Chapter 033

Harry had taken time to explain to Hermione the symbiotic relationship between witches and wizards and house elves, but she still leapt to the false conclusion they were slaves, as he expected.

Once the earnest debate between the two of them wound down for the moment they were soon joined by Fleur Delacour, the Beauxbatons' champion and - Harry had learned - Veela.

"Monsieur Potier," she said, to gain Harry and Hermione's attention.

Looking up, Harry, pleased to have been interrupted, asked, "Yes, Mademoiselle Delacour?"

She gestured to the seat opposite and asked, "May I?"

"Of course," he immediately replied. "It was rude of me not to have offered you a seat already."

As the Beauxbatons witch stepped over the bench opposite, to then sit daintily thereon, he asked, "What can I do for you, Mademoiselle Delacour?"

"Well," she smirked, "Can you first introduce your friend?" And gestured to a slightly scowling Hermione.

"My apologies," he immediately returned. "Mademoiselle Delacour, this is Miss Hermione Granger." Then turning to Hermione, he said, "Hermione, this is Mademoiselle Fleur Delacour."

Reaching over with her hand held for a woman's handshake, Fleur said, "Please, call me Fleur."

"Hermione," said Hermione, taking the hand and giving it a curt shake. Hermione barely masked her irritation her discussion with Harry was interrupted.

Recognising and used to how other non-Veela witches would sometimes interact with her, Fleur chose to ignore it. "Thank you," she said.

Turning to Harry, she said, "Now, Mister Potier―"

"Harry," Harry firmly interrupted.

"'Arry, then," she said, with a slight nod back. "And, please, call me Fleur."

Harry gave a nod back.

"'Arry, I came to offer you an apologee," she said. "Actually, two apologies."

"Oh?" he warily asked.

"Oui," she replied. "I owe you an apologee from the night your name came out of zee Goblet of Fy-air. I made a... disparaging? - yes, disparaging - remark about 'ow you were just a leetle boy. Zat was both rude of me and uncalled for. For zat, I apologize.

"And, secondlee," she said, cutting Harry off before he could respond. "I also owe you an apologee for today. It was my oreeginal belief zat your way to... acqui-air your egg and complete your task was a direct... beleettling of we ozzer champions. I now know zat was not zee case. For zat, too, I apologize."

Harry heard her out and thought about how to respond before he actually did. The real Harry was not as 'knee-jerk' as the Harry he had been playing until today. And he now had to remember not to be that 'false' Harry he'd been playing for so long as a role.

Eventually, he gave a nod and said, "Both apologies are accepted in the spirit in which they were given, Miss Delacour."

She hesitated a moment, expecting Harry to say more. But, when he didn't, she gave a slight nod and said, "Zank you."

Again, she hesitated before she added, "I hope zat you would now considair me a friend."

"If you wish," he replied.

She again hesitated before she said, "I shall leaf you to your meal." Then rose, stepped back over the bench seat and made her way back to the Ravenclaw table.

Once she'd left hearing range, Hermione quietly said, "You could have invited her to join us, you know."

"I could have, yes," he replied. "However, just because she apologised does not mean I've yet forgiven her for her remarks. Give me at least a day to come to terms with that, alright?"

Hermione nodded and said, "Alright, Harry. Now, about these house elves―"

"Hermione," he firmly cut her off. "Clearly, me explaining the relationship between house elves and wizard kind is not getting through to you. You must either accept what I've told you and drop it, or you adopt your normal modus operandi, go to the library and check out a book or two on the subject. No matter how much you try to convince me that house elves are slaves, you will not succeed; because I know they are not. Therefore, I believe I'm done with this subject."

Though she initially recoiled in shock that Harry had cut her off, she rallied and said, "Alright, Harry. I can do that. And when I learn that house elves are, indeed, slaves?"

With a frustrated sigh, he said, "As I know you will not discover that, your question is moot. Will you drop it when you learn I'm right?"

Sadly, she said, "I don't know."

"Then I'll make it easier for you to understand, Hermione," he firmly said. "I will not allow you to continue to 'brow beat' me about any subject. And that includes about your erroneous opinion on the status of house elves.

"If you harp on about it any more, you will be putting our friendship at risk."

When Hermione appeared shocked by what he said, he continued, "Remember, Hermione; the Harry you thought you knew was only a role I was playing to hide who I truly am. As there is no longer a need to, I will no longer be playing that role. You need to understand and accept that.

"I - that is, the real Harry - likes you when you're not trying to force me to comply with your oft-times unreasonable demands. You need to figure out whether or not you like the real Harry. And you need to come to terms with that if you don't."

Hermione thought hard about that before she quietly, even meekly, asked, "Do you think I'm going to like the real Harry?"

"If you're able to somewhat curb your demands of him; yes," he replied. "It's up to you."

She sighed and gave a nod back. She just hoped the real Harry was someone she really liked. She had no idea what she'd do if he wasn't. She knew Hogwarts would become a lonely existence if she didn't.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

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Also returning home that evening was Molly Weasley. She was brought back by her husband, Arthur.

As soon as they had both stepped through into the living room at The Burrow, the Weasley family home in Ottery St Catchpole, Arthur was straight into asking his wife his own questions.

"Alright, Molly," he began. "First, I'm invoking Head of Family privileges and command."

Molly turned to him in shock. "Arthur?" she worriedly asked.

"I know the gist of what you told the aurors when they interrogated you, this afternoon. But I want the truth out of you, without any dissembling."

When he saw she understood he asked, "Were you on the muggle side of Platform nine and three-quarters at Kings Cross for Ron's first year at Hogwarts waiting for young Harry Potter to arrive?"

"Arthur, what a horrid thing to say," she tried.

"Answer me!" he barked. "Were you on the muggle side of Platform nine and three-quarters that year waiting for young Harry Potter to arrive?"

"Yes," she fearfully exclaimed. "Dumbledore alerted me to how young Harry might not know how to get onto the platform and asked me to keep an eye out for him," she replied, somewhat fearful.

"Has he ever asked you to wait there for any other student?" he demanded.

"No, just young Harry," she immediately replied.

"And that hasn't rung any ward-alarms for you? That he's only ever asked you to assist young Harry?

"No," she replied.

"And why did you break the Statute of Secrecy in the process?" he asked.

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