With a smile, I mimic your grace,
Dancing along in your lively space.
Your voice a song, I take the cue,
In every gesture, I become you.
~ "The Mimic" by Anonymous
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"Sensoria Minora," Harry intoned, waving his wand in a precise motion.
A soft, shimmering light enveloped him, and his senses became dull again.
'It won't do to let them run free.'
Harry had never seen Sirius wave his wand and cast it, yet he somehow— instinctively— knew the motion.
The incantation was almost pouring out of his lips with the barest effort and he knew exactly how the spell felt and what it did.
'It still surprises that I cast it right on my first try,' Harry thought with a small smile of satisfaction.
"You are doing it again."
Fleur's pleasant voice broke through his thoughts.
Harry turned to see the French witch looking at him.
She was as beautiful as ever, he noted.
Her silvery-blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing her delicate features.
Harry couldn't help but get drawn to her mesmerising blue eyes and was momentarily lost in her gaze.
"Doing what again?" he asked, feigning innocence despite knowing exactly what she meant.
They were outside the castle, training.
The weather was unusually warm for January, and the sky was a bright, cloudless blue.
Thus the sun from high above, cast an almost ethereal glow on everything as its light met the snow.
"Daydreaming," Fleur replied with a huff, steam following her words.
'Cute,' Harry's mind supplied absentmindedly and he smiled at her with mock exasperation.
"We've got so many more spells to go over," Fleur continued, serious, "How are we supposed to make progress if you can't focus?"
"I'm sorry. It's just that everything happened so quickly—us included," he said, gesturing between them with his index finger.
"I've changed too much, too fast. It's surreal," Harry said and straightened up, suppressing a sigh from escaping his lips.
"I know mon chéri. But it's amazing, non?" Fleur smiled brilliantly.
"That it is," Harry easily agreed, his mind drifting to the time he spent with the older girl.
'Amazing indeed.'
"Shall we continue then, or do you need anozer moment to compose yourself Harry?" she teased, her French accent less pronounced.
Harry chuckled, running a hand through his messy hair.
"I shall be ready as thy lady wants," he said with an exaggerated bow and readied his wand.
Fleur rolled her eyes, but Harry caught the hint of a smile tugging at her lips.
"Alright then, let's see how you handle this one," she said and raised her own wand.
With a swift flick of her wrist, Fleur cast a spell Harry had never seen before; as was the reason of their training.
"Aureus Spira," Fleur incanted and a shimmering, golden arc of light erupted from her wand, spiralling towards her boyfriend.
Harry's eyes widened in surprise—a mistake, as the spell's light momentarily dazzled him; it was the first offensive spell Fleur had cast that day.
Despite his lack of vision, his body seemed to move on its own and he rolled away from the flying arc.
Thanks to his magical awareness, he was acutely aware of the spell whooshing past above him.
He raised his wand arm, mirroring Fleur's earlier motion perfectly.
"Aureus Spira," he cast and the same golden light, albeit less intense, burst forth from his wand, heading towards the French girl.
"Protego," she easily intoned and manifested a steady shield in front of her.
The golden spiral collided with her barrier, dissipating into a shower of sparks.
"Magnificent, Harry! I'm totally jealous of your new ability…" Fleur praised a smile, and despite her words, there wasn't an inkling of jealousy in there.
"Meh, it wasn't a perfect cast," Harry deflected with a sigh, "The intensity was much lower, and the spiral wasn't as tight as yours."
Fleur shook her head, her silvery hair catching the sunlight.
"You are stupid, Harry James Potter. You just learned that spell a few seconds ago, for Merlin's sake," she said in a crescendo, her sudden use of the British magical curse word surprising both teens.
"Did you just?" Harry asked in disbelief, making a weird hand gesture.
"I suppose you're rubbing off on me more than we thought," Fleur said with a playful wink, prompting Harry to let out a chuckle.
"Now, let's up the pace, shall we? I have a few more spells I'd like to try on you," Fleur said mischievously.
A shudder ran through the youth's spine as he took an involuntary step back.
"You're kidding right?" he pleaded weakly causing Fleur's grin to widen.
Harry could swear his heart skipped a beat there.
"Nubilus Umbra," Fleur incanted, her wand tracing an intricate pattern in the air.
A black fog moved quickly across the two youths, obscuring vision and muffling sound for Harry, but not Fleur.
