How One Heals
A/N
Another chapter for you guys.
Do check out my other social media and all the usual jazz. This week, zaxaramas will be joining me on the podcast.
TBR
There was something quite wholesome about chopping his own wood. It had begun to distract him from all the burdens that weighed him down, from the monumental trials that were to come. Now, it was something he had incorporated into his routine. Not only did it serve to distract him but was also a way that he could release some of the pent-up emotions he felt.
He wasn't to know that it would be so therapeutic and had initially only implemented the practice from necessity. His magic had taken time to settle, something that became apparent when he felled his first tree with it. Instead of cleaving through the trunk, the thing had been reduced to splinters.
He had decided then that using his magic for the time being could be dangerous and had purchased his axe the very same day. Thankfully, the issues with his magic no longer plagued him and he had finally recovered from whatever had happened to him the night of the third task. Still, working with the axe was satisfying and served to strengthen his body also, something he had been working on when using magic was out of the question.
He wiped the sweat from his brow, taking note to get a haircut. In the month he had been here, he hadn't given it a thought, his mind having been focused on the plethora of other things that demanded his attention.
The absence of Tom was something he was still getting used to. Often, he would find himself seeking advice from the voice, only to stop when he remembered that an answer would not come. Having his mind to himself was the biggest adjustment he needed to come to terms with and even making his own decisions without the benefit of a second opinion, but he was learning. It would take time.
He had not visited the grove since the day he had finished his work there. It was not out of disrespect for the man that had all but saved him but for his own benefit. He needed to adapt to life without Tom and visiting felt as though he was reliant on him. He was, in truth, and it was this that needed to change.
He missed him and always would, however, Tom was gone. He had wallowed in that misery until he realised the man would be furious with him for doing so. He wouldn't want that and would urge him to use what he was feeling in a productive way. As such, he had thrown himself into the work that needed to be completed and his studies. This year would be different, after all.
Once he had finished stacking the fruits of his labour onto the growing pile of logs he had accumulated, he entered the house, the coolness a welcome feeling from his hours in the sun.
"Hello, girl," he greeted Hedwig, who had decided she liked the kitchen very much when she was here.
She barked in response, revelling in his touch as he stroked the feathers on the back of her neck.
"I know," he sighed. "I will write back to her today."
She gave him what he deemed to be a look of disbelief as he left the room and entered the downstairs shower room. There was a bathroom upstairs with a rather exquisite tub that he had not used yet. It was hot here, much hotter than he was used to, and it held little appeal, for now.
Stripping off his clothes, he caught sight of himself in the mirror and shook his head. He truly did need to trim his hair. It had begun to resemble a bird's nest and did nothing but made him sweat all the more.
Flicking his wand into his hand, he begun the laborious process of shearing it off, a frown marring his features as he realised that his scar was missing. He leaned in closer, only to see that it yet remained, only it had faded considerably. A fine, no longer puckered line was what he had been left with.
He shrugged, not lamenting the loss of the thing that had brought him much unwanted attention over the years as he continued with the task at hand.
When he was finished, he vanished the sizable amount of hair he had removed before turning on the shower and relishing the feeling of the cool water as it ran down his back, washing away the filth of the day.
Reluctantly, he left the shower when he felt the first pangs of hunger and having dried and dressed in fresh clothing, he made his way back to the kitchen.
Much to his relief, he had found another service in which meals would be delivered to him via a box system, like the one he had used during his final years with his relatives.
He blamed them for this habit. He loathed cooking because of the hours he spent at the stove preparing their meals whilst he could only enjoy what scraps they left.
He pushed those thoughts aside. Such things were now a distant memory for him, and he sat down to enjoy his ample meal of pasta in tomato sauce with Mediterranean vegetables.
The fare here was far from what he was used to eating at Hogwarts, not that he disliked the food there. The Sicilian cuisine, however, was focused much on local produce, fish, vegetables and pasta for the most part, much lighter food than he was accustomed to and he was enjoying the change.
When his meal was finished, he cleaned his plate and cutlery with a wave of his wand before returning them to the box he kept on the counter, his eyes catching sight of the sheet of the sheet of parchment filled with the writing of a now familiar hand.
It was only the second letter he had received from Fleur, the first having arrived around a week after he had come here. That one had been little more than her explaining that she was home and asking after him. This one, however, had added to his own thoughts over the past few days since Hedwig had brought it.
He picked it up, knowing that he couldn't nor wanted to ignore it.
Dear Harry,
I know I promised that I would not write too often whilst you are handling what you need to but being home has given me much time to think about what has happened between us over the past months.
I don't know what to say other than I am sorry for how I have acted at times. Before I met you, I had gotten used to how my life had been, had gotten used to being shunned by strangers and looked on as though I was not fit to breathe the same air as them and then you came along and were nothing like that.
You treated me better than anyone else ever has. You didn't see a veela that wanted to seduce every boy she came across. Maybe I could put it down to your ignorance of us, but I know that is not it. You are a good person and I treated you horribly.
I won't make any excuses other than I was confused and frustrated. Confused because of how easily you made me feel comfortable around you and even more that you were not much affected by me and frustrated because I did not know what to do about it.
I didn't want to force you into talking about things after the ball, but I was hurt. It felt as though I had done something wrong to make you turn away from me and I did something stupid. Instead of waiting for when you were ready, I allowed what I felt to get the better of me when we duelled, and I hurt you.
I will always feel guilty about that. I was selfish and unfair to you without thinking about it from your perspective when I should have. I sometimes forget that you have had it worse than I have. I suppose it is because I know the kind of person you are and find it hard to believe that no one else has been lucky to see it.
Anyway, I wanted to you to know that I am sorry. Maman says it's because we are young and stupid, that we have both made mistakes, but we will learn from them. She says the only way we can move forward is to talk about it, but only when you are ready.
Right now, I want you to get better. Despite anything that has or might happen, I will never forget that you saved my life.
Maman asks about you every day, as does Gabrielle and Papa.
They all miss you.
