Chapter 5: The Act of Love

Jeanne knows what she wants and Harry doesn't know himself

I hope you guys enjoy the chapter- if you want to access more chapters or see my full library, my is always open at

pa - tre - /on/ under the username Pel853

I do not own Harry Potter nor The Fate franchise. I am just borrowing a depiction of a character of theirs.

"Mommy!" A little girl with green eyes and straw blonde hair ran up to her and hugged her, "Mommy's home! Daddy look! Mommy's home!"

Jeanne looked towards the doorway where her husband leaned against, with his arms crossed and a small smile on his face. His green eyes full of adoration and love as he greeted her, "Welcome home, love,"

Then he walked up to her, gave her a long hug, which made her stomach flutter. Then he gave a a tender and loving kiss, which made her knees weak.

She pulled her head back a bit, gave him a smile and replied, "I'm home,"

And this time she was the one who leaned in and captured his lips.

Jeanne D'Arc woke up that morning with a smile on her lips. Such a beautiful dream, the ideal that was her driving motivation for this second chance at life as Jeanne Black. To live simply and humbly, to find a husband who shared her values.

Yet she frowned as she got up and thought about the dream some more. Those green eyes were familiar to her, of course. They belonged to her friend, Harry Potter.

Last night was… full of revelations.

Her friend was a murderer, a sinner. Yet he was precisely the type of person that Jesus Christ had surrounded himself with once upon a time and lifted them of their sins. Because they had wanted forgiveness and redemption.

And just like them, he also wanted to seek to better himself. And now that she had met him, she was beginning to understand why her aunt refused to help her father, even if Aunt Dromeda often spoke her doubts about the idea that Sirius Black would betray James Potter.

And now she was beginning to see why herself. She wondered to herself what had driven her father to become a betrayer. Had it been the moment when Marlene McKinnon and the rest of the McKinnon family were murdered?

What had driven her father to make such a drastic decision that affected so many people? 13 muggles dead, along with Peter Pettigrew, his supposed school friends. The Potters, dead. Their only son now forever branded a criminal because the only family he had, had abused him to such an extent that he broke the fifth commandment, and even though he hadn't said so. Jeanne D'Arc saw it in his eyes, he did so out of fear for his own life.

There was a knock at her door, and her Aunt opened it slightly. The older woman immediately noticed the frown on her adoptive niece's face and asked, "Something wrong deary?"

"Aunt Dromeda," Jeanne greeted her, "Come in, come in!"

The two witches sat down in the blonde's bed as Andromeda asked, "Jeanne, what's wrong?"

"Can I talk to you?" The French saint asked.

Andromeda understood that it wasn't Jeanne Black at that moment asking, but the older more mature side of her niece, the one without the air of innocence or naivety about her that separated the Black Heiress to the French saint.

"Of course, you know I will always be open to you. I may not fully understand you, but I love you regardless," the former black stated.

"I've met Harry Potter," Jeanne stated, and she noticed her aunt tense. What was up with that?

"Oh, how was it?" Andromeda asked, knowing she hadn't been able to withhold her reaction. Questions abound.

"You know him," Jeanne asked her aunt, her eyes narrowing. Then, her uncanny ability to figure things out reared its head as she said, "You treated him at the hospital didn't you? He was the reason you told me to stay cute and innocent forever and to not commit crimes, wasn't it,"

"You're right," Andromeda admitted, "It's just. You should know I saw something I didn't like on him. It made me want to keep you away from him, I didn't even really expect him to move into this neighborhood. And to be honest, I also don't want to try and control you, even if you hadn't been you, I went through that with my parent and you saw how that turned out,"

"What did you see?" Jeanne D'Arc asked her adoptive aunt, wanting to know just what was it about Harry that had made her aunt, a fairly kind woman, have such an adverse reaction to him.

"I don't know if it's something I should mention," Andromeda muttered, adding, "But he has a tattoo of your face on it on his back surrounded by three snakes, one for each of his crimes,"

Jeanne tilted her head at that, it was curious alright. But it didn't mean that her aunt needed to have an adverse reaction. There were likely plenty of people with the same face as her.

"I'll talk to him," Jeanne said in regards to that.

"So what's he like?" Aunt Dromeda said as she pulled her feet into the bed. Deciding to shift the topic away, plus she wanted to know what her niece thought about the boy.

