When Harry woke up on the morning of the second task, it was to an empty bed, and he felt a distinct cold against his skin. His brows furrowed as he slowly roused himself, sitting on the bed. He yawned, blinking back the moisture in his eyes, and as his eyes darted around in curiosity, he noticed a folded piece of parchment sitting on the table beside him.
Frowning, he reached out and picked it up, and as he read, he let out a small sigh.
"Well, that explains why she's not here," he muttered to the empty room, silently incinerating the parchment. He watched as it crumbled to ash and vanished before it could hit the floor, and climbed out of the bed.
Roughly an hour later, a refreshed Harry Potter made his way out of the castle and onto the grounds, taking in the morning atmosphere.
The pale morning sun cast shimmering light across the Black Lake, painting the grounds in hues of silver and gold. Harry made his way over to the bank, the slight chill of the morning air sharpening his focus on the task ahead. He felt calm, sure of himself—today wasn't about uncertainty, not for him. He had been preparing for months, making excursions to the depths of the Black Lake and working on different ways to ensure he could breathe underwater. The Weasley Twins had come up clutch once again, and with this invention of theirs, he was confident that they would not only help him out but also make thousands of galleons by way of sales.
As Harry walked along the shore, he caught sight of the young woman by the water's edge, standing tall and poised as ever, surveying the lake with a look of calm determination. She wasn't alone though. Beside her stood an elegant couple whose mere presence screamed quiet power and refinement. With them was another girl who looked strikingly like Fleur but a few inches smaller in height. She had the same steely gaze as she surveyed the lake, yet it was tempered with a softer curiosity.
Harry approached the small group of four, as previously asked in the small missive Fleur had left behind. He caught her eyes as he neared, and watched her lips twitch into a faint, wry smile. Her eyes lit up in a welcoming manner as she gave him a subtle nod, faintly gesturing toward her family with her head. Harry gave her an understanding smile, earning an approving nod from her.
"'Arry, good timing," she said in a low voice tinged with playful mischief, and Harry recognized it instantly. A resigned sigh of amusement almost left him but he held it in, walking forward. "My family has just arrived, and let me tell you, they seem a bit too eager to meet the Hogwarts champion who is so keen on stealing my spotlight."
She tilted her head elegantly toward the trio standing with her as they turned to him.
"Ah, so you've told them about me, then?" He asked smoothly, his voice carrying a hint of humor. "And if there's anyone stealing anything here, it's you."
Fleur's eyes gleamed, the meaning not lost on her. She had indeed stolen it, and she was damn proud of it. "Oui, you are right about that."
She turned toward her parents and sister, hiding a giggle as she saw the look on the latter's face, and made a subtle motion of introduction with her hand. "Mama, Papa, Gabby this is 'Arry Potter. 'Arry, my father Sebastian, and my mother Apolline, and…" She paused, smirking at the youngest in attendance. "My little sister Gabrielle."
Gabrielle's cheeks flushed, and she averted her eyes quickly.
Harry inclined his head politely toward Fleur's parents as he met their eyes. "It's a pleasure to meet you all," he smiled warmly. He did not miss Gabrielle's reaction and he was filled with amusement when he recalled the conversation he'd had with Fleur about her.
Apolline Delacour's eyes sparkled with genuine warmth, her delicate features lighting up as she stepped forward, pulling him in for a kiss on each cheek. "Enchantée, Monsieur Potter," she murmured, her tone rich with charm. "Eet eez wonderful to meet you. We 'ave, indeed, 'eard much about you."
"Likewise," Harry replied, his tone even, as though he were simply among familiar friends. He extended a hand to Fleur's father who took it with a firm grip and an approving smile.
"Good to meet you, Monsieur Potter," he said, his accent nonexistent and his voice resonant but warm. "Thank you for the help you gave Fleur in the first task. It's good to see such camaraderie between champions."
"Oui. We saw 'ow you 'elped Fleur out wiz zat dragon… 'ow you 'ow do you say deflected its attention from 'er and gave 'er zat idea. Eet means a great deal to us, truly."
