Godrics Gift
A/N The Story Continues
A kind reviewer pointed out that I used the pronoun "Y'all" in the previous chapter. While I will always be a defender of the second person plural in English, the English certainly do not use this wildly useful pronoun. I've edited this, but leave this note as my appeal to English speakers everywhere to embrace the great pronoun Y'all.
A Tapestry and a Tour
Fleur Delacour was a vision of beauty. Her platinum blonde hair billowed out of a stylish fur hat despite being pulled into a tight bun. Her chin was held high, and her features were stoic, not making eye contact with any of the students around her or in the crowd, from which several were attempting to catch her gaze. Harry's heart fluttered as he watched her walk from the carriage towards the entrance hall, several paces behind the giant woman currently greeting Dumbledore.
He considered raising his hand to try to get her attention but quickly dismissed the thought. They exchanged some letters, and she saw him get knocked out; it's not like they were old friends; if she ignored him in front of the likes of Malfoy, that would be unpleasant.
He glanced at Hermione excitedly, yet, her face was not what he expected. It was slightly scrunched, though it quickly changed when she caught Harry's eye.
"Harry, did you ever write to Fleur?" Hermione asked.
"Uhh, Err, yeah, she asked, right" Harry responded quickly. "You?"
"Once, yes, but we didn't pick up a correspondence or anything," Hermione replied. "I wonder if she–
"Did you guys see Krum? Blimey, I need to get his autograph; Harry, do you have a quill?" Ron interjected forcefully.
The trio made their way into the Great Hall, Ron's stream of consciousness regarding Victor Krum only interrupted by his heartbreak at the Durmstrang student's choice to sit at the Slytherin Table. Not to be deterred, he continued, certain that Krum would see "right through the slimy snakes."
Harry was more interested in the delegation from Beauxbaton, who chose the Ravenclaw table to sit at. Harry wondered if these arrangements would be permanent and then wondered why he was wondering. He didn't really know Fleur and didn't care to gape at Victor Krum. He knew how annoying that could be; his thoughts were interrupted by the Headmaster.
"Welcome to Hogwarts. We hope your journey was pleasant! There will be a time for speeches, but that time is after dinner. Tuck in!"
The plates filled with food, half of which was certainly in Uncle Vernon's category of "foreign sod." Having never had the opportunity, Harry cautiously spooned a helping of what looked like fish stew onto his plate and tentatively took a bite. He was unfamiliar with the texture, but the taste was fantastic.
"Hermione, what is this?" Harry asked, gesturing towards the bowl.
"Bouillabaisse," a smiling French voice called from over his shoulder.
Harry turned around and looked up at the soft smile of Fleur Delacour. A lopsided grin broke across his face, and he rose to greet her.
"Hello Fleur, it's great to see you," Harry said genuinely.
"Bonjoir Arry" Fleur said as she closed the distance between them and kissed both of his cheeks, causing a bright pink blush to break out on Harry's face.
"Ahh, Ermione et is good to see you as well," Fleur said, looking across the table at her.
A strained look crossed Hermione's face, followed quickly by a reply: "Fleur, nice to see you, hope your travels went well."
"Just fine, thank you, it was rather cold in the skies, even with the warming charms; I am thankful for Arry's warning about the weather. Fleur responded, smiling at him.
Harry blushed as he sat back down, making space for the French witch to join them.
"Care to join us, Fleur?" Harry asked politely.
"Ahh, I cannot; we were instructed to sit together for the opening feast. Perhaps a future meal. I just wanted to say ello." She responded simply
"Yeah, no problem," Harry replied. "Uh, Fleur, not sure what you're doing after the feast, but we could show you around the castle if you'd like. Hermione knows just about every scrap of Hogwarts history there is, it seems. Harry asked.
"I would like that very much, but we are to return to our carriage after the feast, perhaps tomorrow?" Fleur replied.
"Yeah, sounds good after breakfast." Harry finished.
"Magnifique," She replied and, with a smile, went back to her table.
Harry turned around to a strange sight. All up and down the Gryffindor table, a glaze was over the eyes of his male classmates, and tense looks were worn by many of the females. Bewildered, Harry looked to Hermione, who seemed to be struggling to hold in a frown.
"Er, Hermione, what is going on?" Harry asked.
"She's not normal," Ron remarked.
"What? Harry replied.
"She's got Veela in her, I'm certain," Ron replied, seeming to return to himself.
Harry thought back to the Quidditch World Cup and the Bulgarian mascots. He recalled that tug on his mind when the Veela were dancing, the faint desire to be noticed by them, then the little voice in his head telling him to snap out of it. He remembered the Egyptian referee making a fool of himself and the disappointed look from Hermione and Ginny that he now recognized on the faces of many of the Griffyndor Lionesses.
