Harry Potter and the Price of Being Noble

Harry helps Fleur in the second task of GOF and pays the price. HP/Fleur/Gabrielle/Hermione. A Veela bonding fic based on love. T Rated and it will stay that way. Thirteen year old Almost fourteen Gabrielle to start the story. Good Dumbledore.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5403795/1/Harry-Potter-and-the-Price-of-Being-Noble

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2. Chapter 2 Fleur

Fleur sighed as she looked at the empty bowl of bouillabaisse that Marie had just handed to her. She knew Marie, a fellow Beauxbatons student, had taken the rest of it because she knew it was one of Fleur's favorite dishes; one that reminded her of home. Several of her fellow students had purposely put many of the overly heavy English food directly in front of her. "IT'S NOT MY FAULT!" she mentally screamed at the young women. "I don't ask that your boyfriends stare at me. Do you really think I like being looked at like a piece of meat? Do you think I like those idiots drooling because they can't handle my allure."

Fleur's eyes wandered the Great Hall of Hogwarts. She didn't pay much attention to the crowd of young teens at the table next to them but she did notice the full bowl of bouillabaisse that sat beside them. She rose from her seat and made her way to that table.

"Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?" Fleur asked the students.

Her eyes almost rolled in disgust as a red-haired boy did what most boys did when caught in her natural allure. She watched as his mouth dropped open and his face turned purple. She looked away when she saw the food he'd just shoveled into his mouth was now clearly visible. As she turned, the boy next to the red-head also turned and for the first time Fleur found herself mesmerized.

The boy had messy black hair, but it was his eyes, eyes of deep emerald green, that almost called to the young Veela. It took a second for her to realize the young man also wasn't acting as most boys did around her allure. He didn't even seem to notice her beauty at all. He just pushed the bowl of bouillabaisse toward her as he said. "Yeah, have it," before he turned back away.

She smirked at the other Beauxbatons students as she sat her claimed culinary treasure in front of her plate and started dishing it into a bowl. As she dipped her spoon into her stew she couldn't help but look back over at the young man with the green eyes. All through the meal, she found her eyes wandering back in his direction.

"If he were just a couple of years older," She mused and then stopped herself. But though she tried to shake those thoughts out of her mind, they kept returning as his green eyes reflected in her mind. "Those eyes are almost magical," She thought.

Finally curiosity got the better of her and she turned to a black cloaked Hogwarts' student. "Excusez-moi, but I wish to thank zat young man for giving me zis stew, can you tell me who 'e ees?" She pointed toward the green-eyed boy.

"Who? Oh the one with black hair?"

"Oui."

"That's Harry Potter. You know The-Boy-Who-Lived."

"Zat's 'Arry Potter?" Fleur gasped in amazement. She should have known of course. Her younger sister, Gabrielle, had a huge crush on the boy. Her room was littered with posters and newspaper clippings of the boy and even owned every book ever written about him. Fleur had often teased her about it, but Gabrielle was unashamed of her fantasies she had built about the young man. Fleur only teased her lightly because she knew it was something to help Gabrielle get though the period in her life that was so difficult for a Veela. One Fleur remembered all too well.

The Ravenclaw shrugged and nodded.

"Thank you," Fleur replied. "Gabrielle won't believe me," Fleur thought with a chuckle. "I'll have to write her and tell her I spoke with her fantasy beau."

The next evening she again sat at the same table awaiting for the results from the Goblet of Fire. She was hopeful and excited about the possibility of being her school's representative. The same eagerness she'd had for the last few weeks. As everyone waited she couldn't help but look around for Harry Potter. She'd already written her sister the night before to tell her that she'd spoken to her future husband.

"Yes I asked him if he wanted the Bouillabaisse and he told me I could have it," Fleur had joked to her sister in the letter. "I don't think you better plan on serving it at your wedding. He didn't seem to like it."

Lost in her thoughts of Gabrielle, she almost missed the Goblet spit out the first name.

"The champion for Durmstrang," The Hogwarts' Headmaster read in loud voice, "will be Viktor Krum."

Fleur joined in the applause and cheering for the Durmstrang Champion. But again her eyes swept toward the black-haired young man with the emerald green eyes. Just as her eyes made it to him, the red-headed boy next to him yelled. "No surprises there!" Fleur thought she saw a bit of food fall out of the boy's mouth but she wasn't certain. Still she looked away.

Finally the cheering and applause faded away and everyone's eyes had returned to the Goblet of Fire. A few seconds passed before another parchment was sent in the air, propelled by the red flames. Fleur held her breath, not daring to hope or breath as she wondered if this would be the Beauxbatons one.

"The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour."

At those words Fleur released her breath and looked around before rising gracefully to her feet. She heard several unkind words shed by some of her fellow students while others were literally in tears. Around the room applause had broken out again, but through the sounds she heard that voice again, one that had only said three words to her before.

"It's her, Ron!"

