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Fleur De Lis Chapter 21.
🕑 Added 2024-07-10 15:10:02 +0000 UTCContent Warnings: Teasing.
Since neither of them had to sit for exams, Harry and Fleur simply spent the week their friends gave them practicing charms and dueling on the castle grounds. The Third Task was scheduled on the night of the final day of term. A fitting finale to cap what had been a momentous year.
They spent the morning of the task dueling by the lakeside. Two victories for him, one for her, and a tussle that ended up with him on top of her. Harry ruefully pulled away for air and wriggled lower until he was resting on Fleur’s legs. She hummed happily and crossed her legs.
“What’re you thinking, mon amour?” Fleur asked after a few minutes of silently playing with his messy black hair.
“It’s been a strange year,” Harry murmured. He turned his head away from the sun and buried his face in her lap. “It started so badly but look where we are now.”
“Any regrets?”
“I should’ve kissed you sooner.”
Her musical laugh sent butterflies fluttering in his belly. She tightened her hold on his hair. He grunted in surprise and playfully nipped at her calf.
“Harry! Mon Dieu, such a naughty man!” Fleur gasped. She giggled and swatted his cheek, her melodious laughter transforming into a breathy moan when he trapped her fingers between his lips and began to suck on them lazily.
Harry rolled his eyes at her playful reproach. She was not one for public displays of affection and he mostly behaved himself but he saw no reason to hold back when they were alone. He pulled away and kissed the tips of each finger in turn.
“If you think this is bad you’re going to send me to the naughty corner once you hear what I’ve got planned for tonight.”
“Are we celebrating my victory, Monsieur Potter?”
Harry nipped at her fingers.
“Mine. And you are my prize, Fleur Delacour. I didn’t come this far for a trophy and a thousand galleons.”
“And the fame,” Fleur reminded him.
“I have enough of that.”
“I like your confidence but I’ll be the winner tonight, mon amour. And you can be my prize.”
“You don’t want the trophy, the thousand galleons, and the fame?” Harry raised an eyebrow. “If we’re just fighting for each other I say we skip the tournament and go to your carriage right now. I’m more than happy to surrender, Miss Delacour.”
“You have to earn a Veela, Monsieur Potter. A Veela does not take a human mate lightly.”
“Are you saying we can’t be together if I lose tonight?” Harry asked, a hint of doubt creeping into his voice.
Fleur wrapped her arms around him and squeezed gently.
“Nothing can tear us apart. I am yours no matter what happens tonight.” She ran a finger down his spine, mimicking the initiation of the ritual he had performed to claim her. “Our year and relationship started with this tournament. It is important that we end it properly.”
“It sounds a lot like you’re going to end things with me after tonight,” Harry teased. “I’ll be the shameful, secret fling you had while abroad.”
“You’re a rascal,” Fleur giggled. “Mama is probably planning our wedding as we speak. You are not getting rid of me that easily.”
“A rascal, am I?” Harry growled. He stalked up her body until they were face-to-face again and leaned in until his forehead pressed against hers.
“A silly young man,” Fleur breathed. She licked her lips and peered up at him with wide blue eyes, more than happy to surrender to his advances.
“If I’m so silly, why are you with me?” Harry murmured. He kissed one cheek, then the next. He peppered her face with kisses, laughing happily as she squealed and squirmed under him.
“I like silly young men,” Fleur murmured. She leaned up and shyly kissed him. “And you are handsome.”
The sound of someone awkwardly clearing their throat near them caused Harry to pull away.
“Go away,” Fleur growled.
“Fleur,” Harry kissed her nose and looked at her until she sighed and clenched her fists to extinguish the flames dancing along her fingers.
“Hey, Colin,” Harry said, forcing a smile when he looked up at the red-faced younger boy standing by the tree. “What’s up?”
“Sorry to disturb you, sir-”
“Harry is fine.”
Colin’s hero worship had transformed into something akin to reverence ever since he had defeated the dragon. Gabrielle was highly amused by the fan club he had established and had even become a dues-paying member.
“Sorry to disturb you, Harry.” Colin looked down at the couple, blushed and quickly averted his gaze.
“If this is about Potter Pals, I can’t make it to tonight’s meeting.”
“Uh, no, sir- I mean, Harry. I canceled tonight’s meeting. They need you in the Great Hall.”
“What now?” Harry groaned. “Who summoned me?”
