"Excuse me?" Harry said. He must have heard wrong.
"I asked: what is your Geass?" Fleur repeated.
Harry was stunned. A dozen questions flew through his head, and just as many answers.
"W-What are you talking about?" He croaked out.
"Do not avoid my question, 'Arry. What does your Geass do?"
He hadn't misheard it, she really knew about his strange power. Harry gathered his thoughts.
"How do you know about it?" Harry said, thinking quickly, trying to buy time. He had to get his wand back as soon as possible.
The girl frowned.
"What is your Geass, 'Arry?!" She said forcefully, and, this time, Harry felt the words leaving his mouth before he could stop them.
"It makes women fall in love with me," he blurted out. His body relaxed as if he had let out a breath he had been holding.
Her eyes went wide.
"Fantastique… zat explains so much. Zose girls, earlier today, zey must be all in love wiz you. Are you dating all of zem?"
"Not all, only a couple," Harry replied. He shook his head; why did he want to answer all her questions? What was going on?
"Truly fantastic." Fleur laughed. "I'm even jealous after 'earing zat! What a fearsome power!"
"Are you saying the Geass is affecting you then?"
If she was falling in love with him, maybe the situation wasn't as bad as he thought.
"The Geass is abzolute," she said. "You cannot escape eet. Knowing about eet will do nozing against eet. I cannot stop myself from falling in love with you anymore zan any of those girls can."
"So you will give me back my wand, right?" Harry said, extending a hand.
"Will I…?" Fleur said. She played with his wand with her fingers. "Which girls today?"
"Hermione and Ginny."
"Ze brunette and ze young one…" Fleur smiled. "I'm prettier zan zem."
Harry wanted to punch himself. He wanted to bite his tongue. Anything to stop himself from talking so much.
"How are you doing this?!"
"Izn't it obvious by now?"
Then he realized. Of course.
"You have one too," he said weakly. "You have a Geass."
"Touché. My Geass forcez everybody to only tell me the truth. You cannot lie to me, 'Arry."
Harry didn't know what to say. He had considered before there might be others like him. There must be, considering the woman he met at the World Cup. If D.D gave him one, surely others would have given it to someone else. He had never really expected to meet them in Hogwarts.
"Why—Why are you telling me this?"
"How much do you know about ze Geass?"
"Nothing," he said, though he wanted to say something else. "Only how it works."
"Don't fite eet," Fleur said, seeing the grimace on his face. "I told you, knowing does not 'elp. If I wasn't being so direct, you'd be telling me all your secrets, zinking you wanted to."
"And why are you being direct with me?"
"Because I want you to be my ally."
"Ally? For what? The Tournament?"
Fleur shook her head. "The Tournament is not important," she said. "Zere is another battle going on, between all of us who possess the Geass. A fight for our lives, 'Arry, down to ze very last."
"...last?"
He remembered that weird dream he had during that Divination class. Was this what it was all about? A fight? A game?
"How did you receive your power?" Fleur asked.
"D.D. gave it to me."
"But why? Why did she choose you?"
"I don't know," he said.
He told Fleur of how he met the girl during summer, and how she left him right after without ever explaining anything.
"I donot know thiz… sorcière," Fleur said, "She must 'ave been desperate to pick a champion out of ze streets."
"What do you mean? And can you give me back my wand now?"
She tossed it to him. He thought of pointing it at her in turn, but the girl holstered her own at her waist. Harry did the same, but stayed alert this time, not quite trusting her yet.
"I zee I'll have to explain everything to you," Fleur said, not unkindly. "The ones who gave us the Geass, zey are powerful witches and wizards, and zey are very, very old. From time to time, zey must conduct a ritual, by which one of zem will… ascend, in a way. But zey are not allowed to fight directly, so zey choose a 'candidate' to do it for zem. Once zis… candidate has eliminated all the others, their 'patron' will receive their prize, and the candidate will be allowed to join their ranks."
"Join them?"
"Yes. Ze winner will receive their power, and live forever."
Harry opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. It was too much to take at once. It was frankly rather unbelievable. The little girl who gave him his Geass was actually an immortal witch? And she chose him to fight and kill for her? It was all too strange to be true. But then, 'strange' could accurately describe most of the events in his life.
"These candidates are uzually handpicked from trusted protegees. You are an exception as far az I'm aware," Fleur finished.
"Who gave you yours?" Harry asked.
"Mémé. She iz too old to be my real grandmother, but she'z the sorcière in my family. She entrusted me with the Geass."
She seemed to inflate as she spoke, and Harry could tell how proud the girl felt. That she had been thrusted in an apparent fight to the death meant little. It was a great honor for her.
"You said you wanted an alliance."
"Yes. I was 'oping you'd 'ave something zat would give us an edge at fighting, but your Geass is very powerful too. If we stick togezzer, zere is a 'igher chance we both survive."
"But you said only one can win. We'll have to fight each other sooner or later."
"We can sink about zat once we're ze only ones left," Fleur said dismissively.
Harry wasn't sure about it. He didn't even know if he really believed her yet, but he couldn't deny her power; try as he might, he wasn't able to voice a single untruth to her. It could only be the effects of her Geass. She was telling the truth at least on that account. Or she had given him some kind of potion or even charmed him, but he couldn't think of a moment when that could have happened.
"It won't stop," Fleur continued, countenance turning serious. "Zomething already happened at the Quidditch World Cup. The others won't stop there."
"...you know about that?"
"My family is supporting me, we 'ave ways of finding zings out. Zat's why I came to England; the Triwizard Tournament will be important for us: ze ozzer candidates will use it as bait. If we're smart we can turn ze table on zem. Zat's anozer reason we should form an alliance: my family and I can protect you—you won't be an easy target anymore."
"Who says I'm an easy target?"
"I could 'ave killed you already if I wanted to."
A shill ran up Harry's spine and he gulped down the spit in his mouth.
"We're at Hogwarts, there's no way you or the rest of your school would be able to stay here if you did anything to me."
