Standard Disclaimer: I own none of the Harry Potter Characters featured in this story, expect the ones I create.
The Aftermath in Apartment Complexes
By: Santiva Potter
Summary: While physically the war with Voldemort is over, for a group of friends, mentally it is far from over. With seven years in the past the Ministry is still looking for war criminals and the broken relationships between Harry and Ginny, Ron and Hermione, Susan Bones and Blaise Zabini and Lavender and herself have thrown all of them and their friends into a mental rollercoaster filled with many twist and turns to defeat the most strongest. But will they overcome their troubles and fears or will they leave each other behind? Various pairings.
POV's change for each chapter.
Author's Note- it has defaintly been a while. Sorry about that. School been rather hetic and there was Band Camp for two weeks. Anyway Chapter 8 this time in Blaise's POV. I think Harry is next, I'm going to check (I try to keep a cycle.) Teaser is at the bottom.
Chapter 8- Do you Speak English?
I left Kingsley's office with a smirk that I didn't expect.
It had been a while since I've "dazzled" Susan Bones. In fact it's been a while since I've spoken to her. After the war we got off on such bad terms and she was in no mood to hear my plea. Not that I blame her. Anyone would have been furious. Leaving the way I did, but some things had to be done. And there's no changing the past now.
I dragged myself into the interview cellar where a orange file sat waiting for me. I opened it up and read the information of a man named Jules Laurent. Born and Raised in Orgeval, France. According to the file he was divorced and had two kids, Yves Laurent and Marianne Lauren-Morel. He also had four grandchildren, three by Yves and one by Marianne. Skipping the rest of the family information I read to see why I was interviewing him. He was the was owner of La dame de la Mer. It was Nott's favorite bar. I didn't need the file to tell me that.
"Who the hell names their bar that?" I asked over the phone.
Nott laughed followed by a terrible cough. "I don't know man. But it's got the best whiskey in town."
"Well you live in the forest, Nott it's probably the only whiskey in town." I retorted with a smirk.
Another rough cough came from Nott before he responded. "Shut it Zabini. Milly happens to like the place. It's not that bad and it ain't like our friends are roaming all over the place like in Paris."
"Look I don't want to hear your pet names for Millicent. But yes, you do have a point."
"Why don't you move out here? The women aren't that bad. Loads of privacy, freedom and beer. I don't what you else you could ask for, Zabini."
I chuckled. "I'll put a thought on it Nott."
"What's there to think about?"
"Try this—I hate France."
That was one of the last conversations I had with Nott. The steal doors opened from behind me and two Aurors escorted Jules Laurent. They quickly left me with Mr. Laurent. Harry had once told me that when interviewing with foreign person, its best to address them in their native language then ask them if they spoke English.
"Mr. Laurent." I acknowledged in the little French that I knew. I earlier had my secretary Jess, who was a native Frenchman, to teach me a little of her language. "My name is Zabini. Blaise Zabini. I have a couple of questions for you concerning Mr. Nott. The two of you were friends?"
"Oui," he responded.
"Vous faire parle l'Ange?" I asked. I think I said 'Do you speak English' correctly. But the confused look this man was giving me answer to my question; No.
"Est l'Ange une langue?" He replied. Obviously this man thought I spoke French. I let out a frustrated sigh. How was I to talk to this man if I had no interrupter? I could go find one but Kingsley is letting everyone off earlier today so I assume that he's already gone.
Then the Jules clapped loudly and wore an expression as if he had come of with a genius idea. He instantly snatched the file and pen I had been holding and began writing. I stood up and frowned. It was defiantly time to see if the interrupter was still here.
"I will be right back." I snapped and left the cellar locking the man in. I doubt he noticed.
As I walked to Jim Stephen's office, the Slytherin interrupter, my mind wondered back to Susan. Even with the several years working in the same field, we had still not spoken. What would Susan say if it was Ron who asked me to join Voldemort so that they could have a spy?
"So basically you want me to be another Snape? You trust me that much Weasley? How do you know that I won't kill you or Potter or any of your other little friends like Severus did to Dumbledore?" I sneered. I wasn't serious. I had no intentions on killing anyone. But the thought still remained what if I did? Voldemort's powers were beyond anyone elses. I had no idea what he was truly capable of. "What do you think is the difference between me and Snape?"
"Snape wasn't in love with Susannah Bones." Came the reply.
And so started eighteen months of pure hell. Breaking up with Susan was my idea. It would be easier to accomplish what I needed to. But a small voice crept in my head reminding me that I should have told her. About everything. It was my mistake and I guess this is my karma biting me in the ass.
Only to myself would I admit how much I missed Susan. How much her scent affects me. How her words are like music and her skin silk. How much I wanted her, how much I needed her. I remember Ron's pleas for me to explain myself to Susan. However I was a man of privacy and maybe it was for the best; whether I like it or not, Susan Bones had a great effect on me.
I shook those thoughts of my head as I arrived at Stephen's office. I knocked and no one answered. I grabbed the door handle trying to open the door. Locked. He was defiantly gone.
Sighing in more frustration. I dragged back to the interrogation cellar. I'd have to reschedule this. But how do I tell Jules that?
