Welcome all to the fifth chapter of Disappointed. Apologies once again for the length of time between these last two instalments. This chapter fought me constantly and tenaciously. Quick note for this one, this chapter has lots of talking and time skips, but this will all lead up to the trio returning to Hogwarts. Also, some mild bashing in this one. To reiterate from the first chapter, this story will bash nearly everyone, some have had theirs and others are yet to come. It is also a bit of a hefty monster, but I couldn't figure out where to split it without disrupting the flow, so it remains as it is. Future chapters won't be anywhere near the nine thousand mark.
Without further ado, please enjoy this latest instalment.
The weeks leading up to his birthday, and beyond towards the start of term for the Boy-Who-Lived were a bit of a whirlwind of events, both great and small. He received a response from Professor McGonagall expressing her disappointment, but also understanding of Harry's resignation from the Quidditch Team. She also added at the end of the letter that it would be his should he change his mind. Harry knew though, Quidditch was out of the picture for this up and coming year. Another letter came from Remus, who gave his apologies at not being around this summer as he was out of the country doing work for the Order. Though his request for Harry to send him dates of Hogsmeade visits when he got them made Harry feel better about his absence. While he didn't have the closeness like he'd had with Sirius with the werewolf, he also didn't want to lose him altogether. He was the last link to his parents, and he wouldn't be giving that up without a fight. Harry further received letters from Luna and Neville, both along similar sort of lines. Thanking him for what he did for them during the D.A., not holding any ill-will towards him for what happened at the Ministry and what they were doing over the summer. Luna's especially made Harry chuckle when describing her and her father's attire while Snorkack hunting in Norway; he had never met Luna's father, but the idea of a full grown man wearing a tutu made of basil, llama wool and sequins was enough for Harry to laugh out loud for a bit. According to Luna, the scent of basil and sparkly sequins are supposed to entice the illusive creatures to them, while the softness of the wool is to provide the comfort upon capture. Harry had no idea if that was true, but he wasn't going to question it. The teen smirked slightly as he thought of Hermione's face if Luna came back in September with unequivocal proof of their existence.
The next event to happen was his trip to Gringotts to see Swiftclaw, as well as getting his school supplies. The morning had been somewhat tense, when Harry announced that Fleur would be taking him to Gringotts that day. The thunderous looks on both Molly's and Ginny's faces was quite the sight to behold. That combined with Ron's goldfish impression made for quite an interesting breakfast. The situation only became more interesting when Fleur herself made an appearance at the breakfast table. Harry was thankful that Fleur didn't use any of her usual flirtatious comments, as he didn't think the kitchen would survive the dual eruption of mother and daughter. Mr Weasley, easily seeing the impending eruption, though not necessarily from which Weasley, swiftly got the topic onto getting Hogwarts supplies. Though his attempts were very nearly in vain, as Fleur then chimed in that she'd be happy to accompany Harry to get his school stuff after the meeting with the Goblins. Harry could see the amusement in the French Witch's eyes as she said this, deliberately trying to rile up the Weasley Matriarch. While it was childish, Harry could see why Fleur felt the need to do so. Ever since stepping inside the Burrow, it was very difficult to ignore the comments, glares and tone of voice whenever Fleur was either in the room or the subject was her. Fleur was a proud Witch, and while she wouldn't outright have it out with Mrs Weasley, she got her digs in where she could. Harry's ear drums were saved by a surprising source that just happened to walk through the back door at that exact moment.
"It's a good idea, Fleur," Bill Weasley said, an amused look on his face. "I need to see the Goblins about my Egypt itinerary before I leave tomorrow anyway. I'll come with you guys, and then Harry and Fleur can meet you after lunch."
"You two had that all planned out, didn't you?"
The smug smiles on the two older Magicals was all the confirmation Harry needed. "Of course we did. I love my mother to pieces, but she can be her own worst enemy at times. When Fleur mentioned that she was going to help set up a meeting for you with the Goblins, we came up with a way to keep her off balance so she wouldn't kick up a fuss. Or at least not give her the opportunity to kick up a fuss. It was either that way, or letting the Twins set off a distraction. This seemed the less messy way of doing it."
Fleur's musical laugh rang out as she shared a smile with Bill. "And it worked perfectly, non?"
"Yeah, I guess it did," Harry replied, looking between the two with a confused expression. The trio were halfway down Diagon Alley after having Floo'd to the Leaky Cauldron where Harry confronted them about what happened in the kitchen. At first he was proud that he'd caught on to what Fleur and Bill had done, but that's when the confusion set in. Harry would be the first person to admit that he had next to zero experience in the area of relationships, the less said about his fiasco with Cho the previous year the better. His confusion revolved around the fact that even though Bill and Fleur's relationship had ended, they were both perfectly happy and comfortable being around one another. Taking his own failed relationship as an example, things were very tense and awkward between Cho and himself after their breakup. The young teen had witnessed many a breakup around Hogwarts, and the ensuing interactions were indifferent at best and hostile at worst. Seeing the two being friendly had thrown the bespectacled teen somewhat.
"Right, this is where I leave you two to it. I need to head deeper down to meet with the Team Leader before shipping out."
"Thanks, Bill. For everything," Harry said, shaking Bill's hand as they stood near the Teller stations at Gringotts.
"It was no trouble, Harry," Bill replied, shaking the teen's hand firmly. "Just be sure to remember what I said."
