Harry Potter and a Very Different Goblet of Fire
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters and locations belong to JKR and her agents, I'm only playing in her sandbox.
Rated: M for violence, language and sexual situations.
Ships: Harry/Fleur, Neville/Cho, Hermione/Charlie.
Warning: Major character OOC.
A/N: This is an unusual look at what might have happened in the Goblet of Fire Tri-Wizard Tournament when too many people meddle.
A/N2: I've added a bit more to this chapter from the original posting.
Chapter One: Surprises
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, located in a magically hidden area in Scotland was hosting a very special tournament this year. Headmaster Albus Dumbledore had welcomed the Headmasters and students of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, the two visiting schools to Hogwarts the previous evening. The Durmstrang students had arrived by sailing ship that had surfaced in the Black Lake, almost as a muggle submarine might. Beauxbatons arrived shortly afterwards flying in a rather large carriage pulled by flying Abraxan horses. After the meal, he introduced the Tri-Wizard Tournament and the Goblet of Fire, spelling out the rules to the students. "This year, an age limit line has been added to make sure only those who know sufficient magic can compete; in other words seventh year students only. I must warn you all that this is a dangerous tournament for those untrained. A student once selected to compete by the Goblet enters a binding magical contract and there is no backing out, so make sure you are prepared to compete before you enter your name."
There would be no Quidditch this year. Several students moaned that they wouldn't be able to compete in the tournament, but Harry Potter wasn't one of them. Even not being able to play Quidditch didn't bother him as long as he was able to fly. He would take precautions this year though, sine the tournament sounded dangerous. It would be just his luck to be sucked into it somehow.
Ron, of course was outraged that there would be no Quidditch and that he couldn't compete in the tournament.
"Bloody Hell," he cried. "They've taken all the fun out of being here. Who wants to study all the time?"
Hermione responded, "Ron, that's why you're here; to learn proper magic so you can get a decent job when you graduate!"
"Nah, I'd rather play Quidditch, I'm going to play professionally when I leave. I don't need to learn all those spells."
Hermione shook her head, finally realizing that Ron was not someone she could respect, vowing that this year he could bloody well ask someone else for help in his school work.
The next evening, the Great Hall fell silent awaiting the Goblet to shoot forth the three champion's names. Harry was curious who the Hogwarts champion would be. He thought Katie or Angelina had a chance. After the Weasley twins had been unceremoniously rejected, winding up in the hospital wing to have Madam Pomfrey remove the after effects of their aborted ageing potion, Harry knew Dumbledore's age line was effective. Everyone had a good laugh when they had sprouted long beards and white hair. In any case, Harry knew he didn't want to compete; he'd had enough "adventures" in the last three years, thank you very much.
Ron was not so sure that he would have been any more successful if he had tried, but the prospect of a thousand Galleons first prize and the fame it would bring had tempted him sorely.
Hermione had huffed at that, telling Ron that Dumbledore knew what he was doing. "It's simply too dangerous for us to compete, Ron. People have died in previous tournaments." But Ron was not listening.
The first name out of the Goblet was famous Quidditch star, Viktor Krum, from Durmstrang, followed quickly by Fleur Delacour, a beautiful Beauxbatons seventh year student, and finally, to the astonishment of everyone, Neville Longbottom. Neville almost fainted in shock. "Wh-what? I-I didn't enter my name. Th-there must be a mistake."
The Headmaster had stared at Neville, wondering how that had happened. He thought he'd made sure that Harry Potter's name would come out. This would complicate his plans.
The three chosen were sent to an antechamber behind the teacher's table to meet with the officials.
Meanwhile, Harry was breathing a sigh of relief. He had personally approached the Goblet last night to put his own charm on the cup to make sure he wasn't selected.
One other person had interfered with the cup for reasons unknown.
"Harry," Hermione quietly asked, "How did Neville get selected? He's our age and definitely is too young."
"Dunno, Hermione, I'm just glad it wasn't me."
"But… but… you heard the Headmaster, it's dangerous. He could be killed."
"Yeah," Harry admitted. "I hope Dumbledore can do something about that."
Harry had been watching the Beauxbatons champion at supper last night. She was impossibly beautiful, with long silvery blonde hair and an impressive figure. She was a little taller than him and her face, when she glanced at him had captivated him. Not like the Veela at the Quidditch World Cup. He'd barely been able to resist their charms then; this was a different attraction, more personal. He'd smiled at her then, and surprisingly, she had returned the smile.
