Harry waited for Fleur at the Hog's head, his invisibility cloak tucked securely beneath his robes. He sat at the bar, his leg bouncing on the footrest of the barstool. A tap on his shoulder nearly made him jump out of his skin, and he spun around to see a confusing hazy distortion in the air.

"Are you ready?" Fleur whispered.

Harry nodded and slid off the stool. Fleur lifted her disillusionment charm once they were inside the narrow tunnel. With a muttered, "Lumos," the passage was lit by a bright light from the tip of her wand.

"Harry," she said, her quiet voice still echoing through the passage.

Harry turned around to find Fleur beaming at him.

"I am incredibly excited about this," she said, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around him. He returned the hug, marveling inwardly at himself. He never thought he'd be so comfortable being touched, let alone squeezed so tightly.

"Are you nervous?" he asked as Fleur released him.

"A little," she admitted as they continued their walk back to the room of requirement. "I hope it is not too strange to be taking instruction from a disembodied voice."

"We will figure it out," he said confidently. "I'm not great at explaining what we need to do, you'll be a big help."

"I hope so."

Harry stepped through the opening to the room of requirement, offering Fleur his hand to help her down the step.

"It is oddly difficult when you cannot see your own feet," she grumbled.

"It is," Harry agreed, leading the way over to Ron and Hermione. A fourth chair had been added to the trio, its cushion compressing slightly as Fleur sat down.

"Hello," she said. Harry heard a rustle of fabric and suppressed a grin, sure she had waved.

"I'm glad you could make it," said Hermione.

"I am glad I will be able to help," Fleur replied. There was a pause, and Harry heard another rustle of fabric. "I am glad to finally meet you, Ron," she said. "I am sorry it cannot be under more...normal circumstances."

"Well, it's not your fault, is it?" Ron said. "We'll figure something out. Especially if you're going to be around for a while."

"We will," she said warmly, before switching to a lecturing tone. "Harry has told me what you have been working on, and what Dumbledore has in mind for your progress with the stunner. We were thinking that I could help you understand what it means to understand a spell in such a way that you can cast it non-verbally. I currently have two spells I am able to cast without speaking them."

"Two?" Harry said surprised. "I thought it was just the bubble-head charm."

"I have learned another," she said, and Harry could hear the grin in her voice. "Fortunately, it is the very spell you are working on. It was one of the things I was practicing last year between the second and third tasks, though I had not quite managed it by the time the task was upon us. I have spent my free time during these last few months continuing to work towards my goal. I am not able to do it every time, but if I am not distracted, I can cast it consistently."

"Oh wow," Hermione breathed. "I've been trying for ages and haven't managed a single one."

"You have?" Ron asked, surprised.

"Of course I have, Ron. Though I think I'm starting to understand why it wasn't working."

"I am sure you are," Fleur said, "and you are likely correct. Familiarity with the spell is a requirement. Shall we get started?"

Harry was unsurprised to find Fleur a tough taskmistress, though her explanations were far and away better than his own, and he felt some of the burden of responsibility lift from his shoulders.

"Ron," Fleur interrupted as another target went sailing into a wall and was smashed to bits. "Your focus is excellent, which is making your spells powerful, but you also need to be sure you are feeling the spell. Try casting a little slower for now, and examine how it feels."

Ron nodded in the general direction of Fleur's voice and did as instructed.

"I'm glad you're here," Harry said quietly to Fleur. Or at least where he was pretty sure she was standing. "I never would have caught that."

"I am just glad to be able to help," she said from his other side, making him jump. "Sorry!" she said with a small laugh. "Besides, being completely invisible is a little fun."

Harry laughed and rejoined Ron and Hermione in the practice, easily getting lost in the excitement of working alongside his friends.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

"She's very good at teaching," Hermione said, looking over to where Ron stood a little ways off talking to Fleur privately. Harry had to suppress a grin as Ron gestured with his hands, seeming to be holding a conversation all on his own.

"She is," Harry agreed. "I feel like we'll be able to learn much faster now."

