Chapter Five: Bloody Hell, what is this 'Booyabes' thing, mates? (Bonjour, Je m'appelle Fleur Delacour!)

AN: Sorry, people, no silly French accent in my fic – I think JKR (God bless the woman) overplayed it, but HO(!) I will imitate heavy Slavic accent for you, dear readers=). Remember Karkaroff is Englishmen, though his surname surely is Russian-made-French (Karkarov - Karkaroff) so he doen't twist English.

October 30th came faster than Harry thought it would, so here he was, standing near the Black Lake with whole student body and staff, and awaiting soon arrival of guests from abroad. The weather that day was exceeding all expectations – on the one to ten scale of crappiness it was eleven point five – the strong frosty wind promised to bestow cold and flu on anyone who wasn't in warm headdress.

The Black Lake's usually smooth and calm surface was harshly disturbed by something huge underneath. A magnificent, if a little bit gloomy, ship emerged from large splash of lake's murky water. It (the ship) slowly began closing to the shore. Once it did, a massive anchor was thrown into water and some people, apparently Durmstrang students since they were all dressed in heavy fur coats, unhurriedly disembarked from the ship.

A middle-aged man was in the head of the strange crowd. He was of average heght, with cold black eyes and greyed black hair, dressed in fancy expensive robes.

"Albus, it's so nice to see you again, my dear friend!" The man shook Dumbledore's hand, patting the old wizard on shoulder friendly. Too friendly. Harry was ready to bet his Firebolt on a fact that there was some history between the two.

"Karkaroff. He used to be a Death Eater, before he betrayed his associates. He bargained his freedom once he was caught by aurors by telling them the names of many death eaters. If, I mean when, the Dark Lord will return this guy will be a dead man." Draco quietly said to Harry.

"It's him! Look!" Potter heard somebody exclaiming excitedly. Scanning the newcomers, he understood why his schoolmates were so trilled – Viktor Krum, in flesh and blood, was standing next to his headmaster, his face absolutely expressionless and broad figure relaxed. But Harry wasn't a star-struck moron, nor his best friends were, so the trio continued their quiet chatting to kill time.

Thunderous neighing made everyone look up at the sky. There, several majestic carriages with abraxans, huge golden coloured winged horses, harnessed to them rapidly flew towards the crowd. They landed in a surprisingly soft way – surely some very good charm work was involved there - and their doors opened.

A gigantic woman stepped out of the biggest carriage. Dumbledore and Karkaroff kissed the back of her hand, the latter after the former, and the three engaged in a small talk whilst the Beauxbatons students were leaving the carriages. The fact that most of them were girls, and attractive ones to boot, triggered a wave of excited murmur from the young men.

Then, Harry saw her: a dazzlingly beautiful platinum-blonde girl with sapphire blue eyes exited the carriage that her headmistress left a minute ago. She was proudly walking with unearthly grace, moving her long legs that mesmerized our poor hero completely. He was snapped from his delightful trance by Draco, who slapped the back of his head sharply.

"Wipe the drool from your mouth, Harry." he whispered.

The green-eyed wizard blinked thrice uncomprehendingly and shook his head.

"Thank you." Potter said.

"We are even now, Harry. Your reaction on this veela girl is strange – you resisted a hundred of them only to look like a fool in front of a single one."

Harry hid his face on arms, annoyed by his own idiocy – he became too confident about his skills and the life chose to kick him in the ass today. The girl, whose skin seemed to radiate soft light a second before, became just another very pretty girl in his eyes.

Dumbledore led the guests into the castle, continuing his conversation with his foreign colleagues. The students of Hogwarts followed after them quickly – they all were obviously cold and hungry.

The visitors were most impressed by the Great Hall, but who wasn't? Beauxbatons students sat with Ravenclaw while Durmstrang delegation accompanied Slytherin. The Bulgarians were a quiet folk, well most of them were, but the snakes found a common language with them very fast – apparently they had similar spirits. Though Harry didn't care about them at all, nor Draco and Ron did. All the Trio was caring about at the moment was what would appear on the long tables soon – Harry was told by his mentor that some French and Eastern-European foods would be added to make the guests feel more comfortable. But the world wasn't spinning around them – first things always come first: Dumbledore stood up from his chair and began his speech.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! It's my greatest pleasure to welcome you all, especially our dear guests" he smiled at the foreign students " to Hogwarts. I hope that your stay in our great school will be most delightful.

