It was the sun that woke him, stirring him from slumber with its gentle rays peeking through the window, birds chirping in the trees. His mind was hazy as he opened his eyes, a familiar feeling that he'd come to associate with a good time and a night out. He raised his head slightly as his vision adjusted to the light and realized he was in an unfamiliar place. Not the first time he'd woken up this way, though his mind began to take stock of the situation as his memories came back.

He smiled.

Her dress, the party, and how the night had ended all rushed back to him, causing him to release a contented sigh and put his head back on the pillow. Normally he'd be up immediately, making a hasty retreat or waking up whoever was with him, but something felt different. For the first time in recent memory he felt calm, almost serene, as if this was where he belonged. He couldn't imagine himself being anywhere else.

Cool air broke his thoughts as he shivered, and he finally looked down at Fleur.

She was curled up next to him. Not draped over him, that would have likely been an incredibly uncomfortable way to sleep, but she was pushing into his side even as she was doing her best to curl into a ball.

She also had every last bit of the covers on the bed.

He couldn't stop the small chuckle that escaped and the noise stirred her. She stretched out and gently flipped onto her back before looking over at him. He grabbed some of the covers and threw them over his chest.

"Bonjour," she said softly, a smile tugging at her lips. He smiled back.

"Hello to you too."

"I see you're still 'ere."

"Should I leave?" he asked with a frown and she quickly shook her head.

"Non. I just…didn't know if you'd be 'ere when I woke up."

He sent her a warm smile, finding her hand under the covers and giving it a brief squeeze. He looked up at the ceiling as his face spread into a wide smile.

"I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be right now."

He felt her eyes leave him and look to the ceiling, both of them suddenly finding it very interesting.

"Last night was…" she started.

"Yeah," he agreed. "That thing with your magic and the floating. That was…"

"When you 'ad me against the wall. It was…"

"Wow," they said in unison before looking at each other. They held the other's gaze for a moment before both broke out into laughter and she pounced on him, scooping his mouth into a deep kiss as she climbed onto him, straddling his hips. She leaned back, giving him a full view of her, and he was sure that she was teasing him.

"You have morning breath," he quipped, earning him a swat. She folded her hands over her chest, covering herself and stuck out her bottom lip in a pout that would have made him weak in the knees if he were standing. "You're also adorable when you pout."

He ran the tips of his fingers up and down her side. She shivered and jerked away each time he hit one spot. He mentally noted that she was ticklish before looking around.

"I had no idea you lived above the shop," he said before looking back up at her. "Is this new or have you always lived here?"

She shook her head as she leaned back down, pressing her cheek into his chest. Instinctively he began to run his fingers through her soft silver blonde locks. He couldn't be certain, but he thought he heard a purr just before she sighed and attempted to snuggle further.

"It's always been up 'ere. My papa would sleep 'ere if it got too late while 'e was working on a piece. I moved in after finishing Beauxbatons. As I took over more of the shop there was less for 'im to do, so it became my 'ome."

"Can't believe I never realized there was an entire apartment up here."

She shrugged.

"Anytime you came over it was either to 'ave 'Edwig looked at or we'd eat downstairs. Or go on a picnic. There was no reason to come up 'ere. Not until last night."

"You don't find it difficult to separate work from everything else?" he asked.

Fleur propped herself up and looked out the window with a distant gaze and he wondered if he'd overstepped. For him, while he was passionate about Quidditch, the separation his flat gave set a barrier between work and life. It kept the two compartmentalized, not bleeding over and taking over the other.

"In a lot of ways, the shop is my life," she finally said before looking back down at him. "I've always loved it 'ere, so I never felt the need to detach it from whatever falls outside of my career. This place 'olds meaning to me, far more than a random office at the Ministry would. It also means I can keep my expenses down."

She frowned and chewed on her bottom lip. He could tell she was searching for the right words, and that whatever she wanted to say was important, so he remained silent.

"What do we do now?" she finally asked.

"Well, there is one thing that we need to address right away," he replied, his own brow knitting in concentration. "We've got to discuss something important."

"And that is?"

He gripped her hips briefly, running his fingers over the spot he knew would get a reaction. She shuddered slightly in response.

"I've got to get you back for that broom polishing comment from last night!"

Quickly his hands moved to her sides and he began to tickle her. She laughed and dove to try and get away but he was faster, grabbing her sides briefly and sending her back to the bed before launching another attack against her sides. She tried to swat him away, but her efforts were half-hearted as her smile brightened alongside her laughter. Finally he relented, plopping back onto the bed next to her and propping himself up with his hand.

"That was not funny mister," she muttered, yet her smile told another story.

