"Speech"
'Thoughts'
"French"
$Parseltongue$
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
SEVEN – A Helpful Hat
The air of anticipation in the great hall was almost palpable. The scattered candles and hanging torches that usually lit up the room were dimmed to allow the blue fire of the goblet to permeate the room. It felt eerie, cold, a strong contrast to the comfort the room always provided.
Harry was between Hermione and Ron, the presence of his friends a welcome warmth.
"Who do you think will get chosen, Krum probably?" asked Ron.
"I'd say it's between Angelina, Diggory, and Warrington for Hogwarts and definitely Fleur for Beauxbatons," answered Harry, glancing at Fleur over at the Ravenclaw table.
She must have felt him look her way, as she turned his way, meeting his eyes. He offered her an encouraging smile before Ron pulled his attention back.
"Be great if Angelina was chosen, would suck if we ended up with a Slytherin champion," said Ron, cringing at the thought.
"I wouldn't paint all Slytherins with the same brush, but I agree with Ron, Warrington is an ass," chimed in Hermione.
"Fingers crossed for Cedric or Angelina then," said Harry, giving Fleur one last look.
"Did you see what happened to Fred and George?" asked Ron, grinning at the memory.
"No, but I heard they tried to enter."
"You should have seen it man, it was bloody brilliant. They ended up with some pretty wicked grey beards. Wouldn't disappear for hours."
Harry and Hermione both laughed, "shame we missed it," said Harry.
Professor Dumbledore took to the stand with the foreign heads at his sides. The great hall stilled, waiting for him to speak.
"Any second now the Goblet of Fire will provide us with its selections."
"Good luck to all of you who entered."
It was as if the goblet was waiting for Dumbledore to speak, as its blue fire flared red before throwing out a piece of paper.
They held their breath in anticipation, waiting for the name that Dumbledore almost teasingly held back.
"For Durmstrang! Viktor Krum!"
Cheers broke out as the young man stood with a wide grin, more expression than Harry had seen before on the stoic seekers face. His friends clapped him on the back as he passed while the rest of the hall applauded.
At the front, Professor Dumbledore shook his hand and gave him the paper. "Congratulations, please head through the door and wait for us inside."
The excited murmurs were silenced by the second flare.
"For Beauxbatons! Fleur Delacour!"
Despite his fear for her safety, Harry cheered with the rest, smiling brightly when she looked their way. He saw the poised Fleur that stepped off the carriage the day before. She didn't show her excitement, or her trepidation. A small smile the only outward display of emotion as she walked forward.
She'd just stepped through the door when the third flare went off.
"For Hogwarts! Cedric Diggory!"
A final round of cheers, Harry had never seen one house that excited before. It was a shame Angelina didn't get chosen. She'd have been great, but Cedric's a nice guy who gets along well enough with most. Much rather him than Warrington.
"So Diggory it is then," said Ron.
"Looks like it, honestly, I'm just worried for Fleur. She's brilliant, but this tournament is dangerous…"
"I'm sure she'll be okay, and we'll be there to help her," said Hermione comfortingly, trying to convince herself.
"It's like you said Harry, she's brilliant right," said Ron patting him on the back.
Harry's response was cut off by a flash of red from the front. They looked over and saw a fourth piece of paper fall.
'A fourth?'
You could almost hear the crinkle of the paper in the stunned silence. Professor Dumbledore glanced upwards from the paper at Harry for a split second. That was enough for Harry to make the connection.
'Please no.'
His fears were made real when the headmaster's voice echoed through the Great Hall.
"Harry Potter!"
Ron and Hermione watched Harry's face blanch.
'I didn't enter.'
"Harry Potter! Please come forward!"
He turned to his friends. "Guys, I- I didn't."
"We know Harry, but you have to go up," said Hermione, worry in her voice.
"Harry Potter!"
Dumbledore called out his name a third time.
He stood and began walking. There was no applause, no cheering. Instead, he heard scattered complaints, and accusations.
The words, "cheater", and "too young", rang the clearest.
It felt as if he were the condemned man walking to the gallows, every step forward an effort. The great hall had never felt so large and yet so claustrophobic. Eventually he arrived before Professor Dumbledore, who simply handed him the piece of paper with a serious expression.
There it was, written clear as day. His name.
"I didn't ent-" he tried to say but was cut off.
"Through the door, we'll speak inside."
"Harry?" called Cedric, surprised to see him. His presence now noticed by the other two competitors. Fleur immediately noticed his troubled expression.
