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A Flower Turned Thorny

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September 21, 1992, 3:30 PM, Near The Quidditch Pitch

Harry Potter

Halfway through his self-imposed Quidditch practice, Harry was surprised to note that he was no longer as solitary as he thought he’d been.

Amidst the bustling energy of the League of Nine Tourney, the arrival of students from all eight distinct schools had turned the Quidditch pitch into a vibrant tapestry of colors and cultures. Harry found himself amidst this whirlwind, a swirl of nerves and excitement clashing within him. As he soared through the air in an attempt to make some distance between him and the newcomers, he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the magnitude of it all.

I suppose with so many new students far from home, they’d latch onto the most familiar thing, and Quidditch is a universal thing in the Wizarding World, I think. Harry thought to himself. That’s what I would do, anyway.

Hovering in midair, he let himself momentarily rest, his broom steady beneath him. The cool breeze tousled his hair, carrying with it the anticipation and fervor that lingered on the grounds.

The field below was a mosaic of movement and billowing robes, each school represented by a unique crest that adorned the students' attire. Nervous laughter, chatter, and foreign accents intermingled, painting an auditory portrait of the magical world coming together.

Harry's emerald eyes swept across the scene, his gaze settling on the group of new students who had gathered at the edge of the pitch. Their eyes were fixed on him, a mix of admiration and curiosity— though it was mostly curiosity— evident in their expressions.

He suppressed the urge to wince. Come to see the famous Boy-Who-Lived, have you?

As he observed the new arrivals, Harry's mind wandered. Each face held a story, each school a history and tradition all its own. He couldn’t wait to go against them on the pitch; see what tactics each other country had in store for him.

He let himself descend a bit lower, his broom gliding smoothly through the air. The grassy expanse below was a rich carpet of green, contrasting with the vibrant robes of the students. He could hear the distant cries of creatures from the Forbidden Forest, a reminder of the untamed magic that surrounded the enchanted castle.

With a gentle sigh, Harry let his mind quiet and his thoughts drift away. He closed his eyes briefly, relishing the feeling of being weightless and free. In this suspended moment, he felt a sense of calm wash over him, a respite from the flurry of events that had unfolded since the tournament's unofficial commencement.

As he opened his eyes once more, Harry's gaze moved towards Adam, who seemed to be wholly unconcerned with the new arrivals, even as he stayed nose-deep in the same book he’d been reading for a week.

Shaking his head, Harry returned to his practice.

Refocusing on his Seeker drills, Harry ascended. The wind rushed past him, a playful dance that tugged at his clothes and ruffled his hair. His broom responded to his command— though not as precisely as he would have wanted. Still, he turned, twisted, and darted with as much control as he could manage as he chased an imaginary Golden Snitch, an alluring prize that evoked a sense of determination within him.

Harry's eyes were locked onto the space before him, his senses attuned to the faintest flutter of movement, the subtlest glint of gold. He weaved through the open sky, sharp turns causing his robes to billow dramatically. The sensation of flight was exhilarating, a symphony of muscle memory and anticipation.

Moments stretched into minutes, but his focus remained unwavering. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat resonating with the thrill of the hunt. He could feel his breath coming in measured intervals, a rhythm that mirrored the cadence of his pursuit.

A sudden change in air pressure alerted him, and Harry's instincts kicked in. He adjusted his course with a deft shift of his body, his broomstick following suit. There it was— an actual Golden Snitch, flitting just ahead.

Harry was so surprised that he stopped completely. He sent a quick gaze down to the field, seeing a grinning Oliver Wood looking up at him. The older boy gave him a nod and pointed at the Snitch, telling Harry what to do without words.

Smiling, Harry’s eyes narrowed as he gave chase. Time blurred as he sought his ever elusive prize, the world around him reduced to the rush of wind and the focus of his goal. The minutes now felt like seconds, a testament to his absolute dedication. And then, by instinct honed over countless matches and practices, his fingers closed around the small, fluttering ball. Triumph surged within him, and a victorious shout built in his chest.

