THE HIGH PRICE

by peverell.magic

The ash began to bury his legs, enveloping him in its soft, warm embrace. Harry wrapped his arms around his knees and buried his face in them, allowing the world to drift into the distance.

40. CHAPTER 40: LOST BENEATH THE RAIN

CHAPTER 40: LOST BENEATH THE RAIN

The final remnants of willow tree leaves gently detached from their branches, casting a graceful descent across the river's expanse, where they found their resting place amidst the lush, overgrown grass. The autumn sun, now a waning presence in the sky, painted sporadic patterns of feeble warmth on Fleur's upturned face. With a contented sigh, she nestled her head into the cradle of Harry's lap and allowed her eyes to slip shut, absorbing the fading caress of the sun's feeble rays. His arm gently enveloped her, fingers tenderly weaving through the strands of her hair.

A soft smile graced Fleur's lips, as it always did in these moments of serenity. However, the transient warmth that had embraced her began to recede. A solitary raindrop landed upon her cheek, its cool touch tracing a path down to her jaw. Fleur's eyes fluttered open, and her gaze met dark, blue-grey clouds stealthily overtaking the once-inviting sun.

Harry, ever attentive, brushed the raindrop from her cheek with the tip of his finger and pressed a tender kiss upon her temple. 'We ought to make our way back to the chateau. It appears rain is imminent.'

With a sigh, Fleur disentangled herself from his embrace. 'Gabby is doubtless lying in wait for us…'

A soft chuckle escaped Harry's lips. 'Will you be whisking me away through Apparition, or must I trudge back through the rain?'

Fleur's response carried a hint of playful exasperation. 'If my parents were present, you'd be insisting on walking, I'm sure.'

He acknowledged with a subtle smile. 'I suppose it's simpler for you. There is no one else in my proximity that should concern you.'

A glint of uncertainty flickered in the emerald depths of Harry's eyes as he reached for his glasses. 'There's no one else who holds a place close to my heart.'

Just Katie Bell. Guilt lanced through Fleur's stomach. But he's right. Maman and Papa are being deliberately difficult. I've charred enough copies of the Daily Prophet to keep the entire chateau warm for a month.

'I harbor no ill will toward your family,' Harry murmured. 'I understand their stance.'

Fleur leaned comfortably against his shoulder, a smile gracing her lips. 'You do get along quite well with Gabby, though. Although, you did entice her with Clafoutis, so I'm not entirely sure that counts.'

Harry defended himself with a chuckle. 'It wasn't a bribe, it was more of a mutual arrangement. I offered her Clafoutis in exchange for a ceasefire on her romantic prodding.'

Fleur observed as the first raindrops peppered her palm. 'Well, it's been effective thus far. Although, to be honest, you've only spent about five minutes with her since we ran out of Clafoutis.'

The rain began to fall in a rapid staccato, its pattering masking the river's gentle murmur.

Fleur took Harry's hand and Apparated them both back into the entrance hall of the chateau, surrounded by a collection of Gabby's shoes. The soft snap of their arrival resonated through the chateau.

Gabby bounded down the stairs, holding a stack of magazines and a newspaper. 'Did you two have your romantic kiss in the rain?'

Harry sighed, shaking his head. 'No...'

Gabby's lower lip jutted out in a pout. 'You're supposed to kiss Fleur in the rain; it's practically your raison d'être.'

Fleur consoled Harry with a gentle pat on the shoulder. 'The arrangement lasted much longer than I initially anticipated.'

Harry grumbled under his breath. 'Five minutes isn't exactly an eternity, you know.'

"Are you planning to venture outside for that romantic kiss?" Gabby descended the final few steps, mischief twinkling in her eyes. "Can I join instead of Fleur?"

Fleur shot a stern glare at Gabby. "I will hex you."

Gabby playfully stuck her tongue out. "I'm so bored, there's nothing to do except read, and I've been reading all morning. I even went through that silly English paper." She waved the stack of magazines in the air.

Harry furrowed his brow. "Not the most engaging read, I imagine."

"I've read it," Fleur chimed in. "Surprisingly, there's nothing about you, for once."

Gabby contributed with a shrug, "Just a lengthy article about an Azkaban escape."

Harry extended his hand. "May I?"

