Madame Maxime's office was as extravagant as anyone would have thought. Whilst Dumbledore's quarters were covered in madcap devices and strange artefacts, his counterpart preferred a more refined approach. At least in terms of the number of objects lining the shelves. But what she lacked in quantity was certainly made up for with the quality. Harry's eyes watered slightly as he considered the price of the ornaments on display, even if he had a massive vault of gold waiting for him at Gringotts.

The room, laid out across one floor rather than the raised platforms of Dumbledore's office, had seemingly gone through a small redecoration to accommodate the guests. Two velvet sofas sat at the back of the room, whilst other seats had been arranged around a table. Maxime had given herself the most lavish chair, in an attempt to convey the power she was holding. But it wasn't as if they were slumming up with the soft padding that greeted them as they got comfortable. The headmistress, Fleur and Margot took one side of the table, whilst Harry joined Sirius, Dumbledore, Matthew and Hermione on the other.

The others - namely Enola, Draco, Daphne, Neville and Ginny - had been granted access to the important meeting, but had been relegated to sofas. With the way they were sinking into the plush cushions, Harry doubted that they were going to complain anytime soon.

Whilst the surroundings were intimidatingly impressive and the situation was laced with pressure, he was still happy to be away from the main hall. There was a great deal less scrutiny to be dealing with, with fewer curious eyes following his every move. The celebrations had been too much for him, a needless distraction that he'd endured for the sake of saving face. But now he had something he could sink his teeth into, besides the sweet treats that had been presented to him. He sat with a straight back in his chair, fuelled by a renewed purpose.

But that didn't mean that there weren't still lingering factors that were taking Harry's eye off the ball. He hadn't been given much of a chance to talk to Margot following their rushed reunion. He'd imagined (and hoped) that he would have been able to avoid that conversation for a bit longer, with the meeting acting as a worthwhile priority. Yet Margot had followed them into the room, quashing Harry's relief, with Maxime clarifying that she assumed the young woman's presence would be a comfort to the guest of honour.

Apparently she'd remembered their brief but close relationship.

Apparently she didn't understand how the mind of a teenage boy worked.

Dumbledore clasped his hands together. "I think we can all agree that your graciousness as host knows no bounds, Olympe."

That was certainly one way of putting it, though Harry kept the grimace from his face. Dumbledore certainly had a lot of faults, but he also had a number of uses. Having been a key player on the international magic scene for countless years, his experience on that front and his practiced charm were a major asset. Harry couldn't have imagined conducting the visit without the old wizard by his side, picturing him saying completely the wrong thing at the wrong time. Even if it was still difficult to view the headmaster in a solely positive light.

Dumbledore taking the lead meant that Harry had more of an opportunity to steal glances at Margot. With Enola sitting behind him, it felt like he was being closely monitored but, unless she had a skill she hadn't yet revealed, she wasn't going to know where his gaze kept landing. Whenever he and the French girl happened to meet each other's eyes, she seemed to smile, which Harry took as a good sign. Though she might have been silently laughing at his clueless efforts to survive the ordeal.

One person who was definitely noticing the subtle interaction was Matthew. The debate might have been an integral one for their survival, but that didn't mean that Harry's friend was giving it his undivided attention. His knuckles would rap against the table's surface whenever Harry looked at Margot, as if he'd tasked himself with being a particularly annoying alarm. If the others had picked up on the interference, then they were currently putting it down to Matthew's usual idiosyncrasies.

"Compliments will get you everywhere, Dumbledore," Maxime purred. "Though I've been able to sense your party's impatience from the very beginning."

Harry was well aware that he was the one who was getting called out, even if the headmistress wasn't looking directly at him. It turned out that his poor attempts to hide his annoyance had fallen flat, and he was left hoping that they weren't going to scupper the conversation ahead. It wasn't like he was going to apologise for the disgruntled look he'd been wearing on his face. But, as he'd explained to Enola, it was largely down to him to make the day a success, and it was long overdue that he played that role.

"I was surprised but happy to see that you're here, Fleur," he said, plastering on a large smile to steer them towards less treacherous water. "Haven't you finished school?"

"Miss Delacour has been acting as an ambassador for Beauxbatons since her education came to an end," Maxime explained. "As one of our shining pupils, it was only right that she took on the position. And she's done it as well as I could have envisioned."

