"Potter men certainly know how to pick them," McGonagall said, her eyes not straying from the work Fleur and Flitwick were doing.

Harry smirked as he watched her continue to be put through the paces. The diminutive professor had tested her sensing and was now having her throw every sort of spell she knew at the man.

Flitwick was practically glowing with happiness as he casually neutralized every spell sent at him. Fleur's face was a study of frustration. Her eyebrows knit together from the fury of her inability at doing anything other than provide enjoyment for the seasoned duelist.

"Very good, Miss Delacour, very good indeed!" he praised. Fleur's scowl didn't abate in the least.

"She reminds me of your mother, you know," Harry's chin whipped around to look at the aged transfiguration professor. "Not in looks… more, her spirit." Harry crinkled his eyebrows and paid close attention.

"She's skilled, determined, and fiery…it just reminds me of Lily. Top of her year with the makings of a formidable witch," she paused and watched with fondness in her eyes. "But you weren't asking about that, now were you?"

"No professor, but I appreciate it all the same," Harry said in a way of a reply.

"Elemental transfiguration is not for the faint of heart and is a blending of Charms and Transfiguration. Albus, himself, has a difficult time replicating his usual results with elements. Grindelwald was better at it, though his version was almost all charms work."

"But Dumbledore was the transfiguration master…"

"Yes, but in the branch of elemental manipulation, Grindelwald was more skilled. Maginot Rouge being a prime example." There was some distaste in her using that example. "Conjuring an element and using it to the same degree as what Albus is capable of, isn't within either man's skillsets. Only those with a potent affinity would, theoretically, be capable of doing something similar to what Albus does," she pursed her lips as she thought for a moment.

"Pure-blooded Veela are known for their manipulation of fire and creating avian-type creatures with it, leading to the misconception of them being able to throw fire. Their ability to manipulate fire is often considered prodigious, however, their lack of a strong foci means they aren't known for their strength beyond their affinity."

"I didn't know they had issues with magical foci?" Harry frowned as he thought about what he knew about veela and wands. Fleur's wand had a hair from her grandmother...but he didn't know anything else.

"You'd have to ask Ollivander if you wanted to learn more. I just know there aren't any Transfiguration Masters that are full-blooded Veela. This was the reason I was given and what I have learned since," Harry nodded, there was no recrimination or prejudice from his professor.

"But let us get back on task. It is easier to take existing elements and shape them to your will. Grindelwald took the very weather and used the existing precipitation to shape and alter an existing storm. In the same way, you'd see Albus take existing statues or debris and transfigure them into the creations he's famous for," McGonagall patiently explained.

"So why is it more difficult?" Harry was highly intrigued now.

"Power is one major reason," she stated as she began lecturing on the topic, though Harry could tell she was excited about the topic. "Primarily, conjuration isn't taught until NEWT levels; it's magically intensive."

"So if you had enough power, you'd be able to conjure your water and then use it? Theoretically speaking, of course." Harry qualified his question and the corners of her mouth tighten.

"That...is difficult to say. I can conjure water or throw out fire, shape it, charm it, and control it. But I can't do it as well with conjured water or fire."

"Why...not?" Harry asked attentively after an abbreviated arrestation.

"It is hard to explain. A lack of practice is possible. Perhaps it is because the conjured element is too excited by magic?"

"Like how you were trying to explain why it's so difficult to make transfigurations as strong as the Headmaster's?" Harry said, prodding for further explanation.

McGonagall gazed at Harry and pursed her lips while doing so. "Magic isn't science. While there are rules, you will find solid boundaries become blurry as you advance. What is possible for Albus, is not for other masters of the art. What was possible for Grindelwald, is not something others are capable of repeating."

"Magic is not something anyone will ever fully understand. Even how I was taught and how I performed were not always what Albus did, and it is the same with you. You have your own flavour of magic, for lack of a better word. While I lack the power of the Headmaster, there are areas of transfiguration where I excel beyond him, and it's not from lack of talent or effort." There was some pride in her final words.

Harry took in the words and let them percolate in his mind, letting it steep in his mind, running the ideas through his brain, like coffee on a stove. It was something that had been on his mind recently. He wasn't going to match Dumbledore in transfiguration. Harry doubted he would ever be as skilled as Flitwick at detecting and neutralizing magic. It just wasn't how he was wired.

This idea of having a magical flavour… That was an appealing prospect.

It was obvious that he now had a flair for fire-based magic. Could this be his unique flavour that he becomes known for? How would that even work?

Would he have to make fire constructs that were animated elementals? Fire, while good and strong, had clear weaknesses. He couldn't be a master of fire manipulation and then stand alongside Dumbledore. A statue of stone would wreck and destroy him. Using water, ice or earth would put it out.

If fire was going to be his differentiation, it couldn't be just fire. It had to be more.

"There are quirks of magic that I doubt anyone will ever understand. Magic isn't always predictable and that aspect is most often seen at the heights of it. What You-Know-Who was able to accomplish was not something he was able to teach to his sycophants. What Albus can achieve isn't something that he has been able to teach to anyone else, and it's not from lack of magic."

