Disclaimer: Nothing is mine; everything is J K Rowling's.

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Chapter 79

'What are you doing?' Fleur demanded, as another pebble crumbled into dust at the tip of Harry's wand.

'Creating a spell,' he explained. 'I've done plenty of work for my NEWTs over the last few days, so I thought I'd do something more interesting.'

'You're destroying pebbles,' Fleur noted sceptically, 'that's the eleventh.'

'I know,' Harry chuckled. 'It's developed from the Withering Curse and the Disintegrating Curse, but it only seems to work if my wand is touching the target, and it only affects inanimate objects.'

'Still useful,' Fleur decided. She, of course, recognised the piece of magic he had used to destroy the door to the Nott's residence, and the table in the hall.

'Very,' Harry grinned, 'good for dramatic entrances, and clearing obstructions.'

'If it already works, what are you trying to do?' Fleur queried.

'I am trying to imbue it on to conjured items,' he revealed with a smirk, 'but I can't get it to last longer than a few seconds, and I need to touch my wand to the objects I have conjured to imbue it.'

There was a short silence as she considered his problem, frowning cutely.

'The butterflies,' Fleur exclaimed suddenly, 'you conjure them wandlessly, but you can also create them from your wand, no?'

'I can.' A smile spread across his face as he realised where Fleur was going with her idea.

'So imbue each conjured butterfly with the spell upon creation, then you need only make it last longer.'

'Which I can do by simply making it more powerful now I don't have to cast it at something before imbuing it,' Harry grinned. He conjured a single, ebony-winged insect, suffusing it with his new spell as it left his wand's tip, and directed it across the table to alight upon the pebble.

The small stone crumbled into dust, and the butterfly vanished in a wisp of black vapour.

'You're brilliant,' Harry enthused, leaning across to chastely kiss the girl who'd solved his problem in a few seconds. She firmly clutched the front of his robes, holding his lips to hers to steal far more than the chaste kiss he had offered, and glancing in the direction of the orange juice he had just been drinking at the taste of his tongue.

'I know,' Fleur smiled, releasing him, and playfully tilting her chin into the air. 'How long have you been struggling to make that spell more useful?'

'Not that long,' Harry defended. Fleur raised one delicate eyebrow. 'Fine,' he conceded, 'on and off for the past week, but most spells take years to develop, so I'm still doing pretty well.'

'Almost as well as me,' she agreed, producing a small, polished, wooden box, with inlaid, metal circles upon the top.

'You finished it?' Harry realised.

'I did,' her smile grew proud, 'if you get it wrong, you'll be paralysed for about a century and a half, or until someone releases you.'

Harry's hand paused halfway to the box, and slowly slid back across to his side of the table.

'What are you keeping in there?' He inquired.

'Not much,' Fleur shrugged, blushing slightly, 'just some odds and ends that I've been given.'

'Oh,' Harry eyed the bands of runes around the rings, curiosity piqued.

'There are five rings, and nine runes on each,' Fleur commented, catching his look, 'not good odds for guessing.'

'Not good odds at all,' he agreed. His curiosity wasn't strong enough to risk paralysis. Harry didn't want to invade her privacy anyway, even if he did quite want to know why she was blushing, and should he get caught doing so he'd likely be spending at least a few hours paralysed. Fleur could be quite vindictively vengeful when she thought she was wronged.

'Where's Hedwig?' The box disappeared back into whichever cupboard beside the sofa it had come from.

'I sent her to get my OWL results,' Harry answered. 'The traceable Ministry owls can't find us, but Hedwig seems to be able to leave to hunt and then return easily enough.'

'Maybe she knows the secret, being your owl,' Fleur wondered, 'or maybe the Fidelius Charm relies on concepts too abstract for her to understand. It certainly doesn't seem to be keeping any of the spiders out, or the earwigs.' Fleur pulled a face.

'If only you were so lucky,' Harry grinned. 'Sadly your most powerful piece of magic is not enough to keep you safe against such terrifying creatures.'

'They are horrible,' she defended pulling her slim shoulders together in discomfort. 'Just thinking about their creepy little tails makes me shiver.'

'It's a good thing nobody else knows about this achilles heel,' Harry laughed. 'If I can conjure butterflies I'm sure I can manage earwigs too.'

'I have never seen them in France,' Fleur retorted softly, 'so my parents and Gabrielle do not know.' His playful threat dawned on her then, and she narrowed her eyes to smile dangerously sweetly at him across the table. 'If you summon so much as a single one of those horrible creatures you will find yourself sleeping on the sofa again.'

