.

Chapter Three

To Put Away Childish Things

Reflexes honed by sport and heightened by peril compelled Harry to dive. Spinning and drawing his wand, he let one, then two spells loose before hitting the floor. Two Protego Charms appeared just in time to deflect the curses.

The shields disappeared immediately and wands were twisted in the air, preparing to rain down hexes on Harry. He brought his wand back up swiftly, casting his own Protego Shield as he pushed himself off the ground and further to the left.

But no spell was cast, they had anticipated the move; Harry was out of options—

—and Fleur knew it as she cleared the entryway. There wasn't a moment's hesitation before all three wizards in the room were dumbstruck by the goddess standing before them, but only for a moment. Anger and fear surged through her and the draw of the Veela ceased. It was long enough however, to gain the advantage. Fleur disarmed the two wizards—or one of them, at least—snatching the wand out of the air. Then she noticed the other wizard had already gained control over himself.

She turned her attention and her wand toward him. "Curse 'im and die you filthy pig," she threatened.

Both assailants were motionless and slack-jawed, but they weren't looking at Fleur.

"Harry?" one of them asked.

"SIRIUS!"

Fleur gasped as Harry scrambled off the floor and launched into the air. Sirius caught and held him tightly, crying at the sight of his godson.

"Oh, Merlin's arse, Harry, I thought we lost you forever."

"Harry," the other man sighed his name in relief.

"Professor Lupin!" he shouted. A moment later, Harry was engulfed in the arms of two wizards who were crying openly and without shame.

Fleur lowered her wand and blinked to clear the moisture in her own eyes, then noticed Harry. It was only the second time she'd seen him smile like he was now; a real and unadulterated smile. The last time was in the first task. Fleur had made her way back to the stands to watch the others compete. She watched as Harry faced off with his dragon, fascinated as the look on his face transformed when he mounted his broom. His smile was infectious and Fleur couldn't help but smile with him. The same was true today, and more. Not only did the corners of her lips pulled back, but a warmth spread through her, as if Harry's smile was the most important thing in her world. It's only naturalle that it should be—she convinced herself—at least 'e is with someone who loves 'im now. . .

Or is he? Why does that not feel true?

Always one to trust her instincts, Fleur watched closely, preparing herself against any unseen danger. But after observing them some more, she could plainly see how much these two grown wizards loved Harry. Whatever the problem was, it wasn't with them.

Maybe I'm just a little overprotective right now, she rationalized.

Harry let go of the wizards and stepped back, still smiling and wiping his tears away. "I thought you were dead!" he said to Sirius. "How did you know to come here?"

But before Sirius could answer, a shrill and brittle voice came from the back of the house. "Harry! Harry, you're alive!"

All Fleur saw was a blur of robes and hair, then a witch threw her arms around Harry and held him so tightly he could barely breathe. He returned the hug, crying again.

"Mrs. Weasley," Harry managed between sobs.

The dumpy, middle-aged witch pushed him back to arms length, looking him up and down two or three times. "I can't believe it, it's you. It's really you." She pulled him into an even tighter hug.

Fleur tried to restrain the haughty look she'd perfected over the years, but it was difficult. The other witch was disheveled, her eyes red and puffy and definitely undignified.

After a minute or so, Mrs. Weasley asked Harry, "When was the last time you ate?"

"Mast might, phephfore fe phmourmement," he answered, his words muffled against her.

"Then come sit at the table, I was making breakfast when we heard you enter the wards."

Harry shot a questioning look at her.

"Remus added another layer. they alert us when someone comes near us now."

"Oh," was all Harry said, still held tightly Mrs. Weasley.

"Molly, you better let him go," Sirius said with a smirk, "or you're going to make Harry's um," –he raised an eyebrow– "'friend' jealous."

Harry blushed. Fleur opened her mouth to clear up any confusion, but was cut-off.

"Oh belt up, Sirius." She let go of Harry, then fixated on Fleur, her own smirk finally appearing as her eyes fell on Sirius's wand in Fleur's hand. She turned back to him. "At least Remus has more control over himself. I see you're still losing your wand to all the pretty little girls."

Remus erupted in laughter. Sirius rolled his eyes and shoved him out of the kitchen, then followed him out complaining. "How could you possibly know how or when I lose my wand?"

"How many times did I see you get disarmed by the next-door neighbor witch when you were younger?" she replied, now laughing with Remus.