“Uh… both of you. They asked me to fetch madam Delacour too. Professor Dumbledore said he suspected she’d be with you.”
“Is this about the tournament?” Fleur asked, poking Harry’s chest until he rolled off her. She took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet before quickly getting to work on securing her hair into a ponytail again. “We have our instructions. What else could they want with us?”
“I don’t know,” Colin answered. “Professor Dumbledore just asked me to tell you that he’s requested your presence in the Great Hall.”
“Maybe they don’t want us hanging around the maze?” Harry shrugged. “I guess they’re worried we’ll cheat. Thank you, Colin.”
“You’re welcome!” Colin beamed. “Will you be the guest of honor at next year’s inaugural meeting of Potter’s Pals?”
“He’ll think about it,” Fleur said before he could speak. She placed a restraining hand on his chest. “He’s got a lot on his plate right now, Colin.”
“O-Of course!” Colin stammered. His blush deepened and his entire face turned red up to the tip of his ears. He gave Fleur a comical little curtsy. “I have to go. I have an exam.”
“It’s okay, Colin. You don’t have to stick around for us.”
Colin nodded and ran towards the castle, grinning from ear to ear.
“I’ll think about it?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow as he looped his arm with Fleur’s.
Fleur simply chuckled and rested her head on his shoulder. They ambled through the grounds, neither in any hurry to get to the castle.
“Gabrielle is bad enough. Not you too. Why are you egging on Colin’s fan club?” Harry grumbled under his breath. “Did you know Gabrielle’s gotten them convinced that you only wear red bras because that’s my favorite color?”
“Well then, I must set the record right. Your favorite color is sky blue. However, they’re not wrong about how I pick my bras. I just ordered a cute blue lingerie set that’ll take a week to get here from Paris.”
“What?!”
“What’s gotten you so shocked, mon amour?” Fleur giggled.
“How do you plan to set the record right?” Harry asked suspiciously. They attracted a lot of stares as they walked through the courtyard and across the large open doors of the castle into the Atrium but most people were jealous, not hostile.
Their romance was turning into quite the tale and Skeeter’s lurid stories about their ‘perversions’ didn’t help. If it wasn’t the age gap that people gossiped about, it was Fleur’s Veela nature, his connection to Voldemort, or a million other things.
“I’ll give them a list of all the facts they’ve gotten wrong at next year’s inaugural meeting.”
Harry skidded to a halt outside the Great Hall. He turned to look at her, horror wrought all over his face.
“You can’t be serious. You can’t go. It’s bad enough that Gabrielle attends every single meeting.”
“Why not? How can I let this injustice stand? They’re wrong about the most important thing.” Fleur leaned in and kissed him softly. “I am your biggest fan, Harry Potter.”
She gave him a smile that nearly stopped his heart and dashed into the Great Hall.
“Mama! Papa!” Fleur squealed, noticing her parents standing in front of the empty Hufflepuff benches. She ran to them and leapt into her father’s outstretched arms while her mother looked on in mild bemusement.
“You’ve gotten so thin!” Mr. Delacour exclaimed. He pulled back and studied his daughter until Harry had walked up to them, then turned to look at him with a grave expression. “Have you been forcing my daughter to diet, young man?”
“I-” Harry’s eyes flitted to Fleur but she steadfastly ignored him. Her father had been extremely friendly when he’d first met him but that had been when he’d just been Fleur’s friend. Harry knew he couldn’t expect the same friendliness as her boyfriend. “No, sir,” he squeaked.
“Henri,” Mrs. Delacour’s voice was soft, disapproving. “Don’t torment the poor man. We are so glad to have you in the family, ‘arry.” She bent and kissed his cheeks. “Fleur is lucky to have you.”
“And I’m lucky to have her.”
“Don’t you forget that,” Mr. Delacour said as he finally released his hold on Fleur.
“I won’t, sir.”
“Henri is fine,” Mrs. Delacour smiled. “And you must call me Marcille.”
“I told you we’re running late,” a harried voice behind them exclaimed. “If you hadn’t spent an hour on your hair- Harry!”
Harry turned around, his smile transforming into a happy grin at the sight of Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley, and Bill.
“Hi!” Harry managed to get out before Mrs Weasley pulled him into a crushing hug. “What’re… what're you doing here?”
“We wouldn’t miss this for the world, silly boy!” Mrs Weasley said, planting a kiss on his forehead. She pulled away from him and sniffled, her eyes as red as her face. “Dragons! Mermen! Oh, you’ve been so brave.”
