"This should be a negative, here," Hermione said, tapping one of Harry's calculations. She was right - of course - and Harry sighed and fixed it, then made his way painstakingly through all of the calculations that were dependent on that one and fixed them too.

Hermione continued onto the next sheet of parchment, lifted her quill, then paused, frowned, lowered her quill again, and nodded. She moved onto the third sheet. "Otherwise… I can't see any mistakes, I don't think." Harry might have been a bit insulted by the faint surprise in her voice if he was any less relieved; the third task was only a week and a half away. "Well done, Harr- Oh! Good morning."

Harry caught Fleur's scent at the same time as Hermione obviously spotted and greeted her with a polite but rather frosty smile. Harry scraped his papers together and hid them under the table in his lap.

"'Arry," Fleur said, and acknowledged Hermione only by looking at her, and even then only briefly; Fleur had obviously seen Harry tuck his arithmancy calculations away. "What do you 'ave zhere?"

"Nothing," Harry said. Fleur folded her arms and arched a perfect eyebrow.

A foot nudged Harry's and then the parchment in his hands was carefully, silently tugged away. Hermione shifted slightly in her seat - probably putting her wand away - and gave him a small smile. Doubtless Harry's work was safely secured in her schoolbag now.

"Oh?" Fleur lowered herself onto the bench beside Harry, smirked, as she leaned close to him and slid her hand along the inside of his forearm, over his wrist and then into his empty hand. Her eyebrows twitched into a frown.

"See," Harry said, pulling his hands away from hers and setting them on the table beside his half-eaten breakfast. "Nothing."

Fleur's frown deepened before she seemed to remember they were in public; then she smiled and pinched Harry just above his knee which made him startle so badly he almost fell off the back off the bench. Hermione's lips thinned.

Fleur laughed and plucked a plum from the large fruit bowl in the middle of the table.

"So where are ze ozzers zis morning?" she asked.

"Draco's been and gone - he needed to visit the Owlery- and Ron's having a lie in." He and Harry had been up until the very, very early hours of the morning going through Hogwarts: A History again. They hadn't yet decided whether it was to be kept a secret from Hermione forever, or if they'd tell her eventually (ideally after having messed with her a bit, or in several years time when they could mention it offhand and have it not be a big deal), but for now they both agreed that she wasn't allowed to know. That also meant keeping it a secret from Draco - he'd probably rat them out to her for a laugh - and that significantly restricted the opportunities they'd had to read it.

Two days ago, they'd sneaked down to the Quidditch pitch under the guise of going for a fly and read in the stands for an hour or so, before they'd both become unable to carry on with something as wrong as reading instead of flying.

Fleur sniffed - probably thinking Ron lazy, or disapproving of the Owlery, because she'd doubtless find it noisy, smelly, and dirty - and turned to Hermione.

"What are your plans for tomorrow?" she asked.

Harry thought this was a rather strange thing to ask, but Hermione didn't seem to think so:

"I'm not sure," Hermione said. "Viktor and I are meeting at eleven, but he hasn't said anything else about it."

"And us?" Fleur asked, turning to Harry. "What are our plans?" She tilted her head at him so she was looking at him through her eyelashes, which- well, as with everything, it was a good look for her, but there was something challenging in her scent, like this was a test.

"Well, I imagine we'll meet up for breakfast like normal," Harry said slowly, while he tried to rack his brain for why tomorrow was significant. He risked a look at Hermione, who gave him an exasperatedly despairing look back. If Fleur wasn't there, Harry suspected she'd have said Honestly, Harry, or something similar, but then again, if Fleur wasn't there Hermione would probably just tell him whatever it was that he was supposed to know.

"And zen?" Fleur asked, eyes narrowing.

"And then-" Not for the first time, being an animagus saved him; he heard the word Valentine and everything clicked. "-you- er- have a choice."

"A choice?" Fleur asked, unimpressed and suspicious. Hermione still looked a bit despairing.

