A/N: Hello people and welcome to a fun, light-hearted fic with Harry, Fleur and friends! Part 8 of many to come!
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When next Harry saw the sisters the following day, Gabrielle immediately sought him out, bounding over to his side with a look of trouble upon her face. Before the words had even come free of her mouth, he knew she was intending on teasing him.
"You are wondering what Fleur 'as done to me as puneeshment, no?" Gabrielle cocked her head up at him and bounced on the heels of her feet, her bottom lip pinched inwards until she spoke again. "You could 'ave asked to come 'ad you wanted to."
Harry had guessed right, and so he looked at Gabrielle, distinctly unimpressed at her attempt. Such a low level of teasing, he'd long since grown immune to. It was Fleur's passion after all, and so he shrugged in response to Gabrielle's words. "I can only reckon it involves a red bum."
Gabrielle began to sputter, embarrassed as her eyes widened upon hearing his remark, and then she huffed, quickly recovering. From there, she poked him in the chest with one sharp-feeling finger. "And 'ow 'ave you become as eemune to words 'as you 'ave to our allures? Now zere ees leetle to tease you weez," she pulled him over to a chair, pushed him into it and sat atop him whilst Fleur was still in the loo; she'd be kicked off as soon as her big sister returned. "Tell me, yes? 'Ow 'ave you achieved so 'igh a teasing level?"
High teasing level, Harry repeated internally. Apparently, Gabrielle had coined a phrase for it now.
As for his answer, he shrugged. "Reckon I've been around you and Fleur long enough, yeah?"
"Long enough eemplies zere weel come an end, no?" Gabrielle folded her arms atop her perch, a mirth filling her eyes as they bore into those of his own. "No end. Now tell me, 'ow much experience you needed to get to ze level you are at."
Harry blinked at her. How much experience he needed to ge— oh. Right. Gabrielle loved her Muggle games, and so that likely related to those; Dudley played them too, but Harry'd never been given the chance. He'd only seen his cousin when the larger boy would get annoyed and throw the device, before retrieving it and playing once more with swears muttered all the while.
"A lot?" He wagered that was a good answer.
Gabrielle made a noise of understanding as she continued peering down at him. "I 'ave made up my mind," she poked him as she'd done earlier, and giggled when he made to intercept her hand with one of his own. "I am Gabby now to you, yes?"
Harry snickered. He'd earned the right now, apparently. "Sure, Gab—"
"Gabby! Zat's my spot, you leetle—" Fleur had made her exit from the loo and immediately interrupted Harry as she sought out her sister with her hands outstretched menacingly; a tickle fight, it'd be.
One that he was caught right in the middle of.
The Second Task was approaching, and Harry remained clueless as to what it'd bring with it, his lack of knowledge hanging heavily upon his mind. That clue each champion had been given, one he'd been assured would help him, had thus far proved useless to him — the screeching was unintelligible, and so if any message were present therein, it was one he had yet to understand.
Maybe it required a spell the likes of which he'd not yet been taught. Given Fleur hadn't cracked the case either, he doubted that was the issue, but there had to be something the pair of them were missing. He just didn't know what it was, and Fleur, who'd been spending every possible moment she could alongside him, had also come up empty thus far.
But that didn't mean the situation was hopeless. No, neither Harry nor Fleur had so much as considered giving up, the pair had simply doubled down in their search for the truth, and they'd not stop until they found it.
Such was the reason the two were sat in her room, alone, and with a silencing ward up around them. Others might suspect something suspicious or romantic, but for the pair, it was simply to stop the screeching from reaching beyond the confines of Fleur's walls.
"Ready?" Fleur had opened her mouth wide and all but hollered the question to him, but Harry only just heard her.
The earmuffs she'd made with a flick of her wand for the pair of them worked wonders. "Ready," he returned with an exaggerated nod. His hands rose to hold the earmuffs in-place then; even if there wasn't a chance they'd be blown off, he remembered the screeching enough that his hands sought out his ears of their own volition.
Fleur took in a deep breath, extended her hand, and then, let loose a stream of fire. It was the first time Harry saw her use the magic that was inherent to her up close, the only other instance being that in which she and Gabrielle had been fighting for their lives. Unlike most others thought, she didn't transform the moment she used her Veela fire. There was no lengthening of her nails into talons, no beak formed, nor wings.
