Ron Weasley stood by the garden gate, looking like he'd been through hell. His clothes were dirty and torn, his face haggard, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept properly in weeks.
"Ron!" Tonks called out. "What are you doing here? What happened?"
Ron's shoulders sagged with relief at seeing friendly faces. "Tonks. Fleur." He looked around wildly. "Is Bill here? I need... I need to see my brother."
"Of course," Fleur said, though something felt off about this. "But Ron, where are 'Arry and 'Ermione? Why aren't they with you?"
Ron's face crumpled, and he looked away.
"They're... they're fine. I think. I don't know."
"You don't know?" Tonks asked sharply. "What do you mean you don't know?"
"I left," Ron blurted out, surprising them. "I left them. I couldn't... it was too much. The hunting and the camping and that bloody locket making everything worse. Harry wouldn't listen to reason, and Hermione just went along with whatever he said, and I..."
"You left them?" Fleur's voice was deadly quiet.
"You don't understand," Ron said desperately. "You weren't there. Harry's obsessed with this wild goose chase Dumbledore sent him on. We've been camping for months with no leads, no progress, nothing. Just moving from place to place while people are dying. My family could be dead for all I knew, and Harry wants to keep chasing shadows."
"So you abandoned them." Fleur stated. It wasn't a question.
"I didn't abandon—"
"You left 'Arry and 'Ermione alone in ze middle of ze most dangerous time of their lives!" Fleur exclaimed, her accent getting thicker. "You left zem when zey needed you most."
"Fleur, you don't understand—"
"I understand perfectly," Fleur cut him off, her voice rising. "You are a coward, Ronald Weasley. A selfish, pathetic coward."
Ron's face flushed red in anger as he glared at her. "How dare you—"
"'Ow dare I?" Fleur laughed, but there was no humor in it. "'Arry saved my sister's life. 'E saved mine during ze tournament when 'e 'ad no reason to. 'E 'as sacrificed everything for zis war, and you just... you just walk away?"
"You think it's that simple?" Ron shot back. "You think I wanted to leave? That locket was driving us all mad. It made everything worse, made me think things—"
"So you blame a locket for your cowardice?"
"It wasn't cowardice! It was... I was trying to be realistic. We were getting nowhere, people were dying, and Harry wouldn't even consider that maybe Dumbledore was wrong about something for once in his life. This bloody mission…"
Tonks had been listening to this exchange with growing alarm. "Ron, what exactly is Harry doing? What mission?"
"Hunting Horcruxes," Ron said bitterly. "Pieces of You-Know-Who's soul hidden in objects. Dumbledore left Harry some cryptic instructions about finding and destroying them, but we've barely managed to find one in months of looking."
Both Fleur and Tonks' eyes widened in alarm. They turned to each other, and Tonks gave her a firm nod. They'd discuss this later.
"And you think zat is not important?" Fleur demanded, turning back to Ron with a glare.
"I think there has to be a better way than wandering around aimlessly while our families are in danger!"
"Your family is safe at ze Burrow with protection. 'Arry 'as no family left except ze friends who support 'im. And you abandoned 'im."
"I didn't—"
"Get out." Fleur's voice was ice cold.
"What?"
"Get out of zis cottage. Go back to 'Arry and 'Ermione and beg their forgiveness. Tell them you were wrong and you are sorry and you will never abandon them again."
Ron stared at her in shock. "I came here to see my brother—"
"Your brother is dealing with 'is own problems right now. 'E does not need to see what a disappointment 'is little brother 'as become."
The words hit Ron like a slap. His face went white, then red again.
"You can't throw me out. This isn't even your house."
"It is my 'ome, and I say you are not welcome 'ere while you continue to be a coward," Fleur hissed, ignoring the sting of Ron's words.
"Fleur," Tonks said quietly, "maybe we should—"
"No." Fleur's eyes never left Ron's face. "I 'ave 'eard enough. 'Arry needs you, Ron. 'Ermione needs you. And instead of being where you belong, you come 'ere looking for comfort and expecting us to tell you zat abandoning your friends was ze right thing to do. Well, I will not do zat."
