A Court of Flowers

Story: A Court of Flowers

Storylink: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13298565/1/
Category: Harry Potter
Genre: Romance/Adventure
Author: DavidTheAthenai
Authorlink: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/7324673/
Last updated: 09/13/2021
Words: 100207
Rating: M
Status: In Progress
Content: Chapter 1 to 18 of 18 chapters
Source: FanFiction.net

Summary: I could speak for hours about my rotten luck, about how many times I've been close to death. But luck is
relative and some would say I am, in fact, extremely lucky. I would have disrespectfully disagreed. That was before I
met fair Miss Delacour though; well even for a bit after I met her if I am honest. Follow me trough a year of adventure
and discovery, in more than one way.
*Chapter 1*: The French Are Strange
Chapter 1

The French Are Strange

The cold wind played around with the robes of the people around me as we waited, herded together as much for
warmth as for the professors, standing in a semicircle behind us in silent instruction. It really was a cold night. The
moon shined bright, illuminating the grounds with its shimmering silver, revealing a whole bunch of nothing as
interesting as the foreign students we had been promised. And it had been like that for a good while now.

At one point I had taken to counting the freckles of a girl that was a couple meters from me, but she started speaking
to her friend with such vehemence that I gave it up as a lost cause after having to start from scratch the third time.
Ron had complained a few times about the wait, claiming inhumane treatment at having to wait for so long before the
feast, a sentiment that had been echoed by a not insignificant number of students before Hermione put an
authoritarian stop to his tirade.

"Look there!"

The shout of a first year a couple rows ahead woke me from the stupor waiting outside in the cold while wrapped in a
warm robe had induced in me. After forty minutes of waiting, the excitement that had been brewing steadily through
the whole year, and today in particular, had waned considerably. Most people had stopped looking around
expectantly and switched to chatter idly, a steady hum filling the empty night.

The kid that had shouted was pointing to something in the lake's direction. The clear face of the lake rippled and
bubbled, the mirror moon waving like a white veil, a white shadow growing around it until the moon looked like a
brighter speck on the undulating sheet of grey. Something was emerging from the formerly still lake.

The water clung to the emerging object not wanting to relinquish its hold on it, obscuring it from view under a shifting,
translucent film. The silhouette of a ship was visible behind the shimmering veil, slowly but surely growing into a fully
distinguishable shape in a macabre reversion of a sinking galleon.

With the sound of a thunderclap the curtain of water ripped revealing an enormous sail ship enmarked in the wake of
its defeated precipitation, its square, white sails glowing in comparison to its surroundings. An impossibly long plank
extended from where the ship lay now anchored at least a hundred meters until it reached the shore, and flickering,
bulking shapes floated over it and towards us, a frigid and unnatural waft heralding them.

My skin broke into goosebumps and the warm, friendly air that had permeated the packed multitudes evaporated in
the wake of the display. I was left with the feeling that I had watched the raising of a corpse. Judging by the uneasy
shifting and mutterings around me, I was not alone in the feeling.

"What the sod was that?" Exhaled Ron.

I shook my head, as much in answer as to try and shake the lingering dread of the show. The silhouettes of the
delegates of the ship's school were now close enough to be detailed. Most of their apparent bulk was a result of the
heavy furs they wore, though they were, in general, quite tall. Not that it was an outrageous feat when I was the one
making the observation.

The headmaster, or so I assumed, approached Dumbledore and shook his hand, smiling in a way that would have
been charming had it not been for his yellowed teeth.

"It's been a long time headmaster," He looked at the castle and then at the group of students huddled by the doors,
"Hogwarts has changed as much as you have, eh?"

"I hope the same is not true of you, Igor," Said Dumbledore in his most amicable tone, his eyes shining with a kind
smile, somehow making the newly named Igor stiffen, "change is the core of betterment after all."

Dumbledore put a hand in his shoulder and turned towards the castle's door, "You better get your students inside,
Igor, it may be warmer here than at Durmstrang, but that's not saying much. And I can see some of your students are
faring the worse for it."
Indeed, one of the figures closest to Durmstrang's headmaster was hunched under his furs, face red, sniffing
constantly, and generally looking quite miserable.

"Merlin's sagging left ball! That's Victor Krum!" His former spooked mood forgotten, Ron straightened and eyed Krum
as he did his plate of sausages in the morning, which was not an image I wanted in my brain.

"He's just a quidditch player, Ronald," Hermione's dulcet tones cut through his enraptured gaze.

"Just a quidd-"

"He is certainly less graceful on the ground, he looks about to trip and fall" I cut his angry tirade not bothering to look
at the betrayed expression he was probably throwing my way, choosing to look around in feigned ignorance for a sign
of the Beauxbatons delegation. And hoping it would be less off-putting than whatever the hells that thing with the ship
had been.

A glint in the sky drew my eye instinctively, and my first thought was 'snitch'. Snitches, however, would not grow so
large by the second as this was doing. It was definitely something round, gold and winged though.

"There," I pointed to my mates, "What do you make of that?"

Hermione hummed, "It looks like a pumpkin."

"A flying house?" Added Ron.

It took but seconds for the thing to crash with a mighty sound in front of the assembly and prove them both wrong,
though not by a long shot. It looked like a pumpkin, but the size of a house, painted a soft pastel cream with blue
accents and adorned with enough gold to pass for a huge snitch. Only the wings didn't belong to it, but rather to a
group of massive winged horses that pulled the contraption with some kind of harness, their pearly manes shining
almost as much as the polished silver wheels behind them.

"Pegasi!" Sighed Hermione, enraptured.

Enrapturing is a good word to describe the feeling of Beauxbatons in general. Such a stark contrast.

"It looks like something out of a fairy tale!" The excitable Colin Creevey said, breathless as the rest of us, wording my
thoughts.

The students descended from the flying contraption through a door on the side, a score of people wearing a light
looking uniform in the same colours as the carriage. Behind them, an elegant woman in a shiny black dress
straightened into her full height.

A height I had only seen before in Hagrid.

The pegasi looked like common mares next to her.

She cut through her own students gracefully, with them moving away respectfully as she neared them and
immediately following In her way towards our Headmaster.

As with the Durmstrang's head, they appeared to already know each, for after a warm greeting in which Dumbledore
kissed her hand twice - for there was no hope of him ever reaching her cheeks despite his height - we were all
gestured to go inside the castle.

The feast was fairly normal, with the exception of everyone being closer together as there were a lot more students in
the hall even if the guests were distributed along all four house tables, with Beauxbatons sitting at the Ravenclaw and
Gryffindor tables and Durmstrang spread between Slytherin and Hufflepuff.

As per usual Dumbledore left everything important for after the feast, just offering a short introduction of Madame
Maxime and Igor Karkarov as heads of their respective school before the food materialised in front of us, so we were
all happily munching on our food when we were interrupted.

"Are you wanting the bouillabaisse?"

I turned to my right to see a blue-eyed girl wearing a blue scarf -which at first made me think she was a Ravenclaw-
standing behind Ron, one eye arched at him as he stood pale and transfixed mouthing like a fish. A particularly stupid
one.

I was about to stomp his foot when he jumped in a way that made me think Hermione had been quicker than me.

"*Sorry. You can take it, there's more than enough with the other dishes.*"

Well, I'll be damned. Didn't know Hermione spoke French.

With a grateful little smile, the French witch took the bowl and left towards the Ravenclaw table, where she had been
sitting, leaving us with our dinner.

Ron remained looking a bit starstruck for a while.

After the long wait in the cold outer yard it was not surprising that the hot meals provided disappeared at record
speeds, making it time for the Judge of the tournament to be revealed. The impartial, strict and impossible to deceive
judge.

A cup.

A flaming cup that didn't even look impressive, a rough wooden goblet set aflame. According to Hermione I should be
very impressed by the amazing artifact, but I just couldn't find it in me.

"So, little Harry, what are you thinking?" Came from my left as Forge plopped down on the bench.

"Planning on entering?" Came from my right, accompanied by Ron's cursing, as Gred did the same.

"I'm not of age, mates. It's not like I can enter."

"Like that has stopped you before."

That pulled a wry smile from me. "Even then, I won't try. Looking for a bit of peace this year. Besides if I'm not allowed
to summon Ron and Hermione from the stands I won't stand a chance."

That caused general laughter around me. But in a way it was true after all, none of my adventures were just mine. I
shared a fond smile with my friends as the crazy twins started rambunctiously inventing stories of us three to the
delight of the whole house, and the bewilderment of the guests.

Halloween was declared free of classes, as no one would likely be able to actually focus on them.

I spent the morning alone sitting on a window ledge on the astronomy tower, trying to make the most of the peace
and the morning sun that was fighting its way through October clouds. It was a quite charming sight, the golden rays
like the fingers of a god, reaching towards the floor. I could easily lose track of time here, were it not for the chill.

And so, when the cold winds became too much, I started my trek down the winding and spiraling halls of the castle,
thinking of breakfast and maybe flying around the Quidditch pitch for a while later. Have a whole leisure day. Now that
sounded quite nice.

Almost nobody came to this part of the castle in the morning, so imagine my surprise when a blonde apparition
smacked right into my nose with a huff as I was turning a corner.

"Son of a barghest!" I hissed, rubbing my aforementioned protuberance.

The apparition, now easily identifiable as a girl, just sat there on the floor where she had fallen with a hand on her
forehead, looking at me through a curtain of fine pale hair as if she couldn't believe someone had the gall to bump
into her.

"Oh, sorry," I said while I offered my free hand to help her up, my voice a bit nasal. "I was not expecting to bump into
anyone here. Are you Ok?" She glared at me perfunctorily for a moment before taking my hand and pulling herself
up.

"I am fine, thank you." She said, dusting her skirts with as much dignity as could be gathered in the situation. Her
hands moving over her uniform made me notice that it was not the usual black, and in an amazing display of
observation I saw that she was covered entirely in blue clothes, marking her a Beauxbatons student.
Her posture was stiff and prideful, confrontational, even. It was putting me on my nerves, to be honest. It didn't
particularly look like she would appreciate the company, so maybe it was best I leave her to her things.

"Well, I guess I'll be going then," I said shifting my feet to and fro before turning to walk down the hall.

"Wait!" Came a half shout, too loud for the short steps between us.

I turned a bit worried about the sudden outburst, her prideful stance now at odds with her fidgeting hands, "Yes?"

She bit her lip and wrung the edge of her robe, "I am quite lost and could use some 'elp."

"Oh," I said as I faced her. "Where are you trying to go?"

"The courtyard or the main gate, I am in need of some air."

I looked at her then for a few seconds, perplexed, trying to imagine what route she took to- "how did you even end up
here? You are almost at the top of the tallest tower."

Her cheeks tinted a pretty shade and she lifted her chin, "It's a strange building, anyone could get lost."

That, if anything, made me smile. "You're right, Hogwarts can be a bit tricky. I got lost loads during my first year here,"
I said and shrugged, "follow me. I was heading to the great hall anyway."

"Thank you," She said in a dainty voice, stepping beside me.

We walked side to side for a good portion of the castle, mostly in silence at first, but as I could see her glancing at me
from time to time in obvious curiosity, I started to point out certain things that could be used as landmarks, interesting
tidbits I had found throughout the years. Her responses were mostly limited to noises of interest, but as she appeared
to be genuinely paying attention to what I said, I kept at it.

Despite this there was a sort of restlessness to her demeanor that was, despite my best efforts to ignore it, slowly
grating on my nerves. What was the problem? Sod Ron if I know.

The bullicious sound of a hungry crowd started to be heard in the distance, echoing through the walls. My stomach
rumbled in anticipation, knowing his goal was close.

"I believe we 'avent given each other's names." The girl said, stopping and offering her hand just as the corridor
turned and opened towards the entrance's stairwell "I am Fleur Delacour, and you are?"

I took her hand and smiled, "Harry. Harry Potter."

"Ugh," She dropped my hand unceremoniously, as if it was slimy, and crossed her arms over her chest, eyes flaring
through the slits they became, " 'arry Potter? Really? Couldn't you come up with something more original?"

"What?" I said, with all the grace and finesse that characterizes me.

The girl, Fleur I had to remember, scoffed and rolled her eyes before stomping away and towards the castle's doors.

I stood there for a minute, perplexed, and just shook my head, "Ron is right, girls are mental," her long hair
disappeared from view as she sharply turned after clearing the entrance.

"Oh well, nothing to be done really," I muttered to myself as I started towards the stairs and on my way to the Great
Hall in hopes of a warm and hearty meal.
*Chapter 2*: Was it too much to hope for?
Chapter 2

Was It Too Much To Hope For?

The strange meeting with Fleur Delacour was out of my mind by the time I was sitting at the Halloween feast.

I wasn't very fond of this holiday not so much because it was the anniversary of my parent's deaths, I didn't know that
a few years ago after all, but because every year something bad tends to happen to me on this very date.

"Who do you reckon will be champion?" Said Ron with dreamy eyes.

"If the twins had managed to enter their names I would think it would be one of them," Ron and I looked at Hermione
in surprise.

"What," she said, "They are too clever by half, and if those things they invent are any indication, they are a lot smarter
than most people think. They don't shy away from danger either."

"That makes sense actually," I said, thinking about it, "I would not have thought of it that way though."

"That's cause they're clever. They downplay their strengths so people underestimate them."

"Hmmm." They are havoc wreckers too, I thought, not a bad skill when facing bad odds.

Ron just sat there looking as if someone had kicked his puppy.

"Come on Ronald, don't look at me like that," said Hermione amused at Ron's funk, "Harry was right yesterday. None
of us stands a chance alone. I actually read that the last instalment of the tournament ended with all champions,
judges and a good portion of the public dead because the wards around the arena failed and the cockatrice that the
champions were supposed to battle went on a rampage."

"We killed a Mountain troll-"

"We being the operative word."

"Harry killed a basilisk alo-"

"With the help of a phoenix, which is an incredibly powerful magical creature, and one of the most heavily enchanted
swords in the history of the British Isles. Not to mention he's a parselmouth, he would not have to worry about its
gaze. Even if we didn't know that at the time. "

Well, Hermione does have a point, "And the chamber was too small for it to maneuver. That helped lots." It was that
in fact, what gave me the chance to take that last stab.

"And even then, it bit you, if it weren't for Fawkes you would be dead." I rubbed my arm self consciously, aware of
Ron's worried gaze on it.

"Yeah, you are right," said my ginger friend, "It just sounds so exciting though. To be Hogwarts Champion." Ron
stared at the ceiling with unfocused, dreamy eyes, "But I guess that kind of adventure always gets balls up, huh?"

"Ronald!" Hermione always got Weasley red when Ron or I said something like that. It was endearing really.

"Follow the spiders," I mocked whispered to Ron in a gravely voice, chuckling when he shuddered at the reminder of
one of our adventures gone balls up and warding my head from my brown-haired friend's book before she hit me with
it. Hermione smiled despite herself.

"Don't remind me of that, mate. Especially before the feast."

That made us laugh outright, more so as a few seconds later food appeared on the plates making Ron's expression
do a one-eighty.
The hall, in general, was a buzz of excitement, people chattering about, making bets and predictions about what the
tasks would be. All that stopped when Dumbledore rose from his seat, eyes warm and kind, arms wide open as if he
could embrace the whole room at once.

"Dear students, staff members, ghosts and guests. The time has come. The Goblet is ready to make its decision.
Glory and recognition await just a breath away, a chance like no other, but as such, laden with danger unimaginable."

There was a sereneness to Dumbledore that was seldom seen as he let his gaze roam over all the house tables one
by one. "Those chosen here will be the Champions of their respective schools, they would be brave and kind, sly but
wise. They will be tested in every way, and woe to him who is found lacking! For all start as champions but only one
will keep that title, in the end".

The mood on the hall dropped in tandem with the lights that dimmed to leave only the Goblet aflame. How very like
Dumbledore to drop such a warning veiled within a pretty speech.

With an awful swoosh, fire rose from the Goblet like a snake striking towards the stars on the charmed ceiling. From
the tongues of flame, a scorched piece of parchment flew and Dumbledore caught it with a deftness that belied his
age. I wonder if he was a seeker in his youth.

"The champion for Durmstrang institute will be Victor Krum!" Read Dumbledore from the sliver of parchment.

The Durmstrang entourage rose in celebration, chanting Krum's name like he was entering a quidditch stadium.

After shaking Dumbledore's hand Krum was directed to a door at the back of the head table and everyone quieted
again, excitably waiting for the next name. In the same spectacular fashion, the name of the next contestant found its
way to Dumbledore's hand.

"Fleur Delacour will be Beauxbatons chosen!" The blonde girl from before rose, all poise and elegance chin high and
a delicate smile adorning her proud face. It painted a very different picture from the disgruntled girl that got lost at
breakfast. Each step exuding confidence, she approached Dumbledore and then went the same way as Krum.

The last name was indeed the most awaited, and the Great Hall seemed to be holding it's collective breath, primed to
explode, Which it did when with naught but a small smile Dumbledore read the name he had just caught.

"Cedric Diggory."

If Dumbledore said anything more it was lost to the yells of most everyone on the hall, though none louder than
Cedric's housemates. More than walking towards the front, he was half carried there, laughing charmingly at the
organizers before going towards the next was celebrating, even Ron who had been hoping for a Gryffindor champion.

I looked at Hermione and shared a small laugh at Ron's enthusiasm, when just before he was so against anyone
outside Gryffindor.

There were disappointed faces in the crowd, of course, mostly from people who had put their name forward, but even
they were clapping and cheering.

A flash of lightning illuminated the enchanted ceiling. No, not lightning. I turned toward the flash, it was the Goblet
again. Little by little the hall quieted, realizing something was amiss.

Dumbledore stood frozen looking at the small crumpled piece of parchment that he had caught by mere reflex, an
then he looked at me, old blue eyes pinning me down with a sense of dread.

"Harry Potter."

And everyone heard, even though it was merely a whisper.

AUTHORS NOTE

Shorter chapter this time, but it felt like the right place to end it.

When Hermione says "Not to mention he's a parselmouth. He would not have to worry about its gaze." Its because in
this fic, parselmouths are supposed to be immune to the gaze of a basilisk, they didn't find out until after the fact
though. Consider it a rule of my au.
Also yes, the first interaction between Harry and Fleur is inspired by a reddit post by u/TheDivineDemon.

Also, daily updates are. NOT going to be the norm, even if they happen from time to time

Those of you that say I need to polish my writing style, please elaborate. Otherwise, I will not know where I can
improve.

Thank you all for reading, every time I got a following or favourite notification I got giddy hehehe. It is really
motivating. See you in the next one.
*Chapter 3*: Rules of the Game
Chapter 3

Rules of the Game

I've been through a lot of shitty, dangerous and weird happenstances on and around this castle. And not once have I
seen that look on Dumbledore's face. He looked at me the way one looks a bird flying oblivious towards a closed
window, not being able to do anything but not being able to avert the gaze either.

That, more than anything, scared me.

For once the students were completely shocked into silence.

Hermione nudge me under the table and gave me a stare that seemed to say 'Well? Get moving! Find what we're
dealing with.' I nodded to her and got up, the scraping of the bench a scream in the silent room.

All eyes on me, I walked towards the head table where Dumbledore gestured almost absentmindedly towards the
door where the other champions had gone through. Guess that's that.

The room where the champions were waiting was dark, lit only by the fire of a hearth. All of them were absorbed in
their own thoughts, only noticing my entrance when the door closed loudly behind me. Delacour's pose became
instantly defensive and her mouth opened to say something, but Cedric was quicker.

"Harry? What's wong? Do they want us back?"

"It's... Complicated."

The door banged open, barely missing me in its arc, and in came the three headmasters and the ministry officials. Of
course, they would be shouting one over the other. I stood there, watching, for the most part, frankly not knowing
what to do, and waiting to be given some semblance of direction. Someone to be mad at, at the very least.

"Harry, my boy," The voice of Dumbledore silenced the room even with his gentle tone, he put his hands on my
shoulders and looked me in the eyes, "Did you in any way or form, directly or through any other means, entered your
name for the contest?"

"No, Sir, I did not." Dumbledore looked at me, his eyes shifting slightly, and his lips tightening in such a small gesture
that I would not have noticed it had we not been face to face. He did not believe me. After everything I've been
through did he think that I would want this? That I would-

The screams resumed, looking for someone to blame. The other champions had caught what was happening and
while Krum and Cedric were clearly not happy, Delacour looked positively murderous, sparks shooting from under her
sleeve, where I assumed her wand to be concealed.

"Enough! He has to compete; the Goblet is binding. On pain of death, all champions are to complete the tasks given
to them," Percy's boss said with finality.

"Of course! 'ogwarts would be given two chances at the cup!" The accented voice of the French headmistress
intoned, anger evident even with her face hidden in the shadows the small fireplace was too weak to dispel.

"They only get one," The statement shut everyone right up again. It looked as if everyone had forgotten I was there
too. "I'm not Hogwarts champion, that's Cedric there. I don't know how I would be classified but I can't be Hogwarts
champion since Cedric was chosen first."

"Then who would you represent?" Asked the Beauxbatons headmistress.

"I don't know. Myself?" I waved my hand in dismissal, "It doesn't matter, does it? You've made that quite clear," I
glared at the pompous little shite from the ministry.

"You say it like it's a chore to 'eld such 'onour. The chance of a lifetime!" said Delacour, her hair swinging with the
force of her declaration, eyes aflame as if responding to a personal insult.
"Maybe it will be the last chance of his lifetime lassie," Gravelled a voice from near the door. Moody. What a cheerful
fella.

Though to be fair to him, it was not an outlandish proposition.

"Throwing someone into the fighting pit is a nice way to have them killed without raising suspicion."

"I see you haven't gotten better with age Alastor," said Durmstrang's headmaster, a deprecative smile on his face,
"Who would want to kill off a child? And in such a convoluted way?"

"I think some of your old mates would be delighted, Igor."

"Alastor, that would be quite enough." Dumbledore cut in, the alluded still eying each other. "Harry will have to
compete as an independent champion."

"This competition is not meant for someone so young," I hadn't even noticed Professor McGonagall was in the room.
Her worried expression a contrast to her normal persona.

"Mr Potter- Harry you could very well die."

"Have a little faith Professor," I said with a wry smile, "It wouldn't be the first time something like this happens."

"Don't joke about this, Mr Potter!" She reprimanded and her face showed real concern, but she could not help but
fight the smile that peeked on the corner of her mouth.

The ministry bloke huffed indignant, trying to fill the room with his presence and remind everyone that originally there
was a purpose to the meeting before it was derailed by me.

"The tampering of the goblet of fire will be investigated fully, of that you can be sure." The pointed glare he sent my
way said enough about what the results of that investigation would be. "Now, if we have all agreed that the fourth
champion is to compete, then on to the first task."

"Mettle, and the ability to confront efficiently a dangerous and unknown situation are the marks of a great wizard. As
such we will not tell you what the task entails," the man glared at my snort, "you will be allowed only the use of your
wand. The task is set for November the 24th. All champions will be exempt from any classes they wish, to make time
for the tournament. You will also be exempt from having to take your NEWTS until the end of the summer, as to not
interrupt your focus on the tasks. Those of you not examining in NEWTS will simply be exempt from the end of year
exams. The champions are not to have any external help during the tasks, much less from their respective faculty
members. Breaking this rule can be seen as a breach of the contract with the Goblet. Any questions?"

I had to bite my tongue at that, but as no one asked a thing he nodded and left the room. After some muttering Krum
and his headmaster took their leave, followed by Delacour and her headmistress.

Dumbledore and McGonagall kept looking at me sadly when we were left alone in the room, they shared a significant
glance and Dumbledore went out, leaving me alone with Professor McGonagall.

"Mr Potter, I will not lie to you, this is a very dangerous situation you're in, but if anyone can come out of this the
better it's you. Just remember that even if I cannot help you directly, I'm still your Professor. If there is anything I could
help you with, be it an extracurricular question, advanced spellcasting, or really anything else, you know where my
office is."

Her vehemence and the obvious pride in her eyes and wavering smile made me embarrassed in a nice way. It was
nice to have Professor McGonagall rooting for me.

"Thank you, Professor. I'll have it in mind," I gave her a heartfelt smile, "I think you can expect me there soon."

"Then be on your way, Mr Potter, get some rest. And do try to not get into any more trouble."

"Monsieur, wait!" I hadn't taken ten steps from the door and I was already getting in trouble. Probably. Ah well,
Professor McGonagall should know better than to ask for the impossible.

"Yes, Delacour? Are you lost again?" Alright, maybe I was still a bit on edge because of this whole debacle. But one
thing was sure, I was not in the mood to deal with spoiled brats that-
Our eyes met, and her face did such an impressive change of expression that I could not help but feel bad at my
words. And believe me, I really tried not to.

"Nevermind," She said after a terse pause, her brow as furrowed as her lips. With a graceful move, she turned
towards the Hall's door.

I could really be a prat sometimes, for someone that's constantly on the other side of it.

"Wait, Delacour." She stopped, though I could see her deliberate with herself on whether to just go before shifting
towards me, though not entirely, just enough to face me. I really need to stop ruffling my hair every time I get nervous.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you, I'm just a tad... Jittery, I suppose, after all of this," I gestured towards
the room we had been in minutes ago, "I assumed you were going to be mad about the whole thing and jumped at
you. I shouldn't have."

"Why would you think that?" her hand flew to her chest, such a delicate gesture of discomfiture that I had to bite my
lip not to laugh. My cheeks decided to redden a bit too.

"Past experience. I don't tend to have many people on my side when things like this happen."

She lifted an eyebrow, "Finding yourself entered against your will in deadly tournaments is that common?"

That made me smile. "Not quite, heh, but not so far off either. It would be the first time I have competition though. Or
public."

She quirked her head to the side in a frankly endearing gesture of focus that reminded me of a curious puppy. Her
eyes though were so intent on mine that I felt my previous blush grow under the scrutiny.

"You are a strange man, 'Arry Potter."

"I've been through a strange life," I conceded her point, nodding sagely, "I would have thought you would be mad at
me for cheating," I said, calling her strange a bit more subtly.

"So, you admit to cheating?" She said cheekily, with a superior smile. She laughed at my half-hearted glare, "You
said you didn't do it to the face of Albus Dumbledore, not to mention Madame Maxime; if they believe you it is good
enough for me. I am upset at 'aving one more competitor, I won't lie, but I would not take it out on you if you are not to
blame."

"Well good, cause I didn't cheat. Didn't even want to enter. Honest."

"Even if you did that would only prove you are worthy of competing. Getting past all the security measures should be
beyond most wizards."

"I. Did. Not." She was being purposively dense. Flattering too, so I wasn't too sure if I wanted to feel insulted or not.

"All right, all right, I said I believed you." She gestured for me to calm down, and then looked towards both ends of the
hall as if looking for something, and biting her lower lip. Her fingers started to fidget with the edge of her shirt, in a
similar way as she did when she asked me for help earlier. "In any case, I just wanted to apologize. That's why I
called out to you."

My confusion must have shown in my face because she elaborated.

"For this morning. I shouldn't 'ave let my past experiences get the better of me, I ended up making unfair assumptions
about you. I thought you were lying about your name"

"What? Why?"

Her lips twitched into a small, fleeting smile, "Past experiences, it is what normally 'appens."

It was my turn to smile, "getting lost in old, haunted castles is all that common?"

"Not exactly, being pestered by entitled boys is. It was the first time I was wrong about it, though," she frowned as she
tried to wrap her tongue around that last word.

"So, we're both guilty of the same thing, eh?" I gave her a half smile.
"Looks like we are," her surprised face was really endearing too, even if it was clearly exaggerated. She smiled, "we
shunned each other for being similar."

"People normally relate to the other in those cases"

"I thought we 'ad agreed on your weirdness, Monsieur Potter."

Sod me if that didn't hit close to the heart. Even if I knew she didn't mean it like the Dursleys' I could not stop a bit of
bitterness from entering my voice. "That would make you weird too, then"

"The best people are," She said with her chin up in pride. That coerced another smile from me.

"We should get going," I cut into the companionable silence and glanced towards the doors of the Great hall, "it's
already past curfew."

"I do not 'ave a curfew, I am of age," said Fleur simply.

"Well lucky you," I grumbled. "I have to sneak around. Again."

"Its 'ard to believe you didn't cheat your way into the tournament when you say things like that."

"I may see your point," I said as we both walked towards the doors, chuckling.

As we got there she turned towards me. "The Carriage is on the grounds, I will see you around. It was a pleasure to
meet you, 'arry Potter."

"Likewise. At least this second time around," I smirked, "Good night, Fleur Delacour."

And with a smile, she went. I stood there until she got through the door and her retreating figure was lost in the cold
night of October.
*Chapter 4*: A Course of Action
Chapter 4

A Course of Action

Getting back to the common room was easy enough. No one was really patrolling the corridors so there was little
need to sneak around. I snorted, Delacour was right, I'd be lucky if anyone believed I had nothing to do with the
tampering of the Goblet. Not with my track record.

"Congratulations. It's an honour for the House of Gryffindor to have a Champion," said the portrait of the Fat Lady as
soon as I took my cloak off.

"It really isn't, Fat Lady. I'm not competing in the name of Hogwarts or Gryffindor," I said with a wry smile.

"Why in heavens not?!" The expression on the cherubesque face of the painting was completely indignant.

"Some loophole about only being three official Champions. And it wouldn't be fair, Cedric was chosen first. I'm
competing in my own name."

"Be that as it may, everyone knows where you belong," she said with finality

"Maybe," I said, not convinced, "Barghest."

At the sound of the password the painting turned on its hinges, cutting any further response from the Fat Lady.

And causing an explosion.

Or so I thought, until I got pulled in instead of blown out of the entrance. There was a huge celebration in the common
room, akin to the ones after a quidditch win.

How they managed in so short amount of time I don't know, but the whole room had been cleared of furniture that
was now all against the walls to make space for the party and the tables were full of snacks and drinks.

The twins lifted me on their shoulders, chanting 'We have a champion!' like a mantra, and everyone was either
cheering or chanting alongside them. I let them have their moment until everyone calmed down enough to let me
speak.

"I know most of you won't believe me, but I did not enter my name in the tournament," I rose my hands from where
they were trying to unknot the red and gold cape someone had wrapped over me at some point to make a pacifying
gesture at the sounds of protest from my housemates, "in any case I'm obliged to compete to the best of my abilities,"
The cheers renewed in kind, "Under pain of death, is how they worded it."

That certainly killed the mood of the room, "Maybe, for the others, this is about the glory and the money, they are
older, truly champions. They even look the part, all tall and beautiful. I'm just a scrawny kid trying to get by enough to
survive."

I hadn't meant to throw this pity party, but I guess I was just too tired. Just as I thought that, the weight of the day
finally crashed on my shoulders. And so, without another word, I turned my back on the now grim room and got to
bed.

It was bright already when I woke up, which in Scotland meant that it was way past the time I should have been up. I
frantically scrambled to my feet, thinking how delighted Snape was going to be with how late I was. And then I noticed
I was still wearing my robes from last night.

"Gods damn it," I cursed as I remembered the bollocked choosing. At least I could skive potions the whole year, if I
was going to die at least I didn't have to see the greasy git anymore. It was a fair trade, I suppose.

I was alone in the dormitories, as everyone was already in class, and the same held true for the common room. I
really didn't want to deal with the other students' reaction, I hadn't seen anyone outside of the Gryffs and Delacour
after the choosing, but I couldn't imagine the rest would be overjoyed. Specially the Hufflepuffs. I did need to speak to
Ron and Hermione though, so I covered myself on my father's cloak and set ways towards the dungeons.

Some twenty minutes later the doors to the potions classroom opened, releasing a gaggle of students amongst whom
I spotted a tall, red mop. Really, I don't know how we managed to sneak anywhere in the past; Ron was a walking red
flag. Thank the gods for my cloak.

I took off after him and Hermione, who was almost running to keep up with Ron while he stomped further into the
corridor.

"Come on Ron, you know he's telling the truth. This is just what happens every year."

Ron stopped so suddenly that I almost crashed into him "Exactly Hermione! Everything always goes to him! What
about us? We're always in the back, just 'Harry Potter's friends'. We're just the useless decoration. Everything gets
handed to him on a platter. Like he needed more fame or money," he spat, his hands clenched and his ears as red as
his hair.

I stood there, mouth half open, looking back and forth between my two best friends. My only friends. I couldn't believe
the little shite. Was that what he thought about me? He spoke with a bitterness I had never heard from him.

"You know he doesn't think that! Don't be dense Ron, he is the closest friend we have," Hermione held her tight fists
on her sides, a pleading expression on her face, "he is not some fantasy hero, he is famous for having horrible things
happen to him! And we have been with him on most of those!"

"Oh, how terrible. I'm famous, I'm the youngest seeker ever, I'm rich!"

"I'm rich too!" Hermione spat, eyes burning, "My parents are really well off. Everything I wanted I had. I grew up in a
huge, beautiful house. An empty house Ronald! I never had any friends, my parents were always working, I would
give all to have brothers that care for me half as much as yours. And you think Harry, who has had it worse than me,
would care about those things you say more than he cares about us? About you?" I had never heard Hermione sound
so emotional, her anger dissipating into a tired sadness, "You don't know what you have. You don't know what it's like
to be alone."

"You don't know what it's like to never be alone. Never be Ron, just one of the Weasleys." Ron stormed off leaving
Hermione sniffing around her tears and me rooted to the spot, not really knowing what to do.

Eventually, Hermione ran off holding back tears, leaving me alone in the dungeons.

One of the perks of being invisible is that people don't stop talking about you when you enter a room, so on my slow,
depressed walk towards the black lake I could gather well enough the reaction of the school -and the visitors- towards
my choosing.

The drawback of invisibility though, is that people don't stop talking about you when you are within hearing range, so
the more I walked and the more I heard, the more depressed I got.

It seemed like this was not going to be an easy year. Most people thought me a miserable piece of trash that had no
respect for even his peers and would do anything to rekindle an old and dying fame. Others, particularly Gryffindors,
lauded me a hero, which only served to draw more animosity from the former group.

To top it all off I didn't even know if I had any friends anymore. Ron certainly made it very clear how he felt, and
Hermione was bound to be bitter towards me for putting her in the middle, however unwittingly. And despite the
Gryffindor's attitude I just didn't feel comfortable in their midst, their claims of glory by proxy, and their overly
boisterous attitude making me anxious something fierce. I could not feel welcomed.

I sighed, throwing a stone towards the lake.

"Gods damned tournament."

One thing was clear, I was going to have all the free time I needed to devour the library. Which was something I was
going to have to do if I wanted to survive. This was going to be like an exam after all, I thought smiling to myself, only
you pass or you die. Nice.

Hermione said that the first task of the last tournament was a fight against a creature, so maybe I should first find out
what was done in previous tournaments. It would at least give me an idea of what to prepare for. So, history books.

"Ugh," I groaned as I skipped another stone across the tranquil face of the lake. Well, at least history always
managed to numb my brain. I could use the distraction.

The lake reflected what little sun managed to forge its way through the dense clouds, creating a gold pattern on the
dark waters. It was hard to keep focus with such a hypnotic background.

A throng of Beauxbatons students flowed out of that main Gates of the castle at that moment and headed towards the
patch of forest where Hagrid's hut was, forking away from the lake and myself, the hum of their distant conversation
catching my ear.

"At least that's one of the champions that doesn't outright hate me," I muttered to myself. Delacour had been nice
enough after we cleared the air. Competing against her would hopefully be more like a friendly rivalry. Like quidditch
against the Ravenclaws, maybe. Not like I would be much competition against her. Or any of the others, to be fair.
And not like Cedric or Krum would be too friendly. Hmmm, I suppose that makes it more similar to the quidditch cup.

I really needed to stop thinking in circles. I have to focus, prepare. Everything else will come as it will and I will face it.
As always.

With that thought, I started walking towards the library.

Written information on the tournament was not hard to find, I had five books with me after a cursory visit towards the
Medieval Post-Founders History section of the library.

Thanks to Binn's curriculum this part of the library was mostly empty, so I made myself comfortable in the crock of
one of the big tinted windows amongst my pile of books and set to reading. The titles were not very inspiring, with the
exception of 'Blood and gl'ry. A celebration of the British Isles most laud'd champions'. Of course, a lot of those
celebrations were made posthumously, so there's that.

In any case, the tasks were set to test bravery, intelligence and magical puissance. Each one had a focus on one of
these things, while not exactly excluding the others. The first task most of the times seemed to circle around facing
something dangerous, commonly a creature. The objective of the champion was to sometimes fight the creature, or
manage to focus on something else while facing the dangerous beast.

The details were too random to consider. Sometimes the champion had to hide for a certain amount of time, retrieve
something guarded by the creature, protect a bound friend from said creature or any other number of things. The task
could also be held on water or flying, though land-based tasks were substantially more common. What I gathered
from the first task was that I would most likely have to fight something big and scary, nothing so out of the ordinary
then. But this time, this time I would go prepared.

"Harry?"

Measuring by how high I jumped from where I was sitting you would not think I would do well in a test of bravery, but I
had been so engrossed in the book that I didn't notice my bushy-haired friend sneaking on me.

I looked at her, standing a bit away from me, hands on her back, worrying her lip like she does when she thinks she
did badly on an exam.

"Yes?" I said, a wariness I had almost manage to forget cracking my already dry voice, the whole day of silence
having taking some toll.

"Have you been here all day?" her eyes roamed over my pile of books and the parchment where I was taking notes.

"Not all day. Since lunch."

"You weren't at the Great Hall," Hermione had never been so nervous when speaking to me. Neither had I ever not
know how to answer her, that more than anything was messing with my nerves.

"I didn't feel like dealing with everyone's reaction. I had enough of it earlier," I flushed, not knowing if in anger or
embarrassment, I lowered my face. Scratch that, I thought as my lips tightened, just the doubt inflamed my anger.

"Oh, Harry," Next thing I know I'm trapped in a Hermione death-hug, tears falling on my shoulder, and my anger left
me. After a breath I returned her hug and held her as she cried, glad that I had not lost both of my best friends.

"Thank you for believing me," I muttered into her mane, "It means the world to me."

She pulled away and sat next to me, rubbing her eyes to hide the tears. "Don't be stupid Harry, you know I trust you,"
I looked away in shame, "You know that don't you?"

"Yeah, it's just- Well I went looking for you and Ron this morning since I couldn't find you last night."

"You heard us."

"I was under the cloak."

She bit her lip, "You should talk to him"

"I won't go looking for that git, he said enough already," My temper mounted again, as I remembered his words.
Earlier I had been just hurt, now I was mad, "After everything, everything! And he throws it all away in a temper
tantrum like a sodding baby. He wants to be famous so much? Well good! He can go in this bloody tournament and
fucking die for all I care."

"Harry stop, you are scream-"

"And weren't you supposed to be mad at him too?" I pointed an accusing finger towards her, bumping the stack of
books, "you were screaming at him too."

"Stop. I am mad at him Harry, but I also know that he doesn't mean it. And just because he's being stupid it doesn't
mean I stopped loving him, same as you. He's jealous, and he will regret what he said once he processes what he
feels."

"Well he can eat his processed bullshite if he likes."

"Now who is being childish?"

"I don't care. I will not speak a word to Ron. And gods help him if he tries to say a word to me."

A disappointed huff was my only answer, "I cannot blame you. But I know you'll regret it too, I know you well enough
to know you're not mad. Not really."

"Then what am I? Huh? Enlighten me with your brilliance," Her frown was enough to cut me off.

"It's not my job to 'process your bullshit' as you say, you'll realise it later. And I think we have more pressing matters,"
She gestured towards the books that now laid sprawled on the floor, "They are making you compete right?"

I nodded, letting the issue drop, "I was trying to find out what to do to start preparing. I cannot go in blind this time."

"Hum," she allowed, gaze lost in thought, "From what I've read you should probably prepare to fight something –"

"Or evade it. I gathered as much. The beasts they have used before have been absolutely bonkers. Cerberus,
cockatrices, armanites, even sphinxes."

"Let's hope there are no Sphinxes," said Hermione, shuddering. She looked thoughtful for a moment, "What do you
have to do?"

"I don't know. They only told us it's supposed to 'test our mettle' whatever that means."

"It means they want you to go unprepared."

I lifted one eyebrow, "I know."

"Oh," She blushed a bit, "It's a shame. Each of those creatures can be faced safely if you know how. A Cerberus can
be charmed with music as we did with Fluffy, cockatrices and armanites are not all that resistant to magic and are
really afraid of fire and cold respectively. And if you have to face a sphinx you could- "

"Run?" I said incredulously. Sphinxes were one of the most dangerous creatures you could find.
"Well, yes. I'm sure I can find a spell that helps you run really fast," Her lip quirked with humour.

"Oh, that's all better then," I glared while fighting down a smile of my own.

"We will figure it out, Harry," A sad smile on her face, "We always do."

I returned her smile, with a pang in my chest when I realized that 'us' meant she and I only, this time.

Author's Note

Well people, I don't have anything else written from this point up to the first task. So next update may take a week or
two. I'm trying to go for longer chapters. For the reviewer who said that he's surprised how easily Harry accepted his
entrance on the tournament, well let's just say that he has learned to take things in stride.

Besides he is resigned in a way to always have to endure a life of danger. He's not happy, and I think I made that
obvious in this chapter, but he is not surprised so he doesn't feel so affected. Ron's words on the other hand where
entirely unexpected and shook him, and I don't know if I managed to convey that well enough.

Khaire dear readers, until the next chapter

*Chapter 5*: A Step Towards The Future
Chapter 5

A Step Towards the Future

"I told you this was not a good idea."

If anyone at Hogwarts apart from the teachers had any proficiency with wandless magic I would be a puddle of melted
flesh by now. It took but for me to step through the threshold for the whole of the Great Hall to drop into mutterings
and glares. Everyone seemed to have something to say to their neighbours.

The silence did not last long, and so the cheers from the Gryffindor table were murdered out by the loud boos of the
rest, and even if the foreigners seemed to be more polite, their faces showed the same sentiment. It took the gentle
command of Dumbledore for them to stop.

"The other Gryffindors don't mind."

I threw a glance in Ron's direction. "I wouldn't say that."

"Well, most Gryffindors don't care."

I sighed at my best friends' stubbornness, "I appreciate you trying Hermione, but I think it will be best if I spend as
little time as possible here. I'll see you later ok? At the common room."

With that I turned on my heels and made to leave, not before grabbing a decent stack of toast, thankful that the
Hufflepuff table was farthest from mine.

As I was walking towards the entrance a glint of light on pale gold caught my seeker eyes. I turned, almost on instinct,
and realized it was Delacour's hair. She caught me looking her way and sent me a small smile which I couldn't help
but return.

With that and a small nod, I was on my way.

My walk towards the library saw itself interrupted almost immediately as a flash of fire materialized a few meters
ahead, and from it fell a small scroll. Curious I approached it, and to no one's surprise, it was addressed to me.

Dear Mr Potter

In light of recent events, I find myself in the need of having a more in-depth conversation with you,

and in a more private environment than the one we had after the champion's selection.

Please be in my office as soon as you are able after receiving this letter.

Albus P. W. B Dumbledore.

I sighed while looking at the piece of parchment, of course, I was not going to be let off so easy. Dreading what the
headmaster would want I took off towards where I remembered his office to be.

I probably would have to serve detention. And Gryffindor was going to lose a fuck ton of house points. I may even get
expelled! Sure, Dumbledore had always been lax about the things I did at Hogwarts, like the flying car Ron and I
crashed in second year, but maybe this was just too much.

I couldn't get expelled right? I had to compete in the tournament. Then again, I was not representing Hogwarts, so
maybe it didn't matter. Maybe I would stay for the tournament and then be asked to leave.

It was with these heavy thoughts that I got to stand in front of the gargoyle guarding the entrance to the headmaster's
office.

Its pupil-less eyes moved towards me, startling me, and then it tilted its head as if assessing me. After a tense
moment, it stepped aside, showing the stairs behind it.

Stairs that started moving up as soon as my feet touched them, leaving me standing in front of a door that opened on
its own after a brief flash.

Dumbledore's grasp of magic could be seen even on things that should be mundane, his office reacting as if it was
alive and thinking. Of course, as wondrous a display as it was, it only served to make me more nervous.

The door opened to the circular room I remembered from my second year, filled with books, parchment and all
manner of things emitting small noises and puffs of smoke. The man himself was sitting behind his desk, writing on a
piece of parchment.

"Ah, Harry. I see you are more punctual than most other students. Take a seat, please," He said as he noticed me,
gesturing towards, strangely, a sofa opposite him, instead of the usual stiff chair most Professors favoured.

I sat.

"Only when the stairs behave, Professor."

"That is one of the most overused excuses I've had the privilege of hearing in this room, but I can never dismiss it in
good faith," Dumbledore's eyes were full of mirth, "not when I've been the stairs' victim so many times."

I smiled an awkward, forced smile. It was obvious that the Headmaster was trying to ease my nerves, but it wasn't
working and he knew it.

"Well, Harry, I think you can imagine the reason I called you here."

"The selection of the champions?" I said, my nervousness seeping further into my tone.

"Indeed. It's a very unfortunate situation, and in a way, it is my fault for not thinking about that particular fail safe.
Thought I must have to admit that it would only have warded the cup against you, and I would never have thought you
to be one to try and enter a dangerous competition without reason."

There it was again, the disappointed look he gave me the day of the selection.

"You do realize that you are putting yourself in a position similar to that of your second year? Not only because of the
reactions from your peers but because of-" a flash of pain crossed his face as he abruptly stopped, "because of the
trials ahead"

I blanched remembering the ruined eyes of the basilisk as it's fang tore through my arm as easily as a sword, and the
pain of the venom.

"You think I wanted to enter Sir? I wanted to have a quiet year, meet more people, have fun, play quidditch. Now it's
just the same as always. At least I had an early warning this time."

I sat glumly on the, very comfortable, sofa under the scrutinizing gaze of Albus Dumbledore. His eyes searched mine
for a while no doubt thinking my broody attitude to be childish, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

After a bit, his gaze softened and he let out a sigh and a small laugh, "I must apologize Mr Potter. Most men equate
power with wisdom, but I'm a living example this is not so." He rubbed his brow, "I took your quite unique means, and
a motive I assumed, and blamed you for something you didn't do."

"So, I'm not getting expelled?"

"That was never on the table my boy, you have an almost supernal talent for breaking rules with loopholes that favour
you," he smiled fondly, in the same way Mr Weasley does when the Twins are causing havoc, "You broke no school
rules, so you can't be expelled. You broke tournament rules, but as a champion, you are bound to compete so you
can't be expelled from it."

That right there was how my luck worked. Incredibly well, for the outcome that I did not want.

"You say I had means and a motive," I asked as my brain tried to draw meaning from that, "what means I could have
to overcome your magic? I mean just look at this office. This is way out of my league, and this are mere plaything to
you, surely," I said as I gestured around the office.
Dumbledore seemed to deliberate, his demeanour becoming a bit more serious for a moment, and his blue eyes
looking at me over weathered, interlaced fingers "Your father's cloak Harry. It hides more than just your body. As I
said, warding against it specifically would have been unnecessary since there are no others like it, and I would not
have thought you would try to enter. As for the motive, it got into my mind that maybe you would want to earn
recognition through your own feats and as so not be known anymore for the sacrifice of your parents."

I did not respond for a moment. I could not. Not until my jaw returned to it's normal place. I can't believe something so
simple had not passed through my head. The winner of the tournament would be remembered as so for the rest of his
life. No more boy-who-lived, no more gawking at my scar. I would be acclaimed because of my deeds. I could do this
too, I had killed a basilisk before with no preparation, I had faced Voldemort more than once.

Realization must have shown in my face, for Dumbledore smiled sadly at me with soft twinkling eyes, "Alas, it
appears as though my plan for you to fail the tasks in the safest way possible has just been sabotaged by my own
assumptions."

I blushed at being so easy to read, "I guess so. I think there's no way I would just give up anyways. If people would
speak of me let them speak of my strength, of greatness, not of cowardice. I think that's something you can
understand. It would be worse than it already is." Pettigrew the coward came to mind, causing a flood of rage to pass
through me, "I've seen were that leads, and I would never go there."

For a moment, inexplicable fear flashed through the eyes of the Headmaster, his face paling. But that didn't make any
sense, did it? I must have imagined it.

"Then I can only wish you luck and give you some advice. Be prepared Harry, don't waste any time you can use to
learn and to prepare. The results will be more severe than just a T in an exam. And even with the reaction of most
people, remember you are never truly alone. Never forget that."

I chuckled, feeling lighter, ideas and feelings that had been twisting and turning in my head having calmed after being
named. Acknowledged. One thing was clear though "No one is going to believe me, right? Everyone is going to think
the same thing you did, or that I'm a spoiled brat trying to eclipse everyone else. And it's as Fleur said, with my history
of sneaking around and breaking rules everyone will just assume I did it again."

"Miss Delacour?" Asked Dumbledore with surprise.

"Yes, we spoke after the selection."

"I dare say Miss Delacour is cleverer than most will give her credit for," Who would say that someone as old as Albus
Dumbledore could look so mischievous? "And as I said, there will always be someone there for you. You only need to
find the strength to ask. "I blushed, more out of embarrassment than any truth to Dumbledore's new unfounded
assumption. "I would not take any more of your time Mr Potter, go enjoy your day."

"Good day Headmaster," I said with a smile as I got up and went to the door.

"Wait, Mr Potter," I turned just as the door was opening by itself, "You forgot this book in one of your classes. I offered
to return it to you since you were coming this morning. "

I took the proffered book, an old tome fraying at the spine. I frowned as I examined it, I had not been to any class yet.
"I don't think this is-" I interrupted myself when I saw the look Dumbledore was giving me.

"It's yours," He said with finality.

I opened it and on the first page read 'A.P.W.B.D' in the same flowing script of the flaming letter I was summoned
here with. Realization hit me like a bludger. There was only one person with so many names.

"Thank you, sir," I said, now holding the book more carefully.

"There's nothing to thank me for, my boy. Just take care of yourself," Dumbledore looked at the book with a fondness
normally reserved for old friends.

If at that moment someone had said to me that by some ridiculous story Albus Dumbledore was really my grandfather
it wouldn't have been unbelievable. Dumbstruck would be a good way to describe how I felt.

As it was I could only nod in acknowledgement of the feeling, my wits too slow to do anything else, and leave the
room clutching the book close to me.
*Chapter 6*: Aux Nouveaux Amis
Chapter 6

Aux Nouveaux Amis

At first, I thought Dumbledore's gift was only a show of good faith. Sure, it would be filled with powerful magic and
clever spells but nothing within the grasp of a competent fourth year, much less me. I was only partially right. The
spells written within those decaying leather covers were a reminder of the wonder of magic that I sometimes forgot in
the erosive passing of the everyday. A single look in those pages was a reminder, a warning, a goal.

Despite the power they held, none of the spells appeared to be complex beyond reason, they were in fact, if not
simple, at least attainable.

Thanks to my very special cloak to I had managed to spend a week scourging the library and avoid everyone, getting
my hand on every piece of combat magic that was mildly interesting, spells that would allow me to react quicker, give
me increase resistance to damage and anything more that would give me even the slightest advantage.

I didn't know what the first task would be after all, but the headmaster had given me a really good clue when he
compared this year to my second year.

"This year will be difficult not only because of your peer's reaction but for the challenges ahead," I repeated to myself.

The parallel was quite clear. I was an outcast once again to everyone but a few, just as I was when I was rumoured to
be Slytherin's heir. What happened next? I had to fight huge, dangerous magical creatures. The way Dumbledore had
looked when he said it made it clear he had been thinking of the basilisk. I had severe doubts it was going to be a
basilisk. First, they were illegal to breed, I checked. In multiple sources to be sure. Then, it would kill everyone in the
stands unless they blinded it beforehand, and fighting a blinded beast did not seem like something that would align
well with the image of gold and glory the tournament seemed to be trying to build up to.

I have found several useful spells so far. There was one that would make me resistant to certain things, like fire or
acid, another such one would cure any non-magical poison if cast powerfully enough; I had also found several types
of shield, some of which protected against magical effects, other against more mundane threats. The problem was
that even though I had managed to cast all these spells consistently after practicing with Hermione, they were reliant
on the power behind the casting. This is where my age started to become an obstacle. I could cast all shields with
enough power that Hermione wasn't able to hit me with almost anything during our practice as long as I didn't lose
focus. But as a rule, sorcerers became more powerful the older they grew.

The memory of my misadventures with Ron on the Forbidden Forest made clear that even if I were to have a right
arsenal at my wand tip a creature like an acromantula would just shrug it off and keep scampering to joyously snap
my legs off. It was only dumb luck that the Ford came to our rescue and managed to fly us-

I froze. The answer had been staring me right in the face the whole time, I just had to-

"I would not 'ave took you for such a devoted reader."

I heard my neck snap as I turned to the sound of the oddly familiar voice. Fleur Delacour stood in the small space
between the bookcases, a half-smile on her face as her eyes roamed over the place.

I had made myself a bit of a camp on a corner of the forbidden section of the library, and I likely looked like a
homeless man. A tall window stood in one of the walls, the other lined with bookshelves on various stages of
deterioration; with the help of Dumbledore's book I had transfigured one of the old chairs into a colourful sofa that was
as eccentric as it was comfortable, complete with matching footrest. Hermione had cast her signature 'safe' fire into a
brazier I had stolen from one of the unused classrooms and I had moved a table and a couple of chairs from another
section of the library. Adorning all of this, was an assortment of sweaters and robes I had been too lazy to put back
on my trunk.

"When people say 'Take up camp in the library' I did not know they meant it so literally."

"Well, I do have to make up for three years of education. And there's also the small fact of preparing for the 'test of
mettle'."
"It looks like you are preparing for a fight." She picked up 'Shields and Wards f'r the Errant Adventur'r' from where it
was lying on the floor.

"I think it wise, given the history of the tournament. How did you even find me?"

"I was looking around the library, seeing where things are you know, and I saw a fire burning. I am a curious woman."
She shrugged a single perfunctory shoulder. Her wandering gaze fell upon the pile of blankets of the floor next to the
fire. " 'ave you been sleeping 'ere? Non, sorry. I should not 'ave asked." Her eyes turned to mine, and her voice belied
both surprise and abashment.

"It's peaceful here," I shrugged back, turning towards the window to avoid her eyes. "I am not well received almost
anywhere else."

Well, that did not sound bitter at all.

I tried to focus on the floating leaves that passed by, but I could not shake the weight of her stare. I stayed in silence,
nevertheless, and so did she. It would surely only be a few moments before that same thoughtless shrug adorned her
shoulders and she left.

"It may not be my place to do so, but let me tell you something, monsieur. The acceptance of others is not a measure
of your worth, or should it be a measure of how you accept yourself."

I turned to her, and this time she was nothing if not firm on her stance, a very small v shaped crease taking over her
brows. It was now my turn to really look at her.

"What is that benchmark of worth, then? What if not your community?"

"Should there be someone there to tell you 'ow good you are? No one will ever see you as his better, people are
selfish and jealous. If you wait for someone's judgement you will always come up second best."

"Aren't you maybe being a bit cynical? I think that says as much about you as about the rest."

