Unofficial Portkey Archive

A/N: I'm not dead! If you've read my previous works, you know that at some point, there is a large break in my writing. It's a lot of things. Busy life, writer's block, lack of motivation, no interest in the story. A combination of these things lead to a hiatus that I did not intend.

But I'm back and I've actually written the next four chapters. I wanted to release one back in November, but something or the other prevented me from doing so. As an apology, I will release all four chapters this week, two days apart. Enjoy the chapter below.

To catch up, you can break the reading into segments: Chapters 27 to 31 will catch you up on Harry's new plans for Fourth Year. Chapters 32 to 37 will take you through the beginning of the Tournament. Chapters 38 to current continues the current plotline.

Enjoy and let me know what you think. Feel free to hate me for being so late to update or leave a nice note if you like the chapter.

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"Harry, there's something you should know."

The snip-snip of the scissors stopped as Tracey stepped back. He looked at her expectantly but had half a mind on the state of his hair. When she said that she was just going to give him a short trim, he expected just that. Strangely enough, Tracey refused his requests for a mirror. What was happening up there?

When she didn't continue, he asked, "What do I need to know?"

She was struggling to find the words.

"I haven't gone bald, have I?" Harry reached up with his hand and still felt hair.

Tracey couldn't help but smile. With a flick of her wrist, she finished the last touches. The scissors stopped clipping and she finally brought a mirror to his face.

"That's more like it, dear." The mirror approved.

What was once an untamable animal on his head was now cropped close on the sides and left long at the top. He twisted his head to and fro and found no faults. Tracey had done well. Absentmindedly lowering the mirror with a bit of wandless magic, Harry stood and ran a hand through his hair.

"Almost scared me. Though Tireur does do the bald thing well," Harry said.

Harry liked to think he knew Tracey well. She had her habits. When she touched her hair, she was nervous or trying to think of something to say. She could play coy but was quick to passion about the things close to her. Other times, she could turn up the charm and put on a mask of flirtatiousness.

What did she want to say?

"You're okay, right?" she asked. "That bit in Battle when you just lost it. That was just...something else, right?"

Harry looked away. It was a mistake. He was usually better at controlling his emotions, but Tracey had taken him by surprise. The screams were still echoing in his ears. Harry knew, in the core of his heart, what these visions were. Would Tracey understand?

"It won't happen again," Harry said.

She looked at him with those bright, azure eyes. "Are you sure? We need to start winning again, Harry. It's important."

"Of course we will."

She didn't look convinced.

Tracey departed for her preparations. No doubt they would take hours. There was a nervous tension in the air as Hogwarts prepared for the Yule Ball. Gatherings such as the Ball were not commonplace, especially at a place like Hogwarts. Harry used the money that Slughorn procured for him to buy plain, black robes. They were of better material than his normal robes but had no trim. He also bought a circular, silver clasp and a striped, green tie.

An unspectacular outfit, to be truthful, but one that suited him.

Harry left the Slytherin Common Room early. He would see the rest of them when he entered the Yule Ball. The Champions had to report in early and Harry was inbound to meet Fleur. He waited for her at the double doored entrance to the Main Hall. On second thought, he walked up three stairs and awaited her there. It was more dramatic and at least alleviated some of the height problems. She was a good three or four inches taller.

The double doors opened and Harry stood taller. Instead of Fleur, it was Viktor Krum. His date was a beautiful redhead that was certainly not a student. A forest-green gown sparkle in the candlelight. She accented it with red jewelry, complimenting Durmstrang's colors. Krum was garbed in black robes similar to Harry's, though Krum's was in size Giant. The Bulgarian grunted at Harry and stood stiffly at the bottom of the stairs. His date looked inquisitively at Harry. She had an Eastern European look about her. Harry smiled at her and she looked away.

Not the friendliest couple.

They trickled into the Main Hall in singles and in pairs. The girls wore a variety of dresses made by designers that Harry did not know. They were long and short, glittering and plain, black and white and red and different colors all over. Harry had no taste for fashion, but there were a few that definitely did not suit the person. Most of the men wore plain robes only accented with the colors of their respective school or House. Sometimes, a cheeky lad would come in wearing something with a certain trim or color that broke the monochromatic monotony.

