Chapter 5
Change of Venue
For a moment when Harry next woke – he was disturbed by a very unpleasant nightmare involving Fleur and a mob of screaming Hogwarts witches – he thought that it was just a dream. But then reality came crashing down again, and he found it remarkably difficult to suppress the panic that once again threatened to erupt. He could only wonder: what was his world coming to?
For all intents and purposes, he was engaged to be married!
It was startling and unbelievable, and that was without the fact that his prospective wife was quite literally the most beautiful woman he had ever met! How was this possible? Some part of him thought he was awfully lucky, but he was mature enough to recognize it as his hormones talking.
He had no idea what was even involved in being married. The extent of his knowledge was that they would have to live together, and he didn't know her well enough to even know if they could get along. The list of potential problems was getting longer and longer, and he really wished it would stop.
But wallowing in fear was not Harry's way, and he soon realized that his best move was to talk to Sebastian about it at greater length. The man appeared to genuinely care, and that was worth a tremendous amount in Harry's book. For his daughter's sake at the very least, it was almost a certainty that he would do what he could to help.
With that in mind he opened his eyes, and was surprised to come face to face with a tiny veela, who was standing mere inches away, staring at him with a confused frown.
"Er, hi," he said thickly.
Her frown disappeared, and she smiled at him. "Bonjour, 'Arry," she said brightly. Then the frown returned. "Pourquoi êtes-vous dormir sur le canapé?"
Harry blinked. "Er, sorry Gabrielle, I don't speak French," he said bemusedly.
The little girl's brow creased in puzzlement, and then concentration. "Non... speak... Eenglish," she said haltingly.
Harry couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him. He had never dealt with children before, but had to admit that she was adorable as she stood there looking expectantly back at him. She was going to be a knockout when she grew up!
"Sorry," he said with a patient smile.
The girl frowned at him, and then looked furtively around before suddenly climbing onto the couch, and then onto him, eliciting a soft "oof!". Taken aback, he just watched as she curled up on his chest like an enormous cat. Not knowing what else to do, he wrapped his arms around her to keep her from falling off and hurting herself.
With a mental shrug, he closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep, surprisingly comforted by her warm weight.
-break-
Six hours later, Fleur Delacour left her room in search of breakfast. She was aware that her father had spoken to Harry the previous evening, but had yet to hear the outcome, and she was very nervous. Then again, the lack of yelling was probably a good sign; she only heard one brief outburst, which was probably much better than she herself would have fared.
She could not even begin to imagine his reaction to finding out!
Were it her, and especially at that age, she would have been raging. The entire concept of arranged marriages was anathema to her – they had never been a tradition in the Delacour family, even with as much history as it had – but that was essentially what this was! The idea of allowing some random man to wed her, let alone bed her... The mere thought of it made her skin crawl.
And that was essentially how it must look to Harry. If he agreed – which he most likely would thanks to that odd nobility of his – he would essentially be signing on to allow her to have her way with him. And unlike most boys, her veela allure would be no comfort since he didn't react to it. She somehow doubted that he was the type to enjoy meaningless sex.
Sighing and shaking her head at her dark thoughts, she wandered into the sitting room, only to spot a messy mop of black hair pillowed on the arm of the couch. Fleur stopped dead in her tracks: she knew about the dinner, but had no idea that he had stayed the night! He appeared to be sleeping soundly.
Curious in spite of her mood, she padded slowly and silently around the couch, and found herself staring at the most adorable thing she had ever seen.
There was a small smile lingering on Harry's lips as he slept on, and in his arms was the very recognizable form of Gabrielle. Her head was pressed against his chest with her ear directly over his heart, and the contented look on her face as she slept was almost awe-inspiring! Fleur knew the girl had a bit of a crush on her newest hero, and apparently she had come across him some time in the night.
The smile that broke on Fleur's face was entirely genuine, and slightly mischievous. Just as silently, she padded quickly away and retrieved her camera. There was no way on Earth she was going to pass up the opportunity! This was something she wanted to remember for a long time to come.
And maybe, if they found a way to make things work, she could tease Harry with it...
-break-
Harry woke about an hour later to the sound of Sebastian's voice. He was speaking quietly in French, and then – to Harry's considerable surprise – the warm lump on his chest responded in kind. And then it all came rushing back, including his brief foray into the land of the living, when Gabrielle crawled onto the couch with him.
It made him feel warm and fuzzy to know that she trusted him enough to sleep through the night in his arms, though he wasn't entirely sure why.
Sebastian was highly amused by the scene, but shooed the little girl off quickly enough. They then sat down and had breakfast in lieu of the originally promised dinner. Though it was obvious that the man had more to say, they only indulged in idle conversation through the meal.
And Harry learned quite a lot.
Sebastian, it seemed, was the French Director of Foreign Affairs. France's dependence on other countries for various magical commodities made it a very powerful position, and he was quite well respected, having held it for many years. He was considering a run at the Minister slot in a few more, but had yet to decide.
It was enlightening to have a conversation with a politician that he felt he could very much like, and he soon discovered the root of it: the man had once been an Auror. And when Sebastian discovered his budding interest in the career, he immediately started in on stories of his adventures. It was quite an enjoyable morning, even if it did make him have second thoughts about what he wanted to do with himself after he graduated!
Finally, though, breakfast was over, and Harry had little option but to settle in for a more serious conversation. He was no closer to accepting his new situation, and positively dreaded discussing it with Fleur, but he held his emotions at bay as best he could. Giving his full attention to Sebastian, he waited for the inevitable return to the subject...
...only to find that the man had other things on his mind.
"I would like to talk to you about something, 'Arry," he began. "And I would like to cast a Calming Charm upon you beforehand this time. This will be a very difficult conversation for you, but it needs to 'appen."
Harry's stomach clenched. What else could possibly go wrong? Outwardly, however, he simply nodded his agreement, not knowing what else to do. He felt that he could trust the man, so it was best just to get it out of the way.
The Charm settled him only slightly, as he was not yet upset, but he still felt it take hold. And unlike last night, this was a much more powerful one. In many ways it held similarities to the Imperius Curse, but without the commanding nature. That only made him wonder just how bad the coming conversation was going to be!
"Now then," said Sebastian a moment later, "I must first tell you that when Fleur brought her situation to my attention, I did what any good father would do. I learned as much about you as I could."
Harry nodded; he could understand that easily enough.
"Your records with the Ministry are quite strange, 'Arry," he sighed. "We will come back to that later, but to make a long story short, I was forced to look to the Muggle world for information. I knew that you lived there, so I went to their records for your 'istory."
Harry lost a bit of color at that revelation. His life in the Muggle world was no picnic, and for that reason alone, he did not like where this was going. The grave expression Sebastian was wearing was enough to worry him significantly.
"And?" he prompted warily.
Sebastian closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, somehow seeming more disturbed about whatever he was getting at than he was the previous night, which in turn disturbed Harry even further. What had he found? It was taking an awfully long time for him to order his thoughts...
