AN: I've been trying to stay away from these, but I've made a change to the story that I didn't want to confuse people.
Harry has grown, but is not as tall as Fleur now. When they'd first met up again in Hogsmeade, I'd said that he could look her straight in the eye, but Lifeisagreatadventure helped me realize I didn't really want him to grow that much.
There is also some straight-up google translate French in here. If it is super wrong, please let me know and I will fix.
Hope you enjoy.
XxXxXxXxXxXxX
After his second French lesson, Harry and Fleur's conversation drifted back to the school and his odd encounters with their new Professor. He felt the warm contentment he'd been enjoying falter as he began talking about the woman.
"Something is off with her," he said. He thought back to the handful of short after-class meetings he'd had with the woman. "Everything about the way she talks just...rubs me the wrong way. And she won't stop trying to get me to the Ministry. She keeps talking about how the Minister wants to talk to me, and how good it'll be for me." He paused, shrugging. "I've met the Minister. A few times. It's really nothing special."
"A sentiment that will likely extend to most other government figures as well," Fleur said, a measure of contempt in her voice. "Not all, but many are accustomed to the power their positions bring and are out of practice when it comes to accepting the opinions of others."
"That sounds like Fudge," Harry agreed. "But it's not quite the same with her. Fudge doesn't try as hard to cover the fact that he is what he is. With her...she's not good at it, but she's trying really hard to seem friendly which makes it seem...I don't know...sinister."
Fleur's single eyebrow raised, and Harry saw the spark of a familiar anger flare in her blue eyes.
"I know I have said it a thousand times, but be careful around that woman. I have no doubt that she is only interested in you for your status, and the status you can bring her. I do not know what role this group of hers plays in that, but I cannot imagine it is any good. Not to mention her abhorrent ability to teach you an incredibly important class since Voldemort has returned."
Fleur paused, her eyes widening.
"Speaking of which," she said, some of the heat had left her voice. "I may have thought of a way for me to help your special study group."
Harry sat up straighter. He was happy to pass along whatever Dumbledore showed him, but having a more experienced person to help him with it would certainly help put some of his nerves to rest.
"Your invisibility cloak," she said, nervous excitement painted across her face. "Remember? It can completely keep my abilities from affecting people. I could be there to help, I would just be...invisible. If you do not mind me using it, that is."
Harry nodded eagerly.
"You can use it whenever you need to," Harry said. "I trust you to take care of it. But how are we going to get you into the castle? I don't think they'll just let you come visit."
"That is something we will have to figure out," she said. "Or rather, something you will have to figure out. In the meantime, I can work on ideas that we can teach people in case Dumbledore's lessons are more theoretical to start."
"'Dumbledore?'" Harry asked, grinning. "It was always 'your Headmaster' or something similar to that before."
Fleur blushed, pulling her new blanket up to her chin.
"We have been working together a lot at the Ministry when he is there," she mumbled. "He keeps trying to get me to call him Albus...but I cannot."
Harry laughed at the image, causing Fleur to pout before her eyes narrowed mischievously.
"He has a lot of good things to say about you, you know," she said, turning the tables and grinning as Harry's cheeks instantly grew red at the praise. "Once he found out that I knew about your...less than standard years at Hogwarts, we began to take our short lunches together. He also wanted to thank me for helping you and told me how impressed he was with your resilience and capacity to love, even after everything. He said with the kind of dedication and willpower you are capable of, he is excited to see your growth."
"I'm...that's not…" he tried, his face burning as Fleur's smile turned a little shy.
"It is all true," she said, matter-of-factly. "I am...a little sorry...for embarrassing you like that, but what he said has been on my mind, and I have been unable to find a better way to express my own thoughts about everything."
She looked away from him, his wide green eyes and the sudden wave of nervous focus in his sense making what she wanted to say even harder.
"I agree with him wholeheartedly," she said sincerely. "I am not sure I would still be standing and fighting if I had gone through everything you have. You are...inspiring, Harry."
