Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter world, which is trademarked by J. K. Rowling; this fanfiction is my own work and is intended purely for entertainment purposes and I in no way make a profit off of it.
AN: I felt this would be a good time to write a disclaimer as there is an excerpt from "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" towards the end of the chapter, the reasoning behind it will be provided at the end of the chapter.
Revised: 6/15/2019
Exam season was coming to a close, and with it the end of the spring term. This of course, meant that the guests from Durmstrang and Beauxbaton would soon be returning to their respective countries.
For the past couple of weeks Harry and Fleur were near inseparable, which came as a surprise to the few Gryffindors who considered themselves close to the youngest Triwizard champion.
It's not that Harry had really gone out of his way to avoid any of his house, just that he'd spent the majority of the time either buried in books in the library or putting any particularly difficult spells he came across into practice out on the school grounds or in a secluded classroom. A quick notice-me-not charm on the door was enough to ensure his privacy. An experienced witch or wizard could dispel it in seconds, but it would stop the average student and warn him with enough time to not be interrupted while casting anything too dangerous.
When it came to practicing dueling Fleur's help was invaluable, and it became quickly apparent that the talented French witch was understating her abilities significantly when she claimed she could be of some help. When Harry pointed out this fact, she shyly clarified her previous statement.
"Well, 'zere are a couple 7th years that can duel me on even footing, but of 'ze rest, I'm 'ze best." Her words themselves were humble enough, but she couldn't quite hide the pride in her tone.
"Heh, so much for specializing in enchanting," Harry mumbled with grin.
"'Zat was not a lie 'Arry," she shot back quickly. "I didn't bring any'zing with me, per'aps sometime I could show you some of my work. I may not be a 'otshot seeker but I 'ave built my own broom, perhaps you will see when I return 'ome."
Harry expression was apparently reaction enough for Fleur to elaborate futher. The young witch's love for enchanting was quickly made apparent as she pontificated on the subject; it seemed like she could talk for hours on the intricacies of her craft.
However, Harry was even more focused on the prospect of being able to see Fleur after she left with the rest of her school. With the end of term coming up, he had been dreading having to leave the witch who he had grown so close to in such a short time.
"I would love that, although I can't exactly offer a warm family experience if you do end up visiting me," remembering exactly who his company for the summer was, "but I'd never refused your company."
She seemed to wonder what exactly he'd meant by his odd phrasing but to his relief dropped the matter for now. Fleur flashed a white smile and motioned for Harry to resume his practice. He was really starting to get the hang of the bludgeoning curses they'd been drilling lately.
Harry and Fleur had made use of an extremely handy variation of a standard dueling ward. The revised spell was aptly named a sparring ward, which, with the consent of both participants, would reduce the effectiveness of all spells cast within the area for as long as the ward held. With this, the potentially bone breaking bludgeoners would do no more than knock them down.
Harry, having improved both his casting speed and precision greatly in the past weeks sent a steady stream of lightweight bludgeoners across the field towards his French counterpart, making sure to practice his control through the amount of magic he pushed into each spell. Fleur, knowing only bludgeoners were being flung, effortlessly deflected them off to the sides of her unmoving figure. Putting in extra effort to block the spells fully would only be a waste in the long run.
According to the text Modern Curses and their Counters, knowing the incoming spell would make it significantly easier to reflect or shield. Also, in the case of more lethal curses, knowing if it was even possible to block a certain spell was crucial. Incidentally, this was the same text that Harry had gleaned the tip about magical output when applied to spells that had a quantifiable output.
In other words, a charm like the switching spell, which swapped the locations of any two objects within a certain area would be unaffected by overpowering it. On the other hand, an unrestrained Incendio had the potential to produce a flame that could cause almost irreparable damage. However with proper control, one could safely light a cigar with the same spell.
Fleur had already been familiar with the concept and was a bit surprised that Hogwarts hadn't taught it yet by fourth year. Nevertheless, she once more proved how valuable her experience would be for Harry's own progress.
