Capítulo 18: Chapter 19
It had been a day like any other for the most part, but Luna just didn't
feel right at the end of it.
It made no sense. She was in bed with Harry, he was holding her
and his penis was pressed up against her bum. That was always
right. Yet it wasn't. It made no sense.
It had been like this for a while now, but she had dismissed it at first
as being caused by a stray wrackspurt. Except it clearly wasn't.
Something had changed and not for the better. She wasn't doing
anything different, so it had to be Harry.
"Harry, why did you change the way you hug me?" She asked.
"What?" He sounded confused. She supposed that was fair, he'd
probably been thinking of something else.
"It used to be really nice and warm and safe and comfortable and
now it isn't. It was better before. Why did you change it?" Luna knew
that she sounded petulant, but she felt entitled to a bit of petulance
right now. Why would anyone trade in good cuddles for less good
ones? Harry was being stupid.
Harry sank into that broody silence that he had whenever he was in
deep thought. How exciting. That probably meant it was a secret and
Harry had the best secrets. Secrets like being an Animagus and that
he had a Deathly Hallow! She wondered what this new secret was.
He exhaled heavily before speaking. "I guess I might as well tell you,
I was thinking about it anyway. You're probably the only person in the
world that won't freak out over it at least."
Harry was rambling. That meant he was nervous. Luna squirmed in
his embrace and turned around so that she was facing him and
stared at him expectantly.
She'd been right, it was a great secret. About Sex Magic and soul
manipulation and all sorts of fascinating things.
"I'm really sorry." He apologized once he was done, sounding very
regretful. "The book you gave me didn't mention any of this."
What a silly thing to be sorry for. "Why did you stop?"
"Huh?"
"Why did you stop doing The Joining? It felt good and I liked it. I
want you to start doing it again."
"Luna, I don't want to brainwash you!" Harry protested and Luna had
to remind herself that for all of his intelligence, he was still fully
capable of being stupid.
"You're my best friend, Harry. I trust you. Now stop being silly and
hold me properly." And with that she wiggled back into a spooning
position and waited for The Joining, wondering if she could feel it
now that she knew it was coming.
To her disappointment she couldn't, but Harry's arms felt like home
again so it was alright.
Harry was sitting on his bed, pondering the nature of women.
What was it about the female species that caused them to take an
eternity to get ready for an event? Luna had been in the bathroom
for nearly an hour now. And that was after the bath they had taken
together. Harry had been ready to go for well over half of that time.
He had decided to be a bit cheeky with his choice of dress and
disdained robes of any kind. Instead, he was wearing a distinctly
mundane set of black pants, white shirt, black shoes and an open
black jacket. He might not be willing to put up with the bother of
blowing off the ball entirely, but he wasn't above poking the tradition
minded organisers in the eye at a time when they couldn't say
anything about it. Not without causing a scene at least, which would
perhaps be even better.
Luna at last stepped out of the bathroom and Harry had to grin at the
sight. She had an interesting fashion sense, that was for sure.
Her dress was nothing outrageous, a pale blue that showed off her
developing figure without being crass and a pair of matching shoes.
That was where the adherence to normal procedure ended however.
She had on a pair of radish themed earrings whose color clashed
horribly with the dress. Around her neck was a butterbeer cork
necklace very similar to the one that she had once given him as a
gift. And finally, her hair was done up in a bun and pinned into place
with her wand, a sight that was sure to get people talking since most
wizards and witches treated their wands with borderline reverence
and not as hair ornaments.
"Looking good, Luna." He complimented, still grinning. She really
was too, but her quirky accessories were hilarious.
"You too, Harry." She said back. "Those muggle clothes really bring
out your bum."
"I'm glad you think so." Harry replied drolly and stood up, offering her
his hand. "Shall we?"
She took his hand and they started making their way towards the
Entrance Hall. Thanks to the out of the way location of Harry's
quarters, they didn't run into anyone for the vast majority of the way
there.
Their entrance attacted some attention, but actually not quite as
much as he'd though it would since most people seemed too
preoccupied to stare at them. Will wonders never cease and all that.
A gaggle of Slytherins came up from the dungeons, with Draco
Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson in the lead. Draco had a high collared
dress robe that made Harry think of some strange mix between a
priest and a vampire. Pansy was even worse in an excessively frilly
pink dress. With her somewhat upturned nose, he just couldn't help
but think of a fat pig ready to be slaughtered. It could just be the Void
playing tricks on his mind again though. Maybe.
A unique presence of sunlight and fire shone through the melange of
purely human auras as Fleur entered, looking fabulous in a dress of
silver-grey satin. She was being accompanied by Roger Davies, a
seventh year Ravenclaw that looked to be having a spot of trouble
with her Allure.
"'Arry." Fleur greeted, giving him an appreciative look. "You look very
'andsome."
"Fleur." He gave her a charming smile. "More beautiful than ever I
see."
"Potter." Roger cut in, stepping closer to the veela as if afraid that
Harry would steal her from him.
"Davies." Harry said back, fighting down a smirk at the insecurity of
the older but shorter student.
"Luna!" Luna piped up cheerfully.
"Right, you two haven't been introduced yet." Harry realized. "Fleur,
Luna. Luna, Fleur."
"Eet eez nice to meet you." Fleur said, shaking hands with the
strange girl that had kept her from getting the date she wanted and
trying not to feel resentful about it.
Roger wasn't terrible, but he was a third choice at best. With Harry
having turned her down, she had needed to find a substitute. A
distant second choice had been a handsome boy by the name of
Cedric Diggory, but she had seen that he was already with a pretty
Asian witch and Fleur wasn't going to sink so low as to poach
someone else's man.
It was a truly bizarre state of events when a woman of her beauty
was having difficulty getting a date, but they were in Britain. After
having an invitation shouted in her face by a rude redheaded boy
whom she had noted several times before as having no resistance to
her Allure whatsoever, she had resigned herself to the fact that she
was going to have to settle for someone… suboptimal.
And that was why she had accepted the invitation from Roger.
Hopefully he would have enough resistance to the Allure to keep
from drooling on her at least.
She was still intending to monopolize as much of Harry's time as
possible though, even if something about his magic made her heart
flutter with trepidation at the moment. She knew him well enough by
now to ignore it for the most part, though she was terribly curious
why his magic had such a strange feeling to it. But that wasn't
something you just asked about.
"Champions, over here please!" Came the call from a recently
arrived Professor McGonnagal, who was looking very Scottish in red
tartan dress robes.
Harry fought down another smirk when she did a double take at him
and Luna, swallowed her obvious objection and started explaining
what they were to do.
The four of them walked from the entrance to the top table where the
judges were sitting, though Harry noted with mixed feelings that
Umbridge had been replaced by Percy Weasley of all people. On
one hand this was good, because the less he saw of the toad the
better… but on the other hand, it was Percy Weasley. Out of the five
of them, Karkaroff stood out the most due to the sheer negativity of
his presence. He was probably still sour about Krum becoming
dragon kebab. Or maybe it was because he was obligated to stay
until the end of the tournament even if the Durmstrang champion had
been killed.
Percy looked him right in the eye as they approached and and held
out a chair, clearly wanting him to sit there.
