Chapter 10 – Summer's End

If Harry Potter had learned one thing, it was that anything good in his mixed-up life was certain to be balanced—or overbalanced!—by something equally negative. He could not be allowed to be completely happy, now could he? That summer after his fourth year had been by far the best of his life. Regardless of the month at the Dursleys—they had actually left him alone for the most part—regardless of the Dementors and the trial and regardless of anything else which had happened, he had been happy. Simply put, this summer he had found acceptance, and what he felt was the love and support of a family. But in Harry Potter's strange world, it was unsurprising that the summer should ultimately end on a negative note with news of a toad.

It was the last day of summer before they were to board the Express to return to Hogwarts. Neville and Luna had returned to their respective homes the previous evening, promising to see their friends the following day, while the Weasleys had left for the Burrow, though they were to join the Delacour party in Diagon Alley that afternoon to shop for their school supplies.

Harry had left the breakfast room, and was sitting in the main parlor of the Ambassador's Mansion, thinking of the previous month spent with his new family, and the school year to come. It was amazing how his perception had changed in the short month since the Dementor attack. Before, he had always been excited and eager to return to Hogwarts, whether he had been stuck at Privet Drive until the very end, or had actually managed to escape for some weeks—Hogwarts was the only place he had ever truly been able to call home. However, this year, with the kindness of the Delacours, he was almost sorry to be leaving them behind, though, of course, Fleur would return to Hogwarts with him. Apolline was kind and a pleasure to be with, Gabrielle was bubbly and excitable, and Jean-Sebastian had become the father he had never known. Not even Sirius could claim to be a father figure—Sirius, with his effervescent personality and ability to see the humor in anything, was almost like an older brother. Privately, Harry suspected that Sirius preferred it that way, as he considered himself too young to be a father.

As for the return to Hogwarts, Harry could predict much of what he would be facing this year. Though Fudge had been declawed to a certain extent by the defeat he had suffered at Harry's trial, it was easy to conclude that the Minister's attacks against both him and Dumbledore would continue. As long as Fudge refused to acknowledge the return of Voldemort, many would believe him, and Harry would be ridiculed for it. It was good to know he had friends and supporters who did believe him and would stand beside him regardless of what happened.

Of course the normal school year events would continue to plague him—from Snape's unreasonable hatred to Malfoy's continual goading, though Harry was much less inclined to cut the mini-Death Eater any slack than he had been in the past. The little ferret was a problem which would have to be dealt with sooner, rather than later…

It was while Harry was immersed in these thoughts that the Floo flared, and the voice of the Headmaster came through the network asking for permission to step through. Having been tutored by Jean-Sebastian, Harry immediately went to the Floo and granted permission to the professor, and stepped back to allow his Headmaster to come through.

"Ah, Harry, just who I wanted to see," greeted Dumbledore when he arrived. "I have some news which will affect us all in the coming year. If you would be so good as to call Jean-Sebastian and your friends, I would appreciate the opportunity to share it with all of you at once."

Harry assented and left the room, his mind already speculating as to what the professor wanted to share. It could be nothing good, he was certain.

It took Harry only a few moments to summon the residents of the manor to the parlor to receive the Headmaster's news. With the departure of the Weasleys and their other friends—as well as Hermione's parents who had only been staying over the weekend—only the family was left in residence, along with Hermione, who would stay until they returned to Hogwarts.

With the entire group gathered, Dumbledore smiled at them and spoke. "I have some news to share with you all, and as it may affect what happens at Hogwarts this year, I decided that I should inform you all in advance. Especially you, Jean-Sebastian," he continued, nodding at the Delacour patriarch, "as you have expressed some concerns regarding the children's schooling to me privately."

Jean-Sebastian appeared stern as he gazed back at Dumbledore, his face almost expressionless. "Your opening statements are not exactly inspiring confidence, Dumbledore. Perhaps you should come to the point?"

Chuckling, Dumbledore nodded his head in assent. "My apologies to you all—sometimes we of the elder generations forget that those younger than us do not like to hear us talk nearly as much as we enjoy the sound of our own voices. The point it is.

"Today I was notified that the Ministry has appointed a professor to fill the ever problematic Defense Against the Dark Arts position at Hogwarts. Harry and Hermione will certainly be aware that we have not been able to keep a professor in that position for more than a year, a problem with dates back to the late sixties."

"But why, Headmaster?" asked Harry. "It's not as though it's a bad position—I'd think it would be fairly prestigious, to be honest."

"And so it should be, Harry."

"Do you have any indication what is wrong?" Jean-Sebastian interjected. "Surely it cannot be coincidence."

