Welcome to the latest chapter, really hope you enjoy it. As always thanks go to my beta readers, a true delight to work with, as always. Even if they get angry at my sentence structure... x102reddragon, Djkopper, gamer0890, Thanos, Liberty1prime. Y'all'r incredible.
Chapter 7 - Of Gobstones and Grims
The morning dawned bright and clear; Fleur had hardly seen the sun over the past few months, let alone this much blue sky. Winter in the Scottish highlands was a harsh change from home, though she couldn't complain too much, things weren't all bad. Her egg lay solved and her plan was fully formed. Her love life had even taken a shocking upturn, Harry Potter turned out to be a startlingly acceptable option, even if it couldn't last.
At worst she would have a story for years to come, taking Harry Potter's first kiss was hardly a small matter. There was more to it than that — this might just be her last shot of making these fun childish memories. The looming threat of the tournament grew with each passing week, and the threat of her mother never halted, even graduation would be little reprieve.
Expectations her mother thrust upon her haunting tones, of her duty to their species, and Fleur's need to find a mate. She could happily burn them all to the ground, expectations or Veela — it didn't matter. The flimsy justifications thrown at her were insulting, especially considering where, or rather, who they came from.
The sun shone down over the lake, and Fleur had come out here to bask in it on this rare chance, not think about her mother. Even if that were impossible to accomplish.
Viktor Krum dove into the lake from the great ship the Durmstrang students called their temporary home; the ice cold water seemed not to bother him. His powerful arms tore through the water as easily as if he were a swimmer and not a quidditch prodigy. Fleur had considered getting into the water herself, though a single foot into those depths forced her to recoil.
She would save that for the adrenaline fueled day when it would actually matter, she was more than an adequate swimmer, having gone swimming with Gabrielle plenty of times. Still, she had never swum in such shockingly cold water, Madame Maxime had suggested she practice her warming charms, though even fiendfyre couldn't warm those deep black depths.
Still, she reminded herself, the sun was out today, and of all days, it was her date with Harry. The supposedly quaint village below hadn't held any appeal to her, and honestly it still didn't, but the chance for a date with someone who cared about her, that was hard to resist.
Rumors had persisted through her classmates, the usual kind, of the ensnaring Veela trying to steal the most famous person around. As though Harry was helpless.
Once more she wished she hadn't risen to Clarissa's bait, giving her ammunition was never a good idea. She could play the part of a concerned acquaintance worried about Fleur well enough, though she seemed tailor made to play the scathing harpy.
Viktor pulled himself up on a rope that dangled into the water, Fleur glanced at the watch she had been given for her birthday, she had wasted an entire fifteen minutes dwelling rather than acting. Moping over boys or rumors wouldn't help her win the Triwizard Tournament, even if those were much easier.
"Well, at least he is practicing…"
Fleur turned her head to see Clarissa admiring Krum. She managed to bite down the groan that wanted to escape.
"I'm sorry, I lost track of the time practicing my charms."
"You said you were going to win, not mess around with the Potter boy."
It was hard to not rise to this bait.
Fleur got to her feet, numbed from sitting against the wooden bench, she patted her bottom down. If only she could take a moment to let feeling come back, but Clarissa wouldn't relax for Fleur's comfort.
She dogged Fleur's every step, muttering vague threats.
Fleur had forgotten a single session with the girl, and she blew it out of proportion. She would be lucky if Clarissa allowed her another minute of help. Even if she didn't know what she was helping with exactly, Fleur had been making some great progress with her dueling.
A few students lingering in the entrance hall made Clarissa bark down, though Fleur just made her way through to the great hall.
The tables were daunting as ever, eyes turned in unison as the students from the other schools swept in, Fleur didn't judge them, no doubt if this were hosted in Beauxbaton her school would have acted the same. Secrets were held close to the chest with the big magical schools.
The glances from her peers were enough to drive anyone mad, but they seemed to think she was blind to them. No matter her talents and accomplishments, years of rumors and distrust seemed to win the war in their minds, even some Hogwarts students shied away from her. Veela were capable of doing something like that to them — as if she had ever sought out their attention.
Eyes followed her wherever she went, but they couldn't help it, beauty and Veela were synonymous. At least none of the students new to Veela were in need of a lesson in propriety. They even left her a spot near the middle of the Ravenclaw table.