“Mum, you promised you’d keep it together,” Bill hissed. “The last thing Harry needs is you making a scene in front of his girlfriend’s parents.”
“Ah, Arthur!” Henri grasped Mr. Weasley’s extended hand and shook it.
“How do you know Mr. Weasley, papa?”
“Met him in the forest after you and Harry returned to the tent, poppet. He stopped me from murdering Monsieur Diggory. We’ve been in touch ever since.”
“Amos can be a bit of a prat at times but he’s a good man. He’s been held up at the office, he should be here soon,” Mr. Weasley said congenially.
“Madam,” Henri murmured as he bent to kiss Mrs. Weasley’s hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you. I have heard a lot about you.”
“All good, I hope,” Mrs. Weasley said, blushing till the roots of her red hair.
“Arthur cannot stop praising his wife.”
“You could learn a thing or two from him, Henri.”
“Mademoiselle, I agree. Henri’s words don’t do your beauty any justice,” Mr. Weasley murmured as he bent to kiss Marcille’s hand.
“He spent all morning practicing that little speech in front of a mirror,” Bill whispered to Harry. He waited until all the introductions were over before squeezing around his parents. He paused in front of Fleur, bent, and kissed her hand. “I’m Bill. I taught Harry everything he knows about romance.”
“I must thank you for being such an excellent teacher, Monsieur Weasley,” Fleur giggled.
“Thankful enough to introduce me to a sister?”
“I only have one and she is fiercely devoted to her girlfriend.”
“Cousins?”
“You’d have to commute to Paris, monsieur Weasley.”
“I’d be open-” Bill yelped as his mother grabbed his ear and dragged him away from Fleur.
Harry grinned. He reached out and took Fleur’s hand and the couple led their families to the far end of the Gryffindor table, away from the rapidly growing crowd of teachers. Harry noticed Cedric walk into the Hall with his parents. Cho and a woman who looked remarkably like her were not far behind them.
“What’re you doing here?”
“Parents are allowed to be in the audience for the Third Task,” Mrs. Weasley said. “I wasn’t going to miss it! Bill and Arthur took time off work so they could be here.”
“Thank you,” Harry whispered. “You didn’t have to come.”
“Don’t be silly!” Mrs Weasley reached out to take Harry’s hand. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Now, why are you so skinny? I think I need to have a chat with Minerva. You’re still growing, you need all the energy you can get.”
“Quite right,” Marcille sniffed disapprovingly. “If they’re forcing my girl to face a dragon, the least they can do is feed her properly.”
“Mama!” Fleur groaned. “Nobody is forcing me to do anything.”
Mrs. Weasley tutted and began to pile everyone’s plates with food.
“Eat up,” Bill recommended. “You’ll want a heavy lunch and a light dinner. I never go curse-breaking on a full stomach. Dulls your wits.”
“You’re a cursebreaker?!” Fleur asked. “Do you have any tips for the maze?”
Harry speared a roast potato with his fork and bit into it, intently listening to everything Bill told them. Most of it was fairly standard advice that Professor McGonagall had already given them but a lot of the niche tips and tricks about traps and puzzles could only have come from a seasoned cursebreaker. Harry was glad Mr and Mrs Weasley had the foresight to bring Bill along and thankful to the man for taking time off work and helping someone who was only his brother in name.
Neither of them had much of an appetite but they ate everything put on their plates under the watchful eyes of the two mothers. Once lunch was over they spent the rest of the afternoon showing the Delacours the castle and the grounds, with Gabrielle, Hermione, Ron, and Lavender joining them once they were done with the last of their exams.
With the sun slowly dipping below the horizon, the group returned to the Great Hall. Harry and Fleur were getting increasingly antsy and Bill took advantage of a quiet moment to pull them aside.
“Grab some toast and get out.”
“What?” Harry asked.
“You heard me. Mum’s busy fussing over Lavender, she won’t notice until it’s too late.”
“Mama and papa-”
“I don’t think anything exists in the world except for Hermione right now,” Bill murmured with a glance at the Delacours. The Delacours were utterly captivated and hanging onto Hermione’s every word as she explained her latest Arithmancy project to them. “You have a couple of hours until the Task. Spend it away from the circus here.”