I miss you, Harry Potter.
Fleur x
He sighed as he put the parchment back on the counter. He hadn't given much thought about how things had played out between them, but having read her words, he could see the truth in them.
She had been honest about how poorly each of them had handled things, and he could not help but agree. Since the night of the ball, things went wrong and he knew it was largely down to him that they did so.
He could blame his desire to keep her at bay, to protect from what was coming but he knew he would be lying to himself. Of course, he wanted to keep her safe, however, it was his own inability to confront what he was feeling that was the cause.
It had been strange to think about another as much as he had her. It had only ever been him he'd needed to focus on and the alien thoughts he had only served to distract him from his purpose. He had done all he could to ignore what was budding between them, even his own desire that he'd spent months denying was there. It had taken is own death to acknowledge it, to even begin to accept it, and then this letter had arrived and made him consider it all over again.
She was right. Things had not been great, and it was because they communicated poorly, much of which he blamed himself for. She was by no means innocent in this, but it had been him that had tried to ignore it, tried to deny what was happening and actively avoided discussing it.
She had allowed her emotions to get the better of her, and looking back, he couldn't blame her.
" Veela are passionate creatures… They like to think they are in control of their emotions, but they are not…"
The echoing words of Sebastien caused him to snort and sobered him somewhat. He had no experience with females whatsoever and it was just his luck that he would develop feelings for one much more complex than he could have imagined.
Veela were not entirely human, were considered magical creatures, though that could be due to the amount of prejudice that existed towards them. Regardless, they had a very different side to them, and it usually manifested when they were experiencing things that were emotionally draining, such as what had happened between the two of them.
There was no excuse for her allowing her control to slip the way she had, but he understood. Having read how it had affected her, he could not be angry. Partly, it was her allowing it to get the better of her, partly it was him for not dealing with what had happened and partly, it was simply her nature.
Having thought about everything over the past days, he couldn't disagree that things had been turbulent at best, but what prevailed above all else was the thought that he missed her too. Despite it all, he missed her.
Perhaps conversations would need to be had and maybe it would result in nothing, but the thought of not confronting and resolving it if he could did not sit well with him.
"I'm doing it now," he chuckled, catching sight of Hedwig who was staring almost expectantly at him.
(BREAK)
Her studying was interrupted by a tapping and she stood immediately to admit the owl. At first, she had thought that it might have been a response to one of the many jobs and internships she had been applying for, but the white feathers and amber eyes were unmistakeable. Quickening her pace, she threw the window open and allowed the bird to land on her shoulder.
" Hello, Hedwig," she greeted. "Has he been taking care of himself?"
The owl chirped, eliciting a giggle from the girl as she returned to her desk and fed her a treat.
" So, shall we see what he has said?"
Hedwig ignored her as she removed the missive that had been tied to her leg and unfurled it, her heart soaring as she took in the contents.
Startling the owl as she shot to her feet, she all but sprinted to the kitchen, any intentions of further study forgotten.
" Fleur, what are you doing?" Apolline asked when she entered the room, breathing heavily from her efforts.
"' Arry wants to come and visit!"
Apolline rolled her eyes before giving the girl a smile.
" Of course, he can come," she replied, amusedly.
" Write and tell him to meet me at our Ministry the day after tomorrow. He will need me to let him through the new wards," Sebastien explained.
He had been securing the home further since they had returned from Britain. It hadn't been unsecure before but now it was a veritable fortress. There was nothing that could get to those inside without considerable effort. Even if they could, his family would be long gone by the time they even got close to the house itself. It had cost him a small fortune, but he would rather his family were safe than regret inaction later.
Fleur nodded excitedly before rushing from the room, her father shaking his head at her enthusiasm.
" Were you that excited when you knew I was coming to visit?"
" Only in your dreams, my love. I had to endure you and my mother together. It was not easy for me."
" She started it," Sebastien defended.
" And I had to put an end to it. Honestly, you are both as bad as each other. Even after all these years of marriage, you have to wind each other up."
" She is too easy."
" As are you, now be quiet and give me a kiss, you idiot. You have been home for twenty minutes and I have been neglected."
Sebastien grinned as he did as he was bid. Still, after more than twenty years together, he couldn't be happier. Even if he did have to endure the antics of his mother-in-law occasionally.
(Break)
It could not be said that, for the past month, Albus Dumbledore had bee idle in his efforts. Recruitment for the order had been going well and Grimmauld Place was now secure from any possible attack that may occur.
The Dark Lord had been quiet, much to his relief and chagrin in equal measure. Albus was no fool, he knew that his former student was merely biding his time, working in the shadows towards his own goals. He was building and consolidating power so that it might equal his standing before he had fallen on Halloween, 1981. Only when he was ready, he would resurface.
For now, however, he was using Cornelius's denial as the most effective tool to remain hidden, to re-establish himself amongst his followers and likely gain others. As much as he wished it were not so, the same prejudices that allowed Voldemort's rise to power yet existed, thus, it was inevitable that he would be successful in his current endeavours to add to his numbers.
The Headmaster looked upon those gathered at the kitchen table, those willing and brave enough to take up the responsibility for preventing such, the sight filling him with pride.
Clearing his throat, the chatter around him ceased.
"Do we have anything to report?"
"The Dark Lord continues to recruit," Severus answered. "Macnair sent word that he has reached the giant encampments. He has, however, been instructed to do nothing that will draw unwanted attention."
Dumbledore nodded gratefully.
Hagrid and Madame Maxime were also there, putting forward his own case to the Gurg. Both could handle themselves, but it was a relief to know that no attempt on them from the Death Eaters would be made.
"Thank you, Severus. Anything else?"
"It is quiet, Albus. The Dementors continue to be in a breeding frenzy, but nothing else," Kingsley Shacklebolt answered.
He was proving to be one of their most useful assets. As a veteran Auror, he was able to pass on information on disappearances and strange incidents the public would not usually be privy to.
He acknowledged the offering with a slight bow.
"Is there anything to report from guard duty?"
