The Yule Ball
A/N
Okay, before we begin I would like to announce that the first podcast is up on my Pa tr£ 0n page and this one is completely free for everyone to access, so do go and check it out.
It is 90 minutes of myself and Darkness Enthroned discussing various aspects of his work (A Cadmean Victory) and fanfiction in general.
One of these will be uploaded weekly with other writers and maybe even some of you guys also. I'm currently in talks with several authors who are very keen to be a part of it.
Along with this, I have begun uploading companion commentary pieces to this fic explaining my motivations for certain character actions and the story itself with some of my own random thoughts thrown in, so do check it out and it would be a massive help if you could spread the word to any forum you are a part of regarding the podcast. I really want this to grow and it gives you all the opportunity to interact with us writes more on a different platform, ask us questions and really bring this community together in another way.
Anyway, I have made my plea, so please check it out and enjoy the latest offering of 'A flower for the Soul'.
"Would you care to repeat that, Mr Borgin?"
The man was nervous, his top lip perspiring as he nodded and stared towards a face he could not see.
"The b-best offer I could get was 800,000 Galleons," he stammered.
Harry nodded thoughtfully, his insides dancing at the fortune the man had amassed on his behalf.
"Then you have done very well. I did not expect you to be so…resourceful," he finished with a gentle hiss.
Borgin deflated, releasing a deep breath.
"H-how much are my services worth?" he asked.
"For a job well done and for your discretion, I believe you have earned 3000 galleons. That is fair, don't you think?"
"It is fair renumeration," he readily agreed.
"Excellent, then our work together for now has come to an end," Harry declared.
He spent the next few moments carefully counting out the man's cut of the deal, a job made quicker as the gold had been sorted into rolls of 50 galleons.
"I may very well have further use of you, Borgin," Harry said ominously before he exited the shop, considerably wealthier than he had entered it.
" He managed to get much more than I anticipated," Tom commented.
Harry nodded.
From a single vial of venom, he had all but secured his future, though it was likely that quite the sum of what he had would be spent on a suitable property, furnishings and security.
He needed a home to begin with, having grown tired of sleeping in hotels for the past two years and it needed to be somewhere isolated. He had no intention of having neighbours.
" Perhaps somewhere warm?" Tom suggested.
" I think that would be best," Harry agreed.
" Better," Tom praised.
Since he had started to become competent in the mind arts, he had worked on conversing with Tom non-verbally, which had proven to be one of his most difficult and frustrating tasks to date. Tom couldn't simply read his thoughts unless he projected them in a certain way, and it took exemplary control to be able to do so coherently. It was something that had likely never been done before, perhaps even a development in Occlumency. Slowly, but surely, he was getting better at it, though often Tom would laugh at him for the garbled words.
" Any ideas where we should go?"
" There are many beautiful places out there, Harry. Why not keep an open mind and look more at properties than places? I do think a bit of sun wouldn't go amiss for you, however."
Harry didn't dislike England, far from it, but he'd spent much of his life cold. Whether it was his months spent in the castle or living in the draughty cupboard, the coldness had seemingly gone hand in hand with his isolation.
He was content with the latter but the Dementors had made him crave sunnier climes and the British weather could become irksome. It would be nice to have somewhere to escape where it would no longer be a problem.
He arrived at his next destination and began perusing the offerings on display in the window. He knew nothing of purchasing a property, but he doubted it would be as easy of handing over his gold and it being signed over to him. There was likely an arduous process involved, and he was keen to begin right away.
Seeing a few potential houses, he stepped into an alley a short walk away and removed his hood. Drawing his wand, he began transfiguring his features so that he would not be recognisable. Once he was satisfied, he downed the aging potion he had concocted a few days prior and conjured a mirror to take in his work.
The changes he'd made were subtle. He'd lightened his hair and changed his eyes from green to blue. He certainly did not recognise himself so it was unlikely that any other would. The aging potion had made him appear as though he was in his mid-twenties rather than the fourteen years he had lived.
Nodding satisfactorily, he stepped out of the alley and into the estate agency to make his enquiries.
"Good morning, sir," a paunchy redhead greeted him jovially. "What can I do for you today?"
"I'm looking to invest in overseas property. I see that you have a few options available and was hoping for some more information."
"Of course, of course," the man replied with a series of nods, rubbing his hands together in hope of a profitable discussion. "Are there any that have taken your fancy?"
"The Sicilian villa, maybe."
"Ah, quite the home. It has only been on the market for a few days. Would you be interested in viewing it?"
"I would," Harry confirmed.
"Are you available to do so now? I have a portkey that can take us."
Harry nodded, seeing no reason not to.
"Fantastic! I just need a few moments to lock the shop and we can be off."
Harry watched in fascination as the man waved his wand and muttered under his breath to bring the wards to life. He could feel the magic humming around the room. It must be quite the scheme to have such an effect.
"Security is a must in this business. It is as lucrative as it is attractive to the unsavoury," the man explained. "Here, we house international portkeys. They don't just hand them out to anyone, and sufficient measures must be in place to ensure they are not stolen."
Harry nodded his understanding as the man removed a trunk from his pocket and enlarged it. The lid popped open after another series of charms had been cast and a drop of blood was placed on the lock.
"Quite the ingenious creation," the man commented noticing his interest. "This can only be opened if the blood is drawn from a willing person keyed into the magic of the box. Since I am the only one, only I can open it."
"That is quite a piece of magic," Harry agreed.
The man smiled.
"It was an invention by my grandfather, rest him. It has been a part of our business for decades now."
"He must have been quite the wizard."
The man nodded.
"That he was, but we are not here to discuss him. Take hold," he requested, offering one end of a large key he had removed from the trunk.
Harry did so and felt as though he had been hooked through the navel as he was transported from the shop.
"Bloody hell," he huffed when he felt his feet land on solid ground once more.
"No, portkey travel is not my preferred method of travel either," than man chuckled.
It took a moment for Harry's stomach to settle before he took in where he had landed.
The first thing he noticed was the pleasant climate. It was warm here, likely more so outside, but not overwhelmingly. The house he found himself inside was sizable, as most secluded one were. The floor was constructed from mahogany and the walls the exposed bricks used to build the home. It was bereft of any furniture but there was potential for it to be homely.
"There are two reception rooms, six bedrooms and three bathrooms. There is a basement that was once a wine cellar but can be used for whatever purpose you see fit," the man explained as he began leading him through the house. "You have an ocean view from the terrace and the property stretches to the sea in this direction and to the forest in the other. It is, however, far from any local amenities with the nearest village some eight miles away. Not that it is much of an issue, of course."
"And what about warding?"
