AN Alright, back with another Fleur chapter, the next one or two have been a little tricky for me to write, im trying something with these dreams. If you don't like the dreams, don't worry, theyre about to go away. If you do like them, don't worry, they're about to get a lot more common before they do go away.


Fleur - Chapter 3

Fleur's first week at Hogwarts went by largely uneventful, barring the first day of classes, of course.

With her Runes textbook secured she retreated to the carriage, and wasn't tempted out by the schedule offerings for the entirety of Tuesday. Her new quarters were lavish by comparison and she had Aimee and Marie spending their free time there almost around the clock. She didn't mind, she spent Tuesday finalizing the design of her warming, waterproof clothes and applied it to her uniforms and theirs.

She attended Professor Snape's Potions class and found it lacking.

The coursework was advanced enough, but Beauxbatons' professor tended more toward an open discussion model that allowed students to more effectively collaborate on best practices. Professor Snape was more interested in personal execution. He put the day's objective on the board and observed as everyone attempted their concoctions independently, using their text as reference. Fleur performed well enough, but after the lesson she felt there was nothing new to be gained in the class that simply studying her book wouldn't achieve.

His class was that same day, but she'd been informed by Luna that Enchanting was a lower-grade course at Hogwarts. It was an odd scheme, but it made sense in a way. Enchanting and Warding were two sides of the same galleon. At Beauxbatons there was no Warding class, but the topic was covered throughout Enchanting, from basic muggle repelling wards in the early years to the Fidelius in later years. She knew Durmstrang had more of a focus on shielding and obscuring magic through the use of rune circles, Hogwarts' division of the two subjects was unique but understandable.

She didn't go to the Enchanting class, of course, because it was beneath her skill level. That was the reason, and no other, but she brought up Luna's homework assignment that night over dinner.

"Oh yeah," the little Ravenclaw said brightly, lighting up when she mentioned it. "He said it was really well done, couldn't have done it better himself, and he gave me ten points!"

"That's great Luna," Fleur said, smiling as the girl took another too-large bite of her chicken and nodded.

"Did you get your books?" she asked with some difficulty around her mouthful of food.

"Do not talk with your mouth full, little chick," Fleur chided, "but yes, I did."

In truth, the book she'd selected in a hurry wasn't the most useful to her. She'd spent the latter half of Monday and most of Tuesday going over it, with Wednesday spent avoiding the need to return it.

"You should come to our next class!" Luna exclaimed, washing down her last bites with a truly awful looking orangish juice. "It'd be loads of fun."

Fleur's smile became a bit wooden but the younger girl didn't notice.

"Perhaps," she said vaguely, "it is a bit low level from what I understand, but I'll think on it."

After the meal she said her goodbyes to Luna in the entrance hall and left for the carriage with her friends.

"It was absolutely horrid," Marie was saying, looking scandalized. Fleur had not been keyed into their conversation so she looked to Aimee for reference.

"It can't have been that bad," Aimee consoled, looking exasperated. They both knew Marie had a flair for dramatics.

"I'm telling you, the whole class was assigned to look after some horrible hybrids that can't have been legal, and the professor was as clueless to their care as we were! He just kept suggesting different foods to feed them, if they didn't like it they'd shoot fire at us!"

Fleur's eyebrows rose, and she was privately thankful she'd never taken Zoology if what Marie said was true.

"Are you going back?" Aimee asked, and Marie shook her head.

"It was just an elective anyway," she sounded somewhat wistful, but as far as Fleur knew she was going to work for her family's tailor shop after school anyway. Hogwarts' Care of Magical Creatures lessons would be at her leisure at most. "What about you Fleur, you took potions today right?"

"Yes," Fleur said with a sigh, conveying as much disappointment as possible in the word. "Much the same, unfortunately. Nothing a review of the textbook couldn't reveal, but Transfiguration was great."

