Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Title: Harry Potter and the Flaming Soul(Unfortunately, I have no title-writing skills, sorry about that.)
Rating: M (Just to be on the safe side because there are some slightly Mature themes)
Summary: Book 7 as I see it, with a twist: there are more perspectives than just Harry's
A/N: Okay, this would be Chapter 2. Have you made it this far? I have some really cool ideas that will take some time to work in, so bear with me. Pur-lease review. I like feedback on my stuff. Also, I am considering staff for my new C2. More about that later, though, for now R&R.
Harry awoke with a start, sweat dripping from his brow. For several seconds, he couldn't tell where he was, but as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw a mane of bushy hair above him on the bed and a general orange haze from Ron's walls. He tried to remember the dream. He had not been in Voldemort's mind, hen knew that much, but he distinctly remembered Snape's looming face. Harry's blood boiled at the thought of Snape, but as the dream dissipated, so did his rage.
He turned to the bed and watched the rise and fall of the orange comforter as Hermione slept. Harry smiled – it seemed funny that Mrs. Weasley had allowed the three of them to sleep in the same room. However, he thought, she has been pretty frazzled lately. Harry contemplated on his new relationship with Hermione for a moment. He knew that their romance had ended with Hermione's departure from Godric's Hollow, but he couldn't simply place himself in a role of friend with her. He decided it was best that he ignored his feelings for both Hermione and Ginny until he had decided what path he would take.
It had seemed so simple to go to Godric's Hollow and train for his imminent departure, but finding and destroying horcruxes was another matter. He felt lost without Ron's support and Hermione's smarts, but he had decided that he wasn't willing to risk them. Somehow, everything that he had felt in the past two months had compounded into anxiety over the fake horcrux and finding R.A.B. Harry sighed, deciding that he had worried enough for the night. With that, he rolled over, intending to go back to sleep, but something was wrong. There was no flaming bed-head sticking out of the sleeping bag beside him.
Harry carefully stood, trying not to rustle his sleeping bag. He crept out of the room, and found Ron sitting on the stairs outside the door.
"Hey," Harry said. Ron jumped, but looked too expectant to be bothered. He nodded his head slowly to acknowledge Harry.
"What's wrong, mate?" Harry asked, sitting beside Ron on the step. Ron looked at him wearily. His face was pale and slightly green. His eyebrows were raised in a look of extreme distress, and he had a guilty look in his eyes.
"I… Harry… I'm… waiting up for Fleur," he admitted. Harry was thrown into bewilderment.
"Fleur?" he said incredulously, "What do you mean?" Harry asked.
Ron sighed, "She just… puts a spell on me, you know." Harry looked sympathetically at his best friend, hoping Ron hadn't followed through on his feelings for Fleur. Harry was lost in thought, remembering Stan Shunpike's bragging that he was the future Minister of Magic to a veela in the forest at the quidditch world cup.
Ron filled the awkward void between them by explaining Fleur's absence, "… so she's been going in between the Leaky Cauldron and Gringott's and here… mum's been nutty with her – they bonded over Bill, y'know – and we still dunno when the wedding's gonna be."
Harry nodded and said, "So… you've just…" he dawdled purposely, not wanting to ask the question in his mind. He wondered what would happen if Fleur had allowed any advances on Ron's part.
He decided to be blunt, "But… but you haven't done anything with-" Harry stopped cautiously, observing the look on Ron's face. Hermione had problems enough with her relationship with Ron because of Harry. He tried to hide his guilt, and hoped Ron would never find out that Harry had had a romantic relationship with Hermione. He imagined Ron's reaction to finding out, and he thought there would be a few jinxes involved.
Ron looked horrified, and answered, "I just… don't think it's right for me to wait up to hear her voice… when… when I'm Hermione's –" he stopped, embarrassed, not wanting to say the next word.
Harry interrupted Ron with a relieved laugh, Ron was only feeling guilty because he had a crush. He considered for a moment before exclaiming, "Don't worry about it, she's a veela! Who could resist her?" Ron looked doubtful, so Harry added, "And I know that Hermione really lov-" Harry stopped. He was going to say 'love's you,' but reconsidered, thinking of the expression on Hermione's face had she known.
"She wouldn't really care much," Harry finished, hoping he had convinced Ron.
