The Marauding Champions
Chapter 9:
Relationship Troubles
The next week started with an omen of great portent and ill-fortune. This omen came not in the form of tea leaf reading, crystal ball gazing or even more superstitious signs like a cracked mug or McGonnigal crossing his path while transformed, after he walked through a broken mirror, under a ladder and spilling an entire bag of salt on top of her after curfew.
Nay, his forewarning - which in most cases he would be overjoyed to receive ahead of time for a change - came from a conversation with his girlfriend.
His Monday had started off beautifully. The frozen morning dew and grass crunched beneath his feet as he went to the Bauxbatons carriage; intent on meeting Fleur there so they could walk to breakfast together. This had been their usual morning routine for some time now.
They walked arm in arm up to the castle, breathing in the delicious mountain air with the scent of an oncoming drizzle when it happened. Fleur, radient with the usual glowing blush, turned to look him in the eye and took a deep breath. He expected she was going to say something momentous, maybe put into words the maelstrom of emotions they'd been feeling for one another in a simple three word confession that he himself lacked the courage to say.
"I'm hormonal today."(A/N-0)
It took him several moments to break from the draw of her wide, deep blue eyes and properly register what she had said.
Oh... Oh! Oooooooooooh... Oh shit.
Harry passed on her gracious warning to Viktor and Cedric. Good thing too, because otherwise they probably wouldn't have noticed her partially transforming in public in time to cover it up on any of the occasions it had happened.
Pain aux raisin overcooked and too dry to eat? Well it was really overcooked after It erupted into flames in her suddenly clawed hands. Only a few curious students were close enough to have seen it, and they chalked it up to an impressive display of wandless magic - a story they decided to run with.
Later that day a pair of seventh year Hufflepuff girls almost earned themselves a case of hot butt when they passed Fleur and Harry in the hall and whispered something snide to his emotionally compromised girlfriend. He didn't quite catch it, but it may have had something to do with her nonexistent chest - which he himself adored seeing as it was a natural consequence of being as lithe as she was, but which she was rather self-conscious about.
Their backs were turned so they didn't see what kind of reaction their comments got. But Harry didd. He dealt with it by yanking Fleur into a cavity behind the ever-ubiquitous suits of armour and dousing her with an aguamenti charm before she could let loose a fireball. That definitely didn't improve her mood towards him.
Tuesday didn't fare much better.
It seemed to start off great when he greeted her with a bear hug and she melted into him.
"Hmmmm. Soft." He sighed into her hair.
For some reason the French woman translated the English word "soft" into the french word "gros" and spent the rest of the day moping about how her boyfriend apparently considered her to be heavyset. Husky, even. Rotund, if you prefer. How the impossibly petite girl could think anyone would think her fat was beyond Harry, but at this point he was also sick and tired of walking on eggshells so he sent her off to bed that night with another hug.
"Hmmm. Hard." (A/N-1)
Meanwhile Harry, Viktor and Cedric were having the opposite problem to Fleur's.
While she was having a hard time keeping from transforming against her will, they were having difficulty transforming at all. Viktor was doing significantly better than him or Cedric. He could already partially transform on his own, namely his head, without wanded help. Which was a huge improvement from the second task, when he had needed a wand.
Harry and Cedric, on the other hand, had to put up with Remus and Sirius recreating "Malfoy the Dancing Ferret" but with a platypus and hornbill instead.
"The goal here is to get accustomed to the sensation of transforming back and forth, until you can do it yourself." Lupin had explained. "It's like teaching a child to walk by manually holding them up and moving their legs until the muscle memory sets in."
Harry sincerely doubted the process Remus just described was anywhere near as painful for an infant as this was for them. And at the end of the hour of "training" Sirius went right back to writing at the makeshift desk he'd made out of the basilisks skull.
"What're you up to, dogfather of mine?"
He hid whatever papers he was working on before dismissively, and obviously, lying to him.
"Oh you know. Spent thirteen plus years without writing. Calligraphy skills have degraded some. It's shameful that my handriting is worse than your chicken scratch. And yes, I do get copies of your classwork and I do care about your grades kiddo. You need to work on your penmanship.
Harry was so touched, and slightly ashamed, by the truthfulness of the last part of that statement that he didn't have it in him to call the prematurely old man out on the lie.
Come Wednesday morning he had set it as his mission to poke the dragon until she exploded and got all the moodiness out of her system.
