A/N: I don't do these often (I feel they detract from the story), but in this case I am making an exception. When I published chapter 8, a reviewer with the handle of Conu came up with an excellent suggestion that honestly, I did not think of on my own. The story then changed slightly in my mind and I could not stop thinking of it.
So, Conu? Thank you so much for the excellent idea you gave me. Anyone that reads the review will know it. This is to give proper credit to the originator of such a great idea and to show my thanks for it and in allowing me to use it.
And to all of you that read and review, who have added this to C2s or alerted it or favorited it? Thank you ALL. I'm honored and humbled you find what I write to be not only worth your time, but to also ensure I know what is good (or bad) and keep tabs on it.
Now I'm shutting up and getting to the reason why you're here: the story!
Fleur Delacour poked her head into the room, a tray of food in her hands. She had made chicken fricassee for her guest, but he was sleeping. His pet owl glanced over and gave a friendly hoot as Fleur silently placed Harry's food on the bedtable, near his glasses but not near enough for him to accidentally jostle it. She had also put some tea there for him.
Yes, he had asked her to pay that visit to the Muggle Prime Minister as soon as possible, but she did not want to think of him being hungry. Not this young man who had saved her sister and now was trying so desperately to fit into a role Fleur was sure he did not expect. The least she could do was tend to him the best she could.
She knew he was sleeping now though, so she dressed appropriately for a meeting with a Muggle politician. She had pearl earrings and a hat, with a black dress. Harry had mentioned Muggles, so Fleur prepared to charm and use magic to see this man. And, getting an idea from the boy who was sleeping, she too put on a brown-haired wig. It would not do to be recognized so simply. Now ready for her meeting, the witch left the flat.
Though she appeared calm and serene as she strode through the streets of London, her mind was busy thinking and planning. That Dementor could have destroyed Harry. She had been too slow in reacting. She had not been ready and that kind of error would hurt severely if it happened again.
She would practice from now on. She would ensure she could effectively watch Harry's back, help the young man who was trusting her with so much. But how could she help him besides this meeting? Harry had to think so many steps ahead, had to worry about so many...
Ah. There was something. Bill had told her in June that he had been present when Dumbledore had tried to tell the-then Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, about the return of Voldemort.
What a name. Voldemort... a butchering of her native tongue, Fleur felt. A powerful wizard feared by so many and yet could not even use his own language or given name.
She pushed the thoughts about the wizard's name away. What was important was what Bill had told her. Dumbledore had told Fudge that it would be a parting of the ways if they did not agree. Fleur was not there in that room that day.
But Harry had been.
The thought occurred as she walked. Forging a letter from someone would not be difficult, especially with the former Minister having correspondence with the bank. The goblins would be able to state it was in his records... Yes. With a letter..."Open in the event of my unnatural death or disappearance. Share the contents with everyone. Let the truth be known." It could be with a vial containing the memory of that night.
Dumbledore was a powerful wizard. Harry would not be able to take him in a duel and Fleur knew she could not. But perhaps they could strike in a way that was not expected. Everyone was slandering the older wizard, but with the events happening, they were turning to him once more, proclaiming him a brilliant and powerful wizard, a good Headmaster and he would, no doubt, be re-instated in all his former positions.
If word got out he had, essentially, threatened the former Minister of Magic whom was now dead, well... what would people think?
She had reached the place. It was obvious by the guards.
"Closed, miss, sorry," one said, giving her an apologetic look.
Fleur twisted her face into a confused expression, "But ze Prime Minister wished to see me."
The man shared a look with another guard and Fleur took out a piece of paper. "I 'ope zis makes evairzhing clear?"
The eyes fluttered for a few moments, both of them, before both guards nodded. "Yes, miss. Our apologies. We shall get an escort for you immediately."
"Zhank you," Fleur said with a smile, following a guard that led the way. She could see people looking at her, some with envy, others with obvious lust. They were unimportant.
After a confused flurry of activity from the secretary and guard, with a subtle spell, Fleur was soon waiting for the Prime Minister.
"Sorry," the Prime Minister said as she entered. "I... I wasn't aware I had a meeting..."
Fleur nodded and saw the magical painting. A simple spell made it unable to react to her presence and it would not remember this at all. Paintings were, after all, just that: paint on a canvas. Freeze the paint and it would not react.
"I am vairy sorry," Fleur stated. "I did not wish for anyone to know I am 'ere."
The Prime Minister looked at the wand, looked at the portrait and looked at Fleur once more before groaning softly. "Magic, then? What now?"
