FicWad

A/N: I still don’t own Harry Potter. I’m just an adrenaline junkie with a Harry Potter fetish.

A/N 2: I keep forgetting to thank everybody for all the reviews. They are really appreciated.

A/N 3: I’ve decided to get this chapter out ahead of schedule because I have tests starting this week. I forgot all about them and now I’m in the shit.

A/N 4: Happy New Year! 2009.

Chapter 7: Potter Hall

“Shit!” swore Harry. His picture was on the front of the “Daily Prophet” again, along with pictures of both Daphne and Tracey. The Death Eaters could probably guess where he was staying and could arrive at any moment, although he suspected they would wait for night fall. It definitely wouldn’t hurt to get away to somewhere safe.

“We’re gonna have to leave here,” he continued, “The Death Munchers could show up. All they have to do is guess the location, it’s not that hard. We’ll have to warn the Davies as well.” Harry was nearly panicking at this point, almost expecting every Death Eater to swarm the building in a few seconds.

“Harry,” started Hilda, “Calm down. The Death Eaters won’t attack yet. It’s not their modus operandi. They’ll wait for nightfall before attacking. I was just about to warn the Davies when you came down. I would recommend that you head back upstairs, pack and think about a suitable place for us to hide.”

That was good, Harry now had something to focus his mind on and he understood Hilda’s rationale. He sprinted out of the room as Hilda fire-called Mark.

Within seconds he was back in his bedroom, hurriedly throwing his belongings into a case he had summoned. Ten minutes later he walked into the girls’ bedroom with his trunk over a shoulder and his Firebolt in his hands.

“Wow,” he said as he opened the door. The girls hadn’t bothered getting dressed yet and were only wearing knickers. He snuck what he thought was a quick look at both sets of breasts: they were both good, but Daphne’s were larger. Harry thought he might be able to get lost in the valley created by them, and Tracey’s were only slightly smaller. Both pairs appeared very firm for their size. Tracey’s areolas were darker and her nipples appeared slightly bigger as well. After gazing for a few seconds Harry heard one of the girl’s ask him a question.

“Do you like what you see?”

Harry couldn’t tell which teen said it as he shook his head to clear himself of the thoughts that had cropped into his head. He had slept with the girls, but that was it. He hadn’t seen their tits.

“Um, yes; I mean no, yes,” stuttered Harry, startled at how comfortable the girls were with each other. He suddenly remembered why he had entered their room in the first place.

“Quickly,” he said, “Pack as much as you can into a case. There were pictures of us in the “Daily Prophet.” It won’t be too long before someone realises where I am staying and the Dark Wanker decides to pay a visit.”

After relaying the message Harry swiftly exited the room and rushed to tell the Delacours and Tonks what was happening. They were startled at first, but reacted to the news quickly; Fleur was the last person Harry needed to find and he almost ran into her as he left her parents room.

“Fleur, we’ve got to -” Harry began, but was cut off mid-sentence.

“Don’t worry, I heard. Although, if we are going anywhere, it wouldn’t hurt you to put on some clothes.”

Harry glanced downwards and saw that he was still only wearing a pair of boxers and the dressing gown had worked itself loose. He instantly dropped the trunk and pulled on the first pair of trousers and shirt he could find. Unfortunately the first shirt he had found was Daphne’s shirt from the previous night. He had been is such a hurry to pack he hadn’t realised the girls’ clothing had been strewn over his floor. Fleur laughed as he pulled on another shirt; he carefully picked out one to make sure he didn’t wear Tracey’s.

He scrambled down the stairs to avoid Fleur’s questions just in time to see Emily step out of the fireplace when he realised where he could go: they could travel to his own ancestral home, Potter Hall. They remainder of the entourage arrived as Harry outlined his idea. He would have to floo there first and then allow everyone else through. Hilda explained that all he had to do was approach the fireplace and say that he permitted whomever he wanted to enter the wards. Everyone else would follow him five minutes after he had left; that should give him enough time to adjust the wards sufficiently. Just before he left Harry looked round at the group of people gathered before him: there was a half veela, two quarter veelas, a metamorphmagus guardian of the light, an ex-soldier, two teenage witches and their mothers. And him: a half dark elf guardian of dark magic, and hopefully saviour of the wizarding world. Not your standard collection of people, but then again, nothing was standard when it concerned Harry Potter.

