A Godfather's Promise

"Harry Potter" belongs to J.K. Rowling

AN: Chapter two. Sirius ponders his life with his Godson. Harry starts to forge new alliances, and deals with his growing obsession for the French beauty. This chapter will get a little dark at one point, a little bit of gore will be involved.

REVISED ON 26/03/2018

A Godfather's Promise

Chapter II: Destined for Glory

If there is something that Sirius had become unfortunately accustomed to since that fateful day that he accompanied his Harry to Platform 9 ¾ for his first year at Hogwarts, is seeing unscheduled owls bearing letters reporting unfortunate events that his aforementioned godson had been caught into.

The first time it had happened, had been the day after Halloween of Harry's first year, when he the letter arrived and told him that his godson had incapacitated a troll with the help of his friends. The one that came after was a positive one, he had become the youngest seeker in centuries.

He went all the way to Hogwarts to attend Harry's debut, cheering for him when he caught the golden snitch. 'You would have been so proud, James', Sirius remembered thinking. He went down after the match was over to congratulate him personally, Sirius remembered how ecstatic he was. It was like being sent back to his youth when James had consistently won the Quidditch Cup when he was captain of the Gryffindor team.

Then, the next letter came to inform him Harry had killed a Death Eater.

Sirius immediately grabbed his wand apparated to Hogsmeade, demanding entrance to Hogwarts in order to see his godson.

When he was finally let inside under the permission of professor Dumbledore, he was rushed to the Hospital Wing. There lay the boy that had become his son in all but blood, his face sported cuts and bruises that no eleven-year-old boy should have to endure. He had been unconscious since they had recovered his passed-out body.

It took him three days until he finally woke up.

"What happened down there," Sirius remembered asking him.

"I tried to stop them… I needed to stop them from getting the Stone," murmured Harry while he was struggling to regain full consciousness. His dark-haired godson closed his eyes shortly after that.

"We found the body of professor Qurininus Quirrell along with the Mirror of Erised," Dumbledore had told him shortly after. "He had a hole the size of a Quaffle in his chest."

"What have you been teaching him!" roared Sirius, trying to remember the offensive spells he had learned during his first year at Hogwarts. "How could he learn a spell that blew a grown man's chest open!?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I don't think he did it on purpose. Given the boy's state, all signs implicate a massive burst of accidental magic."

"Accidental magic doesn't do that much damage!" Sirius shouted to the headmaster. "Accidental magic leads to turning your hair color green, not killing someone!"

Dumbledore then took a deep breath. "Sirius," he said, choosing his next words carefully. "You know Harry is not… normal, even for a wizard."

"I know that, but something like this is unheard of!" argued Sirius.

"Not unheard of, but certainly uncommon," answered Dumbledore. "Harry has an immense amount of potential, one that rivals or surpasses mine, when he cannot control such power and finds himself in a dangerous situation, his power gets out of control in a violent way."

"I was the same way, I…," Dumbledore breathed heavily, making Sirius stare intently at the normally calm and composed headmaster. "I also harmed people when I couldn't control it, and Harry has even more potential then I had at his age," revealed Dumbledore.

Sirius remembered being shocked at the revelation, he had known Harry to be special, but not so much that even Dumbledore could be surpassed.

Sirius looked at Harry differently after that, treating him even more maturely than he already did, he even decided to give Harry the Potter signet ring.

The troubles certainly didn't end after that, the next year was even more challenging. The final letter came to tell him that Harry had slain a basilisk.

A basilisk…

Sirius stood up from his living room sofa, and slowly climbed the steps of their modest house in the large town of Reading.

After the events in that fateful night of Halloween, Sirius had decided to raise Harry in the muggle world, not wanting his godson to be hounded by the troubles of Wizarding Britain. As such he had bought a house in Berkshire county, a relatively peaceful place just a few miles away from London, yet it was also large enough that Sirius and his godson never had lacked for anything.

Arriving at the second floor he made his way to his foster son's bedroom.

When he had heard the news of the basilisk, he had almost suffered a heart attack. His godson at the tender age of twelve had gone against the most dangerous creature in the wizarding world armed with only a sword… and lived to tell the tale.

On one hand Sirius could not help to be proud of his godson's accomplishment's. He could almost imagine that if James and Lily had been alive and Sirius had only been the boy's godfather, he would have been all over Harry, regaling in his outstanding accomplishments while Lily would berate him and force him to enact more caution the next time.

However, that role had also been passed down to Sirius, along with Harry after the death of his parents at the hands of Lord Voldemort.

Harry had grown up believing Sirius had been his real father. Sirius however had corrected him when he had been four years old, and told him the truth about his birth parents. His godson had cried for several days after that.

In order to try and calm him, Sirius had started to tell his godson the story of his family, the same stories that Harry's grandfather had told Sirius when he was staying in Potter manor after being banished by his mother from House Black.

Telling Harry about the stories of his family had worked, however it had also changed his nephew in order ways, after that, Harry became more serious and focused on his muggle studies a lot more. Still a boy of four, Harry made some pretty silly things.

He still laughed at the memory of when Harry had gone down to the local recruitment center at the age of five, later receiving a phone call from one very amused Major. He had picked up Harry and the Major told him about how his godson had entered the office, stood straight and yelled in his high-pitched voice: "Harry Potter, reporting for duty, sir!"

The Major had laughed and called Sirius in order to pick him up. When the Black lord arrive, the Major had was patting the boy on his head, while Harry pouted. "Wait until you're 18, young fella, then we'll be happy to have you in Her Majesty's Service," then sent him off to his godfather. "Spirited, this one, take good care of him."

Sirius entered Harry's bedroom and stared at the place. It was a startling mixture of what you could find in a normal 14-year old's room, as well as what you would find of an adult. The dichotomy was so Harry that it made Sirius smile at the sight.

A huge personal library was separated in two stands. On one stand was a collection of magic texts, some more advanced than what was taught in Hogwarts. Subjects from Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Runes, and other areas of magical nature. They were neatly arranged from subject, to difficulty. It was a testament of his godson's drive to learn and get more powerful.

The other side however, spoke about the Harry only a handful of people knew.

Muggle comic books lay neatly arranged, by publisher and alphabetical order. A fascination of many muggles, especially teenagers, Harry was also drawn in by the characters, their motivations, their struggles… and it didn't hurt that some artists could also draw sexy heroines in a way no healthy male could look away.

