A/N: Hiya! I sent a version of this to my buddie, Office Sloth, who writes The Focus of a Healer. He amended and added stuff that gave life to a short Oneshot. It's therefore a co-authored short piece.
Beta: We don't beta. We die like men.
Disclaimer: We don't own squat. Nothing belongs to us, everything is JK Rowling's.
Enjoy!
Nothing is Certain, Ever
It was your average British afternoon, overcast and dreary, unlike the warm temperate climate of her birthplace. It had been raining the past few days, washing the dust and dirt off the trees' leaves. Though she hated getting wet, the smell of freshly rained Earth always calmed her nerves. Despite having lived here since her graduation from Beauxbatons, she had yet to warm up to the weather, the people and the overall culture. But still, she wouldn't trade any of it for anything in the world. It was their home.
She checked the time on her watch, assuring herself that she'd leave on time and arrive on Platform 9 ¾ just about 5 minutes before Harry's arrival. Her mother always said to be fashionably late, but she'd gladly be there beforehand, just to see his face even a second earlier. Before anyone else could. He was hers and no one else's.
Taking another look at herself in the mirror, the reflection showed her immaculate perfect self. Platinum-Blonde hair, ocean-blue eyes, not a single blemish on her skin. She was beautiful, and she knew it.
But still, she worried he'd reconsider. Change his mind. See through her Veela heritage and think her a vile creature out to ensnare him and his family name.
But no, Harry wasn't like that. He knew her. She knew him. They were on the same page with one another about what this was. This small piece of happiness they'd carved out for themselves. A happiness they'd well deserved, after the years and years of wondering about their future, their families and their friends. They were free to live, learn and love and nobody could stop them.
For all Fate had thrown their way, and how they'd cursed it over the had drawn them together on that one Christmas Eve at the Burrow. A secret uttered, a confidence shared and a touch which by all rights was a betrayal to their friends.
Thankfully, there had been no bad blood between her and William. He'd been angry with her, hurt even, and rightfully so, but he'd stepped back. He'd known Harry well enough to believe him when he said that their relationship had been an accident. But even he could see how much Fleur meant to him. And after everything Harry had done for their family. He'd saved Ginny and their father, he'd made the twin's dream come true. He'd talked them down when they were angry over Percy, and he'd helped Ron become the man they were all proud of.
I get it. He'd said, his voice obviously stricken with emotion. Barely a whisper it had been.
Harry was as honest as they'd come, so his affections for Fleur had been genuine, and while he loved her, he knew that Harry could offer her something he couldn't. He'd give her his everything. William believed that; he'd told her so himself.
It was the most painful for Fleur. She felt horrible, hurting a good man like this. His voice had never taken on such a weak tone. A man as confident and joyful as him, with a voice that always commanded authority and attention when required, then reduced to barely a hoarse shadow of itself.
I love you and I know that you love me. But you love him more, and he loves you back. It's clear to anyone who sees the way he looks at you. I've never seen someone light up like that… He'd confessed.
So, I will let you go. The words had come out with a sense of finality.
He'd stood for a few moments, his heart on his shoulder. She hadn't been sure why, but she'd raised her arms to give him one last loving embrace. Before she had been able to even take one further step, he had raised his hand, stopping her.
No. He'd said, shaking his head at her. He'd let her go with all the good will he could muster but any more than that was impossible.
He'd given her a curt smile with a slight tilt, his face clearly no longer possessing the energy to fake one any longer. Dropping his arm, he'd bowed his head slightly and left her to walk back to his family home.
That had been a while ago now. The Weasleys had been livid, in defense of their eldest, but William's words had calmed them. He was a man of his word. A man who'd deserved more than she could have ever offered him. It truly said something of Arthur and Molly, to raise such a strong family.
The shrill beep of the alarm slashed through the silence of the flat.
Fleur tensed at the noise, breaking her walk down memory lane. Glancing at the watch on her wrist, she raised a brow in surprise. She'd stood there lost in thought for an entire half hour.
"Merde," she uttered.
