Chapter 24: Correspondence with a Veela
September 30th, 1993
Beauxbaton Academy
Fleur Delacour was lonely, but she would never show it. Today she sat down for breakfast at the small tables that were scattered around the Beauxbaton equivalent to the Great Hall and started eating some pastries and croissants. Today was her 16th birthday and she would be spending it all by herself.
Her father and mother were at work. Her sister is still in wizarding primary school, she would be joining Fleur at Beauxbaton next year, once she turns eleven in spring. Fleur had started her fifth year this term and it had been one of the worst so far.
Right at the beginning of summer, she had undergone her Veela maturity. She was extremely proud that it had happened so early. It was proof of how powerful she was and might become, but it also meant that things got a lot worse in school for her.
Not on the academic side, no. She still performed best in all her classes, chasing her goal of becoming an enchantress or curse breaker. She will sit her OWLs next year, as was the tradition in Beauxbaton, even though Fleur was sure she could complete a couple of subjects already.
No, what had gotten even worse was all the staring from the boys and the envious, jealous looks from the girls.
Before her maturity, she had been a beautiful girl. Now, she was breathtaking. Before her maturity, the boys would usually take a look at her, catch themselves staring after some time, and return to whatever they were doing, while blushing.
Now they continued staring. Very few had the mental power to snap out of it by themselves. Even some of the male teachers were struggling and all of them were highly accomplished wizards.
She had not once encountered a boy that could hold a normal conversation with her. Well, technically that was not true, Fleur thought. She had met one boy. But it was less of a conversation than just insults she had to endure whenever meeting him.
She remembered the boy well, but then again, how could she not... It was Harry Potter. The British enigma and the one to humble her. After their duel and Potter's disqualification, people started congratulating her. But Fleur could not even look at them. It did not feel like a victory.
She had lost. According to the officials, she had won the competition, but Fleur knew that she had lost the actual duel. For the first time in her life, she had truly lost a duel, not counting any of the practice duels she frequently held with her Papa and instructor of course. No, this had been an actual duel she had lost.
The boy had toyed with her. Ripping the blossoms from the stem of the flower one by one. She still remembered being at his mercy. The pressure of the water in her lungs, the feeling of drowning. She remembers the pleading look she had shot at him and she remembered how realization had set in his eyes and he instantly dropped the horrible spell.
Admittedly, she had performed very badly in the duel. The boy was good, no question, but Fleur firmly believes that if she had kept her cool and not let him provoke her as he did, then she would have beaten him. She saw how exhausted he was after they had been trading spells for that long.
It was just not something she had been prepared for. It had always been her that easily got into her opponent's heads. Never the other way around. Harry Potter had done what no one else had before him.
The boy was truly an enigma. Fleur did not know how he resisted her Allure so well. She had fully flashed him with her magic, even keeping eye contact. But the green-eyed boy only took a second to shrug it off, as if it had been nothing.
He was slightly affected, though. Fleur noticed his eyes on him, during her final match in the Under-16 Championship. She had noticed his appraising looks and the way he had searched the crowd for her, after almost every single one of his duels.
Fleur had of course disillusioned herself before watching him. She could not grant him the satisfaction of letting him know that she considered him a threat. But she did. And she had watched every single one of his duels.
How she wished his personality had been different. In a perfect world, he would be able to keep his composure around her but not be the complete asshole he was during the tournament. She would have liked a friend. Someone she could talk to that would not get jealous of her, like the girls or check her out and only stare at her, like the boys.
Fleur hoped she would never meet him again, for as long as her dueling career would continue. The boy had much potential, and he would surely surpass her one day, but not quite yet. Still, secretly she hoped he would be disqualified from ever dueling again.
Her thoughts shifted back to the breakfast in front of her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the post owls arrive. There was not much going on in magical France at the moment. Magical Britain, however, was a different story. Fleur had followed some of the events that had taken place, over at the other side of the channel.
Sirius Black had broken out of prison and had been caught at Hogwarts, but that wasn't it. Harry Potter had exposed the real criminal and saved Black, some Hogwarts professors, and British Ministry personnel from over one hundred dementors.
At first, Fleur had not believed the article when she had read it in the French newspaper a few days ago. However, her Papa had confirmed the story. The British Ministry had asked for an expert on experimental and ancient magic and her Papa had heard about it at work. Somehow, even the French experts that had been sent over, had no clue as to what kind of magic Potter had been using.
Harry Potter had used a spell unknown to the rest of the entire magical world to kill a dementor. Fleur herself had only recently started learning the Patronus. She was far ahead of her peers, but it was not fully corporeal yet. How did the boy manage to do it, then? She would love to see the memory of it, but her Papa had told her that it was all highly classified.
She skipped over the article in today's newspaper while taking another bite of her croissant. She frowned suddenly. Harry Potter had given a statement on his plans concerning dueling and his last duel against her.
She read the entirety of the statement multiple times and could hardly believe what was said. It was not a full apology, but she could tell that he felt sorry for what spell he had put her under. Fleur swallowed: He planned on competing in the Under-18 category in Moscow next year, just as she was planning on doing. So, they would meet each other again...
In any case, she still felt conflicted about his statement. He had stopped his spell and still got disqualified for it, while Fleur herself had used her very lethal Veela fire and burned him close to his head and neck.
Obviously, the judges had been very biased against him, but it still did not feel right to be congratulated for her victory. They had both taken things too far and she had mocked him equally, calling him a little boy.
But now he had reached out to her, obviously trying to build a bridge. He congratulated her on her victory saying it was well deserved, as well. What should she do? She did not want to encounter Harry Potter during the next tournament without clearing things up between them.
The boy might take it as an insult if she did not reach out to him in return, wouldn't he?
Deciding to simply write him a quick letter and show her gratitude, Fleur reached into her bag and pulled out some parchment, an ink bottle, and her favorite quill.
Harry Potter
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
She began writing.
October 1st, 1993
Harry was pissed. That was probably an understatement. He was beyond pissed. All around him cups and plates started shaking as Harry read the headline of the Daily Prophet's morning edition:
Pettigrew escaped during transport to Azkaban!
How could they let this happen? How incompetent actually was the Ministry? All of his and Sirius' hard work was for nothing. He barely noticed his magical outburst around him until Terry put a hand on his shoulder:
"It's okay, Harry, you will be safe here at Hogwarts." The boy says sincerely.
Harry looked at him perplexed and roared in laughter:
"You think I am scared he might be coming for me, Terry? I could beat this little rat into a bloody pulp while being blindfolded. No, he will not come here, he knows better than that."
