Uncharted.

Premise: The thing of a soul is—it recognizes its completion, no matter what the race, skin color, or.. sex a person may be. This story is about two people, who happened unto each other in unusual circumstances; confused and most of all human, this story will attempt to tap into the very recesses of our psyche and most importantly—our free will. Now.. these are teenagers- so.. the hormones are rather abundant. If it offends you, look elsewhere.. Keep an open mind, comments, reviews and questions always appreciated

Disclaimer: Simply put, these are JK Rowling's babies and I aim to honour them as such-- but this is a FanFiction. It's to be taken with a grain of salt.

i.

..Seeing you act like you're somebody else

Gets me frustrated..

~Avril Lavigne~

"I could do this all day.."

The comfortable silence that had settled between the pair was broken with those few words. His tone was gentle- pressing unto the cusps of a dream. It was a sound that she decided- was… pleasant; liken to that of the first rays of Summer's Sun. She lay there contemplating movement, but was too enthralled with the current activity being imparted on her. She didn't want to FEEL this way- despite what her body was saying; it was as if, she were weak, that her independent nature was all but destroyed- but he had asked, he had begged- and she relented.. Her Bed-Mate's fingers were whispering over her flesh as they coursed along the length of her arm, sending unsolicited goose-pimples in the wake of his exploration.

His lips crested into a lopsided smile as she elicited a tendered laugh. Her sound was so musical, so pure, it took his very breath away. "Tickled, did it..?" his deep basso chimed. His mate turned her head a smidgeon and buried her face into the down pillows in vain attempts to stifle the now free-falling trill of her laughter. With a gasp taken, she finally rolled from her side to rest upon her back as she looked up to the firey haired youth, who was now.. pinning her upon the mussied beddings.

"RON! Really now.. must you continue on so? You KNOW very we—" The young woman was soon hushed with a pair of chapped lips pressed unto her own. They were hungry, she could tell. In a test of wills the girl pressed back, fighting for dominance before placing her hands upon his chest and gently digging her finger nails onto his bared ivory-hued skin. She broke the dangerously maddening kiss. Leaving her just as ragged in breathing as he. Ron Weasley dipped his head once more, aching for another round. "Stop.. RON.. no..We'll be LATE.." came her desperate plea.

Grudingly, he grunted his reply and shrugged his broad shoulders. He relented and allowed the girl beneath him a breadth of movement. With a coy smile, the young woman rose from the entanglement of their bodies and placed a chaste kiss upon Ron's temple, "Thank you.." she murmured. Easing his sinewy frame upon the tattered remnants of the mattress, Ron Weasley afforded himself the luxury of raking his wandering eye over his companion, his best friend, and now.. "Oy… dress slowly, mm? S'a least you could do 'Moine."

With a lobbed glance form over her shoulder Hermione Granger rolled her eyes at her lover, "HO-NEST-LY".. She gawffawed at him all the while she slipped into her rule-regulated attire. She had changed so much, thought Ron, continuing to take into account every little nuance that was Hermione Granger. Her hair was now a healthy shade of Mahongany, with traces of tan glinting in the sunlight. Much more tame now than when they'd first met- silken to the touch. Definitely one of his more.. favorite spots to visit. His eyes coursed along her now.. athletically toned frame- certainly her summers abroad on those muggle beaches had done wonders for her.

Her flesh was sun kissed. But not to the point of being bronzed, complimenting her amber hued oculars. Hermione's lips her full tinged with a gentle blush. Much more taller than he recalled, and.. very well developed- becoming more than that lanky girl of yester-year. Ron hadn't realized how long he was staring before his reverie was broken by her semi-frantic waving before his eyes, "Did you hear anything I've said then?" He nodded mutely. "Right." Came her unbelieving statement, "C'mon- before we get an ear full of it from Harry and the others that we've been more than JUST studying.." As Ron drew his form from the confines of the bed-sheets, he couldn't help but smirk at Hermione's comment; the woman refused to call their dawn breaking trysts anything more than. It amused him.

Ron took his time as he dressed, much to the dismay of his bedmate and finally managed to straighten himself decently enough; before using his large paws to rake through his ginger-colored tresses, in idle hopes to tame the chaotic spill.

