This scene was pretty fun, and I struggled whether to take it out, but in the end, there was too much overt sexual tension. Also, most of it was entertainment, without really driving the story forward. You'll notice that parts of it made its way into the real story. Also, I felt like it was beginning to repeat the Burrow too much.
Barely conceived thoughts swirled in a mind that was waking up a few seconds later than the rest of the body, which was already reporting that something lay on his chest. Whatever it was, it smelled wonderful.
Harry opened his eyes and peered into a pile of blond hair. An arm was draped across his chest and he reveled in the feeling of waking up this way.
He touched his lips to her forehead. "Morning."
An inarticulate noise escaped Fleur's lips. Then she slid off his chest, buried her head against his side, and fell back to sleep.
Harry smiled and turned onto his side, facing her, and stared at his . . . girlfriend? Yeah, that was the right word. It felt weird saying it last night, but Fleur's smile helped him get over that rather quickly. With a midday sun, he could see the small smile that graced her lips as she slept. But the smile only highlighted cheekbones that were too prominent, a jaw line too sharp, and a body that looked too frail. He'd seen hints of it the night before, but the light was laying bare the physical reminders of her pain.
He reached out to stroke her cheek but stopped himself. A slight darkening of the skin created faint circles under her eyes. Veela magic was supposed to prohibit that from happening, and the fact that it didn't gave more testimony to what she had suffered over the last few months.
Another stab of regret pierced his chest. Even when he tried to protect her, he hurt her. Great.
Harry eased himself out of bed and walked into the sitting room.
"Froissé?"
She appeared out of thin air. "How can Froissé help Fleur's 'arry?"
He couldn't help but smirk. "Can you bring a tray of Fleur's favorite breakfast?" he asked, thankful again for learning French.
"Froissé can do that, but it be past midday. Does Fleur's 'Arry prefer lunch instead?"
It sounded just as funny the second time. "I don't know. What do you think Fleur would want?"
The elf twitched her ears back and forth and bounced a finger off her bulbous nose, deep in thought. "I be bringing both. Fruits and light pastries for breakfast and—"
"Pastries?" Harry cut her off.
Half an hour later, Harry walked into his bedroom with a tray of food: slices of French bread, jams, croissants, and some fruits lined one side of the tray; an assortment of meats, cheeses, baguettes, and other various items lined the other. The middle was covered with a napkin. He set the tray on the dresser, slipped out of his trousers, and lay down in the bed again.
"Fleur?" he said, and caressed her cheek.
She mumbled and snuggled closer to him, looking so angelic that Harry felt guilty trying to wake her a second time.
"Mon Amour."
"Oui?" she answered before her eyes snapped open. "'Arry?!"
He bit back a laugh. "Bon jour," he said, and kissed her on the forehead. "I have breakfast."
Fleur wiped the sleep from her eyes, then propped herself against the headboard and stretched.
"Sleep well?" Harry asked. He used the covers to wipe away a line of spittle from Fleur's cheek.
She turned crimson. "Stay zhere!" She snatched her wand from the nightstand and ran into the bathroom and Harry broke out in laughter.
The door cracked open and a wand emerged. "Is my new boyfriend laughing at me?"
"Of course not," Harry answered. "I'm laughing at the situation."
The door opened a little more and Fleur poked her head out to glare at him, but he just laughed harder. She huffed and shut the door, but after the last few months of watching Veela react in relationships, Harry had a feeling he knew what was coming.
The door opened and Fleur stepped out, a cute scowl on her face. "So, you laugh at your new girlfriend?" Fleur asked. She stalked across the floor, her pupils were slightly dilated, and a slight flush radiated from her neck and arms. Harry knew that look. He'd seen it every time Azzurra stalked Markus in retribution.
He gulped.
Fleur reached the end of the bed. "You zhink a drooling Veela is funny?"
Despite his better judgment, Harry nodded that he did, and braced himself.
Fleur cross her arms, but her wand remained in plain view. "You zhink a drooling girlfriend is funny?"
He gripped the sheets beneath him and nodded in the affirmative again – almost anxious to see what she was going to do.
Fleur stepped up onto the bed. "I'LL SHOW YOU FUNNY!" She hit him with a tickling charm, then straddled him, and reached for his sides to add to the torture.
Harry twisted and gyrated on the bed, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to make her stop.
"Do you still zhink it is funny?" she asked after a minute or so.
"Yep."
She took a dramatic breath, giggled, and reached back, drawing her fingers across the sensitive skin on the backside of his upper legs.
He jumped and squirmed on the bed. "Alright, alright, stop! Bloody hell! That's enough!"
She leaned forward and pinned his shoulders to the bed, her face an inch away from his and her hair tickling his face. He could feel a different type of Veela magic radiating off her and his body was beginning to react in very pleasurable ways.
"Who says it's enough?" she asked, her voice playful and challenging, with a hint of desire laced in it.
Harry grinned, placed his hands on her stomach, and benched pressed her off him. An actual "Eep!" escaped her lips and Harry laughed, then flipped her in the air and let her drop on the other side of the bed. He rolled on top of her.
"I do!"
He lowered his head until his lips were inches away from hers. "Though I like it when you take control." A moment of intimate silence passed between them before Harry realized the double entendre, coupled with the way his body was pressed against hers.
"I can't believe I just said that!" he said, and buried his head under Fleur's chin. She wrapped her arms around him and filled the room with laughter.
"Papa said your Veela-chicks made you playful – I think zhat's something else I need to thank them for." She kissed him on the cheek, then nuzzled up to his ear and whispered, "Or maybe I should just show you how thankful I am."
Harry audibly gulped and much of the blood in his body diverted south. Fleur had climbed into bed last night in her knickers and t-shirt, which meant that he could feel the outline of her—he leaped off her, landing on the other side of the bed face down, and covered his head with a pillow.
