Chapter Four: Fleur
I first saw Fleur Delacour's name in the Daily Prophet within an article that seemed like it was supposed to have been an introductory piece to the Triwizard Champions, but which was really just a long, melodramatic profile of Harry Potter with Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum's names crammed in at the end. No mention was made of Amos Diggory's son.
"Was Rita Skeeter on some sort of mind altering substance when she wrote this?" I asked incredulously, looking up from my copy of the Daily Prophet.
Dora looked up distractedly from the file she was reading.
"Isn't that woman always on some kind of mind altering substance?" she replied vaguely.
"Mmm, good point. According to this article, Harry Potter spends every night sobbing over his dead parents."
"Oh yeah right, like any fourteen year-old boy would tell a newspaper a thing like that," she said with a slight sneer.
"Yeah, plus, Harry Potter really isn't a crier."
"Since when are you such an expert on Harry Potter's crying tendencies?"
"Do you really want me to answer that, Dora?"
"Oh," she said with a blink of comprehension, and then returned to her files.
Dora was very well aware of the fact that I was in contact with Sirius, and she may have suspected that I knew where he was hiding, but she never came right out and asked me about it. It was her first year as a fully qualified Auror, and we both felt that discussing Sirius would somehow endanger that position.
I didn't give much though to the Triwizard Tournament, I had no reason to. I would occasionally scan the Prophet in hopes of finding worthwhile piece on it, but that was largely futile.
My real information about the Triwizard came in the form of Charlie Weasley, who was in Britain to assist with the First Task.
"It was so cool; they had to get past these dragons and try to get a golden egg—"
"Isn't that a bit dangerous?" I interrupted.
Charlie and Dora rolled their eyes at each other.
"Of course it's a bit dangerous, Andy, that's the point of the Tournament. But there were tons of dragon control personnel standing by. We weren't going to let any of the champions sustain any serious injuries."
"So how'd they get past it?" Dora asked.
Charlie gave in depth descriptions of how the champions got passed the dragons, he was particularly enthusiastic about Harry's performance (which I already knew the details of; Sirius couldn't keep himself from bragging), but then, Charlie was always enthusiastic about impressive broomstick feats.
"…and Fleur tried to put hers into same kind of trance, but halfway through her go the dragon threw it off and set her skirt on fire. She's quite fit, Fleur," he finished, rather anticlimactically, I must say.
"Well, good, I don't know what I would've done without the information that some eighteen year-old French girl is good looking."
Charlie opened his mouth indignantly, obviously with a clever comeback on the tip of his tongue, but before he was able to utter this comeback, Dora continued onto a completely different line of thought.
"You know, this Tournament thing seems pretty cool, too bad it didn't happen when we were at school."
"Yes dear, because you simply don't have enough danger in your life as it is."
She scowled at me, but Charlie chuckled.
They continued to gossip about old school friends and catch up on each other's lives for a while. Not being particularly interested about who was sleeping with whom, my thoughts wandered back to our discussion of the Tournament.
Charlie's description of Harry's performance in the First Task had made me think of Sirius' latest letter. The letter had mostly contained a detailed blow-by-blow account of Harry's broom stunt, but there was a vaguely unsettled note to the letter in midst of his godfatherly pride, as if he, like me, had sensed that something odd, and most likely very unpleasant, was going on.
The Dark Mark at the Quidditch World Cup, the attack on Mad-Eye, Harry's entrance into the Tournament, the disappearance of Bertha Jorkins; these things had to add up to something, but we couldn't put our fingers on just what that something was.
The answer came to me in the form of a large, black dog around one in the morning in early June. I was happily asleep next to Ted when I was suddenly awakened by a very loud knock on the door.
Ted gave a particularly loud snore and rolled over. I waited a minute to see if the knock would repeat itself. It did.
Muttering to myself, I pulled on my robe and slippers and proceeded to shuffle downstairs and pull open the door only to see Remus Lupin standing there with a large, black dog at his side.
I blinked.
"Remus?" I was truly shocked; Remus hadn't been to my house since Dora was about eight years old, "what are you doing here?"
"Hello Andromeda. May I come in? It's urgent." He stepped inside without waiting for an answer. The black dog hesitated.
"Come on," he said irately to the dog. The dog hesitated for another second, and then padded over the threshold. Once the dog was inside, Remus closed the door and locked it. He looked around nervously and then ran to close the curtains.
"Remus, what—" before I could finish he shushed me. I didn't appreciate being shushed in my own home, but before I could tell him off, he addressed the dog a second time.
"Ok, I think it's safe."
The dog nodded, and within a few seconds, Sirius stood before me, as if it was perfectly normal for him to be standing in my living room at one in the morning after we hadn't seen each other in thirteen years.
I blinked, searching for something to say.
"Sirius," there was another pause; "you look like shit."
"Well, let's see what you look like after spending twelve years in Azkaban and two more on the run."