They crossed the lawns, the sun just beginning to set as they made it out of the chilled air and into the comfort of the carriage. As was already tradition, they crossed the sitting room and made straight for the Champions quarters at the end of the hall.

Fleur's room had a large four poster bed draped with Beauxbatons blue hangings, a vanity with a large mirror and chest of drawers, and a small coffee table with couches around it. Her friends took seats around the table and she sat at the vanity as they pulled books from their bags.

"Looking forward to Warding," Aimee said as she poured over their arithmancy textbook. "I've heard good things. The Hogwarts champion was in my Charms class. He said the class is fascinating."

Fleur hummed a low response, largely unnoticed by the other two, and looked their way in the mirror's reflection. It was becoming apparent she could not escape the damnable Professor Potter. As Marie and Aimee started discussing their first weekend plans her eyes fell upon the Ancient Runes textbook beside her.

She chewed on the corner of her lip, frowning at the leather bound tome, lamenting her predicament. She was frustrated with herself, with her own hesitation. She was not a procrastinator, not an avoider, and yet she dragged her feet with this book. She wished he'd just return the others to the library so she could peruse them in peace.

Fleur snapped back to attention a few minutes later when she realized she'd wandered from thinking about textbooks to thinking about teachers. Marie and Aimee had fallen silent, absorbed in their books, and Fleur stood decisively to banish thoughts of Professor Potter's haircut.

"I'm going to the library," she declared hotly, drawing their surprised gazes as she snatched the book off her vanity and marched across the room.

"Fleur what-" she ignored Aimee's question and set off down the hall.

The sitting room was empty, thankfully, sparing her further inquiries as she exited the carriage and stomped across the Hogwarts lawns. The enchantments on her uniform were working well. Even as her breath fogged the air in front of her, the chill was warded off by her magic.

Dinner had drawn to a close in the great hall by the time she crossed the double doors, the corridors empty and quiet. It was not too late, and Madam Maxime had not given them an express curfew, but she disillusioned herself anyway as she began to ascend the stairs.

Up to the second landing, down the east corridor, she marched one of the few paths that she did know around the castle. The classroom was open, but unlike her last visit the door was mostly closed, leaving only a crack to see through. She paused, debating whether to knock or simply let herself in, and she was about to drop her disillusionment when voices reached her from within.

"Is it really necessary, professor?" That was a student, a young boy from the sound of it, and a vaguely familiar one.

"I'm sorry Neville," that was Potter, and Fleur recognized the other voice once named: Hogwarts' second champion. "I know it means a lot to you, but with the tasks before you, you're really going to need to be at full capacity."

A silence fell for a moment and Fleur maintained her hidden state, eyes narrowing. It sounded to her as if she'd stumbled upon the younger Hogwarts competitor getting help from a Professor. Righteous anger welled up inside her, a just sense of vindication. Cheating. Of course they were cheating, what more should she expect from one such as him?

"Okay," came the student's forlorn response. Fleur could imagine the pout on his face but she wasn't concerned with him.

He was a child, certain to be ravaged by the difficulty of the tasks he was set to. She was perhaps dimly aware that he needed assistance in the tournament, but that didn't translate fully into an understanding of Potter's participation.

She was capable of forgiving young Neville's ineptitude and condemning Potter's help simultaneously. For the time being at least.

"Excellent, we'll go this weekend, I'll clear it with Dumbledore and take you myself. Now-"

Fleur sidestepped, peering through the crack in the door under the cover of near invisibility, trying to get a good angle to see them from. She almost leaped from her skin as the grating groan of desks and chairs being pushed across the floor sounded from inside.

She saw him then, now that the center of the room was cleared, he paced to the far end of the class and into her line of sight.

"The last thing I want to cover tonight is the shield charm, the incantation is Protego, watch me-" Fleur could just see his wand make the motions, though the conjured shield was out of sight.

