30 October 1994
"Good evening, Mister Potter," Minerva McGonagall said as she approached the Beauxbatons students sitting at the Ravenclaw table.
"Hello," Harry said politely.
"I am Professor McGonagall, the Hogwarts deputy headmistress. The headmaster would like to speak with you in his office."
There was a long moment of silence before Harry spoke again. "Thank you for telling me, ma'am, but I'm not allowed to speak with Professor Dumbledore unless my guardians are present. He knows this as well and I'm not sure why he would try and use you as an intermediary. I apologise for wasting your time. Have a good night," Harry replied turning to Fleur, Hermione and Lucy. "We should head back soon."
McGonagall watched despairingly as Fleur, Hermione, and Lucy followed Harry out of the castle. She had no way to force him to see Dumbledore and the boy would not meet with him voluntarily. She understood why, Dumbledore had left him with those horrid muggles. She didn't blame him for running away, she was curious how he'd made to France though. McGonagall suspected Dumbledore knew more than he was letting on.
"Are you okay?" Lucy asked as she entered Harry's room. She flopped down on Harry's bed drawing his eyes to her large jiggling breasts. Lucy shimmied her way up to rest her head in his lap.
"I guess, seeing all this makes me think about what might have happened if I'd stayed with my relatives. It makes me glad I was taken in by the Delacours. This place is fucking dreary."
"I agree. I mean, if you went to Hogwarts we'd never have met and my life would be sadder for it," Lucy agreed. "And did you see those robes? They're hideous. Black with a hint of coloured trim? Yuck. What year do they think it is?"
Harry laughed and leaned down to capture Lucy's lips. "Never change, Luce."
Lucy grinned. "Nope."
"Do you want to stay the night?" Harry asked hopefully.
"Can't, I need to be up bright and early tomorrow. If I spend the night here I'll be too exhausted to wake up early."
"You love it," Harry commented smugly.
"That's beside the point," Lucy protested smacking Harry in the chest.
Harry laughed kissing Lucy again and wrapping his arms around her. "Can you at least stay for a little while longer?"
"Okay," Lucy replied happily.
Neville pulled back the curtain of his bed and wrinkled his nose. A pile of dragon fertiliser had been spread across the mattress leaving a stench that permeated the room. He heard snickering behind him and glanced over at Ron and Cormac. Neville shook his head. "Starting early this year, Weasley."
Ron sneered at Neville. "Just a little reminder."
"When will this be over?"
"Never," Ron hissed. "You left my sister to die. I won't ever forgive you for that. I won't ever let you forget either. That senile old fuck should have thrown you out of Hogwarts after Ginny died. I don't know why he didn't but if he's not going to do anything, I will."
Neville shook his head and banished the dung from his bed and summoned an elf to remove the mattress and prepare a replacement. He glared at Ron as he shed his robe and dropped it in his trunk before locking it. "Grow up, Weasley."
Ron glared at Neville but said nothing as they finished preparing for bed. He chose to ignore the scarred boy instead returning his thoughts to the blonde with the great rack. All he had to do was splash the cash and he'd get her into bed. He'd met very few girls that didn't get all wet when he showed them how much money he had. Had he bribed some girls into bed, sure, but none of them had complained. At least not to his face.
The next day all the seventh-year students from the respective schools represented in the tournament, gathered in the Hogwarts entry hall. One by one each student submitted their names to the goblet.
Harry stood at the edge of the age line watching as the Beauxbatons girls took their turns. He gave Lucy a kiss on the lips before she submitted her name. Fleur and Hermione followed suit walking over to stand with Harry once it was done. The first Durmstrung student Harry recognised as Viktor Krum waited at the age line staring at Harry. "May I go?"
"Be my guest," Harry said.
"Are you not going to submit your name to the goblet, young Harry?" A voice asked.
There were gasps from around the hall as Dumbledore walked up beside Hermione who was standing between him and Harry. Harry gave him an unimpressed glance towards Dumbledore before replying. "Nope. I'm here to support my classmates, friends, and girlfriend. I have no interest in participating."
"What about the fame and glory? Aren't you proud of being a Beauxbatons student?" Dumbledore asked with a grandfatherly smile.
