From her position at the Ravenclaw table, a very subdued Fleur cautiously observed Harry Potter. Far from the relaxed sleeping boy she had seen on the couch that morning, he was now pale and drawn, and very obviously troubled. She could not blame him in the slightest, for she looked much the same.
The Beauxbatons students had taken to ridiculing her behind her back over her dismal performance, in French of course so their rivals would not understand. But it was remarkably easy to ignore something that normally would have gotten to her before now: she had far bigger problems than some stupid Tournament! And she had no idea how to proceed!
As usual, Harry sat with his two friends. Fleur did not at all like the obnoxious redhead; she had heard the rumors he spread about his own friend after the Selection, and was well aware that he was now telling tales to anyone who would listen about how he supposedly helped to rescue her and Gabrielle. Why Harry put up with his lies was a complete mystery!
His other friend, Granger, was a different story. She was a self-assured girl, very intelligent, and was referred to in the halls of Hogwarts as "the Gryffindor know-it-all." Fleur herself had yet to see her display such behavior, however, and held out a modicum of hope that she was a better friend than the boy. Unfortunately, that was where her hopes ended.
The boy's lustful stares were not lost on her, nor was Granger's disgust with the situation. This was not promising, for most women despised her when they discovered the effect she had on their men. She herself despised it, but there was little she could do short of leaving the room!
She was certain the girl would hold it against her just like everyone else did. Would they get along? Would they fight? The last thing she wanted was to take Harry's friends from him along with everything else he was so selflessly giving up for her.
As to Harry himself, he glanced pensively in her direction from time to time, but otherwise ignored her. She was surprised to find that the reaction hurt, but there it was. Did he think her unworthy to be with? He was not like the other boys, and she somehow knew that her beauty would not help her in winning his respect.
To feel that way about a boy three years her junior was unnerving to say the least. This boy – no, this young man – had defeated challenges that she herself could barely face, and had rescued her in the process! To do so at fourteen made him a truly amazing wizard, and though she was loathe to admit it, she was somewhat in awe of him.
Her father told her of his reaction to the news, and she was very relieved, but she also felt terribly guilty for taking away his choices. A surprisingly large part of her thought she should simply allow herself to die, because it was wrong to ruin his life like this! But she was selfish enough – and scared enough – that she could not bring herself to do it.
"Stop spacing out!" hissed one of her classmates disgustedly. "You're making us look bad!"
Fleur turned and stared down her nose at the girl, making use of every single one of her long years of experience. Rather than speak, she simply met the girl's gaze, and – using a technique her father had taught her – put on the most intimidating look she could muster. Predictably, the girl quailed, and Fleur silently went back to her Harry watching.
If there was one good thing about the situation, it was that he wasn't bad looking. In fact, he was surprisingly cute! If she could convince him to get rid of those awful rags he wore on the weekends, she suspected that he would be a fine specimen, and probably earn a lot more respect than he currently had.
Didn't he realize that perception was as important as reality? It was likely one of the reasons he was picked on so frequently by the students, especially the Slytherins: he dressed like a beggar, as though his appearance meant nothing to him. It was only his occasional self-consciousness – like at the wand weighing – that told her otherwise.
That, though, could be fixed, and if she was going to marry him, then she was going to help him do it. It was nothing vain on her part; it was merely that she wanted what was best for him, and saw it as her duty. He was a powerful figure, and unless she missed her guess, he had no idea just how powerful he was in the eyes of the Wizarding public!
But that was an issue for later, and as he rose from his seat across the hall, she turned her thoughts to events that were much closer. In less than a month she would be married to a hero of their world! She was equal parts horrified and fascinated by the concept! She could only hope that he was as good a man as he appeared to be, or her life would quickly turn into a living hell.
There was, after all, no divorce in their world.
She was so lost in her worries that she almost missed his approach. She had thought he was leaving the hall, but no, he was coming to talk to her! For the first time in a long time, she felt her confidence all but evaporate: here it was, the moment of truth, and she would likely find out what he really thought of the whole thing!
Would he be angry with her? Would he yell at her? Would he demand things from her? The latter, at least, she was relatively certain would not happen; it was not his way from what she had seen of him. Still, she was unaccountably nervous about being on the wrong side of his temper after seeing him unflinchingly face down a Hungarian Horntail!
