Disclaimer: Nothing is mine; everything is J K Rowling's.

The next chapter is here, a rare Fleur chapter!

Also, there might be some explicit moments in this chapter, so if you're easily offended, below eighteen (or whichever age is applicable), then read on at your own peril etc etc

Of course there may just be fruit again ;)

Chapter 56

Fleur had not missed Beauxbatons, not even when she left after her exams ended. The beautiful chateau with its, turrets, towers, galleries and stained glass windows was breathtaking. It clung to the mountains, poised delicately across the summit of a smaller peak, framed between the pine-covered sides of its larger neighbours. For all its spectacular splendour the castle had become cold to her, just as the students were.

She felt very sorry for Gabrielle. It was cruel that her little sister had to return here and watch as the galleries and gardens that had once housed such good memories were poisoned by solitude.

It would be worse for her softer, more empathetic sister than it had been for her. Gabby could not learn to stop caring, she would always know how those around her felt, and it would affect her for the entirety of her life.

When Fleur's friends had first begun to leave her behind, Gabrielle had come to take their place, when their distant pity had turned to jealousy, her sister's support had already been evident, and when they tried to avoid her because they disliked what she had become, Gabby had come to find her. Fleur would do her best to do the same, but there were so many other directions she was being pulled in at the same time.

'Your final exam was this morning,' her mother commented, drifting into the kitchen, bypassing the fruit bowl and it's collection of rather disappointing looking lemons. 'I take it that it went well since I find you down here, rather than being pent up in your room.'

'It went as well I needed,' Fleur shrugged elegantly, 'if not as well as I wanted.'

'Which one was it? Advanced Transfiguration and Conjuration?'

'Yes,' she nodded.

'It was never your strongest subject,' the older veela smiled, 'but you are still good at it.'

'It is more Harry's gift than mine,' Fleur agreed. She had only needed to conjure a goose and then transfigure it into a vase, a difficult, but standard request for the exam.

'He is better than you?' Her mother pursed her lips disbelievingly.

'Oh yes,' Fleur smiled faintly, recalling quite vividly the swarm of butterflies, a spell he had created himself, and the shattering of her Shield Charm. 'I could teach him years of lessons about enchanting and warding, but when it comes to transfiguring, duelling and likely most charms he will naturally exceed me.'

'At fifteen,' her maman muttered, shaking her head. 'At least you chose someone who would not be eclipsed by you,' she decided. 'If you are as successful this year as you have been every previous one then you will be Beauxbatons best student in almost two centuries.'

'It will only last until Gabrielle graduates,' Fleur laughed. 'She is determined to outdo me.'

'She will have plenty of time to study,' her mother said solemnly.

'Yes, she will,' Fleur agreed quietly, reminded of what she had been thinking of only moments before.

Her mother crossed the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee, waving her wand absentmindedly at different parts of the kitchen and waiting as her drink came to fruition in front of her. Gabrielle wasn't allowed to use magic to make her drinks anymore, she had a tendency to make mistakes which either made a vast mess or create an unstomachable concoction.

'Have you thought about what you will do now?'

'I have, maman,' Fleur told her, pulling her wand out to summon the letter she had received a few days ago down from her room. 'I applied to join the Bureau des Énigmes, and Gringott's offered me a job as a liaison between themselves and some of the private artefact recoverers.'

'Gringotts?' Fleur started in surprise when her father ducked into the room. She had expected him to be at work in Paris. 'That's an interesting coincidence.'

'You're home early, mon cherie,' her mother remarked. 'Was it a particularly good day, or a particularly bad one?'

'A good day,' he announced cheerfully. 'There was a miscommunication with whoever was arranging the portkeys for the other heads of departments and they all ended up somewhere in Sardinia rather than Paris. I was the only one missing from the meeting, so they had it without me.'

'Didn't you need to be present?' Her mother inquired.

'Oh not even slightly,' her father laughed. 'I'm the vice-président for the Bureau des Affaires Internationales, it was Henri who had to go and sort things out, I am glad that I am not the président. He had to cancel his entire afternoon in the vineyards and hurry off to somewhere in Sardinia while I did some interesting research on English magical nobility.'

'Papa,' Fleur admonished, frowning furiously at him. 'What sort of research?'

