Disclaimer: The rights to the Harry Potter series go to J.K. Rowling. All original ideas present in this belong to me.

Chapter Thirty-Six | Gaia

The day after the Yule Ball, I expect more stares and whispers, an amount that could possibly trump the hate that I'd seen during the last Tournament. Seems I'm a prophet.

Everyone I pass in the halls seems to stop at the sight of me, looking on with morbid curiosity, wondering what'll come of my decision to come out to the world. Either that, or they're just interested in joining the lynch mob, judging by the shouts and jeers from some of the older Slytherin students.

I guess I'm going to be hearing the word dyke quite a bit.

I push through the wall of silence, the hush that falls over the Hall as I walk into it, making my way over to my usual seat, eager to begin breakfast. The Hall isn't busy yet, as many students are painfully hungover, but I'm quite happy to see Hermione, Luna, Ginny, and last but not least, Fleur, all sitting in a cluster and happily munching away.

"Morning," I mutter tiredly as I take my seat next to Fleur, sipping from the steaming mug of coffee she hands me like a parched wanderer in an oasis. I really like my coffee in the morning, maybe a bit too much.

"Morning," everyone else replies, errantly picking away at their meals, Fleur rubbing my back briefly before returning to her scrambled eggs.

I guess the other girls drank a bit more than I thought they would, as I assume that my sisters are feeling the affects of last night judging by their non-attendance of breakfast. I really can't believe the professors didn't even catch the spiked punch. Either the twins are truly masters of deception, or the staff in this school couldn't give less of a damn over incredibly underage students drinking heaps.

Sixteen? Sure, not the end of the world. Fourteen-year-olds getting pissed? That's a recipe for disaster.

Early, actually quite a bit earlier than normal, a cluster of owls swoop into the Hall, dropping off bundles of newspapers along their way. I reach out curiously, picking up the paper and staring dumbly at the unfamiliar text that springs out at me.

No, not the Daily Prophet. The Ministry Herald. A new paper written by the Fudge regime, started up via the philanthropic help of one Lucius Malfoy. At least, that's what the appendage on the front page says.

I guess he must have gotten the news that I had the Prophet by the balls. Shame.

I scan over the main front-page article, posted after the groveling thanks towards Malfoy and the rest of the pureblood regime, frowning more and more as the words begin to register.

It's something that I would have expected from the Prophet in its heyday, full of mindless vitriol, useless platitudes, and the inherent fearmongering that comes with the territory of politics. Healthy fearmongering, in the politician's eyes, one that won't lead the populace to riot, pitchforks and torches included. No, this kind of fearmongering is the type that directs their hatred towards a useful scapegoat, that being myself and Fleur.

Speaking of which, Fleur has leaned over my shoulder, angrily muttering, "Those petty bastards."

I shrug. "They worked faster than I thought they would."

Girl-Who-Lived a Deviant!

Last night at Hogwarts, the students and faculty were witness to the incredible event of the Yule Ball, a dance in favour of unity between the three greatest magical schools in the known world, a hallmark of the recently resurrected Tri-Wizard Tournament.

Students were not just witness to the ball, nor the incredible events of the First-Task. No, they also laid eyes upon someone that Britain looks up to as something of an idol, acting in unspeakable ways. Yes, I'm talking about the one and only Girl-Who-Lived, Helene Potter.

Helene Potter had made waves through every magical society across the globe for her defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named so many years ago. Her brush with death and survival of the most terrifying of the Unforgivables, the Killing Curse, was a miracle of its own. She went on to shake Britain when it came out that she was in fact not the Boy-Who-Lived, something that was published and professed since that untimely October night in 1981.

Since then, Helene has been outside the public eye, sequestered away at Hogwarts, working diligently as any student would. It was just recently that she re-entered the spotlight, having miraculously slain a Chimera in sight of the world through unknown means during the first task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. When asked, experts within our Ministry were completely unsure of what spell she had used to destroy such a beast, and replied with, "There was no possible way that a girl of her age, let alone ninety nine percent of wizards of any age, could have killed that Chimera through normal means. She's practicing Dark Magic, the Darkest of Dark, and we shall be keeping an eye on her."

Many fear whether or not Helene Potter may go on to take the place of the man she slew a decade and change ago, and even more are worried about her choices now that her predilections have come to light.

Last night at Hogwarts, Helene Potter attended the Yule Ball with her fellow competitor and champion, Fleur Delacour of Beuxbatons, on her arm.

This was not a friendly thing, as some would expect. Two girls going stag to a dance, enjoying themselves without anyone to tie them down, as any teenager or young adult would. No, Helene Potter came to the ball with seedier intentions than that. The two shared touches, those oft reserved for couples, sparking confusion throughout the school. Her deviancy was confirmed when the two nearly rutted in the midst of the dance, the older French girl, a confirmed Veela at that, forcing her tongue down Helene's throat in front of every student there.

When confronted by a young Slytherin fourth year, Draco Malfoy, son of our benefactor, the esteemed Lucius Malfoy, she attacked him and his friends leaving them hurt and bound in the middle of the Great Hall before fleeing, presumably towards the privacy of Delacour's chambers.

