Loyalty and Honour

 Want to see extended chapters or just support the author?

buymeacoffee.com/fanfictionforge. 

Enjoy reading.

------------------------------------------

The few visitors to the Hangman's Asylum never paid much attention to their neighbours - one of the rules firmly and quickly hammered into these places stated: "less you know, better chance of living to a ripe old age." So this time, too, the people sitting under several layers of protective spells at the far table attracted no one's attention; the Dark Alley dwellers had more important interests of their own.

 - So you say you can be useful to our cause, Mr..." The last name remained unnamed, but the man with several strands of red hair tucked poorly into his hood didn't seem to mind.

 - I hear you need new supporters," the redhead shook his head. - And I'm on good enough terms with your... opponents.

 - And it doesn't bother you that after our imminent victory, most of your... colleagues will turn into fertiliser for grave trees? - The black-robed, hooded man grinned.

 - Not at all. - A crooked smile curved the lips of the man seeking the Lord's service.

 Standing behind the red-haired man, a powerful man with bulging muscles in his arms and chest, obeyed the imperious gesture of his seated colleague and relaxed and sat down at the table as well.

 - In that case, my future... companion," the black-clad man said softly, "you will have to work hard to earn the Lord's favour. But the reward will exceed your wildest expectations.

 - What do I have to do?

 - Nothing for now. Stay where you are, listen carefully. And take occlumency seriously - your mental shields are weak and unreliable. When you're needed, you'll be contacted.

 - And the mark? - The red-haired man asked, eliciting a growl from one of the men's chests.

 - You'll only get the mark if you prove your loyalty to the Lord," the recruiter said. - After participating in a combat operation, you will be able to get the Lord's mark on your body.

 - Good," the redhead stood up, adjusting his hood and tucking his messy hair deeper into the darkness beneath the cloth. - It was a pleasure talking to you, my lord.

 - Likewise," the recruiter replied, but as soon as the redhead was out the tavern door, the man wiped his right hand with squeamishness.

 - Blood traitors," Lucius Malfoy hissed, still cringing at having to shake hands with such scum, "your turn will come soon enough.

 Fenrir Blue, who was acting as the intimidating factor in the meeting, growled in agreement, eating the poorly cooked bloody meat with both cheeks.

18 July 1995 Delacourt Manor.

Fleur and I spent most of the time leading up to the ball with the Delacourt couple, one or two of us going over the layout of the event, showing me the participants' collodographs, their profiles, and what to expect from each of them. Fleur had to help her parents at the ball, too, and she was wrinkling her eyebrows tensely, which sometimes created an adorable crease on her forehead that I wanted to kiss. At times I wanted to howl and go smashing mannequins in the training room-the guest list seemed endless, and their interactions with each other made me despair. But I needed a reputation, I needed the respect of all these people, so that a year from now they would not be able to reproach Delacourt for marrying his daughter to a man unworthy of her beauty and position in society.

At last, on the evening of the nineteenth of July, having probably repeated for the hundredth time all the pirouettes of the opening dance with madame Henriette, I was recognised as "a not unreliable young gentleman who can still feel the charm of real flight in the dance," and was released till to-morrow. My head was slightly buzzing with fatigue and the memory stimulants I had taken for three days. I would have to drink a battery of potions for the night, which would relieve me of the rather unhealthy after-effects of the stimulants and give me a good night's sleep and energy for the next long and hard day.

Jean-Claude and Marie had left at lunchtime for some magical resort in the South of France, where they planned to stay until morning. As I understood from the politician's hints, he himself did not abuse elixirs to be in shape during a long exhausting social event, but preferred to use the life-giving power of nature itself. The water of the springs of the spa had a similar effect to my potions, but without any harmful effects for a man of his advanced age. So it was just Fleur, Gabrielle, the four guards - Jean-Claude had doubled the number of people on shift after the attack - the House elf, and me until morning.

Glancing at the clock in my room, I found that it was already nine o'clock in the evening. Summoning the House elf, and ordering him a juice with a couple of cakes and fruit, I wondered how my faithful Dobby, who had stayed at Hogwarts, was doing. But, to my great regret, bringing him here would mean revealing my hiding place, for for all his good points, the elf wasn't particularly clever. Apparently he hadn't really grown up yet, as I knew from Miss-I-know-it-all, elves mature rather slowly, and Dobby was quite young by the standards of their people.

