Chapter 5: Chapter 3Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextThe time following his selection as Champion for the Triwizard tournament was one of the worst periods of his life. It felt like the entire school was against him, with the Beauxbatons and Drumstrang contingents not being any better either. Most of Gryffindor viewed him as a dishonorable cheater, with Neville, Hermione, and some of the younger years being the only ones to remain civil with him.
Angelina, especially, had been bad. The older girl was the favorite to be picked for the spot as Hogwarts Champion, and seemed to take his selection personally. The rest of the House seemed to follow her lead, including the Quidditch team, with Katie, Fred, and George avoiding him.
As for the other Houses, Hufflepuff was by far the worst to take offense. The announcement of him being chosen alongside Cedric had ignited something fierce in the House of Badgers, and he had never seen Hufflepuffs so outraged and angry before. The fact that they were angry at him specifically, made his life all that much worse.
Ravenclaw wasn't exactly pleased over his selection either, viewing him as a rule-breaking git, with Slytherin having the expected nasty reaction. Malfoy had began passing out badges to humiliate him, with most of the Slytherins saying horrible things behind his back and calling him names.
That led him to where he was now, in Potions, where Professor Snape was doing his absolute best to take advantage of Harry's newfound misfortune. Already Harry had lost Gryffindor a hundred points, having to endure Snape's taunts and Malfoy's insults.
"A waste, Potter, that's what this potion is." Snape examined his potion as he did his best to stir it and not fall for Snape's taunts. "You know you're supposed to stir it clockwise, and not counterclockwise, right?"
Harry could hear the Slytherins laughing on the other side of the room, with Snape not even bothering to hide his favoritism. The Potions master moved on to his next victim, and Harry couldn't help but wince when the man's gaze locked onto Neville.
"Longbottom!" Snape called out with a sneer, making his way over to Neville. "Why am I not surprised? This looks less like the Draught of Peace and more like something you would find in a troll's latrine. Tell me, does incompetence run in your blood, or is it uniquely your own?"
Neville looked genuinely taken back by the severity of the insult, and Harry's fist tightened in fury. He readied to intervene, knowing he would only lose Gryffindor more points, only for Ron to speak up. "Of course you would know what a troll's latrine looks like, you filthy dungeon bat!"
"Ah, Mr. Weasley." Snape spun to face Ron. "A shame your potion doesn't look much better. Not surprising, as it's well known that mediocrity runs in the Weasley family. Tell me, does living in Potter's shadow do anything to make up for it?"
"Why, you-" Ron's face turned red in anger and embarrassment.
"Twenty points from Gryffindor." Snape drawled, and spoke again when Ron opened his mouth to speak. "Would you like to lose another thirty?"
Ron shut his mouth, and Harry ground his own teeth in fury. It seemed that Snape had done a good job of making an enemy of Gryffindor House today, as even Hermione looked furious. Just when Snape began looking around for his next victim, a knock at the classroom door got his attention. The Professor opened it to see the small form of Colin Creevey looking up at him.
"Excuse me, sir." Said Creevey. "I've been sent to collect Harry for the Wand weighing ceremony. It's one of the events for the Tournament."
Snape sneered down at the boy, looking as if he was about to tell him off. Suddenly the Potions Professor gained a smug look, and looked back at Harry vindictively. "Potter, your boyfriend requires your services. Leave!"
The Slytherins all burst into rambunctious laughter as Harry grounded his teeth in anger, meanwhile Creevey blustered out denials. With a swipe of his wand he vanished his potion and forcefully shoved his notes in his bag before leaving the Potions classroom.
Colin Creevey was in a talkative mood, unlike him, and Harry was content to let him ramble on as they navigated the different halls. The boy led him to one of the school's abandoned classrooms before leaving and wishing him good luck.
The room wasn't very crowded when he arrived, with the other champions, some officials, and what looked like reporters with cameras. He stood off to the side after walking in, feeling awkward and alone.
Victor Krum was talking to one of the reporters, and despite the Bulgarian's typical rough appearance, Harry could tell Krum was getting quite annoyed. Cedric stood alone by one of the room's windows, looking over the grounds, while Fleur also stood alone against one of the walls with an displeased expression on her features.
'Maybe she'll want to talk to me.' He thought, wondering if the French Champion would tolerate him. Fleur had been nice to him so far, if a bit arrogant, but he had never seen her as irritated as she appeared in that moment.
He made his way over to her anyways, getting her attention when he spoke. "You look unhappy."
"Oui." Her gaze went to him before narrowing at one of the reporters across the room. "That woman is very rude, and I don't want ze displeasure of speaking to her again. She deals with falsehoods and lies, and likes to twist your words until they're unrecognizable."
He was taken back by her vitriol, not expecting Fleur to express her frustration that zealously. Although he could sort of call her a friend, Harry knew that she had a high opinion of herself, and would have expected her to jump at the chance to be interviewed by a reporter. "I thought that you would've liked talking to the press."
"Ze press in France is nothing like this." She said with irritation. "That woman should be writing about my own skill in wandwork, along with my intelligence and power. I am ze best student to attend Beauxbatons in centuries, and have broken every record ze school holds. Yet she seems more interested in writing about my heritage, of all things."
The reporter across the room seemed to have noticed them by now, her eyes narrowing as she watched his own exchange with Fleur. She whispered something to her cameraman, who eagerly began snapping photos of himself and Fleur talking. It made him feel embarrassed, and Fleur cursed quietly in French as she tapped her foot in irritation. Harry was relieved that Dumbledore soon arrived with some others before the woman could do anything else.
"Hello everyone." Dumbledore greeted. "Champions, Judges, Ms. Skeeter, it is now time for us to begin the Wand weighing ceremony. Mr. Ollivander, if you could."
'Skeeter must be the name of the reporter.' Harry watched as the ugly blonde woman went to the side and began writing with a magical quill of some sort. The sight of her gave him a bad taste in his mouth, and not just because of Fleur's words earlier. The woman wore so much makeup that it was abnormal, her appearence fake and unrefined compared to Fleur's natural beauty. 'Why am I comparing her to Fleur?'
Harry pushed those strange thoughts away, readying himself as the Wand weighing ceremony was beginning. He let his gaze fall to Fleur's wand then, a delicate piece of wood compared to his rough and coarse wand. He eyed the way her long, delicate fingers and painted white nails grasped it against her thighs.
Mr. Ollivander stood, smoothing his robes, and stepped forward. His strange mannerisms were the same from when Harry had bought his wand years ago. "Mademoiselle Delacour, if you would, please?"
Fleur smoothly handed over her wand, and Ollivander grasped it gently. He turned it over in his hands, his fingers running along its length with practiced precision.
"Ah, yes." He murmured. "A wand of rosewood… nine and a half inches… inflexible. With a core of… Veela hair?"