"I will."
"As for you, Fleur, try to keep this one out of trouble." Bill said, causing Harry to blush and Fleur to chuckle.
"I'm sure I can manage that. Take care Bill. Try not to get sucked into a sarcophagus again."
Bill groaned. "That happened one time, and it was during my first year as a Cursebreaker. I really regret telling you that story. No one ever lets me live it down."
Fleur shook her head slightly in amusement. "You know I'm only teasing, Bill. Good luck." After bussing his cheek, Bill turned off and headed towards a gate off the side of the main floor.
"Account Manager Swiftclaw is available to see Mr Potter now, Apprentice Delacour," came a voice from Harry and Fleur's right.
Looking round, they saw a Goblin guard, bedecked in gladiatorial armour and a vicious looking spear.
"Of course," Fleur said, bowing her head slightly, before turning back to Harry. "This is where I have to leave you, unfortunately. Account Managers are very strict about who they let in during meetings. Only clients and direct family are allowed in together. So, unless you plan on marrying me in the next thirty seconds, I will have to wait for you out here."
Harry thought he was doing better at keeping control of the blood flow to his face at Fleur's comments, but the mention of marriage to the beautiful Veela was enough for his face to erupt in red. Fleur's smirk and the extremely stifled chuckling from the guard made it all the more difficult to get it under control.
"See you in a bit." With that, she turned and sashayed towards what Harry assumed was a waiting area. Fleur chuckled once more when she overheard the guard saying how he didn't realise humans could get so red so quickly without blood being spilled. She then had to bite down hard on her knuckle when her enhanced hearing just caught the guard carrying on asking Harry if that level of blushing was some kind of Wizard mating ritual he was attempting on Apprentice Delacour. Fleur could only imagine the level of blush on Harry's face. At this rate, they'll need to come up with a new shade of red just for him. As the double doors swung closed behind the pair, Fleur couldn't help but think about that last question by the guard.
"Harry and moi?" She asked herself aloud, pondering the idea. "Hmm."
Harry just about got his face back to its original colour as the guard brought them to the correct office and knocked on the door with his spear. He'd have accomplished it sooner if the Goblin hadn't continually asked him questions about Fleur.
"Enter!" Came a shout from inside. The guard opened the door and gestured for Harry to enter. Steeling himself, Harry took a deep breath and entered the office. What he walked into was not what he was expecting. It looked like an ordinary office that you would expect to see in both the Wizarding World and the Muggle World, except carved out of rock. The only way you could tell that the room belonged to a magical being were the floating balls of fire that adorned the four walls, acting as the light source. The other giveaway were the broken bits of armour and weapons that either sat on pedestals or attached to the walls. On closer inspection, some of the weapons looked like they had dried blood stains on them.
"They are mementos of battles won, Mr Potter," came a voice from the other side of the office. Harry's head whipped around to see a goblin sat behind a desk that Harry missed upon entering the office. Though instead of being dressed in armour fit for battle, he was dressed in a suit that screamed 'expensive' and 'excellent quality'.
Harry bowed his head slightly. "My apologies, Account Manager Swiftclaw. I did not mean any insult by not addressing you straight away. I was just fascinated by all of these."
Surprising the young teen, the Goblin waved his apology off. "Think nothing of it, Mr Potter. You may have done so accidentally, but you have actually shown me great respect by admiring them so. A Goblin is always proud of his accomplishments through battle." He got out from behind his desk, displaying a height greater than what Harry was expecting, about four feet, and walked around to the pedestal that held a very battered looking cuirass and the hilt of a broken weapon. Whether it was from a dagger or a sword, Harry didn't know.
"This is the armour I was wearing when I took down a Peruvian Vipertooth," he said, then gesturing down towards the hilt. "It had me in its mouth when I was finally able to get a hand on my sword and stabbed it straight through the eye and into its brain. The blade snapped off in its socket, but I kept the hilt." Swiftclaw went around his office and told a short story regarding different pieces of weapons that he'd killed creatures with, or other pieces of armour that saved his life. It was only when he finally brought Harry back to his desk that he gestured to the wall behind him where a helmet with a short, gold plume was situated.
"Care to venture a guess about this one?" He asked the teen, curiously.
Harry frowned as he looked at the helmet. It obviously meant a great deal to Swiftclaw, taking pride of place behind his desk. The lack of any kind of damage or blood confused the teen, almost as if it had never taken part in any kind of fight or battle.
"I'm not sure," Harry finally answered. "For it to be in that place, it must mean a great deal more than your other pieces. However, it doesn't look like it's ever been worn. Is it symbolic or ceremonial in some way?"
Swiftclaw appraised the young wizard in front of him. "Well done, Mr Potter. I'm impressed. You are correct, in both respects."
With a gesture of a hand, the golden helmet floated down and sat on the desk between them. On closer inspection, Harry could see Gobbledegook written all over it.
"This helmet, and dozens more like it, was created using the gold found inside a Nundu's lair for the legion of Goblin warriors that was sent to execute it after it had wiped out a Goblin dwelling, two Muggle villages and one Wizard village. I do believe that was the last time our two races fought side by side, over ninety years ago. The writing on the helmet are the names of everyone who perished in that fight, Goblin and Wizard alike. The names include my father and uncle, both of whom died beside me."
"I'm so…I mean, you honour their sacrifice." Harry caught himself just in time, Bill's words ringing in his ears about being proud warriors.
