Flowerpot

Diverges from canon after third year, with Pettigrew being arrested and Sirius freed. Having seen the memories of Harry banishing the horde of Dementors, Albus decides to take Harry as an unofficial apprentice, seeing much potential in him. Pettigrew escapes (with assistance) and seeks out his old master. The Triwizard Tournament happens with Harry being dragged into it too. Albus’ tutelage shows itself with Harry having a showdown with his dragon. The difference is that Fleur does not attend Beauxbatons, a French OC is a champion. Voldemort gets resurrected in the end but Harry proves more troublesome. Some Death Eaters doubt their master, Voldemort restores order by executing some of them. Still, this shows Voldemort he needs to acquire more allies and power. Instead of trying to get the Prophecy, Voldemort focuses on contacting various groups around the world and gathering like-minded beings.

Albus knows this and does the same while trying to counter Voldemort’s advances. This goes on for years while Albus also trains Harry and his confidants for the inevitable open conflict. Now, having graduated from Hogwarts, Harry, Albus and their allies are travelling the world, looking for artefacts and allies of their own, having many adventures. Harry and friends are all formidable wizards and witches and build up some renown.

Now they are on a diplomatic mission to the Summer Court of the Fae. Albus and the Royal Couple are deep into negotiations while a feast is arranged for the guests. Harry and the entourage exchange curious, appraising glances with the various courtiers and commanders, some of them looking nearly human (and inhumanly beautiful) while others more closely resemble beasts oflegends. Negotiations drag on into the night and the guests are offered quarters.

As Harry is getting ready for sleep, the door to his quarters open. He reacts quickly and his wand is trained on the intruder, a cloaked person with glowing eyes the colour of the summer skies, hair shining with silver and gold, managed by two intertwined braids. Her face has a stern, harsh beauty to it.

She reveals herself to be the Queen’s Storm Leader, a commander of an elite combat unit.

Upon his query, she replied: “Names have power, Lightbearer. But your deeds in banishing the shadowy fiends have impressed many. In your tongue I would be caller Flower. As for me being here, why, I am making you mine.”

A searing kiss silenced any of Harry’s further questions. He noticed she tasted tangy, reminding him a fruit he couldn’t recall. She shrugged off her cloak, revealing a firm, toned body, yet Harry was surprised by the softness of her curves.

Their joining was tumultuous like a summer storm and certainly loud. In the morning the Royal Couple announced their alliance with Dumbledore’s cause and when they asked for volunteers to join them, it was the proudly smirking Storm Leader who stepped forth. Harry, still bearing marks from that night, noticed the fond look in the Queen’s eyes following that announcement.

Life then certainly proved interesting for Harry, for his new partner was capricious like Spring weather, one moment warm and soothing like a fresh breeze, another raging like a summer storm, only to calm down again. Yet her wrath, when roused, proved as devastating as a hurricane. Harry still wondered what made her decide to join them. But as he got to hold her and be held by her every night, he knew it was all worth it.

Harry and Fleur stared at each other intensely, the cards in their hands properly hidden. Harry turned his head to the left to see his son, Philippe frowning in disappointment. It seems he has yet to master his game face.

He turned to his left and saw his little Marie pouting. He didn’t understand why, she only had one card. Five minutes later, he realized the situation: her last card was a wild +4!

“‘Ow could you, Marie?! A +4!” Fleur whisper-shouted.

“Mummy I didn’t want to end up with the wild card! Philippe played a 7!” Marie bemoaned.

“Me?!” Philippe said indignantly. “Dad played the 0!”

This simple game of Uno later became the most famous wholesome argument the world had ever seen.

(A/N: This can also be called the silent prophet’s angry rant about ending Uno matches on a +4.)

Percy Jackson is Harry Potter and Sally's son. Somehow, Percy ends up at Camp Half-Blood and most of the people think he is Poseidon's son because of his looks and most of them saw him conjuring water. He vehemently denies it but everyone is determined to make him reveal the 'truth'.

Zeus and Hades are accusing Poseidon of breaking the oath and he is just tired of denying it.

Harry is laughing his ass off seeing all the chaos.

