Nothing is mine.

Shoutout out to my most recent reviewer for an excellent review! (Yes, I know they didn't like it as much as they hoped, but that's not the point) I use fanfic as a bit of playground to try new things I can't do in the world of commercialised fiction, so anyone who puts that much polite thought into whether they think things are working or not has my immense gratitude! xD

Looking Pensive

Gentle rain pattered on the worn flagstones of the town square; little streams of clear water spilt from the rooftops, gushing down over the weathered marble columns and into the gutter.

Fleur held one hand out from under the shadow of the town hall's roof, letting the cool drops splash off her fingertips.

'Sarcelle,' the Dufort captains greeted, three identical pairs of grey eyes piercing through her from the door of the town hall. 'Bonjour.' They turned away and whispered together; Isobel Dufort cupped the red scar on her neck with one hand, gesturing sharply with the other..

Harry's strange sisters. A touch of warmth rose in her heart. They fought for him, like Katie. But they aren't waiting to steal him away from me if I'm ever less than perfect for him.

'Sarcelle.' Isobel Dufort stepped forward, the rampant golden lion on the chest of her blue robes gleaming in the light spilling from inside the town hall. 'How well do you know Violette?'

Céline took a step toward Fleur. 'What my sister is trying to say—'

'Is do you know anything about where he is?' Colette asked.

'Desrosiers has said nothing to us since we last saw him.' Isobel scowled. 'We do not believe he is dead. Is there any hint he's still alive?'

So they do care about him. Fleur glanced down at the teal swirl on her ring. Not like I do, but not like the shallow little people.

'I know he is not dead,' she murmured.

Isobel reeled back. 'You know?'

'What do you know?' Céline asked, her grey eyes sharp as steel. 'How do—'

'You know for sure?' Colette said.

Fleur laughed. You really have found three more Katies, haven't you, mon Amour?

Isobel's grey eyes flashed and her hand twitched toward her wand.

'Sister,' Céline chided. 'Don't be so impetuous.'

'How do you know?' Isobel demanded.

'I did find it strange that the girl who broke all our records at Beauxbatons just disappeared off to England to work with the goblins in such an unimportant role. It would make much more sense if she had gone there for another reason and that was just a cover…' Colette glanced Fleur up and down with a keen little glint in her eye. 'I think our little brother would be quite cross with you if you were rude to Sarcelle, Isobel…'

The three sisters exchanged a brief sharp glance.

'How's our baby goddaughter?' Isobel asked, lowering her voice to a whisper. 'Henri said she seems happy every time he sees her.'

A sharp pain twisted in Fleur's breast. 'He was not lying,' she murmured. 'She is usually smiling and only gets upset when she cannot be held.'

'And Henri?'

'I know he is alive,' Fleur said. 'The wedding ring he made for me beats so long as his heart does.'

'So he lives,' Céline said.

Colette frowned. 'But he has not come back.'

'Captured.' Isobel's hand crept toward her wand. 'He is captured. Are the others alive and captured too, or do you not know?'

'I do not know,' Fleur replied. 'But you can't get to him. I don't even know where he is.'

The Duforts shared a long look.

Colette shook her head. 'There is only one place Grindelwald could safely keep Henri—'

'Nurmengard,' Céline said.

Isobel grabbed her sisters' shoulders. 'Sisters, we should—'

'We cannot,' Colette said.

'We must,' Isobel hissed.

'We cannot, sister,' Céline murmured. 'Grindelwald presses us from all sides. There is nobody to take our place and without us, Ansgar Fürstenburg will soon be able to breach the wards with brute force and press on unchallenged.'

Isobel turned her back on her sisters.

'Pardon,' Céline murmured.

'Our sister is hot-tempered,' Colette said. 'We are fond of our little brother. He reminds us of ourselves when we were younger.'

They would even go to Nurmengard for you, mon Amour. Fleur stifled a small frown. You would go fight for them too, wouldn't you.

'I will tell you if I ever learn more,' she said. 'But I must reinforce the wards.'

'You cannot go after him either,' Isobel said, whirling around. 'That's why you're still here. All the wards of France now depend on you.'

'He will be fine,' Fleur said. 'He would endure anything for me and our daughter.'

Even never coming back at all.

'People should not be left to suffer in Nurmengard alone for long,' Céline whispered. 'Suffering is the chrysalis of monsters and Henri is a very powerful wizard.'

Fleur folded her arms. 'If I learn anything I will tell you.'

