Hey, everyone! Mystery Critic here, back at you with another brand new chapter! First off, I am completely blown away by all of the love this story is getting. Every time I post a new chapter, so many more people are following and favoriting it, and it's so awesome to see that. I know I keep changing things in the summary, but I'm pretty sure I've settled on who's going to be eventually bashed. As for the disclaimer, I don't own Harry Potter, nor any of the rights affiliated with it. Anywho, now that the disclaimer is out of the way, I present to you chapter twelve of Ma Fleur! Grab your Chocolate Frogs, your pumpkin juice, and enjoy!

Chapter 12

Italics - French

As Bagman sends a flash of light out of his wand, the quaffle and bludgers launch into the air, spurning the players into action. The players dart forward on their brooms, receiving cheers from the audience as the game begins.

"Troy takes the quaffle first, passing it to Moran, who passes it back to Troy!" Bagman shouts out, holding his wand to his throat again. "Volkov slams a bludger at Troy, and he's saved by Connolly! Troy passes it to Mullet, to Moran, back to Mullet, score! First point goes to Ireland!"

Cheers erupt from the stadium again as the fans egg the players on. The Delacour family cheers, too, none louder than Apolline. 'Geez, Fleur wasn't kidding.' Harry chuckles to himself, seeing his adopted mother screaming in French.

"Come on Conolly, come on Quigley!" Apolline screams, a happy glare of determination on her face. "Knock those freaking Bulgarians off their fucking brooms!"

The entire Delacour family breaks into laughter at the matriarch's antics, getting a glare from the veela. "What?!"

"Nothing, dear." Jacques says, kissing her cheek quickly. "It's just good to see you in such... Spirits."

"Why shouldn't I be?" She snaps, turning back to the game. "This is Ireland's year. We'e going to obliterate them! Nice save, Ryan!"

Chuckling to himself, Harry turns his attention back to the game, barely able to follow the game at such high speeds. 'Huh. It's a lot harder to make sense of what's happening from the sidelines.' Shrugging to himself, Harry tries to follow as best he can.

"And Bulgaria scores!" Bagman shouts, pumping his fistgently in celebration. "That brings the score to 40 to 10, Ireland leading!

"Wait, already?!" Turning to the family, Harry nudges Fleur. "How did I miss that much already, Fleur?"

"I 'ope you pay more attention to our relationship zan ze game, 'Arry." Winking at him, Fleur plants a chaste kiss on his cheek. "It's a lot faster zan what you are used to, and it's not surprising you can't follow everyzing."

"True, but how did I not hear Bagman?"

"'Is Sonorus only projects out, not inside zis box." She explains, smiling at him warmly. "We would not want 'im blowing out our ears, now would we?"

"I suppose."

"Come now, love." She says, railing her knuckles down the side of his cheek gently. "If you do not want to pay attention, we can always talk for ze duration of ze game. Would you prefer zat?"

"Actually, I think I would." Sighing with a smile, Harry turns in his chair to face Fleur. "It's a little too fast-paced for me. I prefer being able to fully pay attention to what's happening in the game."

"I understand, love." Sliding into Harry's lap, Fleur nuzzles her nose against Harry's. "I enjoy ze game, but not at zis speed."

"So, what do you want to talk about, Fleur?" Nuzzling back, Harry smiles and laces his fingers with his girlfriend's. Smiling back at him, Fleur starts talking about past times the family has gone to the world cup. She tells him about one time where she actually cast a sonorus right there in the stands and screamed for Ryan to keep his eye on the chasers instead of the forest nymph mascots on the field. Harry started cracking up, only for Fleur to make him nearly to fall out of his chair when her father couldn't hear out of his left ear for a week. Noticing that the two teens were about to fall out of their chairs, Jacque's hand shoots out and grabs the chair, steadying it while Harry and Fleur regain their balance on it.

"Be'ave, you two." He reprimands, a small smirk on his face. "We don't want any Quidditch Cup babies."

"PAPA!" Fleur screams in embarrassment, a bright blush spreading across her face, harry sporting an equal one. "Why would you say zat?!"

"Oh, my! Your faces are all red!" Jacques gasps theatrically. "Apolline, look! They're supporting Bulgaria!"