"Professor, May I ask you a question?" Harry asked as he watched the Durmstrung boys drop their names in the goblet one by one. Once they'd taken their turn they gathered around Viktor and watched the interplay between the Hogwarts Headmaster and Beauxbatons student. Everyone knew who Harry was by now and they were almost as curious as Dumbledore was to know how Harry Potter had ended up at Beauxbatons.
"Of course, young Harry."
"Who was the last champion of the tri-wizards tournament?"
Dumbledore paused. "Uh…"
"Do you know what school they represented?"
"Um… n-no…" Dumbledore admitted reticently.
"Neither can I. The only thing notable, at least notable enough to make it into the history books I read. Is that three judges were injured during the task where the champions were tasked with catching a cockatrice. Those judges were the heads of the three respective schools. I certainly hope we don't see a repeat of that this year."
"No, certainly not…" Dumbledore muttered to himself.
"Goodbye Professor Dumbledore," Harry said as he began walking towards the stairs.
"Harry, I would like to have a word with you in private," Dumbledore called out scrambling over to the stairs.
"Professor, you've been explicitly told that you are not allowed to speak to me or any other Beauxbatons student without the presence of the Headmistress and one of our guardians. This is the second time you've tried to subvert that condition of Beauxbatons being here. I already informed Madam Maxime of Professor McGonagall's approach last night and I'll be telling her about this as well." Harry paused for a beat. "If you have questions, please direct them to Madam Maxime and she'll pass them to my foster parents. Good day professor."
"Good day, young Harry," Dumbledore replied feeling the gaze of the rest of the student body upon him. He'd been warned twice now and Olympe Maxine's wrath wasn't something he wanted to incur. He needed a new plan, another way to weasel out the information he was after. Perhaps through an intermediary. One who would be here for the tournament and would do anything for a story.
Before the tournament it had been decided that both Durmstrung and Beauxbatons would take classes in the unused Hogwarts classrooms. This was intended to promote mutual bonding between the student bodies. Though there was scepticism from all sides whether this would work. Regardless the school heads persisted, despite their personal feelings on the matter.
As Harry and the rest of the Beauxbatons contingent walked to class, someone stepped out from behind a suit of armour. Ron Weasley grinned lasciviously at the girls as his eyes stuck on Lucy's breasts. "Hi ladies, I heard you're taking classes in the castle. I know this place inside and out. I'd be happy to give you a personal tour."
Harry stepped in front of Lucy, obstructing Ron's view. "A tour sounds lovely. Why don't we go now while everyone else finishes walking to class."
Ron scowled. "I wasn't inviting you."
"That's too bad, because you're not going anywhere with these ladies. They have better things to do than hang around with a lecher like you."
"You don't speak for them," Ron protested.
"He does actually. He doesn't need to, but he does," Hermione said as the other girls nodded in agreement.
"Tch, fine, it's not my fault that you don't know a better man when you see him. Just know that when you regret it later, you'll find my very accomodating. The name is Ron Weasley, you'll probably hear girls bragging about me all over the castle."
Ron sauntered away leaving the Beauxbatons students alone in the corridor. Lucy shook her head in disgust. "Somehow, I doubt that."
31 October 1994
Filch carried the goblet into the Great Hall placing it on a pedestal in front of the heads table. Dumbledore rose and launched into a speech about the prestige of the tournament and how it will launch one student into fame and glory. "Representing Durmstrung is…!"
A singed piece of paper emerged from the goblet and flew into Dumbledore's hand. "Viktor Krum!"
The quidditch star stood up and bowed to his school mates before walking through the side door Dumbledore had indicated to. Harry noted the quidditch fanatics amongst his classmates were very excited. He understood their excitement. Krum was an exceptional player. Jean had managed to secure a memory vial of the Ireland/Bulgaria final for Harry. He was suitably impressed by the skill on display.
Harry knew he wasn't at that level and probably never would be. Then again, he didn't aspire to go professional. It was flying more than playing quidditch he enjoyed. And he knew Lucy, Hermione, and Fleur would be happier to keep him on the ground. If their reaction to him getting his arm broken by an errant bludger during third year was any indication. He still felt bad for the poor guy who'd launched it at him. The boy had apologised profusely for the incident and Harry held no ill will. It was quidditch, these things happen. The girls hadn't seen it that way… Harry swore the boys still flinched whenever one of them looked at him even briefly.
