Chapter 23: Fleur's Gift

Harry stared at the letter without actually looking at it. It was… interesting to read.

Fleur all but admitted that she had taken 'care' of Alex in a more permanent way because it made no sense to let such a loose end go free. In her words, 'It was all for his benefit.' Apparently, Fleur had intended to tell Harry the day following the auction. After she seduced him to view her favorably.

Her being so blunt and unapologetic helped her significantly reduce Harry's anger at what she did. Though he disagreed that Fleur killed Alex in such a gruesome way for his benefit. A simple heart-stopping curse would have done the trick, but the violent nature of Alex's death suggested it was Fleur using this as a chance to take out her anger on the poor wizard. Though what the anger was about, Harry didn't know.

… Also, Harry couldn't help but imagine what 'seducing' meant in this instance. He shook his head to stop thinking about sleeping with the psychotic Veela and thought about what to do about her.

The correct action was to use her while keeping a distance, but he remembered how it felt to be in her presence. How it felt to have constant, unfettered affection showered on him.

Harry couldn't discard that easily. He had no desire to discard that whatsoever.

Plus, there was something she wrote that struck a chord in him.

You held yourself back far too much, my love. While I may not be a professional duelist, I could tell you were playing with the poor thing. You must put down your enemies without giving them a chance to strike back. With my presence, you had nothing to fear. What you did was sensible since we did not know each other, but I hope you will have no reservations in the future.

Harry was conflicted about the lecturing tone, but he couldn't help but think about the duel with Malfoy that would happen in less than an hour. He intended to do his usual with the ponce. The general humiliation to make their housemates laugh, the ease at which he would dispatch him, and finally, the look of confusion at why Malfoy had already lost.

With so many eyes watching, that had been the best course of action in the past. But perhaps it should be different this year.

While the monster, Salazar Slytherin, devised a brutal way to enforce competition in his House, he still restricted spells from causing permanent injuries, but that didn't mean pain couldn't be dealt out.

While specific people in House Slytherin knew what he was capable of doing, the majority assumed he mainly used his connections to stay out of the fray.

Harry folded the letter and placed it gently inside his trunk, the action showing how important he viewed it, and picked up the small box that the letter was wrapped around. Fleur hadn't mentioned what was inside, but he suspected something he would have usually laughed out of his mind.

After all, what girl would propose to a man after a one-day 'relationship?'

The answer was Fleur Delacour. Harry didn't doubt she was capable of that with the almost fanatic look she had in her eyes.

He wondered what he would have said if Fleur was next to him as he opened it. With his apparent weakness to her beauty, there was a real chance he would agree like an absolute fool. The question now was what he would write in a letter in response to-

Harry's lips were parted slightly in shock as he stared at the Arcanium Ring. He could barely believe he was holding it.

With shaky hands, Harry gently held it between his fingers and observed the glowing, microscopic runes that covered every bit of the surface. If there was an example of lost magic, the ring he held was it.

It was unwise to do so without checking for curses, but Harry didn't think twice before sliding it on his ring finger on his right hand, watching as it automatically resized itself and slowly dimmed before becoming unrecognizable from any other regular ring.

Harry could barely believe that Fleur had casually wandered off and returned with something that must have cost well over a million galleons. And just gave it to him without hesitation.

If Fleur was in front of him right now, Harry would get down on his knees and propose, forget about Fleur having to do so. If this was what she was willing for him this early in their 'relationship,' what about after a few months of dating? A few years?

Deep in thought, Harry rubbed the ring slowly with his thumb before resolving to give her a gift just as precious. While he may not have Fleur's level of wealth, he did have access to the Room.

He also resolved to research more on Veela. He had to know why Fleur was so quick to latch onto him, and if it had something to do with her heritage, it would honestly push him to fully accept her. It would remove any doubt of her having ulterior motives, though the ring currently on his finger nearly did that on its own.

Speaking of motives, he still had to find out which girl was the rat, and he had a feeling that asking Fleur again wouldn't go over well.

Harry looked up when someone knocked on the door. He glanced at the clock and was surprised to see that it was almost time for the duel to start and even more surprised that someone had come to get him. It meant that Malfoy wanted to make sure to actually fight him, something that was still shocking to him.

Harry rolled his shoulders as he checked himself in the mirror. He had forgotten he was still wearing the ridiculously expensive robes he had bought for the auction. However, it would make an excellent statement to have Malfoy submit while the ponce wore the school uniform in contrast.

He took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled, feeling his annoyance dissipate. He lifted the corners of his mouth gently, ensuring the smile looked natural and easy. He wouldn't want to appear insincere or inauthentic when putting Malfoy down like an annoyance.

Harry always thought that looking approachable was a powerful tool. Especially when the same smile used to be approachable was also used when ripping a wizard apart. It would keep the shites that targeted him on their guards, wondering when it would be their turn.

Fleur was right. He had been holding back far too much. Malfoy should have never even formed the thought about trying to challenge him. And it was really Harry's fault that he did. His inaction had given Malfoy too much confidence.

Satisfied with his look, Harry turned and opened the door to see Zabini with his hand raised to knock, presumably because he hadn't answered the first time.

"Potter, did you…?"

Harry stopped himself from rolling his eyes, reached into his inner pocket, and pulled out the entrance pass to Mansion Sorcellerie. "Sorry, Zabini. There was a bidding war. I already took out my payment."