Harry would have really liked to sit somewhere else, but there was
actually nowhere else to sit. Sitting next to Karkaroff would probably
be a tense affair that would end with one of them getting bullied
away from the table… and it wouldn't be him. Sitting next to Bagman
would be more annoying than listening to a five year old chatter.
Fleur would assuredly take the spot next to Madam Maxime and
Dumbledore was just twinkling at him.
Left with no choice, he sat next to his steward's ex-boyfriend with the
expectation that Percy wouldn't keep his mouth shut like a good little
peon.
He was proven right, as his arse had barely settled into the chair
before the redhead started talking.
"I've been promoted." He announced as if this was actually
important, looking and sounding so smug that he might as well have
'punch me in the mouth' written on his forehead. "I'm now Madam
Umbridge's personal assistant, and I'm here representing her."
"Failing upwards I see." Harry replied snidely.
"I'd watch my tone if I was you, Potter." Percy's reply was something
between blustering self-importance and anger.
"Or else what?" Harry asked, actually quite amused. "Are you going
to cry to Umbitch that I was mean to you? And where is the toad
anyway?"
Percy's face went red with indignation and he struggled to find a
comeback. Eventually he decided to answer the question because
he couldn't find one. His threat had been an idle one.
"She's at the Ministry doing important work." He said haughtily and
turned away.
That 'important work' actually happened to be the fallout of Krum's
death, as it was the British Ministry of Magic taking the heat for the
death of Bulgaria's rising quidditch star. Accusations were being
thrown around, some of them way off the mark and some of them
uncomfortably close to it. The one's about Britain wanting Krum dead
because he was too good at quidditch was way off the mark, the one
about the switch to the most dangerous dragon species being a
deliberate murder attempt was close to it, though for all the wrong
reasons.
In short, Fudge was quickly finding himself overwhelmed and had
recalled Umbridge to help him in her capacity as Senior
Undersecretary. The fact that most of the DIMC was now staffed with
incompetent sycophants was not helping the matter at all. It was also
largely the reason for Percy's promotion. Bootlicking toady he might
be, but he was at least somewhat competent. In comparison.
It never occured to Fudge that Umbridge's particular brand of
diplomacy would not improve the situation.
But that was elsewhere.
"Catching flies with her tongue no doubt." Harry snarked for the sole
purpose of getting the last word in.
Percy pretended not to hear as he got into a debate with Bagman.
Harry smirked and told his plate what food he would like, figuring that
the Eavesdropping Charm on it was linked to the kitchen. It was also
a convenient way to listen in on any conversations going on, but he
doubted that was the purpose here and he hadn't said anything
worth knowing anyway.
"You shouldn't play with Percy like that." Luna commented now that
the verbal spar was over. She never got involved in them. "He has
so many wrackspurts that he isn't any match for you."
"Wrackspurts for days?" Harry snickered.
"For days and days." She confirmed.
Harry snickered some more and pondered Percy's reasoning for
even starting that. Well there wasn't much pondering to be done
really. Given that they'd never interacted before and had only one
thing in common. Penny. The redheaded ponce had wanted to brag
about his 'success' in order to soothe his own ego. The position of
steward for a Noble House was a prestigious one and usually
handled either by the Lady of the House or a trusted family member.
To his knowledge it had never been held by a muggleborn. That he'd
given it to Penny would have rubbed a lot of people wrong, but none
of them quite so much as her pompous ex-boyfriend, who she had
dumped on the very day that she had gotten it.
That minor mystery solved, he looked around the table to see if there
was anything interesting going on.
Fleur was ranting to Davies about how much more amazing
Beauxbatons was than Hogwarts, an opinion that Harry suspected
was at least partially based on the longstanding rivarly between
France and Britain. The rant was clearly wasted on Davies, who
looked as if he was about to start drooling. That was pretty much it.
Once all the food was eaten, Dumbledore stood up and waved his
wand to clear the tables and make room for dancing. As a final touch
he raised a platform that was clearly meant for the band.
"Time to dance I guess." Harry muttered and took Luna's hand,
leading her to the floor. Fleur and Davies did the same.
The dance was a stiffly formal affair and not particularly enjoyable,
but not really onerous either. Even the stares tapered off towards the
end as other people started joining in.
"Oh dear, looks like Fleur isn't having a whole lot of fun." Luna
commented.
Harry turned them around to look and saw that Fleur was indeed not
having a whole lot of fun. Her date had a distinctly glazed look to him
and was having trouble focusing on anything aside from the veela,
including his feet. Only the fact that the dance was very slow was
saving him from making a disaster of it.
"Alas, poor Roger, for he is weak of mind." Harry sighed dramatically.
"I'm surprised that you can keep your attention away from her." Luna
noted. "You used to stare at girls all the time and Fleur has an arse
you could bounce a galleon off of."
Harry took a quick look to confirm this, or re-confirm as the case may
be. Yes, it was true, Fleur's French derriere was magnificent. And
her breasts were nothing to sneer at either. If the veela species as a
whole ever got bored with magic, they could mount an assault on the
modeling industry that would leave it populated exclusively with
supernaturally beautiful blondes. Only the lack of variety might spare
the brown skinned brunettes of the world.
"That was years ago and I've mastered my impulses since then." He
said loftily. The constant presence of Dark after sundown also helped
to dull that particular impulse.
Luna simply hummed in response and took another look at the
increasingly annoyed looking veela. "You promised her a dance
didn't you?"
"Something like that." Harry shrugged. Fleur had a bad habit of
beating around the bush when she wanted something, so she had
merely implied heavily that she wanted to dance with him rather than
asking for it.
"This is a good time to rescue her then, the song is about to end."
"I suppose we should." Harry mused. "It would be the polite thing to
do. I get the feeling that Davies may not be feeling cooperative
though."
"I'll take care of Roger." Luna said serenely and steered them
towards the two.
Fleur saw them coming and Harry had to fight down a grin at the
hope on her face. Davies was really not making a good impression.
"Excuse me, Fleur. Do you mind if Roger dances with me?" Luna
asked.
"Not at all." Fleur was quick to assure, almost to the point of
rudeness actually.
"Wonderful. Come along, Roger."
"But-" The seventh year tried to protest.
"Have fun now." Harry talked over him and edged him away from the
veela, which was easy enough to do since she helped.
Davies gave him a dirty look as Luna led him away, probably thinking
something best left unsaid in polite company.
" Merci, I zink 'e waz about to start drooling." Fleur said with relief.
The ominous feel of his magic at this close proximity made an icy
chill go up her spine, but she resolutely ignored it. It was still better
than putting up with an Allure addled wizard.
"We saw. How did you end up with him anyway?" He asked, settling
into the new, faster paced dance.
Fleur was disappointed that he hadn't taken the opportunity to flirt,
but kept it off her face. There was still plenty of time in the ball for
that.
"'E was the least terrible option of zose zat were still available." She
shrugged, giving her breasts a deliberate jiggle, which she was glad
to see his eyes flick towards. That was good, because if he had
turned out to be gay, Fleur would have felt very stupid. And upset.
"A scathing assessment of the Hogwarts male population." Harry
said, vastly amused.
