Chapter 104: The Delacour Manor

Sherlock had always admired Harry for his modesty. Despite having defeated the Dark Lord, Harry had never reveled in his title as the 'Saviour'. Instead, he derived greater pleasure in praising those he deemed worthy. His professor, Sherlock Forester, was one such person.

As Harry spoke, Fleur watched Sherlock closely, assessing him; she was certain she had seen him somewhere before. Then it hit her.

"I remember now!" she exclaimed. "You were mentioned in the Le Cri de la Gargouille! They said you're the first Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts to serve two consecutive years in almost three decades."

The bewildered look on Sherlock's face told her the news was probably as new to him as it was to her. Yet, he understood why such news might be appealing to the wizarding community; after all, compared to the secrets of Hogwarts such as the bewitched Defense Against the Dark Arts post and the hidden Chamber of Secrets, his position did hold a certain allure.

Fleur relaxed visibly now that she had recognized her co-passengers. Even though both were prominent figures in the UK, she was taken aback by their humility. Sherlock was a young yet greatly respected professor at Hogwarts and Harry was considered a miracle child. She could let her guard down a little.

Harry, who had initially been quite taken in by Fleur's allure, found his infatuation fading. Over time, he began seeing her for what she truly was – haughty and dismissive. He found himself wondering why he had been so obsessed with her in the first place.

Sherlock, having observed this transformation, brought up a topic out of the blue.

"Do you possess some Veela blood, Fleur?"

She had no hesitation in responding affirmatively. "My grandmother was a Veela, so that makes me a quarter Veela."

Sherlock nodded in understanding, while Harry's curiosity was piqued.

"What's a Veela?", asked Harry.

Sherlock took a moment before explaining, "Veelas are humans with unique bloodlines. They are known for their unsurpassed beauty from birth and have an alluring charm that can leave their opposite sex enamoured. But remember… ah.. actually nevermind."

He had intended to tell Harry about the transformation Veelas undergo when angry, morphing into Harpies - ghastly bird-like creatures, but thought better of it in Fleur's presence. And so, choosing not to voice that particular detail, he let his words hang in the air.

Harry's newfound knowledge about Veelas left him astounded. "So, does Miss Dracul also carry that kind of enchanting magic?"

Sherlock tapped his head to remind him to be careful about his words; 'enchanting' was not a very nice word.

"Why do you seem to be unaffected by it, professor?" Harry who had been wondering why he had been affected by Fleur's Veela charm, couldn't help but ask Sherlock. Sherlock wasn't sure why he was not affected by Fleur's charm. Maybe it's not as potent as a full Veela's, or maybe it's because Sherlock's own soul is strong enough to resist it, either way, didn't feel anything.

"Because your professor has seen and experienced a lot, which is beyond the reach of little boys like you."

Fleur seemed to dismiss their conversation. She looked as if she remembered something, her face fell, and she appeared to be in a bad mood.

Harry thought it was his fault, he stuttered an apology.

"I'm sorry, Miss Delacour, I didn't mean to..."

"It's not your fault, Harry. I am just upset about losing my wand."

This statement perplexed Sherlock. Why would losing a wand upset her so much? Surely, there were plenty of wand shops where she could acquire a new one? For a wizarding family with deep pockets like the Delacours, as long as they are willing to spend money, they can have different wands every day of the year, without issue.

Perceiving his bewilderment, Fleur provided a reason, "The core of that wand contained a hair from my Veela grandmother."

Sherlock's sympathy shone through his words. "Ahh, I see. That is quite significant indeed. But, I'm afraid if it wasn't recovered immediately, the chances of finding it now are virtually non-existent. Regardless, one shouldn't lose hope."

Harry silently ridiculed Sherlock's words in his mind.

Fleur's mood took a downturn. Hoping to lighten the air, Sherlock diverted his attention towards the soothing French melodies on the radio, while Harry returned to fiddling with his camera.

However, a subtle and sudden grumble caught Sherlock's attention. He looked into the rear-view mirror just in time to see Fleur's shy, embarrassed gaze avoid his.