Fleur didn't look as she wanted. She kept her gaze firmly on the front of the Hall. She swept back her hair and walked toward the Head Table and the room they were told to enter. It was strange; though she could hear the applause, the room also felt deathly quiet as she made the journey. She could hear her own heartbeat and every breath she took. She took a deep breath as she tried to calm herself. "I can do this," She thought. "I will do this. I will be the best champion I can be. I owe it to my family and my school," Finally she found the door was in front of her. She opened it and stepped inside.

As the door to the room closed behind her she saw Viktor was pacing on the other side. He glanced up at her but spoke no words, only returned to his pacing while staring at the floor. A minute later the door opened once again and a handsome kind faced young man wearing the black robes of Hogwarts trimmed in yellow entered the room.

"Hello. I'm Cedric, Cedric Diggory," The young man said. Fleur could see he was fighting her allure, but held no ill will in his eyes.

"I'm Fleur, Fleur Delacour," She replied with a smile.

"Well have any idea on what they have planned for us?"

Fleur shook her head. "Non, Madam Maxime said it will be dangerous zough."

By then Krum had walked over to them and they all stood in front of the fire. "Karkarov said the same thing," he added.

They lapsed into silence. Each of them thinking what dangers, what challenges would lie ahead of them. Fleur imagined hoisting the Triwizard Cup up in the air in triumph as she was declared the winner. Shortly into those musings the door once again opened. The noise broke Fleur's thoughts, she turned and stopped. Harry Potter had come into the room and was just standing there staring nervously at them.

"What is eet?" Fleur asked. "Do zey want us back in ze 'all?" Obviously the Hogwarts' Headmaster had sent his most famous pupil to deliver a message.

Harry Potter didn't say a word, he just stood there looking around nervously. Again the door opened and this time the person who had been identified earlier as Ludo Bagman entered the room.

"Extraordinary!" Bagman said as he took Harry's arm. "Absolutely extraordinary!" Gentlemen...lady, may I introduce - incredible though it may seem - the fourth Triwizard champion?"

Fleur smiled at the joke. "Oh vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman," She said.

"Joke?" Bagman asked. "No, no not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"

"WHAT!" Fleur thought. The dangers of the Triwizard tournament had been stressed when Madam Maxime had made the announcement and asked for volunteers to travel to Hogwarts as possible champions. Champions had died she said. "But evidently zair 'as been a mistake," she said contemptuously to Bagman. "E cannot compete. 'E is too young."

The door opened again and this time several people entered including the Hogwarts' Headmaster, Madam Maxime, Durmstrang's Headmaster, A ministry employee named Crouch, an older woman with glasses and a greasy haired man.

Fleur immediate protested to her Headmistress. There was no way they could be serious in letting someone as young as Harry in the tournament. "Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!" Fleur remembered that Harry was only a year older than her sister, and to Fleur, Gabrielle was definitely a little girl.

When she said the words to Madam Maxime, Fleur had turned to point at Harry and she saw the anger that passed through those green eyes. It was a look she had not expected and definitely not the look of a little boy.

For a while the Headmasters and judges argued. When Harry had been asked pointedly, he denied putting his name in the Goblet.

"I hate to have to tell Gabrielle her crush is a liar and a cheat," Thought Fleur, suddenly saddened. "I wish I hadn't sent the letter last night now."

Lost in thought of her letter to her sister, Fleur missed the entry of a gnarled old man. Only the tapping of his wooden leg on the floor brought her concentration back to the room.

"If anyone's got a reason to complain, it's Potter," the gnarled man said. "but...funny thing...I don't hear him saying a word."

It was the stress, Fleur later would admit that caused her outburst. She wanted to be champion and she'd just dreamed of winning the Triwizard and now instead of two other competitors she would have to face three. Besides if he did cheat to get in, it wasn't fair. "Why should'e complain?" She exclaimed. "E 'as ze chance to compete, asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze 'onor for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money - zis is a chance many would die for!" Fleur knew that the thousand galleons didn't mean that much. Her family was very well off, but to earn it in victory would mean a lot to her.

The next words from the man named Moody's mouth startled Fleur. "Maybe someone's hoping Potter is going to die for it," She glanced over at the young man who seemed...what? determined? "Yes, that's it," She realized. His eyes held a gleam of determination but none of fear.

"Yes he must have cheated," She thought. "If I was told I was forced to be in this contest at fifteen by trickery, I would be terrified, but he is not really upset," Fleur sighed as again she thought of another letter to her sister.

More arguments occurred, but to no avail. Harry Potter must compete it was decided. After the initial instructions were given, Madam Maxime led Fleur out of the room. All the way back to the carriage, she was lost in her thoughts about the competition and about Harry Potter.

She never could bring herself to write that letter to her sister. Though Gabrielle had replied quickly asking about Harry, she only wrote back about the castle and what was happening.

Fleur rarely thought of the black-haired young man outside of the questions by her sister. She saw him around the castle every so often but he was with his friends and never seemed to see her. Over the next couple of weeks, Fleur became friends with Cedric. On occasion he'd invite her into the Hufflepuff dorms. The students in that house respected her and though some of them would fall under her allure, their friends would pull them away when it happened.

