A Godfather's Promise

"Harry Potter" belongs to J.K. Rowling

No longer Fleur's Kinky Contract but A Godfather's Promise. That's it, it's over, not changing it. Is it overdone? Fuck it, let's concentrate on writing the actual story instead of fucking with the title.

Harry meets with his godfather, and asks for his advice with his Fleur problem. He also makes new friends from Slytherin. Fleur deals with her internal conflicts and desires as the Wand Weighing Ceremony approaches.

A guest review mentioned that I made House Potter too powerful in my universe. The word I'd use is notorious. The Malfoys and other families have more influence in terms of political power (in the Wizarding World at least), the Potters are kind of the rebels of the Wizarding World, they are the wealthiest and most notorious thanks to their history of being in cahoots with the muggles, and their military might, but they are not political people. Hope that clears it up a bit. Their power comes mainly from their colorful reputation, wealth, and ancient ancestry. You don't take a dragon as a sigil if you don't mean business, and House Potter certainly did throughout history.

This mainly comes from the idea that while healers and mystics in Britain in the middle ages were physically separated from society (and later burned at the stake), Roman priests and mystics were always part high Roman society. House Potter simply stood by their Roman traditional roots, and early Roman tradition was centered heavily in their military and conquests.

If I ever do more Harry Potter stories, I will probably keep this idea of House Potter as my own little canon, I really like the ideas I have for it. Like a Potter being alongside Wellington at Waterloo, or being a sanctioned privateer in the West Indies, or a knight in Richard the Lionheart's service. I'm a bit of a history geek so I really like the idea.

Another thing: the BDSM angle of this story WILL remain, it's just not going to be smut-centered anymore.

Review if you have any more questions.

Now, on with the chapter:

"Dialogue"

Thoughts

"Foreign language"

Spells

A Godfather's Promise

Chapter IV: I Don't Believe in Love

Fleur did not know how much time had passed since she had returned back to the carriage until Madame Maxime finally came back personally to check up on her. By then she had informed her that it was almost time for lunch, meaning that she had skipped breakfast and her morning classes, and yet, Fleur could still not find it herself to want to leave her bed. Leave her room, go outside the carriage, or be anywhere where he might still be around.

After running away from Harry Potter, she had immediately rushed back to the carriage and into her room, fighting every instinct that a primitive part she had long ignored told her to do. Upon her arrival, she could only kick of her running shoes and take of her sweater before collapsing unto her bed in exhaustion.

Not physical exhaustion, mind you, Fleur had always considered herself an active persona, a short sprint back to her room would not be enough to exhaust her in such a way.

She was exhausted about everything else.

She was exhausted of the stares, she was exhausted of the food, she was exhausted of the cold weather, she was exhausted with seeing the same drab grey stones every time she walked into that ugly hulking castle the British savages deigned to call a place of learning.

Most of all she was exhausted about how she felt about Harry Potter-Black.

Two times already he had held her the way she had never allowed any man other than her father to hold her, she could never trust anyone else to do so without going wild. Twice she expected him to act like all the rest, especially since she allowed herself to lose control over her allure when it happened. She expected another Gustave Lefebvre to be hidden behind those green eyes.

Yet nothing happened, both times he took the full impact of her unrestrained allure admirably. Not that he was unaffected of course, even the most resistant man would be entranced by a Veela's charms, and Harry Potter-Black was no different. He just didn't reduce himself to a bumbling barbarian when in her presence. Fleur was pretty sure that he was interested, thanks to the way she saw his eyes widen and his touch stiffen when he looked at her.

Thus, her dilemma.

Fleur could not bring herself to give trust to someone she had just barely met, especially someone who – despite his appearance – happened to be almost three years younger than her. He would compete against her in the tournament anyway as her rival. She was sure that after that – if he survived – Harry Potter would just go back to being another man she had met. There was absolutely no reason to think more than that.

'So why can't I stop thinking about him?!' Fleur questioned herself.

'You know why!' that instinctive, primitive part of Fleur that she had buried away for so long replied.' He is someone you have been searching for so long, take the opportunity and go to him. He is someone you can relax around and trust not to turn into an excitable savage when he sees you.'

'I can't trust him! I can't trust anyone,' Fleur replied to herself as she closed her eyes, trying in vain to block off the annoying voice that touched her most hidden desires. 'How do I know that he's not already with someone anyway?' she reasoned with herself.

'Have you seen the way he stares at you? The way his eyes look differently when he holds you? He's definitely interested, and not in the way all the others are. You must take your chance now! If you ignore him now, he won't be interested for long. He's not like the others who will eternally try and win your favor, he will move on. Someone like him will have many girls trying to be with him, and he might accept one of them. Act now and stake your claim, Fleur! You might never get another chance if you don't!'

'I can't, I just can't. I want to win this tournament already and for everything to be over with. I want to forget about Hogwarts, I want to forget about this country. I want to forget about him.'

At this point, Fleur was just trying to get some rest and shut down her desires. It proved impossible, she just continued to lay there, ignoring the several knocks on her door all through the morning. That is, until one of the knocks came accompanied with the concerned voice of Madame Maxime.

"Fleur?! Are you alright? We have been trying to talk to you all morning. Will you allow me to come in?"

Fleur slowly opened her eyes, but did not have the will to get up from her bed. She called out to Madame Maxime that she had her permission to enter. The giantess opened the door to her room, comically ducking her head in order to fit in.

"Fleur, what happened? Are you well? You were not in the castle for breakfast and you missed your morning classes, said Madame Maxime, concern present in her voice as she addressed her most prized student.

Fleur sighed, ashamed to look so weak in front of the woman she had come to admire so much in the last years, even if she had her back turned to her, "I feel a bit unwell, Madame, but I should be fine with a bit more rest. I shall join you for dinner later in the day," she responded, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

"Are you sure you are alright Fleur? Tomorrow is the Wand Weighing Ceremony; will you be able to attend it?" asked Madame Maxime.

"I am sure Madame, I will be better with a few hours rest. I promise you I will be back to normal by tomorrow," said Fleur, still feeling awful for lying to a person that meant so much to her.

Fleur heard Madame Maxime sigh softly, "Very well Fleur, I will send some food to you anyway. It's not healthy for you to not eat anything throughout the day. Don't worry, I'll send you something that's not too greasy," and with that, the giantess left the room, making sure to close the door behind her.

Having heard her headmistress leave her room, Fleur once again closed her eyes. To her relief she actually managed to get some sleep. To her growing despair the dreams were filled with raven hair and green eyes.

A surprising lack of turmoil awaited Harry when he arrived at the Great Hall. The usual loud talking seemed to be lessened down a notch. When Harry took a long look at the place, he understood why.

It seemed as if half the students were missing, half of Hufflepuff was gone, a third of the Ravenclaws were absent, and only handful of students occupied the Slytherin table. Gryffindor was almost completely intact, but it was still missing a few usual figures.

Harry was taken aback initially by the sight. He had never seen the Great Hall this empty in the mornings, and was about to go ask another student the reason why.

Then he remembered what Cedric had told him earlier. Half the students were now in either the hospital wing or in some cases, St. Mungos. Harry then remembered to the previous day, to his handiwork, the perverse plan he had planned to get revenge on Draco and the people who were mocking him and his family name.

He once again remembered Fleur Delacour, how sweet she had smelled, how soft her voice was, and…

Harry started to shake his head comically. 'Focus! Think about her later.'

