Disclaimer: Nothing is mine; everything is J K Rowling's.
The Fleur chapter you were all waiting for, and this time it seems I don't even have to be sarcastic for that to be true.
Chapter 43
Fleur draped herself along the length of the branch, their branch, and tried to listen to the wind instead of her thoughts, spinning her locket around her finger on its chain.
The wind chose that moment to die down, and the browning leaves of the willow tree fell silent.
Fleur listened to the soft noise of the water instead, watching the fallen leaves flowing along its surface, but her distraction didn't last long, just as it hadn't for any of the last hour she'd been sitting, or lying, or hanging or standing on the branch.
Harry is coming soon.
He would be here, he always came when they agreed to return here, to their spot. Fleur wasn't sure how she would react to seeing him. Her father had suggested that she subscribe to the Daily Prophet, just so she had some insight into what was happening in Britain. She knew, of course, that it was largely lies, truths twisted to suit the purpose of the Ministry, and that Harry had never told her what it said because he didn't want her to read it and see what it said about him.
Fleur had subscribed all the same, she wanted, needed, to know what was happening to him, what they were saying about him. She couldn't help him with it otherwise.
The first few papers had barely mentioned him, their subjects of slander were Albus Dumbledore's supporters, but then Friday's paper had arrived and she'd found Harry on the front page. She'd shifted halfway to her other form in an instant and not calmed down enough to change back for an hour.
How could he do something like that?
She was going to kill him when he turned up, and then they were going to talk. Fleur wasn't making the mistake of avoiding speaking to him about anything important again.
Tapping the folded up Prophet with her fingers she waited for the conjured silver numbers of her tempus charm to shift slowly towards the time they agreed to meet and struggled to ignore the soft heat of her anger that urged her to let her body shift.
With a soft snap Harry appeared under the willow tree.
Right on time. He better have a good explanation.
Fleur threw the Daily Prophet at him catching him on the shoulder, then leapt down out of the tree.
'What did you do?' She demanded, pointing a finger at the paper projectile.
'When did you start reading the Daily Prophet?' Harry asked, glancing down at it with obvious concern.
'Since you stopped telling me what was happening in Britain,' Fleur responded, swiping the paper from the floor.
'You're angry,' Harry said quietly.
'Of course I'm angry,' she retorted in french, doing her best to prevent the shape of her face from shifting. She could feel the instinct to restructure herself stronger, to let her body react to her anger, but she resisted it again. This was not how she wanted Harry to first see her change.
'I sort of knew you would be,' he continued, just as evenly, 'but I hoped you'd understand.'
'Understand,' she cried, her cheekbones lengthening under her skin. 'You impaled this Malfoy with four inch spikes of ice, why?'
Harry didn't reply straight away, he looked at her, at the willow tree and the river, then up at the outline of the moon, a bitter, expectant smile tracing across his face.
'Because I wanted to,' he replied simply. 'He was there, running his mouth like normal, while Katie was hurt because of his lackey Crabbe. He deserved it.'
He did it because someone hurt Katie Bell.
Her Fleur knew that he would protect his friends, that he wouldn't let anyone or anything hurt them and go unpunished, but he'd nearly killed the other student for her and it worried her just a little that he was so devoted to the girl.
'I would have done it for you,' he told her fiercely, reading her thoughts from her face, 'if it had been you with broken fingers and ribs, I would have done far worse.'
'You seriously injured a student in front of that Umbridge woman, the one you know would take any chance to act against you. You could not have done anything worse!' Her temper returned, more potent than before. He did not seem to understand how reckless he had been. She could feel the prickling of feathers along her forearms under her robes.
'I was angry,' Harry responded, his tone was growing slightly cool. 'All the insults Umbridge threw at you, the things she inflicted on children, Katie getting hurt, I can't keep my temper forever.'
'You were angry, so you did that?'