It wasn't until the weighing of the wands that Fleur actually came in contact with Harry again.

"Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?" said Mr. Ollivander. Fleur strolled gracefully to the wandmaker and handed him her wand.

"Hmm..." he said as he twirled it in his hand causing it to shoot out pink and gold sparks. He stopped then and examined it closely.

"Yes," he said quietly, "nine and a half inches. . . inflexible.. rosewood.. . and containing. . . dear me. . ."

"An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela," Fleur said proudly. "One of my grandmuzzer's."

"Yes," said Mr. Ollivander, "yes, I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands...however, to each his own, and if this suits you.."

Fleur was proud of her Veela heritage. Though she disliked some of the things that came with being Veela, she was not ashamed to be called one. Her grandmother was a proud full Veela that had introduced her granddaughter to the world of her ancestors. She had taken Fleur under her wing. When it had came time for Fleur to get her wand, it was with great pride she carried the hair that her Grandmother had given her to the local wandmaker to be the core of her wand. She almost felt her grandmother's presence when the wandmaker had offered her the wand to try. Now every time she used it, she felt a bit of her Grandmother was there helping her. The wand suited her, it fit her and the magic she produced with it was her.

Now Fleur had to fight down her temper. She felt the wandmaker had just insulted her Grandmother and her heritage. As he handed the wand back to her, she tried to maintain her grace and even forced a smiled at Cedric as she took her seat.

A movement caught her eye as Cedric was getting his wand examined. She turned to see Harry trying to polish his wand. She glared at him, mostly from her bad mood, but some part of it was for her sister. Fleur felt like he'd betrayed Gabrielle in some way by cheating his way into the tournament.

As the minutes passed Fleur's temper faded. Soon they were required to pose for pictures. She couldn't help but notice how the photographer kept manhandling Harry into the pictures even as he tried to avoid them. She could see he didn't want to be there. "Could he have been telling the truth?" She asked herself. "Could he really not want to be in the tournament?"

That question stayed with her all during the night, but the next morning's Daily Prophet confused her. Cedric's picture was no where to be found in the article about the Champions and the tournament. The story went so far as to suggest Harry was the only Hogwarts' champion. When she finally laid the paper aside, she wondered if the publicity was somehow his doing. "Is he really a vainglorious person?" Soon though thoughts of the Harry Potter died away.

Days passed quickly for Fleur. Not only was she taking a full load of classes, but she was trying to prepare herself what whatever 'testing their daring' might mean. She was confidant in her abilities though and felt she was ready for any challenges.

All of that changed two days before the event was to occur when Madam Maxime burst into her room.

"I have news." Madam Maxime said in french. Her voice was wrought with excitement laced with concern.

"What is it?" Fleur asked.

"I know what your first task is to be."

That caught Fleur's attention and then she noticed the concern in Madam Maxime's face. A feeling of dread filled her. She knew her Headmistress was as strong as a person could be and if the task concerned her, it was surely not something Fleur was going to like. "What? How?"

"Never mind how, but you will be facing Dragons. You'll need to get past a dragon."

"Dragons?" Fleur gasped.

"Yes dragons," Madam Maxime repeated. "Now it is late and I suggest you get some sleep. We'll discuss it further in the morning."

Sleep would come easily to Fleur that night. All she could think was "Dragons? And this is the FIRST event? What have I got myself into?"

Deep into the night Fleur wrestled with thoughts of coming face to face with a dragon. Sometime later her thoughts turned to an emerald-eyed young man. "How can they let Harry Potter go against dragons? He is much too young," Though at the moment, she didn't feel old enough to face one herself.

Book after book she read about dragons the next two days. She studied the strengths and weaknesses of each of the four kind Madam Maxime had seen. Unfortunately though the former were numerous, there were very few of the latter.

Those two days passed much too quickly for Fleur. Before she knew it, she was standing in front of her mirror in her room staring nervously at herself. Though she wanted to be confident and tried to portray that to everyone she met, she knew truthfully she was terrified. The previous night she'd awakened from a nightmare of being chased by the Horntail dragon.

On the long walk to the Dragon arena, Fleur reviewed her strategy. The Veela part of her magic made her persuasive charms more effective and she'd based her hopes on those charms. As she neared the entry to the tent, she summoned her courage and entered.

A short time later it was with a badly shaking hand that Fleur reached into the bag offered by Ludo Bagman. It took a couple of tries to make her fingers work sufficiently enough to grasp one of the squirming creatures inside of it. It was only a small sense of relief when she saw it was the Welsh Green. "At least it isn't the Horntail," She thought as she remembered the nightmare of the previous night.

Fleur watched as each of the other Champions pulled out their own dragon. When Cedric Diggory pulled out the Swedish Shortsnout after Krum had found himself with the Chinese Fireball, Fleur knew what was left. She could see from the look on Harry's face he knew what was left in the bag as well. When he reached into the bag and pulled out the Hungarian Horntail, Fleur was shocked to see no hint of panic in his eyes.

