Chapter 11
"I will see you later, Emissary," Danielle told Harry as he walked her to the conference room. He nodded, knowing that this meeting was for courtiers only and turned to head back to his room for an hour or so. She caught his arm and pulled him to herself, wrapping him in a hug and giving him a gentle kiss on the lips. "Just because I expect nothing from you does not mean I will not take opportunities that present themselves," she whispered seductively before entering the room. Harry walked back to his own with a huge grin on his face.
"Did you have a pleasant evening, Emissary?" He heard Gabrielle's voice as he approached his quarters and turned to the girl; she was dressed, once again, in the light blue robes of the non-courtier residents rather than the gold she'd worn the day before.
"I did, thank you," his smile grew as he thought back on the night he and Danielle had shared. "I was kept thoroughly entertained."
"I am sure," the girl muttered under her breath before forcing her face into a smile. "Is there anything I can help you with today?"
"No, thank you Gabbi," he replied. "I have a meeting with the Queen in about an hour. Until then I will retire to my room."
"As you wish," she nodded and headed down the corridor, turning back to watch him enter his room with a wistful look on her face.
Conference Room
"As you now know," the Queen spoke to the silent room, "Marie hanged herself last night." A sombre nod rippled through their ranks. "She was found, this morning, by Anne-Louise," she gestured to the guard stood stoically just inside the door, trying not to show how overwhelmed and intimidated she was to be in the presence of the most influential members of her race, "when she brought them breakfast and prepared for their travel to the mines. I will ask her to explain what happened," and the monarch gestured to the nervous girl. She swallowed and blotted her hands on her skirt before shuffling forward to the area gestured to by her ruler.
"I entered the dungeons at 6 a.m.," she began, head lowered to avoid the myriad gazes that were focussed on her, "with food for the prisoners. I heard what sounded like crying and when I looked I could see Marie hanging there. I opened the cell and cut her down but she was already cold. The healer, when I took her, said she had been dead for several hours. This ties in with what the others said; she made the decision shortly after the guard left last evening and did it then."
"How did she do it?" Danielle asked, breaking the pained silence that had engulfed the room. "Surely anything she could use had been removed from the prisoners?"
"It was," the guard nodded, finding herself able to look the one Veela in the eye and ignore the presence of the others for now, "she used her own clothing, specifically the top of her robes, to tie to the top of the bars and then tie the rest around her neck."
"Why did she do it?" Another Veela called.
"Was she remorseful over her actions?" a third speculated.
Shyness returned to Anne-Louise as she was reminded of the esteemed company she was keeping. "No," she shook her head sombrely, "according to the others they were told that the Emissary had requested they be treated leniently," she threw the Queen a quick glance; her nod confirmed this, "and Marie believed that meant she would owe him a life debt. She said that she refused to live in a world where she would owe such a debt to a wizard."
The room was shocked into silence by this disclosure. The Queen, who had already learnt all this from her guard, was next to speak. "Thank you, Anne-Louise. You should all know, we attach no blame to the Emissary for this incident. But for his request they could, and would, have faced charges of treason; by now they would all be dead." She stood and turned to the courtiers who rushed to their feet in response. "This is not the doing of the Emissary," she repeated vehemently; many of the courtiers nodded, even if a few seemed to do so hesitantly.
She saw Danielle and many of the others nodding their agreement, though one or two looked sceptical. "Your Majesty," Danielle asked, "what has happened to the others?"
The Queen turned to Anne-Louise. "As per Her Majesty's orders, they were escorted to the mines this morning; there they will remain for the next twenty years before going into exile."
The Queen thanked her again and dismissed her; Anne-Louise bowed out of the room. "To the next order of business – the proposed treaty with Britain. Do any objections remain to our signing it?" Her eyes swept the court; valid objections had been raised, discussed and addressed in the past and, while she knew some remained outright hostile and would never support the signing, they did so ideologically rather than objecting to the specifics of it; it was the waverers, instead, that she had sought to placate, those with valid concerns that they had tried to overcome. With the question phrased the way it was, it was clear that objections would not be overly welcome.
"Your Majesty," the Veela who had spoken to Harry after the trial called out; the Queen nodded to her, encouraging her to speak, all waited on her words, knowing the misgivings she had voiced over the treaty. "The Emissary's words and actions yesterday have erased my concerns; I believe he portrays a very positive image of his country, something he has claimed since he arrived and has now proven to my satisfaction. As such I look favourably on the signing of the treaty and allying ourselves with them against this new threat he, and our sisters in the eastern exclaves, have alluded to."
