.
Chapter Four
Unbidden Visitors and
Revelations
Remus held his wand in one hand and reached for the door with the other. "How can I be of service to you, Madam Bones?"
In the sitting room, Harry could hear the uneasiness in Remus's voice. It wasn't a coincidence that the head of DMLE was at the back door after Sirius showed himself last night.
"First you can stop trying to kiss my arse," answered the witch in a brusque voice. "Second, you can allow us into the house."
Remus raised his wand. "Not before you tell me the first thing you said to me about teaching at Hogwarts."
"As long you take that potion, I don't give a damn if you're a werewolf."
Remus kept his wand trained on her and addressed her niece. "What was your Boggart form in my class?"
"A Ministry worker dressed in black with his hat in his hand on my doorstep."
He nodded, and asked the third witch, "What did you do to earn your house twenty points from me?"
She grinned wickedly. "I hexed Malfoy—a few times."
Remus smirked.
"May we step in now?" Madame Bones asked. "I don't particularly enjoy standing in the open after what happened last night."
Remus stepped back. "Come in and close the door, but no further than the kitchen until I've asked a couple more questions." He began as soon as the door clicked shut. "What business have you here?"
"I need to talk to Sirius Black."
That was all Harry needed to hear. He stormed into the kitchen—still without a shirt—with his wand in hand. His voice was cold and lacked inflection. "My godfather is innocent. Accept it, leave, or there's going to be a bloody mess to clean up by the time we're through. It's your choice."
Susan risked a glance at her friend, then back at Harry. He almost smiled at the irony. In their second year, Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbot, and she gobbed on continuously about him being the Heir of Slytherin. Now, when he was dangerous, the little witch was just gobsmacked.
"Don't do anything rash, Potter. I think you'll like my news," Madam Bones answered. "There were reports of a powerful magic 'happening' in a Scotland graveyard last night. I had the Auror department investigate it early this morning. They found the bodies of Peter Pettigrew and five Death Eaters. A bit later, Minerva appeared at my door with my niece. I used a Pensieve to view their memories.
"A Death Eater does not fight against his own, nor does he lack The Mark. It was noticeably absent in the memory when Sirius Black helped Susan; something a trial would have proven years ago.
"That, along with Minerva providing me a memory about a conversation she had with Dumbledore, convinced me Sirius Black is innocent."
She slowly reached into her robe and pulled out The Daily Prophet.
"I've spoken to some people on the Wizengamot. Have you seen a copy of today's paper?" She asked.
"No," Mrs. Weasley answered, walking into the kitchen. "I stopped my subscription after the lies that wretch Rita Skeeter was printing."
"In that case"—she handed the paper to Remus—"Maybe you should read the headline on the first page, below the fold."
Remus took the paper and read the two headlines out loud.
SIRIUS BLACK IS INNOCENT!
The first one announced. On the other side of the page, a second headline blazed:
PETER PETTIGREW: KILLED LAST NIGHT IN GRAVEYARD!
"It's official," Madame Bones confirmed. She looked at the black dog standing at Harry's side. "A copy of the order dropping the charges and exonerating you is on the next page."
Sirius morphed into his human form, looking equal parts thankful and outraged. "Forgive me if I can't find it within myself to thank the Ministry for proclaiming my innocence after a decade at Azkaban."
"That is why I didn't ask," she responded. "I would be remiss, however, if I didn't remind you that you have a right to be heard in the Wizengamot about your wrongful imprisonment."
Sirius grinned for a moment, thinking about what was just offered to him, but the realpolitik of the day won. "As much as I would love to, it's not a good idea to undermine the Ministry with everything that happened last night."
"Oh?"
"It far outweighs what was done to me," he continued.
"Are you reading more into it than I am, Mr. Black?" she asked, her eyebrows arched high enough that Harry thought her monocle might fall out.
"I think you should let Harry explain," Sirius answered.
Madame Bones directed her focus at Harry. "Then explain."
Harry decided to be just as direct as she was. "Voldemort incarnated last night. We are at war again."
The monocle fell out and dangled by the string. "This is not a time for jokes, boy!" she snapped at him.
