AN: Ok so it's been a while, but I made it. Enjoy!

Harry POV

After Harry closed the entrance behind Fleur, he went over to Hedwig who was still a bit worked up. When he had accepted to try dating Fleur, she had tried to hug him a bit too quickly which startled the poor owl on his shoulder who accidently flapped her wing in the french witch's face and pecked her head.

Harry knew Hedwig was a good owl and wouldn't hurt Fleur deliberately, but she had been surprised by the sudden movement. Seeing his pet was still restless, he stroked her for a few seconds and she calmed down.

"Be a bit more careful next time…" he said gently.

*hoot!*

Glancing at his clock he noticed it was still a while before he needed to go to lunch and decided to use the time to think about what had just happened. While he had agreed to dating the french witch, he had still insisted that this was technically on a trial basis and had set forth one major stipulation: it was to remain a secret until they decided otherwise.

Despite what many may think, Harry didn't do well with the kind of attention that came with dating someone like Fleur. But that wasn't the only reason. The main reason for this was that he was nearly certain it would crumble in a matter of weeks. Be it because she would eventually lose interest or because his inexperience would cause him to mess things up, he was convinced that it was going to end quickly and embarrassingly.

When that was going to happen, he didn't want the entire school to be aware of his failure and therefore opted for discretion.

And so, the young wizard spent the day mulling over all the ways this newfound relationship could end and which one was the most likely.

Fleur POV

It had been two weeks since the fated moment in Harry's room during which their glorious relationship started and she was viciously attacked by that hateful owl. But the young witch's elation had soon died down when she realized what the terms of the 'relationship' actual implied.

To put it mildly, nothing had changed. They wouldn't talk to each other that much more and Harry was busy with classes or self-study most of the time anyway. Not to mention, he had remained oblivious to her subtle invitations and had outright rejected the idea of them seeing each other at night stating various excuses, that while individually valid reasons, became a clear rejection when taken together.

The only time they spent time together was in the morning before going to class, after lunch when they would sit together at the lake and before dinner. They didn't sit together during meals, which objectively might be a good thing considering how many heads that would turn, but she didn't see it that way.

This disappointment led the french Veela to where she was now. In Hogsmeade, buying the materials necessary for an animagus transformation. With the full moon coming tonight, it was the perfect time to start.

The reason she decided to go through with it was, while perfectly reasonable to her, rather outlandish. She had reasoned that as an animal she could far more easily sneak into her mate's room unnoticed and perhaps even move in without him realizing it. Furthermore, if her animal form became a trusted pet, she would be privy to Harry's doubts and problems far more easily.

However, as her family held no titles in Great Britain and she wasn't in possession of an order of Merlin. She would have to register, something tedious that would waste precious time. And so she decided to simply purchase what she needed on the black market. Worst case scenario, her diplomatic immunity would keep her covered if she was caught.

Her only problem, was that she was lost…

The message from the seller had clearly indicated a turn left after the house with the broken gutter, then a right just before the shop with a horse logo, then straight until the fork, into the alley behind the Bar.

She had dutifully followed the instructions and now waited behind the bar. Only it was a full 45 minutes after the agreed upon time, and the seller was still nowhere to be found, leading her to believe she was lost.

So she doubled back, and walked around the village for another hour. All the while covered with a black cloak and with her hair dyed black. The poor girl had only noticed after she left the carriage that she looked suspiciously like a Death Eater, and it didn't help that she kept walking quickly while anxiously looking around.

But at the same time they didn't have Death Eaters in France, so how was she to know. Those stupid English idiots and their pure blood thingy. In France, and everywhere else in the world, blood purity didn't matter, in fact it wasn't even a thing. Sure, there was discrimination on a lot of other things like wealth, race and gender. But when it came to magic you either have it or you don't, your parents didn't matter. The way they treated muggles however was a whole other matter.

Historically there were two types of doctrines in Europe, light or dark.

In France, Italy and Spain, the 'light' doctrine was employed. According to them muggles were like cattle, they were needed for agriculture and occasionally war. As such while they didn't have the same rights as wizards they weren't horribly mistreated.

However in central Europe, where no stable government ruled, conflicts were common and often the law of the jungle took over. The 'dark' doctrine was far more widespread. In those countries, muggles weren't considered 'people' or even 'cattle', they were just 'muggles'. While all of it had happened long before Fleur's time, she had heard how it was for muggles in central europe during the dark ages and whatever you're imagining, it was worse.

Then with the Statute of secrecy things died down, but the views remain similar. After all, Gellert Grindelwald could be considered a moderate when compared to some of his ancestors.

That said, Great Britain was remarkably progressive with the way they treated their muggles. The law against muggle baiting remained to this day the most extreme measure in the world when it came to muggle protection. Yet despite their great compassion for muggles, the British chose to prey on each other based on whose parents had magic... it made no sense to her.