Below the comics also lay muggle works of literature: Lord of the Rings was featured prominently, one of Harry's favorites, and other fantasy works by Michael Moorcock and C.S. Lewis.

Literature was not all, however. Resting on a special stand, was Harry's constantly used Fender Stratocaster, next to it, a Marshall amplifier. Above the wall, several posters of famous guitarists and bands were displayed. One large poster showed a long-haired, tall blond man with a cream colored electric guitar, the poster read "Yngwie J. Malmsteen". Sirius did not know about him, but Harry had told him he was the best in the world.

Another showed an African American man. Even being raised in the wizarding way, Sirius knew that the man was the American guitar legend, Jimi Hendrix.

When Lily had become friends with the Marauders, she had brought the wizard raised friends a healthy dose of muggle culture, including things like music, books, and to their shock, a new medium unknown to the wizarding world: cinema.

Harry of course grew up knowing all these things, things that Sirius did not know about. And with his early years being on the leather bound 80's rather than Lily's love and peace 60's, his godson been known to have some extreme tastes. Whether it was music, movies or books… or as Sirius found out now that Harry was in puberty, sex. This was all something Sirius knew as part of raising Harry.

'Raising Harry,' Sirius mused to himself. 'Or did Harry raise me?'

'I guess we raised each other.'

When Sirius had decided to take Harry, he did not know anything about how to raise a child. In the first week he considered taking him to Dumbledore to find someone more suitable for the task of raising an infant, however, he remembered what he had promised, so he resolved himself to raising Harry himself.

'Because I swore to James that I would do it.'

It was a daunting task, raising him in the muggle world. A world that he had only snippets of information thanks to Lily. Learning to use other modes of transportation that didn't include the Floo network or brooms took him over a year.

And phones! Muggles found way to communicate with one another over long distances that didn't necessitate the use of writing, and it was handier than Floo conversations. As a person raised to believe all muggles were useless and barbaric, it shocked Sirius to see how far they had truly come. In a few years, muggle technology could maybe be able to surpass magic. Seeing their military inventions, muggles could probably beat wizards if Voldemort got his long-desired war.

'We truly have underestimated them,' Sirius thought to himself, staring at Harry's queen-sized bed.

Sitting down on Harry's bed, he looked at the raven-haired wizard's desk. In it was a word processing machine, but also several pictures. One of them was of Harry and Sirius holding a trophy, it was shot after Harry had won a martial arts tournament.

Another displayed Harry and Sirius again. Both of them were dressed in studded leather jackets. It was taken after Sirius decided to take Harry to 'Monsters of Rock' in Donnington. Sirius had felt that Harry needed something to take his mind off things after the challenging first year.

The one at the centerpiece - in Sirius' opinion - was the best, it was a magic picture, and featured Sirius, Remus, and James with Lily carrying a laughing one-year old Harry.

'You would be so proud of him,' Thought Sirius, looking at the photograph.

'But… did he have to grow up so fast?' Sirius questioned himself.

The last year was a challenge for both Sirius and Harry, after Peter Pettigrew had escaped from Azkaban.

The Ministry had been in shock, in it's entire history there had not been a single instance of escape from the infamous Wizarding prison. However, somehow, Peter Pettigrew had done so.

When Sirius had heard the news, he was filled with anger, yet also with a sense of relief. Finally, after all this time, he would get the chance to take his revenge on the traitor that had sold out his best friend to Voldemort and his servants. The same man that had left his godson as an orphan. He had never told Harry about Peter's connection to his parents, or about the Marauders.

Harry, however found out about Peter. Pettigrew had left Azkaban with the intention of either killing or capturing Harry, but was outsmarted by a combination between Remus, Sirius and his godson. A plan that went awry with the untimely transformation of Remus, as well as the interference of the dementors.

The dementors.

There was something odd about their behavior. They seemed to target Harry more than they did target Peter. Sirius suspected that they did so under the orders of some of the former Death Eaters and Voldemort sympathizers within the Ministry.

So much so that, when Peter escaped, instead of tracking him down, the dementors instead attacked Sirius and Harry. His godson defended him with a fully corporeal Patronus.

'You would have been so proud of your boy, James.'

Sirius had complained to the Ministry of course, but they just gave him a simple apology and told him they would try to control the dementors better the next time around.

Of course, a large part of the Ministry was in control of Lucius Malfoy. There was a simple reason behind the dementors actions. With no male sons, once he died, the heirship of House Black would be in dispute. Draco Malfoy would technically be the next in line to inherit the ancient house if Harry did not meet certain conditions for the continued survival of the Blacks.

Sirius though, had already made it sure that his heir would be Harry. James' mother had been a Black after all. Sirius had posthumously re-legitimized her when he came to his power as Lord Black. He would be damned if Lucius Malfoy's spawn gets his hands on the legacy of House Black.

Harry had changed even more after the escape of the traitorous Marauder; his already low number of friendships had seemed to evaporate. Harry now concentrating himself full time to getting stronger, he stopped his social life entirely, leaving him a loner by the time of last summer.

'He should be making friends, getting a girlfriend, and being the root cause of more gray hairs for Professor McGonagall, not preparing for a full-blown war. What would Lily and James say if they saw their son pushing himself to this level?' Sirius thought, thinking about his now deceased friends.

Now another letter had come.

His godson had now been chosen to participate in the dangerous tradition known as the Triwizard Tournament.

'It's not fair to him, why is it always him? Merlin, please let him live a normal life for just a little. There has to be a way for him to be safe. James would kill me if anything would happen to his son, why does he still get in danger every time.'

Sirius sighed. Then stood up with the intention of speaking with Dumbledore.

He had left his godson alone for the past three years in Hogwarts and nothing good had come out of it.

'No more'

Sirius was going to help his godson in this one. If he could not prevent the disasters from happening around Harry, then he would help his godson weather through them.

He was the young man's Godfather after all.

'I swear to you James'

When Harry woke up, he was once again fully conscious of the sore erection he was sporting underneath his sleeping pants, making them look like a comical version of a tentpole.

'That dream again,' Thought Harry while he was beginning to shake of the usual morning drowsiness from his mind. Much to the emerald-eyed Potter's dismay, his sleep had been plagued by the same images that had been evolving since his name had been selected from the Goblet of Fire to participate as the fourth Triwizard Tournament.

