"Stella's with Marl," Sirius panted, rearing up out of his dog form; he'd Flooed into his office in the castle and then run the whole way here.
"Dora's on her way home, anyway."
"Great. Now what the bloody hell is going on?!" Remus, who was waiting on the steps to the Beauxbatons carriage, shook his head:
"I have no idea," he said.
"But Harry's here?" Sirius hadn't even known he'd left the house until Remus' patronus burst into the library.
"Oh, yes, Harry's here," Remus agreed, with a disbelieving laugh.
"He's not hurt, though?" Sirius asked, following him into the carriage. "Your patronus only said Harry was here and to get here as soon as I could, but you'd have said if-"
"A couple of bruises," Remus said with that same disbelieving laugh, like he knew something Sirius didn't. "And he was looking very sheepish last I saw, but no, he's fine."
"Was he coming to speak to you about the article-" That sort of seemed like something Harry would do. "-or-"
"Ah, not me, no," Remus said. "But he did pay Fleur a visit."
"Fleur?" Sirius repeated, baffled. "You're being very vague-"
"That's because I have absolutely no idea what's going on," Remus replied, grimacing. "I haven't even had a chance to speak to- Oi! Retourne te coucher!" There was a squeak and a curse and two or three doors along the hallway clicked shut. Sirius could hear hasty footsteps on the other side of them.
Remus led the way up a handsome wooden staircase and then knocked twice on a thick door.
"Entre," Madame Maxime said, and Remus opened the door.
"Monsieur Black, Madame," Remus said, leading the way inside. "Le Directuer Dumbledore est en route."
"Evening," Sirius said.
Madame Maxime sat in an enormous winged chair behind an enormous desk. Before her sat Harry and Fleur. The latter remained straight-backed and facing her headmistress, but Harry's shoulders hunched and he glanced over his shoulder at the pair of them. Sirius raised an eyebrow and Harry grimaced, face bright red. Sirius gave him an imploring look, and Harry gave a little shrug, spinning further around, which gave Sirius a look at his neck- Sirius' mouth fell open and he stared at Harry, then with utter disbelief at the back of Fleur's head. Harry - if possible - went an even darker shade of red and sank about three inches in his chair.
"I told you," Remus muttered, patting Sirius on the shoulder as he took a seat. Sirius couldn't even think of anything to say, so he shut his mouth and conjured himself a chair near Harry's.
Fleur glanced over at Harry once, expression inscrutable, and scent so complex Sirius couldn't hope to decipher it. Harry set his jaw, and though he was still red faced, straightened in his chair, embarrassment turning to an embarrassed sort of defiance. Fleur looked a little amused, then went back to staring down her headmistress.
Dumbledore arrived with McGonagall in tow a few moments later, both looking as baffled as Sirius, and then Madame Maxime flicked her wand at the door, closing it.
"I found zis boy," she said, jabbing a large, ringed finger at Harry, who lifted his chin in response, "in my student's dormitory tonight." Sirius blinked, Remus closed his eyes and looked very tired indeed, and both Dumbledore and McGonagall stared at Harry, lost. "'E 'as come uninvited into my school, into my Champions' private room for unscrupulous purposes-"
"Now hang on," Sirius said, frowning, and Maxime cut off, eyes flashing, "I'm not saying Harry's innocent here, because he obviously did come here, but he didn't put those-" He nodded at Harry's neck. "-on himself."
"Perhaps," Madame Maxime said, nostrils flaring, "but I struggle to understand why." She turned the full force of her gaze onto Fleur. "'E is your competitor and 'e is younger!"
"Oui," Fleur said, shrinking just a little.
"Tu n'aimes pas ce garçon," Madame Maxime added, half telling, half pleading. Remus coughed - Sirius thought it was to hide a laugh, and Dumbledore's beard had certainly twitched. "Tu me l'as dit!" Fleur just shrugged and Madam Maxime threw her hands in the air.
"I- must say I agree," Remus said, giving Harry an apologetic look before focusing on Fleur. "This is very... unexpected. For both of you, actually."
"Bloody right," Sirius muttered. He caught Harry's eye. "What's going on? Because frankly, I have no idea what's happening."