"The original stones are still here from when the house was built and are ready to use. The existing wards can be transferred but are a little outdated."
That would certainly save him some gold. Ward stones were rather costly.
He gave a final glance around, trying to imagine the rooms he had seen furnished. There were more than he would ever need, but he could find uses for them.
"I suppose the only thing left to ask is how much?"
"You must understand, a property of this quality will seldom become available, not with this level of privacy." Seeing that Harry was waiting for an answer the man sighed. "It is currently priced at 120,000 galleons."
It was a sizable price but around what he was expecting to pay and certainly not too much for something that could keep him safe when Voldemort eventually returned.
"And how long would it take to process everything?"
"Once payment has been received, it can be yours within a week," the man informed him.
Harry nodded, surprised it would be such a short wait.
"And can this be done discreetly?"
"It can," the man confirmed. "People don't get hung up on who is buying so long as the money is good. Many clients from both sides opt for discretion, that is why they pay me to carry out the transactions. The benefit of buying abroad is that you do not need to register it with the British Ministry either. The only possible trail is via bank statements and I can assure you, that is not something I tend to share with others."
"Alright, I'll take it. I will pay you in gold so that my name need not appear on anything."
"Only the deed," the man corrected, "and that shall remain in your possession without the need of the seller seeing it once the gold is received."
"Which I will collect from yourself in seven days' time," Harry insisted. "If that is everything, we have a deal."
The man practically ripped his arm off as he shook his hand with a bright smile, the commission he would make being rather generous.
(BREAK)
With the preliminary rounds of duelling over and her position in the next round secured, she could no longer ignore the fact that the ball was fast approaching and that she did not have a date. Not for lack of potential suitors, there had been many of those that had accosted her in the corridors and even during mealtimes, much to her embarrassment and consternation.
It was the same every time. A boy would approach, their eyes glazed over and they would stutter out a barely coherent offer to escort her to the ball, resulting in each being denied, not out of shallow reasoning, but for her own sake. She did not want to be taken to a ball by someone who had no real interest in her, that had only asked because of what she was so that they could posture around the hall smugly with her hanging off their arm as little more than an afterthought.
She was worth more than that, more than being a trophy to show off or a conquest to be had from those that would be brazen enough to try their luck.
She could never be what they wanted her to be.
" What will you do?" Marie asked.
She had already secured a date in the form of a seventh year Hufflepuff boy who had stopped them a few days prior to ask. It had been rather sweet really. He had even brought her a flower that the girl had taken to wearing in her hair.
" If I didn't have to, I wouldn't go," Fleur answered honestly.
" Well, 'Arry is not going," Marie pointed out.
" Well, 'Arry doesn't care if he gets in trouble. Madame Maxime would not allow me to miss it. You know that."
" No, she would not," Marie agreed.
Fleur huffed frustratedly. This was one of the few instances that she wished people had better control around her, or at worst, she could rein her magic in enough so that it would not cause these kinds of problems. Her magic, however, was always ambient about her, a constant, yet passive part of her.
" I do not know what to do. It would be easier if I could just not go. How does 'Arry get away with it?"
" After what I've seen, I wouldn't try and tell him what to do. Have you apologised to him yet?"
Fleur shook her head.
" I haven't seen him since the duels. That was more than a week ago."
Marie giggled.
" You don't seem happy about it."
Fleur huffed.
" I just don't like these things hanging over me," she replied somewhat heatedly.
" And he's the only person you've met close to our age that can talk to you without stammering."
Fleur rolled her eyes.
" It has nothing to do with that. He's…different, yes, but not because of that. There's something about him that I can't quite work out."
" I think there are lots of things about him that none of us can work out."
Fleur could only nod her agreement.
(BREAK)
It was a chilly morning, but Harry had wrapped up well for a trip into the forest with little more than a bag and a collection of vials as Tom had instructed. In more than three years being at the school, he had yet to visit, though Tom had been quick to point out that it is forbidden for a reason. According to him, an assortment of rather dangerous creatures resided within the trees and it was not a place to tread lightly.
Today, however, was an exception. The trip was to gather parts of magical creatures that would assist him with his winter solstice ritual, something that Tom had not explained to him thus far. All that had been mentioned was that it was dangerous, but the benefits that would be reaped would be worthwhile.
" So, what am I looking for?"
" Just search for anything that would have come from a creature. Fur, horns, teeth and anything similar. Check any bushes you come across. Things often get snagged on them but stay alert at all times."
It was certainly an odd thing to do. Nonetheless, he began walking a path through the trees, checking for any sign of any beasts that may have passed through. He found several footprints but little else. He was becoming frustrated until he came upon a large clearing where some of the surrounding trees had been scorched black.
"Dragons!" he exclaimed.
The dragons used during the tournament must have been kept here, which seemed to be a foolish idea when he pondered it. What was to stop them burning down the entire forest in a fit of rage?
Checking the area carefully, he found a familiar bonze scale under some browned leaves that had once been part of the armour of the dragon he had faced. Ignoring the memory of facing it, he placed the scale in a vial and finished searching, finding a green and red to match.
" They will be excellent for the ritual. Especially the Horntail one."
" Why?"
" Because you defeated it. Magic does not forget such things."
" You speak as those it is alive."
" Is it not?"
Harry paused as he considered an answer.
" It embodies everything in our world, so I suppose it would be."
" My thoughts exactly. Magic is not something that can be separated and studied nor truly understood. It exists, it is wondrous, and we would not be without it. To me, it was always the closest thing to anything resembling a god."
Harry nodded. What Tom had said made sense. From the very beginning, he had been taught to nurture it, to appreciate it and to never take it for granted. It was a gift to possess it and one that should not be squandered.
" Perhaps moving deeper into the forest would be best."
Harry did so and came across a few strands of silvery fibre caught on a protruding branch after a few minutes of searching.
"Veela hair?" he questioned.
Tom laughed within his mind causing him to frown.
" Unicorn tail hair, Harry," he corrected. "A rather valuable find and magically powerful."
" Diggory's wand is made with it."
" Indeed."
Harry continued foraging as he made his way further into the trees, finding nothing more than a few rodent skulls and had just about given up after another two hours when the silence was interrupted by the sound of pounding hooves.
"What the hell is that?" Harry questioned as they drew closer and seemingly came from all around him.
" Wand down, Harry. They will not harm you unless they feel threatened."
Before he could press the issue, a large horse-like creature burst through the thicket, follow by several others who ran in circles around him clutching bows. Slowly, they came to a stop and stared at him speculatively, their demeanour unnerving him.
"Harry Potter," a large dappled grey greeted him in a deep voice.
Seeing them stilled, Harry could see that they were in fact half man and half horse, the torso being the former.