"Your records raised some questions," he sighed at length. "I was 'oping that I was wrong about my suspicions, but I 'ad a plan to deal with the situation just in case, and it was a good thing that I did. And I want you to know, 'Arry, that I would 'ave done this even if not for the situation with Fleur."
There is no doubt in Harry's mind now that this was something major, and he suspected that he was going to enjoy this about as much as he enjoyed their last conversation. He couldn't yet see where Sebastian was going with this, but it was nowhere good! He felt himself tense as he prepared for the next great shock.
"Go on," he prompted slowly.
Sebastian took a deep breath. "I needed permission to inquire about the betrothal," he explained, causing Harry to pale in an instant. "I went to see your guardians, and as I think you will expect, their response was... less than pleasant."
What little color remained in Harry's cheeks finished its exodus, and he was very thankful for the Calming Charm. He could feel his body fighting against it, wanting to react to the implications of what he was hearing! Sebastian had spoken with the Dursleys, and nothing good ever came from speaking with the Dursleys!
"What did they do?" he asked faintly.
Sebastian studied him for a moment, and then, rather than responding, he reached into his robes and plucked out a scroll, which he handed to Harry. Even more worried now, Harry unrolled it and read – and shock rolled over his features as he digested the contents:
By order of Magic:
We the undersigned do hereby release any and all claims on our ward, Harry James Potter. All rights and responsibilities are hereby transferred to Seigneur Sebastian Alexandre Delacour until such time as he reaches the age of majority or a further transfer of guardianship is issued by Seigneur Delacour.
We hereby acknowledge that this document is a binding magical contract, to supersede any other arrangements concerning our ward. We do this of our own free will, and without coercion.
So mote it be.
Signed: Petunia Anne Dursley
Signed: Vernon Paul Dursley
Harry stared blankly at the contract, emotions too numerous to name flooding through his system. Did this mean what he thought it meant? Had the Dursleys really just signed him over, forever freeing him from their influence? Pale and wide-eyed, he looked slowly up at Sebastian, who was watching him pensively.
"You may choose a different guardian if you wish, 'Arry," he offered quietly, "but so long as I 'ave any say in the matter, you will neverreturn to those people."
Harry blinked and swallowed a lump in his throat, and was unable to prevent the tears from pooling in the corners of his eyes, where they slowly began the journey down his cheeks. It was his fondest dream! For so many years he had longed to escape the Dursleys! He had the strange urge to pinch himself to see if he wasdreaming...
His jaw worked soundlessly for a moment before– "Is this real?" he croaked.
Sebastian smiled at his reaction. "Very real," he nodded.
It took a few minutes for Harry to comprehend the sheer magnitude of the change this would incur in his life. He would never again have to sleep in a cupboard. He would never again have to endure their hatred of him, or be beaten for things his cousin had done. And no more serving as a target for Dudley's gang.
But what else did it mean? His life was suddenly open and empty before him, and he couldn't help but wonder what would happen to him now. It was so wonderfully terrifying! He might have a chance to lead the life he'd always wanted!
"Thank you," he whispered quietly. And then– "Where will I stay?"
"That is entirely up to you," offered Sebastian carefully. "If you choose to stay with us at our 'ome in France, we will welcome you with open arms."
Overcome with emotion, Harry allowed the silence to continue. His head spun with the changes of the last twelve hours. He had no idea how he was going to deal with this, but for the first time in his life, he felt a true ray of hope, and it warmed his soul. And it was all because of this one man, who had taken the time to see things as they really were.
And then Harry found himself wondering exactly how much Sebastian knew. Obviously it was enough to convince him that Harry shouldn't stay with the Dursleys, but how much was that? He didn't have to wait long to find out, though, because–
"Are you familiar with the art of Legilimency?" asked Sebastian quietly.
Harry shook his head at the seemingly unrelated question.
"It is, essentially, the art of entering another person's mind," he explained, causing a shiver to run down Harry's spine. "As an Auror, I myself was trained as a Master Legilimens. There is a companion art, Occlumency, that helps to prevent such intrusions, and I recommend that you learn it, but that is not the issue."
Harry felt a bit faint at the implications. Was he suggesting what he thought he was suggesting? The idea that Sebastian might know the truth was terrifying! What would that mean for him? How would he ever be able to live with the shame? He unconsciously gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles whitening under his firm grip, but Sebastian held his gaze and didn't notice.
"Legilimency is not something I care for," he admitted after a moment, "It is a serious violation of a person's privacy, but I was quite thoroughly disgusted by them, and concerned for your wellbeing. After they signed the contract, I 'ad a look through their memories. I tell you this, 'Arry, because I want you to understand that you need not 'ide it from me."
His countenance darkened as he explained, "I know exactly 'ow they treated you."
Harry's breath caught in his throat, and his vision dimmed slightly, even under the influence of the Calming Charm. His treatment at their hands was his deepest, darkest secret! He never wanted anyone to know of that! What must Sebastian think of him?
And Sebastian answered in a gentle tone, almost as though he had heard the unspoken question – which he may well have done. "You 'ave nothing to be ashamed of," he said seriously. "On the contrary, I am thoroughly impressed with you. There are not many who can survive such an experience without losing themselves, and you 'ave done an admirable job."
Harry's jaw involuntary dropped open in astonishment. "But–"
"No," interrupted Sebastian. "It is the truth, nothing less. You were in no position to control what they did to you, and you did nothing whatsoever to deserve it. I 'ave never in all my years seen such a clear-cut case of criminal abuse as that one. And they will pay, 'Arry. The process 'as already been started."
Harry stared back at Sebastian, completely dumbfounded. Sebastian knew about the beatings and other abuse, and it impressed him that Harry survived it? And he even went so far as to free him from them forever, which nobody else had even tried to do! And they were going to be punished for it? Even Professor Dumbledore had never paid attention to him when he explained it, but Sebastian had done all this?
"How?" he choked out. "How did you do it?"
Sebastian chuckled darkly and leaned forward. "I think it no secret that they did not want you there?" he asked. Receiving a nod in reply, he continued. "I merely gave them the impression that I would..." His face twisted up into an odd combination of disgust and grim satisfaction. "...make you disappear. They signed the contract without 'esitation."
Shocked, Harry gaped openly at him. "You told them you were going to kill me?" he asked incredulously.
Sebastian snorted and shook his head. "I did not say that, but they chose to interpret my words that way," he smirked. "Using a device called a Pensieve, a recording will be made of the conversation, and it is damning evidence. They will be tried in a Muggle court for conspiracy to commit murder, and they will be sentenced accordingly. The Director of Magical Law Enforcement is an old friend of mine and is arranging it, but nobody else needs to know unless you wish to tell them."
Harry gulped as he tried to process everything. He was getting married to a beautiful woman. He was free of the Dursleys. The Dursleys were going to jail! It was almost like Fate was, in her own twisted sort of way, trying to compensate him for his lot in life. It was all too good too be true!
"What's the catch?" he asked in raspy voice, unable to believe that much good fortune so easily, even if it did come with an arranged marriage. "There's always a catch."