"Maybe," she granted moving to sit on the floor next to the fire, "It certainement says something about my experience,
I 'ave no reasons to think otherwise. And I 'ave 'eard what they say about you. Believe me, they are only making
noise to feel important. Yet they know that no matter 'ow much noise they make they will fade and you will not. It irks
them, and so they bite," She shook her head, her beret shifting precariously, "In the end it does not matter."

"And what does matter then?" Our positions had reversed, and so focused was I on her distracted profile as she saw
the dancing blue of the fire that it was almost unseemly. I shifted my gaze to the fire too.

"Actions. Actions are selfless, you can see the measure of someone by 'ow they act when there is little time to
consider otherwise."

We stood silent for a few more moments, the peaceful, distant sounds of the library swirling in the air.

"Why are you saying all this to me?" I said as I sat on the pile of blankets facing her, "Why do you care?" Her words
had merit on their own, but it was clear that they held a different kind of weight for her.

She looked at me for a long moment, unwavering, and I could not help but notice how clear her eyes were. Her face
turned back to the fire, the blue tinting her pale hair "I don't know. Maybe I would 'ave wanted someone to say these
things to me a couple of years back; It would 'ave 'elped me greatly." Her eyes turned towards me again, a small
smile on her face, " It's not so different from the things they say about me, saving the obvious differences. It's
refreshing to speak to someone who understands, for a change."

"You been through something like this?"

"Everyday." She laughed with little humour. "We are different from most Monsieur Potter, each in our own way, and
the majority doesn't like that, especially when we are set apart to be better. People will see you fail and cheer
because it makes them feel better about their own shortcomings."

"So, no one is worth the trouble is what you say? We walk alone forever? I don't know if I would want that." The last
week has proved to be one of the saddest I've had while at Hogwarts.

"For a while. Until we find others who are different too," Her voice was soft, almost a sight instead of words, and she
looked suddenly vulnerable. "Misery likes company, as they say."

And to think that my first impression of her had been that of an aloof and cold woman.

"And we are equal, then? The same type of miserable? Is that why you approached me?"

"I don't know," she shrugged her petite shoulders, "I know that you listen, that you understand certain things that most
people don't. I know that the Goblet chose you, same as me. Equals? We will 'ave to wait till the first task to see,
won't we?" She smiled a mischievous smile and I snorted, "But I think that we could try to be friends."

"I'd like that. Maybe our friendship would last until I win. You don't seem the kind of person that would take well to
defeat," I said amused.

"If you win fairly, I would accept it with grace," she said with as much dignity as she could muster. "I am not blind to
my own shortcomings, few as they are," her dignity evaporated in a teasing smile. "So, let the best Witch win," she
said while extending her hand, which I took.

"I think you meant 'the best one.'"

"I said what I meant."

Her smile was one that sent shivers down my spine. Her serious, regal persona may aim to be intimidating, but that
mischievous smile hid a lot more danger. One thing I had no doubt about, Fleur Delacour was a proud witch, and I
could hardly blame her. After all, had she not been chosen as the best Beauxbatons had to offer? And unlike me, that
actually meant something in her case.

"Harry?"

For a secluded corner of the Restricted Section, I was getting an awful number of visitors. Not only that, they were
managing to sneak up on me. Hermione stood just where Fleur had not but a few moments before looking about as
confused as she had, if considerably more suspicious, her eyes quickly flitting between Fleur and me and our hands
clasped in a handshake.

Hermione's face held not a drop of mystery to me, not even when she tried. And she was definitely not trying now.

"Hermione, this is Fleur Delacour, fellow champion. Fleur, this is Hermione Granger, my best friend." I gestured,
trying to answer both questioning faces.

"Enchanté."

"Likewise."

Judging by the way they were looking at each other nothing could be farther from the truth. Hermione clearly didn't
like her, and Fleur's dismissive up and down glance at her said enough about her opinion.

"Anyway, I 'ave to go." Fleur said after a moment of tense silence, 'I'll see you around Monsieur. Think about what I
said." With a last look at Hermione, she walked away, the eyes of my remaining friend glued to her back.

"You are staring Herms," She turned sharply towards me, lips taut.

"What was she doing here?" She asked brusquely.

"She saw the fire and came to investigate, found my little hobo corner."

"I don't like her," she crossed her arms as if that settled the matter.

"Really? I couldn't tell," It was always amusing when tiny Hermione tried to be intimidating, even from where I was
sitting on the floor, "I don't think she likes you all that much either."

Hermione dropped with a huff in the space Fleur had just vacated.

"She was just being friendly," I scratched my forehead and closed my eyes for a second, "Having at least one
champion not hate me may improve my survival chances, don't you think?"

"It may also lead you into a trap."

"Now you are just being paranoid."

"Just keep your eyes open, unless you can't stop ogling. I don't trust her."

"Alright, alright. I'll be wary and paranoid with you. And I don't ogle. It was you with the eyes glued to her back, not
me." I glared at her. "Now listen, I had an idea," I leaned forward, "About the First Task. Remember how we said my
best bet would be to try and avoid the danger?" She nodded, as alert now as she was in class. "Well, it's obvious.
How else can I move faster and more agile than in a broom?"

I smiled as Her eyes shifted from surprise to pondering focus. "That could definitely work. Nothing would come close
to you with how fast you broom is. And if the beast, or whatever it is that you have to face, can't fly you would be
completely safe. Even if the task is an outright fight you could shoot spells from a secure distance." Her bad humour
forgotten for the moment she clapped her hands, eyes bright, "You cannot take the broom to the task, but that can be
solved with a summoning charm. We only have to perfect that and get some offensive spells down. It should be no
problem."

When you start Hermione's gears, they are fairly hard to stop, and so we spent the rest of the day making a list of
possible spells and summoning books from across the aisles. She wanted a well-rounded spell list, appealing to the
fact that I still didn't know what type of creature I would face. I just wanted things that hit hard, because even a well-
rounded spell list could mean none of the spells were useful. Variety was not a guarantee for usefulness.

This tournament was shaping to be one hell of a nightmare.

The next few days were spent practicing spells in abandoned classrooms and corridors, fleeing the places when the
noise drew too much attention, and talking with Fleur. That last point had certainly been a surprise; I had hardly
expected to speak again with her, much less so constantly. She always seemed to find me at some point in the day.

I love Hermione, I really do, but Fleur was the light of those days before the task. We spoke of everything but the
tournament, and such distraction was a welcome breath of fresh air that left me feeling more than slightly guilty at the
end of the day, if longing for the same respite the next day. Her apparent lack of care about the whole thing was
encouraging too, but I never let myself forget that even if she had reason in her confidence, I could not give myself
the same luxury.

We swapped stories of our times at school, of our families, our pastimes, and I knew she noticed the censoring of my
anecdotes, and the momentary hesitation as I shared them, but she did not ask, and she did not seem to care too
much. That more than anything I was grateful for.

It was no wonder Fleur disliked the castle as much as she did; for all she spoke, Beauxbatons sounded like the polar
opposite of Hogwarts; a delicate palace of glass and marble where everything was where it was with the sole reason
of aesthetic perfection. It was warm all year round, which also explained how ill-prepared its students were for the
Scottish weather.

She was in a foreign place, her few friends all back home, her room, a place that she held as a shelter from the world
equally as far. She was adrift and bereft of shelters amongst the worst parts of a world she thought had learned to
control long before. Being the tallest nail could bloody suck, and that much I could emphasize with.

The lack of a daily owl home was one of the things that seemed to weigh on her most heavily.

I got a glance at what this year could have been as I walked around dusty, forgotten halls of the castle. This was what
I had wanted from the beginning, the chance to just make more friends, study and play quidditch without having to
worry, finally seeing someone else deal with the spotlight that burned with a dangerous heat in this world. The former,
I thought, I had at least managed. Despite how recent our acquaintance, I already thought of Fleur as a friend.

She was proud and more than a bit arrogant, but not cruel. Coarse sometimes, if anything, but her rougher edges
were a lot duller from up close than they seemed from a distance. Our talk that day in the library seemed to have
brought a warmer side of her that, judging by the reaction her fellow countrymen had to seeing her laugh, was not
common. It was hard for me to even match the things people said about her with her face in my mind, a face that
more often than not carried a witty and mischievously sly smile.

And as we are on the things people said about Fleur, for all the things I had seen of her in those two hectic weeks
there was nothing I could do to convince Hermione that she was not planning anything sinister. She disliked her with
an irrational passion that was very unlike the normally rational Gryffindor girl. In a way, I could understand Hermione's
distrust, after all Fleur had not given her any reasons to think she was not a stuck-up brat always in the centre of
attention, and she had taken exception to Fleur's criticism of Hogwarts.

"You seem very far away."

I shook my head to clear the dizziness, "Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking."

"It looked 'ard."

"Prat," I smiled at her tinkling laugh.

"What 'ad you risking injury?" she gathered her long hair over one shoulder as it rose with a gust of wind.

I looked over the distant mountains that could be seen from our perch on a window of the astronomy tower, "Just
thinking about the last weeks. I think I've never studied so hard since getting to Hogwarts." I smiled at the thought,
learning so many spells so fast made me feel proud. Especially since I had managed to cast a couple from
Dumbledore's diary with a reasonable degree of success.

"I also have this new friend; I think you would like her. She is a bit stuck up though, and doesn't get on well with my
other friend, but she always knows what to say when I need it."

I looked over at her and she had her gaze lost on the mountains too, her dangling feet tapping the wall under one of
the -overenlarged- winter cloaks she had stolen from me a while ago.

"Cat got your tongue?"

"Only trying to come up with an answer to your compliment that won't sound stuck up," she smiled a rueful smile.

"Zis is one of moi best traits," I said, lifting my chin, with a mocking French accent that got me slapped with the
oversized cuff of the cloak that was now clearly her's.

"Does it bother you?" She asked, the spontaneous smile that had taken over her face rolling back as if a tide took it,
"That I don't get along with your friend?"

"A bit. It bothers me more the way Hermione acts towards you. It's not like her. Of course, it doesn't help that you
keep piquing her." She blushed at my remark.

"I can't 'elp it. She acts like every other petty, jealous girl." Fleur flipped her hair with a dainty hand.

"She is not jealous. Why would she even be?"

Fleur looked at me her brows arched down and her soft expression pitying. "If I tell you you'll only get mad. Let's just
say that 'er 'best friend' is spending more time with me than with 'er. And 'er other friend becomes a drooling idiot
when 'e is within five meters of me."

I huffed in exasperation, they were each as stubborn as the other. "If you got to know each other as we have you
would realize you have a lot in common."

"If you say so," she said as she lifted her chin, eyes closed. I sighed again, stubborn indeed. "De toute façon, I 'eard
there's a quaint village near the castle?"

"Yes, Hogsmeade. It's very pretty, especially in winter."

"What is it with you Britanniques and Hogs?" She seemed genuinely bewildered; I could only laugh at her expression.

"You know, I think I have the perfect place in mind if you want to go."

"Oh? Then maybe we should go," It was lucky that I was already blushing from the cold. Going with Fleur to
Hogsmeade would really get people talking, even more so if we went to the shady Hogshead.

"Maybe after the First Task, we'll have more time."

"I will hold you to that Monsieur. And whomever losses the task pays!"

She smiled bright and broad just as a ray of sunshine hit her face, turning her fairness iridescent.
"You have a deal, Miss," I said, at once looking forwards to the first task now and at the same time terrified my
attempt to dodge that bullet had not worked as expected.

The refractions of the cheerful sun on her eyelashes made a very effective distraction to such thoughts, and it was
when she threw a furtive glance from the corner of her eye that I looked away.

"I couldn't 'elp but notice you moved." I turned back at her, confused at the sudden non-sequitur. "I went to your
corner in the library and it was clear. No sofa and no fire."

"Oh, I found a quieter place, less likely to be interrupted by nosy blondes." She huffed in mock outrage. "I will show it
to you later, I'm sure you'll like it."

"You sure? I am blonde after all. Unless you are only 'iding from that blond boy who's always pinning after you."

The mere thought of Malfoy pinning after me made the fall from the astronomy tower more enticing. "You are putting
suicidal thoughts in my head." It was a testament to our strange sense of humour that she giggled at that.

"Alright Mon Ami, I'll visit your 'umble abode if it gives you the strength to live."

"Mon Ami?"

She avoided my eyes. "It means my friend."

I smiled looking at the gardens down below in my own shyness. "Well, of course then, Mon Ami." I said, deliberately
butchering the pronunciation, "It will be an honour."

Friend.

Funny how such a simple word could carry such weight sometimes, I thought as a smile fought to manifest in my
face.
*Chapter 7*: The Weight of Expectations
Chapter 7

The Weight of Expectations

The drafty windows reflected the viridian light of the flames that were keeping Fleur's bare feet toasty, her toes
wiggling happily as she read a book. Her eyes held absolute focus on the pages in front of her, which were a mystery
to me. She refused adamantly to let me near it, and the plain cover did not give me any clues. I had my own little
secret book though, so who was I to reproach her.

We sat in my new quarters, as it were, which were nothing more than the clocktower room. Were the clock
functioning like normal this would have been the room from where any maintenance to it may be done, but as the
clock was heavily enchanted to last as long as the stones that held it, it was never used.

It took me a bit to find it and move all my stuff -including the stolen table and chairs- to it, but it was perfect for privacy
and it had more than a small amount of charm with it's steady mechanical hum in the background and its
multicoloured windows always tinting the light differently. The view of the courtyard from behind the clock face was
quite nice too.

The warmth of my eccentric sofa enveloped me as I read old tournament accounts. I had to admit it made for good
reading, at least when I managed to forget I would probably have to do something similar, of course. The stories
about the former champions and their exploits, the dangers, the suspense and their clever solutions, their bravery. It
was inspiring, like reading an adventure novel.

I sighed and shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position and wincing when my sore back protested the
movement. I could swear that I had the stone pattern of the room Hermione and I had used for practice the day
before imprinted permanently on my skin. It had been a few rough days filled with little more than practice and more
practice, and I was unsure what was feeling more like slush, my brain or my body. I never knew how exhausting
casting spells could become, but after a whole day of vanishing and summoning things I felt as if I had been doing the
work by hand and not by wand, and so the lazy reprieve of today was absolutely welcome.

Fleur's giggle interrupted my train of thought and made me smile in tandem. She had, as I had come to expect from
her, showed up at a random moment and asked if I was busy. I had shook my head and that move saw her conjuring
an elegant chair and taking a seat a couple feet besides me. I had already been reading before she got here, so
instead of talk she took her little brown cover and we both read in companionable silence.

The effortlessness of her conjuration was awe inspiring for me, especially after how much effort it had taken me to do
something similar. She had merely flicked her wand, wordless, and taken a seat in the air before the chair had even
materialized, sure that it would be there to catch her. How people though she was nothing but a pretty face was
beyond me.

I could not help but compare her effortless show of skill against my brutish attempts to conjure. Where I threw
everything I had at it, focused on the image with such strength that I lost the sense of time, she twirled and danced
around the taut strings of possibility and pulled one of them until it became material. Her execution made it seem as
simple as choosing from a catalogue.

The inner workings of magic were not something that I had thought about before, much less studied, and as so,
technically complicated spells like ether conjuration were, at best, difficult for me. According to Hermione it was only
really in the last two years of schooling when you delved into that. Earlier to a simpler degree if you happened to take
arithmancy.

Innate ability would only take you so far, and most skilled labour jobs in the magical world required a level of casting
that went beyond that. To truly be able to foresee the effects we could create from the primaeval energy that nestled
in the essence of everything around us, to understand how those energies mixed and interacted both naturally and
when forced.

At least that is as much as I grasped about it. Hermione had helped me understand enough to cast some of the spells
on Dumbledore's book without passing out or suffering wild side effects, but with so little time it was as much as it
could be done. Not letting her see the source of the spells did not help either.
Fleur's subdued giggles shook me out of my thoughts. "What has you giggling like that?"

"Just something I'm reading."

Yup, she was tight-lipped about that book. As I opened my mouth to tease her for her plain covered, giggle-inducing
book, a flash of fire produced a letter in the middle of the room.

There goes my lazy day.

As the letter exploded into existence, Fleur leapt to her feet, the book flying from her grasp as her hands turned to
fumble for her wand between the creases of the blanket she was rolled on.

I laughed heartily at her flustered reaction and went to get the letter from the floor, Fleur scowling at me as she
understood the 'explosion' was -up to a point- expected. "It's from the Headmaster, he does this sometimes."

"Probably because 'e can't find you otherwise." she went to retrieve her book.

"Trust me, If Dumbledore really wanted to find me, he would." I unfolded the slightly Charred letter.

"The weighing of the wands, wonder what that is." I mumbled as I finished reading, wondering why I had not heard of
it earlier.

"It's a ceremony to check the state of the champion's wands," Fleur said as she read over my shoulder. She flicked
her wand and checked the time with a spell. "Madam Maxime said she would inform me of the date and place," she
frowned.

"Maybe she couldn't find you either," I suggested.

"Peut-être," she said deep in thought, "If we 'urry we can get there on time, come on."

It always amused me how Fleur would take off and stride full of confidence until she realized she had no idea where
she was going, it was really endearing.

"Come on lost girl, I know where this is."

We got to the designated room speedily enough that we were late, but not late enough to be admonished. This
seemed to please Fleur immensely judging by her superior smirk.

The room was an old classroom decorated with banners of the three schools and another black banner with a green
lightning bolt cutting it in two at the centre.

Inside were the three heads of schools, the other two champions and a woman that looked uncannily like an
animated mannequin and was accompanied by a bloke with a camera. Barty Crouch was in the room too, and next to
him Ollivander. It made sense he was the one checking our wands, he was the most famous wandmaker of the Isles,
after all.

The giant Beauxbatons headmistress scowled at Fleur and gestured for her to sit next to Diggory and Krum.

Surprisingly Diggory didn't look mad at me, in fact, he smiled a handsome smile and waved. Krum, as usual,
appeared to be constipated. I took a seat between Fleur and Diggory, for she had seated herself in the farthest seat
of the row, while avoiding the eyes of the woman in the back whose gaze I could feel on me. I am used to people
staring, after four years it became a common occurrence for me. This person however managed to make me feel
more ill-at-ease than a full room full of gawking people.

Once I was sitting, Crouch addressed the room, "Welcome champions, to the Weighing of the Wands. With this
Event, the tournament officially commences," he gestured towards Ollivander, "Mr Ollivander has accepted to act as
our expert in wand lore for the duration of the tournament, and as so all decisions pertaining the safety of the
champions and the overall health of the wands are his. If a wand is to be repaired or replaced it will be made by him,"
At this, he looked at Krum whose frown merely deepened, "and any tampering of a wand is going to be checked by
him," At this he looked at me, to which I could only roll my eyes. I was going to be held as a cheater from the
beginning it seemed.

Fleur patted my hand as she saw my reaction and lifted her chin up as in demonstration. Holding a smile back I
raised my chin too in imitation which made her giggle almost imperceptibly.

"Ahem, if all the champions are ready we'll begin," Said Ollivander smiling at us. My face coloured and I paid
attention, "Ladies first," he said and gestured for Fleur to rise, "Your wand Miss Delacour if you please."

Ollivander took her wand, given by a reluctant Fleur, and started looking at it with an intensity that verged on the
unnatural. After a moment he looked surprised and looked back at Fleur as if seeing her for the first time, and then
back at her wand, "I see… A quite unique wand, bonded as strongly as a wand can bond to a Witch. A unique core
inside a beautifully carved rosewood handle," he inspected it a bit more, "In perfect condition and well cared for."

With a gesture, the wand produced an almost white tongue of flames, startling Ollivander.

"Temperamental. For any other witch or wizard, a completely useless stick. For you, however, I daresay a more
perfect match would be impossible."

Fleur took the wand back, her face looking like that of any person who was in the company of the unnerving wand
maker for too long, an odd mix of discomfort at his odd ways and pride about the information that came from the
extension of yourself that is your wand.

Next up was Krum's turn. According to Ollivander, his wand was a dragon heart and hornbeam wand, and in good
condition. Stout and rigid, but strong and hard-working. 'A windmill atop a mountain' or whatever that meant.

At Ollivander's wave, the wand produced a fountain of wine, making a mess of the floor.

Cedric's wand contained a unicorn hair from a particularly manly and beautiful unicorn, because of course it would,
and produced a golden sphere of light that floated in the air and gave off a calm, golden light that bathed everything in
the room. The whole thing made me feel inadequate. Who would peg me for a champion by comparison?

Ollivander then looked at me and smiled as he gestured forward. I made my way towards the front and slipped on the
spilt wine, gods damn it I sure knew how to make an impression.

"Your wand is not one I will easily forget, Mr Potter. Phoenix feather and holly, seen her share of scuffles. One of a
pair," I stiffened but he didn't reveal anything else, I would not enjoy the knowledge of my wand's relationship to
Voldemort's becoming common knowledge, "The rebirth of a possibility, two who oppose each other but are the
same. Will the outcome change?"

I opened my mouth, not really knowing what for, but Ollivander just waved my wand not paying any mind to my
confusion, or to my indignation at being compared to Voldemort so directly.

Nothing came out of the wand, but for an awful thunderclap which made everything shake and rumble, making
everyone jump in fright, though I doubt anyone higher than me. Ollivander stood immutable, my wand extended
towards me in offering.

"Great things Mr Potter, that is the only sure thing."

I took my wand and hurried to my seat, all eyes on me, all in some state of surprise. But Dumbledore's eyes were
outright scared, his face pale. You have to give it to Ollivander, he knows his theatrics.

"All wands are in good health and well bonded. All champions are cleared to compete."

The flash of a camera bought a sulfurous smell as the man with the creepy woman took pictures.

"Champions be reminded that the task is to take place on the 24th, and you are only allowed to come with your wand.
For now, you are dismissed," said Crouch.

I stood with the others, Fleur shot me an apology within her small smile and went to her headmistress, who didn't
seem too happy with her. Seeing as she would probably go back to the carriage I smiled and made to go.

As I was nearing the door a cold hand gripped my shoulder with surprising strength and started pulling me towards a
broom closet at the back, "Harry dear, I don't suppose you'd mind giving me an interview, will you? To add a bit of
colour to the article," Great the creepy woman is a reporter, how fitting.

I shook her hand from my shoulder, "I don't really have time now, I-"
"Actually Harry, I wanted to speak with you. Can we walk back to the Great Hall together?"

Cedric stepped between me and the blond wigged lass.

"Absolutely, let's go," I didn't wait to see if he was following and I was out the door already. Fleur was rubbing off on
me, apparently.

With hurried steps, Cedric reached me, with his long legs it probably didn't take much effort. "Rita was not amused,"
he said with a smile, "It's not wise to cross her, she's a vindictive woman."

"Good thing I'm not a Ravenclaw then, eh?" He chuckled, "Thank you for that mate, that woman is bloody creepy."

"She did seem taken with you."

"Gods! Shut up Diggory that's… Ugh!" He bellowed at my disgust, the little shit. Maybe there was another champion
who didn't hate me after all.

"The French champion also seemed awfully chummy with you too," He said with suggestion in his eyes.

"We're not 'chummy'. Fleur is my friend."

"So Fleur is it? You seem really proud of being her friend," I did not realize I had lifted my chin as she does, at this
rate Snape was going to have a field day with me becoming the brat he always knew me to be.

I stopped walking, forcing Cedric to stop too, "What is it you want Cedric, you said you wanted to speak with me. Is
this what you wanted to talk about? Cause frankly it's none of your business."

He lifted his hands in a placating gesture, "Easy firecracker, I'm just pulling your leg. I wanted to tell you that I believe
you. About the choosing I mean, I believe you did not enter willingly," He scratched the back of his neck, "I also
wanted to apologize about the badges. I told the other Puffs not to wear them, but they are thick headed that lot."

"What badges?"

He looked at me incredulously, "You sure have become a true hermit, eh?"

"I avoid everyone I can, yes. I don't have time to deal with the bullshit of the masses. Or the mass of bullshit. I have a
lot to learn in too little time."

"Well never mind then. People have been belittling you with some stupid badges that say you suck. I tried to make my
housemates stop but, as I said, Puffs are stubborn."

"Don't worry about it Ced, you tried. I'm sorry I stole your thunder."

"Everyone sees it like that," he said huffing, "As I see it, it only means I get to beat the famous Harry Potter! Again!"

"Don't get too excited just yet, I think I have a chance at this. And that last match doesn't count. Dementors,
remember?" I said with a wry smile.

"I still got the snitch," He smiled, "Anyway, see you around mate. I have to run."

"Good-bye Ced."

Maybe this year wouldn't be so bad after all.

"By God, fucking dragons. I'm going to die, they just want to kill us. Who's fucking idea was it to bring sodding
dragons," Ron would be proud of my cursing. The little bastard. Sorry, Arthur.

Funny, how those types of thoughts suddenly pop into your mind when you are panicking.

In any case, there was little else I could think about on my whole way back from the forest. Or the rest of the night for
that matter.

It was November the 22th. No, scratch that, it was after midnight already. It was November the 23th.
After the weighting of the wands, my days keep rolling the same way in L'ermitage, as Fleur called my room in the
clock tower. I'd wake up, I'd read, I'd practice, I'd eat and I'd practice more. More often than not Fleur would make me
company, but that was the only thing that changed in my routine. That and how sore I was at the end of the day,
depending on which spells I had been trying.

Hermione thought I was ready enough for the task, and before tonight I thought so too. But this afternoon she had
told me that Hagrid wanted to meet at midnight for something important. Seeing as something important enough to
meet clandestinely at night for Hagrid had meant dragons and acromantulas in the past, I thought it wise to heed his
call.

Turns out his sense of 'important' hadn't changed a whole lot. Buggering dragons.

As I laid in my bed, wide awake, I kept seeing different ways in which I could die in just a handful dozen hours.

Burned, crushed, spitted, ripped apart. Damn if those dragons don't have ways to kill a paltry, measly little boy like
me. Chance of a lifetime indeed.

"Shit and ashes, Fleur!" Only now did the thought cross my mind. Fleur had to face those creatures too.

Fuck everything, I wasn't getting any sleep anyway. And naturally, the best course of action I could think was to
sneak out to the Gryffindor tower to get my broom and fly into the carriage through a window. In the night. At 2 am.
Through the window. Need I remind you that the dorms of the house of the brave are at the top of the second highest
tower of this really old castle?

So I found myself balancing precariously in front of a window of the Beauxbatons carriage fumbling with the lock of
the window with one hand, the other holding my invisibility cloak so that it didn't fly away in the breeze. House of the
brave indeed. As the lock clicked open I mentally cheered. These ones were a lot harder than the ones at the
Dursleys.

Obviously, it was going too well, so my Potter luck kicked in as I landed in the artfully decorated hallway. The most
horrible sound I could have imagined tore into the air, making the decorations that rested on the small tables lining
the wall shake almost as much as my vision. I lost my balance and hit the wall, the cloak slipping from my frame.

I managed to cover myself and most of the broom under it as the first doors started opening, heads of curious girls in
various stages of waking looking around for me.

Well, looking for the source of the disturbance, but that's synonymous with me most of the time.

Madame Maxime chose that moment to emerge from a room opposite the place I was leaning on, wearing what was
probably enough silk to dress all of the other occupants of the carriage.

"Vous tous arretez! Who tripped the wards?!"

Of course, wards. Who puts wards outside the dormitor-Oh! Never mind, we have them in ours too. Looks like the
French don't trust their kids to behave either.

The students quieted down as Maxime cast a menacing eye around the hall, apparently not finding what she was
looking for. she frowned and said.

"Everyone inside. If this happens again it will be detentions for all of you."

All the half-asleep students started to trickle back into their own dorms. At this point I realized she was not speaking
French. Maybe so that her threats were more universal, what with possible English and German-speaking rascals to
add to the normal French-speaking ones.

When everyone was back inside, Maxime turned back towards her room only to stop and turn her head towards the
end of the hall and call out something in French.

"Tes-vous d'accord Fleur?"

I thought for sure the crack of my neck was going to give me away right there. They were too far from me to hear it,
thankfully. Fleur, Which was the only word I understood from that, was standing just outside a door, wearing- do
women wear dresses to bed?
"Oui Madame, tout va bien"

"Eh bien, retournez au lit alors. Tu as besoin de repos."

As little French as I have, I knew what she said. I've seen that expression on Dumbledore's and McGonagall's face
often enough. Fleur looked about as well rested as I do, and by her face, Maxime thought as much. Not that she
knew how my face looked right now, thank the gods.

Fleur nodded jerkily as Maxime disappeared through her doorstep, and stood for a few seconds there, lost in thought.
Those few seconds I did not waste, for in that time I managed to get close to fours steps from Fleur's door and inside
her room proper before she managed to close the door. A feat, if I do say so myself, especially when hauling a taller
than me broom and being under a slippery cloak without clamps.

I held my breath as she went inside just behind me and closed the door. She stepped beside me and went to sit on
her bed, staring at the wall where some pictures were hanging, illuminated by a candle on her nightstand. Soft warm
light danced on the peaks and valleys of her face, lending her a melancholic look, turning her eyes sadder.

"Hey Fleur."

Personal recommendation, never enter a girl's room without her knowing and stare at her as she ruminates in the
middle of the night before softly speaking her name. They don't appreciate it all that much.

Fleur instantly jumped from the bed, eyes wide, a fireball in her hand. She searched the room with her gaze
frantically, hair whipping back and forth. Fortunately, I was invisible. Not so fortunately, she has a really keen ear. And
so a fireball found itself way too close to my head after the carpet crunched slightly under my feet.

"Wait Fleur! It's me! Stop"

I said pathetically while dropping my cloak, my broom and my dignity. Two of those I could always pick back up.

On her part, Fleur froze. Her eyes widening even more and her jaw dropping. Thinking that she had calmed, I took a
step towards her, only for her eyes to narrow and her mouth to form a thin tight line. It was my turn for having my
eyes widen. And thank Athena for my light feet.

Another fireball flew by me as I let myself fall to the side and rolled up to my feet, only to have to sidestep a third
flaming projectile. Fleur didn't look as surprised now as she looked enraged, pitching balls of fire like they were on
discount.

I aimed my wand and shot a petrification spell right at her chest. The dim blue magical pellet stormed past the
barrage of fire and hit the mark.

All sounds stopped except for the thud of Fleur hitting the floor, my panting breath and the sizzling sound of my
scorched outer robe. As fast as I am, and as much experience as I have in deathly situations, she got a couple of
shots on me. Maybe I shouldn't be as worried about her as I was. Wandless fire conjuration, Fleur managed to
impress me every time.

Of course, that reminded me of why I was here in the first place. I cautiously walked towards the fallen angel,
beautiful still, smoke still rising from her hands, and well, still. Unnaturally so. But I couldn't be sure if I had hit or
merely graced her with my spell, in which case I had to be prepared to dodge again.

I would have laughed at the position in which she froze, in the middle of pitching another fireball. Until I saw her eyes,
glowing from unsuppressed rage and tears, showing hate and fear and an overwhelming impotence. I choked on my
laugh right there and then.

Gods I am so stupid.

"Look Fleur, I know what you are thinking and I am very sorry. I was panicking in my room and I didn't think how bad
an idea it would be to sneak in here without you knowing. I just came here to tell you something, okay? I'm going to
release the spell now."

Her eyes were maybe even more furious than before. I sighed deeply.

"Finite."
Fleur scrambled to her feet, wiping her tears on a fist and scowling for all she was worth.

"Zo? What is it you 'ave to say?" she asked after she retreated as far as she could from me and crossed her arms as
if they were draw bars to a castle's gate.

"I was with Hagrid earlier, I mean the big guy that's around you know? He really likes dangerous creatures and- well
he asked me to- well he told my friend to tell me- Maxime was there too!" I exclaimed looking a bit crazed.

Good going Potter, you terrify her and then start rambling and pacing. Stop. Breathe. Open your eyes.

"We are to face dragons."

Okay, that sounded saner. As much as that phrase can be classed as sane.

Her face changed instantly, reacting to her obvious surprise, and then her eyes softened and her frown lessened.

"I know it sounds crazy, but I saw them. Hagrid showed them to me, we went to-"

"The forest. I know, Maxime was there as you said."

I looked up from my fidgety hands and saw that she came closer to me, and onto the light of the candle again. Tear
tracks still stained her face, but she looked more drained than furious right now.

"I saw her there. Pretty hard not to. I think I was crashing her date with Hagrid, even," I chuckled. She let out a small
laugh that made me relax a bit and flopped down to the floor leaning against the side of her bed and faced the
photographs again.

"She told me. I 'ave been sitting 'ere since then."

"I couldn't sleep either. I was just thinking about how stupid the motherfucking organizers of this tournament are."

She turned to look at me, all wide eyes and tear tracks, and patted the floor next to her. I sat down and stared at the
pictures on the wall too.

A short, pudgy man with a goatee that had those same crystal clear eyes that are so Fleur waved from a frame. An
elegant woman and a small kid missing a front teeth smiled at me from another.

In each photograph was Fleur too, but a Fleur that I've only seen for moments, when we were alone. Laughing the
world away with the people that could only be her family. She looked carefree, relaxed.

"Happy."

"I was."

I glanced at her; I hadn't noticed that I had spoken aloud. She was focused on the pictures, her face unguarded and a
small soft smile gracing it. An inkling of something stirred in me.

"Ahem, err... Are those your parents?"

"Oui. And mi leetle sister. I love them very, very much," A tear broke free from a prison of lashes, "I- *sigh* They were
the only thing I could think of when Madame told me about the task.

"I thought of you," I said distractedly, paying little mind to my tongue. She turned her head towards me, eyes wide in
surprise, and as still as she was moments before.

"Moi?"

My cheeks warmed under her incredulous stare as I got the implications of what I'd said. She was watching me as if
she had never seen anything quite like me. It was a heavy stare. I took a deep breath and returned her stare.

"There are not a lot of people I care for, so you came to mind quick enough," We stared at each other for a few
seconds before abruptly breaking the line of sight.

"I was freaking out about being burned and crushed and bitten, and then I thought 'Fleur's going to have to face a
dragon too' and even when I knew Maxime had seen them I couldn't be sure you know? After all, no one told me
about them and- and-" I hadn't even noticed I had started to flay my arms around again, "Well... I guess I just wanted
to be sure. That you knew. I don't have a lot of friends, and I wanted to keep you safe."

I was starting to feel stupid and embarrassed. And fidgety again. Who was I to presume she needed help, or that she
would need someone to keep her safe? Much less me. I'm the underdog of the tournament for Merlin's sake.

I started to get up only to be stopped by her hand on my shoulder, and a shiver.

"Thank you 'Arry." Short. Heartfelt. Honest. Another shiver. Another instance of meaningful stares.

"There's no need to thank me," I gave her a small smile and got up from where I was now crouching, her hand falling
from where it was on my shoulder.

Not that she let me get away, her hand found mine, and with surprising strength, she snapped me back to the floor.

"Where do you think you are going?" She said sharply. A little of her fire was back in those delicate features.

"Out? It's like three in the morning and I'm not supposed to be here," At this, I jerked my head subtly towards the
scorch marks by the door. She blushed slightly. I took it as a victory.

"You deserved that! You- you- peeping Tom! She half hissed half screamed while poking my chest with a very pointy
nailed finger.

We both burst out in laughter. Golden pearls of laughter that had to be stifled in the hanging coverlet of the bed, least
someone heard. Beautiful, tension melting laughter that cut, if only for a bit, through all the terrors and worries, all the
fears.

So there we stayed, on the floor, brushing our eyes and still shaking with chuckles and giggles from one moment to
the next.

"I think I got away easy, you didn't even burn me," I said.

"I did char you a bit," She said, playing with a hole in my robe that was still smoking a bit, "I am sorry. You wanted to
'elp and ended up burned," She was avoiding my eyes now, "Again."

I put my hand over hers, she still looked only at the unfortunate piece of clothing, "Story of my life," I smirked, "It's
okay. I invaded your privacy and attacked you. My intentions were good but I could have gone about it a different
way. I would have, if I hadn't panicked. I'm really sorry too."

We shared small shaky smiles.

"I really need to go, Fleur."

"You can't."

Okay, now I was getting confused, "Why?"

"If you go out again you will trip the wailing charm again, and this time it will freeze you as it should 'ave done before.
No one is that lucky twice, not even you. 'ow do you think you will look frozen sneaking out of my room at this un'oly
'our. 'uh?"

"Damn. What about the windows?" I was already getting up and walking towards them.

"That would work," she smirked, "if you were the size of my eleven year old sister."

"Who makes windows this small," I said as I inspected the offending opening on the wall.

"Someone who wants to keep 'appy couples apart," she giggled. I, of course, blushed spectacularly. Kind of like Ron
does. The little shit. Thinking of Ron got me muttering under my breath.

"Stop brooding 'Arry. Come sit again," She patted the floor next to her once more. I sat, broodingly. She shifted closer
to me and put her head on my shoulder. Now I froze.

"We'll just 'ave to wait till morning and then you can sneak out as you came in."
Her eyes were closed and her face relaxed. I was tense and about to run on the other hand.

"Where did you get that cloak by the way? They are very rare," She said, head turning to face me, not lifting her head
off my shoulder.

"It was my father's, I don't know where he got it. Dumbledore gave it to me during my first year," I turned to the wall, a
smile forcing its way to my face at the thought of my father, "I do know he was more reckless with it than I am."

She snorted, "I doubt that's even possible," my smile widened.

"Oh, you don't know the half of it. One time, he and his friends snuck out trying to find the kitchens and..."

And so I started to tell her some of the stories Sirius and Remus had told me in their letters, relaxed again in the
happiness of remembrance.

After a while, she hugged herself to my side which surprised me greatly. She had fallen asleep. I smiled a bit,
apparently the Marauders were a nice bedtime story, who would have thought?

I pulled the duvet from the bed and a pillow so that it covered us from the chill of the window I had not closed. I saw
her face in the light of the dying candle, clothed in flickering shadows that seemed to sharpen the elegance of her
aristocratic visage. I could not help but be awed again.

I only hoped she didn't try and kill me again in the morning. I was still worried about how scared she looked when I
petrified her. But there was nothing to be done now, except trying to get some rest and deal with the problems as they
came.

That was the last thought I had as the crashing waves of her soft breath lulled me to the lands of Hypnos.
*Chapter 8*: Only Hours left
Chapter 8

Only Hours Left

This was a strange morning. I could barely move for one, and the parts that I could move hurt with the sore ache of
not having moved in a while. Then there was that sound. Like waves crashing gently on the shore. It was really
calming and it was about to lull me back to sleep, were it not for something tickling my nose.

As I moved to scratch the itch away I realized that the pillow I was hugging was way too big and warm to be a pillow.
And then my fingers got tangled of the soft tuft of hair that was moving gently in the -now morning- breeze coming
from the still open window.

Shining pale golden hair, so like Fleur's. I immediately jerked away from my deathly fire throwing pillow as
remembrance kissed realization and my situation became evident to my still sleep-addled mind. I was way more
awake now that's for sure. I was also pinned in place, as my arm rested under her blonde mane, and my hand was
grasped within hers.

"Wait. Don't pull away. Not yet," Came the soft murmur. I had obviously wakened her on my panic.

"Are you sure?" I asked, very stiff and aware that my other hand has been resting just on her belly. The fabric of her
nightdress so thin and soft that it might as well not be there. I was getting very nervous, and yet Fleur was so relaxed
and content. As if this was a common occurrence. One that she particularly enjoyed. Not what I expected after
yesterday.

She turned around, head still on my arm. "Is it so terrible to 'old me 'Arry?" Her eyes were big and vulnerable, and I
was just melting under that gaze. I felt like Icarus, about to die for getting to close to divinity.

"You know it's not. But I didn't think you would want me to, especially after last night. And the way you've always
talked about men and... Well, how we are in your room and- like- you wearing that, I-" I sighed and decided maybe
less talking would be better. She dropped her gaze.

"Normally no, you are correct. Especially not after-" She started fiddling with my ruined robe again, "There's a good
reason why le Madame started warding the corridor," I looked at her in surprise, "Don't look so surprised, I was not
always an experienced and knowledgeable witch after all, 'Arry. I was always beautiful though, so they were needed."

"Humble too."

She smacked me in the chest, " 'ush," she smirked, "The point is, leetle chevalier, that you were in a position that
most everyone would 'ave taken advantage of," the earlier humour dead as her eyes cast down again, "Only you
didn't. In fact, you gave me what advantage you 'ad thinking of my safety. You are a good man 'Arry, despite your
voyeuristes tendencies," She gave me a shaky smile at that.

I was speechless at first. To hear the sadness in her voice, despite her attempts to lighten the mood, felt like a punch.
I probably played out one of her most real fears, the look on her eyes as she was petrified would haunt me for some
time now.

"You don't know how incredibly sorry I am Fleur. I wasn't thinking straight, I was panicked and I rushed ahead and did
the first crazy idea that popped into my head," I drew breath to continue apologizing but she silenced me with a finger
to my lips.

"Do not apologize anymore, you gave me your reasons last night and I forgave you, otherwise I would 'ave let you go
out and be caught by Madame Maxime. You 'ad good intentions, and I think mortal fear of a full-grown dragon is a
better excuse than most," We both chuckled at that, and the hand whose finger was warding of my rambling tirade of
apologies made its way to my back, in a half hug that was threatening my sanity as much as the dragon panic.

"I feel safe, at least for now," She rested her forehead on my chest and exhaled deeply. "I would spend the rest of the
day 'ere, as we are, just to avoid the crazy things waiting outside."

I decided that she was right. If there was a storm coming, maybe we should soak in the peaceful moments we had
now. My words were in no hurry to come back, stemmed back by Fleur's reassurance, but I've never been much with
words, so I did the only thing I could do. I held her closer, my face buried in a golden threaded pillow. And so we
stayed like that, without much thought or talk, just enjoying the warmth and the peace. The company of someone who
shared the same obstacles in the future was strangely comforting, and not something at all common for me.

Footsteps and voices started to pass outside, probably people going to breakfast.

*KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK*

The sharp sound of someone rapping on the door resounded through the silent room, making us jump apart
suddenly. Or try at least, but in the tangle of legs, covers and blonde hair we only managed to wriggle and writhe,
Fleur ultimately head-butting me on the chin. She does seem to have something against my face.

Fleur stopped moving and faced the door doe eyed and fearful. I, on the other hand, did the most ridiculous attempt
at hiding possible and dove under the covers, covering her up to her waist and laying over her legs as if I had just
tackled her. I heard the door open and then Maxime's voice.

"Bonjour Fleur. J'espère que vous allez... bien," That pause sounded like she probably noticed the scorched wall and
broken things.

"Aussi bien que possible," Ohhh haughty Fleur voice. Even if I can't understand French, I could picture her standing
straight with her chin up, as if being found sleeping on the floor after attempted arson was not strange, and the other
person was in fact intruding. "Après m'être ventilé un peu, bien sûr, je me suis endormi. J'étais sur le point de me
préparer pour le petit-déjeuner. Cela vous dérangerait-il terriblement, madame?"

"Oh. Sûr. Je te verrai au petit déjeuner alors. Je voulais seulement m'assurer que tout allait bien." I couldn't blame
Maxime for her confused voice, not for her unsure steps as she walked away, the steps of someone deciding to turn
around. "Et Fleur? Si vous avez besoin de parler ou d'avoir besoin d'aide, je suis ici comme je l'ai toujours été. N'en
doutez jamais."

More steps, this time a bit more firm.

"Je sais, Maxi. Merci," she didn't sound as stuck up now.

The door clicked shut. Fleur lifted the covers on one swift move, revealing me huddled to her legs, heart pounding
and eyes wide. Fleur, on the other hand, was biting her lip in a half smirk, eyes shining. I started chuckling. She bit
her fist, shaking in contained laughter, and then we exploded in deep bellows, stomach hurting laughter, rolling
around with tears falling.

"Je ne peux pas- hehe, I can't- I can't believe that worked," Fleur said, wiping her face of tears.

"Me neither," I chuckled, "I thought we were busted for sure. We were so lucky."

"Indeed you were..." She looked at me intensely, biting her lip in a half smirking. Her eyes shot to her legs and back
to me, a single, perfectly shaped eyebrow rising on her face.

Of course, I choked on my laughter and blushed impressively, not sure if out of embarrassment or the sudden
coughing fit. Fleur smiled victoriously at my reaction, a fair dusting of red adorning her pale cheeks. At that moment,
she looked like the happy, mischievous girl in the pictures on the wall.

That alone made me smile, "I am known to be extremely lucky," My voice came a lot softer to sound like teasing,
despite my intentions. I stood there trying to compose my face and avoiding Fleur's gaze. It was awkward, but in a
way it was... Fun, too. Light-hearted. I just knew I had to contain that stupid little smile. A giggle from Fleur snapped
me out of my thoughts.

"Well Mon Voyeur, I need to change before we sneak out," I googled and she raised her eyebrow, "Well? Turn around
'Arry"

"Right, right. Yes," I said I soon as my mind started moving again. This morning was only getting stranger. True to her
word Fleur seemed comfortable and... Light? Maybe a shared death threat was enough to bond over. It certainly
seems as if it's the way I get all my friends. Which shouldn't be normal, to be fair.

"All done," I turned and saw her, arranging the way her hair came out of her uniform's beret. I tried not to notice the
rest of her uniform too much.
"Let's go then. Let me get my cloak." After fishing my cloak we made our way through the carriage, Fleur leading
ahead. All the carriage was as richly decorated as the corridor were I landed, in soft pastel blues and creams. I was
surprised no fairies came out from under the furniture in the same way I wasn't surprised you could find a Cerberus
while strolling through Hogwarts corridors.

The trek back was uneventful, and soon enough we found ourselves outside of the Great Hall. "Thank you 'Arry," she
said to a point in the air to my left, "For worrying about me, and for being brave enough to do something," Her lips
quirked a bit, "You owe me for peeping through."

"You'll never let me live that down, will you?"

"Not if I can 'elp it. See you around." After one last smile, she turned and strode into the great Hall, hair bouncing on
her back with each confident step. For all the world as if she had not a single worry. I shook my invisible head at her
retreating form and hid behind a statue to put my cloak away.

As I entered the Great Hall I couldn't help but notice the familiar sound of a gossiping room, nor the shocked silence
and the renewal of chattering. I paid it as little mind this time as the last time, or the one before. They were likely
gossiping about my sudden appearance at this meal after being absent from them since the morning after the
selection. Besides, I was in too good a mood to let it get to me. I took my normal seat as of late, for the few times I
decided to eat in here, next to the only friend I had left.

"Where were you last night," Came the sharp voice of Hermione Granger.

"Good morning to you too, the weather is fantastic, is it not?" Hermione looked chastised at that, realizing that we
were surrounded by people eating with suspicious slowness.

"Sorry," She said, worrying her lips in that way she usually does when worried herself. She scooted closer, "But really
now, where were you? I was waiting for you at your place all night and you never got there. I was worried. I asked
Seamus if you had gone to the tower for some reason and he said you didn't bother going to sleep with them now,
and then the Beauxbatons have been chattering with the Ravenclaws about some kind of incid-"

"Shush," I stopped her tirade violently, my cheeks gaining a bit more colour than normal. The rumour mill was wild
enough without extra material. It was bad enough that Fleur and I didn't consider how it would look when we got here
late and almost together.

Apparently, my reaction was enough for Hermione to make some connection, if I went by her widening eyes and the
way her mouth open and closed as if forming words that wouldn't come.

"Don't. Not here. I'll tell you later ok? It has to do with the first task," I whispered the last part as loudly as I could to try
and divert the possible gossipers, my good humour diminishing at the memory of why I had been in the carriage in
the first place.

"Mffffh," She crossed her arms and dropped her shoulders, clearly not happy. Her familiar reaction pulling a smile
from my face, "Alright, but don't think I will let you down easy, mister," She said, pointing her finger at me, "I'm in your
corner Harry, as always, but I cannot help you if you don't keep me in the loop," She threw a furtive glance towards
the House of Wisdom, "Or if you decide to be reckless."

We shared a smile at that. Being reckless is our thing after all.

Hermione is nothing if not persistent so as soon as we had eaten enough she almost forced me to L' ermitage so we
could speak, which seeing as that was the whole reason I got to the Great Hall in the first place it wasn't a bad thing.

"What happened Harry? What did Hagrid want? Why didn't you return after? What's the thing with the Beauxbatons
rumours? Is it about you an-"

"Hermione! Breath, gods. One question at a time," She bit her lip and frowned, trying to decide which question was
more important.

"Look, let me start from the beginning it's not too long a tale. What happened is that Hagrid took me to the forbidden
forest at midnight, which should give you a clue to what happens next. I was following him under the cloak since
Maxime was with him in a sort of date," Hermione nodded slowly as if unsure if I was making sense, but not wanting
to interrupt again, "Turns out he finds dragons to be pretty romantic." Hermione's eyes widened and she gasped.

"Dragons," she exhaled.

"Dragons," I nodded, "I still don't know what I have to do, I just know that a fully grown dragon is going to be waiting
for me there tomorrow."

Hermione mouthed something incomprehensible and launched herself at me in a crushing hug. How could a girl so
small be so strong?

"Mione, air!"

She released me at my desperate pleading, looking at the same time abashed and worried.

"Maybe I'll just summon you from the stands and let you choke the dragon."

She punched my shoulder with force, "How can you joke! A dragon, Harry! There's almost nothing that could be
worse."

"Well, thanks for putting it in such a comforting way."

"Stop. Stop deflecting me with your stupid sarcasm. You could die."

"You think I don't know that? Do you think I didn't freak the fuck out when I find out? I know what I am up against.
There are just hours left, there's nothing I can do I haven't already done. I'll go with our plan, we made it with a big
dangerous creature in mind and that's what we got," I sighed, suddenly tired, "I can only go there and do my best."

"I just want you to be okay," Hermione said in a small voice, eyes brimming with tears. This is when I realized
something I should have known from way back. Hermione was, in a way, as alone as I am. She saw Ron and me in
the same way I saw them, they are my brothers.

Only for Ron, that was nothing special, he had so many brothers that one more made no difference. And then there
was this girl, holding back tears for me. Because for all the times I had been in danger, she had always been right
there to help, to keep me safe. But not this time. She is as close to family as I got.

I extended my arms and she hugged me again, sobbing softly, "You won't lose me this easily, I promise."

I hoped it was a promise I could keep.

After a while, she calmed down, "Alright, I'm sorry I should be giving you encouragement not crying like a stupid girl."

"Knowing you care is encouragement enough, Mione"

She smiled at me until she remembered she had more questions.

"There was another thing. What is that about the rumours from the Beauxbatons? Why didn't you come back last
night?"

I blushed again, I couldn't help it.

"Harry! You didn't. Did you?"

"Well, for starters I don't know what you think I did. I don't really know what the Ravens were gossiping about."

"They were saying that someone broke into the carriage last night, triggered the wards. The main reason they are
giving is Delacour sneaking a paramour into her room."

"That's ridiculous. No one who knows Fleur would believe that," I shouldn't be so outraged, I knew that people bad-
mouthed her as much as they did me. It's one of the reasons we got close.

"So it wasn't you," Hermione sighted in apparent relief.

"Errr, no. Well, yes. It was me," I gestured for her to stop as she made to speak, "I was a panicked mess after seeing
the dragons. I could not sleep I keep just thinking in circles, and a thought popped into my head. I am not the only
champion."
Hermione's face softened with a mixture of fondness and pity as she looked at me, "Oh, Harry..."

"She has to face those beasts too, Mione. I could not let her go into that without telling her," I shook my head sadly,
"so yeah, I broke in, tripped the wards and got into her room." Hermione had the scandalized look she wore when
someone cursed or broke the rules. As long as that someone wasn't her, of course. "You don't have to tell me how
bad an idea it was, okay? I learned my lesson. She was right furious," I smirked, "almost burned my robe off of me."

Hermione looked like she couldn't decide whether to be angry at Fleur for attacking me or glad that I had gotten a
measure of punishment for my trespassing.

"You really do care for her, don't you?"

I just nodded, "I do." She looked troubled again like she wanted to say something she knew I wouldn't like. "Why do
you despise her so much, I don't get it. It's not like you to judge people."

"It's because I think she's using you!" I rolled my eyes at her recurring accusation and decided to make her see
sense.

"How exactly is she using me. She is smart and incredibly talented, she was not chosen on a fluke, she really is the
best her school has to offer. She is powerful too, I have seen her conjure lasting objects from nothing on a whim and
cast fire without a wand. Anything I do she can do better, so tell me, Hermione, how is she using me?"

"Don't you see? You have already put yourself at risk, not to mention forgoing your advantage to tell her about the
task."

"Because she is a friend! How do you think I would feel if I didn't say anything and she di-" I bit off my retort, not
wanting to voice that thought. Hermione is a clever girl there's no doubt about that, but if she thought she was right
she wouldn't see reason unless it slapped her in the face. "Besides, she already knew about the task. I told you
Maxime was with Hagrid in the forest, she told her," I smiled, my eyes softening as I remembered her rare
bashfulness, "And she said the same thing about being stupid for risking it to give up my advantage."

"She did?"

"As I said, you and her are more alike than either of you would care to admit," Hermione just scowled at that causing
me to roll my eyes.

"Well, if she knows then we should warn Diggory and Victor too."

"Victor?" I asked, flabbergasted. It was a testament to how consumed I had been in the tournament that I had not
noticed my best friend getting in first name terms with Victor Krum.

"We have spoken a couple of times in the library," her cheeks had a distinct tint to them.

"Sounds fair, we all should know," I smirked one evil smirk, "Why don't you tell 'Victor,' since you seem to know him,
and I'll warn Cedric"

"You are a prat. You know that, don't you?"

"Oh yes, it's a known fact. Ask Snape, he'll give you a complete dissertation on the topic."

She smiled again at this. Maybe Krum would distract her from continuing to antagonize Fleur. Maybe.

I decided I would rest for the rest of the day, It wouldn't do for me to be dead tired at the task. So after leaving a
gobsmacked Cedric standing in the courtyard, I meant to go to L' ermitage and decompress.

"Hey, Potter!"

At the sound of that repulsive voice, my eyes rolled so hard I feared I might go blind on the spot. I had been so
isolated this year that I hardly remembered Malfoy existed. Just keep walking Harry, get inside, up the stairs and-

"Don't ignore me, Potter!"

I sidestepped and turned as I heard the distinctive crackle of a stunning spell, the flash of light flying past me, my
wand was in my hand before I finished turning. Malfoy was standing there in between his two usual bookends, three
wands raised against mine, barely a brain between them.

There was cheering from the onlookers hoping for a spectacle. And probably hoping to see me trashed, it was three
on one after all.

It was the perfect opportunity to try something I read in Dumbledore's books.

"Stupefy," I whispered my wand moving in the motion for a blasting curse, my intent solely in stunning the three
arseholes.

A small red ball of energy shot forward towards the floor at their feet and broke into an explosion of red tendrils,
slapping the shit out of Malfoy and his goons. As soon as the red tendrils touch them they fell unconscious.