With the Snitch held aloft in his hand, Harry gradually slowed his broom's speed, his euphoria mingling with the realization that his drill had come to an end. He descended gracefully, his broomstick gliding down towards the pitch's surface. The air felt different now— charged with the residue of his efforts, the echo of accomplishment.

“Not bad, Harry!” Wood said as Harry landed soundlessly on the grass. “Not bad at all.”

“Thanks.” Harry muttered and dismounted his broom, handing the Snitch back to Wood. “I hadn’t expected the sudden test, but that was pretty fun.”

“Good practice, I’d say.” Wood said, nodding. “I hadn’t counted on you being here, though. Care for some more drills?”

But Harry shook his head, wiping the sweat off of his brow. “I’ve been at it for quite some time; if I keep going, I’ll miss the chance to do my homework. I don’t think Professor McGonagall would appreciate that.”

Wood nodded, though he didn’t look particularly happy about that. “I suppose that’s fair enough, Potter.”

“Any word on who got on the team?” Harry asked. “If you’re here to practice…”

“No.” Oliver said. “I’ve got no idea, still. Griffiths is keeping everything quiet, for now. I think we’re still being tested, even right now.”

“What do you mean?”

“She might be seeing if we’re really serious about Quidditch.” Wood said, nodding to himself. “Rooting out those who are too casual. We did our best during the tryouts, yes, but would we practice afterwards when there’s no need to? I think she might be still watching us.”

Harry frowned. The logic behind Oliver’s words made some sense, but it all seemed a mite too ridiculous for him. And yet… There’s the possibility that he’s right.

“Maybe you’re right.” Harry allowed with a shrug. “Either way, it doesn’t matter, I suppose.”

“True. You’re practicing either way.” Wood said, patting the boy on the shoulder before giving a nod. “With any luck, we’ll all be on the same team and crush the other schools.”

Harry grinned, nodding as well. Saying his goodbyes, he turned away from Wood and headed over to where his adopted brother was.

Adam was still seated nearby on the grass, engrossed in the same book he’d been reading for ages. Harry approached him, his footsteps a soft whisper against the earth.

"Hey, Adam." Harry said, his voice sounding a little tired. "Any luck with your book?”

Without even looking up from his book, Adam reached to his side before raising his hand, holding up a gourd of water for the boy.

“Thanks.” Harry said and took a deep gulp of the water, relishing in the sensation of feeling refreshed and energized once more. He let out a sigh of appreciation before sitting by him. “I needed that.”

“I figured.” Adam said, eyes flitting toward Harry for a moment before they turned back towards his target of obsession. “And, no. Absolutely no damn luck.”

Oh, he’s starting to swear. Harry thought, wincing a little as he adjusted his position. He’s definitely frustrated.

Frustration was an understatement, Harry realized after a few moments. Adam's annoyance seemed to practically radiate from him the longer he sat beside him. Adam slammed the book shut, his irritation clear in the sharp motion and the scowl etched across his face.

"Rough studying session, huh?"

Adam snorted, rolling his eyes dramatically.

"You could say that. Turns out that my brain has a natural aversion to understanding whatever this nonsense is." He waved the book in front of him as if it were a weapon of mass confusion.

Harry managed a small smile, his empathy pushing past Adam's prickly exterior. "Hey, we've all been there— you’ve seen us. Sometimes these things just take time."

Adam shot him a skeptical look, not quite convinced. "Sure, time. And maybe a miracle. Or an author who actually knows how to explain things in a way that makes sense."

“Maybe one of the Professors?” Harry suggested.

Adam opened his mouth to say something acerbic, but then he stopped to consider the boy’s words. Finally, he nodded, much of the bite gone from his mismatched eyes. “Might have to, at this point.”

Switching topics, Harry tried to steer the conversation toward something more positive. "Well, at least you'll have fun in the Dueling Championship. No?"