'It might be worth the screams,' Harry chuckled.

'Oh,' Fleur's smile turned sultry, 'there's nothing you would miss about sharing a bed with me?' It sounded so much more suggestive in French than it ever could in English, and filled Harry's head with a multitude of images, none of which were appropriate.

'Maybe a couple,' he grinned bashfully, shifting on his chair.

'More than a couple,' Fleur smirked triumphantly.

The arrival of Hedwig in a soft flutter of white feathers and low, satisfied hoot interrupted Harry's likely ill advised reply.

'What did you get?' Fleur asked, an edge of competitiveness to her tone.

'I haven't even got the letter,' Harry pointed out, retrieving the thin, brown envelope from between Hedwig's talons. 'Are you that eager to know if you have beaten me?'

'You have now,' Fleur responded. 'But no, I am not that eager to know if I have beaten you,' she smirked archly, 'I want to know by how much.'

'What did you get?' Harry asked carefully, shielding his envelope from her, and pushing's chair back so he was out of her reach.

'The highest grade,' she smiled.

'So Os in everything,' Harry deduced.

'Whatever the English equivalent of full marks is.'

'Right.' Harry ran his eyes down the list of grades. He had done well, incredibly well, given everything else he had been doing, but for the first time he wished maybe he had put a little effort into some of his less useful subjects.

'Can I see?' Fleur pleaded. The gaze of her vast, soft, blue eyes was irresistible, no matter how hard Harry tried to counter its effect with occlumency.

'Fine,' he sighed, surrendering the envelope, and resigning himself to her teasing.

'You did very well,' Fleur smiled, 'especially considering what is happening around us.'

Here it comes, Harry realised, as her smile turned playful.

'But there are a couple of letters in here that aren't Os,' she commented innocently, 'what do they mean?'

'You know full well what that means,' Harry told her.

'You mean that you didn't get the highest grade in four subjects,' her affected surprise was cute, but he fought the smile it brought to his lips out of principle. 'Well I suppose that if we really need to undertake anything challenging to do with the subjects that you're less apt in then I can help you.'

'What challenging things are we ever going to need to undertake involving Astronomy, or a History of Magic?' Harry asked. 'Unless you've been planning a goblin rebellion while you've been at Gringotts?'

'I meant Potions and Herbology,' Fleur responded, 'as you very well know.'

'Well,' Harry grinned. 'I have Neville for Herbology, but if he isn't around I'm sure I can deal with any annoying shrubbery we come across. Fiendfyre is a gardener's best friend.'

'And the potions?' Fleur laughed.

'I know a very beautiful, very intelligent, wonderful girl who would surely help me if I asked for it,' Harry said gently to a glowing Fleur, 'but I haven't spoken to Hermione in a while, so it might take a week or two to convince her.'

He chuckled at his pouting partner, and ducked the playfully thrown ball of fire.

'It's a good thing all our furniture is fairly fireproof,' he decided, watching the small pool of blue flames spattered across the table behind him gutter out.

'I asked for it specially,' Fleur admitted. 'For Gabby. She is quite taken with her new ability to throw fire; it is one of the last things we learn how to do.'

'Has she set fire to anything?' Harry asked.

'No,' Fleur shook her head with a smile, 'maman has all the same enchantments we do.'

'Anyone?'

Fleur laughed daintily. 'Not that I know of, but it would be best to be nice to her, or she might try.'

'I'm always nice to her,' Harry objected.

'She is very fond of you,' Fleur nodded, 'as long as you don't steal anything sweet from her you'll be fine.'

'Sounds familiar,' Harry grinned.

Something thrummed within the house. A soft, but unmissable vibration that permeated the entire house.

'Someone is here,' Harry noted.

'Sirius?'

'Probably,' Harry nodded, but his wand remained in his hand, just in case. He really didn't want to open the door to find a scarlet-eyed Voldemort and a host of Death Eaters and not have his wand to hand. 'I'll get it,' he offered quickly.

A flicker of annoyance passed across Fleur's face at his overprotectiveness, but it was tempered by empathy. She had felt no differently once, but, unlike him, Fleur could be kept out of the thick of things more easily, and he found it harder to accept that she might have to be in danger.

He cautiously opened the door.

'Just me,' his godfather said soberly. There were shadows under his eyes, deep, dark ones that looked like they had little to do with Azkaban.

His cousin, Harry remembered. Tonks.

