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Chapter Six
A Burrow Full of Truth
The sun was shining through the bedroom window, brightening the room and gradually bringing Harry out of a deep slumber. A warm breeze blew across his chest and a light, intoxicating scent permeated the air. Harry refused to open his eyes, hoping to fall back asleep and enjoy what little heaven this world was currently offering.
The breeze blew again. Gradually waking up, he felt pressure against his chest, but it lessened as the warm breeze wafted over him once more. Other parts of his body began reporting sensations, each one a variation of 'soft and delicate'. The pressure on his chest increased and decreased in synchronous dance-step with the warmth breeze.
What perfected the moment, was a soft cross between a purr and a sigh.
Fleur snuggled closer to Harry, one arm under his head and the other folded between them, her hand on his chest pressing into him in rhythm with her breathing, her legs touching his – her bare legs, bare up to her knickers. . . .
Harry, now definitely awake, quickly banished the thought even as Fleur's breath blew across his chest again. But the dreams he'd had the last two nights, coupled with the current sensations of flesh and breath held his mind hostage.
As Harry lay transfixed, Fleur was being pulled out of her own slumber by the feel of Harry's warm body. She'd never felt so comfortable in a wizard's arms.
She decided to remain silent, thinking instead about what could be. All she had to do was open her eyes, stretch a little and kiss him. A single, deep passionate kiss was all that was needed to tell him what she was felt for him deep in her soul. The questions and concerns could wait for later – but what if later didn't come? Is that even more reason to act now? What if later did come and she found that she didn't like him like she thought she did?
For all of Fleur's beauty and innate sensuality, she had never had a boyfriend before. There had been dates and a good bit of kissing, even more than that a few times though she was still a virgin (which made her cousins laugh when they found out), but for all of that, she was almost as inexperienced as Harry when it came to relationships, and that made her unsure of herself when it came to real feelings. It wasn't really her fault. Most wizards only showered her with lust. Since that wasn't a deep emotion, she never had have to respond with her own emotions, or understand them.
But Harry? It was just one more thing that took her by surprise. He kept her guessing, and she found herself drawn to that as well, but what if that died out and how important is that and what about his age and what if that doesn't matter and why am I so confused and what if this was all part of a Veela's way of falling in love and Mon Dieux did I just think the word love? I really need to talk to Maman, she'll understand. At least I can wait until I get to France and not spend every waking moment around Harry before I make a choice.
But the way I feel here, lying in his arms, is. . . right. Fleur sighed and snuggled even closer, deciding to enjoy the stillness of the morning and ignore all the questions racing around in her head.
X ~ X ~ X ~ X
Molly descended the stairs looking rather confused. "Have either of you seen Fleur?"
"No. Harry neither, why?" asked Remus, looking over the top of his book.
"I just went to wake her up and she's not in her bed. Did she say anything to either of you last night about going anywhere?"
"No. We talked about Harry and Neville," Remus remembered, "though she seemed upset about everything that's happened to Harry."
"I'd say," Sirius agreed. "The way she worried about him last night. . ." his voice trailed off and after a moment of contemplation, a grin grew from ear to ear. Molly quickly turned to make her way up five flights of stairs as fast as possible. Sirius came up right behind her, refusing to miss an opportunity to take the mickey out of his godson. Remus followed in the hopes of keeping everyone alive.
X ~ X ~ X ~ X
Fleur and Harry were still lying in bed, pretending to be asleep when the door flew open. "HARRY JAMES POTTER WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Molly exploded.
"Mrs. Weasley!" Harry spun around so fast he got tangled in the bed sheets and almost fell right out of the bed.
"Don't 'Mrs. Weasley' me!" she thundered back at him. "I want to know what you are doing in bed with a witch in my house!"
"I. . . I don't know."
"Isn't that a shame!" Sirius chimed, stepping into the room.
"Don't encourage him," Molly snapped.
"I don't think he needs any encouragement at this point."
Molly cast a withering glare at Sirius.
"What? I just made sure he knew how to properly ward his wand yesterday. That's not encouraging him, it's being a good godfather!"
"OUT!" she shouted at the same time Remus grabbed him by the back of the shirt and forced him from the room.
Molly turned back to the couple in bed.
"Fleur."
"Oui, Molly?"
"Would you mind explaining to me why you are in bed with a fourteen year old wizard?"
"Molly," Remus interjected, "maybe we should wait until—"
"I AM NOT WAITING!" she exploded again. "I want to know why Frenchie thinks she can take Harry away from me!"
"Frenchie?" Fleur spat out, ready to showcase all the interesting English words she learned at Hogwarts during the year.
Remus cut in. "Molly, no one is taking anyone away from you!"