Hermione had narrowed her eyes and frowned at the girl, instantly disliking her. She couldn't pinpoint just what it was, but she somehow knew the girl would be trouble. Perhaps it was the way the boys drooled over her (except Harry, for some reason).
Fleur had recognized Harry Potter right away and had cast surreptitious glances at him and when he'd smiled at her, she inexplicably smiled back. 'What?' she thought. 'Zose eyes! Merde! What am I zinking? 'Ee's much too young. On ze ozer 'and, my Veela magic calls to 'im. Fleur! Behave your self, focus!' But it was in vain, her mind wandered to the British wizard with the messy black hair and captivating green eyes. He was a bit short and skinny, but that could be looked after. She shook her head, trying to shake the traitorous thoughts from her mind. Unfortunately, it only drew his eyes back to her.
Harry saw Fleur shake her head and the way her hair whipped around was entrancing. 'Stop! What are you thinking? But she smiled at me!' It was a losing battle and their eyes locked once again. A shiver ran down Harry's spine, he'd have a hard time concentrating on his studies this year.
Neville was trying to make himself invisible and not succeeding in the least. The Headmaster had quickly approached, a scowl on his face. "Mr. Longbottom. How did you manage to enter your name in the Goblet of Fire? You are much too young to compete!"
"I-I d-didn't, Headmaster," Neville stuttered. "Even Harry Potter said he wasn't stupid enough to enter his name, although I heard that Ron Weasley was thinking about it. Do I really have to compete?"
Barty Crouch from the Ministry, answered that. "I'm afraid Mr. Longbottom must compete, Headmaster. The Goblet draws a magical contract based on the names chosen. It's a very complex and old magic. Failure to compete would result in dire consequences. Mr. Longbottom could loose his magic or die."
Neville shuddered at that, knowing deep in his heart that he was doomed. 'Why me? Who wants me dead?' he thought.
Albus was thinking fast, he needed Potter to compete and die. How had the Longbottom boy been chosen instead? He'd tried to have Potter killed several times now, hoping to satisfy the prophecy made before Harry was born. That, plus as his magical guardian, he'd be able to claim the Potter wealth. It took money to run his organisation, and Harry had no real need for the money, he'd seen to that, keeping him ignorant of his heritage and in his control. "It's for the greater good of the wizarding world," he mumbled to himself.
Of course, if truth were told, it was for Albus Dumbledore's greater good, mostly. The difference between Albus-to-many-names-Dumbledore and Tom Marvolo Riddle was only a matter of degree. Tom liked killing, the rage in him not easily satisfied; Albus preferred others to do it for him, quietly of course.
Later in the Gryffindor common room, Neville was a wreck. Moaning, with his head bent over and in his hands, he continued to ask: "Why me?"
Ron, of course, took it badly. "Neville! How did you do it? You could have told me! I'd have entered my name too. I need the money more than you!" he yelled.
"Cool it Ron," Harry and Hermione echoed together. "Neville says he didn't enter his name, and Hermione and I believe him," Harry stated.
Ron, of course believed in putting not just his foot in his mouth, but the rest of his leg as well. "What a load of crap, Harry! Of course he entered. He's rich and that'll boost his popularity with the girls. I bet he'll have girls lined up to shag him!"
Neville gasped and turned scarlet at this outrage. "I thought you were my friend, Ron. How could you think that?"
Harry interrupted. "Ron! What are you thinking? How can you believe that? Of all the people in our year, Neville is the least likely to have entered his name. You're a real prat; you know that? Apologise to Neville!"
"I will not! He's been looking for something to lord over the rest of us… OOF!"
Harry had punched Ron hard in the stomach, sending the git to the floor.
"What'd you do that for, Harry? I thought you were my friend. You know I'm right. Neville is not worthy to compete."
"Not any more, Ron, Neville deserves my friendship more than you do at the moment."
With that, Harry left a confused and angry Ron and headed up to bed, sealing the curtains behind him. He couldn't understand Ron's attitude. 'Most likely jealousy as usual,' he thought. 'Well, I'll help Neville, and probably Hermione will too.'