Harry's eyes flicked to Fleur for a moment, a subtle smile passing between them. "I just did what anyone would've done," he said, his tone casual. "Fleur had the bad luck there. The barrier shouldn't have given away, and my dragon was mine to handle. It wouldn't have been right if she'd had to face two dragons. Still, she handled herself impressively, doing everything on her own. I was just glad to make it a fair competition. And please, call me Harry."
Sebastian's brows lifted slightly, his smile deepening as he exchanged a loaded glance with his wife. "Impressive and modest, I see," he noted with an approving look on his face. "And yes, you may address us by our names as well. That is the least you have earned after helping our daughter out."
"He's always so modest," Fleur added with a playful glance, clearly amused by the formality of her parents' gratitude. She leaned in, whispering, "Though he secretly loves the praise."
Harry smirked, having half a mind to give this alluring vixen a firm spank on her bubbly behind that looked especially enchanting in that tight skirt she wore. His focus was caught by Gabrielle though, who looked as though she were summoning every ounce of courage just to stand by her parents with a polite smile.
He turned to her, and keeping his tone friendly, he greeted, "Nice to meet you too, Miss Delacour. Your sister has told me a lot about you."
Gabrielle's eyes widened as she sharply eyed Fleur who gazed back with an unabashed smirk. The younger veela's eyes narrowed slightly as Fleur winked. Harry merely watched the silent interaction with amusement shining in his eyes.
"Oui," Fleur began, still smirking. "You deserved to know about such a diehard fan of yours, 'Arry. One who grew up on the heroics of the great 'Arry Potter, the savior of damsels and the slayer of dragons."
"Fleur!" Gabrielle hissed, visibly mortified. "That was years ago!"
"Doesn't mean it isn't true, does it?" Fleur shrugged calmly, still smirking. "Although I must say, both of those things did turn out to be true."
"You are the furthest thing from a damsel," Gabrielle retorted, before she muttered to herself, "Silly bitch."
"Gabby," Apolline chided, but there was no bite to it. Harry had a feeling that it was a frequent occurrence and that the woman had gotten used to it by now.
He chuckled, amused by the dynamic between the two sisters. "No worries, Miss Delacour," he said smoothly. "I'm honored to have a supporter from Beauxbatons."
Gabrielle's unimpressed look vanished as she turned to him with a small, relieved smile. Her cheeks still burned as she gazed at him, and Apolline, highly amused, placed a gentle hand on her younger daughter's shoulder.
"A lot of zat blame goes to me, I must admit," she smiled as she turned to Harry. "Zose books were famous even in France, and Gabby loved eet when I read zem out to 'er."
"I understand," Harry smiled politely. "And I can see that you're not a typical fangirl. You're certainly not acting like one, after all."
"Don't give her any ideas," Fleur butted in once again, earning herself a dark look from her sister that did nothing but amuse her further. Harry and Sebastian merely chuckled together.
Turning back to Harry, Sebastian gazed at him with an appraising gleam in his eyes, and it was a look Harry recognized all too well.
"So, Harry," the man began, folding his hands behind his back as he observed the young wizard with an approving nod, "I admit I'm quite curious about your approach to the first task. It seems you used the dragon's own blood as a protective shield. That's… remarkably inventive, not to mention risky."
Harry met Sebastian's gaze, unfazed, a glint of humor in his eyes. "Thank you," he replied smoothly. "I figured brute force wouldn't work against a Hungarian Horntail—far too predictable, not to mention dangerous. So I made the best of the resources I had."
He mentally commended the man for not jumping to conclusions, otherwise most of the people who had asked him about it had directly accused him of using Blood Magic. As if he would need to resort to such a crude branch of magic which, while highly effective, demanded sacrifices that he was frankly unwilling to even consider, let alone make.
Sebastian's brows lifted, his expression turning thoughtful. "So, you chose the dragon's blood to shield yourself from its fire specifically?"
"Yes. Dragon's blood can be… temperamental," Harry said, carefully choosing his words. "But with the right approach, it has natural resistances to dragonfire. The challenge was in weaving it carefully, so it wouldn't react to my own magic. For everything else—like the Horntail's claws, or its tail—I relied on shield charms."
Apolline's eyes sparkled with a touch of awe. "And you did zis under ze dragon's nose?" she asked, her voice somewhere between admiration and disbelief. "Zat must 'ave taken quite a bit of nerve, non?"