"You do me a great service, Madame Maxime," the girl in question replied, her accent a touch softer than what Harry remembered. "It has been an enjoyable experience. I have visited many countries as part of my work, in the hope of strengthening Beauxbatons' global reputation. So when you came forward to work on a stronger, more united relationship, it was only right that I played my part."

"She brings us onto a pertinent point," Dumbledore said. "And the reason why we're here today. Hogwarts needs the support of Beauxbatons. Lord Voldemort has already made one attempt to get past our wells and very nearly succeeded. He would have done so without the intervention of the very students in this room. If he were to return with a full force, we'd need as much backing as possible. I already have the agreement of the Minister of Magic that aurors will be deployed in a time of emergency. But a show of international cooperation might be the sort of pushback that Lord Voldemort is not expecting. It could give us a vital edge in this dreadful war, and push us closer to ending it."

"It sounds an awful lot like you're asking me to put my students at risk," Maxime countered, the sort of argument that Harry had been expecting to hear. "That goes against the promises that put me in this position to begin with."

Harry leaned forward, taking the lead. "Madame Maxime, if I may…your students are already at risk."

"The Dark Lord has made no attempts to breach the wards of Beauxbatons. Sending my staff and pupils would simply be pushing them into harm's way."

"Frankly, it doesn't matter what Voldemort has done up to this point. For some reason, probably because of me, he sees Hogwarts as his final hurdle. If we fall, then he takes control. Do you think he'll stop at Britain? Because the way I see it, he'd only be hungry for more. He won't want any wizards or witches left remaining who go against his ideology. And if he was to take Hogwarts, then he'd see this place as a much smaller challenge."

"You represent a large part of Europe," Hermione said. "Not only France, but Spain, Portugal, Holland, Luxembourg and Belgium to name a few."

Maxime looked impressed. "You've been reading up about us."

"Trust me, there's not a topic under the sun worth knowing that Hermione hasn't researched," Matthew clarified.

She smiled proudly. "You're a larger school than Hogwarts, at least in terms of the size of your student body. If Voldemort was to wipe you out, he'd see that as conquering countless countries at once."

"Isolating ourselves is the one thing that Voldemort's banking on," Sirius added. "He can't envisage a world in which we can overcome our differences, largely because he'd never dream of doing that himself."

"But why must the students get involved?" Maxime asked imploringly. "Isn't there an option of hiding them away?"

"I wish there was," Dumbledore answered. "But Voldemort wants to break the will of the next generation, because they're the ones who can most strongly oppose him."

"And if we were told to stay clear of the fight, I reckon it'd fall on deaf ears," Harry outlined with a smirk. "We're involved now. We're fighting for our future."

"The main reason why I permitted these students to come with me on this diplomatic trip was so that you can look into their eyes, Olympe. These are the people who have already managed to push Voldemort away. These are the brilliant young minds who are weakening him with every day that passes. They should serve as inspiration for what can be accomplished, rather than what we have left to fear." Dumbledore rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily before composing himself once again. "At times, I've chosen the option to hide them and to wrap them up in the belief that I was protecting them. But the greatest progress has been made when I've worked alongside them. Or even, as much as it wounds my pride, when they've worked alone."

Harry was willing to give Dumbledore credit for not being ruled by his ego. Given that he'd been idolised by so many people, it would have been easy for him to believe the praise. On occasion, Harry felt like he had allowed the power to go to his head, even if he'd felt it was for a good purpose. So it was good to see that the old man was apparently learning from his mistakes, though there was still a chance that it was a convincing performance. Harry had missed having the headmaster to rely upon, and it was the closest he'd felt to regaining that.

Maxime considered the point for a few moments. "What are you suggesting, then? How would this work practically?"

"A permanent link between our schools through the Floo network," Dumbledore explained. "And, with Ministry support, an expansion of that very network, so that more people can pass through at once. This would either allow your people to aid the defence of our school, or allow our students to come here as a place of sanctuary during the attack. If we can spare the trauma of a battle for the younger students we look after, then I'll see that as a great victory."

