Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or its universe.
A/N: Thought I'd give you guys an early release for the one year anniversary of The Shadow of Death. Enjoy!
Shoutouts: Thanks to x102reddragon, PotterWithABokken, and Kit Willow for their awesome beta work. Check out their stuff!
The Shadow of Death
Chapter 14: The Cracks Above
'Time changes all,' she thought with a huff, 'but everything stays the same.'
A month ago, she'd rejoiced in her victory over the stoic Harry Potter. Now, as she sat beside him with his "friends", she realised her victory had been shallow.
He'd met her terms to the letter.
Fleur bristled. He'd put in no effort beyond what'd been required of him. He'd allowed her to sit with him during meals and he'd attended all of their weekly meetings thus far.
But he'd only been physically present.
Fleur had hoped after their first meeting that he'd simply been nervous. She scoffed at her naivety.
He'd only appeased her.
The time of avoidance had passed, only to be replaced by cold indifference. But, even then, it was interesting. He showed a completely different side to his friends.
Fleur took in their smiling faces. They sat around him, content, while he pretended to care. It wasn't anything overt, merely twitches of his lips or a small spark in his eyes.
And with her? He'd been unresponsive, a spec of land in the centre of the sea. Pretending to care had been something he couldn't be bothered to do.
But he did it for them.
She scowled as Potter chuckled at something Longbottom had said. Granger slapped the blonde's shoulder and Corner laughed.
Luna, someone she'd been able to find no fault with, smiled at the small group. Satomi Miyake nudged Corner. She'd been a surprise addition to the group, a transfer student from Mahoutokoro in Iwo Jima.
Satomi had been sorted into Gryffindor and had become fast friends with Granger. The rest of the group had accepted her easily enough, just as they had with her.
"You're distracted." Luna's quiet voice brought her from her thoughts. Fleur looked around. None of the others had noticed. "Is your father pressuring you again?"
"'Ow did you-" Fleur shook her head. She'd not gotten used to Luna's oddities. "Non, I am just worried about zhe NEWTs."
It was a half-truth. She'd not heard from him in three weeks since she'd told him of her arrangement with Potter. But the worry that he'd start up again was always there.
"How's your sister handling you being here?" Granger smiled at her from across the table. "You mentioned last week that she was rather put out."
Fleur looked to her left. Potter had been drawn into conversation with Neville and Corner. Satomi looked at her from her spot across from them.
"It is hard being away from family." Satomi's solemn brown eyes bored into her own.
"She's mostly moved on from it," she replied. "She 'as 'er own friends at Beauxbatons. Right now she is jealous of moi for getting to date 'Arry."
Satomi looked at the subject of their conversation. The boys, as per usual, were lost in their own conversations. But Fleur noticed how Potter held back, hardly participating in the revelry.
"He is quite the catch." The Japanese witch's eyes locked onto her. "Your family must be happy to see their standing increase through this marriage."
Fleur held back a sigh. "Yes, zey are very 'appy."
"But you aren't." Fleur's eyes shot to Granger. The younger witch's face was set with a serious frown. "Sorry. It's none of my business, but I've… we've all noticed."
"It is…" Fleur's face scrunched. "Difficile, being betrothed to someone you 'ardly know. It will take time for us both to adjust."
Scowling, Granger slammed her fork on the table. The boys stopped their conversation to stare at her.
"It's all just so… barbaric!" Granger bristled and grit her teeth. "You're a person, not something to be bought by the highest bidder."
"That's just how our world works, Hermione." Neville raised his hands when the witch made to protest. "I'm not saying I agree with it, but it's an old tradition. It's seldom used anymore."
A disagreement broke out between the table's occupants, but Fleur didn't keep track of it. She looked at Potter. He stayed out of the argument as well, content to let it pass by while he ate.
She'd heard little of his thoughts on the matter. Her betrothed rarely let his thoughts or emotions be known, even amongst his group of friends. Least of all with her.
Fleur had known of the contract since she'd been a girl. It wasn't something she'd ever thought would happen. Not with him, at least. The possibility to be betrothed against her will had always been a certainty for her.
But she'd come to terms with it. Her mother had calmed her vitriol many years ago. She'd done it again last week when Fleur had written to her about Potter's distance.
The older woman had advised patience, but few Veela possessed such a trait. Her mother had learned it after several years of marriage. However, Fleur didn't want to model her relationship after her parents'.