"Who is this boy?" She had asked herself. "Doesn't he know the danger he has to face?" The only thing she saw currently was determination.

The commentary provided by Bagman didn't help Fleur. As each thing was said by the announcer, Fleur envisioned the battle. A rampaging dragon attacking with claw and fire against Cedric. As the minutes continued, the pit in her stomach grew larger and larger. Then the crowd roared and Fleur knew Cedric had succeeded. That also meant it was her turn.

Fleur was trembling from head to foot as she thought of what was ahead of her. She briefly considered withdrawing, but she quickly discarded the idea. She knew she had to go out and do her best. She would not let her family, nor her school down. She tried to swallow but found her mouth to dry to accomplish that minor task. Knowing her name was about to be called she glanced around to the other Champions to keep her mind off of what was outside.

She first looked at Krum and found he had a surely look on his face as he stared at the ground. Then her gaze moved to Harry. There she found those green eyes looking back at her. Though the contact was only for a second, she saw something unexpected in the depth of his emerald eyes. "Is that concern in his eyes? For me?" She had to ask herself. There was something else that had appeared on his face at the same time. A smile. A smile that seemed to say, "Be careful and good luck," Fleur felt a warmth spread throughout her and her fear subsided. Harry never saw the small smile that crossed Fleur's face after he had turned away. Fleur lifted her head up high and followed the path to the Arena, ready to face the challenges ahead of her.

On the walk to the Arena, Fleur had only a small amount of time to reflect on the smile and look of concern Harry Potter had given her. She found herself confused, especially why she felt comforted and warmed by the small gesture from him. Her contemplation ended quickly when her full attention was taken by the sight of the fully grown Welsh Green Dragon standing guard over the clutch of eggs.

"Well there is the egg," Fleur thought as she looked at her dragon. The golden egg was glinting in the sunshine as it laid amidst the other eggs. "Now I just need to get closer," She knew for her spell to even have a chance, she'd have to be well within the flame breathing distance of the dragon.

A levitation charm on a rock sent it clamoring against other rocks to the left of the dragon. The dragon whipped its neck around at the sound. Fleur quickly dashed to a pile of rocks closer to the dragon. There she paused and waited. She continued this pattern until she felt she was close enough.

"Maximus Somnus," she called out as she stepped out from behind the rock she currently was hiding behind. The overpowered sleeping charm hit the dragon in the head. The dragon wavered and a single eyelid drooped, but the dragon itself remained standing. Fleur's shout had caught the dragon's attention. A jet of white hot fire streamed out of the dragon's mouth directly at Fleur. A gasp rose from the stands as Fleur managed to dive behind her cover just in time. Crouching behind her shelter, she again waited. Sweat beaded on her body from heat of the air and rocks around her. Fleur could almost feel the dragon's eyes staring at her hiding location, waiting for her to show herself again.

She sent another rock zooming out from behind the rock pile and as she hoped, the dragon followed it's path, as soon as the dragon was distracted Fleur dove out from the other side of the rocks. Again she shouted the words to invoke the charm and again the dragon wavered but still it did not fall. As she watched the dragon's head turn back toward her, Fleur, in desperation, cast the spell once more and prepared to dive back behind her rock. This time the eyes of the dragon closed as it fell to its knees and then with a heavy crash, to the ground.

A feeling of relief swept through Fleur as the dragon collapsed. She watched it for a minute before she started to creep toward the nest of eggs beside the dragon. Foot by foot she moved, always keeping a watch on the eyes of the Welsh Green in case it started to awaken.

Fleur was sweating nervously as she edged around the snout of the dragon. She could feel its hot putrid breath across her body. She'd just began to feel more confident that she was going to complete the task when the dragon let out a mighty snore of sound and fire. Though Fleur instantly leapt, ducked and rolled away, her skirt was ignited. Quietly she extinguished the flames and with no further hesitation she grabbed the golden egg from the nest and dashed away.

"Very well done Fleur," Madam Maxime called in french. "Are you injured?"

"No Headmistress," Fleur replied.

"You still need to come with me," A middle-aged witch who wore the uniform of a healer said. "I'm Madam Pomfrey the school nurse and I need to check you over."

"I'm fine, I assure you," Fleur replied. But though she argued, it was to no avail, she finally gave up and followed the nurse to the medical tent for a thorough check over.

It seemed to take forever for the Healer to check her for any unseen burns or other injuries, but finally she said. "Well Miss Delacour, it appears you are just fine. Maybe you should lie down for a while just to make sure..."

"Non," Fleur cried out. "I want to go see 'a...I mean ze ozzer champions," She desperately wanted to see Harry go against the Horntail.

"Very well," Pomfrey said. "If you do wish to return you're more than welcome to do so."

"Thank you," Fleur replied as she dashed out of the tent still holding her egg. By the time she made it back to the arena and found a seat Krum had just blinded his dragon. Fleur watched in horror as the dragon destroyed most of her own eggs but was glad Krum had not gotten injured.

