Fleur De Lis Ch. 5 (Patreon)

Content Warnings: Teasing

“What’s going on?” Hermione hissed, watching Harry numbly climb to his feet and walk towards Fleur. A hush had fallen on the Great Hall, every single person following the unexpected champion’s journey with different expressions on their faces. “This can’t be happening.”

She watched Harry walk up to Dumbledore, who simply nodded to the door behind the teacher’s table.

“He’s going through with it?! He can’t! Hogwarts already has a champion. Harry isn’t ready for something like this!”

Gabrielle had pulled her hand away from Hermione’s legs and she gently grasped the panicking girl’s arm, squeezing it lightly. “It’ll be alright. I’m sure they’ll sort it out in the room. Better to do it there than a place where the eyes of three whole schools are on them,” Gabrielle whispered, sounding uncharacteristically serious.

“Gabrielle, I distinctly remember talk of mortal peril,” Hermione groaned, on the verge of hyperventilating. “The tasks are probably designed keeping the abilities of Fleur and the others in mind. Harry’s nowhere close to that level yet.”

“Hey. Hey!” Gabrielle gently pinched Hermione’s side. “Listen to me. You know why I float through life acting like an idiot?”

“Because you’re a Veela who can incinerate anyone who tries to make you understand the consequences of your actions?”

“How’d you-”

“Harry told me. Plus, your hair, eyes, and every boy in the castle acting like a simpering fool around you gave it away as well,” Hermione muttered nervously.

“Right. And yes, while I am skilled in the… shall we say, setting things to fire department, that’s not why I am the way I am. It’s because all my life I’ve had a big sister who made sure I was safe and protected, no matter what. She was the best friend I could ever ask for. And now she’s Harry’s friend too. Fleur will take care of him, I promise. I bet she’ll march out here in ten minutes and proclaim this is all some big misunderstanding,” Gabrielle murmured, chewing her lip nervously. She wished she could believe her own words. She really did. But a sinking feeling in her chest told her it wouldn’t quite be so simple. Life never was.

Hermione didn’t say anything. She simply grabbed Gabrielle’s hand and threaded their fingers together, watching Harry disappear into the room with Fleur nervously.

                                                              ---

“If you wanted to spend more time with me you could have just told me. You didn’t have to put my name in the Goblet too,” Harry whispered jokingly as he reached Fleur, trying something, anything, to distract from the growing anxiety threatening to consume him.

Fleur blinked. “I did not-” She took a panicked breath, her eyes growing wide. “I swear on my sister I did not. I do not know why your name came out after mine, but I promise I would never-”

“Relax. I know you didn’t.” Harry reached out to grab her wrist, gently squeezing it. Fleur’s eyes traveled to her wrist, her cheeks heating up at the feel of his calloused fingers against her soft skin. “Making stupid jokes is how Ron and I deal with life-threatening situations.”

“You… you talk like you face them often.”

“Often enough,” Harry sighed as they walked into the room. The panic was slowly ebbing away as the realization set in that even if he were forced to participate in the tournament, it wouldn’t be the worst thing he’d ever faced. Not by far. Having to kill a sixty-foot snake with a murderous gaze certainly put a lot of things into perspective. “I guess it was too much to expect a quiet year where the most exciting thing happening to me is making new friends from foreign lands.”

“You did not put your name in the Goblet?” Fleur asked, ignoring the curious glances from the other two champions.

“No. Even if I wanted to, if Fred and George can’t think of a way past Dumbledore’s age line, I didn’t have a chance. Besides, I was with Ron all night. I went to cheer him up and stayed well past curfew so I just bunked in the bed next to his.”

“What’s going on?” Cedric asked, looking at the two with a confused expression on his face.

Harry was prevented from answering by the door slamming open. He groaned internally as he watched Snape swoop in like an overgrown bat.

“Great,” he muttered under his breath. There was no chance of explaining his innocence, not with him around. Thankfully, he was flanked by Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore. The trio were followed by Karkaroff, who looked like he’d pop an artery any minute, and Madame Maxime, who was looking at Harry and Fleur gravely.

“You’ve done it now, Potter,” Snape said gleefully the minute Karkaroff slammed the door behind him. Harry was surprised the man wasn’t rubbing his hands together. He certainly looked like he was about to break out into a happy song and dance.

“I didn’t do anything,” Harry said with a deep breath, knowing there was no point to his protestations of innocence.

“You think you’re above the rules, Potter?” Snape hissed. “Did you think it’d be fun and games to ignore all instructions and regulations? You should be expelled just for your arrogance in thinking you’re above the law.”

“I didn’t-” Harry started, even though he knew it was pointless.