'She is mutilating children,' Harry declared coldly, 'forcing them to slice words into their own skin, would you not be angry? Or do you expect me to be some perfect paragon of virtue because I'm called the Boy-Who-Lived?'
His whole stance had shifted from when he first arrived. The easy, open, relaxed air was gone, replaced by a tense, closed off coldness. Fleur squeezed her fists tightly together, thinking furiously. She could see his doubt, his expectation that she would now turn her back on him, and the first steps of his immediate attempts to cut her out first, just so it hurt less when she left.
'I don't know what you want me to be,' Harry whispered.
'I want you to be Harry,' Fleur told him, stepping closer. 'I don't care what else you become, what you do, or what you don't, as long as you are Harry, my Harry, I won't care.'
'No matter what?' He seemed surprised and shaken, his voice coming out hoarse.
'My father thinks that me being with you is dangerous,' Fleur admitted, 'he told me that either you're not what you seem, or I'll be standing next to Voldemort's first target. He is worried about the English pure-blood obsession too.'
Harry visibly shrank into himself for a moment, then he looked her in the eyes and straightened up. 'We can stay a secret,' he decided, 'nobody ever has to know about us, you'll be safe in France from any of them if there's no connection to me.'
'Let me finish,' she snapped, irritated that he'd even consider hiding her away while he risked himself. 'I thought about what papa said, it's why I subscribed to the Daily Prophet, and I came to a realisation when I read that article today.'
'What did you realise?' There a desperate, clinging fear in his bright green eyes and Fleur knew instantly that he was more afraid of losing her than anything else. Their bond meant as much to him as it did to her, everything would be so much less without it.
'I didn't care,' Fleur told him quietly. 'I didn't care what you had done, you could have killed him and I would still have only been worried about you provoking the Ministry's lapdog.'
'That's why you're angry,' he smiled, relieved. 'I hoped that would be why, but when you threw the paper at me, I was so afraid I was wrong. I thought you were disgusted with what I did.'
'You're an idiot,' she switched back to English, pushing him back into the tree. 'Why would I care what happens to any of those small-minded people? English bigots. Not one of them understands me like you do, none of them ever cared about me as much as you do.'
Fleur traced her fingers down the side of the face, smiling when he shivered, letting her fingertips linger on his skin.
'I don't like that you defended Katie Bell so fiercely,' she murmured, 'you're mine, but I know you won't let anyone harm your friends and I don't care what you do to those that do.'
'Katie is just a friend,' Harry cut in, but she placed a finger on his lips. She didn't need him to interrupt her, not when she had worked up the courage to open herself up so much.
'I care that you were stupid enough to do that in front of people. I care that you got yourself banned from playing a sport that you love. I care that you gave that pathetic rag of paper another piece of slander to throw at you.' The Daily Prophet ignited in her left hand, her conjured fire reducing it to ashes in the space of seconds. 'I'm not going to abandon you,' she told him, 'not now, not ever.'
'Not even if I told you what I've done?'
Her fingers flinched away from his face.
'As long as you're my Harry, I won't care,' she repeated, trying to ignore the fear that he might have slipped, that perhaps Katie Bell might have meant more than to him than he said.
He knew, straight away, what she meant and reached out to catch her hand and pull him against her, shaking his head.
'No,' he told her, kissing her forehead gently. Fleur didn't need any more reassurance than that, and a flood of relief flowed through her.
He's still mine.
It almost worried her how attached to Harry she had become. She supposed that the absence of any close bonds outside of her family made the one she had all the more important. If something ever broke it she feared how much it would hurt, her heart contracted in panic at the very idea of its loss, but as long as he was hers nothing would mean as much to her.
'I took revenge,' he admitted, but he didn't sound very regretful, just very satisfied. 'When I asked you about enchanting it was so I could take my vengeance on Umbridge. I'm going to make her suffer before I'm finished with her.' There was something cruel and determined about the way he said it and Fleur knew that he would get what he wanted.
Good, she decided. She deserves it.