"You at least are adequate." Fleur replied haughtily, smiling slightly.
"I'm so glad that all that dance practice isn't going to waste." He
drolled.
"Eet eez not." She assured him. "You are not az good az a
Frenchman, but eet will do."
"I may not dance as well as the French, but at least I bathe
regularly." Harry ribbed back.
Fleur was once again disappointed that he hadn't taken the
opportunity to suggest that she give him private dancing lessons but
smiled at the nationalist crack anyway. If nothing else, he was more
of a challenge than someone who would be too affected by her
Allure to even hold a proper conversation.
They kept up the lighthearted banter as they moved through the
dance. Fleur gave him opportunities to flirt as often as she was able
and was frustrated when he took none of them. It made her wonder if
he was doing it on purpose or if he was merely oblivious.
"Looks like Davies has managed to escape from Luna." Harry
observed as the song neared conclusion, seeing the seventh year
approach with a determined look in his eye.
Fleur muttered something under her breath that sounded
suspicioulsy like ' merde '.
"Potter, can I have my date back now?" Roger asked, though it
sounded more like a demand than a question.
"No can do, Davies. Fleur's already promised me the next dance."
Harry replied, amused at the seventh year's bristling.
"Eet eez true, Roger." Fleur was quick to back him up, causing the
Ravenclaw's face to fall. "I will zee you later."
"Can you get rid of 'im?" She asked as soon as they were out of
hearing range. "I do not wish to zpend ze 'ole evening avoiding 'im."
The funny part was that if it wasn't for Harry, she might have taken
Roger back to the Beauxbatons carriages and… made use of him.
An Allure addled wizard was still good for a bit of playtime. Kind of
like a sex toy and about as intelligent as one too. As it was, she was
entirely focused on Harry and Roger was getting in the way.
"I could, but I want something in return."
"And what would you like?" If this were any other wizard, she would
expect him to ask for sex. That was something that she would not be
opposed to in principle, though she would be opposed to being
treated like a prostitute. Veela were sensual by nature, but also
tended to have a prickly sense of pride. It made for some volatile
combinations.
But she didn't expect that to come up here. Harry Potter was being
quite obtuse towards her hints, deliberately or otherwise.
"A private conversation about some potentially sensitive topics."
Harry answered vaguely. The issue of Sex Magic continued to
plague him and Fleur was the closest thing to an expert he had
access to baring Adrastia Zabini, who was not necessarily
trustworthy. He would have to part with a secret or two in exchange
for that information, but he had a little insurance. Adrastia had taught
him the value of preparing leverage ahead of time if nothing else.
Fleur's curiousity was well and truly piqued by that and she agreed
easily.
"Alright, now to get rid of Davies." Harry muttered. "Take the lead, I'll
need to focus. And get us close to him."
Fleur fluidly stepped up to take the lead, noting how distracted Harry
had become. It was like dancing with a well balanced and articulated
manequin. She steered them towards the table where Roger was
sulking, Luna smiling vapidly next to him.
Some thiry seconds later, Roger Davies experienced a terrible
itching sensation paired with a desire to go back to his room in order
to take care of it.
"What did you do?" Fleur asked in wonder.
"Itching Curse combined with a mid level compulsion." Harry
explained smugly. He was rather proud of that one.
"With no wand?" She breathed in shock. Aura manipulation was one
thing, but this…? She'd thought that his previous use of Itching
Curses had been done with some clever sleight of hand to conceal
his wand, but with one hand currently in hers and the other on her
back, that simply wasn't possible. And what was this about
combining spells?
"Keep that to yourself for now, yeah? I'm not looking to announce
that skill publically just yet." Harry cautioned.
Fleur felt the creeping cold of his aura briefly swell in intensity and
knew that ignoring his request would be… unwise. She would keep it
to herself, but also found herself impatient for the meeting now.
Aside from rampant curiousity, her interest in Harry had just gone up
a few notches and a private setting after a sensitive conversation
would be a perfect opportunity to seduce him. She doubted that she
would come across a man even half as interesting anywhere in the
near future and she was not going to lose out on account of dithering
uncertainly.
After Roger Davies came down with a powerful itch and left the ball,
Fleur went to sit down and chat with Luna and Harry found himself
assailed by females hoping for a dance with him. The first of them
were Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, a couple of fangirls that
were bolder than the norm, possibly on account of being Gryffindors
and being in the same year as him, for what little that counted these
days.
Harry didn't really have too much of a problem with his fangirls. Yes,
their giggling could get a bit irritating, but the overall attention was
actually kind of flattering. Seeing no need to be a heel and crush
their hopes, he agreed to dance with them.
He danced with Parvati first and Lavender second, each girl beaming
happily the whole time. Their hands also got a bit adventurous, but
Harry let them have their fun. He couldn't really muster any emotion
about being groped by a pretty girl save amusement and mild
arousal.
The success experienced by Lavender and Parvati emboldened the
others and he quickly found himself dancing with girls ranging from
seventh years down to a nervous second year Hufflepuff that he had
to wonder who had invited to begin with.
This was interspersed by an occasional dance with Fleur or Luna,
the former clearly favoring him over other potential dance partners
and the latter just having fun. He had even decided to ask professors
Babbling and Vector to dance with him. Both because they were two
of his favorites and because he figured it was the closest he was
going to get to fulfilling his private fantasy of bedding the pretty
Arithmancy teacher. If nothing else, he had managed to slightly
brighten the moods of the two bored women.
All in all, Harry still thought that formal parties weren't much fun, but
grudgingly recognized that it wasn't their purpose either. Their
purpose was to provide an excuse to socialize with people you
wouldn't normally meet and lower the usual boundaries that applied
in day to day life. He imagined that a woman like Adrastia would be
right at home in an event like this, picking out her future victims with
nobody able to tell her to bugger off because it would be rude.
Two days after the Yule Ball, Fleur was in the seventh floor corridor
looking for a tapestry of a wizard teaching trolls how to dance ballet.
She was so keyed up for this meeting that she didn't even bother to
feel superior about how Beauxbatons would never allow anything so
tasteless to adorn its halls.
She had carefully noted Harry's preference for mundane clothing at
the ball and chosen her outfit accordingly, which was easily done
since magical France was much more relaxed about such things
than Britain. The Beauxbatons uniform was a robe only as a nod to
tradition, but it was an otherwise common sight for French wizards
and witches to be more or less indistinguishable from the mundane
population unless they happened to favor robes for one reason or
another.
Thus Fleur was dressed in strategically tight fitting white pants and a
similarly body hugging pink turtleneck that left none of her form to
the imagination. Casual, but not too casual. Enticing but not thrashy.
The barely existent black thong and matching bra she wore
underneath were far clearer in their purpose.
Veela chose their mates rather differently than human women, by
necessity more than choice. It tended to resemble a predator
pouncing on prey more than a typical courtship, though the prey
most often ran towards them rather than away. Their naturally high
sex drives and certain other attributes didn't really permit a slow
moving relationship. The problem was that the most valued sort of
mate - which she was almost certain Harry was - also happened to
be the most resistant to their charms. It would make the end result all
the sweeter, but it had a proportionally higher chance of failure.