“Harry, did you put your name in the Goblet?” Dumbledore asked calmly, cutting him off.

“I did not,” Harry replied firmly.

“Did you ask someone else to put it in for you?”

“Be reasonable, Albus,” Professor McGonagall cut in tartly. Harry’s heart soared. His Head of House was tough but fair. Surely she’d see he had nothing to do with this? “Fooling something as powerful as the Goblet takes arcane knowledge that requires years of study. Even if Potter wanted to enter, neither he nor any student in this school possessed the knowledge to fool the Goblet. To get past your age line perhaps, but that’s of no use unless they can get the Goblet to accept his name and ensure it chooses Potter as a champion.”

“Perhaps he had help from someone not of this school.” Snape’s lip curled in disgust as he turned to Fleur, taking in the Gryffindor cloak wrapped around her shoulders. “Just like his father, Potter has obviously gotten a woman to do his dirty work,” he sneered, eyeing Fleur like she was a particularly disgusting sea slug.

“Surely you are not suggesting our champion had a hand in this?” Madame Maxime sniffed imperiously, sounding offended even at the suggestion of impropriety on Fleur’s part.

“Be reasonable Severus,” Professor McGonagall asked wearily. Harry could tell from the tone of her voice that she didn’t think the man was capable of reason, but that she still had to try and knock some sense into her former student.

“I am being reasonable. It won’t be the first time a girl has completely lost her senses because of a Potter,” Snape snarled.

Harry blinked. Fleur alternated between looking at him and Snape in confusion, unsure why his Professor was attacking him instead of taking his side.

“The girl didn’t put her name in the Goblet along with the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons delegations,” Karkaroff snarled. “She probably wanted to sneak back in the dead of night to put her and her lovers’ names in the Goblet and make sure the bloody cup spat it out.”

Harry was more than used to hostility from Snape. But Karkaroff looked at him like he was a cockroach the smarmy man wanted to crush under his boot, and Harry couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that there was something far deeper than just the Tournament behind the Headmaster’s animosity.

Harry glanced at Fleur. Her cheeks were just as pink as his, and Harry suddenly became acutely aware of the fact that she was wearing his cloak and that his hand still grasped her wrist.

“Has everyone in this room lost their minds?!”

Harry’s eyes widened. Never once had he seen Professor McGonagall lose her temper, and the rage in her voice was enough to stun everyone into silence, even Snape and Karkaroff.

“Minerva-”

“Don’t ‘Minerva’ me, Albus. This is insanity, and you know it.” Professor McGonagall cut Dumbledore off mid-sentence. “There is no way the girl did this, and you know it. While I’m sure Miss Delacour is supremely talented and able, to fool something as ancient as the Goblet requires an arcane knowledge of runes well beyond the capability of everyone in this room, except perhaps you. It would take even Septima a week to come up with something workable. Not only did the person have to make sure the Goblet accepted Potter’s name, but they also had to ensure the name would be picked.”

“How would it do that?” Madame Maxime finally piped up.

“Maybe whoever did it tricked the Goblet into thinking four schools were participating instead of three,” Moody growled, the sound of his wooden stump hitting the rough stone floor echoing around the room as he limped into the room flanked by Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch Sr. “Potter’s name would be the only entry from the last school. The fake one. The Goblet would have no choice but to pick his name.”

“That’s a remarkable theory, Alastor,” Dumbledore murmured as he turned to the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, his electric blue eyes studying his old friend intently.

“I know these people. What they think like.”

“These people?” Dumbledore asked.

Moody’s fake eye swiveled to a suddenly uncomfortable Karkaroff. “Dabblers of Dark Arts. Traitors. Cowards,” he spat.

“Everyone is innocent until proven guilty, Alastor.”

“While that’s a noble sentiment, he does have a point, Albus,” Minerva sighed. “His theory plausibly explains why the Goblet shot out both Diggory and Potter’s names.”

“Whoever did it obviously wanted to give Hogwarts an undue advantage,” Karkaroff screeched. “The Goblet was placed in the castle and everyone in it had unsupervised access to it at all times. It was one of you.”

“Or it could be someone who wanted to hurt Potter,” Moody growled, his fake eye boring into Karkaroff. “Someone upset that his mates didn’t finish the job in the forest after the Quidditch Final, perhaps? Oh yeah, I heard all about it. Where were you when all of it was going down, Karkaroff?”

“Alastor,” Dumbledore said, placing a warning hand on the grizzled Ex-Auror’s shoulder.

“I’m just saying the Headmaster from Durmstrang protests too much and far too loudly. Given his previous affiliations, one might be mistaken for being somewhat suspicious.”