The idea of Gabrielle being forced to harm herself because of that foul woman made her bones hot with anger. It made them feel soft, malleable to her magic, easy to bend and reshape into the form of a predator.
'I'm not so selfless as I used to be, Fleur, I used to put everyone before myself, but I can't see things that way anymore, not for just anyone.' He twisted his lips in consternation. 'Things are complicated now,' he said finally. 'It used to just be Voldemort, the Death-Eaters, and everyone else, but that's not true at all. There's a million individuals trying to get what they want, and I'm just one of them.'
'What do you want?' Fleur asked.
'So many things,' he laughed, 'but really, honestly,' for a second he looked horribly vulnerable, 'I want to mean something to someone, to be something important to them.'
She didn't need to see any of the desperate desire in his eyes, or the longing in his voice to know just how much she must mean to him if he thought that Fleur was that someone.
'What would you do to have that?' She had to ask.
Harry gave her a very long, very soft look. 'Anything I had to,' he admitted quietly.
'Then you'll be more careful next time you want to curse someone, won't you?' Fleur teased, letting him slide his hands around her.
He kissed her very gently, slipping a hand onto the back of her neck to keep her lips against his.
'I was afraid that you wouldn't understand,' he murmured, pulling back from the kiss.
'You are still an idiot,' she sighed. 'Do you think I am any different?' He didn't answer, just shrugged and looked away uncomfortably. 'You mean just as much to me as I do to you, Harry,' she pulled his face back round to look at her, 'when I have finished my exams at Beauxbatons this winter I will spend every second making sure you stay mine.'
'And how will you do that?'
'We'll get stronger,' she told him, 'we'll get so powerful that nobody will ever be able to take what we want away.'
'It isn't that simple,' Harry said sadly. 'There are so many things we need to know that we don't.'
'We'll discover them,' she assured him. 'Between us we'll learn enough to set ourselves free from everyone else. Nobody will be able to control us, we'll spend our lives doing what we want, where we want, with each other.'
'Isn't it a little early to say things like that?' He was smiling at her again, a teasing glint in his eye. 'We've only been together for a few months.'
'Are we going to fast for you, Harry?' She breathed, leaning in close, touching the tip of her nose to his, and brushing her lips over his. 'I suppose I should stop-'
Everything else she had been intending to say was cut off when Harry kissed her hard, slipping her around and crushing his lips into hers, pressing her back into the tree and himself into her. His hands were in her hair, drifting to her hips, and running over her shoulders up to her cheeks to cup her face.
It was hot with his passion, and incredibly sweet. Fleur found herself melting into his lips, disappearing into the touch of his tongue on the underside of her upper lip.
Harry pulled back and she let out a soft moan of disappointment. He laughed and she flushed violently, then dragged his mouth back down to hers, where it belonged.
'Now,' she told him, pushing him back and stepping away from the trunk of the tree, 'I want to see what you can do. The Daily Prophet spent so much time talking about this dark curse you used that I want to see it for myself.'
A smirk spread across his lips, and he shook his head. 'I have a better idea,' he grinned. 'You know how to duel, don't you?'
'Of course,' Fleur sniffed. Everyone at Beauxbatons learnt a bit about how to duel in their last two years. 'You want to duel,' she realised.
He nodded. 'Not here, though.'
'You will lose,' she told him archly. 'I am a good duellist.'
'I need the practice,' Harry shrugged, 'but you should know better than to tell me you'll beat me. You said you'd win the Triwizard Tournament too.'
'I would have done if Voldemort's follower hadn't interfered,' she declared. Harry was a powerful wizard, but experience was invaluable when duelling, and she knew he couldn't have much, if any. Fleur's magic was not as suited to duelling as it was to more subtle magics, but it was certainly no weaker than any others, especially when it came to casting spells with a fire element medium. Harry would not know what hit him.
'Let's go back to the chateau,' she decided, taking a grip on his arm.