Hogwarts' food had improved since their first nights here, less fried potatoes littered the table where they sat, leaving room for yogurt and light pastries. Some small fruits were scattered about too, though those were often eaten by the Hogwarts students too. Most were willing to try a nice fruit, even if a crepe was too strange to them.
Fleur watched as Harry walked into the hall, his hair not as wild as usual. She would have to speak to him about that, the effort he made for her was heartwarming, but it was largely a gesture she didn't need. As long as his attitude was as stellar as it usually was, the state of his hair was of little importance.
Just the other day she had been talking of enchanting, and he had glowed listening to her explain how the basics worked. Though he had no understanding of the subject he was happy to listen to her explain her pursuit of the craft, and he was suitably impressed once he grasped that she was studying beyond what many at Beauxbatons had managed, let alone thrived at.
He was rolling one of those gobstones between his fingers, she'd never seen him without them, for some reason he had even brought them to the ball. She had witnessed him play in that tournament, and he was supposed to be good at gobstones, but somehow it was hard to relate. Perhaps it was just some silly things boys did, like riding their brooms around the school.
Harry ignored the turned heads that followed his procession, Fleur had noticed it the first night she had been in the castle; Harry Potter drew eyes. Somehow he hadn't realized it though, he acted like he wasn't a pivotal fixture of the school, but Fleur knew exactly what that was like, even without the Triwizard Tournament. Viktor Krum was the same, maybe more so than either of them, though he had just come from a World Cup final.
Harry had blown her expectations out of the water, from the first task to the ball, somehow he had gone from strength to strength. Most boys his age were embarrassed about dancing, instead he took to it and ended up making a night she wouldn't soon forget. Her friends hadn't believed her tales of that night, assuming Harry would make a fool of himself no doubt.
It had seemed most of her school had thought that way, then to see him walk out and efficiently tackle his dragon, well they had no idea what to think. He was supposed to be Dumbledore's walking trophy; not a skilled wizard in his own right. Perhaps the goblet had actually managed to choose wisely with Harry.
Fleur certainly wouldn't rule him out, or consider him anything less than a threat.
The morning post arrived, with its usual burst of noise: the chatter of excited children, clatters of cups being shifted aside, and the occasional hoot. This morning an owl landed in front of her, with its leg raised. Though her family had no owl of their own, she knew who it must be from, and within a second of opening it her suspicions were confirmed.
The letter wasn't even slightly unpleasant, not a single blunt reminder of her duty, it simply announced that her family had been invited to watch the second task; and were due to arrive a few days before then. She couldn't imagine Gabby having a nice time if February was anything like early January, she never could handle the cold, let alone whatever this constant drizzle of ice shards was. Well, almost constant, she mentally corrected herself with a glance up toward the enchanted ceiling.
Her yogurt tasted less than amazing, though she ate it without complaint, it was either too fatty or not enough fat; she hadn't figured out exactly how to tell. Her mother and grandmother claimed they could taste fat in foods instantly, though they were likely lying.
A few strawberries, kept magically in season, followed. The juice burst in her mouth and reminded her of home, of evenings spent with Gabby, out in long grass with nothing to worry over. She hadn't had a picnic in a very long time now, perhaps when Gabby was here she could steal her away and have some sister time.
"Lover boy is over at his table, why are you grinning?" Mikaela teased.
A few Ravenclaw students leaned in, no doubt interested to hear their French and try to figure it out, these students made curiosity seem like a competition.
"Gabby will be coming to see the second task, and my parents."
"Ah, say no more, that little firecracker could make Madame Côté smile." The laugh that accompanied was rich and Fleur joined in not long after. Gabby was many things, but not a miracle worker. Not yet, anyway.
Mikaela, Evélia, and a few other girls sat around her, focused on their own letters or homework. Madame Maxime rarely stooped to teaching subjects herself; but once she did her reputation as a hard mistress was reminded to them all, not a single one of them rested easy. Fleur barely escaped the worst of it with the tournament, though she got a different kind of attention, the hovering of an over-large bear; who only wanted to see her survive and thrive.
"How about you? Have a date for today's trip?" Fleur asked.
