EIGHT - Maisy Be Helping
Harry was not having the best time. It was second year all over again… Even with Professor Dumbledore's announcement the night following the champions selection. Far too many students refused to acknowledge that he had not entered himself. Whether they truly didn't believe him, or were acting out of jealous spite, he couldn't be sure.
In contrast, Gryffindor was of course absolutely thrilled to have a champion of their own. Though there were a small few that were among the disbelieving group. The majority at least either didn't need convincing, simply believing him outright, or were swayed when Professor McGonagall addressed the house during a meeting. That his closest friends stood by him without so much as a convincing word, meant the world to him.
He'd even been pleasantly surprised when he'd stumbled upon Lavender and Parvati ardently defending him against a seventh year who had scathingly called him a liar and glory hound.
If only the same could be said for the other houses. The Slytherin majority had of course fervently grabbed at the opportunity to cause him grief. They would either outright harass him or comment loudly in his presence. Though were the few Slytherins who left him alone, mainly Davis, or the Greengrass sisters and some from the other years.
The Ravenclaw students generally kept out of it, as they usually do. There was some variation in reaction among the house of eagles, a few scathing looks from students in blue. There were the few encouraging smiles, mainly from those that he was better acquainted with. While the bulk of them didn't seem to really care either way.
Among them, Luna was her usual breath of fresh air. He was absolutely certain that she was far more self-aware than she let on, and that at least some of her comments or behaviours were intentional.
This was reinforced when he was walking with her after class; they were cut off by a group of older Slytherin students. Before things could escalate, she'd made a rather sudden comment about the death eater he'd nearly killed, and that wrackspurt's must be making their brains fuzzy.
A fact that was a cause for alarm for him, since that was a detail she should not have known.
When questioned by him, she'd completely denied everything, and then asked him if he was feeling alright… When she recommended he wear earrings made of sprouts, he could have sworn that he saw her hide a smirk.
The house whose reaction really surprised him and not in a good way was Hufflepuff. He'd always maintained a friendly relationship with those he'd interacted with over the years. They were also a generally kind-hearted bunch. Even in his second year, their behaviour had been more fearful of him than hateful.
Sure, he could understand that they felt slighted. Hufflepuff was often looked down upon, so to have the school champion be a puff was a proud moment for them. But to be accused of trying to steal their thunder… As if him being chosen was an intentional move on his part, with the sole purpose of ruining things for them.
The fact that they'd even thought he would do so, was honestly hurtful. Especially when some of the accusations were coming from people he'd considered friends of a sort.
Cedric claimed to have spoken to his house, explaining the discussion that was held in the antechamber.
It made absolutely no difference.
Some members of the staff didn't even believe him. Of course, they didn't say anything, but he was certainly being given quite the cold shoulder. Most notably was Professor Sprout, she practically bordered on passive aggressive during the few herbology classes he'd chosen to attend.
But worst of all was a small group of students, made up mostly of Hufflepuff's and Slytherin's who had gone so far as to try and jinx him in the hallways.
It was an already irritated Harry who stepped inside the small classroom for the wand weighing ceremony. He'd been minding his own business as he walked alone when he'd run into a group of puffs who blocked his way to jeer at him. Seeing Susan Bones among them was just the icing on the cake.
The other champions were already waiting inside, along with most of the tournament committee, Mr. Ollivander, and a garishly dressed woman accompanied by a cameraman. He groaned internally, just what he needed right now. Publicity.
He was grabbed on the arm and pulled aside as he tried to join Fleur and the rest of the contenders at the back.
"Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet. Spare some time for a short one on one interview Harry?" asked the woman, with a false saccharine voice, much too close for his comfort. His nose stung with the sickly sweet perfume that she wore. It reminded him far too much of the stuff Aunt Petunia would wear on her and Uncle Vernon's outings.
Harry tugged his arm free, taking a step away from the woman.
"Sorry, not interested, and please don't speak to me so familiarly."
"Ah but Harry-" continued the woman, ignoring his request and appearing unfazed by his hostility, "-the readers are just dying to know how you managed to enter?"
"I didn't."
"You can tell us the truth Harry."
"It is the truth. I didn't enter," affirmed Harry, his already poor mood worsening.
