34 Chapter 34: The French connection

It was as he feared.

Harry might have an understanding with Rita Skeeter but that doesn't mean she was not free to smear others. Looking at the front page of the special edition of the Daily Prophet, Harry involuntarily let out a groan. No wonder why the entire occupants of the Great Hall were looking at him with pity while throwing glares of dagger at the French Champion.

Save Harry Potter from the vile clutches of the French Veela!

If the heading looked bad then the detailed article was straight out poison. If this article was written in the muggle world, there was a high probability that the Prophet would have gotten sued to kingdom come. Unfortunately, there are no laws that could be used against the Prophet in the British Isles especially considering Fleur's sub-human status. Even if Fleur identifies herself as a quarter-Veela the British Ministry of Magic would refuse to acknowledge her as such. She would still belong to the Veela species. This has been the case for Werewolves so Harry didn't think it'd be any different for Veela.

Fleur could approach the ICW but they tend to overlook incidents like this so long as there is no physical harm involved. Not to mention, the ICW can't exactly lean on an issue that has almost no legal leg to stand on. The ICW can't create laws and impose them on a member nation. Maybe, if the Daily Prophet has distribution in a nation where there are defamation laws things might be a bit different.

This shoddy state of affairs left someone like Fleur at the mercy of public smearing from dirty rags like the Daily Prophet. Maybe the Witches Weekly should hopefully put up a good piece on Fleur not that it bothered Harry much. Neither did he think it mattered much to Fleur either. She is a French witch. He'd be surprised if Fleur was an avid reader of British print media.

Not that it mattered. If Fleur was not familiar with the British print media she was going to be. As Harry learned this academic year, you can ignore the morons but the morons certainly won't ignore you.

"The ministry should look into this Harry. That Veela tart forced you to complete her Task with her Veela powers. Who knows what else she can do with her dark magic?"

Harry pinched the area between his eyes as the walking talking nuisance that was Ron Weasley began airing off his unwanted opinions at the Gryffindor table.

"Don't be an idiot Ron. Veela can't force other people to obey their commands." Hermione argued.

"How do you know huh? I bet Krum and Delacour are in on this dark magic plot against Harry." said Ron.

Harry found resistance was futile so he rolled his eyes and looked to the heavens. The enchanted ceiling of Hogwarts greeted his eyes with bright twinkling stars.

"No help is coming from there." said Katie, who was sitting next to him. "Here, have some chicken."

"Thanks." Harry said, taking the offered dish and scooping a few small pieces into his plate.

"You need anything else Harry?" asked Katie.

"Some peace of mind." Harry gestured covertly at the red-headed demon sitting beside him noisily chewing away like a caveman.

"All out of stock Harry." said Katie, a laugh escaping her lips.

"A club would do." said Harry, hitting the end of his spoon on his thumb demonstrating his intentions clear.

"A silencing charm should do the trick, Harry."

"Oh, yeah!" said Harry, covertly taking his wand into his hand.

'Langlock.'

The sheer will and intent behind the spell made it possible that there was no need for his wand to be pointed at Ron. The spell worked like a charm and Ron's tongue got stuck to the roof of his mouth providing much-needed peace to the table.

"That's a neat trick." Katie hummed in appreciation while Ron choked and heaved holding his throat.

Suddenly a commotion broke out at the Ravenclaw table. The ravens were screaming and trying to hide under their table as the fire began spreading everywhere. Interestingly enough, the table never caught fire. Only the local daily rag was becoming ashes from the orange coloured flames. In the middle of this spreading for stood Fleur Delacour with her palms surging with a raging fire that was progressively turning red.

"Mademoiselle Delacour!"

There was raw power and magic behind the Beauxbaton's Headmistress' words. The chandeliers hanging from the ceiling of the Great Hall swayed and the lights on it flickered by the magical outburst. There was a brief lull inside the Great Hall as Madame Maxime exerted her magical power over the hall.

Even Harry, who prided himself as a sensor of all things magic, was flummoxed how the French Headmistress escaped his radar. The waves of magical energy tickling his senses were enormous and its effect was fortunately strong enough to snuff out the fires.

Harry, like almost everyone else, looked between the French Champion and her Headmistress. It looked like the two were about to go at each other's throats. But, the intense staredown was broken by Fleur who proceeded to walk out of the Great Hall.

"Well, that was interesting." said Katie, after the Great Hall settled down from the drama.

"Yeah, interesting." Harry said, absently looking at the hall's entrance through which Fleur disappeared into.

