Champions

The Howler

Since her talk with Hermione, Fleur was feeling much more comfortable. It took most of a sleepless night to sort it out, but in the end, all that mattered was that Hermione was correct: if there was one thing that Harry lacked in life, it was love and affection. And as she watched him more closely in the intervening days, she began to see the girl's other point, too.

He was exceedingly reserved even with his friends, including Hermione – who, near as Fleur could tell, truly was his best friend in the entire world – but with Fleur it was different. There was a softness about him when he looked at her, a tenderness that was otherwise well hidden. She had somehow penetrated a wall that even Harry himself probably didn't realize that he had built.

The result of this discovery was much more obvious flirting on her part, which he did not seem to mind, even if he was unsure how to respond to it. He was learning, though, and even responded in kind on occasion, which made her smile every time it happened. He was a natural charmer, and not one of those boys who would go through several girls before he figured out how to treat them.

Fleur was currently at the Gryffindor table, which had become her home at Hogwarts, listening to yet another argument between Ron and Hermione. The twins were even scoring it, as had become commonplace, much to Ron's disgust and everyone else's delight. It made an otherwise obnoxious event at least somewhat more bearable.

Neville and Harry were ignoring them, chatting quietly about Potions of all things. It sounded like Neville would do much better in that class – which was now being taught by Dumbledore himself, to Harry's displeasure – but she could not otherwise discern the nature of their talk. She smiled softly as she watched them; Neville seemed a much better friend than Ron.

Just after the meal was served, a short redhead approached the table. She was quite pretty: her long hair fell in a plait down her back, her rosy cheeks spoke of good humor, and she had a lithe, well-shaped form. Fleur suspected she could have her pick of whatever boy she wanted, and wondered after the shy expression she was wearing.

"Erm, Harry?" she called quietly.

Harry looked up from his conversation, and a small, genuine smile lit his face; he obviously liked this girl. Fleur had noticed that, whether he talked to them or not, he knew almost everyone in the castle. And for those who he genuinely liked, he always had that friendly smile ready.

"Hi, Susan," he greeted warmly.

"Hi," she smiled back. "Auntie wanted me to deliver a message. She said she couldn't get ahold of your guardian yesterday."

Harry indicated the spot next to Hermione that Neville had earlier vacated so they could talk. "Have a seat," he offered politely. "Erm, I think you know everyone but Fleur. Fleur, this is Susan Bones."

Susan smiled hesitantly, and Fleur gave her a warm one in return. She was not accustomed to showing her true feelings – even when she thought someone was nice – so it actually took effort for her to do.

"Bonjour," she offered kindly. "Your Aunt is Amelia Bones, per'aps?"

Susan blushed lightly and nodded, and then her gaze tracked back to Harry. "She wanted me to tell you that Snape's trial is set for the second," she informed him. "She might need you to testify, but she doesn't know yet."

Harry's smile turned grim and evil. "If it's against Snivellus?" he mused. "She only has to ask."

"You and most of the rest of the school," grinned Susan – and then she ducked her head as though only just realizing who she was talking so openly to.

Fleur examined her critically; she was obviously starstruck, but also was making a supreme effort not to be. It gave one the sense that she knew Harry in passing, but not well – and that she genuinely liked him as a person, not as The Boy Who Lived. Fleur appreciated that, and so decided to put her more at ease; the more friends Harry had, the better.