Chapter 6
She realized that something was different. She wasn't sure what, her eyes weren't even open yet, but something in the room just felt, off. "Miss Fleur," with a silent groan, she opened her eyes and saw Him standing at the foot of her bed. Seven being there didn't surprise her. Sadly, she had found herself getting used to his presence in her life. The fact that Fleur couldn't go anywhere for privacy unless she ordered him away, and even then, that was difficult, had made that abundantly clear.
He was again, dressed, but seemed more relaxed. A perfect white shirt, untucked, and she could see the black undershirt through the white cloth. Again, black pants, but it was surprising to see him barefoot. Fleur was sure that if she looked hard enough, she would find scars on his feet as well. She could also smell the cologne he wore clearly. She found herself hating her mother for it. The spiciness of it made Fleur want to look at him, which certainly wasn't helping her try to ignore him.
"Good morning," she didn't even realize she had said it until the words had left her mouth. He just bowed his head in acknowledgement and that was when she saw it. Floating gently beside her bed was something she rarely indulged in, but enjoyed every single time. Fresh bread, she could still see the steam rising from the slices, and the aroma made her stomach groan. Seeing that, along with several different jams, and what looked like freshly whipped chocolate mousse made her mouth start to water. The fresh red strawberries and oranges so ripe that they wept juice from the slices was also tantalizing. The fact that she could also see a glass of, oh yes, pineapple juice and a pot of something else sitting next to a delicate ceramic cup was also very inviting. It was the flower that caught her attention though.
It was a single apple blossom, sitting in a glass vase as narrow as her smallest finger. She recalled the lessons her father had insisted she take, saying that he wanted his little girl to have knowledge of things of beauty and substance. The heart's pleasure and delights, that was what her teacher would have called it. What this could mean was any number of things, for the moment though, she was willing to simply think that he thought it looked nice and she would enjoy it.
"What is all of this? For that matter, where did you get it?" He had his wand in his hand, and when she was fully sitting up, floated the tray onto her lap.
"I was…exploring the carriage and found several house elves who were more than willing to assist me with preparing a meal for you." She noticed then that he seemed, different. It was as if he wasn't sure if what he did was proper or not. In some ways, she supposed he had overstepped the boundaries she put in place. She was a proper woman who could take care of herself. She didn't he an attractive man serving her breakfast in bed. No, not attractive.
"I see," she tried to ignore him as she spooned a generous amount of mousse onto the bread, but couldn't stop the moan of appreciation when she bit into it. She found herself stuffing the rest of it into her mouth while picking up the knife to prepare another slice. Sure, it was not exactly ladylike, but it wasn't like anyone could see her. Anyone important anyway.
"I thought you might want to explore the grounds today, preferably without my company." Fleur froze bringing the second slice to her mouth. Seven, the man who would only give her privacy in her bathroom, if the door was locked, was willing to let her go somewhere by herself?
"Why?"
"I understand that what I did yesterday was unreasonable, both the shirt and interfering with you trying to enter the tournament." He lowered himself to his knees then and bowed his head to the carpet. She could see he looked almost resigned, as if awaiting punishment. "You wished for no one to know about me, and in my carelessness, you had to compromise yourself. You also wished to enter, and I tried to stop you." His head rose, and those eyes almost seemed to plead with her for something, even though his face was blank. "I want to make you happy today, and I will also accept any punishment you have for causing you discomfort."
She looked down at her breakfast and reached for one of the fruit slices. He wanted her to be happy, and he also wanted her to punish him, what?
"Seven," she placed the tray beside her, intent on finishing it, before she rose and stood in front of him. As she walked around the bed, Fleur couldn't help but notice those eyes following her movements. If it was anyone else, she would have said they were leering with the intensity he was watching her, but it wasn't. He was just so focused on her, it felt good to hold a man's attention without them drooling at her. Not that she would ever admit it out loud, of course.
"Why should I punish you?" Those eyes widened for a moment before they went blank again. Fleur found herself enjoying this, surprising him. He did it to her often enough, time for him to feel the shock of the unexpected.
"I disobeyed you," she could see it then, he was shaking, ever so slightly, in fact, each time she blinked, she couldn't see him move. But the longer she stared, the more she could see it.
"How about this," why she was making this suggestion, she did not know, perhaps she was still half asleep? That had to be it. "You do not come to me until I call for you today," Fleur watched his eyes widen, and could see he was about to interrupt. "IF I am in danger or in need of you, you may come, but otherwise, you act like a normal housecat. You wander around the grounds, chase birds, and lay in the sunshine. Does that sound fair?"
"No, its not fair." He stood up, and she couldn't help but feel small around him. The shirt did nothing to hide the strength in his arms and chest, if anything, it emphasized it. It also slightly bothered her to have to look up at him. "I still need to be punished for disobeying you."
He's worse than a house elf. "Fine, how about you send me the photos." She crossed over to her make up table where the pictures sat. They needed to be sent somehow to her. He was the one who wronged her, he could try and make up for it by giving them to her, publicly.
He took them from her, and his eyes dropped to the one on top. She couldn't help but blush at that one. It had taken some serious charms to work, but she was able to recreate a beach that she had visited in Italy. They were standing close, him bare chested with both arms wrapped around her from behind, and her in her newest swimsuit. However, if Fleur was honest with herself, the term "swimsuit" was used liberally. If anything, the dainty two piece could easily be confused with something not meant to be seen outside one's bedroom. Staring, she found herself getting flustered just remembering how nice it felt to be held, even if it was just an act.
He nodded and stepped back from her, and she was grateful he had created the space. Between the heat he gave off, and his rather appealing scent, her body kept betraying her. "Will there be anything else then Miss Fleur?" Again, she couldn't help but find herself enjoying the attention he gave her.