Sebastian sighed. "There is no catch in the way you mean, 'Arry," he said reassuringly. "You are free of them, and will remain so. Either we will take you in, which I would 'onestly prefer, or I will transfer your guardianship to whomever you choose. It really is that simple. There are issues we will 'ave to deal with regarding why you were sent there in the first place, but it is my 'ope that you will not need to be involved."
"Why?" he asked, his voice thick with emotion. "Why are you doing this, I mean?"
"What you would you do?" retorted Sebastian. "Would you leave a child in those conditions if you could do something about it? My daughters think very 'ighly of you, as do I, and my wife will adore you. You deserve to 'ave a family, and if you will let us, we would like to be that family. I can promise you that you will never again be treated in such a despicable manner." Smiling slightly, he added, "And besides, if you do not change your mind, you will soon be family in any event."
Harry shook slightly under the gale of emotions he was experiencing. He'd always wanted a family, always wondered what it would be like to have one. He had imagined many times what it would feel like to have someone there for him, to see him off to school, and to welcome him home. To have someone to turn to for advice when things got rough.
To have someone love him.
He felt compelled to answer before he lost his nerve, but it was difficult to do. How could he possibly express his gratitude? The man had taken him in, sight unseen! How could he ever possibly repay that? But he nevertheless forced the words out, desperately afraid of losing the opportunity.
"I– I think I'd like that," he said gruffly.
Sebastian smiled gently at him and pushed up from the table, only to come around and pull him into a surprisingly warm hug. Harry stiffened under his touch – he'd only ever been hugged by Mrs. Weasley and Hermione before – but he could feel the genuine emotion behind it. His mind was in turmoil, and his emotions were so powerful that he could not keep them inside no matter how hard he tried, and he let out an audible sob for the first time that he could recall.
"Welcome to the family, 'Arry," he heard whispered in his ear.
Chapter 6
The Granger Grill
With his head still spinning, Harry returned to the castle just before lunch and plopped himself down in the Great Hall. So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours that he didn't know which way was up. He felt like all of his anchors in life had summarily been uprooted, and now he was drifting.
Their conversation continued for quite some time after he got himself under control, mostly about what Sebastian had uncovered in Harry's records. He was surprised to realize that he had never considered asking about his parents' Will; he knew such things existed, but it never even occurred to him that they might have one. The fact that it was sealed was bothersome to say the least: he would really like to read it, if only to see their words.
That Dumbledore was his financial guardian was also bothersome, especially when Sebastian explained that he probably had a lot more money than he thought. The man was shocked to learn that Harry only knew of his trust vault when apparently there were others. He didn't have the specifics, but it was enough to make Harry even angrier with Dumbledore than he already was.
And then there was the Prophecy, which likely explained it all in some way.
Sebastian had no idea what was in it or what it was about, but recommended that they not bother with it until things settled down. Prophecy was perilous, he'd said, and sometimes just knowing one could change the outcome in negative ways. They would worry about it at some indeterminate point in the future, and he advised Harry to simply go on with his life.
For Harry, who had heard a true Prophecy once before, the result was indecision. Had he listened more closely to Trelawney last year, then perhaps Sirius would be free! Then again, how could he have known? He hadn't even known about Pettigrew at the time, so he might have done something foolish to his own innocent godfather! It drove home the idea that it was dangerous.
Beyond those things, not much was discussed other than an invitation to a family meeting so he could properly be introduced.
The idea of having Sebastian as his guardian was growing on him, but it also made him feel guilty when he thought about the Weasleys. On one hand, they'd been there for him for three plus years now, and he had the odd sense that they should have the right to take him in. But on the other, Sebastian had done one thing that the Weasleys never even tried to do: he got him away from the Dursleys.
That was a huge deal, and the main reason why he agreed so readily. The Weasleys would just have to live with it. It didn't hurt that, to his own considerable surprise, he felt more comfortable with Sebastian than he did with Molly and Arthur. He couldn't yet explain why, but there it was.
"Harry?" interrupted Hermione's voice. He looked up as she neared the table, and her eyes widened when she took in his drawn appearance. "Are you alright?" she asked urgently, quickly taking her seat. "I was worried when you didn't come in last night. Where were you? What happened?"
Harry glanced over and saw Ron coming in, and shook his head. "Later, Hermione," he said, throwing a significant glance in that direction. "We'll talk later, okay?"
Hermione watched him worriedly for a moment, but relented when she understood his message.
He was dismayed by the hoarseness of his voice, but there was little he could do about it. Trying to cover his pensive mood, he turned to dish up, though he knew he wouldn't eat even half of what he took. His stomach felt rather smaller than usual today, which was saying something.
Lunch went by without incident, except that Ron was once again the center of attention with his overly-embellished tales of the Second Task. Harry scowled at him; wasn't this the guy who accused him of lying about putting his name in the Goblet in the first place? It was awfully hypocritical of him!
They returned to the common room after lunch, and when Ron challenged Harry to a game of chess, he begged off for a nap. But rather than go to sleep, he just went upstairs and donned his invisibility cloak. Ten minutes later, after a whispered instruction in her ear, he followed Hermione out of the portrait hole.
"What's going on, Harry?" she asked when they were finally out of earshot of the Fat Lady.
"Not here, Hermione," he said firmly. "This is serious. I don't want it getting around."
Her eyes widened at his tone, and his point was made when they rounded the next corner, only to see several Slytherin students standing against one of the walls. Harry eyed them warily, but otherwise ignored them; he had bigger concerns than whatever they were getting up to. Hermione did not ask again.
He led her down to the lake, and they both found comfortable spots on his favorite rock. He was emotionally exhausted, and he didn't want to go through it all again, but he felt that he had very little choice. He needed her to know, and was in desperate need of her opinion.
And so, for the next ten minutes, he told her in reverse order about the things he learned from Sebastian. She was understandably shocked, but mostly took it in stride. When he mentioned that Sebastian had taken over his guardianship, though, she squealed joyfully.
"Oh, I'm so happy for you!" she burst, wrapping him in a life-threatening hug. "You've wanted to get away from those people for so long!"
"Yeah, I guess so," he said with a faint smile.
Hermione frowned and cocked her head at him. "...but?" she prompted.
"I'm happy, Hermione, don't get me wrong," he sighed. "It's just– I don't know them, really, so I don't know what to expect. And what about the Weasleys?"
She smiled softly at him for the question. "You have to do what you think is right, Harry," she advised him. "The Weasleys care about you, and they'll respect your decision either way. Is that what has you so down?"
"No," he said heavily. "That was the good news. The rest is bloody insane."
Hermione frowned, and Harry proceeded to explain to her what Sebastian said about life debts and veela magic. Then, after extracting a promise not to tell anyone else, he explained what actually happened in the lake. Her eyes widened as she listened, her jaw dropping open. He couldn't fault her for her reaction.
"But– But you're only fourteen, Harry!" she screeched loudly. Then, realizing how far her voice was carrying, she took a quick look around before hissing, "You can't get married! You're too young!"
Harry turned and speared her with a pained look. "Don't you think I know that?" he whispered. "What choice is there, Hermione? What am I supposed to do? Let her die?"