Fleur gave an amused smile, "You 'ave not 'ad many good experiences, zen?"
The Prime Minister simply shook his head, remembering that 'Serious' Black, that 'Kwidditch' thing and the dragons... and a sphinx. "No," he said simply.
"We zought as much," Fleur said gently. "Might I make some tea?"
"Please," the Prime Minister said quietly, watching her conjure it up. "I normally deal with Fudge."
"Ze Ministry is in disarray," Fleur said, amused as she sipped her tea. "And Fudge 'as died. Zhere iz a war coming, sir. It is already 'ere, but not recognized. We 'ad 'oped to inform you so zat you will be prepared to take ze necessary steps."
"He's dead?" The man felt a pang of sympathy before he remembered her other words. "War?" repeated the Prime Minister nervously. "Surely that's a little bit of an overstatement?"
Fleur shook her head. "Non. Ze Dark Lord, Voldemort, 'as returned."
The Prime Minister glanced at her quizzically, "Fudge never would say his name."
"Cowards, ze lot of zhem," Fleur dismissed. "I was requested to visit to show we respect you, Minister. We are not part of ze Ministry."
"You're..." The man paused and took more tea before he spoke, "War is brewing, you said. Of course. You're involved in it."
"Not just us," Fleur said. "Zhere are others. One is ze Ministry, which you 'ave seen. Highly ineffective and cowardly. Anozzer is Voldemort. 'E, like so many dark beings before 'im, does not like ze non-magical world. Ze Ministry had denied his return for a bit, but with ze ones zat did gone, it will be... accepted soon."
The Prime Minister nodded, looking grave. He had heard about the man before.
"Zen zere ees Albus Dumblydorr," continued the witch. "'E is a powerful wizard and 'as good intentions, but 'e talks more zen acts."
"And then there's you. Your group," the Minister stated.
Fleur nodded, "Yes. We are not perfect, but we seek to improve zings. Our world is not as... open-minded as yours."
There was pain of experience in her eyes and the Prime Minister, though he was no wizard, was not a fool. He adjusted his tie and glasses before sipping at tea.
"So why are you here?" He asked finally.
"Our leader wanted to inform you of ze situation," Fleur answered. "'E zhought zat you could 'elp or at least know ze actual facts behind some odd events. And... 'e 'as great respect for ze Muggle world. 'E was raised in it and will be using zhings from it. We are equals. It is why 'e sent me. If you 'ave any questions, I will attempt to answer zem."
The Prime Minister blinked a few times, thinking as he sipped the tea. The young woman in front of him was not acting anything like Fudge had the few times he had paid a visit. He was, after all, the Prime Minister and did not appreciate being made to feel like an ignorant schoolboy.
The young woman in front of him had not come through the fireplace or anything. She was not presuming anything from this meeting... and she had been respectful all of this time. But she had not visited before. He sipped more tea, nodding. The others must have been fighting long before this new leader. And yet, the Prime Minister could not help but be interested in whomever had first thought of him to be informed as...
Well, as an equal.
He chuckled, "Your side seems to be the wild card in this. I will keep an eye on news stories and ensure that you're welcome here anytime."
"Zhank you, sir," Fleur said, shaking his hand. "Might we keep zis meeting... between us?"
"Of course. Thank you, for the tea and information."
Fleur smiled, a beautiful radiant one that had the man across from her looking away. "You are vairy welcome, sir. I shall come back anozzer time to keep you up to date."
"Thank you, again."
She stood and paused, "May I apparate, sir?"
"Apparate?" The Prime Minister repeated, confusion evident in his voice.
"Ah, I apologize. Zat is a magical way 'o travel. We disappear from where we are and reappear where we would like to be at."
"You mean you vanish from here and then you're somewhere else?" The Prime Minister was surprised.
Fleur smiled and nodded.
"Magic lets you teleport? That's amazing. Why did he always use the fireplace then?"
"Ah, eet is considered rude to Apparate somewhere without warning," Fleur answered.
He nodded, before remembering she had asked a question, "Ah, yes, go on. Thank you."
"You are vairy welcome. And zhank you." With that and a soft popping sound, Fleur was gone, leaving a Prime Minister with a delightful cup of tea and a look of wonder on his face.
She reappeared in her flat, quite pleased as she took off her hat and the wig. She served herself some food and then took out a book on dueling techniques. She would make sure she was ready for this upcoming fight.
The evening passed in this manner until she heard rustling in the guest room and footsteps. She turned from her reading to see Harry standing there with his now empty tray. "Thank you."