This earned the teen a chuckle, an unusual sound coming from a Goblin. "Well done again, Mr Potter. Well done indeed. You've definitely done your research. If only more Wand-Users did their due diligence."
Thankful that he hadn't insulted the Goblin who was instrumental in following Sirius' Will, Harry shrugged slightly. "Not so much, Account Manager. Just a few bits of advice from Fleur and Bill."
"Cursebreaker Weasley and Apprentice Delacour?" Swiftclaw asked, raising an eyebrow.
Harry nodded. "That's right. I was a bit worried about starting another war between us, so I asked for a bit of advice."
Swiftclaw chuckled again. "They didn't steer you wrong. Though I do believe we have strayed far from the reason behind this visit, haven't we?"
Harry sighed heavily. "Yes, we have. Sirius' Will."
"But before we get to that, can I ask a quick question?"
"You're going to ask why, a Goblin like myself and my Nation as a whole, is helping you, a Wizard in the fight against the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. Would I be correct?"
"Well, um, yeah," Harry said, sheepishly. "I know a History Teacher that teaches nothing but Goblin Rebellions can't exactly be the basis on a culture. Even outside of that, I've never heard of Goblins going out of their way to helping Wizards."
Harry couldn't be called an expert on Goblin mannerisms by any stretch of the imagination, but even he could tell that he'd just asked a question that Swiftclaw had wished he hadn't. The indecisiveness was written all over his face.
After a few moments of tense silence, Swiftclaw finally answered. "The Goblin Nation made a mistake in the last war, Mr Potter. We remained neutral, letting Wizard-kind deal with their own mistakes and their problems. We didn't see the value in offering our blades, to either side. It would have caused unnecessary losses for us. And it wouldn't have mattered who won. Whichever side came out on top would still require our services. Do you understand?"
Harry nodded, uncertain where this was line of conversation was going. "I do. But what has that got to do with helping me now?"
Swiftclaw sighed. "In remaining neutral, we compromised our core beliefs as a warrior race. We sat aside and let hundreds of innocents die. It doesn't matter what issues our two races had with one another, there was a Dark Lord pillaging, razing and murdering. How many children were killed due to our inaction? That question and more has haunted us for years. Your Ministry at the time didn't even think of asking for aid from us, why would they? We are still classed as beasts in their eyes, despite knowing about our proclivity for fighting. And at the time, our leaders thought that it was about time the British Wizarding World got a wakeup call and would have rejected any offer made on principle. You'd think Grindelwald's war would have seen to that, but as he was focussed primarily on Europe's mainland, it only touched this country peripherally."
Swiftclaw drank deeply from a goblet. "This all comes back to how we betrayed ourselves. A 'warrior' is someone who is disciplined, determined and indomitable. A sense of right and wrong. A protector of the innocent. Godric Gryffindor, a Friend to the Nation, epitomised this ideal. And by letting our petty squabbles with your kind get in the way, the Nation has lost its way. And it has been desperate to regain its honour ever since."
Harry swallowed thickly. "You make it seem like I'm your, for lack of a better word, salvation?"
"In a way, you are," Swiftclaw said, chuckling slightly. "We know the Prophecy mentioned in the Prophet is real. We may not know the contents of it, but we know of its validity. You will be the one who defeats Lord Voldemort, and we will do whatever it takes to help you in that mission."
"And in doing so, you get to right the wrongs of your people," Harry concluded. "You're using me."
"Once again, in a way you are correct. But is it truly using you if you are getting something out of it as well? Ever since you first walked in here as an eleven year old, it was painfully obvious how out of your depth you were. And when Mr Black came in here, and sat where you're sitting now, and recorded his Will, we knew that no one had been doing anything to help you."
"So yes, Mr Potter. We are using you. By using you, we get to rid the world of a Dark Lord and regain our honour and self-respect. And by using you, we are giving you the tools in which you get to live your life by your own rules. Recent treaties, ignorantly signed by cowards who are fortunately not with us anymore, have magically barred us from taking up arms against Wizards unless directly attacked first. We are under no misconceptions that if Voldemort were to win this war, he will be turning his gaze towards us and will want to bend us to his will. And we have no inclination of letting him make the first move, hence why we need you. Sounds like a fair deal to me. What say you?"
"I say," Harry said, processing what could only be described as quite a doozy of information. "That I think becoming a warrior is a worthy goal. And I can think of no better mentors than the Goblins."
"You'll make a fine warrior someday, Mr Potter," Swiftclaw said with a toothy smile. "And sooner than you think. While I have no issue with you knowing our shame, the Nation and myself would appreciate it if you were to keep it to yourself and only your closest confidants. We are taking a great risk by placing ourselves behind you. I wouldn't like to see our working relationship tarnished in anyway."
"You have my word," Harry promised. "The Nation can count on me. Speaking of our working relationship, we seem to have strayed from the main reason for my visit."
"Indeed we have." Swiftclaw said with a smirk. He reached into a draw and pulled out two sheets of parchment. "The information on these documents pertain to the amount of gold added to the main Potter Vault, as well as the properties that are now under your name. Give them a read and ask any questions."
Harry took the documents and nearly balked at the amount of gold he now had. The number of properties he now owned was also nothing to sniff at. The locations of some of them made Harry quite excited to visit them. Black Island being in the top spot.
