Duelling: Finale
A/N
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The sinking feeling he felt at the mere thought of facing her paled in comparison to standing opposite her on the duelling platform. Although he had all but demanded she give him her best and that he would do the same, already, he knew he would not be able to harm her. He had no doubt in his skill but his reluctance to delve into his usual practices could cost him dearly.
She too did not appear to be relishing the moment either. Her eyes were on anything but him, as though she was trying to fool herself into believing that it was not he that she would be locked in combat with. As such, Harry followed suit, his own eyes staring directly over her shoulder, ignoring the glint of her silvery hair as it reflected the early afternoon sun.
For what he could only assume to be a dramatic finale to the round, he and Fleur had been placed last to duel, with Diggory and Duval preceding them. The contest between those two had been very entertaining with Cedric taking a hard-fought win, demonstrating his own capability in transfiguration. Duval, however, had not fallen lightly. At every turn, he had presented problems and proven himself a threat with his brilliance in curses. What he had lacked, that had likely costed him the victory, was defence against a competent practitioner of transfiguration.
Not that it could truly be held against him. Those confident enough to implement the branch in conflict were few and far between. Cedric was one of these few and Harry had felt his respect for the boy grow considerably.
The remaining six duels had been rather lacklustre in comparison and he had little doubt that whoever would emerge victorious between himself and Fleur would eventually face off against Cedric. Whether or not it would be in the final, it was too early to tell. The way that the names were drawn for each round made it impossible to determine.
Still, before he could even consider future duels, he had to focus on the one at hand.
As Karkaroff stepped up to officiate, their eyes finally met across the distance between them and his stomach sunk once more. In truth, he could not think of a worse scenario than the one he was being confronted with, but he was determined not to lose.
Fleur seemingly was of a similar mind as her own eyes, though saddened, held an equal look of determination and Harry knew in that moment that there would be no holding back from her.
" Defeat her, Harry. Fight as though it was any other in front of you. If your relationship means as much to you both as I believe, a lost duel will not come between you."
" We do not have a relationship," Harry bit back.
" Then there is no reason to be reticent."
Harry ignored the voice as he readied himself, his grip tightening around his wand as Fleur also took up her stance.
"BEGIN!"
He found himself on the defensive immediately as Fleur unleashed a wave of spells; a pair of bludgeoning curses, a cutter and a dislocation hex aimed towards his wand arm. He spun away from the first two, ducked beneath the third and shielded the fourth, only for the need to arise for him to avoid a trio of, at best, questionable curses consisting of a rupturing curse, a searing curse and one that would burst his eardrums in a rather painful manner.
The last three got his attention and he looked up to be greeted by an unexpected sight.
Fleur's eyes, though still saddened, were alight with fury and full of tears as she stared at him, her wand moving in a blur as she continued her onslaught.
Once more, he had to defend himself, frowning as to what had provoked such a reaction from her.
(BREAK)
Stepping on to the platform, she had experienced a myriad of emotions. For weeks and months, he had ignored her, and yet, she had told him he was forgiven when he had seemingly seen sense. Looking at him standing but a short distance away had caused those repressed feelings to surface. She had been furious with him, but more than that, she had been hurt.
She didn't want to hurt him, not the way he had her, but she wanted him to feel something resembling what she had. When the command to begin was given, the dam overflowed and she unleashed what had plagued her upon him, her wand working much quicker than her mind.
Before she could comprehend what she was doing, it was unfolding in front of her, the spells she sent his ways ones she would seldom use.
Strangely, Karkaroff offered no warning nor chastisement for her actions and looked on almost gleefully at her actions.
Turning back towards Harry, she saw the deep frown marring his features, his eyes questioning until he offered a nod of recognition. She felt victorious in that she had provoked something within him, his seemingly forever-calm exterior beginning to show cracks, exposing what it was that lied beneath.
There irritation and a little anger, but what prevailed was the sadness she had seen hints of during their time together. Harry was not one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but his eyes showed all when he wavered as he was, though the sadness was different to what she had expected. It was not a sadness born of neglect or suffering but one of longing, one that craved what he felt he couldn't have.
Seeing that hurt more than his ignorance ever could but she was in too deep to stop. She needed him to know just how much he had hurt her, and her words would fall on deaf ears. He would offer the same tired excuses as to why she should not be around him, and ones yet spoken as to why what happened the night of the ball had been a mistake. To her, it was not, and she would hear no differently from him. His eyes spoke all the words he would not and it both warmed and renewed her anger.
She, however, found herself having to defend the rebuttal of the boy.
Returning the favour, Harry fired a string of curses she did not recognise in her direction and she raised a shield to intercept them, each spell smashing against it with a dull thud.
She replied immediately and the two began to switch between attacking and defending. She managed to match him spell for spell for some time, though the need to shield more often began to take its toll. He was faster than her, his movement better and his casting crisper. She scarcely recognised what was coming her way, but her defence had thankfully held thus far.
Peering through the haze of brightly coloured jets of light, his visage remained the same, that sadness he allowed himself to endure still prevailing.
Again, it angered her, and her efforts doubled with renewed vigour as her vision sharpened, bringing his misery into clearer focus.
With an inhuman screech, a bright ball of blue flame careened from her wand and her heart sunk as Harry lowered his own purposely, what he felt not even flickering as her fire scorched his left arm.
" Non, 'Arry," she called as she felt to her knees, the expenditure of energy finally overwhelming her.
(BREAK)
" What the hell is she doing?" Harry huffed internally as he did enough to keep her occupied, his wand working to deflect her attack before sending his own.
" Hell hath no fury, Harry."
" I haven't scorned her!"
" No, what you did is much worse. You have not addressed anything that has happened between you. You already know my thoughts. You reap what you sow."
