Author's Note: It's been another ten days, so here's another chapter. One thing my beta readers, (thank you x102reddreagon and Arnie1701theOwlman), mentioned is that my stories make them hungry, and I'm curious what you all think about the food and how I describe it. I try to use actual dishes from the specific restaurant the characters are going to, or at least the right region if I can't find a menu online. What do you all think about my use of food and its descriptions? Let me know in a comment or review what you think.
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 Three
Fleur woke up to flickering sunlight lazing across her face, streaming in from the porthole above their bed. The light was warm and pleasant, though the brightness in her eyes was less welcome. She pressed closer into Harry's chest and he sleepily wrapped his arm around her in response to her burrowing. They stayed like that for a while, both of them silently protesting the growing light and distant murmur of life by the tenacity with which they ignored the outside world. Eventually, unfortunately, they did have to awaken. The change was signalled by Harry as he groaned and disentangled himself from her, standing and walking to the door of the bathroom which occupied the prow of the cabin.
For a few moments she tried to stay stubbornly unconscious, but the bed began to rapidly cool now that she was the only one in it. She sighed and stretched, squinting slightly from the sunlight that still streamed over the pillows and stabbed at her eyes. Sitting up, she surveyed the room, taking note of the haphazardness that spoke of them having spent their first night onboard.
'And other things.' she thought, her eyes landing on Harry's shirt that had been tossed across the cabin at random in the previous night's activities. She stood, taking an extra moment to stabilize herself against the slight roll of the ship, and set about tidying the room with a few flicks of her wand before gathering what she would need for the day on the foot of the bed. The bathroom door opened and Harry walked back in, quickly slowing to a stop and staring at her. She stopped too, cocking a hip to one side and staring at her husband as well.
"You have me at a disadvantage, Harry."
"How so?"
"You have a robe on."
"I assure you, the disadvantage is all mine."
She scoffed, though she couldn't help the smile that tempted its way across her lips, closing the distance between them and giving Harry a quick kiss.
"Come on, we do not want to waste the day away here in this little room."
"I suppose so…"
"You brought me to see wonders, my dear husband, so as much as I would enjoy spending the next four days locked in the bedroom with you, that is not what will happen." she pulled back as she spoke and wrapped her arms loosely around Harry's shoulders, her wrists crossed behind his neck.
He let out a put upon sigh, though his grin belied any true disappointment and his eyes twinkled with mischief as they met hers.
"As you wish."
She smiled back at him and pecked him on the cheek. "Indeed, and now I wish for breakfast."
Harry chuckled as she pulled back and moved past him into the bathroom. "I found a few cafes in the city, you can pick one when you're done in there."
She hummed in agreement, closing the door to the bathroom and going about her morning routine, the sound of Harry moving just a few feet away.
~0~
Harry took her to a few places in the city, wandering around the old market in the early morning before they eventually settled on a place to eat. Cafe Eighteen Eighty-Eight, it was a pleasant place south of Mercat Central, it had a light blue facade in the style of a broad apartment with tall white-trimmed windows and wrought iron railings, evoking a sense of lazy spring days and light hearted company. They served light but rich fare, warm sandwiches with eggs, avocado, and soft cheese, and the coffee was freshly ground that morning. They sat at a small round table by the front window, enjoying the food and each others' company before they were due to set sail.
"Getting ideas for things to try at home?"
Harry nodded appreciatively as he mulled over the bite he just took.
"It reminds me of something Luna made with Mrs. Weasley, though the ingredients in this version aren't quite as…"
"Unique?"
"A bit more diplomatic than I was thinking, but yes."
She chuckled, smiling at Harry's rueful grin.
"So, where will we be going today?" she asked, resting her chin on her interlocked fingers, elbows resting on the table in front of her.
"Pensicola, they have a castle there that I would very much like to visit."
She shook her head, groaning in mock despair. "You and your castles, if we were not already married I might be worried that you would leave me for a well-built portcullis."