"Nothing, Albus," Arthur Weasley confirmed. "There has been no sign of anyone."
The Headmaster nodded thoughtfully, though it was only a matter of time before an attempt to retrieve the prophecy would be made.
"Very well, if there is nothing else?"
When none spoke, he stood to take his leave, only to be halted by the arrival of a patronus, its' form a small Jackrabbit. He frowned as it spoke, his heart sinking into his stomach.
" Albus, I think you need to be here. I just had to fight off two Dementors and there is still no sign of Harry."
Sirius immediately jumped to his feet.
"I'm coming," he announced.
Dumbledore nodded his agreement.
"Alastor, Bill, your assistance would be much appreciated also."
The two men stood, and Dumbledore held out an arm for each of them to take. With little more than a gentle pop, the four of them vanished.
They reappeared in a muggle park, the grass beneath their feet dried by the blistering summer sun, though a distinct chill lingered where it shouldn't in July.
"It's this way," the Headmaster announced, drawing his wand leading the others from through a gate a short distance away.
"What were they doing here?" Bill questioned as they entered Privet Drive via an underpass.
"I cannot be certain," Dumbledore answered, a frown marring his features. "Neither explanation I have fills me with hope."
No further words were exchanged until they reached the home of Harry's relatives and they were approached by a shaken woman with bright pink hair, her own wand in hand.
"What happened, Nymphadora?"
The woman narrowed her eyes at the much older man but quelled any retort she had had in favour of answering his question.
"I was keeping a look out for Harry when they arrived out of nowhere. There were two of them and it looked like they were searching for someone. They came right to the house."
"And you haven't seen Harry?" Sirius broke in.
"None of us have," the woman answered, her hair shifting between various colours as she spoke. "Not a single sighting."
"This is most concerning," Dumbledore muttered as he approached the front door and knocked loudly.
"Who the bloody hell is it at this time?" a male voice grumbled loudly before the door was opened just enough for a woman to appear at him from within. Upon seeing him, her eyes widened, and she hurriedly slammed the door with a whimper.
"It is no use hiding, Petunia," Dumbledore sighed.
Another moment passed before the door opened once more a little wider this time.
"Go away. Why can't you just leave us alone?"
"You know why, Petunia, so do open the door and we will soon be on our way."
The woman released a deep breath as she pulled it open.
"Get in here quickly," she instructed, giving a furtive glance to ensure the neighbours had not seen her conversing with this strange ensemble of people.
Once the door had closed behind them and without preamble, Dumbledore looked at the woman with a penetrating stare.
"Where is Harry?"
Before an answer could be given, the same male voice that had spoken earlier did so again as it drew nearer.
"Who the hell is it, Petunia?"
The obese man paused as he took in the sight of them, his head shaking and his skin purpling rapidly.
"Oh, no, I won't have anymore of this nonsense. We finally got rid of the ungrateful little bastard; I won't have more of your lot in my house."
Dumbledore ignored the man. He was all bluster for the most part and posed no threat to them.
"Where is Harry?" he pressed.
"We haven't seen the boy in three years!" Vernon growled.
Another wave of panic washed over the aged man and he quashed it before speaking once more.
"Would you kindly explain why?"
Petunia became suddenly uncomfortable as she looked between her husband and the seemingly calm, oddly dressed man.
"He left of his own accord. We woke up one morning and he was gone," she answered.
Dumbledore frowned. Something felt very wrong with the explanation.
"Did anything happen that led to his decision?"
Petunia shook her head frantically and Dumbledore sighed. He was certain they were keeping necessary information from him.
Meeting her eyes with his own, he caught a glimpse of a concerning image.
A much younger Harry was stood over a trembling, prone Vernon Dursley.
" I warned him I would make it hurt…"
A tightness filled his chest as he took in the words of the boy, the reminder of another of his students too glaring to ignore.
"What happened when Harry was younger? In the kitchen."
Both Dursley's paled as Moody, Bill, Sirius and Tonks looked at him questioningly.
"H-he somehow found out what he was. W-we never told him, and he was angry." The woman swallowed deeply before continuing. "He just came in and…lost it. I don't know what happened, but Vernon was not right for weeks after what he did."
Again, Dumbledore felt that things were being kept from him. Harry was not the type of child to act out for no reason. No, there was much more to it. The other prevailing question was just how he had discovered exactly what he was if he hadn't been told by them. Had someone else found him?
"What happened, Albus?" Sirius cut in irritably.
"Something that gives me reason to investigate further. I would appreciate if this was not mentioned to any other."
With but a look, he had frozen the muggles in place. It was not an action he relished, but it had proven to be necessary. They had no intentions of giving what he needed to truly understand the situation.
Fixing his stare on the woman, he delved into her thoughts with ease. Muggles had no defence against the mind arts and the intrusion was effortless on his part.
Any guilt he felt for what he was doing vanished immediately when he pulled forward any memories pertaining to her nephew. His heart wrenched as he became privy to the treatment the boy had received at the hands of his relatives. He never expected them to treat him as their own, but common decency should not have been a stretch for two reasonably wealthy people. Outright abuse, however, was not what he had been expecting, not like this.
The guilt he had experienced shifted towards Harry as he watched him, barely a toddler, being hit forcefully with a pan and Petunia scolding him as she dragged him to a cupboard under the stairs by his unkempt hair.
Having seen enough, he exited her mind and immediately switched his attention to the man, expecting worse but not prepared for what he saw.
He prided himself on being a man of control, but his usually genial countenance slipped as he witnessed the atrocities Vernon had exacted upon a young Harry. The sound of breaking bones, a belt buckle thudding against his back and the desperate pleading of a helpless boy rung in his ears as he pulled himself from the man's mind, a tear rolling into his beard, fighting down the anger pumping through his veins.
A reprieve of sorts came in the form of an owl arriving, seemingly through an open window. It deposited an envelope on the floor between the wizards and muggles before taking its leave.