Spotting what had become his usual place at the end of the Gryffindor table, he saw Neville once again. Walking assuredly towards the Longbottom heir, Harry noticed that for once, Neville did not seem to have his eyes on a Herbology textbook. His eyes were instead focused on the Hufflepuff table.

Harry followed Neville's gaze to the blond-haired figure of Hannah Abbot, who was talking excitedly to her best friend and fellow Hufflepuff, Susan Bones.

Smirking, Harry continued to walk towards the table, when he arrived he placed his heavy bag next to Neville. When he arrived, Harry decided to tease his friend a little.

"What are you looking at Neville?" he asked with feigned innocence, causing Neville to slightly jump comically and look at him with panicked eyes.

"H-h-harry, what do you m-mean, I'm not looking at anything," stammered Neville, his hands trying to find the enormous Herbology book loved to lug around everywhere.

Harry, still smirking decided to stop torturing Neville for the moment, and instead sat down next to him. Looking over at the table, he decided to start his day with some oatmeal and eggs. Neville had already started with his own meal, Harry noticed. He also noticed to his amusement his stare occasionally was focused once again on Hannah.

Harry looked over at his schedule with a smile. Charms with the Hufflepuff, followed by Transfiguration with Slytherin.

'I get to make new friends, hold Fleur in my arms again, I'm eating a delicious breakfast, and I get two of my favorite classes. How can this day get any better?' thought Harry with a wide smile.

A rough cough broke him from his thoughts. Looking at the source, Harry found the now clothed figure of Viktor Krum and the rest of the Durmstrang delegation standing at his side. The Bulgarian seeker looking at him with his characteristic slight smirk, the other Durmstrang students wore stony faces.

"Do you mind if vee sit here?" asked Krum, making Harry recoil back at the question. He had assumed that the Durmstrang students were set on sitting with Slytherin House since day one.

"Uhhh, sure," replied Harry, now looking towards the rest of the Hall. They had suddenly become the center of attention of the rest of the room. The Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students looked over at them curiously, the few Slytherins that still remained stared at him with loathing. The Gryffindors seem to look over with bright looks in their eyes. Gazing at the high table, he saw Igor Karkaroff send a hateful glance his way. He was probably still angry about being called out as a Death Eater, Harry realized. The rest of the staff just looked back intently.

Viktor Krum's smirk became slightly more pronounced as he sat down next to Harry, the rest of the Durmstrang following suit. More food appeared in the table whose seats had been previously unoccupied. Harry heard a few cheers from the Gryffindor students, turning his head over to see them, he saw that the main cheers came from the Weasley twins. The rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team also sent cheers their way, making Harry guess that they were glad that true internationally recognized seeker had joined their table. Other students looked with smiles at him. The only exception seemed to be Ron Weasley, who gazed at him with the same looked of abject jealousy he had been receiving since the day he had been chosen by the Goblet as the Triwizard champion.

It was getting annoying how much he and his former best friend's relationship had been strained. Harry knew that Ron always had a jealous streak, fueled by the fact that he was the last of six brothers. Harry on the other hand was the scion of the famous House Potter. Since their first meeting, the Potter heir had made it a point not to flaunt his wealth or his family name, knowing that it would not win his any friends if he started to act like Draco Malfoy, and still Ron had found it in himself to be jealous of him.

'It's time to let go Ron, otherwise we will no longer be able to be friends any longer,' thought Harry.

His attention coming back to their guest, he started to converse with Viktor Krum.

"No offense, but why did you decide to sit with us this time?" asked Harry, to which Krum and the other foreign students snorted lightly.

"I have been waiting for an excuse to leave that table ever since the day vee got here. Yesterday's display just gave us excuse vee needed to get avay from them. The blond-haired coochka vas already testing my patience from moment I sat down next to him." Explained Krum.

"Not to be rude, but I expected you would like the Slytherins a lot better. I've heard about how Durmstrang… selects its students, and those views are more prominent over in Slytherin than there are over in Gryffindor," cautioned Harry, trying to tell Krum in the nicest way possible that Durmstrang's rejection of Muggle-Born students would not be viewed favorably by the House of Godric Gryffindor.

Krum's smirk disappeared for a second, his head dropping in his hands for a bit before tracing them lightly down his face, his eyes closed as if suffering from a light migraine. Finally, he composed himself enough to finally respond to Harry.

"That policy is getting removed next year," revealed Krum, shocking Harry. The raven-haired wizard had been told countless times by his godfather that Durmstrang were well known for their support of the pure-blood cause.

"Even Durmstrang now understands that it is not possible to maintain current policies regarding Muggle-Borns. There are not enough students that are pure-blood or half-blood anymore," said Krum, looking at Harry intently before adding, "I vas almost not accepted at first."

"Why? You are the best student from your school," questioned Harry, curious as to why exactly someone of Viktor Krum's caliber almost got rejected by Durmstrang.

"My mother is Muggle-Born," revealed Krum, drawing looks of surprise from both Harry and Neville. "They almost rejected me when they saw that, but eventually my father got around them, he is pure-blood. My mother – even though she is Bulgarian – had to go to Beauxbatons to get magical education because Durmstrang rejected her," Krum said with what Harry detected as anger.

Harry decided to add a little bit of his experiences with Krum, "My mother was also Muggle-Born," he said, making Krum's smirk visible again. Harry continued, "She didn't have to go to Beauxbatons though, she got sorted into Gryffindor, which has always been accepting of Muggle-Born students. My father was also sorted to this House, that's how they met and later got married."

Harry saw Krum nod, and then his attention was taken by the various dishes that were spread around the table. The Bulgarian champion started to pick out for himself a hearty breakfast, making sure to pick a mix between British and Bulgarian cuisine.

Speaking of Beauxbatons…

The door to the Hall opened to reveal the now familiar sight of a troop of blue bedecked uniforms strolling into the hall. The Beauxbatons delegation strode to their usual place at the Ravenclaw table, food appearing where they had sat down. Thanks to the extra space afforded to them, the foreigns students separated themselves from the Ravenclaws a little bit.

Harry watched the students of the French magic school sort themselves out in the Great Hall, hoping to take a small peek of Fleur before he had to go to his morning classes.

Just a little bit of motivation to get this already good day going even better.

However, as he continued to watch the Beauxbatons students enter into the Hall – including the three other female students that he always saw Fleur with – it became increasingly clear that she was not with the rest of the delegation. He still continued to watch, hoping that he could get a glimpse of her.

Krum's hushed voice managed to break away at his gazing.

"It looks like your girlfriend is not coming for breakfast,"

Harry's face flushed to a healthy red color, quickly remembering that Krum – along with Cedric – knew full well about his encounters with Fleur and witnessed the scene that had taken place not two hours ago in the Black Lake.

"I-it's not like that," Harry said, embarrassed. But his mind said something else entirely. 'It's not like that… yet.'

Krum just chuckled silently as he spent the rest of the meal. Harry managed to compose himself but inside he couldn't help but be a bit concerned.

'Did I… do something to hurt her?' Harry thought to himself, his mind going back to the scene that had taken place in the Black Lake earlier that morning. He tried to remember if there was something that he might have done to harm her. All he could remember however, was her running away from him. The memory did make him think; did he harm her in some way?

Harry spent the rest of the morning meal questioning himself about what he might have done wrong.

Harry was accompanied by Neville to Charms class. The Potter heir had to admit to himself that he felt excited about once again taking one of his favorite classes. Sirius once told him his mother, Lily Potter, was considered to be the greatest Charms prodigy that Hogwarts had seen in generations. Harry had been fascinated with Charms ever since his first year, but didn't start to take it seriously until his second.

