Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everything.
Chapter 9 - If You Could Only See
The weather cleared up somewhat into the second half of February. It had yet done little for the frigid temperature within the castle. Gusts of wind blew in through the open windows and danced through the corridors, leaving a chill in their wake.
Harry found himself making his usual circuit through the library, book in hand. He stared at the open pages but read none of the words. His nerves had made sure of that much, with the second task just tomorrow.
They'd decided against blatant cooperation in the tournament, neither wanting to be handed a score of zero from the judges. Champion cooperation was a grey area, and they didn't feel it was worth the risk at the moment.
He hadn't attended a class since he'd been in Charms three weeks ago. Flitwick had even given his informal approval for Harry to continue with his private study over attending daily classes, as impressed as the professor was with his performance.
Some intrusive thought of his continually nagged at him, wanting him to go to all of his classes just so that he could show up his classmates repeatedly. He'd resisted, but the idea amused him. Harry didn't think himself to be that much of a narcissist. Fleur was all for it though.
He knew she just wanted to see the others suffer for what they'd done. Fleur had been disgusted with his classmates and former friends.
Skimming through the pages of a wizarding history textbook absent-mindedly, he thought the idea quite comforting. She'd sadly been inundated with catch-up work for her seventh-year exams, and her presence had become increasingly scarce. Harry had managed to cope so far.
It even surprised him how much he'd changed from the train ride here. At first, things were tumultuous at best, but once Harry had at least found out why things were as they were, it was easier to accept. He still grappled with the idea that something invisible inside him was fractured.
That certainly hadn't been easy to come to terms with, and he wasn't quite sure he had yet.
There was another matter he'd given a great deal of thought to recently. Harry struggled with introspection, and his new academic and practical capability complicated things further.
He'd let himself be blinded by his own ego almost entirely since his name had come out of the goblet. The goal of 'becoming something to be proud of' came eerily close to Voldemort's words to him back in his first year. There is no good or evil. There is only power, and those too weak to seek it.
The statement had merit. But it didn't quite sit right with him. He felt a constant inner struggle between putting himself first and doing what was right. It was brutally honest and objectively true. He was previously never able to or had even thought about putting himself first, but now that he had a taste, it was addictive. No one to speak down to him, nor slap him around when they felt like it. His increasing capabilities only ensured that further.
Harry wasn't even sure Fleur would be able to set him straight. Her fiercely protective nature, as much as he liked it, would perhaps serve to only delude him more. It had surprised Harry to learn just how cool Fleur could be towards others, but she had a definitive soft spot for him.
Leaving the library, Harry headed down through the castle, unsure of where he was going. He'd decided to leave the cloak for today.
Only as he neared the second-floor girls' bathroom did he recall the words of Tom Riddle. Pausing near the door, Harry realised that Riddle had much the same goal he had. His words from the Chamber rung through his mind. I don't want to be the 'greatest sorcerer of all time', I just want to be enough.
He wasn't sure how far he'd be able to get, but it would surely cost whatever tatters of his friendships remained. Perhaps he could find a balance between the two?
His capacity for empathy had greatly diminished since essentially everyone he knew had turned their backs on him. The darker side of his thoughts acknowledged it'd been useful.
Light, quick footsteps caught his attention. Her stride faltered, but she quickly plastered a smile on her face. Harry was impressed that she'd managed to maintain her composure when she met his eyes. Hopefully, the days of elbows in butter dishes were long past.
"Ginny?"
"Hi, Harry," she stopped just a few metres before him, eyes darting to the entrance of the bathroom.
"What are you doing here?"
Looking back at him, she replied "I come here every now and then. It helps, after… you know."
Harry felt like a right git. He wasn't sure he'd talked to her at all last year – after what had happened in her first year, he felt he should've at least checked up on her.
Maybe he could start here in repairing those friendships that he'd undeniably had a hand in destroying, as much as he could blame others.
"I'm sorry."
Ginny cocked her head at him. "Whatever for?"
"I never checked on you at all last year. It must've been difficult to get through after what happened in your first."
She seemed surprised, and it only compounded his guilt. "That's fine. You had a lot on your plate, anyway."
"No, it's no excuse. How's your year going?"
Fidgeting with the hem of her robes, she thought for a brief moment. "It's been a bit boring, really. But fine though. How have you been doing? I haven't seen you much at all."
Harry was unsure of how much to tell her. Could he trust her? His trust had waned thin, but it could be worth the risk. Perhaps honesty was a good place to begin.
"Difficult. It's been rough," Harry admitted, "But it's also been good for me personally. Fleur's great, too."
He figured it wouldn't hurt to mention. The whole school knew of them the morning after the Yule Ball.
"Oh," she replied, "That's good, then." Ginny averted her eyes, playing with her bright red hair, before looking back to him and continuing.
"Ron still thinks you put your name in the Goblet of Fire."
"Do you think I did?" he asked.
