A Flower From Tomorrow 1
Fleur Isabelle Delacour dreamed, floating in a void of darkness filled with stars. In front of her was... herself? It looked like how she thought she might look in a few years. Either that, or a younger version of her mother.
"Hello," the other, older Fleur said.
"What's going on?" the dreaming Fleur wondered.
"I am you, from the future. Some bad things happened, and I wanted to change events for the better. Save someone dear to me, and fix the mistakes of an arrogant, manipulative man. I found a way to send my memories back in time. I won't be replacing you, so don't worry. It's more like you'll get a library of knowledge in your mind that you can access. That knowledge is everything I know." Her lips quirked, "So you'll be rather good at magic after tonight."
The younger Fleur frowned, "Prove you're me. Tell me something that no one but me would know."
"When you were thirteen, you were asked on a date by many boys. You never accepted any date that year, and so many people thought that you were stuck up. The truth is, you heard one of the boys, Renard Dubois, talking about wanting to sleep with you and you don't want to be seen as a conquest," the future Fleur answered. "That's why even now, you rarely date."
Fleur frowned, looking at her older self, "That's true, and while someone might know of what happened that year, it's unlikely they'd know about me hearing Dubois talking." She shook her head, "All right. You're future me. What do you want?"
"Next year, your time, I went to Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament and met someone I love a great deal," the elder stated. "He has been used and treated badly. It ended with his death. I want you to help him, to ask papa to help him. I'd like for you to get close to him as we were good together, but that's your choice. You can judge for yourself."
"What about you?" Fleur asked her other self with a frown.
"If things go well, there won't be a me anymore, anyway," the elder Fleur said. "The past will have changed the future. So I made my choice. It's all right, I lost my love. The world has forgotten all that he's sacrificed and many have insulted his memory, and I won't allow that to happen. If you help him, that's good enough for me."
"That's sad," lamented the dreaming girl. "You - we really love him?"
"I do," the elder girl said quietly, "You could, but I don't want to make you think you must fall for him. That's your choice, that's why I chose this ritual instead of another that I could have used. It didn't feel right to take your place, even if you are me. But... he saw the real me, and I saw the real him. He was younger than me, but older than his years in some ways due to how he was raised."
"Who is this boy?" Fleur asked her other self.
"Harry James Potter," the older her answered with a smirk.
"You're kidding me," Fleur said, blinking. "I and Harry Potter were dating?"
"More than that. He said that if we survived, he wanted to marry me," the other Fleur said sadly.
"I suppose if anyone can understand not wanting to be seen as a conquest, he could, with everyone who likely pursue him for his fame," Fleur said after a moment's thought. "He's nearly three years younger than me, though."
"He is," the older her answered back. "He's lived a difficult life, so in many ways, he's a lot older. In other ways, not so much. He has had few friends in his life - none, in fact, until he attended Hogwarts - so friendships and relationships are difficult for him."
The dreaming Fleur frowned, "Why would he have no friends until he attended Hogwarts?"
"Because a manipulative wanker of an old man wanted him to suffer so he'd be easier to manipulate," her older self spat. "I am going to have to disappear soon, and you will experience my memories. Think of it like non-magical cinema, you will see and know the memories but you won't suddenly be twenty-one years of age. Once the process is done, you will be skilled at Occlumency, so you can store and compartmentalize the memories for easy access."
"Oh! I have been trying to learn that, but it's been difficult," the younger Fleur said, perking up.
"It took us two years to become proficient in it. You're lucky I'm simplifying the process," her older self quipped. "Now, prepare yourself. Some of this will be traumatic."
"I'm ready."
With that, the older her turned into particles of light and flowed into her body.
HPHPHPHPHP
The memories began to pass quickly. The rest of her sixth year, and then her seventh, and then more. Scene after scene after scene.
~~~
"Madame Maxime! Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!"
"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?"
~~~
"I saw Madame Maxime there," the boy before her stated, shuffling his feet, "But I wanted to be sure you knew. The first task is dragons. From my research, we'll have to get past them or steal something."
"Why are you telling me this?" Fleur asked, looking at him cautiously.
"This tournament is dangerous. I really didn't put my name in, and I know you did. But I still couldn't live with myself if you got hurt when I could have said something. I already sent a message to Krum and Cedric."
~~~
"You saved her! You saved my sister!" Fleur hugged Harry tightly, kissing both of his cheeks and causing him to blush.
"I couldn't leave her down there," Harry stammered, getting glared at by Ron in the process. "That's all."
~~~
"Will you write me?" Fleur asked, as she stood on the step of the Beauxbatons carriage.
"Of course I will, Fleur, you're my friend." She could see the dark circles under his eyes, and worried.
"I'll write you every week," she promised, before Madame Maxime coughed and she was forced to hug him and step away from the door.
~~~
"I'm sorry, Miss Delacour. Harry was most affected by the Tournament, and he decided that he had to put it behind him," the old man said to her, his voice sad. "I think you were a reminder. He said that he didn't want to speak to you."
