AN: Hey Everybody! I'm baaack! I got hit with a big whopping dose of "What the heck am I doing with my life?" and I switched majors. Then Finals came, then family time over the holidays. I edited the first two chapters and began writing this one. It's finally done, so I hope you enjoy. Updates will not be regular, but I hope you can forgive me. I am an amateur writing his first story…

Disclaimer: I can see how you might be confused about me owning the source material for this fanfiction, given that I am an American college student. But, really. I don't own the fictional world of "England" or the character JK Rowling, who is just that, a character.

*fist bumps Harry Potter*

Harry walked out of Potions on Friday, groaning about the unfairness of life and Double Potions right before the weekend. Snape had assigned as much as he would for his OWL level class, in an effort to "determine which, if any, of you children, have the necessary wit to continue wasting my time with," which Harry thought was one more shred of evidence that Snape was unfit to teach.

Ron and Hermione followed Harry out of the classroom, the redhead looking like he was going into shock, and Hermione with a frustrated frown on her face. They had been partners for the practical portion of the class, and their end result had been vanished by Snape after Ron had put in one too many toad wart shavings. This had resulted in Snape bellowing at the 'ignoramus' and 'buffoon.' Given that Snape rarely raised his voice beyond the menacing tone typically experienced, Ron was understandably shaken. After the harrowing ordeal they had just been through, they were looking forward to the weekend, what little of it they would be able to enjoy. Exempt Harry might be, but that didn't mean he would be exempt next year. He recognized the need to keep up in his classes, and so he kept going back to the dungeons for more mistreatment.

Snape took a deep breath, glad that once again, he had averted a minor catastrophe. The fool Weasley boy had messed up his potion so badly he was actually making something completely different. If he hadn't intervened, Snape knew that the entirety of the class would have been passed out on the floor, soon to fall into a magical coma. Apparently, Weasley had inherited his brothers' penchant for mischief but had apparently missed the conscious control of this ability the twins had.

As they entered the common room, Harry took a deep breath and felt a little bit of the stress he had accumulated over the day begin to slip away. This was his home, and whatever else might happen, Harry knew he could get through the tournament and whatever else the universe threw at him.

Hermione brushed past him, giving him a little glare for blocking the entrance, but Harry only grinned in reply. Huffing, she sat down at one of the tables and began to work on her potions essay, thinking she would start it before heading to dinner. Harry joined her after dropping his bag up in the dorm.

Ron had followed Harry up to their room, but instead of returning with his homework, he had brought down his chess set and attempted to woo several younger years into a match.

After soundly trouncing his third straight opponent, he turned his attention to his friends.

"Why don't you take a break, Harry, and we'll see if you can out maneuver me this time?"

Harry glanced over, remembering the horrible defeats he had had to endure at the whims of Ron's masterful strategies. He also remembered their first year, when Ron had literally outsmarted their head of house at her own game, taking the title of Chess-Master of Hogwarts at the same time.

"I think I'll take a pass this time around."

"… wimp."

Hermione looked up briefly when Ron had initially spoken, and now was completely ignoring her two friends. She had already written a good 8 inches for the 12 inches assigned, compared to his 5 and Ron's 0, so Harry felt she was adequately prepared to go get dinner.

"Alright Hermione, Ron. I am getting hungry, and dinner is in 15 minutes anyways, so I say we start heading down and grab a seat."

Ron nodded, still pouting a little from Harry's refusal of a good game of chess. Hermione had to be told to leave her essay there, it would be waiting for her when she got back. She didn't look happy but accepted her friends' admonishments with dignity.

Harry felt content. After dinner, the trio had returned to the tower where Hermione and Harry finished their essays, while Ron finally started his. He was still complaining that it could wait until later but was convinced once his friends had allowed him to read their work to get an idea what to do. His outline wasn't pretty, but with Hermione as a friend, he wouldn't get any lower than an Acceptable.

