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The conversation I had with Headmaster Dumbledore was brief and simple, but loaded with deep and sentimental meanings.
Meanings that, for the most part, were obvious to anyone who bothered to look… while the rest was only noticeable to those capable of reading between the lines.
And in my case, besides being able to read those between-the-lines meanings, I also already had a good understanding of the Headmaster's personality and thoughts, shaped by his tragic history.
This conversation served for us to say our true thoughts, sharing with each other our points of view, opinions, and choices — which I did in a somewhat aggressive way, I admit.
But fortunately, at the end of this conversation, the two of us sort of made peace.
Not that we had argued or anything like that, but it was a relief to be able to talk to him without a strange and troubled atmosphere hanging between us.
And I was sure that, from the feelings I had sensed from the Headmaster, he was just as relieved as I was.
But well… putting that moment aside.
After this little conversation with the Headmaster ended, he decided he wouldn't keep bothering me and would let me rest properly.
He then said goodbye to me before leaving the Room of Requirement, leaving me alone in the spacious common room.
Now finally alone, I rested my head on the back of the armchair, staring at the beautiful starry sky of the Room of Requirement that imitated the ceiling of the Great Hall.
Watching the bright and captivating stars that crossed the dark sky, my mind began to wander.
And, without any intention, I found myself unconsciously thinking about everything that had happened throughout the day.
Memories, sensations, reflections, thoughts about what I could have done better or differently… all of that rushed through my mind in a whirlwind.
'Sigh… Today was definitely the hardest, most troubled and tense day of all since I arrived in the wizarding world' I muttered silently.
Tiredly, I ran a hand over my face, 'And to think that all this chaos lasted less than 5 hours… and still managed to wear me out this much…'
*Tap… tap… tap… tap…*
Then, breaking the silence of the room, I heard light footsteps approaching me, pulling me out of my thoughts.
"Hmm?" with a curious look, I lifted my head.
As soon as I did that, I saw her.
Standing there, right in front of me and in complete silence, was Fleur, staring at me with her lips slightly pursed.
She was wearing a pale-blue silk nightgown, delicate and soft, with a matching silk robe over it. White lace decorated the hem of the nightgown. The entire set looked elegant, comfortable, and undeniably attractive.
Her delicate, small feet were touching the cold floor, bare — which explained why I hadn't heard her approach until she was right in front of me.
Pulling my gaze away from the practically perfect figure of my Veela friend, I focused on her face, giving her a small smile.
"So, princess, what are you doing awa—"
Before I could even finish my sentence, I was surprised by Fleur.
Without any warning, she simply threw herself into my arms.
Her slender arms wrapped around my waist in a crushing grip, while she buried her face in my chest.
Confused, I looked down at the French witch hugging me.
"Fleur?" I called her, placing my hand on her shoulder.
In response, she tightened her hold even more, almost knocking the breath out of me.
'Where the hell was she hiding all this strength?!' I wondered, startled.
"Just… stay," I then heard a muffled murmur coming from her, making me stop.
Slowly, the French witch lifted her head. Her slightly watery blue eyes were fixed on mine.
"Just let me hug you a little longer… please," she asked, with a vulnerable and needy expression.
Hearing her fragile plea, I blinked — stunned and, I admit, a little panicked.
But when I felt her emotions of sadness and worry, mixed with a great deal of relief and affection, I understood.
Right now, Fleur just needed someone.
She wanted someone she could lean on and seek comfort from. Someone trustworthy with whom she could finally vent after holding everything inside the whole night.
A person who would listen to her, comfort her, and calm her when she began to share her thoughts and emotions — emotions I could feel were begging to be released.
And the person she chose for that… was me.
Not her parents. Not her Headmistress. Not even her little sister.
The person she wanted near her in this emotional moment was me, her friend from another school.
But considering all the factors, that wasn't so unexpected.
Talking about emotional matters with family or with a figure of authority was often uncomfortable or awkward.
That's why the only option left to her was to open up to a friend. And in this case, besides me being one of the few awake at this hour, I was also one of the few friends she had at the school.