"I wanted to tell you," Harry mumbled, and Sirius sniffed the air. He knew Remus was doing the same, and he knew from the slight narrowing of Harry's eyes that Harry knew it too. "There just wasn't a good time."
He wasn't lying; Sirius caught Remus' eye, bewildered.
Maxime was right; Fleur and Harry were competitors, and she'd made it no secret she thought he was young. Harry, likewise, didn't seem to like her much - not because of the Tournament, but because of all the snide comments about his age. Surely Sirius would have noticed because Harry wasn't good at subtle, or surely one of Harry's friends would have hinted at it, teased him about it… Surely Harry would have told him… Why wouldn't Harry have told him?
But if it wasn't real, then why in Merlin's name was Harry's neck sporting two large love bites - one would have been enough to make it look convincing - and why were they both pretending it was? This would be all over the papers as soon as Skeeter got wind of it - star-crossed Champions, or some rubbish like- Oh.
"So this isn't a joke?" Sirius asked cautiously, and once again looking only at Harry. He flicked his wand and a silencing charm settled itself over the walls. "Or… say, a publicity stunt that you're hoping will distract everyone?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Eet did not look like a stunt to me!" Maxime said, but McGonagall was looking at Harry with narrowed eyes, and Remus was staring at Sirius.
"Oh," Remus said, very softly. "You didn't." He didn't seem to know whether to look at Harry or at Fleur.
"You caught us," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "I really wanted to be caught in Fleur's room and then have to sit here with my family and my Head of House and my Headmaster and the Beauxbatons headmistress and talk about things that, frankly, aren't anyone else's business." He was red-faced again, and kept trying to tug his jumper up to cover his neck; it wasn't working at all.
Sirius exchanged another look with Remus, uncertain.
"'Ow long 'as zis... frivolity been going on?" Madame Maxime asked imperiously.
"'As 'arry said, zat is not really your business," Fleur said, folding her arms.
"Eet is when eet 'as been happening under my roof," Maxime snapped.
"So punish us," Fleur said, with a toss of her head. "And zen be done with eet. Eet is late, and I want to go to bed." Student and headmistress stared each other down, and then Maxime sighed.
"Directuer?" Maxime asked.
"I'm afraid Harry's punishment sits with Sirius," Dumbledore said, "as Harry is currently on holidays and not meant to be at Hogwarts at all."
"Though rest assured," McGonagall said, "that when term does resume, this behaviour will not be tolerated-"
"Dating won't be tolerated?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows.
"Sneaking around late at night will not be tolerated," McGonagall replied smartly and Harry shrank a little. "Nor will male students being in female students' bedrooms unsupervised. Or the reverse," she added, giving Fleur a warning look. Fleur looked unimpressed.
"Last chance," Sirius said to Harry, "to admit it if this isn't what it looks like." He waited. "There are silencing charms up in here, and I'd say all of us have your best interests at heart…"
And Merlin, that made him think back to last Easter, when Draco had mentioned Harry and Ginny were upstairs practicing silencing charms and Sirius had worried there might be something going on, but in hindsight, this was much, much worse; Harry sneaking around to date a seventeen year old that Sirius didn't really know - except that Moony liked her and that she was a Champion and that she was part-veela (and, judging by the state of Harry's neck, maybe also part-vampire) - was much, much worse. It was the sort of reckless stupidity that Sirius would expect from a normal teenager, but not really from Harry; between Voldemort and the prophecy and the Tournament, Harry was usually too busy trying to stay alive to have time to be a stupid teenager.
"Bugger," Sirius said, when neither Harry or Fleur said anything. "So that means… punishment. Right." McGonagall and Maxime both looked exasperated, but Dumbledore looked entertained and Remus looked wryly amused.
What would James have thought? Sirius wondered. Doubtless he'd have been a little bit proud, a little bit disapproving (though probably only on principle) and a lot amused… which, was more or less how Sirius felt. Lily would probably have shouted for a bit, then been all excited and curious about Fleur. That was, if this whole thing was real; if it was a stunt (and Sirius thought that was still entirely possible, if only because the idea of Harry and Fleur as Harry-and-Fleur was one that he was struggling to wrap his head around), they'd probably both roll their eyes in a proud sort of way.
