AN: Once I completed this "Extra Credit" chapter I had ideas on ways to continue to expand this AU. After sitting down, working with my wonderful beta readers, fixing it up, and re-reading the entire thing I realized that this was the way I wanted to end this journey. It felt like the best possible send off to a set of AU characters I'd grown attached to (and I hope that you have as well).
What you see below takes place after the epilogue.
This marks the true end of my little college AU experiment. Big thank you to DJKopper, Proctorb_32, Palkey, x102reddragon, and Foreal the Chronicler for helping me to form what you see below. You all are awesome, and this chapter would be a shell of what it is without you.
Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, followed, and/or popped into the Discord server to express your thoughts. It means a lot to me.
We always love to see new people in our humble community, so feel free to stop by the Flowerpot Discord server to say hi.
discord .gg / f4a9Cg8rpB
Without further ado, please enjoy Extra Credit: Couch Co-Op
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Open. Close.
Open. Close.
Open. Close.
Open. Close.
"Harry," Hermione said, her hand falling onto his, preventing him from opening the little box again. "Stop. You'll mess the case up."
"And it's annoying," Angelina chimed.
"Sorry," he sighed, moving the small box out of his immediate grasp. "Just nervous, I guess."
"And apparently overthinking this whole thing," said Angelina, grabbing another sheet of paper. They were scattered across the entirety of the small table, each one part of a plan or their own plan entirely, each one different from the next, if only slightly.
"This one says "do literal magic." There's a drawing of a stick figure holding what appears to be the One Ring," Hermione commented with a laugh.
Harry snatched the paper from her hand, lazily balled it up, and tossed it towards the bin behind him. It struck the side, teetered on the edge before falling to the ground, partially unfolding upon impact.
"Oi," a voice called. Harry looked to the other end of the table as Ron's face stared at him on the tablet propped up. "We worked hard on that."
"We were drunk when we wrote half of them, Ron," Harry said, taking a deep breath.
He was incredibly nervous. It was one thing to be planning something like this with Ron, but it was another to invite others into the fold. He and Ron had been through a lot together, so it was only natural that he ask the red head for help with the biggest thing ever in his life.
Proposing. To Fleur.
It had been on his mind for a long time, they'd been together for over five years now, both out of school and already living together. They were happy, but Harry was ready to spend the rest of his life with her. So, one weekend when Hermione was visiting and Fleur was out of town for work, the two had gone shopping.
Several hours later, and a whole lot less money in his bank account, Harry had the ring.
Now he just needed the perfect proposal.
"How long have you been working on this?" questioned Angelina, picking up another paper.
Harry shrugged.
"Since before Hermione and I bought the ring."
"Why?"
"Because it needs to be perfect," Harry said with an exasperated sigh. "Fleur deserves to have the perfect proposal. I don't want to disappoint her."
"Right you are," Ron agreed. "Now, let's lock down-"
"Ron, if you say "Operation Waifu for Laifu" again I'm going to punch you through the screen," Harry hissed with annoyance. "We don't need another Operation. The last time we did that we slept on a stolen couch outside Fleur's old place."
Harry looked down, picking up a pen as he began writing on a blank sheet in front of him. Hermione and Angelina exchanged looks, both nodding to the other to say something. Some of the ideas on the papers in front of them had merit, but most were just…excessive.
Angelina widened her eyes and jerked her head towards him as she looked at Hermione. Hermione shook her head, repeating the motion back to Angelina.
"You know," Ron said, peering at the table through the screen, a pensive look on his face, "maybe we're overthinking this."
"Elaborate, Red."
Ron shrugged.
"Well, just think about Fleur? She loves Harry, doesn't really like spectacle, and her favorite idea of a date night is reading some nerdy book. Maybe it doesn't have to be perfect? Maybe it doesn't have to be something other than from the heart?"
Nobody spoke. Hermione and Angelina were stunned. They had been wanting to tell Harry for the last half hour that a proposal didn't need to be a lavish event. Not for Fleur. That Ron had been the one to voice such a sensible take was a pleasant surprise.