"Jokes?" Harry fired back, then pointed to the multihued streaks spider-webbed across his chest and shoulders. "Do you think I did this to myself? LOOK AT ME! This is the result of being the hexing-toy of the newly enfleshed Voldemort."
Harry continued to glare at her until a small, feminine hand lightly touched his chest, tracing the marks.
"Does it hurt?" Cho Chang asked.
He opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. A moment later, he turned red as Fleur walked into the kitchen, her eyes flaring at Cho caressing Harry's chest.
Harry decided to skip Cho's question and stepped back from her touch before explaining what happened.
"The other Champions and I fought a battle with Voldemort and some of his Death Eaters last night at that graveyard. That is where he was resurrected before he began cursing me. I only escaped when the other Champions came to my rescue."
"I was there too and 'Arry is telling you the truth," Fleur agreed, "though 'e is being too 'umble about 'is part in the battle."
The blood drained from Madame Bones's face.
Sirius, who had picked up the paper, flipped it over and pointed to the front page, which was an eerily still picture of Hogwarts showing the dead bodies of Death Eaters. "We need to make some fast decisions. In the last war, one of the biggest problems was the infiltration of the Ministry and the subsequent neutralization of the DMLE, specifically the Hit Wizards and the Aurors. We don't have time to be buggering about, war is coming again, and we need to know how many of them are on our side."
"Is the Order starting up again?" Madame Bones asked.
"I haven't thought about it, but it should if we can find enough members. The DMLE and specifically the Auror's department is a good place to start, at least the ones we can trust."
"Count me in," Madame Bones agreed. "Last time, I spied for the Order, so I couldn't be an official member for obvious reasons. Not this time. As for the Aurors, count on your cousin Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Daniel Proudfoot, Gawain Robards, and Gary Williamson joining immediately.
"How certain are you of their loyalty?" Remus questioned.
"They were dispatched to the graveyard and the school once we found out. This morning they came back ready rip the countryside apart looking for Death Eaters. One of our day-shift Aurors caught them casting battle-shield charms on their body armor and dispensing with backup wand holsters for second primary holsters. It took the entire day-shift of Aurors and a frantic call to the Hit-Wizards next door before they were physically restrained.
Sirius smirked, thinking about his cousin. "How'd Tonks do?"
"Four hit wizards, three Aurors, and two secretaries, though one of the secretaries got jinxed for calling her Nymphadora. Two of the three Aurors were night-shift Aurors even but had already calmed down."
"How did she manage that?" Remus asked, remembering a cute toddler that absolutely adored Sirius.
"She morphed into the form of Hagrid. It was a tense five minutes."
"Hagrid?" Sirius threw his head back and guffawed.
"She only calmed down when Shacklebolt and I faced her down. Too much respect for us, I guess, though you couldn't tell by her mouth—or her two-fingered gestures."
"Nice to see Tonks has found a way to channel the Black heritage in a positive way." Sirius smiled.
"She did well this morning too." Madame Bones continued. "Armed with the memories of Neville Longbottom, she found—"
"Neville's alive?" interrupted Harry.
Madame Bones took it in stride. "He is. Last night he saw Moody kill the heads of Durmstrang and Beauxbatans as they looked for the Champions."
"Madame Maxime!" Fleur gasped.
Harry forgot all about Neville and went to Fleur immediately. He reached around her with one arm and put his other hand on the back of her head, gently pulling her into his body and supporting her so she wouldn't fall to the ground. Fleur wrapped her arms around him tightly, leaned her head against his bare chest, and cried.
Harry swore an oath as he held her, someone was going to pay with his or her life for making this demigod of beauty break down in tears; preferably, many someones. His arms flexed and the muscles around his jaw hardened. The private oath fed his anger, which in turn empowered his magic even more.
After a couple of minutes had passed, Fleur let go of Harry and stepped back. "thank you. I'll be fine," she whispered, wiping away tears and forcing a smile for him. She walked out of the room and back up the stairs.
Harry followed to the bottom of the staircase to make sure she was okay. After being assured she was, he detoured into the sitting room and pick up the shirt Mrs. Weasley had given him to wear. Before putting it on, he noticed the remains of Fleur's tears still running down his chest. He watched as they glistened in the light and refused to dry them, knowing they belonged there.