"I wonder what they're talking about?" Hermione mused, her eyes focused solidly on Ron.

"Dunno," Harry shrugged. "He just asked to talk to her before she left."

Before Hermione could reply, Ron turned and walked over to where they were standing.

"Are you ready, Harry?" Fleur asked from somewhere next to Ron, her voice a touch flustered. Harry wished he could see her face to find out what was wrong.

"Sure," he said, stepping towards the passage opening.

"Thank you for all your help, Fleur," Hermione said, waving as she and Ron walked towards the door. "I'm looking forward to next time!"

"As am I! See you then!"

"See you then...or rather...you know what I mean," Hermione said, stepping out into the hall with one last wave.

Once they were alone, Fleur pulled off the invisibility cloak. She pulled her hair from where it clung, offering the cloak back to Harry.

"It was nice to finally meet Ron properly," she said, her voice echoing down the long tunnel.

"I'm glad you could," Harry said quietly. "It was nice...even though we were working hard, I really enjoyed myself. For once I didn't have to hide anything from anyone around me. It felt good."

Fleur smiled at Harry's back, simple appreciation suffusing her sense of him.

"I am happy for you," Fleur replied, her voice subdued. "More than you would probably believe. You have great friends."

"I do," Harry said simply.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

"So what did you two talk about?" Hermione blurted as she and Ron rode a set of the moving stairs.

"I'm surprised it took you so long," Ron said, grinning.

Hermione's face turned pink and she looked down at the steps at her feet.

"I asked what I could do so that she didn't have to keep coming under the invisibility cloak."

"Well, I could have answered that, Ron," Hermione said, turning to look at him.

"Yes, well, Occlumency or just sheer willpower to get used to it both seem pretty daunting, but I'll have to give it a try," he said. "But that wasn't all...I wanted to thank her in person...you know?"

Hermione nodded, her nearly disastrous conversation with her new friend making her wince internally.

"I told her I wanted to get off on the right foot. Since she's so important to Harry, I told her I figured we'd be seeing a lot of each other...so to speak."

"What'd she say to that?" Hermione asked with a laugh.

"Er, nothing, actually," Ron replied, scratching the side of his nose. "She just told me she had to leave."

Hermione didn't say anything in reply and instead ruminated on one of her oldest friends, and her newest, all the way back to Gryffindor tower.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

As Christmas drew nearer, Harry began to obsess over what to get Fleur's family. He was reasonably confident Fleur would at least enjoy her gift, but what could he possibly get for the people who had taken him in and treated him so well?

His torment was finally ended by another letter from Gabrielle just a week before the holidays began.

Harry,

I have been thinking about gifts. Maman has mentioned cooking with you many times. Fleur and I do not much like to cook, so anything that would help her cook is something she would like.

Papa is not very hard to shop for, no matter what Fleur says. He is telling the truth when he says that he will like what you get him. He likes that you thought of him, more than he likes the gift.

I have had some extra time this year, and have already read through my small collection of books. I would really like some more to read.

Whatever you got Fleur, I am sure she will love it!

See you at Christmas! I cannot wait!

-Gabrielle

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

The final week before the Christmas holiday, Hogwarts was full of energy and cheer, and for Harry Potter, alternating bouts of extreme anxiety and over-the-moon excitement. He'd managed to work himself into such a frenzy, that he'd been completely unable to form a normal sentence when Hermione had cornered him in a nearly deserted hall and asked him what he was so worked up about.

"I get to go back, but it's been a while. What am I supposed to do? Are there different customs? How-?" He explained as he paced, clearly outlining his varied worries.

"Harry!" Hermione almost shouted, her hands out as though to catch him were he to fall. "It's okay," she soothed. "Harry, everything will be fine. Didn't you have a good time there over the summer, even with everything else that happened?"

Harry nodded, clamping his mouth shut lest more nonsense fall out.

"I'm sure they're going to be happy to have you back. Why are you so worried about it?"