Harry understood where the woman was coming from. Dragons were territorial creatures, and quite temperamental as well. Furthermore, he was up against a Hungarian Horntail, which was regarded as the most aggressive and one of the most dangerous breeds in existence. Such daring in the face of a creature like that required balls of steel.
Harry smiled and brushed off the compliment with a small shrug. "I suppose it was a big of a gamble," he admitted. "But the Horntail's attention was on her eggs, it was agitated because of all those injuries I inflicted on it beforehand, and the barrier had come down as well. Given the circumstances, I figured it wouldn't notice what I was doing until it was too late. In the end, it kept things fair—no unfair advantage, just a bit of creative thinking."
Sebastian let out a low chuckle, exchanging a quick glance with Apolline, who watched Harry with newfound respect. "You say that so calmly," he remarked, shaking his head, "as if you weren't feet away from one of the deadliest magical creatures on Earth, testing its own blood as a barrier. Even if we factor that in, the knowledge that you demonstrated isn't something you find in every book lying around in a bookstore or a library."
Harry met his gaze directly, a small, almost amused smile touching his lips. "Sometimes, confidence helps more than any spell," he said lightly. "The trick is understanding your opponent's weaknesses as much as their strengths. In this case, the Horntail was more concerned with protecting her eggs, and sufficiently distracted by everything going on around it than attacking me."
Fleur's gaze lingered on Harry with a mix of pride and surprise, clearly impressed by his careful assessment. They had never discussed these aspects before, instead choosing to occupy themselves with acts that were much more pleasurable. Even though they talked, they had never delved anywhere close to magical theories and spells.
"So you observed her reactions," she murmured, "and used them to guide your approach?"
"Exactly." Harry nodded, catching her eye with a faint smile. "That dragon was fierce, but she was predictable in her protectiveness and confused aggression. In the end, it was more about reading her than overpowering her."
"Reading her…" Sebastian repeated, considering Harry's words with a mixture of surprise and approval. "That's an approach few would take, let alone think of in the heat of the moment."
"Your methods," Apolline added thoughtfully, "seem razer unique for someone your age, 'Arry. You know," she continued, leaning slightly forward, "not many wizards would zink to turn zeir opponent's strengths against zem."
Harry smiled faintly, deflecting the silent question with practiced ease. "Let's just say I've had a fair bit of experience handling dangerous creatures over the years. It's taught me a lot about paying attention to the details."
Sebastian's curiosity lingered, his eyes narrowing slightly, but he seemed to sense that Harry wasn't keen on elaborating. Instead, he nodded, a touch of admiration in his gaze. "I see. Quite the resourceful thinker, then." He exchanged a quick, pleased glance with Apolline.
"I can see why Fleur speaks so 'ighly of you," Apolline added, her voice softening with genuine warmth. "Eet's rare to see such… composure. Especially under pressure." Her smile widened, her gaze filled with an emotion Harry could not exactly pinpoint. "Sebastian, I believe 'Arry's approach is rubbing off on our daughter—she sounds more determined zan ever for today's task."
Harry glanced at Fleur, whose expression softened with the faintest smile. She held herself steady, her confidence evident but Harry could also discern her carrying the same unspoken caution that he shared—their knowledge of what he had discovered in the lake, and what they might face in a matter of hours. For her family's sake, she concealed the concern as well as he did, giving nothing away.
He gave her a meaningful look, conveying his silent support, and both simultaneously recalled their discussion from before. Their objective was to compete against each other, but it did not supersede what truly mattered their safety from whatever the organizers had cooked up underwater.
"I think you'll see that Fleur has plenty of ingenuity herself," Harry replied, meeting Fleur's gaze with a look of respect. "She's not exactly one to back down."
"Oh, yes," Apolline murmured, a playful smile crossing her lips. "Fleur is nozing if not relentless when it comes to achieving her goals. Ze more dangerous ze challenge, ze more she's determined to succeed." She cast her daughter a knowing glance.
"Well," Fleur said, her tone amused but carrying an unmistakable determination, "I can't let Harry here show me up."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Harry replied with a smirk, his eyes glinting mischievously.
