𝕸𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖈𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖊

Act I - The Trials of Summer

Chapter 35 - Another begins.

Fleur sat wrapped in a blanket on her sofa, staring at the crackling flames, trying not to break down and cry like a child. She took a deep breath, trying for what she was sure was the fiftieth time to calm herself down. She was sure that if she had at least an idea of what was going to happen next, she might feel a little better, even if it was something horrible.

The last week had been the absolute worst in her life. Ever since that confrontation with William, she hadn't seen a hair of Harry Potter. She knew that he could apparate to her place if he wanted. But he hadn't. As much as a cold part of her kept pointing out that Harry now hated her, and would not come looking for her, she didn't wish to believe that. He was Harry Potter. Things always kept happening to him. Maybe there was another mess? Another party? Another new family showing up or another Death Eater attack? There was absolutely nothing that could be classified as 'too crazy to happen to Harry Potter.'

There had been moments when she had considered apparating to Grimmauld Place. She knew the physical location, as well as the coordinates and the Floo address. But every single time she was pushed to do just that, the dark fear gripping her heart would rise up and flare its hood. She knew that she couldn't live with the fact that Harry had closed off Grimmauld Place from her.

That he had excluded her from the wards.

From his life.

And the worst part? It was all her fault. She had been stupid enough to stay silent while William had uttered those vile accusations against her. Sure, they were all true, but only for things she had done in the past. Her relationship with Harry was… different. Inexplicable. The Allure in her was both fascinated and repulsed by Harry. It wanted to claim him more than anything else in the world, and at the same time, it thought of him as a companion, something that would always be above its ability to dominate.

An equal.

But look what she had done? She had run away. She hadn't even attempted to explain things. Hell, she hadn't even looked at him. She had just run.

Like a failure.

She had run from her father.

She had run from her mother.

And now, she had run from Harry.

From Beauxbatons to Hogwarts. From Hogwarts to Gringotts. Was running away the only thing Fleur Delacour was capable of?

Fleur knew that there was only one way she could start to put things back together, and that was to talk to Harry. She also knew that the only way that was going to happen was if she cast a body bind hex on him and forced him to listen, and that presented another set of problems, not the least of which was that Harry had proven he was more than capable using his wand, and throw more power than he was capable of.

On the other hand, she didn't really think that he would just listen to her. She was certain that Harry Potter hated her guts.

Because you've never given him any reason to. The little voice said. He believes everything he knew about you is false. Only that you were preying upon him. Taking advantage of him.

Her inner voice had been making this point all week. Well, this and a few other really good, and irrefutable points. Yes it had been true, that she had initially despised Harry. But as time went, her curiosity had led to that dislike vanishing, and in its place, a tentative friendship, even if it was born out of the sheer novelty of a distraction-free conversation, was born. Sure, her Allure wanted her to claim him, but that didn't mean she was a bad person, did it? She had made mistakes, but out of ignorance, not malice. Harry had to understand that. Maybe, just maybe, she could try to just… explain things to Harry, maybe several times if needed, and see what happened? It'd definitely be better than this isolation.

Initially, she had thought she'd not be able to sleep, but two days plus of physical and psychological stress made it inevitable. Nightmares came to haunt her,but they didn't make much of an impression. She had seen worse in the real world. Been worse.

It happened. She woke up, felt overwhelmed, cried and felt a little better, and then, she went back to sleep.

…

…

She woke up to a firm knock on the door. She got out of bed, wand in hand, and flicked a glance out of the window at the backyard. It was empty, and there was no one at the door that led into her kitchen. Only after she had checked all entrances did she go for the front door, glancing quickly out of the window as she went.

It was an elf.

Shorter in stature than any of the elves she had seen, barely a fraction above three and a half feet, its large, tennis-ball-like green eyes were bulging out of its sockets, while its long, bat-like pointed ears looked flappy. Its long pencil-like nose stood ramrod straight though. But most importantly, it wore a mismatched variety of jumpers, shorts and socks.

Fleur blinked.

The creature did not disappear.

So no, she wasn't seeing things. But Merde! This was the oddest elf she had seen.

"Excusez-moi?" She said, "Who are you?"

The elf did an excited jig. "Dobby, Miss. Dobby is called Dobby."

Fleur took a deep breath through her nose. It wasn't as though she was getting late, or had to go to work. It wasn't as though she had a special someone waiting for her.

Part of her longed to slam the door in the elf's face and go back to bed. She had always thought that kind of selfish reaction had been a fairly small portion of her character. Today, it felt huge.

The house was silent and empty behind her.

"Okay," she said, "What do you want, Dobbie?"

"Dobby has come to give you a letter, Miss."

A letter? From who?

"The great Harry Potter sir asked Dobby to give this to the great Harry Potter's flower."

There had been a time when Fleur would have bristled at the words and the insinuation contained within. But her less than stellar performance during the Triwizard and with everything that had happened after that, and her own growing ability to self-reflect had changed and reshaped her perspective. She had, as the saying goes, gotten over herself. But honestly, those concerns didn't even hit her brain. For she was too busy staring at the elf in shock and disbelief.