"WHAT?!" Apolline screams, turning to the two blushing teens before turning her glare back at her husband. "Don't scare me like zat, Jacques! You're just being an ass'ole again! Mullet, how could you get 'it by zat?! It wasn't anywhere near you! Connolly, get zat singe* Vulchanov for zat cheap 'it!"

Nearly falling out of his chair in laughter, Jacques turns to the two crimson-faced teenagers and winks at them, getting a glare and a tongue flicked out at him from Harry and Fleur. Chuckling to himself again, he turns back to the game and Harry catches what Bagman is screaming about.

"Here it comes, folks!" Harry watches as Krum dives down, Lycnh following close after him. Krum stretches his arm out, and pulls up sharply at the last second, causing Lynch to slam into the ground hard, getting a loud wincing sound of ooh's and ouch's from the crowd. "There it is, everyone! The Wronski Feint, beautifully executed, if I might say so!"

As the game continues on, Harry smirks as he makes a mental note of that move for later. After a few moments from the medics, Lynch gets back on his broom and launches back into the sky from the field. Turning to the movement out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jacques holding Apolline back from leaping out of the box to get to the players. "ZAT WAS A CHEAP MOVE!" She screams, growling and yelling. "LET ME AT ZAT PUTAIN** KRUM!"

"Maman." Sliding Fleur out of his lap, Harry moves up quickly to help Jacques, only to come into contact with one of her swinging arms and falling back onto his rear end. "Ow. Note to self, don't get in between the game and sports moms. Bad idea."

"Oh, goodness!" Ripping herself from Jacque's grip, Apolline kneels down next to her son. "'Arry, are you okay?! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to 'it you!"

"It's okay, maman." Harry says, standing up to hug her. "I was just trying to get you to calm down. Remember, it's just a game."

"You're right, my love." Sighing deeply, she takes a deep breath before wrapping her arms around him. "Zank you for zat. I'm sorry again for 'itting you."

"Well, I learned a very important lesson." He says, smiling cheekily. "Never get between a woman and sports. It hurts."

Chuckling warmly, Apolline wraps Harry in another hug, holding him close to her as she rocks him back and forth, her eyes widening he feels the warmth from the embrace. The sheer love is nothing like he's felt before, filling him to the core with a happy, fluttering light of peace and happiness. 'Is this... What a mother's love feels like?' As tears pool in his eyes, he presses himself closer to her, burying his ace in her shoulder. "This is the best feeling I've ever experienced. Thank you, maman..."

"Oh, cherie..." Letting her own tears flow down her cheeks, Apolline lays her head on top of Harry's and pours all of the love she can into the hug. "You are most welcome."

Satisfied, Harry stretches up and kisses her cheek before sitting down next to Fleur again. As he pulls her back into his lap, Apolline cheers at the top of her lungs, crying tears of joy.

"That's the game, folks!" Bagman cheers. "Who would have guessed this outcome! Krum catches the snitch, but Ireland wins at an incredibly close 170-160! Ireland wins the 422nd Quidditch World Cup!"

Continuing to cheer, Jacques scoops Apolline up and spins her around ecstatically, both of them yelling and cheering as Gabrielle claps loudly with a wide smile on her face. Turning to Fleur, Harry smiles and kisses her cheek. "Guess we won, huh?"

"Looks like we did, my love." Returning the kiss on the corner of his lips, Fleur winks and turns back to the field to clap happily.

"Hey, I just remembered the Weasley's came to the cup today!" He says over the roar in Fleur's ear. "Why don't we go see them?"

"Are ze Weasley's nice people?"

"Very!" He says, smiling broadly. "They would take me in at the end of every summer the last three years."

"Okay, let's go find zem." Fleur says with a smile, standing up.

"Oh, no need. They're a couple of floors above us. We just need to wait by the door until they come down."

"Alright, love."

After waiting a few minutes, crowds pouring out down the staircase, Harry looks up again, catching the flash of red Weasley hair. As they turn down the spiraling staircase, Harry taps Ron on the shoulder and spreads his arms out as Ron turns around, his eyes widening to the size of dinner plates.

"Hey, Ron!" Harry smiles, chuckling as Ron rushes forward and wraps his arms around him in a brotherly hug. "Miss me, mate?"