After forty years I left the sea For a life upon a lake. After all the dark lords I needed a good break. I thought warm weather would mean peace for me But that was a mistake For the house I chose was bedeviled By a giant evil drake A mallard of such malice, twice the size of any man A beak to give you nightmares and a monsterous wingspan You cannot hope to fight her so avoid her if you can The terrifying waterfowl The beast beyond the O- Cean

-Harry after moving to an old chateau in southern France that was repurposed by the family that owned as a long time hostal and meeting the heiress to it, and the one that took care of the lands vineyards, Fleur Delacour

Harry had quite clear expectations from his life. As an orphan he got adopted by by his father’s distant cousin. He got trained as a squire and was to earn his knightly spurs soon. Then he would serve as a knight for his noble stepbrother, and eventually earn a small keep to govern.

That all changed when his parents’ murderer, the warlock Voldemort, attacked his new family’s holdings during his knighting ceremony. His adopted parents, his mentor, all perished, slain by magic until then unseen. His stepbrother survived, broken and disfigured, but would never walk again.

So Harry sets out on a quest. He cannot bring back those who fell, but he can make sure that the monster won’t hurt anybody else.

Fleur, the alluring dancer at a fair, holds many secrets. She is one of the Fair Folk. She was driven from the Faerie by Lord Hemlock, one the enigmatic big players of the cutthroat Faerie politics, and a ruler of a realm so distant from human lands that should a mortal even behold his lands, their mind would likely be unable to cope. And she has many reasons for sending furtive smiles at the young grim-faced knight.

When the memento of his family gets stolen by a servant of Lord Hemlock, Fleur cannot contain her glee. Such an easy way to approach him just fell in her lap. Wearing innocence as a veil, she sets to entrap Harry, to direct him at her own foe, offering him the knowledge of where the thief took his heirloom.

She would have her own Knight of Iron, she would temper him to survive in the Faerie, and she would wield him to achieve her revenge.

In a strange land they experience even stranger tales, and even their own quests of intertwine, for Lord Hemlock does not act alone.

A tale of Chivalry, Duty, and Vengeance.

But can love bloom in such soil? Unexpected, uninvited, unbidden…

This was why he fought. Not for revenge, not for glory, not for some misguided sense of obligation to the wizarding world. No, Harry fought to stop things like that happening in the future. Were it under different circumstances, he would have wondered at the difference, tried to compare it to what he knew. Yet this, at this moment was all he knew. The sun reached its zenith.

On a raised dais, arrange in a small, decorative boat, laid the body of Boyana Belova, a distant cousin and close friend of Fleur Delacour, a proud, fierce and beautiful Veela. Her body and clothes arranged to show off the grievous wounds she suffered at the hands of Death Eaters. Were it a normal wizarding funeral, her robes would have been arranged to preserve her dignity, to hide her wounds, to spare the mourners the grisly sight. Not so here. Proudly her suffering was displayed. This she withstood. She did not break. Fleur publicly joined Harry in his fight against Voldemort, so they tried to subvert her family. Boyana was the only one who wasn’t in hiding. When cajoling and bribing did not work, they threatened her family. When the messenger bearing that message was returned to Voldemort a head shorter, they resorted to torture, trying to break her. She never did. And now she lay here, in the Veela enclave where Harry and Fleur married, surrounded by her many friends and relatives. Fleur stood in front and intoned in her beautiful, brittle but steady voice.

“Veliona, this one’s heart is pure, 
But beset by wickedness and hatred.
Guide her to where all hunters return, 
where the lovernever leaves, the hungry never starve. 
Guide this one, Velu Mate, 
And she will be a companion to you as she was to me.”

