This time Harry wasn't surprised to awaken next to someone other than Ginny. Helena, he reminded himself, before turning to look at the clock. It was later than he'd expected—half past nine—but he supposed they'd been up late.
Helena was less nosy than Elizabeth had been. Like Harry, she was not very verbal during sexual activity, so she hadn't pestered him with personal questions. But he still knew little about her—perhaps she would be more forthcoming this morning.
She was still asleep, so he took the opportunity to visit the bathroom and brush his teeth. When he emerged, she had begun to stir and was in the middle of extending her arms very fetchingly.
'Hello there,' he said, running a hand through his hair.
She smiled. 'Good morning ... did you sleep well? I know I did.'
He climbed back in bed and said, 'Yes, I slept brilliantly. I'm full of energy in fact.' He tried pulling her on top of him but she resisted.
'Slow down, lover-boy ... I need the loo first.' She got out of bed, and he admired the view as she walked towards the en-suite. So many witches, he thought pleasurably. If this wasn't what we fought the war for, it should have been.
When she returned, they took full advantage of their renewed energy, and afterwards they lay in blissful silence.
She finally spoke. 'I suspect you're famous for the wrong thing.'
He understood her meaning, of course, but he wanted to hear her say it. 'And what should I be famous for?'
'I think you know,' she said, batting him playfully.
'Maybe I do,' he admitted. But you can't blame a bloke for asking.'
'I suppose not. So where's my breakfast? I understand you have a house-elf. Can he bring us something, or is he currently in his cage?'
'It was a cupboard. Should I call him here, or would you rather I order breakfast telepathically using the house-elf bond?'
She thought for a moment. 'I'm torn. On the one hand, I'll be impressed to see our breakfast arrive through the use of mind arts. On the other hand, I want to verify his well-being, in case I need to report you to the authorities.'
He chuckled and said, 'Here's another way to frame it: Do you want a centuries-old elf to see you in your present state, or would you like your breakfast to appear as if by magic?'
'You raise an excellent point. Let's have the seamless approach.'
'Very well. And what would you like to eat? I'm partial to a modified English breakfast, with more fruit and vegetables than the traditional version, and also some of Kreacher's homemade scones. But he can prepare just about anything you'd want.'
'What you described sounds fine. Lovely, in fact.'
'Done,' he said. 'Well, not yet actually. Give me a moment—I'm still new at this.' He closed his eyes. Kreacher! he thought.
Yes, Master!
Would you be so kind as to bring breakfast in bed, for me and a guest? The usual breakfast, including scones if you have them. And tea of course. But no pumpkin juice.
Yes, Master! Would Master like for Kreacher to deliver it personally or to send it up invisibly?
Invisibly, if you please, thought Harry. And thank you, that will be all. He felt Kreacher vanish from his mind with a pop.
'All right, that's sorted,' he said, opening his eyes.
'I'm very curious to see whether this works,' she replied. 'House-elves are rather foreign to me, to be honest.'
'You grow accustomed to them, just like anything else. I never imagined I'd have one, but here we are.'
'Yes, it sounds like your life is full of surprises,' she observed. 'First you're an Auror, and then a Seeker. Will you be Minister of Magic next?'
'Merlin, I hope not!'
'People have suggested it, you know. Not right away, of course, but when you're older.'
'No one who's met me, surely,' remarked Harry. 'But enough about me—what about you?'
'What about me?'
'How did you manage during the war?' asked Harry. 'You said your mother was Muggle-born.'
'Yes. We had to hide her, and my uncle as well. My father claimed she'd gone back to her family to live as a Muggle, but we actually kept her hidden in a trunk. A magical trunk, of course.'
'Really? For how long?'
'The better part of a year,' she said. 'Not the entire time, mind you. But we had wards that alerted us to visitors, and she'd Apparate into the trunk whenever there seemed to be a risk.'
'That sounds better than what most Muggle-borns went through,' he observed. 'It's a shame more trunks like that weren't available.'
'Actually we distributed a fair number of them,' she said. 'We couldn't provide top-of-the-line models like we had for my mother and uncle—they require too much labour—but we gave away dozens of basic models.'
'Remarkable,' said Harry. 'There are so many stories from the war I've never heard. It's a shame mine gets all the attention.'
'I daresay yours is more dramatic than most. Breaking into Gringotts and all.'
'It's funny how things change,' he said. 'I need to go there on business today, as if nothing had happened.'