Of course they did, he thought. After all, it was ultimately his fault. It was Harry that Voldemort was after. Regardless of what Fleur said, he did suggest all four Champions take the cup. Had Harry taken it alone, Fleur and Madame Maxime could have Disapparated as soon as the fighting began and the wards were broken.
The logic was terrible, and Harry didn't account for the three other Champions' reactions, that they would have stayed and fought at Hogwarts like everyone else. But that was normal; he was used to thinking he was at fault for everything that went wrong.
Harry pulled his shirt over his head and went back into the kitchen.
"Is Fleur okay?" Sirius asked.
"I'm not sure. She had to have known."
"Knowing it and hearing it confirmed, are vastly different," Remus reminded him.
Harry nodded, then peered up at Madame Bones. "You were saying Professor Moody killed them?"
"That's what we thought. But a few people have supplied memories of Moody suddenly transforming into Crouch Jr. It seems he timed his Polyjuice Potion to do wear off right about then. Our Aurors found Moody's eye and wooden leg left by the side of the maze."
"But . . . He's dead!" Sirius said. "I was down the corridor from him in Azkaban. I watched them take the body out of his cell."
"And you were supposed to be a Muggle-murderer, remember?" the head of DMLE reminded him. "I don't know whose body was carried out of his cell, but I saw the memories of Crouch Jr. with my own eyes this morning. It was him, with a flask of Polyjuice potion still lashed to his side as he joined in with the other Death Eaters. Anyway, it took them an hour, but Tonks found Moody locked up in the trunk in his office, or more accurately, she tripped over the trunk and heard him yell. Either way, Moody is right miffed at being held in there all year."
"I would think so," Sirius interjected. "Where is he now, and Minerva?"
"They're back at my house."
"Good. I'm going to assume they'll be part of the Order again."
"I would think so," Madame Bones agreed. "When do you want to have the first meeting?"
"As soon as possible, tomorrow night if we can find a place," Remus answered.
Mrs. Weasley rolled her eyes and entered the conversation. "What do you mean find a place? We'll have it at the Burrow."
"I'm not sure about that," Sirius interjected. "Death Eaters have to know that Harry is here. If they are watching and see known Order members from the first war arriving, all hell will break loose."
"Why would anyone believe I would want to stay at the house of my second dead family?" Harry asked. "Most probably think I am back at my relatives under the blood wards, or out of the country with Fleur by now."
Four sets of adult eyes widened at the statement. "The boy's got a good point," Madame Bones agreed.
"How many people know how you feel about your relatives?" Sirius asked.
"Now? Outside of Neville, probably only the people in this room."
Sirius acquiesced. "Alright, we'll have it here tomorrow, but I think we're foolish to push it beyond that."
"We can talk about that at the meeting," Mrs. Weasley said, effectively ending the discussion.
"How's Neville doing?" Remus asked. "I have to admit I'm surprised he made it through last night. I know he wouldn't have run, but while in my class, he didn't seem to have the aptitude to battle against Death Eaters either."
"I think he's okay," Cho answered. "Or at least as okay as we are. I spoke with him just before we came. He's with Su Li, protecting the last of the Firsties."
Harry pulled his eyebrows together. "Protecting?"
"Yeah," Susan spoke up. "It seems he found his magic last night."
"How did he do that?" Harry wanted to know.
"Do you know his story, Harry?" Madame Bones asked.
"I know about his parents if that is what you are asking."
"Do you know who did it?"
"No."
"Barty Crouch Jr., and three others, all of whom were there last night. It is not unheard of that when faced with such an emotional situation, especially when it results in anger, magic gets channeled in ways it never has before. It's the same basic reason for accidental magic."
"That makes sense," Remus surmised. "He spent a lot of extra time with me learning how to do spells. He knew them, he just couldn't push enough magic into them. I guess whatever was holding his magic back, let go last night."
"I'd say," Susan remarked. "He still tripped over his feet a few times, but he fought two Death Eaters by himself when a group of Firsties came running out of the wrong side of the Quidditch stands."