"I do not believe it is coincidence, but unfortunately, I do not have any concrete evidence—only supposition and guesswork, which unfortunately seem to fit the circumstances."

Dumbledore turned to Harry and affixed him with a questioning look. "Harry, unless I misremember, I believe that you previously learned the identity of the Dark Lord, did you not?"

"Tom Riddle," Harry replied with a nod. "He told me it was an anagram for Voldemort."

"It is indeed," agreed Dumbledore. "So, would it surprise you to learn that Tom applied for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position at Hogwarts twice?"

"Voldemort applied to become a professor?" Jean-Sebastian demanded. "Was that before or after he started his campaign of violence?"

"Well before, Jean-Sebastian. Had he come after, I would not have allowed him to escape, I assure you."

Dumbledore's expression became introspective for a few moments, while Harry considered what he had been told. Voldemort as the Defense teacher? He shuddered at the very thought.

"His first application was made during my predecessor's tenure. Headmaster Dippet interviewed him and thanked him for his interest, but told him that he was too young and inexperienced for the position. He asked Tom to return the next time the position was open, after he had had a chance to work in the wizarding world and develop his skills further. I believe at that time Tom, though perhaps not pleased to be refused, accepted the advice and went out to prove himself.

"The second time he applied was not long after I had become Headmaster. By this time he was more than qualified for the position."

"Then why did you not hire him?"

Jean-Sebastian's question hung in the room for a few moments, and though Harry thought he knew the answer, he said nothing. His thoughts were confirmed by Dumbledore's next words.

"I did not hire him because I did not trust him—something about him seemed off to me. I suspect, in hindsight, that by this time he was already well practiced in the dark arts, which was why he seemed to be so qualified—those who employ the dark arts themselves, are uniquely positioned to understand them, after all. I am certain Harry and Hermione remember how effective the Polyjuiced Barty Crouch Jr. was as a teacher."

Harry did not really like recalling the Death Eater and what had happened in his classes, but he nodded tightly to the Headmaster.

"Therefore," Dumbledore said, continuing his narrative, "I thanked Tom again for his interest, but told him I had another candidate with more experience teaching—which was in fact true—and declined to offer him the position. I thought of offering him a different teaching position to keep him at the school and therefore under my supervision. But again, something about him struck me as wrong, and I ultimately decided that if I could not trust him in one professorship, I could not allow him to influence any of the younger generation in another.

"This time, when he was refused, Riddle was incensed, though he attempted to hide it behind a mask of disappointment. He left and has not set foot in Hogwarts again. However, since that time, I have never been able to keep a Defense professor for more than a single year."

"Are you suggesting he employed a curse, Headmaster?" demanded Hermione. "I've heard of items or locations being cursed, but a position?"

"Very good indeed, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore with a chuckle. "In answer to your question, I suspect that Tom did indeed do just that. The wondrous thing about magic is that if the practitioner is innovative enough, and understands the process and the Arithmancy behind the magic, any existing spell can be modified to do what you wish it to. Magic in general can do almost anything you can imagine, if you can develop the proper manner in which to do it. In fact, I would go so far to say that given the number of cultures in the world which have existed over the millennia, the magics that our society can perform are likely only a fraction of the vast sum of magic which has been developed at one time or another in our race's history. And this does not even mention the other sentient and magical races. Given this, it does not seem so impossible, and if anyone could manage to do something so esoteric as to place a curse on a teaching position, it would be Tom Riddle. He is very intelligent—gifted, even."

"But why? What would he gain from it?" Hermione queried.

"Why does he do anything he does?" was Dumbledore's gentle response. "You may as well ask why you prefer the color blue to the color red. I have no real insight as to the workings of Tom Riddle's mind—I doubt even he completely understands exactly why he thinks the way he does.

"In this particular instance, however, I suspect that there are at least two factors which play significantly into his actions. The first is simple spite—Tom was a very confident and arrogant student and did not take rejection well at all. In that, he has not changed over the years. The other reason was likely to try to weaken our society in general in preparation for his bid for power. Due to the lack of stability in the Defense position, the instruction has not been as good as it should have been. If you look at OWL scores for the past thirty years the average grades in Defense have fallen—in essence, Hogwarts graduates of forty years ago are better able to defend themselves than those graduating today."

"So how do we break the curse?" asked Harry.

"Ah, that is the question, is it not?" was Dumbledore's rhetorical response. "Not knowing exactly how Tom did what he did, the counter-spell would seem to be almost impossible to achieve. However, the easy answer would be to have a professor last for more than one year in the position, thus overcoming the magic of the curse and breaking its hold.