When Fleur entered, time paused.

Instead of light blue, she was dressed in a snowy white gown. The dress extended to the floor and beyond her feet, following behind her. The bottom of the dress came short in the front. It clung to her every curve, cinching tight at the waist. Straps criss crossed all the way up her back like a spider web. They would rearrange themselves from time to time depending on how her body shifted, sticking close to her spine. The front of her dress was less enchanted as the halter strap gave her chest ample shape.

Try not to look like a fool. That voice in Harry's head sounded oddly like Blaise.

All eyes were on the quarter-Veela as she approached Harry. He did his best to casually move down one step and made a show of keeping one hand behind his back. At the base of the stairs, Harry flourished his right hand from behind his back. Fleur quizzically looked at his empty hand and Harry did the same. Little did she know he had torn off a piece of cloth that was held between his fingers, unseen to almost all.

Concentrating, he transfigured the cloth into a lily flower, the petals as white as her dress. He tried not to smirk at the successful change. He was getting better. The more he practiced, the easier it came to him. He was starting to understand the intricacies of what he had to concentrate on depending on the branch of magic. Different emotions and thought processes were needed for the varying types of magic.

Fleur accepted the lily and and smiled at him. "It looks like you're saving your wand for later then."

They waited in the same room where they held them after the Goblet of Fire spit out their names. Outside, the other students entered the Great Hall. Harry could hear the oohs and ahhs as they enjoyed the enchanted scenery. Fleur was making small talk with one of the other Beauxbatons champions. Harry rubbed his hands together, waiting for the others to join them.

The door opened and Harry had to fight to hide his surprise as another pair joined the fray.

Hermione and Cedric entered the room arm in arm. He was clad in black robes with a dark yellow trim. Stitched onto the chest was the Hufflepuff patch. A golden badger clasped his robes at his neck. He was smiling. Cedric was always smiling.

But Hermione was also smiling. At least, she was trying to smile. There was a hesitancy when she entered the room. Her eyes passed over the other champions but never lingered long enough to keep eye contact. The mask was on. Her guard was always on.

"They look a lovely pair, don't they?"

Harry tried not to jump at the sound of Tireur's voice. The Beauxbatons boy was standing right next to him, whispering into his ear. Harry kept his eyes on Hermione as they exchanged pleasantries with Roger Davies and Cho Chang.

"Beauty and the beast. Diggory is so dashing, isn't he?"

Hermione smiled wanly as Fred and George bowed excessively to kiss both of her hands simultaneously.

"I must admit I am surprised that she's not in your arms. From everything I've read, you two should be together. Am I wrong?"

Tireur spoke in that slimy undertone. It was a hushed whisper, the words rolling and easing into Harry's ear. Fleur was still chatting with another Beauxbatons student and no one seemed to notice Karim. Hermione and Cedric waltzed around the room, briefly stopping by every champion. Harry tracked them as they walked, his eyes never leaving them.

"Merlin, you're a bore. Do you understand what people would do to have Fleur Delacour hang onto their arm? I've seen boys do the most disgusting things just to get her attention and you can't tear your eyes off a, and I'm being very generous here, mediocre girl."

Harry's wand was strapped to his body, flat against the left rib cage. Wand holsters were forbidden during the Yule Ball, but they didn't say anything about other methods of wand protection. Tireur was still speaking into his ear, almost perched on his shoulder. The Frenchman was uncomfortably close, hovering over him in a domineering fashion.

Fleur, Cedric, and Hermione converged at the same time. Karim stepped out from behind Harry and greeted them all with a congenial smile. Harry noted that while Fleur still had an effervescent smile on her face, there was a coolness in her eyes as Karim approached. Cedric was as genial as ever, extending his hand heartily towards Tireur.

"I don't think we've ever properly met. I'm Cedric Diggory," he said.

"A fact that was inescapable as soon as you entered the room." Karim addressed them with both hands behind his back, overtly declining Cedric's handshake. The Hufflepuff let his hand fall unsteadily to his side.

"Yes - well - we've heard great things about Beauxbatons," Cedric continued, shooting Harry an inquisitive look.

