Chapter 19 – Lion, Witch, and Wardrobe?
Standard disclaimer – don't own any of JK Rowling's works, nor am I profiting from them.
A/N: Apologies are in order, it has taken me so very long to extract this chapter from my own consciousness, due to writer's block. It will be edited for flow and perhaps content at a later time, but I really wanted to just get something out to you all to let you know I didn't forget about the story. It isn't my best work, but I am glad it is over with. His meeting with Ginny appears to be just as excruciating for me, but I hope that is the last hurdle. Big thanks to KingRider, lagenius, and my other faithful readers for your continued patronage!
"But the French Ministry?" Kenji knew that trusting another Ministry was ludicrous and had no idea how they would leverage their allies there to keep it quiet from their British counterparts. But it was the only real option available. Because surely the other option was even more absurd. Harry's withering glare could not conceal his contempt for that government option.
"No, the French are not in play right now, their price for assistance is … much too high. The other choice is much more dangerous, but the information would be first hand and irrefutable."
"Kohai, this is a dangerous game you are playing, with both of our lives. You know what the price of being caught would be." It wasn't a threat, merely a reiteration of fact. Kenji's life was much less at stake than Harry's; he just wanted Harry to acknowledge he was putting two House lineages at stake and that if they were dead, all the information they gained would be useless.
"Then we must not fail." Harry's steely tone announced that the discussion was closed for now and that his decision was made. It is my choice to make.
Kenji merely nodded; he understood the reasoning, but enrolling his father would be another matter. He expected Harry to side with the French and begin to rebuild the Arcane's political standing, starting in Europe, where the Veela already had a foothold.
"You will need some new robes and clothes, sempai, Scotland gets brutally cold in the winter time."
Hideki waited impatiently at the back door to the temple complex, one eye on the path to the reflecting pool, the other glancing back towards the staircase. He couldn't indulge his curiosity about his son and Harry without knowing of Lavender's condition. He knew that she wouldn't come down until she was ready, but he wouldn't risk having her alone in the temple. The walls held too many secrets here, and conscientiously he worried about her state if waking up to an empty home.
He grimaced as he sipped his stale green tea; the cold acrid taste mirroring the resignation he felt. Sending Harry to France would be the first step in collecting the political might to restore his standing and return the Legion to its previous glory, but it would take time; time that Harry wouldn't care for. His young charge probably didn't realize that both the Malfoy and Greengrass families were also involved in French politics; convincing them would be difficult but essential. Needing the Malfoy family for anything would be … distasteful to Harry.
He snorted into his cold tea at that thought. Distasteful was one way to put it, though that would be a gross understatement. He hoped his son could help convince Harry, they couldn't stay here and learn all they needed and his own usefulness for the Potter scion was ebbing; his son Kenji just needed to give Harry a nudge in the right direction. The other option of going to Wales, birthplace of the Potters, was inviting disaster. Too close to London, too close to the Ministry, and their large contingent of Aurors. Of questionable loyalty, all of them.
Of course, the French government could decide to hand Harry over as well; under the guise of returning a war hero to his adoring public, but at least that was one degree of separation and he trusted his contacts within that government, definitely more than the one that sent their own Hit Wizards to neutralize Harry.
His musings were interrupted as a hushed discussion grew louder as the two approached. Hideki was surprised to see the focused looks on their faces; as if they were already planning the trip to Paris, bringing a proud smile to his face. I knew Kenji could convince him. He must have done an amazing job because Harry didn't seem the least bit perturbed as they nodded to Hideki as they passed through the open door on their way to the dining area.
Harry and Kenji sat down at the table, their green tea steaming merrily at their seats. Harry set a critical gaze to his Healer, it was obvious where he wanted them to go, but he needed to know if he was cooperating with the Veela or not. They both needed the Arcane to return to prominence, so it wasn't inconceivable that they knew of each and worked towards similar goals. Ron would've gone spare to hear a Gryffindor thinking so much like a Snake, but this was the hand he had to play. The thought of his best mate spluttering about evil Slytherins brought a genuine smile to his face.
"So have you come to your decision yet?" Hideki's unusual impatience showed through his question, and Harry especially noted the lack of curiosity … as if his decision was a foregone conclusion. Harry's eyes darted towards Kenji, whose face betrayed nothing, then locked eyes with Hideki and hoped that his startling news would shake him enough to reveal any of his ulterior motives, if only in the quirk of an eye or a misstep in speaking.