Gabby retrieved the Daily Prophet from the magazine pile and left the rest on the stairs. "Keep it if you want. It's mostly rubbish."

Harry skimmed the front page with a cool, scrutinizing gaze, then flipped through a few pages, scanning columns of text. "What utter nonsense."

Fleur leaned in, craning her neck to see. "Is any of it true?"

"Some of it," Harry replied. He took a deep breath and folded the paper. "I have no doubt that these prisoners escaped, but it wasn't Sirius Black who aided them."

Gabby interjected, "I thought Black was a Death Eater too?"

"He wasn't." Harry neatly folded the paper and handed it back to Gabby. "Fleur, would you care to assist me in practicing hex deflection?"

Fleur's curiosity was piqued. 'He's changed his mind about dueling practice. About time.'

"Of course, mon Cœur," Fleur responded, tossing her hair back over her shoulder and indicating the direction to the cellar.

Gabby closed her eyes, and bright blue flames danced on her palms, reducing the paper to ashes. "Can I join in?"

Harry considered it. "Only if Fleur agrees, and you promise not to ask any more questions about kissing in the rain."

Gabby turned to Fleur, donning her best pout and wide-eyed look. "Please, Fleur?"

Fleur couldn't resist her little sister's charm. "You can help, little chick. We're going to be hexing Harry until he learns to block and deflect spells."

Gabby's grin widened. "Sounds like fun."

A faint hissing sound emanated from the kitchen. "My hot chocolate!" Gabby dashed off.

Fleur leaned in closer to Harry, her voice a soft, teasing whisper. "No promises for you, Harry. You underestimate Gabby's deviousness."

Harry chuckled. "I suppose I can try more bribery."

Fleur rolled her eyes playfully. "Don't. If you keep buying her sweets, she might actually try to steal you for herself. I'm not one for sharing."

Amusement gleamed in Harry's green eyes. "No, you really aren't, are you? But it's not going to happen. I'm not sure I can even afford to buy sweets just for you. You consume sugar like a basilisk consumes schoolchildren."

Fleur's heart fluttered at his words. "Come on, mon Cœur." She gave him a gentle push towards the basement and took his hand. "You can tell me about Sirius Black on the way while Gabby is distracted."

Harry allowed her to lead him away, laughing softly.

Halfway down the stairs, she poked him in the stomach. "Well?"

Harry sighed, ready to share. "Sirius is my godfather. None of what they say about him is true. He never betrayed my parents, and he certainly didn't aid anyone in escaping from Azkaban."

Fleur pursed her lips. "So what really happened?"

Harry arched an eyebrow at her. "Voldemort broke them out…"

"I meant at Godric's Hollow, idiot."

Harry chuckled. "Ah, that makes more sense." The humor on his face faded. "Sirius was supposed to be the secret keeper for the Fidelius Charm, but it was decided that he was too conspicuous, so they switched to Peter Pettigrew at the last moment. The rat was the traitor. He faked his death, and Sirius ended up in Azkaban."

Fleur's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and determination. "He's still alive? He'd better hope we never get our hands on him."

The corner of Harry's mouth twitched. "He's dead."

Fleur found herself scrutinizing Harry's expression, a faint suspicion creeping into her thoughts. Did you do it, mon Cœur? She tried to picture him over a lifeless body, wand outstretched. The image formed with disconcerting ease, his cold green eyes and dark wand hovering above the shadow of a corpse. He could have done it, she considered. Her nose turned up dismissively. Pettigrew deserved it.

The patter of Gabby's footsteps interrupted her reverie.

I will ask him, Fleur decided, burying a small twist of fear. As long as he tells me the truth, I'll be fine. Nobody cares what happens to one murderer, but he had better trust me as much as I trust him.

She tugged Harry toward the room at the far end of the basement. "Ready?"

Gabby rushed through the door and set her hot chocolate down on the floor by the wall, causing white foam and chocolate to dribble down the sides of the mug. "Did I miss anything?"

Fleur quickly vanished the mess with a wave of her wand. "We haven't even started. I was just about to explain to Harry what he's trying to do."

Harry chimed in, "I read a bit about it at the start of last year."

"Gabby will be learning about it soon anyway," Fleur reasoned. "Beauxbatons offers dueling as an extracurricular. We might as well begin with the basics for her sake."

Harry teased, "You just want to play the teacher."