Angelina opened her mouth when someone yelled something on Ron's side of the video. Suddenly, Ron yelled "BEER O'CLOCK" at the person and turned back towards them, a smile on his face.
"Gotta go guys. You'll figure it out Harry, I'm sure. Use the top option. Text me once the deed is done." With that he ended the video call, the screen going dark.
Angelina frowned.
"I was going to say he's grown up but then he opens his mouth and I'm reminded that it's Ron."
She looked back over at Harry.
"So what's this option he's talking about?"
Harry looked around the table, searching for the one Ron meant, but which was no longer in its proper place. Finally he found it, reaching across the table to free it from under Hermione's cup. He handed it to Angelina, falling back into his seat with a huff.
"Next week. At the comic convention. You're still scheduled to be there?" he asked Hermione, who nodded.
"Yep, still in the panel about romance in science fiction. Are you two going to cosplay?"
Harry nodded.
"Yeah. She's going as Batgirl and I'm going as Nightwing."
Angelina winked at him.
"Ohh, should I make myself scarce so Barbara can have a Dick reveal?"
Harry gave her a deadpan look.
"That you know who Barbara Gordon and Dick Grayson are swells me with pride," he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
"Don't let Fleur hear you say I make you swell," she quipped, blowing him a kiss.
Harry groaned and stood up, chair scraping against the floor. He began gathering up the papers, putting them in what appeared to be a very specific order.
"I'm through for the night. I need to finish my Nightwing outfit. You two still planning on going out?"
Hermione nodded with a tight smile.
Harry dropped all the papers into a shoebox and looked back at them. "Lock up when you leave. Fleur won't be back until late."
He got up and made towards the bedroom before he stopped, though he didn't turn around.
"Not a word about this to her. Not a single word."
"Harry," Angelina called, catching his attention. He looked back. She never called him by his actual name, not since the first time they'd met.
He'd been Green Eyes for years, a badge of honor that he'd gladly taken, because not everyone was nickname-worthy, according to her. Angelina was like the older sister he never had, and he loved her for it, so the concerned look on her face was touching.
"Whatever you do, she'll love it. Trust me. I know my girl."
He nodded and disappeared into the bedroom, leaving a tense Angelina and Hermione behind. After a moment, Hermione sighed.
"Ugh, he's so on edge. Why is he overthinking this so much?"
Angelina laughed.
"Because, Quills, he loves that woman with everything he's got. Always has, always will. They've both changed a lot since they got together, but when it comes to matters of the heart? Sometimes he's still that young, wide-eyed freshman."
She popped out of her seat and brushed at her jeans.
"He's also scared," she continued, looking towards the bedroom.
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Why would he be scared? Fleur loves him."
"Because he's Harry, that's what he does. He's always worried about disappointing her, so he's scared that whatever he does won't match up to what she envisioned it being. Quite stupid, of course, but you know our guy."
She turned back towards Hermione, a wide grin spreading across her face.
"Now come on, let's go get shit faced."
Hermione rolled her eyes as she stood gracefully.
"We're not drinking that much," she said as they headed towards the door. Angelina patted her on the shoulder, winking at her.
"Sure, whatever you say. We'll just let the night take us where it will, yeah?"
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Fleur opened the door with a sigh, attempting to remain quiet. It was late, well past dark, and far beyond when she had expected to be home. The rebranding campaign at her company was going to be the death of her and half of the team, though she couldn't deny the results they were getting. As she slipped inside and locked the door she removed her heels, letting out a soft moan of relief as her feet thanked her for the freedom.
The light above the sink was on, as it always was when she had to work late, Harry made sure of it. He had started doing it as soon as they moved in together as a gesture to let her know he'd be waiting for her.
"You should never come home to complete darkness. The light lets you know you've got someone waiting for you."
She smiled at the words, remembering how serious his face had looked when telling her, as if the world depended on it. She had laughed then, but now she couldn't imagine coming home late without it.
