Ecstatic Immolation

Ecstatic Immolation

Chapter 4: Homecoming

The warm light cooled in intensity and the world around him settled into a deep, emerald green haze which made his eyes sting. Harry shifted, his body moving sluggishly as though he were underwater, with odd cramps shooting through his limbs. It was unpleasant, but he felt a certainty that he needed to move quickly. He couldn't breathe, he realized, and he began to struggle. In his thrashing, his limbs banged into solid surfaces around him, though he couldn't quite tell where they were. He floated a little in what he now realized must be some sort of liquid and flailed his knees and elbows.

His right fist made contact with something solid and there was a sharp crackling noise which echoed oddly in the fluid around him. The verdant shell cracked open a little, and he could feel the fluid surging out and see blindingly bright light spilling in. He continued to buck and the green walls broke more and more. Suddenly, there was a rushing sound as more of the fluid found an exit and gushed out, twisting his body around as a current formed.

A solid kick from cramping legs knocked away a big piece of the lower section of the dome and the liquid level suddenly plunged below his neck, allowing him to breathe again. His first breath showed him that his lungs were full of liquid and he ended up retching and coughing violently as he expelled the fluid. The stuff was odorless and tasteless, but that didn't make the clearing process much more pleasant as it was still nauseatingly thick. As he shook against the wall, cracks continued to grow without his direct help. In a few seconds, he had fallen through the weakest part of the shell into a world of bright sunlight and rough gravel.

Shaking himself, Harry realized he was covered in a thick, viscous substance that reminded him more than a little of snot. That thought sent him to retching again and soon he felt he had expelled the last of the gunk. His ears managed to pick up the sound of someone panting and he realized it was him. He tried to rise, but his limbs betrayed him, and he flopped helplessly on the sharp gravel.

His weakly groping hand impacted on something soft and after a few seconds of fumbling realized that it was another person. During his fumbling inspection, he managed to find the other person's hand and clutched it. Forcing his eyes to open in the bright light, Harry found that the person resting beside him was Fleur, also covered in the same goo but somehow still looking attractive. How she managed that, Harry would never know.

He was about to say something when a shout from the direction of the castle sang out, followed by running feet. Harry never saw who arrived as the ordeal he'd just been through caught up with him and he passed out.

... BREAK ...

It had been three long, blissful years since Harry had awoken to see the ceiling of the hospital wing at Hogwarts, but all good things must come to an end. He squinted a little as his eyes opened, still feeling sensitive to the light. He glared at the ceiling for a moment as he took mental stock of his situation. He could sense Fleur's presence, somewhere nearby and resting, so he felt safe in letting his thoughts calm before he looked for her.

In a word, he felt exhausted. He'd never thought to ask Jovan and Gadralla the details of what would be happening with his body back in reality, which he now realized might have been a mistake. He felt like someone had just locked him in the broom shed with half a dozen angry bludgers, and then, after that was done; they'd gotten nasty with him.

As the light became more tolerable, he opened his eyes wider and risked looking around. Groaning with effort, he raised his head a little and got a better view of the room. He was definitely in the hospital wing, if the neat row of beds with crisp white linen was any indication. The next bed over held a lump that he was certain of being his fiancé, but the room was otherwise empty.

Harry collapsed back to the bed and whimpered as his neck muscles let him know their displeasure at his last activity. He did his best to ignore them and used his Occlumency skills to order his thoughts and suppress the pain. Even without the mind shielding benefits, that branch of magic was proving to be one of the most vital skills he knew.

It took almost half an hour to get the pain to a level where he could make slow movements without wincing. When he could do that, he took stock of his physical situation. When he'd raised his head before, he'd clearly seen his glasses on the nightstand, so he'd apparently retained his improved eyesight. A quick shake of his head showed the long hair had come along as well, though someone had tied it back. As he looked it over, he found that his body was the same as it had been in their dream world, even down to the increased and toned muscles. That certainly went a long way toward explaining why he felt he'd never used his limbs before. There were large sections of his limbs where that was, quite literally, true.