Adam's lips twisted into a crooked smile, his sarcasm undeterred. "Oh, lucky me."

Harry chuckled despite himself. “You can be so whiny, sometimes, Adam.”

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“True enough.” Adam said before looking around. “Lots of students from other schools watching the practices, though."

“They’re just getting situated, I think.”

Adam raised an eyebrow, his tone incredulous. "And you don't think some are just there to scout out their competition?"

“That’s exactly what Wood just said.” Harry sighed, his shoulders slumping a bit. "Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if that's part of it. But I try not to think about it too much. It's a distraction I don't need right now."

Adam's smirk was almost smug. "Ah, so you're not flattered by the idea of being the famous Boy-Who-Lived under the watchful eyes of the international Quidditch community?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, I've had my fill of being watched last year. And… This is about Quidditch, not some special-chosen-one nonsense."

Adam stopped for a moment, as if surprised by something Harry had said. His demeanor softened, his teasing giving way to a more genuine expression. "Yeah, fair enough. But still, you've got to admit, it's a bit of a wild ride."

Harry wasn’t sure what changed his friend’s mood, but he grinned nonetheless. "Wild is one way to put it. But you know what they say— no rest for the Seeker, even when there's a horde of onlookers."

After the two boys shared a laugh, a subtle shift in the atmosphere caught Adam's attention. His gaze shifted slightly, noticing something in the distance.

Harry’s gaze followed Adam’s, widening as they fell on a familiar face. He frowned as he realized something. Maybe not as familiar as I remember?

It was Fleur Delacour, but she’d somehow changed in the month since they’d last seen her. He didn’t know how to explain it, but it was as though she’d aged a few years, quite nearly into adulthood in the span of a few weeks.

Even stranger than that was the faint, almost enchanting aura that seemed to surround her. His eyes narrowed slightly, his curiosity mixing with a trace of suspicion. Harry watched as it swirled around a few of the onlooking men, making them gape and focus on her, their eyes following her every move.

“What…” Harry muttered to himself, not understanding just what it was he was seeing.

“So, you see it too.” Adam’s words jarred the boy, and Harry swiftly turned his attention back to his friend. “I figured your sight had changed, but I didn’t imagine you could see that.”

“You…” Harry said, completely forgetting about Fleur for the moment. “More secrets?”

But Adam shook his head. “This is different— most people will call you crazy for ‘seeing magic’. Like your other power you haven’t talked about.”

Harry wanted to say something, his cheeks flushing with mild embarrassment at being called out by his adopted brother, but he couldn’t.

“You’re right.” Harry said. “As usual.”

“Don’t—” Harry said even as Adam grinned. “Don’t even think about saying anything.”

Adam raised his hands in surrender. “The thought is stillborn, I assure you.”

“The things you say, Adam…” Harry shook his head in incredulousness for a moment before he fixed his green gaze on Adam’s. “But we will talk about this. We shouldn’t keep secrets from each other.”

“...” Adam didn’t say anything for a moment, and Harry felt as if his entire being was being judged at that moment. Then, he nodded.

“All right.” Adam said. “We will talk, but some things… I may not tell you. As long as you can accept that, we’re good.”

Harry nodded. It was far more than he thought he’d get. At least now, he might have some answers on what exactly he was seeing.

"Something's off about Fleur." Harry murmured to Adam, focusing his attention back on the girl in question. "Did you notice that strange aura around her? And those guys— seems like they're completely bewitched."

Adam's eyes flicked back to Fleur as well, though he didn’t seem particularly surprised. "Yeah, it’s not that which bothers me; I noticed bits of it when we saw her last, but now it’s just going on full blast— I think her Veela side has matured."

“Veela?” Harry mouthed in confusion.

“Think…” Adam said, trying to find a quick definition. “They’re like sirens, they can enchant men with their allure. That’s an oversimplification, but it’s close enough.”