Gabrielle took one look at him and let out an unladylike snort, making him glance toward her. She subtly shook her head, her blue eyes shining in mirth.
"Fleur 'as mentioned as much," Sebastian remarked, an approving smile on his face. "It sounds like this year's tournament has been as much about strategy as it has bravery."
"Indeed, and strategy is somezing Fleur 'as mastered," Apolline chimed in, casting a proud look at her daughter. "And if 'Arry's creative approach rubs off on 'er, well, per'aps we'll see 'er adding somezing like dragon blood to 'er spellwork next."
Harry chuckled softly, glancing at Apolline with a warm smile. "Maybe. But Fleur has her own methods—more thorough than mine, I'd say. I might improvise, but she prefers to be as prepared as she can, as I'm sure you know already."
Fleur arched a brow, giving him a look of mock disapproval. "Improvise?" she repeated, a hint of teasing in her voice. "That's a rather generous word for 'risking everything in the moment.'"
"Some risks are worth it," Harry quipped instantly, a flicker of challenge in his eyes as he gazed at her meaningfully. The smoldering look she gave him almost made him break the act and it was challenging to restrain himself, but he somehow managed. The smirk she gave him told him everything he wanted to know. Clearing his throat politely, he continued, "Besides, isn't that what this tournament's about? Pushing limits, finding out exactly what we're capable of?"
Apolline watched the exchange between her daughter and Harry with a thoughtful smile, glancing between them. "A fair point," she murmured as if she were piecing together something unspoken in their dynamic. "I imagine eet's comforting to 'ave someone alongside you 'oo… understands zat perspective."
Harry inclined his head, a hint of a smile on his face. "It's an interesting competition, that's for sure," he replied smoothly.
There was a quiet pause that was broken by Sebastian who had been quietly observing Harry all this while. With a small smile, he turned to his younger daughter who was gazing at Harry with respect and admiration in her gaze, utterly enthralled and hanging on to every word that came out of his mouth. Casting her an amused glance, he remarked, "Well, I believe Gabrielle has found her source of inspiration in Harry here once again. Only this time, it is entirely based on what she has observed and not what she read in a book."
Gabrielle blushed slightly, a small smile dancing on her face as she gazed at her father who smiled at her warmly. "Maybe," she muttered. "I'll be supporting Fleur, but I'll be cheering for you too, 'Arry."
Harry gave her a small smile, nodding. "I appreciate your support, Gabrielle. And I'd expect nothing less either. Your sister is an impressive champion, and she will make Beauxbatons proud."
Sebastian nodded approvingly, extending his hand once more to Harry, his expression one of respect. "Bonne chance, Harry. We're looking forward to seeing both of you show what you're capable of today."
Harry returned the handshake with a firm, steady grip, his eyes meeting Sebastian's with confidence. "Thank you, Mr. Delacour. I think you'll find this task full of surprises."
Sebastian raised an askance eyebrow as his wife, Apolline gave him a warm smile as well. "Indeed. Best of luck, 'Arry," she said softly, although her eyes darted to both her daughters as if she was piecing together something.
Harry nodded, and he could feel the allures of all three veela women trying to interact with him, undoubtedly affected by the sheer daring he had demonstrated during the task and this conversation, and after being with Fleur for so long, he could shrug it all off with nary a thought.
As he turned to leave, he cast a final glance at Fleur, her blue eyes meeting his with a knowing look. All the while, Apolline kept her eyes on the two, watching them in silence.
-Break-
The crisp chilly February air was filled with a low hum of anticipation mixed with excitement and the sky was overcast at noon as a throng of students made their way down the gravelly pathways that led to the Black Lake.
A line of seats had been set up along the shoreline for the judges and spectators, and behind them, enchanted banners billowed in the breeze, shimmering with the names of the three champions: Harry Potter, Fleur Delacour, and Viktor Krum.
Three large tents were erected behind the seats, mostly hidden from view with no one in sight as the champions therein prepared for the upcoming task.
Alongside the Hufflepuff crowd, Susan Bones walked along the shoreline with her best friend Hannah, her eyes on the structure erected for the spectators. Her gaze traveled beyond and came to rest on the tents. She bit her lower lip in indecision, her mind filled with the same turmoil that had plagued her ever since she had spent those moments in the library with Harry.
