Anything that rings a bell belongs to JK Rowling. The title of the story is a name of a song by The Wombats.
French to English Translations:
"Pote" = "Mate"/also a pun on Harry's surname
"mon ami, je t'aime bien" = "My friend, I love you."
"Bêtasse" = "Stupid"
Chapter One: What's in a Name?
"Do you think we should go and introduce ourselves?"
Daphne's attention moved to her cousin, Draco Malfoy, who had barely touched his dinner, half-scowling at the table nearest to their's in the Great Hall.
"Oh most definitely. Especially to that leggy redhead." Blaise tilted his head in appreciation at the girl in question, who had settled into a seat on the Ravenclaw table, her silk blue uniform standing out amidst the greyscale of Hogwarts.
"Get your mind out of your pants for once, Zabini." Her cousin hissed and the dark boy responded with a smirk, slipping a piece of beef between his well defined lips.
"Oh, I assure you Malfoy, my mind isn't on my pants."
Before the conversation descended to the gutters, Daphne caught her cousin's silver eyed stare "And how would that go, Draco? Don't you think his godfather told him about our family."
"Which is precisely why we should introduce ourselves. Who knows what lies that blood traitor fed him. Hmmm, he isn't as tall as I expected."
Daphne stifled a smile, "As tall as you expected? Fantasize about him much, then?"
"I do not fantasize about Harry Potter." Draco hissed, glancing around the table to make sure nobody heard him, "I just thought he'd be taller, that's all."
Theodore finally closed the pocket sized book he was reading and looked to where his fellow seventh years had been staring in appraisal, "I mean, he must be about 5'10, 5'11, can't tell with him sitting down but he seems on par with Terry Boot. Did anybody manage a good look at the scar? Is it really shaped like the unforgivable?"
"What? Isn't it meant to be shaped like a lightning bolt?" Draco craned his neck as if he could see through the back of Harry Potter's head somehow if he got high enough.
"I suppose that's a common assumption. But I read somewhere that cursed scars take the image of the wandwork used on them." Their group of Slytherins stared dumbly at the dark haired boy, his strands were a warm brown in the well lit hall, his hazel eyes sparkling greenish, "Well the avada kedavra -"
"Shhh." Hissed Draco, annoyed with his friend's lack of awareness. The Unforgivables weren't really dinner table talk.
"Is this seat taken?" Daphne looked up at the boy stood behind her, he had inky black hair, onyx eyes, and pale skin, and she thought he looked as if he were a pencil sketch come to life.
"No. Go ahead. Draco Malfoy." Daphne shot her cousin a glare but it went unnoticed as he reached across the table to shake the Durmstang student's hand. The rest of his schoolmates filling in around him, it would appear Slytherin house will be hosts to the Northern European school during this tournament. Daphne wiped her mouth with her napkin to hide her frown, Draco answering for her was one of her pet peeves.
"Lev Karkaroff." The boy turned his dark gaze to Daphne, bowing his head slightly in greeting and holding out his hand for hers.
She took a deep calming breath, hiding it by shifting in her seat and offered her hand to him, and he kissed the back of it. She shot Theodore a glare for his stifled giggling, clearly noticing her annoyance. It would seem the Durmstrang boys were more traditional than the Slytherins, and that was saying something. Lev Karkaroff's lips hovered over her hand, not letting it go, a question shimmering in his sharp eyes and she just realised the answer.
"Daphne. Greengrass." She pulled her hand back and wiped it discretely on the back of her skirt as she stood, "Excuse me." She didn't give a reason for her early departure from the table, knowing they would assume she needed the ladies and she'd pretend that was the case.
She glanced behind her as she left the Welcoming Feast for their international guests, and then quickly crossed the Entrance Hall. She was a prefect, so she needn't be this sneaky, but she couldn't deal with questions right now, and slipped through the front doors.
She took in a large gulp of fresh air, tilting her head back and enjoying the starry night that twinkled down at her. The Great Hall ceiling never fully conveyed the beauty of night in the Scottish Highlands. Yes, you could see the stars, but one couldn't hear the humming of lake flies, or feel the crisp air caress your lungs, or smell the scent of freshly cut grass.
The only thing better than this, was flying.
