Harry had been awake for a few minutes and the whole time he'd been wondering if it had all been a dream. Had he and Fleur really completed their rituals? And, every time they had woken through the night, had had sex?
If his nose was to be believed, and it usually was, the pungent smell of nocturnal activities confirmed it was no dream. Harry had often heard upper years say that 'it reeked of sex' but as Harry breathed in, that line of thinking appeared entirely erroneous. There was nothing unpleasant about being reminded of the mind-blowing experiences he'd engaged in with Fleur.
Literally mind-blowing. After losing his virginity, he and Fleur had been unable to do anything but pass out. Even just trying to think back to their first time was a struggle. Whether it was his ritual, or a side effect from hers, he had no idea. All he knew for sure was that both of them had blacked out after reaching a mutual high.
Harry took a moment to continue to admire the sleeping beauty resting beside him, her soft breaths were so relaxing and cute to listen to. He ran his hand down her shoulder, along her back and he couldn't help but squeeze her bum as he made his way down to where the curve of her cheek met her leg.
It was amazing having such unfettered access to her body; it just skewed with his mind that he got to run his hands anywhere on her body. He got to look at everything, up close and personal, with Fleur enjoying, even relishing and encouraging it. All his life, these moments weren't permissible. Even when Slughorn set him up for some education, it just felt wrong and off putting to a degree.
This though, this, this, felt...right.
Harry let out a yawn and didn't bother to cover his mouth, he would definitely be deprived of sleep today. He really had no idea how long things had taken and, for that matter, he had no idea what time of the day it was today. They'd slept in Fleur's bed in the carriage and the windows were charmed, the magic currently showed a starlit sky. It was only that Fleur had kept it in night mode permanently that there was darkness in the room.
Harry could check the time, he could get up and get on with his day but he didn't want to. He'd had a magical night with Fleur, literally a magical night, and he didn't want to get his bum out of bed and deal with life. Here, in bed, he could pretend the world wasn't moving on without them. He could lose himself in Fleur's body, their mutual pleasure, and not deal with the consequences of their actions.
Really, Harry just couldn't keep his eyes off of Fleur, she was too exquisite, too stunning, and he wished this would never end. But, he knew it had to, and more than likely, soon.
At least, with Fleur asleep, he could just be lazy and not get up yet. Though it didn't' stop his mind from being active.
When he'd told Slughorn that he was going to go after Fleur, he hadn't anticipated this would be the scene he'd woke up to the next day. At best, Harry had hoped to clear the air between them and have her open to the idea of being with him again. He'd asked Slughorn to mention it to Patrice, as they were meeting later that day, but he hadn't expected to wake up thoroughly sated. Now, he was quite possibly fucked to some degree, and not the happy kind of fucked, his unforgettable night with the goddess beside him may be about to cause him as much trouble as it had brought him pleasure.
As his mind began to wake up and function normally, he realized that Fleur had told him that they were essentially married now. If she was to be taken quite that seriously, and he didn't have much of a reason to doubt her, then Harry had just married the Delacour Heiress without talking to her parents first or having anything done in writing. Sure, they had essentially come to an agreement previously but that wasn't the same as a signed, sealed, and delivered contract.
Harry leaned back and groaned. Slughorn had literally provided training so he wouldn't just go and have sex without sorting out the consequences first!
Yet, looking over at the beauty laid bare beside him, he had a hard time finding fault with his actions, even less to find them to have been disagreeable. While he was concerned about skipping a rather important step, Harry didn't think that this would balloon into a large issue. In fact, he assumed that it would be far less of an issue than it would have been for the Greengrass family or, especially, for the Pavlov family.
As he continued to let his mind run wild with all of the possible consequences for his rash actions, he noticed Fleur begin to stir, again.
"Morning 'arry," Fleur murmured as she rolled onto her side, a tired smile blossoming on her face.
"Morning." Harry replied as he leaned down to softly kiss her while his hand cupped her breast, giving it a soft squeeze, his knuckles playing with her nipple.
"'Arry," She moaned and quickly scooted her hips over to his, wrapping her legs around his, putting them in as much contact as possible without having one of them on top of the other. "We, we, c-c-can't..." she couldn't help but moan again as Harry had begun kissing down from her ear to the base of her neck, his hands neve idle on her body.
"I know," Harry said dejectedly, his morose tone was tinged with deep regret, "we need to...talk." Harry didn't stop his ministrations and he grinned when Fleur's hand took hold of his and kept it from continuing to work her body.
"'Arry!" She squealed when he pinched her nipple again.
"If you are lying next to me, in bed, naked, with your tits out, you can't blame me for reacting." While he was serious, there was an undertone of teasing as an easy grin formed on his face, his eyes shining in mirth.
"Would you prefer I cover up, 'arry, or will you just get up?" Fleur challenged back, her left eyebrow arched and she pushed out her chest, amplifying Harry's draw to her chest.
"Never," he replied, both of them knowing full well that it was time for them to do more than have sex.
"Should we get up?" She questioned, not sounding pleased with the idea at all. Harry imagined the pout he heard in her voice but his eyes weren't leaving her jutted out chest. Fleur, seeing where his attention was, rocked her body and made a point of enticing him as best as she could.
