Aftermath and Revelation – A flashback

"text" – conversation in English

"text" – conversation in French/Bulgarian depending on the speaker

Text – thought

Her car skidded to a halt on the gravel right in front of the marble entrance steps. She exited the car and walked up the steps hurriedly and entered the chateau. The sound of the door slammed hard behind her echoed through the chateau's lobby.

She walked past the house elf who was staring at her in confusion and was about to walk up the grand marble staircase when someone else called out to her:-

"Fleur?"

She turned around to look.

It was her mother. She came in from the living room. There was a book in her hand. Apparently the noise Fleur made when she made her entrance distracted her mother's reading so her mother decided to take a look.

Appoline noticed the look on her daughter's face and her eyebrows creased. She put down her book on top a small table nearby and walked up to Fleur.

"Is there anything wrong, honey?" asked Appoline gently. Her voice however laced with deep concern. She caressed her daughter's cheek and asked again, "What happened?"

Fleur shook her head.

"Nothing happened, mama," replied Fleur. She concocted a faint smile. "I'm fine. I'm just… a little bit tired."

Appoline nodded. She then noticed that Fleur was alone.

"Where is Harry?" she asked.

Apparently Fleur noticed that too. In her anger, she had totally forgotten all about him. She was supposed to bring him back to the chateau for dinner with her family that evening. She instead left him alone at the park at the bank of River Isere.

Not that it matters anyway. It was his fault. He should not have done it.

"He could not come. He apologized," said Fleur.

"I see," spoke Appoline. She then smiled and grabbed both Fleur's hands, gave them a squeeze and said, "You do look tired. Go and get some rest. We'll have dinner together once your father arrives from work."

Fleur nodded. She then leaned forward and allowed her mother to kiss her on both cheeks before retreating to her bedroom.

Appoline's eyes followed her daughter as Fleur climbed the staircase and disappeared behind the door of her bedroom.

She knew that Fleur lied to her.

Fleur put her bag on the dressing table and threw herself onto her bed. Staring at the ceiling, the memory of the event on that day went through her mind.

She could not believe that Harry would have the audacity to do that to her. She could not believe that he would propose. What did he think she was, a widow who craved men's attention? Was that what she was in the eyes of men? That she could not live without them?

Maybe she should not have greeted him back at the Elysee Palace. Maybe she should have left him alone and allowed him to do his job as he was supposed to. Maybe she should have remembered her lesson that when it comes to her, men will always misunderstand. They will always misunderstand her intention, even when it was plainly obvious that she just wanted to be friends. Not more than that.

Harry clearly misunderstood her. Like every other man, he thought that she wanted to strike a relationship with him. He was wrong. Dead wrong.

She just wanted to be friends with him for he, apart from Hermione and the Weasleys, were the only connections she got left with the British Isle. The war had inevitably brought all of them closer together. Fleur did not want to lose any of them. She knew that Hermione and the Weasleys would write to her. Except Harry. She knew him too well that he definitely won't do the same if nobody goaded him which was why she made Harry agree to write to her before she left the Burrow after Bill's funeral.

Much to her disappointment, despite the agreement, he still did not write to her. Only letters from Hermione and Molly provided solace to her. It was only after their reunion at the Elysee Palace that things changed between them.

Harry was a good man. She knew that. But despite his heroic tribute during the war, he would still be that 'leetle boy' she first met within that chamber after the Triwizard Champion selection to her eyes.

For her love remained only to Bill. And to Bill alone. And nothing and no one would ever change that.

She rolled to her side and laid her eyes on that one single framed portrait that was now perching proudly on top of her bedside table. It was a picture of her and Bill in their happier times. They both, standing side by side and hugging each other tightly, were smiling and waving at her. Her head can be seen resting on Bill's chest. She extended her hand and slowly her finger caressed Bill in that picture. It was in the moments like this that she began to miss her late husband so much.

She sighed. Retracting her hand, she got off the bed and walked towards her dressing table. She rummaged her handbag and took out her phone and began checking for any text or call she might miss.

She was half expecting that her phone would be inundated by lots of missed calls and text messages from Harry. There were none.

Shaking her head, Fleur put down her phone on top of her dressing table and made her way to the bathroom.