As a people, we have to ask ourselves, is this what we want to see from a girl that many witches the world over look up to? Is this what we want for the future of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter? Someone who flaunts their aberrance in front of all to see? Someone who is condemning one of our oldest families to death, plagued by an illness of the mind?

Helene Potter is turning out to be far from what we in Britain expected. Practicing insidious, Dark Magics and brazenly using them in full display of the world. Tainting herself with the touch of another witch, a creature no less.

We at the Ministry Herald say no. No to how Potter has thumbed her nose at our traditions. No to how Potter has contaminated herself with the sickly addiction that is Dark Magic. No to the danger that she poses to our ancient and prestigious society, one founded on the lifeblood of good witches and wizards who have made it their lives work to advance our country to the power that it is today.

We say no.

I fold the paper neatly, incinerating it with but a thought and watching as the ashes scatter across the Hall.

"So… looks like Lucius has made his move," I say, ignoring the gawking students and focusing on my meal. I refuse to show any weakness, and if I react any more than I just did, that would be too much. The more I behave as if I'm unaffected, the easier things will be when I eventually kill the son of a bitch. I know that any public hostility on my part would just encourage an investigation when that happens.

Hopefully I can nail him with that blood turning curse in the graveyard. A poetic end for both him, and Bellatrix.

"Are you not angry? Furious?" Fleur asks, aghast.

"Fleur… I've put up with this shit my entire life. The only thing I'm mad about is the fact that they dragged you into this. That, I can't forgive."

She shakes her head, looking slightly incredulous. "I don't know how you can just… shrug this off," she wonders aloud, hands held out in confusion.

"Like I said, I've put up with it my entire life." I lean in close, whispering, "Honestly, it doesn't really matter in the long run. Things should be done and over with come June, after that, Lucius can get his just desserts if he hasn't met the business end of my wand yet."

She sighs loudly, shoulders slumped in defeat. "I understand that… it just infuriates me that this is the state of your country." She jabs her finger towards an untouched paper angrily. "Britain is such a beautiful place. Why does it have to be such a mess?"

"Inbreeding… political, magical, and cultural stagnation…" I say, ticking off each of my fingers. "That's just a few, but it all comes down to the pureblood dogma."

"Is France that much better? We visited a few summers ago, and we saw so many different types of people and species walking around the magical districts. I didn't know if it was just that area we saw, or if it was the whole country," Hermione asks, jumping into the conversation.

Ginny perks up. "Is France really like that?"

"That sounds like the France that I know," Fleur confirms.

"God… I still can't believe that we're so backwards."

"Hopefully not for long, what with Octavius and Sirius' efforts in the Wizengamot," I add.

Hermione nods. "I know, but… everything that could happen, you know?"

Luna looks over at us, her normally wide eyes slightly narrowed. "A lot things can always happen, you just have to see them through as they come along."

"Always with the words of wisdom, huh Luna?"

She smiles serenely at me. "They're the only things worth saying."

I laugh, turning my attention back to Hermione. "Just try to stay safe, yeah?" I murmur, Hermione inclining her head. "Hopefully by the third task everything will have cleared up."

Fleur puts her hand on my shoulder. "That reminds me, I need to begin preparing for the second and third task. Do you remember that book you were going to help me find?"

I nod. "Yeah, just let me finish with my breakfast, and we can go get that taken care of."

"Book?" Hermione asks excitedly. "What kind of book?"

I open my mouth to speak, but pause. Hermione has no idea that Fleur is like me, and I know I can trust her, but Fleur should be the one to tell her. I put one hand up, asking Hermione for a second as I look at Fleur, putting up a silencing charm around just the two of us. "Hermione knows what I am, do you want to tell her about yourself?"

Her eyes nearly bug out of her head as she gapes at me. "She knows you're a Necromancer? Really?" She looks towards Hermione, who returns Fleur's stare with an expression of confusion, deaf to our discussion. "And she hasn't tried to have you arrested?"

I shake my head. "No, in fact she was key to me putting down Dumbledore and shackling him in the first place."

"There's much more to her than meets the eye, isn't there?" she asks, looking slightly impressed. "I remember her helping the Order with research during the war. She has a quick mind and an interesting way of looking at things."

I smile. "That sounds like her. Did you… did you know her well? After I died?"

Fleur frowns. "No. We'd talked a few times." She hesitates, brow creased. "But she… she was killed a few weeks before I was. Someone had discovered where her and her parents lived… the house burnt down with them inside. They should have been at Headquarters, but we couldn't change the wards to let in her parents since both you and Sirius were dead, so she stayed with them."

I inhale sharply through gritted teeth. That's not going to happen, not if I can help it. I'll kill a hundred Death Eaters before they can get their hands on Hermione. "Do you know who did it?"

She nods sadly, a frustrated look on her face. "Who do you think it was?"

"Malfoy."

Fleur nods. "He's just as dangerous as Voldemort. That man is cunning, disgustingly so."