Working slowly, he managed to relieve a lot of the soreness with a few gentle stretches, though they still hurt him. As he wound down from the brief and very restricted workout, he glanced to the side and noticed that Fleur was smirking at him from her bed, a good five feet away. Harry gave her a low growl and flicked his hand, vanishing the small table between their beds. Another flick of his wrist brought her bed gliding over to his, and one more merged the two together. Even though his body was aching, he was pleased to find his magic eager and willing to comply with his wishes.

Her smirk changed to a feline grin as she slid a few inches into the crook of his arm and slipped her arm around his waist. "I didn't expect to be this sore," she whispered to him, her voice raspy.

He grinned at her and took a light kiss from her lips before snuggling in against her again. As brief as his workout had been, it had still exhausted him. "You're sore? You've barely changed at all. I'm the one who went from a shrimp to a fully grown person. I just hope that this is the worst thing we have to deal with for a bit. I feel like a newborn baby," he rasped with a wince as his throat proved to be just as sore as the rest of him.

She didn't say a word to him, instead choosing to swiftly fall asleep in his arms. He smiled at her and quickly did the same.

... BREAK ...

It was dark when he awoke, but Harry felt like a changed man for the second time in what he assumed was one day. His muscles had stopped hurting and his voice was much better as well. How that change had come about, he wasn't sure, but the rack of empty potion vials beside the bed probably had a lot to do with it. He nuzzled Fleur awake and kissed her for a while before breaking apart.

"I think we'd best go ahead and face the music. We've wasted a day and we're on a pretty tight timetable," he mumbled into her ear. Her hair had been cleaned by someone and tied back out of the way, just as his had been. "Unless you want to christen one of these beds... I think that might be suitable revenge for all those long, lonely nights I've spent in this place."

Fleur's lips pinched, though her eyes continued to smile, as she swatted him on the arm playfully. "No, I don't think so. We have never done that in this world. I would wish for my second first time to be a little more special than that."

Harry's face fell, though his disappointment was mostly adopted in jest. "Don't look at me that way," she said, giving him a stern look. After a few seconds, however, she relented. "Fine, we will someday; but not today."

With that small victory, Harry's face lit up, and he wiggled his eyebrows. Fleur laughed and pushed him away from her as she stretched and wormed her way toward the edge of the bed. As he swung his feet over the opposite side of the bed, Harry noticed a bright red and gold bird perched on one of the beds across the room, watching him with what he would almost swear was amusement. "'Lo Fawkes," he said with a smile and the phoenix responded with a happy cry before launching himself into the air and vanishing in a burst of flame.

"I guess we're going to be seeing the headmaster soon," Harry said in a flat tone. He honestly didn't know how he felt about seeing Dumbledore again after so long. In his youth, the man made a number of decisions which Harry still did not agree with, but he at least understood some of why he'd made them. Now, however, Harry was his own man. He would accept advice, but he would no longer be ordered to do things he did not agree with.

"Can we do something about these?" Fleur asked, waving her hand at their clothes. They were both wearing the scratchy white pajamas that one got in the Hospital Wing and their clothes were missing. Fortunately, their wands were on one of the small tables and Harry reclaimed them and, with a wordless wave, outfitted them both in comfortable Muggle jeans and t-shirts. His was a solid green with a red Gryffindor lion on the front while Fleur's was a deep golden color with the word "Goddess" emblazoned on the front in dark blue.

Fleur looked down at it and smiled at him, though when Harry flicked his hand again and the word "Love" appeared in red above "Goddess", she stuck her tongue out at him and fixed it with her own magic. "Can't leave a nice thing alone, can you?" she asked, though he knew she was just teasing him.

"Truth in advertising, luv. Didn't want to get accused of mislabeling a precious commodity," he said with his best roguish grin. After three years of nearly constant contact, not to mention the powerful magical bond they shared, they could read each other almost instantly. As an afterthought, Fleur conjured up a pair of wrist holsters for their wands and put a weak invisibility enchantment on them. Harry slipped his on and whispered "vanish" in parseltongue at the holster, which caused it and the wand it contained to fade from view though he could still sense the concentration of familiar magic hovering there. Fleur did the same thing, using the parseltounge ability that she had gained from Harry through the bond much as he was able to use the Veela's magic sense.

