"Confringo!"
Fleur watched as a beautiful jet of golden-orange flames issued from the tip of Harry's wand, striking the transfigured target and reducing it to ashes.
There it is again.
The Blasting Curse was definitely not something Albus Dumbledore would ever allow to be taught within the walls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Fleur herself hadn't yet been taught the spell, as it was to be taught in the seventh year for those who learnt Offensive Magic at Beauxbatons. Fleur, being a sixth year, had only learnt it due to a set of lesson plans she had found on her Professor's desk, all of which she had done her best to hastily memorize.
Yet somehow, a fourteen year old boy under the tutelage of Dumbledore and his staff had managed to learn it. Ignoring the fact that it was a rather difficult curse to learn, Fleur had no idea where it was he might have learnt it.
The Restricted Section of the Hogwarts Library could be the answer, but Fleur doubted it. Harry would not be allowed access to the place, and even if he snuck in Fleur was sure he would have at least told her. Wherever of whatever it was that was providing Harry with his knowledge, it was not the Restricted Section.
It was now February 17th, the second task but a week away. The last two weeks had been fairly similar in schedule as it always had, at least for Fleur: wake up, have breakfast by the shores and talk with Harry, study, lunch, study, supper, train with Harry, and go to bed.
At least, that was what her schedule normally was like. Every few days, another activity occurred in Fleur's schedule: ask Harry how and where it was he was learning his magic.
Truthfully, it wasn't overly important to Fleur how her companion learnt his admittedly impressive magic. It was simply that Harry was keeping a secret, something that Fleur disliked. Perhaps she was being reasonable, perhaps not - but the gap between them had been slowly growing because of whatever it was that Harry was keeping from her. She tried to make her feelings on the matter as obvious as she could without appearing nosy or controlling, although such a task was much easier said than done.
The fact remained that Fleur had told Harry anything and everything she could about herself, only keeping her unorthodox feelings on her companion private. Why she had been so open, she didn't know - she had not trusted anyone half as much, that was for sure. Fleur was usually cold and distant when in the company of others, so perhaps finding someone she could be herself around allowed her to open up.
At the start of their relationship, they had both taken a leap of faith, particularly with the information they had given each other. Neither had trusted the other at the time, but had opened up in the hope of forming a bond with the other. That bond had been formed, and it had been far more than worth it, in Fleur's opinion.
Fleur had never quite had anything like it. She was not used to being dependent on another, to be able to trust someone so freely. It was a lovely experience, something Fleur would surely miss. So to see something that could potentially take it all away from her frightened her far more than she would like to admit.
Fleur had already worked out that his magical knowledge was in some way related to how he kept disappearing within Hogwarts. Nobody in the school seemed to know where it was that he spent his time, Fleur included.
Harry's vanishing acts bothered her just as much as his magical knowledge, and for the same reason. There was no jealousy, no envy, no negative emotions other than Fleur being upset that Harry was remaining closed off. She and Harry told each other everything, and Fleur hoped it would remain that way.
It was irrational, perhaps, to ask such a thing of someone, but Fleur desired it all the same. They were - well, Fleur wasn't really sure - but they were something, and they were meant to have each other's backs, to care unconditionally for each other.
Perhaps it was simply that Fleur had never had any sort of bond with anyone else. Were her desires unrealistic? Fleur was more than willing to reciprocate anything she asked of Harry; she was not hypocritical, at the very least.
Or maybe it has something to do with his adventures.
Harry had given her a slight overview of his adventures, although it was not enough that Fleur knew much about any of them. Something about a man known as Professor Quirrell, a snake of some sort, a boy by the name of Riddle, a dog, a Time-Turner, and dementors.
While most of those made little to no sense to Fleur, the second to last one certainly rang bells in her mind. One night last August her father had come home from the ministry completely tired, and in a rather frustrated mood. From what he had told her, Dumbledore had somehow managed to allow one of his students permission to receive a Time-Turner to aid them in their studies.
This had apparently caused a massive uproar in those that heard, and for good reason. Time-Turners were rather tricky objects, to put it lightly. While they allowed for time travel, they did not actually allow someone to change time. Whatever had happened would happen exactly as before, only the perspective of the witch or wizard using the device would be changed.
In short, it allowed someone to very easily study for just about anything and everything. On the other hand, it was also a disaster waiting to happen. Although it could not actually change time, it could provide the user with quite a plethora of information not at all related to academics.
