A/N Just some fun/friendly missing moments between Harry and Fleur. I kind of wrote on a whim. Follows canon, but two interactions that I think could have happened. Not a romance fic. Sorry :'(

February 25th, 1995

The morning sun filtered through the high windows of the Hogwarts library, casting a warm glow over the towering bookshelves. Harry wandered through the stacks; his mind still preoccupied with the events of the second task the previous day. As he turned a corner, he spotted Fleur Delacour sitting alone at a table, a large textbook open in front of her. She looked up as he approached, a small smile gracing her features.

"Good morning, Harry," she said softly, mindful of Madam Pince lurking nearby.

"Morning, Fleur," Harry replied, taking a seat across from her. "How are you doing? Yesterday was pretty intense."

Fleur sighed, closing her book. "I've been better. I feel like I let myself down. I didn't even finish ze task properly."

Harry shook his head. "You're being too hard on yourself. That task and expectations were insane. I still cannot believe they put people underwater like that. We had no clue they weren't in real danger."

"I know, but I expect more from myself," Fleur said, a hint of frustration in her voice. "I am one of the top students at Beauxbatons. I was specifically chosen to represent us. I should have been better prepared."

"Being brilliant doesn't make you perfect," Harry countered. "You're still human, Fleur. And you're definitely no damsel in distress. I've seen your performance in the first few tasks, you're a worthy contender, unlike me."

Fleur frowned. "Don't say zat, Harry. You have proven yourself more than worthy. Cedric, Viktor, and I all respect you, even if ze circumstances of your selection were unusual."

Harry felt a rush of warmth at her words. "Thanks, Fleur. That means a lot." He tilted his head at her textbook "I've been wondering, how does it work with your Beauxbatons classes while you're here at Hogwarts?"

"We had ze choice to attend our respective years here," Fleur explained, "but many of us chose to continue our Beauxbatons curriculum. Madame Maxime teaches us in the carriage."

"That must be strange, living and learning in the carriage for the whole year," Harry mused.

Fleur nodded, a wistful look crossing her face. "It is. I miss Beauxbatons. the palace, the gardens and fountains, my friends. I wish more of zem could have come, but most would probably 'ate 'ogwarts."

"Why's that?" Harry asked, surprised.

Fleur chuckled. "Beauxbatons is very different. It is more... refined. Elegant. Hogwarts is charming in its own way, but it is very British. Very..." She waved a hand, searching for the word.

"Hogwartsy?" Harry supplied, grinning.

Fleur laughed. "Yes, exactly. Hogwartsy." Her smile softened. "But I am glad to be here. I have learned much."

Harry returned her smile. "I'm glad you're here too. I didn't know much about other magical schools, and certainly didn't realize how different they are."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, the soft rustling of pages and distant footsteps creating a soothing ambiance.

"Harry," Fleur said after a moment, "I want you to know, if you ever need to talk, about ze tournament or anything else, I am 'ere. I know how isolating it can feel, to be in the spotlight like zis."

Harry felt a lump form in his throat. "Thank you, Fleur. That... that means a lot. Really."

Fleur reached across the table and squeezed his hand briefly before withdrawing. "What are friends for?"

Harry smiled, feeling a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the sunlight streaming through the windows. It was nice, he realized, to have someone who understood. Someone who saw him as just Harry, not the Boy Who Lived or the unwilling fourth champion.

"You know," She said, "I never really thanked you properly for saving Gabrielle in the second task. I mean, we now know she was not really in danger, but still..."

Harry waved a hand. "There is no need to thank me, hopefully anyone in my place would do it. And..." He paused, his eyes growing serious.

Harry ducked his head, feeling his cheeks warm. "I couldn't just leave her. We are in this together, right? Not much of a tournament if there is not anyone to compete against?"

Fleur's smile was brilliant. "Right."

They talked for a while longer, swapping stories about their early magical mishaps and favorite classes. Harry found himself laughing more than he had in weeks as Fleur regaled him with tales of her misadventures while in school.

"I was trying to levitate a feather, but I mixed up ze incantation. Instead of floating, it exploded into a thousand tiny pieces. It took ages to clean up, and I had feathers stuck in my hair for days!"

Harry snorted. "Sounds like my first time trying to fly. It involves Malfoy, but long story short, I ended up getting in so much trouble after disobeying Madam Hooch's directions during class. Although, it did result in me being the youngest seeker in a century."

Fleur giggled, then sobered. "Zat is actually quite impressive, Such natural talent at such a young age, without even meaning to..."

Harry shrugged, uncomfortable with the praise. "I don't know about that. Half the time I feel like I'm just winging it, you know? Like I'm not really supposed to be here."

Fleur leaned forward; her blue eyes intense. "To me it seems you are exactly where you are meant to be, Potter. Never doubt zat. You have a strength in you, a goodness and humility zat is rare and precious. Don't let anyone make you feel otherwise."

Harry swallowed hard, meeting her gaze. In that moment, he felt a connection to Fleur that went beyond mere friendship. It was a sense of shared understanding. Here was someone who saw him, really saw him, and believed in him, even though they had just met.

"Fleur, I..."

But before he could find the words, a loud ringing noise sounded, signaling the end of the free period.

Fleur sighed, gathering her books. "That is my cue, I'm afraid. I must get back to the carriage."

Harry made a face. "You'll have a much better time than me in Potions, Madame Maxine appears to be much better than Professor Snape. I didn't think it possible, but Snape's been even worse than usual lately."