The voice fell silent and Harry continued the duel in earnest, doing his utmost to ignore the pained glare of the girl opposing him, a feat that was not possible. He was transfixed by her gaze, the hurt and anger within them only increasing the more he nullified her offense.
He could put an end to it if he so wished. Her form was becoming sloppy, her movements laboured and spells weaker, though her will remained strong. For all he had or hadn't done, she wanted to hurt him, the magic she employed leaving him in no doubt.
What he learned was that he had severely underestimated just how much his actions had affected the girl and it was something that did not sit well with him. He had already felt guilty, still carried the burden of loss of something he had never considered a possibility for himself. And yet, what he had endured seemingly paled in comparison to what she had. In this moment, he felt like a monster for depriving her of whatever it was she sought, though he did not know exactly what that was.
It mattered not.
He watched as her eyes yellowed and took on a more avian shape as she screeched.
Seeing her lose control this way was the final straw for him, and he allowed his wand to fall to his side as the ball of flame headed towards him. If causing him pain would end hers, he would endure it, if only to see her misery fade. She deserved that from him.
It hurt, much more than the time Petunia had 'accidentally' burned him with the iron. His robes where the fire hit had been reduced to ash and the skin bubbled, eliciting a hiss of agony from him as his nose filled with the sweet-sickly smell of burnt flesh.
Quickly, he cast a numbing charm on the area and doused it in icy water before he turned his attention back to the girl who was doubled over on the platform, breathing heavily. Her wand was still held, though loosely and it took nothing more than a disarming charm to relieve her of it.
He ignored the call of Karkaroff naming him the victor and crossed the distance between himself and Fleur. Kneeling next to her, he took her hand in his own and her once more cerulean eyes found his.
"I'm sorry, 'Arry."
Harry shook his head.
"You have nothing to be sorry for. Come on, let's get away from here," he suggested noting that every pair of eyes in the stadium were on them.
Whatever Fleur had experienced had left some of her own clothing singed. He conjured a large blanket before wrapping it around her shoulders and helping her to her feet. He began to lead her away when a voice stopped them short.
"Mr Potter? Your arm will need to be tended to immediately," Madame Pomfrey called. "That is if you want to avoid permanent damage."
Harry glanced at his limb and grimaced. Much of the flesh had been burnt in places and it was oozing an unpleasant pus. He would not be able to move it without exacerbating his injuries further.
Nodding his agreement, he turned towards a stricken Fleur and offered her a what he believed to be a comforting smile.
"'Arry I'm…"
He held up a hand to silence her.
"I probably deserved it," he snorted. "Can you meet me at the lake at nine?"
Fleur nodded.
"You will leave my care when I deem you fit to do so," Madame Pomfrey interjected.
"I will be there at nine," Harry reiterated firmly as he followed the matron.
Fleur watched him leave, feeling both better and worse for having vented. She no longer felt the weight of what had plagued her but felt guilty, nonetheless. She hadn't wanted to hurt him, not truly. Now that she had, it didn't feel right. She wanted nothing more than to be by his side and ensure that he was okay.
" What was that?" the voice of Fae demanded as her and Marie arrived.
Fleur shook her head, not wanting or able to explain her actions.
" Madame Maxime is not happy. She is coming this way," Marie explained.
Fleur took note of the enormous woman stalking towards her.
" Would you care to explain just what on earth you were doing?" the woman growled.
(BREAK)
The smell of the salve that had been liberally applied to his arm was much worse than the smell of the burning skin. So thickly had it been smeared, that his arm was no longer visible.
"This will need to be cleaned and reapplied daily for the next two weeks at least," Madame Pomfrey explained. "You are lucky that you will only be left with some scarring."
"Two weeks?" Harry asked, surprised she felt it would take so long to heal.
It was very unlikely that it would. The time spent completing his rituals would see to that.
"You were burned with magical fire, Mr Potter. It will take time for your body to purge the remnants of foreign magic left behind before it can begin to heal. The burn salve can only do so much for a magical wound."
"Is it something I can do myself?"
Pomfrey nodded.
"It is, but you will come to me once every few days so I can check on the wound," she instructed. "I will inform the judges that you will be unable to proceed further in the duelling competition."
"Why?"
"Because I will not medically clear you. Were any further harm to be done to that wound, it will likely be permanent," she returned matter-of-factly. "I will not have your foolishness on my conscience."
He wanted to protest, to argue that he would be fine, but he knew his pleas would be for nought.
"You should be focused on the third task," Madame Pomfrey advised. "If you heal well enough, I will have no reservations in clearing you for it."
Harry could only nod as she left the medical tent.
"I would have won," he grumbled.
" Yes, but at what cost?" Tom returned irritably. "What you did was foolish, and she is right. Ou should consider yourself lucky you have not been wounded further."
"I know," Harry agreed. "I just wanted to make it stop for her."
Tom sighed.
" It is unbelievable how dense you are in some things, Harry. Clearly, I should have spent more time teaching you about the world outside of magic than I have. What will you do?"
Harry shook his head.
" I should be asking you that. I have no idea what I'm doing when it comes to her. I thought I was doing the right thing by keeping her away but that didn't work."
" Although my own experience is limited, I can tell you this. Girls like Fleur Delacour are not damsels who wish to be protected, Harry. They are protectors and are big enough to make their own decisions for themselves. You need to allow her to do that."
Harry nodded, feeling thoroughly chastised by Tom.
" It's hard," Harry sighed. "I don't know what it feels like to care for anyone else, not like this. I've never had anyone that really meant anything to me."
" I know, Harry. Maybe that is what you should start by telling her."