'Your ban is over then?' she asked.
'Yes, as of two weeks ago.'
They were interrupted by the sound of a small gong, and several trays materialised over the bed. A small vase held a bouquet of dandelions and other weeds, presumably from the back garden. The effect was not impressive.
'I'm glad he's stopped nicking flowers from the corner shop,' said Harry. 'But those dandelions are a bit underwhelming.'
She smiled. 'It's a good effort. And the food looks marvellous.'
'It does,' he said. 'But I should really find a wizarding florist before he starts cutting down trees.'
They each filled their plates, and she reached for the rolled-up newspaper. 'Is that the Prophet? Let's have a look.'
A wordless panic seized him, but he was unable to stop her from unrolling it. The front headline read, 'Harry Potter, Aristocrat,' and there was a photograph of Harry looking remarkably posh in his new Cannons robes. The sub-headline said, 'Cannons Seeker Unmasked as Lord Black.' To his added horror, there was an inset colour illustration of the family ring, in stark contrast to the black and white photo.
She turned and looked at him appraisingly. 'Aren't you full of surprises!'
He sighed heavily and shook his head. 'It's complete bollocks.'
'So it's not true?'
He wished he could deny it. 'No, it's true,' he said, 'but it's completely meaningless. Wizarding lordships were awarded to the highest bidders when the Ministry was built in the 1700s. They're nothing like Muggle titles. I only found out a fortnight ago.'
Her eyes lit with mirth. 'I can't believe I'm in bed with an aristocrat.'
'I'm not an aristocrat!'
She glanced around and said, 'You realise you're not very convincing, seeing as we're eating breakfast in bed served on silver trays by your house-elf, in your enormous London townhouse.'
'Those aren't silver,' he said lamely. Mundungus Fletcher had stolen the silver ones.
'I stand corrected. But my point remains.'
Curse you, Sirius! he thought savagely. 'I was raised in the suburbs by Muggles, for Merlin's sake. My mother was Muggle-born. I could have cooked breakfast myself.'
She waved her hand dismissively. 'I've read my share of novels—all the best aristocrats have a humble upbringing. Are you wearing the ring now? I couldn't feel it on you, but I know there are charms to hide them.'
'Yes, I'm wearing it,' he said dully. 'But don't make me show it to you—it's ghastly.'
'All right, you've suffered enough for one morning.' She smiled and reached for a strawberry, which she popped into his mouth.
He relaxed a bit. 'I never wanted this to come out, you know. It was revealed yesterday before the match, when the referee inspected me for illegal enhancements.'
She was reading the article. 'Yes, that's what it says here. "According to an unnamed source."'
'It must have been one of the Falcons staff members. None of the Cannons would have ratted me out like that.'
'Oh dear. What other secrets are they hiding?'
'I think that's the only one,' he said. Surely the Snitchbottom nickname doesn't count. 'That and the bit about punishing Kreacher.'
She shook her head, still reading. 'No, that's not in here. Apparently cruelty to bonded servants isn't newsworthy.'
'It should be.' Oh blast, Hermione! He'd never replied to her Howler. It would have to wait, he supposed.
They ate silently for a while, occasionally feeding each other a piece of fruit or scone. She giggled and said, 'It's a shame we used a Contraception Charm. I could have borne your illegitimate heir.'
'I would have disavowed him in court,' he said coldly.
'So you're not going to marry me? I thought you were a gentleman.'
'Apparently not. My apologies for misleading you.' This is fun, he thought. A bit like taunting, but naked and with strawberries.
'You realise I'm ruined now. No decent wizard will have me.'
'I can provide a reference if you like.'
'Can you take care of that when you go to Gringotts today? I'll need it notarised.'
'Of course. I'll send it with my owl.'
'An owl? How common. Shouldn't you have a raven, or perhaps a swan?'
Or an albino peacock. 'You're right. No mere post-owl will do.'
'We'll have to upgrade your accent as well,' she continued. 'I believe there are tutors available.'
'Perfect. I'll get started straight away.'
She rose from the bed. 'I should really be going. I have a lunch engagement with a marquess, and it seems only proper to clean up first.'
He sat up and asked, 'Will I see you again?'
'I don't know. Will you?'
'It's not going to be more than a fling, I'm afraid. I'd certainly enjoy seeing you again, but I don't want to give you the wrong impression.'
'That makes sense. You don't strike me as the monogamous type.'
