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Fleur Delacour is aloof, arrogant, and unflinching in the face of adversity.

"Good luck" Harry said hoarse from lack of use and the fear of the dragons they are about to face.

He received naught but a dismissive turn of the head as she strolled confidently into the arena to face her dragon.

As much as it hurt to be dismissed again, Harry felt emboldened by the facade of fearlessness Fleur Delacour entered a dragon's nest with.

Fleur Delacour is eternally loyal and loving of her family.

Fleur had many cuts on her face and arms and her robes were torn, but she didn't seem to care, nor would she allow Madam Pomfrey to clean them.

"Look after Gabrielle," she told her, and then she turned to Harry. "You saved 'er," she said breathlessly. "Even though she was not your 'hostage."

"Yeah," said Harry, who was now heartily wishing he'd left all three girls tied to thee statue.

Fleur bent down, kissed Harry twice on each cheek (he feels his face burn and wouldn't have been surprised if steam was coming out of his ears again). Then said to Ron, "And you too-you 'helped-"

"Yeah," said Ron, looking extremely hopeful, "yeah, a bit-"

Fleur swooped down on him too and kissed him.

Fleur Delacour is mischievous.

Harry rose from his desk tucking his charms notes away. Hermione had somehow appeared right next to Professor Flitwick, almost bouncing in place with her eagerness to continue to deepen her knowledge of the animation charms they were previously learning. Ron was out the door in a heated debate with Seamus about the Chudley Cannons position winning the Quidditch cup this year.

Harry, eager to try and squeeze some time in the air before the last lights were gone was caught completely unawares by being tugged into an alcove on his way back to the common room.

"Wha-Fleur!? What are you doing here?...Wait a minute. How are you here?" Harry exclaimed adrenaline high.

"Bonjour 'Arry" Fleur breathed with a slight smile.

The summer had come and gone since Harry saw Fleur last. They'd developed something of a friendship after the third task but Harry believed, with much chagrin, that her leaving back to France was the end of it.

Seeing her again, Harry was once again struck by how beautiful she was. Clear blue eyes framed by a picturesque face with the reddest of lips. Pale and long hair waving in the slight breeze of Hogwarts halls. The vision she made along with the surprise of being pulled in the hallway caused Harry to focus perhaps longer than was proper on her.

Her smile grew and her eyes crinkled slightly drawing Harry to the dusting of freckles he'd never noticed lay across her cheeks.

"Come 'Arry. Do you trust me?" She asked with an arm outstretched.

Harry put his hand in hers. And so began their journey.

Fleur had snuck them both out with such familiarity Harry reminded that Fleur had appeared inside Hogwarts to drag him somewhere.

"Fleur" Harry whispered.

She looked over.

"How did you get into Hogwarts?"

"I walked in" she replied as if it were obvious.

Harry wasn't sure it was obvious. But it seemed like he wouldn't be receiving any deeper answers.

His only warning was a flash of tightening in Fleur's hand and suddenly Harry was experiencing the absolutely disorientation of disapparition.

Once his stomach settled, Harry looked up to a scene stole his breath away.

They were in a meadow. Rich, tall grass filled with shades of green were contrasted with the browns, oranges, and maroons of the turning trees. The sky was a deep blue with the hint of a sunset to come.

And in the center of it all Fleur, in her pale blue summer dress, was swaying in the wind. The grass, the leaves, her dress, it seemed the world was being conducted by her freedom. The absolute calm and joy was obvious on her face even without her eyes being open.

The giggles helped too. Suddenly, Fleur's eyes flew open looking at Harry with the most intense look he'd ever seen. She began to sing. This time, it was Harry's turn to close his eyes. For tears to stream down his face. But the smile he carried was bright.

Some time later, Fleur's song had finished and Harry slowly opened his eyes. Their chests were nearly touching, standing so close that Harry could feel her breath on his face. With the greatest delicacy, she wiped a single tear from Harry's face and inspected it.

Harry knew something had changed. The smile on her face was the same as when she'd first pulled him into the alcove near the charms classroom what felt like ages ago but was only 15 minutes. Mischief.

And she tickled Harry. And Harry laughed like he didn't know he was capable of. He laughed so hard that he fell into the deep grasses and Fleur eagerly fell with him. Now sat upon his crotch she'd lost her hold on Harry's stomach and had stopped tickling him.

It took him a moment but when he looked up at Fleur, he knew he needed to do this. He leaned up, palming her cheek with one hand. When she leaned into it slightly, he moved the last couple inches to take her lips in his.

Above all, Fleur Delacour loves snuggles.

Fleur had put down her book ages ago. She was partially gazing fondly at Harry who; occasionally, would lift up her feet, place them over his lap and give them a rub, but mostly, she was reflecting on her past.

Fleur very quickly after her Veela maturity, hated her heritage. Even being a hag would be better than being bombarded by the mass of hormones she could not avoid in any given day. The feathers she hid in long blouses and the beak she never wanted to come out in her anger were just physical ways of the visceral point she always felt. She was different. Whore. Bitch. Slut. Heathen. Seductress. There was a never ending cruelty to the names people would describe her.

And then she met Harry. And her toes curled with the joy that sprang to her face when refocusing on her beau. He was everything she didn't know she needed. His complete and utter lack of interest in her heritage was the balm she needed to accept and embrace it. He'd remarked on their second date about the 'facade of fearlessness' she'd faced the dragon in the first task with. The naked awe in his voice, not of her beauty nor her heritage but of her, was entirely overwhelming for Fleur.

The tears that overcame her were when she truly started to accept herself. And Harry was the most scared she had ever seen him! The man can take on a fully grown dragon, dark lords, even basilisks but a woman tears up and he freezes up.

She'd had enough. In one well practiced motion, Fleur launched herself towards Harry, knocked his book out of the way, accio'd their comfiest blanket, and tucked herself into Harry. The blanket fell across them slowly.

The short burst of laughter from Harry vibrated through her and the warmth she felt for him somehow grew.

"Hello love. Something wrong with Cromwell's Theories on Multiple Animagus Forms?" Harry chuckled out.

The rocking of her head into his chest in denial was adorable.

"Snuggles" she whispered.

He kissed her forehead.

"Snuggles."