Fate's Curses and Gifts
First off I'm going to apologise for the appalling long time between chapters, however my life has been rather a struggle over the past month. Anyway I'm feeling better now and could face writing chapter 3. Another note is that I'm no way a competent writer and this is a challenge to do. Hopefully I'll improve as I progress, but excuse any dips in quality.
Enough of my depressing attitude.
Lastly at the time of posting this Fate's Curses and Gifts has reached over 500 views. May not sound like much, but for me that is quite an achievement judging I've only posted 2 chapters!
Enjoy!
Chapter 3 - Who and What We Are
Matthew. G POV1
To say that the past day had been uneventful would be an astronomical lie. To say my life had been turned up on end before being flattened by a repeating series of events would be more accurate.
I laughed. Not one of happiness or joy, but an empty mirthless one; full of the irony and disaster that had descended upon my life. Granted I'm lucky to be as sane as I am despite the past occurrences; the recruitment, the trials, before transpiring into the deaths of my parents who had long longed for my freedom.
But that was in the dim and distant past and now I must face a supposed magical bond with a certain Fleur Delacour. Many would die for such an opportunity and many probably have, but not me. To care is a hazard. It makes one vulnerable and roots out weakness in which your foes may exploit at their leisure.
And at that startling revelation I found myself upon the astronomy tower watching over the daily events as they took place. Whether it was an occasional rustling of the forbidden forest canopy, or whether it was the giant squid surfacing on the lake, but all went noticed. Each excruciating detail would forever remain engrained upon my wounded mind as this fateful day progressed.
Who was Fleur Delacour? Well clearly a Veela, but what of the personality. Was she a seducer who would ensnare men by abusing her abilities or did she relish in the attention men provided her with. None of them could fit her. A deep sense of hurt and sorrow swam within her rich blue irises. It was oh so familiar. That confident façade I myself wear. The immediate defensiveness was of little surprise, but it was certainly a shock to witness a persons posture vary so dramatically.
"Oh, what am I to do?" I spoke to no one in particular.
"Try getting your head out of you're ass and try facing the problem head on."
I spun around and stood stunned at the last person I expected to see; Professor Snape.
"I wasn't aware you were offering psychological advice?"
"Officially I'm not, but despite you're attempts to hide your past self I can still have a brief understanding of it," he spoke unwaveringly despite my rather obvious jab.
"Subtlety had never been you're forte and through personal experiences I am fully aware that dwelling is never beneficial."
I still remained transfixed upon my unwilling legs, but slowly nodded in acknowledgment before speaking, "I doubt this is the only reason you have seeked out my presence, sir."
"Very well inferred and also correct. The headmaster has instructed me to inform you that the Delacours have extended an invitation to dinner in the Beaubatons carriage."
"Pardon sir?"
Fleur. D POV1
I waited. I waited deep in contemplation of what Dumbledore had revealed. Just reminiscing about the champion selection I would never have perceived the truth of his identity. An assassin! Granted he was intimidating when his temper did break through like in the trophy room, but again I would never have perceived such a traumatic past. Despite barely knowing him it hurt to know and especially to experience what he had endured.
The journey back to the carriage was one of unbreakable silence. Even now the very scent lingered upon the air penetrating every surface and object. We had seldom spoken even once we had returned apart from mother explaining her intentions to invite Matthew to dinner. I wanted to object; not willing to see a now pained and wounded face from the visions, but I knew nothing would waver her decision.
So in solitude I slept a fitful sleep in which only nightmares could torment my distressed soul. The time passed all to slowly, but eventually I found myself strung sitting with my mother and father waiting for the ornate clock to chime the hour of 6pm. Each second excruciatingly ticked by.
A gentle knock on the door arose my thoughts as I hastily composed myself.
"Come in," my mother called out obviously curious about Matthew due to never seeing him in the flesh.
The door swung open on its hinges revealing a very different sight than I had expected. Rather than just mere casual clothes one would have expected from such a person; he wore a plain, but smart white shirt which was buttoned up apart from the very topmost. What was noticeable was the clear muscle outlines that protruded from beneath the fabric. Wait, when did I become the one to stare?
He wore tight black trousers that fit almost to perfectly and combined with the shirt, they presented a rather dashing look. Again I mentally clouted myself for briefly staring. With a quick glance round I caught my mother's eye in which she was giving me a look I was unfamiliar with.