Harry was about to leave the Great Hall when another owl landed in front of him. It was a very beautiful brown owl with bright intelligent eyes. The owl looked at him and expectantly held out her foot, at which a letter was attached.
Harry frowned who could have sent him that letter? He had ordered Dobby to start scanning his mail and separate any fan mail from actual correspondence. Usually, only Gringotts sent him a letter, keeping him up to date on all of his investments.
He took the letter and was shocked when he read the name of the sender.
Fleur Isabelle Delacour
Beauxbaton Academy
Why the hell was Delacour writing him a letter? Was this a legal notice, informing him that the Delacour family would finally take legal action against the spell he had used on their daughter? Or was this her response to Harry's statement two days ago?
There was only one way to find out. He had to read it, but certainly not here In the Great Hall. He gave the owl a piece of bacon and took his leave from the Great Hall, holding the envelope firmly in his hands.
Checking the Map, he made his way down to the Chamber.
"What's got you in such a sour mood?" Salazar greeted him as he entered the Quarters.
"Pettigrew! He's escaped! They had him captured and he somehow escaped during the transport to Azkaban!" Harry roared, smashing a plate from a late-night snack he had left down here against a wall.
"Ruining my chamber will not get him back to prison, my heir. You need to calm yourself."
Harry nodded and focused on the excises from the book Dumbledore had given him before the start of term:
"We know that he won't be looking for me. He is too scared and not a fighter. This is still bad though. He might be looking for Voldemort and with Pettigrew's help, he might make a comeback quicker than we thought."
Salazar nodded: "There is little we can do about it now. Let's focus on your education and training."
"Before we do that, I also received a letter from Fleur Delacour." Harry frowned.
"Ahh, receiving mail from the pretty Veela? Well, open it up!" Salazar chuckled, while Harry rolled his eyes.
He opened the envelope and pulled out the neatly written letter, it was written in French, but he had no trouble understanding it.
Harry Potter
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Dear Monsieur Potter,
I have been following the British news over the last couple of weeks and want to congratulate you on proving your Godfather's innocence in court and winning his freedom. To me, personally, family is the most important thing in my life. I am certain you will agree with me after spending some well-deserved time with your Godfather.
I also came across your statement regarding the Championship in Paris and our duel. I thank you for acknowledging my victory, but truth be told, I am unsure if either of us deserved to leave that stage as a winner. You were not the only one who let things get out of hand that day and regrets his actions.
I am glad you suffered no lasting injuries from my magical outburst. I lost control of my emotions and my volatile nature got the better of me. This certainly will not happen again. I look forward to meeting you on the platform again next summer when we both compete in the same class.
Until then, I wish you a successful school year and an enjoyable time getting to know your godfather.
Best regards
Fleur Isabelle Delacour
Beauxbaton Academy
He had certainly not expected such an honest and enjoyable letter from the uptight French competitor. It had been a really pleasant read and Delacour touched upon all the right points and seemingly felt very similar to him.
Admittedly, it was somewhat of a relief that the French champion had no hurt feelings toward him. He had been looking forward to seeing her again next summer. Now that he knew she would be competing as well, things might get even more interesting.
"So…" Salazar interrupted his thoughts with a grin. "What does the pretty bird want?"
"She just admitted that she felt conflicted about her victory as well and congratulated me on proving Sirius' innocence. It was a very nice read. I will respond to her over the next couple of days."
Salazar regarded his heir with a knowing grin: "Anyways, let's get back to your training, that will take your mind off things."
Indeed, that would distract Harry. His daily routine was rough so far:
He usually woke up around 6.00 am for his daily run and workout in the ROR. Afterwards, he showered in the room and made his way down to breakfast in the Great Hall. Due to his three electives, he had classes until around 4.00 pm each day.
Then he made his way to the Chamber of Secrets and used the time turner. While his original self sat in classes, the Harry sent back in time would follow his own studies in Salazar's Chamber or practice dueling in the ROR against the training dummies.
After merging with his past self, he usually joined Terry and some other students from his year in the library to finish some homework for the rest of the afternoon. Then he did some light reading or Occlumency exercises after dinner and before going to bed.
Harry fell asleep completely exhausted almost every night, especially now that he started practicing becoming an Animagus under McGonagall on Saturdays and continuing his dueling exercises with Flitwick each Sunday.
But all of it was worth it. He was progressing quickly in every field.
October 14th, 1993
Today was a Hogsmeade weekend and after his training with Flitwick, Harry would meet Sirius at the Three Broomsticks, later in the afternoon. First though, he would do some light shopping with Terry, Susan, and Hannah before Daphne and Tracey would join them as well.
Susan had thankfully been very forgiving of Harry lying to her and fully understood the circumstances. Harry noticed that the red-haired Hufflepuff liked to stay very close to him when shopping and asked him for his opinion on pretty much every item that caught her eye.
Harry enjoyed her company, but he did not know whether he wanted to go on any actual dates yet. Girls could be pretty distracting and Delacour was the living proof for that. He had written back to the French beauty a couple of days after receiving her letter and could not keep her out of his thoughts for long.
Fleur Delacour
Beauxbaton Academy
Dear Mademoiselle Delacour,
I wish to thank you for your letter, for your honesty and sincerity. I must admit, I had not expected any statement from your side. Nevertheless, I found myself pleasantly surprised when receiving your letter.
The time spent with my godfather has been unlike anything I have experienced before. I am not 100% certain you will be able to relate to me, as I grew up without any magical relatives. However, I agree with you, when you mention that family is of utmost importance, and I am thrilled, I finally get to experience this myself.
I am glad we both feel like our match did not bring out the best in either of us. Trust me when I say that I have learned my lesson and the scar on my shoulder shall serve me well as a reminder, never to anger a French witch like that again.
I would like to express my apology for holding you under that spell for so long and I give you my word that a similar situation shall never occur again.
I look forward to competing against you, once more. Also, best of luck with what should be your OWL year at Beauxbaton Academy, if I am not mistaken.
Kind regards,
Harry James Potter
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
So far, he had not received a reply from her and did not expect one. If he assumed correctly that she will be taking her OWLs this year, she probably had better things to do, than write to a 'little boy', who studied on the other side of the channel.
Harry was sitting at a table at the Three Broomsticks waiting for his Godfather when Sirius finally appeared. They gave each other a warm greeting and Harry gave Sirius an update on how things were going at Hogwarts and his letters to the French Veela, something which Sirius took enormous interest in.
Sirius also talked to Harry about his meetings with the mind healer. The expert suggested for Sirius to take a break from everything and finally take some time for himself, away from wizarding Britain. Therefore, Sirius would spend a fraction of his compensation on a four-week muggle cruise through the Mediterranean sea.
