Disclaimer: Everything is J.K. Rowling's, not mine.
Chapter 7 - The Price I Pay
Looking back to Fleur, Harry only saw mirth in her eyes. She took pity on him.
"Do you want to go for a walk?"
An odd mixture of happiness, stage fright and shock warred within Harry. He managed to force out a reply.
"Yeah, sure."
She threaded her fingers through his once again before looking back up at him with a bright expression.
"Take me somewhere."
His thoughts raced whilst he led her through the middle of the Great Hall, the music starting up again with a new song. Where should he take her? Perhaps the only place he'd truly felt himself for the past few months would be a good start.
Mind made up, he spied Ron slouched in a chair next to Hermione over in the far corner of the hall. Their sour expressions encouraged him to hurry the last few metres out. Hermione's appeared especially venomous. Maybe they didn't have a good time with their dates. At least now they know how it feels to be discarded.
Harry knew a conversation was coming. Or rather, multiple conversations. Now that he'd made a public, and not-so inconspicuous appearance, it wouldn't be easy to slip back into his previous routine. The thought worried him, having avoided nearly all human interaction for as long as he had. Then he also had whatever this was with Fleur, as well as those silly badges Malfoy had made and somehow coerced a good portion of his classmates to wear.
He'd just have to bite the bullet.
Their walk was a silent, albeit comfortable one. Harry had somehow managed to ignore the nerves that had shored up once she'd taken his hand. Reaching the fourth floor and nearing the classroom, he braced himself. It probably wouldn't be good to close up with Fleur. She'd never given him much of a reason to doubt her anyway, most of it had just been his negative thinking running wild. He was determined to give her a chance, at least.
"So, why'd you bring me here?" Fleur asked, curiously looking around the empty classroom he'd been using. A long, open-air window looked out over the dark grounds opposite the door.
Closing the door behind them, Harry replied "It's where I've been the whole time. I didn't like how everyone avoided me, so I avoided them. No one else has found it yet."
Fleur eyed the far wall he'd used as a backstop for learning all sorts of charms and curses. She then turned and looked at him quizzically, head slightly tilted as they sat together on a wooden bench underneath the window.
"Would that be the best way to go about things? Maybe you could have tried explaining yourself. Why do they avoid you?"
He felt a bit stupid. "I don't know, the first instinct I had was just to get away from it all. I think they've just spread the rumour that I'm some unhinged glory-hound."
"Who is 'they'? Your former friends or classmates?"
She'd taken his hand again as they sat, and he could swear he felt it warm again. Her tone gave nothing away, however.
Harry looked at the marred wall, wondering how he should phrase his thoughts. "Both, I'd assume. I don't know, I've avoided them, and they've avoided me, seems to work out alright."
Turning his head back to hers with a light touch of her fingers, her brow furrowed. "You can't isolate yourself like this. They might not be your friends anymore, but that doesn't mean you have to be alone. I doubt you were always such a scarce person."
"Why do you care?" he returned. Harry was genuinely puzzled why she should take any sort of interest in his social life.
"Harry, you saved my life twice in one night, without asking for anything in return or even mentioning it. My father didn't even believe me when I told him what happened. He still doesn't. You don't babble like an idiot when you see me either, and you trusted me when I was showing you the dragons. I thought I should get to know you more. It helps that you're easy on the eyes," she finished with a light smile.
Almost reeling, Harry was left speechless for a moment. "Why would I babble like an idiot when I see you? And you really think so?"
Sighing, she took her hand back from his, glancing down. "I thought you would've noticed. I'm a Veela," she said as if it explained everything. "I don't just kiss anyone either."
It suddenly dawned on him. The glazed eyes when she'd spilled the bouillabaisse over him. The odd question Ron had asked right after. The piercing glares a few girls had directed towards her as she'd exited the Great Hall with him, Hermione included. Harry had heard a few rumours but wasn't sure if they had even a grain of truth to them. The Bulgarian cheerleaders of the Quidditch World Cup flashed through his mind.
Harry stopped Fleur from sinking further into herself by taking one of her hands back into his. As strange as the action felt, it seemed like the right thing to do. He was rewarded by a tender look but couldn't give himself over to the moment entirely yet.