Pulling on her black leather jacket, she checked herself again in the mirror. Her hair was still loose around her shoulders. Leaving it free reign to flutter in the wind would attract unwanted attention to herself. She quickly grabbed her hairband from the dresser, and pulled on her boots before rushing out the door, nearly tripping in the process. Once outside of the building she pushed her hair back, putting on the hairband before jogging down the road to look for an empty corner in a side street to apparate from. Having found one, she placed the image of a train station in her head.
Red bricks, families on the move, the sign indicating platforms 9 and 10, the smell of exhaust, and steam. Lots of steam.
She disappeared with only the slightest pop.
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The first thing she noticed upon arrival was the noise. The sheer noise of bustling families, travelers, of trolleys and bags being dragged on the platform's stone floor. Children laughed, excited for the oncoming holiday, parents argued worriedly about connecting trains and the occasional PA speaker urged people to not leave their baggage unattended.
Fleur had been here only once before, having joined William on a rare chance to pick up his siblings alongside his parents. She wondered if he'd be here today, to spite her maybe. She quickly banished the thought.
He's never been the petty type. She admonished herself.
Gathering her thoughts and clearing her mind to focus on the task at hand, she looked around for the platform 9 and 10. She counted the numbers as she walked through the crowd. Before arriving at what was the entrance.
You wouldn't notice if not trained in the art or sensitive to magical signatures. Fleur's Veela heritage tied her closer to the magic around her, a byproduct of constantly exuding an allure. Her magic touching her surroundings. It was one of the few benefits she felt were useful since she'd come into her heritage.
Finally arriving between the platform 9 and 10, she quickly made her way to the intended pillar. Only she'd forgotten which side she was supposed to enter from. Harry had told her about his first experience with finding his way onto platform 9 ¾, having had to rely on Ron's family to help him out.
The irony would be uncanny if they'd show up to help me out as well.
And as if summoned, a redhead woman appeared next to Fleur.
"I see that you share Harry's ability to get lost without trying." The woman chuckled.
Fleur turned to the voice, recognizing the Weasley matriarch, the woman she'd once tried to please as William's wife-to-be.
Molly gave her a kind smile, offering a hand for her to hold on to.
"It's not the easiest thing to do, you see. Even I tend to close my eyes and hope that I don't run face first into a solid brick wall, something Ron and Harry have unfortunately experienced.
Fleur, getting over her sense of apprehension, returned a smile of her own and accepted Molly's offered hand. "Merci, Molly."
With a nod, Molly took confident steps toward the entrance. As they approached the brick pillar with the numbered sign on each side, Molly picked up her pace, practically rushing forward now.
Fleur squeezed her eyes shut, her instincts screaming for her to stop. But there was no crash. Only the feeling of passing through mist as the air took on a chillier feel.
Slowly opening her eyes, she saw parents upon parents waiting anxiously for their children to arrive on the platform.
She released a breath, feeling her shoulders relax as she took in her surroundings
"I know you've been here before with Bill, but it's still a sight to behold this place, isn't it?" marveled the older woman.
"Oui, I will miss coming here. This will be the last time for me as well, you see." Her eyes took on a far-away look, unmistakably deep-diving in nostalgia.
Molly then turned to Fleur, slightly fidgeting with her fingers before deciding to voice her thoughts.
"Don't say that," said the woman gently. "Perhaps, someday down the line you'd be visiting this platform again."
Fleur smiled shyly, "I think 'Arry and I would like that."
Do you mind if we waited together for the kids to arrive?"
"No, please, I don't mind company." Fleur offered, her hand indicating the spot next to her.
Molly nodded in thanks before moving closer to Fleur, folding her hands in front of her.
"They're not kids anymore. If not in age, then in experience." Fleur began.
Molly glanced at her in surprise, slowly nodding in agreement.
"True, they aren't anymore. But," she emphasized, "they're still my children, and Harry is as much my child as any of them. A parent never ceases to see them as anything but. We worry even when they have little ones of their own."
"And even then, when they're gone…" Molly added quietly, her voice hitching slightly.
Fleur turned to look at her, leaning backwards against the brick wall behind them. She pulled her leather jacket closer around her as she remembered the events of the Battle of Hogwarts.