Dumbledore picked it up with a trembling hand, breaking the seal immediately. He had expected little more than a warning for perceived use of underage magic from the undeniably flawed Misuse of Magic Office. What he read, however, caused him to release a deep sigh.
Dear Mr Potter,
It has come to our attention that, at 21:15, a patronus charm was used at your address.
As such, we request that you submit yourself for questioning to the Ministry of Magic regarding this incident at 9:00am on July 31 st .
Should any further incidences occur between now and then, appropriate action may be taken against you.
Yours sincerely,
Mafalda Hopkirk
Head of the Department of Misuse of Magic
He shook his head, recognising immediately what this was. It had Cornelius written all over it and his earlier suspicions only strengthened. Someone had sent the Dementors here and the Minister or someone close to him were responsible.
All summer, his own name had been dragged through the proverbial mud regularly in the Daily Prophet, though there had been no mention of Harry, likely only due to whatever action he took against Cuffe and Rita Skeeter the previous year. What he had done, Albus couldn't be certain but it had saved him from the same or worse aspersions being cast on him that he was currently being subjected to.
He needed to inform Harry of this development and he needed to consider everything that had transpired this evening. He had learnt much and many questions were forming, questions he was not certain he would like the answer to.
When he had viewed the memory of Harry and the Dark Lord in the graveyard, he had been rather dismissive of what he had seen the boy accomplish, but the memories of his relatives, his demeanour and actions had left no further excuses for his own ignorance.
The many things did not add up and he needed to get to the bottom of them. There was much to consider and, for now, he needed time to do so.
He fixed his stern glare on the Dursleys once more.
"Should Harry choose to pursue this, I will ensure that you are both punished to the full extent of my abilities," he whispered, his voice shaking as he released them from their frozen state.
Both shook their heads to clear whatever remained of his presence before Vernon once more purpled.
"The boy was a fucking waste…"
He was cut off as a fist was ploughed into his jaw courtesy of Sirius Black who managed to kick the downed man a few times before Moody and Bill tempted to restrain him.
"You do not talk about him that way," he seethed, fighting against the Ex-Auror and redhead, ignoring the screams of the man's wife.
Dumbledore did nothing to intervene. Each deserved much worse and would likely get it if Sirius were to learn the full extent of what they had done. There would be nothing that could stop him exacting what he deemed to be suitable vengeance upon the two. Now, however was not the time for such.
Now was the time to confront inclinations he had dismissed and to locate Harry.
The boy was safe, of that he had no doubt. Time and again, he had proven to be incredibly adept at taking care of himself, even if he did not agree with what he had done.
(Break)
Paris was very different from any other city he had visited. London had always proven to be fast-moving, a place where one was surrounded by many but could feel alone at the same time. People existed there in their own bubbles, a place where greeting a stranger was an alien concept.
Paris seemed to be much more sedate, the centre streets of which were lined with boutiques, cafés and a variety of other shops to entice the locals and tourists alike. Harry, however, was not here for the frivolities of France, perhaps he would get the chance to experience those one day, but he was here to meet with Sebastien.
The letter he had received from Fleur seemed to have been hurriedly scrawled and sent almost immediately after she had received his. Hedwig had returned only the next day bringing him instructions of where he would need to go.
He had taken an international portkey to France but was reluctant to do so. Much to his chagrin, he was quite recognisable, and even in the village close to his home, he wore glamours to conceal his identity.
He certainly wouldn't let the habit slip when venturing to where there was a higher chance of being spotted. He was not keen on anyone knowing of his movements or whereabouts, especially not where he lived. That was a secret none would know.
Easing his way through the crowds, he checked the piece of parchment for the address he needed to find. He had managed to locate the street, but not the building.
Frowning, he approached another that appeared to be dilapidated, feeling a wave of magic wash over him as he neared. The wards were not what he would expect of a government building that held such importance, but when he rang a buzzer by the door and was admitted, he could understand why.
He found himself in a large circular hall, the walls adorned with solid, oak doors and each guarded by a witch or wizard in blue robes. The wards on the outside may have been rather elementary, those within, however, were strong and pressed against him as he approached the single desk in the centre of the room.
" Welcome to the Ministry of Magic," the blonde woman sat behind greeted him pleasantly. "How may I help you?"
" I'm here to meet with Sebastien Delacour. He is expecting me."
The woman nodded and tapped the desk with her wand. Immediately, one of the cloaked figures snapped to attention before entering the door he was guarding.
" Please, take a seat. Monsieur Delacour will be with you momentarily."
Turning to locate the seating area, he found that a single chair had appeared behind him where one hadn't been only a moment ago. Thinking little of it, he sat and noticed the woman continuing to look at him.
" You are not French?"
He shook his head in response.
" I came from Italy," he answered, not dishonestly.
She nodded thoughtfully and returned to her work; her curiosity sated.
Harry continued to wait, something that did not last long as the same door the guard entered open only a moment later revealing the blue-robed man and Sebastien who headed towards him, his eyes narrowed before they widened in recognition.
" Hello, my friend, I apologise for keeping you waiting," he greeted him, gesturing for him to follow.
He did so and soon found himself outside once more amongst the hustle and bustle of the French capital.
"I'm sorry, 'Arry, I should 'ave expected that you would come in disguise. I forget 'ow famous you are."
"I wish everyone else would."
Sebastien nodded his understanding.
"I will apparate you to the ward line of our 'ome. You will 'ave no need of a glamour there."
Harry nodded appreciatively and took the proffered arm. He had never been side-apparated before and he didn't care for it after the experience. The sensation was much worse than normal, and it was harder to stay balanced when landing. Much to his relief, he managed to steady himself.
"That was not fun," he grumbled.
"Non, it is not," Sebastien agreed as he withdrew his wand and began twirling it in intricate patterns.
Harry's eyebrows rose, recognising the level of security the man had around his property. It would take an army to break in, if they could find the house in the first place.
"I will need a little of your blood."
He nodded appreciatively as he drew his own wand across the tip of his finger, relinquishing a single drop.
"Are blood wards legal here?"
Sebastien shook his head.