Of course, Potter didn't make it any easier. She'd expressed her desire to meet with him more often. He'd shot her down, stating he had too many detentions with Umbridge.
Fleur knew better though. Now, though they sat close, he'd edge away from her at every opportunity.
Fleur sighed. 'I will find a way. I always do.'
"'Ave you noticed Professor Umbridge?" Potter stiffened beside her. "She 'as looked unwell lately."
Corner scoffed. "I think you meant to say she's daft. Keeps exploding over nothing. She can't even teach her class properly. Not that she ever did, mind you."
Granger's eyes shifted to Potter, her face set in a scowl.
"It is odd," Granger whispered. Her eyes never left Potter. "She can't control herself, but why? Professor Umbridge wouldn't have risen to be the Senior Undersecretary if she'd been insane."
Neville leaned in, the others following his example.
"I asked Gran about it last week," he whispered. "Apparently it was brought up in a school board meeting last week. They talked about having her removed. Lord Malfoy pulled some strings and had the motion blocked."
"Why'd he do that?!" Corner pounded his fist against the table. "All of us'd prefer if she got tossed out onto her fat arse."
"Language, Michael."
Luna giggled at Granger's reprimand.
"Malfoy fed them some tripe about Umbridge just being stressed." Neville shrugged and popped a rasher of bacon in his mouth. "Said something about her having three jobs and the stress getting to her."
"She would have been fired at Mahoutokoro," Satomi stated with an emphatic nod. "Her actions reflect poorly on Hogwarts. The Headmaster should have let her go at the beginning of the year."
"She never should've been hired to begin with." Corner swiped at a dollop of oatmeal on his lip. "She's a bloody loon."
"Enough." Potter's quiet command resonated around the table. Fleur arched her brow. "I would rather not talk about Umbridge while eating. I would like to keep my breakfast down.
Laughs broke out across the table, but Fleur's eyes remained glued on him. He'd not meant it as a joke, even if the others had taken his comment as one. They changed subjects, but Fleur didn't pay them any mind.
Potter was an enigma. Something had changed between them a month ago at the lake. He'd always been the least emotive and talkative of any of them, but the others deferred to him.
They gravitated to him, but Fleur didn't know why. Each of them were outcasts in their own way. Yet somehow he'd become the glue holding their group together. And he hated it.
'Can they not see it?' she thought. 'But why? What does he have to gain?'
Fleur was pulled from her thoughts by the morning post. Feathers fluttered and floated to the tables as owls dropped their burdens into the students' waiting hands.
Hedwig landed in front of Potter. A small smile crossed his face as he fed her bacon and stroked her feathers.
Jealousy struck a violent chord in her chest. A mere bird had the ability to bring down his indomitable walls when she couldn't.
The bird took off after a few moments with a barked prek. Fleur glared at Hedwig's retreating back.
Gasps around the Great Hall drew her attention. Fleur looked at Potter. His eyes were wide and his mouth hung open. Her eyes zipped to the paper.
Azkaban Disappears, Minister at a Loss to Explain
Rita Skeeter, Senior Daily Prophet Correspondent
It is with a heavy heart, dear readers, that I bring you this news. This reporter was making her rounds in the DMLE for a different story when she overheard a group of Aurors mention Azkaban's sudden disappearance. So I dug deeper to ensure our loyal readers would know of the events being hidden from them and what I found shocked me to the core.
The Head of the D.M.L.E, Amelia Bones, reported Azkaban's sudden disappearance to the Minister in a meeting I happened to overhear later that day. The Minister and Madam Bones were both at a loss to explain the high security prison's disappearance.
A prison guard, who shall remain unnamed, was the lone survivor of the raid against Azkaban. The raid occurred on the night of Samhain. The guard also reported that he had seen Bartemius Crouch Jr at the scene of the crime before he made his daring escape. Azkaban's whereabouts are currently unknown.
Several high profile prisoners have also been identified as having disappeared with the prison. Most notable among them are Augustus Rookwood, former Unspeakable, and Bellatrix LeStrange. Many readers will recall her innumerable atrocities. We here at The Prophet urge the readers to exercise caution should they encounter either of these individuals. They are likely armed and dangerous.
Minister Fudge and Madam Bones have thus far remained unavailable for comment. But we here at The Prophet, and likely all of you, would like to know just how one can lose a prison. We await their answer with bated breath.