"I saw that too," said Mrs. Weasley. "Neville fought like a possessed wizard. He reminded me so much of his father last night. Frank would have been very proud of his son."
She stopped and rubbed her eyes. "Come, let me make some lunch. We can sit down. There's still much to discuss. Harry, why don't you take these two young women into the sitting room," she suggested.
"I think I owe Cho a few words in private, first. If that's okay."
Mrs. Weasley nodded and went to work in the kitchen.
Harry steered Cho to the sitting room. They sat on the settee, leaving a couple of feet between them. "I thought you should know," he started, but found he couldn't say anything else.
Cho waited patiently.
"It's about Cedric. He. . ."
She closed her eyes and cried softly. "He's dead, I thought so."
Harry nodded, still not able to speak. Somehow, it felt natural to comfort Fleur, he knew exactly what to do. It didn't hurt that she had comforted him in the cave last night, either. But Cho? What was he to do now? How did he end up here, trying to figure out a way to comfort someone who had rejected him, and doing it because the person he was rejected for, died to save him. Can my world get any more twisted about?
Cho's voice brought him back to the moment. "I thought all four of you were dead." She cried harder and Harry, not knowing what else to do, reached out to her. She slid across the settee and put both arms around him, holding him tightly and crying on his neck. He ended up wrapping his arms around her and holding her as she cried. And there's another twist. Ask a stupid question. . . .
"He was brave, Cho. If it weren't for him, Voldemort would've killed me."
Cho pulled back. "I—I don't want to believe he's back. He's going to go after you again, isn't he?"
Harry couldn't help but notice the worried look she gave him, nor the renewed tears.
X ~ X ~ X ~ X
Neither could Fleur, who was sitting at the top of the stairs.
Sirius, who had excused himself to the bathroom when they sat down for tea, walked by her on his way back down the stairs. "Anything wrong?" he asked.
"No. Why?"
"Because you look like my mother when my father set off for work. Trust me, that's not a compliment."
"What do you mean?"
"She hated him going to work."
"Why would she 'ave a problem with that?"
Sirius chuckled. "My father worked with several gorgeous witches like the young beauty on the settee with Harry."
"'E's only fourteen." She replied curtly, laughing at the idea that someone could think she liked Harry in that way.
"Alright, I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he said, before heading back down the stairs.
Fleur couldn't resist watching Harry as he comforted the young witch, thinking about him doing the same for her just a few minutes before, and pondering the dichotomy that was Harry Potter. Fleur had thought long and hard about the books she'd seen the night before and didn't like any of the conclusions she came to, especially since the two adults closest to Harry had warned her that he could easily slip into the Dark Arts before he fulfilled the prophecy—though it wasn't said in those words. Yet here he was, tender and caring, comforting a young witch that had turned him down for the Yule Ball.
Fleur remembered how she thought it funny that Harry didn't have a date for that night until almost the very end; it was more proof that Harry was just a boy with a scar and a hard luck story, not special like her. Fleur sighed at the memory and quietly went up the next flight of stairs to Ginny's bedroom. She sat on the bed, ashamed of herself, ashamed of how she had treated Harry at the beginning of the year, and ashamed of how she had treated his friends.
True, she was sick of teenage (and adult) wizards being dumbstruck by her whenever she passed by, but could she blame them? When was the last time they saw someone as beautiful as her?
Mon Dieu, je suis incroyablement arrogant!
Since when, was arrogance ever beautiful? she asked herself in response. Never, She answered, and that meant she wasn't beautiful either. Sure, the Veela might be, but Fleur was far from it. If someone ever got passed the Veela magic and the looks, what would they find? What would be beautiful about her then? What if a blind wizard ever sat down to speak with her, what would he find beautiful about her? The questions raced through Fleur's mind unbidden, and unanswered. Worse, the more she dug to find an answer, the emptier she felt. How could she have let herself come to this?
A half-hour later and spent from the self-interrogation, Fleur curled in on herself, hugging the uncomfortable pillow. She lifted it up to fluff it and found something stuffed inside the pillowcase.