“What if they-”
“They’ll understand. I’ll tell them you needed some time to yourself.” Bill squeezed Harry’s shoulder, then turned to wink at Fleur. “Don’t forget about that introduction to your cousin, Mademoiselle Delacour.”
“Done.” Fleur grinned and grabbed Harry’s hand, pulling him down the table before anyone could notice them making their escape. She dumped a stack of toast on a napkin, wrapped it, and made her escape out of the Great Hall with Harry in tow.
“Are we going back to our spot by the lake?” Harry asked as they slowed down. The spring air was pleasantly cool but not chilly. It would have been the perfect weather to enjoy an outdoor picnic were it not for the jitters of the rapidly approaching Third Task. “We can continue what we were doing before we were so rudely interrupted,” Harry murmured, wiggling his eyebrows.
“I have something else in mind,” Fleur admitted shyly. She was silent until they reached their favorite spot by the lake and Harry had settled down against the trunk of the aged oak tree. “Can you hold me, please?”
Harry frowned. It was rare to hear such worry in her voice.
“Is everything alright?”
Fleur nodded. She allowed Harry to take her hand and pull her into his lap. She carefully balanced the stack of toast on his left knee and settled against his chest, clinging to his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around her.
“Everything is perfect. That’s what worries me. Your family,” she looked up and kissed his chin, “the one that counts, likes me, mama, and papa. Mama and papa love you and the Weasleys.”
“… and that’s bad?”
“If everything is perfect, why can’t I shake the feeling that something is about to go horribly wrong?”
“You’re not alone,” Harry sighed. “I’ve felt uneasy ever since that night I met Professor Dumbledore. There’s something that I’m missing but I can’t figure out what it is and that’s driving me crazy.”
“What did Professor Dumbledore tell you?”
“He told me to forget about everything else and to concentrate on the tournament.”
“Smart man.”
Fleur rested her head on his chest, right over his heart. She closed her eyes and let his steady heartbeat lull her into a peaceful slumber.
Harry smiled and leaned against the scarred trunk of the oak tree. Fleur snuggled into his side, sleepily rejecting his offer of a piece of toast.
He looked across the lake at the orange sky and the clouds lazily floating across the sky until the last vestiges of day dipped below the horizon and it was dark. Fleur was fast asleep in his arms, snoring cutely. Again and again, he mulled over everything they knew. Voldemort had returned and Pettigrew was by his side. Had the man snuck into Hogwarts as a rat to put his name in the Goblet? What purpose had that served?
He wasn’t dead. He wasn’t even maimed. What had his participation in the Triwizard Tournament achieved?
He kept mulling over it until it came to him, slowly at first, then all at once. He had been forced to participate in a life-threatening tournament that had taken up all his time, attention, and energy. More, importantly-
“Dumbledore said he had kept a close watch on me from the start of the tournament,” Harry whispered to himself.
Surely Voldemort knew as well as he did that Dumbledore would have never allowed him to die. What better way to tie up the Headmaster and prevent him from hunting down Pettigrew and Voldemort?
With him fighting for his life and Dumbledore distracted the duo could wait in the shadows, gathering strength in peace. How many of his followers had flocked to his side in a year? Had he gotten his body back? Was he planning an attack?!
“Harry?” Fleur mumbled sleepily, roused from her slumber by his agitation. “Is it time?”
“Sorry.” Harry bent and kissed her forehead. “Nearly. It’s probably a good idea for you to wake up and wash your face.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I just realized something. It’s not important and can wait until after the Third Task.”
“Okay.” Fleur kissed his cheek and pulled away from him, stretching slowly. She crawled across the soft sand to the edge of the lake and scooped up some water in her palm, splashing her face with it. “You ready to lose, Potter?”
“You ready to give me my prize when I win?”
Fleur helped Harry to his feet. They walked the short distance to the transformed Quidditch pitch in silence, too overcome by growing nerves to say anything. Gabrielle and Hermione were waiting for them at the bottom of the spectator stands.
“All of them wanted to be here, making a huge bloody scene.” Gabrielle rolled her eyes. “I told them to sit in the stands.”
“Thank you.” Fleur happily let her younger sister pull her into a hug. “Harry and I need to focus and you know what maman’s like.”
“She hasn’t stopped glaring at Madame Maxime since the judges took their seats,” Gabrielle chuckled. “Mama intends to have a very strong discussion with her about her betrayal.”
“Huh?”
“She promised to look after Fleur at the start of the year. It’s not important,” Hermione said quickly. “Harry, did you check your wand?”
