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(P).(A).(T).(R).(E).(O).(N)
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"And there's no other choice?" he asked weakly.
Sebastian shrugged. "Your may choose to decline, of course," he said with brutal honesty. "If that is the case, then I will not 'old it against you."
Harry surged to his feet, incensed by the calm delivery of such a callous statement. "But you said she'll die!" he snapped angrily.
"Yes," said Sebastian simply.
Harry's hands clenched unconsciously into fists as he stalked back to stare into the fire. He couldn't believe the unfairness of his life! He had nothing against Fleur – she was a beautiful woman, if a bit snobbish for his tastes – but to be forced to marry her? It was wrong on so very many levels!
And regardless of what Sebastian said...
"No," he declared, still facing the fire, his voice ringing out in the otherwise silent room. "That's not a choice! If I say no, then I might as well cast Avada Kedavra right now, and I am not a bloody murderer!"
More silence was his only answer, and he turned to see Sebastian watching him with a tear running down his cheek. That, more than anything, served to cool his anger; the man clearly did not like this any more than Harry did. He had to give the guy credit: on the outside he was remarkably calm, and it was probably a very useful skill to have.
Harry wondered if he could learn it.
His anger finally abating, he sighed heavily and ran his hand through his hair. This was a lot to take in, and he had no idea where to even start! And they had less than thirty days? Talk about short notice!
"What does Fleur think?" he asked softly.
Sebastian nodded his approval of the question. "She does not wish to die, 'Arry," he said honestly. "She is no more 'appy with this than you are, but she does not wish to die."
Harry deflated and sank back into the chair. He knew it was the right thing to do. He could not kill someone even through inaction; it simply wasn't a part of him. Vague dreams in the back of his head crumbled and died, but he ignored them as best he could; there simply was no choice.
Hermione was going to flip! She would be beside herself with worry, and probably rail against the injustices of the Wizarding world, which he could only agree with at the moment. Then she would run to the library and research it to death, but he was reasonably certain she would come up dry. Sebastian did not strike him as anything less than honest.
And when Ron found out...
Harry paled at the realization of what that would entail! His so-called best friend had a jealous streak a mile wide, and it was a well-known fact that he could not get enough of Fleur! Harry often caught him staring across the room at her, though he never pointed it out. He could already hear the oncoming tirade ringing in his ears, and a foreboding feeling overcame him.
Closing his eyes, he tried to picture what the rest of the school would say, but all he knew was that it would be a scandal of magnificent proportions! Rita Skeeter would probably spin it as some sort of intentional entrapment by the evil veela, and the public would go nuts! Did Sebastian have any idea just how difficult this would be?
Harry couldn't catch his breath. Scenario after scenario played themselves out in his mind, each worse than the last. He was a celebrity, and the public loved to hate celebrities! Why was his life so bloody difficult? Why couldn't he just be normal?
And then a comforting warmth suddenly overcame him, and as his breathing slowed, he looked up to see a very concerned Sebastian holding a wand on him.
"Just a Calming Charm," he explained. "Better?"
Harry nodded weakly, and Sebastian came forward to kneel in front of him. "I am truly sorry, 'Arry," he said sincerely. "I know that this is difficult for you. I wish that things could be different."
Harry nodded again and put his head in his hands. Calming Charm or not, he couldn't shake the images from his mind! Predominant among them was one of him trying to protect Fleur from a mob of angry wizards in Diagon Alley. It was sadly possible!
But what could he do? How would they get the public to accept it? He was fourteen years old, for Merlin's sake! There was no possible way that he could see, and he hadn't nearly the knowledge to deal with something like this!
Maybe France would be better? At this rate, he would be safer there anyway...
"The press will be a problem," he finally said, his voice hoarse and hushed. "I don't know what we'll do, sir. They'll rip her to shreds, and I don't know how to stop it from happening."
Sebastian placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he couldn't help his flinch at the contact, though the man ignored it. "Let me deal with the press, 'Arry," he offered. "I 'ave a great deal of experience with them. We will find a way, I promise you."
Harry finally sighed and looked up, and once again noted the genuine concern in the man's gaze. He didn't know about Fleur, but her father at least was a decent man, that much he was certain of. If only they had come to know each other under different circumstances...
"I'll do it," he whispered quietly. "I won't let her die."
Sebastian stared into his eyes for a long moment, searching out the truth, before finally nodding and squeezing his shoulder. "Thank you, 'Arry," he said with genuine emotion. "Let us postpone our meal. You are exhausted, and you 'ave a great deal to consider. You may rest on the couch, and we can speak further after you 'ave slept for a time. Your 'ead will be clearer then."
As much as he hated to admit it, Harry had to agree that it was a good idea. His emotions were ragged, and he needed to let all this settle for a while. Maybe then he could find something positive about the situation, which was something he sorely needed.
As he drifted off ten minutes later, he realized that the most frightening thing of all was that he had to talk to Fleur.
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(P).(A).(T).(R).(E).(O).(N)
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