It was a small book bound together with string. Every page was a letter addressed to Harry. At first she put it down on the dresser. But after a few minutes, the compulsion to read it overcame her.
~ . ~ . ~
5 October, 1990
Dear Harry Potter,
My name is Ginevra Weasley, but please don't call me that. I go by Ginny. Do you like to be called any other name? My older brothers call Ron (he's the youngest brother) many names, but I don't think he likes any of them.
My mummy told me the story how you saved everyone from Boldevort. I'm sad you lost your mummy and daddy. I fight with my brothers a lot. But I would cry very much if anything happened to them, or my mummy and daddy.
I guess I should say thank you for saving most of my family. Mummy says my two Uncles died because of Boldevort, but I didn't know them.
I hope we can meet someday.
Ginny.
~ . ~ . ~
Fleur drew her hand across the writing, feeling the imprint of the quill in the pages. There was something so innocent, so pure about this Ginny's concern for Harry. It stood in stark contrast to what she'd seen from many of the students towards Harry those first months last fall. It also further highlighted Her own attitude towards Harry. Quickly, she flipped a few more pages and began reading before thinking too much on that subject again.
~ . ~ . ~
01 September, 1991
Dear Harry Potter
I SAW YOU TODAY HARRY!
You were at the train station and didn't know how to get to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. You met my mum and brother Ron. I hope you like him. He can be a prat (don't tell mum I said that, she thinks I'm too "mouthy," whatever that means), but he's still one of my favorite brothers.
I'm sorry I hid behind mum when I saw you, but I didn't know what else to do! You looked lost, and a little scared. (Cute too!) But I don't believe you were scared. How can you be scared after facing Voldemort? I even saw the scar. Did you know you keep trying to cover it up? I bet you didn't even know you were trying to. Mum says my brothers try and do that to their freckles, but I think she means their hair is just getting too long.
I hope you have a good year at Hogwarts this year. Next year, I will be old enough to go too. I am so excited!
Ginny.
~ . ~ . ~
Fleur smiled, then laughed, wishing that she could have gotten to know the girl, instead of keeping her distance all year. Now, the only memories she had of this Ginny was Harry carrying her small, dead body across the grounds, tripping over the bloodied remains of his friends while crying—
Quickly, Fleur turned a few more pages and began reading before the memories came flooding back.
~ . ~ . ~
31 August, 1992
Dear Harry Potter.
It is weird writing this letter to you when you are sleeping three floors up! I can't believe you're staying in my house. I know it's not much, we get made fun of because we don't have much money. But I wouldn't trade it for anything. I love it here because it's home. I hope you feel like this is home too.
I'm glad my brothers broke you out of that house. Why did your Uncle bar the window and lock your door from the outside? Ron says they fed you through a little hole cut into it. Mum is miffed about how skinny you are. She says they barely fed you. Ron's told us before that they make you cook for everyone else and let your cousin beat you up and that they don't care about you. He also says you didn't get any real Christmas presents from them, and never have . . .
~ . ~ . ~
. . . Fleur was appalled. The savior of the Wizarding world was treated like trash. How could they ignore him, shunt him off to the side, and not care about him? How could I? She covered her face and cried, her heart rending apart. 'Ow many have others have I treated like 'Arry? 'Ow many others 'ave I dismissed without a thought about them? 'Ow. . . 'ow many others 'ave I 'urt with mon arrogance?
Once again, question after question raced through her mind. But, after an interminable amount of time, her thoughts cleared and she was able to pinpoint where these changes began; the second task.
Maybe no one else could tell, but in hindsight, Fleur knew that something was different. The potential loss of Gabrielle shocked her into realizing how important some things were and in relation, how many other things weren't so important. She couldn't remember the last time she had complained about Hogwarts. Sure, she still had her judgments, but even those were more out of habit now. She'd even begun to go out of her way to say hi to Harry, sorry for how she treated him earlier in the year.
Except, none of that explained why she was she having one epiphany after another today. What was happening to her? Even as she asked the question, she knew the answer. I'm changing. What I saw last night, what I experienced, what I learned about 'Arry's life and mine in comparison, has caused me to change.