'Harry clearly has little knowledge of his family and its history,' her father responded seriously, 'he needs to know about things like this. You know how important it can be. I did a little bit of investigating though the outpost of Gringotts in Paris. The only wizarding bank is England is Gringotts, so they would have the most accurate records I could easily see.'

'The goblins do not share information on their clients for no reason,' her mother remarked, sipping her coffee.

'No,' her father replied hesitantly. 'I may have had to follow through the first steps of legal action against him to find out what I wanted.'

'You what?!' Fleur did not even try and resist the impulse to let herself change, but she was only halfway through shifting into her more dangerous form, before her father began to explain and she had to listen again.

'I didn't take any action, and the goblins will be discreet, they simply wanted me to have to pay them for the information by way of acting as legal advisors for a case that will never exist. I was rather hoping that you would invite Harry hear to join us. I expect he would like to learn this, and he should really be the first person I tell.'

'He is in school, papa,' Fleur reminded her father.

'He's been visiting you at all hours of the day throughout your suspension,' he chuckled. 'I'm sure he will come if you ask, especially if you tell him that it's about his family.'

'I will ask,' Fleur agreed. It would be nice to see Harry again, they hadn't done anything more than speak though the lockets she had enchanted since her exams had begun almost two weeks ago.

She wandered out of the kitchen, drifting up the stairs towards her room while she waited for Harry to respond.

'Fleur?' he answered inquiringly after a moment. 'I was about to go to one of my classes.'

'Can you come here instead?' She asked. 'I think it's important.'

He nodded, looking thoughtful. 'I doubt anyone will notice,' he agreed. 'Our teacher is a ghost, and his lessons are always impossibly dull.'

'You will likely learn more important history by coming here,' Fleur informed him, 'my father took it upon himself to investigate your family.'

'Oh.' Fleur knew that she had captured his curiosity. The stonework behind his head began to move past him more rapidly as he hurried towards the Chamber of Secrets. 'I will see you in a few moments,' he said by way of farewell. She smiled and tucked the locket back into her dress.

'He is coming,' Fleur announced to her parents, returning to the kitchen. There was a soft snap from the entrance hall as she finished speaking. 'He is here,' she corrected, smiling.

They stepped out of the kitchen into the hall to where Harry was standing, adjusting clothes that he had clearly just transfigured from his school robes.

'Nice try, Harry,' she laughed. He shot her a rueful grin, but didn't release the magic.

'Mr and Mrs Delacour,' he greeted cordially. His attitude towards her parents had warmed considerably since they stopped trying to pressure her into considering all the consequences of their relationship.

'Harry,' her mother smiled. Fleur's father inclined his head.

'Fleur told me that you'd been investigating my family?' There was the slightest edge to his curiosity, but she wasn't sure whether it was desire or displeasure.

'My interest got the best of me,' her father admitted. 'I was surprised to learn that you knew so little of your family and I took it upon myself to determine whether or not we might discover some unpleasant surprises when you turn seventeen.'

'Will we?'

'I made some inquiries though the Parisian branch of Gringotts,' he replied a little guiltily, 'they were helpful in some regards, but without your presence I could not discover everything I wanted to.'

'What did you want to learn?' Harry asked, leaning his head slightly to one side to better observe her parents.

'I'm going to have to explain a few things,' her father decided, running one hand over his stubbled chin. 'It might be easier to sit,' he suggested gesturing into the main room. Harry smiled and stepped through, taking a seat on Gabrielle's favourite sofa. The one with chocolate stains.

'Here in Europe things are done a bit differently than in Britain,' her father began taking a seat next to his wife on the sofa next to them. 'The German States, Spain, Italy and most countries have lost the majority of the noble families that ruled in the last two centuries. Traditions and practices have moved on and been modernised. France is split, but every year a few more old laws are overturned by the growing pro-modern majority.'

'I take it this is not the case in Britain,' Harry realised.

'No,' her mother smiled. 'As my husband is far too fond of mentioning, Britain has been the pre-eminent magical community for three centuries, only growing relatively stronger since Grindelwald massacred his way across the mainland.'

'You are concerned about the pure-blooded mantra of some noble houses?' Harry inquired.

'I am concerned about Britain's Dark Lord, but should he fall then the pure-bloods will fall with him. Britain's revolution has finally come, two centuries after France's, and the effects are still felt in this country.'