"Oh, I'm quite sure you have. Madame Maxime has no doubt extolled upon our numerous virtues. What words did she mention? Grace? Elegance? Prestige? Anything to keep the fabulously pristine reputation intact. Yes, your name is Cedric Diggory. Yes, you've heard great things about Beauxbatons. No, no one believes this preposterously optimistic expression on your face. But perhaps you're the one that really believes it. Perhaps you truly believe in the spirit of cooperation that everyone in the Ministry likes to pedal to the press. But you can't possibly. You're not that stupid. No, no, no. Miss Hermione Granger would not date someone that stupid."

His words flowed into one another, a steady and never ending stream. He spoke so quickly that Harry could count the number of breaths he took on one hand. Karim's words were cutting and disorienting. Cedric and Hermione were completely unprepared but the narrow look on Fleur's eyes meant that she had experienced this type of behavior before. Harry remained still, his hands by his side as he bore holes into the back of Karim's head.

Legilimens, Harry thought.

Eye contact wasn't a necessity, but it improved the chances of a successful Legilimency spell. Harry had been able to probe Hermione's mind without making eye contact before. All he needed was a temporary break into Karim's mind. Hermione had strictly warned him on using Legilimency on anyone else besides herself. Yet, if anyone deserved to have their mind broken, it was Karim Tireur.

Which made it all the more surprising when Harry encountered nothing but a blank canvas in Karim's mind. The connection snapped and Tireur turned to face Harry. He winked and bowed.

"I must take my leave. I'm afraid I have overstayed my welcome. My apologies, Mr. Diggory. My mind tends to wander into the great unknown. It leaves my mouth rather untethered." Karim took another bow and walked away without another word.

A pregnant pause overtook the foursome in the wake of Karim's verbal antagonization. Fleur cleared her throat prettily, or at least as prettily as one could clear their throat.

"I will have to apologize profusely in the name of Beauxbatons, the rest of the champions, and wizards in general. Tireur has a tendency of trying to get under your skin. Do not take his words to heart. He says these things but they have no meaning." Fleur touched Cedric's shoulder and Harry swore he saw a spark fly from her fingers.

"It's quite alright." Cedric's smile was a little wider when he looked at Fleur. The demure girl lifted her hand from his shoulder and the spark was gone. Hermione was still watching Tireur's back as he talked to another Beauxbatons girl. Harry tried to catch her eye, but if he was right, she was refusing to make eye contact with him.

It was important she knew they were not alone in the study of Occlumency.

"I'm afraid I have to steal Hermione away for a moment. Something to discuss." Harry did not take no for a response and guided the Gryffindor girl away by grabbing the crook of her elbow. She resisted at first but relented once she saw the expression on his face.

"What was that?" she asked, trying to keep her face from contorting into displeasure.

Harry licked his lips. She would not like this. "Tireur knows Occlumency."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. She looked around and quietly cast the Vocce Molli spell. They could not be away long. Hermione leaned in closer and hissed, "Preposterous."

"I tried it on him, Hermione. Nothing but a blank space."

"Do you understand how few people can even attempt Occlumency? You can't mean to tell me that someone else from another school just happens to know it. And why were you using Legilimency anyway?"

Harry had the grace to look embarrassed. "I was curious."

"You were annoyed," she corrected. "Tireur is nothing but words. Why do you think he does it? If it's that easy to get a rise out of you, what's stopping Tireur from doing the same in the Second Task?"

"I have it under control," Harry replied. The rest of the Champions were shuffling out as McGonagall summoned them to the staging area. Fleur was chatting with another Beauxbatons girl while Cedric lingered near the doorway.

"Do you? Tireur now knows that you know Legilimency. The more he knows…"

The more he can use it against me.

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The Yule Ball was all splendor and frivolity. Harry grew more uncomfortable as the night progressed. Fleur was a wonderful date, perfectly polite and genial at the necessary times. Harry should have felt proud to have her on his arm, but he was consciously aware of Tireur the whole night. He kept his Occlumency shields up, wary of any attacks, but they never came.

The Headmasters spoke in turn but Harry tuned them out. He glanced down the table at Tireur, but the Beauxbatons boy was consumed in a conversation with Viktor Krum and his girlfriend. The Bulgarian didn't seem to take a liking to Tireur judging by the especially sour expression on his hard face.

"I'm starting to think you asked the wrong student from Beauxbatons to attend the Yule Ball with you," Fleur said.

