Forget Me Nott

Disclaimer : Nothing is mine; everything is J K Rowling's. Still.

AN : Back to a little bit longer!

Forget Me Nott

The bronze pieces of the box's lock gleamed in the summer sunshine spilling in through the kitchen window. Fleur waved her wand at them, watching them combine and recombine into a hundred different shapes.

Pretty, but does it actually work? She closed her eyes.

Threads of magic writhed in each piece, grasping at each other every time they combined like desperate fingers.

A shadow passed over her face.

Fleur cracked open an eye and traded her wand for a steaming mug of hot chocolate. Harry strolled past the window, trailed by a procession of glass jars and vials.

That idiot. She rolled her eyes and let a pout creep onto her lips.

Thinking he can sneak off to the meadows where I won't see him.

Fleur finished her hot chocolate, tucked her wand into the waist of her dress, then followed his trail through knee-high, dry grass. She ran her fingers through the rustling fronds near the brook and stepped beneath the shade of the elm trees, crunching twigs beneath her bare feet.

Harry stiffened, then turned around and sighed. "Curious, were you?" "I was."

"You must have been to put aside your box." A bright gleam of humour entered his eyes. "Are you going to tell me what it does?"

"I am going to lock you in it." Fleur crossed her arms. "And keep you there."

"Imprisoned by a sex-craving, part-human bird-witch." Harry's smile spread into a broad grin. "Sounds like fun to me."

Fleur rolled her eyes and laughed. "You have been listening to Gabby again."

"She promised she'd make me prince-consort when she becomes veela queen as long as I renounce you as the first wife in my veela harem and swear on my magic I think she's cuter than you."

A peal of laughter burst from Fleur's lips. "No she didn't."

"No." Harry swept his wand in a vague circle and the vials spread out to hover in a loose circle around the edges of the grove before descending to the ground. "But she did spend a lot of time explaining how disappointed she was her older sister didn't share her boyfriend with all the female members of her family like a real veela would."

"Ah, she's on the eleventh book again. They start getting a bit weird from there." Fleur pointed a finger at the glassware. "What are you up to, mon Amour?"

Harry began to draw runes on the ground around him in incandescent, purple flames. "The ritual to increase how fast I recover after using magic. I'll recover more, so I'll be able to last longer in duels. It's an obvious advantage to have, one I'm sure Voldemort has already seized."

An interlocking design of seven triangles, all etched in patterns of blazing purple runes, surrounded him; an array of leaves rose from the largest three jars.

"Myrrh, bloodroot, vervain," Harry said. "At the moment, this ritual would act as no more than a very potent version of some of the recovery potions you can get at St Mungo's or in Diagon Alley, so to make it permanent I get to do the fun, sacrificial, blood magic bit." He flicked the tip of his wand across his wrist, releasing a thick stream of crimson from the underside of his palm.

Fleur curled her toes and hissed, clenching her jaw and balling her hands into fists. "I do not like you doing that."

The blood flowed in an unbroken pattern over the design, spattering the plants in crimson as Harry made his way around the triangles.

Fleur tugged her wand from her waist and stepped to the edge of the set of triangles. "Vulnera sanentur," she murmured.

"Thanks." He twirled his wand in his fingers. "You should close your eyes now."

Fleur squeezed her eyes shut as a bright, purple flash seared at her eyelids, then dragged them open again.

Harry stood at the centre of a web of pulsing purple runes. Every vein stood out from his skin, his jaw clenched so tight his teeth grated, and his whole body trembled.

It's hurting him. Fleur twisted her feet in the short grass and moss until it tore. It's really hurting him.

Harry sagged. "Not the most pleasant feeling," he muttered. "I imagine having molten lead poured through your veins would feel similar." He shot her a tired grin. "Or how showering in this house used to be before you finally fixed the enchantments in the bathroom."

"I did a better job of fixing the shower than you did of painting the door," Fleur retorted. "It's supposed to be smooth and even."

"It is," Harry replied.

"It is now you've gone and used magic to fix it," Fleur teased. "Before, there were lumps everywhere and more blue on the doorstep than on the door."

"It's harder than it looks," Harry protested. "I needed a better brush really." He stuck his chin in the air and put his hands on his hips. "Next time, "Arry," he drawled in a high falsetto. "I shall paint ze door myself; eet "az more "air on eet zan ze brush does."

She pouted at him. "And I shall. You are not an artist, mon Cœur."

Harry vanished the remnants of his ritual and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. A bright little gleam welled up in his eyes.

"You're cute when you get excited," Fleur told him. "This is the one you designed to resist poisons, isn't it?"

A clever enchantment. She watched him draw a perfect, triangular prism about himself in the same glowing purple runes until he was a shadow behind a wall of floating, violet fire.

A handful of bezoars hovered beside white mistletoe berries and a single silver drop rose from among them, floating to the peak of the prism of flame.

Fleur gasped. "Where did you get that?"

"The uncursed unicorn blood?" Harry grinned. "I had to make a slightly disturbing trade with a shady vampire for it, but it's pretty much the only thing potent enough to purge any malicious substance or curse away."

"I know." Fleur tossed her hair over her shoulder. "I read your notes on what you wanted it to do, too."

