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

So it's been a while, but here's 77, I meant to post this on monday, but my friends dragged me to Shrewsbury for a few days so that didn't happen.

This chapter is completely child-friendly, so if you're under 16, or 18, or whatever, just carry on reading through; it'll be fine. (I'm lying, there's definitely some vaguely suggestive stuff, but I've warned you now, so I take no responsibility for everyone who's too young ignoring this note and reading it anyway).

Chapter 77

The small, cool room at the far end of the house to their bedroom had swiftly become Harry's study. Neat, towering piles of books encircled the walls from the doorway to the window that looked out over towards the rest of the village.

It was a plain-walled, and simple, white, plaster ceilinged affair. The only touch of colour came from the books, the emerald green ink Harry had taken to writing in, and the Peverell family tree he had sketched on several sheets of parchment across the far wall.

'Are you done?' Fleur called.

'For now,' he replied easily, dropping his quill unceremoniously onto the desk. There was a lot of magical theory he needed to cover to pass his NEWTs as early as he intended, the ever rising stack of notes next to the desk could attest to that, but he'd already managed to perform the vast majority of the magic he would be tested on.

'If you're done you should be coming,' Fleur pointed out, her voice growing louder as she came to drag him from his chair. There had been times when he'd become so focused on his work, or his study of the Peverells that he'd forgotten about meal times, or when it was advisable to sleep. Fleur had taken exception to that, taking it upon herself to scold him whenever he forgot to eat.

'We're supposed to be leaving,' she stepped through the doorway, as he hurriedly tried to finish arranging the stack of paper he had produced this morning, 'in fact, we are supposed to have left.'

'I'm done,' Harry announced, abandoning his arranging and standing up.

'Good.' She seemed slightly tense; there was a stiffness about her posture that Harry had not seen in sometime.

'Are you ok?'

'I'm fine,' Fleur smiled, relaxing a fraction. 'Are we leaving?'

'As soon as I have altered my face,' Harry answered, still puzzling over the source of her tension. They were only going to meet Neville and Katie.

He drew his wand, and, gazing into the reflection of the wand, transfigured his features, returning his hair to the same brilliant crimson he had become accustomed to disguising it as.

A few more subtle shifts to his cheekbones, nose, lips and chin, and he was staring at Tom Riddle once more. Fleur sighed lightly, indulging him; now that Harry knew Voldemort disliked Harry using his own face against him he was definitely not changing to anyone more innocuous. Raising his wand he held the tip just before his eyes, ready to alter their colour now he better understood how. Voldemort had been right, his eyes betrayed him, and while he could not seem to undo the subtle aura of magic they held he could switch their colour.

'No,' Fleur's hand caught his wrist, 'don't change them.'

'Anyone who looks at me carefully will know who I am,' Harry warned.

'I like your eyes how they are,' she told him softly. 'If we are confronted, then we shall simply apparate away.'

'Nobody ever really looks past the hair anyway,' he shrugged.

Fleur, he suspected, didn't like the idea of accompanying him when he wasn't wearing his own face, and probably quite approved of the idea of the two of them finally being seen together and for what they were. Harry could hardly blame her. He had entertained the notion of revealing their relationship several times recently, normally when Fleur mentioned some of the more persistent coworkers, but he had no notion of how to do it without throwing her into Voldemort's line of sight.

Today is the first step, I suppose, he decided.

The date on the back of the badge had changed three days ago, and Harry was anxious to see how Katie was faring. It had been almost a week since he had last seen her, crying in the ruins of her shop, before he had had to leave her. There had been no way to safely contact her since then; the Fidelius prevented the sending of letters, and Harry worried about her. Most of all he worried that it would change her, and the bright, cheerful girl would be permanently tainted by the suffering.

Perhaps it was his anxiety that Fleur had somehow sensed, and that was why she seemed suddenly more tense than usual.

'Let's go then,' she decided, 'I am quite eager to meet your friends.'

Harry replaced his wand and extended an arm for Fleur to hold, but she stepped in closer, and wrapped it around her waist instead.

It was almost as if nothing had ever happened. Diagon Alley bore few scars from Voldemort's attack, though Harry knew now that the demonstration had only been secondary to the Dark Lord's real goal. Voldemort disliked feeling like he had come off worse just as much as Harry did, and no doubt his desire to break even would be in the back of his mind even now.