Professor Flitwick had been quick to accept his apology for not trying his best at first, and since then had excelled in almost every charm the part-goblin Charms Master taught. Flitwick had told him that he had obviously inherited his mother's talent, and Harry swore that every time he successfully mastered another one of his spells, the professor would look into the distance, a small tear-filled look in his eye.

Entering the classroom situated in the third floor, Harry and Neville stepped inside to see a couple of Hufflepuff students already seated, and the Professor standing in his desk in order to better see the students that would soon be arriving to take their lesson.

Harry looked over at the two early arrivals and to his surprise saw that the seats had been occupied by two girls: Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones. Smiling mischievously to himself, he decided that the morning torture he had put Neville through had not been entirely to his satisfaction. Was this how it felt when Cedric and Krum teased him about Fleur?

"Hey Neville, how about we sit next to them," said Harry, his eyes pointing towards the seats next to the two Hufflepuff girls. Turning to see Neville's reaction, he saw the timid Gryffindor's eyes widen before his face started to turn a shade of red that rivalled the Weasley family's hair in sheer intensity.

Turning to Harry, Neville finally stammered out a response, "I-i-I'm not su-sure that's such a g-good idea Harry," he said, a stutter plaguing his speech in a way that would make Quirrell seem normal by comparison.

"Let's go Neville, since we can't seem to get along with our fellow Gryffindors, we might as well get along with the other Houses," said Harry, guiding Neville to the girls.

"B-but Harry, they're from Hufflepuff; Cedric's House! They hate you the most right now after Slytherin," said Neville, trying in vain to stop Harry from advancing further to the girl he had developed a big crush during the last year.

"Well then, we need to start building bridges, don't we?" answered Harry, he and Neville finally arriving to the seats beside the two girls.

"Hey Hannah, Susan," said Harry cheerfully, the two Hufflepuff girls turning to look at the two Gryffindors. Harry almost expected the disdainful looks he had received from the Hufflepuffs in the past few days, only to see Susan widen her eyes slightly. Hannah… to Harry's surprise turned a slight shade of red when he looked at Neville.

"Are these seats occupied? Can we sit next to you?" asked Harry, still observing Hannah's reaction.

'Shouldn't be too hard for you to get this one Neville, play your cards right and you might just beat the rest of the Gryffindors in our year on getting a girlfriend.'

'If I don't get Fleur first that is.'

"Sure!" gasped Hannah cheerfully, making space at her side for the two students to sit, only to find out that there was only room for one of them. Harry noticed Susan started to move to her side as well to make more space, but Harry had other plans in mind.

"Don't worry," he said to Susan, as he forced Neville on the seat next to Hannah, the Longbottom boy sitting still as a statue as he was next the blond-haired girl. Harry started to make his way to other side of the seats, finally sitting down next to Susan. Thus, the two Hufflepuff girls were sandwiched in the table next to the two Gryffindors.

As Harry sat next to Susan Bones, she started noticing her figure more closely than he had in the previous year. She had red hair. Not bright red like the Weasley family were known for having, but a darker shade of red, almost crimson in color. In the back of his mind, Harry noted that it was similar to the same shade that his mother had in the pictures he had seen. Her eyes were a deep grey, and she had a heart shaped face.

Those traits however, were not the things that drew most men's attention towards her. The reason she had become more popular among the boys of Hogwarts was her chest. Being one the first girls to start developing a womanlier figure, Harry could say that she had the largest pair of breasts of the girls their year. Hell, some of the fifth-year girls were probably looking at her in jealousy at the rapidly increasing size.

When Harry turned to look at him, Susan returned the look with a smile. Harry had been told by Hermione previously that Susan was one of the most down-to earth and friendly people she had met since she arrived in Hogwarts. Even if many Hufflepuffs thought Harry took away Cedric's glory by being chosen as the fourth Champion, it seemed as if Susan did not really care either way.

Harry was also aware that she was the top Hufflepuff student in their year, so she was not all looks as it seemed.

"Hey Susan, how are you doing," asked Harry. The sounds emanating from the classroom doorway signaling the arrival of all the other Hufflepuff and Gryffindor students.

"I'm good Harry," Susan said in a quiet but cheery tone. Harry took this as an opportunity to lean closer to hear ear and whisper.

"She's into him as well, isn't she?" asked Harry quietly, his gaze pointing at the sight of the flustered figures of Neville and Hannah sitting beside them, both of them trying and failing to strike a conversation.

Susan made a large smile that perfectly showed her pearly white teeth, "Totally," she said. Harry and Susan shared a small chuckle at the expense of their two friends.

"Good to see you again!" said Professor Flitwick excitedly, now standing atop his pile of textbooks. The authoritative appearance he may have been trying to present disappearing thanks to his almost giddy tone of voice.

"Now, class take your seats. Today we will be practicing a rather interesting spell that has many every-day uses: the Summoning Charm!" exclaimed the excited half-goblin.

"In order to perform it, you must arc your wand like so," said Flitwick, while waving his wand in a half circle motion, "The name for the incantation is Accio. Followed by the object you wish to summon to yourself," the Charms Master then demonstrated the spell himself.

"Accio book!" and a particularly massive textbook flew at Flitwick who managed to catch it admirably despite his size.

"Now, you will try to summon your textbooks," instructed Flitwick, and the students tried immediately to replicate the professor's success. From the corner of his eye he already saw Seamus set his book on fire.

"Accio book," Harry whispered, and the book inched closer towards him, but not towards his hand. The Potter heir then remembered his first flying lesson, where he had to call for the broom with his magic, and let the same feeling envelop him again.

"Accio book!" he said more confidently this time, and the book flew to his hand. It was maybe to fast, and it was more forceful than the way he had seen Flitwick get his, but it got the job done.

"Congratulation Mr. Potter! Ten points to Gryffindor!" applauded Flitwick. Making the rest of the class look towards him in either admiration, jealousy, or awe-

Harry smiled, with his lesson pretty much done, he started to look around the classroom to see his classmates' performance.

Hermione, as suspected, was already close to mastering it, while Ron was still lagging behind quite badly. Turning his attention to the desk he was sitting in, he saw Susan was already close to getting the book towards her hand, while Hannah seemed to have a little more trouble getting it to respond.

Neville… Neville looked dejected, in what Harry guessed was his defeatist attitude.

'He has already given up,' Harry thought, frustrated.

Harry didn't just seat Neville down with Hannah because he wanted to tease him. The green-eyed wizard knew that part of the reason Neville was not very good at casting spells was his complete lack of confidence in himself.

Part of the success that comes with casting a spell or any other type of magic was willpower. The fact is, the more confidently you wave your wand and say the incantation, the more chance of success you have of actually making the spell work. Neville meanwhile, seemed to have completely no confidence in his own abilities. Stunted by the ridicule of his classmates and the constant pressure that Augusta Longbottom put on her grandson, Neville Longbottom thought himself a failure at everything that did not involve Herbology.

Harry wanted to give his new friend confidence, he was going to need a strong ally in the future after all. What better way to give a man confidence than a chance to prove himself in front of the girl they had affections for?

Quickly sending the levitation charm to his book, Harry got Neville's attention. Once the Longbottom heir looked at him, Harry sent him an encouraging look.