"Didn't notice, I guess," Harry replied. "Hermione, what do you think?"
"I think you should ask people before volunteering their services as a Hogwarts tour guide," Hermione said curtly.
"Hermione, did I do something wrong?" Harry asked, bewildered.
"No, Harry, nothing at all," Hermione replied, clearly frustrated. "I just have an immense amount of homework to do and simply cannot spare the time. Please apologize to Miss Delacour for me." Hermonie said, then turned and began a conversation with Dean Thomas.
Harry looked over at Ron, who shrugged and said,
"Witches."
oOOOo
As the last treacle tart was consumed, Dumbledore waved his wand and unveiled a golden goblet filled with blue flames. The cup and fire within were mesmerizing, demanding attention. All in the hall were under its spell.
"As of this moment, the Triwizard tournament has begun." Dumbledore said.
"Any witch or wizard over the age of 17 who wishes to enter must write their name and school name on a piece of parchment and cast it into the fire. I will be drawing an age line around the cup to prevent any younger students who may be tempted to circumvent the rules", Dumbledore comtinued, his eyes twinkling in the direction of Fred and George.
"We will reconvene in two days' time for the selection ceremony. I must impress upon you, who wish to enter, not do so lightly. Entrance constitutes a binding magical contract; there is no turning back. For now, I wish you all a good night."
With that, the dramatic hush was broken by excited whispers of students discussing the new arrivals and beginnings of the tournament.
"Who you reckon it will be from Hogwarts? Lee Jordan asked the group of Gryffindors, making their way back to the common room.
"Well, our dearest Lee, we rather hope that it will be one of us," Fred said mischievously.
"Our aging potion will be done by morning," George said, grinning. "Care to take a crack with us?"
"Think I'll pass, but I can't wait for tomorrow morning," Lee said. "Either you'll be legends for fooling Dumbledore, or it will hilariously backfire; I'm game for either outcome."
"Dearest Lee, we are already legends," Fred responded laughing.
"I'd take some age potion," Ron said excitedly.
"Ronnykins, as much as we'd love to watch you take on a manticore, we didn't brew enough potion to age you up three years. George replied.
"Ohh, yeah, no problem," Ron said, deflated. "I've gotten into a fair few spots of trouble and gotten out the past three years. I think I could try." Ron finished to no one in particular.
"Say, Harry, you wanna give it a go? Could we try to use your Dad's old cloak? Ron said, perking back up."
Harry, who had remained silent, smiled at his friend. "I think I'm out on this one, Ron, but you're welcome to the cloak if you want to give it a go, although not sure if invisibility will get you past an age line," Harry replied.
"Yeah, yeah, you're probably right," Ron said as they arrived at the common room.
"Hey, did you notice something with Hermione?" Harry asked, changing the subject. "Did I do something wrong?"
"Mate, you really think I know," Ron said, making them both chuckle.
Harry could not figure out why Hermione's reaction was so extreme. Maybe Fleur said something in her letter? Who knew? But he was wise enough to know not to push her right now. He would speak with her tomorrow.
oOOOo
Harry arose early the following morning and went on his usual walk. He knew he would be taking Fleur around the castle later, but his routine was second nature at this point. He strolled around the castle, enjoying the quiet of the morning–searching once again for any clues to where "The Gryffindor" would be; today, he was scanning the seventh-floor corridors with some truly wild paintings. The most outlandish of which was of a gentleman named Barnabus the Barmy teaching trolls how to dance. Harry laughed as he took in the photo before moving on. After waiting on a stair to switch and allow him down. He made his way down to the great hall for breakfast.
Walking down the staircase, Harry was stopped by a near-martial procession of Durmstrang students entering the Great Hall with Igor Kararoff at their head. A visibly uncomfortable Victor Krum following in toe. Harry wondered if Durmstrang was some sort of military school and if this was their typical custom.
"Step over the line, Victor, yes, yes, go first." Kakaroff cooed, much to the disgust of his students.
Harry slipped in quietly and found a spot at the Gryffindor table to watch the proceedings. Every Durmstrang student entered their name into the Goblet and then made their way over to a near-empty Slytherin table. Krum was sitting apart from the bulk of his fellow students, talking with a boy about his age. He was not what Harry expected after watching his performance at the World Cup. Harry chuckled at the thought; how many times had that same thought crossed someone's mind looking at Harry?
Breakfast was an exciting affair. A steady stream of Harry's classmates filled the common room, shattering what remained of the calm of the morning. Both Ron and Hermione joined Harry at the table. Hermione with a book in her hand.