"Non, very illegal 'ere, but who will know if my 'ome is unplottable?"
Harry snorted.
Blood wards were exceptionally powerful if cast and maintained correctly. He too had implemented them on his own property, though he didn't know what use they would be since Voldemort had used his blood in his resurrection. It was unlikely that it was Harry's blood that flowed through his veins, however, so it was not a pressing matter.
He frowned at the thought.
He would need to ponder it further, even if there was only one other option and he was loath to use it, it may be needed.
"Aha," Sebastien exclaimed, interrupting his thoughts. "You may want to remove your disguise. I do not think Fleur would be 'appy to see a stranger with me."
Harry did so and his features reverted natural form, the brown hair to black, the blue eyes to green and his skin tone darkening from his weeks in the sun.
"You look 'ealthy. It is good to see," Sebastien commented before leading him over the ward line and bringing the property into view.
He knew that the Delacours were a well-known and respected family in France, but he had never considered their wealth and had certainly not expected what was before him.
The grounds were enormous, rolling hills that led towards what had likely once been a castle on a hill, though it now resembled a large and modern stately home. It was at least double the size of his own and his villa was not a small home by any stretch.
It took only five minutes of walking before they reached an iron gate that towered above them, and once more, Sebastien went to work with his wand.
It popped open after a moment and the man sealed is shut with a few muttered words before turning to him.
"You will not 'ave to do this anymore. You are now keyed into the wards. You can come and go as you please."
He nodded appreciatively as the front door opened and Fleur ran towards them, pausing only a few feet away as though torn on what she should do.
Sebastien looked between them briefly before shaking his head.
"I will see you in the 'ouse," he chuckled as he left them.
"You've grown," Fleur said nervously, looking up at him.
It was not something he had noticed. The two of them had been the same height the night of the ball. He remembered it vividly; he had not had to lean down to kiss her. Now, he would. He was a few inches taller than her at least.
"I've not paid attention to it," he replied.
She nodded and began fidgeting with her hands.
"'Arry, I'm sorry, about everything…"
"We both could have handled things better," he interrupted. "I didn't exactly make it easy for you."
"Non, you did not," she sighed, "but I should 'ave been more understanding."
"And I should have remembered not to upset a veela."
He grinned and she laughed, breaking the awkwardness between them with a single gesture.
"I did warn you, the first night we met," she reminded him.
"You did."
She offered him a sad smile before she threw her arms around his neck.
"I am sorry," she whispered. "I've missed you."
He held her closer as he nodded his agreement. He had been busy trying to right the wrongs he felt within himself, but he had thought of her. However, he hadn't realised just how much he'd missed her until he had her in his arms. It was still an alien feeling to experience, but he did not want to shy away from it. It made him happy and that had been the last thing had wished for him, it was what he wanted for himself.
"I missed you."
They stayed that way for a few moments, simply enjoying the comfort of one another before fleur reluctantly broke away.
"Maman and Gabrielle will want to see you."
"Well, your sister already has. She's hiding behind the front door," Harry replied.
Fleur narrowed her eyes as she stalked towards the house and pushed opened the front door, shouting in French at the younger girl who merely giggled and ran to greet him.
"'Ello 'Arry," she said with an innocent smile adorning her lips.
"Hello, Gabrielle. Have you been upsetting your sister?"
The girl shook her head.
"Non, but she 'asn't shut up about you."
"Gabby!"
"It is true," the little veela replied.
"I wish I 'ad never taught you English," Fleur muttered, beckoning for Harry to follow her into the house.
Gabrielle bounced happily alongside him and he shot her a grin of amusement.
She was a precocious child but very sweet with it. He found her to be very amusing and wondered if he could convince her to go to Hogwarts, if only to keep Terry in line.
He shook his head at that thought.
He wanted to keep her away from wizarding Britain. He too was occasionally plagued by thoughts of simply running away, but it was not in his nature to do so. He had his apprenticeships starting this year and there was work to be done in the country.
Perhaps one day he would leave, though, not until he had done what was necessary and if he lived, of course.
The inside of the home was neutrally decorated with several family portraits spanning the years lining the walls. There were pictures of only Fleur and her parents and then with Gabrielle included when she had been added to the mix. What was the same in each of them was the happiness each exuded, the bright smiles that he had missed out on growing up with his own parents. If this is what a normal family was, he couldn't help but feel that he missed out on more than just the absence of James and Lily Potter.
It was not something he was truly bitter about any longer, but there would always be those lingering questions that could never be answered. What would his life have been like? How would he have turned out?
No matter the question, he knew things would be very different. He would be very different.
"It is good to see you, 'Arry," Apolline greeted him warmly, smiling as she closed the distance between them and pulled him into an embrace.
The feeling was still one he was not used to, but he no longer stiffened when it happened and the discomfort of being in such proximity to another lasted but a fleeting second.
"It's good to see you, Mrs Delacour."
She pushed him away from her, looking him over with a critical eye before nodding satisfactorily.
"You 'ave been eating, non? Been taking care of yourself?"
He nodded as another odd feeling came over him. Never in his life had anyone enquired about his health.
"Good. I know what you men can be like when you are alone. I went to visit my mother when I was pregnant with Fleur for a while, and when I came back, it was as though a bomb 'ad gone off. I found Sebastien in 'is underwear singing loudly. 'E 'ad not shaved for days," she explained, shooting a look of disapproval towards her husband.
"In my defence, you came 'ome early. If you 'ad come back when planned, you never would 'ave known."
"I would 'ave known, Sebastien Delacour. You cannot keep secrets from me."
The man grinned and nodded almost mockingly, provoking a glare from his wife.
Harry found the resemblance between her and her daughter to be almost uncanny. Both in fact took after the woman in looks, though Gabby seemed to have a little more of a mischievous side which likely came from her father.
"Do take a seat, 'Arry, and ignore Sebastien. 'E seems to think that now there is another male 'ere, someone will, 'ow do they say, stick up for 'im?"
He chuckled as he sat, shrugging at the man.
