I do not own Harry Potter, the Wizarding World, or any canon characters.

Hello everyone, surprise Sunday update! Hope all are doing well. I'm going to ramble for a bit so thank you for your time, or skip as needed/desired.

For people who have been following me for a bit now, I typically take a week off in March to go out of town. I usually do extra updates the week prior to the trip to make up for the dearth of updates the following. This year, I am not going on my trip for various reasons. I also decided today to do some extra updates this week and might update every day actually. That'll mean a double posting of Side Dishes, Champion of Fire, some Reddit Rambles, and an Extended Family. I actually haven't been able to do much writing at all recently, work and life have been very busy, but I'm okay with dipping into my banks to do this.

I hope this brings a little extra joy and peace to all of you. You deserve it.

I wanted to briefly talk about this coming course too. I had just finished my big 50th Course, the rematch between Harry and Celine, and was very happy with it. It was a very long chapter, but it felt good. It felt like a proper milestone chapter. Then a bit later, after doing the next few, I got the idea for this chapter and it gnawed at me until I wrote it. I wanted to save it for another milestone number, but it sat in my head and I decided to just write and keep it in the order I wrote it.

I am not sure how people will like this chapter to be honest. It touches on something that is deeply inherent to the fic and the setting, and I imagine some people will not entirely like it for many reasons. That said, I think it is like some of my big chapters in the story that encapsulates what I want the tone and the feeling of the story and the setting. It has to feeling where it resonates with the characters in it, for the most part, and shows something I envision happening in a plausible way.

I hope you enjoy.

As always, thank you for being with me. I write for all of you. I recently have been going through some things and your kind words and attention have carried me through. I hope that I am helping you as much as you are helping me. We're together in this journey of life and I am glad for the opportunity to share the experience with you.

Thank you for being a part of my fanfiction family.

All my best to all of you.

-0-0-0-

Side Dishes

55th Course – Recognition

Takes place during Harry's stagiaire in Paris, after leaving Japan and before returning to Britain to start Hedwig's Hearth.

"Harry? Is that you?"

Harry looked up, responding to his name and not the voice. He blinked slightly, looking at the somewhat older woman that stood before him for a moment before he finally placed her. "Mrs. Mason?" he asked, sounding a little uncertain.

She smiled broadly. "So sweet of you to remember! And it is you! I was just telling my husband that the food tasted incredible and yet oddly familiar and he agreed with me!" She looked at him with admiring eyes. "Look at you! You're a chef in Paris now!"

Harry smiled at that, never having imagined he would ever run into Mrs. Mason again of all people, and certainly not in Paris. He had been in Paris for a month now, working for Gabriel and while quite tired from working for the master chef and his restaurant and various plans and activities, he was learning at an incredible pace and honing his skills even more. It really was a great opportunity to learn from the man in a professional setting and not just from one-on-one teaching and Harry was learning about how to run a professional restaurant from him as well.

Gabriel also did catering work and public and private events if he liked the individual or the cause, or the amount of money he was being paid. The current event was a private party that he had been asked to cater for and he had agreed. He and the crew he selected had done the majority of the prep work at his restaurant and brought the things over to finish at the site. The Robuchon name was so valued, he also frequently did Muggle events as well and would adjust his cooking and ingredients accordingly.

Harry's smile turned a little wry when he remembered the other thing that had happened during his initial meeting with the Masons. Dobby had sabotaged his cake and tried to get him in trouble to prevent his return to Hogwarts. While he meant well, the execution was lacking and had caused Harry a fair bit of trouble. The house elf was happily working at Hogwarts now, but the other house elves kept a close eye on him whenever he was near Harry, especially Inky. They had not liked how Dobby had tried to 'help' before and still held him accountable for it.

"I'm working for Chef Robuchon," Harry said proudly. "Learning a lot from him."

"How wonderful!" Mrs. Mason exclaimed. "They must be so proud of you! Speaking of, Vernon! Over here!"