Harry was more than happy for Sirius. The man deserved some peace and quiet but promised to still send Harry a couple of letters. After the cruise, he would finally get his affairs in order and move back into his family's ancestral home in London, which needed a deep cleaning, according to him.
The ship would be leaving Venice on the third of November and Sirius still had one thing he wanted to do with Harry:
"Harry, would you like to come to Godric's Hollow with me? I will be visiting your parents on Halloween in two weeks. I was also planning on checking the house, to see if there is still anything worth saving. You could come with me to visit them yourself if you'd like?"
Harry didn't know what to say. Instead, he just gave Sirius a hug and quietly nodded:
"Sure, but we'll have to go around noon or in the early afternoon. I have plans for the evening and night."
"What? You're going to ditch your godfather for a hot date?" Sirius barked his laughter.
Harry thought about his meeting with Salazar and the ritual he would be performing that Halloween. He grinned: "I guess you could call it a date and yes my body will be heavily involved."
Sirius looked in awe. "Wait, Harry, don't you think you're moving a bit quickly? I mean, I was in my fourth year, when I popped my first cherry... I haven't even given you the birds and the bees talk yet."
"Come on Sirius, can we please talk about something else?" Harry groaned.
"Is it that read head, the Bones? It would only be fair if you hook up with a Bones in your generation after your old godfather failed in his time." Sirius barked.
Harry just chuckled and shook his head at the man's antics. Sirius would probably never change.
October 25th, 1993
Beauxbaton Academy
The most beautiful, snow-white owl Fleur had ever seen landed gracefully in front of her. She was carrying an envelope with unfamiliar handwriting. When the owl held out its foot for Fleur to take the letter, she was finally able to see who had written to her.
Harry James Potter
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
He had written back to her. Fleur had not expected this. For some reason, Harry Potter had written back to her. What could he possibly want? They had exchanged their regret for what happened. Shouldn't they just move on?
Her curiosity got the better of her. She untied the letter and held a little piece of French pastry up, for the owl to try. The owl looked suspiciously at the offered piece of food, before gently grabbing it with its beak and letting out a soft hoot.
Fleur chuckled when the owl affectionately nipped her finger before taking off. Harry Potter was an enigma and so was his owl. The two definitely fit together well.
Fleur checked her surroundings, quickly opened the letter, and began reading. It was a very nice letter. He sounded so much more mature than the child she had met during the tournament. This time, he even personally apologized for the short suffering he had caused her.
She frowned when learning she had caused him a permanent scar. Indeed, the damage to the skin from her fire would most likely never heal. However, she chuckled when reading that he would use it as a reminder.
Suddenly she stopped. What was she doing? Was she really chuckling at a letter from Harry Potter? The boy who had antagonized and disrespected her publicly? But he did sound sincere in his letter…
He assumed that she was sitting her OWLs this school year already. Should she write back to him and correct him? Was it really wise to become pen pals with someone she might soon face on the dueling platform again?
Fleur would take some time and think about it…
October 31st, 1993
Today would be the day Harry visited his parents' grave for the first time. Afterward, he would also complete another ritual. It has been quite some time since Harry had performed one, but he was eager to get back on track. Even if it meant suffering through the pain.
Sirius picked him up from Hogwarts, as Harry would be excused for the rest of his classes and apparated him to the far edge of Godric's Hollow. This is where he had lived for the first year of his life...
The tiny village lay peacefully in the center of a small valley. An old church stood in the middle, Harry could recognize the cemetery next to it.
Sirius looked equally as shaken, as Harry:
"Let's go pup, we've got this."
Together they descended into the small valley. They passed a couple of houses, but none of them seemed familiar.
"Harry, look!" Sirius was pointing at the war memorial.
As they had passed it, it had transformed. Instead of an obelisk covered in names, there was a statue of three people: a man with untidy hair and glasses, a woman with long hair and a kind, pretty face, and a baby boy sitting in his mother's arms.
Harry drew closer, gazing up into his parents' faces. He had never imagined that there would be a statue. It was strange to see himself represented in stone, a happy baby without a scar marking his forehead. "I will make you proud." He whispered before returning to Sirius' side and continuing his path to the church.
There was a kissing gate at the entrance to the graveyard. Sirius pushed it open as quietly as possible and they edged through it. Behind the church, row upon row of old tombstones protruded. Harry moved toward the nearest grave.
"Look at this, it's an Abbott, could be some long-lost relation of Hannah Abbot. She's a classmate of mine!"
Sirius shot him a weak smile as they waded deeper and deeper into the graveyard, stopping to peer at the words on old headstones.
"Sirius, look at this."
"Is it –?"
"No, but look!" Harry pointed to the dark stone. Sirius stooped down and the words Kendra Dumbledore and, a short way down her dates of birth and death, and her daughter Ariana.
There was also a quotation:
Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.
Harry did not fully comprehend the quote. He remembered Dumbledore saying that he also saw his family when looking into the Mirror of Erised. Was this the reason? Because they died so young?
Why did Dumbledore never take him here during the first 13 years of his life? They could have visited the place together; for a moment Harry imagined coming here with Dumbledore.
But it seemed that to Dumbledore, the fact that their families lay side by side in the same graveyard had been an unimportant coincidence, irrelevant, perhaps, to whatever job he still wanted Harry to do.
Next, Harry stumbled upon a grave that was perhaps the oldest in the entire cemetery. At first, he thought the name said Potter, but upon inspecting the stones closer, he caught his breath.
He could only make out the first name. However, upon seeing the name 'Ignotus' he quickly pulled out his wand and cast a Scourgify on the gravestone. Chances were that he was family, so technically he was not breaking any laws, right?
Indeed... Ignotus Peverell was born in 1214 and died in 1292. He had lived a long life, considering the time he was born in.
"And at the end of it, he greeted Death like an old friend" Harry whispers to himself and chuckles. Then something else caught his attention.
The emblem… The emblem he had seen on his reflection's chest and ring, was carved into the stone. A triangle with a straight vertical line, surrounded by a circle. So the emblem was connected to the Hallows, somehow. Was it their official sign or something? How many people would recognize it?
Sirius came over towards him:
"Don't you think this guy is a little old for you to know him?" he chuckled.
"What do you know about my father's cloak, Sirius?"
"Only that it is pretty old, and he got it from his father, why?"
"Because the average invisibility cloak is useful for maybe five years…"
Sirius frowned and looked confused: "But yours is still perfect, what does that mean?"
"This is something you can never share with everyone, especially not Dumbledore, okay?"
At Sirius nod, Harry continued: "What do you know about the Tale of the Three Brothers?"