Fleur chuckled. "I think you can handle Professor Snape. But thank you for ze warning. I will watch out for him in the halls" She stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

Harry stood too, suddenly reluctant to let her go. "Fleur, wait. I just... I wanted to say thank you. For this. For just being a friend. It... It means more than you know."

Fleur's expression softened. She reached out, resting a hand on his cheek. "you never have to Thank me for being your friend. It is my honor and my pleasure. Never forget zat."

With a final smile, she turned and walked away, her silver hair swaying with each step.

Harry watched her go; a warm feeling blooming in his chest. The tournament, the challenges ahead, all seemed a little less daunting knowing he had Fleur in his corner.

He touched his cheek where her hand had been, a small smile playing on his lips.

This was the start of a strangely timed, but amazing friendship.

July 31st, 1997

When Harry awoke on the morning of his seventeenth birthday. He lay there for a moment, savoring the quiet stillness of the early morning. It was a rare moment of peace in what had been a chaotic and saddening week. Shaking off the melancholy thoughts, Harry reached for his glasses, then paused. He was seventeen now, officially an adult in the wizarding world. With a grin, he summoned his glasses wordlessly, feeling a small thrill as they zoomed into his hand. Magic outside of Hogwarts. It was a heady feeling.

"Happy birthday, mate!" Ron's voice rang out, startling Harry from his thoughts. His red-headed friend was grinning at him from his own bed, holding out a clumsily wrapped package. "Wanted to give you this before Mum sees."

Harry took the present, curiosity piqued. He tore off the wrapping to reveal a book: Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches. He looked up at Ron, eyebrows raised.

Ron shrugged, his ears turning red. "It's dead useful, trust me. Fred and George gave it to me, but I reckon you need it more than I do now."

Harry laughed, setting the book aside. "Thanks, Ron. I think."

The smell of frying bacon and eggs lured them downstairs to the kitchen, where Mrs. Weasley greeted Harry with a warm hug and a "Happy Birthday, dear."

The kitchen was bustling with activity. Monsieur and Apolline Delacour, Fleur's parents, were seated at the table, cups of coffee in hand. They wished Harry a happy birthday, their English heavily accented.

"Seventeen, a big milestone," Monsieur Delacour said, his mustache twitching as he smiled. "You are a man now, 'Arry."

Harry murmured his thanks, feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the attention. It was still a novel feeling, having people celebrate his birthday.

A small pile of presents was waiting for him on the table. Harry picked up the first one, a small, neatly wrapped box.

"That's from me," Mrs. Weasley said, watching him with misty eyes. "It was my brother Fabian's. I thought... I thought you might like to have it."

Inside was a beautiful gold watch. Harry swallowed hard; his throat suddenly tight. "Mrs. Weasley, I... Thank you. It's perfect."

She hugged him again, sniffling slightly. "You're family, Harry. Never forget that."

The rest of the presents were opened in a flurry of torn paper and exclamations of delight. Hermione had given him a new Sneakoscope, Bill and Fleur a handsomely engraved razor, the Delacours a large box of fine French chocolates, and the twins a massive crate of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products.

As the others drifted away to begin preparations for the wedding tomorrow, Harry found himself alone in the kitchen with Fleur. She was sipping a cup of tea, her long silvery hair pulled back in an elegant knot.

"Happy birthday, Harry," she said, smiling at him over the rim of her cup. "Seventeen. It is a special age."

Harry nodded, fiddling with his new watch. "Yeah, it feels... different. Combined with everything that has happened in the last week, it feels like everything is changing."

Fleur set down her cup, her blue eyes sympathetic. "I was so sorry to hear about your owl, 'Arry. She was a beautiful creature."

Harry swallowed, the lump back in his throat. "Thanks. She... she was special."

"It's never easy, losing a beloved pet," Fleur said softly. "They are family, in their own way."

Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Fleur seemed to understand. She reached across the table and squeezed his hand.

"But today is a day for celebration, non? A birthday and a wedding. New beginnings."

Harry looked up, meeting her gaze. "Congratulations, by the way. On the wedding. I'm really happy for you and Bill."

Fleur's smile was radiant. "Thank you, Harry. I am very happy. Bill, he is...different, it's truly magical, straight out of a story."

But then her smile faltered slightly, a shadow passing over her face. "Not everyone is happy for us, of course. They think we are too young, too different. That we are rushing because of the war."

Harry frowned. He knew Mrs. Weasley had been less than enthusiastic about the engagement, and Ginny had made her dislike of Fleur very clear. But he had never understood it. Fleur was kind, brave, fiercely loyal to those she loved. So, what if she was a bit blunt sometimes, or took pride in her appearance? Those seemed like very small things compared to the many strengths she had.

"They're wrong," he said firmly. "Anyone can see how much you and Bill love each other. That's all that matters."

Fleur's smile returned, her eyes shining. "Thank you truly for your kind words. You are a true friend, Harry. I am so glad to have you here, today of all days."

Harry returned the smile, feeling a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the summer heat. "I'm glad to be here too. Wouldn't miss it for the world."

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, sipping their tea as the sounds of the waking household began to rise around them.

"I should go," Fleur said finally, setting down her empty cup. "Much to do before the ceremony."

She stood, smoothing down her dressing gown. But before she left, she leaned down and pressed a kiss to Harry's cheek.

"Happy birthday, Harry," she whispered. "I wish you all the happiness in the world. You deserve it, more than anyone."

And with a final smile, she was gone, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts and the ghost of her kiss on his skin. It was going to be a good day, he decided. A day of new beginnings, of love and laughter and light in the darkness.

And as he sat there, surrounded by the warmth of the Burrow and the love of friends & family, Harry felt the flickers of something absent most of his upbringing.

Hope.