Because of the damaged eggs, it took a while to settle the Chinese Fireball down and get her out of the arena. It took just as long to get the ferocious Horntail in position. Even the handlers who worked with it every day didn't want to get any closer than they had to. Finally when it was all settled, Bagman called for Harry to enter the arena.

The noise of the crowd reached a zenith as Fleur watched the young man enter. She swallowed hard as she looked from champion to dragon. Harry looked so small and the Hungarian Horntail looked to large and vicious with its yellow eyes, furled wings and smoke escaping from the sides of its mouth.

Again Fleur swallowed as she waited. Harry raised his wand and yelled something that was lost in the wind. Fleur glanced around quickly trying to find out what he had done, but she could see nothing as Harry stood still. A sudden sinking feeling spread inside of her. "I knew he was too young. He doesn't know what to do or how to do what he wanted," she thought. "I hope he doesn't do anything stupid."

Suddenly a whistling sound cut through the noise of the crowd. Fleur was still focused on Harry when a broom came hurdling into the arena and stopped next to him. She watched the young man climb on the broom and in an instant, Fleur Delacour witnessed a miraculous thing; Harry Potter on a broom. Her father had taken her and her sister to international Quidditch matches before including the World Cup the previous summer, but she'd never seen such flying, especially against such an opponent as a Hungarian Horntail.

She watched in astonishment as Harry dove and weaved around the dragon with ease. Once he flew very near her seat and she was able to catch a glimpse of his face. Where she expected to see fear, she saw excitement; his eyes seemed to be dancing with fun. Fleur couldn't say why she was so concerned about Harry, but that she was came very apparent when a scream almost escaped her throat when the dragon's tail grazed him and a long cut appeared on the young man's shoulder.

"How does he keep flying?" She asked herself in amazement. "He doesn't even seem to notice the injury," Again Harry was ducking and weaving, drawing the dragon's attention, until he suddenly reversed course and swooped past the dragon, scooping the golden egg from the pile and pulling up in triumph.

Fleur's cheers were among the loudest as she cried out in glee at Harry's performance. She was also among the loudest to voice their displeasure at the score given to Harry by Durmstrang's Headmaster.

Fleur wrote to her sister weekly if not more often. Gabrielle was everything to the Beauxbatons Champion. She knew the pains of loneliness her sister felt as she watched her friends abandon her as her body had ceased to mature four years earlier. That part of the Veela heritage was cruel but it developed because of survival needs of the Veela race long before modern social pressures developed.

Despite the questions from her sister, Fleur always sidestepped the subject of Harry Potter after the original letter. She'd talk about Hogwarts and how cold it was there compared to southern France. She'd describe the various foods the English seemed to enjoy compared to the fare normally served at Beauxbatons, anything and everything but Harry Potter. She'd of course told her sister about Harry being selected as Champion but had never been able to bring herself to accuse him of cheating to enter the tournament. Now Fleur was thankful she hadn't. For some reason she now believed him.

The evening of the first task saw another quill in the Beauxbatons champion's hand as she penned another letter to Gabrielle. This time she did not sidestep the enigma of Harry Potter, but met it full on as she described his incredible flying against the nastiest dragon. She told her sister of the unjust scoring by Karkarov which prevented Harry from winning the event outright as he should have. Those quill stokes were firm as she felt a return of the indignation at the Durmstrang Headmaster. It never occurred to her, that had Harry gotten more points it would have been harder for her to win the tournament.

The return letter arrived a few days later. Gabrielle was excited about Harry's performance and the questions returned about her crush. This time Fleur decided she'd try to get answers for her sister. In this pursuit she found herself talking to Cedric Diggory.

"Why do you want to know about Harry?" Cedric responded to her question.

"Eet's my sister. She 'as a crush on ze Boy-Who-Lived and 'as been asking about 'im," Fleur explained.

Cedric grinned. "So not for yourself?"

"Non," Fleur replied a little quicker than she liked. She then produced her sister's letter and interpreted the french to her friend.

"Okay, what can I tell you then," Cedric said. "How about his first year. you know what a philosopher's stone is right?"

Fleur nodded. "Flammel 'as one supposedly."

"Not anymore, at least that's what I heard," Cedric told her. "The story goes like this, Flammel asked Dumbledore to protect the stone because he thought someone was trying to steal it. Well supposedly the Headmaster hid it here in the castle."

"Ere? In a place filled with children?" Fleur asked incredulously. "Wouldn't zat be dangerous if someone was trying to steal eet?"

"Yeah, well Harry and his friend thought someone was trying to steal it one night when Dumbledore was away. They made it through all of the traps set by the Headmaster and the other professors and finally Harry took on a Professor who was supposedly possessed by the Dark Lord himself and won. It was all over the school the next day."

""Oh là là," Fleur exclaimed. "Zat's just...just impossible."

"Maybe, but it's what the rumors were and.." Cedric shrugged, "he was in the hospital wing several days. The Headmaster also gave him and his friends over one hundred and fifty house points, and the Professor who was supposedly possessed died that night so something happened."

