(Author's Note:)

Hello guys, gals and non-binary pals! Welcome back to the second installment of "Fuck it, I'm in." As some of you might have noticed, the title of this story has been changed to "Sod it, I'm in", this is only as a precaution as I've been informed by Guamexican in a review that FanFiction has a policy concerning cursing in the title and/or description. But I shall still refer to the title as "Fuck it, I'm in" in the story.

THANK YOU ALL SO FREAKING MUCH for all the support, follows, favs and reviews on the first chapter. I didn't know if anyone would actually read it, a fear that lingers in the back of my mind every time I post a new story.

I wanna give a shoutout/thanks to the kind folks over on the Harry x Fleur discord for their support!

Concerning the voting for my next Harry Potter one-shot/short story at the end of last chapter, Option 2: Harry x Fleur OOTP AU, Professor Fleur teaching Harry Occlumency won by a rather large margin. And as it was my favorite idea, I couldn't be happier. I've recently just started rereading OOTP to get ideas for the story. No date for a release, unfortunately, as those of you who follow me know that I am a rather slow worker and I tend to plan things to the nth degree. I'll jot down some rough chapter/story plans after this short story ends, as I have several other projects currently ongoing right now. Check out my FF Profile for my stories.

Anyway, that's enough for now. I'll see all you wonderful people at the bottom.

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"Fuck it, I'm in"

Chapter 2: Wait, where the hell are we going anyway?

Waking up suddenly, Harry Potter's first thought was; 'bloody hell, I feel like shit.'

His head was pounding like he took a few dozen bludgers to his skull and the light streaming in through the gaps in the curtains were assaulting his eyes nearly as bad as seeing Aunt Petunia in her dressing gown.

His second thought; 'those aren't my curtains.'

You can guess his third; 'where in Merlin's saggy—'

But a voice from the doorway interrupted his thought, "I was wondering if you were ever going to wake up."

Looking through blurry eyes, Harry found none other than Fleur Delacour standing in the doorway. She was adorned in an Acromantula silk and lace nightgown Harry assumed wouldn't look out of place in an eighteenth-century period piece.

It was fairly modest as far as nightgowns went, but Fleur was the kind of woman who could wear a burlap sack and pull it off. Suffice it to say, but Harry's hungover mind completely stalled upon seeing her.

"I 'ope you don't mind 'aving eggs for breakfast, I woke up 'zis morning craving 'zem." She glided into the room carrying two ornate cups. "I took 'ze liberty of preparing you an old 'angover potion family recipe, it should 'elp."

She stopped at the bedside and kindly offered the drink. Harry took it without much thought. "...Uh, thanks."

As Harry took his first hesitant sip of the drink, Fleur chose that moment to speak up, "Breakfast should be ready by 'ze time you get out of 'ze shower," her delicate nose scrunched and her lips did a very good impression of Professor McGonagall's. "No offence, but you smell like stinksap."

Harry nearly spit up his drink. He blinked, looking up to her like an idiot. She sipped her own drink with all the grace of a noblewoman, like this situation wasn't anything out of the ordinary for them.

The problem: it was.

Harry felt himself blink, once, then twice, then again. "Um… not to sound like an arse, but, uh,… what's going on?"

She sipped her drink again, taking her sweet time as she brought the cup to meet her lips with both hands, barely visible from the large lace sleeves of her nightgown. After taking another sip, she finally seemed fit to answer,

"I 'zought 'zat obvious," one delicate eyebrow rose, "I'm offering you breakfast, on 'ze condition 'zat you shower first. You may be a good friend of mine, 'arry, but I could not stomach my food with 'ze sweaty smell of you filling my nostrils."

Harry blinked again. She took another miniscule sip.

The slight peak at the corner of her mouth was the only indication at first that she was joking.

A second later she rolled her eyes and her face broke into a smile, her cup went to rest in her hands against her flat stomach. "Come on now, 'arry, 'ze food will be done soon, and I believe I am correct to assume 'zat you are hungry after a night of such heavy drinking?"

She kindly took the cup from his motionless hands and placed it on the bedside table. "If you wish to eat 'zis morning, 'zen I would suggest you get up."

Harry's mind was still fighting through a hangover fog. He sat up in the bed, careful to not make his head throb anymore. Pausing a brief second, he took a moment to absorb his surroundings. He looked to be in a guest room based on the furnishings, not Fleur's. Harry had one distinct thought on that matter. But he had to make sure.

"...Um, Fleur? C-can I ask you something?"

"I believe you just did." Was her witty response.

"Did we, uh,..." he ran a hand through his disheveled hair, slightly embarrassed and unsure of how to phrase this, "did we um, y'know—"

"'ave sex?"

Harry nearly choked.

His face went red without his permission, like he was still a fourth year with a silly crush. "W-w-w-well, I-I uh, yeah." Came his articulated response. Smooth, Potter.