All Harry had left to do this weekend was switching spells for Transfiguration, which he was already passingly effective at. Professor Flitwick's assignment on banishing charms was redundant, as Harry had mastered them before even the first task. He would brush up on the wand movements to make sure they were up to the diminutive professor's standards.

Stretching, he reached for the high ceiling of the common room, privately wondering how the house elves managed to clean all the portraits and tapestries decorating the walls from the top to the bottom of the spacious room.

"I'm going to head to bed guys, don't stay up too late."

Hermione waved him off from her position at the table, revising her essay for the third time. Ron barely acknowledged him as he took on two third-years at once in simultaneous chess games.

Brushing his teeth, Harry began to think about tomorrow's plans, both excited for the Hogsmeade trip and curious as to what Fleur wanted to discuss. Harry hopped in bed. Seamus was out, presumably with one of his usual 'friends', Dean was downstairs working still, and Neville was fast asleep. Sighing, Harry drifted off.

Fleur had slept well, encouraged by the positive response Harry had had toward her earlier, and a little nervous about her plan to talk with him later. She was on the way down to Hogsmeade before she even realized the perfect snowfall that had blanketed the landscape. 'I'm more wrapped up in my head than I realized,' Fleur thought, and speeding up a little, caught up to Dian, who was heading the same direction.

"Good morning Dian, how are you?"

Smiling, the French witch responded, "Very well, thank you Fleur. How are you? Do you have any plans today?"

Fleur gave a little smile. "I'm excited to get to the town. I'm meeting a friend for lunch at the Broomsticks."

"Oh? It wouldn't be that Potter boy, would it? You seem to be spending an inordinate amount of time with him lately. You don't like him, do you?" Dian gave a small leer, and Fleur almost blushed.

"No, no, nothing like that. He reminds me of myself when I was younger, and I enjoy his company."

Dropping the lecherous smile, Dian replaced it with a small smirk and nodded at Fleur's words. Fleur and Dian were not particularly close, but being a part veela as well made her at least someone with a sympathetic ear. She knew that when Fleur said the boy reminded her of herself, she meant something far deeper than another person might.

The two young women parted ways when they reached the town, Fleur heading into the shopping district while Dian wandered around the rustic side streets. Reaching Honeydukes, she ducked in while trying to hide her identity with her scarf and hat. She was addicted to sweets, particularly the chocolate they made here, which was one of the few positive surprises she had found in England. French chocolates would always be superior, but in the absence of true bliss, delight works well. She was hiding, however, because she wanted to avoid the stigma chocolate addicts often get. Her veela heritage afforded her some lee-way when it came to watching calories, but she tried to keep up appearances.

Purchasing several bars of chocolate and some interesting sweets Gabby might like, she left the candy shop and looked around for her next stop. She stopped into Scrivenshafts and bought several rolls of parchment for letters, looked in the window of Gladrags, and finally ended up at Madame Puddifoots.

She looked over the tea shop and shuddered. The British standard of romance was sadly lacking.

Walking into Zonko's she noticed several things at once. First, the Weasley twins were grinning at each other, both holding a veritable mountain of prank items. Second, everyone else in the store staring in abject horror at the aforementioned pranksters. Finally, Harry was in the shop, apparently looking for novelty items.

Edging around the store, she made her way to Harry's side and greeted him.

"Hello Harry, do you want to head to lunch soon?"

"Hey Fleur, yeah, sure. I'll buy these and we can head over. I don't want to be anywhere near the twins for the next few hours."

Fleur nodded in agreement. Even among the two visiting schools, the twins had a reputation as pranksters. By the First Task, the Durmstrang ship and Beauxbaton's carriage were just as likely to be inundated with their efforts as the castle.

Harry and Fleur strolled casually toward the Three Broomsticks on the main road, chatting casually about schoolwork and what they thought the Third Task might involve.