Daphne suddenly snapped to attention when she registered that she was in fact, not alone, meeting emerald green eyes that were latched onto her, unashamedly staring from a spot hidden by a pillar on the front steps.
She took in his jet black strands, lightning scar, and ice-blue robes, surprised to find him outside when her friends had just been staring at him, but perhaps he slipped out when Lev Karkaroff and his friends descended upon them.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb. Just needed a bit of fresh air." She frowned, not expecting the voice as he ascended the steps to meet her. She'd heard Harry Potter grew up in France, and expected an accent, but found none. He sounded positively British. He ran a hand through his dark strands, a sideways grin conveying nerves and she just realised she had been quite rudely staring, "I can leave, if you like?"
"You were here first." She responded, levelly, "If anyone should go, it ought to be me."
"Oh, my godfather would be wounded if he found out I treated a pretty young lady in such a way." Her eyes narrowed at the remark, reminded of her previous annoyance at her cousin. Daphne was tired of constantly being made to feel delicate, like she was some fragile flower that was one good gust of wind from being torn asunder. She folded her arms as she noticed his expressive eyes dance over her body quickly, "I'm sorry, I feel like I'm upsetting you, and the reason why eludes me."
She turned her glower towards the large green lawn in front of them, knowing it was impolite to act this frosty, especially to a guest, who didn't really deserve her ire in the first place. Afterall, Harry Potter wasn't responsible for her persistently feeling like a caged bird. Not allowed to fly. Forbidden to wander. Her sole purpose to be ornamental, of no function.
"Oh, good, the grass has upset you now, is it not green enough? We could find another side, I hear they're meant to be much greener there."
Her eyes flickered to Harry Potter's face, quite sure that was some convuluted pun on her name, "Are you mocking me?"
Surprise painted his features, "Mocking? Merlin, you British girls!" His eyes widened as he leaned against the pillar that framed the front steps, "I was flirting with you. Albeit, terribly, I've been told I'm not very good at it."
Daphne didn't know which thought to latch onto first, that Harry Potter was claiming to not be British, to be flirting with her, or to be terrible at it?
"You are British." She decided this was much easier to argue, "You may not have lived here, but your parents were British." She frowned as an odd expression ghosted across his thin features at the mention of his parents, and she thought it might be confusion, "You do know about your parents, right?"
"My parents?" His face took on a puzzled look, "Do you know about my parents?"
Daphne straightened up, perplexed…
Did Harry Potter not know his own History? There had been nothing about him in the Daily Prophet in the last sixteen years. What she did know about him had been mostly unkind rumours, and whispered secrets. Could he not know that his parents died trying to defend him? That he defeated the most evil dark lord to ever exist when he was just a baby ?
"You know, people keep whispering my name, and staring at me, inside. I'm beginning to think it's not just because of my dashing good looks." His expression was soft, a vulnerability in his eyes.
"I…I…" Daphne found herself uncharacteristically flustered, she couldn't believe he didn't know that he was famous here, that they had all grown up with his name on their lips… but it wasn't her place to tell him. Perhaps there was a reason he was kept in the dark. But as an orphan, she empathised with him greatly, especially since her father's death was never fully explained to her. She straightened up decisively, "Your parents were Lily and James Potter. They were members of the Order of the Phoenix, which was an organisation to fight against the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord sought to kill your whole family, and successfully murdered your parents, but failed to do the same to you. Nobody knows how you survived, the only souvenir from the experience was that scar on your forehead." He was completely gobsmacked, clearly not expecting her to be so direct, but she thought news such as this is best conveyed factually, better to be blunt, than hide behind euphemisms, "I'm sorry, I know this must be awful to hear."
An expression she couldn't quite understand flickered across his face, she thought it may be regret.
"Harry, what are you doing outside? Papa's having a conniption. Oh." A petite blonde girl emerged, "Hello." She said with a slight French accent, "I didn't realise you had company, apologies for the intrusion." The girl had a playful smirk as she backed towards the front doors, "Oh, heads up, that Terry boy is going to ask you for your autograph at some point." She shook her head, exasperated, "Honestly, these lot fawn over you like you actually did something. What do they think, you drooled Voldemort to death." She laughed, backing into the Entrance Hall.
Drooled Voldemort to death.