The next day, the atmosphere in the castle was less hectic but Harry was still hounded by his peers about the events happening under the lake. Since the audience only got to look at the tranquil surface of the Black Lake, every bit of detail that he could divulge was gold for his audience.

Not that he was an enthusiast of sharing the story of what happened under the lake. But, getting the story out would certainly unload all the hounding, especially considering this was a Sunday. There were no classes so Harry found it hard-pressed to evade the questions. So, he found himself in the Gryffindor common room regaling the events under the lake from his point of view.

"...then I was set upon by Merpeople brandishing their tridents and all. I had to use the blasting curse to sweep them aside and rescue Gabrielle Delacour."

Finally, he was finished with the telltale session.

"How did you manage to use your broom in the lake Harry? I was under the impression brooms don't work under water bodies." asked Hermione, who was for once happy to be left alone because of her status as 'something Krum would sorely miss'.

"Oh, that...That's thanks to this beauty." said Harry, fishing out the spellforged runic bracelets used on his broom.

"Oooh!" the twins immediately zeroed in on the bracelet but Hermione was quick with her hands.

She took the bracelet into her hands and started excitedly chattering away throwing out details of runes she could find on the bracelet. While this was happening the story was slowly being spread around with some tweaks here and there. While this was happening, Harry carefully slipped out of the Gryffindor tower. Just as he reached the entrance it swung open with McGonagall on the other side.

"Ah, Mr Potter. Just the person I was looking for. You need to come with me." McGonagall said briskly.

"Am I in some sort of trouble Professor?"

"That depends... Did you do something that might land you in trouble?" McGonagall asked, raising her eyebrow.

"Not that I know of, Professor."

"Then come along. We have a long walk towards the Headmaster's office." said McGonagall before leading the way.

Shrugging his shoulders, Harry followed his Head of House.

When they finally reached the Headmaster's office it was packed with quite a lot of people.

"Harry!"

He was immediately swept into a hug by none other than Sirius.

"Sirius. I thought you were asked to rest your body?"

"I was but when has that stopped me. Besides, I have been out of prison for more than a year now. I have had enough time to rest thanks to you." said Sirius, releasing Harry from the hug, a smile stretching from ear to ear.

"Well, congratulations are in order. I hear you achieved a sweeping victory at the Second Task."

"Something along those lines. You are looking good." said Harry, once taking a close look at Sirius from head to toe. "You have filled out more. The potions seem to be working well."

"You don't know the half of it. This body is running on potions alone. My mother had this house-elf called Kreacher. The little blighter has gone bonkers living alone with my mother. Anything he cooks might be poison for all I know as he hates my guts. So, good food is getting scarce."

"Ahem!" Dumbledore cleared his throat attacking their attention.

"While I'm sure you two would like to catch up, I'm afraid we have pressing matters to attend to." said Dumbledore.

It was then Harry noticed the other group of people inside the Headmaster's office. A family of silver-blondes and blue eyes was standing conspicuously at the corner with Madame Maxime and Fleur. He easily identified the younger sister of Fleur, Gabrielle who was looking at him with a large smile. Then there was a tall man wearing shiny blue robes and an equally royal blue sugarloaf hat with a white feather on top.

Harry would have mocked the whole 18th-century dress code but there was no point compared to the flashy monstrosity covering up Dumbledore, anything was better.

"We have not met Monsieur Potter. I am Jean-Pierre Delacour. Fleur is my daughter." the man introduced himself while offering his hand.

"Glad to meet you Monsieur Delacour. You have a wonderful family." said Harry, shaking hands with Mr Delacour.

"This is my wife Apolline." Mr Delacour introduced him to what Harry would describe as the most beautiful woman in the world. However, he was expecting the natural beauty of a Veela to be a distraction so he had fortified his mind while exchanging greetings with Mr Delacour.

"Glad to meet you Madame Delacour."

"A pleasure, Monsieur Potter."

Harry nodded before turning to face Dumbledore who has yet to move from his seat behind the desk.

"So, am I to assume this has something to do with the Second Task?" Harry asked, looking at the grave faces everyone was making.

"Not exactly about the Second Task per se, Harry. But, your actions in the Second Task and the Daily Prophet article have certainly prompted this meeting." said Dumbledore.

"Mr Potter, after the article about Fleur came up in the Daily Prophet she has received several letters from the British public." Mr Delacour explained.

"Thoze were not letters Monsieur Potter. Zey were Howlerz! Some of zem 'ad poizzon and 'orribble curzzes!" Mrs Delacour claimed, looking ready to burn the miscreants if she could get her hands on them.

"I had nothing to do with any of that." said Harry, looking between the two headmasters and Fleur's family.

