Friends! (and the family I force to read this), I'd first like to sincerely apologize to all of you for the delay. I did not want to take this long to update but securing adequate time to write became a lot more difficult after summer. A couple months ago, I was promoted to AGM of the restaurant I work at. No congrats necessary. I'm not a fan of my job. I'm just a competent worker, who takes direction well and is surrounded by the exact opposite... so I tend to stand out. The promotion made me do a lot of studying, prep, and interviews on top of the managerial duties I already had, hence the delay.
All that being said my schedule has changed considerably. I'm sad to say I will not be updating as fast as I used to. I will NOT be quitting, but I can't realistically do one chap every week anymore. Sorry. I want to push for two updates a month, but that's me being optimistic. I know I can for sure do one new chap a month. I might experiment with shorter chapters, but this update was supposed to be 7K, and it ballooned to 10.5K. Oh well.
Last, but not least. This chapter was Beta'd by WriteVWrong, and I thank him very much for the assist!
Please enjoy the chapter. I'm very excited for you all to read it and I'm super glad to be back!
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-=REVISED 7/17/2023=-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
I had some time and thought I thought I'd do some simple revisions-mostly grammar stuff, but also including changing the narrative from present tense to simple past tense. Hopefully, it's a better read this way.
Enjoy!
Straight and Narrow, Curved and Widened
The weather had been awful that morning. By that point of the year, it was expected, but Harry was more cognizant of it than he felt, as his mind was split between the morning routine and the events of the previous night. His thoughts revolved around worn information about King Ragnuk's attempt to blackmail the Flamels, the Dark Goblin's war hype and the assassination of the Flamels, the pending decision of the Ministry on whether to arrest Harry for murder, the potential reaction of the French Ministry, Dumbledore's scheming in the name of altruism, the ghoul killing unicorns and the possibility of it being Voldemort's wandering soul, and, of course, the difficulty of accepting that three beautiful, smart girls were actually interested in him... romantically. It was all dreadful and none of it went according to plan.
He stepped out of the castle entrance into the colder, pre-dawn air, with Draco and Daphne behind him, dreading the physical exertion ahead with evident lethargy. Their attitude toward the workout regimen was understandable. Harry didn't just push them to their physical limits; he kept them there until they begged for it to end, and even then he tried to squeeze a little more out of them. It was the first morning since he had awakened, and he was curious to see how they fared without him setting the pace.
The weather was bitterly cold that early in the morning, but Harry quickly forgot about it when he saw Hermione already in their meeting place, stretching in tighter leggings than she usually wore, right beside Fleur. Her attire was also form-fitting, but instead of a loose sweatshirt similar to Daphne's or Hermione's house sweaters, Fleur wore an entire light blue outfit with silver accents that perfectly highlighted her shapely silhouette. It surprised Harry, yet again, even though he and every male in the school already knew.
'Yeah, alright. I get it!' he mentally yelled at his hormonal self. 'She's unbelievably gorgeous. Think about something else!'
A shove of his shoulder and a light chuckle from Draco brought Harry out of his mental reprimand. Instead of dwelling in his embarrassment at being caught staring at Fleur by Draco of all people, he quickly called out, "Morning," as they approached. Daphne suddenly seemed more awake as they huddled in a semi-circle. Hermione was as pleasantly calming as ever, with her large fluff of curly brown hair and chocolate eyes, which competed mightily with the rush of blood Fleur's beautiful presence demanded.
Given all he had overheard and the awkward conversation he had had with Draco about it the night before, Harry felt... odd standing so near to them. The effects of Ogden had made its rounds through their system, and they had not even searched the forest last night. It wouldn't have been smart. But Harry had thought long and hard about the three girls in front of him and how he wanted to proceed. He also felt odd about the plan—or rather, idea—he was contemplating moving forward with. As he lay awake in his plain bed, with his senses swimming from the alcohol, he was determined not to allow these truly amazing girls to burden their good hearts and precious hopes on someone like him—someone broken with a single-minded drive for death and destruction. His purpose wasn't meant for anything else. He truly was the Green Reaper, and it was effortless for him to realize that they deserved better than that... better than him.
"Bonjour Monsieur Trouble Star," Fleur returned sweetly, seeming as vibrant this early in the morning as any other time of the day.
"Morning," Hermione greeted all three Slytherins with a smile.
"Don't forget the flowers for your date with Greengrass, Granger," Draco mockingly teased Hermione. Harry wondered why Draco hadn't teased Daphne earlier, but then he realized the Ice Queen was best friends with Tracey, and mocking her might not be a wise move. But Hermione had no such protection as Draco continued, "We Slytherins expect to be properly wooed."
Harry was ready to retaliate against Draco's taunt when Hermione effortlessly responded, "You know, Malfoy, Ravenclaws prefer to be wooed with intelligence. Sadly, I don't see you ever impressing any of us."
Harry couldn't help but snort, pressing a closed fist to his lips to hold back his chuckle, which turned into a simple humming. Fleur giggled and gently bumped her shoulder against his, and Harry found himself enjoying the sound and sight of Fleur's mirth. Hermione beamed with pride, and Harry liked how she responded to Draco's taunt, just like she would in his timeline. He couldn't help but smile about it.
Even Daphne nodded with a smile, then turned to Draco. "Is that how you prefer to be wooed, Malfoy?" she rhetorically asked. "I'll make sure Tracey knows what you expect of her."
"If you want to tell her something, tell her I know how to treat a lady," Draco grumbled as he moved to the side to start stretching.
"Fleur," Harry began with a nod, "I wasn't expecting you."
"I invited her, actually," Hermione said with a slight hint of timidity, and Daphne let out a long exhale. Arctic blue irises met chocolate brown ones, and Harry sensed an exchange of nonverbal communication between the girls, hinting at some tension. "She mentioned how she missed the physical workout playing Quidditch provided, and well, here she is."
"'Ere I am!" Fleur cheerfully repeated, more attuned to the nuances exchanged between the girls than Harry could ever be.
"Well, do let us know if you need to stop to rest," Daphne offered, her chill matching the November weather. When Daphne started her stretches, Harry asked her to wait.
"There's something that I need to tell you, the three of you," Harry disclosed objectively before raising his privacy charms.
"What about Malfoy?" Hermione asked, glancing at the silver-blonde outside the privacy barrier.
"He already knows," Harry replied.
"Knows what?" Daphne asked, a barely detectable rise of excitement in her tone.
"I know I've already warned you three about how my life can get," Harry began. "The risks and dangers, sort of thing," he lamely stated and was interrupted by the three.
"Only about once a week now," Daphne jestingly said with a knowing smirk, while Hermione added, "you might've mentioned it," and Fleur said, "you 'ave, and eet 'as not detoured us."
"Ha, ha, ha, you joke, but I doubt any of you have been targets of the Goblin Nation before," Harry quickly dropped the news of the possible threat. The three relaxed their shoulders simultaneously, even though their expressions didn't entirely match. Fleur tilted her head and creased her brow in the cutest way, showing curiosity. Daphne's clear eyes widened, and her neat eyebrows raised with genuine interest. Hermione's pink lips parted as she stared at him suspiciously.
