Author's Note: Welcome back to The Angel of the Sea, the fifth entry in my Life by the Sea series and my submission for the Harry/Fleur discord server Anniversary Collection. As promised, it has been ten days which means that another chapter is going up. I'm a bit nervous, as this is the first time I'm actually updating a story and not just posting a new one but, with any luck, you'll like it. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, and there are several times where I include IRL accurate info which I'm curious how many people will pick up on. Leave a review with the ones you find, some of them are quite subtle and hard to spot.
That said, I never would have gotten even this far if it were not for the support of many people over on the Harry/Fleur Discord server, the link to which will be at the end along with a fanfic recommendation. Thanks to DaveAthenai, Charlennette, and x102reddragon in particular for inspiring me and encouraging me to write these stories. If you enjoy the story please leave a comment telling me what you think worked and what didn't, your feedback is crucial in helping me to get better as an author.
The Angel of the Sea:
Chapter Two
Blue water stretched out in front of them, a gentle breeze carrying the fresh scent of the Mediterranean up from the wide bay in which the Spanish town of Xàbia resided. The waves lapped at the gravel beach, surging between the white rocks and cliffs to either side. Fleur looked out over the sea with a sense of mixed excitement and uncertainty as Harry carefully checked the map given to them at the Portkey office in the Spanish ministry.
The previous night's events were still playing through her mind. The sudden decision to bring Aimee to meet her family, the shock of Harry's plans, and the unexpected nervousness that came with being a country away from her children for the first time. The corners of her mouth lifted in spite of it, remembering Isabelle's excitement at going to stay with Roxanne for the five days Fleur and Harry would be gone. George and Angelina's daughter had been Isabelle's closest friend for as long they had been alive, though the separation of countries left them writing each other short letters more often than not. She smiled fully thinking about the two of them, and she almost missed the sudden ceasing of Harry's frustrated muttering as he fumbled back and forth between the map and the translated dictionary.
"Seńor and Seńora Potter, I presume?"
The voice came from an old man walking up beside them, the same man whom Harry had stopped to stare at as he walked straight through their muggle-repelling charm and approached them. Fleur nodded silently, taking in his appearance. He was dressed in dark brown slacks and a cream-coloured button-up shirt, and he wore a flat brown cap on his head. His face was wizened and wrinkled, though friendly-looking, and he had a wispy white moustache that had been trimmed and managed into a pair of impressive curls. He looked friendly. No more than five feet in height, he had to crane his neck to look Harry in the eyes as he addressed them.
"My name is Emaan. If you will follow me, I will take you to your craft."
The man turned and began walking away, gesturing for them to follow. Harry and Fleur exchanged glances, Harry shrugged, and they began following along behind the stooped elder.
"Are you Mr. Botero?" asked Harry.
The boatmaker nodded jovially. "I am he. I was quite excited to work on your vessel, your needs provided an interesting challenge the likes of which I have not had in some time."
"How long have you been making boats?" asked Fleur.
"Oh, a hundred years, maybe more. My grandfather taught me everything he knew and I took over for him when he died in eighteen eighty-seven."
That gave Fleur pause, and her eyes widened as she made calculations in her head. "How old are you," she said in astonishment.
He laughed, the sound hearty and strong, though brief. "One hundred and sixty-two if I remember my years correctly, and there's no guarantee of that." He winked at them, smiling at his own joke and the surprise on their faces. "Not much longer for me now, but I'm glad to have worked on such a fine craft before I go."
The silence that sounded after the boatwright finished speaking was exceedingly uncomfortable to Fleur, and she wasn't quite sure how to respond. She had experience with death, living through the war had guaranteed that, but it had also irrevocably associated it with pain and conflict. Surprisingly it was Harry that broke the silence, speaking scant seconds after it had fallen.
"Death isn't so bad, just another road. Never having lived is what people should fear."
Mr. Botero turned to face him, eyebrows raised with a surprised look on his face, though after a second comprehension dawned. "Yes, I suppose so, and I supposed that you would know, wouldn't you Seńor Potter."
Harry smiled, not sadly or bitterly, but with simple confidence and warm understanding. "Yes, I would."
The old man's eyes widened slightly, and he seemed to straighten as he grinned. "I see," he whispered. "Well, enough of this dreariness. Come, I have a masterpiece to show you." With that he hurried off again with a spring in his step that hadn't been there before, calling animatedly for them to follow. Harry did, sending Fleur an amused look as he set off after the excited old man, though Fleur lagged behind for a moment, uncertain as to what she just saw.
~0~
The boat came into sight a few minutes later as they stepped through a magical barrier and onto a much older-looking section of the port. It was a little less than fifty feet long, with honeyed wood sides and white deck, white canvas sails, and bronze rails and fittings. There was a nameplate on the side of the craft, near the bow just below the deck, but it was blank.