"You're doing it again," Hannah whispered so that only she could hear, and Susan jerked slightly. "You know you can just get it over with, right? It's not as if he would be mad at you or anything."
"You don't know that," Susan muttered.
"Of course, I know that!" Hannah exclaimed in a whisper. "Have you looked at yourself, Sue? He'd be a total idiot, or gay, to overlook you, and let's be honest, we both know he's not gay, if that spring in Bell's steps is anything to go by."
Susan flushed brilliantly at the reminder. She, like almost every girl from Hogwarts and beyond had seen how Katie Bell had been glowing ever since the Yule Ball, and it was anyone's guess what the reason was. Granted that the rumor mill might have embellished a lot of details, as it always did, but still, it gave her a very vivid picture of what the point of discussion was.
"So trust me, Sue. Stop overthinking and just go for it. I'll save you a seat," Hannah nudged her gently toward the tents.
Susan's steps faltered as she gazed ahead before she turned around. No one was paying her any attention, too absorbed in their excitement for the upcoming task. She saw Hannah give her a pointed look and a thumbs up as she left with the rest of the crowd, leaving her standing away from the rest, her eyes on the tent with the Hogwarts crest on it. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Susan straightened and nodded firmly.
She had put it away for too long. It was indeed time to just get on with it.
-Break-
Harry stared at the little sphere between his fingers, eyeing the swirls inside. The sphere glowed invitingly and he smiled to himself.
The twins had outdone themselves this time. He had been slightly skeptical even when they had explained everything to him, and it was only when he had tried it out for himself that he realized what a remarkable invention this was. It had the potential to revolutionize how the wizarding folk tackled anything underwater, and with the artifact now patented with ICW certification thanks to a few strings he had pulled with Dumbledore, he was envisioning quite a rainfall of gold in the near and distant future.
The task was supposed to start in a little more than an hour, but Harry decided to just get it over with. He popped the candy in his mouth and began to swirl it around, loving the flavor. It was miles better than Gillyweed in functionality, but he would've preferred it just for the taste itself.
He heard the rustle of the tent behind him and turned around, expecting either the Headmaster or Professor McGonagall. However, he was surprised when he saw none other than Susan Bones standing in the shadowed doorway if one could call it that. Her gaze was unreadable as she stepped quietly inside, closing the flap behind her.
"Susan?" Harry asked, half-straightening, his face a mix of curiosity and confusion as he gazed at the nervous-looking girl.
She held his gaze, however, and he could see how bright and intense her eyes were. "I… I thought you would like some company for the next hour until you've got to go out there. At least, given… you know… the task and all…"
Harry blinked, unsure of how to respond. This was the first time they were speaking after that little session in the library during which she had spent more than necessary time thanking him profusely for his intervention during the Yule Ball.
The prick from Durmstrang had been taught a severe lesson, albeit not overly physical, but it seemed as if it had had the intended effect. The idiot had not shown his face in the castle since that night.
Shaking his head, Harry gave her his attention but before he could form a word in response, she moved towards him. Her steps were slow but purposeful, and somehow, Harry felt the air in the tent grow warm despite the February chill that had been exacerbated by the overcast weather.
She was close now; close enough that he could smell a faint, fruity scent that sent his blood rushing faster than it should've.
"Susan…" he murmured, feeling completely at a loss.
She shook her head, placing a finger to his lips. "I want to wish you all the best for the task," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes were searching his face, for what, Harry didn't know, but suddenly, her hand was on his cheek, caressing gently.
It was a soft, slow, and intimate touch that he had not expected from her, and it sent a thrill down his spine. He had been told to do this, to manipulate this girl for a cause, and he had been unable to bring himself to do it. Yet, here she was, standing so close to him, touching him so intimately. He saw a hint of hesitation on her face for a split second before she leaned in, her lips brushing his in a tentative, testing kiss.
The unexpected warmth of her mouth stole his thoughts, igniting something raw and real. Before he could fully comprehend it, his hands found her waist, steadying her, and pulling her a fraction closer. She responded immediately, deepening the kiss, as if every ounce of hesitation had disappeared, replaced by a boldness that took him by surprise.
