The Aftermath
A/N
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Fleur awoke the morning of Boxing Day from an uneasy sleep, the blissful ignorance of what had happened the night before shattered by the realisation that she hadn't simply dreamed she had kissed Harry. Her heart sunk at the plethora of emotions that plagued her; worry, guilt and even fear. It had been her first kiss and probably his too and she had taken it from him, lost in the moment as she had been.
She remembered the feeling all too clearly, the desire to hold him close, to lose herself in him, and she had done just that. She remembered vividly the warmth of his touch and softness of his lips as he returned her gesture, eliciting the same tingling that made itself known once more as she lay in her bed reflecting.
She shot to her feet, shaking her head of the thoughts. It was wrong to enjoy it and she shouldn't allow herself to think of it in such a way even if it did conflict with how she felt about it.
Harry was younger than her and she should have known better.
She sat on the edge of her bed and released a deep breath, the guilt of what she had done starting to eat away at her.
She had no right to do what she had. She had stolen his first kiss, had done so without thought of the consequences in the moment.
" Merde," she muttered.
As much as she wanted to hide from him to preserve her shame, she knew couldn't. She needed to speak to him, to apologise, just something so that he would not think badly of her.
Hurriedly, she dressed and left the carriage, aware that her family would be arriving today to collect her so that she could spend the remainder of the Christmas holidays at home, but not before she spoke to Harry.
In truth, she knew not what she would say to him. Did she tell him it was a mistake, that it should not have happened? Should she apologise for what she had done and hope he could forgive her? She simply didn't know but she had to see him, to see that he was okay. She did not want him to be experiencing the same turmoil that she was or feel traumatized by what had happened.
He had left quickly also, had said nothing and left her where she stood recovering from whatever had happened between them.
She entered the castle only to realise that she had no idea where she would find him. Much to her relief, however, the halls were empty as she headed towards the charms' corridor, remembering where it was when Harry had shown them around on the evening they had arrived. She didn't know where Dumbledore's office was so decided to seek out Harry's head of house to see if he knew where he could be found.
She came upon the office and knocked, wondering if the man would be in there during what should be the school holidays.
"Come in," a squeaky voice answered.
She pushed open the door and found the small man sat behind his desk, evidently having been hard at work for some time marking papers.
"Ah, Miss Delacour, is there something I can do for you?"
"I was 'oping to speak to 'Arry, Professor, do you know where I can find 'im?"
"My apologies, Miss Delacour, but Harry left the castle late last night. He said he had some things to do and he would be back when term resumed in January."
"Oh," Fleur replied, her stomach sinking once more. "Do you know where 'e went."
"I'm afraid I do not."
Fleur nodded and exited the room. For Harry to leave like that, he must have been upset by what had happened. Her guilt only worsened as she arrived back at the carriage and was called into the temporary office of Madame Maxime who looked both concerned and quite angry.
" Would you care to explain this?" she demanded, throwing down a copy of the morning paper on the desk between.
Fleur was mortified by the image on the front showing her and Harry dancing by the lake. Even worse was the headline that accompanied it.
Boy-Who-Lived Seduced by Veela Champion?
by Rita Skeeter
It pains me to break such news during the festive period. Thus far already, the Triwizard tournament has been marred with scandal from the offset with the selection of fourteen-year-old Harry Potter, who, as this reporter firmly believes, was entered against his own will.
Despite this, the young man demonstrated a most excellent showing in the first task, outperforming all three of his elder peers considerably, much to the surprise of others.
But now, it seems that our beloved hero has found himself ensnared by an opportunist, one who perhaps seeks to gain favour or discourage him from replicating his victory in the remaining tasks and eliminating him from contention.
A speculative assumption? Perhaps, but a picture speaks a thousand words. The photo above was taken of the duo during the traditional Yule Ball where the two champions seemingly attended together as a couple, even sharing the dancefloor for the opening of the event.
Upon completing their obligations, they moved into the grounds where they could enjoy a more private affair. They danced together (as seen in the photo) for several hours as witnessed by yours truly who was in attendance to cover the event for what I hoped and assumed would be a standard assignment.
What I did not expect was to come across the two in this position and with the eyes of Harry Potter glazed as he held the girl close for the duration. Having witnessed this, I felt it my duty to investigate further.
" It wouldn't surprise me if she used her magic on Potter," a fellow Ravenclaw student had to say. "No one can control themselves around her, her magic is too strong."
" Do you truly think that even Harry Potter has become a victim to it?"
" Absolutely. Potter has never shown any interest in girls, not until she arrived. I personally think he's been under her spell from the start. Twice he has defended her when she was called out for using her magic. He even put my friend in the hospital wing for her."
It seems to me that our youngest champion has been caught in a trap. I can only implore those heading up the tournament to intervene as soon as possible to ensure his safety and prevent any further undue actions against him.
Fleur was not even angry by what had been written. It hurt that her privacy had been intruded upon, that still, people continued to believe such things about her kind, but she wasn't angry. She felt bad for Harry. He would have to read this. Would he believe it?
" It was nothing like that," she denied firmly, somewhat relieved that their kiss had not been reported.
" I do not believe it was," Madame Maxime replied, "but it is what people will believe that matters, you silly girl. The whole country will believe you have seduced him using your allure, have taken advantage of not only a younger boy, but one of their heroes."