"Yeah," Harry said. "I thought you might appreciate the time to keep preparing for the task, so if that's what you want, I'll leave you completely alone. Won't hassle you for the entire day." Fleur's eyes narrowed. "Or," Harry said hastily, realising that was not an option, "we can do what everyone else is doing and- er... head to Hogsmeade." Merlin but he hoped there was a Hogsmeade weekend this weekend; there usually was at this time of year, but Harry'd been spending all his spare time in the Room and so he hadn't really been around many noticeboards, and while he thought he might have heard Seamus say something about it the other day, Seamus hadn't talked about a date. Maybe it had been last weekend? Or maybe it'd be next weekend, right before the task... But Hermione was watching him with amusement now, rather than watching him like he was an embarrassment, so he thought he'd got it right. Fleur did not look particularly enthused by the prospect of a trip to the village, which was sort of fair enough; last time they'd been ambushed by Skeeter and she'd doubtless be hoping to catch them again. Which, while it was good for the whole pretending-to-date story, was not likely to be much fun. "Or there's the third option," Harry heard himself say.

"Oui?" Fleur asked boredly.

"It'd be a surprise though," Harry said. That seemed to get her attention; she seemed suspicious, but Harry could smell her curiosity too.

"Will I like it?" she asked.

"No idea," Harry said honestly; he hadn't even worked out what it was yet.

"Very well," Fleur said, giving him a long look before returning to her plum; she sliced it neatly with a flick of her wand. "Surprise me, zen, 'Arry."

"Is… er… Professor Black in there?" Sirius heard Harry ask. It was bizarre to hear him call Sirius anything other than Padfoot, even if it wasn't to his face. Burbage spun, eyes landing on Sirius who was already getting to his feet. She waved at him and Sirius crossed the staff room.

"Thanks, Charity." Seeing neither Harry or Ron looked particularly stressed or injured, Sirius leaned against the doorframe. "Afternoon, Potter," he said. "Weasley." Ron, who'd guffawed at Potter made a funny face. "What can I do for you?" Ron was silent, and while his hand twitched and he wrinkled his nose, he didn't scratch.

Interesting, Sirius thought, and gave Ron an impressed look. Ron's mouth twitched up.

"You could start with not being a git, Professor," Harry said, grinning.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Potter," Snape said from somewhere behind Sirius, "for insulting a teacher." Harry made an outraged sound but didn't argue outright, which was probably for the best. "Questionable as that teacher's appointment and abilities may be..." Without turning, Sirius lifted his hand and made a rude gesture at Snape.

"Black!" McGonagall said sharply. Sirius grabbed Harry's shoulders, spun him around and steered him out of the doorway and into the corridor.

"Get the door would you, Ron?" Sirius asked, and Ron made another face but once again didn't scratch. He pulled the door shut. "Thanks - have ten points to Gryffindor for being helpful," he added in a louder voice, hoping it carried back to Snape. Ron grinned and lengthened his stride to catch up as they set off down the halls.

"Room?"

"Yeah," Harry said. It was quiet - it always was in the staff room corridor - but Sirius suspected it would be in the rest of the castle too; it was a sunny Friday afternoon. Most of the kids would be outside enjoying what was the warmest day they'd had in a while, and those that weren't were probably in their dormitories stressing or daydreaming about tomorrow's Valentine's day Hogsmeade trip.

"Are you going to the village tomorrow?" Sirius asked.

"No," Harry said, and Sirius looked at him in surprise. "Fleur and I are staying on the grounds."

"Huh," Sirius said, though he wasn't upset about it; on the grounds, Harry would be far better protected, both from any of Voldemort's lot, and from the likes of Skeeter. "Ron?"

"Dunno yet," Ron replied.

"What about you?" Harry asked. "Are you seeing Marlene?"