"Arry? Is something wrong? Did they send you to call us back?" she asked.
Fleur's voice snapped him out of his stunned state.
"No, Fleur. My name. It came out of th-"
The door burst open. Professor Dumbledore led the charge towards him, followed closely by the other two school heads, Professors McGonagall, Moody and Snape, as well as the two ministry employees.
The headmaster placed a firm hand on his shoulder, looking into his eyes. "Did you enter your name into the cup Harry?"
"No sir," he answered hurriedly.
"Did you ask someone else to enter your name for you?" continued Professor Dumbledore.
"No sir, I don't want to be a part of the tournament."
"The boy must be lying!" shouted Madame Maxime outraged.
"He lies!" bellowed Karkaroff.
"Mr. Potter does have a penchant for rule breaking and glory seeking," drawled Professor Snape in his usual sneer.
"Shut your mouth Severus, now is not the time for your pettiness," snapped Professor McGonagall.
Harry was shocked, he'd never seen his head of house speak like this. That she was doing it in his defence was warming to him.
He'd gotten much closer to the old Scotswoman, having met her for tea several times now. There was always a sternness to her, but he knew that beneath it all was a softie who cared more for her students than any teacher he'd ever come across in his life. He wouldn't let it fool him though, she was no weakling, pure Gryffindor through and through.
"Mr. Potter is not a liar, and if he says he didn't enter his name, then he damn well didn't. I have made the mistake of not believing him before, and I won't do so again," continued the proud Scottish woman.
Snape's rebuttal was cut off by Dumbledore. "Enough Severus, I didn't bring you in so that you could insult young Mr. Potter."
Professor Moody looked exceedingly smug at seeing Snape put down like this.
"Barty, what does the rules say? Is there an out?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
The ministry employee appeared worried. "There is nothing in the rules to accommodate a participant that was entered against his will, and there's no precedent to follow either. His name was chosen, therefore he must compete. The rules are clear there."
"So, Hogwarts gets two champions!" exclaimed Madame Maxime upset at the apparent unfairness.
"Submit the names again, Durmstrang must have a second as well if this is so," said Karkaroff.
"It can't be done, the goblets fire has already gone out, it cannot be relit until the next tournament."
"You are all forgetting the most important part about tonight," said Moody.
Everyone turned to the scarred man, waiting for him to continue.
"A fourth name was selected in a three-participant contest. Had Mr. Potter simply submitted his name. He would have been chosen as Hogwarts sole champion. The fact that four champions were selected, means that someone has messed with the goblet. Magic far beyond the capabilities of a student!"
"And if anyone should be outraged, it isn't you two old fools, it's Potter!"
"Why should the boy complain!?" shouted Karkaroff, "he gets to be champion."
"People die in this tournament Karkaroff! Someone wants the boy dead!"
"ENOUGH!" shouted Professor Dumbledore, silencing the pair.
"Alastor is right, a fourth champion is serious cause for alarm, and I assure you, we will be investigating this," said Headmaster Dumbledore with a look towards Barty Crouch, who nodded his agreement.
"The Department of Magical Law Enforcement will be informed," said the ministry representative.
"For now, unfortunately, Mr. Potter must compete. Regardless of how his name came to be in the cup, and I do not believe he entered it or was party to its submittance."
The other ministry employee, Bagman, wisely kept his mouth shout, even though he was ecstatic at the idea of a fourth champion.
While the heads and ministry employees argued and discussed his entrance. Harry had been dragged to the back by Fleur.
"Are you alright 'Arry, your name, zey say it 'as been chosen, zat you must compete?" asked Fleur worriedly.
"Y-yeah, I didn't enter, please believe me Fleur," he said holding up the piece of paper with his name on.
"I believe you 'Arry, you did not want to be a part, I know zis."
Relief flooded him, the weight pressing on his shoulders was lifted ever so slightly, the evening becoming more bearable.
The pair were joined by the other two champions who made their way over.
"Harry? What happened?" asked Cedric.
"I don't know, my name just came out of the cup…"
Cedric gaped before laughing, surprising the three. At their looks, he explained. "From what I've heard Harry, nothing ever stays boring around you."
Harry gave a self-deprecating laugh. "I wouldn't mind boring you know…"
Viktor chose that moment to speak up. "Harry Potter, I have heard much of you, from students in green-"
Harry was about to reply, before Viktor quickly continued, "-I am not fool, the ones who spoke are, how you say, bigots, their words worthless. I give you benefit of doubt."
"Thanks, I appreciate it."