" Do not call him that," Fleur snapped. "He does not like being called a hero."
Madame Maxime sighed.
" Fleur, what is going on?"
" Nothing," she answered. "I asked 'Arry to go with me because he can control himself. That's it."
The woman gave her a look of disbelief but said nothing more. She was not one to delve into the private lives of her students.
" I will see what I can do to fix this mess. I will speak to Dumbledore and whoever else to get them to print a retraction and save face for you and the school. Do not be so careless in the future. Already you are scrutinised. Do not give them a reason to do so anymore."
" I won't."
" Good. Now, you should pack. Your parents will be coming soon, non?"
Fleur nodded and returned to her room to prepare for her departure, dreading when her mother and father would arrive. They would believe there was nothing truthful in the article, but they would be disappointed in her for being caught in such a compromising position, let alone it being photographed.
She finished packing her trunk and closed it as a knock on her door sounded before her father entered.
" Come on, little flower. Let's get you home for a while," he offered sympathetically, clearly having read the attest offering of the Daily Prophet .
She knew her father well. He appeared to be calm but underneath the surface he was boiling and would undoubtedly be planning just how he would react to the article. Whatever he decided would be unpleasant, likely for a certain reporter.
" Where are mother and Gabrielle?"
" They are waiting at home. Your grandmother is there," Sebastien explained.
" And you wanted some time away from them?" she asked amusedly.
" I love your grandmother dearly, but she is too much, especially when she has been drinking wine."
Fleur giggled and nodded as they left the carriage and headed towards the gates, apparating to the Ministry of Magic where they would get the international portkey to France.
Pointing and whispers followed them as they made their way through the atrium, her father glaring at any brazen enough to even consider making a comment, his usually warm eyes cold. It was not often he was angry, but his temper was something to behold when he lost it. Only once had she seen it for herself when she had been younger and a man had begun harassing her mother. Her father had tried to handle the situation calmly until a wand had been drawn on him. In the blink of an eye, the man was down, screaming in agony as her mother did all she could to prevent her husband inflicting more damage.
It was one of the memories that had stuck with her, terrified her but equally made her feel safe. He had always been there for her also, though he thankfully never had to resort to such measures yet.
With it being Boxing Day, not many people were travelling, and they managed to secure their portkey quickly which dropped them off at the arrival point in France. Exiting the building there, they apparated away for the final time and Fleur arrived in the grounds of the Delacour home, happy to be here but also still guilt-ridden. What if Harry returned to talk to her whilst she was away?
Entering the house, she had barely made it a few feet in before Gabrielle had thrown her arms around her in greeting, stammering out her gratitude for the present she had received.
" Gabby, where is your mother?" Sebastien asked.
" Mother and Grandmother are in the kitchen," the younger girl answered sweetly.
Fleur followed her father into the room on the other side of the house, finding both women sat at the table drinking tea.
" Come child, come and give your wonderful grandmother a hug," the older woman requested upon spotting her.
Fleur did so and wrinkled her nose at the strong-smelling wine permeating from her.
" Grandmother! You have not been drinking already?"
" Already? I haven't stopped," the woman laughed. "When you get to my age, sleep is boring. I will do enough of that when I am dead."
" Maman! Do not be so crude," Apolline chastised.
" She'll outlive us all," Sebastien huffed as he took a seat and stared at his eldest daughter, ignoring the challenging smirk of his mother-in-law as he removed and resized a newspaper from his pocket. Placing it on the table he sighed. "Before I act, you need to explain this to me, Fleur. I need to know what this is."
" What do you mean?" Apolline demanded as she snatched up the offending article.
Fleur could only hang her head as her mother read it in silence and handed it to her grandmother to do the same. Astonishingly, the woman cackled earning a glare of disapproval from her daughter.
" It is ridiculous," Apolline declared. "'Arry has not been ensnared by her. I know you do not believe this, Sebastien."
" Of course, I do not believe it," he bit back. "We all know that 'Arry is not affected enough by it for that to happen, but it does not look good. Fleur, you need to speak. You both look far too comfortable in this picture."
Fleur chanced a glance at the image, wiping away a tear that broke free from the conflicting emotions. She looked so happy in the photo in his arms, so content and yet she felt so awful about what she'd done and her own bliss she'd experienced in that moment.
" Oh, Maman, I have done something really stupid. What is there is not the worst of it."
" Gabrielle, go and get dressed," Apolline instructed, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Reluctantly, the girl left the room, knowing better than to argue with her mother.
" What happened?" Apolline questioned.
" I don't know. We went to the ball and we danced. It was horrible in there. Everyone was staring and we went away and danced by the lake."
" Just like that?"
Fleur shook her head.
" Non, he bought me a flower and he was really sweet. He said he wanted me to remember the ball forever so that not all my memories are bad."
Apolline smiled unwittingly.
" When I said the flower wouldn't last forever, he enchanted it."
" He enchanted it?" her grandmother interjected.
Fleur nodded and retrieved it from her pocket where she had put it when packing. She handed it to her grandmother who nodded appreciatively.
" This is very skilled magic. It was just a flower before?"
" Yes," Fleur confirmed. "He said that it would stay warm as long as I remember that night. He performed a ritual to make it last forever and even enchanted it so it would be unbreakable."
" What a brilliant young man," the older woman commented.