"A counterattack was necessary. I have my pride to worry about." He grabbed her hand and rubbed her knuckles, kissing them once before releasing.

"To answer your question, I don't know. What I do know is that this," he gestured between the two of them, "feels like something special. I don't know what that'll look like, but I'd say it's worth exploring. What do you say?"

She nodded before her stomach growled, causing her cheeks to flush as he chuckled.

"Shall we get something to eat then? It must be past midday by now," she said casually, attempting to hide her embarrassment.

Harry froze at her words and everything came to a halt as he remembered what day it was. Quickly he jumped out of the bed, grabbing his shirt and looking for his pants, scrambling about the room with frantic energy. He was going to be strung up by his toes.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," he mumbled. "Where are my damn pants?"

"Over in the corner," she said, pointing to the far corner. "What's the rush?"

"I'm ridiculously late for practice and they're going to roast me alive for it. Shit, shit, shit. Oliver is going to be pissed."

He stepped into his pants, hopping on one leg as he tried to position the other before finally hitting his mark. He grabbed his white shirt, tossing it on and quickly buttoning it before going back to the bed. He leaned down and kissed her, much more tenderly than most of their kisses had been the night before, but with all of the same meaning.

"I'll come back? Tonight? We can talk."

She nodded, pecking him lightly on the cheek before making a shooing motion with her hand.

"Oui, I'd like that. Now go, before you are even more late."

With a single cocky smile at her he popped away.

He landed at the apparition point and began sprinting down the hall, not even registering the fact that he was wearing no shoes. He rounded the corner, silently thankful that the place appeared abandoned and charged into the locker room, only to stop dead at the sight.

There, sitting in front of his locker, was Angelina. She looked up from her playbook as he appeared and her eyes instantly darkened. She shut the book with a resounding thud, tossing it down as she stood up. She made her way over and he tried to put on his best smile.

"Angelina, hi. I can explain-" he started but she held up a hand, silencing him instantly. He stood there and looked down. He suddenly felt like a preteen Seeker standing in front of his older teammate, having disappointed her with his lackluster skills.

"Oliver said I could handle this if I wanted. He's not even that upset," she said. Her glare pierced him like a sharp knife, digging itself deep into him and he tried his best not to step back.

"I know, I'm sor-" he tried again, but she simply held her hand up again.

"Do you know what you've done?"

He shook his head.

"Let me explain it to you then." She stepped closer. "You've lost me twenty galleons."

His mouth fell open in shock. Of all the things he'd expected, a lecture about responsibility and acting like an adult being top of the list, a bet was the last thing on his mind.

"I'm sorry- wait, what?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose.

"You couldn't just skip practice today, could you? You couldn't do the irresponsible thing and just not show up. Of course not, you're Harry!"

"I'm so confused right now," he admitted.

"I bet Luc and Katie that you wouldn't show up for practice today. They said you would. You owe me twenty galleons."

Before he could respond she hugged him tightly. Instinctively he hugged her back, though his mind was reeling from the quick shift. As she stepped back her glare was gone, replaced with her normal mischievous grin. She pushed him towards his locker.

"Get dressed and meet us out on the pitch. It's a light day but Oliver wants to get one good set of full team drills in before we call it. I can already tell that we've got our Seeker back." As he turned back towards her she winked at him. "Love looks good on you, by the way."

She stepped towards the door. As she reached the entrance to the locker room she turned back.

"Also, congratulations."

"For?" he asked, confused.

She rolled her eyes, as if her meaning was obvious.

"For having the fortitude to wait until after leaving the party to go at it like wild animals."

Her laughter echoed long after she'd left.

.

.

Fleur stepped out of the fireplace and quickly moved aside. The atrium of the main Ministry building was always busy, and she needed a moment to center herself. Just as soon as she stepped aside, the fireplace roared to life again, a short man stepping out, hurrying towards his destination. She dusted herself off and took a deep breath. She wasn't completely sure being here was a good idea, but she knew it was necessary.

Her allure had been on her mind for the entire week, the way it acted when she was with Harry making her happy but also giving her pause. Fleur liked puzzles, each broom was like a small puzzle itself, but she hated surprises. She especially hated them when they involved her. It was distracting her, and she didn't want her work to suffer because she couldn't figure out how to Veela properly.

She began walking towards the main administrative office, a familiar route she'd taken many times. At first she'd reached out to Gabby, hoping her sister would be available to talk with her. Fleur wasn't so arrogant or stuck up to not be able to admit her sister had mastered her allure with such speed to make her jealous. She was quite envious of her younger sister. Sadly, she'd been told Gabby would be in court all week.

That left her with one option.