"No," Sirius said. "I've been roped in to supervise tomorrow." In actuality, he'd volunteered so he'd have something to do other than mope about his office and think about Marlene. He was getting there; it still hurt, still wasn't what he wanted, and he still sometimes caught himself coming up with ridiculously elaborate ways to try to win her back. Most of the time, though, he just missed her, and kept wondering if they'd both had enough space from each other to be able to give friendship a go, or if it was still too soon.

But he was getting there. Sort of. He even had a date tomorrow, though that 'date' was his six month old goddaughter, and he had ulterior motives; for one, he thought it might be nice for Remus and Dora to be able to spend a bit of time together, and for another, he thought it would be particularly funny to wander around with a baby and remind some of the older students that there could be very real consequences to getting carried away on Valentine's day (or any day, really).

"Is she coming for dinner or something, then?" Harry asked. "Can I come by and-"

"No, I think she's working," Sirius said. Harry frowned.

"I feel like I haven't seen her in ages," he said, and Sirius grimaced. Harry could be particularly oblivious about these sorts of things - which was fine with Sirius, who'd made no attempt to enlighten him - but somehow he still had an uncanny ability to talk about the issue anyway; Sirius remembered him doing the same thing when Remus and Dora split before France, and while it had been funny then, it was much less funny now that he was on the receiving end. "I mean, we've written a bit," Harry continued, "but it's not the same."

"We've all been busy," Sirius said, keeping his scent under control so as not to give anything away. Interesting that Marlene hadn't said anything in her letters to Harry though, or perhaps he really was just oblivious.

"S'pose," Harry sighed. "How was the staff meeting? Anything interesting get discussed?" Harry tipped his head back in the direction of the staff room

"Yes, actually," Sirius said. "We had a few staff members from the other schools join us for one of our agenda items. Basically, they wanted to let us teachers know what's going on in the third task."

"They told you?" Ron asked. "Even though…" He pointed between Sirius and Harry.

"They had us swear a minor secrecy oath," Sirius said. Harry looked at him, eyebrows raised and Sirius had to pause for a moment, because Harry was just looking at him, not looking up at him (or not much), and- well, at this rate, he'd be Sirius' height by his birthday. Ron was- Ron was actually already taller, which… Sirius could remember when Ron was short and chubby, barely above Sirius' elbow. When had they got big? Harry cocked his head and Sirius smiled, shook his head.

"An oath?" Harry prompted.

"Sorry, yeah. They made us promise not to directly give you - any of the Champions, really - any clues about the task that might give it away or give you an advantage."

"That's the exact wording?" Harry asked, dubious. Sirius inclined his head and Harry grinned. "Maybe we ought to let them spend a bit of time with Kreacher, teach them a bit about loopholes."

"I don't think Kreacher'd have the patience for Bagman," Sirius said, trying to picture it. "But it doesn't really matter, because even if the loopholes are there, I haven't got any intention of abusing them." Harry looked surprised and then betrayed, but Ron looked thoughtful.

"There's no need," Ron guessed. Sirius arched an eyebrow. "We already know everything we need to know because we're right about the egg's clues - the lake, the merfolk, the hostages, all of it." Sirius inclined his head and Harry's expression cleared, though only for a moment:

"Did they say who-?"

"No," Sirius said, frowning slightly. "McGonagall and Sprout asked, but Sprottle wouldn't say." A look passed between Harry and Ron.

"Do we know who's deciding?" Ron asked.

"No," Sirius said again.

"S'pose there's not much more we can do anyway," Harry said, looking troubled.

It was true enough; the last two weeks in particular, Harry and Ron had been beside each other like they were the victims of a sticking charm gone wrong; never one without the other. He wasn't sure which of them had come up with the idea, and it wasn't like it was a difficult thing for them to pull off given how much time they spent together normally, but it was almost excessive; with the exception of Harry's Arithmancy lessons, and that morning at breakfast, even Sirius hadn't seen them apart; they sat together in lessons, at meals, walked everywhere together, and Ron was here now, even though Harry could easily have come alone. More often than not, Hermione and Draco - and occasionally Ginny - were with them, but even they'd been giving them - Harry in particular - a bit of distance (at least in public) to try to ensure there would be no mistaking any of them for the person Harry'd miss most.

