Ecstatic Immolation

Ecstatic Immolation

Chapter 2: Cloistered

The world was awash in the green light for what seemed like ages, though it may only have been seconds. Harry drifted in it the light, surrounded by its warmth and let his thoughts wander. Something had just happened that he, quite accurately, sensed would change his life forever.

Oddly, it seemed like most of the major changes in his life were accompanied by flashes of green light. This one appeared to be much more pleasant than the others, however, so maybe his luck was changing.

"I always pictured the Killing Curse as being cold," he mumbled to himself as he drifted, though he didn't know if his voice actually made a sound. He didn't recall feeling the curse when he was a child, but he'd always imagined it that way. He'd spent a fair amount of time thinking about that, through some of his rougher patches at Hogwarts and with the Dursleys. When his "family" had imprisoned him during the summer after his first year, he'd spent a remarkable about of time wondering if death at the age of eighteen months might not have been preferable to the waking nightmare he was living.

Of course, that was before his best friends, the Dementors, had brought those repressed memories into horrid clarity. That green light was so vibrant had been interesting in a morbid sort of way. However, he could certainly have done without hearing his mother's final moments over and over again.

Eventually, when the green warmth faded, Harry began to regain feeling in his body. The first sensation to return was the feeling in his fingers, though it quickly surged from there over the rest of his body. The first thing his fingertips told him is that the surface beneath him was granular but soft and cushioning. As his vision became more distinct, the world resolved itself into a clear blue sky. He lay there for a while, not quite certain what had happened, but with a pleasant lethargy in his muscles that made him want to keep his position for just a moment longer.

"What just happened?" a voice asked, and he realized with some amusement that it was his. When a feminine groan answered, he decided that he'd had enough of a lie-down and slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. He was resting on the sandy shore of a lake which looked quite similar to the lake at Hogwarts, though the beach he was on was far more comfortable than the stony shores surrounding that Scottish body of water.

In the distance, he spotted Hogwarts, looking as impressive as ever, and the expansive grounds. Everything was flush with early summer's warmth and somewhere there were birds singing. Closer, he saw Fleur resting on the sandy shore and his breath caught in his throat as he took in her radiant form.

As he stared at her, transfixed, his mind kept playing over the conversation they'd had just before the light had taken then. They were or would be "more than married" by some ancient magic. For a boy whose romantic experiences had so far accounted for one disastrous sort-of-date to a Yule Ball, that was a pretty monumental thing. As he watched, she slowly rose, just as he had before, her pretty hands rubbing across her eyes as though to wipe away sleep.

"I think that I just learned an important lesson about the nature of magic and bonds," Fleur muttered in a grim tone, eliciting a questioning look from Harry. She shook her golden blond hair, causing Harry's lips to suddenly grow dry as the platinum strands caught the light and framed her face in a moment of unearthly beauty. She was beautiful, which appealed to him on one level, but terrified him on many more.

Harry did not respond as she rose from where she'd also been resting on the ground. She offered him her hand, and he stared at it dumbly for a moment before realizing what she'd indicated. Swallowing his fear, he placed his calloused hand in hers and felt a tingle rush up his arm they touched once more. It felt pleasant and familiar. Comforting and pushing his fear down.

"I tried to say that I accepted the bond but not just yet... but in my heart, I had already accepted it," Fleur continued, with a faint blush which caused something to stir deep in Harry's chest. "I believe that the Bond took my partial declaration as sufficient and activated."

Words seemed to worm their way through the haze into which Harry found himself and he blinked. "Why would that happen? Shouldn't you have to, you know, actually say what you're supposed to say to get it to work?" For a moment he forgot Fleur's beauty, at least to the extent that he'd ever be able to forget that, and was genuinely curious.

Fleur gave him a strange look, but it faded quickly, "I forget that you have not finished your schooling yet, 'arry," she said with just a touch of her accent still bleeding through the odd translation the Bond performed. While Harry felt a little embarrassed that he didn't understand whatever concept was being discussed, the tingle that her throaty accent gave him softened the blow considerably. A vicious part of his mind realized that she had just thought him immature, though she had glossed over it.

Heedless of his internal turmoil, the Veela pressed on. "Intent is the most important part of anything, when magic is involved. It is why you can cast spells without the words or the wand movements if you can summon up the intent to do so without them. With those of us with Veela blood, it's even truer than with most as Veela magic is done without wands. You would cover this in a couple of years, most likely," she finished and again that monster inside Harry reminded him that he was just a little boy in her eyes.