His jaw worked as he tried to form words to explain his thoughts.

"It's….it's my first Christmas," he whispered, the words coming unbidden through the turmoil still rolling through him. "My first real one."

Hermione froze as she watched Harry's manic energy collapse into his old introspective ways.

"Well," she said slowly, suddenly feeling the magnitude with which her words would be received. She was reminded uncomfortably of her failure to comfort him after the second task. "Can you think of a better way to spend any Christmas? Not to mention your first one?" she asked, trying to keep her own anxiety from her voice. She would help him this time.

Harry slowly shook his head.

"No," he said finally. "Not really. I don't know why I'm so worked up about it."

He gave her a smile that helped set her at ease for a moment before she saw that it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"It's okay if you are," she reassured him. "It's a big deal. It's normal to be worked up about things like that."

Harry nodded again, this time offering a smaller, but much more genuine smile in return.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

A chilly December day marked the beginning of the Christmas holidays, light snow dusting the large group of students waiting for the Express at Hogsmeade Station. Harry stood a few steps in front of Ron and Hermione, who watched their friend nearly vibrate with excitement as they waited for the Express to open its doors. Hermione smiled fondly at Harry's back, though she couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness that he hadn't gotten a proper Christmas until he was fifteen. Ron, on the other hand, grinned openly at his friend, who would occasionally glance back and offer a smile in return.

"Excited to go to her flat, I bet," Ron whispered, his grin growing wider.

"Ron!" Hermione whispered back, swatting him on the arm. "We've talked about this! You leave him alone if something like that does happen. You know how hard it is for him to open up! Don't you dare mess that up for him."

"Okay, okay!" Ron said quickly, raising his hands in surrender. "I was just joking. You know I wouldn't try to get in the way."

Hermione only glared at Ron as the Express sounded its whistle and the doors slid open. They quickly found an empty cabin and took their usual seats. Harry placed his small bag on the overhead rack, checking inside for what must've been the hundredth time to be sure he'd packed all the Christmas gifts he'd gotten for everyone. Satisfied, he dropped down onto the seat next to Ron.

Before any of them could say anything, the cabin door slid open to reveal Luna clutching a copy of the most recent Quibbler tight to her chest.

"May I join you?" she asked, her hand still on the door. "I was asked to leave my first cabin, and you didn't mind riding up to the castle with me."

"Of course," Harry said, gesturing to the open space next to Hermione.

Hermione scooted to the side to allow the younger girl plenty of room to sit. Luna sat down and lifted her copy of The Quibbler.

"Would any of you like to read it? There's a rather good article about the Minister's vacation being a cover for a diplomatic trip to a nearby nest of vampires."

"Fudge doesn't really seem the type to want to talk to vampires," Harry said. "At least to me."

Luna fixed him with a gaze of such unusual intensity that it almost made him sit back in shock. She seemed to reach some internal decision, and her demeanor again became relaxed and airy.

"Yes," she said, "I expect you would have met with the Minister. He seems like the type of person who would think your labels are what's important."

The whistle sounded, and the train lurched as it began its journey back to King's Cross.

"So what are you doing for Christmas, Luna?" Hermione asked.

"Daddy and I celebrate Yule, though he does let me put up a Christmas tree," Luna answered, smiling a little dreamily. "I like to collect little animated ornaments. He gets me one as a gift every year."

"That sounds really nice," Hermione said. A look of surprise dawned on her face, and she turned to Ron. "I can't believe I've never asked, but does your family have any special Christmas traditions?"

Ron shrugged. "If you count being civil to each other a tradition, then yeah. Christmas means a lot to Mum since it's pretty much the only time the whole family is together, so everyone tries to tone it down a bit for her. Even Percy is more tolerable at Christmastime."

The snowfall grew heavier as they traveled, the countryside a nearly invisible through the snowstorm. They talked about their upcoming holiday plans, after which Harry was invited to both the Grangers and the Weasley's homes to visit. Luna even offered her home as well, though she did qualify that she'd have to ask her father first. He made a mental note to ask Sirius what their plans were beyond visiting with Fleur's family.

