If you'd like early access to upcoming chapters and exclusive stories, check out my .
pa treon .com(slash)lovelab (remove the space)
Enjoy the read!
It turned out, Narcissa's cavalry consisted of her three adopted daughters, all of whom were now attending the European Institute of Magical Studies (EIMS). It had been years since Harry had come face-to-face with Fleur, Daphne, or Gabrielle, the legendary daughters of the Malfoy family. Beautiful witches tended to make Harry tongue-tied, but Narcissa's daughters left him utterly speechless, his brain locking up like a broomstick mid-flight.
Whenever they visited Malfoy Manor, Harry had found excuses to be elsewhere—volunteering for errands, practicing in the garden, or even cleaning the library. It wasn't that he disliked them; quite the opposite. He liked them far too much. Their beauty wasn't just physical; their charm and magnetic presence drew everyone into their orbit. Being around them reminded Harry of all his shortcomings and filled him with such longing it was almost unbearable.
The melodic hum of conversation and the enticing aroma of magical delicacies filled the bustling inn Narcissa had chosen near the campus. Harry followed her and Draco through the crowded space, nerves tightening his chest with every step. The hostess led them to a large table for six, tucked in a cozy corner. As Harry sat down, his stomach twisted with apprehension. How would they react to him now? How would Gabrielle? The youngest sister had always been fiercely opinionated and sharp-tongued, and Harry dreaded her scorn.
He tried to reassure himself that he was different now. He was no longer the scrawny boy they'd once known. At nineteen, he had grown taller and stronger, his once-boyish features maturing. Perhaps they wouldn't even recognize him. After all, he'd managed to speak with Narcissa—a woman whose beauty and grace still left him in awe. If he could hold a conversation with her, surely he could manage with her daughters.
But there was a difference, and Harry knew it. Narcissa, despite her elegance, carried herself with a maternal warmth that guided him through his awkwardness. Her daughters, however, were his peers, and each of them was so far out of his league he felt lightheaded just thinking about it.
Harry eyed the three empty chairs at their table with a sinking sense of dread. Narcissa sat beside him, her sharp gaze softening as she noticed his discomfort. She patted his hand gently and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry, darling," she said, her voice soothing. "We'll figure this out. I'm not leaving until we come up with a plan."
Her words were comforting, and her touch radiated warmth that settled Harry's nerves, if only a little. He swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing a smile. "Thanks, Mrs. Malfoy."
"It's Narcissa," she corrected him with a soft smile. "Mrs. Malfoy is my mother-in-law."
"I heard this place has amazing butterbeer," Draco said as he examined the menu enchanted to float in front of him. "Think they'd serve us firewhisky if we asked?"
Narcissa shot her son a warning look. "Draco, you've been on campus less than four hours, and you're already thinking about firewhisky? Can you at least pretend to behave while I'm here?"
Draco grinned and shrugged. "Come on, Mother. I bet you had firewhisky when you went to school."
Narcissa smirked, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "When I was here, I didn't need to ask for firewhisky."
"That checks out," Harry said before he could stop himself, earning a bright laugh from Narcissa.
She leaned over and kissed him lightly on the temple. "Thank you, darling. I knew I liked you for a reason."
Harry's stomach flipped and soared with wild energy. She was laying on the affection thick, and it was working. If her goal was to soothe his nerves about the housing situation, she was succeeding spectacularly.
Narcissa's enchanted mirror buzzed softly, and she picked it up, her smile growing as she glanced at the message. "Fleur's here."
Harry's stomach plummeted, a sudden queasiness leaving him feeling lightheaded. As Narcissa stood and waved across the bustling inn, Harry sank back into his seat, desperately wishing he could vanish into thin air.
Fleur Delacour was not just his first crush—she was also someone who had unknowingly tormented his younger self with her unattainable beauty. As one of the Triwizard Tournament champions, Fleur had been the epitome of elegance, charm, and sophistication when Harry was an awkward fourteen-year-old. Now, she was twenty-two and a senior at EIMS, and while Harry had grown since then, the gap between them still felt insurmountable.
Back then, Fleur's Veela heritage had seemed like magic beyond magic, amplifying every insecurity Harry had. Even now, at nineteen, he still felt as though nothing had changed.
Harry kept his head down, pretending to examine the glowing menu that hovered in front of him as Fleur approached. Her melodic voice rang out, carrying effortlessly over the din of the inn.
"Draco, I can't believe you're actually starting school here," Fleur said as she moved to hug him. "It makes me feel so old."
Draco stood, returning her hug briefly. "Good to see you, Fleur. Yeah, you're ancient."
"Draco Lucius Malfoy," Narcissa said sharply, though there was no real bite in her tone. "Do not insult your sister."
Narcissa opened her arms to Fleur. "How's my beautiful daughter? Are you ready for your final year?"
Fleur stepped into her embrace, letting out a dramatic sigh. "I'm good, but no, I'm not ready. Please don't make me graduate."
Narcissa laughed lightly, but Harry felt Fleur's attention shift to him. His heart hammered in his chest, beating so loudly he was sure everyone at the table could hear it.
Harry didn't look up, too afraid to meet her gaze. The line between his social awkwardness and outright rudeness blurred as the silence stretched. Realizing he was about to make a terrible impression, Harry forced himself to put down the menu and look at her.
As his eyes met hers for the first time in years, it was as though his mind short-circuited. His thoughts froze, his body locked up, and his heart felt as though it might burst.
The world seemed to shrink to a pinpoint as Harry's eyes met Fleur's. Her captivating beauty rendered him speechless. It was as if time stood still, the air crackling with an electric energy that only intensified the ache in his chest.
Impossibly, she was even more beautiful than he remembered. Fleur's hair was the color of spun silver under a starry sky, shimmering as it caught the light. Like Narcissa's, Fleur's eyes blazed a vivid cobalt blue, and her lithe figure was both elegant and alluring.