" What else happened?" Apolline broke in.
Fleur hung her head once more.
" I kissed him. When he walked me back to the carriage, I just didn't want any of it to end and it just happened. I didn't mean for it to and now he left because of me. I shouldn't have done it."
" Did he stop you?" her grandmother asked.
" Non, he did not, but I should not have started it. One second I hugged him and then my lips were on his."
" Then I don't see the problem. You are two teenagers who kissed. Is that not what you do?"
" He is fourteen, grandmother."
" And in a few years, that won't matter. If you spend your life listening to people like this," she growled, shaking the newspaper frantically, "you will be a very miserable person, Fleur."
" He is 'Arry Potter, grandmother. It is not like it would be with anyone else."
" Why does that matter? Has he disrespected you? Has he listened to this rubbish?"
Fleur shook her head.
" Non, he has been very sweet and defended me, that part of the article is true. He's not like the others."
" Non, he is a good boy. He has his own issues, but he has been good to Fleur and very respectful to us," Apolline added.
" So, you have met this boy?"
" Oui, he had dinner with us after the first task."
" Then I still see no problem with what you did. The only people who should matter are you and him, Fleur. Forget about the idiots and let them believe what they will. Do you like him?"
" I don't know," she groaned. "I've not looked at him that way, not until we started dancing. There's something about him."
" Well, you must feel something for him to lose control like this," her grandmother continued. "If you do not like him, is it pity? Does he feel like a brother?"
" Non, I do not pity him! He is a brilliant wizard, even with everything he has been through he is the only person who has never judged me for what I am."
Her mother and father nodded their agreement.
" Then you should talk to him and forget the rest, little flower."
" It is not the time for that, grandmother. We have the tournament and he will be in school for another three years. I will be leaving in June and we will both move on with our lives."
The older woman chuckled.
" Then don't, it is your life. Why would you listen to someone older and who has experienced much more than you?"
" You are not helping, Maman," Apolline chided sternly.
The older woman shrugged.
" I was trying to. You should at least talk to him about what happened. If you both agree it was a mistake, then you move on, but then at least you will know and not spend the rest of your time avoiding each other or much later wondering what if."
With her final piece said, she left the room shaking her head irritably.
" I will do what I can about this, but I don't know what good it will do. I imagine when 'Arry learns of it, he will not be happy. If we are lucky, he will know a way to deal with it, yes?"
Fleur could only nod as she took the warm rose from the table and left the room, wondering just where Harry was now and if he was thinking of her.
(BREAK)
Harry released a deep breath as he lowered the sofa to the floor of his newly completed living room.
For the week he had left the castle, he had spent his time replacing and erecting wards around his property. For the first few days at least, it had distracted him. When he had finished as much as he could for the time being, he decided to shop for furniture and ended up purchasing anything he thought he would need.
For four days, he had toiled away in each room, arranging and rearranging furniture until he was satisfied with the outcome, and now he was finished.
" Do you feel better now, Harry?" Tom asked.
The boy had ignored the voice for the best part of the week, not wanting to discuss what had transpired at the ball. He had experienced a maelstrom of emotions over the passing days, settling finally on exhaustion from overthinking.
"Shut up," he muttered.
Tom sighed.
" You cannot just run away from your problems. I know it makes you uncomfortable, but you must speak about them. It is not healthy to bottle them up, let alone flee across the continent to run away. I have taught you better than that."
"What is there to say? What happened shouldn't have happened. We had a moment of weakness and got carried away."
" So, you regret it?"
"Yes, no…I don't know," Harry groaned. "Either way, it was stupid. I don't have time for girl problems. I can't involve anyone else in the mess that I have to deal with."
" It saddens me you feel that way, Harry. Your whole life should not revolve around Voldemort. There is so much more for you to experience. It could be years before he returns. You shouldn't put your life on hold for that eventuality."
"What else can I do?"
" Do you like her?"
"I don't mind her being around. She's not like everyone else."
" What do you mean by that?"
"It's just…different. She's smart and she's funny in her own way."
" You have a lot in common."
"Not really," Harry denied, "and it's not something that is up for discussion. I can't afford to think about things like that. It's best left as it is."
" And what about what she may want?"
Harry laughed at the question.
"She is not interested in me like that and as I said, it is for the best. The last thing she needs is to be associated with me."
" And the last thing you need is putting your life on hold when you could have at least a modicum of happiness," Tom snapped. "I know what you felt, Harry, how happy just forgetting about everything for a while made you. Why would you deny yourself that?"
"Because one day, probably soon, I will be murdered because of a stupid prophecy. I will not take her down with me."
" DO NOT SAY THAT! I DID NOT SPEND ALL THESE YEARS TEACHING YOU, NURTURING YOUR TALENT AND KEEPING YOU ALIVE FOR YOU TO JUST GIVE UP!" The voice took a few calming breaths and continued. "It hurts me to hear you say things like that, for you to quit on yourself. I believe in you, Harry. I know you can do this, and it would only help if you had something worth fighting for other than vengeance."
"That sounds like something Dumbledore would say."
" Then for once in my life I agree with the old fool! Why are you so opposed to something that could make you happy?"
"Because anything that could make me happy can be taken away, Tom. I've lost enough already and don't think I have it in me to lose much more. That is why things are best left as they are. If I allow myself to care for her, it will end badly for her."