While it only allowed someone to go a week back in time at the most, it was still enough to scare most politicians. The leaders of the magical world (and likely the muggle one) were not the best of people, that was for sure.
The fact that Harry had not told Fleur much about his adventures perturbed her as well, but she understood it more. Fleur personally would only ever tell those to someone she trusted with her life. Although she was admittedly nearing that level of trust with Harry, she was not quite there yet. His lack of opening up was preventing that.
Although Fleur had asked him many times where it was he vanished to, Harry had not yet answered her. In fact, more often than not, he ignored the question entirely.
She suspected that knowing whatever it was could potentially harm her in some way. It certainly would not surprise her; Harry could be just as noble as he could cunning. But Fleur was not looking to be protected; they were companions, they would stick together. If that meant she might have to swim through rough waters, she would eagerly do so.
Fleur had waited and waited for him to open up, having completely done so for him, but he had yet to do so. She had waited for the sake of their companionship, but their friendship, their relationship would not last much longer if they could not truly and fully trust each other.
It might never grow to be more than a friendship.
Either way, Fleur wouldn't know. She had never had a friend before, nor had she had anyone else.
Maybe people are not meant to share everything with others. Maybe we're meant to be left alone.
Fleur couldn't help but hope that wasn't the case.
"Please." whispered Fleur as Harry pointed his wand at the next target, causing the boy to freeze momentarily before turning to her.
"Fleur?" asked Harry in confusion, lowering his wand.
"Just tell me." she pleaded softly, "Tell me wherever it is you vanish off to all the time, however it is you learn your magic. It does not matter to me if it is something horrible, I do not care - but please do not leave me in the dark."
Harry froze. He had not at all been unaware of Fleur's questioning over the last few days, and although he wished otherwise, he could truthfully understand it. She had been open to him, something he suspected she had never done before. Harry knew that Fleur saw this as more than a friendship; he did too.
That wasn't to say it was a romantic relationship. It could be, that was true, but Harry wasn't quite sure yet. He certainly was attracted to the Veela, that was for sure. Regardless, the fact remained that they had both intended to fully open up to each other in the hopes of developing a lifelong bond. Fleur had done that, as far as he knew. He, however, had not.
He was close, and had told her more about himself than any other living person (as Salazar was certainly not alive by any means). But Harry had barely told her about his adventures, and had said nothing about Voldemort, the horcruxes, or being a Mage.
There was a reason, of course. It was not because Harry didn't trust her, because he did - perhaps more so than was wise for someone like himself. It was not as though Harry disliked her or something similar either - that couldn't be further from the truth.
If she knows, she'll be marked.
Harry was very aware of the target drawn upon his back. He had many enemies, one of which was, without a doubt, one of the two most powerful wizards currently alive (even if nobody else knew him to still be living). It was not as though Harry could particularly trust the other of the two wizards either.
Harry had made sure to keep his relation to Fleur as subtle as possible. As far as anyone knew, they had gone to the Yule Ball together as platonic dates. Aside from that, there was no known connection.
Fleur simply being a known companion of his could put her life in danger, especially since it was to the Yule Ball. What would her knowing about Voldemort and his horcruxes mean for her? The only answer Harry could come up with was six feet under the earth, an answer he did not find favourable.
"I can't tell you." Harry muttered softly. Fleur hastily blinked her eyes, drying them before speaking again.
"Why?"
The tone was clearly meant to be cool and dispassionate. It was an admirable cover, but Harry knew her very well by now; he could practically feel the emotion in her voice.
"You know why."
"Because I would be in danger?" she accurately guessed, her voice a mix of coldness and ferocity. Harry merely nodded, something which seemed to anger Fleur more.
"I do not care about being in danger." hissed Fleur, "If I did, I would not have signed up for something such as the Triwizard Tournament!"
"This is worse than the tournament!" Harry defended.
"And? I have told you, it does not matter to me! I am not like your former friends, I will not run!"
"I'm not saying you will! But I'm not going to knowingly put your life in danger! This would change your life - not in a good way either, you'd probably be dead far sooner than you should be!
"I have told you, I understand, and do not care! I would not leave you in such a way." replied Fleur, her facial features now gaining a distinctly avian appearance. Fleur was trying her utmost hardest not to let tears slip from her eyes. She was truthfully not sure whether the tears were formed out of anger, sadness, desperation or longing.
