Harry Potter and The Other

The good weather arrived the very next day, at five in the evening by Fortescue's ice cream café. Since it reopened this spring, the place had been constantly bustling with people. The previous ice cream vendor had vanished somewhere, and now the café was run by an energetic middle-aged woman, who had either inherited or bought the establishment. However, the quality of the ice cream hadn't suffered from the change in ownership.

The choice of meeting place seemed symbolic, and Arcturus had prepared by studying etiquette on what to do if you're on your first date with a girl and taking her to a café. So, he immediately invited Daphne to a table, offered her a chair, handed her the menu, asked what she would like, and then placed the order for both of them. It turned out not to be as difficult as he'd feared, as long as he knew what to do. During the meal, the conversation was supposed to be on a neutral topic, so he strictly stuck to talking about the weather while they waited for their ice cream.

Talking to Daphne was easy. She was friendly without being overbearing, pleasant without being sycophantic, and she could make even a topic like the weather interesting. At first, Arcturus was tense, but he soon loosened up. They avoided personal subjects, but plenty of events had occurred in Britain since Voldemort's downfall, as covered by the newspapers. Arcturus mentally thanked Kreacher, who not only made him subscribe to and read the papers but also explained what each event meant for Britain. Now, Kreacher's perspective was clearly appreciated by Daphne, who even found ways to add to it.

"You've got quite a good grasp of British society," Daphne finally remarked. "Honestly, I wasn't expecting that."

"Do I really seem that hopeless?" Arcturus asked in horror, feeling like he was giving his best performance.

"Well, how to put it…" Daphne's smile was kind yet mischievous. "When we met last time, you came off… a bit provincial. It was obvious you'd been educated in the middle of nowhere, and being in public made you uncomfortable. Don't take it the wrong way, provincials come in all kinds, but you seemed uneasy, like you weren't used to your clothes, and you carefully picked your words before saying anything. For someone familiar with people's behavior, it was clear you were out of your element."

"Is it really that obvious?" Arcturus asked, his tone dropping.

"Don't worry, most people won't notice. If you want to get rid of it quickly, spend time in crowded places every day, and in two weeks, you'll start to feel more at ease."

"But you noticed…"

"I'm a special case. I'm observant. My mother taught me how to understand people from a young age."

Understanding people—the very thing Walburga had talked to him about yesterday. Arcturus had mastered the spell with her help, but when he asked her to teach him this skill too, she'd said they lacked the necessary 'study material,' meaning people. She'd only promised to answer any questions he had, but to ask questions, he needed to know something first.

"You're good at reading people?" Arcturus asked with sudden interest.

"It's never enough, but my mom says I'm a good student."

"I want to learn too. Could you teach me? Even just a little?"

"Well…" Daphne drew out the word, pretending to ponder deeply. "What's in it for me?"

Slytherin, Arcturus thought. On the other hand, it was good she was negotiating something for herself, because nothing comes for free except cheese in a mousetrap. He had no idea what to offer her.

"What do you want?"

Daphne emerged from her thoughtful act and shot him a playful glance.

"For now—nothing. But who knows what I might need later…"

"Alright, noted," he replied in her tone. "I'll owe you, but within reason."

Daphne smiled, satisfied, clearly deciding that she would be the one to determine the limits.

"Very well. When do we start?"

"How about now?"

"Where do we begin?"

"You should know better—I'm no expert. I'd start with the most important thing. There's got to be a key element to this, right?"

"There is." Daphne, suddenly serious, paused to weigh her words. "I'm not sure it's the most important, but it's essential. Tell me, how do you judge people?"

"What do you mean?"

"On what basis do you decide if someone is good or bad, smart or foolish, interesting or boring?"

Arcturus pondered this, realizing it was something he'd never really thought about.

"A good person is someone who treats me and my friends well. Smart… well, someone who's read a lot, knows a lot, and can recall and apply what they've read. Interesting… someone you can talk to without getting bored."

"Now notice, your definition of a good person is self-centered."

"I'm not selfish!" Arcturus quickly objected.

"I'm talking about your perspective, not you. According to your view, good people can't exist if they treat you poorly or are indifferent to you. But can't they still be good?"

"Well… maybe… I suppose they can. I hadn't really thought about it."

"Or take someone who isn't interesting to you. Couldn't they be interesting to someone else?"

"Of course, they could."

"See? Understanding people begins with realizing that you're not the center of the universe, and judging everyone by how nice they are to you is a child's view. Give a kid candy, and they're all yours."

Arcturus thought of Dumbledore, who always greeted him with sweets.