Her eyes shot back over to him as she felt his sense explode. Many of the emotions pouring from him she could identify, but there were many she could not. There were a number of warm ones that seemed familiar but weren't quite the same as the ones that she knew. Deep below everything, she felt the same roiling undercurrent that she'd felt when she'd found him in the kitchen. It was far fainter than it'd been that night, but it was unmistakable.
"I'm not...all of that," he whispered, finally mastering himself.
"You are to me," Fleur replied simply, focusing all her attention on him. He wouldn't be Harry if he was big-headed about all the times he persevered through seemingly insurmountable obstacles, but she wanted him to see himself through her eyes for once. Not for the first time she wished their positions were reversed, and he could sense her, just so he'd understand.
She saw him fidgeting, the disagreement begging to be let out.
"It is okay if you do not think so," she said, her voice gentle. "What is that old saying? 'The eyes of a friend are the truest mirror?'"
She saw his argument fizzle, and finally, vanish as he sagged in the chair in defeat.
"It's just hard to imagine that someone like you would think I'm much of anything, let alone...inspiring."
Fleur felt an all-too-familiar twinge of anger that she ruthlessly crushed. It was Harry she was talking to, he wouldn't mean it in that way.
"Someone like me?" she asked, being sure her voice was calm and friendly.
He looked up at her in surprise, the blush returning to his cheeks.
"You're brilliant," he said finally, gesturing over to where his message paper lay on the nearby table. "You created that, which is incredible. You were chosen as the top in your school for the tournament, which you won," he grinned slightly, stalling her correction. "And you withstood Voldemort after transforming back from your other form, something a lot of people can't do at the best of times."
He shrugged self-consciously.
"You're great," he continued when Fleur's look of wide-eyed surprise didn't waver. "That's why it's so strange to hear you say those things."
"Well, get used to it," Fleur said, finally regaining some control over herself. It was the first direct compliment he'd ever given her, and she was positive he could hear her heart hammering away in her chest. To hear such praise from someone who had gone through the same was...uplifting.
A knock at the door made them both start, pulling them from their embarrassed silence.
"It's closing time," came Madam Rosmerta's muffled voice through the thick door.
"Thank you!" Fleur said loudly before turning back to Harry. "It seems that we are out of time."
"Yeah," Harry said, looking out the window into the night. It hadn't felt like they'd already been talking for hours.
"When is your next Hogsmeade weekend?" Fleur asked, folding her blanket as she stood.
"I'm not sure," Harry said, walking over to the table and grabbing his paper. He tapped his side with his wand, causing the message to vanish. "Hopefully there's at least one more before Christmas."
"Hopefully," Fleur agreed, holding the blanket close to her front and shivering. "I love Christmas, but cannot stand the winter," she said, another shiver traveling up her body. "No matter how heavy the robes," she lifted her large thick winter cloak, and let it fall back to her side, "I am always cold." She pulled her wand from inside her cloak and waved it over herself, muttering. "It will undoubtedly be cold in my apartment when I apparate back."
"I don't like apparating," Harry said, folding his paper and sliding it in a pocket. "It's so uncomfortable."
Fleur turned to him, another teasing smile resting on her lips.
"Is it?" she said, affecting a thoughtful expression. "For me it is rather warm and comfortable."
"Is it really?" Harry asked, surprised. "How come?"
Fleur shrugged.
"It is that way for all Veela, but none of us know why. Just lucky I suppose."
"Remind me to slide-along apparate with you from now on."
Fleur shook her head.
"You would feel the same crushing cold as you always do."
Another insistent knock at the door cut their conversation short. Fleur set her blanket on the table next to her boxes of chocolates and held open her arms.
Harry nodded, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around her middle. He felt the warmth from her suffuse his body, driving out the chill he'd begun to feel creeping in once they had stepped away from the roaring fire. She put her arms around his shoulders and held on tightly, the strength of her grip surprising him.