"I know, he gave a cursed diary to Ginny in her first year, one that contained a shade of Voldemort. It let out the basilisk, Magna, siccing her on the halfbloods and muggleborn. Christ, it was damned lucky that no one died. Everyone ended up petrified."

"That does sound like something he would do," Fleur mutters venomously.

"I think we can both agree that he's a bastard of the highest order." I incline my head towards Hermione. "So? What's your verdict?"

"I'll tell her," Fleur says resolutely.

I expand the silencing charm to accommodate Hermione.

"So… what's going on?" she asks once I've finished, head tilted curiously.

"Fleur? Here, or somewhere else?"

Hermione looks on in confusion as Fleur gets to her feet, beckoning for the two of us to follow.

"Come on," I say, the two of us getting up as well. "Fleur has something to tell you that we can't talk about here."

Hermione grunts tiredly in affirmation, waving goodbye to Ginny and Luna as we head off, quickly making our way towards one of the many abandoned classrooms within the school. In fact, it's the same one in which Fred and George gave me the Marauders Map a few years ago, couches and all.

"So? Why did you have a sudden private discussion? What's going on?" Hermione asks again, crossing her arms.

"I'm an Albumancer," Fleur intones, getting straight to the point. "You know about Helene, yes? We're each others' counterparts."

Hermione's eyebrows climb to her hairline, mouth opening in surprise. "You… what!?" She turns to me, still wide-eyed. "Really? She's the Albumancer?"

I smile happily. "Yeah, really."

"Oh my God!" Hermione squeals, eyes alight as she claps her hands together. "That's so romantic!"

Fleur's mouth opens and closes a few times, like a fish out of water. Her head whips towards me, looking almost offended that Hermione isn't shouting in surprise. "That's what she says? I tell her that I'm an Albumancer, and all she has to say is that it's romantic?"

I laugh loudly, Fleur sighing in defeat. "Well, she already knew that I ran into an Albumancer at the World Cup, she just didn't know that it was you."

"I guess that makes sense…" she mutters, definitely disappointed that Hermione isn't losing her mind.

"Are you looking for a tome that's the same as Helene's?" Hermione interrupts excitedly, looking between the two of us. "I'd love to see it when you're done with it, if you do manage to find something like that."

"You know you won't be able to cast any of the spells, right?" Fleur asks.

Hermione crosses her arms. "Of course I know that, but it would still be interesting to read."

"Well, you might as well come with us, we're off to go search for the thing," I say, Hermione's eyes widening.

"Really?"

"Yep." Hermione jumps at that, even more excited at the prospect of long and forgotten magic. "You've got class, right? Skiving off?"

She nods hurriedly. "Incredible magics that only you two can use instead of Herbology? Are you kidding me? Sign me up!"

"Hey, I didn't want to assume anything," I say jokingly, Hermione huffing quietly in response.

"Of course I'd want to come along! Who do you think I am?"

I put my hands up in surrender. "Hey, I'm just saying." I look to Fleur for back up, and she chuckles quietly.

"Come on, lead the way Helene."

I incline my head, quickly leading us off and through the school, ascending the many staircases until we've reached the seventh floor.

"Why are we in an empty hallway?" Fleur asks, confused. "Is there some sort of secret passage up here? I remember you telling me about those."

I shake my head. "This is something much more impressive. Watch."

I pace three times in front of where the Room of Requirement lays, whispering, "I need to find a book on Albumancy," under my breath with each pass.

Hermione and Fleur both gasp in surprise as the door materializes out of nowhere, Hermione excitedly opening and running through the door before either of us have a chance to follow.

"After you," I say, giving a sweeping bow to Fleur as she enters the Room, giggling at my antics.

"So very kind of you, Mademoiselle."

I trail in behind her, noticing that Fleur's version of the room, at least that's what I'm assuming this is, is a hell of a lot cheerier than mine.

Bookcases line the room, packed to the brim with tomes filled with esoteric, ancient, and modern knowledge on White and Light Magics. There's a large desk situated to the side, similar to the ritual room, parchment, quills, and fountain pens laid across the top neatly. Pristine marble walls surround us, almost radiant in their perfection, Romanesque blind arcades climbing towards the ceiling, light pouring in from the enchanted stone like that of St. Peter's Basilica. The rays are idyllic, like a perfect summer day, filtered through the thin, crisp leaves of a tree that sway gently in an impossible breeze, placed in the centre of the room.

In front of the tree rests a lectern, the parallel of Et Necromantium laid open upon it, its sheer white pages soaking up the sun that trickles in above.

Hermione looks around in awe. "What is this place?"

"The Room of Requirement," I reply, spreading my arms wide and slowly spinning about the room. "It can be anything you want it to be, within reason. I asked it to provide me with a book on Albumancy, and it seems it decided to give me the whole kit and caboodle."

"…kit and caboodle?"

"Yes, kit and caboodle."

Hermione shakes her head in faux exasperation. "So? The book?"