"Oui." Fleur said with a small nod. "Ze hair comes from my grandmother."
"Beautiful craftsmanship." Ollivander remarked, raising the wand and giving it a small flick. A stream of silver sparks cascaded like a fountain. "Magnificent, and in perfect condition. Well done."
Fleur gave a small smile as she took her wand back.
"Mr. Krum, you're next." Ollivander said, motioning Viktor forward.
The Bulgarian champion stepped up and handed over his wand, a short and stubby piece of wood that seemed almost unremarkable in appearance. Ollivander examined it with the same meticulous care.
"Hornbeam, ten and a quarter inches… quite rigid." Ollivander said, his voice tinged with curiosity. "And a dragon heartstring core. Powerful. Excellent for combat magic, as I'm sure you've discovered."
Viktor grunted his acknowledgment, and Ollivander tested the wand with a wave. A small flock of birds erupted from the tip, fluttering briefly before vanishing into smoke. Satisfied, Ollivander returned the wand with a curt nod.
"Mr. Diggory." Ollivander called next.
Cedric stepped forward, his wand held with practiced ease. It was long and sleek, polished to a shine.
"Ash wood, twelve and a quarter inches… pleasantly springy." Ollivander said. "With a unicorn hair core. A fine choice, and well-suited to a wizard with a strong moral compass. You polish your wand often, I assume?"
"Yes, sir." Cedric said with a polite smile.
Ollivander tested the wand with a flick, causing a series of golden bubbles to float lazily upward. "Impeccable. Keep it well maintained."
Finally, Ollivander turned to Harry. "And now, Mr. Potter. Let's take a look at your wand."
Harry approached, feeling all eyes on him. He handed over his wand, its familiar weight leaving his hand reluctantly.
"Holly, eleven inches… supple." Ollivander murmured softly, his expression turning thoughtful. "And with a phoenix feather core—an exceptional core, I might add. The twin of this wand produced remarkable magic, if memory serves."
Harry stiffened slightly, knowing what Ollivander meant. The room was stiflingly quiet, as only Dumbledore seemed to understand what the man was talking about. Ollivander didn't linger on the subject, however, and tested the wand with a simple motion. A stream of red and gold sparks erupted like fireworks, drawing an appreciative murmur from Ludo Bagman and the photographer.
"Superb." Ollivander smiled, returning the wand. "In excellent condition."
"Alright now, time for pictures!" The reporter said suddenly-Rita Skeeter, who Dumbledore had mentioned earlier.
After that came a very awkward few minutes where the woman and her photographer took pictures of them all. To Harry, it felt like it would never end, with his mouth hurting from having to smile so much. It became even more awkward when they had to take individual photos, and after that the reporter insisted on Harry and Fleur getting a picture together.
Fleur's foot had been tapping in annoyance the whole time, and the look she gave the photographer when he tried to get a picture of her and himself was downright terrifying. Thankfully, Harry managed to slip out when she was focused on Krum, with Fleur fleeing the room alongside him.
"I still can't believe ze impudence of that woman." Fleur complained as they left. "For her to even suggest that I- you and I were… ugh! "
Harry didn't entirely understand what she was talking about, but he could understand her frustration somewhat. If he could help it, Rita Skeeter -or any other reporter for that matter- would never run into him again.
"Well, at least it's over with." He shrugged, feeling tired from the whole event. "I guess… until next time?"
"Wait." Fleur suddenly gasped his arm urgently. "I said that I would work with you on ze tournament, non?"
"I guess." Harry shrugged. "I have time after dinner, if you want to meet in the library then…"
"Oui." Fleur nodded, almost eagerly. "We shall meet then, Harry Potter."
/////
The library was quiet in the evenings, and gave him the needed space away from everyone else. Harry had been especially tired with the day's events, and it seemed that some quiet time with Fleur was exactly what he needed to unwind.
He sighed as he opened another book, doing his best to look for anything that might help him with the tournament. Adjacent to him, Fleur's posture was perfect even as her lips were pursed with disdain. It seemed that she wasn't having much luck either.
"Ze first task needs us to be prepared to face ze unknown." Fleur had said earlier. "What exactly that is? I am not sure."
Eventually, by a stroke of luck he found an account of the Triwizard Tournament from several centuries ago. It named Hogwarts along with schools named Mahoutokorou and Uagadou, which Harry had never heard of, but he decided to tell Fleur nonetheless. "This section suggests that the first task usually involves some sort of dangerous creature."
"Oui, let me see." Fleur moved up against his side, her arm brushing gently against him. Harry couldn't help but feel the intimacy of the situation.
If it bothered her, Fleur didn't show it, tracing over the page he had been reading. "This says one of ze creatures used back then was a Kappa, and another was ze Manticore."
"So the first task will have some sort of dangerous creature then." He summarized. "That doesn't exactly narrow it down."
"Non, it does not. But I certainly helps." Fleur frowned in thought. "Can you think of any place they would keep such a beast? Maybe in ze castle somewhere?"
He thought back to his first year, and how Dumbledore had kept Fluffy in the Forbidden Corridor. There was also the giant Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets during his second year, with the castle being so large that the serpent was able to move around undetected. It would be like finding a needle in a haystack if they began searching the entire castle without any idea of what they were actually looking for.
"The castle is too big for us to search the whole thing." He said, before an obvious thought occurred to him. "You know, if there's anyone who would know something about a dangerous creature arriving at Hogwarts, it would be our groundskeeper, Hagrid."
"Ah, ze large man who lives in ze Hut?" Fleur asked.
"How did you know?"
"He is courting my Headmistress." She said as if sharing a particular juicy piece of gossip.
"Hagrid is?" He blinked.
"Oui." Fleur nodded with an attractive smile. "They have been trying to keep it quiet, but ze two of them aren't exactly subtle."
Harry snorted, knowing what she meant. Both Hagrid and Madame Maxime were both large compared to those of normal height, making it fitting that they would get in a relationship. It also meant that it would be hard for them to keep their relationship secret, and he was sure the castle would be talking about them soon enough. That said, Harry still hoped that Hagrid was happy with her.
"How are your classmates taking your selection?" Fleur asked all of a sudden, looking at him curiously.
He grimaced. "Not very well. You?"
"You could say the same." She sighed. "Many of ze girls in my school wanted to be champion. And my selection only made them upset or bitter."
"Sorry about that." He sympathized. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm sure you will do better than any of them ever could."
Fleur beamed at his compliment, before her expression shifted to become slightly uncomfortable. "Quite ze pair we are, non? Both chosen as champion yet disliked by their peers."
"I guess all that's left to do is win the tournament." He joked.
"Oui." Fleur's eyes flashed with determination as she took his joke seriously. "I will win ze tournament and prove to them that I am more than just a Veela. And you, what if you win ze tournament, Harry?"