She made her way into the kitchen and retrieved a bottle of water, leaning against the counter to crack the lid. She was too tired for food. Too tired to do much of anything except crawl into bed, snuggle up next to Harry, and pass out. As she chugged the water she looked to her left and frowned. Sitting next to the trash was a half-crumpled piece of paper.
She drank more of the water as she moved over towards the trash, shaking her head as she neared. Harry must have tossed it but missed, though he was usually good at picking things up if it didn't land the first time.
She leaned over to grab the paper, and just as her hand was on it something caught her eye, causing her to freeze. Standing up, she placed her water bottle on the counter and finished uncurling the page, eyes going wide at its contents.
At the top of the page were the words "Operation Waifu for Laifu."
Just under it, in parentheses, were the words "Operation Perfect Proposal"
As she read, she felt tears of joy threatening to surface. Harry was planning to propose. That thought warmed her heart and sent a jolt of electricity through her, revitalizing her after an exhausting day. She glanced through the page, written in Harry's handwriting, pencil marks and references to other pages covering the entire sheet. They hadn't talked much about anything, but their relationship had been serious since practically the beginning. She couldn't picture a time when she wouldn't want to be with Harry.
And now he wanted to marry her.
"Yes!" she cried out, pumping her fist in the air before freezing, hand clamping over her mouth and eyes going wide. Harry was asleep, and she didn't want to wake him, though every one of her instincts was telling her to march into their room, throw open the door, and have the best sex of her life.
She pushed that instinct away as she took several deep breaths.
Placing the paper on the counter she looked at it, not much more than crude drawings and a handful of words, stick figures acting out some wild fantasy, no doubt cooked up while he and Ron had been drunk. It all brought a smile to her face.
She was going to be getting married.
To Harry.
Emotions crashed into her like waves against a pier, and a few happy tears escaped as she quietly danced in place. Images flashed through her mind as she hummed a low bridal march.
A small, intimate ceremony, outside, in Spring, when the trees were alive and the sun had come out. She could smell the fresh cut grass and sweet scent of flowers.
Angelina's smiling face, sticking her tongue out at them as they held hands.
Ron in some absurd suit, laughing as Harry tries his best to be mad but failing miserably.
Gabby in the back, giggling at it all as she sends suggestive looks at Luc.
Fleur picked the crumpled page back up, doing her best to straighten it out, now considering it to be a treasured keepsake. She studied it, memorizing every detail, even the stupid little stick figures that looked as if they were holding the One Ring. At the bottom of the page, in tiny letters, it read: "Too complicated. See option one."
She let the knowledge of it all sink into every fiber of her being and it blew away the remaining exhaustion of the day.
Just as she was about to move to the bedroom, wake Harry up, and ask him about it, a thought struck her. Harry was meticulous about things, he had to be considering his line of work depended on him not missing details. The page mentioned an "option one," which would mean he had more pages. She tapped her chin as she thought.
She needed information, which meant she needed to talk to someone who knew what Harry was planning. Ron was out, he'd just as soon get into an argument about how much better soft serve ice cream is versus scoop than betray Harry's trust. She suspected Hermione knew, hell, she'd probably helped Harry buy the ring, but their famous friend also wouldn't give her anything.
She smiled and laughed.
Angelina was around last night because she and Hermione had planned to go out. Fleur was certain they would have hung around with Harry for a bit before leaving. Which meant she probably knew.
Good, she had her target.
Fleur neatly folded the sheet and placed it into her purse before making her way back into the bedroom, turning the light off as she left. Quickly changing into her pajamas, she slipped into bed, wrapping one arm around Harry. He stirred and turned towards her, barely opening his eyes as she kissed him deeply. She was still riding the emotional high and she wanted him to understand without words what he meant to her.
"Wha…" he started to say, before she placed a finger on his lips. She pecked his cheek again.