Fleur and I make eye contact briefly, before she walks over to the lectern. She closes the book delicately, reading the cover. "Ars Autem Vivifactor…" She murmurs quietly, fingers running lazily overtop the polished eggshell leather. Somehow, the book still looking remarkably new, the only sign of age being a few crinkles over the thick cover.

Magic, I guess.

Her words register. "Life-Giver?" I ask.

"My Latin is a bit shaky, but I believe that's correct," Fleur answers, tentatively opening the book once more and flipping through to the first page. "At least the book is in French."

I look over her shoulder, frowning. "Looks like English to me."

"Must have a translation charm on it then."

I click my tongue. "Is that really a thing?"

"Helene, it's magic."

I put one hand up. "Hey, I didn't grow up a witch. I'm still figuring out what the limits are." Looking at the hand I raised, I can't help but recall the terribly comfortable cold that swept over it as I leeched the very essence from a patch of grass.

Well, if I can do that with a thought, then an all-purpose translation charm doesn't sound all that complicated.

Hermione joins the two of us, whistling lowly at the book. "That looks much more inviting than Helene's spellbook," she comments. "That thing looks worse than anything you can find in the restricted section, combined."

"Hey! I'll have you know that my spellbook is quite badass," I say indignantly.

"Can a book even be badass?"

I tilt my head, all shoulders. "I'd say so. Hell, for all I know it's bound with human flesh. Wouldn't that be badass?"

Hermione coughs, grimacing at me out of the corner of her eye. "Helene! That's disgusting!"

"I'm not saying that it is bound with human flesh, I'm just saying that it's a possibility." Really, it would make sense, all things considered. Necromancy isn't exactly a tasteful subject at the best of times. At the worst? Well, most of the spells contained within that tome, if used, would be considered war crimes by the ICW.

I frown. Now I have to check and see if the book is made of human flesh. Morbid curiosity has gotten the better of me.

Hermione swallows heavily, while Fleur just sighs. "Enough about that… distasteful subject. I'd like to get a chance to read this, yes?"

"Go for it, I'm going to lay down for a bit, daydream of how I'll make Lucius Malfoy's life miserable in the near future, maybe take a nap," I say, pointing with my thumb towards a massive couch that has appeared just behind me. "Grab me if you need me?"

Fleur kisses me softly on the forehead. "Hermione and I will look over the book, enjoy planning your revenge ma dulcineé."

"Thanks for the words of support!" I hum, collapsing onto the feathered cushions of the sofa.

Christ this is comfortable.

I wonder if I'll be able to plan revenge on this thing, or plan much of anything for that matter. Really, I can't believe how insanely comfortable this sofa is. It's absolutely unreasonable.

I prop myself up, one hand behind my head and tangled up in auburn locks, the other scratching along my belly absentmindedly.

What should I do about Malfoy?

Would it be unreasonable of me to find a way to kill him now? I'm sure I could get into his home with no trouble on my end, but is it a good idea to have him knocked off so soon after he's very obviously begun a smear campaign on me? I mean, if I do that I might as well get up on top of the astronomy tower and scream, 'Hello world! I'm Helene Potter, and if you so much as look at me funny, I'll put you six feet under!'

No, not the best idea.

I'll have to talk to Octavius and Sirius to see if anything can be done politically, but I doubt that anything more can come of their campaign against Lucius and the rest of the Death Eater stragglers. I think they've eked every bit of power they can from both the dark and light voting blocs, as the only ones left in either major party are the diehards, or those too scared to leave.

No, that's not really an option either.

Fuck, do I really just have to sit here and wait until I can end his miserable existence?

That's damned annoying.

I huff loudly, frustrated that I can't go and remove the blight upon humanity that is Lucius Malfoy right this very minute, nor can I even make threats without giving away my ability to bust through wards like they're tissue paper.

I roll over, propping myself up on my elbow and watching as Fleur's hand weaves above her head in some unrecognizable pattern, one of the branches on the tree twisting and contorting to follow her dancing movements.

"That looks useful," I comment, Fleur peeking over her shoulder and smiling winningly at me.

"Oui, it seems I have a touch of control over plants as well."

I raise my eyebrows. "Odd that I can't do that, huh? I mean, I can control the earth, wouldn't a plant loosely fall into that?"

"I don't think so," Fleur answers, shrugging. "Plants are full of life and light magic, even the 'dark' ones," she continues, embellishing her words with air quotes.

"That's no fun. Controlling plants could be ridiculously strong, like some sort of insanely powerful druid."

"Maybe that's where druidism came from?" Hermione adds, a thoughtful look on her face. "I remember you mentioning that what people think is necromancy, isn't, so maybe current druidism is the same?"

"That… that makes an awful lot of sense," Fleur says, sporting a curious frown. "I'll have to do more research on that."

I grunt lazily, swinging back over to a sitting position and resting my elbows on my knees, chin on my fist. "Any other incredibly neat magic in there?"

"Well, there are a couple…" Fleur trails off, flicking through the book to an earlier page, squinting slightly as she scans over the tome. "Should be right about… there!" Wand in hand, she waves it over her head, "Erco, woch'ista-mè."