'My family is one of the old pure-blood houses,' Harry agreed, 'but not in any way associated with bigoted nonsense Voldemort uses to lure followers.'

'As a noble family in a traditionalist society I was worried about the existence of any agreements your family might have that you were unaware of,' her father explained. 'In France these practises have mostly died out, and those that do occur between the few surviving old pure-blood families are frowned upon. Those families are the ones that fled the disastrous attempts of Robespierre to unite magical and muggle societies under his control, and survived the war that followed. They are unpopular for abandoning their country to shelter in Britain, as most of France's magical families, including mine, were created during or afterwards that chaos and looked down on those that had not suffered as we did.'

'I take it these agreements still exist in Britain,' Harry concluded. 'What kind of agreements?' Fleur was waiting for the angry realisation that would come with her father's inevitably verbose, diplomatic explanation.

'They do, and can often be very specific and still binding even generations after they are created.' He rubbed his chin again and Fleur one he was thinking of a way to try and explain himself without insulting Harry's family.

'It is normal practice in Britain, and not unlikely that such agreements exist,' her mother stepped in, folding her hands in her lap. 'Since you are with Fleur, and my daughter seems quite determined that you are who she wants, we wanted to make sure she wasn't going to suddenly disappointed.'

'I don't understand,' Harry frowned.

'I went looking for several types of agreements,' Fleur's father informed her beau. 'First and foremost on my list was any outstanding, accepted offers of marriage between your family and any others.'

Harry paled, and shifted slightly closer to her.

'Were there any?' He asked eventually.

'I still do not know,' her father grimaced. 'The goblins would not help me on the matter without personally given proof that you were involved with a member of my family.'

A little colour returned to Harry's face. 'How likely exactly are these agreements?'

'Increasingly less, even in Britain, as the number of families decreases the interrelated families of high standing grow too closely related for such agreements to be made, and lesser magical families are rarely considered in them since they have little to offer worth a daughter or son of a powerful family.'

'That's good,' Harry smiled, relieved.

'I did ask the goblins to notify me of your house's political stance on the basis that my family might be drawn into any alliances or conflicts you have, but fortunately there are none still existing.'

'None?' Harry asked. 'You're sure.'

'Very,' her father replied immediately. 'There was an agreement of some kind with the Black family, but it was broken twenty years ago. That was the most recent.'

'If I went to Gringotts and asked about theses marriage offers would they tell me?' Harry inquired carefully.

'I was rather hoping you would ask that,' her father smiled triumphantly. 'Should I return with your company the goblins will be willing to answer almost all the questions I wanted answering before.'

'What were the other questions?' Harry grinned.

'I thought you might want to know what state your family's vaults were in, but they would only tell me that the majority of your assets were liquidated over twenty years ago, and they only told me that because I could legally inquire about any property your family owns.' Her father pulled a distasted expression. 'Goblins are very loyal and honourable creatures, but stubborn and cunning too. The reason I asked was because the goblins won't give you anything you do not ask for. They prefer to have as much wizarding wealth within their walls as they can manage, so if you know of any families that are related to yours that you might be able to lay claim to then you need to ask to receive anything.'

Sudden interest flared in Harry's eyes and he looked faintly thoughtful. 'I'm afraid I can only think of one family that I might have any claim to.'

'Only one?' Her father seemed surprised. 'The Potters are an old family, though not particularly prestigious until the fourteenth century when the last member of a very old and famous family married into their family and their status was suddenly elevated. They were originally from France, but were forced to choose a new name to escape the associations the other branch of their family made in Aguilar with the Cathar movement. It was a good thing they did.'

'The Cathars were rather prejudicially crusaded against in France and Italy over a century or so,' Fleur explained, familiar with this part of her father's lecture. 'They were a point where muggle religion met the magical world, and drew the ire of the Papacy for it.'

'Your family moved away and was forgotten long before the crusades of De Montfort,' Fleur's father continued, 'but they were renowned for being a neutral, conflict wary family for many years and consequently outlived and absorbed a lot of other magical families, some of which were quite prestigious. Eventually all the links with greater families made the Potters great too.'

'You were serious about inquiring about my family,' Harry commented.

'I actually already knew all of that,' her father admitted, abashed. Her mother laughed lightly. 'I have a long list of names that might yield something if the goblins are asked about their vaults, but they will only do it if you are present, and they won't actually do anything but register a request has been made until you're seventeen.'