'It's going to take a while to get used to that,' Harry remarked. He always seemed to find the idea of her living in a chateau amusing, even though it was far from France's most elegant home.
Fleur pictured the entrance hall of her home and pushed the world back past them until they were standing where she had imagined them amongst Gabby's shoes.
'Are your parents home?'
'Not today, not until late,' Fleur told him, 'there is an event in Paris that they are attending together.' She took his hand and led him around the main staircase to the smaller second set of steps and down towards the basement.
'Do you have a dungeon?' Harry asked, smiling brightly. 'Please tell me you do.'
'No,' Fleur answered, 'we have a basement that is partly a wine-cellar, and partly empty. Maman used to brew potions down there, but when they enlarged the shop in Carcassonne she no longer needed to. Gabby and I use it occasionally, normally for practicing magic since it's warded quite extensively.'
'What are the rules?'
'Normal duelling rules,' Fleur answered simply. Harry raised an eyebrow, so she embellished. 'Nothing more dangerous than a stunner, no stepping out of the ring, and no speaking except for spell incantations. I want to see the curse you used on Malfoy first, though.'
The basement was typical of a wine cellar with a high, vaulted ceiling and an earthy, musty smell. Fleur had come down here as a child to explore and play games amongst the bottles, or to watch her mother brew, often dragging an uninterested Gabrielle with her.
She led Harry well past the wine racks and the vulnerable glass bottles into the farthest room and shut the door behind them. Fleur knew all too well that a stray spell could easily slip through the open door and shatter an expensive vintage; the bottles weren't warded or charmed.
'Show me,' she ordered. The paper had made it sound like quite a powerful piece of magic. He'd avoided showing her his fire spell, the one strong enough to burn through the hedges of the maze when most other spells spattered harmlessly off their leaves. Fleur wanted to see this one.
Harry drew himself up, adopting a serious, focused expression and slid his wand from his sleeve. He looked quite ridiculous and Fleur stifled a giggle at his pompous expression.
'Aguamenti,' he intoned dramatically, and a small stream of water burst from the tip of his wand to spatter on the floor. Fleur shot him her hardest glare, caught between laughter and the desire to singe the smug smile off his face.
'That's the spell I used,' he protested, when she drew her wand threateningly. 'I promise.'
'Then show me what you did to it.' He was being difficult again, just like with the fire spell he wouldn't show her.
'What will you do it I don't?' Harry asked.
'I'll tell Gabrielle about the photos in the Room of Requirement,' Fleur answered sweetly. Her little sister would not leave Harry alone until she had the full story, every romantic aspect would need to be explored in detail. He paled slightly.
'That seems a little harsh,' he mused, but raised his wand.
This time, instead of pulling a silly pose, his face hardened and his eyes slowly turned chillingly cold. Fleur could feel, very faintly, the way his magic flowed and twisted though his wand.
'Aguamenti,' he hissed, and there was icy anger in his tone.
The water sprayed across the room against the wall, sharp chunks of ice smashing against the sandstone with the sound of breaking glass.
'How did you do that?' She asked, staring at the pieces of ice. 'That's a simple conjuring spell, not a curse.'
'I told you,' he replied confusedly, 'I was angry.'
'You only meant to drench him with water, didn't you?' Fleur realised.
'I let my emotions get the best of me,' Harry admitted, 'and the ice was the result, though he deserved it all the same.'
Fleur walked over to the jagged fragments and poked them with her toe. They were thick, sharp-edged and the width and length of her palm. He'd turned a simple, school level, conjuration into something lethal. She had no idea that strong emotions could have such an effect on magic. Every wizard and witch knew that their feelings could affect the intent of a spell, that was why they were taught to clear their minds before casting, to ensure their focus was on the spell. Fleur had never heard of emotions doing anything but disrupting the intent and causing the magic to fail.
'I've never seen anything quite like it,' she murmured.
'You haven't?' He seemed upset by that, as if he thought he'd done something wrong.