"That's an interesting position, 'Arry – But I think liked the last one better," she teased.
He groaned into the mattress. "Three months at Durmstrang and I still can't last more than a few seconds with you."
"I certainly hope you'll last much longer than that," Fleur answered in seductive voice that caused Harry's body to tingle even more. He felt a blush start about the middle of his back and work its way up. Fleur giggled, then pulled the pillow away and forced him to roll onto his side. "I'm just glad that my 'Arry is back, and that I can still make him blush."
He leaned back and narrowed his eyes.
"I like my innocent 'Arry. I feel safe around 'im, even if he 'as gotten more playful." She gave him a peck on the lips. "Now what was it you brought for me?"
"Wicked as Morgan le Fay," he said.
"Worse," she corrected. "And I thought you learned French!"
"Huh?"
Fleur rolled her eyes. "Morgan le Fay is a French name. It means 'Morgan the fairy.'And since Morgans are water spirits, she was probably some kind of a cross between the two." A dangerous smirk pulled at the corner of her lips. "Neither of which can match the trouble a playful Veela can cause. I think you should remember that, 'Arry."
Oh Merlin's blue nuts was that ever a challenge, and the way she emphasized his name—
He seriously debated pushing his luck even further, but with the way his body was responding to her right now, he thought better of it. "Um . . . I'll keep that in mind for later." He blushed again, but ignored it and fetched the tray off the Bureau.
Fleur propped herself up on the headboard. "What's that?" she asked, pointing to the napkin once he got back to the bed.
And that quickly, Harry wasn't so sure this was a good idea. What if it backfired? It's too late now, he thought. "It's the last happy memory we have together. I was hoping that we could start over from there."
Harry removed the napkin and watched as Fleur stared at the Chocolate and Crème Torsade. She looked up at him with doe-like eyes. "How did. . . ?"
"I decide?" He finished for her, and smiled. "It reminded me of you. If you only admire the beauty on the outside" – he picked it up and broke off a piece, then fed it to her, "you'll never get to the best part."
Damn, Harry thought, it sounded even worse than it did last time—
A pair of warm, sweet lips pressed against Harry's.
Maybe it wasn't that bad . . .
Ten minutes later, the tray was almost empty. "Thank you," he said.
Fleur raised an eyebrow. "For what?"
He tried to answer, but found that the words were stuck in his throat. Instead, he drew a finger across her cheekbone and to the circle under her right eye, and then let his hand drop to the bed before being able to speak. "I'm sorry. I know that's not enough, but I don't know how—"
"Stop," Fleur said, interrupting him. She splotched his nose with a finger dipped in jelly. "We're not going to wallow in it. I'd rather move on." She leaned in close to him and Harry could feel the heat and magic emanating off her, and just about lost himself when she slowly licked the jelly off with the tip of her tongue. "Wouldn't you?" Fleur grinned at his gobsmacked expression. "Good, you agree." She settled back to his side and took another bite of toast, a coy smile on her lips.
They finished the meal in comfortable silence. Harry levitated the tray back to the bureau, then put his wand down and leaned back against the headboard. "I suppose we should get up and see what everyone else is doing."
"Why?" Fleur asked, her head on his shoulder again. "They know where we are. Let 'em come see us if they want to."
It proved to be prophetic five minutes later when Gabrielle walked into the room. "So, gotten into her knickers yet?"
"Gabrielle!" Fleur yelled.
Harry crossed his arms and relaxed. Even with his stunted sense of self-preservation, he knew better than to get in the middle of his little sister winding up his new girlfriend.
"What? Too crass?" Gabrielle asked, and then turned to Harry. "Sorry, so did you shag her featherless?"
Harry bit down hard on his bottom lip and closed his eyes, trying not to laugh.
"I'm warning you!" Fleur yelled again.
"What?" Gabrielle asked. "I thought the early bird alwaysgets the worm."
The little bugger was fast; Harry had to give Gabrielle credit. But he was even more impressed with Fleur. Her wand was already out and a jinx he didn't recognize caught Gabrielle as she tumbled out of the room. Fleur made a sweeping motion with her wand and the door closed, then she pulled the covers up to her face and broke out in laughter.
"We should probably get upstairs," he said.
"Why's that?" Fleur asked.
"Sirius and Remus are here. There's a good chance that Gabrielle will be coming back with reinforcements."
A/N So, that scene above was actually edited down. Here's the stuff that was edited out of it. I love Gabrielle's character, but it was just too much.
Harry bit down hard on his bottom lip and closed his eyes trying not to laugh.
"I'm warning you!"
"Why?" Gabrielle asked, turning back to Fleur. "That wasn't crass. Besides, I thought the early bird alwaysgets the worm."
"One more comment!" Fleur practically growled.
Gabrielle addressed Harry again. ""
The little bugger was fast, but not as fast has Harry's wand, or Fleur's for that matter. She was three feet from the door when Harry's Riddikulus spell hit her. She bounced off the wall, and then was caught in Fleur's Levicorpus spell, which levitated her over the bed. They laughed at the green skin, pointy hat, and long nose complete with a wart.
"Now you're a wicked witch," Harry said between explosions of laughter.
"I'm going to get you!"
It was close enough. Harry held his stomach in pain from laughing. The unintended consequence however, was Fleur laughing so hard at Harry, that she dropped her spell, and Gabrielle smack in the middle of the bed.
"Give me a little kiss, 'Arry!" the toothless old hag version of Gabrielle said, leaning forward.
"No you don't!" Fleur cut in, and grabbed her around the waist and began tickling.
Gabrielle kicked and screamed until Fleur stopped, and then wrapped her arms around her baby sister, pulling her in tight. Harry reversed the spell and wiped the tears from his eyes.
"Good morning to you too, Gabby," he said.
