The Sweet Taste of Victory
Harry walked through the castle corridors towards the library.
Ever since they had arrived, the hallways had been gleaming, livelier and more modern than before, though of course, some of the paintings from the old castle still decorated the walls. At least the ones the house-elves had managed to rescue before Hogwarts was destroyed.
Among them, the one who truly should have been given top priority, to be honest, was Sir Cadogan.
The mad knight Harry and his group had once used to test the new golems.
"Come here, mangy dog! Stand and face my steel!" Sir Cadogan shouted the moment he spotted Harry, wildly slashing at him while remaining in a fighting stance inside his portrait.
"Hello, Sir Cadogan. I thought you'd been destroyed," Harry said calmly as he watched the mad knight trying to stab him, though obviously it was impossible.
"Don't speak such nonsense, demonic being! Even if I were destroyed, I would never be destroyed!" Sir Cadogan roared in a tone that made it abundantly clear the very idea was absurd to him.
"Right..." Harry replied in a neutral tone. As always, talking to this man was almost the same as listening to Red.
And speaking of Red...
"And where is that wretched servant of yours? Our epic battle has yet to reach its conclusion. During all this time I have trained, ready at last to pierce his hardened scales and claim victory!" Sir Cadogan declared, raising his sword with heroic flair.
"Well, he's busy right now. He's looking after someone for me," Harry answered calmly, as though he had nothing better to do than chat with a painting. Perhaps he was simply wasting time. He didn't seem to mind.
Sir Cadogan looked at him with interest and nodded.
"Mmm... I see," he said, nodding firmly with complete conviction. "Since time immemorial, dragons have guarded the world's greatest treasures. A decision worthy of a true knight," Sir Cadogan declared, accepting it for some reason without the slightest difficulty.
Harry raised an eyebrow but didn't interrupt him.
"They must be someone very precious to you if even a dragon stands watch over their safety," Sir Cadogan added, resting both hands on the pommel of his sword, his tone becoming unusually calm, almost like that of an old friend, momentarily forgetting their rivalry.
That drew a small smile from Harry, though the words made him pause in thought for a moment, his smile growing just a little softer.
"Well... yeah," Harry answered without much hesitation.
"Ohhh?"
The voice came from behind Harry, carrying barely concealed curiosity.
And it was far too familiar.
When Harry turned around, he found Fleur watching him with a smile that mixed amusement and satisfaction.
Standing beside her was Red.
Or at least, what remained of his dignity.
As every day since Harry had ordered him to follow Fleur around to annoy her, the dragon looked like the supposed guardian of his queen. Except, covered in mud and being dragged along by a chain Fleur held in one hand, he looked far more like a mischievous dog than a fearsome dragon.
Seeing Fleur's smile, Harry couldn't help closing his eyes for a moment, mentally directing a long string of insults at His Excellency from earlier.
Especially after seeing the delighted look on Fleur's face.
"So... I'm your most precious treasure, the one who needs protecting, am I?" Fleur asked as she approached without losing that smug smile. "Do you perhaps have something you'd like to tell me?" she asked, stepping far too close. Even her floral perfume reached Harry now, while her cocky smile hovered just a little too near.
Harry studied her quietly for a few seconds.
Fleur held his gaze without backing away.
"No? How strange..."
Before Fleur could finish her sentence, Harry silently raised both hands, gently cupped her cheeks, and gave her a calm smile.
Then Fleur felt his lips meet hers with such softness and sweetness that her eyes widened slightly in surprise.
For one brief instant...
Her mind simply stopped working.
But it lasted only a second before they separated again, Harry giving her a smile almost identical to the one she had once given him during the Triwizard Tournament.
Even the way he held her cheeks was exactly the same.
"If the Aurors show up, I'll testify that your intentions were good. I hope they take that into consideration when they come to arrest you for harassing a minor. It must be difficult trying to win someone over when the only obstacle you have left is waiting for my birthday," Harry said in a remarkably calm, confident tone.
Harry turned around and continued walking down the corridor as though nothing had happened, whistling a tune with an almost insulting level of calm.
Fleur remained standing perfectly still.
Even Red lifted his head to look at her curiously.
Several seconds passed before Fleur slowly raised a hand and brushed her own lips.
"How unfair..." she murmured softly as an expression somewhere between pride, happiness, and annoyance appeared on her face. "Don't think this is over, Potter."
But despite saying that, she couldn't completely hide the small smile escaping onto her lips.
Meanwhile, Harry, still whistling as he walked through the corridors, couldn't help licking his lips for a moment, wearing a proud grin.
"Sweet..." he murmured before continuing on as though nothing had happened.
Though he was interrupted a moment later when he finally came across another of the new professors, who was walking with several scrolls and a stack of books cradled in his arms.
If Harry remembered correctly, this should be Professor McGonagall's assistant for Gryffindor.
Harry tried to recall the names Hermione had mentioned.
It should be Professor Miller.
Harry greeted him with a respectful nod.
The professor briefly met his gaze, returned the nod, and, without changing his serious, somewhat cold expression, continued walking. Harry would have bet the man had never been a single minute late in his entire life. He wore round silver spectacles, and his robes were immaculate, exactly as one would expect from a professor who followed every rule. His dark hair was cut very short, almost military-style, and he didn't have a single hair on his face, making it obvious he took great care with his appearance.
It was as though his very existence declared:
If McGonagall had the perfect assistant, it would be this man.
Harry watched him quietly for another moment.
"Another one...?" Harry muttered almost to himself, his brow barely furrowing.
Professor Miller seemed to hear him and came to an abrupt stop. He turned to face Harry.
"Excuse me?" he asked without changing his expression. "Did you say something?"
"Ah, no. Sorry, Professor. I was just thinking out loud," Harry replied at once. "Do you need a hand?" he asked out of simple courtesy, looking at the professor's arms full of books and scrolls.
"That won't be necessary, student," Miller replied calmly as he looked over Harry's robes, particularly the Ravenclaw badge on his chest. "I assume you're a second-year Ravenclaw student. In that case, you should probably hurry. Your second-year Divination lesson with Professor Trelawney will be starting shortly," the professor said in a serious tone.
Harry looked at him in mild surprise.
"Do you actually remember everyone's timetable?" he couldn't help asking.
"Of course," Miller replied as he adjusted his spectacles for a moment, balancing the entire weight of the books and scrolls in one hand while doing so. As though the answer were so obvious he couldn't understand why Harry had even asked. "It's what an assistant should do. Now, if you'll excuse me, I would rather not be late," Miller said, ending the conversation right there. He gave Harry another nod before continuing on his way, resuming his pace at exactly the same rhythm as before he had stopped.