Heart and Soull

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In the interim of Jean-Sebastian's thoughts, silence had stretched on in the room, a silence which had clearly become uncomfortable for the couple sitting opposite, although their son did not seem to mind—he was openly gazing at his cousin, as though he had never truly seen him before. It was petty, but Jean-Sebastian took a perverse amount of pleasure in their unease, allowing the silence to continue as he merely gazed at the couple, his contempt showing in his expression which was tinged with distaste.

"Should you not be thanking your nephew for his actions?" he queried at last. "If not for Harry's actions, your son would have been killed by those Dementors."

"And if he wasn't here, your freaky creatures would never have been here either," Mr. Dursley snarled in response. "He's been nothing but trouble since he showed up, and we're well rid of him."

"He did save me, dad," Dudley spoke up suddenly.

From the looks Dudley received from not only his father and mother but also Harry, Jean-Sebastian deduced that Dudley backing Harry up was an uncommon, if not unheard of, event. The young man, however, ignored the looks he was receiving from his parents and kept his gaze focused on Harry, an earnest and almost pleading expression on his features. Harry returned his gaze with a questioning one of his own, before finally relaxing and slumping slightly in his seat with a half smile on his face.

"Don't worry about it, Dud. It was no problem."

Mr. Dursley's snort met Harry's statement, but Harry ignored it, seeming to be relieved and somewhat happier over the situation. Jean-Sebastian strongly suspected he was happy to have finally received some measure of approbation from at least one of his relatives, even if it had been bought at the price of a life-threatening situation.

"Mr. Dursley, I fully understand you would like us to leave, so I'll get right to the point. I am not impressed with what I've seen here today and what I've heard about Harry's home life—you clearly know nothing about nurturing a young man properly, and if I didn't consider you to be worth nothing more than an ant to crush beneath my boots, I might take offense to the things you have said today."

Mrs. Dursley paled, while her husband's face purpled in anger, but Jean-Sebastian ignored them. "Be that as it may, I am happy to say that Harry will never have to suffer your presence again. I will certainly never allow him to return here, and I cannot imagine him ever wanting to return once he comes of age."

A single glance at Harry, showing the boy's slightly anxious expression and furtive glances in the direction of the front door, told him what he already knew—Harry would undoubtedly be quite happy to never return to his relatives' house again.

"But be that as it may, I felt it only prudent to advise you of the change in Harry's status and the fact that he will not be returning. He is now betrothed to my daughter and will be my ward until his guardian is once again fit to resume his duties. Therefore, he will not be requiring your hospitality any longer."

"Once a freak, always a freak," Mr. Dursley responded with a sneer. "Imagine! Magic and betrothals! It's all freakiness, I tell you!"

His beady eyes fixed on Harry, and an unpleasant leer came over his face. "So, you had to go and get someone else to get you a betrothal to get yourself a girl, did you, boy? Couldn't get a girl on your own with your freakiness? I bet she's short and warty—a true witch!"

Mr. Dursley's laugh grated on Jean-Sebastian's nerves, but he said nothing, merely removing a Muggle-style picture from his wallet and enlarging it until it was the size of a large painting. "This is my daughter, Fleur, who is now engaged to Harry. I don't think she has any warts, to the best of my knowledge. However, she may turn you into a toad if you were to suggest such a thing to her face, so I suggest you keep your opinions firmly to yourself."

The mouths of all three Dursleys dropped as they gazed at the picture of his daughter, causing Jean-Sebastian to chuckle in response—as a father, he was proud of his daughters' beauty and Veela heritage, even while he had worried about the effect that heritage would have on potential suitors. Harry was truly a godsend to the French ambassador.

After a moment, Mr. Dursley turned red and he began to stutter with rage while his wife regarded Harry as if she had never seen him before. The youngest Dursley could hardly take his eyes off the picture, although he did glance at Harry with a new respect in his eyes.

Shrinking the picture once again and replacing it in his wallet, Jean-Sebastian regarded the abysmal family with some distaste. "Once we leave this place, it will be up to Harry as to whether or not you will ever see him again. When he comes of age, I will leave that decision up to him."

"Just take him and go," Mr. Dursley said in a gruff tone of voice once he had recovered somewhat from his anger. "The only thing that will make us happy is if we don't have to deal with you lot again."

"We will, Dursley," Jean-Sebastian responded. "But I also feel it necessary to warn you as well."

Dursley passed a weary hand over his face. "Why can't you freaks just take a hint and understand where you're not wanted? We didn't want to have anything to do with him," Dursley jabbed a finger at Harry, "but your Headmaster wouldn't hear of anything else. We wanted him to live normally without all his parents' freakiness, but we were forced to send him to that school. Why do you people insist on doing this to us?"

Astonished at the rudeness and tenacity of this man, Jean-Sebastian was tempted to do exactly what he asked—leave them to their fate. However, his sense of responsibility demanded he deliver his message before he quit the place entirely. Besides, Dumbledore had convinced Jean-Sebastian that regardless of the Dursleys' worthiness as guardians or their worth as human beings, they deserved to be warned, due to the fact that they were Harry's relations.

"Mr. Dursley, are you familiar with the story of Lord Voldemort?"

Mrs. Dursley gasped. "Wasn't he that madman who was after Lily?"

Jean-Sebastian inclined his head. "He was after the whole family, yes, but more specifically after Harry, I suspect."

Although his wife seemed to understand what Jean-Sebastian was talking about, Mr. Dursley appeared to be completely at a loss. "What are you talking about?"

"Lily told me about him before she died," Mrs. Dursley told her husband. "He was after them for some reason or another—he's the one who killed them."

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