A/N: Thank you, as always, to my beta 'chem prof' and all the work he puts into making this far more readable than it otherwise would be.
Chapter 9: Uncertainty
When morning came, Fleur was again the first to awaken. This time, however, she was immediately aware of her bed mate and his position.
Having fallen asleep separate, her hand was now around the young man's shoulder, his head on her shoulder. His left arm was across her stomach. He was breathing deeply, complete with a small smile. Fleur couldn't resist smiling at the peaceful look on his face.
She closed her eyes again, wishing that Bill would sometimes hold her like this. Her fiancée was an aggressive lover, one who preferred the slightly-to-very rough to the tender and slow. She, at times, thoroughly enjoyed the experience, the Veela inside of her glorifying in the delicious dirtiness of the act. But, sometimes, she longed for the opposite, something Bill never satisfied. Sometimes she desired to hold or to be held like Harry was now.
Merde, I'm comparing them…
What concerned her the most, however, was how easily and vividly the thoughts of Harry came.
Harry shuffled in his sleep, his hand gently brushing Fleur's as he moved. A soft sigh escaped her lips. The sensations here were so different than she usually experienced.
Her thoughts drifted again, this time to the last time she and her fiancé spent the night together. It had been more than a fortnight ago in Bill's apartment in London. The couple had gone out to dinner after work on a Friday and then walked, chatting, around the city for an hour before returning to his apartment.
As soon as she was in the door, Bill had pulled her into a fierce kiss. Fleur responded after a moment's surprise at the sudden act. Their outer clothes were rapidly discarded, and Bill directed her to his bed.
After admiring her for a moment, Bill then descended upon her bra covered breasts and kneaded them. Fleur had gasped in pleasure and pain; however, this time, it was more pain than pleasure.
The first time Fleur had gotten this far with Bill, she had felt almost entirely pleasure from his actions. Perhaps it had been because it was her first time that far, or perhaps it had been because she had liked it back then. Now, each time seemed to give her less and less pleasure. Had it been the thrill that turned her on? If it was, then she knew she was losing that thrill.
Fleur loved Bill. There was no doubt in her mind about that. Sometimes she just wished he was gentler.
Next, Bill had kissed her roughly, while reaching between the legs of the blonde part-Veela. Pushing the underwear to the side, he had thrust two fingers deep inside of the woman, causing her to moan and gasp into Bill's mouth.
Again, she had once felt only pleasure in that manner. Now things had changed.
She still was able to find her release, for Bill did not stop until she had at least once. He was dedicated, albeit rough.
Even with the pain she had received in her memory, present Fleur was getting turned on. All other thoughts aside, she was still very attracted to the man.
A sudden movement around her brought her back to Earth. Here she was thinking about her fiancé and the last time they had been together while in the arms of a younger male, even though it was completely platonic. There was something very wrong with that image.
Fleur sighed, her thoughts now drifting to Harry.
Was it completely platonic? They were certainly getting cosy together the past two nights, pain or no pain. She was also attracted to him, no doubt. She'd nearly worn what she normally wore to bed, a far shorter shirt which left her underwear exposed. The only reason she'd held back was because Harry would certainly have taken it the wrong way, let alone her own mind.
Then there was how she felt when she lay here like this. Two nights prior, she had felt as if there were no expectations to be met by sleeping in the same bed as Harry. That thought in itself was worrying. Did she feel pressured by Bill? They did, almost every time they were in a bedroom together, end up naked.
Her greatest fear about Bill was that he would succumb to the allure and only want her for her body. Could that already be happening? If Bill would only hold her the way she was holding Harry sometimes... to be safe, secure.
For the second time the same morning, Fleur started when she realized the trail her thoughts were leading her.
When she saw Bill…
Wait, isn't it Monday? Merde!
"Harry,"
No response. He was still soundly asleep.
Fleur sighed, but couldn't remain annoyed for long. He looked so peaceful. However, she would disturb him if he did not wake soon.
Hopefully the Goblins will accept this as one of my vacation days.
Fleur closed her eyes and tried to relax again. The sounds of her and Harry's breathing filled her ears and soon she felt drowsy again. It took only minutes for Fleur to drift off into a doze.
-x-x-x-x-x-
Sometime later, Harry woke.
The far wall of Fleur's bedroom came into blurry view. He could barely make out some of his belongings on a chair. It took him several more seconds to notice that he was not alone, again. In fact, he was lying partially on top of Fleur.
He sat up quickly and felt his spin. He was still tired; however he could feel no pain.
Rustling behind him informed him Fleur noticed he'd moved.
"Morning," he whispered."
"Morning," she whispered back. "How are you feeling zis morning?"
Harry considered the question. "Better."
"Zat's great!" said Fleur, genuinely pleased.
Harry turned to look at Fleur. She looked beautiful. There was no other word to describe her. Her hair was perfect – clearly bed hair was not an issue for Veela – and her smile brightened her face. He resisted the urge to blush at her and looked away.
"We ended up sleeping closely again," said Harry, studiously not looking at her. He felt Fleur sit up.
"Oui. Do you mind?"
Harry thought for a moment. "In all honesty..."
"Yes?" Fleur pressed when Harry trailed off.
He faced Fleur for a moment, saw the honest acceptance on her face, and looked away. "These last two mornings are my favourites."