"Goodnight," she whispered as she snuggled up to him. She sighed contently as she looked up at him, a small smile forming when she realized he had already fallen back asleep.
Just before she fell asleep, in the twilight between awake and dreams, one final image played out in her head.
A small child, long silver blonde hair and emerald green eyes, smiled and laughed as she was chased through the yard by her father, his raven hair peppered with streaks of gray.
He called after the girl with a laugh, sending a loving look back at Fleur.
As the image faded Fleur let out one final contented sigh as she drifted off, the smile never leaving her face.
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Fleur tapped a manicured nail on the counter as she waited for the coffee maker to finish, dropping a bagel into the toaster while she waited. Normally she'd simply make a single cup as Harry was more of a tea drinker, but with Angelina staying with them a few days she knew a full pot would be necessary. As the machine dinged she breathed in the sweet aroma as she grabbed the pot and poured some into her waiting cup.
The smell of coffee in the morning reminded her of Harry. When they'd first moved in after she'd graduated he'd made sure there was a fresh batch waiting for her when she got up. No matter if he worked in the morning or had classes, he always made sure she awoke to the fresh smell.
She turned away from the counter and smiled, sipping on her mug, the taste easing her into the day. Harry had already left for work, some sort of emergency, but she was off to spend time with Angelina while she was in town. As Fleur turned around to grab a cup for her friend, knowing she didn't operate properly until she had at least two cups, she paused, glancing over at the trash.
Her smile brightened at the memory as she grabbed the page out of her purse and tucked it into her pocket. She heard the bathroom door open and grabbed the spare cup, moving to the pot and pouring some. She snatched the bagel from the toaster and a napkin from the counter as she made her way over to the table.
Angelina entered the room, dragging her feet like a zombie, and plopped down. Fleur set a steaming mug in front of her, taking the opposite seat.
Time to go to work.
"Good morning, Sunshine," Fleur said with a bubbly smile.
A groan of acknowledgement was all she received as Angelina pressed the cup to her lips.
"Did you and Hermione have fun?" she asked, a bit louder and cheerier than necessary, tearing the bagel in two and taking a bite out of it.
"Yeah," Angelina managed, taking another sip from the cup and grabbing the other half of the bagel. She was still half asleep and eyed Fleur suspiciously. Angelina always had an eye for spotting when things were out of place, so Fleur didn't expect her fun would last very long.
"Get up to anything else last night?"
Angelina took a bite and shook her head.
Fleur raised an eyebrow.
"No? Nothing? No pre-game warmup? Nothing at all?"
Angelina finished her half of the bagel and swiped Fleur's, taking another sip of coffee.
"Nope," she said. "Left from here, got some drinks, came back. Pretty typical night. Though I was shocked at how much Quills could drink. Never struck me as the type."
Fleur reached into her pocket and pulled out the page.
"Are you sure about that?" she questioned. She carefully unfolded the page and placed it in the middle of the table. Angelina's eyes went wide for the briefest moment, almost too fast to catch, but Fleur was far too observant to miss.
Angelina sighed, finished off her cup and got up to walk over to the machine. She poured herself another and took a long sip before turning around and leaning against the counter.
"Where'd you find that?"
Fleur gestured towards the trash.
"It was sitting on the floor when I got back last night. I was about to toss it out but the writing caught my eye. Want to explain?"
Angelina sighed again, pinching the bridge of her nose as she walked back over to the table to sit back down.
"Harry's gonna kill me," she muttered. She looked up at Fleur and narrowed her eyes as the blonde barely contained her laughter. "It's not that funny."
Fleur's composure broke and she laughed, a hand going up in front of her face as she did.
"It's actually really funny. How long have you known?"
"I only found out last night."
Fleur raised an eyebrow. "How long has he been planning this?"
Angelina shrugged.
"Before he bought the ring, that's for sure. No idea when that was."
Fleur nodded. Harry had been acting a bit odd the last few weeks, though she had simply chalked it up to stress from work. They were in the middle of a big acquisition and he'd been put in charge of a small team for the first time. Looking back, she mentally kicked herself. Harry didn't let work get to him like that, so she should have known better.