"Yes, I have. But not to France." Harry snapped at him. "The Veela are too dangerous, a particularly dangerous unknown, in a sea of other unknowns. They want something more than just my cooperation in bringing new legislation to the forefront; they want me married to a mere girl. A Veela girl. You know their history as well as I do … and what a marriage like that would attempt. There is also the otherhistory you both share, as arcane beings, in exile." The history we all share. That Harry's harsh tone mirrored Hideki's own bitterness was not lost on his Healer.
"The sacrifices they have made could also be beneficial to you Harry, the Veela have used it to penetrate much of the French Ministry and Muggle government. I know your feelings for Ginevra, but this is about survival … about politics. If you must … you could have them both, if necessary." Hideki's words stoked a real outrage in Harry. Gabrielle or any other Veela wasn't some piece of property or an asset to be bartered about. That quantification was something Riddle would say.
Before Hideki continued his persuasive argument, Harry cut him off. "And not Wales, either. We are going to Scotland." He looked directly at his healer and watched Hideki's eyes flick to his son, that same unreadable expression colliding violently between the two men.
"Scotland? You can't be serious. What reason could you possibly have to go to …" Hideki's eyes widened as he finally registered the full impact of Harry's declaration. "This is madness, Harry; it puts you directly in the sights of the Ministry, regardless of how much you want to see Ginevra ... you have to see reason." His healer's eyes were wild in disbelief matching his incredulously waving arms, oblivious to Harry's mounting anger.
Harry's eyes narrowed dangerously at the healer's words. "Don't take me to be a lovestruck fool, Hideki. You demanded I be more ambitious, more cunning. If and when my plan succeeds, I won't be able to see her any more than Kenji would. I know the risks; I lived and suffered there like everyone else." Harry had risen from his seat and leaned over the table towards the older man, hands gripping the table, anger darkening his green eyes mainly from his healer's lack of faith in his planning and his ready dismissal of Ginny's importance to him.
"We need information about the Peverells, about what happened to the Arcane on the Isles, who our enemies would be. Hogwarts' library is the most extensive and one of the oldest …"
"All this, for a library?" Hideki's interruption, full of disbelief and disappointment in Harry's plans, searched for weaknesses in his argument to redirect the conversation before it was too late and the die was cast.
Harry's nostrils flared in frustration, "The ambient magic there could hide the entire Legion and then some, and it is a school. Kenji would get the training he needed, I would get the advanced training I needed, and the professors know and trust me. The Ministry's influence there could never rival the Headmistress' control of the school, it responds to her." Harry continued, ignoring the interruption.
Kenji nodded graciously, knowing enough about Hogwarts to understand the value of their education, after all, its value showed in his kohai when confronting both the Dark Lord and performing splendidly in the Diagon Alley attack. But most importantly, that same education helped save his father's life in America.
"I have other reasons that are my own, but one other valuable asset is each House has a patron ghost. Rowena, one of Hogwarts' founders, her daughter Helena, is one of those ghosts … her lover, the Bloody Baron, is Slytherin's ghost … and both lived during the extinction of the Arcane and the construction of the school. Whatever knowledge they have is firsthand, and they were both powerful wizards in their own right and traveled in the highest circles." He finished his argument with a small smile. This was part of his ace in the hole, his intimate knowledge of the school, which had been his unofficial home for his six years there.
But even Harry knew all of his reasons wouldn't matter if he couldn't convince the new Headmistress that he and Kenji were both safe for the students and staff, and that they wouldn't bring Ministry injunctions or interference to the school again. He looked directly at Hideki Saito, staring him down from across the table, demanding his acceptance. My life, my choice. Harry knew he was right and would no longer allow people to control his choices under the guise of doing what was best for him.
At Hideki's slight nod moments later, Harry bowed to show at least some deference to excuse his aggression and brazenness, but even as he did his mind was already traveling towards the inevitable meeting and negotiation with the current Headmistress, his former Head of House, Minerva McGonagall.
Harry was collecting his thoughts as he walked up the stairs to the room where Lavender was still supposedly resting, only to find her waiting at the top of the landing with a fearful expression on her face, arms wrapped protectively around her chest. "You are really going back to Hogwarts?"