"The Beauxbatons representative is… Fleur Delacour!"
The students clapped politely and more than a few of them zeroed in on Fleur's tits and ass as she walked out of the hall and into the anti-chamber. Harry scowled but remained silent. He didn't like how much attention Fleur got for her looks. Not because he was jealous but because Fleur was so much more than her looks but being a Veela it was all she ever got noticed for.
"Representing Hogwarts is… Cedric Diggory!"
Harry glanced at Hermione and Lucy who both shrugged as a tall well built handsome boy with dark hair and grey eyes stood up from the Hufflepuff table and smiled. Lucy smiled back and blushed slightly causing Harry to frown. "See something you like, Heartfilia?"
"Don't, get, jealous," Lucy admonished him, poking Harry in the chest to emphasis each word.
"Uh huh…" Harry replied, he paused when he realised the hall had gone quiet. Glancing around he realised everyone was watching at Dumbledore who was staring at the goblet expectantly.
"Albus, is something wrong?" McGonagall asked.
"Um…" Dumbledore said now glancing between the goblet and the decrepit old man sitting at the end of the heads table.
The man stared back, his magical eye wizzing around in his eye socket. "Did you need something, Albus?"
"Uh, n-no, clearly not," Dumbledore replied. "Thank you for your patience. Your champions will join you shortly."
As Dumbledore retreated into the anti chamber with the two other school heads, Harry glanced at his girlfriend and best friend. "What was that about?"
"No idea, who cares anyway. Let's get back to the carriage and set up for Fleur's party." Lucy said eagerly
Harry and Hermione smiled and nodded as the Beauxbatons students filed out. Ron watched them go, staring at Lucy lustfully. Once they were gone his mood soured as the Gryffindors trudged up the stairs to their dorm. "Fucking Diggory, first he gets made head boy over me and now he's Hogwarts champion. What makes him so fucking perfect?"
Lavender rolled her eyes, thinking of numerous things that made Cedric superior to Ron Weasley. But she kept it to herself knowing her opinion was neither sort nor appreciated.
Once Dumbledore was alone in his office he sat pondering the events of the night. Or rather the lack of events. After the events of Neville's first and second years at Hogwarts, and the reappearance of the boy-who-lived. Dumbledore had expected Tom to manipulate the situation. But nothing had happened. Neither Harry nor Neville had been forced into the tournament.
There was a sinking feeling in Dumbledore's stomach when an uncomfortable thought entered his mind. Could Tom actually be dead? Was it possible the diary was the only Horcrux Tom made and not the first of many? If that was the case then another question had to be asked.
If there were no dark lords to fight. Did the world need Albus Dumbledore?
Later once had Fleur returned to the carriage a crate of butterbeer Madam Maxime had brought from Hogsmeade was broken out. Fleur smiled as she looked around at her friends. Fleur sometimes wondered how many of the people in this room and back at Beauxbatons she would still count as friends if it weren't for Harry and Hermione.
It wasn't hard to imagine a scenario where Fleur closed herself off to everyone and put up a facade to stop anyone getting close. But Harry and Hermione had long ago melted that ice before it even had a chance to form. The two of them meant everything to Fleur. She wished she'd been more mature when she was younger and not been so cold to Harry when they were growing up. She'd been selfish and jealous of how much Hermione and Harry liked each other and had taken any opportunity to put herself between them. She loved Hermione, she didn't regret confessing to her, but she wished it hadn't come at Harry's expense.
"So, did they tell you what the first task is?" Harry asked.
"Hm? Oh, no, they didn't. All they said was that it would be a test of our daring and it would take place on the twenty fourth of November."
Hermione frowned. "A test of daring, what could they have in mind?"
13 November 1994
Fleur entered an unused classroom to find her fellow tournament participants, a photographer, and a heavily made up blonde haired woman with green eyes. Fleur smiled as she idly thought about how Lucy would freak out about the ugliness of the woman's red dress.