Nobody believed Ron, but the Slytherins had turned nastier than usual toward Neville, berating him and trying to hex him at every opportunity. At first, Neville cowered, keeping his head down trying to avoid everyone, but in Snape's Potion classes, they managed to torment and sabotage him to the point of tears, all with Professor Snape's tacit approval.
Harry finally had enough and cornered Malfoy, who seemed to be the leader. "Malfoy, if you and your little group of idiots continue to torment Neville, I'll make sure you are the end of the Malfoy family line." Draco blustered, but having run into Harry enough over the years, backed off.
Alastor "Mad Eye" Moody was the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this year and the lessons started off with a bang.
"You students are seriously behind in your knowledge of defence against the dark arts! After reviewing your previous years studies, I can only conclude that a pair of incompetents has taught you. Only last year with the Werewolf Lupin were you taught anything useful. This year I'll be teaching you something much more interesting: how to fight back against someone trying to curse you. Constant Vigilance!" And he banged his cane on the desk, startling everyone.
Harry and Hermione decided to try and teach Neville some spells, to get his confidence up and hopefully help him to survive the tournament. The new trio knew Neville didn't have a hope of winning, but if he could survive, it would be enough. Night after night in an empty classroom, they drilled him in basic defence and finally in fitness. It was welcome news that they had a good DADA teacher and Mad Eye was one of the best. The three of them took up running and serious exercise. At first, they were barely able to make it around the lake without collapsing in exhaustion. A month later, Neville had lost all his "baby fat" and could make two trips around the lake before collapsing, breathing heavily. Harry and Hermione found that they actually liked the exercise and while Harry was still quite thin and wiry, he had put on some serious muscle. Hermione had likewise trimmed herself up nicely with some curves beginning to show.
Now, in the mornings before breakfast, they would meet up with Fleur, who also decided it was a good idea to train. Viktor avoided the others on Headmaster Karkaroff's orders, and trained secretly.
Fleur had spotted Harry running, one morning and decided she wanted to get closer to Harry. Eventually Hermione had accepted the older girl and found her to be quite pleasant and not the stuck-up snob she had originally pegged her as.
Fleur had talked to Cho Chang, a pretty Ravenclaw in her fifth year who had approached her about Neville. Cho knew Neville was a very smart boy, particularly in Herbology. Her parents were the major supplier of herbs and exotic plants to the apothecary shops in the wizarding world. Not just in Britain, but also in Asia and the rest of Europe. Getting to know Neville would be advantageous and now that he was beginning to look buff, she was attracted to him.
Neville was instantly attracted to the pretty longhaired Chinese girl and with a little egging on from Harry and Hermione, asked her to join them in their exercises. Cho was a little hesitant at first, but after a week, had begun to really enjoy the company and exercise.
Fleur was treading carefully, knowing Harry and Hermione had a long time friendship. Her Veela blood sang to her, drawing her closer to Harry and she became almost reckless as she finally decided to pursue him. Hermione couldn't quite decide about Fleur. Sure, she respected the older girl and thought she could see Harry responding to what were obvious advances. Hermione thought of Harry as a younger brother and was determined to protect him.
When Harry had brought Fleur, Hermione and Neville to meet Hagrid, he had let slip that the first task involved dragons.
"Dragons, Neville had moaned. I'm doomed!" Even Fleur was fearful and Harry wondered what the Headmaster was playing at.
The first task almost saw the end of Neville. He had faced the Chinese Fireball dragon, but with a lot of preparation with Cho, he was able to subdue the dragon with a combination of powerful herbs that he'd banished toward it, extinguishing it's fire and allowing a quick dash for the golden egg. Unfortunately, as he was making his way to safety, the dragon sneezed and the resulting fireball singed Neville quite badly. Cho was beside herself with worry and Harry and Hermione ran to help him to the medical tent, under the scowling eyes of the judges. Madam Pomfrey's best efforts to shoo Cho away could not persuade her to leave his side while he was treated.
Fleur had the Swedish Short Snout and had managed to charm it asleep with her Veela charms, but she suffered a broken shoulder when the dragon's tail whacked her before she could get fully clear. Harry rushed to the medical tent to see about her condition, a fact that did not pass unnoticed by the Headmaster.