That plaintive question ripped him from his own mind, and had him cursing his thoughtlessness as he regarded the emotionally battered woman before him, seemingly holding herself together against her memories with just her two thin arms.
He had just pulled her out of her only home, bereft as it was, the only one she had known for months, and was just going to leave her with brand new strangers, even though he knew they would have her best interests in mind, at least during her initial healing periods. He wouldn't dare ask her to come even if McGonagall agreed to his and Kenji's idea, the school was her own personal hell of nightmares and if this afternoon was any indication, she wasn't ready to face those demons head on, if ever.
For the very first time, Harry felt the weight of his Lordship heavy upon his shoulders. He couldn't just seek his own revenge, or only think of himself, unless he wanted to be a self-centered ponce like Lucius or Draco, and leave his charges to flounder in his wake. Now he had a family; members of his House who relied on his leadership … and Lavender relied on him for so much including her recovery. He cursed inwardly at his inexperience and turned to directly face his fellow Gryffindor. He pulled her hands into his own, leaving her no doubt as to his sincerity as he matched her eyes with his own jade ones.
"Lavender … something is changing within me, a feeling I am sure you can relate to. But I need to learn as much about it as possible, without complete control of it I am a danger to everyone and everything. And it's becoming stronger as I grow into my heritage. Going to Hogwarts seems like the right thing to do, the library, the ghosts, everything there, even the castle itself, feels like it could tell me more about the Potter and Peverell bloodline." Harry hated pretending that he had, for a moment, considered her feelings prior, when it was obvious he was only focused on himself, but Lavender understood the need to survival such a radical change in circumstances, perhaps better than anyone else other than Kenji.
"Like the way you apparate? Or that silvery ichor? Are those part of it, too?" She seemed genuinely curious. Lavender understood his desperate need to make sense of what he was. That answer would go a long way in leading him to knowing who he was or would be.
Harry nodded absently, "I'm sorry … I didn't consider how you would feel about it … if you want to just return to Grimmauld Place with Kreacher I understand. Or you can stay here with Hideki to continue your healing. I could even try and convince him to return to Grimmauld Place to have both. Kreacher … he is … quite fond of you."
Lavender shook her head and clucked sympathetically at Harry's guilt-fed ramblings; he couldn't be selfish for long if he tried. "Perhaps time with Kreacher and your healer at this Grimmauld Place, he has finally made those steaks rare enough, I'd hate to have taught him for nothing." They shared a smile at the rejuvenated elf of the Blacks; he really would love to have someone to serve daily. "And Kenji?"
"Sorry, Lavender, but I don't think you are ready for his training, yet. But he won't be coming with me to see Professor McGonagall, so perhaps you can talk and come to an understanding. He still feels he owes you an apology. But he needs the control Hogwarts can give him as much as I do. Merlin help whomever is the head of his House." His wry smile was matched by her when they thought of their old acerbic Head of House clashing with their abrasive sempai. "It will only be a day or two, I promise, but first I have to go to Gringotts to meet our new account manager. Lavender winced at Harry's darkening face. Fleur would be wise to bring her wand to the meeting.
Arthur was reviewing some papers involving the new protections placed within and around Hogwarts; it was sheaf after sheaf of parchment detailing the new patrol patterns and Aurors assigned to guarding entrances. It was agonizing for him because he hated putting the Ministry, even a properly vetted one in any shape or form, back into the school, but dangerous times were still abound and his only daughter and son's girlfriend would be there and prime targets for Death Eaters. Ginny had already had more than her fair share of abuse at Hogwarts and he would use all of his new powers as Undersecretary to ensure it didn't happen again this year.
They had already passed, through the Wizengamot, the use of human revealing spells and now were wrestling with implementing additional night patrols around the grounds. They were similar protocols to two years ago, with Aurors at the gates conducting searches before entering the school, but had been expanded include the use of non-invasive detection spells in the corridors as well. They had already had to compromise when they installed two Ministry officials as professors, an Unspeakable, who seemed eager for the transfiguration job to replace McGonagall, and an Auror, John Proudfoot, who was already familiar with the school having been assigned there with Nymphadora those two years ago, to be the substitute Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He hoped that they would only needed for a short time before actual professors could be found and hired, the Ministry's influence shouldn't extend into Hogwarts any more than was necessary to keep the students safe.