Dinner that night was a silent affair. There were only three of them. Gabrielle was at Beauxbaton. Summer school break won't arrive for another few months. Both Monsieur Delacour and Appoline glanced at each other. They knew that something had gone wrong. Fleur was unusually silent and looked sullen that night.

After helping her mother washed the dishes, she went back to her room. The first thing she checked was her phone. Indeed there were a few missed calls and text messages came in when she was having dinner. All of them were from Harry. All of those missed texts had apologetic headlines on them. She deleted each and every one of them including all the texts he sent her prior, not wanting to have anything to do with them. She even deleted his number from her phone.

That night Cassandra called her. She, along with the rest of the squad got themselves mobile phones after seeing Fleur and Harry using it and realized how convenient it was to have one. They talked for about an hour. Cassandra told her that she got apprenticeship at St. Mungo and will be departing to England within the next two weeks. Fleur asked her why she did not get an apprenticeship in France, like in Paris for instance. Cassandra told her that the man she was currently dating had moved to London a month ago due to job relocation and he had asked her to follow him. She agreed. Much to Fleur's surprise, Cassandra told her that she already engaged to that man and they were planning to hold a wedding ceremony within six months.

"When did this happen? You didn't tell me you were engaged?" said Fleur, surprised.

"He proposed to me a week before he departed to London. Sorry, I didn't mean to keep it a secret but my fiancée told me not to tell anyone before the time comes. But now you know! Just try not to tell anyone else about this, will you Fleur? The girls didn't know yet. He and I want to make it a surprise," pleaded Cassandra.

"I won't tell. I promise. And I am happy for you, Cassy," said Fleur. "Just don't forget to invite me to your wedding. I won't talk to you anymore if you forget."

Cassandra laughed.

"No, I won't," said Cassandra. "There'll be no question of forgetting because you my dear Fleur, together with Gabby are going to be my bridesmaids along with the girls for the wedding. My fiancée and I already planned it all. You'll receive our invitation cards soon. Your parents will also be invited."

"Thank you. I am so looking forward to it. Just make sure we bridesmaids get the best dress you can find. And no pink."

"You got it," said Cassandra, laughing. Once her laughter died down, in a more serious tone she asked, "So how about you, Fleur?"

"I'm good."

"You know what I'm talking about, Fleur. It's been two years since your husband's passing. You know that, right?" said Cassandra.

"I know what you're talking about, Cassy. I'm just… not ready."

Fleur could hear Cassandra sighing over the phone.

"You always say that," said Cassandra. "You know at this rate, you'll never be ready. You're going to die alone, you know that?"

"And what's wrong with that?" asked Fleur.

"Believe me, there's a lot of things wrong with that mindset of yours, Fleur. Look, I know you still love your late husband and you still can't get over him. You had been refusing to move on for the past couple of years. The thing is, you're still young, Fleur. You still have your life ahead of you. You don't want to be forever alone, do you?" said Cassandra. "I'm sure Bill will understand."

"You don't know that! Bill is dead, remember?" said Fleur, a little bit heatedly this time.

"I know he is. Do you think I forget? You're right. I will never know what he will be thinking but your friends including me and your parents will want you to be happy. We want you to live your life the way it should be. It won't do to dwell just on memories, Fleur. It's not safe. And it's not healthy," said Cassandra.

Cassandra had been pestering her about moving on from Bill. Fleur knew that the attempt that night won't be the last. She needed to give Cassandra some sort of guarantee so that she could stop from pestering her, even if it just for temporary.

"I'll think about it," said Fleur. She rolled over and laid her back on her bed. Her fingers ran through her long silvery blonde hair. "Maybe if I could find the right man at the right place and at the right time, perhaps l could move on."

"What about Harry?" asked Cassandra.

"He's just a friend. I don't intend for him to go past that. Besides, he's too young for me. I don't think we'll be a perfect match," said Fleur.

"Alright. I understand. When it comes to love and happiness, you need someone you could really click with. They said there should be some kind of spark… I don't know. I'm not the romantic type. But you know, you have been the happiest person I've seen these past few months since Bill died. Maybe there's something to it," said Cassandra. "But whatever it is, please-oh-please consider what I just said. You really deserve to be happy, Fleur."

Fleur chuckled. "I'll consider it. Thanks for being my best friend, Cassy."

They continued to talk for the next few minutes.