"MY WIZARDING ARSE THEY'RE NOT!" Molly screamed as she spun around to face Remus. "Don't you DARE tell me that. They took my whole family away from me! My brothers, my husband, my sons, my daughter" –tears streaked down her cheeks – "and now she's taking Harry away! He's my last child and I can't lose him. I can't lose hi-m." Her tirade ended in sobs.
Sirius stepped into the room again and put his arms around her, easing her back down the stairs to the kitchen.
Remus waited until they were out of earshot before speaking to Harry and Fleur.
"I think you gave Molly a bit of a surprise."
"Zhis isn't what it looks like," Fleur immediately began to protest.
Remus laughed. "Do you know how many times I heard Sirius say the same thing when I was a Prefect? Don't worry, in this case, I don't need to know."
"Non, you do. 'Arry 'ad a very bad dream last night. 'E was yelling and clutching at 'is scare in pain. I was in zhe other bed, but when I 'eard 'Arry, I climbed in bed with 'im so I could give 'im better dreams. What else could I do? 'E was in so much pain and I 'ave never seen a scar bleed before."
At the word "bleed," Remus crossed the room in three steps, taking Harry's head in his hands and inspecting the scar.
"It was a very nice thing you did for him," he said a few moments later, "though I think 'better dreams' was probably an understatement, depending on how strong your magic is."
Fleur blushed, then blushed again when Harry looked at her.
"Is that why I've been dreaming about. . ." he stopped, turned red himself, and refused to finish the sentence.
"Yes, 'Arry. Zhat is why you 'ad dreams about me zhe last two nights. I used my magic to 'elp you 'ave good dreams, instead of dreaming about what you went through, or whatever it was last night."
Finished with his impromptu checkup, Remus let go of Harry's head. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine, thanks to Fleur, I guess."
Remus chuckled. "What were you dreaming about before Fleur decided to help you?"
"It's not important."
"I think your former DADA professor should be the one to determine if a bleeding Curse Scar and dreams that wake you up screaming in the middle of the night are or are not important, don't you agree Fleur?"
"Oui. 'E's right."
Harry leaned against the headboard, communicating his dislike at the turn of the conversation.
"Harry, we need all the information we can get. If the curse-scar that Voldemort gave you is hurting at the same time that you're dreaming, there are a number of things it may mean, especially with the other things you've told us."
"What other zhings? What are you 'olding back from me 'Arry?" Fleur demanded to know, remembering her conversation with Remus and Sirius the previous night.
Harry tried to ignore her, but Fleur continued to glare at him until he couldn't stand it anymore.
"Fine!" he said somewhat petulantly, breaking eye-contact with Fleur and turning back to Remus. "I was wrong. Voldemort made five Horcruxes, not including the diary we already know about." He purposefully left himself out.
"'Orcruxes? 'E made 'Orcruxes?"
"You know of Horcruxes?" Remus couldn't hide his surprise.
"Of course. Zhey're tied in with Rusalka myths in Slavic culture. A Rusalka was a beautiful young woman who was murdered and took zhe form of a nymph, succubus, or ghost. She couldn't die until 'er murder was avenged. In zhe myths, zhe murderer is said to create 'orcruxes so 'e – always a 'e – can't be killed, which explains why Rusalka are always around. Zhe Polish expand on zhe myth, calling zhe Rusalka 'Wila'. Wila are supposed to be strong fighters and able to lure men to do whatever zhey want. Zhese are zhe myths of our origins, told to Veela children. I didn't know 'Orcruxes were real."
"They are. Are there any myths about the Horcruxes themselves?" Remus pressed.
"No," she answered. "'Ow do you know 'e made a 'Orcrux?"
"Because I already destroyed one in my second year," Harry answered with a smirk.
Fleur's head snapped around so fast her blond hair hit both Harry and Remus in the face. "You did what?"
"You heard right. He's already destroyed a Horcrux, but enough about this," Remus added. "Get dressed and come downstairs for breakfast so we can explain everything to Molly."
He left the room and Harry slid down into the bed, rubbing his eyes. "When you said you were going to blame me if Mrs. Weasley found us sleeping together like yesterday, I didn't think you were going to set me up."
Fleur slapped him playfully on the chest.
"Oh, zut! I forgot. I'm sorry," she breathed as Harry winced. "Let's get zhe rest of you 'ealed."
It took longer this time as there were many more marks on his chest and arms. Sirius even came back to check on them, but after sticking his head in the room, he went down stairs without a word.
"I zhink zhat is zhe last one," Fleur announced twenty-five minutes later.
"Thanks, I um, . . . with everything happening the last couple of days, I've. . . um—you've been. . . ." Harry stopped and stared at his hands.
Fleur decided to help him out. "Is it about zhe dreams?"
"No!"