Molly noticed the change in demeanour and quickly apologized to Fleur.
"Oh, I'm sorry, dear. I didn't mean to dig up the past."
Fleur shook her head, waving the woman's apology off. "No, no. I'm fine. It's I who's supposed to apologize. I shouldn't have phrased it the way I did."
Molly's lips pursed. "No worries, we've all lost and left something behind on that day. Nobody was left untouched, and we all grieve in our own way."
"Is that why you are so nice to me?" Fleur eyed her.
Molly looked at her in confusion. "Nice to you? What do you mean?"
Fleur got off the wall, straightening herself, before further elaborating. "I mean the split between William and myself. I assumed it put me on your bad side indefinitely."
Understanding now what Fleur meant, Molly's face remained warm.
"Oh dearie. These things happen. I understood that times were different, and emotions ran high. Most of my friends got together during dark times, having children earlier than their planning should have permitted. So, I noticed that Bill and you were similar. Your splitting up was…just how life can be sometimes. Nothing is set in stone."
"But you must hate me. For hurting him…" Fleur spoke hurriedly.
"Hate you?"
"Yes."
"Oh please," Molly waved her off, "how would that be fair? He wasn't the only one hurt. You were too."
Fleur looked at her in surprise.
"Fleur, sweety, Bill is many things, but not the most consistent. Both my oldest are the same. Him and Charlie. They fall in love hard and fast but it's truly their work they live for. Even as a teenager Bill put his ambitions before romance. You must have noticed it in your time with him, haven't you?"
Molly waited until a look of understanding crossed Fleur's visage. The Veela then voiced a question that burned in her gut.
"Why then," she began with fire. "Why did you treat me the way you did when I was his fiancé?"
Molly, having expected the topic to arise at some point, looked back down at the railway tracks.
"I pushed you to test you. I wanted to see how tough you are, how well you could deal with unreasonable disagreements, if you could handle the downs of family life." The matriarch reasoned confidently, while slowly drawing her soft eyes to Fleur's steely.
"I wanted to make sure you knew what you were getting into. That this", Molly pointed at herself, "might be something you'd rather not deal with in the long run."
Fleur's strict gaze weakened, she shook her head in disapproval, pushing down her anger.
"You drove me insane; did you know that?" she spoke hotly still. "It hurt. I was afraid you'd never accept me. Week for week, I'd try and please you, make peace with Ginny and be a friend to all of your children. I even learned to cook English meals to try and impress you, to show you I can be a part of the family. I learned the bloody language to the point of being accent-free, so I wouldn't feel like an outsider. The part that hurt the most, was that William just let it happen."
At that point, Fleur's neck had begun to turn red, her jaw drawing a tense line. A few of the nearby couples on the platform had turned their heads toward the commotion, but soon ignored them. Molly had picked up on the unvented emotions long before today and gave her the widest smile she could muster and simply shrugged at her.
"And here you are," she said matter-of-factly.
Fleur felt like the wind had been ripped from her sails. "What?"
"And here you are. In a different life. In a different relationship", Molly elaborated knowingly.
Fleur remained confused, still unable to grasp the older woman's point. "That doesn't excuse the way you treated me."
"No, it doesn't," Molly admitted with a sag. "And for what it's worth, I am sorry. However, can you honestly deny it? It did help you reconsider your choice, didn't it? Help you think critically about your decisions."
"No. Yes..., maybe. I don't know." She covered her face with her hands, shaking her head in slight frustration.
I love Harry. Of that she was certain above all else. It was a confidence forged in steel.
Fleur lowered her hands, allowing the fresh air to touch her skin again. It felt as cool and clear as the answer she finally gave.
"Yes."
"Well then, what would be the point of my hating you?" Molly posited again.
Before Fleur could give another response, the awaited signal of the train's arrival whistled through the 19th century construct.The conversation had to be concluded on another occasion.
"You're happier with Harry?" The older woman asked one last time. It sounded akin to a plea for something Fleur couldn't quite decipher.
Unsure how to respond, the Veela simply nodded, unable to contain the smile that spread to her eyes as she thought of her love.