'I see,' Harry nodded. 'So you would like me to accompany you to Gringotts?'

'I would,' her father answered only to freeze as a giant, silver eagle the height of a man suddenly burst into the room, flaring its wings to stop in front of Harry.

'There's likely nothing left.' It was Harry's voice that emanated from the bird, and her mother gasped staring at him with soft eyes. 'He suggests making a request just in case, but insisting it remain a secret.'

'That's your patronus?' Fleur's mother asked in a slightly strangled tone.

'Yes,' Harry nodded, a slight red tinge touching his cheeks.

'I didn't know you could send messages using your patronus,' her father remarked. 'How do you do it?'

'I don't know,' Harry grinned. 'I suspect I'll find out sometime in the next six hours though.'

He has a time-turner, Fleur realised.

It was the only thing that made sense. There was no other way he could send a patronus message to himself using a method he had not yet learnt. It didn't explain her mother's reaction to it though.

Fleur glanced pointedly at the kitchen, catching her mother's eye.

'We'll leave you two to talk about history,' Fleur's mother smiled. 'Try not to be too enthusiastic about it Laurent. These are the only conversations that explain how my youngest daughter ended up like she did,' she told Harry lightly.

'Beauxbatons,' Fleur said, catching Harry's raised eyebrow as she was stepping out. It was sweet of him to care about Gabrielle.

'What was wrong with his patronus?' Fleur demanded the moment she was sure they were out of earshot.

'Wrong?' Her mother asked, shifting uncomfortably. 'There's nothing wrong with it all, far from it. I fear we may have misjudged him horribly,' she admitted.

'And that is related to his patronus' form because?' Fleur pressed, sensing her mother was trying to evade actually answering the question.

'I suppose if he was willing to cast it where we would see, then he does not mind us all knowing,' her mother sighed. 'Do you remember what I told you about veela when I started teaching you how to control your veela magic?'

'Yes,' Fleur answered. 'Or at least most of it.'

'The you know the myth of the origins of veela is that they are the descendants of beautiful witches who were raised by Anzu, long extinct, magical birds.' Her mother gave her a pointed look, but Fleur didn't need it to realise what she was saying about Harry's corporeal patronus.

'It's an Anzu, but what does that matter?'

'In mythology the Anzu were used to denote the elements of fire and air, and the origin myth is likely a poorly interpreted reference to our magical affinities, but regardless of the real reason for its association with veela your boyfriend,' Fleur frowned at the immature sounding noun, 'has the strongest affinity to a creature synonymous with veela.'

'That's a good thing, surely,' Fleur responded.

'A good thing,' her mother made an odd choking noise. 'It's a fairly well known fact that a patronus often changes for dramatic emotional upheaval or change. Ask him if it has changed and you will understand or it will be irrelevant.'

Fleur pinched the bridge of her nose, frustrated with her mother's roundabout explanation. She was always this way when she thought that Fleur needed to work something your for herself.

'We're going to Gringotts,' her father called from the entrance hall. 'Do you wish to come, Fleur, Apolline?'

'Go,' her mother told her, 'and don't forget to ask.' She shot her mother one more frown before striding quickly into the entrance hall.

'Maman doesn't wish to come,' she announced. 'I can side-long apparate Harry,' she added, smirking slightly at the opportunity to make blush in front of her father.

'It's fine,' Harry assured her calmly, but the mild panic in his eyes gave away that he had guessed her plan.

'I insist,' she laughed, stepping close to him and wrapping her arms around his chest.

There was a quiet crack and they disapparated in front of Fleur's father's shocked face.

'Did you have to do that?' Harry complained.

'Yes,' she smiled. 'It was funny, and I wanted to ask you a question.'

'Ask away,' Harry sighed. 'I'm sure we have a moment while your father recovers from watching you throw yourself at me anyway.'

'I did not throw myself at you,' Fleur disagreed, despite knowing that was only one small set beyond what she had done. 'I like side-long apparating like that, don't you?'

'It is quite nice,' he conceded, smiling fondly at her.

'I wanted to ask if your patronus has ever changed,' Fleur told him.

He flushed ever so slightly and glanced around the street before answering. 'It might have,' he said eventually. 'It used to be a stag.'