"How do you know my name?" he asked.
"The stars tell all," the centaur answered cryptically. "They have had much to say of you."
Harry frowned in response, not liking that they knew of him when they lived in a forest that he had never set foot in until this very morning.
"What do you want with me?"
"There is nothing that one of your kind can do for us, but the stars have led us to you. It does not happen often, only when a threat is present against our world. You, Harry Potter, have an important part to play. Your path, however, is not set. Mars is exceptionally bright."
"What does that mean?"
Another centaur stepped forward, this one appearing to be younger than the first.
"War, Mr Potter," he whispered. "It will come soon, and you must be ready, for if you are not, the world you know will cease to be."
The first centaur gave the other a chiding stare.
"Firenze speaks out of turn, but he speaks truth. Your task will be a difficult one, and the ending, uncertain. Currently, it does not favour you, but you are already taking necessary steps. It is this that we have been sent to aide you with."
"How can you help me?" Harry asked, ignoring the rather bleak words of the creature.
"You seek betterment, you seek to reap what you have sown, and we have what you need."
"And what do you want in return for it?"
"Nothing. We do as the stars will us and they brought us here to give you these," the elder replied as he removed a cloth sack from his shoulder and handed it to Harry. "Within the sack are items you have been seeking and many you would not have found. The forest has its' secrets and it is best kept that way. May the stars favour you, Harry Potter. The fate of many rests upon your shoulders."
With that, they vanished, leaving behind a very perplexed teen in their wake.
"What the hell was that about?" he grumbled.
" The centaurs are mysterious creatures, Harry. Their words are not given to wizards without cause. I would remember them well."
Harry simply shook his head as he began the return journey, the mutterings of the creatures making little sense to him, though their predictions were quite foreboding.
Thankfully, it didn't take long to find himself free of the tress, not having to stop to forage sped him up considerably. He entered the castle to find that lunch was in full swing so opted to head back towards his room.
" It would do you well to see what they have gifted you," Tom advised.
Harry too was curious to see what he had been given. The sack, though small had quite a weight to it.
He entered the room he had created as his bedroom and placed it on the desk, moving some books he had been reading from the Black Library to one side to make space before taking out the items one at a time.
The first thing he removed was a chunk of horn. It was white and unyielding, the bottom part jagged where it had broken off.
" I believe that is unicorn horn," Tom broke into his thoughts. "Perhaps a text for reference might be useful. I know how to defend myself from creatures but am no expert in the physiology."
Harry asked the room for a comprehensive guide to magical beasts and was provided with a sizable compendium that appeared on one of the bookshelves with a gentle thump. He retrieved and thumbed through it until he came to the section regarding unicorns.
"It looks like it," he agreed, comparing what he held in his hand to the horn of the creature sketched.
He set it aside and reached into the sack, pulling out a long, grey feather. It took a little longer to find what it had once belonged to, but he decided it could only have been a Hippogriff. Griffins and other magical birds were usually brightly coloured, the latter having smaller feathers also, so it was unlikely to be either. Griffins were also very rare and habited mountainous places in warmer parts of the world.
Harry had never seen a Hippogriff but remembered Hermione mentioning having studied them in Care of Magical Creatures and one being put to death because of Draco.
He set it next to the unicorn horn and removed another item from the bag, this time a clump of thick yet soft fur.
"Bloody hell, they have this roaming around in there?" he questioned himself as he stared at the almost demonic feline hybrid in the picture.
What he had was undoubtedly a piece of mane taken from a Chimera. It may well have come from a regular lion, but lions did not roam the lands of Great Britain and never had.
Shaking his head and pleased he had not encountered it, he placed it with the horn and feather and dived into the bag once more and withdrew a large fang.
" That comes from an Acromantula," Tom informed him confidently. "I have come across them."
Harry nodded as he set it down with the other items. It couldn't be anything other than the fang of a large spider, perhaps even a mandible.
He found that only two pieces remained when put his hand in the bag and removed both; one a completely, milky, white eye and the other a large claw.
The eye, he learnt, came from a Thestral, another horse-like creature, though this was rather skeletal, dark and had wings like a bat.
The claw had in fact come from a Griffin and he fond himself wondering if there was a herd living within the forest or merely a lone beast. It was something he was never likely to find out, however. He had no intention of going back in unless necessary, having discovered just what dangers lurked there. He had no desire to face off with a chimera or any other creature for that matter. He'd leave that to the experts to deal with.
" What you have is ample for what it is needed for," Tom spoke once again. "Even more so that it was gifted willingly by another creature. It will only add credence to the request you will make of magic itself."
"What request?"
" The time is not right, not yet. You will know when we begin the preparation."
Harry huffed as he stood and removed the vials he had gathered himself and placed the scales and unicorn hair on his desk before withdrawing his map.
"They're in their again," he groaned, noting the dots of the Weasley twins in the kitchens.
He had taken to eating his meals in there as much as possible since Halloween, not wanting to deal with the general population of the school and the staring and whispers. Recently, however, the redheaded twins had been there, and he would rather deal with the former than those two. He didn't dislike them, but he had little tolerance for their dramatics at times, especially when he had other things to focus on.
As far as he was concerned, Fred and George were okay in small doses, just not anywhere near food. They seemed to be in the process of testing some pranking items and he would not trust them to not make an attempt on him.
A seventh year Slytherin had fallen victim to their work, according to one of his serpentine spies, and had spent several days in the hospital wing vomiting.
He shook his head as he left the room and headed towards the Great Hall. He was hungry and would need to eat before beginning his training for the day.
He was grateful that he caught the back end of the lunch time rush, most tables now only sporting a few students that had decided to eat later. Taking his seat at the Ravenclaw table, he piled his plate with some chicken and vegetables and settled in to eat.
It was when he had finished his meal and was exiting the hall that he was stopped by a hand resting on his shoulder, tensing him. He had been working through what drills he would complete and had been caught off guard, though he certainly didn't appreciate anyone putting their hands on him at the best of times.
"Are you okay? You look as though you were not 'ere?" Fleur spoke.
Shaking away the attempted invasion of her magic, he nodded.
"I'm fine, I was just thinking," he replied, stepping out of arms reach of the girl. Her magic was much stronger when she made physical contact, and though it was quite warm and strangely comforting, it didn't sit well with him.
"Oh, well, I was just wondering If we could speak? I've not seen you around for a while."
"I've been busy," Harry responded with a shrug. "I can't be living in hotels forever, can I?"
"So, you took my advice?" she questioned smugly.
"It needed to be done either way," Harry pointed out, his lips forming into an amused grin.
Fleur raised an eyebrow at him and shook her head.