That must have been where Sirius was hiding out after he escaped on Buckbeak, Harry thought. Especially if that brightly coloured Toucan was anything to go by.
"Do you have any questions, Mr Potter?" Swiftclaw asked.
"Just the one," Harry said, putting the parchments down in front of him. "In your letter was the first time I'd ever heard of a 'Main Potter Vault', and you mentioned it again just now. How many vaults do I have, exactly?"
At this question, Swiftclaw cocked his head sideways in confusion. "Do you mean to say that no one has told you?"
Harry shook his head. "I've pretty much been kept in the dark ever since I returned to the Wizarding World. I know some of that blame belongs to me, as I've never thought to ask. Though in my defence, every year for the past five years has had something quite traumatic happen."
"Well, Mr Potter," Swiftclaw said, steepling his fingers together. "Let's start from the top."
An hour later, Harry was escorted to the waiting area to meet Fleur by the same guard that originally took him to Swiftclaw's office. Harry was in such a daze, he wasn't even focussing on where his feet were taking him. To be told that he was filthy rich, would become Lord Potter-Black on his seventeenth birthday and owned a dozen properties around the globe was enough to make any teenager's head spin. The two additional vaults, one containing the vast majority of his gold and the other housing various antiques, weapons and furniture from Godric's Hollow also had an impact on the young man. It was lucky that his parents had placed restrictions on these two vaults that he wasn't allowed to enter until he was of age, otherwise he knew with a certainty that it would have taken an army of dragons to get him to leave. The only thing he did leave with was a shrunken trunk in his pocket that Swiftclaw said would be helpful in his training. He was so preoccupied, he didn't realise that he had made it back to the Fleur, who was snapping her fingers in front of his face.
"You know, Harry," she said, smirking slightly. "It's not polite to ignore a lady. Not sure that's ever happened to me before."
"Sorry, Fleur," Harry said, shaking his head. "Just still getting my head around what I have."
"More than you thought, oui?"
"Way more. So much more than I could have imagined."
"In that case, I'd say lunch was on you then," Fleur said, giving Harry a dazzling smile as she led him out of the bank. "While I can't say much for English cuisine, your ice cream is to die for."
Shaking his head slightly, Harry got his thoughts back in order as he chuckled slightly. "I think that's the first time I've heard you say something positive about this country. Is ice cream the only thing we've got on France, then?"
"I suppose I could think of a couple more things," Fleur responded with a wink.
Proud that he kept a blush down, Harry could only chuckle at her response. His good mood, however, was short lived. When walking to Gringotts, Harry had been so focussed on the conundrum that was Fleur and Bill's friendship, he hadn't actually taken notice of the street itself. Diagon Alley was a shadow of its former self. The likes of Madam Malkins, Flourish & Blotts and the Apothecary was still open, but a lot of former shops were all boarded up. Gambol & Japes, Twilfitt & Tatting's and Obscurus Books, all gone. People were walking the street in huddles, afraid to be out alone. Wanted posters lined every building of all escaped Death Eaters.
"Feels wrong, doesn't it?" Fleur asked, noticing Harry's wandering eyes.
"Can say that again," affirmed Harry. "I still remember when Hagrid first brought me here. Up until that point, I was still having a hard time believing that magic was real. That any second, I was going to wake up back at the Dursley's and the whole thing had been a dream. But after passing through the wall at the Cauldron, seeing all that wonderment. It was amazing. Without even realising it, it felt like I was coming home. And now look at it. Something else Riddle has taken away."
Promising herself to query what riddles had to do with anything later, Fleur spoke up. "Enough gloom and doom for now, Harry. You owe me an ice cream, and I would hate for some brooding and grumbling to ruin our date."
"Right, yes. Sorry," Harry said as Fleur began to walk ahead, before doing a double take. "Wait, date?"
"Was everything to your liking, Mr Potter?" Florean Fortescue asked, clearing away Fleur's and Harry's table.
"Was perfect, as always Mr Fortescue," Harry replied, smiling.
"Oui, Monsieur," Fleur affirmed with her own dazzling smile.
"Always a pleasure, Mr Potter. Always a pleasure."
Just as he was about to walk away with the plates floating above him, Harry caught his attention. "Do you have a moment to answer a quick question, Mr Fortescue?"
"Hmm?" Florean answered, turning around. Nodding, he sent the plates towards the kitchen with a flick of his wand before walking back to the table. "What's on your mind?"
"It's about the Alley."
"Ah," Florean said, sighing heavily. "Dark times. It's the same store owners as last time too. We weathered it once. We can weather it again."
"Can I ask how come you haven't shut up shop and left?"
This time, the ice cream owner gave a determined sigh. "It may very well be my undoing, but I'm the sort of fellow who will stay at his business through thick and thin. I've poured my heart and soul into this place. And I will continue to stand here at the counter hoping one of my favourite customers will appear. And I wasn't wrong. See? You stopped by."
"Looks like I have competition in who can make you blush the fastest, Harry," Fleur said teasingly, the now red Harry in the wake of Fortescue's comment as he walked away.
"I'm starting to think I might as well have a permanent Colour-Changing charm on my face," Harry grumbled. "Just in case it gets stuck like this."
"Aww, but then I wouldn't be able to see how adorably red your face gets," Fleur teased, causing the teen opposite her to groan again, before slumping into his arms on the table.
Harry slightly lifted his head up and gave Fleur a half-hearted glare. "I'm starting to think your whole purpose is to make my face explode."