Fleur shifted forward and made Harry face her. He matched her gaze briefly before looking away, a slight colour on his cheeks. He couldn't believe he'd admitted that.
"Zese two are pretty 'igh up zere on mine too," replied Fleur. Her eyes quickly widened and then she quickly looked away realizing what she had just admitted to. Harry turned back to face Fleur fully, shuffling on the bed.
Harry was confused. Wasn't she with Bill? How was this happening? He remembered what Fleur had said two nights ago.
I trust you. Zat is why I know I can sleep in ze same bed as you and know I'm safe. Ze same goes for my…attire.
The entire situation seemed surreal. A beautiful woman was paying attention to him in such a manner that is generally reserved for those in a relationship. And for her to admit that these last two mornings were among her favourites really spoke volumes. Harry just didn't know exactly what that meant.
Wasn't she engaged? Would an engaged woman normally allow someone besides her fiancé to touch her, clothes or no clothes?
Very suddenly, Harry found Seamus to not be full of crap. Women were complex.
Either that or he just had clue whatsoever. And after a minute's thought, he attributed the situation to a bit of both. He really, truly had no clue. If anything, he was still a child when it came to women.
"What are we going to do today?" asked Harry into the silence that developed.
Fleur faced him again and smiled. "We can get you some better clothes like I said we would. But now zat you are well, we can do eet now rather zan tomorrow. Perhaps I could show you around my country, too, oui? I shall show you the wonders of my homeland, and prove zat France is superior."
Harry couldn't resist smiling back. For a little longer, they shared a conversation which grew increasingly easy to maintain. There was serenity in this room, away from the reality outside of it. Even if Fleur was engaged, that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy her company, right?
Soon, however, the need to move exceeded their desire to sit and talk. Fleur gave Harry a tight hug that garnered and involuntary reaction. This time, Harry attempted a warm shower and found his problem to disappear at large the same rate.
Really, whoever came up with the idea that cold showers helped should be castrated…
Harry then wondered if it was a vengeful female who had come up with the idea…
Fleur, after reminiscing of her moments with Bill, used her time in the shower to have a private moment. Her imagination took over her memories, switching from her relations to Bill, to imagining scenarios with Harry. She left the shower feeling guilty and confused after she found her release.
Henri had already departed for work by the time Harry and Fleur dragged themselves through their showers and got dressed. After a quick breakfast and some time to sort herself out, Fleur pushed her troubles aside and eagerly dragged Harry throughout a number of favourite shopping stores in Paris. Despite her protests, Harry had limited her to one city, knowing that the alternative meant he would be stuck shopping all day today and the next day, too. He felt he'd won that debate.
Apparition was still enormously uncomfortable for Harry, but he was growing used to it. He worried over his exam the next day, which had been confirmed earlier by an owl from Henri.
By the end of the day, he had purchased an array of formal, semi-formal and casual clothes. Despite what he'd been led to believe, the experience hadn't been entirely tortuous. Fleur had been open to his suggestions and not insisted upon anything he did not like. The most embarrassing moments, however, came when Fleur directed Harry to the underwear section and offered suggestions and the aftermath outside. The clerk who assisted them in that particular store failed to hide her amusement at the scene of the beautiful Veela picking out styles and putting them against Harry's groin to see what they looked like.
But the worst one was after they had left.
"Now zat I've seen your underwear, 'Arry, perhaps I should level ze field and show you mine?"
Harry had stared. He honestly couldn't tell if the woman had been joking or not. Then, Fleur had laughed at his expression, and Harry had refused to speak to her for the next fifteen minutes.
Muggle Paris was incredible. Harry had been severely limited in his knowledge of the world, even such monuments and sites as the Eiffel Tower. Fleur was a fun tour guide, eagerly explaining the history and significance of the various sites in Paris. Harry's only regret was that the day ended so soon.
It was late-afternoon when the pair returned to the Delacour home. Harry dropped off his acquisitions in Fleur's bedroom, and after a quick meal, the pair went out again to check out a few sights of France, while Fleur simultaneously explained Harry Apparition to the best of her abilities.
Harry could scarcely recall a better day.
-x-x-x-x-x-
Dinner was a pleasant affair. Gabrielle was largely the centre of focus throughout the meal as she chattered on to Harry about anything and everything. Fleur had been forced to translate most of what had been said between the two, which meant for a very stop-start conversation, but Harry hadn't minded too much.
Afterwards, Henri and Anastasia and Harry and Fleur went their separate ways. Fleur and Harry went for a walk in the garden again, this time much further from the manor.
"I'm worried," admitted Fleur after a silence had fallen between the two. Harry looked at the older woman and watched as she brushed a few strands of hair from her face.
"Everyone's always worried, Fleur," replied Harry. He stopped under a huge oak tree, and faced her. "It's kind of in our nature."
Fleur sent him a sharp look at the unhelpful response. Harry, strangely, knew exactly the look he was being given. It was … odd.
"What are you worried about?" he asked. Fleur sighed, sat and relaxed back into the tree, winced as a piece of bark poked her in the back, and leaned forward again.
"More zings zan I'd care to," she replied. This time Harry was the one with the sharp look on his face. He sat down next to her they both stared at out at the beautiful countryside. The manor was a mile or two away now. The garden was illuminated to great effect by the fairies that inhabited it.