In the middle of the warm cabin, with snow falling quietly outside and the comfortable hum of conversation around him, Harry felt his contentment slide away, and his thoughts began to fall apart before they could form. Just months prior he had sat on the exact same train and told his two closest friends a secret he had kept his entire life. Less than a month before that, he had finally been freed from life with his relatives. How was it possible in such a short amount of time to go from such misery, to anxiously awaiting Christmas with loved ones? He wasn't sure if he wanted to start laughing at the situation, or burst into tears. He settled for silence instead, opting to listen to his friends chat and Luna interject with small comments that always seemed to perplex Hermione into momentary silence.

He still felt off-kilter as the train slowed to a stop at King's Cross. The four of them stood, Harry, grabbing his small bag, and joined the slowly moving crowd as they disembarked the train. The palpable excitement of the other students on the train helped to distract him from his thoughts, as did his first glimpse of Sirius, who was standing next to the Weasleys, waving like a madman.

"I see my Dad," Luna said as they stepped off the train. "Have a happy Christmas."

"Happy Yule, Luna," Harry said. "See you when school starts again?"

Luna stopped, turning to Harry, her head cocked slightly to the side. After a moment, she smiled. "I would like that very much. Happy Christmas Hermione, Ron." Without waiting for a reply, she turned on her heel and skipped through the crowd towards a man wearing vibrant purple robes who had hair the same sunny blond as Luna.

"Good to see you, Harry!" Mr. Weasley greeted them. "You too, Hermione!"

Harry opened his mouth to reply but was swept into one of Mrs. Weasley's hugs.

"Oh it's so good to see you, dear," she said as she gave him a squeeze, oblivious to the stiffening of his spine.

"You too, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said after she let go.

"And we'll be seeing the both of you sometime this holiday?" Mr. Weasley asked, looking between Harry and Sirius.

"You can count on it," Sirius said. "We've got a couple of weeks. I'm sure we can find the time somewhere in there."

"Bill and Charlie will be there until just after the first," Mrs. Weasley said. "Hopefully you can stop by before then."

"You've got it, Molly," Sirius said. "Ready, Harry?"

Harry nodded, pins and needles running down his arms and legs as what he was sure was a goofy grin suddenly plastered itself on his face. It was happening. He was about to leave for the Christmas holiday with his godfather.

"Have fun mate," Ron said, grinning back at Harry. "See you soon."

Hermione returned Harry's grin fondly as well.

"I'll see you when school starts again," she said. "Happy Christmas, Harry."

Harry waved his reply to the chorus of 'Happy Christmas' that followed Hermione's as Sirius placed a hand on his shoulder and turned on the spot, pulling them both into the momentary crushing blackness.

An instant later, Sirius and Harry appeared in the empty living room of Grimmauld Place. Harry blinked away the momentary disorientation and looked around at the room.

"Well, Harry," Sirius said, looking down with a nervous grin on his face. "Welcome to my home."

Harry slowly turned to look at all parts of the large room. Everything he looked at seemed to be spotless and perfectly put in its place. Bookshelves filled with books, all aligned and catalogued perfectly. Each picture that hung on the wall was spotless, each frame perfectly level to the floor. The only part of the room that looked lived in was one of two large lounge chairs in front of the fireplace. Between them sat a small side table, an empty glass and a folded copy of the Daily Prophet sitting on top.

"It's nice," Harry said honestly. "Kinda...dark though."

"Well, it is a townhouse. Not a lot of real-estate for windows. Come on, I'll show you to your room."

Harry followed Sirius out of the room and up a surprisingly long stairwell to the second floor. A long hall lay at the top, another set of stairs at the end.

"How many floors are there?" asked Harry.

"Five," Sirius answered. "The house from the outside looks like it has just two though. I've taken to sleeping on the second floor, even though the room I slept in when I was younger is on the fourth floor. I'm not quite an old man yet, but climbing up and down four flights of stairs a couple of times a day sure makes me wonder.