"As soon as the feast is ceased, the Tri-Wizard Tournament will be officially opened. Now please do enjoy the Feast!" he sat down and started speaking with Karkaroff about something. Harry only now noticed that the staff table had four more chairs – two were already occupied by Karkaroff and Maxime. Apparently they were expecting some other special guests.

The blonde girl, who made Harry look like a fool just half an hour ago, walked to them slowly. She was the last person that The-Boy-Who-Lived wanted getting to know at the moment, though the fact that both Ginny and Daphne were looking at her with not blinking studying eyes entertained the young man.

"Excuse me, do you need this Bouillabaisse?" she asked him. Her voice was even more magical than he imagined – melodious and utterly pleasant to ear. He calmly looked in her eyes.

"Yes, sure, you may have it all." he replied and turned his head back to his friends. Ron wasn't even paying the girl any attention – he had his passion, thank you very much, and Draco learned a bitter lesson about veela on the World Championship very well, so..

"Thank you!" she said and gave Harry a smile that showed him her even white teeth. The brilliant smile left her face as soon as she understood that he wasn't looking at her. She returned to her place at the Ravenclaw table and asked her most recent acquaintance, Penelope Clearwater – a nice brown-haired seventh year girl and the Ravenclaw prefect, a question.

"Who is this boy?"

Penelope stared at her incredulously in disbelief.

"My-my, Fleur, don't you know Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived? Where do you come from? Cabbage?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Eyes of the French girl opened widely.

"The Harry Potter! I would have never thought that he is so.. so.." she couldn't find the right word.

"Handsome? Yeah, he is quite a nice catch, but do remember that the two crazy and dangerous witches already fancy him – Daphne Greengrass and Ginny Weasley." she subtly pointed at them with her index finger. "The former comes from a dynasty of dark wizards and witches, the latter is a pure maniac and has a very disturbing set of eyes – you must see them yourself to understand me. These two had a loud and hot argument on the train trip to here, as I heard. Both were bestowed with fiery temper by Merlin so I'm not surprised at all. You don't want to be an obstacle in their way, trust me."

Fleur took a glance at the green-eyed wizard again – yes, he was handsome.. She once saw him on the photography in the Witch Weekly with this Lockhart man, but then he was twelve – he obviously had changed greatly in mere two years. In all honesty, he looked like somebody of her age.

Whilst the girls were discussing him, Harry was talking with his two best friends.

"Bloody Hell, what's this 'Boyabess' thing, mates?" Ron asked.

"It's French fish stew." Draco explained.

"Oh, I thought it's some kind of their croissant thingies."

"If Blondie never showed it to me during our stay in Malfoy manor prior to Second Year, I would have never guessed that Bouillabaisse is a variation of fish stew.." Harry commented.

"Why then haven't I seen it?" Ron questioned.

"You overslept the dinner that day." Draco answered.

Harry nodded in confirmation.

The two empty chairs were finally filled – Ludo Bagman and Mr Crouch took their places, the former next to Karkaroff, the latter next to Madame Maxime.

The feast finally finished and all the dishes disappeared in a blink of an eye. Dumbledore again got up on his feet.

"The Tournament is about to start, my dear friends. But before we bring in the Casket I would like to explain a few things to you.

"Casket?" Ron whispered questioningly.

"Yes, you know, the casket that contains the Goblet." Draco replied quietly.

The students that were sitting around the boys shushed them.

The Hogwarts headmaster introduced the two most recent newcomers and the students applauded politely.

"Mr Crouch and Mr Bagman had been working hard during the last few months on the arrangements of the Tournament. They will join Madame Maxime, Professor Karkaroff and myself as two additional judges. We five will evaluate the champions' performance."

There was a complete silence. The whole Great Hall was listening to the words of Dumbledore. The old man turned to the caretaker.

"Mr Filch, if you will be so kind."

The grumpy man brought a gem-encrusted chest to the front of the staff table.