In fact, I was one of her few friends not only in Hogwarts, but in the whole world — which, if we stop to think about it, was a rather sad reality.
Because of her Veela nature, and all the prejudice and envy that came with it, Fleur had no friends in Beauxbatons or in the rest of France.
The first true friends she made in her life, besides me, were the Golden Trio and Luna — the group I introduced her to during our combat lessons.
And at this moment, considering our closeness and connection, I was almost sure she already considered me her best friend.
(Unfortunately, I had no idea that this position had been stolen by Harry… and, more importantly, that Fleur was reserving a much more intimate and closer spot for me.)
But well, getting back to the point…
Besides our friendship, I was also the one who went through the whole graveyard disaster by her side. I was the one who made the decision to send her away to protect her.
I was the one who understood, better than anyone, what she was feeling right now — except Harry, of course.
'Sigh, I should have paid more attention to Fleur… I didn't think about how all this would affect her,' I thought, looking with pity at the emotional girl holding onto me.
So, with a gentle and somewhat guilty expression, I gave in to her embrace.
I placed one of my hands on her back, rubbing gently. Meanwhile, my other hand rested on her head before I began running it through her golden hair with careful affection.
Feeling my affectionate touches, Fleur practically melted in my arms.
All the worry, fear, and anguish she had been feeling vanished like magic, replaced by satisfaction, happiness, and calm.
Looking at her, with a small smile on her face, I chuckled lightly.
"What?" she asked, lifting her head just enough to look at me.
"Well… I was just thinking about how everyone says Veelas are sort of like birds, you know," I began, a bit amused, "But now, looking at you, you look more like a lost kitten."
Hearing that, she puffed out her cheeks.
"Who's the lost kitten here?" she grumbled, punching my chest without much force.
"Calm down, mon chaton… you don't want to be known as the aggressive kitten now, do you?" I joked, holding her raised fist.
"I'm not an aggressive kit—" Fleur began to say, before stopping.
Staring at me, she narrowed her eyes, "Wait. Did you just call me 'my kitten'… in French?"
"Hmm… Maybe?"
"Ethan Night!" and then, with renewed vigor, she restarted her attack.
Of course, all of this was just playfulness. She wasn't actually angry about the nickname I gave her.
In fact, it was the opposite.
Fleur was completely happy — even touched — because mon chaton was a cute nickname used by family… or by couples.
'…!'
While I tried to calm the French witch, I sensed strong emotions being directed toward the two of us.
Pausing, I shifted my attention away from the blonde girl in my arms, and turning my head, I looked toward the stairs leading to the second floor.
And there, standing at the foot of the stairs, a short distance from us, I saw another blonde girl — this time in a silver shade.
'Luna…' I thought, no longer surprised by how easily the peculiar little witch managed to approach me without alerting my senses.
The dreamy witch was staring at us without blinking, with an unreadable expression. And, just like that time on the Quidditch pitch, I could again feel a pulse of jealousy coming from her.
Noticing my silence, Fleur also stopped playing around. Lifting her head, she looked toward the spot I was staring at.
And the moment she saw Luna staring at us, she froze.
'Oh…' was the only thing the Beauxbatons student could think.
Fleur might not have an empathy ability like mine, but as a girl it wasn't hard to figure out what another girl was thinking and feeling.
Because of that, she easily noticed Luna's jealousy.
That realization made her fully aware of the situation the two of us were in.
And when it dawned on her that, in a way, she had taken advantage of the moment — getting close to me and acting intimately when no one else was around — a faint yet unsettling sense of guilt bloomed in her chest.
It wasn't true regret, but rather the uncomfortable feeling of having gained an unfair advantage... as if she had bent the rules of a game.
Yet alongside that guilt came a clear sense of satisfaction. And no matter how much she tried to suppress it, there was also a subtle, undeniable feeling of superiority.
To Fleur, this situation felt like she had gained the upper hand in a competition.
A competition only she and Luna truly understood.
End.
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