Fleur, however, remained in the doorway, stung like she was slapped in the face. Leetle girl? 'Ow dare she call me a leetle girl. After facing dragons and dark creatures and Death Eaters and . . .

". . . Bon sang!" she whispered in surprise. Was that why 'Arry was so mad at me when I said 'e was just a little boy? Fleur shut her eyes and shook her head, again thinking about how much she had misjudged him the night their names were chosen by the Goblet.

"Fleur, dear, I meant for you to come in too, you must be hungry," Mrs. Weasley called back to her.

"Merci," Fleur stepped further into the Burrow and noticed the worn carpets; the table, propped up with magic; the stained but clean tea towels, hanging from a drying rack. It was all so. . . pedestrian.

She shook the thought and sat at the table next to Harry as Remus and Sirius repaired the damage from the curses.

"Harry, as your former DADA teacher, I'm impressed. That was some fast thinking and faster dueling."

"Thanks," mumbled Harry. "It wasn't that much though, you should have seen Krum duel.

"Krum?" Sirius echoed, his eyes growing narrow and dark as he leaned against a wall. "Tell me why you had an opportunity to experience a duel with Krum."

"No, not like that," Harry protested. "He saved my life last night." He gestured towards Fleur. "All three of them did, then Fleur almost splinched herself Apparating me back to Hogwarts."

Sirius stared at Fleur, but she could tell he wasn't looking at her like most other wizards. It was almost as if he thought that he owed—"

". . . You a great debt of gratitude," Sirius finished saying, shaking his head and unknowingly completing her thought.

He turned back to Harry. "So, Victor Krum, the world-famous seeker, and Fleur, the beautiful Veela Tri-wizard champion." He pushed himself off the wall, grabbed a pitcher of pumpkin juice from the kitchen and walked to the table. "At least you've improved the company you keep, it's a step-up from a mass-murderer and a lowly half-breed, I think."

"Pardon moi?" Fleur interjected, gaping at Sirius as he pulled a chair out from the table.

"Never mind him," Remus said, chuckling. "Though I do apologize in advance for anything he says or does, or even thinks for that matter." He pushed Sirius away as he spoke, taking the seat for himself and sitting down.

Fleur's attention flicked to Remus, but she didn't take his advice. "What do you mean, 'alf breed?" she asked Sirius, anger and offense clearly evident in her voice.

Remus leaned back in his chair, locked his fingers behind his head, and grinned. "Yes, Padfoot, please explain to the beautiful, young, part Veela what you mean by 'half-breed.'"

Fleur huffed and turned to Harry. "'Ow can you let them speak of 'alf-breeds like this!"

"Let Sirius explain," Harry answered, torn between laughing at his godfather's predicament and allaying Fleur's anger.

"That's probably not a good idea," said Mrs. Weasley, carrying a plate piled with food. She set it on the table. "That's for starters, I'll make more."

Sirius reached for a breakfast roll and a slap echoed across the room.

"Get your hands off the food!" Mrs. Weasley gestured towards Harry and Fleur. "Let those two eat first."

Sirius rubbed the back of his hand, then quickly stole a breakfast roll before she could stop him and flashed her a mischievous smirk.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head and grinned at his antics before turning to Remus. "I suggest you explain Sirius's comment before Ms. Delacour decides to hex him into next week."

"I don't know Molly, it might be fun to watch," he replied.

She snorted and walked back into the kitchen as Remus thought better of her advice. For the next quarter-hour, Fleur listened intently as he explained his relationship to Sirius and Harry's father, and what they did for him once they found out about his condition.

"You 'ave been a werewolf all that time?" she finally asked.

"I have," confirmed Remus.

She glanced at Sirius. "And 'e's been your friend through it all?"

"No," Remus said. "But that's my fault. I thought Sirius betrayed Harry's father and killed Peter, the fourth part of our little group. I believed he was the murderer everyone said he was. Ironic, isn't it?"

"Why is that ironic, Mr. Lupin?"

Sirius kicked Remus's chair. "Makes you feel old when she calls you that, doesn't it?"

"I am old," he replied, "and at least I act my age. . . most of the time."

they chuckled at a private joke, then Remus continued explaining. "The Black family is one of the oldest, darkest, and at one time, was one of the most powerful families in all of Wizarding Britain. With that history, I assumed he had turned to the Dark Arts and Voldemort, even after he ignored the fact I was a werewolf for years."