Harry nodded, accepting the explanation for now. As Fleur drew closer, the changes in her were unmistakable. She appeared significantly different from the Fleur they had known just a month ago. More than her physical change, her demeanor exuded a newfound confidence, her posture more commanding, her gaze holding a fierce intensity he had only seen when she’d taken her revenge on the scumbag who had assaulted her.

Harry's eyes remained fixed on her for a few more seconds, his instincts on high alert. She's changed. It's not just her appearance.

Her icy blue eyes fixed on Harry and Adam, and her lips curved into a polite smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Harry, Adam." She greeted, her voice carrying a tone that was as frosty as her smile. "I trust you're both well."

Harry and Adam exchanged a brief glance, sensing the tension underlying her seemingly courteous words. Harry's fists tightened imperceptibly as he prepared himself for whatever conversation lay ahead.

And then he saw it; her aura reached out like an invisible hand, making its way to him. Harry felt it brush against his very being and felt his own mind snarl out in response, meeting her allure head-on with a steadfast rejection.

The look in Fleur's eyes shifted subtly as she sensed his rejection, her icy demeanor turning to surprise.

“We’re fine.” Adam said, his tone more hostile than Harry had expected it to be. “Yourself? Feeling better after that little… situation we dealt with?”

Fleur's smile faltered for a moment, her composure wavering as Adam's tone hit a nerve. She recovered quickly, her expression regaining its carefully maintained politeness.

"I am much better." She replied, her voice carrying a hint of defensiveness. "I do appreciate your assistance."

Harry only shook his head, pushing past his wariness.

"We did what anyone would do." He said simply, his words a reminder that their actions were driven by a sense of duty and morals, not a desire for recognition.

Fleur's gaze flickered between the two, her poise somewhat disrupted by the abrupt nature of the conversation. It was clear that the dynamics between them had shifted, that the harmony of their previous interactions had been replaced by an unspoken tension.

"I won't keep you." She said, her tone regaining its frosty composure. "Enjoy your practice, gentlemen.”

With a polite nod, she turned to depart. Before Fleur could leave, however, the atmosphere shifted once more as a trio of Japanese wizards— two boys and one girl— approached, their gait bold and purposeful. Reaching us, they gazed upon us as if assessing their future competition.

"Good day." The first one said, his tone filled with an undeniable aura of confidence. "I am known as Takeshi, and these are my friends, Hiroshi and Mai. We've heard much about you, Harry Potter and Adam Clarke."

Harry and Adam rose to their feet, acknowledging the newcomers with a nod.

"Nice to meet you." Harry said, extending his hand for a firm handshake. "I suppose there is no need for introductions, then."

Adam followed suit, though he gave them a bow. “Pleased to meet you.”

The trio returned Adam’s bow before turning their gaze towards Fleur, whose aura had begun to circle around them.

“And… you are?” Takeshi said, swallowing in a sudden case of nervousness.

The girl, Mai, gave Takeshi a strange look, as if she’d never seen him act that way before.

“I am Fleur Delacour.” She said, shaking her head as she took a few steps back.

Takeshi seemed to resist the urge to follow her, quickly getting a hold of himself when Mai elbowed his side.

He shook his head for a moment before sweeping his gaze across the group, a competitive glint entering his eyes. "Excuse me. I seem to have gotten distracted. I came here to ask if you are participating in the tournament.”

“I am.” Adam said, nodding towards Harry. “He’ll be in the Quidditch tournament.”

“I see.” Takeshi said, sharing a glance with his two friends. “I had hoped to see both of your prowess in the ring…”

Adam only shrugged and smiled in response, while Harry said nothing.

Fleur, who had been watching the entire time, finally jumped in, keeping her voice cool and composed. "I will also be participating in the dueling tournament."

The second boy, Hiroshi, smiled in response, though he said nothing. He seemed to be completely under Fleur’s thrall.

Mai, the third member of the group, leaned in with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, though Harry could almost sense the annoyance lurking beneath the surface.

