The week had passed as the Hogwarts' students acclimated to their new life at Beauxbatons. Harry quickly learned his schedule and found his classes to be much more challenging, given their assignment from Dumbledore. Though he had a natural magical aptitude to perform the spells that they were learning, delving into the core properties of this education did not come naturally to him. He resolved himself to become more studious and focused on their assignment, going as far as writing in a small, hardcover journal to remember his sporadic moments of insight.
Harry had meandered into the dining hall on the cool Saturday, excited to have a day free of courses. He took a seat in between Ginny and Hermione at the unofficial Hogwarts tables, and was surprised to see that their little group of students had expanded. He was used to eating his meals in relative privacy, with only Hermione and Ron. Now, his mealtime companions included most of the seventh-year students, congregated together to discuss their plans for the weekend. Although he was seated in the center of the grouping, it was really Ginny that had become the center of attention. He briefly watched her lead the discussion about the possibilities of a free weekend, engaging with everyone. He marveled at her natural charm, as she acted as the host of a grand party and not a Saturday breakfast. Just as the lutins had finished placing several trays of food in front of them, the morning post arrived in the talons of screeching owls.
Harry spotted Pig, Ron's tiny owl, struggling to flap its way towards them, with a package as large as its body. It finally made it to their table, collapsing in exhaustion in front of Ginny. The package was haphazardly wrapped in old Daily Prophet pages, and a note was scrawled over the Quidditch section: To Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. With love, Ron. When Ginny tore into it, they found themselves now in the possession of a collection of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes' candies, and a single note addressed to all of them.
Dear Ginny, Harry and Hermione,
I hope that this note finds you liking Beauxbatons and having fun. The Joke Shop has never been so busy; after the War, it seems that everyone is interested in a laugh. Even George is starting to laugh, seeing so many people happy over their creations. It will take time, but I think that he will eventually learn to live for Fred.
The rest of the family's well. Mum and Dad are glad that I stayed at Grimmauld Place. Mum loves having someone to dote over, and to not wallow in her sadness. It is hard for us, but I think me being here has helped strengthen them.
Have fun with these, but use the Puking Pastille for me on Draco Malfoy- it's the least that bloody git deserves. See you all soon.
Love, Ron.
The three of them all smiled, glad to hear that the Weasleys were hanging in there. It was also good to have a reminder that Ron was not out of their lives, and that he was still thinking about them, even if he chose not to join them at Beauxbatons. As Ginny opened the package to distribute its contents to the others at the table, Harry heard Hermione murmur Muffiato on the rest of the group.
"Harry, we need to talk. Meet you in the library after breakfast?" With Harry's nod, she broke the charm and took a large handful of the joke gifts. Harry was confused by this; though she had sometimes laughed at their results, Hermione was always quick to chide the use of these gags as childish. Perhaps she missed Ron more than he knew.
"Now for our plans today. Harry and I have started practicing Quidditch over the past few nights," Ginny lied to the group, as they had practically not flown at all during their 'practices', "we should all have some fun today and hold a scrimmage. What do you say? There are some old school brooms for you to use if you need one," she finished, counting the number of students that had raised their hands to agree to the scrimmage. "Then, it's settled. We'll meet in fifteen minutes after we get changed into something more appropriate." Following her finalization of the plans, most of the group stood and began to make its way to their dormitories to find something to wear for the Quidditch match. Michael and Ernie began to recruit members to their team, taking turns selecting others as unofficial captains, as they had played on their House teams.
Spotting that Harry had hung back at the table, Ginny approached him. "Harry, darling, why didn't you raise your hand to play? I know that we haven't been really practicing," she giggled at the admission, "but we do eventually need to. Come on, let's get going," she pressed both hands into the crook of his elbow, attempting to drag him off in the direction of the dorms. Unwilling to be carted off, Harry stood firmly in place. Though Ginny was naturally athletic, his tall frame was too strong for her to carry to the dorms.