"He's nice," Jeanne said as she allowed the change in topic to happen and copied her aunt's action. She unconsciously started to smile as she said, "He's a gentleman, treats me well. He makes me feel safe with him. He's a good friend, I like him, it makes me sad that he's so lonely,"

"A good friend huh? Honestly Jeanne. I don't know if the fact that you like him says more about you than it does him," Andromeda said teasingly.

"I don't like him romantically, at least I don't think so. Plus, I don't think I could be with someone who doesn't love themselves. How could he love me when he doesn't even have confidence in himself?" Jeanne pointed out, she did actually like him romantically. Her recent dream was proof of that, but she knew her family well and she wasn't going to give them the ammo to tease her yet.

"I know dear, I was just teasing you. But how about this, if he's so lonely, why don't you invite him over for dinner before you leave for Hogwarts?" Andromeda suggested, "For now go get ready though we have to be at Diagon Alley soon enough,"

"Wake up Potter! Inspection time," A Jailer said, banging his jail cell. Harry complied, as he pushed his hands through the slot in the cell and felt the zip ties painfully binding his wrists together.

The door to his cell opened and he was soon dragged out and forced to face the wall as the prison guards went in to raid his cell. He could hear them tossing just about everything up around.

"What's this potter?" One of the guards asked, shoving a box to his face.

"It's just a box of stamps!" Harry replied. Oh how he hated having his hands tied up. He knew no guard wanted to fuck with him normally, but when they had him tied up? It was a different story.

The first night stick came crashing down on his back and he grit his teeth. The second one came down behind his knee forcing him into his knees. Oh well, he knew what was gonna happen next anyways. So he decided he might as well go down with a bang.

So he pushed himself up and headbutted one of the jailers. Then kicked another, but soon he was overwhelmed and beaten bloody. They dragged him to the box and just threw his ass in there.

How long had he been in the box? It was hot, it was cold. Was it day? Or was it already night? He didn't know.

Harry Potter sat up, heaving and sweaty. He threw his legs over the bed and stood up. He took a long cold shower, as the same morning ritual for the past few weeks began. He had a nightmare about prison, he'd wake up all sweaty and he swore he could still smell the stench of HMP Borstal still on him.

He didn't know how much of that was him or if he was losing his mind. He just knew it always took forever to get the smell off him. While alone in the shower with his thoughts, his mind turned to the previous night.

Her words had affected him deeply.

I don't pretend to understand. But if you can't forgive yourself, if the world can't forgive you. I'll forgive you, and I'll keep forgiving you until you can forgive yourself.

He started to take things into account that he knew about Jeanne Black and Jeanne D'Arc. Both were christians, they looked practically the same, same speech pattern and words from what he remembered from his dreams.

But after some minutes taking those into consideration. He dismissed it, even if she was a reincarnation, even if there was a god who for whatever reason had costum made someone for him in the image of the idea he had loved for the past three years.

He still would choose to ignore and suppress whatever feelings he had. Because of what she had done with those words, he knew he was definitely developing romantic feelings and intentions towards her.

But he couldn't, could not give into those. Her family likely would not prove, and he wouldn't blame them either. Hell, if he had a daughter, he wouldn't want her anywhere near someone like him.

So he settled for being her friend, and he knew he'd do anything to protect her and her smile as long as he lived. Yeah, that seemed like a good idea.

He turned off the tap and dried himself off with a towel and got dressed.

He left the village and walked down the road far enough away to summon the knight bus, he still needed to get his uniform order from Madam Malkins and a couple other bits including his wand that were not bought the first time he had been there because the minister had been pressed for time and they needed to do all the media circus stuff which he had hated going through.

He also had to go to Gringotts, as all of the galleons left over from his last trip had been converted to normal everyday currency.

Harry walked out of Olivander's feeling weird. The whole bit Olivander had said about his wand core coming from the same bird that had given the core that powered Voldemort's wand was an odd coincidence.

Plus, having a wand, an object that was definitely a weapon and could be used as such had to be a violation, considering he was a convict. But hey, it's not like he didn't keep a box of flashbangs he had gotten from the Russians last year and a tomahawk as part of his self defense kit.

You know, just in case any of the jailers or chavs wanted to get froggy. The ninety three dominance war was ugly, and he wanted insurance.

Next up was Madam Malkins, which was just a matter of paying for his stuff and getting out. As he was leaving the store, he checked the time on his watch. It was still early, about ten in the morning.