What Cassandra said to her did give her a pause after they hang up. Her best friend was right. These past few months were among the happiest she ever felt in her life. She had forgotten all her sadness and sorrows since Bill passing. She smiled and laughed a lot and was far more engaging and lively than ever before. She was practically glowing with happiness. She could not deny that even her parents and her sister were extremely pleased to see the changes in her attitude.

Could that all be attributed to Harry, she silently wondered. But then again, all her friends managed to make her happy, she reasoned. It could not be just Harry, could it? Could it?

All these thoughts began to make her confused. She began to feel a tinge of regret. She began to wonder if she did the right thing by pushing Harry away.

But Harry had crossed the boundary by proposing to her. He had broken her trust. She would never be able to love him like she loved Bill. That man should have realized it. They never talked about anything romantic anyway. How could he think that she wanted a relationship with him?

Her anger to Harry rose once again. She decided that pushing Harry away was the right thing to do.

Soft knocks from the door woke her from her stupor.

"Come in," she said.

Her bedroom door opened, revealing her mother.

Fleur rose and sat on her bed. "Hi, mama," she greeted.

"Still awake, Fleur? It's already thirty minutes past ten," said Appoline, entering Fleur's bedroom and proceeded to sit on the bed beside Fleur. "It's getting late. You need to rise early tomorrow. You got an early class next morning, remember?"

"I was going to sleep when Cassandra called," Fleur explained. "We talked for about an hour. She sent you her regards. Oh, she's inviting all of us to her wedding."

Appoline's eyebrows lifted. "She's getting married? That is wonderful. When and where?"

"In six months time. She had yet told me the venue but she promised that she will send us invitation cards," answered Fleur.

Appoline nodded. "So what about Harry? When do you plan to see him again?"

Fleur glanced sideway towards her mother.

"I don't know."

"Fleur, is there something wrong going on between you two?" asked her mother.

"There's nothing wrong going on between us, mama. Harry was just busy. He's an auror, remember? And he is the head of the DMLE. There'll be lesser time for us to be together," said Fleur.

Appoline nodded in understanding.

"I was just curious. I am glad that all is well between both of you. Send my regards to him the next time you speak to him, would you?" she said.

"Yes, mama."

Appoline leaned over and gave Fleur a kiss on her cheek. After saying good night, she made her exit from the room.

Fleur just watched her bedroom's door closed. She could not tell her parents what really went down between Harry and her. Not yet anyway.

She gave her phone one last check before she went to sleep. There were two missed calls and a text message coming from Harry. She deleted them and put her phone on top of her bedside table, pulled the cover over her and immediately went to sleep.

May had gone by. July came along.

The next two months set the tone between her and Harry. He kept calling her and sent her text messages. She ignored all of them. The calls and text messages only stopped after she blocked his number. The owl mail then came. Once again she ignored them. She would pick all the mails with Harry's writing on it and threw it into the fireplace. It finally stopped after a couple of weeks. She did not hear anything from him since then.

She felt relieved but at the same time, there was the feeling of strange emptiness creeping inside her heart that she could not explain. She did not deny that she missed the days when she and Harry were still in good term. Those were the happier times. As time went by, the feeling got stronger than ever that she ended up unblocking his number every once in awhile just to see if he tried to contact her.

None came by.

Until August came. It was the third Saturday of that month.

She had just got back from breakfast with her family. Gabrielle returned home on Friday evening for her summer break. Her parents decided to have breakfast at a café in Grenoble that morning to celebrate Gabby's return from the academy. There was a letter neatly placed on her bed when she entered her bedroom. She picked it up and her heart leapt when she saw Harry's writing on the envelope.

If that letter came three months ago, she would have burnt it inside the fireplace. But by this time, her anger to him had evaporated. She was beginning to miss him. A lot. And the appearance of that letter made her happy.

The next logical step would be to read the letter. And that was what she was about to do.

But just she was about to tear the envelope open, she froze.

For the past few weeks, she thought of contacting Harry. She wanted to hear his voice. She wanted to know what he had been up to. She wanted to know if he already gained a girlfriend, which much to her own surprise, hope that he had not. But every time she picked up her phone, she ended up putting it back. She felt the embarrassment and felt guilty for what she did. She finally realized that she was over reacting. She could have just said it nicely to him when he proposed. She could have explained to him on why she rejected him instead of ghosting on him. Harry would have accepted her explanations and they would still be friends, hanging out together and just being happy.