Hermione's mouth snapped shut, and her inner struggle was clearly visible in her eyes. Again, he couldn't blame her: he'd had many of the same thoughts that she was likely having at this very moment. Only difference was, he was the one who had to live with the consequences!
"I'm surprised you believe this," he noted after a moment. "I didn't think you would."
A tear came to her eye, and she looked away. "I saw it in a book on veela," she said sheepishly. "I was looking into them because Ron's been so... so... so infuriating, staring at her like he does!" Suddenly she looked back at him, her eyes filling with horror. "Oh Merlin, Harry, he'll be impossible when he hears about this! No wonder you didn't want to talk earlier!"
Harry's shoulders slumped in defeat, and he drew his knees up to his chest. It was, perhaps, the second biggest problem with the whole thing! Ron's jealousy was a major issue – the Tournament proved that quite admirably – and he had no doubt that it would result in another flare-up. He wasn't ready to deal with it, but he didn't see much of a choice.
"I know," he whispered quietly. "I don't know what to do, Hermione. You know how he is."
Hermione glowered at nothing in particular. "He'll go on about your 'perfect life'," she spat. "Honestly! Sometimes I wonder why we even bother with him!"
"He's not always been like this," he replied morosely.
But he didn't need Hermione's sad, patronizing smile to know that it was a lie. True, Ron had been their friend for years, but all he had to do was look at how Hermione joined the group in the first place to see what kind of person he really was. It because of one of his careless insults, the kind he hurled with wild abandon at anyone he thought was beneath him!
And ultimately, even that boiled down to jealousy! He was jealous of Hermione's intelligence. He was jealous of the people around him who didn't need The Boy Who Lived to make them feel good about themselves. Hell, he was even jealous of the Slytherins for the dark unity of their House! Ron was just plain jealous!
"He has, Harry," she said, echoing his thoughts. "We just didn't want to see it before."
Harry heaved a deep sigh. "So what do I do?" he asked rhetorically. "I can't keep it from him, but I don't want the whole bloody school knowing. Mr. Delacour said he'll deal with the press, but I don't see how."
"I guess you really don't have a choice in this, do you?" she asked plaintively.
Harry shook his head and looked away again. "No," he said bluntly. "She's as good as dead if I don't, and it's not like she set it up or something. Hell, I don't think she even likes me!"
Silence descended, and Harry allowed that thought to percolate. What did Fleur think of him? She had been fairly condescending to him with the exception of those moments after he saved her life, but really, she was that way with everybody! Was that really who she was? Was he going to tie his future to someone who might turn out to be as annoying as Malfoy?
He shuddered at the thought. If that was the case, then it might be better just to commit suicide! Then again, he couldn't see someone like Sebastian raising a daughter that behaved like that, and it confused him greatly. Nothing made any sense!
"I think you should give her a chance," said Hermione after a while, her voice low and thoughtful. "We really don't know her, do we? Maybe she's not as bad as we think."
"Maybe," he sighed. "But you know my luck, Hermione."
Hermione huffed, but didn't deny the charge. "Just talk to her," she advised. "If nothing else, let her know that you won't let her push you around."
Harry snorted at the thought. He was not the most outgoing or self-confident person on the planet, and he was well aware of it, but he was certainly no pushover! If Malfoy couldn't get under his skin after all this time, then Fleur wouldn't either. Still, the idea of being forced to spend his life with someone like that did rankle!
She was no Dark Witch, though, of that much he was certain, and that made all the difference. If she were, then he might have considered declining, but she wasn't. And as much as he hated to admit it, she was trapped just as thoroughly as he was, at least if she wanted to live. And who didn't?
"I guess you're right," he said grudgingly.
Hermione sighed and lifted herself off the rock, smoothing her skirt as she went. "Come on, Harry," she ordered. "Let's go back to the tower, and you can take that nap. You look like you really need it, and we can talk more about this later."
"Yeah," he sighed. "Later."
Chapter 7
Down By the Water
From her position at the Ravenclaw table, a very subdued Fleur cautiously observed Harry Potter. Far from the relaxed sleeping boy she had seen on the couch that morning, he was now pale and drawn, and very obviously troubled. She could not blame him in the slightest, for she looked much the same.
The Beauxbatons students had taken to ridiculing her behind her back over her dismal performance, in French of course so their rivals would not understand. But it was remarkably easy to ignore something that normally would have gotten to her before now: she had far bigger problems than some stupid Tournament! And she had no idea how to proceed!
As usual, Harry sat with his two friends. Fleur did not at all like the obnoxious redhead; she had heard the rumors he spread about his own friend after the Selection, and was well aware that he was now telling tales to anyone who would listen about how he supposedly helped to rescue her and Gabrielle. Why Harry put up with his lies was a complete mystery!
His other friend, Granger, was a different story. She was a self-assured girl, very intelligent, and was referred to in the halls of Hogwarts as "the Gryffindor know-it-all." Fleur herself had yet to see her display such behavior, however, and held out a modicum of hope that she was a better friend than the boy. Unfortunately, that was where her hopes ended.
The boy's lustful stares were not lost on her, nor was Granger's disgust with the situation. This was not promising, for most women despised her when they discovered the effect she had on their men. She herself despised it, but there was little she could do short of leaving the room!
She was certain the girl would hold it against her just like everyone else did. Would they get along? Would they fight? The last thing she wanted was to take Harry's friends from him along with everything else he was so selflessly giving up for her.
As to Harry himself, he glanced pensively in her direction from time to time, but otherwise ignored her. She was surprised to find that the reaction hurt, but there it was. Did he think her unworthy to be with? He was not like the other boys, and she somehow knew that her beauty would not help her in winning his respect.
To feel that way about a boy three years her junior was unnerving to say the least. This boy – no, this young man – had defeated challenges that she herself could barely face, and had rescued her in the process! To do so at fourteen made him a truly amazing wizard, and though she was loathe to admit it, she was somewhat in awe of him.
Her father told her of his reaction to the news, and she was very relieved, but she also felt terribly guilty for taking away his choices. A surprisingly large part of her thought she should simply allow herself to die, because it was wrong to ruin his life like this! But she was selfish enough – and scared enough – that she could not bring herself to do it.
"Stop spacing out!" hissed one of her classmates disgustedly. "You're making us look bad!"
Fleur turned and stared down her nose at the girl, making use of every single one of her long years of experience. Rather than speak, she simply met the girl's gaze, and – using a technique her father had taught her – put on the most intimidating look she could muster. Predictably, the girl quailed, and Fleur silently went back to her Harry watching.
If there was one good thing about the situation, it was that he wasn't bad looking. In fact, he was surprisingly cute! If she could convince him to get rid of those awful rags he wore on the weekends, she suspected that he would be a fine specimen, and probably earn a lot more respect than he currently had.
Didn't he realize that perception was as important as reality? It was likely one of the reasons he was picked on so frequently by the students, especially the Slytherins: he dressed like a beggar, as though his appearance meant nothing to him. It was only his occasional self-consciousness – like at the wand weighing – that told her otherwise.