After Katie returns. After La Victoire Finale. Then I will tell you he has returned. A creeping cold rose in her tummy. Or he might try to fight Grindelwald with you. And end up stuck playing hero to all the shallow little people when he wins.

'Where are you headed next?' Isobel asked. 'Spain?'

'Yes.'

Colette caught Isobel's eye and shook her head. 'We cannot, sister…'

'We can—'

'Sister,' Céline murmured.

'Be careful.' Isobel stared down at the golden lion on her breast. 'I do not want our little brother coming back to find his wife dead. I do not trust the British and American volunteers on the Spanish border. Or Ginevra Weasley and her aurors in the Netherlands. It was British Unspeakables who assured us Grindelwald would not be there when Henri, Vert and Grise went to target the vampire princes.'

'If you need us, we are here more often than not,' Colette said.

'You are our little sister too.' A small grin flashed across Céline's lips.

I'm not your little sister. My sister's dead. Soft heat bubbled in Fleur's bones. Nobody can ever replace her.

Isobel waggled her eyebrows. 'We always wanted another pretty sister.'

Colette snickered into her sleeve.

Fleur bit back sharp, hot words and stole a deep breath. 'Non,' she said, wrinkling her nose.

The Duforts laughed.

'Henri really does tell his beautiful wife everything, doesn't he?' Isobel beamed. 'He's such a good boy.'

'Not always.' A little smirk crept onto Fleur's lips. 'Sometimes he is not good at all.'

They giggled.

She drew her wand and glanced out into the rain. 'I must reinforce the wards and then move on; au revoir.'

'Au revoir,' they chorused. 'Bonne chance.'

Isobel caught her sleeve. 'If you find a way to send a message to Henri, tell him that his sisters miss him. Tell him while one of us lives, none of us can die. We will not allow it.'

'He already knows he's not allowed to die,' Fleur retorted. 'I told him. He is mine. He is not allowed to not come back to me.'

Isobel's grey eyes flashed with laughter. 'Henri was not exaggerating, sisters. Our pretty little sister doesn't want to share with us.'

'Don't tease, sister.' Céline rolled her eyes. 'It is not the time.'

'No,' Colette murmured. 'It is not.'

Fleur stepped out into the rain and thrust her wand into the air, pouring her magic into it, splitting it into countless threads and twisting it into a writhing, shifting weave of magic. Fatigue bit deep, tugging at her limbs as she lowered her wand and tucked it away.

The Duforts watched from beneath the edge of the town hall's roof.

She slipped off Sarcelle's ring and swept her silver hair back over her shoulder.

Isobel whistled and winked.

Fleur turned her nose up into the rain, lifting the acorn pendant out of her cleavage on its fine chain. 'Argent.'

Gentle heat flashed through her thumbnail as she stepped out onto the white pebbles beneath the rustling willow fronds.

A grey sky hung over the distant trees and wildflower meadows beyond the river and a warm wind fluttered through the black silk hanging over the Mirror of Erised, sending her wedding band and the little vial of phoenix tears swaying back and forth against the willow trunk.

Fleur skirted the edge of the ruined pensieve and swept the silk back.

Katie beamed up with bright wide green eyes, babbling at two fistfuls of meringue, her lips and cheeks smeared with white crumbs.

Fleur's heart melted. 'You will be able to come and make a huge mess eating cake with your maman soon.' She dug her nails into her palms, ignoring the soft sting of pain. 'Come back to us soon, little chick. Your papa is fretting. And he must not work out what I did.' She took a deep shaky breath and mustered a smile as Katie stared up at her with a small frown. 'As long as he does not remember, it will all be fine. You have to be reborn soon, so we can finally enjoy our sunset together.'

Katie dropped her small nests of meringue and held up her arms, her lower lip quivering as she grabbed for Fleur.

'Je sais, mon poussin,' Fleur whispered. 'Your maman is waiting for you. And your papa. You will go scampering straight after your papa again, so I will have to hold onto both of you.' She swept the silk back over the mirror as Katie's green eyes flashed black. 'Je suis désolée, little chick.'

You must have felt me come back, mon Amour. If you were going to come, you would have come.

She stepped back toward the pensieve counting her steps around from where the willow roots coiled toward its edge and jabbed her wand at the pebbles. 'Accio.'

The white stones shifted and the little glass vial full of swirling silver mist rose out, floating up into her hand. Fleur closed her fingers around it, melting it away with flickering blue flames and vanishing the drops with a flick of her wand; Harry's memories dissipated like smoke into the wind.