" I still think you are making a mistake by not talking to her about it. Do you not think she should make decisions about her own life?"
Harry said nothing as he retrieved his egg from his trunk and inspected it. He had a few days before he returned to the castle and it would best be spent focusing on the clue, especially since Tom continued in his refusal to help him.
(BREAK)
The Dark Lord read the article that Wormtail held up for him to see, amused by the image of Potter dancing by the lake with the Veela. If he had indeed been taken in by her magic, he was weaker than he first thought. The paper was not a new one, over a week old now but he could not exactly take out a subscription and it was seldom he could be left alone. As much as it pained him to admit it, he needed constant care in his current body. It had once belonged to a babe and needed sustenance more often than was convenient.
He sighed as he glared at the rotund man before him.
"I do not understand why this is important, Wormtail."
"The g-girl m-my l-lord," he stuttered irritatingly. "She c-could be used."
Voldemort shook his head.
"Tell me, Wormtail, what do you know of the Delacour family?"
"Nothing, m-my lord."
"Nothing. From what I remember, they are a very influential family in France. Were the daughter to be harmed, the entire country could all but declare war on us. We are currently not able to defeat them and magical Britain, you fool. The girl must not be harmed under any circumstances. Make sure that Crouch knows of this."
"Of c-course, m-my lord."
The Dark Lord watched as he scuttled away, disgusted by the cowardly man that he relied upon. Both were a liability; a coward in the form of Pettigrew and an unhinged lunatic in Crouch.
Soon, however, the more competent would be returned to the fold and he would no longer have to subject himself to their company, something he looked forward to dearly.
(BREAK)
Terry sat a safe distance away from the Whomping Willow, liberally casting warming charms on himself to fend off the early January cold. He couldn't wait for spring. For too much of the past four years he had been cold, and it had only become bearable when Harry had taken mercy on him and taught him the charm during third year.
The very same boy was why he found himself in the grounds this evening. For the past week, people had been discussing his relationship with the French champion, had made a considerable number of disparaging remarks towards her and him, though few would have done so and Terry had been quick to remind his housemates of. It had worked for the most part but had not deterred the idiots like Davies and Chang who just seemingly never learnt.
Terry, however, didn't care for any of them. As far as he was concerned, they would all get what they deserved. He just wanted to be the first to greet the boy upon his arrival so that he could explain what had transpired in his absence.
Harry, he knew, would be furious but he deserved to know. Ever since Skeeter's article had been published, it had become the only thing the other students discussed, and it had not been helped by the disappearance of the duo. Some had speculated that they had run away together, others that Fleur had kidnapped Harry and even a few that claimed that she was pregnant with his child.
He shook his head. Perhaps Harry was not so wrong when he openly declared that people were idiots.
After the need for a few more charms and stretching his legs to rid himself of a particularly unpleasant bout of pins and needles, he spotted Harry entering the grounds and he stood to intercept him.
"It's a bit cold to be lurking around out here, Terry."
"Well, I thought it's only minus three degrees, why don't I sit in the grounds for two hours waiting for you to come back?"
"And why would you be waiting for me?"
Terry simply handed him the newspaper.
"You can imagine what that lot in there have done with this."
Harry narrowed his eyes before shrinking the article and placing it in his pocket.
"Thanks, Terry," he offered gratefully. "I will deal with this."
Terry could only watch as his friend left the grounds and vanished leaving him chuckling and unsurprised that he could apparate.
Whatever he was doing, it would not likely end well for someone. If anything, Harry would not act unless he was certain of the outcome and even Terry was unsure at how much influence he held in the palm of his hand, but being who he was, it was much more than most could ever hope to have.
(BREAK)
Harry arrived at the offices of the Daily Prophet and took a few breaths to calm himself. He was beyond anger, though he hid it behind a veil of poise and composure. He pushed open the front door and walked into the reception area, the woman working behind the desk startled by his appearance. When she realised who he was, her eyes widened.
"I'm here to see Miss Skeeter and whomever the editor of this rag is," he informed her.
"Miss Skeeter and Mr Cuffe are both unavailable at this time," the woman responded with practiced ease.
"Then I will wait until they are," Harry returned. "I would suggest contacting them, however. My patience is very limited at the moment."
"They are not due to return until the morning. We do not take kindly to threats. I want you to leave or I will call the aurors."
"You would only be doing me a favour if you did. Believe me, Miss Skeeter will come, especially since her freedom is at stake. So, be a good little desk jockey and fetch her."
The woman frowned at the lack of effect mentioning the aurors had and huffed petulantly as she tapped her wand on something Harry could not see under the desk.
"What is it, Janet?" a gruff voice demanded.
"Mr Cuffe, erm, someone is here and is demanding to see Miss Skeeter and yourself."
"Tell them I'm busy."
"It's Harry Potter, sir, He seems to think Miss Skeeter will be very interested in meeting with him."
A loud sigh could be heard over the strange intercom.
"Very well. As it is Mr Potter, I'm sure I can clear my schedule," Cuffe answered in a mocking tone.
Harry took an immediate disliking to him, his rudeness and sarcasm doing him no favours.
It was a few minutes later that the door behind the receptionist opened and a portly, well-dressed and middle-aged man emerged looking irritated that whatever work he was doing had been interrupted.