"Perhaps not, but you make it too easy by agreeing to meet a stranger after dark outside your castle." She laughed. "I know, I know, you thought we'd be doing somezing quite different out 'ere alone, didn't you? I can' blame you; not many men would be able to resist me."
"Not really humble, are you?"
"Humility eez for insecure people who donot 'ave faith in zemselves."
"I disagree," Harry said, but there was truth in her words. He had come expecting to have a good time with the girl, never imagining what she had revealed to him. In hindsight, he was reckless: the Geass had made him overconfident. "How did you find out about me, anyway?"
"I 'ave my ways."
"Are there others like us here in Hogwarts?"
She almost replied, but hesitated, then remained silent.
The girl was putting up a confident front, but Harry could see the cracks. If what she was saying was really true, she needed this alliance. Fleur might have been able to surprise him, but luck wouldn't be on her side forever, and who knew what other powers the other 'candidates' had.
"How many of us are there?"
"Zere 'as to be seven. Zere is no way to know eef all 'ave been chosen yet."
Seven. Five other people seeking to kill him because of the Geass. What had he gotten himself into this time?
"...okay. Suppose I believe you, and we become allies, what's your plan?"
Fleur crossed her arms in a defensive gesture, and said:
"We will enter ze Tournament togezzer and ambush anyone sinking of picking us by ourselves."
"That's it? You're forgetting I can't put my name in the Goblet of Fire. And won't we put ourselves in more danger if we enter?"
"We're in dangair regardless. My aunt eez a Beauxbatons professor, she knows 'ow to get us into ze Tournament."
They faced each other for a while. Harry thought hard on how she could be deceiving him. He had no proof whatsoever about anything she was saying except that she seemed to know a lot about the Geass. How could he confirm any of it? This was the part where he'd usually run to Hermione for help.
"This… is a lot. Can you give me time to think about it?"
"Ze choosing of ze champions eez in three days, I'll need you to give me an answer by Friday morning, or zere won't be any time to rig ze Goblet."
Harry nodded. "Alright."
"If you don't contact me by zen, you can consider us enemies next time we meet," Fleur said coldly.
"I understand," he said, and turned to leave, to look for the secret passage back to the castle.
"'Arry," Fleur called, and Harry turned to see the girl striding in his direction. She held each side of his face with her glove-clad hands and leaned down, pressing her lips to his. She pulled back quickly before he could recover from his surprise. Her face was red, but she was grinning as she said: "Sink of me when you go back to your leetle girl tonight."
She watched him smugly for a second then spun around and made her way back to the Beauxbatons' carriage. Harry stared for a long time at her swaying behind and shapely bum as she departed.
0000000
Harry didn't go back to Gryffindor Tower immediately, instead he trudged the dark path to the castle's Owlery. Owls were night hunters, but he hoped to find Hedwig there and not out and about searching for her evening meal. He was lucky, for he easily distinguished her snow-white feathers among the rows of shining amber eyes staring down at him.
Harry grabbed the roll of parchment the school provided at the entrance of the short tower, along with the almost-empty bottle of ink and quiver, and scribbled a short letter.
Dear Sirius,
I need to speak to you as soon as possible. It's an emergency. I don't know how close you are, but I hope Hedwig finds you quickly. Please, let me know if there's a way to contact you, because I shouldn't tell it through a letter.
Harry
"Come, girl." He beckoned Hedwig, who dived down from her resting place to land on his arm. He ruffled her feathers in appreciation. "I need you to find Sirius as fast as you can, okay?"
She hooted in understanding and, as if to assure him, she pecked his finger affectionately before flying off into the night. Harry quickly lost sight of her in the darkness and turned to finally return to his dormitory.
Breakfast the next morning found a distracted Harry. Between trips of the fork to his mouth, he kept stealing glances at the Ravenclaw table and the head of silvery hair that sat there, back turned to him. The meeting with Fleur hardly left his mind; the more he thought about her words, the more they made sense and the more they worried him.
"What do you think, Harry?" He heard Rony's voice.
"Yeah, of course," he responded automatically.
Rony clocked her head. "What? I asked who do you think the champions are going to be."
"Oh… Krum, for sure," he said.
"You realize Quidditch skills might not be the relevant metric for the Goblet of Fire, right?" Hermione said from behind her copy of the Daily Prophet.
"Who says it isn't?" Rony said. "Dumbledore only said it chooses the best, he didn't say in what."
Hermione rolled her eyes at Rony.
"What about Beauxbatons?" The redhead asked.
"We only know Fleur," said Harry.
"We hardly know Fleur," Hermione corrected sourly.
"Yeah, that's what I meant," Harry agreed. "Hogwarts… gotta be a seventh year, right? They say Ciddi is pretty good."
"No bloody way," Rony disagreed even more sourly.
The rest of the day passed the same way for him. Harry kept glancing at windows and doors, hoping against hope Hedwig would fly through them at any moment. His suffering stretched until evening, when the white owl answered his prayers and shot through the high window in one of the second floor's corridors as Harry returned from his last class of the day.
She was clearly out of breath and fluttered about as she landed on his shoulder, but proudly presented him the paper wrapped around her leg. He caressed her head and muttered a 'thank you', but he was already opening the letter. It read:
Dear Harry,
I'm still out of the country, so I can't Apparate to the grounds near Hogwarts, but I believe I know a way we can speak face to face. Go to the Gryffindor common room near two in the morning, close the fire, and make sure no one else is present, except for your friends, of course, if you wish them to be there. I hope everything is fine.
Sirius
Harry gave Hedwig the best treat he had in his trunk for her excellent work in such a short time and spent the rest of the day ruminating over what he would say to Sirius, and how he would say it. He went to bed early, rejecting Hermione's invitation to the Head Prefect's room and Ginny's attempts to keep him downstairs with her. He hadn't a mind for it at the moment, he only wanted to sort everything out as quickly as possible.
Long after Dean and Seamus' snores had filled the dormitory was when Harry rose from his bedroom, tip-toeing to his trunk to grab his Invisibility Cloak. The common room below was completely empty like he hoped, with only the dimmed lights of candles hanging high on the walls and the fire of the hearth for illumination. The grandfather clock by the portrait of Godric Gryffindor read fifteen to two o'clock.