"If they're not convinced by now, they're probably never going to be," Ron agreed.

"I could ditch Fleur and pretend to date you instead," Harry suggested, rather glumly. Ron snorted.

"There's not much I won't do for you, mate, but I reckon even I'd draw the line at snogging." That won a laugh from Harry and Ron grinned. Sirius chuckled at the pair of them. "They'll pick me," Ron said, with more confidence than he probably felt. "They've got to."

"How are the shoes holding up?" Sirius asked, and Ron didn't scratch again.

"They're all right," he said. "We checked last weekend and the gillyweed had all dried out, so Fred and George tweaked the ratios a bit. We checked again last night, and it seems like it's working now."

"So… what - less gillyweed in there, and a bit more water?" Sirius asked.

"Pretty much," Ron said, shrugging, and this time he did scratch. Harry's mouth turned down.

"How much less?"

"Not much," Ron said, with another scratch; it seemed rapid fire questions were harder to fight.

"He's down from twenty four minutes to sixteen minutes," Harry said, clearly not happy about this. Sirius wasn't surprised; there was only so much gillyweed that could be fit into the heel of a shoe while still keeping it inconspicuous. Harry had wanted thirty minutes worth at least; if the task had an hour time limit, then that'd give him half the allotted time to find Ron, and half the allotted time to get them both back to the surface safely.

"It'll be fine," Ron said. "The lake's, what, two hundred feet or so deep…?"

"One hundred and ninety eight," Harry said.

"Even less then," Ron replied easily, and Sirius suspected he knew exactly how deep it was and had exaggerated purely so Harry would correct him. "We know from the Room that we can swim that in less than two minutes, even if we're weighed down with robes and stuff, and way quicker if we're actually dressed for swimming, and if I've got fins from gillyweed."

"If something goes wrong, though-"

"Then we've got fourteen extra minutes to figure it out," Ron said, with patience that made Sirius think they'd had this conversation several times already since the night before. "Plus another thirty seconds or so - s'not like I'll drown the second it wears off. And as a worst case scenario, you could cast a Ventus into my mouth-" Harry looked resigned rather than amused, which made Sirius think they'd tried it and had at least basic success. "-or put the bubblehead charm on me. It won't be perfect, but-"

"I haven't even managed it yet," Harry said.

"That's what we're here for, though, isn't it?" Ron said, nodding at Sirius. Harry sighed.

"I s'pose. So-"

"Ventus charm into your mouth?" Sirius interrupted, looking between the boys.

"It was in one of the books Dudley sent," Harry said, looking a bit shifty. "About diving. It said if your breathing thing-" He gestured as if holding something to his mouth. "-malfunctions and is gushing air, you can still breathe from it, so we thought we'd see if we could do it with a spell. And you can, with Ventus Endura."

"It's just not very pleasant," Ron said. "And you can't see very well-"

"And you can't do anything else with your wand at the same time," Harry said.

"That too."

They walked in silence for a moment, all three of them turning automatically toward a short cut to the seventh floor.

"Muggles and their diving," Sirius said, shaking his head.

"They've been pretty helpful," Harry said. "Wouldn't have made it this far if I'd been relying on wizarding underwater theories."

"They're the same thing," Sirius said.

"Muggles explain it better," Harry replied.

And, maybe he was onto something, Sirius thought, as he sat on one of the Room's couches, flicking idly through a Physics textbook while the boys changed. Harry had, after all, been able to use it to get far further than Vector had said he would, and while it was aimed at muggles students slightly older than Harry, the text itself was old which meant muggles had known this stuff for a long time-

"Harry," Sirius said, eyes moving past the publishing date to the slip of paper stuck inside the front cover, "this was due back at Dudley's school library last Tuesday."