"Sneak," he accused. "You threatened to tell Gabby about our list of rooms if I peaked at your box."

Fleur laughed. "I will show you the box, if you let me join."

"Join?" Harry froze and a shadow flickered through his eyes. "But-" he swallowed "-ok."

Realised I'll be safer, have you? She smothered a triumphant smirk. Little by little, you'll get used to doing everything with me. You'll learn to trust me without reservation.

"You're getting better." She flashed him a soft smile and ducked through the floating runes. "Soon I'll have all your secrets, mon Cœur."

"Then you'll get bored of me and fly off."

Fleur rolled her eyes and kissed him on the cheek. "If your awful bird jokes haven't got rid of me, nothing will."

Harry studied his design. "You know, I don't think I have to change anything." He spun his wand in idle circles on his palm. "The only real issue is the sacrifice. I've made mine." The corner of his lips twitched. "I've sacrificed plenty to get here and it all counts."

I've sacrificed plenty, too. She buried memories of a trio of best friends and all their times together beneath the French sun and the shadows of the Pyrenees. The more it hurts to get.

"Does it matter who does the sacrificing?" she asked.

Harry blinked. "You know, I'm not actually sure it will matter in our case."

"Our," she echoed. " Finally, mon Amor."

Half a smile flashed across his face. " Our dream. Our sacrifice."

Our perfect wish.

He opened his wrist and drew forth a thin stream of blood, draping it over the runes and leaving it hanging upon those in the air like a bright red ribbon. "Your turn," he murmured.

Fleur grimaced and slashed her wand across her wrist, murmuring the incantation of the cutting curse. A deep line tore through the soft, pale skin of her arm. Harry dug his heels into the grass and looked away.

A small smile slipped onto Fleur's lips as she layered her blood over his own. "Vulnera sanentur," she whispered, touching the tip of her wand to his arm.

He twitched, then the cut crept closed.

Fleur healed herself. "What now?"

"Close your eyes," he whispered, taking her hand.

Fear curled cold, sharp nailed fingers into her belly. "Will it hurt a lot?"

He squeezed her fingers. "It will. But… the more it hurts to get-"

"The more satisfying it is to get it," she murmured, closing her eyes and leaning back against his chest.

The purple runes glowed, pulsing so bright her eyelids shone red. The metallic tang of blood saturated her tongue and her lungs began to burn like she'd run until puking.

Fleur curled her fingers into fists, clenching her nails into her palm. That's unpleasant. Really unpleasant.

The searing sensation in her chest oozed downward, settling as a roiling, hot pool in her stomach. Fleur forced her gorge down, inhaling through her nose, and Harry's breathing turned light and fast beside her. A dizziness seized her and she swayed, stumbling and staggering against him until the sickness faded.

Merde. That wasn't fun. She opened her eyes to fading purple light and wrinkled her nose at the copper taste clinging to her tongue. "That wasn't so bad," Harry muttered. "I don't feel too tired."

"Is it over?" Fleur turned her nose up. "I felt a bit sick, but I'm not tired."

"It's done. Do we have anything strong tasting in the kitchen?"

"Yes." She ran her tongue over her teeth. "We have wine. Very sweet, white wine."

"Jurançon…" Harry vanished the remnants of the ritual and slipped his wand away, apparating them back into the kitchen.

The dizziness returned and Fleur swayed, catching herself on the table. Harry sprawled across the floor with a groan.

"I retract what I said," he muttered into the tiles. "This one's just as bad as all the others."

"What were the others like?" she asked.

"They hurt a lot, but I didn't feel so horribly sick."

"Maybe this will help." Fleur plucked a wine bottle from the fridge and tugged out the rubber stop. She conjured two glasses, poured a decent measure into each, then gulped the closest down and let the taste of blood fade.

"That is a very British way to drink wine." Harry dragged himself off the floor and staggered into a chair. "Your family would be horrified."

Fleur poured herself a second, more modest glass and sipped it. "Happy now?"

Harry quaffed his own drink and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, then reopened his eyes and grinned at her. "Now I'm happy. I don't feel like I'm about to throw up or like I've just gone way too far in my impersonation of a vampire."

"Good." She finished her glass of wine a sip at a time, savouring the sweet, sharp bouquet and its hint of fruit. "Lying around feeling sick was not the plan for the rest of the day."

"No." Harry's expression hardened. "No, it wasn't."

"Do you think it's still a good idea to go?" Fleur asked. "You did just lose a fair bit of blood."

He drummed his fingers on his glass. "It's not ideal, but I don't think we should waste our chance." Harry slid his glass aside and placed his hand over hers. "Do you not feel up to going? I can go alone."

Fleur narrowed her eyes and let a little heat creep from her bones.

"No. You're not going alone. You're not doing anything alone again." She stood and tucked the wine bottle back into the fridge. "I'll apparate us to the edge of the wards, then take them down."

Harry frowned. "Did you check Gringotts's records to see who they know is there?"

Fleur opened her little notebook and flicked through the pages. "Just him, his son, and a house elf registered to the family."

"A house elf," Harry murmured. "I'd rather avoid the elf."

"Avoiding a house elf within its own residence is all but impossible."