'It looks like nothing ever happened,' Fleur commented quietly, 'even if it is a bit less busy.'

There were fewer people, the crowds that had thronged through the alley before were a far cry from the small clusters of wizards and witches that traversed the street now. The nearest such group began to move again, revealing a smooth, flat, streak of street where the stones had been warped beyond recognition, and Harry didn't need to guess to know that it was the result of the fiendfyre Voldemort had conjured. The cobbles would likely never recover if they hadn't already been fixed.

'Are we going in?' Fleur asked, following his gaze to the marred surface with narrowed eyes. She had been frantic when he had returned from Diagon Alley late amid reports of a Death Eater attack, so panicked that she had cried when he returned, and he had, to ease her worries and stop her tears, promised not to return without her.

'Let's go,' he agreed. He didn't like thinking about Fleur's tears. It was the only time he had ever seen her cry, and Harry had hated holding her helplessly more than anything.

There were no people underneath the red umbrellas, the tables were empty, and the café closed. He separated himself from Fleur, unable to dismiss the idea that Voldemort might have returned to finish what Macnair had failed to do, and drew his wand.

The door was unlocked, and creaked softly when Harry gently pushed it open to stalk on the balls of his feet into the café itself.

'Homenum revelio,' Fleur murmured behind him. Her eyes swept over the room, gleaming hard and determined. 'Nothing,'she stated, 'if anyone's here, then they're downstairs.'

For a second time he ventured past the counter, but this time he was walking slowly rather than hurrying, and his deliberate, steady steps echoed down the passage. Fleur's lighter footsteps were just audible underneath, as she moved to walk alongside him, casting the same revealing chair under her breath every time they passed a door.

'Harry's late,' he heard Neville remark, 'do you know if he's actually coming?'

'No, we have no way to contact him other than these meetings, but I'm sure he will be here.' Katie sounded like she was worried, but not overly so. He exchanged a relieved glance with Fleur and hurried up the steps to the first floor in the direction of his friends' voices.

Harry made it three steps into the room before something flashed a brilliant orange in his vision and he was slammed against the wall hard enough to knock the breath from his body. He was vaguely aware of a searing, roiling heat filling the room, and someone was apologising frantically; it sounded like Katie.

'I didn't realise,' the voice continued frantically, 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, we're all a bit on edge after what happened.'

Katie's mother, Harry realised. At least it means she's recovered.

He picked himself back up off the floor, brushing the dust from his robes and swiping his long, crimson hair off his forehead.

The heat came from Fleur. A pinprick of cerulean fire so bright it hurt to look at smouldered a few inches above her fingers, its heat distorting the air around it, and Harry could see the shimmer of the wards she had instantaneously raised around the pair of them. He recognised the fading, white energy of the Fianto Duri. Katie's mother was backed up against the wall on the far side, her wand held shakily in her left hand, and her eyes darting from Harry to Fleur and back. Katie looked like she had swallowed something particularly bitter, and Neville was shielding the blonde, pig-tailed Hannah Abbott from Fleur's line of sight.

'Everyone this is Fleur,' Harry grinned, 'Fleur, everyone.'

'Nice to meet you,' Neville answered dryly. The fire disappeared, and Fleur relaxed, releasing the wards she had cast in two stages. They were more complicated than Harry had initially realised; evidently he had not been the only one seeking to improve himself over the summer.

'You wand,' Katie pointed out, bending down to retrieve the slender piece of ebony from the floor at the same time as Fleur.

'Don't,' Neville warned, clearly remembering the time it had burnt him.

'Don't?' Katie inquired, picking the wand up from the floor before Neville could stop her. 'It's warm,' she commented curiously, then her lips twisted, and she deposited the wand gently into Fleur's hands where it started to cheerfully glow with soft, white light.

'Thanks.' Harry smiled at them both, slipping his wand back into its holster, and enjoying the usual rush of warmth he felt from handling it.

'Sorry,' Katie's mother apologised again, 'I didn't realise it was you, Harry.'

'That's ok,' Harry grinned as everyone settled into seats around the room. 'No harm done.'

'There should have been,' Katie's mother frowned, 'that wasn't a friendly spell. How are you so unaffected?'