"Why is there no name?" asked Fleur, the first words she had said since Harry's strange exchange with the old man.
The boat maker chuckled. "Because it has no name," he said. "I crafted the vessel, I trimmed its sails and set its keel, and I wove the magic into every curve and grain, but it is not my ship. It is yours, Sra. Potter, yours and your husband's. There is power in a name, a power that is not mine to wield."
It made sense in a way, reminding Fleur of some of the old stories her Grandmother liked to tell, though she had not expected the principle to apply to nautical craft.
"How do we give it its name when we decide on one?" asked Harry.
The boatmaker pulled out his wand, long and spiralled with deep grooves, and tapped the nameplate once sharply. The bronze plate seemed to ripple like water before clarifying back to a mirror sheen.
"Tap the plate and say the name you wish to give it, then channel the meaning of the words into the craft. It will appear on this plate and on the other two, located on the stern and the starboard side opposite this one," he paused, looking at them with surprising seriousness. "I have not made a craft like this in more than thirty years. Whatever you decide to name it, make sure it is the right one."
Fleur glanced at Harry, finding him just as caught off guard as she was. They both nodded and the boatmaker smiled happily, returning to his previous joviality.
"The stores are full with everything you requested; there is a book with the necessary maintenance in the cabin, along with the enchantments and their weave; and the helm-globe is working as it should."
He clapped his hands together and rubbed them eagerly, rocking slightly on the balls of his feet. "That should be all you need to be off. Have a blessed voyage Seńor, and you as well Seńora Potter." With that, the boat maker spun around and began making his way up the pier, whistling a jaunty, wavering tune as he bounced along as fast as his old legs could carry him.
"Well," said Harry, "Shall we go?"
Fleur looked at Harry, at the retreating form of the Emaan Botero, at the boat, and then back at Harry. "I suppose so," she said, shrugging.
Harry clapped his hands and rubbed his palms in a manner reminiscent of the boatmaker, then stepped onto the gangplank and walked aboard with Fleur right behind him. The vessel rocked slightly beneath her feet, though it was mostly steady. She ducked beneath a line of rigging and followed Harry down the short flight of steps that led from the deck to the cockpit and swim platform. As they stepped down into the cockpit, Harry immediately moved over to a console with a large glass dome set into it, under which was an astonishingly lifelike map of the surrounding region.
"What is that?" asked Fleur.
"It's the helm globe," said Harry, sounding very much like Teddy fawning over a new racing broom at the store. "I just tap the location I want to go with my wand, tap this gem here to confirm the destination," he gestured to a small amber coloured gem set into the console next to the dome as he spoke, "and the ship's enchantments take care of the rest," he finished, beaming.
Fleur frowned. "You do know how to pilot a sailboat, right?"
Harry's smile wavered slightly.
"Harry…"
"Yes, technically."
She scowled.
"Theoretically?"
She crossed her arms.
"I did my research, I just didn't have a chance to practice."
"And what happens, dear husband of mine, if something goes wrong with the enchantments when we are in the middle of the Mediterranean?"
"Well that's what the book is for, so we can fix it if something goes wrong."
"Harry, are you a professional enchanter?"
"Well, no."
"Am I a professional enchanter?"
"Not really."
"So, if neither of us is a trained and qualified enchanter, what makes you think we will be able to fix this incredibly complex self-piloting boat, even with the instructions provided."
Harry was very quiet for a few moments before speaking.
"Have I mentioned just how radiant you are looking today?"
"Arrgh!" she threw her hands up in the air and spun around, cursing Harry's impulsiveness under her breath.
"It'll be fine, Fleur. The Botero's are the finest boatwrights in all of Spain, we'll be fine using the auto-pilot for the week, and then when we get back to France I will take all the sailing lessons I can find."
She maintained her irritation for another minute before caving under the weight of Harry's pleading expression, sighing and nodding in agreement. "Fine, but you are taking those lessons as soon as we get home."
He smiled, and she felt the corners of her lips rising in response. "Now come, show me this ship you bought me."
Harry nodded happily and opened the slanted hatchway that rested between the wheel and the helm-globe, ducking inside. Fleur followed, and she was more surprised than she should have been to find the interior expanded beyond what should have been possible given the craft's size.
"I love magic," muttered Harry, grinning.
She nodded, looking around in appreciation. It was… cozy. Lacquered wood planks formed the floor, ceiling, and walls, though the ceiling was a lighter colour than the floor and the floor was a lighter colour than the walls. Immediately to starboard from the steps leading down was a dining area with an eight-person table. Towards the bow from the dining area was a bar set against a wall that spanned from the starboard side to near the middle of the ship. There was a long open hall off-center to the left of the bar, leading towards the prow with a cabin door at the end and two more cabins to starboard in the space in front of the bar blocked off by the wall.