"You don't know what it was like—"
"I know what it is like to be afraid," Fleur said. "I know what it is like to want to run away when things become difficult. But I also know zat courage is not ze absence of fear. It is doing what is right despite ze fear."
Before Ron could respond, they heard voices approaching. Bill and Remus were walking back from the beach, their conversation cut short by the sound of raised voices.
"What's going on?" Bill called out, but he stopped short when he saw Ron. His face lit up with the first genuine smile Fleur had seen from him in days. "Ron! What are you doing here?"
The change in Bill's demeanor was immediate and painful to watch. Here was a glimpse of the man Fleur had married, before lycanthropy and rejection and walls built between them. And it was for Ron, not for her.
"Bill." Ron's voice broke a little. "I needed... I had to see family."
Bill crossed to his brother quickly, pulling him into a fierce hug. Ron sagged against him, and for a moment he looked like the frightened boy he really was underneath all the bluster.
"It's okay," Bill murmured. "You're here now. You're safe."
Over Bill's shoulder, Ron shot Fleur a triumphant look. But she wasn't intimidated.
"Tell 'im," she said coldly. "Tell your brother what you 'ave done."
Bill pulled back, frowning. "Tell me what?"
Ron's face flushed again, but before he could speak, Tonks stepped forward.
"Ron left Harry and Hermione," she said simply. "In the middle of their mission."
The effect on Bill was immediate. The warmth in his expression faded, replaced by shock and then disappointment.
"Ron... tell me that's not true."
"It's complicated—"
"It's not complicated," Fleur interrupted. "'E abandoned them. While they are 'unting for ways to defeat You-Know-Who, 'e decided it was too 'ard and walked away."
Remus had joined them now, his face grave as he took in the situation. "Ron, is this true?"
"You don't understand," Ron said desperately, looking between his brother and Remus. "The mission is impossible. We've been at it for months with nothing to show for it. People are dying while we chase after things that might not even exist."
"So you gave up," Bill said quietly.
"I made a rational decision—"
"You gave up on Harry." Bill's voice was getting quieter, which was somehow worse than if he'd shouted. "After everything he's done. After everything he's sacrificed. You just... gave up on him."
"Bill, please—"
"Do you have any idea what Harry's been through? What he's given up for all of us?" Bill's eyes were hard now. "He lost his parents to this war. His godfather. Dumbledore. He's carrying the weight of the entire wizarding world on his shoulders, and you decided it was too hard to stand beside him?"
Ron's mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.
"I told 'im to leave," Fleur said. "I told 'im to go back to 'is friends and apologize."
For a moment, something flickered in Bill's eyes that looked almost like his old self. The man who would have been proud of his wife for standing up for what was right. But then his expression shuttered again, and when he looked at her, she saw that familiar revulsion.
"That's not your decision to make," he said.
The words hit Fleur like a physical blow. "What?"
"Ron is my brother. What he does is not your concern."
"Not my concern?" Fleur's voice rose. "'Arry saved my life, my sister's life. 'Ow is zat not my concern?"
"Because you don't have a say in what happens to my family," Bill snapped, his revulsion for Fleur rearing its ugly head.
The silence that followed was deafening. Even Ron looked shocked by the harshness of the words. Tonks took a step forward as if to intervene, but stopped when she saw Fleur's face.
"I see," Fleur said softly, and for a moment, the veil of rage lifted off Bill as he realized what he'd just said.
"Fleur, I didn't mean—" he started, but she cut him off.
"No. You meant it exactly as you said it." Fleur's voice was eerily calm now. "I am not part of zis family. After everything, I am still just ze foreign girl who is not good enough."
"That's not what I said."