"I guess it will prove to them that I'm more than the Boy-Who-Lived." He shrugged. "Maybe then they'll see me as the winner of the Triwizard Tournament, and not someone who was saved by their Mother when he was just a baby."
"Oui." Fleur stared at him with an intensity he hadn't expected, her eyes wide and pupils boring into his own. "That sounds like a good goal to have."
He opened his mouth to speak, only for a familiar voice to intervene.
"Harry?" Hermione called out, and he turned to see her looking at himself and Fleur strangely. It was similar to when she had seen the both of them at the World Cup, and just as awkward. "And um… Fleur, right?"
It was like a switch had been flipped and Fleur's entire demeanor changed. No longer was she as casual as she had been around him, her face draining of emotion and posture straightening. She almost felt colder, no longer as inviting and talkative as she had been mere moments ago.
"Hi Hermione." He greeted. "Fleur and I were just studying for the tournament."
"Oh. Did you find anything useful? I would be glad to help."
"We figured that the first task will likely have some sort of dangerous creature." He shrugged, before turning to Fleur. "Hermione knows the library very well, and could help us out a lot."
"I do spend quite a bit of time in here studying." Hermione blushed in embarrassment at his comment.
"It is okay." Fleur said to comfort her, but it sounded insincere. "Some of us are not as naturally talented and need to study more to keep up. I am sure that Harry and I can manage without the likes of you."
Hermione's mouth opened but no words left it as she stared at Fleur in shock. Harry felt uneasy then, but Fleur spoke before he could do anything.
"I am going to return to my carriage." She stood up, giving him a quick glance before she left. "Au revoir, Harry."
Just like that, Fleur was gone, and he turned to see Hermione watch her leave with a bitter look on her face.
"I don't like her, Harry." Hermione said, glaring at Fleur's back.
"She's not so bad once you get to know her." He replied, knowing his words would do nothing to settle Hermione.
"Still." Hermoine said. "Just be careful around her."
Chapter 6: Chapter 4Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextIt just so happened that her Headmistress was going on a date with the groundskeeper that evening, and Fleur contemplated telling Harry before deciding against it. She was still annoyed about that ugly brunette girl from earlier, and because of it Fleur bitterly decided against inviting him to join her.
"I am going on a date with Hagrid tonight." Madame Maxime had said after Fleur arrived back at the carriage, using a voice that suggested something more was going on. "I just thought you should know."
She followed Madame Maxime and Hagrid under a disillusionment charm as the two made their way into the forest, all the while doing her best to keep up and not lose sight of them while remaining hidden. It was easier said than done, as Fleur practically had to jog to keep up with the brutal pace the two set. Each of their footfalls was equivalent to more than twice her own, and she was grateful for the great shape her body was in that allowed her to keep pace.
At a certain point the two half-giants seemed to come to a stop, and Fleur began to carefully get closer to the two. Eventually she moved behind a collapsed tree to get a better look at what they were up to, and that was when she saw it.
Dragons.
She gaped in astonishment, seeing four of the beasts being held with different cages before her. She watched as dragon handlers ran around and did their best to control the creatures, all the while doing their best to not get burnt. Each dragon was of a different breed, making four different breeds of dragon, meaning that there was one for each champion.
'How could a school tournament use dragons?' Fleur wondered, staring in shock at the dangerous creatures. 'Have they gone mad?!'
She was so captivated by the scene that she didn't notice another presence coming up behind her, and it was the person's body making contact with her derrière that snapped Fleur out of her thoughts.
She gasped and spun around with her wand out, loosing her invisibility as she did so, and looking every which way for her assailant. That was when Harry of all people took off an invisibility cloak, holding up his hands in surrender as he did so. The French champion stopped, staring at him with wide eyes.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." Harry said, looking embarrassed.
'He must have not have seen me since I was invisible.' She stared at him for a long moment, guessing he didn't intentionally mean to collide with her. "It's okay, I just didn't expect anyone else out here."
"Neither did I." Harry replied, moving up and standing behind a tall bush that allowed him to see the dragons. "I guess your Headmistress told you to come here?"
"Oui." Fleur replied hesitantly, feeling awkward she didn't inform Harry about her plan to follow her Headmistress on her date. "Is it the same with you?"
"Sort of." Harry grimaced. "Hagrid told Ron about the dragons, thinking he would tell me, but he didn't. Hagrid also asked Ron to tell me to meet up with him, but when I didn't show, he was able to get a message to me in time."
For a moment she was indignant over what Harry revealed, but not because he got a lead and didn't inform her, but rather that his friends were treating him so terribly. She had seen this "Ron" boy before, and could tell he was nothing more than some weak-willed idiot who had no right being around Harry.
She had been betrayed a couple times over the years, as many of her old friends stabbed her in the back and abandoned her when her Veela heritage started to emerge. As such, Fleur certainly knew what Harry was going through, and the last thing she wanted was to lose his friendship when he was struggling so much.
She opened her mouth, only to stop and ready herself for what she was about to say. "I apologize."
Harry looked at her strangely. "For what?"
"For how I acted earlier." She said. "I should not have treated your friend like that in ze library earlier, and after that I should have told you the suspicions I had about Madame Maxime and her date with Hagrid."
"Oh… It's okay." Harry said, and at the strange look she sent him he continued speaking. "I'm sure you would have told me about the dragons anyways. And- I mean, I ran into you just a moment ago, so if anything I'm the one who should be apologizing."
'You really are different, Harry Potter.' She thought with some satisfaction, moving closer to him in order to get a better look at the dragons. Unintentionally, or not, Fleur's arm brushed against his own, and she enjoyed feeling his touch in that short moment. She expected him to enjoy it too, as any boy would like a Veela touching them, but instead he jumped in fright, awkwardly moving away from her and looking away as if she wasn't there.
She couldn't help but stare in shock for a moment, once again surprised by how adverse he was to her allure. All her life she had met boys that seemed to clamber over each other just to get a smidge of attention from her. And yet, Harry Potter seemed to want nothing to do with her whatsoever. 'He just doesn't stop surprising me.'
But there was a certain risk that came with him being so resistant to her allure, being the affection he could receive from other girls. Her mind went to that girl in the library, the one who had made her so irritated, and the flimsy redhead from before that. Fleur wanted to believe that they were beneath her, that Harry would never choose them over her. 'After all, no girl can compare to Fleur Delacour.'
And yet he was resistant to her allure, meaning the usual methods of seduction she had available were suddenly useless, and Fleur nearly felt helpless because of it. She wondered if this was how other girls felt because of her allure, knowing that at any moment she could suddenly lash out and steal their man. If so, it certainly made sense why so many girls hated her.