A subtle blush tinted Fleur's cheeks. So what if I enjoy explaining things to someone who genuinely wants to learn?

Gabby giggled. "Go on, Professor Fleur."

Fleur playfully tsked. "Quiet, class, or it will be detention."

"I don't think Harry will mind getting detention with his Professor," Gabby snickered.

"Too right," Harry replied, his gaze briefly dipping from Fleur's face, then returning with a hint of desire in his eyes. "Every schoolboy's fantasy is the hot, foreign teacher. It would be a shame to waste the chance…"

Fleur blushed and raised her wand toward the playful pair. Gabby pressed both hands across her mouth to stifle her laughter, while Harry grinned and smoothly drew his wand from his sleeve.

"Deflecting hexes is based on the effect created by two colliding curses," Fleur explained as the warmth slowly faded from her cheeks. "If two spells meet in the air, they can either ricochet off one another or simply cancel each other out. You're trying to achieve a more controlled effect by projecting your magic through your wand to deflect spells away."

"So it's like conjuring a mirror to reflect spells," Gabby proposed.

Fleur playfully jabbed, "Gabby got it first."

Harry muttered, "I already knew that. And even if she did, so what? We're the same age!"

Fleur took a step back. "Then you'll be able to deflect this. Expelliarmus."

A burst of red light shot from her wand. Harry sidestepped, pretending he'd never seen the spell coming. Gabby burst into laughter.

Fleur huffed and playfully turned her nose up at him. "You're a terrible student. Terrible students don't get rewarded by their hot, foreign teacher, mon Cœur."

Harry laughed and raised his wand. "I'll deflect them."

Gabby eyed the slender ebony wand, her fingers curling into the folds of her black dress as she bounced on the balls of her feet.

Tempted to listen to it, Gabby? I wonder what it'd feel like for you.

"Move a bit further away, Gabby. You don't want to be hit by the deflected curse," Fleur cautioned as she aimed a stinging hex at Harry.

Harry yawned and nonchalantly flicked his wand in the direction of the incoming curse.

Fleur sighed. Well, that's going to hurt a bit, mon Cœur. Maybe I should've used something else.

The stinging hex zipped back past Fleur's head and fizzled away against the wall.

Fleur smoothed her hair back down and narrowed her eyes at Harry. "You've done this before," she growled.

"I haven't," Harry protested, raising his palms. "I've only seen it done."

A hint of a pout crept onto Fleur's lips. "Did you intentionally direct it back at me?"

"Maybe..." Laughter danced in his emerald eyes.

Fleur's heart fluttered, and she swallowed a sudden rush of emotion. He's so perfect.

Gabby giggled and retrieved her wand from the cleavage of her dress. "Can I help?"

"Of course, little chick," Fleur replied, glancing at the front of her own dress, causing Gabby to blush. "Just very light stinging hexes, Gabby. I don't want to have to explain to Maman why we accidentally killed Harry in the basement."

Gabby nodded, then her expression brightened. "But... tragic romance?"

"I'm not a fan of sad endings," Fleur replied. "They make for terrible stories. Who'd want to read one of those?"

Harry adjusted his footing, his concentration intensifying as he raised his wand. His sharp, green eyes focused and locked in. Fleur's heart squirmed and wriggled beneath her ribs. An intense desire to press her lips against his surged through her.

Later, mon Cœur. Fire coursed through her veins. And soon, more than just kisses, too. You're mine.

She cast her hex. Harry skillfully deflected it, sending it hissing off to the side. Gabby's hex struck him on the hip.

"Ow," Harry winced, rubbing the affected area under his robes. "Stinging hexes? Really?"

"Not at the same time, Gabby," Fleur gently scolded.

"Sorry." Gabby's wide grin somewhat spoiled her apology. "Sort of."

"You're pushing too much magic into it, Harry," Fleur advised. "You want it to be just enough to redirect the hex, not to try and repel it forcefully."

"Again?" Gabby beamed, raising her wand.

"Does she get to practice this as well?" Harry shot Gabby a pointed look. "I can do better than stinging hexes…"

"Not until she's older," Fleur replied. "Hex him, Gabby."

"We're the same age," Harry muttered.

He adeptly deflected the stinging hexes Gabby hurled at him with less force, almost flicking them away off the tip of his wand. Fleur added a few of her own hexes into the mix, but he continued, even when she allowed him only a brief moment to react.