"Yeah," Harry said, voice echoing over the top of the screen the Room had given him to change behind. "Dudley wasn't too worried. Seemed to think the librarian would be so pleased he's checked out a book that's not for English that she wouldn't mind."

"And if she does mind?"

"Then Dud'll probably tell her he's loaned it to his magical cousin in Scotland," Harry said, emerging in swimming trunks and a tshirt as the privacy screen sank back into the Room's floor.

That did sound like the sort of thing Dudley would do, was clever and funny in a very obvious way, but Sirius still sighed:

"The Statute-"

"S'not like I haven't told him," Harry said, sticking his bare toes in the water. A moment later the tile he was standing on vanished and he found himself waist-deep. He made a shrill, startled sound that had Sirius chuckling; Ron cackled from behind his own changing screen.

Harry grumbled, ducking underwater. He popped back up a moment later, hair plastered to his head, at least until he shook his head and it all stuck back up again, possibly even worse than it had before.

Ron - likewise dressed in trunks and a tshirt - came running out from behind his changing screen and jumped into a suddenly much deeper pool.

"Blimey," he said, when he resurfaced. "It's colder than I thought." Harry splashed him and Ron reached out to dunk him underwater in retaliation.

"All right," Sirius said, snapping his book shut and heading downstairs to join them, "I thought we were working on how not to drown."

"It's good practice for fighting off grindylows," Harry said, but stopped trying to push Ron's head underwater. Ron likewise released the grip he had on Harry's wrist. Both of them were grinning like idiots but Harry sobered quickly. "Right," he said. "So we'll go under, and if we stay under but don't send the signal up, then something's probably gone wrong."

"And what's the signal?" Sirius asked.

"A ball of light," Harry said as Ron's nose twitched. "Ron'll be able to get me out, no trouble, but if it comes to the surface charms..." They'd been working on it, Sirius knew, and while Harry'd picked up some of the basic first aid spells and had a better decompression charm than Sirius thanks to his reading on various underwater theories, Ron hadn't had quite as much success, and he'd had much less success with the diagnostic charms. Sirius knew they were hoping if they spent enough time preparing, they wouldn't need to know how to diagnose what had gone wrong, or how to drain lungs, and he was sort of hoping the same, but while they were preparing was another matter entirely.

Sirius nodded and Ron nodded, then scrunched up his face and raised a hand. A moment later, a jar of gillyweed in water thudded into it, having been summoned from a shelf up in the sitting area. He unscrewed the cap and pulled a slimy strand out, grimacing.

"See you down there," he said to Harry, setting the jar on the side of the pool. He ducked underwater.

"Aercapitis," Harry said slowly, deliberately, wand twisting and flicking a bit jerkily and in a way that barely resembled the wand movement for the basic version of the bubblehead charm they'd worked on over Christmas. A bubble ballooned into being around his head. "Wish me luck," Harry said, voice just the slightest bit echoey, and sank slowly underwater.

Potter came to retrieve her from the Beauxbatons carriage a little after eleven. Renee, Elodie, Adele and the rest of Beauxbatons, Dumstrang, and what seemed like most of Hogwarts migrated to the school gates, either to walk or catch a carriage into the village, but Potter led Fleur around the lake.

It was not as warm or as sunny as it had been the day before, but there sun was there, behind the clouds, and there were patches of blue up there as well. There were a few younger students out, studying, or fooling about by the shore near the Durmstrang ship.

Potter was wearing jeans, trainers, and the slightly too small jumper with the large green H on it that he'd worn on their first 'date', though it looked even smaller on him now than it had two months ago. It was the sort of thing he wore most weekends, unfortunately, so it didn't give Fleur any clues about where they might be going or what they might be doing. She cast her eyes around for something to talk about, and they landed on the activity at the gates.

"Are they magical?" Fleur asked.

"Are what magical?" Potter asked, blinking, as he tried to work out what she was looking at.

"The carriages," she sighed. "They go on their own?"

"Oh," Potter said. "No, they're pulled by thestrals." There was something strange in his voice, like this wasn't just a bit of trivia he'd picked up from Granger or by virtue of living at Hogwarts.