Harry grabbed a handful of floo powder and said “Potter Hall” in a clear voice before stepping through the green flames.

*

As he stumbled out of the fireplace he was momentarily startled by the grandeur of the house: his house. The floor was marble and the furniture was modern, but appeared to be comfortable. Harry could see pillars supporting the floor above. Everything looked as if it had seen better days though; a layer of dust coated every item in the room. Harry decided to explore later and returned to the task at hand.

“I, Harold James Potter, do hereby grant Hilda Greengrass, Daphne Greengrass, Nymphadora Tonks, Fleur Delacour, Gabrielle Delacour, Belle Delacour, Davide Delacour, Tracey Davies, Emily Davies, Mark Davies and Liv Davies entry into Potter Hall.” There was a flash of white light from Harry that seemed to grow and spread throughout the room, and even further, until it reached the wards where it seemed to melt into them. Harry had to use his full name when changing the wards, but it didn’t matter whether he said anyone else’s name or not: as with all magic it was the intent that counted. Saying the names just made it easier.

He then stood beside the fireplace and waited for everyone to follow him through when he had another brainwave.

“Dobby!” he called. A house elf appeared before him and instantly fell at his feet.

“What can Dobby be doing for great and powerful Harry Potter?” he questioned.

“Dobby, can you clean this place up a little? And please prepare the bedrooms.”

“Is Mister Harry Potter sir hiring Dobby? Mister Harry Potter is a great and powerful wizard. Nasty Wheezes tried to harm him, but great and powerful Mister Potter was too strong for their tricks.”

Harry hadn’t thought about hiring Dobby, but realised what a good idea it was. “Alright Dobby, I’ll hire you. Just, don’t punish yourself, okay?”

“Harry Potter sir is as kind as he is great.”

“Just call me Harry as well, please.”

“Oh no, Dobby can not be doing that. It is not showing respect for Master if Bobby be doing that.”

Harry heard the fireplace roar into life behind him and turned around just in time to catch Fleur. She stayed in his arms for a second, smiling up at him, almost daring him to try something. As the flames in the fireplace turned green she straightened up and whispered “We need to talk later,” into his ear.

Daphne arrived just in time to see Fleur lean against Harry and whisper conspiratorially in his ear and Harry could swear he saw a look of jealousy pass over her eyes before it quickly disappeared. She launched herself at Harry and pulled him into a fierce kiss. She reached down between his legs and gave him a quick squeeze, making sure that Fleur saw. The French woman turned her back on the couple, but Harry thought he saw a look a pain in her eyes. He was confused, but decided to go with it; he would talk to Fleur later.

*

Later that evening, after unpacking and double-checking to make sure they had brought everything they possibly could from Greengrass Manor, the group sat in the sitting room. They were discussing the implications of the article printed in the “Daily Prophet.” It would be dangerous for any of them to appear in public for a prolonged period of time as all would be at the top of Voldemort’s hit list.

“You do recognise a significant problem, don’t you Harry?” asked Hilda.

“What’s that?” replied the confused teen.

“We need to get you to Hogwarts and get your school supplies. The station or Diagon Alley are likely places for you to appear in and as such Voldemort will have spies in those locations,” explained Liv; she and Hilda had had a discussion about this earlier.

Harry thought for a second before speaking. “The supplies aren’t a problem. We can simply mail order them or get the house elves to pick them up. I don’t have a clue about how to get to school though. Anyone?”

There was near silence throughout the room. The only sounds came from Gabrielle and Emily, who were playing quietly in the corner; they had become friends nearly immediately and it warmed the hearts of the adults. It showed them that, even in times as dire as they were in, what is good in life could still flourish. When it became obvious that nobody was going to be forthcoming with an idea Fleur rose from her seat beside her mother and strode to Harry.