"No, you may go. Remember, you are a housecat unless I need you." His only response was to gently tap his crown with his wand, and she watched him fade into the background, disappearing. The only sign he had left her room was when the door opened slowly and was gently closed. She turned back to the breakfast tray and angrily stabbed at a strawberry. So he could do a disillusionment charm of a better quality than her. That didn't mean a damn thing.
Fleur refused to be ashamed of herself for quickly demolishing the tray. While in public, manners were extremely important, in private and around family, there was nothing wrong with enjoying your food as loudly and obscenely as one desired. When she entered her bathroom, she again noticed he had prepared the bath, but as she to the sink, she saw it. A single drop of red sat on the edge of the sink's basin. It was a puzzle, because for as long as she'd been around him, Fleur had never once seen Seven cut himself while shaving. It was just another mystery to him, that's all. As the warm water soothed her muscles, Fleur found herself again thinking about the photos, how would they be delivered? After all, it wasn't like he would just drop them off in front of her. She could help but feel a shudder run down her spine then. Suddenly, Fleur was regretting asking him to send her them to her.
It was almost ten o'clock, a late hour for Fleur, when she finally left her room, and true to his word, he wasn't anywhere she could see him. Truth be told, she expected to find him sitting outside her door. But, when she finally made it to the common room of the carriage, she had seen no sign of him. Felina was waiting for her when she arrived, but that wasn't a surprise. One of the requirements for her independent study was to assist with their transport's care, which usually meant she was already wide awake well before the sun was up. Claire though, the girl appreciated her days off, often sleeping until noon or later if she could get away with it. "So, do you want to wait for sleeping beauty, or do you just want to let her find us?"
Felina just shook her head at the old joke, but rose and turned to exit the room. "I vote that we get some exploring in before the selection tonight." She was already opening the carriage door when she turned and stared at Fleur. "Are you all right?"
"Of course, why?" She had checked herself over in the mirror before leaving the room. She refused to believe that she found herself missing Seven's assistance in the mornings, but still, she never really realized how much time he saved her in the long run getting ready.
"Your face is rosy," inwardly, Fleur cringed at her friend's face becoming a grin. "Good dreams?"
"I want to see where the horses are being kept." She pushed past Felina and into the crisp air, drawn to the scent of fresh hay and animal. The cackle that followed behind her didn't exactly calm her nerves.
They had left the animals after only a few minutes, Felina had explained that the teams were really docile after traveling great distances, and again the only concern that she and Professor Tsiampas had was for the lead stallion. Earlier that morning when they had gone to check on them, they were met by the man from last night, Hagrid, who was worried about Atlas. Apparently, when he brought the whiskey that morning, while the stallion was drinking, he noticed dried blood around his nostrils.
"The professor thinks it might be time to replace him when we return with fresher stock." They were walking towards the school, and Fleur couldn't help but look around. Yes, the weather was harsher than France, but she couldn't deny there was a certain beauty to the area, with the large, ink black lake, and heavily grown forest.
"What would they do with him then, I thought you said he had been at the school for decades?"
"Oh, they won't get rid of him, they'll most likely just move him into the preserves and use him for breeding stock." They were passing a tree when she saw him, true to his word, he was acting just like a cat, and she found it disgusting. "Hello Pain, what did you bring us?"
It was a small robin, still slightly alive. She could see the fang marks on its back, probably broken. When she raised an eyebrow, he picked it up in his mouth and carried it closer to her. When he was maybe a foot away, he dropped it in front of her and started to weave his way between her legs, mewling softly. "I don't want this." She stared down at him, almost wishing she could fling him into the lake. Why did he do this, what possessed him to catch a bird and bring it to her? Disgusting.
"Fleur, be nice, it's a present," she felt her jaw drop slightly as Felina bent over, grabbing the dying animal and pocketing it. "Thank you Pain," now she raised the other eyebrow as the animal rubbed his face, HIS FACE, against her shin before walking away.
"What in God's name possessed you to pick that disgusting creature up, much less thank him for it?" Felina only laughed as she walked back to the carriage. Fleur sped up slightly, annoyed that a lot of people seemed to be withholding information from her lately.
"You've obviously never owned a cat before," she had stopped and pulled the bird from her pocket. Up close it was even more pathetic, it was missing large chunks of its feathers and appeared almost skeletal. The poor creature couldn't have much strength to continue living. She watched as Felina cooed softly to it, holding it securely in her grip before twisting her hands violently, the bird only trembled for a moment afterwards. She then drew her wand and transfigured the creature into a stick before throwing it away.
"Why did you have to kill it, and what does my never owning a cat have to do with anything?" Fleur had already pulled her wand and had conjured a small stream of water for the girl to wash her hands.
"I killed it because its back was broken and the poor thing was dying anyway. It didn't deserve to suffer." Hands clean and body disposed of, they continued to walk back. "When I first got Azure, she would bring me dead and dying mice all the time. I finally decided to figure out why. Cats look at us as equals, while dogs view humans as their masters. Azure watched me all the time, she never saw me cleaning myself, or catching food to eat. Essentially, when she would bring me dying animals or start licking my arms, it was her being a mother. To her, since I wasn't taking care of myself, she would do it for me, whether I wanted her to or not."
Fleur stopped then, that son of a bitch, she told him not to hover around her, and he uses this shape as an excuse to check on her. If she didn't want to punish him before, now she definitely did. "So, you're saying that Pain is-,"
"Going to keep trying to 'feed' you and 'bathe' you? Probably. Azure doesn't bring me animals anymore, but she still licks me whenever she gets the chance." They were back at the carriage when Felina turned to her. "Hasn't Pain ever used his tongue on you?"