"No, I got bored of Cormac, he seemed to only be interested in what's under my top; not that I can blame him." Mikaela's smirk reeked of the confidence of having been the first in their year to hit puberty, her ability to take eyes away from Fleur was seemingly the girl's greatest pride.
Rumors had burst up around her too, all those years ago, but they always did and nothing would change that. Girls were often much worse than boys, where one suggested, the other fabricated imaginary deeds. Mikaela had struggled, as had Fleur, but their friendship was stronger for it.
Evélia giggled as she played with her own parchment, her face beet red. Mikaela peered at the letter and gave an exaggerated gasp.
"Moonlit strolls? My, my, Evélia, just what have you been getting up to?"
Evélia floundered, she had always been more reserved than they, which meant Mikaela simply had to tease her. Fleur smiled at her friends, their antics were almost soothing.
The meal passed before she knew it; lost in her conversation. Fleur found herself in a rapidly emptying Great Hall. She turned and found Harry watching her, a down-right sick look on his face that quickly vanished behind a bright smile. Fleur stood, waved goodbye to Mikaela and Evélia, and made her way to the Gryffindor table.
Harry tucked a letter into his pocket as she drew close, his eyes roaming over her. He didn't seem to notice how obvious he was being, still, he regained himself fast enough.
"Good morning Harry."
"Good morning Fleur, are you ready?" He gave her a less appraising look over this time. "It's not that cold, the sun's out."
"I will believe that when I feel it, the breeze alone could freeze a ferret."
Harry laughed at her joke, perhaps a little mean, but that Malfoy boy was Harry's Clarrisa. And some solidarity there would set him at ease.
"We aren't that lucky, well… you might not be." A smirk tugged at his lips and he stood, offering her his arm.
With her arm tucked against his, they made their way with the other students towards Hogsmeade. Fleur blinked at the carriages lined up to take them, during their flight over the grounds the village had looked only a few minutes away by foot.
She was glad for the thick leggings she had chosen to wear. Despite the sun the wind was fierce even this far from the castle. It was as if those old stone walls protected them from harsh breezes, but considering how old and magically dense it was, she wouldn't be surprised if it did.
The carriage they climbed into wasn't empty but the two wide eyed girls went silent once they entered. Neither made an attempt at greeting them, but to her surprise, Harry did.
"Hey Ginny, do you mind if we take a ride with you?" His voice was friendly, he knew this girl well it would seem. His familiar tone was the best indication as, from what Fleur had seen, he rarely offered conversation up with strangers.
"Of course, where's Ron?"
"He's going with Katie later, no doubt sleeping in again," Harry laughed. Fleur had briefly met Ron, he didn't leave much of an impression on her, but being in the shadow of Harry could do that.
"Hermione?"
"Catching up on some studies. You know how she is, it's been a week since she had a good read."
"Oh… well," Ginny pouted, her head turning to look out the window. Fleur knew that look far too well, Harry seemed oblivious to it though as he turned to regard her.
"You still want to start at the shrieking shack? It's not very exciting," he asked, though he had been excited to take her a few days ago.
"Of course, it is supposed to be utterly frightful," she teased. Harry had hinted at knowing more about it, but he had just grinned and shook his head when she asked, getting information out of him could be tough. Not that she was trying to get anything out of him really.
He pulled a gobstone out of his pocket and was rolling it impossibly between his fingers. Gravity seemed not to affect his gobstones, not when he was playing with them anyway. He had no knowledge of enchantments, but they had to be enchanted somehow, and by an expert for it to work on something so small and fragile.
Maybe there was one answer she should try to get from him.
Still, prying would do neither of them any good, from what she could guess it might send him off running. He watched her from the corner of his eyes, his brows furrowed, she pretended not to notice which he seemed to accept. Even though she looked out the window next to him.
The carriage moved at rather an impressive pace, the woods and the cracked path falling behind them easily, until they got a clear open view of Hogsmeade. The village looked stunning, cozy shacks and buildings nestled inside a clearing, tall evergreen trees boxed the village in. Like frostbitten guardians, the trees waited at the outskirts, melting icicles lingering on their branches. The far end of the village fell away over a deep bowl in the land, so large that no one would easily climb it.
She could just make out a battered looking hut in the distance, no doubt the Shrieking Shack. There were plenty of students already milling about in the village.
