The Potters arrived back at the gates of Hogwarts very late that night. Harry was so utterly exhausted by then that it was a wonder he was still up and moving at all. Fleur took most of his weight as they trudged through the gate and up to the carriage.
They entered their suite to find Hermione passed out in a chair with a book on her chest. She popped awake immediately, though, and her eyes widened as she took in the tableau. Fleur shook her head at the girl, and silently indicated that she would be back shortly.
She then hauled Harry into their bedroom, relieved him of his clothes, and tucked him in. She could read his vague disappointment that she would not be joining him immediately, but also his understanding; Hermione was worried, and needed to hear what happened. She figured he was probably just glad not to have to tell the story himself.
With a gentle peck on the lips, she told him to get some sleep – and it wasn't like he needed telling twice.
She was tempted to crawl in after him, Hermione or no Hermione — partly out of worry for him, and partly because she, too, was exhausted — but duty won out. Hermione was waiting for her when she arrived back in the other room, practically bouncing in her chair. Most would have interpreted it as impatience, but Fleur could see it for what it really was.
The girl was deeply worried.
It was written all over the crease in her forehead, and in the way her intelligent brown eyes followed Fleur's every move. Or maybe it was just the fact that she remained silent; a truly impatient Hermione talked a mile a minute. Whatever it was, Fleur could practically feel her concern over her best friend.
"Is he okay?" she finally asked.
Fleur started at the question. She had leaned back in a chair and closed her eyes for a moment to gather her thoughts — or at least that was the intent. In actuality she had started to drift off herself.
"He is now, 'ermione," she sighed, in French since it was easier and she was tired. It was convenient that Hermione was fluent. "But that bastard that calls himself a Headmaster has a lot to answer for."
Hermione frowned. "What did he do this time?" she asked.
"He left a piece of Riddle's soul in the scar on Harry's forehead," Fleur said bluntly.
The manner in which Hermione's jaw dropped open would have been comical under other circumstances, but the subject was too serious for Fleur to find any humor in it. That Dumbledore would allow such a thing to stand was outright insane. She was really starting to wonder what exactly the old man's motives were when it came to her husband.
"A piece of his soul?" echoed Hermione faintly. "You mean that literally?"
Fleur confirmed the girl's supposition, and that led to a brief description of Horcruxes. While she admonished the girl to tell nobody of the situation, she didn't mind Hermione herself knowing (and knew that Harry wouldn't either). Hermione Granger was probably one of the most trustworthy people anywhere in the vicinity.
"So we have to find and destroy these things to kill Voledmort?" she finally asked. "I don't know where to even start with that. I guess I'll need to do a lot more research on his history."
Fleur felt a warm glow ignite at the implied offer. And she knew that offer wasn't just because Voldemort had to go. No, it was because Hermione cared about Harry, and would help in whatever way she was able. But fortunately, in this instance at least, it was unnecessary.
"No, 'ermione," she smiled. "In this case we leave it to the Goblins. Bill said they hate these things, and will happily track them to the ends of the Earth. And with 'Arry being a Friend of the Nation, the problem will get top priority. He will keep us updated."
Hermione slowly nodded. "We can trust them?" she asked tentatively.
"Yes," confirmed Fleur. "The goblins are many things, but 'honest' and 'honorable' figure very highly on that list for the average one."
Hermione was clearly relieved at that fact, and Fleur wasn't surprised. She had actually sat in on what passed for a History class at Hogwarts. The ghost that taught the class had droned on about a Goblin rebellion the entire time, and worse, was teaching outright lies.
But that was a topic for another day.
"We will need to help him, though," she sighed at length. "He also had a binding on his power, and I am starting to think that 'orcrux may have had… side effects."
Hermione's eyes widened. "Okay, let's take the side effects later. What about his power? I don't know much about bindings, but I know he would need to relearn control."
But Fleur shook her head. "We tested him at the Chateau before we came back. He will need to practice, but he has very good instinctive control. I do not think that will be a problem."
"Figures," snorted Hermione. "He might have been light on the theory for a long time, but he has never had a problem with the practical."
Fleur grinned and stifled a comment that would probably only serve to make Hermione jealous.
And Hermione, being the perceptive girl she was, caught it and rolled her eyes. "And what about these side effects you mentioned?"
That wiped the grin off Fleur's face.
It was truly just a guess of hers right now, but there were subtle changes in him that she was actually rather concerned about. Not because they were bad, but because he may have issues learning to deal with the situation. She wasn't sure of much on that score, and hadn't noticed it until after they left the hospital.
"I think the 'orcrux may have affected his mind somehow," she frowned after a moment. "He seems… different, slightly. Not in a bad way," she added hurriedly at Hermione's alarmed look, "just… subtly. And I think it has to do with emotion."
"What do you mean?" asked Hermione.
"My best theory is that it might have been blocking some of his positive emotions perhaps," Fleur slowly replied. "I only noticed the difference after we left the hospital, but he seems… lighter somehow."
Fleur closed her eyes for a moment to recall. There was no specific incident. No specific words that were said. No actions taken. It was just a raw impression that she couldn't shake.