Without knowing the exact spell Harry wasn't entirely sure, but he didn't feel particularly unaffected. It felt like Uncle Vernon had spent several hours jumping up and down on his chest, and then thrown hot oil on the bruises, but the pain was fading as he healed.

Likely something to do with the rituals, he surmised, and that wasn't exactly an answer he could voice aloud.

The real question,' he glanced pointedly at Neville who immediately flushed, 'is how did Neville manage to transfigure Hannah the cactus into such a perfect copy of his favourite Hufflepuff?'

Katie sniggered, and Fleur smiled lightly as his friend's face turned a worryingly bright shade of crimson.

'Hannah the cactus?' The blonde asked, smiling coyly and tugging at one of her pigtails.

'Hasn't he shown you the mimbulus mimbletonia yet?' Harry pressed, ignoring Neville who was mouthing no over and over, and shaking his head violently when he thought Hannah wasn't watching.

'Of course,' Hannah nodded, 'it's such a rare plant, and so hard to keep. Professor Sprout was very impressed that Nev had managed it.'

'Neville named it after someone very important to him,' Katie explained, beaming victoriously.

'That's very sweet of you,' Hannah cooed, cheeks tinged pink.

'Sweet,' Harry frowned, 'it's a bulbous, spiky thing that squirts horrible smelling sap at people.'

'But Neville loves his cactus; he's very proud of it,' Hannah argued, 'so it's cute.'

'Very cute,' Harry agreed, as Neville shifted uncomfortably, still red-faced. That was an embarrassing enough adjective for him to settle for.

'So,' Hannah began hesitantly. 'I don't mean to sound rude, by why s Beauxbatons' former Triwizard Tournament champion here?'

'I am with Harry,' Fleur answered simply, placing her hand over his on the table.

'Oh,' Hannah looked momentarily stunned. 'I didn't know, I mean, I know you went to the Yule Ball together, but I didn't realise you were a thing.'

'It's a good story,' Neville piped up, a vengeful glint in his eyes.

'It's not,' Harry interrupted, 'Neville's a malicious liar, and you shouldn't believe anything he says about me.' Fleur laughed lightly, but her grip on his hand tightened slightly. She, it seemed, would rather like them to know the story.

'Tell it if you must,' Harry sighed, 'but it goes no further than this room. Fleur and I are trying to make sure our relationship isn't made known to Voldemort.' Katie's mother twitched nervously at the name, and then quietly left the room, but none of the others moved, not even Hannah.

'Hannah won't tell anyone,' Neville assured him. 'She keeps all my secrets like they were her own.'

'That's right, Nev,' Harry said wryly, 'justify your revenge to yourself.' Katie giggled, but Neville ignored him in favour of launching right into the story.

'I apologise if I get any of the details wrong,' he grinned, 'I've only ever heard Harry's version.'

'Harry's spent most of the last two years dodging vicious rumours,' Katie interceded. 'I don't think you can do any worse than Rita Skeeter did, Neville.'

'But he'll try,' Harry commented dryly.

'Of course he will,' Katie laughed, 'he wants payback for all of the jokes we made about him at Hogwarts.'

'You've ruined it now,' Neville bemoaned. 'Hannah won't believe anything I say.'

'Shame,' Harry smirked. 'I take it Neville managed to convince you that he's just an idiot, and he wasn't ditching you for Katie when you ran into each other in Diagon Alley.'

'He did,' Hannah smiled fondly. 'It took him several tries to get past the stutter, but I never believed he was with Katie.' She glanced almost warily at Fleur, before shrugging and kissing Neville lightly on one cheek.

'I thought we'd got past that stutter,' Harry mock sighed, oblivious to Fleur's all but imperceptible frown.

'He must have regressed,' Katie shook her head, 'when we're together at Hogwarts next year we'll have to sort him out again.'

'We will,' Harry grinned. 'We'll have plenty of time; I'll be doing my NEWTs, so hopefully I won't have to go to classes if I don't want to.'

'Again,' Katie scrunched up her face, 'have you actually been to any of your classes in the last two years?'

'I've been to some,' Harry grinned, 'but there were better places to go, the company in France was much better than in class.'

Katie scowled slightly. 'It's alright for some, I wish I could have done my transfiguration NEWT early; it would have made things easier this coming year.'