Even before the spell was cast, Harry's wand was already moving to mirror Fleur's movements.
"Nubilus Umbra," Harry echoed, his voice steady despite the unfamiliarity of the spell.
A similar, albeit less dense but equally menacing, wave of shadows shot forth to meet Fleur's spell mid-air.
The two dark clouds collided, intertwining and after a stalemate, dissipated into nothingness.
"Somnium Tempestus," Harry said as quickly as he could, knowing that was what Fleur had cast from behind the disappearing darkness.
In the following moment, he felt a lethargic pull so intense that he almost fell unconscious on the spot, alas, Harry prevailed; the spell induced a magically deep sleep.
Bringing forth his mind shields, Harry fought off the outside influence with determination.
The magical assault on his mind receded enough for him to sober up.
"Finite," Harry murmured whilst pointing his wand at his head and felt the last remnants of the spell fade away.
Shaking his head to clear the lingering drowsiness, he looked up.
The air cleared, revealing Fleur and Harry standing face to face, wands at the ready.
Their eyes locked.
"Impressive. That almost got me," Fleur remarked emotionlessly.
'She's still using occlumency,' he realised and confirmed it with his magical sense.
He could even see the mental barriers around Fleur's head, shimmering with a faint blue aura.
"What can I say, my teacher taught me a trick or two," he teased and smiled as Fleur's smile returned.
"Though I must admit, your spells are getting trickier. That last one almost had me dreaming of fluffy clouds and warm beds, and Merlin knows how I managed to utter the incantation without hearing it," Harry trailed off thoughtfully.
Fleur's lips twitched.
"Just don't go daydreaming on me again, Harry," she said, her blue eyes sparkling with mirth.
"Wha- mhph," Harry's words were cut off as Fleur leaned in and pressed her lips against his.
The sudden kiss caught him off guard, but he quickly melted into it, his mind going blissfully blank.
When they finally parted, both were slightly breathless, their cheeks flushed from the cold…
"That was... unexpected," Harry murmured, his eyes still half-closed, to Fleur's melodious laugh.
"Per'aps we should take a break from ze training," she suggested, softly wiggling her eyebrows.
Harry felt Fleur's warm breath on his face.
The proximity sent a pleasant shiver down his spine, and he found himself lost in Fleur's beauty.
For a moment, the world stopped.
"You are beautiful," Harry whispered as his hand gently cupped Fleur's cheek, which turned a shade pink darker by the second.
"Ah, stop zat! You're not so bad yourself, 'Arry," she said seductively, her French accent coming through.
"I'm more than quite charming," he quipped, drawing a melodious laugh from Fleur.
Harry leaned in, closing the distance between them once more.
As their lips met again, Harry couldn't help but marvel at how natural it felt, how right.
.
"Bonjour, ma belle," Harry greeted and dropped next to Fleur.
Fleur smiled delightedly and crammed her neck to give him a peck on the lips as she slid into the seat next to her.
"Beautiful, 'uh?" she replied with amusement.
"Well, not to boost your already inflated ego love, but yes, you make quite a sight," Harry said affectionately and grabbed a toast from the table.
Fleur's response was an elbow to Harry's ribs.
"I must admit, your French is improving, mon chéri," she said with a smirk, enjoying the apparent pain that Harry was in.
"Yeah, the language lessons were definitely the way to go," he offered while rubbing his sides.
She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Perhaps we should continue your... lessons then?"
"I must insist. Your teaching methods are quite... effective," Harry replied a bit louder than he intended.
"Cough. Cough," Hermione cleared her throat loudly, causing Harry and Fleur to stare at her.
"Sorry to interrupt, lovebirds, but I'd rather not hear about your bedroom activities while reading. Also, you're not alone," she said, gesturing towards the rest of the table.
Following her gaze, Harry and Fleur noticed that most of the Gryffindor table's attention was on them.
Harry cleared his throat and reached for a plate of scrambled eggs, trying to act as if nothing happened.
"Right. Do you have any plans for today Hermione?" he asked right after finishing his toast.
Harry looked as Hermione's eyes trailed her book's pages, finishing the paragraph she was reading, before looking back to Harry.
She shyly tucked a strand of bushy hair behind her ear and a smile blossomed on her face.
'Something's going on,' he realised and leaned in closer to hear what Hermione had to say.