Their carriage clattered against some loose stone pavement with a not so gentle thump, none of them escaped with their pride intact. Fleur was flung from her seat, and the other girls clung onto each other for dear life. Harry just giggled to himself as he held the carriage doors open for them.
"I can't believe you screamed," Harry chuckled, his arm not nearly as cold as the breeze around them.
"I didn't, I gasped, it was the little blonde girl who screamed," Fleur lied.
She had to damn near yell to be heard over the gusts of wind, which seemed to be coming straight out of the north, carrying ice in its path. At least she had an excuse to hold Harry close, though no doubt her natural warmth was doing more to keep him warm than he was her. Still, their stroll down towards the shack was far from awful.
At first Harry had been wary of all the eyes watching them. It was to be expected though, he acted as if they were a couple of nobodies who could slip away without notice, rather than school Champions. Neither of them had trouble drawing eyes even before the tournament, it was only natural that their presence in Hogsmeade together was an event amongst his classmates.
"Harry," she called out, voicing a lingering concern. "Why were you surprised, or annoyed, to see people watching us?"
His step faltered, causing her to slow also, and he looked almost embarrassed. "Well, I just wish I could enjoy myself without people hovering or watching."
She understood, though she had grown past those feelings long ago, once she had learned that there was no alternative for her. She thought of how to put it gently for Harry, who clearly hadn't been made to face the issue. "They looked for many reasons, we were the talk of the Yule Ball, mostly jealousy but still people talked."
"Well of course they were jealous, you looked perfect… not that you don't look lovely now…"
Fleur chuckled, when he forgot himself enough to let his honest feelings slip she couldn't help but enjoy it. He tried very hard to be proper, or at least what a boy without much experience with girls thought proper.
"Thank you, but they weren't only jealous of you, you ought to have seen some of the glares I received. What's that saying… 'if looks could kill,'" she said. Harry looked as if he were about to protest, so she cut him off. "Trust me, they did. And don't forget you are a Champion, and currently tied for first. These aren't things that people brush aside."
"So why do they act like I'm no better than dirt half the time?" he asked, his voice quiet and full of pain.
"I don't know, people are stupid. You have no idea how often I've been told, by good people, that they would behave like Veela from the rumors if they were one — though I suppose that says more about them than it does about me."
Harry looked appalled for a few seconds, he even forgot to walk, and stopped where he had been in the path. "You have to be joking? Do they honestly think you're like that, have they not met you?"
"No more than most of your schoolmates have met you, which isn't much, is it?"
He chuckled, "I guess not…"
"You could do much worse than letting some people in, let them know who you really are, not the myth or story."
They walked forward once more. The cobblestone path was cracked and broken, and each step threatened a fall down into the bowl below. The flimsy wooden barrier looked anything but sturdy, and couldn't have been magically reinforced — not with the state it was in. The trail was certainly not something that silly school students should be allowed to follow, though she knew the youngest students weren't allowed to visit the village at all.
"Myth? Is it that bad?" Harry asked, his voice distant.
"No, of course not, but rumors about you spread around the globe I'd bet. In France we had Grindelwald not too long before Voldemort, and the Veela never recovered, not really." Much to her own misery. Their reduced population was a constant reminder of what was expected of her.
"There is a lot of fear at just the rumor of a dark wizard, let alone one who is matching Dumbledore stride for stride. When that dark wizard is cast down by an infant, it makes people take notice," she finished. Harry watched her with eyes wide, and nodded after a while.
"Grindelwald was that bad then?"
Winds rippled alongside the tree line beside them, causing a shiver to run down her back, the whisper of her mother dredged up from her youth. Something Fleur had never forgiven the woman for.
"Very bad… The Veela were nearly made extinct, he guarded his heart and mind very closely. We were a unique threat to him, or so mother tells me."
"I'm so sorry, that sounds horrible." Harry didn't understand, not many could, but he shared the pain her mother had tried to instill in Fleur. Family torn apart in war and death? Harry knew that all too well, even if he had been too young to feel the worst of it, he'd been left with nothing.
Fleur wouldn't allow herself to be forced into the same position, no matter the reason.
"That is all to say, people expect great things from you, their heads turn when you walk into a room. They want to hear what you say… you fascinate them," she said, having seen it plenty during her stay at Hogwarts. Some obviously didn't have such mundane motivations, but Harry knew that.