I smiled through the coming headache, that was really cool. I turned and went away as fast as I could as to not be
stopped by a professor, I would probably be punished by this as the whole courtyard had seen the scuffle, but right
now I just wanted to get to my room without more trouble. My vision blackened for a moment and I lost my balance,
kind of in the same way that it happens when you get up to fast from a chair after having been sitting for a while. I
cursed an held to the wall until the feeling passed, the amount of concentration required for twining spells was still a
bit too taxing for me.

The students that came close to watch were not looking so cheerful now, luckily they decided to go with the better
part of valour and scurried away from me as I hurried my way inside the castle.

"Fleeing your blonde prétendant I see," came the mirthful voice of another blonde. Apparently, Fleur's idea for the day
was similar to mine.

"You are going to worsen my headache saying crap like that," She laughed from where she was standing at the
'clockface window' of the tower.

"That was an interesting spell. Looked like a stunner at first, but stunners don't cause that effect."

"They do if you know how to make them," I slumped in my pile of blankets next to the fire, "It makes your head pound
like hells though."

She walked closer and sat next to me, covering herself with the same quilt I was using, surprising me. She normally
preferred to have more space for her own.

"So, you are not going to teach me?"

"Maybe some other day, today I was hoping to just lay off and rest for- well, you know."

"Oui. I know," she sighed, "I thought the same, but the carriage is too loud and everyone is gossiping and nosing in
about last night, so I thought 'ere would be best."

"Oh right, everyone is talking about how poor your sneaking abilities are. The whole carriage heard you and your
paramour laughing last night," I said, a tint of humour in my voice.

She huffed and tilted her chin, "People always gossip."

"So you are always sneaking blokes into your room?"

"You are awfully close to getting a fireball again, monsieur," she said while holding back a smile.

"Alright, alright. I won't say a thing."

"That's better," She leaned into me and rested her head in my shoulder.

I was not a cuddly person normally, courtesy of my 'family.' And neither was she. But today we both needed the
comfort, so I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and closed my eyes.

"Do you have a plan for tomorrow?" I asked, my eyes still closed.

"Oui," she said in a dainty breath, "I 'ave it worked out. You?"
"Yeah me too."

"I 'ope it's not like your usual plans," I decided it was better not to answer that. She decided my silence merited a
punch to my shoulder.

" 'Arry! You are not going to jump on its back and stick your wand up its nose are you?"

I shouldn't have told her about the troll, I thought despondently, "I'm not going to try and stick my wand in its nose."

She punched my shoulder again, "Hey, I have a plan alright, if it goes well I won't even get close to the dragon. You
can stop punching me, you dainty boxer," I said as I rubbed my shoulder.

She looked at me for a long moment and deciding to believe me, leaned against me again, "I'll be quite mad if you
charge mindlessly. I don't 'ave any more friends in Britain, so I would like you to keep living. Clear?"

"I feel so appreciated."

Fleur giggled and patted my arm, "You are, 'Arry. You are."

And so the rest of the day was spent relaxing in front of the fire, clearing the mind for the challenges to come.
*Chapter 9*: Danger put things in perspective
Chapter 9

Danger Puts Things in Perspective

The sound of a thousand excited chattering voices reached my ears, even from the considerable distance that still
separated me from the First Task's arena. I could feel the cold November air as it warmed in my lungs with each deep
breath, the way the grass gave into my weight with a crunch was as noticeable as my own legs moving, even the
warmth radiating from Hermione's body as she walked beside me was obvious.

Everything was more alive, more intense. It's a shame you only feel this way when you are close to not feeling
anything anymore. I shuddered.

A few minutes before I had been eating in the Great Hall, as McGonagall had informed me it was mandatory for the
day of the task, when the champions were summoned to the tent next to the arena to be 'given further instructions'. I
stubbornly refused to go before I finished eating, so I probably was one of the last ones, either champion or public, to
get there. Hermione waited to walk with me, she really is a great friend.

Further ahead, at the tent's entrance, I could see, although barely, Cedric's brown hair as he was egged on to the
inside by a gaggle of his admirers.

"Remember, the first thing you need to do is cast the cooling charms and the protect from fire spell, the sticking
charm on the glasses, you cannot affor-"

"Mione, calm down. You are more nervous than I am." Okay maybe a little bit of a lie, but she was starting to
hyperventilate.

After a bit of gesticulating she flung herself at me and hugged me for all she was worth. I returned her hug with a bit
more tenderness and patted her back.

"Be careful Harry, please." She sniffed

"I'll try, I promise," By now I noticed that she was hugging me with both arms, "Hermione... Where is my broom?"

"*Sniff* Neville has it. He's in the stands already, saving me a seat." She let go off me and rubbed her eyes.

"Don't wish me luck, eh? You know how my luck is."

"Break a leg then," she smiled, "but only one."

"I'll try."

I didn't say anything else. It wasn't necessary, not between us.

After a last reassuring smile, I went inside.

The first thing I noticed inside the champions' tent was the silence. None of the rumble from outside could be heard
inside. Krum was standing near the centre of the tent with his brow furrowed, as usual. Only, nerves made him look
more constipated than brooding. Cedric was to the side of the fairly Spartan tent, walking and muttering to himself. He
was going over spells in his mind, most likely.

The tent was littered with ministry officials, some Aurors and that Baggins bloke, or was it Bagger? No matter, I had
just spotted Fleur sitting as far away from everyone else as the constraints of the tent permitted her.

As much as she would like to make the world believe she is calm and in charge, she couldn't fool me. For one she
was sitting in a high chair identical to the one in L' ermitage, complete with a red and gold blanket.

"As social as ever I see," I said as I approached and sat on the floor next to her.

"Are you saying I 'ave a dirty ass, Monsieur Pot?"

"What?" I said with a blush, Fleur was not one to make that kind of comment often.

"That did not translate well," a faint dusting of red showed on her face ruining her queen-like façade, "I meant you are
as social as I am."

Of course, Monsieur 'Pot'.

"We say the pot calling the kettle black, but of course, we're not decadent and barbaric as the French"

I always count it as a victory when she has to hold back a laugh.

"You learn fast," she made a gesture of dismissal, "for an English man."

"Thank you, your grace," I inclined my head, which served the added purpose of hiding my smirk.

" 'ush, plébéien." We both chuckled at the ridiculousness and the levity of the moment, something we both dearly
needed.

A flash of white light then engulfed my vision, I rolled to a crouch and drew my wand. I could feel Fleur move next to
me and the shimmer of a shield form in front of me. My vision came back and in front of us was... a camera? I blinked
the spots from my eyes, blonde hair, green tacky dress, oh Gods damn it. The weird reporter from the other day.

"Oh my, what a pretty, pretty picture. What a story must it have." Even this woman's voice was creepy, as if she
would pounce on us. "You simply need to tell me. You wouldn't be one to keep... Secrets, eh Miss Delacour?"

"Rita, sorry but we need the champions, we're about to give the instructions. The interview will have to wait, hope you
don't mind."

We were so focused on this 'Rita' and she on us that we didn't notice Baggins approaching. Or calling out apparently.

"Of course not Ludo, dear. Maybe the story will get even better with a bit of... Maturation. It's fine really..." She said
with a forced smile that said it was anything but, and walked out with more drama than was necessary.

"Well then; Miss Delacour, Mr Potter, come with me and you'll get your instructions.

A few minutes later I stood with an angry little dragon in my hand, wearing a small collar with a number four puffing
red-black fire from time to time and trying to look menacing. It was cute really.

So, gather the golden egg. They managed to make a dangerous situation even worse.

For all the nerves I had up until now, I was feeling pretty good at the moment. Focused.

After bouncing Baggman told us about the task Krum and Cedric returned to their musings and Fleur, whose dragon
was wearing a number one, threw a mournful look at her chair and stood straight, facing the exit. I noticed her hands
were shaking slightly.

"Try not to win with too much margin, okay? I'd prefer not to be embarrassed at the first event."

She smiled in a way that I could not entirely decipher. Grateful, maybe.

"Oh, I don't know. I am quite looking forward to free chocolates at le village.

"Then go earn them." I managed to say before the start cannon fired, signalling the beginning of the event; and
sharpening into focus, Fleur got out the tent.

The wait was excruciating, whatever magic kept the tent silent didn't change with the start of the task. Some fifteen
minutes passed in an eternity of time before a second boom summoned Cedric to the exit of the tent, leaving just
Krum and me waiting. I chose to sit in Fleur's chair since she had forgotten to dispel it, and frankly, it probably
brought me the same comfort in its familiarity as it did her.

Sometime later it was Krum's turn, neither Cedric nor Fleur had come back to the tent. It probably was a good sign
that neither came back, they probably were sent elsewhere.

The cannon went boom again, like the gavel of a judge. I let out a breath, nothing for it now.
I stepped outside to the thunderous sound of an excited crowd. After the silence of the tent, it felt like an explosion.

As soon as I stepped out I discretely cast a sticking charm on my glasses, Hermione had remarked in its importance
enough for me to forget it. And as my eyes grew accustomed to the light I was glad that I didn't forget to do it.

The enclosure looked like a giant had decided to carve a toy coliseum from the very floor; it was circular and rough,
the dirt on the floor looked like a herd of bulls had stampeded around while pulling a plough.

Parts of it looked like they had crystallized into a shiny black rock, and the gouges on the floor were as deep as the
length of my leg. Huge boulders, the lesser of which was taller and broader than me, peppered the arena; and in the
centre of all this lay the dragon.

If it weren't for the fact that it was so damn massive it would have been hard to distinguish it from the black boulders
and the molten floor. Its scales were an absolute black that didn't even reflect the, admittedly poor, sunlight.

Steam rose from its body and the cold air distorted around it, bending to is heat. There was no doubt why dragons
were so feared, it's power could be felt. Deep in my gut, in my bones, I could feel the thrum of eldritch power, like the
feeling when I first held a wand and felt the rush of magic but a hundred times stronger.

Curled as it was, it wasn't easy to tell much detail from its form; Its head was the only thing I could see clearly for it
was facing me, it was scaleless but looked as strong as if it was made from steel, it was about as long as I was tall
and then it extended smoothly to four straight horns on each side, creating a natural crown.

The only bit of colour it had was in its eyes. Two smouldering red pits that glowed with enough intensity that it was
noticeable from a distance and, as its tail swung behind it, a metallic bronze glint at the tip of it. Horntail indeed.

"Accio," I murmured as I raised my wand to the air. The dragon, apparently, took offence to this, and almost as quick
as I could perceive it unfurled with a step forward and spat a column of red-black fire with the sound of a jet and a car
crash.

I threw myself behind the closest boulder all the while cursing everything and thanking quidditch training. Even
protected by the stone the heat was unbearable, the fire had enough power that it pushed against the stone as if it
was a current of water and tongues of flame and molten stone swirled and splattered around it. My sweat evaporated
as soon as it appeared.

I hurriedly cast the flame retardant charms and the freezing charms I had found on myself and then cast them again. I
still felt as if I was dying inside a stew pot, even if I was now steaming from the difference in temperature. Then over
the awful screeching of the dragon I heard the swish of an incoming broom, and with a skill honed from a thousand
hours I jumped in its path and flew away and out of reach from the column of fire.

The rush of fresh, cold air was wonderful and invigorating after the infernal heat of that hellish creature. From the
vantage point I had gained I could see the whole arena, but no clutch of eggs, and judging by the reluctance of the
dragon to fly in pursuit they were likely below it (her?)

Now in the air I stowed away my wand and flew as fast as I could towards the dragon before swerving past, baiting it.
My speed was too great for it to easily swat me away and it was making it grow visibly irritated, but it didn't look as if it
would move from atop the eggs. And so I kept swirling around it, weaving between its head and it's tail, flying close
enough to reach and touch it and then away, tempting it to follow.

It was a mistake to believe the dragon to be a stupid, brutal beast. Only the sudden smell of sulfur and a sound like
two rocks hitting each other warned me to the explosion of fire that rose in my path. I reversed directions so suddenly
that I felt like my stomach kept going forward without me, and as I turned I was faced with a clawed, gigantic paw that
I barely manage to avoid.

I could not keep this up for too long, the dragon was too fast, had too many appendages and its fire could change
direction way too swiftly. It was like flying against ten of Dobby's killer bludgers solely focused on me.

I dove to the floor, spinning out of the way of a cone of fire and saw the eggs. The dragon had risen enough that I
could fly between the floor and it's belly and get the sodding egg. I was focused solely on the gold glint of it, so much
that I failed to see the bronze spike heading my way.

My wand was in my hand in an instant, the words for a solid shield on my lips. The tail of the dragon hit the shield with
a mighty gong and I heard my left arm snap, the air was driven from my gut as I flew backwards, away from my
broken, pierced shield that remained floating where I cast it as inertia took my broom into a roaring inferno.
The landing felt as bad as the take-off and left me gasping for air and with black spots flying in my vision. The good
news? I don't think I broke anything else and my sticking charm held, so I was not blind. The mixed news? I had
landed fucking far away from the dragon, which probably saved my life but now I had to get close again. The bad
news? My arm hurt like no one's business. At least it wasn't bent.

In a moment of brilliance, I thought to wrap my sleeve tight -fucking ouch- and transfigure it to wood. Improvised
splint, check.

I would need to fly a lot faster if I wan- my broom. My broom kept going forwards after I fell. Into the fire. Sirius broom,
gone. Not even ashes left.

A flare of rage hotter than any fire the dragon could produce hit me, and with a scream, I started to throw blasting
curses; my wand moving like a conductor's baton, a symphony of destruction.

The orange balls of energy exploded against the dragon without any obvious effect apart from some surprise from it.
The crowd was roaring as much as the dragon now, and I was getting frustrated.

With a hiss the blasting curses gave way to bone withering curses; and in between flashes of purple, scales started to
fall.

The roar of pain from the dragon drowned every other sound and with a mighty pull, the chains holding it snapped as
it lunged at me. A quick ascendio saved my hide as the beast landed where I had been and swiftly turned to face me,
I pushed everything I could into a banisher and one of the huge boulders flew, striking it in the head and staggering it.
A second boulder hit it in the side and made it fall prostrate in the middle of spewing a bout of flames.

With the sudden light of Dragonfire came a glint of gold, and riding on instinct as I was my eyes couldn't help but stray
towards it. The eggs! The clutch was unprotected and the fake egg was there for the taking.

I looked back towards the dragon and saw that it was almost on its feet again, I would not have another chance to
end this. With a small prayer to the Goddess of wisdom, I intoned the words to the most taxing spell I had ever tried to
cast.

"Kyton Carceri," I murmured with the utmost focus I could manage. The magic took hold and I felt like Atlas. A violet
swirl of energy took form over the dragon, and tendrils of it shot to the ground burrowing deep. In seconds the dragon
was pinned to the ground under an ever tensing net of violet chains.

I took the fact that I was not dead or unconscious as a victory, though I did not know for how long that would remain
true. Every time it tried to escape I could feel each push and each pull on every fibre of my body. Every time it
breathed fire on the ethereal chains I felt as if my arms would melt off.

I started towards the eggs without laying my gaze off the struggling mother, my wand arm shaking with the effort of
keeping up such spell, step after small step, and when I finally got there I hugged the golden prize to myself as best I
could with my splinted arm.

A dozen or so wizards entered the arena at that moment and casting something simultaneously at the dragon several
times, managed to knock it unconscious.

I let go of the spell and fell on my arse as if the rope on a tug of war had snapped. Huge black spots danced on my
eyes and my legs didn't feel solid at all, but with effort, I managed to get up and then Ron was holding me upright and
saying something I could not hear over the sound of my own blood in my ears. No, not Ron. Ron is a gangly bastard,
maybe his brother? The dragon handler? I could not focus enough to remember his name.

He helped me towards the tent where I was before the task, I went stumbling the whole way.

When we got there I realized it was a different tent, this one looked like the hospital wing and smelled the part, too. I
was getting my bearings back, the sound of blood no longer rushing through my ears and I could stand a bit better
without leaning so much on... Charley? Yes, Charley was his name.

"Hey thanks, mate," I said, trying to stand on my own and stumbling a bit.

"You better sit. Eh, Harry? That was some show you put out there. I don't know how you are still standing," He guided
me to a bed
"Barely, that's how," I muttered as everything started spinning when I sat. "I think I'm going to barf."

"Then get on with it, if you throw up the potions they won't work." If there was ever a voice I could distinguish in any
state of consciousness it was Madame Pomfrey's.

"I should have known the task was not over yet," I laid back against the bed head despite myself as the world kept
spinning out of control.

"Opinionated as ever Mr Potter. Drink this and stop complaining." She said with the suppressed amusement I had
learned to pick up from her.

I knew from my ample experience that complaining would serve no purpose, so I gulped down the two phials I was
handed. The world ceases it's crazy twirling almost immediately and I felt a bit better. At least I didn't feel like I was
going to fall asleep on the spot. At one point Charlie walked out without me noticing it.

"What did you do to your arm Mr Potter?" She said, her wand tracing familiar patterns over it.

"I broke it, I think. I transfigured my robe into wood to splint it." It truly looked strange, the way the fabric turned where
I tightened and then flowed into a cast made of wood that looked suspiciously similar to my wand's.

Pomfrey let out an exasperated breath I was all too familiar with and vanished the cast before, with a mere gesture
from her wand and a soft snap, mending my arm.

"It was a clean break, the best you could hope for considering what struck you."

"It struck my shield, not me. I still felt the strike thought, only on my arm weirdly enough," I flexed my fingers as I
examined said arm.

"You should read your spell books more carefully Mr Potter, not all shields disperse the energy in the same way."

"So I'm probably going to get a lecture from Hermione then."

"A well deserved one." She pursed her lips

"I thought I was going to get a lecture from you too.

"Honestly, it would be pointless. I have accepted the fact that you'll always be under my care." She said as she
suppressed a smile.

"How sweet, Poppy." People often thought strange that I was so familiar with Madame Pomfrey, but after all the time I
had spent under her care, it shouldn't be surprising.

"Apart from your, now fixed, arm you are only suffering a case of exhaustion and some bruising on the back. Nothing
a good night's sleep and a warm meal can't heal. The invigorating draught you drank will help but don't overextend
yourself, it is only borrowed energy after the effects fade you'll crash again."

"So... Get to my bed and sleep?"

"Basically, yes. You need to get to the arena to get your scores and then go out through the other tent. After that go
and get some rest, if I see you in the hospital wing again in the next month I'll make you regret it, Mister." She
wagged her finger at me, one hand on her hip.

"You got it, Poppy. Thanks for everything." I got out the bed, only slightly dizzy now. My fixed arm was a bit sore and
my back was starting to sting but overall I was not feeling too down. Pomfrey grumbled something about dragons and
some part of Dumbledore's Anatomy as I got out of the tent.

The arena was mercifully free of fire breathing creatures when I got out, but I couldn't help flinching to the sudden
sound of the crowd. The medical tent was silenced too apparently.

I walked towards where the judges had their table set up. Bagman raised his wand and a 10 exploded from it, confetti
and all. What an excitable fella. Mr Crouch gave me a 5, claiming the use of questionable and banned spells and
earning a loud booing from the crowd. Maxime gave me an 8 looking like it pained her to do so. Karkarof gave me a 7
also looking reluctant.
Dumbledore looked at me in between worry and pride and gave me a 10 'For mastering spells well beyond what most
wizards could wield, in a situation where it would be difficult to keep a calm mind.'

I think he forgot I wasn't competing for Hogwarts.

A total of 40 points, that should be enough to get fir-

"With forty points, Harry Potter, representative of House Potter claims second place!"

Well, sod. Wonder who got first place.

It was in this distracted state that I entered the champions' tent again and almost found myself on the floor from a
resounding slap. Immediately after I was in a crushing hug, my mouth full of golden hair.

"You told me you 'ad a plan, you.. you inbécile!"

"I didn't say it was a good plan." I returned the hug hesitantly.

"You owe me all the chocolate in the hog's villagé." That made me chuckle, and she hit me in the back of the head
without breaking the hug.

"Ow. You really need to stop hitting me before I get a concussion. You are way too strong for someone so thin."

"This thin and delicate girl is in first place." She said pulling away enough to look me in the eyes. Or more likely, to
allow me a glance at her smug expression.

"How many points?"

"Forty-two." That smug smile again.

"Damn. I almost got you."

"Almost, Monsieur, is not enough."

"You are so proud," I said as we started walking towards the exit.

She bumped my shoulder, "You say it like you don't like that."

I looked at her as she walked beside me, looking happier and more relaxed than I had seen her, hair shiny as it
bounced even in the low light of the tent. I felt my expression soften and could only think one thing: I was in trouble.
Big trouble.

"It is more endearing than it should," I said, now knowing exactly why that was.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hello readers, first I apologize for the delay. Work has been crazy lately and then I got hooked reading 'The Sum of
Their Parts.' Awesome story, by the way, thought i felt a bit cheated with the jump from the last chapter to the
epilogue.

Now responding to some reviews:

George1892: Harry didn't forget about Cedric, I just skipped the scene. I implied it though, read the last part of the
last chapter more carefully.

Stealacandy: thanks for your corrections mate, I'll change them in the chapters when i have a chance.

Anabeth Ginebra Swan: No me esperaba una Review en Español, eh? Una sorpresa agradable.
*Chapter 10*: Broken Things
Chapter 10

Broken Things

By the time I got to the courtyard, I was about to drop snoring on the ground. Thankfully Fleur took her job at keeping
me awake with delight; her elbows are damn sharp, but her delighted laugh each time she poked me to awareness
was worth the inconvenience.

So I was really surprised to find Ron and Hermione just at the castle's entrance, apparently waiting for me. Hermione,
I kind of expected. Earlier, even. But Ron, Ron I was not expecting at all.

I will not lie, the git has been on my mind a lot since I stopped speaking with him but you'll forgive me if today he
escaped my thoughts, they were pretty full of dragon-fire and glinting gold.

Right now I don't have the energy to deal with this. I felt Fleur stiffen against me where I was leaning into her. I had
told her about Ron, not much, but she knew the core of the matter; and I dare say she was as offended on my behalf
as I was myself.

"Hi mate, I-"

"I would think 'mate' is pushing it, Ron," he flinched at my rebuke, as tired as the delivery was.

"Look, Harry, just let me say my piece. I won't bother you anymore after that." Hermione was standing a bit behind
him, trying to be unobtrusive and bothering her lip while glancing alternatively from Fleur to me.

"Alright, start spewing," Because that's the only thing that comes out of your mouth, I didn't add. Look at me, a
paragon of self-control and politeness.

"I wanted to say… I mean I- Well, you know sorry, mate," he ran his hand through the back of his head while looking
at his feet, " I was being a right bastard, I spoke from anger and I shouldn't have."

"Never the less, even if said in anger you said what you felt and what you believed. You spoke without regard for the
one you call your best friend, and not even to 'is face." Fleur spoke with a frigidity that felt more personal than it
should. Ron seemed to wilt under her voice, and I felt a swell of affection at her defense of me.

"Maybe, but it's not all I felt. I am resentful I couldn't enter the tournament, yes, but I know that the tournament is not
really what I want. I just want recognition, I want for people to look at me and say 'Oh look! That's Ron,' not 'One of
the Weasley, maybe' or 'Potter's friend.' But I was a right prat, and turned on the only person that actually thought
highly of me." He let a long-suffering sigh, "Merlin's soggy bollocks, you know I'm pants at this type of mushy talk; but
mate, I know you better than I know Ginny or the Twins, and they are my brothers! What I mean to say is that I miss
you mate."

I didn't know how to react, I didn't know how to feel about this. I didn't know how I felt about anything, really; and it
must have shown, for with a resigned sigh he marched on.

"I have a lot of brothers it's true, and maybe that's why I don't put as much value in family as you or Hermione, but I've
only ever had two friends. I'm sorry mate, I know that we may not be as we were, Hermione warned me already and
she has a lot more brains than me, but I just needed to tell you this. I still think you are my best mate, I really miss
you, and I'm sorry it took you almost dying without having me there to help for me to put my head out of my arse."

With this he turned and went away, head held down and dragging his feet.

Hermione looked panicked for a moment, now looking between Ron and me. She then looked at Fleur, who nodded
at her, and went after Ron.

Fleur, for her part, started pulling at me to make me start walking again, and I barely remember getting to L'ermitage
and crashing into the pile of blankets that dubbed as my bed before oblivion took me.
You know that feeling you can get sometimes where you are suddenly falling and then wake up? It's a lot worse when
you genuinely are falling and the floor wakes you up.

Even if I had wanted, I could not react with anything more than a groan, and then try and turn onto my back. Fleur's
giggles were enough to put me at ease that I was not in any real danger.

"What happened?" I asked still a bit groggy.

"You fell, you silly."

"No Duh, I mean where did I fell from? I sleep on the floor." I believed that to be a good question.

"Since you were so tired, I thought I would transfigure your pile of blankets into a proper bed. You slept too much
though, and the transfiguration wore out," She flicked her hair behind her shoulder, ridding herself of any guilt for my
fall with a gesture.

I sat leaning back on my hands, feeling like I had a bull tap dance on my… well, on me. Fleur was sitting on her
customary chair a steaming cup held in her hands.

"I feel like dragon dung. I almost became dragon dung."

She frowned at me, "I don't find that as funny as you seem to think."

"Sorry," I said, properly admonished by her tone of voice, "Force of habit, I guess." Between Fleur and Hermione, I
was going to have to be more careful with the comments about almost dying. It felt kind of nice to finally have
someone be off-putted by that, and it shouldn't be.

"Is that tea?" I gestured towards her mug trying to cut the awkward silence left by my joke. For some reason this
caused her cheeks to tint slightly and for her to straighten in her chair.

"Yes?" She said drawing the word out, sounding completely unconvincing.

"You are pretty secretive about the things you like, like that book the other day, or this." At my, apparently
unexpected, observation she outright blushed.

She looked between the mug in her hands and me, all the while biting her lip and a look of deliberation taking over
her features.

"J'ai un penchant pour les sucreries," She let out suddenly in the same manner one would blurt out an accidental
murder confession.

"Moi non parler français," I said slowly and unsure of the words.

"Obviously," she said while holding back a laugh. "I said I like sweets."

"How is that weird?"

"You don't understand," she said all the while getting more and more flustered, "It's like I really, really like sweets.
More than it's acceptable."

"So... You have a sweet tooth? What does it matter?"

She looked at me incredulously "It's indigne! I mean undignified! I'm not a child!"

I couldn't stop my laughter, I truly couldn't. The look of Fleur's regal face so red and embarrassed because of
something so trivial was just too much. My sides which were already sore were now aching painfully.

"Don't laugh! It's not funny! It's very personal."

"Sorry," I said while trying to contain my laughter, "It's not a big deal Fleur, it's normal. Lots of people have a sweet
tooth."

"It's just... I'm not used to sharing personal things. I always 'ave to look competent or be dismissed, and eating sweets
like that makes me look childish."
"You don't have to hide those things with me, I know how capable you are. But I think I get it, I've had to ask for help
from the faculty several times and they haven't taken me seriously because what can a little kid know, right? Well, a
lot it seems, since every time I was right."

"Exactly. They always see the petite and ... cute?" she said, trying the unfamiliar word, "the cute blonde that can't do
anything too strenuous, it's frustrating. If I don't act totally in control one 'undred per cent of the time I get treated as a
child at best. And people never forget when you make a mistake, no sir."

She was working herself into a proper rage in her indignation, so I tried to steer the conversation away from the
expectations of others.

"Say... What's in the mug?" I couldn't keep the teasing out my voice.

" 'ot chocolate, perfect for this accursed weather." Well, she's right on that, despite the fire burning at the centre the
clock tower was pretty cold. Mostly because of the drafts. I just then noticed it was dark outside.

"How long was I asleep?"

"A few 'ours. It's nearly dinner time." At the mention of dinner, I felt suddenly faint. Funny how you don't feel the
hunger until you realize that you actually are hungry

"I'm starving. We should..." I trailed off remembering Ron's earlier apologies. I certainly didn't want to deal with that
right now, "I think I'll go to the kitchens."

"Why not the feast room?" She must have read the answer from my face, for she wrinkled her nose, "You should stop
avoiding your former friends."

"I thought you said I should forget about them," I said bitterness seeping into my voice, "Now you want me to forgive
him?"

"I didn't say you should forget about them, nor am I saying you should forgive 'im. I would not if I were in your shoes,
but we're not the same person. What I'm saying is you should stop avoiding them."

I closed my eyes and sighed, "I just want to eat some thick stew and forget everything."

"You are such a simple creature," lamented Fleur, "let's get something to eat then."

After Fleur stopped giggling in tandem with the fruit painting that guarded the kitchens, we got in only to be promptly
harassed by an exited Dobby. Apparently, he stayed as a Hogwarts elf after I freed him.

It struck me as strange since he detested being bound to the Malfoy family, then again, maybe the problem was the
Malfoys themselves. I wouldn't have thought Dumbledore would be amenable to enslaving a newly freed elf either,
but Dobby seemed happy and that was enough for now.

As bad as my French was, Dobby's was worse, and so the newly dubbed Flour and I found ourselves on a small
coffee table with enough food piled on it that I am actually guessing when I say the table is round.

We didn't chat too much at first, mostly because I was eating like I hadn't in a week. That chaining spell was
extremely draining, I still can't believe I manage to actually hold the Dragon. My body felt as if I had actually wrestled
the dragon myself, though.

"What did you do in your task? You don't look half as tired as I feel."

"That's because, unlike you, I 'ad a sane plan," I winced, "I used a charm that produces a cloud of stinking gas and
then disillusioned myself. It took 5 minutes for the dragon to move enough for me to take the egg and walk out."

"So you just... Walked up to it?"

"Oui."

"I'm feeling pretty stupid right now."

"I think you are too used to danger. You shouldn't use force as a first option, even if you 'ave more than enough for it.
Where did you even learn a spell that can imprison a Dragon?"

"In a book," I said too quickly, "and to be fair, I'm no good at subtle or overly complex spells. They just... Fail?"

"Dispel," Fleur corrected, "Yet you can pummel a huge monster with rocks bigger than you and 'old it in a net that
somehow didn't melt under Dragonfire."

I answered her sceptical expression with an honest shrug, as my mouth was full of roasted chicken.

She let out a long sigh, "I'm lucky my 'air is so pale, otherwise I fear it would go white just by being your friend."

"Shouldn't it go white faster if it's already so light?"

She looked at me fondly, "as I said, we are not normal people, 'arry."

I just shrugged again, it's not like I can refute that, "The best people aren't."

She smiled which such brilliance that it dazed me and I turned to the piece of chicken in my hand just to avoid her
eyes.

She didn't seem to notice my lapse, and so we continued our meal in each others company. It's amazing how I have
gotten used to Fleur just being... there. Even if just in silence.

"Thank you, though," I said, a bit out of nowhere.

"What for?"

"For supporting me with Ron earlier."

"I only said the truth. No one says something without meaning it unless they are lying, and even then they only mean
the opposite of what they say," She smiled, her eyes softening, "Besides, you did not look as if you were going to
answer."

"I just don't know how I feel about all this. And I was pretty out of it too, were it not for you I wouldn't have made it
back to the castle."

"That is what you get for playing with 'igh level, obscure spells. I still cannot believe you can cast spells like those."

"Jealous?"

She squirmed in her chair trying to keep her proud composure and lifted her chin higher, "Maybe."

I smiled widely at this. Coming from Fleur that was high praise.

"Don't let it get to your 'ead," She said with humour in her voice.

"Of course not. Maybe a bit," We both chuckled at this, "Don't worry Fleur, you are still a lot cleverer than me. Your
solution was so much more elegant."

"I am so much more elegant."

We both burst out laughing.

I would have to face the world eventually, Fleur is right. And I would have to deal with Ron too, and with all the
unprocessed bullshite I was feeling about it, but I would do it later.

For now, I would bask in this companionship, with this kind, proud and talented woman who was unabashedly
drinking marshmallow sprinkled hot chocolate with abnormal enthusiasm. The world will just have to wait.

Turns out the world doesn't really wait, it just starts without you.

I had the grand idea to start walking around without the cover of the cloak because let's be honest, Fleur is right, it
can't be entirely healthy to hide away from everyone.

Of course, at the time I failed to see the irony of getting that advice from someone that could cast a perfect
desillusionment charm, which is supposed to take a lot of practice to get right.

The first place I had to go was, surprise, surprise, the hospital wing. Why? Because I, like the daft idiot I am, left my
golden egg in the medical tent after the task.

Thankfully, Poppy knew I was going to get it; otherwise I would not have survived entering her lair so soon after
having been attended by her. Especially as she had explicitly ordered me to rest.

"I'm surprised you even remembered it so soon. I would have expected you to forget until a couple of days before the
second task."

"Your confidence in me is inspiring, Poppy." To be fair I just realized as she said it that I don't know *when* is the
second task. I was really out of it yesterday, guess I'll have to ask Fleur. Or maybe Hermione, since Fleur won't stop
teasing me if I tell her I forgot that.

Pomfrey smiled as if she, by some means, knew my thoughts.

"It's based on past observations, Mr Potter. Now run along, you have a mystery to solve and I have a ward to care
for."

I saluted, which caused her stern façade to crack a bit, and left the ward.

Next stop, the Great Hall. People kept looking at me in a strange manner and skittering away when I got to close, but
I paid them no mind. I was holding a big, shiny dragon egg under my arm; they likely thought it would hatch and eat
them or something like that.

It's quite funny really. I couldn't help but smirk when I remembered the time in first year when we snuck Norbert out of
the castle. Those were simpler times, when our adventures didn't have as much importance. My smile faltered,
maybe I would have my friends with me again after this.

When I got to the Great Hall the Gryffindor table exploded into cheers, with people shouting my name and generally
being rambunctious. I had to admit, that felt good. The rest of the houses were more circumspect, especially the
Hufflepuffs. But as I glanced towards them and saw a waving hand from a heavily bandaged Cedric, I could see far
less hostile faces than before.

I scanned my house table searching for two particular faces, it was harder than normal thanks to the extra faces from
some of the beauxbatons and the general rowdiness of my housemates.

Of course, it wasn't that hard either. Those two had particularly recognizable heads. And they were sitting together,
perfect.

Of the whole Gryffindor ensemble, only those two faces were not cheerful, but rather anxious. A pit formed in my
stomach.

Come on Potter, march on. It's only Hermione... and Ron. Sodding hells. There's nothing to it now, you already
started towards them, now you can't back down.

Or can't I? No! You can't just turn around while the whole Great Hall is watching. But why not? I mean-

"Mr Potter, a moment please."

"Motherfu-!" I managed to bite my tongue at the exact moment I saw McGonagall's raised eyebrow.

"I would suggest you don't finish that thought."

"Ahem, of course, professor." Gods damn it if I wasn't distracted. Though to be fair, if someone was able to sneak on
me it would be someone who can turn into a cat at will.

"If you could come with me, there is something I need to inform you about before you disappear into the castle again."

I blushed a bit at that, "Sure, could I just say something quickly to Hermione?"

"Go ahead then, I'll wait for you outside the Hall."

I let out a breath as McGonagall walked away from me, she scared the everliving... well she scared me. Enough to
distract my feelings from the task at hand for a minute, unfortunately, my nerves came as she went.

Hermione watched me approach biting her lip in the way she does when nervous, Ron, on the other hand, looked at
me like I was Aragog's son in for revenge.

"Hey, guys." A master wordsmith, I am. "Er, look I just, I mean we- I think we should talk. On the common room
maybe? It should be empty now." I was getting curious glances, but the general noise of the table made it so that I
don't think anyone else would have understood my words.

Hermione took one look at the panic-stricken face of her frozen comrade and nodded at me, pushing him to get him
to stand, "Let's go then, Harry."

"Right now?!" Ah, Ron is starting to catch up I see. I can hardly blame him though, not when my legs are wanting to
bolt from this situation and not look back, "but, but dinner!"

"I think that's the point, Ronald. Honestly." My lips twitched at tiny Hermione berating the gangly tower that was
Ronald Weasley, especially since it worked. It's only funny if you are not on the receiving end of it though.

"Actually, McGonagall wanted to speak with me about something just now. Sooo... maybe it'll have to wait a bit."
Saved by the Mcbell, maybe?

"We'll go with you and after you are done we can go to the common room."

Ron opened his mouth, probably to protest, but one look to Hermione and the way her hands were still on her hips
made him change his mind.

I turned towards the Ravenclaw table, looking for that small smile that never failed to lift my spirits. She wasn't there,
neither was she at the Gryffindor table.

And I was the reclusive one, I thought warmly.

They gathered their things and, for the first time in almost a month, the three of us left the Great Hall together.

McGonagall was waiting just outside, her stern face a contrast to her tartan robes. Maybe dressing in an extravagant
manner was a requirement for powerful sorcerers.

"Mr Potter," she looked at Ron and Hermione and let a long suffering sigh, "I was supposed to tell only you, but since
I don't doubt you'll tell them anyway... Besides, it's better to just tell you all and avoid giving you three excuses to
'investigate'," at this she shuddered.

"What is wrong, professor?" My heart was starting to beat harder, waiting for the bad news.

"Nothing is wrong, Mr Potter. I just have to inform you of one of the traditions to be observed during the tournament.
As I said before the official reveal is a few days out, but since you have gotten in the habit of skipping all your lessons
and sleeping outside the tower I thought it best to tell you first chance I got."

I just counted myself lucky I wasn't getting punished for sleeping at l'Ermitage. It would be worth it though, if only
because it lacks snores of any kind except my own.

"There is to be a ball at Yule in celebration of this sacred date and as a way to honour the champions of each
institution. You, as a champion, are required to attend; since the champions and their partners will perform the
opening dance."

"Partners?!"

Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow at this, "Well it would look quite strange for you to dance on your own, Mr
Potter."

"Dance?!"

At my exclamation she pursed her lips, "It is called Yule Ball, Mr Potter; what else did you expect If you require
lessons I will be holding those at certain dates. When I know them I will put them at the notice board in the common
room."
Then she nodded at 'Mr Weasley' and 'Miss Granger', turned on her heels and left. Just like that.

I sighted mentally and pinched the bridge of my nose, another problem to add to the list.

"Let's get going, while dinner is still on." At least you could count on Hermione to keep a level head.

There are situations when silence is the most terrible thing there can be. When it feels like breaking the silence will
result in dire consequences.

I'm quite familiar with such moments, they were quite common at the Dursleys, where every wrong word, every
careless notice could be met with a harsh punishment or unkind words.

I've never felt like this around Ron and Hermione and it made it all the worse for it.

We kept throwing looks to each other, gauging the other's mood. All the while the common room mocked us with its
cosiness, the fire cracking happily in the hearth.

"So, er... yes. I wanted to speak with you. With Ron. Well, both of you..." this was damn hard. "The thing is-"

"I am really sorry mate, I meant it before. I've been miserable these last weeks, and it's because we haven't been
friends. I miss you a lot, I-" Ron huffed "I should have known that being cross with you would hurt me as much as it
would hurt you."

My eyes were starting to sting, "Come here, you lanky git." I opened my arms and Ron, who was my brother in all but
blood, hugged me as if I was going to disappear.

"You stupid boys," came the suspiciously shaky voice of Hermione before she joined the hug.

And we were one again.

"I thought you wouldn't forgive me."

"How could you think that?"

"Because I know how much it hurt." Ron, who was as loudmouthed and outspoken as the rest of his family, sounded
now as broken as I've ever heard him.

"How could I not forgive you, when I know you were hurting in the same way. We were stupid the both of us, and if I
hadn't let my pride rule me I would have listened to Hermione sooner. It took a lot of time to process my bullshite after
all."

"Tell me about it," said Ron as we extricated ourselves from Hermione overzealous arms. His eyes were suspiciously
red but I didn't comment, and neither did he say anything about mine.

"But we are now good again, and that's what matters. Things have changed, yes, but there's always a place for you.
You were my first ever friend."

The smiles that met my words, from both of them, were worth any amount of fear and anxiety I may have gone
through.

AUTHORS NOTE

Hello people! I'm not dead! I was just working. Which means only dead inside hehehe.

Now, onto answering reviews

CaVaPaslaTete: Thanks for the long review! I really appreciate it, and it gives me something of a soundboard about
what the story may be lacking (and praise too, so...) You also got what you wanted this chapter, coincidentally.

Canuto-90: Mi idioma nativo es Español, así que cuando quieras puedes dejarme reviews en Español si así lo
prefieres. Creo que es muy pronto para hablar con total seguridad, pero si me gustaría extender la historia a los años
siguientes.

George1892: I'm really glad you enjoyed the dragon scene as much as me. About Harry being angry about the slap,
well he was caught unawares and was dosed with potions and really tired, so it didn't registered entirely (appart from
actually being staggered) and the immediate hug took the sting out of it. She was just very worried.

See you all in the next one.

*Chapter 11*: If No One Is Right, Doest It Matter?
Chapter 11

If no one is right, does it matter what you think?

The next week was... Strange. Turns out the reason people kept shying away from me wasn't the dragon egg as I first
thought. It was the newspapers.

As Cedric accurately predicted, the creepy reporter from the weighting of the wands was one to hold a grudge, and
the front page I denied her that day she made up the day after the task in spades.

Several articles made the Daily Prophet over the next days, all in what I came to know as her very particular style of
writing, and all of them casting doubt over my actions on the First Task, and in retrospect, I did fly of the broom
handle a bit.

And just thinking of brooms got me sad...

But anyways, according to that bitch Skeeter, the way I handled myself was more akin to a deranged criminal than a
proper champion of this 'great nation.' Of course the point was driven home by the nicely framed picture of my irate
face while I threw around curses that could turn bones into shrapnel.

This was her hook though, that particular spell. After all, no one could blame an innocent 'Twelve year old,' the blame
rested upon his mentors, and it was a well known fact that Albus Dumbledore fills that role in the life of the boy-who-
lived. And Dumbledore already has several colourful nicknames given to him by her poisonous quill on her regular
column too.

And what a coincidence that that particular spell hasn't been seen since the reign of terror of the self proclaimed
'Guide of the Wizardkind,' Gellert Grindelwald.

Several spells with similar effects exist, yes. But the sickly bright purple of this spell came to be feared during the
Great Wizarding War as much as the unforgivable curses, and it came to be one of the signature spells of
Grindelwald himself. Or so she wrote.

The only other wizard that was known to cast it was Dumbledore, during the famed duel in which he managed to
subdue the Crazed Tyrant.

And so she turned towards the questions of how did a student of Hogwarts learned a spell so dark and dangerous?
the signature spell of the most terrible Dark Lord to ever set foot in Europe, no less. The answer was of course the
senile Headmaster, the only other person to be known to have cast it before.

She used all that she had written previously on Dumbledore's strangeness, on his eccentricity and his more
questionable decisions to paint a pretty messed up picture of me.

It was really well made. Her stories and assumptions were exaggerated, yes; but they put a seed of doubt on the
minds of the general public. I could not blame them to be afraid of me to be honest, not with how unapproachable I
had been since my introduction to the magical community.

And now, after getting into a contest for power and glory and basically going into seclusion for a month I come casting
that kind of spell.

It did look pretty bad.

Hermione kept pestering me and asking me where I got the spell and I was running out of excuses. It was getting to
be irritating, but I couldn't bring myself to be mad over it. She's just worried.

I didn't want to share Dumbledore's journal though. It didn't feel right somehow.

After our talk at the kitchens Fleur didn't ask about the spells again. We had a kind of unspoken agreement about the
tournament. we don't talk about the tournament. At least not more than necessary, we are competing against each
other after all.
But I myself was worried. I knew Skeeter was just trying to besmirch my name, but what if she wasn't entirely wrong?
What if-

"I can see there is something on your mind, my boy."

Dumbledore's voice shook me from my internal reverie as I opened the door to his office.

"Yes, sir. I... Well I wanted to speak to you I guess, if you are not too busy."

"I am never too busy for a student that needs council, please take a seat." He said pointing towards the plain chair in
front of his desk.

With a cheeky smile and a whispered word I transfigured it into a purple and blue eccentricity that made Dumbledore
smile with pride.

"I see you have made time for more than the combat oriented magic." He said as I sat, his eyes twinkling.

"Not much, to be honest. But that old book of you-" he fixed me with a stare that clearly told me to stop talking, "I
mean my old book that you found?" I trailed off at this. I'm really bad at improvising lies.

"You mean the old diary of your father's friend? What was his name... Percival, yes."

Right, Percival. An advantage of having many names I guess.

"Right, yes. Percival's diary. It's full of so many interesting things, it's a shame I have to focus only on fighting."

"Hopefully you will have many years to study all the nuances of Percival, many as they are. Though I do have to tell
you, I'm really proud, my boy. Mastering the spells you used on the task is a feat in and out of itself, especially in the
short time you did."

"I don't believe 'mastered' is quite right. I still feel like I was run over by a train. And the shield I used was not quite
appropriate, my arm broke when the dragon hit it."

"That chaining spell always makes you a little sore after, yes," I looked incredulously at Dumbledore, sore was an
understatement, "As for the shield, I happen to be familiar with it, and if it had been cast anything less than perfectly
you would have had a lot more to worry about than a broken arm. You have to remember, my boy, you stopped a tail
strike from an dragon intending to kill, not the mere spear or sword it was meant to stop."

"I really should read the whole section of the spells, not only the casting instructions." I ruffled my hair.

"Indeed. Despite this, you used the tools you had to great effect against long odds. That was what the task was
about."

A small smile found its way into my lips at the praise. Coming from a wizard of Dumbledore's caliber it was really
flattering.

Of course I then remembered the reason I had come to see the headmaster and my smile withered.

"But I see in your face you didn't come here for praise, Mr Potter."

"No, I... I wanted to talk to you about the book. And the papers," Dumbledore's gaze softened at this, "I mean, they
are not wrong. I did use really dangerous spells, that curse is easily capable of killing someone, in a really painful way
too. And then the thing about Grindelwald, is it true? Was this to him like the killing curse was to Voldemort?"

Dumbledore looked at me over the top of his steepled fingers and closed his eyes for a moment, "Yes, that curse in
particular was favoured by Grindelwald; and yes, Mr Potter, I am the only other wizard that knows how to cast it. Until
you at least."

The only time I ever needed Dumbledore to be his normal self and give me a roundabout philosophical answer and
he gives it to me straight. I really tried to not let the comments get to me, but being called a crazed murderer in
training, being accused of becoming like one of those fuckers that destroyed my life and the life of so many people
like me... My clenched fists were shaking in aanger, in shame, maybe regret? My feelings were a jumbled mess.

Dumbledore let out a sigh as he turned his head towards the window, "I have to confess, Harry, that I hoped you
would never have to learn such spells. I did what I could do that you would be able to live a normal life, and for a time
I deluded myself in the belief that I had succeeded. Alas, the fates are cruel to us mere mortals," His face was sad
and his sight focused on a distant memory. "They are wrong, my boy. An artisan is not it's tools. People will always be
scared of the unknown, and there will always be people like Miss Skeeter who twist the truth to their advantage. I
should know, I've been under her quill enough times."

He chuckled, a bit of the normal merry headmaster coming back.

"I have done a lot of things that I regret, Harry. I've done things people would consider terrible. I've failed time and
time again; in fact, I have only truly succeeded in few occasions, even if most people would think otherwise. Such is
the burden men like you and me bear."

He stood from his chair and walked around the desk, leaning against it at my side.

"If I hadn't learnt that spell when I was younger I would probably have died when I faced Grindelwald. And if you
hadn't learnt what you did you may not have survived against the dragon. I'm ashamed to say that I could not have
intervened if the situation got dire, such are the bindings of the Goblet of Fire."

"But still, I lost my temper out there, all because of a stupid broom. And it's dark magic. It dangerous, sir, What if I got
pissed off at someone and ended up attacking them? I could really hurt them."

"The fact that you are worried about that should ease your worries, my boy. Magic is not dark even if it's dangerous.
Would you call a flood dark? Or an earthquake, maybe? They are not, they are part of nature. They are dangerous,
yes, and they can also be terrible, but they are not evil. We are wizards, Harry, we are forces of nature and as so, we
are dangerous; but in our decisions and our morals lay the light and the dark not in the spells we cast."

He put a hand in my shoulder comfortingly, making me look up from my feet, "You are a young man, Harry, you are
supposed to have wild emotions; and we both know that was not a mere broom, it represented so much more. But
even so you pulled yourself together and remembered what was important in that moment, you overcame your rage
before it controlled you entirely. You are a good man, Harry, never be ashamed of your strong feelings. They are
what makes you, you; they are what makes you strong."

He moved towards a small round table to the side and, with a couple touches of his wand, the tea set that sat atop it
startled into life pouring a couple cups of sweet smelling tea.

"I don't want to be presumptuous, my boy, but I have seen you grow up for the last four years, and yes, you have a
strong temper. You are also... Let's say free spirited," he smiled as he handed me the one steaming cup and I flushed
a bit. Hermione would have said thick headed, "but I've also seen how you care for your friends, how you risked life
and limb for a little girl just because she was your friend's sister, and then again for a stranger that had suffered
enough injustices."

He looked at me with eyes full of regret, "You are capable of love, Harry, of empathy, in a way that few people are,
and this is what will always save you from going down the path that so many powerful sorcerers chose before."

"How can you be so sure, sir? You say that I would do anything for those I love, and that is true. What if someone
hurts one of my friends and I lose it like that again."

"The world, my dear boy is not as black and white as you try to paint it. Even good men are prone to wrongful
behaviours, be them simple lies or acts most heinous, in the same way evil men are capable of acts of kindness.
What sets apart one from the other is the effects such acts lay upon the person."

"Like guilt?"

"Amongst other things, yes. In the end we are not isolated beings so there will always be others to judge your actions,
but-" and he lifted a hand as he intoned the last word, probably seeing that I was going to start wallowing again, "we
will also be the judge of their words. Don't feel hurt for the words of Ms Skeeter, Harry, she is not someone to look up
to in terms of character, to put it mildly. And you are neither the first nor the last to be slandered by her quill."

"I'm not worried about what she wrote. Well yes, I am. But I don't care that she said-" Words are definitely not one of
my gifts, I exhaled slowly as I let my body melt into the chair, "it's just... It got me thinking. I don't care if she says I'm
a manic killer, but... What if I am on that path? How would I even know? Maybe I should stop studying that spellbook."

"How would you know if you are a bad person... I dare say that is one question everyone ask themselves at some
point. I would say that you can't never be sure, the only thing you can do is do your best and then, as the time
passes, you can look back and judge your actions. And maybe hope that your mistakes were not so great." This last
part seemed to draw Dumbledore into a memory, for his downcast eyes lost themselves in something unseen.

"As for the book," he continued, "I glanced at it when I had it in my possession. I seem to remember it was a
handwritten journal of sorts, isn't it?"

I nodded waiting for him to elaborate.

"Such a thing can only be written by someone who is entirely familiar with the spells it contains, then. Some of those I
hadn't seen anywhere else, they may even be original creations," he gave me a meaningful stare.

I nodded again and then it hit me. I'm such a prat. My face flushed in embarrassment.

"I think you know what my council would be, then." he said with a little smile, apparently not offended at my
unintended insult.

I smiled through my embarrassment and ruffled my hair, "Er, yeah. Sorry sir."

"No harm done, my dear boy. I hope your mind feels lighter now."

I nodded slowly, still deep in thought. Dumbledore had just put a lot of ideas in my head, but for now I would take
solace in his opinion of my actions.

"Yes, headmaster. Thank you for your listening, you must have a lot of things to do. I won't take any more of your
time."

"I'm never busy enough to give council to a troubled mind, call it a privilege of old age. It's almost a requirement when
your beard is as long as mine to impart inscrutable wisdom, whether requested or not." He chuckled at this, "And it's
always refreshing when someone listens, for a change."

I gave a little smile and finished my lukewarm tea before going out again, feeling like I could join in the Weasley' twins
most recent jokes about my dark tendencies without the heavy feelings they carried before.

"I would 'ave thought you wouldn't care for the rules about visiting Le villagé."

The snow crunched under the wheels of the carriage where Fleur and I were traveling as it slowly moved towards
Hogsmeade. Today was the last day we would be allowed to go to the quaint little town before Christmas, and I
decided it would be a good time to honour my bet with Fleur.

"I'll have you know I always respect the rules," I said with as little irony as I could. Which of course made her burst out
laughing.

I held back a smile, but I could help how my eyes softened at her mirth.

"Say that again, Mon voyeur."

I ruffled my hair, yet again. A habit I really need to curb.

"I don't really care about those rules, but I would prefer if we could just walk around normally. It would be pretty
ridiculous if I were under my cloak all the time and you were to walk around speaking 'alone' like a crazy person."

"Well, oui. That's a good point. I would look quite strange at a table with two drinks and sitting alone. People would
think I was jilted," her hand raised to her chest dramatically and her face turned into a surprised mask.

My cheeks got red and I chuckled, "No one would think that, Fleur. At most they would think you drove away the other
person."

"And you wonder why I am so proud," she smiled softly at me, letting her hand fall slowly to her lap.

With a lurch the carriage stopped, snapping us from the look we were sharing.

Fleur sat straight and smiled happily, clearly exited.

"So, Mon Ami, are you going to open the door or not? I though Gryffins were chevaleresque," She gesture to the
carriage's door, "besides, as the winner of our little bet I expect a champion's treatment."

I snorted, "A couple points margin does not merit a champion's treatment," she opened her mouth to, most likely,
chastise me as a sore looser, "And you need to put your scarf and hat."

With a huff at being interrupted, and probably at my smirk, she wrapped a thick Gryffindor scarf around her neck till it
covered up to her nose and a wool hat that her sister had sent her by owl when she complained about the cold.

"Covered enough for you, Monsieur?" She said, her voice muffled under the scarf, her eyes the only part of her face
that laid uncovered except for some tufts of hair that sticked from between her scarf and hat.

"You will probably still complain about the cold."

"Well excuse me if I am used to a more reasonable climate."

I got out of the carriage snickering at her glare and welcomed the numbing cold winds as I helped her down.

"That gentlemanly enough for you, majesty?"

"It's a start."

A small smile passed between us as we started down the main Street of the only fully magical community of England.

"So, what do you think?" I said, having walked for a bit amongst the crowd of students doing last minute shopping
before Christmas or just walking around with friends.

Snow fell lazily, giving everyone a small dusting of white over the mostly dark overcoats. And making me look like I
had salt and pepper hair, probably.

"It is very pretty, like a painting made by a street artist. Pretty in an unrefined, natural way. Like an old, cosy sofa."

"I though the same the first time I came here. The snow on the rooftops and the smoke from the stone chimneys
make for a pretty charming sight."

"I never pegged you for a romantic, 'Arry," I could hear the teasing smile hidden behind the scarf.

"I know how precious something like a nice view can be," especially when for a big part of my life It was something I
didn't have, I added to myself. The view from inside a cupboard is a doleful one.

"Simple pleasures then."

"Yeah..." She turned towards me and bumped shoulders, making my contemplative mood evaporate.

"Hey, let's get your prize. Nothing cheers me up as a nice bar of chocolate." It was true, too. Since the dementors last
year, chocolate had a special place in my heart.

The corner of her eyes wrinkled in mirth and, grabbing me by the arm, she started pulling me forwards, forgetting
again that she had no idea were the sweets store was.

I merely laughed and let myself be pulled along the snowy street until we got close enough to Honeydukes.

