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Chapter 42: The Chosen One

Same day. Hogwarts.

- By the way, my friends," Neville looked up from the parchment written in Hermione's clear handwriting and looked at the Heads sitting across from him on the couch. - Who's going to be in charge of our club?

- Well..." Hermione and Ron looked at each other.

Neville watched the emotions on their faces - his grandmother's lessons were gradually being learnt, and he was able to read his companions without magic.

Ron had a thirst for power in his eyes, but also a fear of embarrassment and ridiculousness - he was nothing special in battle magic, but he was eager to prove himself.

Hermione doubted it - if this was some theoretical subject, she would have been foaming at the mouth to defend her own candidacy, but the need for authority among her fellow students and really good ability in Defence clearly bothered her.

- A duel, perhaps? - Neville raised an eyebrow. - Let's ask Thomas and Finnigan to judge, for example, and then we'll have three fights, whoever wins both fights gets to teach the class.

- Well-ooh. - Hermione bit her lip. - Why not. - Dean, Seamus! Can I have a word?

The classmates came over and sat down on the sofa next to Longbottom.

- Guys, can you be judges in a little duel? - Neville clapped both of them on the shoulders.

- A duel? - The Gryffindors asked in one voice.

- Yes, we want to test some spells right here. Practise the Defence material.

- No problem," Dean answered for the two of them, glancing at Ginny Weasley, who was sitting next to Hermione, smiling invitingly at all three boys.

- 'Ron, let's you and I get you started,' Neville stood up from his seat. - Maybe some third or fourth year stuff, at least we had some practice there?

- Come on. - Ron looked back at Hermione, who had begun to move the tables with a spell to make room, and stepped into the centre of the room.

- Gentlemen and ladies, may I have your attention," Dean Thomas raised his voice to the entire living room with a slight wiggle. - You will be tested on the practical skills of Defence Against the Dark Arts by our fifth year students, Neville Longbottom and Ronald Weasley.

- Gentlemen, to the barrier," Finnigan waved his wand, preparing to give the signal. - Without something murderous, so we don't hit our own! И! Here we go!

- Expelliarmus! - Ron lunged disarmingly at the limit of available speed, but Longbottom, simply stepped aside, letting the beam fade harmlessly into the fireplace.

- Stupefy! Seco! - two spells flew at once towards Neville, who created a glittering sheet of Protego with a wave of his wand, and then crouched down sharply, letting the Slash pass over his head. Fred Weasley waved his wand, knocking the spell past its target and into the ceiling, protecting Lavender Brown who couldn't react in time.

- Diffindo! - Ron almost shouted the key word of the weak explosive spell.

- Neville, come on, attack! - Parvati Patil glared at the Gryffindor who appeared to be unexpectedly agile.

- Stupefy! Accio mat! - The rug Ron was standing on ripped out from under him, throwing the redheaded boy with the back of his head against the floor. With an awkward swing of his arms, Ron fell, and the Stunner slid through his hair without hitting its target.

- Expelliarmus! - The redhead's wand was in Neville's hands. - Ron, thank you. Hermione, what do you think?

- I think you've convinced me," the girl shook her head without getting up from the couch. - I think you've won.

- Well, that's good," Neville smiled contentedly as he helped the girl put the table back in place.

Thomas and Finnigan lifted Ron, who was holding his head, off the floor, and Neville came closer and held his wand out to him with the hilt facing forwards.

- Here you go, that was a good one. - Longbottom spoke in a friendly tone, but the redhead didn't appreciate it, mumbled something and took the wand, sitting down by the fireplace. Ginny, forgetting her flirtatiousness, ran over to her brother with a cold carafe of water and immediately applied the compress to a small bump swelling on the back of his neck.

- Ron, why don't we go to Madam Pomfrey? - Hermione looked at her friend anxiously.

- 'No need, I'm fine. - Ron relaxed back in his chair, letting the girl cast a spell to relieve the pain.

The next moment the entire Gryffindor living room was enjoying the sight of a surprised Fred being kissed on the cheeks by Lavender.