Magical power was not everything of course, but it was an unfailing
indicator of an exceptional person.
Fleur knew that she was a bit young to be deciding on a mate,
having not even finished school and still some years away from full
maturity. Even more, her target was fourteen(ostensibly) and really
should not have been this much of a prize. But the situation was
what it was and Fleur knew better than to let the opportunity pass
her by. Her mother and grandmother would never ler her live it down
if they learned that she had allowed such a wizard to slip away and
done nothing to even attempt snaring him.
The silly tapestry came into view, as did the promised door on the
other side of the hallway and Fleur strode towards it with
determination. All the little details like Harry being fourteen and
British didn't matter. If all went according to plan, then today was the
day that she was going to ride him until he begged for mercy, and
then she was going to keep riding him until he begged for more.
The room she found herself in was more of a richly furnished sitting
room than something she would have expected to find in a school,
but Hogwarts was just about strange enough for this to be possible.
Harry was sitting on a comfortable looking couch and the way that
his eyes raked over her form set her pulse to racing. That was a
good sign. Unfortunately, the blonde girl sitting next to him was a bad
sign.
"Hello." Luna said with a wave.
"Fleur, welcome." Harry greeted warmly. "Please have a seat."
Fleur was a bit put out at Luna's presence, but pushed through it.
The plan could still work. She very deliberately ignored all the other
pieces of furniture in the room and sat on the same couch as the two
of them, on Harry's other side and a bit closer than strictly necessary.
She noticed that Harry's aura was warm and inviting today rather
than cold and ominous.
" Bonjour, 'Arry, Luna." She said, settling down and subtly pushing
out her chest. "Not to be rude, but did you not zay you wanted a
private conversation?"
"Luna has a stake in this too, that's why she's here." Harry
explained, glancing towards the girl.
"Actually, I was hoping that I would get to watch if you two were
going to have sex." Luna corrected.
Fleur had spoken to the smaller blonde during the ball and had
begrudgingly liked her despite the fact that she would been able to
go to the Yule Ball with Harry if not for her, but that still caught her off
guard.
Harry on the other hand did not seem surprised, merely resigned.
"Luna, I already told you that there isn't going to be any sex."
We'll see about that. Fleur thought to herself.
"You shouldn't be so stubborn, Harry." Luna scolded. "Fleur would be
an excellent addition to my harem."
… What?
" Your harem?" Harry asked, sounding just as surprised as Fleur felt.
"I thought it was supposed to be my harem?"
"Harry." The way that the other blonde said his name made Fleur
think of a teacher trying to explain a very simple concept to an
especially dense student. "Just because you would be the only
person with a penis in it doesn't make it your harem."
"She eez right." Fleur agreed firmly, her opinion of Luna rising a few
notches. Veela and succubi were well known to cultivate harems in
the old days, though succubi had also had the unfortunate tendency
of sucking the life out of them.
And on that note, any harems that Fleur would be joining in would
quickly become her harem. The thought of having to share Harry
with another woman was significantly less objectionable than being
in a subordinate position in such an arrangement.
Harry did not seem to agree though and was determined to argue.
"Alright, let's say for a moment that it is your harem. Why then would
I be the only guy in it? Because you know, that seems to be playing
to my sexual preferences."
Fleur was curious about Luna's response to this one so she did
nothing but listen attentively.
"That's simple." Luna said with authority. "Useful things though
penises are, I wouldn't want to wake up with one in my face all the
time. I've already seen yours and judged it more than adequate and
it would probably be my favorite even if I had others to choose from.
Besides, I've seen what you do to poor Nymphadora when you have
enough time and having a couple of extra vaginas to direct you to
when I get tired seems like a good idea."
Harry worked his jaw for a while and then gave the most grudging
concession that Fleur had ever witnessed. "That makes a disturbing
amount of sense."
She was more interested in something else that Luna had said
though. " Excuse-moi, but 'oo eez Nymphadora?"
"My girlfriend, and largely the reason for this conversation actually,
so how about we get to that?" Harry said, clearly hoping to change
the subject.
Fleur had to fight down the unwarranted jealous rage upon learning
that the wizard she had set her sights on was taken, though she
didn't manage to keep her nostrils or aura from flaring. Harry Potter
had to be the most frustrating fourteen year old in existence. Any
other would have been reduced to playdough by her presence alone,
but he just happened to be immune and also taken. Of course, the
fact that he was immune and all that it implied was a large part of the
reason that she wanted him, but that didn't make it any less
frustrating.
Judging by the glance that Harry gave her, he had felt the flare.
"But we haven't even heard Fleur's opinion about joining my harem."
Luna protested.
"Luna, you can't just assume that every girl is bisexual and into
polygamy." Harry explained patiently and with the air of someone
who had done it before.
"All veela are at least somewhat bisexual by necessity and I do not
mind polygamy eef I like everyone involved." Fleur interjected before
Luna could reply to that.
Harry blinked at her owlishly. "Bisexual by necessity?"
" Oui, a veela's sex drive quickly becomes… problematic after
puberty eef eet eez not satisfied frequently. Older veela are usually
willing to 'elp with zis until we are old enough to find our own
bedmates. Eef zere are no alternatives muzzers or older seesters do
zis." Fleur explained, watching Harry's face carefully.
As she had expected he gaped at her in utter shock. It was always
amusing to see people's reactions when they were confronted with
the stark fact that veela were not human and had different needs as
a result. Well it was amusing if they didn't descend into a screaming
rant about the unnaturalness of it, but those people generally weren't
worth talking to in the first place.
"Okay, can't say I saw that coming." Harry muttered to himself, still
looking poleaxed. "Does masturbation not work?"
" Non. " Fleur said shortly, not wanting to get into that issue. The
speculative look on Harry's face made her nervous for some reason.
It wasn't the look of someone thinking about sex, but of someone
pulling apart a puzzle.
"Ooh, ooh!" Luna bounced excitedly. "Did your parents let you watch
them have sex?"
"Zey did." Fleur admitted. " Papa did not want to, but maman insisted
that I needed to zee zo zat I would underztand better and she got 'er
way. Papa eez already dreading ze day when my leetle seester
Gabrielle eez old enough to watch." She finished with a giggle,
remembering her poor father's mortified looks on the mornings after.
"My parents used to let me watch too, but Harry and Nymphadora
never do." Luna pouted.
"Zat eez very irresponsible, 'Arry. You would leave Luna unprepared
for 'er first time rather than let 'er watch?" Fleur scolded, knowing
perfectly well that the same logic that worked for veela didn't apply
for humans but having far too much fun picking on Harry to care.
"Why am I being scolded for not being a deviant?" Harry demanded
incredulously.
Fleur could only give a disdainful sniff in response. "A deviant
according to 'oo?"
Harry opened his mouth to reply only to realize that he had no
answer, or at least no good one. Fleur was glad to have agreed to
this conversation. It was the most fun she'd had all year. And they
hadn't even gotten to the point!
"I think I'm going to perform a tactical retreat and say that we should
move on to the reason I asked you here." Harry said with a frown.
"What did you want to talk about zen?" Fleur asked, terribly amused.