Fleur's mind automatically went to what had greeted her the first morning at home after her vacation. The well-built man, sans clothes, standing in front of her, over her, dripping wet. Now, thanks to Felina, she couldn't help but think of him now, perhaps kneeling before her, again, sans clothes, licking. Get a hold of yourself, don't you dare blush! "Not if he wants to keep his tongue where it is. Come on, we've got to get Caroline, if we don't, she'll probably try to sleep until dinner."
Seven had watched until they had entered the carriage before turning away. He had hated the orders from the start. Stay away and only come when she called, how could he perform his duties properly if he wasn't there to attend her? This form had provided the answer. The animal in him noticed that Fleur wasn't catching food, that she was simply relying on him to keep her fed and clean. It had drawn him to the small creature and caught it, he had wanted to finish it, but the animal had fought against him. In many ways, its logic matched that of his instructors. How could she learn to kill and care for herself if he never allowed her to?
To Seven, the answer was simple, she didn't need to learn, that was what he was for. If she wanted him to torture, maim, kill or destroy, it would be his honor. The only thing his Fleur needed to do was tell him to. Still though, he had used that desire so that he could see she was safe. Through the bond, he could feel her even now. She was confused and angry at the moment, and for the slightest moment, he felt something else. He wasn't sure what, but it felt like, like need. Need of him, he was sure, yet he also felt her desire for him to stay away. In many ways she was confusing, but perhaps he just didn't completely understand her yet. Yes, that had to be it.
Changing back into the person he was, he withdrew the photos from his suit jacket. Again, his eyes fell to the one of him holding her tight. The feeling of 'Right' was stronger now, and he felt himself tremble. It was like he was still in her presence, the way she and her mother, their "Pull", made him feel. But it was more than that, he was sure. What that more was, he didn't know, but he would figure it out. For now, he had to deliver the photos to Fleur, she had ordered it, and he would be successful. He even had a plan for how to accomplish this mission, he just needed a floo.
"Jonathan, I need you to bring up more butterbeer while you're down there."
"No problem Rosie." Rosmerta "Rosie" Christie considered herself to be the epitome of an independent woman. When she was a fresh graduate from Hogwarts, she was determined to make a name for herself. Many of the girls she attended with already had their lives planned out to, in their minds, perfection. The oldest Black sister, the one that society still counted anyway, the Parkinson twins, even good ole Selena Trelawney now Lovegood, may she rest in peace, had their plans. Get married, and start popping out kids.
Sure, that might seem fulfilling to some, but she wanted more. Her family was renowned for their brewing abilities, even giving the Ogdens competition for buyers. When she had found the previous owner of the Three Broomsticks was selling, she couldn't believe it. In fact, she had taken what little money she had, literally bled getting a loan from Gringotts, and purchased the rundown inn. Using what her family had made their money in, she was able to open in time for the fall semester that same year, and had paid her loan off by the time the school broke for winter holidays.
Since that day, she had strived to be independent, when bigger businesses tried to move in, or attempt to get her to partner with them, she just laughed and watched them go. She had stayed strong through thick and thin. When You-Know-Who was making regular raids, she stayed open and didn't hesitate to curse any of his bootlickers that graced her front step. When the dementors roamed the streets outside, she extended her regular hours, knowing that her patrons would need a place to relax away from those creatures. Yes, she would weather any storm that came through, and she didn't need anyone, besides her employees, to help her do so.
Looking around now, she couldn't help but smile at the faces. Many people would think that seeing the half grown children of people who you attended school with would make you feel old, but Rosmerta enjoyed it. This year, with the tournament and the two other schools arriving, this was going to be her best year ever.
"A butterbeer and a gillywater please," she couldn't help but smile at the youngest Weasley boy. A truer Gyriffindor if there ever was one. Everyone knew what had happened to the boy. It was almost five years ago, when he had fought a mountain troll to protect the girl he was visiting with. Hermione Granger, that was it. It was rather brilliant how he even did it. A simple levitation charm, and he managed to club the creature over the head its own weapon. However, he couldn't dodge the creature's fall. Magic could do many things, but it couldn't fix everything. The leg came off and the prosthetic went on. He and the girl had been inseparable ever since.
"Sure thing love," inwardly she cackled at the blush she caused. It certainly was fun when you could make a boy blush, especially when you remember watching their mother and father being knobby-kneed first years. Finished pouring, she passed him the drinks, and may have leaned over the bar a little too far, allowing the boy a peak of cleavage. "Have fun love," cheeks light pink to darkest maroon, mission accomplished. She watched as he walked back over to the girl he was with, the limp barely showing.
She heard the door open and turned, a greeting ready when she saw him. He was tall, too tall to be one of the students, but the lack of Hogwarts robes made that painfully obvious. The suit made it clear that he was probably one of the visiting schools' professors. A perfect black suit that was expertly fitted to his body. His chest and shoulders were wide, and she couldn't help but think the powder blue tie just seemed to make everything come together for him.
She didn't normally like the shaved head look on men. She felt it was unnecessary, unappealing even, but it seemed to fit him perfectly. She watched as he stared around the room until his eyes found hers. She could feel her face start to warm when she found herself staring at the greenest eyes she had ever seen. In fact, they woke a memory of an old friend, a young Lilly Evans who would often spend time just quietly sitting at a booth with a cup of cocoa and a book.
She had to resist the urge to do something, anything, when he started to walk towards her. She was probably old enough to be his mother, and he was making her want to giggle like a third year being asked to town by a boy she liked. When he was in front of her, too soon for her liking, she found herself having to look up at him. "Welcome to the Three Broomsticks. I'm the owner, Madam Rosmerta, can I get you anything love?"
She found herself disappointed by the lack of blush. All she could see on his face was curiosity, and scars. Must be a brawler, she could even make out a Heidelberg scar across his right cheek, faded but visible.