"Well, I was planning to spend some time in the library-" she said, prompting Harry to gasp in mock shock, which she scowled at, "-researching for a Potions essay. Neville mentioned he might join me," she replied, her eyes darting briefly to the Gryffindor sitting opposite to her.
Harry raised an eyebrow with a knowing smirk on his lips.
He glanced at Neville, who was suddenly very interested in his porridge.
"That sounds lovely, Hermione. I hope you two have a very productive study session," Harry said and you could almost hear the quotation marks in his second sentence.
Hermione's cheeks flushed slightly, but she met his gaze head-on.
"Oh, stop it, Harry. We're just friends helping each other out," she said, but a first-year could tell that her tone lacked conviction.
'Yes, keep digging your grave,' Harry thought with a sudden sadistic glee.
"I bet Neville has enjoyed your research sessions. I'm sure he finds your help very... illuminating," Harry teased, his grin widening as Hermione's blush deepened.
Neville choked on his porridge and coughed violently, his face turning red.
He was about to say something but, Fleur, who had been quietly observing the exchange, burst out laughing, her silvery hair bouncing as she shook with mirth.
As if a cork waiting to be unscrewed, roars of mirth spread throughout the Gryffindor table, with even Hermione and Neville joining in.
Slowly, the laughter subsided and the chatter resumed around them.
As if on cue, the Weasley twins appeared, sliding into seats next to Harry and Fleur, effectively sandwiching them.
"Well, well, well," one of them began, a mischievous glint in his eye.
"What do we have here, George?" Fred, or was it, continued, mirroring his brother's expression.
"Looks like our little Harrykins is not quite Harrykins. He is all grown up and up to no good, Fred," George replied with a wink.
"And we couldn't-" Fred said.
"-be any prouder," his twin finished, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye.
Harry rolled his eyes at the once magical display.
"Our little protégé-" George started, and the other followed.
"-mastering the art of-"
"-mischief and romance all at once," they finished together, exchanging a look of mock pride and eliciting laughter from all around.
In his three years at Hogwarts, Harry had become quite accustomed to the twins' twin talk.
It was unnerving as it was fascinating.
Their ability to finish each other's sentences was a thing of legend and no one knew how they did it.
'Until now,' he thought while looking at a narrow red line that travelled between their heads.
Mage sight, as he chose to call it, was showing to be more useful by the day.
'It looks like the soul bonds I share with the others,' he thought and deducted that they were probably born that way.
"What can I say, you shouldn't have made me solemnly swear that I was up to no good," Harry quipped with a grin, causing the twins to burst laughing.
Feeling bold, he decided to try something.
Allowing his magical awareness to relax a little, he was still under the sense-dampening spell, and let it brush with the twin's bond, gaining a subtle sense of its nature.
'It's not a soul bond,' he happily realised, missing the brief frowns that flashed across both redheads' faces.
"We wonder though, did you always-" Fred began, leaning in conspiratorially.
"-have such a way with the ladies?" George continued, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
"A gentleman never kisses and tells," he replied with a wink, causing Fleur to giggle beside him.
As he answered though, he tried to subtly recreate the magical connection between the twins, with Fleur…
As he concentrated, he felt a faint tingle of magic establishing between them, but wasn't sure if he had succeeded.
Fleur's eyes widened slightly, before frowning deep into concentration.
A moment passed, and her expression cleared, replaced by a look of wonder and excitement.
'Did you just-' she trailed in her thoughts.
'Yes,' Harry replied easily, he was well-versed with shared thought streams.
'Mon amour, this is amazing,' Fleur thought, and Harry felt her excitement.
Their silent exchange was interrupted as George cleared his throat dramatically.
"Oh, come now, Harry-" Fred said, and George leaned in closer.
"-surely you can share some of your secrets with your mentors?" he pleaded.
"Oh, we don't know Fred-" Harry replied whilst looking at the twin who was said to be George with a mischievous grin, knowing for sure he was talking to the right twin; another perk of the mage sight.
Fleur, who was listening to Harry inside her head, knew exactly the sentence he had in mind.
"-we are not sure if you two could 'andle our secrets, Fred," Fleur chimed in smoothly, looking at 'George'.
The twins' jaws dropped simultaneously, their eyes widening in shock.
They looked at each other, then back at Harry and Fleur, clearly trying to process what had just happened.
"Did you just-" Fred began, his voice trailing off in disbelief.
"-finish each other's sentences?" George completed, his tone matching that of his twin.