Speaking of Moody, he was finally back from his leave of absence. Good thing too, because Harry doubted any of them could tolerate another lecture on proactive safety and preventative self-defense from Dumbledore.
It was certainly useful to be able to recognize agressive body language, postures indicating somebody may be reaching for or concealing a weapon, how to do cavity searches and how to de-escalate tesnsions before a fight broke out. It was even more useful to know the thirteen leading causes of death, habits to protect yourself from them(from diet and exercise to a full three days of workplace safety classes). But it was also incredibly boring!
Mad-eye, on the other hand, was anything but boring. Not least of which was because of his change in appearance.
He was missing fistfulls of hair, had bloodshot eyes, or erm, eye(seeing as they had stolen the other one where an eyepatch now covered) and had lost a lot of weight. Honestly he looked like he'd been locked inside of a dark place for several months with little to eat or drink only to be released and mauled by Aunt Marge's prize bulldog; An experience Harry was intimately familiar with.
... What the hell had they done to him? And where the hell had Ron disappeared to?! Nobody had seen the bath-hating twerp since Monday.
Questions for later. For now he had a letter to compose to little Gabby to implore her on advice for how to terrorize her older clone. His difficulty was in wording the request in an innocent way so as to coax her into revealing her secrets of her own volition.
He settled for inviting her for lunch to ask for advice on his situation.
Turns out, as a Hogwarts champion he was legally recognized as an adult for so long as the tournament continued. A little factoid nobody had thought to tell him until Hermione offhandedly suggested that may be the case. Her suggestion that he could remain a legal adult after the tournament should he get married - as he was legally allowed to consent to marriage - remained always lodged in the back of his mind.
So now, like all of-age students, he could leave Hogwarts at any time he felt like it. And through the front door instead of the back, side, subterranean, sub-sub terranian or attic exits. He could just walk to Hogsmeade. Whenever he wanted. Even after curfew.
Life was good.
And thus he found himself meeting Gabrielle and Apolline Delacour. Both were dressed in white dresses over black cotton turtlenecks and full leg stockings. His maybe one day future sister and mother in law looked warm, inviting and adorable in their matching outfits.
"Bonjour 'arry!" Little Gabby greeted enthusiastically, bouncing on her heels.
"A pleasure to finally meet you Mister Potter." Apolline greeted without a hint of an accent before proffering a limp hand.
Harry took it hesitantly and shook it lightly, before awkwardly letting go. Her warm aura hardened and she agressively offered her hand a second time, as if demanding he do it properly. So he did, this time shyly planting a kiss on her knuckle.
He was rewarded with a nod of approval, and he hated himself for the small sense of pride he got from it.
"Would you like to join Gabrielle and I for lunch?" He asked properly
"I would be overjoyed. Please, lead the way." She accepted, taking his elbow in one hand and Gabrielle's hand in the other.
Having the refined woman hold onto his elbow as he walked her to the three broomsticks was an experience he had no reference for. The closest he'd come, at least in how the situation made him feel, was when he had danced with Padma at the Yule ball. He felt an odd sort of pride, as if he were refined himself by doing so. How odd that such a simple act could make him feel more like a man.
There! That's what it was. It made him feel masculine. Grown up, even.
He had the frame of mind to hold the door open for the ladies as they entered and Appoline let go of him to walk to the table. But when he sat down both remained standing. Apolline with a raised eyebrow and expectant look on her face.
"What?" He asked dumbly.
She glanced at her chair then back to staring him in the eye.
"Oh!" Said Harry in realization.
He stood back up from his seat and pulled Apolline's chair out for her, pushing her back in once she sat and thanked him. Repeating the action for Gabrielle illicited what might have been a "thank you" in French, but it was hard to tell over all the giggling. Once they were both tucked in he returned to his own seat; just in time for a third beautiful blonde, Madame Rosmerta, to arrive with a couple menus she handed out, along with the morning's newspaper.
Apolline took the newspaper and busied herself with reading it in place of perusing the menu. Gabrielle entertained herself by swinging her feet and glancing around at the rustic decorations and Scottish guests of the establishment with a look of wonder.
Harry was no stranger to awkward silences, but for once it didn't seem to be his fault
"Er. Are you two going to order anything?"
Apolline made a lady-like snort and glanced up from whatever article she had been reading.
"You invited us here, Mister Potter. We are your guests. What's more, you are the man here and in both cases that means it is up to you to order for us." She informed him.