Harry flushed. He didn't blush easily, but Fleur had a habit of making him do so. It had to be her Veela powers. Had to be.

"I'm sorry. I've been terribly unattentive tonight."

"It is not your attention I want. I can get plenty of that." Fleur smiled but there was no warmth in her words. "Do not let him get to you. He will make your life miserable and...joyless. Karim has an obsession with winning. There is nothing else to him."

"You make him sound awful."

Fleur shrugged, pushing her hair back to show off her slender neck. "Appeler un chat un chat. He has been that way ever since I've known him."

Harry glanced down the table as Madame Maxime stood to make a speech. Snape deftly moved out of the way to avoid her elbow.

"Do you know him well?" Harry asked.

"Karim? No. He does not like me."

"Why wouldn't he?"

Fleur smiled coyly but didn't answer. Before Harry could continue his line of questioning, the Champions were provoked to stand up and dance. Harry sucked in a breath. Fleur was a full head taller than him and he was shockingly below average in optimal conditions when it came to dancing. If she was nervous, she didn't show it. He grasped her hand and descended to the dance floor from the raised dais they were seated on.

Harry looked up at the beautiful Veela as the melody sprung from a harp. Fleur tightened her fingers and pulled his hand subtly. He pushed and they started a slow paced box step. To an outsider, it would appear that Harry was leading her gently across the dance floor, but Harry felt her pushing and pulling with her hands with tiny gestures. She was leading and following.

He twirled Fleur, or rather, she twirled herself. Her hair danced in the dim light provided by the faeries above. It was hard to take his eyes off her form. Harry tried to bring up his Occlumency shields but they were drowned by another desire. He gulped, feeling the full effects of her magic.

"You fight it a lot," she commented.

"Can you turn it off or is it something that just comes naturally?" Harry whispered into her ear as he dipped her low. Her breasts rose to meet his eyes as her back arched over his arm.

"I've learned to harness it over the years, but I am only quarter-Veela. I will never be able to do as the stories say."

Harry shuddered as he thought of what a full Veela could do.

The tune of the song changed and Fleur twirled out of his arms. To his surprise, she grasped Roger Davies' hand and immediately fell into an elegant dip. Cho Chang was suddenly in his hands. Her eyes were a chestnut brown instead of Fleur's mesmerizing blue. She was pretty. But she wasn't Fleur.

"Sorry," Harry apologized as he fell into a simple half step.

"I gather you're not a regular ballroom dancer?" Cho asked.

"I'm not a regular dancer of any means to be frank."

Cho giggled. "This is a traditional Witches swap. See how all of the wizards dance towards the outer edge of the circle? After each refrain, the witches turn and dance with the partner to the left. This continues until everyone has swapped partners at least once."

"Were we supposed to know this?" Harry looked around and was grateful to find that he was not the only one that looked uncomfortable. He twirled Cho around, narrowly avoiding mashing her feet.

"You probably should have expected it, but you grew up with Muggles. Don't worry about it too much. The actual dance is very simple and never lasts too long with each partner," Cho reassured him.

"Well, thank you for the information, Cho. I am about fifty percent less confused now."

"You're not really one for being confused, so I'll bask in this temporary moment of your mortality."

"It happens. Dragons or girls usually do that to me."

"Which is worse?" Cho asked with a twinkle in her eye.

The strings hit a different chord, signalling a change. Harry dipped Cho and answered her question.

"I haven't had a girl try to kill me, yet. I suppose that gives you the advantage."

On and on the partners went. Some were open to chatting. Others gave a greeting and said nothing afterwards. Viktor Krum's date spoke no English. Harry had no problem with that. Words would have only served to heighten the awkwardness. He was beginning to tire, his right knee tingling every so slightly. Ignoring it as much as he could, Harry reached his hand out reflexively to accept his next partner. Hermione's warm palm slipped into his, her hand resting on his shoulder.

Harry was acutely aware of the eyes following them. Whispers grew louder. They spoke behind cupped hands, the hush of their voices spreading rumor and gossip as fast as lightning. Harry fell into a practised step, twirling Hermione around as the tune picked up. She said nothing for a few moments, but there was nothing to really say. The middle of the dance floor was not the time for discretion.