She still looked like Fleur, only with flames exiting her hand and splashing over the egg. As for that aforementioned egg, kept in-place on the table before the pair as it was, the thing seemed untouched. There was no sign of it turning red or orange as objects oft did when held under an intense heat, nor did it crack or show any outwards damage of any kind.
Harry, tentative and slow as to not be burnt, lowered one hand from its spot atop his ear and set about holding a piece of wood up against a portion that wasn't actively inflamed. Sure enough, the tip of the piece in contact, began to smoulder and burn. As soon as Fleur saw alongside Harry that the egg was hot enough to cause an item in contact with it to burn, her flames stopped, and then, without delay, she opened the egg; Harry's hand that'd moved to test the heat immediately returned to its spot covering his ear.
It was a good thing too, for the sound of screeching returned as soon as the egg was opened. Sans the earmuffs, Harry reckoned his ears would have bled this time… Merlin, even with them, the sound was jarring.
Fleur closed it, huffed, and then set her head atop his shoulder. He could feel her breath splash against the base of his neck as one of her arms came around to pull aside his earmuffs before settling around his person. "Even zees was weezout result. We must try more."
"We'll figure it out, I'm sure." Harry hadn't a doubt in his mind, and if the need arose, Hermione could be brought in to aid them; together, they'd figured out more challenging mysteries, and when they were younger to boot.
Initially, Fleur was silent in response to his words. The only sign that she'd heard him being the hand that belonged to the arm she'd put around him caressing his side. "Eef eet ees not fire zat eet needs, maybe eet ees ze sky?"
Harry nearly shrugged, until he remembered where Fleur's head was resting. "Maybe," he agreed, ready to try just about anything if it'd get them so much as a chance at results. "We could try it, I'll just need to grab my broom."
"Are you sure?" Fleur's other arm came to wrap around his person, interlocking the fingers thereof with that of the hand that'd initially slithered around him. "I could 'ave you taken eento ze sky weez me. Would eet not be fun to fly weezout a broom?"
It was a tempting offer, but Harry reckoned he quite liked the feeling of control a broom gave off.
And so with a snicker from Fleur as he declined, the pair rose — with her arms remaining around his person, making it quite the fun process to walk, not that she minded — and headed out from her room.
Their next stop was the space on the far side of the lake lest others watch them.
Harry sighed when he saw Fleur shake her head from below, her hair whipping out thanks to the wind. The idea of dropping the egg from someplace high, had been proven a bust. They'd tried it half a dozen times unlike when they'd used flames earlier; this wasn't half as dangerous, after all. Each try had seen him rise higher and higher, and each time, not so much as a hint of difference had been noticed.
He made a dive then, intent on joining Fleur on the ground for the final time. They'd have to decide what was next on their list of options, ever-shrinking as it was.
A few seconds later, Harry found himself but a few feet away from Fleur with his broom in his grasp. He stretched as she made to move closer to him, the egg held close to her chest and without so much as a scratch from the abuse it'd been put through thus far. He'd been in the air a good thirty minutes, dropping it over and over again, and still, it looked unfazed. Really, it seemed the only thing that'd come of their effort was Harry's back feeling a bit stiff.
She closed what remained of the distance quickly, one of her arms dropping from the egg in favour of grabbing hold of one of his hands. Such was the norm now regardless of where they found themselves given the Yule Ball had confirmed what most had already suspected.
"What's the plan now?" Harry asked as she started them off back down the trail they'd come half an hour earlier; as before, there were no peers of theirs present from any of the three schools.
"We 'ave attempted to open eet een ze sky, and weez flames. Next we could try below ze ground, or ze water — I must say ze water ees not preferable," Fleur's words were still spoken hopefully, no sour lilt present in her voice, much less her actions as she swung their hands, held together as they were with fingers interlaced and all, betwixt them. The only negative came at the mention of water.
He supposed that made sense too, given what he knew of Veela. They were beings of fire, with Fleur's 'ice' a very rare condition that saw them essentially and using her words, 'cursed'. Even then, with ice on her side to some degree, water wouldn't be her friend. She was more likely to harm herself or whatever was very near her if she attempted to use those powers whilst submerged and fire, obviously, couldn't manifest below the surface.
"Some hole in the ground, then?" Harry wondered where he'd be able to find such a place without needing to make one himself, but one look beyond the lake, to the forest that all but surrounded Hogwarts gave him an answer right quick. If any place had a hole that'd be right and proper deep, it'd be the Forbidden forest.
"Eef zat ees preferable."