"I'll leave in a few minutes; I just came down to see how you were doing."
He mussed her hair. "It's okay, and thanks for going behind our backs with Azzurra, Jaleena, and Médeé."
She nodded, then turned over slightly. "Sorry for calling you a bitch."
Fleur kissed her on the top of the head. "I deserved it; but what are we going to do with you?"
"What do you mean?" Gabrielle asked.
"The words that come out of my little sister's mouth."
"Never mind staring at strange men in the shower," Harry added.
"What's this?" Fleur asked a now blushing Gabrielle.
"I think I'll be leaving now."
Fleur held Gabrielle even tighter. "You're not going anywhere until I get an answer! Why is my little sister peeking in the men's showers at Durmstrang?"
"Oh, it wasn't at Durmstrang," Harry corrected. "She did it last night – just barged right in on me for no reason at all and whipped the shower curtain back, then tried to start up a conversation of all things!"
"IT WASN'T LIKE THAT!" Gabrielle protested.
"No?" Harry asked. "You want me to Pensieve it? I still have a couple other memories that could go in there as well, we can have fun reliving all of them.
A/N I almost wished I kept it, but the whole "witch" thing was too over the top.
The next scene has parts that feel familiar from the actual chapter. However, again, it didn't do anything to further the story.
X ~ X ~ X ~ X
"I need to pick something up at the office. Why don't you come with me, Harry?" Mr. Delacour said a little while later.
Worry began to tickle the underside of his thoughts, and was made worse when Sirius, sitting behind Mr. Delacour in the larger sitting room on the main floor, drew a finger across his neck.
Remus smack Sirius on the arm. "Knock it off or you're going to put him in spell-shock."
"He needs to know what's coming," Sirius countered.
"And how would you know?" Tonks asked from the couch. "According to mum, your trousers were usually around your ankles when a witch's father entered the room."
Sirius blushed, and Tonks let out a whoop.
Harry huffed. "This isn't helping!"
"Don't worry," Mr. Delacour said. "It's nothing like that. I just wanted someone to accompany me to the office and thought we could talk on the way."
"Oh, sure, I'll go with you then."
Harry felt a pair of arms slip around him from behind. "Be nice to him Papa!" Fleur warned.
Forty minutes later, he was sitting in a chair by the fireplace in Mr. Delacour's office.
"I take it things are different between you and my daughter since the last time we were in here."
Harry nodded as Mr. Delacour sat in the opposite chair and passed a bottle of butterbeer to him. "Yes, sir."
"Don't start with the 'sir' bit. You want to be on my good side, don't you?" Mr. Delacour asked with a smile. "I think you know me well enough to call me by my first name."
"Thanks. I'm just a little nervous. I mean, I'm finding out that it's less unnerving facing Voldemort than a girlfriend's father."
Jacque chuckled. "The first time I faced Apolline's father, he sat at their kitchen table and cleaned his wand collection while reciting every cutting curse he knew." He looked at Harry and shook his head. "Apolline almost left me because she thought I wasn't interested in witches."
He laughed, settled into the couch.
"Look, I'm not going to give you the overprotective father speech. Just do me a favor and respect a couple rules in my house." Jacque said. "First, I know that Fleur is an adult and you might as well be with everything you're dealing with, but please, don't bed my daughter under my roof."
Harry choked on a mouth full of butterbeer, but he managed to keep it off the expensive couch as he started coughing. Jacque conjured a napkin for him and used a couple cleaning charms on his clothes.
"Maybe you should wait until we're done with this part of the conversation before taking another drink."
"Yeah, maybe you're right," Harry agreed. "I promise you I, we, haven't done that, or even came close to it." A memory from the Burrow came to the surface. Harry crossed his arms and leaned back against the chair. He had just realized that Jacque had taken a bit of the mick out of him. "Besides, with two Veela daughters, I'd bet you have all types of Charms that you've put into place."
Jacque lifted an eyebrow. "What kind of charms would those be?" He asked in an innocent voice.
"I'm not that daft . . . sir."
Jacque laughed. "Yes, the house is charmed in many different ways, including charms to protect our daughter's chastity." He held up a hand. "And if you know any different about either daughter, please don't tell me."
The tortured look on Jacque's face said much more than his words ever could. Harry grunted his agreement, hoping to move beyond this part of the discussion rather quickly.
"Second, I just ask you to be absolutely honest with her. I stayed out of whatever it was between the two of you before and let you work it out yourselves, but if there's one thing I've learned from being married to a Veela for twenty plus years, it's to be absolutely honest. On top of that, Fleur deserves the respect."
It could have been much worse, Harry thought to himself. He was planning on being honest with Fleur in the first place.
"And then a request," Jacque said. "As her father, I obviously don't like the two of you sleeping in the same bed, especially at your ages regardless of what I've said before. But I also know why it happens. I just ask that if it needs to be, you'll sleep upstairs in Fleur's bed. That way, if the chastity charms alert us, you're quickly within hexing distance."
Harry blushed, but in spite of himself, he began to laugh. "I promise."
"Good."
The smiled at each other, then Harry asked. "Is it safe to take a drink now?"
"Yeah, at least for you." Jacque stood up walked over to his desk. "I'm still nervous about having this conversation with Fleur."
Harry stopped with the bottle halfway to his lips. "Why would you risk doing that?"
"Because if I don't, Sirius'll give Fleur the "take care of 'Arry" speech, and from what I know of him, I'm not sure I want him giving my daughter any ideas about how to do that."
A/N I think in hindsight, I should've kept this instead of the scene I ended with. However, I would've shortened it and made it happen at the Delacour home.
Next, is my first real mistake. This scene is such a better introduction to Neville. I wish I had kept it instead of what I have in the story.