"We would still be outnumbered," he pointed out.
"Oui, it is true," Sebastien sighed. "Let me tell you, 'arry, there could be twenty of us 'ere and we would not win. I am used to not winning, not at 'ome."
"You speak as though your life is a difficult one, my love," Apolline broke in as she began placing plates of food on the table.
"Non, I am very blessed with what I 'ave, but living with three veela is not easy at times. When Gabby reaches 'er maturity, I do not doubt it will become 'arder."
"Oh, shush, you would not 'ave it any other way."
The man smiled unwittingly as he nodded.
To Harry, eating dinner at a table with others in such an intimate setting was not something he had done much in his life, only with the Delacours in truth. He would admit that it was a pleasant thing, even if he did feel out of place, though it started to feel as if he was experiencing one of the many things he had been missing out on.
Dinner turned out to be quite a subdued affair in all. Apolline ensured that he ate his fill and Gabrielle continued to ask probing questions, only stopping when Sebastien intervened, albeit reluctantly. He found the antics of his daughter amusing, despite the chastisement of his wife he would receive for laughing.
Harry found the relationship between the two rather endearing. The girl had her father wrapped around her finger. A single pout from her and he would succumb to the seemingly innocent nature of the girl. No other was fooled by the act, but Sebastien was. According to both Fleur and Apolline, he never learned and remained ignorant of the less than angelic side of his youngest.
"Fleur, why don't you show 'Arry to 'is room? I'm sure 'e could do with a good night sleep, non?"
The girl nodded and stood, gesturing for him to follow.
"Sleep well, 'Arry," Sebastien offered with a smile. "If there is anything you need, you only have to ask."
"Thank you," he replied gratefully, ignoring the stab of awkwardness he felt once more.
He had never been welcomed in the home of another, not even by his own family who had barely tolerated his presence. With Sirius, it was different. He did not see Grimmauld Place as his home and the place was so neglected that it did not feel like one. With the Delacours, it felt that they wanted him there.
He shook his head of the thought as Fleur paused at a door and opened it with a tap of her wand.
"This one is yours," she announced. "You 'ave your own bathroom and the door at the back leads to the grounds. My room is three doors down, so I'm there if you need me."
He nodded gratefully and offered her a smile.
"I'm glad you came, 'Arry. I really missed you," she said shyly as she tentatively wrapped her arms around him.
He held her close as he had upon his arrival.
The lack of experience both had in such thins had only become more apparent now that he had acknowledged just what was happening between them. Before, it had been easy to dismiss the awkwardness by insisting that they were simply both socially inept in their own way. Now, with what was beginning to blossom, he could no longer ignore the fact that they were clueless. It was something they would have to learn and explore together.
"I missed you."
She broke away and planted a kiss on his cheek before taking her leave.
Lost in thought, Harry went about setting up his trunk before taking a shower, wondering what advice Tom would give him were he still here.
He knew not, but the man would be happy for him, of that, he was certain.
(Break)
Sebastien watched the boy as he ate his breakfast, a smile tugging at his lips as he noticed how relaxed he was. When he had first met Harry, he was on edge, ready to either flee or defend himself at a moment's notice. It was not easy to see one so young carry himself such. When he had learned of why, he understood, and he couldn't pretend that it hadn't bothered him.
Here was a young boy that had endured so much, and yet, there was none willing to be there for him. It was almost as if the world had forgotten about Harry Potter.
He too had been forgotten once and though he didn't face what Harry had, he remembered those days well. If he could help him see that there was some good in the world and that he didn't have to face the rest alone, he would feel like he had helped in some way.
In only a second, the relaxed demeanour of the boy gave way to the familiar vigilance as he flicked his wand into his hand and conjured a golden dome over the table, a burst of fire heralding an unexpected visitor to the meal as the spell encompassed them all.
To say that he was surprised by the speed in which he responded would be an understatement. The spell itself was of an ability that very few could ever hope to replicate, but it was how he knew to act that had the man flummoxed. The wards were keyed to him and he had felt no disturbance.
The phoenix that arrived looked upon them and simply waited to be greeted.
"I did not account for phoenixes when pacing the wards," he grumbled.
"Neither did I with mine," Harry replied, frowning at his wand for a moment before turning his attention to the bird and dropping the shield. "Hello, Fawkes."
The phoenix squawked and landed on his shoulder, depositing a thick envelope into his hand. Without further preamble, it took to the air and vanished in another plume of fire.
None spoke as Harry opened and read two separate missives, a snort of derision escaping him when he had finished.
"Is everything okay?" Sebastien asked.
"Just the Ministry being prats and Dumbledore being an interfering git," Harry replied, handing him the letters.
The first was an odd one courtesy of the former summoning him for questioning pertaining to an incident that had happened at his relative's home.
"I can safely assume that is was not you?"
"No, but I'm guessing someone sent the Dementors thinking I was there, and that same person is responsible for that letter. It does make me wonder why someone who could cast a patronus was there," he finished with a frown.
Sebastien was pondering the very same and he muttered under his breath.
"Well, I do not wish to jump to conclusions, but since Albus 'ad this in his possession, I am guessing 'e was on the scene very quickly. That would mean 'e 'as the 'ouse being watched."
Harry nodded his agreement, a deep frown marring his features.
"I suppose it would be Fudge who is responsible for the Dementors. A ploy to wrest you under 'is control. You saw 'ow he reacted to being told of the return of Voldemort."
Again, Harry could find nothing disagreeable about what had been said.
"This is quite serious, 'Arry," Sebastien sighed.
"No, it isn't," Harry sighed. "The worse they can do is expel me."
"Non, that is not what you want. Despite 'ow well you are doing, you will need your qualifications. Very few jobs are available without them."
"I already have all my OWLS and two NEWTS," Harry explained. "I only need to get the rest and I could do those anytime. Madame Marchbanks would probably do them for me if I asked her.
"Wait, you already 'ave two NEWTS? Why are you going back to 'Ogwarts? Did you know about this?" he asked, aiming the last question at his daughter who shook her head, her expression one of surprise.
