Sirius didn't get up. He didn't twitch. He didn't make a sound. He just lay there. Unmoving.
Shock hit Harry quickly, the sight of his godfather's form nearly stopping his heartbeat. Just as quickly came the fear, something he'd never experienced professionally before, but not fear for himself. It was fear for what he'd find if he walked over and turned Sirius onto his back. Fear that all he'd find is a vacant expression and nothing more.
After what seemed like an eternity, time returned to normal.
His blood boiled.
With an inhuman scream of his own, all Harry saw was red.
He let it consume him completely, let the anger and unbridled rage wash away the shock and fear, like sand at high tide. His whole body burned, though his chest burned hottest of all. His heart beat faster and faster until he could hear the blood pumping in his ears. Without thought, his movements were no longer his own.
"Harry!"
A voice called to him from a great distance, but the fire within him continued to burn, pushing out all thoughts as he moved with purpose. He was blinded, all he could see was the image of Sirius on the ground, and it fed the inferno. He'd forgotten his training, set aside proper form, and completely abandoned all sense of self. He could taste the magic in the air and it yearned for more chaos.
"Harry!"
The voice called again and he nearly faltered, but he simply swatted it away. A distraction. His arms burned and he could feel slick liquid dripping down his side. It didn't matter, not now. The voice called to him again, closer and more distinct, and the part of his mind fighting against the tide of his anger latched onto it like a life raft. It was a port in a storm, a beacon of something external of himself.
"HARRY STOP!"
The voice pierced through the haze, shattering it. The anger receded and the red he saw dissipated, replaced with a blurry look at his surroundings. His mind was once again his own as he realized he was still in the greenhouse. His arms were bound by thick green vines, holding him down as he struggled against their confinement. He stopped moving as his vision began to clear and dropped to his knees at the sight before him. The vines released him.
The greenhouse had been completely destroyed. It was as if a tornado had torn through the enclosure. Dirt, plant boxes, and roots were strewn about, ripped from where they'd been with reckless abandon. The large vines curled around the overhead trellis were on fire. Nothing had been spared, not even the incredibly rare plants he could see in the far corner, their bright leaves already wilting from the harsh reality of being torn from the soil.
His eyes widened as he looked down.
Bellatrix Lestrange lay dead.
Or rather, what remained of Bellatrix Lestrange was before him. Her body had been nearly torn to shreds, her skin was littered with cuts, some large and deep, others simple nicks. It was as if she had been placed in a storm of glass. Her stomach had a deep gash and her throat was cut, but there were bruises forming as well, as if she'd taken a beating before being cut down. A hand fell onto his shoulder and he jumped.
Looking up, he saw Fleur, hood down, a look of deep concern on her face. He tried to speak, but words escaped him.
Had he done this?
"Merlin, Harry, are you alright?" she asked as she squatted before him, placing herself in front of the body, blocking his vision. "Harry, please answer me. Are you okay?"
He nodded numbly, looking down. His own arms were littered with cuts. He dropped his wand in shock, a sharp pain shooting into his hand as he did so. He opened his right hand and saw a burn the exact shape of his wand had formed on his palm. He was suddenly very aware of his own injuries and his head throbbed. He wobbled as a wave of pain wracked him. He touched his side, wincing as he felt the gash.
He looked at Fleur.
"Sirius. Sirius is-"
"Alive," she interrupted.
He stopped breathing. Sirius was alive? He couldn't concentrate, couldn't think straight.
"What?" he whispered, "he's…alive? But, I saw-"
"Harry," Fleur interrupted again in a commanding tone. "Sirius and your father are alive but they need a healer. Rudolphus is stuck to the wall of the house and he's alive as well. Look at me Harry."
He focused on her, pushing away all other thoughts. He stared at her face, taking in the details, memorizing the worried frown and blue eyes filled with concern. He took a breath, an almost impossible task, but he continued to focus on her, picking up the details. She'd let her hair go back to her natural blonde and her voice was no longer distorted. He took another breath as he studied the lines on her face, letting the act guide him back to his center.
"Harry, we need to call for help. What's the protocol here?"
