The Lust of Gryffindors
Chapter 40: Another One Bites the Dust
The mood at Grimmauld felt strange to him. The house wasn't as dark as he remembered—either in decoration or in atmosphere—but it was mostly deserted and devoid of any noise. Remus was off doing something for Dumbledore, and wouldn't return until Christmas Day. Sirius tried to put a happy face on things, spinning yarns about his time with Cosette, but Harry could tell he was trying to force the good cheer. He stayed well away from anything related to Voldemort.
He retired early that first night, exhausted from a long term and the last party at the Pride. The next day was spent in blissful relaxation, sitting outside in Grimmauld's heated garden or reading quidditch magazines. Sirius went out to do last-minute Christmas shopping, but Harry wasn't in the mood to roam around Diagon Alley. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts.
By the end of the second day, he was bored. When midnight arrived and he couldn't sleep, he trudged down to the library to find something to read. It was already occupied.
Narcissa Malfoy reclined in a chaise lounge with a silk dressing gown wrapped around her, absorbed in a book. He hadn't seen her or Draco since he'd arrived. She looked up when he entered.
"Hello," he said cautiously.
"Mr. Potter."
He decided not to dance around the elephant in the room. "I'm sorry about your husband."
"Are you?"
"I didn't intend to kill him. I wanted to capture him. But he was trying to kill us."
"I'm aware of it. I saw the memory."
Harry was unsure how to take her matter-of-fact tone. She had sent him a brief thank-you note, after all, and Sirius had said she wasn't angry with him. But she was displaying very little emotion at the moment.
"I got your message," he said. "Honestly, I wasn't sure what to make of it."
"I meant it. You rendered a great service to both me and my son, whether you are aware of it or not. I am free of my contract, and no longer hunted so urgently."
"Your contract?"
"My marriage contract. I was beholden to House Malfoy, even more so than Lucius was. I was only able to defy him because I acted to save his heir from almost certain death."
"Ah. And how is Draco taking it?"
"Does it matter to you?"
"Not really, but I'm not asking to be cruel. I know it must be hard to lose a father, even one that would have sacrificed him to a monster."
Her face briefly softened and she looked away. "He is dealing with it as best as he can. It is none of your concern. He will be Lord Malfoy when he is of age, and I will see to it that he is ready."
"Does he know that it was me who, er…"
"Cast the killing blow? No."
Harry sighed at her phrasing, but didn't know what else to say.
"You needn't fear our wrath, Mr. Potter. Not that we could do anything to harm you anyway."
"You're welcome, I guess. And call me Harry."
"As you wish, Harry. Call me Lady Malfoy."
He snorted and went to the History section, searching for something that would be both absorbing and boring, the better to help him fall asleep.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Harry absently flipped through a book on using transfiguration in combat as he waited for the meeting to adjourn. He was growing to loathe transfiguration, but couldn't deny how essential it was in dueling. Some of the most powerful wizards and witches relied it on almost exclusively, using hordes of animals or golems to overwhelm their opponents. His skills in the discipline were good, but not great, and that would have to be addressed.
He was sitting in the library as the Order of the Phoenix met in the kitchen. Dumbledore had already revealed to him most of what they would be discussing, but didn't want him to attend. Too many of the older members would be uncomfortable with a teenager in their midst, even if it was The-Boy-Who-Lived.
The door to the library opened and a grinning Sirius strode in.
"There's my beloved godson! We have guests who want to see you."
Harry blinked as both Apolline and Fleur Delacour became visible behind Sirius. He hadn't seen either in a long time, and had forgotten how unnaturally beautiful they were. Their allures washed over him, and he shivered at the sensation.
"Er, hello!" he said awkwardly. "I didn't realize you would be here today. My dear godfather must have forgotten to tell me."
"Your dear godfather wanted it to be a surprise. You can give our lovely guests a tour of the old place, can't you?"
"I'd be honored."
Sirius leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Cosette is in London too, but she's staying at a muggle hotel. I'm off to visit her. I dare you to flirt with Fleur in front of her mother."
Harry rolled his eyes as Sirius tipped an imaginary hat to the Delacours and left the room.
"It's great to see you again. Both of you."
"Merci, 'Arry, and likewise," Fleur said, appraising his body with her eyes.
"How are you feeling?" Apolline asked. "You look more at ease than last we met."
"I am, thanks to your family. Are you joining the Order of the Phoenix?"
"We shall be its eyes and ears in France, you might say, should the conflict spill over into Europe."
"I'm glad to hear it."
Apolline closed the distance between them and lifted the fringes of his hair. "Yes," she said softly, "you are looking much better than the summer."
"Thank you. Are you staying the night?"
Her lips quirked and she glanced at her daughter. "Fleur will be. Unfortunately, I must return to France. I can count on you to entertain her, I hope?"