"It is exactly what you said. Exactly how your mother and sister feel." Fleur looked around at all of them—Ron avoiding her eyes, Remus looking uncomfortable, Tonks watching with sympathy, and Bill... Bill couldn't even look at her properly. "I stayed wiz you only because I did not care what anyone said as long as you supported me. But I now realize how wrong I was. You feel the same way. You would rather protect your coward brother than stand up for what is right."
"Ron is not a coward—"
"'E is!" Fleur exploded. "'E left 'is best friends to face certain death alone because 'e was scared and uncomfortable. What else would you call zat?"
"He made a mistake—"
"A mistake?" Fleur laughed bitterly. "A mistake is forgetting to send an owl or burning dinner. Abandoning your friends in ze middle of a war is not a mistake. It is a choice."
Bill's jaw tightened. "You don't understand the situation—"
"I understand zat you cannot even bear to look at me, but you will defend ze brother who abandoned 'Arry." Her voice broke slightly on the words. "I understand it all now. I understand zat being a werewolf 'as not changed who you really are, William. It 'as simply revealed it."
"Fleur—" Remus started, but she ignored him.
"Non," she said, looking directly at Bill. "You want to choose your family? Choose zem. But do not expect me to stand 'ere and pretend zat what Ron did was acceptable just because 'e is a Weasley."
Bill's face was white now, but his voice was steady. "Then don't stand here."
Another silence. This one felt final.
"Bill," Tonks said quietly, "maybe you should think about what you're saying."
"I've thought plenty, since everything happened," Bill said without taking his eyes off Fleur. "This was inevitable. It's better to tear the tumor off before it becomes a cancer. Ron, there's a spare room upstairs. Second door on the right."
Ron looked between his brother and Fleur, clearly sensing that he'd walked into something much bigger than his own problems. "Maybe I should go—"
"No." Bill's voice was firm. "You're staying. You're my brother, and this is where you belong."
Fleur stood there for a long moment, looking at the man she'd married. The man who couldn't stand her presence but would welcome his coward brother with open arms. The man who would choose the easy way over doing what was right.
How badly had she misjudged this man? How could she not see his true colors? Was she so disillusioned that it had taken such an adversity to reveal his true nature concerning her?
"Very well," she said finally. "I will not stand 'ere."
She turned and walked back into the cottage without another word. Behind her, she heard Ron mumbling something about being sorry, heard Tonks saying something sharp to Bill, heard Remus trying to mediate. But she didn't stop walking until she reached her room.
She sat on the edge of the bed and stared at her hands. A week ago, she'd thought the worst thing that could happen was Bill becoming a werewolf. She'd thought they would face it together, find a way to make it work.
She'd been naive.
The werewolf bite hadn't changed Bill—it had simply stripped away everything that wasn't essential. And apparently, what was essential to Bill Weasley didn't include his wife.
Footsteps on the stairs made her look up, but they passed her door without stopping. Ron, being shown to his room by his loving brother. The brother who would rather shelter a coward than stand beside the woman who'd tried to defend what was right.
More footsteps. These paused outside her door, and she held her breath.
"Fleur?" It was Tonks.
"Come in."
Tonks entered quietly and closed the door behind her.
"Are you all right?"
Fleur almost laughed. "Do I look all right?"
"No," Tonks said honestly. "You look like your world just fell apart."
"Perhaps because it did." Fleur looked at her hands again. "What am I supposed to do now, Tonks? 'Ow am I supposed to live with someone who chooses 'is coward brother over doing what is right? Someone who cannot even stand to be in ze same room as me? Someone who basically told he I'm no longer needed in his life?"
Tonks sat down beside her on the bed. "I don't know."
"At least you are 'onest."
They sat in silence for a while. Outside, Fleur could hear voices—Bill and Remus talking again, probably about Ron now. About all the things that apparently mattered more than she did.
"I should write to 'Arry," she said suddenly.
"What?"
"'E should know zat Ron is safe. Even if Ron will not go back to 'im, 'Arry should know zat 'is friend is not dead somewhere."
Tonks nodded slowly. "That's... that's actually a good idea. But how would you even reach him?"