"They are fools then, I'm not special, I'm just stuck in a shit tournament." He offered a little laugh as if to pass it off as a joke, Fleur didn't buy it for a second; Harry wasn't self-deprecating, he honestly believed that. She couldn't fix that, not with words anyway.
"Of course they are, I've met some of them. Awful bores. One does happen to be the Minister for Magic though."
Harry slipped, the melting snow cushioned his landing.
He glared up at her, "What do you mean, Fudge? Nosy and annoying, sure, but he's not like those people."
"He chose to sit next to you at the ball, while there were other important people with more to talk about. He might not be a fan, but he is interested in you Harry."
Harry scrambled to his feet, shaking the slush off his cloak. Fleur pulled her wand out to offer her help, but Harry managed to dry himself off without much effort. He must have figured out the clue, or else he had an interest in staying dry. Considering the weather it could be either, but a functioning drying charm wasn't worth learning over a water repelling charm.
"I think you're looking way too much into that," Harry laughed. Fleur could tell her words had bothered him though, his eyes looked haggard and hunted.
"Perhaps, but I think we are getting close."
The path opened up after a while to show them the shack, only a few meters away, Harry glanced around.
"You sure you want to go in?" he asked much louder than needed.
"You scared?" she teased, though Harry seemed anything but scared. "Of course I do, otherwise the extra ten minutes walking was a bit silly. If anything pale jumps out at you I'll save you." She gave him a little peck on the cheek, which caused him to jump and stammer. She rushed to the splintered door, adding an extra sway in her step. As if Harry needed any further prompting.
The hinges creaked as the door swung open, it echoed all around; if it qualified as a house anymore. Harry appeared at her side, took a step inside, and instantly found the creakiest floorboard in the country.
The walls were decorated with torn and ruined wallpaper, perhaps once fine, it hadn't survived the tortured souls that were said to reside within. Scratch marks adorned the walls and floor, nothing a ghost could make. Fleur gripped her wand and gestured for Harry to do the same. He only laughed and took another few steps deeper into the house.
A large shaggy black dog came bounding at them, Fleur had her wand up in a moment, but the dog stopped next to Harry and sniffed him all over before jumping on him to lick at his face. Harry laughed and pushed the great monster off himself. Fleur didn't lower her wand, whatever made those scratches were not some mangy dog, no matter how big it was.
"Get off Padfoot, silly dog." Harry said, his voice still cheerful. The dog didn't sit or act like a pet, it just wandered around and watched them.
"A friend?" Fleur asked. The dog growled a deep low sound, but not as if ready to pounce, just a reminder if Fleur had to guess.
"Something like that," Harry shrugged. "There's not much to this place, I did warn you. Oh, don't go through the tunnel by the basement, but we can explore a bit if you'd like." Fleur nodded, her wand still tight in her grip.
The dog burst into motion, charging up the stairs, managing to make shockingly little sound despite its considerable size. Harry shook his head and gestured with a flourish to a nearby room as if he were showing her to a delightful date spot.
The room had been a dining room once, fine china dishes had been ground to dust over the years and shards lay all over the floor. An ornate table had been torn apart and strewn across the room, certainly something violent had taken place here. Dark red stains littered the walls and floor too, violent indeed.
"What happened here?" she asked, her voice quiet.
"A werewolf," Harry muttered, his eyes fixed on the stains. "He was taken here to transform so he wouldn't hurt any other students, left to destroy himself and the house."
"A werewolf, a student… Dumbledore is far too good for his own sake, that sounds an awful risk," Fleur said. There had been no complaint at her own presence in the school, though she wasn't a threat to students unless she wanted to be, much like any other student. Werewolves had little say in the matter. Dumbledore had achieved something incredible, and no one would hear about it.
"A student, it all went off without a hitch of course, but seeing all of this is very different to hearing the story." Harry traced a scratch in the wall, inches deep and thick with what Fleur could only assume was a blood stain.
"You knew the werewolf?" she asked, it was obvious, but allowing him to open up wouldn't go amiss.
"Yeah, he was one of my dad's best friends, he taught here last year and that's how I learned about this place." Fleur blinked, Dumbledore really liked playing with fire, though she supposed the wolfsbane potion made the werewolf as stable as any teacher.