She entered the office and spotted the secretary, walking up to the young man and stopping in front of his desk.

"Is she in a meeting?" Fleur asked politely.

The young man looked up and his eyes widened briefly before he shook his head.

"No, she's not-hey!" he shouted after her as she swiftly made her way past him. She ignored his protests and opened the door, entering the office with a confident stride.

"You need an appointment!" the secretary said as his brain caught up with him and he barrelled into the office, stepping in front of Fleur to block her from entering the office further.

"It's alright, Marcus," Apolline said with a smile as the young man turned towards his boss. "My daughter is always welcome to interrupt anything. Cancel my next meeting please?"

Marcus nodded.

"Yes ma'am," he said immediately. "Do you need anything else?"

Apolline shook her head.

"No, we'll be fine. Do be a dear and shut the door on your way out."

As the door closed behind him Fleur didn't move. She hadn't been in her mother's office in many years, but it hadn't changed. Same curtains, halfway opened, a perfect view of the city just beyond the window. Various pictures were framed on the shelves behind the desk, all of their family. Gabby and Fleur when they were younger. The entire family at Gabby's graduation. A random family dinner when her father had taken a picture of them. Fleur's eyes paused on one she hadn't seen before.

It was her and her father, the day she received her mastery certificate. The letter, guild seal displayed prominently, was held out in front of her as she beamed at the camera. Her eyes were glued to the photo and she saw, in the background, her mother smiling at them.

That felt like a lifetime ago.

"It's good to see you, my flower," Apolline said, coming around her desk and settling into one of the chairs on the other side. She gestured for Fleur to sit. Her mother had never sat on this side of her desk with her before, preferring the comfort, and power, of her normal seat during visits. She moved to the chair and sat down. She hadn't come to fight, she'd come for advice.

"What's wrong, my dear?" Apolline asked.

Fleur raised an eyebrow.

"Why would you think something is wrong?"

Apolline laughed lightly and patted Fleur's hand.

"I know my children, dear, and our relationship has been strained enough that I know you don't come here lightly. Gabby is in court all week and you haven't gone to your father, so there must be something."

"Must there be a reason for me to visit?" Fleur said quietly, suddenly feeling much younger.

She didn't hate her mother, she could never hate her, but that she could still see right through her even after years of conversations through gritted teeth made her previous outbursts feel so petty.

"Never," Apolline said before sighing.

Fleur looked at her, and for perhaps the first time in her life, she saw age in her mother. There were lines around the corner of her eyes. Gray streaks marred her blonde hair and wrinkles were beginning to show on her forehead. Fleur had never given much thought to how their relationship had affected her mother. Only now did she wonder if she should have.

Apolline smiled at her.

"I want to apologize-no, wait," her mother tried before stopping. "No, apologies are for politicians. I want to say I'm sorry."

"Sorry?"

Apolline nodded.

"Yes. I've been terribly unfair to you, Fleur. Terribly unfair for far, far too long."

Fleur shook her head.

"No, mama, you ha-"

"I have," Apolline interrupted, her voice piercing through Fleur's protest, ending it early. "You and I are so much alike, in so many ways. Both of us are driven. Both of us are incredibly passionate. Both of us are far, far too stubborn for our own good."

She took Fleur's hand and squeezed it softly.

"I was so convinced that your place was some grand, sweeping position that would change the entire world. I was blinded by that belief and I lost sight of what was important."

She looked over to the photo on the shelf of Fleur holding her mastery certificate before turning back.

"I forgot that your happiness should be all that I was concerned with."

"What changed?" Fleur asked.

She was happy to mend things, to close the divide that had formed between them, but she knew her mother didn't change her mind without reason. She knew because her own mind was much the same.

"I had a conversation with someone who made me realize that your father was right, had been right, and I was being foolish."

She patted Fleur's hand again.

"But enough of that. My conscious is not why you came here. Whatever you need, I'm here to help you."

Fleur bit her lip and took a deep breath, letting it out in a long exhale.

"How…How did you get control of your allure?" Fleur asked.

"It took me quite some time," Apolline replied, shaking her head before chuckling. "Far longer than it took Gabby."

Fleur laughed as well. Gabby was never one to do things at the same pace as everyone else, and it somehow made her feel better that she'd outdone even their mother.

"I was just a bit younger than you, I think," Apolline said before standing up and walking over to a far shelf. She grabbed a picture and returned to her seat, handing it to Fleur. It was of her mother and father. They were far younger, but it was unmistakably from their wedding day. They were dancing, her head resting on his shoulder and Fleur felt as if she could hear the music playing as they swayed.