She smiled at him, "Eet was my pleasure, 'Arry."
He gave a small, grateful smile and went to put the food away. The brief sleep had done wonders. He felt much better.
"I 'ave an idea," Fleur stated from where she sat.
"What is it?" Harry inquired, washing the dishes in the sink. It was born from a lifetime of habit and it wasn't exactly a bad one, so why change?
"Well... we will be against three enemies," Fleur stated calmly. "Ze Prime Minister was most pleasant." She smiled, remembering the meeting, "'E called our side ze wild card in zis."
Harry paused thoughtfully in his washing of the dishes. The wild card. It had an interesting ring to it.
Fleur continued speaking, "My idea... was 'o 'ave you take ze memory of ze night Dumblydoor and Fudge spoke."
"That's... why would we do that?" Harry asked this as he turned off the sink and faced the quarter-veela witch.
She took a deep breath and told Harry everything she had thought of earlier.
The young man was visibly impressed. "That's brilliant," he said, smiling. "We'll talk to the goblins tomorrow, but I'm sure they'll go for it."
Before Fleur could speak, an owl flew in and went right to Harry. As had become his new habit, he Stunned and Obliviated the small owl before putting it outside. He ran a few spells over the letter and, upon discovering no magic on it, he opened it. There seemed to be two people writing this note, and a long scratch on the page, showing they had fought for the quill.
Harry,
WHERE ARE YOU? I~
We're all worried about you. It's not safe to be out there. I know you're hiding because of what happened to your family, but we can keep you safe. Just trust us. I know it had to have been hard keeping your head down and the like, but things have changed. Please let me know you're okay and we'll get you straight away.
-Snuffles & Remus
PS: If you can call that daft git 'Sirius' then you can call me by my given name as well. He's been frantic with worry. Please write soon.
The young man looked over the letter once more before handing it to Fleur.
"What do you want 'o do?" Fleur asked.
Harry gave a smile, "I said it before. We fight. If we have more enemies, then that is not our fault. And if they were so worried, then perhaps they shouldn't have just left me." He stopped and began to laugh, but it wasn't one of amusement. It was bitter and far too old for the teen. "How can they expect me to trust them when they have not earned it?"
Fleur nodded.
"Well," Harry murmured, tossing the letter in the rubbish, "he was right about one thing though. Things have changed." He yawned, shaking his head.
"Perhaps you should get more sleep?" Fleur suggested.
Before he could answer, there was a knock on the door. Harry dashed back to the guest room and had returned in disguise far faster than Fleur expected.
"Fleur?" a voice called.
"I'm coming Bill," she called back, looking at Harry with wide-eyes. She wasn't expecting him so soon. He had said he would be busy for a few days.
Harry just nodded, showing it'd be fine. Nervous but managing to look completely normal, Fleur opened the door to reveal the older red-haired wizard.
"Hey, Ragnok said you had moved," he said, giving her a peck on the cheek and blinking at seeing someone else. "Er..."
"Zis is my cousin Henri," Fleur said calmly.
Harry chuckled, "Well, more like our grandmothers were friends and insisted on calling us that. They wanted me to make sure she was 'safe' while she is here. Nice to meet you, Bill Weasley. I'm Henri, but everyone calls me Harry."
The lie flowed rather naturally from both of them, and the two just shared a conspirator's smile.
"Er, yeah, likewise," Bill said, shaking Harry's hand and just thinking the smile was that between two old friends.
"I'm going to get back to sleep," Harry said, giving a smile. "I'll bother you at work tomorrow."
Fleur nodded and Harry watched her and Bill for a moment before returning to his room. That had been close. Very close indeed.
Something would have to be done about such close calls. Bill Weasley didn't know his habits, his mannerisms... but his brothers did. It had been luck this time that Bill hadn't recognized his voice or anything.
Harry knew better than to rely on luck. He just didn't feel like adding to his troubles at the moment. Sighing, he decided the best thing to do right now was to read up more on runes and to use his brain and keep thinking about how to keep the others guessing, to keep them curious, keep throwing them off...
It wouldn't be an easy win.
The teen shook his head at his thoughts. Fleur's idea regarding Dumbledore was a good one. Perhaps that would help things a bit regarding sheer numbers. But then what?
Ah, right. Training. He would have to train alongside those with him, to show all were equal.
Harry suspected he would be very tired in the upcoming days and that he would have to deal with more surprises, but it would be worth it in the end.
Hedwig, as if reading her master's mind, hooted gently and Harry gave her a smile before getting his book on runes and studying more.