"Are you barmy, mate?!" Ron yells, hugging Harry again. "Why wouldn't I miss my best mate? What are you doing here?"

"I came to watch the cup with the family that adopted me and got me out of Durskaban." He says, clapping the ginger teenager on the back as he walks forward. "You heard, didn't you?"

"Of course, mate." Blushing at forgetting, Ron rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "No, I forgot. Sorry."

Laughing at his best friend's antics, he wraps his arm around Ron's neck and walks forward to the rest of the Weasley family. "Hey, everyone!" Smiling as Mrs. Weasley rushes forward and wraps Harry in her arms.

"Harry!" She squeals, squeezing the life out him in one of her bone-crushing hugs. "Oh, it's so good to see you, dear! Oh, and look at that! You look so filled out! I'm so happy the Delacour's are feeding you properly after getting you away from those awful muggles."

"Yeah, so am I." Looking back at his new family, he leans forward and whispers in Mrs. Weasley's ear. "The house elf's cooking is still nowhere as near as good as yours, Mrs. Weasley."

Tutting at him with a smirk and a wink, she kisses him on the forehead and hugs him again. "Thank you for that compliment, dear. Now, how would you and the Delacour's like to come back to our tent for a little bit? We'd love to have you, and you know I won't take no for an answer. I haven't seen you since last year, after all."

"Of course, Mademoiselle Weasley." Jacques says, walking forward and extending his hand. "We'd be 'appy to join you, and I'm certain 'Arry would enjoy seeing his friends."

"Hell yeah!"

"Language, Harry!" Turning to the source of the voice, Harry smiles broadly at seeing the bushy-haired bookworm.

"Hermione!" Rushing forward, Harry scoops her up and hugs her tightly, causing her to squeal in happiness and horror. "I've missed you so much!"

"Harry James Potter, put me down!" Giggling after being set down, they turn to everyone else sheepishly.

"He didn't say hello to me like that." Ron grumbles playfully.

"Oh, well come here!" Harry says with a laugh, running after Ron. "Let me give you a great big hug and a wet, slobbery kiss on the cheek!"

"Bloody hell, no!" Running around the group of people with Harry close on his heels, Ron squeals in fear. After tackling Ron to the ground, they roll around in a mock wrestling match. "You're not gonna win, you green-eyed git!"

"Watch me, you ginger prat!"

"Boys." In a collective sigh of exasperation, all of the women present shake their heads and break into giggles afterwards. After a minute or so, Harry has Ron pinned to the ground, his arm locked behind his back and his knees holding his legs down.

"I give, I give!" Ron yells, tapping Harry's arm at an awkward angle. Getting off of his best mate, Harry offers his hand to the boy and hauls him to his feet. "Blimey, Harry! Living with the Delacour's must have let you get stronger."

"Damn right!" Flexing playfully, he breaks down in laughter shortly after Ron.

"Git."

"Prat."

"Both of you shut up." Hermione snaps, trying to hide a smile as she smacks both of them on the backs of their heads.

"Sorry, Hermione." Both boys says sheepishly, earning a triumphant smirk from the brunette girl.

"You've got my boyfriend trained well, 'Ermione." Fleur says, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Should I be worried 'e will listen to you more zan me?"

"I'm not suicidal anymore, Fleur." He says with a laugh as he starts to walk down the stairs, only to notice there's no sound following after him. "What's going on?"

"Harry, what do you mean you're not suicidal anymore?"

Singe* - Monkey

Putain** - Whore

Welp, there's another chapter. Normally, I'd do the mwahahaha, but not on a somber cliffhanger like that. Sorry it's such a short one, but I wanted to split up the Quidditch Cup thing into two parts. The actual game, and the Death Muncher's party. Anywho, the amount of time between chapters will be spreading out again. I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter with the cup. To me, it never really seemed like a huge thing. It always seemed Harry wasn't all that interested in the books, and since I'm basing this story around the books and not the movies, yeah. Anywho, I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, and as usual, constructive criticism is appreciated, and flames will be used to bake cookies from my followers. Like always, read, review, and spread this shit like wildfire. This is Mystery Critic, signing off.