"Do you think your parents would be proud that you're a champion, or ashamed of your methods?"
"I don't have to listen to this."
Unwilling to deal with the woman any further. He ignored her attempt at a follow up question and walked to the back of the room. Fleur's welcoming smile done wonders for his mood.
"That's Skeeter, you can't trust a word she prints, unfortunately there are tons of fools who believe her drivel," said Cedric, also annoyed at the woman's presence.
"She is not reporter. She is snake. I know this type, have seen before, many times. It does not matter what you say, they will twist," said Viktor disdainfully, obviously familiar with the press.
Harry took a deep breath before smiling at Fleur who rubbed his arm comfortingly. "Let her write what she wants. The people who matter know the truth, and they won't be swayed by some lousy reporter."
Viktor nodded at his words. "This is right way."
"Are you all free after this?" asked Cedric, focusing more on Harry than the rest.
"I am, why?" replied Harry.
"You did agree to show us a patronus, what better time?"
Harry was about to postpone, but at seeing the hopeful expression on Fleur's face. He didn't have it in him to refuse.
"Fine, fine, we can do it after this is done, but let's get Hermione first. She'll be in the library."
"Merci 'Arry," thanked Fleur, having realized it was because of her that he agreed.
Harry gave her a warm smile while the other two thanked him.
"You're welcome, Fleur."
Professor Dumbledore walked in before they could continue their chat.
"Ah excellent. Everyone is here."
"Champions," said the headmaster, addressing the four. "I am sure at least some of you are wondering what exactly the wand weighing pertains."
Professor Dumbledore gestured towards the Mr. Ollivander.
"Mr. Ollivander here is the premier wandmaker in Britain, and I daresay one of the finest in the world."
"He has kindly agreed to evaluate the condition of your wands. If everything is in working order, he will give his approval. But in the event of any irregularities, best it is corrected now. We can't have you competing with a misbehaving wand, now can we."
"Are there any questions?"
Their silence was taken as the go ahead.
"Garrick, you may begin," said Professor Dumbledore, as he moved aside.
Mr. Ollivander stepped forward. "Right, well ladies first, Ms. Delacour if you may."
Fleur in all her poise, handed her wand over to the strange man. It was an intricate thing, made of a lighter wood than Harry's, with an elegant handle.
The eccentric wandmaker performed an odd inspection of the wand, at one point even holding it up to his ear.
"Rosewood, nine and a half inches, inflexible, and the core… hmm…"
"A 'air from the 'ead of a veela, a gift from my grandmother," explained Fleur. The reporter seemed to find this detail very interesting if the way she began smiling was any indication.
"Marvellous, I have never had the fortune of working with veela hair before, they are temperamental in the hands of any, but the hairs intended. But to you my dear, a better wand could not be found."
With a swish, the old man produced a bouquet of white roses. "Ah, I was trying for tulips, oh well."
He handed the wand along with the flowers to Fleur who thanked him before returning to her spot beside Harry with a relieved smile.
The wand weighing continued. Cedric and Viktor's both being in perfect condition. Eventually it came to Harry's turn, and as with all things, nothing is ever as simple when Harry is involved.
"Oh, how I remember this wand, " said Mr. Ollivander, with an almost reverent tinge to his voice.
"Holly, eleven inches, supple, with the tail feather of a phoenix. One of a pair. Well maintained."
Harry held back a breath of relief that he hadn't mentioned who owned the other.
There were a few widened eyes at the core of Harry's wand. Though the usage of them was not unheard of, phoenix feathers were still very rare, as opposed to the far more common dragon heartstrings or unicorn hairs found in the wands of most.
"A very unusual combination, rather opposed in nature. Holly tends to the humble, the caring, where phoenix feathers seek out the powerful and ambitious."
"Hmm, I daresay this is one of the strongest connections between a wand and its owner that I have seen in many years Mr. Potter."
The old wandmaker turned the wand over, treating it very delicately.
"It's very reluctantly allowing me to hold it. I believe it would draw the line were I to attempt to cast through it."
"Someone would have to share a significant relationship with you to be able to use this wand effectively."
The old wandmaker had a thoughtful expression before he met Harry's eyes.