"Mr Potter," he greeted with a forced smile offering his hand.
"Are you Cuffe?" Harry questioned, ignoring the gesture.
"That would be me," the man answered, a deep frown marring his features at the abruptness.
"Excellent. I'm here to make a formal complaint about Miss Skeeter and inform you that she is in fact an unregistered Animagus. I have more than enough proof to see her in Azkaban for a very long time and likely yourself for being a party to her crimes. Judging by the stupid look on your face, you were certainly aware of it. I imagine Madame Bones will be very interested in speaking to you both very soon," Harry said before turning to leave. "I do wonder how many stories she has managed to produce using her illegal approach. I imagine the DMLE will be very busy investigating for the foreseeable future. I'd hazard a guess that they'd be very keen to administer veritaserum to any that may be involved."
"Whoa, there's no need to be hasty, Mr Potter," Cuffe blustered. "If you step into my office, I'm sure there is a way that this can be resolved without involving any other person needlessly."
"I thought you would see it my way. I bet your secretary is glad she didn't send for the aurors now, isn't she?" Harry returned with a malicious grin.
He was not in a forgiving mood and both Cuffe and Skeeter would soon find that out for themselves.
(BREAK)
Fleur awoke in the carriage for the first time in well over a week, her time at home having been needed with everything that was hanging over her here. Despite this, she had tried to enjoy herself, tried to spend time with her family without showing that anything was bothering her. That was a lie, of course. Day in and day out, and with each minute drawing nearer to her inevitable return, she was unhappy. She was unhappy with how things had been left and even more so at the intrusion on her private life from the Skeeter woman. As such, she had experienced a myriad of emotions during her hiatus from the castle, mostly hurt and anger.
There had been times she wanted to hide herself from the world and drown in her own tears and others when she had wanted to burn the woman for what she had done. Had she not taken it upon herself to write the article, she would not have dreaded returning to the castle so much nor the prospect of facing Harry. He too was a very private person and would certainly not appreciate what had happened.
She had thought of him, more than she would ever admit to any. She wondered how he had been since the ball, what he had been doing with himself and even if he had thought of her, the latter occupying her mind more often than the others.
She dressed whilst she tried not to focus on how much he had been at the forefront of her mind or the conversation she'd had with her grandmother shortly before she left home once more.
FLASHBACK
She had managed to endure another New Years Ball hosted by her mother with all the grace that would be expected of her and a smile that did not reach her eyes. She had been polite and respectful to her father's colleagues and even danced with the man himself as she did every year, doing her utmost to not think of how different it had been dancing with Harry, how intimate and warming it had been, passionate even.
As much as she enjoyed dancing with her father, what she had shared with the boy was not even comparable.
Without too much difficulty, she had escaped the festivities and returned to her own room soon after midnight with the intention of sleeping, only to be disturbed by a knock at her door.
Knowing that it could only be a member of her family as the wards around the property kept others out of this part of the house, she opened it and found herself faced with her grandmother who entered without prompt.
" We must talk, child. Before you go back to school, there are things I must say to you."
Fleur closed the door behind the woman and sat on her bed as her grandmother stared at her for a moment before sighing.
" First, I want to apologise for when you first came home. It was wrong of me to question you and interfere. It is what my own mother did when I was your age and it wasn't until I was much older that I realised how true she had spoken. I do not wish for you to make the same mistakes that I once did."
" What mistakes?" Fleur asked.
" Pierre was older than me by a few years. He was sweet and I took him for granted. It was not until he walked away from me that I realised just how much he meant to me, but it was too late. He went to fight in the war and never came back. I wrote to him and told him I missed him and that I would wait for him to return and we would marry. I don't even know if he received my letter."
" Oh, grandmother, that is terrible," Fleur comforted as she stood and put her arm around the emotional woman.
" I eventually married your grandfather, but I never forgot Pierre, never stopped wondering if he read my words. Even now I feel his loss and I do not want the same for you, little flower. We veela are passionate creatures, we bond with those we care for and we carry those bonds with us forever. Perhaps it is that we are seldom understood or that it is simply our nature, but it will not be often you feel strongly for one outside of your own blood. When you do, it will always be there some way and will stay with you as Pierre has with me. That is why you must know your feelings, Fleur. I do not wish to see you make the same mistakes.
Fleur nodded.
" Do you mean like a magical bond?"
Her grandmother frowned and shook her head.
" Non, it is purely emotional, how they make you feel."
" Oh. It's just that with 'Arry, it felt like magic, almost like it was my magic that drew me to him."
Her grandmother smiled.
" That could just mean your magic is compatible or that your magic is comfortable with his and his yours. Magic does not force people together or create magical bonds. It can feel that way, but non, whatever you feel comes from here," she explained, placing the flat of her hand in the middle of her chest. "Think about what I have said before you make any decisions, little flower."
She left the room then and Fleur was certain she saw the woman wipe away a tear.
END FLASHBACK
She finished dressing as Marie and Fae arrived, both giving her a questioning look as they entered the room, evidently unsure of what to say to her.
" How are you?" Marie asked.
Fleur shrugged. She didn't know how she felt. The guilt was still there as were the words of her grandmother and even some anger.
" How has it been here?"
" Not good," Fae answered honestly. "There's so many rumours about you and 'Arry."
Fleur sighed and nodded.
