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The Shadow of Death
Chapter 18: Courting Contempt
'I have grown too complacent.' Narrowed green eyes reflected back at him from the mirror's dusty surface. 'Disgusting.'
Blood fled his flexing, trembling fingers, giving them a ghostly pallor. Harry hissed at his reflection. His arm twitched, itching to destroy the glass portal.
"You are weak." His stomach turned and a look of pure loathing flashed over his features. "You allowed yourself to be caught, years of training in the bin. Pathetic."
He traced the curve of his cheeks and his narrow jawline. Foreign black hair framed his face, tickling his ears. A stranger stared back at him from the mirror's depths.
Harry James Potter.
A growl ripped from Harry's throat. 'Weak.'
Unspeakable, the non-entity he had once been, shrivelled beneath the taint shimmering in those green eyes.
A trembling hand raised to rest against the mirror's cool surface. " When did I become Harry Potter? When did I start leaving everything I knew behind?"
His arm dropped limp to his side. Clenching his fist, the full length mirror shattered. Glistening glass dashed and cracked against stone. Green eyes stared back at him from multiple angles, judgement clouding their eyes.
And they swirled, morphing under his heavy gaze.
"We had identities, families." Theodus Greengrass's brown hate-filled eyes stared at him from shattered glass. "And you took it all from us as easily as you draw breath. You are no better than the Dark Lord."
A bead of sweat tickled the hollow between his shoulder blades. Harry shook his head.
"My daughter lost her mind because of you," Brea Greengrass whispered. "And my eldest serves you like a dog. You took everything from us, and we'll do the same to you in turn."
Harry's hands snaked over the robes covering his chest, strangled breaths fighting to escape his tight lungs. Head spinning, he turned from the crystalline shards.
"Shut up," he muttered. "I can go back, be nobody again. I can be strong again."
Being here around them, around him, had made Harry weak, careless. Fabric groaned beneath his clenching fists, threatening to tear.
And he could feel them, their cold presence permeating the small room like an all-penetrating, all-consuming fog. Eyes, filled with accusation, stared at him from the thick veil.
"Mongrels, you called us." Janet's voice was filled with sadness. "You looked down on us for being what we are, and you killed us. We could've forged our own path without Greyback. You took that from us, the same as them."
"It is war." Harry stumbled, his back slamming into his four-poster bed. "I did the right thing, followed my orders. You had to die."
"But that isn't your choice, is it, boy?" Harry whipped around. Oswin Nott sneered down at him. "You aren't a force for good, no matter your justifications. You, Harry Potter, are a murderer, a thief. You're a weak, vile thing, and your time will come. We'll have our just dues."
Harry slammed his eyes shut, fire leaping from his hands. Glass hissed, bubbling against the stone floor. He inhaled the smoke deep into his lungs, his burning lungs grounding him.
"Shut up!" Ice filled his veins.
"You're weak, Potter." Theodus's voice travelled to him from afar. "You will die in the end, alone and weak. You took our lives but we'll win. It's only a matter of time."
"You are wrong," he hissed. "I will be strong and I will stand victorious. Death will not take me, I will not allow it."
Harry opened his eyes to an empty room filled with swirling smoke. His clammy hands clutched at his heaving chest.
"Who's wrong, Har...ry?" The door opened to reveal Corner. "What the bloody hell happened to our room?!"
"I was practising a spell." Harry flicked his wand, dispersing the smoke and banishing the warped glass shards. "It did not go as I expected."
He narrowed his eyes, daring Corner to contradict him. The boy held up his hands and walked to his bed.
"Right," Corner muttered. "Anyway, don't you have a date with Delacour tonight?"
'No thanks to Dumbledore,' he thought.
"Do not remind me." Harry smoothed out his wrinkled robes with a wave of his wand.
"I don't see why you don't like her." Corner's top half disappeared into his trunk, his voice muffled. "She seems nice enough and she's the hottest bird in the school. You lucked out, mate."
Harry scowled at the other wizard. "Perhaps if you could keep from drooling around her you would change your opinion."
Corner reappeared with a pair of new trainers in hand.
"Not bloody likely, mate." The brunette wizard smirked. "And what are you so surly for, eh? It's a date. Calm down for once and enjoy yourself."
Harry shook his head, walking past him to the door. "I would rather stay here and study than be with her."
Corner eyed the scorch marks littering the floor and shrugged. "Fine then. Keep the stick you've so firmly lodged up your arse."