"Tell me Mr. Potter, have you ever simply known where your wand was? Been able to feel its presence?"
Harry thought for a moment before his eyes widened, "…I have."
"Please, allow me to try something."
Mr. Ollivander held his hand open palm side up, with the wand resting on it.
"Call your wand to you."
Harry glanced at his wand before staring at the man. "You mean like with a broom?"
"Exactly like that."
Harry held his hand open towards the wand, which began trembling before he'd even spoken. Mr. Ollivander as well as Professor Dumbledore eyed the wand expectantly.
With a firm voice he called it to him.
"Come"
The wand shot out of the man's hand as if it were spring loaded. Harry caught it easily, the wood in his hands felt as if it was singing in joy at what he'd done, a warmth radiating up his arm.
"Spectacular Mr. Potter! Great things I said, great things."
"Well done, Harry, not many wizards are able to summon their wands to them," added Professor Dumbledore while the rest of the room stared in awe. The other two headmasters though were eyeing him warily, while Mr. Bagman looked as if he were about to faint out of excitement.
Mr. Ollivander noticed the expressions on the room's occupants, and always one for theatrics, he spoke.
"The wand chooses the wizard. This we have always known. And like people, wands too have personalities."
Their attention now on him, he continued.
"When a wand meets its owner, it sees something within you… A bond is formed that strengthens with experience. Provided said experience is in accordance with the direction the wand wishes to go, a simple matter if you are true to yourself. The opposite is also true, with experience of the wrong sort, the bond may weaken considerably over time, eventually it may even reject its wizard. For example, were a wand suited for those of a kind disposition be used to inflict harm, it would create discontent. Were the bond to weaken enough, the wand would simply cease to function for the wizard, and were he to force it, the spells cast could backfire."
Some in the room made the connection between his earlier explanation about the nature of Harry's wand, as well as the strength of his bond with it. Professor Dumbledore was especially proud, his usual twinkle present as he watched Harry.
The young man in question on the other hand was barely paying attention as he stared at his wand, it felt, content.
"That will be all I believe," said Professor Dumbledore, wrapping up the session.
Rita Skeeter cleared her throat, drawing the headmaster's attention.
"Ah of course, champions please come together for a photo."
The group, now with Hermione, had decided to use an abandoned classroom on the fourth floor for the impromptu patronus demonstration.
Harry stood in front of them while they made themselves comfortable.
Hermione was seated on a dusty desk alongside Fleur, while they watched him. If the pair were setting rather close to each other on account of the room's coldness, nobody commented.
"The concept behind the patronus charm is pretty simple actually," he started, having stepped into a teacher role.
"What you need to do is find a memory, something that makes you truly happy, it can't be something small. It needs to be the happiest you've ever been."
"Now once you've found that memory, focus on it, and keep it in your mind, let it fill you up…"
"You could also imagine a scenario," he continued, "the point isn't really the memory itself, but the feeling it creates. That feeling is what your patronus is made of…"
The group were paying close attention as he took out his wand. "Now once you've got the feeling down. The incantation is Ex-pec-to Pa-tro-num. Like so."
He closed his eyes for a second, pausing to take a deep calming breath, before opening them again.
"Expecto Patronum"
Fleur's breath caught as the spectral stag formed. It was beautiful. She could feel its light on her skin. Despite the stag giving off no heat, she felt the Scottish chill leave her. She breathed it in, the pure emotion the stag gave off. As a veela she was more in tune with the feel of others magic than the average witch or wizard, and the stag felt like a pure amalgamation of Harry's magic. It wrapped around her and filled her with a feeling of comfort and safety. She could even feel a hint of Harry's feelings towards her in the stag.
She smiled.
The stag looked around, trying to locate the source of danger. Finding none, it walked around the room before moving towards the girls and staring at them for a few seconds before it dispersed into mist, vanishing.
"It's really incredible, isn't it?" whispered Hermione from besides Fleur.
"Oui…" replied Fleur, still stunned at the display.
Harry continued. "Nobody really knows exactly why a corporeal patronus takes the form it does. It isn't necessarily the animal which you're most attuned with as most believe. The thoughts you used to create it are what give it shape."
"Damn Harry, that was some patronus," praised Cedric, while Viktor stared at the spot it disappeared from.