" Well, I have to face it some time. Better now than delaying it any longer."
She exited the carriage as she braced herself with the two girls following. She was not expecting a warm welcome from any in the castle, but she hoped that they would leave her be at the very least.
As she had expected, all eyes turned to her as she entered the Great Hall, though they were not as accusing or damning as she had prepared for. Frowning lightly, she took her usual seat at the Ravenclaw table and a newspaper was slid in front of her causing her stomach to sink.
She looked up towards who had put it there to find Terry smiling at her encouragingly, his cheeks as pink as they always were when she was in his presence. He nodded towards the paper and she picked it up to read.
The Boy-Who-Lived Responds
By Barnabus Cuffe
Dear readers,
It is likely that you will remember the Boxing Day edition of the Daily Prophet where it was claimed that our very own Harry Potter had been unduly bewitched by the Beauxbatons Triwizard champion, Miss Fleur Delacour using her veela magic. This has in fact been proven false by the boy himself who sought me out personally upon his return to the country this very evening to set the record straight. He had this to say.
" Any who believe that I have been influenced or ensnared by the Beauxbatons champion is a fool. The students at Hogwarts have seen me interact with her regularly and I am mostly unaffected by any unintentional magic she may exude. To suggest that she has bewitched me is ridiculous and serves only to fuel the disgusting stereotype that veela are creatures that seek to do such. Perhaps the idiots who believe this should educate themselves about them instead of listening to the drivel that even our own ministry spouts about them. There is a book written by a Madame Giselle, a veela, that is readily available in all bookstores. Give it a read and stop being a bunch of prejudice bigots. And as for any that wish to question my own ability to resist such magicks, I would remind them that I am the only one who managed to resist the effects of the Imperius Curse and am a registered Occlumens. It is no secret, that information has been registered with the Ministry for a very long time now."
Having shared a conversation with Mr Potter, it is undoubtedly been proven beyond doubt that the report printed in the Prophet has been proven false and we extend our unreserved apologies to Mr Potter and Miss Delacour for what has occurred.
Further to this, Miss Rita Skeeter, the journalist responsible for the article has been suspended for one year from her position but will remain under contract with ourselves. She will issue a formal and public apology for the aspersions cast on the character of Miss Delacour and for intruding upon the privacy of herself and Mr Potter. It is certainly not within the remit of the Daily Prophet to report on the personal lives of students, and again, we apologise unreservedly for this and I offer my personal assurances that this will not happen again.
Along with our apologies, all profits made from the Boxing Day edition have been donated to the Lycanthropy Research Centre at the behest of Mr Potter as a gesture of goodwill on our part.
"Well, 'e didn't 'old back," Fae commented, having read the article from the seat next to her.
"'ow did he manage this?" Fleur questioned.
"I m-might have t-tipped him off," Terry answered. "I waited f-for him to come back and showed him. I thought he'd want to do something about it."
Fleur gave him a grateful smile before she was nudged by Marie who nodded towards the door where Harry was entering with a very pale Rita Skeeter. Without pause, he led her to the front of the room and spoke a few words to Dumbledore before gesturing for her to speak, the students having fallen silent when her presence was noted.
She cleared her throat and addressed the room.
"I'm here to offer my apologies to all of you for the article I had printed. I wrote it without thought for the harm it could cause, and I apologise. I jumped to the wrong conclusion without proof, and I am sorry, especially to Miss Delacour for any damage done to her reputation."
When she had finished, she looked towards Harry who simply nodded at her dismissively and she took her leave as quickly as she could, followed by the boy who said not a word to another person.
Fleur raced to catch up to him and found him climbing the stairs leading to the first floor.
'Arry!" she called as she followed the steps towards him. "Thank you, for whatever you did. You didn't 'ave to do that."
He gave her a sad smile as he shook his head.
"I won't have your name dragged through the dirt. You did nothing of what she accused you of."
Fleur nodded as she met his eyes and quickly looked away. It was a dangerous thing to do for her, as already proven.
"'Arry, I want to apologise…"
Harry cut her off with a wave of his hand.
"Let's just put it down to the heat of the moment," he said, offering her an unconvincing smile, "the same as we did before."
Fleur swallowed deeply, feeling her heart sink into her stomach at his words but nodded, nonetheless. If that was what he wanted, who was she to deny him?
"Okay," she agreed.
"It's probably best if we keep our distance. We don't need to give any reason for people to actually believe the crap Skeeter wrote."
Again, she nodded, unable to find anything to say.
"Good luck in the tournament, Fleur," he offered, the smile he gave as forced as the one she felt grace her own lips.
"You too, 'Arry," she whispered as he walked away.
With her appetite all but gone, she left the castle with her stomach tied in knots and the words of her grandmother playing over in her mind.
" I do not want you to make the same mistake I made…"
The first tear escaped as she laid on her bed and clutched her pillow close to her chest to soothe what she was feeling.
" It's too late, grandmother," she choked.
(BREAK)
"Sirius! Get in here, you'll want to see this," Remus called from the kitchen.
His childhood friend and been fuming for over a week after the article had appeared. He had spent much of the time swearing vengeance against Skeeter and the prophet.
Any attempt to contact Harry had been unsuccessful and he'd had to stop the man storming up to the school and making things worse several times.