Neville sighed, then took out his wand again, and tried the charm, to his own surprise the book moved slightly. Harry saw Neville look at him again, and nodded, this time more forcefully.

The timid Gryffindor then once again tried the spell. To the surprise of many, including Professor Flitwick, the book was sent to Neville.

"Well done Mr. Longbottom, 5 points to Gryffindor!" he exclaimed, making all the students take a look at Neville in an incredulous fashion. How exactly did Squib Neville manage to get the spell right before even some of the more talented students in the class?

Neville however, simply looked embarrassed at the attention he was getting, even more he when he turned around to see Hannah looking at him with admiration. Neville turned a healthy shade of red, even more so after Hannah grabbed his armed and told him if he could teach her how to do it right, causing Susan and Harry to let out small chuckles.

After leaving the classroom, Harry and Neville said their goodbyes to Hannah and Susan, and quickly made their way towards McGonagall's Transfiguration classroom.

If Harry's mother was extremely talented in Charms, then his father was her equal when it came to Transfiguration. Sirius had told him that once James Potter had started to take his classes seriously, there was no one in the entire school that could rival him when it came to that particular subject. Harry's father had even become an Animagus before he even leaving Hogwarts, something that had been an extremely rare feat almost no one could accomplish. Even Professor McGonagall did not achieve her Animagus form until her seventh year.

They arrived in the classroom, to see that there were also other students already seated in place. Unlike Susan and Hannah, who were from Hufflepuff House, these students wore the green and silver of Slytherin House.

The most noticeable one was Daphne Greengrass. She was taller than most of the girls in their year, even taller than quite a few of the boys. She had midnight black hair, almost shining blue in some areas- Unlike Susan's heart shaped face, her face had the traditional aristocratic looks that reminded Harry of Fleur, with the perfect symmetry and high cheekbones. Her eyes were a striking violet.

Next to her was her best friend, a half-blood witch by the name of Tracey Davis. She had dark brown hair and light brown eyes, she had a more girl-next door vibe. The only person Harry had ever seen next to her, in fact. Next to them was the tanned figure of Blaise Zabini, his Italian heritage showing with his dark brown hair and eyes. Of their year, these three were the only Slytherin students that were still intact after Harry had rigged the badges to explode in the Great Hall.

Now that Malfoy and his goons are not here at the moment, I can probably approach this particular group.

Making his way to them, he was suddenly met by the slightly hostile looks of the three Slytherin students. Still, Harry was undeterred and kept on walking to the table.

"Good afternoon," he said coolly, trying to maintain a nonchalant appearance, even if he saw that the Slytherin trio was undeterred. Finally, Blaise Zabini spoke up first.

"What do you want Potter, think we are easy prey now that the rest of our House is incapacitated," said the Italian boy, his eyes still making a glare.

Harry raised his hands in a pacifying manner, "I am not trying to harm or gloat to you, Blaise, I just want to talk to you," he said, trying to sound as diplomatic as possible. He was well aware of the Gryffindor and Slytherin rivalry, the two Houses never seemed to get along.

"Say what you will then, and leave us," said Daphne, her violet eyes making an icy glare.

"May I sit down here?" said Harry, pointing to the seat next to Blaise, and before waiting for an answer, he sat down forcefully in the seat, making the three students' glare widen a little, a disgusted look appearing on their face that reminded Harry a little of Fleur.

No, not Fleur. Fleur does it in annoyance, not in hatred. Thought Harry, his mind once again wandering to the French witch. Just one more day until I can talk to her, she will be unaccompanied in the Wand Weighing Ceremony, and I can finally have a chance to talk to her alone.

Finally coming back to reality, he noticed the three Slytherin students looking at him.

"Why do you wish to sit next to us, Potter?" demanded Daphne, her voice a mixture between annoyance and curiosity.

"You might have noticed that some of my housemates do not seem to like me very much at the moment, I thought that maybe I might be making some new friendships outside Gryffindor," explained Harry simply.

"And pray, tell us why do you come to us Slytherins?" questioned Tracey, the final one that broke the silence.

"You are currently here, and that means you are not occupying beds in the Hospital Wing, and that means you did not wear Malfoy's obnoxious badges, and that means I do not hold grudges against you three," responded Harry.

"Just because we refused to wear Malfoy's childish badges does not mean that we like you, Potter," Daphne said coldly.

"Believe me babe, there's a lot to like about me if you get to know me," said Harry, making Daphne look incensed at being referred to as "babe". The dark-haired wizard did not know if she was annoyed because she knew the word, or if she didn't know it. Being a pure-blood witch, Harry assumed she was raised without knowledge of Muggle culture

Messing with the magical raised could sometimes be really fun. Hermione and him always did it around Ron.

A small pit started to settle in his stomach when he started to think about his two former best friends. He turned to look at the red-haired figure of Ron Weasley, sitting with Dean and Seamus, cracking jokes with them. Hermione likewise was sitting next to Lavender and Parvati, although she seemed to be interested more in the textbook in her desk than she was in talking to the female Gryffindors.

Before Daphne could respond, Neville finally came behind him and nervously sat down at Harry's side, trying not to look at the three Slytherins.

Well, I get the chance to make new friends now, thought Harry positively, looking at Neville and the Slytherin trio. I really enjoyed talking to Hannah and Susan, maybe the answer to new friendships lays in the other Houses.

I am also making friends with Krum and Durmstrang.

And Fleur…

Finally, enough students settled in their seats that McGonagall finally started the class. His mind once again abandoning the thoughts of Fleur Delacour.

"Today we will be turning the hedgehogs to pin-cushions, I do not expect you to do it in this class alone, so we will be trying to master the spell for several classes," instructed McGonagall.

It was simple enough Harry thought. He quickly took out his wand and successfully turned the hedgehog into a pincushion in his first try, causing McGonagall to award him 15 points. He saw that Hermione also performed the spell, giving Gryffindor another 15 points.

Harry took the rest of the class to see how the other students were doing. Surprisingly, Seamus did not make something explode this class, but was otherwise unsuccessful. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Daphne was very close to performing the spell, with the other two Slytherins close behind. Finally, Neville looked like he wanted to give up.

Convinced that he did not want to antagonize the Slytherins further – and with no Hannah around to motivate him – Harry decided to once again help Neville with the spell. By the end he had already done some progress, but still needed a lot of work.

Daphne Greengrass did do the spell correctly however, earning her 15 points for Slytherin. A nice gesture, but futile. After Malfoy's badge fiasco, there was no way Slytherin had a chance for winning the House Cup this year.

Finally, McGonagall spoke up, "This concludes today's class, for homework I want you to keep practicing with the spell, you may take the hedgehogs with you after class. Be very careful with the though, points will be taken off if you fail to care for them."

After McGonagall bade her students farewell however, Harry stayed until the rest of the class had left. The only one who hadn't left yet was Neville, who was waiting for Harry to accompany him to the Great Hall for their lunch. He looked at Neville in a playful manner.

"I need to talk with the professor about some doubts I have, I'll see you in the Hall in a few minutes," Harry told his friend, watching as Neville nodded nervously and then quickly left the classroom. The emerald-eyed Potter then looked over at the Transfigurations Professor.

"Mr. Potter, how may I help you?" asked McGonagall with a thick Scottish accent.

"Professor, you are aware that I am competing as a Champion," stated Harry carefully.

"I am aware Mr. Potter. I am also aware that I am instructed that you stand alone in these tasks and cannot help you with the competition," chided McGonagall, making Harry think that she was aware of his intentions.