"Look," said Harry, "Two years ago, my mate's wand broke because of me - "
"Merde!" Fleur practically screamed out, the fire in her eyes not diminished by the tears that accompanied it, "As if I give a damn about my wand breaking. It is precious to me, but not irreplaceable!"
"And my other best friend spent two months in the Hospital Wing unconscious later that year, also because of me!" exclaimed Harry, "You mean so much more to me, you know that! What might happen to you?"
"If I mean so much to you, why will you not show it? I will not leave just because my life becomes harder!"
"I do show it, and I know you won't leave! But the reason I'm not telling you is to keep you safe." yelled Harry, "You're powerful, more so than almost everyone I've every met. But the people in question are more powerful than you, more powerful than me. Yeah, we'll get stronger, and we might even surpass them someday - but when will that be? A year from now? Maybe ten?"
There was a silence between them, one that was quietly broken by Harry.
"I'm sorry for not telling you, I really am. But it's important - you're important. I can't risk you losing you too. You have to have something you aren't telling me for my well being - compare it to that."
"Really?" asked Fleur, her voice hard. She held up her hand, swiftly raising her pointer finger, "There is only one thing I have not told you, and that is because it is inappropriate."
"Well, that's close enough - "
"I like you, as more than what we are now." said Fleur bluntly, the words escaping her mouth before she could stop them, "But you are fourteen, and so I kept it to myself."
Harry's eyes widened drastically, his mouth almost hanging open. A part of him was currently shooting for joy, a wild party far greater than any ever thrown by Fred and George Weasley taking place within him at the very moment.
The other, more rational part of him was even more worried than before. This made Fleur significantly more important to him, especially in the eyes of others. There was no way anyone wishing to cause him harm would overlook what Fleur might mean to him.
There was a silence amongst the two, both of them wiping their faces in order to remove the occasional tear that had formed. It was a rather uncomfortable silence, but silent all the same.
Neither had cried in front of another since before they had gone through their own changes. For Fleur that was just before her Veela puberty, and for Harry, that was since exploring the Chamber of Secrets - the place he now considered his one true home.
It was not the tears, however, that made the experience awkward (as neither could find it in themselves to care about crying at the moment). It was the tense air surrounding them, an air filled with magic and emotion.
"Will you open up to me?" asked Fleur, her passionate voice once again unsuccessfully masked by disinterest.
"No." Harry replied, his tone similar, "I care about you just as much as you do me; that's why I won't let you get hurt because of me."
"You do not think this is at all painful?" Fleur forced out.
"Better than death. To become nothing forever; you'd never see me again, and I would never see you."
With that, Fleur nodded, spinning around and storming off to the Beauxbatons Carriage at a rapid pace, her hands occasionally making their way to her face as she did so.
I did the right thing. She's safe, she won't become another person who dies for me. She won't be like mum, not in that way.
Regardless of his attempts at convincing himself, Harry couldn't help but feel as though he had made a mistake. He sank to the ground, overcome with emotion. Harry was not in the mood to head back to the chamber, he was not in the mood to see anyone or anything at the moment.
I want to be alone. Let me be alone to drown in my own miserable thoughts.
The twigs, leaves, sand grains, even the water that surrounded Harry on the lake's shore slowly drifted away from him, unconsciously obeying the thoughts that pounded through Harry's mind.
Fleur quietly made her way towards the Three Broomsticks, her first time visiting Hogsmeade alone. It was February 20th, the day that Fleur's family was set to arrive at Hogwarts to watch her perform in the second task. It was the reason Fleur was heading to Hogsmeade at the moment, as she wanted to greet her family as soon as possible. She had not seen them in a long time, and missed them a great deal.
The last few days had, without a doubt, been the most unproductive days Fleur had experienced in years. She could not recall so much as using magic since the 17th of February - not that she cared enough to remember.
Fleur had returned to the spot she and Harry shared by the shore every morning and evening at the respective times during which they talked or trained. Harry was nowhere to be found; it was unsurprising, yet still painful to experience.
Fleur's depression had been only increased by the fact that her sister, something she would 'surely miss', was now in a perfect position to be used for the second task. In fact, Fleur's despondency was so blatantly obvious that Madame Maxime, who Fleur had not even interacted with over the last few days (having been holed up in her room) seemed to have noticed.