"Is it possible to perform The Joining without subverting your
partner?"
And just like that, Fleur was no longer amused. Sensitive indeed! A
great deal of blood had been shed over this topic and veela were
forever cautious to never mention it in front of non-veela. If she ever
found out whose lips had been so careless…
"Where did you 'ear about zat?" She demanded.
"From an… ally." Was his vague, even reluctant answer. Clearly
someone he had mixed feelings about.
Fleur thought quickly. Harry already knew too much, far too much. If
there was a veela out there blabbing secrets then she had to find out
who it was, but she doubted that Harry would part with that
information easily.
"Why do you want to know?" She asked, mostly to stall for time.
"Because I've been performing it frequently on my girlfriend and on
Luna and I want to know if it can be done without influencing them."
Harry explained.
"I told him not to worry about it, but he doesn't listen to me." Luna
added.
Meanwhile, Fleur was completely flabbergasted. " Impossible! Only
veela can perform Ze Joining."
"Ah, I guess that means that you don't know anything either." Harry
said, his disappointment clear.
" Non, eet eez you who knows nozzing." Fleur insisted. "Ze Joining
can only be done by veela. Zat you speak of performing eet on Luna
when eet eez clear zat you 'ave not slept with 'er proves eet."
"Joining your magic with your partner's in the moment of climax
when their guard is down and their souls are open? An application of
Soul Magic hidden within Sex Magic." Harry recited, causing the
blood to leave Fleur's face at the accurate description. "Luna is a
special case I'll admit. She likes to come sleep in my bed and her
soul is open and unguarded to me even without sex involved. She
insists that I perform The Joining every time."
"It feels really nice." Luna added, smiling in fond remembrance.
"But…'ow?" Now Fleur was just confused. She had never heard of
anyone but a veela performing The Joining and the idea of being
able to do it with someone without sex was equally baffling. The
release of a powerful orgasm was an important catalyst in achieving
a sufficiently relaxed state of mind for it to work. The instinctive walls
that people had around their souls could not be dropped simply by
wishing it. The level of trust required for The Joining to be possible
without sex was absurd and best left in the realms of bad fiction.
"Is it really so hard to believe that veela don't hold a monopoly on
Sex Magic?" Harry asked, sounding very amused.
Yes, it was hard to believe… it had simply always been that way. The
sky was blue, snow was cold, the Sun was warm, water was wet and
only veela could perform The Joining.
"Here, let me show you." Harry went on and took her hand.
Fleur bit her lip and rubbed her thighs together as she felt his
powerful, warm magic slither over and into her before running into a
block. Yes, that was definitely The Joining, but it was like nothing
she'd ever felt. It was far too controlled for one. Veela performed it by
instinct and only in the heat of passion. This was something new.
"I'm asking about this because I've been performing it on my
girlfriend and Luna for months now and I've been advised that this
would change them. Luna insists that I keep doing it and Dora has
been subconsciously missing it ever since I stopped. I need to know
if it can be done without brainwashing people."
Fleur got her arousal under control with the ease of long practice and
decided to answer truthfully. "'Arry… veela cannot control Ze Joining
at all. We perform it every time we 'ave zex."
It was the other half of the reason besides their sex drives for why
their relationships progressed so quickly. They had to be careful
about sleeping with the same person too many times. It wasn't a
problem in the old days when they had warred against wizardkind
and could maintain harems of lovesick followers, but in this modern
day care had to be taken. It was either one night stands or a
committed relationship. No middle ground was possible.
Oh, they did get the occasional instance of a veela who wanted to
abuse her gifts and form harems for herself, but they always got
slapped down quickly. Nobody wanted old hatreds to bubble up
again, especially not now that they were finally considered to be
completely equal to human wizards and witches in the eyes of the
law, a process that had taken centuries and had needed the
devastation of the second World War as a catalyst. Equal in most of
Europe at least. Britain lagged behind as always.
The veela's need for sex had led to the common misconception that
they were sluts that would sleep with anyone, which had been
countered by restricting themselves mostly to other veela. Fleur had
been in quite a bind ever since coming to Britain. Her mother had
been able to give her some relief after the first task, but she was still
aching for more. If she could get Harry, that problem would be
solved. She had a feeling that she would be sleeping with him as
often as possible and would not regret mating with him for life.
Of course, if he could perform The Joining as well, the situation was
different. He would not look at her with a lovestruck gaze simply
because of the sex. Fleur found herself strangely eager for the
challenge of winning him over without that overwhelming advantage.
"I see, so there isn't a way." Harry sighed, clearly disappointed.
"I 'ave 'eard zat ze very powerful may resist, zough zat eez more
rumor zan fact." Fleur said sympathetically. "But non, zere is no way
to perform ze Joining without changing ze ozzer eef zey are not
veela or like you."
Fleur had heard a lot of things during this conversation that she
didn't like and many things she had never imagined, but there was a
silver lining as well.
Namely, Harry could control The Joining and was refusing to perform
it on his girlfriend because he did not want to change her.
There were veela who felt the same as him, who slept only with
other veela their entire lives, not wanting the kind of love given by
The Joining. Aside from those who prefered women, it was a large
part of the reason for their low numbers despite only birthing
daughters. Veela already had lower birth rates than witches as a
given, but they could also not get pregnant by a non-magical man
nor even be happy with one. It rather limited the potential fathers of
their children.
Sebastien Delacour was very happily married to his wife Apolline. He
had no choice in the matter. Her Allure had long since turned him
into a perfectly devoted husband. Apolline loved him dearly and was
happy with him, but she could leave whereas he could not. He was
essentially addicted to his wife. The more romantically inclined would
call it a soul bond, but nobody paid much attention to those
airheaded nitwits.
If Harry had been performing The Joining on his girlfriend for months
then she must assuredly have already developed the yearning for
more. His words confirmed it. Their relationship would not last unless
he resumed performing it. They would be happy together again as
long as Harry could accept that he had been pulling on his
girlfriend's soul to ensure the success of their relationship.
She had no intention of telling him this. It would give her an
opportunity to make a move on him once it fell apart. Luna was
clearly going to remain a fixture and would no doubt insist on turning
it into a threeway, but Fleur could live with that. Quite easily in fact.
The other blonde was fun, open minded and had the makings of a
beautiful woman. All good things. She would perhaps not even mind
including this Nymphadora later on if the woman proved likeable, but
only after she had established herself already. Humans tended to be
jealous creatures and unwilling to share. According to her mother, it
was often a source of frustration for married veela to put up with their
spouse's insistence on monogamy, but that was a sacrifice they had
made to end the war between them.
Fleur strongly suspected that her mother's bi-monthly get togethers
with other married veela were thinly veiled excuses to have orgies
and work off some of the sexual frustration they accumulated with
their too easily exhausted husbands.
Yes, this meeting may not have gone the way she had planned it and
she would be leaving it with damp panties and unfulfilled desires, but
she could hold off on making a grab for this one slice of cake if she
could have all of it later.
A good ten minutes after Fleur had left, Harry was still sitting on the
couch with his head in his hands.
He'd been hoping that Fleur would have a solution that he hadn't
seen, but it turned out that she knew even less than Adrastia.