“I was cleared by the court,” Karkaroff hissed.

“Can we circle back to the part about wanting to hurt me?” Harry asked, breaking the tension in the air.

“Champions have died in the past, Potter. Been horribly disfigured and maimed. Torn from limb to limb,” Moody muttered, a disturbing tone of glee in his voice. “In the seventeenth century, Theodore Prewett was left with one eye, one arm, and two toes at the end of the tournament. That’s all. Nothing more.”

How a man could have toes without feet, Harry did not know. The queasy feeling returned, the panic starting to rise in his chest once more.

“Now now Alastor. We have made every effort to ensure the tournament is as safe as possible this year,” Bagaman chimed in unhelpfully. “There is little chance of the champions getting mortally wounded this year.”

“Perhaps we can reduce the chance of that happening to me to a nice zero?” Harry suggested. “Cedric is the rightful champion. I’ll happily withdraw.”

“You cannot,” Crouch said softly, his face cloaked in the shadows. He remained in the corner of the room, unmoving. “Your name has emerged from the Goblet. This has placed on you a binding magical covenant. You have no choice but to participate in the Triwizard Tournament. To withdraw would be to attract… unpleasant consequences.”

“More unpleasant than mortal peril?” Harry asked, hoping that wasn’t the case. “If it’s something like detention for the entire year I’ll happily do it. Even if it’s with Sna-Professor Snape,” Harry offered, ignoring Snape’s glower. “Okay, that was a lie. I’d probably pick mortal peril over a year of seeing Snape every evening,” Harry added under his breath to Fleur, who grinned and hid her giggle under the guise of coughing.

“Your magical essence would be sundered from your body, leaving you a shallow husk of a man.”

“That does sound very unpleasant,” Fleur whispered.

“He would be begging for the sweet mercy of death if it were to take place, Miss Delacour,” Crouch said softly. “He must participate.”

“But I don’t want to!”

“Should have thought of that before lying and putting-”

“He didn’t!” Fleur cut Snape off. Harry turned to Fleur with a confused look, but she simply smiled at him and turned her wrist, grabbing the hand holding it, and threading their fingers together. “Surely if that can be proved we can come to some sort of accommodation for Harry?”

“Do you have an alibi, Potter? Someone who can vouch for your whereabouts?” Professor McGonagall asked tersely.

“Yes, I was with-”

“Let me guess,” Snape smirked, hoping to close all avenues of escape before he could even begin. “Weasley and Granger can vouch for you. Hardly reliable witnesses. They’ve lied for you before and I’m sure they’d have no trouble lying for you again.”

“Actually, he was with me,” Fleur murmured, her cheeks pink. She shifted uncomfortably but cleared her throat and forged on, “I can vouch for him.”

“With you?” Madame Maxime asked imperiously, turning to her student.

“With me.” Fleur nodded. “All night. And all day today, but that hardly matters because there were always people in the Great Hall today during the day.”

“And can you account for his presence every hour of the entire night? Maybe he slipped away after he bored you to sleep,” Snape sneered.

“Every hour of the night.” Fleur paused, thinking on her feet as she tried to come up with a plausible lie. “Because we were… we were making love,” Fleur declared loudly. “It would be hard for him to slip away without me noticing.”

“Making love?” Harry mumbled, his cheeks burning.

“Oui! You promised to uh… to show me the stars, and you did, Harry Potter,” Fleur said, silently gesturing for him to play along.

“All night?!”

Fleur laughed awkwardly. “Mon Dieu, such a passionate young man. He lost all track of time… of everything as he ravished my body again and again and again-”

“All night,” Harry chimed in, finally cottoning on. “Couldn’t have been anywhere near the Goblet because I was showing Fleur uh-”

“Stars.”

“Stars, right. All night.”

“He is the most generous lover. So tender and loving.” Fleur beamed and held up their enjoined hands. “He wrapped his cloak around my trembling body and took care of me. He spent the entire day showing me around ‘ogwarts. He did not put his name in the Goblet.”

“That does not matter, Miss Delacour. The covenant still binds Mister Potter. He will have to participate.”

Harry groaned, his cheeks a dark red.

You like screwing with us, don’t you, Crouch? First the forest and now this. Why didn’t you say that before we invented an entirely fictional sex life and shared it with our teachers?! He thought, scowling at Crouch.

“Two champions from Hogwarts?! Unacceptable! We shall withdraw,” Karkaroff growled, drawing everyone’s attention away from Harry and Fleur.

“You cannot,” Crouch stated flatly. “The same covenant binds your champion as well.”

“Then I demand we get a second champion!”