"I understand Professor, I do not ask you to help me directly in this competition. At the same time, you must understand that I am at a disadvantage, all my competitors are more advanced than I am," said Harry, trying to calm McGonagall in order to make her more cooperative.

"Professor, you are also one of the only people that believe me when I said that I did not enter my name into the Goblet," continued Harry, making the Professor sigh tiredly.

"I understand your situation Mr. Potter, and I am deeply sorry that you must go through this amount of danger again this year, but my hands remain tied," said McGonagall sadly, a conflicted look on her face. Harry knew she was trying to help him, but was battling between concern for her student and her professionalism.

"I am not asking you to teach me advanced magic personally Professor, I am asking you to point me in the right direction. If you have any textbooks or scrolls you might point me towards, I'll do the rest myself," said Harry, making the Scottish Professor make a small frown.

"And what are you interested in learning now, Mr. Potter," she said, finally

"Conjuration," stated Harry assuredly.

McGonagall frown deepened, "Mr. Potter, that is strictly N.E.W.T. material, you have not even taken your O.W.L. tests yet in order to get to that level. We are still looking at Vanishing spells at the moment," she said, in her no-nonsense tone of voice that Harry had learned meant that there would be no further argument. Still, he was adamant.

"Professor, I am going against challenges that will be designed for N.E.W.T. level students, if I am to get through this, I need to get a lot stronger," stated Harry, trying to find the best words to get McGonagall's cooperation.

The Scottish teacher still looked unconvinced.

"Mr. Potter, I cannot teach you the intricacies of Conjuration without first seeing Vanishment spells, and that is next year," stated McGonagall.

Harry now took a determined face and posture before picking up his wand and pointing it at one of the seats.

"Evanesco," said Harry confidently, causing the seat to vanish and a look of astonishment settled in McGonagall's face. Harry thought that she looked like she was seeing a ghost when she turned to look back at him. Sighing, he finally turned to the Transfiguration Mistress.

"Professor, you know what has happened to me in the past three years. I have almost died in some of them… and now it is happening again. If I cannot stope what is going to happen anyway, I might as well be prepared for it," argued Harry, hoping that McGonagall would be convinced.

Said Professor looked extremely conflicted for one moment, deep in thought for what seemed to Harry an eternity, before finally closing her eyes.

"I will think about it Mr. Potter, now go to the Hall and get some lunch," said McGonagall, a tone of finality in her voice.

It's as much as I'm going to get right now, I guess it's better than being to "no", though Harry, accepting the Professor's answer before giving his gratitude and leaving for the Great Hall.

"Mr. Potter," he heard McGonagall say as he was leaving the classroom, making him turn back to face her.

"Yes, Professor?" said Harry.

"…the chair," said McGonagall in comically demanding manner. Making Harry smirk in amusement.

"I'm sorry Professor, I'm afraid I do not know Conjuration," he said smugly before leaving the disgruntled Transfiguration teacher behind.

Arriving at the Great Hall for lunch, Harry was still surprised at the fact that the Durmstrang students were all seated at the Gryffindor table. Some of his housemates were now trying to talk to the foreign delegation. He made his way to them and sat down between Neville and Krum.

Tired by their morning classes, it seemed that neither of them wanted to talk. Instead they filled their plates with the offered food and started to eat promptly.

Harry noticed that – unlike the French students – the students of the Norwegian school actually seemed to enjoy the British cuisine, taking large amounts for themselves and eating it with gusto. He quickly remembered that a lot of the Durmstrang students came from Eastern Europe.

I guess after the number the commies did on their countries, they count themselves lucky that they can eat anything at all, thought Harry.

Harry himself started to fill his plate with a heavy meal. Being that he was physically active since a young age, he always ate quite a bit more than other people without gaining much weight. So, he made himself a side dish with fish and chips: a British staple.

As he picked up his utensils to start eating, his attention turned to the Ravenclaw table, and to the Beauxbatons students. His eyes quickly going through them; however, among the light blue clad French delegation, he could not find the figure of Fleur Delacour.

Maybe she is taking time off to train for the Tournament, maybe she is going through her spells, maybe she is occupied with thinking strategies on how to beat us, thought an increasingly nervous Harry, yet in the back of his mind another, more worrying thought was trying to worm into his thoughts.

Maybe she's had enough, thought Harry.

Maybe she's had enough of the stares, the drooling, the constant propositions, the attention she always gets. Maybe she does not want to deal with it anymore and decided to stay in the carriage for the rest of the Tournament,

The thoughts flew by Harry, each more one more pessimistic than the last.

Maybe today was the last straw, thought Harry as he remembered how he had held her in the morning.

A deep pit started to form in his stomach. If Fleur decided not to step into the castle for the remainder of the Tournament, all chance of him getting close to her were moot. There would be no opportunity to speak to her. The thought of not seeing her again for so long made his heart sink slightly.

There's still tomorrow, the optimistic side of him thought, she still needs to be there tomorrow for the Ceremony.

A nudge from his side interrupted his train of thoughts. Looking for the source of the discomfort, he found what looked to be a Gryffindor first year student looking at him.

"Harry, the headmaster says he wants to see you after lunch in his office," said the boy, making the Durmstrang students look at him. Getting flustered at the attention, the first year then made his way back to his seat quickly.

What does Dumbledore want now? thought Harry as he squeezed a fresh lemon unto the fried fish, his hand roaming to find a particularly big chip and bringing it to his mouth.

"Sherbet Lemon," commanded Harry to the statue that hid the entrance to the headmaster's office. He had learned that Dumbledore had a quirky habit of having his passwords be named after several types of candy – both magical and Muggle – and Harry was trying every combination he knew in order to gain access.

Sure enough, it seemed as the last one was the correct one as he saw the floor below him start to rise like an elevator, sending him to an upper level where Dumbledore awaited. The floor kept on moving upwards for a few seconds until it stopped, revealing a simple yet sturdy wooden door. Knocking on it, he heard the muffled voice of the headmaster from the other side.

Opening the door, he was met with a sight that he had seen several times already, considering how much trouble he had gotten on in the three previous years. So much so that, while not intricately familiar with the office as a whole, what he saw was almost exactly what he had pictured in his mind.

Everything, except for two very important people

"Sirius, Remus!" exclaimed Harry the moment he noticed the two people that had had the biggest role in raising him. They were both sitting next to the giant desk that Dumbledore worked at, the headmaster seated on the opposite side of it.

"Pup!" said Sirius, standing up from his chair in order to walk quickly towards Harry, embracing his godson in a tight, fatherly hug when they finally made contact. Harry returned the gesture himself, making Sirius lose his breath slightly.

"Merlin, you are already stronger than me, and almost as tall as your father was," said Sirius as he started to let go of Harry.

Indeed, Harry was already almost as tall as Sirius, in another year he will probably be surpassing him in height.

"Forgot about me, Harry?" Remus Lupin's voice interrupted in a humorous manner. Harry made his way to him and embraced the werewolf with another hug. This one lasted a little bit less than the one with Sirius, but it was still filled with warmth and appreciation.

"As much as I appreciate a family reunion, there are things we must discuss immediately," came the unusually grave voice of Albus Dumbledore. He was sitting tiredly in his desk, looking like he had not slept for a week. For all Harry knew he had not slept in a week.

The three of them made their way back to the desk, a new seat was conjured in order for Harry to sit down next to both Sirius and Remus. Once they were all seated, Dumbledore finally started to speak.

