Rumors

(This is Saturday's chapter in advance, I might post another if Phase II has advanced enough for my personal risk tolerance. Guh, Enjoy.)

Magnus woke up at dawn, with all the grace of Abbadon the Despoiler and half the niceness. It took the healing properties of a warm shower, a bowl of granola and a positively unholy amount of coffee to make him somewhat presentable.

Alas, with his cognitive abilities mostly restored he was faced with one of the biggest challenges of his school years.

Outriddeling Riddle was child's play compared to this.

Dealing with Dumbledore? He'd do it ten times while he's asleep.

But this...this was a nightmare.

"I heard a very intriguing story today, Magnus." Professor McGonagall said, her cup of tea still in hand.

By now her study had become a staple of his time in Hogwarts, much like the room of requirement itself. He was confident in his ability to go there with his eyes closed, and could picture the most minute detail with perfect clarity.

The scent of wood, broom polish and high quality tea. The red and gold furniture all around, the extensive library he once had to be physically restrained from consuming, the cat sized hole concealed behind the Gryffindor coloured couch.

"Do tell." Magnus said as he helped himself to some brownies.

"Apparently, you were seen entering a broom closet with the Beauxbatons champion." She said noncommittally, drinking some tea while he dealt with the fallout.

He'd spit out the brownies in shock, but Magnus did not waste brownies, ever. So he downed them like a man in death row, his mind racing as he tried to come up with a way of getting the fuck out of this situation.

Honesty would have to do.

"It wasn't a broom closet, it was an abandoned classroom." He said, pausing when he realized how his words could be interpreted. "We were only talking."

"I don't doubt that." The teacher said with pursed lips, channeling her inner Eddard Stark as she warned him. "I am sure you're aware of how disastrous it would be if these rumors were true, for both you and miss Delacour."

Magnus was about to brush it off, but he figured out he might just get the birds and bees talk for a second time if he did. So he swallowed his pride and nodded, that was not something he wanted to hear from McGonagall.

He knew something like this would've happened eventually, but the news reaching his mentor overnight was beyond all of his expectations.

Everything about Fleur seemed to be that way, beyond his expectations. He was not nearly proud enough to deny the facts when they hit him in the face, he had heavily miscalculated the nature of the Beauxbatons champion.

Her actions were creepy, but perhaps someone else would have seen it for what it was, a curious but awkward teenager making up her mind. Not an axe murderer figuring out if she wanted to eat Eagle that night.

Alas he wasn't someone else, the worse case scenario always seemed to agree with him.

"Now that we've clarified that, I'm happy that you're taking such an interest in our guests, strengthening international relations is the point of this entire tournament and I know of no better than befriending foreign students." She said with a smile, letting the uncomfortable atmosphere leave the room.

"I wouldn't say we are...friends just yet." He said with a shrug. "She's nice to be around, very nice, but I've only talked to her once."

The transfiguration teacher didn't look convinced.

"Magnus, you don't spend six hours talking to an acquaintance." Minerva raised a brow.

"She was telling me about Beauxbaton, I just got curious." The Ravenclaw argued back, but his magic focused obsession hit back in full strength "Then we started talking about charms, and how we could apply a self-sustaining enchantment, she's brilliant with those, and managed to weave an entire warming charm in a pocket watch..."

Talks about his supposed paramour devolved into a lesson in friendship which ended up in the two of them discussing heavily theoretical aspects of runework and its application in modern enchantments.

Soon it was time for lunch, and as he often would when he spent the morning with McGonagall, he escorted her into the great hall and had his meal there.

'At least, I won't have to worry about Dobby Tate nutting in my food to establish dominance.' He thought, resolving to arrange for Kreacher to deliver his meals.

He headed to the Ravenclaw table where he saw the familiar figures of a small blonde with strange ornaments, a brown haired Indian girl with her nose in a book but unfortunately, no silver haired French student.

It was a shame, he wanted to introduce her to his friends, if only to spare him the teasing.

"Oh, you're back Romeo?" Padma smiled when she saw.

"Where's Delacour? Too sore to come with you?" Luna smirked, she smirked...the gall of her, he was almost proud.

"Shut it you two." He rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless.

"Does she like it when you talk dirty?" Luna shot back, almost but not quite flustering him.

The gossip mill was working full time, spinning a web detailing his forbidden romance with a certain seventh year student, the male population was torn between cursing the life out of him or asking him for details, and Dobby had briefly appeared to congratulate him and offer some 'advice' before being dragged away by the other elves.

But all in all, it was a good day.

'Would've been even better if I could tease Fleur about it.' The thought was strange, but not unpleasant.

. . .

Fleur woke up a bit late, and stayed in her bed for as long as humanly possible. It was one of the few good things about being selected as her school's champion, the ability to skip lessons at her leisure.

She was already ahead in her school work, so some degree of leeway was given to her and her indulgent sleep schedule.

The day had started wonderfully, she had sent her family a few letters and was proud to say she made a friend. Sure he was British, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

So it was an even brighter Fleur who left the comfort of her room and way too many pillows, to bravely take on the outside world. She idly wondered whether they'd have lunch together, it was something she hadn't done since her third year at Beauxbatons, doing it again would be welcome.

'I'll be able to show him some proper food.' She thought, scrunching her nose at some of the meals she saw on the table, how a society who ate beans on toast could survive much less thrive was beyond her.

Then came the whispers.

They chattered among themselves, like a cloud of locusts. A few mocking looks, some hushed laughs and a couple snide remarks was all it took.

"Good job Fleur, not even a week here and you already seduced a boy."

"He's a Black too, I almost envy you, they are a very rich family…"

"Seriously Fleur? A brit? That's low, even for you…"

She didn't care about them, they were not worth her time. Their words had hurt at first, and more than once they made her cry herself to sleep in her early years, but now she was much stronger, much better than they ever will be.

But Magnus didn't know about that.

How would he even react with all the rumors about them? Would he leave in disgust? He was the proud type, she knew at least that much, but how would he deal with rumors like these?

Her only comfort was that he knew she did not enthrall him.

Fleur headed back to her room, resolving to see him later, but for now she had to practice some more.

Her room gained a few more burn marks that morning.