"What's so special about Veela?"
Not breaking eye contact, she explained. "Those of… weaker willpower can have a difficult time controlling themselves around me. I have a natural allure that can be felt by others. Veela also have a natural affinity to fire, and they can bring it forth if their will is great enough. I'm not sure how much Veela blood I have, so my abilities may not be the same as others'."
Pausing, Fleur looked away. "We are also much more attuned to others and can feel an intense attraction for those we immediately sense as compatible. Sometimes all we might need is a single glance."
"Oh. Alright. That's fine."
Her gaze took on an almost predatory gleam, reminding him of the first time the Horntail had set eyes on him. Fleur beckoned him up, her cheeks slightly pinked. He obliged, and with a few firm deliberate flicks of her wand, she conjured a blanket and some pillows on the bench.
"No, really it- I never even realised, I just-"
Only at that moment had he realised that he'd entirely misread her expression.
Fleur pushed him down on the bench, tore his glasses off and crushed her mouth to his. Harry did his best to match her enthusiasm but was swiftly overwhelmed, every nerve ending on fire. She only strengthened her assault on him when he ran his hands down her arched neck and over her exposed collarbone and shoulders. A heated hand came up into his hair, holding the back of his head in place. It was oddly comforting. Harry was entirely enveloped by a curtain of delicate, silvery hair.
She finally parted from him, breathing just as hard as he was. Instead of sitting back up, Fleur chose to tuck her head beneath his chin. A deep sense of fulfillment had washed away his nervousness.
Deciding to break the silence, he asked what was in hindsight quite a stupid question.
"So does this mean you're… attracted to me?"
Looking up at him as if she'd hit her head, she replied.
"What sort of question is that? Of course! Although, I've only known for sure since I showed you the dragons. Thank you for the hint about the egg, by the way."
Harry averted his eyes. "It was the least I could do, I would've been done for if you hadn't shown me the dragons. Thank you." He paused, an awkward silence threatening to take hold. If he could face a dragon, he could do this.
"So what does this mean for me and… for us? How come you seem so familiar with me?"
"Well, I'd like to date you. If you're agreeable, that is. As I was saying earlier, we can read people very well. I realise now that it may seem as coming on a little bit…" she trailed off, searching for the correct word.
"A little bit strong, perhaps, as I can sense your intentions. Veela are strong judges of character, Harry."
She put on a brave front, but he thought Fleur looked oddly nervous. Nervous? The familiar way in which she said his name, although foreign to Harry, had certainly warmed him.
"I realise now that it must seem a bit strange, you not having the same senses as I do. I'm sorry, I think I was a little bit forward with you. Is that okay?"
"No- that's great, uh, yes?" Midway through his reply, he'd just given up. His thoughts were too jumbled anyway.
Amusement shone through her features. Reaching up to stroke the side of his face again, she carefully ran her thumb along his cheekbone.
"Yes, that's great," she whispered. "Wonderful, even."
"It feels like a fever dream."
A slow, mischievous grin spread across her face.
"Have you kissed a girl before me, Harry?"
The question caught him even more off guard. "Uh… no?"
"You better learn how to then. Let's not move too fast."
She assailed him with enough enthusiasm that he wasn't entirely sure if she meant what she said. Harry thought that if anything, she looked rather hungry. That was just before he lost himself in her kiss again.
Harry walked through the castle after escorting Fleur back to the Beauxbatons carriage. He had no clue what the time was and didn't care either. Luckily for him, the halls were scarce of students. Part of him was thrilled with what had happened, the other cautiously sceptical.
He'd never thought that a girl would want to kiss him like that, let alone date him. Why did she act like she was so familiar with him? He'd not had much contact with her before, asides from that night in the forest that may have tied them together in some strange way.
Did he not think enough of himself? Was this 'normal'? Perhaps it was something to do with her Veela ancestry he hadn't quite grasped yet, but he was convinced the situation he was in was not normal by any means. Although, he should be used to unconventional situations by now.
Fleur's extreme forwardness made him question the pace of their… relationship? It must be by now, anyway. Sure, he'd seen her beauty the first time he saw her, but it didn't make his eyes glaze over. Should it?
It was also strange of her to be like this when everyone else seemed to avoid him as if physically pushed away by his presence.