She was successful (though barely) in restraining her laughter at his reaction. "If it is, 'Arry, it's okay. You don't have to be embarrassed, I'm zhe one that caused you to dream about me."
"That's not that big of a deal—"
Fleur pursed her lips and widened her eyes slightly, again flirting with Harry against her own will, or with it, she didn't even know anymore. Either way, she got the desired response.
"I don't mean you're not a big deal bodily—"
Fleur raised an eyebrow.
"Not bodily, I didn't mean it physically!"
Unmercifully, Fleur pulled out her 'hurt little girl' look to torture/flirt with Harry some more. "You don't zhink being close to me physically is a big deal?"
"No—"
She gave him another look.
"I meant yes, it's great being with you physically!"
Now both platinum blonde eyebrows were raised.
"NO! Not like that! It was only a dream, how would I know what—"
Fleur went for the kill-shot. "Was I good in your dream, 'Arry?"
He spluttered and went silent, flushing red before getting out of bed to leave the room in embarrassment, only to find that Fleur's healing hands and the current conversation had put him in the same state he was in the previous night.
Harry quickly jumped back into bed, laid on his stomach and pulled the covers up over his head.
Mirth danced across Fleur's beautiful features and she decided that she'd tortured Harry enough.
"It's okay. I know you would 'ave found it wonderful in your dream. A Veela's magic guarantees zhat you dream about me. Zhe amount of magic I push determines 'ow sexual your dream is. 'Owever, your own imagination supplies zhe rest. I pushed a good amount of magic because I didn't want you to suffer. I wanted you to zhink about me rather zhen zhe nightmares and I wanted to make sure zhey would not come back."
"Oh trust me, they didn't," Harry mumbled from under the covers, to Fleur's humor.
She reached over and pulled the covers back so she could see him. "Zhat's good, 'Arry, please don't be embarrassed about zhem. Zhey were my choice. I was only teasing a moment ago."
"Why?"
"Why was I teasing you?"
"No, why did you do that for me? Why are you staying around?"
For a brief moment, Fleur thought about throwing all caution to the wind and baring her heart to Harry, but that path wasn't one yet to be decided upon. She picked another, but just as valid reason. "Because I made a promise to your 'eadmaster zhat I would stay with you."
"You don't have to do that. I've been on my own many times before."
"Non, 'Arry, I will – and do you know why?"
"You really don't—"
"Answer me, 'Arry. Do you know why?"
"No," he finally confessed.
Fleur sat straight up and opened her eyes wide, bouncing on the bed in a rather humorous imitation of Dobby. "Because, 'Arry Potter sir is great wizard, yes he is! Fleur Delacour stay with 'Arry Potter sir. Bad wizards don't know about Veela anger, but teach 'em Fleur Delacour will! Teach bad wizard real good Sir."
Her attempt at levity somewhat succeeded and Harry cracked a smile.
Then, looking at her again, he began laughing.
"You're not laughing at my impersonation of Dobby, are you?" she asked, somehow already knowing his response.
"No," he answered, truthfully.
"Zhen what is 'Arry Potter laughing at Sir?"
He laughed even harder. "I just had a vision of you with Dobby's eyes and ears."
Fleur playfully swatted him again.
"Hey! Dobby doesn't do that."
"Non? Zhen what does 'e do?"
"He usually brings me presents and gives me food."
"You really care for 'im, don't you?" Fleur asked, noticing how his body language softened while talking about Dobby. What she didn't notice however, was how that small observation fell into place for her, or what it meant when it did.
"Yeah. I do. He risked much for me."
"Hmm," Fleur pondered. It would take her a couple years to realize why Harry's friendship with Dobby caused her to ask the next question.
"Does he do zhis?"
Fleur leaned in, lightly touching her lips to his. It wasn't the kiss she thought about before, the deeply intense kiss meant to confess her heart to him. This kiss was innocent, pure, even chaste as she slipped her hand behind his head and held him there for a second, before pulling away.
But it was far more than a kiss, because in the back of her mind - even though she refused to admit it - she knew exactly what she'd done. Harry didn't know and perhaps never would. But if they made it back to France. . . .
Fleur noticed the look on Harry's face and surprised herself by giggling. He looked Obliviated.
"I zhink I should go downstairs and straighten out zhe problem with Molly. You're probably still tired. Why don't you go back to sleep for a little while."
Harry nodded, but was unable to string together a coherent sentence. Fleur watched to make sure he hadn't slipped under her Veela magic, but he didn't show any of the normal signs. His inability to speak was simply a result of being kissed by Fleur, not "Veela Fleur". She grinned at him and pulled the covers up, leaving the room both happy, and even more confused.
So much for waiting until we get to France. Damn, damn, damn.