A glimmering, golden shield erupts from her wand and spreads out around her, resplendent in its glory. My eyes sting, the magic so bright as to be nearly blinding, an aura of indomitable protection pulsing throughout the room, its presence nearly sacred.

Fleur lets out a quiet sigh as she allows the shield to fall, her expression full of wonderment. "That was amazing," she whispers, eyes shining. "It felt like… I can barely explain it…"

"Pure?" I offer, remembering how I reacted the first time that I'd truly felt the affects of Black Magic.

She nods shakily, still awed. "Yes… pure."

"That was incredible!" Hermione shouts, mouth hanging open and her hair looking almost electrified in her excitement. "Is that what you twos' magic always feels like?"

I suck the air through my teeth, shaking my head. "My magic feels nothing like that. To me it feels great, but to others? Dumbledore looked like he was going to be sick when I used my own brand of magic in our duel."

Hermione looks a tad bit depressed at that, but sighs in understanding. "That makes sense." She clicks her tongue quietly. "Do you mind showing me?"

I look to Fleur, who lifts her hands unknowingly. I reflect the gesture, turning back to Hermione.

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you." I jab my wand towards empty space in front of me, and well away from the other two, conjuring a large feathered pillow.

I don't think it would be in good taste to conjure a pig and tear that to bits, so the pillow it is.

"Mortuus manibus," I intone, doing my best to ignore Hermione's flinch as the Black Magic washes through the room, how she shrieks in fright as rotted, gnarled hands burst from an empty void and rip the pillow to fluttering, downy pieces.

With a flick of my wrist, the spell is cancelled, Hermione letting out a tightly held breath, swallowing heavily as she stares in abject horror at the spot where the hell-spawned limbs were just thrashing.

"Get what I mean?"

She nods shakily, pupils like pinpricks and goosepimples standing in sharp relief on her bare forearms. "That was… absolutely horrific," she musters, teeth chattering.

I walk towards her, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. She sighs quietly as she leans into my touch, shivering in revulsion at the display of wrongness that she just witnessed. "I'm going to cast a calming charm on you, alright?" Her eyes flick up to meet mine, and she nods once more.

I swing my wand, Hermione closing her eyes for a few moments as the magic washes over her, replacing the feeling of death with that of serenity, slowly but surely. I can see her tense shoulders relax, jaw unclenching as her nerves settle.

"Fleur, are you alright?" I ask, turning to face her.

She narrows her eyes, looking a touch perplexed. "Yes, I'm fine… much to my surprise. I thought I wouldn't be able to stand your magic, but it feels quite normal to me."

"Huh." I blink a few times, unsure of what to think of that. "I would have thought that you'd be repulsed by my magic… and now that I think about it, I should have been repulsed by yours, shouldn't I?"

Fleur rubs her eyes, tutting quietly. "I thought that's what would have happened, but it seems we're fine." A smile spreads across her face. "That's wonderful! We don't have to worry about each other's magic making us sick, or worse!"

I squeak as she pulls me into a hug, very quickly melting into a puddle of girlish delight as she mashes her lips against mine. I blink, dazed as she pulls away, the shine of her eyes dazzling.

"Woah. What was that for?"

Fleur laughs heartily, pressing a much more chaste kiss to my forehead. "You have no idea what that means, don't you?"

I shake my head, confused, looking over to see a matching expression on Hermione's now sufficiently calmed face. Well, if she has no idea, then I definitely don't. "Haven't a clue."

"If our magic was incompatible, we'd never be able to… well…" her eyes widen, and she slams her mouth shut, blushing furiously.

"What is it?"

Fleur stammers wordlessly for a moment, before covering her face with one hand. "Merde, I believe I've just dug myself a hole." She peeks out from between two fingers, and I raise one eyebrow. Sighing, Fleur uncovers her face. "I've gotten ahead of myself again."

I smirk. "How so?"

She groans, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly with one hand. "I… well, since our magic isn't completely and totally incompatible… we could still- ehm, have a… a child together."

Oh.

I blink stupidly for what must be a solid minute. Just blinking. Stupidly.

So… children, huh?

To be honest, I've never really thought about that before. I mean, I have, sort of, but more along the lines of wanting to have a family, and I guess children tend to be involved in that. Children weren't explicitly tied to that in my mind… I just wanted to love someone and to be loved back. At least, as much as someone of my current mental stature can love someone.

My idea of a family is… what I have now.

Sirius, Octavius, Terra, Daphne, Tracey, Astoria… Hell, I'd consider Hermione, Luna, and Ginny family as well. Sisters in all but blood.

That, to me, is family.

So… children. Not something I ever thought of.

"Helene?"

I blink another few times, remembering the current conversation. My eyes flick over to the side, trying to get Hermione's attention. I curse silently when I realize that she's completely enthralled by what I imagine she sees as an incredibly romantic moment. Red face, wide eyes, and a shocked smile covered by two firmly clasped hands.