"I 'ave ways." Fleur stood up and moved to the small desk in the corner. "Gabrielle knows people in ze Resistance. They 'ave methods of getting messages to those who need them."
She pulled out parchment and a quill, then paused.
"What do I tell 'im?"
"The truth," Tonks said. "That Ron is safe but being an idiot. That you're sorry he's going through this alone."
Fleur nodded and began to write. As she wrote, she felt something settle inside her chest. Not peace, exactly, but purpose. She couldn't fix her marriage. She couldn't make Bill love her again or want her presence. But she could do this small thing for Harry, who deserved to know that someone cared about him.
When she finished, she folded the letter carefully and sealed it with wax.
"I will send zis tonight," she said. "When ze others are asleep."
"And then what?"
Fleur looked around the room again—at the space that was supposed to be theirs but felt like a prison now.
"I do not know," she admitted. "But I cannot stay 'ere after what Bill just said. I cannot pretend zat zis is a marriage worth saving when 'e will not even try to save it."
Tonks was quiet for a moment. "Where will you go?"
"Perhaps to 'Ogwarts to 'elp with ze wounded. I 'ave 'ealing training. Or perhaps I'll look for 'Arry. He will need all the 'elp he can get," she said as she tucked the letter into her robes. "At least I'd be somewhere I can be useful. Somewhere I am wanted."
She moved to the wardrobe and began pulling out clothes, folding them manually. Apparently, it helped her relax.
"You're leaving tonight?"
"I am," Fleur said as she paused in her folding, thinking over her decision. She realized she truly meant every word. "Ze cottage will feel very different for you."
"Everything feels different now."
Silence fell over the room as Fleur packed her belongings while Tonks stood watching and occasionally helping her out. It felt strange, preparing to leave the home she'd thought she'd share with Bill for the rest of their lives. But then again, everything felt strange now.
"Fleur," Tonks said suddenly, "for what it's worth, I think you did the right thing. Standing up for Harry and Hermione."
"It does not matter what was right," Fleur replied. "What matters is zat my 'usband doesn't want to be wiz me anymore. He has been uncertain before. Not anymore."
"He was uncertain? But he married you—"
"Because it was expected. Because calling off ze wedding at zat stage would mean mockery in ze society." Fleur's hands stilled on the dress she was folding. "We never told anyone about zis. And I thought we 'ad worked past zat. I thought our marriage was real. But now I know it never was."
And deep down, Fleur knew that was the truth. She'd been so focused on proving that she could be with Bill despite his family's dislike of her, that she'd never really asked if he loved her enough to fight for their marriage when things got difficult.
Now she had her answer.
"I should let you finish packing," Tonks said quietly.
"Stay, please. I... I do not want to be alone right now."
Tonks obliged, and they packed together in companionable silence.
"For what it's worth," Fleur began after a while, folding the last item of clothing, "at least I 'ave clarity in my life now. About what I want to do."
"And what is it you want to do?" Tonks asked, slowly getting to her feet as Fleur stood up and walked over to the door. The veela grabbed the doorknob and glanced at her friend over her shoulder, a small smile on her face.
"I'll magically annul this marriage," she replied, watching as Tonks' eyes widened, "and then I'll look for 'Arry and 'Ermione. Ze vile things they are 'unting… they will need all ze 'elp zey can get."
Tonks nodded blankly, still reeling from how quickly things had escalated today.
"And Tonks?" Fleur continued. "I 'ope you will join us soon. You do not 'ave anything 'ere either."
A resigned smile emerged on Tonks' face as she nodded. She truly did not.
xXx
"Stubborn little thing," Celeste muttered, wiping the sweat off her brow. "What did that madman do to protect you so well?"
She was leaning over a table, her violet eyes fixed intently on Slytherin's locket. The horcrux lay in the middle of a pentagram she'd drawn in chalk, runes glowing faintly underneath. She'd been at it for a while now, probing the locket's defenses. The thing radiated malevolence and hatred, its dark magic protecting it from every spell and enchantment she'd tried so far.