“It hasn’t left my sight all day. Not tampered with.”
“Do you remember Bill’s advice?”
“Yes-”
“And the charms we practised last week?”
“Yes-”
“And-”
Harry grasped Hermione’s shoulders and shook her gently.
“I remember everything. I’m fine, I promise.” He kissed her cheek, laughing at her flustered smile. “I’ll be okay. Why don’t you go join Ron and Lavender? Stop Mrs. Weasley before she starts planning their wedding.”
“Okay. But at the first sign of trouble me and Gabrielle are burning our way through the maze, the tournament be damned.”
“I’ll be very cross with you if you don’t beat my sister, Potter.”
“I’ll try my best, Delacour.”
He fist-bumped the young Veela and watched her climb up the stands to the seats Ron was saving for them. Within minutes of their arrival, Cedric and Krum were next to them, both bidding quiet goodbyes to their families. Harry nodded at the two men before reaching out to take Fleur’s hand.
“Ready?”
Fleur nodded.
“I-I love you,” she whispered, her cheeks bright red. “I know it’s too soon and you don’t have to say it back. I just wanted you to know in case something happens. I’m not being pushy-”
“Fleur?” Harry squeezed her hand. He responded to her smile with a slightly manic grin of his own. “I love you too. And the only bad thing that’s going to happen is me not letting you touch my trophy.”
“Fat chance, Potter.”
“Bring it on, Delacour.”
“Champions!” Bagman’s voice boomed around the stands. “The task before you is simple. Somewhere in this maze is the Triwizard Cup. Navigate it successfully and retrieve the cup. The person to do so shall be declared the new champion!”
The crowd erupted in a mixture of cheers and boos.
“Your starting advantage depends on your standing. Mister Potter will go first, followed by Miss Delacour five minutes later. Mister Krum will follow the lady after three minutes and Mister Diggor shall bring up the rear, waiting another two minutes before joining his compatriots in the maze. I have nothing more to say except I wish you luck and may the odds be in your favor!”
Another cheer rippled through the crowd.
“Mister Potter, starting position please. You may enter the maze when you hear a bang from my wand.”
Harry reluctantly disentangled himself from Fleur and walked up to the entrance of the maze. A five-minute advantage. That was an insurmountable lead unless he managed to completely cock it up, which he had no intention of doing. He took a deep breath and dove into the maze at the sound of the bang.
It was dark, with only light from the stars in the cloudless night sky available to guide him. He resisted the urge to light his wand. The darkness was as much his friend as it was his foe. It made it difficult for him to check for dangers but it also shielded him from most predators prowling the narrow lanes of the maze. A thick fog rolled across the normally grassy ground, making it all but impossible to check for traps.
One foot in front of the other, he reminded himself. He had reached the first bifurcation in the maze by the time he heard the next bang. Fleur was now in the maze. He forced thoughts of her out of his mind and directed all of his focus on the choice in front of him.
Trust your nose.
He decided to follow Bill’s advice. The lane to his left smelled sickeningly sweet. The one to his right had a familiar musty odor. No good choices but the one on his left felt like an obvious trap.
Harry dove into the right lane before he could second-guess his choice. The musty odor came from the last remaining Blast-Ended Skrewt. The massive creature dragged itself down the narrow passageway, trilling softly and leaving a slimy trail in its wake.
Another bang.
Fighting it was risky and would take too long, and he had no desire to hurt or kill a creature so dear to Hagrid’s heart. He pulled out his wand and tapped himself on the head, casting a hasty disillusionment charm on himself.
Poor eyesight, no sense of smell. As long as he remained quiet, it was more than possible for him to simply bypass the Skrewt. He pushed himself against the thick hedge that made up the wall of the maze and began to slowly and carefully inch around the creature. His eyes remained fixed on the massive stinger swaying at the Skrewt’s backside. He had little room to manoeuvre. He kept going, taking a deep breath and sucking in his gut when he squeezed past its massive, armored carapace.
The fourth and last bang. They were all in the maze now. He knew the maze moved but he had to wonder what he’d do if someone ended up in the same part as him. If it was Fleur, he’d just stick to their plan. A friendly duel where they’d try to disarm the other. The others… he wasn’t sure.
The mixture of his thoughts and the fog rolling under his feet would nearly prove deadly. He stepped on a twig and it cracked under his feet with a soft snap.