"Here we are, last on the left is all you, though you're welcome to just about any room you want. Mine is the first on the left, and the privy is across from my room. The room between ours is a guest room, and the one on the right side of the hall is the library. You can look in there if you want just...be cautious. We Blacks have amassed quite the collection of dodgy literature over the centuries."

"Like that book you lent me?" Harry asked, suddenly wishing he'd thought to bring it along.

"Oh that's a children's book compared to some of the stuff in there," Sirius said with a quick laugh. He swung open the door to reveal a somewhat sparse room, weak winter sunlight filtering through sheer drapes on the right-hand wall. A bed slightly larger than the one he'd had at the Delacour's sat directly across from the window, a nightstand on the far side, and against the wall opposite the door was a bureau of drawers

"You can put your clothes in there," Sirius said, pointing. "Though…" he faltered, looking down at the relatively small bag in Harry's hand. "It doesn't seem like you brought very many."

"These are the ones I like," he said, shrugging self-consciously.

"Well, we could go get you some more," Sirius said, rubbing at the stubble on his chin. "But not until after the holiday. It'd be a nightmare for the two of us to try and go out in a crowd like that.

"Anyway, get comfortable and join me down in the sitting room. I want to hear all about your year so far."

After dropping his clothes into a drawer, he set his handful of wrapped Christmas gifts atop the bureau and quickly went downstairs to join Sirius.

He found his godfather sitting in one of two lounge chairs in front of a roaring fire, one leg crossed over the other, his foot bouncing quickly in the air. Harry sat in the vacant seat, sighing as the comforting warmth of the flames washed over him. Silence stretched between them, the crackle of the fire and the occasional pop of a log the only sounds filling the room.

"This is...a little weird...isn't it," Sirius said, the orange light of the fire casting sharp shadows across his face, though Harry noticed it wasn't quite as sunken in anymore. Nor as haunted.

"A little," Harry answered, voicing the odd feeling he'd had since sitting on the Express. "It doesn't really seem real. Even though I'm sitting here, and can feel the fire and everything. It still seems fake."

"Exactly," Sirius said, all his breath escaping with the word. "Who'd have thought that we'd end up here? The two of us, having a normal Christmas with friends. It seems impossible."

"I think..." Harry said slowly, his gaze sliding from his godfather and back to the fire. "I think it's like you said. It takes a while to hit you."

"Has...the other stuff hit you yet?" Sirius asked.

"I think so," Harry said, nodding. "I think that's why everything seems so strange. Sirius, I hadn't thought about them in weeks. It wasn't until Christmas was getting closer that I'd start to try and make plans about what to do while staying at school before I remembered that I was coming here."

Sirius turned to face Harry and grinned.

"We're made from sturdy stuff, you and I," he said. "So go on, tell me about your year. I've noticed a significant lack of danger in your letters."

Harry laughed and told Sirius of his first few months back to Hogwarts, being sure to include Umbridge's strange behavior and her new 'club'.

"I don't like the way that sounds," Sirius grumbled.

"Fleur said the same thing."

"How is she, by the way?" Sirius asked. "Busy at the Ministry?"

"She's good. Getting used to living on her own. I'm going to go see her apartment for the first time on Christmas Eve."

"Are you now?" Sirius asked, turning to face Harry, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Er...yes?" Harry replied, matching Sirius' surprise with a confused frown.

Sirius just smiled at Harry, whose eyes finally widened in realization.

"If...if that's okay," he said.

"It's fine," Sirius said, nodding. "You're fifteen Harry. I'm not going to try and police every little movement you make, but I do need to know where you're going and when. That's all. What will you two be doing?"

"Exchanging gifts, and making dinner," Harry explained. "She wants to have a small Christmas at her new place before the real deal the next day at her parents."

"Sounds fun," Sirius said, though Harry thought he could detect a falsity to the slightly disinterested tone Sirius had used.

"What?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes at his godfather.