"What is that supposed to mean, Corner?" Harry stopped at the door and looked over his shoulder.
"Well, you've been a right prick to everybody, haven't you?" Corner glared at him as he tied his trainers. "We've all been friendly with you and you've shoved it back in our faces each time. Don't know why I've bothered with you for so long."
"Then stop." Harry narrowed his eyes on the boy. "I do not need you or the others. I am fine by myself, just as I have always been."
He closed the door behind him and made his way down the stairs.
'Am I making the right decision?' Harry snorted. 'No matter what Dumbledore says, I cannot allow my emotions to interfere with my mission.'
With a ruthless push, Harry quashed the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him, his face falling to neutrality as he entered the common room.
He glanced down at his watch. 'She is late.'
"You've caused quite the stir, Harry." Luna appeared beside him, a grim look on her face. "They've spoken of you nonstop."
"Whatever our classmates say is of no concern to me." Harry watched the students as they spoke in excited whispers about their upcoming trip to Hogsmeade.
Luna giggled. "Not them, Harry. Them."
"What do you mean?" He studied the odd witch, finding no answers as usual. "Who are 'they'?"
She shrugged, a sad smile on her lips. "I don't really know, but they say you're close to falling. Or did they mean failing?"
Harry opened his mouth, but was silenced when Luna grabbed his sleeve in a tight fist.
"What is written may not be true, though,," she whispered. "You are muddled, befuddled. You gird yourself in binding chains, Harry Potter. They weigh on you, but only you can free yourself from their hold."
"And how would I do that?" Harry leaned toward her.
She shook her head. "But no one can ever truly be free, can they?"
"How do you know these things, Luna?" The Elder Wand chilled against his forearm. He ignored its whispers.
"I listen." Her teeth glimmered in the firelight, her smile wide. "Anybody can do it but few ever do."
Straining his ears, he only heard the excited titters of the surrounding students. Luna giggled as a scowl crossed his face.
Harry turned when the common room quieted. Many of the boys drooled, staring after Delacour as she descended the steps. Their female companions glared at the backs of their heads.
Harry scoffed.
"You shouldn't be so dismissive of them," Luna whispered. "Or of her. You'll end up losing people who could help you one day."
"I suppose you heard that too?" Harry sneered at the other students.
"No." Luna giggled. "That's just common sense."
Angry muttering from the room's witches followed the Veela across the room. Delacour stopped and gave him a small smile. Harry forced himself to return the gesture, though it was more of a grimace.
It had been part of their deal: pretend to like one another.
"Are you ready, 'Arry?" Her whispered question carried around the room.
Luna looked between the two of them, a thoughtful frown on her lips. Delacour raised a brow at his silence.
A sharp elbow met his ribs and he huffed. Harry looked down at the small blonde at his side and raised his brow. She widened her eyes, emphasising something that was beyond him.
"For someone so smart, Harry," Luna whispered through giggles, "you are incredibly dense."
"Whatever." Harry walked from the common room, Delacour huffing at his side.
—0v0—
The fire crackling merrily behind him did little to warm Albus's bones. The clicks and tinks of his instruments did little to hold his interest.
He had lost interest in a great deal of things of late.
"Was I too heavy-handed, I wonder?" Albus tracked the two students as they traversed the snow-covered ground. "I did promise him I would not meddle in his personal affairs."
"Whatever you did, Dumbledore," Phineas grunted, "it was not enough. I still say you should kill the boy and be done with it."
Miss Delacour shivered far beneath him. Harry offered her no assistance. Albus let out a sigh.
"Then it is a good thing I do not have to heed your counsel." His eyes narrowed on the portrait. "He can learn."
"On your own head be it, Dumbledore." Phineas swirled the bourbon in his glass. "The boy is unstable. He will break before long."
Albus sniffed and turned away from the portrait. Opening a drawer in his desk, he plucked a habanero pepper from a brown paper bag.
"I loathe myself for manipulating him in such a way," Albus muttered, placing the pepper in Fawke's feeding tray. "But he must learn empathy, love… happiness."
Black, beady eyes narrowed at him and the immortal bird huffed. Albus stroked its feathers.
"Yes, I know your feelings regarding Harry." Albus watched, sorrow filling him, as his familiar gobbled down its meal. "But I believe he can be saved, even if it is from himself. Miss Delacour may be able to assist him, if he allows."
