A/N: Hey guys, it's been a while! AK here with a new story submitted for the International Wizarding School Championship. This Round's challenge was particularly interesting, so if you want to read a few stories on this line, check out the forum!

School: Beauxbatons

Year: Second Year

Theme: Charms - Expecto Patronum

Prompt: Fleur Delacour [Character][Main], "You're my very own prince charming," she said. [Speech]

Word Count: 2061 (sans A/Ns)

Stars and Darkness

By AK

There was a charming little house at the edge of Angler's Word, very close to the cliff. It was called 'Shell Cottage', a suitable name as the roof was structured in a way to resemble shells. The people of the town were quite envious of the newly-wed couple who lived in it.

The husband was a lean young man who had worked at a bank. After an 'incident' with 'intruders' at his 'workplace', he had escaped with his life, albeit heavily scarred. He was on break for their wedding and subsequent honeymoon. He was often seen wearing a single, vaguely bone-shaped earring on one ear which, when coupled with a leather jacket, set many of the small town girls blushing. And yet, despite his appearance, he was a serious and steadfast fellow, which the more senior occupants silently approved of.

The wife was a young French woman who had a smile that stole a man's heart and made her public enemy number one in each woman's. Her beauty was such that even the prettiest girl in town would fade into the background while standing next to her. She was often decked in chic blue clothing and simple silver jewelry, the only exception being the ever present golden band on her left ring finger. The younger women regarded her with admiration tinged with jealousy.

Truly, they were the talk of the town! Everyone wanted to be them! But then…

Things began happening.

Strange things.

There was a charming little town to the south of Shell Cottage, very close to the coastline. It was called 'Angler's Word', a suitable name as the people who lived in it tended to make mountains out of molehills. A certain person in the cottage was quite envious of the people of the town.

Theo, the young buck-toothed boy who lived in the white house with the blue door had successfully snagged a date with Mary, an equally young girl who was often seen with her dark brown hair drawn up in a ponytail. Old Mr. Sanders, a widower for three years, had finally mustered up the courage to ask out the newly divorced Ms. Amelia out for dinner. Even the misshapen toad living in the lake was able to find company for Valentine's.

Truly, love was in the air.

And Fleur was sick of it.

The young woman looked almost ethereal as she was bathed in the light of the setting sun. And yet, the look of sadness on her face would make even the strongest of hearts soften in concern.

How is it that all the creatures of the world would be blessed with the joy of being with their loved one on the day of love while Fleur was stuck in the house awaiting her dear husband's return? She understood that he had responsibilities and whatnot, but would he really deny her this simple pleasure? Fleur didn't think that she was asking for much…

Fleur sighed.

There was nothing to be done about it now. She might as well make herself useful. She went about her usual routine, dusting the furniture and sweeping the floor. She made a simple dinner for herself which she ate alone and washed up after. Her movements were unpracticed, but with the air of one slowly getting accustomed to routine.

In the beginning, she had kept aside a portion of meat rawer than the rest in hopes of a surprise visit from her spouse. But after a few days of perfectly good portions gone to waste, she ceased doing so. Just remembering it made her feel so-

Wait.

This wasn't like her. Her senses went on overdrive, trying to figure out what that little voice in her head was trying to warn her about. Her eyes darted to the windowsill and sure enough- frost was creeping up the glass pane. She stifled a scream. A dark grey rag-like creature slammed against the window with a thump. The glass shuddered but held.

Fleur backed away from the window slowly. The protection gained from the charms that had been placed on the enchanted glass would not last for long. She needed to gather her wits about her. She closed her eyes and tried to conjure up a happy memory.

The townspeople smiling at her, the little discounts she received whenever she visited the local butcher, the warm feeling she got when she saw the smiling faces of the town's scamps running around in play, the old man by the harbor who gently ribbed her about her 'Prince Charming'…

"Expecto Patronum."

A disincarnate wisp covered the area. The dementor outside the premise shuddered and was about to move away when another dementor slammed into it. The non-corporeal Patronus spluttered out. Fleur's hand shook, but she held her wand steady. Even before she could open her mouth to cast the charm a second time, a third dementor slammed into the other window.

Fleur's face paled.

When fighting dementors, it is imperative to gain the upper hand. If the initiative is lost, it becomes increasingly difficult to recall the happier instances of one's life.

She cast her eyes around for inspiration. They fell onto a letter that laid on the tea table nearby. It was from Gabrielle.

The first time she saw her younger sister, the first time her mom allowed her to hold her in her hands, the feeling when that tiny fist clamped onto her index finger, the feeling when she looked into big eyes staring at her, the moment when she realized, 'Wow. I'm a big sister now.', Gabrielle whose laugh filled her with joy, Gabrielle whose smile lit up the room, Gabrielle who called her a princess…

"Expecto Patronum."

A corporeal Patronus burst into existence. The dementors howled and moved away, but for each that was pushed away, three more came forward to take its place. Fleur looked on with a dim sort of horror as cracks were seen on the glass panes.