He looked me over, and pulled me into a tight one armed hug before I had fully comprehended his presence in my living room.
"You still look wonderful though," he said with a sad smile, and then, completely dropping whatever sentimentality he may have betrayed a minute ago, he became quite businesslike. "I suppose you're wondering what on earth we're doing here at this hour."
"Well, yes, I am, a bit."
Sirius was about to answer when his attention became fixed on the stairs behind me. I turned to see Dora standing there, blinking sleepily.
"What's going on?"
"Is that Dora?" Sirius asked me incredulously.
"Yes it is."
Sirius blinked, astonished. He had least seen her when she was eight years old, so I suppose it was a bit of a shock for him to see this 22 year-old standing in front of him. He looked her over.
"She got big."
"Well she is 22."
He blinked again; obviously slightly shocked by the fact that she was no longer eight years old.
I was suddenly seized with a mad urge to do a bit of maternal bragging; after all, what kind of mother would let an opportunity to brag about her kid pass her by?
"She's an Auror," I told him proudly, letting my aversion to her career fall to the wayside for the moment.
"An Auror?" He seemed quite interested by this piece of information and exchanged a meaningful look with Remus.
"Mum, what's going on?" Dora asked me once more in an agitated manner.
"I don't know Dora, Sirius here was about to tell me when you came downstairs."
We both looked at him. He seemed unsure of where to start, but finally took a deep breath and dove into the explanation.
"Well, I just came from Hogwarts."
"Yes," I prompted, "and…?"
"Well tonight was the night of the Third Task, you know, the last one of the Tournament."
"And?"
"And…Voldemort abducted Harry, and used him in his return to his body, Voldemort's back, Andy."
Dora and I stared at him, the silence of the room ringing in our ears.
"He's…"
"…Back, yes."
Dora, seeing the state of shock I was in, decided to take over. She stepped forward and directly addressed Sirius.
"What do you mean he's back?"
"He returned to his body," he repeated, "Harry saw it happen."
Dora and I stared at him blankly. Just then we heard a voice speak out from behind us.
"Sirius? Remus? Andy, what the hell's going on?" asked Ted incredulously.
I turned to see him standing on the first step, blinking in the same way Dora had when she came down. I buried my face in my palm and took a deep, steadying breath.
"Apparently Voldemort's back."
He walked over and stood behind me, putting his hands reassuringly on my shoulders.
"How—?"
"I don't know," I cut him off, "Sirius was about to explain."
We all stared at him attentively.
"Well, Andy, do you remember what I told you about Peter Pettigrew last year?"
I nodded in affirmation.
Once given this affirmation, Sirius launched into an exceedingly long, complicated explanation involving Romania, Bertha Jorkins, Barty Crouch (Jr. and Sr.), Polyjuice Potion, Alastor Moody, and the Triwizard Tournament.
"So," he finished up, "so the Triwizard Cup, which was a Portkey, remember, bought Harry and Cedric to the graveyard where Voldemort was waiting to use Harry in his rebirth ceremony. He murdered Cedric upon their arrival."
The three of us continued to stare at him in shocked disbelief.
"And you—" I began.
"I just came from Hogwarts, the hospital wing to be exact. I was there with Harry and he told me everything. Molly Weasley will be staying with him tonight."
"Is he ok?" asked Dora.
"He's alive," Sirius said simply.
"Who else knows? Cornelius—"
"Fudge chose not to accept that he's back. Dumbledore expects the rest of the Ministry to follow his lead."
"So who else knows that he's back?" Ted asked, his hands tightening slightly on my shoulders.
"Us, Molly, most of the Weasleys, Snape, McGonagall, Dumbledore, and the Death Eaters who managed to stay worm their ways out of Azkaban."
"So what are you—?"
Sirius spoke over me again. That was starting to get on my nerves.
"Dumbledore instructed me to go to Remus' place, and tell him what happened. Once I had done that, we were supposed to alert the old crowd of what happened and get the remains of the Order back together. You're my first stop."
He paused momentarily in his explanation upon seeing the incredulous look on my face.
"Don't worry Andy, I don't expect you to join; I just thought that you'd like to know, for obvious reasons," he told me with a smile. "We need to get going soon, though," he continued, "we have quite a few more stops to make. I do believe that Dedalus Diggle is next on the list."
He paused for a few seconds and considered Dora in a calculating manner which I wasn't sure that I liked.
"Unless," he said, addressing Dora this time, "unless you'd like to join, we could use some Aurors."
"No," I told him firmly, angry that he would even ask her.
Dora ignored me.
"The Ministry's completely ignoring his return?"
"Yes."
"And the only line of defense against him is the Order?"
"Yes," he said again.
She considered it for a moment, looking at him intently, her eyes slightly narrowed. She took a deep breath, and flashed him a bright smile.
"I'm in."
"WHAT?" I shrieked.
Dora and Remus jumped, Sirius winced, and I could feel Ted flinch from behind me.