"Sounds like one of ze books about 'im."

"Maybe, but if you want to talk about something out of a book, that was his second year."

"What 'appened zen?"

"We had a lot of people getting petrified," Cedric explained. "Even a ghost."

"But...'ow do you petrify a ghost?" Fleur asked incredulously.

"We found out later, but at the original petrification there was a message about heir of Slytherin and the Chamber of Secrets."

"What is zis Chamber of Secrets?" Fleur asked.

"Well Slytherin, he's one of the four founders of this school, Salazar Slytherin created a chamber that was his own. It was thought to be just a rumor since many people had searched for it and never found it. There was even supposedly a monster in it."

"A monster?" Fleur scoffed.

"Yeah well anyway, during the year we found out that Harry was a parselmouth. A lot of people, including many from Hufflepuff thought that meant Harry was the heir of Slytherin because talking to snakes was one of his biggest things."

"So everyone thought 'Arry was responsible?"

"Yeah, but then one of his friends was petrified as well."

"So what 'appened? What was petrifying people?"

"Well, again it's only rumors but it all fits. A basilisk was the monster in the Chamber of Secrets and when another person was captured and taken into it, Harry found the Chamber and single-handedly slew the basilisk."

"A Basilisk? You're telling me a twelve or zirteen year old boy killed a Basilisk," Again Fleur snorted.

"Ginny Weasley, that's the girl who was taken into the Chamber was rescued and though she won't say what happened, she confirmed that Harry rescued her."

Later that evening she was telling her Headmistress the ridiculous stories that Harry had supposedly done, when the half-giant woman stopped her.

"Fleur, Dumbledore and I spoke after Mr. Potter's name came out of the cup," Madam Maxime explained. "As you know the dangers of the tournament are great, and I was concerned about the boy's safety as well as hoping to find a way to get him out of the competition," The last she said with a knowing nod. "He told me similar stories and actually..." She paused, "Potter did kill the Basilisk and he did it without a wand."

Fleur was stunned. "But...it can't be, he was but thirteen?"

"Twelve actually, but yet it is true."

"How did he kill it then?"

"With a sword. It's actually hanging in Dumbledore's office. The sword I mean."

"A sword? Are you sure it's not another story? It sounds so...so incredible."

"Yes it does doesn't? Know what else he can do? Last year they had Dementors around Hogwarts and they seemed to be drawn to Mr. Potter."

"Dementors? At this school?"

"Yes, and Mr. Potter it seems is a pretty good Quidditch player, seeker."

"He flies well enough," Fleur replied.

"That he does. But last year, according to Dumbledore, Mr. Potter was concerned the Dementors would attack him while he played Quidditch. They had done so earlier in the year. So he learned to do a fully corporal Patronus."

"NO!" Fleur exclaimed. "It is not possible. I can not even do one."

"It was seen by many students at a Quidditch game," Olympe replied.

Fleur sat stunned at the revelations from her Headmistress. Finally she had to ask. "But if he did all of this, why was it not in the papers? A Basilisk being killed should be international news."

"You tell me?" Maxime asked. "Tell me why Mr. Potter didn't take his feats to the newspapers?"

Fleur only had one answer. "He...he doesn't want it known?"

"Actually he doesn't care. He wants neither fame nor acknowledgment."

"But..." Fleur started but fell silent as she remembered how Harry tried to stay out of the pictures at the weighing of the wand.

"I'll tell you something else that might interest you because of your heritage. The boy has no biases, no bigotry."

"How do you know this?" Fleur asked.

"There is a man who Harry considers to be almost an uncle to him that is a werewolf, he personally knows a centaur, has risked his life to free an abused house-elf and he even went to a ghost's death-day party," Maxime explained. "How many British wizards would you think would do that?"

For a brief instant, Fleur envisioned herself on the arm of the young man, but quickly shook it off. "He is much too young," She convinced herself.

That night and many other nights Fleur's quill scratched out several pages of letters to her sister telling her of her crush's adventures. During many of those letters, she had to pause to shake away thoughts of those green eyes.

Once the Yule Ball was announced, it seemed like every young man who came near her ended up befuddled and asked her to the Yule Ball as they drooled on their own cloaks. Of course as they asked most were either looking at her nicely shaped bosom or the ground.

"Cedric, is zere a single person 'ere zat I can go to ze ball with?" She'd asked her friend. She had hope Cedric might consider asking to go as friends, but she'd learned he'd asked a young black-haired girl named Cho Chang.

"Well Roger Davies, he's a prefect in Ravenclaw, asked me if you were going with anyone," Cedric replied. "I didn't want to play go between but he's a pretty good bloke. I've never heard a bad thing about him."

"Zen take me to 'im and I'll see if 'e is interested," Fleur replied. A short time later, the Beauxbatons champion had her escort to the Ball but from the look in Davies eyes when he looked at her, she wasn't sure it had been the right choice.