Reaching the local tavern, they were assaulted by the warm air, heavy with the smells of a dozen different dishes and flavors, mixing with the aroma of dozens of bodies pressed into the tight restaurant. Fleur noticed a small table off to the side that was unoccupied, but Harry motioned them to head back outside.

"The main room of the Broomsticks is charmed to always have enough room for whoever walks in, but I think we should wait just a little bit and it should calm down in there. We can have our talk before we head back to get some lunch. We don't have to be back up at the castle until dinner, so we have plenty of time."

She nodded, and Harry started walking, leading her out of town and toward a small path leading into the woods a little way. Following him down it, they came to a clearing with a view of an old wooden structure. Upon closer inspection, Fleur noted that there were no doors or windows that were not blocked or boarded up in some way.

"Very scenic." And it was. Despite the poor condition of the building, the background was breathtaking. The Scottish Highlands was in full effect near the school, and the setting for the ramshackle little hut couldn't have been more stunning.

"Not many people come out this far. We should be able to talk in relative peace, and we'll have advance notice if anybody comes by. Now, what did you want to talk about?" Harry seemed curious about what she could want.

She sighed. This was the moment she had been most nervous about this entire morning and even earlier this week. She turned and looked at the beautiful scenery, hoping it would be easier to say it without looking into his eyes. "'Arry, I've noticed you don't seem to have anybody you truly trust. I know how difficult it can be to have a secret that is eating you away inside, and I think you need someone to talk to. I won't presume to say I could be that person, but you do need to trust someone with your issues, or they will continue to trouble you." Taking a deep breath, she turned to face him. He had a look of defensiveness, not something she was aiming for. Hoping to soothe him slightly, she opened her mouth, only to get cut off by Harry.

"That might work for you, but I can't just share all my secrets. People will get hurt, and I don't want the hassle that will come with sharing the crap in my life." Harry was beginning to fidget, legs wanting to move away from the source of discomfort while his fingers searched for something to hold onto tightly.

"I don't mean for you to tell all your secrets, but I can tell you are struggling with something or things. Having someone you can trust would help you." Fleur could tell she may have overstepped her bounds.

"You don't know what I have to deal with, how can you. My issues are my own."

"But I do know. I've been there before; I remember what it was like to not trust anyone. You need to release your burden, or you will never find any peace."

Harry took long strides away from Fleur, toward the shack in the distance. Fleur didn't realize the young man could move that quickly and hurried after him. Coming within a few meters of the tall fence surrounding the old house, Harry stopped, then began pacing in front of the gate. Fleur stood several meters further away, giving him space but staying nearby in a half-formed motion of support. They stayed like this for several minutes, Harry pacing, Fleur trying to stay near without pressuring him.

"I have a godfather," Harry spoke up suddenly, quietly. "He wasn't able to take care of me for a variety of reasons, but I do have a family. Last year, he got out of jail and came to find me. I met him for the first time, right in there." Harry gestured vaguely toward the house. "A mix-up several years ago sent him to prison for a crime he didn't commit. The real culprit ended up being a rat animagus living with a wizarding family for the past 10 years. He escaped and my godfather is still believed guilty. He sends me letters from time to time." Harry fell silent.

Fleur could feel that there was more to the story. He never gave any names, which immediately set off several warnings in her head, but was content to let him talk. It wasn't her place to ask.

Harry turned back to her. Still flushed, though whether from anger or the bitter wind blowing through the moors Fleur didn't know, Harry stared intently into her eyes. She shivered a bit from the pain and judgment in his gaze, as well as the cold Scottish air. Apparently finding her worthy, Harry began to talk again.

"When my godfather showed up, he kidnapped Ron and dragged him and his pet rat through a tunnel leading from the grounds to here. Once in the shack, he waited for Hermione and me to follow. He disarmed us, had us at his mercy. Eventually, I overpowered him only to be rebuffed by one of his friends that in the end helped explain the situation. We caught Pettigrew and were about to hand him in, but coincidence led to him escaping and my godfather having to keep running." Fleur began to piece some of the picture together; a man named Pettigrew, an escaped convict, a man close enough to the Potters to be named godfather. She was by no means stupid, but again, she would respect his desire for secrecy, especially, if as he claimed, his godfather was innocent.