"I can't go today, Ginny. I told Hermione that I'd meet her in the library-something about our private lessons, you understand?" Harry hoped that this fib would not be noticed; after all, he assumed that they would discuss the lessons.
"Don't lie to me! If it were about those lessons, Ernie and Michael wouldn't have agreed to play," she huffed. "But fine, go ahead and have your little meeting with Hermione, I'll be playing Quidditch. Come after, I guess," she said icily, before storming off to catch up with the rest of the players. Harry sighed inwardly, knowing full-well that Ginny would hold this against him as ammunition for their next fight. The year apart from Harry had only made Ginny fiercer in protecting their relationship. Though Harry was glad she cared about him so much, the barbs she used during their quarrels stung harder than they had in their brief spats the first months they dated before the war.
Committed now to spending the day with Hermione, he walked alone to the library, pondering what was so pressing that a meeting was needed. It was really too early to begin training, as they had not yet started to cast any new spells. He did know that if there was a book on the old ways in the Beauxbatons' library, there would be no one better to find it. The library at Beauxbatons was much larger and tidy than at Hogwarts. A two-story room with raging fireplaces on each floor, the library's sections were separated by tables large enough for four to comfortably sit at. As he entered, he immediately spotted the familiar image of Hermione's bushy hair just barely visible over a large stack of books. He should have expected this: the sight was synonymous with any time he had spent in the library. As he approached, he noticed that she was not reading a book on spells or their coursework, but rather studying a gaudily-gilded tome about Greek mythology.
"Oh, Harry! I didn't hear you come in, thank you for meeting me. You really didn't learn anything from dating Cho, did you? Don't you remember- you're supposed to apologize for the sheer inconvenience of my friendship and bemoan having to spend time with me," she lectured him, half-seriously, having watched Ginny grow upset with him in the dining hall.
"Oh yes, of course. I forgot to tell her how much I hate you, won't happen again," he replied cheekily, "now, tell me why we had to meet in secrecy in the library on a beautiful day like this."
"Dumbledore's lecture had me thinking-if it is the case that the most powerful wizards and witches throughout history used the old ways to gain their prodigious power, maybe Greek mythology isn't the fantasy that we thought. It could be that the magic that they used was simply lost to time, making it seem like fiction. Though I don't have a firm grasp on this way of using magic yet, the study of these characters in history should be invaluable to adding new spells to our minds…But, more to the point, I invited the Thicketts to come and study with us like we had talked about. They seem bright, and we can learn a lot more about them here than we ever could in a class. Let's see how they are before we become suspicious of them," revealing her true motives for the meeting.
"Brilliant idea twice over. When are they coming?" Harry asked.
"They should be here, right about-", as if on cue, Ben and Emma Thickett strolled into the room. "Er, hi, Harry, Hermione, what's up?" Emma asked anxiously. Though Harry and Hermione had been pleasant with the two, they had never had a proper conversation past the first night. It was reasonable for the two to be unsure why they were summoned. Unlike Emma, Ben stared at the two with a none-too subtle look of skepticism.
"Hi you two, thank you so much for coming," Hermione led the initial ice-breakers, "Harry and I just wanted to get some studying in for the classes with Professor McGonagall. The others from Hogwarts simply don't understand our desire for knowledge, they just don't get all of the things that we went through…" Hermione said, leaving bait for the two to engage and ask about their adventures during the war. Though Harry was impressed with Hermione's deft skill in gaining the siblings' trust, he wished that they could have avoided the still-raw topic of the war. "We thought we'd ask you to come and see if you were interested."
"All right sure, I know that I'd be interested. I can't really believe what that man was talking about. We learned about him, of course, for his defeating Grindewald, but it's hard not to think he's off his rocker," Ben replied. Emma agreed with her brother, "Yeah, studying with you two sounds like it could be educational. But…why us? And um, can you tell us…tell us about yourselves? You two have lived such an adventurous life, I think we both want to know more about you."