They pulled back for a brief moment, their breaths mingling, and their faces inches apart. "You really don't have to—" he began, but she silenced him with a look, her hand tracing down his chest, her touch both soft and assured.
"I want to," she replied, her voice a whisper but filled with conviction. "I've finally been able to… This doesn't have to lead anywhere. I'm not trying to claim or prove anything here. Just… Today, just… let me."
Her gaze held his, a silent promise and a plea all at once, and it left him with no room to doubt her intentions.
They came together again, their lips meeting with a hunger that neither had expected, a pulse of desire erupting within them that neither could resist. Her mouth was soft, warm against his, parting just enough to let him push his tongue in, to taste her, drawing him in deeper. His hands found her waist, his fingers pressing firmly, almost hesitantly, against the curve of her hips.
He felt her shiver beneath his touch. She leaned into him, her own hands sliding slowly up his chest, pausing over the rapid beat of his heart as if savoring the effect she had on him.
His pulse quickened as her fingertips traced a path along his collarbone, light as a whisper, before moving up to cup his jaw, guiding him closer. She kissed him again, deeper this time, and he felt the heat of her breath against his cheek, warm and intoxicating. His hands drifted higher, his thumbs grazing the bare skin just below her ribcage, where her shirt had ridden up, and the touch sent a thrill through him.
In response, Susan's fingers trailed into his hair, tugging gently as if anchoring herself to him. He could feel her heartbeat, rapid and strong, echoing his own. Her touch traveled down to his neck, fingertips grazing his skin, leaving a warm, tingling trail as she traced the muscles there, feeling his sharp intake of breath when she pressed her palm against his shoulder. Her touch was firm and possessive – something he had not expected.
They stood close, their bodies molded together. The tent's cool air was a stark contrast against the growing heat between them. She pressed herself closer, fitting against him with a sigh that was half a whisper. Her hot breath ghosted along his jaw as she tilted her head, letting her lips brush his neck.
Harry's own hands traveled up her back, exploring the curve of her spine. The soft fabric of her shirt slid under his fingers as he held her to him. Every inch of her felt warm and vibrant as if she were pouring her own energy into him with every touch.
When her lips found the sensitive spot just below his ear, he couldn't suppress the quiet groan that escaped him. His hands gripped her a bit tighter, his fingers flexing against her skin. Her touch was electric, grounding and igniting him at once, and he found himself drawn to the delicate line of her collarbone, pressing soft, lingering kisses there.
She responded with a soft gasp, her own hands moving lower. She traced the strong line of his shoulders and down his arms, feeling the tension coiled just beneath his skin.
They stood there, locked in each other's arms, their lips meeting once again in a searing kiss. Her hands roamed the length of his back, slipping under his shirt just enough for her fingertips to brush along his spine. The intimate touch drew a shiver from him. His heartbeat seemed to pulse in every part of him, loud and steady, matching hers as they pulled away. Her forehead pressed gently against his, both catching their breaths, their eyes closed.
Without a word, she brought her hands up to cup his face, her thumbs brushing along his cheekbones with a tenderness that caught him off guard. The intensity of her gaze held him still, and he felt the weight of her emotions in that single look. She did not speak a word, but he understood anyway. Her fingers trailed down to his neck again, and Harry felt as if she was committing the feel of him to her memory, believing that this was the only chance she had to memorize every little aspect of him.
Finally, she leaned in once more, her lips grazing his gently. She lingered for a few moments before she pulled back, her forehead resting against his, and their breaths mingling once again in the quiet warmth.
"You've got all the luck you need now, Harry," she murmured, her voice a whisper filled with emotion, as if she, too, was surprised by the depth of what had just transpired.
Harry stayed there, holding her close as she pulled back, and a smile found its way to his lips.
"I believe I do," he whispered as he felt her move, and his hold on her slackened. He remained rooted to the spot as he watched her take one step back, followed by another, and another, until she was no longer there.
A chilly breeze shot in through the open flap as Harry stood in the middle of his tent, his fingers still tingling with the feeling of her skin against them and his lips still feeling the lingering touch of hers.
Closing his eyes, Harry heaved a sigh and threw himself on the small couch in front of the mirror, eyeing himself.
"Well… that happened."
TBC.
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