(BREAK)
Madame Maxime had been very unhappy with how she had comported herself and had certainly vocalised her displeasure. Fleur could understand. Since she had begun at Beauxbatons, the woman had spent much time with her, teaching her how to not be the way others would already perceive. From her own experiences, she had learnt and had tried to instil some of those lessons within the young veela, but today, it was as though she had thrown them back in her face. She had lost control of herself, had lost the composure she had spent years mastering and maintaining.
Fleur was not sorry, however. There was always going to be a time when that mask would slip, when her nature would show itself and it had only taken one boy for that to happen, though it could prove to be a blessing in disguise, well, she hoped.
Having been thoroughly chastised by her headmistress, she had decided to shower and then spend some time alone in the hope that the evening would come quickly and that Harry was not going to be dismissive of today as he had with others thus far. They needed to talk, for both, a conversation must be had were they to avoid widening the rift that had started to form between them since the night of the ball.
She busied herself by repairing her damaged robes from the duel and brushing her hair into a long ponytail before the time to meet Harry arrived.
She stepped out of the carriage into the cool evening air. It was now a far cry from the coldness of the months prior, yet still chilly for one accustomed to the warmer nights of the south of France.
Taking a seat on one of the many rocks that lined the edge of the lake, she waited.
It was several minutes later that the sound of footprints could be heard approaching and she suddenly felt nervous, her mouth drying as they drew nearer. She turned to be greeted by the boy, his arm heavily bandaged, reminding her of what she done, and the nervousness gave way to guilt.
"I'm sorry, 'Arry," she offered sincerely.
He offered her a weak smile as he shrugged.
"It's alright," he assured her as he took a seat and looked across the water. "I won't be able to duel but there's no permanent damage other than a few scars to remind me not to upset a veela."
"Non, it was wrong of me to lose control like that," she countered.
"True, but I've obviously given you reason to," he returned.
Fleur huffed as she stared at him.
"I've never 'ad trouble with boys, not like this. You 'ave more than made up for it since I met you."
"It's the same for me," he sighed. "I've never had to deal with anything like this. I've always been alone, at first because that's the way it was. Then it was what I was used to, what I was comfortable with."
"Because people would only see 'Arry Potter, the boy who defeated 'im?"
Harry frowned thoughtfully.
"In a way, yes, but mostly because of the life I've lived. When I came into the wizarding world, I read some of the books that had been written about me, none even close to how it had been. I wasn't raised in a castle and I didn't spend my childhood fighting vampires, dragons or anything else. I didn't even know they existed. I grew up in a muggle village in Surrey and lived in a cupboard."
He snorted derisively before continuing.
"Imagine the surprise of the world. Their hero who defeated the Dark Lord living in a cupboard. Not quite the romantic tales written."
"You lived in a cupboard?" Fleur questioned angrily.
"There's no need to bring your feathers out, it's something I dealt with a long time ago," he chuckled.
Fleur narrowed her eyes at him.
"All I mean is that I am far from what anyone expected. When they realised that, they kept their distance and I was content with that. For the past few years of being here, I can count on my fingers how many people I have spoken to willingly. It's not that I think that I am above them, it's more that I don't know how to talk to others. I spent my whole life until I came to Hogwarts alone. I didn't have friends at muggle school and I've never gotten close enough to anyone to really care about them. And then you came along."
"I did," Fleur agreed.
"I still don't know what I'm doing," he said honestly turning to face her. "I thought I was doing the right thing by pushing you away. You know what has happened to me since I came here and what is waiting for me. I've never had to think about someone else's feelings before but the thought of anything happening to you terrifies me."
"That is normal, 'Arry. 'ow do you think I feel knowing what 'as 'appened to you and what could in the future?"
Harry nodded.
"A part of me wanted you to not care. I was comfortable being alone, I still am, but I don't want to hurt you or be the reason for you to lose control like you did earlier. What can I do to make that not happen again? I need you to tell me because I have no idea."
"Just don't push me away, 'Arry," she answered. "Let us be there for each other. I don't know what this is," she sighed, gesturing between them, "but I 'ave never 'ad anything like it. The only people I 'ave 'ad 'ave been my family. I know it is not the same as you, but I know what it is like to be lonely too. Now that I know what it is like, I do not want to be lonely anymore."
"What about Voldemort?"
"What about 'im?" Fleur questioned dismissively. "If 'e does come back, then we will deal with it then. My papa can keep you safe 'Arry."
"I don't want to be kept safe," Harry replied. "I want him dead and I want to be the one to do it. I don't expect you to understand, but I can't live my life hiding from him. One way or the other, it will happen. I need you to know that."
Fleur nodded resignedly.
"But not until you are ready. I will not 'ave you charging into a fight with 'im like an idiot," she said sternly. "I do understand, 'Arry, and I know that if there is anyone that can beat 'im, it is you. Just, don't do something silly. It is not just you that you 'ave to think about. It would break my 'eart if anything 'appened to you."
"I can't promise that it won't," he said honestly, her words warming and filling him with dread equally, "but I can promise that I won't just walk into a fight with him unprepared. I'm smarter than that."
"And you 'ave me to make sure of it. I will not 'ave you gallivanting around, 'Arry Potter," she warned.
"I won't," he assured her. "So, what do we do now?"
"We do not 'ave to do anything. We 'ave to get through the rest of the tournament and then, I don't know," she finished lamely. "Just, talk to me, 'Arry. Do not push me away."
He nodded his agreement.
He didn't know what there was between them but there was something about having her in his life that just felt right. He'd missed her, that he could admit. Whatever the future held; he did not know. What he was certain of, however, was that the girl sat beside him deserved better than what he had given so far and a small part of him started believed that he deserved it too.