The thought shocked Fleur, and she was quickly shocked again when she came to understand what the change was. I'm starting to care about people!
The last epiphany, however, led straight to another question. When did I stop caring? It wasn't like she grew up that way. As a little girl, she was extremely empathetic toward others, including the time when she was four and punched a boy for making her friend cry, then cried because she made the boy cry by punching him.
Fleur smiled at the memory. When did that stop, puberty? Or at least the Veela version of it? That's when everyone else's reactions to her changed, so she shut them out and stopped caring.
Fleur took a deep breath, emotionally and physically exhausted. She picked Ginny's letters back up and finished the one she was reading before putting them away.
~ . ~ . ~
. . . Harry, I am sorry no one else cares for you. If it helps, I do. I love you, and I promise you I will love you even if no one else does. (oh bollocks, thank you Merlin I'm not EVER going to send this to Harry. IF ONE OF MY BROTHERS IS READING THIS, I'LL BAT BOGEY HEX YOUR ARSE OFF!)
~ . ~ . ~
The letters hit the mattress and Fleur snatched up the pillow, pushing it against her face to stifle the laughter.
X ~ X ~ X ~ X
"I hope I didn't upset your witchfriend," Cho said to Harry downstairs about the same time.
"Witchfriend?"
"Don't be coy, Harry."
"I don't—"
Cho was surprised at the lost look on Harry's face. "You mean you're not?"
"I don't know what you're even talking about!" Harry responded, a little frustration showing through.
Cho giggled. "Now I think I know why you didn't ask me out, even though I flirted with you during our Quidditch match last year."
"Sorry?"
"When I cut you off and like a gentleman, you swerved out of the way instead of hitting me and grabbing the Snitch. Do you remember how I smiled at you when Wood was yelling for you to knock me off my broom?"
"Yeah," Harry gave her a small smile.
"I waited outside the locker rooms to congratulate you that night, but you were with the rest of your House. Then there just never seemed to be the right time. The rest of that year I hoped that you would approach me, but you never did. This year, I was hoping you would ask me to the Yule Ball, I even said no to Cedric originally. But I finally decided that you didn't like me, so I agreed to go with him instead."
"Oh."
Susan, having come in after Harry finished telling Cho about Cedric, piped up. "It's probably a good thing Harry has no clue when it comes to witches. Could you imagine him if he actually knew and acted on the fact that half the witches at school fancied him?"
"What?"
Cho laughed. "Harry, if you're going to spend time with witches, you have to work on giving more than one-word answers."
"Why?" Susan retorted. "I doubt talking was a priority for the witches that wanted to get him into the broom closet—especially for a couple of the Seventh Years."
Harry blushed something fierce.
"And they were very pretty, including the one from Slytherin," Cho clarified.
"Oh bog off, now you're just taking the mickey out of me."
"Oh?" Susan said, "I heard the Slytherin girl is working at Fortescue's ice cream parlor this summer. She made it through last night, actually helped us in the beginning. Take a trip to Diagon Alley and pop in to say hi this summer. I'm sure she'd love to . . . serve you."
The last two words, delivered with a sultry voice and little shake of the head left Harry looking like a Hippogriff caught in the headlights of an oncoming train.
Cho giggled again. "You really are a neophyte when it comes to witches, aren't you?"
"Neo-what?"
"Neophyte, a beginner," Cho informed him. "You're completely lost. Okay, getting back to our original topic, let me help. If I am reading all the signs correctly—though I'm no Trelawney–"
Cho's Seeker skills came in handy as she caught a pillow just before it hit her in the head.
After sticking her tongue out at Susan, Cho started again. "Okay Harry, follow me. When a witch stares at another witch when the second said witch is touching a wizard, that's a sign. When first said witch is comfortable enough to cry on said wizard's shoulder and holds said wizard as said witch does, that's a possible sign. When said witch sits at the top of the stairs and watches said wizard comfort second said witch much like the first said witch, with a look of malice, that's a third sign.
"Now, like I said, I'm no Trelawney"—Cho checked to make sure the air was clear of pillows—"but guessing at the signs, I'd say the whole thing should be rated at possible to probable."