"No, we did not." Said Fleur simply.

"Oh."

"You needn't sound so disappointed," she held her cup with one hand, planting the other on her hip. "While we may 'ave been very drunk, and while it may have been very fun…" The teasing smile falling off her lips momentarily, replaced by an uneasy one "...I do not 'zink I am ready to be with another man yet."

She turned her head slightly to avoid his gaze, taking up interest in the bookshelf along the far wall. "...And while we might 'ave enjoyed it in 'ze moment, I'm glad we didn't." Her face became slightly harder and somewhat fierce, her blue eyes scanning his.

"If you came home with me last night expecting to sleep toge'zer, 'zen I—"

"No-no-no!" Harry cut her off before she could utter whatever horrible retaliation she had in mind. "That's not it at all!"

She prompted him to speak with a minute gesture of her cup.

"To be honest," he let out a long sigh, "I'm happy that we didn't have sex. I didn't want to sleep with you, that's not why I came home with you."

Her questioning gaze indicated for him to continue. "I don't think I'm ready either, y'know. The only girl I was ever with was Ginny and I—" He cut himself off, not knowing why he was saying this to Fleur of all people. They were never that close before, despite her being married to Bill for a time. So why was he almost spilling his guts out to her?

"I'm just not ready." He repeated himself. "So I'm glad that we didn't have sex."

"You do know how to make a girl feel special," Fleur surprised him with a grin, giving him a look of understanding the moment after. "But I appreciate 'ze honesty, as well as 'ze restraint." She sent him an unreadable smirk. "And I'm impressed, not many men could say 'zat 'zey do not want to 'ave sex wi'z me to my face and mean it."

"Now, come on," she gestured for him to get up. He did. "It really is about time we get started on our day. Take a quick shower and I'll meet you downstairs in 'ze dining room. 'Ze guest bathroom is 'ze second door on 'ze left. I already prepared you a set of fresh clo'z'es."

Following her to the door, Harry—with his mind finally fully functioning— noticed for the first time that her French knickers were visible through the back of her nightgown, most likely unknowingly. Harry sharply averted his gaze, praying that his reddening ears returned to normal before she looked at him again.

It's not that he didn't enjoy the view, of course, he was just trying to keep his mind off romance and feelings and basically all emotions at the moment. They were a distraction and he needed to keep himself focused on his work. But they were also a not so happy reminder of his failed relationship with Ginny.

And besides, he didn't think Fleur would appreciate him looking at her like that. She was a good friend, like Hermione or Luna. It didn't matter what she looked like at the end of the day. Not that he ever looked at Hermione or Luna like that anyway… but whatever.

Shaking any unwanted thoughts away, Harry found and entered the guest bathroom.

~o~o~o~

A brief shower later, and dressed in the loaned clothes courtesy of Fleur, Harry found himself drawn to the intoxicating aroma of frying eggs and fresh bread and the sound of sizzling bacon wafting from the kitchen.

He had only reached the bottom of the stairs when he caught sight of her.

She was dressed now, no small feat considering he took a rather brisk shower and she still had to finish preparing breakfast.

Gone were the blue Beauxbatons robes he first saw her in, or the simple skirts or dresses he often saw her in while she was with Bill. This morning she decided to wear a light blue blouse with long sleeves and a pair of comfortable dark blue jeans. It was by far the most casual, and average Harry had ever seen her. Not that she didn't radiate with beauty like she normally did, it was just more understated— with her hair back in a simple ponytail— than he ever imagined he'd see her.

A part of him feared that he had overstepped some sort of unspoken boundary. Like seeing her in such a natural, domestic setting was worthy of punishment.

As if sensing his presence, she turned around from the stove and greeted him with a dazzling smile. "Ah, I 'zought 'ze smell of a good 'ome cooked meal would get your attention." She gave an intricate flourish of her wand and the platter of eggs, sausages and bacon floated to the table as the cutlery set themselves. "Come now, don't be shy, dig in, we 'ave a big day a'ead of us."

"A big day?" Harry found himself asking, "Why's that?"

Fleur stopped immediately and the levitating plates suddenly fell. It was only due to his quick reaction time that allowed Harry to catch the falling dishes with the flick of his wand.

She put the serving plate she was holding down. "Do you— do you not remember last night?" Her voice was soft, softer than he usually heard it, even somewhat hesitant, like she was preparing for bad news. "What we talked about? What we planned to do?"

Harry's eyebrow rose into his hair. "Uh… no? Should I?" Having a feeling that he should.

Fleur wouldn't look at him, instead her shoulders dropped as she turned her back to him, making herself busy with a platter of sausages. "I 'oped so."

Ah shit, he was supposed to know what she was talking about. Curse his foggy hungover mind!