"Maybe sometime you could teach us? I doubt they'd use dementors in any of the tasks though," asked the Hufflepuff.
"Sure, I don't mind," answered Harry with a shrug, "but let's focus on surviving the tournament for now."
It was later that afternoon, when Harry and the girls had decided to go over some of the spells from Dumbledore's book. They were seated around Harry's desk in the hospital wing.
He'd spent a bit of time with Madam Pomfrey while Hermione finished her last afternoon classes and joined him along with Fleur. He was trying to keep up with his healer studies, just because he was in the tournament didn't mean he should completely neglect them. What he learned could also come in handy in the tasks.
"We need a place where we could practice these…" said Hermione, troubled.
"I'd recommend the chamber of secrets, but it's too risky. If one of us got injured while down there, it won't be easy to get help…"
"What is this chamber of secrets?" asked Fleur curiously, as she looked between the pair.
Harry closed Dumbledore's book before recanting the story to her, with Hermione adding in any details he'd accidentally left out. He was so focused on the story, that he missed the darkening expression on Fleur's face as he described the encounter with the basilisk.
"You… went into zhe forest after zhe spiders and into zhis chamber to fight zhe basilisk…" said Fleur softly, anger slipping into her voice.
Hermione noticing the worsening situation, tried to nudge Harry. The young man obliviously continued his explanation. He eventually reached the point where he had pulled the tooth out of his arm.
Fleur grabbed the nearest book and began hitting him with it as she cursed in French.
"Ow stop! What did I do!?" yelled Harry, shielding himself from the angry veela.
"You have zhe death wish 'Arry!" exclaimed Fleur, with the book still in hand.
"S'il te plait, tell me zhis is zhe only crazy zhing you 'ave done…"
Harry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, while Hermione sniggered on the side.
"Stop laughing Hermione! You were with me for most of it!" scolded Harry, drawing Fleur's attention to her.
The bookworm's laughter stopped when the angry veela turned her steel like gaze on the shrinking girl.
She squirmed in her seat, trying to avoid meeting the pair of blue eyes burning in a hole in her head.
"It wasn't our fault…" tried the bookworm.
"Sacre bleu…" moaned Fleur as Hermione blushed.
"They are trying to kill themselves…" complained Fleur in French, darkening Hermione's blush.
She took a deep calming breath before looking at the pair.
"Please tell me about zhe other times, so zhat I know what madness you too 'ave gotten up to…" said the resigned veela.
Harry and Hermione looked at each other nervously, before the bookworm began.
"I guess it all started with a troll…"
By the end of their recollection, Fleur looked as if she was torn between pulling out her own hair or incinerating the two imbeciles in front of her.
"Ermione… You are as crazy as 'Arry…"
The bookworm opened her mouth to deny the accusation, before closing it again, accepting the label.
"Can I see zhis chamber some time?" asked Fleur with a sigh.
"I'd like to see it too Harry," added Hermione.
"Uh sure, there isn't really any time for it now though, and it's pretty filthy," answered Harry.
They were interrupted by the sudden appearance of a house elf.
"Maisy?" asked Harry.
"Maisy wants to be knowing if Master and Missus's be wanting dinner?"
Harry looked at Hermione and Fleur.
It was Fleur who spoke for them. "We would love some dinner, merci Maisy."
Instead of popping away. Harry noticed her squirming.
She seemed caught at trying to say something.
"Is something wrong?" he asked her.
"Maisy is being sorry! I is listening to Master and Missus's speak…"
Before he could respond to this sudden revelation, the little elf continued abruptly.
"I is able to help! Maisy is hearing that yous be needing place to train. Yous's can be using the come and go room!"
It was Hermione who spoke up.
"The come and go room?" she asked, leaning forward.
"It is room on seventh floor Miss Grangy's. House elvses be using it to put stuffs away."
"Room is becoming what yous need."
This sparked the bookworm's interest. "Why haven't we seen this room before?"
"It is hidden miss. Yous must be thinking of what yous want from room and walk three times in front of wall by dancing trollses miss."
"Can you show us this room after dinner?" asked Fleur.
The house elf nodded vigorously. "Maisy can be doing this Miss flowers."