"I 'ave … I'm 'aving thoughts I can't control, about zings I shouldn't," elaborated Fleur.
Harry didn't really know what to say. He'd had his own thoughts lately about topics he shouldn't, but, "Who says you shouldn't?" he asked. "Thoughts are thoughts. Everyone has thoughts that others won't approve of. I'm a teenage male, trust me on this." Fleur couldn't help but let out a small laugh at that. Harry smiled at the sound. It felt good to make people laugh.
"Like I said, thoughts are thoughts," Harry went on. "When you act on them, on things you shouldn't, that's when you should be worried." He paused a moment. "You know, a little more information would help me help you."
Fleur shook her head as she said, "It's okay, 'Arry. I'll sort zis out somehow."
"If you say so," he said, shrugging. "From experience, people often make the wrong choice. Do whatever you feel is right for you."
He opened his eyes and looked at Fleur directly. "I want to live my own way. I can't at the moment, for rather obvious reasons, but once this war is over, I want to try and find my own way in life. Other people telling me what to do, making my choices, decisions … it isn't right to disallow someone to make their own choices and make their own mistakes. It's how we learn isn't it, by making our own mistakes?"
"I guess what I'm trying to say, and remember this is me you're asking advice from, so don't expect miracles, is that you should do what feel rights for you and not what anyone else says. Taking another's advice is important, but making the final choice is your job and your job alone."
Harry paused a second time, and rethought about what he had said. "I think I went a little off topic…"
"Zat's okay, I zink I got a bit of an answer," Fleur said gratefully. She knocked the piece of bark aside and leaned back into the tree, more comfortably this time. Harry closed his eyes again and relaxed back into his part of the tree. They were close enough so their shoulders touched.
It was awhile before they moved.
-x-x-x-x-x-
Unfortunately, reality began to encroach on Harry's thoughts as the night wore on. This would be his final night here, and he was beginning to dread returning to Hogwarts. While he had friends there, people he cared about, he also had the prophecy, the war, even whatever Malfoy was up to and the challenge in teaching and learning to trust the new DA members to contend with. Here, things were peaceful, if not somewhat complicated.
It remained unspoken that Harry needn't sleep in the same bed with Fleur anymore. Harry tried his best to ignore it, but he was becoming deeply troubled by his own and Fleur's actions. He enjoyed the experience, he could not deny. However, he had to wonder what Fleur was thinking.
Nevertheless, once he was dressed in a pair of boxers and a t-shirt (his new pyjamas), which Fleur had picked out for him, he sat on Fleur's bed, faced away, keeping his eyes closed while Fleur changed. He could hear the rustle of clothing and his imagination leaped on the opportunity. From the sounds, he could tell exactly which piece of clothing had been just been removed or put on. His felt his reaction start almost immediately.
"You can peek now, 'Arry." Fleur whispered when she done. Harry slowly turned around and drank in the sight of Fleur in her sleepwear again. He knew he was staring, but he couldn't help it. She was beautiful.
Fleur watched him watch her and began to wonder how he thought of her appearance. It took her several moments to realise how wrong that thought was. Bill was the one she cared about, right? He was the one whose opinion mattered. And yet, even that aside, she knew she was beautiful. She built parts of her personality upon that fact.
Then, why was she so interested in Harry's opinion?
Harry tore his eyes away from the sight, and crossed his legs to hide his reaction. He felt Fleur sit on the bed. For a minute, nothing more happened.
"It's come to an end so quickly," Harry whispered. Fleur turned her head to face Harry, taking in the sight of Harry, still with his glasses on, in front of her.
"Eet feels longer zan three nights," Fleur responded, her voice just as soft.
"For you, maybe," Harry replied, a little envious at that. These past days seemed to have passed far quicker than his days at Hogwarts.
Harry sighed. "It couldn't last. Nothing perfect ever does for me."
"Perfect?"
Harry shook his head. "Sorry. Forget I said that."
"Non, 'Arry," replied Fleur, shaking her head. She moved forward onto her knees and placed her hands on Harry's shoulders. He looked up at her. "I simply am surprised. I 'ave also enjoyed my time with you."
Harry shook his head again. "I've spent a lot of my life in some kind of pain. This," Harry looked around Fleur's room, ending with her once again. Her shirt was slightly crooked, revealing an expanse of skin around her right shoulder. He quickly looked away. "This is far better than the Dursley's or the Hospital Wing."
Fleur pursed her lips, debating on whether to broach a no doubt sensitive subject. "Your life with ze Muggle was not pleasant, was eet?"
For a long time, Harry did not say anything. He'd very rarely discussed the Dursley's with anyone. Hermione probably knew the most, and even then...
"No, it wasn't."
Fleur, uncertain of what to do, hugged Harry. Surprised, he didn't react immediately, but eventually he uncrossed his arms and wrapped them around her.
The hug lasted awhile. Harry tried to describe it, but it was indescribable. The feelings, the sensation, the emotions behind it were so foreign. He nearly thought 'loving touch' but didn't know if this was it or not. It certainly wasn't abuse, and it certainly felt more than simply friendship. Hermione had never done this in all their years of friendship.
He told her. He told her about the cupboard, about the bullying and verbal abuse.
