Fleur dithered for a moment before finally giving in and gliding gracefully into the armchair nearest the fire. Still holding Gabrielle in her arms, she settled on the edge of the seat, unable to relax in the slightest. Her sister must have sensed her distress, for she tightened her grip, and Fleur soaked in that much-needed feeling of love.
She opened her mouth to speak, but she could not for the life of her figure out where to start. How was she to tell him this? How would he react? Frustrated, she closed her eyes again, tears beginning to leak from them against her will.
She heard her father shift, and sensed him kneeling before her, felt him placing one gentle hand against her cheek, careful not to jostle the bundle in her arms. The gesture of comfort almost broke her completely: how could she accept it when she was about to make him so very ashamed of her? It was almost too much to handle!
"Fleur?" he prompted in deepening concern.
Fleur swallowed thickly, and finally forced herself to confront her fears. "Papa," she began, her voice crackling with emotion, "do you– do you know what happens when– when a Veela owes a life debt?"
Her father sucked in a sharp breath, and his hand stilled. She dared not open her eyes, lest she see his horror: his reaction told her that he knew, and she did not want to see it.
"Did someone save your life, Fleur?" he asked carefully.
Fleur nodded and choked back a sob. It was out now, too late to stop the telling, and she was terrified! "The Grinydlows almost killed me," she admitted tearfully. "'Arry, he– he saved me, Papa, and– and it's the reason he was hurt. His time ran out early because he saved me!"
Her voice rose in pitch as her feelings struggled for release, and her entire body vibrated with the pressure of her pent up emotions. It was too few hours since the event for her to even remotely come to terms with it, not that she knew how! Her life was forever changed, and she could do nothing about it, and that was to say nothing of what it might do to Harry when he found out!
Would he even deem her worthy of saving a second time, especially at so high a cost?
As her mind whirled, she dimly registered that Gabrielle was being pulled away from her, and another sob escaped her at the loss of her sister, who felt like her only anchor in the storm. Moments later, however, even as Gabby's weight disappeared completely, she felt her father's arms come around her in a warm embrace, and he pulled her close, holding her tightly.
It was too much for her – she didn't deserve it – and she finally lost what little remained of her control, her sobs echoing in the chamber. He murmured soothingly to her, but she was so distraught that she could not hear his words. Why had she done this? Why had she ignored her parents and gotten herself into such trouble?
She had no idea how long he held her, but soon she cried herself out, and he gently drew away, lowering himself to stare into her eyes. She was startled to see nothing but concern there; there was no anger, no shame; only the love that he had always given his daughters, whether they needed it or not.
And for the first time in many hours, a tiny sliver of hope arose.
"We'll get you through this, chérie," he soothed. "I promise you, we'll get you through this. Now, why don't you tell me what happened?"
And so she did. She told him of her panic when she discovered that Gabrielle was missing, and how that awful song said that if she was not found, she would never return. She told him how she was so lost in the lake, completely unable to orient herself, her senses and magic disrupted by the unfriendly alien environment. And she told him of how those awful Grindylows sensed her presence and swarmed her like a pack of angry hippogriffs.
"I thought I was going to die, Papa," she whispered. "I knew I was going to die! And next thing I know, they start letting go of me. The last thing I remember is seeing 'Arry casting spells at them like a wild man. I couldn't get any air, and–"
She choked up again, and again her father gave her a hug. There was no possible doubt that the debt was real: had she lost consciousness unattended, not only would her charm have eventually failed and caused her to drown, but those infernal creatures would eventually have found her and killed her anyway! She felt a brief surge of anger at the carelessness of the Tournament organizers, but it disappeared again quickly, buried under her grief.
"Let us be sure," suggested her father, drawing his wand from a pocket in his elegant robes. "Afficher toutes les dettes!"
A pale shaft of white light left the tip of his wand and struck her in the chest, just over her aching heart. She was not surprised when the glow spread, turning a faint gold as it encompassed her entire body, and then brightening into the deepest golden glow she had ever seen. She knew what that meant, and it did nothing to reassure her.
She was right!
He sighed heavily and moved back to his seat, his face drawn, his eyes downcast as he thought it through. There was a palpable sadness about him that made her heart ache all the more. He was about to lose his daughter, and he knew this, but there was nothing to be done. She wanted to take it back, to tell him it was all a mistake!
"Tell me of 'Arry," he said softly. "What do you know of him?"
Fleur drew her legs up beneath her and shrank back into the plush armchair, recognizing that now they were down to serious business. She wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the unnatural cold she felt, and did her best to order her thoughts. What did she really know of him?
"He is... different, from the others," she said slowly. "I first saw him when he came to tell us that he was selected as a Champion. He denied his involvement, but nobody believed him." Her lips quirking slightly in wry amusement, she added, "I think I called him a little boy."