Fleur returned a few minutes later to find him asleep. Lightly touching him, she pushed more magic out, hoping the apotropaic touch was enough to keep his demons away.
X ~ X ~ X ~ X
"Where's Harry?" Molly asked as Fleur descended the stairs.
"Still in bed. 'E needed more sleep after last night."
Molly spun around so fast the food she was preparing flew out of the bowl she was holding.
"Non! Non! Zhat's not what I meant! Stupeed English language!"
Fleur ignored the guffaws coming from the table and focused on the matronly witch in front of her. "I meant zhat 'e 'ad bad dreams and 'ad a 'ard time sleeping. I wanted to come down 'ere and speak with you alone since 'E doesn't need to see anyone upset at 'im."
Molly put the bowl down and picked up a towel, wiping her hands off. "You're right. That wasn't one of my better moments. I've been trying to not cry in front of him since he's lost so much already. But this morning. . . . I have to keep reminding myself that I am not his mother – It's difficult in the best of times. He's been through so much." The stern 'mother's lecture look' known the world over manifested. "But that doesn't change the fact that you are under my roof and while you're here, there are certain rules I expect you to live by."
Fleur opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by Molly, only to be cut off herself by Remus. "I think you should let Fleur explain before you say anything else. It'll save both of you a lot of embarrassment."
Molly turned back to Fleur. "Okay, then please explain how you ended up in bed with an underage wizard."
A little while later, Fleur concluded. ". . . And zhat's all zhat 'appened, I promise. Can you blame me for not wanting 'Arry to sleep in zhat room alone, or for taking away 'is bad dreams?"
"I guess not," Molly conceded. "That's what I get for jumping to conclusions."
"Jumping to conclusions? You thought we. . . is zhat what you zhink of me? Or 'Arry?"
"Of course not. It's just that I have a fairly good idea how a witch can affect a wizard's – desires, shall we say? Add to that the fact that you're a few years older and unnaturally beautiful. . . " she let the sentence drop.
"Do you zhink I 'ave 'Arry under Veela control like zome kind of puppet on zhe ztring?" Fleur's anger manifested in a deeper accent. "Is zhat what you zhink of me? Zhat I'm a Veela pute – 'ow do you zay een English –a Veela whore, maybe zelling my body for 'Arry's protection zhe last few days?"
Molly stepped back and raised her hands. "No, no. I don't think you're purposefully doing anything to him."
"PURPOSEFULLY?" Fleur shrieked. "Zo you zhink I can't control my magic and am luring 'Arry accidentally?"
"Oh, dear, I'm making a mess out of this." Molly sighed. "Oh hex it all, I might as well be stunner-curse blunt about it seeing as how this conversation has gone all pear-shaped anyway."
She took a deep breath before beginning. "Harry's fourteen years old. Most boys that age are a walking set of hormones and would shag a dragon if given the chance, let alone a beautiful witch with a foreign accent. Throw in what most teenage boys believe about Veela sexuality and I'm sure he's been dreaming about riding you like a dragon the last two nights, even more-so if I understand how you affected his dreams.
"Now, add on top of that everything the two of you have endured together the last two days, the emotional turmoil, the loss both of you must be going through, and the inevitable closeness between the two of you due to what you've experienced together, and you have the exact type of situation that sends a wizard's dragon looking for a witch's treasure cave."
Molly glanced over at the two grown wizards sitting slack-jawed at the table. "Oh please, I raised six boys."
Half an hour later, breakfast was served and Fleur had finally recovered, though she still blushed every few minutes.
Sirius, showing a rare use of restraint, wisely left it alone. Instead, he was focused on Remus's recounting of what he learned upstairs about the Horcruxes.
"Five more?" Sirius clarified. How can any man break his soul into eight different parts?"
Fleur shook her head. "Non, zhat would be seven parts. Zhe diary, zhe five others 'e told us about zhis morning, and zhe part Voldemort still 'as."
"No, I meant eight," Sirius confirmed, refusing to look at Fleur. "I think collecting them should be the first task of the Order. If we can destroy them, then the next time Voldemort is killed, he'll be gone for good."
"Eight?" Fleur breathed.
"You mean the next time Harry kills him, according to the prophecy," Remus corrected.
"What prophecy?" Molly's voice boomed.
"'Ow can zhere be eight unless" – Fleur, still caught up counting Horcruxes, thought back to the abbreviated conversation with Sirius and Remus the previous night and gasped - "'Arry is a 'Orcrux, isn't 'e?" She demanded to know.
"HARRY'S A HORCRUX? WHAT IS THIS PROPHECY? - SOMEONE HAD BETTER START TALKING REAL FAST!" Molly screeched.
Sirius's fork clanked against his plate where he dropped it and leaned back in his chair. "I think it's time for the four of us to have a little talk about Harry."