He had liked the colourful auror. In a few brief minutes of conversation he had been able to see both her sincere dedication to doing what was right and her compassion. She had died bravely beside him, against a wizard few had any hope of defeating.

Guilt twisted within him, because he knew Voldemort had killed her to take something away from him, even if she had chosen to fight, and even if it had been her duty to do so. The life of Nymphadora Tonks had been payment for what Harry had taken from Voldemort; the Dark Lord placed no more value on her life than that.

The smiles of moments ago seemed an age away now as Harry ushered Sirius into the house and shut the door behind him.

'Dumbledore is back,' he said flatly, slumping in the chair across from the sofa Harry shared with Fleur.

'Did he say what he has been doing?' Harry inquired.

'Chasing things that are important to Voldemort and crucial for the war,' Sirius sneered. 'The only evidence there is that he's even been outside while others die in the streets are his new pair of gloves, and you'd be heard pressed to find a more ridiculously decorated item of clothing.'

Fleur exchanged a worried glance with Harry that Sirius caught.

'Sorry,' his godfather apologised. 'There's nobody else I can talk to about this. Members of the Order are dying all over the place, and they just look sad and repeat the same mantra of trusting Dumbledore over and over.'

'Tonks,' Harry said quietly.

'She's dead,' Sirius told him sadly. 'You already knew,' he realised after a moment.

'I was there,' Harry admitted.

'What happened?' Sirius asked simply.

'Voldemort,' Harry answered. 'He wanted to make a point.'

'She's the fourth member of the order to die over the last month,' Sirius said hollowly. 'This war isn't like the last. Voldemort has learnt from his mistakes; there are no muggle hunts, no unnecessary raiding and murdering, just constant, unending attacks on his enemies. We can't keep up, especially now the only auror who's a member is Moody.'

'What happened to Shacklebolt?'

'Disappeared in Yorkshire helping hit wizards,' Sirius answered distantly, 'another pyrrhic Ministry victory.'

'Who else?' Harry inquired carefully.

'From the beginning,' Sirius ran a finger along the arm of the chair, 'Mundungus, of course, Arthur, Shacklebolt, Tonks, and Emmeline Vance.' He fell quiet. 'Haven't heard from Moony in a while either, not since Dumbledore suggested it might be a good idea to offer werewolves an alternative to Fenrir Greyback.'

'Lupin,' Harry murmured. He hadn't thought about his father's friend and former professor in a while. The werewolf had slunk away from the school when his secret was outed, and Harry had not heard from him since, despite Lupin's close relationship with his father. The fact that a convicted criminal on the run had managed to see him more often than Lupin won the werewolf no points in Harry's book.

'At least everyone else is losing people just as fast,' Sirius said vindictively. 'The Ministry estimates almost half of its hit wizards are dead, and that includes those they have recalled; the aurors are faring slightly better, but not by much. It's almost a thousand dead now.'

'And Voldemort?'

'Without anyone in the aurors' department we don't know the most recent numbers, but last time we did it was estimated that a little over eight hundred of his followers are killed or missing. The problem is that he has rallied many creatures to his cause, and attracted the support of the desperate purists from Europe. His ranks are swelled with those who seek freedom from justice on the continent.'

'So he has more followers?' Fleur inquired

'About even, actually,' Sirius corrected, 'but the Death Eaters have the advantage. Hit wizards aren't particularly well trained, they're meant to catch smugglers, not dark wizards, and the upper echelons of Voldemort's followers are very proficient at duelling.'

'You don't need to tell me that,' Harry frowned. He remembered the skill Malfoy and Bellatrix had displayed, experience beyond his emulation, and that was with the two of them not even trying to work together. A group would be more than a match for almost any foe he could imagine, and no doubt that was exactly what Voldemort had intended.

'I know I don't,' Sirius grinned. 'Bellatrix, Yaxley, Avery, and Macnair if you were at Diagon Alley, and I would hazard a guess at Nott as well, given the use of fiendfyre. You've done more damage to Voldemort's Inner Circle than either the Order or the Ministry; I've only got half of Lucius Malfoy's face.'

'It sounds like a lot more names when you list them,' Harry remarked absently, not denying his responsibility for their deaths.

'It's good someone is doing something,' Sirius replied firmly, 'else we'll be torn to pieces when Voldemort stops sending his less dangerous, more expendable followers at us and commits his true Death Eaters.'

'Does Dumbledore not intend for you to fight back?' Fleur cut in incredulously.

'He does not belief in killing,' Sirius shook his head. 'Dumbledore spend his time gazing into the distant future he hope for where everyone is alive and redeemed save for Voldemort himself.'