"Harry!" He heard a familiar voice call out to him, and he turned his head in the direction of the sound and saw Jeanne walking towards him.

"Jeanne? Getting some school shopping done?" Harry asked as his friend ran up and gave him a hug.

"Yup, lucky that I ran into you so early," Jeanne said as she let go.

Behind her, another voice called out, "Mind introducing us?"

Harry looked up and saw two familiar faces along with a person he didn't recognize as he said, "Healer Tonks?"

"Surprise," Andromeda said with a smile, "You can just call me Andromeda. This is my daughter Nymphadora, and my husband Ted,"

"Mom! Stop calling me that," the woman named Nymphadora said, crossing her arms.

"Harry, my Aunt wanted to know if you'd like to come over for dinner tonight?" Jeanne asked Harry, Leaning forward a bit with her arms behind her back and giving him wide doe eyes.

His first instinct was to simply say no. But as he looked at her face, he demeanor and then at her family and back at her, he knew he never stood a chance as he sighed, "Yeah, I'll be there,"

Jeanne clapped her hands once and said, "I'll be expecting you,"

Then as she usually did whenever they hung out she grabbed his arm and said, "Now let's go get some ice cream!"

Harry knocked on the indicated door, a couple minutes later the door opened revealing Jeanne who gave him a big toothy smile as she said, "You came,"

"You asked," Harry stated as she pulled him into an embrace, then pulled him inside the house.

She took him straight into the dinner table, where soon food was served and a light conversation settled amongst the Tonks family. Harry himself was mostly quiet as he ate, when suddenly Nymohadora, if he recalled correctly, asked, "Hey, why do you eat like that?"

Immediately Andromeda shouted out, "Nymphadora! Rude!"

Harry looked down and realized why she had asked. His non dominant arm sat around his plate protectively, acting like a shield, Harry forced a chuckle and said, "Sorry, force of habit,"

Then he retracted his arm, which made him feel exposed and uncomfortable as she shrunk into himself.

Jeanne who was sitting next to him stopped eating and rubbed his right arm as she whispered to him, "It's okay, you don't have to do anything you're not uncomfortable with,"

Meanwhile Nymphadora just looked around confused, "What? I'm just curious, doesn't like seem comfortable posture, where do you even learn to eat like that,"

"Prison," Harry said before he even thought about it, it was only a moment later that he realized what he said as the woman with the strange color changing hair looked at him.

"You're a criminal?" She looked quite shocked, then she turned to Jeanne and said, "I knew you were a daddy's girl but I didn't know you'd go as far as to date a convict!"

Harry choked on air, as Jeanne shot back, "We aren't dating, just friends. But at least I'm not the one with a fetish for men old enough to be my father,"

"Jeanne!" Andromeda shouted once again, as Ted just burst out laughing.

Then the muggleborn wizard turned to Harry and asked, "How's Borstal like? I heard about it but I have never been arrested,"

"It sucks," Harry replied, "I never wanna go back in there again,"

"Made any friends there?" Ted continued asking, wanting to know more about the boy who had captured his adoptive niece's very obvious interest.

"I wouldn't say I made many friends," Harry replied, "I mean I did have one but he got killed in an incident a couple weeks back,"

"I'm sorry," Ted replied.

Harry shook his head, "No that's fine. I understand you guys want to get to know me better since I am friends with Jeanne,"

Then he admitted, "I didn't have many friends in there but i am friends with the shot callers of the irish and the russian gangs at Borstal,"

"Gangs? Are you a gangster?" The metamorphmagus asked.

"I mean, I never joined a gang, but I definitely do subscribe to the convict code," Harry explained, "First being no targeting of civilians, that being anyone who is not involved in the lifestyle. No snitching, not getting mad at the police for getting caught, though i've only been arrested once,"

"Ah, so even criminals have a code of sorts," Nymphadora stated.

"Yeah, and anyone who breaks that code is in violation," Harry said, "It's how we keep some semblance of order inside prison amongst ourselves. And anyone who is in violation we handle, we are already persona non grata within society so convicts tend to stick together but we still have some morality about. For example, someone who is a rapist or a baby killer is never going to fit in with us, and we are going to make sure you live every day in fear if you commit such crimes. Something I don't think a lot of people realize is that a lot of us convicts are victims of circumstance. Not all mind you, but some, and we still try to keep ourselves in check and take accountability, with the end goal being we never have to go to prison again,"

After dinner Jeanne pulled Harry into her room and shut the door, then she turned around to face him and told him, "I hear you have a tattoo on your back with my face on it,"

Harry looked around awkwardly, "It's not supposed to be your face on it, though you do like an exact copy of that person,"

"Can I see it?" Jeanne asked him.