"As unfortunate as it is, there's some truth to that…" he muttered under his breath. "Why hadn't I thought about this before?"

"You didn't want to notice contradictions," Daphne replied, sensing that he was reflecting on something personal. "It's hard to let go of an opinion once you've formed it, whether it's good or bad."

"Yes, maybe," Arcturus agreed, recalling Snape, who never even tried to overcome his bias against him.

"And about intelligence. When you meet someone for the first time, you don't know what they've read—but surely, based on certain signs, you can judge whether they're smart or not?"

"Well… maybe they'll start bragging about how much they've read and show off their skills so I can admire their exceptional intellect."

Daphne couldn't hold back her laughter. Arcturus joined in.

"So, if books didn't exist, you wouldn't be able to tell a smart person from a foolish one?" she said through her laughter. "To you, intelligence is the same as knowledge?"

"Stop it, I get it! I'm already embarrassed."

"My mom says most people think the same way, so don't worry. What you need first is a change of perspective, because with your current one, you won't get far. Just take a mental glance at the world, notice how many people there are, and accept that each of them has their own interests, and you occupy a very small place in them."

"Well, sometimes it's a big place," Arcturus humbly reminded her.

"Yes, but still, you occupy that place in their interests, which may differ from yours. That's something you always need to consider. Now enough theory, let's move on to practice."

"Practice? Here?"

"A perfect place. Look around—who do you see?"

"People. Sitting, eating ice cream."

"Look at each one and evaluate who they are. If you find them interesting, why? If not, why not? Guess if they're rich or poor, in a good mood or bad, in a hurry or not, alone, with someone, or waiting for someone. Then quietly tell me, and we'll compare what we've observed."

This exercise fascinated Arcturus, and the fact that he had to scoot closer to Daphne so she could hear him was an added pleasant bonus.

"Remember, these are just likely assumptions," Daphne cautioned once they'd discussed most of the café's visitors. "Life is more complex; you can always encounter exceptions. To better judge someone's character or mood, adopt their posture and facial expression, then tune into yourself. What you feel will help you understand them. I'll tell you who to mimic, and you tell me what you can figure out."

If the first exercise was still clear to Arcturus, the second one was new. Daphne turned out to be a strict mentor and constantly corrected him, striving for a satisfactory result.

"See that woman on the street?" she nodded past the veranda's fence. "What can you say about her?"

"She's not in a good mood and seems to be in a hurry."

"Take on her expression and imagine yourself in her place, rushing just like her."

It took Arcturus about half a minute to tune in to the woman.

"She's very anxious, something must have happened," he said. At that moment, the woman reached the potion shop and turned inside. "Maybe someone is sick, and she's hurrying to get medicine," he thought aloud.

"You're making progress," Daphne approved. "Perhaps no one is sick, but something has happened, and she urgently needs a potion. To understand people, you must consciously assess them this way, everywhere and always. If you're diligent, a time will come when such assessments will take you fractions of a second, and you'll wonder how you ever managed without it. Avoid categorical judgments, and if something can be checked, always verify it. Many people assess others intuitively, but this habit helps you do it consciously. You'll always be able to answer why you have a particular opinion about someone. That's important."

"I never would have thought you need long, hard training just to understand people."

"That's you men—thinking training is only for magic or brawling. But knowing people is an art too, and a weapon."

"My grandmother says the same thing."

"You have a wise grandmother. Why didn't she teach you this herself?"

"We only recently moved in together; before that, we lived apart. Family circumstances."

Daphne wanted to ask him something else, but suddenly her sweet and animated face turned closed, becoming expressionless. Following her gaze, Arcturus saw a trio walking down Diagon Alley—people he knew well. It was Ron, Ginny, and Hermione.

He must have given himself away somehow, but Daphne wasn't looking at him. This gave Arcturus a few moments to figure out how to act toward his former friends. Given that he was posing as a newcomer in front of Daphne, he couldn't be familiar with them, but there had been plenty of articles and photos of the heroes of the Battle with Voldemort in the papers.

The heroes reached the café, stopped, and, at Ron's insistence, entered. Daphne watched them out of the corner of her eye, and when they sat down at a free table, she turned her head toward Arcturus and said in a bored tone, "We've been sitting here too long; let's go."

They stood up. Although Arcturus forgot to offer his arm, Daphne took it herself. As they approached the veranda exit, Ron's voice sounded behind them:

"Look, there's that Slytherin snake!"

Arcturus tensed, seized by the urge to smash the redhead's face, and would have stopped if not for Daphne's fingers gripping his elbow, pulling him further along.

"Who's that with her?" Ginny asked with interest.

