Lightning crackled across the dark night sky, casting sharp, jagged shadows across the towering fortress, which loomed high above, ensnared by mountains on all sides. The air buzzed with latent magic, a foreboding presence that seemed to seep from the very stones of the building. At the fortress entrance, three men stood vigilantly, their postures deceptively relaxed, eyes trained and unwavering. They wore long, high-collared cloaks over finely tailored robes, giving them a sinister elegance as they stood guard, deadly serious about the secret within.
I shivered as my eyes fell on an inscription above the entrance: *Für das größere Wohl*—"For the Greater Good." Those words, etched in my memory, were notorious in the magical world, a chilling mantra that had led to countless atrocities.
My vision seemed to blur, and suddenly I found myself moving forward, crossing the threshold into the fortress. Every inch of the gray, brooding structure seemed to pulse with an energy that was both ancient and sinister. Each brick was carved with intricate runes, magical symbols that hinted at dark spells and heavy protections. Guards patrolled each corridor, stationed with the single, silent mission of overseeing the fortress's sole prisoner.
After a dizzying series of turns and a passage that stretched longer than it should, I finally arrived at the heart of the fortress. Nearly a dozen Aurors were positioned here, tense and focused. But this was only the threshold. Beyond them was a short, narrow staircase that led to a dimly lit, cramped hallway. I counted the ten steps under my breath, feeling a chill settle deeper with each one. At the end of the five-meter passage stood a single, cold, damp cell, where a frail-looking man sat in tattered clothes.
Despite his worn appearance, I knew that this man had once commanded legions, bending the world to his will. Even now, his reputation was so formidable that no Auror dared to guard the hall directly outside his cell, for fear of his influence. A single glance told me he was still dangerous. And then I saw it—his eyes. A cold, piercing pale blue, the same shade as Dumbledore's, a detail that sent chills down my spine. His presence filled the cell with an aura of melancholy and restrained power, a haunting echo of what he had once been.
Suddenly, the quiet creak of footsteps from the staircase broke the silence. I turned to see an Auror descending with a small plate of food and a folded newspaper. The Auror slid the items across the floor into the cell, then collected the empty plate and paper from the day before without a word, his gaze avoiding the prisoner entirely. The old man took the food with deliberate slowness, his movements betraying an eerie grace. As he lifted the newspaper, my eyes darted to the walls of the cell, noting the countless runes inscribed there: anti-Apparition, anti-Portkey, anti-Animagus, anti-Polyjuice, runes to induce restlessness and nightmares. It was the cruelest irony—he had built this prison himself and now lay confined within its merciless protections.
Without warning, everything sped up as though someone had accelerated time. The old man's movements became a blur—he ate, read, and resumed his meditative position in a flash. Ten seconds later, another set of footsteps echoed down the hall. Another Auror arrived, carrying the same meager meal and newspaper, completing the exchange with robotic precision before departing. The routine continued, speeding up in a relentless cycle. Each time, a different Auror arrived, yet never the same one twice.
Finally, the pace returned to normal. One last Auror stepped into the hall and left his offerings outside the cell. The old man ate in silence, but as he read the newspaper this time, his eyes flashed a bright, unsettling pale blue for a split second. A twinge of dread ran through me. He continued reading and then discarded the paper with a huff, pushing the plate out. Curious, I glanced at the headline, only to freeze: it declared Voldemort's defeat, brought down in his failed attempt to kill a one-year-old child. Me.
A realization hit me hard, stealing my breath—only I couldn't gasp. I was there, yet I was not. My mind raced, struggling to process the impossibility of my presence. Then, abruptly, time warped once more. Hundreds of different Aurors came and went, each as cold and silent as the last, none of them entering the hall twice.
Once again, time slowed, and I watched as the old man received yet another newspaper. This time, as he scanned the page, his face twisted into an expression of fury. Flames erupted from his hand, burning the paper to ash in an instant. My eyes widened—how was he able to conjure fire here, within these magic-dampening wards? If he could do magic, why had he not yet escaped?