"Who—" She croaked. "Who sent you?"

"The great and powerful Harry Potter sir," the elf said in a reverent tone.

Fleur felt her body shiver. Harry! Harry had sent the elf! Harry had sent her a letter! Harry had—

Her hand moved on its own, snatching the letter from the elf's hand. Part of her feared that she'd find the absolute worst, to find that Harry wanted to cut off all contact with her. But he had been incommunicado for an entire week. Surely he wouldn't wait that long just to write a formal letter like that? That wasn't Harry.

She tore the envelope apart and read its contents. Inside was a single line.

Am I still welcome at your place?

Fleur read it. Then reread it. And then read it again and again. Her mind tried to twist that one single line into a dozen interpretations, but no matter how strange and byzantine the results become, the confusion in her mind didn't dissipate. William had spilled her dirtiest secret in front of Harry, and instead of facing them head-on, she had run like a failure. Like a criminal. She hadn't even tried to explain her viewpoint towards Harry, fearing what she'd find in his bright green eyes. So…

Then why was Harry treating this like he was the one at fault? What was going on in his mind? Had she been considering things the wrong way? Had he been looking at the situation differently and keeping his distance because, in some weird, convoluted way, he had been thinking that he was at fault?

The impending headache made her feel like crying.

"Ummm… Miss?"

"Yes!" She croaked. "Tell him he's always welcome at my place. Find that idiot and tell him—"

The sound of a sigh stopped her in her tracks.

Her eyes immediately zeroed in one corner of the courtyard where the sound originated. She saw a shimmer in the air before that spot split, revealing first a hand, until Harry had completely removed what was obviously an Invisibility Cloak and bunched it up into a tight ball and put it into his pouch.

"Hey!…" He said. "I wasn't sure if we were still on speaking terms so I OOOF—"

Fleur didn't give him the chance to finish that sentence. She sprinted across the distance between them and enfolded him in her arms, holding him tightly for dear life. After a surprised grunt, she was relieved to feel him wrapping his hands around her in return. They stood like that for a very long time. No matter what he did or tried to say, she kept trying to push herself further into him, as if trying to become one with him.

"Fleur—"

She sniffed.

Uh, Fleur, you can relax a bit!"

"Non!" she wept. "I'm afraid you'll vanish if I release you!"

"Huh! I hear there's a chance of doing that if you blink. Try not to do that too, yeah? I'd rather avoid vanishing."

Fleur couldn't help it. She snorted. It came out as a horrible mixture of a laugh and a croak.

"But seriously, my ribs are starting to bruise."

That brought out another chuckle from her and she pulled back, looking at him like seeing him for the first time. He looked absolutely ragged, like he had been through another Third Task. One of his eyes had blackened and there were red and black marks along his chin and neck. Instantly all her fears were forgotten and she was focussed on his injuries.

"What happened to you?" she asked, giving his bruises a critical look. She reached up and very tenderly touched it. Harry winced slightly, and she immediately apologised.

"War training with Sirius," He sighed. "Turns out my godfather is a merciless trainer at work. I swear I've had more hexes and curses thrown at me this entire week than I've had in my entire life."

"I zot curses don't affect you."

"Esoteric ones can't. But a cutting hex can still chop my head off," he jested. Fleur shivered at the morbid humour he was displaying. "Fire spells are his favourite, especially because I can't cast any. That and bludgeoners. That's how I got this…" He pointed at his blackened eye.

"Come. Come in," she said, "that is, if you'd like."

Harry gave her a slightly curious look, and Fleur let out a heavy sigh, before returning to her room. She heard the elf pop away, while Harry followed her into the house and sat on a chair. Turning around, she watched him closely for any signs of deception. He was behaving as if… as if everything was normal.

"'Arry—" "Fleur—"

Both of them began at the same time.

"You fi—" "—ou first!"

Both of them chuckled.

Fleur felt like crying again.

"You go first," he offered.

Fleur sniffed. "I'm sorry. I—I shouldn't have run like that. When William said those things, I was afraid… I was afraid that you'd— that you'd—"

"Think of you as a murderer?"

Fleur flinched.

"You wouldn't be wrong. I did, and do think you're one," Harry said, and Fleur felt her hopes die. Why was he doing this? Had he come to see her, only to rekindle her hopes and then extinguish them? It'd certainly be poetic. For all he knew, she had done the same to him. Taking advantage of his friendship to turn him into a puppet.

"I'd have liked it better if you'd have stood your ground."

"Would you've listened?"

Harry bit his lip. "Maybe. Maybe not. I'm… not sure. I mean, I did believe him. Still do. I've got no reason to mistrust Bill. And I did see how… blatant you were being. The things he said, they all fit, and I… I wasn't sure what I'd have believed, but I think I'd have heard you."

Fleur felt hollow. "Then you're a better man than my father."

"What do you—?"

"And William is right," Fleur admitted. "He's right. I'm a murderess. It is my truth. To be a veela is to kill others for food. Just… not the way you think. But 'Arry," she paused, and whipped her wand out. "I can swear an unforgivable vow to you right now. I can—"

Harry held up a hand to stop her from speaking any further.