Not Lily and James then, Sirius thought, and then inspiration struck: What would Molly do? And then, Sirius smiled. Harry's expression of amused trepidation faded. Let's find out, he thought.
"No one's healing those." He nodded at Harry's neck. "You're going to live with them until they fade, and speaking from my own teenage experience, that'll be at least a week. It'll be a fun talking point at the Burrow on Christmas, eh?" Harry's surprised confusion warped into absolute horror and it wasn't put on; his scent matched. Fleur looked at Sirius, lip curled.
Sirius caught Remus' eye again; Harry's friends didn't know, and there was surely no way that he would or could keep something like this a secret from them... Surely.
"We will be speaking to your parents tomorrow," Maxime said to Fleur, who paled slightly. "And you will not be going to 'ogsmeade with ze rest ze day after Christmas." Fleur's face fell at that, and Harry shifted guiltily beside her.
"Fine," Fleur said stiffly, after a moment. "May I go, now?" Maxime considered her for a long moment, then waved a hand in dismissal. Fleur stood, dignified even in pyjamas, and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Good luck at ze Burrow," she said to Harry, and though her face was perfectly blank, her scent was amused. Harry obviously smelled it too, because he pulled a face at her. She blew him a kiss and strode out.
Harry let out a gusty breath and ran a hand through his hair.
"I reckon that's our cue as well," Sirius said, standing, and giving Harry's shoulder a nudge. "Come on, Romeo-"
"Actually," Maxime said, "I would speak with you all a leetle longer, Monsieur Black, and you as well, Remus, Directuer."
"Come along, then, Potter," McGonagall said. "Shall I send him home, Black, or have him wait in your office?" She eyed Harry. "Or I can supervise him in my office, if-"
"Nah, he can floo home from my office," Sirius said, and then looked at Harry. "I'll see you when I get home."
A very reluctant Harry trailed out after McGonagall, and once the door shut behind them, Remus buried his head in his hands and made a sound that was half laugh, half groan.
"Oui," Maxime said, looking very tired.
"It's fake, right?" Remus said. Dumbledore and Maxime both looked curiously at Sirius.
"I'm about sixty percent sure?" Sirius replied, rubbing a hand over his chin.
"Sixty?" Remus asked, looking up.
"Is Harry the sort of kid that'd sneak around with a secret, older girlfriend that no one - not me, and not any of his friends, if his reaction to me mentioning Christmas is anything to go by - knows about? I don't think so. But is he the sort of kid who'd do anything to protect the people he cares about, even if it's not going to end well for him…? Absolutely. I've got bloody case studies, if you want them."
"So why only sixty then, Sirius?" Dumbledore asked.
"Because I don't know Fleur," he replied, then kicked Remus' foot. "What do you think - you know them both."
"I agree that it's exactly the sort of thing Harry would do," Remus said. "But it's harder to say with Fleur. She might be the sort to keep a relationship secret under certain circumstances… if she thought the news that she and Harry were dating would lead to people remembering her as a Champion's girlfriend instead of as a Champion in her own right… that might do it. I don't know. I do know she wouldn't come up with pretending to date someone to deflect attention from another story though. She'd be more likely to put on a brave face and think of some way to get back at Skeeter-"
"I'd sort of assumed this was Harry's idea, anyway," Sirius said ruefully. Dumbledore's beard twitched. "But Fleur'd be willing to go along with it… make it convincing?"
"No to the first, yes to the second," Remus said. He and Maxime shared a look.
"Fleur is vairy independent," Maxime said, sounding both proud and tired. "But she is not one to do things 'alfway." She frowned. "And we are getting nowhere with zis. Maybe eet is real, maybe is is not-"
"Does it matter?" Dumbledore asked.
"Oui," Maxime said emphatically.
"I'm afraid I disagree," Dumbledore said, stroking his beard, "because our response to this, as educators and caregivers and guardians is the same, regardless of whether it is or isn't."