What more, the light of the Patronus dimmed as voices and images filled Fleur's head.

Gabrielle in the water while she was caught by the Grindylows, Gabrielle being surrounded by death eaters just before a narrow escape, Gabrielle calling out for her sister while Fleur was miles away, unable to move a finger in assistance…

Fleur gasped, the magic shattered and the silver light spluttered out. The dementors were crowding against the glass so densely that all that could be seen was a whirl of tattered grey robes. The cracks lengthened into spider webs and the glass seemed to be on its last legs. Still, it managed to hold. Fleur smiled bitterly.

This was the end.

It was not a thought that was fed into her mind by a dementor. It was pure and simple fact that she recognized and had no choice but to accept. Glass dust was falling onto the ground. The window would cave in any second now. Fleur stood up straighter, smoothed her hair back and slipped into a dueling pose. Her wand at the ready, she fixed her eyes on dark robes. If she would die, she would die fighting.

There was only one thing left. Only one thing she cared about more than anything else, the only one that made her the happiest woman on earth. Her Prince Charming.

"Expecto Patronum!"

The glass finally gave in. The dementors rushed in like water bursting out of a pipe. It was chaos, madness. The entire cottage was flooded with dementors. Although the dementors never touched the ground, their robes made slithering sounds as they dragged across the floor. The normally unheard sounds were especially chilling considering the stillness of the night.

All of it, that is, save one little corner.

In that corner sat Fleur Delacour, still as death. She sat there, her face growing paler by the minute. But even as she sat in the middle of so many of her enemies, she had not given up hope. There was one last thing that could happen...

And hour passed, two more.

A roar sounded through the stillness of the night.

The entire area was filled with silvery light. The dementors fell away, pell mell. The sound of a dozen footsteps were heard, securing the perimeter of the cottage. One pair alone dashed madly through the house, rushing through the rooms desperately.

When they reached the hall, the epicenter of the disaster, a choked sound was torn out of his mouth. Bill Weasley fell to his knees next to the still body of his wife. He took her into his arms blindly. She was ice cold. But before he could descend further into madness, her eyelashes fluttered.

Dazed eyes met his own reddened ones.

Fleur Delacour smiled. "You're my very own prince charming," she said.

It started on Friday the 13th, which was never an auspicious sign. A fog had covered the town that night. At first, nothing seemed out of place. But then the townspeople realized that young Billy Roe had gone missing after his date with Mary Richards.

His body was found three days later, floating on a cross-current a few meters away from the cliff where the cottage stood. Alibis were given and cross-checked. It was put down as an accident. Mary was inconsolable, as were the Roes. But nothing could be done. Condolences were given and the matter was put to rest.

Or it would have been, if that was all that had happened. In the following days, even stranger things happened.

Every full moon night, echoes of howls could be heard from the quiet alleyways, faint as second hand whispers. Unfamiliar men and woman wearing strange robe like clothing were seen walking through the town, the gatekeepers having no record nor clear memories of their arrival. Once, a symbol appeared in the clouds- A green snake emerging from the mouth of a skull!

Naturally, the townspeople were terrified.

The fact that all of these incidents started after the arrival of the newcomers was suspicious. The fact that the newcomers kept to themselves compounded their suspicion. The rumors that spread soon after… they weren't quite the last straw on the camel's back, but it was close.

Have you heard?

I have, but surely it can't be!

A werewolf? Ha! We aren't in Twilight, y'know?

Magic? This isn't a fairytale!

What, you want to go on a witch hunt? Are you from the Dark Ages? Leave those poor people alone.

Even as they denied it vehemently, a seed of doubt was planted in their hearts. The strange happenings persisted. The news on the radio and on the television was no less grim. A tense atmosphere pervaded the town whenever either of the two came down to restock supplies. When both came down, the town became as still as death. Even when neither of them were present, halting and hesitating words were spread about in whispers.

It seemed as if the situation would only get worse.

But then…

The cottage disappeared as if it had never existed. No one came down from the premonitory to buy supplies, no one came out clad in leather jackets or blue chic dresses, no one at all…

The town people started to forget too. They forgot all about the little cottage with the shell shaped roof, they forgot about the couple that once lived there, they forgot about the strange fog, the strange people, the other strange happenings. They forgot it all…

But the astonishing fact is not that they forgot, but the fact that they forgot in just three days time. All was back to "normal".

Or so the people of Angler's Word thought.

Fleur looked out of the cottage through the window. The nightscape was dark, making the heavy sadness in her feel even heavier. She shivered as she remembered the ice-cold that had filled her lungs, her head, down to her very bones…

Strong arms wrapped around her. She turned to see Bill looking over her with honest worry. The warmth seeped into her, staving away the chill and allowing Fleur to think clearly once more. She sighed and leaned into the welcome embrace, looking out of the window once more.

The light from the town that filtered through the newly-placed Fidelius charm were mere pinpricks. And now that her mind was calm, she could see.

It looked like a bed of stars.

A/N: I hope you liked it!