"By the way Harry, how do the two of you know each other?" asked Cedric, gesturing between Harry and Fleur.
It was Fleur who answered, with a warm smile towards Harry. "Arry saved my life, and my sister, at the world cup."
Harry blushed at their wide-eyed gaze.
"The attack after finals?" asked Viktor.
"Oui, I was caught, but 'Arry and his friends saved me."
"Perhaps, goblet smarter than we think," said Viktor, giving Harry an appraising look.
"Definitely," agreed Cedric. "I wouldn't underestimate Harry. I've heard the rumours and I'm sure there's a lot more truth to them than everyone thinks. If there is a single student in this school I wouldn't want to compete against. It's Harry…."
At the surprised and confused looks both Fleur and Viktor gave him, he continued. "Let's just say things can get pretty exciting and pretty dangerous at Hogwarts, and each time it was resolved practically overnight, and all we got was a bunch of rumours along with Harry here in the hospital wing. Now I never put much thought into it, until last year when a bunch Slytherins tried to cause a scene by dressing as dementors and running onto the quidditch field midgame. Harry here, pulled out his wand and fired off a fully corporal Patronus…"
Fleur and Viktor were stunned. Where Viktor knew nothing about Harry other than the mistruths fed to him by the Slytherin students. Fleur had an idea about Harry's talent, but even so. A corporal Patronus at thirteen was incredible.
"Zis is true 'Arry? You must show me. I 'ave tried before but cannot get more than mist…"
"Me as well please," asked Viktor. "Have not seen real Patronus before."
"Uhh sure," said Harry, surprised at the direction the conversation has gone.
Though he never liked being spoken of, Cedric's delving had helped settle his nerves. Whether that was the older boy's intent or not. Harry was thankful regardless.
"Sounds like you have to compete Harry," said Cedric, listening to the headmasters and ministry workers discuss it.
"I expected as much…" he sighed.
"I'm already stretched so thinly… I was honestly just planning to help Fleur with the tournament," said Harry, glancing at Fleur who smiled at him.
"Oh yes, I heard about that, healer training, right?" asked the Hufflepuff.
"Yeah… Madam Pomfrey took me on as an apprentice."
"You plan to become healer? This is good profession," said Viktor with an approving nod.
Harry took a deep breath. "Have to focus on the tournament now, Hermione did some research on it when it was first announced. Dumbledore wasn't bluffing when he spoke about the danger… Manticores, cockatrices… The last tournament cost the lives of all three champions and a portion of the audience."
The other three paled at his words.
"Just focus on surviving, forget the glory crap they're all going on about. What glory… Nobody knows the names of anyone who's ever even won the thing."
"Arry is right, even if we compete, we make sure each other makes it through this alive."
"Headmaster Karkaroff wanted me to enter tournament. He wants me to win, but I do not need this. I will help if needed," said Viktor, as Cedric nodded.
"So will I," added the Hufflepuff.
"Mr. Potter," called Professor Dumbledore from across the room.
"Yes, sir?" asked Harry heading back over, the other three champions behind him.
"I'm sorry, but unfortunately you will have to compete. The risks in trying to find a way out are too high. Were we to attempt to break the contract, the consequences to your magic and more so, to your life could be severe."
Harry took a deep breath, sighing, "I understand Professor." It wasn't anything more than he already expected. He wasn't so lucky that there would simply be an out.
'And Halloween strikes again...' he thought.
Professor Dumbledore eyed the four contestants, "now as champions, the four of you have the leeway to excuse yourself from lessons and exams, this includes the young Ms. Delacour and Mr. Krum-" Madame Maxime and Karkaroff nodded their agreements, "-please attend as many classes as you are able to though. The library's restricted section will also be made available for your perusal."
"Thank you, Professor," said Harry as the others offered their thanks as well.
Dumbledore gave them an encouraging smile, "Now for the first task, it will take place on the 24th of November. Courage in the face of the unknown, that is all I can say regarding it."
Harry really did not like the idea of going into a dangerous task without so much as a clue, and from the way the other three tensed, none of them liked it either.
"That is all from us, I believe we can depart from here. I am sure your friends are eagerly awaiting your company…"
The group slowly made their way out of the antechamber.
"Harry stay behind please," said Professor Dumbledore.
The young Potter turned to face Fleur, who gave him a hug before she had to leave with her headmistress.
"I will see you tomorrow 'Arry, we will get through this," said the French veela.
Harry hugged her back tightly. "We will, and Hermione will be there to help us."