Two decisions came out of the discussion. The first was that Sirius was going to Gringotts to pick up his family Pensieve. It had been stored in the Black vault as an heirloom since he was a child. With it, Harry could put his thoughts (and dreams as he thought about them) in it and they could try to identify where the other Horcruxes were.
The second decision concerned Harry directly. Sirius, Remus, and Molly were going to sit down and talk to him about the prophecy, the Horcruxes, and what he was doing with three books on the Dark Arts.
Speaking of whom, Sirius thought to himself, It's time to wake him up.
Half a minute later, he was upstairs. "Hey, Harry, dragon-dream time is over."
Sirius laughed at his own joke as Harry pulled the pillow over his head.
"You're father didn't like getting up either. But Lily found an ingenious way to get him out of bed. What do you know about the Augamenti charm?"
"You wouldn't," Harry mumbled under his pillow.
"Ohh! That sounds like a challenge." He was amused by the speed which Harry moved to get out of bed.
Sirius sat down on the other bed as Harry dressed. "How did you heal so fast?" he asked as Harry looked for a shirt. Of course, Sirius had seen exactly how Fleur had healed him, but he hadn't had this much fun with someone since James.
"What are you talking about?"
Sirius opened the curtains to shed more light in the room. "Yesterday, you were covered in broken blood vessels and curse marks. Today, they're gone."
"Oh," was Harry's only response.
"Oh? What does 'Oh' mean?"
"It means, 'oh'," Harry answered, thinking quickly how to change the topic, but he wasn't quick enough.
"Hmm. Let's see now. I know you couldn't reach some of those marks on your back. Remus or Molly didn't heal you and I know I didn't." He crossed his arms and waited for Harry to confirm what he already knew.
"It was Dobby."
"Harry, has anyone told you that you're a horrible liar?"
"What do you mean?"
"Nice try. Fleur came downstairs and gave us an account of last night and she didn't mention Dobby at all. By the way, Veela myths mention their ability to heal others almost as much as their other charms. Now, if you had just told me it was Fleur, it wouldn't have been a big deal. But since you lied about it, it makes me a little curious as to her, um, method, shall we say?"
Harry rolled his eyes.
"Come on, Harry."
"Did my father ever tell you that you were a pain in the arse?"
Sirius smiled widely. "All the time. Makes me glad Azkaban hasn't changed me. Oh, and I happened to look in earlier. Healers don't usually put their hands all over you when they're performing their spells, nor do they do it in their knickers. I hope you enjoyed yourself."
Harry picked up his pillow and threw it across the room at Sirius, who caught it and threw it back at Harry even harder, knocking him back onto the bed.
Harry dropped his shirt and dove at his godfather, tackling him to the floor. Their laughter echoed through the top three levels of the Burrow as they wrestled. After the fourth time Sirius tied Harry up like a pretzel, he called an end to it and sat down on the bed.
"I have to go. I'm making a quick trip to Gringots.
"Why?"
"My father kept a Pensieve in the vault. It's supposed to be a Black family heirloom."
"What's the sense of having something like that if you don't have it somewhere that you can use it?"
Looking down his nose at Harry in a mockery of his parents snobbery, Sirius answered. "We are mere scum compared to the lofty and non-disowned Black family. How can we plunder the depths of their insanity – I mean intellect?"
Harry laughed with Sirius, but it was cut short by Harry announcing that he was going with him.
"No, Harry. It's too dangerous. You're a prime target."
But Harry was ready for that answer. "Exactly, so either I go with you to get money out of my vault now, or we get separated somehow and I end up going by myself or with Fleur. Do you think it's safe walking with a part Veela down the middle of Diagon Alley?"
"You're right. I'll take money out of my vault and you can use that."
Harry shook his head emphatically. "No way. I'm not taking your money, especially after you spent half of it on my Firebolt."
"Harry, the empty space from the gold used to buy the Firebolt didn't even register in the Black family vault. I have no one else to spend that money on besides myself."
"So spend it on Remus. Maybe he could buy something with it. I'm not taking your money."
"Stop being so stubborn James and take the money. You can pay me back when you get a chance."
"James?" Harry asked, a little surprised at the slip up.
Sirius shrugged. "We had plenty of these same arguments."
"Good. Then you're used to losing them. When are we leaving?"
Sirius muttered something about cursing Harry all the way back to Hogwarts before he answered. "I'll make you a deal. You get Molly to agree to let you go, and I won't say another word."
Harry started to protest, but stopped. "Okay."
After he finished his morning routine, Harry went downstairs with Sirius right behind him.
"Mrs. Weasley, I'm going to Muggle London today."
"What?"
"I need to go to Muggle London. I can take the underground and buses."
"There's no way you'll be safe in Muggle London. I don't think that's a wise choice."