Harry chuckled at the house elf's name for Fleur.
"Thank you," he said, "and Maisy, it's alright that you listened in, we're not mad, but try to avoid doing so. We might be speaking about something private."
Maisy smiled at them, glad they weren't upset with her eavesdropping, before she popped away to get their food.
"So, we just need to think of the room we want and walk in front of this wall three times?" asked Harry, sceptically.
"Mhm Master Harrys," confirmed Maisy.
Harry followed her instruction.
'I need a room where we can train magic.'
'I need a room where we can train magic.'
'I need a room where we can train magic.'
He thought as he walked back and forth three times in front of the wall. It was a gasp from Fleur that had him look up as a huge door appeared. Harry was surprised that it worked, pushed the door open, and stepped inside, followed by the two girls and the house elf.
They were dumbstruck at the sight. What was previously just a wall was now a massive room that was illuminated by braziers filled with blue fire. Harry looked around, in the centre was a duelling circle, while the back wall was lined with training dummies and mirrors.
"This is incredible! How is it nobody knows about this?" asked Hermione in awe from behind him.
"Thank you, Maisy, this is brilliant!" said Harry excitedly, to which the house elf swelled with pride.
"Maisy be's glad to be helping," said the happy elf.
"Zhere is no room like zhis at Beauxbatons," said Fleur. "I see 'Ogwart's 'as its mysteries 'Arry."
"Guess we found our training room," smirked Hermione.
"I guess we did," replied Harry with a smile as he inspected one of the dummies.
"Maisy be needings to go now," said the elf.
The three thanked her and wished her goodbye as she left.
"Do you want to get started now Harry?" asked Hermione.
He nodded. "Might as well, there are a few of spells I want try my hand at."
"Fleur?" she asked next.
"Oui, we 'ave time."
Harry took out Dumbledore's book and paged to the first spell he wanted to start on.
Vocare Fulminata
Lightning summoning charm.
Wand movement is rather exorbitant, start on the far left, with a wide arc. Dangerous. Use a cushioning charm.
"I want to try this," said Harry, showing the entry to the girls.
"Hmm ok, but start small," answered Hermione, while Fleur got her wand out, eager to try the spell as well.
Harry took a spot facing one of the training dummies while the girls took a step back.
He breathed in deeply, before beginning the wand motion.
"Vocare Fulminata!"
He could feel the magic gathering at the end of his wand as it moved. Hermione thought his wand looked like one of those little sparkle fireworks, only much bigger.
Unfortunately, he held the spell too long before releasing it. The little ball of lightning at the tip of his wand exploded, throwing him off his feet.
The landing had knocked the wind out of him. Thankfully the ground was padded, so he wasn't injured. He groaned as his arm kept twitching.
Opening his eyes, he looked up from the floor to see Fleur and Hermione's worried faces.
"Are you alright Harry?" asked Hermione while Fleur moved his hair out of his face.
Despite the situation, he enjoyed the little moment.
"I'm fine," he said, as he slowly sat up, "Feels like my hand's been zapped though, it's all tingly."
He shook off the feeling. "That spell is a lot harder than the notes make it seem…"
"Dumbledore must 'ave kept 'is notes short and left out details 'e thought was obvious…" observed Fleur.
"Do you want to try again?" asked Hermione.
"Yeah, let me just get my bearings straight."
"I zhink I will try first," said Fleur as she walked to the spot he was thrown from.
Harry went behind her, ready to catch her if she was blown back like he was. It was the right call as he caught her seconds later. Though thankfully she had powered the spell a lot less than he did and wasn't flung quite as hard as he was.
She crashed into Harry's front as he wrapped his arms around her waist, preventing a fall. Hermione rushed over, getting around them and checking Fleur for injuries.
"I am fine 'Ermione…" she breathed out, her arm now tingling as well, "Arry was right, zhe spell is 'ard…"
Hermione let out a breath of relief, moaning. "What will I do with the two of you…"
"Shower us in praises?" asked Harry from over Fleur's shoulder. The French veela had made no move to get out of her spot in his arms, and the young man wasn't about to complain.
Fleur gave Hermione doe eyes at Harry's answer.
"Oui, praises are nice."
The young woman sighed, exasperated. "Are you two going to try again, or keep cuddling?"