"It was not long after I met your father. He was very susceptible to it, I'm afraid, and it shames me to say that my control around him was lacking."

Fleur handed her the photo back and Apolline looked down at it, running her fingers sentimentally over the front.

"He was so understanding. He believed in me, even when I didn't believe in myself. He told me I was the brightest witch he'd ever met, and that there wasn't anything I couldn't do if I put my mind to it. His constant encouragement kept me working at it, until one day I did it. He was so happy for me that he proposed to me the next day. No ring or plan, just asked me to marry him on the spot."

She placed the picture on the desk and looked back at Fleur with a concerned look.

"Are you having trouble again?"

Fleur shook her head.

"No, nothing like that. In fact, I think I've finally gotten it fully under control."

Apolline smiled.

"That's wonderful dear! You've struggled for so long, so it must be a relief."

Fleur chewed her lip a bit, nodding slightly. Apolline raised an eyebrow.

"But you're conflicted about something?" she guessed. Fleur nodded again. "Because it's tied up in your feelings for Harry Potter?"

Fleur wasn't shocked that her mother had worked it out. In fact, that made it better, because it meant she might be able to help Fleur understand why she felt so conflicted. She should be ecstatic about the change. How she didn't have to constantly worry about influencing others when she was in public. So why was she struggling?

"I should be happy," she said, not looking at her mother. "But I question if it's my feelings for Harry or my own strength that's the source, and that bothers me."

"Why can't it be both?"

Fleur looked up at her mother.

"Both?"

Apolline chuckled, but Fleur could tell she wasn't laughing at the situation, nor was she doing it out of malic.

"You've always worn your heart on your sleeve, my flower. It's one of the things that I love most about you. Your heart is on your sleeve but you guard it so closely and each time it snags on something you hurt more than most. Your sister thrived under the attention her magic brought. She grabbed it by the neck and pulled at it until it was hers to do with what she pleased. You were never going to be that way."

She turned her chair so she was facing Fleur fully.

"Tell me, Fleur, honestly. Does Harry make you happy?"

Fleur smiled and she felt a tear escape and roll down her cheek, though she didn't wipe it away or try to stop it. They were happy tears. She nodded.

"He makes me so happy, mama. It's as if a piece of me that I didn't know was missing has now been returned."

Apolline reached up and wiped the tear from Fleur's eye.

"So why does it matter if that happiness is the source of your control? Perhaps that happiness is the trigger for you to find the control that was there all along. Or perhaps they are completely unrelated and just a happy coincidence. At the end of the day, you've found your control."

Apolline stood and held out her arms. Standing quickly, Fleur hugged her and the warmth of her mother's embrace lifted a weight from her shoulders. Undid a knot that had formed at the base of her neck. Something she'd been carrying around for such a long time finally melted away.

"I love you, mama. And I've missed you."

"I love you too, little flower. I always will." After several moments the two broke apart, holding each other at arm's length.

"What you're feeling," Apolline said, "some might call that love. Whatever you do, I don't think you need to worry about that man hurting you. He seems to care for you deeply."

"Any advice?"

Apolline gave her a devilish smirk.

"Shag him rotten."

Fleur gasped, releasing her mother and swatting her arm.

"Mother!"

Apolline shrugged as she returned to the other side of her desk.

"What? I've seen him. I'm just saying that you certainly know how to pick them. If I was twenty five years younger…"

Fleur blushed deeply and threw up her hands.

"Gross! You're just as shameless as Gabby!"

Apolline raised an eyebrow as the smirk returned to her face.

"My dear, who do you think she gets it from?"

Fleur simply groaned and put her hands in her face.

.

.

It was late, nearly midnight if he had to guess, but he couldn't sleep. The moon's glow was filtering in through the window, the starlight adding an extra beauty to the light. He should be sleeping, he knew that, but all he could do was stare up at the ceiling. He felt a hand reach up to his cheek and turn his face. Fleur looked down at him as she forced him to hold her gaze.

"You need to sleep, 'Arry. Tomorrow is the final match."

He nodded and let out a long sigh.

"I know, but I can't get my mind to stop running."

Fleur huffed.

"I believe the idea of what we just did was to have all thoughts removed from your 'ead, non?"

He laughed and grabbed her hand, kissing her palm.

"I can assure you, that was a rousing success. For a time." He frowned. "I just can't stop thinking about tomorrow. I'm worried. I know I shouldn't be, but I am."

Fleur sighed and sat up fully and looked down at him with concern.

"What can I do to 'elp?"

He looked out the window again, a gentle breeze blowing the trees in the distance. He turned back to her and was just about to tell her that he would head back to his flat when an idea struck him.