"Come on Flour, the store is this way," I pulled on her so that she stopped walking in the wrong direction.

"I'll let the nickname pass because we are so close to free chocolate," she was almost skipping now, tufts of hair
bouncing free from their imprisonment and my black winter coat, oversized on her thanks to a spell, floating around
her figure.

If it weren't for her height she could be confused for a little girl playing in the snow.

But then we entered the store and all illusions stayed on the perch with the coat.

The store would have been warm only with the amount of people perusing the shelves. The fire burning on the hearth
behind the counter made it almost uncomfortably warm for me, but Fleur apparently wasn't bothered.

By the time I had taken my outer robe off she was already trying to choose between a set of animated chocolate she
had found.

"Planning your vengeance?" I asked as I watched her look between a chocolate dragon on her left hand that kept
spewing small flames and an octopus that she held on her right hand and was wrapping it's tentacles around her
fingers.

Her eyes locked on the dragon and gleamed evilly making the small chocolate construct try to hide behind its wings.

"Oh yes. I was going to go for the Mint Kraken but the dragon will taste sweeter with that in mind. Besides it's too cold
for eating fey mint." She put the exhibition sweets back on the display.

"What is the dragon filled with?"

"Fire whiskey, a lot better for winter."

"I'm partial to these," I took a couple of dark chocolate bars that I had last year, "One of my parents friends
recommended them to me last year, they are really good."

"I'll take a couple then. Oh! Look at that!" And just like that she pranced towards the next aisle where a young boy
was holding some kind of multi-coloured liquorice stick that randomly shot sparkles.

I went after her picking things that I thought she may like and some others for myself.

Honeydukes was always kind of a new experience for they had new products all the time. There was a jar filled with
flying honey bees that seemed like they would be really hard to catch, acid fairy wings, gummy bears that roared and
fought each other and so many more random things.

After a while we had each an armful of assorted sweets and I gestured towards the counter, only to be completely
ignored by Fleur that was now staring at a quaffle shaped jaw breaker in abject desire.

"How would you even begin to eat that?"

She sighed with an aching sadness that was comical in this trivial situation, "I suppose you are right. But look at all
the colours! Se est magnifique!"

"Come on, let's pay; I still have to show you another hog-place, remember?"

Slowly and pouting like a little child, Fleur followed me to the counter all the while muttering something about hogs.

The old lady that owned the store was, as always, all smiles and crinkly eyes. She took all our parcels and put them
inside a conveniently small box.

"That'll be twenty galleons, my dears."

I winced, 20 galleons is a lot of money. And apparently Fleur noticed, because she patted my shoulder comfortingly,
"You'll just 'ave to win our next bet, Mon petit chou."

"I'm not even going to ask what's a 'shou,'" I said as I counted the gold. Fleur merely giggled.

A loud sigh draw my attention back to the kind lady who was expecting payment.

"Sorry, here you go," I said as I handed her the money.

"It's no problem my dears. Enjoy your sweets! Oh you two are so cute."

I sputtered while Fleur thanked her with a small 'merci' and put a hand on my back to lead me out the store.

"I'm not cute! I'm a deranged junior dark lord! Haven't she heard?"

"I don't think that is what the madam meant. Though it is good to see you are no longer beating yourself up over
those articles," Her face scrunched in disgust as she donned her cloak.

"Yeah... I had a good talk with Dumbledore. He... Gave me some perspective."

"I'm glad," the tinkle of the door's bell announced our exit and the sudden cold from outside made her shiver, "I
always go to Maxime when I need advice too, at least when I'm at Beauxbatons. She always listens."

"It's weird thought. To go to someone like Dumbledore to just vent." I started to walk down the street towards the
infamous Hog's head, Fleur's arm brushing against my shoulder with each step.

"I don't know, in a way you are as much a public figure as 'im. 'e would know what you are going through, it makes
sense."

"I didn't thought about it like that, I just thought that he always has the answers."

"And you trust 'im. That's fair enough."

The snow crunched beneath our feet as we navigated amongst groups of people that alternatively glared at either
one of us or giggled in a way that was quickly getting on my nerves.

"Here we are," I said as I pointed towards the shabby looking store front.

"This is it?" She said as she looked at the old stone walls that were matted with dirt to the point of looking like black
stone. The windows were so dirty that the only thing you could discern looking through them was that there was light
and people inside. The wooden sign hanging above the door chose that moment to creak in the wind at the same
time the severed head of the pig depicted emitted a pitiable whine.

"It's called the Hog's Head, what did you expect?"

"I do not know, but I was not expecting une porcherie. 'ogwarts sounds unpleasant but I 'ave to admit it's pleasant
enough."

I opened my mouth to poke fun at Fleur's admission that she enjoyed the old castle when I was suddenly, and rudely,
interrupted by Fleur toppling over me, the sudden weight staggering me.

Being ankle deep in snow, I couldn't manage to shift my stance quickly enough to keep us standing; so I wrapped an
arm around her waist preparing for a fall.

Strangely enough, we didn't fall. Her weight felt no more of a burden than my school trunk does. how can anyone be
so light? she is still taller than me and I certainly aren't so light even being a scrawny git.

Fleur let out a low growl and I followed her line of sight to a girl with long, curly black hair that was walking away from
us looking back and glaring at Fleur with large, dark eyes.

Fleur quickly pushed herself off of me and, grabbing my arm she pulled me towards the dingy looking inn we were
inspecting seconds before.

The warm air inside the inn hit my face as I was thinking, What in the nine hells just happened?

The inside was marginally cleaner than the front would make you think. That is, if you ignored the fact that the floor
either was made from badly compressed earth or it had grown an overfloor. The tables, at least, looked clean, and
thanks to Fleur's haste we found ourselves sat quite quickly.

Some of the other patrons turn to look at us discretely, but mostly we were ignored, which was fortunate as most of
them look shady as all hells. The room was quite dim, in part thanks to the almost opaque with dirt windows, but
mostly because the whole room was illuminated by a torch in each corner and a big fireplace in the wall opposite the
bar.

"It smells like wet animals in 'ere," Fleur scrunched her nose as she divested from her hat and scarf.

"Well you are not obliged to stay lass, in fact unless you plan on buying something you should get out."

We jumped in our chairs and turned towards the suddenly there voice. It belonged to a tall, thin man with a white
scraggly beard that covered all of his face, except for his nose and his eyes that were such a bright blue, they still
looked piercing even through his dirty spectacles. Judging by the apron he was wearing he surely was one of the inn
workers.

"Well, Frenchie? are you going to get going?"

"Non. I'll be 'aving a vin chaud, please."

"Not in Scotland you won't."

Fleur glared at him, "Any warm, spiced wine will do."

The barman looked her up and down slowly and I clenched my jaw, "Wand," he said simply.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"What!?" Fleur asked, miffed, "I am of age, I am of Champion of the Triwizard Tournament!"

"So is this kid," he pointed at me without glancing away from Fleur.

"Hes got a point," I murmured, even though the kid comment stung. So, this is how wizards check if you are of age.

"'Arry!" She berated as she shot me a look of utter betreyal.

I shrugged. When you are right, you are right.

"It's just wine!" she threw her hands up in the air, "I'm French! we drink wine with the meals all the time!"

The barman scrunched his brow and pursed his lips, but it looked to me like he was actually trying not to laugh at
Fleur's indignation.

"All righ, Lassy, don't get your knickers in a twist. I'll get you your wine," he turned towards me, "What will you have,
boy."

"A butterbeer will be fine," I myself had to made an effort to contain my laughter at Fleur's fuming. The man smirked
at me and walked towards the bar.

"Le nerf de certaines personnes..." she muttered looking at the old man as he walked away. I snorted, even if I didn't
understand the words I got the idea. That made her turn towards me.

"And thanks for the support, 'Arry." She pouted and I couldn't hold my laugh back anymore.

"Well the man had a good point. Anyway who was that girl before? Did she push you?"

"I don't know, some tramp," she said despondently, "I do not know who are worse, The stupid sleazy gits that keep
asking me to the ball or the floozy airheads that keep glaring at me because of... well because of that."

"Where did you even learn those words?"

"I read," she answered simply.

"Oh, so it was in that plain cover book?" I said remembering that mysterious book she didn't let me see.

She just glared at me before taking the box with the dragon chocolate from our bags and holding the little construct to
her face.

"I'm going to eat you alive," she whispered in a silky voice as she caressed the little dragon in her hand.

"Charming..."

"Really?" She asked surprised.

"No. That is frankly disturbing, Fleur." Even so, that low and warm tone made a shiver run down my back. I was not
about to tell her that though.

"Let me 'ave my revenge, 'arry."

"Okay, Okay, go on. Torture the poor thing."

"You are no fun," she bit a wing off the dragon as our drinks floated onto the table, and the sound that came from her
throat after made me blush like a pomegranate. I grabbed a pack of Chocolate Cauldrons so that I would have
something to do.

"This is really good!" she said after the chocolate had probably melted in her mouth in the way Honey Ducks
Chocolate was famous for.

"I told you so," I took a bite of my own chocolate. She bit the other wing off and I grimaced.

"My sister is like you, she always gets upset when I eat animated sweets. She ended up making a collection."

"A collection of chocolate?"

"Oui! When I take 'er shoping for sweets we always buy two of each, I eat mine and she puts 'ers inside a crystal box
in 'er room," she laughed and took another bite, "'er room 'as wolves and snakes, gryffins, quimeras and phoenixes
made from chocolate or candy in every shelf and table. She's very sweet."

"Unlike her sister, the scourge of the confectionery kingdom," I lowered my voice to the most dramatic tone I could.

"Oh shush," the poor dragon was down to the head and front legs, "She 'as one of you too, you know?"

"I'm a Chocolate statue?" I asked quite alarmed.

She burst out laughing, "Non, silly, just a statue. She 'as a small statue of 'Arry Potter and the Troll on the Bridge."

"The troll on the bridge?" I don't know if I'm comfortable with that either.

"It's a book," she looked at my face for a moment and sighed, "You don't know about it, do you?"

I merely shook my head. She devoured the last of the chocolate and, and after a sip of wine moved her chair closer to
mine.

"There's a series of children books about you, you wouldn't be all that known outside of Britain if it were not for them
since Voldemort's menace was not really felt on Europe."

"Wow, just... Wow. I'm a fairy tale? That's crazy. Who even wrote them?"

She shrugged with that same dainty, elegant way that I had come to associate with her, "No one really knows, the
writer uses a pen name. There is merchandise too though, and Gabby 'as a small figurine from one of the stories,
where you use your incroyable wit to trick a troll guarding a bridge to let you pass safely."

"My incredible wit?"

"Yes, I know. Complete fiction." She smirked.

"Hey!"

"You stuck your wand up the nose of an enraged mountain troll when you were eleven, 'Arry," she said with a pointed
look.

"Well, in my defense he didn't try to negotiate either," my cheeks coloured.

She laughed, a melodious sound, "Stick to your shows of bravery, mon petite chou, you are more of a knight errant
than you'll ever be a trickster.

I smiled at that, "So that's from where you knew my name? That time before the selection?

"Yes, and I thought you were you were using that name to impress me. You 'ave no idea 'ow embarrassed I was
after," she laughed and turned her face away in an effort to hide her suddenly rufous complexion, "I mean I knew 'Arry
Potter to be English and young, so realistically you would 'ave to be at 'ogwarts; but I guess I always though of you as
a fictional character."

"So you though I was just a British kid trying to pass for someone important," I smiled at the idea.

"I apologized right away," her hands went to flatten the creases on her dress, something I have notice she does when
she's embarrassed.
"That, you did." Her smile turn towards me, soft as a feather, and as always I found myself returning her smile without
a thought. I still didn't know what colour her eyes were, the longer I stared at her the more times I changed my mind
about it. Blue or green was the closest, I'd say, but there was also the way the light played in them, so-

She adverted her eyes with a small smile and I realized that I had been staring. I turned towards my still intact
butterbeer and took a sip a to hide my embarrassment, I don't know if the warm feeling in my stomach came from the
beverage or from the small smile I couldn't help but notice on her face.

"So you still don't have a date to the ball?" I asked too quickly for my own comfort.

"No, and I 'ave no idea with whom to go. There is not a lot of time to get one either." tucked a piece of her golden hair
behind her ear.

"No idea at all?" my voice came out softer than I expected. It was an stupid idea anyway.

"Well I 'ad an idea, but it was not possible in the end. What about you?"

"Nope," I took another swig of my bottle and tried to look anywhere but at her. My efforts were undermined by the fact
that the ear that was now not covered by her hair had started to smoke, an as I noticed that her nose started to let out
a small column of white smoke too.

"Er, Fleur? You are smoking," she cocked her head to the side, "your ear." I said, ready to throw butterbeer at the first
sign of a flame.

"Oh, it's just the fire whiskey from the dragon, don't worry." She waved it off with a dismissive gesture, "It'll pass."

We sat in silence sipping our drinks for a few minutes after that. I don't know if it was just the suggestion of the image,
but I could swear that Fleur had started emitting a high pitch whine, like a teapot.

"What a pair we make, 'uh?" She snickered, "Two Triwizard Champions, talented and attractive; famous too, in your
case, and we cant get a date to a stupid ball."

"Well, we could... you know," I inhaled gathering my courage, "We could go together."

She turned to look at me in surprise, and then her face turned softer and her smile sad. My heart dropped at that.

Gods dammit I should just have stayed silent.

"It would be better if we didn't, 'Arry," she said quietly.

I'm not very aware of my facial expressions most of the time, though Hermione always says that I wear my heart on
my sleeve, and Fleur probably thinks the same for her face softened even further into a kind expression that just
made my soul melt.

"Oh, cherie, I didn't meant it like that," I turned my face away, ashamed of her comforting tone, "We can't go together
because we are both Champions, there is a rule against it."

I turned to look at her then, that sounded both completely sensible and utter bullshite. Is this tournament not about
'International Cooperation?'

"You don't need to do that Fleur."

"What do you mean?" her eyes searched mine.

"Sugar-coat it. I won't get mad because you don't want to go with me. I won't insist either."

"I am not lying!" She straightened in her chair, "Madam Maxime warned me about it, and I know that you don't care
about the rules but I do not want to piss my 'eadmistress off. She is one of the few people who 'as my back at
Beauxbatons."

"I- I understand," I ruffled my hair -I really need to stop doing this when I'm embarrassed- and chuckled. This seemed
to lighten the mood again and she snickered too, "It's strange though, isn't it? We are supposed to make friends and
stuff like that this year. International cooperation and all that."

She shrugged in a 'what can you do' way, "I guess that is all well unless you are the one competing. In the end we all
want to win, and it would send a message they do not want. Remember, there is money being made from this,
marchandise and such."

"That makes sense," I sipped my bottle, "Ugh, I am close to just not showing up. Even if I would have to duel
professor McGonagall for the insolence."

Fleur laughed heartily at this, her ears still letting out a column of smoke, "She seems like she would do that. I think
Maxime would lock me inside my room if I tried that."

"I am pretty sure Madam Pomfrey would have my back, so the idea may have some merit," I smiled imagining the
situation. Those are two fearsome women, it would be quite spectacular to be sure.

"Sadly, no one would 'ave my back, as you say, against Maxime, so I will 'ave to pass."

"What a killjoy," I teased, "Why did Maxime even told you about that rule."

"Je ne sais pas," She blurted in a single breath. I raised an eyebrow.

"I do not know, she thought I needed to know I suppose."

We drank again and I found my bottle to be empty so I looked towards the bar and gesture towards the blue eyed old
man. Another bottle came flying and pushed the empty one from the table, but instead of falling it floated back
towards a box next to the bar. I couldn't help but smile, I love magic.

The little show didn't faze Fleur in the slightest, she was merely cupping her steaming glass in front of her steaming
face, her lips taut in a pensive expression.

"Maybe we could just go together anyways."

"I thought you didn't want to get on your headmistress bad side," I tilted my head, my heart beating a bit faster.

"Well, if we went with someone else, but ended up spending the rest of the ball with each other they could not
reproach us. We would not be breaking any rule, right? After the opening dance we should be free to... mingle? I think
mingle is the word."

"Yes, it is. Isn't it a bit cruel though? What about our original dates?"

"I don't know," she raised her arms, exasperated, "it was an idea. I would probably end up trying to loose whomever I
go with. Maybe they can get together? Your date and mine. At least with you I could 'ave a nice time."

It is a rare event to see Fleur so vulnerable as she looked in her chair, sad and fuming. Literally for the latter.

"Well, it is not a bad idea," she perked up, "let me see if I can ask a favour of a friend, all right? I don't think we would
have a good time if we were hiding from your overzealous date."

"And what about your overzealous date?"

"Oh Please, who would go with a crazy puppet from that old coot Dumbledore, who could start throwing curses if you
step on his foot."

"You would be surprised, monsieur dramatique," she smiled. "Okay, talk to your friend. Maybe that night won't be so
terrible after all."

"Cheers to that." I lifted my bottle and she clink it to her glass, an airy giggle caressing her lips.

The ball was not looking so bad all of a sudden. Now I just had to think of someone who would be agreeable to this
little scheme.

Authors Nooooote

1 When Aberforth asks Fleur for her wand is to check her age, to see if she is old enough to drink. I could not think of
another way to go around it.

2. I have typos sometimes, you'll have to deal with it. English is my second language and I've never had formal
classes in it, so I don't actually know any grammar. I don't have grammar, I have vague intuitions. But the same can
be said about my mother tongue so... Yeah. (Also, I'm writing this on a phone which doesn't help the matter.)

3 If the typo is in Fleur's speech then assume its a French word that's written very similarly to the English equivalent. I
do this because as a bilingual person who doesn't really practice speaking in English a lot compared to reading this
tends to happen to me, when a word is written similarly in both languages the pronunciation gets a bit tricky and i feel
it gives fleur a more natural accent.

4. I wont put translations of the few things fleur says in French because Harry is pants at French so he doesn't know
what's being said. that said I think you'll always manage to grasp the tone of what's been said, which is what Harry
does.

5 The interactions in this chapter were hard to write because I wanted to showcase so many nuanced thoughts and
feelings that even Harry himself hasn't grasped entirely and I don't know if I made it in a way you all will get it. I hope I
did. I do have to say that we must not forget Harry is not only a fourteen year old boy (and Fleur is barely seventeen
for that matter) he is also an abused child that hasn't been treated well for 5/7 of his life. So keep that in mind.

NOW TO ANSWER REVIEWS

Ahm, yes:

Dragonhitter: first of all, fucking thanks, mate! Having someone say My story is incredible, as is the way I write is just
plain flattering. So, yes; Harry is young, just a kid really but he has a huge potential as ollivander kindly reminded us
in a criptic manner during the weighting of the wands, he is supposed to be the equal of one of the wizards most
feared for his power and ability. But he is not there yet, won't be for some time either.

Also, what you said about the reunion with Ron is just what I was aiming for, so not much to comment there. More on
this topic further on (probably)

Ilikehotdogs: I'll be your dealer, my man. And don't worry my absence was not because police busted me, I was
merely busy, heh.

SKFF: We're on the same boat here, I too love this story (ha ha, I know) and I too normally don't enjoy things in first
person. What possessed me to write a story in first person? Ask Apollon, maybe he knows. I certainly don't.

It's not that the interactions between Harry and Fleur are meant to be light and stuff, it's just the way their
personalities play with eachother. The original spark of curiosity between them came from the fact that they have had
similar struggles in life, to an extent; and so that understanding translates into that easy flow between them.

About the ball and all, they want no drama, that have enough of that in their lives. Yes there is some tension but that's
normal between people who like eachother, and Harry already realizes that he likes her. He's liked her as a friend
from the moment she apologized after the selection, and he finds her beautiful even if he's been trying not to for the
sake of her comfort, but he now knows he likes her more than that. She too has realized something similar as you
have had glimpses, especially in this chapter, but more on that will come on later conversations. (Damn it! I'm trying
not to spoil my own story)

Miwtbornlax: don't forget how young the characters are! And don't dismiss the bond they share so easily. I would bet
you don't have a brother your own age, no one can hurt you as easily as a brother and have you forgive it as fast.
Especially as you see him almost die without being able to help, trust me on this I wish you never know the feeling.

Also, Fleur doesn't really have a superiority complex. She is just too guarded, and to avoid being hurt she is mean.
After all, the less People close to you the less People who can hurt you. When she acts superior with Harry she is just
playing, and he mocks her for it most of the time. The Fleur that comes out when she is with Harry is the 'real' one.

Schlpian: believe me, my friend, if I had the whole story written I would post it right now. Or at the very least pm it to
you for feedback. Alas, I have to write in what little time I find from work, and sometimes I get stuck. I try my best
but... (insert Shrug emoji)

Tomekk: yup mate, just busy. Don't worry, this story is constantly growing in my mind I just need to get the time to get
the words on paper. But I work at a restaurant and if you've ever done that it's self explanatory.

1529: He didn't really jump to that conclusion, it was just and irrational thought from an abused youth scared to be left
alone. And yes, he is supposed to be immature, he is fourteen. And in that scene in particular he even acknowledged
the fact that he was being immature. He just didn't care because he was feeling hurt.
And I'll just stop here because I have almost 1k words of authors note (with awful punctuation to make matters
worse), but after so long an absence I thought it would be nice to leave more feedback with my readers. Can't believe
it's been like two months, time fucking flies.

Till the next time, my people. Hopefully a loot sooner

*Chapter 12*: No Just Reward Ever Came Without a Chall
Chapter 12

No Just Reward Ever Comes Without a Challenge

"Hey, Mione."

"Hum... Yes, Harry? She kept her eyes on the book currently in front of her, paging through it with a hand while the
other held a quill.

The common room was relatively empty, with only a few people milling around. Despite the climate most students
were relishing in the newly given freedom that, as of today, they had been afforded. Yesterday had been the last day
of term.

Of course 'most of the students' doesn't really apply to my good friend here, and as so she was using her free time to
cross reference 'that one thing that professor Vector said that was really yada, yada...

"Hermy!"

"Don't call me that!" Finally she stopped looking at the yellowed pages, if only to glare at me.

"Well, it got your attention, innit? You been on that book for ages." I cracked my neck to illustrate how much time I
had been trying to get her attention.

"Sorry," she murmured, rubbing her neck in a way that was eerily similar to Ron, "It's just that this is so interesting!
the possible applications of matricial approximations in spell creation and-"

"Here we go again..."

"Sorry, Harry," she had the good graces to at least blush.

"Don't worry it wouldn't be you otherwise, but do try to listen now."

"Alright, but if you ever call me Hermy again I'll try an experimental charm on you," her brow furrowed in disgust, "I
barely stand Mione, But Hermy is crossing a line."

"Okay, okay. no need to get miffed," I lifted my hands defensively. She kept looking at me expectantly, "Oh right, I
meant to ask if you had a date for the ball."

That caused a reaction. She dropped her quill and started stuttering, all the while getting remarkably rufous.

"Harry! Are you asking me to the ball?"

"What? No! Well yes, I mean kind off... Look I just needed a favour."

"Because that would be... weird."

"Hey! I resent that," I crossed my arms broodingly.

"You know what I mean." Hermione was holding back a laugh, the little shit.

"Maybe... It was still mean."

"So you still don't have a date, do you?"

"Nope. What about you? that's right, I haven't forgotten you didn't answer."

She became spectacularly scarlet once more and started fidgeting with the pages of the book.

"Maybe..."
"Come on Hermione, what's the big deal? yes or no."

"Well, as a matter of fact I do have a date."

"Huh..."

"What do you mean huh? Is it so hard to believe someone would ask me?" She straightened and leant back on her
chair glaring at me.

"Of course not. And stop being defensive, I wont ask you who it is if you don't want to tell me. Ugh, I hate this shite." I
let myself drop sideways into the couch. Even though I wasn't looking at Hermione I could almost hear her frown as
clearly as I heard the crackle of the hearth.

"It really irks me when you curse."

"Whatever."

We stayed in silence for a while, only the sounds of the empty common room on the background.

"What was the favour you were going to ask me? you didn't say."

"It doesn't matter, anyway." I turned so that I was laying on my back on the couch, and I could hear shuffling as
Hermione put down her book.

"Harry..." that tone was always half warning, half sympathy. I do not think anyone else has managed such a tone.

"Well I was going to ask you to the ball. Kind off."

"Really?" she sounded surprised.

"Yeah. I mean, I asked Fleur and-"

"Oh, Harry," is that pity? "She said no, didn't she. That little- Hussy!"

"What? No!" and then I could only laugh as I got what she called Fleur. "Language, young lady!"

"Shut up! She said yes? Wait, then why were you going to ask me?"

"No, she didn't say yes per se."

"You can be so insufferably, infuriatingly confusing. Say what you mean, Harry." The exasperation in her voice was
getting too real.

I sat back again so that I could look at her, "Apparently there is a rule against two Champions going together, so we
can't go with each other."

"Really? Where did you learnt that?"

"Fleur told me, Maxime told her. I suppose she read it on the contract or... you know what? I have no idea where the
rules to this thing are written."

"Which doesn't surprise me, at all." She smiled at my half-hearted glare. "Didn't professor Dumbledore or Mcgonnagal
tell you that?."

"No. but maybe they didn't thought it was necessary, after all Fleur is the one girl amongst us. Who else would I ask?
Krum?"

"Hey I'm not one to judge you."

"Ha, ha, ha. you sense of humour know no bounds. In any case, we can't officially go together but there is no rule as
to what we can do during the ball."

"What does that have to do with with you inviting me. oh!"

"Sharp as ever I see." I smiled thinly

"You wanted to do the whole opening of the ball with me and then dump me." She deadpanned.

It was my turn to splutter and blush, "No! no, no, no. I would enter with you and have the first dance and then you
would go to your actual date and I would stay with Fleur."

"And what about Fleur's date?"

"Same thing I guess." Hermione looked rather skeptical.

"I suppose it is not a bad plan, especially for your standards, but I... can't."

"Yes, I imagined you would say no. That's why I said it didn't matter anymore. You are not one to like that kind of
dupery."

"Hey, I've gotten into enough 'dupery' with you and Ron before. Besides it's not that I don't want to help you. You
know that I don't like Fleur, but for you I would give her the benefit of the doubt. At least for the ball. But I can't."

"Why not?" Her fidgety hands were never a good sign.

She breathed a deep sigh, "I have to do the opening dance."

"Oh come on Hermione, I have to do that either way. I know its embarrassing but it will just be five minutes, how bad
can it be?" Maybe I was jaded to the stares of other people but it was not that bad. She lifted a hand in a stop
gesture. She was biting her lip nervously as she tended to do.

"You don't understand, I cant do the opening dance with you because I have to do the opening dance with... my
date."

I'm sure my eyes must have looked comical with how wide they opened, almost as much as my mouth which was
surely gaping like a fish. "What! Who? With who?"

"With Whom, Harry."

"Stop dodging the question!"

She crossed her arms "You said you wouldn't make me tell you."

"You-" I pointed at her, perhaps a bit too aggressively, "You are right, sorry." I huffed and threw myself back into the
couch, "Damn. Well, you can say that you were asked by two champions. Who would have though." I smirked.

"Three actually," she said with a smug smile that could be heard, "Not bad for a toothy mudblood, huh?"

"WHAT! Don't ever let me hear you calling yourself- that! Okay?!" I jumped, yet again from my resting position to glare
at her.

"Hey, okay. Jesus, it was a joke."

"Well it was as funny as my jokes about becoming dragon dung. And what do you mean three?"

"Just that. I was asked by three champions, including you. And don't smile at me like that, I wont tell you which one I
accepted, you'll have to wait for that day."

"So," I said into the silence after a few minutes, "It *Is* possible that you are going with Fleur."

"You little-"

My raucous laughter was interrupted rudely by a flying pillow to the face, she huffed in an attempt to look insulted but
the corners of her lips were twitching suspiciously.

In the end she went back to her book and I went back to lounging in the couch trying to think of a solution to my little
dilemma.

After a while people started trickling inside the common room, most going up to the dorms. During my bored watch of
the people who walked in and out a particular group caught my eye.
"Wait up, girls!" I scrambled up from the couch after the trio that was getting up the stairs to the girls dorm rooms,
"Katie wait, I need to-"

I jumped up the stairway several steps at a time, and then I was on my ass several meters from the stairs with the
world spinning and full of giggles.

How could I forget, again, that magicals tend to ward the way into the girls' rooms?

Fleur would be laughing her ass off right now.

Clearly the wards do more than just banish you into your arse because as soon as I tried to sit up I nearly puked.
Everything was doing the merry-go-round around me and the blur of colours was getting to be to much, so I clapped a
hand on my mouth and clenched my eyes.

"Oh, look Angie. Katie has a paramour." That sounds like Alicia.

"How forward, Harry, you can't go to her bedroom for a first date." More damnable giggles ensued after Angelina's
comments.

"Be careful, Katie. He likes blondes." Said the mirthful voice of Hermione.

"Traitor!" I exclaimed full of indignation. I opened my eyes and the carousel had mercifully stopped, leaving me to look
up to the huddled, giggling figures of the Flying Foxes, as Lee likes to call them when he commentates the quidditch
games -After Professor McGonagall made sure he couldn't say the word vixen through a sonorous charm.-

"So, should we leave you two alone?" Angelina gestured between a clearly embarrassed, but amused Katie and me.

"Well, unless you plan to stop making fun of me, yes. Give us a minute." I got up from the floor and walked towards
the fireplace, far from my treacherous friend and my amused teammates. Katie followed me there.

"Hey," I said, like the master wordsmith I am.

"Hey," she tucked a piece of her blonde hair behind her ear, "haven't spoken to you in a while, huh?"

"Yeah, sorry about that," I ruffled my hair -yet again, in going to have to start keeping track of this habit- "It's my fault,
really. I've been a recluse this year."

"Where have you even been staying? I've heard you don't sleep on the tower anymore."

"Oh, you know. Here and there." Evasive maneuver, I know. But l'Ermitage *is* my private place.

"There are some rumours, you know? About you and the French Champion." She said, in an uninterested tone that
was clearly forced, even to me.

"Oh yeah?"

"Is that where you've been sleeping?"

I choked and started coughing at the directness of the question, "No!" Dammit, she was giggling again, "I just found a
quiet place in the castle. After the selection I didn't really felt... Welcomed around."

"Hey that's okay, Harry. I was just teasing; and I know, Angelina was quite crossed. She was really hoping to be
chosen, as were many others. But she's calmed since." she smirked, "The rumour does exist though."

I covered my eyes and sighed, "I know, I know. And It's got no basis, okay?"

"I'll choose to believe you, especially because I would prefer not to think of the little brother of the team sleeping with
a fit seductress." She laughed at my expression then, I really am not prepared to be submitted to this mortification.

"By the Gods, stop it," I pleaded, she of course only laughed louder. Katie always did have a cruel streak on the field,
and apparently it extends beyond it too.

"You wanted to talk to me though, didn't you? After all, you fell on your ass for something."

"Ah, yes. Well you see, I need a... favour."

She lifted an eyebrow, "You know, Harry? You are pants at this."

"Well, since I'm not probably doing what you think I'm doing, I think you can't judge."

"So you are not asking me to go with you to the Ball?" She said, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Not... Exactly. But yes, in a way."

"Oh, I understand completely."

"How do you even manage to sound so sarcastic?"

"It's a natural born talent. You should hear my mother talk."

I made a face that clearly said I should do no such thing. "Look the thing is, I need someone for the announcement of
the Champions and the First Dance only. And since I'm not fond of being slapped by random girls I thought to ask my
friends."

"So why not Hermione? Not blonde enough?" She twisted a lock of hair between her fingers teasingly.

"You girls enjoy being cruel, don't you?"

She laughed, "A bit, yes."

"In any case, Hermione can't help me. I just asked her."

"I may be able to help you. But," She looked at me up and down, "I do need to be in on the plan. Why do you even
need someone just for the first dance? Is it not easier to just get a normal date?" Her eyes widened suddenly, "oh! I
know, you want to bail afterwards!"

I let out a sigh, "No, I'm not leaving afterwards. I'm staying."

She gesture for me to continue speaking. A bit too insistently. Agh, sod it.

"Look, Katie, Fleur and I wanted to go together, but we can't. So the best solution is that we go with someone else
and after the first task we stay with each other."

"Fleur?"

"Yes, the French champion!" I said a bit irritated.

She opened her mouth in an 'oh' gesture. A silent 'oh' gesture.

"Katie?"

"You two are together!" She exclaimed.

"No, we're not. We're just friends."

"But you like her." It wasn't a question, and as so I didn't gave an answer.

"Okay."

"What?"

"I said okay. I'll help you, I'll open the dance with you."

"Really?" I looked at her brown eyes, I didn't expect she would accept.

"Of course, silly. What kind of teammate would I be if I didn't. I'll be your wingman," she let out a loud guffaw, "get it?
Because we fly in quidditch and-"

"That was awful, Katie." Her jokes were absolutely terrible on a good day.

She shrugged as if to say 'I know, what can you do.'

"There is one condition though."

"And that would be?" The glint on her eye was not a good sign.

"You see the Twins are organizing a huge snow fight outside, and we could use someone with your reflexes on our
team."

I smiled, it was pretty obvious she was just trying to get me to go to one of the unofficial house activities. But you
know what? It could be fun, so why not?

"You got it," I clapped hands with her as we do before a game, "meet you outside, I have to put some warmer
clothes."

"Harry, you do know that your dorms are not that way, do you?" I heard as I went towards the common room's
entrance.

"Yup!" Of course, I keep going outside. My things hadn't been on Gryffindor tower for months now.

"DUCK!"

As soon as I heard Fred -or George- scream I faceplanted on the snow, and not a second too soon, for a sudden
barrage of snow balls suddenly passed over me.

I turned towards the other side of the field and saw through my skewed and dirty glasses some black and yellow blur
waving a hand over his head and laughing.

"Everyone watch it!" I screamed before, with a word and a gesture from my wand, burrowing a makeshift trench in the
snow. All the Gryffins threw themselves in it.

"Those lousy gits!" Came the dulcet tones of an angry Angelina.

"You did tell them that we weren't to use magic, didn't you?"

"Of course I did!" Complained one of the twins.

"But if it's magic they want..." Said the other.

"Oh yes, let's show them."

"Do you remember the thing dad was tinkering with?"

"We could transfigure it from a ball of snow. But the elastic thingy..."

"Well, we got Harry here." The redhead pointed at me without turning from his brother.

"True," he smiled evilly, "and you know what's better than a snowball to the face, my dear brother?"

"Of course I do brother," he replied with an identically evil smile, "Do you have them with you?"

"Always," and he pulled a huge leather sack from his pocket. How in the hells did that fit there?

"So, a switching spell? Like with the-"

"Yup! Now, on it George!"

Though most of the others were, by the looks of it, utterly confused; Angelina, Alicia, Katie and I were by now used to
the way the twins would brainstorm ideas and merely waited.

"Come on guys, help me make a big ball of snow. Not you, Harry." Said the now identified George as he crouched
and started to pull snow together.

"You hold this, my friend." Said Fred as he handed me the leather bag. The smell was awful, and it was obvious why
as soon as Fred reached into it.
Dung bombs. I smirked, nasty; how like the twins.

He started to carefully line them up on the snow next to George's... Snow man?

"Oi, Creevey! Start with a bunch of snowballs and put them in front of these. The rest distract the other team while we
work."

In little time they had a decent amount of snow balls parallel to the dung bombs. Fred's brow furrowed, his eyes intent
on the mixed spheres on the floor.

He raised his wand and his eyes narrowed, then a mist seemed to pass from the dung bombs towards the snow balls,
tinting them a yellowish colour.

"Ready George?"

"You know it, George."

Wait what? Which one is Fred then Nevermind, is that a sodding cannon?

The huge ball of snow angelina, Alicia and one of the Georges were piling up had been at some point transfigured
into some kind of plate with several protuberant hollow tubes atop a wooden platform.

"What the fuck is that?" I looked as the twin with the yellow snowballs started levitating them into the tubes.

"Don't rightly know, mate. Dad saw some drawings of this shit and tried to replicate it. It's some kind of a rotating
cannon, it's supposed to have some kind of mechanism to shoot inside, but dad didn't manage to make it work."

"We don't need it though," said the other redhead, "we just need you to put that nice banisher of yours to good use. I'll
aim, you load," he said turning to his brother.

"Sir!" Saluted the addressed.

I stood behind the strange contraption at my housemate's behest.

"Angie, shield us! Katie, raise us!"

I fell to my knees as the floor under me raised into a pillar too quickly, putting the twins and me right into the line of
snow projectiles that were flying over the trench before.

The snow hit an invisible barrier just in front of us and fell to the floor. It looked as if our adversaries were using some
spell to duplicate their snowballs and someone else and then levitating them to have someone else banish them. It
was an idea.

"Harry! Cast! Cast!" Screamed George.

"Alicia! You load the... Thing. Fred, you know the duplication charm?"

"Yes, but... Oh! That's brilliant!" His eyes widened as much as his smile, making him look a bit crazed.

"After I banish them, yeah? Aim it a bit upwards."

"Depulso," I ordered to the round yellowed ball and it took flight.

"Geminio" I heard from my right. The sky exploded in a shower of yellow.

"Manibus," came from my left and the cannon twisted, putting another smelly ball of snow in front.

"Depulso," I repeated, my lip quirking when the sounds of disgust started coming from the other side of the field as
the tainted snow started falling on them."

"Geminio!"

"Manibus!"

"Yes! Chaaaaarge!" Ron's voice resonated from somewhere on the trench, and all the others resumed the attack,
banishing big chunks of snow directly to the front.

The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were now falling under the two-sided barrage and trying to get away.

The twins and I kept our casting in a way that sounded almost like a chant, strained from trying to hold back a laugh.

What a turntable.

The other team sank into the ground without warning. No! It was-

I crouched and cast a shield. The others didn't sank, the ground in front rose in a wave of snow that fell on top of us.
Fred and George were within my shield, I could not hear anything but for the sound of the snow sliding over my
charm like it was alive.

In a couple of seconds it has passed over us and I could see my house mates. A few had managed a shield in time
but the rest had been roughhoused by the unexpected attack.

A deep, mirthful laughter echoed throughout the grounds. I turned towards it to be rewarded by a deeply amused
Dumbledore, wand in hand, standing at the foot of the stairs of the castle's gate with a gaggle of curious students
from the foreign delegations.

There was one in particular that I could recognize just by the shine on her hair.

"Nice reactions, Mr. Potter. And you too, Miss Weasley, especially given your age," Ginny had been one of the few
others to shield in time. And she almost started steaming with how red she got from the praise. "You should all get
inside and get a nice hot shower," he said to the ensemble, "we wouldn't want you all to catch a cold just before the
ball after all."

At the words of the headmaster the students started to trickle back inside, laughing and talking after a snow battle
that turned more epic that I had originally thought it would.

Katie and her friends passed me by and smiled, hair tussled and looking as wet as I felt. Yup, time for a nice warm
bath.

"Good evening, Headmaster. I gather the avalanche was your doing?"

"Indeed, my dear boy. One nifty little spell if I do say so myself, as useful as your imagination allows. The Weasley
twins would find it quite useful, they have a very creative mind. I taught it long ago to Percival."

"I see, maybe he'll pass the wisdom." I directed a small smile at our inside joke.

"I'm sure he will, Mr. Potter. Now let's get inside, I believe there are some friends waiting for you."

I started towards the door, and a waving Fleur. Strangely enough, Hermione was standing next to her, a smug smirk
that was at odds with her flushed expression. Ah well, I guess I'll find out later.

The important thing is that there was one problem less in my future.

"So," Hermione turned towards me as I flopped down on Fleur's conjured chair, "how did it go with professor
McGonagall?"

"Mr. Potter! If you step on my foot one more time..."

I shuddered at the recollection.

"Fine, fine. Kind off. I'm knackered thought."

"You should have started with the dancing lessons earlier."

"I know, no need to rub it in any more. McGonagall made sure I knew it."

"And how was it? Are you any good."

"As good as dead when I step on Fleur's foot."

Her hand covered her mouth fast as what have you and she started giggling in the most girlish manner I had ever
seen, her wild hair bouncing in time with the uncharacteristic sounds.

"Uhm, Hermione? Are you alright?" My brow furrowed in worry for my friend.

"Oh of course I am, you big prat. And I don't think you have to worry about Fleur judging your dancing skills?"

"How do you know? Agh, it doesn't matter anyways. If Fleur doesn't then Katie will, she's meaner than most think." I
kicked a book that was near the chair, and I hate to say it, I pouted.

"Katie is a darling." She waved me away.

"Exactly my point." I muttered.

"And to answer your question, I know because I had a little chat with Fleur yesterday."

"Oh yeah! That's right, you were with her when Dumbledore decided to bury half of his fourth years. I meant to ask
you about that then, but I forgot. You looked kinda... Strange."

Her cheeks turned a pretty Gryffindor colour and her lips pressed together in a self satisfied expression.

"Four out of four."

I frowned, confused.

"What do you-" my eyes widened, "she didn't."

"She did," she smiled, "granted, it was a bit awkward to be asked on a date by another girl, and it was not a date per
se, But still. Four out of four."

I broke out into laughter, "Oh Gods, hahaha, I'm so going to tease her for that, I wiped the tears that had resulted
from my laughter, "And what has this ball done to sweet, shy, bookish Hermione. She's now fawning over *gasp*
boys! And a girl too!"

"You nit," she smiled at me, "I don't know... It's kinda nice to be appreciated. I am not paid a lot of compliments most
of the time, and now every time some arse makes fun of my teeth or my hair or whatever I will remember that four
Triwizard champions though I was cute and ask me on a date."

I smiled fondly at my old friend, she did deserve a bit of an ego boost.

"And I know that you and Fleur don't really count since you asked for other reasons, and you are my friend and she's
a girl-"

"Hey! I do count, I may be your friend but I think you're cute too. And for all you know Fleur thinks it too," her eyes
softened, "No one can resist Hermione's beauty! Not even other girls!"

We both laughed at that.

"Besides, Krum and Cedric both asked you, and one is an international quidditch star and the other is pretty
handsome himself. That counts."

"You think Cedric is pretty handsome? Is there something you want to say to me, Harry?"

"Come on, and I'm the prat?"

A new fit of giggles ensued. This tournament has been... A disaster, in some levels. But between my friendship with
Fleur, the new level of confidence I have with the headmaster, the new magic I'm learning, and now this about
Hermione's self esteem, it looks as if it's bringing as many gifts as challenges.

Lets wait and see what will come next.

Authors note:

Nothing fancy to say, hope you enjoyed it, sorry if there is too much dialog and too little action, but hey, we can't have
dragons every chapter.

Or can we?

Also, I forgot to put this part when I uploaded the chapter, so if you get two notifications that's why

Now to clap back on some reviews.

Dault3883 Barron backlash: worry not, Mon Ami, for of they'll get together or not. As most fanfictions this has a
spoiler in the tags, and is in that Harry/Fleur pairing.

Saya4haji: reviews like yours give life to my battered soul. Few people read things deeply as you, and fewer still
make a more or less extensive commentary on what they think about it and the things they interpreted.

As a writer, I look forward to hearing people's opinions on my writing as you look forward to writing more. So thank
you friend, glad you are enjoying this story.

Smoke a pound: and fuck yourself when you're done fucking first person.

Ilikehotdogs: I'm not a fan of bashing without a purpose, and there may be some hate towards Dumbledore later.
And maybe towards me too, but oh well, that decision is not yet made.

Antares gracefold: again, look at the tags of the story. There's a spoiler there that will ease your worries. It's nice to
know that I'm not the only one to reread some interactions on my favourite book/fics. It is really nice to know that my
story is worthy of that. Cheers mate, thanks for the kudos.

Molomar: well, you could *ahem* recommend it to your friends, of course. That would get it a bit more recognition.
Though I have to say, more than 500 followers is more than I expected for my first attempt at writing in a foreign
language and in a not so popular pairing
*Chapter 13*: The Yule Ball
Chapter 13

The Yule Ball

A draft came into the room through a crack in the window I was trying to use as an improvised mirror, my previous
attempt at transfiguring something for the purpose as effective as a murky pond.

The wind played with the robes I was trying to look at, the elegant, black garment flowing in the wind as smoke.

They looked well fitted which was a relief, as It had not been easy to put them on. They were pretty different to the
school robes I was used to.

It was a whole outfit made of several different fabrics, all of them as thin and soft looking as Fleur's school robes -an
those were silk- but even then they protected against the bite of the winter winds as well as a heavy fur cloak.

The innermost robe was of a deep black and heavily embroidered with a golden thread in leafy shapes which
contrasted nicely with the lighter tone of the outer fabric and it's dark black, geometric embroidery.

The last piece was a long one sided cape that dropped from that same shoulder, all black except for the trim which
had a squared pattern also in gold. How had Hermione called it? Ah, yes. A meandros.

All in all, it had a pretty elegant feel to it. It looked a bit exotic too, like something from the far east would. I wonder
why Ms Weasley chose it.

I laughed as I remembered that at one point Hermione had suggested I invited Parvati to the ball. She probably would
dress in something in this style.

The wind blew again, making me decide to start my way towards the entrance hall, where I was supposed to wait for
Katie.

On my way there I could not help but go over the steps McGonagall had tried to teach me, but I didn't know how
much it would actually help. Dancing was not one of my greatest skills. Not by far.

It didn't help that I kept getting distracted by the decorations. The castle looked... different. The courtyard was filled
with floating garlands of mistletoe and colourful crystal spheres, the dull stone of the walls and floors shined lightly as
if sprinkled with a fine silvery dust and every painting and tapestry had joined in the festive decorations within their
frames.

There was faint music coming seemingly out of thin air and I almost tripped over a handrail when an enchanted suit of
armour decided to scream a carol at me.

The enchantment on the Great Halls' roof seemed to have been extended to the hallways at least partially, as there
was warm snow falling from the roof and candles with coloured flames floated around leisurely.

There was already a gaggle of people waiting outside the closed doors to the Great Hall when I got there.

Everywhere else there was a blur of shapes and colours. Everyone was wearing something completely different,
some people almost look like normal muggles, but others couldn't be mistaken but for what they were. Cedric was
right by the door holding an animated conversation with Cho Chang.

Huh. So that answers who's going to be Hermione's partner. Said person stood some ways off from his fellow
champion, sulking, as usual for him.

Viktor Krum was dressed as if he was attending a military dance, and the seriousness of his black and red fitted robe
was dampened only by the slacking posture he had when he was forced to keep his feet on the ground.

Seeing as neither Katie nor Fleur were here yet I approached Cedric. He had been nice enough this whole time,
despite being the one with the most reasons to dislike me.

"Harry! How are you mate?" His normally handsome smile looked unusually strained, but seeing how reddened and
starchy the right side of his face was it was hardly surprising.

"Well, I'm here, so I could be better," he laughed in response, "How are you though? I saw you all bandaged up the
day after the Task."

His face scrunched in a grimace, and I couldn't help but notice the worried expression that flashed on Chang's face.

"Yeah well, It could have been worse, I owe you for that. I guess you didn't see me, since you were the last to go. I
had the Swedish dragon, tried to distract it with some rocks I transfigured into dogs but..." He made a vague gesture
with his hands and grimaced again.

I nodded, "They are smarter that people think, aren't they? I thought that by flying around a bit I could make it move
from the nest."

"Yeah," he shuddered, "I managed to take the egg before it saw me and started running back when it blew fire at me.
It didn't even hit me, I was just out of range, thankfully, but just a near pass was enough to burn me. The heat is
incredible."

"Tell me about it. I think it didn't affect me so much because I was moving so fast. And I had a lot of fire retardant
charms on me."

"I didn't think of that," he lamented, "fortunately it was not too bad a burn," he touched his cheek lightly, "it does feel a
bit... stiff. The skin I mean."

"To be fair I didn't think about it either, it was Hermione's idea."

"Well, it was a smart move," He shuffled on his feet and touched his scar again, awkwardly enough that even I
noticed. That's when I remembered that he had asked Hermione to the Ball.

"So anyway, you and Cho, huh?" I said in an effort to move past that hitch.

"Yup," Chang chirped happily, apparently relieved that the conversation had moved away from the task, "he asked
me a week after the announcement. What about you? Waiting for the French champion? What was her name?
Delacour?"

My eyes widened, "What? Why would I be?"

"Oh," she looked surprised, "Aren't you two together? It's what people are saying."

"No, we're not. Besides, she's a champion. Champions can't go together."

"They can't?"

"Is that a thing?" Said Cedric.

I shrugged, "Apparently. It's kind of weird, Fleur says that it's probably to keep us as competitors and not friends."

They shared a look and then turned towards me.

"So," started Chang, "who is coming with you then?"

"That would be me," I heard Katie's voice behind me before I saw her. She was wearing a dark red, long sleeved
dress that looked like a knee long really well fitted shirt; and her blonde, wavy hair down. It suited her.

"Hey there Katie," I smiled at my teammate as she stood beside me.

From there the conversation flowed mostly thanks to Katie and Cho for a couple of minutes, I'll be the first to admit
that between my nerves at dancing, and trying to catch a glimpse of Fleur I was not really paying attention.

That is until Katie elbowed me in the ribs and gestured towards the main stairs.

I glared at her and turned to look at what she so delicately tried to direct my attention to.

Atop the stairs a girl with a light blue dress started to descend, and as she got closer I could see that she was actually
quite pretty. And I got the point when she got even nearer and I could distinguish that the face framed by that softly
curling hair was that of non other than my best friend.

She waved and sent a small smile towards me on her way towards Krum.

Un-fucking-believable.

"Is that Granger?"

"She looks gorgeous, don't she?" Said Katie, sounding proud, if a bit amused, "I helped her with it."

"When did she get so- so-" words seemed to fail Cho in her quest to describe what, exactly, Hermione had become.

Cedric had the good sense to stay quiet as we all gawked after my bushy haired friend.

My no longer bushy haired friend.

Bizarre was the moment where she got to Krum's side and he... smiled.

A nice warm smile, even. On his normally surly face it sure looked strange, though it did flattered him.

That is until he caught me staring and his smile melted seamlessly into an aggressive frown. Talk about a one-eighty.
Even Hermione looked at him strangely after that glare.

"What did you do now, 'Arry."

"I'm completely innocent this time," I said as I turned to my side, towards the exasperated voice of the one person I
was waiting for.

There are times when I am just sitting by the fire with her, talking, or maybe reading a book, or moments when we are
just walking side by side and I'll be looking at the road. In moments like those it just escapes my mind how
devastatingly beautiful Fleur is.

The colourful light of the numerous candles floating above danced around on the shapes of her expertly sculptured
figure, her deep blue dress a frame guiding the eyes with its shining embroidery, ever twisting and turning on the trim
of-

As I noticed where my eyes where going I blushed and lifted my eyes, only for them to fall on the exposed valley of
her long neck instead of her eyes.

Fuck.

With the utmost effort, all the while scolding myself, I managed a shy smile while locking eyes with her.

Her hand raised to her hip as she giggled, iridescent eyes shining full of mischief, "You are irréparable."

I blushed a bit more, but did as she would have and raised my chin, "So you keep saying, even though its your fault. I
used to be quite the agreeable fellow, you know?"

This made Katie snort, and in turn it made me remember that we weren't alone in l'ermitage, this time. "You got into
the Quidditch team by getting into a fight and then breaking the rule about flying unsupervised, Harry. You were never
agreeable."

Everyone laughed at that, including me. To be honest I was quite proud of that. Even if at the time I was scared
shitless of McGonagall and her punishment by the hand of Wood.

"That sounds quite like the 'Arry I 'ave gotten to know."

"Anyway," I interrupted, amidst the giggles of the three girls in our little group, "Katie, this is Fleur Delacour, fellow
champion. Fleur this is Katie Bell, my teammate."

Katie held her hand out, "and his Date," she put on the brightest smile she could and leaned on me after shaking
Fleur's hand. The smile on Fleur's face froze a bit.

"Yes, I 'ave noticed," I did not like that tone.

It was too even.

"So, where's your date? The Ball is about to start. You would not-"

"Katie!" I scolded in a whisper. Why was she being so rude?

"Oh, 'e should be around 'ere. I told 'im to meet me just before the start. What was 'is name?" she waved a hand as if
trying to conjure a name out of thin air, "Rocher?"

"Roger? Roger Davies?" Said Chang.

"Oui, that's the one. You know 'im?"

"Yes, he is the captain of my house's Quidditch team."

Everything got pretty weird, pretty fast. Katie and Fleur were having some kind of stare-down, only with plastic smiles
instead of frowns, and Cedric and Cho were looking alternatively at us and then at each other. I had even forgotten
about Hermione and Krum, which were by the looks of it chatting amicably a bit farther away.

Fortunately, or maybe not so much, Professor McGonagall came through the crowd at that moment.

"Champions, if I could have your attention please. The Ball is about to begin, the doors to the room will be opened in
a few minutes for everyone else to enter; you however will stay outside with your partners," at this she shot a pointed
look at Fleur, who summarily ignored it, "Then the herald will call for the champions in the same order that you
completed the first task. You will then enter and take the position marked for you and your partner and -oh!"

"Hello professor," interrupted a tall, handsome man who looked vaguely familiar from the Quidditch pitch. He walked
towards Fleur and stood by her side, putting a hand on her back.

"You are late, Mr. Davies. I was explaining the protocol."

" 'e is precisely when 'e was requested."

I think I'm never going to stop feeling in danger when McGonagall purses her lips as she did in that moment, but I
guess that Fleur was not conditioned to recognize the sign.

"In any case, after you are announced and enter, take the spot marked for you and wait for the music of the opening
dance. After the music stops, take the places marked by the hanging banners at the head table."

She raised her hand and the giant double doors opened smoothly. The move was so natural and fluid that I almost
didn't noticed the wand in her hand. And later I couldn't see where it disappeared to.

Whit a dismissing nod, McGonagall entered the brightly illuminated room and left us standing in front of the door, the
crowd slowly moving around us to get inside too.

Krum and Hermione had come closer when McGonagall was explaining what we were to do, and for some reason
Krum kept looking at me like I had kicked his puppy. What's up with that?

I tried to share a look with Fleur to point out to her the weird behaviour of our competitor, but as soon as I managed to
catch her eye Katie elbowed me in the ribs and shoot me an excessively bright smile.

Needless to say, I was lost in this particular game of charades.

Krum was trying to make me ignite with a glare, Katie was acting strange and hanging from my arm as if she couldn't
stand on her own, Fleur was avoiding my eyes now and I was starting to get miffed by how this Roger bloke was
eyeing her.

At least Hermione looked as confused as I did. The only ones acting normal where Cedric and Cho who where
whispering to each other and generally being disgustingly sweet.

"Harry!" Katie pulled my arm from where she was hanging on.

"Sorry, what?"

"I was asking how well did the lessons go."

I blinked, still not really into the conversation, "what lessons?"

"The dancing ones. With McGonagall."

"Oh! Well... Not good, but not terrible either," I ruffled my hair a bit, "It just takes a lot of practice to get it right, and I've
been right distracted, which doesn't help matters."

"I'll have to lead then," she sighed.

"You dance?" For some reason I could not imagine rough, tomboyish Katie, who always had calloused hands and
bruises on her arms dancing away in a puffy dress.