All of this came to one conclusion in her mind, being that she needed to work harder to get closer to Harry. She had competition for his affection after all, and Fleur didn't want to be taken unaware if another girl stepped in and stole him. And yet, at the same time she remembered the warning her mother gave her, and knew that she couldn't be too hasty in her advances. 'I can't overdo it and scare him away, but I run the risk of losing him if I don't do something soon.'
All of those thoughts along with the scary possible outcomes played out in her mind as she hid there next to Harry. Eventually, the two of them decided to head back to the castle before Hagrid, Madame Maxime, or someone else found them, and it was on the way back they talked some more.
"I'm going to tell Cedric." He told her as they walked through the forest, and at her questioning look he elaborated. "About the dragons."
"Why?" Fleur asked with a frown.
"It… seems like the right thing to do."
"I doubt he would have told you." She sniffed in distaste. "Besides, he and his friend have been wearing those badges, non?"
Potter Stinks. Fleur's eye twitched in irritation as she remembered the disgusting badges that the Hogwarts students were passing around. They were crude and immature, and it made her feel that much worse for the situation Harry was in.
She could sense the turmoil he was in as they walked, not just because of the dragons, but now at the dilemma of telling Cedric about them. Harry opened his mouth to speak again, but Fleur suddenly moved and pulled him to the side, and behind a nearby tree.
Something had got her attention, and she pointed it out quietly to Harry from their hiding spot, being Professor Karkaroff marching through the forest. The Drumstrang Headmaster was alone, and headed straight for where the dragons were.
"I guess he knows about the dragons." Harry whispered, reflecting her own thoughts. "He'll probably tell Krum too."
"Oui." Fleur agreed. "You might as well tell Cedric about ze dragons then."
After Karkaroff was far enough away they continued their trek back to the castle, with Fleur's thoughts not only buzzing with the night's different revelations, but also of how she could help Harry. She could almost feel his worry, the image of dragons clearly still in his mind. Fleur was worried too, but she wanted to help him first, and to get his mind off the fiery lizards.
They were approaching the castle then, with her carriage getting near, and an ambitious thought occurred to her. Suddenly her hand shot out and she grasped his arm and began guiding him towards her carriage.
"Fleur-what are you doing?" Harry asked in surprise.
"Let's go to my carriage first, before you go back to ze castle." She said. "We can talk in my room and prepare for ze first task."
"I mean- are you sure about this?" He asked hesitantly.
"Oui." She opened the door to the carriage and practically dragged him inside, hastily guiding him in the direction of her room. It was late in the evening, and their carriage only housed so many students, meaning that there was no one to notice them inside.
The interior of the Beauxbatons carriage was enchanted to be just like their school, built out of beautiful marble and stone, with artwork and mirrors elegantly placed throughout. Each student had their own room, and Fleur guided Harry to hers. Inside it sat a queen sized bed, with a desk for studying and then a separate door that led to her own bathroom and closet. There was also a large one-way window that overlooked part of the lake.
"I figured it was better for us to be here together than to be alone to dwell on our own misfortune." She said as they settled in, with Harry sitting on her bed as they talked. Eventually she went into her closet to change clothes, having convinced Harry to stay in her room for the evening.
Her wardrobe contained all kinds of clothing, much of which her mother had helped her pick out over the summer. Many of which had been chosen for the cold, British weather, meaning most of her clothes were more conservative that she was used to. That said, Fleur had still brought some sexy outfits with her, ones she looked forward to showing off to Harry in the future.
The question was what to wear to bed, or to be more specific, what would get Harry's attention? There was a part of her mind that told her to simply wear no clothes at all, knowing that would certainly get his attention, but Fleur decided not to do that. Another part whispered for her to put on the custom made lingerie she had ordered in Paris, but she knew that was also too risky. In the end she settled on a more reserved outfit, one that would certainly get any teenage boy's attention yet not be overly risqué.
/////
"Why don't you spend the night here and sleep in my bed?" Fleur easily asked as she made her way into the bathroom to change. "There's more than enough room to share, non?"
Harry had been unable to come up with a coherent answer in time, and that left him sitting there like an idiot, on Fleur's bed.
There was a part of him that wondered how exactly he got into this situation. How he got entered into a dangerous tournament and then ended up in the private room of a beautiful Veela on an enchanted carriage. The strange relationship between him and Fleur was almost too blatant to ignore at this point, something even his classmates had picked up on. And yet Harry was left utterly stumped about what he should do.
The subject of his thoughts left the bathroom then, and his jaw dropped. She wore a simple dark blue nightgown made of fine silk, something that would have looked normal, maybe even plain, on any other woman. Harry was sure aunt Petunia had worn something similar before, and maybe even Hermione. Yet on Fleur it looked ridiculously lewd and sexy, showing off her womanly curves in an erotic fashion which caused him to stare.
Even without a bra to hold them up, he could see just how perky her large breasts were, pushing out the front of her nightgown easily and giving him a generous view of her cleavage. The silk nightwear barely reached below her bum, letting Harry observe the tan legs that only seemed to go on for miles, accented with thick thighs and ending with perfectly manicured toes.
For a brief moment his mind went back to Privet Drive, and how he used to watch television through the vent on his cupboard door. The situation he was in eerily reminded him of the adult films Vernon used to watch, the kind that Aunt Petunia never let Dudley see. Even when watching normal television Harry had witnessed scenes similar to the one he was in, and a specific commercial of a hot woman offering a boy chocolate cake in his bedroom popped up.
It left him once again stumped over what he should do, and by the time he managed to get his reaction under control, Fleur had already reached the bed and was in the process of pulling back the sheets to slide in. Harry quickly looked away, desperately trying to conceal his blush, and he could swear that Fleur had a satisfied smirk on her lips.
He knew he could flee, leaving Fleur behind and making the strange relationship between them even more awkward. It seemed that Fleur genuinely wanted him to stay, and the more he laid there in her bed, the more comfortable he became. In the end, he decided that it was too much of a hassle to bother escaping her bed, especially when it was so soft. That, and his cock was hard because of the Veela sleeping next to him.
Chapter 7: Chapter 5Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextHe woke up to the sight of blonde hair filling his vision. Fleur's head rested comfortably against his chest, one arm draped over his body, while her hair seemed to go every which way. He was still in the French Champion's bedroom, onboard the Beauxbatons magical carriage, and laying with her in a very compromising position.
'I wonder what the others would say if they saw me like this? ' Harry couldn't help but strangely think. He imagined Ron and his roommates going ballistic if they found out, and he even thought of what Aunt Petunia or even Dudley's reaction would be. His eyes darted to the door then. 'Hopefully no one walks in and sees us.'
Fleur's head moved then, looking up at him with pouty lips while her long hair remained a beautiful mess. The sight momentarily took his breath away, and Harry really wanted to kiss her then and there. "Bonjour, mon amour."