Veela apparently did it all by instinct, whereas the Black Widow had
learned to carefully twist a man's soul, one strand at a time. The
spider-esque moniker was more appropriate than people knew.
Harry could make a guess at the reasons for the veela's strange
combination of ability and ignorance. He even had a pretty solid
theory for their existence.
Lilith, a powerful ancient sorceress cut from a similar cloth as
Adrastia and desiring immortality, had somehow managed to capture
a phoenix and consume it, turning herself into a hybrid creature of
some sort. Only that instead of having burning days, she used the
lives and magics of those she slept with to fuel her life.
It would all fit. The alignment with Light, the magic in Fleur's song,
the bird transformation, the fire affinity, even their auras were
vaguely similar to that of Fawkes. The Allure was some form of
magical calling combined with the Light of their souls that Lilith must
have ritually bound to her bloodline. It was diluted by time until it had
turned into what veela had now, but that was the only thing it could
be. No doubt it was also the reason why masturbation didn't aleviate
their urges much. Harry had a similar problem, though from a
difference source.
Other wizards had bound gifts to their bloodline in a similar fashion;
Parseltongue and Metamorph abilities were just two examples.
Parseltongue was little more than the remnant magic of some long
ago snake Animagus anyway. Maybe Salazar Slytherin, maybe
someone even older. Probably more than one person. Harry himself
was planning to bind the ability to speak to corvid bird species to his
bloodline once he mastered it completely.
He also resolved to never ever mention this to anyone. Setting aside
the squeamish bureaucrats and their stupid laws, there were people
out there that would kill for this knowledge. A dark temptress that
Sirius had metaphorically put him into bed with came to mind. He
could well imagine Adrastia's reaction to learning of that particular
theory. She would stop at nothing to become another Lilith. A power
mad Pyromancer consumed by her own passions that could enthrall
anything magical with just her presence was not something the world
needed. She was bad enough with just her beauty and cunning to
use as weapons.
He had been planning to dangle this knowledge as both a carrot and
a stick over Fleur's head as a last resort in case he had to, but she
had been more forthcoming than he had expected. He was glad that
he could keep it to himself.
Not that it helped me actually resolve anything . He thought sourly.
He was still stuck in the same shitty situation that he had jumped into
in regards to both Dora and Luna. The former had clearly noticed the
difference since he'd stopped performig The Joining on her and it
was affecting her behavior. The latter would not hear of him stopping
it now that she knew what he was doing. She would not sleep until
he did it now that she knew, would refuse to hear any of his
arguments about being changed by it.
Harry was humbled by the trust she showed him, but it still made him
feel as if he was taking advantage of her. He couldn't even know if
the trust was a by-product of The Joining or something that she
would've given him even without it.
He sensed a spell coming at him and ducked by sheer instinct.
"You're brooding again, Harry." Luna began with a happy smile.
"Let's train instead."
Harry could agree with that. He needed something simple right now.
Elsewhere in the world…
The land between Austria and Greece was widely known to the
world at large as 'the Balkans'. A mysterious area that seemed to
change size depending on the nationality of the person talking about
it. If you asked a Slovenian for example, they probably would tell you
that it started at their southern border and if you asked a Croatian,
there was a good chance they would tell you that it started at their
southern border. Greece, Romania and Bulgaria were included in the
Balkans according to some people and empathically not included
according to others.
The geographical ambiguities of the mundane world did not much
affect the magical side of things however. Yes indeed, the magical
world had much less confusion on the subject of the Balkans.
Namely, the magical realms of Greece, Bulgaria, Romania, Hungary
and Germany(plus Austria because wizards never gave two shits
about the Treaty of Versailles) all had functioning governments and
everything in between did not, so they were named 'the Magical
Balkans' and nobody could say otherwise.
The Magical Balkans were also collectively labeled under the term
'not my fucking problem' by all of these magical nations, which
naturally meant that it was everyone's fucking problem.
It wasn't really that much of a problem to be honest. Wizards and
witches were in general a great deal less anal retentive about
borders than their mundane counterparts, probably because they
didn't have enough people between them worldwide to populate
even a single smallish city. So it was that the aforementioned
magical nations kept an eye on the place to make sure that none of
the sparse population of magical creatures got noticed by the
mundane human population and split the magicals born there among
themselves for training. Other than that, the Magical Balkans were
considered something of a wilderness by most of the magical world.
Kind of like the Australian Outback but with less kangaroos.
Of course it wasn't actually a wilderness of any sort and what
magicals did live in the area considered the smugly self-important
wizards and witches from 'proper' countries to be a bunch of cock
gobbling twats.
One of these locals was a Serbian wizard by the name of Goran
Gojkov, though you would be hard pressed to tell that he was
actually a wizard. His eyes were grey, his hair was shaved close to
his skull, his face sported a perpetual sprinkling of coarse stubble,
his nose was a bit on the large side and he typically went around
dressed in the almost-painfully-cliché-for-Slavs Adidas brand striped
black sweatpants and trainers.
Goran liked living in the Magical Balkans. The lack of any proper
magical government in the area meant that he could get away with
quite a lot of things that would be impossible in a place that did have
such a government. As long as he kept a low profile and didn't do
anything too disruptive, a wizard could live a very comfortable life in
the normal world without actually needing to expend a whole lot of
effort for it. Money was always easy to come by with a with a few
swishes of the wand and non-magical girls were just as good a lay
as witches and they came with the added benefit of being easy to
memory wipe when they got too annoying.
Obviously, Goran was not a very nice man. In fact, he would be
termed a dark wizard in just about any place that had a functioning
Ministry of Magic. That was why Goran did not live in those places.
The only problem was that it was damned hard to get one's hands
on anything magical unless you happened to be capable of making it
yourself. To get that kind of thing you needed goblin gold, which
meant goblins, which was a problem because Goran had done a
'borrow and run' stunt on them back when he'd been twentysomething and certain that he was invincible. The goblins had not
been impressed with his perceived invincibility and he'd been
avoiding them ever since.
Being an enterprising youth with little in the way of morals even then,
Goran had come upon the idea that he would moonlight as a
professional wizard hitman. That idea hadn't made him fabulously
rich like he'd thought at the time, but he did occasionally get a
contract.
"Never killed a celebrity before." Goran muttered to himself, looking
over the contract to kill Harry Potter that some cock gobbling twat
had taken out. He had no idea who because said cock gobbling twat
was keen on staying anonymous. The target was a bit high profile,
but the details of when the hit was to take place were favorable
enough. Plus, the fat sack of galleons that was the up front part of
the payment was bigger than most full prices, so he really couldn't
turn it down, even if it did mean taking a really cold fucking swim.
The other person with designs on Harry Potter's life at the moment
was considerably less picky about her choice of assassin than
Lucius Malfoy, not to mention less cautious.
"Thank you, gentlemen." Umbridge simpered. "You are doing the
Ministry of Magic a great service."
"Always happy to help the Ministry, Madam Umbridge." A man
replied, pocketing a bag of galleons.
His three friends nodded enthusiastically.