'Perhaps Mr. Potter has feelings for the girl. Maybe I can use Miss Delacour instead of working Miss Granger into my plans,' he mused. 'It would be much better to blame the French chit for his death than an English girl.'
Harry was frantic. Fleur and he had become close friends over the past month and Harry couldn't believe that she would have to face a dragon. "Fleur! Are you all right? That was a nasty hit…" Harry would have hugged her, but Madam Pomfrey shooed him away. "Really, Mr. Potter, you shouldn't be in here. Miss Delacour will be fine. Not even a scar after I heal the shoulder. It might be sore for a week or two, but Veelas heal fast. Now be gone and let me finish. You can see her later."
Harry hung around the tent, waiting for Fleur until she finally walked out, rubbing her shoulder.
"Did you see the scores?" she asked. 'Ow did Viktor do and what about poor Neville?"
"Oh Neville is doing fine," he smirked. "Cho has firmly latched onto him. He did pretty well with a score of 40. You were amazing, but with Karkaroff clearly favouring Krum, you still scored 45 out of 50. Krum's dragon wound up trampling the eggs and despite Karkaroff awarding him full marks, he wound up tied with Neville. You're in the lead!"
And then he did something quite unexpected and pulled Fleur into a quick kiss. Fleur gasped, as they broke apart, wondering where that had come from. A bright flash startled them and Rita Skeeter and Bozo, her photographer, were grinning, having secured a front-page news item for the Daily Prophet.
Harry's face was red and he stammered an apology. "I'm sorry Fleur, I shouldn't have done that. Now it'll be all over the wizarding world."
Fleur smirked. "'Arry, it's all right, zey will forget it in a few weeks. Besides, it was sweet; I really like you 'Arry."
"Mr. Potter, are you dating Miss Delacour? Can you comment for the Prophet?" Skeeter pressured, an acid green quill furiously scribbling notes.
Fleur inserted herself firmly between Rita and Harry. "'Arry and I are just friends and if you print one word of the lies your Quick Quote Quill is writing, I'll sue your sorry arse back to Lands End!"
Rita sneered, "The people have a right to know," and quickly disappeared. The Alure that Fleur had radiated had reduced Bozo, to a drooling idiot. Picking up the magical camera, she quickly emptied the film and escorted Harry away, grinning evilly.
"And zat should take care of zat" she smirked happily. "Come 'Arry, we 'ave much to talk about.
Hermione had joined them as they walked back to the Beauxbatons carriage. "Fleur, I don't think you understand the British wizarding press. Rita can print pretty much what she likes and there is no way to sue her. The wizarding government has control of the Daily Prophet and ignores what they print as long as it doesn't defame the people in power. Anyone else is fair game and Harry is certainly more than fair game."
"But zat is 'orrible. Is zere no remedy? Anozer paper, per'aps? At least zey don't have pictures."
"Maybe… Harry, do you think Luna's dad would print… no, let's just leave it be. No point fueling the fire." Hermione had watched the two develop what promised to be a romantic relationship, and she quite approved. Harry had suffered a really shitty life with his relatives and all that had happened at the school. Fleur could be just what he needed.
Harry, being a hormonal teenager, had been having dreams about Fleur lately, most of which he would not dare to speak aloud to anyone, not even Ron and especially not Hermione or heaven forbid, Fleur.
Another pair of eyes had taken note of the interaction between Potter and Delacour. He'd have to take action fairly soon to salvage his own plans. Potter could not be allowed to live.
Hermione bid the two goodbye with a promise to meet them for dinner.
Fleur led Harry into Fleur's carriage, greeting Madame Maxime and accepting her congratulations on the first task. "Fleur, you should be careful inviting Mr. Potter in here. Tongues will wag."
"Headmistress, 'Arry and I need to talk in private and ze carriage is ze only place we can assure zat privacy," she responded.
"Very well, Fleur, just be careful. It's nice to see you again Mr. Potter."
"Thank you, Headmistress, the pleasure is mine."
'Such a nice, polite young man,' she thought, 'so unlike most of the arrogant British wizards. Fleur has chosen well. Now, if he's as powerful as we suspect he is, he will eventually make a fine addition to her family. The Delacours are a very powerful line and any children of theirs would be bound to be influential in the world. I must notify Fleur's maman soon. She will be ever so pleased.'