Leaning over him, she whispered in his ear, “I think we should have that talk now, while everyone else is trying to think.”

Harry nodded and followed her up to his room. As they left Daphne and Tracey exchanged glances before rising and stealthily trailing the pair, careful not to let them hear them. As she watched Fleur and Harry enter his room and close the door Daphne almost burst into the room, but Tracey held her back, with one hand clamped over Daphne’s mouth. After Daphne finished struggling she loosened her grip and motioned that they should listen to what was being said – or done – on the other side of the partition. There was silence and then Fleur began to speak.

Inside the room Harry was sitting on the edge of the bed, wondering what this could be about, while Fleur sat in the armchair. Harry thought that for once the French veela looked unsure of herself, even worried: various emotions seemed to dance across her eyes.

“Harry,” she began, “I need to tell you something.”

This worried Harry; any time a conversation started like that it was rarely good news. He sat silently, waiting for Fleur to continue. She took a breath to steady her fear and continued.

“I know you are attracted to me – no, don’t protest. You won’t admit it, but a part of you is.” Fleur thought carefully, choosing her words, “After the Triwizard Tournament I found myself attracted to you as well.” Harry was stunned, but continued to be quiet, sensing more to come. “Normally, this would mean nothing, but because you are part dark-elf, something strange has happened.”

“What?” asked Harry, the worry and fear creeping into his voice.

“A bond has formed between us. It is an old defence mechanism for sentient creatures other than humans.”

“What does it mean?” said Harry, who was still confused. Outside the room both teens were wondering the same thing.

Fleur took another deep breath to steady herself. “Between the life bond forged between us, our attractions and the fact that neither of us are fully human we have become bonded. We can sense each others emotions and draw on each others magic. As the bond grows stronger we may even be able to communicate mentally, but we can not be separated for long periods of time. The more time we spend together the stronger the bond grows and the longer and further we can remain apart.”

Harry sat in a stunned silence. After a few seconds Fleur continued to explain.

“There are problems though. We need to consummate the bond, before it overcomes us.”

“What?” asked a confused Harry. Outside the room understanding dawned on Tracey, she sank to her knees, sobbing quietly. Daphne kept her ear pressed against the door, not fully comprehending what this meant.

“We need to have sex, Harry” exclaimed an exasperated Fleur. “If we don’t we lose our magic and then we die.”

“What about Daphne and Tracey?” asked Harry. He had been surprised at how close he had become to the two girls recently: he almost thought he could love them.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” said Fleur quietly. “They are human and as such, cannot cope with the strains the bond would place on them. If you were to do anything with them the bond would form. It would kill them.”

At this Harry broke down, “There must be some way around it.” Tears leapt unbidden to his eyes.

“I’m sorry Harry. The strength required for the bond is too mush for the human mind. It would collapse.” She walked slowly towards Harry and sat down beside him, pulling him into a hug. He rested his head on her shoulder and he let the tears fall. Outside the room, Tracey and Daphne cried on each others shoulders.

*

The next couple of days passed slowly in Potter Hall. The teenagers stayed in their rooms and seemed to cry until their tears ran dry. Harry and Fleur spent a lot of time together; they talked for hours about almost every topic. They spoke of their dreams and hopes for the future and of plans so that Harry could destroy Voldemort. They tried to guess what the power he knows not is and they talked about each other.

During these conversations Harry started to feel guilty. He couldn’t force himself to choose between Fleur and Daphne and Tracey. He was attracted to all three; each was special to him in a different way. For Tracey it was her level headedness and understanding; Daphne was smart and had a good sense of humour; and Fleur was gentle and compassionate. Harry knew he would eventually choose Fleur over the other two. Every time he saw her she appeared paler than the last time; she looked like a ghost of her former self and Harry knew he was the same.