"It's alright you know Hermione- snogging isn't a curse word." Ron cooed before making his way from his prefect bedroom towards the Great Hall. "Well.. c'mon then, we're late Ms Granger."

December: Egypt- 5 months ago

She had no time to react- she had already been laid upon her back. The tremendous force of the blow still resounded throughout her form. Her mind screamed for her to move, but it was to no avail. Her eyes were watered, disorienting her more. Then, she tasted it.. the coppery liquid that began to pool in the back of her mouth. Her blood- it reminded her all too soon about her mortality. But her thoughts were all but thrown back to the now. Quick footsteps echoed in the expanse all before a harsh guttural growl pierced the dimmed area..

"Ecce SIGNUM!" Came the saving grace-sound of her partner. She hadn't realized when he appeared, but it mattered not- she was saved from a perilous journey to Egypt's underworld. The silver-topped half-breed amazingly managed to peel her prone form from the packed earth. Time enough to witness her partner's spell to be cast upon their shadowy opponent. The hulking mass devoid of light, though would not be had. Mammoth paw-like appendages afforded swipes to the fore, in effect throwing the spell-caster's incantation off. "BLASTED! Get up, woman! It's getting away!"

All she recalled was the red-headed man bounding off after that God-forsaken creature; but with her insides burning from the previous assault, Fleur DeLacour rose to her lofty height. Steadying herself as best she could before murmuring a soft incantation and disapparating from her current locale. Because of the bond that she shared with William Weasley.. her partner in more ways than one.. she reapparated alongside the gruff man. When the plume of smoke had cleared Fleur's form braced itself against the nearest wall of rock.

"Bill.. did ve--?"

"..no, DAMMIT Fleur. –WE-.. YOU did not! You just bloody sat there! We had it in our GRASP!" Bellowed William.. his face flushed pink from his rage. It almost equaled his hair color, thought Fleur. His hair was pulled back, but straggled wisps from the endeavor sprung up in odd spots, giving him an incredulously horrific appearance. No longer the handsome relic hunter she had grown to.. care about. He paced before her, still clenching his wand in his left hand, as his veins pulsed at the nape of his neck. Her own temper rose.

Her magnificent silver-crystal eyes flashed in warning as she slowly began to close the gap between herself and he. "Chargin d'amor, oui?" she purred out lowly, "For yuir info'mation , love.. I 'andn't known dat my life being in danjour was so.. miniscule-- I WAS DOWN, William.. I din't 'ave a choice!" her voice- to Bill, was a low contralto, known to have brought on a certain.. 'feeling' to his form, was now grated with an edge, animalistic. Fleur's silver-blue tresses, pulled into a loose ponytail.. dovetailed to the small of her back. Liken to a whip readying to strike.

Bill Weasley's posture stiffened as Fleur neared. She was beautiful.. the sensuality of her walk to the tone of her voice, it's the innate curse of the Veela. But.. this one is still half human- so the spell if she were trying to weave one, fell short. He hated her at this moment. Blind rage filled his gut as he leered and dipped his head closer.. cerulean storms met a sea of evergreen. "Failure in this relationship.. I can stand- Failure in work.. I can do without- We are the subsidiary of the Ministry, DeLacour. We are expected to find this objects and return them to the magic-world.. If you can't grasp that concept then- I expect your resignation on my desk no later than 2 this day, luv."

She would not.. COULD not show her emotions. The weight of his words slowly slipped past that tough resolve. Apparent in her eyes. But she be damned if he would let him get the upper hand. "Consider it done, Mr. Wees-ly. At least.. you were kind enough to acknowledge what we had.." she stated coldly. Fleur knew that Bill Weasley had always been in love with his work. First and foremost. She had hoped.. one day that there would be room enough in his heart to allow another. But.. it was hopeless from the very first time they had laid eyes on one another. Grasping her tendered side, the ¾'s Veela whirled upon her planted heel-- and eeked out her spell..

