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Queens ch.2
🕑 Added 2023-05-21 11:42:09 +0000 UTCGabrielle rolled her eyes. "He was flirting with another girl right in front of me," Gabrielle said. "And when I called him out on it, he tu
Gabrielle rolled her eyes. "He was flirting with another girl right in front of me," Gabrielle said. "And when I called him out on it, he turned nasty. We got into a huge argument that escalated until I finally kicked him out of the apartment." Fleur sighed. "Gabbi, that's terrible news. I told you he was a player."
"You were living with him?" Harry asked.
"I was living with him," Gabrielle said. "For a total of nineteen days. She laughed bitterly and shook her head. "I certainly know how to pick them, don't I? Here, do you want this?" She handed Harry a plate with a bagel.
Gabrielle sat down at the table next to Fleur, and Harry took the last remaining seat across from Fleur.
"You don't have to move in with Chloe," Fleur said. "Bill never uses his office. I can turn it into a third bedroom."
"No," Gabrielle said, biting into her bagel. "I can't ask you to do that, and I know how upset Bill would be if he lost his office."
"You can have your old room back," Harry said. "I can stay at Grandpa Black's place in Germany. He has plenty of space."
"No," Fleur said. "We're closer to Paris for your classes, and you'd have to commute to the Ministry every day for International Portkey Registration. That's the whole reason you moved in with us." Gabrielle smiled and leaned towards Harry. "Maybe we can share a room, huh, Harry?"
She giggled, and Harry's stomach flipped. He would give anything for that to become a reality. "You're such a tease," Harry said, trying to play it off with a nervous laugh.
"Maybe stay for another night and decide tomorrow," Fleur said.
Gabrielle sighed and bit into her bagel. "I don't know. Let me talk to Chloe first."
As if it was predetermined, Fleur closed her light blue eyes at Harry. "How's your day looking?"
"I'm visiting Grandpa Arcturus today," Harry said. "He enjoys watching Quidditch qualifying matches with me."
"Please boo for me when my ex catches the Snitch," Gabrielle said.
"That's sweet that you see him every week," Fleur said. "I wish Bill would talk to Arthur more often."
Ron's brother hadn't visited his family in at least a year, which was definitely a sore point. But for Harry, visiting his grandpa wasn't difficult at all. He was the best friend Harry had in the world. "Give him a kiss for me," Fleur said.
"Me too," Gabrielle said. "He's such a sweet old man."
If only they knew half of it. "Consider your kisses delivered."
"Let's get this straight," Grandpa said. "Gabrielle Delacour showed up in your bed wearing a thin shirt, and you didn't make a move? He sat back in his stadium seat, folded his arms across his chest, and shook his head. "I feel like we're back to square one. Have I taught you nothing?"
Harry looked up at the roof. The match had just begun. His grandfather, Arcturus Black, owned the townhouse with seating on the roof that formed the entire pitch. It wasn't just a coincidence, or as Arcturus liked to say, it was a coincidence, but the Blacks were meant to assist coincidences by providing the pitch themselves. Over the years, he added stadium-style seating and a retractable roof that provided plenty of shade. He sat next to Harry, dressed in a sleek robe that didn't match the cap of one of the teams on his head. Under the cap, you could see strands of gray hair from his grandfather, and his thin, tired face was lined with wrinkles, earned through ninety-five years spent on Earth. "I'm not the type of guy who can just move in with a girl," Harry said.
Grandpa sighed. "I know, and that's why you should be fending them off with a broomstick. You're a smart, funny, and handsome kid. I don't understand it, Harry."
"I'm shy," Harry said. "And..." He hung his head. "And what?"
"And I'm afraid of rejection," Harry said.
Grandpa scoffed. "Screw rejection," he said. "If there's one thing I've learned, it's that winners laugh in the face of rejection. You know what rejection costs you?" Harry stared at him, waiting for the inevitable answer. "Nothing. That's right," he said. "We got you access to this apartment. You wanted to win over your dream girl, right?
"You mean my friend's brother's girlfriend, who's seven years older than me?" Harry asked. "That was your idea, not mine."
Grandpa retorted, "Bill is a jerk who doesn't deserve that girl. Now you have a chance with both sisters."
Harry's jaw dropped. "Both at the same time? Grandpa, I can't. No way. They're out of my league."
"Bullshit," he said. "That's a load of crap. His eyes gleamed intensely. "They're just people like you. In fact, I'd argue that you're out of their league."
Harry rolled his eyes. "You're biased."
Down on the pitch, two Seekers, including Gabrielle's ex, zoomed after the Snitch, eliciting cheers from the crowd. "Little Gabrielle Delacour was dating that jerk?" Grandpa asked.
"Yes," Harry replied.
Grandpa furrowed his brow. "She likes bad boys, huh?" He rubbed his chin, furrowed his brow, and nodded. "Well, that might work then," he muttered under his breath.
"I don't like the look on your face," Harry said. "Grandpa, stop worrying about my love life. I'm fine."
Grandpa turned and looked at Harry with a judging gaze. "Harry, if there's one thing I know, it's human nature. Is that a fair statement?"
"Oh, no," Harry folded his arms and shook his head. "I won't fall for the Socratic method."
"I spent twenty years as a mind healer, and another twenty profiling serial killers," he said.
Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm not a serial killer, just like the Delacour sisters."