"I'm just saying, it sounds...you know," Sirius gesticulated vaguely in the air for a moment before letting his hands drop at Harry's continued perplexed gaze. "Listen, did you bring something nice to wear at least?"

"The clothes I brought are nice," Harry answered slowly. "There are ones she said she likes, so I figured I'd wear those."

"Well, it sounds important to her, so you should dress up a bit. Nothing crazy, but something that looks nice. We'll probably want to look good when we go to the Delacour's as well…" he trailed off, a resigned set to his features.

"You said we couldn't go shopping," Harry said, "so what do we do?"

"Well I've got clothes here, but for you...Kreacher!"

To Harry's utter surprise, a house-elf appeared in front of them making rude gestures at Sirius with its small hands. It paused as its large eyes caught sight of Harry, and they narrowed suspiciously at him.

"Master has kidnapped someone," the house-elf croaked. "Kreacher should report to the authorities. Then master can return to his home in Azkaban."

"He's not kidnapped," Sirius barked. "Don't go anywhere. This is Harry, and he'll be staying with us for a few weeks. You are to treat him with due respect and carry out any request he makes of you. And properly too, none of your funny interpretations."

"Kreacher always follows master's commands," the house-elf said, slowly turning its bulbous eyes back to Sirius.

"Then listen up. Harry needs some nice clothes. I know you're able to pick out ones that look good, so I need you to go pick up a few. Get ones with tailoring charms so you don't have to worry about sizes. If you do this well, and to the best of your ability...you can have something from Regulus' room."

Kreacher's eyes went wide, and he disappeared without a sound.

"Sirius you don't have to-"

"Get used to it," Sirius said. "Once I'm able to claim guardianship it will actually be my responsibility to feed and clothe you, so just consider this a head start."

"Who's Regulus?" Harry asked instead of protesting. He could see Sirius wasn't about to budge on the subject.

"My brother," Sirius explained. "He was a death eater and died in the first war. He was also the only one Kreacher ever liked besides my mother. Letting him have some of Regulus' things helps keep him in line when I really need him to do what I ask."

Sirius gave Harry a brief history of his family, the conversation easily continuing through dinner as they caught up and learned more about one another. Sirius regaled Harry with more stories of James both during and after Hogwarts. Harry, in turn, told Sirius of the finer details of his first two years at Hogwarts, and less-than-usual extracurricular activities. Not long after, Kreacher returned with four different outfits, and to Harry's surprise, he liked every single one. With promises of showing Sirius what he looked like in the clothes the following day, they finally parted, each going to their respective bedrooms with an awkward wave down the hall and shouted 'goodnights'.

Harry lay awake far into the night, the unfamiliar sounds of Sirius' home occasionally making him jump, startling him out of the contemplative half-sleep he would fall into. He felt his body finally begin to relax as his mind drifted to the coming Christmases, and how nice it would be to spend more time around Sirius and the Delacours and he was soon deep asleep.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Christmas Eve seemed both just around the corner and years away while Harry familiarized himself with the Black family home. He pleasantly surprised Sirius with his cooking abilities and conscripted his godfather to be the taste tester for his Christmas Eve dinner. A couple of hours and one prototype dinner later, Harry got the thumbs up from a very satisfied Sirius and finally laid one of his worries to rest. Mostly anyway.

"Don't stay out too late," Sirius said, casting an approving gaze across Harry's choice of dress. His smile became a little softer as his eyes reached the top of Harry's head, his untidy hair sticking up at the back. "But be sure to have fun."

"I will," Harry replied, tugging at the collar of his blue button-up.

"Here, don't do up the top button unless you're wearing a tie," Sirius said, stepping forward and popping open the button at Harry's neck. "No need to be uncomfortable unless you have to be.

"Got everything?" Sirius asked, looking over to the kitchen table where Harry had prepared the necessary ingredients for dinner into a large bag, with Fleur's small wrapped gift sitting in front.

"I think so," said Harry. He stepped over, and dug through the bag, once again going through his mental recipe. "Yeah, it's all here."