Thinking of Ginny, he wanted to protest. But he knew it was smarter to keep his mouth shut. 'Not at present, no.'
'You'll make an excellent roué, Lord Black.'
'What's a roué?' he asked. 'I dropped out of school, you know. And besides, they never taught French at Hogwarts.'
'It's what you are, my lord. A shameless seducer.'
Harry was simultaneously offended and intrigued. 'I'm not shameless,' he said, and she laughed.
Helena had pulled on her dress and was looking around the room. 'Where are my stockings?' she asked.
'In the drawing room.'
'Oh right. Toujours pur.'
He got out of bed and pulled on his dressing gown. 'I don't actually know your surname. How will I reach you?'
'It's Strauss, and your raven will find me. No Howlers please.'
They walked together to the drawing room, where he retrieved his trousers. She picked up her shoes and stockings without putting them on. As they left the room, he said, 'I should warn you, there's a vindictive portrait in the entrance hall. She was sleeping last night, but it's too much to hope she'll stay quiet this morning. She's truly horrid—she'll probably make disparaging comments about your mother. I'm hoping to finally get her removed this week.' At Helena's startled expression, he added, 'The portrait, not your mother.'
'All right. Let's go then,' she replied.
Walburga was indeed awake. 'The degenerate bounder returns, with his latest conquest! How dare you spread your disgusting seed!'
'We used a Contraception Charm,' replied Harry. 'No seed was spread.' He tapped her with his wand and she was silent.
'Wow, even the portraits are talking about you. It's a good thing I'm not angling to become the next Lady Black,' said Helena, as he led her to the formal reception hall.
'She was the last Lady Black, in case you're wondering.'
'Oh dear. Your life really is extraordinary.'
He put his hand on her waist and said, 'You're rather something as well. I'm glad I met you, and I'd like to see you again. At least for a while.'
'That sounds good. I'd promise to wear more sensible shoes next time, but I want another foot massage.'
'I'm sure that can be arranged. Expect my raven in a day or so.' He leaned in to kiss her one last time.
'Goodbye, Harry, and thanks. I had a lovely time, really.'
'So did I, Helena. See you again soon.'
She left through the fireplace, and he returned to his bedroom. He liked Helena—she'd been a lot of fun. And it was a relief she didn't have any false expectations.
'Kreacher!' he called.
Crack! 'Yes, Master!'
'Thank you for breakfast. That was perfect.'
'Kreacher is so pleased, Master! Shall Kreacher remove the trays?'
'Yes, please. And Kreacher, I've decided to host a large party in a fortnight. For more than a hundred guests, I think.'
'A twelve-course dinner party?'
'Merlin, no! Just starters, I think. But lots of them.'
'All right, Master,' said Kreacher, a little dolefully.
'And sweets,' added Harry. 'French pastries and so forth.'
'Thank you, Master!'
'Will you need assistance? I could ask if some of the Hogwarts house-elves are available.'
'Kreacher does not need assistance, but Kreacher would enjoy ordering other elves around. Master would be very kind to borrow the Hogwarts elves!'
'I'll ask Minerva,' said Harry. 'You may go now.'
Kreacher bowed and removed the trays before vanishing with a loud crack.
That's one item ticked off, thought Harry. Next on his list was a shower, and then replying to Hermione.
After he'd washed and dressed, he used his memory of catching the Snitch to raise his Patronus. 'Hermione, there's a perfectly good explanation. Kreacher is fine—happier than ever, actually. I can tell you more in person.'
He sent Prongs to deliver the message and then went down to the sitting room to read the rest of the Prophet. The Cannons match was the lead story in the sport news, with high praise for his performance. For the first time in his life, Harry felt an urge to save the article, but he dismissed the idea. There was no point in getting attached to whatever the Prophet had to say, considering all the times they'd slandered him.
'Are you there?' came Hermione's voice from the kitchen.
'Yes, in the sitting room.' He stood up and took a few steps towards her as she entered.
'Hi,' she said, looking a little sheepish. 'How are you? Did you enjoy your evening?'
'I did, thanks. Should we talk in here, or would you like something to eat? There may still be some scones.'
'Let's stay here,' she said, walking towards her usual armchair. 'So what happened with Kreacher?'
He explained, and she closed her eyes and nodded. 'I'm sorry I didn't have more faith in you. I hope the Howler didn't wake you up.'
'No, I was awake,' he said simply. 'And how was the rest of your day? Did you enjoy flying with Ryan?'