Now that Harry found himself out of the heat of the moment, he wasn't sure what was going on. The pacing of their relationship was probably very odd to others as well. Was it weird to him? Harry didn't have any experience, so he wasn't sure what a good barometer for pacing would be.
On the other hand, he found himself entirely willing to sink into whatever was going on. Would he regret it later? Only time would tell. At least she'd figured out the clue as well.
Fleur had also asked to join him in the classroom the next day to practice for the task with him – she'd mentioned they may as well work together. Surely she's got nothing to learn from me though, she's a seventh-year. All sorts of possibilities swam through his mind. He did his best to ignore the darker ones.
As long as it wasn't too late, he thought he'd get back to practicing the Bubble-Head Charm. Cedric had been talking about it to one of his friends as he'd been walking out of the library. Harry, underneath the invisibility cloak, had overheard. Might as well play it safe and use a simplistic method.
The corridors were now empty, and he made quick progress up to his fourth-floor room. Harry wouldn't be able to sleep in his current state of mind anyway.
Nearing the classroom, he heard a noise from behind him. Harry snapped to action, whipping his wand out and turning.
Hermione stood behind him, her wand also drawn.
"What are you doing over here, Harry? Weren't you with that French girl?"
Already annoyed from seeing her earlier look, he replied. "What's it to you?"
"You've changed. Why are you acting like this?" She seemed to almost be pleading with him, but no discernible emotions shone through in her voice. Not that he could pretend to know why she might.
"Hermione, you've been distant from me even before my name came out of the Goblet. Then you avoided me after. It isn't any of your business."
Ignoring whatever she said next, Harry turned, tucking his wand away and resumed his walk past the empty classroom. He didn't want to give his spot away.
"Harry!"
Another sound came from behind Harry, and he didn't want it to be what he thought it was. He'd also been quite stupid to turn his back on a drawn wand. The forward momentum he carried didn't help either.
His legs snapped together beneath him, and he fell forward flat on his face. A cracking sound heralded the end of his glasses. Turning over on his back, he quickly fished his wand out and cast the counter-curse to the Leg-Locker Curse. Scrambling to his feet, one eye squinting through the cracked lenses of his glasses, he cast a Shield Charm.
Hermione stood, one hand clapping over her mouth as she realised what she'd done. He wasn't sure if she was more concerned about him or because she'd probably just broken at least two school rules. Not that he'd say anything, he was above that. Judging by Malfoy's badges, the professors wouldn't care either.
He backed down the few remaining metres of the corridor facing her, before spinning and turning the corner. There, Harry hugged the inside wall and disillusioned himself, hoping he'd done the charm correctly. Hermione came running around the corner and went right past him. The seventh-year charm seemed to work.
Stepping out, he watched her blurry figure retreating further down the corridor. One of his former best friends, and his second ever at that. Tears threatened Harry's eyes at the bitter thought, but he managed to pull them back at the last moment. Maybe it's just meant to be like this. A load of good my study is doing me if I can't even defend myself. A familiar feeling of shame settled within him. He'd had been so careless that he'd let himself be hexed in the back.
Yanking the ruined frames of his glasses from his nose, Harry tucked them in his robe pocket next to his wand and started the walk back to Gryffindor Tower. All motivation to prepare for the second task had disappeared.
He'd repair his glasses when he could find the motivation for that, too. A simple spell felt beyond him at the moment. The blurry corridors were a nice reprieve from his turmoil.
Down at breakfast the next morning, Harry felt keenly more aware of the number of eyes on him. It certainly had not been like this since he'd first half-fallen out with Ron and Hermione at the start of term.
He didn't feel like it was entirely related to last night's Yule Ball. Perhaps most of it, but not this level of gawking.
The discomfort gnawed away at his hunger until he gave up, ducked into an alcove to swing his cloak over him, and headed up to his fourth-floor empty classroom. His glasses irritated him, sitting on his nose awkwardly. It turns out that magic can't fix everything. At least they still served their core purpose – he could still see.
He opened the door to his classroom slowly, making sure it was empty. Harry was very grateful he'd had the foresight to only come here under the cloak since the beginning, as he'd seen Hermione despondently walking out of the library. Her eyes had been red-rimmed.