Madame Maxime did not look too thrilled about their hug, but let it slide, being aware of the events that took place during the summer.
"You should get going before your headmistresses turns me into a gerbil," said Harry jokingly.
Fleur hid her laugh in his shoulder. "Non gerbil 'Arry, but you are right."
They let go of each other.
"À bientôt 'Arry, until tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow, Fleur."
He waved goodbye to Cedric who followed the others out of the room.
"Follow me Harry," said Dumbledore.
"Lemon drop?" asked the old man as he popped one in his mouth.
"No thanks sir," said Harry, turning down the offer.
"I find sweets help me think, and when you get as old as I am, any help is welcome."
"I don't think Hermione would like it if I turned to sugar to help me focus," laughed Harry.
"Ah yes, dentists. A noble calling."
"Now Harry, the reason I called you here. You must know that I believe Alastor is right. Your name coming out of the cup is very serious. This is the latest in a troubling series of events. The dark mark at the world cup, the disappearance of a ministry worker that had knowledge of the tournament, and now this…"
"In the words of a man I had the fortune to meet quite a few years ago, "once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is enemy action."
Harry took in the man's words, he had no illusions regarding the seriousness of the situation he now found himself in.
"I'll make it through this Professor. I'm not alone."
"Right, you are Harry, now I can't assist you regarding the tournament. The rules prevent this, but remember as I said before."
The young man looked up, meeting the headmaster's eyes.
"Help will always be given at Hogwarts, to those who ask for it," said the old man motioning with his eyes towards the sorting hat. A sly look on his face.
"Oh, dearie me, I need to use a restroom urgently. Please close the door on your way out Harry," said Professor Dumbledore, quickly rushing out of the room.
The headmaster's sudden departure was an odd turn of events that had him sat there confused, before he remembered the way the Professor had tried to draw his attention.
Harry looked up at the sorting hat.
"Uhh, help?"
"Mr. Potter. More dangerous situations again I see. I can't help you with that, but… I do know that the headmaster has an old notebook that could help, and I know he keeps it on the left end of the second last row from the bottom on that bookshelf over there by the cabinet. I also know that he won't notice if it's missing."
Harry eyed the bookshelf before he noticed the gazes of the portraits in the room.
"I also know the old fools in those portraits won't say a word, lest I begin practicing next year's song…"
The young man smirked as the sorting hat performed an exaggerated winking motion.
Harry quickly located the notebook on the shelf before thanking the sorting hat.
"Good luck Mr. Potter, do an old hat a favour…"
At his questioning look, the hat continued.
"Win the damn thing… I saw you kill Salazar's pet with Godric's stupid letter opener, show them what you're made of."
"You know what, I think I will."
Harry half expected to see the common room full, but his detour to Professor Dumbledore's office was a lot more time consuming than he'd expected.
The only one waiting for him was Hermione who barrelled into him the second he stepped through.
"What did they say!? Do you have to compete!?"
He hugged her, breathing in her scent, "there's no way out, and Professor Dumbledore won't risk doing something to break the contract in case it backfires."
"Oh Harry…" sniffed Hermione, "can't you get one quiet year…"
"Story of my life…"
It was a few seconds later when she finally let go of him.
"What's that?" she asked, eyeing the book in his hand.
Harry smirked, recalling the meeting in Dumbledore's office, and the sorting hats help.
At first, she appeared horrified that he had stolen from the headmaster, but calmed down when she realized that the Professor probably intended for the hat to help him somehow.
"We can go through it together, I glanced inside while I walked over. It looks like spells mostly" said Harry, "I'm going to share it with Fleur."
"Good idea," responded Hermione, "she's in this as well, and I'm not losing either of you to a stupid blood sport."
He pulled her into another hug. "Thank you Hermione," said Harry gently.
"What for Harry?" asked the bookworm softly.
"Nothing, just being there."
"Always Harry," said Hermione, squeezing him back.
"We should head up," he sighed, "it's been a long night and we'll probably have as long of a day tomorrow as well… I hope Ron is still awake."
"He might be, it's been at least a half hour since he went upstairs though."
Harry took a deep breath, releasing her from the hug so they could make their way to the staircase.
"Meet me down here in the morning?" he asked.
"Mhm, goodnight, Harry."
"Goodnight, Hermione," replied Harry, feeling confident about his prospects.
Harry was glad to find Ron awake, but it was quite a surprise to find him sitting with one of his healer's books in hand.
His redheaded friend spoke up before Harry had the chance to.