A smile crept over her features, and she almost glowed. 'Yes, it was brilliant. First we went flying at the Cannons training pitch. And then we listened to music at his flat for a while.' She closed her eyes and sighed contentedly. 'And then we went to a Japanese restaurant.'
'So you like him then?'
'Yes, very much. Thanks for introducing us.'
'Will you be seeing him again?'
'Tomorrow night.'
'I'm so glad,' he said. 'And for Ryan as well—I know how much he fancies you.'
She nodded, her eyes bright.
'Do you have big plans for today?' he asked.
'I'm going to see Bill and Professor McGonagall at Shell Cottage to discuss the Hogwarts problem.'
'Oh, good. Please say hi to everyone for me.'
'I will. And what are you up to this afternoon?'
'I need to go to Gringotts ... That reminds me, how did your meeting go on Friday?'
'It was a total calamity,' she said calmly. 'Apparently I looked particularly like Bellatrix that afternoon and they took it as a grave insult.'
'Oh no! Are you all right? What happened?'
'They kicked us out, but not before holding me at sword-point and threatening to disembowel me.'
'Are you joking?' asked Harry. 'Why aren't you more upset?'
'I was beside myself. But I'm fine now.'
'Well, that's something,' he said. 'What's your next step?'
'They want you to come and make amends on behalf of the Ministry.'
'Me? What for?'
'Apparently you impressed them by returning a goblin-made artefact. Ragnok said you're a better diplomat than I'll ever be.'
'There's a sentence I never expected to hear,' observed Harry. 'But certainly, let me know when.'
'I will, thanks. What do you need at Gringotts?'
'I've been persuaded to host a big party in a fortnight, on my birthday, and I want them to handle the wards.'
'Really?' she said. 'That's wonderful!'
Harry was surprised—he'd expected her to disapprove, or at least be worried about it. 'Yeah, we want to introduce people from Hogwarts to my teammates' friends from other schools.'
'What a great idea! I wonder if Ryan could provide the music—I'm certain he'd want to.'
'That sounds good, but how would that work? I assume you're talking about Muggle music and not just Weird Sisters records.'
She rolled her eyes. 'Definitely not the Weird Sisters. But you're right, we'd need to get around the electricity problem.' She thought for a moment. 'What about your roof? Do you think we could get a tape player and some speakers working up there?'
'I'm not sure,' he said. 'There's no outlet. But I'm visiting Diagon Alley this afternoon and can make enquiries. There's bound to be a solution.'
'Good thought. Anyway, I should leave now, and thanks again for introducing me to Ryan. He's ... lovely.'
Harry smiled. He'd never seen a lovesick Hermione before—she hadn't been this way with Ron. 'All right, we'll talk soon.'
'Sorry again about the Howler!'
'It was comical, if nothing else.' He walked her to the fireplace and she returned to her parents' house.
Not long after, Harry raised an ambulatory Notice-Me-Not Charm and travelled to Diagon Alley by way of the Leaky Cauldron. Nobody noticed him as he slipped from the fireplace and exited through the back alley. He tapped the appropriate brick with his wand and was soon standing before Gringotts.
He lowered his privacy wards before entering, not wanting to trigger their intruder sensors, and walked up to a clerk. 'Good afternoon,' he said. 'I'd like to speak to someone about adjusting the wards on my house for a special event.'
'Yes, Mr Potter,' said the clerk. 'Please wait here while I fetch one of our wards experts.'
After only a minute, the clerk returned with an older goblin who politely nodded to Harry. 'Please come with me, Mr Potter,' he said, leading him to a surprisingly large office. They sat down and he continued. 'My name is Tarnog, and I'm the Director in charge of wards and protections.'
'I'm honoured to meet you, Tarnog,' said Harry.
'Likewise, Mr Potter. What services do you require?'
'In a fortnight I'll be hosting a party for well over a hundred people, and I'd like to arrange transport and protections.'
'What kind of building is it, and what are the current protections?'
'It's my townhouse,' said Harry, 'and it's currently Unplottable and completely hidden from Muggles. I have two Floo connections, both of which require special authorisation for inbound use, but outbound use is unrestricted. I alone am able to Apparate in and out of the house, although I can bring someone by Side-Along, and I also have anti-Animagus wards.'
Tarnog, who had written everything down on a parchment, nodded approvingly. 'I assume Curse-Breaker Weasley helped you with this?'