"I don't know… It doesn't seem like something you'd do at all. Ron was saying with how you're acting now, it only proves it more. I'm not so sure, though."
Pleasantly surprised by her response, Harry raised his eyebrows. He couldn't exactly blame Ron for reading him that way now.
"I'm glad you don't accuse me of putting my name in. It means more than you think. Thank you."
A light blush suffused her cheeks at the praise. To Harry, it looked like Ginny was finally getting over her weirdly obsessive hero crush. She would've certainly fled by now otherwise.
"That's, uh-that's okay."
Unsure of which direction to take the conversation, he came to a decision. He liked the Weasleys well enough, Ron aside. He hoped Ron would come around eventually, and he resolved to at least give it a chance. It would set Harry on the right path, or so he hoped.
"Would you like to be friends?"
Eyes widening, she nodded.
"Yeah, sure."
"Great, I'll see you round then."
He held out his hand to her to shake, and she took it.
"See you," she said.
Releasing his hand, Ginny brushed past him and retreated down the corridor past the girls' bathroom.
It's a start, Harry thought as he made his way down to the entrance hall and out of the castle.
He desperately hoped Ginny wasn't still 'after him'. Harry just didn't see her like that. She would never have anything on Fleur. Plus, he wouldn't ever be able to forget her crush on 'The-Boy-Who-Lived'. Nor did he think she truly understood him.
Two familiar figures trudged up the cobbles towards him.
There wasn't any getting out of it now. It'd happened sooner than he'd thought, or even been ready for. Glancing longingly towards the Beauxbatons carriage near the forest, Harry prepared himself for what was to come.
"Ron. Hermione," he greeted as they neared.
"Um, hello," responded Hermione. Ron remained mute, adjusted his scarf as he was about to pass Harry, and Harry caught a glint near his chest.
"What's that?"
Ron stopped, finally meeting his eyes before they tracked down to his own robes. His face flushed as he realised what he wore. He seemed to have forgotten it was there. The badge changed once again from 'Support Cedric Diggory' to 'Potter Stinks' as Harry set eyes on it. It only twisted the knife deeper within him.
The renewed optimism he had for the Weasleys vanished. He suddenly felt quite cold.
"So you're going to side with Malfoy, is that it?" Harry questioned cautiously, doing his best to conceal and tamp down his simmering rage. The feeling gave him flashbacks to the spell he'd unleashed before Fleur had found him.
Ron hurried past, not looking back. Hermione gave him a sympathetic glance.
"Look, Harry, I'm really sorry, but-"
"No, Hermione," he interrupted, striding past. "Don't try to defend him, please."
"I'm sorry about before, too!" she quickly added.
Turning, he evaluated her. She seemed to be genuinely remorseful for what she'd done. Doing his best to swallow his own ego, he nodded.
It was not easy to banish the invasive thought that he could hold it over her, but he managed it.
"It's okay. Don't let it happen again, please."
Relief flooded her face, and she visibly sagged.
"Thank you," she mumbled, then glanced back towards the direction Ron had gone. "I'll see you soon."
Harry resumed his walk. I can forgive, but after all this, I won't forget soon.
Her concern for Ron even after he'd been called out by Harry for wearing the badge rubbed him the wrong way. Why did she even let him wear it? If she was truly still concerned for Harry, it wouldn't be that big of an ask to get Ron to not display his support against him, would it?
Once again, Harry opted to ask Fleur instead of coming to his own conclusion, as difficult as it was. Constant vigilance meant he should not be reliant on his immature thought process to determine what happened to the relationships he'd done such a poor job of maintaining.
The cool, empty feeling was beginning to become too much. A battle raged in his mind. Did he go and disturb Fleur? Would she be happy to see him, or should he let her focus?
He forced himself to direct his feet in the opposite direction, along the forest. It was a titanic effort. If she wanted to see him, she would. He wouldn't risk her final exam scores for his benefit – he couldn't put himself first here.
Fleur wasn't his mother, not that he'd ever had one, nor was she some sort of caretaker. Her parents would also arrive today, and he was sure she'd appreciate some alone time with them. Harry desperately did not want to come across as too needy. He was sure he'd scare her off.
His time spent in near-isolation, only seeing Fleur here and there, had at least been beneficial for his tournament preparation. The task didn't quite worry him, as he'd ensured he was as ready as he could be.
It'd taken discipline to go repeatedly swimming in the Black Lake with the Bubble-Head Charm applied, but he'd managed to bear the ice-cold waters. The murky depths weren't easily navigable, but Harry felt he had the basic layout memorised after just a few tours of the lake.
He could do better than third this time. He'd also see Fleur tomorrow.
The morning of the second task made previous days seem warm by comparison. It wasn't quite clear to him how they would even do the task if the lake was frozen over. After making sure he'd hidden his cloak and photo album away, Harry had decided to leave the fourth-year dorms early.