Harry nodded to the forest, the bit beyond Hagrid's shack as it came into their line of sight. "We could go there if we don't wanna make one," he looked around at the ground surrounding them. It was a mixture of sand and dirt, or rather, mud. Further along the path would see them find more solid ground that'd likely prove easier to make a deep hole therein. "Reckon the water making the mud as sloshy as it is might be a bit of a problem though, unless we wait until we're closer to your carriage."
The pair stopped walking, the sudden stop of Fleur's feet upon the ground forcing Harry to match after a step or so, lest he pull her along. He looked her way then, curious at what'd made her pause; the expression on her face made him immediately inquisitive.
It was recognition, incredulous recognition, and then her face turned decidedly dreadful. "Ze water. I knew zere was a reason eet felt so familiar, and Cedreec, ze remark he made ze previous day to us, eet makes sense now, no?"
Harry blinked. "Does it?" He still remembered what Cedric had said, and so he recounted it aloud, hoping she'd pick the part which he was meant to take notice of. "He told us to take the eggs to the Prefect's bath and get in the water."
At the time, he'd thought the other boy was poking fun at them, but Fleur hadn't thought as much, such was the reason she'd given him a word of thanks before leaving with Harry by her side to go back to the carriage.
"Ze water. 'E 'ad 'elped us," Fleur pulled Harry's hand. "Come."
And like that, the pair were arm at a new pace, with Harry asking Fleur what she meant all the while.
Her only answer?
Wait and see.
It didn't take very long for the pair to reach the Hogwarts, and then they ascended the stairs thereof, going up and up until they reached the floor that had their destination. Upon doing so, Fleur pulled him through the archway, and passed a couple of Prefects that made to stop and watch the bustling pair. They were upper-years that Harry wasn't remotely familiar with, but that didn't stop them from speaking lowly to one another; he reckoned there'd be more gossip by the end of the day given one of them wore Hufflepuff's colours.
He didn't see the group for very long though, not with how quickly Fleur had them moving about.
Not even fifteen seconds after they'd stepped out from the stairwell, they were turning down hallway after hallway, their pace all but a jog as Fleur navigated the halls — and not expertly either. They would pause for a moment as she seemingly recollected something, and then she'd use her hold of his hand to pull him along when she remembered.
Eventually, this would end as the pair stopped outside the Prefects bath. It was a place Harry only knew about, never having gone therein himself.
"Wha—"
Fleur pointed to the passage and said aloud a password; he hadn't a clue as to how she knew it… and it turned out, whatever she said hadn't worked. So the pair stood there, looking at the spot where they knew an entrance was, but neither… seemed…
Wait. Harry swore Cedric had added something under his breath before the pair had left. At the time, he'd chalked it up to Fleur's allure making the boy say a few random words, but maybe that wasn't the case.
He'd mentioned the Prefect's bath, after all, and just about any door in Hogwarts that wasn't to a class or closet required a password.
So Harry stepped forward and repeated the two words the other boy had said. He wasn't sure it'd work, but anything was worth a try — if this didn't work, they'd have to go someplace else. Maybe the Beauxbatons carriage had baths.
But thankfully, that wasn't a worry that came to fruition, for the passage opened.
Fleur kissed his cheek and clapped her hands together. "So smart," she cooed before pulling him forth, into the Prefect's bath that closed shut behind them. "Ze baz, eet ees more zan large enough to feet ze boz of us comfortably, and far better zan ze one een my room," she entered, and dragged him in behind her. "Come, I 'ave ze egg and we will 'ave our answers."
She didn't so much as give him a chance to continue his question before that soft, cool hand of hers pulled him past the entryway of the bath, and to the tub itself. The heavy, magical door closed and locked itself behind them after a few seconds' time.
Now before the water as the pair were, Fleur looked him over after ensuring the door was indeed locked and the bath, empty, her eyes tracing him from his feet to his face.
"You would not be embarrassed to baze weez me, no?" Her head was cocked to the side as she asked her question, and a faint redness was prevalent on her cheeks.
"Bath with you? Like in our knickers or…?" He paused. "This is still about the egg, right? I thought you under—"
As she'd done when he'd initially made to ask what the plan was, Fleur interrupted him. "Why would we need zose?" she laughed and shook her head, as if his question had been absurd. "And yes, of course eet ees about ze egg. Ze sound - ze reason we cannot understand eet, ees because eet ees not meant to be understood above ze ground. I should 'ave recognised eet sooner. Zey are merfolk. We 'ave met weez zem many times een ozzer countries zat do not enjoy our kind."