"We have a real opportunity here," Gramps said. "I'll prove to you that neither of those sisters is out of your league. Damn it, I'll make it a hat trick and throw in the Ice Queen herself."
"Grandpa, Daphne is married and has a two-year-old child. Let it go. Why do you even want to do this?"
"I have my reasons, but I need a willing partner," he said. "Be that partner, and we'll take you on the ride of your life."
The Beaters closed in on Gabrielle's ex as he narrowly evaded them, catching the Snitch.
The crowd erupted, jumping to their feet.
"You know what women like in bad boys?" Grandpa asked.
"Enlighten me," Harry replied.
"Muggle evolutionary biologists believe that women's attraction to hypermasculinity boils down to DNA. Those testosterone-fueled Neanderthals produce better genes." Grandpa glanced sideways at Harry, as if gauging his reaction. "Guys like that exude masculinity. They're bold and approach life with a confidence that women find attractive. Some women, like Gabrielle, might even believe they can tame the bad boy, settle him down, and win his heart."
"I'm not hypermasculine," Harry said.
Grandpa nodded. "I know you're not. Believe it or not, that's our secret weapon. You're a genuine, caring person who exudes empathy and kindness. Those are valuable traits that make you an ideal lifelong partner."
Harry smiled. "Thanks... I think."
"But you lack confidence," Grandpa said. "You'll never be a bad boy. Damn it, I don't want you to be a bad boy. That's what your friend's brother is for."
Harry furrowed his brow. "Did Fleur do that? Tame the bad boy?"
Grandpa shrugged. "They're not married yet. Did she really tame him?"
"Probably not," Harry said.
"Bingo," Grandpa said. "Give him a prize."
"So, you're telling me it's hopeless? Women like Gabrielle and Fleur see me as the sweet, harmless little brother. I'm so deep in the friend zone that other guys will soon elect me as mayor."
Grandpa laughed and slapped his knee. "Humor is good. We're going to need humor." He reached down and opened the cooling rune box standing between their feet, handing Harry a beer before opening one for himself.
Harry took a sip of the ice-cold drink and sighed, gazing down at the expanse of field beneath them.
"Do you trust me, Harry?" Grandpa said, looking at him. There was sincerity in his voice that he only emphasized when he had something to say. Harry furrowed his brow and nodded. "With my life."
"You want Gabrielle and Fleur Delacour?" he asked. "Yes," Harry replied. "More than anything else."
"We'll start from the basics, but you'll have to apply this knowledge exactly as I say, even if it makes you uncomfortable."
"Now you're scaring me," Harry said before taking a sip of beer.
"It's really simple," the grandfather said. "I want you to be honest with Gabrielle, Fleur, or any other woman you're interested in."
"I am honest," Harry said.
The grandfather shook his head. "You're missing the point. I want you to be honest, even if you disagree with them. I want you to share your weaknesses and fears. Your hopes and dreams. I also want you to openly express your observations, which may be perceived as a slight insult or the opposite. Honesty is nature's secret aphrodisiac."
"Is that all?" Harry stared at him in disbelief. "That's your great pearl of wisdom? Honesty?"
"You mock, but how many times have you hidden your true feelings or opinions? I bet you've done it many times today. Think about your interactions with Gabrielle, Fleur, and anyone else. Were you completely honest? Did you hold back?"
Harry held back. Quite a bit. "I don't want to come across as a jerk," he said.
"Why not?" the grandfather asked. "Remember, be honest." Harry sat for a while, pondering the answer. "Fear of rejection."
"Ding, ding, ding." The grandfather covered his eyes. "You hit the bullseye, son."
"But there's a chance I'll be rejected or even annoy them."
The grandfather nodded. "Bad boys take that risk because they don't care if they get rejected. It's a very appealing quality in people. It exudes confidence."
"Honesty with the Delacour sisters. Is that it?" Harry asked.
"Of course not, but first, you need to progress. By the way, true honesty isn't something you can practice whenever it suits you. It must become your new default setting. We all walk around with our minds protecting us from the slightest breeze of failure or rejection. Let those worries vanish with a flick of the wand. Allow yourself the freedom to fall flat on your face. If you don't consistently practice it, it won't look genuine. And let me tell you, Harry, there's nothing worse in life than falsehood."
"I might lose them," Harry said. The grandfather nodded. "But there's a greater chance your dreams will come true."
Harry sighed and looked out into the field. "Alright, I'll try it your way."
The grandfather nodded approvingly and smiled before reaching for his pocket. "Here, take this." He handed Harry a black Gringotts card with his name embossed on the front.
Harry furrowed his brows. The black Gringotts card was only available by invitation. He knew his grandfather had money, but not a black card. "Bloody hell, grandad. This is a black card. I thought it was just a legend. And it has my name on it? How wealthy are you?"
He smiled. "Well, that's honesty in action." He pushed it towards him. "Take it."
Harry took the card from him and tucked it into his pocket. "Are you going to answer me?"
"Over the years, I've invested a lot of money in real estate," he said. "And I've reinvested those profits into long-term stocks and bonds. One day, after my death, you'll find out exactly how much I'm worth. I'll make you the executor of my will."
Harry grimaced. "I don't want to talk about your death. You're as healthy as can be."
He nodded. "For now, yes, but death will eventually come to us all, and I'm certainly getting closer."
Harry sighed. "Thanks."