- To the rescue! - she commented on her actions.

- Dread, don't you think that means something, brother? - George didn't miss the opportunity to tease his twin.

- Piss off, Forge," Fred said. - Eat some candy and relax, you haven't been kissed by a beautiful girl, so you're jealous of me. - Lavender giggled upon hearing this comeuppance.

"Hey mate.

You'd be surprised, but the head and grand master of this Defence study club is me. Ron and Hermione were considering the role too, but we had a little duel in the drawing room that set things straight. So now if Dumbledore wants anything from our group, he'll have to talk to me, and that opens up some prospects.

Thanks for the defence books. I don't think your elemental spells are going to work on most of our fifth year students, though, I don't think they're at the same level. But time will tell, perhaps I'm just being pessimistic. The only thing that worries me is loyalty. Who and who will be loyal to whom, if after you return to Hogwarts, you're in a fight with Dumbledore. If all my fellow Dueling Club members side with him, is it even worth it to teach your future opponents? So far I only have confidence in Luna Lovegood and Colin Creevey, for whom you are Merlin himself in the flesh. Heh-heh-heh-heh. He's bemoaning that he ordered some new film for his horrible camera that doesn't work at Hogwarts for some reason, and you had the nerve not to come to fifth year, so now he's taking pictures of couples in every faculty... except Slytherin, of course... and he's making good money for his age. He's started taking girls to Hogsmeet, by the way. He's growing up.

Ginny started flirting with three fifth years before the duel, counting me... I wonder if she thinks I'd fall for a man who betrayed my friend. But Dean Thomas was clearly interested in her.

From what I remember of the Codex, if things got too far between them, it could be a play. The Weasley family, though blood traitors, were once noble, and so they're trying to preserve what's left of their reputation. And their daughter's... freewheeling behaviour could be the basis for something interesting... Merlin, I sounded just like Malfoy, who, by the way, doesn't interfere in our affairs too much, even though he's become head boy too. So far, he's just messing around, taking points and catching Gryffindors after bedtime, and he's especially happy to catch a couple of them in the broom cupboard, you know... He's not going to get anywhere in this matter, since he's already engaged to Pansy Parkinson. I wonder how things stand with you, my friend. Surely you're getting a lot of attention from the girls on the beaches thanks to your charisma?

Neville."

"Hello, Neville.

Yes, Colin Creevey with a camera is what I actually fled England from, wherever the hell I could to preserve even a measly remnant of my private life. Congratulations on your new position and new headache. As far as I've heard from Mrs Umbridge - you'll be her number one enemy now, after Dumbledore and Trelawney, if she finds out who's running your secret society.

Ginny can kill herself, mate, I don't give a damn about her. I guess the bloody potions the Weasleys were giving me were finally out of my system. Now I can think about both the traitor Ron and that self-serving little red-haired girl.

I wish you success in meeting our dearest lemon slice lover soon, and be sure to stock up on antidotes or a poison detector... I've been spiked with potions recently.

Speaking of Weasley. Although that word is a swear word to me now, the twins were supposedly going to open their own shop, with my money, and I gave them all my winnings from the Tournament last year, as soon as I got out of the infirmary, but before I found out about their family's betrayal. So please, buy me some of their new arsenal. Where I am now, a spell potion poured into a glass is commonplace, and the only dung bomb I have in my possession I recently sent to well-wishers, and was challenged to a duel for it, by the way. Apparently, they didn't like my outrage over the potion being slipped to me.

Damn nosy Gryffindor, Merlin spare me the attention of so many women! I only need the company of one, but I didn't tell you about that, and Sirius annoys me with his jokes every day.

Harry.

P.S. Is it just me, or does Malfoy deserve something a little nasty? Like vomit potion in pumpkin juice at lunch in the Great Hall. Dobby will be quite helpful if you say it's my request.

Harry.

P.P.S. Read the book - it'll come in handy, Sirius gave me one for my birthday.

Harry Potter."