Harry smirked. "You never know, battlements, gateways, keep walls, I hear they can be very persua-" he was cut off by a chunk of toast hitting him squarely on the nose.
"Go on," Fleur said archly, "continue digging, by all means."
He smiled warmly, holding up his hands in surrender. "No, no, I won't dare risk it. Your father has taught me to fear the wrath of a Veela scorned."
The corner of her mouth lifted up, but she maintained her composure and leaned forward halfway across the table, fixing him with an intense look. "Oh," she said softly, "and have my own efforts to inspire fear done so little?"
Harry leaned forward across the table as well until they were nose to nose, close enough to see the gears turning behind each other's eyes, both landing firmly on mischief.
"Of course not, I am fully aware that you can burn down buildings with a wave of your hand and spear out eyes with your talons," he paused for effect, leaning even closer. "However, I have a unique defense against your ire that renders me completely immune to any permanent harm."
"Oh? Pray tell."
"If you kill me then you won't get anymore of my wonderful sandwiches for lunch in the office, and you wouldn't last a week on cafeteria food."
That brought her up short, and her eyes widened slightly in horror as she recalled the plain sourdough bread and bland peppercorn chowder that had become a staple of the ministry lunchrooms. Harry laughed softly, closing the remaining distance between them and kissing her quickly on the lips while she was distracted, then leaned away and signalled to the young woman working the counter that they were finished, signing the check with a flourish while she sputtered across from him.
The walk back to the boat went quickly. Harry, laden with a cargo of doughnut-like pastries called Bunyols that they bought at the cafe and brought with them, led the way and they arrived back at the magical harbor around ten o'clock. After that their departure from Valencia went smoothly. The magical port authority let them go without any fuss, and soon enough they were sailing out through the tunnel that would lead them out to sea.
"I would love to come back here someday and study the magic of this place," said Fleur, watching the impossible fields and unblemished Valencian hills slip by as they sailed towards the portal back out into the muggle world.
"It's incredible," agreed Harry.
They fell silent for a while, listening to the hum of insects and the chirping of distant birds. A ways to the horizon, behind the archway, Fleur could see a wall of white mist that stretched up from the earth and extended to either side in a great circle, a clouded gate at the edge of the world.
"It was all like this once," she said quietly.
"It was, but there are still things worth seeing even now that all this is gone, changed into something new."
The archway loomed ahead, grey water spanning the divide, and beyond it they could see the white stone embankment and parking lot on the other side of the river; muggle cars like distant insects, beetles of a rainbow of hues.
~0~
"Snap!"
Harry groaned and slumped back in his chair while Fleur smirked at him smugly, tallying another point to her name.
"I swear, Fred and Geore hexed these cards to make me lose," said Harry, his expression an annoyed pout.
"Come now Harry, the cards have exploded often enough to dash both our fortunes." she paused for dramatic effect and waited until he looked up at her, "I am just a better player than you."
As she spoke she drew another card, this one depicting a cackling jester with fiery red hair. The jester danced on the card and jumped, spinning into a dizzying whirlwind. When the wind settled Fleur looked down at her hand in disbelief, then looked over at Harry's in outrage.
"Well," said Harry, shuffling through Fleur's hard fought hand, "it seems I'm more lucky than good today."
"I… That cannot… This is not in the rules of the game!" Fleur said, reaching desperately across the table to try and snatch her cards out of Harry's grip and return the abysmal hand that Jester had given her when it swapped their hands.
"Ah ah, no cheating now, the rules are enchanted into the cards, if it happened then it's part of the game," said Harry smugly, dancing out of her reach.
"They are hexed, you said it yourself!"
"Well, I don't know, Fred and George are good friends, they would never sell us a deliberately faulty product."
"Yes, yes they would, that is exactly the sort of thing they would do!"
Harry reached for the deck, evading Fleur's attempts to stop him, and flipped the final card, a matchless dragon that gave no points to either of them and ended the game. Fleur slumped back in her seat and crossed her arms, glaring at her husband who was busily counting up the points she had earned. He paused and gestured towards her hand encouragingly, "Go on, tally up the points, you might still come in ahead." She glared at him.
