Godric's Gift

A/N

I can promise biweekly updates for this story, and I commit to seeing it completed. I may be able to go more than bi-weekly, but I'd rather promise less and overdeliver. There will be no godlike-Harry in this fic. I've got a clear idea of where he is going, and I look forward to showing you all. Expect a slow-burn romance!

But Mostly Stupidity

Light spilled into the tent as Harry opened his eyes…eyes? Why was everything dark in his left eye? Where was he? He was on a twin-sized bed in an undecorated room that reminded him of those medical dramas the Dursleys used to watch. Only the portrait on the wall was moving.

"Easy, does it, Harry," the familiar voice of Mr. Weasley said. "Here, let me put on your glasses."

Concern was etched on Mr. Weasley's face as he came into focus. Harry placed a hand on his left eye where a bandage was expertly placed upon it.

"The Healers will take the bandage off later today—they had to regrow part of your eye as some glass had cut it pretty badly. Harry, I'm so so sorry you ended up in this situation. I should have never left you behind." Mr. Weasley finished crestfallen

The night's events came racing back to him. And words started tumbling out of his mouth.

"Hermione, ok? What about Fleur and Gabrielle, Did you rescue the muggles?" Harry asked.

"All fine; we rescued the muggles after the Mark went up—they are here recovering. Hermione and the two French girls are all fine; they got you to us, and we got you here."

"Dark Mark," Mr. Weasley said grimly. "The sign of You-know-who someone blasted it into the sky and apparently disapparated—but we found the wand that cast it, Mr. Weasley said, pulling out a familiar piece of Holly and Phoenix feather.

"My Wand!" Harry said excitedly, "You found it; wait, it cast the mark?" Harry said, disquieted, feeling polluted somehow.

"I couldn't find it when we were in the tent—it must have fallen out of my pocket while we were at the match," Harry said.

"Mhmm, or it was taken; wands don't fall from their owners' pockets easily; I'll have to report this to the ministry when we wrap up here." Mr. Weasley said wisely.

Harry nodded, not really knowing what to say, he couldn't recall anyone taking it from him, but he couldn't recall losing it either. Either way, he was happy it was recovered.

"Ron, Ginny, and the twins?" Harry asked

"Fine as well. Ginny is a bit shaken, but her brothers took good care of her." Mr. Weasley responded. Harry, your courage never ceases to amaze me but throwing yourself at a full-grown wizard without a wand. That could have ended very badly.

Harry blushed at the praise. Reprimand? He wasn't entirely sure.

"Fleur, the French witch, she was brilliant. I knew if she had a second to pick up her wand, she and Hermione could handle the rest. They were trying to apparate them away—Merlin only knows what would have happened had they been successful."

"Gryffindor, to the core, I see," Mr. Weasley said, a smile breaking the tension.

Harry paused, letting the situation sink in. He survived—he did what needed to be done once again. But he had the element of surprise—he was nothing like Fleur. Her skill, her power. If Harry wanted to survive in the magical world, he will need something more.

"Sorting hat chose well, I suppose. Say, Mr. Weasley, can I get some food?"

—

After a lunch and a series of examinations and a rather tense conversation with Mrs. Weasley, Harry found himself relaxing in Ron's room at The Burrow with Ron and Hermione.

"Harry, you prat, can you not go six months without risking your life to save some person you just met? Sirius was two months ago; you had at least ten months before taking a crack at an early grave again," Ron said, semi-exasperated.

"It just sorta happened. It's not like I'm trying to do it. Hermione's to blame as well–had I not rushed in there–she would have hexed the four to pieces. Honestly, it probably would have been better had I just let her do her thing," Harry said, eliciting a blush from Hermione.

"Harry, if I had known what you were going to do, I'd have hexed you," Hermione Saidseriously.

Harry took a deep breath. She was correct; they both were, he didn't regret doing what he did, but damn, he wished he had the skill of the french witch.

"Hermione, what happened after I passed out?" Harry asked curiously.