"Harry, a hundred demons under your duvet, what's with the terrible jokes? I'm sending you Vomit Bars, the same vomit powder, dung bombs, and candy that turns you into a green, smelly zombie for five minutes. You should have seen the twins' eyes when I bought all that stuff from them. I was afraid until the last moment that some of their stuff would explode in my bag and I'd experience all of it at once. Snape, by the way, noticed them putting Hilarious Powder in the fireplace in the Great Hall and yelled at them for a long time, but he took away the rest of the powder and went to the lab without taking any points off. But then, when he caught Ron and Parvati in one of the corridors after lights out, he took fifty points off each of them and sent them to Filch for a fortnight's work, so Snape was still Snape. They hadn't even kissed, as far as I could hear from Lavender's chattering in the living room. Hermione was mad as a demon that Gryffindor had once again slipped from first place in the competition straight to fourth in one evening.

Neville."

"Hey Harry.

Tell me a secret, what kind of book did you send Neville if he, whenever I bring it up, immediately starts mumbling and blushing like he's back in fourth year again and is the same old shy Neville?

Mrs Umbridge called me into her office today. She offered me tea, which I declined, telling me that people who drink tea in the evening attract brainiacs in their heads. Her face became like a red-hot potato. She was quite polite, and casually informed me that my father was expected to be obedient to the general policy of the Ministry, not to write articles denigrating not only the Headmaster but Cornelius Fudge as well.

When we walked with Neville in Hogsmeade today, he was surprisingly thoughtful and paid more attention to his bag than to me: he was constantly adjusting it, smoothing it out, and when we got to Hogwarts, he rushed off to the owlery. What are you doing with him?

Luna Lovegood."

"Luna, I sent Neville a book about the magical properties of the Magical Malevolent Biter that he's going to plant on Malfoy during the New Year's Ball. Wear the portal Neville gave you without taking it off, Sirius and Lady Augusta are watching the situation with your father's newspaper.

Neville has promised to send me some rather interesting crafts from the Weasley twins - I doubt you'd be happy about a dung bomb exploding in his bag.

Harry."

25 December 1995. Hogwarts.

- So, ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered today after all. - Neville, twirling the wand between his fingers that he had been practising for quite some time, walked between the students seated on the mats. Fascinated by the deft twirling of his wand, the classmates took his words a little more calmly and didn't get distracted by extraneous conversations.

- Hermione suggested we form a small society, no, not GAVNE," Neville stopped talking, waiting for a wave of laughter. - And you all signed the parchment and decided to study Defence without giving away the secrecy of our circle or this room to any outsiders.

- If you agree," the wand swirled above the boy's palm and fell back down, accompanied by looks from the crowd, "if you agree, then those who wish to bring new members into the club must have the approval of all of us?

- Yes.

- That's not a bad thing.

- We can do that," came from all sides.

- But first I'd like to ask two questions," Neville stopped in front of the fireplace, so that his figure was surrounded by the flames and his shadow fell on the assembled students. - We've already learnt who will be in charge of the club. But who will be the instructors along with me? I alone am too few, even if there are still only fourteen of us.

- Hermione," several people turned towards the girl with the brown hair.

Ron blushed, realising that after his failed performance in the Gryffindor common room, no one would nominate him.

- Hermione, do we have a deal? - Blushing with pleasure, the girl walked over to the fireplace. - I think that's enough for now... Now, gentlemen and ladies, let's see what we have to work with. Neville pointed to the platform. Let's go out in pairs and work against a partner.

Hermione took a parchment from the table and tore it into several pieces, writing the name of the person present on each.

- Lavender Brown - Ron Weasley.

- Fred Weasley - Alicia Spinnet.

- Luna Lovegood," Neville looked at the smiling blonde. - Dean Thomas.

- Seamus Finnigan - Parvati Patil.

- Padma Patil - Colin Creevey.

- Ginny Weasley - Michael Corner.

For the next half hour, the room turned into a battlefield as the contestants came out in pairs to try and defeat their opponent. Eventually the result of not having a proper Defence teacher for the last five years became clear to all present.