"Are you interested in sleeping on the couch?"
"We don't have a couch."
Her brows scrunched in confusion, and she turned around to look over at the lounge area from where she was sitting at the dining table. "What is that, then?"
"That," said Harry archly, "is a luxury futon."
She glared at him harder.
"Alright, alright, I'll stop." said Harry, holding his hands up in surrender.
Fleur grunted, still pouting.
"Come on, let's have some lunch."
She glanced over at a clock on the wall, one in the afternoon. Fleur glanced back down at the cards scattered on the table and felt the flicker of real annoyance that had been building fade away. She stood up and followed him aft into the kitchen where Harry set about making lunch while she watched, occasionally passing him an ingredient or tool, mostly staying out of his way.
"What are you making?"
"I had the idea to make bouillabaisse but that would take too long. It's late enough as it is so I was thinking of doing paninis instead, maybe chicken caprese."
"You know, there is no need to make me bouillabaisse as often as you do."
"I know," said Harry, still focused on the panini press in front of him, "but I like to do it anyway. Little things like that, they help us remember."
"Remember what?"
He glanced back at her over his shoulder with a grin. "Each other, all the little things that make up our lives, things like how I met my wife for the first time when she was raiding my table at school for soup."
Fleur scoffed. "It was hardly a raid."
"Au contraire, you swooped down upon the Gryffindor domain, ambassador of a foreign land, and robbed us of our valued treasures, the foreign delicacy which we had prepared as a gift."
"If it was a gift, then surely it was meant to be given."
"True," admitted Harry
"And I seem to recall that you were the one to give it, monsieur Potter," said Fleur, drawing up behind him and resting her chin on his shoulder as she did so.
"Also true, but I was not the head of house, nor a representative with the power to decide such things. There were others at the table as well. I'm sure Hermione would have loved to try the French cuisine, for instance."
"And Ronald as well, though he was more interested in the people than the food."
Harry grimaced at the memory, shaking his head. "You do remember that he hasn't made a fool of himself around you since before we got married, right?"
"True, but if we are reminiscing…"
He sighed. "Fair enough, but that'll have to wait for a moment, food's ready."
She pulled back from him reluctantly, pulling her wand from her sleeve and flicking it to send plates, cups, and cutlery floating out the door towards the table. They sat and ate, and Fleur thought back over what Harry had said that morning about how he was immune to her wrath for the sake of his sandwiches and, as she tasted the flavors of the caprese bursting across her tongue, she privately agreed.
After lunch and its associated cleanup they settled into the lounge area for some more peaceful relaxation, and also to finish eating the bunyols that Harry had bought earlier. Fleur leaned back on the futon against a plump cushion, lay her feet in Harry's lap with ankles crossed, ignored his raised eyebrow and attempts to get comfortable, and opened up a book she had brought with her from France, a muggle novel from more than two centuries ago that Gabi had said was interesting and given to her last month. She had been recommended the novel by a fellow musician, a violinist in the orchestra, and had passed it onto Fleur with glowing praise. As she opened the first page of Paul et Virginie she was transported away to an island in the sea, a place where man and nature lived as one and harmony was found among the people, and where all the fortress walls of life and upbringing were as nothing but dreams. Her mind dwelled on the thought, and she imagined a great gate of white mist at the edge of the world opening before her to take her to this new and fantastic land. Her eyelids drooped, the book slipped from her fingers, and she Bernardin de St. Pierre's world behind a meager twenty pages in, lured aside by tempting dreams.
A deep, resonant tone sounded through the ship and caused Fleur to stir from where she was reclining on the futon, the book lying forgotten on her chest from where she had been reading and fallen asleep. The tone sounded again and she looked around blearily spotting Harry at the other end of the futon in a position somewhat less graceful but otherwise analogous to her own. The tone sounded a third time and he stirred. His eyes opened and he yawned, shaking his head and bringing himself to full wakefulness just in time to hear the fourth knell.