Harry saw what she was doing and didn't fight the automatic response he had. He immediately grabbed hold of her and rolled onto his back, pulling Fleur on top of him. Both of his hands went to her breasts and he pulled Fleur down for a heated kiss.
Fleur broke the kiss giggling. "When I say get up I mean out of bed, not…" she didn't say anything as she pressed her hips down into his erection. She put her hands on his chest and kissed him, lifting her pelvis off him. Abruptly, Fleur ended the kiss and almost bounced off the bed, towards the bathroom.
Harry groaned as she disappeared around the corner, she had swayed her hips and turned to look at him just before disappearing, winking at him after leering at his new predicament. Harry dropped his head back into the pillow and groaned. Oh, how he wished it was the type of groan he'd just learned that comes from the wonderful feeling of being inside of Fleur.
Right, thinking about that wasn't going to help either.
Harry quickly decided the best thing for him would be to get up and put some of his clothes on. He had just put his boxers on when Fleur came out, naked as the day she was born, and looked at him bewildered.
"You didn't 'ear the shower running? I thought you'd join me, non?" She pushed out her lower lip into a pout, her eyes widening. "If you'd rather not, I guess I'll just have to wash myself…" Her hands trailed across her body, down her sides, over her hips and then up her taut stomach to her chest, pushing her breasts up and together. As if that wasn't enough to get Harry into a shower with her, Fleur pressed him with one final offer, "There are things we 'aven't done yet, 'arry. Maybe I'll show you 'ow skilled my mouth really is," she licked her lips and winked at him, continuing to hold her breasts with her hands, before throwing her head back and giggling at how Harry had responded, or the lack of it. She quickly turned on her heels and trotted off to the bathroom, leaving Harry behind who was struggling to get his clothes back off as he went to follow her.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
After the best showering experience of Harry's life, the two had returned to Fleur's room where she dressed herself in clean clothes, making a show of it, and Harry threw on the same ones he had worn the previous day. He followed her out but came to an abrupt stop.
"Mon Dieu!" The Delacour Heiress exclaimed when she came out into what used to be the main living area.
Lying down on the remnants of the couch was Cuddles. All around her was trashed furniture, some broken, some burned and other smashed apart. What was most strange, to Harry, was that Cuddles wasn't small. Cuddles was at least ten feet tall and not how he had left her.
Harry stifled a laugh, Fleur had her hand clasped over her mouth and she looked crestfallen that her room had been destroyed. Harry, having lived with the dragon for a while now, was rather used to this sort of issue.
"It's okay, you'll get used to this with Cuddles around," Harry chuckled in mild amusement. He stepped forward and placed his hand on Cuddles, shrinking her back down to the usual size before he called forth his magic. Giving a garish wave of his wand, he used a non-verbal spell to put the room back to rights. All the pieces began to re-assemble and within ten seconds, the room was back to normal.
Fleur shot Harry a smile, 'Thanks 'arry," she said looking at him before glaring at Cuddles. Though the glare softened as the little dragon flapped its wings and flew into her chest, ending up with Fleur cradling the little dragon.
"Suck up," Harry muttered, he'd seen this routine before. Cuddles destroying something and then acting all cute and cuddly so that you couldn't remain angry with her at all.
Harry led the way to the table and smiled as an assortment of food appeared on the table. "Thanks, Dobby."
"Dobby, your elf?" Fleur questioned, sitting down beside him, not relinquishing her grip on Cuddles as her free hand stroked the little bundle of destruction that was held on her torso.
"Yeah, he likes to...er...well, do this." Harry motioned his hand to the spread of food, his usual breakfast favorites were there but also a selection of food he assumed must be amongst Fleur's. She sat there, a little dumbfounded at it all, clearly not having expected it. Harry knew it wasn't the extravagance of the options for breakfast, she was a Delacour and would have had something like this regularly at home growing up.
"Bien," the Delacour Heiress said with a shrug, accepting it for what it was.
As Harry began to eat, and pile his plate full of food, he was doing his best to keep from bouncing in his seat. He wanted to know how the ritual had affected his magic, what he had gained and given to Fleur. Ever since it popped up in his head, he was itching to see if she had become a parselmouth.
Harry decided that he should just go for it, ~"Hello?"~
Fleru looked up at him sharply, her fork pausing it's motions, halfway to her mouth.
~"Did you understand me?"~ Harry quickly followed up. She had either been startled by him hissing or she understood him. Parseltongue always sounded weird, even to his ears.
"Oui," Fleur said, the fork in her hand shaking slightly as it was still paused in mid air.
It was one thing for Daphne to be able to read books written in parseltongue, it would be quite something else, entirely, for Fleur to be able to speak parseltongue. He had always heard of how it was the trait of a Dark wizard. He was ostracized for it and the only other person to have the ability was, literally, a Dark Lord.
Harry's heart soared, she understood him. She would be able to speak it!
~"This is parseltongue"~ Harry hissed at her, a huge smile forming on his face.