It was only on the third day that Harry convinced himself to do what he knew he would. That night he took Fleur to bed. At first the use of so much energy nearly drained him, but later, as both reached the height of their pleasure at the same time a bright light appeared on both of their chests. The light appeared to grow from within them; the twin beams of light moved slowly together and once they joined Harry felt a rush of emotion. He felt joy, happiness and hope at once. He instantly felt more alive than he ever had before; he felt nearly complete. There were still gaps, but the sensations only strengthened his resolve to help Daphne and Tracey. He didn’t know how, but he would find a way.

Fleur sensed Harry’s emotions and realised that he was thinking about the other two girls. She felt his longing and desperation. She felt his love for the three of them and knew that she would help Harry. These feelings gave hope to both of them and without saying anything both knew exactly how the other felt: they would support each other in whatever they did. They would be there for guidance and hope: a beacon to each other for all that was good in their world.

Almost simultaneously they started to talk. This caused them to laugh: it felt good to laugh after so much misery.

“Ladies first,” said Harry.

“I don’t know what it is,” replied Fleur, “I can feel your love for Daphne and Tracey, and your need to help them. I just want to promise that I will do everything that I can to help you and them.”

“I know, I could tell. I… thank you Fleur, my fleur de la cour.”

“That’s dreadful.”

“You know you love it.”

Both laughed again.

“Harry,” said Fleur, after a comfortable, but short silence, “I didn’t know the bond would be this strong. I can already sense your emotions well enough to understand what you are trying to communicate. It’s a bit… overwhelming.”

Harry just held Fleur close to him, muttering words of love. He could tell the strength of the bond worried Fleur, even to the point of scaring her. The bond between them didn’t create false feelings; it just caused what was there to grow quicker than it normally would. The love shared by Harry and Fleur was real; both realised it.

“Thank you, Harry.”

“It’s no problem. C’mon lets get some sleep.”

Fleur wrapped her arms around Harry and rested her head on his shoulder. Within moments they were both asleep.

*

The next morning Harry awoke rejuvenated, he looked round the room to see Fleur standing naked, trying to choose what to wear. He sat watching her for a moment, before, without turning around she spoke.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Come over here and help me pick what I’ll wear.”

“Why?” complained Harry, but even as he said it he stood and started approaching her. He stopped when he was behind her.

“So I can look good of course.”

“But then I wouldn’t be able to do this,” said Harry flirtatiously. He started softly kissing her neck, right behind her ear. He had overheard Seamus telling Dean that some girls liked that, and apparently fleur was one of those girls.

“Didn’t you get enough last night?” moaned Fleur. “I’m not complaining though.”

“Last night was just sex.”

“Just sex? What is better than sex?” asked Fleur. She was a veela, a highly sexually being and, as such, didn’t believe there could be anything better.

“I wanted to make love to you,” said Harry; he had a grin on his face.

“Your really cheesy Harry, you know that,” stated Fleur.

“I’ve yet to here you complain,” said Harry between kisses. He wrapped his arms around Fleur’s stomach as she moaned. He inched his hands upwards, towards her breasts and cupped them in his hands. They weren’t big, but they weren’t small either; they were still well supported without the looseness that comes with age. He kneaded them and Fleur moaned again.

“Don’t stop.”

Harry didn’t intend to. He slowly raised his hands higher, feeling the French veela’s stiff, and highly sensitive, nipples. He lazily flicked and played with them as Fleur started grinding her hips against his rapidly hardening cock. She could feel it growing between the cheeks of her ass and knew that his ministrations were having a similar action on her.

“Do you enjoy this Harry?” she teased, pulling away slightly.

Harry pulled her back to him, saying “Very much.” He then slowly moved down her back, covering every centimetre of skin with kisses along the way, until he was kneeling down behind Fleur. He released Fleur’s nipples and trailed his hands downwards, passed her thighs, all the way down to her feet, never touching her shaved pussy.

He could smell Fleur’s arousal, and once his hands had reached her feet she turned round; a pleading look in her eyes and in Harry’s head. Harry just shook his head: not yet. He desperately wanted to take her, but knew that the longer he teased her, the more intense her orgasm would be: another tip from the Irish man.