What else? She pressed her thumb over the runes around the upper rim of the pensieve, melting the silver and smearing the runes away.

Now there is nothing left. No trace.

Fleur apparated into the kitchen, warmth flashing through her thumb. She fished a hydrangea bloom-decorated mug from the cupboard and swished her wand at the kettle, humming to herself as steam curled from its spout and drifted towards the door to the lounge.

Maman and papa died in this room. Fleur ran her fingers over the wooden table. Behind this.

A soft snap echoed through the kitchen.

'Mon Rêve,' Harry breathed. 'You're back.'

She turned.

A hungry little gleam hovered in his green eyes, faint but wild and mad, smouldering like dying embers. He shifted his weight back and forth between his feet, tapping his fingers on his thigh in a frenetic staccato.

Fretting.

'I did not disappear,' Fleur murmured, reaching out and taking his hand. 'See? Not gone.'

A shudder rippled through him. 'Never really gone. Just… missing.'

She pressed Harry's hand to her cheek, kissing his palm. 'I saw your strange trio of sisters today.'

The little glint in his eyes faded and he released a soft sigh, pulling Fleur close into his warm embrace. 'You smell like cherries again.'

A sharp little pain twisted in her heart. 'It reminds me of Gabby.' The raw ache throbbed as she brushed her fingertips against the wisteria earring; its heat seeped through her, bubbling in her bones. 'Your sisters miss you; I told them you were alive. Isobel wanted to go find you, but Grindelwald's forces press against the wards over France from all sides.'

'Thank you,' Harry murmured. 'I hope they don't miss me too much.' His brow creased. 'Or that they end up fighting against Grindelwald by themselves…'

Fleur smothered a stab of heat.

He smiled and pressed a soft kiss to the tip of her nose, his breath tickling her cheek. 'I will not run off to fight Grindelwald with them, mon Amour.'

Her lower lip crept into a pout and she turned her nose up at him. 'Bon. You promised to never not come back again.'

'I came back. Every time.' Harry's arms tightened around her waist and his smile faded, shrouded by faint shadows. 'You will be careful? If you're maintaining the wards, you are their first target.' His breath caught, a wild mad spark rising in his green eyes. 'Do you promise? Tu me le promets, mon Rêve?'

'Je te le promets,' Fleur whispered. 'I think only the Duforts and Desrosiers know my role in maintaining the wards. Everyone else is dead now.'

Harry's jaw clenched and he pulled her tight against his chest.

'I am right here,' she murmured, cupping his face in her hands. 'I will not disappear.'

He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep shaky breath. 'I want — I need—'

Fleur drew him into a soft kiss. 'Je sais.' She stroked his cheek. 'You are still a little scrambled, non, mon Cœur?'

'I don't feel scrambled,' Harry whispered. 'Or distant. Not like before. When you're gone I can't breathe. It hurts.'

But you do not remember despairing. You don't remember giving up. You love me.

'It will pass,' Fleur promised. 'When you need me, I am here.' A small smirk crept onto her lips. 'I have more than a few of those little fantasies left for us…'

The corner of his mouth twitched. 'Is Grindelwald winning like Liliana feared?'

'Stalemate for now,' Fleur said. 'There is constant pressure from Marie Renner and Grindelwald's non-human allies on Tsarina Bugrov and her allies in Polans, and Suleiman has retreated to Constantinople with all his janissaries. Ansgar Fürstenburg attacks the wards in eastern France where your sisters are with little success. British and American volunteers hold the Pyrenees against De Mendoza and Grindelwald has been imposing his authority over Spain.' She caught his eye. 'Ginevra Weasley is in the Netherlands with her aurors preventing Karsten Metternich's breaking through there.'

'Grindelwald mustn't win,' Harry said. 'We can't risk weakening his enemies or he'll plunge the whole world into war and our baby bird will have to grow up in it.' His gaze turned distant. 'But the others…'

'I will poke around when I go to reinforce the wards in Belgium,' Fleur replied. 'After that—' liquid heat simmered in her bones and the tufts of white poked from her skin '—we stop them smiling ever again.'

'And then…?' Harry asked.

'Our little angel will wake up and come back to us.' Fleur's hand slipped to the rose tattoo on her hip. 'And we keep our promise to Gabby. No more hurting.'

AN: Yeah, this same old self-promo, profile bit again. The other stories are more light and fun, I promise (well, maybe not Emily, that's dark but tasty xD)