"The way I see it," He began in a resigned tone. "The moment I ask you for a vow, there's no longer trust involved. You'll know that I don't trust you, and it is only your vow that will force you to do right by me, whether you want to or not. And I'll always wonder if you're working some angle on me. If you're saying or doing things because you're trying to get me to do something you want me to. It might not be to kill me or something, but it can be much, much worse. And I'm not sure I can live with that."

Fleur recoiled at the hardness in his eyes.

"I don't want that, 'Arry," she said after a moment, "But I—"

"Are a veela, I know," he stated, and exhaled loudly. He looked like he was going to be sick. "And maybe you're right. I was… terrified. Being able to talk to you freely has been one of the best things this summer. I knew you were interested in me. I mean, I know about how veela charm men. I've seen how Ron behaves around you. You know, when you went all seductive and charming on me, I thought you were teasing me. Because you weren't some veela. You are Fleur. Fleur Delacour. My friend. And then in Gringotts, I felt that psychic impression you did, and I started thinking about things. Were you really into me, or was it something else? And then when Bill—"

He rose to his feet, and Fleur started to panic. Was he really going to leave? He couldn't do that. Not yet. She hadn't even tried to explain her side of the story. Her hand rose up, but Harry stopped her again.

"You're in luck though," he spoke up again. "You had someone on your side all this time."

Fleur blanched. Someone on her side? Who could be it? Had Madam Moore contacted him?

"Sirius."

"Monsieur Black?" That was a surprise. Fleur always felt that Monsieur Black only seemed to tolerate her at best. Oh he was the perfectly polite gentleman, but she had always felt like a stranger, an outsider in his presence.

"Yeah," Harry chuckled. "It's kind of funny. He also keeps teasing me about you, but I know he doesn't like you. He tries hard to hide it, but it's kind of obvious. "

"I can't blame him," she murmured.

"I was angry. I went back to Grimmauld Place. Sirius knew something was wrong, but he didn't ask. It's scary how well he knows me." he chuckled. "He and Dumbledore had a talk during the party, about getting me trained for Vold— for the next time I got attacked."

That's what he's been doing? Fleur wondered. Getting himself beaten up and duelling a veteran Hit-wizard?

"And then yesterday night… I couldn't take it any more and I talked to Sirius. Turns out, he knew this all along. You might not know this, but Sirius has had Kreacher tracking us, tracking you all summer."

Her stomach did a nasty flip. "...what?"

"Yeah," He admitted. "Sirius wasn't sure why Griphook was throwing a veela on my path. He told me he suspected this was the goblin's attempt to, how did he put it? Get me hooked. He made extensive checks on your past, your family, your choices…I think he was absolutely terrified when we were attacked in Diagon Alley. He feared that it was all a setup, and you were behind it."

Fleur's eyes went wide at the revelation. In hindsight, she had acted like the typical veela, hadn't she? Under the guise of a reward, she had tried to bed him. And given his self-sacrificial attitude, it wasn't too far to assume that she had orchestrated the entire situation.

"But I didn't. You— you know that."

There was an awkward silence that fell as Harry stared at the floor and Fleur watched him, feeling her stomach clenching. She wasn't sure why, but she was desperately hanging to the idea that maybe things might actually be okay between them. Or at least, he was going to listen to her side of the story.

"I know. The people that attacked me. They were Slytherins. They were after me because of the deaths, not because of you. But here's the thing. Blaise Zabini is your half-brother, and he fits in directly with the crowd that is against me. I wasn't sure what to think any more—"

"And you aren't going to accept an unbreakable vow," Fleur said angrily.

He gave her a small, sad smile. "No. I won't. Sirius told me about Veela. He said that he had already verified you. I didn't know this, but Sirius had a brother. Regulus. He fell in the bad crowd at school. Joined the Death Eaters. Sirius hated him, despised him for joining the very forces he was fighting against. But then, one night, Regulus came to him. He told him that he had enough of this war, and that he wanted out. He wanted Sirius to join him, leave Wizarding Britain and go away to Australia, or the States, where the war wouldn't touch them. He was even willing to bear the presence of my parents if that was what it took. He kept on saying that there was a betrayer among his friends, but Sirius wouldn't listen."

Harry exhaled. "Sirius told him he didn't want to listen to him. Told him he was lying. That Regulus had chosen a path with no redemption. A month later, Regulus Black was dead. He was dead alongside Marcus Avery. The guy that had killed Sirius's fiancé, Marlene McKinnon."

Fleur swallowed.

"To this date," Harry continued with a sigh. "Sirius blames himself. He tells himself that if he had given Regulus a chance to explain, a chance to begin anew, maybe he'd not have lost his brother. Ironically, just two months later, Peter Pettigrew betrayed my parents, sold them to Voldemort, and framed Sirius for it all. Had Sirius believed Regulus back then, who knows… things could've been different."

He met Fleur's eyes. "I don't know if what Bill said is true or not. I don't care if you're a veela or not. But I do care about my friend, so I'm willing to give you a chance. You wanted to explain yourself so tell me,," his eyes flashed. "Tell me the truth of Fleur Delacour."

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