Sirius grinned, "it's a story I read to you as a kid. James had a really old copy…" He paused. "No… You-you're joking right?"
"A Wand, a Stone, and a Cloak, Sirius. Who had my father's Cloak when he died?"
Sirius frowned, his expression stony: "Dumbledore. Do you think he knows?"
"I am certain he knows, maybe he even possesses another. But they are mine. I am the last descendant of Ignotus Peverell, the third brother." Harry nodded to the gravestone.
That was all he wanted to share with Sirius so far. He continued his way deeper into the graveyard, looking for his parents.
Every now and then he recognized a surname that, like Abbott, he had met at Hogwarts. Sometimes there were several generations of the same Wizarding family represented in the graveyard, Harry could tell from the dates that they had either died out, or the current members had moved away from Godric's Hollow.
Deeper and deeper amongst the graves he went, and every time he reached a new headstone he felt a little lurch of apprehension and anticipation. Finally, Sirius' voice could be heard, sharp and clear from a few yards away.
"Harry, they're here, right here."
The headstone was only two rows behind what had been Dumbledore's Mother and Sister. It was made of white marble, which made it easy to read. Harry did not need to kneel or even approach very close to it to make out the words engraved upon it.
JAMES POTTER
BORN 27 MARCH 1960 DIED 31 OCTOBER 1981
LILY POTTER
BORN 30 JANUARY 1960 DIED 31 OCTOBER 1981
The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.
Harry read the words slowly, as though he would have only one chance to take in their meaning, and he read the last of them aloud. To destroy death… in what way did they mean that?
There were several ways to destroy death. Voldemort had tried his own and it worked pretty well, all things considered. His Horcruxes had allowed him to survive the killing curse.
There was another way, of course. Harry had held the Philosopher's Stone in his hand at the end of his first year. Back then he was not interested in it and he wasn't now either.
And then there were the Deathly Hallows of course. Whoever combines them, is supposed to be the Master of Death. Isn't that the same as 'destroying the last enemy'? However, for some reason, he didn't think either of those options were meant by the saying.
"What do you think they mean by it?" Harry asked Sirius.
"It doesn't mean defeating death in the way the Death Eaters mean it, Harry," said Sirius, his voice gentle. "It means, you know, living beyond death. Life after death."
But they were not living, thought Harry. They were gone. The empty words could not disguise the fact that his parents' remains lay beneath the stone, indifferent, unknowing.
Harry would never let anything like this happen to the people, he would call a family one day. He would protect anyone he loves and he himself shall live a long happy life, too.
His mother and father were a brilliant witch and wizard, but they had been naive, trusting a friend without ensuring that he could not betray them.
Would it have been so difficult to sneak a couple of drops of Veritaserum in a cup, to verify that Pettigrew was indeed loyal to the right cause?
Would it have been so troubling to delve into his mind with his permission, to scan for any hints of betrayal?
Blind trust and naivety had led to the death of his parents, but Harry would be smarter than that. He would also make sure that in case shit truly goes down, he could fight his own battles.
Voldemort had mocked him, saying that it had been easy to kill his father. It was true, his father did not stand a chance against Voldemort in a straight duel. But Harry would. Maybe not right now. But when the time came he would be ready.
"Let's go back to Hogwarts, Sirius. Visiting their grave has been enough for one day. We can always come back to the house later on."
Sirius nodded his understating. For him, it was the first time he had seen the grave as well. Together they left the graveyard, as Harry cast one last look at the tombstones of his parents and Ignotus Peverell.
Chapter 25: Dancing with a Flower
Chapter 25
November 2nd, 1993
Harry was sitting in his DADA class, listening to Professor Lupin explain the dangers of Grindylows. Admittedly, the man was a good teacher, but Harry wished they would cover something else besides dark magical creatures in class.
He was more likely to encounter a dark wizard than a dark creature. Defending against dark spells was therefore far more useful to him.
Although right now, he was glad that the lesson was a theoretical one. His entire body was still aching from the effects of the ritual he performed last night. The ritual had been extremely painful and taxing.
It also put quite a dent in his Gringotts account. For the Body-Ritual that he performed, he needed all sorts of magical ingredients from powerful creatures and those were expensive...
In total, he spent over 1000 galleons on dragon heartstrings and fangs, the raw muscle tissue of a griffin, the tung of a Nundu, and a couple of other weird ingredients he had never heard of. And of course quite a lot of his own blood to round things off.
Harry had also sacrificed the liver of the dead basilisk that was still laying in the main Chamber. Luckily, the magical beast does not rot, so Harry had all the time in the world to cut off something whenever he needed to.
The ritual, if performed correctly, would improve his human body, including his physical condition, bone density, remove any hidden disabilities, and even improve his blood flow.
Salazar had explained that the ritual would not instantly change him into a seven-foot giant that could hardly move due to his muscle mass. However, it would make it easier for Harry to put on and retain muscle mass, once he focuses his workouts on muscle hypertrophy instead of his current cardio routine. The ritual might also add an inch or two to his potential physical height, once he is fully grown.
The most significant benefit, however, would be his increased stamina and strength repertoire. Harry will not tire as quickly while dueling and could probably dodge spells for a lot longer now, before feeling any taxing effects on his body. He couldn't wait to test it during the next couple of practice duels with Flitwick.
It seems as if the class was finally over and Harry was about to exit the classroom when he heard Lupin call him back:
"Mr. Potter, a word please."
Great, the man probably noticed that he hadn't paid attention during his lecture and would assign extra homework.
"Yes, Professor?"
"Harry, I was wondering if you would like to learn the Patronus charm from me? I don't believe you'd be on good terms with the Dementors after the events a month ago and I was hoping in exchange you might tell me a bit about the spell you had used yourself. I was there that night and I have never seen something like that before…" Lupin says.
"I'm sorry, Professor, but I will not share Potter family magic with anyone outside the family," Harry replied firmly.
"Harry, James had never told us about any family magic and certainly never performed spells like that. You can tell me the truth." Lupin tried again.
"How would you know what kind of magic my father ever performed? Oh wait, yes, you were one of his best friends, right? A best friend that let me rot with filthy muggles and never even visited his other best friend in prison?" Harry replied angrily.
"You don't understand Harry. James and Lily had just died, two of my best friends. My other two best friends dueled and one killed the other, revealing that had also been a traitor. The life I knew was over.
I fell into a deep depression and I couldn't find work anywhere due to my condition. I left Britain and searched my luck on the continent. There was just nothing left for me here."
"I was left in Britain, Lupin, and you left me. They might have prohibited you from adopting me, but you could have visited me. You could have seen my suffering and abuse and you could have stopped it. Instead, you chose to be a coward.