Nymphadora … Arthur forced down the lump of nausea creeping up his throat, she was a good friend to both Hermione and Ginny, keeping them company at Number 12, while no doubt keeping them involved with shallow Order secrets. And he, himself, had developed a real friendship with Remus, which originally had revolved around Harry, but found that both their quiet, unassuming strength and the circumstances that created it were too similar to not be great friends. It was cruel that Nymphadora and Remus had just enough time together to fall in love and have a child, but not enough to raise that child with the love they had for each other.
He was drawn from his melancholy by the creaking of the stairs, Molly's spellwork to discourage late night soirees in her house. All of their children and Hermione, as well, knew of that charmed step, which left very few culprits. He knew his children were still recovering from a hard night out at the Leaky Cauldron thanks to George and one of his investors, so he waited patiently and took another sip of his tea as he waited. He was not disappointed when he saw Angelina slinking towards the door. He cleared his throat softly and swallowed his chuckle as she nearly jumped out of her skin.
"I was just putting George to … bed; he's been … having a hard time at the shop." Angelina's face was burning, but she managed to calmly tell her excuse and even looked at Arthur who seemed extremely interested in his parchments, but he heard it in her voice, of exactly how much George was suffering.
"Thank you Angelina, it's nice to see someone really taking after him. I think what he needed was someone without red hair and freckles to give him a bit of a shoulder." They both nodded absently, anything looking too close to Fred was still a raw image for George. Not looking up from his parchments, Arthur nodded his teacup at her, "You are a fan of the Weird Sisters too … try not to get any of the scone on that shirt, it's George's favorite. He's had it since he started Hogwarts; looks good on you."
Her eyes went wide in embarrassment and a healthy dose of fear, but Arthur merely pushed a plate of blueberry scones over to the other side of the table and waited for her to sit.
Angelina quickly looked up at the stairwell, calculating to the millisecond, how long was appropriate to break bread with him before she could bolt out of the door, never to return. She would inhale the entire plate of scones, if need be, to escape Mount Molly's explosion at her being here. In George's favorite shirt. Slinking out of the Burrow, this early in the morning.
"Molly's having a bit of a lie in today. She needed the rest." Arthur's kindly voice did nothing to quell her growing nerves. Was he a Legilimens?
Angelina sincerely hoped it wasn't the same reason that George needed a lie in and as that thought hurtled across her mind; she couldn't completely hide the grimace that came forth. And then she froze remembering how perceptive Arthur had seemed. She squeezed her eyes shut and considered pinching herself, hoping it was a nightmare. The scones smelled real.
Arthur chuckled lightly in to his tea, putting it down and finally given her his full attention. "We aren't as young as you two", he paused for effect. "She's been planning Ginny's birthday and it's taken a lot out of her. Really, it's also going to be a send off for her, Ron and Hermione. So you can understand, late night planning and such."
She nodded slightly relieved and still trying to fight the flush off her face, knowing that Arthur was dancing around the subject and knowing that the kill shot was coming soon from him or, Morgana help her, Molly.
"Angelina?" She heard the seriousness in his tone and stopped fiddling with her food and tea and looked back into Arthur's sad eyes.
"Thank you, truly" and grabbed her hand tightly just for a moment and Angelina's breath caught in her chest at how grateful he was, for her volunteering and whatever else she did to bring George back to the Burrow.
As he looked studiously back to his papers, his voice had reclaimed a bit of the teasing nature, knowing for sure at least one thing she did to bring George back,"Angelina, next time if you want to avoid all of this, in the back of my Muggle shed on the outside wall; there is a small side door. It's unlocked, there is a Comet 220 in there … it was a favorite of Ron and Ginny." For what purpose Angelina really didn't want to know, but judging from the twinkle in his eye, it was a secret shortcut past Molly for all the Weasley children.
"I'm sure Hermione and Harry were gratef …." She wished she hadn't opened her mouth because as soon as Harry's name left her lips she saw Arthur's easy going manner evaporate and a forced smile replace it. She wanted so badly to tell him that Harry, his unofficial son, has fine but if he didn't know, then he wouldn't have to lie if he was asked. She patted his hand, "Thank you, you really are a good man, Mr. Weasley."