"When Professor Lupin was revealed to be a werewolf at the end of your third year, I tried to persuade him not to resign, reasoning that if this was the curse's way of assuring he not return, the simple matter of his return would break it. Of course, that does not account for the curse potentially using other means to ensure he didn't return. That is neither here nor there, though, as the professor had other—more compelling—reasons to resign. I had intended Professor Moody to be the one to finally break it, but you all know how that turned out. I doubt this year's professor will be any more likely to last more than a single year."

"Which brings us back to our original reason for this discussion, Dumbledore," Jean-Sebastian interjected. "I believe you said the Ministry had assigned you a Defense professor?"

"Ah yes. A lengthy digression, but ultimately a useful one, I believe. The Ministry has indeed assigned a professor for Defense, pulling an old law out of mothballs which dates back some centuries. Essentially, it allows the Ministry to designate a professor if the Headmaster has not been able to fill the position. In this specific case, the inability to keep a professor in that position, coupled with the Crouch incident from last year, has rendered the position almost impossible to fill—I received no applicants for Defense this year, and was turned down by everyone I approached."

"What of Auror Moody?" Hermione asked. "Couldn't he actually be the professor this year?"

"With Voldemort's return, unfortunately Alastor has other, more important duties which require his attention."

Jean-Sebastian glared at Dumbledore with a keen look in his eye. "Dumbledore, I doubt this discussion would have been necessary if the Ministry had simply appointed an Auror, for example, to become the Defense professor. Who did they appoint?"

Grimacing, Dumbledore nodded his head in agreement. "You are correct. I would have been happy with many of our Aurors, though any of them would have been a huge loss to the department. However, the Minister did not make even that choice. Unfortunately, he has appointed the Senior Undersecretary, Dolores Umbridge to be the Defense professor."

Though Harry did not immediately recognize the name, it was clear that Jean-Sebastian and Apolline had, if their sudden scowls were any evidence. Harry would have expected Jean-Sebastian to respond, but was surprised when a clearly upset Apolline—who had not yet said anything during the conversation—rounded on Dumbledore.

"Umbridge?" she spat. "That woman is as vile a bigot as I've ever met!"

"I take it you have some experience with the Undersecretary?"

Apolline nodded brusquely. "She was in France a few years ago as a part of a diplomatic delegation, where she made insulting comments about how Veela were creatures which needed to be controlled. If she had her way, all Veela would be locked up and studied, but officially designated as less than human. Tell me why I should allow my daughter to be subjected to the machinations of such a despicable woman?"

Reaching an arm out, Jean-Sebastian pulled his wife into a comforting embrace, while maintaining his scowl at Dumbledore. It was clear that he was just as incensed as his wife.

"Apolline is understandably passionate about this issue, Headmaster, and as our country is home to many Veela, Dolores Umbridge is all but persona non grata there. Apolline's question is valid. Fleur—and Harry, if the Undersecretary's performance during his trial is any indication—will be a target for her vitriol. Why should we not remove them both from the potential of such persecution, and have them take up their studies at Beauxbatons?"

Dumbledore spread his hands out wide in a gesture of conciliation. "I understand your concerns, and acknowledge that Madam Umbridge is… distasteful in her beliefs. However, I believe you may not be thinking of all the ramifications of pulling your children from Hogwarts."

Jean-Sebastian shared a look with his wife, before he turned back to Dumbledore with narrowed eyes. "Explain."

"Just this—now that Voldemort has returned and has continued to show an unhealthy interest in Harry, it is in Harry's best interests that he be protected. No offense to Madam Maxine, but I do not think Harry would be adequately protected at Beauxbatons. It is largely due to Voldemort's respect for and fear of me, that Harry would be safer attending Hogwarts, and by extension, Fleur would also be safer there, as she is now known to have a connection with Mr. Potter, and could be used against him."

"I cannot dispute that," said Jean-Sebastian after a moment. Then a sly look came over his face as he continued, "One might think you are attempting to boast with a statement like that, Dumbledore."

"Certainly not," an amused Dumbledore brushed the comment off, but not without the ever-present twinkling of his eyes. "It is the truth, however—as long as Harry is at Hogwarts while I am there, I do not think Voldemort will attempt anything overt, unless he feels that he will be assured of victory.

"We all know that Harry is Fudge's target," Dumbledore continued candidly. "His failure to discredit Harry during the trial has merely prompted him to change his tactics. However, I believe that I am as much of a target, and that Harry's friends will not be spared either. Therefore, we must make plans to counter the Undersecretary's intentions, and eventually to expose them for what they are, and I will need their help—specifically Harry's—to do that."