Danielle let out a breath she didn't realise she'd held; the deal, she felt, was done. This was confirmed when no fresh objections were raised.
"Then the Emissary shall be informed. Have him brought to the offices in twenty minutes," she ordered before turning and leaving the room.
"I will let him know," Danielle offered; the others were happy to let her and the courtiers filed out of the room.
Royal Office
Harry was again shown to the room where he'd met the Queen to intercede for his would-be assailants; he was shaking slightly as Danielle had reluctantly told him, in response to his question, the reason for the Veela's suicide.
"Your Majesty," he began as he found himself in her presence, alone but for one of her ever-present Royal Guards, "I am so sorry for the death of your courtier. I didn't realise my request would make her…"
"Emissary," the Monarch cut sharply across him, silencing him, "you did not make her do anything. You did not break into the Dungeons, tie her clothing around her neck and hang her from the top of her cell." Harry winced as the grizzly details were revealed to him. "She made her choices," the Queen continued. "You are here now because the court has agreed – we will sign a treaty with you."
Harry's brain was reeling; Danielle had said nothing about this when she'd been to find him and he'd feared that the deal was off and he would be ordered to leave the enclave. Instead he'd completed his mission! His first solo mission and it had been a total success!
"That is wonderful news, Your Majesty. If the treaty is to be signed then may I use your floo to bring our Minister over for the signing ceremony?"
"Of course, that would be the best thing to do," she agreed. "You may use the one in this office. It will be set up to receive guests by lunchtime."
He looked at her; as usual she wore just the ermine-type robe around her, tied at the front of her neck.
"Uh, your Majesty," he began, trying to make his voice tactful and diplomatic, "may I respectfully recommend that you uh… dress differently for the meeting with the Minister?"
The Queen cast him a questioning look so he elaborated. "While it may be a symbol of your stature and a tradition for your nation I feel it would make our Minister… uncomfortable. It would also doubtless upset his assistant," he added, desperately trying to suppress a smirk at the thought of Lily's reaction to seeing her greet James while wearing so little.
"Really?" The monarch was unconcerned about upsetting a mere assistant.
"Well, more like anger really," he admitted awkwardly.
"Anger, you say?" she was surprised that it would evoke that level of reaction in someone so junior. "And who is this assistant?"
"My mother," Harry revealed with a grin. "She may not have the ability to transform the way the Veela can but she can certainly get angry and inflict serious damage when she does so. Perhaps even with some fireballs of her own," he finished, causing the queen to laugh.
"You sound like you have a lot of experience of this?" the monarch pried, now smiling at him.
"Maybe a little," he conceded uncomfortably.
"Then I shall be sure not to anger your mother," she promised with a most unregal grin as she lapsed out of the stilted, formal language she typically used. "After all," she added mischievously, "it sounds like these stories would be fun to hear and if the meeting goes well I'm sure I could persuade her to share some of them."
Harry bit his lip; he didn't expect his mother to make the trip so he hoped that there would be no danger of the stories of his youth being told but there was no need to break that news to the queen, though he was sure that his father meeting a beautiful and practically naked Head of State would lead to her racing through the floo to have words, no matter how big a diplomatic incident it would cause.
"In the meantime," he asked, eager to change the subject, "could I use the floo already available to inform my Minister of the good news?"
"Of course," she nodded. "Go and speak to your father. It will give him a chance to prepare for the ceremony this afternoon, if he is free then."
"British Ministry of Magic; Minister's Office!" Harry called, having hurried to the floo; the connection opened and he placed his head in the green flames.
"Hi dad," he greeted James, who started a little as his son's head appeared.
"Harry!" The Minister called, a little louder than was absolutely necessary; as intended this caused Lily to race into the room moments later.
"Harry! How have you been?" she asked as her head joined her husband's in the emerald flames.
"I'm ok," he said. "Actually… there was an incident. I was attacked but my robes deflected the spell. They worked perfectly; I'll have to thank Luna, Hermione and the twins next time I see them."
"Me too," Lily agreed in a voice laden with relief. "Are you sure you're ok?"