"Oh, no, uh, wait-" Harry said, his face paling and his good humor draining out of him. He stared silently when Vernon appeared and it was clear that the man was not expecting to see Harry either. He took one look at Harry and his expression soured and he glared at Harry, skin turning purple.

The man had aged since last they met, and not in a pleasant way. He still looked vaguely out of shape, but was thinner. His skin waxier and older, his hair thinner as well. There was something underneath the irritation and anger, something that made Harry pause.

"You!" he bellowed, causing everyone to stop and turn to stare at the coming scene. "What are you doing here?!"

"Why, he's cooking, obviously," Mrs. Mason said, looking at Vernon with shock. "Can't you see? You didn't know?"

"No word from you for years and you coincidentally appear here?!" Vernon hissed. "How dare you!"

"What is the meaning of this?" Gabriel appeared at Harry's shoulder and he towered over Vernon, making the other man's jaw snap shut due to Gabriel's severe look and angry countenance. "Who are you and why are you harassing one of mine?" he asked, looking down at Vernon.

"This has nothing to do with you," Vernon said angrily.

"Incorrect, this has everything to do with me," Gabriel replied coldly. "Chef Potter is my employee, my protégé. I am the Head Chef and responsible for the catering of this event. I see you harassing one of mine, therefore, it involved my personal attention. Who are you to bother him so?"

Vernon gaped like a fish, looking around for support and finding none. Mrs. Mason was watching with wide eyes and the others there were looking on with embarrassment or displeasure at Vernon's actions. He opened his mouth but Gabriel cut him off.

"No, I care not. I think I am done with this." He turned. "Elodie! Find Monsieur Boucher! We are leaving! Take everything that belongs to us, I will not be insulted like this!"

"Chef, it's fine, really," Harry said hurriedly, interrupting him. "I can head to the back and swap out with someone."

Gabriel looked at Harry. "I will not allow my people to be so insulted. Insulting them insults ME, and I suffer no insults from little men of no importance."

Harry rubbed his neck. "I don't want your reputation being harmed because of me either, Chef. It's fine, really."

Gabriel looked at him closely. "Who is he to you? Why is he bothering you?"

Harry hesitated. "He is married to my aunt," he said at last.

The silence was thick and heavy.

"Chef Robuchon? Is there a problem?" a man asked, running up. He looked at the chef frantically while looking around wildly, trying to find the problem.

"It appears not," Gabriel said slowly. "Harry, go to the back, swap out with Theresa and Shawn. We will need two to replace you out here." He turned and spitted Vernon with burning eyes. "I better not hear anything from your lips for the rest of the evening or else I will leave and you and the others here can subside on scraps. Do I make myself clear?"

Vernon could only nod, horrified.

"Apologize," Gabriel commanded.

Harry shook his head. "No Sir, it's fine." He turned and left the gobsmacked watchers. "It wouldn't be worth anything."

-0-

The evening continued with Harry in the prep kitchen. He worked industriously, purposely not explaining anything to the rest of the crew there. They in turn did not pry, having worked with Harry and liked him. Food went out in impeccable timing and presentation and taste and they continued to do what they did best.

Eventually the night was slowing down, the party drawing to a close. Harry was alone, cleaning things by hand since there were a chance that Muggles could walk into the kitchen. He was lost in thought and almost banged his head against a rack when a voice startled him.

"Are you okay?" Elodie asked, concerned.

"I'm fine, just jumpy," Harry said sheepishly. "Does Chef need me?"

Elodie frowned. "No, he does not." Her lip curled. "Someone wishes to speak with you. It is not that ugly man, but someone that looks like him. He claims to be your cousin."

Harry snorted and turned back to the sink. "Can't be him. He never claimed to be related to me before."

Elodie looked at him sadly. "He said you would say something like that."

"Oh." Harry looked down at the sudsy water and looked back at her. "What does he want?"

"He will not say, only that he must speak to you. I can drive him away should you wish. I would happily do that in fact, as would any from the restaurant."