While Harry was still obliviously studying the zoom function of the camera, Sherlock continued to drive as if nothing had happened, though he took note of the shops on either side of the road. It didn't take long before they stopped beside a roadside diner. Noticing the car parked in front of the diner, Harry looked puzzled.

"What? It wasn't that long ago that we had lunch, Professor, you can't already be hungry again?"

Sherlock gave him a glance.

"Why do you care so much about trivial things? Aren't you happy to be invited for afternoon tea?"

As they got out the car, Sherlock looked at Fleur who was remaining in the back seat, trying to feign normalcy. "Come on, it's my treat."

Fleur, of course, understood that Sherlock's trip to the diner was actually for her. She pressed her lips together, got off the car, and, with a voice just slightly louder than a mosquito's veritably whispered,

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Sherlock had no other intention but to see this poor girl taken care of. Plus, they had at least two more days before they reached Paris, they surely couldn't let her starve, could they?

At the diner, Sherlock and Harry only ordered two desserts while they watched Fleur annihilate a bowl of fish soup. She seemed to enjoy the taste of the soup, though neither Sherlock nor Harry shared the same sentiment.

Once she was done eating, Sherlock lent his wand to her, allowing her to cleanse herself a bit with a cleaning spell, before they continued their journey. They reached Clermont-Ferrand, a central French city, by sunset and found a hotel to rest in for the night. After breakfast the following day, they hit the road again.

By midday, they were on the outskirts of Paris.

Realizing they were nearly home, Fleur's mood noticeably improved. She chatted with Sherlock and Harry during the rest of the journey and even invited them to stay at her house for a few days.

The two of them naturally did not refuse. As Paris was their destination and the end point of their trip, having a local to guide them was naturally preferable than wandering around aimlessly.

As the capital of France, Paris was much more bustling than other cities. Following Fleur's directions, Sherlock drove the car into a small town on the outskirts of Paris where the Delacour family's manor lay secluded in the farthest corner of the town.

Compared to Privet Drive, the Delacour manor was much larger. Clearly, a Muggle repellent charm had also been applied here, any normal person passing would not notice the prominent medieval mansion by the road. Sherlock parked the car outside, and Fleur led them into the Delacour house.

Upon entering the house, they came face to face with a house-elf.

"Miss! You are finally back!" The house-elf was eagerly waiting in the front garden. "The lady has been missing you for days. If you had not returned tonight, she would have set out with the Master to find you."

"There were some setbacks on the way home, Rémi."

Fleur introduced Rémito Sherlock and Harry. "This is our house-elf, Rémi. These two are Sherlock and Harry, who helped get back home. If it wasn't for them, I don't know where I would be right now."

Just as someone heard the commotion and came out of the house. It was another girl with silvery hair, who looked just as delicate and beautiful as Fleur.

"Sister!"

She excitedly ran down the stairs upon seeing Fleur and flung her arms around her. Fleur spun her around.

"I'm back, Gabrielle."

Soon, an elegant and charming woman who resembled Fleur walked out too. She was almost moved to tears when she saw Fleur.

"Weren't you supposed to get a letter of recommendation from Madame Maxime and return right away? Why did you come back only now?"

"I ran into some trouble, Mother." Fleur put down Gabrielle, who was in her arms, but didn't mention her lost wand immediately. Instead, she introduced Sherlock and Harry, "These are Sherlock and Harry. They helped me on the road and I invited them over as they are planning to stay in Paris for a few days."

Sherlock extended a hand to Mrs. Delacour.

"Pleasure to meet you, I am Sherlock Forester, and this is my student Harry Potter, thank you for welcoming us into your home."

Mrs. Delacour thanked them, "Thank you for your help. My daughter can be rather difficult sometimes. I thank you for putting up with her on your journey."

Even the little Gabrielle in the corner politely bowed saying, "Thank you for helping my sister."

The Delacour family was very well-mannered. Apart from Fleur's high airs, everyone else was rather likeable. After inviting Sherlock and Harry into the living room, Mrs. Delacour left to prepare lunch, leaving Fleur and her sister to chat with Sherlock and Harry.