"Come again?" Hermione curiously asked.
"What do you mean the Goblin Nation," Daphne asked.
"Yes please explain," Fleur added to the common sentiment.
Harry briefly but effectively explained how the knowledge of Nāga could make them a target of interest and how they needed to be careful with the information of his basilisk. "I'm not saying they or Flitwick will definitely approach you, but still, you know about him, his location, and me, so there's a significant enough of a chance."
"When can we see 'im?" Fleur asked, casually brushing aside the possible threat of Goblins aside.
"Fleur," Hermione gasped. "This is serious. Basilisk venom is among the most regulated substances on the planet. I'm fairly certain it's the most expensive natural liquid on the market. We need to be careful."
"Of course 'Ermione," Fleur returned. "I do not mean to make light of eet, 'owever all we need do ees say nozhing of Nāga to anyone. Zhat should not be difficult. Eef anyone asks you or Daphne eef you've seen a basilisk when Ares rescued you, all you say ees non. Simple."
"Not quite that simple for citizens of this country," Daphne pointedly told Fleur. "There are more repercussions for us if the DMLE or the Wizengamot ever discovered we lied to them; severe repercussions not only for ourselves but our families as well."
"I can always make you forget," Harry suggested to the three, trying to cut into any hostility. "Only if you want. This knowledge means a lot to a lot of wealthy or influential wizards, and it could hurt or end your futures before they even start. I'd understand if you don't want to take that kind of risk."
"I do not require such alteration," Fleur quickly told him, not even taking a moment to consider the offer. "I prefer to see zhe world as eet ees, not 'ow I would like eet."
"This is exactly the kind of knowledge I'd rather know," Daphne conveyed, doing an amazing job holding in her zeal in all but her eyes. "So, no memory charm for me."
"You really weren't joking about the extremes of your life," Hermione commented, to which Harry shrugged with a lazy, more exasperated, nod. "I think the thing that hurts our future the most is ignorance. Not to mention intelligence is the bedrock of an informed decision. We can't be prepared if we don't know what we need to, so, I'll also decline, but I'm curious to know how you learned to alter memory."
"Perenelle and Nicolas can both do it," Harry easily answered, quickly wondering if that was true. "They taught me."
"So what are we doing about this?" Daphne asked.
"Nicolas is going to take the lead," Harry answered. "When I learn something, you'll learn it as well. So, for now, be careful."
"Eef zhat ees all, I am quite eager to work up a sweat wizh you," Fleur announced with a vibrant smile that somehow made the cold air around them seem less cruel and more soothing. With a nervous swelling of his chest, Harry simply removed the privacy charms, and they started their morning workout. Of the three, Daphne still found it the most challenging, but as a group, they did well and kept pace with him. Harry was happy for the clarity of mind that working out brought, and he stayed out just a little bit longer than normal.
—
Breakfast in the Flamels' dormitory was comfortable and enjoyable. Harry was able to introduce Dobby to Nicolas, Perenelle, and the rest: Hermione, Fleur, Luna, Daphne, Tracey, Draco, Gabrielle, and Astoria. "I was hoping he could start organizing the library, since, let's face it, neither of you are ever going to organize those mountains of books," Harry said, and a smile crept onto his face when he heard Hermione whisper to herself, "mountains," as if in a trance.
"Dobby would be most honored, Head Masters," Dobby said.
"Dobby I told you in private, just use our names," Harry explained again.
"Even though I abhor the idea of enslaving elves, or slavery in general," Perenelle stated, to which Hermione nodded in agreement. "I'm okay with this arrangement, so long as it's a fair wage."
"It's more than Dobby could ever dream of spending," Dobby answered.
"Well, we will be needing to do a lot of research this winter break," Nicolas reasoned aloud. "Sounds good to me."
"Dobby will not let Masters down!" the house-elf cried, hugged Harry, and then snapped away to work on his task with gusto.
The knock on the door allowed Snape to enter and request Harry's presence in the Headmaster's office. Nicolas remained silent, likely not trusting himself to say anything that wouldn't be rude in front of impressionable company. Perenelle turned to Harry, concern clear on her face. Fleur was as reserved as Daphne, while Hermione and Tracey showed a bit of worry. Draco continued eating, unconcerned.
"I'll see you guys on the field," Harry told his group as the Head of Slytherin waited impatiently for him. Excusing himself from breakfast, Harry, with Nova on his shoulder, followed Professor Snape to the Headmaster's office. After providing another odd candy assortment for the password—jelly-filled dung-beetles—they silently walked up the circular steps to Dumbledore's round office. Harry could hear the odd and ends of queer devices before he even stepped inside. It had always been a warmly inviting atmosphere in the den of deans, until the moment he saw the honored headmaster at his desk... always at his desk, to complete the humble appeal.
"Ah, our gallant hero has at long last arrived," Dumbledore cheerfully began, watching the Slytherin pair as they entered.
Harry completely ignored his elder in favor of marching straight to Fawkes, who seemed to be napping on its stand. Harry tapped the other side of the stand, and Nova hopped right into place. Looking over Fawkes' talons, he confirmed one of his suspicions.
'Of course, Dumbledore wouldn't shackle his own Phoenix to prove himself fair. No,' Harry thought. 'His phoenix gets to be free.' As if sensing Harry's rising distress, Fawkes opened her brilliant gold-colored eyes, looking from Harry to her extended family, then to the anti-flaming, anti-tampering, nearly indestructible cloth shackle on Nova's foot.
"Can you take that off of her?" Harry asked Fawkes. "Nova hates it."
"She cannot, I'm afraid," Dumbledore softly interjected and indicated with a gentle hand, "please, have a seat."
Fawkes craned her neck to wrap over Nova's smaller neck before trilling easily, calmly, in an effort to comfort the younger phoenix made of at least half of her ashes. Nova accepted her motherly comfort, stepping closer and cooing her own grief, breaking Harry's heavy heart.
Harry's chest cavity swelled with malice-induced adrenaline. A flick of his wrist, and his death-white wand was in his grasp. "Take the seal off of her," he demanded, not too loudly, but his ferociousness was unmistakable. When he turned to the men, they were very focused on Harry's wand, until they saw his eyes. Harry knew his emerald eyes were glowing a ferocious green, the exact color of the killing curse. If their immediate draw to his eyes wasn't enough to give him an indication, then reading their magical makeup and temperament was enough to tell him so.