"Zat makes no sense-"
"We will be vigilant-" Sirius caught Remus' eye and smirked, sure they were both thinking of Mad-Eye. "-where we can be to limit their time alone together in private places like dormitories. If this is real, then that is the responsible thing to do, given Harry's age, and the fact that they are both students in our respective care. If it is not real, then we ought to do this anyway to ensure our response looks genuine enough to support their farce, but also because they are likely to continue to get up to mischief behind closed doors - to enable them continue to look convincing, or perhaps for a bit of fun-"
"If they were doing that, then they would be dating-"
"Actually, as I understand it, the physical and the emotional do not always go hand in hand," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. Remus made a sound like he might have swallowed his tongue. Sirius thought he was developing a headache, because a casual arrangement between Harry and Fleur was a third option he had not considered.
"But shouldn't we stop zem?!" Maxime cried. "Zey are competitors, and-"
"In my not insignificant experience with teenagers, I have learned that telling them to stop something often results in the exact opposite," Dumbledore said gently. "Better that we let them make their own decisions, and support them where we can. If this is real, then I daresay them being in competition with each other will make or break them rather quickly, and if it is not-"
"If eet is not, zen zis is reckless! Ze news tonight was 'orrible, but zere is no guarantee zis will not turn out just as badly! What if eet is worse? Zey are inviting scrutiny, and rumours-"
"Doubtless that's the intention, yes," Dumbledore said.
"Fleur would be dealing with scrutiny and rumours regardless," Remus said.
"Eet is a terrible situation, zere is no denying zat, and perhaps zis will make it better, but perhaps it will not. You and Madame Lupin and Fleur are all of age and we will say zere is no truth to ze story and we can get you through zis wizzout 'aving to create more stories."
"Harry seems to have decided otherwise," Dumbledore said. "Miss Delacour, too, clearly."
"But should 'e be allowed to make zat decision to involve 'imself? 'E is a boy and 'e was not involved. Eet should not fall to 'im to try to fix eet." Then, somewhat reluctantly she added, "And Fleur- I can see why eet might be ze better option in 'er eyes, but eet is not right to let 'er drag 'im into zis-"
"He chose to involve himself," Sirius said. "He's been a bit of an idiot tonight-" Because he'd either come up with a pretend dating scheme, or - despite being the owner of an invisibility cloak, having access to a house elf, and having excellent hearing - he'd let himself get caught visiting his secret girlfriend. "-but he's not stupid - he knows what he's getting himself into, and there's no way he'd want that, so he either thinks being with Fleur's worth it, or he thinks protecting Remus and Dora's worth it, depending on what the truth is. I'm not going to tell him he's wrong."
"So…" Padfoot said, rapping his knuckles on the doorframe; it was a bit unnecessary since the door was open - Harry'd known Padfoot would want to talk when he got home - and he'd heard the Floo and then Padfoot on the stairs.
"Hi," Harry said, setting his copy of Quidditch Quarterly aside.
"Anything you want to tell me?" Padfoot asked, stepping into the room. He came to sit on the end of Harry's bed, giving Harry's neck - mostly hidden by the jumper he'd put on as soon as he'd got home - a pointed look, one eyebrow raised.
"Yeah," Harry said, "that I'm really sorry." Padfoot huffed a laugh.
"Thanks, but try again," he said, scent amused and - thankfully - not at all mad. "There are two answers I'll accept, and sorry isn't one of them."
"Can I have a hint, then- Ah!" Padfoot pinched Harry's leg, making him scoot further up against the headboard.
"Is it real?" Padfoot asked, laughing.
"No!" Harry said.
"Good," Padfoot said. Harry raised his eyebrows. "Thought I might have been losing it for a bit there." He gave Harry a wry grin. "So to be clear: you're just trying to cause a scandal to take the focus off Remus and Dora?"
"Er… pretty much, yeah," Harry said. "And to help Fleur a bit too, I s'pose. Skeeter- she was out of line."
"Just a bit," Padfoot said darkly.
"And I am sorry," Harry added. "I wanted to tell you, but I knew I had to be quick and- well, it would sort of be a weird thing to ask you for permission to do, or even just talk to you about before it had actually happened-"
"Hey," Padfoot said, oddly gentle. "You know you can talk to me about anything, kiddo. Girls included - real or fake-"
"Hey, Fleur, I was just talking to my godfather and he and I think it'd be a great idea if you and I pretend to date for a bit to protect my other godfather and his wife. He's given me permission and everything..." Harry gave Padfoot a flat look.
