The rest is confetti by GabrielaSouza34

"Mr Potter will need a room by the end of the summer" announced Cornelius Fudge lazily to the freckled young man at the counter, Harry had never seen him before and judging by his appearance he was no more than nineteen. still have spare rooms, I have never seen this place so full”

He added seeing the great movement. The young clerk chuckled nervously and crouched behind the counter looking for his keys, then stood with his back to Harry and Fudge as if he were thinking about how to escape a judgment.

“Mr. Fudge” began to speak recklessly “There are no keys here, all the rooms are occupied” suddenly he made an expression, the same one in the cartoons when a light bulb appears on top of a character's head” A woman rented the room number 3 but forgot to hand over the key when she left, she informed me that she would hand it over tonight or tomorrow morning as soon as possible, if Mr. Potter doesn't mind maybe sleeping with the door unlocked

Cornelius Fudge nodded.

"As long as he doesn't leave the room I don't see a problem, Harry don't forget what we talked about."

Harry nodded looking at his own shoes, he felt like a kid having to be locked inside the house all summer, at least he could walk all over Diagon Alley, unlike the Dursley's where he had nothing but his closet , the conversation with Fudge was quick and confused, Aunt Marge was fine and was obliviated, his uncles let him come back for next summer (he would rather never come back), and he couldn't leave Diagon Alley for reasons mysterious to him , but he knew it had something to do with Sirius Black, maybe the minister thought Harry would see Black in the Quidditch Shop and wave hello, a fugitive would never go to such a busy place, but Harry didn't care after all he would pass all summer alone and still spend time with Hermione, Ron and their family.

Dimly he noticed that Fudge had signed something in a book and was giving money to the clerk.

“This is for Mr. Potter's lodging, now I have to go. Good night Harry, and be careful, and please don't forget our arrangement"

" Yes sir"

“Thank you, Mr. Flatos,” added the minister as he put on his bowler hat and black coat and skirt out the door.

Harry turned to the counter and saw that Mr. Flatos (was that his name?, it was horrible) was staring at his scar with admirable curiosity, in fact he took a while to face Harry thought feeling uncomfortable, he hated being famous and hated it even more be the center of attention.

"Eerrr"

“ Oh! Your trunk” said the boy as with a wave of his wand he levitated the trunk of Hogwarts. I give to you.

" Okay"

The Pub and Inn was both old-fashioned and cozy, its wooden walls filled with paintings and its vintage furniture, Harry followed him up a beautiful wooden staircase to a door with a number three brass plate, which Simon unlocked and opened. for him. Inside was a very comfortable bed, very shiny oak furniture, a fireplace in which the fire crackled merrily, and perched on top of the cupboard...

“ Hedwig! exclaimed Harry. The very white owl snapped its beak and flew into Harry's arm. “Very smart owl yours,” said Simon, chuckling. "It arrived about five minutes later. If you need anything, Mr. Potter, please just ask. Harry didn't think he would be able to sleep with all this fuss, but as soon as he put his head on the pillow, he passed out. While Harry slept, his hated potions teacher sat in his office in a green armchair drinking a glass of whiskey in one hand and crumpling a piece of paper that looked like a letter in the other. Little did they both know that their lives would change by a simple miscommunication, a forgotten woman, a key, an ink-removal spell, and a quill, literally in that order. “Good morning, Tom” wished Simon Flatos putting on the old scarf “As agreed, tomorrow is my day off” “Good morning, Simon. Did everything go well?." “All great, all rooms are occupied, all guests must still be asleep. “It's still six-thirty in the morning, be careful on the way,” he added as Simon closed the door. As soon as the young man left, a young black woman with honey-colored curly hair entered. “Good morning, Tom. I came to bring the key that I forgot, one of these days I still lose my wand, I'm so forgetful” I saluted laughing. “Good morning Sarah, it doesn't matter. I left the room reserved with your name” explained the man as he took the small key and put it on the counter, then took a small book, a quill and a small inkwell. Here you are, Sarah Fier, room number three.” When he cast a spell, the words vanished and Tom wrote Free Room.