I'm not denying that it's an incredibly romantic moment. It is. So that means I have no idea what the fuck to do.

"Ch- children?"

Fleur nods once, a worried look on her face. "Is that… is that alright? I mean, merde, it's not like we're getting married or anything. I just- well, kids are something I'd like some day, yes?"

"No, no, I get it. I get it." I swallow, running my fingers through my hair. "I've just never really planned my future, you know? Family is something that I want, badly, but… my idea of family isn't so traditional- does that make sense?" Fleur shakes her head, so I elaborate. "By family, I mean what I have with Sirius and the Greengrass- God, I'm still not used to saying it, my mum and dad. Daphne, Tracey, and Astoria are my sisters, and I consider Hermione one too. That's family to me. Children… children haven't ever crossed my mind, but I can't say I'm opposed to the idea."

Fleur grins brilliantly, eyes crinkling, before she quickly settles herself, inhaling deeply through her nose and exhaling slowly through her mouth. "That's… that's good. Yes," she mutters, smoothing out an invisible crease on her blouse.

"You two are so fucking cute!" Hermione squeals, clapping frantically as she bounces on her heels.

I can feel the blush creeping along my cheeks as I turn to her. "Thanks, I think?"

"Agreed," Fleur says, smirking at me. "I think that we're 'fucking cute,' as Hermione put it."

"I won't argue with that," I admit. "We are damned cute."

"Fucking cute." Fleur corrects me.

I put my hands up in surrender. "Alright, fucking cute."

She presses a neat kiss to my cheek, humming happily. "I think I should get back to studying that book," she exclaims.

"One second first, yeah?" Fleur tilts her head to the side questioningly. "Second task has changed as well, they've brought in a bunch of Kelpies, a Hydra, a Beisht-Kione, and a Lusca."

Fleur pales dramatically, her normally porcelain skin taking on a more sickly tone. "That's not good," she mutters, mind already racing.

"Not at all, and I believe we should start training together."

"You want to train with me?"

"Of course I do! Who else would I be able to train with? Dumbledore? I think you're the only person in this school apart from him, or maybe Severus or Flitwick, who could practice with me."

"Well, then I'd love to," she says, smiling prettily. "But not today, alright? I'd like to go over that book first. Maybe we can practice this weekend?"

I nod, following her over to the couch, tome firmly grasped in her hands, Hermione sitting in a loveseat across from us and poring over one of the many other books in the room.

We hunker down, mentally preparing ourselves for the upcoming task, and the battles that we know will come after.

-::-

I knock on the door to Severus' office, the grim man allowing me in, a thoughtful look on his face.

"How've you been?" I ask nonchalantly, taking a seat and sipping on the offered cup of tea.

Severus studies me for a moment. "I've been well. What about you? Your… display the other day at the Yule Ball has been discussed to death amongst the staff. How is it amongst the students?"

I shrug indifferently. "I don't have to worry about a large dorm, and Hermione has no problem with me, so it's alright on that front. I just have to deal with the fallout from it as best I can."

"You knew that you would become vilified, yes?"

"Of course I did," I scoff, taking another deep sip from my cup, clearing my throat. "That was the whole point. Now people will focus on my being gay, instead of my accomplishment in the first task. The most serious things are never considered serious. Christ, you see it all the time with muggle news. A war in Croatia? Who cares about that? We've got to talk about the two celebrities that kissed in public!"

Severus nods approvingly. "I didn't know you could be that clever."

"I already told you, Iolaire wanted me in Slytherin. I'm just Slytherin enough that I decided to be a Raven instead," I say, raising my glass.

"Speaking of which, he… it?" Severus scratches his head.

"He."

"Well, he is an interesting man. I never imagined that the Sorting Hat would become my closest colleague here at Hogwarts. Although he does need to learn to shut his mouth every once in a while…" He swirls his tea, gazing oddly at the mug as the liquid dances around. "How much have you changed things?"

I laugh harshly, studying my own drink. "I think I may have changed things too much, and not enough. Everything is going well, but I have no idea where things are going to go once I've killed Voldemort, if I even do manage to time things perfectly with the third task. Will there be a political shitstorm? Will we be able to finally drag Britain into some semblance of normalcy?" I sigh, tapping my fingers along my knee. "I just hope that all the changes I've made come out for the best."

"I believe everything will work out fine, and even if there's some rough patches, you've done more than anyone else could, and would," Severus offers.

I snort. "Is that a compliment?"

He shakes his head, lips quirked. "A compliment? From Severus Snape? They'd never believe you."

I sigh melodramatically. "It would be the best of blackmail material if I had a picture of you smiling. I'd be able to hold that over you until the end of time."

Severus laughs. It's a dry noise, slightly strained, like he's not used to it. Probably isn't. "I'd threaten you, but I don't believe I'd have a good chance at coming out of that duel in one piece."

"Really? I'm sure we'd have a good fair fight."