"Well, I can't speak for Harry, but I know that I have troubles making real friends with people our age. We hardly know anything about you, but your skills during the aptitude test were very impressive. I thought that we could get to know you…if you tell us about yourselves, I think I can convince Harry, and we'll tell you about us." Harry looked at the woman standing next to him, the girl that he met when he was eleven years-old. She was now far removed from that isolated bookworm, and Harry could not help but admire her for the grace that she was showing. Perhaps a job in the Ministry would really be a good fit, if this was any indication of her political savvy.
This convinced the siblings to have a seat, and the four began to talk in earnest. "So, how did you two meet? Were you always best friends like this?" Emma led off, as if she were a reporter writing their biography.
Harry laughed at the memory of his first encounter with Hermione. "Well, I was on the train headed to Hogwarts with our friend Ron, when he tried to show me some magic. Immediately, this young know-it-all comes over and tells him off for using a fake spell. She had already read all about magic, and here I was, a bloke who thought that 'turn this fat rat yellow' was going to work. We were friends since," Harry said, glossing over the fact that it had taken until Halloween to really get to know her.
"Well, Harry, sorry but you're wrong. I of course knew all about him and his fame, more than even he did. When I met him, I was so disappointed with this great hero I had read about, in front of me was really this scrawny little boy with broken glasses. It took a while for me to like him; when he saved me from a troll in our first-year, I then knew that there really was a hero somewhere hidden in there," she corrected him, before flashing him an insolent smile. They had never talked about the origins of their friendship. Though Harry was miffed that he had made such a poor first impression, he could not help but smile back at the back-handed compliment.
"Wait, so you're saying that Harry didn't even know he was famous? Even we learned about Harry before we were starting school," Emma asked.
Harry nodded to confirm this, "Yeah, I was raised by my Muggle family, who never even told me about magic…it was a huge surprise when the owls flooded me with letters about Hogwarts, and even more of a surprise to find out that I defeated the most-feared wizard when I was still in diapers." Anger towards the Dursleys swelled into a corner of Harry's mind. Even after all this time, the emotional damage of ten years of being their outcast had not gone completely
"For someone so unaware of his history, Harry definitely proved himself time and time again. Did you ever read that Harry defeated Voldemort again in our first-year?" Hermione continued to push the conversation forward in an attempt to further gain the Thicketts' trust. Harry's long history at Hogwarts was expanded upon, with the two taking turns to relay all of the highlights of their adventures at school. As Hermione discussed the battle at the Department of Mysteries, Harry watched the siblings in greater detail. The short time together revealed the basic facets of the two's personalities. Emma was quite exhaustingly inquisitive, and did not hesitate to jump in, asking for clarification about the smallest detail. Ben seemed much more reserved; equally engaged in listening, he asked periodic, in-depth questions more to the point of understanding the evil, not the two's triumphs. Harry was particularly alarmed by his focus on the possession of Harry's body, when Voldemort had taunted Professor Dumbledore into killing him.
Their storytelling concluded when Harry talked about the night of Professor Dumbledore's death. He found that this part of the story was still far too fresh in his mind, and chose to omit the time spent in the cave. When he tried to describe the events on top of the Astronomy Tower, his throat tightened, unwilling to continue to relive that night. Even after swallowing hard, his last few words were hoarse and the thoughts incoherent. Grasping Harry's hand for support, Hermione decided it was now time for the Thicketts to tell their story. "Enough about us, you have read about the last bit of it in the newspapers. Why don't you tell us about what brought you to Beauxbatons?"
Emma and Ben looked at one another, as if unsure where to begin. "I am so sorry for your losses, Harry, Hermione, I had no idea it was that bad…" Emma said with genuine empathy.
"Yeah, me neither, I'm sorry. You sure had it rough-like we did," Ben echoed with a surprising level of concern in his voice. "But well, for us, you have to understand a couple of things about our family. Have you ever heard of the Thule Society?" Harry shook his head, while Hermione attempted to access the information held somewhere in the back of her mind, biting her bottom lip ever so slightly, "No, that's normal, not many outside of Germany have. Well, the Thule Society was formed by a group of wizards to promote a bastardized version of Pure-Blood supremacy and rallied around Grindewald during the war, somewhat like the Death Eaters in England. Grindewald was only their leader; when he had lost, the Thule Society remained as prevalent as ever, lurking in the shadows and influencing the German Ministry in private."