- Insendio! - A tongue of flame from Neville's wand licked the ceiling, causing Parvati to shriek in fear and the twins to look at the once tubby Gryffindor with silent respect. - Let's think, gentlemen and ladies.

- By the way.

- Neville.

- Why.

- Exactly.

- You.

- In charge.

- This.

-Society," the twins looked at the Gryffindor without threat or displeasure, but with some curiosity.

- I think it's because I'm about to duel either of you, if you'll excuse me. - Neville smiled demurely. - Unlike you, I've been training regularly for the last five months. Really, if Harry Potter were here, he'd have me by the waist with ease.

- By the way, Neville," Parvati shook her hair flirtatiously. - Where did you learn all this stuff?

- Over the summer, my grandmother decided that if Voldemort was a threat," Neville said the scary name calmly. - As the heir to the Longbottom family and its future head, I should be smart. So I've been tormented all summer and often on weekends by a former auror trying to make a fighter out of me. Whether he's succeeding or not is not for me to judge.

- I think it's working," the fifth year replied with a long, languid look.

* * *

- You shouldn't have emphasised that you were the future head of the oldest and noblest house, Neville," Luna smiled distantly when the two of them were alone after the training session.

- I regretted it too, when I saw her eyes light up," Neville shrugged, gathering up the sheets of paper he'd scribbled down with the force vectors.

- Now she can hunt you down," Luna was frankly amused at the sight of a slightly embarrassed Neville.

- That's her business, she doesn't stand a chance," the boy met her laughing gaze firmly.

- Really? Why? - The blond eyebrows raised in bewilderment.

- No reason... - Neville raked all his scrolls into a pile, stuffed them into his bag and flew out the door.

Luna shook her head in bewilderment and opened a large sketchbook that appeared on the table in front of her out of nowhere.

- Thank you," her fragile fingers stroked the literally rumbling tabletop. - Thank you, my dear.

If Sirius Black had seen it, he would have been impressed with what the young wizard had done, but one of the most dangerous wizards in England wasn't in the room to appreciate the level of unity Luna had achieved with the creation of the four Founders of Hogwarts.

The pencil in the girl's hands slid across the snow-white sheet, leaving still vague outlines of the dueling platform and vague figures with wands in their hands frozen on it. The girl was humming a song as she drew, not noticing how the drawing on the ceiling changed in time with her words and how the flames in the fireplace danced to her song. The magic of one of the strangest families, on par with the Ollivanders, was incomprehensible and beyond the control of any living wizard.

Albus Dumbledore, drinking tea in his office, swore angrily when his chair suddenly began to dance. Before the astonished Headmaster's eyes, ripples of magic travelled along the walls, as if the castle was stretching like a big cat.

- Damn it! - The grey beard stood up. On the second attempt, the headmaster managed to stun his own chair. - What kind of mordred joke is this?

But Hogwarts had no answer for the old wizard, who had long ago channelled his abilities not into children's fates, but into personal power and influence in society. The portraits chattered around in bewilderment, and only Alex Hellfire, the one-eyed, powerful old man, the first Headmaster of Hogwarts after the death of Helga Hufflepuff, who had devoted herself to the school to the last, smiled enigmatically at his thoughts. Though what thoughts could a magical portrait have?

- Albus, what was that? - Snape, smelling of something unusually stinky, flew out of the fireplace, leaving a trail of smoke behind him. The Potions professor's office flashed through the flames and was one continuous trail of smoke. The Headmaster's phoenix, sitting on a perch near the fireplace, defiantly stuck its head under its wing to escape the smell.

- I don't know, my boy, I don't know, Hogwarts is silent. - The Headmaster, clutching his wand in his fingers, considered his chair.

- I had two cauldrons explode when the table underneath them started dancing! - Snape was literally hissing with anger.

- And I had to stun my own chair," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, sinking into his thoughts. - I guess Hogwarts was just playing a joke on us, boy.

Snape stepped into the fireplace flames without answering, shouting a defence spell as he went. Dumbledore, wrinkling his nose, opened the window, letting fresh air into the slightly smoky room.

"Hello, Harry.

