Flowerpot

Potters of England, The Archaeologists

Harry was moving before the first scream stopped, it was instinct, even here.

He ran through the deck, weaving through the startled crowds with experience from another life.

He arrived to a scene strangely familiar.

"My sister" a silver haired woman screamed with a strong accent, two men holding her while she tried to jump overboard, "My sister fell, please, she can't swim, she is afraid of the water, please saver her!"

One of the men keeping her from jumping began to say something about cold water and waiting for a life guard.

Harry was in the air by then, diving into the cold waters of Norway.

He heard the call of a Raven before he reached the water.

Good.

The water was cold, very cold, and he knew he was going to hear it from his mother, as was her wont.

Then he saw it, almost too deep for the sunlight to reach. Glinting silver hair floating in the water, so familiar, like a dream.

And Harry swan, thankful for his father having taught in one of their trips to Egypt.

He reached her, she wasn't moving, but when he grabbed her he felt she was still alive, and magic, she had magic! Of course she did.

As he swan up, Harry's rebellious mind supplied to him how beautiful she was, even underwater.

He didn't see the dark shadow following them up, but he heard it.

Harry turned back, wand in hand, to see the creature's red eyes widen, and it made a hasty retreat.

My mark will either protect you, or make you target for my enemies he was glad it was the former.

He reached the surface just in time to see men preparing to dive, and a crowd looking down, he also heard the girl's sisters sobs.

And his father, looking between proud and exasperated, his mother looking beside herself in worry. It brought a warm feeling to his heart.

They were quickly brought back onboard, given blankets and at least three medics, each speaking a different type of broken english, along with three crewman, went to to check on them.

"You a crazy boy, Englishman." a heavy set blond, probably German, made him sit and began using a stethoscope on him, though he didn't look as worried as the other five people who were tending to girl, "crazy but brave, you saved her, you should be proud, freund."

How familiar those words were for him, but Harry kept looking at the girl, releasing a sigh of relief when he heard her cough, just in time for his parents to go through security, his father's penetrating blue eyes now calm, and his mother's green ones looking between proud, angry and worried.

"Harry Charlus Potter!" his mother shouted before hugging him.

"Mum, you are going to get wet." he said, exchanging a smile with his father, who was patting in on the shoulder.

"Oh, shut up, you foolish boy." for someone from a family like hers, she was quite emotional, and Harry loved her for it.

"You did well, Harry." His father ignored his mother's glare.

A commotion began near them, and Harry saw the girl he saved and her sister, accompanied by short, stocky young man.

The man who was tending to him smiled, and patted him on the back, " You're good to go kid, nice work." he then exchanged a few words with his parents, and left.

The other group approached, the girl he had saved was shivering under a blanket, and her sister was hugging her, the young man hovered protectively near them.

"I don't know how to repay you, Monsieur, you saved my little sister, you just jumped in there without thinking, I-I", she sniffed, and the young man placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, murmuring softly in French.

The girl under the blanket was looking at him oddly as if trying to place him.

"Thank you for saving me...er...I don't think I know your name."

Her sister gasped, "Oh, I am sorry, I-I totally forgot." she looked sheepishly at him, before extending her hand. "I am Apolline, Apolline Dubois, this is my boyfriend..."

"Jean DeLacour, a pleasure, and thank you."

The girl looked up at him then, and even shivering, pale and with her silver hair wet, she smiled, and her eyes brightened, and Harry knew he was lost.

"And I am Fleur Dubois."

“For mortals like you, it may seem a line, but that’s a matter of perspective, for us, it sometimes resembles a wheel, always turning.”

Harry was beginning to understand that, before a polite cough from his father made him glance, remembering where he was.

Fleur, and she really looked like the Fleur he had known, was looking at him, looking somewhat confused.

“Oh, I am sorry, you just, remind me of someone I know, er, I am Harry, Harry Potter, and these are my parents…” Harry indicated the two adults on his side.

“Charlus Potter” his father said.

“Doreah Potter.”

Jean’s eyes widened, “Oh, the Potters of England, of course, my family has dealings with yours.”

Harry’s father chuckled, “You must be thinking of my brother, Fleamont, he’s the businessman, I am just an archeologist.”

Harry and his mother rolled their eyes at the now overused deflection.

Apolline smiled, as if an idea, had come to her. “Well, I need to take my leetle sister to the infirmary, but we would be honored if you would dine with us tonight, and later, well, I am sure Mamam would like to meet you.

“We would be honored,” Charlus said, after throwing Harry a side glance, his eyebrows raising minutely.

Apolline saw where he was looking and gave a weird look at Harry, who was still staring into Fleur’s eyes, who was staring right back.

Apolline raised her eyebrows, before whispering to his sister, who appeared to come back to herself, before blushing brightly, she still looked up at Harry and smiled.

“Thank you for saving me, and I hope to see you later, ‘Arry.”

He was truly lost.

The french group left them after setting up a time, and Dorea Potter looked at her only son with a knowing glint.

“Oh, my, I think poor Bella will be disappointed.”

Harry groaned while his father chuckled, this whole thing still confused him a lot.

“Come, Harry, you need a hot bath.”

“Yes, Mum.” Even after fourteen years, saying that still made him absurdly happy.

As they were walking, with people congratulating him in various accents and even languages, Harry saw a rather large Raven looking at him from the boat’s roof.

And Harry remembered how they were only on that specific boat because of bad weather.

He looked at him, and nodded his head. “Tell him I said thank you”,he whispered. The rune on his hand warmed a bit, the raven cawed and flew away.

“So, Harry, excited for going to Hogwarts? I managed to get your Uncle Arcturus to back off for two years so we could travel, but no escaping Third Year.” His mother piped up.

“Your uncle Fleamont is also insistent, he appears to think you’ll be able to contain your cousin.”

Harry snorted at that, he and…James, were friendly, but not close. For some reason, Harry was closest to his Mother’s side of the family, which always shocked him.

But now, thoughts of Hogwarts and his many cousins there were far away.

He was more focused on a pair of sky blue eyes and beautiful silver hair.