"Thestrals," Fleur repeated, and reminded herself to tell Elodie later; though she wouldn't be able to see them, she was sure she'd be delighted all the same, what with her love of all things equine. "And they're tame?" When he'd taught them about thestrals, Monsieur Lupin had given her the impression that, while they weren't particularly aggressive, thestrals were still wild.

"Yeah," Potter said. "Hagrid works with them a lot."

"And they're safe?"

"Yeah," Potter said again. "Luna goes to visit them. They're pretty gentle, really."

"She sees them?" Fleur asked tentatively. "Or does she just like to visit?"

"If anyone was going to go and visit a paddock full of invisible horses, it'd be Luna," Potter smiled, fond, but it didn't last. "But she does actually see them. Her mum died, years ago." Fleur felt a stir of pity for her, and then replayed Potter's earlier phrasing in her head; they're pretty gentle, really didn't sound like he was parroting something he'd been told, it sounded like the sort of thing he'd decided for himself, which could only mean…

"You see them." He gave a short nod. She was curious, but she thought it might be cruel - even for her - to ask more. Potter sighed after a moment, as if she had asked, and said, "Since the World Cup."

"Someone you knew?" she asked; there had been a few deaths at the Cup, but no children that she could-

"Yeah," Potter said, and then frowned. "Sort of. It was... complicated."

"A friend?"

"No," he said, surprisingly firmly, and Fleur blinked but decided not to push beyond that.

"So, where are you taking me?" she asked.

"It's a surprise," Potter said, with a sly little smile. Fleur rolled her eyes, but didn't really mind; she'd told him to surprise her, after all.

They walked a little further, until they were on the other side of the lake to the Durmstrang ship, and then Potter flicked his wand and conjured- no, transfigured - them a large, red picnic blanket.

"I figured we could have lunch," Potter said. "And just- not have an audience, for a while."

Fleur surprised herself by finding the thought of that quite nice; not so much the lunch or Potter's company, necessarily, but the lack of an audience; people had seen him collecting her and would also be able to see them from their carriages, so they'd know she and Potter were spending the day together, but they were far enough away that they wouldn't have to worry about prying eyes, or curious ears. It was the first time since Christmas that that had been the case.

"All right," Fleur said, and lowered herself onto the blanket. Potter sat down beside her and conjured a jar which he filled with bright blue flames.

"Hermione's better at this one than me," he said, a bit apologetically, but set the flaming jar on the blanket between them. "Go ahead and move it if it gets too hot." It was warm, warm enough that Fleur could feel it as soon as he placed it there, but she didn't mind being warm so she just shrugged, looking out over the lake.

In just over a week, she'd be in the lake, or, at least that was how she'd interpreted the egg's clue. The fact that the clue was in Mermish and that first line about breathing in and delving deep seemed to suggest that would be the case. The rest of the clue though… well, Fleur imagined it would make a lot more sense if she'd been able to make her egg out of all four pieces last task, instead of just out of three. It seemed to suggest the task would involve some sort of treasure - though she didn't know if she'd have to give it to the merfolk, or retrieve it from them - and it also sounded like she'd only have her wand for an hour.

But that didn't really matter; Bagman would surely give them details before the task started, so all Fleur really needed to worry about was how to breathe underwater… which she'd sorted already, so-

"Are your family coming to watch the task?" Potter asked. He too was looking out at the lake. Presumably he'd worked out how to understand the egg, though she supposed it was possible he mightn't have; Hogwarts didn't seem to place the same emphasis on languages as Beauxbatons did, and she knew from the many discussions about homework and upcoming lessons at mealtimes that Potter wasn't taking languages as a subject.

"Oui," Fleur replied. "Maman, Papa, and Gabrielle are arriving next weekend, and they will stay until the following one. I will not see much of them before the task, but afterward, we are going to visit some of your attractions. Diagon Alley is one, I think. And we will visit the Ministry, and Gabrielle wishes to ride the Knight Bus."