"It's on my back I'd have to take my hoodie off and lift my shirt," Harry answered. He was alone in her room and that didn't inspire a lot of confidence in him at the moment. How was he supposed to explain that at twelve he fell in love with the idea of a person who was long dead?

"I don't mind, I just wanna see it for myself," Jeanne stated.

So Harry turned around and grabbed the hem of his shirt and his hoodie and exposed his back to her, but took neither off.

"Wow, that really does look like me," Jeanne said as she told him, "lay down on my bed face first, I want to look at it some more,"

Harry did as he was told, but he quipped, "Narcissistic much?"

"No, I really just like it," She replied as she straddled him and traced a hand over his back.

Her touch sent shivers down his back as she asked, "What do the snakes represent?"

"The two with their fangs out represent the people i killed, while the one with its mouth closed represent the arson charge," Harry answered honestly.

"And my face?" Jeanne pushed on.

"It's not supposed to be you, it's supposed to be Jeanne D'Arc," Harry insisted, adding, "Two years into my prison sentence when I was twelve, I started having dreams about her. She reminds me of you actually, beyond just looks, every time I went to sleep for almost a year I dreamt of her. She was kind and warm, her words were always exactly what i needed to get through… without those dreams I'd probably turn into an animal,"

Jeanne listened quietly, unknown to her companion she was frowning. She remembered when she was that age she had dreams of a little green eye'd boy who was always sad, but in those dreams she always appeared as her older version.

Did that mean they had met in dreams? Her dreams had always had special properties to her as an envoy of god, and without prompting her own tattoo grew warm before it cooled back down.

So they did indeed share dreams. But she listened quietly as Harry continued to speak, "I saw her depicted in a bookmark a french priest used on his bible, and I found out who she was, and I moved a tattoo artist into my cell so I could get this piece done. It sounds silly, but since then, I fell in love with the idea of her. It was the only type of genuine kindness and affection I had ever received, but as you know she's long dead,"

"What else do you know about her?" The black heiress continued pushing.

"She has this tattoo on her back, it's actually what inspired me to get my own," Harry answered.

Jeanne frowned a bit more, nobody outside of her aunt was supposed to know she had that tattoo. Not even her original parents, nor her king or any of the people she had served and fought along side with.

Not one soul… except those bastards who had raped her and then burned her at the stake under the excuse of her wearing mens clothing which was all she had at the time.

Jeanne got off Harry, as she thought about what to do next.

She looked back at him, at his face. She trusted him, but did she trust him enough to share her secret with him?

He had trusted his with her, and even if that wasn't the case, in the short time she had known him. She could tell he was a genuine character, definitely rough around the edges. But he was genuine, and didn't try to hide things from her.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked her, which caused her to make eye contact with him.

She trusted him, trusted him enough with her secret.

She turned around and begin to lift her own shirt up to expose her tattoo to him as she asked him, "You mean this tattoo?"

"Jeanne… you… how do you have that?" Harry asked her, his voice oddly silent and confused.

Jeanne let go of her shirt, letting it fall back down to its proper place and preserving her modesty as she sat down next to him, she looked down at the ground as she told him, "I was once Jeanne D'Arc. Upon my death, my soul was accepted into the House of War. A place where the souls of all heroes of humanity gathered, and my wish was granted. My wish was to live a normal life, to find a husband I shared my values with and have children, and to live freely of being The Maid of Orleans, so I was reincarnated into what I am now. Jeanne Black,"

"I hope you can make all your wishes come true," Harry said to her, then he gave her a hugged and said, "Thank you, even if you don't know it, you probably saved my life and inspired me into trying to change my ways, you've showed me more kindness in a few weeks than anyone has in my entire life, and for that, I hope I can count amongst your friends for as long as we live, and for as long as I live, I hope i can protect your smile even if I have to die for it,"

"Don't do that," Jeanne told him, looking away.

"Do what?" Harry asked.