He let her hold onto him for a while, enjoying the comfort her hugs always engendered in him. After a moment of silence, and no movement from Fleur, he finally spoke.
"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.
He felt her nod against his shoulder and step back, releasing her grip on him.
"I just...really needed that," she said, her voice tired. "Thank you, Harry."
"If you need one," he said, "you can just do it. You...er...don't need to ask anymore."
Fleur stood still for a moment, her eyes wide, before she smiled her brilliant smile, and swept him up in another hug.
"Thank you," she whispered, stepping back. "That means a lot."
She gathered her things from the table and walked to the middle of the room.
"I will talk to you soon," she said. "Goodbye, Harry."
"Goodbye, Fleur," he answered, watching as she turned on the spot, a small 'pop' following her disappearance, the noise not quite filling the hole she'd left behind.
XxXxXxXxXxXxX
The week following the Hogsmeade visit proved Fleur's admonition about Umbridge true. The introduction of the Inquisitorial squad had been met with awkward silence following dinner, save for the Slytherin table, which comprised most of the members of the new group.
Harry stared wearily at the Slytherin table as they cheered, his eyes drawn to the handful of students not joining in with their peers. To his surprise, sitting near to the end of the table with his chin resting on his hand, was Malfoy. Harry had been almost sure that Malfoy hadn't come back to Hogwarts until he had seen him in their first joint potions class. The usually insufferable git had been withdrawn and quiet, not once antagonizing Harry as he had done each year previously. Harry had been tempted to figure out why but wasn't interested in breaking the pleasant streak of Malfoy-less days.
"This is what she wanted you for?" Hermione asked, confused. Umbridge stood at the head table, addressing the school, detailing the role of the Inquisitors, which seemed to be some extension of her strange obsession with bringing 'order' to the school.
Harry shook his head, just as confused as his friend.
"I don't know. She seemed to talk more about the Ministry than whatever this is. Fleur thinks she's trying to use me for some sort of weird political gain."
"Makes sense," Ron added. "Dad said she's the Undersecretary for the Minister. Apparently she works closely with Fudge, but doesn't quite have the political power of the Department Heads or the members of the Wizengamot. If she wants to seem competent, getting you to be some sort of spokesperson for her at the Ministry would go a long way."
"Ugh," Harry groaned, the idea turning his stomach.
"Think of the Inquisitorial Squad as an extension of your wonderful prefects," Umbridge said, the sickly sweet tone catching Harry's reluctant ear. "Where the prefects are here to keep order within their houses, the inquisitors will be there to enforce continuity between faculty, and student leadership."
An audible groan sounded through the great hall, a number of small conversations breaking out across the various tables.
"She just created a new level of leadership that answers only to her," Hermione whispered frantically. "That is not good for our study group."
"It's not like we were going to ask permission," Ron muttered, his eyes locked on Umbridge. "So long as she or her little group doesn't find out, who cares? Besides," he added with a grin, "Dumbledore is still the only one who can expel us, so you don't have to worry."
Hermione tried to look put-out, but her features quickly returned to their nervous state.
"For now," she said, turning to Harry. "Have you and Fleur figured out how to get her help? It really seems like we can use all the experience we can get."
Harry looked around at the crowded hall, the conversations drowning out their own quiet one now that Umbridge had finished speaking. Even so, he lowered his voice and leaned in closer.
"We're going to use the invisibility cloak."
"How's that going to work?" Ron asked frowning. "We won't be able to see the person who's got us under her allure?"
"The invisibility cloak blocks her abilities," Harry explained, quickly bringing his friends up to speed on the Hogsmeade visit the year before that lead to the discovery. "We just need to find a way to get her into the castle."
"Couldn't she just apparate to Hogsmeade and walk up to the castle under the invisibility cloak?" Ron suggested.
"But how do we get her the cloak each time?" asked Hermione. "We'd draw a lot of attention from the new 'Inquisitors' if one of us is wandering out to Hogsmeade and back once a week."