"No, I don't think that's possible. He promised to write me, and I did send him letters," she stated with a frown.
"I'm sure he received them, but if he's not writing back, perhaps you should give him space?" the man suggested.
Her shoulders slumped. How could he? He'd promised her.
~~~
"Hello, Fleur," Harry said quietly. "It's been a long time."
"It has." Her voice was cool, looking at him with her ice-blue eyes.
"Not exactly the best time to meet again, but it's good to see you," Harry said hesitantly.
"Is that all you have to say to me?" she asked.
He was starting to get angry, "Say to you? What do you mean?"
"Well, you are the one who decided he had to 'put the Tournament behind him'," she quoted. "And that apparently included me!"
"What are you talking about?" Harry stared at her. "I didn't put you behind me! You're the one who decided that I was too young. 'He's a nice boy, but only a boy!'"
"No, what are you talking about? I sent you letters and when you didn't respond, spoke to Dumbledore. He told me all about how you were so upset by the tournament that you didn't want to speak to me anymore," Fleur almost spat out in her rising anger.
"I didn't get any letters. I sent you them every week. Sometimes more, at first," Harry insisted. At her words, he blinked. "I... spoke to Dumbledore, and he said that you had talked to him and asked him to talk to me, that I was just a little boy and you didn't think we should speak till I was older."
"No..." Fleur blinked at him, "You wrote me?"
"You wrote me?"
"I'm going to guess you didn't say what I was told, either," Fleur said with a sigh. "Why would Dumbledore tell us what he did?"
"I don’t know," Harry said. He looked down a moment. "I spent so much time upset and lonely, thinking you didn't want to be my friend anymore. I should have known better, should have trusted you."
"No, Harry," Fleur said quietly, touching his arm, "I believed him too, we trusted him to be honest. My guess is there were some sort of ward blocking your mail."
"Probably. But I still want to know why," Harry said.
"His funeral is in a few hours. We can slip into his office and look around," Fleur said after a moment's thought.
He nodded, "Okay."
~~~
Harry and Fleur emerged from the pensieve. They'd found it in Dumbledore's office and saw that it was full of memories, so took it so they could view the memories and perhaps find answers.
"I don't believe it. They were spying on me," Harry said quietly, his voice shaking. "Were Hermione and Ron really my friends at all?"
"Harry, you saw how he spoke. They thought they were helping you," Fleur pointed out gently.
"It doesn't matter. They broke my trust. The things I told them were private and they agreed to tell Dumbledore."
"So what are we going to do?" Fleur asked.
"We?" Harry asked, looking up at her as if surprised she wanted to help.
"We," Fleur said firmly. "I'm not going to let you get away from me again."
Harry flushed, before saying, "Before he died, Dumbledore told me how Voldemort came back. There are these things called horcruxes..."
~~~
More images flood past. She and Harry hunting horcruxes. Them growing closer, her finding out more about his past, and how he'd been treated, both before Hogwarts and within the school itself. Her showing him how to use fiendfyre to destroy the locket. Each horcrux handled in turn, even as Voldemort's grip grew tighter upon the British wizarding society.
Finally, the final horcrux.
"You heard what he said," Harry told Fleur quietly. "I'm the last horcrux, Fleur."
"There has to be another way!" Fleur insisted. "We can do research. Or speak to the goblins. They aren't nice people, but they're honorable, and they are very knowledgeable about curses!"
"But Voldemort is here now. If we flee, he will kill everyone here. I can't have that on my conscience, Fleur. You know that."
"I can't lose you, Harry. Not again," she insisted.
"I know, Fleur. I love you, you know. I think I fell for you a little the first moment I met you. You'd called me a 'leetle boy', but I thought you were so smart and beautiful." He sighed, "You know I have to do this."
"Kiss me, Harry," she said quietly.
He leaned in and softly kissed her. "Remember me."
And he walked off.
Off to his death.
~~~
In the end, Neville Longbottom killed Voldemort, and the public acclaimed him as a savior. He argued the point, but the British public ignored him. Harry simply became a footnote, another casualty. All he had done to stop Voldemort was forgotten or ignored, and she couldn't announce the existence of horcruxes, or others might try the same thing. Some even declared him to be a fake, which infuriated her.
And Fleur Delacour mourned.
Harry had left her everything. She lived in Grimmauld Place, where they had often stayed during their search for the horcruxes. It was there that she made a decision, and searched. And found two rituals in the deepest part of the Black Library.
Both would require a death. But she was willing to give her own to the cause. To change the past, for the better.
In the end, Fleur thought as her blood poured into the engraved runes, My past will be my future. I leave it to you, my younger self, to change things. To save him.
And everything went dark.
HPHPHPHPHP
Fleur Isabelle Delacour woke up, crying softly. She remembered everything. She was still herself, but the memories were there and she could feel her future self's love and despair.
Perhaps she would fall for Harry, or perhaps she wouldn't. But she would fulfill her future self's last wish, and help him.