But the damage had been done. There won't be any turning back now.

She could contact Hermione and asked her about Harry. The only thing that prevented her from doing that was that Hermione would inevitably knew what really happened between Harry and her. After all, she always said that everything between them were fine whenever she and Hermione conversed on phone.

She stared at Harry's handwriting for a very long time. No matter how curious she was, she could not find the courage to read what was inside of it.

She opened her bedside table drawer and carefully placed the letter inside. She silently hoped that she would find the courage soon.

Three months went by since then. And she spent those times contemplating whether or not she should contacted him. But every time she reached for her phone or her quill, she faltered.

The weather was getting colder as November arrived at their doorstep.

She, Gabrielle and their mother were preparing dinner on that fateful day.

Right at 6.30pm, Monsieur Delacour's Rolls Royce arrived at entrance of the house. Monsieur Delacour walked in, greeted by his wife. For some reason, he looked disheveled and worried that evening. Appoline asked her husband what was wrong. Monsieur Delacour said that he will talk about it later. He also asked if Fleur was there. Appoline told him that their eldest daughter was busy helping her preparing dinner.

That night during dinner:-

"Fleur," Monsieur Delacour began. "Are you still in contact with Harry Potter?"

Fleur hesitated for a moment. "Yes," she later replied.

"Would you mind telling me where he is?" asked Monsieur Delacour.

Fleur's gaze darted between her father and her mother.

"He's in London. Why?" she said.

Her father stared at her for a few moments.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

Fleur did not respond. She just stared back at her father.

"When was the last time you were in contact with him?" asked Monsieur Delacour.

Still no response.

Monsieur Delacour sighed and shook his head.

"Harry wasn't in London if you must know," said Monsieur Delacour. "He was in Russia for the past three months on a mission under the behest of the Russian Government. The British won't tell me the nature of his mission but they did mention that it was a Class 1 Priority. That mean it is a very high risk mission involving the searching and neutralizing a certain very dangerous wizard. Unfortunately, the Russian lost contact of him five weeks ago. They promptly sent a rescue team to his last known location but found nothing. The British scrambled their own rescue team to assist the Russian immediately after they were alerted. Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt told me that Harry is now classified as missing in action and to make matters worse, given all the clues currently they have, the Russian suspected that Harry was killed given the nature of his mission. The British however refused to accept that which is why they asked for our help. We are sending a group of aurors to Russia this evening. Germany, the United States and a few other nations will send theirs as well. They will rally together with the British and the Russian in search for him. Unfortunately, the area of search is too vast and there are dangers of the search parties being attacked by whoever it is that caused this tragedy in the first place. If the search continues to be fruitless within the next few weeks, we would just have to accept that he might have been killed which is why it is important that you share any information you had on him. So far the media had yet to know about this. You said that you are still in contact with him. Did he tell you anything?"

Fleur once again failed to answer. Instead, she got off the chair and ran towards her bedroom. She grabbed her phone and began dialing Harry's number. She already had his number unblocked ever since the day that one single letter arrived, waiting and hoping that he will make a contact.

"The number you had dialed is not in service."

"No!"

She tried dialing once more and again was greeted with same voicemail message.

She thought hard. Suddenly she remembered Hermione. The Gryffindor brightest girl worked with Harry. She would know on what was really going on.

Fleur frantically dialed Hermione's number. It was only after three tries that she managed to get through.

"Hello?"

"'Ello? 'Ermione, it iz me, Fleur," said Fleur.

"Oh, hi Fleur! It's been a while since we last talked. How have you been?" said Hermione.

"I am fine. Listen, 'Ermione. Zhis iz about 'Arry. What 'appen to 'im? Iz zhere anyzhing you could tell me?"

"Oh, you heard about him huh? The truth is I don't know," said Hermione. Her voice sounded worried. "I'm going to Moscow tonight. Neville and Ronald were already there a few weeks ago. So far they found nothing. Maybe I'll find out even more and could help them with something when I get there."

"'Ermione, I'm worried," said Fleur. She was on the verge of tears. "Zhey said-, zhey said 'e waz killed."

"Don't say that. He is the strongest person I know of. He'll live," consoled Hermione. "You're not the only one. All of us are also worried for him too. My mother in law totally broke down when she heard the news. She practically begged me to search for him. Well, you know how Harry is. He never gives any thought about his safety and well being just as long as the job gets done. But please have faith. Maybe he is okay after all. Look, I need to get ready. I will tell you what I find out once I got to Moscow. Alright?" said Hermione.