Incidentally, these happened to be the remaining four out of eight
Death Eaters who had attempted to murder Harry and Sirius at the
Quidditch World Cup back in August, though Umbridge didn't
actually know that.
They had been stewing hatefully over the death of their friends ever
since and were eager for another go at the Boy-That-Just-Wouldn'tDie. That they would be getting paid for it was just extra incentive.
February 14th.
Tonks couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was wrong.
The problem was that there shouldn't be anything wrong.
She'd had the morning shift today, which had sucked, but Harry had
showed up to take her on a date, which was good. They'd gone minigolfing and it had been lots of fun. Generally speaking, Harry
shouldn't be vanishing from Hogwarts for half a day, but he'd insisted
and didn't care about the rules anyway. It was Valentine's Day he'd
said and handed her a heart shaped box of chocolates. Which was
odd because she knew that Harry thought that Valentine's Day was
just another event that people hyped up out of proportion in an effort
to sell more heart shaped candy.
He had been making an effort to be less cynical and more romantic
like that ever since the Black Widow fiasco, which Tonks figured was
him trying to make up for his secrecy. It was kind of cute watching
him try.
They'd gone back to Potter Manor after the date and engaged in
some wonderfully protracted sex and put his birthday present to
good use. But… something just didn't feel right. The worst part was
that she simply couldn't point her finger at what it was.
It had been highly pleasurable as always and Harry's continued
fondness for cunnilingus had made him quite the expert on
extracting multiple orgasms from a woman. Additionally, he had also
developed some delicious pecs, biceps, triceps and various back
muscles whereas he had previously been a bit scrawny. Pushups
he'd explained, so that the top matched the bottom. She hadn't
minded the scrawnyness - he was fourteen after all - but this new
muscliness was another big plus for him.
But something was still wrong. He just seemed more distant
somehow despite all the effort he was putting in. He brooded a bit
more and visited a bit less, but not hugely so. It wasn't really a
problem, but something had definitely changed, something other
than that. There seemed to be a hesitation and uncertainty to him
that wasn't there before.
Maybe the problem was with her? She couldn't help noticing that she
didn't feel that powerful surge of lust that had become so familiar
when he touched her. She still wanted him, but something was just
different . Less intense somehow.
"Whatcha thinking?" She asked, running her fingers over the arm he
had wrapped around her. The scarred one.
He hesitated and she knew that he was going to lie to her. She saw
a few strands of her hair turning the hated mousy brown that she
would've had if she wasn't a Metamorphmagus. There were other
changes too; she lost a bit of height, her figure became slightly less
of an hourglass shape and her breasts became a bit smaller, saggier
and generally less attractive. Her powers always got sulky when she
was sad, which she figured made sense. She was feeling kinda
sulky too.
"Nothing much." He murmured, hugging her closer and nuzzling her
hair.
It felt nice, but he was still lying to her. Which meant that whatever
he was thinking about had something to do with the stuff he wanted
to keep secret from her. Stuff that Sirius knew but she didn't. Stuff
that was being kept from her because it was probably illegal.
Like how he was getting away from Hogwarts. And why he looked a
good five or six years older than he really was. And what the Zabini
woman had been doing to Sirius to mess him up. Stuff that Harry
might know a thing or two about if he was able to detect it. Stuff that
Harry might be capable of himself. She'd restrained herself from
asking for a long while, but enough was enough.
"Harry, the thing that Zabini did to Sirius… can you do it too?" She
asked and felt him go still. Yes, he definitely knew how to do it.
Shite.
Why did she have to be so smart? He wasn't going to be able to
bullshit his way out of this one.
He could feel her soul so clearly, a cheery spark that was currently
clouded with sadness and suspicion. He could perform The Joining,
soothe away all the rough edges and assure her that everything was
alright. It might be too late for that now, but he didn't think so. She
wasn't on guard yet. Ever since his talk with Adrastia, he'd been
seeing in ever increasing clarity what he had previously overlooked.
How… vulnerable an open soul was. How he could tease out certain
parts of it and quiet others. He might not be able to do it in one
sitting, but repeated several times… he could make sure that she
wouldn't ask anymore.
It was so tempting to tweak things so that they would be more to his
liking, it was little wonder that Adrastia had taken such glee in
destroying the husband she hated, reveling in the power she had
suddenly gained. So easy to see why she had wanted to feel it
again.
But he couldn't do that. Which meant that he was going to have to
tell her. Shit, fuck and a string of other four letter words.
He had told Luna and it had been alright, so it might be alright now
too. Then again, Luna was anything but normal… which was why he
had felt comfortable telling her in the first place.
Harry gave a defeated sigh. "Alright, I'll tell you." Maybe it would
work out. He didn't believe it, but maybe. He had procrastinated for
far too long anyway, it was time to face the music.
Over the course of the conversation, Tonks had started becoming
uncomfortable and squirmed out of the cuddle so that she could see
him.
Harry didn't try to stop her, he'd expected it. Not everyone could be
as accepting as Luna. Most people couldn't in fact.
"And this 'Joining'… you've been doing it to me?" She asked tightly,
not really sure what to feel.
"Not since I've learned how it was affecting you. I only wanted to
enhance pleasure, not change you." Harry said. Again.
Tonks took a deep breath and let it out. Then she took another.
What the hell was she supposed to say to this? To know that the
feeling of closeness that she'd been missing all this time was
because he'd stopped poking around her soul…
The only reason she wasn't going for her wand and cursing the life
out of him was because he'd clearly had no clue of the full extent of
what he was doing.
But it frightened her, how much power he'd had over her. How was
anyone supposed to defend themselves from this kind of attack? The
Imperious was sometimes called the subtlest of the Unforgivables,
but compared to this it might as well be a blasting curse.
She had to know what it felt like, so that she could recognize it in the
future.
"Could you… do it on me right now? Just so that I can get a feel for
what it's like?" She asked nervously.
Harry barely resisted the urge to laugh bitterly. "I could, but you're so
tense that it wouldn't get through. You wouldn't feel anything."
That actually made Tonks feel better and she insisted that he do it.
As he'd said, she felt nothing. Then she asked him to do it again
while she cast diagnostic charms with her wand, all of which came
up negative. That did not make her feel better.
"Is there any way at all to detect this?" she demanded tersely. "How
did you do it?"
"You can't detect it because it isn't a spell. It takes a certain… selfawareness to be capable of manipulating magic like this." Harry
explained, skirting along the edge of being truthful. "Most people
can't do it, but I think all the really powerful ones like Dumbledore
and Voldemort can."
"But neither you or Zabini are that powerful." Tonks said neutrally.
"No." Harry admitted. He was still quite a ways off from being at that
level and Adrastia was even less so. "It is possible to gain the ability
in other ways, but it involves a very personal experience that
confronts a person with who they truly are." Or in his case, a botched
ritual that left him with two conflicting forces in his soul and gave it
enough magical contrast to be made visible. Cheating in other
words. Of course, both Voldemort and Dumbledore had likely been
confronted with their true natures at some point in their lives, so it
was likely that it was a requirement for becoming a top tier wizard.
Adrastia's presence was quite powerful even if she was not a direct
combatant for example.
"And you've had such an experience." Tonks stated slowly.