'Looking on the bright side,' Harry thought as he was now sitting on the edge of his bed, preparing himself to start his day. 'Those dreams are a lot better than the nightmares.'

Yes, having a bound and gagged French Veela was definitely a lot better than nightmares where he ends up killing unknown people.

Both end up with him sweating, frustrated, and annoyed. The nightmares end with him clutching his scar in pain, while the dreams ended up with him clutching his manhood in pain. The latter pain however, was pretty manageable in the long run, if not endlessly vexing.

'Why does this keep happening?' Harry questioned himself as he stood up with a visible scowl in his face, his mind trying to think unsexy thoughts in order to calm down his raging teenage hormones.

It had taken some time to accept it, after all, that the person he kept seeing in his wet dreams was the same woman that he had met three nights prior. The same woman who had belittled him in front of the other champions and had caused him to explode into anger during the Choosing.

It had taken him some time to admit it, that the woman that now haunted his sleep was that woman, but after last night's dream, it was pretty much undeniable in Harry's mind that – not content with being in his thoughts during his daily activities – Fleur Delacour was now following him while he slept.

It had been hard to admit after all, the fact that one person would have that much of an impact upon Harry's life. It had become increasingly frustrating to the Potter heir to find his mind drifting to the beautiful pale-haired French wizard.

'How did this happen?' Harry mentally groaned as he was picking out his morning exercise clothes. 'How is it that one woman can have this much presence in my life in such little time?'

The thoughts kept plaguing as he made his way outside the Gryffindor Common Room and Hogwarts itself, to the Black Lake, in order to start his morning run.

Harry, unlike most pure or half-blood wizards, had grown like any normal muggle child… as normal as Harry Potter and Sirius Black can be at least. An essential part of life of everyday muggles that wizards often ignore is that of physical movement. Magic made it easier for a normal wizard to not get of his arse while muggles had to do more physical work in their day to day life.

Harry himself had also entered physically demanding activities in Berkshire, including muggle martial arts and football. Both of which demanded that the Potter heir be in top physical shape. Not to mention that he had plans to enter the Royal Marines when he graduated Hogwarts, a military branch that was known to ask that it's members be at the absolute peak of their body.

Arriving at the aforementioned lake, Harry was surprised to see another early riser in the scene. Even the professors are not usually awake at this early hour.

On the other hand, it should be no surprise that a fellow champion would also be interested in training their body. Thankfully for Harry, it was not the champion that had been particularly bothering him recently.

Looking at Viktor Krum now, Harry could see why he had been chosen as his school's representative in the tournament. The Bulgarian seeker looked like he had already run a lap across the lake, showing why he had become seeker for his country at such a young age.

Stopping his morning run in order to look at a new presence, the Durmstrang champion stared at Harry. For a few seconds, neither said a word, merely satisfying themselves with staring at each other with blank expressions on their faces.

Neither of them broke the silence, but Krum did break the mood. Keeping the same blank look on his expression, he gave a quick nod to the younger champion, and resumed his training. Harry respectfully gave a nod back and started his stretches.

Finishing his stretches, Harry then began his exercise with a light jog, all the while thinking about how his last interactions with his housemates had been since he had been revealed as the fourth Triwizard Champion.

If there had been a rift between his friends and himself since last year, then there was now a large chasm that even Harry wasn't sure it could be fixed. Ron – in his usual jealousy – had accused Harry of once again taking glory for himself.

'Haven't the last three years taught you anything Ron? Harry questioned sadly. You should know that I never asked for any of this. If you want glory so badly, then I would gladly give the position to you.'

Hermione though, had been the most disappointing. Harry thought that if there was someone in the whole school who would believe his version of events, it would be his Muggle-Born friend. Instead Hermione, while not accusing him of lying, was now openly avoiding conversation with him. All the while still speaking to Ron.

That's not even mentioning the rest of his housemates, who had grown openly hostile. Harry had stopped associating himself with the rest of the Gryffindors, and well… the rest of the students ever since his first year in lieu of studying and practicing. But he had still counted with the continuous support of his two best friends. With them gone, he knew exactly how badly it felt to be truly alone in his life.

Completing his run, he was once again met with the figure of Viktor Krum. This time the silence would indeed be broken.

"You are taking this seriously, that is good," said Krum. "Though, it does make it look like you do wish to compete in this tournament."

Still regaining his breath, Harry responded. "I didn't enter my name, but I don't have a choice anymore now, do I? If I don't compete in this thing now I will lose my magic."

"It was still very convenient, vasn't it? It vas quite a scene you made back there," stated Krum with a barely visible smirk on his face, still covered in sweat from his morning workout. "Do you really think someone vants you dead?"

"Ask your headmaster," retorted Harry, his previous heavy breathing slowing down. "I'm pretty sure Snape has wanted me gone since the day I arrived at Hogwarts."

Krum's smirk started to go in lieu of his ever present stony expression.

"Vat do you know about headmaster Karkaroff?" questioned Krum.

"I know he was a Death Eater, I know he also betrayed his allies, making him a dangerous man to be around. Your headmaster is both a dark wizard and also a traitor, even I can give a smidge of respect to the ones on Azkaban who kept their loyalty. Karkaroff is an arse that will do despicable things in one moment, and then betray you on another if it's convenient for him," explained Harry.

To Harry's surprise, Krum actually snorted in amusement, followed by a ghost of a smile that could barely be detected.

"Believe me, despite being student in his school, I vill not be defending Karkaroff, he may look like he is supportive of me, but he only cares about competition. He is man who cares about his ego, nothing else," said Krum, while Harry remained silent, a surprised look on his face.

"Then why are you even competing if not for your school?" questioned Harry, now fully composed but still sweating profusely from the exercise.

"I am doing this for myself, I share very little in common with the rest of classmates. Something vee may share in common from vat I hear," Krum answered, his face slowly losing his average composure, and breaking into a very slight smile. "I hear you are also seeker, youngest in centuries."

"I am," responded the young Potter heir. "So, you do this for yourself? Why?"

"To prove myself, to show vorld and myself I am not only great seeker, but also great vizard," responded Krum. "Why do you compete, Potter?"

"I don't want to compete, I told you, I did not put my name in the Goblet," protested Harry, his voice now sounding tired, probably from saying the same thing to so many people.