He hesitated for a moment. "No, I'll speak with him," he said and was unsure why he said that.

"Very well." Elodie left and soon returned with Dudley behind her. He had grown in height since they last saw each other, and though he was still a large young man, his expanse had evened out. He looked more fit, less bloated and massive. He also looked intensely embarrassed and wary, not quite meeting eyes with Harry.

"I will be waiting just outside, should you need anything," Elodie said to Harry, glaring up at Dudley without an ounce of shame or kindness, completely unafraid of him despite the differences in size and stature.

"Probably won't be necessary," Harry said, making Dudley wince. He smiled at Elodie who left, and then his smile faded. He looked at Dudley soberly. "Hey Big D."

Dudley winced. "Hey Harry," he said awkwardly.

The silence between them was even more awkward. It was palpable, able to be tasted and felt.

"You look good," Harry said, half meaning it and half wanting to break the silence.

"Thanks. Took up boxing. And nutrition in general. Turns out I was…really unhealthy," Dudley said. He looked slightly better at Harry's chuckle. "You look good too. Like really. Can't believe you're cooking in Paris and working with someone famous."

"Neither can I some days," Harry said with a small smile.

"I'm sorry," Dudley said all of a sudden, the words spilling from his lips. He flushed at Harry's look. "For everything. For all the times I bullied you, all the times I hurt you. For letting my parents…make me think that it was fine making you our personal servant and all that. I'm really sorry."

Harry stared at his cousin for a long moment. Those were words he had wanted to hear for so long. That was a confession that he had given up ever hearing. Just the idea of any of the Dursleys showing remorse and contrition for their actions was almost ludicrous to him. And yet, here it was. It actually happened.

He thought he would be ecstatic at hearing that, joyous even. He thought he would be vindicated by it. Set free due to it.

Curiously, he just felt a hollow ache in his chest.

"Thank you," Harry said and he saw Dudley relax, even smile. "So what do you want?"

The smile became a rictus of one. "What?" Dudley asked dumbly.

Harry sighed. "Dudley, I have gotten to know some really smart people. People who are masters at being sneaky and crafty, people who see wheels within wheels and make plans for plans. They've taught me a lot and I've learned a lot. So, why did you apologize and what do you want?"

Dudley dithered for a moment. "I meant the apology," he said sulkily. "Really, I did. I learned later what we did was wrong and I wanted to apologize."

Harry looked at him for a long moment. "Thank you," he said.

"But you're not wrong," Dudley admitted, face bright red. "I don't have any right to ask you this, but I want to ask a favor."

Harry snorted and the sound was like a dagger to Dudley's stomach. "Of course. What on earth makes you think I'd do a favor for you?"

"I don't know, but I was hoping you might consider it or at least help me try to figure something out," Dudley whispered. "And I'll pay you whatever you want. No matter how much, I'll figure it out. I swear it."

Harry looked back at the young man and was struck just how earnest he looked and sounded. How desperate he was. "What is it?" he asked, unable to help himself.

"It's Mum," Dudley said. His face twisted, showing worry carved deep into his face. "She hasn't been well for years."

"What's wrong with her?" Harry asked, feeling an odd feeling in his stomach and chest, unable to keep from asking.

"We don't know!" Dudley said loudly with pure fear and frustration. "For years now, she hasn't been able to eat anything. Everything she eats, she says there's no taste or it tastes bad. Food makes her sick and she doesn't have an appetite. She's lost weight and has to drink a lot of nutrient things and stuff to stay healthy. We've seen so many doctors and specialists and no one knows why she's like this."

Dudley looked at Harry, hands twisting. "But tonight, she actually ate food! Like ate it and didn't get sick! She was eating everything and she looked and sounded healthy and happy and it was amazing! She was actually hungry and she ate and she got full!"

Harry said nothing.

"I went to ask who made the food and to see about something, then found out you were here and that Dad was…a prick to you," Dudley said shamefully. "So I begged them to let me speak to you to apologize and hopefully you can help me with Mum."

