Chapter 150

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From the corner of my eye, I noticed the small number of wizards around, but what caused a little annoyance was that there was Malfoy, Nott, Parkinson, and Daphne Greengrass. They were sitting at the same table, eating lunch, not forgetting to burn me with their gaze. It's good that now they are busy with lunch, and while eating, you shouldn't be distracted. I hope they will eat for a long time, and better - all the time.

In general, there are differences from the usual restaurants, and the first thing that catches my eye is the lack of a closet. Well, we are wizards. We can deal with clothes. Service seems to be usual, but something different, subtly different.

For a few minutes, I sat there, thinking that Malfoy and company were going to run out of food. That he was going to come over and start some attempt to insult me for the sake of self-aggrandizement. But so far, he was eating, and he was trying to do it quickly, looking at me and his companions with displeasure as they started to eat more slowly. It's really funny. In fact, there are plenty of excuses to leave the table...

My thoughts were interrupted by Hannah coming up the stairs, accompanied by a tall blonde in a dark blue closed gown below her knees, strict, without unnecessary embellishments, a black sleeveless fitted robe. Her hair, of a cold hue, was gathered into a simple, tall hairdo, with only a small pendant to adorn it. Judging by the direction of the couple's movement, my expectations were somewhat off.

<Ho-ho! I also thought that Delphine would be plus or minus Walburga's age, but here she is ... Look how she moves!>

Rowena instantly downloaded into my brain an interpretation of the lady's fluid movements. Blade, stiletto, assassin. She moves very smoothly.

Rising from my chair, I took a step toward her.

"Maximilian Knight, I presume?" the lady spoke with a slight smile. She was also quite tall in relative proximity, and it's a good thing she wasn't in high heels, or I would have felt uncomfortable. Ah, I wish I could grow up sooner. I hope I'll make it to my usual meter eighty-five.

"You're quite right, Lady Greengrass," and that was her, for there was a rather obvious resemblance to Daphne.

Nobody gave a hand to anyone, but this is not surprising - there is no trust in the other side. As it should be, I pushed a chair aside for a lady and only then took my seat. I looked back at Draco and company. Only Daphne seemed to recognize my companion, but the guys could be forgiven - we were practically at the other end of a rather large hall, and their position was such that Delphine had her back to them the whole time.

"I have to be honest," Delphine spoke up. "I was extremely surprised to receive a letter from you."

"May I ask what exactly?"

"Well, a young wizard in Muggle-born status, not yet graduated from Hogwarts, a student of the Godric Gryffindor House, where social connections and information have been neglected for decades, writes a letter to a master whose status as a master is nowhere advertised. That should be interesting at the very least, shouldn't it?"

"Absolutely," I replied with a smile upon a smile. "But wouldn't it be wise to gather information regardless of House?"

"Reasonableness and Gryffindor," as if Lady Delphine had tasted the words. "Those words too rarely occur in the same sentence, and it's not prejudice - it's statistics."

"Here, I have to agree. There are a regrettably small number of reasonable wizards to be found in our House."

"What about you, Mr. Knight?" didn't fail to emphasize the last name with a smile in intonation.

For a brief moment, I admired the not-so-typical English type, something Nordic and Western European. Besides, Delphine looks too young, and I thought she would be in a different age category. Yeah.

"Somewhere in the middle, if you look globally, but obscenely intelligent for the House. At least I dare hope so."

"Let's hope so, Mr. Knight. Isn't it time we took advantage of the service this establishment provides and had lunch?"

"I completely agree with you."

Taking the menu in our hands, we immersed ourselves in studying it, but just a few seconds later, Delphine spoke up:

"It seems they've learned how to make something new here again. Hmm, another Italian pasta? A strangled priest? That's adorable."

Finding this menu item with my eyes, I only saw the name in Italian, though I understood it.

"Many cuisines around the world have unconventional names," I decided to keep the conversation going. "I remember encountering "Son-in-law's Eggs" in Thai cuisine. Despite the name, the dish has quite an ordinary story. A young guy's mother-in-law suddenly showed up, and there was no food in the house. Also, the guy did not know how to cook. So he boiled chicken eggs, fried them in butter, and poured the sauce from what he had at hand - palm sugar, tamarind juice, and soy sauce."

"Indeed," Delphine smiled after listening. "And what a promising name, after all. But there are surprises in English cuisine, too. How do you feel about raisin puddings?"

"Oh, you mean that one? The one that is "spotted"?"

"Absolutely."

"A never-ending joke to all the uninitiated."

"Yes, and for the initiated too. An acquaintance of mine from France long resented refusing to eat a dish with that name."

After a few more seconds, Delphine spoke again:

"I'm getting more and more inclined to step away from tradition a little bit and order a full lunch."

I have been living in England for so long, and I still cannot get used to the fact that dinner is called lunch here.

"Neither am I. It promises to be a busy day, and I'm not sure when my next meal will be."

"Likewise."

So we decided. As soon as we put the menu aside, a waitress literally materialized next to us. Catherine stood nearby during the conversation, tactfully giving time for conversation and choice. After handing over the order, I was surprised that the wait was only a couple of minutes. Magic, though!