His eyes cooled and he drew in a deep breath. "Then I suppose there's no choice. Shall we go?"

"This doesn't feel like much of a plan." Fleur sighed. "I much prefer having a plan."

A small smile passed across Harry's lips. "I don't really like plans, they just cage you in. Nothing ever seems to go to plan, anyway." Planning leads to hoping. Fleur slid an arm "round his shoulders and rested her head on his shoulder. And hoping leads to hurting.

"Let's go," she said, picturing the manse beyond the lawns.

They appeared upon the gentle slope of a Kentish hill underneath a spread of late-blossoming hawthorn and gentle drizzle. The soft smell of wet leaves and loam permeated the air with the sweet scent of rhododendron flowers. Two hedges, a ditch and a low, loosestoned wall lay between them and the lawn of the Notts" smart, symmetrical Georgian home.

"The ward is on the wall." Fleur pulled out her wand. "They cast the Unyielding Shield Charm, which I can breach, and their antiapparition wards and portkey wards are up, which I will tweak to prevent anyone leaving."

"Will they notice?" Harry asked.

Fleur shook her head. "There's nothing woven into the magic to alert anyone to any changes. They won't know anything's wrong unless they try to leave or they see us."

"Alright, then." Harry's wand slid from his sleeve. "Wait, what about the Floo?"

"Not connected. I checked." She touched the tip of her wand to the edge of the ward and re-wove the threads of magic preventing apparition and portkey travel. "Now hush, mon Amour."

The best way to break the Unyielding Shield Charm is to force it to stretch infinitely far, instantly. Fleur forced an inverted version of the Unyielding Shield Charm from her wand in a crackling beam of white light and watched the two wards battle. Magic poured from her into her spell. It shouldn't take long to exhaust it.

A shimmer rippled above them in the haze of rain and the resistance to her magic caved.

"Done." Fleur let the drain wash over her and the ache settled into her limbs. "But that was tiring, very tiring. I won't be fighting many long duels."

"Hopefully, we'll catch them by surprise and won't have to fight any." Harry took her free wrist in his hand and apparated them in front of and then past the window into the downstairs hall in two quiet snaps.

Fleur trailed Harry as he prowled the halls. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears over the soft patter of the rain and her eyes darted toward every shadow and shape. Why does it have to be so quiet?

A loud creak came from behind her.

Fleur whirled, unleashing a stunning spell and twisting away from where she stood, then casting three more at the dark figure in the doorway. Her spells spattered across faded tapestries and bright blue beams melted through the wall next to her head, taking some of her hair with it. Harry's piercing curse clipped the white-masked wizard's thigh, leaving a gushing groove.

"Aguamenti," he snapped.

Ice cracked and spread across the hall, coating the tapestries and thrusting, in cruel jutting spikes, from the floor, walls and ceiling. The figure sprayed blasting curses at it, but the spines closed around him like the jaws of a trap, impaling his limbs and pinning him down like an olive on a cocktail stick. Blood trickled over the clear spines, congealed, then froze into red frost.

Jugson. Fleur disarmed Jugson and snapped his wand, tossing the pieces over her shoulder. I was useless. Casting stunning spells. And I didn't even hit him.

"There's a house elf in residence here," Harry said. "Summon them."

"The house elf?" Jugson sneered. "Why? "

"I don't make the mistake of underestimating magical creatures just because they're not intimidating." Harry cocked his head and the ice shivered, the spines twisting deeper into Jugson like screws into a wall and a fresh wave of red trickled down them. " Summon them."

"Askey," Jugson groaned.

A loud crack echoed down the hall and a bald, wrinkled head appeared between them and Jugson.

Harry's wand snapped up. "Lacero."

The head slipped off its neck and the elf collapsed as if the strings had been cut from his marionette. Crimson spurted from the severed stump onto the ice and froze.

No risking the one perfect thing that came true. Fleur rested a hand on Harry's shoulder. No matter what it takes.

"Are there any others here?" Harry asked.

"Are you going to kill them too, Potter? The Dark Lord was right about you. We should have listened."

Harry traced the slender ebony tip of his wand down Jugson's cheek and rested it against the throbbing artery in his neck, staring right into the death eater's eyes. "One last try…"

A shallow old man. No different to shallow little girls.

"Go to hell, Potter." Jugson spat at the floor between Harry's feet where the blood crept across the rugs toward their toes. "We'll all be waiting for you there."

Harry's spell punched a fist-sized hole through Jugon's sternum, then he turned away. "Let's go," he murmured, pulling Fleur back from the spreading red puddle.

He is always the one who does this. Fleur smothered a sudden flare of heat and the prickle of feathers. I tell him I'm not a trophy, but all I do is wait for him when things are hard and help when it's easy.

"Do you think there will be others?" she whispered.

"There's only Nott and his son," Harry said. "I only asked to provoke him to think about them."

They swept past dull, plain tapestries depicting scenes of hunting and many empty rooms until they came to a grander doorway.

"Nott's in here." Harry touched the tip of his wand to the door and it crumbled to dust, pooling and swirling about their feet as they stepped into the hall. "I don't know where his son is, but we'll deal with that later."