Was this why Slytherin hadn't included any of his powerful spells? Was there something about Harry, specifically, that would allow him a unique sort of magical prowess, prowess that others were simply unable to repeat? It would make some sense. What Slytherin was able to achieve was due to him and his magic. Having completed a vastly different ritual set, perhaps the spellwork would be achievable.

"I believe you'll be able to do much of what Albus is able to accomplish, though I'm not sure your flavour is going to be transfiguration. You are talented but not preeminently so."

Harry scratched the back of his head as he accepted that. It was an honest reflection and not critical of him or his effort. Anytime he had ever slacked off around her, she'd been a brutal taskmaster, not that Harry had any sort of habit of doing so in his private lessons.

"Flitwick believes you could do much of what he is capable of, though he believes it would be a disservice to try and emulate him fully."

"You've been talking with Professor Flitwick about a style for me?" Harry asked his head turning back to watch Fleur's exercises with the other professor. The diminutive man was putting Fleur through the wringer. It was a style of exercise that Harry hadn't enjoyed but had grown to greatly appreciate. Filius was amazing at pushing you consistently just beyond your boundaries, forcing you to continue to reach and grasp to keep up to the lofty standards he kept his exercises at. And, if he thought you were doing anything less than your utmost, he'd get sadistic and start making his spells hurt.

"Of course. Your father was a transfiguration specialist and Lily had a way of putting up overwhelming offence or defence. Sirius was one of the most creative duelists I have seen, consistently finding ways to use spells that were equally as bizarre as they were effective."

Harry's face lit up at hearing more comments about his parents. He was sure that McGonagall was trying to impart as much as she could whenever she had the opportunity to do so in private. "What about Remus and Peter?" Harry's lips pinched towards his scrunched nose upon saying the last name.

"Remus due to his...condition...was always more physical and defensive. He used his quick wit to defend and often box in opponents. When the four fought together, their contrasting styles covered and worked in coordination well, frighteningly so," she gave a quick shake of her head before answering the final part. "Peter wasn't as skilled, but the young man could pick his spots. He'd never be at the forefront, never taking the brunt of it, nor doling it out. Instead, he'd spot weak points and capitalize them. He might only use a couple of spells but they were always on target and normally impossible to defend, even if they had seen it coming."

"I don't think any of those styles are for me, professor," Harry said as he absently fiddled with his wand, rolling between his fingers.

"I'm not telling you this because I believe you should emulate any of them. Fleur just reminded me of your mother. Even restricted, you can see her tenacity and the defence she's putting up. I expected this to have ended already. You see how she's in trouble and yet manages to get a burst of spells out?"

Harry caught what McGonagall was pointing out. Flitwick had her on the ropes, her body off balance, unable to dodge, her wand positioned awkwardly, and then he had sent rapid spellfire all around her. Fleur had, miraculously, managed to get her wand back in position to defend; had shielded, avoided, or neutralized the incoming barrage. It wasn't hard to see it had taken a toll on her, but her inner fire kept her competing until she no longer could.

"She's impressive, a charms mastery will be in her future."

"Did you two have any thoughts as to what my style could be?" Harry queried, tilting his head as he focused back on her.

"No, though I find your sudden fascination for elemental transfiguration...interesting. Filius commented on how fiery your magic felt." McGonagall fixed him a piercing gaze and lifted her eyebrows ever so slightly.

Harry grinned then shrugged. "I might have discovered a...latent fire affinity?" He knew she wasn't buying it but gave the cheeky reply anyways.

"Yes, one neither your muggleborn mother had nor any previous generations of Potter," she arched her eyebrow. "Perhaps it has something to do with those rituals you are dabbling in and Miss Delacour?"

"Sounds...plausible," Harry said, continuing to grin as McGonagall's face softened.

"I'm glad, she's a remarkable young woman. Madame Maxime has nothing but praise for her."

Harry tried not to think about how his cheeks gained a red hue rapidly. "I'm glad you think so."

"I'm certain your parents would have approved and loved her."

Harry shut his eyes for a second and breathed out. "Th-thanks, professor," his green eyes found hers as he'd spoken. While they were still locked, she continued.

"Dorea would've adored her and Charlus would've been ecstatic she's a Delacour," McGonagall reached forward and placed her hand on his shoulder. "I've been very impressed with you this year. We had wondered if you were ever going to apply yourself and you've surpassed the expectations."

Harry gave a faint smile. "Did the Headmaster initiate all this training or had you two wanted to do it?" Harry's fingers fidgeted while awaiting the response.

"Albus requested we consider it," McGonagall began to respond and clarified further upon seeing Harry's frown. "However, neither of us would consider doing one-on-one lessons if we, ourselves, did not consider it first."

Harry had to clasp his hands together, his fingers had become too agitated as he mentally debated asking a follow-up question. "Does Dumbledore ask for reports on my progress?"