"M-Morning." He stuttered out, as Fleur elegantly rose from the bed and made her way to get dressed. He watched her beautiful bum sway from side to side as she walked away, and her messy long blonde hair that had just covered him moments earlier.
Harry sat there breathlessly for a moment, before he too began the process of getting dressed. He had slept in Fleur's bed with only some of his clothes still on, and began putting his cloak, shoes, and tie back in place.
Fleur eventually made her way out of the bathroom, barefoot with her long legs exposed as she sat down on the bed. It was an almost mesmerizing sight to watch her put on stockings, covering up her beautiful tan legs before she slipped on a pair of heels. After that she pulled her hair back and used her wand to magically put it in a French braid.
He followed Fleur out of her room as they left the carriage together then, not even remembering to use his invisibility cloak to sneak out. It was only once they made their way into the castle courtyard and began the trek to the Great Hall that he finally found his voice.
"Thanks for letting me stay with you." He said.
Fleur nodded, giving him a slight grin. "Oui, it was a pleasure to have you keep me company in bed."
Harry's blushed, desperately trying not to think of what her words implied. "W-What do you plan to do about the dragons?"
She frowned thoughtfully. "I am skilled with enchanting and charms, and will look into what I can come up with on that front. And you?"
"I'm sure I can come up with something." Harry pondered the past dangers he had faced, especially with the basilisk in his second year. He had killed the giant snake with a sword, after all, and he wondered if he could do that again. "Are we allowed to use anything other than our wands?"
"Non." Fleur shook her head. "We must go in with our wands only. But there is a loophole in ze rules about summoning objects from outside to help."
'So I could always summon the Sword of Gryffindor during the task, but facing a dragon with a sword doesn't sound like a great idea.' Harry discarded that plan. 'Maybe I could summon my broom to use?'
"I doubt that we will have to kill ze dragons to succeed." Fleur said then, looking lost in her own thoughts. "They will probably be part of ze task itself, but more like an obstacle than anything else."
"That would make more sense." Harry took a sigh of relief. He remembered his first year when he had to get past Fluffy, and how the three-headed dog was simply in the way and not his enemy. It would almost make sense that the dragons would simply be an obstacle for the participants to get past, forcing them to be creative in how they did so. It would certainly be a way for the tournament organizers to force the champions to showcase their magical ingenuity and creativeness.
It happened that him and Fleur both walked into the Great Hall then, shoulder to shoulder, right as most of the student body was busy with breakfast. The pair of them attracted quite a lot of attention for some reason, with whispered and hushed conversations breaking out all across the hall. Quite a few students pointed and gestured in their direction, and both he and Fleur were getting nasty looks sent their way.
'I wonder what their deal is.' Harry grimaced, deciding it was time for him and Fleur to split up."I guess I'll see you around."
Fleur stiffly nodded at his words, an icy look on her face as she seemed to not give anyone in the room the slightest bit of attention. Fleur marched over to her own seat then, as if all the attention didn't bother her in the slightest, and Harry belatedly made his way to the edge of the Gryffindor table.
"Harry!" Hermione hissed at him as he drew near. "Where have you been? And what were you doing with her of all people?"
"Good morning to you too, Hermione." He replied blandly, taking a look seat across from her.
He went to grab some food to fill his plate, only for Hermione to suddenly shove the morning paper in front of him. His photograph was on the front page, but he wasn't alone in it, as Fleur was standing to his side and chatting amicably with him in the moving photo.
He recognized photo as being taken from the wand weighing ceremony, and to the outside observer, it would appear that he and Fleur were something more than just friends as they chatted amicably together. 'The paper's headline certainly doesn't help.'
TRIWIZARD TEMPTRESS: ENSNARED BY THE VEELA
By Rita Skeeter
It seems that the Boy Who Lived has become the Boy Who Fell—head over heels, that is, for a certain enchanting competitor in the Triwizard Tournament. Sources at Hogwarts report that Fleur Delacour, the breathtakingly beautiful champion from Beauxbatons, has been spending a suspicious amount of time in the company of none other than Harry Potter.
But is this newfound closeness a blossoming friendship, or something far more nefarious?
Fleur Delacour, as many now know, is part Veela, a heritage famous for its unnatural ability to captivate, mesmerize, and control the hearts and minds of unsuspecting men. Could she be using her mystical allure to bend poor Harry Potter to her will? Could her charms be working on the Goblet of Fire itself-
He swallowed thickly, feeling his face heat up in embarrassment. The writer of the article had plainly spelled out that something was going on between him and Fleur, even when they weren't even in a relationship. And not only that, but they even went as far as to imply that Fleur had used her allure to cheat her way into the tournament, with him as an accomplice.
It now made sense why he and Fleur attracted so much attention when they entered the Great Hall, coincidentally right after everyone got the chance to read the scandalous article. He could feel glares from boys all over the hall, and Harry could just tell that his male roommates were stirring in rage over the article. Ron had accused him of being in the tournament because of Fleur, and now the papers were saying just that.
"Where were you last night?" Hermione hissed quietly. "I waited in the common room to talk to you, but you never showed up. And then this morning you walked in with her of all people."
"Just drop it, Hermione." He said tiredly.
"Y-You didn't spend the night with her, did you?" She asked hesitantly.
Harry looked around to make sure no one was listening in before he slowly nodded. Hermione's hands went to her face as she stifled a gasp, her eyes wide.
"You two aren't seeing each other, are you?" Hermione asked, her voice strange. "I-I mean it's none of my buisiness—just know that she's not exactly nice. Ginny said she was quite mean actually, and she wasn't kind to me in the library the other day."
"I know." Harry grimaced, choosing not to answer Hermione's earlier question about their relationship status. He didn't even know the status of his and Fleur's… relationship, or even if they were together to begin with. "She apologized to me for that, and we were able to make some progress on the first task last night."
"Anything you can share?"
Harry leaned in, glancing around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "The first task has dragons in it."
"W-What?" Hermione's voice came out squeaky and weak, her face going pale as her hand shook.
"I saw them last night." He continued. "Hagrid showed them to me out in the forest. There's four of them, one for each champion."
"Dragons are extremely dangerous, Harry." Hermione looked downright terrified. "It takes teams of wizards just to subdue one. I read that their scales are magically resistant a-and that-"
"We can talk later, Hermione." Harry cut her off as she started to ramble, as right then he saw Diggory leaving the Great Hall. He needed to tell to Cedric about the dragons, and there was no point in putting it off.
He got up from the Gryffindor table and quickly left the Great Hall then, following the older Hufflepuff and his friends down several hallways and towards the transfiguration courtyard. He couldn't help but notice how loud and supportive Cedric's friends were, all the while each one wore their own 'Potter Stinks' badge. Eventually, Cedric split off from the rest of them then, climbing a set of stairs that would lead him in the direction of the transfiguration classroom.