Her hair tumbled over her shoulders in glossy waves, framing her flawless features. She wore a fitted black blouse that accentuated her curves and tailored white trousers that highlighted her long, graceful legs. Her golden complexion glowed with a healthy, radiant sheen, and her every movement seemed to embody the effortless poise of a Veela.
Harry gawked at her, utterly dumbstruck. When Fleur smiled at him, his brain short-circuited entirely, leaving him unable to even think.
Fleur extended her hand as though introducing herself for the first time. "Bonjour, I am Fleur. Draco's sister. Are you his new roommate?"
Draco burst into laughter, and Narcissa smiled warmly between Fleur and Harry. She leaned over and whispered something into her daughter's ear. Fleur's jaw dropped, and her wide eyes darted between Harry, Narcissa, and Draco.
"Non," she said, shaking her head in disbelief. "Zis is not possible. It cannot be."
Still frozen, Harry stared at her, as if trying to process her words through the haze of his awe. Fleur turned to Narcissa and brother, her expression sharp with suspicion. "What is zis game? What am I missing?"
Draco smirked and pointed at Harry. "Potter, stand up. Let her see you properly."
Harry had spent years enduring teasing for his small stature and boyish looks. Though he'd grown since then, the attention still made him uncomfortable. Still, he pushed himself to his full height—six foot two—and stood across the table from Fleur.
He managed an awkward smile and waved. "Hey, Fleur. How have you been?"
Her jaw dropped again, her expression unreadable. She placed her wand and enchanted handbag on the table before circling around it to stand directly in front of him. Her sharp gaze roamed over him, taking in every detail.
Harry's smile widened, though his heart pounded furiously in his chest as she scrutinized him.
Fleur stopped before him, her head tilted up to meet his gaze. "Your voice… eet is so deep. But…" She shook her head in disbelief. "How?"
Harry grinned, dimples flashing, and he could swear Fleur's cheeks flushed faintly pink. "I didn't really start growing until I was sixteen. Narcissa took great care of me."
"Isn't he so handsome?" Narcissa said, her voice brimming with pride. "I think he could model for Witch Weekly."
"Oh, Merlin, Mother," Draco groaned, rolling his eyes. "Don't fill his head with that."
"It's true," Narcissa insisted. "It's a wonder some witch hasn't claimed him already."
Fleur's eyes widened slightly, her gaze darting briefly to Harry's broad chest before snapping back to his face. "It is as if you 'ad a full body transplant."
"Come on, Fleur, that's harsh," Draco said. "Potter wasn't exactly a troll before this."
Harry swallowed his nervousness and decided to say the first thing that came to mind. "Your old room was great."
Fleur blinked, utterly confused. "Pardon?"
Overwhelming embarrassment flooded through Harry, and his cheeks burned as hot as dragon fire. "Sorry. I didn't mean it like that," he said quickly, fumbling to explain. "Since Narcissa and Lucius helped me out, they let me use your old room at the Manor. It had a great atmosphere."
"Darling, I told you Harry was borrowing your room," Narcissa interjected smoothly.
Fleur folded her arms, her eyes narrowing at Narcissa. "And what if I wanted to come back 'ome?"
Narcissa gave her a knowing look, the kind that only a seasoned mother could master. "Do you want to come home, darling?"
Fleur rolled her eyes but didn't answer, instead turning her sharp gaze back to Harry.
"Don't worry, Fleur," Harry said. "It's all yours again. I've moved my things out."
Fleur's piercing blue eyes appraised him, scanning his face as if trying to reconcile the Harry she remembered with the man standing before her. "You attend EIMS too?" she asked.
"Harry's a direct admit to the magical engineering program," Draco chimed in, his tone tinged with pride.
Fleur kept her focus on Harry. "Oh? What kind of engineering?"
"Structural," Harry said, standing a little taller.
Fleur nodded, seeming impressed for the first time. "Like Lucius?"
"Mr. Malfoy inspired me," Harry admitted.
For the first time, Fleur's stern demeanor softened, and she gave a small smile. "That's… admirable, I suppose."
"Hey, what did I miss?"
The fresh voice came out of nowhere, drawing all their attention. Harry turned to see Daphne Greengrass entering the room, her golden-brown hair gleaming in the soft light. She tucked a loose strand behind her ear and flashed Narcissa an apologetic smile.
"Sorry I'm late. Some friends caught me after my advanced spellwork class," Daphne said, her voice light and breezy.
At twenty-one, Daphne's beauty had only grown more refined, radiating an effortless elegance. Her poised demeanor carried an air of sophistication, but her playful smile gave her an approachable charm. She wore tailored robes that hugged her slender frame, accentuating her natural grace. Her hourglass figure, paired with her radiant skin, made her as stunning as any witch Harry had ever met.
As Daphne moved to hug Narcissa and then Draco, Fleur smirked beside Harry. "Your jaw's hanging open."
Harry snapped his mouth shut, heat spreading across his face as he looked away.
Fleur leaned closer and whispered, "Let's see how Princess Daphne reacts when she recognizes you."
When Daphne turned her attention on Harry, his stomach flipped, and his heart threatened to leap out of his chest. She furrowed her brow, tilting her head as she studied him with curiosity. "Have we met before?"
Narcissa stepped forward to explain, but Fleur held up a hand to stop her. "Maman, let Daphne figure it out," Fleur said with a mischievous grin.
Draco chuckled, shaking his head. "Some things never change, Fleur."
Narcissa hesitated but glanced at Harry as if silently asking if he was okay with the game.
Harry gave a small nod, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. He was more than okay with it; he was having fun. "Hello, Daphne Greengrass. Do you still have that scar on your knee?"
Daphne's eyes widened as she gasped, instinctively reaching for her knee. "How do you know about my scar? It's completely faded now."
Harry folded his arms across his chest, trying to keep his gaze from dipping to the faint hint of her collarbone peeking from her robes. "I know lots of things about you."
Daphne's blue eyes gleamed with intrigue. She slung her enchanted handbag over the back of a chair and stepped closer, studying him intently. "You look very familiar, but I can't quite place you."
Harry remained standing, with Fleur hovering just over his shoulder, grinning like a cat that had caught a particularly delicious mouse.
"Maybe you've seen our mystery man at the dueling grounds," Fleur teased. "He practices constantly."
Daphne shook her head, her eyes still locked on Harry. "I'd remember seeing you."
Fleur snickered. "You'll never figure it out."
"Shut it, Fleur," Daphne snapped, swiveling to glare at her sister.
"Girls, please," Narcissa said, her tone calm but firm. "We should sit. We're causing a scene."
Judging by the stares from nearby tables, Harry suspected that the Malfoy women caused a scene wherever they went. Daphne, however, seemed undeterred as she studied Harry from head to toe, her brows furrowed in thought.
"You're just using this as an excuse to check him out," Fleur said with a smirk.
Daphne's cheeks turned pink, and she rounded on her sister. "Am not."
"This is getting out of hand," Narcissa said, sighing softly.
Daphne turned back to Harry, her gaze narrowing as if she were trying to solve a particularly challenging riddle. "You knew me when I was younger, and now you're here. Are you a student?"
Harry exchanged a glance with Draco before nodding. "I'm friends with your brother. And yes, I'm a first-year."
"TMI," Fleur interjected. "You'll give it away."
Daphne glanced between Draco and Harry, her thoughts visibly racing. "You're friends with Draco, and now you're here…"
Narcissa glanced at her enchanted mirror. "Gabrielle will be here in two minutes."
"Hurry," Fleur said with an excited grin. "I want to play this game with Gabrielle, too."
Daphne huffed, exasperated, and crossed her arms. "The only person I can think of is Harry Potter, but he's not… well, he's not you."
Everyone burst out laughing, and Harry grinned, stepping closer and extending a hand. "I remember that scar on your knee because you got it when you fell by the edge of the Black Lake during a picnic. Draco and I were both there."
Daphne's eyes widened in recognition, and her face lit with a brilliant smile. "Little Harry? No way!" she exclaimed before throwing her arms around him and pulling him into an enthusiastic hug.
Harry bent slightly, his hands instinctively going to her waist to steady them both. "It's good to see you too, Daphne."
Daphne bounced excitedly, hugging him with so much force that Harry struggled to catch his breath.
"I can't believe it's really you!" she said, her joy palpable as Fleur rolled her eyes.
"You'll crush him with your… enthusiasm," Fleur teased.
Daphne ignored Fleur but relaxed her grip on Harry before stepping back, her blue eyes glittering with joy. "Where have you been hiding? Every time I visit home, I ask about you, but you're always working or off somewhere else. It's like you've been avoiding me."
Harry winced internally, guilt gnawing at him. "It's nothing like that. I've just been paying my way through school and keeping busy."
"Harry is here on a scholarship," Narcissa interjected proudly. "He was the top of his year at Hogwarts."
"Wow," Daphne said, her voice filled with genuine admiration. "I'm impressed. And look at you—you've grown so much. You look so much older."
"Narcissa's been making me eat properly," Harry said with a small smile.
Narcissa beamed at him. "I can barely keep the pantry stocked."
"It's not just that," Daphne said, shaking her head in disbelief. "It's everything. I mean, look at you."
"We know," Fleur teased. "He's hot, Daphne. Keep it together."
Hot? Harry blinked, stunned. He had never heard those words aimed at him before. His face burned, but it felt oddly good to hear. Narcissa often praised him, but she wasn't exactly impartial. Coming from Fleur, however, the compliment sent his confidence soaring.
Daphne's cheeks flushed bright red, and she stepped back, clearly flustered.
"Fleur, behave yourself," Narcissa said firmly. "Harry is practically family."
Daphne turned to Narcissa, her voice sharp and defensive. "He's not family."
The words came out too quickly, and Narcissa narrowed her eyes at her daughter, her hands going to her hips. "Daphne, be nice," she warned.
Daphne whirled back to Harry, her expression panicked. "I didn't mean it like that. Sorry, Harry. I just meant you're not my biological brother."
"It's okay to feel attracted to him," Fleur said with a smirk. "You're right, he's not your biological brother."
Daphne glared daggers at her sister. "I never said I was attracted to him."
"You didn't have to," Fleur said, her grin widening. "It's obvious."
"Girls, enough," Narcissa said, her patience wearing thin. "Gabrielle is here now."
"Play along," Fleur whispered conspiratorially to Harry. "Let's see how long it takes our little blonde to figure it out."
A flicker of irritation sparked in Harry's chest, and before he could stop himself, he turned to Fleur, his voice firmer than usual. "Gabrielle isn't clueless."
Fleur blinked, momentarily taken aback. "I didn't mean it like that. It's just what I call her."
The edge in Harry's voice faded as quickly as it had come, and he sighed. "She doesn't like it when you call her that."
Fleur's teasing expression softened, and her gaze dropped. "Sorry. I won't call her that anymore. I promise."
"Wow," Draco muttered, his eyes wide with surprise. "I've never seen Fleur back down that fast."
Before Harry could reply, a cheerful voice rang out. "Hey, everyone!"
Harry turned to see Gabrielle Delacour approaching the table, her petite frame and golden hair catching the light as she waved enthusiastically. His heart jumped into his throat, and the room seemed to close in around him. It was her. It was really Gabrielle.
Once upon a time, Gabrielle, Draco, and Harry had been inseparable. As children, they had done everything together—flying broomsticks, exploring the grounds, and playing endless rounds of wizard chess. But as Gabrielle blossomed and Harry didn't, being around her had become increasingly difficult.
While other boys vied for her attention, Harry had remained the "friend" she shared her adventures with. He had harbored an unrequited crush on Gabrielle Delacour for as long as he could remember, and the weight of that longing had no outlet.
It had been two years since Harry had last seen her. During her final year at Beauxbatons, he had been preoccupied with sorting out his life after the war. In her first year at EIMS, he had actively avoided her, finding it too painful to hear about her whirlwind of admirers and the glamorous parties she attended.
Gabrielle's absence had been a source of tension between Harry and Draco. According to Draco, Gabrielle asked about Harry constantly and had even cried when he didn't attend her Beauxbatons graduation party. Draco had called Harry an idiot and an ass for avoiding her. He had been right. But Harry had held his ground.
Now, as Gabrielle stood before him, her radiant smile faltering into something unreadable, Harry wasn't sure how she would receive him. His chest tightened with both fear and overwhelming joy, and he realized just how much he had missed her.
Gabrielle hugged Narcissa and Draco, her golden locks shimmering in the light, before turning toward Harry and her sisters. That was when the world seemed to stop turning.
She was breathtaking. Her hair cascaded down her back in glossy waves, her soft features as perfect as he remembered, yet somehow more refined with time. She wore a flowing white sundress that dipped low enough to reveal her delicate collarbone and the hint of her graceful figure. Her golden-toned skin was flawless, glowing with health and vitality.
Gabrielle was more than beautiful—she was ethereal, an angel in white standing before him. The room seemed to hold its breath as the air grew thick with a mix of anticipation and tension. Harry's mind raced, every emotion colliding at once. Would she forgive him? The uncertainty gnawed at his insides.
And then her smile faded, and her expression hardened. "Now you finally decide to show up in my life?"
Gabrielle's voice cut through the air like a curse, her tone a potent mix of anger, hurt, and longing. Her words struck Harry like a physical blow, shattering the fragile hope he had carried into this moment. The raw vulnerability in her eyes left him reeling, unable to form a response.
"Well, that was dramatic," Fleur muttered, drawing a quiet laugh from Daphne and a disapproving frown from Narcissa.
Gabrielle ignored her sisters entirely, her sharp gaze fixed on Harry. Tears welled in her luminous blue eyes as her voice cracked with emotion. "Where have you been, Harry?"
Before he could answer, Gabrielle turned abruptly and stormed out of the inn, leaving Harry standing frozen in place, his heart sinking as he watched her retreating figure disappear through the door.
Narcissa started toward the door when Harry reached out and gently grabbed her wrist, stopping her.
"Let me go," he said softly. "This is my fault."
Narcissa nodded, her expression tinged with worry. "Gabrielle has missed you."
Until he saw her tears and the raw hurt in her eyes, Harry hadn't realized just how much he meant to her. He had always assumed she stayed close to him out of kindness or pity. Now, he saw how wrong he had been. "I'll fix it."
"Well, that was dramatic," Fleur said, folding her arms. "Who showed her your picture?"
"I haven't," Draco said. "And Potter doesn't post anything on magical social boards."
"If he had, I would have shown Gabrielle his picture," Daphne added.
Harry shook his head. "She hasn't seen or heard from me. That's why she's angry."
"She recognized you," Daphne said. "There's no way she wouldn't."
"Some people share a special bond," Narcissa said, her voice quiet. "Gabrielle and Harry have always been like that—inseparable, like magic and wands."
"More like Ken and Barbie," Fleur quipped, a sly grin spreading across her face. "If Ken weren't, you know, enchanted."
Daphne giggled, and Narcissa gave her eldest daughter a disapproving look before turning her attention back to Harry. "Harry is better looking than any Ken."
"Harry left Gabrielle hanging," Draco said bluntly, his voice laced with irritation. "She's still asking about you all the time."
Draco's words struck Harry like a hex, the guilt weighing heavier than ever. He wasn't wrong—Harry had screwed up. "Excuse me, everyone. I need to go find Gabrielle and fix this."
Without waiting for a reply, Harry took off at a jog, following Gabrielle out of the inn.
The hum of carriage wheels and the lively chatter of the magical street filled the air. Witches and wizards bustled around him, their robes swishing as they passed. Harry scanned the cobblestone street, his eyes darting through the crowd until he caught a glimpse of white—a flowing summer dress moving through a group of young wizards who turned to watch her pass.
She was heading toward the carriage lot. Harry broke into a run, dodging around witches with shopping bags and wizards inspecting street vendors. His heart pounded as he weaved through the crowd, his chest tightening with the fear that she might Apparate away before he could reach her.
Fortunately, Gabrielle wasn't running, and Harry caught up just as she neared the entrance of the lot. Breathless, he fell into step beside her, matching her hurried pace. He wracked his brain for the right words to say, anything to stop her from walking away.
Gabrielle didn't look at him, her chin tilted high, but her shoulders shook. Her purse swung rhythmically over her shoulder as she strode ahead. "Go away, Harry," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "That shouldn't be hard for you. You're excellent at disappearing.
Tears streaked Gabrielle's face like water from a broken dam. Her shoulders trembled, and her chin quivered as though she were barely holding herself together. But it was her eyes that hit Harry the hardest. They blazed with a fiery intensity that left him reeling. He had never seen her so angry, and he had known her for years.
He hadn't realized how deeply he'd hurt her. Gabrielle had so many admirers, so many friends, that it had never occurred to him that she would miss him. Draco had told him—warned him—but Harry hadn't believed it. He should have taken him seriously.
"Gabrielle, please," Harry said softly. "Can we stop for a second? Let me explain."
Gabrielle halted abruptly and spun to face him, her fists clenched and her blazing blue eyes locking onto his. "Explain?" she hissed, her voice trembling with anger and pain. "How do you explain ghosting me for two bloody years, Harry? You were my best friend. We shared everything."
Fresh tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks unchecked. Her chin quivered with raw emotion as she stared at him, waiting for him to respond.
"I'm sorry, Gabrielle," Harry said, his voice thick with regret. "I'm so sorry. Please, can you just hear me out? If you want, I'll disappear from your life forever after."
Gabrielle sniffled and wiped at her tears, her voice softening slightly. "That's not what I want, idiot."
"Me neither," Harry said. "I'm here now. I can't change how I acted, but I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you."
Her shoulders relaxed slightly as the intensity of her tears ebbed, though her eyes still glistened. "Was it about the war? Your family?"
She deserved the truth, but Harry wasn't ready to bare his heart completely—not yet. "That's part of it. But there's more. Things I haven't told Draco or anyone else."
Gabrielle's expression shifted, her curiosity piqued. She studied him for a moment before speaking. "Promise me you won't disappear from my life again?"
Harry smiled faintly and extended his pinky, the way they used to as children. "I pinky promise."
A hint of a grin tugged at her lips before she hooked her pinky around his and gave it a tug. "That's a big promise."
"The biggest," he said.
Without warning, Gabrielle stepped closer and melted into him, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist. Harry drew her closer, holding her firmly as she sighed with what sounded like relief. "You've grown," she murmured.
Gabrielle was nearly a foot shorter than Harry, and he easily engulfed her in his arms. She relaxed fully against him, and he rubbed her upper back gently before chuckling. "Just a little."
Gabrielle stepped back and scooped up his hand, holding it tightly. "You're not out of the woods yet," she said, her tone half-teasing, half-serious. "Tell me everything. Then I'll decide if I forgive you."
"I'll start with the abridged version," Harry said with a small, sheepish smile.
Her blue eyes narrowed in warning, and she tugged him toward a nearby bench. "Don't leave anything out."
The golden rays of the setting sun cast a warm glow on their faces as Harry and Gabrielle settled onto the bench. Gabrielle left no space between them, curling her legs up on the bench with her knees hugged to her chest. All the while, she clung to Harry's hand like a lifeline, as if letting go might cause him to vanish again.
Nearby, the bustling sounds of clinking glasses and lively conversation drifted from a magical café, while a group of wizards sped past on enchanted skateboards, their wheels humming against the cobblestones.
"I've racked my brain for two years," Gabrielle said softly. "The last time I saw you was right before my seventh year at Beauxbatons. It was the weekend after that party Draco threw. You came over to fly and hang out. After that… nothing."
"Right," Harry said with a sigh. "How could I forget that party? Except, I didn't go."
Gabrielle frowned, confusion clouding her features. "Is this about the party?"
Harry shook his head, leaning back slightly as he struggled to find the right words—ones that wouldn't betray too much of what he still felt. "Yes. No. It's more than that."
Concern etched itself into Gabrielle's exquisite face. "Harry, what did I do wrong?"
Her voice was soft, her vulnerability piercing through him. The use of her childhood nickname for him—Arry—hit like a spell to the chest. His stomach tightened, and a lump formed in his throat, regret swirling inside him like a storm. He blinked against the sheen of tears threatening to blur his vision.
Looking directly into her wide, questioning eyes, Harry shook his head. "You didn't do anything wrong. This was about me… not knowing how to handle you becoming popular."
Gabrielle's jaw dropped slightly, her expression incredulous. "You were jealous?"
"I was jealous of every single guy who seemed to appear out of nowhere—Henri, Louis, Jules, Maxime. But they were all just 'Chads.'"
Her brow furrowed. "Chad? I don't know a Chad."
"Not a real one," Harry clarified. "Chad is what I called the generic guys—always smooth, always confident. That summer, it felt like the 'Chads' were everywhere. Maxime was already at university when he tried to win you over after your sixth year."
Gabrielle rolled her eyes dismissively. "I didn't even like him. Those guys came and went, Harry. None of them were you."
Harry's heart ached at her words. "That day at the Manor—do you remember who else came to fly with us?"
Gabrielle's gaze lifted slightly, as though replaying the memory. "It was me, you, and Draco."
"And Maxime."
Her eyes widened. "Oh, that's right. He turned up uninvited and joined us. So?"
"When you and Draco went inside to grab butterbeer, Maxime stayed behind with me. We chatted. He thought you were my older cousin, visiting for the summer. He asked me what year I was in at Hogwarts."
Gabrielle's face darkened with anger. "I'm sorry. That guy was awful. He tried to make a move on me after you left."
"Yes, he's a prat," Harry said. "But in his defense, he wasn't trying to be cruel. He genuinely thought I was a child. Who could blame him?"
"So, it was about Maxime?"
Harry shook his head again. "That whole summer, you had guys coming and going—always showing up, acting like they were part of our group. They'd pretend to be friends with me to get close to you. But I overheard what they said when you weren't around. They called me your mascot. They said you only kept me around because I was safe."
Gabrielle's eyes widened, a mix of anger and disbelief flashing across her face. She tightened her grip on Harry's hand, her expression shifting to something softer—pained but understanding.
Harry waved a hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter. Through no fault of your own, your popularity just became too much for me to handle."
Gabrielle squeezed his hand, her anger giving way to a softer, more compassionate expression. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Harry hesitated, his voice quieter. "You were flourishing, Gabrielle. I wanted you to be happy, but standing next to you while looking like I did back then—it was hard."
"So, you left," she said simply.
Harry nodded. "I left because I couldn't bear to watch you thrive while I floundered. It was selfish of me, and it took me a long time to understand my mistake. Now, I know that no matter who you're with or what you're doing, I want you in my life. I let you go because I was a coward."
"You weren't a coward, Harry. You were just a kid dealing with emotions you didn't understand—on top of your mum's death and all the rubbish with your uncle. I just wish you'd told me."
"If I had told you then, I would have blamed you," Harry admitted. "And it wasn't your fault. It was something I had to work through on my own. Your mum helped me a lot."
Gabrielle sighed, her thumb brushing gently over Harry's knuckles. "I forgive you. Now, can we go back to being best friends?"
Harry smiled, his chest loosening with relief. "I'd like that."
Gabrielle's lips curved into a warm smile. She reached out, giving his muscled shoulder a playful squeeze. "Who's flourishing now?"
Harry grinned. "I blame it on your mum's cooking."
Gabrielle laughed, the sound bright and melodic. It was like music, a soothing balm that melted away years of tension. For the first time in what felt like forever, Harry felt the weight of the world lift from his shoulders.
Gabrielle slid her hand more firmly into his, her fingers lacing through his. "You know I never cared about how you looked, right?"
"I know," Harry said, his voice steady. "Which is why all of this was on me. But I missed you, Gabrielle. I think about you every day."
"Me too, dummy. You've got a lot of making up to do."
"No more running," Harry promised. "But I'm warning you—I might turn into a pest."
Gabrielle's eyes sparkled as she stretched her legs across his lap, settling closer to him. "Good. That's just the way I like it."
Harry hesitated for a moment, then placed his free hand gently on her ankle. "We should probably head back before Narcissa sends out a search party."
Gabrielle studied him, her eyes lingering as though weighing something unspoken. She didn't move, her legs still draped across his lap, her hand warm in his. "What if I told you I have a boyfriend?"
Gabrielle giggled. "His name's not Chad."
Harry rolled his eyes playfully. "Whenever I meet him, I'll be on my best behavior."
A quiet moment stretched between them, the mood shifting. The air seemed to grow heavier, not uncomfortably so, but as though Gabrielle had something on her mind she wasn't ready to voice. Harry let the silence play out, sensing she would speak when she was ready.
She pursed her lips, her gaze growing more intense, almost as though she were seeing him for the first time. "You've changed, Harry."
He glanced at himself, then back at her. "Duh. But don't worry—I'm still the same me inside."
Gabrielle shook her head. "I don't think so. And I'm not talking about how you look. You've matured. You're a man now."
Harry rubbed the shadow of stubble along his jawline. "Thanks, Gabrielle. I guess with everything I've been through, I had to grow up fast. As for you and me, I'll keep the jealousy locked in a trunk at the foot of my bed, and if it ever gets out of line, I'll hex it back in place."
Gabrielle giggled, but what she did next caught Harry entirely off guard. She crawled onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and neck to pull him into a hug. "I missed you so much."
Harry's stomach flipped as his head seemed to float into the clouds. Her sweet, floral scent enveloped him as he buried his nose in her golden locks. The warmth of her body pressed against his, her soft curves molding perfectly to him, made the moment almost surreal.
"I missed you too, Gabrielle," he murmured. "Always."
She squeezed him tighter, her thumb grazing the base of his neck in a tender caress. "I'm still your Gabrielle," she whispered.
"And I'm still your Harry."
Gabrielle pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. But these weren't tears of pain—they were happy, grateful tears. She kept her arms draped over his shoulders, her hands clasped loosely behind his neck. Only inches separated their faces, her lips so close to his he felt his instincts urging him to close the gap.
Her gaze flickered to his lips, a twinkle in her eye. "Does my Harry have a girlfriend?"
Harry shook his head. "I came to EIMS single and ready to mingle."
Gabrielle frowned teasingly. "You're not a man-whore, are you?"
Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Not even close. Between work and school, I don't have time for that. Someone's got to pay for my tuition, and it sure as hell isn't Vernon Dursley."
Gabrielle giggled, her blue eyes sparkling. "Good. Keep it that way. Where's your dorm? I want to help you set it up."
Harry hesitated, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "About that—it's complicated. Come on, let's head inside, and I'll explain everything."
During their walk back to the inn, Gabrielle clung tightly to Harry's hand. Perhaps clung was too strong a word; it felt natural, as if their hands had always fit together this way and always would. It wasn't just a rekindling of their old friendship. There was a new, unspoken chemistry between them now, one charged with a subtle tension that hadn't been there before.
Was he entering the friend zone again? Possibly. But Harry didn't think so, and, honestly, he didn't care. He had spent years valuing Gabrielle's friendship above all else, and now that they had found their way back to each other, he wasn't about to let her slip away again. He missed her—everything about her.
Though the walk was short, Gabrielle made the most of it. She asked questions about his magical engineering studies and his scholarship. Just as they reached the inn's entrance, she started prodding him about his living situation.
The lively atmosphere of the inn enveloped them as they stepped inside. The hum of conversation, clinking silverware, and the occasional burst of laughter filled the air. The tantalizing aroma of roasted meats and freshly baked bread mingled with the scent of enchanted beverages wafting from the bar. Groups of students and their families occupied every corner, filling the space with vibrant energy.
Hand in hand, Harry and Gabrielle navigated through the crowd back to the table where the rest of the Malfoy family sat. They were chatting as if nothing had happened, but Narcissa's keen eyes caught them first.
"They're back," Narcissa said, her face lighting up with a relieved smile.
Her gaze flickered to their joined hands, and her smile grew even warmer, her approval clear. Across the table, Draco noticed them next. Grinning, he gave Harry two thumbs up, his expression radiating pride. He had been pushing for their reunion for years, and it was no secret he hoped Harry and Gabrielle might truly connect.
Daphne and Fleur turned in their chairs at the same time. Daphne's expression was one of quiet approval, but her smile faltered as her eyes lingered on Gabrielle's hand in Harry's. Fleur, however, was harder to read. She noticed their joined hands immediately, her lips curling into a knowing smile. She gave an almost imperceptible nod, then swiveled back around to face Narcissa and Draco. The glint in her eye and the determined tilt of her head reminded Harry of a duelist ready for a challenge.
"Sorry for the drama," Gabrielle said softly. "I was just so surprised."
"It's perfectly fine, darling," Narcissa said, her voice warm. "Come sit here next to me."
Gabrielle led Harry around the table, and he took the seat beside Narcissa while Gabrielle settled in next to him, only then letting go of his hand.
"Can we order? I'm starving," Fleur said, breaking the moment.
"Same," Daphne agreed. "They have the best grilled chicken salad here."
Gabrielle glanced over at Harry, smiling sweetly as she inched closer. Her movement was subtle, but the neckline of her sundress dipped just enough to reveal a tantalizing view of her collarbone and the gentle curve of her décolletage. She scanned the magical menu hovering over the table and, almost imperceptibly, shifted her chair closer to his.
The server arrived a moment later, and they placed their food and drink orders. Soon, the conversation shifted to Harry's housing crisis.
"What's this about a problem with your dorm assignment?" Fleur asked, her piercing blue eyes locking onto Harry and making it difficult to think straight.
Narcissa turned to Harry, giving him a nod of encouragement. Harry explained his uncle's sabotage and the resulting mess with his housing situation. Narcissa filled in a few of the blanks, answering questions from her daughters that Harry hadn't thought to include.
"Your uncle sounds like a real piece of work," Fleur said, her voice laced with disdain. "Who does that to family?"
"Vernon Dursley doesn't believe Harry is his nephew," Gabrielle said softly.
"There was a bloody paternity spell," Fleur said, her tone sharp. "Is the man incapable of basic comprehension?"
"He's just cruel," Daphne added, her voice filled with sympathy. "I'm sorry, Harry. You deserve so much better."
"Thanks, Daphne," Harry said. "At least we've locked him out of all my accounts now."
Under the table, Gabrielle slipped her hand into Harry's, intertwining her fingers with his. Her touch was warm and soothing, her thumb brushing gently against the back of his hand. When Harry glanced at her, her eyes were soft and full of concern.
"What else has he done to you?" Gabrielle asked gently.
Harry shook his head. "More than I'd like to get into over dinner. But I promise, I'll tell you everything later."
Fleur frowned at Gabrielle, and Daphne shifted uneasily in her chair. Harry noticed their discomfort but decided to focus on the table at large. "So that's the gist of it," he said. "I've got nowhere to stay, and we've already checked the local inns. Everything's booked solid for the next two weeks."
"I'm looking into renting a house," Narcissa said. "Lucius and I have talked about buying property near the Institute for years—for events, visits, or even to lease out. Now, with all of our children here, there's no better time. But that doesn't help us tonight."
The warmth in Narcissa's voice when she referred to Harry as one of her own wasn't lost on him—or on Gabrielle, who squeezed his hand under the table in response.
"Harry can stay with me," Gabrielle said suddenly, her thumb still brushing against his hand.
Harry's mind reeled. Her touch alone was enough to leave him lightheaded, but her offer sent his thoughts spiraling. Stay with her? They had shared countless sleepovers as children, but now, with the undeniable chemistry between them, the idea seemed charged with tension.
Fleur barked out a laugh. "Where? In the women's dormitory? You live in the Beauxbatons sorority house."
"Yes," Gabrielle replied, her voice calm. "And you're the president of it. Besides, it's only for a couple of weeks."
Daphne frowned. "How would that even work? You have a single bed. Where would Harry sleep?"
"With me. In the same bed," Gabrielle said, her tone matter-of-fact. "We used to nap together all the time at the Manor."
Harry's heart pounded, and his imagination spiraled. He fought to keep his expression neutral as his thoughts betrayed him, conjuring visions of Gabrielle's legs wrapped around him, her breathless whispers in his ear.
Fleur snorted, nearly choking on her water, while Daphne's jaw dropped. Draco shook his head, chuckling softly.
"Oh, dear," Narcissa said, her tone hesitant. "I'm not sure that's the best idea."
"You all need to get your heads out of the gutter," Gabrielle said, exasperated. "Harry's my best friend. It's not like that."
Fleur's jaw dropped, her expression incredulous. "Have you seen your best friend lately? The man looks like he stepped out of Wizards Weekly."
Harry's cheeks flushed crimson, and he quickly averted his gaze.
Daphne crossed her arms, her expression stern as she looked down her nose at Gabrielle. "You just want to have sex with him."
Gabrielle gasped, her face turning bright red. "I do not!"
Draco burst into laughter so hard that he nearly fell out of his chair. "This is amazing. You've been here all of three hours, Potter, and you already have the ladies fighting over you."
"Shut it, Draco," Fleur snapped.
"Enough," Narcissa said sharply.
Her voice carried a tone of authority that silenced the table immediately. The bickering ceased as everyone turned their attention to her. Narcissa took a calming breath and smiled at Gabrielle. "Thank you for offering a solution, darling, but let's consider some alternatives first."
"Why aren't you and Draco rooming together?" Fleur asked, her gaze shifting to Harry. "You're best friends."
"And we want to keep it that way," Harry said with a shrug. "How did rooming with your best friend go during your first year?"
Fleur's expression soured instantly. "Okay, point taken. But you and Draco are practically brothers."
"We wanted to meet more people," Draco interjected. "Living apart forces us to expand our social circles. Besides, it's not like I won't see Harry every day."
"Draco is rushing a fraternity," Harry added. "He'll be busy."
All three girls turned to Harry, their expressions a mix of surprise and confusion.
Gabrielle was the first to speak. "You're not rushing?"
Harry shook his head. "I've had a complicated history with groups like that."
Daphne raised an eyebrow. "Don't stereotype them all. You could make some great friends in a fraternity."
"Besides, you can pair with our sorority," Gabrielle added with a grin. "Daphne is the social chair this year. She'll put you on all the lists."
Daphne beamed. "Absolutely. Please don't decide yet, Harry. Let us introduce you to some of the groups. You might meet people you really like."