A gentle plume of smoke billowed about her. Her eyes were transfixed on Bill's back. During their time together-- despite the uproarious fights, it had been a complimentary relationship. Both driven with passion for their magics, both having sharp minds for tasks that required intricate spell-casting. With a determined nod to no one save herself, Fleur had made a decision.. Though no longer working for Bill Weasley, she would find her own niche. And truth be told.. she did get a thrill with the magical relic hunting. Were it not for her, the majority of the relics would still be hidden. She'll just have to recruit the best from the world's most.. non-descript school of wizardry.

She's been far to long away from home. The need to see her beloved sister and family once more burned into her. There was a new pain settling on her heart, much more prominent than the physical pain that had been dealt to her. Fleur suddenly felt drained, her eyes listing closed just a smidgeon, gave her a brief reprieve from surreality of what just occurred. It's time to go home.. there will be time enough to gather her things from the loft she had shared with Bill. Later. So as the smoke swallowed her whole it gave her time to let her pride slip, and shed a few tears.

Present Day..

"Finally- Where in Sam Hein have you two—" The question never needed to be spoken, realized Harry. The dark haired 17 year old glanced between his two lifelong mates before allowing a slight curl to the corner of his lips to be seen. Ron, had by this time, turned a healthy hue of pinkish-red, but beaming stupidly none the less. Hermione, took the more subtle route- aversion of the eyes. Taking his spectacles from the bridge of his nose, he began buffing the lenses, "I guess that.." Harry mewed, motioning towards Ron's cheekiness, "very well answers that..." glancing then to Hermione, after situating his glasses back upon its proper perch, the once gangly youth clucked his tongue upon the roof of his mouth; in effect chastising the young prefect. All to which the girl offered a roll of her eyes and a huff- sending her soft wavy tendrils of hair from her countenance.

"Get off it Harry- It's not as if you and Gin haven't been studying for long hours as well.." retorted Hermione. Her deep rosewood gaze evenly met his bespectacled ones- a slight show of mirth playing in them, tainted as well with a mildly growing irritation- she afforded a glance to Ron, who in his stead looked as if he were gloating; but it didn't help the fact that inwardly, she really had tried to be good that day.. but always.. it always turned to a bloody romp. She tousled her head to wake herself from her reverie..

She did have to say, though not aloud, that Harry Potter did grow up and fill out rather well. All those years of Quidditch had certainly done him good. Lending the athlete a healthy skin-tone. His hair once the bane of his existence, though still unruly, gave him an almost ruggedly debanaire appeal. Harry's form was exceptionally lean, liken to that of a tennis player's build. Compared to Ron's long frame. Young Weasley sprouted over the past few years, losing that baby fat that clung about his features. The freckles that once dotted over the expanse of his cheeks and nose had all but vanished. He too, noted Hermione had come unto his own, sculpting those muscles for use as Gryffindor's keeper. His build was a tad thicker than Harry's, but suited for its purposes. Some purporses- remained unmentioned, of course.

"Och! Didja 'ave t'go there Hermione? 'Earing that about my sister!" stated Ron in exasperation while poking his ears in vain. All before sniping his glance to Harry, "Oye- Just keep in mind, she's still my sister, one toe out of line, 'Arry..an', I'll be personally givin' y'what for." Harry in turn raised his hands to either side of his frame, but before he could offer any assurances, a set of waifish arms had snuck about Harry's waist. Garnering an arched brow from Ron. Ginny chimed in after pressing her lips to Harry's cheek, "Don't be daft Ron- Mr. Potter has been nothing but a gentleman.." grinning chesirely, "Course during the snogging tho—" With that, Ron bounded off after Hermione, who had by this time, made her subtle exit- not before exchanging a look of thanks with Ginny for the distraction.

"Now why'd you go and do that Gin?"

"because.. he's my brother."

"And..?"

"And what? I'm required to antagonize him, luv."

Harry eased himself about to face the girl and offered a sigh, "Gin.. they think we've.. you know.. done what they've done." Ginny Weasley offered a consolatory smile as she whisked her fingers through Harry's bangs.. shoving them from his eyes, "Then it's their problem. Harry-- it means more to me that you've respected my wishes then what everyone else may think. Let them. I know the truth." The deeply auburn tressed Gryffindor, gently tugged at Harry's hand, urging him to follow her through the hallowed Great Hall. "C'mon let's see if we can find my oversexed brother.. before he throws a coniption that his poppet escaped his grasp."