"I'd rather not talk about it." Harry said quickly. There was no way he
could bullshit his way through that.
"Right." Tonks said a bit shakily. "Right, is there any other disturbing
bit of information that you have to tell me?"
Harry could have told her about his theory that extremely powerful
wizards exuded an aura of influence around themselves that subtly
turned weaker people that were already predisposed towards looking
up to them into loyal and unquestioning followers, see Voldemort's
more rabid minions and the Dumbledorian buttlicker brigade headed
by Minerva McGonnagal(or possibly Hagrid depending on one's
preferences)for proof. However, he suspected that this information
would not make the pile of shit he was currently standing in any
smaller or less stinky so he kept his mouth firmly shut.
"No, that's it."
Tonks was silent for a good few minutes, chewing over this new and
disturbing information. It put a rather sinister slant on their entire
relationship even if Harry had stopped doing The Joining as soon as
he learned about the side-effects.
She realized that it was going to be impossible to trust him. How was
she ever supposed to relax around him with the knowledge that he
could rearrange her feelings as he pleased if she did so? It was too
subtle to be detected and too insidious to be fought against. With the
only defense being distrust, her guard would always be up now.
Tonks could practically see the burning wreck of their relationship
looming in the near future, but she really didn't want it to end that
way. Which was especially horrible because she didn't even know
how much of her feelings for him were manufactured. Was that the
reason that she had overlooked his age so easily? She did recall
being a little bothered by it at first, but then it kind of faded into
unimportance. Was that just natural progression or the result of his
meddling?
"I think we should spend some time apart, do some thinking and get
some perspective."
Harry simply nodded, unsurprised. The chance that this would end
well had always been remote and he fully expected a break-up to be
coming soon. He'd been procrastinating for months in the hope that
some magical Deus Ex Machina would show up with a crane and lift
him from the hole he'd dug, but had realistically been aware that it
was about as likely as Snape washing his hair. On the bright side, he
was extremely well prepared for the heartbreak. Silver lining and all
that.
The Hogwarts staff had gotten used to the fact that Harry Potter only
showed up to whichever classes he felt like showing up to, most of
which were sixth or seventh year.
That was why they were incredibly surprised when he started
attending all the third year classes. He didn't actually do anything
during these classes. He merely sat next to Luna Lovegood and
stared at the professors with a look that was just shy of being hostile.
The only exception was Potions, which he avoided as per his
'agreement' with Snape. He just pulled Luna out of the class instead.
It didn't take the staff long to deduce that he must have correctly
figured out the clue for the second task and was pre-emptively
making sure that his friend would not be taken.
Normally, this would not pose a problem. They would simply take her
from her room. Unfortunately, she slept in Harry's room and in
Harry's bed, so that wasn't going to work.
They might have considered taking a different friend… but he didn't
have any. The only one that he was even seen talking to aside from
Luna was Fleur Delacour, who was a fellow champion and obviously
unsuitable as a hostage.
"It's no use, Albus." Minerva said huffily to the venerable Hogwats
headmaster. "He watches the girl like a hawk. There are even
rumors going around that he goes to the bathroom with her! I tried
asking him to leave the classroom so that I could talk to her alone
and he told me that I would speak to Ms. Lovegood with him present
or not at all! The nerve of the boy! And the look he gave me… I dare
say even Severus would be hard pressed to look so menacing. For a
moment I thought he would draw his wand on me."
Dumbledore's lips twitched slightly at his deputy's consternation.
Seeing her so worked up was amusing in spite of everything.
He supposed they could simply tell Harry that his friend would not be
harmed, but that would rather defeat the point of the task. Another
option was to attack the two of them while they slept and take Ms.
Lovegood by force, but that probably wasn't a good idea.
Dumbledore knew a thing or two about powerful wizards and they
generally did not respond well to force. The last thing Harry needed
was more reasons to follow in Tom's footsteps.
He'd noted the lad's frequent disappearances from Hogwarts and
deduced that he was going to visit young Nymphadora. Harry was
clearly not the emotionally dead wizard that a young Tom Riddle had
been, but he did bear quite a bit of resemblance to a much younger
Albus Dumbledore, so the Headmaster treated him as such.
The problem was that Dumbledore could recall quite well how wild
he had been at that age and had some trouble finding a way to curb
the boy's behavior. At least there was no Gellert Grindelwald
analogue around this time to whisper twisted plans into Harry's ears.
Things were simply too calm . There was no opportunity to do
anything meaningful with Harry as disconnected from the day to day
life of the school as he was. At this rate, he would need to simply
wait for Harry to become an adult and deal with him accordingly.
That was strange, as Dumbledore had been quite sure that
Voldemort would have been making waves by now. He had showed
up in Harry's first year but been conspicuously quiet ever since. The
incident with the diary didn't really count since it hadn't been
Voldemort's doing even though it was his Horcrux that was involved.
But that was not the issue right now. The current issue was finding a
hostage for the Hogwarts champion to save from the lake.
"If Harry guards Ms. Lovegood too closely, then we need simply look
farther afield for an appropriate hostage." Dumbledore said musingly.
He already had a perfect candidate in mind.
February 23rd.
Harry checked over the scarves and diving masks he had enchanted
one last time, making sure that everything was in order.
He had been annoyed when Penny had brought him diving masks
instead of swimming goggles like he'd requested. He had specifically
asked for swimming goggles because he didn't like the nose
covering on the diving masks. Then she had told him that trying to
dive past a certain depth without the rubber nose covering would see
his eyes being ripped out of their sockets due to the uneven
pressure between his eyes and lungs.
It was a good thing that unlike him, Penny read the warning labels
and he vowed to do something nice for her. He rather liked his
eyeballs where they were.
"Come to bed already, Harry. You have a big day tomorrow." Luna
pouted from the bed.
"Coming, coming." Harry said, putting the items down.
He'd noted a few attempts to get Luna away from him, probably to
take her as a hostage, but nobody had tried to do anything overt
since he was keeping such a close eye on her.
That was good, because Harry was in a foul enough mood these
days without having his dearest friend stuffed on the bottom of a
freezing cold lake.
He had no word from Dora since their conversation a week and a
half ago. The silence was telling and depressing. To make matters
worse, his runes were acting up again at the lack of sex and it was
making him even more ill-tempered. He'd barely restrained himself
from sending Malfoy to the hospital wing the other day for a snide
comment that normally wouldn't have even merited any attention.
Luna had remained a bright spot during all this. The absolute(and
probably undeserved if Harry was being honest with himself) trust
she had in him was a soothing contrast to the disaster that his
romantic entanglement had turned into.
He crawled into bed with her and got into the now familiar spooning
position. Luna giggled and squirmed as soon as he did so.
"Harry, you really need to shave." She informed him, still giggling.
Yes, he probably should. He had just over a week's worth of facial
hair sitting on his jaw, well on its way to becoming a thick black
beard. He hadn't been in much of a mood to shave recently despite
the looks it was getting him and how easy magic made it. He'd shave
it off in the morning.
For now, he rubbed his bristly chin into the back of Luna's neck and
held her tightly while she squealed.
Status de energia semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Pedra de
Poder