Harry refocused on her. "I don't know if I can trust you with all my secrets, but I trust you enough to share this: my godfather is Sirius Black. He is innocent, but I don't know where he is. Peter Pettigrew is alive and out there somewhere." She felt the silence slowing the air around them. "I don't typically trust someone so readily. I know you understand some of what I've dealt with, and that makes you different enough I guess. I understand what you mean by needing someone to totally trust, but I don't feel ready yet, nor close enough to anyone to fully unload." He took a deep breath. Another. Opening his mouth slightly, he paused, then closed it again.

Fleur decided to jump in. "I trust you as well 'arry. I only brought this up because I could recognize your 'urt, see it like I know my parents saw mine. I just want to make sure you are okay." She stopped herself short, knowing she could natter on for a while if not careful. Casting a tempus charm, she realized she was feeling quite hungry right about now.

"Let's go eat. I'm sure the tavern will be less crowded by now."

Harry nodded, and they began their walk back into town. He took one last look back at the shack behind them, before they entered into the woods, and Fleur wondered what he was thinking of when he did.

Harry felt quite drained. He hadn't expected their talk to be so heavy. Most of the time when a girl asks to go for a walk with a boy by themselves, he hopes that things will get steamy, but in this case, they only got heated.

The pair walked slowly back into town, cooling off and reflecting on their discussion. Harry was unsure how to proceed, still feeling kind of ticked off with his French companion, but also grateful that she cared enough to confront him. He knew Hermione and Ron cared, but he was also very careful not to let his mask fall around them. And he never realized how much he had let it slip around Fleur.

They entered the Three Broomsticks and looked around. The warm air still held the scents of dozens of delicious options, but the noise level had died down to a much more reasonable level. There were now several open tables, but an occupied table in the corner caught Harry's eye. Ron and Hermione were finishing up their meal, and bickering like usual.

Harry led Fleur over to them and pulled out a chair for her. She sat down, smiling as she did so. Harry pulled over a chair and sat next to her. He glanced at his friends, who were still bickering, apparently not noticing the new arrivals.

'While I love them, I just don't think I should burden them with my past. They would probably just go charging off to maim the Dursley's and get in a heap of trouble besides.'

"Ahem," Harry's slight cough caught Hermione's attention, and blushing beet red, she shushed Ron and straightened up slightly.

"How are you Fleur, Harry? Did you have a nice afternoon?" Hermione's precise English accent caused Harry to smile. She never did realize how grown-up she could act sometimes.

"We 'ad a good afternoon, 'ermione. Harry and I were able to settle some things, and as you can see, we both came back without a scratch."

Hermione looked slightly confused at Fleur's mention of any sort of disagreement. Hopefully, she would leave it at confusion, and not ask Harry about it later.

"Alright. How is Gabrielle? Has she recovered from the Second Task? I'm sure that was quite a shock for her." Harry had forgotten to ask after the little blonde. The last time he had seen her she had seemed alright, seeing how she had literally tackled him to the floor, but it didn't hurt to ask.

"She 'as recovered well, thank you for asking. I do not think she will ever forget that day, but she will probably remember it more for being saved by 'Arry Potter than for almost being killed by Merfolk." It was Harry's turn to blush.

"And 'ow are you, Ron? Did you 'ave a good day in 'Ogsmeade?"

The Red-Head blushed now and stammered out an affirmative. It appeared he was still flustered by the beautiful Veela girl, but at least he wasn't tripping over himself and yelling at the top of his lungs. Harry sighed in remembrance of the last semester.

Madam Rosmerta came by and picked up Ron and Hermione's empty plates, taking them back to the kitchen to be washed.