Finished answering his questions, she tapped a set of stones inlaid along the bath's wall that tapered into the softer, sleeker type of material the bath was made from; it seemed nicer than that which he'd been accustomed to at Hogwarts. Harry supposed that wasn't all that surprising given it was Prefects bath, but that did beg the question of how Fleur had learned the passcode, and why she knew her way around the place as well as she seemed to.
He turned to ask her, but when he was still silent and right before he could get a word out, she smiled wide at him and gestured for Harry to approach the bath. "You are not bozzered? I would not 'ave you pressed eento saying yes eef you would be uncomfortable."
Harry's question was pushed further back as he couldn't help but smile at her words. Here Fleur was, having rushed the pair of them off to the Prefects bath, a place which she shouldn't have access to, and now, right before they'd pop into the bath together, she was asking if he was fine with it. Of course, after she said knickerless.
He'd be an idiot if he said no, wouldn't he?
"It's fine," he cleared his throat after it sounded a touch off, and spoke again. "I'm not bothered."
Fleur dipped her head. "I am glad," and with those scant few words, Fleur turned and stripped, her clothing thrown off to the side, near-enough to a stone bench to not be forgotten. There wasn't any preamble, any teasing, she simply pulled the garments off without so much as a word spoken aloud. Then, continuing silently and still not so much as a look his way, she climbed over the tub's wall and lowered herself into the steaming water.
All the while she did so, he was given a view of her rear. He'd want to say he made an attempt to look away, to respect her privacy or what have you, but that wouldn't be the truth. Not in the slightest. Harry's eyes had been locked on her from the moment she'd stripped until she'd tucked into the bath, disappearing below a layer of bubbles.
"Do you not plan to come een weez me?"
When those words broke the silence save for the sound of water splashing around, Harry shook his head to bring some semblance of sentience back to himself. It was hard, but he managed it after blinking a half dozen times at Fleur. This was Fleur. He'd gotten used to her teasing, and besides, it was just a bit of skin, yeah? Even if she was the fittest witch in all of Hogwarts, he was used to this by now.
He turned away from her as she'd done and began unbuttoning his shirt as he responded. "Had to abide by ladies first, didn't I?"
Fleur giggled, and he heard a splashing, then he felt hands — wet as they were — pulling up his shirt from behind. He knew what that meant, and after a breath, he let her pull the material over his head before turning around. Harry was greeted with an unimpeded view of her upper body, one he took in completely, and then he motioned for her to step back.
When she did as he asked, her cheeks very noticeably red when she failed to get the type of results her teasing oft gave her, Harry took off what remained of his clothing and climbed in after her. As he descended the steps, he ushered Fleur further back in the bath to make space for him so he'd not bump into her given how close she still was, and as he did so, the pretty blush upon her cheeks grew brighter and more obvious still as she seemingly remembered herself.
It seemed his being unfazed by her nudity or his own had made Fleur grow more embarrassed than she'd otherwise be. The older girl sank into the water as she increased the distance from her to him, Fleur's cheeks so red he reckoned it impossible for them to grow any brighter.
With the egg between them as it was, and the pair looking at one another, he expected something to happen, anything. But nothing did.
Silence. Splashing. More silence.
Harry swallowed. He was still unfazed by her boldness and nudity, but now, it was just a bit… weird, yeah? The two were sitting together in a bath, the egg between them and sat at the bottom of the stone, and not so much as a word had been said. So he cleared his throat and fixed Fleur — extremely red and embarrassed as she seemed to be — with a look lest this went on forever.
"Are we opening it?"
"Opening eet?" Fleur parroted, her accent seemingly heavier. She 'swam' a smidge closer, her foot brushing his, and making her jolt before the contact was reestablished; he found it extremely adorable how that need for contact was present even when she was the reddest she'd ever been. "Oh. Ze egg. Yes — yes, I weel do eet."
As Harry snickered to himself on account of her behaviour, Fleur's thoughts went elsewhere.
Yes, as she made to open the egg, her thoughts were focused on Harry, and more specifically, how he was handling their bathing. Fleur had thought he'd be embarrassed or nervous, unable to form words — maybe he would even be as red as she had become. And yet, somehow, that wasn't remotely the case. Harry had handled it all with a maturity and newfound confidence she couldn't help but like… even if it made her feel flush as could be as a result thereof.
