6 - The Granger Grill

With his head still spinning, Harry returned to the castle just before lunch and plopped himself down in the Great Hall. So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours that he didn't know which way was up. He felt like all of his anchors in life had summarily been uprooted, and now he was drifting.

Their conversation continued for quite some time after he got himself under control, mostly about what Sebastian had uncovered in Harry's records. He was surprised to realize that he had never considered asking about his parents' Will; he knew such things existed, but it never even occurred to him that they might have one. The fact that it was sealed was bothersome to say the least: he would really like to read it, if only to see their words.

That Dumbledore was his financial guardian was also bothersome, especially when Sebastian explained that he probably had a lot more money than he thought. The man was shocked to learn that Harry only knew of his trust vault when apparently there were others. He didn't have the specifics, but it was enough to make Harry even angrier with Dumbledore than he already was.

And then there was the Prophecy, which likely explained it all in some way.

Sebastian had no idea what was in it or what it was about, but recommended that they not bother with it until things settled down. Prophecy was perilous, he'd said, and sometimes just knowing one could change the outcome in negative ways. They would worry about it at some indeterminate point in the future, and he advised Harry to simply go on with his life.

For Harry, who had heard a true Prophecy once before, the result was indecision. Had he listened more closely to Trelawney last year, then perhaps Sirius would be free! Then again, how could he have known? He hadn't even known about Pettigrew at the time, so he might have done something foolish to his own innocent godfather! It drove home the idea that it was dangerous.

Beyond those things, not much was discussed other than an invitation to a family meeting so he could properly be introduced.

The idea of having Sebastian as his guardian was growing on him, but it also made him feel guilty when he thought about the Weasleys. On one hand, they'd been there for him for three plus years now, and he had the odd sense that they should have the right to take him in. But on the other, Sebastian had done one thing that the Weasleys never even tried to do: he got him away from the Dursleys.

That was a huge deal, and the main reason why he agreed so readily. The Weasleys would just have to live with it. It didn't hurt that, to his own considerable surprise, he felt more comfortable with Sebastian than he did with Molly and Arthur. He couldn't yet explain why, but there it was.

"Harry?" interrupted Hermione's voice. He looked up as she neared the table, and her eyes widened when she took in his drawn appearance. "Are you alright?" she asked urgently, quickly taking her seat. "I was worried when you didn't come in last night. Where were you? What happened?"

Harry glanced over and saw Ron coming in, and shook his head. "Later, Hermione," he said, throwing a significant glance in that direction. "We'll talk later, okay?"

Hermione watched him worriedly for a moment, but relented when she understood his message.

He was dismayed by the hoarseness of his voice, but there was little he could do about it. Trying to cover his pensive mood, he turned to dish up, though he knew he wouldn't eat even half of what he took. His stomach felt rather smaller than usual today, which was saying something.

Lunch went by without incident, except that Ron was once again the center of attention with his overly-embellished tales of the Second Task. Harry scowled at him; wasn't this the guy who accused him of lying about putting his name in the Goblet in the first place? It was awfully hypocritical of him!

They returned to the common room after lunch, and when Ron challenged Harry to a game of chess, he begged off for a nap. But rather than go to sleep, he just went upstairs and donned his invisibility cloak. Ten minutes later, after a whispered instruction in her ear, he followed Hermione out of the portrait hole.

"What's going on, Harry?" she asked when they were finally out of earshot of the Fat Lady.

"Not here, Hermione," he said firmly. "This is serious. I don't want it getting around."

Her eyes widened at his tone, and his point was made when they rounded the next corner, only to see several Slytherin students standing against one of the walls. Harry eyed them warily, but otherwise ignored them; he had bigger concerns than whatever they were getting up to. Hermione did not ask again.

He led her down to the lake, and they both found comfortable spots on his favorite rock. He was emotionally exhausted, and he didn't want to go through it all again, but he felt that he had very little choice. He needed her to know, and was in desperate need of her opinion.

And so, for the next ten minutes, he told her in reverse order about the things he learned from Sebastian. She was understandably shocked, but mostly took it in stride. When he mentioned that Sebastian had taken over his guardianship, though, she squealed joyfully.

"Oh, I'm so happy for you!" she burst, wrapping him in a life-threatening hug. "You've wanted to get away from those people for so long!"

"Yeah, I guess so," he said with a faint smile.

Hermione frowned and cocked her head at him. "...but?" she prompted.

"I'm happy, Hermione, don't get me wrong," he sighed. "It's just– I don't know them, really, so I don't know what to expect. And what about the Weasleys?"

She smiled softly at him for the question. "You have to do what you think is right, Harry," she advised him. "The Weasleys care about you, and they'll respect your decision either way. Is that what has you so down?"