The elf bowed and set down a tray on a table laden with pitchers and plates that exuded the unmistakable aroma of baked goods and fresh fruit. I thanked my faithful servant and let him go, and began to eat.

Suddenly, a light knock shook the silence that had fallen upon the house. It was at my door. When I opened the door, I was surprised to find Fleur standing behind it, dressed in a simple skirt and loose shirt, her feverishly burning eyes once again making my heart ache. As she slipped inside, she used her wand to cast noise-absorbing and locking spells on the door, surprising me even more.

- Hello, love. - The word came out much easier than it had the first time.

- I missed you. - With those words, Fleur pressed herself against me with all her supple body, and I could feel her heat through the thin fabric of her shirt.

My hands picked up this fragile treasure that seemed so light in my arms. But in my condition-the heart thudding in my chest, my breathing quickening-I could have rolled mountains without noticing it.

A moment later, the two of us were snuggled in the same chair in the corner of my room, opposite the small, almost decorative fireplace, in which a small flame was already burning. Fleur's head was nestled on my shoulder, tickling my cheek and face with her fluffy mane of hair. I covered her naked legs with the blanket I'd pulled from the wardrobe, and stroked her fragile back, running my palm over the small bones of the vertebrae that protruded beneath the delicate skin, making the girl's body - I could feel it - shiver. A phrase from the code of French pure-blooded families about lovemaking before an engagement was in my head, which my intuition had treacherously planted in my head. This line of the code did not promise anything good to a girl, as well as to a boy, so the year ahead of me seemed unbearably long.

Fleur, apparently, understood the reason for my changed mood, and calmed down a little, not provoking me quite frankly.

- I noticed you and Dad exchanging glances today. - She said a little grumpily.

- Well... I guess it's easier for girls to notice than it is for us. Your mother also noticed Jean-Claude's change in our relationship.

- What did you and Jean-Claude agree on? - Sharp claws gently captured my right ear.

- I think he understood everything, and he was interested in the seriousness of my intentions. - I hesitated meaningfully.

- And you...?

- Do you think I could have answered him something else, my love? - I buried my face in the fragrant hair, closing my eyes. The claws on my ear loosened.

Fleur, as if determined to do something, moved from the chair to my lap, and the next kiss was the most wonderful of my life. The only thing that somewhat marred the heaven I found myself in was a certain discomfort caused by the proximity of a hot girl's body... A rather... substantial discomfort, I'd say, and I really didn't want Fleur to notice it. Curled up in my lap, the blanketed girl closed her eyes and seemed to doze off. My... problem was bothering me more and more. Quietly, I drew my wand and pointed it at my leg, using only my lips to cast the pain spell I'd learnt with Ciaran. My leg felt like it was scalded for a moment, but I felt better.

A couple of hours later, Fleur woke up and left, giving me another tender kiss goodbye. We would have stood by the door to my room for a long time, but she slipped out, leaving me with a slight regret. At the same time, I was well aware that if I didn't want to cause her any unnecessary trouble, I was in for a long wait.

- Monsieur, I see that by some unknown means you got rid of your terrible scar, literally resisting all my attempts to hide it! - Already prepared for the onslaught of the multicoloured whirlwind called Miriam, I deftly intercepted the stylist's thin hand and brought it to my lips.

 - Miss Miriam, I must once again express my admiration for your skill, and I have no doubt that you will make me unrecognisable today!

 - Monsieur, you flatter me," she smiled, but my words had done their work, and the frenzied whirlwind of activity that had come at me turned into a light breeze, allowing me to sit down in the chair myself. - 'Today we're just going to try and make you look great.

 'A promising and very intimidating start,' a thought flashed through my mind. - If all she was going to do last time was change her appearance..."

 - Yeah, I see you've solved the problem with your eyesight. Excellent! - one box of coloured lenses went into an elegant leather valise, and another box of simple lenses without diopters was born. - If you would solve the problem of your hair, monsieur, it hurts me to look at it.....