"I have been investigating around as most as I could about the circumstances in which we find ourselves in. Doing my best to find out why the Triwizard Tournament was allowed to come back in and who were the people who supported it," explained Dumbledore in a serious manner. The information made the other three people pay close attention to what was going to be said.

"Upon Harry's insistence I went to see how the Ministry voted in favor of the championship, there were many people who supported it and opposed it. Though there were many outliers there was one coalition specifically that managed to get it passed," explained Dumbledore.

"Let me guess; Malfoy Sr. and his Pureblood Coalition?" said Harry sarcastically, remembering telling Dumbledore that the Malfoy Patriarch would have a hand in this whole thing.

"Quite right Mr. Potter," responded Dumbledore, his voice lacking any amusement.

"That dodgy cunt," Harry growled menacingly, making Sirius smile slightly.

"Mr. Potter, that language is-,"

"Completely adequate," interrupted Sirius, his voice also dangerously low, "That tosser that married my cousin already tried to kill a large part of the school two years ago, if anyone deserves to be called a cunt, it's Lucius Malfoy."

"So, there's the answer, someone is trying to kill me after all," stated Harry, his voice now neutral. Yet inside him, there was an anger bubbling to high levels. The last time he had felt this angry, only the sight of Fleur managed to get him to calm down.

"I have to say, these elaborate plans to kill me are quite something aren't they. The Italian and Russian Mobs would just send someone to you to riddle you full of bullets. These wankers go to such extents to get someone killed. What's next? Manipulating a building to fall straight below me at just the exact moment?" asked Harry in sarcastic annoyance.

"I understand your anger, all your anger," said Dumbledore, referring not only to Harry but also to Remus and Sirius, "However, there is nothing we can truly do right now, I can't just go and confront Lucius with this or they'll find out we are on to them," the Headmaster continued.

"So, we just sit down on our arses and let Harry get himself killed!?" exclaimed Sirius, losing his normally playful attitude in favor of slight anger.

"I never said that, that is why I called you here," said Dumbledore, standing from his chair in order to go to his Pensieve, after staring at it for a few seconds he turned back to the three visitors.

"I am bound as headmaster of the school to not break previously agreed to rules. As such I cannot help you in the competition, Mr. Potter. That is why I have called Mr. Lupin and Mr. Black. They are the ones that will help you train for this competition. You must survive, you must live so that we may foil their plans," stated the headmaster, making the other occupants' eyes widen significantly.

"Are you sure you want us to do this? Are we allowed?" asked Remus.

"The rules of the tournament say that the Champion cannot receive support from the teachers. I am not blind however, I know that Mr. Krum and Ms. Delacour will receive help from Igor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime. You two, however, are not teacher or faculty, it's hardly against the rules that you help your charge," said Dumbledore, revealing his plans to help Harry. It made sense that he might not want to break the rules himself and leave it instead to Sirius and Remus.

"Not that it matters, from what I remember, you two never had much respect for the rules," he said to Remus and Sirius with an amused tone.

"You got that right old man," said Sirius, his grin finally returning.

"In the meantime, I will continue to observe the Ministry and the Pureblood Coalition to see what they will be planning next. I leave young Mr. Potter in your capable hands," said Dumbledore.

"Headmaster wait," said Harry, his mind now going to more selfish thoughts.

If I'm going to compete in this shit-show, I might as well take as many perks that come with being a champion that I can take.

"If I am going to be sneaking around and training until late hours in the night, I think some changes in my daily and living arranges are in order," stated Harry confidently, making the headmaster look at him in confusion.

"What do you mean, Mr. Potter?" asked Dumbledore.

"I think it's best if none of my housemates learn about my new activities, I do not wish to go around sneaking all the time for nightly lessons" said Harry.

"What is your solution then?" questioned the wizened headmaster.

"I wish to get my own room, outside of the Gryffindor common room," said Harry. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a proud Sirius' grin getting bigger by the second.

"I do not think such preferential treatment will go well with the rest of the school," said Dumbledore.

"Give one to Diggory as well, then you can tell the rest of the school that it's a new Triwizard Tournament tradition or something of the sort," said Harry, making the tired headmaster sight before answering.

"It does seem like a good idea, and it makes it so our activities are more inconspicuous. I shall think about it, and you will have my answer tomorrow. Now I must rest, I will not be accompanying you at dinner, and… please try to stay out of trouble," and with that, Dumbledore dismissed them.

"No promises," said Sirius, before leaving alongside Harry and Remus.

As they were making their way down the magically powered elevator-statue, Harry was made aware of the nudging caused by the elbow of his godfather. Turning to look at him, he saw the ever present mischievous grin of Sirius Black. A look like that could either be very good for Harry or cause him extreme embarrassment.

It seemed Sirius was intent on doing the latter.

"Soooo… I've been listening to a few rumors," Sirius mused to his godson, making Harry feel a little nervous.

"What about?" questioned Harry in the calmest manner possible. Though inside he was already getting nervous about what his godfather would tell him.

"Well, some of the things that happened yesterday. Exploding badges? Really?" said Sirius.

"What about them?" asked Harry.

"Please tell me it was you Harry. Please?" begged Sirius in a mock display of admiration to his godson.

Harry let a small smirk slip out of him, a comical expression hiding the fact that he was referring to one of the most violent and darkest acts he had made in his life. Sirius did not seem to care.

"I knew it! I knew it would be you! Ah, James, if you could only see your son right now, you would be so proud!" beamed Sirius, his previously serious tone taking the laid-back mannerisms Harry had grown used to while he was growing up with his godfather.

"How did you do it?" asked Remus, a little more concerned, yet the old prankster was still hiding in the tone of his voice.

"Runes," Harry answered simply, making Remus let out a small amused whistle and making Sirius laugh.

"I knew it was a mistake not to take that class while we were in here!" guffawed Sirius, his left hand now coming to cover his face in hopes to muffle his laughs. He kept on laughing all the way until the statue was back to ground level. Finally regaining his composure, he then looked at Harry with an even more playful manner.

"I also heard about what happened next, between you and a certain French girl," said Sirius, his eyebrows waggling at Harry.

Said wizard dropped his smile, the familiar butterflies in his stomach reappearing, along with the sensation of heat flowing through him. His face was slowly but surely turning a healthy shade of red, making the smiles of the two older men widen so much that Harry thought they were going to rip off their faces.

"I-it's not like that!" Harry sputtered, though his body reaction was telling a completely different story.

"I knew it was only a matter of time, though I never imagine you would have gone for a French bird. A Veela no less! Ah, I am so jealous!" exclaimed Sirius, making Harry become even redder at the reminder of Fleur Delacour.

"Then again, I guess you are just following Lord Richard's footsteps," mused Sirius.

Harry immediately become more relaxed and attentive at the mention of his great-grandfather's name, "What do you mean? Are you saying my great-grandmother was French?" he asked his godfather.

"Didn't I ever tell you? Of course she was! I told you, before that Lord Richard was in the early expedition to help the French during the Great War," at this, Harry knew that he was in for one of his family's history lessons. He listened attentively, he had always enjoyed when Sirius told him the stories of House Potter.

"He was just a lieutenant when he arrived. He and his platoon were immediately sent to Belgium, near the city of Mons. Under the command of Sir John French, Richard and his boys who were all Squibs, Muggle-Borns and Muggle relatives, helped the French retreat in what was largely known as the Battle of the Frontiers," said Sirius. Remus and Sirius were now completely quiet.