Finally, she shook her head again. "I might be wrong," she admitted, "It's just an impression right now, but please keep an eye out. If his emotions were suppressed by that abomination, then he may have difficulty dealing with them now. Or at least with the intensity of them."
Hermione nodded in agreement.
Neither girl knew then just how prophetic Fleur's words were.
===[~]===
The truth of Harry's issues surfaced first thing the next morning. Harry couldn't even say what started it, or even what he was truly feeling. He had awoken next to Fleur as usual — he had no idea when she'd come to bed, as he'd been dead to the world at the time — and for some reason was simply struck by her beauty.
He couldn't stop the tears from coming, and they only came in greater force when he thought about just how lucky he was to have her in his life.
His reaction woke her, and she simply held him for nearly an hour that morning.
Harry was, in many ways, unemotional under normal circumstances. Not that he didn't feel emotions, of course, but he rarely let them affect him, and nor did he usually feel them very strongly. To find himself losing control and needing that kind of emotional support so randomly — especially because of a happy thought — was extremely unsettling.
When she explained it, Fleur's theory made a whole lot of sense to him. Time would tell if she was right, but he had a very strong suspicion that she was. He felt different, and it wasn't his magic. That left only one real conclusion.
While the Horcrux had also been suppressing some of its magic due to its leech-like properties, he suspected that the dark miasma was also affecting his mind.
It made him hate Dumbledore all the more, though he was relieved to note that the intensity of that emotion hadn't changed unduly. If he suddenly found himself hating more strongly, he would probably have to leave Hogwarts entirely, tournament or no. If he felt much stronger negative emotions against his former Headmaster, he might not be able to stop himself from pulling a Malfoy.
That was not a pleasant thought, but so far it seemed to be a non-issue.
The real problem, though, started during breakfast. Hermione met them there, and while his reaction to her was a little stronger than usual, it was easily dealt with. He was happy to see her as always, it was just a little more intense than usual.
And then the mail arrived, and he received his copy of the Daily Prophet. The headline article instantly caught his attention:
SIRIUS BLACK INNOCENT!
Wizengamot In Uproar Over Miscarriage Of Justice
by L. McDonald
To the shock of all who witnessed it, Sirius Orion Black III, Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, was declared innocent of all charges in his trial for the betrayal of James and Lily Potter in October of 1981. He was also cleared of the charge of membership in the terrorist organization known as the Death Eaters.
To the surprise of most, the trial was expedited through the use of Veritaserum at the request of the accused. The results of the questioning made it abundantly clear that an innocent man was locked up in Azkaban prison for over a decade. Sirius Black was never a Death Eater, nor did he betray the Potters.
This reporter was able to ask a few questions of Black as he left the courtroom, and it quickly became clear just how significant the miscarriage of justice actually was.
"I swore the godfather Oath," he told me, when asked about his relationship with Harry Potter, 14. "I couldn't have harmed Harry if I'd wanted to, even indirectly like that. Not that I would ever want to."
When asked what he would do about the Delacour family having guardianship of the now-married Boy Who Lived, Black's response was enlightening: "If Harry is happy with them, which I fully expect, then I have no intention of changing it. They stepped in when I couldn't, and I'll forever be grateful for that. No, I'll simply do what I can for him, maybe as a favorite Uncle. He'll always know I'm there for him if I have any say in the matter, but I'll never work against his wishes or best interests."
The passion with which Black spoke on this matter was inspiring; it is clear that he is very protective of his Godson.
The court indicated that Black will be justly compensated for his illegal imprisonment. The full nature of that will not be known until the next legislative sitting of the Wizengamot. It will likely be significant, however; Black lost more than a decade of income rotting in Azkaban.
An arrest warrant has been issued for Peter Pettigrew, who is believed to have faked his death that fateful day. He should be considered armed and dangerous, and should not be approached. Instead, notify the Aurors if Pettigrew is spotted.
The shock that he felt was immense. Nobody had told him that they had set a date, let alone that the trial was happening. He wasn't sure why that was, though he imagined that they wanted to surprise him or something.
Or maybe Sebastian hadn't known; it wasn't like he was part of the British government.
But then, as the shock cleared and he re-read the article, he began to feel something he couldn't recall ever feeling before. He was happy. Very happy. But this was a happiness so intense that he wasn't sure what to do with it. He was giddy!
And if he stayed where he was, feeling like he was, he was probably going to burst into song right there in the Great Hall. Not that he knew any songs really, but he certainly had something to sing about! Even if he no longer needed a new home, he still wanted — and now had — his Godfather!
Recognizing that he was about to lose it and start dancing in the aisle or something equally inane, Harry had just enough presence of mind to bolt.
Hermione and Fleur exchanged a glance — and promptly tore out of the Hall after him.
===[~]===
It took nearly another week for Harry to gain any kind of real control over his headier emotions. A consultation with Healer Parks also confirmed what they suspected — the Horcrux had probably had a detrimental effect, dampening any positive emotions he could feel. The situation was annoying, but a few more Occlumency lessons with Sebastian in the evenings had helped him regain some semblance of control.