Harry quashed those thoughts and nodded, understanding a little of what she meant about intent. He'd seen the Veela fling fire at the World Cup and it hadn't looked like they were casting spells. It followed that magical creatures didn't have to follow all the same rules as wizards and witches. Maybe wizards and witches didn't really have to follow those rules, either, though it must be difficult or else everyone would do things that way.

He looked around and realized that they were on the shore of the lake by Hogwarts, but the castle itself looked a little different. The sky, also, was a beautiful shade of bluish purple which it didn't normally have. "That doesn't explain what happened, though. Why did the... our Bond bring us here?" he asked, blushing as he placed some ownership on the Bond. His internal doubts again pulled at him, asking him what right he had to place a claim in that manner.

"We are in the," Fleur began but paused, trying to find the right words. "The place that the newly Bonded go to complete the process. It is mentioned in passing in the old texts, but not much is written about it. All that is said is that once the Bond is made, the," here she paused again and looked for a word, "the partners vanish for a time. When they come back, they are much changed."

"So... do you suppose that we're alone here?" he asked, painfully aware of how close the tall blond girl was to him and the internal war that her presence was causing within him. He wanted nothing more than to pull her lips down to his and snog her senseless, but the thought of doing that, while enticing, almost killed him with embarrassment and self-doubt.

"Maybe. I don't know. These Bonds are so rare that there are few records of them, and this is the part that the previous Bonded generally failed to speak of. Right now, however, we have something much more important that we must address," she said and turned to face him. She was blushing again and Harry couldn't help but think that it made her look unbelievable. He sparkling blue eyes stared deep into his and his lips were suddenly painfully dry. When she spoke again, her voice had dropped a few octaves and sounded even more throaty than normal. "If you don't kiss me within the next minute, I will throw you into the lake."

Laughing nervously, Harry reached up and slid his fingers through her perfect hair. His hand rested gently on the back of her head as his other found its way to her waist and he pulled her toward him. As her head bent down, he was slightly annoyed that she was so much taller than him, but his annoyance vanished when their lips met and something just as magical as what had happened in the Third Task happened. Harry had never been one for romance novels, which were Hermione's secret vice, but he knew enough about kissing to know that something far beyond just physical attraction and emotions were involved in this one. It was as though his soul was rushing into Fleur's soul and hers back into his with their lips as the conduit.

The feeling was absolutely intoxicating, but it broke after a moment. Physically, the kiss itself had been a chaste one, somewhat dry and awkward, but emotionally it had been much more intense than any kiss had a right to be. Some of Harry's doubts fell away in that instant, though he was still quite nervous about looking like a fool in front of the much more experienced girl. Somewhere in the midst of that short kiss, their knees had grown week and when they finally came to their senses, they were resting on the sandy shore again, only touching lightly with their outstretched hands. Harry absently noted that the sand did not cling to them or abrade them as sand is often prone to do. It was as though the sand were an idealized echo of real sand that had been placed there specifically for their comfort.

Harry was interrupted from his musings as Fleur grabbed his hand more firmly and rolled to her feet, dragging him with her and pulling him into the shallows of the lake. The water was pleasantly warm, but Harry still yelped in surprise until he got his bearings and the two of them splashed and frolicked for a while before trudging their way up to the castle.

In this place, things seemed real, but only to a certain extent. The sky was blue, but it wasn't exactly the right blue. The water was warm, but it was too warm for a Scottish lake, even in the summer, and they seemed to dry out far faster than they should have after they got out of the water. Harry filed these little differences away in the back of his mind and, more or less, dismissed them as the product of magic.

Magic was like that.

... BREAK ...

Inside the castle, they found the place to be similar but dissimilar to the real Hogwarts. While they looked the same on the outside, this version did not have as many interior rooms as the real one. The great hall was still there, of course, as was the entry way, but the passageways and corridors that Harry never traveled were simply not there. The distances between points had also been shortened, which made getting around easier. Also, while there were still portraits on the walls, they did not move or talk. It made the castle a lot quieter, though Harry couldn't say that he was displeased with it.