"Despite his magic, the German onslaught was just too much, and Richard had to send some of his men to the nearest aid station. There, he met a French woman he immediately identified as a witch, with the way she could easily heal the soldier's wounds. He was drawn to her, seeing a pure-blooded noble witch was now treating French, Belgian and British wounden soldiers like a normal person. Though, all he learned was her name at first. Aah, what was it?" mused Sirius, his eyes closing in concentration. Harry waited expectantly, now feeling like he was a kid again, listening to Sirius' stories with fascination.

"Victoire! That was her name! Victoire Vigouroux, though she was later known as Victoire Potter," said Sirius, making Harry smile at the name of his great-grandmother.

She was French! Maybe I can break the ice with Fleur with this.

"Of course, that was not the end of it. In fact, she was not into Richard at all when she first met him, according to her, Richard was only an 'uncivilized barbarian who though more with his wand and rifle than his mind', and constantly ran away from him" continued Sirius.

Running away from him? I'm more like my great-grandfather than I thought! Harry mused, remembering the scenes from the previous two days and Fleur's constant need to flee from him.

"Despite giving Fritz heavy losses, Richard and his Tommies retreated back to Paris in order to begin preparations for the great defense. He met her again in one of the hospitals, this time finally being able to speak to her for a few moments. But it was short-lived: The Battle of the Marne had begun, and Richard was once again sent to fight in the front lines in one of the most intense battles in history," drawled Sirius, Harry still thinking about Fleur while still paying attention.

"Richard was promoted to captain, and was sent to the trenches. He was not able to see Victoire for a long time. He never forgot about her however, and tried sending letters to her. None of them were ever responded. The Vigouroux family was not keen on English people. Still, Richard persisted, trying to tell her of the utter hell that trench warfare, and how he kept on going because he wanted to see her again," continued Sirius.

"He did not see her again until the prelude for the Battle of the Somme, Victoire was now in charge of several aid stations, a charge that was unusual for women in the day. Richard was now a top-ranking Major, and in command of his own battalion. Because of the utter hell that the battle turned out to be, Richard often sought comfort in Victoire. She had also been shaken up by the massive amount of wounded and dead. They began to see each other more often. By the end of the war, as the peace negotiations were taking place, both of them went to Victoire's home in Southern France. There he decided to propose to her, and she said yes," ended Sirius. Harry was now smiling softly at the tale.

"So you see Harry, never give up! All you need is to get yourself a uniform, become a Major, and your French Veela will finally be all over you."

Leave it to Sirius to make a joke out of everything, still, Harry let out a small genuine laugh. The first one he had had in a long time.

After his midday lessons, Harry was now readying himself for a nice dinner, before going back to read some more about offensive charms and dueling. Sirius and Remus told him that they would be staying over in Hogsmeade, and would come every night to a special room where they could train.

Harry arrived at the sparsely populated great hall. He noticed that none of the wounded students had come back. Though that would soon change. Madam Pomfrey had announced that the less affected students would be discharged in a couple of days.

The other thing he noticed to his delight was that a large portion of the male population was once again staring at Fleur Delacour. Though the "delight" part was something of a conflict. He was delighted that Fleur was back in the castle again, making his previous fears of her leaving the public eye unfounded.

He was no longer delighted that other people were staring at her. In fact, it was making him quite vexed.

Still, he started to make his way to his usual spot beside Neville. Krum was now speaking with his headmaster, and the further he stayed away from Karkaroff, better.

Sitting down, he did not even wish to speak to Neville at that moment, not that the Longbottom was asking for it. He had another big textbook on Herbology in his lap, and to Harry's surprise, a book on Charms.

He instead just wanted to focus on two things: food and Fleur.

He glanced at her once he served himself, making sure to not stare at her in the same way the others were. He made sure to only take small direct glances, the rest of the time he would look only through the corner of his eyes.

The most immediate thing he noticed was that she now had a blue silk scarf around her head. It did not look like she was wounded or hurt, making Harry feel relieved. It seemed that it was a fashion statement more than anything.

She was French after all.

Picking at his food, he once again pondered the realization that he had the previous day. He did not longer want to just see her like the rest of the people around. He genuinely wanted to speak to her. The sight of her seemed to already be calming the anger that had been bubbling in him ever since Dumbledore revealed his knowledge of the Tournament a few hours earlier. It was an addicting feeling, like he knew that everything would resolve itself. It made him feel so powerful and he wanted more. He did not want anyone else to see her as he saw her, to touch her like he wanted to touch her.

The mere sight of an older Ravenclaw student going to her on bended knee to ask her out was already getting him riled up. He was almost ready to grab his wand and send him to join the others at the Hospital Wing.

Is this how you felt, Father? When other people tried to ask Mother out? How did you do it? How did you manage to get her in the end? I do not have the seven years you had. I have but a few months.

Bringing his feeling back into place, he settled for eating once again. The food now tasteless in his mouth as he continued to see other students go propose to the French beauty. It seemed that today was more common than other times. He even saw Ron trying to get up with his face concentrated on her. That was until Hermione pulled him back to his seat and hit him over the head with a large tome.

Taking another direct look at Fleur, he saw as her gaze now pointed towards him.

It was something he had never seen her do, she was almost always looking either directly at her food, or she was looking at one of her friends. Never at anyone else. Yet for just a few, long seconds, his emerald eyes made direct contact with her sapphire blue eyes.

The both of them stayed still for what seemed like an eternity. Harry remembered the calming yet powerful feeling he had felt when he had looked upon her eyes the two times he had held her and he was once again feeling it with just her gaze. It was subdued of course, she was several feet away and the lack of body contact took some of the effect away, but it was still an entrancing sight.

Harry saw several emotions go through her eyes, from confusion, to fear, and what seemed to be like pain. After breaking eye contact, she promptly ended her meal and made her way out of the Hall as quickly as she could without breaking into a run.

Harry let out another sigh. Yet this time, he was determined, he would no longer back away from the challenge. He would pursue her until she finally acknowledged him.

'Wish me luck, Richard Potter.'

Fleur knew she not stay in her room for much longer without other people suspecting about her. She also knew she could not ignore her hungry stomach. Therefore, she knew that she had to go back to the castle for supper.

The problem was, she could not bring her allure back in control after it had been so free in the morning. Deep down inside, Fleur knew she did not want to. Regaining control over it felt like she was trapping herself in a small cage.

She had to go to more primitive measures of being inconspicuous, as inconspicuous as a Veela could be at least. Going through her wardrobe, she changed into her Beauxbatons uniform, and added a big silk scarf to tie around her waist-length hair. It would not do much, but hopefully it would be enough to keep others from going too crazy around her.

Putting as much control on her allure as she could, she finally made her way out of her room and to her small group of friends, before leaving the carriage to go to the ugly, grey castle.

The supper itself was an infuriating event. Despite covering herself more so than before, her mildly controlled allure could not stop the students from going towards her. This time there were not only males, but females too!

Now, Fleur was not a close-minded person, and even had to admit to being attracted to females in that way sometimes. She was French after all! But it did not make her happy to know that she would now no longer have to contend with only half of the student population.

Her worries only increased when Harry Potter entered the Hall.

He was no longer in his dragon themed sportswear, now sporting the usual ghastly Hogwarts robes that the school made them wear. Yet out of the corner of her eye, she acknowledged that they fit him rather well.

Sighing, she went back to eating her slightly larger meal, she had not eaten anything else that day after running from the aforementioned green-eyed wizard.