There was a long pause where she stared at him, trying to figure out what her mother meant. 'Fine,' he sighed, the flush creeping further up his face, 'it changed in the last few months of last year and over the summer.'

Emotional upheaval, Fleur mused. Oh.

There wasn't anything she could say in response to his roundabout, indisputable confession, so she kissed him instead. Hard, dragging him close to her by the collar of his transfigured robes.

Her father, of course, chose that moment to apparate in next to him.

'Am I interrupting?' He inquired, taking every single iota of amusement he could from their embarrassment.

'I think she was about to let go of me,' Harry replied, touching his fingers to lips that were likely tingling just as much as hers.

'I was not,' Fleur disagreed, brushing his hand out the way and kissing him again, more softly. She didn't want to bruise her mouth too badly, not when she could keep him with her for the rest of the day.

Her father sighed, but he seemed much happier about them being together than he had before.

Mother told him, Fleur realised. She only wanted Harry to have to admit it to me.

There was some more evidence that Gabrielle's obsession with romance had not come from their father. She supposed that as long as her mother did not start demanding they kiss in the rain, and her help went as well as this, then Fleur didn't really mind.

'Shall we go,' her father suggested lightly once Fleur had realised a distinctly red-faced Harry.

They strolled across the street and into the marble-floored, slim-pillared colonnade of the Parisian branch of Gringotts. It was not as large as the main branch in London. Britain's Empire, trade dominance and magical superiority made them the centre of the global economy for long enough to have a permanent impact.

'Mr Delacour.' One of the older, more gnarled looking goblins stepped our from behind his desk to greet her father.

'I've returned with the aforementioned third party,' her father responded quietly.

'Ah,' the goblin smiled, displaying a rather impressively sharp seeming set of teeth. 'Step this way please.'

The goblin picked up a thin, black brief case and led them into a private meeting room a few paces along the corridor from his desk and closed the door.

'I am Nagnok, Mr Potter,' the goblin introduced himself, not offering a hand. Goblins did not particularly like wizards and disliked to be overly familiar with them, but then goblins disliked other goblins and anything that wasn't gold, silver, ancient, or valuable.

'A pleasure,' Harry answered coolly, not at all put off by the staring goblin.

'I assume that you are here to verify Mr Delacour's questions are legitimate inquiries,' the goblin said snapping open the case he had brought with him.

'I am.'

'I take that this is the daughter with which you are involved,' the goblin glanced dismissively at her. Harry's eyes narrowed but he nodded.

'Don't ask her to prove it,' she heard her father murmur under his breath. Harry chuckled, obviously overhearing as well.

'Then I can conclusively answer your questions,' Nagnok announced. 'Here is a list of the current accepted marriage offers for the Potter family.'

He passed it to Harry who scanned it tentatively.

'What does it say?' Fleur asked nervously. If she needed to go and immolate some British witch then she needed her name.

'Katie Bell,' Harry said solemnly.

Fleur's heart plummeted.

Harry burst out laughing. 'The look on your face,' he turned the piece of parchment over, 'it's blank.'

For a long moment Fleur was torn between the equally strong urge to burn him to cinders for making her worry and joking about something so important, or kissing him repeatedly just because he was still hers.

'You can set fire to him later,' her father commented, trying and failing to conceal his own smile.

'Can I enquire about the current status of my family's assets?' Harry asked Nagnok.

'You may,' the goblin smiled.

'Will you tell me when I do?' Harry continued, unfazed.

'I will,' Nagnok's smile grew.

'Then consider that my enquiry,' Harry responded firmly.

Nagnok turned back to his case and the pile of documents within, shuffling through them, before nodding and turning back to face Harry.

'As I am not the account manager for your family, and not authorised to share the explicit details without their express permission I can only tell you that the majority of the assets your family held were liquidated by Charles Potter to try and limit losses in the escalating wizarding war, but after his death James Potter spent all but a small fraction of it. Since then there have been a multitude of wills bequeathing small amounts to you and no further action other than to maintain your trust fund.'

'Are there any further details you could share?' Harry asked. Fleur had to agree with him. Without knowing the size of the fraction or how wealthy Harry's family had been he could have anywhere from a fortune to a pittance.