"Je suis désolé," Fleur said, her tone clearly showing her amusement. "Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"
Had Harry been entirely focussed on Fleur, his face might have genuinely exploded. However, a flash of blonde hair caught his attention and his embarrassed, yet good mood, dropped suddenly.
"Actually, there is."
Grasping her hand, Harry swiftly pulled a confused Fleur down the Alley towards where he had seen an alone and suspicious looking Draco Malfoy heading. The entrance to Knockturn Alley. Pausing at the archway, Harry peered down and saw the Malfoy heir look around before entering a store near the end.
Looking back to Fleur, he noticed she was about to ask something. "Not now, Fleur. Please, just trust me."
She cocked her head for a few moments before nodding. Harry sighed, relieved. "Thank you. Now, put this on and stay close." With that, Harry reached into his coat and pulled out his Invisibility Cloak, something that he had been carrying around with him everywhere. Even at the Burrow. Throwing it over the pair of them, they made their down the darkened Alley as quickly as they could without the Cloak falling off. There was a time when the Cloak could comfortably fit over three First Years. Now, Harry had to crouch slightly with Fleur virtually pressed up against him. Had it been any other circumstance, the level of distraction would have been very difficult to overcome. As it was, Harry barely noticed Fleur's subtle perfume as his mind was focussed on what Malfoy was up to. Fleur was tempted to make a comment, but seeing Harry's intense expression, she decided to hold off for the moment as Harry led her further and further down the cobbled path. Suddenly, Harry practically threw her against the wall and pressed up against her as he looked into the store window next to her head. Once the initial shock wore off, Fleur smirked, unable to keep any comment at bay. "So forward of you Harry. First you want me as your bunny girl, and now you've got me pressed up against a wall. Are you about to have your wicked way with me?"
"Huh?" Came Harry's intelligent reply. It was only at that moment did he realise what position he had placed them in, turning bright red and mumbled an apology.
"We'll discuss your intentions towards me later," she said, playfully. "Now, care to explain why you've brought me down here?"
Successfully fighting down the blush, for what seemed the tenth time that day alone, Harry became serious once more. "This store is Borgin & Burkes. It's a store known for selling less than reputable merchandise, borderline dark. They probably even have cursed items here, too. And inside is one of the many banes of my existence, Draco Malfoy."
"Malfoy?" Fleur asked, questioningly. "Was that not the name of one of the Death Eaters caught at the Ministry?"
"Lucius Malfoy," Harry confirmed, his eyes still fixed inside the store. "Draco's father. They're as vile as each other. However, in the five years I've known Draco Malfoy, he has never been anywhere without either his father or bodyguards. The fact that he's gone out of his way to be inconspicuous, screams to me that he's up to something. I just can't see what he's doing in there. It's too dark."
Fleur rolled her eyes, not that Harry could see. "Swap places with me."
"What, why?"
"Veela, remember?" She reminded him, gripping him tightly and span in place. "While it's not quite night-vision, as long as there's a light source, I'll be able to see the vast majority of the room. Now hush. Let me work."
Now that Harry's attention was off the store, it fixed onto the only thing it could, Fleur herself. Her face was inches away from his, her sapphire blue eyes wide and bright. The scent of her shampoo filled his nostrils as her hair, despite being under a cloak and in a dark alley, still slightly shone. Her beauty could never be overstated. Being this close, Harry could easily feel her Allure, but just like when they sat on the conjured sofa together, it wasn't turning him into a bumbling, love-struck teen. As before, it just felt warm and comforting. Just as he was about to experience the usual reactions to being in close proximity to beautiful girl, said beautiful girl grabbed his attention.
"Quick, Harry!" She whispered harshly. "We need to move. He's heading this way." They just made it to the other side of the door as it swung violently open, the Malfoy heir strutting out, a smug look on his face as he made his way back to Diagon Alley. Looking at each other, Fleur and Harry decided to do the same thing. By the time they made it back, Draco had vanished.
Cursing slightly, Harry pulled the Cloak off of them, wrapped it up and placed it back inside his coat. "Dammit. Can't see where he went."
"Another time, Harry," Fleur said, consolingly. "Do you want to know want to know what I saw?"
Harry whipped his head around to her. "Yes, please. What happened in there?"
"He wandered around a bit as the shopkeeper followed him, gesturing towards certain items and looked like he was describing them to Malfoy. After a little bit, he picked up this shrivelled looking hand on a pillow and brought it over to the counter. That's where things got even more suspect."
"Why? What happened?"
"He bought that disgusting hand and then the shopkeeper reached under the till and brought out a small, wrapped package. Couldn't tell what it was. That's when he got a glint in his eye, the same kind of glint when I see wizards looking at me, like they want something. Again, I don't know what Malfoy said, but he showed the owner something on what looked like his arm and the guy's face turned white instantly."
This alarmed Harry more than anything else. "Which arm, Fleur?"
Not noticing his tone, Fleur replied "Left? Yes, definitely the left arm. Why, does it make a difference?"
While Fleur missed the change in tone, there was no mistaking the sudden spike in Harry's aura as he angrily growled at her response, his eyes tightly shut. "Harry? Harry, what's wrong?"
Harry exhaled harshly before opening his eyes to look at Fleur, nearly flinching at the furious look in those emerald pools. "The left forearm is where Death Eaters carry the Dark Mark, Fleur."