“Us as well,” Madame Maxime added.

“The flame has been extinguished, Igor. It will not come back until the next tournament. I dislike it as much as you do, but these are the rules we all have to follow,” Dumbledore said with the tiniest shrug of his shoulders.

“This is what I think of your hospitality and your rules, Dumbledore.” Karkaroff spat at Dumbledore’s feet.

Dumbledore sighed. “If you have a solution, I’m all ears, Igor.”

“I-I think I do,” Harry stammered, breaking the uncomfortable silence that seemed to last forever. All eyes turned back to him. He pushed aside the fear rising in his chest, drawing strength from Fleur’s hand gently squeezing his. He could do this. He could skate through the Tournament doing the bare minimum to survive all while helping his friend win the bloody thing.

He owed her that much after she had embarrassed herself in front of her own Headmistress and half the teachers of Hogwarts just to help him.

“Hogwarts already has its rightful champion.” Harry gestured at Cedric, who was leaning against the fireplace next to Krum, both men having remained silent the entire time. “I don’t want to be Hogwarts’ champion. That’s Cedric’s title and he deserves it. So I won’t.”

“Won’t what, Potter?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“I won’t be Hogwarts’ champion.” When everyone stared at him blankly, he took a deep breath and forged on. “The Goblet probably shot out my name because it thinks a fourth school is participating in the tournament and I’m the only one from that school who entered, right? So I will represent that school, not Hogwarts.”

“Did you hit your head during your insipid lovemaking Potter? The school doesn’t exist,” Snape sneered.

“Doesn’t matter,” Harry smirked. All the time he’d spent with the Twins over the summer was finally paying off. Approaching a problem with an unconventional solution was their specialty and some of that skill seemed to have rubbed off on him. “My covenant with the Goblet is under that school and that’s the school I’ll be representing. Hogwarts will have only one champion.”

As the champion of a non-existent school, there was no pressure on him to perform well. No one to let down, no friends or fellow students to disappoint. He could bloody well do whatever he wanted.

Cedric could have the glory of representing their school. It wasn’t something he’d wanted in the first place.

“That’s a reasonable solution, Albus,” Professor McGonagall said, her voice filled with pride.

“I agree,” Albus concurred.

“So do I,” Crouch chimed in, while Bagman and Moody shrugged indifferently.

“Madame Maxime?”

“It seems… fair,” Madame Maxime said after thinking for a minute, nodding slowly.

“Igor?” Dumbledore then turned to the last holdout.

Karkaroff simply spat at the floor and stormed out of the room. Snape followed him, a disgusted sneer plastered on his face.

“Then it’s decided!” Bagman said, bouncing on his feet. His belly dangerously jiggled with every bounce and Harry personally felt that the man’s enthusiasm was completely unwarranted. “We have four champions. I’ll announce it to everyone!”

With that, he strode out of the room. Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore followed, leaving only Madame Maxime and the champions in the room.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Miss Delacour,” Madame Maxime said, approaching her student.

“I did what was right,” Fleur said with a small smile. She sounded absolutely certain, and the gentle squeeze to his hand filled Harry with courage.

Whatever lay ahead of them, they’d face it together as friends.

Madame Maxime nodded stiffly and swept out of the room.

“What now?” Harry asked, slowly turning to Fleur.

Krum silently brushed past them but Cedric paused on his way out, smiling at the couple.

“Thanks,” he murmured. “I appreciate what you did, Harry. But if I were the two of you, I’d take the side door out into the Atrium. Get yourself a night’s peace before you’re inevitably mobbed.” He jerked his thumb towards the other door in the room.

“It was the least-” Harry paused. “Wait, both of us?”

“I can assure you everyone saw the cloak around your girlfriend’s shoulders,” Cedric smirked. “And everyone is going to have a theory about what happened here. You and I both know how the Hogwarts gossip mill works. Take the night, come up with a story that’s uhm-” He coughed. “Less graphic.”

Harry nodded, his cheeks heating up again. Fleur was shuffling uncomfortably next to him, her face the same shade of red as his.

“Anyways, goodnight.” Cedric waved and walked out of the room, chuckling softly.

“He has a point.”

Fleur nodded and used their intertwined hands to pull him towards the shut door, unlocking it with a tap of her wand and a quiet ‘Alohomora’. Neither of them said anything as they ignored the noisy Great Hall in favor of walking across the deserted Atrium towards the open castle doors.

Harry had no idea what to talk about.

What does one even say to a friend who pretends to be your girlfriend and lover and puts herself in a highly embarrassing situation just to help you out?

Somehow he felt a simple ‘thank you’ just didn’t cut it.