"You know." She said in a false, playful tone. "Even if you aren’t participating in the tournament, how about a quick friendly duel, Potter-san?"

Harry's brows lifted in mild surprise, his instinctual caution tempered by a sense of intrigue. However, before he could respond, Adam interjected with a shake of his head.

“A duel?” Harry said. “Erm—”

"As tempting as that sounds." Adam cut in, his tone marked by a hint of wry amusement, though he did not smile. "There’s a couple of problems with that. One: as you can tell, Harry has just finished Quidditch practice, and so he’s already tired."

“Two.” Adam held up two fingers, forestalling whatever it was Takeshi was about to say. “It is against school rules to engage in frivolous dueling— at least without approval from the staff.”

“I see…” Takeshi's grin didn't fade, but his shoulders relaxed in acceptance. "Very well. Rules are rules, after all. We'll save it for the tournament, then."

Adam's response carried a hint of his usual sardonic humor, mixed with a healthy dose of competitive spirit.

"Oh, don't you worry.” he quipped, his lips curling into a confident smirk. "I'll make sure to give you a good dusting off when the time comes."

Takeshi's eyes sparkled with a mixture of amusement and challenge, his own smirk matching Adam's in intensity. "I look forward to seeing you try."

With that, Takeshi exchanged a knowing glance with Hiroshi and Mai, and they nodded in unison. Without saying another word, the trio of Japanese wizards turned and headed back in the direction from which they came, leaving Fleur, Harry, and Adam standing together once more.

Fleur's gaze followed their departure, a thoughtful expression crossing her features. Her voice was tinged with a hint of intrigue. "They seem quite confident."

“Overconfident is more like it.” Adam said, shaking his head.

“You’re saying that?” Harry said, eyebrows raised. “Did you hear yourself ten seconds ago?”

“Point.” Adam allowed, though he smiled. “But you’ve seen me in action, haven’t you?”

“I don’t know…” Harry said, noticing Fleur’s stiffening posture. “He seemed pretty sure of his chances against you, Adam.”

Adam shook his head, his sarcasm making a reappearance. "I’m sure they’re going to give me a really good fight."

“Harry is right.” Fleur said, pinning Adam with a look. “You are being arrogant.”

Adam gave her a flat look. “I’ve been called that before. How about this, then? Let’s have a duel.”

“Didn’t you just say that duels are against the rules?” Harry said, a little alarmed by Adam’s sudden shift.

“I did.” Adam confirmed, grinning. “I just wanted to get rid of them— who the hell introduces themselves to someone and then immediately demands a duel?”

“Still…” Harry said, not sure about all this. “That’s sort of what you’re doing right now?”

“What?” Adam looked taken aback for a moment before shaking his head in denial. “This is completely different!”

“Is it?”

“Yes. The difference is that we know each other.” Adam said, though he threw Fleur a side-eye. “Maybe not for very long, but we do.”

“...” Fleur stared at Adam for a moment, and it was as though a war raged within the young lady’s mind.

“Adam gets a little out of hand, sometimes.” Harry offered, patting his adopted brother on the shoulder and ignoring the boy’s rumble of annoyance. “Please forgive him.”

Fleur smiled a little at that, her demeanor softening. “I suppose if you are asking so kindly, I have no choice, ‘Arry.”

“Adam.” She turned her gaze to the boy beside him. “I also apologize for calling you arrogant. These past few weeks have been… trying for me.”

The boy frowned, but nodded, giving her a strained smile. “Your apology is accepted. I know you’ve been through a lot and I’m probably not helping.”

But Fleur only shook her head at this, her face a mixture of exasperation, gratitude and annoyance. “... I will see you later.”

The two boys watched her go.

“Adam…”

“I don’t get it!” Adam said. “I didn’t say anything wrong?”

“I swear, for how smart you are, sometimes you are just so bloody stupid.”

“...How!?”

Harry resisted the urge to pull at his hair.