'I have more important things to worry about than NEWTs,' Harry said lightly, 'Dark Lords, Death Eaters, and getting my Firebolt back off Katie.'

'One of those is likely impossible,' Neville added impishly.

'It's mine now,' Katie beamed, sticking her chin in the air.

'I think that places you in eternal slavery to me,' Harry noted dryly.

'Could be worse,' Katie shrugged, undeterred. Fleur raised a delicate eyebrow in query until Harry explained that he leant Katie his broom after getting banned from the quidditch team and he suspected that the quidditch loving brunette might not return it.

They fell into brief silence, and Harry took the opportunity to turn the hand that still lay under Fleur's over and began to trace patterns across her palm with his middle finger.

'I have to ask,' Hannah burst out suddenly. 'Katie told Neville that you saved her when she was attacked, but how?'

'Walden Macnair wanted to take Katie's head off with an axe,' Harry said bluntly, 'I prevented him.'

'But he was a Death Eater,' Hannah pressed, 'an experienced, powerful duellist.'

'It wasn't a duel,' Harry smiled innocently, 'I caught him by surprise, and he didn't get a chance to retaliate.'

'You stunned him?' Neville frowned, 'so he's still out there?'

'No,' Harry carefully schooled expression into a blank facade, 'he's not still out there.'

'Good,' Neville said fiercely. 'They don't deserve mercy, and they simply escape Azkaban to carry on committing atrocities.' Hannah looked slightly uncomfortable, but she voiced no disagreement.

Harry caught her eye, wordlessly and wandlessly using legilimency to determine her reaction to Neville's opinion. There was anger; she hated the ones who had killed most of her family, there was satisfaction; she was glad one of them was dead, but she was glad that it had nothing to do with her. Hannah wanted the Death Eaters to pay, but she wasn't prepared or ready to do anything to stain her own hands.

'Did you impale him with icicles?' Neville asked curiously. 'You seriously injured Malfoy the last time Katie was hurt.'

Katie shifted awkwardly, looking anywhere but across the table at Harry and Fleur.

'No,' Harry rubbed his chin, 'there were two of them actually, 'so I just acted without thinking.' That was no lie, if he'd been thinking about it more clearly he wouldn't have used the Killing Curse in front of Katie.

'There were several members of Voldemort's Inner Circle there you know,' Harry continued, before Neville could ask about the spells he'd used again.

'Two of them were killed,' Neville commented, meeting Harry's eyes.

'Good riddance,' Hannah said quietly.

'As long as it wasn't either of the remaining Lestrange brothers,' Neville interceded. 'I want them for myself.'

'I'll save them for you,' Harry told him wryly. Neville's small smile indicated that he understood. If he could Harry would tell him when he moved against the Lestranges and they would take Neville's revenge together.

'I need to go, Nev,' Hannah whispered, 'I promised I'd be back by now.'

'I'll see you later,' Neville nodded, hugging her tightly, 'I do wish your family would let you out more.'

'We don't all have an adoring, proud grandmother who lets us do whatever we want,' Hannah teased. Neville looked rightly more proud than abashed; he had earned his gran's pride. 'Anyway, it was nice to see you all, and it was nice to meet you Fleur.'

'Likewise,' Fleur smiled. She had been quiet, unusually reserved for when they were together, and were he not so aware of her presence Harry might have forgotten she was there.

Hannah's footsteps trailed down the steps and out into the shop.

'So you finally got the girl of your dreams, Nev,' Harry grinned.

'No thanks to you,' Neville grumbled, 'she's going to bring that cactus up all the time in Herbology next year. I know it.' He shivered slightly, and stared at Fleur for a moment as she released the allure she had been consciously restraining.

'That's better,' Fleur sighed. 'It is annoying to have to concentrate on holding my magic back.'

'So kind of you to restrain it to stop Neville from embarrassing himself in front of Hannah,' Harry smirked. 'Maybe next time.'

'Maybe,' Fleur matched his smirk, and Neville gulped.

'How does it work?' Katie asked tentatively.

Fleur eyed her carefully for a long moment, watching her squirm nervously, and Harry hid a smile; he'd never seen the outgoing brunette so flustered.