"Physically, yes." His parents looked at him in concern and he took a deep breath. "One of the attackers hanged herself." His mum gasped. "I asked that they be treated leniently and she decided that meant she owed me a life debt – apparently they could have been executed for attacking me. Anyway, I just feel so guilty that she's dead and it's because she didn't want to owe a life debt to a wizard."
"Harry, it's not your fault," James told him sternly.
"I know, dad, I just…" his son shook his head.
"Oh darling, I wish I could give you a hug right about now," Lily's voice was full of sympathy.
"Well, maybe soon you can," he disclosed.
"What do you mean?" James asked.
"The Queen is setting up the floo to allow people through; they're ready to sign and you are, as such, invited to visit the castle."
James's mood lifted in an instant. "That's wonderful news, Harry. When does she want the ceremony?"
"She suggested this afternoon if you're available; it will take a little while yet to get the floo set up to receive people."
"I'll be there. Lil, we can cancel those meetings, move them to tomorrow; Barty won't mind being shunted a couple of days for this."
"Definitely," she practically skipped out of the office to make the arrangements and contact the people whose meetings were being rescheduled.
The welcoming committee were assembled in the private office. Harry, the Queen and a handful of senior courtiers (including Danielle) stood waiting (with a couple of her guards stood inconspicuously in the background as usual) for the arrival of the Minister; the Queen looked resplendent in regal gold and pink robes under her usual ermine outer robe while Harry was surprised to see Gabrielle was also in attendance, wearing the same hue of gold that she had for the trial, though she tried to avoid making eye contact with Harry.
It turned out that Harry was incorrect in his thoughts; as the fire erupted he discovered that his mother had flooed over with her husband, though she admitted (after hugging him to within an inch of his life, much to the Veelas' amusement) that she had really come to see him, having not been able to hug her son since he left on his mission.
"Your Majesty," James began, "may I suggest that we start by reading through the changes made to the treaty during the negotiations?"
The monarch looked questioningly at him for a few seconds before Harry repeated the suggestion in French; her face brightened immediately and she concurred that it would be the best place to start.
Harry took the treaty; a wave of his wand and a "Gemino" later an exact duplicate appeared, which we took and led his parents to a desk where he began to translate the various amendments for James's benefit.
The British Minister nodded as Harry talked him through the wording (Lily sat on her son's other side, arms still around him; some wondered if she would ever let him go). The Veela looked on at the Potters; all seemed well until James suddenly frowned – Harry had reached the part where he promised them access to the shield-charmed robes.
"You shouldn't have done that, Harry," James chided him. "It's a decision that should have been left to me."
"I did wonder about that," his son admitted, "but we're asking them to be our allies, promising to fight alongside them if attacked and they'd just seen these things in action. What do you think it would have meant for negotiations if I didn't offer it?"
"Still, you exceeded your position. You should have left it as a recommendation to the Minister rather than promising it."
"Wouldn't you have offered it?" Lily sounded surprised.
"Of course I would have, but it would have been a bargaining chip for something, or at least earned us some political capital for later on. That's how these things work."
Harry looked downcast, now feeling he'd blown it; the chances of his career moving forward when his father wasn't in charge looked remote. It was an expression that the Queen didn't miss.
"Well, what's done is done," Lily reasoned. "I'm sure if we need something in future, especially if they ever have to use these charmed robes in battle, it will help if they're reminded of it."
James made a non-committal noise with his throat before gesturing that Harry should continue talking him through the treaty.
"Everything seems in order, and acceptable," the Minister noted when they reached the end of the parchment. He stood and walked over to the Queen's desk; the original document sat in front of her.
"We are ready to sign, Your Majesty," Harry relayed; she drew an exotic-looking quill from within the desk and dipped the end in the ink well by the treaty document before signing a looping, flourished signature. She held out the quill; James accepted it and repeated the act, sealing the alliance between the British and the Veela to much applause from the courtiers. The Queen offered her hand; James tried to kiss it but first she tensed her arm enough for him to understand she wished for a handshake to begin with before allowing him his gesture.
"Minister Potter, Mme Potter, please join us for dinner," the Queen invited; after Harry translated James glanced at his wife, who was nodding eagerly, clearly wanting to spend more time with their son. The group headed to the Dining Hall where they saw the Royal Table now sat at the head of a couple of long tables. For the first time in his stay, Harry was invited to the top table; he sat next to his mother, James was on her other side with the Queen next to him. His eyes found Danielle, sitting about a third of the way down one of the tables and she smiled at him before dishes and plates began to appear before them all.