Time began to compress and expand in dizzying cycles. The old man cycled through newspapers, each headline met with indifference, anger, or mocking laughter. And then, with a flicker of interest, he examined one with a particularly intense focus. His eyes glowed again, one icy blue and the other a haunting gold. He chuckled softly, and the sound seemed to penetrate through me, hollow and mocking.
The headline read: *Triwizard Tournament Returns! Dragons Escape! Dumbledore Defeats Nundu! Young Potter Fells the Common Welsh Green!* My stomach lurched as I felt his gaze shift, somehow piercing the space that separated us. His eyes locked onto mine, and I felt a primal fear I'd never known take hold as his lips twisted into a smirk.
"Meet me, Potter," he called softly, his voice an ominous whisper that echoed in the small, silent cell. "Meet me."
In a flash, his hand shot forward, and a blinding light exploded toward me. I couldn't move, couldn't even breathe as the light engulfed me. My vision swirled, my head spun, and everything went dark…
…
With a start, I jolted awake, my heart pounding loudly in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears. I drew in a shaky breath, a comforting warmth wrapped around me, grounding me in the present. Blinking away the last traces of the unsettling vision, I tried to get my bearings. The gentle scent of pine and lavender surrounded me, soothing yet somehow… close. Too close. My awareness sharpened, and I felt a soft weight across my side.
Wait… what?
As my vision cleared, realization hit me, and my face flushed. Lying beside me on the soft grass by the edge of the Black Lake was Fleur. Her arm was draped around me, her fingers curled against my side, and my own arm rested protectively over her. Our faces were mere inches apart, so close I could feel the gentle rise and fall of her breath against my cheek, soft and even. I felt heat bloom up to my ears, my heart racing in a whole new way.
Carefully, I nudged her. "Fleur, wake up," I whispered, giving her a soft shake.
"Five more minutes, Gabby," Fleur murmured, shifting to press her head against my chest, her voice muffled and drowsy. My breath hitched at the unexpected warmth.
"Fleur!" I repeated, my voice rising a bit as I shook her more urgently. "It's Harry—wake up!"
"'Arry… five more minutes," she mumbled, her accent thick with sleep. But after a few seconds, her words seemed to register, and she blinked, startled. In an instant, she sat up, eyes widening as she took in the scene, her mouth forming a small "oh." Her gaze darted to me, then to the lake, and then back to me, a realization dawning that made her cheeks flush a delicate shade of pink.
"We… we fell asleep?" she whispered, her voice almost too quiet, her porcelain cheeks now a rosy red that matched her lips.
"Uh… yeah," I managed, feeling my own cheeks heat. "I… I guess we did."
For a moment, neither of us moved, our eyes locked, and I felt an awkward yet oddly comforting silence settle over us. Fleur glanced down, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her face still pink.
Clearing my throat, I twirled my ring, summoning my wand to appear, and cast Tempus. It read 4:39 AM. Winter's darkness still held the grounds in a cool hush, while the rhythmic waves of the Black Lake filled the silence, almost soothingly. I turned my head toward Hogwarts, noticing the faint glow of Yule Ball decorations still adorning the castle.
"I'm surprised no one woke us," Fleur murmured, her voice still slightly groggy, with a hint of relief.
"I'd cast a few privacy charms while we were talking…" I said, trying to steady myself, though my mind was reeling both from the dream and Fleur's warm presence, which felt comforting yet unsettlingly intense. "And… I think your necklace kept us from freezing." I gestured to the delicate pendant she wore, only now registering that we had, in fact, fallen asleep… cuddled.
Fleur looked down at her necklace and then back at me, her expression softening. She brushed her fingertips over the pendant. "It's enchanted with a Thermo-Regulus charm," she said with a shy smile. "Never thought it'd come in handy like this, though."
A chuckle slipped from my lips. "Guess it did. I owe it for saving us from a night in the hospital wing."
As our laughter faded, we fell into an awkward silence, neither of us quite knowing what to say next. The stillness was thick, charged with an energy that made it hard to breathe. I shifted slightly, hyper-aware of how close we were, the warmth of her body still lingering next to mine.
