Chapter - 19

"text" - conversations in English

"text" - non-English conversations

text - thought

"All seems good, Mr. Potter."

Specialist healer Jonathan Fowler was carefully removing the bandage that covered Harry's right face, via magic of course, and revealing a long scar underneath it. He then took a small mirror and showed it to Harry. "That is as far as I could go. Some cursed scar just refused to go away. I've seen them a lot."

Harry was sitting inside Healer Fowler's examination room. Looking at his image within the mirror, Harry instinctively reached up and touched his face. "It's not as bad as I expected. I was fully expecting to see a mini Grand Canyon carved into my face," he said.

Healer Fowler chuckled at Harry's remark. "I'm glad you didn't go berserk. Some of my patients did the moment they saw their new, unexpectedly remade face. I must say you healed quite fast. Then again, I'm not expecting any less from someone who survived two murder attempts."

"Four," Harry corrected Healer Fowler. "Crouch Jr. came very close in succeeding to kill me. I was lucky. His curse just grazed my skin, that's all. It's still super painful, though."

"Hmm... I would expect no less from such a curse," said Healer Fowler thoughtfully. "But then again throughout my profession, virtually all the victims of the Killing Curse could no longer speak so we don't really know what it felt like being touched by it. You're the only exception."

"People getting killed by the Killing Curse still happens to this day?" asked Harry, surprised. "I thought the practice went dead when Voldemort died. Sorry."

Harry could see the healer flinched a bit when he mentioned the dark wizard's name and apologized for it.

Healer Fowler waved off Harry's apology. "Crimes happen every day. Death Eaters aren't the only one who's willing to kill, Mr. Potter. They just don't want you to know. They told us there is no need for the general public to know about it," said Healer Fowler, rolling his eyes.

"I see," said Harry. He then remembered something. "You said the word 'touched'. Are you assuming that the Killing Curse kills immediately the moment it touches your skin?"

Healer Fowler didn't reply at first. He helped Harry up from the examination chair and guided him towards the chair at his desk. He then went on to sit behind his desk. "That's what we were told," he said. "We were also told that the Killing Curse simply turned you off, just like you turn off the light in a room. I think it's more than that."

Harry said nothing at this point. He waited for the healer to continue.

"The Killing Curse ripped your soul from your body. I figure it'll be like waxing your legs or your face where you rip unwanted hairs off your skin. Poor muggles. That act has to be painful for the victim. They, unfortunately, as I said before, could never tell us. You're the only known survivor of a direct hit, but I highly doubt you can tell us anything," said Healer Fowler.

"You're right, I can't," Harry agreed. "All I remember are flashes of green light. That's about it. Still, it didn't kill me as it was supposed to. Why do you think that happened?"

Healer Fowler shrugged. "Maybe he was tired. Or maybe he didn't mean it. From what we learned about these Unforgiveable Curses, you have to mean it when you're using them. Also, you need to be in good shape as the curses draw a huge amount of energy from you. There's always a catch when it comes to dark magic."

"That happened to Voldemort too? I mean he's one of the most powerful wizards of all time, isn't he?"

"No idea. We can only speculate."

"You're quite knowledgeable for someone who works as a healer."

Healer Fowler smiled. "It's part of the job. As healers, we have to know what we're dealing with. What differentiates us from Aurors is that we don't go around arresting people. But anyway, you're well into your recovery. I'll let the nurse take you back to your bed so that you can have your rest. Good day to you, Mr. Potter."

Healer Fowler then signaled his nurse to take Harry back to his bed.

The funeral for Barty Crouch was held a week after his death. Harry couldn't attend it as he was still confined to his ward. His safety was another concern as well.

He spent the next two weeks after he was found at St. Mungo. He received quite a few outside visitors during that period. Some of them came from abroad. All of them were officials from their respective governments. One of them introduced himself as Mr. Delacour, from France. He came to visit three days before Harry was scheduled to be released from St. Mungo. Madame Bones was escorting him at that time. They talked quite a bit, mainly about the event at the Minister's residence and the Forest of Dean.

Harry somehow felt that he recognized Mr. Delacour. He however couldn't remember when and where he saw him.

Monday came. Harry was allowed to leave. Sirius wanted to bring him back to his flat but he refused.