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Harry wrapped his cloak around himself and slipped out the door. The house was mostly empty, but he didn't want to give anyone the wrong impression—or rather, the right impression—if he got caught. He'd given both Fleur and Apolline a tour of Grimmauld earlier in the afternoon. Apolline had left soon after, but Fleur had an appointment at Gringotts the next day, and would be sleeping here.
Sirius had conveniently provided her with a room not far from his. She'd spent much of the evening in it, claiming the need to rest. Though nothing was said outright, her eyes had made the invitation to share her bed quite clear.
Harry knocked softly on her door. Fleur opened it wearing nothing but a blue negligee, so sheer that it was almost transparent. She frowned at the dark corridor.
"Oh. Sorry," he whispered, and removed the hood of his cloak.
She smirked at his floating head and stepped aside so he could enter. Her legs were uncovered, and the contours of her naked body were visible beneath the gossamer fabric. Firm nipples threatened to burst right through it, and he couldn't resist ogling her.
"I'm happy you're here, Fleur. I didn't think you'd set foot in Britain again."
"I did not wish to. Zis place is rainy and full of barbarians."
He laughed. Her attitude certainly hadn't changed. "Why did you come back?"
"Your goblins. I wish to be a curse breaker one day, and Gringotts will allow me to take an apprenticeship wiz one of zeirs. Unpaid, but I do not need ze money."
"Ah. I wondered why you had an appointment there. Wouldn't that mean you'd have to live here?"
"For a time, perhaps. I can endure ze English if I get something in return. And maybe I will be able to 'elp wiz your Dark Lord problem."
Though she didn't admit it, Harry suspected she felt the need to prove herself. Her performance in the tournament probably hadn't done much for her self-esteem, and Fleur Delacour was an extremely proud witch.
"Just don't get yourself killed. Things will probably get very dangerous soon."
She narrowed her eyes, and it confirmed his suspicions. "You needn't worry about me. It's you who finds 'imself constantly under attack."
"I can't argue with that."
"Make yourself comfortable. Would you like a drink?"
"Er, sure," he said, feeling a little odd about her playing hostess while she was a guest.
He removed his cloak and sat down on the bed. He was wearing only a t-shirt and shorts beneath it, and left them on for the moment. She went to a small table and poured them both a measure of whiskey. Harry didn't miss the way she bent over to do so, or the way her ass pressed so wonderfully into the fabric of her negligee. It was clearly done to tease him.
Fleur chose to sit in a chair rather than join him on the bed. They sipped their drinks in silence, merely watching each other. It reminded him of their awkward first meeting in the Beauxbatons carriage. Though they had become friends of a sort, they had little in common when they weren't having sex or mocking each other.
"Did you enjoy your travels last summer?" he ventured.
She shrugged. "Je suppose. My cousin can be agacant, and eet is difficult for veela to go certain places, especially among muggles. We stand out."
"Yes, you do."
"I did enjoy Eastern Europe. Zere are more veela. Prague was a delight."
"I'll have to visit sometime."
She snorted delicately, as if the idea of Harry Potter in Prague was absurd. She said nothing more afterwards, choosing to examine him from head to toe.
"You are taller. More confident. But your 'air is still 'orrible."
"Thank you. You're as beautiful and French as ever."
"Merci. You are quite ze fighter now too, it seems."
"Maybe. I wasn't exactly terrible in the tournament, if you recall."
She smiled and took a sip of her drink. "I suppose not. Do you zink you can best me in zat bed now, leetle boy?"
He laughed as her allure washed over him. It was pleasant, but so much more aggressive than her mother's. He had forgotten that sex with Fleur often resembled combat.
"We'll see, won't we, little girl?"
"Oui, we shall."
She made no move to join him. Instead she teased him with her allure, demanding that he make the first move. It would appeal to her vanity, and prove that she was irresistible. Harry decided to stay where he was, just to frustrate her.
Fleur's eyes flashed with amusement. "Are you disappointed zat maman did not stay for ze night?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know why."
Harry examined her expression. Would Apolline have revealed their liaison to her daughter? She had said they shared lovers, but their relationship was confusing. It certainly wasn't beyond Fleur to trick him into a confession. When he didn't answer, the room filled with her tinkling laughter.
"I am aware zat she seduced you, 'Arry. And zat your godfather is very fond of Cosette's dog."
He smiled. "Why don't we keep both of those things to ourselves?"
"Did she taste as sweet as me?" she asked coyly.
"Yes, she did. Sweeter, in fact."
"And were you 'oping to bed us at ze same time?"
Based on her smirk, it was probably futile to lie. She could read the truth in his eyes. He hadn't exactly hoped to have a threesome with them, but it was the kind of taboo fantasy that was irresistible. Mother and daughter. Veela mother and daughter. It crossed so many lines that his mind went there of its own accord.