The Beauxbatons headmistress had knocked on Fleur's door last morning, talking to her without entering the room. She had kindly asked Fleur if she was fine before leaving Fleur to her thoughts when the Veela gave no answer. It was not like Fleur to act in such a way around her headmistress, or anyone for that matter, but she genuinely could not bring herself to care.
I've already lost something I will 'surely miss'. It's like the second task, but without the chance of retrieving my hostage, and it certainly isn't a game.
Her fallout with Harry was made worse by the fact that Fleur entirely understood Harry's reasoning. If it were the other way around, she would certainly not impart him with knowledge that would endanger his life. It only served to make Fleur miss him even more, however, and so she pushed the thoughts aside.
And if that somehow was not enough to severely depress her, Harry's reaction to her confession was. She had seen it in his eyes; he felt the exact same way about her that she did him, regardless of whether or not he had yet realised it. But he had pushed her away, and for the sole purpose of her betterment. It was infuriatingly endearing.
Fleur made her way into the packed pub, making sure her face was obscured by her hood. It was a sign of how uncontrolled her emotions were that everyone (both students and adults) near the entrance instantly looked at her, regardless of the hood she wore. She was poorly controlling her allure, to the point where people lusted after her even when they couldn't see her face.
Fleur quickly masked her emotions. It would not do for her parents to see her in such a way. She was unwilling to let her personal problems interfere with her parents visiting.
Once most people had turned away (thankfully not having noticed who she was), Fleur daintily made her way to the back of the pub, arriving at the three large fireplaces. These were used by guests to transport in and out of the pub via Floo Powder. Beside the fireplace stood a few different groups, all likely waiting for someone to greet them.
Fleur's eyes landed on a particular group of three, one of whom seemed to be eyed by every male in the back half of the pub. The woman had a very clear resemblance to Fleur, what with her silvery blonde hair, her beautiful blue eyes. While she wasn't quite as attractive as Fleur, she was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful women most people currently within the pub would ever see.
The girl at the woman's side held a resemblance to Fleur as well. The same silvery blonde hair, her eyes a similar shade of blue as Fleur's (although not quite the same). Unlike Fleur and the woman beside her, however, the girl was not beautiful. She was immensely cute, seemingly around the age of six or seven thanks to being a Veela. In reality, the girl was nearly nine.
The last member of the group was easily the least eye-catching of the three, distinctly lacking his wife's attractiveness, as well as his youngest daughter's cuteness. The man was short, and quite plump. His hairline was receding slightly, although it was still black in colour. He had the air of a kind and jovial man, rather than the politician that he was (or, at least, he was when at work).
Fleur made her way over the group, attracting as little attention as she could. Just as she was within a few metres of the group, the woman noticed her. She nodded towards her husband before grabbing both his and her youngest daughter's hand and making her way over to Fleur. Fleur quietly turned around, making her behind the bar, where the living quarters of the pub were located. The quarters could be used by guests to have a place to stay - if paid for, of course.
"Fleur!" exclaimed an excited, high pitched voice from behind her a few moments later.
Fleur turned to the side with a smile, her arms opened wide in order to catch the blonde bullet speeding towards her.
After greeting Gabrielle, Fleur turned to her mother and father. Her mother had obscured her face with a hood by now, although Fleur was still capable of making out her facial features and expressions.
"Maman, papa!" Fleur said with a smile, giving both of her parents a hug.
"You did lovely during the first task." said her mother, Apolline, in dulcet French. She followed as Fleur led the way to one of the many rooms in the Three Broomsticks. Fleur's family had booked a room for the next week, and according to the parchment held in Apolline's hand, their room was number 1.
"Yes, I am tied for first." replied Fleur, taking the parchment from her hand and waving in front of a door with the number 1 marked upon it. The door swung open, revealing a rather luxurious and spacious room that seemed rather out of place in a bar.
"With Harry Potter, non?" asked Apolline as she looked around the room, "He was very impressive, not at all what I expected."
Fleur nodded dulling, ignoring the way her heartbeat nearly tripled in pace, as well as the sudden flow of emotions she experienced. Her palms grew warmer, her eyes slightly more avian.
Relax. Ignore it.