Fawkes cuffed his head with a wing. Albus's brow wrinkled.
"They only need to move past their mutual animosity." He turned back to the window as Harry and Miss Delacour entered a carriage. "If only I could move on."
He looked down at his twitching hands, feeling as though they were covered in filth. He had taken lives with those hands.
"I can feel it on the air, my friend." Albus closed his eyes at Fawkes's sad croon. "Yes, something is brewing. I fear how much blood will be on my hands before the end."
He pulled a picture out of his pocket. It was weathered and faded, taken many years prior. Two young men smiled up at him from the ancient photo, their eyes filled with laughter, pride and joy.
A wrinkled finger traced the blonde wizard's thin face.
"For the greater good." Albus choked on the familiar words.
—0v0—
Silence hung thick in the cold, bumping carriage. Fleur had expected it. She'd planned on it, even, but she wasn't sure how to break it.
Potter's anger rolled off him in waves. Fleur held back a sigh.
"Zhis doesn't need to be unpleasant." Fleur frowned at his lack of reaction. "We'll be married one day. I 'ope we can build trust between one anozzer and eventually grow to be friends."
He scoffed, green eyes aflame when he deigned to look at her.
"I suppose trust and friendship is built on blackmail." He turned back to the window, a sneer twisting his lips. "If that is the case then Longbottom erred in his attempt."
"'Ow else could I reach you?" Her brows knitted together. "I tried, but you are always so…distant."
She couldn't make out his grumblings. Fleur sighed again.
'He will follow the arrangement to the letter,' she realised. 'You cannot force him to feel anything. I made a mistake, but how else could I accomplish my goals?'
Her frown deepened as she looked at him. Lines of tension wound down his face and neck, fists clenching in his lap. His grinding teeth reverberated over the clacking of the ancient, wood carriage.
Fleur thought back to their previous conversations. She couldn't help but wonder why he hated Veela. He'd mentioned they'd done something to his people, but she couldn't recall any such event in recent history.
It wasn't the normal bias she'd grown accustomed to over the years. Though he was gruff and distant with everyone, he'd always been somewhat respectful to those Magical Britain largely considered to be of "lesser blood".
No, it was only her that he'd treated any differently. It was baffling, maddening. Fleur had even written to her grandmother to ascertain a reason. The older Veela hadn't been able to offer much.
'But whatever it is, is personal to him,' she thought. 'I have to break past it to ensure-'
The carriage bumping to a halt shook her from her thoughts. Potter stood and exited. He offered her no assistance. Instead, he stared at the empty air in front of the carriage.
"What are you looking at?" Fleur huffed as she descended from the carriage to stand at his side.
"Thestrals," he grunted.
Fleur flicked her hair over her shoulder. "I doubt even 'Ogwarts would use somezhing so 'orrid to pull zhe carriages."
His eyes flicked over to students who were milling about at the edge of the village. A small, forced smile twitched to life on his face. Fleur grabbed his hand and he stiffened.
"Why do you stiffen whenever you are touched?"
Magic, heady and cold, wild yet controlled, dominated her senses.
"What is standard procedure for a… date?" Potter's shoulders relaxed but his hand remained stiff and cold.
Fleur watched other couples amble between various shops. They smiled at one another and laughed. Longing tugged at her heart strings.
She looked over at Potter. He watched the proceedings with a flat look on his face. The forced smile was still there, though it never reached his dull eyes.
"As zhe wizard," she mumbled, "you should've already 'ad zhe date planned. But I've never been on one so I don't really know."
He pulled her forward by their linked hands. Fleur stumbled and glared at him after she'd gained her feet. Potter led them through the town at a quick, clipped pace.
"Where are we going?" Her low heels clacked against the cobblestone path, passing by the piles of snow lumped high on either side of the path.
Potter shrugged. "I've never been here. I suppose we can walk until we find something that interests you."
"What about you?" Fleur pulled at his hand, forcing them to stop. "You should enjoy zhis too."
A group of third years passed by them, pointing. Potter's false smile brightened. His eyes remained dull.
"I will not enjoy this," he muttered. "Supposedly, it is my job to make sure you enjoy yourself, though I have no idea how to do that."
Fleur's cheeks reddened, sliding her hand from his. "Why do you care? Zhis isn't like you."
"It is part of our arrangement." Potter looked at her as if she were particularly dim-witted. "I must pretend to enjoy being with you. Despite my dislike for you, I intend to keep my word, and I cannot do so if I do not know what I am supposed to do."