"I was wondering," she found herself liking the tone of his voice, it was soft, but not weak. There was power restrained in his voice. A man's voice. She had to resist the urge to lean closer. "If there was a floo I could use?"
She hid her disappointment at that, but, he wanted to leave and who was she to try and stop him. "Of course," she pointed over his shoulder towards the center of the room, surrounded by several noisy tables, but far enough away to not impede traffic, the perfect location for new arrivals.
"I was actually hoping," he leaned in close to her, and she couldn't help but enjoy his scent. Spicy, she had smelt it before, but couldn't place it. "If there was a place more private. I have to make a call and would prefer not to be overheard."
Why yes, there is. My room for example… "Of course," She pointed to a door near the back. "Right through there, the powder is on the mantle."
"Thank you," she wasn't ready when he raised her hand to his lips. At that point, she didn't bother trying to stop the giggle or blush, he earned it.
"Your welcome Mr.?"
"Douleur," he was cutting his way through the students, heading for the room.
"Mr. Douleur then."
"No ma'am," he paused with his hand on the door. Again his voice was quiet, but even over the noise of the room, she could hear him clearly. "Just Douleur."
Females were strange, he decided. Even after all he had been through with the Goddess, Miss Fleur and her Mother, he still didn't understand how their minds worked. He understood the woman just now had enjoyed his company, but why did she desire his name? He didn't wish to give her one, so he lied, but she still seemed to want to know more. Enough about that, he still had to accomplish what he set out to do.
"House of Delacour." The flames turned green and he stuck his head through, by luck she was there, his Mistress. "Mistress," she appeared surprised that he was there, but not terribly so.
"Seven, is everything all right?" He watched as she tried to hide her anxiety, but was failing in his eyes.
"Yes, Fleur is safe, but I need your assistance." As he explained the situation and his task, Seven watched as her eyes went wide, and a smile filled her face. By the time he had finished, her shoulders were shaking, and the smile had morphed into a full grin.
"You were right to come to me, pass me the pictures." Appoline had to fight down her laughter as he told her what he wished to do. Even though he wasn't trying to be, Seven was wicked, it would be a wonderful little, 'surprise' for Fleur. "Give me just a moment Seven, your plan is sound, but I would like to add my own influence to it." Yes, this would be perfect, and it would only serve to infuriate her daughter. It was wonderfully, devious plan.
She was still laughing quietly when she returned to the fireplace with a sealed envelope and a proud looking owl on her arm. "Archimedes will be more than happy to assist you with this task, won't you?" He watched as the bird seemed to glare at him, before turning its head to his Mistress. It gave a soft bark before rubbing its face against hers and held still as she passed him through. "Let me know what her reaction is won't you Seven?"
"Of course Mistress." He turned to go when she stopped him.
"Seven," she seemed to hesitate, but eventually spoke. "How are you, how are you around my daughter?"
He didn't pause to answer, and he wouldn't lie anyway. She was his Mistress, just like Miss Fleur, he would always be truthful. "Confused." Her quiet laughter grew loud again before she allowed the flames to die out.
After securing the envelope to the glaring owl, Seven walked over to the window and opened it. "Take this directly to Miss Fleur. Let nothing stop you and let no one take it. If anyone tries, destroy them and complete your task." He watched as the bird's eyes hardened, as if it was insulted that he thought it would do anything but that. After a moment, it gave his arm a hard squeeze with its talons before diving out the window and soaring into the sky.
"All finished love?" She wasn't watching the door because she wanted to see him. No, she just wanted to make sure he didn't need anything while he was in the room. At least, that was what she kept telling herself.
"Yes, thank you." He was already moving to leave, and she couldn't help but want him to stay. After all, he was much better than the usual selection of legal aged men around here.
"Are you sure you don't need anything else?"
"Yes thank you," he was at the door when he turned and gave a small bow. "Goodbye." With a shake of her head Rosmerta turned back to the masses who were coming for refills. So he didn't want to stay, he might be back. Besides, she was a strong woman. If nothing else, she had her smutty romance novels, her kneazle and a bottle of wine to keep her company.
"I still say you guys are exaggerating, I wouldn't have slept all day," Fleur only laughed as they entered the school's great hall for lunch. Sure enough, they had found Caroline, half in and half falling out of bed. Doing what could only be described as extremely dangerous work, they managed to rouse the girl to the land of the living, and after a pot of coffee, we able to get her dressed and out of the carriage.
"Are you kidding?" Felina was busy trying to secure a soup basin of bouillabaisse for the three of them, while Caroline played mother, pouring coffee and mixing it exactly how they preferred. "I've dealt with angry hippogriffs that have better moods than you in the morning." Succeeding, she filled a bowl before passing it down and loading the others.
"I'm not that bad," Caroline had already drained her first cup and was filling up a second. Fleur could only shake her head. Felina may have been growled at, but she was the one sporting three red lines from the girl's nails on her arm. Who knew that someone half asleep could react so quickly?
"Its okay, we still love you." Now that it was bright enough in the hall, Fleur couldn't help but again stare at the ceiling. She had always found charms to be fascinating, and the fact that someone, a witch even, had managed to create something so wondrous, that the spells still held after all this time. She would be lying if she said that it wasn't impressive. Fleur had heard that Hogwarts prided itself on the library here, perhaps they had a book written about how the witch had accomplished this?
The shriek was what caught her attention. She watched as a dark shape flew into the hall, and staring closely, recognized the Great Horned Owl as her late father's. He circled the room twice before diving quickly, only to pull up when he landed gently on her shoulder. "Hello Archie, what did mother send me?" She smiled as he rubbed his face against her cheek as she searched for something to tide him over. Spotting a sausage, she held it up, and he quickly grabbed it, swallowing it whole.