"So… we should…" I began after a few minutes, the quiet feeling heavier now. "Probably return to our rooms… hopefully, no one has noticed our absence."
"Uhm-hmm," Fleur hummed in agreement, nodding slightly. How could someone make even a simple nod look both cute and sexy? I would never know. "Yeah… you're right…" She looked away for a moment, her gaze drifting toward the lake as the first hints of dawn began to light up the horizon, painting the sky with soft hues of pink and gold.
I took a deep breath, trying to dispel the tension in the air. "Let's just hope no one comes looking for us before we get back," I said, attempting to lighten the mood. "I'd hate to explain why we were snuggled up by the lake."
Fleur's eyes sparkled with mischief and a hint of trepidation as she turned to me. "Of course, I can totally see it being a big scandal: 'The 'Ogwarts and Beauxbatons Champion Cuddled by ze Lake!'" She giggled, the sound bright and infectious. "Or maybe ze 'eadline could read: 'The French Veela Bewitches the 'Ogwarts Champion!' I can picture ze articles now—complete wiz scandalous photographs!"
I couldn't help but chuckle at the image, even as my heart raced at her playful tone. "Right! Just what I need—more headlines about me and my 'bewitching' friends," I joked, rolling my eyes.
After a moment, Fleur looked at me intently and asked, "Just friends?"
At her question, my breath hitched. I wanted to say so much, but as I searched her beautiful sapphire orbs, the words I chose felt significant. "You know I stopped hiding my affection a while ago," I replied, the honesty hanging in the air between us.
A small, tentative yet sly smile appeared on Fleur's face, and her hand slid slowly around my neck. Her gaze smoldered as she murmured, "Did you see me 'olding back at ze ball?"
"Maybe not…" I replied, my voice wavering slightly. Sure, she was more open and bold now, but I couldn't shake the feeling that she still harbored some doubts. "You were more open than you have ever been before… though… I guess there are still uncertainties?"
"Well… I suppose I can't deny zat…" Fleur said, pouting in a way I hadn't expected at all. It was adorably charming, and her lips looked so enticing. "Take me on a few more dates," she added, a teasing smirk forming on her lips as she caught me staring.
"Really?" I asked, a happy smile breaking across my face as I mirrored her expression and wrapped my arm around her waist.
"Yes, 'Aryy," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, and then she leaned in closer.
Her face leaned in? Oh…
Before I could fully register what was happening, her lips met mine in a soft kiss that ended all too quickly, leaving me breathless and yearning for more.
My heart raced as I watched her go, the thrill of that kiss still electrifying on my lips. Left standing by the Black Lake, I couldn't shake the smile tugging at my mouth. As the horizon grew lighter, I resolved to take Fleur on those dates—and maybe steal a few more kisses along the way.
After she disappeared from sight, I turned back toward the castle, a lingering warmth in my chest. Thankfully, the Hogwarts hallways were empty at this early hour, allowing me a clear path to my common room. I mumbled the password, and the sleepy portrait swung open, letting me into the dim, quiet space. Judging by the state of the cushions and a few stray decorations, the common room had been buzzing with activity after the Yule Ball.
I made my way upstairs to the boys' dormitory, stepping carefully to avoid waking anyone. Pushing the door open quietly, I found Ron, Seamus, Neville, and Dean all fast asleep, some still in their dress robes. Neville was even snoring softly, his collar crooked and one shoe missing.
With a sigh, I pulled the curtains around my bed, slipped under the covers, and let my thoughts drift back to Fleur. My pulse softened, and a smile settled as I drifted into sleep, replaying that magical morning by the lake.
The Grindelwald dream can wait a few hours.
Author's note: Honestly, this chapter turned out way worse than I expected... Actually, a comment in AO3 by Thique_Lee made me realize that this lake scene is a good place for a kiss scene. Also, this chapter is a little shorter than usual with only like 2.3k words... So sorry about that. Give me reviews, comments, criticism and all of them... I love them. I read all comments. Hope you all had a great Diwali/Halloween.
Cheers!