However the most prominent feature was the slight smirk he projected my way and how the surrounding air hung with confidence and self assurance. One would never have guessed at what lay behind.
"I suppose I should begin by thanking you all for my invitation," Matthew began.
"Not at all," spoke mother, "It was the least we could do due to the current situation and please take a seat."
As I watched him graciously sit down I became aware that my father was studying him like an insect in a jar. I began to feel uncomfortable with all the peculiar attention Matthew was receiving from my illusive parents. Mother was practically beaming at him, while father had developed an apparent loathing for his very existence as if he were a mere strain upon the carpet.
"You already know Fleur, I'm Apolline and this is my husband Sebastian," she said and gestured towards father who desperately attempted to compose himself.
"Madam, Sir it's a pleasure to meet you."
As the clock lay upon the five past mark a cluster of house elves apparated into the already cramped room carrying a while assortment of delicious food.
"I hope you ok with the French cuisine as I'm afraid that's all the house elves are familiar with," I spoke trying to ignore the blatant awkwardness that had enveloped the room.
"Oh, worry not," he relied jovially, "first hand experience speaks for itself."
"So you've been to France?" mother asked.
"On occasion."
Silence followed as each person began to dive into their meal, but no resolution to the issue at hand would present itself. With a scraping of cutlery I peered beyond my previously finished main course and watched as Matthew slowly lifted his serviette and dabbed it across his unmoving lips before clearing his throat.
"Pardon me if I'm being presumptuous, but I believe the reason behind the invitation would have been Dumbledore divulging some rather sensitive information concerning myself."
We all merely nodded in result.
"And I just want to reassure you all that I would never take advantage of the situation."
Father visibly relaxed at his statement and I subconsciously sighed in relief at the revelation. I didn't believe he would abuse this at all, but to just have the confirmation of my thoughts, lifted the metaphorical weights off my shoulders.
"And all I ask is that we enjoy this evening and not dwell on the past or future."
Each and every one of us agreed in some manner to his proposal. It beggared belief that this was the same person that Dumbledore had spoken of. Once the tension had lifted itself we begun to discuss more casual topics.
"So tell me Mr. Glenn, anything about yourself that may interest is?"
"Please forget the formalities. One such as me already feels old enough. Just Matthew is perfectly fine."
"Of course," mother replied.
"So where to begin?" he paused apparently deep in thought, "My name is Matthew Glenn, I'm seventeen years old, I'm currently involved in a magical bond with Fleur and I like playing quidditch as a chaser."
Matthew.G POV2
I finished the minor sum up of myself and inwardly relaxed at how Appoline was not attempting to pursue the topic of conversation.
And with that the rest of the evening transpired. I discovered Fleur's unnatural sweet food fetish and her love of muggle fiction novels. We just talked for a few hours and I became very fond of the Delacours. Granted they had this admirable caring nature to each other, but also their welcoming attitude to quite frankly a complete and utter stranger.
My mind was still thoroughly plagued by the very concept of the bond and once again I felt lost. Not in the lonely sense, but more so in the lack of solutions. My typical plan and act notion had been thrown under the bus leaving nothing, but tattered ruins in it's wake.
As I prepared to take my absence I glanced upon the wall clock and to my shock discovered the time was half past midnight.
"Well thank you yet again for my invitation and I hope you all have a good night."
"Not at all Matthew. Not at all," Apolline replied.
"It was a pleasure to meet all of you and learn what I could in such a short period of time."
I respectably bowed before approaching the ornate carriage door, but swiveled round at the minute sound of silently-trodden footsteps and the image of Fleur Delacour met my gaze.
"I would like to apologize for my presumptuous behavior during the champion selection," she all but whispered.
"No apology is required as I could tell you never meant it in anger."
She gratefully nodded, however what happened next astonished me as she closed the gap and our lips met.
Fleur.D POV2
Bliss. Pure bliss. My utterly bewildered mind pushed my body to continue such intimate bliss, but it was not to last. His body instantaneously stiffened upon impact before he tore himself from my body; crushing my now pained soul. His eyes held emotions and feelings that would be scorched upon my own for an eternity. Hurt could not even hope to comprehend the turmoil that had engulfed my mind and before any words could leave my mouth he had vanished from view leaving an empty and hopeless open door in his wake.
Author's Note: Please review as any advice and criticism will be taken into account. Also I'm still getting to feel with my writing style throughout this.