Rejoice, oh my distant friend, you are no longer the Chosen One in terms of the Great Light Wizard. I was invited for a cup of tea this evening by the Headmaster. He paced around for a long time, pouring tea for me, but finally he said the following verbatim:

- Neville, my boy, a few months before the end of the First War, a prophecy was made about the birth of a child capable of killing the Dark Lord once and for all. Everyone, including myself, decided that the child fitting this prophecy was Harry Potter, who did indeed somehow manage to strip the Lord of his body and send him into oblivion for a long fourteen years. But now that I see that the young man who was named a national hero on that fateful night has left the country, fleeing the burden of responsibility, I wonder if we were all wrong then, for two families fit the prophecy's description. James and Lily Potter's family and... Frank and Alice Longbottom's family.

Frankly, I was taken aback by the news, Harry. And Dumbledore, seeing my surprise, continued:

- Think to yourself, who should be called the Chosen One more - a man who has escaped from his responsibilities on another continent, or the incoming heir to an ancient and noble family, who has already begun teaching his fellow students combat magic and has been studying with a retired Auror for almost six months.

I pretended to think deeply, but I couldn't figure out what he wanted, if he had decided to replace you with me. I was most amused by the training argument, because you hadn't been trained until you'd run away and found teachers on your own. The headmaster waited for me to think about it, and then he began to work me over again.

- I think everyone's actions speak for themselves much better than their reputation. You grew up an unknown man, and Harry grew up enjoying the limelight and fame. But you're here, helping your friends deal with the threat of the Dark Lord, and he's scared - somewhere in another distant land, and has no intention of going back. He's abandoned his loyal and devoted friends, abandoned the girl in love with him, abandoned the civilians hoping for him. And you didn't. So which of you should be called the Child of Prophecy, the Chosen One for a great purpose and possessing the necessary firmness of character to do so?

I had no choice but to say that I was the Chosen One, though I wanted to smash the nearest chair over his head-you'd told me how "famous" you'd been for most of your Muggle life.

The Headmaster nodded, pleased that I'd finally got his point, and said he was going to do a big interview tomorrow about his own mistake and Harry Potter's misguided path in the Prophet. I thought it might interfere with your plans, so I suggested a clever thing: let everyone, including Voldemort - you should have seen his eyes glaze over when I called the Lord by his first name - think you were the Chosen One. And then I'll have to defeat the Lord in the finals, and then the Headmaster will tell everyone about my real role in the prophecy, and your name will be muddied and forgotten as a fraud.

Dumbledore thought for a moment, and then agreed that this was indeed the best thing to do.

So now I'm the hero of the prophecy, mate.

Neville.

P.S. I've ordered myself a poison detector. I don't want to fall in love with a Weasley redhead, a fate I wouldn't wish even on Malfoy.

Neville is of the oldest and noblest of the Longbottom family. The Chosen One.

P.P.S. Look for the prophecy, Dumbledore refused to give me the full text. Sirius doesn't know either."

- Sirius, I'm going to have a big favour to ask of you. - The Headmaster, who had stopped by for a glass of wine at the Bleak House, seemed very tired.

- 'What was it you wanted, Albus? - The aristocrat raised his glass, saluting his guest.

- 'Lady Longbottom's grandson has gathered a group of people at Hogwarts to study Defence Against the Dark Arts,' the Headmaster smiled benignly at some of his thoughts.

- It is a worthy endeavour for an heir to an ancient family.

- Do you know who is teaching it?

- No, Albus, but if you want to train him," Sirius went to meet him, "you have two other excellent candidates, me, since Alice and Frank were old friends of mine, and Alastor, who is probably bored with his position as head of the Aurorat Special Squad.

- Yes, you're right," the headmaster sprang into the trap, for he was about to ask the same thing. - I would only ask Alastor, but he doesn't know much about your aristocratic magic.

- Don't tell him yourself, Headmaster," Sirius laughed. - Alastor is the heir to an old, albeit nearly extinct, family. All right, I'll talk to Neville more closely. Who's going to teach him higher light magic? I'm not exactly fluent in it.