Stay safe, dear readers.
"Well, it's more informative than the piece she did about Harry's return." Corner's joke fell flat.
"Skeeter is very well informed." Potter's eyes narrowed at the article. "I would like to know how she came across such information."
Granger huffed. "She's always in the know somehow. It was the same last year with the tournament. She's likely doing something highly illegal."
Luna reached her hand over the table and waved it in front of Neville's face. "Are you okay, Neville?"
He flinched as if struck. His words rumbled from his chest. "I'm not hungry anymore. I'll see you guys later."
They watched, quiet as mice, as their friend stood from the table and stomped out of the Great Hall. Whispers followed him out.
"What does zis mean for us?" Fleur looked back at the article. Ice seared her veins.
"Nothing, I reckon," Corner replied. He'd taken on a deathly pallor. "We're safe here at Hogwarts, but the Aurors'll have their hands full. What's got Neville so upset, you reckon?"
"I bet it's because Bellatr-"
Harry nodded his head toward the head table. "The Headmaster is making an announcement."
The hall fell silent as Dumbledore stood from his seat. His wrinkled, pale skin sagged beneath an unimaginable weight.
"I am sure most of you have seen today's paper." His voice echoed around the Great Hall without the need of magic. "And it is deeply upsetting. I am sure the Ministry will do everything in its power to see Azkaban reclaimed. However, it is during times such as these that we should band together."
Dumbledore paused as whispers broke out across the hall. He cleared his throat and silence fell over the room. Umbridge twitched, her eyes shimmering with malevolence.
"Dark times are approaching," he whispered. "But if we stand united we will be victorious. Division will only see us fall. The Ministry would have you believe Barty Crouch Junior was responsible for Azkaban's disappearance. I am certain he played a part, but I believe the true perpetrator to be Lord Volde-"
"ENOUGH!" Umbridge stood, her spasming face purple. She slammed her hands against the table. "I will not have any more of your fear mongering, Dumbledore. The Minister-"
Umbridge's mouth moved but no sound came out. She shot a hateful glare at McGonagall.
"Perhaps we'd best have this conversation in the staff room, Dolores." McGonagall looked out at the students. "Breakfast is over. No student is allowed out of the castle until the staff deems it safe to do so. Prefects, please see the students out."
Fleur stood, ignoring the prefects shouting over the din. Potter stared down at her.
"We can start our weekly session early," he whispered. "I would rather be done with it so I can go about my day."
Fleur bristled but nodded as she grasped his arm. He stiffened underneath her grip and they made their way to the exit.
The two broke off from the group at the base of the stairs and made their way to the astronomy tower. Their footfalls bounced off the old stone walls and portraits' mutters filled her ears.
"Public displays of affection are against the rules," a slimy voice called from down the empty hall. "I'll have you both in detention with Professor Umbridge, Potter."
Potter sighed and pulled from her grip before turning around. Malfoy's two trolls flanked him, smirks adorning their faces.
"You will find no 'affection' exists between us, Malfoy." Fleur scowled at his choice of words. "Is it against the High Inquisitor's rules for a wizard to properly escort his betrothed?"
She glared at the golden badge placed prominently above the prefect badge. Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad, mostly composed of Slytherins, had wreaked havoc on the student body.
"You think it matters what you say, Potter?" Malfoy's smug smirk sent waves of revulsion roiling through her stomach. "It's your word against mine. Who do you think Umbridge will believe?"
"You are merely using borrowed power on borrowed time," Fleur riposted. Malfoy's nostrils flared. "Umbridge won't last zhe year and you'll be impotent once more."
Malfoy bristled and his two goons drew their wands. " You'd best learn to respect your betters, creature."
"I'll respect my betters when I see zhem." She looked down her nose at him. "My family was already recognized as a noble 'ouse when yours was 'erding sheep in France."
"That is enough," Potter groused. "I have already wasted enough time. Go run to Umbridge, Malfoy. It does not make a difference to me."
Fleur glared at her betrothed as he guided them toward the Astronomy Tower's staircase. He didn't return her gaze.
"This isn't over, Potter!" Malfoy's voice echoed up the stairs. "I'll see the both of you in detention for the rest of the year."
"You didn't defend moi." Fleur's skin prickled under the castle's brittle air. "Why?"
"I did not feel the need," he replied.
Fleur waited for him to elaborate. He didn't.