"The champions will face three tasks, each one will be a test of their will, magic prowess, wit and ability to cope with great danger. The tasks will be spaced throughout the school year and..." Albus was explaining the rules and dangers of the Tournament to the students for the next few minutes.

"Each champion will represent his or her school and will be chosen by an impartial selector – the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore pulled out his wand and opened the casket magically and snatched a round large wooden cup that was filled to its brims with bright blue flames, that were dancing slowly, making shadows of everyone, who was close to it, play on the wall behind the staff table. He placed it on this piece of furniture and started talking again.

"The Goblet will be placed in the Entrance Hall tonight – those who wish to participate should feel free to enter their names. The procedure requires you to write your name and the name of your school on a piece of parchment and throw it into the Goblet. You have twenty four hours – tomorrow night, on Halloween, the names of three most worthy will be known by everyone here. I must inform you though that everyone under the age of seventeen will be stopped by the Age Line that I myself will draw. Now, everyone needs going to bed – tomorrow you will need your strengths at their full." he finished his speech and gave our hero a look which obviously meant 'To my office, my boy. Now'.

Harry told his friends to go to the dorms without him, and started slowly walking to the headmaster's office. He didn't notice that a pair of deep blue eyes was following him until he left the Hall.

Penelope waved her hand slowly in front of Fleur's face.

"Hey!" the brown haired girl clicked her fingers a few times. "Are you here? Hello?"

"Ah? What? Oh, I just was deep in thoughts" the blonde said, rubbing her temples.

"We need to go now."

They stood up and left the Great Hall, parting their ways in the Entrance Hall – Fleur went to the carriages, Penelope returned to her dorms.

"Enter, Harry."

The office of the old wizard hadn't changed a lot: same portraits of his predecessors, some fancy instruments whose purpose Harry didn't know nor he wanted to. His mentor was sitting behind his large table as usually, his blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles... well, all his body language showed the young man that they were going to discuss a serious matter. Harry conjured a mahogany chair and sat atop of it - he learned the trick from Albus during the stay in Dumbledore's home. It warmed the heart of the old man, returning some twinkle in his eyes.

"My boy, tonight, at three am, is the perfect time for you to subtly put your name into the Goblet. The Age Barrier won't be a problem for you - you are seventeen, but be sure that somebody sees you. Tomorrow, when you will become the Hogwarts champion, you must look greatly surprised, maybe even enraged, as if you are completely dissatisfied with the turn of events. Take this." Albus pulled out a phial with golden liquid and gave it to Harry.

"What is it?" the green-eyed wizard asked.

" 'Felix Felicis' - the Fortune Potion, extremely hard to make and toxic in large doses, but its benefits completely overshadow its complexity – depending on dosage can make you exceptionally lucky for a period of time, up to twenty four hours. I want you to drink it before the dinner. The potion will ensure that you won't make some mistake. I will cover you up in the face of public – just do look as if you really were surprised." Dumbledore exhaled slowly and a smile showed up on his lips. "Lemon Sherbet, Harry?"

"Yes, please... Thanks."

Harry had written a letter to his godfather so he went to the West Tower where the Owlery was located. A distinct odour of owl faeces permeated the large room and though Potter surely wasn't a sissy, the smell irritated him a lot. The young man wanted to leave this place as soon as possible.

"Hedwig, my girl, come here!" he called.

His beautiful snowy white owl flew to him and perched on his right shoulder, nipping his ear lobe affectionately. She hooted happily and stared at him with her enormous eyes, awaiting his words.

"Hedwig, I need you to bring this letter to Sirius." he said, caressing her gently. Once he had tied the letter to her leg, she flew away in the general direction of London.

He took out his invisibility cloak.

There was a lot to do.

The next morning found his godfather eating his breakfast, slowly shuffling the food with spoon. Yes, he was happy to be free and everything, but it was so boring now! Without the company of his godson there was nothing for him to do – sure, he could go out and find some adventures, but he was in no mood to do so. Or find a work.

Nah..

He heard a bird flap and sharply turned his head at the general direction of sound. A letter from Harry!

He quickly untied the letter from Hedwig's leg and gave her some water and bacon.