"It might be good to run a volunteer scheme," Harry suggested, largely thinking on his feet. "When we're back at Hogwarts, we could ask each and every student whether they'd be willing to fight. I don't want to force anyone into this."

"But wouldn't you expect the majority of children to opt out?" Maxime wondered.

"It's a possibility. But me and my friends have been running training sessions for quite some time now, and the number of members is always on the up. The students want to know how to defend themselves. They know how important this fight is."

"Those classes have bridged inter-House divides at Hogwarts," Draco explained. "It hasn't depended on the background of students. They've thrown themselves into preparing for Voldemort's return."

"It might even be useful for some of your pupils to join the sessions," Matthew suggested. "If they're going to fight alongside us, then it'd make sense for them to get used to us. And, not to toot our own horn, but we could teach them quite a bit."

"And I'm sure they could teach us some things as well," Hermione reasoned, just in case her boyfriend had inadvertently insulted their host.

Harry hadn't remotely been consulted about that proposition, but Matthew made a habit of springing things on him without prior conversation. It wasn't that he was opposed to the idea, but he was worried that he'd be met with a difficult language barrier. It was bad enough teaching fellow teenagers he vaguely knew; he couldn't imagine what it was going to be like to be put in front of a group of people who likely couldn't understand a word he was saying.

"It would help to have a liaison at the school," Maxime proposed, sounding closer to agreement than ever before. "Miss Delacour?"

Fleur perked up. "I'd be more than happy to visit Hogwarts again."

"And there are plenty of private quarters that I'm sure will be more than up to your tastes," Dumbledore said, before gesturing to Enola. "We've been serving as a host for Miss Karstark for a number of months now, and we're yet to be met with any complaints."

Enola, being roped into the conversation, nodded her head. "Stellar service. Absolutely stellar."

Maxime hummed in thought. "There are still a few…how do you say…kinks to work out before this can go ahead…but your willingness to come to us has shown how committed you are to the cause. I won't have it etched into the history books that Beauxbatons wasn't the same."

Dumbledore clapped his hands together happily. "Splendid!"

"Is that it?" Harry asked, feeling as if there needed to be some sort of catch.

Sirius nudged him. "I wouldn't complain."

"I…I mean…thank you, Madame Maxime. You don't understand how grateful we are."

"I'll only accept your thanks, Monsieur Potter, once the world is rid of our enemies' darkness," she replied.

"Perhaps it will be best for the adults to work through the boring minutiae now," Dumbledore said. "There is no need to bore you with tedious matters when I'm sure you want to explore what Beauxbatons has to offer. It's an opportunity not to be sniffed at, so I'd advise making the most of it before we leave."

"Miss Moncleur will be more than happy to give you an exclusive tour."

Their attention returned to Margot, who looked like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights. It seemed like she was just as anxious about being around Harry as he was, and it surely felt like the universe was making a mockery of them both by pushing them ever closer together. But, keeping up appearances, she wore a strained smile and nodded her head. The others were already getting up from their seats, sensing the thinly veiled order to get out of there, whilst Harry waited a beat to somehow compose himself.

Sirius gripped his shoulder, leaning in to whisper. "Don't go wandering too far. I'd best stay here to keep Dumbledore in check, but I don't want to have to be hunting you down. You might have a strong group of friends around you, but trouble never seems to be too far away."

"It's a tour of the school," he pointed out. "What could possibly go wrong?"

"Then why's your face so deathly pale."

Harry grimaced. "You wouldn't understand."

"Ah…because I was thinking that it had something to do with the pretty French girl giving the tour. Because I certainly remember you waxing lyrical about her beauty and charm in your fourth year."

He jumped up from his chair, his pale face turning red instead. "I did not wax lyrical about anything. Are you here to just embarrass me?"

"Mostly, yes. It's my job. If you haven't figured that out by now, I don't know what to tell you."

Facing Margot and the potential teasing of his friends suddenly felt like the better option, which was why Harry was quick to leave the room. It might have been interesting to hear the rest of the discussion, to find out what concessions both head teachers were going to make in the name of peace. But, just as Dumbledore had described, the chances of him being able to learn more about Beauxbatons firsthand were slim. A hunger for new information was more powerful than his fears of what Margot and Enola would be like together.

