Warning!: I'm going to see my grandmother for the first time in nearly three years, so next chapter is being postponed until Tuesday or Wednesday. But considering there is only a couple of chapters left that's still a story finished in three weeks :D

Dark Mark: Snape and Lucius are cleared by the law, Crouch's edict can't apply to them because it is already known and absolved. In a declaration of war, people typically don't include the caveats but that doesn't mean they are not there.

Chapter 13 - Let it Snow

Harry felt guilty for being happy.

And Merlin help him, but he was happy. He hadn't realized how much energy it had taken to keep lying to all his friends.

It also relieved some of the guilt he felt remaining friends with George and Freds, even Charlie who was so far away.

They were all orphans now, and McGonagall had adopted the twins and Harry, so in a way they were more brothers now than had ever been. The Weasleys had been his family, and the twins had made themselves very clear on it being Voldemort's actions, not Harry's.

Did Harry still believe that if the Weasleys hadn't been friends with him, they wouldn't have come to such pain? Of course he did, but it hadn't been his fault that Weasleys had joined the Order of the Phoenix, nor that Voldemort was targeting Hogwarts. Like Harry, the Weasleys, aside from Ron and Ginny who had honestly been lost too young, they would have stood between Voldemort and other innocents.

Just because Harry had loved them didn't mean their deaths out weighed the thousands of other potential victims.

Professor McGonagall was, admittedly, a lot more helpful when it came to these subjects, compared to Snape who was as willing to blame himself as much Harry was.

Of course, all of that wasn't what was making him happy. His friends and the support he was being given was what was allowing him to be happy.

The person making him glad to wake up each morning was Fleur Delacour. The way she looked at him made him feel like himself in a way no one else was able to. Fleur had too much fire to pity him. Where his own temper had burnt itself out when he walked into that clearing and allowed death to have him.

A temper that had further banked when he woke, realizing who had more to die for than live for.

But with Fleur? She made life worth living, the fight worth fighting.

Despite every odd being against him, despite the tag Voldemort had burned into his very skin, he had hope again.

Which as dangerous as that felt, having hope felt brave. Perhaps made him feel more himself than he had all year.

Harry caught Fleur's hand as they were released from their last class. Public displays of affection weren't really his thing, but they had found that Harry acted as a complete bucket of water to anyone watching them.

Fleur's allure tended to make people either want her or hate her, and for the person she was with, either murder levels of jealousy or disgust for being 'taken over'.

Harry, however, was apparently famous enough in his own right yet damaged enough to be off putting that with the sole exception of Draco Malfoy, Harry and Fleur being together confused the bloody hell out of everyone and no one was exactly 'jealous of the Boy Who Lived' at the start of another war.

Except, of course for Draco.

Harry remembered how girls had fawned over him in his sixth year, but things were dramatically different now for a number of reasons. First, he wasn't the 'Chosen One' just the kid who had survived the Killing Curse and had miraculously survived being toasted by a horntail and more or less attacked by Albus Dumbledore. No one really envied him for, especially as the first had orphaned him and Voldemort's return had harkened his largest allies, the Weasley Family to being targeted and nearly wiped out in a single day. And lastly, he was a scrawny fourteen year old whose two most identifiable features were his glasses and scars.

For all those reasons that were well known and public, Harry being with the most beautiful girl in the school was mind boggling.

Fleur found everyone's confusion hilarious and went out of her way to hang over him, ruffle his hair, and kiss his cheeks. He had drawn the line about actually snogging in front of an audience. Their first kiss aside, it wasn't his thing.

"You're thinking too much," Fleur said, pressing her cheek to his.

Harry, who still held her hand in his, tugged her into an alcove. She made a soft exclamation as he tugged her against, his back to the stone.

She bent to kiss him.

He didn't mind the height difference too much, in heels she would always be taller than him, but after his growth spurt, he would have 3cm on her in flats.

Small victories, and he let her tease him about the height difference so he could tease her back for the rest of forever.

Was it foolish of him to be planning for a future with her.

Probably.

But he didn't care to keep his expectations reasonable when it came to Fleur.

When he was younger, he had never planned, nor truly been able to imagine a life beyond Hogwarts.

Wanting to be an Auoror hadn't been an ambitious, just an option he wanted open to him.

But a life, a future, a family, those are things he had never imagined with Ginny, not something he ever discussed with anyone.

Not Ron.

Not Hermione.

Not even Sirius who he exchanged weekly letters with now.

But Fleur made him dream, made him want things that he hadn't ever believed he deserved.

Wanting a family had been stomped on when Sirius died and had been thrown out the window when the war started.

Harry understood why people had sex during wartimes. One hundred percent understood the need to be held and hold, to let the fear and anger go, put aside, forgotten in act that only the living could do and share.

But he had never understood having children during war times.