(BREAK)
"You would have beaten them both," Terry commented as he watched Cedric face off with a Durmstrang student.
Harry agreed. Though both were not inept, the holes they had in their game was glaring and something he would have taken advantage of with little problem.
"They should have at least let you stand in for Harry," Terry added to Fleur.
"Madame Maxime would not allow it," the girl replied. "She is still angry about what 'appened during our duel."
"Yeah, but we've all been tempted to set fire to him. He's just got one of those faces."
Fleur giggled as Harry shot Terry a glare.
"How's the arm?" Terry asked before Harry could offer a rebuttal.
"Not too sore that I won't give you a slap," Harry replied.
That was not entirely true, but he did not need to know that. His arm was still sore, the skin tight and it pulled uncomfortably any time he moved it. He had kept up the required healing regimen and it was getting better, though slower than he would have liked. Madame Pomfrey, however, was quite astounded at how quickly he was healing. The blackened flesh was all but gone and had been replaced with a very sensitive pink layer that burned uncomfortably whenever he showered or cleaned away the salve. What he had achieved in three days should have taken at least a week according to the woman.
"Well, I won't enquire to your health anymore," Terry returned. "This is the thanks you get from looking out for him."
"'E is ungrateful," Fleur agreed, offering him a sweet smile.
"How has this turned into you ganging up on me?" he grumbled. "I knew I shouldn't have taken it easy on you."
"If you call that easy, I have no interest in seeing the other."
"Well, I do know a curse that will choke you on your own balls," Harry mused aloud.
Fleur grimaced as Terry cringed.
"You can teach me that one," Fae interjected. "What? It could be useful," she added when Fleur and Marie gave her a look of disgust.
"Do not teach 'er that," Fleur warned. "She will use it on anyone that upsets her."
"I would not."
The two began debating in French and Harry turned his attention back to the duel. As expected, Cedric was employing transfiguration and his opponent seemed to favour a mixture of charms and curses. Currently, they were at a stalemate and the duel had devolved into something that held little entertainment, certainly not on the level of those that frequented ' The Hag' of an evening.
"Diggory is tiring," Terry commented.
"He is. He won't last much longer," Harry predicted.
His words rang true only a few moments later when a spell from his opponent slipped through before a shield could be raised and Cedric was sent spinning from the platform. The Hogwarts students groaned in disappointment, but he stood seemingly without injury, sporting a smile.
"WINNER, AND YOUR DUELLING CHAMPION, KASIMIR NEMKOV OF DURMSTRANG," Dumbledore announced.
Harry clapped politely with the rest of the crowd; those clad in red much more enthusiastically than the rest.
"Bullshit," Terry grumbled. "Everyone knows he isn't the champion. It should be you up there."
"But it isn't," Harry pointed out, "and it isn't his fault. He did what he had to, and he won."
Terry frowned but nodded.
"I WOULD KINDLY ASK THAT THE TRIWIZARD CHAMPIONS REMAIN BEHIND ONCE THE REST OF THE STUDENTS HAVE LEFT THE STADIUM."
"Looks like we will finally find out what the final task is," Harry mused aloud.
"Well, good luck with that," Terry offered as he left with Marie and Fae.
Soon after, the stadium was empty and only Harry, Fleur, Cedric and Viktor remained along with the judges.
"Come, join us," Bagman invited.
The champions gathered as the man bounced on his toes excitedly. Thankfully, it was Dumbledore as the hosting headmaster that spoke to them.
"The time has come for you to learn what the third task will entail," he began as he drew his wand and vanished the duelling platform. "The third task is seemingly quite simple but is fraught with much danger. Your task will be to navigate the maze and retrieve the Triwizard cup from the centre. The first to do so will be crowned the victor."
Harry watched as he twirled his wand in a series of intricate motions and what appeared to be small hedgerows emerged from the ground. Each one barely stood a few feet in height.
"I can assure you, these will tower over you when it is time to enter. Within the maze will be an assortment of tasks and challenges for you to complete, many of which should not be taken lightly. If there are no questions, we will leave you to your preparations."
When none were asked, the headmaster dismissed them with a gentle nod and Harry headed towards the exit with Fleur.
"I almost forgot about the third task," she sighed.
Harry nodded, but he hadn't. The tournament is what had been occupying his mind for the better part of the year, and now that the end was in sight, he could almost feel the relief washing over him, though he knew that now was not the time for complacency. Still, the thought that someone had entered him for a purpose plagued his mind and that had yet to act. The third task would be the final chance to do so.
"I can't wait until it is all over," he replied.
"Me either, but that just means I will have to go home," she said sadly.
Harry snorted.
"You hate it here," he pointed out. "You don't like the food or the cold."
"Non, but you are 'ere 'Arry. I will miss not seeing you every day."
His stomach sunk at the thought of her leaving. It would be odd not seeing her so often and he couldn't help but think of how much he would miss having her around.
(BREAK)
"Mr Potter, could we have a word, please?"
Harry nodded and followed Professor Flitwick and the Deputy Headmistress to her office from the Great Hall. Once they reached it, he was beckoned inside, and the woman gestured for him to take seat.
Both appeared to be nervous and shared an unknowing look before Professor McGonagall reached into one of her desk drawers and retrieved a thick envelope. She placed it on the desk in front.
"I believe these are your results. They arrived this morning, but you were not at breakfast to receive them. I can assure you that it has remained unopened until you could be found."
Harry nodded gratefully as he read his name on the front of the missive, the Ministry embossed on one of the corners. He had been preparing this morning and had been reading up on previous tournament tasks for any further indication of what this one would include. Although it had been enlightening and gave him an idea of the danger he faced, there was seemingly no consensus of what to expect. He would essentially be blind and that did not sit well with him.
