Disclaimer: I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.
Chapter 41: Let's Fall in Love for the Night
'Points?'
'M-Mr Potter, what IS that?' It was McGonagall, pointing at the weapon in shock.
'Why it's a trident professor, I'd imagine someone of your education would know that?' Harry smirked. Sadly, she was not impressed.
'Obviously, but who's is it?'
'Mine, now, and that's all that matters. Now, give me my points and tell me my position, please.'
'Mr Potter, if you may, the ministry shall confiscate such an artefact, there is little doubt it is dark-' Percy was cut off in his rant that seemed almost practiced.
'No, you will not. It is mine, and if you want it, you will have to tear it from my cold, dead hands.' His death glare was enough to ward off the stooge, though judging by the muttering he'd be getting a letter soon enough. Not that it mattered. They were no Each-uisge.
'Y-yes, well, I suppose we ought to get on with the tournament. The judges have discussed your point total, after which each champion's position will be announced.' The Gryffindor head seemed slightly shaken as she pointed towards the panel that held the corresponding people.
Dumbledore raised a 10, Bagman as well, Percy had returned and held a 7, Karkaroff lifted the same, while Maxime showed a 9. He smiled in satisfaction, while not perfect, it was far more than he expected, considering he had arrived only 5 minutes from being late.
'And now, positions! Mr Potter holds the top spot with 88 points, Mr Krum is second with 84, and Ms Delacour last holding 72! This shall decide the starting order for the Third Task on the 24th of June! Official details will be released a week before! Thank you!' Bagman finished his speech with a bow, before leaving the panel with the rest of the judges.
Harry began to walk off, wings put away until Madam Pomfrey called him into the medical tent and with a sigh, he entered, finding the other champions there. Inside, Krum was holding a bandage to his shoulder, while Fleur stared at him strangely, bites covering nearly every single visible part of her limbs.
Laying down, he winced as his side stung, the adrenaline wearing off and the cut showed itself to be much deeper than he thought. The kelp refused to unstick itself from his leg, the tooth from the beast held at his waist by a conjured rope, with scratches presenting themselves here and there.
'Honestly Mr Potter, I am amazed you're still walking. Several ribs broken, far more blood loss than most could stand and infections on nearly every inch of the wound. What in the Lady's name did this?' The doctor bustled about, casting several spells and patching up the smaller bits.
'An Each-Uisge.' Pomfrey was so shocked she nearly stopped her healing, while each champion stared at him in confusion.
'There is no such creature in the Black Lake, da? Vat vas it truly?' Viktor gave him a look of disbelief, while Harry chuckled.
'I am afraid so, nearly got me too.' Fleur stared at him in awe.
'You killed it?' He shook his head.
'I'm already far weaker in water, something as legendary as that is a maybe even on bare land, I was lucky to escape like I did. As you can see, it was not without injury.' He motioned towards his wound, hissing as the movement stirred it up while the Madam slapped his shoulder so he would still, and began working on it.
'Still… few could valk avay from vat alive. Good job.' Krum nodded in his direction, to which he responded with the same. Fleur just watched him in silence. While he understood a bit, after all even Dumbledore would have trouble with such a beast, and he was only fourteen, it was a bit much. Choosing to ignore her, he laid down, allowing Pomfrey to finish her treatment and falling asleep, trident firmly clasped in his hand.
—-
When Harry finally exited the tent, it was pandemonium. Apparently, the other champions had already left, and when he awoke he found the kelp removed with his leg in a cast, a note informing him the Madam had to remove the skin around it, and to give it time to heal. His side had also been bandaged, though it was in far worse shape, so he held his trident as a walking stick.
According to the paper he had found by his bedside with the note, the other champions had gone and blabbed about what happened under the water's surface, with the very next page being about the weapon he'd retrieved and ministry plans to confiscate it. At that, he'd merely snorted; few had the ability to beat him one on one even in a vulnerable state like this. After all, his right arm still worked.
'Mr Potter! Comments on what happened under the lake!?'
'Mr Potter! What was it like fighting an Each-uisge!?'
'What is your relationship with the Beauxbatons champion!?' They surrounded him like a hungry pack of wolves, and his scowl only grew with each question.