"What do I need to do, professor?" Harry asked. He was not about to stand by and listen to the adults discuss the situation—he had been a passive observer far too often in the past, and had ended up acting on impulse at the last moment. He would take a more active role in events.

Dumbledore inclined his head in Harry's direction. "I simply need you to be yourself and to be on your best behavior. During the trial, Umbridge and Fudge attempted to brand you as a troublemaker who seeks to be in the limelight. I do not doubt that Umbridge will attempt to provoke you in some manner; you must resist responding while we work out a way to turn the tables on her and the Minister. Our response will largely be dependent upon Umbridge's actions after you arrive at Hogwarts."

"And what of Fleur?" Apolline demanded. "That woman will take every opportunity to goad and demean Fleur, if she does not openly attack her."

"Mrs. Delacour, I assure you that I will do everything in my power to protect your daughter. I doubt that Madam Umbridge will attempt anything blatant, at least in the short term."

"Maman, I can protect myself," Fleur said, attempting to reassure her mother. "I will have Harry and our other friends with me—she can do nothing."

"You will, Miss Delacour, and I assure you that there is no more loyal friend than Mr. Potter."

Harry blushed immediately at the Headmaster's praise, but he shyly looked at his betrothed and assured her that he would be there for her. Fleur glanced back at him with a large smile upon her face, but she said nothing—for which Harry was grateful.

In an attempt to change the subject—and be relieved from his embarrassment—Harry asked who exactly Umbridge was.

"Do you remember the woman in pink who supported Fudge at your trial?" At Harry's nod, Jean-Sebastian continued. "Dolores Umbridge is a well-known bigot and proponent of anything which she considers helpful in controlling creatures. Her definition of creatures includes just about anything which is not British and Pureblood."

Harry thought for a moment before a thought occurred to him and he allowed a mischievous smile to appear on his face. "She may be vile, but after facing Voldemort himself four times, I hardly think a pudgy, pink, toad woman is anything to be afraid of."

His jest broke the tension in the room, as he had intended, and the company broke into laughter. It was clear that the Delacours—especially Apolline—were still not happy with this development, nor were they pleased with the lack of a concrete plan to counter whatever Umbridge had planned for their children. However, it was also clear that without knowing the precise nature of what the woman wished to accomplish—other than the discrediting of both Dumbledore and Harry, a matter which was now much more difficult due to the thorough routing she and Fudge had experienced at the trial—countering her actions was problematic. But, as Hermione pointed out, echoing Dumbledore's earlier words, they would all have the support of the group which had developed over the summer, and that Fleur would have, at the very least, the support of the Weasley twins in Defense class, as they were in the same year. Harry had no doubt that the rest of the Gryffindor seventh years—especially those on the Quidditch team who he knew well—would also accept Fleur with very little hesitation.

At length the discussion wound up and after the Headmaster requested that Harry make sure his friends were aware of the appointment and to be on their best behavior, he departed, leaving Harry once again to his thoughts. He knew that Umbridge was coming to the school to cause trouble for him, but somehow the thought did not bother him. They had had challenges throughout their time at Hogwarts, after all, and they would face and overcome this one as they had all the others.

No, it was his friends—and his betrothed—who caused him greater concern. They would be targets in order to get at him. He was determined to protect them—no one would hurt his friends to get at him!

The day before their return to Hogwarts, Hermione had a visitor.

She had left the breakfast room, and had returned to her own room to mull over the changes this summer had wrought in her relationships and in the lives of her friends. It had been eventful and, but for the quick action of her closest friend and the timely intervention of some adults, the outcome may very well have been tragic. But what was done was done, after all, and she supposed there was no sense in belaboring the issue.

The residents of the manor were due to depart for Diagon Alley that morning to purchase the final supplies for the students' return to school, and Hermione was looking forward to the trip. She knew her friends would tease her for her excitement, but she had always enjoyed the excursion—returning to school had always been an exciting time for Hermione, and the opportunity to learn, not to mention the chance to browse through Flourish and Blotts and purchase more books, was something which had always given her great pleasure.

Oh yes, she reflected, Harry and Fleur would certainly tease me about my book habits.

Especially Harry, knowing her best out of all her friends as he did, though his teasing would be gentle and playful, not the mean-spirited and spiteful bullying she had endured as a young child. Harry would never hurt her—not intentionally, anyway.

When the knock sounded on the door, she called out permission, and was unsurprised to see Fleur step in through the door. In addition to being intelligent, Hermione was also highly observant, and she had not missed the serious glances Fleur had been directing at her, not only since the announcement of her betrothal had been made, but especially in the past few days. She knew that Fleur would have witnessed the close camaraderie which existed between herself and her best friend, if she had not already heard of their friendship while at Hogwarts the previous year. Hermione had been expecting for some time now to have to reassure her best friend's betrothed of the exact state of their relationship.