That, though, could be fixed, and if she was going to marry him, then she was going to help him do it. It was nothing vain on her part; it was merely that she wanted what was best for him, and saw it as her duty. He was a powerful figure, and unless she missed her guess, he had no idea just how powerful he was in the eyes of the Wizarding public!
But that was an issue for later, and as he rose from his seat across the hall, she turned her thoughts to events that were much closer. In less than a month she would be married to a hero of their world! She was equal parts horrified and fascinated by the concept! She could only hope that he was as good a man as he appeared to be, or her life would quickly turn into a living hell.
There was, after all, no divorce in their world.
She was so lost in her worries that she almost missed his approach. She had thought he was leaving the hall, but no, he was coming to talk to her! For the first time in a long time, she felt her confidence all but evaporate: here it was, the moment of truth, and she would likely find out what he really thought of the whole thing!
Would he be angry with her? Would he yell at her? Would he demand things from her? The latter, at least, she was relatively certain would not happen; it was not his way from what she had seen of him. Still, she was unaccountably nervous about being on the wrong side of his temper after seeing him unflinchingly face down a Hungarian Horntail!
He came to a halt just behind her seat, and she was startled to realize that he was as nervous as she was, at least if the wringing of his hands was any indication...
"Er, hi," he said with a quick, faint smile. "Can we talk privately?"
Fleur stared in surprise for a moment before shaking herself out of it. "Oui," she nodded. "Of course."
He glanced over his shoulder at the doors. "Er, outside maybe?" he asked tentatively. "It's too easy for people to listen here."
"Zat will be fine," she agreed.
"Right."
Fleur followed him out of the hall, inwardly stunned at just hownervous he was! They remained silent as they made their way down to the lake, drawing curious and speculative looks from teacher and student alike. That made her shudder: the fallout from this would be horrendous! Her father was good with public relations, but she doubted that anyone was good enough for this!
He led her to a large rock overlooking the water, and she shuddered at the memories the sight provoked. That blasted lake was what started this whole affair in the first place! If only she could go back in time and change things...
"Er, I hope this is okay," he said nervously.
"It is fine," she said with a small smile to ease his nerves. "I am just not fond of ze water. Veela and water, zey do not mix."
Harry frowned as he crawled up on the rock and sat down cross-legged. "Why?" he asked curiously.
Fleur studied him for a moment, and found that his curiosity was genuine. Shrugging internally, and deciding that they had to start somewhere, she likewise levered herself up and sat down next to him. Her own nerves eased with the realization that he wasn't angry with her.
"We are creatures of air and fire," she explained. "Our magic is based on zose elements. Water interferes wiz it."
Harry frowned deeply and looked away from her out over the water as he contemplated her answer. His nerves were still plainly showing in the way his fingers worried at the hem of his robes; he was clearly uncomfortable with her. She had no idea what to do to fix it, either.
"So you were at a pretty big disadvantage then?" he asked eventually.
Fleur sighed at the memory. "Oui," she said quietly. "Zo I think zat your disadvantage is just as great. You do not 'ave as much education."
Harry snorted at that. "Maybe," he agreed grudgingly, "but I had help. I never could have done it on my own."
Fleur was shocked by the guilt that washed over his features, but something did not add up. As far as she could tell, he was not the sort to cheat! Drawing on every ounce of maturity she could muster, she forced herself not to jump to conclusions, even if he did seem to think badly of his own actions.
"'ow so?" she asked curiously.
A fond smile appeared on his face. "One of the House Elves is a friend of mine," he explained. "He turned up with the Gillyweed right before the Task started. He said he overheard some of the Professors talking and decided to help me out." He suddenly snorted, his morbid amusement apparent. "I fell asleep in the library trying to figure it out. I wouldn't even have made it if he didn't wake me up."
Fleur was surprised he would call a House Elf his friend – and then, as she listened, even more so that he felt guilty about it! "Zere is nuzzing wrong wiz zat," she frowned. "Your friends are allowed to 'elp you."
"I guess," he said morosely, dropping his gaze to his lap. And then he sighed and abruptly changed the subject. "Did your dad tell you?" he asked simply.
Fleur stared at him, taken aback by how quickly he switched tracks. It took some effort to get her wits about her in the wake of it. When she did, she also gave a breathy sigh, and leaned back on her hands, still watching him intently.
"If you mean zat you 'ave accepted ze proposal, zen yes, 'e as told me," she said quietly. Lowering her voice slightly – and unable to prevent her own guilt from coming through in it – she whispered, "I am zo sorry, 'Arry. I did not mean for zis to 'appen to you, and I cannot zank you enough for what you are doing."
Harry shook his head. "It's not your fault, Fleur," he said thickly. "It just is. I honestly don't know how to deal with it, but I can't let you die."
Tired of staring at his ear, and moved by the sudden turbulence of his emotions, Fleur reached out and caught his chin with one slender finger, using it to turn his head to face her. The intimacy of the gesture surprised her as much as it did him; she did not generally touch boys, because they tended to take it as an invitation. Harry, on the other hand, merely searched her eyes for sincerity as she spoke.
"Zank you," she repeated with feeling. "I do not know 'ow eizzer, but I 'ope we will manage. If we must be togezzer, zen I want us to be 'appy."
He smiled faintly at her. "Me too," he admitted. "But this– this is–"
He huffed and turned away again, his struggle for words clear on his face. She simply gave him the time; what else could she do? It was an impossible situation, and nobody had any answers! They were going to have to muddle through it, and that would take patience.
As the silence stretched she could tell that he was debating with himself over something, but what it was, she could only imagine. She had to admit that he was rather brave to do this; most men would have run away screaming, and the few that remained would have wanted to use her as a toy! But Harry? He was genuinely concerned, and she could tell that he would never harm her.
"I've never even had a girlfriend before," he finally forced himself to admit, his voice barely above a whisper. "What am I supposed to do?"
Fleur was stunned by his simple pronouncement. He'd never had a girlfriend before? How was that even possible? He was one of the most famous wizards on the planet, and the girls were lining up around the block to get with him! He could have anyone he wanted!
No, stunned was not the word! That he hadn't taken advantage of his fame with the ladies, it was a truly startling revelation. And unbeknownst to him, it made her feel vastly more comfortable with him, and raised her opinion of him still further. Though it also broke her heart that he would never have the chance to find love out in the world.
And if he was going to be so honest with her...
"I 'ave not eizzer, 'Arry," she admitted, her voice just as thick with emotion. "Ze boys, zey do not care about anything but 'ow I look. I 'ave never wanted zat."
Harry snorted morosely. "The girls only care about the bloody scar on my forehead," he sighed, "so I guess I know how you feel."
Fleur started blankly at him, and then – she just couldn't help it – she threw her head back and laughed. She had not expected this! She knew little about him, but perhaps there was a chance! If they could find a common ground, then they might just survive it intact!