"I don't know George-" Harry started, mimicking their usual tone perfectly.
"-did we?" Fleur finished with a playful smirk.
The twins exchanged another shocked glance, their hopes of Harry and Fleur's twin talk being a fluke, crushed
Meanwhile, the rest of the table who was watching the heated exchange erupted into laughter.
Some of them even stood up to pat Harry's and Fleur's backs.
The sight of the infamous Weasley twins being outdone at their own game was just too much fun.
'I could get used to this,' Fleur shared in Harry's head.
That's what she tried to say at least, the thing that Harry heard was a jumble of French words and emotions.
It took him a moment to translate that into something understandable.
Harry couldn't help but smile at the warmth and excitement radiating from Fleur's mind.
'Don't worry, we'll definitely abuse this new ability. I can already think of a few ways it could come in handy,' Harry replied mischievously.
Fleur's mental laughter echoed in his mind as the twins tried to get them back.
.
"So?"
"So?" Harry asked back, bemused, from Fleur's thighs.
They were lounging in Fleur's private quarters in the Beauxbatons' carriage and Harry's head was currently resting comfortably on Fleur's soft lap as they enjoyed a rare moment of peace.
There was a crackling fire which cast a warm glow across the room, its gentle light dancing on their faces.
Fleur ran her fingers through Harry's messy hair.
"The next task, mon chéri. 'ave you given it any thought?" she asked calmly…
Harry sighed, everything was going so well after the ritual, that he almost forgot about the looming challenge.
'I totally forgot about that. I should probably start preparing despite the lack of information,' he thought to himself.
"To be honest, my thoughts were so occupied with the ritual, I haven't given it much thought," he admitted, his green eyes meeting Fleur's surprised gaze.
"What's there to think about, really? We don't have any clues, and there's no pattern to follow—the second task has always had a different objective in previous tournaments," he said, not particularly concerned, but not happy about the situation either.
Over the past few days he had mastered so many spells, mostly by imitating Fleur, he felt confident he could tackle a lot of things that the judges could throw at them.
"Wait, what do you mean? Didn't you receive ze golden egg?" Fleur asked, her face sporting a look of confusion.
She tilted her head slightly, her silvery hair cascading over her shoulder as she studied Harry's befuddled face intently.
"Egg?" he repeated dumbly.
"You left right after slaying ze dragon didn't you?" she said, not waiting for an answer before continuing.
"Did no one tell you about the clue after the task? I mean, you've been to tons of public spaces since then. Surely someone must 'ave mentioned it?"
Harry's brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of the new information.
He sat up, his emerald eyes clouded with confusion and… anger.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," he said slowly, feeling a headache forming…
"What clue are you talking about, Fleur?"
He had a feeling he wasn't going to like the answer.
The French champion sighed, placing her hand on Harry's arm and gently started tracing patterns on it.
She had an inkling of what happened, based on many of the dreadful memories her partner shared with her, and if Harry hadn't realised it yet, he was no doubt going to do so swiftly.
Fleur gently squeezed his arm, hoping to soothe him before his temper flared.
"Harry, after each champion completed the first task, our respective headmaster and headmistress, in my case, came to us and gave us a small golden egg, about zis big," she gestured with her hands to indicate something about the size of a large grape.
"The egg contained a clue for the next task. We received a runic text that, when correctly translated and spoken near the egg, would open it. We then had to decipher the message inside," she explained, feeling Harry's muscles tense beneath her touch.
Needless to say, Harry wasn't pleased to hear all that.
He allowed himself a few breaths, doing his utmost best to calm down; he didn't want Fleur to see one of his infamous blow-ups.
'Well, it makes sense really. There was no way in hell that the bastard would make it easy for me,' Harry thought bitterly.
"Dumbledore," he spat out the name with venom, and Fleur couldn't help but nod.
That was the conclusion she had reached as well.
The old man's manipulations seemed to know no bounds.
Another deep breath.
"So, what exactly did this golden egg say?" he asked Fleur, trying to keep his voice level.
Under different circumstances, she may have teased him and asked for something in return, something fun preferably.
However, neither was in a joking mood.
"If you simply open the egg it emits a loud, piercing shriek," Fleur explained. "But if you submerge it underwater, you can hear the message clearly. It's a riddle about retrieving a precious item from the depths of the Black Lake wizin an 'our."