'It's a compulsion,' Fleur answered eventually. 'The more magic I direct to it the stronger the compulsion to desire me becomes, and it requires them to be looking at me. The more focused they are on me the greater affect it has. My magic is stronger than most,' a touch of pride coloured her tone, 'so the aura I naturally produce is potent enough to enthral anyone who does not know how to resist; it is not normally so.'

'It doesn't seem to be affecting Neville,' Katie said curiously, 'or Harry,' she added.

'I taught Neville occlumency,' Harry mentioned, 'that will help him.'

'And Harry is all but immune,' Fleur sulked. 'All my aura makes no difference unless I catch him off guard.'

'You tried?' Disapproval emanated from his friend.

'I was curious to see how resistant he was,' Fleur replied, unrepentant, 'so was Harry, for that matter.' He eyes hardened. 'I did not seek to lure him to me with it if that is what you are afraid of.'

'I'm not afraid of that,' Katie smiled. The expression looked oddly strained, and Harry gave in to the temptation to use legilimency for a moment, catching her unexpected disappointment, before remembering how wrong it was for him to violate her privacy, and angrily severing the connection.

Fleur did not look reassured, an odd tension hung between the two of them. Harry squeezed her hand, trying to distract her attention from whatever was annoying her and get her to look at him so he could subtly ask her about it.

She only shook her head imperceptibly at his raised eyebrow.

'I take it Neville is the only one of us not aware of how you were saved,' Fleur began, changing the subject, 'it might be prudent to tell him.'

The Lestranges are one of our targets, Harry recalled.

They couldn't have Neville chasing after them in case they knew something important about Voldemort's horcruxes.

'Is it like Bellatrix?' Neville asked carefully.

'Bellatrix?' Harry gave Neville a pointedly confused look, and his friend took a hint. Katie did not need to know about that particular excursion yet. 'Macnair was going to cut off Katie's head after seriously hurting her parents. I took exception to that. I killed him and the werewolf with him.'

'With the Killing Curse,' Katie murmured. 'You were furious, I haven't seen you so angry since you were banned from quidditch.' Fleur's hand slid smoothly from atop Harry's into her lap. 'It was scary.'

'There's no middle ground with Death Eaters,' Harry warned, 'they won't stop until they, or Voldemort are dead, and we can't imprison them because they've already started escaping from Azkaban.'

'I don't like it,' Katie looked down at her hands, 'you shouldn't have to do things like that. The aurors and hit wizards are meant to; it's their job.'

'Harry's more powerful than they are,' Fleur added softly, 'and more involved.'

'I like it,' Neville said flatly. 'They're Death Eaters, they torture, kill, rape and worse, death is least they deserve.'

'I suppose,' Katie grimaced. 'I'll stick to school and quidditch when we go back there, there's nothing I can do anyway, I'm not particularly powerful, just good at quidditch and transfiguration. My dad has rejoined the hit wizards after the attack on us, and mum is helping out at St Mungo's when she can. We're not strong enough to make much of a difference.'

'I'm going to get strong enough to make a difference,' Neville vowed, 'then I'm going to kill both Lestranges for what they did to my parents, and I'm going to do it before they can hurt anyone else.'

'Tell me first,' Harry instructed firmly, 'they may possess something very important that needs to be destroyed, and if they die we might not be able to find it. It's a dangerous magical artefact belonging to Voldemort,' he explained at their stares.

'Like the diary?' Neville asked.

'Yes.' Harry smiled slightly at his friend's unknowingly accurate deduction. 'You'll still get your revenge, don't worry.'

'Is that what you're doing then?' Katie asked, tugging at her hair nervously. 'You're looking for that?'

'Yes,' Harry answered honestly, 'as well as studying for my NEWTs.'

'And repainting the door to the house,' Fleur reminded him sweetly.

'And that,' Harry rolled his eyes, 'I'll do it eventually, but it doesn't really need it.'

'It's a terrible colour,' Fleur disagreed, 'this country is not warm enough to merit so much white. I would like a blue door.'

'I haven't found the right colour paint yet,' Harry defended. He had looked, briefly, through muggle magazines, and the shops in the their village, but he hadn't managed to find a hue of blue close enough to what he wanted. That precise shade of summer sky was proving elusive.

'You sound so grown up,' Neville chuckled.

'Fleur's being hypocritical,' Harry childishly stuck his tongue out at her, emulating some of Gabrielle's less mature behaviour, 'it took you weeks to fix the shower.'

