𝗷𝗮𝗻𝗲, harry potter

˗ˋ 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
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-: fourth year :-

── IN WHICH HE MEETS FLORA

. . .

"Jane's just out in the garden, one of the gardener's cats had kittens and they brought a couple up for her to play with. Follow me, Angela has your breakfast in the kitchen and you can get to the garden from there." Flora closed the door behind him, and Harry glanced around the entrace hall; a warm sort of room with coats hanging off pegs, an ornate mirror above an old chest of drawers, photos upon photos lining the walls and plants spilling out into the walkway.

"You must be rather suspcious of me.  I understand why - I suppose you've had enough of old bags like myself tearing you apart in the Daily Prophet." Flora mused, eyes travelling over the curls of dark hair that littered his forehead, and as if he was confirming something for her, Harry pulled a hand through them and revealed the scar.

"I am.. rather suspicious of you." Harry nodded, agreeing to her words. "But I don't think anyone with anything horrible in mind would take in a child. Let alone someone like Jane."

"She does exude a natural kindness, doesn't she." Flora stopped at the end of the corridor, various arches stuck into the wall and lead through to various rooms. "Harry, I want you to trust me. If I wanted to harm you at all, I could've done since the very day you met her. I was rather shocked to hear the name Harry Potter coming out of her lips, but it did. And - although this may not be much consolation - I am friends with Dumbledore."

"Oh - brilliant." Harry forced a smile on his face. "And.. that was a phoenix on your door knocker, wasn't it?"

"Minerva did mention you had rather good instincts towards these things last time I heard from her." Flora nodded absentmindedly, continuing on and leading Harry through one of the archways and into the one the most beautiful kitchen he had ever seen.

Sage green walls stretched upwards, terracota tiles patterning the walls. A small dining table sat in a lower section of the room, and Harry didn't doubt that there was a much larger room desginated for just that in one of the many rooms of the large house. The cabinets matched the walls, the pretty green giving it such a magical style, and Harry truly felt as if he was in a magical household when he saw the dishes washing themselves,

"Jane.. she doesn't know about magic, does she?" Harry asked, as Flora guided him to a seat by the counter, the other woman in the kitchen - presumably Angela from his recounts of what Jane had told him - placing a plate under his nose.

"Jane told me you liked ketchup?" Angela asked. "Would that be correct?" Harry nodded, and from across the room, a ketchup bottle floated over the gap and the top slice of bread on Harry's bacon sandwiche moved off and the ketchup added itself, replacing the slice accordingly.

"No, she doesn't." Flora confirmed, taking a sip of a pink coloured tea from a decorative teacup, that had moving frogs dancing across the porcelain surface. She placed the teacup down, waving her hand over it and the frogs stopped moving. "She has no idea that I am a witch, and so is Angela. We've been friends for years. She is the only person who technically works for me that is a witch though." Florence shrugged.

"I've been wondering whether it is safe to tell her, I know she would believe it without a doubt and could easily keep it a secret, but I've decided to wait a bit." There was the sound of footsteps, and with another wave of Flora's hands, the plates dropped into the water below them, the ketchup stopped floating and the kitchen seemed very still for a moment.

Then, moments later, a man trudged through into the kitchen from another corridor - it seemed rather thin when Harry peered through it, and when he gaze reached the end, it clearly opened up to the outside.

"Jerry!" He was brought back to the kitchen by Flora's exclamation. "How many times have I asked you to remove your boots before coming inside - no, don't mind it I can clear it up. This here is Harry." The woman paused, and Harry reached forward and shook the hand the man offered. "He's the boy who Jane made friends with." Flora added in a hiss and a wink, and the man practically beamed.

"Lovely girl that one - make sure she doesn't hurt herself, son." Jerry nodded down at Harry. "The Little Miss is up in the top corner of the garden, decided it would be the best place for the kittens to play - apparently it has the best sunlight to shade ratio."

"Clever girl. You can see how everyone has become rather taken with her." Flora nodded, waiting until Jerry plodded onwards before pulling out her wand and waving it twice, the mud that Jerry had trekked into the house. "Jerry's one of the gardners - the one that brought the kittens actually. Now, quickly eat that up and I'll take you up to her."

"Thank you." Harry nodded, and as he ate, he noticied Flora examining him just as Jane had done when they first met. And when he finished that bacon sandwich, Angela wordlessly pushed another one in front of him.

Somehow, the woman had managed to figure out his situation, simply by looking at him. In all honest, Harry knew it wasn't hard to. From the way his cheekbones were beginning to look hollow and the old clothes from Dudley hung off his frame loosely, he could understand the concern.

But just from that action alone, Harry knew that Flora was quite possibly the best person to have taken Jane in. There was a similarity that laid there, the difference only seeming to be the magic.

And Harry was happy that Jane had gotten her, over anyone else. She deserved that much.

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