Without saying a single word, Harry straightened to his full height and returned his wand to his pocket. He kept an eye on the angry blonde in front of him, mostly because she still had her wand pointed at him, but he was also self-aware enough to know that there was a second reason. Fleur Delacour was... the most strikingly, devastatingly, mind breakingly, soul crushingly, beautiful woman Harry had ever seen, even covered in a sheen of sweat and with a fierce, angry look upon her face. She was a tall, thin, curvy, platinum blonde, with flawless skin and eyes that were so deep a blue that they looked more like perfectly cut sapphires. Even that description didn't do this girl's beauty any justice however, so Harry's mind started drifting towards more dramatic words like ethereal, angelic or sublime.
Shaking off that out of character and unproductive line of thought, Harry checked with his magic to see if his senses were currently being enchanted. He wasn't... This girl was the real deal... Gods... Then, as the two of them continued to just stand there, Harry began to sense that the opposite was actually happening. This girl, Fleur, was actively restraining a magical aura just like her mother was. There was a lot going on within her body magically speaking, and she wasn't as proficient as her mother was at controlling it. Finally, with a start, Harry realized that he was still just standing there and staring at the girl.
Damn… Two for two, Harry. Someday, if you try really, really hard, you might actually introduce yourself to someone like a normal human being...
By some miracle, Harry managed to control his blush as he bowed politely, said a quick "It's nice to meet you Fleur," upended the side table and then returned to his chair. He didn't think he could've formed a more complicated greeting even if he'd wanted to. Fleur was just that disarming in her beauty.
Fleur was having just as much trouble looking away from the little boy who'd just rolled across her father's study as if he were a seasoned Auror or soldier of some kind... He was what, eleven, surely not even twelve years old, and yet he was exuding a shroud of magic so strong the hairs on the back of her neck were standing on edge. With every single second that passed. Fleur was becoming increasingly angry due to the boy's closeness within her magical senses. Does this boy know nothing about either manners or restraint? He was being far more intimate with her than she'd ever allowed a man to become in the past. Why was her papa not ending this boy for his impertinence?
Looking away from the boy for the very first time, Fleur glanced towards her father, only to find him giving her a very meaningful look and pointing at a chair. Fleur decided not to talk, and risk giving away just how angry she truly was. Nodding her understanding, she took a seat on the other side of the desk, finishing a triangle with her mother.
"That was a very impressive exhibition of reflexes," Adrien pointed out, in an attempt to smooth the room back to a semblance of calm. "I would be interested in hearing more about the life that makes a boy move like you do. Needless to say, I'm also interested in your rather... extraordinary problem."
While the silent standoff had been happening between Harry and Fleur, Dumbledore had been magically fixing the study door. At Adrien's words, he heaved a sigh of relief and leaned forward towards the man. "I was talking about the oaths that we would make. I don't like to imply that I don't trust you Adrien, but Harry here is worth the extra assurances. He's a very special boy."
At Dumbledore's words, Harry felt his face starting to heat up, so he focused on flying high in the sky. He did not want to inject bashfulness into the room, screaming out his embarrassment to everyone in the process.
Adrien didn't react for several moments during which time he carefully scrutinized Harry.
In response to Adrien's scrutiny, Harry injected apology, honesty and necessity into his shroud. Since he had no control over his shroud, Harry figured he might as well use it to their advantage.
With a small, amused snort, Adrien smiled and leaned back into his chair. "Yes, yes I think we will make the oaths. It's rare that a person can convey their good intentions as clearly as the young man sitting in front of me."
When Dumbledore looked over at Harry, there was both appreciation and gratitude in his eyes. "Yes, he is in fact rather noble, so far as I've witnessed in the past. Turning back to Harry, Dumbledore gave him an extremely serious look. "We'll be making the oaths first Harry. Once you've made the oath of honesty, any lie that slips past your lips will kill you... Be very, very careful what you say from here on out..."
When Harry nodded seriously to his Headmaster's warning, Dumbledore seemed to relax in his chair just a fraction.
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