"You do not have to open it here, if you do not wish to," Flitwick comforted, noticing he was lost in thought.
Harry nodded but began to break the seal. He hadn't thought much on the exams since they had been completed, his focus having been on duelling, the third task and his arm healing, which thankfully had. All that remained since the burn occurred three weeks ago was a few scars that did not inhibit his movement in the arm. A few more scars to add to his collection was not something to worry about, certainly not compared to what could happen to him in the future.
Once the seal broke, he removed the sheaves of parchment within and began to read:
Dear Mr Potter,
Please find enclosed the results of your recently completed Ordinary Wizarding Level and Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test assessments conducted by me at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Classification is as follows:
O – Outstanding
E – Exceeds Expectations
A – Acceptable
P – Poor
D – Dreadful
T - Troll
Should you wish to make an appeal for any of the given grades, you must write to the Department of Magical Education within 30 days of receiving them.
Your results are as follows:
OWLS
Ancient Runes – O
Arithmancy - O
Astronomy – E
Defence Against the Dark Arts – O
Herbology – O
History of Magic – E
Potions – O
NEWTS
Charms – O
Transfiguration – O
Congratulations, you have obtained 9 OWLS and 2 NEWTS.
Best Wishes,
Madame Griselda Marchbanks
Senior Examiner
He breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't care about History nor Astronomy. He had no desire to pursue either beyond OWL level and certainly not as careers. He needed to sit and think about what subjects he wanted to continue with from next year and begin deciding what it was he wanted to do when he left school. Seeing his exam results made that reality settle in much more than he thought it would.
"May I?" McGonagall asked.
Harry nodded for her to read. Perhaps she would be able to assist him somewhat with his latest quandary.
Once she had finished reading, she handed the parchment to Flitwick and leaned back in her chair.
"I must say, Mr Potter, though I did not expect anything less from you, I am very impressed. You should be very proud of your achievement," the woman offered warmly.
"Thank you, Professor," Harry replied, "but what will it mean for next year?"
"Professor Flitwick and I have been discussing that very topic these past few weeks. We are both very keen for you to continue with whatever NEWTS you choose and spend more time with each of us in our own fields. Should you choose to accept, we would like to offer you an apprenticeship in both Charms and Transfiguration. Having a mastery in both subjects would give you endless opportunities in whatever career you decide upon. Is it something you have been considering?"
Harry nodded.
"I'm not sure what I want to do," he answered honestly. "What would be the best topics to continue with? What ones would open more doors for me?"
"Well, each subject will open different doors and different combinations of them more so. If, for example, you wished to be an auror, you would need Charms, Transfiguration, Defence and Potions at the very least. With how difficult it is to be accepted into the academy, I would also recommend additional subjects to bolster your achievements."
"I don't plan on working in an office, I don't think it would suit me," he replied thoughtfully. "I don't enjoy stargazing so much and I'm no gardener. I think I'd like to do something practical. I thought about duelling and even curse-breaking."
"It is not something you have to decide now," McGonagall said dismissively. "You are still only fourteen after all. However, should you choose to accept our offer, an apprenticeship will last between three and five years, depending on how quickly you progress. If you are uncertain still on what you wish to do, I would urge you to accept. It is not an opportunity earned by many and you are extraordinarily talented in both subjects. Having two masteries will almost guarantee you whatever opportunities you would seek next."
Harry nodded thoughtfully.
" It would be a shame for you to not fully utilise your talent, Harry," Tom added. "One day, Voldemort will be gone. I do not wish for you to reflect on missed opportunities because you were so consumed by him."
"You said that my father was gifted in Transfiguration. Did you offer him an apprenticeship?" he asked curiously.
McGonagall nodded as she gave him a sad smile.
"I did and he proved to be the young man I always believed he was. He turned down my offer so that he could contribute to the war efforts. He truly was a pain in the backside, Mr Potter, but one of the most genuinely kind people you would ever meet."
"And you're not just offering this because of him?"
McGonagall was struck by the question and her visage quickly shifted into that of the stern Professor she usually was.
"I can assure you, Potter, that you have earned this opportunity on your own merit. I respected your father, but I certainly would not seek validation through you by desecrating my field of expertise with a subpar practitioner."
"Neither would I," Flitwick added firmly.
"Then I would like to accept," Harry returned.
The two Professors smiled, though they were evidently surprised he had done so as readily as he had.
"Well, I will submit the required paperwork to the Department of Education and begin planning for your next years," McGonagall announced, shaking her head. "And congratulations, Harry. You should feel very privileged to receive this opportunity from one of us, let alone both."
"Indeed," Professor Flitwick agreed. "Nevertheless, I am honoured that you have. It has been a joy to see you develop from your first day to where you are now, and I look forward to continue watching you grow."
Harry smiled at the pair genuinely.
Although the woman was a no-nonsense sort, she had proven to be an excellent teacher as had the diminutive man next to her. Although he had the talent and he had Tom, they had both nurtured him over the years, had continuously pushed him and made him work for what he had earned in their subjects.
Now, it appeared that they would do it more so and the feeling of relief he felt was unquestionable. For the next few years at least, he knew what direction his life would be heading in.
(BREAK)
"You don't seem that nervous about tonight," Terry pointed out whilst they ate their breakfast the morning of the third task.
"Why would I be? You've seen the calibre of people I'm up against," Harry returned with a grin.
Fleur narrowed her eyes at him from across the table and began muttering in French.
"She's already burnt you once. I wouldn't tempt it again," Terry suggested.
"No, it wasn't a pleasant experience," Harry sighed. "Maybe I should just let her win."
"You will do no such thing," Fleur bit back. "I do not need you to let me win. I will beat you."