"It's expected of you." The words shot from her mouth like sparks. "You are my betrothed."
Potter held the door open for her. She walked through and began casting warming charms and simple wards over the area in a practised routine.
What had once been her sanctuary, her safe haven, now held only bitterness and regret.
Potter conjured two chairs. He took his seat and looked at her expectantly.
"I have already told you that I do not care about your traditions." He gazed out over the grounds. "Or that we are to be married."
She turned her gaze toward the forest. The first hints of snow fluttered to the ground, glinting in the sparse sunlight. Barren trees danced in a gentle breeze as far as her eyes could see.
After several minutes, a sigh escaped the confines of her cold lips.
"Where did we leave off?" Her words broke the thick silence.
"You were going to tell me about your time at Beauxbatons." His stoic gaze bored into her.
Her heart dropped. 'This will be the same as all our other meetings.'
Memories of better times in Beauxbatons flooded her mind.
'Do I really wish to share such personal moments with him?' Fleur thought. 'He's put forth nothing despite my patience.'
She shook her head. How could she tell him of her life? Her relationship with her family? Her friends? Her harrowing transition from a small girl to a fully grown Veela?
Fleur's stomach tossed and her eyes turned to the stoney floor. 'He wouldn't care.'
"I've already spoken quite a bit about myself," she said. "I'd rather 'ear about your life growing up."
Potter's cold eyes, suddenly the same as her father's, turned to her..
"There is little to say." He shifted to stare across the grounds. "I grew up in the States with muggles, privately tutored. That is all you need to know."
"I 'ave already 'eard all zhose zhings from zhe other students." Fleur reached out and forced his gaze back to her. He flinched back, eyes narrow. "And it is important to moi to 'ear more about you!"
"You keep saying that." Potter waved his hand. "But I see no need. I agreed to meet with you, but not to tell you about my life. Besides, once we marry we will not need to see one another."
"But zhat is not what I want!" Fleur shot to her feet, towering over his seated form. Sparks crackled at her fingertips. "I want an actual marriage. If we are to marry zhen I want you to be someone I can grow to love and love me in turn."
Fleur covered her mouth, her eyes wide. She cursed herself.
Potter let out a humourless chuckle.
"A spoiled brat." He stood to his feet and met her gaze. "Let me be clear, Princess. I do not care about what you want. This was forced on me, and I will never be that person."
She flinched as if struck. Fleur's heart sank into her stomach. His face melted, churned, and slowly reformed to that of her father's.
Her dreams scattered as ash at her feet. She'd been doomed to live her mother's life.
'No,' she thought. 'I won't allow it!'
Fire swept through her veins, stifling the cold wind beating against her.
"You 'ave as much say in zhis as I do," she countered. "I will never stop until I get what I want, 'Arry Potter. Zhus far I've put in all zhe effort. You will do zhe same."
He sneered. "You think so? Putting in any effort would be a waste of my time."
"And why is zhat?" Fleur stamped down against the feathers prickling at her skin.
"Because," he said, indicating her with his hand, "you will never be what I want, Veela."
Potter spat the word like a curse. She opened her mouth to speak but he pressed on.
"I hate your kind for what they have done, for what they represent," he hissed. "What the Veela have done to us is unforgivable."
She stepped back at his slow advance.
'What we've done to them?' His words took her aback. 'What have we done to British wizards? Or American wizards?'
His shadow covered her. Snow fell in light waves between them. Ice filled her stomach.
"I would rather marry a troll than a Veela."
Her skin crawled and ash coated her tongue. Fleur's heart hammered against her ribs. Fire scorched the ice that filled her.
"Is zhat so?" Danger suffused her words and he nodded. "Zhen I see no reason to converse furzer wiz a pig. Do not speak to me again."
Tears stung the corners of her eyes as she fled the tower. His gaze weighed on her shoulders the entire way.
The halls were empty, save for a few roaming ghosts. The students were still at dinner. A part of him almost longed to go back. Harry ignored the feeling.
He shook his head, his mind replaying Longbottom and Luna's offer by the lake a month prior. He still had not accepted or denied it.
'I am weak,' he thought as he passed by two arguing portraits. 'I should just deny them and be done with it. I cannot afford distractions.'
But he could not. As annoying as they were, a small part of him enjoyed their company. The group, discounting Granger and Corner, were not like the others.
They were like him, in a manner of speaking.
Harry growled under his breath.