He didn't know whether it had been planned, but the French girl was closest to the door once he was back in the hallway. Harry looked over to the rest of the group, who were congregated by one of the large windows overlooking the mountainous region outside. Hermione was currently in a deep conversation with Enola, though she spared a second to give Harry an encouraging look. He was going to have to thank her at some point for the assistance, giving him a brief window to navigate the waiting awkwardness.

Margot had seemingly been working past her own nerves, for she greeted him with renewed warmth as he emerged. A hug and a quick kiss on the cheek left Harry standing stock still, and he was more relieved than ever that Hermione had Enola's eyes trained at another location. Being so close to Margot was also a physical reminder of how she'd grown, becoming a gorgeous young woman who still appeared to enjoy his company for some reason or another. After what had happened with the Daily Prophet and Rita Skeeter, he hadn't thought that that was a given.

She moved away slightly and Harry missed the warmth of her embrace. "I always knew that we'd say hello again. I never doubted it."

"You're…um…you're looking well," he managed to conjure up.

"Why thank you," she replied with a soft laugh, as if she found his tentative demeanour endearing.

"I always thought about writing to you. Hedwig would have loved the journey to France. But things always seemed to get in the way."

"Life has a nasty habit of doing that."

"And I didn't really know whether you still liked me, given everything that happened with the Tournament."

"I thought I made it clear at the time that I didn't blame you one bit for all that."

"I know. But it's one thing to hear you say that, and another thing entirely to actually believe it."

"Well…I guess we're being given a chance to make up for lost time. I have to admit that I was disappointed that you didn't join your friends when they first came here. They spoke very highly of you, of course."

Matthew may have enjoyed messing with Harry about his increasingly complicated love life, but that didn't stop him from being a useful asset. He was going to have to thank Matthew at the same time as when he repaid Hermione for her current work. Even after so many years, the trio was still working like a well oiled machine. After the recent struggles they'd been through, it was nice to have the reminder that they were still on the same wavelength.

Harry was well aware that his private conversation with Margot was garnering more public attention than he would have liked. Whilst the group waited for their tour guide to stop being otherwise engaged, they were doing a poor job of pretending that they were not listening in. Matthew and Draco even went as far as giving a thumbs up, a show of similarity between the pair that neither of them would have dared admit to. Ginny, meanwhile, had been roped into Hermione's efforts to keep Enola distracted, as if she were finally repaying the favour from the Chamber of Secrets.

As Harry considered his friends' behaviour more closely, a new possibility entered his head. Matthew's unusual level of cooperation might have had another reason, other than wanting Harry to be happy. Having been resistant to the idea of Enola spending more time with them, he was likely seeing Margot as the much more preferable alternative. Was he trying to push them closer together, so that Harry's feelings for Enola waned? Would he be that conniving?

"I'm sure most of it was exaggerated," Harry said, drawing his attention back to Margot.

"I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss what you've accomplished, Harry."

"Agan, I reckon the stories you've been told have been glorified. Like with the fight at Hogwarts; I was basically locked in a room during it all. Those lot over there saved the day, along with the professors. I'm sick of taking all their credit."

"I'm not just talking of what's come before. I saw it with my own eyes in that room just now. That meeting was spectacular!"

"It was? I thought it was surprisingly dull."

She hit him playfully on the arm. The innocuous, almost flirtatious act was enough to draw Enola's focus at last, and Harry was certain that her eyes narrowed slightly at the close proximity between the two of them. But, ever thinking on her feet, Hermione was quickly pulling Enola back to the window, looking as if she were scrambling to come up with something new and interesting to say. She even went as far as involving the helpless Daphne, who was forced to keep the conversation going against her will.

"Maybe you're more used to the wonders of the world, but I thought it was thrilling. It was a moment of history, don't you think? You were helping to shape our society as we know it. It's easy for schools to come together for international tournaments or other PR stunts. But to set aside their inherent differences and vow to protect one another? That's more magical than any sort of charm."

Harry shouldn't have been noticing the sparkling, shining nature of Margot's eyes. She spoke with such passion that it was hard not to be drawn into her enthusiasm. There was perhaps a touch of naivety that Harry had long since lost, a belief that things would work out for the best in the end. Maybe it was good for him to be surrounded by someone with a more positive, unburdened outlook on life. Everyone else he knew had been touched by war in some shape or fashion, so it was refreshing to be met with something else.