"Even so… you still seem to take this seriously, I see you come here and train, that is not attitude of person who has given up," declared the Bulgarian champion. "There must be reason why you train."

"Maybe it's to protect my name and my pride, as well as the name of my family," responded Harry, his middle finger once again tracing the dragon signet ring of House Potter. "Even if I didn't put my name in the Goblet, this still represents a challenge to prove myself in front of the world."

Krum's smirk got even more pronounced. "That was very impressive scene you made when ve vere chosen, I am used to anger being seeker, and still haven't seen someone explode the vay you did. Karkaroff looked like he vanted to kill something, and so did you!" exclaimed Krum. "Tell me, vat made you that angry? From vat I've heard about you, you vould have gotten used to it by now."

"I may have expected something, but it doesn't mean I have to like it," responded Harry, checking his watch and noting it was almost time for breakfast. "Wouldn't you be angry too?"

"There vas something more though, vasn't there?" questioned Krum, then the smirk turned into a small smile. "It was French champion, vasn't it? You started getting angry the moment she started talking to you, you were a victim of her allure then."

Harry tensed immediately, causing Krum to widen his smile slightly. The emerald eyed wizard hated the Durmstrang champion more than anyone at that moment. Finally composing himself, Harry turned to look Krum in the eyes.

"You are imagining it, I was in the World Cup and saw those Veela cheerleaders you had. Everyone went half stupid at the sight of them but I did not. My godfather told me that I'm immune to Veela allure. I did not start drooling when I saw her either," responded Harry, still nervous about being called out.

"Not her allure then, but she definitely had effect on you," insisted Krum, his smile still present.

"I need to get going now, it's almost time for class" said Harry, now getting nervous around the issue of the Beauxbatons champion. The frustrations he had been hoping to quell with the morning exercise now re-emerging with a vengeance.

Viktor Krum checked his own watch, and cursed lightly in Bulgarian. "I do not know if I believe you, but I look forward to competing against you in the days to come," with a respectful nod, he then started to lightly run towards the Durmstrang ship.

Harry returned the nod. 'It really says something when the only respect I get nowadays has to come from a foreign student who also happens to be my rival.'

The dark-haired wizard then began to also run back towards the castle, looking forward to a shower and a breakfast.

Harry's hope for a calm breakfast came to a halt with the appearance of the very same person that had been the subject of conversation between him and Krum in the morning.

Fleur Delacour sat on the edge of the Ravenclaw, Harry noticed that she made sure to be surrounded only by females, whether they were from Hogwarts or Beauxbatons. Even with this premeditated precaution, the nearest set of males were still unable to keep their eyes from drifting towards the stunning silver-haired witch, the ones furthest away were not fairing any better either.

Like it had been since the day she had arrived, it was an impossible task of self-control for the wizard population to keep their senses in the presence of the Beauxbatons champion.

From only a brief overview of the Great Hall, Harry could see that the majority of the population were drooling in a way that would make most bulldogs red with envy. Ron Weasley was probably displaying one of the most embarrassing ones, combining his lack of self-control with his eating tendencies; the Weasley male had his open mouth dropping half eaten food back into his plate.

Even the first years were not spared from the shame, even if they sported innocent, besotted smiles rather than lustful stares.

Harry, now growing increasingly appalled, even noticed some of the students worming their hands under their robes to service clearly excited manhoods.

Even some of the women were also affected by the French veela, if Susan Bones' stares were any indication.

'I can see that she's attractive. Okay, massive understatement, she's absolutely beautiful. But can't you all show a little bit of self-restraint? Merlin, this is absolutely embarrassing me, and I'm not even the one drooling.'

At the same time, the looks that they were giving her made Harry oddly… uncomfortable.

'None of you are worthy, so stop looking at her.'

Harry then recoiled back. Where had that come from?

The Veela in question however, was apparently ignoring the attention she was getting from the rest of the Hall. Harry guessed she must be pretty much used to being stared at like the dream come true of the average male psyche.

Fleur Delacour was instead concentrated on her breakfast. Harry once again observed that she had filled her plate with traditional French cuisine. He had noted her apparent dislike for British food ever since the moment she had asked him for a bowl of bouillabaisse the day she had arrived.

She had a small, half eaten croissant in her plate, next to it was another one, still untouched. A steaming cup of coffee accompanied the French pastries. Upon taking a small sip of the beverage, her face broke monotone in favor of a familiar look of contempt, the British roast apparently offending her refined taste buds. She set the cup down, staring at it like a rat had died on it.

The uncomfortable side that Harry had been experiencing these last days told him that a smile would suit her gorgeous face better than the scowl. That or a nice, round ballgag

Harry tore his gaze away trying to forget the foolish thoughts and headed for the Gryffindor table in order to serve himself something to eat. Finding a place, he noticed some of his housemates shuffling away from him.

'So much for House solidarity,' thought Harry as he surveyed the several dishes arrayed around the table.

Settling himself for some eggs and toast, as well as a croissant he had seen in the plates of some of the Beauxbatons students eating… and the French champion, Harry began eating his breakfast. At the same time checking his schedule for the day. All the while trying to place the French witch behind him in favor of the upcoming classes and the first intrusion that the Tournament would make on this year.

After the debrief in Dumbledore's study, Harry knew he needed to get ready not only for the tasks themselves, but for the upcoming issue of the Wand Weighing ceremony. The headmaster had mentioned that Ollivander himself would be attending in order to inspect the champions' wands to ensure that they were in good condition for the rigors of the Tournament.

'Double Herbology,' thought Harry as he looked at his first class. 'I'm not interested much in this subject, so I didn't read up on it during the summer. Next to History of Magic it's the one I have the worst grades on, I need to find a way to get up to speed.'

Harry looked towards the table, most of his housemates were still ignoring him, however seated away from the rest of the table was also the lonely figure of Neville Longbottom. His finished plate was now ignored in favor of a massive book of Herbology, one which Harry noticed was advanced for their year.

Smiling Harry picked up his plate and started to walk towards the Longbottom heir. Sirius had once told him that the Longbottom and Potter houses had been stout allies since the founding of Hogwarts. With most of the school – including his housemates – abandoning him, maybe it was time to renew that relationship.