"Ah, wonderful, our third champion. Welcome, welcome, dear. I'm Rita Skeeter with the Daily Prophet. Do you have time for an interview?"
"Yes. Shall we use one of the desks at the back of the room?"
"Yes, excellent," Rita replies her eyes lighting up with glee as she follows Fleur to the back of the room. Rita's photographer skulks about nearby, his eyes glued to Fleur's body.
"How does it feel to be representing your school in such a prestigious tournament?"
Fleur bit her lip to stop from laughing as she recalled what Harry had said that day to Professor Dumbledore. "I am honoured, of course. I love Beauxbatons, it's been my home for seven years. I'm excited for the next phase of my life. But I can't deny there is a tinge of regret about my time coming to an end."
"What do you think of Hogwarts? Did you know much about the school before you arrived?"
"Only what I'd read in books. It's beautiful, it's a castle out of fairy tale," Fleur said adding a Grimm Fairy Tale mentally.
"I've heard from several Hogwarts students that you're close with Britains own Boy-Who-Lived. Is it a romantic connection?"
Fleur plasters a smile on her face as the penny dropped. "Arry is one of my best friends, but he's only a friend."
"Have you known each other long?"
"We've known each other for our entire school lives," Fleur says carefully. It wasn't technically a lie, they'd gone to the same school since Harry came to live with them.
"What's Harry like? There's plenty of curiosity around the Boy-Who-Lived. We know nothing about him."
"Arry is a kind and sweet boy. He's incredibly loyal and smart, he's always been near the top of our year. Anything else you'd have to ask him."
"You say you're not romantically involved, but it sounds like you're very fond of him. Could it be even though you're not his girlfriend, you'd like to be?"
Fleur's cheeks turned pink as he glanced away from Rita, spotting something that filled her with relief. "I think our time is up. Professor Dumbledore is here. I think it's time to start the wand weighing ceremony."
Later back in the carriage Fleur sort out Hermione, enveloping the brunette girl in a hug. Hermione was surprised but not upset by this development. "Fleur, are you ok?"
Fleur smiled and nodded, taking Hermione by the hand. "Oui, I'm fine. But I want you to myself tonight."
"O-ok," Hermione replied, her cheeks turning pink as she was led away to Fleur's room. As the door to Fleur's room shut a small beetle flew out of the carriage and into the night.
14 November 1994
When Hermione and Fleur arrived for breakfast the next morning, they found Harry and Lucy waiting with a copy of the Witches Weekly between them and a shared frown. Fleur's face darkened. "What happened?"
"Take a look…" Harry said dropping the paper in front of her.
The Boy-Who-Lived's Love Square
In a breathless interview with your intrepid reporter Rita Seeker. Fleur Delacour (17) champion of Beauxbatons confessed her undying devotion and heartache over the Boy-Who-Lived.
Chatting before the wand weighing ceremony Miss Delacour exclusively about her love for the Boy-Who-Lived (17). The two having met on their first day at Beauxbatons. Describing him as kind and sweet she confessed to being enchanted by his smouldering emerald eyes. A trait inherited from his mother Lily Potter.
But there is a bitter sting in this tale dear readers as Miss Delacour's hopes of claiming the heart of our absent hero were dashed. We all have that one relatives who is jealous of us, who despises our successes. That someone in Miss Delacour's family is none other than her cousin, Lucy Heartfilia. The alleged beauty stole our heroes heart away from Miss Delacour before she could confess her deepest feelings to our raven haired warrior.
The lovely Miss Delacour has had to suffice herself with the equally beautiful Hermione Granger (17). A bright and spunky fellow seventh year at Beauxbatons. While it's clear the two are very close nothing can compare to our beautiful hero.
"I-I-I…" Fleur stammered as she read the article.
"Fleur…?" Hermione said in a small voice.
As it was so early there were only a smattering of students in the great hall, and no Ravenclaws at the table with them. Fleur shook her head. "I don't want to talk about this here. Can we please go back to the carriage?"
Harry nodded. "I think that would be best."
They returned to the carriage and filed into Fleur's room. Harry and Lucy sat on the bed while Hermione sat in a nearby chair. Fleur was too wound up to sit so she instead paced the room. "I did not say any of that. None of it! That… that woman lied… no wait, I said Arry is kind and sweet, but I did not confess my undying devotion or say anything about heartache!"