Sirius and I have nothing left to tell you. Please refrain from speaking to me, unless it is related to the class or course work. Thank you, Professor."
Harry left the man standing. Lupin might be a decent teacher, but he had made his choices in life and Harry would make his own.
November 5th, 1993
Harry received two letters during Breakfast today. The first one was from Sirius, telling him that he was finally back in Britain and moved into his ancestral home. He invited Harry to spend the yule holidays with him. For some reason, Sirius also insisted for Harry to accompany him to a new-years-eve ball in Berlin on December 31st.
It was an event hosted by the ICW and Sirius' first public outing as Lord Black. It seemed the man wasn't joking when explained that he wishes to enter the political playing field and start making useful connections.
Harry decided to just go with him and try his best to enjoy the night. Daphne Greengrass and her family had been invited as well. Maybe he could spend some time with her.
At least the girl was funny. However, upon telling Daphne that he would be present at the ball, the girl insisted that they would dance together.
Harry had to admit to her that he never learned how to dance, so the blonde Slytherin took it upon herself to teach Harry in the small amount of time that was left. By the end of their sessions, Harry would at least not embarrass himself.
The second letter that had arrived that day was from Fleur Delacour. Apparently the Veela had decided to write to him again. Harry had no idea what she could want but pocketed the envelope to read it in the Chamber again.
Salazar just grinned when he saw Harry entering his quarters, holding the letter.
Harry Potter
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Dear Monsieur Potter,
Thank you for your reply. I am glad we see eye to eye on the issue. Luckily, you also learned your lesson on provoking a French witch, especially a proud Veela, I should say. Let us, therefore, put the unpleasant events in the past and move forwards.
You are mistaken about me taking my exams this year already. Unlike at Hogwarts, here at Beauxbaton Academy, we take our OWLs after six years of magical education. Therefore, I have over another year to prepare myself. I personally think it is much better this way.
May I ask why you choose to compete in the Under-18 Championship in Moscow next summer, instead of the Under-16? To my understanding, you will face competitors that will be up to three years older than you. Please do not understand this as an attempt to discredit your skill. I simply found myself curious.
I hope you are well and enjoy spending time with your godfather.
Kind regards
Fleur Isabelle Delacour
Beauxbaton Academy
Well, that was interesting. Apparently, the French students sat their owls after six years. But wouldn't that mean that they only have one more year afterward for their NEWTs?
Harry read the letter once more. His reasons for competing in the Under-18 should be quite obvious, shouldn't they? None of the competitors in his age class were an actual threat to him. Besides, there was more prestige and glory to fight for, when competing in the high classes.
He felt an urge to write back to Delacour right now but contained it. He did not want to seem desperate for her attention, even though he quite liked her letters and would be looking forward to the next. Anyways, he had other things to occupy his time with.
December 22nd, 1993.
Harry, Terry, Susan, Hannah, Tracey, and Daphne were all sitting together in a compartment. The Hogwarts Express was taking them back to London. The first semester had started with lots of action for Harry but quickly calmed down afterward. For the last three months, he had simply continued his routine.
The students were interrupted by Draco Malfoy bursting into their compartment:
"There you are, Potter. I just received..." He stopped when he saw Daphne sitting next to Harry, her arm almost touching his. "What are you doing in this compartment, Greengrass? Why do you lower yourself to the company of half-bloods and blood traitors?" He spat.
Harry was about to flick his wand into his palm, but Daphne was quicker. With incredible speed, she shot a freezing charm at Malfoys groin, who winced in pain and dropped to his knees.
"You should leave, Malfoy, unless you would like to be the last of your name, as no further generations of Malfoys will be born." Daphne threatened the boy that was still wincing in pain.
"Besides, Harry is already a greater wizard than you or your father could ever hope to be." She says, gesturing to Malfoy's bodyguards to pick him up and take him away.
"So that's why they call her the Icequeen." Terry chuckled, while Daphne stared daggers at him.
The group arrived at King's Cross where Harry bid the others goodbye and made his way over to Sirius, who was waiting a couple of meters away. The man looked so much better than only a few months ago.
His hair was neatly trimmed at shoulders length and he had groomed his short beard. His skin regained some color and he was even sporting a slight tan on his face. Sirius had also filled out considerably and Harry could tell that he must have been an athletic fit man during his days as an Auror cadet.
Together they apparated to Grimmauld square and Harry took his first look at what might be his new home. From the outside, the townhouse looked just like the houses to its left and right. They walked up to the door but a couple of meters away from it, Harry could feel himself approaching very strong wards.
"Sirius, have you keyed me into the wards already? I can feel them from here already and they still seem somewhat hostile…"
"Don't worry Harry. You probably carry enough Black blood to be considered a member of the family already. I still made sure to key you in. You are simply experiencing what everyone else does when stepping over the threshold for the first time."
Harry just nodded and approached the door. He felt the ward line, as he crossed it, but experienced ho harm by it. Sirius tapped the door with his wand three times and it swung open.
Harry could make out a dark, dimly lit corridor with old gas lamps at frequent intervals at either side of the walls. Just as they closed the door behind them, an old elf appeared with a loud POP.
"Blood traitor Master has returned and he has brought a guest." The elf bowed deep, but the resentment in his eyes was evident.
"Yes, Kreacher, this is Harry Potter. He is my godson and heir and you will treat him with the utmost respect." Sirius introduced him.
Kreacher growled: "Kreacher recognizes him. He can see the scar. It is Harry Potter, grandson of Miss Dorea. But he is only a half-blood, still, his magic is strong, Kreacher wonders if the rumors are true about him." The elf kept talking to himself.
Harry and Sirius had followed him to the kitchen when Harry couldn't contain his laughter at the elf's behavior anymore. At the sound of his voice, a very old portrait suddenly came to life and an ugly woman started insulting them with what purebloods would consider the rudest vocabulary:
"You nasty Blood Traitor, how dare you bring a half-blood into this house! You abomination of my flesh, waste of the purest blood. I have cast you out from the family tree, how dare you show your face here again."
"Well, Harry, this is my lovely mother. I am sure you can imagine why I ran off to your dad's place after I turned 16. I couldn't stand it here anymore."
Harry nodded. Sirius had told him the story before. But old Walburga Black was getting quite annoying, he had to do something. A brilliant idea came to his mind:
"Shut your trap you old hag. You should see it as an honor that I even step foot into the pile of dirt you call a home. I am the last descendant of the two most powerful bloodlines in the entire magical world.
You dishonor House Black by not showing the proper greeting to a guest."
"Shame on you!" He hissed the last part in parseltongue and saw how Walpurga's eyes widened in horror.