"I like your mother's allure. It's very soothing," he answered. "I owe her, and if she wanted something like that to happen—well, who am I to deny her?"
Fleur laughed again. "Such presumption. Perhaps if you visit us over ze summer, you will discover if it would earn you a curse in ze back—or an invitation."
She was clearly mocking him, dangling a forbidden carrot in front of his nose, but it was impossible to tell if she was serious. Her eyes gave away nothing. It was exactly the kind of thing she'd say to embarrass him.
"I guess we'll find out, assuming I live through the summer."
"Gabrielle will be very upset if you don't show up. I 'ave a letter for you. She is determined to 'ave you when she is old enough."
"Seriously?"
"Oui. She smelled your presence on maman. Let us 'ope you are available in five or six years."
Harry swallowed. Sweet fucking Merlin. An entire family of veela women were willing to sleep with him? Even as a fantasy, it was ridiculous. He grew instantly aroused as lurid images flowed through his mind. If the opportunity truly arose—
He sighed when he realized that Fleur was manipulating him with her allure. She had been subtly increasing its power as she spoke.
"Stop that. You're just messing with my head, aren't you?"
"Peut-etre. Eet is quite fun. I must wake early. Shall we dispense wiz ze pleasantries?"
"Hell yes."
She smirked and slipped out of her negligee. It fell to the floor, and Harry couldn't help but stare at her body. Her skin had the same unearthly perfection that he remembered, and her breasts looked a little fuller. The little stripe of silver hair between her legs remained, and her nipples were already enticingly hard.
Her allure washed over him, and he found himself undressing without realizing it. He stood before her with his cock out, unconsciously stroking it as she watched. Fleur went to the bed and placed a foot on it. She wriggled her toes.
"Zey 'ave been so lonely wizout you, 'Arry," she pouted cutely. "Worship zem for me."
He very much wanted to obey her. In the last six months, he had forgotten what it was like to be enthralled by such a command. But he was older and stronger now, and his stubbornness hadn't diminished.
"I think I'll pass. Feet don't do it for me, especially when they're French."
She reached for his cock. A single finger caressed his cheek. "Please, mon amour. Don't you wish to satisfy me?"
He breathed in deeply as her presence seemed to suffuse the very air. "Yes, I do, but you'll have to call for a house elf if you want your toes sucked."
Fleur squeezed his cock playfully. "I suppose you 'ave gotten stronger."
"You sound disappointed."
"Not at all. So 'ave I."
Harry pulled her into a kiss, delighting at the feel of her breasts pressed against him. He quickly lost himself in it. She stroked him with the gentlest of grips while he explored her body with his hands. They stood and kissed for whole minutes, each luxuriating in the slow sensuality of it. She was the one who broke it.
Her purple eyes looked as if they were on fire. She pushed him toward the bed. "Get on your back."
Harry smiled as their familiar dynamic reasserted itself. He had no objection whatsoever to her demand, but didn't want to make things easy on her.
"Say please."
Her allure intensified, as did the desire to please her. He could almost feel her body on top of his, riding him until he couldn't stand it any longer. He closed his eyes and reveled in it.
"I'm waiting," he whispered.
Fleur kissed his cheek and responded just as softly. "Please."
"I suppose I can do that for you."
She pushed him onto the bed before he could sit down. Within seconds, she was on top of him. Not bothering with foreplay, Fleur held his cock upright and then buried it inside the furnace between her legs. Harry groaned at the sensation. Her slick heat was overpowering, and he loved the fact that she wanted him so badly.
She leaned forward to kiss him. "A single battle does not win ze war."
Fleur closed her eyes and began riding him with excruciating slowness. She teased both of them, grinding her hips and barely removing any of his length. She was so incredibly soft inside. Unnaturally so, he realized, now that he had so much experience. Harry reached up and fondled her perfect breasts. Every time he rolled her hard pink nipples between his fingers, she squeezed him with her muscles and blasted him with her allure. It was an obvious effort to break down his resistance, and made him mad with lust for her. The slow, sensual grinding wasn't enough to satisfy.
"I want to be on top," he said.
"Tant pis pour toi."
Harry didn't know what that meant, and didn't care. In one swift motion, he rolled them both over. By now it was a well-practiced maneuver, and he managed to keep his cock inside her. She was surprised to find herself on her back, and gasped when he forced her knees past her shoulders. He grinned at her expression and dropped his weight, pinning her to the bed.
Even though she could barely move, her eyes sparkled with delight and the promise of retribution. "Well?"
He began sliding into her slowly, savoring the way her flesh parted for him. He wanted to fuck her hard so badly, but teasing her the way she had teased him was irresistible. She breathed out each time he filled her. Her hands grabbed his thighs, encouraging him to go faster. When he refused, her allure spiked with a demand that he could no longer resist.