X ~ X ~ X ~ X
The next three days flew by quickly and Harry enjoyed every minute of it. For the first time in seven months, he was together with those he considered family without his own life being in an uproar. Sure, there was still the Horcrux issue hanging over his head. They had even talked about that the night before, with the conclusion that everyone needed to research it more – not too helpful, even if it was true.
After dinner, they all gathered in the larger sitting room and chatted about nothing and everything. The evening was beginning to wind down when Fleur asked Sirius, "Anything we need to know about the war in Britain?"
"Not really," he answered. "Anyone who stands against the Death Eaters is killed. People have either joined their side, or have been cowed into acceptance. We're trying what we can, but at this point . . ."
"Is it really that bad?" Jacque asked.
Harry wondered that as well. If he had to go over there and face the general wizarding populace, could he do it?
"Worse," Charlie cut in. "Neville is working with a group, making small counterstrikes and trying to disrupt the new government. He's been branded an enemy of wizards, and has a bounty of seven thousand Galleons on his head."
"Who's that?" Gabrielle asked.
"A friend of mine," Harry answered, and took a deep breath. He felt Fleur squeeze his hand in support and he looked up at her. "I can't hide too much longer. It's not fair to Neville."
"Not fair?" Tonks barely said out before she burst out in laughter. "The day that bounty was announced, he showed up in Diagon Alley and challenged anyone to collect it. One person tried. I swear twenty wands appeared out of nowhere. I heard it took seven hours for the Healers to reverse all the spells and hexes the tosser was hit with – and Neville never even produced his own wand."
"You're kidding me!" Jacque said.
"Not in the least. That boy is making a name for himself." Tonks stopped for a moment, remembering something, then grinned. "Of course, then there's the story of his grandmother and the Death Eaters."
Harry's eyes widened. He knew Augusta Longbottom, or at least knew of her through Neville. That was one tough old bird. "What happened," he asked.
Tonks, Charlie and Sirius all turned to Remus. "Why don't you tell them, since you were there," Charlie said.
"The rest of you were too," Remus reminded them.
Sirius let out a short bark of laughter. "We were running out the back door. Only you were dumb enough to stay near Augusta Longbottom when someone brassed her off."
"Wait," Fleur interrupted. "We're talking about a sweet little grandmother against Death Eaters?"
Tonks morphed into an elderly, but stately woman. "Yes we are, and if you doubt me, I'll take you over my knee and knock some sense into your brain from the backside, child! Anymore stupid questions?"
"Bloody hell!" Harry said. "That's exactly like Neville described her."
Sirius slapped Remus on the leg. "So tell the story."
Remus glared at him, then turned the rest of the group. "The story, right. So there was Sirius, surrounded by three Ravenclaw seventh years, stuck to the wall face first, upside-down and naked for breakfast—"
"Not that story, you tossbag."
Remus shrugged. "Sorry, there's so many that start out with Sirius either suspended from something or running from something that I get confused. So let me think for a second . . .
"We got word that Death Eaters were going to visit the Longbottom place to kidnap and use Augusta as leverage against Neville. But they severely underestimated her. We showed up to get her to safety, but she refused to go. Just as we were leaving, eight Death Eaters appeared on her front grass and she started blasting away at them – right through the walls of her house. By the time she was done, the front of the house had caved in and all eight Death Eaters were out of commission in the front yard."
"Was she okay?" Mrs. Delacour asked, settling into the couch next to her husband.
"Yeah," Tonks answered. "She's holed up with Minerva, an old school friend and a professor at Hogwarts. They're both purebloods and are using their connections to cause havoc among the older generation. Most of us don't even want to know what they're doing at this point, but it's good to have them on our side."
"So many," Fleur said under her breath. Harry looked over at her and she caught his eye, then she turned to Sirius and Remus. "So when do you think we should go back to Britain?"
"We?" Harry asked in surprise. "I—" He bit back what he was about to say, and tried a different track. "Can we not talk about this right now?"
Fleur nodded, and let it go. But for the rest of the evening, Harry was restless, and he knew that she had picked up on it. He was thankful however, that she didn't push the subject. Then again, that also meant that he had to bring it up, and talk it out with her. Something he really didn't want to do. Nevertheless, after everyone else went to bed, he found himself standing in front of her bedroom door. "Fleur? Can I come in?"
"Of course," she answered.
Harry pushed the door opened. Whatever she was doing, she had stopped and was now sitting on the bed. Harry walked over and sat next to her. "I really don't know how to do this."
"Do what?" she asked. But she knew exactly what he meant, Harry thought, watching the way she was nervously playing with the edge of the pillowcase.
"Talking about things," he answered. "I mean, the other night was great, but I don't want to go through another six months of feeling like I did before we get another three days together . . . though it'd be worth it," he finished in a voice just loud enough for Fleur to hear.
Her smile put a warmth in his chest, and he reached out for her hand. "I learned that I have to be honest and tell you exactly what I feel."
Fleur didn't say anything, so he continued. "Look, the prophecy is about me. And since we haven't found a way to get rid of this thing in my head, we both know where it will end—"
A blink and a ragged breath from Fleur made him stop.
"Don't think like that!" she said. "It's only been a few days. We haven't even begun researching Horcruxes yet, nor have we had a chance to talk to Professor Sirko about it.
"But I can't wait. Neville is being hunted, and if he is, then I imagine Susan, and Cho, and everyone else who stood against the Death Eaters are as well. How long should I sit and wait for an answer about saving my own life? Why should I trade their lives for mine?"
Fleur opened her mouth, but didn't say anything. Instead, she turned away for a moment. When she turned back around, Harry's heart sank at the sight of "Beauxbatons Fleur" that had appeared.
"You're right," she said in an expressionless voice. "And who am I to sit here instead of going and helping you meet your destiny, whatever that is?"
Who am I . . . help . . . wait! Damn, damn, damn! This is not how this conversation is supposed to go! Harry took a deep breath to calm himself. "I don't want you hurt."