Though Jovan had indicated that there was a small branch of magic that Slytherin had developed that utilized parseltongue, he had been unable to teach it. Harry wasn't sure he wanted to delve into what was probably a very Dark art and contented himself with using the ability to set difficult to break passwords and speak with conjured serpents.

"Well, we should probably head for his office. I don't fancy sitting on these confounded beds for what I fear will be a painfully long conversation," Harry said, truly serious again. His mate gave him a small nod and took his hand, walking with him to the headmaster's office.

Since he was in no particular hurry, Harry lead them on a rather scenic route though the castle, marveling at how different everything looked when one could see the magical energy around things. An astounding percentage of the castle was enchanted in one way or another, though it was often not obvious what each spell did. The floors, by and large, were layered with durability charms which would explain why the many generations of students had not worn ruts in the hallways over the years. Glass was usually unbreakable, but often had sparkling charms or glare reduction charms added. Just about anything that could have been enchanted had been at one point or another.

Eventually, however, their tour ended and the duo found themselves before the gargoyle. When it did not immediately spring aside, Harry looked to his mate and shrugged. He was in no particular hurry to get on with things so he simply conjured a very plush loveseat and settled in to wait. His mate smiled and did the same, curling up against him.

Fleur dozed off, snuggled into his chest again, while Harry gently stroked her hair and smiled. Dumbledore often kept students waiting outside of his office to put them off, but such tactics couldn't work on Harry. Not anymore. Most likely, however, the Headmaster was simply away on business. It was the summer, after all.

Eventually, the gargoyle turned and the pair of them headed up after vanishing the chair back into the ether from whence it came. They paused at the door just long enough to hold hands and take a deep breath before heading inside.

"Harry, Mademoiselle Delacour, how pleasant to see you. You are looking quite well," the Headmaster said from his seat behind his massive desk. His gaze held its customary twinkle, though it was otherwise unreadable and both of them felt a little more uncomfortable than they had a moment before. "Please, have a seat. Lemon drop?"

They politely declined, as had virtually every other student since he had started the practice, and took up seats in the two chairs before the desk. They were no longer touching, but they were both exercising precise control over their emotions using Occlumency. If it grew dire, of course, they could draw strength from each other through their bond, but that would only work if one of them was able to keep cool.

"How have you been? Madame Delacour has been informed of your revival and will likely be here posthaste. I imagine you're eager to return home," he said, fixing Fleur with his twinkling gaze.

"I would like to see my mother, yes. However, I don't know that I would like to return home just yet..." she trailed off, looking to Harry for support.

"What she means is that we aren't going to allow ourselves to be separated. We are Bonded," Harry provided, knowing full well that Dumbledore had already worked that much out and was just wanting them to confirm it. He respected the Headmaster, but knew that he would often put people through unnecessary steps by holding back information. Speaking of which, Harry continued. "Actually, we would really appreciate it if you could help us make arrangements for a few things and answer a few questions."

"Primarily," he started but paused as he tried to think of how he was going to word his request. "When I was in my first year, I asked you why Voldemort was after me. You said that you couldn't tell me at the time. I know that you had only what was best for me in mind at the time, but, Professor..." he paused again and drew a deep breath, as much from nervousness as a sense of dramatic timing. "I have some large decisions to make soon and I need to know that piece of information."

Dumbledore's face remained as placid as ever as he gazed deep into Harry's eyes. The twinkling effect seemed to increase, but after a few seconds, ever so slowly, it dimmed. "And if I do not feel the time is right for you to know that information, Harry?" he asked, his voice kindly, but with the underlying forcefulness of a man who is not accustomed to being commanded.

"Professor," Harry said, his gaze never wavering as he leaned forward slightly. "I have a fiancé now, one who will be my wife as soon as the law will allow." Dumbledore was a master at hiding surprise, but Harry caught a telltale sign of it, nothing more than a twitch at the corner of one of the old man's eyes. That encouraged Harry and he felt something unperceivable in the room shift, almost as though he was taking control of the situation in a literal fashion. "If I don't know why he is after me... then I cannot allow her to stay in England." Here, Harry paused to allow what he had said to sink in before he let loose with the one threat he knew would get him what he wanted to know. "Of course, I can't allow her to go alone. I shall accompany her to wherever we feel is safest. Right now, I'm afraid that place is not England."