Of course Harry was blissfully unaware of all these machinations as they sat on Fleur's bed. "Fleur, what do we have to discuss…" But he was cut off when Fleur pulled him down on top of her, kissing him deeply.
"Mfff, Fleur! What?"
"'Arry, I'm just continuing what you started," she smirked, pleased that he hadn't pulled away and if the bulge in his jeans was any indication, at least part of his anatomy wanted more.
Harry blushed, trying to adjust his sudden reaction, and not really having much success. Her soft breasts flattened against his chest and he could feel her nipples harden. That was not helping anything either and the bulge just got painfully harder. The sudden kiss had awoken something in him that he was still trying to analyze, but he knew he wanted more.
"Not yet, mon amour, later per'aps." She released him and they sat up, breathing heavily. "I zink I'd love to 'ave you as my boyfriend, 'Arry. Would you?"
"Fleur, I'd love to have you as my girlfriend, but it could get complicated. You live in France and I'm stuck at my horrible relatives during the summer. I'd never see you."
"'Arry, zis is my last year at Beauxbatons, We will arrange somezing, trust me. Now tell me about zeeze 'orrible relatives."
Fleur was outraged when he told her how his life was at the Dursleys. She threatened revenge on "zoze peegs." They continued to talk, kissing often and hugging when Harry finally mentioned supper.
Talk at supper was all about how well Neville did. He'd gained a lot of respect in just one day. Of course Ron continued to discount anything Neville had done, crediting it too dumb luck.
Everyone pretty much ignored Ron, although the Slytherins continued with their disparaging remarks. Malfoy, however was strangely quiet.
Over the next month, Neville, with Cho's help, finally figured out the clue in the egg. Cho suggested he use the prefect's bath and listen to it underwater. She joined him in the bath, much to a blushing Neville's pleasure. Cho and Neville had become an item at Hogwarts, just as Harry and Fleur had. The Prophet's article had created a few howlers to Fleur, but she had quickly banished them after she'd heard the first one from Molly Weasley, calling her "A Scarlet Woman" and worse. Hermione figured that Mrs. Weasley wanted Harry for her daughter Ginny. She was glad that Harry had chosen Fleur; Ginny seemed like a "Boy-Who-Lived" fan girl.
Neville had passed the hint about the egg to Fleur and she and Harry had a very enjoyable time in the prefect's bath, touching and exploring each other. It took weeks for Fleur to get Harry used to intimacy, but once he did, his natural shyness evaporated. The message was clear to Fleur: Harry would be the thing she would miss most, but how to protect and rescue him was the question.
The Yule ball was fast approaching and Harry was glad he had purchased elegant robes on Mr. Weasley's advice after the Quidditch World Cup.
He had asked Fleur to be his date and she readily accepted, much to the disappointment of the rest of the Hogwarts boys.
Hermione was going with Charlie Weasley, who had stayed to watch the rest of the tournament instead of returning to the dragon reserve in Romania. He had asked her one evening after the ball was announced and she was happy to accept. When Ron found out, he was furious that his own brother had beat him, although he'd only decided to ask Hermione as a last resort.
Neville, of course, was escorting Cho Chang and Viktor had asked Lavender Brown, after finding Hermione unavailable. That had really pissed Ron off and he finally asked Luna Lovegood after all the pretty girls had been spoken for. She was a bit hesitant, but finally accepted, since she would not normally have been able to go. She had secretly hoped that Harry would invite her, before she learned about Fleur being Harry's girlfriend.
The evening of the ball, Harry waited for Fleur to arrive outside the Great Hall. He saw Hermione arrive with Charlie and was happy for his best friend. Evidently Charlie was happy too when he saw her. She was wearing a periwinkle blue gown that showed her assets to best advantage. She had done something with her hair to tame it from bushy untamable, to a sleek beautiful hairdo that suited her. Just a hint of makeup turned a somewhat plain bookworm, into one of the most desirable girls at the ball. Many a male wished that they had invited the suddenly beautiful Gryffindor girl.
Then Fleur entered and all heads turned. She was beyond beautiful, her silver blonde hair cascading down her bare back. The gown, a white strapless that seemed to be a part of her, hugged every curve and accentuated her breasts. The gown flowed smoothly to ankle height and was slit up the side, revealing a pair of perfectly formed legs. A bare hint of perfume and makeup completed the effect.