Fleur was silent the entire time he spoke, sitting by his side, keeping in contact. She listened and resisted the urge to pity him, to express her anger at the Muggle's that were supposed to take care of him.
When he was through, she hugged him again, saying nothing. She didn't prod further, and she didn't judge him, condemn him for being a freak, or do anything except hug him.
She eventually pulled away and smiled at him, her expression warm and caring. He didn't deserve what had been done to him, and she couldn't help what to give him better memories. Her earlier hesitation and confusion were forgotten.
The news of Harry's home life did not come entire as a surprise. Her partner for the Order of the Phoenix, Hestia Jones, had mentioned Harry's home life hadn't been what she thought it was while she observed him the previous summer. The news, however, did explain why he found his experiences here so positive. He'd experienced few truly happy moments.
Fleur sat by Harry for several minutes in silence, running her hand up and down his arm while he contemplated whatever it was he was contemplating. Suddenly, he moved his own arm, and grabbed her hand, squeezing it slightly. Then, after a minute, faced her and leant towards her. She caught him, and after a bit of adjustment, he was lying on her similarly to that morning.
A whispered word plunged the room into darkness. The only source of light was from the moonlight through Fleur's still opened curtains. The pair laid in silence.
Harry began to run his hand over Fleur's stomach. He touched the skin of her midriff accidentally and tensed, halting his movement. Fleur, oddly breathing heavily, used her hand not holding Harry and placed hers atop his, moving it slowly again.
Slowly relaxing, Harry resumed the movement, alternating between skin and the material of her shirt. Fleur removed her hand and closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation, secretly wanting more of it. She cursed herself for her lack of self-control, but it felt so nice...
As if listening, Harry complied. He started nudging her shirt up and touching more and more of her midriff. Gradually, his reach and her shirt rose higher and higher, until Harry nudged the underside of her breasts. Immediately, Harry removed his hand and made to sit up. Fleur held him tightly, breathing heavily.
She didn't know what was coming over her. She knew she was engaged to Bill, she knew she cared about him a lot. She knew that this was wrong. But she felt so relaxed, so calm and peaceful and safe here with Harry. Why was she doing this?
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," stammered Harry. "I should sleep somewhere else."
"It's okay," whispered Fleur, without thinking. "I would stop you if I didn't want or like it." And she realised it were true. She did want it. A lot.
Harry gradually relaxed again, but he did not start brushing his hand over her again. He had felt her breasts, and the lack of a bra. His body had reacted strongly to the thought, and his imagination went into overdrive.
Her shirt was ridden up to the underside of her breasts... he could continue what he was doing and touch them. They would be his first, and an almost childish excitement filled him at the possibilities that presented.
But reality came crashing down. Bill. Harry cursed himself and Bill, though he knew it wasn't Bill's fault.
He removed his head from her shoulder a second time and this time Fleur let him go. He laid down with his head on her pillow, next time to hers. She turned and faced him. Their faces were close enough to feel each other's breath.
Almost unconsciously, his hand moved back to her exposed belly and resumed its movement, now reaching her back as she'd moved onto her side. Fleur closed her eyes again and relaxed into the sensation. Her own hand reached out to Harry and drew him a little closer, so that they were only centimetres apart. Her hand soon disappeared beneath his shirt. Harry breathed a little quicker.
This was insane, Fleur knew. She knew that if this kept up, they would kiss. If she were honest, she doubted at this rate she could stop at just a kiss.
Harry was a wonderful person. He was troubled, and had a lot of baggage, but it some ways, she did also. But did that excuse her from kissing a man who wasn't her fiancée, even if he wasn't perfect? Even if he didn't treat her exactly like she wanted? She should just tell him what the problem was and they could work through it together. And yet, here she was. She could feel it in her bones, the desire to kiss Harry. Her heart ached a little.
She was engaged. And yet, she'd been swayed to this point. Fleur began to question her resolve, her commitment. Was this engagement even what she wanted anymore? She loved Bill... but did she see a future with him?
Despite what she tried to make herself believe, these weren't entirely new thoughts. She'd had them since the summer, if not earlier. Her flirtation with Harry wasn't new, either.
Harry's hand rode up her back again, moving beneath her shirt, where her bra strap should have been. Fleur sighed and moved a little closer. She couldn't help herself.
Maybe Bill wasn't right for her. If she was having these doubts, then maybe... But no, this was something she needed to discuss with Bill. But Harry was here, now. The urge to kiss him was continually growing.
She could provide him many memories this night. Many wonderful memories that he deserved but had been unjustly denied time and again. Could she add to that? Deny him something wonderful. Deep down, she knew she was making excuses. However, she ignored that part of her and continued to touch him.
His shirt had ridden up and she placed her hand on his chest. He was thin, but what was there was firm. Lean.
She raised her eyes and gazed into his emerald ones. An age passed.
She's engaged, Harry kept reminding himself. But she wasn't acting like it. He didn't know if he could resist much longer.
Fleur breathed deeply, and Harry felt her breath on him. His eyes were drawn to her lips. They were perfect. He wanted them. He tried to remind himself that they weren't his, but his resistance was thwarted by his desire, his emotions.
He placed a little pressure on Fleur's back, and he felt someone his own. He leant forward ever so slightly, and she matched him. He turned his head slightly, still watching her lips. She turned, too, and they two leant forward that little more.