He couldn't believe it! The ritual worked and gave Fleur something incredible!
"I can understand it? But, not speak it?" Fleur questioned, her head tilted and eyes narrowed in confusion.
Harry looked at her and then thought back to how he had first talked to snakes. Harry whipped out his wand and quickly conjured a serpent.
~"Talk to the snake,"~ he encouraged her, his mouth forming back into the face-splitting grin. Nobody could dare call him a dark wizard if Fleur Delacour was a parseltongue with him! Actually, they might well do just. Paint her as a Dark Lady, a part human beast that was more creature than human, already a Veela and now a parselmouth.
Harry suppressed a shudder as he thought about that possibility. They really might need to keep this quiet. Plus, how would they explain to the public that Fleur became a parselmouth? There is no chance the Delacour or Veela, who have no history of it, would suddenly develop one.
~"Hello?"~ Fleur hissed in parseltongue back.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
"And this is where I spend most of my time," Harry said, showing Fleur into the Salazar's study. He had gotten her to be able to speak parseltongue, opening the entrance to the chamber and second door into the main area but she had been unable to gain entry into the Salazar protected space. He still had to be here to allow anyone entry, to have kept the door open. Fleur's parselmouth ability wasn't enough to allow her entry, it came down to the bloodline.
She had been excited and unimpressed all at the same time. Seeing the fabled Chamber of Secrets and then finding out that it isn't quite as interesting as you had built it up in your mind was amusing. While the main chamber was impressive, it was never quite up to the mythical levels people's expectations built it up to.
While Harry would agree with the assessment, minus the ridiculous snake guarding it, what was actually hidden was far more impressive. The parseltongue library and training center was otherworldly. How it operated still was not known to Harry. He hoped that after the final ritual he'd find out more about it.
"Are any of the books...glowing?" It was kind of hard to describe what Harry saw, with new content to be read. He couldn't help his eyes from drifting over to the desk, where the books of rituals that he worked through sat. Unsurprisingly, the ritual he was supposed to have completed next was now scheduled for the next ritual day. It was annoying how it knew he had done the ritual with Fleur.
How was that possible?
The Virginity Rituals had always been off in the special set and there were still rituals that were unknown to him, which was, by now, quite normal.
Fleur frowned and looked around, her eyes following him and she gave a subtle shake of her head after looking over the desk. Harry watched as she walked around and appeared to be drawn to a bookshelf in particular. She bent down and plucked a book off the bottom shelf.
It was a book he recognized. The beginnings of the understanding of magic, the four pillars.
Huh, if that first book was any indication, she would, probably, be able to work through the same education that he did but not the rituals.
Harry walked toward Fleur and read over her shoulder. It was interesting that the contents were purely on magic, there were no blurbs or things from Salazar in there, about his personal life. This was purely an academic book, though still written in parseltongue.
"Fleur," Harry gently said her name, trying to draw her attention.
"Hmm?" she responded after a moment, not looking up from the book she was studying.
"Fleur," he repeated, more forcefully this time.
It was of no use though, she was engrossed in the book.
"Fleur," he repeated a third time, this time gently grabbing her chin and turning it. "You can keep reading and studying in a moment. You need to learn about parseltongue first though."
Irritation flashed through her eyes before she resigned herself to listening. She closed the book but didn't put it back, the silver-blonde kept the book, tucking it in between her arm and torso as she followed Harry back to his desk.
Harry withdrew Cuddles from his pocket and enlarged her to the little dragon's preferred hunting size. He watched her fly off to go rat hunting. At some point the chamber must have its rat populations depleted, right? Perhaps Dobby was bringing in more?
The impatient tapping of fingernails brought him out of his thoughts as Fleur was waiting and mildly glaring at him.
Harry smiled faintly and then began to explain. "Parseltongue isn't just a language for talking to snakes. It is a far greater gift than that. The book you are reading was written by Salazar Slytherin."
The new parselmouth's jaw unhinged and went slightly open. Harry thought she knew this, or had suspected it, but it was still quite something for her to have this pointed out about the book she was holding.
It was something Harry had kind of gotten used to. Being in the personal dwelling of one of the founders of Hogwarts had lost its shine over time. But, for anyone new, it was a wondrous thing. He recalled Daphne being just as amazed as Fleur.
"What is even more important, is that parseltongue is a magical language. You aren't reading what he wrote, word for word, you are learning and gaining his understanding." Harry had a broad grin on his face, he was happy he was able to share this with someone else.
"I...don't understand?" Her eyes were narrowed but her lips were pouting.
"I understood it like the difference between me telling you how to fly a broom, with words, and me imparting all my skill and intuitive understanding, for flying, that I've learned over the years." It was fun being on the other side of things. He could see why teaching could be a rewarding career, watching Fleur's eyes light up with joy was infectious.
It took a little while longer to get Fleur up to speed on parseltongue and she was enraptured with the place now, curled up in a chair by the fire studying. The one interesting discovery was that the curriculum was not the same as his. It was almost as if there was a way for the Chamber to be aware of how learned they are.