The Deputy Headmistress turned his attention back from the other two occupants and appraised him with a look. "As the Headmaster, he is ultimately responsible for all instruction in the school and by its faculty. If you are learning within the walls of this castle, he is entitled to know about it. With that said, neither of us have given extremely detailed information, nor would either of us divulge anything said in confidence. Be wary if you are trying to hide a skill, he is Albus Dumbledore and has a knack for knowing things you may not expect him to."

Harry nodded and understood the message. They weren't spying on him but he should assume Dumbledore was aware of what he was being taught.

"It is time we get started, let's begin with seeing your elemental transfiguration of fire."

Harry dipped his head as he stood up, withdrew his wand and began showing what he was just beginning to learn what he may now be capable of.

"Show me three different transfigurations and I want them hardened against physical and magical attacks."

Harry closed his eyes and concentrated. He was going to try for difficult animations. Already he'd been thinking up of ways that creatures made of fire could be useful in attacks. He wanted something that would strike fear into his enemies and had come up with a couple of ideas.

The first creature, born of fire, was the smallest and most agile one: a miniature dragon. Harry didn't know if it was possible, but, if he could figure out a way to make it breathe fire...that'd be unreal.

With only a swish of his wand, his creation was born of fire, a dragon whose flesh was fire instead of sinew, muscle and bones.

McGonagall launched a few spells at it and the dragon's animation spellwork allowed it to act out as a real dragon. It dodged, ducked, dipped, and dove the first four and rolled over the fifth. The sixth hit it dead on, but the magic held and wasn't so easily disrupted.

While this had been going on, Harry created his second creature of fire. Two flaming horns stood over seven feet off the ground. Large hands held a gargantuan two-handed axe. The hulking torso and arms of a man with the head and lower body of a bull. Harry's Minotaur made of fire was an imposing creature and took a noticeable amount of magical power to conjure.

Harry allowed himself to smirk at the raising of McGonagall's eyebrow, the only noticeable change upon seeing the creature.

"Is that...practical?" The disbelief in her voice was palpable.

"It's intimidating. Imagine that beast bearing down on someone and bringing that giant battle-axe down on them," Harry grinned and stepped back from his creation. A being of fire that large sure gave off a lot of heat.

"And when they douse it with water or impact it with rocks or dirt?" The proficient professor transfigured a desk into a stone tiger and had it maul the minotaur.

The tiger pounced at the Minotaur but Harry's creature was deft on its hooves. After neatly sidestepping the stone animation, it's strong arms whirled the axe head around and brought it down on the neck of the grey tiger.

Instead of the axe decapitating the creature, it only bit in a few inches before it broke apart and unravelled the magic holding the minotaur together.

The seasoned professor must have expected it, as she already had a shield ready before the fire broke apart and burned itself out.

Harry frowned but was pleased his first and third creations were still alive and burning. He'd brought a magnificent stag to life just before the stone tiger had been created, Prongs.

Instead of the lecture he was sure he'd been about to receive, McGonagall held her hand over her mouth, her eyes blank and unfocused, looking at the third animation. "James," she whispered.

Harry's lips curved into a fond smile as he waited. As he looked at his elemental transfiguration and just enjoyed its form. While his patronus had the same shape, this one felt different. This was his choice, the stag of fire was his method of honouring his father.

"As you saw with the minotaur, your elemental transfiguration has the same issues that have plagued all that had come before you. Namely, fire against water and stone will cause your creation to be overpowered and come apart," McGonagall returned to her natural lecturing visage.

"Would more power or precision not fix it?" Harry asked. He'd just begun to experiment and formulate plans that he'd foreseen as having real potential.

She smiled thinly, "Again, if elemental transfiguration was a strong pursuit, you'd have heard of practitioners throughout history. Not only can your transfigurations be used against you, by breaking apart the spells, but their natural weakness to opposing elements are too problematic. A strong water conjuration charm can overpower a mastery level fire elemental transfiguration."

Harry frowned and didn't respond immediately. The idea of having a fifteen-foot flaming minotaur, towering over the battlefield and wreaking havoc with its gigantic two-handed axe, had been what he pictured in his head. Having its fire burn so hot that water didn't concern it at all, that it could burn away the hexes and curses cast at it, and force everyone's attention and focus to it.

"The issue is with the element itself then; that the fire has weaknesses? Wouldn't creating a better version of fire fix it then?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It is possible Fiendfyre was an attempt to do such a thing, as its creation is lost to history; however, I cannot be clear enough on this. Attempting to combine Fiendfyre and Elemental Transfiguration will not work. It has been tried over and over again, with disastrous results."

Harry nodded but didn't let it deter him. He already has a line on special fire. "What about dragon fire?"

"It does have some magical properties…" McGonagall admitted. "Though, I don't expect it would be as strong as you'd believe. Wards, temporary and permanent, are known for containing dragons."

Harry narrowed his eyes in thought. Cuddle's fire had regularly worn through those wards. "Don't they wear out quickly?" Harry asked with a furrowed forehead.

"Not that I'm aware of. Certainly, there would be routine maintenance but they build them to last."