However, it also left him feeling strangely guilty. Because, as was the case with Margot, they were yet to be properly tormented by Voldemort and the darkness spreading across Britain. The Channel had separated them from that misery. Harry's sole role during the visit was to drag them into that growing cloud. If Margot stayed by his side, then it wouldn't be long before she got a taste of the misery that had plagued Harry for so many years. The joy he'd experienced too, yes, but also that pain. What right did he have to subject her to that?

Again, it was difficult to cling onto those resoundingly negative feelings when he was looking directly at Margot and the way her face had lit up. It was dredging up emotions from his fourth year. Enola had certainly captured his heart, that was undeniable. But he was being faced with his first love. The girl who he'd shared his first kiss with. That couldn't be overlooked. And it left him in an increasingly dangerous and uncomfortable position.

Harry realised that, as he wrestled with his own thoughts, he hadn't managed to come up with any sort of response to Margot's comments. Her brow had creased in bemusement at his silence, though the smirk remaining on her lips spoke of her being amused by his unending lack of social skills. Had his mouth gone dry or had he suddenly lost the ability to speak? Margot spoke of the magic of what had been accomplished during the meeting, but she was placing her own sort of charm on him.

"When you put it like that, it's hard to disagree," Harry managed to get out.

"I'm also interested in what Matthew suggested," Margot pressed on. "You know, about the classes you've been running?"

He waved a hand. "It isn't just me who's been running them. It wasn't even my idea to begin with. I got shoved into the role."

"But I imagine you've taken it in your stride, like you tend to do with most things?"

"Well…there've been a few stumbles at times, but I'm proud of what we've been able to accomplish."

"Then I've got to see this in person. I can't resist expanding my mind and abilities. If there's something new to learn, then I have to give it a try."

"You sound just like Hermione. And I mean that as the ultimate compliment."

"Then you wouldn't mind me visiting on occasion for those sessions? With the other Beauxbatons students if that goes ahead?"

Harry was now imagining a reality where he was able to see Margot more regularly. It certainly had the potential to make his life more complicated, but it also was too sweet a temptation to turn away. It was like he was being given a chance for a do-over. Outside factors had derailed their first attempts at a relationship. Even if he and Margot were only going to remain as friends, then Harry wanted to grab hold of that second opportunity.

He just wasn't going to say that in front of Enola.

Because he enjoyed having his limbs attached to his body.

"I'd really like that," he said.

Yet again, they shared a sweet smile and, for that brief moment, it wasn't like they were young adults being faced with an uncertain future. They were the teenagers who'd first met each other. The teenagers who'd been pushed apart when they were still getting to know one another. There'd always been a sense that he'd missed out on something, a foundational part of growing up. The fight with Voldemort had taken countless things from him. But it was also now presenting him with something much more positive.

Margot grinned, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "I think we've left your friends waiting long enough, haven't we?"

Harry glanced over to them, where Matthew was tapping an imaginary watch. "You might have a point."

She took the lead, walking purposefully to the waiting group. "Please forgive the wait. I was just detailing to Harry what sights I'm planning to show you. I want to make sure you see the best that Beauxbatons has to offer."

"Yes, I'm sure that's what you were doing," Matthew quipped.

Harry rolled his eyes at his friend's endlessly annoying behaviour, not that Matthew was remotely fazed by the withering look. Harry was more concerned about how Enola was feeling, who was finally relinquished from Hermione's company. But, as Margot began to lead them deeper into the school, Matthew was on hand to provide yet another distraction, wrapping an arm around Harry's shoulders to prevent Enola from interrogating Harry.

With the wide grin his friend was wearing, Harry couldn't tell whether that was a blessing or not.

"Having fun?" Matthew asked.

"What are you playing at?" Harry retorted suspiciously.

"Me? I haven't done anything."

"I feel like you're meddling."

"I'm not the one who had a deep conversation with Margot in front of your apparent girlfriend. Or have you not put labels on it yet?"

"Do you enjoy torturing me?"

"It's been a nice pastime over the years."

"Which means you're not going to stop anytime soon."

Matthew patted him on the back. "Absolutely not."