And they kissed.
Their lips gently brushed together. Harry felt Fleur's soft lips against his. Fleur felt Harry's slightly rougher lips against hers. Fleur closed her lips slightly, and Harry responded in kind. The kiss was light, but Harry felt it deep inside of him.
The kiss continued for some time. Harry and Fleur retreated simultaneously, opened their eyes to search the others, asking silent questions and receiving no answers. There were no sounds except their breathing.
Harry was the first to turn away. He took his hand from Fleur's back and sat up.
"I'm sorry, Fleur, I didn't mean too..." he struggled to explain himself. "I just couldn't resist anymore."
Fleur sat up beside Harry. "What did I say before, Harry?" she asked softly. He felt her hand on his shoulder again. "I said that I would stop you."
Harry turned to face her. "I don't understand. You're engaged."
Fleur felt a twinge of guilt at her actions. "I know." She drew him a little closer. He didn't resist.
"Did you want to kiss me?" she asked.
"Huh?"
"Did you want to kiss me?" she repeated. "Do you care about me in that way?" She avoided the use of the word 'love', certain he did not understand how that felt given his childhood.
"I..."
"Don't think about it, 'Arry," continued Fleur, her mouth near his ear, a hand caressing his cheek. "Answer the question."
He did. "Yes."
Fleur leant forward and kissed his cheek. Harry, eyes closed, felt goosebumps erupt on his skin.
He turned to face her, eyes examining her face. She smiled at him, belying the inner turmoil she was subduing. She wanted this now. She'd deal with the consequences later.
She got her legs beneath her and pushed Harry back down onto the bed. She leant forward, her shirt still high on her torso, revealing an expanse of skin lit by the moonlight to Harry's eye. He didn't know where to look. But he knew that he would try and remember this sight for the rest of his life.
Slowly, Fleur straddled Harry, and in process felt his strong reaction to her. Harry, embarrassed, looked away.
"It's okay, 'Arry."
She placed her hands on his chest, and lifted his shirt up. Fleur leant forward and kissed his exposed skin. Harry closed his eyes and squirmed under the unfamiliar feeling.
His hands moved on their own accord to Fleur's side. He moved them up and down her flawless skin. It felt divine. He sat up a bit, jostling Fleur in her place. She smiled at him as she sat astride. She leant forward, wrapped her arms around his neck and the two kissed again, tenderly.
This time, the kiss lasted longer, went deeper. As the kiss went on, she moved her arms down to his back again, and this time lifted his shirt up. She broke this kiss, and lifted it over his head. As soon as it was free, she tossed it into a corner of the room and resumed the kiss, this time more passionate and harder.
Harry's hands travelled down Fleur's back and, with trepidation, touched her hips and lower. He received no response except perhaps to deepen the kiss.
He was overwhelmed. This beautiful woman was kissing him. It shouldn't be happening, but damn if he could resist any longer. He knew, somehow, that this had nothing to do with the Veela allure, but all the same, he could not resist.
His hands travelled upward again, this time all the way up her back. Fleur ended the kiss, and stared into Harry's eyes, her breathing ragged.
"I need to know, 'Arry." Fleur whispered. "Do you care for me?"
Harry wasn't sure if he didn't actually care for her couldn't have resisted lying to her, but he was lying to himself if he didn't admit that he did. It wasn't just this, tonight. It had been the previous two days and perhaps even back at the Burrow when he'd started to like her.
"Yes." Harry replied, his tone thick with emotion and, yes, lust. He wanted her. Badly.
Fleur smiled; even in her state she could understand the sincerity in his response.
She grabbed his hands and placed them on her stomach, watching his eyes carefully. Harry alternated between his hands and her eyes, heart racing. Fleur let go and leant forward to kiss him again.
"You can, if you want," she whispered between kisses. Harry, nervous as he'd ever been, moved his hands upwards a little until he felt the undersides of her breasts. He halted, trying to maintain his kissing as well as gauge her reaction. He noticed no complaints. If anything, she moved forward, rubbing against his manhood as well as his hands.
Hesitating a moment longer, he moved his hands a little more, and grasped her breasts. Fleur moaned into his mouth, and Harry could not resist thrusting up into her.
Again, he lacked the words to describe how it felt. It was the best thing he'd ever felt, and he never wanted to let go. Instead, he gently squeezed them, testing out the sensation, and trying desperately to gauge Fleur's reaction so he had some idea of what to do.
Fleur broke their kiss. "More," she said breathlessly.
Harry continued to squeeze her breasts, and he began to move his hands around, finding her nipples and gentle brushing them. Fleur threw her head back, her long, blonde hair trailing down her back. The moonlight hit her body and emphasised every aspect of her Harry could make out.
Fleur moved her hands to her shirt, and lifted it above her head. She discarded it and looked down at Harry with eyes filled with desire. Harry removed his hands, and placed them on her hips. While he had the chance, he drank in the sight of her.
She was perfect. Her body was perfectly proportioned, her breasts perky and large, though not excessively. Perfect for her body shape. Just perfect.
Fleur continued to gyrate against Harry's manhood, and Harry moaned in response. He heard her moan, too, and then felt himself being pushed back. Fleur leant forward and they kissed again, harder and more furiously than before.
