a rock and a hard place

AN: A big thanks to all the betas at the flowerpot discord. Valirys Reinhald, Ajax, Charlennette, all really helped out in the editing of this story. Aside from that, the three of them gave me pointers as to where I was straying, and how to improve in future stories. Thank you guys. I wanted to release this version without editing the prose and dialogue too much, to keep as a benchmark for future progress.

There wasn't anything he could do, he was in way over his head. This conflict was one for the ages, and Harry Potter, irrespective of his magical prowess or determination, was not cut out for this kind of war.

Things were starting to get dangerous, as both parties were beginning to get aggravated, Harry feared for his well-being, for he was in peril. Tensions were mounting, neither party willing to relent or compromise. If he didn't escape soon, there was a chance that he'd get stuck in the crossfire.

"Chocolates or no deal."

"You're not getting chocolates, Isabelle. You just had dinner, it's your bedtime now."

He may have been exaggerating about the severity of the situation.

Although truly, he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. A situation that one would expect a man to be in, considering that the conflict was between the two loves of his life- his wife and their daughter.

On one end, there was his wife- Fleur Potter née Delacour, also known as the woman who stole his heart. She was stunningly beautiful and had a heart full of gold. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that he was the luckiest man alive, for he had the pleasure of being with her- of waking up next to her for a million sunrises. If she was the result of facing all the hardships that he had, then he'd bear those hardships a million times over, in this lifetime and the next.

On the other end, there was his daughter- Isabelle Lily Potter, more commonly known as the light of his life. She had just turned five and was the most perfect child- nay, human, to ever exist. Isabelle was a ball of sunshine and love, for she always had the most brilliant smile on her face when she was with her parents. The moment he held her for the first time, he knew that he'd be willing to give the world to her. He finally had a family of his own to look after. He loved her, so very dearly.

With these two being in conflict, one could imagine Harry's dilemma, and his want to get out of this situation unscathed.

"Papa, won't you give me chocolates? Pleaseee?" said Isabelle, pouting at her parents, "Mommy is being a meanie- "

Crap. There went his chance.

Analyzing the situation, he realized that there was no easy option. Fleur was looking at him sharply, knowing his track record in such circumstances, sure of his inability to resist their daughter. Isabelle, on the other hand, was looking, rather hopefully, in his direction.

Determined to get her way, Isabelle made eye contact with him and pouted. Her eyebrows all scrunched up, trying to capitalize on her ability to make her papa's resolve break.

Harry started shaking, knowing that he was very close to breaking. What kind of a father would be able to resist his daughter looking like that?

Her lips quivered, and her eyes began shining with tears unshed.

He faltered, his belief in his ability to resist slowly chipping away. Harry was weighing the pros and cons in his head, the biggest con being his daughter bursting into tears and being unhappy. To that image, his brain only had one response:

Error, cannot let child cry- not on my watch.

He relented, handing her a chocolate, smiling as she rushed out of the room to eat it. As she left, Fleur turned around in a huff.

"Fleur, mi amor, one chocolate won't hurt her," he said as he walked over to his wife, wrapping his hands around her from the behind, "one chocolate, and we'll put her to bed." He spun her around, looking straight at the eyes that captured his heart, and gave her a soft smile.

"It's not fair." she mumbled, choosing to hold him close, "All she has to do is give you one look and you can't help yourself. She's got you wrapped around her finger; you know?"

"I'm her father- that's how the world works, my flower."

Fleur rolled her eyes, "Oui, all fathers end up being patsies. Grow a backbone, my darling." She burrowed further into his chest, unwilling to let go. She could hear his heartbeat, it soothed her.

"Fleur," he started, rubbing circles on her back, "what's wrong? I feel as though something's bothering you."

"I'm scared, Harry."

She continued, "I'm scared of how the world is going to treat our little bundle of joy. She would have had it bad enough as a Veela alone, but her lug of a father being the saviour of the wizarding world and all," she looked up and glared at him playfully, "I'm just scared that she's going to detest us for it as she grows up."

"She won't, my flower. Isabelle is the light of our lives, our small bundle of joy, and as long as I'm alive there is no way in hell that she's going to be unhappy." He pulled back from their embrace, looking into her eyes, "I'll make sure of it, I promise."

"I know you will, so will I, but we can only shield her for so long, no? What happens when she grows up?" She was getting worried by the minute, getting very close to spiralling. Her own childhood read back to her; she didn't want her daughter to go through the same things that she had.

"We'll make sure that she knows how to take care of herself by then, don't you worry."

"To quote a man of feeble resolve- I'm her mother, mi amor- I worry, that's how the world works." Fleur said, with a glint of mischief in her eyes.

"Feeble resolve, eh?" Two can play at that game.

Without a moment's notice, Harry pounced on her, ferociously attacking her sides with his fingers. He tickled her relentlessly, knowing her weaknesses and soft spots. Her melodious laughter mixed with gasps of air filled his ears, as she tried to resist, albeit, futilely. Fleur starts tapping on his arms, saying that she gives up, over and over again until he stops.

He saw her laughing, trying to recover from the vicious tickling, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. He saw her in all her beauty and realized something.

That's my wife.

He started smiling, beaming even, at the thought. It never got old, never got less exciting. She was his, and he was hers. They were a family, and they had a child- one that he thought to be perfect beyond measure. Nothing else mattered, no one else need intrude on this. He loved them, they loved him. He was happy.

Not letting the emotions go to waste, he moved to grab his wife by the waist and pulled her into his loving embrace.

"I promise you, my dearest," he began, planting a kiss on the top of her head, "we'll take care of her and prepare her for whatever might come." Harry continued, leaving a trail of kisses from the top of her head, bringing his lips down to match hers.

Their lips intertwined in a gentle manner, as their worries melted away. Such was the union between Harry Potter and Fleur Delacour, such was the love they shared.

Slowly breaking the kiss, Fleur looked up at Harry, "I love you." Her eyes contain a myriad of emotions, yet her love managed to shine throughout all of them. Harry caught her lips with his own once more, for a brief yet meaningful kiss.

"I love you, my flower." He breathed out, still unable to believe his luck, "Let's go put our little sunshine to bed, shall we? I might have an idea about what we should do tonight…"

Fleur giggled at the thought, nodding as they both got up. Making their way to Isabelle's bedroom, they saw her on the floor, having fallen asleep while eating the chocolate. Harry went, picked her up, and set her on the bed- tucking her in with her mother's help. She looked so serene, lightly snoring, all covered up in blankets while being surrounded by plushies. They both planted a kiss each on her forehead, and turned the lights off in her room.

Harry was content, happy, and so in love with the two women in his life. He might be stuck between a rock and a hard place with them at times, but he wouldn't have it any other way.