Harry sat down, pulling the Invisibility Cloak, and waited with bated breath. How would Sirius contact him? He pondered for a while, until a surge in the cracking of the flames caught his attention. He watched the fire with amazement as the glowing-red piece of coal and ash jumped about, connecting with each other, until they had formed the perfect picture of Sirius's head, sitting in the fire.
Sirius blinked twice and looked around to get his bearings, and opened a huge smile when he saw Harry. He appeared noticeably altered compared to Harry's recollection. At their parting, Sirius had sported a thin, haggard countenance, framed by a profusion of lengthy, tangled black locks. However, his hair was now cropped and well-kept, his face exhibited a healthier plumpness, and he seemed more youthful, closely resembling the sole photograph Harry possessed of him, taken during the Potters' wedding.
"Hi, Sirius," Harry said. He couldn't believe he was finally speaking with the man again. "How are you doing?"
"I'm very fine, Harry, thank you," Sirius said somberly. "Don't mind me. What did you want to tell me? You said it was urgent. Is it about the death eaters? Did someone attack you?"
"No, no," he replied hurriedly, shaking his head. "It's—it's not that. Not exactly."
"What is it, Harry?" Sirius asked, frowning.
Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times. He still didn't know the best way to tell Sirius about the situation he was in. Gathering all his courage, he decided to just let it out, and let Sirius be the judge of his tale.
"Sirius, this summer…" he started, and he told his godfather of the strange girl in black he met in Little Whinging, and his time with Aunt Petunia, then the Wealeys and the World Cup, and Ginny, and Hermione, and finally the meeting with Fleur and all she had told him about the Geass and this fight to the death among all the people who possessed it. Sirius didn't try to interrupt, he didn't laugh or make any noise, only looked on with concern and, if Harry was right, a bit of pity.
Harry finished at last and went silent. He looked on at Sirius with expectation and apprehension. It was a minute before he spoke.
"When did you say the French girl wants an answer?" Sirius said.
"Morning of the day after this one, but probably tomorrow night would be best," Harry said. "Do you—Do you know anything about her family?"
"Delacour… Delacour…" Sirius repeated, tasting the name.. "I'm sorry, it doesn't sound strange, but I can't remember—but I'm not exactly an expert when it comes to foreign wizard families."
"...so, what do you think I should do?"
"You're in a very complicated situation, Harry, I won't lie to you," Sirius said gravely. "I've never heard of this Geass—but that doesn't mean anything; our world is filled with secrets more ancient than we can possibly believe. You've stumbled into this… magic, and you didn't know what you were getting into. That part is not your fault. That's just life. We never really know where the next turn around will take us. It's foolish to pretend to know exactly where you're going.
"But I don't think you can run away now, Harry." Sirius continued. "You told me the attack on the World Cup was done by one of these 'candidates', and if they're also responsible for the Dark Mark showing up there, Harry, then they're no laughing matter. If they're working with Voldemort somehow, or if they're trying to emulate him, we shouldn't ignore them. They will not go away."
Harry nodded slowly.
"The Triwizard Tournament," he said. "Fleur thinks the others are involved."
"She could be right," Sirius said. "If she knows you have this power, it's likely others know as well. This whole thing could be a trap set especially for you. Dumbledore must have set this age-line for a reason, and if there's someone you can be sure it's on your side, Harry, it's Dumbledore."
"Then I should decline, right? Get as far away as possible from the Tournament."
It was Sirius's turn to shake his head, scattering embers and ash all around him.
"No. A trap is only a trap if you aren't aware of it. This girl, this Fleur Delacour, I can't think of a reason why she'd tell you anything if she was behind it all. You were… happily unaware until yesterday, no? You were—"
"An easy target."
"Exactly. I think it's worth giving her the benefit of the doubt for now. Go with her, but keep your wits about you, try to learn more than what she lets you in."
"Alright," Harry said, feeling reassured by his words.
"Regarding Malfoy and his wife, there's something I need to tell you…" Sirius said, and he went on not about the couple, but about Iggor Karkaroff, the Durmstrang Headmaster, and his past as a death eater, his subsequent imprisonment and release, after snitching on his colleagues. "...so you see, Harry, now you have two death eaters with access to Hogwarts—three if you count Malfoy's wife—and you said Mad-Eye Moody is gone. Can you connect the dots?"
"...they're amassing power."
"Yes. From our perspective, it looks like they're controlling the board, doesn't it? Everything is going by their designs. I'd wager you'd find yourself in this Tournament whether you wanted or not. So we need to shatter their expectations. We need to get the jump on them, Harry."
"Okay. What about—What about Professor Dumbledore? Should I go to him?"
"Not yet," Sirius said. "Wait for an opportune moment. Dumbledore is probably in a tight situation now, after losing Mad-Eye. His enemies are rounding up on him. Let them believe Dumbledore is weak too."
Harry nodded. He had been on the brink of despair all day, but Sirius was managing to push the gravest of his fears away.
"So I should ally with Fleur and enter the Triwizard Tournament."
"And watch your back. I'll join you at Hogwarts. They believe I'm somewhere else, so it'll be another surprise for them." The side of Sirius' mouth curled up, and Harry could detect even a hint of excitement there. "We'll catch them at their own wake, Harry."
Harry smiled despite himself. Hope was blossoming in his chest.
"But, what about, you know, the Geass?" Harry said. "Do you think I ought to… you know…"
Sirius's face returned to its serious countenance.
"Harry, I'll tell you I know what it's like being fourteen," Sirius said. "I have a thousand stories I could tell about your father and I getting into every bit of trouble you can imagine. For a long time, we did exactly as we wanted. There weren't any limits for us. We were punished for it, most of the time. We regretted it too, sometimes. But… I wouldn't trade the life I lived then for anything. I can't tell you what you're doing is right; I won't tell you it's wrong either. You'll have to decide for yourself if it's worth it."
