The Man Standing Back

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1 July. Delacourt Manor.

 - How are you, Harry? - Fleur, who had entered the room, looked at me anxiously.

 I waved my bandaged hand at her in return:

 - 'Better than I could be, but worse than I wanted to be. - The girl took a while to comprehend the phrase, which was difficult to translate into another language, but then smiled with relief.

 - I wanted to thank you again for standing up for me, Harry. - Fleur sat down in the chair beside the bed, taking my still intact left hand in her warm little hands. - Ciaran said you'll be back on your feet as good as new by tonight.

 I savoured the caressing warmth of her hands for a few seconds, then found the strength to respond:

 - Yes, an Auror medic is preferable to our Hogwarts Madam Pomfrey," I laughed involuntarily, imagining how the venerable nurse would have locked me in the hospital wing for days. - She wouldn't let me out of her claws so easily.

 - It's the duty of any honourable man to stand up for you, Fleur. - I finally did what I'd wanted to do, bringing her hand to my lips and gently kissing her fragile wrist, feeling her pulse beat beneath the soft skin. Fleur flinched, as if a bolt of energy had slipped between us. - And besides, I had a lot of reasons to do it. - I smiled almost embarrassedly at the girl, not releasing her palm.

 - Mr Potter, only your wounded state prevents me from proceeding with an immediate interrogation to get you to tell me all those reasons. - Fleur, to my great surprise, entered into a verbal game.

 - In any other condition I would be anxious for my fate, fair lady, but my status as a wounded man gives me a faint hope that I will live to see the end of the interrogation. - Fleur, hearing this pompous maxim, laughed.

 - In that case, in gratitude for the rescue, the beautiful lady must reward her faithful knight, - soft warm lips touched my lips, the scent of the woman's body close to mine enveloped me, making me lose my thoughts. The girl's pupils dilated, making her gaze tantalisingly dreamlike, and I sank into those eyes, feeling Fleur's breathing quicken against my skin

A few hours earlier.

 This walk through the magical part of Paris had been especially exciting for me, because it was the first time Fleur and I had been alone together-Gabrielle had gone to stay with her Veela grandmother on a small mountain estate. So now we were sitting at a tiny wooden table in a cosy sidewalk café, practically empty at this hour, eating ice cream. I was furtively eyeing my companion-even though the Weil spell didn't work on me, Fleur was still charming.

 When she caught my gaze, she smiled contentedly, sending another scoop of ice cream into her mouth. My gaze involuntarily stopped on her full smiling lips, slightly stained with the cold treat, and a wild desire to kiss the Frenchwoman ignited inside. Only one seemingly paradoxical thought stopped me. The last time I'd talked to Sirius through the through mirror, I'd jokingly asked him if the restless wizard was going to settle down. My godfather's answer struck me with an incredible hopelessness that I hadn't expected from the ever-jolly Sirius. Sirius said that as long as there was a Dark Lord in England, and the wizard himself was not acquitted of unjust accusations of mass murder, he saw no possibility of linking his fate with a worthy girl.

 - Harry, I'd hate to leave some nice girl a widow in a couple of years if I suddenly meet Voldemort on a crooked path, or if I get caught by bloody Ministry rats. - Sirius was surprisingly serious. - As long as good old England is in such a mess, I don't think I should start a serious relationship.

 My godfather's words stuck with me because they applied to me to an even greater extent. After all, I'm the main target of the resurrected Dark Lord, and no matter how much I want to get out of the game, I won't be able to, so any girl near me will automatically become a hostage to my position.

 It was after that conversation that I became much more cautious about Fleur, though, heaven knows, sometimes I was drawn to her with a terrible force, especially when she was very close to me, as she was now.

 - Hoy-ho, what a beauty, Domenic, look at this. - An inebriated young man in a slightly stained camisole studded with jewels, who had just entered with an equally inebriated friend, stared at Fleur as if struck by lightning. His mate, whose finger bore what I recognised from my teacher training as the heir's ring, roared in agreement, heading for our table.