He dropped his wand, and gestured for his unseen pupil to give it a try. Fleur could hear the quiet stutter of the boy as he attempted the spell but her attention was pulled from him quickly. As the Professor sat back on a desk to observe, a trick of the light caught his eyes, and they seemed to glow. Fleur noticed for the first time how green they were, and then she reached up to rub her eyes to clear whatever had gotten in them. When she lowered her hands her heart leaped into her throat to find Potter looking her way.

It was impossible, she was very adept at the disillusionment charm, owing to being the frequent center of unwanted attention. He appeared to be glancing toward the cracked classroom door, just out of the corner of his eye, and then he was back to looking toward the center of the room almost immediately.

"That's enough Neville," he called, and then he shrugged off the desk and walked out of her line of sight. "Give it some practice in your free time, and we'll meet again after the weekend when we can get a better lesson in."

"Yes sir," the boy sounded disappointed in himself, but then Fleur realized he would be exiting the classroom any moment now and she turned and fled down the hall while she still had the chance to do so unheard.

She gave up her night's task of getting a new book, too rattled by the irrational feeling that he'd seen her for a moment. She chose to bury that feeling with indignation. Assisting champions was forbidden. Nevermind that the champion in question was a little boy that surely needed all the help he could get simply to stay alive alongside the others. She had no room for such justifications when it came to this particular teacher.

She had really been hoping to get a new book…

She banished that thought too, and the traitorous sense of disappointment welling in her as she exited the school once more.

She was not disappointed her mission had been interrupted. She was angry, and justifiably so. She repeated this to herself as she entered the carriage with a bang of the door. The sitting room was still vacant, but she made straight for her rooms.

"That was quick," Aimee said, they were both still lounging around her coffee table.

"Yes," Fleur snapped, not fully able to keep her tone in check, and both her friends looked her way at the word. "I'm tired."

She still hadn't gained the reins on her frustration. Aimee cocked an eyebrow at her, Marie frowned, and she had to clench her jaw not to throw more barbed words at them. Instead she simply stepped aside from the door and gestured to it with a sweeping motion. She must have been quite the sight, teeth clenched, nostrils flared, and waving them away, because they both stood quickly.

Aimee looked like she was about to say something, but the look on Fleur's face stopped it, and Fleur was swinging the door shut behind them before her: "Sheesh, what's her problem?" was even fully out.

Alone, and able to feel at least a little bad about how she'd treated her friends, she threw the tome at her bed with less care than she would normally give to a book.

"Sleazy bastard," she muttered under her breath, "thinks he can just get away with cheating?"

She started unfastening her blazer, too worked up to sit and pour over another lesson plan for the night. It wasn't exactly true, what she'd told Aimee, she didn't think sleep would come easily, but she crawled into bed regardless. She just needed to calm down, this much frustration and anger was unbecoming.

It wasn't like the Longbottom boy would pose any real threat, even with a year of private lessons, she was just reacting this way because it was Potter.

But why is that?

The question floated to the surface of her cooling ire as she settled under the blankets, and it renewed the scowl on her face. She turned over to her other side, to face the wall, and punched her pillow into a more fluffed state.

Because he's too smug by half.

She decided, and the answer satisfied her for now.

-o-o-o-

Fleur's heart nearly stopped when she entered the sick ward and found the cot empty.

She whipped around on the spot, searching empty beds and the faces of recovering patients for him. The nurse she'd assaulted after the battle was there, looking much better than she had been after their little incident. The effects of her Allure should wear off within a week, even when used as brutally as she had.

The mousey haired girl was aware enough to at least remember that night, because she flinched when Fleur's eyes fell on her. There was still a vacant quality to her eyes, but she busied herself with a patient as soon as she was aware Fleur's attention was on her.

"Where is 'e?" Fleur asked, marching through bedrows toward her.

The nurse pretended not to notice, or otherwise hoped it would pass, poor girl.

Panic was still simmering in the background, the same low anxiety that had lived in her since her husband's death, but refreshed now by the things she had come to realize in the night.