Harry had always known Cuddles' fire was special. He'd never been able to conjure it. It was even surprising, to him, that he could multiply and control it.

"Can you just focus on hardening your stag against magic for now? I'd like to see how it stands up."

Harry dispelled the current stag and took a moment to concentrate as he let it shimmer then fade out. Closing his eyes, he focused, gathered all the intent he could muster, hardened his willpower, and put as much power into the magic as he was able. He opened his eyes and took in the redone stag.

The former stag had been a deeper red, a cheery red, and was wreathed in those darker fire. Whereas, the new one was visibility hotter. The fire was lighter, whiter, blazing. Though its colour change hadn't impressed the transfiguration professor as of yet.

McGonagall began pelting it with lighter spells and Harry was unsurprised that it held up. When she moved onto more potent spellwork, only her eyebrows raising towards her hairline changed on her expression.

"Moving on..." McGonagall had the stone tiger come and take a swipe at it. Stone met stag and, this time failed to pierce the magic. Harry's lips curved upward and his eyes brightened with hope. He watched as the tiger brought its jaws to bear on the closer hind leg, and though its jaws clamped with frightening force, it failed to pierce the transfiguration.

"Let's see how long it holds," McGonagall said with a clipped tone, her narrowed eyes never straying from the action.

Second after second ticked by, and the spitting image of Prongs burned ever brightly. The professor clicked her tongue and with a tight motion flicked her wand, calling off the tiger. As the beast stalked away, a thick viscous liquid crawled out of its mouth and dropped to the floor.

Harry's eyes snapped to it and he couldn't help but smirk. Molten rock was now rapidly cooling on the stone floor of Hogwarts, a small trail of it led to the tiger's misshapen mouth.

"Your affinity must be strong; the tiger was damage resistant," her words made sense to Harry, his minotaur should have been able to cut through regular stone. "But there is much to do now. Testing the limits, working on the speed, strength, size, and number of creatures you can keep up."

Harry felt the excitement bubble within him, it wasn't, yet, what he'd pictured in his mind. A battlefield dominating fifteen-foot badass tanking minotaur that would disrupt and dominate a conflict but it was the beginning of a path to explore that may lead to the loft goals he had set out to achieve.

Elemental transfiguration would be something unique. He'd imagined a white-hot beast wreathed in flames, axe hefted over its shoulder as it walked with determination through an ice storm on the hills of France, burning away the ice storm and laughing at the pesky lightning. A dragon hidden, flying through the clouds, awaiting to descend upon the man who'd dare to attempt to subjugate another country of magicals. All the while, with Harry advancing behind his fearsome creatures, prepared to defend his new family's countrymen, and drive away the menacing figure manipulating the abating storm.

It wasn't there yet, but, maybe he could get there.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Though they were meeting in the same place as last time, watching the same thing, it felt different now. Harry was more confident and felt he had a purpose and a plan forward. The negotiations between his advisors and the Pavlov family had concluded; Harry pressuring them to just get it done had certainly brought a swift conclusion to things.

In his hand was the magical betrothal agreement for Natalia. He'd signed with Ackerly having approved it and Patrice Delacour as a witness. His name on it would be a show of acceptance, approval even, of the decision. It hadn't been an easy conversation with Fleur but she'd resigned herself to it prior to fully committing to Harry.

The agreement hadn't resolved everything. There were still going to be many details to work out. Magically, Harry and Fleur were married, in the Veela traditions. According to the English and French Ministries of Magic, they were, officially, only betrothed. Natalia would be joining Fleur, officially, and then, in the future, they would be getting married. Who would be first, whether would it be jointly done, or even where it would happen, hadn't been discussed.

This was an agreement for future political alignment, economic cooperation and, most importantly, for Harry, support for the upcoming conflict. Though the Pavlov family hadn't been given the full knowledge, as the Delacour's had been prior to their union, Harry wasn't naive enough to believe they didn't know it was inevitable.

Harry took a quick second to breathe deeply and then he opened the doors. The ballet practice was in full swing already and there was a sole occupant three quarts of the way to the back in the set of seats to the right of centre, but not along the wall. Harry recognized it as Ivan Pavlov.

The steps blurred together as Harry made his way to the elder man who may become his family. After a quick exchange of greetings, and the casting of privacy spells, they were sitting a chair apart and both watching the stage. Harry's eyes drifted across all the dancers until he found Natalia, then, they stayed glued on her.

"I've spent time talking, my wife and I both, about our last conversation. We found great irony in that it was her passion and bullheaded stubbornness that has brought an appropriate match for her," he shook his head slowly and dipped his chin. "All of our efforts wasted and the partial estrangement of our daughter was for nought," he gave a dark hollow chuckle as he shook his head once more.

"It's the parents prerogative to push the child. To want to see her be taken care of and succeed. Her understanding of the world is still lacking. Her desires and dreams of a girl. As one matures and comes into their own, priorities shift and the direction your parents provided begins to resonate, making sense, retrospectively."

