Gabrielle (The Return of Voldemort)

One

 

Dear Harry,

 

Excuse me very much for my bad English. I come back to England August 1 and hope very much that I see you then. I cannot thank you enough for your bravery in the second task, my sister Gabrielle means much to me and I wish I could save her myself, but you did it anyway, though she was not your captive. Give a hello to your friends Ron and Harmony, who I think Viktor invited to his house in Bulgaria for the month of June, I hope she enjoys it there.

 

Amitiés,

 

Ton amie,

 

Fleur Delacour

 

Having consulted an old French-English school dictionary of Aunt Petunia's that had been lying around, and discovering that 'amitiés' meant ‘regards’, and 'ton amie' translated as 'your friend', which suitably relieved Harry, he began to look over Fleur's letter again.

 

It was certainly interesting. Though her words were not always perfectly chosen, her 'bad' English was remarkably good; he at least understood what she was trying to say. He grinned upon her mentioning Ron and 'Harmony'; Hermione would most certainly not like that little mistake. Not, of course, that Harry was going to tell her. He didn't see the harm in telling Ron though, so long as he didn't go overboard and gloat about it to Hermione. He somehow sensed that Hermione hadn't too high an opinion of Fleur - odd, in a way, as she had enthused about France and French people in general since her holiday there before the start of their third year at Hogwarts.

 

Throwing away thoughts of Hermione, as they were only confusing him further, Harry reached under the loose floorboard and fingered his Invisibility Cloak. He sighed. Just to be sure it was there. Ever since the rise of Voldemort, he had been anxious for his own safety. Maybe Voldemort could see through Invisibility Cloaks, but it was the only thing that had belonged to Harry's father that Harry himself retained. Harry's father, James, and his mother, Lily, had been murdered by Voldemort when Harry had been just one year old, and Voldemort had attempted to kill Harry too, but his Avada Kedavra curse had rebounded onto Voldemort himself, leaving him bodyless and for the most part, powerless.

 

However, this year, with a cunning plan that involved a Death Eater posing as a teacher at Hogwarts, Voldemort had ensured that Harry won the Triwizard Tournament, in which he had competed against Fleur, and Viktor Krum (whom she had mentioned in her letter)... and Cedric. Voldemort had killed Cedric, with whom Harry had tied in first place, and had taken blood from Harry in order to get his body back. Harry still felt a chill when he even touched over events of that night. He had got away in the end, due (in part) to the help of sceptres of his parents, who had erupted from Voldemort's wand. He had grabbed Cedric's body, Summoned the Portkey and returned to Hogwarts. Harry couldn't help thinking that he had been extremely lucky.

 

Why me? Why me? he thought to himself, pacing around the room. Why did Cedric have to die? Why was I able to live? It's not fair. Behind him the handsome barn owl who had delivered Fleur's letter hooted. Harry recalled himself. "She wants a reply, right?" he asked the owl, who just hooted again in reply. Feeling that was as good a response as he was going to get, Harry hastily grabbed a quill and parchment and wrote:

Dear Fleur,

I'm looking forward to seeing you when you come to England. Where do you want us to meet up? My friend Hermione is fine, as far as I know she did not go to Bulgaria, she has not sent me word yet. Ron is well also. I hope your sister is well.

Your friend,

Harry Potter.

Harry felt a little awkward signing his full name, but then Fleur had signed hers, so he wasn't going to go against that. He folded the paper, sealed it and placed it under the barn owl's beak, who hooted happily again and took flight against the navy early-morning sky. It was two in the morning. At the Dursleys' house, Harry usually slept by day and stayed up at night. He could do things that were ordinary to him, such as send owl post, when the Dursleys were asleep, so they couldn't possibly object, and when they were awake, he slept, so he ended up avoiding them the majority of the time, which Harry liked best.

Hedwig, Harry's own snowy owl, was out delivering a message, and hopefully bringing one back with her too. It had not been a word of a lie when Harry had written to Fleur that he hadn't heard from Hermione about Bulgaria, in fact he hadn't heard from her since school had broken up. He was getting worried and so had sent yet another note to Hermione. If this one didn't get a response, he would write to Ron about it, and see if he had had better luck in getting in contact with her. He stared out of the window, his keen eyes suddenly noticing a small shadow and a distant hoot. Fleur's owl? But no, the hoot was getting closer, Fleur's owl wouldn't be returning, would it? Maybe it was Hedwig, with a reply from Hermione? Harry got no more chance to think, however, as a furry thing suddenly flew into his face.

"Get off me, aaargh!" Harry tried to bat it away, but from the constant hooting, guessed what, or rather who, it was. "Get off, Pigwidgeon, just get off!"

Pigwidgeon hooted at the sound of his name and duly landed on top of Hedwig's cage, but not for long. Before Harry had had time to seize Ron's letter from him, he was off again, flying around the room.

"Pigwidgeon, give me the letter!" Harry cried in frustration.

 

Finally, seeing as the owl wouldn't budge, Harry seized his Firebolt and kicked off into the air, his head narrowly missing the ceiling (A good thing I missed it, the Dursleys mightn't sleep through that noise, thought Harry to himself). In a matter of seconds he had seized Pigwidgeon, flapping about helplessly, and retrieved the letter, before landing neatly on his bed. Unfolding the letter, he scanned it briefly before reading what Ron had to say :

Dear Harry,

 

Hope you're alright, I'm still a bit miffed that Dumbledore wouldn't let you come to stay with us. Personally I can't see why you have to stay with those bloody mean Muggles when you could have a really good time here. Percy keeps saying "it's for the best", but what would he know.

 

Bill's home by the way. Gringotts have finished their restructuring of their Egyptian branch and they need extra cashiers in Diagon Alley, so he's working there now. Fred and George love the idea that Bill is working with goblins, especially as a cashier! Makes a change from curse-breaking, I suppose. You could say he really sticks out at work.

 

Percy's not too happy as he's just a normal office assistant again at the Department of Magical Co-operation. Ha ha ha. The twins are re-planning Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes now, but with Lee Jordan in tow as well. They've made sugar mice that turn into real ones when you scream at it. Wouldn't I love to set one on Malfoy.

Have you heard from Hermione? She hasn't written at all, it's a bit weird. Well, tell me how you're coping. Mum's ready to send lots of cakes and stuff to you, only she doesn't think Pig and Errol are up to carrying it all, and Percy refuses to lend us Hermes, the git.

Ron

 

 

Harry laughed as he read this, but the final paragraph worried him a little. Apart from the fact that Pigwidgeon and Errol could in all probability die from exhaustion carrying food to him, there was the small matter of Hermione not writing. Despite himself, Harry began to feel slightly worried about it.