"I was mad you know… Fuming actually…"
Harry took a seat on his own bed, facing Ron who hadn't looked up from the book since.
"I think… I was jealous. I thought you'd found a way to enter and didn't share it."
He opened his mouth to retort before Ron cut him off.
"-I know you said you didn't… At the table. But I was so mad— I thought, Harry gets everything… gold, gets to be seeker… fame— and now a pretty veela girl…"
"Fleur isn't mi-" said Harry trying to interject.
"-But then I got up here. Saw this book on your bed," said Ron, holding up the book in his hands.
"I went through it a bit, realised how advanced the stuff is…"
"It was a wakeup call I guess," chuckled Ron sadly.
"You've been working your ass off for this healer thing. I don't think even Percy worked nearly as hard when he was doing his newts. I thought, no way he would want to waste time with the tournament. Not with the way you've been going this year."
"You really want it don't you, being a healer I mean," said Ron, meeting his eyes.
Harry just sat there listening to Ron, he'd never seen his friend like this.
"Yeah…"
"I'm sorry Harry, for thinking you'd entered… And for thinking you'd have kept that from me."
"It's alright Ron, and thanks…"
Ron smiled before his eyes widened. He dropped the book before quickly opening his bedside drawer and fishing out a piece of parchment.
"That's why…" said the redhead softly, reading the parchment.
"What's going on?" asked Harry at Ron's sudden behaviour.
"Dad sent a letter that I got today. He mentioned that Charlie's going to be in the country for some work stuff. Ministry related work stuff," said Ron fearfully.
"Charlie? Your brother?"
"Yes Harry… My brother. The one who works on a dragon reserve…"
"What does that have… Oh."
"Dragons… The first task is dragons…" whispered Harry.
"They're bleeding mad..." said Ron, afraid for his best mate.
"Fleur," said Harry suddenly, moving quickly towards the door. "She needs to know."
"Harry!" exclaimed Ron, grabbing his arm and pulling him back.
"You can tell her tomorrow," said Ron, his hands on Harry's shoulders.
He took a deep breath and calmed down, "yeah… You're right…It can wait until tomorrow."
"I know a bit about dragons, can't not, it's the only thing Charlie ever talks about," said Ron.
Harry recalled how Ron immediately recognized Norbert's breed despite it being an infant back in first year and had to agree. His friend was surprisingly knowledgeable on the topic.
"Thanks Ron…"
"Welcome mate."
"DRAGONS!?" exclaimed Hermione, outraged at the sheer stupidity of the tournament organizers.
"Putain! Merde! Fils de pute!" cursed Fleur with an increasingly vulgar string of French that had Hermione stunned.
They had met with Fleur outside the carriage before walking to a secluded spot beside the great lake.
"Yeah… Dragons… I think Ron's right, there's no other reason Charlie would be in the country for work. It's too much of a coincidence."
"From what I've read about previous tournaments. The first task does usually involve a magical creature. Though the contestants aren't always expected to fight it. It's more common that they have to get past it, or retrieve something that it's protecting," said Hermione, recalling her research on the topic.
The three looked at her. "That is somewhat of a relief I guess…" said Harry.
"Oui…"
Ron chose that moment to speak up, looking everywhere but at Fleur.
"I know the reserve that Charlie works at only has a few dragon breeds. You can't keep too many in one place or there'll be non-stop territory fights. They've got Welsh Greens, Chinese Firebolts, Swedish Shortsnout's, Norwegian Ridgeback's, and Hungarian Horntail's mostly," said Ron, counting them off on his fingers as he went on.
"There are some Ukrainian Ironbelly's, and a small handful of Antipodean Opaleye's, but there's no chance they'd use an Opaleye, they're highly endangered. It's a shame too, since they're probably the least dangerous of the lot."
"The ones you need to watch out for most are the Ridgebacks, Horntails, and Ironbelly's. Those are bloody mean. Horntails are the worst, they're massive and they've got a spiked tail that they swing around."
"Brilliant…" interjected Harry sarcastically.
"Lots of people think dragons are stupid. They aren't, also their hides are tough as hell and very resistant to magic. Some breeds have more weak spots than others. The eyes are for all of them, and the inside of their mouths... The snout on the Swedish dragons is a bit weaker than the rest of it, and area just around the hard bellies on the Ukrainian dragons are softer. There's more, but that's what I can remember off the top of my head.
"Thanks Ron, I guess we ought to begin researching dragons…" replied Harry.