Harry's mouth opened and closed several times before he could utter a word. "Wow, Fleur, you're dazzling!" He pulled her closer, taking her hand and escorted her into the Great Hall.
"Zank you 'Arry, you look quite delectable yourself."
Harry escorted her to a table with the other champions. Neville sat with Cho, who looked very pretty in a silver sheath gown. Viktor sat with Lavender, who had dressed in a pale lavender gown (of course). Nodding to the others, they discovered that they had to speak their dinner orders to the plate in front of them. Fleur ordered for both of them, telling Harry he should try some French cuisine. Harry found that he quite enjoyed the selection Fleur ordered.
When everyone had finished eating, the plates and tables were cleared out of the way in preparation for the dance.
Fleur knew that Harry had never danced before and took it upon herself to teach him. That had been one of Harry's most memorable evenings. They found a vacant classroom and Fleur produced a Wizarding Wireless set tuned to a muggle music station.
(Flashback one week)
"Arry, don't stand zo far away. Zis ees a dance, not a converzazion."
Harry blushed and moved closer to her, taking her hand in his and placing his other on her slim waist.
"Clozer, 'Arry, I want to feel the man I'm dancing wiz."
There was only an inch or so separating them and Fleur did a quick spell and Harry suddenly knew how to dance. They twirled and stepped together in a basic waltz, which flowed into a more sensuous Bossa Nova. Harry blushed a deep red as he discovered just how sensuous the dance was, their bodies touching and brushing erotically. After awhile, Fleur took pity on him and taught him a few of the more common teenage dances, before returning to a few more Latin dances. The Cha-Cha Rumba the Samba were nice and sensual but in the end, he found he loved the Bossa Nova best. Being in Fleur's arms was like dancing in heaven. At the end, they enjoyed a passionate kiss, their tongues dancing together.
As the champions danced the opening waltz, Harry came to appreciate the lessons Fleur had given him. The spell had ended, but now he knew how to dance. Neville danced well, having had lessons from his grandmother, and Viktor was an accomplished dancer as well.
Then they moved to a Latin beat, that Fleur has secretly asked the Weird Sisters to play. "Harry, lets show them how to really dance."
Harry gulped, knowing instinctively what she was suggesting. "So, the Bossa Nova?" he whispered.
Fleur nodded and they started the dance. But it was a dance no one else was prepared for and as the couple flowed around the dance floor, gasps were heard at how well they danced together. The dance was very sensual and more than one couple goggled at how intimate it seemed. Even Hermione gaped and Ron turned a shade of red that matched his hair.
"That… that," he sputtered. "Is that even allowed?"
Luna replied, "I think they make a lovely couple. Have you never heard of 'The Dance of Love'?"
"Oh," Ron squeaked, turning an even brighter red as Harry and Fleur seemed to grow even more intimate as the dance progressed. "Is that what it's called? They should take that to…"
"Don't finish that statement," Hermione warned. "That's a perfectly normal dance and they're performing it exceptionally well."
"Normal? You're kidding, right?"
Luna answered her thickheaded date. "Just because you've never seen it before. Don't be such a prude."
There were several whistles and catcalls from the males present. Their partners gave them death glares and they soon quieted. At the end of the dance, the dancers gave them an enthusiastic applause.
The ball continued, with several more normal slow dances, while Harry and Fleur sat down to catch their breath and cool down.
Hermione approached with Charlie, congratulating them in their fantastic display. "Harry, I didn't know you could dance that well. I think Miss Delacour probably had something to do with that didn't you Fleur?
Fleur blushed and nodded.
Charley, who had been enjoying dancing with Hermione, nodded in agreement and with Harry, went off to get some drinks for the girls.
"Harry, congratulations on snagging the most beautiful girl of the ball. I hope you don't mind me dating Hermione, I know she's a special friend to you."
"It's okay Charley, you're one of the few people I'd trust to date Hermione. Just don't hurt her, she hasn't had many friends and I think Ron has been particularly horrible to her over the years."
"Yeah, Ron can be a jealous twit, but I think he needs to grow up. I see he's with Luna Lovegood tonight. Luna and he used to be good friends before he started school. She could be good for him if she has the patience. Hermione is someone special and I think I'll try to have a relationship with her if she'll agree."