"Ignored?" Sirius sounded highly offended, but humor crept back into his voice. "I was scared to death. The only reason I did it was because I thought being 'caring' and 'brave' would land me more witches."

"Didn't work, did it?" Remus asked. "Shame too. Merlin knows your looks weren't going to help any."

Sirius picked up another breakfast roll and threw it at Remus, and was smacked on the arm by Mrs. Weasley as she walked by.

"Don't waste my food," she reprimanded him.

"What?" he protested, then winked at his godson. "Harry threw it, not me."

"In that case"—she reached over and smacked him again—"that's for not keeping your godson under control."

Laughter rose from the table and to Fleur surprise, she found herself laughing right along with them.

Mrs. Weasley took the opportunity to shovel another helping (or two) of eggs and bangers on Harry's plate. Then she caught Fleur's eye and smiled at her, leaned over, and did the same before Fleur could say anything. "I imagine you've been through a lot, you need to eat, and I want no protests."

Fleur nodded, noticing the inner-strength the Weasley matriarch exuded, even in her loss.

Harry's voice drew her from her thoughts. "But how do you know each other?" he asked one of the two men.

"The Blacks and Weasleys are both pure-blood families," Sirius answered. "In this world that means we're related. Her uncle Ignatius was my uncle by marriage. I spent most of my summers at his and Lucretia's house before I left home. Molly was there often. She was a few years older than me so naturally—"

"He spent the time terrorizing me," Mrs. Weasley said with a wistful voice, "That is, when he wasn't dueling the neighbor witch, or trying to seduce her."

At this comment, Sirius spread out his arms and tried for a look of innocence.

It just made him look all the more guilty, Fleur thought, laughing within herself.

"But how did you know he wasn't. . ." Harry stopped—not able to form the word for some reason.

"Dumbledore informed us when we came to see you earlier this year. We offered the Burrow as a safe-haven and Dumbledore said he would pass it on, but the mutt turned us down. Then, once we helped Minerva get some of the younger children to safety, I practically kidnapped him for his own sake, again.

"Again?" Harry repeated.

Sirius glanced at Mrs. Weasley, then took a deep breath. "Harry, the Burrow was a safe-house in the war against Voldemort. After. . . after your parents had the Fidelius Charm put in place, we agreed that I shouldn't be seen much. Once Molly found out that I was supposedly the secret keeper, she cornered me in Longbottom's kitchen. After the first three or four hexes, I decided it'd be good for my health to stay at the Burrow like Arthur and Molly were offering."

"Then that means. . ." he turned to Mrs. Weasley, who was looking down at the table.

"Yes Harry," Sirius answered for her. "I was sitting where you're sitting now when Dumbledore's Patronus Charm informed me that Voldemort had attacked."

Fleur saw Harry's emotional wounds that still bled pain from the loss of his parents and bit her bottom lip, again amazed at how much the young wizard carried on his shoulders.

Mrs. Weasley sniffed. "It was the darkest day in my life—'till yesterday." She quickly picked up a couple empty dishes and hurried off into the kitchen, only to return with moist eyes and more food.

Remus took another roll and bit into it, studying it intently before continuing the story. "Molly and Arthur weren't involved in the war, supposedly. But do you really think a witch of Molly's. . . constitution," he said delicately, which earned him a watery smile, "would let her two brothers be part of it without doing anything herself?"

"I was pregnant through most of it," she cut in, "All I could do was offer a safe house."

"Which was probably Arthur's plan," Sirius said half-jokingly. Then all humor escaped his voice. "And he was a good man for it. There was so much death, so much heartache. We were losing friends left and right and the Prewetts had lost too many in the damn war already."

His composure broke. He slammed his hand on the table and turned to Mrs. Weasley, his words coming out in a fury. "I saw them all last night, right in the middle of the battle. I did every bloody damn thing I could to save Arthur, but I was no use until I could find a wand and by then—"

Mrs. Weasley put her hand on Sirius's arm, crying once again. "I know you did, and you almost got yourself killed saving my life."

She explained it to Harry. "He took down a Death Eater, took the wand in his mouth, and chased after me. We ran into the Forbidden Forest and hid, protecting some of the wounded and younger students that were with us. That's when he transformed and just about killed me with fright—"

"What do you mean, 'transformed?' " asked Fleur.