"Fleur levitated you and moved you away from the clearing we were in. She used some device using her necklace to call her Father. He was one of the ones trying to rescue the muggles. When Fleur got his message, he was with us in a flash. You should have seen the look on his face when the dark mark went into the air. He outright demanded Fleur and Gabby to portkey back to France. He then sent you and me to St. Mungos and sent for some officials from the ministry and was off." She finished.

"Ron, what happened with you lot?" Harry asked inquisitively

Ron looked a touch sheepish when he started, "Ginny was having a bad reaction to the chaos–since the stuff in the chamber, she has…episodes occasionally. Mum says they are getting better, but we were trying to get her away from the chaos as fast as possible. Then, we ran into Malfoy, of all people–who started to have a go at Ginny."

"He didn't!" Harry interjected

"Well, he didn't finish," Ron said with a wicked grin. "Dad told Fred and George they could use magic; they took advantage," Ron said, satisfied.

"Good," Harry replied

"Is Malfoy ok?" Hermione asked sheepishly, eliciting a slight scowl from Ron.

"He's fine; we weren't really concerned with him. George hit him with a colon cleansing hex; shut him up, good," Ron replied.

"Brilliant," Harry said. "What happened then?"

"Well, we made it into quite a bit of the woods when we heard some bloke scream out something sending the dark mark into the sky. After that, all hell broke loose. Ten people apparated and started firing red spells all around, and we all dodged them then Dad screamed at them to stop. A search ensued, and some serious-looking bloke with a tightly cropped mustache turned up with your wand and a house elf from the bushes. They started chatting about that, and the house elf got sacked for carrying your wand. It was mental." Ron finished.

"Ginny's ok, though?" Harry asked thoughtfully.

"Yeah, she's fine, '' Ron said, "once we got into the woods away from the crowd, she snapped back pretty quick; maybe don't mention it to her though she doesn't like talking about it." He finished. Leaving a curious look on Hermione's face. Approving? Surprised? Harry couldn't tell.

"Good to know, Ronald, thank you," Hermione finished.

They all broke into an easy silence, taking in what was happening. Harry was deep in thought, trying to piece together his dream, the dark mark, and the French dueling witch Fleur.

How many times would he be in life-threatening circumstances? How many times could he cheat death? How many times would he need to rely on people to rescue him?

—

The next few days were some of the best of Harry's life. Harry spent them playing pickup quidditch with the Weasleys—Ginny turned out to be especially good, spending time with Ron and Hermione and getting ahead of his summer homework—all without the fear of being accosted by the Dursleys. Harry managed to get ahead of all of his 4th-year curriculum while also working on reviewing most of Hermione's notes in Runes and Arithmancy. Not that he had mastered the material by any means—but he could understand most of what was going on. Especially in Arithmancy which was essentially just applied mathematics with a touch more emphasis on 3's, 7's, and 13s.

Harry and Hermione found themselves in the front garden of The Burrow, working through Hermione's meticulous notes from professor Sinistra and Babblings' classes. While he probably preferred playing two a side quidditch, he enjoyed learning with Hermione. It was also the most time Harry had spent with Hermione on his own. Ron always managed to disappear when Hermione was in "professor mode." Harry enjoyed the time, and Harry was almost certain Hermione enjoyed it more.

So, as he quietly listened to Hermione explain the intricacies of Sumerian script and how they contributed to Runic enhancements, he felt a great sense of peace wash over him. Hermione's lecture continued a pace until a beautiful tawny owl landed in between them carrying a letter with an intricate seal addressed to the both of them.

"Hermione," Harry began. "How on earth do owls know exactly where to go every time?"

Curiosity danced across Hermione's face, then a frown, "Honestly, Harry, I've no idea." She replied simply while opening the letter.

Harry and Hermione,

I am writing to both of you in the hopes that you will be able to read this together. If you are not, please (whoever receives this first) pass the message along to the other.

I am so overwhelmingly grateful for what you both did for Gabriel and me at the quidditch World Cup. Harry, your courage, and Hermione, your spell works kept Gabby and me from facing something I'd prefer not to think about.

Harry, I am so sorry I did not visit you in the hospital or make sure you were ok. Papa was insistent that we needed to return to France; considering the circumstances, it was not prudent to cross him. Papa told me that you had been discharged with no lasting effects, and I am so happy to hear that.