Fleur calmed herself down, grateful that seemingly nobody had noticed her reaction. She helped her mother unpack the belongings they had brought with them, ignoring her sister's rambling about Harry.
Fortunately, her sister quickly dropped the subject. Gabrielle had instead jumped upon one of the three beds, talking to Fleur and her father, Jean, about the upcoming task.
"It'll be brilliant!" she exclaimed cheerfully as she bounced upon the bed, eventually landing on one of the pillows, "I can't wait to see it in person!"
"You will not." said Fleur offhandedly, sitting down (much less violently than her sister) on one of the other beds, "The task will be held underwater, you will be seeing us through the Recorder Glass."
"Is that so?" asked Mr. Delacour as he packed their clothing into the closet with a flick of his wand, "Did they tell you that?"
"Non, they provided us with a message to decode. The clue told me that it would be held underwater, that is how I know."
"But that isn't fair!" exclaimed Gabrielle, now pouting with her arms wrapped around her pillow, "How are we going to watch you?"
"More importantly, how will you breathe?" said her mother, "You are a Veela, you will not be very comfortable in water."
"It will not be that bad." remarked Fleur, "Just uncomfortable, it is not as though I will not be able to use magic or anything. But I will not be able to use my flames, which are one of my greatest advantages."
"But you can make flames underwater! I know you can, you showed maman and I, remember?" said Gabrielle from her bed.
"Yes, but it requires too much magic to use it underwater, magic I can not afford to waste." said Fleur, her mother nodding as she did.
"But you have a way to breathe underwater, non?" her mother asked quickly, calming down when Fleur nodded in the positive.
Fleur spent the next two hours with her family; she would have to remain in the Beauxbatons Carriage, and was not allowed to come to Hogsmeade on any other day, so this was the majority of the time she had with them. She had received permission from Madame Maxime to show them around Hogwarts, but that was it.
The time went by fairly smoothly. The only hitch had been when Gabrielle had demanded to know more about Harry Potter, just a half hour before Fleur was meant to leave. Fleur had told her that she did not know him well enough to answer fully - a downright lie. She was not proud of lying to her sister, but at the moment she did not want to think about him. Fleur was not interested in breaking down in front of her family, after all.
A short while later Fleur found herself just outside the Beauxbatons Carriage. It was just before curfew; Fleur had taken a bit longer than she should have due to walking over to the lakeside in the hopes that Harry was there. She had received a small reprimand from Madame Maxime, who was standing outside as usual, stargazing.
Fleur entered the main room, uncaring and unsurprised to find Beauxbatons students (both male and female) in rather compromising positions. They disgusted her, giving themselves so easily to another, someone who meant nothing to them.
She didn't stop to comment, however, making it directly to her bedroom. Fleur was lucky her hood still obscured her face, as that was capable of causing potential problems for her with the students in the main living room. She collapsed into her bed, looked at the stars through the enchanted window of her room, and fell asleep.
"You know, I am starting to think this is an attempt to drown yourself." called out Salazar casually from his frame in the chamber.
The surface of the pool surrounding the large stone bust of Salazar's head rippled, a rather rude hand gesture appearing from within.
"Yes, yes, I am so very hurt, now hurry up." snapped Salazar impatiently.
The water surface splashed in all directions as Harry made his way out. The Potter heir's fingers were webbed, as were his feet. There were several slits covering his neck, working as temporary gills.
Harry fell to the floor, his body contorting as the webbing and gills slowly vanished. Once they were fully gone, Harry stood up to his full height, wincing slightly.
"It works." said Harry hoarsely, "It tastes like rat tails and shit, but it definitely works. I can breathe underwater."
"Yes, I do believe I noticed that." said Salazar dully, "It was exactly an hour, correct?"
Harry waved his hand in the direction of his wand, summoning it and waving it gently. A few digits floated in front of him, causing him to nod before drying himself off and pocketing his wand.
"Good. We have confirmed that you can swim, the Gillyweed is not fake, and are fully ready for the second task."
"Brilliant." muttered Harry sarcastically, turning around and making his way back into the study, where he found Salazar waiting in the other frame.
"Is this about Ms. Delacour?" asked Salazar in a tone that was fairly gentle for him. The two of them had previously discussed what had happened by the lakeside the other day, mainly due to Harry being incapable of focusing on his training. The portrait continued on when Harry did not respond.