Hermione smiled and invited Fleur to seat herself on the edge of the bed. To be honest, Hermione was not certain why the blond witch would be concerned—she was beautiful, after all, and had far more than her share of attributes to keep the attention of any young man. Hermione, though her confidence had been growing, still thought of herself as a mousy little bookworm. What could Fleur possibly have to worry about?

Shaking her head at such thoughts, Hermione concentrated on her friend. They exchanged small talk for several moments, and Hermione noted with amusement Fleur's attempts to keep the conversation light-hearted and friendly. But Hermione had come to know her in the time they had spent together and was aware that something was bothering her. The French witch, though she generally had good English pronunciation—much better than she had shown at the tournament—had a habit of slipping into a much more noticeable French accent when she was nervous or excited. And as excitement was not evident in her manner, Hermione could only conclude that Fleur was nervous about something.

"Hermione, I wanted to ask you something," Fleur finally said after their conversation had gone on for some moments.

"Of course," was Hermione's answer.

Fleur fidgeted for a moment longer before visibly screwing up her courage and looking Hermione directly in the eye. "I wanted to know more of your relationship with Harry. What are your feelings for Harry?"

Smiling at the fact that she had read her friend so well, Hermione immediately thought to reassure her friend. "Harry and I are the best of friends."

"And?"

"Like I said, Fleur—we are best friends," Hermione repeated, emphasizing the words. "We are extremely close and I would do anything for Harry—I know he'd do anything for me too. But there is nothing more than that. We're completely platonic Fleur—we've always been like siblings."

Fleur actually snorted at that declaration, causing Hermione to narrow her eyes at her friend. But before she could respond, Fleur had already spoken.

"Hermione," she said gently, while reaching over to pat Hermione's hand, "perhaps you are not aware of the specific powers of Veela, but I know that you are not telling me the truth. Whether you are lying to yourself or me matters little—but I want you to truly search your feelings and be as candid as you possibly can. It is very important.

"Most of the wizarding world considers Veela to be purely sexual beings, but I can tell you that our magic is actually highly in tune with the power of love. I can feel the connection between you and Harry, Hermione, and there is no denying it. Please be truthful."

Throughout Fleur's speech, Hermione felt her horror and mortification building to almost unbearable levels. Fleur knew her secret! How would she ever live it down? How would she even get the other girl to ever trust her again? She knew she was caught—only the truth would get her out of her predicament.

"I do have feelings for Harry," Hermione acknowledged while hanging her head in shame. "I didn't realize it until this summer after he was already betrothed to you, but I do care for him.

"But Fleur," she pleaded, "you have to believe me—I told you that our relationship is completely platonic, and I swear that's all that it has ever been. We have never been anything but the best of friends to each other. Harry has never seen me that way, and I doubt he ever will—I've always been nothing more than a sister to him."

The last was said slightly bitterly as, though Hermione wanted the best for her friend and truly wished to set Fleur's mind at ease, she did wish that Harry could have seen her as more than simply one of the guys.

She was thus startled out of her morose thoughts when Fleur let out a snort, and descended into laughter. "You know," she managed in her mirth, "you English have a saying which fits the situation perfectly: 'Love is blind.'"

"What are you saying?" demanded Hermione with a frown.

Still chuckling to herself, Fleur scooted over on the bed and draped an arm around Hermione's shoulders. "Hermione, you are just about the brightest person I have ever known, but when it comes to Harry, you have a blind spot the size of an acromantula. You think Harry will never have any feelings for you? Well I can tell you that he does not see you as merely a sister."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Fleur and pulled away from her. "He's never given any indication of it."

"Teenager? Male? Clueless?"

Fleur's irreverent portrayal of Harry sent Hermione into her own spasm of giggles. She swatted at Fleur while trying to affect a stern expression. "Fleur! Harry's not that bad."

"He's not? He said those very words to me, you know."

That got Hermione's attention. "You asked him about me?"

"Not exactly," Fleur said in a soothing tone. "We were talking about you, but I only asked him why he didn't take you to the Yule Ball if he didn't have a girlfriend and he thought as highly of you as he obviously does. That was his response."

Hermione chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully. "Did he say anything else?"

"He didn't need to, Hermione. I can sense his emotions, whether he admits them to himself or not."

