Chapitre 42: Chapter 42
A short conversation with a bemused group of villagers sent them to another village some two hours walk down the river. They climbed over huge tree roots, cut through dense undergrowth, and, occasionally, Harry flew her over boggy mud-banks, much to her secret delight.
Eventually, tired, soaked, and high on endorphins, they stood in front of a small, dilapidated, wood-built shop. Birds sung in cages hung around the entrance. Lizards and spiders sat in boxes made from the lithe, green growth of bushes and trees. She drank in the new sights and sounds like a Gringotts prisoner might drink in the sky.
Harry's eyes gleamed when he spotted a medium sized snake in a large see through box by the door. He crouched down, and a series of hisses were exchanged between them. Eventually he stood up. "Yep, this is what we're looking for."
"You know, that wasn't any less creepy than when I first saw you do it."
Harry just grinned, took her hand, and led her into the dark interior of the shop.
A short, tanned, middle-aged man sat on a low stool in a corner smoking something foul. She wrinkled her nose.
Harry dove straight in, chatting with the man in a tongue she didn't recognise. It may as well have been parseltongue for all she was able to understand it. Harry laughed a few times. The man looked at her.
"You have very beautiful wife."
She blushed.
Harry chuckled. "Yes. She is the snowdrop of England."
Kuh. An elegant flower that opens just as the snow and ice starts melting. She blushed harder. Damn ageing potions.
Eventually, the man stood, and left the shop by the back door.
She looked towards Harry, not quite meeting his eye. "Does he have what we're looking for?"
"Sounds like it."
They waited in silence. Harry wandered around looking into cages and boxes, occasionally chatting with a snake. It was weird the way they'd all perk up when he passed by.
The man walked back in, ferrying the cutest thing she'd ever seen on his shoulder. She cooed and clapped her hands, all thoughts of embarrassing flower metaphors forgotten.
Its fur was black, its tail long, and its small face was framed with two large tuffs of white where its ears would be. The small monkey-like animal gripped the man's shirt with tiny human-like hands, and pivoted its head with quick, sudden turns.
Her eyes shone staring at the endearing fluff-ball.
"The common marmoset," Harry said, by way of confirmation. "New world monkey species, generally grows to a maximum size of twenty to thirty centimetres in length. Very intelligent, very social. Weighs around 250 grams."
"He's adorable." Daphne made to touch the small creature, which backed off, seemingly uncertain, before leaping to her shoulder and trying to climb into the front of her shirt. "Gah!"
"She, actually. And a good thing too, or I'd have to have some serious words with it." Harry glared at the animal trying to burrow its way into her chest.
She giggled, and fed it a piece of fruit the man had offered her.
Harry handed him some muggle money. "Any idea what you're going to call her?"
She turned to regard the inquisitive animal now clutched to her shoulder, playing with her long, blonde hair. The small monkey was a gift from Harry. Not the first to be sure, but she was definitely the cutest.
The idea of having a marmoset for a pet, rather than the more traditional cat, meant something to her. A powerful statement that said, 'I'm not going to do things the traditional way. I'm free to explore and travel, and damn society's yardstick. Harry is my yardstick'.
She turned back to Harry. "How about Free-key?"
Harry's expression blanked for several seconds, before slowly spreading into a broad grin. "Perfect."
Harry crouched at the edge of the Potter Manor wards, under a three-by-three metre fidelius charm. His breath was calm, his clothes dark, and his eyes alert. Daphne crouched opposite. Her breath was short, her clothes muggle, and her eyes nervous. Freekey sat on her shoulder.
"You ready, Daph?"
Daphne nodded.
He raised his wand, and pointed it at Freekey. "Imperio." The strange sensation of being in two places at once flooded his mind. The imperius curse took a lot of practise, not because the spell casting was difficult, but because learning to control two entities at the same time—to see through two sets of eyes, distinguish two sets of smells, and two sets of balance—was not easy.
He, as Freekey-Harry, leapt to his human shoulder, and gave the pretty blonde a miniature thumbs up.
Daphne reached into a pocket, drew out a bright yellow potion vial, popped the top, and offered it to him. He grabbed the vial with tiny hands and drank, feeling power flood his system as the strengthening solution took hold.
He, as Human-Harry, disillusioned Freekey-Harry, and settled down on the ground, the better to focus on his monkey half. He jumped to the ground, glanced once towards Daphne, and marched on all fours to the ward line. This was the moment of truth. He'd sensed the wards to the best of his abilities, and he was sure they didn't include a ward that could stop non-magical animals, but there was always a danger. He reached a tiny hand over the wards and tensed. Nothing. He stepped over the line, all the while waiting for the throw back. Still nothing.
A few moments later he was through. He gave a little monkey smirk.
"Did it work?"