That made sense, though it was a bit of a foreign concept to him. Dumbledore, before this year, was the only one to impart such advice, however little.

Ivan switched his attention to the papers that Harry had placed on the seat between them. He tapped it with his wand, which Harry had missed him withdrawing, and then remarked, "Your solicitor's seal," he murmured, nodding to himself. "I'll have our solicitor check it over before we complete it."

Harry turned his attention back to the stage as Ivan was paging through the agreement. He watched Natalia be coached on a specific motion, the variation between what she was doing and supposed to be doing was lost on him. The nuances of ballet were simply beyond him.

Harry couldn't help but wonder if this was the right step, even now. Fleur talked a good game, that this was fine and she could handle it, but his gut told him 'her fine' and 'his fine' wouldn't be the same.

But, at the end of the day, it was his decision and something she was well aware of as an expected outcome. Besides, the man beside him would play a key role in his upcoming plan, the one he still hadn't told his advisors he was going through with. Fleur would back him and he'd call in the debt to Viktor. The closer he came to it, the more he was convinced of its necessity.

"Practice is ending and I don't believe my presence is needed; I'll leave you and Natalia on your own. But, before I leave you with my daughter, did Horace make any headway into your former friend, Miss Granger's curious departure?"

Harry's neck whipped around and he scrutinized the elder man, who was looking back at him impassively. "I'll take your silence as no." He stood up now and slipped the contract into the interior of his coat.

"I had to look into it. My wife wouldn't have had it any other way. Your inseparable friend suddenly bolts for America," he shook his head and pursed his lips. "It wouldn't have been right of us to contract our daughter to someone that may have done something to drive her away."

Harry grit his teeth. He knew the man was dragging it out for his amusement. His voice a lazy drawl with enough not so hidden smugness, just enough to let Harry know he knew how his words would affect him.

"Imagine my surprise when I found out she left, supposedly, for her own protection and the future safety of her family," he sneered the last word.

"And you found out who was responsible for that?" Harry asked, trying to keep his obvious interest somewhat veiled.

"Perhaps," Ivan's deep voice rumbled out. "I know who I believe to be responsible, though no indisputable evidence will ever be found."

Harry's eyes didn't leave Ivan's and the muscles of his body tightened of their own accord.

"Cyrus Greengrass is the one I suspect, having assisted others who fled the Blood War, to America. He'd have the motive, funds and connections."

Ivan placed his large hand on Harry's shoulder and looked down at the seated teen. "I'll contact Horace once things are looked over," he released his hold on Harry and walked out of the row. He halted his motion and turned to look back at Harry, shook his head and then exited.

Harry let out a deep breath and felt his body relax. Talking with Ivan was always a nerve-wracking experience. He had to be so guarded and cautious in what he said and showed. He could feel his heart rate lower and the tension falling off his shoulders.

Horace hadn't made a lot of headway, but now Harry was wondering about the veracity of his fact-finding mission. Were the Pavlovs trying to get him to doubt one of his stalwart allies or had they found out the truth of the matter?

Harry groaned as he slumped back into his seat, running his hand over his face then rubbing his forehead. He had just sorted things out with Daphne and didn't need a complication thrown back into their tentative restart.

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. This wasn't something he could sort out right now and the annoyed Triwizard Champion could tell Natalia's session was just about to end. Not even a few minutes later, Natalia was bounding up the aisle and wrapping Harry up in a hug.

"Daddy told me things had been worked out! I'm so happppy!" she exclaimed into his shoulder, not relenting her tight grip on him. Upon releasing him, she pushed up on her tippy toes and pressed her lips into his. After the short sweet kiss, she grabbed his hand but had only backed up a few inches and was still faced toward him.

"Let's get out of here; are you ready to go?" Harry inspected her attire and noticed all he could see were tight-fitting pants, or leggings, of some sort, and a pullover, hiding whatever she had on underneath.

"Yes, did you have anywhere in mind?"

Harry considered that as he started moving, Natalia pivoted out of his way and fell into step with him, their hands still connected. "Not really, the usual walk in the park was about all that I had in mind."

Natalia's soft smile was answer enough and they shortly found themselves treading along a familiar path.

As they walked, with no words being spoken, Harry's thoughts fell into the familiar pattern of counting each step. Un, deux, et, trois, keeping the four-part counting, instead of the asinine three-fold repetition.

"You seem...quiet," Harry stated, not yet sure on what was up with her. She'd been practically vibrating when she had first hugged him and then had become silent and withdrawn, not that she'd physically pulled her hand back from holding his.

"It's...just...a lot," Natalia began, her voice slow and unsure. "I know we had talked about having sex before the contract, signing the courting contract, and other options, with Daphne, but you didn't go for any of them…."

She hung her words out, inviting Harry to explain. He'd not written in their journal about it, nor had they talked about it.

"I thought about it and considered what would be gained by following the plan we had talked about. It just didn't offer enough upside and opened me up to a fair bit of downside."

"Oh," Natalia said, looking at the ground. "I th-thought you may not have wanted to...after being with Fleur."