As I walked back into the cellar, Jules stood up and said, "Bonne nuit, Zabini de Monsieur," and took his leave.
Lucky me, I knew what he said that time and I didn't need to know French either. He was leaving. He slipped through the metal doors right before they closed again. Giving up I almost left the folder that he had been writing on. Picking it up I saw that he had been writing all over the folder and on the empty back of report papers. When I find that French asshole! How the hell was I going to translate this!
Taking my leave, I took the folder with me and apparated to the apartment I owned, not wanting to bother with my mother who was at the Zabini Mansion. In the apartment there were a lot of muggle things, like a stove, microwave, television, computer….
I glanced at the computer woke it from sleep mode. My screen was filled with pop-ups and one of them had the words Online translator.
Damn the Laurent guy is good.
After thirty minutes, using the computer I was able to translate his whole letter.
Dear Mister Interrogator Sir,
My name is Jules Laurent. I am sixty-three years old and I own the La dame de la Mer pub. It means Lady of the Sea. I was a captain for many years before returning back to my fatherland of France. I remember rather well when Mr. Theodore Nott came into my pub with Ms. Millicent. That what everyone referred her as. Ms. Millicent. It was that or you said nothing to her at all. But everyone always had something to say and Nott became quite the fighter, making many enemies fast. I often had to kick out Mr. Nott because sometimes the foulness of others was more than he could handle. I know perfectly well of his history as a death eater. He has told me several stories, some about you I think. I can't remember, my memory tends to fail me. But other than the defending Millicent, Nott was rather relaxed and most enjoyed his company. Millicent was rather quiet. She never said too much. Nott used to say that she's scared that someone is still looking for them. Being so close to Paris, a big city where many Death Eaters could easily hide in, scared her. Shortly before his death, Nott told me that they were moving. I was the only one who knew that. And I was the only one to know about the baby. Nott was ecstatic. That was the main reason he wanted to leave. He wanted to raise his son in peace. He was so damn certain it was a boy. I wanted it to be a girl just so I could rub it in his face. Those where good times. Nothing too out of the norm happened around the pub. Expect this one time. It was many years ago. Nott and Millicent had been in the area for about six months, maybe, when this strange man came around asking for Nott. Well he looked like a man, sort of. Half his face was covered with hair and the other half with deep purple scars. His voice sounded scratchy and maybe robotic to some point. I told Nott this and that's when he told me about his past. He had Millicent stay at my home for six weeks, while he was away. After that nothing else happened. The bar kept standing for three more glorious years. That is until just recently. My bar, my love, La dame de la Mer was burnt to the ground. All that was stolen were the security tapes from the back room. However in France the violence in bars had increased. So for the past eighteen months security cameras from the government where posted in bar nation wide. I've asked countless times for a copy of the recording but they're very hush hush, up there. I think it might have something to do with Mr. Nott. But I have no idea.
I think I have answered you're question. But I only two for you.
Firstly, what language is of the Language of Angel? And how did you learn it?
Secondly, I do not understand why you left. You are a British auror. Do you not speak English? Because I do!
I put the English version of the letter in a new vanilla folder and took it with me to bed. Everything was packed for the funeral tomorrow and I was sure to see the man Mr. Laurent there. I was wondering whether the service would be in French or English when I thought back to the letter. Opening the folder back up I re-read the letter.
Damn Jules Laurent, he spoke English.
1. Oui- means yes in French
2.Vous faire parle l'Ange- means 'Do you speak Angel'. What Blaise meant to say was 'Vous faire parle l'anglais' which is 'Do you speak English'.
3. Est l'Ange une langue- means 'Is Angel a language.'
4. Bonne nuit, Zabini de Monsieur- means Good Night Mister Zabini
As in return of my tardiness...a small teaser. It's Harry and Ginny fighting in Ron's POV. They're at Kings Cross.
"Ginny you're going to have to stop bull-shitting. It's getting annoying."
"Ha! Not like that tramp you've got on your arm! 'Oh I'm going to be Mrs. Harry Potter with all the lovely riches in the world.' Please!"
"Well she's a hell of a better girl than you Ginvera!Her love is actually permanent."
Ginny's hand drew back and before I could blink there was something more permanent than Harry's scar on the side of his face.
"Well now you can have my love permanently on the side of your face!" Ginny snapped and disappeared out of the Platform.
"Remember when I wanted peace," I said slowly glaring slightly at Harry. "This is why. If I wanted to watch my baby sister and my best friend argue about their past relationship I would have actually stayed for dinner. Susan was right."
"In that meaning what?" Harry snapped rubbing the red mark where Ginny slapped him.
"You really should consider calling off the wedding. Calling off the relationship in a whole. You really did never stop loving her. And it would help with my sleeping y'know."
Harry snorted on his way out. "I wish you had the same attitude for Hermione. It would help with my sleeping."
I decided that I ought to give him some of my personal love too. Right on the back of his head. Maybe that will help with his sleeping.
Well that basically it. If you ask about the teaser, just know that the answer is going to be in the next chapter. Which is in Ron's POV. I'll try and have it out asap. Hopefully before Labor Day. As always thanks for reading and reviewing!