"Alright. 'Ave a safe journey, 'Ermione. And zhank you," said Fleur.

"You're welcome."

She put down her phone.

"Fleur?"

It was her mother. She was watching her daughter from the threshold of the room.

Fleur immediately ran to her mother and hugged her tightly.

"It's my fault! This is all my fault!" she bawled.

Resting her head on her mother's chest, crying, Fleur began to tell her everything, on what really happened between her and Harry for the past few months.

Gabrielle who stood beside her mother looked stunned. She was lost of words to say.

As for Monsieur Delacour, he simply watched the event unfolded in front of him in silence.

Morning came.

Fleur sat on her bed. She had been staring at the wall for the past couple of hours since she woke up. There was an opened letter that laid beside her.

Appoline stayed with her daughter for the whole night. She was afraid that her daughter might do something foolish in result of her grief. She brought her daughter breakfast. It remained untouched though.

There was a knock on the door.

Fleur did not answer it. She remained at where she was.

The door opened a little.

"May I come in?"

It was Monsieur Delacour.

Fleur remained silent. She did not even turn to look. Her eyes remained fixated to the wall.

Monsieur Delacour decided to let himself in. He closed the door behind him and proceeded to sat beside Fleur on her bed. He noticed the opened letter. He took it and began to read:-

XXXXXXXXXX

Dear Fleur,

I hope you would read this. I had been trying to reach you through any means necessary. We both know how it went.

I am sorry. I am sorry for what I did. I know it was wrong. I know it was foolish of me to try. I should have known that you would still love Bill, that it would be foolish of me trying to replace him. It was totally uncalled for. Nobody is going to replace him. I know that now.

The truth is Fleur, I had been in love with you for quite some time. But I didn't know if you would reply in kind. Now I know. There won't be any place for me in your heart. I figure that since this will be the last letter I sent you, I might as well tell you the truth.

I will forever cherish what we had before. I will always remember our friendship. I pray and hope that someday and somewhere, you will find the person who will love you as much as you will love him. I promise that I won't stand in the way and I promise that I won't disturb you anymore.

Thank you for everything.

Goodbye,

Harry James Potter.

XXXXXXXXXX

Monsieur Delacour put down the letter. He glanced sideways at his daughter.

"I am not angry," he began. "As a matter a fact, I come here to apologize."

Fleur did not say anything.

"I admit, it was my fault," he continued. "I am the one who told Harry to propose. I apologize. I never knew it would end this way."

Fleur's head slowly turned to look at him. There was a look of surprise on her face.

"You?" she said.

Monsieur Delacour solemnly nodded.

"After your husband died, you were a complete mess. You were falling down into deep and dark abyss of sadness and despair. Whatever light that used to grace your eyes had all but gone. Your mother and I could only watch. We were so helpless. Even the veela priestesses were unable to do anything. Until Harry came along. For the past few months since then I watched both of you. And I could not be happier by what I saw. I saw what he did to you. He changed you from someone who was grieving into someone who's full of life. Happiness glowed from within you and it infected everyone around you. The light in your eyes returned, shining even brighter than ever before. From someone who was riddled with sadness and despair, you became a person who's full of love and hope. To be honest, I have never seen you like that before. I feel indebted to him. It was from that moment, I knew that he was the one who's right for you. I knew that he will take good care of you after my passing. After all, he is a good man."

Fleur said nothing. She continued to stare at her father.

"I guess I was an ignorant old fool. I wanted both of you to ended being together so much that I underestimated your love for William. I ignored your right to dictate your life, on how it's going to be. Once again, I apologize. If you must know, Harry refused to bow down to my wish at first. He was deeply aware of the deep feeling you held for William. He admitted to me that he had fallen in love with you but at the same time, he did not want to hurt you. He cared too much for you. He was worried that by proposing to you, it will destroy everything you both shared together. It took some convincing on my part before he finally agreed. I never thought that what he feared came true. Fleur, it wasn't his fault. It was mine," continued Monsieur Delacour.

Fleur slowly looked down and away from her father. And for the next few minutes, they sat there together in silence.