Suddenly, something crashed near the door.

"Merde," Fleur muttered, twisting around to check the door. She let out a long sigh when she saw that it was closed. "Not a bottle."

Gabby expressed her distress with a small squeak. "My hot chocolate..."

A small, steaming pool of foam and chocolate spread across the floor. Fleur promptly repaired the mug with a wave of her wand and vanished the mess.

"You spilled my hot chocolate. You owe me," Gabby declared, turning her full, pleading look on Harry.

Harry grinned. "It doesn't work for her now either. I can ignore it."

Fleur narrowed her eyes. Liquid heat seemed to pool in her bones, and feathers pricked along her arms and down her spine. I warned you, Gabby.

Gabby shot a nervous glance at Fleur. "I'm not using my allure, I promise."

She'd better not have. Fleur gave Gabby a serious look and felt a wave of relief when Gabby nodded. If you repeatedly use the allure on someone, it can leave a permanent mental association. I don't need Harry stuck with a lingering desire for my little sister. She wrinkled her nose. Urgh, that would be awful.

Harry's eyebrows shot up. "You mean that's natural?"

Gabby's lower lip quivered.

Harry tucked his wand away and sighed. "Alright, I owe you."

"Can I touch your wand?" Gabby extended her hand.

Harry wore a wide grin. "I don't think your sister would approve."

Gabby spluttered, her face turning red. Fleur fought to contain her own flush.

"Revenge is sweet," Harry remarked. "You can. Just don't try to cast anything with it. My friend got burned when he attempted that. It's very closely bonded to me."

Gabby accepted the ebony wand from his hands, holding it delicately between her forefinger and thumb. "It's cold... like I'm gripping an icicle." She frowned. "I don't think it likes me holding it. Do you mind if I listen to it?"

Harry's brow furrowed. "I'm not sure what you mean, Gabby."

"You remember I told you that we can feel magic to a certain extent?" Fleur interjected, waiting for him to nod. "I'm fine with things enchanted to last and powerful or emotive magic, but Gabby's a lot better than me, she–"

"Let me explain, Fleur," Gabby interrupted, pouting. "You always make it sound so strange."

"It is strange, little chick."

"I can get a really good idea of the feelings or intent of magic when I listen to it," she chirped. "Like you would if you studied an enchantment. Fleur only gets a fraction of what I do." Gabby tilted her chin in the air.

"What do you feel from a wand?" Harry inquired.

"Wands hold the echo of any magic cast through them, so if I really focus, I can get a kind of impression of what your magic is like, or at least, your overall intent," Gabby explained, shuffling her feet. "It's quite a personal thing, but you're Fleur's now, and Maman said I can listen to anyone's wand if they're part of the family."

A faint, soft smile appeared on Harry's lips. "Listen away. I'm curious to hear what you feel."

Gabby took his wand in both her hands and pressed it against her chest, scrunching her eyes shut. "It's so alive," she whispered.

That's not how you've described anyone else's. Fleur frowned. She said my magic felt like running her fingertips across warm silk or hot rose petals. Soft, but strong.

"It's like holding my hand in the river in winter. The current's strong, and it's ice-cold. I can almost hear the water whispering." A wide, dazed smile spread across Gabby's face, and she squeezed her eyes shut even tighter. "I'm sure if I could just listen a little harder, I'd be able to hear what it's saying."

Harry gently pried his wand from her grasp. "I think that's enough."

Gabby's brow furrowed, and she jammed her pale, lavender-painted nails into the warmth of her armpits. "But I want to listen to the whispers."

Fleur's voice took on a sterner tone as she warned, "Don't even think about attempting to steal it later. Harry's wand is truly one of a kind; it has a liquid core and a unique bond with him. It barely responded to your magic when you tried to eavesdrop, even after he gave you permission. Please, don't attempt it again."

Harry chimed in with a casual nod, tucking his wand discreetly up his sleeve. "It may not have been excruciatingly painful when Neville tried using it after I granted him permission, but it looked rather uncomfortable."

Gabby sulked, her pout deepening. "I wasn't planning to, I promise."

Fleur shot her a pointed look, prompting a reluctant giggle from Gabby. "Okay, okay, I really won't."