He nodded. She was right, they needed to call for help. He reached into his robes and pulled out a small, round crystal ball. It was unassuming, its cloudy surface the only distinguishing feature. Another little project from the Department of Mysteries. Once activated, the matching one in the Auror department would sound the alarm and provide his location. He handed it to her.
"Put it on the ground and break it," he directed robotically before closing his eyes.
He took several deep breaths as he finally latched onto the mental exercises he'd been taught. Breathe in, count to ten, breathe out. Repeat. Again and again he performed the action. Slowly his mind sharpened, no longer needing the focal point of Fleur's face to remain lucid, yet he still felt numb. He reached for his wand and winced as it touched his right palm, quickly slipping it into his holster before standing up and surveying the area.
Sirius was on his back and a weight lifted from Harry's shoulders as he saw the slow, erratic rise and fall of the man's chest. Across the greenhouse he saw his father propped up against a stone column. His wrist was swollen and purple, but his breathing was normal, almost as if he were taking a simple nap. Just as Fleur said, Rudolphus was stuck to the side of the house by what appeared to be a thick spider web.
He heard the crystal break and Fleur turned towards him.
"What now?" she asked.
"Now you leave," he said, struggling to keep the exhaustion from setting in.
"I'm not leaving you alone," she said defiantly, stepping up to him with determination in her eyes.
He shook his head.
"Fleur, you can't be here when the team arrives. You weren't supposed to be here at all," he explained. "Did you find anything?"
She nodded.
"I found a few documents on their dealings, including some information on their warehouse locations."
He nodded towards the house.
"Put it all back and get out of here. They'll be here in minutes."
She bit her lip and wrung her hands together before she placed a gentle hand on his cheek. He leaned into the touch as a cool sensation washed over him, dousing what was left of the fire within. In its place was something calming, almost serene, as Fleur stared at him.
"I'll see you in a few hours," she whispered, reaching up with her other hand to grip the back of his neck, pulling him down until their foreheads touched. "Don't let this consume you, Harry. Trust me when I say that what you're feeling now can ruin you if not kept in check."
"How?" he whispered as he closed his eyes. "I feel like I'm drowning already."
She rubbed her thumb gently across his cheek.
"Grab onto something and let it keep you afloat." She leaned up and pecked his cheek. "If you don't have anything, then I'm here to keep your head above water."
With that she was gone. He kept his head down and eyes closed as he heard the sound of shouting outside. He took several deep breaths before opening his eyes again, gaze settling on the shattered remains of what was once Bellatrix Lestrange.
.
.
He sat in the chair next to his desk staring at the floor.
The department was a flurry of activity. Everyone had been called back to assist in…Harry honestly didn't know what. Alice had reached him first, surveying the scene before rushing him off to the Ministry. She'd personally ensured a healer visited him and all his various cuts and bruises had been healed, fixed as if they'd never been there at all.
Except for his palm.
The healer had tried everything, but the magic that had burned him refused to be healed by normal means. The familiar salve had been spread across the wound before being wrapped.
Alice sat with him after that, gently asking him what happened. He gave his statement as best he could, but just as he got to the part where he lost control James had arrived. With a quiet word to Alice he sent her to another task, gripping his shoulder before moving back to his office.
He wasn't sure how long ago that was. He'd taken down suspects, been in fights that had resulted in death, but never had he caused anything like what happened today. He wasn't scared to put down a bad witch or wizard when the job called for it, but what he'd done today went beyond that.
He desperately wanted to see Fleur again.
A hand settled on his shoulder and he looked up to see Hermione's smiling face.
"Hey Harry," she said softly, and he instantly knew he wouldn't like where it led.
It wasn't her posture or tone. She looked the same as always, the picture of a professional but with the warmth of a close friend. Her aura radiated confidence, and today was no exception. Instead, it was her eyes that gave her away.
She held a look of pity.
"We're ready for you in James' office," she continued, motioning for him to follow her.
He sighed and stood up. Instantly, the talk in the room lowered just a fraction. His co-workers thought they were subtle, that he wouldn't notice, but he did. As he passed, Neville gave him a reassuring nod of his head.
They entered his father's office and found him sitting behind his desk with Draco standing on the near side. The blonde turned as they entered and curled his lip.
