18 Chapter 17: Meeting an Old Acquaintance

"Au revoir!"

Harry winced when the bus disappeared with an obnoxious bang. He would have been more annoyed if he hadn't been staring at Maison Sorcellerie like a country bumpkin.

It deserved to be called the premier auction house in Europe.

Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation and excitement growing inside him. The grand white stone facade of the building rose high above, adorned with intricate carvings of magical creatures like phoenixes and dragons. The tall, imposing doors of the entrance beckoned Harry inside, and to him, it brought up a similar feeling to seeing Hogwarts for the first time.

Perhaps that told more of Harry's greed for powerful magical objects rather than the beauty of Maison Sorcellerie.

"Welcome, sir. The doors will close in an hour, but the public is welcome to view the items until then."

Harry hadn't even noticed the guard standing by the door. That was rather embarrassing, but at least one thing was comforting. The guard spoke perfect English. That bodes well for the auction itself.

"Thank you. I wanted to take a look before the auction tomorrow," Harry felt the need to explain and show that he wasn't just a part of the public. He was important, thank you very much.

"Of course, sir."

Harry had a lingering feeling that he was being mocked. His hand twitched before turning away. As he walked past him, he wondered how the guard knew to speak to him in English. Harry didn't think he exuded that he wasn't French.

He looked down at himself and frowned at the fashionable robe he had bought for rare occasions. Maybe this wasn't in style with the French?

Harry looked around to eye the window shoppers gaping at some of the items on sale and decided that even if what he wasn't wearing wasn't in style, there was no way he would wear what looked like a frilly dress in public. Like that man snootily looking down his nose at everyone around him.

Harry shook his head and decided to walk around. He had to say that whoever ran this auction house did everything possible to keep one's attention on what was for sale.

Each item on the auction block was situated on its own eye-catching podium. Tall mirrors were placed around the podiums that reflected the displayed items to take it even further. It allowed one to see the item from all angles while standing in one spot. Plus, it also allows a glimpse at the others on sale, no matter where you are in the spacious room.

Harry caught the sight of a glint of gold a few meters away. He moved closer to get a better look and saw that it was the pendant he had come here for. He wished it wasn't necessary for him to spend his precious gold on it, especially since he was sure that there must be something in the Room that could help just as much, but time was of the essence. He couldn't afford to wait until he could find what he was looking for in the Room.

"Darling, you must buy this for me. It would look fabulous with the new dress you bought me."

"Anything for you, my love."

Harry glanced at the overly affectionate couple with a frown. He hadn't considered that there would be buyers because the pendant looked pretty. Harry realized it was foolish of him to put his standards of the value of gold on people far wealthier than him. Zabini had been a clear wake-up call for that.

"I wish I could afford this. It's one of the cheapest things sold tomorrow but still costs more than I earn in a year."

"Really? And what will you do with it even if you can afford it? You don't have a girlfriend or a wife to give this to."

"… Shut up."

Harry assumed that these were a couple of locals that wandered inside to gape at the items on display. He put them out of his mind until he realized that they were speaking in English without any discernible accent.

Harry believed that English was the greatest language in the world, but he was quite confident that the French didn't feel the same way. In fact, he was sure they might think it might be the worst, so why were they speaking English instead of French?

Instead of paying attention to the displayed items, Harry observed the people inside the room and tried to eavesdrop. What he found was beyond surprising.

They were all speaking English. Perfect, proper, well-pronounced British English.

It wasn't hard for Harry to conclude that it had something to do with Maison Sorcellerie. There must be some way they had made it possible for someone to hear any conversation in their preferred language. It was fascinating, and something Harry didn't even know could be possible, but there was plenty he didn't know about magic.

Harry gained a new appreciation for the auction house as he browsed the items on display. He took a quick look at the Wizard's Seeker, noting that the crowd around the magical compass was much larger than the pendant. Which was understandable considering what it was used for.

While the pendant was useful, anything involving the mind arts was considered interesting but useless in most people's eyes. Only the practitioners themselves were the ones who understood the actual value.

As for the Wizard's Seeker, it was an item that was attractive to a much larger number of witches and wizards. After all, it was a magical compass that always pointed toward the nearest source of magic. Something beneficial to the plethora of adventurers that explored the untouched or wild areas of the world.

Harry did question why Greengrass wanted this for herself. He couldn't see her scouring the wilderness for some lost magical plant. The image of the always-put-together pureblood in that situation made Harry want to snort in amusement.

"What's so funny, Harry?"

Harry stiffened, not expecting anyone here to recognize him. And he certainly didn't expect to see familiar blue eyes staring at him.

"Delacour?"

"What did I say about calling me by my last name? Has our short separation already reverted you back to your bad habits?"

If Harry had any sense of shame, he would be filled with it right now. He was rather friendly with the part-Veela because of how lucrative she was for him last year. Not only did she bring in plenty of business, but it was business with completely new clients, which was even more meaningful.

Plus, seeing the hopefuls get shot down by the beautiful Fleur Delacour gave him a guilty pleasure.

And somehow, Fleur had gotten even more stunning than she was last year. Harry supposed that wasn't too surprising, but not feeling the allure that made boys at Hogwarts fall over themselves was. She must have gained more control of it.

"It's been a bit, Fleur," Harry smiled, "What brings you here?"

"That's something I should be asking you. What brings a student that should be in Hogwarts to France? Have you finally realized that England is far inferior to France and plan to transfer to Beauxbatons?"

There was a reason Harry thought the French despised all things English. The beautiful part-Veela did nothing to hide how boorish she found Hogwarts and all things English last year. Of course, Harry knew that Fleur played it up for her own amusement, but there was definitely a deeply hidden part of her that truly felt that way.