"What makes you think I can help her?" Harry asked softly.

"Because you helped cook everything, right?" Dudley asked.

Harry nodded.

"And well, I've been thinking, and the last thing I could remember her eating was the beef stew from five years ago," Dudley muttered. "When you left."

Harry gripped the edge of the sink.

"Please? Harry?" Dudley whispered.

"Do you remember what she said to me?" Harry asked, his voice shaking slightly. "Do you know what she did?"

"I do," Dudley said, looking down at the ground.

"And you'd still come and ask me to help?"

"I had to," Dudley said, shrugging helplessly. "She's my Mum. I'd do anything for her." He got down on his knees. "Harry, please. Even if it's just one time, if it helps her a little, I'll do anything. Pay anything."

Harry stared at him. Even though Harry had grown in height since the last time they met, even though Harry had broad shoulders and a decent physique, he was still dwarfed by Dudley. Even the other man on his knees was still equal in height to Harry. But Harry had never seen Dudley like that before.

Diminished.

"Get up," Harry said, looking away again. He closed his eyes. "I don't know what I can do, but I'll think about it."

"Thank you!" Dudley practically shouted. He made to lunge forward but stopped when Harry looked at him warily and he caught Elodie watching through the window, her eyes boring holes into him.

"Where are you staying?" Harry asked, "and for how long?"

"Britannique Hotel, for a few more days," Dudley said.

Harry nodded. "If I decide to do anything, I'll send you a message."

"Thank you, Harry," Dudley said. He turned to leave. He stopped and looked back at his cousin. "Your cooking has gotten really good."

"Thank you," Harry said quietly.

"'Course, it always was good," Dudley said shyly before leaving.

Harry said nothing and stared down at the sink of water and soap for a very long time.

-0-

It was very late when Harry returned home to the Flamel estate. It was never a question where he would be staying during his time in France and it was very comforting to stay there. Again he marveled being somewhere where people wanted him and liked him, something that still came from his upbringing which through the latest incident into greater contemplation.

Nicolas and Perenelle were not at the estate currently, off on a trip for their businesses and interests. The Flamel house elves came and went, also busy but there was usually one or more there no matter the time. Blinky was currently patrolling the forest surrounding the estate but always came back to sleep with Harry eventually. Hedwig was off on a flight to Britain, wanting the exercise, and would be back soon.

For the moment he was alone in his room. He kept replaying the conversation he had with Dudley in his mind, the confrontation with Vernon. After some silent thought, Harry sat up a little and crossed his legs before him. He clasped his hands together and closed his eyes. Since leaving Britain and going to New York, Japan, and now Paris, he got into the habit of letting his thoughts roll over a certain problem. He imagined his problem to be something on a table and he simply thought at it. His thoughts would then echo with the sounds of his friends and family and it helped him work through the problem.

"They want you to do what?! They had the gall to ask you for that?! How dare they! No! Refuse them! Then reveal to all what they want you to do and how they mocked you and used you for the very thing before! Ruin their reputations and their future!"

"Yeah what she said! Screw them! Not even the greatest Seer in history could have seen the audacity of that dumb fat bitch!"

"There is a poetic justice in that being her current problem. Delicious honestly. And no, I was not making a pun."

"They really asked that? Seriously?! Are they being completely idiotic and oblivious?!"

"You are extraordinarily kind, but there are natural limits to it. I am very disappointed in them."

"You should do it but only after we get a crack at them! Seriously, just a few minutes with my club."

"I would bankrupt them for even asking. What cheek!"

"Oh Harry, I'm so sorry. What do you want to do?"

"That's the problem," Harry said softly, "I don't know what I want to do."

He laid there on his bed for some time before he smiled a little at the sound that broke the silence. It was a soft sound and to him, rather soothing and comforting. The door to his room opened and Blinky slithered in. Ever since Harry had stayed at the estate for his work, she had practiced shifting her form and was able to easily maintain her very large size she normally kept and then shrinking down to essentially the size of a large anaconda so she could sleep with Harry and spend time with him indoors. The only drawback was that the rapid changes made her more hungry but that was easily fixed.