"I can't, Sirius. I need to go back to Hogwarts right away. I've already missing classes for almost two weeks. God knows how much I need to catch up," he said. "I can continue with my recovery there. I'm sure Madame Pomfrey missed me by now."

Remus and Sirius escorted Harry on his way back to Hogwarts. They departed from the Ministry using Floo Network on Sunday afternoon. Cornelius Fudge sent them off from his office. Professor Dumbledore, Madame Pomfrey, a visible relief Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape meanwhile, were waiting for them on the other side.

Harry, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Lupin left the headmaster's office after the resident nurse did a quick check-up on him. She told Harry that as he was still under observation, he would need to visit the hospital wing at intervals prescribed by her.

Before, Harry tended to take for granted the distances he had to go through whenever he prowled within the cavernous castle. Not this time. The distance between the headmaster's office and the Gryffindor Tower seemed huge this time. He credited it to the fact that while his ankle might be fully cured, his feet remained unsteady. He also felt that he got tired very easily.

Remus theorized that Harry probably over-applied himself when he battled Crouch Jr. "There's only so much the body a teenager can take but you'll recover soon, Harry."

Remus left the moment they arrived at the entrance into the Gryffindor common room.

Professor McGonagall preceded Harry when entering the common room.

The common room went silent as he entered. The occupants went speechless as they watched him emerged from behind Professor McGonagall. Ron stared wide-eyed at him. Hermione cupped her mouth, muttering what he suspected to be his name. She was about to dash towards Harry when Professor McGonagall held up her hand, signaling her to wait. Hermione complied of course.

They probably noticed his newly acquired scar.

Professor McGonagall gave out a simple speech and instructed her students to give Harry all the help he needed.

"As Professor Dumbledore told you more than a week ago, that we pray for the crisis to conclude. We now have the conclusion and lucky for us, it is a good one. I know you have questions for Mr. Potter but I hope you can wait. Please let Mr. Potter rest. Lend your hand to him. Help him in any way you can. And you Mr. Potter," said Professor McGonagall, turning to Harry. "Please use this chance to recuperate and catch up with your studies. The teachers are available any time should you need help."

"Thank you, Professor."

Professor McGonagall nodded. She then took leave.

The Gryffindors converged around him the moment the portrait close behind Professor McGonagall. Hermione was the first to arrive, her arms wrapped around him. She then sobbed into his neck uncontrollably. As expected, torrents of questions came his way. Despite whatever it was Professor Dumbledore told them, his friends still wanted to know the story from his own mouth.

Lucky for Harry, Alicia and Katie stepped up and began dispersing the crowd.

"You heard what Professor McGonagall said! There will be time for questions! Now what he needs is some rest! Leave him alone or I'll report you to Professor McGonagall!" warned Alicia.

Feeling grateful for their intervention, Harry muttered thanks to them.

"No problem. You've been through hell, Harry. Get some rest. You need it," said Katie.

"Yeah, get some rest, Harry. We loved you," said Alicia.

Persuading Hermione to let go of Harry proved to be the biggest challenge. It took quite a lot of persuasion from the girls and Ron before she finally unwrapped her arms around Harry.

"I'll talk to you later, Hermione," Harry said to her. "I'll see you before dinner."

Hermione, whose tears still streaming down her face, nodded slowly.

"Come on, Harry," said Ron as he and Seamus went to Harry's either side. Holding Harry's arm, they assisted Harry to walk up the stairs towards his dormitory.

In truth, Harry didn't need any help. He may felt tired but he was well enough to be able to make the climb unassisted. But he was touched by the attention they showered him and decided not to refuse their help.

They were inside his dormitory. The Weasley's twin and many other boys joined them as well. Harry was lying on his bed. It had been a while since the last time he laid on it. St. Mungo's bed was nothing compared to what Hogwarts offered.

He was regaling to them what happened the night two weeks ago. Ron in turn gave him a complete rundown of what transpired at Hogwarts during his absence. He told Harry that he got worried when he saw Harry's bed was empty the next morning after he followed Snape out of the Great Hall. He and Hermione went to find Professor McGonagall during breakfast.