He came to a halt just behind her seat, and she was startled to realize that he was as nervous as she was, at least if the wringing of his hands was any indication...
"Er, hi," he said with a quick, faint smile. "Can we talk privately?"
Fleur stared in surprise for a moment before shaking herself out of it. "Oui," she nodded. "Of course."
He glanced over his shoulder at the doors. "Er, outside maybe?" he asked tentatively. "It's too easy for people to listen here."
"Zat will be fine," she agreed.
"Right."
Fleur followed him out of the hall, inwardly stunned at just how nervous he was! They remained silent as they made their way down to the lake, drawing curious and speculative looks from teacher and student alike. That made her shudder: the fallout from this would be horrendous! Her father was good with public relations, but she doubted that anyone was good enough for this!
He led her to a large rock overlooking the water, and she shuddered at the memories the sight provoked. That blasted lake was what started this whole affair in the first place! If only she could go back in time and change things...
"Er, I hope this is okay," he said nervously.
"It is fine," she said with a small smile to ease his nerves. "I am just not fond of ze water. Veela and water, zey do not mix."
Harry frowned as he crawled up on the rock and sat down cross-legged. "Why?" he asked curiously.
Fleur studied him for a moment, and found that his curiosity was genuine. Shrugging internally, and deciding that they had to start somewhere, she likewise levered herself up and sat down next to him. Her own nerves eased with the realization that he wasn't angry with her.
"We are creatures of air and fire," she explained. "Our magic is based on zose elements. Water interferes wiz it."
Harry frowned deeply and looked away from her out over the water as he contemplated her answer. His nerves were still plainly showing in the way his fingers worried at the hem of his robes; he was clearly uncomfortable with her. She had no idea what to do to fix it, either.
"So you were at a pretty big disadvantage then?" he asked eventually.
Fleur sighed at the memory. "Oui," she said quietly. "Zo I think zat your disadvantage is just as great. You do not 'ave as much education."
Harry snorted at that. "Maybe," he agreed grudgingly, "but I had help. I never could have done it on my own."
Fleur was shocked by the guilt that washed over his features, but something did not add up. As far as she could tell, he was not the sort to cheat! Drawing on every ounce of maturity she could muster, she forced herself not to jump to conclusions, even if he did seem to think badly of his own actions.
"'ow so?" she asked curiously.
A fond smile appeared on his face. "One of the House Elves is a friend of mine," he explained. "He turned up with the Gillyweed right before the Task started. He said he overheard some of the Professors talking and decided to help me out." He suddenly snorted, his morbid amusement apparent. "I fell asleep in the library trying to figure it out. I wouldn't even have made it if he didn't wake me up."
Fleur was surprised he would call a House Elf his friend – and then, as she listened, even more so that he felt guilty about it! "Zere is nuzzing wrong wiz zat," she frowned. "Your friends are allowed to 'elp you."
"I guess," he said morosely, dropping his gaze to his lap. And then he sighed and abruptly changed the subject. "Did your dad tell you?" he asked simply.
Fleur stared at him, taken aback by how quickly he switched tracks. It took some effort to get her wits about her in the wake of it. When she did, she also gave a breathy sigh, and leaned back on her hands, still watching him intently.
"If you mean zat you 'ave accepted ze proposal, zen yes, 'e as told me," she said quietly. Lowering her voice slightly – and unable to prevent her own guilt from coming through in it – she whispered, "I am zo sorry, 'Arry. I did not mean for zis to 'appen to you, and I cannot zank you enough for what you are doing."
Harry shook his head. "It's not your fault, Fleur," he said thickly. "It just is. I honestly don't know how to deal with it, but I can't let you die."
Tired of staring at his ear, and moved by the sudden turbulence of his emotions, Fleur reached out and caught his chin with one slender finger, using it to turn his head to face her. The intimacy of the gesture surprised her as much as it did him; she did not generally touch boys, because they tended to take it as an invitation. Harry, on the other hand, merely searched her eyes for sincerity as she spoke.
"Zank you," she repeated with feeling. "I do not know 'ow eizzer, but I 'ope we will manage. If we must be togezzer, zen I want us to be 'appy."
He smiled faintly at her. "Me too," he admitted. "But this– this is–"
He huffed and turned away again, his struggle for words clear on his face. She simply gave him the time; what else could she do? It was an impossible situation, and nobody had any answers! They were going to have to muddle through it, and that would take patience.