Ben persisted, "Our father was a high-ranking member of the German Office of Magical Law Enforcement and in charge of the task force dedicated to eradicating the cabal. He soon learned more about the group than they were comfortable with, and they attacked our family when we were seven. Thankfully, none of us were hurt, but we were forced to go into hiding in America."
Emma picked up where he ended, "While in America, our father was constantly looking over his shoulder, afraid that the attacks would continue. One night, his fears were proven true, and a squad from the Society attacked once again-they…"
Ben tightly held his sister, as she softly started to cry into his shoulder. "Our mother died in the attack, you see. Since then, we have constantly moved around from school to school, place to place, never letting our roots grow. Here we are now at Beauxbatons, for the time being at least."
"That's why we were so interested in meeting you, Harry," he confessed. "There you were, our age and killing off the head of the group in England, while we were on the run from it in Germany. And the attacks are the reason we focused so heavily on dueling, so that no one else would have to be killed."
An immense feeling of guilt washed over Harry. Here he was, so quick to judge and so afraid to trust. In reality, the Thicketts' story was hauntingly close to what his could have been. It was not interest in learning the Dark Arts that Harry had seen in Ben's questions minutes ago; it was his desire to protect his family from the same evil. He watched the two ineptly, hoping that Hermione would be better equipped in dealing with their emotional duress. As he looked over at her, he only saw the brightness drained from her face, replaced with sympathy. Seeing that she was as confounded as he was, Harry resolved himself to make it better. Sensing that words alone would not be enough, Harry pulled the two siblings into an awkward hug from across the table. He hoped that this action would show his empathy and emotions better than any ill-prepared statement. Hermione joined moments later, and the four remained in a cathartic silence, gripping each other for support.
As they broke apart, Harry eyed Hermione reaching into her front jean pockets, pulling out several of the candies that Ron had sent them earlier. As she unwrapped one of the Canary Creams, she rose her eyebrows at Harry, willing him to follow her lead. When she offered him the treat, he understood: Hermione wanted to give the two a laugh. Biting into the cream-filled biscuit, Harry's felt the all-too unpleasant groans of Transfiguration in his bones as feather-covered wings began to sprout. He flapped around the room foolishly, chirping at their new friends. Emma gave a soft giggle, wiping the tears out of her eyes while Ben cracked a large smile. As Harry's feathers began to moult, it was clear to Harry that Hermione's plan had worked and broke the emotional tension left hanging at the table.
The siblings were amazed by the inventiveness of the Weasley products, and eagerly ate some for themselves. As Ben tried in vain to will his enlarged tongue to move after the Ton-Tongue Toffee to try and get a laugh out, Harry peered outside to see that it was well into the afternoon. Though he was startled at the amount of time that had passed getting to know the two siblings, Harry was happy that he was able to make friends with other kids his age, free from the haunting realities of being in a war. The mirth of the moment quickly fell away as he realized that Ginny would be at the Quidditch pitch, resenting her boyfriend's time away from her and biding her time for their next fight. Groaning at that particular reality, Harry excused himself from the library table, promising to make an actual study session between the four a regular occurrence. As he walked out of the library, he could feel Hermione's gaze boring into his back. Though he was unsure if it was due to him leaving the study session, or their fledgling friend group, he momentarily felt a pang of desire to go back and not worry about his pressing social concern of maintaining his relationship. Shrugging it off, Harry exited the library and began to hurriedly walk to the main exit of Beauxbatons.