She made it a point to eat as fast as she could without looking uncivilized. She wanted to finish dinner and go back to the carriage for some more sleep. Tomorrow would be a big day, and she would have to deal with her competition.

In the back of her mind she knew that it would mean having to come into close contact with Harry Potter-Black, and that made her even more nervous. It had the potential to turn into a very awkward display.

After turning down a particularly annoying Ravenclaw student without even deigning to look at him, her eyes wandered to him. Not knowing that he would also be staring back.

The sight of his eyes made her allure want to break free once again.

Look! He's interested, this is your chance, go speak to him. That annoying inner voice came out once again, she had not heard it since she had woken up from her midday rest.

He did not look at her like the others, and the sight of him made a deep part that she had locked long ago before want to come roaring back. Deep down she knew the voice was right, he was interested. But she could not allow it to fester, she had to take control as much as it pained her to do so.

Fleur still kept looking at him, out of the corner of her eye she saw that her unstable control was making the other students look at her more intently. She tore her gaze away painfully from those eyes and went back to concentrating on her meal. She only ate a bit of it more, before she once again stood up and left the Hall. Not as embarrassing as running away this time, but she did not care at that moment. She just wanted to forget all about him.

It was a fantasy, she knew she would have to compete against him, and that means coming into contact with him at some point.

Making her way back to her room, she went to take a scalding hot bath. The warmth relaxing her and making her body forget the cold weather outside the carriage.

She knew that she could not avoid it, and that made it worse. She had finally given up on love, and as if fate wanted to make her miserable, Harry Potter had come into her life. She knew it was impossible, yet her nature was entranced with him. How she would make it through the next months, she did not know.

When she was finished with her bath, she went back her room and put on some undergarments, followed by a satin sleeping gown. Yet as she tried to go to sleep, she could no longer find it in herself to relax enough.

She calculated that a couple hours went by, but she was still unable to get the rest she craved.

Finding herself increasingly and uncomfortably warm, she shed her sleeping gown, leaving her only in the stylish undergarments. To her increasing dismay, her hands started to wander to her breasts, starting by cupping the twin orbs. Followed by fingers slipping beneath the flimsy bra to touch her stiff nipples, a small gasp escaped her mouth as she did so.

Letting go, she reluctantly let her hands go to the nightstand beside her, more importantly to the compartment in it. She opened it, and without looking at it she retrieved the hidden items that she could not bring herself to show anyone. Not to her friends, not to Madame Maxime, not to her grandmother, father, and mother, not even to Gabrielle.

A pair of light blue handcuffs with the key still attached to them came into Fleur's view. Despite the color, she knew that they were strong enough to withstand the struggles of a grown person.

They had been a gag gift from Clemence, during Christmas of last year. They had made a secret gift exchange and made it a point to see who could give out the funniest gift to another. She had settled with sending a pedicured pig's foot to Monique, laughing as she opened it.

When she opened Clemence's gift, her friends had laughed along with her, seeing the present as nothing more than an oddity before moving to the real presents. Yet after the celebration was over, and she left to her room, she tried them on for the first time, and was surprised at how excited she had felt when she did.

It was something that was humiliating to Fleur, she wanted to be strong and a great witch, yet at the same time she wanted to be tied up in these handcuffs when she was frustrated. They became almost therapeutic, whenever she wanted to lash out and lose control, she would put them on for a few minutes. She practiced with them, sometimes with her hands up front. Sometimes she cuffed her hands behind her back. She also began to combine with soft rope, tying them around her ankles, remembering the helpless damsels she saw in some children's movies when she was younger.

Fleur was conflicted every time she put them on, she knew she was giving up control of herself as she did so, but it was so relaxing when she did. The hopes of finding love however, were almost impossible to her now.

To find a person she could be around was almost impossible for someone like her. To find someone who she could be around and shared an interest in her desires was pretty much an impossibility.

I don't believe I will ever find love. So why do I think about him? She thought miserably, before turning her attention back to the metal restraints.

She decided to keep it simple tonight, only the cuffs and with her hands on the front. Licking her dry lips, she opened the first cuff and let out a small breath when she closed it around her left wrist, the rattling noise making it clear that it was now secure and could not be opened without the key. She did the same with the other cuff and so she was restrained. She set the key between her fingers beside her as she looked at her bound hands.

Fleur could never bring herself to trust anyone with these proclivities of her. She was too ashamed to do so. She was expected to be in control all the time, and her family, friends, and teacher all encouraged her as she did so. Telling them of her primal habits seemed to Fleur to be tantamount to spitting them in the face.

She let her now cuffed hands wander throughout her body, finally grasping the edges of her knickers, slowly letting the fingers wander into her most sacred part of her body.

She started slow, letting the hand trace the side of her labia, the tips of her fingers teasing the increasingly wet folds. Knowing that she did not wish to sully her expensive underwear, Fleur began to slip it off her core.

Finally, free of her clothes, she truly began to give in to her lustful desires.

As she finally started to touch the tip of her pubis, she thought about how much she wanted for someone else to do these sorts of things to her. In her mind, the hand was not hers but of another person.

The person had locked her hands, taken away her key and wand, and left her to his mercy.

Unlike Gustave, however, the person that she imagined would not be a savage, he would be attentive and sweet, rough at times but always with her consent in mind. Against her better judgement, her mind started to add emerald-green eyes to the man that controlled her.

What made it all hurt more is that she knew she would never find that sort of person. But right now, she did not care, she started to lightly pinch her sensitive pearl and was fully aware that she was letting out small gasps as she did so.

Remembering she had not placed a silencing charm on her door, Fleur decided to improvise and grab one of her small pillows, biting down on it as an improvised gag.

A few minutes of stimulation was enough to bring her to an earth-splitting orgasm, her juices flowing out of her love box.

She lay on her climax, too weak and unwilling to search for the keys or her wand to unlock the cuffs, she simply lay there in the afterglow. All control of her allure now gone.

Utterly exhausted, she simply closed her eyes and allowed herself to go back to her dreams. These ones filled once again with black hair and green eyes.

AN: There you have it, chapter four. This was the biggest chapter yet. Hope it was worth the extra waiting time. I don't think the next one will be as long as this one, since I really had to cover a lot of ground in this one before we get to the exciting stuff on the next few chapters. Up next should be the Wand Weighing Ceremony. Harry will finally speak to Fleur, I am pretty nervous about how it will go.

It seems Fleur has her kinky side as well, even if she does not tell anyone of her desires. Though she still seems to be conflicted by them.

Sirius and Remus have returned to Hogwarts to teach Harry advanced magic, and Harry is now on his way to get his own space outside the Gryffindor Common Room.

Seems Harry is now officially a Neville/Hannah supporter, much to their dismay.

I am a bit nervous about writing Fleur, I don't know if I'm doing a good job considering I'm the proud owner of a Y chromosome. So, I'd like to read your opinions if you write them in your reviews.

Song recommendation for the chapter is "I Don't Believe in Love" by Queensrÿche from their 1988 masterpiece "Operation: Mindcrime". This is my favorite album of all time. Just imagine the song being from Fleur's POV instead of Nikki as sung by Geoff Tate… without the political assassinations, murdered nuns, and junkie killers of course.

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. This story now officially has over of 1,000 followers and 600 favorites, which is absolutely insane for me considering this is my first ever fanfiction. Thank you so much.

Don't forget to review if you have any doubts, opinions, or criticism. Until next time.

The Metal Sage