Harry groaned in bliss and began pounding her. His thighs slammed into her ass, burying his full length, and she cursed in French with each thrust. He pressed her deeper into the bed, using the leverage to drive into her as roughly as he could. Her depths squeezed his cock so wonderfully that he gave up trying to please her and sought only the ecstasy of release.
Fleur grunted and pushed against his chest, but her ankles wrapped around his neck in invitation. She panted for air as he overpowered her. He wasn't sure how long he could keep up such a forceful pace, but wanted to make her swear and moan before he was finished.
She finally whimpered and reached between her legs. A few caresses of her clit and she came undone. Her allure intensified so sharply that Draco probably felt it on the fifth floor. Harry stopped fucking her as it overpowered him. He couldn't concentrate on anything but the perfect grip of her pussy as it contracted. Her release drove him over the edge, but he stayed still as his belly quivered and his cock unloaded thick bursts of cum deep inside her.
His weight still pinned her to the bed as they slowly relaxed. She found the strength to push him off, and he moved to his back.
"Bloody hell," he told the ceiling.
"Oui," she agreed breathlessly.
It suddenly occurred to him how much noise they had just made.
"Er, did you cast a silencing charm earlier, by chance?"
"Of course."
"Oh, thank God. I always forget."
She rolled on top of him again. "I don't. And we're going to need it."
His cock was softening and soaked with their fluids, but Fleur grabbed it and inserted it into her warmth anyway. She thrust her hips into his, her walls gripping him tightly, and stared at him with a predatory gaze.
"Get hard again," she commanded.
Her allure flooded the room. Harry blinked at the power, and realized that she may have been holding back on him at Hogwarts. This felt more like her mother's at its strongest, and his cock obeyed the order. It slowly grew hard, and he looked up to find her eyes almost glowing. Her hair was disheveled and seemed to flow behind her in a breeze.
Fleur leaned forward and pinned his wrists to the bed. She kissed him fiercely, her hips writhing against his. His cock swelled from the friction, and soon she was driving herself down onto him.
"Such a silly English boy," she whispered. "You 'ave no idea what you're in for."
What followed was more like a wrestling match than sex. It was by far the roughest encounter Harry had ever experienced. Fleur pinned him to the bed and impaled herself on him. She pushed and pulled and clawed and bit. He yanked on her hair until she growled. Even their kisses were violent. Her allure raged around him like a tempest, and it was all he could do to remain conscious.
When she briefly tired, he took control and pounded her from behind until she wailed. For hours they tried to conquer each other. Fleur submitted to his harshest treatment, but it wasn't the kind of submission that Daphne enjoyed. There wasn't a submissive bone in her veela body.
Harry had never experienced anything like it. He was almost certain he had blacked out at one point. By the end of their session, he was exhausted, dehydrated, scratched, and bruised. He felt like he'd just mated with a feral animal, one that had forced him to fight to earn the privilege.
He fell asleep in her bed that night, and woke the next morning with her wet pussy in his face. She made love to him tenderly this time, and he didn't bother to resist while she almost controlled his body. Her allure overpowered him so wonderfully that he nearly cried in ecstasy before she was finished.
He was relieved when she left for her appointment. If the night had shown what a veela was truly capable of, he thanked Merlin that there weren't any in Hogwarts. Fleur would have torn through the Pride like a cyclone. He had no idea whether she had planned for such a ferocious encounter. Had she been trying to prove that she was a better lover than her mother? Sleeping with both of them at the same time might actually kill him.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"There you have it, gentlemen," the Headmaster said with a pleased smile. "Those are the objects we're searching for."
The three of them—Harry, Sirius, and Dumbledore—sat around the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore had just shown them the memory of a meeting between Tom Riddle and a dowager named Hepzibah Smith. Harry found it strange to watch a younger Tom Riddle. The man had been good-looking and charming in his youth, a far cry from the serpentine monster he would become.
"They didn't look very impressive for founder's heirlooms," he said. "The Ravenclaw diadem we destroyed was beautiful."
Dumbledore shrugged. "They are over a thousand years old. I doubt Slytherin intended a locket to be his legacy, and Lady Hufflepuff was not given to displays of grandeur."
Sirius sat back with a puzzled look on his face. "I swear I've seen that locket somewhere before. Moony and I were examining something like it when Kreacher threw a wobbly and took it from us."
"I don't think we're lucky enough to find one here, Padfoot."
"Maybe not, but I remember that snake sigil. Kreacher!"
The old elf popped into the kitchen, still stooped but wearing a clean dish towel. Narcissa had insisted on it if he were going to be serving her during her stay.
"Why does blood-traitor Master call Kreacher?" he sneered.
"Stop using that word around me, you ugly little beast. Bring me the locket you hid from me and Moony last summer."