"It's safer than Diagon Alley, isn't it?"
"Not really. At least in Diagon Alley, you could side-along Apparate with someone if something went wrong."
"But I really want to go to Muggle London!"
"As much as I act otherwise at times, I know I'm not your mother Harry, I can't tell you no. But I don't think it's a good idea and I would hope you'd be careful enough to listen to me."
"Okay. What if I just went to Diagon Alley with Sirius and picked up a couple things then?"
"I didn't think he was going to do any shopping. What if you're seen by a Death Eater?"
"Then Sirius can side-Apparate me home, just like you said."
She sighed. "Well, it's safer than Muggle London I guess."
Harry beamed at her, smirked at Sirius, and left the kitchen.
"You raised six boys and still fell for that?" Sirius asked after Harry went into the sitting room.
"No. I don't like it, but I know Harry well enough to know that he's going to find some way to get whatever he thinks he needs. He's as headstrong as any of my boys or Ginny. I swear he's another one of my kids. They were all the same. At least this way, he'll be with you."
Sirius gave her a knowing nod. "We might as well have our conversation with him before we go then. It'll give him and me time to discuss things later if he wants."
"I think that's a good idea." A maternal worry creased her face. "Please make sure he's safe, Sirius."
"I'll do my best. I think I'm going to take Remus with me too, just to make sure."
X
Fleur was sitting in Ginny's room while the other spoke with Harry. Once it was finished, Harry came upstairs to say goodbye to Fleur.
"Do you need anything?" He asked.
"Non, Dobby brought everything of mine 'ere last night. I 'ave everything I need. Zhank you though."
"There's a great chocolate shop there that was supposed to have opened over Christmas. I could get something for you."
"I know zhat shop. Zhey 'ave one in France and I was zhere last summer when zhey were talking about opening zhe shop 'ere. Zhe chocolate is great, but very expensive 'Arry. You don't need to buy me anything."
But she read the look he gave her, like he was holding back a coy smile, and knew he would buy her something anyway. It was, sweet. There really wasn't another word for it. Fleur almost gave in and told him her favorite type of chocolate, but stopped herself, both interested in what he thought she'd like, and also determined not to be the type of Veela that made wizards shower them with money and gifts.
As soon as Harry left, Fleur went to the window and sat on the bench, watching the three wizards walk out to the Apparation point. Why was the decision to jump into Harry's bed so easy and why did she kiss him? What did it mean, or did it mean anything?
She was so completely confused. Even her decision to wait until she got to France, a smart decision she thought, was too little too late. Maybe it was all because she was so tired. Pushing her magic out to affect Harry as they both slept the last two nights was wearing down her magic. She was a lot more tired than she let on.
But that wasn't the answer either. Something else was happening. She couldn't put words to it, but it felt like she was almost going through a second transformation. The first one, when her Veela nature took over at the age of thirteen was bad enough, but this transformation felt more painful and it wasn't even biological or magical. She was changing on the inside, but what was she becoming? She already became a Veela, or as much of a Veela as she would ever be. What else was there?
Moving back to the bed frustrated, she tried to clear her mind and fall asleep, but every time she closed her eyes, thoughts and memories replayed themselves; the memory of her lying in Harry's arms became more and more prominent. Why did Harry have to invade her thoughts like this? What was wrong with her and why did she keep flirting with him and why was she fighting the urge to run back to the window and yell out for them to wait for her so Harry wouldn't leave her sight?
Sitting back up in bed, Fleur noticed Ginny's letters again. Maybe Ginny knows, she thought to herself in a moment of levity. At least she understood the strange draw the young man had on a witch. It helped to hear the other girl's thoughts about Harry and maybe, just maybe, it'd help her organize her own.
~ . ~ . ~
19 June, 1993
Dear Harry Potter,
How do I say I'm sorry? You suffered all year with people blaming you for opening the Chamber of Secrets, when it was Tom Riddle possessing me through the diary. Why did I have to hurt you like that? Why couldn't I have just stopped it? Why did Malfoy have to put that diary in with my books last summer?
And then after all that, you still saved my life. You battled Voldemort. The second time in two years, from what I overheard my brother say. You faced and killed that monstrous basilisk for me and almost died if Dumbledore's Phoenix hadn't put its tear where you got bit.
I'm so sorry. I never wanted you to get hurt again, especially over me. Please forgive me.
~ . ~ .~
Basilisk? He fought and was bit by a Basilisk? Fleur shook her head at the incredulous story. She'd heard parts over the last year, including two nights ago from Cedric in the maze, but not like this. This letter was different than the last letters as well. Ginny hurt, because she hurt him. She was terrified, because she added to the pain he already had, and after all of that, he still saved her life, just like he did for Gabrielle.