"Cedric!" Harry called out towards the older boy once it was just the two of them alone in the hall.
Diggory spun around, facing him with a surprised look. "Potter?"
"I've been meaning to talk to you." Harry said as he approached, his voice getting quieter. "The first task—it's dragons."
"D-Dragons?" Cedric stumbled over the words, his eyes widening in terror. "A-Are you sure?"
Harry nodded, and Cedric shut his eyes closed as a stressed expression overcame him. He eventually calmed down after a moment, reopening his eyes and studying Harry. "Why tell me?"
"What?"
"We're competitors, why tell me?" Cedric repeated harshly.
Harry felt his stomach sink then, his opinion of Cedric diminishing quite substantially. He would never lie about something like this, but Cedric almost seemed to think he was doing exactly that.
It almost made sense, Harry bitterly thought. So many Hufflepuffs—many of which being Cedric's friends—were wearing those stupid badges, and it wasn't like Diggory was telling them not to.
"I don't care about the tournament, but I know it's important to you." Harry stated, and Cedric's eyes widened. "Besides, I'm pretty sure that Krum and Fle-Delacour already know."
He caught himself in time before he said Fleur's name, trying not to show how familiar he was with her. Cedric seemed to believe his own explanation, looking almost embarrassed as he scratched the back of his neck.
"I'm sorry, Harry." Cedric said, looking abashed. "I shouldn't have implied you would lie to me about something about this. I guess that I let everything people were saying about you get to my head."
"It's fine." Harry waved his apology off, even though it did bother him.
"If I may ask, are the rumors true about you and Delacour?" Cedric suddenly asked.
"What? N-No." He was caught off guard by the question, his face going red as he stumbled over his words.
"I see." Cedric laughed, giving his shoulder a pat. "Congratulations, she's quite the catch, Potter. For a brief moment I thought the two of you were working against me. I guess I'll see you around."
The older Hufflepuff left then, leaving Harry alone and confused in the hall, before another voice called out and got his attention. He spun around to see the last group of people he wanted to talk to.
"Being friendly with the other champions, Potter?" Malfoy sneered at him, walking down the hall towards him with Crabbe and Goyle at his back. The blond wasn't alone, as Ron, Seamus, and Dean were also with him. 'Just my luck that my roommates would team up with Malfoy.'
"He's too good to associate with the likes of us, all high and mighty on his eternal glory. Someone ought to brim him down a peg. Or ten." Seamus spat.
"So you all sided with Malfoy now?" Harry glared at his roommates. "You wear his stupid badges and now side with him against me?"
"Don't say it like it's our fault!" Ron said with his face red. "You forced us to do this, cheating the Goblet and abandoning all your friends! And then you go ahead and prance around with Fleur Delacour."
He said Fleur's name with a wistful, dreamy expression on his face, as if the very thought of her was heaven itself. It only served to make Harry more angry, and he palmed his wand as he angled his body against the group of them. "Just remember, you asked for this."
Ron moved first, his face red in anger as he raised his wand. "Slugulus Eructo!"
Harry easily sidestepped the spell, watching as Crabbe and Goyle didn't even bother bringing out their wands as they simply charged him with thier fists raised. Seamus and Dean sent their own hexes his way, and Harry spun his wand in a circle. "Protego."
It was a sixth-year spell, one he had learned in preparation for the tournament. Harry had always been better at learning new spells and actually performing magic than doing theoretical work, and since his involvement in the tournament he had begun secretly practicing as much as possible.
A clear shield formed in front of him, deflecting the spells away from him. The group of boys gaped at the advanced use of magic, and Harry used that opportunity to stun Crabbe and Goyle as they charged him.
"Depulso." Harry chanted as he cast his next spell, launching both Dean and Seamus away as the two boys violently landed further down the hall.
It left just Ron and Malfoy, and the two were both backing away from him with angry yet horrified expressions on their faces. That was until Malfoy seemed to get some courage and pointed his wand at him. "Serpensortia!"
A boa constrictor was conjured at the end of his wand, and began moving in Harry's direction. It reminded him a bit too much of second year, and Harry developed a cruel idea right then.
"I am not your enemy. Subdue the one who conjured you." Harry hissed in parseltongue, causing both Ron and Malfoy to drastically pale.
The large snake followed his command, and spun around before leaping straight at Malfoy. The blond fell to the floor with the boa constrictor wrapped tightly around him, his wand falling out of his grasp.
That only left Ron standing there, and the redhead stared at Malfoy's restrained form with horror before looking back at him. Harry only stared back, feeling a part of him wither and die inside as Ron turned and ran down the hall and away from him.
/////
The day of the first task dawned on a misty Scottish morning that went along with a chilly breeze. Harry trekked across the castle grounds towards the newly constructed stadium built purposefully for holding the first task of the tournament.
His custom Champion robes fluttered around him, colored red, black, and gold to symbolize Gryffindor House. McGonagall had handed them to him earlier, with an aged look on her face and an order to "Make Hogwarts proud.". He could feel the weight of the wand in his hand, the preparations and newly-learned spells running through his mind as he planned to do exactly that.
Harry never wanted to participate in this tournament. Nor did he want the fame, gold, and glory that came with victory. And he certainly didn't want his closest friends to turn into bitter enemies because of it. But it was never about what he wanted in life, and only about moving forward without a care for his own needs.
In the distance, he noticed a flash of blonde hair as Fleur entered the champion's tent which was connected to the arena. A realization arose in his mind then, being that he could still find his own happiness while participating in this tournament. Harry still wasn't sure what his relationship with Fleur Delacour was, but he knew for certain that he wanted to spend as much time together with her.
Chapter 8: Chapter 6Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextHe entered the tent to find all of the other Champions already there and waiting for the task to begin, each looking much worse off than before. Cedric gave him a slight smile when he entered, while Krum didn't bother to acknowledge him. Fleur seemed to perk up at his presence, but the Beauxbatons Champion still looked more pallid than he had seen her before.
"You are nervous." Fleur observed him as he got closer, voicing his exact thoughts.
"And you're not?" He asked in return.
She sniffed, tilting her chin up. "Why would I be? I am Fleur Delacour."
Harry snorted. "Right. How could I forget?"
"Exactly." She nodded. "You should be grateful I am giving you my time, non? Most would kill to be in your position."
"Lucky me." Harry muttered, though he couldn't stop the corner of his mouth from twitching up. It showed how far along his friendship with Fleur was that he could get along with her so easily. Sadly, before Fleur could say anything else, the tent flap flew open. A sharp scratch of a quill filled the air as the last person he wanted to see entered.