As the pieces came together, she realized that, in at least this one way, they were very much alike. Both were looked upon as objects, mere prizes to be obtained by the opposite sex, and they both hated it. And if she was reading him right, then Harry, too, had been waiting for that special person to come along and see him for who he really was!
Not seeing what she was laughing about, Harry turned back to her with a startled and hurt look, but she just shook her head at him.
"We are quite ze pair, non?" she chortled. "Both of us are stuck, and both of us 'ave nevair 'ad experience wiz anything like zis!"
Harry snorted once, and then, finally seeing the humor in it, he started to chuckle. He didn't outright laugh – she'd never heard him do so, actually – but a lot of the tension left his body, to her relief. She wanted to get to know him, but it would very difficult if he was afraid of her!
And in a flash of insight, she realized that she was going to have to completely drop her public attitude around him, or he would be hard pressed to figure her out by the time they were married.
That thought actually frightened her. For so long she had only let her family see who she was, and though she knew that someday she would have to let someone else in, she had not expected it to happen so soon. But there was nothing else she could do, for he deserved to know exactly who he was marrying, for better or worse.
"We are, aren't we?" he sighed, distracting her from her musings. "So where do we go from here? Like I said, I haven't a bloody clue how any of this works."
Fleur shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine, 'Arry."
Harry grunted his understanding and lapsed into silence, staring out over the water again. To her surprise, it was not uncomfortable: she could see the gears turning in his head, and knew that he was thinking hard about their situation. Really, his presence was quite comforting.
Though that probably had something to do with the fact that she felt so safe with him; being rescued by someone will do that to you.
Finally, many minutes later, he turned back, and she was surprised to see nervousness of a different sort on his features. There was a certain vulnerability in his eyes, as though he'd decided to let her in at least a little. And this time, his small smile didn't falter.
"Fleur, would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?" he asked tentatively.
Whatever she expected him to say, it wasn't that. She stared blankly at him for a moment before shaking herself out her stupor and tilting her head as she studied him. "Are you asking me on a date?" she asked with genuine curiosity.
Harry ran a hand nervously through his hair. "Yeah," he nodded. "I just figured, you know, if we're going to get married, then..." He trailed off with a shrug, and then his face fell and he turned his gaze to his hands where they were resting in his lap. "I'll understand if you don't want to, though," he added quietly.
His complete lack of confidence was remarkably endearing. Here was a young man who already knew that they would be married in a matter of weeks, and yet he was nervous about asking her on a date? He was even more unassuming that she would have guessed!
"I would love to go wiz you, 'Arry," she smiled, causing him to look hopefully back up at her. "I am sorry, I was just surprised is all. I was not expecting it."
The smile that lit his face at her response was much more natural, and transformed his entire appearance. He looked so happy! It reached all the way to his brilliant green eyes, and for the first time, she saw reflected in them exactly what she was suddenly feeling herself.
She saw hope.
Chapter 8
The Family Meeting
Harry and Fleur spent nearly two more hours out by the lake, and while they didn't touch on anything horrifically personal, it went a long way toward making Harry feel more comfortable with her. If nothing else, her lack of experience in the romance department was a huge relief! Neither of them knew what to expect, and they would be figuring it out together.
She also – very hesitantly – brought up the issue of her attitude, and he was surprised to find that it was something that she had purposely cultivated. Early on at Beauxbatons, she had not been able to escape the drooling boys and jealous girls, and was forced to push them away. She admitted that it had so far prevented her from making any real friends.
While it was not how he would have chosen to handle the situation, Harry took it in stride as much as he could, and resolved to keep an open mind. He did have some of the same issues – his scar drew more attention than he would have liked – but he could admit that it was different. The way Ron alone reacted to her spoke volumes, and really, it would be an annoying way to live.
As for himself, he didn't have a whole lot to tell her. He didn't know her nearly well enough to get into his life before Hogwarts, and there wasn't all that much else to say about himself. Apart from explaining how his friends came to be – she got a kick out of the troll incident – he had little that he was comfortable sharing. Fortunately, she seemed to understand.
It was back to classes after that, and as they were both behind due to the many practice sessions they held for the Tournament, they didn't see each other again until Wednesday evening. At Sebastian's request, he met Fleur at the Beauxbatons carriage, from where they were to take the Floo to Chateau Delacour in France. It was time for the family meeting, and he was desperately nervous!
"Are you ready?" she asked as he stood there staring into the fire.
Harry glanced at her and nodded, but couldn't bring himself to speak. He felt as though his journey through that fireplace would irrevocably change his life! He was no closer to accepting the change in guardianship – let alone his impending marriage! – and this would make it so much more... real!
He even dressed up for the occasion. What few normal clothes he had were horrendous, so he had little choice but to wear the same robes that he wore to the Yule Ball. Fleur was surprised when she saw him – the way her eyebrows leapt off her face said it all – but fortunately, she had the tact not to mention it.
And now, here he was, about to make the leap...
"Relax, 'Arry," she advised. "You 'ave already met Papa and Gabrielle, and Maman does not bite."
Harry flushed in embarrassment at being so transparent, and as he smiled sheepishly up at her, he was momentarily struck by her beauty. For anyone else, she would not have been much to look at in her Beauxbatons blue everyday robes. For Fleur, however, the effect was stunning, and it made him feel very inadequate, which did not help matters!
She handed him the pot without further ado, and he obediently reached in and took a pinch of the powder. And then, as he tossed it into the fire and watched the flames turn green, he took a deep, steadying breath. This was it!
"Chateau Delacour!" he called out as he stepped in.
The ride was nothing like he expected. His only real experience was the short hop between the Burrow and Diagon Alley, but this was something else entirely! Grate after grate flashed by, and it went on seemingly forever! By the time he tumbled out of the fireplace on the other end, he felt like ten minutes had passed.
He landed in an undignified heap, and silently cursed his seeming inability to handle any form of magical travel whatsoever.
Groaning in discomfort, he cautiously pushed himself back to his feet and tried to refrain from dusting his robes off over the beautiful white marble flooring. The room he arrived in was stunning. It was clearly an entrance hall of some sort, but even so, it practically cried out to him that this room alone was probably worth more than his entire vault!
The marble he was standing on was only a small square, perhaps four feet on a side, in front of the large fireplace. All around it was dark hardwood laid in thin slats, shined to a high gloss. Where it met the walls it gave way to earthen tones which rose up from the ground, only to change abruptly to a pale blue at the halfway point.
As his eyes continued upward, he saw a beautiful crystal chandelier in the middle of the ceiling, its facets reflecting myriad colors from the flames of the candles within. He actually had to pause for a moment as he wondered how they managed to keep it lit, but then he remembered that they probably used magic, and his eyes continued on.
Across from the huge, black marble fireplace that he had just been ejected from, there was a set of double doors that led deeper into the home. On the wall to the right was a much larger and extremely sturdy wooden door, not unlike the ones that protected the Hogwarts entry. The wall on the left was entirely made of glass, with a set of sliding panes in the middle to allow for entry.
Unfortunately, it was too dark to see what might be beyond them.