The Skrewt reacted instinctively and lashed out with its stinger. He dove but was too slow and the stinger buried itself in his left shoulder. He was tossed away as the Skrewt shook its tail free, landing some distance away from it on the other side. He forced three fingers in his mouth to stifle his groan and slowly crawled away, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. The Skrewt lost interest in a prey it could not see and happily lapped up the blood clinging to the blades of grass. It was following his trail, cleaning up every drop of blood as it slowly approached his prone body.
Harry steeled himself and pressed his wand against his bleeding wound, cauterizing it with a burning spell. He bit back a scream and scrambled to his feet the second his vision cleared. Down. Down and away from the Skrewt as fast as his legs could carry him. At the next T-junction, he turned left and ran into a wall of thick, black fog.
It too, smelled familiar. The moment he realized what it was, he clamped his eyes shut to avoid the horrifying visions the Trinian fog would project into his consciousness. It was only partially successful. A panicked scream that sounded suspiciously like Fleur pierced the stillness of the night and rang in his ears. He refused to open his eyes and he forced himself not to run to her.
It was not her, he reminded himself. It was the fog playing tricks on his mind.
Fleur can take care of herself.
Surprisingly, the fog did not last very long. It dispelled within minutes and was completely gone by the time he reached the end of the lane. He only had one way he could go. Left again, deeper into the maze. Before he could reach the exit, however, the hedges shifted in front of his eyes. The exit to the left closed and another opened right in front of him.
He sighed and forged ahead. It was a winding path without any surprises and within minutes he was in a clearing and situated in the middle of the space on a pedestal was the Triwizard Cup, glowing dimly in the darkness.
Harry paused. It was easy. Too easy. Sure, he had injured his shoulder and was lightheaded from blood loss but nothing other than the Skrewt had tried to stop him. Even the fog had gone away far too quickly. Was it a coincidence? Or sheer luck?
He didn’t know and the entire thing stank to high hell.
Trust your nose.
Bill’s advice ringing in his ears, he slowly made his way to the pedestal, keeping every sense on high alert for a potential trap. He reached the pedestal and nothing. No poisonous gas, no deadly fog, no creature of any variety. Somehow it made him feel even worse.
After all he’d been through to get here, would it really be that simple?
He looked around the empty clearing and decided to wait. If the maze was as easy for everyone as it had been for him the arrival of another champion was all but certain.
No one came. There were no sounds, no bangs, nothing to indicate what was going on. Only an eerie silence and the dull blue of the cup next to him.
“Stop overthinking it and just end it,” he muttered to himself. “Fleur will understand.”
He reached out and grabbed the cup, an unfamiliar tension growing behind his navel the second his skin made contact with the cold metal. Before he could comprehend what was happening or pull his hand away, the portkey activated and dragged him away into the aether.
It dropped him three feet in the air. He landed on his injured shoulder and instinctively rolled into a ball as a wave of pain washed over him.
“Fuck,” he groaned. His vision was blurry from unshed tears but he could see enough to know he was no longer in the maze. He tightened his grip on his wand.
“Is he here?” a shrill, cold voice rasped.
“Yes, my lord!”
A familiar voice. Pettigrew?!
“Bring him to me.”
Harry turned in the direction of the voices but collapsed to the ground the moment he spotted the short, plump man standing next to a baby’s cradle. His vision darkened and his grip loosened on his wand. It fell to the wet dirt with a quiet thud.
Harry gasped and fell to his knees, his hands desperately rubbing his scar to alleviate the unbearable burning. His scar was on fire, hurting in a way it never had before.
Pettigrew walked up to him and kicked his wand away. He grabbed his arm and dragged him to his feet. Harry tried to kick him away but his body simply wouldn’t respond. The traitor pulled his limp body to a statue and conjured ropes to secure him to it.
“Harry Potter,” the voice that had haunted his nightmares all year rasped. “We meet again.”
Notes:
What's that? A twist you did not expect? No spare? No second champion? Oh, yes, this is getting very interesting! What happened to Cedric? What happened to Fleur? Was that a real scream? Maybe. Maybe it was just the fog. I guess you'll have to wait to find out. The good news is that there will be another chapter this month so you do not have to wait too long! This is also the time I shill for my discord server, please join and talk on it, I need more people to test my story theories and new ideas on.
Comments
DitaS
Oh the wait is killing me🫠
Stormfox2
This is a really cruel clivehanger 🫠