"You should be polite and considerate." Fleur pointed at a wizard opening a door for his date. "But you should only do it because you wish to."
Green eyes tracked the couples around them before they eventually landed upon a particularly amorous couple hidden between two shops. Her nose scrunched in distaste and she shook her head.
"You are being rather vague." His dull, green eyes turned to her. "I suppose I will have to watch and learn from those around us."
He held out his hand. With a sigh, Fleur placed her own in it and they were off again. Potter's fingers twitched occasionally, as if he believed her hand carried some sort of disease.
She wanted to bring up her previous point again but decided against it. 'It will only come back to the agreement,' she thought viciously.
And so they walked around the small village with Fleur pointing out the places of interest.
"Why do you allow your grades to be so 'orrendous?" she whispered as they entered Scrivenshafts. "I know you're smarter zhan you appear."
He looked around the mostly empty store.
"To protect my cover." Potter's eyes were strained. She made to ask more but stopped when he shook his head. "You may know a bit about me, but there is much I cannot tell you."
"Can't or won't?" Fleur placed her hand on her hip.
Potter grabbed a small stack of parchment and led her to the counter.
"Does it matter?" He dropped a handful of sickles on the counter.
The wizard behind the counter thanked him and placed the purchase in a bag. Fleur looked around the shop and inhaled deeply.
"No." She shook her head. "I suppose it doesn't."
Fleur shivered as they stepped into the chilly November air and looked up at Potter. His eyes turned from her to an older couple. He fixated on them, but Fleur couldn't see what had caught his interest.
"I see," he mumbled.
Magic flowed from his hand into her, warmth suffusing her body. But there was a cold undercurrent to the magic itself.
"Merci." She gave him a small smile.
Potter grunted and they continued their trek down the busy streets. They weaved in and out of the crowd, Potter's eyes constantly scanning their surroundings.
"Why are you always on edge?" Fleur pulled him aside and opened the door to Honeydukes.
Noise assaulted her ears. She smiled. Despite her general dislike of crowded spaces, she'd always found Honeydukes to be charming. Her love of sweets also helped.
"My tutors." Potter hung behind her, content to allow her to pluck items from the shelves. "They taught me to fight, to survive."
She frowned at the vague statement. It was the most information he'd given her since they'd met, but it didn't really answer her question.
"'Oo were your tutors?" Fleur followed him to an empty corner of the shop. "I don't believe zhe story zhat you were raised by muggles."
"You are correct." Potter hesitated. "But I cannot tell you who my tutors were. Suffice to say, they did their job well."
Fleur's lip quirked up. "You are being very open with moi."
"You would pester me endlessly if I did not answer." He took the candy in her arms and led them to the counter to wait in line. "Do not mistake my openness, I only tell you to avoid further annoyance."
She frowned. She'd known that, of course, but it was a start.
"Either way," she whispered. "Zhank you. I know you didn't want zhis, but it is important for zhe both of us."
"So you keep saying."
The couple in front of them turned around.
"I thought I heard you earlier." Neville's smile faltered and his eyes became slightly glassy. He shook his head. "How's the date going?"
"Well enough, I suppose." Potter looked at Fleur. She nodded. "Where is Luna?"
"She said something about hunting Snorkacks in the forest." Neville shrugged and Granger rolled her eyes. "You should join the two of us for lunch. We're going to the Three Broomsticks."
Granger's eyes narrowed. "They should?" She blurted out. "Erm, I mean, they shouldn't, Neville. They're on a date."
"'Arry, we should go buy dress robes for zhe Yule Ball and my papa's ball." Fleur eyed Granger with disdain. The younger witch scowled back at her.
As much as she liked Neville for always being polite to her, she'd never understood why he associated with Granger. The girl was far too serious and came off as slightly snobbish.
"You can do that after lunch." Neville clapped Potter on the back and gave her a winning smile. "I promise we'll leave you two alone afterwards. I needed to talk to Harry anyway."
Potter looked at her, a wicked smile crossing his lips at the minute shake of her head. "Fine. We did not have any plans set in stone anyway."
Neville beamed, clapping them both on the shoulder. "Excellent. Let's pay up and head over there."
Fleur scowled at the ground as they made their way to the famous pub. A few minutes later they squeezed into a small table in the crowded establishment, merry buzzing filling her ears.