"He's really freaked out," Angelina continued, causing Fleur's eyes to open wide.
"What? Why?"
"You know how he is, Blondie. He hates to disappoint you, so he's got this weird idea in his head that the proposal has to be nothing short of perfection." She gestured to the paper. "He's got like three dozen of those, that's just one of the stupider ones."
Fleur's heart fluttered a bit, something she thought she'd gotten over after being together with Harry for so long, but there it was again. They'd both put a lot of effort into their relationship, especially in the early years when things were still uncertain. Her being away for work and him being in school hadn't made things easy, especially when her father would pop back up, but they'd always worked through it when things got rough.
He knew she didn't need perfection, she just needed him.
She thought she'd made that very clear, but he was stubborn. More stubborn than her sometimes. She looked down at the page fondly, tracing a few of the letters with her finger.
"Oh, Harry…"
She looked back up at Angelina with a raised eyebrow.
"When's he going to do it?"
Angelina immediately put her hands up, shaking her head.
"Nope. Nope nope nope. Not getting that out of me."
"You folded like a wet noodle when I showed you the page, you're really going to clam up on me now?" Fleur asked.
"You knowing he's going to propose doesn't really change anything," Angelina mused, "you both know you're in it to win it, so that isn't new information. Knowing the "when" is different."
Fleur narrowed her eyes.
"Name your price."
Angelina folded her arms across her chest and the two stared at each other. Fleur could see the wheels turning in her head. Her best friend was reasonable, never one to be led by her emotions, so she knew something could convince her to spill the tea.
Finally, Angelina smirked.
"Passes to every one of Ron's games that Harry can get tickets to for the rest of the year. He only gets two freebies per match and he always gives them to Harry. Bill's been wanting to go."
"Done," Fleur said immediately. Ron wouldn't be happy, Harry was his good luck charm after all, but all's fair in love and war. She'd make it up to him.
"Next weekend, at the convention."
Fleur smiled brightly.
Of course he would do it at the convention. They'd been looking forward to it since they got tickets last year, planning their entire vacation schedules around it. They were going all out with cosplay and everything, something they had enjoyed putting together immensely. It would be the perfect opportunity for such a big step. She mentally berated herself. She should have thought of that.
Fleur looked back to Angelina, a new fire in her eyes that matched her smile.
"Get dressed."
"What's the rush?" Angelina complained.
"We're going to get breakfast then go shopping. I need something to finish off my Batgirl outfit and if my future husband wants his proposal to be perfect then dammit I'm going to make sure it is."
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He smiled as another person took their picture, a random passerby wanting a picture of Harry and Fleur. It'd been like this all day, not that he minded. At least not at first. They had worked hard on their outfits, Fleur going so far as to make hers out of higher quality material, and it showed.
He looked over at her as she shook the person's hand, chatting quickly about something. She looked amazing, the purple leather of her outfit popping as a nice contrast to the yellow gloves and utility belt. Her black cape, also yellow on the underside, shined under the warm sun, a perfect match for the cowl affixed on her head.
Except for her silver-blonde hair, she'd flatly refused to dye it or wear a wig, she looked like she'd stepped off the cover of Batgirl #35, complete with a dummy purple cell phone camera.
She looked sexy.
"At least it's not hot out here," Fleur said, turning back to him with a smile that could drive anyone wild.
She was in her element, surrounded by people who loved all the same things they loved. It was the perfect atmosphere. Being dressed as Nightwing meant he didn't get a utility belt, Grayson opting for a more streamlined suit, which left little room for him to carry the ring. He'd modified one of the gloves to have a small space in the inseam, just the right size to hold it.
"Right?" he said. "All this leather in a scorching heat? No thank you."