The facade cracked and her voice began to shake a little when she spoke again. "I didn't understand that before, but it doesn't make it any easier now."
"I know," he admitted, and let go of her hand. He reached around her and pulled her body into his. She wrapped her arms around him and they fell back on the bed, with her lying on top, but somewhat off to the side of him. He brushed away the hair that had fallen into her eyes. "I know it was Veela that Muggles confused with Guardian Angels, and that it comes from the fierce protectiveness a Veela feels for those they're close to. But can you understand that I feel the same way about you?"
Fleur buried her face in his chest. "I don't want to," she admitted. "So what are we going to do? It's going to take you tying me up to the bedpost to get me to stay when you go back to Britain. I just can't sit around while you march off to your death – and since you feel the exact opposite . . ." she let the sentence hang.
"I don't know," he answered, and pulled her in tighter.
They lay in silence for a while, her head on his chest and his arms around her. He had just about fallen to sleep when she popped back up. "When you go back, it won't be straight to a battle, right? I mean, you'll probably go back and meet with the Order first, find out what's been going on and what you need to do, right?"
"I guess, I really haven't thought about it. Why?"
"Well," Fleur lay down next to him. He rolled on his side and waited for her to continue as he lost himself in her eyes. "What if, for now, we agree that I go with you to the meetings? We'll be coming back to France after, since it's safer for you here until you're ready to do whatever you need to do. Once we have an idea of what that is, we can discuss my involvement. This way, we don't fight over it now, and we at least will know more when the time comes."
Great! Harry thought to himself. And that way, you get to win the Order to your side, make it so that I can't stand being out of your presence, and then win the argument by default.
But there really didn't seem to be any other options. He closed his eyes and hoped that she could see how much this was about to hurt him. "Okay, but that doesn't mean I like it."
Fleur traced a finger down his nose, stopping on his lips. "I think I like this."
"What? Winning?" he asked with a slightly cheeky smile.
She flicked him on his nose. "No, you coming to me and telling me what you're thinking, and then us talking about it."
"Speaking of that," Harry started. "You brought something up that I want to talk about a little more."
"Oh?" Fleur said. "What would that be?"
"Tying you to the bed posts."
Her jaw dropped and she went bright red. Harry leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "Goodnight, Fleur," he said, and walked out of the room.
But as the door closed, he heard Fleur slightly ragged voice.
"Little batard!" she said, followed by a giggle.
A/N So it ends pretty much the same way, but there's a whole lot less "Let's watch Fleur be a seductress" in it, and drives the story better than what I ended up posting, I think. In hindsight, I should've combined the two scenes, taking some of the infodump in the canon version of my story and putting it here, then dumping the whole Fleur stocking Harry thing.
The next scene really deviates from the final version, and again, I find myself thinking that I wish I would've kept it.
X ~ X ~ X ~ X
The stress of the previous night, on top of the last few days caught up with Harry the next morning, and he slept in well past his normal time. He finally woke up to someone laying next to him and running her hand through his hair.
"Wakey wakey!"
He opened his eyes and stared at her. That was something he thought he'd never hear her say.
"Did you sleep well last night?" she asked. Her eyes suspiciously playful.
Warnings were flashing in his head, but he wasn't awake enough to figure out what they meant. "Yeah, why?" he asked.
"Oh, just wondering." Fleur pushed on his shoulder and he rolled up on his side away from her. She slid in next to him and cradled him against her, just in time for someone else to come through the door.
"Fleur?" Harry said, extremely confused.
"Harry! Why are you in bed with Tonks!"
He jumped out of the bed, twisting around at the same time to see Tonks lying next to him in a shirt and her knickers.
"Come back, Harry. We were having so much fun!"
"What! I . . . you . . . Fleur . . . No!"
"What's wrong?" Tonks asked. "Come back and lay down. Maybe Fleur and I can help you rub one out."
Harry's jaw dropped. After a couple vivid scenes flashed through his mind, he stood up and turned to Fleur. "Who?"
She kissed him on the cheek. "I think you should go blame Sirius."
He stormed out of the room and took the stairs two at a time. "Sirius!" he yelled.
"In here," his godfather answered from the dining room.
Harry headed that way, forgetting that he had on nothing but boxers. He didn't even feel the charm that Tonks had cast, changing the color to pink with white writing. "I like to rub one out."
He reached the dining room and faced Sirius, sitting at the end of the table. "Why in the hell would you send Tonks to prank me like that!"
Sirius threw his had back and laughed, but it was someone else that answered.
"He didn't. We did. By the way, nice boxers." Harry looked over and saw Azzurra, along with his other Veela chicks sitting at the head of the table, with Gabrielle and Mrs. Delacour next to them. Two other seats were empty. He'd been set up by the lot of them. Then he looked down and noticed the pink boxers, and the writing.
"Abso-freaking-lutely hilarious," he said.
"I think so!"
Harry glanced across the table to a smiling Marcus. "I'll deal with you out back under dueling wards!" he challenged.
"He's getting a little big for 'em trousers he should be wearing, isn't he?" Sirius asked.
"Why should he be wearing trousers?" Gabrielle wondered aloud. "I like the show just like it is. How about you, Medée?"
"I don't know, the trousers 'e bought when we went shopping look pretty good. Plus, I got to palm his arse a few times." She crossed her arms. "What do you think, Jaleena?"
"I think we're not even, yet. Harry should sit down and give us a long, detailed explanation about what 'rubbing one off,' means." She cocked an eyebrow. "Maybe even with personal examples?"
"Damn," Sirius said, "I don't think I've even been in it this deep. Three Veela seeking revenge, being aided by a fourth and a metamorphmagus? That's has to be some kind of record."
A pair of arms wrapped around Harry. "You looked like you would have really enjoyed Tonks's offer."
