, for the symbolic sum of only two francs, I'll rip off her cape, and you can leisurely admire the result of the love affair between a sow and a monkey!" the man continued, scanning the onlookers. "For ten, I'll throw her into the harbor to see if this beast can swim!"
To add insult to injury, he kicked his victim in the stomach as he passed, causing her to roll in pain on the pavement. Some people suddenly appeared less enthusiastic about the fool's ideas, but to Harry's astonishment, others were already rummaging in their pockets to find the requested coins. Furious, he extricated himself from the circle of onlookers and advanced toward the man, his left hand already resting on the hilt of his sabre.
"Hey there!" he exclaimed as he approached. "What's this about? What did this poor girl do to deserve such mistreatment!?"
The man leaning over her slowly turned his head toward Harry, a mocking smile on his lips. Obviously, he seemed prepared to reply harshly, but upon seeing Harry's uniform, his smirk soon transformed into a grimace he struggled to conceal. His joviality disappeared immediately, and he addressed Harry with a much more amiable tone:
"What has she done to us?" he repeated, turning his head back to her. "The mere fact that this monster breathes the same air as me is enough for her to receive the correction she deserves! Maybe after this, she'll think twice before showing her ugly face outside and disgust us all!"
To Harry's dismay, a few approving murmurs erupted here and there among the still-gathering crowd. Not a single person reproached him for his actions when a few seconds later, the scoundrel had the audacity to spit on the hood of the unfortunate girl still on the ground, a string of saliva dripping from his lip. Harry didn't see it that way, and after removing his glove, he slapped the man's cheek forcefully, leaving a reddish mark on his skin.
"Rather than assaulting young girls for something as trivial as an unattractive face, face me then," he challenged, as silence suddenly fell over the pressing crowd. "Will you have the audacity to attack a cavalry sergeant in the service of the emperor, or will you content yourself with fleeing like the coward you are?"
"You shouldn't have done that, kid, soldier or not..." the man murmured as he stood up to his full height, fists clenched. "I'm going to turn you into mush to the point where you'll never ride again."
And without further ado, the man tried to strike him directly in the face. His blow was swift, and an ordinary person would probably never have been able to evade it, but Harry had no trouble doing so. His significantly heightened sensory abilities, gained through training with his mother and his director, now allowed him to feel and anticipate every movement of his opponents as they sliced through the air with their fists or any other part of their bodies. Thus, Harry could easily discern the target of the attack, skillfully parrying it while anticipating the man's next move.
Concentrating his magic in his fist, he then lunged at the man to deliver a punch to his head. Now perfectly in control of his abilities, he waited for the magic covering his hand to make contact with his opponent's skin before detonating it to make his blow much more powerful. The effect was immediate, and where the poor man should have simply collapsed to the ground while holding his cheek, Harry spared no mercy and sent him rolling several meters without appearing particularly exhausted by his action. His opponent didn't even have time to finish his course before another man, likely one of his friends, threw himself at Harry to try to strike him from behind. Unfortunately for him, Harry's magical abilities granted him heightened sensory perception, allowing him to sense the commotion behind him. Concentrating his magic in his hands once again, he not only stopped the other man's movement by grabbing his wrist but also managed to punch him with his other hand, sending him crashing a few meters away as well.
A third ruffian, armed with a small dagger, then rushed towards him brandishing his weapon. Harry saw him coming well in advance, and with prodigious speed, he drew his sabre, which he used to stop the bandit's motion. The two blades clashed with a dull sound, but Harry's blade, infused with a small amount of his magic, was now powerful enough to shatter the other. The broken piece of the blade hadn't even hit the ground yet, and Harry's sabre was already pointed at the man's throat, ready to slice it at the slightest movement. The entire action had ultimately only lasted a few seconds, but a heavy silence had now settled around Harry: the once noisy and mocking crowd now stared with wide eyes at the young sergeant before them, both impressed and intimidated by the extraordinary abilities of this boy who was smaller and weaker than the three men he had just defeated.
"Attacking a non-commissioned officer would earn you prison time, sir, especially when you're trying to take his life," Harry affirmed as he kept his last opponent in check. "I don't think that's what you'd want, right?"
"You provoked me..." the first man rightly reminded him, struggling to get up.
"I never thought you were stupid enough to respond to my provocation," he replied with a mocking smile. "I thought logic would have reminded you of that, but it seems you're devoid of the slightest shred of reflection."
Many laughs erupted, but Harry easily restored silence by glaring at those involved.
"As certain as this man lacks common sense, all of you seem to suffer from another equally condemnable disease: indifference. What! Do you find it amusing to see a man brutalize a poor girl for no apparent reason!? Do you think it's fair to humiliate someone for a physical problem? Why do you laugh so much at the misfortune of others? Do you think it can never happen to you? Do not do to others what you would not want done to you, and instead of mocking her, refer to the wise words of Christ: You must love your neighbor as yourself! Did Jesus mock the poor leper asking for help and relief or the blind beggar on the road to Jericho? No! He came to their aid, and for your salvation as well as that of your loved ones, you must in all circumstances follow the precepts of this holy man!"