Fleur redirected the conversation back to the purpose of their gathering. "Getting back to why we're actually here," she began, "Harry has the concept down. It won't be a walk in the park to deflect spells at varying speeds and control their trajectories. You'll need to work on your reflexes and speed, but that's the general idea."

"Is the lesson over? Can we go now, Professor Fleur?" Gabby inquired eagerly.

Fleur waved her off with a fond smile. "Off you go, Gabby."

She watched as Gabby grabbed her mug and scampered away, likely to brew another hot chocolate and create twice as much mess.

Harry, his expression thoughtful, sidled up to Fleur. "Your mother runs a potions shop, right?"

Fleur nodded, curiosity glinting in her eyes. "Yes, why do you ask?"

"Did you mean what you said about not caring what I do?" Harry whispered.

A taut knot of emotions tightened in Fleur's stomach. She slipped her arm around Harry and drew him closer. "As long as you're mine," she murmured.

"All yours," Harry reassured her, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. "Always."

Fleur shifted under Harry's arm and nestled her head into the curve of his neck. "Do you trust me? I don't mean with trivial matters or everyday things. I mean with everything."

Harry peered down at her, his eyes reflecting an unusual glint. "Of course. Why do you ask, Fleur?"

Her lips pursed as she continued, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "I want you to confide in me. I want you to want to share everything with me, no matter how difficult or painful. I'm not one to open up easily, but I've laid bare all of me for you. I want to know that you're willing to do the same."

A faint smile graced Harry's lips. "I am. I truly am," he confessed. "I haven't told you everything, I know. Sometimes... I'm still haunted by the fear that I might disappoint you and lose you."

Fleur's unease lessened as she kissed the side of his neck. "You won't lose me. I'll prove it. What happened to Peter Pettigrew?"

Harry tensed, then exhaled deeply. "He died... a gruesome death."

"You killed him," Fleur murmured softly. "I had my suspicions when you mentioned it earlier, and I think I've known, even before that."

A heavy silence hung in the air.

He took a life. He committed murder. Fleur sifted through her emotions, searching for disgust, anger, fear, or even revulsion, but her apprehension only rose when she considered the possibility of Aurors discovering his actions. "As long as you're not caught and taken away from me, it doesn't matter," she concluded. "And if they try, you can always come here."

"I don't care," she declared firmly. "I truly don't. What does Peter Pettigrew mean to me? He deserved it. Just don't get caught. I'd miss you if they threw you into Azkaban."

Harry's voice dropped to a whisper. "I didn't do it solely because of that, Fleur. It was... necessary."

Fleur shook her head, her gaze unwavering. "You're not their hero; you're mine. I don't want a shallow caricature of a hero. I couldn't love someone like that. I want someone like me." Her fingers clenched his robes. "Besides, heroes die."

"I won't die," Harry insisted, his grip on her tightening. "Nothing is going to tear you away from me. Nothing and no one. Perfect wishes rarely come true, so I'm not letting go of mine. I'll pay any price to keep you with me."

A surge of warmth enveloped Fleur's chest, and a lump formed in her throat. Hot tears welled in her eyes. "Now you sound like you've been reading Gabby's favorite books. Have the two of you been sneaking off together?"

He let out a quiet chuckle and gently squeezed her fingers. "I think maybe they were your favorites too, once."

Fleur marveled at the depth of his understanding. "He knows me." She pressed her face into his neck, allowing her tears to trickle down her cheeks. "A long time ago, maybe they were."

Harry leaned back slightly, using his thumb to wipe away her tears. "Fleur?"

"Désolée," she murmured. "It just... means a lot."

"I understand, my princess," Harry replied, bending down to plant a soft kiss on her cheek. "I know."

Fleur's smile returned, and she wiped her tears away with her sleeve. "So why do you need potion ingredients, mon Cœur?"

Harry leaned in and spoke with determination. "I've discovered a way to enhance my reflexes and improve my eyesight, but I require a few rare components that I'm not sure how to obtain."

Curiosity sparked in Fleur's eyes as she asked, "What do you need? Potions like that typically have a short duration."

Harry listed the ingredients, prompting a puzzled frown from Fleur. "Wormwood, bayberry, salamander's blood, and a griffon claw? That's an unusual combination. Is it some sort of strengthening potion? Wormwood and bayberry are usually used to temporarily repair macula and retina damage in individuals with degenerative eye diseases."