Harry had a sudden mental image of Apolline training a dog to have proper table manners. The Marauder in him wanted to rebel against his maybe-future-mother-in-law and show her what trying to train him against his will could earn her... But the gentleman in him, the part that was falling in love with this woman's daughter and wanted to make every effort to make his entire potential family happy, refused to let the Marauder run wild just yet
"Okay. I'll do that." He concluded.
He began looking the two over and trying to will the knowledge of what they would like out of their minds and into his own. Was it proper for him to order for them because it showed he was trying to be considerate of them, or to test his ability to read people? He knew the Delacours were wealthy in a new money sort of way, but for the life of him he couldn't recall what Fleur had said the family business was.
"They still haven't found who robbed the Knight Bus." She said suddenly.
... That was certainly one way to break him out of his thoughts
"Somebody robbed the Knight Bus!?" He asked, letting his surprise show in his voice.
"Oh yes. Well over a month ago now. The day after you saved my more prescious daughter from the Mer. Or perhaps that same evening?"
Harry knew from long experience to never believe in coincidences. And he didn't miss the fact that this would have correlated to the night of the Marauder's rebirth.
"What did they take?" He asked curiously.
"The engine."
"The engine?"
"The engine."
Harry tried to digest that. The next question didn't even finish exiting his mouth before Mrs Delacour answered.
"Why.."
"The knight bus is a world-wide franchise. The engine and it's enchantments allow it to travel at speeds unmatched by any comparable vehicle, and the means by which the double deckers make other vehicles, buildings and trees jump out of the way is a trade secret." Apolline explained. "So naturally the whole world is fascinated by who could have taken it. And how."
Hmmm. He was starting to get the picture.
Funny, he had come out here expecting to get dirt in his aggressively sensitive girlfriend, but instead he solved the mystery as to how they managed to get the Durmstrang ship up and down two entire mountains through a forest.
"Do they have any suspects?"
"You mean aside from the mysterious man they discovered locked inside of the hole where the engine used to be?" Apolline goaded.
Harry shook his head.
"None. And the authorities refuse to share the mystery man's identity with the public. Perhaps he was put there by whomever stole the engine.?" She sighed wearily and put the newspaper down. "Very dark signs. First the world cup, then the debacle of this tournament, and now a kidnapping of what must be a high profile individual and theft of a highly dangerous magical artifact."
She locked eyes with Harry and spoke with utter sincerity and concern.
"I hope you can recognize these signs and what they mean. I hope you can foresee the coming dark times that many with their ears to the ground are muttering about in shady corners and smoky meetings all over the wizarding world."
It took all of Harry's self-control not to break down laughing at how serious she delivered that line.
The Death Eaters at the world cup and him being forced into the tournament, sure. But were people really taking their pranks as signs that Voldemort's forces were congregating and making terrible schemes? It would be hilarious if it wasn't making people he cared about worry needlessly for him. Because he knew exactly who stole the engine, exactly who was shoved into the engine cavity(and swore to himself that they would make it up to the retired Auror) and had a strong hunch as to the location of the engine.
"I'm already as on edge as I can be ma'am." He told her. "Most of the time at least. And I have good friends and better mentors looking out for me. But thank you."
It was then that Rosmerta returned.
"What can can I get for yous?" She asked.
"I'll have a warm eggnog Butterbeer, little Gabrielle will have a hot apple cider - the sugary kind from a packet not the fermented variety - and Apolline will be having passion fruit tea with a bit of rose wine added."
Apolline gave him that same expression of approval, with those eyebrows raised and a smirk teasing her lips.
He ignored the pride in his chest and pressed forward.
"Fleur and I are having problems lately." He confessed. "No matter what I do or say she just gets angry. She warned me earlier this week that she was feeling 'hormonal' but I can't help but feel I'm doing this boyfriend thing wrong. Can you two provide me any advice on making her feel better? Or maybe what not to do."
Apolline nodded graceously to every word and waited for him to finish, and once he had she leaned back in her chair and thought about it.
"You should know that Fleur is a woman. As such sometimes there is no right answer to her mood, and no matter what you say or do she will only get angrier. Because she wants to be angry." Apolline explained. "Your job, as a man, is to treat her like the brat she is pretending to be, and be magnanimous or flirtatious as you do so. Poke the sleeping dragon, as it were."