"Go flying with me?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"Now?"

He nodded.

"Just for a bit. Flying clears my head, and…" he trailed off, looking down as if suddenly shy. He looked back up. "I want to fly with you."

She nodded and smiled down at him.

"Then let us find some clothes and be off. I'll meet you downstairs."

A few minutes later Harry was downstairs, Hedwig swung over his shoulder, wearing the simple robes he'd arrived in. A moment later Fleur stepped into view, not wearing her overalls as he'd expected, but a pair of muggle pants and the Puddlemere jersey he'd gifted to her many months ago. He smiled brightly at the sight as his heart jumped. Ever since the night of the party she'd done so many small things to show him that she cared, and this was just another.

He looked at the broom she carried and raised an eyebrow. As she approached, she held it out to him.

"This is Liliane," she said as he gently took it from her.

It was light, far lighter than your typical broom, and the bristles were packed tightly together, the collar not much larger than his fist. She curved differently than a standard broom, and her neck was longer, but it was the color that stood out.

"I've never seen wood this color before."

She nodded.

"It's not a single type of wood. It's a mixture," she explained. "After I did my first commission, my father told me I should make a broom for myself. That all apprentices do so. Almost as a rite of passage. I didn't want to make a regular broom, so I decided to be creative. It took a while, and far more wood than a normal broom, but when she was finished I knew she was perfect for me."

He handed Liliane back to Fleur.

"She's fast, isn't she?"

Fleur nodded as she stepped past him, holding the door open for him to leave the shop.

"She is. Very fast, though her maneuverability is limited by the lightness. Too much torque and I risk breaking her."

As they got into the clearing and mounted their brooms, Harry looked over at her with a questioning eye.

"Bit of a thing for speed?"

"Try to keep up, Potter," she said just as she kicked off.

He nearly gasped as she shot off with force he'd very rarely seen before. She made a wide, looping circle and shot in the other direction just as quickly. As she passed him, she shouted down.

"Come on, Potter, get off the ground!"

He kicked off and felt the familiar rush of air blow through his hair. He climbed, higher and higher, before stopping his momentum and falling backwards. For several moments he let gravity do the work, free falling towards the ground before gripping Hedwig tightly and gently easing her off to the right. The French countryside air was like freedom and he let his worries slip away as he zipped around.

He continued to watch Fleur as she performed her dance, flirting close to him before pulling away, and it was mesmerizing. She was speed and grace in one. Her movements were purposeful and calculated, as if choreographed for a show that only he had tickets to. As she approached again she laughed. Her hair danced, held in place by a single ribbon, and he knew then that he'd never want to be anywhere else.

He rose and leveled out, staring out at the moon as his mind drifted to distant thoughts. He'd never flown with someone else like this, an almost intimate gesture between two lovers. For some reason he couldn't place, it made him reminisce.

"You look different when you fly," he heard from beside him. At some point she'd climbed up to hover next to him. "You look free."

He kept staring out at the night sky but nodded.

"Everyone used to stare at me, like…" he started, "I don't know, like I was a freak or a hero, and I honestly didn't know which was worse. Merlin, I was eleven and my first sight of magical London was a line of grown witches and wizards wanting to shake my hand. All because of something my parents had done. But once the Quidditch season started, once we won, it was like..."

"Like their attention was finally deserved," Fleur finished for him, and though he didn't look at her face, he could feel the emphatic agreement in her nod. "I know what you mean, all too well. I've labored 'ard to find my own accomplishments that aren't predicated on genetic beauty or grace."

He looked at her and nearly pulled her into his embrace. She knew what it was like, probably better than anyone else, and somehow they'd found each other. Of all the people in all the places, he'd found the one person who knew what his upbringing was like.

"I was thinking," he said as he smiled at her, "I'd like to spend the off season here in France. If you'll put up with me, that is."

She smiled and placed her hand on his cheek. She rubbed her thumb against his face before patting him twice.

"Only if you learn French."

He laughed but nodded.

"Of course. I think I know of a fantastic teacher."

"I will not go easy on you," she warned.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, sorry. I meant Gabby."

He darted towards the ground laughing as she shouted a protest and put herself into motion to follow.

.

.

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AN: Just the epilogue left, so I figured I'd pop in and thank everyone for reading my fluffy little AU. I absolutely loved writing this and I hope you enjoyed reading it just as much.

Thank you to all my beta readers. This would have been a mess if not for you all.

A huge thank you to DJKopper for not only beta reading this, but also helping me work through forming all my scattered thoughts into something that was readable. Without you making me realize the potential of this idea then it would have languished as an untapped oneshot. None of this would have been possible without you.

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