'It's brilliant,' she told him proudly, 'dangerous, but brilliant.' She poked the pieces once more, admiring them. 'You need to be able to control and channel your emotions,' she decided. 'I'm not duelling you seriously until you can. I don't want to end up like Malfoy,' she smirked.
Harry's wand disappeared into his sleeve before she could blink, as if he was somehow afraid that just by holding it she might be hurt. That needed to be nipped in the bud.
'When does it happen?' Fleur asked him gently. Harry didn't need to be afraid of hurting her, they would still eventually be practicing duelling together, it had been a good idea.
'When I'm angry,' Harry responded quietly. 'I don't know why it happens.'
'It's a good thing, Harry,' she insisted, 'once you've learnt how to control it you'll have an unpredictable ability, that's perfect for duelling.'
'I can't control it,' he replied. 'If I'm really angry, and forget to use my occlumency techniques to clear my mind and focus, it just happens. I never know what will happen.'
'So think of something that makes you angry,' Fleur suggested, 'then try every spell you know a few times until you're aware of the outcomes. I'll help,' she promised.
'Maybe,' Harry responded tentatively. Fleur knew immediately that if he ever did consciously attempt to use his emotions to manipulate his intent it would not be while she was there.
Idiot, she thought, both exasperated and fond.
'Let's go somewhere,' Fleur decided. 'Somewhere nice.' She wanted to take his mind off this, off their argument, no matter how nicely it had ended.
'Where?'
'I know a place in Paris,' Fleur assured him, 'but we need to go kidnap Gabby first.'
'We do?' Harry's smile was back.
'I promised her that we'd go there with her, it's our favourite place, and she's been lonely at Beauxbatons with me always coming to see you.' Fleur had also made Gabby promise to be good, or at least as good as Gabrielle ever managed. She wouldn't be throwing her allure around at Harry, or pestering them about their romance.
'How are we going to kidnap her?' Harry asked, clearly he found the idea quite entertaining.
Fleur pulled the portkey she had made for herself out of her robes and waved it at him. Madame Maxime generally allowed her to do as she pleased, especially as she had finished learning what Beauxbatons could teach her. It was likely she'd get into a bit of trouble for stealing her baby sister without asking first, but Fleur had been scolded before.
'Doesn't Beauxbatons have anti-portkey wards?' Harry wondered.
'Of course it does,' Fleur enthused, proud of herself, 'only a member of staff can create a portkey to the school.' Harry raised an eyebrow. 'Aren't you going to ask me how I did it?' Fleur prompted.
'How did you achieve this most brilliant and noteworthy accomplishment, ma cherie?' Harry begged, the teasing glint returned to his eyes.
'I created a portkey to the willow tree while on Beauxbatons grounds that would return me to wherever I had come from. Yours does the same. How did you think it bypassed Hogwarts' wards?' His teasing was not enough to touch the pride she took in managing to achieve something so simple and clever.
He shrugged. 'It's never had to actually take me past the wards,' he revealed. 'I portkey to and from a place that's outside of them.'
'You might as well just apparate,' Fleur sniffed. 'It's a waste of my enchantment.'
'I'm sure it will come in very useful,' Harry grinned, patting her sympathetically on the back, 'but I'd rather not have to explain to Dumbledore where I keep vanishing off to when Voldemort might be lurking in every broom cupboard.'
Fleur supposed that was fair. Hogwarts might have wards to keep track of it students comings and goings, something Beauxbatons couldn't feasibly use, since many of its older students were traditionally allowed to leave the grounds upon earning positions of responsibility, and it was generally accepted that they'd take their siblings or younger friends with them.
'Let's go,' Fleur decided. 'Come here, Harry,' she said coyly, extending her arm, and smiling slightly when instead of holding it he linked his through hers.
'Argent,' she murmured, and they were standing in her room. Harry had seen it before, it was the first thing she had turned the Room of Requirement into, but that wasn't quite the same as having him actually standing here.