"Oh Fleur he's magnificent," she didn't even look away from the bird when she caught Felina's hand and lowered it to the table.
"Sorry, but if you had kept going, you would've been missing fingers." Archimedes had been in her family for as long as Fleur could remember. Her father had purchased him on a whim, and he was often a jokester who would keep her company. Fleur could even remember when Archimedes would actually get bored, seek her out and steal her hair ties, forcing her to chase him around the manor. That all changed when her father passed away. Something came over the animal, and he stopped playing and became violent. Anyone other than her mother, her sister or herself that tried to touch him, he would attack. Most times, he would just sit in her father's study staring at the fireplace. It was almost like he expected to see his master appear at any time.
Removing the envelope, he settled more securely on her shoulder, but she could still feel his head turning, constantly looking around the room. It was thick, and knowing her mother, Fleur realized that this letter was probably a novel. Opening it, she watched as several papers fell out, along with a single sheet of parchment. Reaching for it, she recognized her mother's perfect writing.
My dearest Fleur,
I hope England is treating you well, you know how I worry about you. Your sister has been getting anxious about hearing from you, so when you let Archimedes return, make sure you send a letter along. The weather here has been quite nice, but I am hoping for a little rain, the grass is starting to yellow and the flowers are already wilting. I know it happens every year, but I can't stand it.
Your cousin has sent out the wedding invitations, it will be for next July, so make sure you have nothing planned on that day. In fact, you should invite Harrison. 'Harrison'? What is she talking-
"Fleur, who the hell is this?!" She looked up and saw Caroline staring at something in her hand. Leaning over, she felt her cheeks heat up as she found herself looking at a picture of Seven sitting down with his arm around her at a beach, his hand almost dangerously high on her thigh. The worst part was, she was laughing in the picture. That was not how I took it!
"Gimme," She froze as Felina pulled the letter from her hands and continued reading, this time aloud:
"That's right young lady, I know all about him. Imagine my surprise when not two days after you left for school, a very handsome young man knocks on my door, looking for you? I am most disappointed in you Fleur, he seemed very nearly heartbroken when I told him you weren't there to meet him. He was most adamant about trying to get copies of the photos you two took together while on vacation. He even told me about how you two met. How you had not been watching where you were walking on the beach and literally fell into his lap. He is definitely a sweet young man.
"I asked him if he wanted to send a letter along with these, but he said he would write you on his own. Fleur my dear, I really like this young man, and so does your sister. I had gotten a floo call and had to step out for a few minutes, and when I came back, he was playing tea party with her. He even let her paint his nails without any fuss!"
Here, Fleur wished to sink down into the floor as Felina and Caroline cooed about, 'how sweet' he must be.
"I'm telling you to write to him young lady. He has moved to France, as you well know, and hopes to have his business up and running soon. He even invited us all over to his home for a visit during the holidays.
I have to go; I will write again soon. Remember, write to this boy, or I will write to him for you.
Love,
Mom"
When Felina had finished, Fleur refused to look up, she could feel their grins on her skin. Picking her head up off the table, she noticed that Caroline was just smiling at her, while Felina was staring at the pictures, her eyes getting wider at each new image. "I can explain-,"
"Yes, please do," Felina had turned the picture around, and this time, she did blush. The image was originally just of her and him leaning back on a bench, but had now changed to where he was playing with her hair, and she, she kept giving him little pecks on the cheek! Mother, I'm going to kill you!
"Like my mother said, we met in Italy, he was on vacation." She tried to go back to her lunch, but that didn't seem likely.
"What does he do?" That is a good question.
"He works in protective services," yeah, that could work. "He is very good."
"With those scars he'd have to be." Caroline was pointing at a rather nasty star-shaped one over his heart. She had felt it last night, it was warm and raised against his skin. It had surprised her how willing he was to let her touch him.
"So, when do we get to meet him?" This was the question she had been dreading. She loved her friends dearly, but Fleur knew these two would dig for answers like a niffler after gold and wouldn't stop until they were satisfied.
"Next summer, maybe." That would work. With any luck, she might be able to get rid of him by then. After that, all she would need to do is make up a little sob story about how they broke up. Easy.
"Now I can see why you sleep in his shirts." Felina had actually started to fan herself as she started a photo of Seven as he was leaning back against a beach towel, arms crossed behind his head. Even Fleur had to admit that, as much as it pained her, he looked good like that.
"You sleep in his shirts?!" Fleur knew that Caroline was surprised, she hadn't taken a drink of coffee since Archimedes arrived, it had to be some kind of record.
"How about we change the subject," she gathered the photos and shoved them into her bag. He had delivered them, and now she wanted to kill both him and her mother for it.
"Okay," she froze at the innocent tone of Felina's voice. "Let's talk about whether or not its possible to scrub laundry on," she lifted her mother's letter off the table. "Harrison's yummy looking stomach."
Gods kill me now.
Albus Dumbledore was currently waiting in his office for a rather uncomfortable conversation. He respected Alastor Moody. He had never referred to the man by his 'nickname', instead remembering the person who was one of the most decorated aurors the Ministry had ever produced. As well as an excellent bowler before he had lost his leg. It was a shame he would have to do this, but even friendship couldn't overlook what he had been told by several angry heads of houses.
The dull thud of wood against stone made him look to his door. "Ah Alastor, please come in, have a seat." The man was already sitting down, and sure enough, his eye was still constantly roving around in his skull. Inwardly, Albus cringed. When he had lost the eye, Alastor was met in his hospital room by two members of the department of mysteries. They had told him they could give him back his eye. That it would be better and allow him to complete his mission against the darkness. He didn't even hesitate to agree to it. "Lemon drop?" He asked more out of habit than anything, knowing the man wouldn't take one unless he had seen to their production and purchase himself.