Her speech at least had the effect of wiping away the few smiles he could see among the onlookers, and as religious as French society was at that time, many of them realized that Harry was, in truth, right about their reprehensible behavior. None of them, in any case, raised their voices to contradict him; anyway, Harry wasn't there to proselytize religious beliefs. A glance in the direction of his godfather confirmed that he had behaved appropriately in this situation, and that a noble and chivalrous soul could have its merits if it followed the right path indicated by religion.
The crowd began to disperse, and with the joy fading, animated conversations became scarce. The three men, however, lingered a few seconds longer than the others, giving them time to get up and cast angry glares at the young man who had put all three of them on the ground before disappearing without a word. Harry, on the other hand, waited for the curious onlookers to move away before refocusing his attention on the young girl he had just saved. Surprisingly, she hadn't made any move to leave or even show interest in the one who had protected her from the brute humiliating her in front of all these people. In a friendly gesture, Harry reached out his hand to help her up, but to his surprise, the young girl's reaction was not at all what he expected:
"Leave me alone, monster!" she yelled, pushing his hand away.
Taken aback by this jab, Harry stepped back a few paces, watching the young girl rise on her own. While he didn't necessarily expect gratitude, he was disappointed to see that she had no appreciation for the help he had provided. His incredulity quickly turned into disapproval:
"The least you could do is be polite to me, miss," he said, looking at her with a vexed expression. "I could have let you fend for yourself and face that mocking crowd without lifting a finger, but as an honest man, I couldn't let this go unpunished."
"I don't care at all," she replied as Harry noticed she spoke with a strong English accent. "I didn't ask for your help!"
The young girl stood up completely, then after one last look at Harry, she headed in the opposite direction to disappear into one of the city's alleys. However, her path came to an abrupt halt when Harry deliberately stuck the soles of his shoes to the cobblestones of the road. As she tried in vain to free herself from this problem, he calmly walked up to her, satisfied with what he had just done.
"Let me go!" she ordered, knowing full well he was the culprit.
"Not until you tell me why you insinuate that I am a monster," he replied calmly, circling around her. "I'm not used to being insulted in this way, and those unfortunate enough to have had the audacity to do so can testify that it's better to have a good reason not to suffer the humiliation of a duel against me."
"Because you would be ready to face me?" the young girl mocked, chuckling. "You just saved me, and now you want to humiliate me: Where is the logic in your words and actions?"
"There is none, just as I don't know where yours is when you insult the one extending a hand to you."
This statement immediately struck a chord with her, and her chuckling ceased instantly. For a few seconds, she maintained perfect silence, not even attempting to free herself from Harry's spell. Then, just as Harry thought she was now stubbornly staying silent in the hope that he might leave her alone, she finally spoke again in a tone that was very cold and dry:
"I know what you are, and I'm not the biggest fool," she said, turning her face towards him. "What you did earlier is not within the abilities of a normal human being, even less so in a young man like you. It's impossible to parry a weapon without even looking at it and without analyzing its angle of attack when you're facing away!"
"Gabriel is an experienced soldier," Remus countered as he also approached. "He has been learning precisely how to parry such attacks for five years now, not to mention the training he undergoes at his military academy."
"Let me guess..." she suddenly said, bringing her hand to her face to hold her chin. "3rd Cuirassier Regiment? 7th Line Infantry Regiment? 8th Dragoon Regiment?"
Her gaze, though hidden by her hood, continued to scrutinize him from head to toe like a particularly interesting piece of art to analyze. Harry, on the other hand, wasn't feeling too confident because the three army units she just mentioned were all regiments composed solely of wizards. Was this girl one of them?
"I know," she suddenly said, snapping him out of his reverie. "4th Hussar Regiment, right? I should have relied on the color of your uniform earlier: Such a display of red on your plume shouldn't surprise me anymore."
"You're one too," Harry argued, losing any desire to sugarcoat the situation. "Only a you-know-what would be so well-informed about the status of students and soldiers in those academies."
"No, I'm not!" she retorted, raising her voice. "I hate your world and everything it represents!"
"I suggest we continue this conversation in a quieter place if you don't mind," Remus suggested.
"And what makes you think I'll follow you wherever you please?" the girl replied in a tone just as discourteous as before.
"Because I'm convinced that my godson would be ready to follow you anywhere, making your walk as difficult as possible until you've answered his questions," he said, turning his head towards Harry, who confirmed his words with a wink.
"And what if I start screaming?" the girl attempted with an uncertain voice.
"A simple muting spell, and no matter how loudly you scream, all you'll achieve is making yourself look like a madwoman in the eyes of the people in this town," Harry replied, smiling mischievously.
The girl was immediately silenced, and Harry could easily sense beneath her cloak a visceral anger directed at him. For a few seconds, she remained perfectly silent, fists clenched at her sides, as she weighed the pros and cons of the situation she found herself in. Then, realizing she had nothing to gain by opposing him, she let out a long sigh of resignation as all the built-up pressure seemed to dissipate instantly.
"Fine," she sighed wearily. "I'll answer any questions you want to ask, but then I never want to have anything to do with you again. Is that clear!?"
"I didn't expect anything more," Harry assured her with a triumphant smirk. "Would you like to have a good meal? My godfather and I were just about to have dinner at a charming little restaurant that apparently offers the best broth in the region!"
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