They spent a while exploring the rearranged castle and eventually found their way to the Gryffindor common room. The girls' and boys' staircase had been removed, replaced with a single stair going downward in the middle. When Harry and Fleur followed it, they found a few interesting rooms at the end of a short corridor, including a bedroom with two large beds and a study.

On a podium in the middle of the study, a softly glowing book rested. Somehow drawn to it, Harry and Fleur approached it and touched the plain cover. As their fingers brushed it, the book sprang open and words started to appear on the first page, just as Harry had seen with the diary in his second year. Harry forced himself not to recoil as the book's method of communication called back old memories and instead read what it was "saying". Because of the pace of the writing, it felt natural to recite the words along with the book.

"Welcome, Bonded. This book was prepared by Markus and Devella, about six thousand years ago. We were not the first of the Bonded, as we had Mentors, but we were the first to leave behind a record. Before you leave this place, you will be expected to add anything to it that you feel needs to be added. You may wonder where you are, as did we when we first appeared in a world such as this. This place you find yourselves in is a dream world of sorts between the realms of the living and the dead. It exists as a bubble, not fully in either place, but touched by both. No one knows why these worlds appear, whether it be from the force of the Bond or a boon from some long forgotten god, but they do so whenever they are needed. Obviously, one is needed now or you would not be here," the book went on as Harry paused for breath. He looked at Fleur and realized she was listening to him rather than watching the book. He blushed a little and went on with the reading, though he stumbled over more words than he really should have.

"Here, you will be met by your Mentors. Your Mentors will be drawn to you after you have been here for a while. Your chosen Mentor is often someone closely matched to your personality or ancestry. Without fail, the task of Mentor is filled by a Bonded couple who have passed into the realm of death. Do not fear them, for they will help you to learn more about what you are and how you are joined. However, you must remember that all Bonded couples are different, and that your Mentors have only their own experiences and those of their Mentors to draw upon. You may ask questions by writing them here and if this book knows the answers, it will respond," Harry finished as the last words came into being on the page.

"Mentors... I wonder who we will get," he muttered to himself. Fleur took his hand gently with her left hand as she lifted the quill from the podium and penned a question about how they would find food. The book responded that food was unnecessary in this place, though they could will it to appear if they desired to eat.

They asked a few more questions and found that this place they were in was like one big Room of Requirement. If they wanted something, they simply had to think about it hard enough and walk to a place where it could reasonably appear. Fleur tested this out by walking to their bedroom and coming back with a bowl of fresh strawberries. She ate one and Harry almost passed out as his bloodflow did something he was quite unaccustomed to. As the book was queried, it indicated that they would, in fact, be experiencing emotional instability for a while, particularly when the emotions were toward each other. It was a side effect of the Bond.

The spent a while playing with the book, asking every question they could think of and getting more than a few interesting answers. Insofar as the authors of the book had known, their purpose in the dream world until their Mentors arrived was for them to grow comfortable with each other. When they'd finished with the book, they relaxed in the common room for a while, seated awkwardly far apart on one of the couches and chatted nervously about themselves.

Eventually, they grew weary and retired for the night, each a little embarrassed at sharing a room, but still quite happy with the arrangements.

... BREAK ...

The next week in the dream world passed in a happy blur. The young Bonded couple explored in the castle, frolicked on the grounds, and generally got to know each other mentally. The two of them spent countless small touches and chaste kisses, though neither of them seemed to have the inclination or courage to go farther than that. They talked about their childhoods, though Harry took a long time to open up about his; their current lives; and their hopes for the future. Naturally, now, those hopes all included each other, a fact which contained an odd mix of certainty and uncertainty for both of them.

The language barrier, which was virtually non-existent even before they entered the dream world, completely dissolved as the force of the Bond connecting them grew. With a little bit of time, Harry realized that Fleur's English had become every bit as good as his, though she still called him 'Arry. He rather liked the way she said it in her deep voice and made no move to correct her. His learning of French was every bit as painless as the perfection of her English and took all of three days. Now, they could communicate in either of their native languages, but more importantly, Harry found that whispering into Fleur's ear in French would make her blush a bright red that he quite enjoyed.

For all that Fleur was a beautiful half-Veela, Harry found that she was quite inexperienced in some things. She admitted to kissing more than a few boys, but protested that it had never been more than that. This surprised Harry a little, and he failed to think before blurting out, "I thought Veela had... well, a reputation."