"We must leave now, unfortunately. There is still business to attend to in Britain," James declared once the empty dessert plates had disappeared (Harry again translated). "Your Majesty," he stood; she copied and the rest of the room quickly followed, "I thank you for your hospitality."
"It was our pleasure; we are always delighted to welcome our friends to our home," she replied before leading the Potters back to her office.
"With your permission, Your Majesty," James placed his hand on Harry's shoulder, "I would like Harry to remain here as our interim Ambassador while things progress between our nations." Harry's voice shook with emotion as he repeated the request in French; the Queen raised no objection, instead congratulating a blushing Harry on his new position.
"I hate to leave you again but congratulations, son," Lily told him, hugging him tight. "Come and visit soon?"
"I will, mum. Now the deal's done I'll see if the Queen will permit travel to and from here for me." A quick question to the monarch saw her confirm that Harry would be allowed to travel between the castle and the British Minister's Office by floo. Their security, she explained, could be compromised by allowing further access from other locations at this time, something everyone could appreciate.
"You earned this, Harry," James said as he casually lobbed some floo powder into the fireplace. "Once everything settles down, hopefully we can discuss you being recommended for the position full-time."
"That would be fantastic, thanks dad," father and son embraced before a teary Lily kissed his cheek and followed her husband into the fire and back to Britain.
"You know, Ambassador," the Queen told him, "it is traditional for us to celebrate the signing of a treaty – even more so now you have your new job and will be staying with us."
"What do your traditions involve, Your Majesty?" he asked.
"Firstly," she reached under her desk and produced a bottle of fine wine and two glasses, "I think a small drink is in order." Her idea of a small drink turned out to be a very generous measure of the deep red liquid. "To the treaty," she raised her glass.
"To a new and eternal friendship between our people," he touched his to hers.
"Ambassador, your Minister seemed upset with something while you were discussing the treaty with him. What was the problem?" she asked curiously.
"Oh," he reddened a bit at the memory of his father's words and the knowledge that an audience had seen his dressing-down, even if the language escaped them. "He told me that I'd overstepped the mark in offering you our shielded clothing technology. He rightly said that the offer should have been his to make and not mine."
"Is it that big a problem?" she asked.
"It's the way things are done," he tried to shrug it off. "In the wrong hands this ability could seriously compromise our people and our ability to defend our nation, which is why somebody more senior than myself would usually be the one to decide to make the offer."
She could tell he wasn't revealing the whole truth. "There is more to it than that," she stated flatly; he sighed.
"To offer it to a foreign power… I'm sure you understand, Your Majesty, that things like this can be a basis for negotiation, an ability to get something in exchange."
The Queen looked thoughtful; she could see the Minister's position on not wanting to just give something away but at the same time, the thought of this technology being out there and an ally not letting them have access to it…
"Well if nothing else it has certainly built up some political capital with us," she observed eventually. "Your offer will see future suggestions looked upon more favourably; the Queen topped up both glasses as they had begun to empty them, leaving Harry feeling a little light-headed as he got midway through his second glass, as did his hostess.
"If you will excuse me," she stood; Harry thought she would leave but instead she surprised him by wriggling out of the robes she had worn, leaving herself again in just the ermine outer robe. "It feels strange to be wearing them; I am more used to this attire and much prefer it," she observed, a lifetime of training preventing her from blushing like a schoolgirl as she eyed her young guest.
"I am not complaining," he smirked, the alcohol leading to his rather undiplomatic observation; fortunately the Queen just sniggered as her regal posture was further challenged, "but you may have to get used to wearing it if you have more dealings with national leaders in the future."
"I suppose," she sighed, "but for now I will enjoy one of the traditions of our nation."
As will I, thought Harry, hiding his grin inside his glass.
"Come with me," she instructed, taking his hand once they had emptied their glasses. She led from the office to a corridor he'd not yet traversed and then up an ornate staircase to the top of the highest tower where two Veela stood guard by a set of double doors; the women opened the doors respectfully and the Queen (still holding Harry's hand) led him inside a large and beautifully decorated bedroom. Harry's eyes widened as he really hoped he was reading the situation correctly.
"These are the Royal Chambers," she explained. "I wish us to celebrate the successful negotiations by making love."