"How big is the interior?" asked Fleur.
"Seventy odd feet long and twenty-two feet wide, double the size it should be," Harry answered.
There was a lounge area with low couches running the length of the hall on the port side in the narrow strip of space that wasn't occupied by either the cabins or the hallway, and another door closer to them before the lounge area started. It was nearly abreast with the bar, and from the plaque on its surface she surmised it to be a restroom. It jutted out from the outer wall with the same depth as the lounge area and took up perhaps half the available space to port from the steps. There were two more doors aft of the entryway set into a wall that spanned the vessel. One between the steps and the restroom, another cabin by the look of it; and the second to starboard in the middle of the wall aft of the dining area. From what she could see through the porthole, that room was a kitchen. Small round portholes were set into the walls at eye level, letting in light and allowing them to see out though she hadn't seen a single one from the outside.
"What do you think?" asked Harry.
"It is nice," said Fleur after a moment of thought, " I like it."
Harry grinned. "I hoped you would, but come on. It's almost noon and we need to get underway. We can explore after we leave the harbour."
He turned and headed back up the steps with Fleur close behind. The breeze and the scent of the sea hit her as she exited the cabin, and her eyes took a moment to adjust to the glare of the sun off the blue water once again. Harry was busily tapping his wand against the helm-globe, dragging the tip lightly over the surface and manipulating the map below it.
"Where are we going today?"
"Valencia," answered Harry. "There's a magical community there with their own harbour concealed right in the middle of the city, so that's where we'll go."
"Will we be in magical communities the entire way?"
"No, just in Valencia and Cadaqués. The other stops will be in muggle harbours."
Fleur nodded, watching in fascination as Harry tapped the amber-colored gemstone and the ship came to life around them. The rigging surged to motion, the sails unfurled, the gangplank drew itself aboard of its own accord along with the tie lines that held them to the pier, and a hundred other things happened all at once with the smooth precision of a master. In mere moments they had begun moving, the two of them staring in astonishment at the sheer complexity of the magic being worked before their eyes.
"I'll admit," Harry said after a moment of stunned silence, "That looked slightly more complicated than I had anticipated."
Fleur laughed, rich and clear as a bell.
~0~
They sailed from the port of Xàbia completely unimpeded, the auto-piloting enchantments guiding them past any and every obstacle, though whenever they encountered another ship the other vessel moved seamlessly out of the way.
"It's part of the enchantments," Harry had explained. "Mr. Botero made the boat invisible to anyone not using magical methods of observation, and the space around us gets warped to move other ships out of the way and travel vast distances."
"I assume there is a way to disable it for when we need to dock at a muggle port?"
"I made sure of it, that's what Mr. Botero meant about our needs being challenging."
So they settled in for the voyage to Valencia, the blue water coursing by and the distant shoreline moving lazily past them as they sailed north, the breeze, the gentle rocking of the ship, and the slight billow of the tall sail their only company as they crossed the sea.
"Why a boat?" Fleur asked eventually.
"What do you mean?"
"You could have easily taken me to each of the stops along the way by magic," Fleur explained, "and then we would have had more time in each city. So, why the boat?"
"Aside from the swashbuckling charm?"
Fleur glared at him.
Harry shrugged noncommittally. "It made sense to me. We live on the coast, it seems a bit odd that we don't take advantage of it more. That and, well, Teddy is going to Hogwarts next year."
Fleur's breath caught in her throat. "He is, he really is."
"Yeah," Harry responded.
They were quiet for a while before Harry spoke again. "They're all growing up, it seems like only yesterday that I was holding Teddy in my arms after Remus and Dora died, and only a day after that when Teddy was holding Isabelle in your room in Saint Fiacre's the day that she was born. Soon they'll start growing up properly and I'll be left with nothing to do, alone at the house all day until they come home for the hols."
Fleur frowned, not having considered that before. She looked away from the rolling blue water and towards Harry, taking in the palpable melancholy in the way his eyelids drooped, his brows fell, and his lips remained still and impassive.
"What will you do?"
He shrugged again. "We have a boat now, maybe I'll go fishing."
Her brows wrinkled and she let out an explosive sigh. "You are undoubtedly the most infuriating man I've ever met," she said in consternation.
The corners of his mouth tilted upwards ever so slightly, and there was a teasing tilt to his voice when he spoke. "Hey, you're the one who married me."
Fleur smiled gently, the exasperation melting away as she reached over to take his hand in hers. "Yes I am, nine years ago today, you and all your infuriating ways."
Harry nodded happily, "And what a lucky man I was that you would deign to have me."
Fleur snorted, having privately believed much the reverse for most of their relationship during the war.