"Oh yes, my dad taught me, he loves to dance. It's part our bonding time. Dancing with him is one of first things I can
to remember. I had to stand on his feet," her face softened into a small smile, and the image of a tiny blonde girl with
dirt on her knees and grass on her hair tottering in circles made me smile too.

"I never would have guessed."

She shrugged still looking at the crowd, and still leaning on me, "He's a gentle man. Loves music and stuff like that,
he would have an apoplexy if he saw me flying at a game," she smirked, "or even worse, if he saw you. Now come
here, everyone is almost inside."

Indeed, the tail of the crowd was slowly disappearing through the double doors. Cedric chose that moment to look
between Katie and me and throw me a wink only to be elbowed by Chang. I wisely chose to ignore them.

Fleur passed by me without as much as a glance, her posture as proud and regal as I had ever seen her, and stood
in front of the double doors with her… date, hanging from her arm.

"Stop frowning, you almost look like Krum," Katie pulled on my arm and guided me towards the place we were
supposed to stand.

"I most certainly do not," I protested, "I'm not even frowning. Why would I be frowning anyway?"

I received only a sigh in response.

"And what did you do to Krum? He looks ready to kill you and drink wine from your skull."

I stared at her. did she really said that?

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Never mind," I said as i shook my head slightly, "little weirdo."

"What was that?" she frowned.

"Nothing. And I did nothing to him. Not that I'm aware at least."

"You are not aware of a great many deal of things, Harry."

"Hey!"

"It's true," I huffed.

"And what's the deal with you and Fleur? You are both acting strange."

"See? you are clueless," she pressed herself against me even more and batted her eyelashes at me, a bright smile
adorning her face, "I'm making her jealous."

"What? Are you insane what for? And jealous of what?" She merely looked at me as if I was being purposefully dense
and lifted a brow, "Of me?" I shook my head, "That won't work, she wont get jealous because of me," but even as I
said it I paled a bit, imagining the fireballs that a scorned Fleur could cast, "and she is too proud to fall for that."

"Hailing from the famed Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, I present Fleur Delacour and her companion, Roger Davies
of the House of Ravenclaw."
The queue moved a spot as first Fleur entered the hall, then Cedric and Cho, and then Krum and Hermione all of
whom were announced in the same way, leaving Katie and I on the threshold.

The path from the entrance was made up by a long black carpet that extended up to the centre of the Great Hall,
where a circular platform, of what looked like white marble from this distance, had been erected.

"Taught by this very school and competing in his own name, Harry James of the House of Potter and his companion
Catherine Bell of the House of Gryffindor."

That was strange. They didn't introduce me as a Hogwarts student for starters, and...

"I don't think I've ever heard anyone call you Catherine before."

She made a face while still maintaining her smile, which was impressive to be honest, "Well that would be because
my name is actually Katie. Its not short for anything, but I guess they though it sounded too informal. It wouldn't be
the first time."

"Well, my Lady Catherine of the House of Lions, we wouldn't want the peasants to confuse you for one of them, huh?"

She held back a laugh, "That's one posh accent you have there."

"It's the tone my uncle uses when he has a business dinner at the house."

"What a dickhead."

I coughed to avoid cackling.

The dance floor was indeed a raised disk of marble in the centre of the Great Hall. The other three couples where
standing each in a particular quarter of the platform, and as we climbed it I could see that the floor was marked with a
coat of arms under each champion.

Mine was a shield cut in two by a lightning bolt. Cute.

The Headmasters and organizers were sitting at the head table and after a moment Dumbledore stood up and used
his wand to clink a crystal cup that appeared in his hand within the same movement. I blinked. That was pretty damn
smooth.

"Attention all," he opened his arms to the hall, as if trying to embrace us all, "Welcome, Ladies and gentleman,
students and more importantly, welcome to you dear guests. May this first part of your visit have been a pleasant one,
and may what remains of our time together be even better."

He took a long pause and I used it to look around me. Towards my friends, to foreigners that didn't look so out of
place anymore, to the castle itself and how different and full of life it was compared to other years. And to my new
friend.

I caught her eyes and we exchanged a small smile.

And we weren't the only ones to do so. Everyone took that moment to admire the things that the tournament had
brought.

"We are here today as you all know, to celebrate this beautiful winter day with a ball. Or at least I hope you all know it,
otherwise things are going to get a bit awkward," a few laughs swept through the room, "We celebrate the day with
the hope of the next, we celebrate this winter as it gives way to beautiful spring, we celebrate with old friends
amongst the new. Today we rejoice in change and new beginnings, and it is in the darkest of our days that we can
revel, for only light can come after," he smiled at all of us, "In short, we celebrate the death of the old and its rebirth."

As soon as the last word fell from his lips a flash of fire exploded over him, and as the light cleared, on his shoulder,
stood Fawkes, his wings stretched open in a pose that oozed majesty.

The hall exploded in applause.

"That was wicked!" exclaimed and exited Katie next to me as she clapped almost violently.

"I don't know which of the two are more of a diva, him or Fawkes," though I had to give to them both, I thought as I
clapped, it was a nice opening to the ball

"That's the name of that bird?"

"Yeah. Though 'bird' is a bit of an ugly word to use for a phoenix, don't you think?"

"Well, yes but-"

"And what better way to celebrate," continued Dumbledore as the hall quieted, "than sending the night off with the
strum of well corded strings and the sweeps of beautiful dresses."

He waved his wand once more, materializing a set of musical instruments. From the crowd, five wizards dressed in
matching back and white robes climbed to the dance floor and took the instruments. Katie took my hand then, making
me jump a bit. She gestured to the others and I spied Ced and Cho holding onto each other, ready to dance. I took
the cue and readied myself.

The Bass was the first to strum, and with them came the light but insistent push of someone who actually knew what
she was doing as Katie determinedly stepped into the dance.

I let myself be led, lightly swaying in time to the strings.

"You are awfully tense, you know?" said Katie, "I can feel it here," she pinched my shoulder blade where she was
resting her hand, making me jump out of time.

"Yeah, well. I'm not all that good at this, you know?"

She giggled and closed her eyes, "Just listen to the music, Harry. Feel it and let it move you. Feel my hand, the one
that you are holding. You'll feel how I'm going to move there."

I breathed in and loosened up as much as I could, and then I felt a small pull on my hand. I responded, and sure
enough we moved in that direction. Then came a step to the side and another pull, another step and a push.

I smiled a bit and let the tide of strings take me.

"See? It ain't that hard, innit?"

"I suppose not," I whispered.

"Good. Step with the toes, though."

"Like this?" It felt faster like this.

"Yep," She opened her eyes and smiled. I smiled back and turned to look at the others. And promptly stepped on her
foot.

"Hey!"

"Sorry."

"Eyes on me, Mister. If you move your head around you'll loose sense of where I am."

"Like on a broom? The body goes to where the head looks."

She smiled, "Wood would be proud you can quote him."

I scoffed, "It would be worrying if I couldn't. Gods know he repeats himself enough."

We were slowly moving along the edge of the circular dais, though I dared not look again how close of far were the
other champions.

"Now, keep doing this same steps. I'm going to spin."

"You are going to what?"

It was so fast that I could do nothing, but watch as she spun outwards. Fortunately I did not trip.
Her smile was a testament to how much she was enjoying the dance, her hair bouncing with each step.

The music became more intense, and with it Katie became more daring. I limited myself to the same basic steps that I
had been repeating for the last minutes, while she swayed and spun, swift and graceful.

"Get ready, Its about to end."

This was the part of the dance that McGonagall had put more emphasis on.

And so as the the first silence came I stepped firm and Katie, taking creative liberties, unfurled in a spin until we were
side to side our arms extended and only our fingers touching. The orchestra sung again in time with her retreat into
my embrace, and another silence. At last, she dipped into the last strum of the violins.

The rest of the room broke into applause as we recovered. She held my hand and made a curtsy which forced me
into an awkward bow.

Dumbledore kept clapping until he was the only one doing so.

"And now, after that magnificent opening, let us feast!" He clapped again and a carpet materialized from the foot of
the dance floor up to the head table.

Taking it for the invitation it was we went up to it and sat, once again, at places marked for us with the same coat of
arms.

Dumbledore sat at the middle of the table, with McGonagall to his right and then Cedric -as Hogwarts champion- with
Cho. I was right next to them with Katie to my right, Then came Fleur and her partner and then Krum and Hermione
with several ministry officials claiming the end of the table.

The other headmasters and teachers where to the left of Dumbledore, presumably in a similar order to us.

A cluster of tables appeared atop the dance floor at Dumbledore's behest and started floating slowly to the places
where they would rest for the remainder of the night, the people moving out of the way and sitting in those that had
stopped moving. I smiled at the simple show, Dumbledore always had a way to make magic seem... well, magical.

"You are right," Katie whispered in my ear, "he's a diva," and then giggled to herself.

I looked around the hall with a bit more focus than I had allowed myself before. The four traditional christmas trees
had been relegated to the corners of the room, and the hundreds of floating candles were now decorated with
colourful bows. A few pixies were flying around too, sprinkling a shiny dust here and there as they flew. I don't know if
that was a good idea, considering their mischievous tendencies, but they appeared to be behaving.

The numerous small round tables that replaced the normal four long ones made the room look completely different
from normal as did the sheer amount of people, and the multitude of colours that they wore.

One thing was missing though. The food. The golden plates were still shiny and clean, well, mine at least, for Cho
and Cedric were already eating.

"You don't happen to know where the food is, do you?" I asked Katie, who shrugged. My eyes landed then on Fleur,
who merely rose a brow.

"Oie de la Saint-Michel," she said while looking me in the eye. Her plate filled with some sort off roasted meat and
she, smirking, turned her attention to Davies who said something to her. Something that she didn't like judging by
how her shoulders tensed.

"Apparently you seduce your dish into existence," I almost cackled at Katie, who shook her head and started reading
her menu.

"Roasted beef?" I said to my plate, and sure enough something appeared in it.

"I think this is duck," I poke it with the fork.

"Well, you did sound more like you were asking a question, not ordering a dish."

I shrugged. It was roasted, and it looked really good. I had gone with far worse at the Dursley's.
The meal went by in relative calm, and quite quickly. Katie focused on her food as if she had just played a Quidditch
match, though with much more grace than say, Ron. Not that it was particularly difficult, that. Cho seemed to be as
focused on Cedric as Krum was on Hermione, who was speaking quite passionately about something that I couldn't
hear.

Davies, on the other hand, was just staring at Fleur. And by that I mean that he was quite literally holding his head in
his hand and watching her with his complete focus, a small, stupid smile on his face.

She continued eating as if he was not there.

"That's creepy as all hells."

Katie looked at me and then turned to where I was looking.

"What the- What is he doing?"

"Beats me."

"It happens from time to time," said Fleur while looking at her plate, "It'll pass."

"If you are sure," said Katie sounding completely unconvinced.

"Come on!" said Katie as she pulled on my hand, "Lets dance again."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

She rolled her eyes and pulled me to my feet, after which I could do nothing more than follow.

"I want to speak with you before you make your daring escape with your princess," She giggled.

"It's not like that, Katie. I've already told you, We are just friends."

"And precisely that is what I wanted to speak about," we were one of just a few more couples dancing to the slow
music that accompanied dinner, "You are not just friends. Even if neither of you seem capable of accepting it."

"I-"

"I mean you are always making eyes at each other and sharing goofy smiles,"

"I'm not goofy!"

"And you are always together like, there is a rumour that you sleep in the carriage."

"What?"

"Well, no one knows where you are staying except that is not in Gryffindor's tower, or any other of the house dorms
for that matter. And don't deny it, you like her."

"No duh, like every other bloke."

The hand that she was resting on my shoulder flew in a precise arc towards my head and back, "Ow."

"No, Harry. Not like every other bloke. I mean yeah, most everyone fancies her, but look at those legs. Even I'd tap
that."

"Katie!"

"Point is, that if you were sitting there next to her you wouldn't be like Roger Mccreepy there. You would probably
have given her shit for criticizing the Yule decorations and she would have laughed."

I smiled, "Yeah, she'd say that a 'barbare' like me wouldn't know, in the thickest accent she could manage."

"See? you have a goofy smile already."

"All right, I do like her. What of it? Just look at her. It's not going to happen."
She sighed and lead me in a few spins around the dance floor.

"You sell yourself too short, Harry. But that's not something that I can help you see. Ponder this, though, have you
ever seen her smile at anyone like she does at you? Has she ever not made time to be with you?"

I stayed silent, shuffling around almost gracelessly now.

"Why are you so set on this?"

She shrugged and looked away, "We have lived and played together for four years now, Harry. I've seen all the things
that seem to happen to you year after year, I've seen... we have all seen your scars. On the team's changing rooms.
We know you don't speak about it, but we- well, we are not stupid. And maybe I think that you deserve a bit of
happiness after all that."

We danced in silence then. What was I to say? This was a part of me that I buried deep, something that I didn't think
about while I'm in this new world. I never expect anyone to notice, and what she said sounded too much like pity.

"She is not some prize to be earned." I whispered.

"And I know that, what kind of person do you think I am?" She frowned, "look, I don't know her, but even I can see
that she has her fair share of problems too, and she looks like a whole other person when she is with you. I think you
are good for each other, am I that wrong?"

Katie sighed and looked into my eyes again, "Despite all that happened this year, I think I've never seen you happier.
And she is obviously happier when she is with you too. I just wanted to give you a small push."

We were quiet after that, shuffling around the room while I thought. I knew that I was falling for Fleur, I knew since
that moment after the first task, but anything beyond that is not something that I've even let myself consider. And with
the pain of loosing a friend so fresh still... it's not something I wanted to subject myself to again.

The song ended before I could find an answer to my dilemma. I suspect that it would had been the same had the
song lasted for another hour. I looked at Katie as we stopped our dancing and she smiled as brightly as I had ever
seen her, "So, this is were I'll leave you. I think I see Alicia by the drinks," she smiled once more and went towards
our friend.

"Hey, Katie," she turned, "Thank you."

"Nonsense, I had a great time."

I stared after her for a few seconds as she strutted towards Alicia, who was laughing at something Fred or George
had said, when someone bumped into me. More couples had joined in the dancing and I was just standing there,
about as conveniently placed as a Wednesday's appointment so I scurried towards the head table before I drew more
attention, or more lost elbows.

Fleur was still sitting at the head table eating some kind of tart covered in powdered sugar and staring straight ahead
while Davies spoke to her, still in the exact same position he had been when I last saw him.

I never thought I would ever see Fleur frown while eating something sweet. I may still be confused about what Katie
said, but no matter what I thought about it, she clearly could use some help. As much as it would be really fun to see
that stupid smile of his charred off.

I shook my head and headed towards her; maybe I should just stop thinking so much, It's never been one of my
strong points. Let things go on their own accord.

That sounded almost Dumbledory.

"Oh, look," I said as I came before her, "If it isn't the sweet's scourge."

Her eyes turned to me before slowly focusing in the span of a couple of blinks before smiling in recognition, "I'm sorry,
Monsieur, I was mesmerized by my companion's tale and didn't 'ear you. Did you call me a sweet scourge?"

I rolled my eyes and fought the smile that was raising to my lips, "Close enough. Say, would you like to dance? When
you finish your meal that is. And if you don't mind, of course," I said as I turned to Davies, who completely ignored
me.
" 'e does not mind," she got up promptly and cleaned her sugared lips with a napkin, "let's dance then, Chevalier."

Fleur was up and around the table in less time than it took his unfortunate date to realize he was speaking to an
empty seat, and down the steps towards the open area of the hall in the time that it took me to shake the realization
that the back of her dress was cut in a similar way to the front. I shook myself and went after her, catching up in an
open area near the windows overlooking the grounds.

"It took you long enough," her brow furrowed in that cute way that always managed to make me smile, "that buffoon
was driving me mad."

"That bad?"

"Ugh, 'e made me leave those delicious little cakes 'alf eaten!"

"No! What a monster!"

Her lips quivered, hiding a smile, "Shut up and dance."

Slowly she came close and I held her like I did Katie. Only she was not Katie, a fact that no part of me made any
effort to ignore. The drum of a heart that was completely out of tempo accompanied my first steps as I attempted to
lead her, mi fingers barely brushing the silky softness of her dress, and her even softer hand.

We tumbled to the left and right a couple of times and I kept looking at our feet, trying to follow hers and then
remembering that it was I the one who was supposed to lead.

I raised my eyes to her giggle and saw her biting her lip in a half smile that looked suspiciously like a smirk.

"Yeah, yeah. Laugh all you want, I'm terrible at this."

And laugh she did. Not loud, no, just giggles, but in the uncontrollable manner of someone being tickled.

"We. We are terrible, mon ami. I think we 'ave found our bane. La Valse," she breathed and covered her eyes with the
back of her hand before promptly resuming her giggles, "Dieux et héros, I 'ope we didn't look like this when we
opened the Ball."

I shrugged, "Katie lead me, she's really god at this."

Her good humour faded in an instant, her smile dropping slowly, "Yes. She is magnifique. Where is she now, by the
way."

"Don't know," I said slowly while checking her face, trying to make sense of her sudden change of tone, "She was
going to spend the rest of the ball with our other friends, I think."

She only hummed in response, still trying to steer our fumbling around.

"I have the impression you don't particularly like her."

"Why wouldn't I? She is a beautiful girl and dances like a gazelle. She seems like the perfect company. Besides, I do
not really know 'er, do I?"

"I suppose. You made a good impression on her though."

"Oh?"

I shrugged, "She said as much," In the tense silence that followed I decided that it would be better to change the
theme, "I heard that you don't enjoy the decorations."

"They are nice, I'm just... missing 'ome?"

"Homesick," I prompted.

"Oui," she said as she rested her temple against mine, "I miss the palace, it's always beautiful in winter. And this
would 'ave been the first time I 'ave Gabby with me in Beauxbatons."

"Your little sister, right?" She nodded, "You spend the holidays in Beauxbatons?"
"Non. I always go back 'ome but the decorations stay from November all the way to February. I always wanted to
share them with 'er and this is 'er first year, I know she would love the ice statues enchantées."

"As long as she is not like you and tries to eat them."

"You are awful," she said with a laugh.

"There is always next year, right?"

"'Arry?"

"Yes?"

"I'm in my last year."

"Oh. I... forgot," what an idiot.

"It's okay. I forget it too, sometimes. It's a shame this competition fell on this year in particular, I always thought I
would be with 'er on 'er first year. It can be difficult to... adapt."

"Tell me about it," I chucked, "I didn't even know magic existed until I got my Hogwarts letter."

"Really!"

"Until almost a month after I got the first letter, actually."

"'ow is that possible?" she breathed, "I can't imagine 'Arry Potter not knowing about magic. Everyone in our world
knows about you, 'ow could you not know about us?."

"I live with my aunt and her husband and lets say they don't like magic, to put it blandly. They are muggles, my
mother was the magical one. Do you want to drink something? I'm kinda getting tired of all this stumbling around."

She laughed at that and stepped away, "Oui, lets go."

"So," I began as we walked towards the drinks table, "We were having breakfast when we got my first Hogwarts
letter, I-" I stumbled a bit at the memory, there were details of the story that I had no intention to share. Not now at
least, "I had gotten the mail that day. We muggles get all the letters delivered together at the door based on the
house's address, you see, so I had other letters that were for my aunt and uncle. As soon as they saw that I had
gotten something they got suspicious since i didn't normally got anything on the mail, and they took it before I could
read it," I grinned then, "My uncle almost had an apoplexy when he read it."

"But I don't get it," Fleur said as she examined the drinks on the table, "Your aunt must 'ave known 'er sister was a
witch, and that 'er 'usband was magical too. Surely it was not a surprise that you 'ad magic too. And what about the...
douleurs de croissance."

"You do know that I don't speak French, don't you?" I said slowly.

"You know, when children cast without knowing. I refuse to believe someone like you never did that."

"Oh, accidental magic? Well yes, I had my fair share of problems because of it. When I got the letter I finally
understood why they always blamed me for the strange things that happened around me."

"So she knew you 'ad magic. She could 'ave told 'er 'usband without getting in trouble with the law, why did she not?"

"I am pretty sure she did," she looked at me with her brow furrowed in clear confusion as she passed me a cup filled
with a dark red liquid.

"But then why was 'e surprised? And why did they not tell you what you were?"

I looked at the cup and sighed deeply, swirling the liquid around and watching the lights reflect on the inky surface, "I
suppose they hoped the letter would not arrive and they could continue to live as normal. Like I said they didn't like
magic, not one bit."

"It's a good thing that the letters are written by a charm on birth," she took a sip of her own cup.
"And that they send so many," I smiled and tasted the drink she had given me. It was fruity but at the same time tart
and it made my mouth a bit dry, weirdly, "What's this."

"What passes for red wine in this country," she waved away the question, "What do you mean 'so many'? There is
only one letter."

"Maybe is different in France," I shrugged, "I must have gotten well over 200 letters delivered to all the different
places my uncle tried to hide into until Hagrid personally found me and handed me one."

She just stood there mouth gaping in search of words until she huffed and chugged her drink in one gulp before
refilling it and taking a more measured sip.

"There is zo, so much wrong in that sentence that I don't even know where to start."

"You do look a bit overwhelmed," her cheeks and nose had tinted a pretty rosy colour too. Her neck too... and-

"'Arry, first of all its not different in France, it's an international law. Every magical born must be notified of 'is 'eritage
and 'is options for schooling prior to getting to the age in which said schooling would begin."

"Even Pure-bloods? It feels a bit redundant, that."

"Yes. Everyone, even pure-bloods," she made a face at the word, "Second, they only send one letter. In France you
are free to contact the school of your choosing, and if your family 'as been in the same school for several generations,
like mine, that school tends to sent you an invitation. If you don't answer its thought to be a refusal. Maybe that part is
different 'ere," she conceded, "but... two 'undred letters seems excessive. And there is the fact that your family ran
and 'id so that you would not get the letters, is that right?"

I merely nodded and took another sip of the wine,

"c'est irréel!" She exclaimed and lifted her arms with such force that her wine spilled and the people close to us turned
to glare at her for the jump-scare, "'ow could tzhey try to 'ide something zo important!"

"Hey calm down," I put a hand to her shoulder, "It was long ago, and I'm here, am I not? So in the end it worked out
well. Besides," I smirked, "My pig of a cousin became more of a literal pig that day thanks to Hagrid, so it was well
worth it."

She laughed at that, "Who is this 'agrid?"

"The beau of your Headmistress," I bumped her shoulder and she laughed again.

"The big man? the gardien?"

"If that means groundskeeper, then yes."

"So that is 'ow you know 'im," she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah. We've been friends since. He gave me Hedwig as a birthday present."

"I would never 'ave guessed. 'e does not seem that caring of a person."

"What do you mean?"

"'e seems... rough."

"Nah, he is a gentle giant. His only problem is that he sometimes forgets that we are not all as... durable as him.
Never try and eat one of his cakes, tempted as you surely would be."

"I sense a story there," she tittered.

I shrugged and sipped a bit more of wine, surprising myself as the cup emptied with it. Even so, the colour was so
strong that the path of it on the glass was still clear.

"You know?" I said, while still examining the cup, "You could always sneak in."

"Pardon?" I turned to look at her, her face was tilted in curiosity, the lock of hair she had tucked away falling again in
a daring escape.

"To see your sister in Beauxbatons. You could sneak in next year, what can they do if they even find you? You would
no longer be a student."

"I could go to jail?" she said, not sounding too sure.

"For eating chocolate with your sister? Not likely."

Her gaze softened as her lips arched into a tender smile, "You know, Mon petit chou," she extender her hand and
caressed my cheek, making me have a mini heart attack, "I should stop calling you Chevalier, you are clearly a little
rascal."

I smiled widely thinking how proud Sirius would be of that, "How is it in French?"

Now it was her turn to smile like the moon, "Coquin. Petit coquin."

"Whokan?"

"Close enough," she mocked in the same way I had before.

Her placid expression turned to something close to panic, her eyes widening at something over my shoulder.
Naturally I turned sharply, expecting something far worse than just a smiling Roger Davies.

"So, my beautiful lady. What about a walk around the gardens?" he made a small bow to accompany his suave tone.

"We 'ad an accord, Davies."

His face soured at her response, "You are my date, Delacour. Now stop being difficult and let's go."

She looked at him incredulously for a moment, I reached for my wand just in case I had to shield her fast.

Or put out a fire, which was just as likely.

"You planned to convince me to stay with you," she said in a whisper, and shook her head, "That's the only reason
you accepted, did you not? You expected to change my mind."

"I didn't expect for you to actually dump me in front of everyone" I could hear his teeth grind as he said it.

"I am not 'dumping you.' I was very clear with you, if you thought it would be shameful for you, you could just 'ave said
no."

His hand moved, but I was quicker, and my wand was pointing to his chest before he manage to even reach his
pocket. To my surprise, Fleur's wand was just as quick as mine. We locked eyes for a fraction of a second and I
lowered mine.

"It would be better if you left, big boy. You are quite a bit smaller than a dragon."

He stood for a moment, a snarl in his face, until he brusquely turned and left, pushing everyone in his haste.

"Merde!" Fleur exclaimed an crossed her arms, "I was so stupid."

"Why you say that?" I pocketed my wand again, Davies was almost at the door to the Great Hall.

"I believed 'is act. I explicitly told 'im I was not interested in anything beyond opening the ball," she sighed, "I though 'e
was like Cedric because they are friends and 'e is as well regarded as Cedric is. Turns out 'e is just another entitled...
Prat!"

I barked a laugh and she gave me the evil eye, "Don't laugh at this, 'Arry, please. I'm upset," Her arms tightened
around herself.

"Hey, I'm sorry," I put an arm around her, trying to comfort her, "I just love when you use English insults. Its...
adorable."

She smiled and leaned into the half embrace, "Prat."

I laughed again.

"Besides, it's not your fault. Most of the time its hard to know what is on our own heads, how can you blame yourself
for not knowing what goes on in someone else's?"

She stayed silent for a while after that.

"Yes, you are right," she stood straight again and smiled at me, "Those talks with your 'eadmaster are working, I see."

"I suppose," I chuckled and ruffled my hair, "He does have a way with words."

"Harry!" I turned towards the sound and saw and out of breath Cedric walking towards us, Cho holding his hand.

"What a party, eh?" she said as she grabbed a glass of wine for her and one for her companion.

"It looks like you two are enjoying yourselves," said Fleur, and as I took in their disheveled appearance I had to agree.

"I haven't seen you two out there too much," he inclined his head towards the dance floor.

"Consider yourself lucky then," I said, making Fleur laugh.

"'Arry and I just discovered that we are really not good at dancing."

"That's a shame," said Cho, "the music has been really good so far, my feet are starting to hurt though so I needed a
break. I do have to say, I love your dress,"

"Thank you," Fleur smiled, "Its not often that I get to dress like this."

"So, Harry, now that the ladies are distracted," he whispered, "may I speak to you?"

"Yeah, sure."

He moved a bit away from Cho and Fleur, who threw a questioning glance in my direction. I shrugged and followed
him.

"You know," he said, "I don't think I've thanked you for letting me know about the dragons, like properly thank you."

"There is no need Ced, it was nothing," I waved him off

"Merlin's saggy left ball it was nothing. I'd be dead as door nail for sure had I not known about them. Look, mate, if all
the rumours I've heard are true, then I can say that you just don't understand what it's like for a normal bloke like me
to be in a situation like that."

"A normal bloke?" I frowned, what was that supposed to mean.

"Harry, this summer I was helping my father clean a small shed we have and we found an infestation of flesh eating
slugs. I was out running screaming like a child and shaking the goo of my clothes like they were on fire. Do you get
my point?"

I chuckled imagining the scene, "Still, I only gave you a day to prepare."

"Yes, but you had the same amount of time," he took a deep breath, "When I got out of the tent and saw that huge
thing just pacing around the eggs... I froze. I stood there like an idiot for like ten seconds just looking at it. Had I not
known beforehand... well," he pointed to his scared face, "You get the idea."

"I'm just glad we all made it out okay."

"So am I. I'm still surprised there were no more injuries, even this scars are not that bad, Madam Pomfrey says they'll
fade in a few months," He gestured with his hands, "But anyway, that is not what I wanted to talk about. How are you
doing with your golden egg?"

I grimaced involuntarily at the mere mention of the sodding egg.

"That bad, huh?"

"I about had it with the screeching after a couple days. I was waiting for after the Ball to actually try and figure it out,
but so far no clue."

"I cracked it already," he smiled, "by accident granted, but still."

"Well cheers for you mate."

"Oh, none of that, I plan on return your favour. See, the only thing you have to do is open it underwater."

"Are you serious?"

"Absolutely, just submerge it and open it. Well, you have to dunk your head too, otherwise you wont hear anything but
that's basically it."

"How did you even figure that out? I mean, its pretty... out there."

He laughed and looked away, his hand going to his neck, "It's a bit embarrassing to be honest. I had been working on
it for hours and didn't manage to get anything beyond that mindless screaming, I got really mad at one point and
chucked as far away as I could. It landed on a pool, you see. When I dove to retrieve it the screaming didn't sound so
mindless any more. Hell, it did not sounded like screaming at all."

"Where did you even find a pool? I've never seen one in the castle."

"Why, in the prefect's baths, of course," he looked towards where Fleur and Cho were chatting and then turned
towards me with an evil smile, "You know, since I have no doubt you'll go on and tell Fleur all of this, I'll give you the
password to the baths too. So you can tell her right proper, give her a demonstration," is he really waggling his
eyebrows?

"Oh come on, not you too," I pinched the bridge of my nose while he let out a guffaw.

"Everyone can't be wrong at the same time, Harry. In any case, poke the door with your wand *heh* and say
'Pinefresh,' you'll hear the click of the lock."

"Alright, I'll be sure to remember. Thank you, Cedric, I did not meant you to owe me anything by telling you about the
task."

"Nonsense," he waved, "it's only fair. Now if you'll excuse me, I intend to make the most of this ball," in a couple of
steps he reached Cho and pulled her into away from her conversation with Fleur directly into a spin and a dance; to
her delight if her giggles were to be believed.

I chuckled at Fleur's surprised look, "You should see your face."

She turned towards me, "Sorry, that was pretty abrupt. Charmant, though."

She looked at our fellow champions dance and laugh. I took another glass of wine and sipped it as I took her in.
Fleur's chiselled features made her an intimidating creature, beautiful beyond compare but also sharp and cold. I am
always surprised at how that changes with the simplest of smiles, a change that I could watch entranced any amount
of time.

I shook my head, trying to clear it from shining gold and high cheekbones, "Do you want to dance some more, Fleur?"

She turned towards me, her soft smile morphing into something more mischievous, "You only want an excuse to 'old
me again, 'Arry," her amusement was clear on her voice.

I felt the blush rise an turned towards wee Cedric and Cho were in an effort to conceal it. I don't even know why I
offered when we are both clearly pants at dancing.

Her hand stretched towards me, "Come on then."

I raised an eyebrow at her, "I thought..."

"Well, I need an excuse to let you, no?" rosy cheeks adorned her lively countenance. Her eyes looked so hauntingly
blue by contrast.

I took her hand and broke into a smile, walking towards a less cluttered part of the hall were we could stumble around
inanely to our hearts content.

Maybe it was the wine, but right know I did not care how stupid we may look stumbling around in circles no longer
trying even to imitate the proper steps. I just knew that I was having more fun that I could remember, not worrying
about a single thing but for the smile of my... friend.

The songs were faster now. Had been for a while already, and the sheer energy of the moment had figuratively taken
my breath away more than once, and as much as I didn't want it I needed a breather.

Fleur understood as I pulled her towards a table and followed me. I think that the chocolates arranged in the middle of
said table had something to do with her willingness, and had she not been already flushed from the physical exertion
she would have blushed when I noticed that. It make me smile that nothing softened her as that little secret of hers.

We did not talk for a while, the music was to loud now for it to be a comfortable experience anyway, but it did not
bother me. it was strange, in a good way, to be able to share one of our comfortable silences among all this ruckus.

The scrape of a chair drew my attention as Hermione fell with a huff in it, as flushed and breathless as Fleur and I had
been before.

"Hello there," she to me with a smile, "Fleur, evening."

"Ça va, 'ermione?"

"Really good," She laughed, "I honestly did not expect to have such a good time. I am so tired though, I've done little
more than dance. Not that I'm complaining mind you, I love dancing, but I'm not nearly as fit as Victor."

She was babbling, as she tends to do when she is embarrassed. The last part of her tirade made me snicker though.

"So, Victor is fit then?"

She flushed even more, "Oh, you know what I meant you git."

Fleur giggled and repeated 'git' under her breath.

"In any case, where is 'Viktor?'"

"He went for some drinks. I told him I would be here."

"Speaking of him. Do you know why he glared at me like that? You know, before. When we where waiting to enter the
hall."

"I don't know. I found it strange too, but he has not said anything to me."

"Maybe he is jealous of you, 'arry."

"What?"

"Well, you are quite close to 'ermione 'ere."

I laughed, "Then be careful, Fleur. You too tried to steal her away from him too."

At this point Hermione's complexion may have already changed permanently and she covered her face with a hand.
She was smiling though.

"Well, mon voyeur, I think I see Viktor coming. Maybe we should..."

"Make ourselves scarce?"

"Oui."

"Agreed," I said as I got up and offered my hand to her. She took it -along some pieces of confectionery- and with a
wave to my old friend, we went.

I let myself be guided now, not really having any preference towards were to go. Fleur offered one of her 'bonbons' as
she called them and we kept walking towards the entrance of the hall, munching on filled chocolates.

"Where are we going?"

"Outside. Do you mind? I would like to 'ave some fresh air."

I smiled, "Not at all."

There was some people in the entrance hall talking in small groups, taking advantage of the relative quiet outside off
the Great Hall. A lot of eyes followed us as we got towards the castle's gates but I had long learned to ignore the
discomfort that came with such attention, something I had in common with the woman walking beside me. And so,
with a look towards her face, eyes smiling, we walked through the doors and into the chilly air.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

First of all, I would like to thank every single one of you that is still keeping up with this story. I know what it is to wait
for a new chapter of a story that you enjoy, after all i've been a reader in this site for many years and only recently
made the jump into writing. I know have a new appreciation of writers and can say without a doubt that I wont get
bitchy wen an author say 'life got in the way,' cause MAN, can the life get in the way.

I wont get into details, cause that is not why you are all here for, but in this past months I have been through enough
that in all honesty I could not focus on anything.

It's gotten better, thank Olympus for that. I have my own place and I have enough peace to be able to get into the
mindset to continue this story.

I had been writing and rewriting bits and pieces of this chapter for long enough now, and even if I'm not entirely happy
with how it turned out I decide to post it. To give that first step again and try and get the ball rolling again. I feel like
I'm cutting the chapter short but you have waited long enough and I have doubted long enough too. So there you
have it.

On the following days I am going to edit all the previous chapters to get a consistent format across all of them and get
rid of most of the mistakes because if I, the writer, had to reread the whole thing several times to remember what the
hells was happening on the story, then I can imagine a fair number of you are probably going to choose to do so too.

I have several loose scenes written for the period between the ball and the second task, the second task itself and the
third task. None of them are complete, some of them are in scraps of paper, some of them are digital. What this
means is that i do have something with which to work but, well, i have to work to finish it, no it's going to take a while.
the only thing i can promise is that it wont be another six months.

That said, i am not abandoning this story. Not on my life. I love this story, it's the first thing i've ever written and i
never expect it to be as well received as it has been. These characters have gotten a lie of themselves and are
always walking around on my head growing and changing, i just couldn't abandon them.

Also, I noticed that the last review i had was in french. So, French readers, I hope i'm not butchering your beautiful
language too much.

I hope that you enjoy this chapter a lot more than I did.

Khaire, dear readers.

*Chapter 14*: Of Questions and Answersand Questions
Chapter 14

Of Questions and Answers... and Questions

As Fleur and I stepped out of the castle one thing struck me immediately.

How different the grounds looked.

Calling them 'grounds' felt somewhat dismissive, even.

Gardens. Gardens seemed like a far more appropriate word.

The delicate way in which the scores of rose bushes were arranged through the newly minted garden, creating a
narrow path dimly illuminated with warm lighted road lamps peppered with sculpted benches, told me Hagrid clearly
had help in this. As much as I love the man, I know he would not think of something so well organized. A practical
man, he is.

"Pretty, is it not?" said Fleur before turning her gaze towards the Carriage, "I am not sure about the maze though."

I looked at her prettily furrowed brow and followed her, and true enough, a maze of carefully trimmed, shoulder height
bushes had been erected, leaving the Beauxbatons carriage at the center and apparently surrounding it in a circular
manner.

I couldn't help but cackle as I imagined a miffed Fleur trying to navigate the maze while letting out English expletives,
"It's a wonder you weren't late to the ball. Well, not more than usual any way."

She smirked and slapped my shoulder, "Ah, 'ush. It's called being élégamment late," she said striking a posh pose
which made us both chuckle, "In truth, it is not a difficult thing to maneuver. It just makes you walk around and around
instead of walking straight to the castle. Took me ten minutes to get out of the odieux thing."

"It is pretty enough, though," I said, playing on her weakness for bonny things.

"Oui, that I will not deny. At least they used a nice climate charm, so it was not a chilly walk. It's remarkable 'ow they
manage to enchant such a big, open space. And with such an aggressive environment."

"You are right! Can't believe I did not notice straight away," Fleur stood, her hand waving patterns in the air and her
gaze focused.

With a slight start she shook off the trance and gave me a small smile, "You should work on your… touch, for charms
and enchantments, mon petit," she sighed, "If the gardens are beautiful, the magic weaved for it is even more so."

"There is enough beauty here for me, as it is."

I do not know what compelled me to say such a thing, and I felt the urge to shut up even as the words left my mouth.

For a second, panic filled me. But then a rosy cheeked smile and a quick sidelong glance of her bright eyes
smothered the feeling. At least that particular one.

With nary a word she started on the path, not looking like she was heading anywhere in particular. Then again, I
didn't know where I was going, or even where I wanted to go.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Harry. You may even believe it.

For a while our only company was the sound of her dress as it dragged on the floor and the comforting sizzle of the
lamps. Alas, peace is seldom long lived.

The scenery had appealed to more people than we had thought when we sought to get away from the crowd, and just
a short walk from the entrance the gardens held scattered groups of students that had found solace in the various
secluded benches and rose bushes.
Well, not groups really. Couples. Without a shadow of a doubt in most cases.

I chanced a quick glance at Fleur and started to sweat a little, for my mind decided that it was a good time to replay
Katie's words of encouragement.

The comfortable feeling that always came when I was with Fleur unsettled in that moment into something less
pleasant, as it tends to happen when sudden expectations surge from the actions of others.

A girl giggled as her 'friend' held her and nuzzled her neck, the sound and the proximity to my own friend making me
blush spectacularly.

"Ahem, why don't we go to the lake? There's bound to be less people there," I said, deliberately trying to not look at
any of the other students.

"Oui!" She grabbed my arm and started hurriedly towards the lake, getting off of the illuminated path to more directly
approach our destination.

She did look back a couple times, a peculiar expression on her face.

I would say that, next to the astronomy tower, the lake was one of my favourite places to go when I wanted to be
alone for a while. It was far enough that most people didn't care much for the walk that it took to get to it. At least as
long as the sun didn't shake off its lethargy in one of the rare warm days that we get during the term.

It was beautiful too. I tugged at the delicate, and surprisingly strong, hand that I held within mine and headed to the
part of the lake that I liked the most, a small spot behind a large boulder close to the shore and shielded from the
wind and the curious looks by some daring pine trees that pioneered outside of the limits of the forbidden forest.

The night was cold outside of the enchanted garden, the normally soft summer grass giving way to its winter brethren
in the span of a few meters, the crunch under our feet releasing the acrid scent of cut grass, sharp in contrast to the
sterile smell of winter. The lights of the path reflected in a blurry, fiery line on the surface of the lake, fencing the pale
face of the moon.

The tinkling melody of Fleur's laughter drew my attention away from the lake, and I was surprised that her gaze was
on me and not on the enchanting view.

"What is it?"

She shook her head a small still playing on her lips, "You 'ave a good eye for relaxing spots."

"I do like my quiet," I guided her towards the boulder I normally used as a bench when I came here and we both sat,
looking at the shimmering darkness of the lake, "As Hermione would say, this is where I come to sulk."

"I thought you didn't sulk," she said in a teasing tone.

"I don't," I raised my chin, "Hermione is of the opinion that I do, however."

"Well, she is a brilliant girl," she nodded sagely and I bumped her shoulder in playful protest.

With a gesture she produced a bunched up napkin and put it on the ground between us, opening it to reveal an
assortment of small chocolates liberated from the table where we left Hermione.

She gestured in invitation and I took one while she rummaged between the folds of her bunched skirts for something,
her lip bitten in concentration.

"Ah! Et voila!" she held up a bottle of wine with a triumphant air. A full-sized bottle of wine.

"Is that- Never mind, where did you even hid that?"

"I 'ave pockets," She said putting the bottle on the floor and procuring a couple of glasses from the same arcane
stash.

"That's a whole bottle, Fleur. And a pair of glasses."

"They are big pockets," she said simply, her eyes closing and her brows lifting in an imperious gesture. With a touch
of her wand the cork popped out and stayed floating in the air a few inches above the bottle.

I took the proffered glass and sipped.

"You know, Fleur? I never would have thought that you were such a terrible dancer."

"You sure know 'ow to compliment a lady," she said in a sardonic manner, one eyebrow rising to accentuate the
sentiment as her deft fingers popped a bonbon in her mouth.

Of course, my mind caught up with my mouth at her subliminal reproach and I ruffled my hair in embarrassment,
"Och, I didn't mean it like that. I am terrible too. But you are always so… graceful, so effortless. It's strange to see you
struggle."

Her eyes crinkled and her lips pursed in a tight lipped smile owing to the chocolate she was eating. She put her hand
daintily in front of her lips before swallowing.

"I suppose I never 'ad a reason to get good at it. I'd go to at least a ball a year with my parents, but I mostly get
mobbed by the younger attendants. Sometimes not so young ones either, so I did not see the appeal of it," she
shuddered in reminiscence and promptly grabbed another chocolate. It made me smile as I remembered Lupin's
remedy to dementor induced bad memories.

"That bad?"

" 'Ave you been enjoying the ball, my Lady?" she said, effecting a tone that pretended to be that of a young man, "
'Ow do you like to spend your days? With art, Surely? A lovely Dame such as yourself could do nothing else," her
noise of disgust unveiling a difference of opinion with her erstwhile admirer.

"To be fair, you are partial to loveliness yourself. Is that not why you got interested in enchantments in the first
place?."

"Oui, but the fact that 'e would not even wait for me to answer before 'e keep talking was affronting. And there were
so many! I remember a particular one that pushed past the one that was talking at the moment to ask me to
accompany 'im to another room, for 'e 'ad "something 'e wished to show me" while at the same time another offered
me some jewelry that looked 'just like my eyes'. The leer may not have been present on 'is face, but it was so thick in
'is voice that I may as well 'ave seen it anyway."

I snorted as a show of sympathy, "I'm sure you made a lot of them dance." She looked at me disbelievingly, "I know I
had to dance to your fiery tune," I smirked remembering the night I had irrupted in her room.

She laughed then, understanding, "Non, that's the worst of it. They were so polite! Sure they were 'ogging and leering
an had such eagerness that made the whole politeness irrelevant, but despite 'ow disagreeable I found them I 'ad no
excuse to be anything but polite in return."

Her disappointed pout was adorable in the extreme.

"Please, like you wouldn't hit back with that silver tongue."

Her smile was wide and proud, "Oh, oui. Not that it 'elped a lot, but it was alleviating. I must 'ave lost my touch,
though." I tilted my head in inquiry and she obliged, "Well, I did follow you 'ere during a ball in the middle of the night
for you to show me this 'magnificent sight.' What would poor young Monsieur Beaufort say? 'E would be 'eartbroken."

I fixed my eyes on the lake, my heart vigorously expressing his excitement at the underlining allusion of her playful
remark. Her sweet giggles not helping my disposition either.

"It was not that hard, actually. I just had to lure you with chocolates," I glanced at her out the corner of my eye just in
time to dodge one off the aforementioned sweets.

"Luckily for me, you are the only one that knows my weakness."

Our merriment tittered on the chilly air as we looked at each other. I always tried not to stare at her too much, for I
knew it was something that bothered her and beyond that I was afraid that if I looked at her too much I would not be
able advert my eyes again.
I cast the worry aside for the moment and delighted in the numinous exhibit of soft curls perched in a lovely
arrangement on top of her head, gold and silver shining and dancing in the light of the moon. The same light giving an
ethereal gleam to her fair skin turning it even fairer, making the few, tiny freckles that adorned the sharp and straight
bridge of her nose look like golden droplets of dew on a marble statue. The fine bones of her high and prominent
cheekbones holding up bejeweled eyes of a singular colour that seemed to swim and shift as they moved over me as
mine did over her.

Her lavish neck flowing into the curve or her graceful shoulders until it met the deep blue of her dress, the colour of it
blending with the black and blues of the night and creating the illusion that Fleur was an apparition. The generous
expanse of ivory dammed by the converging lines of embroidery turned rosy under my gaze. I lifted my eyes to hers,
afraid of what I might find but nevertheless eager in my admiration.

It surprised me to find her face so close as it was, for I couldn't for the life of me remember moving towards her, nor
did I saw her move. The ruddiness of her breast was now reflected on the mountain range of her nose and
cheekbones, and without a doubt on my own face too. Her eyes hooded just as mine flicked down in shyness,
overcome the intimacy of our mutual admiration.

My eyes, downcast towards the chocolate stained kerchief, proved braver than myself and grabbed hold of the vision
of the lite hand that had her propped up, and because of that I did saw her move this time. Slowly the hand stepped
until it was a hair's breadth away from mine to be followed by the rest of her, the advance of her legs obscured by the
bunched fabric of both our garments. The warmth of her would not be hidden, though.

Now close enough to touch I lifted my eyes slowly catching a reassuringly timid smile. At the soft brush of her hand
on mine I returned the smile as best I could, feeling it waver under the drumming of my heart.

I'll be the first to admit to being thickheaded in regards to some things, but even I could not miss the depth bared by
her expression. I cannot say that I knew what it all meant, nor could I assume that what I saw now written on her face
signified the same feeling that coursed through me. But then again, I was wary to put a name to that very feeling.

One thing I was absolutely sure about. I cared for her. I cared for Fleur Delacour with such ardor, with such intensity,
that I did not know what to do with it.

And looking at her, such tenderness in her gaze that It would have melted my legs from under me had I not been
sitting already, I knew she cared for me too.

The night was quiet, as winter nights tended to be in the Scottish Highlands, with only the constant and soothing
sound of the wind as it blew around us.

"Will… will you come with me? To-" she stammered, as if she'd thought better of what she was going to say.

"When you visit your sister?"

She shook her head vehemently, "l'oublier, I should not 'ave-"

"I will."

She seemed surprised at the promptness of my answer, and I could hardly blame her. Not when I noticed the words
where mine well after they had left me.

"Non, it's dangerous and irresponsible, and-"

"Quite in line with my character then," I could see her hold back a smile.

"You would risk jail on my behalf, then."

"I know you'd break me out. I don't think you'd need my help though."

"Maybe not. But I would like to show you Le Palais, the places I enjoy an the ones I don't, Like you've shown me
'ogwarts."

"You just want to brag about your Ice statues and flower gardens, huh?

She looked at me with eyes wide and unguarded, "Beauxbatons is as much a part of me as 'ogwarts is a part of you,
Chérie."
"Oh."

Such a simple statement. I did not answer, the depth of understand in such a situation needs not speech -luckily for
me- but as my hand came to rest on top of hers I knew we understood each other.

For the moment nothing else mattered.

I had been standing in front of this door for the past fifteen minutes trying to remember the password that Cedric had
told me the night before, but try as I might most of what I could remember from the ball had to do with another
champion altogether.

"Crisp air?" I jabbed the door lightly with my wand. The door remained immutable as a- as a- well, as a door.

"Damn."

I had not planned to come here today, to be honest. I had wanted to see Fleur again, the fact that we parted only a
few hours ago notwithstanding, but she was nowhere to be found. Our unexpected encounter with her headmistress
on the door to the carriage may have something to do with that, now that I think about it.

We had spent hours at the lake, talking, drinking, stealing glances at each other and enjoying the peaceful silence
that can only be achieved with those you trust implicitly. But even my smitten self needed sleep, specially after our
energetic flailing at the ball and the exhaustion of introspection, and so I had accompanied her to the carriage,
twisting and turning and laughing in the maze that surrounded it.

In a typical burst of the luck that is so characteristic to myself, we got to the door at about the same time Madame
Maxime appeared to materialize herself from around the huge carriage. Impressive for a woman of her size. She
appeared to not be overly impressed by our faces flushed with laughter and cheery demeanour. Not that such attitude
endured overly long under her scrutinizing gaze. A gaze that flicked to our clasped hands and turned accusing.

"Je pensais avoir été clair. Tu ne devais pas venir avec lui au bal."

In light of the general expression of the, likely twelve feet tall, woman and the tone in which she spoke, I felt inclined
to drop Fleur's hand and back away slowly. Fleur was having none of it though, and her gentle grip on my hand
became suddenly unbelievably strong as she pulled me back to her side.

"I thought what you said was that there was a rule against two champions going together." Fleur said looking up and
straight into the eyes of her headmistress. Maxime didn't look happy to begin with, but Fleur's use of English didn't
seem to help matters any, if the resulting scowl meant anything.

"Ce ne sont pas mes paroles, et je vous parlerai de cette…" She glance between us both, Fleur scowling herself now
at her use of french, "...question, das matin sur mon bureau. Je vous suggère de vous retirer pour la nuit."

With that last string of french she turned and gracefully ducked into the carriage, leaving an open mouthed Fleur to
stare after her.

"Le culot d'elle!" her dainty foot stamped the floor with all the strength she could manage, her teeth grinding in open
affront.

"Well, it is quite big," I said, a bit unsure, "not sure why we are speaking about your Headmistress… bottom, though.
Care to enlighten me?"

Her eyes widened, her outrage melting into startlement at my comment and then into guffaws in the span of a
second.

"I said gall, or nerve maybe. Not buttocks."

"But I thought Culot meant-"

"That would be cul, ma coquin. I guess you could use in the same way, but is not really 'ow it is used commonly."

"French doesn't make any sense."

She shrugged, "It is a complicated language."

"What was that about then," I said trying to get the conversation back on track, "With Maxime, I mean."

Her face flushed in anger quickly at the remainder, her eyes narrowing into sharp, blue triangles.

"She was not 'appy to see us together."

"That much I gathered," I tried not to pay too much attention at the word 'together.'

"She lied. She said It was not allowed for a champion to escort another champion, when she meant I was not allowed
to come with you. And she intends to scold me! And order me to my room, as if I am a child!"

"Why would she do that?"

She frowned and stayed quiet for a while.

"I don't really know. She 'as said before that our friendship is a distraction, and she 'as made it clear she doesn't think
'ighly of you. Maybe she thinks that you are a cheater. I never thought she would act like this towards me," her anger
fluctuated again turning into a conflicted expression that I could not quite read, "I 'ad always been able to trust 'er."

She shook her head, as if trying to rid herself of the thoughts that were clearly running through it, and smiled weakly
at me, "As much as I would love to stay elsewhere just to spite 'er, I think I really need my room right now."

"Aye, tell me about it. I'm knackered."

"Naquerd?" the corners of her lips twitched at the sound of the unfamiliar word.

"Exhausted, I mean," my own lips twitched at her attempt on the word.

She stared at me for some infinite seconds, her eyes roaming over my face. Her hand reached up, fingers running
through my hair and It was all I could do not to close my eyes entirely at the feeling.

"Good night, then, mon cher coquin."

With a last smile she walked on backwards the few steps to the door.

"Good night," I whispered as she reach it, "My French Rose."

Her tender smile didn't change so I could not tell if she had hear me before getting inside, leaving me alone with the
rustling of the pine-

"Pines!" I exclaimed triumphantly as I woke from my remembrance, "It was something to do with pines, I'm sure of it.
Pine Air."

The door reacted at my latest try by giggling.

"Damn."

I jumped as I heard steps around. A quick look at the marauders map showed the closest person was on the next
floor up. The castle sure was echoey as all hells.

It took me a few tries before I hit the magic words and the door opened with a slight sound that felt like victory after
having been trying so long. And not a minute too soon I managed it, my arm was getting tired of the awkward hold I
had on the sodding golden egg. I would have said it was solid judging by the weight, had I not known otherwise.

My first impressions of the Prefect's Baths was that it look kind of like a rounded version of a roman bath illustration I
remembered seeing in a primary school book.

A huge round pool occupied most of the space of the equally circular room, tall marble pillars rising all around its
perimeter towards what looked like an opening to the skies on the roof, but was likely an enchantment akin to that of
the Great Hall. The floor was tiled in white, the crevices between each tile filled with a golden substance that
shimmered in tandem with the characteristic scintillating of the light of the torches as it reflected on the water.

It was a beautiful room, and no doubt. Was it worth it the effort of actually becoming a prefect? Doubtful. Fortunately I
was not one to be following every rule, and as long as was reasonably careful and kept the Marauders Map on me I
could use it at my pleasure.

I walked towards the pool as it stood directly in front of the door. Here, and at the place completely opposite, the
pillars were farther apart from each other creating what was obviously intended to be the main places to enter it.
Indeed, as I got closer I could see steps leading into it from both places.

After checking the Map again, just to be sure, I stripped to my briefs and walked into the pool, egg in hand. The water
was clear and neither cool nor warm, and I would wager that said conditions could be changed to fit my fancy by
means of the tangled array of faucets that surged from the depths on the centre of the pool with a comical
resemblance to a -very much lost- Kraken.

Deciding not to lose time trying to decipher which coppery tentacle did what, I wadded in until I was elbows deep and
dunked the egg unceremoniously enjoying the thunk it did as it got to the bottom. Reaching down I unclasped the
latch on top and the egg opened in its usual sudden fashion, letting out a flash off light as it had done on every other
occasion, the novelty was that it was absolutely silent. I still had flinched preventively, nevertheless.

It was curious, the sound was not merely muffled by the water, it was nonexistent. One thing I did notice, in light of my
surroundings. The light that came from the gods forsaken piece of glorified, oversized, jeweled paperweight looked
exactly like the reflection off the water on the walls, and it was mere idiocy that I had not made the association with
water before.

Remembering what Cedric had said I submerged my head and rapidly pulled out coughing after I swallowed a
mouthful of water in my surprise. It was a song! I submerged myself again, this time forewarned, and listened. The
beautiful chorus of harmonic voices was day and night to the usual screeching I had come to expect, however the
message appeared to have been well underway since I had opened it so I rose for breath and in the subsequent dive
closed the egg and opened it again.

Come seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing above the ground,

And while you're searching, ponder this:

We've taken what you'll sorely miss,

An hour long you'll have to look,

And to recover what we took.

But past an hour - the prospect's black

Too late, it's gone, it won't come back.