"Morning," Harry said.
"Good morning Harry; how are you," Hermione replied, half an octave above her normal voice.
"Er, fine, thanks," Harry replied. "Hey, are we ok?"
"Of course we are," Hermione replied. "I just need to get this Runes essay done. I imagine you'll want help with yours later on." Hermione asked.
"No, I finished mine yesterday morning," Harry responded, still confused by her behavior.
"Ah, er, good work Harry," Hermione replied. "Seems I am behind, have fun with your French girl. I should probably head to the library," Hermione finished grabbing a piece of toast and heading out of the hall.
"What the bloody hell just happened?" Harry asked Ron incredulously
"Ahh, Harry, Harry-Harry, Harry," Fred interjected
"It was bound to happen eventually," George added.
"Frankly, I'm surprised it's taken this long." Fred practically sang.
"Guys, get to the point." Harry said flatly.
"Well, Harry, when a witch likes a wizard, really love each other," George began.
"Get stuffed, you two," Harry said.
And If by "getting stuffed," Harry was implying he wanted a copious amount of facial hair stuffed on the twins' faces, Harry perhaps shouldn't have dropped Divination. The aging potion did not, in fact, fool Dumbledore's age line, and the two were the proud owners of marvelously long beards. Much to Dumbledore and the Hogwarts student body's delight.
"Ron, I know you don't really know Fleur, but do you want to help me give the tour?" Harry asked.
"Think I'll pass. I told Hermione I'd study with her in the library. "I also don't really want to make a fool of myself under her spell," Ron said sheepishly.
"What?" Harry asked incredulously
"Remember at the World Cup, those Veela, how every bloke in the stadium started making fools of themselves; we got caught under the Veela spell." Mum was telling Ginny about it after the match.
Harry was fairly certain not "every bloke" was under a spell. He did not make a fool of himself. Besides, he was more interested in Fleur's dueling prowess than her girl parts.
"Ok, Ron, I'll catch up with you after then," Harry replied.
An elegant procession of blue-clad witches and wizards interrupted their conversation. The Beauxbaton students, Madame Maxine, however, was not among them. Harry scanned the crowd looking for Fleur, and was not disappointed. She was walking with the same elegance displayed the previous night. Her hair was again pulled back tight into a severe but elegant bun, and her expression was once again neutral.
The entire procession, deposited their names into the Goblet and made their way back to the Ravenclaw table for breakfast. Harry, deciding he did not want to sit at the Gryffindor table with nothing to do, made his way over to Fleur.
"Good morning Fleur. Did you sleep well?"
"Fine, thank you, Arry are you collecting me for our tour?" Fleur asked, her mask of neutrality remaining fixed. Gone was the smile she had for him the previous night. Harry was taken aback but recovered quickly.
"No! No, you just sat down. I was going to ask if you wanted to meet me by the stairs when you were finished. I must get something from my room before we depart." Harry said politely.
"No problem, Arry. I will meet you there!" Fleur finished.
oOOOo
"Arry, you mean to tell me that the headmaster of this castle posted a Cerberus behind this door in your first year?" Fleur asked, smiling.
For the past hour, Harry had taken Fleur around the Hogwarts grounds and the first three floors of Hogwarts. Harry was pleased with how easy conversation came for the two of them. Hogwarts was the first place that had ever felt like home; telling Fleur about his memories of the castle brought him immense pleasure and joy.
"Er, yeah, his name was Fluffy." Harry laughed as they continued walking up the stairs.
"Fluffy? Fluffy? are all Englishman mad? Or simply the ones at this school?" Fleur exclaimed, making Harry laugh again.
"Yeah, we're mad," Harry said. Fleur, I have to ask, did I do something wrong approaching you at breakfast? I'm not sure if I broke edict or something, Harry asked.
Fleur's smile faded for a moment, and she looked at Harry seriously.
"Non, Arry, you did not; I am guarded around my classmates; they can be unpleasant at times. They zend to zhink zhe worst of me I try to not give them material," Fleur replied, anger rising.
"Why is that, if you don't mind me asking?" Harry asked cautiously.
"My talent and my erratige" Fleur responded simply.
"Talent, I certainly understand, but heritage? Arent they French as well?" Harry asked.
Fleur began to laugh. "You are a funny one Arry Potter."
"Sorry?" Harry asked, taken aback
.
Fleur's expression changed quickly. "You truly do not know?" Fleur asked.
"It's why I asked," Harry replied, confused.