"The Black Lake? So the next task involves swimming?" he asked, his mind already racing with implications and potential challenges…
"How will you fare underwater love?" Harry asked, his concern growing as he thought more about it.
Fleur being a Veela, a being of air and fire, didn't have the blessing of the water.
The image of her struggling in the murky depths of the Black Lake sent a shiver down his spine, his gut twisting with anxiety.
"It will be... challenging," she admitted, her voice soft but unafraid. "But I 'ave been practising some charms that might 'elp. And in the end, I have you," she finished with a smile.
"That you do, mon amour. I'll make sure you're safe, no matter what," he assured her, pulling her close.
Harry's words made Fleur feel warm inside.
She leaned into his embrace, melting in it.
After a few peaceful moments, Harry's mind registered something he had overlooked earlier
He gently pulled away from Fleur.
"What was that about something precious being placed in the depths of the lake?" he inquired.
"The riddle mentioned that they'd take something we'd 'sorely miss' and we'd have an hour to retrieve it," she replied, confused as to what bothered Harry.
"Before, you said it was an object… Can you tell me the exact words?"
Fleur nodded, her brow furrowing slightly as she recalled the exact wording of the riddle.
She took a deep breath and recited:
"Come seek us where our voices sound, We cannot sing above the ground, And while you're searching, ponder this: We've taken what you'll sorely miss, An hour long you'll have to look, And to recover what we took, But past an hour — the prospect's black, Too late, it's gone, it won't come back."
'They cannot sing above the ground, and the egg had to be placed underwater to hear the message, or else you'd hear a shriek. The Black Lake has merpeople, which are also easily accessible from the school,' Harry thought.
Having the answers beforehand made it very easy to glean the secret meaning of the message…
Had Harry heard the recording, he would have noted that Fleur's melodious voice sounded much better than the merpeople's.
However he hadn't, and truth be told, at that moment, he wouldn't have cared as he stilled, processing the implications of the egg's words.
The thought of someone taking something precious to him and submerging it in the depths of the Black Lake briefly ignited Harry's temper.
Upon thinking a bit more about it, he realised that there wasn't anything they could take from him.
Everything that he owned and cherished was either on his person or in the chamber.
No one could get them.
'Taken what you'll sorely miss,' the line echoed in his mind.
His mind raced, connecting the dots between the riddle and the judges' inability to take something precious from him.
'What can they take?'
"They have to steal four things, I doubt anyone would give the judges anything precious for safekeeping. I know, I won't," Harry mused aloud.
"Neizer would I, nor the ozers," Fleur agreed.
"I must confess, I didn't zink much on it. How would they choose what to take? I mean, do they know what we like and not? Will zey ask the people that know us?" she asked aloud, not really waiting for Harry to answer.
However, hearing Fleur talk, something clicked inside Harry's mind and his eyes widened as the full implication hit him.
'We've taken what you'll sorely miss,' echoed again in his mind.
That line.
Something precious, something so important that they'd have no choice but to jump inside a chillingly cold lake in the middle of February, and retrieve it.
Something that could leave and never come back again.
Something they could take even from him without his consent.
Not a thing… A person.
Suddenly, the answer dawned on him with chilling clarity, and he felt his heart rate quicken.
"Surely they wouldn't. Would they? I mean they brought dragons, they brought Ozeth for goodness' sake," Harry mumbled to himself, not noticing Fleur's concerned gaze that followed his every movement.
The idea that the tournament organisers would go to such lengths, endangering not just the champions but innocent bystanders as well, seemed almost inconceivable.
And yet, given everything he'd experienced so far, he couldn't dismiss the possibility.
In fact, he was certain that he got it right.
He turned to Fleur, his voice barely above a whisper. "They're not going to take things, Fleur. They're going to take people."
She clasped a hand over her mouth.
"Exactly as you said, love. People close to us. Friends, family—anyone they can get their oily hands on," Harry said, each word dripping with growing dread.
§ - § - § - § - § - § - § - § - § - § - § - §
QUESTION: The chapter 22, latest on p******, ends with an intimate moment. I can do a follow-up and start chapter 23 with a sex scene. IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT OR NOT?
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[p=a=t=r=e=o=n=.=c=o=m/Mr_0ne: Chapter 22 - Headmistress or bath
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[d=i=s=c=o=r=d=.=g=g/NJ3WV9RVgR : I'm alive!