"It's Arthur … and I'll tell Molly you liked the scones." He winked conspiratorially as he loudly shuffled his papers and began reviewing the preparations for Hogwarts, especially the stipulations for the incoming and returning seventh years. Angelina understood she was free to go. She shared a knowing smile with the Weasley patriarch as she took another blueberry scone for later.
Harry woke the next morning trying to clear his mind from thoughts of Hogwarts or Ginny's birthday later on; today's meeting would require all of his guile to persuade Fleur. If he couldn't convince her to withhold or feed false account information to the Veela, then he would have to make her resign. He certainly hoped for the former because his return to the British Isles required anonymity of both his money and his person. Without that assurance, speaking to McGonagall about returning would be pointless. He had to succeed.
The goblins could care less about the affairs of wizards, Fleur was just a means to more Galleons, but her silence couldn't be purchased in kind. He had no doubt that they were friends, close friends even, but Gabrielle was her sister, and the Veela was her family. Perhaps the research of his French company could be a more enticing carrot for the French woman; it would be have to be ready much sooner than he anticipated but better than the alternative.
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and growled in frustration, everything had to fit just right for even the chance to return to Hogwarts, much less actually pulling off returning to the school, but that journey started in a half hour in Britain, and it wouldn't do to be late.
Harry pulled on his Shade Cloak, holstered his wand, and regarded his image in the mirror. He certainly looked the part of a Lord; his training had sharpened his body and bearing … he only hoped that he had the stomach for what lay ahead in London. He needed advice and while Hideki disagreed with his plans, he knew his Healer was eager to see him succeed.
Shifting directly into the lobby of the goblin bank, Harry quickly made his way to a teller to confirm Ginny's vault was ready now that she was officially an adult witch and stipulated again what was to be placed inside. He nodded his approval and left a Galleon on the counter for his trouble. As he retreated to the accounting office rooms he recalled what Hideki had told him earlier, before he came to London.
That in politics, the most obvious conclusion if reached too easily is often just a half truth to conceal an ulterior motive, and while Harry thought he knew the Veela's plan; he had to push Fleur a little to see if she was hiding something else, for herself or for her race. No doubt, the Veela would hope that Gabrielle could influence him to further their agenda, and Fleur was worried about her sister's treatment. What rankled Harry more was the goblin's interest. Yes, they craved gold and had fooled wizards into thinking it was for greed, but those same wizards, like the Malfoys, used that gold for political influence.
The possibility that goblins would do the same was considered beyond them as simple creatures, much less, that the magical power of the goblins lay tied to those stores of precious metals, even if they were unaware of it themselves.
The question was what did the goblins really want from me and how were they going to try and secure it? They seemed delighted that Fleur was his account manager, which made little sense; having that position as a goblin would mean a high social standing as well as keeping all of the money within the goblin bank …
As he sat down in the well appointed office ten minutes earlier than scheduled his mind feverishly tried to make any connections. Fleur and the goblins were lying to each other, she "needed" the money and promised a great return; they were greedy and wanted all the money. But the goblins had no leverage with her, she could quit at any time and all of this planning would be wasted. She didn't really need the money that badly, Bill, after all, was a very good curse breaker for Gringotts ...
Harry sucked in a sharp breath and ran his hands nervously through his hair. Curse breaking was a dangerous job which Bill was good but not indispensible at, and Gringotts handed out assignments, and liquidated the artifacts that provided the commissions. Fleur may not even know how precarious her and Bill's position was, but Harry was going to make her very aware of it in the coming minutes.
He couldn't just berate her for her ignorance; he needed to give her a way out, so that he could trust her to manage his accounts out of the purview of the goblins from then on. No matter what happened, he needed a way to keep his acquisitions away from the prying eyes of both the Veela and goblins until he was ready to make his own deals with them, and Fleur could be that way. If I can trust her.
He sat back in the chair and closed his eyes in frustration; he had to think like Hideki, thinking like himself was too much Gryffindor, this required more tact and skill than he possessed. However, Harry's planning always returned to this one point; that if he could forgive and help Petunia, then he owed Fleur, who was practically family, the same regardless of whether she would help or not.
He shook his head in disappointment, no matter what he did, he was still Harry, and no amount of training would change that.