He'd tried all day, multiple times. When they'd first arrived. Before heading to Hermione's panel. Just after lunch. He'd even tried moments ago, just before someone else had stopped them for pictures. That had been the recurring roadblock all day. In his quest for the perfect opportunity to propose, he'd forgotten that today was the unofficial "cosplay day" of the convention. The day where most people would be out showing off their outfits.
Which meant more people looking for photos.
Fleur had been incredible all day, sticking to him like glue, walking with either her hand in his or her arm wrapped around him, sending him loving looks. It was different, they weren't normally so affectionate in public, but he wouldn't complain. She'd had a smile on her face all day and sometimes he thought he caught a hint of mischief in her eyes, as if she knew something he didn't.
He shook his head and briefly looked around. They were alone, standing in front of the convention center, and nobody was asking for a photo. It was the perfect moment. He reached into his glove.
"Fleur…?" he asked, and she turned towards him, that smile she'd been wearing since they arrived returning.
"Excuse me," a voice from behind them called and he resisted the urge to growl.
Turning around he saw a young woman, probably no more than a few years younger than himself, dressed as Batgirl and looking a bit unsure.
"Yes?" Fleur asked.
"We're, uh, getting all the Batgirl's out here together for a few group photos. They're going to be going on the website. Would you be interested…?"
The woman trailed off, a half question lingering as she looked at Fleur. Harry almost laughed. Fleur's costume was top notch, and it seemed to intimidate many, much to Fleur's horror. She smiled before doing something she'd done all day. She looked to Harry for approval. He'd noticed it, anytime someone asked for a separate photo, she made sure it was alright. He was flattered, but ultimately just wanted her to be happy.
"They await the ultimate Batgirl," he told her in a hushed whisper. Fleur pecked him on the cheek before rushing off with the unknown woman, who was suddenly very excited. They made their way towards the large fountain in front of the convention center, crowding around the steps leading up to it, dozens of people, young and older, dressed as the same character.
Harry looked on as several of the others began complimenting her costume, a blush forming on her face. She showed it off, talking quickly and letting one of them feel the fabric of her gloves. He sighed and accepted what had been gnawing at him since lunch.
Today wasn't the day.
It had to be perfect, and every perfect opportunity had been perfectly ruined by perfectly innocent circumstances. So it was back to the drawing board. He felt his glove, running his index finger over the circular bump on the inside. Another time and place.
"Well, she certainly drew a lot of attention today," a familiar voice called from behind him.
He turned around and smiled as Gabby approached him, pulling him into a hug before standing beside him to look at Fleur. She was slowly being pushed towards the center of the group, both the photographer and those around her understanding that she should be the focus of the photos.
"Didn't think this was your scene," he said casually before looking down at her. "How did you get tickets anyway?"
Gabby shrugged.
"I have my ways."
"Riiiight. So where's Luc?"
"Working."
Gabby swatted his arm before pointing at Fleur.
"She's lookin' fine today, right? It's why she's been getting so much attention." She looked up at Harry with a smirk as his eyes went wide and he shook his head.
"Nah, that's not it. I mean, yes, it's part of it, but she's really proud of the whole costume. Most of the material is studio-grade, at least that's what she told me. It looks stupidly good, especially the leather. It doesn't have that cheap look like most leather cosplay does, including mine. That's why she's getting even more attention."
He looked down at Gabby and she punched him in the arm.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"Harry, you wonderful dork, I love the fact that you don't want to objectify my sister, but she's a fucking goddess. The words 'dat ass' originated from her. Look at it," Gabby commanded, pointing towards Fleur.
Harry looked over just as Fleur turned around and he couldn't deny it.
She looked like a goddess.
In tight leather.
Very tight leather.
Harry blushed and Gabby laughed, hugging his arm.
"You're such a dork, but I love you for it. Guessing the proposal didn't happen today?"
Harry whirled around to look at her, panic in his face.
"Who told you about that?!"
"Relax," she said calmly, "Pried it out of Hermione ages ago. Don't worry, I haven't told anyone."
Harry shook his head as he chuckled.
"You're still as devious as ever, you know that?"