"Did you ever wonder why a big, black, mangy dog was always walking around the students during Hogsmeade weekends?" Sirius asked her.

"I thought it was just looking for. . . that was you?"

"It was him, and a fool of a chance he took too," Remus answered for him.

Molly continued. "Last night, after he transformed, he held off numerous Death Eaters as we moved the children deeper into the woods. He saved my life, the lives of twenty or thirty First and Second Years, and a few older ones that were helping us as well."

"Not enough," Sirius whispered, "how many of them are dead today?"

"I don't know, if this is a sign of things to come, then those who are alive today, may be dead tomorrow." Remus looked out the window with a thousand-yard stare. "We don't even know what today will look like now—"

"Dragon spit!" Mrs. Weasley swore. "How could I forget that!"

"What?" Remus asked, confused.

Her voice rose an octave, "How could I have forgotten the Longum-interimere Spell.

Fleur looked back and forth between the three of them, wondering why each face had blanched.

Mrs. Weasley tensed. "Harry, after you finish eating, you're going to go into the other room with Remus and Sirius and let them look you over; make sure you weren't hit with the spell. Fleur, you'll come upstairs with me for privacy. Then we'll get some clean clothes for both of you."

"Mrs. Weasley," Harry began.

Sirius cut him off. "Don't argue with her Harry. I'm a damn fool for forgetting about that. Molly's seen more of this kind of thing than you can ever imagine."

"Pardon moi for asking, but what is this spell?"

Mrs. Weasley turned to Fleur with a look of disgust. For a moment, Fleur thought it was directed at her. But then the older witch began speaking. "It is a spell to terrorize families. Loved ones are attacked, but live. they go home to their families and everyone is happy because mummy or daddy is still alive. Then, whatever spell was cast with it, begins to take root in the body and wreak havoc, slowly killing the person in front of their loved ones who are powerless to stop it. We only figured it out about three months before the war was over."

"That is 'orrible; you think we were 'it with it?"

"Probably not," Molly said forcefully. "But I am also not going to be stupid enough to assume you weren't. We figured out how to counter it, but it has to be within the first twenty-four hours. We have more than enough time to finish our breakfast. After that, however, you both are going to be checked out thoroughly."

Harry and Fleur both nodded, but didn't say anything. A heaviness settled over the table as they ate their meals in silence.

As they were finishing, Sirius finally asked, "What happened last night? When they attacked, the professors immediately removed the maze, but all four of you were gone."

Harry set his fork down and leaned back, looking at Fleur. Her shoulders slumped and she returned his gaze.

Sirius's eyes narrowed considerably as he saw the change in the two teenagers.

"It was a Portkey," Harry finally answered. "Cedric and I figured out that something was wrong, so we stayed together in the maze. We found Fleur a little later and convinced her as well. When we came upon Krum, he almost cursed us, but was able to fight off an Imperius Spell someone had cast on him."

"What?" Remus growled, sounding unquestionably more like a wolf than a human at the moment.

Fleur also noticed Sirius's hand twitching for his wand, which she had already given back to him.

"We decided there was no way we were going to separate after that and finished the maze together. But when we found the cup, no one wanted to claim the victory. Like an idiot, I suggested we split it between the four of us and we all reached for the cup at the same time. It turned out to be a Portkey, and took us to a cemetery."

Harry almost jumped at the touch of Fleur's hand on his own.

"Non, 'Arry, don't call yourself an idiot for suggesting what was most fair."

She took over explaining. "It was awful. there were over a 'undred of them—Death Eaters I think you call them. All but ten Apparated to 'Ogwarts. The ten, they bound 'im. 'Arry told us to leave but instead, we 'id at the bottom of the leetle 'ill. We watched as they cut 'is arm, then collected 'is blood in a vial. they poured it in a cauldron that Voldemort was in and he resurrected—"

"WHAT!" Sirius's chair flipped over. He was on his feet, his wand in his hand.

"Easy, Sirius. He's not here now, is he?" asked Remus.

Sirius righted the chair and sat down. "I'm sorry, Ms. Delacour. Please continue."

"After Voldemort returned, 'e 'it 'Arry with the Cruciatus Curse many times."

Sirius and Remus both turned and stared at Harry. Mrs. Weasley let out a strangled cry and clamped her hand over her mouth.

