Sunday, July 20th, 2014. 1:30 PM.
The Crooked House of Windsor Tea Shop
51 High Street, Windsor, England
The private room Harry had been shown to was larger than he had expected. The building, though beautifully cared for, seemed to huddle on its tiny footprint of land. Harry supposed it suffered from comparison with its neighbours, at least in consideration of its size.
Narcissa Black Malfoy was late, of course, but Harry had expected nothing else. He was holding the copy of the Daily Prophet he had picked up. It was open before him, turned to the Sport. He had ordered right away, so his cup was full of excellent tea, and he had made a good start on the savory scones that were a specialty of the house.
The header picture on Viktor's column showed him standing by the throne-like wing-back chair, which was artfully draped with the Bulgarian flag. He was standing in the position of Broom At Ease, which Ron must have taught him. The martial pose suited Krum, right down to the stoic way he stared down the camera.
KRUM ON THE CUP!!
POST-GAME - LOOKING BACK
Bulgaria 410 - New Zealand 170
As my team were in this game, I will forebear discussing it, save for this: The New Zealand team were fierce and worthy opponents, and they uncovered flaws in our preparation that they were quick to exploit. Our Chasers, especially, were given a good, sharp lesson in the subtleties of overcoming adversity by Chasers Lydia Ko and Quade Cooper. Our training going forward will address this weakness. I salute them, and the rest of their team, for a game well-played.
If you wish further factual details of the game itself, I refer you to Ginevra Weasley-Potter's article on the front page. If what you want is rumour, innuendo and speculation on matters only tangentially related to the game, I am given to understand there is a paper called 'The Quibbler'...
ADDENDUM: I would be remiss if I did not mention the pride I take in the recognition and honours my friend, Ronald Weasley deservedly received. I owe this man much, and I am certain that we will face many further challenges together.
PRE-GAME - LOOKING FORWARD.
Japan versus Poland - 21 July 2014
Just a week ago, I would have called this game much differently. I was enamored of the Polish side's youthful flash and potential. I would have called it a toss-up as to whom would emerge victorious. Recent events have led me to reevaluate this conclusion. Youth is well and good, and the search for prodigies such as Poland's Wladyslaw Wolfke must continue. But contrast this to Japan's Seeker, Sato Noriko, and veteran Beaters Hongo Akari and Shingo Akira, who, taken together, have more than twice the total playing time of the entire Polish team.
I call the match for Japan. Barring chance, I doubt it will be close.
(Translated from Bulgarian by ProphetLabs Portable Protean Printer, M.P.O. Patent No. JNY867-5309. All Rights Reserved).
Something twinged at Harry's proximity sense. He snap-folded the paper, tucking it away in his dimensional pocket. Obeying his instinct, he stood, soundlessly rotated the tea table 180o, and sat down in the opposite chair.
He had his teacup almost to his lips when a panel in the wall silently opened, directly behind where he had been sitting. Framed therein was Narcissa Black Malfoy. She had a slightly superior expression on her face at first, but it quickly drained away. It was replaced by cool consideration, leavened with just a touch of irritation.
"Madam Malfoy," Harry said politely, rising. "Allow me."
He held the chair as she sat, then crossed immediately to the door, and opened it. The server who had been about to tap stood with one hand raised, the other holding a small tray with fresh cups, a tiny plate of biscuits, and a small steaming pot of tea.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
She recovered almost instantly, gliding in and exchanging the fresh pot for Harry's empty one, setting the biscuits, by Madam Malfoy, clearing Harry's used cup, and, after taking a quick glance at Harry, leaving the scones in place. She accomplished all this in one smooth pass across the table.
"Thank you, Amortentia." Narcissa laid two pale fingers on the even paler young woman's wrist. "Excellent, as always."
'Thank, you, Madam. And, as always, an honour and a pleasure to receive your custom. Please inform Mister Malfoy that the staff enquired about him."
"Of course not," Narcissa replied. The women exchanged the smallest of cynical smiles. The server removed herself as silently as she had come.
Harry raised an eyebrow very slightly, Narcissa's nod was just as subtle. Harry poured for them both.
"Sugar?" he asked. "Honey?"
"I find the blend quite sweet enough, thank you." She raised the cup to her lips, pausing to let the sensitive skin there judge the heat, then took a delicate sip.
Harry's first sip was not quite so tentative, and larger. He smiled as the flavour impinged on his palate.
"Amortentia," he said. "Served by Amortentia. A delightful young woman."