 The girl looked at my stubbornly stubbornly resisting the styling of my slightly overgrown hair with obvious frustration. Finally, angry, she splashed some sizzling elixir on my long-suffering hair, which had just refused to be styled. And for the first time in my life, I felt my hair moving on my head. It made me shudder.

 - I recommend a light meal after you've finished your meeting, monsieur," the girl slid a mirror under my nose. - Growing hair requires a lot of nutrients.

 I looked at what was happening in shock - my hair had already stretched almost to the palm of my hand and was still growing.

 A new vial that stopped the effects of the previous potion. My hair was frozen at shoulder height, making me look remotely like some sort of stately aristocrat. Miriam, who had quickly styled my hair and shortened the ends, had tied a leather band around my forehead to hold it tightly in place. The Runes that adorned the strip of leather flashed brightly and went out, hiding it from view. I felt the lightest touch of that rather silly artefact on my aura-the ribbon was clearly using my own powers.

 - It'll last through the night, and then it won't be necessary," Miriam shrugged, catching my questioning gaze. - Some aristocrats use such artefacts, so no one is surprised by them. Most people prefer visible jewellery, though.

 - I shook my head, getting used to the hair that had grown back. It's not bad, but it's a little unusual.

 After a while of fiddling with my hands, Miriam finally announced that she had done everything she could. When I went to the mirror, I was pleasantly surprised at my not-so-attractive appearance - the long hair was the missing touch that made me even harder to recognise, and at the same time there was an elusive resemblance to James Britton.

 Miriam, after listening to my confused thanks, rushed off to the waiting Delacourts, with whom her colleagues were already working, leaving me alone.

 A glance at my watch showed that it was still quite a long time before three o'clock in the afternoon, when the first guests were to arrive. The next two hours, in which the stylists would have to perfect the Delacourt family's look to an unattainable perfection, belonged to me alone.

 When I got to my room, I checked the gift for Marie Delacourt, a delicate gold brooch jewel in the shape of a blossoming rose. James had sent me the first written report of his work on the Potter family accounts-the first money he'd earned from his various ventures had gone into the main and children's accounts, improving somewhat after the payment to Cimus. The report came with a reasonable invoice for his activities, which I signed and sent to the Paris Gringotts.

 I decided to spend my free time thinking about the year ahead of me... Studying at Beauxbaton, for all its advantages, greatly increased the chances of revealing my location to Dumbledore and company. But the opportunity to make useful acquaintances among the offspring of French families, whose business and friendly relations could give me a lot. It was just a pity that Fleur wouldn't be studying anymore - the girl who had completed all seven years of her studies this year would be with me only on short weekends. Sirius sent a letter informing me of the first people to join our cause - Alastor Moody, which pleased me greatly, and three English noble families.

 I should probably make contact with Neville and Luna - those two seemed the sanest of the Hogwarts students, and both had their own reasons for not turning me in to the Headmaster. Neville for the fact that his parents had gone to St Mungo's ward for the hopeless without Dumbledore's protection. Luna, on the other hand... Luna is Luna, and that says it all. Even if Dumbledore gets into her mind, it's unlikely he'll get out of there in one piece, if Lovegood's mind is anything like her words and actions. And if I manage to convince them of the rightness of my decision - then I'll not only have my eyes and ears at Hogwarts, but friends I can rely on. Neville is a descendant of an ancient, powerful family, and the words 'loyalty' and 'honour' are not empty words to him, and when he learns of the Weasleys' betrayal, he will be furious. And Luna - Luna had always seemed to me capable of loyal friendship, and had always thought independently of other people's opinions.

 A thick, heavy ringing that echoed throughout the manor interrupted my musings. Jean-Claude Delacourt was gathering the family members in the main hall, where the guests were about to enter through the specially opened front doors. Greeted at the entrance by house elves, members of French aristocratic families, representatives of the Ministry's powerful political factions, owners of large businesses, and others walked past us into the ballroom. The huge room, enlarged by spatial magic, was decorated in classical Greek style, with many armchairs and tables with drinks and various snacks around the perimeter. Tall snow-white columns propping up the ceiling, marble statues standing in the gaps - copies of the works of great sculptors, - wide magic windows in the ceiling imitating the sun rays falling from above, a lot of torches in the walls, the floor made of slabs of polished white and grey stone. And all this splendour was complemented by magical winds walking under the ceiling of the hall, giving the atmosphere some freshness and novelty, somewhat diluting the general austerity of the hall. Dressed in Greek togas for the occasion, house elves scurried around the building, providing the guests with drinks and food.