"What do you need Albus? I've still got to prepare for my next class and Karkaroff has been acting especially twitchy today." The man pulled his flask and took a long pull. At its scent Albus wrinkled his nose. As long as he had known Alastor, the man had only put pure spring water into his flask. Perhaps he needs something stronger lately?
"I have received some very startling news regarding your classes from several professors." Here, he looked him in the eyes, making sure the twinkle he usually wore was absent. "I understand that you teach your trainees very differently at the academy, in fact, several other aurors have called your methods, 'monstrous'. But this is not the academy, and your pupils are not cadets. They are children."
"Albus, if they are going to defend themselves they must be ready." The man shifted, obviously his leg was giving him some discomfort today. "I figured that being here at the school, this would be the best way for them to experience the curses first hand."
"That may be true, I could understand your demonstrations being used in the sixth and seventh year classes, but fourth years." He felt himself losing control and looked to where Fawkes appeared to be observing the conversation. The bird gave a soft trill and Albus felt himself gain back a measure of calmness that was slipping. "The Cruciatus Curse, the Imperius, Avada Kedavra? These are children." He rose and turned away, even with the phoenix song ringing in his ears, his temper was fraying. "I also know that it was young Mister Longbottom who witnessed the torture curse directly in front of him."
He looked towards the lake and saw the Durmstrang ship bobbing on the still water, apparently, the giant squid was curious today. "You were the first auror on scene when the Longbottoms were attacked. Alastor, you even held a crying infant, trying to calm him down as his broken parents lay not three feet from you. Why did you feel the need to show him that curse?"
Turning back, a small part of him was glad that Alastor was acting sheepish, as if realizing just what his actions had caused. "You're right Albus. I only realized it after class and hunted the boy down." He turned to face the door, but somehow, Albus knew that blue eye was still on him. "He and I had a long talk over a cup of tea. I even gave him a few of my books on rare plants. The boy seemed to perk up after that."
"And what made you want to give him those?"
"It was spur of the moment really," the man again shifted. "I blame that Sprout woman, she's always praising the boy in the lounge and it just clicked when I was staring at my book shelf." Here, Albus smiled, at once understanding the shiftiness. Alastor Moody hated showing his feelings, this must feel like pulling teeth to him.
"Very well," he sat back down and reached for a candy, happy how the discussion was going. "Will there be anymore, 'demonstrations' in your class?"
"I was hoping to put the students under the Imperius later in the year."
"Alastor I must object t-,"
"Albus, it is the most harmless and I want them to be ready." The man turned back and held his gaze. "They need to be ready. I want them to experience it, and see if they have the will to shake it off."
"Very well," he spat out the candy into his waste basket, the conversation making the sweetness seem sour. "But only the N.E.W.T. students."
"Third year and up."
"The N.E.W.T. students only Alastor, this isn't a negotiation."
"I want the fourths and higher Albus," he was taken back. The man actually growled at him. Here, he steeled himself.
"Very well Alastor, but I will be present for the fourth and fifth years." The man nodded. "And any who do not wish to be subjected will not be forced." The man seemed to freeze before nodding and rising to go. He was almost to the door when he stopped and turned to stare at the fireplace.
"Albus, what is that?" He didn't need to look to know that Alastor had seen the candle. He could see almost anything with that eye of his.
"My bowling trophy," he turned and smiled widely at the tacky piece of plastic and crystal. "I must admit I was surprised to have won it, considering I fouled out twice tripping over my beard."
"I meant the candle Albus."
"Oh that?" He focused on it for a moment, and decided that this was something that the fewer who knew about it, the better. "Just something Nicholas and I made when we first started working together, a memento more than anything."
"Really?" Here both natural and artificial eyes locked onto his. "I see."
"Was there anything else Alastor?"
"No Albus," he turned back to the door when the headmaster stopped him with a gesture.
"Alastor, I understand that we each cope with our pains and stresses differently. I myself have become addicted to sweets to cope." He gestured to the sliver flask that hung from Alastor's belt. "If I hear about you being intoxicated while teaching, I will not hesitate to remove you from the grounds."
"Of course Albus, I'll see you at the feast tonight."
"Of course," he watched him leave and turned back to the candle. Again, the flame had not waivered or burned down for some time. In fact, these past few days it seemed to be burning even brighter. Yes, wherever Harry Potter was, he was finally safe.
"I hate you," she was storming around her room, gathering her cloak as she prepared for the feast. It was the night of the Selection, and each one of them had been told to dress in their best. She had returned to her room and found him laying on his little pink bed, looking for all the world like a simple housecat. He had even perfected the opening of only one eye when she slammed the door open.
"Thanks to you," she sat down at her table and checked her makeup and hair, its fine, she turned to glare at him. "My friends are now teasing me constantly. They're right now trying to figure out whether or not we even spent the night together." She threw open her closet and grabbed the nearest robe. Stripping quickly, she pulled it on. When she received a whistle from the mirror, she stopped checking for wrinkles. Stepping out, Fleur again glared at him as she marched over to her bed. She bent down to find her shoes, still irritated with him, but at the same time pleased. At least he wasn't trying to dress her. She would probably try and curse him if he attempted to help right now. Finding one shoe, she continued to tear around the room venting and searching.
"And don't even get me started on my mother right now." Giving up her search, she drew her wand and simply summoned it. Her anger grew even hotter when the shoe soared out from under her bed, wrapped up in another one of his shirts. Taking the garment, she balled it up and threw it at him, taking some perverse joy when it knocked him off his bed. "I can't believe you told her about this and, that she helped you." Shoes strapped, she proceeded to fasten her cloak. "I don't know what is worse, Caroline teasing me about having a boyfriend, Felina going on about how my mother must have a crush on him to talk about him so much, or the fact that I'm sure she is still giggling about this back home?!"