"We went to ask her about you but one look at her face was enough to tell us that something had gone badly wrong. She told us nothing though. She simply told us to wait. It wasn't until a day later Dumbledore announced during breakfast that Barty Crouch died and you had gone missing. You should have seen Hermione, Harry. She went into complete meltdown after hearing what Dumbledore said," said Ron.

"You got everyone worried, mate," said Fred. "Crouch died. You went missing. Mom and dad came to Hogwarts you know. Mom fainted at Dumbledore's office, I heard. She was completely inconsolable."

"That wasn't all. Do you remember that pretty girl from Slytherin, Fred? You know, the one that went to our table to hug Hermione right after Dumbledore's announcement?" asked George.

"Yeah, I remember. I have no idea what her name was though. It was a strange sight. A Slytherin hugging a Gryffindor and crying in front of everyone else? That never happened before. We just watched. We have no idea how to respond to that," said Fred.

Harry somehow knew whom they were talking about. Daphne Greengrass.

"The good news came three days later. They told us they found you, and that you were admitted to St. Mungo. We wanted to visit you, you know, but we can't. The Ministry put us under strict lockdown. But at least we can still send you get-well cards so that's good enough for us," said Dean.

"Did he tell you why he killed his own dad, Harry?" asked Ron. "We read about it in the Daily Prophet."

Harry racked his brain, trying to remember if Crouch Jr. made any mention about it. He then shook his head. "No. He told me he killed him though. He showed no remorse. None."

Ron nodded. "He's a Death Eater. I don't expect him to show any empathy."

"So who's replacing Barty Crouch?" asked Harry.

"Ludo Bagman, albeit temporarily. They probably decide on a permanent replacement for that position once the tournament is over," said Seamus.

"What surprises me is that the tournament is still on. I thought the visitors would scurry back to their country already once they heard the news," said Harry.

"That was the concern. There were talks about adjourning the tournament and reestablish it somewhere else deem safer. For a while, Dumbledore seemed to agree with it, I heard. It wasn't until three days ago that they decided to continue, albeit with tighter security measures," said Ron.

"I wouldn't expect anything less than that," said Harry. "I mean, they would be pretty scared, wouldn't they? I mean, I would."

"Well, I'm glad they decided not to cancel the tournament. I mean, we've waited for a long time for this. Imagine if they decide they won't be holding big tournaments in Britain anymore just because they thought we are forever unable to take care of our own affairs," said George.

"Yeah, that would be sad," said Harry. "So anyway, anyone wanna bet Percy is going after his boss's position?"

Everyone within the dormitory groaned loudly upon hearing this.

"Not him! He knows nothing about sports, Harry! He'll run the department like he's a Head Boy! I'll eat dragon dung if that ever happens!" Ron exclaimed.

"If Weatherby knows how to suck up to his new boss, he'll get the job," said Fred.

"How are you, Harry?"

Hermione was waiting for him down in the common room. They were going for dinner at the Great Hall.

"I'm fine," Harry replied. "Don't worry about me. How about you?"

Ron told Harry of how during his absences, Hermione ate very little. She also didn't study at all. "She's worried sick about you, mate," said Ron.

"I'm good," said Hermione. She glanced at Harry's new scar. "Does it hurt?"

Of course, Harry's new scar had become a subject of discussion by his dorm mates.

"I didn't know the Killing Curse could do that. All I know is that you die if it touches you even the slightest," said Neville.

George meanwhile commented that battle scars could be an attractive feature to have. "Some girls dig it, you know."

Harry however felt that it was a stupid theory. Nobody was going to be attracted to scars. It was simply an ugly feature to have.

Harry smiled and shook his head. "No, it doesn't. Don't worry about it, Hermione. Come on. Let's go to the Great Hall. I'm famished."

Together they both headed towards the portrait hole. Ron didn't join them. He was waiting for Lavender.

On his way out, he noticed that some of the Gryffindor girls couldn't stop staring at him. He however credited it to the fact that they were simply curious.

Much to his dismay, he received no less attention from everyone at the Great Hall. His friends from other houses and the visitors converged around him at the Gryffindor Table. Even Pansy and a few other Slytherins joined the crowd. Everyone there wanted to take a good look at him and listened to his story. The teachers had to come down from the High Table to disperse the crowd, with some difficulties, of course. It was only after they went back to their table that Harry could have a proper dinner.