Harry chuckled as he helped himself to more eggs. He had no desire to lose to any in the tournament though the thought of something occurring during the task played on his mind. Tom had also urged him to be cautious, well, he had urged not competing altogether and the pair had quite the heated discussion about it.
Flashback
For weeks, he had been preparing for any fathomable interference in the task and the conclusion he reached for any scenario was very much the same. Keep his cloak with him, keep a portkey handy and do whatever was needed to ensure he survived.
" I implore you to reconsider, Harry. You need only enter the maze and wait for one of the others to retrieve the cup."
" And what if that person is Fleur? What happens if there is a trap intended for me and it is her that falls into it? I can't do that, Tom."
" Then discuss it with her! She will understand."
Harry sighed.
She would understand and would likely go along with anything he suggested, but what if whomever was targeting him had accounted for this? What alternative plans could there be in place? Both Tom and Dumbledore had said numerous times that Voldemort was resourceful and always found a way to get what he wants. The death of his parents was proof of that and the fact the bastard still lived also. No matter what he chose, Voldemort would likely get what he wanted, one way or another.
" I think the best thing I can do is reach the cup first. It all began with the bloody thing and likely will end with it. It's been proven that it is not uncompromisable."
" Perhaps you are right," Tom conceded unhappily. "I just wish we weren't so left in the dark."
Harry nodded his agreement.
There had to be someone working against him within the school, but he could not figure out who. For hours, he had perused the map, looking for any potential person that would work for Voldemort and only two names had stood out: Karkaroff and Snape.
Tom assured him that Karkaroff would be a fool to return to the service of Voldemort, or even attempt to. After having condemned much of his most loyal followers to Azkaban, he would not be forgiven and would certainly not be alive now had he attempted to locate his former master.
Snape being a Death Eater had been quite the revelation, but again, Tom was adamant he was not the man. He may have served the Dark Lord at one time but people like Severus Snape served only himself. It would not be to his benefit for Voldemort to return in any way, not unless he'd become a fanatic over the years which did not add up. Although he was quite unpleasant to most students, he was no pureblood supremacist. He himself was a half-blood.
" There must be something we are missing," Tom sighed. "I can think of no other not in Azkaban that would take such a risk other than Wormtail."
" He's probably with him," Harry huffed internally, "but there has to be others. The rat wouldn't be able to orchestrate this alone."
" No, he would not even be capable of the spells required to trick the goblet, but I am at a loss. Lucius is a possibility but would only do so if success was promised. He would not risk his position."
Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly. The more they pondered the identity of who was working with Voldemort, the more confused he became.
" If you can't figure it out, I doubt anyone can. I think we should continue as we have and deal with the fallout. Voldemort will not necessarily expect me to be prepared to face him and there's little that I could escape from."
" I know, Harry, but it is a risk that I would rather you not take."
" And I would rather not take it, but I don't see any other way. Besides, I'm still determined to win this thing."
" And you will. I just do not wish it to cost more than you would be willing to give."
End Flashback
"Don't worry, I still plan on winning," he responded.
She nodded satisfactorily. She wanted to win just as much if not more than him, but she would not accept it gifted to her. Her determination was one of the things he admired about her. Despite a less than desirable performance in the second task, she still believed she could win.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, I beg just a moment of your time," Dumbledore called as he stood from his place at the top table. "Today, the Triwizard tournament will be concluded and I would like to wish all four champions luck."
His words were met with a polite round of applause.
"However, before the task begins this evening, I would kindly ask that the champions join myself and the other judges in the antechamber when breakfast has been concluded."
"What do you think that is about?" Terry asked.
Harry shrugged.
"Our families 'ave come to spend the day with us," Fleur explained. "It is tradition on the day of the final task."
Harry nodded. It made sense that something like that would happen. As he had no family, however, it became one of those bitter moments in life that he was reminded that he had no such thing. The Dursley's certainly wouldn't be here and even if they dared to, he would ensure they were gone in a matter of moments. He was not inclined to ever lay eyes on them again.
When Fleur finished, she stood and beckoned for him to do the same.
He shook his head.
"The only family I have are one I have no intention of spending time with."
"Then you will spend it with mine," she insisted.
"No," Harry disagreed. "This is your time with them. I have a few things I need to do anyway."
Fleur stared at him for a moment before sighing and nodding her understanding.
Perhaps he should spend some time with Serana? She was almost like family in a strange way.
"Where do you think are going, Mr Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked as he stood and began exiting the hall. "There are people waiting to greet you."
He felt his stomach sink as he changed direction and headed towards the antechamber. Had the Dursley's come?
He entered the room to be greeted by the sight of the Delacour's, who appeared to be Cedric's mother and Father and a thickly built man who could only be Krum's father. He was accompanied by a rather squat woman who was apparently his mother. In the corner, however, was quite the surprise. There stood Remus and Sirius, the latter receiving looks of suspicion from the others in the room.
"What are you two doing here?" Harry asked as he reached them.
"You're right, Moony, he's definitely a charmer," Sirius said brightly as he ruffled his hair. "Where else would we be?"
"Well, known werewolf and ex-prisoner," Harry reminded them.
Sirius shrugged.
"If people want to be bigoted about werewolves, they can take it up with me," he declared loudly enough to be heard.
The man who was seemingly Cedric's father blushed and turned away at the statement.
"Besides, being stuck in that house is bloody boring. It's been too long since I sheathed my wand," he added quietly, looking in the direction of Apolline Delacour.
Remus shook his head in exasperation.
"And if you tried with her, I would castrate you myself, let alone what Sebastien would do to you," Harry warned.
"I was joking," Sirius assured him, taken aback by his protectiveness towards the woman. "Bloody hell, she's married."