Severus frowns, looking at me curiously. "You don't quite understand how powerful you are, do you?" I shake my head, and he sets his drink down, fingers steepled under his chin. "You're an immensely powerful witch if you could match evenly with Dumbledore like you did last year. I almost find it worrying that someone so young as you could do such a thing, and it's even more worrying when I realize that you've not even begun to reach your peak."

"Hey, we got lucky with Dumbledore, I can't deny that. I don't think I'd be able to pull something like that off again without the element of surprise."

"I'd have to disagree," Severus intones. I lean back, waiting for him to explain. "After seeing you burn that chimera to nothing, I believe you'd give Dumbledore more than enough trouble. In fact, I'd hazard to say that you'd win that battle four out of five times."

"Really!?"

Severus nods. "Yes, really. Dumbledore is old, very old, and while he's still one of the most powerful wizards around, he's not as powerful as he once was. He's gotten slow, mentally and physically in his old age, and that's crippling for a wizard who specializes in transfiguration and other precise magics like he does."

I narrow my eyes thoughtfully. "I never really thought about it that way. God, I can't imagine what he must have been like in a fight in his twenties."

"He did end a war singlehandedly," Severus offers, and I nod.

"Here's hoping I do the same."

"I have no doubt in my mind that you'll be the one to put the Dark Lord deep into the ground." He raises his glass in a modest salute. "Cheers."

I laugh, clinking my glass against his own and draining the last of the tea from it. "Cheers."

"So, you and Miss Delacour?"

I raise one eyebrow curiously. "Are you asking me about my relationship with her?"

Severus puts his hands up in a calming manner. "Nothing derogatory, I assure you. I was just curious how it all came about. I didn't take you for the kind of witch to be in a relationship with anyone weak, so to say."

I snort playfully. "Well, she's definitely not weak. I'd say she's at about the same level as me." I make sure not to mention the fact that if anyone will be nearly identical in power to me, it would be her. I don't think Fleur would be too happy with me accidentally giving away the circumstances of her strength to Severus.

"Really?" Severus frowns, pursing his lips. "She did deal with the manticore with an ease that I didn't expect from a witch of her age… and now that I think of it, a witch of any age." He looks up at me. "You cast a great shadow over the rest of your competitors, so it passed my mind."

"Yeah? I keep forgetting to ask her how that went. What did she do to kill it?" I ask excitedly, wanting to hear about Fleur in action.

"She used a fire that somehow managed to burn its way through a normally magically resilient creature," Severus says, a tone of contemplation laced through his words. "She didn't use veela fire, nor a standard incendio. It was touch and go for a few minutes, as a manticore is quite agile, but she managed to whittle it down more quickly than anyone thought she would."

"I'll have to ask her about that," I murmur, pretending that I don't know exactly what kind of magic Fleur used. Holy Fire leaves a mark, and I'm surprised she got away with that.

Then again, I did use the flames of Death itself to incinerate the Chimera. That tends to leave an impression.

I can tell that Severus knows that I'm holding something back from him, but he ignores it, much to my relief. "Any plans for the second task?" he asks, continuing with his good-natured interrogation.

"Yeah, I've ordered some gillyweed for it that should arrive in the next few days, and I've updated my repertoire of spells to include ones that function just as well, if not better underwater than they do in air."

"A wise plan, especially the choice of gillyweed. And a simple relashio won't do you any good against a Hydra or the like."

I groan, remembering the awful, awful creatures that have been brought in for the task. "What is it with the Ministry and wanting to have every single one of the contestants die? Really, they have to realize that we're damned lucky everyone made it out of the first task without losing a limb, let alone their lives. Now they bring in these fucking monsters for a task that takes place in an environment that humans aren't at all used to fighting in?"

Severus grits his teeth. "The Ministry is deeply in Lucius' pockets, along with the Board of Governors. What he says goes, and if he wants there to be fifty Lusca's at the event, let alone one, it's going to happen."

"How do you know this?"

"Because the bastard visited me after you had dealt with Draco at the Ball." Severus kneads his forehead, obviously tired of Draco's behaviour. "I don't know how my godson has turned out the way he has, well, no, I do. I just still can't believe that he's Lucius' son. As much as I detest Lucius, I will admit that he's one of the cleverest men I've met in my entire life, and he has to be to properly have a handle on the power he wields. It's a wonder Draco is so unlike him."

I grit my teeth for a moment at the mention of the homicidal blond, shaking my head and tearing the clinging murderous thoughts from my mind. "I still can't believe you're Draco's godfather. How did that end up happening?"

Severus wets his lips, a far away look on his face. "Narcissa was one of the prefects when I was at Hogwarts, five years above me. She was one of the few kind people in Slytherin, even when the war had just begun, and no one knew where anyone stood yet in Slytherin." He smiles slightly, his whole demeanor softly announcing his bout of nostalgia. "She was something like an older sister, and when a few of your father's… pranks, went awry, she was always there to help me with the counterspell."

I cringe, remembering how much of an arse my dad was as a teenager. God, I probably would have found him absolutely infuriating to be around.