Harry shook his head. "Not exactly. I need the effect to be permanent, so I'm delving into magic that most people would find too risky, and the Ministry might frown upon."

Fleur responded with a dismissive wave. "I've already told you; I don't care. And I don't like repeating myself."

Harry's smile grew. "It's a ritual, using blood magic. I have to restore my eyesight, and I'll seize any advantage I can."

Fleur teased, "That sounds rather dark. What would the English papers say about their hero dabbling in magic like that?"

Harry's response was thoughtful. "Right now, they'd probably be thrilled. There's really no such thing as dark or light magic. It's all about the intent with which your power is directed."

Fleur nodded in agreement. "Just like enchanting. Intent-laced magic can either heal or harm." Her expression turned more serious. "Just be careful; magic like this often doesn't meet the caster's expectations. I don't want to lose you because your glasses are lost in a duel. But if fixing your eyesight comes at the cost of losing you for certain..."

Harry assured her, his cheeks tinged with color, "I've been informed that I'm one of the few witches or wizards with the capability to perform magic of this nature. Apparently, it demands a substantial amount of magical power and willpower."

Fleur nodded, then couldn't help but tease him. "So, does this mean you'll finally stop wearing your glasses?"

Harry grinned. "If it works, I won't need them anymore."

"Good," Fleur said as she nestled herself into Harry's arms. "I've always liked your eyes, and those glasses are rather tasteless."

Fleur's mind began to churn with possibilities. "Could we use this kind of magic for enchanting? I've always dreamt of creating something truly spectacular, something beyond my usual projects or what everyday witches and wizards can manage."

Harry's response was a measured one. "The sacrifice has to be proportionate. You don't get something for nothing. It will cost me a significant amount of magic, a lot of blood, and no small amount of pain to restore my eyesight and gain a slight edge. I don't think I'd be willing to pay the price for something as ambitious as you're talking about."

Fleur found herself relaxing in his embrace, the rhythm of his heart synchronizing with hers. "You better not make any mistakes. I'll set fire to you if you do."

Harry grinned down at her. "I won't, I promise."

Fleur made up her mind. "I'll Apparate to Carcassonne before you leave and gather the ingredients for you, but you'll have to reimburse me."

Harry nodded. "It's best if the ingredients are intact. The closer they resemble their original forms, the easier it will be to maintain the intended associations when I weave the spell."

Fleur calculated the cost. "It'll be around six hundred galleons in total. I'm sorry, but griffon claws, especially whole ones, are quite expensive."

Harry's eyes twinkled with mirth. "It's alright. I've got some galleons. You see, I won a rather prestigious tournament not too long ago..."

Fleur leaned back out of his arms and fixed him with a playful scowl. "Only because someone interfered."

He chuckled and didn't seem to mind the accusation.

She couldn't help but pout, waiting for a kiss.

Harry leaned down and kissed her. "You're very cute when you do that," he murmured.

Fleur ran her fingers through his hair and pushed him away, laughing. "I'm always cute. Was there anything else you wanted me to help with? Duelling, rare ingredients for your, um, unconventional rituals? I'm not sure what else I can offer to the budding Dark Lord Potter."

Faint heat coursed through her veins as she thought of the implications, but she suppressed it, keeping her composure. But you can have me the moment you're ready, mon Cœur.

Harry glanced up at the cellar roof. "Do you know of a way to conceal something so that it only reveals itself with a specific phrase?"

Fleur kept her curiosity in check. "What are you trying to conceal? There are various enchantments for that, depending on the object."

Harry's expression darkened. "A map, hand-drawn. Dumbledore is a constant nuisance, always keeping tabs on me and preventing me from learning things vital for my survival. If I manage to remove him from the school, Umbridge will have free rein, and that can't be allowed to continue. She's dreadful."

Fleur considered his request, and her thoughts circled back to their shared secrets. "I think I know just the thing, mon Cœur. I can help you with that."

Fleur nonchalantly shrugged. "I'll show you."

They ascended the stairs, arms entwined, hips brushing against each other with every step. Fleur couldn't help but reflect on how far they had come. The boy who once recoiled from the mere thought of physical contact had evolved, and she felt proud of the progress they had made together.