Cursing my lack of thought at not bringing a quill and parchment I spent a while alternatively diving to hear and
floating around mouthing the words to myself until I was sure I remembered them well. Not that the meaning was all
that abstract, but maybe a word or another would make a difference when trying to find a solution, for that was what
this was. A problem. The song merely presented me with crude -if prettily worded- instructions on what the Second
Task was going to be, giving me time to find a way to confront it.

As I said, the basic meaning was not all that obscure. Something of importance to me would be taken, and likely
hidden or guarded by the authors of the song, the task will have a time limit after which recovery of the stolen thing
would be impossible, and the whole objective of The Task would be to recover the stolen property.

It was no feat of deduction to infer that the symphonic burglars would live underwater, where heir voices actually
sounded like voices and not like banshees realizing they left the oven on. As to the identity of said burglars, well, the
pretty blonde waving from atop her rock and giggling mutely at me from the perch of her frame that overlooked the
pool was a good enough clue.

"I don't suppose you would be so kind as to tell me what your people like in the way of stolen trinkets, would you?" I
said to the artfully painted mermaid, her only answer was to blush prettily at the attention, her strong silvery tail
raising in lieu of a fan to cover her face like a Victorian courtesan, golden eyes peering over the rim of it.

I sighed. Nothing in particular came to mind, as I had few possessions, and even fewer that I valued overmuch. There
was my wand, my father's cloak, the Marauder's map… you could have counted my Firebolt too, but the tournament
had already taken that from me. The wand was not going to be taken, I thought, after all, I could hardly be expected
to compete in a magical competition with no magic at my disposal. Few people knew about the map and the cloak,
and I almost always carried them with me in any case, so short of taking them from me by force I didn't see that they
could be used for ransom.

The thought of ransom brought Hedwig to mind, after all I did own her. Not that I was normally inclined to think of her
as a mere object, and proud as the owl was, she would take issue at such and idea. She was my friend, as much as
Ron and Hermione were.

I straightened then with such a suddenness from where I had been floating lazily that I inhaled a good bit of water.

No. No they wouldn't, I thought. The tournament organizers may be crazy enough to bring dragons casually to a 'test
of mettle,' but all the champions were willing participants. Well, I reflected ruefully, if not willing certainly contractually
obligated to participate. Outright snatching people just because they knew one of the champions was bound to get
them in trouble, if nothing else.

Nevermind that, for now. Be it my favourite quill or the Queen of England, it would not change the fact that I would
have to recover something held by mermaids, or by some other underwater creature intelligent enough to compose a
poem, and that I would have one hour to do so.

Where from, I thought was a better question. Why from underwater, of course, which would necessarily mean the
Task would take me to the Black Lake unless it took place outside of Hogwarts, in which case it would not matter if I
knew the place or not as they would likely transport us to there.

That left the issue I had been unwittingly postponing to think about. How in all the nine hells was I supposed to be
able to dive into the lake for at least an hour? And even if I knew the answer to that, I could barely swim well enough
to handle this pool, so there was that too.

I huffed in exasperation and let myself float on my back, at least I had time.

Authors Note

See! I told you all it would not be another six months. Hah, bet no one believed that. I wan to start of this time by
saying a heartfelt thank you to everyone that read my last authors note, and know that I really appreciate the good
wishes. I am indeed well. life's gotten better and I dont have time to write is for a reason that is a lot more 'first world
problem.' For example I could have gotten this chapter a few days earlier, but I have started working again and been
engrossed reading a really big novel. the good news -for you- is that I do feel more creative when I'm currently
reading, and find myself putting the book down periodically each time my characters decide to take life and reenact a
scene on their own.

I have to warn you, I am writing in a PC now. As some of you knew I had been using my phone for this purpose
before, and the sudden change to a keyboard has me dropping letters or sometimes typing a letter twice or thrice,
likke ssso. I reread the chapter several times, but one or two typos may have eluded termination. If so, I apologize.

Most reviews praised the character interactions and commented on their wit and/or on the cuteness of Harry and
Fleurs budding relationship. On this I want to say that it is heartening to see that so many of you are enjoying my style
of writing, so many thanks for all of that kindness, it really fills me with confidence to keep at it.

Now, on some off the more specific reviews,

masterdude94: No, my dude. That was not a mount & blade reference, it was merely a but of the aggressiveness
that contact athletes channel into healthy competitiveness most of the time. can't say I've ever had the pleasure of
playing that particular game. If its headcannon for you, take it and run with it. After all, Katie -at least my Katie Bell- is
a half-blood, so it's not impossible that her father introduced her to PC games apart from dancing.

Hooplash: Oh, Katie was all bluff, for sure. In fact, she is mostly into girls. I had planned for her to make some ribald
jokes to harry about Fleur in such effect but I did not manage it without it looking queer -if your pardon the pun. The
words that i managed seemed too cliche, so i drop it. From this chapter at least.

Canuto-90: Es bueno verte por aca despues de tanto, mi querido canuto. Con tu nombre de usuario no me
sorprende que estes echando de menos a Sirius jajaja, pero no te preocupes, aparecera antes del segundo evento.
Acerca de Rita, en canon ella solia escribir articulos criticos y amarillistas de todo quien la disgustara o hiciera buen
titular, Dumbledore incluido. Ciertamento no haria algo como escribir un libro enero en el que *ahem* aireara el
closet de el viejo Albus, pero llamarlo nombres en una columna de un diario no esta mas alla de ella. En cuanto a
que pasara cuando termine el torneo, lo tengo planeado a medias, pero no te preocupes por ello, como puedes leer
en este capitulo Harry y fleur no se apartaran del otro con mucha ffacilidad.

Ilikehotdogs: hey there mate, always nice to see recurring readers coming back to the story. I remember your
username from one of my first reviews. I have indeed thought of getting the story betaed since, as good as my
English might be, i'm bound to have weird phrasing sometimes by the simple fact of it not being my mother tongue if
anything else (I have weird phrasing in Spanish too, some times owing to me thinking in a weird patois) but my way of
writing is to whimsical, i think, to try and take someone else's time too. I'll simply have to do my best.

George 1892: Boy, was I close to getting locked in with those bastards. It turned out allright in the end, thank Athena
and Hestia for that. And no, a 14 year old would not -only- be oblivious to a hot, foreign, older girl. He would be very
intimidated. and you have to see it from her point of view as well, in couples with age gaps someone always feels
judged or pressured from the onlookers until they manage to make peace with themselves.

Khaire! Dear readers, my embodiment of the muses, for is your responses that inspire me. Until the next chapter
*Chapter 15*: Prometheus Is Not The Only One With Bad
Chapter 15

Prometheus Is Not The Only One With Bad Ideas

After my very productive bath I had gone to the Great Hall in hopes of finding Fleur there, not having had any luck in
such endeavour on any of our usual spots early in the day. She was there, and catching her eye I smiled genuinely if
a bit unsurely. I reckon it looked similar to the shy smile I got in return. Her gaze flicked towards the head table, where
Madame Maxime was looking at me with cold displeasure. Fleur's shoulders rose a minute amount in a clear gesture
of apology, and mine did so in answer. What can you do? I tried to convey.

Almost as easy as finding Fleur's form amongst the teeming masses that populated the hall, ravenous for supper and
gossip, was finding my two oldest friends. After all, looking like a rowan tree in autumn and a flagpole hoisting the
colors of Wales respectively, Hermione and Ron were not very inconspicuous in the best of days. Flanked by the
rumbustious twins they were impossible to miss.

One of the set saw me standing near the doors and yodeled, the other lifted his head and repeated the sound with
uncanny accuracy making me think of a pair of happily neighing horses. The rest of the table responded with some
kind of exclamation. Receiving their champion, no doubt. It was a bitter thought, but catching Katie's wide smile as
she looked back from her seat across them lessened the sense of aggravation. A few on this table genuinely cared,
after all, and those are the ones that truly matter.

With a jolt I realised that these were the words that Fleur had said to me when we were first reaching out to each
other. Most won't care, or actively try and do harm. But a few will care for no other reason than yourself. That made
me smile in earnest

So reassured, and considerably happier after having solved the egg, I joined my friends. Ron and Hermione making a
space between them so that I may sit.

"The prodigal son!" screamed Fred. That is, I think it was Fred.

"He returns!" came the echoing answer.

"He graces us with his presence."

Hermione seemed amused by this. She always seemed to enjoy the twins' byplay, much as she would never admit to
such a thing out loud, but her face oft softened with exposure to their overly boisterous character.

"Fred, George," I said, nodding at each one before turning randomly to someone else, "Gentlemen."

"You wound me and my kinsman, sir, with your pernicious omission. I demand satisfaction!"

I lifted an eyebrow imperiously, "You've been reading period novels, haven't you?"

"You forget, Harry," said Hermione, interrupting what was most likely another strangely worded, and curiously
accented, riposte from the other twin, "They are purebloods. They are, effectively, period revivalists."

"Oh! The wounds!"

"The betrayal!"

"Our blood turned against us!"

As it tended to happen, after the initial burst of silliness, the table subsided in their merrymaking and continued with
whatever they had been doing, which was mostly the very unexciting enterprise of eating. After having spent a good
while on the pool trying to assess how much I could trust my aptitude at swimming -Which was, unsurprisingly, not at
all- I felt highly inclined to partake in such an endeavour. I was too late for proper food though.

Oh good, treacle tart.

My ambush for the piece of confectionery was interrupted quite suddenly by Hermione's insistent tapping on my
elbow.

"Now just wait a minute, I am famished."

Ron snorted at that, recognizing Hermione's characteristic impatience just as well as I, and the futility of trying to
divert her.

"See, even Ron noticed."

This in turn caused a most unlady-like, and uncannily similar, snort from her.

"At least you can tell me what is wrong with Fleur while you eat? "

"What's wrong with-"

I raised my eyes from the delectable portion of ambrosia towards Ravenclaw's table and saw the clear expression of
disgust on Fleur's normally controlled face, a face directed at our group.

"Oh come on!" I exclaimed.

"What?" said Ron, face scrunching into a mask of confusion.

Katie, clearly not giving up on her overly complicated attempts of suicide, was looking at me with an exorbitantly
sweet expression, and smiling like a cat that ate the canary. She batted her lashes exaggeratedly and played with the
hoop on her ear when she saw me look.

"Harry!" came the indignant whisper from Hermione, "What happened after the ball."

"Now, don't get your knickers in a twist, Hermy," Her lips, already tight with suspicion, got to McGonagall's level and
almost disappeared directly, in mutiny at the nickname, "Katie is just trying to help. Or at least she thinks so."

Her suspicious expression didn't abate. Ron looked confused.

I didn't blame him.

"She is, how did she put it, 'acting as my wingman,' to both our detriment."

Her face turned to understanding and surprise in a jiffy. She turned incredulous to face Katie, who winked salaciously
at her.

"You two are almost more invested in this… situation, than I am myself."

"Not at all, Harry dear, we're only less clueless about it."

"What are you two talking about?" Ron said, in a confused tone that I sympathized with completely.

"Oh, nothing much. Only our very own Harry here is… flying around a flower, like a bee that doesn't quite know what
to do."

I frowned at her teasing, not finding it nearly as funny as she did, and not liking the way the twins had perked up at
the comment.

"Like you know any better," I mumbled and took an unceremonious bite of my treacle tart.

A faint flush rose to her cheeks and she worried her lip, "I- I didn't mean it quite like that. Sorry."

"Hmph, Well cut it out, for now," I glanced suspiciously at the twins gleeful expressions, "I have more important news.
I have the clue for the next task."

With as much secrecy as could be had in the Great Hall -meaning everyone would know some distorted variation of it
within the hour- I quickly told them what I had deduced from my findings.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, and then at me.

"Well, it's just as well you have time, mate. I don't have a clue what you could do about it."
"None at all? Your house has a lake in the backyard, for heaven's sake. Certainly you'd have seen your mother using
some spell or… something."

"It's barely a pond, Harry. The garden gnomes can't seem to manage to drown in it. Not even when they raid the
pantry and get plastered on butterbeer."

"What about you, Hermione?"

She shrugged, apologetic.

"Gods damn it, we live on an island! There must be... something!"

"Well," Fred said, who was close enough to have heard the whole thing, "There is the Bubble-Head charm."

Angelina snorted from his right, "Until there isn't," her nose wrinkled in disgust, "God knows I've had it fail in your
'workshop' often enough."

"Excuse me, can we go back to Bubble-Head?" I tried to haul the conversation back in track

"It's a standard Fifth year charm," replied Hermione, "It makes a- well, a bubble around the caster's face that
produces breathing air on the inside and acts as a barrier from the outside."

"Indeed," George said, "but it does take a fair amount of focus to maintain in proper working order, and it can be
quite... Finicky."

"There is also the matter of it working underwater," Katie added, massaging her sore cheeks after holding her
coquettish smile for so long, "and I don't think it allows you to cast anything else while it's active."

"Can't be worse than the one thing I had in mind, at least it wouldn't shred my mind like so much minced meat with
the effort," I said.

"Mind you," I added quickly at the assemblage of faces on varying states of startlement, "I haven't really made any
kind of actual research yet."

"Thank god for small mercies," muttered Hermione, "Don't worry though, we'll start that research presently."

Ron's instinctual groan must have matched my apprehensive expression, for our small group burst into renewed
laughter at it. I was not against learning in general, quite the opposite, particularly if it would help me save my skin.
Hermione though, she can be a bit… zealous, about the matter.

Nevertheless, her help, as well as her company, would be invaluable.

Wizards are cats. And no, I don't mean in a McGonagall kind of way. I mean in their general dislike of water. And
maybe in their attitudes towards other species.

Hmmm, now there's a thought.

After hours of scrounging around the oaken filled wilderness of the well reputed Hogwarts library that contained
amongst the transmogrified remains of thousands of trees, the collective knowledge of generations of mages of all
denominations dating back as far as the eleventh century -if Hogwarts a History was to be believed- I had not found a
single spell, potion or other type of magical contraption or effect that would allow a human to survive underwater for
any amount of time in any manner.

Well, that is not quite true. Human transfiguration came up readily enough, but the possible complications of it,
particularly for someone with my practical experience on transfiguration, would be pretty grave. I was not keen on
becoming a permanent patient of the experimental reversal of magical effects ward at St. Mungos, as Ron put it. The
idea was nevertheless archived in case we did not find anything else.

We, of course, found a good many spells useful for, or directly created for, seafarers, as one would imagine it would
in light of the general history of sailing in the whole region. From spells to control winds, or protect against storms,
repel sea creatures, shield against lightning, optimize the glide of a ship, reinforce and repair embarcations and so
on.
There were references to such types of spells dating back to the Dane's invasions and its formidable sailors. People
in general were nevertheless more focused on staying above water. There was a particular book written in some
incomprehensible form of old english that had, if the comical illustration accompanying it was to be believed, allowed
the affected to… bounce, if not quite walk, above water. Intended for helping men that went overboard, no doubt.

There was too, of course, the heavily taxing Water Animation spell in Dumbledore's diary. I was of a mind that it
would not be quite a good idea to try that after the experience with the Binding on the dragon, particularly when the
mass of water I would have to move was quite a bit more than the mere glass I estimated was within my current
abilities. Even so, the spell was dog-eared too, just in case.

At least I was reasonably sure that the thieves were mermaids, for I had not found any other creature that was
intelligent, submarine and had such pretty voices -Underwater, that is- after having extensively checked on the native
and imported creatures on the British Isle. There are several types of Mermaids, Mediterranids, Nords and
Germanics, the differences between them being mostly of appearance and culture. A bit like us humans, now that I
thought about it. And the most important characteristic they all share is that they don't have spells.

Against a capable spellcaster, properly aware of their presence and prepared, there was only so much they could do
with crude spears and swords. Not that they would ever find themselves in that situation considering that their whole
habitat is adverse to any normal spellcaster.

Ron and Hermione had gone back to Gryffindor Tower sometime ago, and I had stayed back with the excuse of
heading back to L'ermitage after picking up my things. I could not stop turning the matter of the Task around in my
mind and so it was almost an hour later that I found myself walking back to my haven. The faint light of a winter moon
shining in silvery blades that cut the stone from the castle, creating the open arches of the windows. Or at least that
was the impression it gave as the light entered through them, mostly clear, but tinted here and there with the colours
of stained glass.

It was then, absorbed in thought and blinded by the beauty of Hogwarts that I almost died.

Or at least that was the strong opinion expressed by my body, as it jumped in a half frozen pose towards the
horrifying sound that blasted from behind, eyes wide as could be, and I'm sure that if I had hair on my back it would
have risen like the shackles of a frightened dog.

The reaction was visceral and automatic. And even after my eyes, suddenly sharp even in the dimness, realized that
behind me there was only one of the old animated suits of armour that littered the castle, it took a few precious
seconds until I regained control and it became my body again.

The first thing I did with my newly regained captainship over said body was to curse in a manner that would make a
sailor take note. Quite appropriate, I'd say.

I turned, sudden as can be, and walked briskly towards L'Ermitage,the cause of the panic episode went on with his
merry and wild cackles that were supposed to be carrols, as it had been enchanted to do.

I stopped with my foot half way up. Now that was a thought.

If I could not find a way to go underwater for such an amount of time, maybe the best would be if I did not have to go
myself. With that in mind I hastened my pace, intent on going through Dumbledore's diary as I remembered
something written there about animating and enchanting that could be useful.

After getting to L'Ermitage and unearthing the diary from where I had it hidden I remembered why it was that I had
only given a cursory glance at that particular section. It was bloody complicated.

Parts of it didn't make any sense at all, and others appeared to be written in the very old letters some of the oldest
books on the library had been written in. The notes were actually about the very same suits of armour that had given
me the idea in the first place. Apparently a young Dumbledore found it a good starting point in his career in animation
and transfiguration to study the works that the founders had done on the suits of armour and statues around the
castle. What an interesting fella.

In any case, there is nothing I could actually do with that. It's just… far too much, and that is why I found myself
knocking on this particular door, at too early an hour to be socially acceptable. At least when classes were out.

Well, the door did swung open.

"Mr. Potter? Has something happened?"

"No, Professor McGonagall. Nothing happened. I just have a few questions," I ruffled my hair nervously, "I know it's
very early, and I'm that sorry, but I was just too… restless."

"Bah," she said, with characteristic expressiveness, "I don't remember giving you a schedule when I offered my help.
Come on in then, Mr. Potter."

After the required pleasantries were said, and I had had my fill of newt shaped biscuits and a very strong black tea,
we got to business.

"I believe there was something on your mind? Mr. Potter."

"Oh, yes. You see, I was curious about the arts of animation."

McGonagall's eyebrows rose speculatively, "Indeed. And may I inquire as to what brought on this particular bout of
curiosity?"

"Well, it seemed safer than human transfiguration."

At this her brows rose in earnest, and after a moment of searching my face she took her glasses off and pinched the
bridge of her nose, letting a suffering sigh escape her.

"It is, at that, but that is about as much as I would say in its favour. I'm sorry to disappoint you, Harry, but animation is
a very nuanced area of magic. You plainly are powerful, the First Task showed as much, but you can't dragoon your
way through a proper piece of animation. You need to know how to weave all the enchantments in a way that they'll
hold and not act in conflict with each other, how to anchor them so that they won't fade by the actions of other spells,
and that is counting on you already knowing the individual spells that would compose the full animation work well
enough to be able to use them."

"Oh, I… I see. I had gathered it was a complicated affair, at least from what I read about the castle's suits of armour.
But I had thought that maybe there was something simpler, it would not need to do anything too complex."

"Aye, maybe you think so. But how complex is too complex? You could maybe make a statue walk, which would be
easier than the suits since there is at least a continuous mass, but then, how would it know when to stop walking? Or
when to turn to one side or another? How would it know to avoid danger? Or seek it, for that matter. Even the
simplest of animations require hundreds of instructions, and the correct order for said instructions," she smiled as my
face dropped further, "I am maybe sharp enough to know why you would want to animate something, Harry, and you
not saying, but even if time were not a constraint, the - ahem- task for which you require an animated lackey is far too
elaborate for a simple minded construct."

"But I've seen you animate a whole tea set to dance with each other with nay more than a spell, professor, and
dancing is not quite so uncomplicated a task. I would know," I said with a rueful smile. She snorted at the understated
comment on my dancing skills.

"I'd say so too, Mr. Potter," her brow furrowed in thought, "and you would be right about that particular piece of
showmanship. There is indeed a piece of magic that would allow you control over an inanimate object so that you
could make the move in any way that you could think, as long as your body is familiar enough with such actions. For
your own body would form the blueprints for the movements."

"So I could never make a teapot dance, huh?"

"I'd say it's highly unlikely you could, no," Her lips twitched the smallest amount in amusement, "There are other
things you could do though. The spell is not at all easy, and requires an amount of focus that not everyone is capable
of mustering. Though, after the binding I've seen you do I think you would be quite capable. Still, I do not believe it
would be useful for what you want, but it might guide you to a better solution. Here," she said as she took a quill and
scribbled something on a piece of parchment before handing it to me.

I looked at the two small squares of paper on my hand and turned to her, a bit nonplussed.

"The book that details the spell is in the restricted section of the library, Mr. Potter," she pointed to the hand where I
had the Letter of Permission, "and I wrote the name of the book and author, as well as the spell, on there," She
pointed to the other, "I do have to warn you, it is not strictly an animation spell, nor a transfiguration one, so you
would have to… change your perspective some. And the rest of the book in general is unsavory at best, and not at all
something I'd recommend to any student were it not for the circumstances."

"I thank you, professor," I said, my spirits lifted that the idea was not totally useless.

"There is no need, the imperative of a Teacher is to teach, is it not?"

I laughed at that, "Yeah, Professor Dumbledore said something to that effect, too."

"Indeed he would," she smiled, "now go on ahead, Mr. Potter. As you said, it's quite early, and I think I could do with
some breakfast. Only-" she said as I was retreating to the door, "Be careful. Of what you do, yes, but even more so,
of what you decide to learn."

I nodded, not knowing what to make of the cryptic comment and turned towards the door.

Madam Pince clearly didn't trust me, if her glance full of suspicion was to be believed. But after examining the note
from McGonagall as minutely as she could for the better part of ten minutes she had to relent and let me into the
Restricted Section of the library. Nevertheless, she guided me to the book and settled me in an empty table, the old
tome set carefully so that the edge of it was aligned fastidiously to the border of the table.

I thought it more likely that the show of hospitality was more for the book's sake than my own.

The book was old, as most of the books in this part of the library were, but it was preserved with enough care that
were it not for the fact that it was written in old runes of some kind -and handwritten at that- you could be forgiven for
thinking it was as new as my regular school books. At least it didn't scream when I opened it.

I could not do much with it presently since I couldn't read runes, but leafing through it I could tell by the illustrations
that the entire volume was dedicated to some kind of study on the movement and animation of objects. The book was
not terribly long, at least when compared to a modern book on transfiguration, but had the same feel of orderly
thought. It reminded me somewhat of Dumbledore's diary, if a bit more refined. Edited, maybe.

"Harry," came a whisper to my left.

In response I drew back the chair closer to the sound all the while looking around for any nosey Parker.

"Is that the book?" said the invisible form of Hermione.

"Aye, I can't read it though."

"Hmmm, let me see," the book slided on its own to her side of the table, and a couple of pages turned, "These are
Anglo-Saxon runes. Old English, likely," A couple more pages turned, "Do you know the name of the spell?"

I put the piece of paper on the table with the words 'Beufan se Fraegen of gast Gedǣlest wiþ þing' and 'Sceadu
Geþoht' which being written in the letters I was accustomed to, had been quite hard to find in the book. After a few
minutes in which I got lost in thoughts of silver and gold and blue while the pages rustled, she said, "here!"

"Yeah… Still can't read it. What does it say?"

She shifted inside the cloak and her face appeared floating in front of the book, "Something like Shadowed Thoughts,
or Glass- no, Mirror, Mirror of… not thoughts, exactly but, the things that go through your mind that made you… be.
The word shadow is used in the sense of something that moves with you, something deeper than mere thoughts or
ideas."

"That sounds like what McGonagall said to me. You can make an object do something that you could do yourself, but
it's not quite animation as is commonly known."

"Hmmm… quite right. This here says that you 'wet' the object with your... ghost? I guess it means something like
essense and so the object is like a part of you. I don't think you need to move literally, here they use this 'Geþoht'
word again, I think the moves happen in your mind and the enchanted object makes them instead of your body."

"Like when you move an arm or something. It happens in your mind but your body reacts to it, only it would not be
your body but the object."

"Like your mind is the body and the object the shadow. That makes more sense. Mind you I could be slightly off, I
understand the words well enough, but old english is very archaic, and the words may mean something very different
than the literal translation," Her brow pinched as she looked at the startlingly white pages as if she could blackjack the
arcane symbols into revealing their meaning in a forthwith manner.

"What about the spell instructions? Are they clear enough?"

"What? Oh! yes, yes they are," she smiled wryly, "that part is more familiar, there are only a certain amount of ways
you could describe a wand movement, or any other component of a spell. It's a bit strange sounding still, but we do
Spell Instructions Translations every Friday in Ancient Runes. And the incantation is almost always plainly written,"
her finger slided over the page, searching, "Here, see? 'Ic flyht Ic abysgian.'"

The words were indeed written in a single line, almost separate from the rest of the text.

"Could you maybe write down the instructions in English?" I looked at her, "Normal English, I mean," I said as her
face took on the scholastic quality it does when she is about to correct someone. She flushed slightly, but
nevertheless nodded her assent. I stood to scout around and make sure we would not be interrupted.

The library was almost empty, and The Restricted Section even more so. From what I remembered of the exhibition
McGonagall had done with her tea set, the spell was not likely to make a lot in the way of sound. Good enough, I
thought, and made my way back to Hermione.

She was focused on her writing, and I saw with alarm that she was using my writing implements. Normally I wouldn't
mind, wouldn't have noticed even, but the fact that I had Dumbledore's Diary neatly tucked in my rucksack made me
feel uneasy about someone searching through it.

Normally I did not like carrying it about like so much a magazine. The thought had struck me though, that at the
moment, it was my most valuable possession, and with the threat of the piratical mermaids I felt even less inclined to
leave it out of my sight.

Well, to be fair to the mermaids, it would likely not be them directly to do the thieving.

"Everything is clear," I said, and Hermione emerged completely from beneath the cloak, folding it carefully.

Hermione's notes were short and to the point, as they tended to be. The spell in itself did seem straightforward
enough.

"A short spiral jab towards the object to the point of touching it as you say the incantation."

"Which is?"

"Ic flyht Ic abysgian," she tapped her finger on the black line on her notes.

I read it several times, mouthing the coarse and unfamiliar words as best I could, and making the small corrections
Hermione suggested. Feeling sufficiently ready I squared off valiantly to the inkwell and produced my wand in a
motion reminiscent of the drawing of a sword before making a sort of spiraling stab at it, my lips focused in the halting
uttering of the unfamiliar incantation.

I felt the warmth of magic rushing within and without my body, seeking the focus of the wand in the same way a
stream flows down a hillside, and as the Arcane energies flowed away from me, so did something else, something
nameless.

My vision blurred at the edges and I felt for the slightest of moments that I was going to faint, but then the blood
seemed to hasten back up to my head and my focus was restored. At least for the most part. I felt… distant.
Detached. I was faintly aware of my body. It did not feel all that 'mine,' to be honest. It felt about as mine as the small
glass ink container that sat in front of me, the world blurry around it.

"Move," I thought. The inkwell had to move, that was the only important thing. Nothing else mattered.

The inkpot, however, had different priorities in life, and remained stubbornly unmoving. I put all the focus I had on
accomplishing the herculean feat of making the small piece of glass walk a few steps, to the point that I could feel
sweat start to gatter on my brow. No matter how I worded it, or how much authority I gave the notion, it simply did not
work.

Feeling drained, disappointed, and not a small bit angry I made to step towards the table and fling the offending
container across the room in retaliation for its disobedience, but lo and behold the inkwell stepped forward, one of it's
corners stretching out in a mocking imitation of a leg. I gaped at it and the lid of the inkwell opened, burlesque.

I heard Hermione gasp excitedly somewhere in the fog around the Inkpot and the illusion of floating and oneness
faded. My hand fell to my side like so much lead, and my legs -obviously thinking that they deserved the same rights
as the upper extremities- gave way at the knees. Fortunately, my dictatorial control over my body had returned, and I
could manage to fortify them enough to hold my weight.

"You did it!" my friend clapped in the quiet manner that was particular to any enterprise conducted in the confines of a
library, "How was it?"

"That was… queer. I am a bit dizzy, to be honest."

"Oh, really? How so."

"You know when you get up too fast from a low chair, and everything turns for a second?" She nodded, "Kind of like
that. Though while the spell was active it felt more like…" I thought for a moment, trying to recall a feeling sufficiently
close to the peculiar feeling of detachment, "like, in the ball I had a few glasses of wine, and with all the dancing and
excitement I felt like I was floating slightly outside my body. Or like when you've been trying not to fall asleep for a
long while, and you are more asleep than awake. I remembered that I was trying to make the sodding thing move, but
try as I might I could not. Not until I moved towards it."

"Of course! That's what they meant in the book. The object moved when you tried to move, but your body didn't, since
your mind was elsewhere. Here, let me try."

She made a cute little lounge towards the inkwell as she casted the spell, and I could see in her eyes that the magic
had taken hold, for they grew wide as saucers and shifted as if trying to focus on something in the middle distance,
and then she pitched headfirst towards the table.

I made a sound of alarm and jumped towards her, catching her just before she broke her nose on the table. I held her
until I could see her cross eyed gaze finally focus enough that she could distinguish my face, inches from her's.

"You squeaked," her lips twitched in amusement.

"I most certainly did not,"

"Did too, like a mouse," she had the gall to giggle, quite literally, to my face.

"You are bloody welcome, by the way," I flicked her nose in a pointed gesture and she pushed away to let herself fall
unceremoniously on the bench, "What happened though?"

"Don't rightly know. I felt the spell hold all right, and then my vision started tunneling and next thing I know you are
holding me up," she shrugged, "I fainted, I suppose."

"Ah, yes. I felt everything dimming too, it is fairly similar to fainting," She looked at me questioningly, "Look, Malfoy is
a wee bastard, but he was not entirely wrong. I know how it feels to faint."

Her lips twitched again, "How'd you manage, then?"

"I pushed against it," I said and shrugged, "It wouldn't be the first time either. If you can't fight a faint after being hit by
a bludger you are fairly screwed. The dementors were… different," I shuddered in remembered dread, "there was no
fighting through that, not without magic, and even with it…"

Hermione nodded, a bit dubious, and furrowed her brows in thought, then nodded again and stood up with the
obvious intent of having another go. My first instinct was to stop her, but then I remembered the patronus lessons with
Lup- with Remus, and I figured that another try would not hurt any more than that.

I did stand ready in case further aid was required.

She made the same short lounge as before and, again, tipped forward after the spell held. Before I reached her,
though, she managed to find her footing, at the same time the inkwell made an awkward step to the front.

Hermione's expression was about as vacant as Ron's in divination class. You could see that something was
happening there, inside, but such happenings had nothing to do whatsoever to anything around him. Or her, in this
case.

Something was definitely happening on the table, though, as the Inkwell started slowly to bounce from one side to the
other until, after a while, it looked clear enough that it was dancing a waltz.

From there the testing went smoothly, the trick being that the spell almost made it so that the enchanted object
reacted to your movements, instead of your own body.

There was just one little problem. The moment the object was out of sight, the spell collapsed.

"Well, that was a waste," I frowned upon the capsized inkwell, it's vital liquid spilling on the, fortunately dark, wood.

Hermione, though, took the uselessness of the spell more philosophically and merely shrugged, paging through the
book.

"I don't know that it is," she said, "it's a start, at the very least."

"A start?"

"Yes," she looked at me like I was being particularly obtuse, "This whole book," she lifted the aforementioned in
emphasis, "It's quite particular in its content. As far as I can tell all the spells are of a similar nature. Maybe there's
something in it that would help, or in another book by the same author If there is such a thing I mean."

"Hmmm," I said in my usual display of eloquence, "Maybe that was McGonagall's idea. When she directed me to this
particular book I mean, as she cannot be seen aiding me directly. It's lucky you can read it though."

She shook her head, " I dont think it's luck. Professor McGonagall knows perfectly well that I have a fair level in
Ancient Runes. She helped me get in that class last year after all. And as head of house she is likely well acquainted
with our performance in all classes. As for being secretive, she does not really need to. You are not Hogwarts
Champion, are you?" Her smile was as sly as any I've seen on Fred or George's face. Man, she really has picked a
lot of Weasley mannerisms.

As for her comment, I just shrugged, "Be that as it may, I don't think it would be well viewed."

"In any case," she changed topic, covering herself with my cloak in one practiced move, "I'm taking the book."

"Of course you are, you little robber," a faint giggle and receding footsteps were the only response I got.

As it was, Hermione did manage to concoct something out of the book.

And so it was that we stood in the empty Gryffindor common room some two weeks later, Ron and I looking over her
notes, with a faint sense of disgust.

"I'm not too sure about this, Hermione," I said.

"Why in heaven not? It is something similar enough to what you wanted."

"Aye, well," said Ron, "It's a bit… I don't want to say dark, but a bit… unnerving, maybe."

"Humpf."

"Well, you do have to admit it does seem a bit… Frankentainish," I said.

"Alright, maybe this Hefner fellow was not the most agreeable wizard out there. And maybe most of his work is more
than a bit disturbing, but right now this is your best -and only- choice. We have enough time until the day of the task
that we could maybe be able to build it and do all the spellwork and have enough time to test it."

I traced the crude drawings on the parchment with my finger. Hermione would never be a great artist, but she
certainly had a fair enough hand to be able to instill a sense of wrongness to the construct borned of her mind.

"Well, it would certainly be convenient," said Ron, thoughtfully, "It would remove several problems that you could
have if you tried any other way. The weight of the water, for example, the lack of air and light, the creatures you may
find, and so on," He shuddered suddenly, "Still, all that blood. It seems like something the Malfoys would do."
I sighed, my eyes still on the drawings. The vaguely human shaped, lumpy statue with deep grooves carved into it
stared back at me from the paper with a featureless gaze, the head bearing none of the odd rune markings that
littered the rest of it. I could almost imagine the dark red liquid flowing in those grooves, a mockery of life.

"At least I would shed all that blood safely away from the Task," I looked up and saw them both eyeing me, waiting for
me to make a decision.

"Alright, then. Let's build ourselves a Golem."

It was, very surprisingly, a sunny day. She had thought that such a thing as a clear day, with blue skies and sunlight
streaming through her window was not something she would be able to experience in quite a while yet.

It was a vachement cold day, she thought as she let the comb slide soothingly through her hair, but with the heating
charms of the Carriage she could almost make herself believe that she was home, in France. This thought, however,
became disheartening as quickly as it had been comforting just scant seconds before.

She was not an idiote, quite the opposite in fact. She was well aware of the reason for such a feeling. Home was
quite a ways away from Scotland, and from this dreary, drafty castle. And even more so from the people that inhabit
it. She let out a breath and put the comb on the vanity; no, thinking of it in general terms did not help one bit.

She had so far managed not to dwell on it too much, but after Madame Maxime's unwanted prying into her affairs,
and the fact that for some reason or another she had not been able to see Harry for the last few days she had been
forced to think on the situation.

She had feelings for the young man, that much was obvious even to herself. She found this surprising, for everyone
always said that you are the last to notice when you lo- when you cared for someone. She threw a betrayed look at
her plain covered book, thinking that romance novels were most likely written by someone with a marked lack of
experience in the matter. Nothing had felt -or happened, for that matter- as anything she had read, be it in French, or
in the single English novel she had picked up in an attempt to practice her English before coming to Bretagne.

She had to admit though, that the adventures of fair Rosalind and the dreaded pirate Sawney had wormed their way
into her heart. And she had learned more than a few useful new words, she smiled as she was reminded of Harry's
reaction to her expanded vocabulary.

She had been… indecisive as to how to act on such a novel feeling. If, even, to act on it. Loath as she was to admit it,
she was feeling apprehensive at the prospect, for there were certain considerations in the matter.

He was younger for one, and also competing against her. He was, of course, quite famous in his own right, something
that was sure to get the tongues wagging were something to happen between them. For all that she put on her aloof
and nonchalant face to the busybodies, it was sometimes an extraneous task, and she was sure someone would
become well acquainted with the adage about a cat with a straw tail.

He, on the other hand, appeared to actually not pay attention to such rumours, but even he must have a limit and she
did not like the idea that she would be the reason he found them.

There was also the problem that Maxi did not like him, but Fleur was not so worried about that. It was true that
Madame was generally an excellent judge of character and had her safety in mind, but she did not know him like she
did. She still fumed -almost literally- when she remembered her suspicious, and unfounded accusations on his
character. In all fairness, it had been him that broke into the carriage, and more importantly, her room. Had Maxime
been there she would not doubt his integrity. Fleur's, maybe. But certainly not Harry's.

Her cheeks warmed as she remembered that morning. They had not been that close again, and she was surprised to
realize that she actually missed the experience.

Fleur clacked her tongue, she certainly would not mind that closeness. The problem was that she had no idea how to
initiate such a change in their relationship. She was fairly sure that Harry would not mind terribly if that were to
happen. For all that he was very discrete she could feel his gaze over her sometimes when he was sure she was not
looking, and those eyes of his, expressive to a fault. No, there was no doubt about what went through his mind
sometimes, for all that he didn't act on it.

Gods, it would be easier if he were to do so, but she was sure that he was as clueless as she was herself as to how
to continue, or even more so.
She had thought to ask her parents for advice, but not having talked to them about anything similar to this particular
conundrum before, she had been reluctant, blushing in mortification every time she took the quill to breach the
subject.

She had made a few hints, she thought as she looked at the few letters she had piled on the vanity, but her maman
had thought she was being bothered by some overly clingy acquaintance, if her responses were anything to go by.
Not that she could blame her, such occurrence being much more common, and her intimations so vague. Maybe she
would be able to ask more directly when she saw them.

The thought made her feel giddy. The last letter she had gotten -they took so long to get from here to France and
back, she lamented- had said they would be able to come see her for the Second Task. That made her glare at the
golden egg atop her small settee, this having become her usual reaction to remembering said task.

Time was running out and she was no closer now than she had been before to figuring out the maudit clue. She had
examined the magic weaved into the thing and appart from the obvious charms meant to give the cheap metal it's
Gold like appearance and resistance, there was nothing more than a simple recording in it. It lasted about 40
seconds, by her count before repeating itself indefinitely. The only clue this gave her was that something had actually
made that noise and someone had recorded it. And that whatever it was that made that noise would likely be in the
Task. She cursed again, not having forgotten the dragon yet.

A pecking in the small high window made her turn her head sharply, pulling her hair accidentally with the comb. She
had been half expecting to see Harry floating outside the window with that rueful smile of his. Her disappointment was
short lived, though, for she recognized Governor Baguette- little Gaby's ridiculously named owl- and scrambled to
help the big owl squeeze through the tiny opening.

The poor animal was clearly tired from the long voyage for it took flight to the darkest corner of the room as soon as
she took the letter, and covering his head with a wing, promptly fell asleep. It had not even bothered to take a bite
from the bowl of treats left for such a purpose.

Fleur herself was thrumming, the letter clutched possessively in her hands, as she delighted in the overly floritured
way Gabby always wrote her name on the address.

She sat on the settee and carefully broke the wax seal.

Chère Soeur,

Je suis aussi bien que possible...

It took her no more than five minutes to finish reading the letter. She sighed and set to read it again, feeling, as
always, bursting to talk to her petit soeur, to answer with immediateness to everything at all, and lamenting that no
matter how lengthy they got, they always felt oh so short after having been waiting for it so long.

She laughed at her harsh critiques of old Monsieur Gauvin, the ironically cranky charms teacher, and was heartened
to see that Gabrielle was not having any major trouble adjusting, even if she was not there to help with it. The first
year was not quite so rough, she remembered. They were all kids still, and the things that would cause troubles
between them were not yet important. The majority of the senior students, thank the gods, were here in Hogwarts,
and so the few that could bother her sister just for their dislike of her were far enough to be no trouble. No, Gabby
was having a magnificent first year, even if she did miss Fleur quite a lot.

Gabrielle, having always been a lot more outgoing than her sister, was making a lot of friends, which made Fleur
slightly nervous on her behalf, but maybe this way she would have more people on her side when -if- she went
through similar troubles than she had.

'Do not worry,' she had written, in answer to Fleur's rant about her feelings in a previous letter, a rather anonymous
one in respect to the object of her affections, 'I can't think of any reason why someone would not love you. I know I
do,' she had painted the notion with such innocence and matter of factness that her heart hurt for her sister, 'and as
you have always said to me, the ones that matter don't mind, and the ones that mind don't matter. He must care, you
did not scare him away even when you threw fireballs at him.'

Fleur laughed, embarrassed. She should not have told her sister that little missadventure, abridged as it was. She
hoped Gabby got no interesting ideas from that particular example. Maman would not be happy about that.

Avec tout mon amour,

 Gabby.

P.S: the way you wrote about the sounds your egg-clue makes reminded me of the story of Sir Goeffroi and
the secret treasure that grandmamma always read us.

Fleur gaped at the piece of paper on her hand. She had not paid attention to the postscript before, but now she
remembered the story Gabby was referencing. A story of a famous french knight that went in search of a hidden
treasure that some wicked men had stolen and hidden on an island, and island guarded by…

"Gods bloody, fucking hell!" She shrieked in English, to her own surprise, and stood suddenly, grabbing her borrowed
black and red winter coat to head to the Castle's library, not believing she had maybe gotten an answer to her most
pressing problem in such a way.

Author's Note

Good fooking morning, my dear readers. Not much to say about this chapter, except that I hope you all liked it. To the
reader that corrected my french on the last chapter, I thank you, and I'll make the corrections as soon as I'm able. I
thought better to finish this chapter first. Nice, long -That's what she said- chapter. I am aware that some people
aren't so fond of such wall-texty chapters, but some people - including me- do. i believe that I maybe managed to
make it so that it would be enjoyable regardless of it's possible defects.

As you all surely noticed, I made something a bit different in this chapter and gave voice to Fleur herself in the last
scene which is also written in third person, to the best of my current abilities. I wanted to give a bit more concise a
glimpse into what our dear French Flower is thinking, after all, as some of you pointed out, this is a story about Harry
and Fleur first and all else second. So exploring a bit of her point of view is probably a good idea. I'm not likely to do it
very often, probably only when her POV tell's us something important that Harry has not managed to see, or even
when Harry is incapable of giving us any Point of View at all. Let me know what you think about it.

Oh, and every time I write Fleur's POV I'll do it in the third person, as much to practice as to differentiate her text from
Harry's more easily.

Onto the reviews:

Guest chapter 14 . Jul 30: I normally don't address Guest reviews, but since this one has a question that is maybe
of general interest I will do it. First, thanks for your endorsement and recommendations, and second, yes. I do plan to
continue this story further from Harry's fourth year.

NeverGonnaStop: Mate, you should change your username to NeverGonnaStopReviewing hahaha, and I sure hope
so. Much obliged for all your input.

CrayonHB: As you likely noticed, my french is not my mother tongue hahaha, and neither is English. My level of
French is pretty basic, so I appreciate all the corrections and as soon as I am able i'll correct them, but I'll always give
priority to the next chapter, something that I think you will appreciate more.

Antares Graceford: There is little I can say to convey my thanks other that i probably appreciate your review as much
as you appreciate a new chapter of my story.

Other than that, I just want to apologize if maybe overpunctuated sometimes. I felt like I was drowning in commas in
this chapter, but if I reduced them then It did not feel right, so I left it as if.

Khaire,

David

P.S A huge, HUGE thanks to MegaDuck, Michal Drapalick (HonorverseFan on FFN) and Dragon from the Flowerpot
Discord server for making this chapter decent enough to read. I had to reread it to refresh my mind as i wrote the next
chapter and gods of Olympus, was that a train wreck before.

I am dropping an invite to the server here too. The purpose of the server is, in general, to promote the Harry/Fleur
ship in any way it can, we have a lot of writers, beta readers on hand for any writer that needs them, fan art spaces
and the best collection of prompts I have seen for the ship. Everyone is welcome, even if you don't feel like throwing
in to write a story.
It's a very active place, though, and if you like, you can always interact there with me. We have a lot of other authors,
among them:

gomez36000 of Hope and Healing

Ajax of A Different Kind of War

maybemayba of A Beautiful Lie

Salient Causality of Harry Potter and the International Triwizard Tournament

Come, join us. I can guarantee you'll enjoy the experience.

Invite to the Discord Server: discord . gg / k8ZxUjE

You know the Jazz, remove all the spaces. It's a permanent invite
*Chapter 16*: A Glimpse of Black
Chapter 16

A Glimpse of Black

I stood just under the threshold of the gargantuan main door of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and
breathed in. The sharpness and cold of the humid January air filled my lungs, spiced liberally with the faint peaty
smell that permeated the Highlands and the sweetness of roses and daffodils. Or at least that was the name Fleur
gave to those triangular leafed, yellow flowers growing in the garden. It was invigorating.

Standing on the boundaries of the castle proper was a queer feeling. My eyes closed, I focused on what I could
perceive, and in the darkness of my own lids, I could almost feel the tendrils of heat arcing from my body and seeking
escape into the heather and the wilderness. At my back stood a veritable wall of warmth, as solid as the stones that
fenced it, seeping into me, desperate for the feel of life and breath. Under those mundane happenings, if I paid
careful attention, I could feel another wall. A wall that was as alive as I, that caressed my sides and extended to the
stone, crackling, rebuking the advances of the warm air from inside. A cruel warden with strict instructions, but as I
stood, interrupting the flow of that living curtain of lightning, it hugged itself to me, which made a door, of sorts. The
jailed energy inside rushing to escape, thanking my accompliceship with a warm embrace.

"You look like you are enjoying yourself," said an amused voice, warming me more than any delinquent warm air ever
could.

"You were right."

"Of course I was," she said, unfazed by my non sequitur, "You are going to 'ave to be more specific, though. It's not a
unique 'appening after all."

"Magic," I said simply, keeping my eyes closed but not being able to suppress the tiniest of smiles as I saw her lift her
brow in my mind's eye, that infinitely endearing gesture of both expectancy and defiance. I opened my eyes to find
that exact expression -albeit with a different scarf than I imagined- in front of me, a step down from the main stairs so
that, for once, I was looking down at her.

"It's beautiful."

I felt my face get warmer as I spoke, but as I was already flushed from the cold, I was fairly sure that she had not
noticed. Her face, though, lit up both with the warmth of a smile and the ruddiness of delight in compliment.

Gods, how had I missed her. It's almost ridiculous, but after just about a week of only sharing a smile or two across
the hall or the grounds I was desperate to just have more time with her.

"It certainement is," she nodded in agreement, eyes of swirling blue, bright and enchanting, "You, though, are
certainly 'ard to find when you put your mind to it."

She stood, expectant, eyes wide and brows high, twirling leisurely side to side. Something that, I noticed, did amazing
things for her- "I did disappear for a bit, didn't I?" I ruffled my hair, "Had a busy week, I guess."

She may have been unaware of my blush, but there is no way she failed to take notice of my roving eyes. She did not
stop her beguiling rocking, though.

"So did I. It was… Dull, without you, mon petit."

"It sure was," my lips twisted upwards, jocund at the endearment. I gestured towards the grounds and she nodded,
pulling the edge of her Gryffindor scarf higher. Huh, if this continued I would have to buy another whole set of livery,
"What kept you? Something to do with the task?"

"Amongst other things, yes. I solved the clue. Or rather, my sister did."

"Your sister? Isn't she at Beauxbatons?"

"She is. But you know what they say, problems look different from afar."
"Quite. And the farthest from that infernal screeching hunk of rubbish the better."

Her laugh sang, "It was my… colourful description of the noise what clued 'er in. It reminded 'er of a story our Grand-
mère use to tell us when I was small."

"Must have been one hell of a description."

She shrugged, "I was less than pleased with the damnable thing. I needed to rant to someone, I suppose."

"Oh, I feel you," she turned to look at me, lips quirked and brow raised teasingly, "It's just an expression," I defended,
which only served to make me more embarrassed, and make her more amused.

"Of course it is," she continued walking with a pleased air. "You solved the clue too, I gather."

"Oh, yeah. Well, Cedric told me how, to be fair."

"That's the opposite of being fair, 'arry."

I shrugged, unrepentant, "And just as well, I'm not sure I would have gotten such an obscure clue. I mean, who
would? Not like many people have heard mermaids sing outside water."

She stopped in her tracks, "mer- Oh, of course. I 'ad thought sirens, but the waters would be too cold for them 'ere,
now that I think."

"Aren't they basically the same thing?"

"Ugh!" she stomped her foot and started to walk with long, brisk strides, "They are very different, 'Arry," she waved
her hands in emphasis, "The fact that they are considered creatures does not mean all of them can be lumped
together thoughtlessly. That's- that's- wrong! And- disrespectful!"

"Whoa, there," I said, slowing my pace, in hopes she would too slow down from her abrupt spurt of Olympic walk,
else I would have to break into a trot to keep up, "I meant nothing by it, Fleur. I mostly meant for the Task, it would not
matter if it were one or the other."

She looked at me, and then away, her pace relaxing from the passionate march from moments before.

The gravel under our feet, wet with melted snow, crunched under our feet as we walked In silence towards the
carriages that went to Hogsmeade.

"I'm sorry," she said after a while, and I knew she was. From the moment she fell silent and started fiddling with the
hem of her coat I knew she regretted her words. Or at least the way in which she spoke them.

I remembered in that moment the nervous fidgeting of the first time that she had apologized to me and felt a sudden
and overwhelming surge of tenderness

Slowly, carefully, I took one of her hands in both of mine, feeling the heat of it as if I was holding a particularly warm
cup of tea.

She stopped walking and looked at her hand in mine with wide eyes.

"It's all right. I know it was not me you were upset with, not really."

Her eyes turned towards mine still wide, and softened after a second, her whole demeanour relaxing, and answered
with a wavering smile.

I went to drop her hand, but she squeezed mine and, still holding it, resumed her walk, throwing me a sidelong smile
that was considerably surer than the previous.

"You can talk to me about it though, if you'd like."

She looked at me for a second and shook her head.

"Non. Not 'ere, at least, and not like this. Though… Thank you. Thank you mon 'Arry,'' She squeezed my hand and
with a burst of liveliness that was both comforting and troubling, she pulled me towards the closest, luckily
unoccupied, carriage.
"You know, petal, I think I know just the thing to cheer you up."

She groaned, as she always did when I called her any flower related name. Unfortunately for her, that groan was one
adorable sound.

The warmth of the carriage received us and our smiles, inviting more so for the privacy it offered than for the comfort.

All right, maybe the suggestive comment became a bit too bold for me after we got into the dark, private and cosy
interior of the carriage, our knees brushing together with every bump and every little move, the heat of her body like a
tiny furnace, making me wonder how in hell can she be so affected by the cold and making me sweat some, for
several different reasons.

There was little conversation for most of the way, we had in all fairness been away from each other for little more than
a week, and a pretty uneventful one at that. We could talk about the Tournament, I suppose, but it's not something
that we tended to talk about outside of sheer necessity. I guess we are too competitive for that.

Besides, the furtive glances and fleeting touches were enough to occupy my whole attention. Something had
changed between us. What, I could not say. Nor am I sure I'd even want to.

Eyes wander and take the mind for a ride. Fingers clutch into the imagined warmth of a muse that is as close as she
is far.

I know she has noticed. She can't not have. She's too sharp to let something like that pass without notice, and that
sharpness, that quickness of wit that I so enjoy were the cause of my worries.

She is sure to be disgusted, I'd think. What frail friendship I had managed to build would go up in flames -something
that almost got a way to literal meaning that one time in her room- and I'd be alone again.

All right, I may have been a tad sensitive on the matter of friendship because of Ron, but still, I'd seen the loathing in
those clear eyes every time some lust-addled bastard came to sweet-talk her, that wrinkle at the top of her nose that
emerged at the sight of an inbound boy, bouncing on his feet and full of himself.

My fists tightened at the thought, clutching the fabric of my outer robe with a prejudice it didn't merit.

A touch. The mere graze of her leg against mine was enough to dispel the jealous thoughts and relax my offended
appendages.

I looked at her glittering eyes, bright even in the dim of the carriage, and in the little crinkles on the corners of them I
found a reassurance that was not mine to take.

"So," she said, "where are we going? Besides the obvious, of course."

"I'm not quite sure," I ruffled my head again, trying to put my ideas back in some semblance of order, "I need to buy a
couple of things for my solution to the task. You see, I-"

Her finger touched my lips and I almost cracked my head open on the roof of the carriage, she giggled and my lips
tingled.

"That's enough, Monsieur. You wouldn't want to reveal your plan to me, would you? How could I win another chocolat
'aul fairly if you go spilling your secrets?"

I smiled against her finger and I could feel her arm flinch back but it ultimately remained in place.

"So, are we doing this again then? The bet?" her neck flushed rosy when I spoke, my lips moving slightly against her
finger. Her hand fell to her lap quickly at that.

"Oui," her coloured face rose teasingly, "I would not deprive you of a chance to gift me sweets."

"Your generosity is as boundless as your bea- *coffs* well, it knows no bounds."

She looked at me with such a softness on her gaze that I wanted to jump her. I wanted to jump away from her. I
wanted to run my fingers under her cap and dip them into the liquid gold of her hair.
On that very moment, the carriage stopped. The sharpness of the stop jolted me from what were entirely
inappropriate thoughts, and I hurriedly vacated the vehicle, making use of what little control over myself I still
possessed.

I stood at the door ready to help her in the most gentlemanly manner possible. She poked her face out, expression
unreadable, and extended a delicately shaped hand towards me.

I helped her down.

She did not let go.

We walked for a few minutes in silence, enjoying the calm of Hogsmeade outside visiting days. Chilly winds lifted the
powdery snow that collected on the edges of the road, chilling my rushing blood, chimneys puffed happily into the ice
blue sky.

"Are we going somewhere particular?" Fleur asked, her gaze going from one storefront to the next.

"I think. I don't really know where to buy the things I need, but the jewellery shop would be a good place to start."

She glanced quickly at me and then fixed her face on the road, "I thought you were 'ere for the task."

"We are. Why else would I go to a jeweller?"

"I don't know. A present, maybe," her grip on my hand tightened, "I noticed your friend likes big earrings."

"Hermione? She doesn't wear-"

"Katherine."

"Oh," The air lost some of its chill all of a sudden, "I guess she does."

Fleur's hand tightened even more, and the heat that came from it was startling. Nice going, Potter. I had to give it to
Katie, it appears she actually knew what she was doing.

"It's a shame I'm not getting earrings then, isn't it?"

She turned to face me, the frown that had pulled at her features released its hold, but it did not abate entirely. The fire
behind her eyes did not lessen.

"Oui. A crying shame," she said and leaned against my arm.