Having finished this, the surrounding Veela raised their voice in a keening wail as Fleur’s hand burst into blue flames. The purifying fire was allowed to jump onto Boyana’s ship and started consuming it.Fleur stepped back, allowing the fire to grow and the mourners dispersed into smaller group. Harry opened his arms, ready for Fleur to flow into his embrace, resting her head on his shoulders. He did not need to hear her sobs to know she was crying for her beloved friend, her form shaking with her sobs. After a time they sat at a bench, both collapsed, emitting a bone-deep weariness. This was far from the first burial both had to attend. Fleur now stopped crying, Harry himself dried his tears, his face set into a grim visage. “So many have already fallen, Fleur. At the beginning I tried to learn everyone’s name, but…” Harry haltingly began, only to be firmly squeezed by his wife. “I am so sorry about her. I wish…” “Shh, my love,” Fleur put a finger to his lips. “Remember that we chose to enter this fight. We chose to stand with you, knowing the price would be steep.” With a deep sigh, both fell silent again, waiting for the sun to set.The flames have died down, leaving only ashes of the once vibrant Boyana. The ash have been carefully scooped up by four priestesses and with a slow chant, each priestess went in one cardinal direction, until, finally, they reached the boundary of the enclave. There, singing haunting hymns, they spread the ash, so that the memory of Boyana’s courage may guard the souls of Veela young and old. Now everyone stood gathered at the centre of the enclave again, yet the atmosphere changed. Where it was previously heavy with grief, now Harry felt as if the air was charged, shortly before an oncoming storm. In every pair of eyes he saw a new fire. From this tragedy, shown the way by the inspiring exemplar of courage, numerous fighters joined the struggle against Darkness.

Harry doesn't react like other boys do to the allure. Because of his mother's protection when he comes in contact with Veela allure Harry feels love and comfort and warmth, like being held in his mother's arms.

During the TWT Harry feels that warm feeling again and wanting to feel happy instinctively grabs it and wraps it around himself. Fleur feels her allure being actively tugged and pulled on when she's in the main hall of Hogwarts. Curious and a little afraid she begins to try to find what's happening and writes to her mother about the sensation.

Within the next weeks Appoline does what research she can and eventually decides to accompany her family to Hogwarts during the second task to help Fleur look into the event.

Cue Harry being himself and saving an adorable little girl. During the fallout of the second task Harry finally relieved of dealing with people allows himself to relax and feels the happy warm feeling and wraps it around himself, Fleur and Appoline feel it and are able to figure out that it's Harry.

The Delacour Family headed by Marquis Sebastian Delacour is among the most powerful in France not only due to there alliances with other powerful families, but also due to their reputation. A Delacour is honorable, a Delacour does not compromise their way of life to appease others, and a Delacour always pays their debts. For a Family like the Delacours events like the world cup are unavoidable. However when a school boy saves his eldest daughter who was being chased by death eaters, Sebastian declares his noble family an Ally to Harry Potter.

Over the course of Harry's 4th year, after being entered in a tournament against his will, how will Harry stop the determined Fleur from learning about his unfortunate life outside of school, her declaration that he shall take her to Yule Ball. Harry likes Fleur but worries for her safety, but after saving Fleur from the Grindylows and Gabrielle from the merfolk in the second task, Fleur's advances become even more aggressive. Fleur wants Harry to be hers and she will have him. When the Marquis finds out about the Dursleys, he offers Harry the one thing that Harry has always wanted a family. Fleur gets Harry to agree to a Marriage Contract. Harry moves in with his the family of his betrothed while the Dumbledore tries to keep Harry with the Dursleys and the Dursleys out of jail. Themes include Flammel surviving, Dumbledore being an ass, French Nobility, and a very persistant Fleur Delacour...

Throughout the ages there are stories, stories of gods and angels, monsters and devils, heroes and villains, and in all of these one thing is certain.

"Pride goweth before the fall".

But what of a hero stripped of pride from the beginning? One touched by fate and blessed with power, but freed from the hubris that felled so many before? There are many titans of magic and power, and all them are remembered in either glory or infamy. But what of a humble demigod? A wielder of supernatural power unfettered by pride.

Surely such a being could not abide in magical Britain, the land of heraldry and the glory of bloodlines of past deeds, but it is there that he was born. There that he fought. There that he died. Or did he? Some say that he stole away in the night after his victory over evil, fled away across the sea to one who knew his heart and not just his name, and bade all he met to forget his passing, to forget he was ever there. But, this is nonsense of course. After, there is no such thing as a demigod stripped of his pride.

Basically, Harry is not just another person, but someone well and truly blessed in power. Like a hero from myths, the guy has it all. Power, persuasiveness, luck. The one he doesn't have is ego. He was told his whole life he was worthless, and eventually he started to believe it. As he grows and matures however, people begin to realize he is no ordinary person. Like some mythic king of old he simply grows and grows until he looms over all he sees and his only equals are others that loom as large.