Dumbledore's magical makeup was easily the strongest concentration he'd ever seen, not that he had much experience with this magical sight. The elder's vibrating aurora gave Harry the impression of something heavy, and despite his calm demeanor, at the moment it was pulsing with rushed activity. Harry couldn't say for certain, but he got the impression Dumbledore's magic wasn't quick-reacting; that is to say, he didn't turn it on and off without drag. It made Harry wonder if the sage wizard kept his pressure on the pulse until he knew there would be no need for further casting. It would explain why Dumbledore's magic was much more active than Snape's. Surprisingly, Snape's magic had a gentle texture to it; light, nimble, but not nearly as potent as Dumbledore's. Of course, he could be interpreting what he was seeing incorrectly, as it was still a developing skill, but for now, he'd assume he was right until proven otherwise.
Dumbledore palmed his desk, pushing himself to rise to his feet as Snape took a step back, not in fear, though he was clearly confused and unsure of how to respond, but rather to be properly facing sideways with Harry should he need to act. Harry could tell they were both on the defensive, and that's exactly what he wanted. While extremely angry with the Headmaster over what the old man somehow felt entitled to do to Nova, Harry wasn't so angry that he would assure expulsion when he still had plans that kept him in Hogwarts.
Still, the anger was there, tempting, and not hard to draw on as he took a commanding step forward. "Take that bloody manacle off her!" His anger brought out a stifling pressure, similar to wearing a thick cloak in the middle of summer, as both professors quickly brought out their wands.
"Now, young man, you listen to me and consider your actions," Dumbledore began, as Snape wisely remained silent. "Violence will solve nothing here. If you have a grievance, we can discuss it calmly."
"With who? You?" a hot Harry nearly chuckled. "How should I go about discussing my grievance, with the source of my grievance? You, who don't seem to have a twinge of remorse for maiming my familiar!"
"I understand you're upset," Dumbledore tried to pacify the youth. "But you must remain calm and keep control, before you cross a line you will regret."
"If anyone's going to regret what happens next, it'll be you," Harry fiercely returned.
The stifling seconds of silence festered, increasing in fickle agitation as opposite sides took stock of each other's clout; Harry with his glowing killer-green eyes, death-white wand, and a pressure that could only be described by the targets of his ire as suffocating. Dumbledore, along with Snape, consciously considered how all of this could go very wrong in the next moment or so. The only thing keeping the three from destroying the office was that all three wands were currently aimed at the floor; a bearing that could change in the blink of an eye.
Harry noted Snape's swallow, while Dumbledore gave nothing away. Harry tightened his grip on his wand, ready to accept whatever fallout happened as a result. While he certainly intended to show them how serious he was about his phoenix being shackled, among other misguided decisions on their part, facing the heralded headmaster and a fair dueler like Snape was certainly not the best of plans. But he couldn't back down now. He wouldn't. It would be counterproductive to any assistance he might need from them in the future. The task at hand was to take it just far enough, delicate and difficult as that was.
So it was a near visible relief when Nova landed on his shoulder, softly rubbing her feathered head against his with a calming trill of a chorus. It certainly seemed like she preferred to avoid any drastic action, or, it's possible she might have an innate knowledge of her master's desires, though he couldn't be certain. It was the type of act that reminded him of Hedwig—how she looked out for him when he would act before thinking—and made him proud to have her as his familiar.
"Would you like me to call the Aurors," Snape asked, never taking his eyes off of an enraged Harry—now shouldering his impressive black and red phoenix—which only made the fourteen-year old that much more menacing.
"Yes, professor, call them," Harry bellowed, registering the slight loss of tension in the air. "I'd love to file a complaint against the headmaster."
"What I freely admit doing to your familiar is not observed by our laws as an unjust offense," Dumbledore informed Harry. "I am sure even they would see it is for the safety of everyone in this castle."
"Oh, how I highly doubt that," Harry answered back, the green of his eyes danced amused. "What you did was for the sole satisfaction of your control."
"That is not accurate," Dumbledore plainly stated. "But if you wish to have any further discussion about this, than you must put away your wand."
"...You first," Harry countered. After a deep pondering breath, Dumbledore slowly returned his legendary wand to its place in his robes, but Harry could see his magic vibrate that much quicker, likely in preparation for an attack. "Both of you," Harry demanded, eyeing at Snape. The Potions Master looked Dumbledore a moment, who nodded before he too withdrew his wand. Though vibrating the same way, Snape's magic danced nervously.
"So you're willing to trust I won't curse you both, but enslaving a divine creature: no objections there, huh? Perfectly acceptable that," Harry griped as he allowed his wand to retract into its holster.
"I can assure you it is not enslaved," Dumbledore reassured.
"I'm sure you can feel your Phoenix as much as I can feel my own," Harry returned, eyes still glowing. "Don't fabricate nonsense to pacify me. You're going to remove that damn thing from her leg, because if I have to do it—which I have no doubt I'm capable of—I will never trust you, nor will I ever work with you. The fate of the world could hinge on our working together and even then, I'd rather let it all burn." Dumbledore seemed to appraise him, and his words, and possibly found value in them.
"...It's admirable to see how much you care for your familiar," Dumbledore began gesturing to the open chair in front of his large mahogany desk. "If you're open to it, we can discuss how you see us working together in this future of yours."
Harry turned down the invitation with a long blink combined with slight shake of his head. "I'm not against allies. I never was, but I'd very much prefer it if they stopped acting like my enemies."
"There's a fair amount wrong in that sentence," Dumbledore stated, taking his seat as Snape stepped to the side of the chair, a unified impression of loyalty if Harry ever saw one.
Snape folded his cloaked palms over each other in front of him as he asked, "You can't possibly be suggesting Headmaster Dumbledore treats you as an enemy after your near act of lunacy?"
"Can't I, professor?" Harry returned just as intensely. "He hired a mass murderer—who, from what I've been told, he couldn't distinguish from an old friend. That mass murderer then nearly killed me among many others. He bound me when I tried to save Perenelle and the others. He crippled my Phoenix, and all this from the 'great' man that's suppose to protect me? No professor, I'm afraid actions speak louder than words and the Headmaster seems just as dangerous in my eyes as any other threat I've come across in my life. Only, in this case, his angle of attack is of the collateral variety."
"How self-center-" Snape started, but abruptly cut himself off. Instead, stating, "It should go without saying, but if you're too absorbed in your own tragedy, allow me to properly clarify it for you. The headmaster is not attacking you. To even think such a thing is ignorance of the-"
"I can certainly see why you might believe I am against your well-being," Dumbledore cut in. "But that couldn't be further from the truth. I am your Headmaster. Not under some flawed sense of entitlement, but fully and committed. Everything I do is for the safety, protection, and education of all those under my charge. And it's my greatest joy to do so."
"That's fantastic, Headmaster, really," Harry expressed with no real feeling. "But I hope you don't expect me to believe that, as if your kindly disposition and righteous concern to protect us at all cost is supposed to explain why you crippled my familiar."
"As I've already stated, your familiar is perfectly fine," Dumbledore returned.
"And as I've already stated, don't piss on me and try to tell me it's rain." Harry spat back, and the adults shirked, clearly not a fan of the analogy. "You reward her ability to save lives by taking said ability away? How about we put one of those shackles on your Phoenix and see how you like the feel her sadness."
"I can see how you might misunderstand," the Headmaster continued. "But the key issue here isn't with her commendable actions to guard the well-being of students, but with the dark forces that would use her ability to gain entrance into these halls. We know the ultimate goal of the perpetrators behind the acromantula attack was to kidnap a member of the Flamel household. It's not difficult to imagine they will try again, and quite likely, may use their hostage to blackmail you for your effortless access into this castle. That is not a risk I am willing to take. Think of how worse you or your Phoenix would feel if you were responsible for an attack in mass and subsequent loss of young innocent life."
"Don't you have a brother?" Harry asked rather pointedly. "What's stopping these perpetrators from blackmailing you through your brother to breach the castle?"
"I am quite certain that would never happen," Dumbledore confidently stated.
"That's funny, because I'm fairly certain it'd never happen to me either, but instead of retaining all my advantages for such a threat, you've taken some away. Not to mention, what do you think these perpetrators would do to my familiar if their use for her is all but gone? I can't imagine it would end well for her."
"Until we know more or the perpetrators are apprehended, I'm afraid the risk of breach must be mitigated," Dumbledore responded, nearly sympathetically. "As difficult as it is to hear, I would ask that you think about your fellow students, and what is best for them."
Dropping his head some and letting out some frustration, Harry commented, "It amazes me to see someone so revered be this misguided," before returning his focused attention on Dumbledore. "I suppose I'll have to do it myself. Just remember, I did warn you."
"I would not recommend attempting to break through my rune ward," Dumbledore suggested. "It is… complex to say the least, and a fruitless endeavor of wasted time and energy."
"Accept my place as sheep without question, is that it?" Harry suspected aloud. "What is time and energy to helping my friend? Well worth it."
"We are not adversaries, as you well aware know, as all in this room know," Dumbledore reasserted. "The real enemy is far darker. Severus was kind enough to mention your luncheon yesterday at the Three Broomsticks. Quite the gathering, I've been told, and the second time you've divulged Voldemort's true identity. Despite the anagram you gifted me with, I'm relatively certain you, Nicolas, and Perenelle know more about him than you let on. I further suspect our goal, if not our approach, of eradicating our actual villain, are more aligned than we've thus shared."
"Who knows, maybe. We know quite a lot, I'd say," Harry mentioned. "We were quite surprised at how little the large majority wizards know of his history, as if the historians collectively took a break from researching the latest, and possibly greatest Dark Lord in recent memory, then completely forgot to do their job."
"Why do you bring him into a conversation he need not be in?" Dumbledore asked. "Why is it important to you he be publicized beyond the atrocities already well documented? What do you gain by terrifying those that knowledge does very little or nothing to help?"
"It's interesting you should ask that," Harry pondered aloud. "Not necessarily because if there's anyone that should know who Tom Riddle is, I reckon it ought to be Hardwin and Lily Potter. No, not interesting because of that, but because it sounds quite oddly like your circling to the point of this meeting, an inkling that tells me you want something from me. I don't know what it is and I can't say I want to know, but this conversation will go nowhere—Tomorrow's conversations will go nowhere. I suggest you start learning that I am not your typical fourteen-year-old, because anything you need, want, would ask of me is, as of this moment, restricted, until you decide to be a decent human being and remove that fucking shackle from my familiar!"
A silence shared with Snape stretched, as Dumbledore said nothing; not even to admonish him for swearing. They both stared, measuring the confidence in the vibrant green eyes of a highly capable fourteen-year-old, and were forced to consider that his words held more weight despite his age.
"What would quarreling amongst ourselves gain but a respite for the forces of the dark arts?" Dumbledore finally asked, rhetorically. "I can make no promises, however, I am willing to use my position to inquire additional details of the investigation into last week's attack, as well as possible further enhancements to our defenses, among other safeguards, in order to allow your phoenix's complete freedom. I am willing to work toward compromise, however, I would ask for your patience, along with a request of my own."
"A request?" Harry questioned, not at all surprised. "Really? You're the one who shackled her, and now you want to charge me to remove it?"
"I'll remind you that I am willing to accept the significant risk to this castle and all its inhabitants your familiar poses," Dumbledore reassessed. "And I assure you it is a benign request, hardly worthy of the word." Harry lamely nods his head simply to hear the Headmaster's request, barely refraining from rolling his eyes. "I'm a firm believer that intelligence deserves- nay, begets honesty. As such, I will not insult yours. You've stated, you are not the typical fourth year, and in some respects, I would agree. That being said, for quite some years now, I've been waging a silent war against dark forces; A cold war. Have you heard of this term?" he asked and Harry nodded with a bored expression, eyes still glowing. "Recently, it has become quite active. Against these dark forces, I wish to protect society's most treasured heir; the vanquisher of a Dark Lord. A young man now, who has sadly been in danger since infancy."
"Hardwin Potter," Harry announced with such lackluster, even impressing Snape.
Dumbledore nodded nonetheless and continued. "I must admit, the moment I learned of your enrollment, I had entertained designs of friendship between yourself and Mr. Potter. While little about the past four months has gone as I might have imagined, I would very much appreciate an effort on your part to reach out and befriend young Hardwin."
Staring at the old man with squinting glowing eyes, Harry vocalized his disbelief. "...You want me to be friends with Hardwin Potter?"
"I do, yes. And I believe in time, you might feel grateful to have done so," Dumbledore answered in his goodly grandfather tone with a tilt of his head. "He really is a sweet boy, earnest and loyal. You seem to take no issue associating yourself with other houses, breaking cardinal convention by sitting at the Ravenclaw table, and I will admit, I, along with his sadly widowed mother, Lily, would rest a little easier knowing you're by his side should he happen to come under the perils his life attracts."
"So that's the negotiation?" Harry cleared up. "I befriend Hardwin and you remove Nova's shackle?" 'Dumbledore's spy right in my circle,' Harry's mind clarified.
"I would never use a promising friendship for bartering," Dumbledore asserted. "That would be indecent."
"No more so than crippling my Phoenix in the first place," Harry muttered loud enough for them to hear. "I don't have a problem with making friends, even with him, but don't expect any sort of cooperation from me about anything until you remove that prison wrapped around Nova's leg. And if I were you, I wouldn't wait too long," he said, getting up to leave and ending any further discussion. Though curious by what this timeline's Dumbledore might have done differently, Harry needed to test Dumbledore. If the old man could see the error in his ways, then Harry could feel some hope working with the man. If not, Harry was content to just go it alone.
"You haven't been dismissed yet," Snape irritably pointed out.
Harry stopped with the door's handle in his hand as Nova landed gracefully on his shoulder. He didn't answer either professor and didn't bother to look at Dumbledore.
"...Have a wonderful-," Dumbledore began to dismiss, but was cut off as Harry, without any delay, Harry exited the Headmaster's office before the old man could finish. Agitation followed him on his way down the tower and through the portrait halls. It was more grating than he had anticipated, and Harry had to stop to give himself time to calm down.
—
Harry made his way to the field, contemplating with every step the fates of both of his familiars, Nāga and Nova, the demands by the goblins and their king, the threat by the dark goblins, the possibility of arrest by the ministry, Dumbledore's manipulation, and the most problematic complication consuming his every other thought—his hormones.
He couldn't anticipate how powerfully possessive his libido was over his conscious and unconscious mind, or what a slave his body would be to it. Not that he didn't have control, but it was the easiest thing to forget when he was in their presence. Harry was most amazed by how thoughts of them could, at times, compete with his night terrors, causing him to wake up with a different physiological response. Walking out into the November chill, he could easily make out his group in the distance, already in the air, practicing with their brooms under the tutelage of Viktor Krum.
Harry looked up at them as he approached, enjoying their time together. Fleur and Tracey were laughing freely, Draco and Viktor were thrilled to be on a broom, while Luna and Daphne seemed simply content with the activity. Hermione, on the other hand, was incredibly anxious, near the point of terrified. He didn't expect much from her and was already impressed that she was on her broom to begin with, and so high up as well.
Tilting his head slightly, he caught sight of his phoenix out of his peripheral. "You know I'm going to get that thing off you," he confidently informed his familiar. His group hadn't noticed him yet, not until Nova trilled happily, despite the ache of being arrested from using her magically given ability. Overcoming his joy, Draco was the first to notice Harry but decided to stay with Tracey. "How about we forget about everything for a bit, and just play? You think you can catch me without flaming?" Harry teased his legendary familiar as he noticed Hermione slowly and cautiously flying a shaky line toward him.
Without delay, Nova screeched triumphantly, accepting the challenge by spreading her beautiful midnight wings high, and blasting gusts of wind everywhere as she rocketed into the sky. Her dark plumage nearly disappeared even in the gloomy white of the graying sky. What Harry hadn't expected was the strength of the gust created doing more than flaring his clothes with the erratic push and pull of the wind. With a loud shriek, Hermione screamed as she was swept over by the strength of Nova's launch, causing her to fall off her broom.
Though surprised, Harry had more than enough time to slow her downward momentum, and as her back was leading the fall, he caught her princess style. "Hey-" he started, but she wrapped her arms around his neck, abruptly cutting him off and leaving him bewildered. That is until he felt the way her arms shook as she held on to him tightly. For the first time since he could remember, he really wondered about the source of her aversion to flying.
Making a note to gently ask her about it later, he simply swayed gently from side to side, similar to how Perenelle had taught him to hold and comfort Nova when she was much smaller. "Hey, now. You're okay, Hermione," he consoled into the cinnamon bronze of her fluffy hair.
"Sorry," she tried to say mid-sob. "Uh, I'm such a klutz," she weakly added, though not looking at him. The others joined him by this point; Draco and Tracy hovering on their brooms, Luna, Daphne, Fleur, and Krum having descended foot to chilled earth.
"Ermyonene," Krum called, though the Bulgarian couldn't help brooding over how Harry was still holding her. "Are you injured?" he asked, moving very close to them.
Only then did Hermione notice their audience and scrambled to be put down by ending her embrace and pushing away. Harry let her down as she answered, completely red in the face, "I-I-I'm fine, now. I fell, uh, off the broom, of course. Ares just caught me," she told the floor, avoiding all eye contact. "Th-thank you, Ares."
Daphne and Fleur eyed the girl skeptically as Harry told her, "It's fine. It was sort of my fault anyway. I didn't think Nova would be so excited," he told them, though he scanned the white and gray skies for his dark bullet and found nothing. Harry was content to let her stretch her wings a bit. He didn't think he'd be able to out-fly her unless she was a little tired first.
"What happened with Dumbledore?" Tracey asked from her aerial perch.
Harry turned to the group and simply replied, mostly for Krum's benefit, "I'll tell you all later. For now, I'd like to know how the lessons are coming while Nova's warming up."
"Warming up for what?" Daphne picked on.
"Just a little game of tag," he easily answered as he Accioed Hermione's broom wandlessly and wordlessly into his hand. "It's her favorite game," he finished as he handed it over to a wide-eyed Hermione. The satisfied swell in his chest made him wonder about the definition of showing off and if he was guilty of it.
"Most ov dhem are satisfactory, vith strong potential," Krum reported. "I vill vork vith Ermyonene longer to elevate her flying ability to levels she vill be proud of."
Harry wasn't sure what to argue, but he wanted to argue with the Bulgarian Quidditch star and told him, "Thanks, but I already have an idea I think will work well."
"I can't see anything helping Granger," Draco threw out. "It took her thirty minutes just to get as high as she did."
"While I loathe to agree with Malfoy," Hermione started. "It's true. I really am hopeless on a broom."
"That's okay," Harry easily told her. "I don't need you to be the best flier. That's not what this is about. I want you to be confident enough on a broomstick to help Luna, Fleur, Daphne, me, or anyone else who's depending on you to save them. That doesn't mean it'll be easy, but I know how much you care about your friends, and for them, I have no doubt you can do this."
Hermione beamed, her cheeks blushing, but her eyes filled with determination. It was all the motivation she didn't know she needed, and he couldn't be more right. "For now, just stick low to the ground and practice runs from end to end, getting faster each time," he told her, and she nodded determinedly.
"What about us?" Fleur asked sweetly, taking a sensual step closer, eying him seductively or simply normally, because he couldn't say what was driving her appeal more: her natural beauty or his libidinous desires.
"Aren't you nearly professional?" Daphne genuinely asked the French Veela, also taking a step closer toward Harry, standing tall and elegant beside Fleur.
"Today, I just want to see everyone fly, so if you're all willing, you can help me try and catch Nova," Harry said, scanning the skies to see if she was ready, barely spotting her soar higher and faster than he'd ever witnessed before. "I should warn you, it'll be impossible."
"Oh dear," Luna called, placing a small hand on her forehead and drawing most to look at her. "I had hoped I was wrong, but it seems my health has taken a turn for the worse. What are the odds?" Luna shrank her broomstick and clasped it on her bracelet.
"I'll take you to the infirmary," Hermione stated. When Harry looked at her, she told him, "I'd also like to go to the library, study on the theory of flying before I meet Daphne later-"
"For your date," Draco finished, to which Tracey slapped his shoulder, muttering, "boys."
Hermione rolled her eyes before she and Luna bid farewell to everyone. Without asking or expressing his intent in any way, Krum simply took it upon himself to escort them. Hermione seemed uncertain, glancing behind her briefly before the three left. "Nova," Harry easily said, and they could hear the steadily increasing whistling that indicated she was getting closer. With just three seconds before the impending calamity his mind warned him about, Harry yelled, "Everyone down!"
Most of them seemed to have internal alarms of their own, which they heeded well. Draco grabbed Tracy and flew away as fast as possible. Daphne and Fleur weren't sure what to expect and only had a couple of seconds to guess. Within that window of time, Harry wrapped an arm around each girl's waist and brought them to the cold floor before Nova cut through the air faster than a comet toward them. Instantly, strong wings spread and burst through the drag like an explosion of gust, creating cyclones of wind that ruptured the cold floor with the shredding force of a tornado.
Holding them close, Harry magically stuck them to the ground and protected them with a brief shield to ensure they didn't fly away. The blast of air didn't last more than a couple of seconds before the wind became bearable, and Nova innocently landed on Harry's shoulder. She adjusted herself as Harry got up, announcing, "I guess she's warmed up."
"You call that warmed up?" Daphne called back as she accepted his hand. Harry helped Fleur up as well, while Daphne continued, "It felt like I was in the middle of a tornado."
Fleur laughed, "My, 'ow exhilarating!"
Draco and Tracy slowly descended from a higher altitude as the three below magically cleared blades of grass and drizzling dirt from their uniforms.
"Well, it's never been that strong before," Harry explained apologetically. He turned to Nova, telling her, "We're going to try and catch you, okay girl. Avoid getting caught, stay within sight of the castle, and don't go too high."
Nova trilled and cooed before slowly ascending not too high in the air and circling the group in a prepared holding pattern. Harry then told the group, "If you can catch Nova, you might be ready for the Quidditch league."
"Do we get anything if we catch her?" Daphne asked playfully. At his curious look, she continued, "as an incentive?"
"Pride,' Harry easily answered as he brought out his Firebolt with a wandless unshrinking charm. He paused, feeling the ferocious life within the broom roaring through his fingertips. Harry had held racing brooms before, but he had never imbued his magic in preparation for flying until now. It felt like the magic was raging in his grasp, and somewhere deep in his belly, a bubble of excitement stirred, something he thought was long gone after years of suffering. It wasn't a strong feeling, not unlike feeling sensation in a limb after years of paralysis, but even a small amount felt monumental to him and triggered a mental descent into his most painful past.
Suddenly, he felt dread rush through the faulty flesh of his body, telling him, 'You're dying,' and though the atmosphere was cold, he broke out in a panic sweat. Holding the performance broom was a stark reminder of his past, what he could've been before it all went terribly wrong, and his entire system spiked with deep, shaky anxiety, easily unsettling his serenity. It was odd how detached his mind could be when it was telling him he was having another panic attack, as he slowly felt like he was suffocating and became unstable.
'Your friends rot on a wall and you're playing?' A sinister version of his voice asked. 'You never cared. They should've never trusted you. No one should ever trust you!' Harry was attacked with his fears. 'You're no savior, and they died because you never told them how worthless you really are. You, weak and talentless, were glad they died... to be free of the unyielding pressure... to take a deep breath, Ares."
Harry, eyes wet and irritated, nose packed with cold stuffing, looked up to Draco's focused yet calm face. "Deep breaths. In. And out," Harry heard the silver-blond repeat, instructing him to focus on his voice and take deep breaths. It was the first time he wasn't terribly pained to see his schoolyard nemesis and attempted to do as instructed. On his shoulder, Nova was singing her calming song, battling away the crippling barrage of guilty derangement, and settling his unstable emotions. Harry let Draco direct his breathing as he calmed down, and after several long moments, he cleared his eyes and cheeks of their moisture as he stood, turning away from the group's gaze. It wasn't the first time he had broken down in front of people, but it was just as embarrassing every time.
"Memories?" Draco asked. Harry knew that Draco knew their audience could hear them, which meant the silver-blond was purposely asking loud enough for them to hear. And for a moment, Harry couldn't understand why until he recalled that this was his safe zone, and honesty in his safe zone was paramount. He couldn't hide here. While he wasn't sure about Tracey's presence, having Daphne and Fleur witness his breakdown, if unavoidable, felt somewhat less distressing.
"...Yeah," an unexpectedly drained Harry simply answered.
"Better?" Draco asked from behind him.
"...Yeah," Harry weakly answered, though he couldn't bring himself to thank the silver-blonde without feeling further tremendous guilt.
"Good. Now, can I get back to my flying, or do you need to breastfeed too?" Draco gratingly asked, returning to the Draco Harry knew and happily hated. "Why don't I sing you a lullaby and cradle you to sleep while I'm at it?"
"There's no doubt in my mind you're worthy of the title, Most Unbelievable Twat," Harry huffed, still trying to catch his breath.
Fortunately, Tracey walked over and slapped Draco's shoulder without stopping, saying, "Merlin, you were doing so well, and then out came the Draco I remember."
"Ow!" Draco hooted. "Stop! I was- ow, okay, I was just joking!"
"Thank you, Tracey," Harry started, hoping to ruin Draco's day, even just a little, to improve his own mood. "Sometimes it's like he doesn't know when to stop." Draco glared at Harry, who tried to hold in his smile. "I'm glad you're caring enough to show him how his words affect people."
Tracey shoved an irate Draco away, likely to yell at him a bit more in private, as Slytherins might. Harry allowed a small smile to crack his face then, feeling normal but brittle. He slowly dared to look at Fleur and Daphne and gauge any reaction they might have; sympathy, pity, confusion, alarm, concern, and to his surprise, they seemed even-headed, observant, waiting for his lead. It was bonkers to Harry that they didn't seem turned off by him. He looked away, unsure of what to make of their ease in the face of such a damaged person.
Harry shook his head, turning back to Fleur and Daphne. "I guess it's no surprise by now, I'm a bit barmy."
"You're not," Daphne reassured him as she and Fleur stepped up to him. "Nothing about what you're going through is anything to be ashamed of or embarrassed about."
"Eet ees not as uncommon as you zhink," Fleur added. "Een my mozher's culture our soldiers are not disgraced by wounds suffered een battle, whezher physical or mental."
"I'm sure life would be better without going mental all the time," Harry commented even as he actively told himself not to. Talking about this with Perenelle or Nicolas was nerve-racking enough, and they knew nearly everything about him. To talk to Fleur and Daphne, if only a single comment, made him extremely nervous.
"Life's a big book," Daphne said nonchalantly. "While the current chapter of your life may be tough and dark, it's certainly not the end, and it can get better."
"I agree completely," Fleur backed Daphne up. "You 'ave yet to reach zhe chapters not suitable for children," she said with a sensual smirk. "I zhink you will love zhat time zhe best, non?" she asked with a sassy smirk and devilish a wink. "Possibly re-read multiple times?"
"Fleur," Daphne huffed with mild irritation, unsure how the French witch could be so bold in front of a boy, let alone the object of their mutual affections.
"Yes, Daphne?" Fleur sweetly called, obviously playing innocent of any inappropriate insinuations. "I simply zhink he will enjoy zhe unknown pleasures of what may come. I know I myself would not mind a solid seven or eight, long pages of thorough reading."