"No," he said heavily. "That was the good news. The rest is bloody insane."

Hermione frowned, and Harry proceeded to explain to her what Sebastian said about life debts and veela magic. Then, after extracting a promise not to tell anyone else, he explained what actually happened in the lake. Her eyes widened as she listened, her jaw dropping open. He couldn't fault her for her reaction.

"But– But you're only fourteen, Harry!" she screeched loudly. Then, realizing how far her voice was carrying, she took a quick look around before hissing, "You can't get married! You're too young!"

Harry turned and speared her with a pained look. "Don't you think I know that?" he whispered. "What choice is there, Hermione? What am I supposed to do? Let her die?"

Hermione's mouth snapped shut, and her inner struggle was clearly visible in her eyes. Again, he couldn't blame her: he'd had many of the same thoughts that she was likely having at this very moment. Only difference was, he was the one who had to live with the consequences!

"I'm surprised you believe this," he noted after a moment. "I didn't think you would."

A tear came to her eye, and she looked away. "I saw it in a book on veela," she said sheepishly. "I was looking into them because Ron's been so... so... so infuriating, staring at her like he does!" Suddenly she looked back at him, her eyes filling with horror. "Oh Merlin, Harry, he'll be impossible when he hears about this! No wonder you didn't want to talk earlier!"

Harry's shoulders slumped in defeat, and he drew his knees up to his chest. It was, perhaps, the second biggest problem with the whole thing! Ron's jealousy was a major issue – the Tournament proved that quite admirably – and he had no doubt that it would result in another flare-up. He wasn't ready to deal with it, but he didn't see much of a choice.

"I know," he whispered quietly. "I don't know what to do, Hermione. You know how he is."

Hermione glowered at nothing in particular. "He'll go on about your 'perfect life'," she spat. "Honestly! Sometimes I wonder why we even bother with him!"

"He's not always been like this," he replied morosely.

But he didn't need Hermione's sad, patronizing smile to know that it was a lie. True, Ron had been their friend for years, but all he had to do was look at how Hermione joined the group in the first place to see what kind of person he really was. It because of one of his careless insults, the kind he hurled with wild abandon at anyone he thought was beneath him!

And ultimately, even that boiled down to jealousy! He was jealous of Hermione's intelligence. He was jealous of the people around him who didn't need The Boy Who Lived to make them feel good about themselves. Hell, he was even jealous of the Slytherins for the dark unity of their House! Ron was just plain jealous!

"He has, Harry," she said, echoing his thoughts. "We just didn't want to see it before."

Harry heaved a deep sigh. "So what do I do?" he asked rhetorically. "I can't keep it from him, but I don't want the whole bloody school knowing. Mr. Delacour said he'll deal with the press, but I don't see how."

"I guess you really don't have a choice in this, do you?" she asked plaintively.

Harry shook his head and looked away again. "No," he said bluntly. "She's as good as dead if I don't, and it's not like she set it up or something. Hell, I don't think she even likes me!"

Silence descended, and Harry allowed that thought to percolate. What did Fleur think of him? She had been fairly condescending to him with the exception of those moments after he saved her life, but really, she was that way with everybody! Was that really who she was? Was he going to tie his future to someone who might turn out to be as annoying as Malfoy?

He shuddered at the thought. If that was the case, then it might be better just to commit suicide! Then again, he couldn't see someone like Sebastian raising a daughter that behaved like that, and it confused him greatly. Nothing made any sense!

"I think you should give her a chance," said Hermione after a while, her voice low and thoughtful. "We really don't know her, do we? Maybe she's not as bad as we think."

"Maybe," he sighed. "But you know my luck, Hermione."

Hermione huffed, but didn't deny the charge. "Just talk to her," she advised. "If nothing else, let her know that you won't let her push you around."

Harry snorted at the thought. He was not the most outgoing or self-confident person on the planet, and he was well aware of it, but he was certainly no pushover! If Malfoy couldn't get under his skin after all this time, then Fleur wouldn't either. Still, the idea of being forced to spend his life with someone like that did rankle!

She was no Dark Witch, though, of that much he was certain, and that made all the difference. If she were, then he might have considered declining, but she wasn't. And as much as he hated to admit it, she was trapped just as thoroughly as he was, at least if she wanted to live. And who didn't?

"I guess you're right," he said grudgingly.

Hermione sighed and lifted herself off the rock, smoothing her skirt as she went. "Come on, Harry," she ordered. "Let's go back to the tower, and you can take that nap. You look like you really need it, and we can talk more about this later."

"Yeah," he sighed. "Later."

A/N: Personally, upon rereading this, I think Hermione would have reacted much more strongly. That said, I know you all want to see Harry and Fleur, so I refrained from rewriting it. :-)