Remus and Nymphadora leaving behind their son had been a hard reminder of that lesson.

Of course, had Harry survived the war, he would have done everything humanly possible to be there for Teddy, his godson.

But he hadn't understood bringing an innocent into such uncertain time where orphaning a child was an all too real possibility.

Yet as Fleur leaned into him, his arms around her, her hands cupping his face as if he were someone precious, something to be savoured, he finally understood his mother and father.

Finally had an answer for why he had been brought into this world. Harry by no means was ready for that right now, nor did he even think he and Fleur were ready to be engaged and living with each other.

But someday, in some future where these dark times were but a memory, a family was hope. A promise to the future that even if they didn't get see, knowing that he had tried and never given up on the dream of a better tomorrow.

When all the world was crumbling around them and nothing but rain shrouded the horizon, to love was to live.

Love is what made them human and life worth living.

Fleur pulled back from him, looking down, "Qu'est-ce que c'est?"

He smiled, "I love you."

Her returning smile was heartbreaking, "Je t'aime, Monsieur Potter, je t'aime, mon 'Arry."

Their next kiss drove all thought from his mind as he was remade beneath her touch.

Harry wasn't sure how long had passed, when he heard someone clear their throat behind them.

Fleur broke the kiss and turned so they looked at the intruder together.

Snape was glaring at them both.

Harry smiled at him, "Professor."

Snape rolled his eyes, "We need to speak."

Harry raised a brow, "Bout what?"

"Your potions grades. They are dismal," Snape said tartly before turning a swirl of cloaks.

"Tu l'es aussi," Fleur said.

"Five points from Slytherin, Ms. Delacour," Snape said without looking back.

Harry coughed and she shook her head, kissing his cheek before pushing him after the old bat.

His jovial mood died as his Dark Mark burned as if bitten by a few hundred fire ants. He hissed under his breath once he caught up to the Potion's Master, "How the bloody hell did you sign up for this willing?"

Snape didn't spare him a glance as he went to his office and slammed the door to slam shut after Harry.

"Do you have to go to him?" Harry asked.

"If I had to go to him," Snape said, "It wouldn't just sting, it would burn."

Harry grimaced, "He's calling me then."

"It would be worse if you went to him."

Harry snorted, "I'm going to start calling you Professor Obvious."

Snape spun on him, "Crouch Jr. was in this school for months. The Dark Lord is planning something."

"No shit," Harry said transifiguring a pitcher of water on Snape's desk into an ice pack. He rolled up his sleeve and sighed as the ice cooled his skin. He collapsed into a seat.

"This is no laughing matter," Snape snarled.

"Do I look like I'm laughing?" Harry asked with a grimace.

"The final task is a prime-"

"I get it!" Harry exclaimed, "I've been training, nearly non-stop."

"Nearly," he said derisively.

"Wasn't it you who said I needed to find my place?"

Snape shoved everything off his desk.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Harry demanded.

Snape didn't answer at first, before saying, "You, the twin menses, and the McGonagalls will be spending the summer with your mongrel of a godfather."

It took Harry a moment to translate the dour man's unusual moroseness, "He's at the Malfoys again, isn't he? You're worried about Draco, your own godson."

Snape looked up at him, "He has no protection."

"You know why Lucius is-"

"Yes, you told me," Snape interrupted, "But that doesn't exactly give me many options to protect him once and if we make it through the school year."

"Well, the Final Task is tomorrow," Harry said, "Fleur, Viktor, and I have each other's backs, so you can stop worrying about me for now."

"Have you decided who wins?" Snape asked drily.

Harry shrugged, "Viktor, he beat Fleur last night jin rummer."

Snape looked up at him, "A card game? Did you even last a round, Potter?"

"I already won this tournament, I didn't enjoy my prize and I had a decided advantage. So I let them work it out."

"Advantage?" Snape scoffed, "Your dragon broke its chain."

"She," Harry corrected, "didn't want to be there anymore than I did."

"Empathy for a lizard that nearly roasted you but not a fellow classmate?"

"How can you hate me for supposedly being like my father, but like Draco?" Harry asked, "He's the rich boy with money and popularity."

"Draco isn't popular," Snape said, "he only has friends because his father is the highest ranked Death Eater not in prison."

Harry tilted his head, relaxing as the burning eased, "How's that working out for him now?"

"Crabbe and Goyle are too moronic to know the power scales have changed, but the rest of his classmates have given him a wide berth."

Harry sighed, "If it wasn't for Draco, I would have been in Slytherin."

Snape pressed a hand to his temple, "Where you would likely have had your throat slit in your sleep."

"Cool," Harry said, "But forgive me if I don't consider it a life debt after all the other shit he's put me through."

"Your magic has been more controlled of late," Snape noted.

"Fleur," Harry said, "What I have with her is more than I have ever had with anyone else."