Instead he leaned forward, cautiously licking the lips of Fleur’s beautiful pussy. He had heard that it tasted fishy, but the taste surprised him. Fleur actually tasted slightly sweet: he liked it. He heard Fleur moan in pleasure and took it as a sign to continue. As he licked a small hard nub, slightly above her opening, the French veela’s moans grew louder. Recognising it as the clit, Harry bit down softly on it and flicked it with his tongue.

“Harry!” yelled Fleur, her muscles contracting as she had an orgasm. Harry felt Fleur’s thighs tighten round his head as she screamed his name and kept working at the small nub. After a few seconds Fleur’s legs released him as she slumped against the wall, breathing heavily.

“That was amazing Harry, where did you learn that?” she gasped.

“Beginner’s luck” replied Harry.

“Sweet Morgana. Just give me a second. I’m too sensitive for anything right now.”

Harry resumed kissing Fleur’s neck; he felt her pulse accelerating as he did so. At the same time he felt her tits, not touching her nipples. Once Fleur’s breathing rate had decreased he heard her speak.

“Now, Harry, I’m ready.” They both felt the lust in their emotional links as Fleur spoke. Both really wanted what was about to happen. The first time was just to complete the bond; this time was for pleasure.

Harry picked Fleur up and she squealed with surprise, but quickly recovered. Reaching down she grasped Harry’s rock hard penis and lined it up with her opening. As she wrapped her legs around him, Harry gently lowered Fleur onto his cock, pressing her back against the wall to use as support. With every thrust he gathered speed, until he could go no faster. Fleur felt every lightning-like thrust; she felt her pelvis arching higher and higher. She had never felt so full! She heard herself screaming: louder and louder, in time with the powerful thrusting.

Harry was in heaven: Fleur was so tight. He heard himself getting closer and sped up even more. Fleur’s screams became louder, until her orgasm swept over her like a wave, carrying her away. She heard herself screaming in pleasure, but Harry kept on pumping: he knew he was close. And then Harry’s yells mixed in with Fleur’s as he came. He staggered back to the bed, before collapsing backwards and allowing Fleur to roll off him.

They lay in bed, recovering, for a few minutes, before Fleur rose unsteadily to her feet. She could feel Harry’s sperm dripping out of her vagina and the scent reached her nostrils.

“Sweet Morgana, that was unbelievable,” exclaimed Fleur. “I’m going to have another shower.” Harry smiled and stood up, intending to follow her. “Alone,” the veela added to a disappointed Harry.

“We can have another round later Harry” said Fleur. That cheered Harry up.

*

Freshly showered and dressed, Harry Potter ambled downstairs, towards the kitchen for breakfast – or was it lunch he thought. He decided to settle on brunch until he knew the time.

As he stepped into kitchen he saw Fleur, who was obviously embarrassed, sitting at the table with her mother. Both woman looked up as Harry entered. Feeling the unasked question through the mental bonds Fleur spoke first.

“We forgot silencing charms Harry,” she explained.

“Damn,” swore Harry.

“Damn, indeed, Mr. Potter. Because of your … antics … Liv and Mark had to explain what sex was to Emily this morning. And then, when you started again, Gabrielle said that it sounded like fun and asked if she could join you!” Mme Delacour was not pleased.

Harry mumbled an apology.

“You better be, young man. The noises coming from that room… I would avoid Davide for a while. Anyway, you should probably talk to Daphne and Tracey at some point as well. I think that upset them even more. They’re up in their room.”

Fleur rose to follow Harry, but Harry told her that he would do it himself: it was his mess and he would fix it.

He walked nervously towards the girls’ room. Honestly, he was scared, but the encouragement from Fleur from the link gave him strength. He knocked softly at the door.

“Go away!” came a voice from inside. Ignoring it, Harry pushed open the door.

“Didn’t you hear me, bastard? Fuck off!” shouted Daphne. Tracey was lying face down on the bed.