'Yes, I wouldn't have known where to start. The house used to be under Fidelius, and Bill helped me transition it to something a bit more flexible.'
'And you'd like to enhance it for a special event. Can you provide a complete guest list?'
'Er, no,' said Harry. 'We're inviting people we know and allowing them to bring friends. It's an attempt to introduce a lot of new people to one another.'
'I see,' said Tarnog. 'That complicates things interestingly.' Harry took the 'interestingly' as a positive statement, probably because it would raise the cost. 'Do you wish to restrict the types of guests you admit? No marked Death Eaters, for example.'
'Definitely,' replied Harry.
'What about Dark creatures like werewolves and vampires?'
Harry always had mixed feelings when anyone denigrated werewolves. Greyback was certainly a monster, but Moony had been like family to him. 'It won't be the full moon that weekend, so I don't think it's necessary to exclude werewolves.'
Tarnog raised an eyebrow. 'And vampires?'
'Yes, probably better to exclude them,' replied Harry, before suddenly remembering Alistair. 'But would it be possible to include a specific vampire?'
'If you wish,' he said, making a note on his parchment.
Harry thought of another potential risk. 'Can we screen for people under the Imperius curse?'
'Unfortunately no,' said Tarnog. 'Gringotts shares that vulnerability, as you well know.'
I suppose we're speaking candidly, thought Harry. 'What about Polyjuice Potion?'
'Again, not without something resembling the Thief's Downfall. We could provide one, but the cost would be high.'
Harry shook his head. 'I'm less worried about the cost than the unfriendly welcome ... drenching guests with water seems like poor hospitality. I suppose we'll have to risk it when it comes to Polyjuice.' He had a dark thought and asked, 'Is there any way to protect against Love Potions?'
'We can't screen for the potions themselves, but for a price you can hire special goblets with detection charms. We can screen for other coercion draughts as well.'
Harry abhorred Love Potions, and not only because Tom Riddle had resulted from one. 'Yes, that's a requirement … And what about cameras? Can we prevent people from taking photographs?' He didn't want there to be a ten-page spread in the Prophet the next morning.
'Of course.' Tarnog made more notes on his parchment. 'I assume you'd like curse protections?'
'How do you mean?'
'In a confined space like a private home, it's possible to eject people for performing specific curses. Your Unforgivable Curses, for example.'
'Yes, please. I certainly don't expect anything like that to happen, but it's good to be safe. Please protect against other harmful curses as well—Confringo, Expulso, that sort of thing. Do you have a standard list?'
'Yes,' replied Tarnog, amending his notes. 'As for transport, you can retain Floo access for those who are already authorised, but otherwise I recommend portkeys. They can take the form of an invitation, and you can set a limit to how many people can hold onto it.'
Harry thought for a moment. 'So, for example, I could allow each person to bring one guest, and they'd use the invitation as a portkey?' Tarnog nodded. 'Would the portkeys be time-restricted?'
'If you like, but the preferred solution would be to use a passphrase. We can randomise the arrival locations so people don't land atop one another.'
'That sounds perfect,' said Harry, and Tarnog wrote everything down. 'There's another item. I'd like to use the rooftop for dancing, so we'll need to fortify the Silencing wards. The tricky bit is that the sound system will require electricity, which means the wards can't interfere with it. And to complicate matters, we don't have an electrical outlet up there, or anywhere else in the house.'
Tarnog smiled. 'This can be solved,' he said. 'For a cost.'
'Right,' replied Harry. 'Perhaps you can provide an itemised list so I can decide on everything at once.'
'Of course,' he said. 'Goblin technology, which is far superior to wizard magic, has devised a method for powering Muggle electrical devices in magical settings.'
'Really? That's remarkable. How would I get hold of something like that?'
'Select Gringotts clients are permitted to hire—not purchase—such an artefact. It would allow a Muggle sound system to function within wards for up to twelve hours.'
'That's amazing!' exclaimed Harry, before absorbing the bit about 'select Gringotts clients.' He looked at Tarnog soberly and asked, 'Would I be permitted to hire it?'
'Yes, Mr Potter. You have earned the respect of the Goblin Nation.'
Harry was taken aback. 'I'm pleased to hear it, thank you,' he said sincerely. 'I hope we can enjoy good relations from now on.'
Tarnog nodded. 'Will you require anything else for your event?'
'Clean-up, I suppose? In case one of the guests hides a spying device or similar.'