There was a pause and Dumbledore asked in that same quiet but forceful voice, "And what if you were not allowed to leave the country?"

Without missing a beat, Harry replied, "I would probably spend the first few weeks in whatever country I ended up in feeling very bad about what I'd done to get there." The threat in his words was apparent, as was his confidence. It was clear that Harry not only expected to leave if he wanted to, but was perfectly willing to use force to achieve his goals.

Dumbledore looked at Harry for a long moment. He really looked at him, with eyes that twinkled more fiercely than Harry had ever seen before. One minute stretched into two and then three. Finally, when it seemed like the staring would go on forever, the aged headmaster seemed to deflate a little. He sat back in his chair and looked at Harry, the twinkle again at its normal level. "You're not the same young man you were two months ago, are you, Harry?"

"No, sir."

"There is a prophecy," Dumbledore began again, sighing as he said it. "I haven't informed you of it until now, because I did not wish to push too much on to your shoulders at such a young age... Alas, that may have been the folly of an old man. I wanted you to have a normal childhood... Just one year of peace would have eased my mind. I owed your parents that much for the mistakes I made concerning their protection. That prophecy is what placed them so high on Voldemort's list."

As the old man went on, Harry was acutely aware of just how old the headmaster was. He'd always felt grandfatherly, but in truth, he was more of a great-great-great grandfather. If he was telling the truth, which Harry felt that he was, then he had done what he had done out of concern. That softened the blow a little, though it still stung.

"Voldemort only knows half of the prophecy, and even that much was enough for him to seek out your parents, though he would gladly have killed them before that. The prophecy was given shortly before your birth, and it leads me to believe that you will be the one to bring about Voldemort's death. I won't give you the exact wording because Voldemort does not have it, and I fear that he would go to great lengths to steal that knowledge from you. If he were to find out the wording... well, I fear that you would be even more of a target and that he might find a way to circumvent it in order to kill you. Suffice it to say that it is by your hands that he will die, or else the opposite."

Harry took it in and nodded. "I kind of figured," he said, surprising even himself with the honesty of it. "I haven't really had four years of peace and quiet. Even third year saw Peter free to return to the Dark Bastard. Every time he's shown up, I've been right in the middle of things, fighting him or being targeted by him. It makes a lot of sense to hear that it really will come down to the two of us." He could feel Fleur wasn't quite so calm, but did his best to reassure her by touching her hand and giving her a grin. "I guess this means the wedding might have to wait a bit."

Fleur gave him a light slap on the hand and grinned back at him, speaking for the first time since the meeting had really gotten underway. "It will not. Just till it's legal."

Dumbledore watched the exchange with tired, but somewhat relieved eyes, and broke in. "You have changed your mind about... the best area of safety, then? It is imperative that you remain in a safe place as much as possible, Harry. Both of you. Two weeks ago, I saw the mark on a Death Eater's arm flare to life and saw him called to his master. Something has happened, and I fear that Voldemort has found a way to return to a body."

As little as the prophecy shocked him, somehow the resurrection of Voldemort was even easier to accept. "How did he do it?" he asked. Fleur had gasped, but did not say more, instead tightening her grip on her fiancé's hand.

"I believe that the trap at the Tri-Wizard Tournament was intended to bring you to Voldemort and his servants where you could be killed as a part of a dark ritual to bring about his resurrection. I fear that Elphias Doge was the eventual victim selected to take your place since you were unavailable," he said, looking even more deflated than before. Though Harry didn't know the name, he did have an automatic level of sympathy for anyone harmed by Voldemort. "We are reforming our old resistance group as the Minister does not seem inclined to believe that Voldemort is back. As you now know how important you are, I would appreciate it if you would let us assist you in making sure you are safe and well protected at all times."

Harry nodded, his face grim. "We'll let you help us if we feel that it's necessary and you don't try to push us around," he said, not willing to relinquish control over his destiny even in the face of this tragedy. He cracked half a grin and asked, "Anything else insanely evil happen while we were away?"

Even amid such dire news, Dumbledore chuckled a little. "No, just that minor tidbit. Aside from that little thing, nothing."