"That was when," Harry broke in, "the three of them came back up the little hill and killed three of the Death Eaters. Cedric killed the one next to Voldemort, who in turn killed him."

Harry was silent for a few seconds, obviously reliving the scene.

"Then what happened?" Remus softly prodded.

Fleur noticed Harry was about to continue. She reached over and put her hand on his again, but left it there this time. The corner of Fleur's lip pulled up slightly, proud of what she was about to say. "Then, 'Arry saved my life. I was about to be 'it with the killing curse when 'Arry got the bâtard with a Cruciatus Curse."

"Harry!" Mrs. Weasley screeched. "That is a dark curse! And illegal!"

Sirius cut in, raising his voice slightly. "I don't think the legality of the curse is an issue Molly, especially since he was facing the darkest wizard in over a century and the murderer of his parents."

"Exactement!" exclaimed Fleur. "Then 'Arry cast another curse and 'e cast one too. the curses met in the air and turned gold, lifting them off the ground and setting them down in a clear spot, but they were caged in by light. 'Arry won the duel and the curse 'it Voldemort so 'ard 'e was thrown to the other side of the graveyard. then I grabbed 'Arry, and we Apparated to the road outside of 'Ogwarts.

"A little while later we were attacked. Viktor was killed, but 'Arry saved my life, again. this time, 'e flew out of the castle on his broom, disarmed three Death Eaters and killed two others, then threw 'is broom at me and told me to leave. But there was no way I was leaving. 'E took out the last Death Eater, then we both mounted 'is broom and flew to your cave." She looked at Sirius as she finished and noticed pride surging through him, the same was true of Remus.

"There's so much of his father in him," Sirius mumbled.

"Maybe too much," Remus muttered into his cup as he took a drink.

Sirius looked at his long-time mate and smirked. "Don't worry, Moony, I doubt he's going in to town to pick up power-converters."

"Prat."

"Hey, it was your idea to see what Muggles did for fun and take us to a drive-inn on my bike all those year ago."

X ~ X ~ X ~ X

An hour later, Fleur was upstairs, now stripped to her bloomers. Mrs. Weasley was running her hand and wand over every inch of Fleur's exposed body. "I'm sorry. I know this must be embarrassing, but I lost too many friends in the war to the spell. Like Sirius said, we finally figured it our towards the end; but by then, I lost both brothers."

Fleur opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, conflicted. She didn't belong in a house like this; a house that spoke of little money and even less societal concern. Not even six months ago, she would have turned her nose up and Apparated straight back to France without a second thought.

But now? There was no way she'd leave Harry to deal with the consequences of last night. She couldn't walk away and ignore what had happened; nor, she realized, to her confusion, did she want to.

Then there was the witch caring for her now. She wouldn't have given Mrs. Weasley a second look had she passed her on the street. But watching her this morning as she wrestled with the death of her family and remembering the strength that emanated from her, Fleur pondered how she could have been so wrong with her first impression. Of course, she had to admit to herself that she'd been just as wrong about Harry, Sirius, and Remus.

How many others had she been wrong about?

The question was too uncomfortable. Instead, she looked around the room, hoping to find something to spark conversation. Fleur saw the hairbrushes, the bands and untouched ribbons to tie up hair, and pictures that spoke of a young witches' friends and hopes.

"Was this your daughter's room?" she asked innocently.

Mr. Weasley hesitated and Fleur saw her erect an emotional wall.

Fleur lowered her head. "Je suis désolé—I am sorry. I am beginning to see that I think and say things without regard of others."

"We all have our foibles," Mrs. Weasley assured her in a kind voice. "You'll never know the kindness you paid me by saving Harry. I think of him as one of my own."

Mrs. Weasley paused for a moment, then came to a decision. "I know my house isn't the picture of grandeur you're probably used to, but you are welcomed to stay here whenever you have need." She moved to Fleur's back, still searching inch by inch.

Fleur turned her head slightly to look in Ginny's mirror, ashamed of the reflection for the first time in her life. Here was a witch who had lost her family in one night; yet she was opening her arms and home to Fleur, even though she obviously knew what Fleur thought of her home and by extension, her.

It is time to put away childish things.

Her first attempt to do so fell short. "I think your 'ouse is lovely."