She continued to thrust against him, and slowly began to trail kisses down his chin, neck and torso. Despite his best efforts, he thrust into her again and again, the friction delicious.
They continued for another half an hour, before Fleur got off of Harry and lay beside him. She pressed her body to him, and he held her close. Sleep took a long time to arrive.
-x-x-x-x-x-
Dawn came and passed. It was nearly eight when either woke.
Harry was extremely grateful Fleur locked her bedroom door and her parents let Fleur have her privacy when he took in the situation around him. He was lying on his back, with Fleur on his chest. She was still topless, and he could feel her breasts against him. He closed his eyes and basked in the sensation for a long moment.
Then the guilt set in. This shouldn't have happened. She was engaged. But damn, she was hard to resist, even without the allure. And why hadn't she resisted? She'd said she'd wanted it, hadn't she? What did that even mean?
He turned to look at Fleur. He saw her eyes were open, but she was silent. They lay together like that for several minutes.
Last night had been incredible, and Harry knew that it would stay with him for a long time. Was this more what a relationship would've resulted in that his experience with Cho? It certainly felt better.
"You're an interesting man, Harry Potter."
Fleur lifted her head off his chest, her hairs tickling his skin, and lay back onto a pillow. She covered herself slightly with her sheets. Harry squashed the part of him that was saddened at the only brief glimpse he'd gotten.
"That's a word I've not heard associated with me very often." Harry replied after a time. He rolled onto his side and faced her.
"Perhaps eet should," said Fleur, with a smile. "Or perhaps 'andsome, or attractive should take precedence?"
Harry closed his eyes and thought of last night. Her skin, her lips, her breasts on his skin. It had felt magical. He would've considered it a dream if she was not lying against him topless at this very moment.
He opened his eyes again to see Fleur watching him. On the surface, she seemed happy, but in her own head were voices of recrimination for what she'd done. The worst part was she only regretted it a little.
There was a part of her that was pleased at the fact that she had been Harry's first intimate experience. Hell, she had surely succeeded in giving him a memorable night. Even if they hadn't gotten past kissing and mild groping, it had still felt wonderful.
"What time is it?" asked Harry, interrupting Fleur's thoughts. She rolled over and checked a clock.
"'alf eight," she said. "We 'ave three and a 'alf 'ours before your test."
Harry nodded and closed his eyes again. He didn't want to leave just yet. If he was honest, he wanted last night to continue.
Meanwhile, Fleur sat up, her sheets pulled up to cover her exposed breasts. She looked around for her shirt, saw it on the floor nearby and leant down to retrieve it. Shirt in hand, she sat back up and found Harry watching her. Strangely, she did not mind.
He continued to watch her as she put her top back on, even catching another small glimpse of her breasts in the process. Fleur lay back down next to Harry and shuffled forward a bit closer. She wasn't ready for this to end, either.
There would be consequences for last night, but her uncertainty in the moment had shaken her. If Bill wasn't the one for her, was Harry? Or was he simply an outlet for said uncertainty? Would the same have happened if someone else had been in Harry's position?
That, at least, Fleur had an answer for: No. She cared about Harry. That complicated matters considerably. It did provide her with some answers, but certainly more questions, too.
Time passed as the pair lay in bed together. Neither made any move to rekindle the previous night's actions, though the desire was plainly still there. Eventually, however, it was time to rise.
Harry showered first. He spent minutes under the shower simply remembered the previous night, trying to commit to memory every little detail in case this would ever happen again. There was the shape of her body, the feel of her breasts, the light on her skin, and the sensation of kissing those wonderful, pink lips. It took a long time to calm himself.
When he returned, dressed, Fleur was sitting on the bed, looking out her window. Her hair trailed down her back, perfect as if she'd spent hours brushing it. She looked contemplative. However, she turned as he approached. She smiled at him for a moment, and then proceeded to head into her bathroom and shower.
This time, her shower was shorter, though no less confusing. It took a lot less time to reach her release, and her thoughts her solely of the previous evening, the feel of Harry beneath her, upon her. After she was done, she began to feel a little guilty. Guilty because she wanted more.
Once dressed, Harry and Fleur sat together on her bed.
"Zis... while wonderful, 'Arry, is going to cause many problems for you and me."
Harry turned away and closed his eyes. He knew it was coming, knew it needed to happen, but at the same time he wanted to prolong their time together for as long as possible.
"Can, at least, we wait until after my test?"
Breakfast was late. Henri had already department, and Anastasia was off on her own working. Gabrielle had left to visit a friend. Harry and Fleur were alone.
Afterwards, Fleur took Harry outside and drilled every bit of knowledge about Apparition she could think of into Harry's head. He accepted it graciously as his nerves were beginning to return.
All too soon, it was half eleven and time to depart. Fleur bid farewell to her mother, and walked Harry to the Apparition point.
Here we go. Harry thought.
He took Fleur's hand, and, together, they Apparated away.
-x-x-x-x-x-
The test was easy.
Whether it was intentionally so, or Harry simply had a knack for Apparition, he couldn't discern. It didn't matter, really.
The test itself consisted of several Apparitions which differed in a variety of ways. The simplest was several metres and in clear sight, while the harder ones were of distances up to hundreds of metres and with no foreknowledge of the location. He passed with flying colours.