Hermione ate quite a lot that night, much to Harry's relief. She was also visibly happy. Ron nudged Harry's rib and whispered, "Thank goodness you're back. She probably died of starvation if they never found you."

A few of the visiting schools' headmasters went to meet him near the end of the dinner, asking him about his welfare. Mr. Masato Harada, the headmaster of Mahoutokoro, presented him a set of Japanese herbal remedies that he said - via translation by Michiko - would help with his recovery. Harry took it and offered his thanks to him. Harada-San then left after that with other headmasters.

Michiko however decided to linger for a while. "I am so glad that you're here. I am very worried," she said. Like everyone else, she too took a glance at Harry's scar. She didn't make any comment about it, however. She just smiled at him and left without another word.

"She's cute," Seamus commented. "She seems familiar with you. You know her?"

"Yeap. Her name is Michiko."

"Hmm... cute name too. Bet she's older than us."

"She's fourteen. Just like us."

"Whoa! Really?"

"Yeah, she and one other serves as a translator for their contingent. That's why she gets to be here," Harry explained.

Dinnertime had reached its end. As before, Harry remained at his seat, waiting for the traffic to clear up a bit before making his way back to the Gryffindor Tower. He was glad that Professor Dumbledore decided not to do any speech about him returning to Hogwarts that night. He did that on Harry's first to the third year every time something concerning Harry crept up. During the waiting time, several of his friends like Cedric, Roger, Justin, and Anthony returned to his table to have a chat with him.

Harry and his friends left Gryffindor Table when the traffic at the Great Hall's entrance became sparse. After nearly two weeks of having to consume hospital-grade food, eating within the Great Hall felt like eating at a Michelin star restaurant. He felt very sleepy after eating a bit too much and was truly looking forward to the comfort and warmth his four-poster bed offered.

But just as he was about to turn into a corridor that led to Gryffindor Tower, Hermione suddenly grabbed his arm and steered him towards the Entrance Stairs.

"Where are you two going?" asked Ron.

"Go ahead. We'll see you back at the common room, Ron," said Hermione without looking back at Ron. She kept on steering Harry towards the Entrance Stairs.

"Where are we going, Hermione?" asked Harry as he followed Hermione down the stairs.

"Someone wants to see you," Hermione replied simply.

"Who?"

But Hermione didn't need to answer his question. He saw who was waiting for him the moment he arrived at the bottom of the stairs.

Daphne.

He also saw Fleur and Tracy standing a little further back from Daphne.

As he recalled, the three of them weren't part of the crowd that congregated around him during dinner earlier. Probably for the best, he thought. They won't be able to get near him anyway and the fact that they were too attractive might work against them.

Daphne slowly walked up to him and when she arrived in front of him, she reached up to his face and ran her finger along the scar that marred his face. And without warning, she wrapped her arms around Harry's neck, buried her face into Harry's chest, and cried.

For a moment there, Harry was unsure of what to do. He gingerly placed his hands against Daphne's back, wondering whether he should push her away or just let her have her moment.

In the end, he chose the latter.

No exchange of words happened between all of them. Hermione and Tracy just stood there, watching the whole event unfolded with the expression of sadness plastered on their faces. As for Fleur, however, it was difficult to deduce what was going on inside her mind. She just watched the whole thing in silence. Her brow furrowed as she continued to stare, not at Daphne, but at Harry.

Like Hermione, releasing Daphne from Harry took a lot of persuasion from Fleur and Tracy. She eventually let go of Harry when Tracy reminded her that night curfew is approaching.

"We have to go now, Harry. I suggest that you do the same. Don't want you and Hermione to get caught prowling the corridor during this time of night. You know how Filch is," said Tracy, holding the shoulder of a sobbing Daphne.

Daphne, whose tears streaming down her beautiful face, said nothing. She just stared at Harry.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, well. Take care, you three. Be careful."

Tracy smiled at this. "This place right now is heavily guarded. It's you who needs to be careful, Harry." Tracy then steered Daphne gently away towards the castle ground.

"The dungeon is the opposite way, Tracy," said Harry.

Tracy stopped and looked back at him. Once again, she smiled. "We're no longer Slytherins, Harry."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "So that explains the get-well card. Since when?"

"Since you're not here. Good night, Harry."