He blushed and turned around. "Et tu, Fleur?"
"I see you've made it through dad's Shakespeare section in the library."
"Three months away from her and your spending your time reading books?" Marcus asked. "No wonder you Brits have to rub one out."
"So that's why—"
Gabrielle didn't get any further as Fleur's wand came level with her nose. "Don't even think about it."
"What?" Gabrielle asked, her arms spread wide and a look of devilish innocence on her face.
Harry smirked. "Yeah, instead, why don't you spend the next twenty minutes explaining how you like to sneak a look at wizards in the shower."
The room fell silent as every head turned to Gabrielle, and Harry took the opportunity to disappear downstairs to get dressed.
"When did they get here?" Harry asked a few minutes later in his bedroom.
"About an hour before you woke up." Fleur answered. "It seems Gabrielle sent them an Owl and told them about the other night, then invited them over." She sat down on the chair in the corner of the bedroom.
"Are you okay with them being here?" he asked.
"Yeah," Fleur said. But she was looking down, picking at a string that hung off the Muggle jeans she was wearing.
He picked up a shirt and pulled it over his head. "You don't sound okay with it."
"It's just that, I'm afraid . . . I'm just being childish. Never mind." Fleur gazed up at him and smiled. "Besides, it was fun watching them wind you up."
"Thanks," he said in a sarcastic voice. "Are you sure, though?"
Fleur hesitated, but then she stood up and walked over to him and laid a hand on each side of his face. "You dealt with things last night like a grown up, and I'm going to do the same today." She pushed him onto the bed and grabbed the socks out of his hand. "By the way, I absolutely hate these, at least color-coordinate your socks with your pants!"
Harry propped himself up on his arms and rolled his eyes while Fleur dug through his sock drawer. She threw a pair that she approved of at him. "Dinner is going to be intersting tonight, by the way."
"Why's that?" he asked.
"The Flock Leader is coming." Fleur paled slightly. "It seems I may have done something that's going to cause a few problems."
Harry couldn't help but smile. He sat up and pulled Fleur into his lap. "I would thank you for marking me, but entirely too many Veela were humored at my expense."
The corner of Fleur's lips pulled up. "I know about the day in Paris, but you never did tell me how your Veela-chicks found out about it."
Her mouth still twisted over his pet-phrase, but Harry could tell she was getting used to it. Then again, he wasn't sure what she'd do if he told her how Medée found out.
But Fleur seemed to read his thoughts. "Don't worry, 'Arry, I know one of them probably had to kiss you to know for sure – just like Paige did."
He breathed a small sigh of relief, and launched into the story, complete with the smart-arse comments. That led to the story of his earning the right to find out about the mark, and the trip to Milan.
X ~ X ~ X ~ X
After lunch, Marcus and Harry went for a run, then practiced down below the gardens in the valley below the Delacour house. The rest of the guys and Tonks went with them to watch the training and fighting. Mrs. Delacour and Gabrielle had an appointment with Gabrielle's American friend and her mother somewhere, which left the house empty, except for Fleur and the three Veela from Durmstrang.
Fleur sat on the couch in the smaller sitting room with Azzurra. They could see Marcus and Harry in the distance.
"I guess I should say, 'thanks,'" Fleur said, her voice soft and hesitant.
Azzurra pulled her eyes away from Marcus. "You don't like me."
The fact that it was a statement rather than a question wasn't lost on Fleur. "That's not it. You've been good for 'Arry, and good too him."
Azzurra raised an eyebrow at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Exactly what it sounds like." She ran a finger around the brim of the teacup she was holding. "When he left here this summer, he was hurting from everything that happened last spring, and from the things I said and did as well. He—both of us, actually—were acting like children. Now he shows up like that." Fleur gestured towards the valley.
"And you have a problem with that?" Azzurra asked. A hard undertone lined her voice.
"No, it's more than I could ever ask for, and much more than I think I deserve."
Azzurra turned in her chair to face Fleur head on. "Let's top with the cryptic stuff and just come out with it."
Fleur bit down on her lip, and thought about telling her to forget she ever said anything. But it was obvious that Marcus and Azzurra were important to 'Arry, and probably would be for the rest of his life, however long that would be – another issue she didn't want to think about. She owed it to him to have this conversation.
She put the cup down and pulled her legs up onto the couch, tucking them under her. "Last summer I realized I was a very selfish, ugly person – not Veela, but person, and I figured out that I had to change that if I wanted anyone to like me – let alone 'Arry. Then all through the fall, I just resorted back to the same thing.
"Then that week after he ran into the side the mountain, I watched the three of you. I couldn't help but notice how much you all took care of him and – and I got jealous, especially with Jaleena. She was so caring, so loving, and so beautiful, and it has nothing to do with being a Veela."
"You're a foolish person, you know that?"
Fleur jumped when she heard the voice from behind her. Jaleena and Médée stepped into the room and sat down in chairs at either end of the long coffee table that was in front of the couch.
"Put aside the fact that Harry is completely in love with you," Jaleena continued, "I can sense how much you absolutely hate this conversation right now. Yet you're still subjecting yourself to it. Why?"
She shrugged. "Because he cares about all of you."
"And you wish he didn't?" Jaleena asked.
Fleur started to deny it, but thought better about it. If 'Arry could face up to things honestly in this relationship, so could she. "In some ways. But I'd never tell him that." She looked at the three of them, her gaze becoming firm. "And I better not ever find out you told him either. He's lost too many friends as it is and doesn't need me making him choose between me and a new set of friends."
Azzurra put her cup down. "I'll ignore the fact that a part-Veela just threatened a naturally full-Veela for a moment and—"
"I don't care if you're the head of the entire Zekānōt. I will pluck every—"
Jaleena and Médée jumped out of their chairs. Each one of them had their arms wrapped around a full-feathered Veela bearing a wand and, in Azzurra's case, a small fireball in her opposite hand.