"What can I get for you, dears?" Madam Rosmerta strode over to their table, happy yet frazzled at the amount of business she was garnering.
"Four butterbeers." Neville pulled out a few coins and handed them over.
The four of them had their orders placed a few moments later. Madam Rosmerta made her way to another table. The third year wizards gawped at her, openly staring at her low-cut shirt and stuttered their orders.
"So what happened with you two?" Granger waved her hand at Fleur and Potter. "It looks like you are much closer than you were a few days ago."
Fleur bit her lower lip and looked at Potter. His expression hadn't changed.
"We came to an understanding," she said in a measured cadence. Granger stared at her, obviously fishing for more. "But our relationship is our business."
Granger opened her mouth but was stopped by Neville's hand on her shoulder. Fleur relaxed in her seat, the noise of the pub washing over her.
"It's not polite to ask someone about their relationship, Hermione." Neville shot Fleur a small, apologetic smile. "That's family business. Speaking of, Harry, have you thought any more about my offer?"
"What offer?" Fleur arched a brow and turned to him.
"Neville offered to be his friend over a month ago." Hermione crossed her arms and shot Potter a small scowl.
"I have given it some thought," Potter responded. Neville leaned forward in his seat. "Though I am still confused as to why you offered."
"So am I." Granger took a long sip of the butterbeer Madam Rosmerta placed in front of her.
"I zhink you should accept." Fleur squeezed his forearm, ignoring his stiffening body. "Zhe Longbottoms 'old much sway in zhe Wizengamot. Beyond zhat, Neville is a good, trustworthy person from what I've seen."
"Everyone believes I should accept." Potter turned his gaze out the window, a faraway look entering his eyes.
Fleur felt the intensity of his thoughts. She wondered if he'd discussed this with the Headmaster. She knew the two were closer than they appeared in front of the other students.
She'd discussed Potter with the Headmaster briefly and she'd only left their conversation with more questions.
"Gran wanted me to reach out to you again." Neville squared his shoulders under Potter's stare. "Not that I wouldn't have anyway. My offer is genuine, but I'd like to see our alliance reestablished. You're doing something. What it is, I don't know, but I want to help."
Potter's eyes never left the blonde wizard. He was searching for something, but what it was Fleur couldn't say.
"Fine," Potter muttered. He ran a hand over his face. "I accept. This could be beneficial for the both of us."
"Not exactly what I'd hoped for, but I'll take it." Neville beamed at the two of them.
Granger looked less than enthused.
"I've been doing some reading," she said, her brown eyes fixated on Fleur. "And Sebastien Delacour is very powerful politically. But there is some animosity toward Veela in France and especially in Britain. How will that affect politics in the Wizengamot?"
How it would affect the politics of Houses Potter and Longbottom was the unasked question. Fleur's eyes narrowed. The girl was shrewd even if she did lack tact.
But what reason did she have to try to destabilise her relationship with either house?
Neville looked at her with interest while Potter shrugged his shoulders.
"Zhat is true." Fleur nodded. "I suppose you read about Veela involvement in World War II?"
"More like the lack thereof," Granger replied. "But the books were rather vague. Knowing what I do, it was risky for your father to marry a Veela."
Fleur bristled, her eyes cold.
"I had wondered about that." All eyes turned to Neville. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Gran brought it up. I don't really care either way, but it's good to know how it will affect our houses politically. What happened?"
"Zhe ICW approached zhe Veela conclaves wiz 'opes of an alliance." Fleur sighed. The Veela rarely spoke of this for good reason. "Zhe Allies were losing zhe war wiz Grindelwald. Zhe Veela conclaves decided to remain neutral in fear of what Grindelwald would do to us if 'e won."
Tapping his chin, Neville replied, "I can't imagine they took that well. Wizards have long memories so it's natural there'd be lingering animosity."
"More zhan you know." Fleur recalled her grandmother teaching her about Veela history. "We were attacked by an unknown organisation. I don't know much about it. It's only fully known by zhose of 'igh rank in zhe conclaves. We repelled zhe attackers and sank furzer into reclusivity. France and Britain are still wary of us since we are still technically an independent nation group."
"And your father?" Granger leaned forward, her need for knowledge outweighing her disdain for Fleur. "What part does he have in all of this?"
Fleur shrugged. "'E 'as never told me. I assume 'e wished to strengthen zhe relationship between the French Veela Conclave and our Ministry. By tying us to 'Ouse Potter we could also see closer ties between France and Britain. Zhat's my guess, anyway."