"Then let me tell you this, although I'm sure you're perfectly aware." Molly's voice took on a serious, maternal tone. "Harry's had very little good experience with family, loyalty and love. There is also only so much I can give him as a foster mother. So be warned. If you hurt him, and I don't mean squabbles or fights, I mean really hurt him. There'll be no place you could hide."
Fleur knew that she was serious, but also knew the warning wasn't needed in any way. Harry was everything to her and as such she'd gotten to know him on a level even the Weasley woman couldn't possibly compare to. She held back a smile, "don't worry, Molly. Hermione has already threatened me with death by defeathering."
"Good, that's good," Molly muttered to herself, a small smile growing on her face. "Make him happy and let yourself be happy. Harry is a Weasley in every way that matters and that makes you family, even if things hadn't turned out the way they did. You're one of us. "
Fleur's heart lurched at the words. She had not expected them. Not in this lifetime. "Merci, Molly."
A second, deafening loud whistle of the train reverberated off the brick walls, announcing the definitive arrival and final stop of a steam cloud.
The picturesque train slowed as it entered the station, blowing steam and smoke everywhere, blocking it from their view.
The brakes squealed as the train came to a halt, after which a loud voice bellowed down the platform.
"This is the final stop. Please disembark the train as there are no further connections. The Hogwarts Express and its staff wish the students safe travels, enjoyable holidays and will be happy to welcome them back next school term."
After the end of the announcement, the door locks clicked open and excited children began running and calling for their parents, despite the smoke still hiding them from each other.
Fleur waited for the air to clear before seeking out the emerald pair of eyes she'd come to love.
Then she found him, just as she had imagined. Green met blue as a grin lit up his face. Her own smug expression responding.
He ran toward her, his bags practically flying behind him. Hermione and Ron called out to him wondering what the hell.
She ran as well, her hairband flung from her hair, freeing it to flutter wildly around her.
As soon as she was close enough Fleur leapt in excitement. She, however, completely underestimated her momentum and flew into him, with enough force to plant him on the bags behind him.
Embarrassed by her behavior, she quickly tried to get off, but he held on to her thighs straddling his upper body.
He giggled.
"Well, somebody is excited to see me." He waggled his eyebrows.
Fleur instead of responding, fixed him with a predatory stare.
He laughed at her demeanor and patted her on her leg, finally urging her to let him get up, "before someone trips over us."
She nodded, letting him up and seeing the disapproval battling with a smile on Hermione's face, and the laughter from Ron over his shoulder
Dusting himself off, he felt himself for any bruising or tenderness, but realized that the bags had taken the brunt of the impact. He'd inspect their contents later, though there was nothing really in there to worry about.
Meeting Fleur's eyes again, he gave her a loving smile, which she returned with one of her own.
"I'm back,"he said, slightly out of breath.
"So you are."
A pause.
"Am I getting anything?"
"Why? Should I give you anything?"
Another pause.
"Can I kiss you?"
"Can you kiss me, leetle boy?"
He closed his eyes at the obvious dig.
"Last I checked, this leetle boy can do a lot of things."
Fleur's face reddened at the memories.
"I don't quite remember. Care to show me again?"
"Here? Oh you have gotten bold. Besides, I don't know, I'm not sure how?" Harry responded in faux shyness.
Fleur, growing impatient, grabbed him by the collar, pulling him toward her face.
The kiss was hungry and passionate. Not lewd, but enough that nearby parents turned their youngest away.
Finally breaking apart, she rested her cheek against his.
"I hate this foreplay business." Fleur whined into his ears. "Takes way too long."
"Yeah, I agree. Did get me some action, though." He grinned. "Besides, we've got all night."
Fleur took a step back to bring out her wand. She shrunk his bags and placed them in her breast pocket before grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the exit.
"Hey, that's my stuff."
"No more waiting," Fleur said impatiently, biting her lower lip. "You will get it back later."
Harry chuckled fondly, waving his hand at Ron and Hermione and giving Molly a quick hug while Fleur pulled him along.
Her breath hitched when she pulled him to her and he nibbled her ear, as they disappeared with a loud pop.
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