"Yes," said Human-Harry
The grounds of Potter Manor lay before him, open and inviting. He slunk through gardens and vegetable patches, across gravel paths and patios, and eventually found a drainpipe fixed to the manor wall. Freekey was a natural climber, and the strengthening solution made it all the more easy. In just a couple of minutes of careful clambering, he was on the roof, a mirror of the background, shifting unseen across the night sky.
"Where are you now?"
"The roof, heading towards the chimney. No problems so far."
He found the red and white smoke stack, and started to climb. His tiny fingers easily found their way into the concave curves of cement between the bricks. He reached the top, tipped over the edge, and started down. He felt his tail come to rest on something.
"Damn."
"What?" Daphne was holding her breath.
"There's a grate blocking the chimney floo. Looks too small for me to fit through. I'm going to have to use the owlery."
He climbed out of the chimney, and padded over to the wall he suspected held the owlery. He peeked over the edge, and his nostrils filled with bird.
"Found it."
He shimmied down the wall and swung into the small open window to the owlery. Despite the late hour, two owls were asleep on their perches—a tawny, and a greater sooty. One owl that was definitely not yet here was a snowy. His eyes flashed hunger. There was another girl he needed to nab. One that would surely drive his brother spare.
He crept through the owlery, knowing that if the large birds-of-prey awoke—with their highly developed sight, and razor sharp talons—they'd probably be able to spot the shifting background gliding through their territory. He cringed to think of Daphne's reaction should he get Freekey injured or killed.
Harry reached the door, looked up, and inspected the handle. It was a lever, not a knob, thank Merlin. He leapt above the handle, grasped it with both hands, planted his little feet above him, and pushed down, forcing the door open with a faint *click*.
The owls didn't stir.
He jumped down, leapt through the gap, and closed the door just enough to eliminate the gap.
"I'm in."
Daphne took in a deep calming lungful before letting it out again.
The corridors of Potter Manor were wide and dark. There were many doors. He tried nearly ten, all leading to empty or otherwise boring rooms. Then, he opened one that led into a storage room. Boxes were everywhere. He spied a thin, wooden box buried under several larger boxes, and his little monkey eyes widened in glee. There, on the side of the box, was a triangle, containing a circle, with a line through the middle.
"Found it."
Daphne sat a little straighter. "You have it?"
"Not quite, it's under a few heavy boxes, but I think…."
He wedged himself between the boxes and the wall and pushed with all his potion-improved power. The strengthening solution increased his strength by several times—a quirk of his tiny size—but Freekey was still a small primate, and it was tough. The boxes tittered. The boxes fell. A solid thump vibrated through the walls. Hopefully the size of the manor would stop that being heard. Bedrooms were often silenced from the rest of the house for obvious reasons.
"Got it. It's in a box."
The box was locked and warded. He had no chance of opening it with a body that lacked magic of its own. Gripping the sides of the box, he dragged it across the floor, through the door, and across the manor. He reached the door of the owlery before he realised he had a problem.
"Damn it."
"What?"
"Even with the potion, I won't have the strength to pull the box up to the owlery window."
"Can't you open the box?"
"No. Not without magic. It has wards, and I don't have the strength to break… no… wait. Yes! Great idea, Daph!"
"Wha?"
"One moment."
He dragged the box to the ballroom landing, overlooking the Potter Manor ballroom… from three stories up.
"Here goes nothing."
He tipped the box on its side, pushed it through a banister, and watched it hit the marble ballroom-floor with a loud crash. Splinters went everywhere and a cloak of liquid cloth spilled out. He tore down the spiral staircase, dashed for the cloak, and threw it over his small body, just as a pair of house elves popped into being only a few metres from where he stood, hidden, even from the gaze of death himself. The elves stared at the wreckage, and started a rapid and heated discussion. He edged away, and made a bolt for the stairs.
"Damn. That was close. I have the cloak, but was almost rumbled by a pair of house elves."
Daphne gasped.
"Get ready to leave. The area's going to get hot."
He jogged and hopped, trying to keep the oversized cloak from tangling around his miniature form. The Potter patriarch ran past in a bathrobe, heading down the hallway he was heading up. Oh how he wished he could land an unseen stinging hex.
"Homenum revelio!"
Smirk. Hah. Not this time, dickhead.
He dashed through the owlery, leapt the window, and swung down the outside of the building. Lights were coming on throughout the manor. Shouts could be heard.
He fled across the grounds, and reached the outside of the manor wards. Daphne was already half way into his trunk. He leapt to her shoulder, flung the cloak to his human self, and cancelled the imperius curse on Freekey.
"Let's move it!"
Daphne gave a sharp nod, Freekey gave a chirp, and both girl and monkey vanished into the trunk.
He slammed the trunk shut, shrunk it, shoved it into his pocket, set the fidelius runestones to self-destruct in ninety seconds, donned the cloak, crouched to the ground, and shot into the sky, accelerating from zero to sixty miles-an-hour in seconds, reached a mile up, and disapparated. The resulting *crack!* could not have sounded more satisfying.
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État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone