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Blimey.
That was all Ron could manage. He'd just gone and sat through the first task, expecting it to be something fun and wicked, but Merlin, had that been far from the case. Suddenly, Charlie's cautionary tales regarding all the dragons he worked with made sense. They were dangerous, behemoth-sized beasts that seemed right quick to get to violence.
They'd singed Fleur, hit Krum with some debris, and done much the same of both to Cedric. Harry had gotten away practically unscathed save for a few scratches from when he'd hit the ground. Such was the reason he won first like Ron knew his mate would do regardless of what he and the other champions would face… but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't been horrified the whole while; they were dragons.
That was why when the champions were released back to the public, the tent exclusion finished with, the first thing he'd gone and done was find his mate. Harry's scratches had already been seen to, and even the holes in his clothing had been fixed; strangely, Fleur wasn't by his side. He reckoned she was with her family, since they were apparently here.
Either way, Ron and Hermione had made their way to their friend, and Ron was the first to speak betwixt the three.
"Harry!" he'd belted out, wrapping his arms around his friend in as tight a hug his mum would give. He separated after a few seconds, and Hermione darted in then. Ron continued speaking as the other two embraced. "Gave me a right big scare, seeing you and the dragons. I mean, I really thought there was a chance I'd lose you, my best mate. Reckon there's not a chance you put your name in the goblet. Not for some bit of glory, and we certainly get enough danger already, don't we?"
Hermione looked about ready to say something, but Harry did so first, clasping one of Ron's hands with one of his own. "That we do," the other boy agreed readily.
Ron grinned then, pleased that Harry was understanding. He'd been mature this year, regarding his disbelief. He'd been mad at the thought of Harry having entered his name without saying so much as a word… but now, now he believed his mate completely. Harry hadn't entered of his own volition. Somebody wanted harm to come to him. Reckoned that meant Voldemort didn't think he was up for the task.
They'd countered him twice thus far, right?
"Mate?" Ron's words caught Harry's attention, and he spoke again, quiet so as to avoid anybody listening in. "Hope you know I really am sorry, mate — if Charlie had told me there'd be dragons here, I'd have told you no matter how much of a tosser I was being. You know that, yeah?"
Harry nodded, "I trust you. Always have, ever since first year down during that game of Chess. You're good mate. I mean, you're here now, aren't you?"
Ron was. That seemed to set him at ease, and…
Hermione spoke up then, huffing as she looked between the two. "Now that you're both totally back to normal, Harry, why don't we discuss your 'plan' as you'd called it — out-flying a Dragon!"
She seemed ready to rip into Harry, but Ron made a noise that drew her attention, and then he spoke. "If anybody could, it'd be Harry. Who else cou—"
Hermione glared, and then… she hugged Harry. It was right then, and whilst her face was still riddled with anxiety that she seemed, finally, to be calming down; she'd been just as worried as Ron.
That little miniature celebration, however, was interrupted by Fleur as soon as the older girl was able to rip herself away from her family. Gabrielle stayed with them, of course, but Fleur had a person to seek out; her Harry. As she pushed through the large crowd that was still gathered, many of whom were attempting to speak to her as she continued on, she couldn't help but let her mind wander. Whatever words were said to her were always stammered or unintelligible anyhow, thus, she'd not miss anything as she delved into the depths of her mind.
As for that wandering mind of hers, like always whensoever it had time to go and do some errant thinking, it sought out Harry. It'd been doing so since he'd saved her and Gabrielle, but in recent times, it'd been more predominant, more pressing. Enough so for Fleur to believe the Veela aspect of herself was drawn to him more than she'd initially thought.
The performance he gave for the crowd hadn't helped the matter, or her sanity, either. Hard as it was to watch for a myriad of reasons, she'd been unable to tear her eyes away from his actions. As soon as she'd noticed which Dragon Harry had received, her mind had been frenzied, and wished as she might to intercede or assist him in his task, there was little and less she could do. Thus, she'd been a captive audience as he summoned forth his broom and masterfully out flew the dragon.
When first she'd seen him do so, the worry she felt piqued. Dragon's were beasts of the air, and this one started very close to Harry. Enough so that, had he not twisted and turned and used all sorts of buildings and the like to break line of sight, the chance he'd have been burned would've been astronomically high. As it was, the end of his broom had still received hints of fire, the tip singed by flames.
But he'd won. He'd out flew, outsmarted and outlasted the dragon, for the damage it'd done to itself in chasing him had been greater than what most spells could do… and yet, the dragon was still better off than that which Krum had faced. Harry had beat the creature without himself having harmed it, and as Fleur finally reached the space where Harry was, she felt her prior concern pique. There was still a smidge of blood on his clothing, where she'd seen the scratches from debris as the Horntail's tail whipped back and forth.
Fleur's long legs carried her directly to his person, and upon reaching him, she pressed her front to his back, her arms wrapping around his person. His friends, Hermione and the redheaded-boy — Ron she thought — gazed up at her. Harry, meanwhile, seemed to melt back and into her. His heart wasn't racing as she'd thought it might do, instead, there seemed a near complete calmness that encased him.
"Excuse us, yes? We 'ave a zeeng to see to togezzer." Fleur didn't wait for either of the others to say so much as a word before she used her arms encasing Harry to turn his person, the pair seeking out the Champions tent once more; they reached it very quickly.
"Fleur?" He questioned, when the older girl finally raised her hands to rest on his shoulders, whereupon doing so, she turned him around to face her.
Her visage was full of concern, and her hands plucked incessantly at the little stains on his clothing; repaired as his shirt was and fixed as those scratches had been, the blood had stayed… and perhaps a few errant scratches had as well.
Madame Pomfrey had Cedric and Krum to see to as well, after all; she had her apprentices and what have you that she took from upper-years, of course, but she preferred to see to the Champions herself. He'd asked her about that once before, and she said it was something that oft started in first year, with students handing her what she needed whilst learning the effects and the like. It was only Seventh Years — occasionally Sixth as well — that would ever truly touch patients… and even then, the Matron preferred to be present even if she needn't be.
"You 'ave done so good a job," Fleur said to him then, her eyes still roaming his person with nary a pause, even as she complimented him. "Now, eef you would be so kind, I would like to eenspect you, yes?"
Harry blinked. He could make out concern on her face despite the smile she'd fixed him with. "I'm fine," he did as much a twist as he could, her arms unrelenting in their grasp of him. "See? Just a little blood, nothing serious."
Fleur, however, was unrelenting as she poked incessantly at the largest of the bloody spots on his shirt. "I would 'ave proof zat all of you ees well."
"Madame Pomfrey already cleared me — she's the one that fixed the scratches." Harry intercepted one of Fleur's hands with one of his own, peeling her softer digits away from a bloodied spot that seemed to have grown since first he'd seen it. "Really, Fleur. I'm alright."
She tutted. "Eef all ees well, why 'ave two spots gotten larger? You 'ave untreated cuts. Let me see to eet zat zey are treated? Please?" After those words, her visage was one of pleading, her bottom lip pouted out as those blue eyes of hers peered down at his with all the charm he'd ever seen from her.
He swallowed. If not literally, he reckoned he finally understood in some part how others felt when they gazed at Fleur. She was captivating, and when she wished to beg as she was doing now… Merlin, it was next to impossible to deny her. The tricky little minx had to know that too.
"Really," he tried again, weak as it was. "I'm fine."
Fleur's hands began to knead his shoulder, but her eyes remained flicking betwixt the bloodied spot that seemed, slow as it was, to be growing, and Harry's eyes. "I 'ave reason to believe she meesed somezeeng." It'd not escaped her perceptiveness, evidently, and her pleading look hadn't so much as halted for a second.
And so Harry relented. With a sigh, he spoke the words which she wanted to hear. "Fine. You can look me over — I've had worse, you know. Quidditch, Second Year, Fi—"
"Worse ees no excuse to allow eet to 'appen time and time again. Now zat you 'ave me, and Gabrielle, and ze ozzers zat call you friend, zere ees no reason to let yourself be 'urt," Fleur closed the curtain that separated the tent into little spaces for the Champions, and without so much as a second wasted, she raised his shirt up and over his head.
He squirmed under her gaze as soon as she did so, worried about what she might think; he wasn't hugely fit like other blokes, and he was a bit underweight compared to most others as well. And yet, as he looked closer, there wasn't anything judgemental or the like therein as she looked him over. Instead, there was an almost clinical level of care, her hands manoeuvring his person so as to provide the best view possible.
Harry jumped when he felt something press near to where one of the two untreated cuts was. He looked over his shoulder and down so as to see the spot completely, and it was then he saw her wand, the item in question having caused the pressure he felt. Before he could ask her what she was doing, he watched as a red-hued light shined forth, and like that, his wound began to close with nary a sign of pain.
"I didn't know you knew healing spells."
Fleur sat him down upon the nearest chair, rolling up his left pant leg and settling the limb on her thigh. She gave her answer then, as she was looking up at him with a winning smile; she seemed more than pleased to provide care for him, her stubborn pleading all but a thing of the past in such a short time. "When all zere ees to do ees spend time with my leetle Gabby, and she ees so prone to eenjury when playing, you learn 'ow to treat ze leetle scratches and bruises. I am always glad to do ze same for you, 'Arry."
As if to emphasise how good she was at doing such spells, she treated the second wound silently, her wand working as they conversed with one another. Were it not for the line of sight he had on her doing so, he'd not even have felt his flesh stitch itself back together.
Harry quickly gathered up his shirt on account of being fully inspected, her hands no longer running over his person and manoeuvring him so as to seek out any other wounds. She rose then too, watching as he fixed his shirt and rolled back down the raised pant leg.
"Painless, no?" Fleur was pleased, the smile on her face wide and toothy, and beautiful as ever it'd been before. One hand sought out one of his then, the girl desiring the physical contact. "And to zeenk you wanted me not to check you."
"Don't much like spending time getting looked over, usually," he said with a shrug. "But thank you. It's more comfortable now—" he flexed his leg, which had previously had a bit of a sting before whensoever he moved it; now, there was nary a sign of discomfort or pain. "Reckon I should check you now too, yeah? If she missed something with me, she could've done the same with you."
Harry figured he'd turn the tables on her. She'd been unrelenting, and she'd raised a fair point too. Madame Pomfrey was overworked; four Champions, four dragons' worth of injuries… and the desire to see to them all herself. The Mediwitch was like many older Magicals he'd met; stubborn. That wasn't to say Harry didn't love the old witch — she was the one that always saw to him after a Quidditch injury or the like. But the fact remained she was busy managing her apprentices as they readied various potions and saw to those that were terrified of the dragons, or the champions that'd fought again the very aforementioned magical beasts.
He reckoned the lot of them were busy enough for him to get his moment.
"Check me?" Fleur raised a hand to her chest, her cheeks reddening as soon as the words came free of her mouth.
He nodded. Fleur herself hadn't been unscathed either, good as she'd done the dragon had still extracted a bit of blood for her daring, so—
She squawked, the sound startling him from his thought as the heavily blushing Fleur said something quickly, and in French… before dashing off back whence the two had initially entered the tent from. Harry could only watch as she did so, fleeing from the space redder than he'd ever seen her before.
Alone as he was, he snickered to himself after no small moment spent in silent surprise. Fleur could tease and tease until he was as red as Ron could be, but she had zero resistance it seemed, whensoever he too joined in on the teasing. In his mind, he'd expected her to say 'okay' or something else that'd sound hot as could be with that accent of hers — of course she'd have teased him more for it, but he wouldn't have minded, would he?
With a smile on his face as he smoothed down his shirt, he left the tent.
He'd see Fleur again soon enough, and maybe, just maybe, he'd tease her again. How couldn't he with so cute a reaction from her?
As he'd expected, only a day after she'd rushed off whilst stammering, Fleur sought him out. It was whilst he'd been out and about on Hogwarts' grounds, clearing his head and taking in the beauty of the outdoors that she and Gabrielle had 'stumbled' upon him.
"Well eef eet eesn't 'Arry," Gabrielle seemed to be in a good mood as she greeted him for the pair.
Fleur, meanwhile, had fixed him with a smile. It wasn't remotely different to that which was normal. No blush or embarrassment as had been present when last he'd seen her. "Come back weez us? Gabby and I zought to 'ave lunch upon returning 'ome for ze day."