Harry nodded once more, happy Sirius seemed to at least understand him. Being without the Geass would be torture for him. Worse still: having it and not using it.
"Well, I need to go, Harry," Sirius said, his head turning in the fire to look back at something behind him, wherever he was. "I broke into a wizarding house to use the fire; I think I hear them in the front lawn now. Be careful and remember what I said. Don't fall for anything stupid and obvious. I'll be with you in Hogwarts as soon as I can. Bye."
"Bye, Sirius," Harry said, and he scarcely had time to utter the words before Sirius's head collapsed into a pile of coal and embers, the floo connection broken.
He leaned back, basking into the warmth of the hearth, and thought back on the conversation, going over Sirius's plan and advice. So absorbed he was, he only heard the newcomer's footsteps when she was nearly above him.
"Harry?" He heard, and, startled, looked up to see Rony, dressed in her pajamas and rubbing sleepy eyes.
"Hey, Rony, what are you doing out of the bed?"
"I heard voices coming from the common room…" She said, voice rough with sleep. "Wait, what are you doing here?"
"I was… talking to Sirius."
"Sirius?" She repeated, growing alert. She sat down next to him in front of the fire. "How?"
Harry pointed to the fireplace. "He had his head there."
"Ah, the floo," she said. "And how is he?"
"He's fine, he's hiding well, and…" Harry said, but trailed off as he looked at Rony's face. She listened to him so attentively, so trustingly, he suddenly felt ashamed of lying to her. "Rony, I… have to tell you something."
"Okay," she said, still with those big, beautiful eyes that were the color of the sky on a sunny morning.
He stared at them for a long time, searching for the words to finally tell her the truth of what was going on. But he couldn't say them; they wouldn't come out. It wasn't like with Sirius at all. What would she say? He felt something closing around his hand, and he peered down to see Rony had grasped it with her own.
"It's okay, Harry, I know you're worried about him," she said, voice infinitely gentle. "But it's gonna be fine, I promise."
Harry didn't reply to that, refusing to tell her more lies at the moment. She of all people didn't deserve it. Rony had been there for him since the start, since the first day in the Hogwarts Express. She was the rock in the tumultuous river of his life, just as much as Hermione. No, even more so.
He leaned down and rested his head on her shoulder, saying no more.
000000000
Harry found Hedwig again the next day after breakfast, apologizing for sending her in another delivery so soon, but assuring her it would be a short one this time. He got Fleur's reply pretty quickly: she invited him to dine together that night with her and her aunt in the Beauxbatons' carriage, wherein she would share what they knew with him, and they could discuss the plan going forward. Harry decided he would follow Sirius's advice and trust the girl for now, even if walking into the Beauxbatons' carriage alone didn't feel completely safe to him.
The day passed in a daze of anxiety for him. Rony and Hermione remarked how distracted he seemed during classes, and Ginny stormed off from the common room when Harry failed to get her implication she would like him to follow her outside. However, the night arrived quickly enough, and found Harry walking down the muddy path toward the carriage stationed a ways after Hagrid's Hut.
Up close, the thing was enormous. It was made of polished, pearlescent white wood that seemed to shimmer as it caught the light; it was elegantly curved and exquisitely carved, resembling a grand, elongated seashell with its sinuous lines and delicate spirals. The Pegasuses, the giant, white winged-horses stood proudly in front of it, ignoring everything around them. Harry couldn't reach the joints of their legs, and they made no sign of having noticed him as he came closer.
He climbed the few metallic steps leading up to the door, feeling somewhat out of place as he grabbed the door-knocker and beat it against the wood. Half a minute later, the door creaked open.
A wizard in black formal robes appeared before him. With sleek black hair and a mustache that curled at the ends, he was the image of a butler.
"Oui?" The wizard said.
"Hi, I'm, er, Fleur Delacour invited me," Harry said. The wizard, or butler, stared back as if he had not understood a word, and Harry began scraping his mind for any French words he knew.
"Pleaze wait here, mister," said the man before Harry could recall anything and closed the door.
Harry waited there, rocking on his heels, for what it felt like five minutes before the door opened again. It was not the wizard-butler who greeted him this time, but a tall, blonde witch. She was just similar enough to Fleur for Harry to mistake her for the girl for a second, but on a second glance she was obviously older and taller, and she wore deep green robes instead of the baby-blue Beauxbatons uniform. She was just as beautiful though, and Harry thought he knew who she was.
"Good evening, Mr Potter, please come inside," said the witch, stepping away from the passway. She had a very slight accent when compared to Fleur.
"Good evening," said Harry, crossing the door into a grand, circular entrance hall. The walls were of the same pearly white color as the outside, and various lamps circled the room, projecting light to a big crystal chandelier hanging from the oval ceiling. From the entrance alone, Harry deduced the carriage was like the Weasley's tend back in the World Cup: magically altered to be bigger on the inside. "Are you Fleur's aunt?"
"I am. Annabelle Delacour, Magic Fine-Arts professor. It's a great pleasure to meet you," she said, extending a hand.
"Likewise."
"Thank you for accepting Fleur's invitation, it means a lot for us to have you here," Professor Delacour said.
"It's no problem," Harry said. "Do you know about…?"
"Yes, but would you mind if we wait until we're inside Fleur's apartment to discuss these matters?"
Her voice was soft, much softer than Fleur's, and the politeness felt strange to Harry. From behind her thin, silver glasses, the woman didn't look at him with a teacher's eyes. Her gaze reminds him instead of the opposite, as if he were the teacher. He saw it often in Hermione's eyes during classes.
"No, it's okay," he said, feeling a bit uncomfortable under her gaze.
"Thank you. Please, come with me," she said, turning and walking to a smaller door close to the great double-doors that Harry imagined led to the main hall of the carriage. He followed her.
They crossed it to a long, thin corridor. A few spaced windows let him look at the outside fields, though he didn't remember seeing them outside.
Professor Delacour fell into step with him.
"This corridor leads directly to Fleur's private quarters," she said amicably.
"She has a private corridor?!"
The woman laughed prettily, which made him want to laugh with her, but he held himself.