At this Fleur's own face whitened in realisation. "You don't mean?"
"Yes, Draco Malfoy has taken the Mark. He's a Death Eater."
Harry's birthday saw both ups and downs a few days later. The major down was something that Harry saw coming for a while but hoped beyond hope that it wouldn't happen. Ron quit the extra training. The blow-up had been brewing and the eruption was inevitable. Harry was finally getting a bit of a challenge when he would go up against both Hermione and Ron, their duels lasting for twenty minutes, easily. However, it didn't take long for Harry to overcome their shortcomings, chief of which was that they were fighting as two separate people rather than as a team. The final nail in the coffin was Swiftclaw's latest gift to Harry. In the shrunken package he'd given Harry was a trio of state of the art training dummies. These were more mobile and versatile than those that the Aurors used for training. They had five levels of intensity and a 'team' level. As the levels progressed, the dummies would cast faster and move around the Arena more, as well as needing more tags to shut down. They could only cast two spells, the Goblin equivalent of a Stinging Hex and a Shield Charm, both of which becoming stronger the higher the level. The 'team' function was if Harry wanted to face up against all three at the same time and would work as one unit to take him down. Ron's mood turned foul almost immediately when he couldn't get past the first level as quickly as Hermione and Harry did; Hermione began to really struggle on level three, whereas Harry sailed through to level four almost immediately. By the time Ron finally managed to get to the second level, with an impressive number of welts across his body, Harry was on five and Hermione was comfortable on three but didn't feel she was ready for higher. The green-eyed monster reared its ugly head and Ron turned the level straight up to five. He barely had time to raise his wand, before the training dummy sent him flying across the Arena to crash into the warded dome. Harry and Hermione were immediately by his side, only for Ron to angrily swat away their hands.
"This is bullshit!" he screamed, staggering to his feet. Once he was upright, Hermione and Harry could see that the intensity of the spell had ripped Ron's shirt open; they flinched as they saw that the spell had managed to break the skin.
"Here," Hermione said, raising her wand to his chest. "Let me heal you." Unfortunately, because Hermione had put her focus on Ron, she had neglected to remember that she was in the middle of fighting her own dummy at the time. She heard it before she saw it, the tell-tale sign of a spell being fired towards her. Whipping her head around, she was just in time to see Harry jab his wand towards the dummy. First, deflecting the spell off to the side, and the second obliterating the hastily casted Shield Charm, sending the dummy careening off to the other side of the Arena.
Nodding her head in thanks, slightly amazed at his wordless casting, she turned back to Ron, whose face had turned an even uglier shade of red.
"I can do it myself," he said, angrily. He muttered a healing spell, only for it to heal the cut and not the swelling. Swearing again, he repeated the spell two more times before his chest was back in its original state. Not even sparing his friends a look, he stormed out of the Arena and headed back towards the house, leaving two very bewildered teens behind. Hermione turned to look at Harry, a look of confusion and hurt on her face. Harry's face, however, held only resignation. He knew there was a chance that Ron would give up. He just didn't think it would happen so quickly.
Harry would have liked to have thought that a few hours and plenty of food would calm his red-headed friend down, but it wasn't to be. Even the massive snitch-themed cake wasn't enough to bring him out of his funk. Though, unsurprisingly, despite his bad mood Ron was still able to pack away the food at his birthday dinner. Harry was determined not to let Ron ruin his birthday, though. He received an excellent haul from everyone, including a holster for his Holly wand and a whole array of Dark Detectors and Defence books. While Harry would vehemently deny it later, the cologne that Fleur got him was his favourite gift. Though that could also be because of the lingering kiss she left on his cheek as she pressed her gift into his hands. All the ribbing he got from the act was well worth it, purposefully ignoring the stony looks on the youngest Weasleys and Mrs Weasley's faces. His second favourite moment was when Remus Lupin arrived in the early evening and gestured the teen outside for a walk.
"I thought you were out of the country?" Harry asked the older Wizard as they made their way around the Barn towards the Arena.
"Technically, I am," Remus said, chuckling slightly. "Albus doesn't know that I'm back, if only momentarily. I've got an International portkey tonight. I had no intention of missing your sixteenth birthday."
"Thanks, Moony," Harry said, smiling. "It means a lot."
"Any time," Remus replied, his smile dimming somewhat as they approached the Control Pillar. "How are you holding up?"
Harry sighed heavily. "I'm getting there, slowly. Training's helped me keep focussed. But there's the odd occasion where something creeps up on me and I'm not ready for it."
Here, Harry slumped to the floor as he leant against the Pillar. "I miss him, Remus. I miss him so much."
"I miss him too," Remus said, sitting on the floor next to the teen. "It's cruel how little time you got to spend with him. But I know he'd be proud of you."
"I hope so."
"So, how's your ebony wand coming along?"
"Really well actually, wait. Hang on. How do you know about that?"
Remus chuckled. "Really, Harry? Who do you think helped Sirius get out of Headquarters?"
"So, you know all about his Will and what he got the Goblins to do?"
"Not the specifics inside the Will, but I do know he had some long talks with the Goblins about something. I'm assuming about making sure you got everything he left for you?"
Harry nodded in confirmation. "Yeah, the Recording Orb, the wand and my parents' journals."
"Ah," Remus sighed wistfully. "It seems like yesterday that I was watching James and Lily writing furiously in them. Studying them?"