Further discussion was cut short as students began to rise from their seats to return to their dorms.
"We'll figure something out," Harry said, following his friends from the Great Hall.
XxXxXxXxXxXxX
I told you she was up to something! I cannot believe Dumbledore is allowing this. I will ask him about it tomorrow and talk to my father as well. It is hard to believe that there is no system to prevent such a strange takeover by the Ministry. Have you had any success figuring out a way into the castle? It will be important now more than ever that we make sure as many people as possible are getting the education they need. Or at least a better one than that woman is providing.
Harry saw angry splotches of ink appear on the page before the whole thing disappeared.
I am sorry, but I am furious . This is reminding me so deeply of the Louvre that I cannot think straight. I just want to apparate over there…
We'll get it figured out. I promise. As soon as we can figure out a way to get you in here, we can get the lessons started. It won't be like what happened to you. We won't let it.
Fleur's side of the paper sat empty, leaving Harry to hope he hadn't been too presumptuous. He let out a deep sigh of relief when a few minutes later words began to trace themselves across his paper.
Thank you, Harry. I know you are right, but I am having some trouble calming down. I am sure I will be okay after a good night's rest. I do not want to make you uncomfortable just because I am too hot-tempered.
Harry chewed on the end of his quill, unsure how to reply. If they'd been in person, it'd have been easier. He'd never been good putting his thoughts down into words.
You're not going to make me uncomfortable.
Fleur pushed the paper away from in front of her, tears falling quickly as she finished reading Harry's sweet reply. She knew he was telling the truth, but how could she describe the tornado spinning through her with simple words on paper? How would she be able to tell him that she heard the not-so-distant avian call, begging to clean up a mess that his teachers refused to fix? How could she tell him that no matter how strong, or persuasive the call, her hands trembled in fear as she heard the lock of iron around her ankles, and felt her scars burn anew?
She rubbed her bare feet together under her blanket, reassuring herself that she was not bound in that horrible cage. She took a deep breath, focusing on suppressing the fire she felt building inside. Her new apartment wasn't nearly as enchanted as her parent's home was, and doubted she could afford it if she burned the building to the ground in a fit of fear and rage. Once she felt calm enough, she pulled the paper back in front of her and grabbed her quill.
I know. Thank you.
Let me know what you find out. I am going to go relax and try to get some sleep. You should do the same. Talk to you soon! Let me know if you figure out how I can get in there to help you with your lessons!
Goodnight. Take care.
XxXxXxXxXxXxX
November came quickly and decided to set up camp, each day seeming to take twice as long as necessary to finish up and roll over into another impossibly long day. Dumbledore's next two lessons had been reviews of the basics, and a demonstration of his methodology by having Harry envision protecting different people with his shield charm. It had been an effective lesson, though not one that had taken very long to relay to Ron and Hermione, leaving their small group with little to do but brainstorm ways to get the word out and get Fleur inside the castle to help.
The first break in monotony had come by owl one morning, a small letter tied to its talon, Harry's name written along the front in unfamiliar handwriting. He set his breakfast aside and opened the letter.
Harry,
I am sorry it took so long. This year at Beauxbatons has been difficult. I have not had much time to translate.
I hope your lessons with Fleur are going well. She told me you are learning quickly. I am a little jealous. It is boring to just learn from a book.
This is all I have. Even after two months. If I have to translate for another night I am going to go crazy. I hope this small letter is okay.
-Gabrielle
Harry folded the letter, a grin on his face. Despite her stilted sentences, she had made real progress from the minor English skills she'd had over the summer. He could only hope his letter was as coherent.
He started his letter that evening, the act of translating his words a welcome distraction to both himself and Fleur, who helped him nightly with questions he had. It had taken the better part of a week, but he was nearly finished.
How would you say 'gift'?
You do not remember from our lesson after I opened mine? We used my blanket as an example.
Cadeau?