"Hey Neville, how are you doing," Harry declared with a smile on his face, startling Neville, who was still lost on his book.

"H-hey Harry, what is it," replied the nervous boy. Harry knew Neville had potential, but his self-doubt was his Achilles heel.

"Mind if I sit here," said Harry while putting his plate down beside his fellow Gryffindor.

"O-okay," replied Neville, while looking around the table, clearly not wanting to take another punch at his near non-existing popularity by associating himself with the house pariah, but too kind to tell Harry otherwise.

"Fascinating subject, Herbology," said Harry, looking up to see a more confident Neville smiling slightly, happy at being able to talk about his favorite subject, "I want to learn more about it, what say you help a bit and I help you with Potions."

Harry internally triumphed at seeing the Longbottom's eyes lighten up.

Harry looked pleased as he took his Herbology class. With Neville there to guide him everything was made much easier for him. In fact, Herbology was altogether not that different from Potions. Both required intense observation, following instructions, as well as intrinsic knowledge of the ingredients used.

'So why is he so bad at it?' Harry questioned himself. 'Neville's the best there is at Herbology in our entire year, maybe the whole school, and yet he is completely useless at Potions.'

Harry looked at his companion, who was following Professor Sprout's indications to the detail, while Harry was copying notes on the procedure.

"You see Harry, unlike most plant's, this particular species of magical nightshade can only be watered by of all things, acid, trying to use a base liquid to feed it will cause it to shrivel up and release an unpleasant smell that will stay on you for a month," babbled Neville, clearly excited while slowly nurturing the aforementioned nightshade.

Harry had never really seen this Neville before, he always knew the Longbottom heir to be a bumbling ball of insecurity. Now that he was showing aptitude for a subject he surpassed all other in, his fellow Gryffindor seemed to be beaming with confidence.

"Fascinating, Neville," said Harry, a bit dryly but truly impressed by Neville's seemingly savant ability in the knowledge of his favorite subject.

"Harry," said Neville, with a little more confidence then he had said so during the breakfast at the Great Hall. Said raven haired wizard looked back at him.

"What is it Neville," answered Harry, his attention still on his piece of parchment, copying the instructions that Neville seemed to give at a lightning speed.

"I um… happened to overhear something that the Slytherin students said," Neville explained uncertainly, his previous nervousness returning.

Harry looked over from his notes, now understanding Neville was talking about something other than Herbology.

"What did you hear?" Harry questioned softly.

Neville shuffled on his feet uncertainly, then finally relented started telling Harry what he had heard a couple of Slytherin fourth years saying.

"They're saying something about Malfoy, and they also said that you were involved, as well as the Triwizard Tournament. I don't know exactly what they were talking about, I j-just thought that you should be careful around the Slytherins," responded Neville.

'So, Malfoy seems to know something about me and the Triwizard Tournament, maybe this can all lead back to daddy Malfoy and the start of this plot,' Harry mused.

'Maybe Malfoy was the one to enter my name into the Goblet after all? I better stay on this,' a train full of conspiracies raced through Harry's mind, so much that he failed to notice Neville trying to get his attention back.

"-rry, Harry?!" Neville hushed loudly, making Harry snap out of his thoughts. Looking back at his fellow Gryffindor, he noticed that the class was now over and the students were filing out of the greenhouse in order to go back to the Great Hall for lunchtime.

"Sorry, I was distracted, thank you for telling me this," responded Harry.

"No need, thank you for listening to me Harry, everyone just ridicules me when I talk about Herbology W-will you really help me with the other subjects?" questioned Neville.

Harry smirked, "Don't worry Neville, I'll be there to help you. Now I really need to get going. See you in class!"

With that said, Harry sped off outside the Herbology greenhouse, but instead of heading towards the Great Hall, like all the other students, he took a quick detour towards the Gryffindor common room. He needed to find out what exactly Malfoy was up to and for that, one particular item of his father's that would come in handy.

Arriving at the foot of his bed, Harry waved his wand in order to open his locked chest. Inside he rummaged through his neatly packed belongings, finally locating the item that would be used to find out about the plans hatched by Malfoy.

His father's invisibility cloak.

Sirius had given it to him when he first accompanied him to take the Hogwarts Express in his first year at Hogwarts, and it had been a useful item to have in his adventures.

It was also a piece of his father that he could hold, and one of the most valuable belongings of House Potter. Whenever he placed it over himself, it was like his father and ancestors would be protecting him from beyond the grave.

Placing it in his bag, he then made his way back to the Great Hall, where the students were already getting eager for the food to appear on their tables.

The female students that is, the males were hungry for something else entirely.

Harry followed their stupefied gazes and was not surprised to see that they led towards the seated figure of the French veela. Once again, her perfect face had an indifferent expression. It couldn't be more obvious if she had a neon sign on her exclaiming 'I'm not interested'.

Okay, this is getting ridiculous now. Can it stop? Is this going to be every meal from now on until the end of the year? She's not that pretty guys!

Harry's eyes drifted slightly towards the witch in question.

Ok I'll admit, she is that pretty, she's a perfect ten. Hell, she breaks the meter, she's an eleven. But still, she's not going to pay attention, so just stop and act your age! I thought things like this only happened on muggle cartoons! Harry ranted in his mind.

Still… Harry was aware of his own internal hypocrisy. He had been fantasizing about her more than he was comfortable with, much like his classmates, and Harry doubted even his classmates' imaginations were as… odd as the ones the green-eyed wizard dreamed about.

Maybe I'm not really immune after all? Harry pondered, taking one last, discreet glance at the French champion. At least I can control myself, that's more than you can say for the rest of this lot.

Sighing, he made his way towards his table, once again sitting besides Neville. The boy in question was one of the only males in Hogwarts who could withstand the presence of the Fleur Delacour, and had foregone staring in lieu of practicing his wand waving.

"Hey mate, sorry, had to go back to the common room quickly to get something," said Harry, once again startling Neville.

"T-that's alright Harry," Neville replied softly, then looked around him to see the vision that Harry had been presented with when he arrived, clearly confused. "Is there something going on why? Why is everyone… oh," said Neville, realization dawning in his eyes as he looked at the figure of Fleur Delacour.

"I know she's pretty, but isn't this a… little too much?" Neville said in a low voice.

Harry snorted. "Some people are just weak."