"The whole what?" Harry asked, utterly confused. "What is possible to probable? What signs? What are you talking about?"
Cho looked at Susan, gob smacked and Susan shook her head at the idiocy of wizards.
"Are you ready girls?" Madame Bones asked from the table on the other side of the wall.
"Sure," Susan answered. The three of them stood up. Susan walked over and surprised Harry by giving him a hug and kissing him on the cheek. "I never apologized for the stupid stuff I said two years ago, or for my part in the 'Potter Stinks' campaign this year."
"Don't worry about it," Harry mumbled.
"I shouldn't have done it. There are only a few of us at Hogwarts who knows what's its like to lose our family. I can't imagine what it must have felt like to have most of the school turn on you as well. . . twice, actually. I really am sorry Harry."
"I don't know what to say," Harry finally admitted. "Thank you, I guess."
But Susan understood. The corners of her lips pulled up. "She is gorgeous, by the way."
"Who?"
Susan shook her head and walked away laughing. Cho hugged Harry as well, careful to not hurt his chest. She took his head in her hands and tilted it down just enough to look directly into his eyes. "I am glad I dated Cedric. He was a good wizard and very caring. But I am sorry I didn't seek you out after the night of our match last year. I would have loved to spend many evenings watching the sun set with you."
She leaned in and kissed him softly. "Please don't succumb to Gryffindor stupidity and go rushing into danger."
"Gryffindor stupidity, what do you mean?" Harry asked, a little surprised, and miffed if Cho read it right.
"Most of your Housemates could have made it safely out of the battle. But they chose to run toward the oncoming Death Eaters. They all gave their lives to protect the younger ones."
"So did your House. I saw their bodies in the trees. I know you stayed to help as well."
"The difference is, if you were there, I know you would have been in the very front." She paused before starting again. "But it's just you now. Ron isn't with you to get into trouble and Hermione isn't there to bail you out. I don't want to even think what would happen to you if Death Eaters caught you."
Biting her lip, she turned to leave and saw Fleur standing at the bottom of the stairs. Cho walked up to her and whispered into her ear, "Please take care of him."
"Girls, let's go! We need to be home before it gets dark." Madame Bones called out a second time.
Susan walked into the kitchen, followed by Fleur and a now bemused Cho, who, from the look on Fleur's face, knew that neither one of them had any idea how they possibly felt towards each other. It was Ron and Hermione all over again, and everyone at the school but them saw their spats for what they were.
"Ms. Delacour, have you let your father know you are safe?" Madame Bones asked once Fleur was in the kitchen.
"Non, I thought about sending a Patronus Charm, but it wouldn't make it that far. I don't 'ave an owl and there's no way I'm making their owl fly across the Mange. According to Molly, it'd probably end up drowning in the ocean."
The head of DMLE drew her cloak around herself. "I'll try to get word to your father through the Ministry. You also need to know that according to International Wizarding Statutes, all foreign wizards and witches are entitled to create or have a Portkey created without prosecution during time of conflict. Since you are decidedly not a pure-blood and I fear we are at the beginning of a second pure-blood war, I suggest you do it soon, whether you decide to stay or not. If the Ministry falls, the Portkey will still be operative, but if you wait, my replacement in a new Ministry will have the power to create wards that stop the creation of Portkeys.
"I fear what they would do to a beautiful young foreign witch like you who isn't a pure-blood. Do you understand what I am saying?"
"Oui, Mademoiselle, I understand. Would I be the only one that can use it?"
"No. Anyone acting as a protector could Portkey with you to see you safely home"—she turned to Harry—"especially if that person is targeted as well."
"then I will do it as soon as you leave, thank you."
The three witches walked out the back door to the apparition point. Sirius, Remus, and Harry walked with them to the back fence and watched them Disapparate.
"That was an interesting visit," Remus said as he started back towards the Burrow.
"I'd say. Never did find out how she knew I was here."
"The dog smell?" Harry asked, then took off running as Sirius transfigured back into a dog and gave chase.
Looking out the back window, Fleur was getting as much enjoyment watching them as they.
Unbeknownst to her, Molly was leaning against the counter, watching Fleur watching them, and smiling herself.