Elegant, expensive chairs surrounded a mahogany table that stretched from one end of the room to the other beneath an array of crystal chandeliers. A stooped figure sat at the far end of the table by the fire beneath the painting of a blonde woman.

"Potter," Nott hissed. "How the Dark Lord will honour me when I bring him you."

A flurry of bright orange curses arced towards them over the long mahogany table, but Harry flicked them aside from the tip of his wand, sending them to hiss and spatter across the floor. Fleur stepped "round him, adding her spells to his as they advanced.

A stray curse struck the chandeliers and fragments of crystal rained down between them, cascading in a glittering sprawl across the centre of the room. The mahogany table collapsed into dust when Harry placed the tip of his wand upon it and Fleur, gracefully twirling around him, deflected the volley of curses Nott unleashed back at him, sending him diving across the carpet. Chairs splintered and shattered under stray spells.

Nott turned his wand on her. "Imperio."

A light, floating sensation filled her, a low dull ache throbbed at the sight of the blonde woman painted above the hearth, then a surge of bright, hot hate seized her and she turned her wand on Harry.

Kill him. The spell hovered on the tip of her tongue, but something caught them each time she opened her mouth. Not Harry. He's mine. Her wand tip snapped back to Nott.

Thin, dark ropes snared the Death Eater and dragged him into his chair, binding him tight. Harry summoned a pair of battered chairs from the wreckage and took a seat in front of him.

You forgot to take his wand, idiot. Fleur tugged Nott's wand from his limp grip and tossed it into the fire behind him.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Nott drawled.

"The other Death Eater's dead. Askey too." Harry caught the Death

Eater's gaze. "Nobody's coming to save you."

Nott flinched. "I have nothing to say to you."

"You don't have to say anything." Harry leant back on his chair. "It really makes no difference."

Nott's wife poked her pale face out from behind the tree on her canvas, clamping her hand over her mouth.

"I was wondering if you knew of any of your fellows being given something to protect by Voldemort. An object that he greatly valued."

"I told you I have nothing to say to you." Nott sneered. "You, descended from such a prestigious bloodline, now consorting with that creature." His eyes flicked to Fleur. "It's not unattractive, I suppose; it might make an amusing distraction at times, but to openly breed with it is to contaminate centuries of magical blood." A cold, sharp gleam entered Harry's eye. "You should choose your next words very carefully."

Fleur raised a finger and forced a bright blue spark into life upon its tip. "There's more magic in my finger than you possess, shallow little man." She pressed the finger into his cheek until he clenched his jaw and writhed. "You don't get to judge us."

"Father!" Footsteps pounded across the floor. "Stupefy!"

Fleur whirled and batted aside the spell.

A young wizard clutched a short, light wood wand in one shaking hand. She tore it from his hand with a single spell and tossed it away into the corner.

"He's seen us," Harry said. "You know what that means."

"No," Nott shouted. "I don't know anything about any object, I swear, but not my son, not Theo!"

"I thought you didn't have anything to say to us," Harry said. "I suppose, if you said something useful, Theo could be memory charmed."

No he can't be. Fleur exchanged a glance with him as Nott babbled. And it's time I showed you we're just the same. A small smile curved her lips. Maybe it'll help you trust that this time your dream's here to stay.

"Enough," Harry said. "You're repeating yourself."

"You said you would Memory Charm him," Nott croaked. " Please. " "I did." Harry raised his wand, a cold, hard look in his eyes.

Fleur clawed up Emilie and Caroline and all the little shallow girls with their games and their whispers and their words. Shallow little people who'd ruin dreams just because it'd make them feel powerful.

The fire bubbled in her bones and the feathers strained beneath her skin. We have to ruin them first. It's their dreams or ours.

"Avada kedavra," she whispered.

A bright, green flash reflected back off the shattered pieces of chandelier and the polished parts of furniture. Theo Nott crumpled like a house of cards. "No!" Nott cried. "You - you-"

"I lied," Harry said.

"Theo," Nott whispered, staring at the body of his son. Tears trickled down his grizzled face as he stared up at the painting above the mantle. "I failed you, Calli."

Dead. A flutter of disquiet flitted through Fleur's stomach. She crushed it. Just another small dream snuffed out. For ours to live, theirs must die. And I didn't make it that way. They did.

"He knew nothing," Harry said. "We've wasted our time."

"Two less Death Eaters," Fleur replied. "There are others on the list."

"Yes, there are." A faint smile curved Harry's lips. "I'll take them all away from him, one after the other. Until it's just him." He slashed his wand across his chest.

The fire swirled. A flaming serpent's maw lunged from the grate, closing around Nott with a snap and a hiss like cold water poured into a hot pan.

"We should raze the place." Harry took Fleur's hand, apparating them both to the edge of the wards. "Another disappearance won't stand out anymore, but we don't want Dumbledore or someone at the Ministry to figure anything out."

Fleur nodded. "No risking our perfect wish, mon Cœur."

Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders and raised his wand.

"It's not easy to cast or control, but if you could manage the Killing

Curse…"

She leant into his embrace and thrust her wand out beside his. "There are plenty of things I'd like to see destroyed, and you should know I am more than stubborn enough to keep control."