'No, no, and I don't have one.' He began to hobble off, ignoring proceeding inquiries. Sadly, it was at that point his former friends appeared, and he began to curse Fate and his luck, when they began heading straight for him. At this point, he'd never make it to a proper bed, as his back was already sore from the cot in the tent.
'Harry! Wait up!' He desperately wished to be back in the chamber, and to his surprise, with a bright flash his vision was obscured before he was in there. Looking around, he spotted Dobby, who peered back up at him with puppy eyes. After Harry had taken him on as an elf, he'd replaced King, apparently their bond was a bit more personal and the possibly-insane little guy could faintly detect his emotions. In all honesty, as annoying as it was to have one with such insight into his mind, the ability had proven far more useful than he'd ever admit. Such as now.
'Thanks, Dobby. I needed a bit of space.' His elf just nodded and popped away, while the last Potter slumped against the wall, before summoning a blanket and pillow, cushioning the ground, and falling asleep.
—
It took a week for Harry to fully recover from his injuries, another to get back to form, during which he took time to simply read, taking a break from training physically and magically. He'd even read a bit from the memoirs of the various founders, where they described their journeys through Norway and its view on magic. The country proved rather open minded at the time, unsurprising given its religious beliefs.
Leaving the chamber proved rather reminiscent of exiting the tent, only his patience was far more frayed after so little time with human interaction. Fleur clinging tightly to his arm only raised his ire even more, especially with the questions it wrought. She decides to show interest now, after a great feat and he is brought to the forefront!? Though, he mused, he had also saved her younger sister, which may have factored into it. Judging by the relief she'd shown, they were immensely close. He also has to admit she had supposedly done so before, he'd just been rather clueless, and her constant shifting from treating him like a suitor to a child was confusing.
In the end, he decided to simply ignore the press and began to avoid classes entirely much like before the task, only surfacing for meals. The battle with the Each-uisge just proved how out of his depth he had been, and much like the World Cup, in his arrogance he'd grown lax. Sadly, he was just as vulnerable to the folly of man as any.
Any meetings with Dumbledore grew ever more sparse, since he'd also decided to dedicate a bit of time to studying his new trophy. While the trident absolutely reeked with ancient magic, he'd yet to determine how exactly it was used beyond physical combat. It's abilities lay dormant, but he was determined to fix that.
It was one of the days he'd dedicated to experimenting with it, when Dobby arrived with the announcement that dinner was being served in the great hall. Setting the weapon off to the side in a carefully crafted case he'd ordered, he allowed the elf to take him into the antechamber, from which he proceeded to his meal.
Since the second task it was almost as if the entire Hogwarts atmosphere was holding its breath in anticipation, the Ravenclaws more on edge with a very real chance at having their champion succeed, the Beauxbatons students disgruntled, especially with theirs apparently obsessed with him, while the Durmstrang and Slytherins practiced indifference. Though, much like before the dip in the water, should one look closely it was evident Krum was nervous.
Sadly, the Daily Prophet had begun a slandering campaign that set most of the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs against him, naming him a new Dark Lord hiding away important pieces of magical history, never mind that they continuously called these artefacts evil. Dumbledore had stood up for him, but his mysterious disappearances and McGonagall's shock at his surfacing practically canceled out his opinion.
Now there was practically a Cold War between the Ravenclaws and the rest of the school, with Harry set right in the middle. Not that he cared. He was much happier to simply sit in the chamber away from human presence, studying his trident and cuddling with Hedwig.
As if to reflect the tenseness, the candles almost seemed dimmer than usual, casting long shadows on the walls when he finally stepped through the doors and moved forward, taking a seat at the head of the Ravenclaw table usually reserved for seventh years and the Beauxbatons delegation.
While he served himself, Hedwig flashed in, catching every pair of eyes in the hall as he removed the letter clamped in her beak, evidently taken by an owl attempting to reach him. The girl was always protective, checking over his mail before it arrived. She was also very possessive, which probably also factored in.
Opening the letter, he saw it was a summons to a court regarding the trident he'd found, demanding he bring it and there would be a debate on whether the ministry would keep it, for study and display. Sadly for them, he had no intention of giving it up. Memorizing the time, he burned it in his hands with his signature flames that he'd finally mastered wandlessly, only drawing more eyes.
As he began to eat, a certain blonde-haired Veela sidled up the table to sit in front of him, which he promptly ignored. At least, until she clasped her hands in front of her, enhancing her cleavage as she waited for him to look up. Sighing, he did so.