"I just wanted to apologise for what I said to you at the duels, when I thought you were trying to 'urt Fae," she reminded him. "I overreacted and I'm sorry, and for snapping at you when that pig insulted me."
Harry waved it off.
"It's fine," he assured her. "We all have our pride and looking out for your friend is admirable. I didn't aim to hurt her. She was good and I had to up my game a little."
Fleur offered him a grateful smile and he noticed how worn she looked.
"You look tired," he commented. "The egg giving you problems?"
Fleur shook her head as she sighed.
"Non, just an 'eadache. It is the ball."
"It can't be that bad. I've seen at least four people ask you and I'm not even around."
Fleur snorted.
"Non, 'Arry, it is not me they want to go with. 'ow can they when none of them 'ave ever spoken to me? They see only a pretty face and think it is all I am, and then the allure gets them, and they all act the same."
Harry nodded his understanding.
"Like Davies?"
Fleur nodded.
"Not as bad, but yes."
"You could always not go, I'm not."
"Madame Maxime would not allow it and I do want to go. It is a big part of the tournament and I don't want to miss it. If I didn't 'ave to dance, I would go alone. Unless you would go with me?" she asked her eyes widening at the thought. "You can control yourself and you are not going with anyone else."
Harry shook his head frantically.
"No, definitely not. I couldn't think of anything worse than going."
Fleur looked stricken by his words.
"Not because I wouldn't want to go with you," he added. "Anyone would be lucky to, but I've never been to anything like that before. I've never even danced."
"Oh, that is easy, 'Arry, you 'ave good footwork when you duel. I can teach you. Please, it is the only way I can think of where I could go and 'ave a good time."
Despite her plea, Harry shook his head and was ready to deny her when Tom intervened.
" You should do it, Harry, not for you but for a girl who has spent her life shunned by her peers for what she is. You could do something nice for her, give her the good memories of the tournament that you will unlikely have. It is not something she will ever get the chance to do again. If you can look her in the eyes and say no I will not mention it again.
To his detriment, he did and could see much of the same sadness he felt reflected in them along with an unwanted loneliness. He would look a fool but for the right reasons. He could live with that and give the girl something he had been denied his entire life.
With a laboured sigh, he nodded.
"Okay," he agreed.
Her mouth opened in surprise and she brightened as she squealed.
"Thank you!" she exclaimed as she threw her arms around him and pressed her lips to his cheek.
Realising her mistake, she stepped away mortified by her actions.
"I'm so sorry, 'Arry, I didn't mean to."
A blushing Harry waved her off
"It's f-fine," he stammered. "You got caught up in the moment, let's leave it at that."
Fleur nodded.
"Thank you, 'Arry," she said more reservedly. "I will meet you 'ere tomorrow after dinner and we can't start your dance lessons."
The girl left the castle with a spring in her step and Harry could only walk away, his head shaking and cheeks still red.
" What the hell have I got myself into?"
" Nothing you can't handle," "Tom assured him. "You never know, you might enjoy it and you even got your first kiss, albeit not a proper one."
"Shut up," Harry growled, feeling himself flush once more.
The sudden intrusion of her magic from the gesture had overwhelmed him, had made him lose himself for a moment in the warmth that spread throughout him.
He couldn't help but think he had made a mistake in accepting her proposal. He couldn't dance and he clearly didn't have as much control around her as he had thought.
(BREAK)
" Okay, you need to explain how that happened," Marie demanded.
Fae nodded her agreement as Fleur sighed.
" It just kind of happened. I apologised and we ended up speaking about the ball. The next thing I knew, I was practically begging him to take me."
Marie giggled and Fae raised a single brow at her cousin.
" And he agreed, just like that?"
Fleur shook her head.
" Non, he did not want to go. I think he just feels sorry for me and now I feel stupid. How pathetic am I?"
" I think it is nice," Mare replied. "You get to go the ball and enjoy it without having some fool posturing around all night."
" I feel like I forced him," Fleur responded with a shrug. "He does not like things like this and he said yes. I feel like I didn't give him much of a choice."
She groaned as she threw herself back onto her bed.
" He doesn't seem the type to go because he felt sorry for you," Fae offered. "He wouldn't do something he didn't want to."
" Maybe he did feel a little bad," Marie broke in, "but that wouldn't be enough to make him do it. Why don't you just ask him?"
Fleur snorted.
" And say what? So, 'Arry, why did you agree to go with me? Is it because I put you on the spot or because you feel bad for me? He probably thinks I'm pathetic enough already."
" Now you're being stupid," Fae chided. "If you do not ask him, you won't know. Maybe he didn't wat to go because he didn't think anyone would want to with him?"
" I doubt that," Marie giggled. "Everywhere I go I hear people asking about who is 'Arry Potter's date. Imagine their faces when they see it is you."
" They will think I ensnared him."
" No, it's obvious to everyone he isn't affected by you like the others."
" What a mess," Fleur sighed. "I think I should just tell him it is a bad idea."
" Then he will think you are stupid," Fae huffed. "Just for once, forget about everyone else and what they will say and think. You spent the whole of school doing what you could to hide away and not be noticed and now you are a champion. Enjoy it because it won't happen again. When June comes, you will never have to see any of these idiots again."
Fleur gave the girl a smile of gratitude.
" I'll try. I will speak to 'Arry and see what he says too. I have to know he doesn't feel forced."
" And you will have to tell Madame Maxime," Marie pointed out. "I do not think she will like that you are cavorting with another champion."
Fleur nodded, she doubted she would, but it was either this or go alone.
" I should probably write to Maman to tell her too. She wouldn't like to find out from a newspaper."
She didn't mention that she had kissed Harry on the cheek nor practically threw herself into his arms. They certainly didn't need to know those details and jump to the wrong conclusion.
(BREAK)
"That is very good, 'Arry," she praised, surprised at how quickly he was picking up the steps.
She allowed him to guide her around the classroom they had commandeered for his dance lessons. It had only taken him half an hour to get to this stage, following along as she counted aloud and explained where his feet needed to be. By the time they would finish, he should be comfortable enough to get them both through the dance in front of the three schools.
"Yeah, right," he muttered.
She stopped mid-turn, his eyes finding her own questioningly. It was one thing to be under his gaze from a distance, but up close like this, it was easy to see the intensity within them. She couldn't deny that it was as mesmerising as it was unnerving. She had never taken notice of him aesthetically, at least not in a personal way. Fae and Marie had made comments about him being cute on occasion, but they were wrong. Cute would suggest that he appeared as a young boy, someone that was little more than endearing or had a youthful, even cheeky twinkle in his eyes. That wasn't Harry. The smouldering stare of his was rather alluring like her own magic in a way. There would be no shame in any admitting they could drown in those depths.