"Godmother," Padfoot corrected absently, but wrinkled his nose. "And all right, I can see your point there." He rubbed his chin. "Although I'm not sure I'd have ever said I thought this was a great idea."
"It's a pretty terrible one," Harry said, a bit sheepishly. And, between the hopefully impending article about it all, and having to spend time with Fleur to be convincing - especially if her reaction earlier was anything to go by - the worst was surely still to come. "But it might work." It's for Moony and Dora, he reminded himself, and gave Padfoot a weak smile. "That's the main thing, right?"
"In theory," Padfoot said, frowning. "Are you sure about all this?"
"Bit late now if I'm not," Harry said wryly. "I think Maxime woke up all of Beauxbatons when she found us." She'd dragged Harry by the ear to her office, and he'd seen quite a few cracked open doors along the way, heard a lot of whispers... though he had no idea what they'd been saying because he didn't speak any French. "Which was sort of the point; Skeeter's obviously been talking to people there. Now she's got plenty of witnesses for her next piece." Hopefully one of them would even get in touch with her, tip her off about the night's events.
"I'm sure she'll be thrilled," Padfoot said. "She'll probably be up all night trying to get something ready to go into the morning edition."
"Good," Harry said tersely; she deserved a lot worse than a sleepless night.
"It's a start," Padfoot agreed. "And you and Fleur? What's next?"
"Dunno," Harry said. "Hadn't got that far… I s'pose I'll have to go and see her tomorrow so we can make plans… er… stage a date or something." He had no idea what they'd do… He'd been on one proper date before, with Cho, and it had been a bit of a disaster. If Harry was picking an actual date activity, he'd probably want to go flying or see a Quidditch match or something, but Fleur didn't seem like the type to want to do that. And, there was no way he was letting her choose, not after her earlier attack; she'd probably pick something terrible or embarrassing because she could. Maybe Harry'd ask Hermione for ideas, or maybe... "We could do Hogsmeade, since Maxime said she won't let her go with the others." Harry thought she might like that, or, at the very least, not hate it as much as anything else he might suggest.
"It's nice and public," Padfoot offered.
"Yeah," Harry said. "On the topic of public… I… er… don't suppose there's any way to convince you to… er… take back your punishment, is there?" He rubbed his bruised neck and gave Padfoot a hopeful look. Padfoot arched an eyebrow.
"You want to be convincing, don't you?"
"Well… yeah, but- maybe not, y'know, this convincing."
"Pity." Padfoot's mouth twitched.
It's for Moony and Dora.
"Morning," Sirius said, lowering his copy of the Daily Prophet to look at Ron. He looked to be finishing a late breakfast. Harry was nowhere to be seen, nor were any of Grimmauld's other regular occupants.
"Morning," Ron said, coughing as he breathed in a bit of ash. "Can we come through?" Sirius' eyes flicked to the paper in front of him, and then back to Ron. He smiled slightly.
"Seen Skeeter's latest, have you?"
"Yeah," Ron said, and Sirius' smile widened, probably at the baffled look on his face. He waved a hand and Ron lifted his hand up behind himself into a thumbs up so Ginny and Malfoy would know they could follow, then rolled forward and out onto Grimmauld's kitchen floor. "Thanks." He stood and dusted himself off. Sirius took a bite of his toast as Malfoy stepped out of the Floo.
"Morning, Draco."
"Professor," Malfoy said slyly, and Sirius rolled his eyes. Malfoy looked at Ron. "Where's Potter?"
"Upstairs trying on scarves," Sirius said, sniggering.
"Scarves?" Draco repeated.
"You'll see," Sirius said. Ron thought he was enjoying himself.
"What are we seeing?" Ginny asked, shaking soot out of her hair as she emerged from the fire.
Upstairs, the doorbell rang. Sirius glanced up and frowned, which Ron took to mean he wasn't expecting anyone.
"Kreacher?" Sirius said. There was a pop at the top of the stairs.
"Kreacher is going, Master," Kreacher replied, "oh yes, Kreacher is. Kreacher wonders who it might be-"
"Good morning, Kreacher," Hermione's voice said, and Sirius just about fell off his seat laughing.
"Did you know she was coming too?" Ron asked Ginny. Both she and Malfoy shook their heads.