He didn't leave the room. Instead, he twitched and started shaking, trying to resist the compulsion of a direct order.
"K-Kreacher must not. Kreacher promised to—"
The elf gasped and fell to his knees.
"Your master is ordering you to retrieve that locket!" Sirius yelled.
Kreacher pounded his fist on the floor. "No! Bad Master mustn't know! Kreacher must destroy it!"
Harry was growing uneasy with the elf's tantrum. It looked as if he might be in pain. "Sirius—"
"What is going on in here?" Narcissa Malfoy asked coldly from the doorway. "Why are you mistreating my elf?"
"He's not your elf," Sirius retorted. "He's on loan to you. And he's refusing to obey a direct order."
Narcissa frowned and stared at Kreacher. He looked back at her with pleading in his huge eyes.
"Kreacher—"
"Mistress, please, Kreacher promised!"
"Promised whom?"
"M-master Regulus!" he croaked.
There was a confused silence afterwards. No one in the room had expected that response.
"Rescind your order, and I will talk to him," she said imperiously to Sirius.
"It is perhaps the best course of action," Dumbledore said. "She is no longer our enemy."
Sirius rolled his eyes, knowing he would be able to get the locket one way or another. "I take back my order, Kreacher. But you are to tell Lady Malfoy everything she wants to know. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Master," Kreacher said with a wince.
"Come," Narcissa ordered, and strode from the room.
The three looked at each other, unable to decide whether what had just happened was important. The elf was famously recalcitrant, especially when it came to Black family heirlooms. They spoke casually about where the locket and cup might be until Narcissa returned. When she did, she looked ashen.
"What did he say?" Sirius asked.
She held forth her hand, and in it rested the exact locket they had observed in the pensieve.
"Merlin!" he hissed. "Where did you get that?! That little bastard! He's been hiding—"
"Quiet," Narcissa said lowly. "He just told me a rather surprising story."
She allowed Dumbledore to take the locket carefully from her hand, and then sat down and explained to them Kreacher's revelations. The tale of a traitorous Regulus Black, a lake full of inferi, and a suicide mission left the table in shock.
"Holy shit," Sirius whispered. "So, my brother—he—he betrayed Voldemort after all."
"It seems so," Dumbledore said, and patted his hand. "Regulus did a very noble thing. His sacrifice has brought us one step closer to achieving our goal. This is the item we seek."
"What is that thing?" Narcissa asked. "I could feel how dark it was just holding it. It whispered things."
"I'm sorry, but I can't explain further," the Headmaster answered. "You must tell no one what you learned today, as it is covered under the terms of your vow. Suffice it to say that we are looking for items that hold personal interest for Voldemort, especially ones of historical value. This locket once belonged to Salazar Slytherin himself."
"Indeed?"
"Indeed. Unfortunately, it must be destroyed."
Sirius frowned. "Kreacher's been trying to destroy it all these years? To obey Regulus' last order?"
"He has tried everything in his power," Narcissa said. "He claims it refuses to open, and does not yield to heat or pressure or any magic he knows."
Harry examined it where it lay on the table. The snake on it looked alive, almost as if it were writhing in the light.
"It's a snake, Headmaster. I might be able to talk to it."
Dumbledore glanced at him and then at Narcissa.
"What? Everyone already knows I'm a parselmouth."
"Are you certain that is still the case, Harry? Have you tried to speak to snakes since last summer?"
"Why would—oh."
It hadn't even occurred to him that losing the horcrux might also mean losing his gift for parseltongue. The thought was unpleasant. Even if the ability came from Voldemort, it still felt like it was part of his identity. But if he had lost it, what did it matter if Narcissa Malfoy knew? She would never guess the reason, and couldn't betray them anyway.
"Only one way to find out," he said. He looked at the shimmering snake and tried to speak. "Hello."
The snake stopped moving and stared at him, as if awaiting instructions. He couldn't resist a little smile.
Narcissa gave him a guarded look, and Sirius shuddered. "That was definitely hissing."
Dumbledore squeezed his shoulder. "Very well. I suspect you're right that only a parselmouth can open the locket. Let us not linger. This abomination must be destroyed before it can disappear again. Fawkes!"
The phoenix flashed into the room a moment later, the Sword of Gryffindor clasped in its talons, somehow able to understand the Headmaster's intentions all the way from Hogwarts.
"Thank you, my friend."
Dumbledore took the sword from him, and Fawkes flew to the top of some cabinets to watch. He raised the sword over his head, preparing a strike.
"Everyone stand back and draw your wands. Shield charms at the ready. Command it to open, Harry, and I shall destroy it."
"Maybe we should let Kreacher watch this too, since he tried so hard?" Harry said.
"A very thoughtful gesture," Dumbledore agreed.
Sirius called for him, and the elf popped into the room, looking much the worse for wear from disobeying his Master's orders.