"Zere," Fleur said as her fingers found purchase in the egg, "You are ready?"
"Ready." Harry moved a smidge closer.
Fleur acknowledged his response with a nudge of her foot against his own, and then those deft hands of hers opened the egg. Thus, it was together, with their heads under the water and all but pressed up against one another, that the two heard a song of a most serene quality.
Finally, they'd found the egg's secret.
When the pair took their heads back from out of the water, and pondered, silently, the message they'd been sung, they each came to the same conclusion. Their next task, if it wasn't obvious enough already, would take place underwater. Harry didn't find that to be too terrifying a thought, but Fleur was absolutely panicked; her abilities of either kind would be useless in the depths.
That wasn't to mention what thing of value would be taken from the pair that they'd have to go and retrieve. Would it be another egg-like item, or something more personal? If the answer was the latter, when would it become noticeable?
"What're you thinking?" Harry couldn't help but ask Fleur, breaking the silence that'd befallen the pair as each thought about the meaning of the message.
She cocked her head and raised a hand, brushing aside the strands of blonde hair that'd covered much of her face. After she did so, Fleur rose from the water completely and sat on the edge of the tub; she kept the egg in the water, finally finished keeping it closeby. "I zeenk ze next task weel be not so great for me." After those words were said, she looked away, seemingly remembering then she was still without a stitch of clothing.
Harry hadn't forgotten as he drifted closer. "We can handle it. We beat the first task, didn't we? That was a dragon. One for each of us, and here we are," he made a wide, sweeping gesture as finished speaking, confident as could be in what they'd accomplished
And then he seemed to realise how close he'd gotten to Fleur. Harry's eyes drank in the soft skin of her thighs. They were bigger than his own too, and curvier. He reckoned this was what the other blokes always talked about when they spoke about witches, well, that an—
"What?" Fleur batted her eyes, peering down at him as her confidence finally seemed back to where it oft was. "You 'ave only now seen 'ow curvy a weetch ees, no? I 'ave ozzers to match zat, and ozzers zat are even better."
At that, Harry could but blink. Fleur was… well, she was certainly something, and her beauty now that he'd seen it in its entirety, was most certainly unparalleled.
Not so much as one witch he'd seen before could even come close.
When Harry woke, his eyes heavy with sleep crust and an incredibly comfortable heat surrounding him, he felt like he'd had the best rest of his life. That was furthered when he felt a hand, soft and cool and feather-light in its touch, stroke his hair time and time again, the fingers thereto only just massaging his scalp.
He was tempted to remain 'asleep' til the end of time if this was the treatment he'd get. Especially when Fleur began to hum a soft melody whilst continuing her stroking atop his head. When that sounded and the blanket of warmth that'd wrapped around him shifted, a soft coolness pressing into his side more forcefully, he half thought he'd died in that bath from the day prior.
That was the only way he could explain the state of bliss that'd found him… until he remembered he'd gone and sought Fleur out for further studies together. He'd been right tired though, the inability to sleep after the revelation and sight he'd seen had prevented him from getting so much as an hour's rest.
Well, until he'd apparently fallen asleep atop Fleur's bed; he'd pulled a Gabby, he had. But by Merlin did he now understand how and why the younger girl would do as she so oft did. Fleur's affection was second to none, and whilst some would probably consider it overbearing or the like, Harry soaked up all the affection like a sponge might.
But, like all things, the moment eventually had to come to an end and so Harry yawned, alerting her to the fact that he was awake once more. Much to his pleasure, the petting atop his head didn't miss a beat in its continuation, and Fleur didn't cease her cuddling under the heavy, multiple layers of blankets either.
"Watching me sleep, were you?" Harry's morning voice was deep, and his hands brushed past Fleur as they rose to clear the remnants of sleep still in his eyes; he was blind enough without their presence as it was.
Fleur made a noise of affirmation, yawning herself, before verbalising her answer. "Yes," she yawned a second time and shot him a faux glare as she did so, one delicate finger poking him in the ribs. "Yes, I 'ad not ze 'eart to wake you. You are too cute een ze bed and smozzered under ze blankets."
Upon hearing such words so early in the morning, Harry shook his head and made to rise. "Too cute, right. Did you catch any sleep yourself?"
"I 'ad to watch for predators."
That was worrying. Maybe she was teasing him, or maybe that was more of the Veela instinct side of things she'd made mention of before. Either way, after a few seconds' time of thought, Harry figured he would let it slide on account of how cute she'd been this 'morning' with him… but maybe he'd make sure his wand was a smidge closer too.