Fleur snorted, though she was blushing brightly as well, "I know of the reputation. It is the cause of most of my teenage problems," she finished with a mutter, though she was not angry. "I have told you of the legend of the Bond, yes? Well, there are two parts to that legend. If a part-Veela kisses a man, and they are meant to be together in a Bond, then they will know immediately. However, forging the bond requires that the part-Veela be... well, that she is a virgin. If she is not, then she will know that she could have had the Bond, feel its power, but know that it can never be hers. There are legends that say that such a partial Bond can only lead to insanity and death."

Fleur stopped talking for a minute and held Harry's hand tightly. "That is why I we will be learning such things together, in time. Part-Veela have a reputation because we kiss many men, but we are very faithful once we have settled on a mate. To stray might, however unlikely, be fatal to us."

Harry kissed Fleur gently on her forehead. "I can handle that," he admitted with a blush. "I kind of like that we'll be in it together."

After that, things became even more relaxed between the two of them. Harry was no longer feeling quite so intimidated with Fleur's prior experience and his lack thereof, and she appeared to respect the fact that he was not pushing her. Of course, not all good things could continue. That's not to say that one good thing couldn't segue into another good thing, though.

... BREAK ...

"Excuse me, I hope I'm not interrupting something," said a deep voice, causing the two of them to break apart from a heated but still quite innocent kiss while sitting on the professor's table in the Great Hall. Harry fumbled for his wand while Fleur conjured up a small but deadly ball of Veela fire. Neither had been expecting a guest, though given the warnings of the book, they probably should have.

The hooded figure took a look at their fumbling preparation for attack and laughed loudly. Though Harry had had a number of bad experiences involving maniacal laughter, this laugh was warm and friendly, and put him at his ease. He lowered his wand, though he did keep his eyes on the stranger. Fleur still looked ready to remove his eyebrows at a moment's notice, though whether that was from embarrassment or because she'd been enjoying what he interrupted, Harry didn't know.

After a moment, the laughter ended and the man said, "Didn't you guys find the book? It should have warned you that you'd have Mentors coming."

Harry nodded, "We found it, but we were... umm... a little distracted," he finished lamely, blushing again. He put his wand away, though within easy reach should he need it again.

"I'd say," he said as he pushed his hood back, revealing a long mane of jet black hair and dazzling green eyes. He was a tall man, taller than Fleur by a full head, and broad at the shoulders. Had he not been smiling so brightly, he might have looked imposing. "Of course, I'm one to talk. I'm sure my Mentor had to bang on our door for half an hour before we acknowledged him," he finished with a knowing grin.

Harry decided to take the lead. The book had indicated that the Mentors would come to them, so he had no reason not to trust this man. "I'm Harry James Potter," Harry said, stepping forward and offering his hand which the stranger took to give a firm shake.

By that point, Fleur had regained her composure, let her ball of fire vanish, and offered the stranger a slight curtsey. "Fleur Marie Delacour," she introduced, though her tone was not as warm as Harry's.

Harry leaned close to her and said in a soft voice, not really caring if he was overheard, "I didn't know your name was Marie."

For some reason, this caused the visitor to laugh once more and when he finally calmed down, he gave them both a bow and declared, "And I am Jovan Arcturas Gryffindor, fourth son of Godric and," he gave Harry a warm smile and looked him deep in the eye, "Your distant ancestor."

It really wasn't very manly of Harry to faint at that point, but he did it anyway.

... BREAK ...

When Harry awoke, the group had retired to the Gryffindor common room and Fleur was running her hands through his hair as he rested with his head in her lap.

"...the one who woke me up and warned me about the trap on the Cup!" she was exclaiming as Harry slowly drifted into consciousness.

Jovan chuckled and nodded, his eyes sparkling with barely concealed mirth. "I saw a chance to make two people very happy and avoid some nasty things which might have happened, so I took it. I wasn't really supposed to do that... but I take it that you two have no complaints?"

"But why... how did you know that was going to happen?" she asked, her fingers resuming their hypnotic movements. Harry stayed quiet, content to be stroked and to listen in on the conversation.

"When you are dead, you tend to have a lot of time on your hands. I've spent a great deal of it over the last eight hundred years looking in on my descendants and, well, I only have Harry here left, so I got to watch him pretty closely. Dead people build up energy of a sort, too, and we can sometimes communicate with the living for short bursts if we don't mind depleting it. To be honest, most of the dearly departed hoard it and hoard it until there's no reason to spend it, which is why you don't hear more dead people talking to the living. I decided that keeping the last of my bloodline alive a bit longer was well worth the effort," he said and chuckled again.