"That makes sense." Neville smiled sadly. "But I wouldn't expect any results for some time. It's a risky gamble, even if House Potter is prominent in our society."
"I don't really care about my papa's political aspirations." Fleur took a sip of her butterbeer and wrinkled her nose. She'd have preferred wine. "I 'ave my own goals separate from 'is."
Granger's brow wrinkled. "But what does that mean for the three of you?"
"Nozzing major if I 'ave anyzhing to say about it." Fleur slid the butterbeer over to Potter. "I do not wish to continue my papa's political manoeuvrings. I want a normal life."
Neville nodded at her and took a deep sip of his drink. "That's admirable in its own right. Besides, we're still in school. We have plenty of time to decide what to do with our lives. Let politics lie until the future."
"I would rather take a knife to the gut than listen to old people argue over useless things." Potter nodded his thanks to Madam Rosmerta as she returned with their food.
"But that'll be your life in a few years." Neville chuckled. "Unless you appoint a regent."
"Then that is what I will do." Potter took a bite of his fish.
They ate over the next few minutes, an air of contentment settling over the group they moved on to lighter topics. Fleur's assessment of Neville proved to be true. He was a happy and likeable, if not shy, person.
Even Granger loosened up a bit, though she was still too stiff for Fleur's taste. Potter said very little during the meal.
"Hermione, I'll meet you outside," said Neville. "I need to talk to Harry and Fleur alone for a moment."
The young witch gave a hesitant nod and left the table. She glanced back at them as she left the establishment.
Potter waved his wand and wards buzzed to life around their table.
"First," the nervous wizard mumbled, "I'd like to thank you for accepting my offer. It means a lot to me and I hope we can have a strong friendship. I just want you to know that I'll stand by the both of you no matter what."
Green eyes widened imperceptibly and Fleur nodded.
"Merci, Neville." Fleur smiled and squeezed his shaking hand. "It means a lot. We don't 'ave many friends 'oo we can trust."
Neville took a deep breath and nodded.
"Which leads me into my second point." Neville pulled his hand back and gave Harry a serious look. "I know something is going on with you. Don't bother denying it. There's been too much happening since you got back for it to be a coincidence. I want in."
"Long… Neville." Potter shook his head. "Worry about school. What I am involved in does not concern you. That is my business."
Neville thumped the table with a fist.
"But that's not what friends do, is it?" Neville pulled out his wand and stared at it with loving eyes. "Look, I'm not a powerful wizard but I can still help. Did you know… our fathers were friends and worked together in the aurors?"
Potter shook his head.
"They did." Neville held up his wand for them to see. "He used this wand to watch your dad's back. I want to do the same. Let me help, Harry. I'm tired of sitting by, being useless. War's coming and I mean to be prepared. So please, help me to help you."
"That is your father's wand?" Harry indicated the wand in Neville's hand. He nodded. "The wand is not suited for you. If you wish to stand at my back, or my side, you will need a new one."
A forlorn look entered Neville's eyes as he looked down at his most prized possession.
"You accepted him easily, 'Arry," Fleur whispered into his ear.
"He is persistent." Potter shrugged. "He will not be convinced otherwise, much like someone else I know."
"But...but," Neville stuttered. "This i-is my f-father's…"
Potter took the wand in his hand and studied it. The wood was weathered and chipped in some places, but Fleur could tell it had been treated with love and care by its owner.
"The connection is there but it is faint." Potter handed the wand back to Neville. "I will not have you by my side with a poorly matched wand. We will go to Ollivander's over the holidays to get you a new one and then we can revisit your request."
Neville nodded and gave him a shaky smile.
Fleur frowned. She heard the lie in his voice, saw it in his eyes. Potter was protecting Neville in his own way, though that would do nothing to protect the young wizard from himself.
It would be a rude awakening, but she couldn't find it in herself to disagree.
Whatever he was fighting against, it was dangerous. Neville would die if he faced such opponents.
It was a cruel sort of kindness, not one she'd expected from him.
'Let him live in his fantasy,' Fleur thought. 'It's far kinder than anything he's done for me.'
"Thanks, Harry." Neville pocketed his wand and gave them a small wave. "I'll let you get back to your date. I'll see you at dinner."
Potter nodded and they watched the wizard walk out into the cold.
"Zhat was very kind of you," she muttered. "Why did you do it?"