Aelfwine and Co. was an orderly and bright place, filled with small cabinets containing any amount of shiny trinkets in
varying shades of gold and silver and stones of any hue you could care for. A person stood behind the counter that I
assumed to be Mr Aelfwine. The name certainly fit him. Slim to the point of looking unhealthy and with grey eyes that
were way bigger than his face merited, he stood with a dignified air looking straight at me.

I exchanged a glance with Fleur, and shrugging, she set about perusing the exhibition.

"Er, good day, Mr Aelfwine. I was hoping you could help me with something."

He looked at me, impassive, and let his gaze slide to Fleur where she stood tuning her fingers over some piece of
jewellery.

"White gold would suit her. However, she doesn't seem overly fond of adornments."

"What? Oh! No, that's not- I mean- Ahem, I need to procure the items on this list. I didn't really know where to look,
but I thought maybe you could point me in the right direction," I gave him the list, my face warmer than usual.

He checked it and his eyebrows rose.

"This is…quite an unusual set of items, young man."

"I am aware," I said a bit miffed, "kind of the reason I don't know where to get them."
His eyes dropped once more to the piece of parchment and he hummed, "I could indeed get you most of it. It would
take time, mind, and it would not be cheap. Were I not aware of your celebrity, I would have said no outright."

My opinion of Mr Aelfwine kept dropping by the second

"Could you make an estimate? Both time and price."

With a flick of his wrist a quill was in his hand, and he scribbled in my list. While looking straight in my eyes he gave it
back.

I couldn't help but google at it.

"That… that is quite a bit of gold."

"I could say the same to you, Mr Potter, and that is not even taking into account the very particular stones you ask for.
Those are certainly not going to be easy to procure."

"I would have to pay on collect."

His lips tightened, "that is a substantial amount to risk, I'm sure you would understand."

"Believe me, sir, it's a life and death situation for me. The risk you take is no bigger than the one I take by trusting
you."

He glanced back sharply towards Fleur and his already pale face lightened a shade more, his eyes widening
substantially before locking into mine again.

"I can pay you about a third of the price upfront," I am pants at haggling

He nodded slowly, his eyes glancing from me to Fleur nervously, "I-that would be agreeable. Yes, that would do."

I put my whole purse on the counter and waited for him to weigh it and give me a ticket. Fleur noticed the exchange
and started towards the door.

"For what is worth, Mr Potter. I am sorry about your situation."

That was unexpected. "I- Thank you."

He looked towards the store's entrance where Fleur stood silhouetted against the dark wood

"It's inconceivable that such things are allowed to happen anymore," his lips tightened and he turned back to me,
"Good day, Mr Potter, And best of lucks."

"That Mr Aelfwine, is quite the strange fellow," I said as we walked in search of a place that might offer refuge and
warmth.

"'ow so? He seemed normal enough."

"Don't know… he got really nervous towards the end. Hope he's as good as his word, I left all my money with him. I
am going to have to sneak to Gringotts soon, he gave me a two weeks estimate for procuring the… things."

"What in 'eavens did you buy?

I looked at her, beautifully shaped eyes open in surprised curiosity, head cocked to the side, a few locks, curled by
the stringent embrace of her thick winter cap, which they had managed to escape floated in ringlets around her face.
The jeweller was right. She was not wearing a single adornment, but oh how very lovely did the shining gold look
against her pearly skin.

I tried not to, I really did. But such an adorable expression made it impossible, and I felt my lips tremble into a big
loopy grin.

"Hoops."

"Excuse moi?"
"Earrings. Lots of them. Big, gold hoops with plenty of diamonds. Oh! and garnets, beautiful, honey-coloured
garnets."

I stepped back, having absolutely predicted her immediate abuse of my shoulder and cackled at her face, clearly
fighting herself to make a serious expression, failed miserably and gave way to her own mirth.

"Tu es impossible," she huffed.

I bumped her shoulder with mine softly as she pouted, her arms crossed mockingly.

"Maybe, my aunt certainly thought so."

"'Arry I didn't-"

"I know," I interrupted. I remembered suddenly why it was that I did not like to talk about my home and cursed myself
for a loose tongue.

"It's okay, though. For all your quirks, I still like you."

I smiled like a loon at that

"Really? Because I-"

Woof!

We jumped, the resounding bark shaking us from our relaxed banter. A huge dog was running towards us from a dark
alley between two stores, paws splattering rhythmically in the murky ground.

My eyes must have looked about the same size as the rim on my glasses as I stood quite still, not knowing if I was
truly seeing him here. I had the faintest and most disturbing déjà-vu of the few times I saw the 'grim' last year, and
thought with an uneasy shiver that seeing it spelt death.

The massive shaggy mass rounded up on us, barking madly and bouncing circles around us. Fleur fumbled in her
coat with one hand while she clung to me with the other, letting a fluid tirade of French that I was quite certain was not
flattering at all.

I was frozen to my feet.

A familiar word in between the flow of profanities and the dog crashed mid-jump into a solid wall of air. A
disconcertingly human huff and a whine saw the dog running away towards the place he had come from. When it was
a few dozen meters from us it stopped for a moment and looked back at me with sharp grey eyes before turning back
and fleeing.

"Where did zat dog even-"

"Wait," I whispered, "Wait!" I shouted. My legs decided to cooperate at that moment and I took off after it, running like
my life depended on it. I got to the corner where it had disappeared with barely enough time to see the back tail turn
another corner.

I picked up my pace.

The winter coat was dragging me down, the wet ground slippery and treacherous. My socks were getting wetter and
wetter with each step, my body growing uncomfortably warm.

"'Arry, wait!"

I turned briefly to see Fleur tailing me, her long hair swinging to and fro wildly behind her.

I cursed loudly and colourfully, and for one moment I thought to stop, to let Sirius go and try and make up an excuse
for Fleur. What the fuck was I going to say? And what the fuck was my very much outlawed godfather doing here? So
I kept running, following the fleeting glimpses of black. I could hear the splat of her steps as she called to me while we
twisted and turned around the scattered winding alleys around the part of Hogsmeade that people actually lived in.

Just a couple houses more, and the landscape quickly opened into a green plain. Sirius shot though the firm grounds
faster than I could ever hope to and after a few dozen meters, disappeared. I stopped, stomped and cursed again,
hearing what was likely quite close to a real-time translation behind me. It carried the same sentiment, at the very
least, if a bit more wheezingly.

Fleur caught up to me and doubled over, a cloud of mist coming out of her mouth as she tried to get her breath back.
Thoughts came hurried and unbidden to me of Sirius getting caught by someone while he tried to sneak up looking
for me, it had been a near thing last year and now there were a lot more people wandering around the castle and the
grounds, it was just a matter of time before he slipped. I could not allow him to take such a risk.

I looked at the absolutely red-faced girl panting next to me, fuming almost literally in the cold. I would have to take the
risk myself, I thought as my heart clenched. I made my choice.

"What the diable was that?" she managed to breath out, "Why did you chase that dog?"

I mouthed, trying to come up with something that didn't sound half as insane as 'Oh, that was only my convicted
murderer of a godfather. I wanted to visit with him.'

"'Arry!"

I grabbed her shoulders and looked at her intently, trying to convey with my eyes what I could not with my voice. Her
hair brushed against my fingers and I realized belatedly that she had lost her hat in the chase.

"Trust me. I can't explain right now, please."

She looked at my face, searching for something, biting her lip, and nodded slowly.

With only that as reassurance I dashed towards the wilder and colourful heather where Sirius had -only
metaphorically, I hoped- vanished.

"Padfoot!" I called, only barely having the presence of mind to not scream his name. "Padfoot, come out!"

My foot slipped and I fell forward, hitting the ground and falling, small branches wiping all around me and small stones
hitting and scraping me as I rolled. I kneeled, groaning and coughing as I tried to get my wind back, half walking half
crawling towards the slope, if only so that I could answer the frantic calls of Fleur before she fell right after me.

"I'm okay," I managed to let out feebly, "there is a fall, be- *coff* be careful."

What looked like a plain for hundreds of meters ahead actually had a pretty sudden drop about my own height, the
resulting wall looking distinctly rocky, if moss covered. Fleur leaned over the edge and looked down. I tried to smile
reassuringly but the effect was not likely very convincing as I'm sure I had a growing lump and my cracked glasses
refused to remain straight on my face.

A very much human whine drew my eyes downwards and there, behind a mossy, brambly sheet of short vegetation I
could see the yellow reflection of animal eyes in the dark. Fleur jumped down, landing graceful and light next to me.

As soon as her feet hit the floor, a menacing rumbling replaced the whines. Fleur was quicker this time and pointed
her wand directly at the sound.

I put my hand over hers and we shared a look. Slowly, reluctantly, she lowered her wand. I kept her hand in mine so
that she did not raise her wand again, or so I said to myself.

"It's okay," I said to her, to Sirius, to myself. "It's okay, Padfoot. She's with me, come out."

The great body shifted where he was hiding, alternatively whining and growling in a very articulate series of
vocalisations.

"Come on Padfoot, I trust her."

More reluctant sounds, ended with a very huff like bark.

I could feel Fleur shaking slightly, which worried me until I saw her face and realized she was trying not to laugh.

What a sorry look I must be, soggy and muddy, scrapped and bumped talking to a dog that seemed to be arguing
back with cries and barks.

"Oh, laugh it up, will you." I dropped her hand, only to have her snug closer and lean her head against mine, looking
towards the shifty eyes in the dark.

"I did not know you 'ad an escaped pet dog, Mon petit."

This caused a loud bark that sounded very much like laughter from Sirius.

"I guess that's one way of putting it." I sighed, "are you gonna come out, or are you going to keep being so stubborn
about it."

The answering whine was eloquent enough.

"'e doesn't seem to want to come back. Poor boy, did 'arry not walk you enough?"

Oh god. I can't believe Fleur is baby talking Sirius. This needed to stop. I slipped away from her, urging her to stay
back with my eyes and approached the shrubby curtain, kneeling in front of it, my face close enough that I could feel
the warm and frowsty dog breath on my cheeks.

"Sirius," I whispered, "I know what you are thinking, she's a foreigner and you don't know her, it's dangerous. But I
can assure you, she will understand. If you have any trust in me then trust her too."

He made a noncommittal sound and his snout pushed through the leaves presenting me with a huge, sniffing nose.

"I don't even know what that means."

With little warning he pushed out of wherever he was hiding and swerved skilfully around me, heading straight for
Fleur. She stiffened and her eyes widened a tad as he neared, but to my relief, no spells were thrown.

He walked around her sniffing exploratorily. Fleur didn't seem really happy at the attention but she bore it. Something
made Sirius sneeze explosively a couple of times, but his subsequent happy barks and tail wagging must have meant
that he found whatever he was sniffing for.

A couple bounces and he was through the shrub again. Fleur, for her part, swallowed hard and kept her distance.

"You really don't like dogs, do you?"

She shook her head, "it's not that. Dogs don't like me. They get really aggressive around me."

Sirius poked his head out, his pointy ears perked, and barked, quickly disappearing into the leafy depths.

Poking my head in turn I could see that the small bush was covering an opening in the rock that sloped gently
downward until it was too dark to see anything else.

"There's a cave," I said, "he wants us to follow."

"You are joking, surely."

I sighed and closed my eyes. "This… this is something that is really important for me, Fleur, but it's something really
dangerous too. I trust you. I trust you enough to share this with you, but I can't ask you to keep such a secret."

She looked at me, her head cocked, her gaze piercing. Under any other circumstance, such level of attention would
have made me squirm.

She nodded, eyes focused, "let's go then."

"Are you sure about this?"

"You may not be the gallant knight that outthinks trolls, Mon petit, but I am under no illusions, you are far from normal.
And I trust you too, you've earned that. I'll go with you."

I sighed, "I have to do it. I can't tell you how important this is for me, but the weight I will be putting on you… I- I have
no right to do-"

She put her fingers to my lips again, the light pressure quite enough to silence me.

I'm pretty sure my eyes were even wider now than when I had first spotted Sirius, and my breathing was coming
short. Too short.

"I said I'd go," she said firmly, her tone belied by her soft kaleidoscope eyes, "if the weight you carry is so great, then
you should not carry it alone."

"But-"

"Too late, I 'ave made up my mind and that's that. You took a stupid risk before for me, did you not? Let me do the
same for you. Will you?"

I screwed my eyes shut, for I knew that It would take but a glance at the slumped arches of her barely there eyebrows
to make my eyes swim.

I nodded sharply, which made her finger unexpectedly poke the tip on my nose and prompted nervous laughter from
both of us.

Her hand fell onto my shoulder, it's warmth cutting the ravenous cold of the sharp winds. With a deep breath and a
look of gratefulness that tried to express everything I could not otherwise, I marched towards the curtained cave and
pulled the green doors to the side.

Fleur's composed face wavered for a moment as she gazed into the dark, but with a purposeful gesture, she
straightened and lighted her wand.

A raised, challenging eyebrow made my lips quirk and then, with a whispered Lumos, my wand was lit too. and we
went into the dark.

The cave's wall reflected the magic fueled light, distorting the already lumpy and slippery ground and making the
gentle slope feel a lot more challenging than it should have been. It was also frigid to the point where my fingers were
starting to hurt, a chilly breeze moving out of the tunnel and then back in, as if the very stone were breathing around
us.

It took only a few dozen steps until we got to a place where the walls opened into a bubble the size of a small room,
even if the tunnel probably went on, for the breeze had not stopped. A small pile of fabric resembling a nest was
laying near the wall, a pile of newspapers next to it, but by far the most eye-catching detail of the 'room' was the five
hundred kilos of feathered menace that lay paws crossed right in the middle of the way.

The bright yellow eyes of Buckbeak, shining eerily in the dim light, fixed to mine, and I could swear I saw recognition
in his eyes before his head bowed in a small gesture. Buckbeak shifted his eyes then to Fleur's, whose mouth kept
moving trying to form words, and his eyes looked about as surprised as hers. The beast made a recoiling motion and
his feathers ruffled, his head then extended forwards as he sniffed the stagnant air.

"Is that a-"

"Do not move, Fleur. Let him think."

The longest few seconds passed while Buckbeak made up his mind about Fleur, my muscles were taut and ready to
pull her away should the need arise.

A sharp bird's cry reverberated through the cave wall's and Buckbeak's head lowered in a reverence that almost
made me slump in relief.

Fleur still looked peaked, and her sharp features looked more menacing under the flickering light than I had ever seen
them before. "It's okay," I said, "It's okay. He likes you." She turned towards me with a facefull of incredulity and I
barked a laugh. Now I knew how Hagrid felt.

From behind the feathered mass surged a head of black, with such dishevelled hair that were it not for the colour
you'd think it was a ruffled spot on Buckbeak's back. "Well," Sirius said, as he came around Buckbeak, "If little Bucky
here thinks she's okay, she's fine in my book."

I smiled and surged forward, "Sirius!"

He smelled terrible. A mix of animal odours and damp, blood and musk, and his hair was greasy where it touched my
face, but I could not have been happier as I hugged my godfather for the first time in nearly a year. He patted my
back, "How are you, kiddo?"

"Better now that you are here. No, wait," I said as I stepped back, "What the fuck are you doing here Sirius. Are you
crazy? Delirious? The whole town is crawling with people and ministry officials and foreigners, and that's without
saying anything about the castle."

His head cocked towards the pile of newspapers near what I had to identify now as an improvised dog bed, my heart
clenching at the thought. "I could not very well stay away after all that is happening here this year, could I? The
debacle at the world cup, then the tournament… no. I had to get here."

Fleur shifted her feet, drawing our attention back to her. She looked between Sirius and me, clearly asking for an
explanation of some kind.

"So, Harry, are you gonna introduce us or am I gonna have to do the honours?" His face shifted from the
apprehensive expression it had been wearing to a charming smirk that would have been handsome had he not been
covered in filth and generally looking like an- a starving prisoner. My heart clenched painfully again, and I started to
think that this was going to become a common occurrence near him. The speed at which his expression shifted was,
too, a bit troubling.

"Ah, yes," I shook myself from my thoughts, "Fleur, this- ahem, this is my godfather," I gestured to Sirius who bowed
deeply in a courtly way, "Sirius, this is Fleur. She's my- my friend." Fleur nodded, though by her face this left her with
even more doubts than before.

"And the French Champion, unless my memory fails me. Though I don't see how it could, in this case." Fleur
stiffened, and Sirius laughed, his eyes shifting from her to me before he shook his head, a cryptic smile on his face. "I
would offer you a seat, but the situation is a bit tight in this household." He said and took a seat on the ground,
leaning back against Buckbeak's side.

I looked at Fleur, but she did not seem to show any sign of recognition. I sighed, this could either prove to be a good
thing or not. I put a hand on her shoulder and sat in front of Sirius, she followed suit. A shiver shook her as soon as
her bottom touched the cold stone and she nuzzled to my side, her face tinting ever so slightly even as head tilted up
proudly.

'You don't look surprised, lass."

Her nose scrunched, "Now that you mention it, monsieur, I was expecting a black dog."

Sirius cackled and kept laughing until he could not make any sound. "Oh my, I haven't laughed like that in… I think I
can't even remember." He said as he dried his eyes. He then looked at me, grey eyes questioning. I gulped. I nodded.
His eyes shined with an unidentifiable emotion. "Well, Miss, you are seeing the black dog," he snickered, "In more
than one meaning. But that is not what I meant before. I suppose you can get a pass at not recognizing my celebrity,
seeing as you are French. My name is Sirius Orion Black, tried and convicted for the murder of twelve muggles and a
wizarding war hero, at your service." he bowed her head at the end. His voice got progressively darker as the
sentence moved forwards, and then he suddenly perked up, his hair bouncing, "You need to add prison break to the
list of charges now! Nice."

Fleur looked at me, obvious confusion in her eyes, the shifty attitude of Sirius not lending weight to most of what he
said. I nodded, and her porcelain skin became even closer to what it was compared to.

"It was-" I exhaled, "It was the day my parents died. They had been protected under a powerful charm, under the
word of one of their closest friends, but they were betrayed, and it led to their- to- well… You know what happened." I
sighed.

Sirius, seeing that I was having trouble with recounting a story that was so entwined to me took the lead.

"It was one of our closest friends, the betrayer, the rat. I could not believe it, but as I stood in front of the ruined house
I knew it had to be so. It was a wreck. The roof had collapsed and almost all of the structure had been crushed under
it. Little more than a pile of rubble. The only thing that managed to make me move was Harry crying. I had heard that
cry so many times before… it just pushed me to action. Harry was in his crib, bawling, and Lily- oh gods, Lily. That
was the only room in the house that was intact. I had twelve years to think what it was that she did, but It still escapes
me." He pinched his nose, his face pained by remembrance, and a warm, dainty hand found itself in mine. I gave
Fleur a watery, thankful smile.
"I don't know how much time passed. I honestly can't remember. I just remember lulling Harry to sleep, and then the
sound of my bike. I wonder what became of that bike. I hope that Hagrid still has it ." His eyes got lost in the middle
distance, his hand leisurely playing with his goatee. "Anyway," he said as he shook himself off, "Hagrid got there
sometime later on my bike. I was still in shock. He thought it would be a good idea if someone else had Harry for a
bit, until I was good enough to know which way to put my shoes on again. I think I agreed… In truth, little Harry was
the only thing keeping me grounded at that moment, and as soon as Hagrid was away I only had rage in my mind."

He gave a deep sigh that seemed to deflate him, an effect exacerbated by the shallowness of his features. Fleur was
sitting straight as could be, her eyes focused on Sirius, her hand posed over mine in between us.

Sirius took a noisy, despondent breath, his eyes still focused on something that was not here.

"It was easy to track him, the traitor. We had been as close as family before, and in times of war, we made sure we
could always find the others. He did not even try to reason, he knew there was no space for that, not after what he
did. He did not stand a chance against me, and he knew that too." Sirius waved his arms around, too far into memory
to even notice whom he was speaking to.

"I remember his face paling as he caught sight of me, I can still count the freckles on his face, even today, I can see
his shifty eyes growing wide, his chin wobbling. I was savouring his fear. He started to scream then, I could not make
up the words, I was too focused. He drew his wand, but mine was in my hand already. I shot first. He dropped to the
floor and shot back, I just laughed, the spell was way too wide to hope and hit me." He shook his head despondently
"I was an arrogant, wrathful idiot. He knew he could not take me, the spell was not aimed at me, it hit something
behind me that caused an explosion. I was blasted off my feet."

He looked towards the cave's roof, thoughtful "I think I may have passed out for a few moments, but that whole day is
such a blur that I cannot be sure. What I do remember was waking up with a severed finger inches from my face. It
had the ring Peter always wore and I just started to laugh. I could not stop, I thought I was gonna asphyxiate, the
bastard was next to useless with a wand, but he was clever, I forgot that for a moment and paid for it. There were
screams everywhere, dust and noise. I think I was hit by a stunner. Next thing I know, I'm in Azkaban. It took me a
while to even learn what were the charges against me. Pettigrew's explosion had killed twelve muggles, and he did
not only manage to pin all of them on me, he also framed me for his own death."

Sirius fell silent then, his gaze still fixed on the roof, his face carrying such an expression of hopelessness that the
very air seemed to chill under it, his eyes withering under the freezing rains of Mnemosyne.

Fleur looked at me with her charming wide eyes, coaxing, confused, worried. When had I learned to read those
swirling eyes so well?

I averted my eyes as Buckbeak cried, his beak nuzzling Sirius on his side and bringing him back to the present, afraid
of what else would I be able to read there, of what she would read in mine. I squeezed her hand, nevertheless, and
the delicate pressure that answered alleviated some of the pressure that came from darker places in my life, in my
heart.

I shut my eyes again, holding back a wave of emotion again, something that seemed to be happening way too much
today. Her hand squeezed tighter, and I opened my eyes again.

Despite the cold of the air, of the cave, of the past, her warmth reached me through the frigid space between us, even
as she shivered. I leaned closer to her hoping, maybe presumptuously, that my own warmth would be as comforting
to her as hers was to me.

" 'Arry... this-"

"I know what it sounds like, believe me, but it's all true," I answered her unspoken question, "I saw Pettigrew last year.
That's when I met Sirius. Turns out he had disguised as the pet of Ron's family for all of those years."

"The pet of... what?"

"He is an animagus, you pretty thing. We all were. James, Peter and me. That is how he managed to hide, and how I
managed to esc-" he shut his mouth. "Hmmm, maybe that one stays with me. Would not want them to fortify the
security now, do we." He winked, his face turning back into what I would have described as a dashing pirate. Dirty,
thin, a bit sickly, but charming and handsome.

Fleur chortled, a most peculiar sound coming from her, and promptly covered her mouth with a hand, her hilarity
being forced out through giggles. "So," she said, "That black dog, it was you?"

As if on command, Sirius' hair lengthened as he hunched over, and a couple seconds later, his most charming side
was on display, tail wagging and tongue lolling under perky, fluffy ears.

"Woof," he exclaimed smartly. This only renewed Fleur's giggling.

"At least that explains why you were so well behaved before," Fleur said, "I 'ad never met a dog that did not utterly
hate me before. I was glad that they don't allow dogs 'ere at 'Ogwarts. It became a problem for me at Beauxbatons
more than once."

With the same flurry as before, Sirius regained his roguish escapee appearance.

"I do have to say, miss, you have a strange... I don't even know if calling it smell is the right word, but there is
something about you that really peaks my nose when I am in my dog shape."

"Oh?" Fleur's expression was measured, and now it was my turn to snicker as Sirius tried to put his foot out of his
mouth.

"Yes, well, what I mean is something like- like- like cinnamon! It's lovely and all, but put your nose too close to it and it
will stop being pleasant."

"So you say that dogs don't like me because of my smell?"

"I-, What I meant is, it can hurt if it gets up your nose. I suppose the sensitive dog snout amplifies that, I certainly
cannot feel it otherwise, I mean, I can't speak for all dogs out there, my perspective changes very little when I change
shapes, so I don't know what a dog actually thinks, but it is a possibility."

Fleur could try and feign a serious expression, but that small tremble at the corner of her mouth always gave her
away.

She turned then to me, and her face lost a good part of the amusement that the small reprieve of Sirius'
demonstration and theories had brought. "So this was your secret, mon petit? You are 'arbouring a known criminal?"

"When you put it like that..." Sirius and I exchanged a glance, "But I prefer to say that I am looking over the last piece
of family I have left." I then tried to look at my godfather with the utmost disappointment I could muster, if only to make
him feel a small amount of the maelstrom of bullshite that I had felt in the last twenty minutes, "Or I am trying, at least,
since it seems like he enjoys taking unnecessary risks."

"I had to come!"

"You should be in the Caribbean, or something, Sirius, not here, sleeping in a damp cave and hoping no one
stumbles into it."

"How could I not come after I saw what had happened? This is not children's play Harry, make no mistake, this is not
an accident. Someone entered you into the tournament deliberately, and with some specific purpose, and we don't
know why. I will not be a stupid arse hothead again, I can promise you that, but I cannot in good consciousness be
sitting by a tree's shadow sipping daikyries while you are here with a Damocles sword over your head."

How in hells am I supposed to refute any of that. I looked at Fleur's hand on my knee and I could not help but realize
that in all the whirlwind I had forgotten, or at least ignored, some things. I sighed, my shoulders slumping under the
realization that despite all the good, the end was shaping up to be as messy as those of years before. The only
difference is that now my focus was split enough that I could not see the build-up.

"Look, Harry, I promise to be safe. I will just be close by if anything happens. Dumbledore knows I'm here, and
Remus comes by with food and clothes as much as he can. I just took a small risk as I saw you were almost alone. I
thought I could scare the pretty bird off and get you here."

"Professor Lupin is here too?" I perked up and then, under Sirius's eyes, I got a bit embarrassed. I had not realized
how much I had missed Lupin.

"What a strange thing to hear someone say 'professor Lupin', heh," he shook his head. "He has been around, but
after what happened last year, and the papers making a mess of it, he can show his face around here about as much
as me. Idiots, the lot of them. He's had to stay with me in this cave a couple of times, for they would not have him at
any inn. Not even Rosmerta!" he was starting to build himself up into a proper rage, and he realized it, so he took a
deep breath and closed his eyes. "Well, at least she was apologetic about it. Those that are not against him for one
reason or another are too scared of retribution by the Malfoys to think about taking him in.

Fleur, again, looked confused.

"It's a long story, Fleur. Lupin is my old Defence teacher, and last year there was a… situation," Sirius snorted, "in-
between all that, I learned that Sirius was my godfather and my friends rat a disguised murderer, and then had to do
some… bending of certain rules, to free Sirius." Buckbeak clicked his beak. "Oh! and Buckbeak too."

"A very contrite way to say that he saved my life," interjected Sirius, "You must have gotten that humbleness from
Lily. Gods know you did not get it from James. Make no mistake, little lady, were it not for Harry here I would be
worse than dead."

"I do not doubt that." I didn't even try to brave the look she had thrown my way, I merely smiled awkwardly and
mumbled something unintelligible even to myself.

"In any case, I am sure it's starting to get late for you two, so you should get going. What I wanted to say is be careful,
Harry, be mindful of the people around you and keep a clear mind. Don't make the same mistakes I did. And do not
worry about me, I'll be fine. This is a step up from Azkaban, and believe it or not Remus and Buckbeak are better
company than the one I had there."

I laughed as we stood up, clutching to each other a bit to compensate for numbed limbs. I stepped forwards and gave
a big hug to him again, fighting the conflictive feeling I had about having him here.

"Take care, Sirius."

"Yeah," He said as he let go, "you too, kid."

With as little thought as I could, I stepped back brushing against Fleur, my heart clenching at the sad smile on Sirius's
face.

"Miss Delacour," He called just as we turned to face the outward tunnel.

"Oui?"

"I am glad I met you."

His tone was strange, both heartfelt and teasing at the same time, and it's meaning escaped me. Fleur seemed to be
quicker than me this time though, for her face coloured lightly as she rose her chin and faced Sirius, her prideful
posture doing things to my composure, as it had started to happen for a while now.

"I am glad I met you too, Monsieur. I 'ope we see each other again."

And with a smile, we ascended.

Author's Note

Peeks over the corner to gauge the mood "Hello there, what's popping?" He says, hoping no one notices it's been like
five months.

I did not break the six months mark again, at least, and for that you have to thank the Flowerpot Server -an invite for it
can be found further on- in general, for being so supportive and praising my story so much that I could not help but
feel more confident in my story (Despite the mountain of mistakes that still await correction in the previous chapters.)
And the FFN author 'Charlennette' in particular, whose beautiful prose renewed my inspiration for my own writing, and
for whose birthday this chapter was churned out at what is -for me- top speed. A big shout out to her, go read her
stories, I can guarantee you'll like them if you like mine.

Likewise, all the recognition to Raphael the Older Nameless and Honorverse fan for their selfless efforts in making
this story as legible and good as it is. Beta readers are life. I can also highly recommend Honerversefan stories, for
even if they are quite different from mine, they are awesome. A lot of epic style prose and mythology bits thrown in.

Lets go over some reviews,

Marauders Apprentice I'm glad I managed to make a door for you into this ship. There are a lot of beautiful stories
out there.

themaestro1: can't say for sure how long this story will be, but A Court of Flowers is set in fourth year, so you can
extrapolate from what is already out. As I have said several times before, I don't really have a plan. I will continue the
story further away from year four, but that will likely be another book.

Daggerxxx: I understand your concerns, but teenagers are awkward, inexperience and bound to other people's
expectations way more than adults, so I do not think their lack of communication is strange. The tournament should
be taken seriously, after all. Nevertheless, this chapter likely has assuaged your concerns on the matter. They may
be terrible dancers, but they sure like to tip toe, eh?

ThR1992: Primero que nada, gracias por tus halagos. Me alegra que te agrade la personificacion que le he dado a
Fleur, aunque tengo que diferir contigo en el hecho de que no es arrogante, si lo es, al menos a mis ojos, pero hay
una diferencia entre la arrogancia que nace de la confianza en las abilidades propias y la arrogancia que nace de los
comentarios de sicofantes. Tal vez es esa la diferencia que vez, y que hacen una de una personalidad arrogante
algo mas agraciado.

Loveandpower: I think you read too much into that. I needed someone from the server to help me get that reference.

bdwilliams3: That is the highest praise you can give me, thank you.

PanderII: To be honest, I need to beta the whole thing lol. Thank you for you interactions, and I hope this chapter
proved to be better from a technical point of view.

Valirys Reinhald: I love you, my dude.

Come, join us at the Harry/Fleur Discord Server, I can guarantee you'll enjoy the experience. We have a lot of writers,
beta readers on hand for any writer that needs them, fan art spaces and the best collection of prompts I have seen for
the ship. Everyone is welcome, even if you don't feel like throwing in to write a story. It's a very active place, though,
and if you like, you can always interact there with me or many other of the authors that are active.

Invite to the Discord Server: discord . gg / k8ZxUjE

You know the Jazz, remove all the spaces. It's a permanent invite
*Chapter 17*: A Heart of Stone
Important Note!

I have reworked some of the scenes in the first seven chapters so as to make the story more coherent, and
rereading the whole thing may be conductive to a more enjoyable experience. If you do not want to, however,
the changes are not such that it would change the story. You can just read ahead.

Chapter 17

A Heart of Stone

Wide eyes gawked at me, shifting from one point to the other as if looking for the point of catastrophic failure I surely
had. Tight ringlets danced in dichotomous rhythm, guided by the sharp movements of her neck.

"You told her"

I shifted my feet, my own nerves reacting to Hermione's pale countenance.

"I- well, you *could* say that," I cleared my throat, "It was more like *he* told her."

"And you had nothing to do with it, I am sure." She huffed, "Harry, don't you see? She could go to absolutely anyone
with this. She should, if she has half a brain in that head of hers."

"Look-"

"Harry, Sirius could go back to Azkaban, and we could go right along with him, charted off for aid-"

"Don't presume I gave this no thought. I- Damnit, Hermione, I trust her."

She looked at me with that imperious manner she could get when a problem started to vex her.

"Why?"

"What?"

"You barely know her. She's a foreigner, and your competition to boot. How can you even entertain trusting her with
something like this?"

"I don't know, okay?" I blurted, my hands flying up, "I have asked this of myself time and again. I have doubted my
judgement, I have tried to reason it in that way you clamour about and saw how little sense it made." I gestured with
my hands to one side or the other, as if by the mere gesture I could give body to my doubts, and then I sighed and
reclined back into the cushion of the sofa. "But then... then she smiles at me from across the room and I wonder how
I could ever have doubted." I fixed my sight on the rolling fire on the hearth.

Hermione sighed and sat down beside me, her body flopping gracelessly enough to make the sofa sigh in tandem.

"Look, I get that you like her and all, but-"

"Hermione." I shifted so that we were face to face. "She never smiles. Before, I had only seen her smile in the privacy
of her room, looking at pictures of her family. Now, sometimes, she smiles at me."

My eyes bore into her own trying to make her understand something that I barely understood myself, trying to find in
her eyes a spark of understanding that validated my own, an understanding that I still not allowed myself to voice.

"I trust her."

"More than me?"

I avoided her eyes. "I honestly don't know."

Another huff, longer, but at the same time, less suffered. The old leather, on the other hand, let a suffered creak
under her as she reclined, eyes closed.

"You know, Harry?" She said as a single eye opened in my direction, "That big heart of yours is going to get us killed
one day." She put her hand on my shoulder, "But it has not led us astray yet. I trust you too."

She chuckled, "You have no idea how hard it is to be your friend."

"You don't say."

We both laughed, my body relaxing from a tenseness I had not noticed, leaving me tired.

"So," Hermione started, "Sirius is staying close, then."

"Hmmm," I muttered as my eyes roamed the corners of the common room, making sure we were truly alone, "And I'm
really not happy about it. With everything that's going on at the castle this year... And..."

"Yes?"

"Well, he is... not all there. I took little mind when I was there with him. I was that happy to see him, but I've been
thinking about it. Fleur noticed too."

"She did? How could she notice if she hardly knows him?"

"It's not hard to notice, that's how. His moods change at the turn of a word, he could be happy as can be and
suddenly go mute and... empty. And the stunt he pulled to get to me. I think he doesn't realize how dangerous it is for
him right now."

I shuffled my feet closer to the hearth, letting the warmth invade my feet.

"But you said that Professor Lupin was with him?" I nodded. "Well, at least he is not alone."

"From what little Sirius said, he is not much better off himself."

"Well, at least they have each other. Professor Lupin seemed to be a fair bit more coolheaded than Sirius. He's not
alone with his impulse control alone."

I grunted as a response, both of us falling silent, the crackle of the burning wood filling the ambience for us. It had
been a few days since my trip to Hogsmeade, but between Hermione's classes and my own activities it had been
nearly impossible for us to meet long enough -and privately enough- that I could fill her in.

To my surprise, she had not been as shocked at Sirius' sudden reappearance into my life as I had been, at least until
it became clear to her that Fleur had managed to catch up with me, however laboursomely. The corners of my lips
turned in a way that had by this point become a well-practiced motion, as I remembered her tousled hair and flushed
skin, the tangle of her overly long scarf around her arms like a giant fluffy snake.

I sighed, closing my eyes to avoid pinching the bridge of my nose as the sole response to the myriad of somethings
that I was avoiding thinking too much about. Mainly because I had no real idea where to begin working on them.

"At least you got the things we needed," Hermione stated, as if I was privy to the rest of the conversation that had
been going on in her head.

"Excuse me?"

"For the Task, you know. The gold and the stones. You said you had managed to find them."

"Oh, sure," my tone must not have convinced her, for an amused eyebrow mocked me from where it rose, "Mr
Aelfwine, the jeweler on main street that is, said that he could find them. It should be a couple more days before he
summons me for them."

"Hmmm. That should leave us enough time. We could manage to fit some testing, if all goes well."

"So, the twins got back to you about the statue?

"Yes, and the smiles on those two really did not make me feel comfortable with where they may procure it from."
"Sure. That is a very concerned smile I see."

"I am not smiling!"

"Well, now you are not."

"Oh, har, har, you." She said as she blindly swatted at me, her eyes going back to her book.

"They said they had one in mind that was big enough for what we needed and was most certainly not enchanted.
Yes, I know," she said as she pursed her lips, "But I think I trust them with knowing if something is enchanted or not.
Well, if that's not a worrying thought." She shook her head.

I snorted, "They sure have to be good at checking that with their line of work."

Her conflictive mix of a huff and a smile was answer enough.

It was quite relieving to be set, or almost, at least, with so much time in advance. Though I should not get so ahead of
myself, I thought; Mr Aelfwine had not gotten back to me yet, after all, and that part could very well end up not going
as well as I thought. I still had enough time while I waited for him and the twins to try and find a plan B in case the
golem ended up not working. Or being useless, as the original spell I had researched ended up being.

If only all problems were so easily solved. I sighed as my mind went back to the empty eyes on the overly warm smile
of my godfather. He was a constant in my mind now, even more so than before, and his face a source of contrasting
feelings that I did not know how to deal with.

And speaking of feelings I did not know how to deal with...

I sighed again as different eyes filled my mind. These ones empty in their own way atop a smile that was as cold as
Sirius' was warm. Unfocused. And then they shifted minutely, enough that I knew they had just caught me staring,
and then I could see through those marble eyes.

A smile that hummed with the heat of flowing magic accompanying her softening gaze.

I sighed again, and I knew this sigh had sounded entirely different, for Hermione turned to me with curiosity in her
face. I waved her off and she got back into her book. There was not much I could speak to her about in regards to this
particular issue.

She clearly did not like Fleur, nor did she approve of my 'mingling,' so her disposition on the matter was bound to not
be very useful on the matter, even if she had some useful word to say, something I doubted, as she is even worse at
this than I am. Well, I thought as I remembered, she did go to the ball with Krum, and if she did not talk about it, at
least I haven't heard her complain either, and for Hermione, that meant that at least something had gone right.

I looked out the window, the slow but steady snowfall that had been falling for a few days now being a welcome
distraction to the maelstrom of my emotions. Who would have thought that thinking about people could be so taxing?
It was ridiculous, really.

A blur passed through the air, like a drop of blood flying, noticeable only because of its contrasting redness and its
peculiar horizontal movement as compared to the mostly downwards falling snow. I kept watching for a couple
minutes more, the intrusive boldness of the red becoming a periodic reward for my watchfulness to my distraction
starved brain.

It took me longer than I cared to admit to engage my brain long enough to remember that the quidditch pitch was
viewable from that window and that the gravity-defying blobs were likely broom riders.

The brilliant red was a dead giveaway.

Just to check, I surreptitiously leaned closer, lifting myself a tad using the sofa's arm so that I could get a better view.
There were three drops of bloody red swirling and twirling around each other against the white backdrop.

The Flying Vixens.

It really was an entertaining and oddly beautiful spectacle. They drew many patterns that seemed random as they
synced to each other, but each move had a purpose. They never flew otherwise. A shared mind as soon as they
touched the brooms.
As much as they liked to make fun about the Weasley twins, they shared a connection between them as strong as the
twins'. It was even more impressive as they had no reasons for their bond besides camaraderie.

Watching them was soothing. Like music in the background, or writing a letter, where the familiar moves and the
repetitive sound would lull you into a state of half awareness where you existed somewhere away from your body, but
not less aware of yourself. A state that was very conductive to let minds wander, which brought me back to my past
conundrum. Fleur.

I love her.

There's no two ways about it, no things I can say to myself anymore to twist it or make it be otherwise. To be fair to
myself, I really had not been sure before. I had never been in love before, after all, and after my home life even
Hermione's sometimes excessive care, or Ron's familiar friendliness could feel overwhelming. And I do love them, but
the difference between them and her is nothing if not apparent.

I saw it as if without spectacles, though, as I could not really put to words what such difference was. Besides the
obvious, of course, I thought as memories that had no right being so sharp brought sinuous lines to my mind and a
warm flush to my neck.

I did know that every time that soft, barely there smile crossed my mind my knees went weak. And that's without even
mentioning the small accompanying crease of her brow.

I shook my head, trying to bring my derailed train of thought into some sort of order.

It felt as if that was a monumental realization, but at the same time an obvious one, and in some ways, an empty one.
Yes, you love the bird, congratulations you absolute dunderhead, you only were oblivious for I don't even know how
many weeks. What are you even going to do about it?

And therein lay the issue. What are you going to do about it, Potter, you terrible fool?

The very idea of doing something, anything, brought a feeling to my stomach that was similar enough to the one Fleur
herself brought, but with a healthy dose of dread added to it. Should I tell her? Dread. Should I slowly try and make
her realize it without telling her? Dread and a thumping on the sides of my head. Should I do nothing? The very idea
made me feel cold.

I suppose that doing nothing is so very much not like me, that it was the most terrible of those ideas, even if not by
much. One thing was clear. I was out of my depth, and as much as It embarrassed me, I would have to talk to my
wing woman.

Ugh. I could already picture her smug face looking at me from a floating height just enough that she would make me
look up her nose. Even what she'd say.

'You finally ready to pull your big boy pants on, then?'

The smug face that peered from a foot up, forcing me to look up was almost exactly how I had imagined it.

"Have fun, you crazy kids!" Shouted Angelina from the edge of the pitch, before she and Alicia disappeared from view
behind the stand wall that hid the door to the changing rooms, giggles that did not fail to make me uncomfortable
barely reaching me over the breathing of the snowy air.

Katie's smug façade wavered in the face of her friends' titters too, and she shook her head slightly, dislodging snow
that had gotten caught on her frizzing and disheveled blonde curls.

"What was that about?" I asked

"Ignore them, they are being dense. And sisterly, I suppose." She rolled her eyes. "What made you come here with
this beautiful weather we have today then, Harry?"

"Can't I just come chat with a friend?"

"Not unless they are right," She cocked her head towards where the two other girls had disappeared from sight, "And
I know they aren't." She let herself fall from the broom, landing with a soft crunch and laughed childishly at the splatter
of snow. "Whatever it is, we can talk under the stands. Come on, we'll freeze here."
"You did not think of that before going for a flight?"

"I'll have you know I was conscripted for this. Angie is worried we'll get soft, what with quidditch cancelled for the year.
You know how it is while you are up there though."

"Oh, yes." I closed my eyes and breathed in the cold air. Flying would make you forget even the most extraneous
discomfort in the joy of it. Except maybe dragons.

Our footsteps crunched until we reached the secluded and noticeably warmer confines under the stadium steps. Katie
leaned against the wooden under-structure and looked at me, her highly self-satisfied expression returning.

A cocked-up eyebrow was her only question.

"You could try to look more supportive; you know?"

She cackled. "Where is the fun in that, Harry? Come on, spill those juice beans."

"There is nothing to spill." Her lips tightened into a smirk. "Nothing that you already don't know."

"Hah! And here I thought something had happened at the Ball."

"What?"

"Oh, I saw you two love birds leave. I did not see you come back." She wagged her brows, and I groaned, already
regretting seeking her council. My lips tugged into a smile despite my discomfort.

"Nothing happened, you gutter headed girl."

"But you wanted something to happen."

"Yeah that is not-"

"Like I did not see you staring. I saw that open back dress too, Harry."

"I d-"

"And then the cheek-to-cheek dancing." She sighed, "So romantic. If any of you could dance that is."

"I love her, okay?" I blurted, stumbling at the unfamiliarity of such a declamation, in hopes that saying it out loud
would dispel some of the oppressive and nervous energy that had claimed ownership over me.

She froze, her mouth in a small 'o', and both her eyebrows high now. It made me feel a sense of victory, even as I
knew my face was flushed in a very undignified way.

She started laughing again, the force of her mirth felling her, and she continued to laugh, sitting on the damp grass
where she fell, her back against a wooden post. I huffed and let myself fall in front of her, arms crossed, annoyed now
at her continued mocking. Did she not take me seriously? Or did she think that the very idea was laughable?

"Oh, come on, you broody, you," she said as she brushed her eyes, "Turn that frown up."

"Then stop laughing at me!"

"I'm not laughing at you, you goob," she threw her hands up. "It's just... you don't do things by halves, do you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Look, if anyone else had told me this I would have scoffed and told them to examine their feelings and see if that
was coming from their heart or from... Well, you get the idea." She winked, and I felt my ears grow warmer still. "But
you..." She shook her head, "What a lucky woman that French bird is."

She sighed, and let her gaze linger at an undefined point above my head.

Just as I was going to cough awkwardly to get her attention, she shook her head and focused back on me.

"So? What are you planning?"

"Planning?" I said alarmed, "What do you mean planning? I barely figured this out."

"Planning to tell her, of course! Honestly, you are just being intentionally dense now."

"Tell her? What in heavens for? What will that accomplish? Even if I-"

"Harry, you complete idiot." She sighed

"Well excuse me I am-"

"Being an idiot! Have you seen how that girl looks at you? Did you see how she looked at me because I danced with
you? I swear I could even feel heat from her eyes when I made eyes at you in the great hall the other day."

"I know." I gritted my teeth, "Even then, I'm stumped. What am I supposed to do?"

"I cannot tell you that. I don't know her, I don't know what she seeks, I don't know what she lacks or what she wants.
Except for one thing." She said, her face turning a lot more caring than I was accustomed to seeing from her.

I sighed and looked at my fiddling fingers. I knew deep down that she was right, but I was also afraid, I was
unfocused, I could not charge this problem straight ahead. I was out of my depth.

"Look," she said, "I know I may not be the best person to give any kind of romantic advice; God knows I was
absolutely confused about it all last year, but I can tell you one thing." She crawled closer and poked at me with a
finger as if to punctuate each word. "Put. Yourself. Out. There."

"But... What If I fail?"

"You won't fail. I cannot guarantee you this will give you a happy ending, it may go sideways, you may get hurt, and if
you do it *will* hurt, but at least you'll know. You go ahead, you fly and you try, you take your shot. If you don't make
it, if you misread something, if you chose the wrong time, then you keep flying. It's not the end. The keeper will not
hate you for shooting at him, as long as you don't kick the quaffle to his face."

"What does that even-"

"Tell her! For god's sake tell her what you told me! Just don't go overboard with it and don't insist if she feels
differently."

We looked at each other, only the slight sound of snow falling between us. It was but a few seconds before we burst
out in guffaws, and a while more before any of us could speak again, and even then, our voice remained tainted by
the mirth and lightness our friendship afforded us.

"So," I said, trying to turn the conversation away from Fleur and me -and my stomach did a pirouette when I thought
that- for a moment, "You said you were so very confused last year?"

Katie straightened, her eyes suddenly alert and fixed on mine. She seemed to deliver on something for a moment
before she got up and walked towards the entrance we had come through, looking outside from side to side.

She looked back at me and sighed, going back to sit in front of me. She leaned forwards inspecting my face seriously,
her golden-brown eyebrows scrunched in concentration. It was a few more moments before she nodded, a gesture
meant to reassure herself, and sighed loudly.

"I told Angie that I was head over heels for her last year."

Funnily enough, I thought as she looked at me anxiously, The first thing I thought of was that they'd make an
adorable couple. Then of course I remembered they were both girls, and proceeded to sputter, my flush triggering
Katie's.

Her eyes shifted to her crossed feet, her windblown, unruly tresses falling as a temperamental curtain over the façade
of her feelings. A pang of guilt stabbed me then. I did not intend to hurt her, after all, but I think that my surprise was
understandable.

"What did she say?"

Her eyes jumped back to mine, vulnerable and, I am quite sure, as wide as mine. I knew that no words would be as
effective as just letting her read over the open book that was my face would, and so I stayed like that looking into her
expressive brown eyes until they crinkled at the corners and she devolved into giggles.

"She said she was very flattered, and she loved me too, but she could not love me in the same way I did."

"Oh."

"Yeah." She shrugged, "I knew it was a possibility. Well, no, I lie. I understood later that it was the most possible
scenario. It really hurt at the moment though. I did not stop to think that she could be different to me, and she had
always been so good, so attentive to me that I thought..." She shrugged, her eyes fixed in some random place next to
me, unfocused and seeing something only she could see, "It was my fault, really. To go so wide eyed and hopeful."

"And you tell me that I should do the same?" I could not help the slight tone of horror that entered my voice at the
very prospect. Teardrop-filled eyes of the darkest and most terrible hue flashed in my memory, the most betrayed of
looks cutting like the sharpest of blades.

She looked at me and smirked. "Hey, at least chance is on your side. I told you, you may be blind, but I am not.
Besides, you see how Angelina is around me. Nothing changed. She accepted what I felt and what I was, she loved
me and did not stop doing so. I took what she could give, gave her what she would take," She shrugged again. "In the
end, it was neither her fault nor mine that we were... built differently, and if someone can't see that then they are not
worth the effort and they'd have left you hanging at one point or another."

We sat in a strangely companionable silence, my thoughts shifting quickly between several imagined outcomes, as
hers surely were. The prospect of it did not seem quite so daunting anymore, even if I still did not know what would
change in what we were. I would figure it out as it came, I decided in the end.

One thing I was sure of though, Katie had made me see that; Fleur would not hurt me were she to feel different to me.
The very thought gave me a feeling of freedom that was disconcerting, and one of shame at the same time. Turns out
doubting someone that did not deserve it was not such a nice feeling to experience, and the flash of kaleidoscopic
eyes in my mind made the conflictive feelings stronger.

"I see you've made up your mind."

"How can you tell?"

"You get this look in your face... I have seen it often enough on the pitch. It's quite characteristic."

I could not help but laugh. It was incredible I could have held the team as far away as I did for four years.

"Thank you, Katie. Really."

"So you know what to do now?"

"No. No, I don't. But I feel better about it."

The soft huff of the winter's breath made the perfect background for the complicit laugh of two old teammates meeting
each other again.

I looked dubiously at the malformed lump of granite that seemed to be piled over more than standing in the middle of
the abandoned classroom.

I looked at Ron who lifted his chin proudly and then at Hermione, who rolled her eyes.

"Is that... weren't the twins supposed to get a statue?"

"They did, but it was too small and we had to add a bit more granite from a column and then Ronald here though it
looked too feminine and could stand to look a bit more 'bad'. Suffice to say he is no artist. Neither am I to be honest,
so I refrained from trying to fix it."

A head that could be called round if you were generous, or had severe eyesight problems, both things I could claim to
be, stood atop arched, misshapen shoulders that looked, at least, strong as a bull's. The shoulders lead to the rest of
it's bulky and asymmetrical shape, mounds of whitish rock mimicking a very rough human shape. It was...
"So," Ron said, "what do you think?"

"I think you should keep your grades up. Art is not going to be it for you."

"Well," he started cheerfully, "I hope you are better at it than me, as you are going to have to carve all the weird
symbols."

I looked at Hermione and she nodded, an apologetic smile on her face. "None of us are nearly as talented as we
would have to be to not taint the conduit with our magic, and we can't risk it having bonding issues."

I sighed, looking at the frankly ugly thing. At least it looked sturdy.

"Did you get the rest of the materials?"

I nodded. Luckily Mrs Weasley had been able to order the money sent to Aelfwine with my signed permission, and so
I had not needed to sneak out of the castle grounds.

To be honest though, I had been looking forward to the experience.

I put the small leather bag on the table, Hermione immediately going to examine the contents, humming to herself
and turning the rough-looking gems to one side and the other.

We better get to work then.

It was long, it was grueling and I gained a newfound respect for sculptors. Even with magic, carving the strong marble
was difficult. I had a suspicion that it had something to do with what we were doing to it too though.

The spell I used to cut the stone pushed against it, struggling as if the stone were fighting back, each scrape and
crack akin to a scream, the depression blackening as if by soot.

At one point the shoddy craftsmanship reared its head and the arm of the thing cracked bad enough to lose a hand. A
first, I suppose, but still. The jagged spike that was left in its place looked as useful as it looked vicious though, so I
left it. Made us have to rework a part of the inlaying, however.

At some point Hermione and Ron joined me, starting from where I had already carved through, inserting the fine line
of golden wire on the cuts, using a small hammer to fit it. In some of the places, one of the stones was added,
delicate hits fixing it in place with care not to break it.

By the end, I was tired, hungry, and dirty. My arms were blackened and dirty up to the elbows. It looked as if I was
mining the damn stones, not cutting marble.

My friends looked down at me from where I sat on the floor, their faces unfairly chirpy. Ron held a couple of stones in
his hands. One green, the other onyx.

I let a suffered breath out and swept the things from his hands.

"This better be the last part. I'm absolutely knackered."

"Sure," Ron said. "Well, this and the blood letting."

I let myself fall onto my back, an explosive sigh coming out of my lips. "I had forgotten about that."

"I wish I had too, mate. I really do."

I got up, the stones in my hands, and looked at the tragically misshapen face of the construct. I raised my hand, and
with light pressure, set them in the eye sockets, one clearly higher than the other.

The absolute lack of response was very anticlimactic.

Hermione giggled at my expression and handed me a piece of paper with the last piece of the whole process. It was
simple, really. Just a single spell cast on the palm of my own hand, and then set the hand on the crown of the thing.

Easy as pie.
The cut stung, but I was expecting that, and it was not a new experience for me. As I rested my hand on the cold
stone though, I remembered why I had learned not to take such easy results for granted.

The mere line of blood that dripped from the shallow cut turned into a flood as my skin stuck as if frozen to the statue,
rivers of burning cold flowing inside my arm and into the stone. I was starting to lose feeling, not even the lancing pain
of before managing to updo the numbness.

I fell to my knees, my hand still atop the golem as if blessing it. Hermione was not giggling anymore, but the sounds
she was making were nearly as hysterical. Someone pulled at my torso, but the connection would not break.

I did not feel anymore, my vision closed, and for a moment I ceased to exist. Nothing but a shimmering spark of
remembrance of what was left of my world.

My consciousness returned, like a hit with a bat, and I was falling backwards.

Something landed on top of me, someone, and I tried to roll out from under them. Every sensation was overcharged,
the feel of stone against my skin grating, of fabric, chafing, of a warm person, burning.

Lights blinded me, even more than my usual addled sight, everything blurred, sounds indiscernible, mumblings of a
shattered and disjointed world. I stumbled, rolled, I kicked and when the burning in my throat became apparent I
realised I had been screaming.

I stopped that. I also stopped moving.

Slowly, everything started to coalesce into something familiar. Rough hands pushed my glasses on and I could
distinguish the face of my friend where before it was a blur of reds.

"Are you okay, Harry?" He asked. "Mate, listen, look at me." He added when I did not answer.

"I'm-" I coughed, "I'm fine. I'm okay." I laid on my back for the second time in what felt like a lifetime. "I'm really tired."
My lids started to close, and when they did my vision shifted, I was not seeing the roof that had been in front of me
before, I was seeing Hermione's tearstained face, her hands trembling before her mouth as she stood a few feet
away from my prostate body.

"Don't let him fall asleep!" She shrieked, her hand reaching forwards just as Ron's own went to my shoulder and
shook me roughly.

My eyes opened again, and I was seeing the roof again, a pair of concerned faces in front of it. I was exhausted
enough that I could do nothing more than whisper. "It worked." I reached to touch Hermione's cheek in reassurance.

I closed my eyes and saw a lumpy arm of marble rise in front of my face. I opened again and this time, it was to
darkness.

It was the chirp of a great tit that woke me.