Harry decided that revealing himself to be awake was a prudent and shifted, sliding up beside Fleur. He was a little disappointed when the rubbing stopped, but he contented himself with looping an arm lightly around her shoulders. "Thank you for that. I don't... well, there's a lot that I might not have right now if it wasn't for that," he said with a blush, though Fleur tilted her head over to rest against his affectionately. "How is it that you're here? For that matter, where is 'here', anyway? We read the book, but... well, I mean..."

Jovan laughed again. "I told you my name was Jovan Arcturas Gryffindor, and that is the truth. What I didn't tell you is that I, like you, entered into a Bond with a part-Veela. Her name is Gadralla and she'll be along in a bit. We thought it best that I be the one to make the introductions and all that," he said, digressing a little from the topic at hand. "Anyway, this is a half-place between the worlds of the living and the dead. It's created when you enter into the Bond and will last as long as it needs to for the Bond to cement itself. The one between Gadralla and I held together for about thirty months. Thirty months to our perceptions, that is. When we left that place, we found that only twelve weeks had passed in the real world. The Bonded who were our mentors said their world lasted almost fourty months and reality advanced only six weeks, so it varies somewhat"

"This place is accessible to other Bonded who are compatible with the two of you in some way. We're able to come and go from this place in order to guide you and teach you what you might need to learn before you go back to the real world. We benefit from those nifty translations features of this place, as well, which is why I haven't used the word "forsooth" once today. When the two of you pass on to the next life, you will likely be able to enter places like this and guide new Bonded, if you so desire. Call it a little something to look forward to," he said with a smile.

"Why I, specifically, am here is that I wanted a chance to see my great-great-something grandson," he said with a grin. When Harry's expression didn't change, he leaned forward and said in a stage whisper, "In case you can't tell, that's you, Harry."

Harry blinked several times before he sputtered out the question that had been trying to form itself in his head ever since he'd passed out before. "I'm descended from Godric Gryffindor?"

"Yeah, a little bit. You're probably the last direct descendant, though us Gryffindors have never put too much stock by bloodlines and I've only keep track of my own line of descent, not that of my siblings. There are a couple of squibs in your family tree which would explain why your branch of the family didn't get purged during the reign of one of England's Dark Lords. We Gryffindors have never been that popular with Dark wizards, which hasn't been good for our longevity," he added with his mirthful grin still plastered on his face.

"But, I'm possibly the Heir of Gryffindor?" Harry asked, his eyes wide and unbelieving, which elicited another laugh from Jovan.

"I'd say that 'Heir' is a bit of a strong word. Father never put much stock in blood, unlike a certain scaly bastard I could name. It's not like there's much money left over, either. Most of the Gryffindor wealth and titles have passed quite legally out of the family's control over the centuries. That means that even if there is such a thing as the Heir of Gryffindor, you don't really get a lot from it. I guess it entitles you to Father's sword. You know, the one you pulled out of the Sorting Hat a while back. There might also be a few toys that I left around Hogwarts at one point or another, but that's about it," he finished, a little more downcast than when he'd started.

"Well... it's still nice to know, I guess. The sword won't be doing me much good, though, as I haven't the faintest idea how to use it. I fought that Basilisk using moves I picked up from half a movie I managed to catch on the telly when the Durselys were out shopping," Harry said, a little sheepishly.

Jovan roared his laughter and Fleur gave Harry a quizzical look. "You fought a Basilisk? And you haven't brought this up till now because..."

After that, Harry was forced to relate the events of his second year for his mate in considerable detail. By the time he was done, Gadralla had joined the group. Jovan's mate had the ageless beauty that only a part-Veela could have, though Harry felt that her appearance was nothing when compared to his Fleur. The fact that he considered her to be "his" Fleur didn't even make him blush by that point.

They retired after a while, another bedroom for their mentors having appeared on the same hallway as their own. A little tired, but pleased at more human contact, Harry and Fleur fell asleep in the same bed, though only their hands touched. In the morning, they found that the second bed had vanished and that theirs had doubled in size. It took Harry half an hour to stop blushing about it.

... CHAPTER BREAK ...