Daphne surprised herself by the scowl that creased her features, "You knew?"
He held his hand up quickly, "It was just a joke! I was being sarcastic when I asked if you knew about my parents because it's so weird that everyone here seems to, but I think I got my tone off, and you just started explaining, and I didn't know how to stop you, or if I should."
"You think your parents murder is a joke?" Maybe the rumours about him being evil were true.
"Of course not! I…am an idiot. And I was just teasing you, you know, playing the whole humble orphan card."
"The orphan card?" If her voice was a knife, it would have pierced right through him.
He fumbled for words, "Look, I'm sorry. This has been a very weird night, and I just clearly have a shit sense of humour."
She controlled her features, trying neither to gape or glare at him, feeling like an idiot for acting on impulse. She should have left as soon as she spotted him, and definitely not spoken so candidly. She made to turn around and was stoppped by a warm hand on her elbow.
"Look, I'm really sor-" She pulled her elbow, out of his grip, and glared up at him.
"You know what. You are not as tall as I thought you'd be." And with that, she left Harry Potter gaping in confusion on the Hogwarts front steps.
-x-x-x-
"Pote, you abandon me in the middle of a meal? You know I have seperation anxiety? You alright?"
Harry watched his best friend, Silvain Sabre, enter through the door the tall blond just slipped through, "I think I've just really upset a very pretty girl."
Silvain frowned, "Oh no, you tried to flirt."
Harry sighed, "No, I specifically didn't because I'm bad at it, so I tried to be funny-"
"Ohhh, that's worse. Listen, mon ami, je t'aime bien, and you are funny, but you can't try with these things." His friend grimaced, displaying a gesture of indecision, "A joke is like a fart, you force it, it might be shit."
Harry hit his friend playfully in the gut, laughing despite himself, "You're disgusting. Where is your better half?"
Answering his question, Silvain's twin, Selina, once again walked through the door, followed by the other Beauxbatons students and…
"Remus!" Harry grinned,walking over and embracing the man who was like an uncle to him. They hadn't seen each other in three months, which was unusual for them.
The sandy haired man hugged him back just as tightly, and then held him at arms length, to get a good look at him. "How have you grown taller!"
"I have, haven't I!" Harry practically shouted, remembering what that girl said about him not being very tall, "I'm 5'11 now, which isn't short, right?"
"No…" His uncle answered, slightly concerned at his raised voice, "Has Sirius said something about that? You can't listen to him when it comes to height, he thinks anybody under six foot is medically a midget. Walk with me." He nodded to the sloping lawns, in the opposite direction of the Beauxbatons carriage, towards the large black lake "How is he?"
"He misses you!" Harry stated confidently, trying to catch his uncle's eyes as they wallked down, "He barely left the house all summer."
"That's funny, because I heard you two were backpacking through south east Asia."
"Well, technically." Harry scratched the back of his neck, "But other than hopping on trains, he barely left the hotel."
"The five star hotels and resorts you were staying at."
Harry let out an annoyed huff at the bitterness in Remus' voice, "I know it sounds like we were having a blast, but we weren't. I wanted you there. The whole reason I wanted to go backpacking through south east asia for my seventeenth was because of you!"
Remus' face softened, remembering their many conversations about Burmese Alchemy and Thai runes, "I know, Harry. And I wish I could have joined you but I needed to work through August to prep for the new school year. I've never formally taught before, and the curriculum needed a revamp. Their last Defence teacher didn't even teach them defencive spells."
Harry had heard all this before, when his uncle had anounced that he was moving back to Britain a day after Harry's seventeenth birthday. What followed was the biggest fight Remus and his godfather ever got into.
"But why do you have to teach here. Monsieur Sabre's said a million times he can speak to the Beauxbatons' Governing Body for you, and I'm sure something can be sorted out about your situation."
"It's too risky, and Baron's being too kind. He's just recently been made headmaster, I don't want him taking that kind of chance for me. Dumbledore already knows of my situation, and already had measures in place since I was a student here, and he needed a favour. They couldn't have another year of Dolores Umbridge not teaching the students, and if he couldn't find a replacement that's precisely what would have happened. I couldn't tell him no. Again."
"He's asked you to teach here before?"