"Do not ignore me, little-"

"Fleur?"

She turned, recognizing the voice even if it were raspy and tired. Involuntarily, her hackles lowered a bit, and the better part of her worry went too as she laid eyes on his bandaged form entering the room.

The dressings were still white, and though they had to wrap the majority of his head to keep the wound sealed, their cleanliness was an improvement that was hard to overstate.

"What are you doing out of bed?" she snapped, and he came up short, his only visible eye widening.

"Bathroom?"

He had his hands up in front of him, palms out between them, but his demeanor was otherwise casual. She pursed her lips as he sidled around a bed to comically avoid her in his path back to his own cot.

She followed behind, inspecting his back as if it would reveal some grievous new injury she'd somehow missed. Apart from the bandages wrapped around his head he appeared perfectly whole, but the fact did little to alleviate her worry.

"Have you been here all night?" he asked, dropping onto the mattress with a groan of springs.

She sat at the head of the bed, not deigning to answer that particular question, instead she patted the mattress beside her and said: "Lie down."

He just blinked dumbly at her, and she fought a satisfied smirk valiantly to remain austere.

"Lie down 'Arry, you must rest."

He was still confused, he siddled down the bed a bit and started to pivot, but she caught his shoulder before he could move too far. She guided him gently, but firmly, to where he belonged. Relaxed and comfortable, with his bandaged head resting in her lap.

He was quite adorable there, staring up at her with wide bewildered eyes. He looked like a little rabbit, staring up into the sky, flighty panic written across his face.

"Fleur- what-"

"It was not easy," she said over him, quietly in the sick ward, "lifting the curse from the knife. It took considerable time and effort, you will have to make it up to me."

"Okay…" He looked less terrified now, if not even more confused.

"Lucky for me, you have plenty of time to do so now, non?"

-o-o-o-

"You okay, Fleur?"

Fleur blinked, and looked up from her breakfast. Across the table Marie was looking at her in concern, one eyebrow raised.

"Of course," she said quickly, and averted her gaze back down to her untouched breakfast. "I just didn't get much sleep, that's all."

Her friends didn't look convinced, but they didn't press the issue. "Well, wake up girl, it's Warding day!"

Aimee had no way of knowing how very unhelpful that was, but Fleur stuck her spoon into her parfait and took a decisive bite, all but physically shaking off her restless night's dreams. They had been getting worse since arriving at Hogwarts, more frequent, lasting longer. She was not going to let this nuisance deter her though, she had preparations to make for the tournament.

"Yes," she said finally, contemplatively, after a few bites. "It's just before lunch, no?"

Marie nodded, "I've got Divination this morning, I've heard the professor is absolutely mad. Should be fun."

Fleur gave up on her yogurt with a fourth spoonful and pushed herself back from the table.

"Fun is one word for it," she said testily, but her friends didn't pick up on it. She had avoided any mention of the subject thus far, positive or negative, and she wasn't about to change that now. "I think I'll stay in until lunch, I need to prepare for the first task."

"How are you meant to prepare for it when you don't know what it is?" Marie asked, putting on a pouty face, "come to Divination with me."

"No," Fleur laughed, "no, I respect myself too much for that … no offense?"

Marie just rolled her eyes, a small smile indicating she'd taken no offense.

"Your loss then," she said haughtily and stood. "You coming, Aimee?"

Aimee looked between her two friends, uncertain, and Fleur made the decision for her with a hastily delivered: "you go ahead, I'm just going back to my room to read up on counter charms."

Aimee nodded, and followed Marie out after another moment's hesitation. Free of company, Fleur retreated to her room and locked the door. She had her books, but Marie was right, she had no idea what to prepare for. She supposed the point of it all was to test their readiness, their breadth of knowledge, and ability to execute quickly as the situation unfolds. That was all well and good, but how was she meant to spend her time in preparation?

