The obscurus was on a rocky beach with the sun peeking through the horizon. The rocky beach irritated his bare feet. What was more irritating was his ravenous hunger, thirst, and fatigue. He had flown to the beach in obscurus form. Now that he had converged on Harry's human body, he would need to eat, drink, and sleep. He dispersed into his obscurus form—he liked it more in this form, less of a hassle—and searched for a restaurant.

He read the sign, "Le restaurant d'Edouard". The non-English language confirmed this wasn't Britain. Where was he, though? He strode in from the gap around the door carefully so as not to leave noticeable marks on the restaurant. The kitchen was the second room he floated into after getting inside. He ignored the first room with barren showcases.

He found leftover pastries in the kitchen. The pastries still looked edible, but they are cold. He didn't know what kind of pastries Harry liked, so he shoved all of them into the oven for ten minutes and took them out. He filled a kettle and placed it over the stove. The kettle whistled, and he poured warm water into a glass. He set the heated bread and the glass of warm water on a table in the corner with three chairs. He coverage into Harry's body in the rightmost chair.

He thought Harry would enjoy the pastries more than he would. Harry was still sleeping in their minds. He shut his eyes and floated to where Harry was sleeping. "Harry, wake up," He said softly while motioning his hands to Harry's chest. Harry jolted awake and took over. It was so sudden that Harry fell off the chair. Harry didn't hit his head on the floor as the Obscurus floated Harry to sit on the floor. Harry looked around the room frantically for a place to hide and the room's exits.

"Harry! Harry, you're fine." He tried to unwind Harry, but Harry turned his head back instantly to where Harry guessed the voice was. "You're safe, Harry. Dursley can't harm you anymore." Harry relaxed a bit but was still on guard. "You're in a bakery and there's food and water on that table." Harry gazed at the table with steaming pastries and a glass of water on it. Harry's stomach growled. He set the chair that fell off and floated Harry on it. "Eat, Harry."

Harry took a sip of the glass of water. Harry pecked at the warm water to see if the Obscurus would reprimand him. It didn't, so Harry continued to nibble the water. Hearing no response, he guzzled it down his throat. Harry yelped as the black strands grabbed the empty glass he put on the table. "I'm pouring you another glass of warm water, Harry. Go ahead and eat the pastries."

Harry took a strawberry éclair and nibbled before biting. 'It's… it's chocolate!' Harry's eyes lit up in recognition of the taste. He had eaten chocolate cake—at least what was left of it—for Dudley's birthday. When he was done with the éclair, he grabbed a chouquette and devoured it. Then he ate a profiterole. The cream melted in his mouth. While he ate it, tears started to fall. The tears weren't sadness, but appreciation. No one had been this kind to him before. He had never tasted this much flavor in a day. It was usually whatever the Dursley had left on their plates.

The obscurus let Harry cry. He could hear Harry's thoughts. He felt pity when he heard them. He put the filled water glass on the table, careful not to clink it. He rubbed Harry's hair in consolation.

"Thank-thank you," said Harry. Thank you for getting him out of the Dursley, thank you for saving him, thank you for the warm pastries, thank you for the warm water, and… thank you for taking care of a freak like him.

'Harry,' the Obscurus said in Harry's mind, 'You're welcome. It would be best if you stopped thinking of yourself as a freak. With magic, we can do anything. Even setting those muggles in their place.'

Harry wiped his tears at the thought of the obscurus and continued to eat the pastries. Harry didn't eat everything, though, he had a small stomach from all the malnutrition while at the Dursley. The obscurus needed to take Harry to a doctor—or was it a healer?—as soon as they got into the magical side of France. Maybe to the Gringotts first? They would need money, and Harry already has a bunch of stagnant gold in his vault.

"Qui es-tu? Un voleur? Un enfant sans abri?"¹"Who are you? A thief? A homeless child?" a stranger's voice alerted them away from their world.

RevonZev

I've been told that my grammar is choppy and maybe unreadable. Yeah, I'm not a native English speaker and I use the free Grammarly and LanguageTool to find typos. However, this doesn't cover things like inconsistent tense, missing/inconsistent plurals, and rough paragraph/sentence structure. Is anyone up to being a beta reader?

I could extend the time between releases, which could mean longer (like more than a thousand words instead of at least five hundred words) chapters.

Also, this fanfic is written on the go, with a short time frame between chapter releases, no draft/backlog chapters, and I, being a pantser writer; it has zero planning, just ideas. I'll fix 'em when I complete this fic, in a rewrite (I don't mind helpful critics or tips).

Unrelated to the poll:
I have never been to France nor speak French, but use Google Translate. I made up the restaurant—and any other future establishment—'cause this ain't the 1980s, and it's annoying to sort an entire city/town establishment from Google Maps if it existed back then or not.

Edited on July 22, 2023. Added the English translation in the footnote.