The world he was born into was dying, choked by one and barely held onto by another, and so the stage is set for Harry to set out on a crusade, and to fade away when it's done. His one escape being the only person who has the perspective of distance from the situation.

Fleur was a pirate captain. A good one, at that, as Veela’s tended to be.

She had taken to the job like a fish to the water, the next in a long line of Delacours to take to the high seas in search of glory and treasure. Her natural abilities as a Veela had only enhanced her already formidable skills, and the fanatical loyalty of her crew was a thing to behold. Even with ship wizards no crew could stand her wrath. Yes, Fleur Delacour was a fearsome pirate indeed. When she had left, the other had warned her not to get attached to the humans she captured on raids or from their ships. She knew they would turn out to be problems if she let them get too close.

Now if only that green-eyed, messy haired slave she had picked up the other day would stop being so tidedamned Interesting!

“So it all comes down to this, doesn’t it?” whispered Harry.

“Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does . . . I am the true master of the Elder Wand.” A red-gold glow burst suddenly across the enchanted sky above them as an edge of dazzling sun appeared over the sill of the nearest window. The light hit both of their faces at the same time, so that Voldemort’s was suddenly a flaming blur. Harry heard the high voice shriek as he too yelled his best hope to the heavens, pointing Draco’s wand:

“Avada Kedavra!”

"No u!"

There was no meeting of spells as Harry had casted the most powerful spell in the existence of wizard kind, the demise of dark Lord was inevitable.

Fey: You will get your due, however you now owe us your first born child!

Magical: Okay. (Starts stripping)

Fey: What are you doing!?

Magical: You wanted my first born right? Are we doing this now or later?

Harry struggled through the Triwizard Tournament, competing against the other Champions. This competition forged a curious bond of respect, even kinship between the Champions, their shared experience making them stand out from among the other students. Now Harry went through the maze, braving beasts and other dangers and finally reached the cup.The portkey brought him to Little Hangleton where Voldemort and Wormtail proceeded to stun Harry. He awakened only to witness the horrific ritual Voldemort used to cloth himself in true flesh once again. In his hubris he chose an abomination of a ritual, a series of acts so horrific, even the Magic of the world around them screeched in pain.

Unknowingly, Voldemort unleashed a cataclysm on the world. Harry managed to escape to Hogwarts, where, overwhelmed by the horror and pain, he collapsed. Harry awakened to a changed world, in reaction to Voldemort’s ritual, an Anathema to magic itself, magic retaliated. Combined with the astronomical situation, a Conjunction of the Spheres happened. Many new species entered the world, magic itself grew stronger and more chaotic. Muggles suddenly found themselves in a very much different world, where every forest, every mountain, every body of water were inhabited by overprotective spirits who had no compunction about slaying careless humans. Those who died violently, holding a grudge, rose again as the vengeful death. Nights became the domain of horrors and predators once again, the influence of humans was much diminished. It is in this new world where Harry, Fleur and their friends have to find their way and, stop Voldemort before he does even more damage. But to do that, they have to adapt to the world first. The world full of monsters, immune to steel, often resistant to magic, and so very hostile.

Harry vows to stand by his friends, mirroring the vow Fleur made to him when he returned from Little Hangleton.

Harry’s heroic sacrifice to save Hogwarts students purchasing their supplies on Diagon Alley, the subsequent investigations, and public hubbub resulted in allowing the ghost of one of the most recognizable heroes the world over forming right in Diagon Alley. Unfortunately for all of Harrys’ close friends, his unresolved task was tied to revitalizing the Potter family. As the last Potter many assumed Harry was fated to become an immortal ghost to forever haunt Diagon Alley.

That is until one Fleur Delacour appears in a pale-blue sundress with a stroller and a green-eyed toddler.

(AU: Fleur and Harry hit it off during 4th year and shacked up after the whole 7th year fiasco resulting in a baby Potter. Feel free to ignore the Fleur bit or throw in a baby Potter from Ginny/Hermione via in vitro fertilization. Maybe some inheritance troubles with multiple babies and ghosts not able to select an heir.)