'I can tell you that your trust fund cannot possibly be exhausted under any circumstances, but if you truly tried you would come close to wiping out half your family's remaining fortune.' Nagnok smirked, clearly not expecting Harry to be able to do anything with the information.

'Thank you,' Harry responded politely. 'I would ask that you investigate any claim I might have to these vaults.' Her father passed him a handwritten list from under his arm. Harry frowned and added a single name to the bottom. Fleur didn't need to guess to know which.

Nagnok looked faintly surprised, but scanned the list of names. 'I can say with almost utter certainty that any claim you have to the assets of theses family will avail you nothing. I know the names of most of Gringotts oldest clients, whom these families would definitely be among, and only the last has anything stored within our walls. In accordance with your request I can inform you that the vault in question is little more than the remnants of an unpaid dowry.'

'That is more than I hoped for,' Harry replied earnestly. 'Make sure that inquiry remains discreet,' he instructed. 'I would prefer that nobody outside of ourselves learnt of it.'

'I understand, Mr Potter,' the goblin smirked nastily. 'It might cause a bit of a stir.'

'Exactly,' Harry nodded. 'Will you comply?'

'Of course,' the goblin looked mildly affronted. 'We do not share our clients secrets without good reason.'

Nagnok ushered them out, while Harry endured the curious stare of her father.

'Which family did you add?' He asked eventually, unable to resist. Fleur could only imagine how much it must vex him that he had missed someone off his genealogy.

'If I tell you,' Harry said slowly, 'you must swear not to tell another soul, including your wife and Gabrielle.'

'That seems a little drastic,' Fleur's father frowned.

'Perhaps,' Harry agreed, 'but as I know you are aware the British media has a fondness for misrepresenting facts about me.'

'You have my word,' her father decided, 'but I will tell my family if I think it will affect them.'

'I can accept that,' Harry nodded. 'The name I added was Slytherin.'

Her father stopped dead in the street.

'Are you serious?' He sputtered. 'That's not mentioned in any of the books at all.'

'I have good reason to believe it,' Harry assured him quietly, 'very good reason.'

'Parselmouth,' her father realised. 'The Daily Prophet mentioned it, but I assumed it was simply rumour-mongering.'

'It was one of the few things that they got right,' Fleur said dryly. 'Shall we go back before Harry is recognised?'

She didn't wait for anyone to respond and jumped at Harry, who instinctively caught her, stepping backwards under the sudden weight. Fleur wrapped her legs around his waist.

'That's me throwing myself at you,' she murmured, apparating them home.

They collapsed in the entrance hall, Fleur still wrapped around him.

'How do I always end up on the bottom?' Harry complained.

'Magic,' Fleur replied wryly, untangling herself from him.

'That would explain it,' he smiled, standing up. 'I should return to school, curfew comes soon.'

'You could simply stay until the morning,' Fleur suggested, throwing a challenging look over her shoulder at her mother who was watching from the end of the hall.

'Only if your parents are ok with it,' Harry decided, 'and I will still have to apparate back briefly, just to make sure I can send the patronus.'

'I'm ok with it,' her mother agreed, just as her father appeared behind them with a crack. 'Laurent will be as well, Harry.' Fleur smirked, she knew her parents would let her, if only because they knew she would simply sneak him back in anyway or do anything they were afraid of happening elsewhere.

'Thank you, Mrs Delacour,' he smiled.

'No,' Fleur's mother shook her head, 'Apolline, please. Fleur has decided that you are a part of this family and I agree with her.'

The difference a patronus makes, Fleur thought happily.

'I'll be back in just a moment,' he grinned, 'though it will feel like hours for me.'

Fleur chuckled, evidently he was going to use the time-turner.

'Harry is staying until the morning, papa,' she told her father, as her beau vanished almost silently.

Fleur's father eyed her resignedly. 'I would get Binky to make up one of the spare rooms, but something tells me it will be a waste of time.' Fleur smiled innocently. 'I console myself in the knowledge that Gabrielle will likely be far far worse than you.'

'She takes after her father,' her mother chuckled, 'mischievous and charming, but I hope she spends less time chasing the opposite sex than you did.'

'I only chased one girl,' her father defended. 'And she cruelly rejected me for years.'

Harry returned appearing suddenly on top of Fleur's left foot. She gently pushed him off and gestured upstairs, leaving her parents to reminisce about their own romance.