"Her suitor, obviously."

"Ron, hush!" Hermione's authoritative voice rang out.

They stepped off the veranda and didn't hear anything more, but Daphne still dragged Arcturus further away.

"We escaped from them!" His voice carried the anger that hadn't yet subsided.

"Do you know them?"

Arcturus collected himself.

"I've read about them in the papers."

"I went to school with them. That Weasley is very ill-tempered; he'd likely start badmouthing me loudly. You'd have to intervene, the incident could end in the Auror's office, and you'd be blamed. They're war heroes; they'd be justified, and we'd at best get a hefty fine. The Ministry coffers are empty—they're hunting for money like dogs right now."

"Why empty?" Arcturus asked, surprised, forgetting even about his former friends.

"Because new governments always spend public money, and in the past three years, it's changed three times."

Arcturus's anger faded, replaced by sincere gratitude. Daphne had indeed cleverly steered them both away from impending trouble. He looked at her with admiration and, unexpectedly for himself, raised her hand to his lips to express his admiration in some way.

"You were magnificent!" he said, mentally adding, And I behaved like a fool. Daphne smiled, flattered.

"Avoid them if you don't want trouble," she advised.

"Do you know them that well?"

"Enough to steer clear of them. Those Weasleys are blood traitors, and the word 'traitors' speaks for itself. Betraying is second nature to them; they don't even realize there's anything wrong with it. Ronald is rude and a troublemaker, Ginny—well, her future husband will be lucky if even their first child resembles him. Granger is a Muggle-born and an ambitious one at that; being second-rate doesn't suit her. Only the highest position will do, which is why she's latched onto Potter and Weasley like a leech. Now, with them in power, her Ministry career is guaranteed."

Arcturus was impressed by Daphne's harsh and cynical judgment of people who had been his friends—and even his family, for lack of another—for seven years. At the same time, he couldn't disagree with her assessment, because if viewed impartially, those traits were indeed there. But before, he'd preferred to overlook his friends' flaws for the sake of the good they brought him.

He wondered how she assessed the Boy Who Lived.

"Potter's not with them today," he casually remarked.

"And that makes it worse, because Potter is the only one who could have held Ronald back from a major scandal. Though, I must admit, more often he would just follow along."

"You don't… dislike him too?" Arcturus asked.

"What's there to dislike? He was raised by Muggles, and they could manipulate him however they wanted. His friends always treated him like their property. They told him whom to befriend, whom to hate, what to do, and where to go. On his own, he's unremarkable, easily influenced by those around him."

"Unremarkable? How can you say that? That scar, everyone stares at it!"

"The scar is noticeable; its owner isn't. A mere pawn, a puppet easily pulled by strings."

"Are you saying he's just an ordinary guy, not even worth criticizing?"

Daphne shrugged and made a slight expression of indifference.

"Even if that's the case, I do recall that the Boy with the Scar rid Britain of Voldemort. And he definitely wouldn't insult me behind my back. But those who stand behind him, I don't like. They influence him."

"Things could still change…" Arcturus muttered, stung by her words. Daphne's opinion of him wasn't the worst, but she had hit the mark, saying his friends controlled him.

"If you mean now that Potter's parents have returned, I doubt it will change anything. I don't even know what kind of people could use their son like that. By the way, we're already in the second week, and he still hasn't shown up anywhere. Looks like he really took a beating. I don't understand how they could set up such an inexperienced boy."

The sympathy in her voice moved Arcturus, and he immediately forgot the unpleasant things she'd said about the Boy Who Lived.

"Rumor has it, it was the only way," he remembered the prophecy and Dumbledore's gentle, persuasive voice.

"Nonsense!" Daphne said angrily. "If someone says it's the only way, it means it's the way that suits them the most. As my father says, even if you've been eaten, you still have at least two ways out."

Arcturus couldn't help but agree. That way out was the foundation of the victor over Voldemort, a truth the Boy Who Survived was better off not knowing.

"You have great parents."

Daphne smiled warmly.

"They're wonderful. But enough of the unpleasant; let's take a walk instead."

They strolled for a bit down Diagon Alley before Daphne began to say goodbye.

"When will we meet again?" Arcturus asked.

"I'll be busy until the end of this week; we have family visits planned. I don't know what's expected next week yet. Send an owl over the weekend; maybe by then I'll know something."

"Why don't you send one when things become clear?"

"For that, I'd need to know your owl address." Daphne looked at him mockingly, hinting that she knew nothing about him except his name.

"Arcturus Procyon Travers-Black, London, Grimmauld 12. Write to me, I'll be waiting."