'The shower wasn't really a problem,' she shrugged daintily, suppressing a smile.

'I'd call being scalded every day a problem,' Harry disagreed.

'It was only a little hot water,' Fleur smiled.

'It's only a little white paint,' Harry countered.

'I will take away your books about the Peverell family,' she threatened playfully.

'I'll do it tomorrow,' Harry grinned, defeated. He knew Fleur would only really ever even consider that if he became so obsessed it was a problem. His search for the stone was too important to him for anything else. However it had been a while since he promised to paint the door, so he should do it.

'So how is everything then, Katie?' Harry asked gently. 'Your parents sound like they're ok, but you haven't reopened the café.'

'Nobody wants to risk hanging around Diagon Alley for longer than they have to,' Katie shrugged, 'the café would be just as empty if it were open. We're all ok though,' she smiled warmly at him, 'thanks for asking.'

'Good,' Harry frowned, unsure how to say what he had to say next. 'Voldemort didn't send them here by chance, Katie, he wanted to take something away from me. You'll be safe once you're at Hogwarts, and he's not interested in your parents, because they aren't close to me, but until term starts you should try and keep your head down.'

'I'll be careful,' Katie promised fervently, 'what kind of Dark Mistress would I be if I succumbed to your rivals so easily.' She seemed almost enthused by the idea that Voldemort was targeting her because of Harry, and he couldn't help but smile.

'Dark Mistress?' Fleur's voice lilted in amusement.

'Katie enjoys acting the part Harry was accused of in the Daily Prophet last year,' Neville grinned. 'She goes around scaring the first years with threats of sacrifices.'

'She had half the Hufflepuff first years convinced I was going to use them in dark rituals for a whole list of implausible reasons,' Harry remembered with a fond smile. 'It's funnier now they know it isn't true.'

'Luna Lovegood helped,' Katie admitted, 'her reasons were always the best.'

'Which ones were hers?' Neville asked.

'My favourite was the one where Voldemort's newest mission was to seduce as many girls around our age group as possible to prevent the pure-blooded lines from ever being lost, but because he himself is impotent, he had to create Harry to do it for him, everything else is just an elaborate cover to fool Dumbledore, the Ministry and the Witch Weekly magazine who have opposed Voldemort since discovering his terrible secret.'

Fleur snorted with laughter. 'You are not very good at your mission, Harry,' she laughed, 'you've seduced one girl, and she's far from pure blooded.'

'I think I need to talk to Luna,' Harry groaned, suddenly the terrified blushing of the younger Hufflepuff girls made horrible sense.

'It's ok, Harry,' Katie beamed, patting him on the cheek, 'we warned them off.'

'You should probably try warning Romilda Vane once or twice more,' Neville sniggered. 'I've overheard talk of love potions.'

'I'll do it,' Fleur offered in a dangerously sweet voice.

'And no we're all accessories to murder,' Harry said dryly. 'Well I suppose Fleur isn't actually, being the murderer. Who is Romilda Vane?'

'Dark-haired, not unattractive, a year or so younger than us, apparently quite a dab hand at potions,' Katie giggled. 'I'd watch your food, Harry, and your back, or she'll be dragging you into broom closets after quidditch.'

'Thanks, Katie, but it won't be the first time I've been offered something inappropriate by a girl after quidditch.' Harry's comment earned him another pat on the cheek from a scarlet Katie who had clearly forgotten about that little incident. Fleur, who was fortunately unaware of that event, was still smirking, her hair cascading over one shoulder in a silver veil as she watched the their repartee.

'You should probably keep an eye out for potions though,' Neville added more seriously, 'I don't think she was actually joking.'

'Really?' Katie's tone did an abrupt u-turn, and settled into something so hostile it was normally reserved for addressing Slytherin's chasers.

'Yeah,' Neville looked a little bit awkward, 'come to think about it, they knew an awful lot about amortentia.'

'I'll keep an eye out,' Katie growled. 'If anyone tries anything like that I'll test my human transfiguration on them. Romilda can spend a few hours as a parakeet, or a flamingo. I'll take her to the lake and feed her to the squid...'

'Isn't she adorable,' Harry grinned at Fleur.