To his relief, Ron smiled and nodded slowly, "Yeah. Who would mind when they've got this?" he jabbed his thumbs toward his chest.
Harry grinned automatically at Ron's inflated ego, stood, and grabbed Ron by the arms, roughly pulling him up. "C'mon Ron, let's go to bed – your girlfriend's in that room, y'know."
The next morning Fleur pranced into the room in her usual form, drawing the curtains with relish.
"Eet eez a beautiful morneen," she smiled at the room in general, saying, "Eet eez ze most beautiful… how you say? … Ah yes, garden for ze wedding reception!"
Ron grinned timidly and Hermione groaned. Fleur stood at the window, her plaited blond hair glimmering in the morning light. She seemed misled as to where Ron was staring, because she beamed at him, flipped her hair, and said, "You like zis…? Your muzzer did zis for me…"
Ginny poked her head in the door, her hair swinging and catching in the door hinge.
"Hey – oowww!" she screamed, trying to pull her hair out. Fleur ran to Ginny, pulling her hair ruthlessly.
"Oooww! Ooow! Stop! Stop it! STOP HELPING!" she screamed, pushing Fleur out of the way roughly and slipping her hair out of the hinge with dexterous hands. Fleur didn't seem very bothered, however, as she continued to bound about. Ginny rolled her eyes at Harry and made a rude gesture as her mother walked in.
"Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley squealed, appalled. She gave Ginny a threatening glance, then turned to Fleur.
"Fleur, don't mind Ginny, she's just…" she threw a look of disdain at Ginny, and strolled to Fleur, changing the topic, "Anyway, have we finally decided on next Tuesday? I found some lovely things in the attic that we could use to spruce up the garden a bit!"
She began stroking Fleur's plait absentmindedly, intermittently describing ornaments to add to the garden for the wedding.
Fleur turned to Mrs. Weasley, seeming mildly surprised. "Ze wedding will be here?" she asked, disbelieving.
Mrs. Weasley looked taken aback, "But… but, I thought…" she stuttered.
Fleur put her hands on her hips in a very Mrs. Weasley-ish way, and pronounced, "Ze wedding will be at my home, Bill and I have decided – eet eez tradition!"
Mrs. Weasley seemed very affronted, but simply asked, "But… what about our garden? Our plans?"
Fleur looked disapprovingly at the scruffy garden below. "As eef I would want my wedding here! Eet eez so messy!" Hermione and Ginny had matching sour frowns.
Ginny whispered all to loudly, "I liked it better when mum hated phlegm."
Mrs. Weasley turned a brilliant shade of magenta and bustled out of the room, grabbing the hamper and spewing dirty laundry across the floor.
Fleur smiled, unaware of the conflict she had just incited.
Ginny growled, "Was there something you wanted, Ph- Fleur?'
Fleur turned to Ginny and gushed, "Ah yes, I have been wanting to tell you all, eet eez wonderful to be here with you – and 'Arry eez een such fine shape, Garbrielle will be so pleased."
She swooped down on Ginny, planting a light kiss on her cheek, which Ginny promptly wiped off with her forearm. Harry blushed, but before he could stop her, Fleur swept him into a tight hug and kissed him as well. She left the room with her arms aloft, looking ridiculously like an albino phoenix attempting to take off.
Ron's head hung limply, but he quickly looked back up as Hermione tutted, "I suppose you wished I did that?"
Ron looked confused, so Hermione elaborated, "I expect you don't think that I hope someday to look like a blond hippogriff with a flying problem…" Harry laughed despite himself and Ginny chuckled.
Harry whipped his eyes to Ginny, desire burning in his chest. Take her, the beast in his chest purred, it will be fine, now you have experience. He resisted the impulse to grab her around the waist and turned his attention to Hermione.
"Look, Hermione, you don't get it – veela are… well, they're…" Try though he might, he couldn't describe the magic that veela held.
"Objects of desire? Lust…? What is it Harry, which turns men into a puddle of drool when a pretty girl walks in the room? Sometimes you guys are such a jerks," she turned to Ginny, who shook her head and added, "Men."
Harry forgot himself over the next few days. Being at the Burrow lifted all his worries. He seemed almost okay with Dumbledore's death and the task ahead. He spent much of his time in the village with the twins and Ron, scoping out the local girls. He found that he got more attention than he had expected, resulting in Ron keeping a constant stream of comments as to how he needed to bulk up like Harry. Harry was grateful for the opportunity to get out, but felt guilty, knowing he was doing something he had been strictly forbidden to do last year by Dumbledore.