He felt very small by the time he finished his circuit, and then one of the double doors opened to reveal a woman straight out of a fairy tale. Her silvery hair, so very like Fleur's, was cut much shorter, falling only to her shoulders, and framed a delicate face with kind blue eyes. She wore a shimmering blue dress, which made Harry wonder if it was a family color or something.
She smiled kindly at him as she moved in his direction. "Welcome to your new 'ome, 'Arry," she said softly. "I am Arienne, Fleur's muzzer."
Harry swallowed a lump in his throat and bobbed his head. "Hi," he said shyly. "It's nice to meet you, ma'am."
The fireplace flared again before she could respond, and Fleur stepped gracefully out, which he envied. She brightened immediately upon catching sight of her mother, and was in her arms before Harry could so much as blink. He felt a pang of jealousy – he wished his own mother was there for him to hug – but squashed it ruthlessly.
"Maman!" she gushed. "I am so 'appy to be 'ome!"
Arienne gave her daughter a lingering squeeze and then gently separated from her. "Dinner is waiting in ze dining room," she advised, and then she moved over to put her arm over Harry's shoulders, forcing him to restrain an impulse to flinch away from her. "Come, 'Arry," she said gently. "Let us get to know you."
Harry swallowed thickly in trepidation.
As Arienne guided him out of the room, he reflected that of all the things he had faced – and there were so many – this was the scariest! He was in a strange country, with a strange family, and he had to get to know them because he would be living here and marrying their daughter! He was desperately afraid that he would do something wrong!
They passed out of the room into a surprisingly open hall, with mostly doorless arches leading to various other parts of the home. It was designed with the perfect balance between privacy and openness, and Harry found that he rather liked it. He caught glimpses of other rooms as they walked, and noted that while they were impeccably decorated, many seemed well used and loved, unlike the entryway.
Arienne led them through a door at the end, and where he expected a grand ballroom, he instead found a small, intimate dining area. It contained a simple oaken table with comfortable looking seats surrounding it, and a small door led out the other side, presumably to the kitchen. At the table sat Sebastian, an older veela woman he didn't know, and–
"'ARRY!" squealed Gabrielle.
And she was off like a shot! He barely had time to extract himself from Arienne before she barreled into him, staggering him and knocking him back a few steps. He instinctively brought his arms around her to keep her from falling and hurting herself, and his shock shone on his face.
"Er, hi," he greeted faintly.
The girl pulled her head away from where she had buried it in his chest, and her curious blue eyes peered up at him, edged with admiration, from under long silver bangs. "Ai-je pour vous?" she asked hopefully.
Harry opened his mouth, but then closed it again, having absolutely no clue what she just said – but the startled laughter from Arienne and Fleur told him that he'd missed something. He looked up and met Fleur's amused gaze with a questioning look.
"She wants to know if she can keep you," she grinned at him, causing him to blush. And then her gaze shifted to Gabrielle and her grin turned evil. "Désolé, Gabrielle, il est à moi, mais je vous laisse lui emprunter de temps en temps si vous voulez."
Gabrielle pouted at her, her lower lip sticking out cutely.
Harry blinked. "Er, do I want to know?" he asked tentatively.
Fleur smiled toothily at him. "I told 'er zat you are mine, but zat I will let 'er borrow you from time to time."
Harry blushed beet red, and came very close to burying his face in Gabrielle's hair to avoid the extremely amused scrutiny of his apparent new family. He supposed that it was good that they were joking with him, but he couldn't quite bring himself to fully share in their amusement. He was far too nervous.
"Come, 'Arry," offered a still-grinning Arienne, finally taking pity on him. "'ave a seat. Zis is my muzzer, Catarine, Fleur's grandmuzzer."
Gabrielle scrambled down out of his arms as they made their way to the table, and Arienne took her by the shoulder to guide her to a seat on the other side. Harry was neutral on that: the little girl amused him, and he wouldn't have minded sitting next to her. Then again, as Arienne leaned down to say something to her in French, he figured she needed a translator for the evening.
"Bonjour, Grand-mère," smiled Fleur, drawing his attention back to the table and the older veela. "Do not worry, 'Arry, she is not as scary as she looks."
"Thank you zo much, Fleur," snorted the older woman sarcastically. "You make such ze impression for me."
"Er, hi," Harry greeted softly.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, 'Arry," she said with a genuine smile. "Although I must admit zat I am surprised. I zought zat Fleur would date an average boy before setting her sights so 'igh."
Harry turned an even deeper shade of red as he respectfully held Fleur's chair out for her like he'd seen so many boys do at the Yule Ball. It earned him a pleased smile as he took his own seat, which he returned only faintly. To say that he was overwhelmed would be putting it mildly!
And it wasn't over yet, for Sebastian was already responding to Catarine's barb. "Fleur does not do things by 'alf, Maman," he smirked, "as you will soon find out." Then, addressing the entire table, he added, "And let us speak in English tonight since 'Arry is not versed in our language. I will not 'ave 'im excluded from the conversation."
"Thank you, sir," said Harry quietly, genuinely appreciating the gesture; one of his greatest fears was that he would arrive here and not be able to understand anyone. He'd even gotten a book on French out of the library, for all the good it did to read about the language; he knew next to nothing!
"Please call me Sebastian, 'Arry," smiled the man. "We do not stand on ceremony 'ere."
Harry bobbed his head in understanding, though he doubted he could break that particular habit so easily, and then a soft noise caught his attention. He turned to see several House Elves entering with platters of food, and smiled warmly at them. It was easier to be around the subservient creatures than it was to be around humans, and ever since he freed Dobby, he'd been quite partial to them.
"Thank you," he offered one as it handed him a drink.
The elf smiled happily at him in return, obviously pleased.
"So, mon cher fils, is zis why you insisted zat I come tonight?" asked Caterine, turning a curious look on Sebastian.
"Yes, Maman," he nodded. "There are two announcements that I wish to make before we eat tonight. One should truly be Fleur's, but I believe that she will prefer if I make it for 'er?"
Fleur blushed. "S'il vous plaît," she nodded, giving Harry a nervous glance.
Harry shrank back in his seat, already having a good idea of what was about to happen. His only consolation was that Caterine was the only one in the room who didn't know what was going on. Gabrielle didn't count; he somehow didn't find her all that intimidating, and it was amusing to watch her expressions as her mother translated for her.
His cheeks started to heat yet again as Sebastian rose to his feet. If there was one thing he hated in life, it was being the center of attention, and he had a bad feeling that he was going to be exactly that in a few seconds. He had a strong urge to crawl under the table and hide, or maybe have one of the elves pop him out of the room...
Sebastian gave him a sympathetic look, and then he spoke. "Before I begin," he said seriously, "I do not want anyone asking questions of 'Arry on this first part. The reasons for this are not pleasant, and they are 'is to tell. Do not pressure 'im."
Harry winced, but nevertheless watched as Sebastian's gaze met each woman's in turn. Arienne obviously already knew; the sadness in her eyes, and the sympathy that shone on her face, said it all. Fleur and Caterine, however, were another matter entirely; they both looked puzzled. Harry was actually surprised that Sebastian hadn't told Fleur, at least.