'Quite,' the blonde witch replied distantly, staring at Katie, who was obliviously continuing her line of vengeance through most of the animal kingdom.

'A mouse,' she decided triumphantly. 'I will feed her to Professor McGonagall.'

'And on that note,' Harry decided, realising how late it must be getting, 'we should go.'

He stood up to leave, patting Neville firmly on the shoulder. Katie slid out of her chair, smiled her goodbye to Fleur, then embraced him tightly, lingering for almost a minute before she released him. Harry couldn't help but notice that she still smelt like broom polish.

'You have a door to paint,' Neville grinned, as Harry stepped close to Fleur to apparate back to the Meadow.

'You have a cactus to look after,' Harry retorted. 'Have you explained the name to your gran yet?' Neville went a horribly sickly white colour, and went abruptly quiet. 'Good luck with that,' Harry grinned victoriously. 'I'm sure she'll approve.'

'She'll tell all her friends,' Neville whispered, horrified. 'They're all on the Wizengamot, the entirety of Britain's government will know why I named my cactus Hannah.'

Katie's giggles drowned out the soft snap of his apparition, and he could swear that they echoed all the way to the still white front door of their home. The moment they arrived he restored his face to its normal appearance, ignoring the brief moment of discomfort as his bones shifted, and flicking his now dark hair off his forehead.

Fleur paused before the door, her hand on the lock, and her expression conflicted.

'I'll paint it tomorrow, I promise,' Harry smiled, anticipating her thoughts.

'Thank you,' she smiled slightly, 'but that's not what I want to say.'

'Then say it,' Harry frowned.

'It will make things more complicated,' Fleur warned gently.

'I'd rather hear it than not,' Harry decided, suddenly nervous.

'She still likes you,' Fleur stated simply.

'Who?' Harry was momentarily nonplussed. 'Katie?' He laughed; Fleur was adorably jealous sometimes. 'We talked about it more than a year ago, and she said that she didn't feel that way anymore.'

'She lied,' Fleur murmured confidently. 'I could feel how much she wanted to be sitting where I was, all those mentions of the two of you being together at Hogwarts, her reaction to my use of my allure, and how angry she was with that foolish girl's idea of using amortentia on you.'

'She's just being protective,' Harry dismissed.

There's no way that she could still like me like that, Harry decided, not after how we've been such good friends, not after that article.

It was more trouble thinking about it than it was worth. Fleur was just being paranoid like he had occasionally been. It was understandable, he got worried about losing her sometimes, when she had been given that ring he had been afraid that it meant something to her, but he'd not seen it since. Harry knew Fleur would never betray him, and she must know that he would never leave her; he needed her too much for that, but considering a life in which she was absent still made him feel almost sick.

'I don't think she is,' Fleur shook her head gently, scattering her silver hair over her face, 'you'll see.'

'It doesn't matter even if she does, and I don't believe it at all,' Harry assured her firmly. 'I'm yours, ma princesse, and I have every intention of remaining so.'

Fleur stared at him for a long moment, blue eyes smouldering, then suddenly she was kissing him, pushing her lips almost painfully hard against his, and sliding her hands under his robes across his chest.

'We're outside,' Harry reminded her, when her lips trailed down his neck and he could breathe. They would be in full view of anyone who walked past the house.

'The Fidelius,' Fleur whispered huskily into his collarbone, not pausing in her kissing across his torso. 'Nobody can see us.'

'Oh,' he grinned, kissing her back ardently, and trailing his fingers teasingly up the inside of her thigh until she shivered, and pushed herself against him. 'I had forgotten about that.'

'I'll make you forget about it again,' Fleur promised, biting her lip to unsuccessfully try and stop herself moaning into his hair. She wrapped her legs around him as he picked her up and pinned her against the door, pressing her hips almost desperately into his, tilting her head back with a soft gasp, and scoring lines through the white surface of the door with the nails of her left hand.

It was definitely a good thing he hadn't repainted the door.

AN: Please read and review, thanks to everyone who does! It wasn't really all that suggestive, and very short, but just in case anyone's easily offended I did bother to put a warning.

P.S. Thanks to Avis soul who pointed out that I'd forgotten Harry was originally still wearing Riddle's face at the end of the chapter; I was almost tempted to leave it, but it has now been tweaked to iron out that little wrinkle.