Interestingly, a final test after he had passed indicated the distance to which one could safely Apparate per jump. His was around four hundred kilometres, which Fleur mentioned as very impressive. Her own limit was three hundred and fifty, and she was the best amongst her knowledge base.
Following the test, Fleur led Harry through the extremely hectic French Ministry, which differed a little from the English one, but was fundamentally a similar layout. It was extremely different aesthetically – largely more pleasing, colourful and vibrant in appearance, compared to the extensive portions of bare stone in the English counterpart.
Exiting the elevator to the Minister's office, Harry and Fleur were ushered quickly by a female aide into the waiting area. It was large and warmly decorated. Comfortable chairs were against one wall, with a table filled with reading material, mostly in French (Harry recognised an issue of Transfiguration Today, however), while the receptionist's area was against the other. The nameless aide motioned for them to sit and then headed over to the receptionists area.
Several minutes later, just as Harry was beginning to get restless, the aide returned and once again ushered them forth, this time into a door on the far end of the room.
The French Minster for Magic was a short man, even shorter than Harry. He had long brown hair and a non-descript face. Had Harry not know this was the Minister; he would've mistaken him for a secretary. Fudge hadn't been easy on the eyes, but he wasn't plain.
"Ah, Mr. Potter." The Minister spoke in perfect English with a fairly strong French accent. "I 'ave been looking forward to your visit. Please take a seat." Harry and Fleur took seats on the other side of the desk.
The room was large and richly decorated. It reminded Harry of Dumbledore's office sans all the odds and ends, replaced with files and cabinets.
After a cursory observation of the room, Harry returned his attention to the Minister. What was going to happen here? What did the Minister want from him?
"In case you don't know, Mr. Potter, my name is Aldric Dolton." Minister Dolton smiled at him. Harry offered a brief smile back. After Fudge, he was not going to let himself get caught off guard by a deceptively pleasant outside.
"What can I do for you, Minister Dolton?" Harry asked politely.
"Straight to the point I see."
"I have not had a good relationship with Ministers in my life, sir." Harry replied honestly.
Minister Dolton leaned forward and studied Harry for a moment. Harry had met a lot of new people recently, all performing the same study by staring. This time he didn't flinch or feel uncomfortable. He may only be sixteen but he was not a pushover anymore. Things had certainly changed in the last four months.
The Minister must've come to a conclusion about him for he smiled and leaned back into his chair.
"I requested zis meeting for several reasons," Aldric Dolton said. "Instead of listing zem, I might as well get to the point?"
Harry looked to Fleur, who smiled encouragingly at him. He turned back to the Minister. "I would appreciate that."
"Very well," he said with a small smile.
Fleur watched the two, mostly invisible in this conversation. She wondered why she was permitted to stay.
Minister Dalton sat back up. "Why did you come to France?"
"I was attacked in London's Diagon Alley," Harry replied immediately. "I, erm, don't trust any of the places I had on offer at the time to keep me safe while I recovered. Fleur here," Harry gestured to the part-Veela. The Minister looked to her briefly before returning his focus on Harry. "Was with me at the time. I asked her to take me to her place." Harry paused. "I have no intention of dragging France into all this, sir, if that's what you're worried about."
Minister Dolton looked impressed. That had been one of his main concerns and reasons for asking Harry Potter to visit. However…
"I appreciate ze assurance, Mr. Potter, however that is, unfortunately, beyond your power." Minister Dalton said solemnly. "During ze previous war, ze self-proclaimed 'Voldemort' reached out to peoples of France in an effort to find allies. He has already begun to rekindle those ties to some of ze less desirable denizens of France."
Harry resisted the urge to act surprised at this revelation. After a moment's thought it made perfect sense that Voldemort would seek outside support, but nevertheless it was an eye-opening revelation.
"I am satisfied with zat explanation, and Henri Delacour has confirmed this." Minister Dalton continued. "I simply wished to 'ear it from your mouth. You must forgive my lack of trust at this juncture. Representations of you in ze media have been... varied let us say."
Harry crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.
"Ha, I ze you are in agreement." The Minister grinned for a moment. Then, he grew serious once again. Harry admired the rapidity of the change. It was putting him off balance, and that was probably the reason for it.
"Ze second question I 'ave," he continued. "Is why 'ave you requested to get your Apparition license in France and not your own nation?"
Harry looked at Fleur for a moment, then back to the Minister. The Minister followed his gaze to the young woman before him and back.
"The British Ministry of Magic hasn't exactly been able to keep anything secret when it comes to me." Harry said bluntly. "I don't want the news of my license advertised, or the news that I am even of age. I have a lot of enemies. If they don't know that I am of age, it will be an advantage, even if it is small. The ability to Apparate may save my life if I get caught. You wouldn't think set up defences for Apparition to someone underage. It's not a lot to have up my sleeve, but every bit helps."
Minister Dolton nodded as Harry spoke. "I understand, Mr. Potter. Ze British Ministry is riddled wiz wizards who would jump at the chance to earn a galleon by revealing classified information. Zat is one of ze reasons we don't get along well wiz your Ministry. The Tri-Wizard Tournament was 'oped to improve relations. But zat turned disastrous, and your Minister refused to acknowledge ze return of Voldemort."
The Minister looked between the two once more. "'owever, it appears to 'ave not been a complete disaster."