Harry began weaving medium power bludgeoners every third shot, forcing Fleur to adjust the strength of her counters. Deflecting a spell required a more isolated variation of a common protego formed around the wand hand as the spell approaches, making technique even more important than simply the power of the shield. Taking advantage of this fact Harry threw in a high powered bludgeoner forcing Fleur to default back to a full bodied shield to avoid any damage.
"Ok, 'zat is enough, 'Arry," Fleur called across the clearing, "it still surprises me 'zat you 'ave taken to silent casting so prodigiously!" She said with a hint of pride.
Her praise, besides evoking a pride in himself that had been sorely lacking for most of his life, brought him back to remembering what spurred him to begin the practice in the first place.
It was only a few days after he'd gotten out of the hospital wing and set about on his personal studies.
Harry had nearly finished reviewing all the previous year's texts relating to combat magic and was finishing up the last practical spells on Flitwick's charms syllabus as Fleur watched on while lounged on a transfigured couch. They were currently in an abandoned classroom as the spells they were practicing didn't really require too much room. Harry, having practiced this spell from sunup to sundown for nearly a week earlier in the year, smirked confidently and summoned a pillow from under where Fleur's head was resting with a staccato "accio" nearly upending the beautiful French witch from her perch on the couch.
"Mon Dieu! What ze 'ell, 'Arry!" She shrieked as the boy in question tried and failed to muffle his laughter.
"I was just checking to make sure the spell still worked," he answered glancing to the side innocently, only to be smacked in the face by Fleur's other pillow. Harry sat stunned as his friend smirked right back at him.
"I see 'ze banishing charm works as intended as well! Good to know!" The only appropriate response to the situation was taken, and a magical pillow fight ensued with egregious use of levitation and banishing charms. The fight ended when Fleur duplicated her last pillow with a whispered "gemino", and Harry was buried in a literal mountain of pillows.
A mumbled "I surrender" was all that was heard from the pile.
After vanishing the spare pillows and settling back side by side on the couch, Harry's hair a veritable bird's nest of down, Fleur breached a subject she had been considering for a while.
"'Arry?"
"Yeah what's up?"
"I remember you summoning your broom for 'ze first task correct?" She queried. Harry nodded.
"And it didn't come from 'ze crowd correct? It seemed to fly from somewhere in 'ze castle, 'zat's why it took so long, non?"
"Hmm, yeah, looking back on it now, it would have been significantly easier to give my firebolt to Hermione or someone in the crowd, so it was closer, but what's your point? Harry answered, not seeing where the witch was going with this line of questioning.
"Well I was just wondering, since it's obviously not due to a lack of power, why do you still speak 'ze incantation for a spell you have such obvious mastery over?"
Harry was dumbfounded.
It wasn't due to an ignorance of the ability of a witch or wizard to cast silently as he had obviously seen his professors do it on more than one occasion. It was more so that he had never considered himself to be at a level where it would be possible. "Huh. Well I'd never really considered it. Do you really think I could do that, Fleur?"
The witch answered with a nod, "Oui. Wiz' 'ze distance you summoned from, it would not surprise me if you 'ad 'ze potential to silently cast most of your arsenal eventually, 'owever for right now 'zere is one spell you absolutely need to be able to cast silently."
"Why's zat—I mean that?" Harry said, correcting himself. Embarrassed by his slip he continued, "I can guess it offers an advantage by your opponent being unable to predict the spells you are casting but what's so important that I learn right now?"
In lieu of a proper response Fleur stood and glided across the room before turning back to him and stating simply: "curse me."
"What?! Why?" came the panicked response.
"Too noble for your own good 'Arry," she said with a sigh, "Do you not 'zink I could handle it? Besides, I am teaching."
Still seeming reluctant Harry rose and began the motions of a harmless jelly legs jinx. "Tallen-"
"Silencio" Fleur interrupted with a carefully aimed silencing charm before grinning at the younger champion. "Can you guess what spell you need to learn to learn wordlessly yet?" she questioned with a sarcastic lilt to her voice.
"…."
"hmmm? I didn't quite catch that," she taunted cupping one flawlessly manicured hand to her ear. Harry, having understood the message rolled his eyes and sat back down on the couch not quite hiding the smile at seeing the gorgeous witch loosen up a bit.