The black dog scrambled down the stairs, flailing to a sprawl at the foot of the stairs, all four paws stretched out awkwardly. Harry laughed and Fleur found herself joining him, the dog looked the worse for wear from this angle, ribs clearly visible.
"Poor boy, you look like you could use some food," she said, and the dog's tail wagged. It pounded against the floor, causing the walls to creak, Fleur looked up and the dog stopped.
Harry crouched down and petted the dog's ears, "Professor Lupin helped me a lot last year, he's a good friend, if he were here I'm sure he would be worried over me. Even though I'm doing well, some people never listen to you when you say that though," he finished with a laugh at the dog.
"When people care about you, they find it hard to listen to what you say, not when you're lying to them," Fleur teased. Harry was brave and certainly competent enough for the tournament, but he couldn't hide his nerves to save his life. "This tournament is terrifying, the first task was dragons, who knows what else they have in store for us."
The dog sat by her feet, gently growling a soft sound. She crouched down and rubbed his neck, trying to find the spot that would make his legs twitch uncontrollably.
"You would side with her, you mutt," Harry accused as he sent the dog a scathing look.
Fleur stepped past the dog and glanced around the hall, she tried to count the vast amount of scratches. Even the ceiling was marred, no doubt he had injured himself severely while making this mess. "Your Professor did all of this?"
"Yeah, over seven years, the memory of that time still fuels the rumors of this place being haunted." The dog whined, an adequate mirror of Harry's expression. Fleur couldn't blame them, the damage done here was tragic. To think an animal had done all this was one thing, but a scared and pained student alone, she couldn't imagine much worse.
"Was it worth it for him in the end?" she asked. "I can see how this would have broken him, every inch of this place is damaged."
"He thought so, and for good cause," Harry looked down at the dog, a sad smile on his lips. A whining moan escaped the dog, and Harry rubbed his head once more. "I think having this place gave him a chance to live like a normal person for a while. I'm sure he would give anyone the same treatment now. That's how much it meant to him."
Fleur picked each step as she climbed the stairs, every floor board threatened to collapse, even the banister had been tormented long ago. The second floor was much the same as the first, but there was a fiercer breeze up here, as though there were some holes in the walls. A door rattled on its hinges as it clattered against the wall.
"This Professor sounds like a good man, I am glad you had the chance to meet him," she told Harry, who had climbed up behind her, though he had been less careful of a fall. He smiled and nodded his head, though didn't speak, his face took on a distant look.
The upstairs was bare and destroyed, only one room still seemed somewhat intact, one with a ragged bed that creaked in the breeze. Fleur looked in and found some damage here and there, but not much that looked like a werewolf's work.
Harry lingered at the door, a sour expression marring his face, Fleur followed his glare, to see a patch of shattered plaster and wood, as if spell fire had gone wrong.
He noticed the look she gave him after a short moment, he shrugged and relaxed. "Just a bad memory from a worse night, nothing to worry about." Fleur nodded and reached for his hand, though Harry wasn't used to sharing a gentle touch, she knew that could calm anyone.
"Do you want to leave, find something happier to occupy our time? I think we have seen all this place has to offer anyway." He nodded and gave her a grateful smile.
The mangy dog was skulking near the door, chewing on his rear, it lifted its nose as they descended and watched them. Fleur had always liked dogs, but certainly never one as befouled as this mutt. It really could do with a good bathing, though the smell was probably too late to remedy.
Harry wished it well as they left, Fleur smiled, glad to see him treat even the filthiest animal with respect. Not many did. Though perhaps he had just picked up some Dumbledoreish traits, befriending strange dogs, werewolves, and Veela. The thought made her want to laugh, but some people out there did actually think that way.
Her hair whipped about her face as they made their way out of the shack, Harry held her up almost as much as she held him, they reached the relative safety of the path without any incident. Crisp pine filled the air as the trees shuddered in the wind, Fleur would've stopped to drink in the scent had she been alone, but Harry set a fair pace back toward the village.
Hogsmeade was even more crowded than before, they walked past students not far from the beaten path, some of which gave them funny looks. Fleur paid them no mind, but from Harry's tightened muscles she could tell he was. She stood straighter allowing some of her pride to show.