"I'm weak too, so why am I not as fascinated," stated Neville sadly, his eyes once again drifting towards his wand. Harry intervened quickly.

"You're not weak, you just need some assistance, I will help you in class to understand better," stated Harry, bringing a small smile to Neville's face.

Aside from the presence of Fleur Delacour, lunch passed like any other day in Hogwarts. Harry made sure to give himself a full and healthy meal, while eagerly waiting for one particular Slytherin student to slip away from the Great Hall.

When Draco Malfoy finally stood up and left with his ever-present goons: Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, Harry said his quick goodbye to Neville and made sure to follow the Slytherin trio. Quickly entering an empty broom closet, he pulled the invisibility cloak, and placed it on himself. Exiting the closet, he prowled after them.

Even seeing them from behind, Harry knew Malfoy was sporting the biggest shit-eating grin in his face just from the way he was walking. It didn't take him long to overhear the blond ponce's conversation.

"Potter will be furious when he sees them!" Malfoy nearly snarled giddily in a disturbing manner. "It's about time the rest of the school saw him and his traitorous family for what they truly are."

The two goons beside him grunted. Harry was almost sure he hadn't ever heard any words coming from the two idiotic thugs.

'Those two are a true testament to your ideology Malfoy: inbred, racist, fat, and stupid,' Harry thought savagely. The comments about his family making him almost want to get his wand and stun all three of them.

'My family were conquering countries while yours were sucking some French lord's prick for the barest of recognition!' Harry ranted in his mind.

The three Slytherins finally arrived at an abandoned classroom, and tapped the door. Harry heard a lock come loose and the path to the room was opened. The Potter heir quickly entered before it could be closed and locked again.

Immediately he saw that there were two other Slytherins inside. The first one Harry noticed was pug-faced Pansy Parkinson, who threw herself at the Malfoy heir with a disturbing squee, and proceeded to suck his face.

The other one he didn't notice at first, but even with his back turned against Harry, the obese form of Millicent Bulstrode was quickly identifiable.

"Are they ready yet," drawled Malfoy, regaining himself after the sickening display Harry had witnessed earlier. Bulstrode turned back, apparently still working on the objects arrayed around an old table.

"Almost, they should be ready by tonight, tomorrow we can hand them out," came the booming reply of Bulstrode.

"Great then, let's see one that's completed," gasped Malfoy, excitement clear in his voice.

Harry watched as Bulstrode handed to Malfoy what looked like a badge one would put on their clothes to support a political campaign. In it, in bright red letters were the words:

Support CEDRIC DIGGORY

The REAL Hogwarts Champion!

Harry was disappointed to say the least. When he had followed Malfoy, he thought the plot to put his name on the Goblet would be revealed. He had assumed the Malfoy heir had been following the orders of his father in a conspiracy to get him killed in the Tournament.

Now he was finding out it was just another one of Malfoy's petty tricks. Harry frankly didn't care about the badge, Cedric was clearly the real Hogwarts Champion, chosen fairly by the Goblet to participate as the representative of the British school.

Harry didn't care that is… until Malfoy pressed the badge on his hands, and the words and image changed to read:

POTTER STINKS!

The words were the color of puke green, and the proud dragon symbol of the Potters was made to look like a deformed salamander, a clear insult to Harry's family.

Said raven-haired wizard almost erupted in anger at the sight. Insulting him was one thing, insulting the family of his forefathers was another.

Still, Harry fought his anger, and calmed down even with the howling, sycophantic laughter that surrounded the room, courtesy of the five Slytherins.

Harry left after that, taking quick note of the fact that the badges were still neatly arranged in the table for the night. Harry looked brightly ahead.

His next class was Ancient Runes after all, one of his favorites.

There would be some experimenting of course.

And… with the invisibility cloak he could always come back to this room during the night. He would have to.

After all, the snakes, just like all the rest, must be humbled before the awakened dragon

"Professor Babbling, I need some help with these particular question," drawled Harry, calling for the attention of the Ancient Runes professor.

"Yes Mr. Potter, how may I help you?" answered Professor Babbling, sitting in her office after class.

"I have noticed the use of the Push runes, and the fact that they can be used at a varying degree of severity, going from a light shove, to a violent throw. The question Professor Babbling, is one of safety. What would happen if I put two opposing Push runes in a single cluster?" asked Harry.

"That would be extremely dangerous Mr. Potter, two runes inscribed that way would cause both of them to come into conflict with each other and cause an explosion," stated the Professor.

Harry gasped, his acting talents enough to convince Babbling.

"I thank you for telling me this Professor, I will take this warning to heart," stated Harry, before ominously adding. "I will never forget it."

The next morning saw Harry walking towards the Great Hall, upon entering it he witnessed a spectacle he didn't think he would see for the rest of the year.

For once, Fleur Delacour was not the center of attention.

The badges that Harry had seen the day before had made their grand debut. The charmed objects attached to the students' changing from their support of Cedric to the mocking of Harry. In Harry's mind, they were mocking his family name as well.

Harry saw Cedric approach him, a slightly angry and embarrassed look on his face.

"Harry, I'm sorry, I tried to tell them to not wear them, I mean it, I-," Cedric stopped talking when he felt Harry's reassuring hand in his shoulder.

Harry truly appreciated Cedric in that moment, he smiled sincerely to his fellow champion and seeker and answered with a calm voice. "I know you would Cedric, I believe you, it's not your fault. You are a great and loyal friend."

Harry truly respected Cedric, he was the embodiment of the values of his House: fairness, hard-work, and loyalty. The dark-haired wizard then shook him lightly to assure his fellow champion and continued towards his place in the Gryffindor table, noticing with dismay that a few of his housemates had taken to sporting the badges.

Sitting down, Harry kept a facade of calm demeanor, his face a stone-cold expression that would make the Antarctic look like a tropical paradise, yet inside the volcano was seconds away from erupting. The mocking looks the students sent their way make the boiling point come closer with each passing second.

The most obnoxious one was Draco Malfoy, who was decked with six of the badges in his robes, almost all of his fellow Slytherins also sported a badge. The only exceptions were Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis.

Looking towards the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons delegations, he was relieved to see that none of them had a single badge in their clothes. Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum, looked particularly annoyed at the childish display the Hogwarts students were showcasing.

Harry sighed in relief, none of the foreigners had the badges, that was a good thing.