She coughed as she released him, shaking herself from those unexpected thoughts.
"Sorry," she offered. "I know this is 'ard for you but you are the first boy I 'ave danced with other than papa."
"I could use a break, my feet are throbbing," Harry moaned in response.
A somewhat awkward silence fell between them and the conversation of the previous day she had shared with her cousins surfaced. She had written to her mother to explain what had happened, again leaving out the part where she had spontaneously hugged and kissed him on the cheek. She would at least get a reprieve of a few days before she received a response.
Madame Maxime, as expected, had not been best pleased with her choice of date, though she understood her reasoning. She too was rather perplexed by the level of control Harry could exercise around her.
"'Arry, why did you agree to go to the ball with me?" she blurted.
He frowned at her and shrugged.
"It was bothering you that you didn't have anyone to go with and it is something you wanted to do. It would have been pretty poor of me to say no when I could change that for you."
"So, it wasn't because you pitied me?"
He chuckled and shook his head.
"No," he denied. "Look, I'm not the friendliest of people. Life has taught me that most will only ever look out for their own interests, that they will use you as a stepping-stone to get what they want and will manipulate you to benefit them. I didn't see any of that from you. If anything, over the years, I like to think that I have become a good judge of character and you didn't ask me because there was something else you wanted other than to go to the ball and remember it fondly."
She nodded, his words warming her more than she expected any response would. They weren't chosen carefully or spoken to woo her, but truthfully, a seldom act from a boy to one of her kind.
"What did you see then?" she asked curiously.
He shook his head firmly.
"That's not something we want to go into."
"Please," she requested taking hold of his forearm.
She didn't know why she wanted to know what he believed he saw. Perhaps it was curiosity or perhaps she wanted to know how others saw her. Maybe it was that as he denied her request, she caught a glimpse of the pity he had denied feeling.
His head dropped as he released a deep breath.
"I saw that you need a good memory of your teenage years that did not involve your mother, father, sister or those two girls you spend time with. You're lonely, more than you let on and you try to hide it behind a mask of confidence or by being quite haughty with others. Every comment and every stare over the years has chipped away at you and instead of hiding from them, you confront them with that mask in place, pretending that it doesn't get to you, but it does."
"And what about you?" she returned heatedly, not liking how accurate he had been. It made her feel vulnerable and exposed in a way she hadn't before.
"I said I didn't want to talk about this," he reminded her.
"Because you have no idea what it is like to be me," she bit back. "You do not know what it is like to be a veela, to be judged like I 'ave and 'ated for what you are."
"You're right, I don't. I'm not a Veela but I am Harry Potter, the boy who killed a dark lord before I could walk properly, famous for something I couldn't remember. I came into the wizarding world at eleven with people throwing themselves at my feet, trying to earn my favour and with all these expectations of me because of exactly what I am. It was long before then that my view of the world became jaded when my own family locked me in a cupboard for almost six years before I broke free of my own accord. By then, it was already too late. You're right, I do not know what being a Veela is like and I didn't claim to, but I know what loneliness is better than anyone, I know what it is like to have no one to turn to, to only have yourself to rely on. I'd hazard a guess and say that I know that better than even you."
Fleur was shocked by the vitriol and calmed herself. It was the most he had ever said, and it appeared that she had struck quite a raw nerve to provoke it.
"I'm sorry, 'Arry," she offered sincerely, "I just didn't want you to feel like you were forced to coming with me because you felt sorry for me."
He took a deep breath and shook his head once more.
"I do feel sorry for you, but not for those reasons. I feel sorry that you have to put up with the crap that you do just because of what you are. People are too stupid to even consider that there is more to you than that bloody allure or too jealous to look past it. That is what I feel sorry for, not what you are, but what it does to you."
"People will always be like that, 'Arry."
"People are idiots."
She giggled as she nodded.
"Not you though. Maybe it is because you can understand what it is like," she mused aloud. "And I am sorry for you," she added, "for all the stupid people who don't get to see 'ow brilliant you turned out despite all of what you went through. I bet your parents would be proud of you."
Harry shook his head as he removed the photo he kept of them, always, from his inside pocket.
"From what Sirius has said, they would hate what I am. Neither of them was like me."
Fleur looked at the photo of the young man and woman and the babe between them. He looked just like them both but had gotten his mother's eyes and father's dark, messy hair.
"They look 'appy."
He nodded.
"They were and both brilliant at what they did My father was excellent at transfiguration and my mother at charms. McGonagall told me she hoped he would take her place one day when she decided to retire."
He placed the picture back in his pocket, a wave of her magic pulling him from his thoughts.
"Anyway, maybe we should pick this up tomorrow night."
"Oui," Fleur agreed. "What colour dress robes do you 'ave?"
"None at the moment," Harry replied. "I should probably get some."
"Well, my dress will either be silver or blue. What do you think?"
"The blue will match your eyes," he answered after a moment of thinking. "I'll go and get some robes tomorrow. Blue?"
Fleur nodded as she smiled and Harry took his leave, bidding her farewell with a wave.
It had been a strange evening, one where she had gotten more than she bargained for. It was easy to dismiss him at times as rude or brash even, but it is what he'd had to become to survive. The comment about him being locked in a cupboard had angered her, though it seemed that it was something he had dealt with and likely not the worst. He was hardened because he'd needed to be, but he was kind underneath it all and one that did not take suffering like his own lightly. It had taken a few moments to understand, but he hadn't agreed to go with her out of pity, but out of understanding, out of a need to prevent her feeling the way he probably had his whole life.
More than anything, what she had learned was that Harry Potter was a better person than what he should be after all he had experienced, likely the best she would ever meet.
(BREAK)
" How is she doing?" Sebastien questioned as he skimmed over the morning paper and sipped on his coffee.
His wife smirked at him as she handed him the letter they had received before turning and feeding a treat to the snow owl that had brought it.
" She is going with 'Arry?"
Apolline nodded.
" Well, that is unexpected."
" Non," his wife denied. "It makes sense. He can handle the allure and won't do anything that would make her uncomfortable."
" He wouldn't," the man agreed.
Though he had only met him briefly, he had presented himself well despite his seeming lack of social skills. Sebastien had found him to be a good boy and not one that would upset his daughter.
" I'm pleased for her. She has met someone who has proven that not all people are prejudice against her."
" And she only had to go to Britain to do it," Sebastien grumbled.
" Oui, but she has and that is all that matters."
Sebastien nodded.
" It is good for her, and for him," he added. "For now, at least."
" What do you mean?" his wife asked, a frown marring her features.
" Fleur will be home in June and 'Arry in England. It is not likely they will meet again."