It was one of the things that he had wanted to investigate but it was one he had made virtually no progress on. When he didn't yet know how to even create parseltongue books, he would have no real understanding for what was possible when constructing a chamber like this.
After making sure Fleur was settled and after realizing she was entirely engrossed in her studying, Harry went to go and complete his spellwork for the day. Cuddles, as she was wont to do, joined him, doing her best to deflect spells with her magic resistant hide.
This part of the day was always so much fun. At one point he had worried that doing spellwork everyday would become monotonous but that hadn't been the case. Today, he was doing a different setup, one he called the blitz. Four paces and four hundred moving targets. There were never more than two or three that popped up at a time.
What was more challenging about it was that the targets which were available for him to destroy, were moving in and out of objects and being randomly shielded. He couldn't just send a single hex at every target. Even if he did that, then some perfect shots would not destroy them every time. If he wanted to take them down in a single series of successive spells, Harry had to blast the shield and then hit the target.
Every day wasn't the exact same exercise. Harry believed that varied exercises, including ones where the targets fired back spells, would prepare him better for wizarding combat. The methodology for the combat style was abundantly obvious. Strike hard, strike fast, and put them down, permanently. In fact, many of the spells were simplistic. The penetrating hex was designed to bore holes and it would work even more effectively than it had on the acromantula in the Second Task.
The one training routine he was having regular difficulty with was the recognition of target blasting when they randomly popped up, vanishing after a mere second, and only some were the ones he was supposed to destroy. The color pattern, for which to destroy and which to not, change every exercise and weren't in a set pattern.
In a way that was very good, in another it was really annoying. If it had been red for destruction and green for leave alone then he might be accidentally training himself to blast red and leave green alone. Whereas, if the point is recognition of friend versus foe, then he needed to train his mind to think and recognize before blasting.
Flitwick had been a major help, designing the exercises and lending him the equipment to set it up. While Salazar's works had begun training him and developing his style, Harry had noticed they had eventually stopped progressing him.
The library wasn't filled with ever increasing difficulties of magic until all manners of powerful spells were taught. In fact, the lack of powerful spells was becoming rather conspicuous in its own right. It was appearing more and more to Harry that it was teaching mastery over one's own magic, thanks to the parseltongue tutelage, but was not progressing one beyond a profound understanding of magic.
There were no instructions for magic that were near as difficult as what he was learning with McGonagall or Flitwick. There was not a cache of dark spells or long forgotten magic that would allow him to dominate a battlefield. It was frustrating, for Harry, as he wanted to have the ability to stand alone against a situation like the Second Task and have no fear for his survival.
Harry called Cuddles over, it was time to get this started. He placed his hand on the larger than normal dragon and increased her size even more. She grew, her upper shoulders rose about six feet off the ground, not when she was a good size. There was correlation between her size and the ability to reflect spells. As a tiny dragon she couldn't stand up to spellfire nearly as well as she could at the largest sizes Harry had made her.
Cuddles flew off, her wings generating wind as she moved away from him. They were lucky the Chamber was so large, Cuddles wouldn't be able to fly around at this size otherwise. With everything set, Harry began.
Three targets popped up and Harry strained to see if his magical sensing ability could tell which ones were shielded. Flitwick had been astounded by his progress in magical sensing. He claimed his rapid rise in skill had been like nothing he had ever heard of before. Harry wasn't complaining about it, not at all. He was pushing himself every day and doing his best to break the expectations his tutors were setting for him.
Day after day he toiled in the chamber; day after day he read his books and studied until sleep was a necessity he couldn't ignore.
Even now, with Fleur over in the other room, he could be going after physical gratification and not exhausting training.
With grim determination Harry continued blasting at the targets, his wand a blur of motion, streaks of light, magic, burst from his wand. The fast, accurate and successive spell groupings were the result of hours of work.
He could see how his efforts were paying off, the next set of three appeared with a flash as Harry had deftly dodged Cuddles' move to block his spells by feinting right before shooting left. The rate at which he could blast out spells, the precision of his targeting and his ability to sense and nullify magic were giving him confidence.
Yet, with all this training, he still felt lacking.
Dumbledore had his transfiguration that could turn the tide of a battle. His monstrous creations could single handedly stop a force of wizards on its own. Grindelwald...Maginot Rouge. There was nothing more needed to be said than this. The skill and mastery of their magic was something that was on a level that was still beyond him.
Dumbledore had transfiguration, Grindelwald had charms and Voldemort had power and depravity to make themselves known.
What did he have?
Was there some flavor of magic that he could master beyond what others are capable of?
McGonagall was a Dumbledorian within the school of Transfiguration. She had learned from him directly and, from what he knew, neither the headmaster had held anything back and neither was her tutoring withholding knowledge from him. The cat animagus just simply did not have the power and precision to match Dumbledore. Where the man could animate and charm huge statues with the flick of his wand, McGonagall could do it but it took time and taxed her heavily.
Could he become a miniature Dumbledore? Could he hope to match his premitary prowess?
Flitwick was teaching him more in the style of Gellert Grindelwald. He was learning to duel, to sense and redirect magic. He was being taught how to use charms in ways that others simply could not. The former duelling champion was putting him through his paces and there was even talk of combining some lessons with McGonagall.