He did not wish to spark an international incident in case one of them got injured.

Speaking of the French witch, now that few people were looking in her direction, Harry felt less ashamed about gazing at her from his position.

An eleven out of ten she was not, there was no metric to measure this goddess made flesh. Now that she was not the object of stares in the room, Harry saw that she was more relaxed in her demeanor. Gone was the face of arrogance that she had sported ever since she saw her, now her face was brighter, her eyes sparkling like sapphires as she talked with two of her friends in French.

Harry noticed that rather than a scowl, her lips now formed a beautiful smile that made the Potter heir tingle inside with want. The opened mouth showed teeth like pearls, her voice babbling away in French was soft and exquisite, a far cry from the shrill nagging that she talked to him with during the night of the choosing.

Just looking at her now seemed to calm Harry, rather than anger him in the way she had before. If this was the true Fleur Delacour, then maybe being under her allure was not such a bad thing. Now he fully understood why everyone was obsessed with her.

'She's an angel,' Harry thought decidedly, there was truly no other way to describe such a being.

Unfortunately for the rest of the school, Harry was indeed immune to her allure, as he demonstrated when he closed his eyes. The calm that had taken over him disappearing, slowly being replaced by the previous fury that had been burgeoning ever since he had followed Malfoy yesterday.

"You have the virtues of all four Houses,"The Sorting Hat had once told him when he first entered the Great Hall of Hogwarts in his first year.

"It seems at the end I will put you in Gryffindor, you will be a lion like Godric!"

Harry's hands touched underneath the table as he remembered the words the Hat had told him them. His fingers slowly drifting towards the ring that had once belonged to his father, and his grandfather all the way to the old Poteria family of Rome.

But I am not a lion, nor a badger, or a raven, not even a snake! Harry thought, his eyes scrunching as he continued to hear the mocking laughs.

His fingers were now touching the symbol of his house, the powerful sigil of the winged reptile that reigned over all magical creatures and animals. His eyes now snapped open, his calm façade now gone, it showed nothing but pure fury.

'Godric Gryffindor'

Harry looked towards his housemates, now cowering in front of peer pressure as more of them took the badges being offered by the other students.

'Helga Hufflepuff'

The yellow colored robed students were only behind Slytherin in the mocking. Betraying the trust of their housemate and their fellow Hogwarts student.

'Rowena Ravenclaw'

Harry's gaze turned to the children of the house of knowledge, taking part in the asinine buffoonery as the rest of the school

'Salazar Slytherin'

The wizards and witches who bore green and silver now showed the dull fruit that was the product of their pettiness and low ambition.

'I am a dragon.'

Harry finally took his fingers away from the ring, and waved them in a small display of wandless magic.

'The Founders built a castle, and turned it into a school?'

'The Potters built a nation, and turned it into an empire!'

The small bit of magic that Harry sent started out slowly but surely taking effect. The badge of a Gryffindor sixth year started to hum softly.

'The Founders helped build a world that now cowers in the face of muggle progress?'

'The Potters helped build two civilizations that would bring the world to heel!'

Slowly but surely the students stopped their perverse revelry, and took note of the rapidly vibrating badges in their robes.

'The Founders' heirs have all but gone? Only a putrid dark wizard left as their living legacy?'

'The Potters are still here, and will always remain!'

'When the rubble is settled, when your rotting world lies in cinders, the dragon will still fly!'

Harry's attention turned to the students, eventually settling on the confused figure of Draco Malfoy

'What do you say now about my family, you waste of flesh and air!?' Harry thought viciously, as his eyes feasted on the spectacle he spent all night organizing until it was perfected.

A loud bang shook the Great Hall, the sixth year Gryffindor was sent flying a foot behind him, smoke coming from the robe where the badge had previously been. He was bleeding from his chest, but still alive and groaning into unconsciousness.

Similar things started to happen to the students that wore the badges, the vibrations started to get out of control, before a controlled but powerful explosion sent them flying.

Harry looked around him, as the students that symbolized the future of the wizarding world were being thrown around like a macabre marionette show.

'Is this your legacy, Founders?' Harry thought derisively, now only he was doing the mocking, standing from his seat to revel in the spectacle of his creation.

'But then again, I guess your kind only ever thought small. Perhaps your shallow and insignificant world did consider you geniuses.'

…

'But you could never reach the level of the Potters.'

Harry surveyed the entire Great Hall, most of the students that wore badges were now on the floor, their unconscious faces still groaning in shock and pain. Some of them would be considered geniuses, just like the Founders were considered geniuses.

'But no matter how much of a genius someone is, their accomplishments are mediocre and insignificant when compared to the name 'Potter'!'

Harry's anger was still spiking, the state of those who were mocking him was still not enough to quench his ire.

That is, until a sight came upon him.

The sight of Fleur Delacour standing slightly hunched, panic in her face, her hands covering her ears. The kind face that had calmed him so now gone, replaced by one of peril and anguish.

On her side, standing on a table, was Draco Malfoy, trying desperately to rip the badges from his robe. Badges that were now millimeters away from the French angel's face.

His anger now gone, Harry sprinted as fast as he could, the badges in Malfoy's robes now vibrating violently, ready to go off at any moment's notice.

In a moment of sheer adrenaline, Harry knocked the Malfoy heir with his shoulder, while at the same time taking the silver-haired goddess into her arms. Harry turned her around, so that his back was facing the panicked figure of Draco Malfoy.

Hugging the beautiful Veela closely, Harry closed his eyes and waited for the bangs that would be coming soon.

He noticed so much more of the heavenly being in his arms with his eyes closed. Her waist length hair felt like the softest silk, so delicate he thought they would break at his tight hold.

Her skin was almost impossibly soft, no imperfections at all scarred the beauty that he could touch. It was like whatever gods there may exist had shielded her from all harm, protecting her from cruelty and harshness of the world.

And her scent!

Sweet vanilla and fruity aromas entered his nostrils, it seemed as though she was untainted by the rough smells that could permeate the Great Hall. The smell was not overpowering or sickeningly sweet, it was just… right. He was addicted in that very moment, Harry doubted he would ever smell anything as breathtaking.

Harry stood there, still holding her in his arms as the last bangs sounded off in the room. He noticed that in the commotion, Fleur was also holding his robes, looking for a lifeline in the middle of the pandemonium. The bangs gave way to groans and gasps of pain.