"Easy, it's okay, settle down," Médée said, speaking to Fleur in French.
But something Fleur couldn't name rose up deep within her, and she turned on Médée. Her magic expanded and crashed into the other Veela, pushing her back against the chair.
"FLEUR!"
She turned around to face Azzurra again, but the Italian Veela had morphed again. Her body had pressed back into the form of a human, but the wings remained. Fleur's eyes widened at the sight of the warrior Veela. She had heard the stories, but had never seen one, especially one that had come of age on the spot. Her knees weakened, and her mind went blank as Azzurra's magic washed over her, driving her to a position of submission. Fleur managed to look beyond her to Jaleena, who was standing behind her with her head bowed, obviously catching the penumbra of Azzurra's magic. And then it was all over.
She flopped down on her back and took a couple deep breaths, then looked over at Médée who was doing the same. "Sorry," she apologized. "I don't know how I did that."
She was caught by surprise when she heard Azzurra laughing behind her, and turned around to glare at her.
"Don't tell me you don't know about your own grandmother."
It took every ounce of Fleur's strength not to transform again. That was a very touchy subject, and Azzurra's grandmother was the one that led the Veela Flocks against her. "I do know about her," Fleur said when she was under control again. "Your grandmother threw her out of a meeting because she wanted Veela fight back against the wizards and Muggles that were destroying the continent."
"Almost," Azzurra said. "And by the way, my grandmother, like my mother after her, was wrong when it comes to keeping Veela separated. But my grandmother did more than throw your grandma out of a meeting, she had her removed from the Zekānōt completely. That is why your second cousin is the Flock Leader, rather than your mother.
Fleur was stunned.
"She didn't know," Jaleena said, stepping in front of Azzurra and helping Fleur to the couch.
Azzurra shook her head. "How could she not?" She looked at Fleur. "You think anybody, even a normal Veela can use a charm to put a dragon to sleep? Harry told us how powerful your magic is. That is not normal for a second generation part-Veela. You had to have known that."
"But," Fleur began to protest, "It's not any different than Paige, or Danielle, or Marie—"
"And they all are . . .?" Azzurra asked.
"My cousins—Zut! My cousins!"
Azzurra smiled. "All descended from your grandma, right?"
Fleur nodded.
"That, plus the fact that you just forced a first generation half-Veela to her knees in submission should be enough to prove my point."
Her eyes widened and she turned to Médée, but Médée cut her off. "Just promise me you'll use that magic to take care of 'Arry. You're right, we all do care for him, even love him. But we don't love him the way you do.
"And he cares for us, maybe even loves us. But I have never seen him light up like he does when you enter the room. So, as your little sister would say, pull your head out of your cute little arse and stop worrying about it."
Fleur felt a hand on her arm and she looked over to see Azzurra. "And what I was about to say, before you turned this into a hen-fight" – Fleur blushed – "is that you're being extremely unselfish for someone who thinks of themselves just the opposite."
"Thanks," Fleur said in a small voice.
"And now the warning," Azzurra continued. "If we find out the two of you are starting to act stupid towards each other again, we'll get Gabrielle, and the four of us will curse the living hell out of the both of you. Understood?"
Fleur looked around to see Médée and Jaleena nodding in agreement.
"Oh," Médée said, "Why don't you ask him what his favorite negotiating position is over dinner tonight, preferably while he's taking a drink?"
"Do I even want to know?" Fleur asked.
"This may be better in context," Jaleena warned. "Do you have a Pensieve?"
"Yeah, why?"
The three Durmstrang Veela looked at each other, and then back to Fleur. "Why don't we take the rest of the afternoon and show you Harry's first-hand education in Veela over the last few months," Jaleena offered.
X ~ X ~ X ~ X
Apolline couldn't stop smiling over the last few days. Not only was her daughter looking better than she had in months, and not only was Fleur finally in a relationship with a young man that Apolline had grown to love, but Azzurra Sala and her Zashtitnik showed up on her doorstep yesterday morning.
And to think, Gabrielle was only going to invite them for a day. Apolline's smile grew as she watched Froissé preparing the formal dining room for dinner. It was a little cumbersome to use at times, since the smaller sitting room was between it and the kitchen, but tonight was too important.
Anastasie quickly accepted her invitation for dinner, though Apolline may have forgotten to let her who all was attending. She looked out of the big bay window to see the Harry's Veela-chicks and Fleur sitting in chairs on the porch, giggling and laughing like schoolgirls. After spending most of yesterday afternoon and evening in Fleur's bedroom with a Pensieve, the four of them were almost inseparable. Gabby had joined them, but she was splitting her time between them and Sirius, who, along with Remus, Charlie, and Tonks, kept her in stitches.
Early this morning, she had caught sight of Harry and Marcus out back practicing their skills at dueling. It was the only time her smile had faltered. Something came over him when he drew that wand and it was almost scary the way he could use it now. It was no wonder Jacque didn't want to duel him. Apolline shook her head to clear her thoughts. Her Flock Leader was due in just a few minutes and normally, that hen was early to any—
A knock on the door proved her right. "Come in," she said after making her way down to the front door. "I'm glad you could make it tonight."
Anastasie stopped mid-step. "What's going on?"
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"You're as excited as a teenage boy on an island of naked Veela – though hopefully not for the same reason."
Apolline laughed. "A husband and two girls, it'd come as a surprise to me."
Anastasie stepped in and closed the door behind her. "You still haven't told me."
"You'll find out soon enough. Any news from the Zekānōt?"
"Let me deal with them. If what you've said is true, I'll make sure there's little to no trouble. Speaking of which however, I need to speak with Fleur first, then 'Arry and her after."