She pulled her advanced charms text from the shelf and dropped on the bed, figuring her hastily made excuse for some alone time was as good as any. Charms had been a staple of her early schooling, she'd loved learning new spells, and while countercharms did provide some added complexity it still felt… mundane.

Her eyes scanned the paragraphs, glossing over diagrams, and the words stayed limp and lifeless on the page. She didn't even realize as her lids got heavier, she was caught in a loop, rereading the same line over and over without comprehension as she drifted off, and she was asleep before her head hit the textbook.

-o-o-o-

"I don't get this!" Harry groaned in frustration, gripping his hair and giving it a tug for comedic effect.

Fleur's lips pursed, containing a smile, but her efforts failed as he dropped his arms to the table and his hair stuck up in all directions making him look quite mad.

"Yes you do," she said, ever the patient instructor, "you're just rushing it."

He gave her an unamused look, and she returned it tenfold with a solitary arched eyebrow.

"It's not possible," he countered, looking back down at the circle drawn on the parchment between them. "This is a test, it can't be done with just a triangle, and the goal was to understand that. That's my answer."

Without uttering a word, without even turning the page around to face her, she reached over and scratched a line of arithmancy along the border of the circle encompassing the runes and single triangle he thought was not enough. She charged the ward with a tap of the wand and then looked up to meet his eye in challenge as she placed her quill over the table and released it. The feather fell a few inches and stopped, hovering there atop an invisible dome.

"That's not fair," Harry defended weakly, "you haven't taught me that yet."

"It is but one of many ways," she said imperiously, gloating in the face of his frustration to spur him back into motivation. "There are four ways to create this barrier with the runes you selected. Though I will admit, none of them will work without delineated arithmancy."

"I knew it!" He said victoriously, but she cut him off before he could truly start his victory lap.

"But! There are countless ways to do it without arithmancy, and plenty of those will work just fine with a triangle and three intrinsic ports, so…" she reached over, and with a swipe of her wand she removed just one of the runes he'd placed at the points the triangle met the circle. "Find a new rune 'ere, and it will work, and that's the only 'elp I will give you."

He sighed, giving her a forlorn look, and he did appear tired.

She just pushed the runes book he was working with closer to him and nodded resolutely. "You're the one that asked to learn."

"What was I thinking?" he muttered under his breath and she just rolled her eyes.

"Come on Potter, it is not that difficult."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered and then started flipping through pages, searching for something to complete her assignment.

As Fleur watched him work she reflected that teaching wasn't so bad, perhaps in another life she would've enjoyed it, if the world hadn't made so many choices for her. As his study continued, her settled back in her chair, she realized she hadn't thought about Bill and his death all day. The pain was not as fresh, the loss further from her heart; she wondered if it had anything to do with the boy across from her. The boy-who-lived and had become a man.

She put those thoughts away though, there was no time to think them, not when those responsible for taking her husband from her were still out there.

-o-o-o-

"Fleur?"

Fleur shot up from the bed, bleary and confused. There was a wet spot on her face, and her textbook-turned-pillow was soggy, the diagram of a wand movement bleeding ever so slightly and obscuring its instruction.

"Just a moment!" she called, still half asleep, and she nearly toppled over when she stood, courtesy of the sheets wrapped around her ankles.

The person on the other end of the door tried the handle and found it locked.

"Everyone said they haven't seen you all morning. Hurry up, class starts soon!" She now recognized the voice of Aimee on the other end, and she hastily crammed her runes books into her bag and crossed to unlock the door.

"Sorry, was just-" studying, is what she'd meant to say, but when the door swung open and Aimee caught sight of her and grinned she knew the jig was up. She reached up self consciously and smoothed at wild bed ridden hair. "Anyway, lets go."

Aimee didn't comment on her morning nap, a mercy she was grateful for, and the two left the empty carriage and hastened across the lawn. The chill of October was quickly giving way to the true cold of November, but her enchanted robes were proving her best work yet in the face of Scottish autumn.

