The Real Harry Potter

"Arry!" Harry heard a voice cry a short few moments after he left the hospital wing. Harry turned just in time to catch the small blonde that jumped up and wrapped her arms and legs around him. Harry looked down and found Gabrielle Delacour, Fleur's younger sister staring at him with a grin. "Hello." She said, still grinning.

"Hello?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Je suis content que tu sois là. J'ai voulu te parler, tu es le petit ami de ma soeur ? Tu peux être à moi à la place ? Je suis plus mignon que Fleur." Gabrielle shot out in a single breath.

"Je ne suis pas ton petit ami soeur, et désolé de ne pas pouvoir être à toi, tu es bien trop mignonne pour moi." Harry replied with a grin, at the end of his response Gabrielle ended up blushing a little.

"Gabrielle!" A tired voice said, Harry and Gabrielle turned to see Fleur standing with her parents. Her mother, Appolline Delacour, was a beautiful blonde and obviously who Fleur got her hair from, she was dressed in a stunning white dress with a blue jacket while her husband Jean Delacour was a black haired man dressed in a blue suit.

"I did not know you spoke French Mr Potter." Appolline commented as she gently pulled a pouting Gabrielle off of Harry.

"Magic is a wonderful thing." Harry shrugged. Rowena Ravenclaw, obsessed with knowledge as she was, was not about to be limited by a language barrier and had invented a spell to understand any language, and by luck the chamber also had spells that Salazar Slytherin recorded from the other founders.

Hufflepuff had some surprisingly violent ones. Harry had in fact used the spell on Dobby first to teach him French, now Dobby could praise him in two languages. Harry tried to use it to teach Dobby parsletounge but that was apparently the one language that it could not teach.

Harry theorised that might have been because there were certain noises in parsletounge that required a certain magic to properly say, upon reading more Harry realised that Salazar Slytherin had the same thoughts.

"Oh?" Jean Delacour raised an eyebrow. "I am guessing that is the reason why Fleur is suddenly fluent in English." He said, his English much like his wife was brilliant yet he still maintained a French accent.

"I said I had learnt English, I never said how." Fleur shrugged.

"Of course, your mother and I spend precious hours of our life studying and you just happen to know someone who knows how to do it with magic." Jean said dramtically.

"You poor thing." Fleur played along and patted him on the arm. "So Arry, I was..."

"I thought the boys name was Harry." Appoline comented. "You are forgetting the 'H' dear."

"I am not," Fleur sniffed at the idea of her forgetting anything. "I just like saying Arry. Anyway, Arry," Fleur said as she turned to him, making sure to emphasise the name. "I was wondering if I could speak to you later in private."

"Sure." Harry nodded.

"How are you young man?" Jean asked.

"Fine sir, I just got out of the hospital wing."

"You are not injured are you?" Appolline asked in a concerned voice.

"No, all I had was a cut on my arm but the reason I was in the hospital wing for so long is because the nurse is overdramatic and because the headmaster and minister wanted to talk to me."

"About what happened at the end of the task? Truly horrible buisness." Jean said, shaking his head.

"One of the more tamer things in my life really," Harry said as he spotted someone past the shoulders of the Delacours. "I would love to talk but I have to see someone quickly."

"We understand," Jean nodded. "thank you for everything, not just getting us a lawyer and helping my daughter, but also being a good friend."

"Your welcome, see ya later Fleur, bye Gabrielle." Harry gave a short wave at the adorable girl who waved back. Harry walked past them and rushed towards the person who he wanted to see. "Minister Fudge." Harry called, causing the man to stop walking and turn around. "Are you alright sir?"

"I have been better." Fudge sighed. "I suppose the same can be said about you. Has Albus sent you?" Fudge asked suspiciously.

"Not really sir," Harry shook his head. "matter of fact Dumbledore did not seem very happy with me when you left."

"Oh?" Fudge asked with an interested voice. "Do tell Mr Potter."

"Well right after you left he basically made it clear that he was not happy about me not agreeing with him on his theory about V...you-know-who coming back." Harry said, managing to stop himself from saying Voldemort, if for no other reason than to just keep the conversation going without screaming.

"Did he?"

"Yes, he mentioned how between both of our reputations we could have been able to convince you." Harry said, Fudge's face turned red but Harry continued speaking. "I told him that I disagreed with that."

"I am glad that you did Mr Potter," Fudge said, looking very tired. "he is not back!" Fudge hissed.

"I never said he was." Harry said raising his hands in a surrender, Fudge quickly realised that he may have made Harry uncomfortable.

"Oh I am very sorry Harry," Fudge said in an apologetic voice matched by the look on his face. "I am just very stressed today, I dare say I won't have to be explaining how stress can affect oneself to you of all people."

"Nah, I too am very stressed sir." Harry said with a small shake of his head. "Anyway, when Dumbledore asked me why I thought I would not be able to convince you I told him it was because there was no way that I could convince you that such a dark and evil wizard came back from the dead when I could not convince him that I should not be living with my muggle relatives."

"Muggle relatives?" Fudge blinked, remembering how Harry had blown up his muggle aunt with accidental magic.

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