"That never stopped you before," Remus broke in.
"Well, I was young and stupid," Sirius defended.
"You're still stupid," Remus muttered.
Any further conversation was interrupted by the approaching Sebastien who eyed both men suspiciously.
"Might I ask who you are? You wouldn't 'appen to be Harry's relatives, would you?"
"I'm his godfather," Sirius answered with a frown.
Sebastien relaxed.
"You have my apologies, I thought…"
"Wrongly," Apolline broke in, glaring at her husband. "My 'usband is too presumptuous for 'is own good."
"It's okay," Remus assured the woman. "You must be Mrs Delacour. Harry speaks very fondly of you, and yourself," he added to the man.
"You must be Mr Lupin and Sirius Black," Apolline replied warmly. "'Arry 'as been complimentary of you both also."
"Aww you do care," Sirius exclaimed, ruffling Harry's hair once more.
Harry wrestled himself from the man's grip and grumbled under his breath, narrowing his eyes at Fleur who giggled at him.
"Sirius, you know what happened the last time you pushed him too far," Remus sighed.
Sirius grimaced at the memory.
On one of the few nights Harry had stayed with them, he had attempted to prank him, only for it to backfire. He hadn't been able to sit down properly for a week when the fanged frisbee had lodged itself in one of his buttocks.
He unconsciously rubbed his posterior.
"Sorry, Harry. I'm just excited to see you. We've not spent much time together."
Harry felt a wave of guilt wash over him.
He had been busy and had not visited as often as he would have liked. Between the tournament, schoolwork, duelling and his house, he hadn't made much time for his father's friends.
"Sorry, Sirius, it won't be like this next year."
The man gave him a bright smile, the words meaning more than Harry could have anticipated.
"It's alright, I understand," Sirius answered. "You can make it up to me by taking us round the castle. It will be nice to visit some of our old haunts."
Harry readily agreed.
"Would you mind if we joined you?" Sebastien asked. "I have not seen much of the castle myself."
"The more the merrier," Sirius replied happily.
"Come Fleur, Gabrielle, 'Arry is going to show us around," Sebastien announced.
"You'd better not frighten 'er," Fleur warned as he led them from the room. "No 'idden ghosts, 'Arry Potter."
Harry smirked at the memory of the French students encounter with Myrtle whilst Sirius looked at him questioningly.
"I might have sent the French students into the bathroom on the second floor their first night here," he explained.
Sirius guffawed and wiped away an imaginary tear.
"See, he does have it in him," he declared, elbowing Remus in the side.
He had been prepared to walk them around the castle, what he had not been prepared for was Sirius announcing each location he had 'gotten lucky' in during his years here. It got to the point where Harry, Remus and Apolline had to tell him to shut up if only for the sake of Gabrielle who thankfully understood very little of what was being said.
Much to his relief, they left the castle a short while later and entered the grounds.
"If you are about to say you have done it out here, then don't." Harry huffed, seeing that Sirius was about to speak once more.
"I wasn't," the man denied.
"Of course not," Harry sighed. "Maybe we should get some lunch?"
"You can join us, if you like?" Apolline offered. "I 'ave brought food from 'ome. There is more than enough."
Sirius rubbed his hands together gleefully.
"It's been a while since I had something French."
Apolline ignored him as she led the way towards the edge of the lake before removing and resizing a trunk she had concealed within her robes. She meticulously placed boxes of food on a conjured blanket and cast duplicating charms on the plate and cutlery. Gesturing for them to sit, she handed Harry a plate first with a smile.
Once they all had a plate of food, they ate and shared some light conversation before the topic inevitably shifted to the final task that would take place this evening.
Harry, not wanting to discuss it anymore than he had over the past weeks took note of Gabrielle. The girl had been much more subdued than usual as they had toured the castle. He had at first thought she was merely shy with the presence of the two other men, but he noticed her eying the lake warily.
"You're not frightened of the water, are you?" he asked.
The girl nodded as Apolline huffed.
"It is almost impossible to get 'er in the bath now," she said, shooting her husband a look of irritation.
"Ahh, that's what that smell is," Harry mused aloud.
"I do not smell!" Gabrielle exclaimed.
Harry gave the girl a dramatic sniff and wrinkled his nose.
"It's definitely you," he confirmed.
The girl narrowed her eye at him the same way her sister did when she was irritated. She even folded her arms for good measure.
"Come with me," he urged as he stood and offered her his hand.
She hesitated for a moment before taking it and allowing herself to be pulled to her feet.
Keeping hold of her, Harry led her towards the edge of the lake where the girl all but froze a dozen or so feet away.
"I was the one that pulled you out of there, remember?" she nodded uncertainly. "Do you think I would let anything happen to you?"
She shook her head as she tentatively began to follow him once.
When they were only a few feet away, he released her hand and took off his shoes, socks and rolled up his trouser legs. Stepping into the lake, he gave a shrug.
"See, there's not anything to worry about. I know you had a bad experience but that shouldn't ruin it for you. Don't you enjoy baths? Don't you like all the bubbles?"
The girl smiled and nodded before her face fell.
"I 'ad a bad dream about being stuck in there," she explained, pointing to the water.
"You're scared?"
"Oui, I do not like it."
Harry offered her a look of sympathy as he stepped out of the water and stood next to her.
"We are all scared of something. The hardest thing to do is face it but sometimes we must. You don't want to spend the rest of your life being scared, do you?"
Gabrielle shook her head emphatically.
"I don't think your parents would let anything happen to you and neither will I whilst you're with me," he assured her.
"What are you scared of?" she asked.
Harry gave a conspiratorial look around before leaning in.
"Do you promise not to tell?"
"I promise," she answered immediately.