- Я. - Dumbledore grinned enigmatically. - 'And then we'll see what the boy learns, and what he can pass on to the next generation.

"To the younger generation of your puppets, you old bastard," Sirius was seething with anger inside. - Glad to see that you have future additions to your camp of supporters under your nose... Let's see if Neville and then Harry manage to get them out from under your tutelage..."

30 December 1995. Beauxbaton.

In old Charmbaton tradition, the New Year's Ball was held one day before the new year so that the actual holiday could be celebrated by the students with their families. So a few hours later, one of the most colourful balls in France was to begin in the Great Hall, additionally expanded to the limit by magic, so that it required the joint efforts of several dozen wizards.

The neutral territory of the school allowed even representatives of warring families to meet at the ball, so that the ball was at the same time the largest, second only to the ball at the Ministry of Magic, which would take place on the first day of the new year.

But there were, of course, some difficulties, which reminded me of the time before the festival at Hogwarts - just as there, there were many people who found it difficult to invite the girl or boy they liked. Then again, among the strong families, New Year's Eve was an opportunity to make or break an alliance, all of which naturally reflected on their children studying at Beauxbaton.

- And yet, Harold, confess, who are you going to the ball with? - What I liked about the Ragnarrson brothers, and the whole school in general, was the ability to ask questions without seeming intrusive. At Hogwarts, I'd have been swarmed by "friends" who wouldn't leave me alone until they'd asked me everything I wanted to know. But here - my classmates, having inquired about my favourite girl a few times and having received an evasive answer, quickly left me behind. The girls showed a little more interest; unfortunately, my joke about the Campbell family didn't help much. So the only one who was still trying to crack me up, purely out of sporting interest, was Olaf.

- Leave him alone, mate," George Malfrock said, sitting in the faculty lounge, lazily thumbing through a collection of poems by some Spanish noble don. - If Harold promised he wouldn't come alone, he would.

- Well, there must be a mystery, an intrigue," I joined in the joke. - So you, my friend, are having fun trying to crack me, and I'm fighting back.

- Well, it's clear enough with George," Olaf grinned. - He's going to go to the ball with Charlotte de Baille, and he's even learning some ancient poetry for it.

- If the beautiful lady appreciates old poetry, her beau should not be a bad influence. - I said what I thought, and George and I laughed. - Besides, you and Jorg had a lot of fun when three times in the last month my glass turned out to be a spell potion.

- Yes, it was funny... Especially when you remember what kind of letters you sent to unfortunate girls whose only fault is their desire for strong genes for their offspring.

- Apparently, my saying that my heart is set on a single girl didn't make any impression on them.

- And you're hoping they'll be impressed by your jokes?

- I hope they'll be impressed by my favourite, Olaf... - I twirled the poison detector chain in my hand. - She really can be inimitable if she wants to be.

- Okay, it's time. - Olaf, picking up Jorg on the way, left the living room, heading towards the Sun Faculty, where the twin girls I'd seen earlier were studying.

I, too, got out of the chair I'd been sitting in for over an hour now, fully assembled and prepared, thanks to Delacour's stylist and couturier, for the ball yesterday. Clothes-a steel-grey tailcoat, a white shirt, patent shoes, a wand case, a poison detector, a ring-that was all I needed.

Fleur appeared at the portal pad with her mother. Jean-Claude had received some urgent news from Germany at the last moment and had gone about his business. My beloved was dressed in pure white like a bride, though perhaps there was a hint in that, too, which I could not understand despite the efforts of the etiquette teachers. A white, flowing gown with a small neckline, a wave of blonde hair held back by a silver hoop, her bare hands in thin gloves. But the aura of Veela, released, fortunately for others, not at full capacity, made the charming girl almost the most noticeable of all the stream of people walking slowly from the portal platform to the castle. Marie Delacourt was wearing a rare and expensive family amulet that partially muffled the attraction of a pure-blood Veela, but there were many admiring glances towards her.

 - You're as beautiful as ever," I bowed and kissed the slender wrist, forced by the number of other people's eyes to switch to formal communication. - Madame Delacourt, my respects. - The next kiss was intended for Fleur's mother.