That answer threw Harry through a loop. It sounded more like the kind of answer a playboy advising him on how to get laid - IE, Sirius - would give, not the mother of the woman in question. Then he reminded himself - Veela. And not just any Veela, but a Veela mother who was in his corner, if Gabrielle's letter could be believed.
"That was... Shockingly honest advice. Usually girls would say to do nonsense like bring her flowers or supplicate to her." Harry said/asked skeptically
"Pshah!" Apolline responded with a dismissing wave. "She chose you to be her man, not a little boy. Do not treat her as if she were your muzzer. Despite the self-serving advice many girls will give you about being sensitive and supplicative, that is not the kind of behavior in a man that makes us love him. You are supposed to be a source of stability and calm, especially in times of turmoil; even if zat turmoil is all in our heads or hearts. When we misbehave, which we do even when we know we should not, you keep acting with maturity and magnanimity. With a little teasing thrown in, of course. Do this and we will come around with an apology eventually."
Harry found himself wishing for his own quick-quotes quill to keep track of all this. If for no other reason that to share with Sirius for his input... And maybe to take hilariously misquoted notes during potions class. Yeah, definitely the latter.
"I've been doing that just fine, well except for the teasing part. I only did that once, and it was because I lost my patience. I felt bad afterwards." He said.
Rosmerta returned with their drinks and from there Harry explained how Fleur had insinuated fat from soft and how he'd called her hard.
"Vous a-t-elle frappé?" Gabrielle asked, confirming Harry's suspicion that she understood a lot more of what was being said than her aloof, hyperactive demeanor would suggest.
"Uh, she made a lot of motions against my body with her fists that I think were intended to be punches, but felt like kisses. I do think she loves me so." Harry answered with a knowing smirk, much to Gabrielle's giggling pleasure.
From there the conversation fizzled out to discussing food and drinks Fleur liked and how to prepare them, along with ways to impress her and her father - who was as yet unaware of their dating. All of it was great ammo to be saved for a later date. At one point she even conjured a hugely complicated set of forks, spoons, knives and mock dishes so she could teach him proper etiquette for fine dining(A/N-2) but from there it devolved into Harry and Gabrielle having a tea party with burlap dolls he conjured for such a purpose.
At that point Apolline threw her hands up in the universal gesture of surrender and contented herself with watching them play.
It was funny, Harry thought. He had come here today hoping to learn how to be a worse boyfriend, but instead learned how to be a much better gentleman. It was information that he couldn't wait to completely disregard in favor of being ungentlemanly for the rest of his life.
As their play date ended Harry walked them back to the floo at the Hogsmeade train station where Gabrielle pleaded to be picked up for a hug. It was as he relented that she whispered conspiratorially in his ear.
"When Fleur is being mean I buy her lots of sweets. When she eats them make a comment on how her dress fits and she'll cry."
... Harry lowered the little girl back onto the ground and slowly backed away from her. The question "why would you udo something so mean?" was on the tip of his tongue when he noticed the - rather convincing - look of innocence she wore
Oh... Oh! Ohhhhhhhh... Oh shit.
"Gentlemanly magnanimity it is." He mumbled to himself.
"What was that Harry?" Apolline asked.
"Nothing. Just came to the decision to skip the teasing and be supportive until the storm blows over."
"Hmm. I still stand by my earlier advice. Poke ze dragon. If only a leetle." She gave him a flattering wink, took Gabrielle by the hand and walked to the floo where they disappeared in a flash of green flame.
Authors Notes:
There were going to be five more scenes in this chapter but I had already decided to publish by today and knew it wouldn't be finished, so I'm splitting this chapter up into two parts.
A/N - 0: I will give one free spoiler to whoever knows where I stole this line from. Only the first person though.
A/N -1: This entire scenario, of correlating soft to fat, is an actual experience I had with my most recent gf. And I handled it the same way. Got a lot of laughs. And all of the relationship advice I've given here has held true in my experience. Take the rough patch with distinction, maturity and a spot of teasing, and she'll be all apologies and kisses when the Aunt Flow leaves.
Trust me. I'm a random guy on the internet, so I know what I'm talking about.
A/N-2 : I highly recommend taking a few hours out of your life to learn basic etiquette. If you have large family dinners try to do them properly every now and then. Dress up for it like americans used to and eat with the rules of etiquette. You may find that it's beautiful and makes you feel more disciplined. Makes you feel rich in ways that have nothing to do with money.