'I need to speak to him.' The thought had become more common of late. 'But I will not be allowed back easily. Perhaps during the holidays.'
Shaking his head, Harry continued down the shadowed hall of the third floor.
Thankfully, Delcour had taken to sitting by herself. Longbottom had asked him about it and he had dismissed it. Luna had only given him a knowing look and shook her head.
He understood her point on an intellectual level, but her emotions had confused him. Yet, for some reason it weighed on him.
"You're late, Potter."
Harry looked up. Umbridge sat at her desk, her venomous eyes fixated on him. Her brow twitched and her hands were clenched on the desk.
The blood quill on his usual desk was absent.
"My apologies, Professor." Harry took his seat.
Umbridge's face was hewn from stone as she approached his desk.
"Mister Malfoy was here earlier." She ran a finger down her wand as she stalked around his desk. "I see that you have no problems breaking the rules, Potter. He had some interesting things to say about you and your… betrothed."
"Perhaps your sight is not what you think, Professor." Harry's hands twitched against his thighs.. "I have broken no rules."
"My sight is clearer than it's ever been!" Umbridge slammed her hands on the desk.
He looked up at her. Her twitching face was shadowed and her chest heaved. Umbridge's normally immaculate hair hung over her face in matted strands. Her wild eyes shimmered in the dark.
And her stutter had disappeared.
"I see you, Potter." She chuckled mirthlessly. "Oh yes. You've fooled those around you, but I see you for what you really are."
There was a knock at the door. She ignored it.
"And that is, Professor?" Harry's tone was calm but his heart thundered in anticipation.
"You're dangerous," she whispered into his ear, "far more than you let on. You're an actor, a spy for Dumbledore. You seek to overthrow the Ministry with him."
'She has no idea how close to the truth she really is.'
Harry snorted.
"That is ludicrous, Professor." Harry looked up into her crazed eyes. "I am a student, nothing more."
"Lies," Umbridged hissed. Fire crackled behind her. She slammed a piece of parchment on his desk. "This proves your guilt."
Harry looked down at the parchment.
Dumbledore's Army
The group had only been whispered about but he had heard of it. It had been foolish for such a group to be formed under Umbridge's watch.
"My name is not listed," he replied. "I have never heard of this group."
"No, it wouldn't be, would it?" Umbridge's eyes were manic, her smile crooked. "You're far too smart for that and Dumbledore wouldn't allow his pawn to be so easily discovered. But I am smarter than he is."
Umbridge tittered. More hair escaped their clips to cover her face.
"Granger started this group under your command. See here?" She pointed to the name at the top. "Your name isn't listed but I've seen you plotting with her at meal times. You've started training a student army to overthrow the Minister, admit it!"
"I have done no such thing." Harry suppressed a smirk. "Granger never mentioned this group to me. Had she done so, I would have warned her against it. But a student army, Professor? Outrageous."
Nostrils flaring, Umbridge thundered, "LIES! You're a miscreant, a treasonous bastard spawned from filthy blood."
Muscles and tendons strained against her neck. Umbridge's forehead pulsed and turned a sickly purple. Her hot, foetid breath beat against his cheek.
"Dumbledore has been using rumours of You-Know-Who's return to incite fear in the students," she spat. "And you've used it to recruit an army. How much of Dumbledore's plan do you know?
"I have heard nothing of the sort, Professor."
Umbridge stared down at him, her furious expression melting away. She began to chuckle. It devolved into deranged cackles. The professor pulled her wand.
"I know you know, Potter, but I've just the thing to loosen your tongue." Umbridge cocked her head, a wicked gleam in her eyes. "CRUCIO!"
He watched the spell shoot from her wand and did not move.
'This is it,' he thought as the red spell drew near. 'This is her end.'
And his world was set aflame. Harry was adrift in a fiery sea of her hatred as knives pierced his skin and his organs. His muscles seized and strained as familiar flame washed over him.
It was not as painful as his previous master's, but even a weak Cruciatus Curse was not a pleasant experience.
Harry's eyes rolled back in his head. He heard her mad cackles over the sound of his teeth cracking. Pain consumed his world.
He could not think and his every breath was agony.
Harry could not fathom how long he was held under the spell. It could have been seconds, minutes, or even hours. All that mattered was that he endured the pain.
And he did not so much as squeak.
An explosion and a gasp reached his ears. The pain subsided and his world went black.