Gabby nodded as they watched Fleur say her goodbyes to several of the people she was with. She gave Harry a half hug with one arm.
"You love me for it."
Harry shook his head again as she left to meet Fleur halfway, the two sharing a tight hug before they began posing for a selfie. Today wasn't the perfect proposal, but he'd find another one. Come up with a different plan that was better.
It was what she deserved.
.
.
"Did he suspect I told you?" Fleur whispered to Gabby as they posed for another selfie.
"Of course not," Gabby replied, her voice one of mock offense. "I'm adorable and Harry loves me."
"And?"
"And I blamed it on Hermione."
"Good thinking," Fleur said as they pulled apart. "Is he going to try soon?"
Gabby shook her head.
"Nah, I don't think so. It's on him, in one of his gloves, but I think he's been trying all day. He looks a bit defeated."
"Dammit," Fleur cursed. "I've been trying to stay with him all day but we keep getting pulled into pictures."
"You keep getting pulled into pictures," the younger blonde corrected. Fleur raised an eyebrow, causing Gabby to groan in frustration.
"I swear, you're both helpless. Sis, you look like every nerd's wet dream right now. People want to be seen with you. Harry just wants to be alone with you. The two can't coexist."
Fleur chewed on her lip as her mind went into overdrive. She should have anticipated this, but she was willing to admit that she'd gotten lost in the excitement of it all. The convention was magical, a wonderland to lose herself in, and she'd been so drawn into the atmosphere that she didn't think he wouldn't be comfortable proposing with someone standing next to them.
Gabby hugged her before stepping back, a smirk on her face.
"He probably won't try again, but if he's going for perfection then it'll be somewhere that means something to both of you. He may have a boring job, but Harry's a romantic at heart. So wherever he refocuses his efforts, that'll be it."
Fleur thought for a moment before an idea formed in her head. She wouldn't push him, but there wasn't anything saying she couldn't set the mood. She smiled down at Gabby.
"I love you little sister."
Gabby smirked.
"I know."
.
.
"Tell me again," Harry started, taking a sip of his wine, "Why are we still in costume?"
They'd left the convention late, far later than they had planned, though he hadn't minded. The smile on Fleur's face as she kept getting approached for pictures was one thing. The absolute shock and awe she experienced when approached by the lead designer of a major corporation had been the highlight of his day.
He damn near pushed her to go speak with the woman, ensuring her he'd be fine on his own. Two hours later, as the sun was setting, she returned, star struck but no less radiant.
Now they were on top of their building sitting on the couch in full cosplay, though he had unzipped the top portion of his so that it looked more like a vest, exposing the black, tight-fitted undershirt beneath. His material hadn't been as breathable as Fleur's, so he'd done what he could to cool off.
"Because I'm on top of the world, I needed a drink, and I look damn good. So I want to enjoy it a bit longer," Fleur replied as she leaned back on the couch and removed the yellow gloves from her hands.
They'd come to the roof, a bottle of wine and two glasses in hand, just to watch the stars. It was something of a weekly tradition for them. Lower the top of the awning and simply gaze up, letting the night sky entertain while they listened to music.
It was uniquely them.
But tonight felt different.
He looked over at her, the cowl discarded, her long hair free from its confinement, and she seemed to glow in the moonlight. He smiled as her eyes glistened with the reflection of the sky, and he could tell she was truly on cloud nine. Her hard work and dedication to a passion project, the high-quality recreation of the suit worn by her favorite superhero, had potentially led her to her dream job. He couldn't be happier for her.
Without effort, his mind floated back to Ron's words a week ago.
"Maybe it doesn't have to be perfect? Maybe it doesn't have to be something other than from the heart?"
A wave of emotion flooded over him as his mind cleared for the first time in weeks. He'd been so stupid, trying to plan some perfect proposal at the perfect moment in the perfect location. She deserved everything, and he wanted to give that to her, but they'd never needed perfection. Not in all the time they'd known each other.