"A Fawley by birth," Madam Malfoy supplied. "Her maternal line is Greengrass, reinforced several times on her paternal side. For whatever reason, Fawley men seem to favour Greengrass women, and vice-versa." She paused, then continued. "She is quite lucky to have avoided the Blood Curse."
"I did note a slight resemblance to your daughter-in-law. Does the Curse never have a late onset?"
"Never. And never through the male line," she said, a little too firmly. "Which, for Scorpius' sake, I am very relieved to know."
Harry's smile was wide and genuine. "I do like that lad. Not an ounce of back up anywhere in him."
Narcissa's gaze was enquiring, and, perhaps, a touch hostile.
Harry sighed, very slightly, and got to the point. "Madam Malfoy, I am here, as you know, to follow up on the report you made to the Ministry of Magic. I do apologise for having to postpone. Draco was supposed to get in touch with you, and lay some groundwork. Did he?"
"Yes. Very sketchy, and very tentative." She looked somewhat unsatisfied.
"As I had asked him to be," Harry affirmed. The woman looked slightly taken aback at the statement. Probably because she found the very thought odd. One: That Harry would ask Draco to do anything, and, B: That Draco would agree.
"This is tied to an ongoing investigation, so he and I both are curtailed in what we can share with you. I am, however, going to be as up-front with you as possible. I am not going to ask you to be read in, or sworn to secrecy. You would, no doubt, find it offensive. I, on the other hand, do find it completely unnecessary."
Her look was sceptical. "That is quite a change from the last time we spoke."
Harry smiled grimly. "I think you are mistaken, Madam Malfoy. I believe you are thinking of our exchange at Madam Malkin's. The last time we spoke, we were both whispering, two sentences from you, one word from me. After which, you performed one of the bravest acts I have ever witnessed. You stood up and lied, right to Tom Riddle's ugly face.
Despite everything that had occured, Narcissa's conditioned reflexes gave her a twinge at hear the Dark Lord being spoke about so disrespectfully. It was momentary, and quite obviously shoved down with great force.
She hesitated, then spoke. "I... never thanked you..."
Harry interrupted, gently. "No. I never got to thank you for, quite literally, saving my life. Everything I had gone through would have been for nothing. All of Dumbledore's too complex and unnecessarily secretive plans would have crumbled to the ground. We would be living in a very different world, if your love for your son had not forced you to act, and act decisively."
She raised an eyebrow at the Golden Boy's bitter remarks about the Great and Powerful Dumbledore. She also recognised the great and terrible secrets behind them. And they were secrets she obviously did not want to know.
"Here is as much as I can tell you. There is a large and quite well-organised plot in motion. We have no idea of what their end goals may be. What they are doing is using suborned Ministry assets to track down and acquire items and artefacts connected to the late Tom Riddle. (Harry noted that Narcissa's eyes had narrowed, and her lips had compressed to a thin, hard line). The ones we know of, or at least suspect, all appear to be intensely magical. They are also using some new form of magic we do not completely understand."
Harry paused for a moment, and continued. "From the incidents you reported, they are targeting people and places with a special connection to Riddle. They do not seem to know exactly what they want, but the question of who might have such things is easier to figure out. We believe they are targeting you and your husband, possibly for Riddle's Diary. We know they have been harassing and attacking Draco at the Manor, but it has quite successfully resisted all attempted incursions."
A momentary look of satisfaction crossed Narcissa's face, before it returned to tight lipped concentration. Harry grinned inwardly.
"What I wish to ask you is this. Has anyone been, I guess, sniffing around about the 'Good Old Days'? Speaking casually of Riddle, maybe lamenting that he does not have his proper place in History? Anything like that?"
Narcissa was staring, but not really at Harry. It was like she was looking through him, beyond him, at something only she could see.
She refocused slightly. After a moment, she said, hesitantly at first. "I... It may be possible. Is there any way to give me a name, something to narrow the scope? There are people who bluster, but who, I am sure, would abandon their homes and families if their 'wishes' were granted. Then there are those who, shall I say, can not adapt to new ways, even though they do not want the old ways back. And, last there are people who mind me of... (her mouth quirked), snakes, smooth and cool to the touch, but the venom is never far from their words."
Harry hesitated, but decided to take a chance. After yesterday's events at the Cup, there was a countdown on keeping anything contained.
He steeled himself. "Contessa Lucrezia Zabini."
Narcissa Black Malfoy froze. For the first time ever, Harry saw just a little color in the cold, controlled woman's cheeks.
"That... Bloody... BITCH!!"