 Fey, in a light blue dress that matched my grey camisole, seemed like a fairy who had descended into the world of mere mortals, and only her mother could rival her in beauty and grace. To me, though, Fleur was the most beautiful creature in the world. When I looked at her long flowing curls, I wanted to bury my face in them and breathe in the girl's scent. A golden unicorn on a chain was nestled in the dimple between her collarbones.

 - Lady Madeleine, it is a pleasure to welcome you. - Marie nodded at the austere, gaunt lady in silks and silver who entered the hall, leaning on the arm of her husband, a trim old man with auroric bearing and full grey hair. - Lord Gedeon, my respects.

 The man bowed to the mistress of the mansion, kissing the outstretched hand gently.

 - 'Madame Delacourt, you grow more charming every year. Jean-Claude, glad to see you again.

 At that moment I intercepted them, and as soon as Marie introduced me to the guests, I led them into the hall, trying to keep them occupied with conversation, frantically remembering the Delacourts' three-day instructions.

 Ciaran and a surprisingly well-dressed James entered the hall next, dressed in a strict green camisole, his combed hair falling in waves against the embroidered fabric of his collar. With a demonstrative hug from me and a kiss on Marie's hand, Jean-Claude's friends made their way into the hall to seek entertainment on their own.

 - Jean-Claude, Marie, it's so good to see you! - The murmuring voice of the familiar Madame Maxime, the Beauxbaton's director, reached me from afar.

 - Madame Maxime, may I present to you the nephew of my old friend, Harold Britton," Jean-Claude kissed the graceful hand of the half-giantess without bowing his head.

 - Oh, it's nice to have the magically gifted scions of noble families in my school," the woman laughed, examining me carefully, apparently diagnosing my level of magic, as I realised.

 Taking me under her arm, though the two of us looked quite comical - the tall headmistress of Beauxbaton and me not even reaching her shoulder, Madame Maxime headed into the hall, asking me questions about my magic. Given the somewhat peculiar direction these questions had taken, Madame was clearly aware of my two run-ins with the Riordan family.

 Turning back to the Delacourt couple still standing at the entrance, I saw the new guests walk past them into the hall-husband and wife, surrounded by three daughters of varying ages, casting curious glances at me from beneath long lashes. I was mentally glad that Fleur had seen them off.

 I realised, however, from the glances they were throwing at me, that there was another, unknown to me, implication of my role in the ball. Though even my newfound intuition had not yet helped me to connect the role of assistant to the ball's hosts and the glances directed at me.

 As I approached the Delacours, I looked up at the marble staircase where the next guests were ascending and froze in surprise. Delacour Sr. followed my gaze and looked quite puzzled as well. A tall man draped in austere black robes and a woman in a bright scarlet dress. Aurelius and Arrataia Cimus. To the clatter of the staff in the black mage's hand, the couple traversed the stairs, bowing graciously to Marie Delacourt and wishing her well. Arrataia, like me, was clearly wearing contact lenses, at least her eyes looked perfectly normal, and her long ears were hidden in a high hairdo, from which only a single curved strand of hair dangled, falling to her chiselled neck.

 I intercepted this pair of unexpected guests as well, taking them to one of the seats of honour. The surprised looks of Jean-Claude and Marie accompanied us all the way - the Cimuses clearly rarely attended such social events.

 - We thought that with your appearance in France, Lord..." Aurelius looked at me expressively.

 - Mr Britton, Harold Britton. - I understood the unspoken question.

 - So, Mr Britton," the mage smiled slightly. - We have decided that there will be a lot of interesting things connected with your appearance in France, and my wife is very curious.

 Arrataia laughed charmingly, showing her white, even teeth.

 - Mr Britton, I take this opportunity to thank you for your... message. I see you took my advice, too. - The girl looked at me slyly.