"What is it?" asked Fleur.
Harry stretched and stood, gesturing for Fleur to follow as he did so. "It's the enchantments letting us know that we're about to reach the end of our planned course, it needs a new heading."
"What will our heading be?"
"None," Harry answered. "We'll need to input multiple headings later on in the voyage, after Barcelona, but for now this just means we're arriving."
Fleur followed Harry up the steps and out of the cabin and began blinking away the white glare of the overcast sky, the water around them reflecting a crisp and silvery grey. Ahead, to the northeast horizon, she could just make out a city of white along the shore and, atop what looked to be an island peak, the tall form of a castle on the sea.
"Welcome to Pensicola," Harry said beside her.
Fleur looked over at her husband, a wide smile growing to match the one that was already on his face as he looked, not at the city, but at her. She felt her heart become lighter, as if the days at sea were giving her spirit wings.
~0~
The harbor was not as grand as that of Valencia, even accounting for the lack of magic in the muggle port they were staying in for the evening, but it had a charm all of its own. Valencia had been grand, a city out of time brought to life by the living history of its people, but Pensicola felt even more vibrant. The city was smaller, everything closer together and more compact. Designed not for automobiles, or even cart and wagon, but almost entirely for pedestrian traffic, the city felt somehow more wondrous with its white walls and narrow lanes, the orange tile roofs contrasting with the sky, now starting to turn blue again as the overcast clouds gave way, to create an image like something from a storybook. A scene from the mind of a child.
She tore her eyes away from the vista of the city in front of her as Harry finished speaking with the officer that had come to speak with them as soon as they had tied off to the dock.
"I thought that Muggles could not see the ship?"
"Not normally," answered Harry, walking up beside her and setting off along the edge of the marina towards the portals through the curtain wall surrounding the castle and surrounding town structure. "But those enchantments are separate from the rest and can be deactivated for times like this. Xàbia, Valencia, and Cadaqués are the only cities on the eastern coast of Spain with magical ports so we needed to be visible. I reserved our spot ahead of time so they were expecting us, just had to show up at the right time and pay the fee."
Fleur hummed in agreement and they carried on, the two of them wending their way through the switchbacks and narrow turns of the old town inside the fort, past wrought iron railings and vibrantly coloured signs which stood out against the stark white of the walls. Soon they arrived at the entrance of the castle proper. Harry sped up slightly, coming to a halt by the arched entrance and turning to face her, holding a hand out towards the structure as if he were presenting it to her and grinning.
"Shall we, my lady?"
She shook her head, smiling at his antics. "Yes we shall, my lord."
The tour took a surprisingly long time. The castle didn't seem very big from the outside, the entire thing could have fit onto the small plateau their house was built upon near Pointe du Bau Rouge, but that small area was filled with all manner of chambers and levels taking them nearly an hour to get through. They stopped for a moment in the inner courtyard, a triangular area with the castle spanning the north, west, and southern sides and the sea to the east, battlements looking over the Mediterranean.
The sun was just starting its descent to the horizon, Apollo's chariot soon to leave. Fleur's legs were starting to ache from all the walking, and from the look on his face Harry's were too. She led him over to a secluded corner and surreptitiously cast a muggle repelling charm on them, along with a minor ward that would conceal them from anyone not within arms reach. Harry, cottoning on, conjured a bench for them to sit on in the shade facing east. They sat, and Fleur tipped her head to rest on his shoulder, leaning into his side.
"What do you think," asked Harry.
"About the castle?"
"Mmhmm."
"I am glad you brought me here."
"My obsession with castles aside?"
She laughed. "Non, that is just another part of you. Besides, it is beautiful here, you chose a good place to visit."
"So, we on for a third date tomorrow?"
She turned towards him, raising an eyebrow.