"I am a Veela, like my mother and my grandmother before me," Fleur replied. Her mask of neutrality slipped back on as she finished. "My classmates either treat me like an alf breed or blame my allure for their relationship problems."
"Allure?" Harry asked.
"You do not feel it do you?" Fleur asked.
"Feel what?" Harry said.
"Arry, look into my eyes," Fleur said, stopping in the ninth-floor corridor.
"Emerald stared into sapphire as Harry felt himself being pulled into the depths of Fleur. A smile crept across his face as the castle began to fade away, and all that was left was blue. A small voice then rose into the back of his mind. "Stop staring, you prat!"; with that, he was jolted from his daze and came back to the castle.
"Whoa, Fleur, I'm sorry, I lost myself there for a minute," Harry said.
A curious expression crossed Fleur's face, "Arry, are you a trained Occlumens?" Fleur asked.
"Fraid, I've never heard of that, so no," Harry replied.
It's a branch of mind magic. The art of defending your mind against unwanted attacks. Fleur responded.
"No, but I was the only one in my class to throw off the Imperius curse. Our defense professor used it on me last week." Harry responded.
"Your defense professor did what? Non, I shouldn't ask; your will must be ironclad. It is a good quality Arry. It allows you to resist my allure, the natural magic of a Veela. You must have seen its effects at the World Cup, non?" Fleur responded.
Harry turned slightly pink at the praise. "Ahh, I see; yes, I definitely remember the World Cup; my friend Ron almost jumped out of the box we were in." Harry laughed as they continued to walk, Harry beginning the tour again. "As you can see on this floor, we have another series of tapestries and portraits that range from normal castle decorations to utterly absu–"
Harry stopped in his tracks. he was staring at a tapestry of a great Gryffen that was staring unblinkingly at a lone wizard whose back was turned. He looked closer at the wizard and saw, strapped across his back, there was a holster for a sword. A holster that was empty. Harry's heart started pounding, and his hand went straight to his pocket where the shrunken sword rested. How could he be so stupid? He had walked past this tapestry the day of his meeting with Dumbledore and had not walked by it since. Gah he was so thick. He was not supposed to find the Gryffindor. He was supposed to find the "Gryffen–door"; this must be it!
"Arry?" Fleur Asked, "Something special about the tapestry?"
"What? Er no, Sorry Fleur, anyways" Harry shoved his excitement down and brought himself back to the present moment. He really did not know Fleur well enough to get into everything now. "Let me show you the funniest painting in the castle. His name is Sir Cadogan. He's up in the North Tower."
After an amusing interchange with the good knight, Harry walked Fleur back towards her carriage. As they arrived, Fleur rounded on him.
"Arry, thank you for the most excellent tour this morning. Ermione was missed, but it was lovely to ear about your favorite parts of the castle." Fleur said kindly.
"Thanks, Harry said. Then, mustering his courage, he asked. "Fleur, I wanted to ask you something."
A look of resignation crossed her face as she said. "Yes, Arry?"
"I know you came here to win the Tournament; I have little doubt you'll be chosen, but do you think you may still have time to help me learn to duel? My professor said he may help me, but I have to prove to him I am good enough."
Fleur's face brightened. "Oui Harry, I already agreed! I would be appy to. Let me get settled and find out what my schedule will be like; perhaps I could teach you on weekends. I am afraid I have to prepare for my exit examinations from Beauxbatons, so I will not ave much time, but I am more than happy to spend time instructing you. It will keep me sharp as well."
"Thank you, Fleur," Harry said.
"De rien," Fleur replied.
With that, Harry began walking back to the castle. Once he heard the carriage door close behind him, he quickened his pace until he was just about running to the ninth floor. As he arrived, he looked around to make sure he was alone.
Running his fingers over the empty sword holster in the tapestry, he felt the faintest of grooves over the opening of the holster. Harry drew the shrunken sword and tapped his wand to it, expanding the blade to its full length. He marveled at its beauty. Perfectly balanced, it felt light as a feather in his hands. Carefully, Harry slowly pressed the tip of the sword into the tapestry. Instead of a rip, the sword slid in perfectly. When it reached the bottom of the holster, Harry felt a faint click, and the sword disappeared. Replaced by the handle to a door with a gryffen etched into the handle.
Harry grasped the handle, opened the door, and stepped inside.
oOOOo
A/N: Alas, a cliffhanger–I will try not to make you wait too long. Drop me a message and let me know if you'd like to see some chapters outside of Harry's POV. I've tried to stay disciplined in that thus far–I have a clear idea of what Fleur is feeling and why–but Harry doesn't. Would you prefer me to have some Fleur POV chapters or discover all alongside Harry?
Let me know!