'Do you have a spare room I can stay in?' Harry asked. 'Of course you do,' he laughed, 'you live in a chateau.'

'No,' Fleur smirked.

'You don't?' Harry looked slightly confused, then he saw her smile and realised what she meant, flushing violently.

'I suppose I can live with that,' he decided. He eyed the bed with equal parts apprehension and anticipation. 'You don't snore, do you?' Harry grinned.

'Of course not,' Fleur dismissed. 'Sometimes I get cold, though,' she added coyly, 'it's probably because I like to sleep in as little clothing as possible.'

Her teasing had the desired effect, but only for a moment as he suddenly seemed to remember something and turned serious.

'I'm going to have to act soon,' he told her.

'Not now,' Fleur decided, silencing him by pressing her finger to his lips. 'You can tell me all about that in the morning.' She flicked her wand at the door, shutting and locking it. 'I've missed kissing you,' she murmured, slipping her hands into his hair. 'I've missed being able to do this as well,' she teased, pushing herself close against him and enjoying every inch of his reaction to her closeness.

Fleur trailed the fingertips over her right hand down his neck and over his chest, moaning slightly as he kissed her and traced his tongue over her lower lip. Harry let his hands slide to her hips, pulling her into him as he kissed her back, letting the warmth of their contact burst into a smouldering heat that emanated from his eyes in heart-melting waves and shivered through her body in searing jolts of pleasure.

She'd never wanted anything quite so much as she wanted to feel him against her in this instant.

A brief flare of blue sparks scorched his robes from his torso, letting Fleur's fingers slip over his skin as the transfigured robes reverted and fell from his shoulder. It was so much more satisfying than touching him through his clothes that she almost gasped in relief.

Harry's hands were drifting under her top, a provocative heat that slid up her back and round over her stomach to brush teasingly along the sensitive underside of her breasts. The sensation was maddeningly arousing, feeding the flames of her desire with each unfulfilled promise of further pleasure.

Fleur kissed him harder, flicking her tongue into his mouth, touching its tip teasingly to the end of Harry's. Her fingers drifted lower, tracing the outline of his abdomen as they dropped dangerously low, provoking him as he was her.

She could feel how much he wanted her, she could feel it pressed against her, in the desperation of his kisses and the way he wanted to touch every inch of her, but his hands never did more than stray close to where she most wanted to be touched.

His fingers slid upwards over stomach again, drawing searing hot lines over her skin, and this time she leant into the contact, stifling a gasp into Harry's mouth as his fingertips brushed over her rigid nipple.

It broke the last of his reluctance to touch her, and somehow her top was gone and his hands moving over every part of her, his kisses trailing down her neck. Fleur moaned once as his lips brushed the hollow of her throat, then twisted him around over her on the bed, biting her lip when his kisses ghosted across her chest.

She twisted her hands in his hair, pressing her lips together as his tongue traced soft circles around her areola. Her need for him was growing unbearable. Harry's lips came up to kiss her even as she scorched away the last of their clothes.

Fleur didn't need to tell him what she wanted next.

AN: Please read and review, thanks to all those who do! I've never actually tried writing anything like the last part before, normally I just hint and move on, so I'm interested in what you all thought of it. I'm also a little unsure of the rating rules, it's a little ambiguous given what I've read on here and what they seem to imply.

P.S. Someone wanted me to explain how the time-turners in this fic work, so here goes. You put it around your neck, you turn it however many times, then you are physically transported backward in time and exist alongside your past self. Events continue until the loop ends and only one version of the traveller exists. It can get more complicated with multiple loops, but I'm avoiding that. In other words, it's just like in canon, only I've written it so we see the effects from a different perspective than watching the time loop happen directly. In this chapter, to pick it apart as an example, Harry receives his patronus message, thus he knows it has to be cast by the other version of himself and understands he has to travel back in time and send the message for things to happen as he will want them to. He apparates out of the chateau, uses the time-turner to travel back a few hours and talks with Salazar, then he casts the patronus spell. He has to wait in the chamber (or do something more useful than just sit around) until the time he knows he will leave the chateau to and use the time-turner. At which point he can then apparate to back France, closing the loop of time he has created and continuing on. Simple :)

P.P.S. Anyone who wants to debate about me with this should PM me and be prepared, because I find the concept fascinating and will message you endlessly about it if you show any interest ;)