"He is not as annoying as the others." Potter waved his wand and the wards fell.
They stood from the table. A small smile crossed her face.
Coming from him, the comment had been as much a compliment as he could give. He wouldn't have done so a month ago. It gave her hope.
"We should go buy my dress robes." A scowl crossed his face.
"We can do zhat later." She grabbed his hand as they crossed the pub's threshold. He plastered his forced smile on his face. "Come wiz me. I wish to show you somezhing."
The cold bit at her skin as they stepped into the snow-covered village. It didn't bother her as much as it had before.
They walked to the outskirts of the town and stopped at a fence surrounding a small, dilapidated shack.
"You wanted to show me the Shrieking Shack?" Potter looked at the structure. "It is not haunted like the locals say. We should leave."
"I wanted to talk." Fleur took a seat on a fallen tree and pulled him down with her. He sat with a huff. "You opened up to Neville, at least a little. I 'ope you can do zhe same wiz me."
He gave her a hard look. Fleur sighed and tightened her coat around her.
"You call me Princess." She traced lines in the snow with the toe of her trainer. "Maman calls me zhat, but it is different. You insult me wiz it."
"I cannot help that you grew up sheltered and spoiled, Delacour." Potter held out his hand and caught a few flakes of snow. He closed his fist. "Not all of us have that luxury. Yet, without knowing me, you demand everything from me just like a princess would."
"I 'ave demanded very little." Her lips turned to a frown.
Potter shook his head.
"You do not understand." He sighed and fell silent.
They sat in the silence, but it was not filled with the same tension as before. There was something different there, something unpleasant, but it wasn't something she could identify.
Fleur's heart pounded in her chest. Her resolve steeled, she looked over at him.
"Zhen 'elp me understand." She allowed her emotions to be on full display.
His green eyes bored into her own. She saw no understanding in his gaze and she hadn't expected to. It was all new to the both of them, but she knew well enough that if she didn't open up to him at all then he never would.
"I have seen many like you in my ventures." Potter turned from her and stared off into the distance. "Children screaming at their parents, expecting everything to be given to them. They were coddled, given everything by their rich parents. I know the type."
"Non, you do not." Fleur cupped her hands and breathed into them. "I did grow up in a rich family, but I was given little. I 'ave been moulded my entire life to be zhe perfect heiress, zhe perfect lady of a 'ouse. Zhe zhings I've asked of you? Zhey all 'ave only one common goal."
"A marriage." He looked down at his left hand. "A real one. It is not something I can give."
Fleur swung around, straddled the log, and leaned back. A sad, pensive look adorned her cold-flushed face.
"Per'aps not," she mused. "But wiz time you may. Zhere is no 'arm in trying. Either way, I wouldn't wish my life on my… our future children. I 'ave been so alone for so long, wiz only zhe barest 'ints of love. It is a miserable existence."
"Yet you boldly tell me what you want." Potter conjured fire in his hand. His eyes glimmered with orange flame. "And you do not know how to get there."
He snuffed the flame.
"And like fire," he murmured, "you will consume everything to see it done until you can no longer keep going."
She nodded.
"But what about you, 'Arry Potter?" Fleur conjured her own blue fire. She rolled it over her fingers. "What do you want?"
"Nothing," he said. She gave him a blank stare. He sighed. "I… do not know. I have never had much reason to think about it."
Fleur snuffed the small flame and leaned forward.
"Zhen tell moi about your past." A small, hopeful smile twitched onto her lips. "I may not understand, but per'aps I can 'elp you find what you want. We are supposed to be a team, non?"
He ran a hand through his hair and huffed. His eyes had once again looked off into the distance, but this time there was a hardness in them.
"There is not much I can tell you," he sighed.
"Can't or won't?" Fleur smirked at him. He grumbled.
"Does it make a difference?"
She leaned back. "It makes all zhe difference."
"Can't," he replied. "Much of my life has been lived in secret... Does this really matter?"
"Oui. It does to me."
Potter growled. His face screwed into a severe expression. His eyes darted around the area and his movements became jittery.
But she didn't pressure him..
'I can't change who he is,' she thought. 'But maybe I can help. Come, Harry. I opened up to you, even if only a little. So please do the same for me.'
His shoulders slumped, a look of utter defeat crossing his features.
"I suppose I should." He looked up at her. His expression left her without words. It was gone in an instant. "You will not leave me alone until I do."