He shrugged, the motion dislodging her slightly from her comfortable position nestled in his side. "Valencia yesterday, Pensicola today, Barcelona tomorrow, Cadaqués after that. When I was planning all this I tried to imagine a perfect date to take you on for our anniversary, but I couldn't pick which one to do, then I got the idea for the boat and decided to do them all."
The eyebrow fell and she closed her eyes letting her head fall back onto his shoulder, grinning like a loon. "Of course you did. And yes, I believe I can accept a third date from you. And a fourth, and a fifth, and however many more you want to take me on, wherever you want to go," she finished in a whisper, looking up at him from his shoulder, just able to see his eyes in the gap between his cheekbone and glasses. He shifted, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close, resting his head against hers.
"And I will take you with me, for as long as you'll have me, to see the wonders of the world."
They stayed like that for a time, resting in each other's presence and watching the world go by. Fleur was tracking a ship heading south in the distance, a muggle yacht coloured white and green, when Harry spoke up again.
"This place reminds me of Hogwarts, in a way."
She chuckled, rolling her eyes and pulling up to look at him properly. "Harry, everything reminds you of Hogwarts," she said with a smile. Harry's returning one was bittersweet.
"I supposed it does."
She frowned, he was speaking in the way did only when dwelling on old wounds.
"What's wrong?"
He sighed, leaning back against the wall of the fort and pulling her close again. "I've been thinking of the Weasleys. This morning at breakfast, then with the cards, and now a castle, it's bringing back old guilts is all."
She sighed and reached up a hand to grasp his chin, turning him to face her. "Harry, you have nothing to be ashamed of. They understood, they saw how much you were hurting just like everyone else did, they were glad to see you find peace."
He grunted, letting his head fall back and thud softly against the stone. He was quiet for a second before he spoke, "They're my family. When I had nothing else I had them, and whether they understood it or not I still left them behind. And I know they're happy for us in France, you got that through my thick head a long time ago, I just can't help feeling like I should have done more for them. For all they did for me, for all they lost, they deserve it."
"You gave them the chance to rebuild."
He side-eyed her skeptically, but she continued on just as stubbornly as he would have if their positions were reversed.
"For all they lost, you gave them a chance to build anew. For all their pain, you gave them a future where they could have more than ever dreamed of. For all their sacrifice, you made a world where they would be safe to live free from further harm. And for their love, you need not do anything at all. Such things are gifts, given freely and asking nothing in return, and need only to be received," she finished softly.
He nodded, her words a comfort as familiar as the wounds themselves. She said nothing more for a few minutes, watching the thoughts flit past behind Harry's eyes as he stared up into the sky at nothing at all and privately thanking the Weasleys for taking care of Harry long enough for her to meet him. Eventually he relaxed, the nearly imperceptible tension in his shoulders giving way, and he looked at her again.
"Thank you," he said, not smiling but looking at her with an expression of such surpassing gratitude that she knew it meant much more than this one moment on this one day.
"Always," she responded, willing him to understand the meaning that mere words could not convey. He did, and he smiled once again.
~0~
Dinner that night was simpler than the day before. They wandered the streets and alleyways surrounding the castle in search of something that would strike their fancy, eventually settling on a small pizzeria named La Lanterna in the heart of the city around the castle, behind the curtain wall. They bought a margherita pizza to share and told stories old and new and laughing to the past at the small rear table in the warmly lit dining room of the corner-front restaurant, blind to the world.
"So then, halfway through Aimeé's explanation of how the duck got stuck in the ceiling, we heard a loud bang from the potions lab and saw iridescent smoke come billowing out of the doorway in a great cloud," said Fleur, struggling to speak through her constant giggling. "So I ran over as quick as I could, wand out and ready for anything, when out of the fog loomed two shapes of men, lumbering like great trees about to fall. I cast a ventilation charm and banished the smoke only to discover the shapes were Laurens and Fournier, dressed in all the right protective gear, goggles, masks, and gloves on, but nothing to cover their hair, and entirely splattered in the potion, the whole room splashed in lurid, ever shifting hues."