 The couple's intentions were clearly unfriendly, and I quietly pulled my wand from my sleeve and stood in their way.

 - Gentlemen, you've had too much to drink. It's no good disturbing a noble lady until you've sobered up.

 - Who the hell are you, you little puppy?! - The sharp-eyed fellow who entered first reached out to grab me by the collar, but I sharply pulled his outstretched hand aside. - How do you speak to noble mages, you lowlife?

 Domenic, who'd lost the last of his brakes from the combination of wine vapour and Veil magic, snatched up his wand, casting some kind of dark spell at me. I guess I'm really unlucky, and he's the offspring of an ancient dark family, if he's starting a fight with that kind of magic.

 - Protego Ma-Xima! - The orb that shone around me threw the dark blob away, and I leapt to the side, while the heavy table next to me toppled over, obeying the movement of my wand and covering Fleur, who had jumped up from her seat, from a possible attack.

 The owner of the café, shouting panickedly for the aurors, darted under the counter, and I was forced to spin around for a few seconds, dodging the blows. Finally catching my momentum, I sent an intensified Stun into the first enemy, sending him flying into the far corner. The helpless body broke through the bottom of the huge oak barrel, and sat leaning against it, showered with wine splashing free.

His mate, seeing such disrespect for the noble mage, threw something like a dark ossuary at me, which, had it hit me, would have left me no chance of survival, but I dodged again. Just as the aurors on duty, who had been called in by some random witnesses, began to rush into the café, my opponent caught the slashing spell in his chest and began to fall backwards, blood pouring from his mouth. I watched in horror as the man I'd just struck fell, but I didn't react to the order to drop my wand, so in the next second three Stunners knocked me to the ground. Consciousness went out like a blown out candle in the wind.

 Half an hour after the flushed Fleur had left, Jean-Claude came in and gave me an impenetrable stare.

 - I see Ciaran's lessons are slowly working to your advantage, Mr Potter. - It was hard to tell from the politician's face what his real thoughts were.

 - I came to thank you for standing up for my daughter and stopping those drunken "noble gentlemen" from molesting her.

 - Mr Delacourt, I did what any honest man would have done. - I rose from the bed, wincing at the pain in my broken arm from the fall.

 - The saddest thing, Mr Potter, is that this fight will have far-reaching consequences for all involved... As you know, the aristocratic families of France, like those of Spain, often feud with each other. Naturally, nowadays the Ministry is strictly careful that vendettas do not lead to great bloodshed, but here is a splendid occasion to recall all the old customs. - Delacour frowned. - So you can expect either a formal challenge to a duel from one of these... "gentlemen," or they will try to visit our estate.

 - So keep your wand handy for the next fortnight. For all the disadvantages of this cursed tradition, it does stipulate a clear time limit for retaliation to protect the honour of the family. And that time limit is exactly two weeks. I'll try to find out what the Riordan family has against us, but, you know, anything is possible.

 - So the drunk who got the slashing spell from me was really the Riordan heir, Mr Delacourt? - I grinned involuntarily.

 - He was. He's usually much quieter, I should say, but you were unlucky. He's a pretty strong mage, by the way, though he's still a student, like you. So you just defeated two members of an ancient family without much difficulty, not fully trained, but still. Ciaran, while you lay oblivious, managed to drink a glass of good wine to you, saying that he deserved it as your teacher. - Delacourt smiled as well, but his eyes remained distant, as if the politician was carefully considering something.

 - And one more thing... Since it may be necessary for you to go out into the world, we need to finalise your legend... James, whom I contacted through the through-mirror, has suggested that you call yourself his nephew - his family is not well known in France, since my friend is not a native Frenchman, so there will be no reliable ways for anyone to refute it. The main thing is that a little later you and he need to agree on some points about your supposedly father and mother.

 - So I'll be an aristocrat too, Mr Delacourt? - I raised my eyebrows.