Fleur's lips quirked. "Non, I would not."
"I lived a hard life, a secret one." He looked down at his chest. "You have seen my scars. They are proof enough of that."
"Oui," she breathed. Fleur held out her hand to trace a scar hidden beneath clothes. She pulled back at the last second. "You look as if you've lived life one battle to zhe next."
Potter scooted away from her, his eyes glued on her hand.
"I hate this," he growled. "I do not want to open up. I just want…"
"For zhings to go back to 'ow zhey were?"
He nodded.
"You're not ready." Fleur sighed as she watched his walls come back into place. "Zhat is okay. We 'ave time. You can tell me when you are ready."
"You misunderstand." He levelled a hard look at her. "I was nobody, nothing. I want to go back to that. I do not want to be somebody. It was easy."
"But only 'alf a life." Fleur scooted closer to him, taking his hand in hers. He stiffened. "I cannot claim to understand, but I am 'appy."
He shot her a confused look.
"You told me about yourself, even if only a little." Fleur smiled. "It is progress, even if you felt forced to do so."
"I still hate you for blackmailing me." His words stung.
Fleur nodded, her smile faltering.
"I deserve zhat," she said. "And more. If you could do one more zhing for moi today?"
Potter… No… Harry rolled his eyes and waved for her to continue.
"Why do you hate moi?" she pulled her hand from his grip. "Or Veela? Is it because you believe we are nothing but creatures?"
He scoffed. "It is nothing so simple. Where I… lived, we were taught to hate Veela on principle. But we did respect your power."
"Did?" Sparks crackled at her fingertips. "Explain."
"Our people fought at one point." Harry's face screwed in concentration. "I cannot tell you when, but it was before I was alive. We lost. Most of us were male and were unprepared for your allure. Our leader has a long memory and does not take failure lightly. So we were taught to hate all of you because you represent what we fear most."
"Failure?" She chuckled at his responding nod. "Zhat is silly, but it is welcome news."
Harry cocked a brow. "How so?"
"It is difficult to overcome actual prejudice." Fleur waved her hand in the direction of the castle. "Malfoy and Umbridge are proof of zhis. But I can show you zhat not all Veela are somezhing to fear or hate. Just like witches, many of us are bad people. But not all."
"I still dislike you." Harry's eyes narrowed to slits. "I do not trust you."
"And zhat is okay," she repeated. "You were taught poorly. I can teach you differently."
He shook his head. "And you forced me into this."
"Yes, I did." Fleur lifted her chin. "And I was wrong to force you. but I won't apologise for it just as you won't apologise for your 'atred of Veela."
Harry grunted and turned away from her. She settled into the silence, content that they'd at least made some form of progress.
Fleur knew that she'd also set them both back a bit with her actions, but she was sure she'd be able to work past it someday. Now, all she had to worry about was keeping the pace they'd set.
The snowfall increased around them. Snow drifted down and fell upon her, tickling her nose. Though she was cold, she enjoyed the beautiful sight.
It was the most at peace she'd felt in months.
"I thought I smelled something foul." Fleur scowled and turned her head. Malfoy and his group were sauntering up to them. "I should have known I'd find you here with your pet creature, Scarhead."
"Leave Malfoy," Harry grumbled. "I am in no mood to deal with you right now."
The three Slytherins laughed. Harry reached for his wand. Fleur stopped him with a touch to his arm.
"'E isn't worth it, 'Arry." She feared he'd kill him in his current state. His body was tense, ready to act at a moment's notice.
"You'd best listen to the half-breed, Potter." Malfoy sneered down at them. "She's smarter than you. If you reach for your wand then you'll pay with blood."
They stood to their feet.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry's eyes thinned to slits.
A plume of snow drifted between them. The wind bit into their clothes.
"I just wanted to let you know," the blonde wizard whispered with relish, "that you'll soon get what's coming to you mudbloods. Anyway, I really should get back to the castle."
They watched in silence as he marched away, his head held high. Malfoy's laughter echoed back to them.
"What do you zhink 'e meant?" Fleur looked over at Harry.
He'd gone completely rigid.
"'Arry?"
She looked back at Malfoy. They'd disappeared behind the hill.
The snow stopped. The air fell completely still.
A scream pierced the air.
Her heart plummeted into her stomach.
Icy, unnatural dread filled her veins.
Harry took off toward the village.
"'Arry!"
And she ran.