Elsewhere
As was tradition with the staff of the schools involved during any such tournament, the lounge for Professors of the host school, was full-up with food, drink and company. Most of Hogwarts' staff were present given the hour had grown late, and many of their guests from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons had opted to join them.
The staff from the various schools made merry with one another. They played games of cards or showcased magic. Others would share lesson plans that aided their students best in a given subject, or resources that would make teaching easier — some even theorised new spells or had peers go over their creations, though that was rarer.
And finally, whilst many treated it professionally to the uttermost, there remained a smaller group dedicated to relaxing and enjoying the time away from their students, and with those that also sought out light-hearted fun. Naturally, with the hour growing later still and the bottles of firewhiskey diminishing as it had, it was this fun-loving group that touched on a topic rare enough to most.
Relationships.
Not their own, of course. Many of them were either married, or deep in the pit of singleness, but that wasn't remotely interesting to discuss, was it? No, what was interesting to speak about, was the relationship of their students. Who'd end up with who, what drama had unfolded, whether those couples that'd been together years ago were still together; the norm.
The most recent disagreement those gathered had only just got over, was whether or not Hermione Granger would end up with the youngest Weasley boy, or Harry Potter, or even somebody else entirely. Given that it was mainly Hogwarts staff getting involved there, the conversation hadn't lasted too long, but the debate it'd caused had run amuck, given nobody could agree on an answer for the Granger girl.
Whilst most would probably consider that an interesting conversation, the truly interesting one, had been that of the boy-who-lived himself. Harry Potter. Given his reputation, his name and how known he was, most of those present thought he'd have turned out to be the type of wizard to date dozens upon dozens of witches from third or fourth year on.
That hadn't been the case thus far, but he had seemed to grow close to three witches, and three alone. Two came from Madame Maxime's school, which the woman proudly boasted of as she'd claimed the Delacour sisters were beauties of a kind and gentle nature. Vector and Sinistra, had of course claimed Hermione would be who Harry would ultimately end up with given their lengthy history and the closeness they seemed to have with one another — the fact he'd danced with all three gave their points the greatest merit, but there were still others that threw in other names.
Susan Bones from Hufflepuff, Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, the junior Auror Nymphadora Tonks, two witches from Durmstrang — the most unrealistic aside from the final name — and finally, a Slytherin by the name of Pansy Parkinson, one even thought Daphne Greengrass a suitable match for him. The whole niche of enemies turning to romantic relationships was completely overdone, and unrealistic to boot.
And so heated debates abound as disagreements betwixt just about everybody were had.
Even Hagrid, silent as he'd been beside Madame Maxime, had joined the conversation alongside the woman, agreeing with her that Fleur or Gabrielle Delacour would be the one to snag Harry.
His reason? French witches were 'the most beautiful in the world.'
Naturally, he was accused of having a bias.
Harry huffed and pushed aside the tome he'd been reading. There were dozens of ways, all varied and unique, that could see him able to survive underwater. Fleur had focused on studying the bubble head charm, given it was one of the easier spells to learn and she already had a bit of experience with it, meaning she'd be able to focus more time on other spells that could prove helpful. Such was the reason she was currently sitting across from him reading through a book on creatures that were most common or most dangerous, and that lurked in the depths.
It was a subject both she and Harry were far from knowledgeable on, and one that was most very important to see to.
But Harry couldn't help her. Not with him yet to choose how he'd manage to survive being submerged. Mayhaps the bubble head like Fleur would use was viable; it'd certainly be easy given she was actively working on it. Another option was transfiguration. It would be safer once mastered, for the previously mentioned bubble head charm could be popped… but the trade was how dangerous actively practising it could be.
On and on the options would go, from plants that grew gills to a spell that claimed to make one not need to breathe at all, albeit for a limited time and under specific conditions. Finally, at near midday and with Fleur working laboriously before him, Harry opted on picking the easiest route of them all.
One that'd give him time to study all other spells, but one where all of his eggs, so to say, would be in one basket. If it failed, he would have to forfeit the task altogether, or risk death.
He chose the gillyweed, and then, together with Fleur, the pair took lunch.
Harry's mind felt melted with how many words he'd sifted through only to settle on one of the first options he'd been presented with. He reckoned he owed Neville for the hint as it was given.