" Oh, my dear husband, I think they might surprise you," she laughed as she kissed him chastely. "Do you think it is likely that our little flower would allow him to just ignore her?"
Sebastien grinned as he shook his head.
" Poor 'Arry, he should never have gotten involved. He has no idea what he has done."
The thought amused him greatly. His daughter would not simply walk away from someone she saw as a friend. It was not in her nature. She would insist on staying in touch and if he ignored it, she would traipse across the continent to give him a piece of her mind. Sometimes, she was far too much like her mother for her own good, though he was pleased she was. Apolline was the calm one in the marriage, but when something irked her, it never ended well for someone. She was a force to be reckoned with, a trait she had gotten from her own mother.
He shuddered at the thought of the older veela. He loved the woman dearly, but she knew how to get under his skin and took every opportunity to do so.
" No, 'Arry," you should have stayed away," he laughed.
(BREAK)
Harry could only stare at the runes he had painstakingly carved into the floor over the past three days, the items he had foraged from the forest and the ones gifted scattered around them sporadically. For good measure, he had added some venom from Serana also and nodded in satisfaction.
His work was as perfect as could be and he was finally ready. Every ritual he had completed up until now had led to this moment, though he was still none the wiser to what exactly that was.
" This was the final ritual I completed before I went a step too far," Tom spoke, "before Voldemort was born from my own foolish meddling with magic I could not comprehend."
" The Horcruxes?"
" Yes, Harry, the Horcruxes."
Harry nodded.
His creations were a sore point for Tom to discuss, his folly and ultimate failing in life. It was where he had faded, and Voldemort surfaced.
" So, what is this?"
" This is a ritual aptly named The Final Judgement, one seldom used throughout history from fear of being found lacking by magic itself."
" That doesn't sound good."
" It is not for those that have been lax or negligent of their practices. You, Harry, are neither. Your final ritual will have you surrendering yourself for judgement. If magic deems you worthy, it will bestow what it sees fit upon you."
" And if it finds me lacking?"
" Your magic will be forfeit," Tom answered simply. "You, however, have nothing to fear. You work, dedication and progress has been incredible to witness. I myself was not close to your ability or potential at your age. I have every faith magic will deem you as such also."
Harry released a deep breath as he shook his head.
" Why all the creature parts?"
" They are also magic manifested as is the castle you find yourself in. The more different types of magic you can be surrounded by, the more open you are to the judgement."
" Makes sense I suppose." He huffed as he shook his head. "Are you sure about this?"
" Completely."
Harry looked upon what surrounded him with trepidation. As he was, he wouldn't be able to defeat Voldemort, and even with the rituals, the man had decades of experience on him. This was truly the only way available to him to even begin to bridge the large gap between them, that or spend his life in hiding, something he was not willing to do.
" Alright, let's do it," he decided, his mind firmly on what the man had done to his mother and father, and what he would try to do to Harry when his inevitable return occurred. "Is there anything else?"
" No, Harry. Proceed when you're ready."
He took another breath as he approached the rune that would activate the scheme, hesitating briefly before pressing the tip of his and against it. He was blinded by a bright flash of white light and fell to his knees as he heard several creatures screeching, roaring and hissing. The influx of magic he felt was incredible, overwhelming him to the point that he fell limp as the darkness took him.
He woke some time later, trembling on the cold, stone floor and after managing to catch his breath, he stood, relieved that there was no nausea this time, though he didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.
" How are you feeling?"
Harry pondered the question. He felt good, though not noticeably different than he had before, other than the tingling feeling his body was positively humming from.
"Tingly," he answered.
" Close your eyes and feel around you with your magic."
He frowned as he did so, his eye opening immediately.
" I can feel the magic around me, really feel it. I can feel mine and others I'm not familiar with."
" That is quite a boon, Harry. Feeling magic is a large part of identifying it. With this, you can learn how to feel for curses and identify what they are. You will even be able to sense approaching spells. It will be easier with magic you have previously encountered first of all."
It was strange having so much awareness of the magic around him, almost as though several things were bouncing off his defences all at once. He slid his wand into his hand but was stopped from casting anything.
" You must allow your magic to settle for a few days. There will be plenty of time to experiment with it, but your body needs to adjust to the changes. I learnt that the hard way."
He frowned but slid his wand back into the holster. The more he considered what he'd done, the better he felt, the more alert of the magic he became. He felt as though there was little he couldn't do, that magic had gifted him beyond any expectation he could have had.
(BREAK)
"Bloody hell! I look like a prat," Harry huffed as he took in his appearance.
He had been assured that the robes he had purchased were the height of fashion, stylish and flattering. He felt as though he had been transported here from the nineteenth century. As far as robes went, these weren't as bad as some others he had seen in the store. At least this one didn't come with ruffled collar and sleeves.
" You look fine, Harry. Now, don't forget the flower and to compliment her on how she looks."
"Shut up," Harry groaned. The days leading up to the ball had been spent receiving advice from Tom about how he should act and what he should and shouldn't do. "What the hell do you know about girls anyway? I didn't think that was a requirement of a would-be Dark Lord."
Tom laughed.
" I'll have you know that I too dated girls in my youth, though admittedly not so much later on."
"I don't want to know," Harry cut in, "and this is not a date."
" You should treat it as it is", Tom advised. "One day, you might want to go on a date. Why put all the effort in to restore your family wealth if not to pass it on to children of your own?"
"I have more pressing things to think about before any of that," Harry reminded him. "Having a murderous nutter after you doesn't exactly make you want to bring a child into the world. Look what happened to me. I will not leave a child of mine to that fate."
" I'm sorry, I spoke without thinking."
Harry waved him off as he snatched up the rose he had purchased at Tom's urging from the desk. He felt ridiculous and knew he would feel even more so as the night progressed. He was not relishing the idea of dancing in front of so many people, despite the fact he and Fleur had practiced a lot over the past week.
Shaking his head, he left his room and headed to the entrance hall where he would be meeting the girl. He arrived to find the area swamped with students and realised he at least wouldn't look so ridiculous after all. His robes were rather flattering compared to some on display.
He ignored the stares, the whispering and pointing of those around him, the other students evidently surprised to see him in attendance and likely speculating on who it was he was waiting for.
"I didn't think you were coming," an amused voice broke into his thoughts.
He turned to find himself facing a grinning Terry with Su Li looped on to one of his arms.
"You look ridiculous," Harry replied, nodding to the robes the boy was clad in. He didn't not really, but it was the best rebuttal he had.
"He does not," Su defended. "I think he looks rather dashing."
Terry blushed as he gave Harry a challenging look.
"Yeah, if you think a spaniel in your nan's curtain is a good look."
Terry laughed and shoved him playfully.
