He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose for the second time. Briefly, as he drowned out the irritable woman in front of him, he wondered if just telling her to piss off would be stepping over the line. No, Fleur had been terribly upset the last time he'd done that and he didn't wish to repeat the experience. The memory of her anger nearly made him shudder.

He opened his eyes and realized that the woman was waiting for him to reply to whatever she'd just said.

"As I've said, madam," he repeated, his French having become far better over the last five years, "we do not carry broomsticks in this shop."

She scoffed.

"I don't understand. I was told this was the best broom shop in all of France, yet you do not carry broomsticks. How is that possible?"

He shrugged.

"Delacour and Family specializes in a far more customized service," he said evenly. He'd explained this three times but she refused to understand. The woman pointed behind him.

"I see the Firebolt logo on the broom behind you," she exclaimed, "so why am I not able to purchase a Firebolt?"

He sighed, tossing a quick glance at Hedwig behind him, leaned against the wall with care.

"That is my own personal broom, madam," he explained, "it was custom made many years ago by…well it doesn't matter who. However, it has been in the care of the owner of this establishment for long enough that it is now a Delacour and Family broom in all but name."

The woman raised an eyebrow and he sighed. She was going to insult him, he knew it. He didn't try to be standoffish, he really didn't. People just didn't seem to understand why an Englishman was working in a French shop.

"And who are you, hmm? Where is the owner? I would very much like to speak with them."

He pinched the bridge of his nose again and heard the chime of the door. Footsteps echoed along the floor as the new arrival made for the counter. More than one customer was never fun, and he didn't want to disturb his wife.

"Oi," the new arrival said. He lowered his hand and opened his eyes, smiling as he saw Gabby standing next to the woman, looking up at her. She jerked her head towards the door. "Piss off."

The woman gasped.

"How very rude!" she said before storming out.

"Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out!" Gabby called after her with a laugh and wave.

Harry dropped into the seat behind him with a sigh and a shake of his head. He looked up at Gabby, who was beaming at him.

"I'm telling Fleur that was all you, just so you know."

Gabby shrugged.

"She'll forgive me. She always does." She dropped into the seat on her side of the counter. "Where is she, by the way?"

Harry motioned with his thumb to the back of the shop, another sigh escaping his lips.

"In the back, as usual. Though I'll be removing her from the premises shortly, even if I have to bribe her."

Gabby raised an eyebrow.

"With what?"

He reached under the counter and pulled out a small brown bag. It gave off a faint glow, the clearest sign of a preservation charm being placed on it.

"Chocolate croissants from her favorite bakery. It's all she's wanted for breakfast recently."

Gabby laughed.

"You went all the way to Paris for some pastries?" He nodded and Gabby shook her head. "She really does have you whipped, doesn't she?"

Harry shrugged.

"Eh, it's not that far and I do occasionally like to go out into the world for more than just visits with your family. How's your mum by the way?"

Gabby huffed in irritation.

"Not listening to the healers. She collapsed from exhaustion yet she's acting as if she's perfectly fine."

Harry smiled. In all the time he'd known Apolline she'd been a constant, influential presence at the French Ministry. Hell, she'd helped him get his citizenship. Everyone had their limits however, and the sudden death of the Minister, coupled with the ensuing shitstorm to find his replacement, had left her exhausted. Her collapse at dinner one evening was the only thing that had slowed her pace.

"I think she'll have enough of a reason to ease up soon," he said before raising an eyebrow. "And you?"

"What about me?" Gabby asked suspiciously.

"Oh, you know, just that a little birdie told me you've started dating a mutual friend." His tone was amused as she flushed slightly, though he had to give her credit for how quickly she recovered.

"My sister should learn to keep her mouth shut," Gabby pouted. He laughed.

"Aw, don't be like that. We both approve of you dating Luc, he's a good guy. I know he'll treat my favorite little sister like a gentleman."

"I'm your only little sister, and don't forget that," she shot back with a smile. "Now, you said she's in the back?"

Harry held up his hands.

"It's probably best if you don't go back there. She's stressed, and I've been trying to get her to leave all day," he said tiredly. It had been exhausting, trying to extract Fleur from her work, but he knew he was wearing her down. "I know your mum sent you but maybe let's wait on the visit until tomorrow?"

Gabby sighed but nodded and stood up.

"Fine. Tell her I'll see her tomorrow then. If you need a place to lay low after she argues with you then you know where I live!" She turned to leave before stopping and looking back. "Oh, I almost forgot. Thanks for putting me in touch with your old agent. You weren't kidding when you said she was a contract genius."

Harry gave a light chuckle.