Harry turned to Fleur and the pair shared a smile. Not a complete disaster, no.
"Henri is an old friend of mine," the Minister began. "When he approached me after ze Third Task of ze Tournament with ze story Fleur said, I was, admittedly, sceptical. However, I knew he would not lie to me. We 'ave been preparing ever since."
Harry didn't reply, instead absorbing the information.
Minister Dolton took a breath. "My third reason for requesting this meeting may seem trivial, however I believe it is important."
"Sir?"
"I wished to meet you, Mr. Potter." Minister Dolton said. "You are a famous person, even outside the British Isles." Harry couldn't resist making a face. "I see you are displeased by this. There is, however, more to it than that. I wish to offer my friendship."
"Your friendship?" repeated Harry. Fleur offered him no answers when he glanced at her. "What do you mean?"
"Your newspapers 'ave taken to calling you ze 'Chosen One'," said Minister Dolton. "Whether zis is true iz irrelevant to me. 'owever, if you were to rise to a powerful standing in the future, I wish for us to have a close relationship. France and England 'ave a long history, both good and bad. I seek a friendship with England, but only once zere are competent persons are involved."
"I see." Harry said. He didn't know what to say to that. He wasn't even certain he'd survive, let alone enter politics. Even then, this short interaction hardly revealed Minister Dolton's true colours. He couldn't answer this now. Harry didn't think he ever would be able to.
"Zat is enough, Mr. Potter." Minister Dolton said, suddenly getting to his feet. "You are yet young and I wish not to overburden you with thoughts beyond your current breadth of influence. I 'ope you will zink of me positively once ze mess in your 'omeland is over."
Still a little stunned, it took Harry a moment to gather his wits and respond. Their farewells were brief, and a frustrated looking worker passed by Harry and Fleur on their way out. The Ministers' next meeting, probably.
Harry let out a deep breath once he was on the elevator again.
That had been interesting.
-x-x-x-x-x-
Harry and Fleur Apparated back to the Delacour manor. The trip had been simple for Harry, who nevertheless made certain he still had all his body parts. He'd probably do that a few more times until he was used to the concept of Apparating alone.
"What did you make of that?" asked Harry as the pair walked back to the manor.
"I am not sure." Fleur replied, deep in thought. Harry watched her think, her brows furrowed. Then, his eyes trailed south, over her smart-casual, white button shirt and jeans. Immediately he thought of last night, her skin under his...
"I believe he was genuine in his interest in becoming friends with you, 'Arry," said Fleur, drawing Harry back to reality. Somewhat ashamed, he looked at the rapidly approaching manor. "However, I do not know if he was in the ze reason."
Harry shrugged. "It doesn't matter for the moment. That seemed far more future planning than I generally think about. If I survive, we'll see what happens."
"If, 'Arry? I should 'ope zat was a slip of ze tongue." Fleur stopped. Harry turned to face her. She looked saddened.
Harry shrugged a second time. "I hope to survive, Fleur. I just don't know if I will."
"You will." Fleur said with conviction. "You will survive."
Uncertain on what to say, he smiled at her. Fleur smiled back after a moment, and the pair went inside for lunch.
The remainder of the day was spent roaming the French countryside. Fleur side-alonged Harry for the majority of the trips since they were completely unfamiliar places. Harry didn't complain.
Finally, however, dusk approached and the pair returned home for dinner with Fleur's parents. Henri and Anastasia congratulated him on his success in the test. They carefully asked questions about the meeting with Minister Dolton, and Harry obliged answers in turn. They had not needed to help him at all let alone as much as they did. He owed them.
But soon it was time for him to return to Hogwarts. Harry didn't want to, but he knew it was necessary.
"I guess this is goodbye for now." Harry said, looking up to Fleur and examining her face. He had his belongings shrunken and inside his pockets.
"Oui. Not for long zough," Fleur smiled at him. "I 'ave ze Pensieve to bring to you in a couple of weeks. Ze Pensieves are difficult to make and can only be ordered specially."
"I will have to borrow you for a weekend again once it's made."
"I'm looking forward to it," Fleur replied honestly.
Harry grew quiet for a moment. He raised his right hand, hesitated and placed it on Fleur's left cheek. "I don't really understand how what happened, happened. Whether it was a onetime thing or more, I just want to say I'm glad it happened."
Fleur smiled softly, placing her hand over his. "Zis is so confusing." She moved her head into his hand. "I still love Bill …" she closed her eyes. "Part of me is glad it happened too, ze rest ..."
"We both have a fair bit of thinking ahead of us, I guess." Harry stated the obvious, watching the French woman leaning into his hand.
"Concentrate on keeping yourself alive, 'Arry. Zere is so much in life you 'ave yet to experience. Voldemort is not ze end for you." Fleur's eyes opened, flashing with determination that flooded into Harry's soul, giving him hope.
Harry pulled her into a hug. Fleur responded immediately, sensing he needed it. For a solid minute they held each other before slowly releasing each other. "Thank you, Fleur."
Harry gave her one last smile, picked up his packages and walked outside of the wards. With a soft 'pop', Harry left France, left his serenity and began his journey back to the darkness at Hogwarts.
He had his moment of peace, of happiness. Regardless of the consequences that come about, Harry was glad it had happened.
For now, however, it was time to go back to the war.