Walking back to the meeting place again, she cursed the tiny alleys of Hogsmead. It made her miss the wide streets of Paris she used to loath. Just one more thing to add to the things she didn't like about this country, along with the food and the weather.

Coming from an old french family, Fleur didn't have a positive predisposition to anything British. Despite the current relatively close relations between their countries, the old french families hadn't forgotten past rivalries and a few were still quite resentful from the 'events' of 1815. Her great-grandfather would turn over in his grave if he knew she was dating an Englishman.

The young witch smiled fondly remembering some of her great-grandfather's rants about 'those damn Brits' and 'the war'.

Thought he never made it clear which war he was referring to, and up until she was 10 she believed he was talking about the hundred-year war, though in her defense her father used to joke that it was.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed her arm and pulled her to the side. Before she even realized what had happened, blue flames were everywhere. The ground began to emit smoke as the grass between the pavement instantly combusted and the stone walls surrounding them began to glow red. But most shockingly, the flesh of the hand holding her melted and the exposed bone began to crack from the heat. An earth wrenching scream accompanied the smell of burnt flesh.

"Wait! Wait! It's me!"

As the french girl recovered from her shock, the blue flames disappeared just as fast as they had appeared.

"Don't touch me!"

"You burnt my fucking hand off!"

"Hmpf. Consider yourself lucky, if I hadn't been distracted, you'd be ash right now."

She hated the way she sounded right now, but an accent charm had been essential to conceal her identity. Forget about her dating an Englishman, if her Great-Grandfather was still alive and heard her, he would have a heart attack.

"That better not have been fiendfyre..."

The man moaned while attempting a few healing spells. Fiendfyre burns were notoriously hard to treat, they required an experienced healer well versed in curse breaking and most of the time it was unrecoverable.

Veela flames were similar to fiendfyre in many ways. Fleur's flames had once been compared to the ultimate form of fiendfyre, which in living memory had only been achieved by Grindlewald. But the major divergence between Veela fire and fiendfyre was that Veela fire wasn't cursed.

That said, it was still magical fire and a burn treating ointment wouldn't do much.

"Fuck! It's not working! You used fiendfyre didn't you?!"

"No. You're just bad"

Discreetly waving hand, Fleur felt the magic in the burn return to her. When she was sure all the magic had left the burn, she cast a pain-relieving charm on the man's hand.

"There. Just put on some burn-healing paste on it and go buy a flesh regrowing potion. Do you have my stuff?"

"Yeah. But I really should charge you more because of this."

He argued while showing his charred hand.

Money wasn't a problem for Fleur, but she really didn't like people touching her and the guy was getting on her nerves.

"Right and I really should burn you to ash, so let's call it even."

Compared to some of the other men who tried their luck and attempted to touch her, the guy could be said to have gotten off lightly.

Snatching the box out of the guys hand, Fleur stormed off.

Harry POV

Tonight was the night, the full moon. It was finally time for his month of mandrake sucking to come to an end. The potion had been prepared in advance and the place he had chosen to complete the process was the shrieking shack. He had snuck out using his invisibility cloak and gotten to the shack using the passage beneath the whomping willow.

Currently he was setting up the storm summoning ritual he would need. The marauders had conducted extensive research into the matter and had to try numerous things before finding a ritual that worked and only required things that could be found at Hogwarts. These things included a rain dance which he would have loved to see.

Soon the ritual was ready, all he needed now was a direct ray of moonlight. Unfortunately, it was foggy and while the moon was visible the ray wasn't direct. If he didn't have the marauder's notes, he would have needed to start over and wouldn't be ready in time for the first task in two days. But he did have them and knew exactly what to do.

Harry raised his wand to the sky and shouted "Lok Vah Koor!"

In moments the fog dissipated, and a clear ray of moonlight shone on the boy's face. Harry reached into his mouth and retrieved the only remaining mandrake leaf; he had ended up swallowing another when he was running his tongue over it and the other had slipped out when he was trying to get a string of meat out of his teeth.

Making sure it received plenty of direct moonlight, Harry dropped the leaf into the potion and steered it until the leaf dissolved. He then walked to the ritual he had prepared, stepped in the middle of the circle, raised his wand to the sky and shouted "Strun Bah Qo!".

Within moments the sky began to darken and soon a downpour started, it wasn't long before thunder began to resound. Smiling to himself, Harry stepped out of the circle.

Going a safe distance away from the shack, he held his wand over his heart and whispered "Amato Animo Animato Animagus" before downing the potion in a single gulp.

AN: Right, so I've been busy coupled with a strong lack of motivation / inspiration. That and stuff that made me not in the mood for romance writing, resulted in the chapter taking a while. But that said, I did keep my word of trying to make one a month so that's a win. Please rate and review, the cliffhanger is to let you speculate a bit on what his form is gonna be MOUAHAHAHAHA!