"You are not under any circumstances joining the Order. I supported you when you decided to become an Auror, but I will not support this."
"Mum," she began placatingly.
"Oh no, don't you 'mum' me, and don't you say anything either," I snapped at Sirius, who had just opened his mouth, "you are not joining the Order. It's bad enough that you're an Auror, but joining the Order would be suicide, Dora."
The tolerating, annoyed expression that had inhabited her face when she had began her attempt to reason with me was slowly being replaced by anger as I continued on my tirade.
"Would you stop being so bloody paranoid?" she finally yelled. "I am so sick of the way you're constantly checking up on me and worrying after me and treating me like some kind moronic of five-year-old who can't wipe her own arse!"
"I am not being paranoid! Do you know what happens to Order of the Phoenix members? Do you? Do you remember what happened to Marlene? Do you recall what happened to Gideon and Fabian? Remember the Longbottoms; do you remember what happened to the Longbottoms, Dora? If you don't have the sense to realize how dangerous joining the Order would be on your own then I have every reason to treat you like a child."
"Just because they ended badly doesn't mean that I will."
I ignored her.
"And none of them had any attachments to Death Eaters. What the hell do you think is going to happen to you?-Bellatrix Lestrange's half-blooded Auror of a niece, do you think she'll invite you over to have a nice little catch-up session over tea and then let you skip on home? Honestly Dora, why don't you just trying giving this thirty seconds of thought?"
"Well, you know what mum? If you actually gave a damn about all those people then perhaps you'd be like the idea that I'll be continuing their fight. And you know what else? All that crap about Bellatrix, and infantilizing me and trying to shelter me from anything bad that could possibly happen, you know what you're doing mum? Do you? You're letting her win."
"How dare you?" I hissed, "how dare you even insinuate that I—"
"Andy, Dora, stop it," interrupted Ted in a calm, quiet voice which shut us both up immediately.
I knew I was going to lose. There was no way I could talk Dora out of this one, not with Sirius and Ted there (I'm sure Remus was on her side as well, but he knew better than to interject his opinion into the conversation). I was suddenly seized with a strong urge to give both Sirius and Ted good hard kicks, and I included Remus in that for good measure. But then, almost as soon as the urge had seized me, it disappeared, leaving me angry, and with a slight headache.
"Fine," I sighed, massaging my head, "fine. You're an adult; you can make your own choices. Do whatever the hell you want. I'm going back to bed."
Halfway up the stairs I turned back to them.
"Thanks for the news Sirius," I said impassionately, "I appreciate it."
I turned back around and continued upstairs.
About half an hour later I heard Ted come back in. He sat down on the bed next to me.
"Andy," he murmured in a would-be reassuring voice as he ran a gentle hand through my hair, and then started again, "Andy, everything will be alright."
I pretended to be asleep.
The next morning Dora and I didn't speak to each other, in fact, we didn't speak to each other properly for nearly a month.
After that night, I didn't really think about the Triwizard Tournament, or any of the champions, for weeks; I had no reason to. For a matter of fact, I didn't hear from or think about much of anyone; the wizarding world seemed to be frozen. It was as if we all knew that we were in the midst of a catastrophe, but few of us were ready to accept the reality of the situation.
About a month and a half after the events of that night, I was running errands in Diagon Alley.
It so happened that I had a stop to make at Gringotts, and to my surprise, I found Bill Weasley working behind the counter.
"Bill," I said happily, "fancy seeing you here."
He looked up and smiled.
"Hey Andy, yeah, I'm taking some time off from the tombs. You know, there are some things going on that need attending to."
He emphasized the word "things" and gave me a highly significant look while saying it.
"Is it going well?"
"It's going as well as can be expected, considering the circumstances," he replied cryptically, assuming that I'd know what he was talking about. I did.
I about to ask him some unimportant question—the kind you ask when you want to continue the conversation but don't have much to say—when an utterly gorgeous blonde woman came around behind the counter and handed Bill a cup of tea.
"Thanks Fleur," he said, flashing a brief, casual smile in her direction as he took a sip.
"Bien sur, Bill, ce n'est pas un problem," she replied with a dazzling smile and fluttering eyelashes as she watched him drink the tea.
Most men would have been drooling at that point, but Bill seemed relatively immune to the intended affects of the eyelash fluttering.
I watched this spectacle rather in a rather amused manner before I realized that there was something oddly familiar about her.
I considered her closely for a minute or two, and kept continued to do so even as she headed down the counter to assist a customer.
"I feel like I've seen her somewhere before," I murmured, trying to figure out where it was that I had seen her.
"Oh, she was the Beauxbatons champion in the Triwizard," he told me.
"Ah, well that explains it."
Bill and I exchanged a bit more, mostly meaningless, small talk. After telling him to send his mother my regards I left without giving Fleur a second thought.
Just the way it had been when I first encountered Remus and Bill, I had no way of knowing just how large a role Fleur would come to play in my life.