"So, the sudden realization that our children are growing up has prompted a spark of existential conflict in you as you fear that you will lose the place in their lives that you have founded your identity on when they leave for school and you are left all alone in an empty house, and your solution was to buy a boat?"
"Yep," he said, enunciating the pop of the 'P'.
She sighed in exasperation once more while he snickered.
~0~
The Sun had just started its descent to the horizon when the city of Valencia appeared on the horizon. The city was backlit by the descending sun, the eastern faces of the buildings shrouded in wine-dark veil even as they were surrounded by a halo of fiery reds and orange hues. The port was bustling with throngs of ships, from vast cargo haulers in shipping lanes to personal craft cutting through the surf, though they moved out of the way as their vessel approached, the water distorting and reflecting oddly as space bent to allow them both to pass unimpeded through the same places.
"Where are we going?"
"The magical port," answered Harry, fiddling with the helm-globe. "There should be a canal just south of the main harbor just inside the mouth of the river, it'll take us to the magical district."
The ship kept up its course towards the river, the cargo ships on their right moving away to the industrial harbor as they moved closer, the smaller ships eventually doing the same. They approached the river and Fleur began to grow concerned as she saw just how shallow it was, how quickly it narrowed into what amounted to a small stream.
"Harry…" Fleur said warily.
"It'll be fine."
"I do not see a canal."
"It'll be fine."
"Not if we beach ourselves in the middle of muggle Valencia."
Harry remained silent for a few more seconds, and Fleur was about to speak again when he suddenly leaned forward and exclaimed triumphantly. "There it is, that archway there, do you see it?"
Fleur leaned forward as well and, sure enough, there was a tall archway standing on the north side of the river. It appeared to lead to nothing, the clamor of the muggles bypassing it entirely as it stood alone, but when Fleur looked through it she could see a canal winding through meadows and fields that were most definitely not present on the other side. The bow angled towards the archway and the ship carried them through of its own accord, the peak of the arch seeming to loom ever higher as they approached until the mast passed beneath it with ease.
Fleur stared in wonder at the archway as it passed them by, and then at the land around them. It was as if they had stepped back in time, the city of Valencia disappearing and leaving nothing but unblemished land in its place. The only signs of civilization were the rapidly retreating archway, and a great tunnel carved into the sloping hills in front of them into which the canal flowed. She glanced at Harry and saw that he looked just as astounded as she felt, his eyes wide and mouth open as he stared around them at the incredible feet of magic on display. All too soon they approached the tunnel, the rolling hills and fields giving way to arches of brown and red brick with white mortar, lit by lanterns to a warm orange glow.
They said nothing as they moved through the tunnel, by silent agreement waiting with bated breath to see what was at the other end. They were not disappointed. The magical harbor of Valencia was surrounded by high walls of a Roman style, and the entire place felt as though it had sunken into the earth. There were moorings for perhaps two hundred ships of a size like their own, more than half of which were full, and on all sides of the dock there were open markets filled with stalls, more permanent shops set into the walls surrounding the area. Statues were lined every wall, artful carvings and facades adding life and depth to the otherwise incredibly contained magical district.
Harry began fiddling with the helm-globe, tapping his wand on its surface as it began shifting and changing images. Soon they were approaching an open mooring and the ship began to slow as the sails began pulling themselves up into a stowed position. Harry tapped the globe one last time and they came to a stop, the anchor dropped, and the tie lines attached themselves to the pier.
"Welcome to Valencia," Harry said brightly.
Fleur smiled, lost for words at just how incredible a place it was. The researcher in her wanted nothing more than to turn the boat around, go back to the archway leading into the canal, and camp out on the impossibly unblemished banks of the river while studying the magic of the portal for days. But another part of her, a part that hadn't been stirred since the day that she saw Cedric Diggory's corpse appear in the victor's circle alongside Harry after the third task of the Triwizard Tournament and death made itself known to her for the first time, wanted simply to explore. It wanted to wander the marketplace and the shops therein, to walk beside strangers whose names and lives she would never know, and who would never know her, and to see what wonders the day would bring, what strange shores the tides of chance would carry her to on her raft of driftwood and dreams.
"Our dinner reservation isn't until nine o'clock."
Fleur looked over at him, eyes wide and breathless with a desire she had not thought she would ever feel again. He smiled back at her.
"Shall we see where the day carries us, my lady?"
She nodded slowly, taking his proffered hand and feeling the smile on her face widen to an all-encompassing joy. The two of them walked down the gangplank and turned towards the market, eager to lose their way.