If anything, the confirmation of Harry's feelings—or at least Fleur's assertion of them—was almost more painful than the suspicion of their existence. It made her think of all the time they had spent together in the past, and the attraction which she had felt steadily growing, almost literally since the first time she had met him. She had known to a certain extent that Harry was not comfortable in expressing his emotions, certainly due in part to the way he had been treated by his relatives, but also because he simply was not an overly demonstrative person. Perhaps if she had taken the initiative and shown him how interested she was…

But no—if anything that would have made things even worse. If they had drawn closer in the way she had hoped, the enactment of that marriage contract would have torn him from her, in an even more painful way. Since the announcement, Hermione had done her best to accept the situation as there was nothing she could do about it, but she was never as inclined to curse his betrothal as she was at that moment.

But it was what it was, and there was nothing she could do about it—she would not lose a friend with whom she had become very close, or risk Fleur telling her that she could not see Harry at all any longer. His friendship mattered too much to her for her to consider that, even if she would never be allowed to become anything more to him.

"Be that as it may, it changes nothing," Hermione asserted. "Whatever Harry feels for me, he is far too noble to ever betray you like that. And you have nothing to worry about from me, Fleur. I—"

Hermione's throat constricted and she felt a hitch in her voice and the beginnings of tears forming in her eyes. Ruthlessly she forced herself to regain her composure and face her friend, who she noted was regarding her with a look of compassion.

"I have realized that I have feelings for Harry, much as I would like to deny them. However, I would never dream of interfering in your relationship with him, and I know that you two will do well together. Trust me, Fleur—Harry's heart is so big and you are such a wonderful person, that I have no doubt that he will get over whatever feelings he has for me, and grow to love you in time."

"Thank you, Hermione," said Fleur. "I am truly grateful that I have gained you and Harry for friends—in my past, close friends have been difficult to obtain, much less keep. However, I'd like to take this discussion a little further."

Hermione frowned—Fleur's tone was completely calm, and she did not appear to be angry or even concerned with the fact that a female friend had just admitted to having feelings for her fiancé. What was she thinking?

"I'm not sure there's anything more to talk about."

"Indulge me, please," responded Fleur with a smile. "I'd like to know how much you know about wizarding marriage laws in this country. In fact, customs in the wizarding world are so old-fashioned, that I think you'll find little in the way of difference between the laws of any of the western European countries."

Cautiously, Hermione stared back at her friend. Fleur could not be speaking of the potential for Harry to have multiple wives, could she?

"Hermione," Fleur said with a great deal affection, "are you aware that Harry is not confined to only me as his wife? He has the ability to take another wife, as long as I approve."

Shocked that she had guessed Fleur's intent, Hermione gaped at her friend. "Fleur!" she stammered. "Are you suggesting…? You would actually consider sharing Harry with someone else?"

She conveniently ignored the fact that Fleur had not only suggested exactly that, but that she had suggested that she would share Harry with her.

"Ah, so you are aware."

"I have heard that, yes," Hermione snapped. "You didn't answer my question."

"Let me guess—it was Ginevra Weasley who told you. Am I right?"

"What does that have to do with it?" demanded Hermione.

"Nothing," Fleur admitted. "But she may as well forget it—if I were to approve of a second wife, it certainly would not be her."

The conversation was going off track, and Hermione was becoming frustrated with her friend. However, drawing upon her admittedly small well of patience, Hermione fixed her eye upon Fleur and defended her other friend.

"Ginny isn't a bad person, Fleur."

"No, but she is a bit of a fan-girl. You, of all people, should know how much Harry hates his fame."

"I do, but Ginny is changing. When we spoke, I told her that she'd best try to be his friend, rather than attempting to be his second wife."

Fleur snorted. "Good advice."

"You still didn't answer my question, Fleur."

"And I still won't," the French witch responded with what Hermione considered to be an absolutely infuriating smirk. "First, though I admit I'm already getting an idea of your opinion on the subject, can you tell me if you would consider sharing Harry with me?"

With narrowed eyes, Hermione glared at Fleur, before deciding that she would have her questions answered a lot more quickly if she gave in.

"To be completely honest, Fleur, I don't know," Hermione admitted. "I mean, if I was enough in love with someone, I suppose it may be possible to share him with someone else, but I can't really say until I was in that position. I was raised to believe that such relationships are wrong, after all.

"Now, will you answer my question?"

The accompanying glare which Hermione directed at Fleur had apparently struck the French witch as amusing, as she started laughing immediately. Still somewhat put out with Fleur, Hermione snapped, "Fleur, can you please be serious?"

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Fleur said as her giggles faded away, to be replaced with a sober expression which was completely incongruous with her previously jocular attitude. "You must understand that this is difficult for me as well, and I suppose my mirth is my way of dealing with the stress."