Thinking back to her promise last night, Fleur cringed. Ginny had made that same promise in the previous letters, then broke them. Fleur flipped a few more pages again, and found an entry from last summer.
~ . ~ . ~
31 August, 1995
Harry,
I'm so glad you're okay. When I saw the Death Mark above the forest the other night and knew you were in there, I clutched my wand and took off running. The twins chased me down and jumped on me before I could get to you, but I promise that if you are ever in trouble like that I will come to help you. I know I'm only thirteen and you're fourteen. I know I'm just Ron's little sister to you. I know that you will probably never see me the way I see you.
But I will always love you Harry. Not the stick-my-elbow-in-the-butter-because-I-saw-you type of love, but the type that you showed me; the type that says I would rather die than let something happen to you.
"Oh, god!"
Try as she might, Fleur could not erase the image of the little red-headed girl lying next to her older brothers, dead, her wand scorched from battle. But that little girl—the phrase brought a lump to her throat; how many 'little' boys and girls have suffered on this god-forsaken island—died because she believed in Harry. Not in Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived that she first learned about, but in Harry, the young wizard she had grown to know and love. That was why she fought the Death Eaters two nights ago, why she didn't go with her maman when Molly was helping the children escape.
She died for Harry, just as Harry was willing to die for Ginny, for the four Champions in the graveyard, for Fleur back at the school; just as Cedric was willing to come up closest to Harry and die for him, just as Krum had died for them.
Tears burst forth again as she thought about all the death, and moreover the suffering that boy Neville she heard about and Susan and others had to endure. She thought back to Seamus and what she saw in the picture, but above all, her thoughts revolved around Harry. She marveled at his spirit. The human spirit within him, and all of them, that thing that goes so far beyond the mere triviality of Wizard or Muggle, regardless of what the pure-blooded bigots said.
It struck her at that moment that she wasn't just a Veela. She was also human and had the same spirit. The revelation made her cry all the more as she realized that the biggest difference between them and her, was that her human spirit didn't measure up to theirs.
It was quite a while before Fleur was able to read again, but she finally started, reading through the tears that continued to fall.
I saw you last night, I couldn't sleep. I was in the hallway when I heard something and went up to see what it was. It was you. You were holding your scar. I know it's hurting and you don't want anyone else to know, so I won't say anything. But if it means anything about You-Know-Who, I will stand by your side with my wand in hand, because I believe in you that much Harry, even if you don't believe in yourself, and I am starting to get the idea that you don't. How can you not see in yourself, what Ron and Hermione and I see in you?
You're selfless, brave, shy, protective, caring, a great Quidditch player (maybe that should have been first). We talk about you Harry. We talk about all the good things in you. About how loyal you are, about how you never abandon your friends, about how you never try to bring attention to yourself, yet somehow it always shows up.
Please believe me Harry. There is so much in you. So much so, that if your scar means what I think it means, I am willing to die for you. I know this sounds corny. But it's the truth. I just hope I get to show it someday.
~ . ~ . ~
The image of Ginny at Hogwarts forced its way to the forefront of Fleur's thoughts again. But this time, her dead body was animated, standing amongst the carnage, looking at Fleur just like her maman did yesterday, weighing and measuring the French girl.
"I don't care about you being a Veela, are you a good enough human for my Harry?" The young redhead asked in Fleur's thoughts. "Are you willing to die for him? Do you love him enough to save him?"
Fleur shook with sobs, dropping the makeshift diary and curling into the pillow. It was too much, too fast. Everything she prided herself on in the past no longer mattered and everything that she ignored about herself was now important. This wasn't all about Harry, he was the mirror that reflected the truth back onto her, and the truth remained; Fleur was a beautiful Veela, but she was an ugly human being. It's no wonder she was bested by a fourteen year old wizard, why he was able to be the hero at the lake. He was a better human being.
A knock on the door surprised her.
"Fleur?"
She desperately tried to clear her throat so her voice would sound strong. "Oui?"
The door opened and Molly came in to see her on the bed in tears. Silently, Molly walked across the room, sat on the bed and pulled her into a hug, rocking her slightly and rubbing her back.
After fifteen or so minutes, Fleur excused herself and went to the bathroom. When she returned, Molly broke the silence.
"We've had our discussion with Harry."
"What deed 'e zay?"
"That he felt like it fell to him, and he was going to do what he could to put an end to the war as soon as possible. He has the books to learn about the Horcruxes, though there are other things about his connection and powers that he needs to learn to control, and maybe use."
"But 'e can't. I can't let 'eem do zhat!" Fleur set her jaw in defiance.