"You are welcome to join us 'Ermione," said Fleur teasingly as she leaned into Harry's arms, his cheeks darkening.
Trying to hide her blush, Hermione continued. "Maybe I will try the spell."
"Don't worry 'Ermione, I am sure 'Arry will catch you… Or do you want me to?" asked Fleur, enjoying her shyness.
The bookworm ignored her and took up a spot facing one of the training dummies.
Fleur turned her head to the side and kissed him on the cheek before moving off from him.
"Thank you for catching me 'Arry."
Harry smiled at her as they moved behind Hermione, ready in case she messed up the spell as well.
They were surprised when a bolt of lightning shot from her wand, frying the training dummy.
Fleur tackled Hermione in a hug catching the bookworm by surprise. "C'est magnifique 'Ermione!"
"That was brilliant," said Harry grinning at her display of magic. She was very good at getting spells right the first time around. He thought of her performance in their classes.
Where Harry performed magic in an instinctual manner, working more from feeling. Something he's had to temper since he began studying healing, it being a liability with some of the spells that require very precise planning and control.
Hermione on the other hand approached spellcasting with a clinical eye. She'd rehearse the steps over and over in her mind, visualizing each until she was completely confident. This same confidence carried over to her usage of the magic, preventing her from wavering. His approach to magic is what makes him so good in dangerous situations, by acting instinctually, he is able to react faster. Whereas in a more structured environment, he knew Hermione had him beat.
"It was nothing… I just learnt from your mistakes," said the young woman shyly.
"Non 'Ermione, the spell is not easy, you were amazing," said Fleur, preventing the beautiful girl from downplaying her accomplishment.
"She's right," said Harry, backing up Fleur.
The bookworm smiled at them, before she began explaining to them exactly how she was able to pull it off.
Harry held in his laugh, while Fleur smiled, the pair knowing that she rushed into the explanation in order to hide her shyness.
The three of them continued practicing until they could cast the spell without mistakes. Both Harry and Fleur were still knocked back, but they were succeeding more than failing now.
Even though he had spent an annoyingly long time being thrown backwards, and with an arm that felt he'd spent the afternoon arm wrestling an electric eel. He was seriously enjoying the training session. Right now, he was taking a breather while sipping on a bottle of water he kept in his bag.
Across the room, Fleur was flung back into Hermione's arms, knocking them both over. The pair were laughing from the tangled mess of arms and legs on the floor. He smiled before walking over to them.
"Water?" he asked from above them.
"Oui," said Fleur, taking the bottle from him. She drank a bit before handing it to Hermione who finished it.
"I think we should call it here, it's getting a bit late," said the pretty bookworm.
"Fine by me," answered Harry with a shrug, "Fleur?"
The French veela nodded with a smile, holding out her hand for Harry to pull her up.
Hermione done the same with her free hand.
Harry and Hermione walked Fleur back to her carriage, enjoying every moment of each other's company. The Gryffindor pair didn't like the idea of her heading back on her own in the dark. Despite Fleur being an amazing witch, and despite the carriage being within Hogwarts grounds, the thing was stupidly parked right by the forest.
Harry didn't show his worry, but with his name having come out of the cup, there was likely someone in the castle who had it out for him. The most suspicious was Moody… Dumbledore trusted the guy, but so far, every defence professor has tried to either kill him or wipe his memory.
Granted Professor Lupin didn't exactly do it willingly, what with the whole werewolf thing. Still… He wasn't taking chances.
He palmed his wand while when he was outside the castle at night, and with the jinxes that had been tossed his way he's had to do the same between classes.
Hermione was laughing at something Fleur said as they reached the Beauxbatons carriage. There was just enough time to make it back to castle before curfew.
"Bonne nuit, 'Arry, 'Ermione," said Fleur giving them both a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She smiled at their blushes and was surprised when Harry kissed her back.
"Goodnight, Fleur," he said.
Hermione, emboldened by his display followed suit.
It was a beaming Fleur who stepped into the carriage.
END CHAPTER EIGHT
Future chapters of my work are available in advance on my P atreon (Office_Sloth), please consider supporting my work. You'll have my utmost gratitude. Link can be found in my profile.