Realizing at once that the older witch was not making fun of her, Hermione reached out and patted her hand. "I'm not sure why we're having this conversation in the first place, Fleur. You have just become betrothed to Harry, and you're already trying to find a second wife for him? Perhaps you should try becoming comfortable with him first."

"Perhaps," said Fleur with a sigh. "But everything I sense tells me a different story, Hermione. I believe you have some very deep feelings for Harry, and if I'm right, then separating you—even though the fault belongs to neither of us—would be a mistake."

"But I'm still only fifteen years old, Fleur!" Hermione said with exasperation. "I'm a little young to have found the only man I'll ever love."

Hermione words were filled with sarcasm, and she fully intended to communicate to her friend the fact that she was still young and had plenty of time to find someone else. Unfortunately, the French witch's next words showed that she had not taken them in the way Hermione had intended.

"Perhaps not, Hermione. But there is nothing to say that you haven't found a life long love either. Yes, people develop emotionally and physically as we age, but there is nothing to say that the feelings of love one feels when young aren't as valid as though you had felt those emotions as an adult. Harry has an amazing capacity for love, Hermione, and everything I can sense from you both suggests that you are completely compatible, and already share a great depth of emotion.

"And I should inform you that I'm not the only one who has noted your closeness and compatibility. My mother has noticed as well, and confirms my observations—you and Harry are almost perfectly suited for one another. You would both be fools to throw the possibility of a relationship away."

On one level, Hermione could not believe what her friend was suggesting. Fleur already had Harry sewn up, as it were—they were both bound by the contract her father and Sirius had enacted. Perhaps if she was trying to snare him and knew the only way to gain his interest was as part of a package deal, as it were, this discussion might make a little more sense. But then in that case, Hermione would by default hold the upper hand and would have little incentive to share him with Fleur. Surely there was more to this than Fleur simply believing that Harry and Hermione had feelings for each other.

"Fleur, would you please answer my question now?" Hermione queried. "You have asked me if I'd be willing to share Harry, and the line of discussion seems to suggest that you'd be willing to share him, but I haven't actually heard your feelings on the subject."

Fleur sighed and looked away. "Hermione, you must know that Veela have been prized in the past as mistresses or second wives—it's part of my heritage."

"And you are still avoiding my question," said Hermione with some exasperation. "That is all in the past, Fleur—though, as you pointed out the wizarding world is far behind the Muggle world socially, I'm certain that it has come far enough that you would not have to worry about being forced into that type of relationship. Will you not tell me why you are bringing this up, and what your feelings are on the subject? Do you really want to share Harry with me?"

Though the French witch kept her head bowed as she thought, Hermione could tell that she was considering her answer carefully. She wrung her hands together lightly and shook her head almost imperceptibly as the silence wore on. Though she was obviously agitated to a certain extent, Hermione did not interrupt her, knowing that she needed an answer from her friend.

When she finally spoke, her voice was low, but also firm and confident. "To be honest with you, Hermione, I never expected to be in such a situation. I understand the history of my heritage, but I have always intended to find a husband who would love only me, and I him. I think I've found a man I can love. Harry and I are very compatible—in a different way from you and him of course, but compatible nonetheless."

"Then why are we having this conversation?" asked Hermione gently. "You have him, Fleur. By the terms of that contract he is yours! As you said, Harry has a great capacity to love others, and if you're as compatible as you seem to think, he will come to love you in no time. There is no reason for us to even discuss this."

A sigh was Fleur's response. "Perhaps you are right, but there is more at stake here than simply my own desires. Yes, I want to be happy in my life, but I also want Harry to be happy, and I cannot shake the feeling that Harry's happiness depends at least in part on you. You are his first love—his true love. I do not want him to come to resent me for keeping him from you."

Hermione could not help but be touched by Fleur's selflessness and care for Harry. "Fleur, I really don't think Harry would do that, though I am happy that you care for my best friend as much as you do."

"I do care for Harry very much, though I still do not know him well in many respects. However, there is still more at stake than simply Harry's happiness. I assume, given your penchant for research, that you have acquired some knowledge of Veela traits and characteristics."

Blushing, Hermione acknowledged that she had, reflecting somewhat ruefully that her reputation had preceded her—either that or her friend was getting to know her very well already. "But there wasn't a lot of information that I could find in any of my books. I thought I would look for some more information when we go to Flourish and Blotts today."

Fleur sniffed in disdain. "Here, the only place you would find any information at all, would be in a book of magical creatures, and even then, it would likely be incomplete or wrong altogether. There is more accurate information available on the continent since there are many more Veela there—especially in France. To save time, I shall tell you.