"Together?" Harry asked, pulling her a little tighter against him.

"Together."

All the things I hate about this world. Fleur took a deep breath and let old thoughts rise up. Easy, pretty, expensive trinkets and beautiful lies that float beyond our fingertips.

Red-tipped flames billowed from their wands across the neat lawn. A roiling storm of magic swirled before them, eating into the wards like boiling water through ice. The head and wings of a vast, feathered serpent rose over the house; its coils encircled it, searing the grass and leaves to ash. Little yellow flames sprang up upon scorched branches, licking at the wood, and smoke streamed across the countryside.

"Leave nothing but ash," Harry murmured.

The fiendfyre serpent spread its wings, rising over the home like a cobra, then plunged down into the house and drew its coils tight. The walls and roof dissolved beneath the flames and the mansion crashed into a pool of red fire. A thick column of smoke poured off it, rising up to blot out the sun.

Fleur forced the fire down, smothering the desire for destruction. The magic ripped the strength from her like a giant's fist, leaving her gasping and trembling in Harry's arms. Patches of crimson flame flared back up across the ruins.

"That's enough." Harry flourished his wand and the red flames guttered out into thin patches of yellow fire. "The rest will burn out naturally."

"It's a lot easier to cast than end," Fleur said.

"Hatred's hard to direct." Harry's wand vanished into his sleeve and he wrapped his other arm round her. "That was incredible control for your first time."

"What kind of veela would I be if I couldn't manage a fire spell?"

He shot her a grin. "One that's less inclined to melt my face off?"

"It would just be harder to do." She sighed and let the ache of exhaustion wash through her. "I think I'd rather just take a nap, right now. You can go back to your stone hunting while I sleep."

"Are you ok?" Harry murmured.

"I'm tired." She leant her head on his shoulder and let her eyelids droop. "Between the fiendfyre and the wards…"

"That's not what I meant." He twisted "round and cradled her head against his chest. "You didn't have to do that, you know."

Fleur watched the flames consume the rest of the ruins. "Yes I did."

"I could've-"

"You could've. And next time you start to worry about your wish slipping away, you might've thought back and remembered I wouldn't do what you did. You might've started to wonder…" She tilted her head back against his arm and watched the reflection of the fire dance in his eyes. "But now you can't. It might be hard for you, but I will make you trust me. With everything. Without hesitation. Without doubt."

Something very soft shone in Harry's eyes and a small smile spread across his face. "There's a mirror, one that can show you what you desire most…"

"The Mirror of Erised," Fleur let her eyes slide shut and her weight slip into his arms. "It's famous."

"I've seen it. In the Department of Mysteries."

She forced her eyes open and held her breath. "What did you see?"

Us. I hope. She pictured their reflections in the glass, arm in arm. Gabby hovered at the edge of the scene, a mischievous gleam in her eye. Our perfect wish.

He apparated them back into their bedroom with a soft snap and laid her down on the bed. Her dress shifted into loose-fitting pyjamas as he pulled the duvet up and sat down beside her.

"Harry?" Fleur suppressed a yawn as the soft, warmth enveloped her and let her eyes drift shut. "What did you see?"

"I saw you," he whispered, running his fingers through her hair as sleep drew her down into the dark. "I saw you."

Discord is still a thing. Audiobooks are also still a thing. All the links are on my profile and on discord, including how to support me and read my original works! Discord is the best place to get updates and find about everything I do, so do check it out if you're interested!

But if you don't fancy hunting, there's always this one below.

discord. gg / 7D7dWjzKac

A Labyrinth of Delusions

Disclaimer : Nothing is mine; everything is J K Rowling's. Still.

AN : On we go…

A Labyrinth of Delusions

A single line of green flame flickered upon the wall. Harry glared at it, then scanned the spread of parchment hovering in the centre of the room.

All this cataloguing and there's no mention of anything remotely like a resurrection stone. He sent the pages streaming back into a stack beneath the green line. Not anywhere. Ever.

"They probably never even told anyone they had it." He released a long sigh and strode out and downstairs. "I wouldn't either."

It's fine. I have years. I'll find it eventually.

"Taking a break?" Fleur quirked an eyebrow at him as she ladled sugar into a steaming mug.

"Can you look at my family's Gringotts records?" Harry asked, settling into a chair by the kitchen table

She nodded and scooped another heaped teaspoon of sugar in. "Can and have."

"Checking out if I can still afford to buy sugar?" He gave the jar a shake. "I'm sure I filled that up yesterday."

"You did." Fleur screwed the lid on and slid it across the side into its usual spot. "Why can't you look at your own records?"

"I didn't want you to be bored at work?"

A soft laugh escaped Fleur. "Yes you do."

Harry grimaced and the bronze ring shone before the eye of his mind. "A little bit." He shot her a small smile. "Did you see anything about my cloak?"

"No…" Fleur cocked her head and swept her silver hair over her shoulder. "Actually, it wasn't mentioned at all."

Harry muttered a few choice words under his breath. "I bet whoever got the stone and the wand did the same thing."