In the kitchen, Fleur borrowed a section of Gabby's essay, swiped her quill, and poured a bit of ink into the inkpot's lid. "Watch," she instructed. "You enchant the ink with the concealing charms, ensuring it's robust enough to resist revealing charms and any other methods someone might use to unveil it."

Fleur drew a dark circle of ink on the white parchment and pulled out her wand, weaving her intent for it to remain hidden into the magic infused in the ink. The circle vanished from view.

Harry feigned amazement, covering his mouth in an exaggerated display of shock. "Oh my, it's disappeared!"

Fleur was unimpressed. "Do you want me to show you?"

Harry's grin was infectious, but it didn't entirely convince her. "Sorry," he said, his tone still playful.

Fleur sighed and couldn't resist a teasing comment. "That doesn't sound very genuine."

He leaned in close, his voice a soft murmur. "I only tease you because I love you."

Fleur's heart skipped a beat, her emotions swirling in response to his words. He's never said that before. She swallowed the rush of emotion welling up inside her. "I love you too," she whispered back.

Gabby, who had been listening with keen interest, couldn't contain her excitement and let out a squeal.

Fleur hushed her with a gentle reprimand. "Hush, little chick. Not. A. Word."

Gabby beamed, her excitement palpable. "I won't. It'd ruin it."

Top of Form

Fleur leveled a suspicious look at her mischievous little sister. "But I might mention it later. Maman might hear."

Fleur responded with a sly smile. "I will toast to you, Gabby."

Turning her attention back to Harry and the parchment, she continued her explanation. "You can enchant the parchment to reveal its contents when a certain phrase is spoken. If you infuse that enchantment with enough power, it should overcome the concealment charms on the ink."

Harry seemed a bit surprised by the simplicity of the process. "That's it? Really?"

Fleur smirked. "Vraiment. I would suggest adding a few extra protective enchantments to prevent anyone from destroying the parchment or ink, but that's easier than trying to imbue it with magic carrying opposing intentions for various situations. You can save that challenge for when you're as skilled as I am."

Harry, undeterred by her modesty, leaned in and kissed her, his tongue flicking against her upper lip. Fleur shivered in response, closing her eyes and allowing him to pull her closer.

Gabby chimed in, teasing, "Do I get a turn, Harry? Fleur seems to be really enjoying it."

Fleur leaned around Harry to address her younger sister firmly. "Over your charred body, little one."

Harry joined in the banter with a chuckle. "I don't think Fleur is very keen on sharing, and I'm not keen on sharing her either."

Gabby pouted. "So not fair. You would have made such a good boyfriend. If Fleur wasn't preying on younger boys, I might have had you all to myself, you perverted harpy."

Fleur laughed, her amusement evident. "Sorry, Gabby. I promise if I ever get tired of him, you can have him."

Harry chimed in, playing along with the teasing. "Thanks. I feel so loved, like a childhood toy being passed from sister to sister."

However, the lighthearted moment was cut short as a soft chime filled the kitchen, and Harry's demeanor shifted. "I have to go back, Fleur."

Fleur concealed her disappointment, aware that he might not be entirely ready to spend the night with her just yet, given their age difference. "I know," she replied, her fingers gripping her robes as she drew him close for one last kiss. "But one day you will stay, yes?"

He smiled and reassured her. "Yes."

"Soon?" she pressed.

"Soon. I promise," Harry replied before vanishing with a soft snap.

The cold kitchen air filled the space where he had been, leaving Fleur alone. She looked down at the parchment she had created, contemplated tossing it in the bin, then decided to fold it up and tuck it securely through the strap of her bra.

Gabby reclaimed her quill and inkpot, her expression a mix of curiosity and approval. "He's perfect, really. You spend all your time with him now, instead of me, but he's perfect. I've never seen you smile so much in years."

Fleur wrinkled her nose. "Don't tell me that. Tell Maman and Papa."

Gabby sighed and muttered something that would've earned her a stern reprimand if their parents had been around to hear it. "Just don't listen to them, Fleur. They'll realize they're wrong."

Then, mischief danced in her eyes. "Want to enchant Maman's slippers to tickle her feet?"

Fleur couldn't help but laugh. "And get left taking the blame in the end when you deny all knowledge and flutter your eyelashes at Papa? Okay, little chick."

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