Chapter 87: CH 87
Perhaps not,' she admitted. 'The first thing you need to know is that there is no such thing as a part veela. A female child of a veela is a veela. It is a common misconception that we are part-human creatures when in fact we are simply witches with an extra set of inherited abilities.'
'Like parseltongue,' Harry suddenly much more interested.
observed,
'A little more wide-ranging and less reviled,' Fleur amended with a sniff, 'but yes.'
'So where do the veela come from?'
'Eastern Europe has legends that fit our description going back millennia, they can be traced East and down through the Caucus mountains to the earliest such stories in Mesopotamia. There were myths of harpies and fire worship all across the region and the rituals and miracles in ancient scripture there are often familiar to us.' Fleur had not actually answered his question completely, but whether that was because she did not know any more or because she did not want Harry to know any more was a mystery to him.
'You can conjure fire,' Harry realised, remembering the veela at the World Cup. Some of his envy at such a useful ability crept into his tone.
'I am also resistant to it,' Fleur told him. 'Do you want any?' She had leant across the table to procure a bottle of sweet, desert wine. It was also elven.
'No, but thank you.' Harry felt that the two glasses he had already had were probably enough. He was fourteen and, unlike Fleur, not from a wine drinking culture and used to alcohol/
'It's very nice,' Fleur promised. She did not, despite her assurance, offer to share a second time. She began to pour herself a glass, but, midway to tipping the bottle glanced up and caught sight of the nearby wizards who were making eyes at her.
'I hope,' the french witch frowned, 'you will not be insulted if I leave as early as possible.'
'Relieved,' Harry reassured her. He was not going to be offended by Fleur's attempts to avoid having her evening ruined.
'We can returned to the Room of Requirement?' she suggested. Harry raised an eyebrow quizzically. 'I can't go back to the carriage now,' she confessed. 'It would be humiliating and I have no other company I might prefer.'
Her blue eyes were earnest and Harry felt a light spark of warmth at her words. 'I don't see why not,' he agreed.
Katie won't be able to find me there, and nor will Ron, or Dean, or Ginny.
There was a moment's pause as Harry realised just how many people he did not want to see tonight.
I'm avoiding a considerable number of people.
They made their way towards the entrance, striding through the clusters of conversations which parted for Fleur like clouds before a summer sun.
'You're leaving.'
I was so close. 'I am,' Harry replied.
Katie had either been waiting at the only exit, or he had been very unfortunate to choose the one moment she was returning as his point to leave.
'If you're bored, or in want of a partner you can always come dance with me.'
Fleur, who had been slightly ahead of Harry after they split to walk around opposite sides of one of the groups of students, turned back, her eyes ever so slightly narrowed.
'Has Roger Davies abandoned you?' Harry asked, only slightly spitefully.
'Yes,' she admitted, pointing to where the Ravenclaw was dancing with a member of his own year and house. She extended the same hand in his direction. 'Would you like to? Not as a date,' she hurriedly clarified, 'just as friends.'
He was tempted, for an instant he shifted his weight forwards towards her and the warmth she had once shared with him.
I don't need her. I'm stronger now. The little voice asserted its opinion proudly, coldly and correctly.
He relaxed back onto his feet and smiled brightly.
'I'm afraid,' Harry replied, one eye on Fleur's tightening grip on the bottle, 'that I can't.'
'Oh,' Katie realised, following Harry's gaze. 'I guess I would have had to worry after all.' Katie must have assumed that his going with Fleur would have ended just as prematurely as her night with Roger Davies. 'It's ok. I understand.' She gave him a weak, but honest smile. 'I'll find Alicia and Angelina, have a good night, Harry.'
He watched her walk away, very aware that the last chance to be anything more than friends with Katie Bell might have just passed. Surprisingly it did not affect him as much as he had expected.
'What did she want?' Fleur asked archly when he caught up to her.
'To dance,' Harry replied.
'You said no.'
'I had a prior commitment,' Harry explained casually. 'I couldn't abandon her to dance with another girl.' 'How noble of you,' Fleur smiled, her eyes soft as the summer sky.
'I think it would have been a bad idea,' Harry said calmly. A part of him had really wanted to dance with Katie, but that little voice had spoken up and he couldn't seem to ignore it. He hoped it was just his paranoia that made it sound like the younger version of Tom Riddle as the thoughts it offered were often right. It, or he, had known it would be a bad idea to risk getting involved with Katie again. He suspected Fleur might have eviscerated him for leaving her too.
'I think you were right,' she replied. Her tone implied just how much of her wrath Harry's decision had averted.
She would have definitely been angry.
Judging from the way she had been holding herself, and how concerned Harry had been that her grip might break the bottle of sweet, elven wine she had removed from the Great Hall, Fleur Delacour would have been very angry indeed.
Harry let her decide what form the room would take when they reached it. She would only be able to use it for as long as she was here, Harry had another three years of being able to utilise the remarkable magic there.
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