"Non, I knew 'e did 'is OWLS in charms and transfiguration at the end of 'is third year."
"I did the rest this year. Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall have offered me an apprenticeship under them for their subjects."
Sebastien's eyes widened as he shook his head.
"Why did you not mention it? This is something that should be celebrated, 'Arry!"
"I didn't think it was important."
Sebastien sighed, his heart sinking. Evidently, no one had taken much interest in his schooling other than the two professors. What he had achieved was astounding and he need to know just how exceptional it was.
"Well, we will celebrate it tonight. What you 'ave done is spectacular, 'Arry. I am very proud of you."
"As am I," Apolline added, her own smile filled with the same pride he felt.
The boy appeared to be confused by the praise and nodded uncertainly.
"You may think we are making a big deal out of this, but that's because it is," Sebastien explained. "I cannot think of anyone who 'as done the same. So, we will celebrate tonight and worry about this tomorrow, non?" he suggested, gesturing to the pieces of parchment.
(Break)
Being the centre of attention had never been something he was comfortable with, likely because whenever he had found himself in such a position, it was due to something negative.
Throughout his life with the Dursleys, attention had only been paid to him when he had committed a perceived slight against them. Usually, he would be beaten or verbally dressed down.
At school, it had been the revelation that he was a parselmouth that had resulted in him being spoken of as though he were a budding dark lord and then his entry into the tournament the previous year.
Last night had been a new experience. For once, he was praised for something he had done, praised for the hard work and diligence he had shown towards his pursuits.
To him, it had been but normality, but to the Delacours, he had gone above and beyond what any could hope to expect from him, though no one had ever expressed expectations to him when it came to his learning.
Apolline had gone out of her way to prepare a veritable banquet for the five of them and Sebastien had presented him with two apprentice trunks that were filled with all he would need over the next years of studying. He had received gifts since he started Hogwarts but none so thoughtful and none that struck a nerve with him in such a way.
For the first time in his life, people were taking an interest in him for what appeared to be no other reason than they seemed to care for him.
That in itself was an odd concept and a part of him was awaiting the punchline of a poorly constructed joke at his expense, though he could not imagine that coming.
Nothing the Delacours had done seemed to have any ulterior motive nor had he any reason to suspect them of anything. It was indeed an unfamiliar but not unwelcome feeling.
"Are you sure you do not wish for me to accompany you?" Sebastien asked, breaking into his thoughts. "As a member of the ICW, I could make quite the difference."
Harry appreciated the offer but shook his head, nonetheless.
"No. I appreciate the offer, but the less people know about what connections I have, the less likely they will come looking here. I know your wards are powerful, but Voldemort will find a way in here if he decides he wants to. Besides, Fudge has nothing on me. He's posturing because he wants to live in denial for as long as he can. No doubt Malfoy is whispering in his ear."
Sebastien frowned as he nodded.
"Very well," he sighed, conceding the point, "but I want you to take a portkey that will bring you back 'ere when you are finished. There is no reason for you to be there longer than necessary."
That was not entirely true. Harry could think of six reasons he needed to be there. Not that he was ready to share that information with any, yet.
"I will come back," he reassured the man who let out a deep breath, relieved he had agreed.
In truth, he wanted to come back. He had been here less than forty-eight hours and had spent very little time with Fleur overall who had opted to take her final exams despite being pardoned of them with her selection as a champion.
Having learned that he had his NEWT in transfiguration, she had all but begged him to help her with the subject that she was not so confident in. She was not bad by any stretch, but her magic was much more inclined towards charms, something she needed no help with.
"And you will return tomorrow, non?"
"I will," Harry replied, accepting the fork that Sebastien had turned into the portkey he had insisted he took.
"How will you be getting to England?"
"I have an international portkey that goes between my house and Hogsmeade," Harry answered.
"You were granted that?"
"Not exactly."
Sebastien chuckled amusedly.
"Well, the wards will unlikely make that work 'ere, 'Arry. I'm sure I will not 'ear the end of it if Fleur does not get to walk with you alone."
The girl narrowed her eyes at her father as she nodded.
"Be safe 'Arry and send for us if you need," Apolline offered as she gave him a hug.
"I will," he promised.
"And do not get into anymore trouble if you can 'elp it," she added.
"I don't try to get into trouble. It usually finds me."
"I know, but try to avoid it, non?"
He nodded before following Fleur from the front door and the pair began walking across the grounds towards the boundary of the wards.
"I cannot believe what they are doing," she growled irritably.
"Fudge is a coward and is trying to discredit me," Harry replied with a shrug. "He would sooner do that than admit he is back."
"I know, but I don't like it, 'Arry. Do you really 'ave to go back?"
"Only for a day and then I will be back here tomorrow."
She nodded, a slight pout forming on her lips.
"It just feels we 'ave not seen each other."
"We haven't, not really," he sighed. "We can make up for it. I will still have a month before I go back to school."
"Do you feel safe at 'Ogwarts?"
He shook his head.
"I've never been safe there, but I wouldn't be safer anywhere else. I know the castle better than anyone, so it makes no sense for me to go elsewhere. I know you don't like it, but if it comes to it, I can leave once I have done my NEWTS and make arrangements with McGonagall and Flitwick about my apprenticeship."
"I know. I just worry about you 'Arry."
He took her hands in is own as they reached the edge of the property and gave as reassuring a smile as he could muster.
"I can't promise everything will be okay. I would only be lying, but if it gets to a stage where things are getting out of control, I will leave Britain."
She returned the smile and nodded.
"For now, I have to deal with Fudge and whatever scheme the idiot has come up with."
"What do you think will 'appen?"
"Nothing, if I can help it. I'm not going to let him bully or coerce me into anything. If he doesn't like it, him and the rest of Britain can piss off. I certainly won't go out of my way when they come crying because Voldemort surfaces and is killing them."
"So, you would not fight?" she asked hopefully.