'That was unbelievably hot,' Harry's first, second and third impression said. He didn't even recognize the moment the atmosphere changed, charged with absolute sensuality oozing off of Fleur. His mental defense was bombarded with synergy targeting the eager system of the brain that dealt with pleasure and euphoria. His breathing quickened, green eyes dilated, and despite his tremendous willpower, his groin demanded more blood, threatening to make his appearance known.
Fleur's allure even affected Daphne. The blonde-haired, blue-eyed Ice Queen blushed madly, and her breath quickened as well. Like Harry, she found it nearly impossible to see anything but Fleur. As the only boy between two incredibly beautiful girls, Harry called, "Fleur, um, your allure..." as he felt himself grow with every loss of composure.
"You see," Fleur happily sang. "Life can be exciting too, non?"
"That much excitement is likely to give someone a heart attack!" Daphne cried, almost offended. She was breathing heavily, exhausted with her left palm pressed against her heaving chest and her right cupping her blushing cheek.
"Uwah," Fleur winced. "My apologies Daphne. I was too enzhusiatic."
"Whether I forgive you or not, your allure is incredibly invasive, and some people may not like it," Daphne stated, flustered by her loss of control more than anything.
For her part, Fleur appeared embarrassed more than regretful and looked to Harry for answers. It didn't take Harry longer than a fraction of a second to realize he did not have any answers for the French beauty, nor did he know how to defuse the situation, if it indeed was one. Instead, Harry was eager to blow past the awkwardness. "How about a bit of flying?" Holding back wonderful memories of exhilarating times on a racing broomstick, Harry didn't hesitate to grip his Firebolt and step over it into position.
Both girls nodded, taking a position themselves. Feeling what must be joy, Nova expanded her midnight wings high before launching farther into the skies like a bolt out of a bow. With a smile, Harry kicked off the ground and immediately felt the compounding pressure of forcing that much air in front of him out of the way. For the briefest of milliseconds, he felt completely still. Then the compression of air gave way to his upward demand, wind blaring with a bang as he gave chase. Harry didn't expect to actually catch Nova; her maneuverability was far greater than any broomstick, but he was more than eager to see how close he could get to the legendary aviator.
Harry had to conjure goggles to keep the wind from cutting into his eyes. He pushed the Firebolt as fast as it could go, and he barely kept Nova in his sights. Still, the whole experience lightened his heart considerably. Throttling through the air, constantly challenging the speed of sound simply to keep Nova in his sights cleared his mind of any thoughts of goblins, ministries, Voldemort, friends, family, love, loss. In the air, on a broomstick, the only world that could possibly exist was made up of speed, wind, and prey.
When Harry noticed Daphne and Tracey descend, followed by Draco, he paused his chase of the impossibly elusive Nova and made his way over to them, a heavily panting Fleur following him as well. On the ground, he asked the Slytherin girls, "leaving already?"
"Already?" Tracey yelled back. "It's been three hours! My waist, legs, and forearms are burning, and I lost feeling in my rump ages ago."
Harry hadn't realized they spent so much time in the air. It felt like minutes to him. "Oh," was all he said.
"'Oh,' he says," Tracey commented. "I guess time moves differently at warp speed."
"What's warp speed?" Draco asked, and Harry could see Fleur look just as confused.
"It's from one of Tracey's muggle dramas," Daphne answered.
"It's actually my mom's favorite show," Tracey told Draco. "I just watched it with her. It means Ares was going super fast."
"Not fast enough," Harry mentioned, sliding his goggles down to his neck as he scanned the skies for his familiar.
"You must be joking," Fleur orated aghast. The beautiful French figure walked around to Harry's backside, and it was when she ran her fingers through his long dark hair that he realized he lost his hair tie at some point. Fleur's delicate hands slowly gathered his jet black hair and carefully put it in his usual knot as she said, "Any faster and you'll outpace light itself."
Draco bitterly muttered to himself, "He's not that fast."
At Harry's curious look, Daphne, eying Fleur for only the briefest of moments, elaborated, "You're faster than any professional I've ever seen. It was impossible to keep up, much less actually tag Nova. On two occasions, you blasted through the speed of sound. It was like a cannon went off. Your sweater didn't stand a chance." Harry looked down, and sure enough, to his surprise, his wool sweater was torn into several ribbons. "We need to get ready for Hogsmeade now if we want to take the carriages with the rest," Daphne told him.
"Okay," Harry said. "Have fun."
"Our… meeting isn't until later," Daphne pointed out, refusing to call the meeting a date. "We can walk around Hogsmeade for a while before then… if you want."
"That sounds nice, but I need to look into taking that enchantment off Nova," Harry explained. "Dumbldore's dragging his feet, so I thought I'd look at it myself. Plus, it's a real punch to the guts to feel how sad she is."
"Whaaa, she feels sad?" Tracey moaned, moving very close to weeping. Fleur, and even Daphne, share the same sentiment as they searched the skies for the bravely wounded phoenix. "After all she did for us and the school, and now she's sad! That's terrible!"
"Yeah, but I'll figure it out though" Harry agreed.
"Think you can?" Draco asked. "I mean it is Dumbledore."
"It is," Harry agreed. "But he isn't magic, and there's always a way."
"You have to tell us-" Daphne started, but reconsidered her words. "No, we have to help. I know Hermione will want to as well."
"As will I," Fleur stated. "Nova should not 'ave to suffer like zhis."
"With this much brain power, I don't expect Nova to be unhappy for long," Harry proclaimed with a rare smile. "Say hi to Hermione for me."
Tracey whispered to Draco before following Daphne back to the castle. The three watched them go, but only one was noticeably irritated by it. Once they were out of sight, a glum Draco turned to Harry before yelling out, "I don't want to be a third wheel, so I'm leaving." Before Harry could ask what he was on about, Draco threw a finger in Harry's face, yelling out a large, "BUT, you cannot—under any circumstances—let Tracey find out. I don't care what you do—" Draco snuck a look at Fleur, adding, "Or who you do it with, but whatever it is, that information dies with the day. Got it!"
Harry didn't want to accept that Tracey had asked Draco to keep an eye on Fleur and himself, especially after he had just told them he planned on spending time on Nova's shackles. However, Fleur wasn't bothered by it at all. She hugged Harry's arm, pressing her breasts into him as she sweetly told Draco, "All she will ever learn ees 'ow visibly upset I was you refused to leave us alone."
"Yeah," Draco nodded. "That'll work. Okay, later."
Harry tried not to think about how amazingly soft her chest felt against his arm or how her amorous warmth made him hot around his neck and cheeks. He closed his eyes as he exhaled deep calming breaths, unconsciously flexing his arm. When he felt her shift, he opened his eyes to find her gazing at him, not gleefully as he might've expected, but content. Her smile was soft, her eyes gorgeous and at ease. Though as radiant as ever, she gave the impression of comfort, rather than luxurious beauty, and it was the first time his body urged, willed his limbs to move forward, embrace this exquisite anomaly, and kiss her. Within that moment, meeting her plump pink lips to his somehow transcended the physical need and felt more akin to spiritual guidance.
