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They had danced for what felt like hours until they took a break. They exited the dancefloor sweaty, panting, and exhausted, but Fleur had never felt this happy in a long time.
“I'll get us something to drink, go ahead and find us seats.“, Fleur's companion said. Percy Weasley was already flushed from the dance, but his skin turned an even more intense shade of red when she kissed his cheek.
“I vill see you in a minute, Percy.“
Not much time passed after their parting until Fleur's uncle Gabriel sought her out. Fleur had expected him to approach her, but she had been sure that he would still be angry at her for entering the tournament. Instead of anger, he looked at her with an expression he usually reserved for praising her when she finished a mission successfully.
“Hello my dear Fleur”, he greeted her in French, ”I see you are already making up for your outburst of teenage rebellion.”
Fleur arched an eyebrow. “I have no idea what you're talking about. Besides, what happened to me ‘exposing the family' and ‘endangering our secrets'?”
Gabriel Delacour's face hardened. “That's still a threat, Fleur. My warnings from our conversation after the choosing of champions still apply.”
He then looked at the crowd near the bar. Fleur followed his gaze, and found Percy Weasley.
“Niece, I congratulate you on your choice of date.”
“What do you mean, Uncle? What's so special about Percy? He's a ministry assistant.” Dread began to form in Fleur's stomach. Her uncle had a mission for her, she was sure of it. And it involved Percy, who had become very dear to her.
Gabriel’s face assumed the expression it always had when he taught her something. “For once, he's from a noble family. The Weasleys might not currently sit the Wizengamot, but they have a dormant seat that could be activated with a bit of money. And for a few years now, the Weasleys have been experiencing a streak of luck after centuries of misfortune. They are also associated with the voting block headed by Harry Black.”
Fleur perked up at the mention of Blaise's friend.
Her uncle continued: “Your companion Percival Weasley graduated with high grades last spring and did an internship at the Department for International Cooperation in the summer. He went on to become the assistant and protege of Bartemius Crouch. I am disappointed that you didn't do your research, niece.”
Gabriel Delacour now directed his gaze directly at Fleur. “Percival Weasley will very likely rise high in the British ministry, and you are doing well to get close to him before that happens.”
Fleur narrowed her eyes. This was so typical. “I don't want to make a habit of researching everything there is to know about people in my private life. And I will not spy on Percy.”
Gabriel sharpened his gaze. “You will do your duty to your country, our family, and the Cause. You will find the material you need in your room. Use it at the next opportunity”
Her defiance must have shown on her face, because his next words were as harsh as the dressing down she received after she was chosen as a champion.
“Do not test me on this, Fleur. You are out of line already, do not go further.”
A feeling of dread arose in Fleur. Until now, her missions had never intersected with her private life. The people she had planted listening devices on had always been strangers to her. But now, her uncle (her country, her family, the Cause) was asking her to betray the wizard she might just be falling in love with, to lie to him every moment they spend together. Fleur knew that it would not end there. Every person she befriended could become her next target. She might even be required to get close to people not her choosing. She would continue being an asset to her family and those her family served. Asset first, daughter later. Always another mission.
Her musings were interrupted by a certain redhead: “My apologies, if I had known that we would have company, I would have brought another drink.” Percy had reappeared during their starring match, holding two drinks.
“Not necessary, I vas about to leave you two youngsters alone”, her uncle said in (fake) slightly accented English.
“Although I am pleased to make your acquaintance Mr...?”
“Weasley. Percival Weasley.” The Brit passed one of the drinks to Fleur so he could shake the older wizard’s outstretched hand.
“Well met, Mr Weasley. I am Fleur's uncle, Gabriel Delacour, with the French ministry.”
“Oh, I'm with the British ministry, so we might work with each other in the future!”
The genuine excitement in Percy's words fueled the growing defiance in Fleur. She did not want to hurt Percy. He did not deserve to be betrayed like that.
“I vill leave you young people alone then.”
Fleur's uncle walked away from them, chatting up some other ministry officials.
Percy turned towards her. “Did he really just want to introduce himself to me or was there something else?”
“Oh Percy”, she thought, “sharp, attentive Percy”
“Yes,” she said, “He came to remind me of my duty to our family.”
“You're a Triwizard Champion, how is that neglectful of your duties?”, Percy looked puzzled, then he flushed. “Oh, is this about us?”
“It is, but not in the way you are thinking right now”, Fleur thought.
“No.”, the witch said, “they are not against me dating you. You ‘ave to understand that my family has survived times of unrest by appearing mediocre, by not being noticed. And now I draw attention as the Triwizard Champion. They are mad that I choose to defy our family ways.” It was the truth, although not nearly all of it.
“Well, I think it’s good that you follow your own path.” Percy said, taking her hand in his. “You’re too brilliant to hide away your potential.” He drew her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of her hand.
Fleur had to smile at that. “Let’s forget about my family drama for tonight and dance.”
And so they did, until deep into the night. Later, after they had parted, Fleur lay awake in her room in the carriage. The girls who shared the room with her were fast asleep, exhausted from the dance. Fleur was also exhausted, but her thoughts wouldn’t let her sleep. She held the listening device in her hands. It would be easy to plant it on Percy, yet hard at the same time. She had a choice to make, she knew that. The earlier she made that choice, the more time she had to plan.
Sleep didn’t find her until dawn.