Together with Daphne, she stepped into the night, heading towards the Beauxbaton carriage. Fleur somehow stayed behind.

Fleur watched Daphne and Tracy's receding back. When they were far enough, she turned to Harry. Her blue eyes fell onto his new scar. "We 'eard stories. Some of zhem are worse zhan zhe ozhers. Even when you were found, we still feel uneasy. We feared zhe worst. Day and night she prayed for your return," she said.

"Maybe she shouldn't," said Harry.

Fleur raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Why not? You don't want anyone to care for you?"

Harry shook his head. "It's not that. I just-... I don't want to get in the way."

Fleur nodded in understanding. "I see. 'Er relationship makes you feel uneasy."

"Yes," Harry admitted. "I did a lot of thinking when I was still in the hospital. You know after everything that happened between me and her, it's for the best. You're right, Fleur, now that I think of it. She should stand by her decision and stop flip-flopping. I know I wished that we continue to be friends but that is in the past, especially now that she's part of your school. It's time for her to concentrate and to cherish whatever it is she now has. Although I have to admit that I don't expect her to be transferred to your school this early."

"It waz a long story. 'Ermione 'ere can give you zhe full details but suffice to say, it waz for 'er own safety," said Fleur.

"Good."

Fleur's eyes once again fell on his scar. "You are brave," she said.

Harry once again shook his head. "No, I was stupid. Stop believing whatever it is people told you, Fleur."

"Even from my own father?"

"Your father-... wait! Mr. Delacour is your father? I knew there was something about him that I find familiar. He visited me three days before I was released from the hospital and maybe Hogwarts way before that."

Harry's mind went back to the time when a slew of visitors visited Hogwarts before the arrival of the visiting schools. Mr. Delacour was inside the Potion class when Harry first saw him.

Fleur smiled at this. "Yes, he did. I am 'owever amused over zhe fact zhat I share zhe same surname wiz 'im didn't get your mind click."

"In my defense, I am sure there are many Delacours running around at least in this part of the world."

Fleur smiled wider at this. "You're right. 'E wazn't zhe only Delacours. But still, 'e said zhat you were brave. Foolish but brave."

"Is that a compliment or a sarcasm?"

"Papa can be sarcastic at times but you are free to take it in any way you like."

"Is that all he told you? That I'm brave but foolish?"

"Zhere waz a lot more 'e told me," said Fleur. She then glanced at the garden. "But it iz getting late. I 'ave to go back. I zhink zhat would be a story for anozher time."

Harry too glanced over at the garden. He saw the Mahoutokoro bungalow already had its light turned off. It was indeed getting late. "Yes, it is. Well, good night, Fleur."

But Fleur didn't move. She stood there as if she was waiting for something.

"Fleur?"

"Perhaps a certain someone would like to ensure zhat zhe girl gets to 'er carriage safely?" she said.

Harry stared blankly at Fleur. It was only after Hermione nudged his elbow and nodded towards Fleur that he understood what Fleur asked him to do.

"Err... yeah, sure. I'll escort you back to your carriage. I'll see you back at the common room, Hermione," he said.

"Alright. See you then, Harry," Hermione said as she turned around and walked her way up the stairs.

"So, shall we?" he said to Fleur.

It was a moonless night when they both set their foot into the castle lawn. A cold breeze blew in from the west. The night sky was cloudy as well, shrouding the incoming light of the stars. Luckily for them, the path was well illuminated, making it easy for them to put their foot one after another as they headed towards the garden.

"You seem close to 'er," said Fleur as she pulled her cloak tighter around her. She shivered a bit.

Harry who knew to whom Fleur meant replied, "Hermione is a dear friend of mine. We've been close since our first year. She's like a sister I never had."

Fleur smiled at this. "Yes, I can see zhat. Your relationship wiz 'er iz mainly platonic. She wouldn't allow you to walk wiz me if she iz your girlfriend."

"Has that always been a problem to you?" asked Harry.

Fleur chuckled. "For someone looking like me, what do you zhink?"

Harry glanced at her. She was indeed very stunning to look at. Her height, her face, the way she wore her hair, and the way those strands of hair fell over her face completed the vision of perfection. Her skin even glowed a bit. She also smelled very nice that night.

Come to think of it, Daphne had those too except in a smaller package. Her boyfriend was very lucky.