Remus nodded, "Look, I don't want to get into this with you. Sirius and I will sort this out, eventually. It doesn't affect you, we both love you. And that's not going to change."
Harry looked down at the ground, never sure how to respond when someone said they loved him. Not that he was unfamiliar with the sentiment, orphan though he was, his parents best friends had dedicated their lives to raising him. Harry had the most adventurous childhood, they were always on the move, and his two surrogate dads balanced each other well, Sirius always up for a laugh and Remus knowing just when the joke needed to be over. When Harry had to start school, they decided on sending him to Beauxbatons Academy, and setting up home base in Paris whilst he was there.
"But," He glanced up at his uncle, a familiar stern expression on his tired features, and Harry's eyes flickered to the moon… it was a transformation period a few days ago, Remus must be exhausted, "I doubt your godfather knows that you've come here."
Harry had the decency to look abashed, "Sirius might have not got the letter about the Tournament… and I might have intercepted correspondence between him and Monsieur Sabre during the summer."
"Harry!"
"What was I going to do? Just let you guys not talk anymore? All because of some stupid job!"
"You know that Sirius prefers you to be in France. It's his decision, he is your godfather." It sounded like Remus was saying this to himself, almost as much as to Harry, "I know you're technically off age, but Sirius is still your primary guardian. You know he didn't want you to come here. I'm very disappointed in you, Harry."
"Oh come on Remus," Harry groaned, disliking how much those words actually upset him, "You weren't returning my owls-"
"I was returning your owls, I was just not writing what you wanted me to!"
Harry knew his uncle was right so stared off into the distance, not looking at anything in particular, feeling guilty and frustrated, "You know, it's not just you that I came here for."
He heard Remus sigh and felt a hand on his shoulder, "I know. I don't blame you." Harry glanced at his uncle who was staring at the castle behind them, "I'd be curious too."
"I keep thinking about all those stories you told me. Where my dad proposed, where they had their first kiss." Harry cleared his throat, "I know it's stupid." He kicked a small stone loose in the ground, uprooting it and then pushing it back down in the wet earth, "I don't know. I just wanted to be somewhere they were. I know it doesn't make any sense."
"I understand." Remus nodded, "I wasn't sure whether we made the right decision keeping you away from Hogwarts. This castle was home to so many of our memories. But, as you could tell from your first dinner here, time hasn't dimmed your stardom. We thought it better you grow up away from that attention. You have a big enough head just by being Sirius' ward." Remus chuckled, but his heart wasn't in it. "Look, I know you didn't come all the way from Beauxbatons to not enter this tournament. I was already half expecting you to show up for this Welcoming Feast when I heard about it. But you know you don't have to. You don't have to prove anything to anyone."
Harry nodded, but not responding because he didn't agree. He may not have grown up with the attention he'd have gotten if he lived in Britain, but he was aware what his parents sacrificed for him to live. He didn't know how he survived, but he felt as if he had to prove he was worth their lives.
"You better get to bed." Remus ruffled his hair affectionately, "I suppose I'll see you in class?"
Harry nodded, clearing his throat, "Remus. I did miss you."
His uncle nodded, pulling him by the side of his neck for a quick kiss on the head, "I know kid, me too."
-x-x-x-
"Bonjour!" The brunette girl called out chipperly on the front steps of Hogwarts, "I hope you all had a good first night on British soil!"
Harry smirked as Selina and Silvain grumbled, school started half an hour later at Beauxbatons, which didn't seem like much of a difference but clearly impacted his French friends.
"I don't think we've met. I'm Hermione Granger." The girl held out her hand, and Harry shook it, catching a glinting badge on her black robes.
"Head Girl?" Silvain seemed to also spot the badge, a grin on his face and Harry and his sister hit him on either side of the head before he could make some tasteless joke, "Ouch."
Hermione Granger looked momentarily confused, and Harry realised he hadn't made his introduction, "Harry Potter. These are Silvain and Selina Sabre."
"Sabre? Like Monsieur Sabre? Your headmaster?" Harry was impressed at her pronounciation, he had been learning French from his godfather since he was five, so he was fortunate to blend in fairly well with his classmates, who had spent most of last night complaining that the Hogwarts students were butchering their names.
