Odds
Harry stumbled out and could feel himself falling towards the ground before the hand on his shoulder tugged him backwards, somehow stabilizing the boy. The same hand decided then to steer him into the room, it was a big round one devoid of any furniture. The ceiling was almost as high as the one in the great hall. Harry frowned as he studied the room intently, it felt weird to only have a fireplace in such large space. It all seemed very expensive, he had hard time keeping his eyes off the floor, the dark wood seemed to be much too nice to exist as a floor.
"That too is mahogany" the man said, he had let go of Harry's shoulder and had moved towards the humongous double door. Harry rolled his eyes that man’s comment.
"Follow me"
Harry wanted to ask where they were going to regain some semblance of control of the situation but decided against it, he had no control of this situation no matter what he tried to tell himself. He had followed a stranger home; he didn't even know the man's name for merlin's sake. Not that it would matter if the man planned to kill him, what could he do with the name of his supposed killer? He would be dead, he’s pretty sure that the name would do him no good as a dead corpse.
Maybe this would be the end of one Harry James Potter.
A bit anticlimactic really.
The man led Harry through what seemed to be castle, stone walls encased them, and he could hear their steps echo as they walked. He wondered if the place had a dungeon, it felt inevitable in this kind of building.
He hoped that he wasn’t taken to said dungeon.
They soon reached what seemed to be a sitting room and Harry released a breath in relief. The man gestured for him to take a seat on one of the sofas in the middle of the room. Harry could feel how his dirty clothes spread to the rather nice velvet fabric. It felt like a crime. The man called on a house elf and said something in French to it, Harry did yet again wish to understand the language.
His eyes followed the man as he took a seat on the other side of the table. The elf popped away in the way that Dobby could do.
Did that count as apparating?
Harry pondered the thought a second before the elf popped in again. He or she put two cups of tea on the table and a plate filled with thing’s that looked like… croissants? Harry leaned closer to take a better look, and yes. It was indeed croissants.
“Help yourself, please” The man said with a smile.
Harry didn’t wait a second before grabbing a croissant, he would drink the tea afterwards when his stomach had been filled. He frowned at the thing in is hand before taking a large bite. This would be his first time trying it. His eyes widened as he felt it be pressed together as if it had been air that was filling it. He finished his bite and started chewing confusedly.
It wasn’t that bad.
But he wasn’t a fan either.
He didn’t know how to describe the taste and was disappointed to find it lacking any sweetness. He felt himself missing Treacle tart more than ever.
Harry felt his heart sink when he saw the mess he had created. Crumbs were everywhere, he looked at the man. Hoping that he wouldn’t withdraw his offer of asylum. The rational part of Harry knew that crumbs wouldn’t change something as big as that, but Harry wasn’t very good at using that part of him when nervous.
“Not enjoying the croissant?” The man asked with a tilt of his head. He didn’t comment on the crumbs.
“Loved it, best ever” Harry said, lying through his teeth. It was only as the words were spoken that Harry noticed how fake they really sounded.
He gave the man a strained smile.
The Frenchman laughed and went to say something when a woman entered the room.
She was the most beautiful woman Harry had ever seen. There was something about her that mesmerized him, he frowned at his own thoughts. They felt forced somehow and the cloud that had surrounded him disappeared as soon as he realized this. Harry looked between the man and woman as they greeted each other, the man proceeded with wrapping an arm around her waist.
“Meet my wife, Apolline” he said while smiling down at the woman affectionately.
They made quite the couple, very tall and very blonde. Harry was grateful that they weren’t as blonde as Malfoy, the French couple lacked any resemblance to his school nemesis. Harry didn’t know what he would do if it turned out that he had managed to find some French relatives of the bloody ferret.
“Hello Harry” the woman said with a much heavier accent than the man. She had big brown eyes that almost looked doe-like, Harry preferred them over her husband’s icy blue.
“Thank you for your hospitality” Harry said with a weak smile, he did not know if he wanted to stay or run. The couple didn’t seem threatening, but they were stranger’s nonetheless who knew who he was.
He wanted to hit his head against something real hard for being so careless. He still couldn’t believe that two weeks of freedom ended in this. Harry would never admit that some part of him was relived at getting caught.
No, that would be like admitting that he made a mistake running away.
“It’s our pleasure, we’ve only heard good things about you” The woman said with a wide smile.
Harry sighed tiredly. “None of the books are true, just so you know” he said.
He remembered when he first learned about the existence of those blasted books. He had at first been shocked but that shock had soon been replaced by anger.
Someone made profit on spreading lies about his life and based on Ginny’s starry eyes there were those who believed them. He wondered absentmindedly if the people at school believed them.
It was a sobering thought.
“Books? Non, I was speaking about our daughters”
This made Harry groan. They had fangirls as daughters, of course.
Harry muttered beneath his breath. “Brilliant”
The man quirked an eyebrow at his reaction. “I think they would be very disappointed at such a reaction young man” he said without any hint of malice.
Harry grimaced. “Sorry it’s just I’m tired of people thinking they know me without having meet me”
The man started to laugh at his comment, it was loud and startled Harry. The woman rapidly hit the man behind his head, it was enough to make him gather himself.
The blue-eyed man massaged the back of his head and threw his wife an accusatory look.
She meets the look with a scowl.
“You haven’t introduced yourself?” she almost shrieked, it was reminiscent to the tone that Mrs. Weasley would use on the twins.
The man looked sheepish.
“I thought my aurors did that”
The woman rolled her eyes.
“Forgive my husband’s lack of decorum. My name is Apolline Delacour. I believe you meet my daughters last year?”
Harry gaped at the woman. Recognizing the last name quite well. He blinked and studied the pair more carefully. Now that he knew who they were it was easy to see the likeness between the French girl he’d competed against and the woman in front of him.
They looked very alike.
“Uhm, hi?”
The woman smiled indulgently. “I think we should let you clean yourself up, non? Come with me”
Harry nodded and took his backpack before following the French woman.
Harry wrinkled his nose and shook his head.
He had managed to stumble into the home of the Delacour family.
The only French family he knew of.
What was the odds of that?