'So he expects you to do what?' Fleur demanded. 'Capture them, send them to Azkaban, and wait for them to break out again?'

'He insists that now Amelia Bones has taken his advice and included many hit wizards and aurors in Azkaban's wardens that the prison is both impregnable and inescapable again.'

'If Azkaban is guarded by serious number of aurors, and the Dementors, then he may have a point,' Harry equivocated, 'but why take the risk? If they do escape, and harm a single person after having done so, that blood is on his hands.'

'I don't think Dumbledore sees the world that way,' Sirius snorted. 'I think he pictures himself as offering redemption and salvation to those that have lost their way. The consequences of his mercy do not seem to concern him anywhere near as much as they perhaps should.'

'He is an old fool,' Fleur decided acidly, tossing her hair. 'Albus Dumbledore has entangled himself within his own labyrinthine twists of delusion; it is a dangerous wizard that is so strongly opinionated and so powerful.'

'He is not concerned with Voldemort for the moment anyway,' Sirius sighed. 'The reason I came was to tell the two of you that in every moment I have seen him since his return he has been devoting his time and energy to locating you.'

'Oh?' Harry couldn't imagine he would have very much success. There were very few ways to trace them back to the Meadow.

'I believe he suspects that I know where you are,' Sirius smiled wearily. 'Once again I find myself falsely accused of keeping secrets.'

'Were you careful in coming here today?' Fleur asked worriedly.

'Very.' Sirius' smile brightened ever so slightly. 'Dumbledore went to speak with your relatives, hoping to gather some clue to your intent from your interaction with them.'

'He will not find our location there,' Harry frowned, 'but he will discover our relationship, Fleur.'

'Let him,' she shrugged gracefully, 'he would have discovered it soon enough, and he can't find me here anyway.'

'He can find you in London,' Sirius warned.

'Then I shall terminate my contract with Gringotts,' she decided simply. 'It's not like I'm actually doing any work or making any money; the goblins will understand.'

'Do it soon,' Harry urged, utterly unwilling to leave her exposed. Dumbledore had already shown himself willing to sacrifice one innocent to end the war, another seemed hardly much of a stretch.

'I will,' she promised, putting a hand on his leg to reassure him.

'So how is everyone enjoying Grimmauld Place?' Harry asked.

'It's quiet,' Sirius answered slowly, 'and it feels oddly empty. After Nymphadora's death my mother's portrait ordered Kreacher to destroy it. She didn't want to watch the last days of her beloved family, or, worse, see our name taken by the Malfoys. Dumbledore has returned to Hogwarts, but when he does make an appearance it is to try and influence me into revealing your location, and to express his disappointment in your current path.'

'I'm sure he will give us a chance at redemption,' Fleur quipped.

'Of course,' Sirius grinned briefly before his smile collapsed. 'Most of the older members of the Order are fighting, and are constantly away, and the younger members don't seem to have truly grasped what is happening. Molly occupies herself cleaning the house to keep herself from missing Arthur, Ginny is still a little girl, and the Twins are still making jokes items.'

'Ron and Hermione?' Harry inquired. The former had seemed to mature a great deal after his father's death.

'Ron spends most of his time studying, practicing magic, and learning from the three older brothers who understand what is going on. He has grown up.' Sirius' tone carried a note of approval.

'If only he had been so mature two years ago,' Fleur commented disparagingly. Harry smiled at her fondly; his partner held deep grudges against anyone she felt had wronged him. If he looked back honestly though, he could hardly solely blame either Ron or Hermione. His emotions had been wild, uncontrolled, his self-control had been lacking, and his responses sometimes unmerited.

The effect of the horcrux, perhaps, he wondered.

It would certainly not surprise him if the soul fragment had been able to affect him in his weaker moments.

'Hermione, on the other hand, has hardly changed.' Sirius' frown returned the shadows to his face. 'I've been scouring the family library for any mention of those horcruxes you mentioned, and she's been in there as often as me, reading through tome after tome. I've kept an eye on her, and I haven't caught her reading anything dangerous, but she's completely focused on her books, and hardly notices anything else.'

'I always imagined she would become a professor,' Harry nodded. 'It just seemed to fit.'

'She needs to learn a little more about the magical world itself for that,' Sirius remarked, 'but it would suit her. She's very intelligent, but often blinded by her own brilliance.'

'Being wrong a little more often might lend her some perspective and help her get over herself,' Fleur smirked.

'Hypocrite,' Harry teased.