"Oui oui, mon amie!" Selina smiled, climbing the steps and pulling the brunette in by the arm. Hermione's eyes widened, clearly not ready for the overly touchy girl. "So, will you be our tour guide."
Harry shook his head, Selina was shameless, and Hermione's face turned pink at the deep dark stare the blonde was bestowing on her. "Well, that's one way to put it." The taller girl straightened, composing herself, Selina was still holding her by the crook of the elbow, "You'll be joining classes with us Ravenclaws whilst you're at Hogwarts. I believe you're the only three seventh years from Beauxbatons?"
Harry nodded, as he spotted a tall blonde boy emerge from a lower floor. He was straightening his green tie, and he just remembered.
"Hermione, do you know a blonde girl around our age with a green tie?"
The girl seemed slightly taken aback by the informal address, but not enough to be deterred from answering the question, "Green tie means Slytherin house. There'd be a few possibilities. Tracey Davis," She frowned, "Millicent Bullstrode sometimes has blonde hair, oh and I guess Mandy's little sister, Fiona. Oh and of course Daphne Greengrass."
"Greengrass." Silvain contemplated, "Your British names are weird."
Hermione frowned at the boy, "Your surname literally just means sword. Oh." She gave a small start, taking a step to the side as the tall Blonde boy sidled next to her, "Malfoy."
"I thought I said I will be showing the seventh year Beaxbatons to their classes." The boy muttered, barely moving his lips but the sound easily carrying in the empty hall.
"And I told you that is ridiculous seeing as they'll be with the Ravenclaws so it makes sense for me to take them." Hermione's teeth shone as she forced a smile, glancing at them all with slight embarrassment.
"Well I don't want to go fetch the Durmstrangs all the way from the lake." The boy glared at Hermione, who didn't seem affected in the least bit.
"Perhaps if you wrote ahead informing of a suitable meeting location like I did, you wouldn't have to walk all the way to the lake."
"Well, you could do with a walk to the lake."
"What are you trying to imply, Malfoy."
Silvain sniggered, and the two turned their heads, suddenly remembering that they were in front of guests. "And what's funny?" Hermione snapped.
"Nothing." Silvain quickly answered, "Well no, it's just we were joking about names earlier. Just 'Mal-foi'. Bad faith." He mock grimaced, "I guess you must be an evil prat."
"And I guess your surname must be Bêtasse." Malfoy retorted, and Silvain's laughter fell at the insult and Harry took a step forward at his best friend being called stupid, and this dragged Malfoy's attention to him.
"Oh. Harry Potter." He held his hand out, "Draco Malfoy."
Harry stared at the hand, it would be awfully childish of him not to shake it.
His eyes flickered up to the steely stare, and the boy slowly lowered his hand, his jaw clenched.
Perhaps he was in the mood for being childish.
"Malfoy you should go and get the Durmstrangs."
"I don't need to take orders from you. I'm headboy."
"And I'm headgirl!"
He rolled his eyes, gave Harry one more disapproving look, and walked off, muttering something about glorified personal assistant.
"Ughh, boys like that I just want to fuck."
Hermione's face went pink in a blink at Selina's words, and Silvain groaned, never enjoying how expressive his sister was, and Harry hid a smirk, "Perhaps that was a poor translation?"
"I want to fuck him?" Selina gestured with her fists, like a tiny boxer.
"Ah." Hermione nodded, "I think… you mean something else. Up. What you said, plus up."
"Up I want to fuck him?"
Harry laughed, "You want to fuck him up." He glanced at Hermione, "Sorry."
"It's fine. That's what we're here for. To learn new languages, and, cultures." She glanced down at her arm, which Selina had looped into again. "Anyway, first lesson, Charms. Follow me."
A/N: Well that's the first chapter! What do you think ? I wanted to introduce the 'key' players in the story - but it will mostly be Daphne/Harry, Hermione/Draco - neither of which I have written before so that should be fun! The next chapter will have a bit more of Draco and Daphne! This was mostly to explain what I've changed - Sirius not going to prison and raising Harry away from England, Daphne and Draco being cousins, Hermione being in Ravenclaw and the Tournament happening in their seventh year. Feedback will be so appreciated - I've not written these ships before and not sure if I'm doing an alright job so any advice offered will be appreciated!