 - Monsieur Britton," Marie nodded at me in the same polite but detached manner, but a faint smile showed that she was pleased with my appearance.

 Light, unobtrusive music was already playing in the large hall, a small group of musicians playing a quiet tune that would make for easy conversation. And the students, parents, and some officials who were pouring into the hall gradually dispersed around the room, joining one or another bunch of people.

 A brief poke in the side and a respectful glance from the twins who passed close by showed that they were surprised by my company, and especially by the girl I was holding by the hand. Until the formal part of the evening began, the three of us just stood there, chatting casually, but occasionally I caught some rather attentive glances at the three of us. Marie Delacourt, having made sure that the necessary impression was achieved, smiled softly at us and disappeared into the circle of those invited to the ball, to chat with her friends who had been noticed.

 - Now everyone can see which girl has taken up all the space in my heart," I grinned softly at the smiling Fleur.

 - I've already heard rumours from Gabrielle and the rest of your seventh year friends that you've been slipped potions by various enterprising girls," Fleur frowned.

 Instead of answering, I silently pulled out a chain from under my collar with a locket hanging from it-a gift from Fleur-and a delicate azure crystal poison detector.

 - Ciaran's paranoia, combined with life in Beauxbaton, has a great effect - I don't take off my wand case and pendant even in my sleep.

 - And in the bath? - Fleur said quietly, glancing at me mockingly.

 If I'd heard such a question in my fourth year, I would have been embarrassed and could only mumble something inaudible, but more than half a year of living in human conditions and the company of my favourite girl helped me to answer with a sly grimace that it was better to test it in practice. Fleur's ringing laughter sounded like crystal bells and pierced the monotonous noise of the voices of the guests in the hall.

- Monsieur Britton, you are certainly embarrassing me with your ambiguous jokes. - But the girl's eyes burned with such emotion that I felt uncomfortable.

I reached up and kissed her delicate fingers, breathing in the unique scent-an action that was almost borderline acceptable, even at such a semi-formal event. Though... If one remembered how Hogwarts students kissed at the end of the Winter Ball... This kiss would be completely lost in the background. Fleur, who had caught echoes of my emotions and thoughts through our mental link, laughed once more.

- Did you remember your fourth year and the ball, too? - She didn't name the Wizard Tournament, so as not to give possible casual listeners too much information.

- Yeah, I was awful back then. - I frowned. - Even though it's only been a year, I look at myself back then and think about how stupid I was.

- It's just that you've grown from a teenager into a young man," Marie Delacourt, who had been discussing something animatedly with several jewelled women nearby, glided past us.

- And I like the changes," she said with a sly and warm smile that filled my heart with joy.

I was saved from answering by the appearance of Madame Maxime, who announced the beginning of the ball with a loud voice. The half-giantess did without the long speeches typical of Dumbledore, but just briefly congratulated all the students on the upcoming start of the new year. Obeying the headmistress' wave of her hand, the musicians played the first tune.

As there were quite a few people in the hall, some of them retreated to the walls where there were tables and chairs, but most of them swirled in a whirlwind of colours and music. I led the smiling Fleur, feeling the rush of magic still lurking in the depths of her aura, the girl's thin hand in my hands was hot as fire, and her sparkling eyes told me that she was enjoying herself.

For the first half an hour we danced non-stop, melody followed melody, some of the students who were not familiar with ancient dances gradually dropped out, retreating to the walls, breaking into couples and lively companies. After a short time, when the attention of the people gathered in the hall would be directed to the dancers, some of the couples would surely slip out from under the watchful eye of the deans, parents and teachers. However, to give the students their due, it was mostly Muggleborns who did that, having grown up in a completely different environment than the children of wizards, much more conservative than Muggles.

- I wonder if the alchemists here brew birth control potions," I said the thought out loud, making Fleur laugh.

- So that's what you have in mind, Mr Britton!

- No, I was just curious about that side of life at my former school," I didn't give in to the provocation.