"I guess it's a common occurrence," said Harry, looking back to the front.

They both arrived at the entrance into the garden. The two Aurors acknowledged Harry and let them in. They did however had to shake their head to throw off the effect Fleur had on them.

"It iz. It waz flattering when I first realize zhe effect I 'ave on men but it quickly gets tiring after zhat. I came to 'ate it at one point before I learn to live wiz it," said Fleur.

"You know, Daphne has some of your traits. She has all of your traits in fact but she appears to be able to mask it well. Is there something I should know aside from her being your cousin?" said Harry.

Fleur glanced sharply at Harry. "You should learn to control your curiosity, 'Arry. It nearly got you killed."

"Right. You don't want to tell me. That's fine."

"Sometimes, some zhings are better being left alone."

"And I respect that. I'm not going to force you to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable, Fleur."

"Let just say zhat a line 'as to be drawn somewhere. Besides, I just met you. A trust 'as to be earned even by someone wiz your reputation," said Fleur, once again glancing at him.

"Hmm,,, funnily enough, I never thought about it that way. I mean, I never have to earn anyone's trust and I had yet found any reason for me to try to earn it. So if I want to earn your trust, there must be something that I want, right?" said Harry.

"Maybe."

"And for someone like you, won't you find it a tad suspicious?"

Fleur went silent at this.

"You're right. Trust has to be earned," Harry took the advantage to continue. "But it also must not be forced onto or from someone. That's how a true friendship is built. I don't want anything from you so where does that put us?"

Fleur said nothing.

Seeing Fleur being silent and feeling that an underlying tension was building between them, Harry decided to diffuse the situation a little bit. "I'm sorry if I'm being too forward. I did the same with Daphne. I probably hurt her feelings multiple times without even realizing it."

"Oh, she waz 'urt," said Fleur. "But she waz glad zhat you were 'onest wiz 'er. And so do I."

"Yeah, I probably should have apologized to her."

"You'll 'ave your chance."

Harry was about to reply when he saw someone marching up to them.

"So there you are! Fleur, it's late! Everyone is getting worried! "

It was Cassandra. She stopped right in front of Fleur with her hands placed on her hip, looking livid.

"Nobody needs to be worried, Cassy. Look who's walking beside me," said Fleur.

Cassandra turned to look. Her eyebrows cocked when she saw Harry. "Zhat explains it," she simply said, still looking at Harry.

"See? I am safe. Nobody will dare to hurt me when he is around," said Fleur, smiling at her friend.

Cassandra turned to look at Fleur. Shaking her head, she said, "We both know what you're trying to do, Fleur."

Fleur just shrugged her shoulders.

"So, did he make the cut?" asked Cassandra.

Fleur glanced at Harry. "He's more than meets the eye. That is as far as I could tell. He earns my trust completely."

Cassandra once again cocked her eyebrows. "That fast? Really?"

Fleur just smiled at her. "Sometimes, things just happen the way we never thought possible," she said.

"Huh, lucky him. So what now?"

"No idea. We'll just have to see, I guess."

Cassandra nodded. "Probably for the best," she said. "I foresee a few problems coming your way."

"I know."

All this while, Harry just stood there in silence, not having the slightest idea of what the two girls were talking about. He made a mental note to try to learn French if he gets the chance.

"So yeah, I guess I better get going," he interrupted them.

The two girls turned to look at him.

"Yes, it iz getting late. Zhank you, 'Arry Potter," said Fleur. "Please be safe."

"I will. Good night."

"Good night, 'Arry," said Fleur and Cassandra in unison.

Harry then turned around and made his way back to the castle, blissfully unaware that a pair of bright blue eyes were watching him silently.

It was past curfew when he reentered the castle. But Filch's patrol schedule and his usual route were already embedded within his brain so he was able to circumvent the Hogwarts caretaker and made it safely back to the Gryffindor Tower.

Ron and the rest of his friends were still hanging out in the common room when he entered.

"There you are, Harry," Ron greeted him. "You're late."

Harry went on to grab a chair and sat beside Ron. "Got things to do. Where's Hermione?"

"Gone to sleep," came the reply.

Harry nodded. "So, what are you blokes talking about?"

"The Yule Ball."

Harry sighed.

To be continued...