"Have you thought through the pros and cons of telling her?" asked Salazar, causing Harry's eyebrows to raise slightly before narrowing.
"There is nothing good about it. There is, however, a downside, and it's her dying." said Harry with a snarl.
"If you thought about it more clearly," began Salazar with a sigh, "You would realize that the pros include maintaining and strengthening your bond with Miss Delacour, as well as making the task of defeating Voldemort significantly easier, as you will not have to rely on only yourself."
"She still gets put in danger." stated Harry firmly, "I won't risk that."
"You already have. Out of everyone alive, she knows you incredibly well, arguably the best. Any and all enemies you have that know of her existence will target her, regardless of whether or not you continue to spend time with her."
Harry's jaw tightened significantly, though no noises issued from his mouth.
"The best you can do is prepare her, you and I both know it."
"You want me to bring her to the chamber?" questioned Harry, "Have you gone mad?"
"It is a risky gamble, it is true," began Salazar, seemingly unsure of whether or not what he had said was a good idea, "But if it pays off, it will be greater than anything you could ever imagine."
Harry shook his head in annoyance, turning back to one of the bookshelves and selecting a tome. He would not let Fleur lose her life, regardless of his personal feelings on it.
The five judges of the Triwizard Tournament made their way into the Great Hall, which was now equally devoid of students and teachers (although a group of Aurors surrounded all entrances and exits, with Madam Bones waiting for them by the Goblet of Fire). It was currently two evenings before the second task, and it was also the moment during which the judges would discover who it was that the four champions would lose.
The Goblet of Fire stood proudly in the center of the room, having been brought in by a group of Aurors just moments prior. It would only remain for the next half hour at the most before it would be returned to its previous location, its blue flames extinguished once more.
It had been an immensely difficult task, relighting the Goblet of Fire for use, but it was a necessary one. The judges needed to know who each champion would be most determined to rescue, and this was, without a doubt, the solution that would provide the most accurate answer. It was only because it was being used during and for the Triwizard Tournament (and that the students in question were all currently Triwizard Champions) that such an unorthodox idea worked in the first place.
Because of the information that could (and would) be gained from the goblet, it had been decided that only the headmaster or headmistress of a respective student would be allowed to see the list of people their champion (or champions, in Dumbledore's case) would miss most. Then, they would select whoever they felt was the best candidate for the job.
Madam Bones gently placed a piece of parchment upon the Ravenclaw table, as well as a cartridge of ink. The document was to be signed by each of the headmasters (or headmistress, in Madame Maxime's case), ensuring their honesty and secrecy pertaining to the information of their champions.
In this way, they could not share what they learnt about their champions except for revealing whoever they selected as the hostage. It also meant that they could not name someone who was not on their champion's list as a hostage.
Once all three had signed, Madam Bones picked up the signed parchment and moved off to a corner of the hall, speaking quietly to three of the Aurors while carefully holding the document.
The judges all gathered around the goblet, where they waited in silence for several moments. Then, a wrinkled piece of parchment flew out of the goblet, Victor Krum's name clearly legible upon it. The names of each champion had all been entered back into the goblet in order for the judges to have a means of procuring the information they desired.
Karkaroff eagerly snatched the parchment out of the air before moving slightly away from the other judges in order to read the names on his own. Unbeknownst to the other judges, the people on Victor's list had been his mother, a friend of his, and one Hermione Granger.
Karkaroff mentally debated whom it was he would choose. Krum's mother was not an option, as she was currently busy with her work in Bulgaria. Out of two remaining names, Karkaroff was fairly certain Krum would be most determined to save Granger.
The other judges could tell that Karkaroff was not particularly pleased with at least one of the names on the list. Eventually, the headmaster of Durmstrang cleared his throat before vanishing the parchment.
"Hermione Granger." spat out the man, causing each of the other judges to nod slowly in understanding (and Dumbledore to shake his head slightly in disappointment and disapproval, likely due to the reaction of the Durmstrang Headmaster). It was evident to all that Karkaroff did not approve of the young muggleborn student, but even he knew that Krum was fond of the girl.
The judges once more turned to the Goblet of Fire, awaiting the arrival of the next list. Just mere moments later, a second piece of parchment shot from the flames, the name Fleur Delacour written beautifully in cursive across the wrinkled page.