 - Thank you again, and it is a pleasure to meet you again. - I bowed to the Tsimus.

 I understood that the conversation with the Tsimus, who had ostentatiously singled out my modest person among the other guests, had not gone unnoticed, and now the aristocrats were considering what kind of business might connect the heir of one of the Britton branches with an ancient and very influential family of black magicians. After the ball, it would be necessary to discuss it with Jean-Claude, I thought.

 I had missed the moment when all the expected guests had arrived and the stream of singles, couples, and families had finally dried up. Jean-Claude and Marie, smiling cheerfully at the people gathered in the hall, made their way to the centre of the room, followed by Fleur and me.

 The musicians sitting on a separate balcony, having received a signal from Jean-Claude, played the first melody. The light in the hall, obeying the magic of the elves, dimmed somewhat. The guests, who had not moved to the centre of the hall from the very beginning, turned towards the hosts of the ball as if on cue. Marie put her gloved hand on her husband's shoulder, giving his other hand to her broad palm, and the first dance - a slow, sensual waltz - began.

 I watched the two figures in the gleam of gold and jewels, slowly circling the gloomy hall, accompanied by the light from the witch crystals embedded in the ceiling, like sunbeams from behind the clouds. The light tap of their heels on the stone almost drowned out Jean-Claude's soft footsteps; illuminated by the magical light, they seemed to see no one in the hall, absorbed in each other. I wondered if I would retain the same strong feeling for Fleur after many years, and I envied the politician who had managed to do so.

 The Strauss waltz, which replaced the opening tune, brought Fleur and me out into the floodlit area. My fingers gently but firmly held the girl's palm, while my other hand rested on her back, hidden beneath the thin silk.

 My dream had come true - I was dancing with my favourite girl in a huge ballroom, holding her hand. The only thing I regretted was that this holiday was not the day of our engagement, which was still a whole year away. And I thanked Heaven that those gathered were unable to read my thoughts as I moved swiftly - there was too much in them for Fleur alone to hear through our bond. A step, another step, a U-turn without breaking eye contact, feeling my slender body flex beneath the thin silk of my dress.

 Some barrier that had been erected in my distant childhood by the Dursleys' endless bullying was crumbling inside me. The affectionate warmth coming to me through the contact of their hands seemed to erase the bitterness of loss that had filled my soul for fourteen years.

 A step, a turn, and the fingers that trustingly clutched my palm burned with fire. Only the light tapping of Fleur and Marie's shoes on the polished stone floor interrupted the music that enveloped us. Fleur's silky hair fluttered slightly in the flow of the witchy wind that had suddenly come down to us from the upper tier of the hall.

 The music gradually increased in speed, and I felt that I was gradually approaching my limit - a little more, and I would not be able to keep up the increasing pace of movement without mistakes. But the glowing face of the most beautiful girl in the world gave me strength. Magic was awakening in the depths of my soul, responding to the sound of the music leading us. A stream of magic flowed through our joined hands to Fleur, enveloping her in a shimmering halo of power, and the same glowing haze, barely visible in the stream of rays falling from the ceiling, surrounded me. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a slight look of surprise on the faces of some of the more observant mages closest to me, as they realised what forces were in motion.

 At last the last sounds of the waltz drifted through us, and silence fell over the assembled guests until Jean-Claude and Marie, who had stopped beside us, signalled to the musicians to begin a new dance tune.

 The next dance, to which the guests took turns joining, was, perhaps, if you looked from above, incredibly beautiful - a multitude of couples in sparkling ballroom costumes, twirling to the same rhythm of the music that enveloped everyone, sunlight falling from the ceiling, wind currents, sometimes created by the magic of the house, swirling among the dancers. But I did not feel such an emotional rise as in our first dance with my beloved, and felt some vague regret in my soul. Though it would not be our last dance - of that I was sure.

 But even this beautiful dance was over, the couples of dancers merged with the rest of the audience, and the next part of the celebration came - the congratulation of the mistress of the house. One or the other couple came up to Marie and Jean-Claude standing in the centre of the hall, exchanged a few words with the woman, depending on their relationship, and handed over gifts, which Marie, after holding in her hands for a few seconds, gave to the house elves, who took them to a separate room.