"Oui, we can check library," said Fleur to which Hermione nodded enthusiastically.
"You three ought to speak to Hagrid too, Harry," said Ron.
"Brilliant Ron," exclaimed Harry before turning to Fleur, "Hagrid is the big guy who helped with your carriage. He's the care of magical creatures professor and he loves dragons, even tried to raise one."
"Is he able to help though?" asked Hermione. "The rules?"
"It shouldn't be an issue, we don't have to explain why we're asking. Just get him to speak about dragons."
"This would be alright 'Ermione," said Fleur.
"I'll tell Cedric and Viktor about them as well," said Harry, "I know there's a chance we could be wrong about this, but it's better than doing nothing."
"Mhm, that is fair 'Arry," responded Fleur.
"Oh! I also have this," said Harry, taking out the book he'd gotten from Dumbledore's office and recounting the story to Fleur and Ron.
Fleur found it hilarious and the headmasters roundabout way of helping rather adorable. While Ron stared at the book in awe, a look he's never given a book before.
"Blimey Harry, you stole from Dumbledore…"
"Let's say I am borrowing it," defended Harry.
"Well… what's in it?" asked Ron.
"Spells mostly, some magical theory stuff. I skimmed through it this morning. There are some seriously dangerous looking ones in here. The blow up your living room and the neighbours living room sort…"
"Can I see?" asked Fleur, curious.
"Of course," said Harry, handing the book to her.
"Merci 'Arry."
She flipped through the book, Hermione leaning in closely against her to see inside. Their eyes widening on occasion. "This is exquise 'Arry," said Fleur.
"These are some very, very dangerous looking spells Harry, difficult as well," said Hermione concerned.
"I think we'll need all the help we can get, especially if they're going to be throwing dragons at us."
"Maybe we should ask Snuffles for some advice as well?" she added.
"Snuffles?" asked Fleur incredulously. "You know someone named Snuffles?"
Harry chuckled. "His name isn't really Snuffles," he began before explaining, trusting her to keep the secret.
"Wait! You are saying, Sirius Black, is innocent!?" replied Fleur.
"That's right, but Fudge, the fool, refused to believe us. Snape, you remember him? The greasy one who got yelled at by Professor McGonagall last night."
"Professor Snape, Harry," corrected Hermione almost out of reflex.
"Non 'Ermione, the man is a cochon," interject Fleur.
"But continue 'Arry, s'il te plait."
"When we tried to explain Sirius's innocence. Snape got Fudge to believe we were confounded, and that our word couldn't be trusted. He hates Sirius over some school time stuff."
"And this petty man is supposed to be a teacher," said Fleur, "e is a cochon."
Harry chuckled at Hermione trying to hide her smile from Fleur. He knew that despite her respect for authority figures, she disliked Snape as much as he did.
"Arry I can ask my père if 'e could 'elp? 'e is a diplomat. I am sure if it is possible, 'e will do it. France could give 'im asylum maybe?"
He thought back, remembering her father from that night.
"I think, if Sirius is alright with it. We could try." Even if the chance was slim, it was better than no chance. He couldn't help but feel hopeful at the possibility.
"This is great Harry. If he is able to prove his innocence in a French court, they could take it to the ICW. There would be a chance he'd be exonerated in England as well," added Hermione excitedly.
"Thank you, Fleur, I'll ask him when I write to him," said Harry gratefully.
They were interrupted by a growl. Locating the source, they turned towards Ron who was as red as his hair.
"What!? We haven't eaten breakfast yet! You needed to tell her about the dragons so badly that you made us go right past the great hall!"
It was Harry's turn to blush as Fleur fixed him with a piercing gaze while Hermione smirked, which only worsened when the pretty veela pecked him on the cheek.
"Merci 'Arry."
Fighting to get his blush under control, "we can get something in the hospital wing. I need to speak to Madam Pomfrey anyway…" said an embarrassed Harry, standing and walking past them all.
The girls laughed, as the group made their way towards the castle. Ron hurrying up ahead with Harry, his stomach all the motivation he needed, while Hermione trailed behind with Fleur.
"He really is worrywart, isn't he?"
"Mhm, but so are you 'Ermione," replied Fleur teasingly.
"I have no idea what you're speaking about," defended Hermione, speeding up her pace as Fleur hid her laugh behind a hand.
'Non, certainly not,' thought Fleur, catching up with her.
"Wait for me 'Ermione."
END CHAPTER SEVEN
Authors Note: The quote from Dumbledore comes from Ian Fleming.