"Let's see.." he muttered and began reading.

Hello Sirius,

I hope you are fine. Well, as much as such an old fart can be.

Have you seduced a veela as you bragged you would?

No need to answer – of course you haven't.

I'm okay, a bit excited even – Champions of the Tournament

will be announced tomorrow.

It's such a shame I can't compete because of my age.

Do not sit on your ass doing nothing for too long:

People say haemorrhoid stings like hell.

Bye,

Harry.

"Why, you little..." Sirius erupted swearing like a shoemaker that hit his finger with his hammer accidentally. He immediately began writing the response. Unfortunately, Hedwig had left already, so when the man finished his letter he, not having his own owl, had no one to send it with. Kreacher was forgotten, of course.

Fleur Delacour sat behind the desk in her room: inspiration palpably hit her in the head when she saw the youngest hero of the Wizarding World – if somebody would know that the Veela of Beauxbatons had a silly interest in writing poetry and was not-so-latent romantic, they would die out of laugher.

"No.." she muttered and crossed out a line she didn't like. She had been unpopular in her school because of her heritage, but keeping a promise she gave to her parents - that she wouldn't speak French during her stay in England – made her school-mates avoid her by 5 feet at minimum. She started scribbling again: the blonde girl really hoped that one certain green-eyed wizard would like it.

Ron Weasley had never laughed so much in his entire fourteen years of life, not that Draco Malfoy had had, too.

"..you imprisoned me within!" Draco pompously exclaimed.

"My only love, my only dream.." Ron said dramatically.

"You alone." they chorused and burst in laugher again.

Ron wiped tears from his eyes with his sleeve.

"Hey, falcon" the redhead called his famous best friend, mimicking the flapping of wings – he really had a talent in acting. "Who do you think could send you this?" A long meaty finger pointed at the letter that The-Boy-Who-Lived held in his hands, reading it again and again, not paying the tall guy or the blond any attention.

"But, who?" Harry asked no one in particular. Whilst his two friends thought the letter from some stranger was silly and idiotic, he didn't think so. It (the letter) was saturated with aroma of fine women's perfume, intoxicating our hero better than any wine, lifting his mood high to the skies. It made him breathe fully, forgetting all his mundane problems.

Her (It was she... Right?) letter warmed his heart greatly – yes, he did receive love letters from many girls, but written in such way? The young man was sure it wasn't Ginny, nor it was Daphne – the very idea of those two writing poetry made him cackle ironically. They were smart, of course, but his tongue couldn't turn to call them creative – absolute opposite.

As an already doomed prey of proud falcon

Can't fight the iron grip that holds it,

I can not deny a cell

You have imprisoned me within.

It doesn't have stone walls,

Dementors or Aurors and locked doors.

No, it's much worse:

I do not even wish to fight for my escape.

And I'm happy here

Like I have never been before.

This cell, of course, is feelings towards you,

My only love, my only dream:

You alone.

Now I have only purpose in my life:

To make you rise me to the highest skies.

I do not fear death, humiliation, pain -

Just you rejecting me

And leaving me in wane!

He felt.. flattered. A small smile wasn't going to leave his face for a long time..

Everyone in the Great Hall went silent as Dumbledore got on his feet. He wasn't his usual jovial self at the moment – seriousness was radiating from him. Many observers only then saw the other side of Albus.

The one which was cold and no-nonsense taking.

The Goblet of Fire was carefully brought in front of the staff table again by Hagrid . The old wizard was precise – as soon as he approached the Goblet, its flames changed in colour and spat a piece of parchment, whose corners were a little burnt. Dumbledore skilfully snatched it from the air and read the name.

"The Champion of Beauxbatons – Fleur Delacour."

Male half of the young people in the Hall applauded enthusiastically; it seemed that the female one wasn't as friendly.

The blonde gracefully floated to the side room, holding her head high proudly. As soon as she entered, though, her shoulders fell.

"What have I got myself into?" Fleur thought.

Another piece was caught by the Hogwarts headmaster.

"The champion of Durmstrang – Viktor Krum."

The wave of ovation was deafening this time – the guy obviously had a lot of fans.