"Do you enjoy fucking things up so royally, Potter?" Harry tried to ignore the comment and simply looked at the other man. "I mean, I generally expect your department to be incompetent, but this is another level."
He took a single step towards Harry.
"Three purebloods are dead and three were injured, one of whom still hasn't woken up in St. Mungo's. Tell me, Potter, did you go there intending to get just three killed and you fucked up getting the rest? Or was that pure coincidence?"
Anger rushed Harry, so he reared back and punched Draco in the face as hard as he could. The blonde stumbled and fell, clutching his face as blood began to seep from his nose.
"That's enough, Harry!" James yelled as he quickly stood up.
Harry stepped back until his back hit the door. Hermione went to Draco, kneeling down to begin healing him. The other man glared up at him.
"That's all you're good for, isn't it? Just anger and battle," spat Draco.
Hermione shot him a look as she stopped the bleeding, telling him to hold still as she made sure it wasn't broken.
"It's not broken," she confirmed before standing up, her coworker following her lead.
"You better pray we find something in the house. Something incredibly damning," Draco continued. "My father is already sniffing around. He knows something happened, he just doesn't know what, but it's only a matter of time."
Hermione sat down and gestured for Harry to sit. He complied, but his hand was beginning to throb. The damn blonde had a harder face than he thought.
"Rudolphus woke up a short while ago and he's highly upset," she explained. "We can't keep him much longer unless we find something. Once he's released he'll hear about Bellatrix."
Images of the body, broken and bruised, floated into his mind. He looked down at his hands, the wrap on his right palm a persistent reminder of how badly he'd fumbled the operation. He hadn't thought about the consequences until now, unable to process what had happened, his mind still sluggish from the haze he'd worked himself out of. Yet he had to push through, do his job, because that's what he was trained to do. He thought about Draco's words for a moment, mulling over his options, before looking up at the blonde.
"Go to the hospital and release him personally," he instructed.
"That's a terrible idea," Draco growled.
Harry shook his head.
"Apologize for the inconvenience but tell him Tom Riddle knows about his failure."
"And that means what, exactly?" Draco asked.
"It doesn't matter what it means," Harry shot back, "it's enough to have him walk away without any further questions or public calls for an inquiry."
Draco shot James an incredulous look, as if he thought Harry had cracked. James gave him a firm nod.
"Go, do as he says," James directed before looking at Hermione. "Can you give us a moment? I'll be ready to continue in just a moment."
She nodded and stood up, squeezing Harry's shoulder before her and Draco departed, the door closing behind them. Harry looked over at his father and was relieved that he didn't find pity in the man's eyes, only concern. He could withstand pitying gazes from others, but he would probably crumble to nothing if his father joined in.
"What happened, Harry?" James asked with concern. "One moment we're dueling and the next I'm waking up to see everything is destroyed."
"Is Sirius okay?" Harry asked, his voice almost a whisper.
James nodded.
"He should wake up soon. He got hit with some pretty nasty spells but the basic first aid you gave him helped a lot." He looked down at his wrist. "It helped the bones set in my wrist quicker too. So thanks."
Harry schooled his features and did his best to keep his reaction from showing. Fleur seemed to have attended to them both after breaking him from his trance. It had felt like moments, but it must have been longer. His fury had been directed at a single target, so she was unlikely to be in any danger from him after his initial outburst that had wrecked the greenhouse. He'd have to thank her properly the next time he saw her.
"You didn't answer the question," James continued, leaning forward in his chair. "What the hell happened?"
"I…" Harry started before stopping. He opened and closed his mouth several times, frowning as he attempted to put to words what he had gone through. "I thought Sirius was dead."
James raised an eyebrow.
"Sirius has been hurt before," he pointed out. "He's gone down on raids in the past and you've never reacted like that. I need something more, Harry. We're looking through the house but I need you to help me understand."
"It's going to sound crazy."
"Right now? I'll take crazy," James replied with a small smile.
Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. How do you explain that you briefly lost your mind because of a dream? That you thought you'd lost your godfather and the image of him falling through the veil of death triggered something within you that let loose a monster? He was disgusted with himself for losing control in the way that he did, but far more than that, he was ashamed that he'd let himself get duped by a stupid dream.