"We should head back to the castle. Ron still has his Potions essay, and I need to talk to Professor McGonagall about an extra-credit assignment. I taught myself switching spells during first year, but there's no need to waste the available class time with something I already know." Hermione explained as she began putting her winter cloak back on.

Ron protested slightly, but he knew it would be better to just go along with the brunette and get his work done tonight.

Fleur and Harry waved as the two walked out the door.

Dumbledore hadn't even noticed Harry's prolonged absence from the castle. He assumed that Harry had followed his typical routine of visiting shops after breakfast, eating lunch at the Broomsticks and come back to the castle.

The Headmaster pulled out his collection of dinosaur toys and began re-enacting a prehistoric battle.

Madam Rosmerta came over with a pair of butterbeers for the two friends. "Would you two like to order?"

"What's the lunch special?" Harry asked the attractive bartender. "We have roast chicken, along with the regular sandwiches and soups."

Harry thought it over and replied, "Let's go with the chicken, and whatever she wants," gesturing to Fleur.

Fleur shook her head. "I'm alright. I 'ad a big breakfast."

"Are you sure? The sandwiches here are really grand." Rosmerta smiled at the teen.

Fleur just shook her head and smiled at the woman, "I'm sure. I would take a small salad if you serve them." Rosmerta nodded and left to get their food.

As they waited for their food to arrive, the two friends continued their previous discussion on what they thought the Third Task would be like.

"I'm honestly hoping they keep to their stated intentions, at least for this last task. The previous two were much more dangerous than they should have been, considering they said they toned it down this go-round," Harry proclaimed. "I don't know if everyone will make it back if they follow the previous idiotic ideas up with another one. I mean, importing not one, not two, but four five-x level creatures into the country shouldn't have been possible, not for a school-level event. And kidnapping four hostages, and putting them underwater in mid-February? And two of the eight people in the water were Veela! The organizers can't be stupid enough to try for a third time to kill us all off."

Fleur nodded but rebutted the young raven-haired teen. "They probably organized all the events prior to the start of the tournament, so changing them would not be possible. But you are absolutely correct about their foolishness. I do not think I will be pursuing any combat careers after I graduate."

Just then, their food arrived, Harry's roast chicken breast still slightly steaming, and Fleur's salad lying innocently in a small wooden bowl. They thanked the serving girl who had brought the food out, and the two began to eat.

Fleur delicately reached over and stole a bite of chicken.

Harry raised an eyebrow but continued to eat.

"So tell me more about your friends, 'Arry. I've only spent a few moments with 'Ermione during and after the second task, and your friend Ron, well, 'e obviously 'as trouble being near my allure."

Harry smiled at the thought of his friends, while Fleur subtly took another bite of chicken.

He launched into the story of how they became friends, first Ron on the train, then Hermione after the Troll incident. He could tell she was very interested when she stopped taking pieces of chicken off his plate.

"Zat is incroyable! 'Ow on Earth did you manage to survive!?" Fleur's French slipped through, her blue eyes wide at the thought of a trio of first years taking on a mountain troll. She reached over and took another piece of chicken.

Harry sighed. At least he had a few bites while she was distracted.

A pair of ginger geniuses had the great idea to alter the back-scratching charms on the Headmaster's chair. After dinner was over, Albus would experience what no man his age ever should: a wedgie of epic proportions.

Harry noticed the lunch crowd had begun turning into the dinner crowd.

"Tempus," Harry muttered. "Hey Fleur, we'd better head back up. We have a little under a half-hour, and it's a good 15-minute walk back to the castle gates."

"I had a good time today, 'Arry. I'm glad we were able to spend some time together today."

Harry grinned. "Me too. Do you think we could meet up sometime next week? I wanted to talk about that enchanting class you mentioned. I'd be willing to show you some offensive magic I've picked up while preparing for the tasks."

Fleur beamed back at him. "I would be grateful. How about we have lunch next Saturday and then go to the library?"