"Due to another matter that I will cover shortly," he continued after impressing his will upon them, "I 'ad occasion to investigate 'Arry's living conditions, and found them to be less than ideal. Arienne and I 'ave therefore agreed to take custody. As of several days ago, 'Arry is a part of our family."
Fleur was shocked, and turned to Harry, already opening her mouth to ask the obvious question – but then she seemed to remember what her father had said, and abruptly closed it again. She frowned worriedly at him, but he shook his head at her; he imagined that he would probably tell her someday – she was to be his wife – but that day was most likely a long way off. Caterine, on the other hand, looked completely stunned, and didn't know what to say.
"Welcome to ze family, 'Arry," smiled Arienne, drawing his attention to her. "We know zis will be an adjustment for you, and zat you will not be used to 'ow we act wiz each ozzer, but we will do our best to make you comfortable."
Harry embarrassedly bobbed his head in her direction. "Thank you, ma'am," he said quietly.
"Arienne, 'Arry," she corrected gently. "You will get used to it."
Caterine piped up next, finally having recovered from her shock. "Yes, 'Arry, welcome," she smiled. Then she raised an eyebrow and shot Sebastian a brief but suspicious look. "I do 'ope zat ze arrangement meets wiz your approval?"
Harry nodded and smiled weakly at her. "Yes, ma'am," he said quietly. "It means a lot to me, it's just–" He paused to close his eyes for a moment to steady his emotions. "It's a lot to take in right now," he finished.
Harry could feel Fleur's concerned gaze still lingering on him, her eyes still full of questions, and Caterine was not far behind. He hoped he wouldn't have to get into it; his past was not something he enjoyed talking about. In all honesty, he would rather put it behind him and never look back!
That said, their concern, and Arienne and Sebastian's sympathy, brought a warmth to him that he could not recall ever feeling before. Having grown up with the Dursleys, he knew the difference between feigned interest and honest caring, and it was the latter that he was seeing now! It almost brought a tear to his eye, but he somehow managed to fight his emotions back, albeit with great difficulty.
"We are a fair family," said Sebastian after a moment. "You will learn the rules as you go, and I am sure that you will not be disappointed. Fleur can take you on a tour of the Chateau later so you will be able to find your way around."
Again, Harry simply nodded, and graced Fleur with a brief smile, which she returned. He had a feeling that her concern for him would remain until she either learned the truth or managed to forget about it – and that thought did not settle him at all.
"The other announcement," continued Sebastian, "is equally as momentous, if not more so since it involves two members of the family." Turning to Caterine with an amused glint in his eye, he asked her, "I believe you thought that Fleur would date an average boy first?"
Caterine snorted in amusement. "'E is only one of ze most famous wizards in ze world, mon fils," she smirked. "You cannot blame me for my surprise!"
Harry blushed again, and Sebastian chuckled in amusement. "Indeed he is, Maman," he smiled, "but do I 'ave a story to tell you."
"Oh?" she asked with genuine curiosity.
"Indeed," he nodded. "You see, the Second Task of that awful Tournament 'ad an interesting consequence."
Caterine's surprised gaze moved to Fleur, who shifted uneasily in her seat. Harry had an odd desire to reach out and take her hand, but refrained; he wasn't certain whether or not she would appreciate it. At least Sebastian continued before she could get too much more uncomfortable...
"They did not report all of what happened in the lake," he said, his tone suddenly turning grave. "You see, Maman, Fleur was attacked by a large pack of grindylows, and 'Arry 'ere came upon 'er by chance and saved 'er life. In light of 'er veela 'eritage, 'e as also agreed to take 'er 'and in marriage so that the debt may be satisfied."
Caterine stilled so completely that she looked like a statue, and the only indication of her continuing life was the way the color slowly drained from her cheeks. Her shocked gaze traveled slowly from Sebastian to Fleur, whose cheeks were now stained a brilliant red in opposition. She stared for a moment, before–
"Is zis true?"
"Oui, Grand-mère," said Fleur quietly, and then she turned her gaze to the table in a strange cross between guilt and embarrassment.
Of course, that freed Caterine to turn to Harry next, and he, too, blushed brilliantly under her still-shocked gaze. He could not read her emotions, and that made him even more nervous than he already was. Was she angry with him?
"And you 'ave agreed to zis of your own free will?" she whispered.
Harry nodded. "Yes, ma'am," he said quietly.
Caterine stared at him for a long moment, making him squirm, and then suddenly launched herself to her feet. He thought she was going to run from the room, but instead she rounded the table and came tearing at him, and he instinctively flinched away. But before he could get his feet under him to run, she grabbed him up and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug that put Molly Weasley to shame!
"Zank you," she whispered in his ear as he tried desperately to control his reaction to the sudden contact. "Zank you so much!"
Harry remained stiffly in her embrace, with no idea what to do. He was genuinely grateful for her reaction, but also quite frightened by it! And then, to make matters worse, she manhandled him over to Fleur so she could pull her in as well!
He had no idea how long the hug lasted, but it seemed to go on for an eternity. Unlike Harry, Fleur extended her arms around both him and her grandmother, but Harry could not bring himself to do so. His breath was coming in short gasps, and having been taken completely and utterly by surprise, he could not stop himself from panicking!
"Maman, you are scaring 'im," called Sebastian suddenly. "'E is not used to being 'eld."
Caterine suddenly let go of him as though burned, her eyes going wide, and before Harry could think to escape, he felt himself hit by a Calming Charm from Arienne's direction. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around himself, trying to stop the shaking fit that had overcome him so suddenly, and his face flamed in deepest shame over the fact that they'd noticed. It had been a long time since he'd had such a strong reaction!
"Sorry," he croaked quietly.
"'Arry?" called a deeply worried Fleur. "Are you alright?"
Harry nodded automatically. "Just– just give me a second," he rasped.
The room went silent, and Harry closed his eyes to concentrate on pulling himself back together and preventing the tears that wanted to fall. His emotions were going in every direction possible, ranging from fear over what just happened, to a great warmth caused by the same. He was very, very confused!
Finally, with a great shuddering breath, he opened his eyes again, and found that everyone was exactly where he left them, and they were all watching him with open concern. Arienne was so worried that she still had her wand out even, though the tip was listing toward the tabletop. He took one more breath, and smiled weakly at Caterine.
"I'm okay," he whispered. "And thank you."
The relief that crossed her features was palpable, but – thankfully – she didn't comment on the brief episode. "Thank you, 'Arry," she said softly instead. "I am so very 'appy zat you are doing zis for Fleur."
"She doesn't deserve to die, ma'am," he shrugged.
"Why don't we all sit down," said Sebastian calmly. "Dinner is getting cold."
They all took their places, and Harry was relieved when Sebastian deflected the conversation away from him, instead explaining in more detail how the situation with the marriage had come about. He was still horribly embarrassed that something like that had happened on his first evening with them, but there was little he could do about it. And as he dug in, he reflected that the food, at least, was quite good.
Now all he had to do was make it through dinner.