“I’m sorry,” said Harry quietly.

“Sorry isn’t good enough, Harry,” said Daphne aggressively.

“I’ll try to help find a way past the bond.”

“It doesn’t matter Harry, we heard. We wouldn’t survive it. Just go away and shag that slut of yours again,” Daphne replied. Her voice had lost the aggressiveness, but sounded monotonous, as if she was past caring. Harry ignored her and sat beside Daphne on the bed, wrapping her in his arms. She leaned against him and broke down.

“It’s so unfair,” she complained. “Everyone man I feel close to ends up being taken away from me.”

“It’s alright,” comforted Harry as he stroked her hair. “I know how you feel.”

“How could you? You have that whore; it sounded like you enjoyed that.”

“Everyone I have viewed as a parent is dead: my real parents; Sirius and I used to view Dumbledore as a grandparent, but he is dead to me as well.”

Daphne sniffed, “I’m sorry, Harry. It’s just -”

“Don’t worry. I know how you feel.”

“Thanks.”

After a short silence Harry heard the bed creak: neither Daphne nor he had moved, so it must have been Tracey.

“Do you really mean it?” she asked in a soft voice.

“What?”

“Do you really think there is some way around the bond?”

“I hope so, but we can find out.”

“Thank you Harry … and we’re sorry for treating you the way we did,” said Tracey.

Downstairs Fleur smiled; the girls weren’t angry towards Harry. She thought it was time to see how they felt about her. She approached the room cautiously, worrying about how the teens would react; she hadn’t talked to them much, but they had saved her from Malfoy when she was Triwizard champion. Harry liked them as well, so she thought it best to make an effort; at least they seemed nice.

As she got nearer the door she heard voices talking animatedly; they were trying to find a way round the bond, but from the frustration in their voices and Harry’s emotions she knew they were having no luck.

The voices stopped when she entered the room. There was an awkward silence. Fleur knew she should be the one to break it.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean for it to happen…”

The two teenage girls looked into her eyes: Fleur was telling the truth. It wasn’t some form of arcane veela ritual that she had undertaken; she honestly didn’t mean for it to happen. Fleur almost looked upset about it.

“It’s okay,” said Tracey.

“We believe you,” commented Daphne, who was struggling to hold back tears at the sight of Fleur.

“Thanks… and I’ll try to help as well. I’ll help find a way past the bond,” said Fleur. She could feel Harry’s love for the two girls in front of her and knew he would never be complete without them, but it was still difficult for her to say it as it meant admitting the fact that she couldn’t fully satisfy Harry to herself. At once she felt Harry’s emotions: she felt his love and respect for her, his gratitude and his joy.

*

For the next few hours the adults in the household tried to make arrangements for how they would get school books and how they would get to Hogwarts. Both would be dangerous. Meanwhile the teens struggled to figure out a way past the bond. Realising it was futile until they could research it further at Hogwarts they decided to explore the mansion.

They discovered all the bedrooms and bathrooms, as well as a training room, a duelling pit and a quidditch pitch. Near the end of the tour, as they were walking through the grounds, they came across the Potter cemetery. Organised in neat rows, each gravestone bore the Potter family crest, which was remarkably similar to the insignia on Harry’s swords. They thought that it was coincidence and searched for the more recent graves. Finally they found the graves of James and Lily Potter at the back. The girls gave Harry some space as he knelt on the ground and wept: he mourned not only for the parents he never knew, but also for the lives of everyone else whom Voldemort had killed. As he rose he promised himself and his parents that he would rid the world of evil: neither Voldemort nor Dumbledore would destroy people’s lives again.

He looked around him to find the girls; they were standing by an old stone building at the back of the graveyard. As Harry walked up to them the door opened: inside was dark. He could feel Fleur’s fear in the mental bond: it wasn’t particularly strong but it was there.

“What do you think, should we go in?” asked Harry.

“It opened as you approached,” reasoned Tracey.