"Veela are essentially humans with special characteristics, but when we have children we always breed true."

Thinking it through, Hermione considered what she knew of Veela. She had precious little experience with them—limited to Fleur and her sister, and the Veela at the world cup the previous year. And though the information she had been able to find was scarce, she had noted that there was a lack of any mention of male Veela. That would suggest…

"So Veela are always female?" she asked out loud. "And any male children of Veela are just ordinary boys?"

"I thought you would figure it out," said Fleur with a nod of approval. "You are correct—any female children I have will be Veela, while any males will be normal human men, though they likely will be quite attractive.

"However, there is another point that is very important to the present discussion. Veela women have great difficulty getting pregnant—a Veela with more than two children is a rarity, and only one child is not uncommon. Even more importantly, more than ninety percent of all children born to Veela are girls."

"And Harry is the last of his line…" breathed Hermione, seeing the dilemma immediately.

"Exactly. If I am Harry's only wife, the chances are very good that the name Potter will die with him, which is one of the reasons why I am bringing this up—if he must have a second wife to carry on his name, why not a woman he already loves? If you were to become romantically linked to him in addition to me, there would be less jockeying for position by other ladies looking to snag themselves a piece of the Boy-Who-Lived. Believe me, there are plenty of Pureblood families out there who are not aligned with Voldemort, but who are knowledgeable enough about Veela—or have contacts on the continent who could divulge this information—who would believe that they would benefit by an alliance with House Potter. I doubt Harry could do better than you—you are loyal, brave, incredibly intelligent, and he is obviously attracted to you, not to mention that you know Harry the young man, and do not idolize Harry the legend. I consider you perfect for him, beyond your obvious compatibility."

It all made sense, Hermione had to admit. Fleur's arguments were logical and well thought out, and though she was raised in a non-magical home and therefore did not consider the lack of a male heir to be an issue—she was her parents only child, after all—she did know that in magical society it was a very big deal in many respects.

It all boiled down to whether she could share a husband with another woman; know that a piece of his heart and body was owned by someone else. Could she do it? At the moment, she knew herself well enough to know that she could not answer that question truthfully—she would need a considerable amount of time to think about such a momentous decision.

Then there was the question of her parents—what would they have to say about her marrying a man who had more than one wife? Her parents were not devout Christians by any means—they tended to be Christmas and Easter Anglicans more than anything else, observing the traditions during those special times, and then ignoring religion for the rest of the year. However, they had been raised in Western society where plural marriage was considered to be immoral. She could not truthfully predict what their reaction would be, but she knew that they would not be completely happy at the very least. Ultimately, they would likely accept it, much as they had finally accepted the fact that she was a witch. Even more frightening was the fact that she had felt herself slipping away from her parents over the years by the simple fact that she was a witch—this was just another thing which would potentially drive the wedge between them even deeper.

"Your arguments do make sense," she said at last, speaking very slowly, while taking her time to think of her words and determine exactly what she wished to say. "I do understand, Fleur, but while part of me wants to jump at the chance, there are things which are holding me back."

Fleur regarded her compassionately, and when she spoke, her voice was very soft and affectionate. "Hermione, I'm not asking you to commit to a lifetime with Harry at this very moment. You are still very young as you pointed out and it is still very early for you to be making such an important decision in your life.

"But I did not wish to put off the conversation for two reasons: the first, is that I want you to think about it. Regardless of what my senses tell me, there is no guarantee that you and Harry would have decided to be together even if I was not a part of the equation. Veela powers only tell us certain things, and do not give us clairvoyance, or take into account another's free will. My betrothal to Harry obviously complicates a potential romantic relationship with him. I understand your hesitation and want you to have plenty of time to think about it before you make a decision.

"The second reason is that I wanted to prevent you from making a mistake and settling for someone who is wholly unsuited to you in your sorrow over 'losing' Harry. That would make you miserable, and I like you far too much for you to waste your life in that manner."

Though Fleur did not name any names, Hermione knew that she was speaking of Ron and truthfully, she could not say that Fleur was wrong. Hermione truly did like Ron. Most of the time, he was a good and loyal friend, and even when he did allow his jealousy to get the better of him, he could be counted on to come around eventually.

But Hermione also knew that regardless of whatever feelings Ron had for her, a romantic relationship between them would never last. Their bickering, divergent goals and priorities, and completely opposite personalities would be a recipe for disaster. Fleur's words, if nothing else, further clarified this in her mind—she and Ron as a couple would never happen.

"I understand," was what she said out loud. "I will think about it."

"That is all I can ask."

Updated 05/22/2013