Even Fleur, as nervous as she was, grinned at the thought of Voldemort's resurrection being a "small" piece of news.

Dumbledore had recovered a little from the earlier revelations and looked more himself. "So, am I to take it that you will be staying in England?"

Harry looked him in the eye again and collected his thoughts. He had already pushed considering the full ramifications of the prophecy into the back of his mind for the time being, but he needed to figure out how he was going to respond. "Well... if he is actively trying to kill me, then I don't think that there's anywhere to flee to, really. I had best stay here and tackle things head-on or I'll find myself on the run from an entire country when he finishes taking over here. Though I may change my mind if that road is made needlessly difficult," he finished, with a forceful tone which let Dumbledore know that all was not forgiven. "There are a number of roadblocks in my way, including our need for advanced tutors or some field experience."

"Speaking of which, that brings me to one of the things you can help us with," Harry said. "We have been in a temporally accelerated pocket for a bit over three years, Professor. I have also discovered that I have something of a birthright that I doubt my father knew about. I am the last descendant of one of the sons of Godric Gryffindor and wish to claim a number of items that my ancestor left here in the school. The only one anyone knows about as of yet is the sword which rests there," he said and inclined his head toward the display case where the Weapon of Gryffindor rested. "The others are in a set of hidden rooms which can only be opened by those of his bloodline."

Professor Dumbledore thought about it for a moment. "Technically, I believe that any relics found on school property are considered property of the school. However, there are always ways around that," he declared. "If you were to, let's say, obtain a number of items sometime later today and never told me from whence they came... I would just have to assume that you came by them legally. If you close back any rooms you might open, and you're the only one who can open them... well then, there's never going to be an argument about it. As for the sword... I had a feeling that it might fall to you. I've never registered it as a recovered artifact. I've always considered it to be yours."

Harry seemed satisfied with the answer as he felt that it was going to be the best he could get. "Alright, then there's the matter of next semester. Fleur didn't get a chance to sit for her NEWTS last year, though I assure you that she's ready to take them. For that matter, I'm ready to take them. Since we refuse to be apart, that means we'll have to come up with a solution. I assure you that if we can't be together at Hogwarts, then we will be together elsewhere."

"Ready to take your NEWTS, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, absently, looking as though realization had finally set in. "I take it you were undergoing training in this temporally accelerated place, then?"

"From the very best, Professor, though I'll admit that we haven't had a whole lot of practical application of what we have learned, aside from mock duels. Still, I'm not really interested in taking OWL classes this year, if I can avoid it. I don't think I'm ready to go off fighting Voldemort or anything, so I'm asking for training, just not the stuff normally taught around here. If we could get some direct tutoring from the professors, I think that would be for the best, and maybe someone to duel us a little," Harry said, feeling quite bold for suggesting it.

"So... you've aged three years, gotten engaged, want to take your NEWTS, and want some advanced training?" Dumbledore said, recounting what was said, his brow furrowed in thought. "On top of Voldemort returning... it seems more has happened in the last two months than in the two years before. Except, of course, for the issue of the diary." Dumbledore fell silent for a few seconds and neither Harry nor Fleur thought it wise to disturb him as he appeared to be thinking.

After a while, he started talking again. "The NEWTs issue is perhaps the easiest to address. Considering Miss Delacour's unique situation, I believe we can get her tested rather soon, if that is your wish. As for you, Harry, the laws governing minors are rather convoluted. I shall have to check into them, but until you have either completed your fifth year of schooling and taken your OWLs or turned sixteen, the way forward may be bared to you. As for the tutoring," he paused again and the look on his face made it clear that he didn't think what he was about to say would be well received.

"There may be some issues if it becomes public knowledge," he said. "When I found out the fate of poor Elphias, I approached the Minister about it. He was rather emphatic that Voldemort could not possibly have returned. I, of course, proceeded to speak to others, including the head of magical law enforcement, but found some people remarkably predisposed not to believe me. A few days later, I found some rather unflattering things being printed about me in the Daily Prophet. There have even been rumblings in the Ministry about taking more control over Hogwarts. Thus, I fear that I am in the limelight and if I am seen giving special treatment... that will only hurt our cause in the long run. I feel that something can be arranged, however, but secrecy is going to be critical."