Well done!
Fleur set down her quill, lifting her cup of steaming cocoa into her hands, letting the warmth bleed through her frigid fingers. She took a sip, letting her gaze wander from Harry's questions and out towards Paris. A thin veil of snow fell, nearly obscuring the lights of the city from view. She stared out into the snowfall, her thoughts drifting back to Harry, as they often did since he'd come to stay with them over the summer. It was hard to believe that it had been only a year since their first discussion in that drafty classroom.
She had only wanted to have a friend. Someone she could talk to about the mundane things in life like she saw all of her old friends doing. She hadn't asked him to that classroom to become one of the most important people in her life.
She exhaled a small laugh at the thought. It wasn't hard to be an important person in her life when there were so few. But even still…
She sighed, her breath pushing away the steam from her mug. She took another sip, glancing quickly down to the paper to see if Harry had replied. She pursed her lips when she found the paper empty, Harry presumably hard at work on his thoughtful letter to her sister. Fleur shook her head, her mind again replaying his kind words to her after she'd bumbled her way through her compliment to him.
She'd watched him rise to his feet to face the darkest wizard in recent memory, not once, but three times, while she could do nothing but sit there, calling in vain to a fire inside her that had been completely used up. She had tried to rise, to shift into her avian form when she'd been released from the gravestone, but she'd only fallen to the dirt and given a brief moment's respite before the suffering began.
She shuddered, taking another calming drink of cocoa as she forcefully removed herself from the memories. Another message awaited her, one that caused her heart to sink down into her stomach.
I'm done with my letter. I asked Ron about Hogsmeade visits. There won't be any more until after Christmas.
Fleur wasn't sure if she was projecting her own immense disappointment, but she was almost positive she could see unhappiness in the way his words appeared on the page. She picked up her quill and set to writing something that would cheer him up.
That is heartbreaking.
She almost examined her quill to see if it'd been jinxed. Though not untrue, she'd not really meant to put it into words. She had made a routine of bundling up in her extra warm blanket each night to help him work on his letter. She didn't want to push him away with how much she actually wanted to talk to him.
It is. Christmas seems like a long way off.
Another wave of affection for Harry swelled in her as more of her fears were put to rest, and he didn't even know he'd done it.
I'm looking forward to it
I was thinking about it and had an idea.
Fleur waited for his reply, patiently at first, but as the minutes dragged on, she nearly flipped the paper over to demand he end the suspense. She made an effort to calmly turn the page over and gently prodded him on.
What is it?
Well, you know I like to cook, so I thought if your apartment had a big enough kitchen, I could put together something for us to eat.
Fleur glanced down the hall, her tiny kitchen practically unused. It'd be nice to have someone in there. Might make it feel more...homey. It'd be nice to have Harry in there.
She turned away from the kitchen, the ghost of her mother's words drowning out those thoughts.
It's pretty small. Were you wanting to make dinner, or just something small?
Small shouldn't be too much of a problem. I'll just have to be smart about how I do things. I was planning on dinner, but I can do something small too.
Fleur grinned down at the paper, her quill in hand. She giggled lightly as she began to write, accepting her first-ever invite to dinner while sitting under a blanket in her pyjamas. Even if it was in her own apartment.
Dinner sounds great. I'm looking forward to it even more.
XxXxXxXxXxXxX
Gabrielle jolted upright in her chair, an insistent tapping on her window startling her from her classwork. She stood, and quickly crossed the large living area of the private quarters, opening the window to allow the owl entrance. Her melancholy frown broke out into a grin as a familiar snowy owl landed on her windowsill and peered up at her.
"Hedwig!" she exclaimed. " Entrez. Vous laissez le froid à l'intérieur!" (Come in, you're letting the cold inside!)
With a quick flap of her wings, Hedwig soared from the windowsill across the room to the desk. Gabrielle quickly closed the window, shivering at the chill touch of the near-winter air. She returned to her desk and removed the letter tied to Hedwig's leg. Across the front, in an untidy script, was her name. She grinned as she opened the letter.