"Don't act like your own wishes and desires don't matter, I am no longer that woman. It's not my time any longer, I just want to be a normal girl and to be loved and love my husband in turn," Jeanne replied, as she returned the hug, "I do remember those dreams you had because I had them too. And though the lord doesn't answer much when it comes to the relationship between me and you, I think it's pretty clear I'm supposed to be the one helping you, this is not my era, Harry Potter, this is your era. And though I don't know what the future holds for the two of us, I'm supposed to help you, not the other way around,"

"But you've already helped me plenty, I wouldn't be here today if not for you," Harry stated, not trying to argue with her, but just trying to convey his message. He wasn't going to reveal his feeling for her, she deserved much better than a convict like him. Someone who could give her what she deserved.

"You don't get it," Jeanne huffed, "I hate seeing you like this, acting as if you aren't worthy of love, because you are. You are every bit as worthy of love as i am and the fact you think otherwise saddens me beyond anything,"

"Jeanne," Harry muttered but didn't say anything else.

"I told you, I want to be loved by my husband," Jeanne continued, tightening her hug on him, "I want to be loved by my husband and love you, I choose you Harry Potter. This connection between us is undeniable anymore, I haven't felt this with anyone, I haven't felt this protected or safe around any man since you,"

Then she rubbed her cheek against his chest as she asked him, "Do you know what I dreamt about this morning,"

"Uhm, no? What did you dream about?" Harry asked her, he was so close to giving into her and confessing his feelings, to give into her pleas. He wanted to be hers, but he thought about it. Her relatives might be fine with their friendship, but they definitely wouldn't approve of their relationship.

So she told him, holding nothing back, "I dreamt of coming home, to a little girl with my hair and your eyes. She was well loved, as she was so excited to see me come home, and she would yell mama is home, daddy look! Mama is home! And then you were there waiting for me, and you'd hug me and i felt butterflies in my stomach, like I do now, and you kissed me and my knees would feel weak,"

Then Jeanne pulled herself up to be eye level with him and said, "I choose you, to be my husband, but that can only happen if you choose me to be your wife. To accept that you deserve love and that you have mine, and return it to me with your love,"

"What about your Aunt and your uncle?" Harry asked as he pressed his forehead into hers.

"I am sure they're probably listening behind that door right now making bets if we'll get together or not," Jeanne replied, it was just a guess. But from what she knew of them, it was probably true as she told him, "Besides, Aunt Dromeda was a Black once, and before Voldemort we were the most powerful family in all of magical Britain. It was expected she'd marry some rich and proper pureblood and instead ran far away to marry uncle ted, she has no room to talk,"

"Jeanne," Harry started, looking into her amethyst eyes as he said, "Yesterday, what you said yesterday meant a lot to me. You won me over, I don't know what love actually is. But if it is this feeling of sadness and loss whenever you stop smiling, or this pain in my chest when I think about losing you or you being hurt and so much more… so I am willing to be your husband if you are willing to teach me how,"

Jeanne smiled at him and gently placed her hands on his cheeks, and pulled him into a tentative kiss, her first kiss ever.

It wasn't much, just a touch of their lips. And yet for the two of them, it was everything. Jeanne pushed him back onto the bed and continued their kisses.

After a while, she asked him, "Stay the night?"

"Will that be okay?"

She nodded, "Yes,"

She cuddled into him, a sweetheart's cradle with her laying her head on his shoulder and her free arm laid onto his chest, with her hand caressing his cheeks. Her other arm sneaked underneath Harry and held his other shoulder tightly as she drifted off to sleep, and she told him, "I love you, husband of mines,"

It was a couple hours later that Andromeda and Ted Tonks went to check on Jeanne. They opened the door to her room slightly and noticed that she had fallen asleep on top of Harry Potter.

Andromeda closed the door and said, "I don't think they are just friends you know?"

"The way they were looking at each other? If they weren't together already then they're going to be getting together soon enough," Ted replied.

"Don't you think they're moving too fast? Harry might be a good kid but he just recently got out of a damaging and traumatizing situation and Jeanne is his first friend that isn't a criminal," Andromeda asked her husband as they walked back towards their room.

"I think they will be fine, plus, It was always Lily and Marlene's hope that they'd get together, you remember how those two used to be as babies?" Ted replied, adding, "I trust Jeanne to know what she's doing, we loved and we raised her well. She's a good judge of character and she's got a good head on her shoulder and a mean streak with a wand,"

Then Ted said, "And Harry? He needs therapy and understanding."