Harry listened intently to everything that Dumbledore said and nodded at appropriate parts. What he was hearing was worse than he'd hoped but better than he'd feared. "It is very important to us that we are able to be together on a regular basis. If Fleur could be enrolled as a student or you could find her a place on staff, then that would be best. If not... well, I'd really rather one of those things happen. On the training, again I have to say that a regular dueling partner or two are our highest priority. We have both gained a great deal of knowledge and skill, but we've only had the same opponents for the last three years so our experience is a little lacking. If... when we face Voldemort, we're going to need all the edge we can get."

The headmaster spent yet another long moment looking at Harry and seemed to decide something. "Harry, I had thought to shelter you for the next few years, to give you time to mature before thrusting you into a life or death struggle... based on this conversation, alone, I can see that you have already matured as far as necessary. Am I right in believing that you are ready to assume your role in this grand drama?"

Harry nodded slowly, more than a little surprised that Dumbledore was taking him seriously so easily. "I don't believe I have a choice, sir," he said, pointedly showing a little bit of respect to the man that he felt was going to be very important to this effort in the long run. "I don't agree with some of the things you've kept from me over the years, but I can understand why you made some of the decisions you did. I don't like them, but I can at least sympathize with the difficulty of your choices."

Dumbledore nodded, looking a little relieved, though whether if was from the half-forgiveness or the fact that he had assessed Harry's maturity correctly could not be easily determined. "Given that, I feel it would be in the best interest of everyone if the two of you were to join us in the Order of the Phoenix if you would. The Order is the group that your parents joined back during Voldemort's first rise to power in order to combat him. If, as I fear, you will have to attend school this next year, you will have some difficulty attending regular meetings, but I shall endeavor to make sure you are informed of what you need to know about."

"We will join, Professor," Fleur said, stepping into the conversation fully for the first time. "We wish for nothing more than to live simple lives together, but it is obvious that we will not have that luxury until this Dark Lord has been removed. We could go off on our own and stand a small chance of success... or we can take the help that you offer. I do warn you that our trust is a fragile thing. 'Arry is forgiving you much, given what I know of his childhood. I am not so quick to forgive, but I will set aside my misgivings for the sake of everyone."

Dumbledore nodded again, his eyes seeming to take in Fleur for the first time. He studied her in a fashion similar to the way he studied Harry and then nodded. "As fierce as a lioness, Miss Delacour," he said with a soft chuckle. "I see that Harry has made a good match in you. Were he not such an evil man, I might almost feel sorry for Tom should he try to stand in your way."

Suddenly, the old man clapped his hands. "Well, that is enough chatter, for now. We have talked the evening away and I believe that midnight nears. I have a number of things to look into and a number of people to speak with. If you two wish to explore the castle and find a bed for the night, the student dormitories have all had their passwords set to 'Luminos'. Madam Pomfrey has been kind enough floo in from her vacation a few times today to examine the two of you and will meet you in the hospital wing at nine in the morning for your last examination. Miss Delacour, your mother should arrive a little before lunch, as well, if she was able to schedule a trip on the first international portkey from France. I will see you tomorrow afternoon once I have completed my initial investigations. Until then, I bid you both good night."

The two bonded lovers rose and said polite goodbyes before heading out the door and toward Gryffindor tower to find a place to sleep.

... BREAK ...

The next morning, Harry nuzzled his fiancé lightly until she awoke, smiling at him. They'd transfigured a couple of the four poster beds in the boys' dormitory together and settled into that. They shared a brief, chaste kiss because of the presence of morning breath, and went off to separate showers. During the night, a house elf had apparently brought them each a clean set of robes, which they threw on over the Muggle clothes that Harry had created from the hospital pajamas. A quick cleaning charm freshened the transfigured clothes enough to get another full day of wear out of them, which was good considering their relative lack of options.

They spent a few minutes stretching out before tromping down the stairs. Harry led the way over to one of the torch sconces along the wall, conjuring a small needle and pricked his thumb. He smeared a fat droplet of blood across the bottom of the sconce and the metal seemed to drink it up. There was a pause and then a section of wall began to slide back and away to the left. By the time the door had finished opening, the pinprick had already healed and Harry vanished his needle before leading the way into the corridor beyond.