 - You already are, for the Potters are an old and famous family in England, even if, for some reason, you are the last of their number. But after 16 years you will be able to receive the authority of the head of the family, and then... Then your possibilities, and magical power will increase a lot....

 - Possibilities?

 - Exactly. In particular, you have one vote in the Wizengamot and one in the Hogwarts Board of Trustees, which is now under the control of your dearest guardian. However, Headmaster Dumbledore's time will soon come - as soon as Mr Bleck is acquitted, we can work together to unshake that colossus by taking you out from under his tutelage.

 - By the way, how are things going with the Tribunal?

 - Better than I expected. James found a man in the Wizengamot whose father was killed by Dumbledore during the war with Grindewald. It was a very dark story, I must say, in which the great light wizard had shown himself to be in a very bad light. So this aristocrat jumped at the chance to humiliate Dumbledore like a tick.

 - Herr Wilfrid," Delacourt continued, "took from me only the money necessary to 'establish relations with the other members of the Tribunal', but he was prepared to help us for free - humiliating Dumbledore alone would be enough to make him happy. He's asked me to introduce him to the man who gave him this great opportunity for revenge, so you've yet to meet him.

 - I think every time I think how lucky I am to have come to your kind for help, Mr Delacourt. - I shudder to think what would have happened if I had stayed in England without such support.

 - I think you would have made some progress, Mr Potter, but it would have taken you much longer," Delacourt said diplomatically.

 - So Mr Bleak's memories and papers are already in Germany, and soon Dumbledore's disgrace and - with any luck - the loss of his seat as Chairman of the English Wizengamot will only be a matter of time.

2 July 1995 Delacourt Manor.

 Ciaran had this time brought a whole chest from somewhere, filled with dimly shimmering vials of memories.

 - Harry, these are the materials used to teach combat tactics classes at the Auror School, where I appear from time to time. Now that you've shown yourself to be an avid duelist," the auror smiled wryly, "it's time to get into battle tactics.

 - First, let's look at your fight with those Riordan fools last night... By the way, I've fought some of those fools before. In particular, with the head of their family, Marcus Riordan, we once together completely destroyed a now forgotten restaurant in the centre of magical Paris. By the time witnesses called the Aurors, the building was in ruins. But the Aurors couldn't take us either - we had time to scatter to the sides, so my trail was lost at once, and Marcus had time to transgress at the last moment.

 I dumped my memories of the fight in the cafe into the pool of memory, and the auror took a few minutes to study them. When he came out of his memories, he began to analyse them:

 - 'Basically, you moved quite competently, used a minimum of spells, but...' Ciaran raised a finger instructively. - You covered Fleur with the overturned table - that's right. You left the line from which the spells thrown at you could have hit the girl - also true. But any of the remaining tables and chairs could just as easily have been used as a throwing tool. And you'd have to concentrate to hit back such a weighty gift. Especially if you're using direct mental control, which Muggles call telekinesis. That's the first thing. The second, which is generally forgivable, is that you froze, looking at the one who got a Slash to the chest from you. You'd eventually learn to ignore things like blood coming out of your enemy's mouth, but now you froze, and you got the full brunt of it from the Aurors. And thirdly - ideally, when you saw the aurors, you should have considered possible difficulties, and you stayed where you were. All in all - 'above expectations'. - Ciaran clapped me on the shoulder.

 - Now we're going to analyse tactics under different conditions," Auror poured the contents of several more bottles into the Pool of Memory.

 Jean-Claude, who had joined us at the very end of the class, seemed unusually excited.

 - Mr Potter, I have received a reply from Aurelius Cimus. He's expecting you in three days' time at the family castle on the slope of the Cignal de Saint-Pierre, and he sent with his letter a portal that will work on the fifth of July at ten o'clock in the morning. He said that he was expecting a visit from you alone, without attendants, and as much as I would like to be present for your conversation - I would recommend that you accept his terms. There's no telling how the castle's defences will react to an intruder.

 - Thank you, Mr Delacourt.