She climbed onto the bed and looked down at him. "Are you well?" she hissed, looking concerned.

"I'm fine," he said, grinning at her snort. "Just thinking."

"A necessary problem," she nodded. She slithered and coiled around him, resting her head on his shoulder and sighed happily when he petted her.

One might normally be very concerned when having a large and dangerous snake wrapped around them, but Harry felt nothing but comfort and safety there. As he laid there, he made up his mind and soon joined the basilisk in slumber.

-0-

Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose. "You are far too kind."

"I've been told that before," Harry said sheepishly.

It was the next day and Harry, committed to his decision, had gotten to Gabriel's restaurant, La Cuisine, early to do his work ahead of time. He worked solidly and industriously, mulling over what he wanted to say as he worked. When Gabriel arrived, Harry followed him to his office and waited for the man to take his first sip of coffee.

Gabriel had listened to Harry's request and had sighed deeply, rolling his eyes. "And have you done something to not be too kind?"

"Not really," Harry admitted.

"Fair enough," Gabriel snorted. He looked up at Harry, leaning back in his chair. "Why? Actually, explain the extent of your relations with this man, your aunt, and your cousin." Gabriel listened as Harry gave him a very rough and somewhat brief description of his childhood. When Harry finished, the man put his coffee cup down with a harder clink than normal, making Harry wince.

"Allow me to understand this properly," Gabriel said in a tone of voice that made Harry wince even more, "you want me to allow these people into my restaurant. You also want to make a special menu for them. Even after all they have done, how they have treated you. After everything they have subjected you to. After the very last act of stunning cruelty, you want to do this."

"Yes Sir," Harry said with an even more profound wince at Gabriel's incredulously angry expression.

"Why?" Gabriel asked mildly. "Why would you entertain this? I see this as karmic retribution, justice. In fact, this is hilarious to me and it honestly should be to you. Why waste your time, your effort, your emotion on this farce?"

He waved a hand when Harry opened his mouth. "And do not tell me it is some drivel about 'oh but it is family'. I fucking hate that excuse. I never accept it. I have cut off members of my own extended family for smaller, technically inconsequential slights."

He glared out the window. "And this…woman, who is your mother's sister, a close relative, who was supposed to care for you, did the opposite. She mocked you. Made you lower than a slave. And at the end, tried to ruin your passion out of selfish spite. Why would you do this for her?"

"Because she's my mother's sister," Harry said quietly.

"Surely you do not think your mother would want you to do this, if she knew how she treated you," Gabriel asked sympathetically.

"I honestly don't know," Harry said. "I mean, I've learned she was actually pretty petty too and carried a grudge."

"Clearly it skipped a generation," Gabriel snorted.

Harry grinned. "I guess, I just want one last chance for them to say they appreciated what I did, what I do."

"They are more likely to castigate you now and insult you again," Gabriel said.

"I know," Harry said quietly. "But I feel like I have to try. One last time. IF they continue to be awful then I'll know for sure and won't do anything like this again. But trying and failing to get what you want isn't a bad thing."

"No, no it is not," Gabriel said softly.

"And if they say thank you and mean it, then I can gloat and rub it in their faces," Harry said.

"No you will not," Gabriel said, looking amused.

"Okay, probably not," Harry admitted, smiling weakly, "but I could."

"I would be amused if you did, vindicated even. In fact, I would endorse this whole-heartedly if that were the case," Gabriel snorted. "But once again, you are too kind to act in that way." He looked out the window for a while, sipping his coffee.

"I know my worth, Chef," Harry said softly. "This doesn't change it, and I promise to not feel lesser if it doesn't work out."

Gabriel looked at him soberly. "It is good that you do. Finally you are listening to me."

"I've always listened to you, Chef Mentor," Harry said, making Gabriel sigh.