His boots crunched through the light layer of frost coating the corridors as he neared the entrance hall. Even if they could do the task today, it would be the polar opposite of enjoyable in an ironically literal sense. Students milled around in the entrance hall. He swept through them like a ghost, unnoticed.
The airy breeze that gusted over the grounds passed right through his winter cloak. Within a minute, the joints in his fingers protested any movement. A light layer of snow penetrated through any enchantments that had been laid to keep the path clear.
He saw tall stands around the base of the lake, not unlike those that had sat above the arena's walls for the first task. Only now, he hoped he didn't have to face a dragon. The stands were slowly filling with a bizarre mixture of students and adults. Harry chose to move towards the Champions' tent, this time hoping to avoid any journalists.
Just as he entered, his vision was completely obscured by white. For a split second, Harry was sure a Dementor had grabbed him, and that he was in the process of losing his soul. Warm hands on either side of his jaw encouraged him to relax, and he sank into it once he realised where he was.
The rosy scent completely consumed him, the sensations unlike anything else as he wound his arms around her lower back. He'd not seen her for a few days, and her desperation almost brought him to tears. It seemed like he didn't need to worry about being the needy one. The thought made Harry impossibly happy. Enough to regret the scarcity of their previous meetings.
One of her hands made its way down his neck to rest on his shoulder. She slowly pulled back, looking intently down at him. He felt as if the shimmering blue irises could see straight through him, through to his very soul. It does make sense in a way.
Realising the truth of his musings, the grin on his face slowly widened. Harry knew Fleur was fighting back laughter, perhaps at his dopey smile. She let her arms drape around his neck.
"Harry," she murmured, eyes crinkling as she stared down at him, "where have you been, you silly boy?"
The affection in her voice led to a little more of her accent slipping out than usual, the French lilt more noticeable than usual. Harry found he quite liked it. He wasn't sure what to say, though. Hundreds of unasked questions whirred through his mind.
"Uh… I thought you were busy?"
"Not that busy that I couldn't see you," she whispered, a frown forming, "what have you been doing?"
"Practicing for the task, studying," he replied in a low tone, unsure how much to tell her, "not too much."
Her brow furrowed.
"That is not the whole truth. We do not have the time now, but later? Is that okay?"
He nodded in reply.
"My parents are also here," she mentioned, a mischievous look returning to her features, "they would like to meet you afterwards."
All of his anxiety came rushing back, but he fought it down.
"I'd love to meet them."
A cough from deeper within the tent caused Fleur to jump off Harry, and he nearly lost his balance. She grinned at him, before taking his hand and leading him to the side. The now familiar group of Ministry officials stood at the back of the tent, a few murmuring to each other. Bagman was noticeably absent.
Barty Crouch Senior stepped forward, gesturing for the other two Champions to come forth. Krum received a hard pat on the back from Karkaroff, whilst Cedric parted from his parents.
"Champions!" he greeted, "Welcome to the second task of the Triwizard Tournament. Assuming you've not yet figured out the entirety of the clue, a hostage has been taken for each of you. You will have only an hour to find them within the Black Lake. Best of luck!"
Harry had absolutely no idea who they would have taken for him, but now he felt an intense responsibility to ensure they were safe. He felt a bit stupid at not thinking it would be a person. Fleur looked at him, a confused expression on her face.
"Who else could it be if you're here?" she asked, tightening her grip on his hand.
Looking up at her, he didn't know what to tell her, but her response made him undeniably happy. She didn't have any close friends here, nor back at Beauxbatons. Remembering what she'd said about her sister, he froze, the happy feeling fading.
"Do you know where your sister is?"
Her face drained of colour, this time her grip tightened on his hand. Painfully so.
"She was with my parents," Fleur whispered, her voice trembling, "they said she would be busy this morning."
Harry slowly rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, doing his best to calm her nerves. It was rare that he saw her in such a state.
He decided to take the initiative this time, not caring for the others in the room who were pacing around in the tent. Cautiously, he moved toward her and opened his arms. She melted into the gentle embrace, knees bending slightly, and he could feel her shaking.
Their height difference didn't make it easy, but he managed to tuck her head under his chin. Stroking her back lightly, Harry did his best to reassure her.
"We'll get her back, I promise," he whispered into the top of her head, "along with anyone else they've put down there. They'll be ok."
Although Fleur didn't verbally acknowledge him, Harry knew that she'd heard him. Her trembling reduced, and she leaned back slightly.
"Thank you," she murmured back, then left a lingering kiss on his cheek.
The heat from it spread through his body, and he felt all the more determined to live up to his promise.
A/N
Thanks heaps for your reviews, I love to read them. Glad that you guys enjoyed the last chapter.
I'm not one to spoil things, but '1529', I like the way you think. Otherwise, the story is open to reader interpretation, and that's how I mostly prefer it to be. Do let me know if you disagree.
P.S I think it goes without saying this is a firmly H/F story, there will be no hanky-panky. Unsure I could bring myself to write such a thing.