"Oh." He didn't know what to say. He could easily tell that Fleur was visibly disappointed and even let down by his answer. But what could have his drunken self agreed to that would make Fleur of all people so down? "I'm sorry, Fleur, I must be pretty hungover—"

"We agreed to go on 'oliday." She told him softly, her back still to him. "We're both so tired and desperate for a change of pace, to get away from people, away from work, away from responsibilities… away from every'zing."

She slowly turned around, fixing him with a look that did not match with Fleur's face; a pained face of hurt. "But I understand. You 'ave a life 'ere. A steady job, a godson you adore, and a manor to call 'ome… Why would you give all 'zat up to sleep on 'ze road in 'ze back of a van with me? I understand, you were drunk, and— and I… should not 'ave posed such a question on you. What should I 'ave expected."

She didn't say it as a question, more like a statement. Like there wasn't a possibility of him agreeing to join her.

And all at once, the memories of last night came crashing back.

"Oh, the road trip!" Harry nearly yelled, startling even himself.

"Oui, 'ze road trip." She said, her usually dazzling eyes still missing their shine, "do you… do you still not want to go with me?"

The hopeful and saddened expression on her face almost made him agree on the spot.

Harry mentally shook his head, it must have been her Veela blood or their friendship or something, because he couldn't just stop everything at the drop of a hat.

"I—, uh," he ran a hand through his slightly damp hair. "It's not that I don't want to go with you, Fleur, it's just that I just can't put my life on hold like that and take a road trip across the country on a whim."

She didn't move to face him or speak up, so he continued. "I—, I have a job, they just won't let me go on an extended holiday without notice. And I visit Teddy every weekend, and I've never missed a visit once. And—, and I was supposed to meet up with Ron and Hermione this weekend for lunch, I've been busy the last few weeks and we keep having to reschedule—."

Suddenly she cut him off. "'Arry, you're rambling." She put the food down on the stove and finally turned to face him. Her expression was hard. "All I 'eard were excuses, not reasons."

She stepped away from the stove and up to the table, setting the rest of the food down and motioned for him to sit next to her. After a few seconds of contemplation, he did. "Yes, you 'ave a job, but you said it yourself 'zat you 'ate it. And as for Teddy, you can always write to 'im or Apparate. I'm not saying for you to ignore 'im while we travel."

She paused momentarily to begin serving him a large plate of food. Continuing, she said, "And as for Ronald and 'ermione, it seems to me 'zat if it were such a high priority for you, 'zat you wouldn't 'ave 'ad to reschedule with 'zem so much." With a twirl of her wand she floated over a loaf of freshly baked bread and began cutting him a slice.

"'Arry, you said it yourself 'zat you were tired of every'zing at 'ze moment and needed a break. So, let me ask you again; do you still not want to go on 'oliday wi'z me?"

Harry didn't know what to say.

The thought of dropping all his responsibilities just like that made him slightly uneasy.

But it also brought something into his mind that he hadn't had for a long time;

A feeling of anticipation and excitement.

He had dreamed of being an Auror for years, but now that he had obtained that goal, he didn't know if it was really what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. And besides, he didn't really need a job anyway, he had more than enough money to live off of for the rest of his life. Most days he only felt that his job kept him from being bored anyway.

Letting out a breath, he looked to Fleur who had been delicately spreading butter on the fresh bread as if their conversation hadn't just made him reevaluate the entire direction of his life.

"Sod my job anyway, I'm still in."

He didn't know what reaction he'd get from Fleur, but he was for sure not expecting a high girly shriek of happiness before being enveloped by her slender arms and brought in for a hug.

But it was over before he could even realize what was happening. Fleur returned to her seat and let loose a string of French, "C'est magnifique! Nous devons nous préparer à partir tout de suite!"

Harry only blinked, having no idea what she just said. "Uh, what?"

Fleur stood up abruptly, clearly excited. "We should get ready to leave right away! Come on, 'arry!"

Harry— reaching down with his fork to take his first bite of eggs— asked; "But what about breakfast?"

She spun on the spot, grabbed his wrist that was trying to put the deliciously smelling food in his mouth and pulled him to his feet. "We can eat later! I'll pack it up for 'ze road." She exclaimed, dragging him along. "We don't have a moment to lose!"

Harry gave his untouched plate a look of longing before being pulled from the room.

~flowerpot~ ~line break~ ~flowerpot~ ~line break~

Without entirely knowing how it happened, Harry found himself taken to Fleur's garage where he saw a very large object covered by a dusk sheet. And considering where they were and what they were doing, he only needed one guess as to what it was.

With a dramatic flourish of her wand, Fleur banished the sheet.

Harry's jaw dropped seeing the vehicle in front of him.

It was an old and newly refurbished 1974 T2 VW baby blue Camper Van with a white roof and wooden roof rack. Beside it lay several small luggage bags and storage containers. With a flick of her wand, Fleur had the bags and containers fit themselves handsomely into the back of the van.