"Unless it is an announcement of the death of that bloody woman, I'm not interested," Sirius growled as he entered the room.
Remus handed him the newspaper and the man's visage brightened considerably before he broke down in a fit of laughter.
"He gave the gold to…"
"I know," Remus chuckled.
Sirius breathed a sigh of relief, this being the first time in a week his face had not been marred with a scowl.
(BREAK)
Sebastien Delacour arrived in Diagon Alley intent on some retribution for his daughter and family name. He had conferred with his lawyer, had explored all available avenues to him and had been left frustrated. As the Prophet was a foreign paper, there was little he could do, but that didn't mean they wouldn't get a piece of his mind at the very least. A threat from someone of the ICW would certainly get their attention.
He was loath to use his position for personal reasons, but for his daughter, he would. The paper needed to understand that his family were not to be taken lightly and he would do whatever was necessary to protect his daughters.
It was when he was passing a newspaper vendor on the way to the offices that he read the blown-up headline of the day displayed on the stand. Frowning, he paid for a copy and began to peruse the article and shook his head.
How Harry had done it, he did not know, but he could not deny that he appreciated it more than he could put into words. The boy was proving to be quite the young man both magically and in matters of apparent diplomacy.
Returning to the apparation point, feeling considerably lighter, he vanished and reappeared at Hogsmeade, determined to talk to him and thank him personally for the efforts he had made on behalf of Fleur.
Upon his arrival to the school, he found the gates to be locked and tapped them with his wand. This would undoubtedly alert whoever monitored the wards, most likely the headmaster in this case.
He waited for several moments until the tall figure of Madame Maxime could be seen approaching along with Dumbledore by her side.
"Sebastien," the man greeted him warmly, "What can we do for you today?"
The two were of course familiar and on reasonable terms from their years working together as part of the ICW.
"Albus, Olympe," he returned, "I was hoping to speak to 'Arry Potter. I believe 'e 'as earned my gratitude."
"Ah yes," Dumbledore replied knowingly as he opened the gates with a flick of his wand, "we have just been discussing him ourselves. Come, join us in my office and I will send for him."
Sebastien nodded and followed the duo into the castle. After walking for a few moments, they arrived at an odd statue of a gargoyle.
"Wine Gums," Dumbledore said, and the statue sprung aside to allow them entry to a hidden staircase.
"Still enjoying the muggle sweets, Albus?" Sebastien questioned.
"Indeed. I find them much more palatable than our own. At my age, it is more challenging to subdue a chocolate frog to eat. It becomes rather tiresome."
Sebastien laughed as he was offered a seat in the large office.
Dumbledore stroked the plumage of his phoenix as he scribbled a note on a piece of parchment.
"Could you take this to Mr Potter, please?"
The bird trilled and vanished in a flash of fire, returning a moment later to its' perch, grooming itself.
"I imagine he will be along shortly."
True to his word, a knock on the door sounded a few minutes later and Harry entered and took in those in the room with a look before taking a seat between himself and Madame Maxime.
"You have my apologies for the disturbance, Harry, but both Madame Maxime and Mr Delacour would like a word with you."
The boy nodded and turned his attention to him first.
"I wanted to thank you, 'Arry, for whatever you did to 'elp Fleur with the Daily Prophet . I was going to take action myself, but you 'ave made that unnecessary, so, thank you. I am grateful that she 'as you 'ere."
Harry looked decidedly uncomfortable as he shook his head.
"It is me that should be apologising. If she hadn't been around me, it wouldn't have happened in the first place."
"Non, 'Arry, it would 'ave 'appened either way," Sebastien denied, noticing the undercurrent of sadness that plagued the boy more than ever.
Harry shrugged.
"Well, it has been dealt with. That's all that matters."
Sebastien nodded, watching him closely. The sadness was not such an undercurrent as it usually was. It was rather obvious to see now.
"I wanted to thank you also, Mr Potter," Olympe broke in, garnering Harry's attention. "What you did was very selfless and you 'ave my appreciation. I do 'owever 'ave my concerns about your relationship with my student."
"Whatever relationship they 'ave is none of your concern," Sebastien interjected irritably.
Before Madame Maxime could respond, Harry spoke.
"It is not something you have to worry about. I have told her that it is best that we keep our distance to avoid anything like this happening again."
Madame Maxime nodded as Sebastien shook his head.
"Why would you do that, 'Arry?" he asked.
The boy looked guilty and far from happy with what he had done.
"Because if she associates with me, it will only happen again eventually. It's not fair for her to have to deal with what I have to. I'm sorry, but it is the right thing to do."
"And what about what Fleur wants? Did she agree to this?"
Harry nodded.
"She did," he confirmed. "I do not want to see her get hurt because of me," he said ominously before heading towards the door and hesitating briefly as he took his leave.
Sebastien turned in shock towards Dumbledore who was staring at the door, his eyes bereft of the usual twinkle that adorned them.
"What is going on, Albus?" he demanded.
The old man sighed.
"Harry has much to deal with in his life. I believe that he is under the impression that he must do it alone."
"The tournament?" Sebastien asked disbelievingly.
Dumbledore shook his head as he released a deep breath.
"He worries me greatly with how independent he is. I suppose an explanation is due. What we discuss must be kept between ourselves and off the record. The ICW will refuse to aide us as they did before but you at the very least should be aware."