Then there was Salazar's tutelage. There was no doubt, by this point, that the rituals were turning him into a powerhouse. His endurace was incredible, his power astounding, and his recovery unreasonable. He could spend hours blasting away at spells where it would have left others beyond exhausted.
Still, it wasn't enough.
His hope that Fleur had given him some sort of magical talent was waning. His charms were as good as they ever were, no better. His transfiguration was in much of the same boat. Unless he had gained some form of allure, and neither Fleur or he could tell that he had, then he didn't know what else he could've gained.
His hair was still the same unruly mess that it always was. He hadn't even gained silver-blond tips to make him look unique and cool!
He had expected his round of spell work to have shown something. Yet, it had not. Harry knew the ritual worked. Fleur was a parselmouth; there was no other conclusion to draw.
The green eyed young man didn't let it dwell in his mind too long. It did something and he would find out at some point. For now, he would stay on task and focus on what he could control. He could focus on how hard he worked and putting himself in the best position possible.
Harry continued his spellwork at a relentless pace. Sweat rolled down his face, his heart beat a hard steady rhythm and he kept up his work. Target after target went down, rarely, if ever, did he hit Cuddles. The dragon, by this point, just liked to mess around. At the size required to keep her from taking damage from spells, she wasn't very agile and was mostly just a large moving obstacle to work around.
How long he continued, he wasn't sure. Often Daphne would come down join him at lunch, as or he'd have Dobby pop in on him and the immensely helpful elf would bring his, and Cuddles', food here. So, when Fleur came in and wrapped him up in a hug, Harry was a bit surprised.
"It is time for lunch, non?" she asked, wrinkling her nose at how lovely Harry must smell. To her credit, Fleur didn't break physical contact with the sweaty wizard, leaving her hand to rest on his off-hand. With her face upturned in distaste, she flicked her wand at him, giving Harry a fresh smell and eradicating the sweat and grime.
After calling Cuddles back to himself, he began shrinking her down and pecked Fleur on the lips as he did so. She smiled brightly at him and Harry couldn't help but return it. It was a wonder that this amazing young woman was before him, with him.
Taking a moment to breathe in her scent, he grabbed hold of her hand and made to go back to the study to eat.
~"Was your studying productive?~" Harry asked, enjoying conversing in a language he had never used as a means of communicating with another person. Whilst Daphne could understand it, with the locket on, she could not speak it back to him.
Fleur abruptly tugged on his hand and turned to face him, her face full of cheerful joy. ~"Yes"~ She hissed back at him and after opening her mouth she slowly shut it, not making a sound. She pulled her wand out and began to spout out a stream of water.
Harry watched as Fleur's face was a mask of concentration, the stream of water floating out of her wand, as if creating a river in mid air, a smile blossomed on her lips as she gave a slight swish of her wand. The water crystalized, turning to clear ice.
Harry's eyes broke away from hers, green leaving blue, and he looked at what Fleur was now floating just off the tip of her wand, such precise control.
What had been a seemingly random spout of water had been anything but. A little ice replica of Cuddles was not floating in between them.
"I get it now…" she paused, animating the opposite of Cuddles, "Transfiguration 'as always been so 'ard. But, now…" she stopped again and covered her mouth with her hand as Cuddles was flying after her animated sculpture. Fleur giggled as the ice dragon didn't outfly Harry's familiar and failed to avoid the jet of flames.
Harry cringed as Fleur's dragon wasn't going to stand up to dragonfire well, that was, until he saw that it had. He immediately turned a questioning gaze as Cuddles tore after the escaping ice dragon, into the main chamber.
"Now, I understand why. I understand 'ow to move past the barriers that 'ad bound me," her countenance was such that Harry was questioning if there would be a gaze of light and a halo would be revealed, adorning her head. Her happiness was infectious and he found her joy beautiful.
Fleur darted after the two dragons, using Harry's hand and pulled him along. She bounced to the chamber, yanking Harry with her, and then she watched, somewhat in awe, as the two miniature sized dragons raced.
As Harry took in the sight, he fondly remembered Cuddles and Fawkes playing chase in the chamber here as well. He loved Cuddles but Fawkes would always have a special fondness in his heart.
They had been on their way to lunch and it appeared as though Dobby was insistent that it was time to eat. A single table and two chairs had appeared and Harry noted there was his usual lunch and he sat down opposite Fleur. Harry didn't know if she had been asked what she would like but Fleur appeared pleased with her selection of food.
"How long will your transfiguration last?" Harry asked, after having the first few bites, his eyes continually drifting to the dragons that were evenly matched, as far as agility and speed but Cuddles' mental prowess was far greater, her strategies effortlessly paying off. Though, for the time being, she was having fun and wasn't actively trying to destroy the ice dragon or use her advantage to make the game uncompetitive.
"They normally last a while," she remarked, not actually answering the question. "I do not know for zis one. I've never been able to do something so complex with such ease, it is as though my mastery of magic 'as suddenly changed," a tinkling laugh accompanied her words as she was still elated by the magical gift she had received.