The second task was only a week away. The thought alone was as exciting as it was dreadful; Harry wouldn't know if he was ready for the task to start until it had, and he was presented with the challenges therein. He could only hope that he and Fleur, together as they'd been, had spent their time wisely. Given the number of tomes they'd read hand-in-hand, he had to think they'd done a wicked job.
Even if her disadvantage had begun to manifest more predominantly whensoever they did actual practice by the lake. As he'd thought and she'd feared, her fire magic was useless, completely and utterly, the moment she stepped into the water — her ice magic was much the same, only all the more dangerous to even attempt.
It nearly switched the dynamic between the two, with Harry worried about Fleur come the start of the second task and Fleur's anxiety worryingly noticeable when her body was fully submerged. It only happened then too, when she was up to her neck in the cold, dark water.
This shift in dynamic betwixt the pair would stop when their practice by the water was finished, as it just had, leaving the pair walking back to Fleur's room aboard the Beauxbatons carriage wrapped in towels and pressed together; this was practice too, he reckoned, for when they finished the second task and walked back to the tent together.
"Your bubble head charm seems stronger than when we started. Reckon I'll have to have you teach me after the task's over." Harry hoped the words would raise her confidence or distract her from what was rapidly approaching.
"I weel teach you any spell zat I know, eef you want me to," Fleur's hair was dry via a spell, but her skin still felt moist as she pressed further against him, seemingly seeking his warmth and comfort. "You know zat by now, no?"
"I do."
Her hand squeezed his and her head rested against his own.
The pair continued in silence, content in the presence and feel of the other.
Harry couldn't believe the time had finally come. It felt like there'd been a build-up to the second task, one that'd been far longer than that of the first, but here it was. As he strolled side by side with Fleur towards the docks that floated atop Hogwarts' lake, he couldn't help but feel a surge of confidence… followed by a renewed sense of worry.
Already, the crowd had begun to form in the stands that'd see down, into the depths of the water wherein the second task would take place. Harry could hear the life of the crowd, the noise of conversation, the yells of those who wished to place bets, and all from quite some distance away.
Oh yes, he and Fleur had shared a quiet breakfast away from the Great Hall or any other public space. Instead, they'd shared a meal, light as it was for neither had too great an appetite, in the quiet, cosy space that was her bedroom. It was a place well familiar to both given the time they'd spent inside of it.
But on this particular day, there had been two noticeable absences by way of Gabrielle and Hermione. Neither the former or latter had been seen since the day prior, and worried as Fleur was, she'd sought out her Headmistress to report her sister's unusual vanishment. Madame Maxime had assured her that all was fine the moment the older woman had been found by the younger, holding up a hand in a calming gesture as she spoke rapidly in French, lest the youthful Veela grow wrathful or too worried, and her instincts burst forth like those at the World Cup.
Defence mechanisms were quite something, especially in the case of the avian women.
Harry shook his head and looked Fleur's way as they continued their leisurely pace towards the Champions pre-task tent. The place wherein the pair would receive the briefing of the task, the order in which they'd go and anything else of note, such as what to do when or if the time came for them to withdraw; it was their decision to make, but it had to be done in a specific way to be recognised by the tournament officials.
"Today's the day, huh?" Harry rubbed the back of Fleur's hand with his thumb as he looked around. "Bit nippy, I'd say. Could've picked a warmer, sunnier one."
Fleur didn't seem to find the typical joy in his levity as she oft did. Gabrielle's absence, even if she'd been assured all was fine and swell, had left Fleur on edge, worried, and distinctly off. More so than she'd already been too, which was a feat in and of itself given the task of water had already weighed heavily over her. It'd been like that ever since the revelation the day of the bath had brought with it.
"Zey could 'ave peeked ze sky again, or ze ground," Fleur's hand tightened around his own, her fingers interlacing with his own. Her voice seemed just as off as the rest of her did too, a strange lilt to it that he couldn't place and hadn't heard before. It was unlike even the time he'd stumbled across her and Gabby at the world cup.
She almost seemed resigned. He reckoned she would be too, if it wasn't for Gabby; she needed her sister, and her sister needed her.
"We'll get her."
Fleur's hand tightened further, but she remained silent as they continued their walk towards the docks. It seemed like it was a touch harder for her to speak, and as she slowed their pace further, he reckoned she needed a bit of time. Harry would allow her that. He reckoned he'd allow her just about anything, really.