 After another wave of amazement, Aurelius Cimus, lightly tapping his dully shimmering staff, approached the Delacour couple, handing them an elegant cage with a creature sitting inside it... I don't even know what it was called... At least, none of the books I'd read on magical creatures had anything even remotely similar. Soft, long fur, pointed ears with tassels on the ends, the creature was remotely like a lynx, but the fangs peeking out from under its black lips would have honoured even a tiger. Bright blue-blue eyes from beneath the fringes that hung down on his forehead looked favourably at the new mistress, and the animal, opening its mouth wide, yawned, revealing a row of glistening white fangs.

 As I came a little closer, I heard the end of Cimus' story about what kind of animal he was giving. Apparently, it was another result of his experiments, perfectly safe because of the mental attunement to the family of its owners. But the intruding burglars certainly had something to fear.

 Marie Delacourt, despite the long-standing maturity and stamina of a politician's wife, was delighted by the unknown beast, even through her almost flawless self-control. Jean-Claude was also impressed by the unusual gift, but he was much more interested in the fact of the sudden appearance of such an unexpected guest, which could certainly be considered the strongest black magician in Europe, except, perhaps, only the Dark Lord.

 Having handed over my gift and kissed Marie Delacourt's hand with deep respect, I stepped aside, intending to spend at least part of my time with Fleur. To my surprise, which gradually turned to irritation, a whole group of young people were already crowded around the girl, trying in vain to attract her attention. Realising that the problem had to be solved immediately, I picked up a couple of glasses of champagne from the nearest table and moved forward with determination. To my relief, open conflict was avoided as Domenic Riordan, standing among the other noble young men gathered around Fleur, calmly moved aside to make way for me, clearly not deceived as to my intentions. A mocking smile slid across his curved lips; the Riordan heir understood my motives perfectly. I nodded politely, thanking him for his help and non-interference.

 Slipping past my unexpected ally, I found myself standing next to Fleur, who took the glass I held out to her with relief and grasped the hand that had been placed at her side with the other hand.

 - Gentlemen, unfortunately I must leave you, it was a pleasure to meet you again. - The girl's polite but cold smile to the crowd made me raise my eyebrows - Fleur had never shown such detached... hatred for anyone until now.

 - What's wrong, love? - As soon as we stepped aside, I asked the question that had been bothering me.

 - These people had been holding me back in Beauxbaton, and now they were just as unable and unwilling to resist my attraction. - The girl squeezed my hand tighter, nearly piercing my skin with her fingernails, and then, on second thought, gently stroked my shoulder. - I'm sorry, it's just... I got tired of them during my studies.

 - At least you're not seen as a national hero one day and a dangerous lunatic the next, Fleur," I smiled a little sadly, showing that I wasn't being too serious.

 - Our dance caused a slight sensation," the girl's hand touched my hair, almost on the edge of propriety. - The glow of magic emanating from you has impressed quite a few, seeking fresh and strong blood for the renewal of the clan.

 I frankly shuddered.

 - Merlin spare me from the seekers of strong genes!

 Fleur laughed softly.

 - Harry, you just haven't come across it in England - it's the same situation there. If you hadn't been brought up with Muggles, you'd have been bound to a marriage contract with some girl from a noble family long ago... All the more reason for aristocrats to hold on to the purity of their blood.

 - James and Sirius once enlightened me about bloodline magic and how it differs from even the strongest Muggleborn..." I shook my head. - But I didn't think I could be a target for... selection myself.

 Fleur smiled, pulling me to the centre of the hall for another dance - the House Mistress' greeting had ended, and new music was already filling the room.

 - I think James will have a couple of letters from some of his closest political allies by tonight... Asking if his nephew is committed to any of the girls.

 I looked at her in horror, almost losing my rhythm.

 - Tell me you're joking, love!

 The sly look from beneath her lowered lashes made my heart beat harder.

 - My knight, unfortunately, you will have to fight them off for a whole year - until we are engaged. - Again that sly smile of a girl trying to overcome her own jealousy to cheer me up.