"We're going to fulfill Regulus' order for you, Kreacher," Sirius said. "You, er, did the right thing by telling us. He would be proud."
He felt uncomfortable complimenting the elf, given their mutual animosity, and the look on Kreacher's face said the same.
There was breathless anticipation in the air, and everyone looked at Harry. Narcissa seemed both confused and entranced by what she was witnessing.
He took a deep breath and hissed. "Open."
The locket burst open and a wash of magic swept across the room, forcing everyone to take a step back. A glowing red eye appeared from within it, fixating immediately on Dumbledore. A vision of a young girl appeared above the locket, smiling and laughing and looking directly at him.
"Albie!" she said. "I see your heart, dear brother. I know you would never hurt me. We can be together again! All things are possible with magic. You must only—"
"Headmaster!" Harry yelled.
Dumbledore had turned white, seemingly hypnotized by the vision. The sword was still raised above his head, but he was faltering, unable to bring it down upon the young girl.
The locket turned its attention to Narcissa. She went pale as a vision of Draco's face appeared next to the girl.
"Mother. I know your heart's desire. Your position shall be restored. You will finally be free to live, and I will be safe and victorious. We can rise to unimaginable heights, if only you will—"
Before it could speak further, Harry pulled the sword out of the Headmaster's grasp. Just as he prepared to stab the locket, an image of his mother rose before him. She opened her mouth to speak, but he didn't hesitate. Whatever this thing was, it wasn't his mother. He stabbed the locket before she could say anything. There was a loud hiss, followed by an unearthly scream. The locket shook as black smoke poured from it, leaving the smell of sulfur in the air. When it dissipated, the remains of the horcrux lay harmlessly on the table.
Dumbledore stared at it with a lost look. Everyone in the room seemed shaken.
"Thank you, Harry," he said softly.
"No problem, sir."
He was grateful the locket hadn't turned its attention to him first. He had seen memories of his mother as she was, and wasn't tempted to listen to some dark version of her. Even so, the visions were eerily powerful. He had no idea who the young girl was, but she had nearly brought the Headmaster to his knees.
Fawkes sang a brief, cheering song, and the atmosphere in the room lightened. The only person with a smile on his face was Kreacher, who looked ready to cry with happiness.
Narcissa cleared her throat. "E-excuse me. I need a drink."
She walked out, leaving everyone to stare at what remained of the horcrux.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
By Christmas day, the mood in the house had vastly improved. Not only had they successfully taken out another horcrux, but the Weasleys had shown up to exchange gifts and enjoy a Christmas dinner with everyone. Their family dinner had already taken place at the Burrow, but Molly still had to be talked into letting the elves prepare the one at Grimmauld.
Even Kreacher seemed somewhat content. He was helping Dobby, who kept regarding him dubiously as they used magic to prepare a dozen different dishes at once.
With the twins present, laughter and good cheer replaced the silence in the old house. They had brought charmed Christmas crackers which turned everyone into animals or gave them strange appendages like house elf noses or reindeer antlers. Molly tolerated their antics for once.
They crowded around the table—Sirius, Remus, Harry, six Weasleys, and Tonks—and ate while sharing amusing stories about their Hogwarts days. Ron insisted on explaining to Harry and Ginny why the Cannons' prospects would improve in the spring. Everyone stayed far away from any topic related to Voldemort.
Narcissa didn't eat with them, and Draco refused absolutely to leave his fifth-floor sanctuary, but a family reunion of a different sort was taking place in a nearby drawing room. Tonks had brought her mother with her, and the two Black sisters were talking and eating together privately. Harry was relieved they couldn't hear any shouting or spells, and Tonks seemed to share his relief.
Small presents were exchanged afterwards. Among other things, he received another Weasley sweater. Sirius gave him a jack-in-the-box as a gag gift. Its bobble-head popped up and insulted anyone in the vicinity. The twins secretly slipped him a gift of their own design. They called it Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, and insisted that he should carry some with him at all times.
He'd sent a variety of gifts of his own by owl. He'd never had so many friends to send things to, and it was a good feeling.
Ron was wearing his present from Tamsin, which produced no end of amusement for Harry. She had given him a jersey from her favorite quidditch team, Puddlemere United. Ron's ears glowed red when he was teased, but he quietly admitted that he had sent her a Cannons jersey in return. They had extracted promises that each would wear them on Christmas Day.
Harry was surprised by the sweetness of the gesture. Tamsin was obviously a good influence.
"Are you going to wear it at Hogwarts?" he asked.
Ron smirked. "Maybe privately, if you know what I mean. You didn't tell anyone else about what you saw—right, mate? Especially not the twins?"
"Of course not. I wouldn't turn them loose on you."
"Thank Merlin. Enough about birds. Let's go listen to the wireless. They're re-airing the World Cup for Christmas."