"Well, you'd better not keep a lady waiting," Sirius said, ushering Harry back into the living room.

Harry nodded and grabbed a handful of Floo powder with his free hand.

"Back by two?" Sirius asked.

"Two?" Harry spluttered. "Sirius, it's only six in the evening."

"One o'clock?" Sirius countered, laughing. "Just don't stay out too late. I'll trust you until you give me reason not to. But please, before two. I'm old. I get tired."

Harry waved goodbye with his clenched fist of Floo powder before tossing it into the roaring flames.

"Fleur's apartment," Harry said loudly as he stepped into the green fire, and vanished.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

As the disorienting spinning stopped, Harry stumbled out of the floo to feel a warm pair of arms wrap around his shoulders.

"I have seen you trip your way through the floo at my parent's house often enough to know you could use a hand," Fleur teased, helping him to his feet. She let go and stepped back. "Welcome to my home!"

As Harry straightened, the green glow of the flames died back to a soft orange. A log popped loudly, spitting sparks and a faint wisp of smoke to mingle with the pleasant smell of cinnamon. His eye was immediately drawn to her Christmas tree, it's length decorated with small shining ornaments, silver tinsel, and warm lights. At the top sat a twinkling star, just barely leaning to one side. He set down his bag of dinner ingredients and stepped forward, bending down to place Fleur's gift alongside the single wrapped package sitting beneath.

He stood up looked out the large window sitting above a familiar desk, the faint lights of Paris twinkling in the distance. The wooden frame was wrapped in tinsel to match the tree, lights buried inside reflecting off the edge of the frosted glass. As he turned, he caught a glimpse of Fleur's blanket he had gotten her folded atop a grey couch, but his attention was immediately captured by Fleur, who stood in front of the fireplace, her long hair bunched in her hands, an excited grin below her bright blue eyes.

He felt his eyes widen involuntarily as he said a silent 'thank you' to Sirius for insisting he get some more presentable clothes. Instead of her usual loungewear of loose, comfortable clothes, she wore a winter-themed dress with thin straps wrapping over top of her shoulders, the icy blue fabric a near match for her eyes. Spread out like a gale across the dress were small intricate snowflakes, each one, as far as Harry could tell without staring too closely, was unique.

In the year it had been since the Yule Ball, it had been impossible for him to forget how attractive she looked in anything remotely form-fitting, but he was positive he'd forgotten the way she had absolutely stunned him. Surely he hadn't been quite so tongue-tied back then as well. He fought mightily to keep from gaping, knowing she didn't appreciate comments on her appearance.

"How do I look?" she asked, startling him from his thoughts. She twirled on the spot, her hair continuing its momentum and wrapping itself lightly around her front. She ran a hand across the side of her face, tucking the stray hairs behind her ear. He stared at her reddening face, coherent thought deserting him.

"A-amazing," he finally managed. "I like the snowflakes."

"Thank you." A shy smile crept across her features, making his heart begin to thunder in his ears. She visibly mastered herself, her eyes locking on his. "I am hungry, and looking forward to what you're going to make," she said, glancing down at the bag Harry had completely forgotten about, "but can we exchange gifts first? That has always been my favorite part."

She looked at him hopefully, barely contained excitement causing her to bounce on the balls of her feet.

"Of course," he said, "but we'll need to get the hens into some cold."

Before he'd even finished speaking, Fleur had grabbed the bag and almost run from the room, returning moments later, her eyes wide and expectant. He glanced over to the boxes resting under the tree and tried to swallow down the nervousness suddenly growing inside of him.

She walked purposefully over to the tree, and bent at the knee, reaching under the tree for the gifts. The lights of the tree acted as the sun had done during their long walks in the woods, wreathing her in a warm light that shimmered and reflected across her silvery hair which was draped across her bare back.

As she stood, she again tucked her hair behind an ear as she straightened, the action prompting a hopeful smile to Harry's face. She held out her gift to him and took a seat on the sofa.