It made Harry frown, however, thinking about such things. He had no indication as to what he may have received as of yet. "Do you know what I may have gotten from the ritual?" He had not asked this morning. They had been flirty and touchy, basking in the change in their relationship, though neither had been willing to discuss it too heavily.
Fleur's lips thinned in thought. "No males ever get a form of the allure, or so I am told," she shrugged as if she was not fully sure herself. "Your 'air is not silver…can you feel emotions?" She questioned, offering up her hand, for him to grasp, across the small table they were sharing, the two dragons still screeching and giving chase to one another.
Harry held out his hand and closed his eyes in concentration before he grasped hers. There were no directions that he could follow and he tried to do something that was akin to his magical sensing. He let the feeling of magic come forth amongst all his senses. He yearned to feel something, he willed himself to even be able to gauge her mood, and all he was able to do was to feel the softness of her hands and remember how they had excitedly explored his body a few precious hours ago.
Harry sighed in frustration as he opened his eyes, though he did not relent his grip on her hand. "No, it is not that gift." While it may have been rather useful for politics and discerning the truth of someone's words he had hoped for a gift that would lend him aid in his quest to match the titans of magic he may one day draw his wand on.
Fleur's eyebrows scrunched and pushed towards each other. "Then I can only think of fire." The young Veela appeared amused as Harry's eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. "There have been rumors, for many years, that Veela can conjure fire, throw fireballs and, when thoroughly enraged, transform into an avian creature with a cruel beak, wings and fiery presence."
Harry nodded unsurely, his eyes narrowed slightly, the manner in which the French witch was telling him was one of gaiety, not serious in the least.
"I used fire in the forest because it is what I am most skilled with. Veela 'ave an affinity for it." Fleur informed him and cast a wordless fire spell. She tucked her wand away, still feeding the magical fire with her magic, fire that was about a foot tall and half as much wide, and began to expand it, mold it, and shape it.
Harry smiled gently, enjoying seeing such a skilled witch in action. There were no doubts in his mind that she had earned her place in the tournament as her school's representative.
"I can multiply fire, shape it and control it without my wand, once it is made."
Harry watched her demonstrate and thought it was very similar to what Harry himself had been able to do for some time now. He wasn't sure that it wasn't something that Salazar had passed on to him but now he considered that it might have been the effect of having Cuddles.
He thought back to the forest and recalled how devastating Fleur had been with her usage of fire. She had lit her entire side on fire and used it to shape the battlefield to something that was, for the most part, defensible. Harry hadn't dwelled on that memory or really considered just how the Beauxbatons Champion had been able to do what she did. Could others have done it? Could he have?
He could manipulate and shape fire with mere thoughts of his. He could not conjure it, he could not create dragon fire but he could multiply, shape and control it, much like Fleur. If he already possessed a fire affinity then could he have gained more of it from Fleur? Would it have passed on something he already had and not made any changes?
There was one way to find out. "Mind if I try?" Harry asked as he pulled out his own wand. He called Cuddles back to himself as he would be wanting to experiment with her fire shortly. When the little ice dragon came screeching after and making a dive at Cuddles, who was just landing on Harry's shoulder, Harry lifted his arm, pointed the wand at the little creature and then began to neutralize it. He could feel the spells, intent and will that Fleur had put into it and unravelled them with his magic. The ice dragon ceased to exist.
Fleur's bottom lip was protruded and she was pouting at him. "Did you 'ave to do that, 'arry?"
Harry shrugged as he didn't feel like indulging her playful pouting. To him, the possibility of having gained access to greater abilities at controlling fire were of far too much importance to allow him to be distracted. Though, he frowned, there were some fire based spells he'd used in his work this morning, not to mention Cuddle's own fireballs. There was nothing he had noticed but he had also not been focused on it as well.
Harry increased Cuddles' size and she shrieked in delight, jumping off his shoulder as the little dragon wasn't small enough for her favorite perch anymore. She landed just in front of him and turned towards the main chamber. Harry now took up a standing position behind her and silently had her spout a short burst of flames. With just his hands, and not all that much concentration, he had it curl up, redirecting it in a tight circle towards them both. He parted his two hands next and the line of flames that had been closing on him fast went out to each side, splitting evenly.
Harry kept up his work as this had been something he had been working on. Having a fire breathing familiar was too valuable. He had to find a way to increase his deadliness with his stalwart protector. Thinking back to the Second Task, if he was faced with such a challenge now it would go so very differently. With that in mind, he decided to try his hand at what he had been working on. By this point, the two jets of flames had been going in opposite directions and were circling the chamber.
Harry looked down at Cuddles and cupped his chin with a solemnity that didn't match what was happening. This is where he had progressed to and had been unable to get it to work. He could control Cuddle's fires, he could control basic fire of his own but he hadn't had the ability to control overwhelming amounts of it.
With a simple clenching his fist the fire in the room died out and Harry prepared himself, taking a deep slow breath and shutting his eyes while he did so. "You may want to be ready with a shield…Sometimes it gets a bit…hot," Harry, himself, was ready to shield things. Without needing to look at or command Cuddles, the dragon shot a single large fireball out of her mouth and it began.