Finished dressing, she started to walk out of the room, then stopped and went back to him. Picking him up, she raised him to her eyes. "First, when I get back, I want a bath ready and waiting," when he nodded, she turned, tucking him under one arm as if he were a soccer ball. "And two you're coming with me." He was wrong if he thought she'd be leaving him alone or sending him away any time soon. The last thing she needed was him to doing something even worse, like sending her another letter with her panties in them, saying he found them while cleaning his house. Before she got to the others, she stopped and cast a warming charm on herself, it was then she felt it, and stared down at him. She could feel his contentment, almost happiness through their bond. He was glad that she was angry at him, that she was paying attention to him. "I really hate you."
Thankfully, her friends had mostly stopped teasing her when they got to the castle. Oh, they still grinned at her, and Felina couldn't stop herself from saying little things, like, "I wonder if Harrison kept anything from you?" But, they were being tolerable now. She also felt relaxed because of the slight weight on her feet. At least she knew where Seven was, and he wasn't causing any her trouble.
"So, Cho," Felina leaned next to one of the Hogwarts students. It didn't surprise Fleur that the girl had already made friends with them, she always was a social butterfly. "Who do you think will be your school's champion?"
"Well, the Gryffindors are rooting for Katie Bell," she pointed over to the table across from them, and Fleur could see one girl in red in particular. She was surrounded by people and seemed pale, pushing food around on her plate without any real desire to eat it. "But personally, I think it'll be Cedric Diggory." Fleur couldn't help but smile at the girl's expression when she said the name.
Following her finger, Fleur noticed it was the boy Felina was making eyes at the night before. He was smiling, calm, confident, and yet, he somehow also looked humble. Fleur was surprised though, he seemed to be one of the oldest students, but was sitting with younger years, patiently answering their questions. She couldn't blame the younger girl; he was handsome in a way. But he seemed to lack a certain something. Idly, she thought about how he looked like someone who probably would walk away from a fight instead of winning it. In many ways, that was almost undesirable to her. She wanted a man who would fight until he had nothing left, and then keep going. A man who would let her be independent, do things on her own, yet also take care of her. Someone who could keep up with her, challenge her, someone who… Oh dear Gods, she felt the color drain from her face. I'm starting to like the bastard who's sitting on my feet.
"He's cute," Felina again started to make eyes at him. "Is he seeing anyone?" When she turned back, she saw the look Cho was giving her. "Relax, I didn't know he was taken."
The girl blushed, and looked down at her lap. "We haven't made it official yet but,"
"Like I said, you don't have to worry. I may be a flirt, but I won't steal a girl's man." She sighed, and looked back at Cedric once more before shrugging. "He may have been fun though."
"Oh you have no idea." Now, Cho was grinning and Felina laughed while the other two groaned in annoyance, now there might be two of them.
"So, how much longer do you think it will be?" Fleur now really wanted this to be over with. She needed to get back to her room and think, preferable away from Seven.
"Well, considering the desserts are gone," Fleur looked down and realized that even the flatware had been cleared. Suddenly, she found herself wishing she had eaten more. "I don't think too much longer."
Albus Dumbledore was finally relaxed. The Tournament was about to officially begin in a few minutes, and everything was going as planned. He had looked to his left and smiled as he saw Barty Crouch lowering himself into a chair next to Alastor. It was good to see the man up and about. While the unpleasantness surrounding his son may have forced him into a different career path, Barty had risen back up and revitalized his office. It was strange though, watching Alastor glare at the man. When they had worked together in law enforcement, Alastor was one of his strongest supporters, now it was like he hated the man. Perhaps they needed to have another talk?
Further down he could see Ludo Bagman talking excitedly with Pomona. That didn't surprise him. The man was one of the first students who she had had as head of house, and she followed the man's progress closely. He must have said something funny, given the way he was laughing and her snorting. It was a bit of a shame though. He remembered the man when he was a student, and he had changed. But then again, he had been catching cast iron balls with his head for over ten years, something had to give.
Even further down, he could see Hagrid was talking softly with Olympe. Given the way she was blushing, he could only hope that good things sprung from that pairing. Hagrid had had a long hard life, first with the circumstances of his birth, then the untimely loss of his father, and finally his unjust expulsion. He prayed that this would be the start of something good. As long as he was careful with how he approached it, of course.
"Albus?"
"Hmm?" He turned and saw Minerva looking closely at him. Inwardly, he cringed when she pursed her lips at him. She must have been speaking, and he had ignored her. Again. "I'm sorry Minerva, my mind just wandered away. What were you saying my dear?" He was pleased with himself with her cheeks reddened. She may have been his student once, but that was a long time ago and she was a fine woman now, and still beautiful. If he could make her blush, all the better. It might just make her forget why she was upset with him in the first place.
"I said that the tables had been cleared and something seems to be going on with the goblet." He looked up and could see that, indeed, the food was gone and that the flames of the goblet had changed to a deep red. Its choices had been made and it awaited the one who ignited it, him, to step forward.
"Thank you my dear," he raised her hand to his lips and rose. As he walked, he gestured for her to open the antechamber to the trophy room and wait for the chosen. Moving forward, he drew his wand and dimmed the candles. It wasn't necessary, but nothing hurt to set the mood. Raising his wand to his throat, he murmured the incantation with a sigh. He hated using this spell, it made him hoarse for hours after each use.
"It appears as if the Goblet is ready to choose its champions. I remind you all again, if you are chosen, there is no going back. If you change your mind," his eyes swept the crowd, finding faces both new and familiar. "Then the consequences of your foolishness will be dire, perhaps even lethal." He decided to let that set in before turning his attention to the goblet.