Modesty was a small crime compared to being happy to be seen in public with Harry, she hoped he caught on, and understood; he wasn't a fool. He led her to the warmth of the small pub near the middle of the village; only the British could have a pub be the central hub of their villages. Back home this would be a library or courthouse, something to serve the community, not wallow in cheap booze. It was very cold up here though, perhaps that made the difference.
The door opened to a gale of laughter and merriment, Fleur blinked as she stepped in, she hadn't expected to see so many students relaxing in the place. Wall to wall was filled with students having a good time, none looked particularly worse for wear either, perhaps she had judged a little quickly.
The barmaid wore a low-cut top and a ready smile, her eyes flicked past Harry and rested on her, a typical hardening washed over her; though she hid it a moment later and waved them towards a table that only had a few students around it. Fleur didn't recognize any of them, though she hadn't tried very hard to make new friends.
One or two glanced at them more often than she would have expected, but really it wasn't worth stressing over, the room was packed enough that eyes would be one them one way or another.
"It's a bit hectic, is it always like this?" Fleur leaned in across him to be heard, or else she'd have to shout.
"Yeah, for the most part, usually there's a few teachers though."
Harry craned his neck, trying to find a familiar face in the crowd. Fleur noticed the red in his cheeks, more than just a remnant of their walk in the cold wind. She failed to keep the smirk from her face, being capable of drawing a reaction wasn't a big deal; she had been doing so since puberty had wreaked its havoc. Stil, to have him react because of her and not her looks was a treat.
Most of her other boyfriends had been so enamored with her she could barely get a reaction out of them with words, though she hadn't complained back then. Harry either wasn't ravaged by hormones or he was just better at keeping his in check.
"Oh, there's Professor Flitwick now."
True enough, the tiny charms expert had just scampered into the bar. Harry turned to regard her with a grin on his face and those smiles brought out a depth of good looks in him. His emerald green eyes danced with emotion, she could lose herself in those eyes without regret; it was just a shame he was a competitor in the tournament. That unspoken aspect of their friendship, their relationship, was a constant weight to her.
Still, she was here with Harry, she wouldn't dwell on that issue.
Harry's windswept hair looked even messier than normal, which wasn't easy. He rolled one of his gobstones around on the small part of the table they were seated at. Fleur didn't mention it, she didn't want to come across as nosy or rude but Harry's obsession with those colorful beads intrigued her, he didn't seem to care much for quidditch or any other hobbies.
Though he had certainly had an impressive choice in beautiful areas, Fleur had been up in the owlery a few times since he had mentioned it, the smell wasn't great but the place had been brilliant. The Astronomy tower, well, she had enjoyed it plenty.
A pair of thick tankards floated to a stop in front of them, some foamy bubbles covered the top so Fleur couldn't see the contents, yet somehow she knew seeing it wouldn't make it taste any better. Harry grinned as he plucked his out of the air, that gobstone of his stuck impossibly to the back of his hand as he took a drink.
He wiped at the mouth with his other hand, and sighed, "Butterbeer, nothing better on a cold day."
"Butter…beer?"
Harry nodded, grin broad and eyes alight with humor.
Fleur took her own drink and masked the frown in the sweet drink, a quick gulp took the effervescent liquid down, but the disdain never came.
"It's good isn't it?"
His smug grin was clearly a taunt. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
"Why is it so creamy?"
Harry choked on his latest sip. "Creamy?"
She'd expected a grimace, but in its place only a smile came. He ended up finishing the entire mug.
"It's delicious."
February lurked in the near future, and Fleur had to face it soon enough. It was just a shame that a peaceful romance with Harry wouldn't last. Her duty would be hard to avoid, though she had proven to be stubborn before.
She just had to win the damn tournament now.
AN: So this chapter was so fun to write, really enjoyed the Fleur POV and reacting to Harry and whatnot. Let me know what you think, trying to keep things kind of subtle and all that, but readers always find a way to surprise me.
As always I'm going to plug the Harry/Fleur discord server, great place, really active, and full of helpful people. Discord .gg /qtpsGE5bRQ
There has been no better thing for my writing than this server, full of excellent authors (check some of my beta readers for names you might recognize) there is a swath of fantastic art, drabbles, prompts, websites and even lurkers.