The restaurant was called Maxim's, and it was a literal temple of Art Nouvea. As was the case with Art Nouvea, the decorations within the restaurant held a complete disdain for straight lines and sharp edges, preferring a more natural theme with graceful waves and billows. The main theme behind the art was flora, plant life. Painted along the walls, the ceiling, and even stitched into the carpet were intricate illustrations of various flowers that were interwoven together in a beautiful blend that seemed to capture the essence of nature.
The restaurant was one of the few located within the magical district of Rue de la Magie. It was also one the more expensive places to eat, which would explain why there were so many nobles sitting around in expensive wizarding robes as they ate their meals and made light conversation.
Harry had no idea how Selene had managed to get them entrance. All signs pointed towards Perennelle's aid.
"You know, I'm very surprised you can actually eat human food."
Harry's comment had Selene look up from her glass of wine, a Cabernet Sauvignon, with a slight smile. She was wearing an expensive black gown with a plunging V-neck that went all the way down to her solar plexus just below the bust and allowed for an enticing view of her creamy, milk colored cleavage. Harry tried not to pay attention to the sway of her bosom caused by the slight movements she made. He was too young to be interested in such things.
"You are?" she sounded amused.
"Yes," Harry nodded his head as he gestured towards the food Selene was eating; Filet de Boeuf au Poivre, a grilled filet mignon in a rich peppercorn red brandy cream sauce. "I hadn't realized vampires could eat regular food. I thought you only drank blood."
"We don't need to eat regular human food," Selene admitted with an elegant shrug. "And most of us don't. However, there are a rare few who enjoy eating food like this." She absently swirled her wine just a bit before taking a small sip. "My father, for one. He may be a hard liner when it comes to vampire traditionalism, but he will never turn down a rare steak and red wine."
"I see," Harry took her words in stride. "Do you mind if I ask you a question?"
"You just did," Selene said with a smile. Harry rolled his eyes.
"Very well, do you mind if I ask you a personal question?"
Selene hummed for a moment, as if taking his question under serious advisement. After several seconds of watching Harry's face become more and more uncomfortable, she smirked.
"Go ahead."
"You said your last name was Dracul," Harry began. "I was just wondering if you were related to Vlad III, the member of the House of Drăculeşti who later on went to become known as Vlad the Impaler."
Selene was silent for a moment.
"And if I was?" she asked finally. "What would you do?"
"What would I... do?" Harry blinked, confused. "What do you mean? I wouldn't do anything. It's not like I care who you're related to. I was just curious."
For just a second, Selene looked well and truly shocked. It was almost worth all those strange feelings and desires this girl brought to the fore in him to see her look like she had just taken a metaphorical curve ball to the face. Almost.
"You are proving yourself to be a more and more interesting individual, amore," she sounded pleased for some reason. "Yes, I am related to Vlad III Drăculea."
"So Vlad really was a vampire..." Harry mused. The tales of Count Dracula made by Bram Stoker had been based off of Vlad the Impaler. Ever since he had learned that Vampires did indeed exist, he had wondered if stories such as that held any truth to them.
Selene shook her head.
"No," she corrected. "Vlad was not a vampire, just a human with an insatiable blood lust. Our family did not become vampires until after Vlad's death, sometime in the early fifteen hundreds, when a man bearing a grudge against Vlad cursed his family line to forever crave the taste of human blood. Or so the story goes. I myself don't know how true it is, but it is a story that's been passed down through my family for generations."
"Ah..."
Harry said nothing more, turning the majority of attention to his own food; Carre d'Agneau, roasted rack of lamb served over a roasted garlic rosemary demi-glace and garnished with flageolet beans. It was an exquisite meal. Truly, the French knew how to make good food.
The meal was finished eventually. As the waiter would likely not be there for a while (dinner in France was meant to be enjoyed with conversation, not rushed like you were eating at McDonalds), Selene used this time to open up dialogue again.
"Tell me, amore, have you ever tried wine tasting?"
Harry made a face, both at her petname and her question.
.
.
.
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