Hermione came close during a slow beat as they swayed to the strings of a violin. Most girls kept a healthy distance apart during this part of the dance. Some did it awkwardly and stiffly, like Viktor Krum's date. Others were more relaxed, like Cho and a few of the Beauxbatons girls. Marietta made no mistake of how she felt about him. Another wizard could have fit in the space between them when Harry danced with the belligerent Ravenclaw.

Harry placed his hands on her hips while she placed hers on his shoulders. When she looked up, Harry was acutely aware of how close she was. Her bushy hair was pulled over one shoulder, not completely tamed but manageable. Her dress was a light blue, but in Harry's opinion, it did not suit her well. Still, the intensity behind those chocolate brown eyes drowned the rest of it out. When she spoke, it was the last thing he expected her to say.

"Relax," Hermione whispered as they swayed. "No one is going to attack you tonight."

"I vehemently disagree. The Yule Ball seems like a good of a time to stage an ambush. Guards down. Large crowd. Low lights. Besides, you're not one for relaxing."

She met his eyes and for once, her own softened. What was in those brown eyes? Pity? Sympathy? The song was coming to an end and Harry swung her low in one final dip. When she came back up, Hermione held him for a moment longer than usual.

"We'll talk later."

Then, she turned and walked to Cedric. Fleur approached at the same time and Harry regained his composure. She beamed at him and the rest of the world turned a little darker as Fleur became brighter. That was how she was; a light in the darkest of places. Every time he was with Hermione, Harry was reminded of all the things they had already accomplished as well as all the things that they were still supposed to do. When Fleur was in his arms, the whole world melted away.

Relax.

But Harry was brought back to the girl's lavatory on the Third Floor. He was brought back to an image that made him squirm at night when it wriggled its way into his thoughts. There was a guilt that would never fully recede. There was shame in that he could not protect the few friends he had. Relax? There was never a time to relax.

"Dance with me," Fleur implored as a more upbeat song started.

Of course, there are always exceptions.

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The night was ending, the sounds swirling down the drain of the party. There was plenty of laughter, more than Hogwarts was used to. Usually somber and serious, Hogwarts was alive with youthful exuberance. Yet, there were still pockets of silence and small alcoves where the gaiety of the night died away.

Tracey was alone, or thought she was alone, in a north-facing observation tower. The peaks and mountains beyond the Forbidden Forest jutted out into the sky like angry claws reaching from the ground. The night should have been a joy for her. Very rare was there an opportunity to pull out the fine robes and dresses that her mother showered upon her. Draco accompanied her throughout the night and he was striking in his expensive black robes. She wore green, though far too many others wore green for her liking. Still, it should have been a night to remember…

It crushed her that she felt this way. She was supposed to be stronger than this. She was supposed to ignore that gnawing desperation every time Harry would look her way. She wasn't supposed to feel this way.

Tracey sucked in a sob, upset that she was upset.

"Did you know there was a time when students were allowed into the Forbidden Forest? Of course, everyone was a little more self-sufficient then. Or maybe the teachers did not care as much. Either way, it wasn't called the Forbidden Forest. It was just the Northern Forest."

Draco walked up until he was right beside her, staring out into the dark canopy of the Northern Forest. The moon was bright tonight, the snow on the ground sparkling in response. Tracey dabbed at her tears with the sleeve of her robes, trying to keep the mascara from smudging her face. Draco produced a handkerchief from one of the pockets of his robes and held it out to her. She accepted it gratefully.

"Did you follow me up here?" she asked.

"While it's not the first time a girl has ran away from me, it is the first time that I don't think I was the cause of it," Draco answered.

Tracey laughed but it came out more like a choked cry. Am I so transparent? If even Draco notices why I'm crying, can't everyone?

"Though I did seem to make it like I was the cause regardless," he continued.

She sniffed away the last of her tears. "Well thank you for that. It's much more than I deserve."

He shrugged. It was an ineffectual shrug. Draco barely lifted his shoulders and cocked his head to one side when he shrugged like he was giving it as little effort as he could. But in the time that Tracey had come to know him through their shared Medical classes, she could spot the little signs. There was a constant anger, always brimming underneath his calm appearance. His nose would turn in the air when he had the answer that everyone craved and he enjoyed keeping it out of everyone's reach. Yet, there was also a drop in his shoulders and the blankness on his face when he gave something his utmost concentration.