"If he is still alive," said Fleur softly, breaking the silence. "If he comes back and if his proposal still holds, I will gladly accept him. I will never leave him."

Tears once again fell down her beautiful face. But it was not the tears of sadness. It was the tears of hope.

Monsieur Delacour let out a faint smile. He pulled Fleur into a hug and kissed her forehead.

"Everything will be alright, my dear flower. Everything will be alright."

But things had just gotten worst from there.

For the next few weeks, Fleur continuously kept in touch with Hermione. Monsieur Delacour himself went to Moscow several times as he continued to keep watch on the search and rescue effort.

As predicted, several search and rescue team were ambushed by wizards suspected to be Khrushchev loyalist. Several members of the teams were badly injured in results of the attack. Luckily, no one ended up dead.

One particularly bad news came in one evening. One of the teams found an abandoned camping site somewhere within Northern Siberia. They reported to have found items believed to be belonging to Harry. The team intensified their search throughout the surrounding area but they found nothing. Most worryingly though, a few of those items were covered in blood.

"It was Harry's blood. We confirmed it. We can't be certain on what really happened but given the evidences, it was clear that he was involved in a really fierce fight," said Hermione to Fleur in one of their phone conversations. "Unfortunately we can't be sure of what his true fate really is. There's no bod-,..."

At this point, Hermione could not continue. She could not entertain the fact of Harry could already be dead.

As for Fleur, she continued to pray for her eventual fiancée's safety.

January came.

And still there were no news of Harry's fate for the past few months. A lot of nations that joined the search coalition began to pull their team back. Even the British were beginning to accept that Harry did not survive. Only the Russian remained adamant. They had promised to continue with the search. At the same time, a new team had been formed. Their task would be to take over the mission to seek and neutralized Khrushchev for that wizard remained a dangerous threat to the western hemisphere.

Plans had been to announce Harry's demise. It will be just a matter of time before the announcement will be made.

As for Fleur, she had begun wearing black since before Christmas. She too was beginning to lose hope. Cassandra who understood Fleur's feeling at this moment had agreed to postpone her wedding until after a conclusive answer on Harry's fate had been found.

She was grieving again. The only difference was that this time around, she refused to be weak. She knew that Harry, and to some extent Bill, would not want her to live continuously in despair. She promised to herself would be strong for them and for her family.

It was fifteenth of March.

Formal announcement had been made in middle February. And everyone was grieving.

Fleur was sitting alone inside her office at Beauxbaton. And as before, she wore black. She was busy grading her student's homework when all of a sudden, her phone beeped. She took it out of her handbag and noticed that a message had arrived.

It was from Hermione:-

"Call me! Stats!"

She became curious. She began to dial Hermione's number. The other side picked up once they connected but before Fleur could say anything, Hermione's voice came loudly through the speaker:-

"Fleur! You won't believe what I'm about to tell you! Harry! He's alive!"

Fleur cupped her mouth and nearly dropped her phone.

"Are you certain, 'Ermione?" she asked. Her voice trembled.

"Yes! Yes! Just got the news from Moscow this morning!" said Hermione excitedly.

"Zhey found 'im?" asked Fleur.

"No they didn't," said Hermione. "As a matter a fact, he was the one who came to them. They told me he just came bursting through the door at Kremlin and demanded that they spared him a team of aurors. They told me that he doesn't look good. They tried to get him to treatment but he flatly refused. He left half an hour after that with a team of Russian aurors in tow. They told me they were heading to Poland. I'm going there today. I'll keep you posted."

"'Ave a safe journey, 'Ermione. Please take good care of 'im."

"I will. Thank you, Fleur."

Fleur put down her phone. Without her realizing, tears fell down her cheeks. This time though, it was the tears of happiness.

But it took quite a few weeks to convince herself that she should see him. She was afraid of what his reaction would be after she unceremoniously ditched him. Her friends, after knowing the true story between her and Harry urged her to go to London. They told her that Harry won't be that cruel.

May came. It was Friday.

It was only at this time, she finally managed to muster enough courage to go to Britain. Hermione told her that Harry had returned to London two weeks ago.

She emerged out of Ministry of Magic fireplace. It was lunch time and the Ministry sprawling lobby was busy with visitors. She told Hermione that she will be coming to her office that day. Hermione agreed to wait for her right at the fireplace. As they both headed towards the DMLE office, people gawked stupidly at the beautiful girl who walked beside Hermione.

