"I hear you're expanding your operations," Sir Briar eventually said. "Buying new buildings for new factories. Any new miracle creams in the works?"
"Afraid not," I replied with a shake of my head. "Just trying to meet demands for now."
"You'll want to try and think of something for next year," one of the men nearby suggested. "Your current products are excellent, but the public is quick to forget and find the next fad."
"Hmm, you're quite right about that," I agreed. "Do you think a toothpaste that can help whiten teeth would sell well?"
We spoke some more about business, and I made friends with some new investors very interested with some potential future products, before things shifted to other matters.
"So, who's the chap you brought with you, Mr. Rose?" a portly man who was a high-ranking judge inquired.
"That would be one of Justin Finch-Fletchley's friends from school," I replied. "Harry Potter is his name."
"A schoolmate, is it? We were all quite surprised to hear that young Justin wasn't going to attend Eton last year," a member of the House of Lords said. "This new school is somewhere in Scotland, I believe?"
"Yes, it's rather exclusive," I said. "Less than a hundred people were allowed in last year, if I'm not mistaken."
Intrigued murmurs rippled through the crowd that had gathered around me. "My, I wonder what the requirements are to attend such an institution!" a woman wondered, running a finger along the rim of her wine glass.
"I'm am unfamiliar with the boy's name," another person mused.
"Ah, that would be due to the fact the poor child lost his parents at an early age," I said with a shake of my head. "Tragic accident, very terrible. Harry's parents were alumni of the school, and was thus offered a spot there. Though thankfully the boy has been raised well by his aunt and uncle. From what I understand, his uncle, a Mr. Dursley, works as one of the top sales managers for Grunnings."
"Grunnings, eh? I hear they make drills and other tools. Heard good things about the quality," one man said, and listened as some people who likely knew the bosses of the bosses of the men who owned the company Vernon worked at chatted amongst themselves.
Much as I wanted to badmouth the Dursleys, I knew that doing so would only bring me a tiny bit of short-term satisfaction. These men and women were powerful, and a single bit of idle gossip could ruin a lesser man, which Vernon Dursley very much was.
And while I'd be happy to see that whale get his comeuppance, it would also hurt Harry indirectly, because if Vernon lost his job due to a casual comment I made here, then they might have to sell their house, and then the Blood Wards wouldn't protect Harry any longer.
Thus, I swallowed my hate and lathered the tub of lard in praise, hoping that perhaps some goodwill made here just might trickle down to Harry when he had to return to Number 4 Privet Drive next summer.
"You know, Mr. Rose, I heard that you had a bit of a kerfuffle over the summer," somebody, a woman with connections to the Board of Directors for the BBC, said, reminding me of the attempted kidnapping.
'Well, technically it was successfully, but I escaped just fine,' I thought to myself, before responding to her. "That was just a misunderstanding, Miss Colhoun. It was just a case of mistaken identity."
"Is that so?" she inquired, no doubt sensing a juicy story.
"Quite. They let me go after realizing their mistake," I told her. She tittered, as if I'd told a funny joke, and I couldn't help but compare her to Rita Skeeter in my head.
"That must have been quite the misunderstanding," Sir Briar chuckled dryly.
"It certainly sounds like it. Reminds me of the time I was on duty…" an elderly man with military medals proudly on display said, beginning a long-winded tale of military bravery and heroism I was pretty sure was exaggerated.
Two hours went by, and thankfully, this time there was no signs of another kidnapping, for me or for Delilah. In fact, my girlfriend took me over to meet her mother, who greeted with a tiny smile when Delilah introduced me to her.
"I've heard quite a bit about you, Mr. Rose," Mrs. Hunt said.
"Good things, I hope," I laughed.
"I believe she said something about a trip to France together," Delilah's mother confirmed, sighing, "How romantic!"
"It was," I nodded.
"He was quite the gentleman," Delilah agreed.
We continued to speak for a bit longer, but I was able to confirm that Mrs. Hunt was a lovely woman, who had a quick wit and a lot of funny stories about her daughter, which I gleefully listened to, even as Delilah turned red.
However, all good things come to an end, and the party began to wind down, people trickling out. Justin and Harry were growing tired as well, and the Finch-Fletchleys took them both home for a sleepover, which I hoped Harry would enjoy.
Meanwhile, that just left me and Delilah to ourselves. We went back to my apartment, and spent the rest of the night watching cheesy late night movies. It was a lot better than last Christmas, that was for sure! Nobody had died at all!
'Though there's still time before the New Year,' I thought to myself as I fell asleep on the couch, tucked in beneath a warm blanket next to Delilah who was already snoring away.
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