The results of her detection charms hovered in front of her, and she frowned whenever she looked at them. The defenses drew power from the fragment of soul contained inside.
She barely heard the sound of approaching footsteps in the corridor, too absorbed in this puzzle and too frustrated by her lack of progress.
Harry stood at the door for a moment, leaning against it and simply taking her in from behind. She was wearing a silk crimson dress that barely reached mid-thigh and clung to her like second skin, showing off her delicious rump that he itched to sink his fingers into. With a smirk, he pushed off the wall and slowly walked over, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her back against his chest.
The contact sent an immediate thrill through Celeste, her body recognizing her Master immediately. She melted against him without hesitation, her curves pressing against his solid frame as she breathed in his unique scent. It relaxed her immediately, taking away all the frustration she'd been feeling until now.
"Mmm, Master," she purred, tilting her head sideways to expose her neck as he began to nuzzle her hot skin. "Perfect timing. I was beginning to think I will have to work through my frustrations… alone."
"Any luck?" Harry asked, his voice warm against her ear, his breath stirring the crimson strand of her hair that had escaped from her ponytail. His hands held her possessively by the waist, and Celeste's body thrummed with pleasure at the sensation.
"None," she admitted with a sigh, shifting in his arms and pressing her body more firmly against his. "This thing is protected with enchantments I've never seen before. It's like trying to untangle a knot that tightens every time you try to pull it free."
"If it tightens when you try to pull it free, I guess the solution is to cut it entirely," Harry said softly, peppering her neck with featherlight kisses.
"Which is why I feel the Fiendfyre or the Killing Curse are the best options we have right now," she continued, her voice breathy as his arms tightened around her. "They'd destroy the vessel and sever the link with the soul."
"Fiendfyre is too risky," Harry said quietly. "I can't control it confidently. And the Killing Curse… I don't have the conviction needed to cast that curse, Celeste."
Frowning, Celeste turned around in his arms to face him, her violet eyes staring deep into his emerald ones. She caressed his cheek tenderly, her body pressed flush against his.
"Have you ever tried to cast any of the three dark curses, Master?"
Harry's face darkened as the memory resurfaced in his mind. Celeste noticed immediately, and she began sending pulses of comfort through her touch.
Harry gave her a small smile, leaning into her touch as he began telling her about that night in the Ministry when Voldemort had made a right fool out of him.
"It was right after Bellatrix killed Sirius. I'd never felt rage like that before. I was devastated, and I wanted revenge. I didn't just want her to die. No, I wanted her to suffer," he paused, taking a deep breath. "I had every emotion the curse needed to feed on. But when I cast the Cruciatus… it barely worked. She cackled, like she always does. Told me I had to mean it, that I had to enjoy causing pain."
Celeste stared at him, seeing how much pain he was carrying within himself. Her Master truly had led a hard life. Her hand glowed over his cheek as she sent more powerful magical pulses to comfort him. Caressing his skin, she said softly, "Sirius must have meant a lot to you."
A small smile emerged on Harry's face as he nodded. "He was nothing like the rest of the Blacks. Those assholes knew nothing beyond blood purity, dark magic, and cruelty. Sirius rejected it all. He ran away from home when he was sixteen and never looked back. His mother was so furious she burned his name right off the family tapestry."
Celeste hummed thoughtfully, her body shifting against his sensually as she draped herself against his front. Harry glanced down at her and a small glint entered his eye as he realized what she was doing.
"Even so," she began huskily. "He could have never become what you've become to me. He could never have been my Master the way you are."
She was appealing to his newfound domineering side, and boy was she succeeding. The way she said the word 'Master', low and reverent and filled with genuine devotion, sent a pulse straight through him. Her hips pressed firmly against his as she spoke, and his grip on her tightened even further.
"I know you're the one behind Hermione's changes, by the way," he said, pulling her flush against himself. "There's no way she would've turned into what she is now on her own, not so quickly."