"I can't imagine you on the Knight Bus," Potter said, a funny, almost-amused look on his face. "Let me know how it goes?"

"Perhaps," Fleur sniffed, not sure what the joke was, and unwilling to ask him to explain. "Or perhaps you can come with us - Maman and Papa and Gabrielle will all want to meet you."

"Meet- but- they know that-"

"Of course," Fleur said, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "But I have met your family." Potter grunted but he looked nervous. "Gabrielle will like you, I think," she said, a bit grudgingly.

"Your sister, right?"

"Oui." And how Fleur missed her. She was young, yes, but she was sweet and clever and fun. She was Fleur's favourite person in the world. Potter looked pained, though she couldn't imagine why; he'd be lucky to have Gabrielle take a liking to him, though Fleur would strongly discourage him taking a liking back to her. "She is nine," she said coolly, though she didn't really think Potter was the sort to take a liking to nine year olds, even if they were part-veela.

"Nine?" Potter sounded a bit strangled.

"Oui," Fleur said, frowning at him, not sure whether to disapprove of his dismay or be amused by it. She decided to change the topic: "Will we be eating today?"

"Yeah," Potter said, shaking himself. "Yeah, sorry, are you hungry?" Without waiting for her to reply, he said, "Er... Dobby?"

Fleur had just long enough to wonder if that was a strange British food he was going to offer her when there was a loud pop and a large picnic basket with legs - two, twig-thin, legs wearing mismatched socks - appeared.

"Harry Potter, sir!" the basket exclaimed. Fleur shot Potter a vaguely alarmed look but Potter didn't see it, too busy scrambling to his knees to take the basket. The legs, as it turned out, did not belong to the basket, but rather to the house elf who had been carrying it.

It - he? - was the strangest elf Fleur had ever seen, wearing brightly coloured muggle swimming trunks, a silk pyjama shirt embroidered with DM, and a Walpurgis stinks badge that looked comically large on his thin chest.

"And Harry Potter's Miss!" He swept into a low bow and then moved forward like he might seize her hand and kiss it, but Potter distracted him:

"This is Fleur, Dobby," he said, and then peered into the basket. "Thanks for this - it looks brilliant."

"Dobby is glad Harry Potter is liking it," Dobby squeaked, lighting up at the praise. "The other elves was wanting to help, but Dobby is telling them No! Harry Potter is asking Dobby!"

"Oh… er… you could have let them help," Potter said. "I hope it wasn't too much trouble on your own-"

"Never too much trouble for Harry Potter," Dobby said, oddly sage, and patted Potter on the shoulder. Potter smiled at him, seeming both embarrassed and grateful. "And Dobby will be going soon, so Dobby is not disturbing Harry Potter and Harry Potter's Miss Fleur-" Fleur shot Potter a look, not liking the way Dobby made her sound like she was his, and Potter seemed to understand, grimacing an apology. "-but first… Dobby is wondering if he might speak to Harry Potter."

"Er… yeah, always, Dobby," Potter said, a bit uncertainly. "What's it about?" A troubled look settled over Potter's face. "It's not like- It's not like second year, is it? You're not trying to save my life again?"

"Not Harry Potter's life," Dobby said, in a hushed voice. He gave Fleur a cautious look. "Harry Potter and Master Draco's Wheezy's life."

"Ron's in danger?" Potter asked sharply. The elf nodded, ears flapping. "How? Who's he in danger from?" Potter was halfway to his feet, but Dobby flapped his hands and Potter paused.

"From- from- from Professor Dumbledore!" Dobby cried, and then launched himself at the basket. Fleur shuffled out of the way, but Potter caught him around the middle, wrestling him back into a standing position and then kept him in place with a hand on each shoulder.

"Dobby, what did Dumbledore say to you?" Potter asked, sounding a little calmer than before.