So he fell into step beside her as their destination came into view. The occasional whip of wind or birdsong sounded over the crowd which was further away, but the latter remained a constant humming-like noise. One that added to Harry's nervousness more than the coming of the day itself had.
Finally, Fleur swallowed and stood up a touch straighter, her hand essentially kneading his own as their pace returned to what it'd been earlier. "We weel," she leaned in then, pressing her lips against his cheek. They were soft as ever, and pleasantly cool. "Zank you, 'Arry. I know I 'ave been not as I usually am, and eet must be strange, but you 'ave been sweet as you always are, and you 'ave tried to 'elp." Fleur kissed his other cheek with the edges of her lips pulled up, into a small smile.
Harry's smile was wide and toothy, the kisses raising his spirits and resolve. "You said you'd help me, least I could do is return the favour."
"A gentleman," Fleur cooed, a hint of her typical self showing.
He wanted to tease her back, make her blush, something — anything — but as he made to open his mouth, another person beat him to speaking. "Harry! Fleur!" the voice of Cedric called loudly, bringing attention to the pair that'd been walking hand-in-hand and shoulder against shoulder.
Neither made to separate from the other, not even as Cedric approached after having called to them. Instead, they looked his way and hastened their pace towards the privacy the Champions area would provide. Uncaring as they both might be in regards to the rumours that might be furthered with their joint arrival, neither wished to be the recipient of unwanted photos in the Prophet, or under the gaze of dozens of staring eyes.
"Hey Cedric."
"Cedreec."
The two greeted him when he fell into step some few feet away from Harry, doing a loop so as to join them on heading back whence he'd come. "I was wondering when you two'd show up. Krum's not here yet. Cho won't be," based on the sour note in his voice, it was she who'd been taken from him. Harry supposed the pacing he'd been doing earlier made sense now. "You two have a look around yet? It's all I've been able to do until the rest of you got here — that or speak with the reporters. Fancied looking around more, if you can believe that."
Harry snickered. With Rita Skeeter and other press not too much better than her milling about, he couldn't begin to wonder why Cedric's opinion was what it was. "Couldn't begin to wonder why that'd be."
"Ze words zey put in ze newspaper are so flattering, no?" Fleur's voice was deadpanned even as her visage remained one of confident, polite and demure beauty. She had yet to forgive, or forget the scathing words written about her, Gabrielle and Hermione. Gabby's mentioning especially, had seen Fleur far from happy. "Eet ees too bad zey do not 'ave to come down weez us."
That was true. Harry reckoned people like Skeeter would make for good bait.
"Too right," Cedric agreed.
He then led the pair to where the little tent-like structure that would serve as their place of rest until and after the task was. It was more cramped than last time, given it was atop a dock. The position wasn't final either. Harry could see the magic keeping it in position, and he could see further towards the centre of the lake, one stand that was already full-up and waiting.
When the trio reached it and Cedric pushed aside the flaps that acted the part of a door, he spoke again, gesturing towards the back-right corner of the place. "There's a little spot you can peek out from there — was doing it myself earlier when I got sick of walking around and snuck in here to hide out for a bit," he gestured past it then, before they ducked in. "From what I heard too, you'll want to be out here when we start to move."
Harry cocked his head at the other boy's words, but before he could so much as utter a question, Krum was rushing over to them. He'd been ushered as soon as he'd arrived, and then, with nary a pause after ensuring nobody was lingering on the edge, the whole platform began to move.
Fleur's hold around his hand grew tighter and she shot him a look, one that showed just how out of sorts she was in and around the water. This would be the deepest, and further in they'd gone, Harry reckoned as the thing continued onwards, the pace slowly picking up until a steady breeze was prevalent.
And then, it began to submerge.
Cedric turned to make sure he could see the visages of his three fellow Champions when that began to occur, and Fleur, nervous as she was, seemed just as awestruck as Harry and Krum — Cedric too, really, given how quick he was looking to them and back at the spectacle as it happened.
A barrier, thin but present and much like a bubble head charm if upcast multiple times, had formed around them the deeper they grew. Fish of all kinds, little shelled creatures, vines, tendrils that snaked upwards or around the place; all of it was visible as they descended into the water.
And then the place lit up around them. It was a grand viewing that was only obscured in parts, but based on the 'screen' similar to that which he'd seen at the Quidditch World Cup and the boats that were still up above, there'd be a chance for all to view the happenings in real-time throughout the task.
Harry swallowed and reaffirmed his grip around Fleur's hand.
This was it.