Well, outwardly at least. He was all too aware that much of that control was currently illusory, aided by his fledgling Occlumency. It would take time to get used to the new dynamics of his emotions, and to actually be able to handle it without that crutch.
At least he could walk by his friends without bursting into tears of happiness simply because he had them, though.
If there was ever a time he was glad for the exodus of Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy, it was definitely now. Had he had such issues with emotional control while they were still in the school, it would have been positively unbearable. He couldn't help but think that Fate had done him a rather massive favor there.
As the Third Task neared, however, his thoughts turned largely to the future. The end of the year was almost upon them, and then he would be leaving to live with his new family in France. It was something he hadn't really contemplated much; there was too much to do at school.
Now, though, as he lay there watching Fleur get ready for bed, his mind for some reason turned in that direction. He was struck anew by the fact that this beautiful woman would be in his life forever. She wasn't just going to vanish when the year ended.
Sure, he had friends at Hogwarts, but in every year previous, he had endured the summer months all alone in the personal hell that was Privet Drive. There was nobody there to talk to in any kind of friendly way. And there was certainly nobody there to protect him from the abuse.
This summer would be different, though. He would never again return to Privet Drive. He would never again sleep all alone on a mattress so ratty that even a homeless man would turn his nose up at it. Instead he would be living in luxury with this beautiful woman.
"'Arry?" frowned Fleur. "Are you alright?"
He blinked and shook himself free of his imagination. "I'm fine," he nodded. "Just thinking about the future."
The fact that they were speaking French, as was becoming their custom when they were alone, barely even registered. Harry had to get fluent is quickly as possible, and Fleur was more than happy to help. From his perspective, it was about to replace English as his "native" language anyway.
"Oh?" she smiled, leaning up against the armoire behind her and crossing her arms over her chest. "And just what about the future were you thinking?"
Harry couldn't help but smile back. "Nothing in particular, really," he admitted.
Fleur raised an eyebrow in his direction, clearly wanting a better answer than that, but Harry was being honest. And his mind had already gone off in another direction anyway. In fact…
"We probably do need to talk, though," he frowned. "With you graduating, and me not coming back to Hogwarts, I have no idea what next year will look like." Frowning more deeply, he added, "I don't even know what you plan to do after school, now that I think about it. What does that say about me?"
Rather than answer him, Fleur pushed away from the armoire and came to sit on the edge of the bed, where she could reach over and brush his cheek. He had to clamp down on his Occlumency again; those small, loving touches meant more to him than even she would likely ever know. It was such a little thing, but it was something he truly craved.
"It says only that we have been extremely busy, love," she said quietly. "We have not known each other that long."
"I suppose you're right," he sighed. "It's been, what, three months since the wedding?"
"And the Task was less than a month before that," agreed Fleur. "We did not know each other at all until then."
They lapsed into silence, and Harry took a moment to consider that. His entire life had changed drastically since this situation came about, and it was really quite shocking. A lot had happened in the last few months.
He was brought out of it by another gentle touch from Fleur.
"Most couples, they date for many months before marrying, 'Arry," she continued. "And they do not have the demands on their attention that we do. I hope we will have much more time this summer to spend on each other, rather than on all of this."
She gestured vaguely, and he could sense her frustration with the situation — and indeed, he shared it. His life was a nightmare, and it all seemed to center around — or be caused by — Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. The sooner they could get away from him, the better. And the answer to that, at least for now, was to get away from Hogwarts.
But there was little they could do beyond what they were already doing.
"What do you plan to do next year?" he wondered after a while. "I mean, given our finances I really don't care if you work or not, but I can't really see you wanting to be a housewife or something."
Fleur snorted and then started laughing. "Oh, definitely not," she grinned. "Perhaps for a few years when we decide to have children, but otherwise, no. I am thinking about applying to Gringotts as a curse breaker, though I have not decided yet."
Harry deliberately let her comment about children pass him by. He desperately wanted to build a family, and that she seemed to want it as well was amazing, but he didn't want to get mired in that feeling right now. Occlumency only went so far in dampening his newfound emotions.
Instead he focused on the rest of her statement.
"I could see that," he nodded after a moment. "I'll probably worry because it's dangerous, but I'm not enough of a hypocrite to not support you." Tilting his head in thought he added, "Hell, I might want to to go that way, too. Maybe we'd like working together."
"Perhaps," she smiled as she finally stood. "Or perhaps you will find something else. You have a few years yet before you must make your decision, and I will support you in whatever you do."
As Fleur spoke, she slowly brushed her robe from her shoulders, and allowed it to fall and pool at her feet. Harry couldn't help but lick his lips; while her allure didn't affect him in the slightest, the sight of her beautiful body most certainly did. And then she reached for her panties and slowly sent them to join her robe.
"Of course, there are things that we already know we like to work on together, my love," she smirked as she slunk toward him. "Perhaps I should remind you?"
And that was something that Harry Potter was hardly going to say "no" to.
The rest of the conversation could wait.