The youngest global quidditch star confidently entered the same room.

The last piece of parchment was read.

"The Champion of Hogwarts -" Dumbledore's eyebrows rose in surprise. ".. Harry Potter."

Complete silence fell on the Hall – the kind of silence which you can fill a cup with and drink.

Aforementioned young man had been rehearsing his surprised act for the whole night – he expertly dropped a fork from his left hand looking thunderstruck.

He had very good friends – Ron and Draco played along very well – their expressions made Harry wonder if they three had a potential to become great wizarding actors. Maybe Brighton's Academy was better suited for them?

He slowly stood up and walked to the headmaster, who had an angry look on his face.

"But professor, how could it be?" he asked disbelievingly. "I.. I s-s-urely haven't enter my n-n-name!"

"I.. Go to the side room – we will talk in a few minutes." the old wizard whispered.

Harry didn't hear any angry exclamations from his house-mates – they weren't expecting from him anything less. His head of House looked as satisfied as his stone-cut face would allow him, meaning he wore the most sinister smirk of yet.

When Krum entered the room (the rhyme wasn't intended), Fleur quickly regained her cool appearance and nodded to him. He returned the nod and sat on the chair in front of the fireplace.

She was completely taken by surprise when her most desired walked inside and stood abruptly, rooted to the spot. The girl was a complete mess when it came to the relationships of opposite sexes – for Merlin's sake, she had thought that children came from cabbage until she turned eleven! She was worried, and when she was worried she did stupid things. It took the most of her willpower to not stutter.

"Do they need something?" she asked.

Harry turned his piercing gaze to her, making her blush and turn eyes away: it was as if he saw right through her all being.

"Yes and no." he replied.

Krum, who too was watching the young man, shook his head irritably – these foreigners made him sick sometimes with their indirect nonsense.

"And vot duz it meen?" the Durmstrang Champion asked.

"That you will understand everything in a moment."

And Harry was right: as soon as he finished his sentence, the trio of school heads entered, with content Snape and surprised McGonagall. Madame Maxime and Karkaroff were pleased by the turn of events entirely. Why not? It was a clear fact for the two that no fourth year would ever stand a chance in the kind of competition the Tri-Wizard Tournament was. Dumbledore put his hands on Harry's shoulders and shook them.

"Harry, did you put your name in the Goblet?" he asked him directly.

"No, professor Dumbledore – professor Snape can confirm that I was nowhere near it." Potter answered, looking in the black eyes of his head of House.

"Mr Potter was personally escorted by me to the Slytherin dorms once we finished his personal lesson." Severus said, his voice its usual cold self.

"What kind of lesson?" Karkaroff asked. He seemed to do this just to annoy the man – obviously he didn't care nor he wanted the full investigation.

"I teach Mr Potter Occlumency, because he has regular nightmares."

"Do you teach it to everyone?" Maxime questioned the calm man.

"Everyone capable to grasp."

"Then who entered him?" Fleur got into the conversation.

"The Tournament is notorious for its mortality rate and there are many of those who want to harm Potter." a hoarse voice said. Everyone turned at its direction and saw Alastor Moody himself in all his crippled glory. "I personally put about quarter of these bastards in Azkaban, reuniting another quarter with Merlin." The seasoned Auror veteran flashed a bloodthirsty smile. "Although I must admit that some of them successfully evaded the force of Justice." He sent a burning glare to Karkaroff, who gulped uncomfortably.

Mad Eye seemed to utterly terrify the quarter-veela, whilst the Bulgarian apparently put him in his 'Favourite Foreigners' list already.

"Zat's vot I am tolking about." Krum whispered.

Ludo Bagman and Mr Crouch entered the room – the whole event reminded Harry of some theatrical farce that somehow came true right before his eyes.

"They even entered in little groups, for Merlin's sake!" he thought.

"Extraordinary! Never before such thing happened – the Goblet used to be thought absolutely foolproof!" Bagman exclaimed. The man's enthusiasm made Harry associate him with a ball of pure positive energy that bounced around the room and fed everyone with its positiveness.

"Is there some way to not participate in the Tournament once you are chosen?" Harry asked.