They were halfway across the Atrium before he heard Professor McGonagall’s voice behind him.

“Potter.” Her tone was its usual crisp, measured one. It held none of the anger Harry had feared from her.

Harry heaved a sigh of relief and turned slowly, a nervous smile on his face.

“I’d like a word,” she said, walking towards them.

“Yes, Professor.” Harry nodded, then turned to Fleur. “Give me a minute?”

Fleur simply nodded in agreement, reluctantly pulling her hand away from his.

“I expect to see you in my office every single day after you’re done with your classes, Potter,” Professor McGonagall said once he was standing in front of her. She dispensed with the small talk in favor of her usual no-nonsense approach to a conversation.

“For how long, Professor?” Harry asked, trying not to pout. Maybe he had been too optimistic in expecting that he’d gotten away scot-free. That was obviously not the case.

“Until the tournament is over.”

An entire year’s worth of detention?!

“But Professor, you have to believe me!” Harry despaired, hoping against hope that his Head of House would change her mind. “I didn’t put my name in the Goblet. I didn’t even pick Ancient Runes as one of my electives.”

“I believed that well before Miss Delacour was forced to share those highly personal details of your relationship, Potter. But since that does not matter and it seems as though you have no choice but to participate in the tournament, I refuse to let you face the tasks unprepared.”

Harry blinked, utterly bewildered by the turn of events.

“Lessons, Potter. I’m calling you to my office every day so I can teach you.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “T-thank you, Professor,” he mumbled, his voice choking with emotion. “Isn’t it against the rules for teachers to help the champions?” he asked, kicking himself in his head the minute he uttered the words. The smart move would have been to keep quiet and accept the help. But something told him she was well aware of the rules. It wasn’t the first time she had bent them to help him out, after all.

“The rules state teachers can’t help the champion of their school, Potter. You’re not the Hogwarts champion and as such, there’s nothing stopping me from helping you prepare.”

“Thank you,” Harry repeated with a grin.

“You’re welcome.” Professor McGonagall raised her hand and for a second it almost seemed like she wanted to grasp his shoulder. In the end, she settled for awkwardly adjusting the pointy hat on her head. “Potter?” she said, clearing her throat delicately.

“Yes, Professor?”

“I was once your age. I’m quite aware of how enchanting… young love can be. But it would be wise for you and Miss Delacour to take… adequate precautions.”

Harry’s face turned the shade of a beetroot. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he mumbled, nodding awkwardly and fleeing before she got it in her head to give him ‘the talk’.

“What’d she want?” Fleur asked, waiting for him by the steps of the castle.

“Lessons. She wants to give me extra lessons.”

“I see the Triwizard tradition of cheating is alive and well.”

“Technically it’s not against the rules for her to help me. Or you, for that matter. I’ll ask her if you can join us. That is, if you’re interested?”

Fleur quirked an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you rather Cedric join you?”

“That would actually be against the rules. And even if it wasn’t, why?”

“Would you rather give the Beauxbatons Champion a leg up or the Hogwarts one?” Fleur shot back.

“I’d be over the moon if you won.”

“Why?”

“Cedric wasn’t the one who put himself in a highly embarrassing situation and lied his ass off to save mine. As happy as I’d be if he were to win, I’ll be rooting for my friend,” Harry replied with a small smile. “Why’d you do it, by the way? Come up with that insane lie? I could have just told them I was with Ron.”

“Judging by the way your Professor acted, he wouldn’t have believed that. Then the rest of them would have doubted your innocence too. At least all of them bought my excuse.” Fleur shrugged.

“That doesn’t answer why you did it.”

“Why do you think I did it?”

“As thanks for saving you in the forest? Now we’re even.”

Fleur rolled her eyes and smirked. “If I recall correctly, I was the one who saved you in the forest. I did this as thanks for giving me your cloak.”

“I did that because you’re my friend and you were cold.”

“Exactly. Friends look out for each other.” Fleur bent and gently brushed her lips against Harry’s cheek. “Goodnight, ‘arry.”

Harry sighed and watched Fleur walk across the courtyard, his cloak fluttering in the wind. “Goodnight, Fleur,” he murmured.

Notes:

A friends-to-lovers Harry/Fleur Story is rare so I was really happy that is what one of my amazing Patrons commissioned! You can also see the AU elements starting to build. Honestly, I always felt that McGonagall should have had a bigger part in Harry's life. If you like my style of writing and want to Commission (One Slot Open) something you've been wanting to read for a while, check out my Guidelines through the Google Drive link in the pinned post or join my Discord! My Discord is also the place to be to see cool story related art!