"I am the heir of Salazar Slytherin, who welcomed generations of Blacks into his house at Hogwarts. You will show me the proper respect!" Harry continued.
Walburga's portrait was still too shocked to respond. Beside him, Sirius started grinning at the way his godson had put his bigoted mother in her place.
Walburga finally regained her senses:
"It is, of course, an honor to welcome you into my ancestral home, Heir Slytherin. You mentioned another most famous bloodline that you are a descendent of?"
Harry gave her a cold smile before responding. "See that this house is brought into a state worthy of my presence and I shall answer your question."
The portrait just nodded, before turning to the elf:
"Kreacher, the heir of Slytherin himself, will experience the hospitality of House Black for the next two weeks! Scrub the floors, dust the walls, clean the kitchen and polish the best cutlery we have to offer.
I want our esteemed guest to see all that House Black has to offer. Also, prepare the master bedroom and clean the attached bathroom until it sparkles like a star!"
The elf nodded, gave a deep bow towards Walpurga and Harry, and even attempted a small bow towards Sirius before disappearing with pop and getting to work.
December 26th, 1993
Christmas with Sirius had been awesome. They got a small Christmas tree and decorated it together. Sirius had bought him a brand new set of robes of the highest quality, which Harry could wear for the ball. He got a couple of smaller presents from his friends at Hogwarts as well.
It felt weird calling them friends. But Harry had been spending a lot of time with them, usually doing homework and working together in classes, during the last term. He had to admit that he sometimes really liked their company.
Harry's present for Sirius had been a brand new dragonhide wand holster and a book on prank spells, even though Harry knew he would soon regret it.
Sirius still had to get many of his affairs in order. Some of the pureblood families felt less inclined to welcome him into the ranks of the Lords in the Wizengamot. Harry would usually busy himself reading in the Black library or exploring the house, while his godfather was gone. Just as he did now.
Harry, once again found himself wandering around the halls in the Black ancestral mansion. He had never lived in a magical home, but he was sure the one he was currently in was not the standard for it.
He could feel the magic and wards deeply embedded into every wall, every floor, even every piece of furniture. Kreacher had done a formidable job at cleaning the place, but Harry could feel the residual magic everywhere.
It was a very different feeling to what he was used to from Hogwarts. Whereas the magic around the Castle felt like a warm flame and had something inspiring to it, the magic at this place felt cold and dark.
There was something else also, something strangely familiar and Harry wanted to find out what it was. Somehow, somewhere in the house, he could feel magic that he only felt once before. It felt stronger than anything House Black could possibly contain within its walls. It was calling out to Harry as if it wanted to be found.
That was why, once again, Harry found himself walking through the dark halls, following the trail of residual magic that lingered all around him. He came to a stop close to the attic. Harry knew that this was where Kreacher created his personal little sleeping quarters.
The elf had started taking care of himself physically after Walburga had mentioned that he looked more like a deranged troll than a servant of House Black. Ever since then, Kreacher had cleaned himself and now looked almost as healthy as Dobby.
The foreign magic pulled him towards a wardrobe in the corner of the dark room. Harry opened the wardrobe and found a small box at the bottom, next to the assemblage of dirty patches, Kreacher still slept in.
There was something in the boy, something sentient. He picked it up, shuffled through a couple of old black family heirlooms until he saw it.
The Locket. Salazar Slytherin's golden Locket, with the beautifully engraved S, had been placed at the bottom of the box. Voldemort had been looking for it. and had been successful. Harry could feel the magic in it, it felt just like the Dairy.
A strong compulsion charm had been placed on the Dairy, convincing whoever held it to open it and write in it. Something similar had been placed on the Locket.
Harry had to fight the urge to put it around his neck. Instead, he picked it up and slowly made his way downstairs in the kitchen, where Kreacher was preparing breakfast.
The elf acknowledged his entrance with a deep bow, but his eyes widened as he saw the Locket in Harry's hand.
"Where did you find the Locket, Kreacher? Answer me, for the blood of the Black's flows in my veins and I am the heir of the current Lord Black!" Harry ordered the elf.
The elf broke down and began his story of how young Regulus had joined the Death Eaters when one day the Dark Lord asked for an elf. Regulus offered Kreacher and the Dark Lord took him to the cave at the sea.
He ordered poor Kreacher to drink some strange potion and placed the Locket at the bottom of the basin. Harry frowned when he heard about the dozens of Inferi that pulled Kreacher towards the bottom of the black lake.
"How did you escape, Kreacher?"
"Master Regulus had ordered Kreacher to come back."The elf simply said.
"So you managed to apparate out of the cave? Voldemort did not even bother putting up anti-apparition wards for house elves, even after inviting you to the cave." Harry laughed.
Kreacher continued his story and told Harry how he briefed Master Regulus on everything that had happened to him. He finished by telling Harry about the copy they placed in the basin and the last orders Kreacher had received before Regulus was killed by the Inferi.
"Kreacher has failed. Kreacher has not completed the last order. Kreacher is a disgrace." The elf sobbed.
"You are not a disgrace, Kreacher," Harry told the crying elf: "Magic, most evil is contained by this locket. But I can destroy it. I can complete the last wish of Regulus."
"Young Master can?" The elf looked up with hopeful eyes.
"Yes, Kreacher. But it will have to wait until I am back at Hogwarts."
"Kreacher understands." The elf nodded. "Kreacher will ensure that the young Master enjoys his stay until then." The elf bowed deeper than ever before and continued making breakfast.
Harry decided not to tell Sirius yet. He did not like keeping things from him, however, he had no idea how strong the man's Occlumency shields were as of now and he could not risk someone like Dumbledore or Snape finding out that he was hunting Horcruxes right now.
December 31st, 1993
Harry and Sirius stood ready at the international Portkey terminal at the Ministry of Magic. They would soon catch their Portkey to Berlin, to attend the New Years' ball hosted by the ICW. Harry was admittedly slightly nervous.
He had never been to an event like this and the thought of dancing in front of hundreds of people did not sit well with him yet. At least he was looking quite dashing if he might so himself. The new robes Sirius had bought him fit him well.
The long dark green Acromantula silk highlighted his eyes. Combined with polished dragonhide boots and the crests of the Potter and Black family proudly displayed on his chest, Harry looked just like a very handsome young pureblood, he chuckled. He even managed to tame his hair somewhat, even though Sirius had told him it was a lost cause with any Potter male.
At 6:00 pm they grabbed their Portkey and disappeared in a whirlwind of colors, reappearing a couple of seconds later in a beautifully decorated antechamber.
The walls were decorated with old suits of armor, but unlike the ones in Hogwarts, they were sparklingly polished. Old expensive-looking muggle paintings hung from either side. The ceiling was beautifully decorated with carvings of stone and marble.