"This is one of your traditions?" he asked in shock at her proposition.
"Celebration is traditional; exactly how I choose to celebrate is up to me," she clarified.
The most beautiful woman I have ever seen… well, one of the two, he amended his thought as the image of Gabrielle appeared in his mind's eye; he tried to squash down the thought of the lovely servant, having been taught that fraternisation with serving staff was often considered a serious breach of diplomatic protocol, wishes to sleep with me. "Your Majesty, while I feel unworthy of such an honour, if it is your wish then I will comply," he declared formally; the Queen shocked him further by throwing back her head and laughing; a rich, musical laugh that seemed to settle his nerves and calm his whole body at the sound of it.
"I thought you might," she observed in a teasing voice as she totally abandoned her regal posture. "Now, Ambassador, I believe you should kiss me."
"As you wish, Your Majesty," he grinned, not needing asking twice; he placed his palms gently on her cheeks and leaned in, giving her a passionate kiss. The monarch's arms slipped behind his back, pulling him closer to her as their tongues met in his mouth. They kissed for a few moments before breaking apart for air.
"One of the best kisses I have ever had," the glassy-eyed Queen declared.
"Only one of the best?" Harry asked in mock-horror, part of his brain wondering about who else she might have kissed like that. "I need to fix that," he kissed her again. When they separated again she led him over to her huge bed.
Harry flashed a boyish grin at his lover-to-be. "I hope I'm not about to commit a capital crime," he half-joked before reaching forward and gently removing her crown, setting it on the bedside table; she swept a hand through her silvery-blonde hair and shook it free to cascade down her shoulders and back. Harry then gently undid the bow that held her robe together at her neck; it slid to the floor leaving her completely nude before him.
"I will have to check our laws," she put her hands on her hips and pulled a thoughtful expression. "If you satisfy me I will make sure you are not executed," she added with a smirk.
"I shall endeavour to comply, Your Majesty," he laughed.
"Please, Your Excellency, in this room you should call me Fleur," she told him softly.
"Then you should call me Harry… Fleur," he kissed her once more as she reached up, helping him remove his own robes before they lay down together on her bed. This time, as he shed the enchanted robes, he thought that he would be ready to experience the Veela allure and braced for its impact, however the volume and power of it pouring off Fleur still threatened to render him a drooling imbecile as it washed over him.
"Are you ok, 'Arry?" she asked as she saw his reaction.
"Your allure; it is incredibly powerful."
"I am Queen," she stated matter-of-factedly, "my family has a very powerful allure, more so than most of my subjects."
"That much is obvious," he commented; she giggled again.
"It can have its advantages," she leaned back and let more of her power roll off her. "It is said to dramatically increase a wizard's performance and stamina."
"Then, Your Majesty," he winked as he began to come to terms with the feelings her allure, and her beauty, were subjecting him to, "you shall be satisfied tonight."
"I hope so," she teased back, "or much of your political capital will be lost this night."
Harry chuckled; there was no way he was going to leave this beautiful Veela unsatisfied.
"That was… magnificent, 'Arry," Fleur purred. Rolling over to the side of the bed, she hopped to the floor and walked to a small anteroom (Harry admired the view as she walked away). Queen Fleur soon returned, holding a bottle in one hand and a tray, holding a bowl filled with strawberries and two glass flutes, in the other. "I feel we should celebrate some more while we… recharge," she grinned, "even my allure and your stamina have their limits."
Harry held his tongue; he felt that he could continue but could admit that a short rest would prevent him from passing out in the royal bed, something the diplomat in him could see might not be part of his lover's plan. He took the tray from her and she clambered back onto her bed, popping the cork of the bottle and pouring the sparkling white wine into the two flutes.
"To 'Arry and Fleur," she proclaimed shyly as she picked up her flute, "so much more than political allies."
The statement confused him a little in its vaguery but he touched his glass to hers. "To us," he replied evenly, albeit with a warm smile; after all, with the here and now being so pleasant, he would not worry about the future, leaving it to reveal itself in time. The couple savoured the fruit and drained their glasses before moving into one another's arms to continue the night of celebration.
AN: So yes, Fleur is the Queen (as I think many of you had suspected). Yes, Gabrielle is her sister but no, she's not a servant; Harry just thinks she is.
Many thanks as always for reading this chapter; all reviews are gratefully received. PD