As Harry walked down the hall, his strides separated his patterns in his thoughts. One by one, he felt his focus shift from devoting all of his time and energy to learning the intricacies of magic and the old ways, to his more elementary desire to live a normal life of a teenager spent in the presence of his girlfriend and his peers. The two were of course at odds; Harry knew that to spend time on one would mean to forgo time with the other. As the battle between his desires continued to roar inside of his mind, Harry barely noticed an obstacle in his path. As he shook his head, he looked with some horror at the obstacle. In his rush, Harry had knocked over a young Beauxbatons' girl when she had walked in his way. Apologizing profusely, he offered her a hand up. He was surprised when she started to angrily lecture him in French, pushing herself up from the ground to continue the verbal attack while she stood as high and fiercely as possible. Though the top of her head could hardly brush against Harry's chest, the effect of her unbridled rage made him feel like a small boy being lectured by a teacher. Although he continued to apologize, this only seemed to further enrage the girl and her assault continued.
The young girl continued to yell at Harry as a group of other Beauxbatons' students formed to look at the spectacle. He saw that some of them were sniggering at the sight; he could only imagine the look of horror painted on his face. Finally, another girl from Beauxbatons stepped forward to soothe the girl. He blinked quickly as if to put her into focus. It was Gabrielle Delacour, as young and frighteningly beautiful as ever. Though she was only twelve, Harry knew that she would one day be as pretty and powerful as her older sister. Gabrielle began to derisively mutter to the girl in French, and after a few moments, the girl's yelling sputtered to a stop. The young girl went as far as bowing at Harry before scurrying off to join the rest of the gathered group, leaving Harry and Gabrielle a modicum of privacy.
"Oh 'Arry, what 'appened? Why was zat girl yelling at you so? She seemed quite mad, though she didn't know you were ze great 'Arry Potter," Gabrielle asked.
"Thanks Gabrielle," Harry smiled at the young French girl, "I dunno, I was walking and bumped into her. I didn't mean to upset her like that, she just seemed to overreact."
"Yes, some of ze students at Beauxbatons feel like the 'Ogwarts students 'ave no manners; ze younger boys of yours do not seem to understand 'ow to talk to girls, you see. I am sorry that she was less zan a gracious 'ost to you," Gabrielle explained.
"Well, I'm sorry about the boys, I'll talk to someone about it. Do you play Quidditch? We're having a practice right now, maybe you'd want to come?" Harry offered. Though he did not really know Gabrielle personally, he felt that he should become friends with her, if only for respect for her sister.
"Oh yes, I would love zat! Let's go, I'll show you ze shortcuts to ze gardens."
Harry and Gabrielle walked along unfamiliar halls in Beauxbatons, while Gabrielle enthusiastically told Harry about the events in her life. She seemed happy to blabber away about her classes with the second year Hogwarts students, as Harry smiled and feigned polite interest. She was nothing if not animated; Harry briefly wondered if this liveliness was the quarter-Veela inside of her, trying to draw him in. Smiling at how ridiculous that sounded inside of his head, the two happened upon the Quidditch pitch. The two looked up into the bright sky, and Harry quickly spotted Ginny triumphantly shooting the Quaffle past Ernie playing as Keeper. Clapping at the shot by his girlfriend, Harry was soon spotted by the red-head. She swooped down on her broom, carefully eyeing Gabrielle next to him. As she walked towards them, Harry noticed her ears turning ever redder, as if they would incinerate anything they might come into contact with.
"I'm busy Harry, go away," she whispered waspishly, "don't bother to see me for the rest of the day."
As Ginny soared once again on her broom, Harry could not help but to stare incredulously at her. He had given up his time in the library to spend with her, why would she scorn him now, he wondered. Gabrielle looked equally perplexed for a moment, before taking Harry's arm and dragging him back into the building.
"Oh 'Arry, don't worry, it is no good to be 'ere. Fleur has told me all about zis sister-in-law of mine. She is dingue as we say; too passionate and crazy about everything. Fleur always wondered what you see in Ginny…always telling me zat it is 'Ermione who you should love…I'll take you back to your dorms if you'd like." With that, Gabrielle and Harry walked backed into the school, each enveloped in their thoughts for very different reasons.