"When it suits you." Gabriel looked at Harry's raised eyebrow. "Yes yes, I know I am a hypocrite in some ways." He rubbed his face. "I demand the right to charge them extra for the meal. No discounts."

"No complaints here," Harry said gratefully.

"One foul word and they will leave and the food will be wrapped up and thrown at them," Gabriel said.

"Of course Chef."

Gabriel huffed and finished his coffee. "Fine then. I will allow this foolishness then."

"Thank you, Chef," Harry said, relaxing a little. "I really appreciate it."

"If only they would properly appreciate the lengths you are going," Gabriel said sourly.

-0-

"Oh my," Petunia said, looking around the restaurant. The restaurant was cleaner than clean, the floor polished and the walls gleaming. All the metal work and decoration almost sparkled. The tablecloths were soft and luxurious. The staff were dressed in very neat and clean uniforms and moved like a well-oiled machine. It was very impressive.

La Cuisine was well regarded as one of the best restaurants in Paris, both from a Muggle and a Magical perspective. Gabriel had it well designed and ran where they could accommodate both groups of guests with Muggles not realizing the difference. Dishes that were more magical in nature were served in certain dining areas to avoid notice, and subtle wards helped keep other forms of magic unnoticed. While they had less Muggle guests typically per night, some nights there were mostly Muggle ones and Gabriel ran the restaurant with skill and dedication, as well as attention to detail.

Harry, having known him for some time before officially working for him, had been deeply amused and unsurprised that Gabriel's restaurant's name was simply Kitchen. He later read an article provided by Elodie from a past publication where when questioned why Gabriel named his restaurant that, the chef had said, "I work in a kitchen. It is where I do my best. I know it is a kitchen. People who eat know that food is prepared in one. Why call it something else that it is not? I need no fanciful term, no special place of deep meaning. When people say they go to The Kitchen to eat a meal of fine French cuisine, then I know they are at my restaurant and others will know it too."

Harry wondered if he would ever reach that level of self-confidence.

Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley were sat at a nice table in a small private room that was slightly off the main floor. Dudley looked away from Elodie who was serving them, still unnerved by her and Vernon and Petunia did not notice that Elodie's normally bright eyes were a smidge too bright and her smile was more gritted than normal.

"The chef responsible for your meal tonight has made a special menu for you," she said, her voice slightly too sweet. "No decisions are necessary."

"Well, that's fancy," Vernon said. He missed her scowl and how she muttered under her breath as she left the room. "How are you feeling, Pet?" he asked, looking at her with concern.

Petunia smiled. "I feel fine. Honestly I do. I hate to say it, but maybe it is because we're in Paris right now. I used to not like French food but the meal we had the other night at the company party agreed with me."

She looked around again. "I can't believe we are here. This is one of the best restaurants in the city and even the country! The Masons told me. Apparently the owner and chef is related to the Chef of the Century, another famous chef. However did you get us a reservation, Dudley?"

Dudley's smile was a bit crooked. "I was really lucky," he said.

"I'll say," Vernon chuckled, feeling rather pleased with his family.

"The amuse," Elodie said, coming to the table with a waiter beside her. "Chicken consommé en croute." Small bowls were placed before them, the size of small tea cups, but the tops were encased in pastry. When the golden-brown pastry was broken through, the smell of rich chicken soup wafted through the air.

"Oh say, this is actually good," Vernon said, dipping the broken pastry into the crystal clear soup and eating it with relish. "Quite nice!"

"It's so delicate but full of flavor," Petunia gasped.

"The first course," Elodie said when she appeared with the next plate. "Pork belly smoked and pan seared, served with a poached egg in a butter sauce. Fried mushrooms and toast alongside." The Dursleys admired the thick slice of pork belly that was cooked and glistening and the perfectly soft egg and runny yolk that covered it. Mushrooms were quartered and browned, flecked with herb, along with a toasted baguette and more butter.