Celeste saw no reason to deny it. She grinned up at him with satisfaction, her body arching hotly, pressing her large, half-exposed tits against him.
"Everything I do is for you, my beloved Master. I simply helped her see what was already there, what she already felt. Those were her own thoughts and desires. All I did was nudge her a bit. That's all."
"It's good that you didn't do anything more. Still, I want you to remember something," Harry said warningly, and her eyes flashed at his tone. The sheer authority in his tone sent heat pooling deep within her belly. This was the Harry Potter she had created—confident, decisive, commanding, and unafraid to make demands. She gazed up at him heatedly, wetting her parted lips with her tongue.
"Anything, Master," she whispered adoringly.
"I don't want you to use magical manipulation on people I care about," Harry continued firmly.
"Of course, Master," Celeste agreed eagerly, her voice breathier than before. "But if you give me permission, or if they ask for help in understanding their desires…"
She trailed off, raising an eyebrow as she rubbed herself against his hard-on poking her lower belly, her intentions clear.
Harry ignored her ministrations and considered what she said. He was not delusional. Celeste might be fully obedient to him, but to carry out that obedience, he knew she would eagerly go unethical, manipulating people left, right, and centre if it meant he would benefit. The last thing he wanted was for women to come in his life without their free will or desire.
"That's fair. Just… check with me first."
"Always," Celeste breathed. "But Master, how did you know I nudged Hermione?"
"Ignoring the looks you two kept sharing?" Harry chuckled, his hands moving to cup her face tenderly. "Because I know Hermione, Celeste. She's brilliant, yes, but she overthinks everything. It would've taken her months to work through all the complex emotions involved in this, especially after everything that happened with Ron. She'd consider everything going here disgusting. Giving up her freedom like that, treating me like her Master, putting my pleasures and desires above everything else? The fact that she decided everything so quickly, so decisively…" He shook his head ruefully. "No way she could've done it without external help. I didn't do anything, which leaves you."
"Are you disappointed that I manipulated her?" She asked in a small voice, and Harry realized that disappointing him was the last thing she would ever want. He caressed her cheek lovingly, and she leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttered closed for a moment in absolute pleasure.
"No, Celeste," he said tenderly, yet firmly, willing her to believe his words. "I'm grateful. After what happened with Ron… what she's been seeing around here, what's happening with this soul fragment inside my head… she needed that push to stop fighting herself. And I…" He paused, collecting himself. "I needed her to want this freely, without any doubts. You helped her realize it all, and this has helped all of us."
Celeste gave him a radiant smile and kissed the inside of his palm lovingly. Harry stroked her cheeks with his thumbs one last time before pulling away.
"Then I have no regrets. You need women for the ritual. I wanted her to come around quickly. Now that she has, we can do it with her tonight if you want. I'll prepare the room in no time."
Harry's pulse quickened slightly at the thought. He had already claimed Hermione as his, and although the experience had been bloody brilliant, the magic of the ritual was something else.
Celeste smiled at his visible reaction, and she leaned against him, caressing his chest lovingly. Harry glanced down at her and shook his head slightly.
"We'll see," he replied. "Hermione will have a say in this as well."
"You are her Master as well," Celeste said with a small smile. "She has accepted you as such. She will do as you say, Master."
"That might be, but she's my friend as well, Celeste. She will have a say, and so will every other woman who becomes part of this… arrangement, including you."
"Harem, Master," Celeste purred, loving how he was being considerate of her as well. This is what made her Master truly worthy of everything she had planned for him. He was the most caring Master anyone could ever ask for.
"Yeah," Harry coughed slightly, still not comfortable with the term. "For now, let's focus on the problem at hand."
He gestured toward the locked sitting innocuously on the table, and Celeste sighed exaggeratedly at the change in subject from something wonderfully pleasant to fucking irritating.
That bloody locket was an even bigger pain in the ass than she'd initially thought.
To read more, visit the link on my profile. The username is KyleVirex everywhere, so that would help out too, I guess. Thanks!