There was a person somewhere in there.

"Potter must be someone completely different when he's not trying to be Commander," Draco said. It was nice of him to try and approach this in a roundabout away. It showed a tact that he kept reserved for people he didn't despise.

"He tries not to keep it separated these days. All of you will never really see it, but there is someone besides Commander Potter. It's just someone that isn't very strong."

"And you can't let Slytherin see that."

"No," Tracey said. "He can't let himself see that. For better or for worse, he is the hero that everyone wants him to be. If he is ever anything less…"

Tracey couldn't find the words to finish her sentence. She had asked this question to herself on plenty of sleepless nights. What would Harry be if he wasn't here at Hogwarts? The answer was always the same. Harry would just be the nephew that his Aunt and Uncle did not want. He would be the troublesome Muggle that had no friends. There would be no Harry the Hero or Harry, the Bringer of Lightning. That was what drove him. He could claim that it was about winning or uniting Slytherin or fighting off his attackers, but Tracey knew him better than that.

More than anything, he was afraid of being nothing.

"It's probably not my place to say, but I don't think Potter will ever be what you want him to be," he said.

"I don't think Harry will ever be what anyone wants him to be. It would be too many things."

"I know it's strange to think this, but the world doesn't revolve around Potter. Maybe Hogwarts does, but the world is a big place."

"My world revolves around him."

"But it doesn't have to."

Draco's cold, gray eyes turned to her. He was a head taller than her and would continue growing. His hair was slicked back per usual. It was strange to say, but she did not look at his face all that often. There was an intensity in his steely eyes that made it difficult to maintain eye contact. Harry had that same intensity, but it was different. His green eyes reeled her in, an inescapable gravitational pull. Draco could cut steel with the way he looked at her.

When he leaned forward to place a chaste kiss on her lips, she reacted poorly and flinched.

A horrified expression crossed Tracey's face as her mind stammered its way to an apology, but her mouth would just not cooperate. It gaped open as he stared at her and she felt trapped, unable to look away. There was a coil in her mind, trying to find the words to express what she felt, but she had become a mute in a matter of seconds.

"Interesting," Draco finally said. "That was not how I imagined my first kiss to go."

Blood flushed Tracey's face, but it felt as if she had been hit with a Petrificus Totalus. Her arms were glued to her side and her mouth was still agape. Draco waited for a few more seconds. When she didn't speak, he gave her a sad and cruel smile. Turning away from the window, Draco left without another word.

Tracey snapped out of her reverie and leapt forward, grasping his wrist. She pulled him back to her and reached up to kiss him again.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm the worst person in the world. I just didn't know you felt...anything."

"I don't know if I still do."

Slytherins could be brave too. Even Draco Malfoy. She slipped her hand into his, determined to make up for her earlier transgression. Harry would always be her friend, but perhaps it was time to let that flame go.

"Come on. Let's watch Harry stumble around the dance floor a little more."

Draco smiled a knowing smile.

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Hermione spun thrice around and laughed as Cedric finally pulled her in. She was dizzy and leaned against the Hufflepuff to balance herself. They were both laughing as they walked off after the last dance. It had been a night unlike any other for Hermione. The past year had been clouded in such a haze that she had forgotten what it was to not worry about dueling for one night. She knew that this was just momentary. When the sun rose in the morning, the everyday grind of Hogwarts Battle School would return, but for just one moment, it didn't matter.

Cedric grinned toothily at her, his tie undone and his hair a ruffled mess. Hermione would have never thought that she would fall for someone like him. Chatty, charismatic, and unafraid to place himself at the front of the line, Cedric stood out far too much for what Hermione thought she would like. Yet, there was a seriousness that grounded him. He was never too far in the clouds or too idealistic. He had a strong moral compass. Hermione knew it by the way he talked about cheating during battles or proper etiquette in a wizard's duel.

There were days when she wondered whether or not it was all a joke. More than once, she had asked him why her. But Cedric was genuine. She was not fool enough to think he would never lie, but it wasn't a lie when he told her that she interested him. Hermione linked arms with him as they gathered their belongings.