Because they had each other, and that was enough for each of them.
Their relationship had been defined by imperfection, their respective families being what they were. Fleur had done her best to escape the shadow of her family, just as he'd done his best to leave behind the pain of his own, but it'd never been perfect. They'd stumbled, they'd sometimes fallen, but they'd been there to pick each other up.
Hell, the start of their relationship had been one big imperfect conversation-
Harry froze as he looked down at the couch and another wave of clarity hit him fast. Instinctively he knew and smiled.
It all started with a couch. This couch. It was only fitting that it be part of the beginning of the rest of their lives.
Slowly he reached into the lining of his glove and extracted the ring, squeezing it in his hand as he half turned towards her.
"Fleur…"
She turned towards him with a raised eyebrow.
"Yeah?"
He took a deep breath. His chest pounded and his stomach jumped over and over.
"Fleur, I know we've never been perfect to each other, and that's alright. I know we don't always agree on everything, but I love you and I know you love me too. And I just want to say that you looked amazing today and I'm so happy for you that you're probably getting the opportunity at your dream job. And I'll do everything I can to help, if you want me to. I mean, I don't know much about design, but I'm pretty good with technology and-"
Fleur cut off his rambling with a gentle hand on his cheek. He looked up and saw love in her eyes. Love and understanding.
"Harry," she said softly, a small smile on her face. "It's okay. It's me. Just me."
He desperately searched her eyes, emboldened by the gentle touch of an always warm hand that still cupped his cheek. There was no hesitation nor fear in her gaze. Just silent, unbridled joy.
In that instant everything clicked into place. Her closeness the entire day, her affectionate touches, her uncertainty at leaving him to pursue her own agenda, it all made sense.
She knew.
She knew what he'd planned and she'd been trying to make sure it happened the way he wanted it to.
And somehow, despite knowing he'd been found out, that made it so much easier. He took a shaky breath.
"You make me happy, Fleur. Happier than I've even been. Happier than I ever thought I could be. Happier than I ever thought I deserved. And I want to spend the rest of my life doing the same for you."
He opened his hand and held the ring between his fingers.
"Fleur Isabella Delacour, will you marry me?"
There was no cry of excitement, no shriek of joy. She simply placed her forehead against his and brushed her thumb lightly against his cheek.
"Yes, of course," she whispered.
Before he had time to process, before his mind could register the fact that she'd actually said anything, she gripped his neck and slammed her mouth onto his with heated, fiery passion. As he finally regained his senses, he kissed her back, the world fell out of focus, and all that was left was her.
Between kisses, in one smooth motion, she straddled him before breaking their heated exchange. His hands squeezed her hips. She looked down at him and it was as if he were looking upon her for the first time. Like what he'd seen before had been the after image of a distant star, still bright but not the real thing and only now, in the glow of the moon, was his vision of her true.
In her eyes he saw a new depth to their affection for each other, a new understanding of what had and always would be between them. Yet, alongside that love there was something else. Something instinctual. Something almost primal in its appearance.
Hunger
She stretched out her arm, admiring the ring on her left hand as she moved slowly in his lap. Harry would never know how she got it out of his hand and onto her finger, and Fleur would never tell him, but it would never matter.
"Mrs. Potter. I like the sound of that," she said with a smile before she looked back down at him, that hunger still in her eyes. She was in full control and he felt like prey in the sights of a predator.
And he didn't want to be anywhere else.
"This calls for celebration," she said. Her voice was low and husky, with an undercurrent of desire. It sent a jolt of excitement through him and his eyes went glassy, as if some magical force had captured him in its allure. He licked his lips.
"What did you have in mind?" he asked, eyes roaming up and down. There was an unmistakable air of excitement as she smirked at him.
Slowly she unzipped the front of her suit, her bare chest freeing from the confines of the purple fabric. She ran one finger down his chest until she made it to his belt and unlatched it with ease. She leaned in close, never breaking eye contact.
"Couch Co-Op?"