Mrs. Weasley stopped and sat back on her heals. "No, you don't, I read it on your face all morning, but that's okay. You protected Harry last night. You also could have left him here this morning and Apparated away, maybe even back to France, depending on how good you are at it, but you didn't. Instead, you stayed in a place that you thought was below you to make sure Harry was okay. That means more to me than anything you could think about what my late husband could provide."

The rebuke coated in the compliment crushed Fleur. She spun around and faced the older witch in a rush of emotion. "Forgive me. I started this year 'aughty and arrogant. I don't wish to finish it that way, not with someone who loves 'Arry so much."

Why did she say that?

Mrs. Weasley wondered the same thing. She moved to the bed and sat down. "I finished checking your back. You're safe."

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley."

"I believe you're seventeen, is that correct, Fleur?"

"Oui."

"Then you're of age and my name is Molly, okay?"

Fleur smiled and put on the old shirt Molly had brought in while her clothes were being cleaned. She reached back and pulled her hair out from under the shirt, giving a furtive but longing glance to a hairbrush sitting on the desk.

Molly saw the glance. "It's okay. There are a lot of things I'm going to be sentimental about when it comes to my daughter, but her hairbrush is not going to be one of them, trust me. Matter of fact, why don't you bring it here."

Fleur did as Molly asked, handing her the hairbrush.

"Sit down and talk with me." Then Molly gestured with the hairbrush to Fleur's hair, "do you mind?"

"I think I would feel uncomfortable since you've done so much already and all I 'ave done is insult your 'ome and 'usband."

Molly gazed at her for a moment, then instructed her again to sit down and asked, "What happened to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You are not the Fleur that I saw at Hogwarts."

Fleur, now sitting, shook her head slowly. "I don't know. Everything is so different in such a short period. I don't know where to start explaining."

"I understand." Molly empathized. "In that case, I'm going to be blunt. But first, turn around and let me brush your hair. As I've said, you brought Harry to us safely and we are in your debt for that—and I can tell it's pushing you 'round the twist not being able to brush it."

Fleur nodded, not able to deny the longing, though it seemed so incongruent with the discussion and the last few days.

Molly drew the brush through the long, platinum hair. "Sometimes, when so much changes so fast, it's the small pleasures like having your hair brushed that help reorient ourselves. Strange, I know, but it's true."

"But was does 'Arry 'ave to reorient 'imself?"

"Harry," Molly breathed his name. "Harry is more than 'The Boy Who Lived', He's a young man who has seen nothing but heartache, pain, and suffering in his life. Very few people ever care to get to know the real Harry. I don't know if he has anything to help him reorient himself."

"I can see that," Fleur said. "'E's been through so much. I overheard Dumbledore talking with 'im about those awful people 'e lives with."

"Awful is too kind of a word for them. At the end of every summer, Harry comes here looking like a wraith. He usually loses half a stone of weight during the summer months, but it's not just food. He's starved for love, affection, friendship, everything you and I take for granted." She took a deep breath, then whispered. "I don't know how he's going to bear the weight of it all now."

"What do you mean?" Fleur turned back around to see Molly gauging her. It felt as if she was being weighed and measured, and maybe even had been found wanting. It both angered and humbled Fleur.

"How committed are you to seeing this through with Harry?" Molly asked, surprising her.

"I 'aven't thought about it beyond what to do next. But I am willing to bring 'im to France with me, so we may plan together. 'E would stay with me and my family to be safe."

Molly nodded. "You need to know, everyone he has loved and everyone who has loved him, except for those in this house, are dead."

The plain, ugly truth sucked the wind out of Fleur. "Everyone?"

"Everyone. Ron and Hermione, the twins, my daughter, my husband, Dumbledore; Sirius, Remus, and myself are probably all that's left of a world that he was introduced to four years ago. As far as I can tell, no one loved him before he came into this world either.

There are no words. . . But she was caught short by Molly's next request.

"Whatever you do, don't hurt him."

"What does this mean, 'don't 'urt 'im'?"

"I just worry about him," Molly temporized, realizing she'd said too much.

"I don't want to 'urt 'im. 'E's 'ad too much 'urt already."

"Good." Molly paused. "Will you promise me something?"

"Quoi?" Fleur asked, remembering a conversation like this a little over twelve hours ago.

"Promise me that if you take him to France, you'll keep him there. Do everything in your power. Hex him, tie him up to the tree outside your house, even use your Veela charm if you have to, but don't let him come back here. I know Harry. If he comes back, he will seek out He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and will kill him. Win or lose, Harry will lose himself in the hunt."