"Sorry for showing up so unexpectedly," Hermione continued, sounding like she was frowning, "but I was hoping to see Harry for a bit-"
"Kreacher is that- Hermione?!" Harry's voice echoed down, much more faintly than Hermione's.
"Yes, it is," Hermione said, sounding both sheepish and worried all at once.
Malfoy looked at Sirius:
"Do you mind if we-"
"Not at all, Mr Malfoy," Sirius said and Malfoy pulled a face. He headed up the stairs, Ron and Ginny on his heels. "Don't be too mean!" Sirius called after them.
"Mean?" Hermione, wearing a snow-dusted woollen hat and gloves paused with her foot on the first step to the upper levels of the house. "I- Drac- Oh!" She pursed her lips. "I take it you've seen the paper too?"
"Caused a right stir over breakfast at home," Ron said.
"Is that Ron too?!" Ron looked up to see Harry half-hanging over the banister of the top floor, trying to see what was going on. Ron waved at him, Ginny grinned, and Malfoy smirked. Up above, Harry disappeared with a groan and Ron could hear Sirius laughing again down in the kitchen.
"How'd you get here?" Ron asked Hermione, as the four of them headed upstairs.
"Bus," she said.
"The Knight Bus?"
"No, just a muggle bus."
Harry was waiting for them on the top landing. He looked half amused, half nervous, and weirdly, was wearing his Gryffindor scarf, despite the fact that it was perfectly warm inside and Harry'd never really seemed to feel the cold anyway; he was in a tshirt and jeans.
"What's prompted your surge of House pride this morning?" Malfoy asked, arching an eyebrow. Harry, interestingly, flushed the same red as the scarf.
"I think the more important question," Hermione said, "is what's going on?" She looked at Harry. "Are you all right?"
"Mostly," Harry said, grimacing. "I-"
"Let me guess," Malfoy said, leading the way into Harry's room. "You were at the Beauxbatons carriage but it was probably to speak to Lupin and you figured you'd see Delacour while you were there… probably told her you thought last night's article was rubbish, or you were giving her a hint about the egg, and Skeeter's just taken the whole thing out of context like always?"
"That was my guess too," Hermione said, nodding as she perched on the end of Harry's unmade bed.
"Er… not quite," Harry said.
"I told you," Ginny sang, clearly amused. She'd claimed the edge of Harry's desk.
"Told them what?" Harry and Hermione asked in unison.
"It's fake," Ginny said. "It certainly wouldn't be the first time he's got involved and made something up to try to protect someone's reputation."
"Even Harry's not that silly," Hermione said.
"That's what I said!" Malfoy agreed. Ron hadn't thought it was silly so much as he'd thought there was no way Harry'd be willing to even try, because Fleur. Now, though, he was watching Harry, who'd started to look decidedly shifty as soon as Hermione spoke. Ginny cackled from her spot on the desk.
"You're mental," Ron said, not sure if he was more horrified or impressed. "You and Fleur?"
"It's not real," Harry said. "But yeah... Reckon I've lost it." He grimaced.
"Hang on - Ginny's right?!" Hermione asked.
"Did you see what Skeeter wrote about Moony and Fleur?" Harry demanded. Hermione took one look at him and went from looking shocked to resigned. Ron didn't blame her; it wasn't often Harry got like this - angry, instead of reluctant, or determined - but when he did, there was no reasoning with him. "I wasn't just going to sit by and do nothing-"
"So you asked Fleur Delacour, a part-veela who's three years older than you, who's your competition in the Tournament, and who regularly calls you a leetle boy to be your fake girlfriend?" Hermione asked, pinching the bridge of her nose. "That was your solution?"
"She said yes," Harry said, with a shrug and a quirk of his mouth that quickly turned into another grimace.
"Of course she did," Malfoy said. "For her it's an easy way to get rid of any rumours about her and Lupin."
"Exactly," Hermione said. "I was actually worried that she'd see the article and ask you to play it up a bit until things died down, or at least not speak out to say it was wrong…"
"What was your advice going to be?" Harry asked curiously.