At the Yule Ball itself, it became readily apparent that it had been a mistake. Roger Davies couldn't keep his eyes off her body. As she ignored her date's open mouth as the Champions gathered she took a moment to look at the green-eyed wizard she'd written so much about to Gabrielle. It surprised her to feel a bit of jealously at the young attractive witch on his arm. For a second their eyes met again, but as he quickly looked away she thought. "He's definitely cute and so innocent. If he were just a couple of years older," The vision of herself on his arm flashed through her mind again. This time it included dancing the night away staring into his emerald eyes. She had to shake her head to clear it.

She really couldn't blame Davies, but it didn't sooth her irritation at him. His inability to keep the drool from his mouth kept her in a temper most of the evening, causing her to criticize almost everything she saw. Finally the meal was over and the dancing began. As Davies led her to the dance floor, she found her eyes wandering in search of the ebony-haired wizard. She smiled when she found him dancing, especially at who was leading the dance. Again her mind wondered what it would be like to be in his arms. To have those emerald eyes looking into hers for more than a second.

"Fleur, would you like a stroll in the gardens?" Davies asked later in the evening.

Fleur inwardly sighed. She knew what to expect. She knew he'd start by walking with her and after a few minutes he'd guide her to some secluded place and try to kiss her. "Oui," She replied with a shrug. It was only polite to accept the invitation. She would allow the man to kiss her, but she was already firm in her mind that would be as far as it would go.

Fleur almost laughed at the predictability of Davies when he guided her behind a rosebush a few minutes later.

"Fleur..." Davies started with still no eye contact. He lift his head and leaned forward trying to initiate a kiss. The next second a disturbance arose nearby. She heard the voice of her Headmistress.

"Ow dare you!" Madam Maxime's voice cut through the garden. She continued yelling but the rest was not so easily heard.

Fleur was worried that she was yelling at her and quickly stumbled back into the pathway. Looking around she saw Madame Maxime stomping away from the large man she knew was a professor called Hagrid.

"My apologies Roger," Fleur said taking an opportunity to end the date. "I must see what is wrong with Madame Maxime. Thank you for ze wonderful evening," Before he could reply, she had hurried away. Later she heard the rumors that Roger had told everyone that he and Fleur had spent an hour behind that bush snogging while he had copped a few feels along the way.

** E E **

"Aving any luck wiz your egg?" Fleur asked Cedric one day. She'd spent days trying to discover it's secrets but the wailing had just given her a headache.

"Now Fleur, I can't go giving away Hogwarts secrets now can I?"

Fleur laughed but the laugh died away as another young man suddenly turned purple as he stared at her.

"What's it like?" Cedric asked when he saw the look on her face. "This power of yours that does that?"

"I 'ate it," Fleur replied honestly. "But it..eet allows Veela to captivate men."

"I'm glad it doesn't work on me," Cedric replied. "At least not for a while."

"Zat is my natural allure," Fleur explained. "If I wanted I could captivate you, but it's something I dislike."

"Really? You really think you can make me be like him?" He nodded at the latest victim of her allure.

"Oui."

"You could make me reveal my darkest secrets as I become a mindless idiot?" He asked in mirth.

Fleur rolled her eyes but nodded. "Oui Cedric but..."

"Prove it!" Cedric challenged. He nodded at her egg and said. "I know the next clue, see if you can get it out of me."

"Are you serious?" Fleur asked.

"Yeah, come on," He pulled her along until there were in an empty classroom and closed the door. "There, no one will bother us."

"Are you really sure about zis?"

"I don't think you can do it."

Fleur smiled and looked Cedric in the eyes and radiated her allure.

Cedric suddenly felt like he was floating while at the same time Fleur seemed to glow brighter than the sun. Suddenly he was back staring at Fleur. "Didn't work did it?" He asked with a smirk.

"I'll 'ear what ze egg says if I 'old it under ze water," She replied with a warm smile.

Diggory's mouth dropped. "But I...I didn't tell you, did I?" He asked disbelievingly, then realizing that he had, he shook his head. "I didn't do anything else...well foolish did I?"

"Non, well nothing zat would make me think less of you anyway," Fleur answered with a smirk.

"Great," Cedric sighed. "Well that at least makes three of us who the egg's secret, I told Harry also."

"Why did you do zat?" Fleur asked with genuine curiosity.

"It was only fair. He was the one who told me about the dragons, damn glad he did too," Cedric explained. "There would've been no way for me to have finished that."

"Why did 'e tell you about ze dragons? Seems to be it would have been to 'is advantage to not tell you," Fleur asked in confusion.

"Well that's Harry for you, he seemed to think you and Viktor knew about them already and he said he only thought it was fair for me to know."

Another letter was soon on the way to Fleur's sister. She'd already described the Yule Ball to her, especially Harry. She described how handsome he'd been, and how he seemed to not to like to dance. Now this letter described another facet of the enigma that was Harry Potter.

She long ago decided Harry had not cheated to get into the tournament, but now when she saw him she often wondered who did it, and why they would.