'I know when I am wrong,' Fleur defended.

'You just never admit it,' Harry finished for her.

'Are you comfortable?' She asked sweetly.

'Yes.' Harry's answer was wary.

'That's good,' her smile turned predatory, 'because if you continue you may find yourself sleeping here, and I wouldn't want you to be in any discomfort.'

Sirius cackled gleefully at their exchange. 'You two remind me very much of James and Lily sometimes,' he chuckled. 'James teased Lily constantly, and I mean constantly, until eventually he'd push it too far, and then she'd hex him horribly.'

'Fleur throws fire,' Harry grinned.

'I do.' Her smirk was proud.

'But she's not hit me yet,' Harry continued, slipping an arm around her waist.

'From this range,' Fleur's fingers were coated in shivering, blue sparks, 'I can hardly miss.'

'Who would you kiss if you immolated me?' Harry played his ace, his favourite card in their playful arguments; the pout he had copied from Gabrielle.

'I suppose I might miss you now and again,' she admitted, but he could see the temptation to kiss him written across her face, and in the soft biting of her lip.

'So romantic,' Sirius sighed.

'You're just jealous,' Harry grinned.

'Of course I am,' he gestured at Fleur's slender, fire-coated fingers, 'she can conjure fire. Do you know how much fun I could have had at Hogwarts if I could have done that? Girls would have loved it.'

Harry snorted. 'You would have spent all your time setting fire to Snape,' he disagreed.

'True.' Sirius' face grew slightly wistful. 'It would have been such fun.'

'Well you should set him alight now if you want to,' Fleur smiled, glancing at Harry. 'Spies have a short life expectancy.'

'Dumbledore would be furious,' Sirius grinned. 'For some reason Snape is his favourite. I can't do it though, he's too important.'

'Important?' Harry raised both eyebrows. 'He spies for both of the sides that intend for me to die, feeding information back and forth between both his masters. I'm fairly confident he was the one who told Voldemort where Katie Bell lived, and thus is the reason why he attacked Diagon Alley.'

'And that's just the beginning of his sins,' Fleur added icily.

'You think he is the reason Nymphadora died?' The shadows slipped back onto Sirius face, and a furious, feral rage glinted in his eyes.

'Voldemort came for Katie,' Harry told him. 'He came to take away someone from me in return for me taking Bellatrix from him. Who else among his Death Eaters knows where a Hogwarts student lives. He would've asked Snape; I would've.'

'That self-serving, selfish, greasy-haired puddle of slime,' Sirius spat. 'I'm going to rip his throat out with my teeth the next time I see him.'

'No,' Harry said sternly.

'He deserves to die,' Sirius raged. 'You said it yourself; he's not important to us, and he's killing people we care about!'

'His life is Harry's,' Fleur said sharply, cutting through his godfather's apoplexy.

'Why?' The rage had stilled temporarily, but Harry knew his next words would ignite it again beyond all reason.

'My parents died because of Voldemort's fear of a prophecy,' Harry began quietly, feeling the cold hate spread within his chest, 'a prophecy that he heard from the lips of Severus Snape.'

Sirius went very still in his chair.

'Dumbledore told me,' Harry revealed evenly, hoping that the longer he kept talking the calmer Sirius would become. 'It's the only thing he has really shared, and he only said it to convince me to give Snape a chance to redeem himself.'

Sirius vanished in a deafening crack of barely controlled apparition.

'We should not have keyed him into the apparition wards,' Harry frowned, concerned.

'We didn't,' Fleur reminded him, her wand out. 'He broke them.'

'I hope he doesn't kill Snape,' Harry worried, pulling nervously at the hem of Fleur's dress.

'Because you want your revenge?' She asked carefully, covering his hand with hers before he pulled the seam apart.

'Because openly killing Snape will infuriate both Voldemort and Dumbledore. Sirius is already on the run from the Ministry, he has enough enemies, any more and we may have to hide him with us for the rest of his life, and that's no way for anyone to live.'

'I'm sure he won't.' Fleur didn't sound very sure.

'You hope he won't,' Harry corrected.

'There's nothing we can do but wait, and hope he calms down,' she counselled. 'Let's go and fix the apparition wards,' she suggested. 'I'll teach you how to do it yourself; it will keep your mind off worrying.'

Harry nodded. It was a good idea. The piece of magic would be useful, and Fleur was right; there wasn't anything they could do but wait and hope Sirius came to his senses before he did something stupid.

AN: Read, review and enjoy, thanks to everyone who does!