Hermione ushered her into Harry's office and told her to wait. Fleur obliged.

"Wait here," said Hermione. "Harry went out to lunch. He'll be back soon."

"Zhank you, 'Ermione."

And she waited. Her heart beat fast with every second that went past.

At half an hour past one the door opened. And Harry came in.

Fleur looked up. The moment she saw him, she immediately rushed towards Harry and gave him a tight hug. Harry replied in kind.

"What are you doing here?" asked Harry after Fleur released him.

Fleur looked up towards Harry bearded face. She noticed there was a new thin scar that ran along his left cheek. The man in front of her looked entirely different from the one she left behind a year ago. This man looked extremely battle hardened.

"I need to talk to you," answered Fleur. "You-." She suddenly paused. Her eyes travelled up and down him. "You don't 'ave your phone with you."

"No I don't. I threw it away," confessed Harry. "I have no use of it anymore."

"And my letters?"

"I burnt them."

"I see," said Fleur softly. "I 'eard what 'appened in Russia. You didn't tell me-."

"What is there to tell, Fleur?" Harry interrupted. "You did read my last letter, didn't you? I made a promise, remember? Besides, I have decided to move on."

Fleur bit her lips and looked down. A few moments later, she nodded.

Seeing Fleur remained silent, Harry said, "And I'm not someone who would willingly go back on my promise. What is it, Fleur? Why have you come here?"

Fleur sighed. "We need to talk but here may not be zhe best place."

Harry nodded. "Very well," he said. "But you need to wait. It would be a few more hours before I could get out of here."

Fleur nodded. "I'll wait."

Along the riverbank of Thames, London…

Harry finally managed to settle all of the day's work and get out of his office at a quarter before six.

They both walked along the bank of the famous River of Thames, watching boats sailing by. Nobody said anything at first. At a three point junction of the path they were walking, Fleur suddenly stopped. Her eyes were fixed on a boathouse that glides lazily nearby.

"Tell me, 'Arry. Will I regret it?" she asked.

"What? Regret? I'm not sure I understand what you are talking about," said Harry as he looked at her questionably.

"You know what I am talking about, 'Arry. Just answer zhe question. Tell me, will I regret it?"

At this point, Harry had a hunch of what Fleur meant about. It was about his proposal many months ago. He then turned his gaze towards the river and said, "I have no control over that."

Fleur cocked her eyebrows.

Without looking at her, he continued, "But I can tell these to any girl I will eventually marry. I will tell them that I can't make any regret that they might have disappear and I can't give them back all the time they wasted on me. I will tell them what I can and will do. I can love them. I can care for them. I can defend their honour and uphold their trust to the best of my abilities. And I will not abandon them. And I will always be with them until my dying breath."

Fleur smiled satisfactorily as she heard what Harry had just said. She then took Harry's hand and leaned forward to give a surprised Harry a light kiss on his lips.

"Very well zhen, Monsieur Potter," she said softly. "If zhat is zhe case, zhen my answer will be yes."

But much to her disappointment, Harry remained unconvinced. She then proceeded to tell him everything on what really happened. She told him that even though her father was behind all of these, that her decision to be with him would be hers alone. She told him that she was ready to move on. She told him that she was ready to learn to love him. She told him that everything that happened taught her to cherish whatever it was she had before she lost it forever.

"I know it will be difficult. Bill iz my first love. But I can try. I can change, 'Arry. All I'm asking from you iz forgiveness and zhe chance to prove myself. Will you give me zhat, 'Arry? Will you accept me for who I am?" she asked. Her eyes glittered as she looked deeply into his.

It took a while before Harry took her hands and gave them a gentle squeeze.

"I accept," he said.

Exactly a year ago, she left him alone at the bank of a river. This time, once again at the bank of a river, they both reunited.

And as always they would say, the rest is history.

Flashback ends...

A/n: The title of this chapter was taken from one of my favorite stories within this website. Unfortunately, the author never make any attempt to finish it for whatever reason.

This flashback ties with Chapter 8. Some of you point out that I neglected to explain why Harry accepted Fleur in the end within that chapter. Well, here's your answer. I have my own reason on why only now I choose to reveal what really happened. You'll know it as this story progress further. Oh, there will be more flashbacks in the near future.

The continuation of Chapter 36 will happen in the next chapter.