"Has she invited you to dinner yet?"

Gabby nodded. "Yep. Having dinner with her and Bill next week. On that note, I'm off. Good luck!"

She left, and as soon as the door closed he pulled out his wand and locked it. No more interruptions, no more rude customers, no more distractions. He had a mission to accomplish. He moved to the back of the shop and he heard the familiar scrap of a chisel being run lightly across wood. He stopped in the entry and watched as she ran it down the length of the neck, which was now starting to form into something more closely resembling a broom.

Fleur lifted the chisel away from the wood and blew away the dust before looking at it. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her belly. She tensed for a moment before relaxing and leaning back into him. He put his mouth next to her ear.

"How are my two girls doing?" he whispered. She shuddered slightly and he smiled as she entwined her fingers with his.

"Grumpy. She kicked all night and I couldn't get comfortable."

"Is that why you were up so early?" he asked. She nodded.

"I didn't want to wake you, so I slipped out early. The healers say I'm limited to tea in the mornings, so I made some and watched the sun rise. That seemed to calm her down."

He kissed her neck and took the chisel from her right hand, placing it on the workbench.

"It's time to stop working, my love."

She shook her head and attempted to push away from him but he held her firmly in his grasp. Years of Quidditch had given him a strong grip, far stronger than her in the condition she was in.

"I have to finish the neck today. They've been waiting for a while for this one and I don't want to delay it further."

"I spoke with the client yesterday," he said. "He's fine with waiting longer."

She swatted his forearm lightly, though there was no anger in the gesture.

"You shouldn't have done that. I'm perfectly capable of finishing this."

He rubbed her belly and she leaned further back into him.

"I know you are, but your father will be here tomorrow to finish any orders and look after the place while you're out. The healers say you need to rest, so you're going to rest."

She turned around and looked at him with a defiant stare.

"Up the stairs and into my room, sequestered away until the baby decides to come?" she asked. "I look like a whale," she added with a pout.

He shook his head.

"You look as beautiful as you always do," he said firmly. "But no, my love, sitting in our home. One with a big backyard and plenty of support around."

Her eyes widened.

"It's done?"

He nodded.

"It's done. The old couple down the street from your parents finalized their move last week. I made them an offer in person before they could even speak with someone to help them sell it. Our new home is ready."

She kissed him passionately, and he returned the act with just as much love. They'd lived in the shop for years, never needing anything more, but when Fleur got pregnant they both knew it was time to find a more permanent place to raise a family. He knew she loved the magical village she'd grown up in, so he'd worked tirelessly to find someone willing to sell.

When an older couple had indicated they would be retiring to the coast he jumped at the opportunity to purchase their property. He'd been waiting to tell her the deal was done.

"Now," he said, "how about we go to our new home and enjoy some pastries?"

Fleur's eyes lit up.

"Chocolate?"

He nodded.

She turned around and began to clear the table. He didn't stop her and he wouldn't attempt to as he knew this was a struggle for her. This had been her life for so long, day in and day out, and to leave it even briefly must be difficult.

"Do you miss it?" she asked softly as she sent the last of the tools to the far wall.

"Miss what?"

She gestured to the wall to the left. Looking over, he smiled. It was a newspaper clipping, hung on the wall by Fleur the day after it was released.

England Wins The World Cup
Potter Announces Immediate Retirement!

"No, not really. I didn't have anything left to prove, and there was nothing more for me there," he said as he stared at the clipping. "I've got what I want here, with you two."

"She's kicking again."

He moved behind her and placed his hand back on her stomach, feeling the soft kick of the baby. He smiled.

"She's going to be a handful, just like her mama," he said, letting his mind wander to the image he had in his mind of a small girl, long silver-blond locks with green eyes, zipping around the yard on a training broom.

"Or a troublemaker, like her papa, a broom always within reach to go flying," Fleur teased before sighing. "Do you think she will want this life? Or will she want something more?"

He turned her around and placed a hand gently on her cheek, resting his forehead on hers.

"I think that whatever she wants, regardless of if it's following in either one of our footsteps or finding her own path, we'll be there to ensure she succeeds."

"You are going to be a fantastic father," she whispered, covering his hand with hers.

"And you will be the best mother in the world." He rubbed his thumb across her cheek. "I love you, have I ever told you that?"

"Occasionally," she said with a smirk. "I love you too."

He placed a tender kiss on her lips as they stood there in the shop. He'd come here years ago for professional reasons, but he'd found love and happiness in the process. Had anyone asked him long ago what he thought he'd be doing with his life this would not have been the answer.

He couldn't think of anywhere else he'd rather be.