"Not always. She ordered it made for your convenience. Fleur expects you'll be visiting often after tonight."
She ordered? What kind of power did Fleur have in Beauxbatons to request a private entrance? And did every student have their own apartment? It didn't seem very likely. Was it because of the Geass?
"Ah, alright," he said, deciding to hold on to his questions for now. "Maybe, we'll see. But I was kind of looking forward to seeing the rest of the carriage."
"It'd be my pleasure to give you a tour later if you desire," the professor offered.
"Okay," Harry said, not knowing exactly how to act near her attentiveness.
Quickly, they arrived at the end of the corridor, and the woman stepped forth to open the door for them.
Fleur's living room wasn't enormous, but it was tastefully decorated with a couple of couches and carpets that matched a wine-colored wallpaper. A few jars with flowers were scattered by corners of the room, and a magical fireplace rested unlit. The professor moved through, in the direction of a door-less archway at the back, and Harry went with her.
Beyond was a small, cozy dining-room with a round table and a few chairs. There were a few appetizers served, and a bottle of wine was opened. Two people were already there: Fleur and Madame Maxime, the Beauxbatons Headmaster. The older woman made for an almost funny sight, so big she was compared to everything else around her.
"Fleur, Mr Harry Potter has arrived," the professor said, bowing low.
"Zank you, Aunt," Fleur said, rising up. She wasn't wearing her uniform this time, but a white blouse decorated with frills and a black skirt that went down to her knees. "Good evening, 'Arry."
"You didn't say there was going to be someone else here besides your aunt."
"Ze madam asked to join when I told 'er we would be meeting tonight," Fleur said, glancing briefly at Madame Maxime.
"Good evening, Monsieur Potter. I 'ope you understand why I requested to be 'ere, you see, zis is a matter regarding ze school after all."
Harry shook his head. "No, I don't understand." He turned to Fleur. "Did you tell her? What does the school have to do with it?"
"Everything, 'Arry," Fleur said, sitting down again. "I 'ave told you we're 'ere because of ze other candidates, ze school will support me. Sit down."
Harry pulled a chair for himself. Fleur's aunt reached for the bottle of wine and poured a little for him before sitting down at his side.
"You mean the school will help you… beat the others?" Harry said.
"Yes. Is it not ze same for 'Ogwarts and you?" Fleur said.
"No." Harry couldn't stop himself from answering.
"Doesn't Dumblydoor know you 'ave ze Geass?" Madam Maxime said, but Harry didn't feel compelled to answer her so he remained silent. "Beauxbatons 'as an interest in Fleur's victory, Mr. Potter. We will do everything in our power to see 'er succeed."
"My family funds ze school with a lot of money," Fleur said bluntly. Her aunt cleared her throat.
Madam Maxime watched the girl with narrowed eyes. "And we are very grateful, but it is also our desire to see France come up ahead once more."
"Sorry, I'm not sure I'm following," Harry interjected. "Come up ahead? Where? The Tournament?"
"The next sorcière, 'Arry," Fleur said. "Remember what I told you."
"There is a very powerful witch in our family, Mr Potter," Annabelle Delacour said, seeing the puzzled expression hadn't left his face. "She once held the Geass like you and Fleur."
"If I win, zen my family will 'ave two of zem," Fleur said.
A picture was beginning to form in Harry's head. It was about power. Of course it was. Fleur's family was rich and important, and from the sound of it, it was greatly due to this powerful witch. Fleur herself must be very important to them.
"And you want an alliance to boost your chances," Harry said.
"You could say that," Fleur said. The dinner magically arrived on the table, and Harry realized he hadn't touched anything yet. He took a sip of the wine, surprised at how good it tasted. Fleur spoke again: "We should tell 'Arry our plan for the Tournament."
"Wait—" Harry said, putting the glass down. "I want to know something first."
"What is it?"
"What is the Geass?"
"Magic," said Fleur.
"...that's it?"
"What else do you want it to be?"
"I thought it would be something special."
"Fleur is oversimplifying," Fleur's aunt said. "The Geass is magic, but a different kind from the spells we practice or potions we brew. The easiest way we can describe it is as a contract. While the contract is active, the magic of the Geass will be available to you. It also differs for each holder."
"And it's powerful. No one can resist the Geass," Fleur said.
"May I ask you what's your Geass, Mr Potter?" Madam Maxime said. She and Fleur's aunt stared at him with curiosity. Fleur hadn't told them.
"...it makes women fall in love with me."
Their eyes widened, and Madam Maxime covered her mouth in surprise.
Fleur laughed.
"Impressive, isn't it?" She said, "Madam, what do you feel when you look at 'Arry?"
The older woman closed her eyes. Her handsome features pressed together in concentration.
"Fleur, please…" Annabelle Delacour pleaded. Fleur held up a hand.
"...I feel a heat in my groin," Madam Maxime finally admitted.
"What about you, Aunt?"
"I feel the same, Fleur," the professor said, not looking at Harry. "Could you stop, please?"
"Alright, fine." She turned to Harry. "See, 'Arry? That's really the power of the Geass."
"I get it." To the other women, he said: "Sorry, I can't stop it."
"There's no problem, Mr Potter," Annabelle Delacour said.
"You don't need to apologize, young man," Madam Maxime said. "Unlike others."
Fleur ignored her.
"Our plan is zat you and I enter togezzer in ze Tournament," Fleur said. "Our enemies won't expect us to cooperate."
"And how can I enter? There's the age line," Harry said. "And how will we make sure we're selected? Dumbledore said the Goblet is impartial."
"I'm the best in Beauxbatons, 'Arry, it's natural I'm the champion," Fleur said.
"I can 'elp make sure she's selected," said Madam Maxime.
"And what about me?" said Harry.
"I have a solution for that," professor Delacour said. "I've researched the creation of the Goblet of Fire. Apparently, it doesn't know what schools are participating in the Triwizard Tournament, only how many there are. Traditionally, there are only three schools, but nothing stops the organizers from adding another one. I can enroll you for another school, Harry. Being the only student for that school, the Goblet will have to select you."