The pair set the time and place and started the walk back to the school. They continued to chit-chat, not really talking about anything, but just relishing the camaraderie they found with each other. They made it through the gates in time, and as they neared the Beauxbaton's carriage, they heard the rusty iron screech as they closed.

Harry and Fleur walked into the Great Hall together but split off to their separate tables. Harry sat down beside Ron, who had been saving a seat for him. "Thanks mate. How was your afternoon?"

Ron looked up from his plate and tried to talk. All that came out was some potatoes and bits of meat. Harry grimaced but was perversely amused at his friend's behavior. "Hold off a moment there Ron. Swallow, then talk. Neville, how about you? Did you make it down to the village?" Harry looked at the boy sitting across the table.

"Uh, my day was good. I spent most of it in greenhouse 5, tending the moly flowers. Nothing exciting, except a stray stalk of venomous tentacula got into the mandrake bed. Professor Sprout and I managed to limit the damage to two plants."

"Do you spend a lot of your free time in the greenhouses?" Ron asked, spraying a bit of greens.

"Sure, it's more comfortable for me than the common room. I do better in the calm plant beds than the bustling common room." Neville blushed a little bit. "My grandma's friends say our gardener has a green thumb, but I am the one to take care of the beds at home. When I'm gone, the house elves just follow the instructions I leave them."

Harry and Ron shared a glance, then kind of shrugged. They knew Neville was more than he appeared, else why would he be in Gryffindor, but the shy boy didn't really come across as a stereotypical Lion.

"So Ron, how was your day?" Harry asked his friend before he could put more food in his mouth.

Ron shrugged. "I went down with you to the village, but after we split up in Zonko's, I lost track of time and ended up meeting Seamus and Dean a little before lunch." Harry felt a little bad that he hadn't spent as much time with Ron this year. "We walked over to Honeyduke's and then Dean needed some wand polish so we stopped by Olivander's. The attendant kind of reminded me of the old man, but younger and even more spacy. Then me and Hermione had lunch, where you saw us, and this afternoon I finished the essay. It's rough, but I should at least get an A with Hermione reviewing it."

Hermione walked up. "Hello Harry, Ron. How was your day Neville?"

Neville summed up his day for her as she squeezed in beside Harry.

"Where were you, Hermione? Dinner started near 20 minutes ago." Harry looked over at Hermione as Ron spoke through his mouthful again. He got mildly sprayed with some peas this time, but they were easy to brush off.

"Oh, I was just in the library. Viktor asked me to help him with a bit of spellwork. He just needed someone to cast Homenum Revelio while he tried the Disillusionment charm. You know Harry, I bet that's how Dumbledore knows who someone is at his office door. He probably merged the spell into his door along with a proximity charm."

Harry gave a small smile. "You have always been the one to figure that kind of stuff out. You're probably right, but I wouldn't have a clue on how to find out. Not that it really matters. He might just be that good."

Ron and Neville both smiled. Neither one was interested in how the Headmaster did what he did. They were just happy not to see it in action very often.

Dumbledore was in quite a bit of pain. A prankster had apparently figured out he had an enchanted back-rub chair, and they had altered the charms to give him a massive wedgie when he stood up after dinner.

He rubbed his rear.

"I hope it will be back to normal tomorrow morning."

The castle was at rest. The majority of its occupants slept peacefully, and those few who were still awake were either on patrol or up late finishing homework. On the grounds, a frigid breeze passed over the surface of the lake, and through the trees of the forest, moving their barren branches in a parody of dancing.

As in the castle, few creatures moved outside, preferring the shelter their homes and burrows provided. One of the few moving animals was a small lark, flitting home after a long day looking for berries and insects.

As the lark nestled into its treetop home, a young raven-haired wizard nestled into his covers. He had been happy with his day, but the emotions he'd experienced had worn him out. A good night's rest would cure him of his weariness, and perhaps bring new enlightenment to the suggestions offered by his new friend.