A strong fire-resistant shield was put up and then Harry connected with the dragon fire. He infused his will, his intent, his creativity and, most of all, his magical power. The first thing he did was snatch control of it and kept it from moving forward and crashing into the far wall of the Chamber. It wasn't difficult and he took control of it, keeping it floating in the middle of the large space they were in.
The real troubles started now. Harry could only control so much fire actively. It had been what stalled his progress. He could manipulate fire and then leave it doing something but he couldn't control vast amounts of fire. Though Harry had never tried it, as of yet, his issues were like downsides of Fiendfyre, in large amounts it was uncontrollable, untameable.
Harry began to multiply it and he worked to keep it simplistic, just a large circle motion for the fire to follow. He tried to picture it like he was making a potion and stirring the contents to go in a counter-clockwise motion.
The fire kept growing, from the size of a small car to the size of a lorry. From a lorry to the width of a small home. Ever more it grew; the entire chamber filled with fire. Slowly, like a ball just starting to roll down down the top of the hill the mass gained momentum and began to churn. It was such a slow thing at first, the fire looked as though it was still stationary, but second by second it began to turn.
"Mon dieu"
A voice spoke out from behind him but Harry's concentration couldn't be broken, he had to keep this going, to find his limit. Harry continued to pour it on, to fill the space with fire, swirling, compacting and under his nominal control.
"'Arry, you need to stop," he heard Fleur say as she held onto him from behind, her two hands on his shoulders.
Harry shook his head. His whole focus was on the fire in front of him. Sweat was accumulating across his body, droplets of it fell down his face. He could tell the exertion was taking his toll but he wanted to reach his limit and knew, from vast experience, that the shield would hold.
He lost himself in the fire, a large grin on his face all the while. How long it continued for he didn't know. His mind was fully engrossed in the fire. Rotating wasn't enough anymore, the space couldn't take anymore fire. As he tried to create a space without fire, right down the middle of the Chamber, his control lapsed and the fire burned wild. With nothing but stone and an impregnable barrier it soon petered out.
"Incroyable, impossible. Ce n'est pas possible…," Fleur was now hugging Harry from behind, her arms wrapped around his ribs, and her mouth whispering the words.
Harry took a moment to let his body calm down and, wriggling, he turned around and initiated a searing kiss with Fleur.
"I can do it; I can really do it," Harry whispered, his lips brushing against hers as he spoke.
"'Arry, 'ow did you do that? Even a full blooded Veela cannot do such things," her quiet words were laced with fright, or, perhaps, astonishment.
"Ever since I got Cuddles, I've been able to control fire…But the gift I got from you must've been your affinity for fire," Harry stated slowly, thinking through the ramifications of that.
"Non, no Veela can do that," Fleur replied, still in a bit of a state of disbelief.
Harry stepped back, so they weren't almost nose to nose anymore, and shrugged. "Has a Veela ever had a partner like Cuddles?"
Fleur narrowed her eyes in thought, "Non?" She wasn't a scholar of her ancestors.
Harry moved and put his hands on Cuddles, shrinking her back so she could perch on his shoulder, like she loved to do before following up on his question with Fleur. While that was a part of it, his actions were buying him time to order his thoughts and decide what to reveal.
"Cuddles isn't normal…" he began with the blatantly obvious statement, "She's almost a part of me. She's an extension of my magic and the result of a botched ritual." Harry gestured back to the table, inviting them to sit where it would be more comfortable before talking further.
"The ritual was supposed to grant me like a power boost. Dragon's have incredibly dense magic, in the make-up of their being, and it was supposed to increase the density of my own magic." Harry shifted in his chair, this wasn't something he relished admitting out loud.
"The ritual called for me to not have anything magical with me when I did it. After painting the runes on the dragons I went back to my ritual chamber and had forgotten I had nicked the dragon figurine, like the one you were given of your Welsh Green."
"That's why you asked to see my dragon figurine, when you first came to my family home?" Fleur asked, connecting the dots from an earlier conversation with him.
Harry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah."
"I was an imbecile and am lucky to have lived through it. Botching a ritual like that should have had dire consequences, not given me a great friend." Harry frowned, it was another instance of luck versus skill, the very thing he was trying to move away from, so his life wasn't ever life to chance.
Fleur reached out and rubbed the hand that was sitting on the empty table that Dobby had cleared while they were otherwise occupied. "But what is she," Fleur dipped her head in Cuddle's direction, "if she was a figurine and not alive?" Harry gave her a soft smile, that was the ever present question that he had spent considerable time pondering, researching.
"I think, and this is an educated guess, that when the Horntail died, and I was taking in some of her power, essence, that Cuddles received, or became, part of that dragon. Like an echo of her lives on in Cuddles." Harry's cheeks were pinched up as he finished, his eyebrows knit together.
"But she's not a normal dragon," Fleur commented, prompting Harry for further explanations.
"No," his chin went left and then right, before returning to facing straight towards the young part-veela, "without my magic, I don't think she could survive on her own. It is my magic that is connected to her, it sustains her and gives her abilities."