"But then there will be two Hogwarts champions," said Harry.
"That is true."
"Won't they just disqualify me then?"
"I will support your participation," Madam Maxime said. "Dumblydoor and your Ministry will be delighted to 'ave two champions, I'm sure."
"That won't seem fair," Harry said. "Won't Durmstrang demand a second champion too?"
"Doesn't matter if zey do," Fleur said. "Beauxbatons would get a second one too, and we'd still be in advantage."
Harry nodded slowly. That part of their plans at least seemed to be completely thought out.
"And do we have any idea who we're up against?"
"We're still looking into it," Annabelle Delacour said. "There is a lot of suspicious activity in your Ministry right now."
"Malfoy," Harry said bitterly.
"Yes, we're observing Lucius Malfoy and his family."
"What about Voldemort?" Harry said.
"Your ministry seems to believe he is dead."
"He isn't," Harry said seriously.
"Why do you say that?"
"I've met him. Here in Hogwarts. I know he's still alive."
The professor tapped her fingers on the table. "We will keep our ears open for anything related to him."
Voldemort was still out there, he knew. If the Delacours could become a real ally against the dark wizard, then all the more reason to work with them.
"What do you say then, 'Arry? Will we be working together?" Fleur said, reclining back on her chair. The blouse outlined her bountiful chest in that position.
"Yes, I think so," he said. Fleur clasped her hand, and she and her aunt smiled.
"Thank you, Mr Potter," said Annabelle.
"You made the right decision," said Fleur. "Maman will be happy."
"Your mother?"
"Yes, she's 'elping us from France. Now zat we're partners, she'll want to meet you."
Perhaps Sirius was right in telling him to trust them, for the moment. Unlike Harry himself, Fleur definitely wasn't in this alone. Until Sirius arrived, and Harry found a way to tell his friends about the Geass, and maybe even Dumbledore, he could rely on her.
"You said your grandma gave you the Geass," Harry said. "Can I speak to her?"
"I don't know. She'd never leave our 'ome."
"If you wish, you can visit our house in France," Fleur's aunt interjected. "The madam could arrange an international portkey for you."
"It shouldn't be a problem. Your Minister is being generous with zem for the Tournament," Madam Maxime said.
The two blondes watched him with expectant eyes, while the headmaster made an effort to avert her gaze.
"Maybe later," he said.
Regardless of how much he was willing to trust them now, traveling to another country with people he barely knew couldn't be safe.
They finished their dinner after that. Harry had to admit the food was very good, despite looking as strange as the French plates had looked at the opening of the Tournament' feast. He had to get Hermione to recommend more of the French food they were serving daily in Hogwarts now. When they're done, the dishes disappeared from the table, and Harry followed the women back into the living room.
"I'll be happy to escort you back to the castle, Mr Potter," Annabelle Delacour said.
"Thank—" Harry started.
"'Arry, stay with me for a time," Fleur said, touching his arm. "We should get to know each other better."
Harry glanced briefly at the other women, the adults in the room, expecting them to protest, but they kept level expressions, waiting for his response.
"I agree," Harry said, feeling he was being strung along somewhat, but for no reason he'd pass being alone with Fleur. There were things he would like to ask her as another owner of the Geass.
"Very well. Mr Potter, I only ask that you don't extend your stay beyond Hogwarts' curfew hours," Fleur's aunt said, bowing low again before making for the exit. Madam Maxime offered a short bow and followed her.
As soon as they were alone, Fleur started to laugh.
"What's funny?" Harry asked.
Fleur threw herself down in the loveseat.
"Zey are sooo jealous," she said, face red from laughter. "Zey want to fuck you so badly. Aunt would probably try to take you to her bedroom as soon as you'd left the room."
"...really?"
"...no, but she'd want to."
Harry sat down next to her.
"That's just the Geass though," Harry said.
"That's ze best part! You can make any woman wet just by being near you!"
"Even you? Are you wet?" Harry asked, feeling the heat rush to his cheeks.
"'Arry, I'm drenched," Fleur said, not a hint of shame in her words. "Zis is the second time you've ruined my panties."
Harry gulped, embarrassed by her honesty.
"... And you're not angry I'm making you feel this way? It's not natural, it's all the Geass."
"Zo what? Ze feeling is real, it's not a lame love potion," Fleur said. "I'm already starting to care for you, and it doesn't make me afraid. You're thinking your Geass is a curse, aren't you? It's a gift, Harry. Do you get upset when I ask you a question you 'ave to answer?"
"Yeah, of course I do," Harry blurted out, more forcefully than he intended, but he realized it was probably the effect of her Geass forcing to be sincere.
Fleur leaned forward and caught his hand.
"Don't be, it just means we can trust each other. There will be no lies between us. Never."
"You can lie to me though."
"I never lie, Harry. I hate lies. Zere will never be another Fleur hidden inside me; who you meet is who I am."
Harry was taken aback with the strength of her gaze then, the conviction in her words.
"Then how did you know I have the Geass? What gave me away?"
"Nothing. Someone told me."
"Who?"
"I can't tell you—but only because I promised!" She added in a hurry. "A secret, but not a lie."
"And who told you, are they a friend?"
"Yes, you don't 'ave to worry."
Harry nodded. It would be useless trying to pressure her further. He glanced at their joined hands, and Fleur squeezed his.
"Why did your aunt and your headmaster do that?" Harry asked.
"Do what?"
"Bow to you."
Fleur reclined back, crossed her legs under her body, and removed her shoes with her feet. She still held his hand.
"I'm 'igher than zem in our coven now. I'm a candidate, so zey 'ave to show me respect. Zey 'ave to show you respect too."
"Coven?" Harry asked, creasing his brow.
"... you Englishmen don't 'ave covens anymore, do you?" Fleur said. "They're stronger on the continent. We're a… what's the word… guild, to 'elp witches like us. My grandma founded it centuries ago when she ascended, and Maman is the leader now."
Guilds… something else he didn't know about the wizard world. He'd need to ask Hermione about it when he saw her again.
"And you will be the next?"