"I'm afraid 'E already 'as. I need to tell you something, but that man downstairs, Sirius, he loves 'Arry too?"

"Yes, very much."

"Will 'Arry listen to 'im?"

"Maybe. It depends." Molly gave Fleur a very stern look. "What are you saying? I want to know, now."

"I think we need Sirius here too."

X ~ X ~ X ~ X

While Mrs. Weasley and Fleur were upstairs, Sirius and Remus took Harry into the front room. Harry disrobed gingerly.

"Harry, you need to learn how to duck a few of them curses," Sirius joked, trying to cover the uneasiness he felt at the marks on Harry's body.

Across Harry's chest, shoulders, and upper arms; blue, purple, red, and green streaks highlighted every blood vessel in the skin. He looked like a living, breathing road map.

"Still feeling the effects of last night?" Remus asked.

"Speaking of last night," Sirius said, raising his eyebrow, "I noticed the story ended with Krum being killed, and the two of you flying to my cave. Then you two show up on the doorstep this morning. Did you stay in the cave all night?"

"Yeah, Fleur warded it so light and sound couldn't escape."

"Oh? Light and sound?"

"Sirius," Remus said under his breath, "leave it alone."

He turned to Remus, "No, it is my responsibility as his godfather to make sure that all things are handled . . . appropriately."

Harry finished disrobing, standing before them in a pair of boxers. they began checking him over for wounds too small for the eye to see at first, careful not to cause more pain as they ran their hands and wands over the skin.

Harry finally answered. "Yeah, light and sound, why?"

"Oh, no reason," Sirius chuckled. "Where did you sleep?" he asked.

"In the cave, I just said that."

"That's not what I'm asking, Harry."

Remus shot Sirius a warning glance.

"Then what are you asking?"

Sirius just grinned from ear to ear and continued to search along his chest.

"Sirius?" Harry asked again, a bit agitated.

"I was asking, where, in the cave did you sleep."

"I don't know, against one of the walls, why?"

"And where did Fleur sleep?" Sirius pushed.

Remus groaned and shook his head.

"In the cave as well."

Impossibly, Sirius's grin got even larger. "I was just wondering how you um—liked my cave?"

"Fine, I guess . . ."

"Just fine? You didn't find it extraordinary last night? Or even incredible?"

"It was dark and I barely even saw what I was doing, let alone checked things out, why?"

Sirius hooted in laughter.

Harry looked over at Remus. "What's he getting on about?"

"Oh, nothing. He's just wondering if you and Fleur mixed potions last night."

"Mixed . . . what?"

Sirius stopped and leaned back. "You know Harry, since I am your godfather, it's my place to tell you that if you are going to mix potions with a witch, make sure you are wearing the proper robes."

Lupin snorted and Harry rolled his eyes. "Are you really asking if I wore a glove while catching her Snitch last night?"

Sirius rolled on to his side in laughter. It wasn't that he hadn't heard that before, just neverfrom Harry.

"Just to make myself clear, nothing like that happened." Harry said a little defensively.

Sirius resumed his search for the traces of the curse. "Alright, I just had to ask."

"Why?" Harry barked at him.

"Because the way she kept touching your arm and hand this morning, the way she got angry with you when she thought I was being a pure-blooded bigot, it means something Harry."

"What?"

"Nope, it's for you to figure out, though I will say this. From what little I heard and saw, that young lady upstairs, is one hell of a witch."

"Yeah," Harry mumbled, "Try sleeping with her arm and leg draped over you half the night."

"What was that?" Remus asked with a huge smile. "You mumbled."

"Never mind."

Remus and Sirius both grinned, but the moment's humor disappeared as the Protection Charms over the Burrow sounded. Three people Apparated to the back field. A second charm alerted them the backyard had been breached. Harry pulled on his trousers and trainers just as whoever it was reached the back door. He stood next to Sirius, naked from the waist up and gripping his wand for a fight.

Remus disappeared into the kitchen to meet the visitors.

Out of the corner of Harry's eye, he noticed Fleur at the top of the stairs with Mrs. Weasley, staring at the marks on his chest.

Remus's voice broke the silence. "Bloody Hell!"

As far as Harry remembered, his former professor never swore—this wasn't going to be good.