The halls were emptying when they made it up to the second landing, and the bell just started tolling as they found seats. The class was nearly full, most she recognized from the Beauxbatons' chosen table in the great hall, or from the other delegation.

To her surprise she noted that all three true champions were present. A pair of red headed twins sauntered in a minute past, but the professor wasn't even in the room yet, and they didn't look like they'd be concerned if he were. As they found their seats there was a rustling in the office and Fleur could see, from her seat near the back with a view of the spiral stair, a pair of legs descending.

"Sorry i'm late everybody-" he came up short as he took his classroom full to the brim for the first time. Fleur was confident he visibly gulped, but if he was nervous he recovered quickly.

"Welcome visiting students," he said with a genial smile, scanning all of the new faces. Fleur felt like he lingered on hers, but then she put that thought away securely and resolutely. "To kick things off, before we begin the lesson proper, I extend the offer I made to my students on the first day of class."

He gestured to the levitating wand holster Aimee had stopped to ogle at the head of the class. Fleur perked up, her interest piqued.

"I've placed a custom ward around my classroom door. The first person to identify its specific purpose wins this wand holster. If any of you would like to take a look, feel free now."

A few of the visiting Durmstrang students, though not Krum, stood and moved toward the door. As many Beauxbatons followed suit, Fleur joined them at a casual pace.

By the time she cleared the door back into the hall, the collective students had illuminated the work and all stood back to ponder it. The linework was fine, the details miniscule, and it wound and wove across the top of the frame and down each side.

"It appears to contain many redundancies," Luc pointed out, gesturing to two sections that on closer inspection did appear repeated. Fleur also noted that her classmate chose to keep his observation in their native tongue, a trend which the Durmstrang students continued a moment later, muttering to each other.

"It is still a simple occlusion ward," Marie said decisively, "it is overly complex, perhaps to hide the specific subject, but that is all we must do."

A minute of silent thought passed across all parties as they all contemplated. The pattern was certainly intentionally crowded. All down the long narrow stretches of the door frame, triangles intersected, forming and interweaving with all manner of shapes. Fleur looked at the shapes along the diagram, searching for patterns, and noticed something odd.

There were circles, seemingly at random along the arch of the doorway, starting at the bottom to the left, there was one relatively low to the floor. Another above it a short way, but then the next one wasn't until nearly halfway up the door. A fourth all the way up in the corner and a fifth all the way down on the other side near the floor again.

They were the least frequent, and most random, of any of the shapes present. Odd, given the circle's place of power in both magic and warding specifically. There was something else, something about the positioning of them, that still nagged at the back of her mind as well.

She thought on it for a moment, stepping back from the door to take the whole thing in better, it was almost perfect. The perfect sequence of numbers, a concept so strong in numerology that even the muggles had a name for it. The spiral pattern displayed by the placement of circles in the weave of this ward would be perfectly represented if there was another circle just… there.

Buried up in the right corner of the door, under a mess of glowing lines and runes, were a few unlit curves carved into the wood, hinting at the presence of the missing circle. She pulled her wand, aware and relishing the looks the other students gave, especially the Durmstrang one's who looked on untrusting as she extinguished the full work of the ward to bring just that hidden circle to life.

It was a simple one, just a circle with a triangle inside, the three points of the inner shape used to tie it to the rest of the magic and inside the triangle, written free hand in tiny script, were two runes and a word in the conventional alphabet.

The other students looked on, both those inside and outside the class, as she frowned and puzzled over the hidden component of his ward. When Fleur looked down the professor was positively beaming. From his place leaning on the desk near the prize for this silly little game, he grinned full-faced in Fleur's direction as she asked:

"What is a Gnargle, Professor?"


AN As always, massive thanks to my BBs Gamer0890 and Palkey here on FFN, as well as Proc, Red, and Wish from the FP discord server, you guys are the best