Having made her point Fleur simultaneously gave the answer to the lesson and returned Harry's ability to speak with a silently cast finite.
"A simple, 'learn to cast finite wordlessly' would have been enough you know." Harry muttered mulishly, secretly grateful for the imparted knowledge.
"I wanted 'ze message to stick." Fleur shot back with a coquettish smile.
Harry had shown a startling proficiency for silent casting after he'd attempted it for the first time. He'd further supplemented Fleur's knowledge with information from a book found in the restricted section which dealt with some of the more esoteric principles regarding magic. Harry found the text more fascinating than any he had read before and it had quickly become his go-to when it came to learning more about the unquantifiable source of power that was magic itself. The text had been more helpful to his progress than most academic texts he had found. And all with nothing more to claim credit than a simple title on the front cover:
"Intent, Power, Control"
Based on what he had learned about magical output, this was a title he felt was entirely appropriate, having put it into practice just minutes before while alternating the power in his bludgeoning hexes.
For the first time since attending Hogwarts, Harry had truly felt for the sensation of his magic bending the laws of nature to his will, and being in tune with his magic as he cast spells had several noticeable effects.
Harry could now focus on the amount of magic he let "flow" into a spell, which allowed him to control the power of the result of the spell. The possibilities were endless. A simple stunner could render an opponent dazed for just long enough to follow up with something more permanent or knock out a target for several hours, a simple water conjuring charm could fill a goblet or bury a man in a deluge of water strong enough to crush him.
Secondly, as he grew more in tune with his magic, Harry began to be able to feel the way certain spells shaped his magic as they were cast. This was the essential first step to silent casting. Of the many sources Harry had read on the subject in the previous week, one point agreed upon almost universally was that casting nonverbally was much more than just thinking the words in your head. It would be more accurate to describe it as shaping your magic with the intent of the spell without the guidelines of the incantation. Although quite proficient for the amount of time he had to practice, there were only a handful of combat spells Harry could cast nonverbally so far.
Disarming and stunning nonverbally came to him pretty quickly, seeing as he was most familiar with casting these, and while he could manage a weak silent protego, it wasn't quite ready to be used against someone with genuine intent to kill. Harry also had a strange affinity for summoning and banishing, having already put so much effort into learning the spell in the first place. The bludgeoning curse was another incredibly useful spell that came to him quite easily, and while he took a while to learn to cast them nonverbally, he was constantly building speed and accuracy with his wandwork.
Having practiced with the spell so much Harry discovered that the wand motion (when cast accurately) ended in the same spot that it began. This unique trait allowed multiple bludgeoners to be chained together which could throw even the most experienced duelists off balance.
Fleur interrupted his ruminations as she strolled over and joined him in returning to the castle "We've been out 'ere almost 'ze 'ole day, why don't we get something to eat? We'll be leaving early tomorrow morning you know..." Fleur mentioned with a frown.
Reminded of his friend's imminent departure, Harry replied with a sad smile, "Thanks again for helping me out so much, Fleur, I'm not sure what I'm going to do for practice when I won't have my favorite dueling partner anymore."
She grinned softly. "Oh please, your power 'as already surpassed my own and your technique has only gotten better each day. Plus, it was as much for my enjoyment as it was for yours," she added more quietly as they passed the entrance to the Great Hall earning glares from the non-Gryffindors who still questioned the truth behind the death of Cedric Diggory. "Plus, your power is still growing, and I can't imagine any of your peers picking up silent wandwork as easily as you 'ave.
Just focus on your theory and stockpile more spells to increase your arsenal and I can come visit sometime this summer and we can work from there." She finished as they sat down at the end of the Gryffindor table away from the rest of the house. By this point in time, the two champions sitting together was commonplace and didn't gain any more attention than a glare from Ginny Weasley further down the table and the occasional glazed look from more than a couple wizards throughout the room.
Harry nodded good-naturedly to Dean and Seamus sitting opposite Fleur and himself who, despite sporting slightly dazed expressions, had been nothing but respectful to his new friend. Harry spared a glance to Ron and Hermione sitting several seats down the table, but the two made no indication that they had even noticed him.