"I know. It scares me too. I don't like Harry touching anything dealing with the Dark Arts because I'm afraid what will happen to him. But Remus made too much sense. Harry's path has been set since his birth, and the only thing we can do, is love him enough that he won't be engulfed by the journey. His destiny and magic has been so intertwined with You-Know Who that he may have no other choice but to use some of the Dark Arts against him. One thing you need to know about Harry. If there's anyone who can do it, it's him."
"But at zhe cost of 'is soul? I won't allow zhat to 'appen." She lifted the makeshift book of letters from the bed. "Jhinnee would not allow zhat to 'appen!"
"What is that?" Molly whispered.
"I found it in zhe pillow case. When I pulled it out, I noticed zhe letter on zhe first page, I didn't want to read it at first, but zhere was just something about it." Fleur paused for a moment. "I wish I 'ad known 'er."
Molly hitched a tight smile. "I'm not sure about that Fleur, her nickname for anyone who spoke French was 'Phlegm,' because of the way your language sounds. She had quite the mouth, but she was a very special witch."
Fleur ran her hand across the book. "I zhink I found zhat out."
Molly put her hand on top of Fleur's and Fleur looked up at her.
"I'm worried," Molly began. "When he confronted Madame Bones in the kitchen yesterday, I've never seen him so cold."
"When 'e watched Dumbledore die, I saw 'is spirit break. I 'ave never seen zhat before and I never want to see zhat again in anyone. I never knew it could 'appen. Why 'im? Why does it always 'appen to 'im?"
"I don't know," Molly answered honestly.
"'E's been through so much. I thought 'e was just a leetle boy at zhe beginning of the year. Now, I know zhat 'e's so much more. 'E saved my sister. 'E saved Ginny. 'E's a 'ero. E's—"
"Lucky to have you with him," Molly supplied, surprising Fleur. "I'm sorry for this morning. I'm sorry for calling you 'Frenchie', I'm sorry for yelling at you and assuming things about you. But even more so, I'm sorry for saying that you're taking Harry away from me."
Fleur had to replay the words in her head a few times to grasp the meaning, but it was there. Molly was treating her like an equal. She truly didn't hold a grudge, even though she had every right to. Fleur began to see the beauty in Molly and it quickly extended to Ginny (or at least her mental picture of Ginny), Remus, Sirius, Cedric, even Krum. It wasn't just Harry that gave until it hurt. It was all of them and they all had one thing in common. The human spirit. In that moment, so much became clear.
"I'm zorry, Molly. I was rude to you. I was rude to your zon during the zchool year. I 'urt 'Arry zhe night we were chosen. I 'urt your Ronald by my arrogance, when 'e was zeemply attracted to zhe veela, not even to me. But zhey both zaved my zeester's life. Later we found out she wasn't een danger. But zhey ztill deed it. Please forgeeve me!"
The two witches hugged and cried, mourning the losses of friends and loved ones and those they never knew. They cried into the early in the afternoon when Fleur excused herself to the bathroom again for more tissues.
She came back into the room and sat down on the bed. "Zhank you, Molly."
"Fleur, you're still holding back. There's still something eating at you. What is it?"
Fleur shook her head slightly and gave Molly a little smile, amazed at the witch's intuition. She decided to be honest.
"Everything. All the zhings I thought were important, no longer are. Everything I thought I was, seem to no longer matter. I don't know where to start."
"Then start with Harry," Molly ventured.
Fleur's eyelids snapped open. "What do you mean by zhat?"
"I'm a. . .was a mother of six boys and a witch who was in love with Harry. I think that makes me an expert in teenagers, and a specialist for this particular discussion."
"You zhink I am in love with 'Arry?"
"Are you?"
"Non," she answered reflexively, realizing that she sounded exactly like Harry did earlier in the day. But her instincts kicked off again, the same instincts that told her yesterday morning that it wasn't true when she watched Remus and Sirius hugging Harry and thought that he was finally with someone who loved him. Obviously it was true that they loved him, so, could it be that Harry had already been in the presence of someone who loved. . . ."
Fleur's eyes were growing wider by the minute.
"Answer the question too fast?" Molly grinned.
Fleur shook her head, still not wanting to admit it. France. Have to get home and talk to maman. She'll love Harry. He could stay in - Stop this!
Molly laughed out loud at the play of emotions on Fleur's face.
"It's okay Fleur, we don't need to talk about that if you're not ready." Molly hugged her again and left the room to make a late lunch for the two of them, but not before telling the younger witch that they could talk about the other stuff over the meal.
Fleur turned back to the mirror and assessed what she saw before heading downstairs. At least she wasn't ashamed now. Whatever the next day brought, she'd be a different witch. Now she knew; it wasn't enough to be a beautiful Veela, she needed to be a beautiful human being as well. But something told her that was going to be much harder to do. It didn't matter though, she knew she could do it, she just needed the time to learn how.