'That is already included,' said Tarnog. 'And prior to the event, your house will be cleared of compromising materials such as microscopic blood samples or loose hairs.'
'Good lord yes. I hadn't even considered that risk.' The last thing he needed was for someone to steal his hair for Polyjuice Potion. I get into enough trouble on my own, he thought.
'I believe we've covered everything,' said the goblin. 'Is there anything else you require?'
'No, I think that's it.'
'You will wait while I prepare an estimate of costs,' instructed Tarnog, who pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment and began writing. He took his time, which made Harry nervous. Just how much is this going to cost? He tried to decide on the maximum amount he was willing to pay.
Tarnog finished writing and turned the parchment towards Harry. 'I've estimated you'll need seventy-five portkeys, each of which can transport two people, and one hundred and fifty goblets. But I've noted the individual prices here, in case you wish to adjust the numbers,' he said, indicating a figure halfway down the parchment.
The total cost was roughly twenty percent higher than the amount Harry had decided was his upper limit. 'Yes, I believe that's acceptable,' he said resignedly.
'Excellent,' replied Tarnog. 'We'll prepare a contract for you within the hour, which you may return and sign. All we need is the address and date of the proposed event.'
Harry provided the particulars and agreed to return later to sign the contract. 'Thank you, Tarnog. I'm grateful to you and to Gringotts for your help.'
Tarnog nodded and rose from his chair, indicating that Harry should leave. Before exiting Gringotts he dug through his pouch for the business card Benedict Thimble had given him. The address appeared to be five minutes away, so Harry raised his Notice-Me-Not Charm and left the bank.
When he arrived, he removed the charm and peered through the window. The shop looked small from the outside, but that meant nothing in Diagon Alley. For all he knew, the interior could be as large as Harrods. As usual he paused to collect himself before interacting with strangers, and then he opened the door and entered.
An attractive young witch, perhaps a few years older than Harry, stood at the front counter. 'Good afternoon,' she said automatically before her eyes lit in recognition. 'How may I help you ... Lord Black?'
'Please don't call me that,' he said. 'It's a meaningless title and I have no intention of using it. My regular name is fine.' Noting how pretty she was, he added, 'Call me Harry.'
She smiled becomingly and said, 'Then you must call me Althea. How may I help you, Harry?'
'I suppose I'm looking for some new clothes. I was impressed by the tailoring on my new Quidditch robes, so I thought I'd stop in and see what you have for general wear.'
'I'll be glad to show you some options,' she said, 'and of course you have a team discount. Do you have a specific occasion in mind, or are you looking to upgrade your wardrobe in general.'
'The latter. I've never put much thought into what I wear, but I've started going out more and feel I should make an effort.'
'I wish more men would do that,' she said. 'It would certainly be more decorative. Do you prefer Muggle or wizarding styles?'
'Until now I've preferred Muggle styles, but I'm beginning to reconsider—I quite like the styling on my team robes. All the other robes I've worn have been tents by comparison.'
'Yes, it's unfortunate that school robes are so unflattering—and Auror robes as well.' Her eyes raked him and she added, 'I think there's nothing more attractive than a fit wizard wearing well-cut robes.'
He allowed himself to enjoy the compliment and said, 'But I'm interested in Muggle clothing as well. It's certainly more versatile.'
'It is,' she agreed. 'But speaking personally, I hope you'll inspire a new trend towards wizarding dress. It's taken a real beating lately with all the Death Eater connotations.'
'I've never made the connection before, but you're right. The nicest robes I ever saw were worn by someone who's currently in Azkaban,' he said, recalling Lucius Malfoy.
'Let's see if we can't make you something even nicer,' said Althea, leading him to a wide display of robes. The store was, in fact, rather larger than it appeared from the outside. She began pulling robes from the rack and said, 'We'll have you try on a wide variety, and then I'll use charms to approximate what the bespoke version would look like. We still have all your measurements on file, of course.'
Harry tried on multiple styles and, truth be told, he liked nearly all of them. He and Althea both rejected the same set of robes, which were decidedly too stodgy, but the others looked very smart indeed.
'What about colours?' she asked. 'Please don't disappoint me by wearing only black and charcoal.'
Harry was at that moment wearing charcoal robes with green trim. 'But I like these,' he protested. 'And they don't look at all like Slytherin robes.'
'No, you definitely need those. But I'd love to see you in ivory as well.'
He frowned. 'That sounds impractical,' he said, recalling a white carpet Aunt Petunia had repeatedly made him clean by hand.