Harry came to an immediate stop and used his grip on her hand to pull her into him. He gently grabbed her chin, with just his forefinger and thumb, and waited until her eyes rose to meet his. "Don't think like that. This whole situation is messed up. I'm a Potter, a Black. A prodigy, the supposed successor to Dumbledore. I'm an evil parselmouth and the next coming of You-Know-Who. Every day, people shove their expectations on me and accept or reject what they see of me, versus the image they expect me to portray."

"If you were Natalia No-name, and I was Harry Different-no-name, then we could've danced at the Yule Ball, kissed out in the gardens and become boyfriend and girlfriend. Without pressure and expectations, we could've gotten engaged and married in a lovely and normal life," he sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

Grasping both of Natalia's hands, after turning to face each other, Harry continued, "When I'm with you, I feel normal. Like we're just two teens going for a walk in the park," he paused and grinned at his lame line that elicited a weak giggle from Natalia.

"I mean, with Fleur, it's kind of hard to not see her as the almost unattainable princess. She's ethereal in her beauty and lives in a house that barely fits that word." Harry's head dropped, he closed his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat.

"I grew up in a cupboard. I didn't have my own set of clothes until I got my Hogwarts robes…" Harry shook his head for and released a deep breath. "I love Fleur, and her family, but sometimes it feels surreal, too surreal. Like at some point, I'm just going to wake back up under the cupboard and hope a spider visits me so I'm not just lying in the dark all by myself, night after night."

Natalia stepped forward and closed the distance between them, her arms wrapped around Harry and she just held him. "I'd read your home life was expected to be neglectful but not like that."

Harry shrugged. "Nobody really knows," Harry admitted.

"I don't understand, though," Natalia began in a small voice, allowing some space between their bodies, "Fleur and I are similar. The Pavlov and Delacour families are upper class, and not even modestly so."

Harry laughed, though not callously or mockingly, "And look at you. A sweater that's plain with some old tights put on. Some small diamond stud earrings and a thin necklace. You have chosen to study ballet and work incredibly hard at doing so. You might have manipulated things to some degree but you could have made your life a whole lot easier."

Harry's green eyes bore into Natalia and the features of his face were like stone. "How many others did your parents suggest? How many options did you have to live a quiet, privileged life, where all you would need to do would be to get along with your match and do whatever you wanted?"

Harry didn't need her to verbalize the answer. Slughorn had already educated him. There would have been over a dozen viable candidates within only a couple years of her age. If they had waited until she was older, then it would have been even greater. Likewise, Fleur had extensive prospects and Daphne would have had some, though nowhere near to the same degree. The Greengrass family is well thought of and connected, but it wasn't in the same league as the other two, nor was their lack of birthing multiple heirs helpful.

"Instead, you went after something you love. You may have been given the best of tutors, but it was only your work ethic and insistence to continue that made you into such a skilled dancer. Many others could have been given the opportunity and never amounted to what you have."

Natalia closed the gap between them again and gave him a crushing hug. Her arms clung around him desperately and her head nuzzled into his chest. There was no immediate sign of her being willing to relinquish her hold on him, and it wasn't long before Harry could hear she was quietly crying.

Harry brought his one arm up, lifting off her back, and he began to run his fingers along and through her hair. Gently, he continued to pat her head. This wasn't the response he had expected. A declaration of love, a reciprocation of her admiration of him, or even just Natalia telling him that she loved Harry.

Instead of something he would have guessed, he had a crying girl in his arms. Hopefully, these were tears of happiness, though he didn't know if they were as of yet.

"Natalia?"

The girl in question looked up, tear stains on her cheeks. "I love you, Harry. I hope you know that," she said in a quiet voice that broke a little as she spoke.

Harry nodded and let the simple action be his response. He wanted to believe it but anything to do with the Pavlov family had an addendum attached. It was such a delicate dance. Every time they stepped together, he had to question. Was it routine, was it with a hidden purpose, or were they just enjoying the moment and each other's company?

Life wasn't forthcoming with answers. Harry had been learning to listen to his instincts, do his best at all things and learn from the inevitable mistakes and consequences that came with them.

"Your family knows I'm doing rituals?"

"Yes," she said, her head buried in his chest again, so it came out as little more than a mumble.

"One of the terms is their acceptance that I want you to participate in a ritual that requires you to be a virgin." It wasn't an awkward topic to broach but a necessary one. "You must also be a willing participant, your body, and your magic," Harry clarified, his chin tucked into his chest as he looked down at the ballerina he held in his arms.

"Th-that's fine."

"I just thought you should know," It gnawed at him that he wasn't disclosing this to her. If the ritual was to be believed, all her loyalties would be shifted to him, permanently. She could be beholden to no other over him. What that looked like practically, he didn't know.

"Wh-when would it be?" The earlier emotional display was still affecting the Dursmstrang student.

"Once the contract is signed. Tomorrow, in a few days, or eight days from now are all options. It can't be held off too long, as I can only do so many rituals and I'm on a set schedule."