"I took a leave for the weekend," Harry shrugged, "Can't exactly miss the auction since it happens once a year."

"Shame," Fleur sighed, "I thought it might have been to visit me. Since you haven't responded to my letters, it would have been an adequate apology."

Harry frowned in confusion. "Letters? I'm afraid I haven't got any from you."

"Truly? I must have sent five before I gave up. You cannot tell me you haven't got any of them!"

Harry narrowed his eyes in thought. It could be possible that the Dursleys were involved in hiding the letters, but after they attempted to keep him in the muggle world when he got the invitation to Hogwarts, they generally ignored his existence. The other option was that the letter was intercepted… but Harry couldn't think of why someone would do that.

"I'm sorry," Harry shook his head, "I really haven't received anything from you."

"… I suppose I am happy about that. You weren't ignoring me, then."

"I doubt any wizard could ignore you, Fleur," Harry said drily.

Fleur laughed, getting some stares at the pleasing sound. "You would be surprised. If I remember correctly, didn't you decline my invitation to the Yule Ball?"

Harry had almost forgotten about that. He hadn't been keen on being in the spotlight in such a busy year, so, of course, he had to decline Fleur's invitation.

"And that's something I regret doing every day," Harry lied.

"Hm," Fleur raised a perfect eyebrow in disbelief, "I very much doubt that. You're not one to regret anything, Harry Potter."

Fleur was right in her assumption, but that only made Harry uncomfortable with how easily she had always seen his intentions. He had thought it was a Veela thing, but it was surprisingly hard to get reliable information on that race. It was like someone had carefully curated what was available for people to know.

"Anyway, what brings you here, Fleur? Last we spoke, you wanted to work for the goblins in London."

"I did," Fleur sniffed in annoyance, "But father refused to let me leave France so soon. As for the auction, who wouldn't want to buy the Elixir of Life? Especially since it's rumored to be the last to be sold to the public."

Harry nodded in agreement. It was the auction's headliner, provided by the estate of Nicholas Flamel. The fact that the estate provided it and not the man himself sprung up rumors that the long-living alchemist had passed, and this would be the last Elixir to be available.

Harry was interested in the Elixir too, but as a person without means, the estimated value almost made him choke on air.

"Why would you want to buy it? You certainly don't need to use it on yourself."

"Oh, I'm not going to use the Elixir," Fleur waved her hand, "I like to collect rare potions, and what could be rarer than what might possibly be the last vial of the Elixir of Life?"

Harry stared at Fleur blankly, realizing that Zabini splurging his gold was almost sensible to what he had just heard. "Sorry, I think I must have misheard."

"Oh, not you too, Harry! So what if I have a small collecting hobby?"

"Yes," Harry said drily, "A small hobby that involves spending millions upon millions of galleons on a thing you have no intention of using."

"Has anyone told you that jealousy does not look good on you?"

Harry rolled his eyes and ignored Fleur in favor of looking around the room. That didn't mean he wasn't aware of her walking next to him as he moved from item to item.

He overheard another conversation, bringing the fact that it was in English back to the front of his mind. Luckily, there was someone who probably knew the answer next to him.

"What's causing me to hear everyone speak English?"

"It's amazing, isn't it?!" Fleur almost squealed, "I was able to see some of the work that the runemasters were doing near the finish, and it was a marvel to witness! It works as a combination of a translation spell with an illusion to make the movements of the lip natural. Everyone inside the property hears the language they are most comfortable with."

Harry sighed in amazement. "I wonder why that's not done everywhere."

"That would almost be impossible," Fleur laughed, "It took Maison Sorcellerie over ten years and a literal mountain of gold to make this possible."

Harry nodded, feeling more impressed by the auction house the more he heard of it. He made some small talk with Fleur as they walked the floor until the doors were about to be shut.

"Where are you staying, Harry?"

"Close by," Harry pointed at a building as they exited the auction house, "I think it's called the Five Elements Hotel."

"Un hôtel pour les non-magiques?" Fleur paused, "Désolé. Why are you staying een a hôtel for nonmagicals?"

Harry already missed the effect of being inside Maison Sorcellerie. Though, he had to admit he did like Fleur's accented English, as abominable as it should have sounded to him.

"It was mainly the proximity," Harry shrugged, "I didn't consider much else."

Fleur hummed as she kept in stride with Harry. After a few seconds, she asked, "Do you truly regret saying no to my invitation?"

"Hm?" Harry had to think briefly about what Fleur said, "Oh, of course. If you remember, I went to the Yule Ball with a far less beautiful girl."

"Zen I shall give you anozzer chance. Don't go to your hôtel yet. Accompany me for ze night."

Harry stopped walking to stare at Fleur. Wondering if she meant what he thought she did. In terms of looks, there was no doubt that Fleur had no equal, but he also knew that she didn't fit the stereotypes of blondes. She was no fool.

"Do you know what you're saying?" Harry asked with a smile.

"I am asking you on a date. What did you zink I was saying?" Fleur replied with an innocent look.

Harry thought she looked a little too innocent to be believable. He didn't believe Fleur was asking him on an actual date. It was likely an enticement for something else, though Harry didn't know what it could be. That made more sense than a gorgeous seventeen-year-old asking someone younger on a date.

As much as Harry believed in his looks, he wasn't vain enough to fool himself into thinking he could catch Fleur Delacour's attention.

However, Harry was a growing wizard with all the hormones that entailed. Plus, there weren't any excuses for him to decline like he did for the Yule Ball.

"Very well," Harry smirked, "I want to see how you plan on wooing me."

Fleur giggled and gave him a blinding smile. "You will be ruined for everyone else, 'Arry Potter."