"You won't ruin this for me, Harry. Our robes aren't so different."
"Damn," he grumbled seeing that he spoke true. Their robes were of a similar cut, his blue and Terry's a forest green.
"Who are you waiting for then?" Terry asked, nodding towards the rose he held.
There was no need to answer as Harry felt her presence drawing closer and could see the heads turning as Fleur entered, her long, formfitting dress matching his robes and her hair done up in an elaborate plaited bun. She gave him a warm smile as she reached him, and he held out the flower with no need to think of a compliment as Tom had advised.
"You look beautiful," he offered sincerely.
She took the rose and smiled almost shyly, likely not having expected him to be so forthcoming with such things.
"Thank you. You look very 'andsome, 'Arry."
"You two?" Terry interjected with a laugh. "Oh, I can already see people having a fit about that."
"Shut up, Terry," Harry returned, again ignoring the stares that both he and Fleur were receiving.
"Mr Potter, Miss Delacour, the other champions and their partners are waiting," Professor McGonagall interrupted. "Where are yours?"
Terry practically guffawed, earning a look of disapproval from the stern woman. Undeterred, he spoke.
"As hard as it is to believe, Professor, those two came together," he explained, pointing at the pair before shaking his head. "All jokes aside, I think it's a good idea."
"Well, you are to come with me so that you can be announced as honoured guests," McGonagall explained, fighting the shock that seemed to have come over her. "And you, Mr Boot, move along. You do not want a detention, do you?"
Terry shook his head and smirked.
"I look forward to seeing you dance," he said, offering the pair a bow before walking away.
"I'll get him," Harry vowed.
"That will have to wait. Now, come along," Professor McGonagall instructed.
Fleur hooked her arm within his as they were led away and towards the antechamber they had been in on Halloween night. As the woman had said, Krum and Diggory were both inside with their dates, the latter with Chang and the former with another familiar face.
"Hi Harry," Hermione greeted him enthusiastically with a wave.
"I never thought I would have seen the day that you wore a dress," he replied, genuinely surprised by her presence. "And with the charming Bulgarian of all people."
Krum scowled at him as Hermione giggled uncharacteristically.
"Viktor and I have been spending time in the library together and he asked me here."
"Now Granger, you're not working with the enemy to bring me down, are you?"
Hermione huffed and placed her hands on her hips.
"Viktor is not your enemy, and you're one to talk. You brought one of them as your date."
"You two came together?" Diggory piped up.
Fleur was about to respond when Harry placed his free hand on her forearm.
"Diggory must think he has been left out again. First the dragons and now this. Maybe he wanted us to consult with him and then he could have been Krum's date. No offense, but Hermione certainly looks better in a dress than you ever would."
The Hufflepuff laughed.
"No, you're right there," he conceded. "It just took me by surprise, that's all."
"Me too," Viktor added, his usual scowl in place.
Harry simply shook his head. He didn't know what the boy had to be so glum about all the time, but he always looked as though he wanted to throttle someone.
"Champions, if you please," McGonagall requested, her head poking around the door.
Harry led Fleur from the room and joined the Professor who waited for them to reach her.
"You will enter when your names are called, starting with Mr Diggory and Miss Chang. Mr Krum and Miss Granger will follow and Mr Potter and Miss Delacour last. You will share the table at the front of the hall with the judges. Once the meal is over, you will be instructed to take to the dance floor to open the festivities for the rest of the evening. Any questions?"
When none came, she entered the hall, leaving the doors open. Professor Flitwick had truly outdone himself with the charms work on display. The Christmas trees had been lavishly decorated along with an array of enchanted decorations that glided above the room in the form of various magical creatures. Each table had an ice sculpture as the centrepiece and were draped with table clothes of various, shimmering colours. It was a veritable winter wonderland and was quite the sight to behold.
"It is magnificent," Fleur whispered.
Harry nodded as Cedric and Cho were announced, followed by Hermione and Krum next.
"Are you ready?" Fleur asked nervously.
"Not really," Harry answered honestly. "You?"
Fleur shook her head as they were called forward.
Harry led her gently down the walkway and towards the designated table where the other champions were already seated with the judges. He paid no mind to the stares they were subject to nor the whispering he could hear. He hadn't come for them but for the girl he had on his arm, no matter how out of place he felt.
After what seemed much longer than it likely was, they reached their seats and Harry held out a chair for her before taking his own next to Dumbledore who had Cedric on his other side. Next to Fleur sat Madame Maxime who shot him an appraising look.
"I'm pleased that you changed your mind about attending, Harry," Dumbledore said with a smile, "and that you found yourself the most radiant of companions."
"You were not going to attend?" Maxime questioned.
"There's nothing in the contract that says I have to," Harry replied with a shrug. "As I said from the start, I'd much rather not have anything to do with this tournament, other than the duelling."
Maxime hummed.
"I was very impressed with your skill. Mademoiselle Dupont is one of the best we have at Beauxbatons."
"She is very good," Harry agreed amicably. "She is a testament to your school."
"As you are to yours. Your showing in the first task is not something I expected. You are a very gifted young man, Monsieur Potter. Do ensure that such talent does not go to waste in the future."
With her advice given, she turned away and began conversing with Ludo Bagman.
"That is quite the compliment to receive, Harry," Dumbledore spoke sincerely. "Madame Maxime herself is a very accomplished witch and does not pay them lightly. I believe we were acquainted some years before I received any such praise. Ah, it appears that the food is ready," he announced. "Pork chops."
The plate in front of him filled with the requested food and Harry perused the menu in front of him, unsure of some of the offerings.
"Try the Boeuf Bourguignon," Fleur advised, "it is a very good dish."
"I have no idea what it is let alone how to say it," he snorted.
Fleur grinned as she took his menu.
" Boeuf Bourguignon," she said slowly in her native tongue.
The food appeared on his plate and her smile widened.
"Just because you say it slowly, doesn't mean it helps," he muttered.
"Learning other languages is good," Fleur returned.
"I can already speak parseltongue," he countered.
She tutted.
"Languages other people can understand, 'Arry."
"I am learning another language. Italian isn't as easy as you'd think. The word pizza won't get you very far."
"Italian?" she asked curiously. "What is wrong with French?"
"I don't own a house in France," he whispered, so not to be overheard.
Fleur's eyes widened.
"You got one?"
Harry nodded and checked that Dumbledore wasn't listening.
"I brought it a few weeks ago. I need to get some furniture and erect some wards, but it's nice. Quiet."
She smiled brightly; seemingly truly happy he had gotten himself a home.
"I'm pleased for you, 'Arry. It is not good living as you 'ave been."