The Weasleys didn't spend the night, which left Harry disappointed. He loved the way they filled the house with noise. He would have liked a chance to sneak away with Ginny too, but Molly was keeping a watchful eye on them, perhaps hopeful that something would blossom between them.
Something was indeed blossoming, but not in a way she would approve of.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Ready for your real gift, Harry?"
"My real gift?"
"Surely you didn't think the jack-in-the-box was your real present."
"You don't have to buy me firebolts all the time, you know."
Sirius rolled his eyes. "Kreacher!"
The elf appeared in the back garden with a wrapped box in his hands. Sirius and Kreacher had gotten along better in the last few days, with Sirius delegating him little tasks with far more politeness than usual. Dobby was often around, but he was splitting his time between Hogwarts and Grimmauld Place, and they didn't want to trouble him too much.
Sirius took the gift and presented it to Harry. "Thank you, Kreacher, that will be all."
He didn't reply as he popped away, but neither did he glare at anyone.
Harry unwrapped the box curiously. He looked up with a grin when he discovered dozens of familiar, shrunken flasks.
"You're awesome, Padfoot. This is going to make a lot of people very happy."
"I bet it will. There's over seventy doses there, hopefully enough to satisfy all your friends' perversions. Give my best to your secret club."
"I will. You're going to thoroughly rehabilitate your reputation in Gryffindor."
"Just let me know if they want any of my hairs to go with the potions."
"Ugh. Did you have to go there?"
"Just sayin'. I know how irresistible this body is. Speaking of perversity, you wanna visit Madame Clarissa's later? They've got a new girl with the most amazing flexibility you've ever seen. She dances, and she can lick herself."
Harry snorted, involuntarily thinking of Pippa Pemberton's acrobatics. Somehow, he didn't think she was spending her holiday in Knockturn Alley. "No thanks. Some of us don't need brothels for a good time."
"Don't knock it till you've tried it. A little afternoon delight always hits the spot, even when you pay for it. In fact, it's better that way. You don't have to buy them dinner afterwards."
"I hope you don't talk that way to Cosette."
"Nah, I'm always on my best behavior. We've actually become good friends, and Merlin, she is hot."
"Yes, she is. And she's a veela. The kind that throws fireballs. I'm amazed you didn't get set on fire for molesting someone's dog when you were in Switzerland."
"No idea what you're talking about."
"How is Antoinette these days? She didn't have a litter of black puppies, did she?"
Sirius punched him in the arm, happy to see his godson joking around again. "No, but I did have to stop her from humping my leg a few times. She has fond memories of old Padfoot."
"I can't decide if you're some kind of stud or a reprobate."
"Why can't it be both? Cosette certainly doesn't mind."
"Did she go back to Switzerland or is she still in a hotel?"
"She's gone. Just came by for a visit. Might have brought her back to Grimmauld if it weren't under fidelius. I took her shopping in muggle London and bought her a whole wardrobe of designer clothes. You should have seen the looks we got."
Harry was pleased that Sirius was making a connection with a woman that didn't involve a brothel. It was clear that they weren't in a serious relationship, but it wouldn't surprise him if that changed. His godfather seemed oddly wistful when he mentioned her.
"They probably thought she was a super model. You really like her, don't you?"
"I do, and she's rather fond of me too."
"Does she have some sort of head injury?"
"Nope, she loves big dogs, and I know how to scratch her itch."
Harry couldn't decide whether to laugh or groan. "You better not be saying what I think you're saying."
"I'm not, but you've got a filthy mind. I should probably scold you for that, but we both know I approve."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Harry had a hard time falling asleep again the next night. He was used to the stress and noise of Hogwarts, and the big house was just too silent. It almost encouraged him to think about Voldemort. He went to the library, hoping to find another book to take his mind off things.
Just as before, Narcissa Malfoy was reclining on a chaise, a book in her lap. Except this time there was a glass in her hand, and two bottles of red wine at her feet.
She looked up when he entered. "Potter. Back again?"
He detected the faintest hint of a slur in her speech. "Can't sleep. You?"
"The same. I recommend staying away from the Dark Arts section. It won't make you drowsy."
He snorted and grabbed a random history book from the shelves. On a whim, he sat down across from her. Their conversations had always been civil but cold, and he wondered if she would be more open if she were drunk. Especially after her experience with the locket.
Narcissa raised an eyebrow. "You're staying?"
"No reason we can't share the same room, milady. Assuming you can stand my presence."
"It's not my house."
"Doesn't mean I want to irritate you on purpose."
"I suppose I can tolerate another Gryffindor. I've been tolerating one for months now. You're all the same."
He laughed, forcibly reminded of Daphne at her most condescending. "Well, I've learned that Slytherins aren't all the same, and thank Merlin for that."