Dumbledore stood, causing the chatter despite the somber mood to cease.
*"The end." Said Dumbledore, looking around at them all, "of another year."
He paused, and his eyes fell upon the Hufflepuff table. Theirs had been the most subdued table before he had gotten to his feet, and theirs were still the saddest and palest faces in the Hall.
"There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight," said Dumbledore, "but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here," he gestured toward the Hufflepuffs, "enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory."
They did it, all of them; the benches scraped as everyone in the Hall stood, and raised their goblets, and echoed, in one loud, low, rumbling voice, "Cedric Diggory."
Harry caught a glimpse of Cho through the crowd. There were tears pouring silently down her face. He looked down at the table as they all sat down again.
"Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Hufflepuff house," Dumbledore continued. "He was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about."
Harry raised his head and stared at Dumbledore.
"Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort."
A panicked whisper swept the Great Hall. People were staring at Dumbledore in disbelief, in horror. He looked perfectly calm as he watched them mutter themselves into silence.
"The Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore continued, "does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so – either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Cedric died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory."
Stunned and frightened, every face in the Hall was turned toward Dumbledore now. . . or almost every face. Over at the Slytherin table, Harry saw Draco Malfoy muttering something to Crabbe and Goyle. Harry felt a hot, sick swoop of anger in his stomach. He forced himself to look back at Dumbledore.
"There is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with Cedric's death," Dumbledore went on. "I am talking, of course, about Harry Potter."
A kind of ripple crossed the Great Hall as a few heads turned in Harry's direction before flicking back to face Dumbledore.
"Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort," said Dumbledore. "He risked his own life to return Cedric's body to Hogwarts. He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor him."
Dumbledore turned gravely to Harry and raised his goblet once more. Nearly everyone in the Great Hall followed suit. They murmured his name, as they had murmured Cedric's, and drank to him. But through a gap in the standing figures, Harry saw that Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and many of the other Slytherins had remained defiantly in their seats, their goblets untouched. Dumbledore, who after all possessed no magical eye, did not see them.
When everyone had once again resumed their seats, Dumbledore continued, "The Triwizard Tournament's aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened – of Lord Voldemort's return – such ties are more important than ever before."
Dumbledore looked from Madame Maxime and Hagrid, to Fleur Delacour [sitting next to Harry at the Gryffindor table] and her fellow Beauxbatons students, to Viktor Krum and the Durmstrangs at the Slytherin table. Krum, Harry saw, looked wary, almost frightened, as though he expected to say something harsh.
"Every guest in this Hall," said Dumbledore, and his eyes lingered upon the Durmstrang students, "will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again – in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.
"It is my belief – and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken – that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder. A week ago, a student was taken from our midst.
"Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory."*
By the end of his thought-provoking speech Fleur was clutching his hand underneath the table. Despite the mood left by Dumbledore words, Harry was further resolved to be better, to prevent tragedies such as this from ever occurring again. To prevent witches and wizards like Cho losing their loved ones, Harry promised himself that he would be better.
He had to be better.
This being the last night for the moment he had with Fleur, Harry placated himself with the knowledge that he would be seeing her again somehow this summer. With that thought in mind he dug in to the huge feast that magically appeared in front of him with a motion from his headmaster, content with the progress he had made and resolved that he would be unrecognizable by the time he sat down at these tables once again.
*Italicized text at the end surrounded by asterisks is an excerpt from Harry potter and the Goblet of Fire.
AN: Hope you all enjoyed the chapter, I think by dialogue is improving bit. I thought nothing would blow time like reading fanfiction until I actually started writing it jeeze, mad props to all you career writers out there I don't envy your sleep schedule, though I am really enjoying this so far. The reasoning behind including that passage from J.K. Rowling's original novels is that I think that for the majority of us, (myself included) we read so much fanfiction that we haven't actually read the novels in a while and forget some of the bomb-ass speeches Dumbledore pulls out of his ass, especially with all the manipulative!dumbledore themed fics out there. I just thought people needed reminding what a charismatic individual he truly is sometimes. I promise I wasn't padding my wordcount as it really doesn't matter to me at all. Until next time!