"Well, what is it?" Sebastien questioned irritably.
"The night Harry's parents were murdered, and he survived, Voldemort did also, in some capacity."
Madame Maxime scoffed.
"Impossible," she denied.
"Since Harry has arrived at Hogwarts, he has survived two further encounters with him. In his first year, he was possessing our Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. Were Harry not so gifted, he would have been killed in this very castle by him. I arrived in time to prevent that."
Sebastien felt his chest tighten at the thought. Dumbledore was not one to spin fantastical tales, and certainly not with something so serious.
"And the next?"
"During his second year, the Chamber of Secrets was opened and several students were injured. With the help of another student, Harry discovered where the chamber was and led me and other staff members there to rescue a student that had been taken in. Were it not for him, it is likely we would have all been killed in the attempt."
"The Chamber of Secrets?" Madame Maxime probed.
"A hidden chamber in the castle created by Salazar Slytherin himself. It is said to house his monster that would be unleashed on the students it deemed unworthy."
"But it was Voldemort attacking the students? How?"
"The girl that was taken was also possessed through a series of unfortunate events. She worked under the will of the man and is still recovering from the trauma she experienced."
"And the monster?"
"Have you taken note of the armour that Harry wore during the first task?"
"Miss Delacour claims that it is… Basilisk skin," Maxime replied, her eyes widening in realisation. "Surely not!"
"It is unfortunately true," Dumbledore confirmed. "Were it not for Harry's parseltongue ability, she would have gotten loose and it is unlikely we would have survived to tell the tale. I believe he still visits her and keeps her company from time to time," he finished with a smile.
"There's a basilisk in the school?"
"Not in the school itself, no, but somewhere that no other person other than Harry can reach. She is quite safe and enjoys having her nose petted."
Madame Maxime balked as Sebastien released a deep breath.
"The snake must be more than a thousand years old," he muttered. "How big is it?"
"I would hazard a guess at around seventy feet judging by the skin we found," Dumbledore answered thoughtfully.
Sebastien leaned back in his chair. Harry would be a formidable foe with a beast like that at his disposal. How the boy was, however, began to fall into place. He was preparing himself for another attempt by the Dark Lord. Everything he did, everything he worked towards was fuelled by the thought of that monster coming back to finish what he had started.
Sebastien felt for him more than he had any other. No wonder he was so closed off and had done what he'd done. He did not want his daughter to be caught up in any plot concocted by Voldemort.
"And you think he will return?"
Dumbledore nodded.
"As much as I wish it were not so, it is inevitable. Voldemort is a resourceful and exceedingly excellent wizard. He will find a way."
"Merde. 'e will come for 'Arry," Sebastien sighed.
"Indeed. That is why Harry works as hard as he does. Not only is he himself exceptionally gifted, he is determined and dedicated."
"And what are you doing about this? 'ow are you preparing him?"
"I am taking necessary steps to prevent his return as much as possible. When the time is right, I will ensure Harry has all that he needs to survive."
Sebastien shook his head in disbelief.
"Would it not be safer for 'im to be away from 'ere? Merlin, Albus, I will take the boy. 'e would be safe."
"I have no doubt that he would, but Harry will refuse. He will not put your family in danger. Already he is separating himself from your daughter because he feels that just associating with him is more than enough to attract unwanted attention."
"Well, should 'e not attend a different school?" Madame Maxime huffed. "It is already been proven that 'e is not safe 'ere."
"The topic has already been raised by his godfather," Dumbledore sighed. "If I am to be frank with you, it is unlikely he will require schooling beyond next year. I know both Minerva and Filius are intent on him sitting his NEWTS for charms and Transfiguration this year and Alastor believes he will have no issues in obtaining an OWL and NEWT in Defence Against the Dark Arts. I am yet to discuss his other subjects with his Professors, but it is unlikely there will be any objections to him sitting his OWLS at the very least and NEWTS next year for some."
"And then what?" Sebastien pressed.
"He will likely be offered an apprenticeship under myself and Minerva for Transfiguration. She has expressed an interest in him, as has Filius. He is already demonstrating the capability to achieve his mastery in both subjects. He could remain in the castle for the duration or perhaps stay with his godfather. The house is very secure."
Sebastien nodded, though he was unconvinced. The castle was not safe.
"Very well," he replied as he stood. "You 'ave given me much to consider, Albus and I thank you for being candid."
Dumbledore offered him a bow.
"I cannot express the need for discretion as much as I already have. It is paramount that none become aware of this."
"I understand," Sebastien replied, not that anyone would believe him if he were to speak of it.
He did not doubt what he had heard, as far-fetched as it sounded. The years of Voldemort had been dark in Britain and would likely become so once more. His concern, however, was not the Dark Lord, but laid with Harry.
It was unfair for the boy to be in his position, and for what? He had been but a babe when the man had come for him. What could he have done to incite such a need to see an end to him?
It mattered not. What did matter was that Harry was kept safe and Sebastien would do all he could to ensure it, for Harry and for his daughter who would undoubtedly be distraught if anything were to happen to him.
He left the castle vowing to have a conversation with Harry in the near future, when he had perhaps had time to think about things and how to approach this new problem. He needed to consider all possibilities and it was likely that Harry too needed time to realise that he did not need to do this alone.
"Merde," he huffed as he left the grounds and began the return journey home.