"Did you do it with Fleur too?" Of all the questions Harry expected, he didn't think this would be what she asked. Did she not care about what effects it might have on her? Perhaps she trusted him enough to not believe he would do anything purposefully harmful to her.

"A ritual yes, but not this one. Only you will end up doing it."

Natalia finally unlatched her arms and looked up at him with big eyes. "Can we go and sit on the bench together? I'd like that."

Harry gave her a reassuring smile and responded, "Of course."

Instead of having more questions about the ritual, it appeared Natalia was mollified to know it was something special, just for her. He was treating both of them, equally, one ritual each, and that appeared to be enough for her.

Upon sitting, Natalia cuddled into Harry and the two stayed seated, enjoying each other's embrace on this cloudy night. It reminded Harry of how quiet and shy she was when they were first getting to know each other, in this park, after dancing together.

"Did you want to take turns asking questions again?" Harry asked, some mirth in his voice.

Instead of answering, Natalia surprised Harry and asked the first question. "Do you plan on adding Daphne, too?"

Harry immediately regretted opening this up, not really, but Natalia wasn't opening up with any soft questions. "I...don't know. We kind of had a bit of a blowup and are restarting. We're going to the upcoming ball together and I don't know beyond that."

"Why do you ask?" Harry queried after Natalia had not responded or asked for an expansion of the explanation.

Natalia shrugged, though her one shoulder only pushed into Harry's chest and didn't move much. "I thought you'd have a contract with her by now. I thought you'd pick them over me," she admitted in a small voice.

Harry pulled her tighter in his arms. "Without complications, things would be so much simpler..." Harry began, wistfully, his eyes staring off into the sky. "But it doesn't do to dwell on dreams and forget to live." The haunting words of Dumbledore came back to him at this moment.

"It doesn't…" Natalia agreed. "Would you prefer to do the ritual right away or wait a bit?"

Harry blinked at the question. Was she asking whether he wanted to have sex with her quickly or put it off? It felt like a trap question. "You figured it involved sex then?" he asked rhetorically. "There isn't a part of me that doesn't wish we could go back to the Yule Ball and then rip that dress off you," Harry shivered just thinking about it. That night had been so instrumental for him.

Looking back, it felt like his coming of age. No longer was he willing to settle for mediocrity. He'd planned to dominate the night. Nobody would dance better than he and Natalia. There wouldn't be a couple that wouldn't be envious of them. They'd be in the spotlight and the talk of the Wizarding World and he'd accomplished that goal.

"I wouldn't have minded," Natalia mumbled into his chest, before burying her head into his chest.

"But to answer your question, whenever you'd prefer. I've enjoyed sleeping with you and taking that final step won't be a hardship," he smirked and grinned down at her. Now that he'd experienced it, he felt far more comfortable talking about sex.

Harry couldn't tell if she was blushing but presumed she was by her silence.

Taking her quiet for confirmation that he'd answered her questions to her satisfaction, Harry decided to go with a question he wanted to get to, "With Fleur already being contracted to me," there was no way Harry was going to allow the Pavlov family to know he was mated to her already, "how do you envision two, potentially even three, wives working out? Are you going to be okay with Fleur, even? You didn't get along when I've been around you both…"

Natalia squirmed against him and didn't begin to answer immediately and Harry could almost hear her thinking. "I don't know. Like, I get that there are quite a lot of double marriages but I'd never thought it could happen for me…"

Harry ran his hand up and down her back as he leaned back, so his eyes could appraise her better as she answered. He was struck by the air of resignation that was around her. They were more than likely about to be getting promised to each other and she's resigned to it? Or was it just the question that had her in a bit of a funk?

"I think we'll just adjust and deal with it. It's not like it's going to be changing. We'll have to just alternate nights in your bed, for sleeping," she clarified, "and work with it." Her chin lifted and he could see a ghost of a smile forming, even if there was still a melancholic feel to her disposition.

"But it's not all bad. I won't have to attend every function, ball and societal event that you'll have to be at," she smirked at him mischievously. "Plus, I won't have to pop out a half dozen kids and look after them all," she shuddered at the thought of it. "With Fleur, she'll cover Potter and Delacour; for me, it's just the Black family and one or two beyond that."

"I was surprised by that. I didn't think your father would accept Fleur's progeny as first in line for the Potters and not getting the same agreement for the Black family. If I married Daphne, too, then your children would inherit after hers." That was one impediment that they had expected to have significant push back on. But, instead of heavy negotiations, they were willing to take financial considerations, and other tweaks, to accept it. Honestly, it only served to worry Harry more.

The real sort of understanding, on their easy capitulation, was that they wanted the deal done and had correctly read the landscape, that it wasn't going to be on the table, as an option.

"I think Father's concern was on the business arrangements and the political aspect of it. Having the Potter and Delacour names attached to ours will rehabilitate our image and that was the primary goal. A secondary is achieved by tying in with your allies. The economic long term opportunities to go along with it were too tempting."

