Harry had done it. All the trials. All the scepticism. He’d passed it all, and it all accumulated in that moment, where he stood, across from the love of his life, Fleur Delacour, under the light of the full moon as the Matriarch began the final ritual, the one that would bind their souls together for the rest of their lives, and beyond.
As the Matriarch spoke the final words, as the magic surrounding them both rose to a great crescendo, Fleur’s soul opened itself up to its mate, reaching out, baring itself in its entirety. Harry’s soul did not reach back.
TO the shock and horror of the watchers, the ritual fails.
For hosting the horcrux in his body had made harry’s soul a living contradiction. Warm, yet utterly frigid.
Open, yet closed off to all. There, but so hidden it may as not well be.
And the doubt returned. Fleur refused to give Harry up. Their souls may not have bonded, but they were made for one another, and both refused to accept anything else. The Veela coven no longer acknowledge Harry, neither as Fleur’s mate, nor as a living individual.
In another world, in another life, acknowledging their love would be all they needed. Bond or no bond, they would go one to live full, happy lives.
Yet this was not that world.
For you see, in the bonding ritual, Veela bare not only their soul, but their lives, their vitality, their entire existence. In a normal case, the bonding seals it, strengthening all that is bared.
Yet there was no bond, so Fleur’s being was left open.
And she began to wither away.
It was slow at first, yet as it began to speed up, the situation got more and more dire. Harry, unable to see his love slowly dying because of him, leaves on a journey to fix himself, to heal his soul, to open himself up to the bond to save her.
Appoline, Gabrielle and the rest of their family and friends stay with Fleur and protect her. Yet the pressure keeps mounting, as the rest of the coven, terrified for the life of one of their members, tries to force her into a bond, if only to keep her from fading away.
And after being sick for multiple days in a row, Fleur gets some shocking, terrifying news.
She’s Pregnant. With Harry’s child.
I see two ways this goes:
- GOOD END:
Harry works himself to the bone, living a destructive, suicidal lifestyle, searching, learning, travelling from country to country, often multiple times a day.
He spends sleepless nights and harsh days, searching, chasing every lead, as the clock ticks down. He learns more in those days than he had in his entirety of existence, yet its never enough.
Back at home, Fleur’s condition is getting worse. The coven is getting more desperate to have her bond, and Harry and Fleur’s family and friends begin staying over, to keep her safe, to keep her alive.
Yet Fleur is fading away. The withering begins to speed up, and the stress of pregnancy bears down on her, ever growing. Yet, through love and pure strength of will, she hangs on, determined to live for her Harry and their child growing inside her.
Harry’s final gambit leads him back home, back to Fleur, who has nearly faded away. Terrified he’s failed, he holds her close one last time and weeps, apologising over and over and over.
And in those final moments, in that fear, his soul opens itself up to the last, grasping touch of Fleur’s, and they intertwine. Harry sobs despondently, eyes squeezed shut, heart shattered…. And he feels a soothing touch, a familiar touch, dainty fingers weakly treading through the absolute mess his hair has become. He looks up, and see’s Fleur’s smile. Tired, weak, yet alive. Hoping beyond hope, he kisses her. And she kisses him back.
He cant stop his tears. Yet at this point, he doesn't want to.
- BAD END (not really):
Harry’s search takes too long. The Coven gets to Fleur. Four years after the failed ritual, Fleur lives with her emerald eyed, blond haired daughter, married to a man she believes she loves, the nephew of a member of the coven.
Yet the bond is forced, and hangs on by barely a thread.
Liberal application of memory alterations, some very impressive spellwork, and vigilant observation by the Coven has led to Fleur living in France, detached and distant from her family and her friends. Appoline and Gabrielle are prevented from meeting her, and no one from her old life knows where she is.
The memory alterations have locked away her memories of Harry, of their love for one another, of their time spent with each other.
One day, as she plays with her four year old daughter in a park near her house, Fleur’s eyes spot a handsome young man, standing in the shadow of a tree, watching them through vivid green eyes, eyes so much like those of her daughter.
He seems hauntingly familiar, but Fleur cannot for the life of her remember why.
From that day forth, she sees him again and again. Watching her, and her daughter, a soft smile on his face. Harry can't believe it. He’s found his love, his firebird. Yes she’s bonded, yes she’s forgotten him, but she’s alive. And she has a daughter. A daughter he knows to be his. Yet the Veela have come to know that he’s there.
And they’re determined to keep him away.
Yet, they’ve never truly gone up against Harry Potter when he’s focused.
He is going to get his love back. He is going to hold her again, hold their daughter in his arms, hold them close and tell them he loves them.
And nothing is going to stop him. Nothing.