 Before the next dance, Aurelius and his wife approached us, ahead of several other young men and women. The mage, leaning his staff against the far table, bowed politely and asked me if I would be willing to yield one dance to him. Fleur, smiling a little warily, allowed herself to be led into the circle of dancers, and Arrataia and I were left alone. Looking like a normal young girl now, Arrataia was silent for a while, examining my forehead.

 - I see you've learned some of the knowledge stored in the Horcrux, Mr Britton. - There was something predatory in her smile, like a wild cat.

 - Only because of your consummate skill, madam," I bowed.

 - And how do you feel now? - The girl asked with the curiosity of an explorer.

 - Dual..." I shook my head. - On the one hand I am still the same young man, on the other - I see some details that I can combine with each other.

 - Intuition?

 - Rather - a new way of thinking, as if I can connect previously seemingly unimportant things and understand something new.

 - And what does your acquired intuition say about this ball? - Arrataia grinned.

 - I feel like a game on a plate," I answered honestly, eliciting a hearty laugh from my strange companion.

 - I think all magically gifted offspring of noble families, as well as some muggleborns and half-breeds, experience it. - The girl looked at me intently. - In order to avoid degeneration and increase their family magic, aristocrats try to plan the marriages of their heirs in advance. Some go too far, however, and marriages are arranged only between purebloods.

 - To be honest, Lady Arrataia, I still don't fully understand the difference between an aristocrat who possesses clan magic and an ordinary wizard.

 - For starters, the level of power. Reasonably blood-diluted ancient families are most often made up of much stronger wizards.

 - But are there exceptions? - I looked at my... acquaintance with much more interest, remembering the infamous Neville at Hogwarts, who many people quietly called half-squib.

 - There is, but it often happens that in such... not too strong descendants of ancient families magic simply sleeps, though... though it often happens that it can be awakened. Sometimes, for reasons unknown, extremely capable half-breeds and even muggleborns are born.

 - I will keep your words in mind, Lady Arrataia. - I bowed my head slightly, grateful for the interesting information.

 - That's not all, Mr Britton. - The girl shook her head. - Many old families have a tendency towards some kind of magic. I read your story in the newspapers... I don't know what it was like fifteen years ago, but if the press isn't lying - your mother fought off the Avada of the strongest dark wizard in England, even if she sacrificed her life. That raises some questions, wouldn't you agree?

 I wrinkled my nose slightly, the reminder stabbing at my heart.

 - You're probably right, but I've never considered my family's death from that perspective.

 - It's unlikely you could have done so - after the fuss that was made by the press for some unknown reason, no one would seriously consider this, as they called it, blood magic of the victim, and it could be a sign of what abilities your clan had in the past....

 - I guess you're right. - I've given the matter some serious thought.

 - But don't dwell on it too much just yet, Mr Britton. You won't be able to control your family magic until you're of age. And then you'll figure it out by trial and error. - Arrataia smiled.

 Almost simultaneously with the end of our conversation the dance was over, Aurelius, smiling in a surprisingly friendly way, took his wife to the wine table, and Fleur went to chat with an old friend, who was seen at the other end of the hall. I followed her with my eyes in some confusion, pondering what I had heard from Arrataia, every time she found some new information that almost turned the whole picture of the world upside down.

 I was brought out of my musings by a meaningful cough. Domenic Riordan, and it was he, gave me a friendly smile.

 - Mr Britton, it's a pleasure to meet you again.

 - The Riordan heir, as well as myself. - I bowed socially.

 - Since I am the only one here with the honour of being acquainted with you, I have been asked very persuasively to mediate. - Domenic seemed almost calm, but there was a distinctly snide twinkle in his eye.

 - So," he went on, realising that I had not yet caught his train of thought, "I have been asked to introduce these noble ladies to you under threat of cruel punishment.

 The moment the three blonde sisters I had seen earlier at the entrance to the hall approached us, I knew I was in for big trouble.

 Domenic, still smiling casually, introduced me to the Blake sisters, Amelie, Françoise and Ariana, who gave me favourable glances from under their long lashes. Surrounded on all sides, I realised that I could not escape so easily, especially as Domenic, having done his evil deed, quietly left our company with a look of both mockery and apology. Had I not been in the position of a game in the face of the hunters, I might have laughed at this elaborate joke of his, but now ...