"It's like breakfast, but fancy," Vernon chortled. "Normally I'd be put off by it but it tastes familiar and good. I have to say, it takes guts to do this and do it well."

Dudley ate it all, eyes widening as he thought about it. "Mum, how is it?" he asked, looking at her.

"Wonderful!" she smiled, eating it all. "It tastes so good."

"The main course," Elodie announced when the previous plates were removed and large round shallow bowls were put before them. The bottom was covered in a rich luscious deep brown sauce and medallions of beef sat in the center. A garnish of pearl onions, soft carrot, delicate potato, and tiny green peas surrounded the meat and round rolls of soft baked bread were served with it. "Braised beef in sauce with garnish of vegetables."

"Oh this is delicious," Petunia sighed. "The meat is perfect and it's so warming!"

"It's basically a stew, but it's really good," Vernon nodded.

Dudley ate, still saying nothing.

"For dessert, or what you call pudding, a chocolate cake," Elodie said as the last was brought out. A rich soft cake was placed before them and sliced and served with a scoop of vanilla gelato. Once the cake and gelato was portioned and served, she left with the server.

"This is almost a British menu," Petunia joked as she ate.

"Just like the French to take what's ours," Vernon sniffed. He smiled though, looking at his wife. "I can't remember the last time you ate a full meal like this. I don't care who did it then, just to see you full and happy."

"I will hold you to that."

Vernon's head snapped up and he gaped at Gabriel standing there in the doorway to the room. "You?!" he squeaked, a shrill sound from his larger body.

"Me," Gabriel said coldly, staring down at Vernon.

"Is something the matter?" Petunia asked, looking between her husband and the chef. "Are you the chef?"

"I am the Chef and Owner of La Cuisine," Gabriel confirmed, "but I did not make this meal directly. It was made at the request of one of mine and while I tasted it and ensured it was to my restaurant's standards, I was not the one who created the menu nor cooked it for you."

"Then who did?" Vernon and Petunia asked together.

"Harry."

Petunia and Vernon's heads snapped around and looked at Dudley who looked embarrassed but defiant. "I asked Harry to help," Dudley said, meeting Vernon's gaze.

"Harry?" Petunia gasped. "As in…Harry?"

"Harry Potter," Gabriel said, sneering at her. "He is my protégé and my employee. He came to me, asking me to indulge him in this favor and against my better judgement, I allowed it. I did so because I respect him and care for him, but do not think I will not remove you from the establishment without regret because honestly, it would be a pleasure. It is only for him and the fact that you are being charged for the meal is why my hand is being stayed."

"How could you do this?!" Vernon asked loudly, glaring at Dudley.

"Because you still don't get it!" Dudley replied loudly. "Mum ate the food the other night because he made it! And she enjoyed and kept the food down tonight because he made it! Don't you see? Harry's the reason she ate!"

"It is?" Petunia whispered. She looked down at her clean plate. "Oh."

"He must have done something," Vernon sputtered. "To her originally, to the food. He's a freak."

"Freak?" Gabriel's voice was colder than ice and Vernon shrank under the weight of his glare.

"What he calls wizards and stuff," Dudley muttered, face deep red.

Gabriel snorted. "Is that so? Then as am I and the staff and the majority of our guests." He shook his head at Vernon. "How on earth did that boy become who he is with people like you?" He turned to leave. "I will not charge you. Taking your money would demean me and I would feel cheaper for it. You may go and please, do not return."

He left a silent room full of heavy thoughts and heavier history behind him.

-0-

Hours later, Harry walked out of the back door of the kitchen, enjoying the cool night air. As per usual, the night had been very busy and his menu had been offered as a surprise tasting menu for anyone who wanted to try it. There had been more than a few people who wanted it and he had been busy making it for the tables. The feedback from the diners had been very positive and he was proud of it.