She nodded and took a sip of her drink. "I suspect they passed it down by hand. A lot of families do, especially with goblin-made things, since Gringotts likes to try and repossess them at any chance they get. There's no mention of any goblin-made dagger for eight generations of Gaunts, then suddenly they traded a goblin-made dagger heirloom back to Gringotts in return for waiving interest payments on a loan."

He ground his teeth. "So they kept the stone hidden, whichever branch had it, and someone either stole it or was given it, but we've no way of finding out who or when."

Fleur stepped across the kitchen and put her mug down to take his hands between hers. "There are other ways of finding things. The only limits magic has are the ones we believe it has. Perhaps we can give scrying a try."

"Scrying?" Harry asked.

"An obscure form of divination. Gabby knows a bit about it. It requires a similar gift to hers. We might be able to create something similar."

"I picked the wrong sister," Harry teased.

"Don't worry, mon Cœur, in the veela harem, all sisters are equal."

Fleur rolled her eyes. "Now I'm making those jokes. Incroyable. "

Harry chuckled. "I guess it'll have to wait."

"Better to focus on the now, I think." She plucked her drink off the table and took another sip. "Otherwise, I'll need the stone for you."

He nodded and folded up a spare piece of parchment, sliding his wand from his sleeve. "I made a new spell…"

"So?" Fleur raised her eyebrows at him over the steaming mug. "I finished my box. If you get the right shape, it unlocks the box, if you don't, the enchantment opens all your synapses and paralyses you."

Harry threw a glance at the flowing bronze design upon the small box. "Is this how you plan to stop me stealing your cake?"

She laughed. "The only thing I've put in it are the vials full of your memories and a few other bits and pieces you've given me."

"Hoarding things like a magpie, mon Amour?" Harry's heart flopped about in his chest. "No shiny rings?"

Fleur gave him a small smile. "No rings." She poked him in the shin with her toe. "Tell me about your spell."

He tapped the piece of parchment with his wand and watched it crumble to fine dust. "It's a curse, really, like the withering curse, but faster acting and only effective against inanimate things." Harry vanished the dust. "I couldn't get it to overcome the survival instinct of living things without it being slow again."

"Do you have to imbue it?" Fleur asked.

He nodded. "Yeah, I have to be able to push the magic into whatever I'm targeting, which basically means I need to touch it with my wand."

"You used it on the table at the Nott mansion," she said.

"First test." He grinned. "It worked well."

"Don't test new spells at reckless moments," she scolded. "What if it had gone wrong?"

A brief twist of guilt tightened in his breast. "It was fine, wasn't it?"

" This time." She folded her arms, a small pout creeping onto her lips.

"If you keep taking risks, eventually you lose." Fleur sipped her drink. "Have you tried imbuing conjurations with your spell?"

"No…" Harry turned it over in his head. "I could do that, couldn't I? It's basically the same thing, just a bit less direct."

"Your pretty butterfly spell." She set the mug down. "Try that."

He conjured a single, ebony-winged insect, suffusing it with his new spell as it left his wand's tip, and directed it across the table to alight upon another piece of parchment. It collapsed into dust and the butterfly vanished in a wisp of black vapour. "You're brilliant." Harry stood up and pressed a light kiss upon her lips.

Fleur clutched the front of his robes and dragged his lips back to hers until his heart raced. "A brilliant girl deserves a longer kiss, no?"

His hands slipped to her waist, pulling her dress up inch by inch.

"You can have more than kisses, if you want…"

Fleur bit her lip. "Tempting…"

Hedwig fluttered through the open window with a low hoot and dropped a letter upon the table.

"Your results." Fleur slipped out of his hands and grabbed the envelope. "Let's see…"

"Mood-killer." Harry shot Hedwig a glare. "I wish the Fidelius still kept you out."

Hedwig nibbled her foot, then turned her head around and stared out the window.

"Not even a hint of guilt." Harry tutted. "Shocking."

Fleur waved the envelope at him and scrunched her face up. "A shame the Fidelius doesn't keep out spiders or earwigs."

"If only you were so lucky," Harry teased. "Sadly, you have no magic powerful enough to keep you safe from such terrifying creatures."

"Just thinking about their creepy little tails and legs makes me shiver." She drew her slim shoulders together with a little shudder. "They're horrible."

"It's a good thing nobody else knows about this Achilles heel." Harry laughed. "If I can conjure butterflies, I'm sure I can manage earwigs too."

She offered him a sweet smile. "If you summon so much as a single one of those ugly creatures, you'll find kisses will be all you get for a very long time."

Harry chuckled. "It might be worth the screams."

"Oh?" Fleur's smile turned sultry. "Tu es sûr de ça?"

"I'm fairly sure your inherent sexual veela nature will bring you crawling back to me, bird-girl," he teased.

"Crawling?" Fleur huffed. "Never. I might let you make me ask, but I will never crawl." A wicked, wild gleam welled up in her blue eyes. "There are far more fun things I can do on my knees…"

"Promises, promises." Harry tugged the envelope from her fingers. "Don't you want to know if you beat me first?"

"I don't want to know if I have beaten you." She smirked and pressed her lips to his cheek. "I want to know by how much."

"What did you get?" Harry asked. "Perfect Os?"

"As always."