Other guests arrived next to them, just as a small elf greeted them and invited them to join the rest of the party in the main halls. The main hall was similarly decorated as the antechamber.
The crest of the International Confederation of Wizards was displayed on huge banners on all four walls. Large candles were gracefully floating in the air a couple of feet above them.
All the other guests were wearing equally expensive-looking robes and mixtures between muggle suits and formal wizarding robes. Harry could make out many different languages being spoken around him.
He understood English, obviously, and thanks to his classes with Perenelle Flamel, he could also make out some guests conversing in French and German around him.
"So what's the program like for tonight?" Harry asked Sirius.
"Well, usually there will be dinner and a couple of speeches afterward. Then the host, in this case, the German ICW representatives, will open the ball. After the first dance, the guests are allowed to join in on the dance floor.
The dancing will continue in the background while usually small groups of people start forming. That is when I will be making connections for entering the Wizengamot. Maybe you find some young people to spend some time with, in the meantime.
"Didn't you say that Greengrass girl would be here? I can't wait to see her mother again. She was so feisty." Sirius grinned.
"Sirius, you will behave yourself and not flirt with the mother of one of my friends! She has been happily married for over 14 years!" Harry sighed.
"Don't worry pup, there are plenty of other females here for me to connect with. But first, let's ask an elf about our table and seats. Usually, they place you according to your standing in society. As the current Lord Black, we should be sitting somewhere at the tables closer to the front." He smirked at Harry.
Sirius went over to an elf and asked for directions. The elf guided them to their seats, just as the majority of guests also settled down. The round tables were scattered across the hall with a larger table sitting slightly higher at the far end. That must be where the host and most important guest would be sitting.
Each round table could probably host about ten guests and there were about 50 of them in the entire hall.
Sirius and Harry took their seats and Harry scanned the hall for any familiar faces. To his great displeasure, he could see Minister Fudge, his toad, and the Malfoy family sitting a couple of tables ahead of him. Malfoy Senior and Fudge were in deep conversation.
Draco looked rather bored, watching the guests around him disinterestedly. His eyes found Harry and he shot him an ugly sneer before tapping his mother's side and gesturing in their direction.
Narcissa Malfoy looked over to them and froze when she spotted Sirius, quickly turning back to her husband and taking part in the conversation. Harry could hear Sirius' sight next to him.
It seemed like Dinner was about to begin when suddenly a flash of platinum hair caught Harry's gaze. No, Harry thought, could she really be here?
Fleur Delacour was gracefully floating towards the head table. She looked simply breathtaking. Her long, dark red dress stopped just above her heels and hugged her figure tightly. She wore her hair in a complicated but very elegant-looking knot.
The small amount of jewelry she was wearing was almost unnecessary. It looked plain and lifeless next to the radiant beauty that was Fleur Delacour.
Unlike for her duels, she had chosen to wear minimal makeup. Her lipstick was the same shade of red as her dress. Harry had to stop himself from staring at her like every other male that looked in her direction, but he found it a lot more difficult than last time.
The people all around her went silent as Delacour walked past them. Only now did Harry notice that she was not alone, but clung to the arm of an admittedly attractive young man.
Harry did not know why it bothered him so much, but the man, just like any other male around Delacour, could not keep his eyes off her and almost stumbled a couple of times, since his glassy stare was fixed on his date.
At least Delacour seemed equally as annoyed at him as she had been with all the other boys that rudely stared at her during the Championship. Right behind her, Harry spotted the Delacour parents with another couple.
Fleur's mother attracted almost as many stares as her daughter. Harry did not recognize the couple next to them, but they must be equally as important. He remembered that Sebastian Delacour was the Head of the French DMLE.
"Isn't that your French Veela over there, Harry? I must say, you do have very good taste, pup" Sirius grinned.
"Are you affected by her allure?" Harry curiously asked his godfather.
"I don't think so, Harry. Sure, she is very pretty, she and her mother are probably the most beautiful females at this entire Ball, but after enduring the Dementors for twelve years something like her allure isn't strong enough to have me staring like all those fools around us."
"Who is that other couple? They seem very important."
"Those are the Saint-Claires. He is the French Minister for Magic. Their son, Patrice Saint-Claire, is escorting the Veela." Sirius explained.
Fleur, her family, and her date took their seats at the head table. Unlike the British Minister for Magic, they seemed to be special guests for tonight.
Harry forced himself to stop looking up at Fleur and instead searched for Daphne and her family. He found her a couple of tables to his left, but apparently, she had not seen him yet.
Finally, dinner started, and tucked in, making sure his table manners, taught by Walpurga Black herself, were on point for the night. Once most people had finished, one of the German ICW representatives, who had a remarkable resemblance to Paul Leitner, one of Harry's former opponents, stood up and held the first speech of the night.
The following speeches were equally boring, all praising the time of peace and that the magical world was finally healing from the war with Grindelwald. They had no idea that a certain Dark Lord was doing his best to be resurrected just at this point, Harry thought.
Then a band started playing slow music that was amplified in a way that it could be heard in the entire hall at the same volume. The German representatives opened the ball with a first dance and were soon joined by other guests from the head table.
After about three songs, guests from the rest of the hall started joining them on the dance floor.
"Go find someone to dance with. Ask that Greengrass girl!" Sirius grinned at Harry and took off to start networking with some other guests, leaving Harry to himself.
Harry groaned and walked over to Daphne's table. The girl sat with her back to him, watching the couples dancing in front of her.
"May I have this dance, Ms. Greengrass?" Harry asked the girl with a lopsided grin.
"Harry!" Daphne spun around. It looked like she was about to give him a hug, but caught herself at the last moment when her father shot her a glare.
"Won't you introduce your friend, Daphne?" The man asked his daughter.
"Of course, father. This is Harry Potter, a fellow classmate from house Ravenclaw. He is here with his godfather, Lord Sirius Black. Mr. Potter, this is my father, Lord Edward Greengrass and my mother, Lady Victoria Greengrass." Daphne introduced them.
"It is a pleasure to meet you both." Harry greeted the couple and shook Lord Greengrass' hand. Then he flashed a smile at Lady Greengrass and briefly brushed her knuckles with his lips. "It is clear where Daphne gets her beauty from, Lady Greengrass."
The women that looked so much like Daphne let out a peal of soft laughter:
"Are you sure it has only been a couple of weeks that you have spent in the company of your godfather, Mr. Potter? It almost seemed like you've been raised by him."
"He speaks very fondly of you, my Lady." Harry grinned.