The thoughts mirrored his own but Harry had an inkling that there was another side to things that had yet to be revealed. Harry didn't say anything, he let her words filter through his mind as he looked back over at their beautiful surroundings.

Being Natalia's question next, Harry allowed his thoughts to run wild. Natalia hadn't commented on getting along with Fleur but her answer allowed for the acceptance of the situation. It had felt like more of acknowledging that this is where things were heading and she'd make the best of it. It was the air of resignation that still clung to her, even now, that worried him.

Where was her elation at getting together with him? Where was her fire and tenacity to go after what she wanted and take it for herself? The two parts that had attracted him to the young ballerina were, apparently, lying dormant within her.

It might've given him pause from pursuing her, if his audacious plan didn't hinge on the Pavlov family's involvement. They weren't going to be in on the main part of it, but they would be dealing with the fallout. Ackerly was already drawing up the binding contracts; the solicitor did not know what it was for and he wasn't required to.

"Are you sure you want this?" The quiet words floated up to his ears and brought with them a tenor that he couldn't quite place.

Was this all because she was doubting her worth? Just insecurities of her self image versus Fleur, and even Daphne?

"Look, Natalia. You'll get away from your family with this. You'll get to pursue dance, help me with politics and we'll be happy together, won't we?" There was no fire in her eyes, just a soft pleading and it made him question his own words.

"I hope so," Natalia said with her head bowing and burrowing into his chest again.

The dichotomy of the words and actions, once again, perplexed him. Loving with her body language and despondent with her words. Perhaps it was just the topic and the concern of her family. "How's your ballet going? Are you performing anytime soon?"

A genuine smile blossomed on her face and she rubbed Harry's arm with affection. "Not too long. It'll be a private function but you'll have a ticket." Her eyes glinted in amusement, "I might even be charitable enough to get some for Fleur and Daphne too."

Harry's lips quirked upward and he lifted his eyebrows in amusement. "You'd want them to attend with me?" he asked lightly.

Natalia placed her palm on his chest and used it to push herself away from him, shooting him a shy look as she did so, "If they are going to be around, I may as well try and become friends with them, if not sisters, eventually."

That would be ideal, Harry thought. The constant inclusion of Daphne was a little strange. Had they become so close that Natalia would push for her, even if that meant sharing Harry with one more?

"I'm sure it'd be a nice olive branch, toward better relations in the future." Harry shifted in his seat, the leg Natalia had been leaning on and had recently vacated.

"Speaking of Fleur and Daphne, are either going to be staying with you tonight?" Left unsaid was her clear desire to do so.

"Neither of them are around. Daphne returned home to study under Cyrus and Fleur is heading home for the weekend. I'll be meeting Daphne at the ball, we're going together, but that's about it for my plans."

"Then, can I stay over tonight as well as Sunday?" Natalia asked, hope alight in her eyes as she shifted in her seat, now just resting her head on his shoulder and intertwining their hands.

"I'd like that. Saturday too, maybe. I don't think Daphne would be staying over with me or anything."

Natalia shook her head, rolling it against his shoulder, "No, have your night with her."

Harry looked at her for a moment and let the comment pass without a reply.

"Did they tell you about the final task yet?" Natalia questioned.

"No," Harry frowned in annoyance, "but it shouldn't be too long now, I hope. It's generally a maze, gauntlet or race through obstacles, historically. I doubt they'll keep the same plan as before, but you never really know…"

"I'm sure you'll do great," Natalia said and used her far too free hand to rub up and down his thigh. "I don't think anyone expects anyone other than you to win it," she said with confidence.

"We'll see. Like in quidditch, anything can happen. I'll do my best, and that's all I can promise." While he wanted to win the tournament, he had far more pressing things going on in his life, it just wasn't a major consideration for him, beyond ensuring he didn't get injured or killed in it.

"Can we go now, though? If we're going to be doing that ritual, I'd like to have some experience beyond snogging," she turned and then stood up, offering her other hand to help pull him up.

"We can't actually...err…do it. You know that, right?"

Natalia pulled him up and rolled her eyes. "There's a lot we can still do that we haven't done yet."

Harry nodded, liking the sound of that.

"Besides, the girls have been giving me tips and tricks on how to make use of my flexibility for The Harry Potter," she laughed and giggled after saying that, though her cheeks were red from blushing at how forward she was acting.

Not one to pass on such an opportunity, Harry dispelled the privacy spells he had set up earlier and prepared to take her back to the Chamber. As he took a moment to look at the girl whose hands he was still holding, Harry was glad that the fire and tenacity were coming back to the forefront. This was the Natalia he was so attracted to and he'd relish this evening for all it was worth.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

AN:

Gah! It took another month to get this one done! Apologizing isn't needed, I've just been busy and the slow update simply reflects that. I'm probably as annoyed as anyone else that it's taken so long recently but it is what it is. Though I should give the warning now, I've got a few weeks of work being done at my house and I have no idea how that will, or won't, affect my writing availability.

I'm around on the discord server, link in my profile, and you can all see I'm alive and well there.

Thanks to my betas, Nauze & Triage, for all their hard work!