'I remember that picture,' he smiled, gesturing at the image of her and Gabrielle that stood at the end of one of her shelves. Her sister was smiling delightedly, waving at them out of the frame, while her own image stared curiously at Harry, who returned Gabby's wave with a small smile.
'Where's your sister?' Harry inquired. 'Do we have to sneak through Beauxbatons?' He seemed quite excited by the prospect.
'Well if we were anyone else we could just walk and nobody would think twice,' Fleur began, 'but since you're famous and I am who I am, it'd be best to disillusion ourselves.'
'Will she scream if we grab her while we're invisible?'
'Not anymore,' Fleur smirked, 'she's used to it. If she knows I'm coming she'll feel for my magic and grab me instead.'
'Does she know we're coming?'
'No,' Fleur smiled. 'Follow me.'
She led Harry out of her room, taking his hand and pausing only to disillusion themselves, then down the corridor in the direction of Gabrielle's favourite spot. Lessons had ended by now, so Gabby would have gone where she always went when she was on her own, a balcony on the floor above that overlooked the Pyrenees.
Fleur could sense his magic, flowing and swirling in its own unique way, a little to her left her as they walked, fingers intertwined, down the mostly empty corridor towards the stairs.
'I prefer Hogwarts,' she heard him whisper provocatively. 'Beauxbatons is beautiful, but it doesn't quite seem as magical.'
'You are biased, Beauxbatons is far more elegant and just as magical,' Fleur whispered back. 'Hogwarts is grey, draughty and has that horrible forest.'
Harry squeezed her hand affectionately and she heard him laugh quietly. 'You haven't seen half of the horrors of that forest.'
Fleur disagreed, but not aloud. She didn't need Harry worrying about her unnecessarily and telling him that Gabrielle had found burnt skeleton would definitely kill the upbeat mood. That conversation could wait for another, more morbid time.
'Gabby's out there,' Fleur raised there joined hands in the direction of the door at the far end from the top of the stairs. 'The door leads out over the buttress to a small balcony, nobody else ever goes there.'
The door creaked loudly when Fleur pushed it, and her sister's silver hair swirled when she snapped her head round. Gabrielle closed her eyes for a moment, then she broke out into a wide smile.
'Fleur, and you brought Harry too.' She looked around carefully, then frowned. 'I can only see where Fleur is.' Gabrielle stepped forwards and hugged her, and Harry let go of her hand, dispelling his disillusionment.
'Gabrielle,' he smiled. Her baby sister gave him a similarly warm greeting, but remembered this time that directing her allure at him would get her clothes scorched.
'You were right next to Fleur,' she pouted. 'How could I not see you?'
'My Disillusionment Charm is better than hers,' he grinned, throwing her a challenging look over her little sister's shoulder.
'Why are you here?' Gabby chirped. 'Am I being kidnapped again?'
'This is a regular thing?' Harry asked, amused.
'Beauxbatons is boring,' Gabby grinned. 'I always get Fleur to come and rescue me and take me somewhere more fun. Normally we go to Carcassonne or Paris.'
'Paris,' Fleur cut in, 'we're going to your favourite place in all of France.' Gabrielle's eyes lit up and she all but dragged Harry across to Fleur, clutching his arm and grabbing Fleur's hand.
'Let's go,' Gabby enthused. 'I've been craving meringues all day.'
Fleur retrieved Harry from her sister's grip, linking arms with him, and adjusting her grip on Gabrielle. 'Do you remember your promise?' Fleur murmured to her sister.
'Of course I do,' Gabby sulked. 'No trying to charm Fleur's boyfriend, she gets overly tetchy about it.' Gabrielle grinned at her mischievously. 'You never made me promise not to tell him about you.'