"What did you say?" Lucy asked. Reading that article wasn't one of her favourite experiences and the look on Harry's face hadn't filled her with confidence.
"She asked me a couple of generic questions about the tournament and Hogwarts. And then she started asking me about Arry. It was obvious what she really wanted to know about, she didn't care about me or the tournament. She wanted to write about the boy-who-lived."
Harry huffed and shook his head. "I hate that name. They call me the boy-who-lived, conveniently forgetting that to survive my parents had to die. I'd much rather be the boy who's parents are alive. Fucking bastards…"
Lucy wrapped her arms around Harry, pulling him into her embrace. She could see the two other girls wanted to comfort him too but she sent them both looks telling them to back off. There was too much tension in the air right now for that.
"So that stuff about sufficing yourself…" Hermione began letting her voice trail off.
Fleur walked over to Hermione, giving her a kiss on the lips. "I have never regretted confessing to you, Hermione. You're wonderful. If someone things being with you is settling for someone, they're a complete moron."
"And what about that stuff she claims you told her about your feelings for Harry?" Lucy demanded.
"I care about Arry dearly, you're a very lucky woman, Lucy. I didn't say anything of the sort to Miss Skeeter," Fleur explained. Both Lucy and Hermione noticed that she conveniently side stepped confirming or denying her feelings for him.
"We've only been here, what, two weeks, and I already hate this place," Harry commented earning a smile from all three girls.
"I'm glad that's settled, but it still leaves a question," Hermione said as everyone turned to her. "How did Miss Skeeter know that Fleur and I are a couple? We're very careful in public, we're only affectionate with each other when we're here in the carriage."
"Oh, hey, yeah. I haven't seen you two be as outwardly affectionate with each other as usual since we arrived. I've been meaning to ask why but… I keep forgetting," Harry admitted.
"Oh, Harry, never change…" Lucy said exasperatedly.
Harry ignored that comment, instead focusing on Fleur and Hermione. "Do you think one of our classmates told her?"
"It's possible, but I'd like to think we can trust them more than that," Hermione replied.
"Oui, we've been at school together for seven years. Is that really worth throwing away to not get your name in some tabloid rag?" Fleur opined.
"I guess we'll simply have to be more careful about what we do and say while we're here from now on," Harry said with finality. He stood up and held is hand out for Lucy. "Shall we go back to breakfast?"
"Sounds good, are you two coming?" Lucy asked.
"In a second," Hermione said. "You two go on ahead."
Once Fleur and Hermione were alone, Hermione spoke again. "Fleur, how do you feel about Harry, the truth, please?"
"I… like Arry, as a friend and a sweet but annoying brother. Not the same way I like you," Fleur said not quite looking Hermione in the eyes.
"Ok," Hermione replied. She knew Fleur was lying, and that hurt a little bit. But she couldn't press her girlfriend, especially when the truth might eventually split them apart.
19 November 1994
A surprise knock at Fleur's door drew her out of bed where she'd been reading. She wasn't concerned about who might be waiting for her. Once the door of the carriage was locked for the night. Promptly at ten pm, no exceptions. Only a spell that would destroy the carriage and everyone inside would make it through. "Madam Maxime?"
"Hello, Fleur. I just returned from a very interesting walk. I would like to tell you about it. Would that be, okay?"
"Uh, I suppose…" Fleur said letting her headmistress inside her room.
"DRAGONS!!!" Hermione exclaimed angrily.
"Hermione, please lower your voice," Fleur admonished glancing at the door to her room nervously.
"Yes, okay, but fucking dragons. Are they insane??" Hermione demanded. Lucy and Harry glanced at each other and smothered their laughs.
"How can you two find this funny?!" Hermione demanded of the two.
Harry shook his head. "You're right, Hermione. It's not funny. But hearing you swear is."
Hermione flushed pink and looked away. "Shut up…"
"We know what's coming now, thankfully. We can help you prepare Fleur. We can put everything into the next few days to finding out what we can about those specific dragons."
Lucy and Hermione nodded, and Fleur smiled. "Thank you, all of you."
"Always," Harry said with a smile.