They walked with the crowd, exiting the Great Hall. There were Prefects and teachers making sure some of the older students wouldn't wander off, but their heart wasn't into it. They were mostly making sure the younger students got back to their Common Rooms. Cedric offered to walk her back to the Gryffindor tower and she accepted with little fanfare. When they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Hermione paused.

Cedric leaned down to kiss her expectantly. She leaned in and continued the kiss for a few moments. It was improper and if she was in a different state of mind, Hermione would have been horribly embarrassed. But the night had took hold of her and she let the mask drop for just a moment. Of course, it helped that Cedric's tongue was doing wonderful things inside her own mouth.

"Get it, Granger!" Fred yelled as a group of Gryffindors waited for the staircase to swing over to them.

Hermione finally detached herself from Cedric. Her arms were still linked behind his neck and she regained her composure.

"`I'm sorry," she said. "That was out of character."

"It's okay to let go sometimes." Cedric brought her close for one more hug.

George approached them with mock sternness. "Oi. They'll be no consorting with the enemy here."

"We're all Champions here, George," Cedric said.

"But you're still a Hufflepuff. House before Champions but after gender. It's a tricky equation," George quipped.

"He's just leaving, George."

Fred and George actually kept Cedric around for five more minutes, taking turns teasing him as well as asking some questions about the Second Task. He may have been a Hufflepuff, but Cedric was well liked by everyone besides the Slytherins. A slow trickle of Gryffindors entered the Fat Lady portrait and no one seemed to have a problem with Cedric knowing the location of the entrance.

At last, Cedric bid them all goodnight, pulling Hermione in for one more kiss. After threatening Fred and George with vicious methods of castration, Hermione retired for the night. She peeled off her dress, wiping down what little make up she wore, and collapsed into her soft mattress. Try as she might, Hermione couldn't sleep. It evaded her. There was still too much excitement running through her body. So she did what came natural to her when she couldn't sleep. Hermione sat up, took out a book from her bedside dresser and started reading.

It was a long while before Hermione fell asleep. She laid on her back, the book open across her chest. In the dim light of the moon, the title of the book caught the barest of lights. It sparked in gold and read: The Casting of Unforgivables.

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"Quickly now," Fleur giggled.

She pulled Harry along, her bare feet padding along the snow, leaving quite obvious trails to her carriage. Sliding her key into the lock, Fleur opened the door of her carriage and stepped inside. Soft lights hung on the ceiling, but they were neither flames nor light bulbs. It was just white orbs of light dotting the room, covering it in an effervescent glow.

She shed her outer robes and Harry had to fight the urge to gawk. Her dress was near transparent in the glowing lights of her room. While Harry was relatively clueless when it came to women, he was bright enough to catch onto the fact that she was doing this on purpose. If anyone had the insanity to doubt Fleur's beauty, they could have been easily convinced if they were in the room right now.

Fleur took out her wand and cleaned her feet then sat down on her bed in the corner wordlessly. Harry felt his feet walk until he was beside her. Occlumency be damned, he was letting his mind go now. The full effects of her Veela magic clouded his brain into a fever of lust. Harry reached out with his hand but she grabbed it in midair. Holding Harry by his wrist, Fleur nuzzled into his open palm, kissing the inside of his wrist.

She pulled him down slowly, placing open mouthed kisses all the way up his arm until he was seated next to her. Fleur continued up his body, untying the knot of his tie deftly and opening his collar. She sucked on his neck, pushing his chest gently until he laid on the bed. Her smooth legs straddled his waist as she continued doing the nicest things with her mouth. Harry finally began to wander with his hands, caressing her sides, reveling in the smoothness of her skin.

Fleur slapped his hand away when he ran it up her leg, but she smiled down at him when she did so. One by one, the buttons of his shirt went undone. His mind was barely grasping what was going on. He couldn't think straight. There was a cloudiness whenever he tried to think of anything or anyone else. When his shirt was finally open, Fleur raked her nails down his chest. He exclaimed rather loudly, causing her to giggle.

Harry could barely think as she dragged her lips across his chest. There was a throbbing inside his body, a pleasurable but foreign sensation. It was hard to tell where her magic stopped and his lust began. Every kiss lit his body in an uncontrollable inferno. He was gasping and fought the urge to rip her dress off her body. Legilimency or not, she read his mind by sitting up and grabbing her wand. One spell unlaced the intricate bindings across her back until the dress fell off. She banished the garment away and sat on top of him naked.