Blaise took the pass with a resigned sigh before nodding. As they started to walk to the common room, he said, "Thanks for trying, Potter… You should watch yourself in the duel. Malfoy has changed."

"Is that right?" Harry scoffed, "And what makes you think that?"

"He-" Blaise hesitated, "He says he has a new instructor. And with how the older years are acting, I believe him."

"Zabini," Harry had that practiced smile on his lips as he stopped him from continuing, "Believe me when I say that Malfoy won't be able to look at me without shivering in fear after today. I don't care if the Dark Lord himself is the instructor like he's implying."

Blaise gave Harry a shaky nod before looking away, making Harry congratulate himself for the successful test run.

"Who's taking the pictures today?"

"Some third year," Blaise muttered, "Malfoy wanted more people to have cameras, but you know how the rules are. Both duelists need to agree."

"Tell that third year my permission isn't given."

"Potter?" Blaise blinked in confusion, "You realize that means Malfoy can use almost any spell? The camera's the only proof this duel has happened. It's for your protection too."

"I know."

Harry appreciated the silence that followed.

The whole reason he was able to come up with the idea of his contracts was due to the very basis behind the toxicity of House Slytherin. The system which forced students with disagreements, hatreds, and dissatisfactions with the hierarchy to fight it out. And all of it with secrecy enforced by magic.

Harry assumed the Pactmaker's Grasp was derived from whatever magic Salazar Slytherin left behind in his House.

Due to the secrecy, there had been only one way for there to be proof of the duel taking place if one hadn't witnessed it.

A camera. Though the only one allowed to see the pictures with any real authority was Professor Snape, at least, as far as Harry was aware.

It was a loophole available due to the fact that Salazar Slytherin existed during a time when things such as cameras were unimaginable.

It had become a staple to ensure nothing went too far. The few times a camera hadn't been present, a couple students that were watching cried at what had happened. Something Harry was sure would be repeated tonight.

Zabini split from him as they entered the common room, making Harry hold back a laugh at how quickly he reverted to his overly cautious self when the chance with Greengrass disappeared. Harry was sure Zabini would return to him with another request about her, and he would be glad to help his dear customer.

Telling Fleur to win the Wizard's Seeker was wise now that he knew how much she would do for him. However, when he asked her to buy it, it was laughable that he expected her to let him use it. He had been too drunk on her to think straight.

"Already thinking about backing out, Potter? Or are you thinking wearing decent clothes for once will lessen the blow of losing?"

Harry's soft smile, due to thinking of Fleur, turned amused. "I would have hid in my room if that was true. Wasn't that what you did before the previous duels we had, Malfoy?"

Harry ignored Malfoy's threats and searched for Zabini, nodding when he saw him talking to a younger student holding a camera.

"Let's stop wasting time," Harry cut off Malfoy's spiel, "I'd rather be done with this quickly."

Harry would have said that before one of their duels in the past, giving no signs to Malfoy that anything would be different this time. And more importantly, it made Malfoy storm to the erected stage in a rage, completely missing that the camera wouldn't be in play.

Harry leisurely made his way to the opposite side of the stage and caught Greengrass's eye, but someone else got his attention.

Tracey Davis.

If this was before Harry's trip to Paris, he would have completely missed it. But with his new experience with an infatuated Veela, he recognized something about Davis. She was staring at him with a look that he had become familiar with in the past day. What was it Fleur told him?

She is the one that always stares at you like a fool. Or in her thick accent, "She ees ze one zat always stares at you like a fool."

Fleur was right. Davis did stare at him like a fool. The girl had the same look Fleur possessed when looking at him but at a much lesser intensity.

Harry glanced at Greengrass before putting it out of his mind for the moment. Just because Davis had a liking toward him didn't mean she was the rat. Though with Greengrass as her sister, she was now a top suspect.

"Today's the start, Potter," Draco spat from across the stage, "You've been acting above your station for far too long!"

Harry tapped his chin with a puzzled look before widening his eyes dramatically as if he had figured something out. "That's why it's familiar! Malfoy, didn't you say that exact thing when you embarrassed yourself by calling your little friends for a meeting that night?"

"What did you say…" Harry wondered out loud before exclaiming, "Ah, right! I think you said this would be the start of my nightmare!"

Harry put on his practiced smile when Malfoy turned furiously to the crowd as if he would find out who told him simply by looking.

"Doesn't matter," Draco declared, "The ending will be the same!"

"Yes," Harry agreed calmly, "It will."

The magic enforcing the duel took effect, making Harry and Malfoy straighten up unnaturally in their spots. The verbal exchange ended as they marched to the center and gave each other the slightest of bows, though, unlike Malfoy, Harry didn't have a sneer marring his face.

With the formality done, they strode back to the opposite ends of the stage and pulled out their wands.

The stage pulsed once, making Malfoy tighten the grip on his wand as he stared at Harry's relaxed smile.

Harry watched Malfoy practically announce the first spell he would use with his stance and wand position at the second pulse. It was surprising that Malfoy knew such a borderline spell, but he supposed that with the Dark Lord living in his manor, something had to rub off the idiot.

At the third pulse, Harry watched Malfoy burst into action.

"Periculum Mortis!"

Harry noticed Malfoy's glee as a cloud of black smoke rushed to surround him. It was always a sweet moment when he ended up crushing that emotion.