"Oh I am sure, he does. Now go and take Daphne to dance, but make sure to be a gentleman to my little girl." The woman replied kindly, while Daphne frowned at her mother. Harry just chuckled and offered his arm to the girl.
He guided her to the dancefloor and the two started dancing a slow waltz. They had become accustomed to each other over the hours of practice and had great synergies. One song after another they spend dancing, talking about school, friends, their holidays, and other random stuff.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed that at one point, Fleur Delacour had started dancing with her partner. Apparently, the boy still couldn't believe his luck at dancing with Fleur, because he kept staring at her, the lust clearly visible in his eyes.
Fleur seemed very angry with him, especially after he repeatedly stepped on her feet and she grimaced in pain. The song was finally over and it seemed she was relieved that she could finally return to her table when another man swapped in and asked her for a dance.
She could not ignore tradition, so she granted each of them one dance, as was expected by her. Harry noticed how she got more and more furious at each partner that just would stop drooling right in front of her.
She looked around herself, seemingly looking for a way to escape when her eyes caught his.
Emerald green caught bright blue and the world stood still for Harry. He knew she recognized him. Harry did not know what to do and decided to give a short nod and return his attention to his partner. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Delacour was still staring at him.
The evening continued. Harry danced with a couple of other girls from Germany and France that Daphne introduced him to. Fleur Delcour had disappeared half an hour ago. Harry felt bad for her. Being the center of attention for so long must be very annoying.
Around 11:00 pm he asked Daphne from a small break and made his way to the restrooms outside the hall. Just as he opened one of the doors to leave the main hall he ran into a person that seemingly appeared out of nowhere.
Both of them held onto each other to stop themselves from stumbling and falling to the ground and Harry's nose filled with vanilla and cinnamon.
Then he looked up into the face of whoever he ran into.
Harry groaned, who else could it have been. Fleur Delacour was looking down at him. He noticed that she was still considerably taller than him. Maybe due to the heels, Harry frowned.
Both of them didn't know what to say, simply staring into each other's eyes. It was a very uncomfortable situation, so Harry tried to break the silence:
"I apologize for running into you, Mademoiselle Delacour, I did not see you." He addressed her in french.
"There is no harm done, Monsieur Potter" Delacour replied simply, a cool expression on her face.
Harry didn't say anything for a couple of seconds. Then, he had no idea what made him say it:
"Could I make it up to you with a dance?"
What the hell was he doing? Why would he want to dance with someone that physically scarred him for life after their lethal duel ended with his disqualification?...
Delacour visibly frowned: "Why should I grant you a dance, Monsieur Potter?"
Harry thought quickly, why indeed?
"Because aside from your father, I might be the only male in the hall, who won't step on your feet while dancing." He grinned at her
Fleur looked at him, seemingly amused and started laughing. It was the most melodic laughter he had ever heard, like a little song that suddenly brightened his mood:
"Very well, Monsieur Potter. You may have one dance." The french beauty replied.
Harry held out his arm and guided her back to the dance floor. The band was playing another slow waltz. Harry took Delacour's left hand and placed his right at her slim waist, leading her into the first couple of steps.
Delacour seemed slightly surprised at his level of confidence. She must not be used to her partners actually leading a dance with her. No wonder why though, most of them were probably too distracted to focus on their own feet.
They held eye contact during the entire time. When the song stopped and another began, the two simply continued dancing. Seemingly lost in their own world. Then Delacour spoke up:
"You have not replied to my latest letter, Monsieur Potter. Have you been too busy saving the wizarding world again?" The corner of her lip was barely tucked upwards.
Harry knew she was trying to tease him a bit: "No not quite, I was actually busy with school work and taking your advice to spend some more time with my godfather."
"Monsieur Black looks a lot better than he did a few months ago, in the pictures I saw," Fleur mentioned. Apparently, she was watching his godfather over Harry's shoulder.
"He went on a small muggle cruise and took some time off from the wizarding world. How is life at Beauxbaton? I always wondered what the other magical schools might be like. I even once threatened my Headmaster to change schools if I would not get my way." Harry chucked.
Fleur let out her melodic laughter again. "Harry Potter blackmailing the great Albus Dumbeldore. You Englishmen are certainly something else.
Life at Beauxbaton is just like always. I mostly concentrate on school and my personal studies. I don't really have any friends there."
Another song ended, but the two continued their dance uninterrupted.
"It must be awful getting stared at like that all the time. I understand it might be difficult to hold a conversation with the boys. Most of them simply drool all over you… but what about some female friends?" Harry asked.
Delacour frowned: "The female students at Beauxbaton resent me. They believe I am out to steal their boyfriends, just because their men are too weak-minded to keep their hands to themselves."
"Idiots", Harry chuckled and Delacour joined him. "But well, they are hormonal teenagers, what can you expect?"
Fleur eyed him with a curious look: "You should be a hormonal teenager too, Monsieur Potter. How come you remain in control in my present? Are you perhaps not interested in the opposite sex?"
Harry choked:
"What? No! I mean yes, I am interested in you. I mean, not you, of course, just females in general. What I mean is that I have practiced the mind arts ever since I was ten and I have very strong Occlumency shields, if I may say so myself. Therefore, your allure does not affect me."
Harry finally managed to form a coherent sentence, still blushing furiously.
Delacour laughed and again it was like music in his ears while her smell of cinnamon and vanilla filled his nose:
"Well, I am glad you do, Mr. Potter. This has been the most pleasant dance in recent years, apart from dancing with my Papa of course, but it's not the same if you unders-"
Talking about her 'Papa', all of a sudden Harry was yanked from Delacour's side and stumbled over the dance floor, barely finding his balance before falling. Instantly his wand was out in his palm, directed at the man that now stood protectively in front of Fleur.
Sebastien Delacour was furious, his wand pointed at Harry:
"Stay away from my daughter, or you will suffer the consequences, Englishman!" He spits.
Harry grinned at the man. "Are you challenging me? The great Sebastian Delacour, head of the French DMLE, challenging a 13-year-old boy?" Harry laughed.
By now most of the guests around them had stopped dancing and we're watching the spectacle in the middle.
Delacour was furious, he stepped forwards: "How dare you.."
That is enough, Papa! I accepted Monsieur Potter's offer to dance and it was the best I have had tonight! Behave yourself!" Fleur begged her father, clearly vexed at the situation.
Sebastian Delacour gave one last glare at Harry, before turning around and pulling his daughter at her hand off the dance floor and out of the hall.
People all around him started whispering and staring at Harry.
"Ladies and gentleman, please join us on the balcony for the firework show that will soon start!" An announcement went through the hall.
Harry chuckled and whispered to himself:
"Happy new year, Flower."