"The day? Not eating in the Great Hall?" Harry fell into step beside the two as they began to head back to the Beauxbatons carriage; it wasn't too far a walk from where they currently found themselves.
"No. Eet ees fun, but rarely, yes? Zere are too many to stare and too few to speak weez," Fleur's hand found his, and when he looked at her, curious if a blush would be present, she met his eyes readily… if with a faint dusting now coming to rest on her cheeks. "You are wondering about yesterday?"
That earned a nod from him. He'd expected awkwardness or what have you, but she was her typical self once more.
"I weel tell you zat I only ran away due to my Veela side. While I was 'urt, eet told me zat I could more easily fall prey to a predator, and so I sought out the safety of my room weezout zought," Fleur prodded him then, once finger poking his chest as her voice turned chastising. "And you, 'Arry. You tried to take advantage of a young and eenocent and pure-'earted maiden like myself." The faux tone of reprimand earned a gaggle of giggles from Fleur herself and Gabrielle on Harry's opposite side.
The younger girl even poked fun at her sister after she finished laughing at her words. "Do you plan on running away een fear on ze night of ze wedding as well? Mama would be angry eef zere were no grandcheeldren weezen a year."
Fleur raised a hand, threatening to tickle the younger Delacour girl, but before that could come to fruition, he scoffed, recapturing the attention of the sisters, and rolled his eyes. "You're the older, more powerful one between us. Reckon I couldn't take advantage of you even if I tried without you blasting me away."
"Blast you away?" Fleur moved that raised hand, now seemingly-offended, to her chest. It made him look there for a second or so, before he quickly returned his gaze to her eyes; it didn't seem to go entirely unnoticed by her, but she didn't seem offended as she continued. "I would 'ave you stay by me for a monz as your punishment. 'Ow else do I get to enjoy ze warmz of anozzer?"
He nodded Gabrielle-ward, but this time, it was Fleur's turn to scoff. "My Gabby ees too small for me to steal ze warmz from. You are taller and beeger, and you 'ave ze warmz to spare, I know."
Fleur then switched the topic to that which they'd be studying today; general charms work. She'd go and help him with healing magic later too, since he'd shown interest therein after she'd treated the few little wounds he'd not had treated by Madame Pomfrey.
But as they walked hand in hand in hand, whilst her mouth put out the words which she wanted to say, her mind did something else entirely. It thought back to his comment of her being the older of the two… but it didn't go to a place Fleur was happy with. No, her mind rationalised how, in a decades time, the few year gap between them wouldn't matter any longer.
She had to squash that down immediately, upset with herself at nought but the prospect; this wasn't the appropriate thing to think, least of all as she led him and Gabby to her room to study.
Fleur had to get a hold of herself.
Sometime later, after the trio had spent a good deal studying, Fleur had the idea of going down to Hogsmeade for the evening. Gabrielle didn't wish to go, the younger girl having said she was tired and would prefer to rest; Fleur allowed her and offered to purchase anything she might desire.
Thus, ten minutes after Fleur had wished to have them depart, they did so. Gabrielle's list was a dozen things long, but even then, Fleur seemed more than happy to go and collect all that her little sister desired — it wasn't like Harry minded any either. It'd give him more time with Fleur… so there was a chance he'd get to speak with her again regarding the Veela instincts she'd mentioned.
He still wasn't certain if she was pulling his leg or if she'd been serious.
Fleur grasped his hand then, hers pulling him from her room, which locked thereafter, and down the hall that he reckoned he could perfectly paint on account of how oft he'd seen the place. They were the recipients of many a stare from her housemates, but none so much as said a word as she led them out of the Beauxbatons carriage.
The two continued quickly then, a carriage meant for the usage of Beauxbatons students quickly picking them up with many left behind as spares; it seemed the French students were more content to take the walk than the carriage ride down. As for Fleur, she was more than happy to stay in the carriage with him, the pair seated together on one side with her head resting against his own… after she'd pulled him close enough for his to rest upon her shoulder.
He'd tried to bring something up, but she shushed him. With her eyes closed and that little pleased sort of look about her as the carriage bumped and jostled them around, it almost looked as if she were resting. He wasn't sure how that was possible, but he did have to admit; Fleur's comfortable, very comfortable.