"No, there isn't. Once you are in, you must participate – the magic binding contract will make sure of it. You do or you become a squib." Mr Crouch replied. His facial expression was a little detached as his tired eyes with dark bags under them were: the man looked as if he was in deep thoughts.

Karkaroff had to kill the urge to rub his hands in content – everything was going much better than he had expected. Maxime would seem to be not affected by Crouch's statement at all if a little quirk of her mouth corners didn't appear on her face.

Though these two weren't the only people who reacted that way: Harry was thanking Merlin and Felix; Albus was hiding his satisfied smile behind his beard from everyone; Fleur was thinking about the all-new opportunities that were opened for her now; Viktor was studying Harry with his unblinking stare.

What about Snape? Severus' head was halved by the most pleased smirk that had ever been plastered on his face – the Potions Master was very satisfied by the most recent turn of events – his snake was the Hogwarts Champion, not one of those Hufflepuff dunderheads, not a Ravenclaw egghead too and, thanks Merlin, not one of Gryffindor arrogant little bastards!

"The First Task will take place on November Twenty-Fourth. It will test your daring and let everybody know just how much courage you have in the face of unknown." Mr Crouch instructed. His cold gaze seemed to be turned to everyone at the same time. "The Champions are not allowed to ask for help from their peers, nor from the professors. The Champions can be armed for the First Task only with their wands. They will be informed about the Second Task at the end of the First. The Champions are exempt from the Final Tests due to the time consumption and the demanding of the Tournament."

"That's all, Albus." He turned to the headmaster of Hogwarts.

"Are you going to stay here, Barty?" the old man asked.

"No, I have an important appointment today which will require my full attention. Weatherby will replace me for now.."

"Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, tea?" Dumbledore suggested.

The two nodded positively and the trio went to the headmaster's office.

All the room occupants went to do whatever they needed to.

As Harry left the Great Hall, he saw Hermione, who was leaning on the wall near the double doors. Apparently she wanted something from him.

"Hi, Harry. Do you realize where have you got yourself into?" she asked him.

"Aww.. Don't worry, Hermione, everything is planned through and through." Potter reassured the genuinely worried girl and put his hands on her shoulders, looking into her fiery yellow eyes. "You've stopped wearing contacts." He noted.

"Yes. Dumbledore acquired a certificate stating that I have the 'Aurum Lumina' – a rare magic deviation." she whispered, placing her right hand on his chest.

"It's good to be friend of mine, no?" he said, cupping her right cheek gently. Her eyes widened.

"Harry!" She pushed him playfully. "You've become so arrogant!"

They were unceremoniously interrupted by Viktor Krum, who went into the Entrance Hall, and Fleur Delacour, who was right behind him.

They both were thunderstruck, for different reasons though: usually imperturbable Bulgarian quidditch star was looking curiously at the brown-haired girl; the beautiful quarter-veela was examining her 'possible contestant' from head to toe.

"Well, I'll see you later, Harry." Hermione bid him goodbye, kissing his cheek, and headed towards her dorms.

"Yes, later." Harry said and started going to the Main Entrance. He heard a quick succession of light footsteps clicking behind him as he stepped his foot on the soil outside.

"Harry, wait!"

He spun around quickly.

"Fleur? How may I help you?"

The voluptuous blonde caught him up, and relied on her knees, breathing heavily. She evidently didn't have a habit to run a lot, or maybe, just maybe, she wanted to show him her gorgeous chest...

Her deep blue eyes looked up at him.

"I'm a bit.. disoriented here, in your school. Would you mind showing me around?" she asked. "If you aren't busy right now, of course." was added quickly.

He smiled warmly to her.

"Sure. Let's see what I can show you first..."

Harry operatively put his right arm around her shoulders.

He wasn't so straightforward with girls usually, but

Who doesn't risk doesn't drink champagne..

AN2: thank you all for reviews.

Serialkeller: The horcrux and Ginny's soul are merged into one, so no one will suck it out from Voldegin. About Snape - a kick from steed, with Snape atop of it. Very simple, my friend)

I hope it is a unique experience for you to see Poet!Fleur, just wait until the end of the Fourth Year - I solemnly swear there will be a lot of surprises, silly and no so much.