'Yes, Fleur?' The seventh year batted her eyelashes at him.
'I was wondering, 'Arry, if you would wish to come with me to the 'Ogsmeade village?' He blinked, taken by surprise.
'You mean, like a date?' Her smile grew.
'Oui, if you would do me the honour?' He could only stare.
'Why? Are you not dating Roger?' She scoffed, before her smile grew even wider.
'Non, 'e was merely a fill in for ze one I wanted to take to ze Ball.' Her wink was rather exaggerated, and he even noticed a slight tug in his head, which he promptly pushed away. He had no idea what was suddenly bringing on this forward behaviour, even earlier she hadn't been quite this overt, but it was a bit annoying. Casting a detection spell, he noticed with some disappointment she had not been potioned, imperiused, confounded or otherwise manipulated. Whether for good or bad, this was the real Fleur.
'So you wish to go on a date with me, despite being 3 years my senior?' Damn, it seemed with every question her grin just got bigger. It was, to some degree, aggravating.
'¿Sí, puedes acompañarme el sábado?' His eyebrows furrowed.
'Wasn't that Spanish?' Her smile grew rather devilish.
'I am a woman of many talents, my Maman insisted I learn everyzing.' The last word was said in a voice so husky it honestly left him lost. 'Arry, won't you join me to find out more? We could even… practice a few.' Another exaggerated wink, and while he may have been somewhat clueless socially, even he was able to pick up on what she was insinuating, which left him blushing slightly.
At this point, her insistence was wearing on his nerves, especially after being treated like a child half his time with her before the task, but at the same time if he rejected her in front of the entire hall not only would it prove humiliating she'd be emotionally vulnerable enough to possibly be preyed upon by some creep. He knew rather well what rejection felt like.
'I… suppose, Fleur. What time?' Her grin turned into a smirk.
'Seis, yo pienso. ¿Es bueno para tí?' He just nodded, Sirius had taught him a bit about foreign languages, claiming it was so he could better 'charm the ladies,' though Harry also knew it would help him as future Head of House and as the previous Black heir, the Animagus would know as much.
Returning to his meal, he missed the sad look Daphne sent his way, while Alicia comforted Katie, who'd been planning on doing the same thing. She had also caught a bit of interest in him, especially when it was revealed he hadn't known the hostages would have been brought back regardless, so he'd risked his life bringing the apparent 'Gabrielle Delacour,' back, as he'd read in the paper a couple days back. He'd yet to meet her officially despite the many protests the girl sent to her sister.
Finishing up, he wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood, moving towards the door. Calling for Dobby to retrieve the trident's case, he moved out into the grounds, and soon arrived in the Ministry foyer, a dark marble hall with a large fountain in the center, where several statues stood. Scoffing at their arrogance, he moved towards the elevators, ignoring the many passersby who paused to stare at him or his scar.
Honestly, he'd never had time to think about the old wound. Supposedly he was famous for the event that created it, but he had no recollection and the few times a dementor had gotten close to call up even faint whispers of the memory he'd gotten rid of them, though it did leave him with a slight wonder whether he could hear his mothers voice with enough time in their presence.
The lightning bolt was said to be a result of the killing curse being deflected, but he had his doubts. If the curse was meant to leave no mark, why did it give him such a wound, miscast or abnormal circumstances notwithstanding? Dumbledore had never had an answer, and with little reason to dwell on it since none had ever really brought it up, he'd practically forgotten about the mark. Though, he supposed, would he really be Harry Potter without it?
Pressing the button for the trial rooms, he waited patiently, dressed in proper robes he'd switched out for his Hogwarts set, several paper aeroplanes swooping up and down around his head. Nervously rubbing the back of his neck, he stepped out onto the floor, and peered around for room 6, where the debate was meant to be held. He suspected Dumbledore would already be there despite having left before the Headmaster, since as Chief Warlock he would need to act as mediator.
Entering, he found it rather sparse, with three podiums, two facing each other and one in between both, chairs stacked along the side with a desk each. Moving forward, he joined Sirius and Remus, watched as Dumbledore rose from his seat and took center stage, spotting Fudge, Malfoy, a toady woman in pink, along with several individuals he did not recognize.