He had wondered what happened with the Dursleys. He noticed that Gabriel had been especially annoyed after a certain point in the night and had taken a position at the saute station and Harry knew not to bother him. Gabriel only worked that station when he was annoyed about something and it was better to let him work through whatever needled him. Elodie had also been tight-lipped and was swearing more than usual so Harry had given her a wide berth save for giving her small bits and things to nibble on and she did so with more fervor than usual.

Harry breathed deeply and in mid breath, coughed when he noticed someone standing awkwardly to one side of the alley that ran behind the restaurant. Someone that looked out of place for a variety of reasons. Someone he recognized. "P-Petunia?" he gasped, eyes wide.

Petunia stood there and she looked at Harry with a very complicated expression. "Harry," she replied after getting over the shock of seeing him, how he addressed her.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, looking around nervously. "Where are Dudley and Vernon?"

"Vernon is back at the hotel, Dudley is waiting on the street," Petunia said. She clasped her hands together and looked at him. "Dudley asked one of the staff and they said you all sometimes walk out here to take a break. So I waited."

"Right." Harry did not know what else to say, looking at her and then peering back at the restaurant door.

"Dudley told you, didn't he?"

Harry sighed and nodded. "He did."

She nodded too.

"How was it?" he asked.

"I had forgotten how good food could taste," she said softly, her voice barely heard over the bustle of the busy Parisian streets. "For years now, everything I ate made me feel ill or tasted off. I could not stomach most things, literally. The other night, tonight, I ate and was full and felt full. Satisfied."

"I'm glad to hear it."

She looked at him. "You mean that."

"I do," Harry said quietly, not looking at her.

"While waiting, Dudley and I split a croissant with ham and cheese in it," she said. "It tasted okay. I could still taste that and it didn't make me feel sick."

"Oh, that's good, right?" Harry said, looking at her a little.

"I hope so," she said. She closed her eyes. "Those were the things we made…you made most for us, weren't they? Things we ate a lot of."

"That's right," Harry said softly.

"I thought so. They tasted really good."

He stared at her.

Their eyes met. His were lit by the street lights. Hers were shrouded in the shadows cast by them beside the walls. "Thank you," she whispered.

Harry nodded. "You're welcome," he said.

She turned to leave. "I'm glad you're still cooking," she said before she walked through the alley and away from him.

Harry stared into the dark alley, knowing she was not there, but continued to look nonetheless. He finally turned and walked back to the kitchen, back to the heat and the noise and the food.

"Me too," he whispered.

-0-

Gabriel licked his lips and looked at the sauce in the pan thoughtfully.

"Something wrong, Chef?" Harry asked, worried.

"No," Gabriel said immediately. "No, it is quite good. It just…tastes a little differently."

Harry frowned and thought back on what he did. "I didn't do anything different I don't think."

"I do not think you did either," Gabriel said, tasting the sauce again. He looked at Harry and softened slightly. "It is a good difference, however."

"Thank you, Chef," Harry said, nodding back.

"Keep up the good work," Gabriel said, patting him on the shoulder before he moved deeper into the kitchen. He stopped and adjusted the cravat around Harry's neck before nodding with approval.

"Oui Chef," Harry said, feeling better. He returned to his work and continued to cook to the best of his ability.

-0-0-0-

TheSphynx - I like them a lot too. It lets me just play around in the setting and explore more of the slice of life.

poka - Right? Surprisingly a lot of fun.

alix33 - I hope to make the pie one day. I first read about it in Harry Potter and it sounds tasty to me.

Hands Off MY Wolfie - I've said it before, but I'm awfully proud of Millie. She became such a big character and really grew in a way that was so very satisfying. She's a delight. Thanks for reading.

mike3308 - She had a very good day.

HoneyBear84 - Thank you.

odonnellzoo99 - Birch isn't a rival, just a chore at this point for Millie lol. I love weird animal group names and Carpet sounded perfect for crakes. I am not a fan of sweet bacon typically but those do sound delicious. I'd try one. Yeah, FFN is definitely having a lot of problems. The spam messages from bots have been horrid. I'll still post here, but it's been hard for engagement and other things.