Fleur only seemed completely awake again once the pair took their leave from the carriage, but before Harry could so much as manage a word, the pair bumped into a person who'd only just left one of the pubs. A redheaded man that looked very familiar to Harry.
"Charlie?" Harry asked; if it wasn't, the man was a dead ringer for the Weasley brother. There was another right behind the familiar-looking man too.
The man in question, who was still righting himself after having bumped into Harry — and nearly to Fleur too, which would've been quite catastrophic — looked down at the younger man. Recognition filled his eyes in an instant, and then a smile came to his face. "Harry! You're looking well, mate. Life treating you better?" his face fell as soon as the question left his mouth, a look of extreme guilt replacing the joy he'd just felt. "I wanted to tell you too, mum and dad would have my hide if I didn't, but I couldn't get to you in time. The dragons, well, I'd come here with them but the Horntail was right mad, burnt a few of the other workers — friends of mine, they were. Merlin, I wish I could've told you…"
Harry raised a hand when the man trailed off, lest he ramble again, but that didn't seem to do very much at all. No, when Charlie looked at him then, Harry noticed his proximity to Fleur had rendered him stupid as it seemed to do to all others, such was the reason his voice had gone softer and softer, until nothing more was said. Charlie's eyes were glassy and unfocused as they peered in Fleur's direction.
The other man cleared his throat and pulled Charlie back; it was Bill. "Sorry," he apologised with a nod at his brother. "Your lovely friend seems to have struck Charlie dumb — real good to see you healthy and here, Harry. We were right worried when we heard what you'd be facing. Tried to tell you too, yeah? Just couldn't get word to you in time."
Harry blinked at the flurry of words, surprised for more than one reason, and not least which seemed to be Bill was somehow… unaffected? Well, that was strange, wasn't it? Nobody else save for Professors had seemed immune to Fleur's allure, and even then, Harry wasn't sure immune was the right word to use. It was more like they dealt with or tolerated the presence of it, like a drunk person forcing themselves to walk up a flight of stairs or pop through the Floo.
Resistance, maybe.
Still, after a few seconds' shock, he spoke. He had to, lest the other man tear himself up over nothing. "All good, Bill, really mate. Fleur and I are alright, the other champions aren't all that worse off either. The Horntail definitely was mean too, but luckily, all it took was outflying him to avoid anything too serious," Harry stepped away from Fleur, their hands, connected as they were, raising betwixt them as she refused to let go. "And what about you? Everything been well? I remember your mum being worried as usual the last time I saw her."
At first, a look of relief washed over Bill's face — Charlie, meanwhile, was still as out of it as just about all other people seemed to be in the presence of Fleur — and then, at the mention of Molly's near-constant worry for her children, he laughed. Maybe it was more of a chuckle, but all the same, he seemed unaffected by Fleur's presence, and much like how Harry remembered him… if only with a bit of stress still evident in his posture. That or pain from working with the myriad of dragons that he did. Charlie had seemed in good health too, for what little time he had wherein he was sentient. There wasn't much, given Fleur's presence.
"I've been good as can be. Dragons, well, you probably know this already, but they're beautiful beasts. Dangerous as some can be, many of the others are almost friendly, if you'd believe it," Bill nodded to Fleur then, tightening his hold on Charlie as he went so far as to extend a hand to the witch he'd just met. "Bill Weasley—" he nodded Charlie's way. "—My younger brother Charlie. Pleasure to meet you…?"
Fleur curtsied, but kept her hands by her sides, intent on avoiding contact with him for all the obvious reasons. "Fleur Delacour. I would 'ave accepted ze 'andshake eef I could, but I cannot. Eef you touch me, you turn to ice — but zank you, a gentleman ees always appreciated."
Sensing Bill's confusion, Harry piped up; he reckoned it was necessary. "She's a Veela with a bit of… well, ice," Harry wasn't sure how much Bill or Charlie — not that Charlie's mind mattered much right now — knew about Veela, but he reckoned the other bloke was closer to Hermione than Ron when it came to general knowledge. "So far, I'm the only one she can touch."
Bill snorted and yanked on Charlie's sleeve again as the other man made to take a stumbling step towards Fleur. "Always having something going on, aren't you?" he patted Harry on the shoulder and righted his robes from when he'd bumped into him. "Take care of yourself, yeah, Harry? Can't always be worrying about my two youngest brothers."