Gabrielle
C'est d'accord! Avoir un tuteur est plus facile que d'apprendre par vous-même. Je suis vraiment impressionné! Votre lettre était facile à lire. J'espère que le mien est presque aussi bon que le vôtre.
Cette année à Poudlard a également été difficile. Au moins, il n'y a pas eu de tournois surprise!
Je voulais vous demander votre avis sur quelque chose. Sirius et moi venons pour Noël. Pouvez-vous penser à un cadeau que vos parents aimeraient? Je sais déjà ce que je reçois toi et Fleur. Avez-vous un dessert préféré? J'allais en apporter un avec moi.
Ma lettre n'est pas beaucoup plus longue. J'espère qu'il est aussi lisible que le vôtre!
-Harry
It's okay! Having a tutor is easier than learning on your own. I'm really impressed! Your letter was easy to read. I hope mine is close to as good as yours.
This year at Hogwarts was also difficult. At least, there were no surprise tournaments!
I wanted to ask your opinion on something. Sirius and I are coming for Christmas. Can you think of a gift that your parents would like? I already know what I'm getting you and Fleur. Do you have a favorite dessert? I was going to bring one with me.
My letter is not much longer. I hope it is as readable as yours!
Gabrielle set the letter down and turned to Hedwig, who waited patiently on the edge of the desk.
" Il faudra un certain temps avant que j'aie une réponse si vous souhaitez revenir en arrière. Je suis désolé," she said, rising from her chair and walking back to the window. She opened it, allowing Hedwig to fly from the room, and out into the evening sky. (It will take some time before I have an answer if you want to go back. I am sorry)
Once she'd sat back down at her desk, she reread Harry's letter, a smile on her lips as she finished reading. It was nice to receive such a normal letter, even if it was a little stilted. She'd missed the small conversations she'd had with her friends before this year. Before she'd had to be sequestered almost all the time because of her abilities.
It wasn't like she completely minded her time alone, it was certainly better than being around so many people while she still...figured it out. Fleur had warned her what it would be like, but nothing could have quite prepared her for the sudden rush of 'noise' once her abilities had become permanent. She'd expected it to happen overnight, to wake up one morning and go to breakfast to find a number of eyes on her and a wall of emotion that she couldn't decipher.
She hadn't expected to suddenly be able to sense the people in her Herbology class, the boys nearest to her dropping the tools they were working with and standing from their stools to try to come to talk to her. She'd been so surprised she'd told them to sit back down. She grimaced at the memory, wishing she'd remembered her mother's warnings from one of their first talks. Instead of returning to their seats, the boys saw an opportunity to gain her attention by doing as she asked, and all of them sat directly on the dirty floor of the greenhouse.
Gabrielle had to stay in her room after that, a tutor coming up for each class and working through the classwork with her. It had been unbearably lonely at first, even with the regular letters she would send to Fleur and receive in return. It was nice to have someone that could share little tricks for getting out of the room, and down to the kitchens if necessary, or out to the fountain in the evenings for a breath of fresh air. Even though her letters were welcome, not to mention useful, it had become more and more difficult to start another letter to her sister. She'd known for a long time Fleur would eventually graduate, move out, and start working on a career, but now that it had happened...she just seemed so far away.
Gabrielle set Harry's letter atop a small stack of letters from Fleur and returned to her classwork, the mind-numbing report in her French Magical History class a welcome counter to lamenting her situation.
XxXxXxXxXxXxX
The end of November saw Harry's first intense lesson with Dumbledore.
"That is enough!" Dumbledore called, allowing Harry a brief rest.
Harry doubled over, clutching the stitch in his side. Casting stunners all day would be no problem, it was the running that he had to do at the same time that was wearing him out.
"You are getting better at casting the stunner quickly, but it is not yet muscle memory," said Dumbledore.