The magical district of Valencia, hidden from mundane eyes within the central market of the old city, was unlike anything Fleur had seen before. It was small, entirely contained around the harbor, but within that space, it seemed to contain an entire civilization. There were tapestry makers, enchanters, a wandmaker, even simple fruit stands wove every which way through the open air. Laughter and greetings echoed off the ground, the stone pavement carrying the uplifting sounds to all who could hear. They wandered through the market for hours, taking turns to point excitedly at some new bauble or crafted work, dragging the other to see. They came across golden lyres and harps that played on their own, ribbons and scarves that would let you ride the winds, walking staves that turned every step to an entire journey so long as they were in your hand, and a globe filled with starlight and a single grain of sand that would bring forth a ghostly image of the world as it was said to be long ago. Through it all they wandered as the sun fell and the day turned to evening, purple shadows and the light of golden lamps filling up the sunken marketplace while the first of the heavenly objects came into view, the planet Saturn gleaming high above.
They were in a tailor shop when Fleur noticed the time of day. Harry was examining an array of cloaks advertised to allow the wearer to fly while Fleur investigated another section of the magical clothing store and found something that would be of use later that evening, but as she made her purchase and paid for the small flat box she looked outside and saw how deep the shadows had become. She checked her watch and found it was eight twenty, less than an hour until their reservation.
"Something the matter, dear?"
Fleur glanced back over at the proprietor, an elderly woman with thick, rich black hair who reminded her strongly of her astronomy professor from Beauxbatons.
Fleur flashed a quick smile and dipped her head. "It is nothing, I had not noticed the time."
The old seamstress nodded sagely, amusement twinkling in her eyes. "It is easy to lose track of the world when we are busy losing ourselves within it, though there comes a time when we all must find our way again. Only so many days to live, after all."
She smiled and nodded politely, walking over to where Harry was staring speculatively at a bright red cape and shrinking her package to fit in her pocket as she did so.
"Harry, we will be late if we do not leave now."
He nodded distractedly, still looking at the cape. "The clerk said it's enchanted to let you fly."
"You have a broom for that, do you not?"
He nodded, tearing his eyes away from the cape and back towards his wife. "Did you get anything?"
"I did," said Fleur. "Something for later."
He raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. Instead, he followed her out of the shop and then, once the two of them were a polite distance away, took her arm and apparated them back onto the boat.
"Right," he said while walking towards the master cabin, "our reservation is at Giardino del Carmen, it's in the muggle side of Valencia so we'll have to leave a bit early to be careful."
Fleur nodded and followed him, both hurrying to change and get ready.
~0~
The portal between the muggle and magical sides of Valencia was hidden in Mercat Central, the renovated marketplace of the old city, and Fleur couldn't help but admire the architecture as they passed through on their way to the restaurant, the central glass dome catching her eye in particular. The entire building was a high, vaulted space supported by spanning steel arches, painted white and decorated along their broader faces by murals of rich vines laden with oranges. It was filled with stalls, and though it was closed for the day Fleur could almost hear the bustle and life that would fill it come the morning. The portal into the magical district was arranged much like the entrance to platform nine and three quarters in King's Cross Station, set into a board column that would act as a portal for any magical entity that approached it. They had cast disillusionment charms on themselves before passing through to avoid making a scene on the other side, a wise choice on account of the security cameras that would have otherwise taken note of their passing. They walked quietly through the empty market to the north entrance, silencing themselves and apparating to the other side of the locked doors.
An old yellow car drove by them heading south as they got their bearings. They moved out of sight and view of the cameras and canceled their disillusionment and silencing charms, Fleur shivering slightly from the sensation of the spells being removed. Stepping back out of the alley they had ducked into, Fleur shivered slightly. The air was cool, the sea breeze adding a crispness to the summer night that raised momentary goosebumps along the exposed skin of her arms and shoulders, bared by the pure white linen sundress she was wearing. Harry, who was dressed in a grey vest and slacks with a white shirt, was immune to the slight chill, but he waved his hand in her direction and she felt a sudden warmth wash over her, and she caught a glimpse of his wand tip poking out from the cuff of his sleeve.
"Shall we," said Harry brightly, gesturing away from the market and towards a street to the northwest, past an old stone church. "It isn't far."
She nodded and they set off, waiting at the crosswalk for an old yellow car to amble past and passing another pedestrian crossing from the other side in turn. Fleur glanced at the street sign as they turned left down it, 'Carrer de Beluga' it read. Soon the left side of the street opened up to reveal a small rectangular park, barely larger than the buildings around them, with well-trimmed hedges, wrought iron arches, a fountain in each corner, and a round plaza in the center surrounded by brick columns with a gazebo-like ring of white wood beams atop them.
"This is it, just ahead on the right."
Fleur looked where Harry was pointing and saw an unassuming door set into the surrounding brickwork, only made distinct by the large windows beside it revealing the elegant interior of the restaurant.