"To be careful," Hermione said. "We all know what Skeeter's like - doubtless she'll make all sorts of insinuations… More to the point, though, we don't really know what Fleur's like… she's certainly not above taking advantage of you to make herself look better, and I'm not sure that she'd be above trying to find some way to use that to disadvantage you in the Tournament, either- I know you don't care how you place," she added, when Harry opened his mouth, "but if she does something and you take longer than the hour in the lake, what does that mean for Ron? Or if she incapacitated you and the timing lined up with whatever Voldemort's planning…"
"Cheery, Hermione," Ron said.
"She's right, though," Ginny said, frowning.
"So I'll be careful," Harry said.
"That's comforting, Potter," Malfoy said. "Given you trying to be careful has always worked so flawlessly and effectively in the past." Harry grumbled something unintelligible and probably rude.
"Harry knows what he's doing," Ron said, and received incredulous looks from all three of the others - Harry included. "Not- maybe not specifically-"
"Do you not remember him with Cho?" Hermione asked.
"Yes, but Harry actually liked Cho," Ginny said.
"True, but-"
"The point," Ron continued, more loudly, "is that Harry improvises all the time. If he thinks it'll work, and he thinks it's the right thing to do, then it's not really our place to argue, especially when it probably won't affect us." It was Malfoy's turn to look resigned; Ron knew that meant he agreed. Ginny looked less convinced, but didn't voice any protests.
"It might a bit," Harry said. "Fleur'll probably be spending time with us or I'll be around less… for a little while, at least."
"I think we'll manage," Hermione said, with a small smile.
"Thanks," Harry said, relieved. "Because I don't know that I can handle her on my own all the time."
"Should've thought of that before you asked her to date you," Ginny said, amused.
"He was too busy being noble and protective to do things like think," Malfoy said. "But the girls are right, we can tolerate Delacour."
"Will you have to- y'know, kiss and stuff?" Ron asked suddenly, and Harry stilled. "If you're pretending to date and all." He grinned. "Could be all right, mate-"
"You're such a boy," Ginny said, revolted.
"Kiss and stuff," Hermione repeated, rolling her eyes. "Honestly, Ron."
"They already have been," Malfoy said, and though he was obviously teasing, Harry blanched. "Skeeter was talking all about his indecent activities with Delacour in her artic-"
"Harry?" Hermione asked, voice an impressive mix of incredulous and disapproving; Harry had gone white and then red in quick succession.
"Hang on," Ron said, stunned, as comprehension dawned. "You and Fleur- you actually...?! I thought you said it was fake?"
"It is! I didn't- she-" Harry had gone - if possible - even redder, and adjusted his scarf, not able to meet anyone's eyes. Ron turned to Malfoy who looked fascinated, and then to Hermione who was just staring at Harry. Then, movement made Ron look at Ginny, who'd hopped off the desk. Her expression - speculative and amused and intent in a way that never boded well - made Ron think of Fred and George, so really, he couldn't blame Harry for looking wary and scrambling further up the bed.
"Ginny..."
"What?" she asked, in an innocent voice that wasn't innocent at all.
"What are yo- No!" Ginny pounced lightning fast. Even faster, Harry rolled off the bed and to his feet, one hand up and ready to push her away or deflect anything else she might try, while the other held his scarf in place.
The pair of them faced off across the bed, Ginny amused, Harry cautious.
"All right," Hermione said eventually, "leave him alone, Ginny."
"Yes, Mum," Ginny said, and put her hands up in surrender before flopping down on the bed where Harry'd been. Harry retreated a few steps to join Ron by the window, and after a nervous, pleading look, lowered his hands. Ron let him be, though Ginny was giving him imploring looks from the bed.
"-go soon… I need to get to the library," Hermione was saying.
"At Hogwarts?" Malfoy asked.
"No, the British library near Kings Cross… Mum and Dad think I'm there already, and they're coming to meet me for lunch."
"And other than the fact that you're you, why do you need-"
"I had an idea for the third task." Hermione said. Harry's head snapped up. "I'll explain when I see you all on Christmas Eve," she said, waving a hand. "I don't know enough yet." Harry settled back against the windowsill.
"What was it like?" Ron muttered, low enough for only Harry to hear.
"Unexpected," Harry muttered back, cheeks pink. "And not as great as you'd think." Ron raised his eyebrows. Harry grimaced.