A pair of chairs rose from the stone floor and Harry gratefully sank into his.
"I feel like I could cast stunners in my sleep, Sir," Harry said, his breathing finally coming under control.
"Indeed, however, I can see that you are still thinking before you cast. Your reflexes are excellent, and you are quick to react and cast, but it is not yet automatic. There is a moment where you recall the wand motions and focus your mind before casting the spell. That moment is what we are trying to eliminate. Once you are able to achieve that with a single spell, it will become easier to do with others. Understanding spells on such a level is incidentally the first step to non-verbal magic."
Harry's head snapped up to stare to Dumbledore.
"We're going to work on non-verbal magic?" he asked.
"That is my hope, yes," Dumbledore said, nodding. "Should you find yourself in the midst of Voldemort's supporters once again, the surprise of a non-verbal spell from someone your age could be what you need to get safely away."
A small smile lifted Dumbledore's whiskers as he adopted a far-off contemplative look.
"Were I to be teaching more students than just you, I do not think I would be able to focus on non-verbal casting, and instead would focus on removing that moment of thought." He refocused on Harry, his genial smile still in place. "But, alas, I am not."
Harry stared at Dumbledore for a moment, confused. Surely there was no way anyone could hear them in the room of requirement, so why was he being so circumspect?
"If you were…" Harry began, following the Headmaster's strange lead, "teaching a bunch of people advanced magic like that. You would probably need some help, right?"
"Oh, very much so," Dumbledore replied. "This room can create almost anything you need, but it cannot create an assistant."
Harry nodded uncertainly, hoping he was understanding the Headmaster.
"Let us get back to it," Dumbledore said, pulling his wand from his sleeve. "Watch closely."
XxXxXxXxXxXxX
"I've...never seen anything like it," Harry said as he led Ron and Hermione up the stairwells to the seventh floor. "Well...once before I suppose, but this was different."
"Exactly when have you seen someone throwing stunners like they were breathing?" Ron asked with a laugh.
"In the graveyard," Harry answered quietly. "But it was different."
Hermione glared at Ron, who shrugged sheepishly.
"What was it like?" she asked. "Not the whole thing," she added, "but what was it like to see him really fight?"
"It was...impossible to follow," he said as they turned the final corner to the hall with the secret entrance to the room of requirement. "One second they were facing off, the next…" he shook his head. "I can't describe it really. There were so many spells, and he would transfigure parts of the ground and gravestones to block killing curses. He got Voldemort across the face with a spell, and that was pretty much it."
He stopped talking and paced in front of the empty wall, his mind focused on the room he'd used with Dumbledore just hours before. After the third pass, the door appeared, and they stepped quickly inside, the door vanishing behind them.
"Have you had any ideas about who we can get to join?" Hermione asked. Her head swiveled back and forth, her eyes darting from practice dummy to practice dummy in the long narrow room.
"I'm sure most of the Gryffindors would do it," Ron said. "I know Fred and George would. Angelina would come along with Fred. So long as they don't have practice anyway."
"This is more important than Quidditch," she huffed.
"I know," Ron said, "but they don't know about You-Know-Who. I can't believe Dumbledore hasn't said anything, even if the Ministry is being a pain about it."
"I asked him about it," Harry said. "He had told me I'd probably have to go in to give my memories once he was able to bring his case forward, but it still hasn't happened, so I asked.
"He just told me that he and Fleur are still working on the final part of the process to go over Fudge's head. I guess the Minister went on vacation for a bit and came back rested enough to be a bigger pain in the arse than he had been."
"Voldemort's just going to gather more people to him while they sit around and do nothing," Hermione said quietly.
"Well, we won't," said Harry. "We'd better get started."
Harry ran the course alongside his friends, continuing to practice the way Dumbledore had instructed. He kept an eye on Ron and Hermione, correcting where necessary, doing his best to explain the concepts he'd struggled with just hours before.
He eventually called a halt to their exercise, allowing Ron and Hermione to collapse gratefully into their now customary three-chair configuration.