Harry leaned over in his seat, clutching the table as he fought, and lost, to contain his laughter. Fleur was no better, the image of Christopher Laurens immaculate hair and moustache not only painted in rainbows but plastered back like a mad scientist from muggle cartoon firmly fixed in her mind, alongside the expression of equal astonishment and befuddlement that had been so firmly etched on both his and Fournier's faces.
"We stood there like fools, staring at each other with slack jaws while the whole department crowded around behind me, and then we started laughing, every single one of us paralyzed with mirth," Fleur finished weakly. "It was the first time in a month that anyone in that department smiled, a month after Charles' experiment with the array went wrong."
Harry shook his head, still smiling. "The way you tell it, they remind me a bit of Teddy."
She snorted into her sip of wine, a dry white, and almost sprayed it everywhere. "How?" she choked out, holding a hand to her mouth and struggling not to choke on the Godello.
He chuckled, struggling to speak without laughing but eventually regaining his composure. "Do- Do you remember when Teddy was five, when he got away from us at home when we were supposed to be watching him?"
She nodded, recalling many such incidents where the inevitably curious young boy had managed to get himself into trouble in ways that were seemingly entirely novel to humankind.
"We were panicking," continued Harry, fighting ever harder to keep his laughter in, "searching outside for fear he had wandered off to the cliffs or down to the beach, and then you heard a crash from down in the kitchen."
Fleur's eyes lit up and she nodded, recalling the specific incident Harry was referring to. "I ran down the stairs three at a time and found him in the kitchen trying to make bread."
Harry nodded grandly, wiping tears of mirth from the corners of his eyes. "In less than half an hour he had managed to make fifty pounds of the most elastic dough I've ever seen, used up all our flour, all our eggs, half our stock of olive oil, five pounds of sugar, and every bit of yeast in the pantry," he paused to laugh and take a breath, regulating his breathing with a struggle before bursting into wheezes of laughter an instant later.
"And then he wanted it to go faster, and his accidental magic responded by heating it and speeding up the development of the yeast. Fifty pounds of dough inflating like a hot air balloon."
"It filled half the kitchen," said Fleur, wheezing.
"Just like Laurens and Fournier," said Harry. Then he forcibly calmed himself and looked her in the eye, somehow managing to effect a straight face through what she assumed was an act of inhuman force of will.
"Who knows, maybe our little five year-old was a celebrated potions master in disguise and that was just the latest step on the road to curing dragonpox."
She goggled at him, and for a brief moment he maintained his serious expression, then the pair of them collapsed into fits of laughter once again. They stayed that way for a while, giggling and chuckling uncontrollably even through the waiter coming up beside them and taking away their plates, leaving the dessert menu in their place. Eventually they settled down, occasionally snorting, mostly exhausted from the sheer effort of laughter.
"I think you are right Harry," she said weakly, "our ten year old son is exactly the same as my seventy year old coworkers who have more than a century of experience between them."
"Indubitably," Harry concluded.
Fleur coughed, her throat too sore to giggle, and then went silent while they let their bodies adjust to the state of rest. The waiter came back and Harry ordered a Crema Catalana for them to share, by the time it arrived she had recovered enough to appreciate the delightful custard, as well as the fresh raspberries and syrup drizzled over the top. It wasn't nearly as sophisticated as the night before, she wore no dress and there was no Maître D, but as she walked back to the boat, hand in hand with the love of her life, she couldn't help but smile and think that today had been a perfect day.
'Although,' she reflected, seeing the boat come into view around the corner and thinking back to her purchase from the day before, 'it is not over just yet.'
She quickened her pace pulling Harry along by the hand, looking back over her shoulder as they neared the boat and seeing his smile, feeling her own grow to match, glad more than ever to be here with him.
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. The Links are still being incredibly frustrating, so no proper links this time. I will include the story code for the recommendation, just tack it on to the URL for FFN.
Fanfic Recommendation: A Love Song from Paris by somerandomindianbloke, excellent 6k word oneshot set after the war: /s/13842180/1/267