"There isn't any dust," Fleur noted, looking past her mate warily.

"Probably the house elves," Harry replied. "They're good about finding places that need cleaning. I doubt anyone else could have gotten in here since Jovan left."

Fleur nodded, though Harry more sensed it than saw it, and placed a hand on his shoulder as both a comfort and an urging to proceed.

The corridor ahead curved sharply after a few feet and stairs spiraled down. They followed these for a couple of flights only to find themselves faced with a large oak door. The door sprang open even before Harry's hand touched it, revealing to them a large set of rooms beyond.

"Well, Gadralla always struck me as a woman with good taste," Harry muttered, mostly to himself. The rooms were truly well decorated in rich crimson and sparkling gold. Gryffindor lions were used as a motif on much of the room, but there were also sections of diving eagles which both of them knew to be Gadralla's family totem.

"I wish we could live in here," Fleur said soft, her hand squeezing Harry's shoulder. "It's nice and so very private."

Harry turned to grin at her and placed his hand on hers, giving it a squeeze. "We'll find privacy when we can, luv. I don't intend to neglect you."

"You'd better not," she said, slinking closer to him and wrapping him in her arms. "I am, what is the phrase... oh yes, I am high maintenance."

He twisted in her grasp and brought his lips to hers for a kiss. One kiss turned into two and then three, but they broke apart after that. They hadn't come down here to snog, after all.

The main room in which they found themselves was a sitting room. Five doors lead out, and a little exploration revealed two bedrooms, connected to each other by another door between them, a smaller room which looked unused but might have been used as a nursery at one point, a large workroom, and modest study with several shelves of books.

"The stuff we're looking for should be in the workroom," Harry noted, and they concentrated their searching there. The prototype Weapon was easy enough to find, as it was in a rack at the front of the room with an assortment of other weapons with unknown properties. "Wonder what the rest of these are?"

"Probably more prototypes and the like," Fleur said as she nicked her finger with a conjured blade, dripped a little blood on the right gem, and tapped her wand to the gem. The wand vanished into the metal and Fleur sent it to wrap around her wrist as an ornate bracelet. "The two of them really were geniuses... but if they didn't mention it to us, I don't know that I want to go messing with it."

Harry nodded in agreement and they searched the rest of the room for the ring, to no avail. Eventually, they found it on the desk in the study and Harry scooped it up before Fleur could touch it. She reached for it when he didn't immediately hand it over and he just smiled at her and stuffed it into his pocket. She glared at him, but he just smiled and said, "I'm going to put it on your finger properly, luv. Just be patient."

"But what if I don't want to be patient?" she asked, though Harry could read her well enough to know that she would relent.

"Well, you'll have to be in any case," he said gently and stole a quick kiss. "Now, we'd best get to the Hospital Wing before Madam Pomfrey comes looking for us."

... BREAK ...

"I believe, Mr. Potter, that you are either the luckiest or the unluckiest person I have ever met," the matronly mediwitch declared as she performed a diagnostic charm on Harry. Fleur had already had the same treatment, and watched him getting prodded with a faint smirk.

"Maybe I just, ouch," he paused to grunt as he was poked with a wand, but it didn't make his roguish grin falter. "Maybe I just really like you and keep making excuses to visit?"

Madam Pomfrey laughed and continued her work. "You know, if you wish to stop by for a spot of tea, I wouldn't object. It would certainly be a better idea than getting yourself caught up in any more major magical events." She waved her wand a few more times and straightened up. "Well, there you go. You're perfectly healthy. Better than perfect, actually. Whatever happened to you certainly seems to have agreed with you. One hundred and sixty percent increase in muscle mass and a twelve percent increase in height is quite impressive. Not to mention the hair, the eyes... you must tell me your secret some day."

Harry blushed at the catalogue of his changes. "Fresh air and sunshine," he declared, knowing full well that he wasn't going to tell the mediwitch what was really going on. While he was enjoying joking with her, she was still his nemesis in many ways, and who knows what kind of tests she'd want to run if she found out he'd spent the last month and a half in a temporally accelerated dream world.