Oh.

"Fleur," Harry finally managed to say. "I've never...I never have…"

Fleur put a finger against his lips.

"Do not worry. Just follow."

She leaned down, her beautiful breasts pressing against his chest and kissed him on the mouth. The cloudiness returned in his mind as he kissed her back. Their tongues dueled as their bodies grinded away. Harry grew bolder and grasped her breast in his right hand, pinching the pink nipple and causing her to moan. She batted his hands away and sucked on his own nipples. He arched his back and she opened her mouth wider as if she were trying to engulf him.

Practised fingers removed his belt and unbuttoned his pants. She tugged them down, urgent but never rushed. Somewhere in his addled mind, it occurred to him that she was far more experienced than he was. Before that thought could continue, her mouth engulfed him whole. He reached for anything he could grab and settled for her hair. She made no move to push his hand away as he experienced pleasure beyond his wildest dreams.

Death would be sweet if it were to occur right now. There would be no better way to go. She stopped and he couldn't help the moan that ripped from his throat. He could barely think. He couldn't think at all. All that existed was Fleur. Her blonde hair. Her smooth skin. Her shapely body. She laid next to him, her chest heaving up and down and pulling his gaze towards them. She kissed him and Harry found that her eyes were a solid blue. His mind clouded again as he leaned over her. Fleur spread her legs, hooking one around his hip. Her hands gripped his shoulders and then ghosted over his back.

She froze.

The stillness was so unsettling that Harry froze as well. He hovered over her, aching to be inside, but he could not move. Her hand traced the scar along his back. her fingers pressing and depressing along the criss cross pattern that Vernon had created. Harry tried to think of something to say, but his head was still clouded with lust. The red wave was receding, but he could say nothing.

Fleur shattered the stillness by throwing him off her bed. The force was too strong to be mistaken as anything else but magic. He collapsed on the floor, naked and hard. His mind was starting to clear as he finally looked at Fleur for the first time.

The blueness of her eyes was shocking. There was no pupil. It was just a solid blue, clear as the water in the sea. A perceptible glow hovered inches off her naked skin. Her beautiful, blonde hair had a life of its own, floating in the air. Fleur was a beautiful menace.

Then, it all disappeared. The glow was gone. Her eyes returned to its normal shade. Her hair fell down as if anchored on each end. Her hands went to her face and she moaned, but it was not the pleasurable moan he had heard just seconds before.

"Je ne peux pas. Je ne peux pas. Il est un enfant. Je ne peux pas…"

Harry took a step towards her. "Fleur…"

"NON!" Fleur threw her hands in front of her and Harry could not move a single muscle. She relaxed and made another motion with her hands and he felt his limbs loosen.

"Non, non, non…" She rocked back and forth, openly weeping. The sound was horrifying. It was unearthly and bone shaking.

"Non, non. Je ne le tomperai pas. Il est un efant…"

"Fleur, what's wrong?" This time, Harry made no motion to antagonize her.

She stilled and Harry braced himself. His wand was a few feet away, but he still had his wandless magic though he doubted if he could even perform. His mind was still in a strange state.

"Go," Fleur whispered.

"Fleur, I can explain. It's not…"

"GO! LEAVE ME!"

Harry gathered his clothes, rushing to pull his pants on. His head was clear and his heart was numb. Would any girl ever understand? Would they be the same when their fingers touched the scars on his back? He gulped, swallowing the bitter tears. He would not cry. He would not cry. He would not…

Wiping the tears away, Harry ran. He could still hear Fleur's weeping as he flew through the door. Tearing the snow, Harry ran with no direction or purpose. He descended, flying down the stairs with reckless abandon. One false step and he would have broken his neck, but he did not care. Down he went until he found a small alcove somewhere in the dungeons. He curled into it, draping his robes to cover himself. There was barely enough room to extend his legs and his head kept bumping against the wall. It was his cupboard underneath the stairs and he fell asleep to the sound of Vernon raging against the locked door.

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"The boy was careless. His mind was -"

"Leave him be, Severus. He's suffered enough for one night."

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