Harry Potter :Diamond Heart

Perhaps I will incapacitate him myself.

He was probably capable of it by now, especially if he caught him by surprise.

It had occurred to him that he was about to share something he had not shared with anyone yet, and it was one of his most precious secrets about the school. Still, Fleur would not be here long, and he doubted she would share anything he told with anyone else. They seemed a little too similar for that.

'This,' he gestured calmly at the blank space of wall opposite what had to be Hogwarts' worst tapestry, 'is the Room of Requirement.'

To her credit Fleur looked more intrigued than sceptical. 'How does it work?' she asked, tilting her head to one side to regard the wall from a different angle. Her action sent her silver hair cascading over her ear and onto her shoulder.

'Imagine what you want,' Harry told her, 'and the room will provide. It has to adhere to the laws, though, so no food.'

The door that appeared on the wall was very different to the thick, stout wooden doors of Hogwarts'. It had a slender, elegant appearance and was painted a very light shade of blue.

'How ingenious,' Fleur remarked, reaching out to touch the door very tentatively. 'I suppose we should go in.'

It was clearly her own room that she had imagined. Harry could understand that. If he had ever had a room that had been his enough he might have tried to recreate it to.

It was a window into the mind of Fleur Delacour. Harry gazed through in avid curiosity.

Everything was kept neat, from the bed, to the shelves of books and, where her collection spilt over onto the floor, the towering stacks that rose almost to the ceiling. A vast collection of tiny, enchanted items surrounded everything in a deliberate, ornamental scatter.

'You can change it from within,' he told her, as she shifted slightly uncomfortably. Her eyes had immediately fallen on the single picture in the room. Two almost identical, silver-haired girls, one with eyes of deep blue, the other with eyes touched by grey, both were smiling.

Gabrielle, Harry surmised. Fleur evidently loved her little sister very much.

'Thank you,' the french witch said quietly and the room began to shift around him into something much larger.

The ceiling transitioned into a high, arched vault similar to that of the only cathedral Harry had ever been in. There were long, tall windows of thin glass down either side. They looked out onto mountains and a sparse woodland of gnarled, short pine trees. The stonework was pale ivory, broken only be decorative terracotta tiles.

'Beauxbatons' gallery,' Fleur informed him. 'We have no Great Hall, only an open forum, when winter comes this is where large groups gather.'

'I can understand why you do not find Hogwarts attractive.' If all of Fleur's school was like this then Hogwarts was, for all Harry loved it, rather ugly in comparison.

'It is not a beautiful place,' Fleur agreed, 'but we do not have a room such as this, either.'

Harry thought that was probably the most complimentary thing she had ever said about his school. 'Tell me, Harry,' she said, with sudden confidence, 'do you know how to dance?'

'No.' The beginnings of regret started to seep in. Dancing was something he wanted to spend as little time doing as possible. Harry had no fear of tripping, or falling, he expected with practice he could be every bit as elegant as was necessary. It was the partner he objected to.

The treacherous room had started playing music, Fleur's desire to dance was clearly stronger than his will not too. It was something of a surprise to him since he could think of few things he wanted to do less.

'My date will have to dance. If you can dodge a dragon, you can avoid standing on my feet, so there are only the steps to be learnt.' Fleur stepped very very close to him. Harry froze.

He could feel the warm that emanated from her and the brush of her breathe against his face. She was too close. It was wrong.

Fleur was studying him with bright, blue eyes.

'You do not like the closeness, do you?' she asked after a while. Harry noted that she did not step back.

'No,' he answered shortly. The music drifted on underneath their voices, the happy, fast-paced tune oblivious to his emotions.

'I can try and alleviate your discomfort,' she offered. 'You will not feel it if you pay attention to me.' Harry grasped instantly what she meant. Fleur Delacour was willing to use her allure on him. She had done it before, of course, but never with the intention of making things better for him, and never at the cost of the one thing she gained from attending the Yule Ball with him.

'I will be fine,' he managed, twisting his face into Tom Riddle's brilliant smile. He would never allow her to do something like that. He had his own pride.

Something slightly unkind marred Fleur's face and she reached out to firmly, but gently take his hand in hers. Her other drew his arm about her waist and pulled them so close there was less than an inch between his body and hers.

'These are the steps,' Fleur murmured, her breath washing over his cheek. She still smelt of burnt holly leaves. It was a sharp, sweet smell that Harry found hard to ignore.

In the end focusing on learning the motions of the dance was the best way for him to forget how close she was to him and he became proficient enough to be released.

It was an instant relief.

Harry's heart relaxed its pounding and his body, that had remained tense the entire time, slackened ever so slightly. A very small sigh escaped his lips.

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