"Well, I am a little scared of your sister."
Gabrielle giggled.
"Fleur is not scary," she denied.
"Shh," Harry chided, looking to make sure he had not been overheard. "Not to you, but she terrifies me."
"Why?"
"Maybe I will tell you one day," he replied, "but this isn't about me, this about you fearing the water."
"I can't 'elp it," she whispered.
"I know," Harry comforted. "We can fix it though. Do you trust me?"
"Of course, you're 'Arry Potter."
"You shouldn't trust anyone just because of their name," he returned seriously. "You should trust people because of what they do. Even though I am Harry Potter, you should trust me because I already helped you get out of the lake."
"I trust you, 'Arry."
"Good, then you know I will not let anything happen to you. Come," he instructed, offering her his hand once more.
She took it and he again led her closer to the lake. He could feel her shaking and gave her an encouraging smile as he stepped in up to his ankles.
"See, nothing bad will happen."
She nodded as she slowly removed her own shoes and held out her hand for him to take, a look of determination etched into her features.
With a chuckle, he held it and she slowly and shakily stepped in the water next to him.
"Well done," he praised gently. "Now, how about we go and visit the merepeople?"
Gabrielle looked horrified by the idea until he burst out laughing and she scowled at him.
"That is not funny, 'Arry," she growled before reaching down and splashing him with a handful of water.
Shocked by her actions, he raised an eyebrow at her.
"So, that's how it is, is it?"
"Non, 'Arry," she yelped as he returned the gesture.
Once more she narrowed her eyes and launched herself at him, sending them both sprawling in the shallow water. Not convinced that he was soaked enough, she began splashing him, giggling and shouting in French as he attempted to fend her off.
(BREAK)
Sebastien laughed heartily as his youngest attacked Harry, his heart warming at the sight of the boy helping his daughter conquer her fear of the water. Had he known she would have developed such, he would never have agreed for her to be placed in the lake.
His eyes drifted to his eldest and a smile pulled at his lips. She too was watching the pair, her eyes sparkling with fondness as she giggled at the antics on display.
"Well, if I hadn't seen it myself, I wouldn't have believed it," Sirius sighed, his own eyes not reflecting happiness but relief.
"What do you mean?" Sebastien asked.
Sirius deflated as he watched his godson.
"He worries me," he answered with a shrug. "I know I've not been around but what I've seen of him has not been encouraging. I don't know, maybe I expected him to be like them, but he isn't not even close."
"His parents? What were they like?"
Sirius smiled.
"James and Lily were the nicest people you could ever meet, different but both incredible."
Remus nodded his agreement as Sirius seemed to become lost in thought.
"When James found out I was a werewolf, he taught the others how to become animagi just so I wouldn't have to go through my transformations alone," he explained. "That's the James that we knew, and Lily was an amazing witch and mother. When Harry was born, you could see how much he meant to her. Do you remember how protective she was over him?"
Sirius snorted.
"She wouldn't let me hold him until she'd cast a dozen charms on me to prove I was clean and hadn't been drinking," he chuckled, "and when I brought him that broom. Merlin that woman could curse you."
"And 'Arry is not like them?" Sebastien pressed.
"Not from what I have seen. James was a bugger, don't get me wrong but not like Harry. Did you know he's been sneaking into bars to watch illegal duels since he was eleven?"
Sebastien shook his head and cursed under his breath in French. Illegal duels were dangerous and not just because of the activity. If he was caught there he would not get away with a light sentence and his reputation would be in tatters.
"It is understandable," he sighed. "'e 'as not 'ad it easy."
Sirius nodded his agreement, smiling at the laughter he could hear from his godson. When he smiled, it was Lily he saw but almost everything else was James other than the eyes. They too belonged to his mother.
"Seeing him like this gives me hope that he hasn't been jaded by the world. Not a day goes by that I do not regret what I did. If I had been there, maybe he would have turned out differently."
"'Arry 'as turned out just fine," Fleur broke in. "'E might not show it but 'e is the kindest and sweetest person I 'ave ever met."
Sebastien hid his grin at the outburst of his daughter. He agreed with her. He may have had a poor start in life, but Harry Potter had turned into a fine young man despite his experiences. Looking at how he interacted with Gabrielle, one would never know the burden he carried nor what his intentions were. Seeing his eyes filled with care had him doubting momentarily if Harry could indeed end a life but then he remembered the cold look he also possessed, and he sobered.
Here, Harry appeared as though the weight of the world was not on his shoulders, as though a simple dip in the lake was deepest of his concerns. However, Sebastien knew better. He had seen the hurt and the anger the boy held within, and for a moment, he felt sorry for any that crossed his path until he reminded himself of just who these people were.
They were the scum of wizarding Britain, the ones that had brought misery to many, the very same that had robbed the boy of his family. Sebastien did not feel sorry for them, but he pitied them. If the Dark Lord did return, it would be to greet whatever it was that Harry would unleash upon them.
Still, he would much rather the boy allowed himself to be sheltered, though he knew such thoughts were folly. As Harry had said himself, he had been preparing for what he believed to be the inevitable for years and Sebastien, as much as he wished he could, would not be the one to deny him his justice.
He only hoped that Harry could see through his desires towards those who cared for him. Fleur would be inconsolable were anything to happen to him.
He chanced a final glance at the girl who continued to watch the boy. It was plain to see just how much he meant to her. She was very much like her mother in that way, or perhaps it was a veela thing. As much as they liked to think they were good at hiding their thoughts and feelings, they weren't, not from what he had seen, and Fleur's was an open book in this moment.
He had seen that very same look from her mother when he would greet her at breakfast time or return home from a day at the office. That warmth, that care and that compassion was all too familiar.