"Last night," he started, unable to look his father in the eyes. Instead, he stared at his right palm. "I had a dream. Sirius and I were fighting Malfoy and Dolohov in front of the veil of death. We got the better of them, but then he and Bellatrix started dueling. She…she got him and he fell through the veil."
James raised an eyebrow.
"A dream?"
Harry nodded.
"Yeah, but it wasn't like any dream I've ever had. It was as if, I don't know, as if I was living it. Yet, it wasn't this me, but some other, younger me. It's crazy, but the taunting Sirius did to Bellatrix today was the same he'd done in my dream." Finally he looked up at his father. "When he went down and didn't get back up, it felt like it was real. Like the dream had become reality."
"What happened after Sirius fell in the greenhouse?"
Harry shrugged.
"I don't know," he admitted. "When he didn't get up, didn't even move, everything just went…red. When I came back to my senses Bellatrix was dead and the place was destroyed."
Tears fell from his eyes as he looked at James.
"Dad, what's wrong with me?"
James was out of his seat in an instant, moving around the desk and wrapping Harry into a tight embrace. There was a warmth to the action that his father had avoided while at the Ministry, preferring to keep a bit of professional distance between them for appearances, if nothing else. That was gone, and in that moment they weren't two Aurors, but rather a father and son. Harry squeezed his father tightly, trying to let him know how much he appreciated the gesture without words.
After a long moment, James released him, sitting down in the chair next to him and gripping his shoulder tightly.
"There's nothing wrong with you, Harry," he said with conviction. His words brushed away a small amount of the doubt that had taken root in Harry's mind. "Bellatrix had just killed a man in cold blood and would have likely done the same to us if we hadn't stopped her."
"Then why do I not feel okay about what happened?" Harry asked.
James smiled.
"Because you're a good person, son. You've taken lives before, only because you had no other choice, but it's never easy." He frowned and removed his hand from Harry's shoulder, leaning back in the chair. "And because you know what happened today was excessive. Nobody is concerned about what you did, Harry, it's how you did it that's worrying."
Harry nodded, sighing once again.
"What happens now?" he asked.
"Now, unfortunately, you can't stay here," James said.
Harry looked over at him.
"Harry, I've got to suspend you indefinitely," he continued. "Until we can get this case wrapped up, figure out who this Riddle character is, you can't be around. There's too many eyes on us now and there will be far more once word gets out. You can't investigate this case and it's best if you weren't here at all. At least until things calm down."
Harry nodded. He understood, even if he didn't like it. This had been a colossal failure when it came down to it. The Lestrange line was in danger of being wiped out, and the Black family had nearly been done in, not to mention the only remaining pureblood Potter being injured. The purebloods would be worked up into a frenzy, descending the Wizengamont into chaos for weeks, though his gut told him it wouldn't be as bad as it could be. Their successful raid on the Nott house, and the looming shadow of Tom Riddle over Rudolphus made Harry believe they would run out of steam quickly.
"I get it," he said. "This doesn't look good, so best if I'm away for a bit."
James nodded.
"Think of it as an extended holiday," he tried before frowning. "Without pay, unfortunately. You need a break, Harry. Get out of the country for a few days. Alternatively, see if you can visit your mother for a few days. I'm sure she'd love to see you at Hogwarts, and the old man has always had a soft spot for you."
Harry nodded again and stood, squeezing his fathers shoulder.
"Thanks, dad."
Without another word he opened the door and walked out, not bothering to tell the waiting Hermione anything as he made straight for the lift.
James sighed and motioned Hermione into the office as his shoulders slumped. She gave him a weak, half-hearted attempt at a smile.
"How'd it go?" she asked.
"About as well as could be expected," he replied, rubbing his face with his hands. "Croaker and I put our necks out to keep the Minister from demanding his termination. Merlin I hope they find something in that house."
"On that note, it seems like they have," Hermione replied, gesturing out to the department floor. "Neville just reported in and said they've found the corpses of several creatures that are illegal to kill as well as a small quantity of unicorn blood. Frank is going through their paperwork now, but he also thinks they're finding something there as well."