Looking to the French Veela, Harry asked, "Wait, did you already have this entire road trip idea planned out?"

Fleur shook her head as she levitated a spare tire up to the roof rack. "Non."

Harry's brow rose. "Then how did you get a van like this so fast? And get it ready for our trip?"

He barely caught her smirk, "Do not underestimate a French witch, Monsieur Potter. We can do any'zing we set our minds to."

Harry felt his brow rise even higher. "And you didn't spend all morning summoning and transfiguring things? Yeah, right." He joked. "Like you managed to track one down that's in this good of condition in just a few hours."

"Maybe." She smiled.

"Okay, then, shall we get going?" Harry asked, seeing Fleur just finished packing the van.

"Oui." She jumped into the passenger seat faster than Harry thought humanly possible. "Let's get going! I want to get on 'ze road before noon."

Harry chuckled to himself, amused. He had never seen this version of Fleur before, and he had never thought it possible either. But he'd be lying if he said it wasn't at least a little charming. Her smile was always contagious, even when they first met.

He smiled to himself, this trip would certainly be entertaining.

Climbing into the driver's seat without a word, Harry realized that there weren't any seatbelts. He shrugged his shoulders, figuring that it wasn't too odd with how old this van was. He went to start it up and paled seeing the gearshift.

"'Zat is why I did not want to drive," Fleur explained, seeing his comical reaction to the old vehicle. "I 'ave only driven a muggle vehicle on one occasion, so I figured you would be a safer driver."

Shrugging again, Harry turned the ignition and listened to the engine loudly start up. If this were any other vehicle, he'd deem it unsafe to drive based off sound alone, but with a quick thought of 'sod it, what's the worst that could happen?', he released the break and began backing up down the drive.

It was more than a little awkward to get to driving at first. It had no power steering, no A/C, no powered windows, no electronics of any kind and the steering wheel came up straight out of the floor, but even after just driving it down Fleur's drive, Harry found that he had a massive beaming smile on his face. And as he looked over to Fleur, her own dazzling smile would have made him smile anyway.

But as soon as they reached the road, Harry was struck with a thought; "Wait, where the hell are we going anyway?"

Fleur gave him another dazzling smile, "It's not 'ze destination, it's 'ze journey."

Harry frowned slightly as he continued to drive on. "That's a nice quote and all, but we're not gonna get anywhere if I don't know where we're going." He paused at an intersection to read the street signs. "And on that note, where the hell are we anyway? Are we still in London? And where are we even going?"

"Good question." Fleur's smile formed into a thinking expression, bringing her hand to her chin in thought. After a few seconds she grabbed her wand, and with a flick, said, "Accio map." And began to unfold the giant roadmap of Great Britain.

Suffice it to say, but Harry was not filled with confidence seeing Fleur struggle to unfold and even find where they were on the large map. But be obliged when she'd give him a direction like "take a left 'ere," or "I meant a right, sorry" or even "why did you English make your country so 'ard to navigate?" But he just kept driving, deciding to not worry about it.

But finally, Fleur seemed to find something on the map that interested her, because she gave a barely contained squeal of excitement. "Take 'ze next left 'ere, 'zen a right."

"Care to tell the driver where we're going?" He chuckled as he complied.

She promptly moved the map out of his view as he tried to look. "Non, I 'zink it would be better as a surprise." She said, grinning from over the large map.

"Alright, then." Said Harry with a smile, giving up and deciding to just go with it. Suddenly, his stomach growled. "Oh, hey, Fleur?"

"Oui?"

"Did you remember to pack up our breakfast? Maybe we can stop off just outside of the city and—."

"Non."

"Non?" Harry asked, his face paling at the thought of going without breakfast. "What do you mean 'no'?"

"..."

"...You forgot to pack up our breakfast, didn't you?"

Hidden behind the large map, Harry heard a soft and mumbled, "...Oui."

"...Bloody hell." Harry sighed, pulling into a fast food parking lot. "Looks like we're gonna have to make a stop for breakfast before we hit the road."

"Oui."

(to be continued)


(Author's Note:)

A somewhat shorter chapter than the last, I know, but I wanted to add a separation between the events in this one and the next. So because of that, I will be extending this story by another chapter, making it 6 chapters long. I'm sure no one will have a problem with that, right? Chapter 3 out sometime soon?

A HUGE thanks again to everyone who Reviewed, Followed and Favorited this story, it got bigger than I ever expected it to. Honestly, I didn't think anyone would read it.

Please leave a Review to let me know what you thought of this chapter! They go a long way in keeping me motivated.

Also, if you want to see the van I used as inspiration, then you can find it up on my Twitter (at HephaestusBuild).

Have a good one and Flowerpot for life,

Hephaestus