Before he could go about making his leave from the two, Fleur stopped him by raising a hand so as to catch his attention. When he gave it to her, she smiled as beautifully as ever, and spoke. "You are not affected, no? Ze allure, eet does not a zeeng to you."
"Doesn't seem like it does," Bill shrugged before pausing for a few seconds whilst looking at her, almost as if he was only just now expecting the allure to hit. When the silence dragged on thereafter for three or so seconds, he shook his head. "Nah. Everything seems normal enough to me. Reckon I don't feel the slightest how he does."
Charlie, who was the recipient of Bill's nod, goofily smiled as if to emphasise his brother's point on queue.
Fleur blinked at him and furrowed her brow, the look of curiosity something Harry found pretty. "Can I ask what type of people you are attracted to? Eet ees rare, you must understand, to meet anozzer zat is not bozzered by ze allure."
Bill didn't seem offended by her question, and Fleur had asked it rather nicely too. "I don't really worry about people, you know? I've been focused on the dragons, so I guess finding a partner hasn't really ever been a priority for me. Reckon my mum and dad have enough other children that want families more than I do."
That was true. Harry did think Ron, Fred, George, and probably even Percy would all go and seek out families of their own, albeit all for different reasons. Percy's would be most business-like. Ron's would be the most… random.
"Ah, I see, zank you," Fleur curtsied again, a playful smile on her face that Bill returned readily; he gave Harry a dip of the head afterwards, and sans anymore words, he turned on the heels of his feet, pulled on Charlie's sleeve and went off in the opposite direction, down one of Hogsmeade's side paths.
Fleur and Harry looked after him, with the latter confused whilst the former seemed to have a look of understanding on her face. Once he was far enough away and the pair had resumed their walk — that being by Fleur tugging on Harry's hand to get him to move again — Fleur spoke to him before he could voice his confusion.
"Eet ees rare to meet one such as 'e as well. Few as zey are, some are not attracted to anyone. Eet ees nice for Veela to meet such people — eet ees zey zat are nicest to us," Fleur's fingers fiddled with his own as she turned them down another sidepath, one that seemed to be leading them dangerously close to a place called.
La Fudgerie. It was an all things chocolate type of shop, and new to boot. Harry reckoned it'd come with the French contingent based on the name and Fleur's knowledge of its spot.
"Chocolate?"
Fleur paused in her tracks and looked down at him. "Chocolate?" she tutted at him. "Eet ees no regular chocolate. Eet ees ze best. Come, I will show you."
Harry was right panicked; he didn't have a date to the Yule Ball, and nobody's asked him yet. Fleur was in much the same boat, only sans panic. Others had 'tried' to speak to her as well, likely regarding the Yule Ball too, only nobody had managed to formulate words and she wasn't about to sit there and wait for them to manage just that.
No, Fleur had been more interested, as was oft the case, in preparing her room for another round of studying with Harry. He'd soon be over to meet her after he finished lunch with his friends, and once he arrived, the pair would dig into their general spell-searching. Maybe Fleur would bring it up, the Yule Ball… but the thought oft made her cheeks colour, and then she'd grow annoyed with herself.
That internal dispute had been bothering her something fierce since it'd been noticed. It was like she was at war with herself, her Veela instincts trying their best — and failing — to overcome her person, but sometimes, it was closer than she'd have liked it to be.
Harry knocked on the door then, the time having flown by for the pair. His doing so startled Fleur from her errant thinking and saw her flick her wrist with her wand therein; the door to her room went ajar then, and Harry pushed in. Upon seeing one another, the two had an almost reflexive smile. At least until Harry looked away and coughed into the crook of his elbow.
He didn't see Fleur's smile grow larger upon his doing so.
"Fleur?"
She stepped closer, "Hmmm?" her hands found his shoulders, turning his person around and pulling his back to her front. She enjoyed his warmth… and maybe she was hoping he'd ask her to the Yule Ball. It was something she'd not do given their age difference, but something she wasn't at all against should he pose the question.