"I didn't say that," he sighed, a twinge of guilt tugging at him as her face fell, "but I wouldn't do any favours for them. The fight is mine, I can't run away from that, but I don't have to do anything for any of them. When I've done what I need to, there's no reason for me to be there anymore. Maybe then I will get some peace from the staring and rumours."
Fleur squeezed his hands.
"They do not deserve you, 'Arry Potter," she whispered before placing a chaste kiss on his lips.
When they broke apart, the somewhat rashness of his words started to ring true. There was no reason for him to stay once Voldemort had been dealt with. He could visit Sirius and any other as though he lived only a short distance away, as was the gift of magic.
Within him, he found another goal to work towards. He would still work on rebuilding the family fortune and pursuing his yet to be determined career, but the idea of doing so away from Britain began to appeal to him more as he considered it further. A life where none bothered him, and he could be free from all the constraints that being Harry Potter had brought.
" I will see you tomorrow," he promised.
" Oui," she replied breathily. "If you are not back by evening, I will come looking for you."
He laughed at her words knowing that she had spoken them only half-jokingly.
Releasing her, he stepped over the wards and waved before activating his own portkey that deposited him near the Shrieking Shack. Having no reason to be here, he cast a series of glamours and apparated to Diagon Alley to confront another issue that had been plaguing him since the night of the third task.
At first, he had blamed his magic for being unsettled for his wand no longer working as it had been prior to the event, but his magic had been fine for some time now, and yet, the same issue was recurring.
Having navigated the crowd one would find on any summer's day, he entered Ollivander's, the bell above the door chiming merrily announcing his arrival. Much to his relief, he found the shop empty other than the eerily, grey-eyed man stood behind the counter stacking wands onto already impossibly high piles of thin boxes.
"Hello, how may I help you today?" Ollivander greeted him.
Harry flicked his wand into his hand and offered it to the man whose eyes widened as he recognised it. With a flick of his own, the door locked, and the windows were obscured by closing blinds.
"There is something wrong with my wand," he answered. "Ever since something happened, it has not been working as it was."
Ollivander nodded thoughtfully before speaking.
"It was quite something the first time you visited, Mr Potter," he began. "The combination of your wand raised questions that were not my place to ask. I had my suspicions, but I chose not to dwell on them."
"What suspicions?"
The man released a deep sigh, looking at him with curiosity.
"The first I presented to you was one of holly and phoenix feather, that being a partial match. The second was of yew and dragon heartstring, another partial match. The the two were fused together to create the wand you hold now."
Harry nodded, remembering it well.
"What I found to be curious was that the phoenix whose core resides in your wand gave one other feather, a feather that was placed inside a wand of yew. Now, Mr Potter, who do you think claimed that one?"
The answer came to him immediately and he felt his stomach sink.
"Voldemort."
Ollivander nodded.
"Indeed. Quite the curious coincidence, however, I kept any suspicion I had to myself. As I said, it was not my place to question such a thing, though it does leave me to question as to why you no longer have a connection to certain parts of your wand."
"So, that's what you think it is?"
"I do. A wand does not simply stop working or break a connection with a wizard. Such things only happen if the allegiance is won by another. From when I inspected yours during the weighing ceremony, such a thing would not be possible. The bond you shared with your wand was exceptional."
"I don't quite get it."
"Wandlore is a very complex branch of magic, Mr Potter. Tell me, has anything significant happened to you that could explain the reason a part of your wand would no longer be connected to you?"
His heart sunk once more as he nodded reluctantly.
"Rumours are abound, Mr Potter. One need only look at the world around us to see the coming changes."
"Voldemort came back," Harry answered.
"I have heard such rumours. I mean on a more personal level, not that I am asking you to divulge such."
Harry released a deep breath as he nodded, dropping his glamour.
"My scar is gone. It's all that was left over from the night he tried to kill me."
Ollivander hummed, his eyes flicking to the faded lightning bolt on his brow.
"I expect the scar carried some residual magic from that night and influenced what wand would fully bond with you. Now the magic is no longer there, the connection to those elements has broken. Allow me," he requested, "I believe I know what will fix your problem."
Harry handed over the wand and watched as the man went into the workshop at the rear of the shop.
Learning that he and Voldemort had shared wand cores had been quite the revelation and the thought repulsed him. However, it was not Voldemort's influence that had chosen those part of his wand, it was Tom's. Despite what he became, it was Tom Riddle that had purchased the wand of yew with a phoenix feather core and not Voldemort.
His thoughts were broken when the man returned a few minutes later and handed him a brown wand, identical to very first that had partially bonded with him four-years-ago.
A rush of warmth spread throughout his body, stronger than even the two combined had given him when he first held the fused pair. Whatever the wandmaker had done had undoubtedly fixed any issues he was having.
"11 ¾ inches, holly with a dragon heartstring core; the wand you were destined to carry," Ollivander explained.
Harry nodded having expected it when the man had somewhat identified the connection between himself and Voldemort.
"What about the yew and phoenix feather?"
"It is not your wand, Mr Potter, however, if you wish, I can decommission it and you may keep it. I'm sure that although the connection shared is unpleasant, it served you well whilst in your possession."
He could only nod gratefully in response, his thoughts occupied.
Once more, the man left him and returned after a slightly longer absence than before with a box.
"The wand will no longer work but it will serve as a reminder that we can change as we grow, Mr Potter. The very boy that purchased one that shares a core did and I expect you will do the same, though in a different way."
"Thank you, Mr Ollivander," he replied, heeding the words spoken. "What do I owe you?"
"You owe me nothing, Mr Potter. Your wand has already been paid for."
Harry accepted the box and slid his own wand into the holster before exiting the shop.
It was a bittersweet feeling learning the truth of his wands' origins. On one hand, he was sad that the final connection he had to Tom was all but gone, but on the other, he felt liberated.
He still mourned for the loss of the one that had guided him over the years, but now, he truly felt like his own person. There was no longer a Tom and Harry. It was just him, and for the first time since Tom had been taken, he felt that everything could be okay without him.