'Not at all,' she replied. 'It's charmed against stains, and if the charms wear out and you do get a stain, just bring the garment back and we'll fix it free of charge.'
'Fair enough,' he said, and she brought out a number of lighter coloured robes, which he tried on as well.
Althea appraised him in a set of dove grey robes. 'These really demand a floral waistcoat. Silver, with rosebuds and foliage.'
'This is starting to sound a bit foppish,' said Harry. 'Remember I get taunted by my teammates all week, and by rival Seekers at the weekend.'
'Nonsense—the waistcoat is mostly hidden anyway, so I'm certain rival Seekers won't see it. It's the witches who will notice, and I promise they won't laugh. Quite the opposite, in fact. Women admire a man with the confidence to wear that sort of thing.'
They had amassed a pile of robes before she led him to the Muggle section of the shop. 'Personally I think men's trousers are where Muggle fashions shine, since they're not hidden under robes. And you've just the physique to look good in them—classic Seeker's build.'
Harry knew she was flattering him, but he didn't mind. They were the only people in the shop and he was enjoying himself. And it would probably be years before he'd drag himself clothes shopping again, so he might as well get it all done at once.
In the end, Althea had outfitted him with robes, shirts, trousers, neckties and other accessories, new undergarments, several jumpers, a woollen cloak for winter, and a Muggle coat as well. She also gave him the name of a shoemaker she trusted. The total cost was staggering—considerably more than the price he'd been quoted at Gringotts—but unlike the goblin wards and portkeys he'd get more than one night's use from it.
'When will everything be ready?' he asked.
'That all depends. If you want to pick things up as we produce them, you'll have your first items in a couple of days. But if you'd rather collect it all at once, it'll be several weeks at least.'
'Can I send my house-elf at regular intervals? It's no trouble for him—he'll be glad for something to do.'
'Yes, of course. Just send him around every evening at six o'clock starting on Tuesday and we'll have something for him.'
'Excellent,' said Harry.
Althea asked, 'Do you have any preference about which item we make first?'
He thought a moment and said, 'The ivory robes, I think.'
'Perfect,' she said. 'I predict you'll have a lovely night out in them. But make sure you have shoes to match—you should probably order those from the shoemaker straight away.'
'Good suggestion. What colour do you recommend?'
'You could go with a light tan, or perhaps some brown and white wingtips for a bit of Muggle flair. But promise me you won't let them talk you into a raised heel.'
'Oh?' He'd often wished he were taller but it had never occurred to him to wear a heeled shoe.
'Nobody expects a Seeker to be tall, so you'll just look like you're overcompensating. And personally, I think tall men are overrated. I'm the same height as you, and I consider a man your size to be a perfect fit.'
'That's good to hear.' In a deeper voice he added, 'Would you care to join me for dinner some evening? I'll wear the floral waistcoat if you ask nicely.'
She smiled and said, 'That's very sweet, but I'm married. Thank you, though.'
'Oh, I apologise. You aren't wearing a ring, so I assumed ...'
'You're not the only one concealing a ring. Shopgirl's first rule, you know. But don't worry, I didn't steer you wrong.'
'That's a relief,' he said cheerfully. 'And thanks again for all your help—I'd have been lost otherwise.'
He went directly to the shoemaker, who was only a few doors down, and ordered shoes to match the ivory robes. They had a variety of styles and he resolved to return when he had more time. He also stopped at a florist's shop and opened an account. 'Yes, we're accustomed to working with house-elves,' the clerk told him. 'We'll just scan his magical signature, and then he can help himself.'
'Excellent. I'm glad his days of petty larceny are over.'
His final stop before returning to Gringotts was at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, to tell Lee and George that the party was on. 'Thanks for referring me to the goblins—you were right about them being able to handle the transport and wards. But don't spread the word beyond Katie, Angelina, and Alicia. I'll need to figure out numbers first.'
'Not a problem,' said George. 'How was the rest of your evening, by the way?'
Harry smiled. 'I've no complaints. And yours?'
'Promising,' he said. 'I don't work quite as fast as you do, but I'll be seeing Rebecca again in a couple of nights.'
Harry was pleased that George was having some fun. In fact, it was astonishing how many of his friends had met someone new as a result of Harry joining the Cannons. Hermione in particular—she'd been miserable just a few days prior but seemed head over heels that morning.
Poor Dudley, he thought with amusement. He never even had a chance.