James relaxed slightly at her words, though Hermione sent him an apologetic look.
"James, even though we're finding things, Harry might still have to be fired," she said. "Once the public hears about this it's going to be a different matter altogether."
James closed his eyes and nodded.
"I know, don't worry," he said wearily. "Even if the purebloods don't have a leg to stand on in the Wizengamot, they can still turn the public against Harry. I hate the fucking court of public opinion."
He opened one eye and turned it towards Hermione.
"If you were an outsider with no knowledge of Harry, what would your initial reaction to this whole thing be?"
"I'd see a team of Auror's who executed an operation, were forced to adjust, and then…" she hesitated.
"Keep going, I won't be offended," he said with a wave of his hand, sinking lower into the seat.
"...an Auror who put down a suspect. Hard. Potentially with excessive force," she finished.
James nodded. Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"Did Harry tell you what happened? Why did he kill Bellatrix the way he did?"
James straightened up and stood, moving back around the desk to sit in his normal chair. He let out a long sigh before looking back at Hermione.
"Because…because he's Harry, and sometimes he thinks with his heart instead of his head. I just hope it doesn't destroy him this time."
.
.
He appeared in his flat and instantly a warm body collided with him.
He looked down, smiled, and wrapped his arms around Fleur, letting the scent of cinnamon waft through his senses. Before he could say anything he felt the familiar sensation of apparition and they landed again. He released her and looked around. They were on the beach, there was sand beneath his feet, and not a single person in either direction.
Taking in a deep breath he turned around to see a charming beach house not far from where they were, its light blue walls and white shutters an inviting sight. He turned back to look at Fleur with a raised eyebrow.
She looked towards the water and sat down before removing her shoes. The socks came next and Harry followed her lead. He buried his feet in the sand and stared out at the choppy waters, the sound of waves rolling onto the beach.
"I bought this place, and all the surrounding land, not long after the Shadow got her name," Fleur explained with a small, sad smile. "I would come here to clear my head or Gabby and I would make a weekend trip of it. There's a nice village not far from here."
She grabbed his hand and interlocked her fingers with his, gently rubbing his hand with her thumb.
"After the explosion, this place had too many memories. Everywhere I looked, I saw her." She laughed. "All this space, and no matter where I went it felt like I was suffocating."
"So why bring me here?" Harry asked.
She looked at him and smiled.
"Because I want to make new memories here. I can't keep letting the past rule my life. I'll treasure the memories of my sister forever, but I need to take back some of my past to make a future." She looked around. "This seemed like a good first step."
She stood and dusted the sand from her backside, holding a hand out for him after she was done.
"And I think you could use some new memories too."
He smiled and took her hand, letting himself be helped up. She was right, and the peaceful atmosphere of…wherever they were had a certain appeal to it. He could hear birds and the ocean, but aside from the local wildlife, they were alone.
"Where do we start?" he asked with a smile
She looked up and nodded.
"It's just about to start getting dark, I know exactly what to do."
She led him closer to the house, to a fire pit that had four chairs around it. With a few quick motions of her wand the fire lit, the sliding door to the house opened, and several items floated out. She sat down in one of the chairs and reached down, grabbing something and holding it out for him.
"It's a stick," he deadpanned.
Fleur gasped.
"Really? I never knew!"
Harry rolled his eyes as he sat down beside her, grabbing the stick from her.
"Alright, Ms. Comedian, what are we doing with these sticks?"
"First," started Fleur as she grabbed two glass bottles that had floated out from the house. She handed him one and tapped her own against his before taking a long sip. "We drink."
Harry tipped the bottle over and took several long gulps, the cool drink going down smooth. He nodded and looked at the label.
"This is good," he commended, "where'd you get it?"
She threw her thumb back in the direction behind her.
"The village down the way is muggle. They've got all manner of drinks, though their wine is kind of terrible."
He nodded as Fleur handed him a chocolate bar and a stack of light brown crackers. He took another sip of his drink before placing it on the ground.
"Hold out your stick," she directed.
"We haven't even had one drink yet," he said casually.