On one particular occasion, Harry found himself in a deep conversation with a pretty blonde girl by the name of Dalia who worked at the flower shop. Fred and George were busy in the local magic shop showing off their 'special skills', and Ron had stopped at the pub to pick up drinks for everyone.
"Oh, Harry, I've never met a boy quite like you – you're so different!" Dalia gushed.
Harry smiled, "I don't know, sometimes it would be nice to be the same."
"No, it's wonderful that you're so different, it's… exciting, especially for a small-town girl like me." She added with faint regret in her voice.
He felt self-conscious, not knowing how to handle her open flattery and full attention. Girls were always a mystery to Harry. He grinned at her and realized how wonderful it was to not be identified as 'the boy who lived' or 'the chosen one'. With this naive muggle girl, Harry was just Harry.
"Well, sometimes it's a pain to be different, it would be nice to not be recognized as special, but I guess it comes with the job."
He realized that she was staring at him, and hadn't really registered what he had said. He stood for a moment, enjoying the sycophancy.
Suddenly, Harry was aware of his sneakascope, which was whirling in his pocket and whistling faintly despite his attempts to muffle the sound. Dalia was looking curiously at his coat pocket where the sneakascope was concealed. Harry panicked. What could he do, under the nose of this muggle, to defend himself? To his relief, Fred and George walked in holding trick cans of nuts. Harry smirked, deciding to play into their plan.
George held out the can and asked casually, "Would you like some walnuts, Harry?"
"Sure, George," he responded, opening the can with a grin.
To his surprise, the spring snakes inside were a little more lively than the traditional muggle joke. They shot out of the can and bounced off the walls for a full minute before they dropped to the floor.
A look of shock registered on Dalia's face. "How did you do that… it's almost like –"
"… Magic?" Fred volunteered, chuckling under his breath.
"Yeah…" she responded.
"Well, you can keep this one," Fred answered her awed reaction, tossing her the can he held in his hand, "C'mon, Harry, we've got to meet Ron, I don't think it takes to long to pick up drinks." He winked at Dalia and Harry gave her a passing smile as they ambled out the door.
The knut clinked lightly as it dropped onto the stone floor of the Weasley's kitchen. Harry flicked his wand absentmindedly and the knut flipped again. Bill sat across the table from Ron and Harry, poring over The Daily Prophet.
"Hmm, possible Death Eater sightings in London… Draco, I presume."
Harry awoke from his reverie, "Draco Malfoy? I thought he'd be dead by now," he said maliciously.
Bill folded the paper and looked acutely at Harry. "Well, we no longer have spies in You-Know-Who's inner circle, but it's fair to assume that You-Know-Who would keep Draco around at least until Lucius has returned to him – we think that he has given him an assignment with Fenrir Greyback," Bill snarled the name of his attacker, further disfiguring his scarred face, "Lupin has seen him."
Harry smiled, thinking of a disheveled Malfoy sitting underground with the repulsive werewolf. He remembered Malfoy's distaste for the putrid man; he had said that he had arrived uninvited the night of Dumbledore's death. Harry noticed with some surprise that he had not been as disturbed this time by his own thoughts of that night.
Ron interrupted Harry's thoughts, asking, "Why would You-Know-Who keep Malfoy around, waiting for his father?"
"To do something horrible to the both of them, I think. Anyway, enough of this, this will be my only vacation from this all for a long time – I leave on Wednesday with Fleur," Bill retorted.
Harry smirked, "No Honeymoon?" he asked sarcastically.
Bill sighed audibly, "No Honeymoon."
Bill looked sorrowful for a moment, stroking his dragon-fang earring thoughtfully. His face was heavily scarred, but Harry thought he had come out looking pretty good for someone who was attacked by a werewolf. His nose was snout-like, but intact, as were his eyes. The deepest gash cut his face into two distinct parts, and ran from his right ear to the bottom of his left cheek, leaving a split bottom lip in its wake. Bill's forehead and cheeks were covered in grazes, but they didn't deter from the handsome smile he flashed at Fleur as she glided into the room.
Bill turned so Fleur could sit in his lap, and she ran her delicate fingers through his hair. Harry turned to Ron to find him looking sickly green.