 - Monsieur Britton," said Amelie, eyeing me curiously, "I decided to throw a trial ball. - You plan to study at Beauxbaton, if I understood Domenic's story correctly.

 I mentally cursed the overly sociable young man.

 - Yes, my lady, my father, having consulted with my uncle, decided that there was no better place for me to finish my education, - still, compared to Australian wizarding schools, Beauxbaton looks much... more representative.

 - And what course are you planning to enrol in? - Ariana took a slight step to the right to stop my attempt to get out of the circle.

 - If Madame Maxime accepts my exams for the four courses, I'll take the fifth. - I bowed slightly, annoyed at the failed manoeuvre. - And on what course are you beautiful ladies studying?

 - I'm in sixth," Amelie, the oldest of the sisters, answered for everyone. - Ariana is in fifth, like you. - A sly look from Ariana's black eyes that I chose to ignore. - And Françoise on the third.

 Françoise, clearly approaching me out of curiosity and in company with her sisters, gave me a simple and friendly nod, absorbed in trying to examine the staff of Aurelius standing not far from us.

 After another five minutes filled with the chattering of the sisters, which made my head start to buzz, I was finally rescued by Fleur, who saw my predicament. Cleverly taking advantage of the fact that the three girls were gradually pushing me back towards the table, Fleur simply walked over to the other side of the table and delicately reminded me that I had promised her a dance.

 With the naked-eye visible regret required by etiquette, I politely bid farewell to the disappointed sisters, retreating with Fleur to the centre of the room.

 - Thank you! - I was ready to kiss my saviour, who felt it perfectly, and for an indistinguishably small fraction of an instant pressed closer to me in the dance than the rules of propriety allowed, and again it was as if a spark had passed between us.

 - I told you that a strong, unknown mage would attract interest. - The girl shook her hair. - So you got off cheap.

 - Could it have been worse? - I didn't believe it was possible.

 - Fortunately, this ball is a safe enough place, but in some houses you'd have to fear a much harsher 'attack'. Amortentia poured into a glass, aphrodisiac perfume, mmm.... an unambiguous situation with "untimely" witnesses walking in. Sometimes it could all be trifled with, though not all aristocrats would go for such a thing. - The girl's eyes flashed dangerously. - But you are mine.

 - And no one else's, my love. - I whispered the last word.

 We didn't talk about anything else, absorbed in the dance, during which I mentally thanked Madame Henriette for the skills she had literally beaten into me. A favourite girl, music, dancing - what else did a man of my age need for happiness, if something more was not yet available to us?

 Finally, through the open front doors, the guests moved into the garden - it was getting dark, and the first fireworks, ordered from one of the fashionable Parisian workshops in the magic quarter, began to fly into the sky. Sometimes the fireworks were joined by the magic of one of the guests - it was considered quite appropriate to demonstrate one's power and skill in this way. Intoxicated by the proximity of my favourite girl and the wine I'd drunk, I pulled out my wand.

 - Harry-" Fleur didn't have time to stop me.

 Putting most of my strength into the spell and imagining our first kiss, I whispered softly:

 - ExpectoPatronum.

 There were surprised gasps. A life-size griffin glowing white and gold, waving its wings majestically, leapt to the zenith, circled above the gathered guests and disintegrated into a pile of sparks that slowly faded to the ground.

 Suddenly, a scarlet-red dragon flew up into the sky from Cimus's staff, and another smaller dragon, glowing with wild green fire, flew up, obeying Arrataia's spell. I, along with the rest of the guests, watched in fascination as the mighty magical creatures flew one after another in the night sky, and then I cast the Patronus spell again, and the white and gold griffin joined the celestial dance of the glowing reptiles.

 Fleur, who was mesmerised by the race of sorcerous beasts, even forgot to scold me for my untimely demonstration of skill.

 - I want to learn that spell too, Harry! - The girl's eyes burned with a fire of excitement.

 - Let's give it a try, love. - I could hardly resist kissing the tantalising half-open lips, the beautiful face, now turned up to the sky and lit by the fireworks. But there were too many other people's eyes around.