She glared at him as she reached down and pulled out a large bag of what had the be the largest marshmallows he'd ever seen. He raised an eyebrow as she opened the bag, popping out two of the sugary treats. She stuck one into the end of his stick.
"Graham crackers, chocolate, and marshmallows," he recited.
"Five points to Gryffindor," she said cheekily, pointing at the marshmallow now stuck to the stick. "One of our coworkers in Egypt showed us this. Hold the marshmallow over the fire until it starts to brown a bit."
He did as instructed and after only a few moments he'd apparently reached the desired colour, as she moved it away from the fire.
"Grab two graham crackers and put a slab of chocolate onto one of them." He did as instructed, noting that one square of chocolate seemed perfectly cut to fit onto the cracker. "Now slap that marshmallow onto the chocolate and slide it off the stick. Once it's off, smash the other cracker onto the top of the marshmallow."
Again he did as instructed, looking up at her as he did. She smiled at him.
"Now eat it."
He took a bite and his eyes opened wide. It was sugary, very sugary, but there was something about the crunch of the cracker and the contrast between the chocolate and marshmallow that made it all perfect. He quickly finished the treat in a single bite.
"Merlin's balls, that's amazing," he said after it was all gone. "It's sweet, but not overwhelmingly sweet, and the toasting of the fire gives it a nice warmness that partially melts some of the chocolate."
"Congratulations Mr. Potter," she said with a smirk, "you just had s'mores. When I got introduced to marshmallows I questioned if I'd ever truly been alive before that moment. They're so good."
She held the bag open for him and he grabbed another to begin roasting.
"We sat outside one night and one of our American breakers taught us how to make them." She bit into her own and he laughed as a small moan of pleasure escaped her lips. "It became a monthly tradition after that. On a night when the weather wasn't terrible we'd sit outside, make s'mores, drink cheap drinks, and tell stories."
He finished off his beer and another floated to him. He took a sip and looked over at Fleur. She was smiling and her hair was a mess, but in the glow of the quickly-fading twilight he couldn't help but think she looked stunning.
"So tell some stories."
"What?" she asked as she held another marshmallow over the fire.
"Regale me with some tales of the life of a curse breaker," he said with a dramatic wave of his arm.
She didn't disappoint, and they went through the entire bag of marshmallows as she told him all about life in Egypt. Some of what she'd seen made him thoughtful, some of it made him sad, and some of it made him laugh. He quickly learned that any story involving a breaker named Madeleine, whom Bill hated for being, as Fleur said, 'utterly and completely without common sense,' usually resulted in Harry struggling to breath from laughing so hard.
It was hours, well past dark and both of them a bit drunk, when Fleur let out a large burp, unable to stop it from emerging in time. They looked at each other before descending into shared laughter. Harry stood up, proud that he did so without stumbling.
"On that lovely note, I think we should probably go to sleep," he said, helping her up.
As she stood to her full height she stumbled directly into his arms, bracing herself with her hands on his chest. She smiled up at him.
"Hi," she said.
"Hi," he replied, but it was muffled as she pressed her lips to his.
The sensation of kissing her shot through him, warming him far more than the fire did. Unfortunately, it also caused him to lose his balance and they fell. He landed, incredibly ungracefully, on his back and grunted when she landed on top of him. She straddled him and moved her hips slightly, smirking at the noise that escaped his mouth. She leaned down and kissed him deeply again.
When they broke apart and she leaned back there was something new in her eyes. All evening he'd seen genuine comfort and ease in her eyes, as if she needed their night away just as badly as he did. Now though, that had been washed away, replaced by one thing: desire.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked. "We're both kind of drunk."
She pulled her robes over her head and tossed them to the side before looking back down at him. She moved her hips again and laughed.
"I wouldn't be here if I didn't want it," she said. "And from what I'm feeling, you want it too."
She removed her shirt and unclasped her bra, letting him get a full view of her body in the pale moonlight. She was breathtaking, and he had to remind himself to breathe before grabbing her hips and sitting up. He captured her mouth in a kiss as she began to unbutton his shirt. With his top discarded she threaded her hands through his hair and settled them on the back of his neck.