'Greetings, esteemed witches and wizards, today we are convened to meet in a debate that will set a precedent for the rest of time, whether Lord Potter has full rights to the artefact known as the Seven Seas, or if it belongs with the ministry to be studied and displayed for all of wizardkind to see. Opening statements, if you please.' He looked to the sides, and as Sirius walked up, dressed suitably and coached by his brother in all but blood, recalling all his training as the Black heir, a cloaked figure stood opposite.
'Yes, Chief Warlock, we are here to speak on the matter of a historical weapon, found and retrieved by none other than my godson, Harry Potter. Now, as any who recall history of magic had they studied a bit beyond the dead Binns would know, the trident up for debate once belonged to Lord Poseidon, an ancient Greek wizard responsible for many of our water-based charms used in modern times. Lord Potter-Black restored the artefact after finding it in the depths of the Black Lake at Hogwarts during the Second Triwizard Tournament task, and while he may not be greek himself, his family holds close ties to many in the country, who themselves requested he keep it so long as they were allowed to study the weapon as reward for services past.' He took a breath here, sipping some water.
Harry had noted the use of both names, though he wondered what titles he held now. A trip to Gringotts was in order. Perhaps he could finally figure out his heritage without all the confusing history and constant debates of who did what and where. Dumbledore, being the heir of Ravenclaw, already threw a wrench in what he'd first heard entering the world. He might even be able to formally declare what he'd be known by.
'There is also that under the right of conquest in both English and Greek law, as there is none of the old wizard's blood left alive, he who finds the artefact holds all right to it, important piece of history or not.' Sirius ended his speech, going back to the table as the Headmaster nodded to him, before looking towards the other wizard at the podium.
'Whilst technically correct, Mr Black ignores an important caveat, that if challenged by another wizard over ownership of the name or artefact, he must accept or hand it over. Since Lord Potter did not respond to requests by Lord Malfoy, and the time has since passed, he must do so. Besides that, the Department of Mysteries, for which I am a representative, holds the right by English law to confiscate and study any ancient magical item.' Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, and Harry stood.
'You say you challenged me to a duel, when was this? I have received no such letter.' Lucius smirked widely.
'It was 2 weeks ago to this day, seen by none other than the Minister himself. Now, I will take my reward, and end this foolish debate.' The man began walking over, and Sirius quickly started to rise with a wand in hand, before Harry stood, placing a hand on his shoulder to reassure him.
'Ah, but if I have read the laws correctly, should I not have been informed properly, I still have an hour after receiving the news to accept, no?' He looked to the Chief Warlock, who nodded. 'I, Hadrian James Poterimus-Black, accept Lucius Abraxas Malfoy's offer of a duel over the artefact known as the Seven Seas.' His apparent opponent's stance suddenly shifted while Dumbledore raised his wand and the entire area shifted into something rather arena-like, with both on each side.
Harry readied himself into a dueling stance while Lucius did the same, and once the Headmaster raised his wand, stepped off the stage and signaled the commencement of the duel, it began fiercely.
Sadly, the elder Malfoy was not in Voldemort's inner circle for his connections and cunning alone. He was no slouch in magical strength, and his adaptiveness translated rather well from the political arena to the battlefield. The man clearly specialized in curses, though his charm work was not without merit, while Harry shot right back with transfiguration and his own variety of hexes, with the occasional emerald fire thrown in.
For the moment it was a stalemate, each stone leopard and burning boa countered while every bone breaker and vacuum charm dispelled with a wave of his wand. Flashes of light went by so fast they were nearly impossible to follow as the experienced wizards showed skill that amazed the audience, but Harry's younger body with far more stamina and flexibility was proving to outlast his older opponent.
He quickly ducked under a laceration curse, sending one right back which was quickly shielded, as the duel picked up pace. In all honesty, the Ravenclaw hadn't expected this, but Dobby had insisted he be prepared for anything so a dragon hide undershirt would help protect him from any lethal spells, at least those aimed at his torso. Creating a fiery lion, he ordered it to attack the man and quickly conjured a ball of water, transforming it into several large eagles which were sent diving into Lucius, as the elder of the two prepared a wall and a pool of water, sending forward a minor blood-boiling curse that would stun him for a moment, which was swiftly side-stepped.