Harry dropped down next to her and examined the wrapped box in his hand.

"I cannot wait to see what you have gotten me," she said, shaking her gift gently next to her ear. "Especially since you have known for so long," she added with a grin.

"I just hope you'll like it," Harry said.

"I am sure I will," she replied, "but you open yours first. The suspense is going to kill me. It took me forever to figure out what to get you."

Harry nodded and held his gift up to his ear as she had done as well, jumping when Fleur's hands reached out towards him.

"Ah, do not shake it! It is fragile," she said, her playful tones replaced with mild panic.

Harry gently lowered the box to his lap and began pulling off the glossy green wrapping paper to expose a cardboard box. He opened it and gently removed a rectangle wrapped in thin paper. He slowly ripped apart the wrapping, a smile pulling at his lips when an anxious squeak issued from Fleur, causing her to blush a deep crimson. As the last layer came off, he found himself holding a picture frame, the back facing up. He turned it over and froze in shock as he saw the scene playing out in front of him.

Inside the picture frame sat a vibrant photo of her clearing in the woods, the familiar rocks laid out just as he remembered them. A breeze blew through the trees, their branches letting a few leaves fall to be carried away by the invisible wind. From the edge of the frame, two figures came walking into the clearing, one with long silver hair, the other with dark messy hair and glasses.

He gaped at the picture for a moment before finding his words.

"Someone...took a picture?" he asked, torn between pleasure at having such a tangible memory, and disappointment at the intrusion to their space that he had known nothing about.

"It is a memory," she explained. "My memory, of one of our last times to that place."

"I remember," he whispered, running a thumb along the edge of the wooden frame.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

"I love it," he said, his eyes still glued to the picture. "I don't have any pictures…"

"Then I will be sure to get you more," she said, her voice gentle and quiet.

He looked up at her as she spoke and again felt his throat constrict over his words. The same beautiful face he had seen for the entire summer looked back at him, but it was somehow...different.

"Your turn," he said, nodding to the unopened box still held in her hand.

His heart hammered in his chest as Fleur began to unwrap his gift. He stared at her as she tore at the paper, her eyes fixed on the small box. He saw the joy in her eyes, and a playful grin that began to pull at her lips as she tossed the paper to the side, the small white box held delicately in one hand. She looked up at him and tilted her head slightly to the side.

"You do not need to be so nervous, Harry," she said, lifting the lid off the box. "I am sure I will like whatever-"

Her words halted as she stared down at a silky white ribbon resting inside the box. She carefully lifted the fabric, holding it up to the firelight to admire the leafy designs embroidered along both edges. She turned it over in her hand, and let out a small noise of surprise as the ribbon slowly shifted to a bright, sunny yellow, the color spilling down the length like ink in water.

"It is beautiful," she breathed, turning it over in her hands.

"I had the idea to get it for you over the summer," he explained, his pulse slowly returning to normal. "I saw you wear so many different colors so often that I thought you might like one where you can choose. You've only got to concentrate, and it will change to whatever color you want."

He watched as the bright yellow gave way to emerald green, settling finally on a dark blue.

"If you tap it with your wand, it'll stay that color, otherwise it'll shift with your moods, which I thought was kind of neat-"

"It is wonderful," she said, her slightly watery blue eyes fixed on his own, halting his rambling before he could go any further

Another shift caught his attention, the deep blue blooming into a soft lavender, the color slowly making its way to each end. Fleur followed his gaze down, freezing as she stared at the new color. He stared at her as she sat, barely breathing as she held the ribbon in slightly trembling hands. After a few silent moments, she smiled fondly at the gift, before lifting it to tie into her hair.

"Lavender is perfect," she whispered, her hands working the ribbon delicately through her silvery hair, instead of simply tying it around her head as usual. Harry stared in awe as she finished, pulling her hair over her shoulder. It was worked into a long loose braid, the lavender ribbon woven in throughout.

"You have to tap it to get it to stay," he said, once he'd regained his voice.

"It will not change."