“I don’t know… it’s seems scary,” said Daphne.

“Go on Harry, you’re obviously meant to,” argued Fleur.

“Here goes nothing.” Harry entered the room. Once he entered there was silence. Suddenly light flashed on and Harry had to blink. The girls entered behind him. Once Harry cleared his eyes he saw a long straight corridor, with a large, old door at the far end and portraits on either side. The one to his left spoke to him.

“Ah, we were wondering when you would arrive.”

“What?” questioned Harry. The picture had startled him.

“We could feel that the day was approaching; we just did not know when it would arrive. Your destiny awaits you. Enter the room at the end and it will give you a gift to help you along your path. All Potters do it at the age of magical maturity and your time has come.”

“A gift? What sort of gift?”

“For some it was an increase in their magic, others learned an arcane magic. Some, like your father, were granted the animagus ability: not the one that is taught, but the true ability, which lets you act in conjunction with the beast within. It is rarely the same for anyone and it depends on the choices you will have to make.”

Harry started to stride down the hall, but the painting had one last thing to say to him.

“A word of advice young one: do not let anyone but a Potter or a bonded enter that chamber. You do not know what will happen in there; you may be trapped for a few seconds, or maybe weeks, but someone who is neither Potter or bonded will surely die.”

That slowed Harry: the room was obviously powerful and ancient. Fleur could enter, but he would have to leave Tracey and Daphne outside. He wondered what his gift would be.

Saying goodbye to the teenage girls Harry and Fleur entered the chamber, which was shrouded in darkness.

“Be careful you two!” called Tracey.

“Yeah, and don’t take too long. We have to return to school!” joked Daphne.

Fleur shook her head, but Harry chuckled in amusement. Once they were in the door slammed shut behind them. They couldn’t see at all. They held each other close as fear started to creep up on them. Parts of the wall started to glow: they were runes; the walls of the room were covered in them. Harry and Fleur stood still and then it hit them: pain. Harry felt like he was under the cruciatus curse. From Fleur’s screams it was obvious that she felt the same way.

He dropped to his knees as images flashed before his eyes; he lost track of what he was seeing and was swept away by a vortex of pain and confusion. Then he fell into nothingness as he collapsed.

*

“‘Arry, ‘Arry, walk up,” said a voice which Harry recognised as Fleur’s. He felt her small hands shaking him gently.

“Alright, alright, I’m awake,” said Harry groggily. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. The runes starting glowing, then it hurt so much and images appeared in my mind. They were so confusing. We both collapsed after that. I woke up about five minutes and spent the time trying to wake you.”

“Right, that’s pretty much what happened to me. C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

Harry led the way to the door and pushed it open. He found Daphne and Tracey sleeping to the left of the door, just under a portrait. He glanced at the painting and gasped: it was his parents. James was standing with his arms around Lily’s shoulders and they were both smiling and waving at him; they looked proud of him. Harry had to find the spell which would allow them to speak; he wanted to talk to them, even if they were just images of the people they once were.

Fleur gently awoke the sleeping teens.

“Harry! Fleur! You’re alright! What happened in there? We couldn’t hear anything,” said Daphne.

Fleur retold the story quickly and asked the girls the time.

“It’s about half three in the morning,” said Tracey after glancing at her watch.

“Who cares about that?” asked Daphne, “What are the gifts you got?”

Harry and Fleur shared a glance. Harry just shrugged his shoulders and Fleur said that she didn’t know.

“Those visions will probably tell you, but until you work them out it might confuse you,” said Tracey.

“Bravo, young lady!” shouted the portrait that had spoken to them earlier. “You are indeed correct, and those are actually the exact words of dear Lily! Leave this place now, and decipher the riddle.”

*

A/N: So there is chapter seven. What do you think? Thanks for all the reviews that were posted. Anyone got any ideas about what the gifts will be, I’m pretty sure of what they will be, but if anyone suggests something good I will use theirs. Just please be fairly specific; I don’t want vague suggestions.

Thanks for reading
Concealed-Convict