His creations were destroyed, and after a moment's hesitation he summoned his emerald flames, encircling himself in their protective warmth, before sending tendrils towards his rival, steadily encircling the man. In a fit of worry, Malfoy created a stream of water that evaporated rather quickly, before having enough and firing a dozen disarming curses, the ward covering the arena preventing anything immediately lethal from appearing, saving his arse from Azkaban.
Shielding, and spotting his opponent gasping for air, Harry finally closed the box and knocked Lucius out, retrieving his wand after ending the flames. Dumbledore stepped forward, nodding in acknowledgement of his win, to which the Ravenclaw gave one back and retrieved the case and his uncles, moving towards the exit. Sadly, the pink clad woman from earlier decided to step in their way as Fudge and his stooges revived Malfoy.
'Mr Potter, I demand you hand over that bit of ministry property now!' After the day he'd had, his patience had worn out.
'It is LORD Potter Ms Toady, and to you, Lord Poterimus. As you can see, I incapacitated and retrieved the wand of Lord Malfoy, which gives me full right to the trident, and despite your notions the ministry is king, I can assure you there is, in fact, only a queen, who would side with me were she aware of these events. Now, get out of my way before I force you to do so.' Her scowl only grew with each word, and she moved away while fuming silently. He smirked as he walked on.
'Who was that?' They had stepped onto the elevator, and he looked towards Lupin, but it was Sirius who answered.
'Dolores Unbridge, senior undersecretary of minister Fudge, and thoroughly unpleasant woman. Supposedly she got up high while she was young by sleeping with every man higher in position than her, then retained that by getting the dirty secrets of everyone and anyone she could when her beauty began to expire. She has a finger in every pie, is a staunch Pureblood supremacist, and seems to worship the very ground Fudge walks on.' He nodded, though he found it hard to believe the woman he'd seen was ever pretty. He supposed vindictiveness and cruelty did that to a person, after all, look at Voldemort. Last he'd seen, he was an ugly shade, very unlike the attractive young man in the chamber of secrets.
When the chime sounded, they stepped off and headed to the exit, where he said his goodbyes and had Dobby bring him back to Hogwarts, and decided to take a walk up to the Astronomy Tower, clear his head a bit. Things had taken a rather interesting turn the latter half of the day, and he needed space.
The path was rather boring, and when he finally reached the top and opened the door, leaning on the stone bannister, he breathed in heavily, allowing the cold air to reinvigorate his body before he went to sleep. It was times like these that he felt truly free, away from all responsibility and any fickle populace, from matters of the heart and heavy practicing. No daunting fate creeping over his shoulder, no destiny to weigh him down. Just the vast expanse of the grounds, birds soaring overhead.
Gracie had left some time ago, he'd ordered her to leave after she had grown a bit too big, and while they still held a bond, the time had come for her to leave the nest. He hoped to visit her over the summer during his travels, but for now his only true companionship was Hedwig, his fierce Phoenix. That was one good thing about her. She'd never leave him, would be by his side until the day he died, much like Fawkes for Dumbledore. If there was any soul he could truly, fully put his trust into, it was her.
Yet, that brought him back to the matters of the heart. His yearning had been there since he was a child, but puberty had only made it worse, lust beginning to fill his thoughts. It certainly didn't help that his potential suitors were all immensely attractive women. Whilst he would never admit it to anyone, Fleur had excited him a bit with her offer, and that weakness was becoming ever more glaring.
Sadly, his lack of social expertise and desire to avoid making any promises had led to a lack of viable partners, so he'd been forced to deal with his feelings himself, which really, was not a long term solution. With as many responsibilities and privileges he held, Harry was a rather tempting target for any scarlet woman or black widow, and if they could take advantage of his lusts, well… it wasn't exactly a situation he desired.
For now, he'd just have to think about it, perhaps find a proper girlfriend. Who knew, maybe he could even find someone through dating? For now though, he had plans with Fleur, and he would have to see how it went before he made any conclusive decisions.
So, uh get ready, the next chapter's a bit of an emotional nuke. Anyways, here a few things get revealed, Harry's teenage horniness finally kicks in, he continues searching for his partner, and Fleur finally gives in to what she wants.
But is she too late? Do Daphne and/or Katie still have a chance?
For the record, I've taken spanish classes since I was a toddler, no google translate here. Also, each chapter title is a song title, I recommend you listen to it as you read, especially next chapter. Gets me into the right mood.