'I made you promise to be good,' Fleur reminded her. 'If one word of the things I said to you about Harry comes out of you I'm going to burn every pair of shoes you own.' To her surprise her sister only looked mildly horrified and slightly calculating, as if she was trying to judge whether it would be worth it. 'Don't even consider it,' she warned.
'Are we going?' Harry was trying not to laugh, he clearly had better hearing than she realised.
'We're going,' Fleur nodded, and side-long apparated them all onto the cobbles of Paris opposite a quaint little restaurant.
'Welcome to Madam Antoinette's,' Gabby grinned. 'It has the best desserts in all of Paris and most of France, we've checked.'
The tiny restaurant was as quiet as normal, not many wizards or witches bothered to apparate all the way out to the edge of Paris' magical district just for a dessert. Gabrielle had slipped out of Fleur's grasp and made her way to their normal table, tucked away into the back of the restaurant where they couldn't be seen so easily and their allure less noticeable.
The owner, a small, stout man wearing the same chocolate-stained chef's coat as always, looked up, slightly dazed, when they entered after Gabby.
'I thought this was Madam Antoinette's?' Harry asked, curiously as they joined her little sister, who was already proffering menus in their direction in an attempt to hurry them into ordering.
'It's a very bad joke,' Fleur explained. 'The owner is muggle-born and doesn't realise that most wizards won't understand, of course he does make wonderful food, so we have forgiven him.'
'They're out of meringues,' Gabby announced very unhappily. 'I shall have to have Clafoutis instead.'
'What an unbearable situation for you, Gabby,' Fleur smirked.
'I wanted meringues,' she sulked, 'they're sweeter.' Harry raised an eyebrow and Fleur smiled, answering the question he hadn't quite asked.
'It's not a veela thing, just a Delacour one.' She turned a pointed look on her baby sister. 'Gabby is the worst of all of us.'
'I am not,' she denied. 'Everyone knows Fleur is the worst,' she told Harry, particularly cheerfully. 'She once ate a whole box of icing sugar in the middle of the night.'
'I remember having a significant amount of help eating that,' Fleur reminded her sister, who had the grace to blush.
'And there's fact you have honey for breakfast,' Gabby finished triumphantly.
'Lot's of people eat honey for breakfast,' Fleur remarked, smiling. They'd had this argument before.
'I have honey for breakfast when it's available,' Harry agreed.
'Fleur eats it out of the jar,' Gabby crowed, 'with a tablespoon.'
'That is unusual,' Harry grinned. 'I think Gabrielle might be right.'
Fleur shrugged, unrepentant. She'd never been able to resist sweet things, they just tasted too good. 'You should be grateful for my love of sweet things, Harry,' she reminded him. 'If I did not love dessert wine so much our evening at the Yule Ball might have ended very differently.'
Harry flushed and Gabby squeaked with embarrassment, her face flaming violently from behind her menu.
'Fleur,' she gasped. 'You didn't?!'
'Didn't what?'
Gabby shifted, glancing at Harry. 'You know,' her eyes flashed with mischief, and the flush rose further up her face as she giggled suggestively.
'No!' It was Harry who realised what she meant first and answered, looking anywhere but at Fleur. 'She kissed me under the mistletoe,' the teasing light surfaced, 'then she ran away.'
'I did not run away,' Fleur denied proudly, a blush of her own beginning to rise. Gabby was giggling madly on the other side of the table from her and she was sorely tempted to stamp on her feet again. Her sister was the one who had started this conversation.
Their conversation was fortunately interrupted by the owner, who came across to ask what they might fancy.
Harry had chosen the Clafoutis, and Fleur got what she always did when they came here, the religieuse, but Gabby stubbornly asked for meringues, even going so far as to direct her allure at the owner to get what she wanted. Fleur did stamp on her toes for that, she should know better than to use her allure in such a manner.
Gabrielle sulked for a few minutes when Fleur ordered the Clafoutis for her as well, but cheered up immediately when it arrived. Cherries were her favourite fruit.
AN: Please read and review, thanks to everyone who does.