He doubted the way he lived would change much. He would still be visiting 'The Hag' and spending time in Knockturn Alley. He didn't want his presence in Sicily known to any so would likely avoid appearing in public unless in disguise to explore the area or purchase food if needed.
He did, however, have to agree that whatever food Fleur had ordered was very good. It was often he ate beef, preferring to stick to leaner meat, but this was proving to be exceptional. So much so, he finished the dish and treated himself to some treacle tart.
Fleur shook her head at him.
"You eat a delicious French meal and then turn to that English slop," she mocked, turning her nose up in the air at his dessert.
"Watch it. You can insult anything you like about my country but not the treacle tart. Have you even tried it?"
"Non."
"Then don't judge until you have. You made me eat whatever that was, so now you have to try this," he demanded, sliding his bowl in front of her.
Fleur looked affronted by the notion but accepted the challenge with narrowed eyes. She took a spoonful of the tart with custard and slowly put it in her mouth before chewing.
"Well?"
"It is not bad," she conceded, "but a little too sweet."
Harry shrugged as he took his bowl back and shoved a large piece of the dessert in his mouth.
When the food had been consumed and the plates cleared, Dumbledore stood and gestured for silence.
"Now that we have been fed, I believe that it is time for our champions to take to the floor for the traditional opening of the ball."
Harry took a deep breath as he stood and offered a hand to Fleur. She accepted it and the two soon found themselves on the dancefloor with the other champions and their partners.
"Nervous?" Harry asked.
Fleur nodded.
"You?"
"More terrifying than the dragon," he replied half-jokingly.
Fleur nodded as the music started and they took their first, awkward, public steps of the waltz, the music rather slow and mournful. Their work was practiced, though both feeling uneasy under the watchful stares of so many eyes on them. Much to their relief, the floor around them began to fill quite soon after it had begun.
"I'm sorry, 'Arry. It felt 'orrible 'aving so many people 'ere."
"That's not your fault and it's over with now. It could have been worse, at least you didn't trip."
"That is true. Thank you for doing that for me."
"We are even now, for the dragon thing and you giving Hedwig some work."
Fleur shook her head.
"I 'ave still been using 'er. You owe me lots more favours."
"Bloody hell, will it never end? I should have bought you an owl for Christmas."
"You didn't get me anything for Christmas," Fleur returned.
"I think you'll find I did," Harry replied nodding towards the rose she had slid into her hair.
Fleur removed it and stared at it speculatively.
"It won't last," she sighed sadly.
Harry pried it from her fingers as he drew his wand and she looked on as he muttered under his breath and waving it around the flower in intricate patterns. After a few moments, he closed his fist around the stem, and it burst into flames. He opened his hand and the stem blew away in a cloud of ash, leaving behind the head that now sparkled gently in the light of the hall.
Harry offered it to her, and she took it, marvelling at the beauty of the piece.
"It is warm."
"It will always stay warm as long as you remember tonight."
She met his eyes, in awe by what he had achieved.
"An enchantment?" she whispered.
"Not all of it. Some was ritualistic magic. I sacrificed the stem to give eternal life to the head after I turned it to crystal. I enchanted it to be unbreakable."
It was a nuanced display of magic, something that people paid a fortune for due to how difficult such a thing was to achieve. The skill to do so should take years to even begin to perfect and should not be something possible for him yet.
"When did you learn to do that?"
"Just now," Harry answered honestly.
"You're quite unbelievable, you know. I don't know anyone else who could just want to do something and make it happen like that."
"I wanted you to remember tonight, to have at least one good memory."
She met his eyes once more and quickly looked away, not being able to trust her ability to not lose herself in them in this moment. It had been difficult enough just dancing when they were alone, now, she couldn't be sure if she wouldn't.
"Will you dance with me one more time, away from everyone else?" she asked.
Harry nodded, offered his arm and led her from the room onto the grounds. A temporary garden had been set up at the front of the castle and was full of students; some talking, others exploring other activities that Professor Snape was doing his best to put a stop to.
Not wanting to involve them in what was unfolding, they walked and came upon the lake a few moments later. Noticing her shiver, he cast a warming charm and conjured several balls of fire that glided around them in a circle.
"Thank you," she said gratefully, the smile she gave him nervous once more.
Seeing no reason to stand on ceremony, Harry took her hand and began leading her in circles amongst the flames, the two of them much more relaxed without the eyes of others on them.
Enjoying the moment, she rested her head on his shoulder, as had become habit when they had been dancing for a long period of time during their practices and sighed contentedly.
She didn't know how long they remained by the water, but no words were spoken, not that such a thing was necessary. She was happy being where she was, warmed by both the flower and his embrace, the chill of the night no longer bothering her.
"It's almost midnight," Harry mumbled in her ear.
Fleur sighed as she raised her head, noticing that felt heavier than normal. Never had she enjoyed something so simple, so much, to where she had relaxed so easily with someone she did not share blood with.
"I'll walk you back to your carriage," he offered.
His arm remained around her shoulders as they walked in the comfortable silence and she allowed herself to melt into his warmth, the orbs of flame that followed them all but ignored. When they reached her temporary home, he released her, and she turned and pulled him into her arms without thought.
"Thank you, 'Arry. For coming with me tonight, for the flower and just…everything."
"You're welcome," he replied.
She looked up and her eyes locked onto his. She froze, the emerald inferno impossible to pull away from as she had feared only a few short hours ago. They were entrancing, working a magic of their own as they drew her deeper into him. It was as though she was no longer in control as she felt her lips press against his, the magic still clouding her mind even after she had closed her own eyes.
She felt him return the gesture, and it was too late for them both. She melted into him, craving him more than the air she would need were she to be submerged into the murkiest depths, only breaking away when her head began to spin from the lightness.
She took in a staggered breath, refusing to end the moment by opening her eyes to the world around her.
"Goodnight, Fleur," she heard him mutter.
By the time she was brave enough to seek him out, he was already halfway back to the castle and entered soon after without sparing her a backwards glance.
Sobering, she felt her heart sink.
" Merde, what have I done?"
(BREAK)
Harry closed the door to his room behind him and sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands.
"I should have waited before I did the ritual," he huffed. "I couldn't fight her magic off. It got me and there was nothing I could do about it. I thought I'd recovered."
" You are recovered," Tom sighed.
" Clearly not. I completely lost myself to her. What the hell was that?"
" That was nothing more than two hormonal teenagers acting on impulse. Her magic had nothing to do with it, Harry. I can assure you, nothing got in here and bent you to its' will."
" But…"
" But nothing. You shouldn't feel ashamed of what happened. It is perfectly normal."
" It felt like magic…"
" It is magic, Harry. Some of the greatest magic you will ever experience."
"Bollocks," he groaned.