"Well, well, well." Rita Skeeter drawled, stepping inside like she owned the place. Her quill was already scrawling across parchment, eager to twist whatever words were spoken next. Her gaze landed on Harry first, her lips curling into something resembling a smile. "Our brave, tragic young champion. What a story you've given us this year, Harry dear. Thrust into danger, abandoned by your peers—oh, I do hope you're keeping your spirits up!"
In just a few words she managed to get under his skin and he silently seethed. The woman then turned her gaze over to Fleur. "But I suppose your fellow champion has that covered. Perhaps a little magic here and there, a flutter of the eyelashes, a bit of—what shall we call it?—allure to distract young Harry before the tournament?"
"Zat is enough." Fleur hissed at the woman. "If you have come here to make up lies, you are wasting your time."
"Lies?" Rita gasped theatrically, pressing a hand to her chest. "My dear, I simply report what I see. And what I see is a little romance blooming right before the first task. A distraction, perhaps? Or maybe a calculated move? Tell me, Ms. Delacour, do you think taking advantage of such a young champion will help you secure victory today?"
The tent flaps suddenly opened once again, and Dumbledore, Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Crouch, and Bagman all entered. The Hogwarts Headmaster's gaze narrowed in on the woman.
"Miss Skeeter." Dumbledore said, his tone calm but firm. "I will not have you harassing the Champions before the task begins. Kindly leave at once."
Rita didn't even have time to argue before Madame Maxime loomed over her. "Out." The giantess said flatly.
With a huff and a flick of her green quill, Rita turned on her heel. "Fine, I suppose I'll just have to continue my story elsewhere. But don't worry, dears, I always get the truth in the end."
Bagman then moved to the center of the group, and he carried a fabric bag of some sort. "Gather around, Champions! All you need to do now is stick your hand into the bag, and the rest will be explained from there."
The bright-colored man didn't seem to know how to read the room's mood, as each of them cautiously made their over to him. He held the bag in Fleur's direction. "Ladies first!"
She swallowed in worry and reached in, pulling out a miniature green dragon. Diggory and Krum went after her, each pulling out miniature dragons of their own. And finally it was Harry's turn, and he reached in to pull out a miniature version of the intimidating spiked dragon he had seen in the forest. 'The Hungarian Horntail.'
"Each of you has selected the dragons you will be facing in the task." Said Mr. Crouch. "The task itself will be for you to retrieve a golden egg from your respective dragons' nest, and from there leave the arena. Mr. Diggory, you will go first, followed by Mr. Krum, then Ms. Delacour, and finally Mr. Potter. At the sound of the cannon, it will be your turn to go."
As if on command, the cannon boomed, and the man turned to Cedric. "It is now your turn, Mr. Diggory."
The older Hufflepuff nodded shakily, and headed for the exit of the tent that led to the arena. The rest of the Champions all sat down as the judges left, with him and Fleur sitting together while Krum sat by himself.
They didn't speak for some time, each of them caught up in their own thoughts and worries, until Fleur finally broke the silence.
"This wait is most irritating." She looked at him expectantly, as if she was a little girl who wanted him to entertain her. "Tell me about your home, Harry."
He sighed, not wanting to think about the Dursleys in a time like this. "There isn't much to tell, honestly. I live with my aunt and her family, being her husband and my cousin Dudley. They're muggles, and we live in a pretty normal neighborhood."
Of all things to say, that seemed to perk her interest for some reason. "You'll probably be surprised to know that I've barely spent any time around muggles."
"Really?"
"Oui." She nodded. "We, Veela, are a magical species. Many Veela never leave their covens, and if they do, then they usually only travel to magical areas."
"Huh." Harry wondered what his family's reaction would be if Fleur visited him at Privet Drive. He could only imagine Dudley acting worse than Ron when it came to being affected by Fleur's allure. 'I wonder if muggles are affected by her allure at all?'
"I'm sure you can introduce me to them at some point. I'll need to make a good impression if we're going to be spending so much time together, after all." Fleur said casually, and he nearly choked.
The cannon blast sounded then, catching both of them off guard, and Harry watched as Krum stood stiffly and exited the tent. It left just the two of them alone, the mood once again awkward and stifling, and Harry longed to keep the conversation with Fleur going.
She seemed to be of similar mind, and looked at him then. "How about a wager?"
"A… wager?" He asked hesitantly, not sure where this was going.
Fleur nodded. "Oui, ze one who gets more points in this task than ze other wins."
"Sounds fair." Harry agreed, even though he didn't particularly care about doing well in the tournament. "What are the stakes?"
Fleur placed a finger on her lip, contemplating. "If I win, you have to accompany me on a date to ze village."
"A date?" Harry asked in shock, genuinely puzzled by the answer. Before he could form a coherent response, his mouth decided to move on its own. "Why make us going on a date part of the wager? Are you worried I would ask someone else out?"
She looked momentarily shocked by his words, before she quickly recovered. Fleur's gaze seemed to narrow in on him like a predator, almost as if he was her prey.
"You cannot trick me with your words any longer, Harry, I know that you desire me. And if you think that any other girl can compare to Fleur Delacour, then you are ze fool." She sniffed arrogantly. "You think any woman will be able to please you like me? Non. No leetle' girl will be able to match me. Whether that be on your arm, or in ze bed."
She finished with a seductive whisper, a smug smirk on her lips. Her words were meant to tease, to infuriate, but Harry could do nothing to contest them. He knew that she was speaking the truth, and that no girl he had even met could compare to her.
And Fleur wanted to cement that fact, as she continued on. "So go ahead, try and find someone who will match me. Even go and ask another girl out, but by the end of it all you will come crawling back to Fleur Delacour."
And there it was. That smug, condescending, confidence that she seemed to exude. And yet he couldn't help but find it so damn attractive.
He gulped. "And if I win?"
"On ze slim chance that you do win," Fleur leaned in close to his side, and he could feel her warm breath against his ear. "I'll do anything you want."
His cock twitched in his trousers, and before he could say anything more the cannon boomed, signaling Fleur to go. She gave him a suggestive wink, swaying her hips seductively as she exited the tent.
Her exit had been timed perfectly, or terribly if one was to look at it a certain way. It left Harry distracted, no longer worried about the upcoming task, which was great. But on the other hand, his teenage mind was running through all kinds of explicit scenarios in case he did score better than Fleur in the upcoming task.
When the cannon eventually boomed and it was his turn, Harry exited the tent and made his way down a flight of stairs and into a tunnel that led to the arena. He managed to get his wild thoughts under control as he walked, feeling his nerves fraying and hairs beginning to stand up in worry.
He just knew the second he left the tunnel and entered the arena that something would go wrong. So as he neared the end of the tunnel, and the entrance to the arena, he preemptively equipped his wand.
"Expecto Patronum."
A bright, glowing stag left his wand, and it led the way out of the tunnel and into the arena. It took only a few steps out into the open before a tail full of wicked spikes came violently crashing down on it.