"Intensely. Some of the things they came up with are amazing. Especially Mum's Rune Bombs."
Here, Remus couldn't help the laugh that burst out of him. "Now those truly were a work of genius. And dangerous. I hope you three are being careful with those?"
"Don't need to worry about that, Moony. We had a chat, and even though we've learned loads of healing spells, we decided to wait until we're back under Pomphrey's tender care before we start playing around with those."
Remus nodded approvingly. "I'm glad to see that you're being cautious and taking this seriously."
"Sirius' Will hit me with a few home truths. I need to be better than what I was. I need to be the Wizard that my parents and Sirius wanted me to be."
"You are well on your way to becoming that Wizard. Just don't forget to live, too. It's all well and good preparing for war, but you need to look beyond the war too." Harry couldn't help but chuckle slightly at this. "What did I say?"
"It's nothing," Harry said, still smirking. "It's just, you sounded like Sirius."
"Not sure if I should feel complimented or insulted," Remus said, smiling himself now.
"Maybe a bit of both," Harry grinned. "He said about making sure I find someone who makes me happy."
"Well, he was bound to have the odd, good idea from time to time. As strange as it may sound coming from an ex-Professor, but has anyone caught your eye?"
"Not really. My date with Cho last year didn't exactly fill me with confidence regarding getting a girlfriend. There's just not anyone there that I see in that way. Or anyone there who can truly look past the whole Boy-Who-Lived, and now Chosen One, thing."
"Have you considered looking outside of Hogwarts?"
"Huh?"
"Very eloquent, Harry," Remus chuckled. "What I'm saying is, this old Werewolf nose is picking up a certain Veela scent on you. More so on you than anyone else in that house."
"First of all, there has to be a better way of phrasing that," Harry said, blushing slightly. "And second, there's nothing to tell. Fleur's just a friend. And she's really helped with some of my low moments since getting here."
"Are you sure that's all it is?"
"Yeah, what else would it be?"
"So, the reason why you're blushing like a schoolgirl is?"
Harry grumbled at this. "That seems to be my go-to thing at the moment. I think I'm cursed. Know of any magical creatures that affect skin tones that might be stalking me?" He asked, jokingly.
"Well, now that you mention it, there is a creature that is known for its mischief and causing harmless and unpredictable pranks on Witches and Wizards. I'm sure changing a person's skin tone wouldn't be too difficult for them."
"Wait, there's actually something like that?" Harry asked, shocked. "What is it? What does it look like?"
"There's only a handful of Magicals that have witnessed such a creature, though all their accounts of it match somewhat. It's been described as the British version of the Kitsune, a magical fox from Japan. Both share a love of mischief and tricking people. There are some minor, aesthetic differences, however. The British version only has five tales at adulthood, rather than nine. It's colouring is orange with black markings, rather than white with red ones. And it's considerably smaller, slightly larger than a cat. Oh, and unlike its Japanese counter-part, it has a crooked horn on the centre of its head, said to be the focus of all its magic."
"That's amazing," Harry gaped. "What's it called? How do I stop it?"
"All have slightly different names for the creature, but there is one favourite, so to speak. It's known as the Crumpled-Horn Snorkack."
Harry's jaw dropped. "No way. You're kidding me?"
Remus' straight face slowly morphed in a devious grin. "Yes, I am."
Harry's jaw remained on the floor for a few moments as the Werewolf couldn't help but laugh, but slowly turned into a pout.
"It's times like this that I forget you're a Marauder."
"You never want to do that," Remus warned the teen, still smiling. "Miss Lovegood is always a good source of creatures to confuse and misdirect people."
"I didn't realise you'd spoken to Luna that much?" Harry queried.
Remus shrugged slightly. "Not especially, but I did teach her for a year, and I have to say, she was by far my most favourite Ravenclaw to teach. Well above any of the older years. She was always so refreshing to speak to."
"Yeah," Harry confirmed, smiling at the thought of his strange friend. "She's really something. She doesn't deserve any of the bullying that happens to her. And if our adventure through the Ministry hasn't given her the confidence to step up to the bullies, if they do it again, nothing is going to protect them from me." Harry half expected to see Remus shake his head or reprimand him but was surprised to see a somewhat grim-looking nod of acceptance.
"Just like your parents," he said wistfully. "They were never ones to sit aside and watch something happen to innocent people. And while I will never condone violence for the sake of violence, I'm not one of these people who preaches that vengeance is always different from justice. The only thing I'll give you is a caution. A caution that you will never seek out or escalate a confrontation unless absolutely necessary."
Harry nodded, but that wasn't enough for the older Wizard. "Not good enough, Harry. I want a promise from you. I know you're preparing for war, as much as it pains me to think about a teenager needing to do so. You are well on your way to becoming more powerful and experienced than every Magical in that school bar Dumbledore. I don't want to be hearing about you putting someone in the Hospital Wing because they tripped someone up or used a racial slur. By all means, exact some kind of punishment, but always temper it. The Marauders came close to overstepping it from time to time, most of those times involving Severus, but we always reigned it in before we went too far. The incident with Sirius tricking Severus into encountering me during a full moon was the only time it went too far. And while Sirius would never have admitted it, that haunted him until after we left Hogwarts. Do not overstep it and become the very thing you're fighting against."