To her credit, she looked the very picture of regret, but Harry wasn't sure how much he could trust that. Would she do it again? This was already the third time something had happened between them in the past few months.
Looking to the wall, Harry was now certain Filch would beat him to death with a broom if he discovered it. Fortunately for him, the classroom was very out of the way, and its smaller size made Harry doubt anyone would be coming here in the foreseeable future.
Desperately wanting to rid himself of the dark thoughts his former friend had inspired in him, he thought he'd practice the Patronus Charm first. It had saved him twice last year. If I can't stay vigilant enough to avoid a Leg-Locker Curse, I might as well go back to the basics.
Moody's shouts of constant vigilance echoed through his mind. Harry realised he'd put all of his energy into learning new spells and theory, rather than fortifying and improving what he'd already known. His own ignorance greatly annoyed him. Never again.
Harry shifted his focus to finding a memory to use for the Patronus. His thoughts turned to Fleur. The warm feeling of her hand on his cheek. Silver hair tickling his nose as it hung over him. A comforting, rosy scent. The caring way she'd held him, and the feel of her hand threaded in his.
The sensation filled him wholly, and with a flick of his wand, Harry enounced the incantation. The familiar white glow began to seep through his closed eyelids. He felt as if his mind was being caressed by the positive emotions swirling within it. That's why when he opened his eyes, he almost lost his balance.
A bright, but small ball of white light emanated from the end of his wand. The sensation faded as it was replaced by confusion and no small amount of despair. In response, the small white glow also reduced until it had disappeared entirely.
Thinking frantically, he pulled the memory of the first time he'd seen his parents in the Mirror of Erised forth. Hope surged through him, the mental picture he had of them clearer than he could ever remember.
Opening his eyes, he almost froze in shock again, dropping his wand. A terrible emptiness came crashing down on him. The holly wand that had never yet failed him slowly rolled across the pockmarked stone floor, a small white glow gradually fading as it went.
Walking slowly over to the wall, he slid down it and pulled his knees to his chest.
The spell he'd spent so long learning to cast correctly. The memories that had worked before. The pride he felt at his link to his father through Prongs. It was almost too much for him.
Holding back the tears that once again threatened his dignity with all the strength he had, he determined that he wouldn't throw himself into being ahead of the rest of his year. Especially if this was the cost. Was it? Or were there other factors at play that stopped him from casting a Patronus? It wouldn't hurt to have a more solid foundation though. Or maybe it would. This certainly hurts enough.
With all the injustice of the past few months welling up, he crawled towards his wand, seeing red. Harry's fingers scrabbled at it, the tremors that ran through him like nothing he'd ever experienced before.
Once his hand had closed around it, Harry pointed it towards the wall behind him and let loose with a single burst of pure hatred.
Green light flew from the end, zapping at the air as it travelled. The spell impacted roughly against the damaged wall, tearing a large chunk of stone out and sending it thudding to the floor. It sounded like an explosion. The impact caused a cloud of dust to rise through the room, strengthened by cracks that stretched all the way to the ceiling. His ringing ears left him wondering what he'd just done.
Harry crossed his legs and leaned forward, putting his face in his hands. He would squash down these emotions as best he could.
It was at that moment that he heard the door creak. Looking up, he desperately tried to reign in his emotions the second he spied the silver hair.
A/N
I've been tidying up previous chapters somewhat - there has been a vision for this story from the start, but I am currently trying to work out the best way in which to convey it. Your feedback is valuable, it lets me know if something is unclear, done well, or needs to be revised/taken into account for future chapters. The reviews and feedback so far have been much appreciated and certainly taken into account, I've been able to improve a few areas already with just that.
Remember, the idea is that there is a reason for everything in this story, not fuelled by some 'oh, whoops, I thought it would be fun to make this happen' moment. There is still much to come. I hope by this stage the story is largely coherent and you all enjoy it. Cheers! Please do leave a review and let me know - I am an amateur, after all.
Update 9th August 2022 - I've further revised previous chapters and will continue to until both you and I are satisfied with the pacing. Big shout out to the guest reviewer who typed out two dot-points on the present issues - I don't know what happened to your review after I approved it, but it was very very helpful.