He squinted as rocks and dust were kicked up by the impact, and watched as his patronus dashed away and ran towards the other side of the arena. The Hungarian Horntail roared at the deer, exiting its hiding spot above the champion's entrance as it charged after the glowing stag.
That gave Harry the needed opportunity to enter the arena safely, and he observed the massive dragon for only a moment before he narrowed in on his objective. The dragon's nest resided on the other side of the rocky arena, a clump of eggs surrounding one large golden egg that was his goal.
"Accio Hungarian Horntail egg." He twirled his wand, trying to summon the egg, and when that didn't work he tried again. "Accio Golden egg."
Nothing happened, and he felt his eyes narrow in annoyance. It was mildly infuriating the judges had cast anti-summoning charms on the egg, but Harry just knew he wouldn't get that lucky. A quick glance revealed the dragon was still distracted by his patronus, and Harry took advantage of the situation and sprinted across the arena, headed directly for the dragon's nest.
He was out in the open now, completely exposed for both the crowd to see as well as the Hungarian Horntail to turn around and attack. Luckily, the dragon was still distracted, and Harry continued his mad dash across the arena towards its nest. The crowd was yelling his name and cheering, and he didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.
He sprinted up a slope of jagged rocks and climbed over a large boulder to reach the dragon's nest, before he finally reached out and took hold of the golden egg. The crowd was growing hysterical at this point, and Harry let his lips curl up in a smile. But that was when the Hungarian Horntail finally noticed him, and the beast turned around before letting out a fierce roar in his direction.
He jumped off his place high up by the dragon's nest, and slid down to the arena's floor. The task's exit was halfway to the other side of the arena, meaning he wouldn't have enough time to slip out before the dragon got hold of him.
'Looks like I'll have to fight my way out of here.' Harry readied himself, coming out from behind a large rock to see the dragon headed his way.
The dragon opened its mouth wide then, and a wall of dragonfire poured across the arena towards him. He raised his wand in the direction of the fire, spinning it in a circle. "Protego!"
He had used the same spell just recently against Ron and Malfoy's ambush, and now he was using it against a dragon. It was an advanced spell taught to older years in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Harry knew it would be useful to learn for the tournament. That said, he didn't expect to use it against dragonfire of all things.
The fire smashed against his conjured shield, and he felt himself get pushed back momentarily. The glowing shield cracked and tore off at the edges, and Harry could feel his robes get slightly singed. He poured more magic into the spell, pushing the glowing shield outwards and against the dragon's flame as he felt himself begin to sweat with exertion.
When the flames ended, he nearly doubled over due to both relief at not being fried, as well as the sudden feeling of exhaustion. Sadly, the same could not be said for the Hungarian Horntail, as the dragon looked even more incensed than before.
'I need to distract it.' He thought, feeling overwhelmed by the creature's power. Like Hermione had said, it would take teams of wizards to subdue such a creature, and he was better off getting the beast's attention away from himself than actively fighting it.
He thought back to his fight against Ron and Malfoy once again for some reason, and a plan began to take shape in his head. He pointed his wand at the dragon's head. "Serpensortia."
A nasty rattlesnake landed on the dragon's head, coincidentally right next to its eye. The snake hissed and bit the beast's eye, and the dragon roared in rage. He watched as the dragon moved its claw and swatted the snake away, but by then Harry was already moving his wand to conjure more snakes.
"Serpensortia. Serpensortia. Serpensortia!"
Pythons and snakes of all different sizes sailed from his wand and landed on the dragon, as the Hungarian Horntail shook and spun in an effort to deal with them. Harry didn't wait this time, and dashed straight for the exit to the arena.
"Filthy flying serpent." He heard one snake hiss from its spot on the dragon's back, and he let out a laugh.
The arena's exit led directly to another tunnel, this one connected to the medical tent where Madam Pomfrey was overseeing the champions. At his entrance, she marched right up to him and looked him over without wasting a moment.
"Well, you don't look too beat-up this time, Potter." She muttered, patting part of his uniform that was singed by dragonfire. "I ought to hand it to you for facing a dragon of all things. Any injuries I should know about?"
"Just tired, Madam Pomfrey." He sighed, grateful that he wouldn't have to spend more time in the hospital wing.
"That is to be expected after facing a dragon." She sniffed in distaste. "And I'd love to know whose idea that was."
She left him to go check on the other champions, and Harry looked on to see that Cedric was covered in all sorts of different bandages. Krum wasn't nearly as injured, but the quidditch star looked worse for wear, with a couple of nasty bruises covering his form. The last champion, of course, looked completely untouched.
"I can only assume your plan worked." Fleur looked him over, eyeing parts of his uniform that were torn and singed. "Partially."
"I guess you could say that-"
"Harry!" A little girl's shout interrupted him, and Fleur's sister, Gabrielle, came running towards him. She excitedly jumped up and down and began speaking in rapid-fire French. He didn't understand what she was saying, but clearly the girl was excited about his performance in the task.
Laughter got his attention, and he looked up to see Fleur and another girl from Beauxbatons giggling at the scene. Fleur said a few words to her sister in French, and Gabrielle nodded before leaving.
"Sorry about her, she's just excited about everything." Fleur said to him.
"What did you tell her?"
"I said to go find our parents." She said, before gesturing at her friend. "Harry, this is my friend Aimee. Aimee, this is-"
"Harry Potter, of course." Fleur's friend, a beautiful brunette girl wearing a Beauxbatons uniform eyed him, a teasing smirk on her lips. "This is ze one you let sleep in your bed?"
Harry sputtered. "What? I-well, no-"
"Don't mind her, Harry." Fleur cut him off, as if this was routine. But he couldn't help but notice she too had red spots on her cheeks. "She just likes to get under my skin."
"You act as if this is not a big deal, non?" Aimee gave Fleur a teasing look. "Yet you just sent your parents away before he arrived."
"Sadly, your attempts to goad me won't work. Now come, Harry, we need to see what your score is." Fleur smirked as she led him out of the tent and towards the arena. "I'd like to see who won our wager, after all."
He swallowed thickly, having completely forgotten about that. They made their way to the edge of the stands as watched the judge's deliberations.
Crouch was the first one to go, raising his wand first from the judge's table, and a ten shot into the air. After that came Bagman and then Dumbledore, who both also gave him a ten. The crowd was roaring with approval at this point, and Harry watched as Madame Maxime gave him an eight, followed by Karkaroff who gave his performance a six.
"Forty-four." He blinked, then looked at Fleur expectantly.
'Anything you want.' He remembered her words from earlier, feeling his hormones racing in anticipation.
"Congratulations." She smiled, then her lips curled upwards to make it more of a smug smirk. "I got forty-six."