Harry suppressed a snort, and Fleur asked, "Zat School of yours –Hogwartz – eez it open for zis semester?"
To Harry's surprise, Ron swallowed heavily and answered, "McGonagall has opened it, yeah." He lost his nerve and began to address Bill instead, "We didn't think she would, but y'know, Hogwarts always seems open – I dunno how she found teachers, though – Slughorn bailed as soon as he could," then he added bitingly, "and obviously we got rid of Snape."
Bill nodded and said, "Yeah, I figured McGonagall might open Hogwarts up again – she's a tough old broad." He looked inquisitively at Harry, saying, "But you're not going back, are you? Dad told me about your plans."
Harry nodded, but before he could reply, Ron added, "Yeah, and the idiot won't let Hermione or me come along. I never did get that one, Harry." Harry felt affronted.
Bill said wisely, "Don't bug him to much, lil' bro, it is his battle to fight."
Harry gave Bill a grateful nod of acknowledgement, and turned to Ron. "I don't know why you and Hermione have to go on like that… it's just, I can't be responsible for anyone else's," he paused awkwardly, "– deaths."
Ron looked rather mournful at Harry's reaction, as though he expected it but hoped it wouldn't come. "I dunno, Harry, Hermione keeps saying that's what you want, but I don't think it's right. I'm your best mate, and I can't let you chase Vo-… You-Know-Who alone!" he said very quickly.
Bill smiled knowingly and pulled Fleur into the sitting room, giving her soft kisses on her forehead as they sat down out of earshot.
Harry was frustrated with Ron, but not very surprised. He looked at the stagnant frown on Ron's freckled face, and sighed, trying to control his anger. "Look, Ron, you've got to know that there's a good chance you could die out there – and I can't deal with that. Besides, you and Hermione can't get jobs after… after… I do what I'm going to… on being my friend alone. I know you helped me enough times to be important, but next to me, well… it'd be hard to compete with 'the boy who killed' or whatever the idiots at the Daily Prophet are calling me now."
Unfortunately, Harry's speech did not have the intended effect on Ron. He was positively red in the face, and he seemed to be holding back his fury despite his screaming, "YEAH, I BET IT WILL BE HARD TO COMPETE, CUZ IT'S NOT LIKE I'VE DONE ANYTHING TO HELP YOU EVER! YOU JUST DON'T WANT ME STEALING YOUR THUNDER, IS THAT IT?"
Harry could no longer hold back, "OH YEAH, RON, IT'S NOT THAT I DON'T WANT YOU TO DIE, I JUST WANT TO BE KNOWN FOR BEING AN ORPHAN WHO HAD TO SEE AND DO HORRIBLE THINGS! DO YOU THINK I WANT TO BE A MURDERER? I'M JUST SO EXCITED THAT I GET TO TRY TO DESTROY THE MOST POWERFUL WIZARD IN THE WORLD AND HIS LACKEYS!" Harry panted, he had wanted to say it for so long, but it was hard to make it all come out. He was terrified by the idea of having to kill Voldemort.
Ron looked furious, but he didn't continue to yell. He stood suddenly and slammed his chair under the table. He turned and stormed up the stairs, slapping the walls as he climbed.
Bill strolled into the kitchen. "I think you could have handled that better, Harry," he said.
Harry's anger was building again, but he glimpsed the bemused smile on Bill's face. He smiled back, slightly embarrassed at his inability to curb his outbreak.
Fleur entered the room with an out-of-place grin on her face. "Well, zat was strange, I have never zeen Harry Potter angry. Perhaps you should apologize to your… Weasley," she cooed and grabbed Bill forcefully, though he didn't seem very upset.
Ginny poked her head around the corner, "Had a fight, Harry?"
Harry was too busy fighting down both his desire for Ginny and his anger at being made fun of to respond.
Bill answered for Harry, "Yeah, but our brother will survive the wrath of 'the chosen one' for now…"
Harry turned, wondering if Bill suspected that he was the chosen one. His suspicions were dismissed, though, because he heard Bill mutter, "… load of baloney if you ask me…"
A/N: Okay, I'm starting a C2, so I have to build up a base of stories, but just so you can be considering it- I'm looking for HP purists (see my prof.). But that may be a long time coming, so just think about it. And Please Review. Thanks and lurvs to all of ya.