"Right." Harry slid a finger through the envelope and pulled out the slip of paper within. "So in other words the best I can hope for is a draw."

"Can I see?" Fleur turned her wide, soft, blue eyes on him.

His heart squirmed in his breast and a smile spread over his lips. "Cheating bird-witch, you're using your unnatural wiles, again."

She plucked the letter from his hand. "My wiles are au naturel." Her eyes dipped to the letter and her playful smirk widened. "There are a few letters in here that aren't Os. What do they mean?"

Harry laughed. "You know full well what that means."

"You mean that you didn't get the highest grade in four subjects. Well, I suppose I can help you."

"What challenging things are we ever going to need to undertake involving Astronomy, or History of Magic?" Harry asked. "Unless you've been planning a goblin rebellion while you've been at Gringotts?"

Fleur's smile faded a fraction. "It's more than likely the goblins are planning their own rebellion. The stronger Voldemort gets, the more old followers of Grindelwald start to dream they've a new champion. The goblins will revolt the moment they think they have a chance."

A soft thrum echoed through the house.

"Someone's here," Harry said.

"Sirius, unless they're very good with wards." Fleur's wand appeared in her hand. "Gabby's not meant to be visiting for a while now."

Harry slipped his wand from his sleeve and strode to the door. Sirius waited on the step, staring up at the sky.

Just Sirius. He tucked his wand away. I wonder if something important's happened?

"Only me." Shadows lingered under Sirius's eyes, deep and dark.

Little Nym. Harry smothered the brief recollection of warmth beneath the image of her still face and empty eyes. She might've been another friend like Katie, but Voldemort took her away. His heart slipped down into the dark. He'll take everything away if he can. Until all the wishes are gone and all our dreams are dust. A twist of pity seized him, then dwindled into the void. Because all his dreams turned to dust and now he doesn't believe in them at all.

"Come in." Harry ushered Sirius into the house and shut the door. "Has anything happened?"

"Dumbledore's back." Sirius trudged into the lounge and slumped into the chair across from the sofa. He gave Fleur the faintest shadow of a smile and a wave. "He just popped in like nothing's changed since the summer began, then popped out again."

Harry took a seat beside Fleur on the sofa and slipped an arm "round her. "Did he say what he's been doing?"

"Something crucial was all he said." Sirius clenched his fists and jaw. "He outlived my parents" generation, he's nearly outlived mine, and now he's started outliving yours."

Fleur leant forward. "He prefers to let people die nobly than dirty his own hands. His own conscience is more important to him than ensuring we win."

Sirius glowered at the carpet between his feet. "You're damn right it is. He had to be dragged out of Hogwarts to fight Grindelwald according to my mother. If he'd gone a year or so earlier, there'd be a lot more people still alive. Same with the war against Voldemort before you were born. He just talked and planned and waited until suddenly there was you, Harry."

"Imagine what would've happened if Harry hadn't been there," Fleur murmured. "Imagine if Harry was just another student…"

Sirius snorted. "Until recently, I thought he was." He shot a long look at Harry. "I don't know whether I should be proud of you… or sad and angry with everyone else that they let it come to this."

"Probably all three," Harry replied.

"Each time one of us disappears, they all repeat Dumbledore's words to themselves and go back to doing nothing." Sirius shook his head. "They're waiting for you to be a hero, hoping you die for them, before they die doing nothing."

Fleur's eyes flashed pitch black. "They're not getting their hero!" Little white feathers sprouted from her skin and heat washed across the room. "Little, shallow, hollow, selfish creatures! They could fight back themselves and stop this, but they'd rather watch Harry die than do anything! They don't deserve a hero!"

Sirius sagged. "Dumbledore's spent years talking about love, and sacrifice, and heroes. It's sunk too deep. I tried. I tried. But they're all convinced of it. Harry is their hero. They just have to survive until he saves them."

Until I die. Heroes die. A faint pang echoed beneath Harry's ribs. And they die alone.

"And let me guess," Fleur hissed. "Every time someone dies or disappears, it's Harry they blame, for not throwing his life away for them quick enough." Her skin burnt beneath Harry's arm and the white tufts stretched into full feathers. "I bet they hate him. And even when he wins, they'll only envy that he's better than them and hate him more."

They preferred their jack-in-the-box hero. Harry let his heart sink down into a numb, dark place. Was it really so bad that I didn't want to die alone?

Fleur's hot fingers curled "round his wrist and her ink-black irises bored into him. "Don't waste thought on them. They put you on a pedestal so you would save them, then delighted in tearing you down from it when they thought they didn't need you. Now they want you to throw away your life to save them. You have never owed any of them anything, mon Cœur." She cupped his chin and pressed her forehead to his until the world shrank to just the dark of her eyes. "Don't waste time worrying about their web of selfish little wants. To reach our sunset, we'll cut right through it. "

Sirius cleared his throat. "They're just people. People being people. They do some terrible things and some great things. It takes a bit of time to understand that, I certainly didn't at your age." He sighed. "I wish Moony was still around. He's a serious, miserable bastard nowadays, but other than little Nym, he was the only person that talked to me. Everyone else's gone."

"Who's left?" Harry asked. "What don't I know?"