"Hermione is very sensitive underneath her bossy bookish exterior. She's saved me several times in the past and although I look on her as a sister I never had, I'd hate to have her crushed by someone that doesn't really care."
"I'll be careful with her Harry, I promise. I don't know if we'll work, but I intend to find out."
Bringing the drinks back to the girls, Hermione and Fleur were giggling in their "girl talk" mode when Neville and Cho joined them.
"Having fun, Neville?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, Cho's an excellent dancer, but I must say I'm impressed with how you and Fleur danced. My Gran taught me how to dance and I was able to keep up with Cho, but you two were in a class by yourselves. By the way Harry, Fleur, thanks for getting Cho and me together. It's really helped my self confidence and she's a wonderful person." Cho blushed prettily at that and gave him a quick peck on the lips.
"So, Hermione," Harry asked, "you and Charlie?"
Hermione blushed and nodded her head. "I like Charlie. He's fun to be with and he's a good dancer." Charlie just grinned. He was having the best time he'd ever had.
After a few more dances, with Harry enjoying the heady experience of dancing close to his girlfriend, the two stepped out for a breath of fresh air.
Walking in the magically warmed air, with flowers blooming through the snow, they found a quiet bench, hidden from the walk by bushes. As he looked into her clear blue eyes, Harry suddenly became nervous, knowing what he wanted to say, but afraid she would not take him seriously.
"F-Fleur," he stuttered, clearing his throat. "I-I know we've only known each other for a short time, but I find I've fallen in love with you. I've never known what love was before, but I've never felt this way before either."
"Hush, my love, I love you too," she said huskily. "Our magic has drawn us together, I can feel it. As a Veela, I instinctively know these things. We are very compatible, scarily so in fact. At some point we may bond, but probably not just…" Her words were cut off as a golden glow started to surround them, growing more intense by the second. Fleur gasped, aware of what was happening and moaned. "Not yet, Merlin help us, not yet! 'Ee's not ready!"
Harry, unaware what was occurring opened his mouth in awe as his world suddenly turned upside down.
Fleur tried to fight it, but it was too late. The bond that Fleur had mentioned had taken hold and both were drawn into a swirl of colour and passion. As their lips joined, her need for him overwhelmed them both. Harry only remembered part of what happened next. His need to take the girl and consummate the bond blurred his memory. Clothes were hastily ripped off and nature took its course. They both started recovering long minutes later, naked and not yet sated, their bodies still connected. Harry was still hard inside her, and hadn't finished ejaculating yet. Fleur's powerful orgasm was just ending, spasms still consuming her body as she came down from the edge of oblivion.
"Oh my God! What have I done?" Harry whispered. "Fleur. I'm so sorry, I-I couldn't control myself," as he withdrew.
Fleur, breathing hard, in her own dazed world, could only answer, "It's my fault, 'Arry. We've bonded; we're now mates for life. I only 'ope I'm not pregnant yet, but I fear that may have happened as well. We'll definitely have to talk to Maman. She should be the first to know. Oh 'Arry, I'm so sorry, I never meant for this to 'appen so soon. I zot we would 'ave a few years."
"Hush Fleur, we both knew we were meant to be. It's just a lot sooner than we expected. I love you Fleur and want you for my wife. I know I'm young, but I've never felt so sure of something in my life. Will you marry me?"
Fleur's eyes flashed brightly and with a beautiful smile said, "Yes 'Arry, yes my love. But we must not tell anyone 'ere. Zey would not understand.
"What about Professor Dumbledore and Madame Maxime?"
"Non, 'Arry, zey would try to keep us apart, particularly Dumbledore. I don't trust 'im."
Quickly cleaning themselves and dressing, (they had to repair their clothing, since it was practically shredded in their frantic need to copulate) they returned to the Ball.
Several people noticed a subtle change in the couple, particularly Hermione. 'Oh my, they have that just shagged look! I hope they didn't. If they bonded, that won't be good. I'll have to talk to them privately,' she thought.
Most of the rest misinterpreted the subtle change to the couple kissing outside, but Dumbledore wondered if perhaps more might have happened. He didn't like the possibility that they might have bonded. 'Well, the next task should take care of that in any case, perhaps both would die.'
Little did he know that his plans would fail spectacularly.
A/N3: This has moved the relationship along much further than I'd originally planned, but there's lots more to come.