"You're older," Snape said, "not that young love isn't real, but you know the value of it now."

Harry shook his head, "It's not that. It's like the difference between being with someone because you think you like versus being with someone you fell in love with."

Snape's only answer to that was, "Stay here tonight." He tossed Harry a vial. "Drink it, you need a sound night's sleep without dreams."

"Without nightmares, you mean."

Snape sighed, transforming the couch into a bed, "Is there a difference?"

Harry didn't answer, just kicked off his shoes and uncorked the vial, "One day, Snape, the war will end."

The Potions Master paused before exiting, "I don't imagine, Potter, that I will live to see it."

"I hope you do," Harry said, "I'm not exactly drowning in friends that I have any interest in losing anymore."

Snape looked back at him, his onyx eyes unreadable before he left Harry in the empty study.

Harry fell back against the bed, the burning in his arm faded as the potion ran its course.

Harry felt his heart pound as the Dumbledore gave the all clear. The crowd was more subdued this time and Harry was grateful to not be alone.

Fluer burned through two of the bushes so she and Viktor could join them. Snape had assured him the cup wasn't spelled this time.

But of course that all went to shit when they didn't kill the owl.

Harry didn't even regret that, but he did regret not shielding against the bag it dropped on them in time. A plume of white powder snowed down upon them.

He, Viktor, and Fleur began coughing, the following effects were near instantaneousness.

Viktor was the first to start laughing, Fleur joined him with belly laughs.

Harry wasn't laughing, he felt sick as his magic swell inside. Physically, he felt as if he had never been stronger, but stronger was not what his magic needed. It was all he could do to keep the magic in control.

A blast ended skrewt came around the corner and Harry obliterated quicker than the eye could follow.

The rest of a maze was joke, until it wasn't, until the feeling of euphoria grew dizzying and his vision began to blur.

"Harry!"

Harry spun, realizing he was alone, alone and lost in the maze.

"Fleur!" Harry yelled.

The magic in his gut churned like the sea when the moon was high and the clouds dark. It increased his sense of vertigo.

"Fleur!"

"Arry!" she called back from too far away.

How had they become so lost?

He began to run, his senses lighting up and he felt like…

He felt like the wind, and his panic felt like lightning.

"Fleur!"

"Aide-moi! Aide-moi, mon 'Arry!"

The maze stretched on and on, Fleur's voice tumbling in his mind. He was lost and he couldn't get to her.

He couldn't lose her. He loved her damnit, he couldn't lose her!

Harry finally reached the edge of the maze, "Fleur!"

Her silver and gold hair had fallen from its weave, tears streaked her cheeks, and Voldemort had her by the neck.

Why wasn't Fleur fighting him, had he tortured her?

Harry couldn't do anything to the bastard who had regained his youth, his power, and some piece of his sanity that made him more dangerous than he was before.

"Harry Potter, I do believe a trade is in order," Voldemort crooned, his wand dimpling into her cheek.

His magic pushed against his bounds, "How do I know the moment you let her go you won't kill us both?"

"An excellent notion, but I give you my word, Harry, come to me and I will let her go."

Harry felt dizzy still, but he tried to tell her with his eyes that the minute he let her go, she should run. Harry didn't even know how Voldemort had gotten onto Hogwarts grounds but it didn't matter now.

Harry flipped his wand in his hand, ready to toss it.

Voldemort threw Fleur to the side as Harry tossed his wand, sweeping his arm out sending a wind more powerful than he had ever summoned before.

Harry blinked several times, trying to clear his head, as both Fleur and Voldemort disappeared as if they had never been there.

The hedges fell away, and Harry found himself uncomprehendingly in the Forbidden Forest.

Exactly where he had stood last time when facing his death.

"I can't believe you fell for that again, Harry Potter," Voldemort hissed behind him.

Harry spun.

Fleur wasn't here.

Voldemort had tricked him again.

It was just like the Department of Mysteries.

It wasn't the Dark Lord who had gotten into Hogwarts, it was Harry who had left.

"I don't need to enter the castle," Voldemort taunted him, "When I'm already in your mind."

Harry was too disoriented to fight, so he ran.

Apparating brought him to his knees as nausea overwhelmed him.

His Dark Mark burned.

Voldemort apparated without sound, but Harry felt his presence nonetheless.

"You really ought to have learned Occlumency."

Snape had said the same, but Harry had nearly killed them both when Snape last tried to breach his mind.

Harry apparated again, this time to the centre of wizarding London. The nausea turned into pain, his head pounded, his vision darkened, and his arm burned as if it were being branded.

When Voldemort's hand closed around his nape and he was forced to disapparate a third time, he surrendered to unconsciousness.

AN: Yeah, I'm a terrible person, but consider this, an Asian tiger snake is both poisonous and venomous. Thoughts and feedback on the chapter please?