A/N: For a story whose main character I knew almost immediately, this one took much longer than I'd hoped to reach some sort of conclusion. And even then, expect this story thread to get revisited at some future date, as I'm kinda leaving you on a cliff. Usual disclaimers apply, and in addition, I've borrowed a small plot idea (the chauffeur) from Jeconais' This Means War. Not exactly the same, but close enough that if you've read that story, you'd notice the similarity.
joie de vivre - (phr.) "joy of living" - a feeling of happiness and excitement about life, and the carefree enjoyment, ebullience and zest of living it [french]
Gabrielle Delacour knew how to live the good life. She considered herself a connoisseur of the finer things, and being French she of course knew what qualified things as "fine." She knew the best place to get the best champagne, where to find the sweetest chocolate, and what beaches were best for attracting attention. Of course, she also knew some of the places to be and be seen outside of her native France, but when one lived in the cultural center of the world, one rarely needed to leave. However, there were only so many opportunities a model could have in France, so she did have to venture away every now and again.
One of those occasional ventures led her to London. There wasn't much in the city that she really enjoyed, but it gave her a chance to see a good friend of hers, and she never missed a chance to stop in on Harry. And his cooking was heavenly, much better than any other place in London that she had tried. Of course, it would be rude to show up unannounced, so she made sure to call him before her plane left the airport. While she could have just Apparated over to England, the brief plane ride gave her a chance to relax and catch a quick nap.
As she walked into the main terminal, she noticed a dapper-looking gentleman holding a sign reading "G. Delacour." She didn't recognize the man, but assumed that he was there to chauffeur her to Harry's house. The man led her outside to a dark green Jaguar and opened the door for her. Once she was comfortable, they began driving towards central London.
"I was unaware that Harry had a professional chauffeur, Mr…" began Gabrielle.
"Oh, Harry doesn't actually employ a driver, Miss Delacour," said the driver. "We're just old friends from Hogwarts, and he wanted to be sure you got to see the sights rather than boring old magical travel. Too quick, that is. My name's Dean, Dean Thomas."
Her curiosity sated, Gabrielle sat back and watched the world go by as Dean pointed out a few particular sights of interest along their route. In what felt like no time at all, the Jag pulled up outside the recently refurbished Grimmauld Place. The house seemed much brighter than the last time Gabrielle had visited. Dean performed the expected courtesies, and Gabrielle slipped him a pair of 50 pound notes despite his protests that he was simply doing Harry a favor. As the Jaguar eased away from the area, Gabrielle noticed that it wasn't just number 12 that looked brighter than before; the whole neighborhood appeared to have gotten a refresher.
The door was answered only a moment after she rang the bell, and not by the house elf she had been expecting to see, either. Harry himself pulled back the door, and warmly welcomed Gabrielle into an embrace in the foyer. As he took her light jacket to the coat closet, she looked around and noticed that the house seemed much more open than she last recalled. In fact, it almost seemed as though the front hall went right into the adjoining…
"I see you've noticed my 'neighborhood revitalization project' got a bit bigger and more personal than I might have said in my letters," mused a returning Harry. "I promise you answers, but only after we enjoy the wonderful roast I've prepared. I guarantee you'll love it."
As he led her to the dining area, she could also smell the wonderful smell of freshly baked bread, in addition to something fruity that she couldn't quite identify. Harry had found an excellent French wine to pair with their meal, one that complemented the flavors nicely. It wasn't until he brought out a large bowl and some brandy for dessert that she was able to identify the Cherries Jubilee she had smelled earlier. Where Harry had learned how to cook like a Cordon Bleu chef she didn't know, but she was thankful every time she came that he had learned, saving her from other English cuisine that just didn't measure up.
As the last of the cherries were consumed, and the dishes cleared away by house elves, Harry took Gabrielle on a walk through the back gardens. She hadn't been to this part of the house in any prior visit, so she had no comparison, but this area too seemed much bigger than the property of just one house. Harry had promised her answers before dinner, and she was certainly going to get them now, whether he wanted to give them or not!
"It seems I've stalled for as long as I can," said a smiling Harry. "Well, Gabi, I was planning to invite you to come around soon anyway, so this just saved me the need of finding a reason to do so. You see, I might have bought out the entire neighborhood to expand my holdings and give myself and the future Mrs. Potter a wonderful place to live, as well as have the opportunity to invite those close to me to move in nearby if they so desired. Many of them did take me up on the offer, though I'm still missing a few important folks. Namely, one gorgeous French model who always seems to visit and make excuses to stay, but then scurries back home to her own piece of paradise."
Gabrielle blushed, knowing exactly who Harry was referring to. "Mon ami, you know that I still do most of my work on the continent. I cannot just stay here forever; it simply would not provide enough work, and I could not impose on you that way."
Harry smirked at her, which only caused the blushing to intensify. "And yet you take lower paying jobs just to have a reason to come see me a couple of times a year, don't you? That's why I had to start building my own piece of paradise, Gabi. Anything less than that wouldn't be enough to drag you across the Channel permanently. Look around you. I've put more hours and days into making this garden perfect than I'd like to remember, but each of them was worth it. In fact, I'll probably still be putting in some more before it's really done. Not today, but someday soon, I'm going to be making you an offer that you can't refuse, and you're going to come here permanently. And when I do, this place will be perfect, and you'll love every minute of being here. But only when it's ready, not a second before. Does that satisfy your curiosity for now?"
Gabrielle took a moment to observe the surrounding garden, and while she couldn't see any imperfections with it, if Harry insisted they were there, she believed him. While his words held much meaning, she knew she wouldn't be getting any more out of him if he wasn't ready to tell her yet. "As you wish, Harry. I am quite curious about this 'offer I cannot refuse', but I am satisfied for the time being. I have already made accommodations for tonight, but I expect I'll be back here soon enough regardless."