The curved walls were covered in a pale blue wallpaper with a pattern of large red-orange flowers, and the floor was well-polished hardwood. There were small plants potted on every table and larger ones on the edges of the room, and the entire space was illuminated by lamps that hung low from the ceiling casting everything in a comforting glow. A young man standing at a lectern near the door looked over at them as they walked in, his eyes hesitating on Fleur for a long moment before he collected himself and greeted them.
"Bienvenidos a Giadirno del Carmen," he said, a polite mixture of friendliness and professionalism defining his tone. "¿Tenéis una reserva?"
Harry smiled apologetically. "My Spanish isn't very good I'm afraid. Do you speak English, ou peut-être Français ?"
The host nodded, switching into slightly accented English. "It is no trouble. Welcome to Giadirno del Carmen, do you have a reservation?"
"Potter, for nine o'clock."
The host checked his list for a moment before finding their name. Seeing it, he looked back up at them and smiled. Picking up a pair of menus, the young man began moving towards the tables.
"Right this way."
They followed him and were soon seated. He left and soon after a young woman approached them dressed in the same uniform the host had been. "My name is Luciana, I will be your server for this evening." Her voice was more heavily accented than the host's had been, but was still quite good. Perhaps even better than Fleur's English had been when she first went to Britain for the Triwizard Tournament. "What would you like to drink?"
"Water with lemon," said Harry.
"The same, but also bring us a bottle of the Clos Erasmus Laurel Priorat," said Fleur, reading from the wine list.
Luciana nodded, writing their drinks down on her notepad, and headed off towards the kitchen. As their server moved away the two of them began examining the menus in earnest, both glad to see that translations into English, French, and Italian accompanied each dish in smaller text below the Spanish descriptions. As she was reading the entrées the Espaguetis Cuadrados con Almejas y Calabacín caught her eye, a pasta dish served with clams, zucchini, garlic, and parsley.
"What do you think about the Caldereta de Marisco del Mediterráneo for an appetizer?" asked Harry.
She scanned the relevant section of the menu and found it, a fresh shellfish stew made from the days' catch at the market, served over croutons in a tomato sauce.
"It looks good, we can get it." Harry nodded, reading over another section of the menu. Luciana soon returned with their water and wine, opening the bottle and setting it aside to breathe while she took their orders.
"We would like the Caldereta de Marisco del Mediterráneo for starters, and I would like the Espaguetis Cuadrados con Frutos del Mar," said Harry, pausing in between to let the young woman jot it down.
"And I would like the Espaguetis Cuadrados con Almejas y Calabacín," said Fleur. Luciana smiled and took their menus, saying the soup would be out shortly.
"Our dishes sounded similar, what did you get?"
"Spaghetti," answered Fleur, "with clams and zucchini."
Harry nodded approvingly. "I got spaghetti too, though mine comes with today's catch from the market." He glanced over at the bottle of wine, "How long should we let it breathe?"
"Half an hour or so," answered Fleur. "It should be fine by the time our entrées arrive." Harry nodded, having long since become accustomed to trusting Fleur's opinion on wine.
"So, how are you enjoying our voyage so far?"
Fleur smiled, thinking back over the day's events. "It has been pleasant, more so than I expected. The magical district was quite enchanting and this restaurant is wonderful. How did you find it? I know you didn't go to visit our every stop in person."
Harry chuckled. "No, I went to a library."
Fleur arched an eyebrow. "A library in France told you to come here?"
He half-shrugged. "Not exactly, I used the public computers to look up good places to visit along the coast, and then restaurants in each locale."
It took her a moment to translate what he was saying through what she had learned at Beauxbatons and the stories he had told her from growing up connected to the muggle world and, not for the first time, she lamented how out of touch with muggle advancements her career as a magical researcher kept her. Muggle studies had not been her favourite class, but it had been interesting enough and the material she learned had all seemed to indicate that their non-magical counterparts had been on the cusp of incredible advances using nothing but their ingenuity and an understanding of the natural order of the world that often surpassed that of Wizards. The internet had still been new when she was in school, and their coursework had not been updated to include it until after she had graduated. She had been right, and she had also been too busy to pay attention. First with the war, then with helping Harry, then with being a new mother, and then with her career… it had never slowed down.
"And what about the boat?"
She blinked, drawn out of her reverie by Harry's question. She smiled teasingly, "Do you mean your floating midlife crisis?"
He sniffed and held his head high haughtily. "I object to that notion. I have no idea when I will die, and as such, it is highly presumptive to say it is 'midlife.' So I have decided to have an ongoing crisis instead."