"I'm sorry you guys," Harry said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "You're getting a little better, but not a lot. I don't know how to explain it like Dumbledore did. He just made it make so much sense."
"You're good at showing," Ron said, his breathing finally starting to slow. "Not so much at explaining, sure, but we can learn by watching too."
"He's right, you know," Hermione chimed in, wiping a few sweaty strands of hair from her face.
"We need Fleur in here too," Harry grumbled, dropping down into his chair. "She could explain, and I could show since she has to be under the invisibility cloak."
Dumbledore's comments had been stirring around in his mind since he'd left his lesson earlier in the day. He'd recounted the strange conversation to Ron and Hermione on their way up to the room of requirement, but they had come up with little.
"I've been thinking about that," said Hermione.
"When?" Ron cut in. "When did you have time between our practice runs?"
"During," Hermione said sheepishly.
"The idea was not to think," Harry chided. "Not to just think about something else."
"I know," she said, slouching down in the chair. "I'm having a really tough time with it."
Harry saw the retort building in Ron's eyes, and swiftly cut in.
"Did you come up with anything?" he asked, watching Ron deflate out of the corner of his eye.
"It's got to have something to do with this room," she said.
"Like what?" Ron asked. "Some sort of passage out of the school?"
XxXxXxXxXxXxX
Do you remember the Hog's Head? That's where the passage starts. I'll meet you there with the cloak. After the first time, the barman says you can apparate into one of the back rooms and I can wait for you there.
I am glad! I am looking forward to helping you and your friends with your lessons. Have you found others to join yet?
No, not yet. We're worried about that Inquisitorial squad business. They're handing out detentions left and right, and she's only gotten more persistent that I join.
It is risky but necessary. We are not likely to be the only ones who come face to face with Death Eaters. The more prepared everybody is, the better.
We shouldn't be facing Voldemort or Death Eaters at all.
I am not having this argument again. If you are in danger like that yet again, we will be in it together.
Fleur pursed her lips, tugging angrily on the edges of her warm blanket, pulling it tight around her. Almost like clockwork, every time they discussed people joining Harry's study group, they had a disagreement about him being unwilling to accept support if it came time for the real thing. She'd seen progress in him in their nearly nightly discussions, and she was confident that he was coming around, even if he didn't like it.
Dumbledore talked about that some during our first lesson. I can't stand the idea of you all being in danger, and I wouldn't be able to stand by if you were, so I guess I understand. I still don't like it.
You see?
Fleur smiled, memory halting her quill and changing its course.
Together, or not at all.
Harry's swift replies halted, and Fleur froze, staring at the frustratingly stagnant paper, each minute fueling the anxiety building in her chest. Had she pushed too hard? The painful knot uncoiled gently as two words traced their way onto the paper.
Together then.
XxXxXxXxXxXxX
"What have you learned?" Voldemort asked. "It is hard to believe it has taken you this long to discover basic information about the boy. Especially considering how competent you tend to be."
"I have discovered why it is so difficult to retrieve any information, my Lord," Barty Crouch Jr. said, bowing his head as he spoke. "He was part of a hearing presided over by the Department of Family Affairs. Those records are almost completely sealed and will take some more time to uncover. I did discover through other means that he spent the summer with the French Ambassador's family, and will likely live with his godfather, Sirius Black after this school year is over."
"A troubled upbringing," Voldemort said with a grin, exposing sharp teeth beneath his pallid lips. "I do not think we will need those documents. I don't want you wasting your valuable time pursuing something that won't be of benefit to us. I will figure out how we can best use the information you have provided. Well done Mr. Crouch."
"Thank you, my Lord."
"Before you return to the Ministry, please see to our 'guest.' Perhaps he has some further insight into Sirius Black."
"Yes, my Lord," Barty said, bowing low, a pleased grin spreading across his features. Being undercover was challenging. It would be nice to let off some steam.