"If I ascend, yes, but I won't have Maman step down, she'd lose face in her job."
"And what's her job?"
"She's a senator."
"...your mother is a senator?" Harry said disbelievingly.
Fleur grinned. "For almost ten years. Are you 'appy we're allies now?"
"I think so," Harry said, chuckling awkwardly.
Fleur pulled his hand up and kissed its back. "We're gonna be fine," she said.
Harry stared into her blue, confident eyes. Merlin, she was so beautiful. How was that possible? He wasn't still quite comfortable in her presence.
"Tell me, Harry," Fleur spoke up again. "What 'ave you done with your Geass so far? You're dating two of your friends, but who else 'ave you been with?"
"Just two others," he said.
"You've only been with four girls despite making every woman fall in love with you?"
"Are you disappointed?"
"Boys in Beauxbatons go through that many in a weekend."
"I'm not like that."
Fleur smirked at him. "Don't kid yourself," she said. "You're afraid of your power, that's all zere is to it."
Harry shrugged.
"Who were zey? The other girls you slept with."
Harry felt the compulsion to answer again. "Angelina. She's a Chaser in our house's Quidditch team. And… my aunt."
Fleur's eyebrows shot into her forehead.
"Your aunt?!"
"She was the first," Harry said. Aunt Petunia was his secret, and it felt strange to admit her to someone else. "I didn't think the Geass would make her want to, you know, sleep with me."
"My goodness, your aunt…"
"I know."
"No, I'm not judging you. Ze first time I used my Geass, I brought Maman to tears. My sister, Gabrielle, didn't speak with me for ze longest time."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"It was necessary, and zey've forgiven me. I'm sure your aunt doesn't regret being with you."
"You can't know that," Harry said.
"I'm choosing to believe that," Fleur said in a final tone. "Alright then, 'Arry, so four including your friends. Which one was your favorite?"
"Don't have one. It's different with all of them."
"Who was the redhead who talked to me? You said 'er name is… Ginny?"
"She's my best friend's sister and a year below us."
"She seems to zink you're exclusive."
"We sorta are. We're supposed to be."
"But you're also… what's the word again… shagging your other friend, I believe she's called 'Ermione?" Fleur had some difficulty pronouncing her name.
"Yes."
"She's sexy."
Harry was the one surprised this time. "Do you like girls too?"
"I donot mind them."
"So what about you then? Have you had someone or dated anyone before?" Harry asked. A part of him wished for a negative response. Imagine if such a girl was a virgin.
"Twice, but zey bored me," she replied. Harry pushed the disappointment down. "I'm hoping you won't do the same."
"Do you want us to date?"
"As far as I'm concerned, we already are," said Fleur with confidence.
"Wait, wait," Harry said, pulling back his hand from hers. "When did I agree to that?"
Fleur wasn't fazed, she threw him a smug smile. "You wouldn't be 'ere if you didn't want zat."
"Why not? I didn't know anything about the Geass. Maybe I really wanted an ally."
The girl rolled her eyes. "You can't play games with me, Harry—do want to fuck me?"
"Yes," he was forced to reply. He clenched his teeth.
"Do you want me to be your girl?"
"...yes."
He closed his eyes. It really was pointless to resist.
"Zere, we both know what each other wants. Isn't that much easier?"
Harry heard a shuffle and felt movement on the loveseat. A weight set on his legs. When he opened his eyes, he saw Fleur had laid down, resting her feet on his lap.
"And what do you want?" He asked.
"To win. And you."
Simple desires. At least one of them was very easy to achieve for her.
"Don't worry, I won't stop you from using your Geass," she continued. "You can continue fucking your leetle girls or any sluts that want to jump on your cock."
"Won't you be jealous?"
"Dying of it," said Fleur. "But it's alright. Feeling bad can feel good once in a while. What do you zink of my aunt and Madam Maxime? Do you want to fuck zem?"
She wasn't making any sense, but Harry liked where she was going. If she liked honesty so much, he'd give it to her.
"Yeah. I bet they moan like whores."
"Yes, scarlet women, both of zem…" she said, closing her eyes. Harry wondered if she was imagining some fantasy in her head. "The 'eadmaster 'asn't been fucked in years, you know? I asked her. She's dying for a cock in her pussy."
Fleur started to move her feet on his lap. One of them slid over his crotch, caressing the hardness under his pants. The other crept up his body, drifting over the muscles of his belly and chest. Harry watched their pale perfection: small toes, nails painted red, wringing in a way that was somehow sexy.
"I'll make it 'appen for you…" her foot reached his head, and the toes played with his chin. Her skirt slid down as she raised her leg, revealing smooth, white thighs. "...I'll take you to 'er bedroom so you can 'ave your way with 'er. I'll watch…"
Her toes touched his lips, probing for entrance. He took them in and licked the skin gently. She shuddered and arched her back; her other foot pressed down his erection. When Harry looked back at her, she was watching him with lust-filled eyes. The expression looked almost wrong on her angelic features.
Last year, he was fantasizing about Cho Chang, masturbating in the showers while thinking of her naked body. This term, everything had already changed so much. Ginny, Hermione, Angelina. He never dreamed of touching them. And a girl like Fleur… he would have come in his pants already if he was any less experienced. She was right, the Geass was a gift.
"Lick me, 'Arry…"
He slid his tongue to her sole, running it over the wrinkles, then down to the ankle. Fleur was breathing heavily, enjoying the treatment. The foot on his crotch rose to his face as well, demanding attention. Harry moved to that one, repeating the process. She started to rub the free one on his face, skewing his glasses.
She giggled, and Harry stopped to fix them.
"Zat's enough… of my feet," she said, retracting her legs. She pressed together, knee to knee, and the skirt pooled at her waist. If he tilted his head, he'd be able to see her crotch.
But he didn't have to. Fleur spread her legs for him, exposing the white patch at their center. Her underwear was surprisingly tame: unadorned and the right size to cover everything up to her waist. She hadn't been lying though: she was completely drenched. There was a transparent spot on her underwear through which he could her engorged slit.