As the silence stretched she could tell that he was debating with himself over something, but what it was, she could only imagine. She had to admit that he was rather brave to do this; most men would have run away screaming, and the few that remained would have wanted to use her as a toy! But Harry? He was genuinely concerned, and she could tell that he would never harm her.
"I've never even had a girlfriend before," he finally forced himself to admit, his voice barely above a whisper. "What am I supposed to do?"
Fleur was stunned by his simple pronouncement. He'd never had a girlfriend before? How was that even possible? He was one of the most famous wizards on the planet, and the girls were lining up around the block to get with him! He could have anyone he wanted!
No, stunned was not the word! That he hadn't taken advantage of his fame with the ladies, it was a truly startling revelation. And unbeknownst to him, it made her feel vastly more comfortable with him, and raised her opinion of him still further. Though it also broke her heart that he would never have the chance to find love out in the world.
And if he was going to be so honest with her...
"I 'ave not eizzer, 'Arry," she admitted, her voice just as thick with emotion. "Ze boys, zey do not care about anything but 'ow I look. I 'ave never wanted zat."
Harry snorted morosely. "The girls only care about the bloody scar on my forehead," he sighed, "so I guess I know how you feel."
Fleur started blankly at him, and then – she just couldn't help it – she threw her head back and laughed. She had not expected this! She knew little about him, but perhaps there was a chance! If they could find a common ground, then they might just survive it intact!
As the pieces came together, she realized that, in at least this one way, they were very much alike. Both were looked upon as objects, mere prizes to be obtained by the opposite sex, and they both hated it. And if she was reading him right, then Harry, too, had been waiting for that special person to come along and see him for who he really was!
Not seeing what she was laughing about, Harry turned back to her with a startled and hurt look, but she just shook her head at him.
"We are quite ze pair, non?" she chortled. "Both of us are stuck, and both of us 'ave nevair 'ad experience wiz anything like zis!"
Harry snorted once, and then, finally seeing the humor in it, he started to chuckle. He didn't outright laugh – she'd never heard him do so, actually – but a lot of the tension left his body, to her relief. She wanted to get to know him, but it would very difficult if he was afraid of her!
And in a flash of insight, she realized that she was going to have to completely drop her public attitude around him, or he would be hard pressed to figure her out by the time they were married.
That thought actually frightened her. For so long she had only let her family see who she was, and though she knew that someday she would have to let someone else in, she had not expected it to happen so soon. But there was nothing else she could do, for he deserved to know exactly who he was marrying, for better or worse.
"We are, aren't we?" he sighed, distracting her from her musings. "So where do we go from here? Like I said, I haven't a bloody clue how any of this works."
Fleur shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine, 'Arry."
Harry grunted his understanding and lapsed into silence, staring out over the water again. To her surprise, it was not uncomfortable: she could see the gears turning in his head, and knew that he was thinking hard about their situation. Really, his presence was quite comforting.
Though that probably had something to do with the fact that she felt so safe with him; being rescued by someone will do that to you.
Finally, many minutes later, he turned back, and she was surprised to see nervousness of a different sort on his features. There was a certain vulnerability in his eyes, as though he'd decided to let her in at least a little. And this time, his small smile didn't falter.
"Fleur, would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?" he asked tentatively.
Whatever she expected him to say, it wasn't that. She stared blankly at him for a moment before shaking herself out her stupor and tilting her head as she studied him. "Are you asking me on a date?" she asked with genuine curiosity.
Harry ran a hand nervously through his hair. "Yeah," he nodded. "I just figured, you know, if we're going to get married, then..." He trailed off with a shrug, and then his face fell and he turned his gaze to his hands where they were resting in his lap. "I'll understand if you don't want to, though," he added quietly.
His complete lack of confidence was remarkably endearing. Here was a young man who already knew that they would be married in a matter of weeks, and yet he was nervous about asking her on a date? He was even more unassuming that she would have guessed!
"I would love to go wiz you, 'Arry," she smiled, causing him to look hopefully back up at her. "I am sorry, I was just surprised is all. I was not expecting it."
The smile that lit his face at her response was much more natural, and transformed his entire appearance. He looked so happy! It reached all the way to his brilliant green eyes, and for the first time, she saw reflected in them exactly what she was suddenly feeling herself.
She saw hope.