Fleur arrived at Gringotts, dressed smartly in a revealing blouse and tight pencil skirt hidden underneath the official Gringotts robes; she knew her role and while it nauseated her, she needed the information for Gabrielle and to soothe her own guilt. But betraying Harry to do it ... She crushed that fresh bloom of guilt, after all it was just reporting his account transactions, for now at least.
She swallowed hard against the churning in her stomach that had started since she awoke, alone at Shell Cottage this morning; she would have to meet Harry and lie to his face. The goblins had told her he was furious when they told him earlier, and an angry Harry was usually to be avoided; the only people who could rein him in were Ginny and Mrs. Weasley. She could only rely on her allure to help calm him, but knowing his resistance to it … that plan could backfire spectacularly.
Fleur stepped into the antechamber flanked by two other goblin managers. While they conversed in Gobbledegook, she took in deep, steadying breaths. Betraying the savior of the Wizarding World was no small feat, and to use her Veela nature in this way made her feel cheap. She hoped that Harry, Bill, and Morgana help her, Ginny, could forgive her if they ever found out.
"Lord Potter will see you now", intoned a goblin guard and as she swept into the room followed by the other managers, unleashed her allure. She felt even the goblins' eyes follow her lithe figure into the room, but when she saw Harry's she froze. His furious green eyes pierced each manager in turn and when his smoldering eyes lay upon hers she knew.
She knew he wasn't here to meet, wasn't there to discuss business ventures. He was there to pass judgment upon her, and if she was to found to be lacking … then Fleur knew the Potter scion was more than capable of avenging the betrayal to his House. The Daily Prophet's coverage of the attack in the States, as well as in Diagon Alley, showed Harry had learned and now followed the ancient rules of Lordship, and for the first time since she saw her husband after Greyback's attack, she felt real fear.
Harry narrowed his eyes at Fleur and disregarded the goblins, their loyalty was not in question this time, and he knew where they stood, "Fleur Delacour. Congratulations on your new … appointment." His cold voice echoed eerily in the office and shook the goblins from their allure reverie.
The goblins looked surprised at Lord Potter and his initial lack of desire for his new manager, but they broke into sharp toothed smiles after he waved them out and asked to be left alone. An almost imperceptible nod to the guard as the two managers left the room was noticed by Harry, and he felt the privacy wards breached by their prying charms.
He waved Fleur into her chair and sat across from her. They both knew that this was no business meeting and Harry stared at her waiting to break. He saw a glimmer of fear in her eyes, but she wouldn't run and wasn't offering any excuses. Proud like a Gryffindor. Harry flashed a predatory smile and stood up circling the table, ending up directly behind Fleur.
"I guess I should be thankful for the goblins to accept you … you are still quite beautiful." He let a bit of lusting into his voice as he leaned into the Veela, stopping as his breath tickled the nape of her neck. Fleur stiffened at the proximity, Harry had never been this susceptible to the allure before. With his face shadowed by her platinum blonde hair, he began whispering a complex charm that Fleur didn't quite recognize. After his murmuring went silent, the raven haired wizard caught her eyes and flicked them to the corners of the room where Fleur noticed motes of silvery light twinkling faintly.
As Harry walked back to his chair, his eyes raked over her body, sizing her up. She shivered under his blazing look, one that she had felt from strangers before but never from Harry. When he saw the uncertainty play across her face, he knew it was time to act. He seized her hand and pulled her from her seat, and Fleur shivered to see the naked desire on his face. He pulled her down onto his lap as he collapsed back into his chair, "If I am paying for your services, whore, it's time you earned your money." And before she could respond, they were shifting through the Void.
She felt the bright sunlight piercing her eyes before she felt the warm sea breeze and salty air. She stumbled from the abrupt change in footing and was caught from collapsing into the wet sand by a strong grip. As Harry's words echoed in her mind, her face went crimson in anger and she snarled, "Let me …"
Fleur's demand went unheard as Harry unceremoniously cast her aside onto the sandy beach and began casting several wards that she had seen her husband use. Only after he was done, did he return to her and offer a hand.
She jerked the hand down, using it as leverage to slap Harry across the face. Her fingernails had elongated into talons and they bit into his fleshy cheek, causing fresh blood to run across his tanned skin. As she struck again, Harry met her hand with his own, inches from his bleeding face.