"So she's a part of you?" Seeing his Harry flowy dip his chin she followed it up, "What does that even mean?" Her head tilted to the left as her wide blue eyes stared at him in unrestrained fascination, her hand still holding his.
"I don't rightly know," Harry admitted freely. "I know her body is far denser with magic than my own and that with enough of me feeding her, from my own magic, that she becomes more draconic. Her scales harden against magic and physical attacks, her fire gets hotter and more destructive, and she's more…wild. It's almost as if I can empower her, empower the remnant or echo of the horntail's soul."
Harry was going to continue speaking more but he quirked his head as he heard a faint noise of vibration coming from Fleur. He looked to see the source of it.
Fleur stood up, her face showing shock and distress as she frantically ran her fingers through her hair, searching for something. She pulled out a small item that was the exact color of her hair. If she hadn't taken it out, from somewhere within her hair Harry would have never had a chance of noticing it, it blended in perfectly.
"I must go. Maman and Papa will be frantic."
"Why? What is that?" Harry asked as he got up out of his seat, Fleur had already stood up.
"It's my tracker. It sends a signal periodically and I can set it off if I'm in distress…" Fleur was staring at the small device in her hand, turning it over, bemused by what was going on with it.
"And it's going off now?" Harry asked, not quite understanding that when it hadn't actually gone off, from what he could feel or tell. There was a faint feel of magic from it but no more and no sound.
"Non, it's...not able to communicate...properly?" Fleur more asked than said.
That triggered it within Harry's mind. This is the Chamber of Secrets and the hallowed halls of Salazar Slytherin had magic in place to protect people from being tracked here. It had happened to Daphne and now it was happening to Fleur.
"The Chamber is protecting its privacy," Harry stated, nodding in confirmation with certainty.
"I need to go, 'arry, I need to let them know I'm okay."
Just as Harry was about to respond a flash caught their attention and Fawkes was before, crying a song of great merriment upon seeing Cuddles. The majestic phoenix swooped down and dropped a note right into Fleur's startled hands.
Harry's eyes followed his familiar as she tore after her favorite playmate, shrieks of joy and a squawk of surprise as Cuddles already managed to tag Fawkes with a playful nip at his long tail feathers.
"Papa is 'ere. 'E's with Dumbledore and 'e wants an explanation and to ensure I'm alright. Apparently Dumbledore told him 'e believes I am with you," Fleur frowned at the note before looking up at him.
"Dumbledore would know. This happened the first time Daphne came down here too," Harry informed her and the thought occurred to him that it hadn't happened to Natalia. He thought, of the three of them, she would've been the most likely to have this issue. The only real consideration as to why she may not have, might stem from Ivan not having a cordial relationship with Dumbledore, or a reason to suspect Harry had been at the castle with his daughter…He'd have to think on it more.
"Do you want to write a note back?" Harry asked and then added, "Fawkes would surely take it," the bird in question gave a short trill while neatly slowing its momentum to make the overzealously pursuing Cuddles fly past, missing Fawkes entirely.
"Non. I should go; come with me?" she asked, her voice light and hopeful.
Harry shook his head right away, he couldn't go right now. He had to deal with some of the fall out of his retrospectively rash actions and some time to reflect and have some solace from the storm that was about to come sounded great. The only real worry he had was that Daphne was going to come down, into the Chamber.
"I should finish my studying."
"Come for dinner tonight? I want...need...to tell maman and papa about us."
Harry could hear some disappointment in her voice, hope as well. "Of course."
"Stay the night with me too?" she questioned, her lips forming into a teasing smirk.
"Of course," he repeated the previous reply but this time with a large grin tugging onto his own lips. It wasn't a proposition he was planning on turning anytime in the immediate future, that was for sure.
She strode forward quickly and gave him a searing kiss. Fleur took two steps away from him then abruptly stopped. "'Ow do I get out?" she asked, turning back towards him.
Harry glanced at Fawkes and saw the highly intelligent bird was drifting down towards them, Cuddles herself was lazily following after him.
"You'll take her back?" Harry asked, looking at the bird.
Fawkes gave a positively happy trill in reply and Harry ducked his head in acknowledgement. "Right, grab a tail feather Fleur and say hi to everyone for me," he gave her a cheeky grin as she warily looked at the bird.
As if shrugging to herself, Fleur changed from wary skepticism to general acceptance and reached up to take hold of a tail feather when she paused just shy of reaching it. "I forgot to tell you, Daphne came down while you were doing your spellwork." A small smile appeared on her face, "I don't think she was pleased I was down here and didn't stay."
Harry's eyes widened at Fleur's words and he wondered if there was an ulterior motive to not telling him until she was leaving. After saying farewell, Fleur was flashed away by Fawkes.
Harry let out a long sigh, he should probably find Daphne, talk with Slughorn and then meet with the Delacours...his new in-laws...?
His shoulders drooped and he let out another long breath. With the good always came the bad and in the end, he always knew he was going to get fucked, it was just how his luck worked. But, for once, he was looking forward to it.
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