On that fateful night, Lily dies first to Voldemort’s wand, having fallen after a fierce assault to defend her baby. Voldemort offered James the option to live. There would be other women, of worthier blood and more, pureblooded, children if he would just join him and let him kill little Harry. But James refused and was slain. His courageous sacrifice triggered the protections his parents had layered on Harry and Voldemort’s killing curse was reflected back at him.

Dumbledore recognized the magic covering Harry like a comforting blanket, the echo of a father’s love. There were no truly close blood relatives to whom he could tie the protective enchantments, but the Potters have for centuries lived on the same land where they toiled, shed sweat, tears, and blood. They had been the caretakers of the Welsh Dragon Reserve for centuries, having lived there, in relative harmony with the dragons even before the Reserve got established. Though cross-breeding such as the rumours suggested, was truly impossible, some dragon magic had undeniably mixed with Potter magic over the ages.

And it is the Reserve where Dumbledore placed Harry in the end, the land whose magic resonated closely with Harry’s own. And so Harry grew up among the dragon handlers, having multitudes of adoptive uncles and aunts, becoming an unofficial mascot. He truly was loved by all the inhabitants on the reserve, of both the human and the scaly variety. Since he could walk, Harry wandered dragon lairs, played with hatchlings and was watched over by the dragon mothers. As he grew older, he had many experiences unique to him. He flew with a dragon when he was five. He helped with his first hatching when he was eight. He grew up truly bilingual, learning both English and the Dragon Sign Language that the handlers had developed to communicate with their charges. [1:30 PM] Harry comes to Hogwarts more knowledgeable about the wizarding world, a bold, decisive child, a boisterous, hot-blooded and playful boy. He is warm, attracts friends and makes rivals easily. His magic, though, reacts much more wildly than the other students. Perhaps only Seamus could match him when it came to explosions. Of all the magical elements, fire came easiest at Harry’s call. He was at home in the air. But, as friendly as he was, his ire, when roused, was a sight to behold. The young Malfoy may be called after a dragon, but he quickly learned that his magic and prowess could not compete with the wrath of a dragon, even an adoptive one.

Harry’s relationship with Fleur Delacour started as many of Harry’s activities went. Loudly. Fire was involved. Both of their friends often ran for cover for when these two fiery souls met, a spark jumped between them. With identically short tempers and their passions running high, their relationship shall never be boring or ordinary.

AU Harry Potter/Pirates of the Caribbean

Set in The mystical world of Harry Potter, with elements from Pirates of the Caribbean

Pairing: Harry 'Scarface' Potter/Susan Bones (get it? Crossbones lol)

Could be a one-shot or longer

Harry would be like Captain Jack Sparrow

The scene in the Order of the Phoenix where the students are taking their exams and the weasley twins interrupt with the fireworks would be replaced with the students minus Harry taking their tests when they started to hear some eerie music and chanting going:

"Yo ho, oh Lads, hoist the colors high" the wind outside starts to pick up and the students plus Umbridge hear flags rustling in the wind and shadows of flags appear in the hall.

The chanting continued on: "Heave ho, Thieves and Beggars, today you shall die" ( the Thieves and Beggars concept is my idea of the corrupt Ministry) The shadows seemed almost as if they were sharpening towards Umbridge and her inquisitorial squad. They were petrified with fear seeping into their very bones. Harry suddenly materialized from within the shadows in front of everyone…

My idea of Harry's appearance is that he would be wearing a hat similar to Captain Jack Sparrow's with one of Hedwig's feathers and a phoenix feather tucked in it. He would have rings upon his fingers, some of houses he inherited and those he conquered(stealing like a pirate would)

Bill can't deal with the curse scars, he can't stand the look on Fleur's face, that he swears is pity. So he keeps taking long expeditions as a cursebreaker. Fleur feels the strain and can't figure out how to get through to him. Harry is broken after the war, has distanced himself from the Weasleys because he caused Fred's death. Begins a nonprofit/orphanage for war victims, causes him to go to Gringotts a lot to meet with his accountant/set it up, etc. The accountant turns out to be Fleur

Thorfinn Rowle awoke sitting in a chair in a dark room. Before he could regain his bearing and recall how he got wherever he was, the door in front of him opened and an impossibly beautiful woman entered, tall, willowy, with flowing locks of glowing silvery hair, sharp cheekbones and penetrating sky blue eyes. Her movement were graceful and when her smile hit him like a pickaxe to the temple.