A return letter from her sister shocked Fleur, but not unpleasantly. It seemed Gabrielle had discovered their Papa was coming to watch the second event and she'd begged and pleaded with him to bring her as well. Her father also knew of his girl's crush on Harry Potter and knew this might be a once in a lifetime chance for her to meet him. As with all fathers who have a pleading daughter, he gave in and agreed to bring her.

"Come seek us where our voices sound,
We cannot sing above the ground,
And while you're searching, ponder this:
We've taken what you'll sorely miss,
An hour long you'll have to look,
And to recover what we took,
But past an hour- the prospect's black,
Too late, it's gone, it won't come back"

"Of course it is mermish so it's merpeople," Fleur thought as she listened to the golden egg under the water. "The only place they could be at Hogwarts is the lake. But what would I sorely miss?"

Finding the bubblehead charm wasn't too difficult, though she was concerned about two things, the first being the charm only lasted about one hour so she couldn't go over the time limit and the other was being part Veela, a creature of fire, her magical abilities would be greatly diminished underwater.

"Gabrielle!" Fleur exclaimed as her sister skipped over to her. It was February twenty-third and the day before the second task was to begin.

"Where's Harry Potter?" Gabrielle asked after she gave her older sister a hug.

"You have a one track mind don't you?" Fleur laughed. It was good to see her sister. Especially after the conversation she'd just had with the Hogwarts' Headmaster. "What business did he have in wanting to know what my relationship with Roger Davies was?" She thought trying to suppress her anger. "Well I let him know in no uncertain terms that there was no relationship," In fact she hadn't bothered to even look at Davies since the Yule Ball.

"Yes," Gabrielle admitted. "So where is he?"

"I don't know," Fleur admitted. "But I will introduce you tomorrow if you do not see him today."

Gabrielle beamed.

"Now how about I show you around Hogwarts."

"Maybe I'll see Harry?"

"Maybe," Fleur laughed.

It was late in the evening after Fleur had retired that Madam Maxime had approached Gabrielle and her father. "Alain, would it be possible for you and Gabrielle to come with me to see the Hogwarts Headmaster?"

"Of course, but why?"

Olympe sighed. "Fleur has not really built a relationship with anyone here, and this next event will require a hostage for her to rescue."

"A hostage?" Alain suddenly looked worried.

"Someone she cares enough about so she won't give up," Maxime explained. "There are no dangers. The hostage will be put in a deep sleep and will not awaken until they are back on the surface of the lake."

"Surface? They will be under water?" Alain Delacour asked.

"Yes."

Alain nodded with a hint of concern but continued. "So what do you you and the Hogwarts Headmaster want?"

"Gabrielle. We want her to be Fleur's hostage."

"Oh Papa, PLEASE!" Gabrielle exclaimed. "I'll not only get to see Harry, I'll be in it with him. PLEASE!"

Alain looked at Olympe. "Are you sure it's safe?"

"Yes, I've looked over the safeguards and I feel they are sufficient."

Mr. Delacour looked at his daughter who was almost bouncing up and down on her seat. He nodded. "Lets go talk to Dumbledore."

"THANK YOU PAPA!" Gabrielle exclaimed again and threw her arms around her father.

Fleur had gone to bed early but tossed and turned the whole night. She still did not know what the thing she had to recover was. She was surprised though when only her father was waiting for her for breakfast.

"Where's Gabrielle," Fleur asked.

"She's...busy." Alain replied with a hint of concern.

"Is she alright?"

"I hope so," Her father responded but would say no more.

After breakfast, her father escorted her to the lake.

"If the contestants will gather at the judges table," Ludo Bagman said.

"Where's Harry?" Fleur thought as she looked around. She knew her sister would want to meet him and she had to admit, she'd like another smile before the competition.

"Now..." Ludo started, but he too was looking toward the castle in anticipation, "You have one hour to find what you will miss most. For you Mr. Krum, that would be Miss Hermione Granger."

"VAT?" Krum exclaimed, but before he could say anything else, Bagman continued.

"Miss Delacour, it is your sister Gabrielle."

"Non! Zere must be some mistake," She blurted out, but again Ludo had moved on.

"Mr. Diggory.."

"Cho?" Cedric asked already seeing a pattern and the fact Cho had not been at breakfast.

"Yes."

Cedric developed a focused but resigned look on his face.

"It won't come back!" The words echoed in her mind. "They wouldn't let anything happen to her would they?" Fleur thought but then remembered the look of worry on her father's face.

"Has anyone seen Mr..." Ludo had started but a murmur started in the crowd and all eyes turned toward the castle. "Ah there he is now," Ludo finished.

"I'm...here..." Harry panted as he stopped in the mud next to the lake splattering Fleur's robes.

Someone at the judges table asked him where he'd been, but then Bagman started separating them out.

"one…two..three…" and the whistle blew a minute later.

Fleur looked at Harry who had waded into the water without even drawing his wand, she saw him take something out of his pocket and start eating it, but she didn't have time to think of what he was doing though as she thought of Gabrielle, and quickly cast a warming spell on herself then the bubblehead charm before she dove into the water.

 
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