The very air seemed electrified as he waiting at its base. The flames, now a deep crimson, seemed to almost boil like water when a great jet shot straight up into the air before retreating into the goblet. Floating high above him, he could see it, a slightly scorched piece of parchment, folded loosely as it toppled down to him. Catching it, he cleared his throat, already feeling the slightest itch of soreness. "The champion for," he opened it and nodded. "Durmstrang is, VIKTOR KRUM!"
He watched as the brothers from the north cheered their member on, their headmaster roaring with pride. The boy finally extracted himself, and Albus felt a stab of pity as he watched the young man march forward with a very slight limp, almost a waddle. He had felt that before, a broken hip that wasn't mended quite right. Perhaps, he would have Poppy take a look at him before they left the school. The lad eventually made his way to him and grasped his hand tightly, his mouth a thin line. "Through the back door." The lad started to walk when he said something else, quiet enough that, even with the spell, only Viktor would hear. "Viel gluck." The lad stopped, turning around with a wide smile.
"Endsieg."
Albus could only shake his head. Perhaps, but he had to face to others before that. He watched as the flames again almost boiled out of the goblet before leaping high, leaving a single piece of parchment to float to his hand. He already knew the school this belonged to, it was folded too, well, delicately, to be anyone else. "The champion for Beauxbatons is," he was surprised by how small the writing was, he should have brought his other glasses with him. "FLEUR DELACOUR!"
Again, the hall rang, but he was surprised at the amount of wailing from the French students as the girl rose. He turned to see Olympe shaking her head in disgust. Yes, it was a shame to not be chosen, but still, one should show some dignity, and pride in their fellow student. The girl appeared to be pulling at something on her leg before passing it to a student beside her. He was surprised to see it was a small grey cat that appeared almost frantic to be at her side. Again, he shook her hand, proud of her strength. "Felicitations mademoiselle," he bowed and she gave a small curtsey before following his hand to the door.
This time, the flames actually did boil over the edge before a large gout of fire shot towards the ceiling. He already had his hand up when the paper floated down. Opening it, he gave a nod, glad of the selection. The house needed a bit of respect, and this would most assuredly bring it. "And finally, the Champion for Hogwarts is," he couldn't help himself but make them wait, let the suspense fill. "CEDRIC DIGGORY!"
This time, the cheers were deafening. All four houses seemed to unite around this young man and for a moment, Albus was happy. This was what he was constantly striving for. The houses were truly united. There were no different houses or colors, no rivalry, no blood feuds; just students united to support one of their own. Their champion. After walking through a gauntlet of shaking hands and backslaps, the young man was before him, and Albus smiled proudly. "Congratulations Mr. Diggory, follow the others and good luck." The lad nodded before jogging to the back of the room.
"There you have it, your three Champions. In a moment myself and the others will go and prepare them," he was glad they were all paying attention, almost in awe of the moment. "In the meantime-," he felt it then. Over the years Albus had learned that, sometimes, magic felt like a slight breeze when it moved. So soft, that one would only notice it if they were really paying attention. What he felt now was anything but that. Turning back to the goblet, he saw that the fire still burned, going from crimson, to azure and finally black.
He had only seen something like this once, and it was when he was apprenticed under the Flamels. That object had only been a fraction as powerful as this, and its blast forced him to take three long years to regrow his beard. He drew his wand quickly, knowing that he had to get the goblet away from the students. A magical explosion from something this powerful, it would definitely be lethal. Looking around, he saw that the students had risen and were moving to the back of the hall. Good, they would be safer there.
The flames started to circle around the goblet like angry serpents before turning white and shooting upwards, rolling against the ceiling. He looked to the windows. They were centuries old, but he was sure the school board would understand needing to buy a new one when he explained why it was broken. The spell was on his lips when the flames dropped back down to the goblet and he saw it.
Floating near the ceiling and drifting downwards was a single piece of parchment. He kept his wand trained on the goblet and moved slowly forward. Looking, he could see that it was still burning, although at this point the flames were nothing more than embers. Turning back, he saw that the parchment had settled to the floor, and with a wave of his wand, it was in his hand. He was shaking as he started to open it. When he found out which student was foolish enough to try and force the goblet to choose them he would…
He froze at the name. Who could have done this? He could feel his anger rising, and with great difficulty, managed to force it back down. This was a death sentence, for certain. How could anyone have thought to do this? Again, his eyes dropped to the parchment, "THE BOY WHO LIVED" glared back at him.
"Albus," he turned and saw Minerva staring at him, concern etched on her face. He was sure she was thinking what everyone else was, what just happened?
Turning, he again faced the students. "Well," he cleared his throat, the discomfort forgotten. "Again, congratulations to our champions. I'm sure you all wish to prepare a proper celebration for them," he was answered with a deafening roar from all three schools. "Then I wish you all a very fond goodnight."
After seeing the hall begin to clear, he turned away, moving quickly to the trophy room. He needed the other headmasters now to help him save a child's life. He also needed to find out how this could have happened. But most of all, Albus could only think of was one thing. I'm so sorry Harry.
Whew, well, I'm still alive, as you can see, and this story isn't abandoned. N and I have been moving around a lot, and not gonna lie, this chapter was just hard to write. Now that its here, things should progress much more smoothly. Am I gonna promise when the next update will be, no, because even I don't know. I wrestled for a while about whether or not Harry would be entered, but I decided, that in the end, to have him chosen.
This has taken me an obscenely long time to write, and I'm still not satisified with it. In some ways, it feels rushed to me, but I hope you all like it. In the meantime, enjoy. I plan on Ron and Hermione being somewhat involved, how much, I don't know, but they will get their share of screen time. The first task will probably be in the next chapter, the one after that for sure.