"Make love to me, Harry."
.
.
He awoke to the smell of bacon and eggs.
Sitting up, he looked around, finding his glasses on the end table and placing them on his face. He was still in the bed, though they had barely made it there before passing out just a few short hours ago. He stood and realized he was naked, though he quickly located his underwear on the floor before pulling them on. He moved out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen, stopping at the entryway to watch.
Fleur was at the stove making breakfast the muggle way, a spatula in her hand as she moved the eggs around. Two plates sat beside the stove, two slices of bacon on each, and a pot of coffee appeared to still be hot. Despite how good the food looked, Harry couldn't stop himself from letting his eyes linger on her form. She was wearing her stockings, they'd never come off last night, and his button up shirt.
And nothing else.
"It's rude to stare," she said without turning around as she began to place eggs on each plate. She turned to him as she finished and smiled.
"Sorry," he said, looking down.
She laughed.
"It's fine, I wouldn't have done it if I didn't want you to look," she replied teasingly. "Now come, eat."
They sat at the table and began to eat in relative silence, neither up for much conversation as hunger seemed to overtake them both. Snacks and alcohol was all they'd had last night, and while it was fun, it couldn't replace a real meal. It didn't take Harry long to finish, placing his fork on the table and sipping his coffee. He looked over at Fleur and realized he hadn't properly thanked her yet.
"Thank you," he said, "for everything. I…I didn't tell you that yesterday and I should have. I didn't realize how much I needed a break until I was kidnapped."
She smiled.
"I think I needed a break as well." Her smile faltered just a bit. "Do you…want to talk about it?"
He thought for a moment and nearly said no. He'd had raids go bad before and never needed to talk about it with anyone. He just made the best of it and moved onto the next job. This felt different, however. Perhaps it was the emotions involved, or how it went down, but somehow he realized he couldn't just bottle it up and throw away the key.
"I've had to take a life before," he started, looking down at his coffee cup. "They'd left me no choice or had made it impossible for there to be any other outcome. Yesterday was…different. I lost control, let my emotions get the better of me, and I lost myself to the rage. I feel like a monster."
She placed a hand over his.
"You're not a monster, Harry. You saved James and Sirius' lives."
He shook his head.
"I let myself get lost in the anger until I couldn't see anything else. What if you hadn't been able to pull me out? Would I have hurt you as well? Or worse, kill you?"
"And what if you hadn't killed her?" Fleur countered. "They were trying to kill you all and would have succeeded if not for you. The way it happened was unfortunate, but it was always going to end with Bellatrix Lestrange being dead. She would never have let you take her alive."
What she said made sense and the logical part of his brain knew that. He suspected that, given time, he'd also agree with her assessment. Bellatrix Lestrange intended to kill or be killed the moment she murdered Regulus, a display such as that right in front of three Aurors clearly showed she intended to leave no survivors. It would just take him some time to reconcile those facts with what he felt in his heart.
"I…don't want you to think any less of me because of it," he admitted. "I'm not a murderer."
She placed a hand on his cheek.
"I know that Harry. Anyone who's ever met you knows you're not a murderer, and I would never think less of you for what happened." She stood and kissed him on the cheek before walking over and grabbing the coffee pot. She returned and refilled his mug. "You're a hero Harry, and I'm sure your family will say the same thing."
A comfortable silence settled over them as they drank their coffee. Harry looked out of the back door and watched the waves rolling by, the sound of the water drifting into the kitchen. He turned back to Fleur with a smile.
"I've been suspended indefinitely and barred from working on any cases."
She raised an eyebrow.
"So why are you smiling?"
"How would you like to visit Hogwarts?" He asked. "My mom would probably enjoy seeing me, and you two can talk charms."
"And the real reason to go there?"
Harry shrugged, though his eyes held mischief.
"If we happen to run into Professor Dumbledore then I could casually ask him some questions. Perhaps about a potential former student. You know, purely academic stuff."
"Right, purely academic," she agreed conspiratorially.
Harry looked out to the beach.
"What do you say we enjoy our break for a bit longer first?"
She smiled.
"I think we could make a few more memories before we leave."
.
.
.
AN: Thanks for reading!