I had been listening for a few minutes now, and I was absolutely sure. It was hard to forget the sound of the
aggressive shites as they absolutely bullied every other bird that got near their crumbles. Almost as hard as forgetting
the respective faces of my friends as Hagrid told them the name of the green and yellow bird.

I could easily smell where I was too.

No other place in the castle smelled clean to the point of unnaturalness, with a sprinkle of vaporous, violently
disgusting fumes. No other place had stiffer mattresses and softer pillows. No other part of the castle was bright
enough to almost make the back of my eyelids look white instead of the dark that I was almost glad to see.

I was, if I was to be honest, a tad scared to open my eyes.

For now, I could feel that they were closed, and I could see nothing but darkness and the usual shimmering
explosions of muted colour. No weird disembodied images. At least for now. But what would I see when I opened my
eyes?

"At least I can hear that tit loud and clear," I muttered, relieved at how normal my voice sounded.
"I'm glad to see you are 'aving some entertaining dreams at the very least."

My worry evaporated in the face of an urgency that was as scary in it's own way.

The first thing I saw was a blurry shape of shimmering white gold that I did not need my glasses to give a name to.
Before my parted lips managed any words of assistance, soft hands placed my glasses in its place with delicate,
measured motions. Her fingers did not touch me at all, the spectacles did not chafe or poked.

And then she pushed my hair to the side, getting it out of my sight.

Her face was such a mixture of worry and happiness, relief and annoyance, that I did not know which emotion to trust.

"I meant the bird. It's called a great tit. It's green and black and it's kind of a dick."

Her face decided in that moment for mirth, and the music of her laughter drowned the songs of any bird outside.

"I'm glad you are so versed in ornithologie, mon petite chou. 'Ow are you feeling."

I straightened on the bed, sitting against the headboard. "Like I haven't slept in a month." I yawned. "And hungry as a
wolf." The addendum was unnecessary, as my stomach made its own proclamation.

Her gaze turned worried again. "Le infirmière said you lost a lot of blood." She trailed off, her cool blue eyes shifting to
my arm. And what a shock I got when I looked at it. It looked… dead.

It was black up to the elbow, darker at the fingers and lighter as it went from there. I closed my fist and the skin
pulled, leathery. It felt as if it had been burned. With a trembling right hand I poked it with the tip of a healthy finger.

That was definitely tanned leather.

At least, And that gave me hope, the feeling of it was not muted at all. It was oversensitive, if anything.

"Quit the dramatic looks and stop poking it. It will get better, Mr Potter."

Fleur and I jumped, not having realized that Poppy had gotten near at all. With the business-like manner I had come
to expect from her she grabbed my blackened hand and pulled, lifting my arm from it's rest.

Her wand poked and swerved all around it, her eyes unfocussed. Or focused on something that I could not see, more
likely. I looked at Fleur, and she was staring at Poppy with the same amount of concentration, that adorable furrow of
her forehead playing the main character on the play of her facade.

"I have no idea what you have been doing, Mr Potter, nor do I expect a straight answer from you, but for the love of
all that is sacred to you, be more careful. This is curse damage, no doubt about it, but I cannot pinpoint which one. If
you were not so alive and well I would guess a withering curse, but you are not a desiccated mummy right now, so
no. And the arm seems to be recovering at a fast rate of any damage." She sighed and pinched her nose. "I
understand you may be pulling at straws for this tournament, but please try not to kill yourself trying not to die?"

"At least you are always here to patch me up." I tried.

"Despite what you may think, I am not omnipotent, Harry, nor is magic, for that matter. Get some more rest, let the
blood replenisher do its work-"

"What blood replenisher?"

"You drank it while unconscious, 'Arry. You are a lot less difficult about it like that, or so the matron says."

The conspiratory look they exchanged was, in my opinion, absolutely unfair. But their smiles at my pout were worth it.

"You should be out by tomorrow morning, if your progress keeps as it is during the night."

"Tomorrow?"

"I'm letting you off early, mister, so no complaining. And that only because Professor McGonagall said she knew what
you were messing with and nothing should be problematic with your recovery."

I nodded, surprised that someone had managed to bend the steel of Poppy's determined mind. But, really, I was
mostly exhausted.

"I'll let the kitchens know to procure some food for you," She looked at Fleur out the corner of her eye, Fleur stiffening
in response. She sighed in an almost imperceptible way. "Mister Potter, Miss Delacour," she nodded to us both
before leaving in the direction of her office and living quarters.

"You should listen to 'er, you know?"

"She worries too much."

Her hand fell on mine, and our eyes locked. "She's not the only one."

I averted my eyes, but I can say I was very glad her hand stayed where it was. "I'm sorry. I- Well, I did not expect it to
go down quite like this."

"What were you even doing? You were unconscious for a whole afternoon. That is not a mere fainting spell." Her
voice was subdued, and that more than anything else made me feel guilty.

"It was for my solution for the second task. I don't think we should…" I trailed off, thinking about how stupid such a
barrier was after all she already knew.

Her eyes shifted, her expression doing the same, and then, after some silent deliberation, she nodded, her hand
squeezing mine.

"Will you 'ave to do it again?"

I shook my head. "I don't think so. It was a one time thing. I would just have to... activate it, for the task. It would not
be a bad idea to get some practice before though."

"Just-" she stopped for a second, huffing and frowning as she sought the words. "Just make sure you are not alone
while you do so."

I smiled at her worried face, something that she did not seem to appreciate, even if her own smile tried to come in
response to mine.

"I will, I promise. How did you even know something had happened? You said I had been here for a few hours only."

She shrugged, this time being the one to avoid my gaze.

"It's not like you to not be in L'ermitage before breakfast is out. And then I could not find you at the Great 'All.. Not you
or any of your friends."

"Oh."

"Oui. Oh. I asked around and no one knew anything. I thought maybe 'ere was a safe bet."

"And you hit it on the head."

She looked at me, her eyes telling me that she would really like to hit me in the head. "Unfortunately."

She opened her mouth to further speak, and then closed it, her posture straightening and her head turning to the door
of the ward.

After a few seconds I could hear the distant steps that had caught her attention. Nervous and fast, almost jogging.

"Good ear," I told her, already recognizing Hermione's gait. She smiled, the sweetness of her face emphasized by her
downturned eyebrows and crinkly eyes.

"I guess I'll see you… later." She said just as the door banged open and the incredibly bullicious voices of two worried
teens drowned any other sound. I could hear the blabbering questions and intermixed apologies of my friends, but I
could not distinguish what they said. Not when my attention was captured by the retreating figure that crossed them
on their approaching path.

She reached the door and turned back, a small smile bestowing life upon me before she banished past the threshold
and I was invaded by the cotidianity of fraternal love. Not that it was less warm because of its mundaness.
I could not stop thinking about that smile, however, and even though I knew she had not meant her goodbye in such a
way, I could not stop the hope of that door surreptitiously opening again during the night to welcome moonlight given
form.

The testing went perfectly well.

At first I did not want to touch the thing with a ten foot pole, nor with an eleven inch wand, as it was, but fortunately
the adverse existential crisis effects were only a part of the initial bonding. The feeling of severe vertigo and the
unnaturalness of seeing my own body inmovile as I moved was still quite disturbing though.

The golem was slow, clumsy and pretty much useless for anything that did not involve walking, hammering something
or carrying stuff. At least stuff that did not need holding too finely. It was, on the other hand, stupidly strong.

The best of all though? It was unfeeling. No amount of cold or hits or heat would make it through the connection. I
was not going to have to go to the infirmary after this one, and the very prospect was something I was looking forward
to.

I inhaled the cold air and smiled, my eyes closed, as the cold air invigorated me. I was feeling quite confident of the
outcome, for once.

"Well, someone looks cocky," said Cedric from beside me. "What do you have under that curtain? Professor
MacGonagall?" He laughed loudly at his own terrible, terrible, joke.

"Aw, come on. They can't all be bangers," he said as he noticed my expression.

"You'll see," I answered. "It is not McGonagall though. Unless that woman behind Professor Dumbledore is some sort
of polyjuiced imposter."

"Where did you even hear about that potion?" He asked suspiciously.

"Here and there, you know."

He laughed loudly and openly again. "That's golden. Wait until I tell Cho she was right."

"Do I wanna know?"

He waved me off, "Just doing my part for the rumour mill of Hogwarts, don't worry."

"Oh, wow. Thank you kindly, Ced," I drawled, to his amusement.

"Champions!" Came the loud call from everywhere that was particular to the sonorus charm, The voice of Ludo
Bagman once again calling the task to a start and the public to attention.

I looked at the other champions, at Krum that was already wearing swimming shorts and his wand in his hand, at
Cedric, who wore a charming smile and a bathing robe that suit him almost as much, and then, on the other end of
the line we had formed by coincidence, Fleur Delacour. I had been actively avoiding looking her way, knowing it
would do no good, and seeing her bundled in a heavy, black robe, and a heavier scarf, her tight bun of hair and her
slanted, angry eyes the only parts of her visible, I could only laugh.

I had spent so much time worrying about my reactions to her, that I forgot to remember she was just Fleur.

Her eyes narrowed further and I rose my hands up in deference.

"Welcome all to the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament!" Bagman called, his voice going through motions I
had heard of other sports announcers, the crowd responding as any other stadium ever. With rousing applause.

"This time, our daring champions," my snort was inaudible over the noise, "will face the unknown once again. We
tested their mettle before, now we test their cleverness. They were given a clue that would allow them to prepare, and
now they will use that preparation to rescue a hostage from the bottom of the lake. Someone very dear to them has
been taken, and now it is up to them to get to the hostage and back in less than an hour or face the consequences."

A cloud of unease invaded my confidence for a moment. I didn't even know who it was that was waiting for me in
those murky depths. The others felt similarly, if their stiffening postures were anything to go by.
"You, my beloved public, will not miss a single turn or twist of the action, however."

In that moment four enormous masses rose from the lake, the surface exploding into motion. As they reduced their
speed I could see that they were giant, oval mirrors, all of them hovering over the lake and facing the stands,
reflecting the unruly, colourful scenario.

"These four mirrors will scry every move of each champion, so that you all will be able to enjoy the show, and of
course our illustrious judges will be able to do their job without interference or inferences." It took nothing but for his
words to end for the mirrors to shimmer and waver until they showed a front plane of all our faces, one in each mirror.

I hurried to straighten my crooked spectacles, and the stands cheered, jeered, and giggled, all at the same time.
Fleur's eyes looked like another stormy cloud as they floated in the sky, magnified.

"At the sound of the cannon, the time will start. Let the best of you shine, and let the best amongst you come out on
top. Good luck, Champions, you will need it."

The stands roared, and they roared even louder as Cedric and Fleur lost their robes. Turns out, my worry about my
reaction to Fleur was not so far off, yet the issue was not what I had managed to cook up in my mind.

I turned to the judges' tables, and I could see the face of Dumbledore, beatific to the point of almost being a painting,
looking at me. I smirked. If I was to be safe this time at least I could add a bit of flair.

The cannon blasted with enough force to shake my vision, and the platform exploded into motion. I barely saw what
the others were doing, only that they were all waving their wands in long and complex patterns, utterly focused on
their craft.

I tried that 'art imitates life' thing, and let myself fall on my arse as I waved my wand in a dramatic arch. An elaborate
chair of a starry upholster caught my fall. I breathed easy, glad it had worked. I reached over and pulled the curtain
that hid my ugly child. I saw in the mirror that it was still the one in focus. If they were locked into me and not the
golem this was going to be very boring for all the others.

I could not gather any reactions over the chaotic noise, nor was I paying too much attention to such a thing anymore.
I may want to show off, but this required my utmost focus.

A line of alien English, a feeling of cold and dizziness, a blink.

I could see myself sitting on the overdone chair, relaxed. Relaxed and absent. I turned my stone head to the edge of
the platform and saw that Fleur and Cedric had already left, and Krum was wittering on the floor, his skin shifting like
hot wax. I looked up and saw a malformed, white face, unaligned eyes staring sightlessly at itself.

The scrying had followed my essence. Interesting.

I put it out of my mind, and with three thumping steps I let myself fall over the edge. The grainy, black and white vision
that the golem afforded from within the dark waters was interesting, to say the least. The pool from the prefects baths
had not afforded such intensive testing, and so I was happy it had worked out as expected.

It was likely that the hostages would be in the deeper part of the lake, at least if they were held by mermen as I had
assumed, and that if the book on aquatic magical creatures was not wrong about their habits, so with a glance
around, I took steps in the direction that the floor seemed steeper.

The muffled thump of the golems steps was the only thing that gave me any sense of time passing, the lake barely
changing as I moved forwards. I had no idea how much time I had left, and I was starting to feel impatient with the
slow jog the golem was capable of.

I was deep enough now that I could not see the light from above. Some fish passed around me every once in a while,
attracted to the slight shine of the stones that powered the construct. Some ugly little creatures flew off a bush of
algae as I walked through it and turned to attack me in retaliation, wicked talons poised to maim.

Unlucky for them, marble would not concede to the overlong nails of aquatic animals, and after some broken claws
and pained gurgles, the strangely humanoid little demons dispersed.

I had not even stopped advancing during all of this.

My vision, even with the enchantments of the golem, was severely limited in scope, and everything outside a 10
meter radius was invisible, so it was with surprise that a tall cylindrical structure rose from the floor, different plants
and algae growing out the furrows that circled it. Circular openings peppered the surface as if windows but no light
came from them.

I saw markings on the borders around the openings that looked like letters of some strange alphabet, and I knew that
I was on what was likely the outskirts of the merpeople's town. So guess what I did? Kept on walking at the awkward
pace that I had before.

What a blast of a show for the public, I thought wryly.

There was no road, however, so I could only hope that I was not getting farther away. The ground had been level for
a while now, and so it did not give me any clues either. My anxieties were laid to rest by another squarish building
some 20 meters ahead of the last. This one had an extensive amount of bright red algae growing on the sand behind
it, giving the impression of a farm of some sort. From there on out more and more buildings started to pop into view,
until there was always one in sight.

They looked more grown than built though.

From one of the buildings, a head that could have been that of a drowned teen poked from one of the circular
openings. Big pale grey eyes on a face sharp to the point of being bony, skin that looked like wet paper, and frilly
plant like growings on the arms and head.

I was almost glad when an equally hued arm pulled him back inside by a necklace that had been floating around his
neck.

I was closing on the centre of town, it looked like, and more curious faces poked from their homes to see before
quickly scattering back inside. I could feel the vibrations of song on the water, and I assumed it was the same song
from the egg. The distribution of buildings was very strange too, but with a bit of thought I managed to get to what
could only be the centre plaza of the mer-town.

A huge statue of a heroic looking merman mocked me with his symmetry and artistry, it was surrounded by a ring of
mermen armed and armoured that looked as impressive on their own right as it, and at his feet- err, at his tail, floated
four figures tied from their feet to the statue. I could not distinguish the three figures to the left from where I was, but
the one that was to the right was clear, a slight halo-like shimmering surrounding her face.

For a fraction of a second I thought it was Fleur, but after my heart of stone skipped a non-existent beat I realized she
was too young. She must be Gabby, I thought as I remembered the pictures in Fleur's room. She looked older than
the almost toddler in the pictures though.

As I got closer, the even fainter lights of the small blue orbs that floated around the hostages allowed me to see the
others. Hermione, Cho and Katie.

Huh.

That's not even creative from the organizers. Though it would have almost been worth it just to see how Fleur reacted
to rescuing Roger. I would have laughed if I could. I looked around, but there was no sign of the other champions.
Where were they? The hour was surely almost gone.

Almost as if summoned by my thoughts, a torpedo-like figure propelled through the water, twisted as it turned, the
movement perfectly measured for a sharp teeth from the shark headed man severed the rope at the same time it
twisted around the huge maw. After a second of stillness the figure exploded into motion upwards and disappeared
from sight, the unconscious form of Hermione following in his wake as he pulled her by the rope.

I had to admit, that was pretty impressive. It looks like Krum is only ever a klutz while on land, but as soon as he is
allowed to move in three dimensions freely he becomes something else. I also had to admit that I had not thought
about the exit as well as the entrance. I would never reach the surface before anyone else if I had to walk back again.

I turned to look at the remaining hostages, deliberating on what to do.

I decided to take my chances walking back, as anything else would be too risky for her, and walked towards Katie. An
extremely delicate swipe with my pike like arm was enough to cut the rope that bound her. And make a deep gouge
on the statue. Oops.
With more effort than should be needed, I started to coil the rope around my arm, Katie making a terribly weird
impression of a balloon, until she was close enough to trap her between my chest and my arm. So securely tucked, I
started my walk back; Cedric swam into my field of view just then, a huge bubble encapsulating his head. He took a
knife from a leg holster and cut the rope before swimming up, not before giving me a smug wink.

I turned back. Fleur's sister was still there. I looked to the inky black of the path back and then again to the small girl.
Ugh. Sometimes I hated my brain, the traitor. There was no way I would get anywhere over third place now anyways.
I suppose I could wait a bit. Just in case. The armed mermen circling the statue were starting to throw ugly looks at
me.

The sound of a cannon reverberated through the whole lake. The time was done. The guards formed into a triangle,
moving at a ridiculous speed. The front line faced me and swam backwards, while the tip was pointing at Gabrielle.

Ah, fuck it.

I tucked Katie as much as I could, hiding her tiny body behind a shield of marble, and started to run. Which was not a
fast run at all, but I was not trying to catch the mermen, after all. They held the formation, spears lowered at my
hulking form.

I lifted a piked hand. They opened their mouths and screamed, a beautiful sound emerging from their faces twisted by
aggressiveness.

A step more, and then the hammer fell.

The tip of their spears broke against my stone skin, but not before carving grooves in it, one of the heads sticking into
my head, the piece of handle sticking on my cone of view like a unicorn horn.

The tip of my own pike hit the chest of one of them, the metal of the chest plate bending enough to break the straps
that held it, I ran through them, pummeled the statue so that the anchor point broke and catch the ball of stone linked
to the rope on the crook of my elbow before turning and running through the broken formation. I kept running, trying to
get her body down enough to tuck her with Katie.

The beautiful screams of the mermen told me they were not done with me, and the fast approaching massive
seahorse with an angry rider told me I was right. He reached my side and speared me, to the same effect as his
friends before, and then decided to try and have his mount bump into me. It made me stumble. I bumped him back. It
made him crash into the lake floor.

I kept running until I got to the first building I had seen, and then some more. The merpeople seemed to have stopped
at the outskirts and so the rest of the trek was peaceful, again only the alternative thump of stone on sand marking
the passing of time. I did not dare get the girls from under my arm, however, nor shake the sense of persecution for
the whole trek.

It took not but a few steps for my head, the head of the construct to break the surface of the water. I saw the platform
from where I had begun in the distance and cursed. There was no way I could climb that rope ladder. I would have to
give a round about it so that I-

Screaming from the platform interrupted me. It sounded strangely close compared to how far it was; I tried to see
what was happening but the angle I had only afforded me a hustle of coloured robes. Someone really had a good pair
of lungs, I thought as an almost animal screech blew in the air.

A silver and blue form managed to break free from the scrum and jumped into the lake, landing with a splash. It was
getting closer quite quickly.

It was Fleur's face that was the one to break the water amidst the heavy turbulence of flaying, desperate arms. Her
hair no longer floated around her beautiful face, but was plasterer by the water and muted by blood, her arms covered
in different sized cuts, her face only slightly less marred. The real wounds, though, were in her eyes.

"Gabrielle!" her shout came from the distance and from up close simultaneously, vibrating on my body. A small, pale
hand rose into view and I realized my charges had started to wake. I had not felt them move, and they were both
trying to slither from the vice grip of my borrowed arm.

"Bloody fucking hell!" screamed Katie when she saw my face. Gabrielle started to cry. I loosened my grip and they
both fell on the swallow water, Fleur jumped on top of them and brought her sister into her arms, her face furrowing
on Gabrielle's hair as her own stuck to the crook of her neck and both cried their hearts out.

Katie was looking at them, clearly feeling uncomfortable with the scene. She looked at my face and grimaced, her
hand going to her opposite elbow. She turned to look at the scrying mirrors, reminding me that they were there at all.

Two of them showed Krum and Cedric bundled in blankets on the judges platform, the other showed my face
surrounded by stars printed in fabric on one half, eyes closed, and the golem's face on the other half. The last one
showed something that was too private for the eyes of strangers.

I moved towards the sisters and made myself be in the way, the golem blocking the view of them. After that, I blinked.

My eyes opened to my own extended arm, my wand held straight. Or at least it did for a few seconds, as a wave of
dizziness hit me and I tumbled out of the chair, my wand clattering on the floor as my breakfast tumbled out of my
stomach.

I heaved until my back hurt, not really having any choice in the matter, and then crawled as far away from it as I could
and sat on the floor, my eyes closed, waiting for everything to stop spinning. The whole commotion was not helping at
all with my head.

"Are you alright, Mr Potter?"

"Dizzy." I mumbled, trying to put a name to the voice.

"Leave him be, Minnie. He is perfectly fine. I'm almost surprised." That one was impossible to mistake, however,

"Are you sure, Poppy?" MacGonnagal truly sounded anxious.

"Positive. Besides, wasn't it you that told me you knew what he was doing?"

"I did not expect him to go quite in that direction… But yes. Yes. I suppose he should be fine." She sighed

"What did he do, oh master transfigurer? I had never seen something of the like." I felt the reassuring and familiar
magic of Poppy checking me for any damage.

"He created an artificial, inorganic homunculus and proceeded to possess it." I could almost hear the tightening of
Mcgonagall's lips.

I had never heard the stalwart Poppy Pomfrey be at a loss for words ever before, but the sound of her silence was as
oppressive as the harsh noise from the stands.

"He did what?" She whispered.

"You two know I can hear you, right?" I blurted. I really didn't want to know what Poppy thought of my somewhat
unorthodox method. If I was honest with myself, I was scared to contemplate it. She had always been such a constant
figure in my life since joining this world that losing her support was…

"You are going to give me more white hairs than I already have, Mr. Potter. The only thing that gives me some peace
of mind is that Minerva knows what you are getting into."

I opened my eyes and saw a worried glance shared between them, a glance full of a meaning I could never discern in
its entirety. I don't think anyone could, but them. What little I got made me smile, and I let myself fall on my back, eyes
closing again.

'Keep him safe.'

Such a Poppy thing to say.

The noise of disarray and divided squabbling continued. Rising, even, if such a thing were even possible. So loud it
was that I barely missed the sounds of steps almost on my head. I think I had started to fall asleep, even with the
chaos around.

I was absolutely exhausted.

"I was promised a princess rescue, with sweeping off my feet and all, you arse."
"Sorry to disappoint, Catharina. Do feel free to lodge a complaint with the guild of… whatever. Brain hurts."

She giggled, her weight making the wood underneath me creak as she sat.

"I'm freezing." she shuddered.

I only hummed in response, still feeling too sick to do anything more.

"You made a nice impression, by the way, mister honourable and chivalrous." She whispered conspiratorially.

I opened my eyes again and quickly glanced at the judges, who were all holding their numbered scores up. I didn't
even try to discern them.

"Ugh. You could have died down there, or Fleur's baby sister, and they are there marking us as if nothing happened."

"Harry, dear, nothing happened. Nothing would have happened. Did you really think we would be, I don't know,
offered as human sacrifices or whatever after the hour was done?"

My silence made her sigh and murmur something unintelligible.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. I was just wondering if you took too much time polishing that armour, and how your princess would approve
of that practice. Builds nice muscle memory."

"What?"

"If you need to ask, you are too young to know." She singed smugly.

"Whatever." I grumbled.

"Zank you."

The new, shaky, accented beyond what I was used to hearing, intrusive and unexpected voice made me sit almost
instantly, and my eyes basked in the light of a shining moon for a fraction of a second before the wounds and the
even deeper pain registered.

It was uncannily disconcerting how Fleur's beauty did not diminish, no matter the circumstance, and so the
heartbreak I felt when her praise worthy visage met mine with such an open, vulnerable and hurt expression was
something that I could not compare to anything else I had experienced in my young life.

I was robbed of words, my brows danced purposelessly, my lips accompanying them, my eyes the only part of my
face that was still.

Her damp hair made her look sadder than anyone should be, and her stormy eyes merely showed the storm of her
own feelings.

With not a gesture of warning she threw herself at me, her arms holding me with a vice-like grip that surprised me for
its strength, her face buried out of sight in the crook of my neck.

I did not know what to do with myself for a moment, and then I just held her with the same strength. I could feel her
tremble, a few tears falling onto my skin. The embrace lasted barely longer than it would be appropriate, and then she
pulled back, her face composed and calm.

"Thank you, Monsieur. I will never be able to express my gratitude to you properly." She stepped back, still looking at
me, and when her face wavered from her collected facade, she turned back and lifted the small, curly haired girl
waiting behind her in her arms.

It may have been ridiculous, but at that very moment the only thing I could think was how was it possible for
Gabrielle's hair to look completely dry and wavy after being under a lake for more than an hour.

Another unintelligible grumble from Katie caught my attention, and with pain I took my eyes from Fleur to look at her,
a small, abashed smile on her lips as she shook her head, her own appropriately disarranged hair dancing with the
motion.
"What?" I asked again.

"Nothing, Harry. Nothing. Let's get dry, we'll catch our death out here."

I stood, my feet desperately asking me not too, my legs deciding to join in support of them instead of supporting me. I
fell to the side, but Katie's wiry, strong arms caught me.

I laughed as my head felt light. I could not even focus enough to think of anything problematic right now.

With the support of a friend, I walked towards the castle, trying without luck to parse over my last interaction with
Fleur, trying to make sense of Minerva and Poppie's worries, trying to focus on anything but my immediate
surroundings, but I could not, and so I put a foot in front of the other, and then again, until the immovable and certain
stones of my home were close, the drafty Ermitage that had become such a central part of my life calling to me.

But just now, as I thought of it, it felt a lot less warm and homey without the glint of kaleidoscope eyes there.

As I woke on the floor of L'ermitage several hours later, curled into a ball on top of a bundle of comforters, I could not
help but remember the face I had just closed my eyes too, if only in a dream. The memory of Fleur's despondent face
was a hard one to stare at, but not hard at all to recall.

I knew her enough to know what was going on through her mind, to a degree. A failure, and the pain of her own
weakness costing her little sister everything. The sister she loved more than life itself.

A deep pull of longing affected me, but I had learned to cope with such feelings long before today. The longing for a
family that loved unconditionally never went away. I always felt it when I was with the Weasleys, and I knew that the
longing of losing that would be so much more painful.

But she was wrong though. It had not been her fault. She could not blame herself. Gabrielle was safe, everything had
turned out okay.

I had to do something about it.

I got up and immediately felt faint. I remembered Professor Lupin swore for chocolate for such ailments, and as my
stomach agreed with him, I resolved to find some of the magical cure. At that moment it hit me.

I knew what to do.

I found myself floating in front of Fleur's door after a quick trip to the kitchens, and a not so quick one to the storage
rooms of Honeydukes, my feet an inch from the floor. It was late now, and even if it was risky I had to do without my
invisibility cloak. I simply could not hold on to it, the broom and my armful of sweets.

I knocked thrice with my foot.

The door opened with a haste I was not expecting, revealing puffy eyes and comfortable clothes. Her eyes widened
and she gaped, trying to form words.

"May I come in? I brought gifts." I lifted my bundle a bit.

Her eyes watered and her lip quivered, and then she threw herself at me, crashing with a desperate strength that
terrified me and enchanted me both. She held onto my shoulders, the broom dropping under the sudden weight,
making my feet brush the carpet. Luckily the charm did not activate, and I took the chance to compensate and steer
us into the threshold.

That was when her lips met mine, and I lost all control.

We plummeted into her room in a tumble of chocolate and silver hair. I quickly got up and looked at her, my wide
eyes meeting her own. I felt hot and cold at the same time, my fingers rose from the floor to lightly touch my lips, sure
that I could still feel the warmth of her against them. They were so sensitive that a spark exploded from that delicate
brush.

She looked at me with a face that reflected nothing if not decision, her cheeks rosy, the spots where the water devils
had scratched her looking even redder. She moved closer, until I could feel her warmth wafting into my skin, which
made me sputter and tremble.

"Fleur," I managed at last, my voice far airier than I would have liked, sounding more like a plea than the firm stop it
should have conveyed. "You don't need to- You owe me nothing."

"Non! I didn't do this because of that. I am grateful, but I would never...Nothing would make me do something like this
if I did not want to do it."

"But you- Why? Why then? Why would you-" I bit my lip, still hardly believing this.

"I kissed you because even though everyday I think of the reasons I shouldn't, right now I could only think of the
reasons why I should."

"I kissed you because you are kind, because you are strong and caring, because you would suffer anything just so
that your friends don't, because I can't stop staring at your small lopsided smile, because every time you ruffle your
hair I can't stop thinking how adorable you are. Because every time you look at me with those smiling green eyes I
just melt a little more. Because-"

I kissed her then.

I didn't know how else to answer, how else to convey how she made me feel, how her words and her frantic gestures
were affecting me, how I felt so full of energy, like I could run and run and never stop; like every fiber of my body was
thrumming, so much so that my legs seemed to shake and struggle to hold me. I couldn't suppress my smile blowing
full force against her lips if I wanted to. And I really did not want to.

I held her tightly in my arms as her surprise wore and she leaned into my embrace, her smiling lips seeking to match
my own.

I could hear the sound of people starting to fill the silence of the hall and whisper, but I did not care. They did not
matter, this was so much more important. More important than gossip or opinions, more important than even air, for
not even when our breaths were so thin that I felt faint we parted, gasping and panting breaths prolonging this infinite
moment.

We were holding each other with all we had, in desperation some would say, but the only thing in that moment that I
could care about was the feel of her arms, so much stronger than they should, as they wrap around me, of her
pointed fingernails as they dug into my scalp and my back, the feel of the muscles on her back tensing under my
fingers as she pulled us together, willing me to stay pressed as closely as possible to her, as if just a millimeter
between us would cause the other to disappear into thin air.

Her legs gave up under her, and my own ones, surprised by the sudden shift, decided to give up too. It didn't matter,
the floor would hold us where our legs couldn't.

I let my hands roam over the contours of her figure, mapping what I could not feel against me, our hearts beating, wild
and with such strength that I could not tell which beat was hers and which was mine; a symphony that was only for
us.

My hands found her face, as it was level with mine now. I could feel her soft cheeks, and then the sharpness of her
cheekbones across my palms as our faces shifted.

Her lashes brushed against my nose delicate as a butterfly and her airy hair caressed my face as the wind played
with it.

Our faces moved away from each other then, our lips still brushing as our desperate breaths moved us slightly. My
eyes were still closed, I could not remember closing them in the first place, but now I didn't want to open them lest the
moment end. I breathed deeply, inhaling the scent that wafted off her hair and her clothes, feeling her own breaths
against my face, letting my every sense bask where my eyes could not.

I could feel a tear escape my eye, "I wish I had good enough words to tell you what you mean to me, to tell you what I
feel about you." I whispered against her lips.

She pressed forward, our lips meeting in a touch so soft that my heart broke.

"You don't 'ave to say anything,'' her voice was low and had an openness to it that I had only heard from her the night
I warned her about the dragons, "You show it to me always, in the biggest gestures, or in the smallest of ways." She
said as she caressed my cheek.

It was then that I understood how even a heart of stone could beat.

Authors Note

Hello to you all patient peoples! Hope this chapter has been enjoyable and that it was worth the wait. This chapter
marks a stepping stone both in my writing, as I broke the 100k words with this one -Yehaw!- and in the development
of the central point of this story, as Liberty Prime likes to say, with that good smooch. It has been a hell of a ride for
me, and I could not be happier of were it had lead me. I sincerely appreciate all of you that have stuck with me and
my work ethic for this last two years, love you all.

My biggest thanks to x102RedDragon and Honorversefan for their invaluable skills as beta readers, and for all their
support and help. This chapter would not be here without them and the rest of the community at discord in some form
or shape. Hope you are happy now, Charlie, you kidnapper. _.

I will not go into answering the reviews directly this time, but I do have to say that someone is one lucky
brachiosaurus rotfl. Feel free to hit my DMs if you want to ask anything, but I would recommend you just join the
discord server, I am always there.

Invite to the Discord Server: discord . gg / k8ZxUjE

Remove spaces for the link to work. It's a permanent invite

*Chapter 18*: Show Me How To Live
Chapter 18

Gravity Bound

Or

Show Me How To Live

"Mademoiselle!"

The screaming voice was so filled with scandal that Fleur could not help but feel a deep sense of shame under it, and
she would have flushed had her blood not already rushed to her chest and face as if it was the last time it would have
a chance to do so.

Such was the feeling she got with Harry in her arms.

She opened her eyes in shocked realization. He was still there. He really was. She had done it. Oh god above, she
had done it. The smile on his face, a smile that came not merely from his lips, but that it was an entity that radiated
from every inch of skin that she could see.

His deep-set eyebrows, normally so reserved and cautious now raised and arched so that his beautiful, shining eyes
were unobstructed, his aquiline nose stark against his thin face, its shadow only highlighting the vibrant green of his
eyes. A smile wide enough as to make his normally plumb lower lip stretch to a line, wrinkles rippling his sun-tanned
skin.

so wide that even his normally plumb lower lip looked stretched to the point of almost a line making waves of wrinkles
on his sun-tanned skin.

She had never seen something so enchanting and beautiful, and she had done this. She had never felt so powerful.

The deep vibration on her chest could not be contained any longer, and a tight, laugh-like chirp passed through lips
so tight in their smile that her whole face felt stretched.

"Mademoiselle!" Came a second call, and as her shaken awareness realized that the prickling sensation on her
collarbones was not caused by the brush of calloused hands.

Her eyes widened and the itching moved to her shoulders, leaving behind a sense of burning and softness. She
jumped backward, eyes wild and back straight. Harry's smile wavered, tripping on her own panic.

She tried to give him a reassuring smile that surely was nothing more than a grimace.

"Delacour!"

Fleur startled and turned towards the open door. The door that was mostly eclipsed with the massive form of her
headmistress. She could see shadows move behind her, and the asinine whispers that she became aware after her
mind got out the turbulent river Harry had plunged her in, made apparent to whom those other voices belonged.

She felt her chin tilt down ever so slightly, trying to hide her face behind the shroud of her long hair, but a single
glimpse of her companion on the floor sent her feelings aflutter.

She would be damned if she let anyone take this from her.

She let her smile shine bright, as bright and open as she was able, letting the bonfire of her heart fuel it, letting it all
spill forth towards Harry.

It was not so hard at all.

She knew she must have shone more than figuratively, especially in the dim-lit room. She swallowed hard at that, but
quickly put it out of her mind.
The time for truth was belated as it was.

It was not hard at all to see that her Headmistress was not happy at all with the new development of her romantic life,
and the faster she defused the situation the better.

Her legs quivered when she stood, and she had to restrain her need to giggle. She needed to look calm and
collected.

Back straight and chin up she faced Madame Maxime, her silence the only acknowledgment she gave.

It should have come as no surprise that Maximes' answer was almost identical. It had been from her that she had
learned to behave as so, after all.

"Everyone back to your rooms."

It was a simple command, said calmly and softly, but not a single student thought to disobey.

"Come with me," She called to Fleur. A month back, she would not have hesitated. Now, though...

She glanced down at Harry, who was still half sprawled on the floor ungainly. She made a herculean effort not to
giggle. Had she not know better, she'd say he was in shock.

She smiled at the thought.

It was then that it came to her mind that she actually did not know what the signs of shock were.

"What about-" She started.

"The boy will stay here, waiting for his headmaster to pick him up." She waved her wand and a streak of silver light
shot from it towards the window. "I have already notified him."

With a sharp and excessively dramatic turn, or so Fleur thought, Maxime took down to the hall towards where her
office was.

Harry got up from the floor, his eyes still wide open, if considerably unfocused. The sharpness she was accustomed
to seeing in them returned quickly. Her heart lurched when she noticed how quickly innocence fled him.

His eyes fixed to the place Maxime had disappeared to, narrowing, and then turned to Fleur, his lips moving, trying to
keep up with a string of thought that was too fast for both of them.

She giggled. Harry was a man of actions, not words.

"Do not worry, mon petite. It's nothing serious. Not really. She is just gonna admonish me. Wait here."

She extended her hand, and after a moment his rose too, their fingers brushing against each other's palms.

She answered his shy smile and turned to leave, her eyes going back to Harry's face once more before he went out
of sight.

He was caressing the hand she had touched, his eyes locked on her.

The heat of her blush did not leave her even after having to endure a severe scolding on propriety and
competitiveness.

It was fortunate that Maxime had picked up on her opinions of Harry the last time she had had this conversation, for
at the moment, with her nature so very close to her skin, she would not have been able to contain an unmeasured
fury.

The door clicked behind her as she left the room, and she took a look at her reflection on the window. Her Flushed
skin, suffused with life, looked even brighter under the pulsating and shimmering light that emanated from her softly
swaying locks of silver hair.

As if prompted by her observation, the light stuttered. She closed her eyes and sighed.

The hardest part had not yet come.

—

"Take a seat, please, Mr. Potter."

I sat, as per the request of one of the most powerful and influential men in the world, on the ornate and comfortable
chair. I was pierced by his clear blue eyes from atop his interlaced fingers, wizened white brows lifting in question. It
was so natural a gesture that it looked to be their resting expression.

And then he said nothing, the maniac.

I was in a frugal state, my mind half on the carriage, half on the moment, my fingers twitching under the phantom
warmth of Fleur's body. The very thought of those words brought a new vibrancy to already overactive thoughts.

It was hard to focus through the haze, through the high of what had happened not twenty minutes before.

"So? Is there something you'd like to say for yourself, young man?"

With a few choice words, the sense of exaltation quickly gave way to a deep embarrassment.

No.

That was not really it.

I was embarrassed, yes, but not at being exhilarated, not at knowing how those shining lips tasted, how that flowing
hair felt, not at-

"Harry?"

I jumped on my seat, my hand going to the nape of my neck, bothering my hair as an excuse to not look into those
bespectacled eyes that looked far too young and mischievous to belong to Albus Dumbledore.

"Sorry, sir. I'm a tad…"

"Distracted? Can't say I blame you." Dumbledore chuckled, which only served to make my flush rise higher still.

I was embarrassed. I was lost. I did not know how to deal with it all. With what had happened. With what I was
feeling.

It was one thing to throw myself behind all that had been pushing me to that irresistible force that was Fleur Delacour,
to respond to that burning passion with the explosion of my own, and quite another to make sense of it all, to answer
in the face of other's scrutiny.

I felt irrevocably changed, yet at the same time, as unmoving as the oldest of mountains.

"Yes. Distracted is one word for it, Sir."

"It would be a fool of a man to put blame on you for such a state, if Olympe is to be believed, and she has rarely given
me reason not to."

I let my eyes fall to the floor again. Maybe counting the lines on the wooden floor would make time pass faster.

"You do not need to feel embarrassed, Mr. Potter. Yes, there is truth in saying that actions have consequences, and
that certain consequences should not be faced but by those that are prepared to take them, but it is also true that
rashness is in the nature of youth, even of youth as cautious and grounded as Miss Delacour."

I looked at him, and by the blink of his eye, I knew he knew I had noticed the omission of my own name in that
sentence. His lips twitched slightly.

I waited, not having felt like I was being prompted for anything yet.

"I would like you to tell me how you came to be there, Harry, as Madame Maxime was not privy to such happenings
by the time she… found you."

I felt my whole face move without my consent, and it was with effort that I put it under a semblance of control before
inhaling deeply, thinking where to start.
Each point I thought just made me think that the beginning was that much farther back, until a glimpse of gold around
a hallway's corner was the only thing in my mind.

I shook my head. Our story felt so very personal that just thinking of telling it all to someone felt off.

"I flew in." I decided in the end. "Under my invisibility cloak. I knew she was distraught because of the task and I
wanted to cheer her up."

"The chocolates on the floor?"

I nodded.

"Very thoughtful of you."

"Thank you, Sir." I examined his face, trying to find those telling signs. A twitchy eyelid, tense muscles, raised veins,
still eyes. I could find none.

"I think you seem to be under the impression that I am here to admonish you, Mr. Potter, or to punish you. I am here
to teach you, nothing more. That is my whole purpose. To guide my students through a path I think it's best not only
for them, but for all of us."

He looked at me, eyes reminiscent of a sky before a storm. "I just want you to think on this, Harry. What would a man
do for the ones he loves."

"Loves? But, Sir-"

"Just think on it, My boy. It may be an enlightening experience."

"Unbelievable!"

"Katie, please," I whispered, pulling at her robe to get her attention. Everyone was starting to stare at us.

"Miss 'Grannier,' get this, Grannier! They didn't even spell Granger right! 'Miss Grannier's clutches clawed deeply into
the two famous wizards, locking then into a romantic dispute that intermingles dangerously with the very nature of the
already dangerous Tournament.'"

"Katie-"

"And get this, get this. 'Her efforts to snatch the most eligible bachelors of the year may be in vain, however, as a
second pair of eyes has set on them, following them closely. And let us just say, the French Champion has claws of
her own, or should we say talons, and if our sources are correct, these ones are far better suited to her prey than
whatever charms and tricks the muggle-born witch could ever hope to wiel-'"

"Katie! Stop it."

"What! I'm trying to find where they mention me."

"What?"

"What do you mean with 'what'? I have had to work hard to get that blonde bird of yours jealous, I'd like my work
recognized."

"Keep your bloody voice down," I whispered through gritted teeth. My blushing face was a lot harder to control,
however, and the heat of the rushing blood brought vivid phantoms of velvety fingers.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, sorry. But, ugh, come on! Where is Katie Bell, Hogwarts Wicked Temptress, stringing dear Mr.
Potter away from his true love and his childhood friends." She shook her head mournfully.

"Where did you come up with that stuff from?"

She shrugged. "Mum's romance novels."

I spat my juice.
She giggled. " I think that I shall have to be more forward with my advances then." She leaned into my side, her lips
inches away from my ear. "What do you think, Mr. Potter?"

"Oh, har, har," I said as I pulled away, only to have her fall into me even more. "I think I should find Hermione and see
how she's taking this. It's not like her to skip breakfast and-"

I don't know what it was that made me turn my head. Maybe it was the almost palpable heat of her gaze, maybe it
was nothing but a coincidence. From the door to the hall, Fleur's eyes locked into mine, glowering.

She was very still. Dangerously so. Still as the marble to which her features so resembled in their hardening."

I sprung to my feet, Katie growling as she fell onto the bench.

Fleur turned and left. I rushed behind her.

A blur of colour and lights were the only things I saw as I fled in her wake, seeking the glint of silver that gave her
away.

Metallic things drew my eyes. They always did. The helm of a suit of armour, the frame of a sunlit window, a small
sickle on the floor as I turned into the entrance hall. None of them were the silver I sought.

I went into the grounds and instinctively took towards the Beauxbatons carriage.

I suppose it's as good a guess as any, I thought as the scenery flew past my eyes.

"What was that?"

Her voice stopped me. I turned.

She stood close to the castle wall, a few meters from the path I had taken, hidden in the long shadow of one of the
towers.

"What. Was. That." She repeated into my silence.

Even in the shadows, her hair caught the light enough that I had no issues seeing her face.

I wished it was not so.

"What- What?"

My magnificent eloquence saved the day again.

"Just yesterday I 'ad an awful discussion with my 'eadmistress, a family friend that 'as always supported me. A
discussion about you. And then I go look for you and find… that- that- putain, leaning all over you. I'm- It's-"

Her fists shook as she clenched them to her sides. The rest of her tensed as well. Dark were the eyes that stared at
me. Darker than I had ever seen them.

I sighed. With a few steps, I reached the wall, her eyes burning into my back, and sat down, leaning against it.

I looked at her. I was tired. I was so damn tired. There was always an issue, always something to solve.

Something in her eyes changed. It was a minuscule thing, and I would not know how to describe it. It was as much a
physical change as it was something I felt

I patted the floor on my side, as invitingly as I could, even popping a lopsided smile for effect. It turned sad after a
flash of her words from the night before sprang into my head.

'-Because I can't stop staring at your lopsided smile'

She neared, but she did not sit. She stood in front of me, falcon eyes awaiting.

"She's just trying to make you feel jealous, Fleur."

Her lips tightened so much more that they surely were at risk of fusing. They had gone past white and straight into
yellow. Wait what?

Her posture remained just as rigid.

"Look. She's just trying to help. To help me, I mean. And you too, I suppose, unless I misunderstood terribly what
happened yesterday. I- well. You- you are the first person that- yeah. I mean, I am so very out of my depth here."

I looked at the ground where I sat, the indomitable stare of her becoming too much, and ripped a tuft of grass off.

"I did not really know what to do. About you, I mean. You know? I really like you. A lot, and-" I ripped the grass leaves
into tiny bits. "Well, she was trying to help me with that. To get your attention, I mean. I don't think she did a very good
job but…" I shrugged. "She tried. I did tell her that making you jealous was a bad idea."

Her silence was painful.

She knelt before me and sighed. I looked up into familiar eyes over a barely-there smile.

"It really was not a good idea." She took my grass-stained hand in hers. "I apologize. I should not 'ave jumped to
conclusions. Again." She looked to the side. "This is all fairly new to me too."

"You aren't mad?

I hated how weak my voice came out, and had to contain the reflex to bite my tongue.

Speak clear, boy.

I squashed those memories.

"Yes. Yes, I am. But not at you. Not at that Catherine either, even."

We sat in silence for a while, listening to the sounds of a calm Highland morning. Lots of questions turned and twisted
in my mind, most of them not managing to coalesce into the appropriate words, and the few that did were too scary to
utter.

Her eyes were locked in the distance, their unique colours shifting in the light as I had gotten so used to. They had
looked so different when she had been mad.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes for a second. Fear was nothing new to me. I squared my shoulders. Her eyes
focused back on me as my lips parted, making them waver with the steel I had gathered.

"Yesterday. What did it mean?"

There. I got it out.

Fuck.

I got it out.

Her eyes widened and her lips parted for a moment. It took no insubstantial effort to rip my eyes off of those.

My breathing started to shorten as her silence stretched.

She mouthed before shaking her head.

"What did it mean? Was it not obvious? I- I like you. A whole lot more than I should. I will not fight against it anymore,
nor will I 'ide it."

I had never seen anything quite as beautiful as her skin as it rouged from the rush of her declaration.

I smiled. I could not help it this time. I smiled with such strength that my glasses shifted down my nose. Amusement
coloured her determined visage.

I shifted closer to her ever so slightly. She smiled. I shifted closer until our knees touched. My heart hammered for all
it was worth, and it redoubled at the sight of her lips, yellow sunlight reflecting onto their rosiness.
I leaned closer until our noses touched, and then ever so slightly more.

Our lips parted for a moment only to smile, her eyes crinkling, and darkening yet again.

She leaned forwards and our lips met again, softly, testing against each other, a tender kiss making my lips tingle
even as I answered back, exploring. She leaned more, my back touching the wall again.

I was between a rock and a soft place, and the thought made me laugh out loud. Her teeth pulled at my lip, insistent,
prizing a different sound out of me.

"Does that answer your questions, mon cheri?" Fleur's voice caressed my face.

"In a way." I chuckled. "We are… together now, then? An item?"

Her nose scrunched, and I had to hold back on the irresistible urge to kiss it. It took me a moment to realize that I
could do so now, if I liked.

"An uninspired description, but yes. We are 'an Item,' as you say. If that's okay with you, of course." She bit her lip. "I
realize now I did not leave you much of a say before."

If I did not know the impossibility of it, I would have said that my smile lit her face aglow.

I basked in the tender expression, beaming at me from a handbreadth away. Thoughts intruded, though, and my calm
facade shifted.

"What's wrong?"

"It's…" I breathed in, closing my eyes. You can do this. "We are together now. You've told me about your family,
about the things you love, and the things you fear. And then there was the thing with your sister…"

" 'Arry?"

"And then the misunderstanding with Katie…"

" 'Arry, that's okay that was my fau-"

"Yeah, maybe. Maybe not. But, in the end, it was something we could have avoided if I had told you before, would it
not?"

"Where are you getting at?"

"Honesty." I sighed. "There are things you need to know before you decide if you want us to be... well, us."

She looked at me, focused, and my heart ripped in two. I was making a mistake, but it was only fair.

"We all 'ave things that are private, 'Arry. You don't need to tell me anything you don't want to."

"Oh, but I do." I started to fidget with her hair from where it sprawled onto my legs. "It's… well, it's serious stuff.
Things that will affect you. It's… I know It's only been a day. Not even that. A dozen hours at best, but..." I looked at
her, pleading. I was going to scare her off. Throwing all of this on her so soon… But it would not do to wait until the
hammer dropped. And it always did.

She nodded. "I'm listening, Cheri."

Her hair gleamed and flowed between my fingers at the slightest move. A dream given shape.

"The first year I came to Hogwarts… I can't describe what I felt. I was about to explode with happiness. I had found a
world where I fitted in. It explained so much." I shook my head, my eyes lost in memory. "It was fantastic. The
classes, the friends I made. It was dangerous, at times, yes, but magic is like that, am I right? I got to know about my
parents from the teachers that had cared for them and everything."

"That sounds lovely." her hand rose to my hair.

"It was. Brave new world." I leaned into her touch. "I got into detention once because of a stupid fight, and had to go
into the forbidden forest." Her fingers stopped scratching me. "I was with Hagrid, don't worry."
"Hmmm." she expressed simply, her fingers resuming their delightful fussing.

"I saw… I saw Voldemort out there that day."

"What?!" She pushed herself up with the hand that still laid atop my chest, wincing as she pulled the strand of hair
that I had been running my fingers over.

"Sorry," I said. She merely waved her hand dismissively, her face considerably paler than usual.

"It's- It's okay." She ran her fingers down her hair, stopping to rub over where it had pulled. Our eyes locked. She
gulped.

"What did you say before?"

I exhaled. "I ran into, and away, from Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest, three years ago."

"But that's impossible. 'E died, 'es dead, 'ow could-"

"I don't know. He did not die, clearly, but he was not exactly alive like you and me either. There was no corpse that…
that day. I asked Dumbledore after that. He was hurt, vanquished, but not killed. Took him eleven years to find a way
to possess a body. He told me that himself."

She sat beside me on the ground, our hips gracing each other, a tuft of silver hair bunched in her hands.

"You don't believe me."

"I don't know what to believe."

I nodded. I would have been surprised had she bought it. I know I would not have. I'd give her time to do so.

"Why do you tell me this?" She asked, her voice the only melody on a blank canvas.

"Because it was not an isolated incident. It has happened twice more since. Once more the same year, and again the
next. And the one after that I had to contend with a psychotic escapee that turned out to be… well, you know that
one." I looked up at the sky. The sun had gotten a lot higher. "I suppose I just wanted you to know what you were
getting into. Dangerous things tend to happen to me, and it tends to suck the ones around me in."

I could feel her gaze, curious and exploratory, roaming over me.

"And now this year…" she whispered.

"Yeah."

"That is why you were not surprised?"

"Hmm."

"Mon dieu. That is what you meant that time. After the selection."

"Hmm?"

"Remember? 'Past experience' is what you told me."

"Ah, yes. You asked me if entering dangerous tournaments was so common for me." I laughed. "As I said, not quite,
but not so far off."

Birds chirped as they flew between the columns of the castles' spires, spiraling themselves up into the bright sky. It
was a beautiful sight. Beautiful, and a lot less painful than trying to endure the pained and halting look on Fleur's
eyes.

I closed my eyes. It was nothing less than I expected. Nothing less than I deserved.

She shuddered, bracing, and I braced myself.

"We all 'ave our secrets, 'Arry, and I will not push you away because of yours."
"I don't think you understand the dangers, Fleur, It could mea-"

Her finger fell to my lip, making silence, making me jump.

"Perhaps I do not. Perhaps, I do. But nevertheless, I choose you." She leaned, fluid, quick, like a well-practiced
motion, and gave me a soft peck on the lips. "We all 'ave our secrets. I hope you…" Her brows wavered in tandem
with her lips. She kissed me again.

Her head fell to my chest. It was an almost automatic motion for me to start scratching her scalp. She sighed, her
body melting into mine, yet her posture still stiff.

It had not been an insignificant piece of knowledge I had just dropped on her after all.

"Fleur-"

" 'ush, 'Arry. I chose this. I choose you." She lifted her head, and stormy eyes met mine once again before hiding
beneath a shimmering ocher curtain. "I chose you. I 'ope… I 'ope you chose me too."

I kissed the top of her head. Words were not looking like they would help her at all with whatever was on her mind,
much less my own clumsy words, but as she sobbed at my kiss, and hugged herself closer to me, I knew that, for
now, my presence was enough.

Sounds of merriment and revelry floated from downstairs, even out of the hours the pub should be full. Did these
people have nothing better to do than be in a pub in the middle of a workday? The door to the homey pub was looking
more daunting than anything she could think of. It called at her, taunting. A pale hand rose to the pommel. A small
childs' giggle came from the inside, and her hand faltered.

She took a deep breath and twisted the doorknob.

"Fleur!"

The warmth that enveloped her when the small arms of her baby sister wrapped around her waist knocked her tears
free from where she had been hiding them.

"Mon Ange-" her voice broke. "I am so sorry."

"That's okay, Fleur. We are both okay."

"But I-"

A hand fell onto her shoulder. She had not even noticed that her parents were there too.

"Do not blame yourself, mon petite. It should be us apologizing."

"But Papa-"

"Remy is right, mon amour."

"Maman?"

"We should have told you…"

Fleur shook her head. "No. You were asked to-"

"Ma petite." Remy looked at Fleur, his eyes turning loving towards his wife for an eternal moment before coming back
to rest on hers. The warmth of those brown eyes had never had failed to make her feel better. "There are some things
to which loyalty should always be weightier, that should always be more important. Sometimes we forget. Sometimes
we misplace our trust. Sometimes we make mistakes. We can only ask for forgiveness, and forget."

"Papa-" Her voice broke, the arms of her parents wrapped around her, and tears broke free. "There is nothing to
forgive"

It was a while before she calmed, before her mind got in control of her body again. It did not last long. It took but a
look from her mother's discerning eyes.
"There was a reason why you wanted to meet us, Fleur. Something more than making sure Gabby was well."

"she smacked her lips, already regretting her original haste on the matter. "Yes, it's... It's about a boy. 'Arry."

"The boy you wrote about."

"Oui."

Silenced reigned in the presence of Apolline Delacour.

"I do not know what to do. I do not know what to tell him."

"Abou what, my cheri."

"About me. About you. About our life, and what we are. He has said so much to me, trusted me and I-" She
shuddered. "I am scared."

"Oh, my Fleur," Apolline kissed her crown. "Fear not. The truth is the only way to go. It may break what you have, but
that would be for the best. Or it may build something beautiful." She kissed her husband. "It is our blessing and our
curse. To bare ourselves, and by doing so, bearing the other. People say that we hide and misguide, but it is not so.
We reveal what other wiles hide. I will not tell you to not be afraid, but I will tell you to trust."

"Your heart will never misguide you, ma fille, and if even then, we will be here for you."

And it was so, that enveloped in the warmth of filiality, Fleur Delacour steeled herself, and from the bottom of her
heart, made a choice.