To his surprise, delight, and dread, he felt himself take an unauthorized step forward, bringing half an arm's length between them down to mere inches away from each other. So close, a short lean in would raise either disastrous alarms in his head or the eager appendage between his legs, or both. The rose of her cheeks turned to strawberry, and even her lips reddened, but she never lost that comfortable sensuality that seemed to strike an amenable chord within him.
It was then that he became slightly more aware of what could be, and how much of a risk this was. Harry closed his eyes, and despite doing it in front of her, took a measured and calming breath rather than leaning in those last few inches.
"Why?" he heard Fleur ask, his vision still black. "I've noticed your gaze a number of times, twenty-zhree times to be precise; mostly during morning work outz. I can also literally feel zhe attraction. So, why rezist what we so clearly want?"
'So much for trying to play uninterested,' he reasoned, mentally throwing that plan in the trash. He didn't have much faith in trying to convince Fleur, possibly Daphne and Hermione as well, that he wasn't interested in pursuing a romantic relationship, at least not without saying harsh lies. And they would be lies, too. It's why he had so much more faith in his contingency plan to hopefully retain the status quo. He can claim the truth, and their pride as women would not allow them to enter into such a union.
"Honesty," Harry said, then opened his eyes, looking deeply into hers. They hadn't moved away from each other, so nearly his entire view was a thing of mindful beauty. He answered the curiosity in her eyes. "This should be simple, shouldn't it?" he said with a shallow chuckle, though her attention didn't allow her to smile. "You're beautiful in so many ways, and I'm a guy with eyeballs. The arithmancy doesn't get much simpler than that... except for me, I guess," he added after a humored huff.
Fleur didn't interrupt, instead paying rapt attention. She waited patiently, easily sensing the gravity of the moment with his every word.
"Do you know about the relentless dedication that couples have for one another?" he asked. "That doesn't apply to me. I wish it did. Trust me, I would love to be normal like that, but I know it's not for me, like I know I'd never cheat. So, I either stay single, which I've already accepted, or enter the only other alternative; a polygamous relationship. Typical bloke fantasy I know, but I hope you believe me when I say it's not like that. I just know, regardless of the choices I want to make for myself—and this is a terrible thing to say—you'll never be first in my life. And it's not because you're lacking in any way. No woman can be, hence the third party. You, Daphne, Hermione, Luna, you're all amazing, and you ought to be valued like the treasures you are."
Soft green eyes hardened to that of a killer's at enraging thoughts of a Voldemort and his ilk, currently free to feel happiness; to breathe. "But I have wars to fight, and if I don't fight them, people die. Friends die..."
Harry tried to ignore the visual memories of his cell wall filled with the reeking heads of his loved ones, but he couldn't block out the gag-inducing smell or the sounds of his dried sobs. For the lives he had lost and those still at risk as long as that monster still existed, he couldn't ignore his mission. It was his hope they understood that, but an even greater hope he dare not entertain was a friendship with each of them, despite the dangers he drew. They hadn't run away yet, but he knew it wasn't as bad as it could get. There were still plenty of opportunities to realize how dangerous he was.
After a stretch of silence, Harry understood he couldn't express another honest word to Fleur. Though he felt like it wasn't a good enough explanation, in the end, it was all he could dare say, or risk losing the steady grip he had on his sanity without Nova or Draco around. A sag of his head at the certainty that he had irrevocably changed his friendship with Fleur had his eye line turning down, then away from the view of her ample breast. He could feel his cheeks burn red with blush, and it amazed him that despite the seriousness of the conversation, his dogged hormones were indifferent to anything but sex.
'How did I possibly escape this the first time around?' Harry thought when he felt two soft, warm hands palm the left and right sides of his jaw, tilting him ahead the few remaining inches needed to meet Fleur's luscious lips. It was a gentle kiss, warm and felicitous against his unexpected lips. The tip of her nose sat easily beside the tip of his, but it was colder than her lips, which only highlighted the absolute pleasantness of her soft, plump lips. Her eyes were closed, soft eyelashes seeming even longer, purely feminine. A sharp contrast to his surprised pupils. Harry was stunned. His mind froze by the whole experience, and it wasn't until she stepped away that he realized he didn't want it to end.
"Zhank you," she said with a perfect smile.
Harry didn't know what she meant by her 'thank you,' nor could his highly logical and impressive mind interpret it. Was it a good thank you or a bad thank you? Was she saying goodbye or that they could still be friends? Was the smile in understanding, appreciation, farewell, gratitude, or something else? Harry was utterly confused and certain it read easily on his face as she took a step back. Her smile and gentle countenance were unreadable as she looked at him for a long second before easily turning around and walking back to the castle.
He finally snapped out of it when Nova's volume-increasing, airy whistle came full-stop a few feet above him, oppressing barrels of strong pressurized torrents from her mystically substantial wings. Harry was hurled off his feet in an instant, landing hard several yards away, rolling several times before finally skidding to a stop. He didn't get up right away or even eventually. He lay there even when Nova landed and got comfortable on his chest. Lying a bit sore on the cold dirt with his phoenix sitting comfortably on his chest didn't matter as much as the words Fleur left him with. Round and round in his head he went until Harry finally gave in with a tired groan and yelled, "What do you mean thank you?!"
There was a lot of thought put into how Harry should handle his meet with Dumbledore, VS how he should let his emotions handle the meet. Personally, I would've like him to wreck, but in my mind, that wouldn't really change Dumbledore's mind. It would just be an outburst to sooth his turbulent emotions. SO that was my thinking. I liked what I ended up with and it's going to build from there.
Some people have asked me what camp I plan on putting Dumbledore in. Is he full on Manipulation Central or is he good and misunderstood, or bad and in denial... I'm still fleshing him out. I have a good idea of the Dumbledore in my head, but I'm still forming all this as I write. I just listen to the story, letting it guide me, and try not to shoehorn ideals just because it's what I want.
Good job Draco. Way to be the reluctant backup.
For those who couldn't do Fleur's math, substitute Pages with Inches... a Reading, with F-ing/Dicking, aka Making Love(for you sensitive types)
I've actually used a variation of Harry's explanation to Fleur in real life. When I was even younger and dumber, I would break up with girls by telling them, "I really like you, but if we continue I have to be totally honest with you. I'm a polygamist... and at some point in the future, I'm going to want us to invite a third person in the relationship." Now, the break up move is called, Check. Reason being is because 97% of all girls would never agree to that kind of relationship. I understand. It makes total sense. It's why I used it to break up with girls, cuz then it's her idea to end it, and generally everyone can still have a good night. It's called Check because in the extremely unlikely event that a girl says, "Oh, yeah, that's cool." I text my friend at the end of the night... "Check Mate." and he will understand.
Ladies, if you feel offended, in my defense I am a guy, and I did say younger and dumber :)
Thank you all for reading and taking the time to support this story with kudos and comments. I feel so awesome to be a good source of entertainment for you all. Thanks and have a great one,
-Grae