"I'm certain that's it, Mr. Potter," she replied in a monotone. "Now, off with you two. I believe that Madame Delacour is due to arrive any minute now. She'll probably be walking up from Hogsmeade."

Harry resisted the urge to make another cheeky comment and allowed himself to be seized by his mate who was apparently quite eager to see her mother. Harry kept up with her easily as they headed for the entrance hall, sparing only a little of his thought toward lamenting the fact that he didn't have any family to miss like that. As soon as the thought formed, he realized that he did have Sirius and would really like to see him. That thought was filed away in his big "ask Dumbledore" bin as they rounded the corner and went down the last staircase to the large double doors that served as the primary entrance to the school.

"So... do you think she'll like me?" Harry asked, voicing the thought that had been occupying the rest of his mind for the walk down.

"Of course, 'Arry. I love you, and that should be enough for her," Fleur said so matter-of-factly that Harry had to smile. "Besides, she is part-Veela. If anything, she will be jealous that I found a Bondmate."

"Oh," Harry said, tightening his grip on her hand. "Do you think we should go down to meet her?" he asked, still a little nervous.

Fleur was spared from answering as the door opened and her mother stepped in followed by a short blond girl that Harry immediately recognized as Gabrielle. Madame Delacour paused for only a second before rushing forward to envelope her daughter and future son-in-law in a massive hug. Gabrielle followed, a good deal more reserved, though she offered hugs as well. After a few greetings, the group retreated to Gryffindor tower so that they might speak in peace.

While Madame Delacour was asking Fleur for all of the details of the bonding in rapid-fire French, Harry placed a number of privacy and security charms on the common room and then settled in beside his mate. Fleur and Harry fielded questions from the still-beautiful older Veela as best they could about what had occurred over the last three years and then talk quickly came to the present.

"Fleur, what are you going to do now? When will you be having the wedding?" the older woman asked in French, and Fleur looked at Harry for an answer. Harry was glad that she was taking the subject so well, though it seemed that Bonding and marriage were synonymous to the Veela, so any ceremony was only a formality.

"Madame, I'm not certain what will be happening next. We'd like to have the wedding as soon as possible, but I may still be considered underage. If I'm not... well, as soon as it can be planned would suit me. As for our plans... well, we intend to stay together, whatever happens. There are also certain issues which may require our presence in England for a while," Harry replied in the same language, not feeling confident that he should reveal the role they would have to play in the downfall of Voldemort.

"You are not coming back to France?" she asked, looking at her daughter with obvious disappointment. "What are these issues?"

Fleur looked more than a little guilty as she answered her mother, "Voldemort. He's back and we're destined to be part of the war with him. It's part of being Bonded."

Harry realized that Fleur was trying to tell her mother enough to satisfy her without compromising their safety. He decided to help a little. "What Fleur means is that our bonding was very public, at least for those who understood the signs of it. When he finds out about it, we're probably going to be pretty high on his list of targets just because of what we are. If we don't help with the effort to stop him, then he's likely to build up power. In the short term, we'd be safer away from here, but in the long term, it would be worse."

To Harry's surprise, Fleur's mother simply sighed. "I knew something like this might occur. The legends of the Bonded always speak of the great things that they were involved in." She again rose and hugged first Fleur and then Harry in turn. "I want you two to be as safe as you can. No taking risks if you can avoid it, okay?"

Both of the young adults nodded their heads and Madame Delacour smiled. "Now, we simply must discuss the details of the wedding for a while to clear these negative thoughts away."

Fleur smiled and talk did turn to the wedding. Gabrielle contributed little to the conversation and spent most of her time looking at Harry and Fleur with a mix of happiness and sadness. Harry could understand both emotions as Fleur had told him of her sister's crush on him and the deep bond the two sisters shared. Gabrielle was happy that her sister was happy, but also sad that she was losing her. The talk went on for a while, though, as Fleur tried to describe her ideal wedding. The scale would be small, by necessity, and private, but elegant as well.

Harry listened, though there weren't many things for him to comment on. Instead, he let his thoughts drift to the coming meeting with Dumbledore. If things went well, the old man would earn a lot of trust from Harry. If they didn't... well, it was best not to think about such things.

... CHAPTER BREAK ...