"I deserved one, for how I said it, but not what was said." His voice was devoid of lust and was once again cold and testing. Her offended Veela nature was not in the least appeased and she drew her wand from inside her robes and pointed it at him. Harry shrugged his shoulders and folded his arms across his chest.
"I wouldn't, my wards are better than Bill's, and I would hate for you to die in front of your own house."
The mention of her husband's name sent a new pique of anger coursing through her, but she couldn't help but look away from the ocean, and saw that they were indeed at Shell Cottage. She turned towards Harry and caught him smirking at her. She growled low in her throat and considered tossing her wand aside and clawing him to pieces.
"If you are this angry, then I am more of a Slytherin than I thought."
Fleur's wand flicked upwards and a few sparks sprayed from the tip, "Go on."
"I gave the goblins exactly what they needed to see, and I now have what I want."
Fleur narrowed her eyes at him, "And what is that?"
"A chance to offer you a deal away from your employers' eyes and ears; I meant what I said. If you are successful with me, the goblins will whore you out to all of their wealthy clients, and not all of them will be as … understanding as me." He drew his finger across his cheek, eyes narrowing slightly at the silvery tinge to his blood.
"I would never do such a thing to Bill", she snapped back.
"You might not have a choice, you told the goblins you wanted the money, and they risked their second largest account to you, if you back out now they'll know you were lying about the money and will look for other reasons you had to be appointed. After all you are just a Veela and this bartering is what you were made for." His arms were held up in a placating manner to stave off her anger. It was a perspective that both goblins and most wizards accepted as truth.
"Bill must have told you never to cross a goblin in matters of business, and if you quit, they can get to you through him. Curse breaking is extremely dangerous, and sometimes accidents happen … Also who else would he sell the artifacts to? Borgin and Burkes? Bill's entire career is built around working for Gringotts."
"We can both quit and go to France." Fleur was resolutely shaking her blonde mane, her concern over Bill trumped everything.
"So there are no goblins in France? No Gringotts there, either? You saw how angry they were over the sword of Gryffindor, and that was over a contract hundreds of years old. And Godric or his wife didn't work for them. And what about the Weasleys or your family? Do they not use wizarding currency?" She felt his sarcasm bite deep into her, he was right in one thing, the goblins were everywhere and they took their business very seriously.
She felt a warm hand on hers and she instinctively snatched it away, glaring at Harry who had closed the distance between them. He seemed genuinely hurt for a moment, and then reinforced his detachment again, determined to be unaffected by her aloofness and continued, "I have an offer, but it comes with a price." He waited for her to accept the initial premise and at her nod continued.
"Tell tell me the truth about why you are my account manager, and I make this problem go away."
She snorted derisively, "You presume too much, Harry. You may be wealthy and famous, but to the goblins you are just a pile of Galleons. You have killed wizards on two continents and have Hit Wizards and the Ministry looking for you. And you don't know the goblins like Bill does. We will manage on our own without your help." She threw a proud look at the Potter scion. Her patronizing riled Harry deeply and it took all his control not to show it.
"And Gabrielle?" Fleur's heart seized a moment at her sister's name and felt her anger at the veiled threat return with a vengeance. Her retort died in her throat as she saw the intensity in Harry's eyes. "She will need her own protection, but not from me."
"I can help protect all of you … and you're right, I have killed two wizards and murdered a Dark Lord because they threatened my family. Don't you dare presume that I am that same leetle boy you remember from the Tournament." Harry began canceling the wards around them and speared her with his calculating eyes, "When they try and whore you out to someone like the Malfoys, maybe then you will reconsider. What's more important, keeping your loved ones safe, or the simple truth?" He turned quickly and gave a lingering stare out towards Dobby's gravesite before disappearing.
Fleur waited until Harry shifted from the beach before her haughty façade crumbled and she held herself as she sank into the sand, sobbing. His words rang loudly in her ears; she knew the goblins could be ruthless in their pursuit of Galleons, but had no idea her appointment to the Potter vault could be just a trial run before they used her throughout the bank. She wished Bill were here to prove he was safe, that Harry's ominous words were only that … but she knew the truth when she heard it. Harry was right on both counts, her ignorance placed her family in danger, and Lord Potter was no mere child anymore.