Harry took in everything Remus was saying. A large part of him understood and accepted what Moony was telling him. He had grown up with bullies like the Dursleys and Dudley's gang, and never wanted to be like them. However, there was a small part of him that was ashamed. After receiving his parents' journals and Sirius' words, and coming to the decision to take his life more serious and train, his initial thoughts were immediately about what he wanted to do to Malfoy and Bellatrix the next time he saw them. He did want to punish them, Bellatrix most of all, but Remus' words rang true.
Giving Remus a determined nod, knowing just what to say. "I solemnly swear it."
Remus nodded with a ghost of a smile. "I'll hold you to that. Now, about Fleur."
Harry could only groan as Remus' laughter rang out into the night.
Four weeks later, Harry found himself in a familiar situation, awake in the dead of night talking to Hedwig. Only this time, he was sat on the chimney of the Burrow, his Firebolt on his lap as he enjoyed a soft, warm breeze. The last month had seen Harry training every single day, mastering every spell he could manage with both of his wands. He got silent casting down on the vast majority of his spells; it was only the higher powered/destructive ones that he still had to verbalise but could get away with a whisper. He had made it a personal mission to be able to cast the Patronus Charm silently though, as well as learn the messenger version of the charm. He'd pushed himself to the limit, one time too far and had collapsed from magical exhaustion. The lecture he had received from Hermione and Mrs Weasley was intense, but the tongue-lashing he got from Fleur on one of her visits was enough to make Harry feel two inches tall. He had been in bed, just getting over the last of his weariness when she had stormed into the room. The entire short visit comprised of her scolding him without a single innuendo in sight before storming out, only coming back several days later and wringing a promise from him about being more careful. Once he had promised her, her mood turned back to playful. Harry's mood dipped a little bit thinking about Fleur. It was less than a week after his birthday that Fleur had moved out, finding a small place in a neighbourhood close to Charing Cross where the Leaky Cauldron was. She'd still come by once or twice a week to duel with him or generally just spend some time together. He always found it refreshing talking to Fleur, despite the inevitably of red cheeks making an appearance. He was pleased that that form of 'training' was progressing too as it would take more and more innuendos and flirting to make him blush. Harry found himself missing her between visits, and wasn't looking forward to having to wait longer between meeting up. It was surprising to him just how easily the two of them hit it off, even faster than his friendships with Hermione and Ron. Thinking about his other two friends caused his mood to dip further. Hermione had bowed out of the duelling aspect of the training; according to her, she thought she'd be better off on the research aspect of training, thinking of new spells or new ways to use old spells. Harry felt that it was also due to her not being able to get past level four of the training dummies. However, that wasn't the reason why Harry's mood had dipped regarding his bushy-haired friend. It was the argument they'd had upon their return from Diagon Alley when he described what he and Fleur had witnessed with Malfoy. He couldn't understand why she wouldn't even entertain the notion that Malfoy was a Death Eater, whereas she accused Harry of having a vendetta against Malfoy, albeit for good reason. But because neither Fleur nor he actually saw the Dark Mark on his arm, she wouldn't hear anymore about it. This had to led to some very frosty encounters for a little while, before both decided to not mention it again, or until Harry had concrete proof of his 'theories'. While Harry was in no way happy about this, he let it slide for now, but he knew it would be brought up again. It also didn't help that Ron would agree with Hermione when it was the three of them, but whenever it was just the two boys, he'd agree with Harry. Thinking about Ron made Harry frown even deeper. Their friendship had hit a lot speed bumps this last month. Ron never returned to the training, his ears always turning a deep scarlet whenever it was brought up; always giving feeble excuses to not take part in it.
Harry shook his head, clearing his head of negativity.
"It's finally time, Hedwig," he said, stroking his owl's chest as she seemed to bop her head in agreement. "Tomorrow's the day we head back to Hogwarts. Don't think any of them are going to be quite prepared for the new me. Is it bad that I'm hoping Malfoy or Snape tries something with me?"
Hedwig appeared to both shake and nod her head, or as much as she could, but Harry seemed to understand, nonetheless. "Malfoy is up to something, I know he is, and I will find out what it is. I'll keep my promise to Moony, but they'll be in for a rude awakening if and when they do."
Here, Harry heavily exhaled. "The same can be said for everyone else there. I can't be the doormat that I have been these past few years. I won't. If I falter, they'll walk all over me. Always following the loudest voice, the sheep of the Wizarding World. But it's time for a new shepherd to enter the fray. A shepherd who isn't afraid to take on the wolves. Harry-Freaking-Potter is about to show those who instil fear in others, what real fear is all about."
Thanks for stopping by. I know I might get a bit of flack for how I portrayed the Goblins in this, but it was an idea I had and haven't personally seen it in any other stories. Just a different interpretation of how they view themselves as 'warriors' and a different reason for wanting to help Harry. I never really got on with the popular reason being that if they didn't help against Voldemort, he would kill them if he came to power. To me, Voldemort isn't stupid enough to mess with those who already know how to manage the economy. He would then have to make sure all his underlings were trained, and let's face it, most Purebloods portrayed in in canon and especially fanon only care about getting more money rather than the intricacies of keeping a country's monetary system going. The only reason he killed the Goblins in Deathly Hallows was because he was pissed at Harry & Co for managing to escape. Dark Lords can have tantrums too.
As always, please review/follow/favourite and let me know if you enjoyed it. Next chapter, Hogwarts (finally).
As always, still looking for my Fairy.