Madame Maxime grasped the parchment with surprising grace for one of her size and stature, quickly reading the names upon her student's parchment. The remaining judges all watched with interest as the eyes of the French headmistress widened in surprise, before narrowing dangerously. It was evident that she was particularly surprised about one of the names on Fleur's list.
And surprised she was. Upon the parchment piece with Fleur's name written upon it were the names of only two people: Gabrielle Delacour and Harry Potter.
Madame Maxime was immensely interested in knowing why the second name had appeared upon the parchment. As far as she had known, Fleur had no friends; she was notorious for being cold to anyone and everyone who tried to befriend her (although, to be fair, she had a good reason for being so).
Perhaps she would visit the boy during the times she left the carriage.
Madame Maxime had seen Fleur depart from the Beauxbatons Carriage a number of times for no particular reason, though she had not thought much of it. Once or twice she had thought for just a moment that she had spotted a boy with Fleur as she returned to the carriage, though she had eventually convinced herself that her mind and eyes had been deceiving her. After all, she would be hard pressed to come up with something more unlikely.
It was quite obvious who it was she would have to choose. Harry Potter was one of the Triwizard Champions, he would have to compete. Gabrielle Delacour was not particularly difficult to contact, as she and her family were all within half an hour of walking distance from where she currently stood.
Besides, the fact that Harry Potter was one of the two people her champion would 'surely miss' was a rather big deal, and was likely not information she should hand out for no good reason. She would keep quiet, as well as respect Fleur's privacy. If she had finally gotten the companionship she so dearly desired (not that Fleur would admit it), then Madame Maxime would not meddle with it.
That did not mean, however, that Madame Maxime approved of this. She had many things about the Boy-Who-Lived, and if so much as a tenth of it was true, associating with him would likely put Fleur in danger.
"Gabrielle Delacour." she said aloud, vanishing the parchment piece. The other judges all nodded, unsurprised by the chosen person. They all turned back to the goblet, whose flames suddenly glowed red, a third piece of parchment issuing from within. The name Cedric Diggory was clearly written across the side.
Dumbledore nimbly grabbed the parchment out of the air, flipping it over to read. He was unsurprised to see that the three names that had appeared were Cho Chang, as well as the names of Cedric's parents.
"Cho Chang." announced Dumbledore, vanishing the page. It was an easy decision; Cedric was the epitome of a true Hufflepuff, and would try his hardest to rescue whoever it was that was selected for his hostage. Cho simply happened to be the easiest for them to reach.
The five judges turned back the goblet for the final time, watching as its flames glowed red once more. A wrinkled piece of parchment shot from the tongues of the flame, drifting leisurely towards Dumbledore. The name Harry Potter was written neatly upon it.
Dumbledore gently plucked it from the air, flattening it out carefully before reading the names carefully. It was only due to his mastery of Occlumency that his eyes did not widen as drastically as Madame Maxime's had moments ago. Dumbledore was starting to believe he knew what it was that had surprised Madame Maxime so much.
Upon Harry's parchment were only two names, both of which surprised him. It was the first name, however, that he suspected had something to do with Madame Maxime's surprise, and that was the name of one Fleur Delacour.
Both names were a revelation to Dumbledore, although he confessed that he did not exactly make it a point to keep up with the personal lives of his students. If the Goblet of Fire believed so, then Dumbledore would not fault its logic.
"Well?" questioned Madame Maxime, her eyes (as well as Karkaroff's and everyone else within the room) upon Dumbledore.
It was clear to all that there was something, or rather, someone unexpected that had been listed upon the wrinkled piece of parchment within Dumbledore's hands, even if his expression remained as relaxed as ever. Madame Maxime bent her own head, deep in thought.
Dumbledore gently one of the two names aloud, vanishing the parchment. Sure enough, the expressions within the hall all conveyed confusion.
"Sorry?" said Bagman, clearly unsure of whether or not he had heard Dumbledore properly, "I must've misheard you."
"I am afraid you have not."
"Preposterous!" Karkaroff exclaimed angrily, his hand shaking by his side, "Surely this can not be!"
"He can not possibly be lying." noted Mr. Crouch, "He has signed a magical oath, the name had to have been on the list."
It seemed to Dumbledore as though the other judges wanted nothing more than to argue, particularly Karkaroff, though none said a word. Instead, the five judges departed from the hall, the blue flames of the Goblet of Fire flaring out of existence.