He also told me that you confronted the putan WITHOUT a wand? Hermione was right in her introduction of you. I don't know if you're brave or stupid—but Gabby and I are blessed that you were there for us.

Merci, for all that both of you, have done. I look forward to getting to know both of you better this year.

Merci

Fleur Delacour

Harry read the letter before handing it to Hermione, who did the same. He was still determining what to make of the French witch but was undoubtedly confused by the last line. When would he Hermione and Fleur meet again? Was she coming to England? Perhaps Hermione would know.

"Erm, Hermione, did you get that last bit about Fleur "getting to know us" this year? Did I miss something while I was passed out?" Harry responded questioningly.

Harry glanced over to see Hermione wearing the puzzled expression he had seen many times before a flurried trip to the library.

"I was thinking the same thing," Hermione replied

"That something happened while I was passed out?" Harry asked, confused.

"No! That she would see us this year. I don't know why; perhaps it's something to do with what Percy has been on about?" Hermione suggested.

"Maybe, Harry responded, but it was my birthday three weeks ago—I'm not going to be the one to find out," Harry said with a grin.

"Will you write to her, Harry?" Hermione asked.

Harry was taken aback by the question. He did not know what he would write about, but he also did not want to not write to her. Why was it Hermione's business anyways who he did and did not write to?"

"Dunno Hermione, why do you care?" Harry said, not able to bite back all the ice in his voice.

Hermione grinned, eliciting a touch of anger in Harry. "No reason, Harry," Hermione responded, batting her eyes annoyingly.

"Ohh, er yeah, yeah, I guess. I will write. It would be rude not to, right?" Harry said uncertainly.

"I suppose it would. Now, Harry, let's go through the Akkadian Runes. They're similar to the Sumerian ones but with certain alterations making their effects somewhat more permanent".

—

The remainder of the Summer fell into a familiar pattern. Harry and Hermione would wake up earlier than the others and, weather depending, work through some lessons in the front garden. They would then join the rest of the Weasley children for breakfast, a few chores, and an afternoon of quidditch, exploding snap, chess, or even swimming in the lake near the Burrow. It was the happiest Harry could ever remember himself being. For the first time in his life, Harry was dreading the end of summer; he was dreading the plunge into the wider wizarding world.

Perhaps that's why he had not responded to Fleur.

He did not want to think about Death Eaters, incompetent ministry officials, or Voldemort. He did not want to think about how a girl almost his age could duel four wizards at once and almost win while he couldn't even hold onto his wand. For a brief moment, he just wanted to forget it all. But he couldn't. On the eve of his return to Hogwarts, Harry stole away from his friends and began writing.

Fleur,

I'm sorry it's taken me so long to reply. The summer has been rather busy for me since the World Cup. I'm trying to cram a year of Arithmancy and Runes into two months. Fortunately, Hermione is an excellent teacher, so I may be able to get it done. She truly is fantastic. Most of what happened at the World Cup was possible because of her.

It was kind of you to complement. My "bravery" or "stupide," I believe the French word is. Honestly, had I thought about any of it beforehand, I may not have done it. We just heard those men and knew we had to do something. All you really needed was a distraction anyways.

By the way, your dueling was absolutely brilliant; where did you learn how to do that? Unfortunately, I find myself in sticky spots more than I wish. I don't know if I can ever take on four wizards at once, but if you can point me in the direction of how to get better, I'd really appreciate it.

Anyways, thank you for writing; forgive my rambling I've never really had a pen pal before or anything, so I'm not sure if I'm doing this right.

Your friend

Harry Potter

Overcoming the urge to set the letter on fire and forget the whole thing—Harry crept down the stairs to where Errol and Hedwig were perched—tied it to Hedwig's leg, and asked.

"Up for a longer journey, girl? Not Sirius this time, Fleur Delacour."

Hedwig hooted affectionately and took off.

Harry crept back upstairs and into his and Ron's room, where Ron was snoring peacefully in his corner bed. Harry slipped under the covers and began to wind down by mentally preparing for the whirlwind to come tomorrow morning. Kings cross and Hogwarts. 4th year was about to begin.