When he finally opened his eyes, Harry saw the chaos he had spawned.

The Slytherin table was cracked right in the middle, the figure of Theodore Nott in the middle of it. The Ravenclaw table was a mess, platters thrown around all over the place, most of them broken- The Gryffindor table was the least affected of them all, due to the low number of people that actively wore the badges. Hufflepuff was also a disaster, food thrown away haphazardly.

Even the teachers were now on the floor, trying to take cover from what they probably believed was a Death Eater attack.

Some students were not unconscious, and were crawling out from the tables. Harry saw most of the Gryffindor's, including Hermione, Ron and Neville crawl out, as well as all the Gryffindor Quidditch team. From the Hufflepuff table, Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones emerged, accompanied by Justin Finch-Fletchley and Ernie Macmillan, Cedric Diggory was also was unaffected. From Ravenclaw he saw Lisa Turpin, Su Li, Terry Boot, Cho Chang, and Padma Patil.

From Slytherin, only Daphne Greengrass, Tracy Davis, and Blaise Zabini were intact.

'Potential allies, now that the scum has been sorted out.'

The only person standing in the entire Great Hall, was Harry Potter-Black, holding Fleur Delacour in his toned arms. Looking at the mess, Harry's fury once again started to rise.

'Lions, badgers, ravens, and snakes, you are all exactly where you belong.'

'In the end you all kneel before the dragon!'

His temper once again returning, it was interrupted by a small gasp between his arms. The delicate sound making him look.

Sapphires met emeralds

The rage was gone in an instant, quelled the moment his eyes came into contact with the Fleur's. Dumbledore's best calming charm wouldn't even come close compared to the effect the silver-haired beauty had.

Harry held his breath, unable to say a word, the world didn't matter in that moment, only the angel he had managed to somehow catch in his arms.

Harry didn't know how much time passed until the melodious voice reached his ears again.

"C-could you let moi go, please?" came the soft voice. He had heard the voice before, of course, but it had been haughty and mean-spirited. This one was something celestial, he just wanted to keep listening to it.

'Let you go? Why?'

'You are mine.'

Letting go was the hardest thing Harry had to do in his entire life. Even accepting the death of his parents and leaving the Mirror of Erised was easier. His parents were gone, there was nothing that could change that, but this angel was right in front of him, on the flesh.

Still, reluctantly, he let go. His arms fell to his sides slowly, and her face was slowly removed from her previous position on the side of his neck.

"Zank you," she gasped, and then stepped away. Her back turned to him.

Fleur left him, now looking for her headmistress, her shapely figure gliding away towards the main table. With every step she took away from him, Harry felt the familiar emptiness return, this time with a vengeance.

Taking one last, long look at Fleur, he made his way back towards the Common Room.

Classes had been suspended that day. Everyone was ordered back to their common rooms while the teachers desperately tried to figure out what happened.

No evidence was left however, Harry made sure of that while he put the explosive runes in the badges the previous night. The only person it could be traced back to was Malfoy, who had originally passed the badges around to the rest of the students.

In the end it was chalked up to a malfunction in the charms. Malfoy Sr. had to pay for the treatment of the rest of the students.

It also cost Slytherin over three hundred house points, making it impossible for them to win the cup this year. Only Malfoy Sr. managed to avoid his son getting expelled

Thankfully, none the victims were severely harmed. Most just had light scarring on their chests with first degree burns.

Unless you were Adrian Pucey and tried to inspect the vibrating badge like an imbecile, holding it closely against your eye. The sixth year Slytherin would now only have his left eye, the right side of his face almost scarred completely.

Harry tried to feel bad about the son of a Death Eater, but he had more important things to think about.

Like his almost manic obsession with a certain Veela.

Still awake in the middle of the night, the previous insomnia remedies could no longer work. Harry knew that mere fantasy could no longer satisfy him the way it had the previous nights. His mind now called for the real thing. The newly awakened dragon could not be pleased only with the fantasies of domination he had used previously.

Holding the Veela tightly on his arms had been a revelation, he had never been so vexed by his emotions as he was now. His rational thoughts knew it couldn't happen, it was impossible, and yet every fiber in his being now called out for her.

To Harry, it was frustrating, that one person had that much hold on his psyche. Resigned himself to a sleepless night, he went back to the Common Room hall, to see if he could find an interesting text to keep his mind away from silver hair and sapphire blue eyes.

He stayed awake for quite some time, pouring over texts that he had already read before in the vain attempt to get his eyes tired enough that he could end the night with a modicum of sleep. He had been known the be pretty cranky when he was too tired to function correctly.

It was not until he returned back to his room that he got the idea to once again consult the magazines that only seemed to serve as fuel for the fire that were his perverted desires.

This time, however, he decided to do something that he had never done. He actually started to read the articles that accompanied the extreme pictures. They told of the experiences of several dominants and their submissive partners, as well as the customs and rituals that they went through in order to have a functioning relationship inside and outside of the bedroom.

There was even one part that dealt with some sort of "contracts". While they were not legally binding, they were almost agreements between the master and slave in order to fulfill both of their desires. They included everything that they could agree upon, from common interests, limits, and even a "safe word" that could be used by the submissive to tell when they really wanted to stop.

Harry did not have the time to read all of it, and due to his tiredness, he doubted that he would remember most of it by tomorrow. But it was enough to keep him interested as overwhelming exhaustion slowly creeped his way.

Securing the magazines back into his trunk, he crawled back into his bed and finally managed to get some sleep.

His dreams that night were unfortunately not the ones that centered around Fleur Delacour.

AN: Well there you go, chapter 2. It definitely took more this time around, I had to rewrite some stuff because the nature of the story has been changing. While I'm definitely keeping the BDSM angle of the story. It is now fully a romance.

Harry is definitely darker in this fic. Not evil, but definitely not the paragon of light he was in canon.

I know I said that this chapter would feature the contract, but it just kept expanding and I felt I was rushing the situation to fast without elaborating Harry's state of mind and obsession with Fleur.

Song recommendation is "Destined for Glory" by Swedish power metal band Hammerfall from their 2000 album release "Renegade". Hammerfall are in the sacred pantheon of my most recommended bands if you want to listen to kickass heavy metal.

Until next time

The Metal Sage

REVISED ON 26/03/2018