Fleur snorted, and she wasn't the only one. Luciana almost dropped their bowls of stew before she could set them down, she was so caught off guard by Harry's joke, though she steadied herself before anything bad could happen. Harry smiled kindly at the woman, apologizing for disrupting her concentration. She just smiled and waved it off as she set the bowls in front of them, giving Fleur a strange and nearly imperceptible look before walking away. They didn't say much for a while, both of them thoroughly enjoying the soup and the restaurant's atmosphere. Although, as they ate, something began to tug at Fleur's mind and wouldn't go away. The thought still hadn't fully formed by the time their entrées arrived, though that was enough to take her attention away from the conundrum as she smiled back at their server who was giving her a wide, friendly smile as she set the plate in front of her and took the shallow soup bowl away.
She took a bite of the spaghetti with a clam speared on the end of her fork, enjoying the fresh pop of the flavors that came with fresh ingredients. Harry poured her a glass of the Clos Erasmus Laurel Priorat and she picked up the glass gratefully, swirling the deep red liquid and inhaling the rich bouquet. She took a sip and was delighted by the flavor, savoring the subtle notes of blackberry and violet.
"The grape juice is magnificent this year," Harry whispered from across the table. Fleur scowled while Harry smirked.
"Will you never let that go?"
"Nope," said Harry, emphasizing the pop of the 'P'. She sulked, feeling oddly petulant as she sipped her really quite delicious wine. It was a reference to a time just after Isabelle had been born, in one of the brief windows of time when she had been sleeping peacefully, when Fleur had collapsed in the parlour with a glass of wine, forgetting in her exhaustion that Teddy was at the house. He had entered the room and asked what she was drinking and Fleur, in a rare moment of unthinking haste, had said it was grape juice, Teddy had then wanted to try it, and Fleur had been forced to improvise further by saying it was bad. Teddy had then questioned why she was drinking it and she had responded that it was good for her health. Teddy, in what she maintained was the only time before or since that moment when he had shown an active willingness to consume "gross foods" in service to his health, had only wanted to try it more. She had eventually convinced him that it would upset his stomach and that the then five-year-old could try it when he was older.
She had thought she got away with the embarrassment with Harry none the wiser until, two weeks later after James and Isabelle had been put to bed, Harry had taken a sip of wine, looked her straight in the eye, and declared, "This grape juice is of an excellent vintage." She had known instantly what he was referencing and had almost spewed her own sip of wine all over the parlour before managing to contain herself.
She continued scowling at her husband while he continued to smile and looked pleased with himself, then she took another sip of wine and found that maintaining her annoyance just wasn't worth the effort involved and she would much rather enjoy her wine and food instead, in that order. Dinner continued in that same vein for a while, the two of them trading light-hearted banter and old jokes always staying on the safe side of civility, though they got quite close to the line at times, and enjoying their food and each other's company. Around halfway through the meal, the same thought from earlier returned to Fleur's mind, fully formed and ready to spring.
"Harry," Fleur asked thoughtfully, "What was going on this morning with Monsieur Botero before we got to the pier?"
He paused with his fork partway to his mouth, a mussel poised on the tip, and spaghetti swirled around the tines. He frowned in thought, taking the bite and chewing while thinking back to that morning.
"When we spoke of death?"
Fleur's jaw tightened ever so slightly in discomfort and she nodded.
"Well, I knew it was nothing to be frightened of, so I told him so. He had already lived a full life, he had nothing to be concerned over when he moved on to his next great adventure."
Fleur frowned at her glass of wine, looking down and away from Harry. "I wish you would not call it that," she muttered, taking a large sip.
He sighed. "I know."
Neither spoke for a bit, and neither touched their food, both lost in thought.
"My perspective was changed, and like the man who ventured from the cave to see the real world for the first time I cannot undo the change, I will never accept the shadows for what they are again."
She looked up at him to find that he was not looking at her, but out the window to her left and towards the park on the other side of the street. She opened her mouth to speak but he continued before she could.
"I know that there is nothing in that place for me to fear, Fleur, because I have been there. And, and I know that is also the reason why you wish I would not talk about it like I do because I have been there and you could only watch, but when I see someone so uncertain, even if they have grown so used to that uncertainty that they hardly think of it anymore, then I can't just say nothing."
She frowned, squeezing the stem of her wine glass much harder than was strictly appropriate as she grappled with her feelings on the matter.
"He was a stranger."
"He is a person like you and me."
She sighed, deflating with the air that left her lungs. "I know, it is just hard."
"I know, and I'm sorry. Tonight was not supposed to have things like this."
"Oh," she said wryly, "and what was it supposed to have?"
He smiled mischievously and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "I can think of a few things."
She felt the corners of her lips rise despite herself, already knowing that Harry was building to some joke or another to subvert the expectations he had laid and cheer her up. It was just the sort of man her husband was.
"Anything in particular?"
"Ice cream," he said with complete seriousness.