"Not to Dobby, Harry Potter. Dobby is going to take tea up to Professor Dumbledore this morning and Dobby is overhearing that Dumbledore is to be kidnapping Harry Potter and Master Draco's Wheezy!"

Rather than dismiss this, or grow alarmed, Potter cocked his head.

"Is it going to be next week, Dobby?" Potter asked. Dobby looked at Potter, eyes wide, and nodded.

"Harry Potter knows?"

"Yeah," Potter said, and sat down properly again, looking loose with relief. He was actually smiling, a smug little smile that Fleur hadn't seen on him before, but that she'd seen several times on Auror Black. "I know, and Ron knows, too. We're-" He glanced at Fleur who raised her eyebrows. "-er… working on it."

"So Professor Dumbledore is- is not being bad?" Dobby's enormous eyes were shiny with tears.

"Nah," Potter said. The elf burst into noisy sobs and Potter straightened, alarmed. "Hey, Dobby, it's-"

"Dobby is being s-so worried," Dobby said, "for Harry Potter and for Harry Potter and Master Draco's Wheezy, and worried because Dobby has had enough of working for bad men, and he thought Professor Dumbledore was a good man until Dobby is hearing what he's hearing this morning-"

"Dumbledore's still good," Potter assured him, giving the elf's thin shoulder a pat. "And Ron'll be fine. I'll make sure of it." The elf let out a wail and threw his arms around Potter - who patted him awkwardly on the back. Potter glanced at Fleur again, eyes shrewd this time. "Dumbledore didn't say who else he might be kidnapping, did he?"

"Dobby is not hearing, Harry Potter," Dobby replied. "Dobby is hearing Wheezy's name and Dobby is spilling tea all over Mister Bagman, Harry Potter, so-"

"That's all right," Potter said hastily. "I just wondered."

"Dobby could be trying to hear more-"

"No," Potter said. "I'm mostly just curious. Knowing about Ron- that's enough, it's brilliant." The elf gave Potter a bright, wet smile, bowed deeply, and disappeared with another pop. "That's Dobby," Potter said.

"He is very… unique," Fleur said. "But I'm less interested in your elf, and more interested in why you think they will be kidnapping students next week. It is for the task, I think?"

"You can think what you like," Potter replied, with a small smile. He hadn't planned this, she didn't think, but he'd certainly not made any attempt to keep her from listening to the conversation.

"I will," Fleur said. Potter offered her the basket and she pulled out a small plate of cut cheeses, cold meats, and grapes. She rolled up a bit of camembert in a slice of salami and took a bite. "Why are you telling me this?" she asked.

Potter was quiet for a few moments.

"Because your sister's nine," he said. "And there's a good chance it'll be her."

"I see," Fleur said, like this made perfect sense... they'd be kidnapping Gabrielle to… be the treasure, perhaps? Her heart tightened at the thought of Gabrielle in Hogwarts' big, cold lake. "And have you told Krum and Diggory?"

"Cedric came and told me to have a bath with my egg a week ago," Potter said, "so he probably knows." But perhaps he didn't - Diggory had only had three pieces as well, Fleur remembered. Potter might not have remembered that, though, but- well, too bad for Diggory. He was her competitor, after all and he was certainly playing to win. Except... "And Krum told Hermione he's solved it." Potter shrugged, but Fleur wasn't really interested in Krum.

"Diggory told you to have a bath with your egg?" Fleur demanded. "He's helping you?!"

"Well, not really," Potter said. "I solved the egg ages ago. But it's the thought that counts." He smiled.

"Why would he do that?" Fleur asked. What was Diggory's strategy? Was he hoping to put Potter in his debt so he could call in the favour during the task? Or-

"He said he owed me for the dragons," Potter said, shrugging again. "I told him about them, before the first task."

"Where was my hint before the first task?" Fleur asked silkily, examining the grapes before picking the one she wanted.

"M- Remus told you," Potter said. "And I had Hermione slip Krum a note."

Fleur dropped her grape and a grinning Potter picked it up and ate it.