- I think they do, and a lot of it," Fleur smiled at her thoughts. - But I know it only from the words of my friends, and I didn't need such things, you know.

- I see. I didn't have much interest in socialising with anyone for the previous year," I kept silent about my feelings for Chow Chang, which hadn't fully formed and quickly disappeared.

- Yeah? - The predatory smile on Fleur's face looked... intimidating. - I thought you had your eye on that Chinese girl at the ball.

- That's in the past. There was nothing there," I shook my head, admitting defeat. - That year had been a mess, the tournament, the bullshit articles in the press, the pressure from the ministry, and that damn final. - The image of Cedric falling to the ground with a paused stare flashed in and out of my mind, swept away by the wave of involvement and warmth coming from Fleur. A thin hand touched my shoulder.

- By the way, I see a certain individual not far from us who has risked drugging you with a spell potion. - Fleur was obviously a little... jealous today. Didn't bother me too much, though. - I should play a prank on her, too.

- Leave it, she's already had enough of my gift," I grumbled. - After my dung bomb had exploded at the Campbell mansion, they'd probably spent hours cleaning up the aftermath.

- Considering the gossip my sis passed on to me, you send some rare nasty stuff to anyone who tries to cast a spell on you. - Fleur grinned. - But you're forgetting something... You've settled accounts for yourself. I'll settle for my offence.

With a sly smile, Veela pulled her wand from the socket of her glove, shifted slightly so that it was hidden between our bodies, and whispered something into Lillian's back. To my utmost relief, no dress fell off her, no heel broke, or anything disgusting or foul-smelling that I had slightly feared. It was just that on her golden silk draped back was clearly written in gothic letters in French: "Bitch."

- Brutal. - Under my gaze, the inscription bloomed in all the colours of the rainbow and faded away, invisible.

- It would reappear periodically until the end of the ball. - Fleur hid her wand without a smile, becoming cute and charming again. - In a couple of hours the whole hall would be giggling at her.

- Let's dance," I decided to distract my vengeful Veela from looking for potential rivals. - Although... I'd prefer it to be just you and me on a holiday away from people.

- There will be more of that," the girl let herself be led away into the circle of dancing people.

As I danced, a few thoughts ran through my head. Our joint appearance at the ball already declared my intentions, especially if we dance together for the whole holiday. And the presence of Marie Delacourt beside us, calmly watching our interactions, showed the family's acceptance of my candidacy. If the two of us left the ball now and went somewhere more private, then... My intuition stalled, trying to calculate all the possible consequences.

- It seems to me, my love, that if we leave the ballroom now, no one will notice us. - The shadows had already gathered under the dome, and the light was fading, giving the atmosphere a certain mystery. The clusters of flowers carved into the wooden panels that covered the walls glowed with a shimmering light, distant and mysterious, adding to the effect of the whole picture of the hall filled with dancing people.

- Mm-mm," I always liked the way Fleur pulled that sound, the almost purring intonation making her sound like a cat. - That's an interesting thought. And where do you want to invite the poor defenceless girl?

- To the Beauxbaton wall. Where the first stars should be appearing in the sky by now.

- And when did my fiancé-to-be visit the wall during the night hours? - Fleur smiled.

- It happened by chance, after one of the faculty parties. - I shrugged my shoulders, not wanting to tell about a not-so-pretty episode that had happened recently and, fortunately, remained the only one.

I led Fleur to the outer wall, through the dusky corridors, almost empty and therefore seemingly mysterious, as if we were in a magical fairy tale. The cool air, the breeze and the many secluded nooks in the gardens adjoining the castle were not favourable to other people.

Fleur, dressed in a light dress, shrugged shakily, and I waved my wand, casting a warming spell, and then just hugged her to my chest, burying my face in her fluffy hair. The girl lifted her head, pressing her lips to mine, and the surroundings stopped bothering us for a while.

It must have looked beautiful from the outside - the magic castle shimmering with all the colours of the rainbow behind our backs, the complete darkness of the night outside the walls, and against the multicolour of Beauxbaton's colours - a boy and a girl on the fortress wall kissing.

---

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