"Of that, we have no doubt, Harry. But, that's not why we asked you here." said Dumbledore, looking serene behind his half-moon spectacles.

"They want you to put out a statement in the Prophet refuting the claims of Skeeter. Your words should bring some much-needed respite to Miss Delacour and her family." said Sirius, then suddenly he showed hesitation before adding, "That is, of course, if the claims of the article are false. You don't have to feel pressured to do anything Harry."

"Mr Black!" McGonagall snapped.

"What?" Sirius challenged. "I was not there when this whole thing happened. If Harry was compelled to act as the Prophet seems to suggest then what would you have my godson do? Tell a lie in front of the whole world?"

Harry noticed Dumbledore, Madame Maxime and virtually everyone was going to object to Sirius. He didn't want this problem to create any more fuss. So, he decided to intervene.

"Fleur didn't use her allure. I went into the lake on my own. She had nothing to do with it." said Harry.

"Are you sure?" Sirius asked, concern shining in his eyes.

"Veela allure cannot act like the Imperius Curse, Sirius. It certainly can't make me do something that I really don't want to. Besides, even if Fleur used her allure as the Prophet suggests, I wouldn't become a drooling lovesick fool. I am a..." Harry trailed off as he didn't want the information of his Occlumency training to be out but at the same time he didn't want Fleur to feel any guilt because of her ancestry.

Even if he remained sympathetic to Fleur's plight he was not willing to disclose his secrets in front of Dumbledore. The man already has enough information in his hand. Far too much, in his opinion. So, he switched gears in an instant.

"I can speak Parseltongue. I know how people can be prejudicial and idiotic morons. I had no control over the way I am born but I'm proud of everything that I was and am since my birth. And I don't want anyone else to be discriminated against because of the way they are born. One of my best friends is a half-giant and I'd trust him with my life despite what society would have me believe."

"So, what I'm saying is I'll be happy to do anything to ensure Fleur and, of course, her family are left alone."

"Wonderfully put Harry. It is our differences that make the world a brighter place. Oftentimes, we tend to forget this simple truth." said Dumbledore.

For once, Harry didn't disagree with Dumbledore.

When the meeting in Dumbledore's office concluded, Harry was frankly bored out of his mind. He lost almost an hour constructing the words he was going to use in his response to the Daily Prophet article. He could have used that time to read a book or even just play a game. Then there was the possibility of getting photo shoots and whatnot in the evening. There goes another few minutes of his valuable time.

However, he didn't want to be a jerk and leave without saying anything to Fleur. The French witch may have been dismissive of him from the start but that doesn't mean she deserved the type of insults and attacks by racist morons in the wizarding world.

"Hey, Fleur. Would it be alright if I can talk to you privately?" Harry asked and he immediately got a positive response from the French Champion.

That's how they found themselves near the Greenhouse. Thankfully, there was no one around but Harry still put up a ward to ensure nothing was overheard or they were even seen together.

"I am truly sorry that you had to go through all that. The British wizarding community is too much influenced by Pureblood supremacy. And you need not worry about your allure. It is a part of you just as Parseltongue is a part of me. Do not resent your heritage because of people who refuse to be open-minded." said Harry.

"I zank you 'arry. But, you would not have fallen for my allure, no?" Fleur asked, her eyes held a certain conviction that she knew this for a fact.

Harry then remembered Fleur had once tried to put him under the spell possibly to humiliate him at the Yule Ball.

"Ah, no. I'm a student of the Mind Arts. While I won't claim mastery over Occlumency, I have enough knowledge to withstand a foreign assault on my mind."

"Truly!" Fleur seems taken aback by his response which made Harry a bit confused.

"Yes, truly. How do you think I resisted your allure?" asked Harry curiously.

Fleur didn't answer but instead leaned forward and kissed him full on his lips. Harry, though initially surprised, did indeed actively participate in the kiss. His mind had gone blank and the exploding sensation on his lips and tongue was the only thing that remained. There was also that burning feeling in his heart that pushed and goaded him for more. His self-restraint nearly snapped when Fleur deepened the kiss as her fingers slinked into his hair holding him steady.

In the end, his hands were on Fleur's hips. It was as if a dam was broken inside his mind. A wave of emotions washed over him and every fibre of his being was overwhelmed with passion.

The need for air forced Fleur and Harry apart.

"Do you 'zink I need my allure to attract you 'arry?" Fleur asked coyly.

Harry stared into the mesmerizing pair of blue gems that were Fleur's eyes.

"No, you don't."

And they were kissing again with reckless abandon.