"Oh? You've made some friends there?"
"Maybe," he said, wondering if she might be willing to shed some light on an issue he couldn't understand. "Can I ask you a personal question?"
"No."
"Er, how 'bout I ask it anyway, and you can ignore me if you don't want to answer."
She smirked, but closed her book and gave him her full attention. "Go ahead."
"I know you had an arranged marriage. I know you didn't control the, er, terms. I have a friend in the same situation, or she will be one day, and I'm wondering if there's a way for her to escape it."
"Who?"
"I'm not saying. I just don't understand why such a thing still exists. She seems to accept it as natural, but I know she's unhappy."
"It is natural, when wealth and influence and family lines are at stake."
He decided to tread carefully, not wanting to upset her or refer directly to the death of Lucius. "If you say so. I just want to know if she can escape if she wanted."
"Of course she can, just as my sister did. She would merely have to give up her name, her connections, her wealth, her family's good will, and her future. Does that seem like a wise course of action?"
"I don't understand why it has to be that way."
"There's a lot you don't understand about our world, Mr. Potter."
"Call me Harry, please. 'Mr. Potter' sounds like an insult coming from Slytherins."
"Perhaps it is."
He rolled his eyes and didn't answer. Talking to her was exactly like talking to Tracey and Daphne when they were at their most oblique. He didn't want to question her beliefs too harshly, suspecting she would just get irritated and leave the room.
Narcissa drained the dregs of her glass and refilled it almost to the brim.
"What precisely was inside the locket you destroyed?" she asked.
"Something of Voldemort's that needed to die."
She shuddered at his casual use of that name. "Well, obviously, Harry. Why not tell me more? I can't betray you, nor would I be inclined to do so. I am still marked for death should the Dark Lord win."
"I'm sorry. I can't say. But you did a good thing handling Kreacher like that. It was important for us to find that locket. Very important."
She took another drink and nodded contemplatively. Her eyes had taken on a glassy sheen from the wine. "What other baubles of the Dark Lord do you seek?"
He frowned, part of him wanting to tell her, another not really trusting her no matter what vows she had taken. Dumbledore hadn't told her about the Cup, so why should he?
"Things connected to the founders, I think. Or personal things. Like that book your husband gave to Ginny Weasley."
"I assume you mean the book he was tortured for losing. What do you know of it?"
"I'm not sure how much I can say. Just that it was very dark and almost killed a lot of people at Hogwarts. We got lucky and destroyed it."
"And the Dark Lord trusted Lucius with it," she mused.
"I guess so."
He watched her closely. She didn't seem irritated with the mention of her late husband, nor did she seem to be aware of how much havoc the diary had caused.
"It was not a wise move on his part. My husband was a powerful wizard, and often a cunning one, but he was also sometimes a very great fool."
"No offense, but I think he was straight-up evil more than he was a fool."
Her lips quirked. "Evil is in the eye of the beholder, Harry, just like beauty."
"We'll have to disagree on that."
Narcissa's gaze lingered on him until he grew uncomfortable. She was a beautiful woman, but her eyes were haughty and unreadable, even when she was drunk. He had only seen her display warmth toward Draco and Kreacher.
"Do you know who my sister is?" she asked curiously.
"Tonks' mum. Andromeda, right?"
A pained look crossed her face, and she looked momentarily vulnerable. "No, my other sister. Bellatrix Lestrange."
"I've heard the name. I know she was a Death Eater. I didn't realize she was your sister."
"She is currently in Azkaban. She was once the Dark Lord's favorite pet. I would go so far as to call her evil. She was sadistic even as a child."
"Okay," he said, wondering why she was telling him this.
She met his eyes and took another long drink from her glass.
"If the Dark Lord trusted Lucius with something precious to him, he would almost certainly do the same with Bellatrix. She is fanatically devoted to him."
"Do you know where she might have hidden something?"
"The Lestrange estate is in a shambles. There is nothing there. But I became the legal trustee of her vault after she and all her in-laws were sent to Azkaban for life."
"And?" he said breathlessly, willing her to continue.
Narcissa smiled at the unconcealed anticipation on his face, and drew out her response. "I only set foot in her vault once. There was some gold, which I had no need of. But it was filled with cursed objects."
"Can you still get inside?"
"The key is currently resting upstairs in a drawer. I took it with me when I fled."
Harry's face split into a smile, and he almost laughed.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed the reunion with Fleur. I can't promise a Harry/Fleur/Apolline scene, but remember that I'll eventually write a collection of omakes/oneshots/alternate scenes in this universe. If there's something in particular you want to see, don't hesitate to say so. This might be a smut fic, but I can't include everything without making people go wildly out of character or losing control of the plot.
Narcissa is so much fun to write. I won't spoil anything, but next chapter is one of my favorites. As always, thanks for reading.