"Follow me," Apolline said. She led the way down the stairs to the small sitting room that doubled as the library next to Harry's bedroom. "Have a seat in here. I'll fetch her and send her down, but please go easy on her. This is the happiest I've seen her in years."
"Apolline, she violated some of our most basic mores. After the last two generations of this family, They are going to see Fleur's actions as a clear disregard for Veela tradition. Either she gets to hear that from me, or she is called in front of a fully formed Zekānōt. Which would you prefer?"
Apolline lowered her head. "I understand. But please take my words into account as well."
"I already have," Anastasie said, and smiled just a little. "Trust me."
X ~ X ~ X ~ X
Fleur stood in hallway and took a deep breath, then stepped into the small room. "Hello, Anastasie," she said, and kissed the inside of the elder woman's wrist before sitting down across the room from her.
"You are looking healthier than you did a few days ago. Would there be any reason for that?" Anastasie asked.
"I think everyone saw firsthand last Friday, and if they didn't, I'm sure my mother showed them the memory in the Pensieve – two or three times."
"I'm glad, though that does bring up the reason I'm here. I did meet the young 'Arry Potter that evening, and I found a mark on him."
Fleur nodded. "As did a number of other Veela."
"Why did you mark a child?"
"A child?"
"He was fourteen and you were a legal adult, even by wizarding standards. Yes, a child."
Fleur shot up out of her chair. "Don't you dare call him a child. You and the rest of elders sit on your ass while those 'children' are dying in a war. He saved my life by attacking the Darkest Wizard in generations and you have the gumption to question me about marking the man that saved my life?"
"SIT!" The very air reverberated with power and Fleur found herself beginning to kneel down under the weight of the Veela magic.
"You will remove the mark and leave him. Do you understand me?"
The words hit Fleur like a curse to the chest. She stumbled backwards and fell back into the chair. But she quickly regained her feet and faced the elder and all her magic. "No!" she said, and pushed hard to fight off the Veela magic that was trying to force her submission. "I will renounce my Veela heritage before I leave him. Do you hear me? I'll renounce all of you!"
The magical push ceased immediately. "You're that sure of him?" Anastasie asked.
"More than I am of being a Veela, yes," she answered.
"Tell me why."
Twenty-five minutes later, Fleur was sitting in the chair waiting for Anastasie to say something. It had been dead silent for at least five minutes. She desperately wanted to fidget, or play with the hem of her shirt or trace the patterns in the couch, something to help alleviate the fear that was building with each second of passing silence. But she knew that the best thing to do sit still.
Anastasie finally shifted in her seat. "You're Veela magic is practically singing. I don't doubt that you love him, nor do I doubt that you told me the truth about waiting and letting him come to you. What I don't understand, however, is what caused you to mark him in the first place."
"I can't tell you," Fleur answered. "I don't really know myself, except that sitting there next to him that day, it was just the right thing to do, and I am not sorry for it. I'm sorry for the problems it has caused, for the ways which it reflects negatively against our mores and culture, but I don't, for a second, apologize for marking him that day, and if I could go back, I'd do it again."
"Even if he goes to back to England and dies?" Anastasie asked.
Fleur glared at her.
"Come, my little chicken, you don't think I am foolish enough to believe he will stay in France while his friends fight a war in England, do you?"
Fleur flexed her fingers, trying to stay calm. "No, but I am surprised that a member of the Zekānōt knows about something that's happening further away than beak distance."
Too her surprise, Anastasie started laughing. "I have to remember that one. Fleur, you know too well the prejudice of the Zekānōt. But just as it would be wrong for me to stereotype 'Arry as just another wizard looking for a piece of exquisite bird-tale, so it would be wrong to stereotype me as just another member of the Zekānōt."
Fleur nodded. "Speaking of which, what happens now?"
"Nothing," Anastasie answered. "I'll find the right Flock Leaders and get them to agree with me that it was a special set of circumstances. There was nothing anyone could do about it then."
"Was?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Anastasie scratched the side of her head and frowned. "Did I say that?" Then she looked at Fleur and smiled. "Let's have dinner, I can't wait to meet 'Arry again."
They walked up the stairs to the main floor and turned the corner. Fleur almost ran into Anastasie when she stopped in the middle of an entrance for the second time that day.
"Azzurra Sala? What are you doing here?"
Azzurra looked up with widening eyes. "Anastasie?" she asked, and slipped out her chair to great the older Veela. "We're here with 'Arry and Fleur."
Fleur smiled at the inclusion of her name. "And have you met Azzurra's boyfriend?" she asked.
"No , I haven't," Anastasie answered.
Azzurra took her cue. "This is Marcus, he's a Zashtitnik."
"Do I want to know why a Zashtitnik is in this particular house?" Anastasie asked.
Fleur's eyes darted back and forth across the table, but they finally came to rest on Harry. She walked around the table and sat next to him, taking his hand under the table and squeezing it.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"I'm not sure, but I think Maman is about to cause some serious trouble in Veela-land again."
"Really?"
"Yeah, you think your Veela-chicks or Gabrielle and I are good at it? Just watch."
" . . . And so we invited them along. I think their leaving tonight, unfortunately," her mother finished explaining.
Anastasie turned to Azzurra. "I wonder how your maman would feel about you being here."
Azzurra gave a benign wave of the hand. "Probably the same way she feels about letting innocents die in war because they're not Veela. Could you pass the spinach please?"
Fleur wondered how long it would take before any dish was passed again.
Anastasie pierced Fleur's mother with a glare. "Did you bring me here to open up old wounds?
"No," she answered back quickly. "I brought you here to help protect against new ones."
So that's what it's about. Fleur's insight was confirmed a moment later. "Both of you?" she asked.
"It's still up for discussion," Fleur answered. "But at least for part of the time, yes."
X ~ X ~ X ~ X
See what I mean?