"After she graduated, we kept in contact. I attended her and Lucius' wedding, and I was brought under his wing." His eyes flick towards his left arm in revulsion. "He filled my mind with poison and lies, and when things fell to pieces with your mother, I went to him for support. Throughout all that, Narcissa and I stayed good friends. When she fell pregnant, she asked me to be godfather to the child, and I was more than happy to accept."

Severus sighs quietly, pushing his mug off to the side and clasping his hands together, thumb rubbing along the crook of the other. "Now she's changed. She's no longer a kind woman and has adopted the same terrible attitude of her husband, whispering the same vile words in her sons' ear that he does." He curses under his breath, nostrils flaring. "What could have been a bright and friendly boy has been reduced to a blithering, boorish idiot, nothing but yet another unfortunate statistic to add to the pureblood way of life."

His eyes meet my own, and while mine are filled with curiosity, his hold only muted sadness, like something once used to hurt him, and now he's simply remembering that pain. An echo. "He used to be a nice boy, friendly, and just so incredibly curious." Severus lets out a slow, steady breath. "And now? He's just an unintelligent clone of his father. All the pomp, and none of the brains. I'd be happy with his lack of foresight if he wasn't so cocksure and churlish all the time."

I look down at the table, all of a sudden fully aware of the fact that Malfoy could have just been a regular kid, if not for the unfortunate circumstances of his parentage. God, I can barely imagine if he had ended up my friend that first day here. What if he was kind to me? Such a small change could have made all the difference in the world. Just one little thing, a flip of the coin, and bam, everything has changed.

Makes me wonder even more how much things differ now because of my actions. I know I just discussed that with Severus, but it honestly worries me a bit more than I let on. What if I've somehow done something to make Voldemort more powerful? What if Sirius still ends up dead? What if other people, more people end up dead than otherwise?

I sincerely hope that these are only worries, and don't come to pass, otherwise I'm going to be in for a hell of a ride, probably honest to god war, not just a series of lazy skirmishes and one big final battle.

"I'm sorry that Draco behaves the way he does… it must be painful for you."

Severus shrugs lazily, but the gesture still carries that note of melancholy. "I've come to terms with it. People not meeting your expectations is one of the things that happens in life, and its something everyone must become accustomed to."

"Yeah, tell me about it," I complain, my thoughts now drawn to Padma's ridiculous behaviour.

I think I may just completely cut her off, but at the same time, I don't want to make Lisa feel distanced from the rest of us. It's an odd thing to juggle, but it's not like it's a big deal. I mean, shit, Padma is fourteen. It's not like I've decided to dismantle a decade long friendship.

"What's been bothering you?" Severus asks, his demeanor shifting slightly into that of a mind healer, reminding me of the first few times we chatted together.

I still can scarcely believe that Severus Snape has become my favourite professor. What a world we live in.

"I'm trying to figure out what the responsible thing to do is when it comes to a friend suddenly becoming… hostile, is the best word. I'm probably just going to explain that I'm not interested in talking to her and cut her off."

"Probably a smart thing to do. Does this have to do with your relationship with Miss Delacour?"

"Yeah."

"Well, that's all you can do, really. If someone is so petty as to be hostile towards you over such a small thing, then there's no point in keeping them around."

I smile at him. "Thanks Severus, who knew you could be such a socially conscious guy?"

He scoffs quietly, rolling his eyes. "All Slytherins are socially conscious. It's how we work."

"Did we not just talk about how Draco doesn't behave as a Slytherin should?"

Severus sighs in annoyance. "Well, outside of him and his little gang, Slytherins are inherently socially conscious people."

"Whatever you say," I jibe, setting my glass down. "Thanks for the chat Severus, make sure not to slaughter any first years, alright?"

He chuckles quietly as I leave the room. "I'll try my best, but I make no guarantees."

A slow chapter, mostly exposition. I think that a nice blend of paladin and druid for Fleur is going to be kick ass.

Erco, woch'ista-mè: Heavens, protect me. (Proto-Gaelic)

notYacob: Hail! Hail the supreme danger noodle!

DALucifer13: No, I think that's the extent of her fancy, deathly powers when it comes to an actual physical skill. I don't want to have way too many things tacked on to the point where there's an absolute clusterfuck of powers and other miscellaneous abilities.

DocTrench: Anything that is changed, must have a reason behind it. I do my best to make sure that there's no blind change, and that the reader can see the build up or decision making behind it.

Ontril86: No Rita, don't you worry yourself.

Devilsummoner666: Helene is pronounced just as you would Helen, I just thought slightly fancy spelling would work into the Harry Potter universe a bit easier.
And for the 'what does it mean' thing, you're just going to have to read and find out! No spoilers!

MG1450: Shit happens, and I'm quite surprised that it took this long for the homophobes to come out of the woodworks. And I'm glad you've picked up on that. Helene has the potential to be evil, but she's not the kind of person to be evil, and Dumbledore is starting to discern between the two.

rfpizzle: Shit, that would be hilarious, but it'd also be the biggest 'fuck you' I can imagine to everyone reading, so unfortunately, I'll have to pass on that idea.