The Goddess come to Earth approached him and stoked his cheek with an elegant finger, her nail filed to a point.

“’Ello, monsieur Rowle.” Her purring, accented voice sent shivers down his spine and his trousers felt uncomfortably tight. Was she glowing? Of course she was.

“I ‘ave been looking forward to meeting you.” Her whispered pronouncement brought a goofy smile to his face.

“Do you know what would impress me?” The Goddess whispered in his ear. He shook his head desperately. He needed to know!

“I want you to tell me what you know.” Now the Goddess stood in front of him, her gaze seemingly spearing his mind. “Tell me the names of your colleagues.”

And so Thorfinn spoke. It was so easy, he would do anything to please the Goddess who chose him to pay her personal attention to. He named his fellow Death Eaters, where they lived. He spilled the secrets of their initiation. For one more smile and a nod, he went into detail of their activities. How Severus Snape provided addresses of muggleborns, especially girls, how Lucius helped smooth the ruffled feathers at the ministry when the girls went missing. How Dolohov and Macnair ambushed and slaughtered Remus Lupin while Pettigrew led a raid on the Weasley home, guiding the Lestranges there. For half and hour he spoke, until he finally ran out of secrets.

His Goddess smiled sweetly at him, once again caressing his cheek. “Thank you. Wait here, I will return and bring my friend too. You deserve a reward.” Thorfinn shook with anticipation as he watched her leave the room. Outside, Fleur turned to Harry. “Do you ‘ave everything?”

Harry nodded with a stony face. “Yes. He’s worthless to us now. We can’t afford keeping him alive.”

And so Fleur and Harry entered the room, greeted by the drooling Death Eater. Harry, with a jab of his curved, Blackthorn wand pierced Thorfinn’s left eye and brain.

Harry took out his charmed mirror and pressed one of the runes at the edge. A multitude of scarred, hardened faces appeared, looking expectantly at him.

“We have new targets.”

"Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?" spoke a voice from behind Harry.

Turning, he noticed that it was the girl he’d noticed laughing during Dumbledore’s speech. Harry took in her long, silvery-blonde hair and deep, blue eyes at a glance before turning to pass her the requested dish. As he did so, Harry noticed that Ron had turned an odd shade of purple, gaze locked on the new arrival and mouth ajar. In fact, most of the boys at Gryffindor table were in a similar state while several of the girls appeared quite put out.

Putting it out of his mind for the moment so as not to be rude, he presented the beautiful girl with the bouillabaisse, only to notice something equally odd. She was staring at him. Her sapphire eyes weren’t peeking up at his scar, however, as many did, but instead gazing deeply into his own. As he watched, a light flush crept up her cheeks, deepening as they peered into each other’s eyes.

“Pardon me!” the girl exclaimed after a handful of awkward moments, turning abruptly and stalking off back towards Ravenclaw table, bouillabaisse forgotten.

Harry blinked, confused. “I wonder what that was about,” he muttered to himself, looking at Ron and Hermione questioningly.

Fleur, meanwhile, was unable to get thoughts of raven black hair and soulful green eyes out of her mind.

In which not only is Harry immune to Fleur’s allure, but he actually reflects it back at her. Features flustered Fleur and bemused Harry.

“Thou mayest doubt the depth
of the see. 
Thou mayest doubt the permanence of stars. 
But never doubt my love for Thee.” 

Veela Lady Iskra to her Knight, Sir Dragomir Krum, before proceeding to incinerate a coven of vampires trying to move into her and Dragomir’s lands. What is this? It can be a prompt for a historical fic, taking place cca 1490? Could take place around Wallachia. They’d have an epic romance including defending their lands from vampires, feral werewolves and Turks.

But, it could be something very rarely touched in HP fanfic. Theater, drama, a wizarding play. So many times in fics, they mention wizarding culture, but include so little of actual culture. Let this be a theatre play, a drama, a romance, maybe a tragedy?

Why not both?