Fleur laughed, high and clear as a bell, gentle as falling rain. It wasn't the joke, it wasn't the corny punchline that lifted her spirits, it was the fact that he did it all. It was the way he always did his best to cheer her up, to pick up her spirits when they flagged and fell, to be there for her through thick and thin, never counting the costs because he knew that she didn't either. For all that, and because he made a truly awful joke substituting ice cream for lechery, she smiled.
Harry's softened, his expression shifting from mischief to tenderness. "There it is," he said gently.
"What?"
"Your smile."
She felt her expression soften as well as he looked at her, the same look she had seen on his face countless times before, the same look that never failed to make her feel like that only thing that mattered in the entire world.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
~0~
After that their evening had wound down. They finished their entrées and ordered Semifrío de almendras con chocolate caliente, hot chocolate with almond semifreddo, for dessert, then left to go back to their still-unnamed boat. As they had left, their server's eyes had lingered on Fleur, and it wasn't until the host did the same thing when they passed him on the way out that she realized why. Her discipline over her Veela abilities had slipped at Harry's first joke prior that evening and they had been passively acting upon her surroundings ever since. In retrospect, perhaps Luciana's stumble had not been from Harry's joke after all. She told Harry about it and he had first made sure she was okay and alright with what happened, and then he had teased her mercilessly.
She had teased him right back, thinking about the package she had bought earlier and how she could use it to extract a suitable degree of vengeance.
The walk back to Mercat Central was a short one, as short as it had been on the way to Giardino del Carmen, but now it was noticeably cooler to the point that a warming charm became a necessity rather than mere comfort. It may have been summer, but the sea breeze cooled the air significantly and Veela, beings of air and fire, opposed the cold on principle. Moving back through the harbour market on the magical side of the portal, Fleur paused to look up at the stars shining down through the open air of the harbor. Countless points of light gleaming white, silver, red, green, and blue, her eyes picking out the familiar constellations of Draco, Hercules, and Lyra overhead. Harry stopped and looked up with her, and for a while the two stood alone in the center of the plaza, gazing at the stars.
They moved on, heading back to the boat and finding another wonder when they reached it. The starlight reflected off and through the blue water of the harbor, the slight ripples distorting and warping the multicolored points of light until the water resembled a swirling sea of starlight, light made liquid and poured down from Olympus into the basin of the oceans for mortals to see. Finally, they went aboard their boat and down into the cabin.
Fleur showered first, and though she could feel the old bones of sleep coming up on her and soon wanting to drag her down into dreams, there was one more thing she had left to do. She unshrunk the box with a tap of her wand, opened it, and set about putting on the artful lace and gossamer fabric. By the time Harry had finished his shower and came back out of the triangular bathroom set into the prow, Fleur had finished her preparations and donned a satin robe to conceal herself until the perfect moment.
Harry walked over to the bed and lay down, laying his head back against the pillows and closing his eyes with a contented smile on his face. Fleur let the robe slip off her shoulders to pool around her feet. She stepped lightly over to the bed and crawled over to him, laying down beside him and resting her head on his chest. He reached up a hand and began stroking her hair gently, eyes still closed. She relaxed into it for a few seconds, enjoying the feeling of his fingers running through her hair as ever but, eventually, anticipation won out.
"Harry, are you perhaps forgetting something?" she asked, her voice low.
"I swear, I fixed the shower before we left," Harry mumbled instantly.
Fleur chuckled. "Not that." She watched a frown cross his face as he tried to figure out what she meant, a broad smile stretching across her face as she waited. After a few seconds of thought, his hand fell away from her hair in his distraction and landed on her shoulder, feeling the strap of lace there. He froze, and the frown morphed into confusion.
"What are you wearing?"
"What you have forgotten, dear husband of mine," she said, rising to stare straight into his now very much open and aware eyes. "Is that we are in another country with our bed all to ourselves, with no one to interrupt us in any way whatsoever."
Harry's eyes went wide in realization and he matched her smile with one of his own, surging up to meet her lips in a kiss that left her feeling giddy. Boats and voyages and romantic dinners in exotic locales were wonderful, and Fleur would never regret letting Harry make plans in the way he did, but she had plans for their anniversary as well. Her husband didn't seem to mind much, not much at all.
AN: Thank you for reading. If you liked the story then please leave a comment telling me what you think worked and what didn't. Your feedback is crucial to helping me improve as an author and is always appreciated, and also leave a review with the IRL references you spotted throughout the chapter. I'm still working on finding a way to link things in ffn, so please excuses the strangeness there.
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Fanfic Recommendation: (FFN)https(semicolon)(slash)(slash)wwwdot fanfiction dotnet(slash)s(slash)13764597(slash)1(slash)With-Whom-To-Dance?
Another product of the Harry/Fleur server, With Whom To Dance? is a delightful fic by WardenInTheNorth that centers around a retelling of the Yule Ball and the events that follow.