Sirius shrugged. "Shacklebolt's gone. Disappeared in Yorkshire helping hit wizards in one of the Ministry's victories. Little Nym, of course, and Mundungus, and Arthur. Emmeline Vance vanished a week back." He fell quiet. "Haven't heard from Moony in a while, either, not since Dumbledore suggested it might be a good idea to offer werewolves an alternative narrative to Fenrir Grayback's."

Lupin. Harry caught Fleur's glance in the corner of his eye and gave her a slight shake of the head. If he really cared about me, he wouldn't have vanished for two years without so much as a letter.

"What about everyone else?" Harry asked.

"The Ministry's lost half its hit wizards and there's only a dozen or so real aurors left." Sirius tugged his wand out and toyed with it on his lap. "Voldemort's drawing more and more support from Europe. He's no Grindelwald, but the more desperate or hateful don't really care at this point. If it keeps going, we'll lose."

"I guess you'll need your hero," Harry murmured.

Fleur's nails bit into his wrist and her fingers tightened until his hand turned numb and tingled. "They don't deserve a hero."

"It's the inner circle of Death Eaters that are the problem." Sirius pointed his wand at Harry. "They're all decent in a fight and they know a lot of fairly obscure or nasty spells. Hit wizards are trained to catch smugglers and be able to deflect common curses. Someone like Dolohov or the Lestranges can tear right through them." "Is there any kind of plan?" Harry asked.

"Dumbledore has one." Sirius sneered. "It seems to boil down to arranging a string of dominoes leading to you sacrificing your life and killing Voldemort. The Ministry's abandoned its war of attrition and fortified Azkaban. Amelia Bones sends her squads out from there to crush any raids they learn of and brings anyone they capture straight back to the Dementors. Beyond that, I think the Ministry is buying time to train everyone they can and hope those who oppose Grindelwald come to fight his remaining followers even though they're now beneath Voldemort's banner."

A soft chill slid down Harry's spine. "Has Dumbledore been looking for us?"

"He asked me if I know any secrets," Sirius said. "So I think he must've been and has realized why he can't find you." His expression darkened. "Harry… I don't know what he plans for you, but I doubt it ends any better for you than it has for any of my friends or family. Don't go back." Sirius stabbed his wand out the window. "Leave this damn country. Take Fleur and go. She's right. You don't owe anyone here anything."

"Voldemort and Dumbledore will just come after me." A grim certainty settled on Harry. "And if I run away, Voldemort will just be even more powerful when he catches us."

Sirius sighed. "So be it."

Harry nodded. "I'm sorry, Sirius."

"Don't be. It's not your fault." Sirius tucked his wand away. "I would say don't go back to Hogwarts, but something tells me you're going to, so at least make sure nobody can find you anywhere else."

"I need my NEWTs." Harry offered Sirius a faint smile. "Someone told me that if all I do with my life is try and survive Voldemort and Dumbledore, I'll be as lost in victory as in defeat."

Fleur's grip on Harry's wrist loosened and a fierce tingling seized his hand. "Sorry," she murmured as he massaged some life back into it.

"I'd stay out of London." Sirius's expression turned grave. "The Ministry's finally thrown up a load of wards over Diagon Alley and its headquarters, so no Death Eaters can get in, but that means Dumbledore can easily keep eyes on it at all times." He stood up and stretched. "I'd better head back before anyone notices I've slipped away."

A loud crack echoed through the room and Sirius vanished.

Harry shared a long look with Fleur. Please don't be stubborn about this.

A small smile crossed her lips. "I'll terminate my contract with Gringotts. The goblins are getting shifty, the curse-breakers are annoying, and I don't need to be there anymore. We've learnt all we probably can from their records."

A little sigh escaped him.

"Were you expecting me to argue?" she teased.

"I generally assume you're going to be difficult about everything," Harry replied. "I'm sorry you'll have to give up your lunch time dates with that curse-breaker."

"Such a shame." Fleur's tone shifted dry as dust. "I'll miss him terribly."

"Does he buy you cake?" The lightness he'd intended didn't quite make it off his tongue.

"Harry…" Fleur's tone sharpened a fraction.

He winced. "Sorry. I was being unfair."

"You were." She twisted "round and dropped her head into his lap.

"But can you tell me one single thing I've not done for our dream?"

Harry swallowed, a flash of green and Theo Nott's crumpling body flitting before his mind's eye. "No."

"Exactement." She wriggled about, then swept her hair aside. "They left you with scars, mon Cœur, but all the bits that were cut away are a perfect match for me."

A hot swell of emotion tightened into a knot beneath Harry's ribs and his eyes prickled with tears. "The only perfect thing is you," he whispered. "I'd think this was all a dream, but I couldn't dream up something half as perfect as you."

There's nothing but you. He bit those words off before they slipped out. And without you there'll only be nothing, forever, win or lose.

Fleur pulled his arms around her and closed her eyes. "Just hold me," she whispered. "I'd like to pretend it's still last summer for a while. Like we still have a little time left with nothing to think about but us."

Discord is still a thing. Audiobooks are also still a thing. All the links are on my profile and on discord, including how to support me and read my original works! Discord is the best place to get updates and find about everything I do, so do check it out if you're interested!

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