Harry, for his part, enjoyed both the softness of Fleur and her ability to give massages. Her hands worked his shoulders so well, he reckoned he'd be able to fall asleep whilst standing if she did it for long enough. If her hands wove into his hair too, Merlin…
He shook his head then, snapping out of the involuntary spell she'd put him under. Sometimes, in moments such as the current, he wondered if her allure did affect him. When he realised he could still think and speak, he reckoned it didn't, but Merlin, her beauty was just mystifying.
"You 'ad somezeeng to ask me, no?" Fleur sounded amused, her warm voice wrapping around him as a blanket might.
He swallowed as he tilted his head, his eyes finding hers. "I don't know how to dance," he all but blurted out. "I mean… I saw what Professor McGonagall wanted us to do, but I think I'd w—"
Fleur tutted, cutting him off as she all but jumped at the chance as it was given to her. "We weel 'ave to fix zat zen, no? I weel teach you 'ow to dance — no man of mine will be unable to do so."
He blinked at her upon the final few words being said. 'No man of hers', she'd claimed. For her part, Fleur seemed without embarrassment, at least externally. Internally, however, she wasn't remotely sure where that possessiveness came from. It'd not even been so much as a thought in her mind as the words came free of her.
Harry didn't pursue it though. He was far too nervous to ask her to the Yule Ball, let alone tease her after such words. Merlin, his mind, teenaged-bloke as it was already had a myriad of thoughts racing through it. Most of them of the sort that saw him looking away from Fleur as he suddenly felt even warmer than before.
"You weel join me, no?"
"Yeah," Harry cleared his throat, and spoke more slowly after his almost instant response upon her prompting. "Yeah, it'd be cool to learn from you. I've seen how you and Gabrielle walk, so if it's anything like that, I'll be one of the best blokes at Hogwarts."
Fleur raised a brow, her eyes peering into his now containing a certain mischief. "You 'ave been watching 'ow me and my leetle seester walk?"
Harry sputtered something unintelligible before looking away altogether from the giggling Fleur; unsurprisingly, those giggles, mischievous as they were, sounded just as angelic as her laughter.
"Eet ees settled zen. But first I must know — 'ave you got your partner for ze Ball?" Fleur wasn't overly serious-seeming as she asked as much, at least, she didn't think so.
As for Harry, he was completely blind when it came to reading witches, and so he answered honestly. "No," he shook his head. "Nobody's asked me and I've not asked anybody. What about you? I'd think a lot of people would try."
Fleur's answer didn't surprise him. "I believe many 'ave wanted to ask me, but all zey do ees stutter and run as far as zey can from me. No matter who zey are, weezard or weetch, zough ze weetches are quite a beet less common, zey fail to speak. Zey are as most." Fleur fixed him with a stare for a few seconds, clearly pondering something… until she smiled again, her hands finally resuming their work upon his shoulders. "All ees well. Eef I 'ave to go weez my Gabby, zat works, no? She ees too adorable to 'ave seet 'ere and do not a zeeng."
Harry supposed that was better for her and anybody else would be. "What about 'Mione? You and her got along well enough, yeah?"
At his suggestion, Fleur raised a brow. "And 'ave Gabby stay 'ere on 'er own — zat ees, unless you would 'ave my leetle seester?"
Quite quickly, he shook his head from side to side. He had nothing against Gabrielle, quite the opposite really. She was just as pretty as her sister, only a touch more reserved when dealing with others; with Fleur, that wasn't at all the case. No, she'd tease her older sister relentlessly. It could be her more limited English skills, he supposed, given Fleur's English definitely seemed better. That wasn't surprising given the age difference between the two.
"Zen why don't you go weez 'Ermione?" Fleur's hands finally fell from him, to her hips, her gaze sans teasing for a change. "She ees your friend, no? I would 'ave no doubt zat she would be 'appy to go togezzer weez you. You 'ave not asked her?"
Harry shook his head, and there wasn't anything more that he said aloud. He was too deep in thought. Hermione wasn't a bad idea, but neither was Fleur or Gabrielle… though, he reckoned he was too shy to ask any of them, even 'Mione. Witches were right and proper intimidating, they were. Especially when you had to go and ask them to be your date to something as formal as the Yule Ball.
He was baffled, and even as Fleur grasped his hand and made him rise to his feet, prepared to teach him how to dance, he was deep in thought.
Who should he ask?