Rising from her bed, Fleur got ready for the day, and went downstairs. Seeing her father, she said quietly, "Papa, I need to speak to you."
Her father looked at her fondly, "What can I do for you, my little Fleur?"
"I'm hardly little," she said with a frown before shaking her head, "Can we talk in your study?"
"This sounds serious, then," her father told her. "All right, follow me." He led her into his office, shutting the door. "What's wrong, Fleur?"
"I had a dream. Well, it was more than a dream..." She began to explain what she'd dreamed, and summarized what she now knew. She concluded with, "I know it's hard to believe, but I know and understand things I didn't before, including some powerful spells and wards, so that is some proof. And I can tell you where one of his horcruxes is right now, for you to look for it."
"The fact you know what a horcrux is, is frightening enough," her father said. "Most governments restrict such knowledge to their version of the Assembly, as that knowledge is incredibly dangerous." He mused, "There are some methods of temporal travel. They're what time turners are based upon. Most are in the hands of the Assembly or equivalents; it's surprising such rituals are out in the wild, as it were. It's possible, though."
"Well, the Gaunt shack is near Little Hangleton, in Britain. It's protected by many wards and protections, though we never went near it. Dumbledore retrieved the ring and cursed himself. There's apparently a strong compulsion on the ring to make you wear it, at which point the curse activates. He eventually died from it," Fleur said before spitting, "Luckily for him."
Her father blinked, "You aren't fond of Dumbledore?"
"I told you some about the future. Harry and I became good friends at one point. Then Dumbledore blocked our mail and told us that the other didn't want to speak to us anymore. It really hurt. We found out later, after he died, that he'd lied to us," Fleur explained sadly.
"Why would he do that?" her father asked, frowning.
"From what we found from his memories, he wanted Harry under his control, and I was a threat to that. Worse, Harry was an accidental horcrux. Dumbledore wanted him to die, and in order to ensure that, wanted him to be alone. Having someone to care for might have stopped him from letting himself be killed," she almost snarled. "He wouldn't have done so, either, if not for the fact Dumbledore arranged for him to find out right before a big battle with Voldemort. He could either flee and see everyone die, or let himself be killed so someone could defeat Voldemort. He chose the latter, the self-sacrificing idiot," she said fondly.
Some part of her father noted the way his daughter spoke of the boy. The rest was shocked, "Harry Potter is a horcrux? Are you sure?"
"Yes," Fleur said to him. "Assuming I didn't dream all of this, though the fact that horcruxes are real makes that unlikely. Is there a way to remove it without him dying?"
"It's..." Her father paused, "... possible, I think. It's likely to be very painful, but there are rituals to manipulate horcruxes. They involve transferring the horcrux to a vessel of equal magic. It's not my specialty, but I know of it due to my time working in Egypt when I was younger."
Fleur frowned, "Harry is a very powerful wizard. He cast a patronus at the age of thirteen that drove away over a hundred dementors."
"Hmm. We will likely have to go with a powerful vessel, then," her father said after a moment's thought." He tapped his lip, musing, "I'll have to speak to experts; I simply know that the ritual exists and its basic elements. First, we'll send a group of people to Little Hangleton to verify the presence of the horcrux and retrieve it, and go from there."
Fleur nodded slowly, and considered. "It's strange. I have the memories of my older self, but they are more like a book or a non-magical cinema. It's not me, but at the same time, I can tell it was me." She frowned. "Harry should be staying in Diagon Alley around now, I'd like to meet him. We need to get him away from his Aunt and Uncle, Dumbledore makes him live with them, and they treat him horribly."
"That may be simpler than you think," her father said to her. "Dumbledore may be standing in for him in the magical world because his guardians are non-magicals, but if they sign over guardianship to a magical family he won't be able to do so anymore. He has no legal right to contest if they choose to do so. I could talk to them, if they treat him as badly as you say, they'd probably agree to sign papers. At that point, he'd be my responsibility."
"Thank you, papa!" Fleur said, hugging him tightly, "I just... I know what he's going through. This year, Sirius Black escapes from Azkaban. He spends the year worried and nearly dies to Dementors, that's when he drives them off. I want to help him." She looked down. "We'll need to help Sirius Black, too. He's Harry's godfather, and innocent."
"I understand. You said he'd be in Diagon Alley?" he asked. Then what she said registered, "Sirius Black is innocent?"
"Yes, papa." Fleur said, "He told me, well, the future me that his aunt said some nasty things about his mother, and he lost control of his magic. He left the house and took a room at the Leaky Cauldron. As for Black, Pettigrew was the real Secret Keeper and is still alive."
"Well, then. We'll take a portkey to Britain. Rather than stay at the Leaky Cauldron, however, I think I'll rent a house. I can have it warded. It's safer that way," her father said to her. "You get packed, while I talk to your mother."
Fleur nodded and turned, heading up the steps to her room. Humming, she started to pack. Soon, she'd meet Harry for the first time! Technically.