"Take zem off," Fleur said in a husky voice, face red.
Harry leaned forward. He held her knees for support before sliding his hands down her thighs. They were just the right amount of muscular and soft; toned but plumb enough to feel good in his grasp, and skin as smooth as a baby's bum. He reached her knickers and grabbed the fabric at her waist. He pulled it down slowly, revealing inch by inch of the alabaster skin underneath. She raised her hips, helping him as he removed them. A thin string of clear liquid connected the piece of cloth to her reddened slit.
He took her panties off, his sight glued to the pussy before him. She was just like Ginny: a line crossing the middle of her crotch, but with fatter flesh around it. Silver hair flowed from the top of her pussy like a crown, spreading over the flesh as branches from a tree.
"Kiss me, 'Arry…"
Harry understood what she wanted. Funnily, he had never done it before. His partners had never asked, and he never offered, preferring their lips on his cock instead. Still, he couldn't deny the sight didn't look alluring to him, that it didn't fill his mouth with water.
Willing to give it a try, he leaned down. He began by kissing the inner side of her thighs, diving deeper inch by inch, until he reached the junction of her legs and finally her slit. The musky smell of arousal filled his nostrils, mixed with a hint of sweat. Harry almost chuckled; at the back of his mind he expected her to smell like roses given how perfect she seemed to be. But no—just the smell of a woman.
Her slit was moist, invitingly so. Harry came closer, tentatively pecking the flesh around it. Finally, he touched it with his tongue, making the girl suck in a breath. He did it again, running it over the extension of the gash. Fleur moaned aloud and said something in French he didn't understand. He repeated the motions, licking the slit over and over. He felt her hand on his head, fingers through his locks, pushing him down, pressing him against her pussy.
"Oui… ah…ah… 'igher, 'Arry… ah… yes, right zere…"
Fleur moaned and guided him, directing his mouth to the upper side of her pussy. His nose rasped against her silvery pubic-hair, smelled its pubic-like smell. Fleur breathed faster as he licked, and soon she began to tremble under him.
"'Arry, I'm going to…!"
And she did. Her legs pressed against his head, and she pushed him down with even more strength. Her pussy flooded with juices, overflowing into his mouth. Harry lapped at it, cleaning her of her own orgasm, until she calmed down and eased the grasp on his hair.
Harry pulled back and his mouth on the sleeve of the robe. Fleur had her eyes closed, a satisfied expression on her beautiful features.
"Was it good?" Harry asked, more shyly than he intended. Fleur smiled to the ceiling.
"Perfect… I've never cum quickly before, 'Arry…"
Pride swelled in his chest. Surely not many people could boast of bringing an angel like the girl to orgasm so quickly. His cock twitched in his pants; he had been hard for a long time now. He reached for his breaches.
A loud chime echoed through the room then, produced by the clock by the opposite wall. Both Fleur and Harry turned their heads to see the hour had reached curfew time. Harry bit the side of his mouth; he hadn't brought his Invisibility Cloak—he might have trouble returning to Gryffindor Tower if he didn't return soon.
"I… I have to go," he said sadly.
"Can't you stay the night?"
"The others will notice."
"Your girlfriends?"
"...yes."
"Oh well," Fleur said ruefully, closing her legs and removing her inviting pussy from his sight. She sat up on the loveseat. "We'll 'ave to continue another time zen."
"...yeah."
Harry went to his feet, and the girl followed him. He ran his hands through his robes, trying to straighten them as best he could.
"We'll celebrate our alliance properly later, after the choosing of the champions," she said, walking up the door.
"Alright. Thanks for the… dinner."
Hating to leave but having no alternative at the moment, he made for the exit as she held the door open for him. Before he crossed to the outside, she yanked him by his collar, crashing her lips into his. She kissed him roughly, pushing her tongue deep in mouth.
"No, zank you, 'Arry. I'll make sure you'll never regret trusting Fleur Delacour. I promise you."
00000000
From behind dark windows in the upper floors of Hogwarts, two shadows watched Harry leave the Beauxbatons carriage and trudge along the path back to the castle.
"That's the Potter boy?" The first figure said.
"The same," said the second.
"He is handsome."
"He looks a lot like his father. I'm told Snape hates the boy."
"Is that any surprise? Snape was always such a pathetic thing," the first shadow said, then made a noise with her mouth, kissing her teeth. "I never knew what the Dark Lord saw in him."
There was a moment of silence before the second shadow spoke again.
"... I didn't expect Potter to make friends with the French, or anyone else this year. It's my understanding he's the reserved kind."
"Your source is clearly biased. One minute speaking with her, I can tell she has her own designs for him."
"Diana knows where her loyalty lies."
"You're over-complicating things, Cissa. You've learned this habit from that husband of yours. I can dispose of Potter any moment and make it seem the mooost natural accident. Hogwarts is oh so dangerous after all…"
"No. I've told you Lucius doesn't want him dead anymore. He's confident Diana can bring him to our side. Today, he's far more valuable alive than dead."
The first shadow hissed. "We should kill him just for what he's done!"
"We've talked about this. The past is the past," said Narcissa Malfoy. "Besides, you're underestimating Dumbledore. He's not completely powerless yet. If he suspects I've brought you into the castle, it's the end for us all."
"...you've grown soft. All of you."
"Merely cautious. We don't want to be dragged into an open war like last time. Getting rid of Mad-Eye Moody was already risky. We bide our time, we have the advantage now."
"... Does Dumbledore have a new professor already?"
"Yes, he'll introduce her tomorrow at the choosing."
"It should have been me."
"We couldn't force a name forward."
The shadow hummed lowly.
"We need patience now, Bella. Soon, Lucius will have the Ministry, but there's only so much Diana can do," Narcissa said. "I'll retire for the night. Remember to stay out of sight."
Narcissa Malfoy turned and walked away into the shadows of the corridor. Her footsteps echoed until she was out of sight. Bella—Bellatrix Lestrange—kept watching the Boy Who Lived, until he entered the castle and disappeared from her vision.
"Of course I will, dear sister."
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