"What type would that be?" Narcissa asked with a curious smile.
Fleur grinned. "Hot, smart, and aloof. All he's missing is long hair and a lute."
Gabrielle and Daphne giggled, while Draco rolled his eyes.
"I'm more of the wallflower type," Harry said, shrugging modestly.
"Not anymore," Gabrielle said with a firm smile. "You're with us now."
"Okay, children," Narcissa interjected, her tone authoritative but kind. "I'm all for boosting Harry's confidence, but let's return to the matter at hand. Harry needs a place to stay tonight. Does anyone have a practical suggestion?"
"Harry could crash with me," Draco offered, "but I don't even know my roommate yet. You're like a brother to me, but my room should be a last resort."
"I'm not putting you in that position," Harry said. "If it comes to that, I'll stay with Gabrielle."
Gabrielle squeezed Harry's hand under the table, her bright smile drawing pointed looks from her sisters.
"Harry, you can stay with me," Daphne offered. "I have a private suite at the Beauxbatons sorority house, away from the main dormitory. There's even a futon you can use."
"May I remind you that you share that suite with two other girls?" Fleur said, raising an eyebrow. "And it's right next to the housemother's quarters."
Daphne rolled her eyes. "Wizards sneak in all the time. Ginny and Padma wouldn't mind—they'd actually love it."
"And neither of them can keep a secret," Gabrielle said. "They'd tell everyone, and I wouldn't put it past Ginny to make a move on Harry."
Harry exchanged a glance with Draco, curious about this Ginny and wondering if he should meet her.
Daphne glared at Gabrielle. "What do you care? Aren't you dating Maxime now? What would he think of Harry sleeping in your bed?"
"I broke up with Maxime," Gabrielle said, her tone sharp. "And what I do with my friends is none of his business."
"Ladies, please," Narcissa said, her exasperation showing. "Do you three always bicker this much?"
Gabrielle huffed, sitting back in her chair, while Daphne's expression turned sour.
"We have only one reasonable option," Fleur said smoothly. "Harry can stay in my room at the sorority."
The suggestion sent a jolt of surprise through Harry, his mind racing. The thought of staying with Fleur conjured vivid images he quickly pushed away. He couldn't believe the situation he had found himself in. For once, he thought wryly, perhaps his uncle's sabotage had inadvertently done him a favor.
But if Harry had a choice, he would stay with Gabrielle. Her bubbly personality and warm presence drew him in like nothing else could. Even if it meant enduring a night of frustrated longing, the thought of holding her in his arms as she nestled against him was intoxicating.
Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair, trying to redirect his thoughts while Fleur continued speaking.
Fleur ticked off the reasons on her fingers. "I use the senior wing entrance at the sorority—it's a private entrance, completely separate from the housemother's quarters. I have my own room, and there's a futon Harry can crash on."
"And you're the president of the sorority," Daphne pointed out. "If anyone finds out, our entire chapter could face serious consequences."
"There's no way I'm letting that happen," Harry said firmly.
"Please, Daphne, you're being overly dramatic," Fleur replied with a dismissive wave. "No one cares that much. Last year, the president's boyfriend practically lived in her room. He stayed over five nights a week, and they—"
"Fleur, language, please," Narcissa said sharply.
"And you'll do the same with your boyfriend," Gabrielle interjected. "Harry doesn't want to hear or witness you and Tate having... moments. Talk about awkward."
"I don't want any part of that," Harry said quickly.
Fleur rolled her eyes. "Who said anything about Tate staying in my room? That's never happening—not even in his wildest dreams." She turned to Harry, flashing a sly grin. "I promise, Harry, we'd sleep totally alone together—just you and me."
As she spoke, Fleur glanced at Gabrielle, whose huff of indignation was impossible to miss.
"You are not sharing a bed with Harry," Gabrielle said, her tone sharp. "That's disgusting."
Daphne chuckled softly and shook her head in disbelief. "But it's okay for you to sleep with him?"
Gabrielle's eyes flared with anger as she turned to Daphne, her glare sharp enough to cut glass. "I'm not sleeping with Harry."
"Maybe it's better if I find another option," Harry said quickly, hoping to diffuse the tension.
Narcissa, ever poised, slid her arm around Harry's shoulders and leaned in slightly. "Lucius is away on business. I'll rent a room for us in the next town over. I can drive you to and from campus until your dorm situation is sorted."
"No way, Narcissa," Gabrielle said, her voice rising. "Harry will miss out on everything."
Daphne looked like she wanted to interject but held her tongue, while Fleur gave Narcissa a strange, knowing smile that Harry couldn't decipher.
The thought of being alone in a hotel with Narcissa—her graceful presence and undeniable beauty—sent Harry's mind spiraling, his pulse quickening despite his best efforts to remain composed.
Draco leaned back in his chair, his grin widening as he surveyed the table. "It looks like Harry has plenty of options. Why don't we let him decide?"
Harry shot Draco a withering look, but Draco's grin only grew.
"Great idea," Fleur said, turning to Harry with a mischievous smile, her piercing blue eyes seeming to challenge him. "What do you think?"
Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to calm his racing thoughts. Images of Fleur, Daphne, and Gabrielle—all in various states of casual elegance—flashed through his mind. They were all viable options, but only one made sense.
Turning to Narcissa, Harry spoke carefully. "Gabrielle's right. I don't want to miss out on orientation events, especially at night. From what I've heard, there's a lot going on."
"I'll go with you," Gabrielle said quickly, her tone eager.
Daphne laughed lightly. "You're a sophomore, Gabrielle. You've got a sorority rush to plan. You can't just tag along."
Gabrielle rolled her eyes. "Whatever."
Harry squeezed Gabrielle's hand gently, turning to face her. "We've got a lot of catching up to do, and I'll take every moment you can spare. But sharing a bed with you?" He hesitated, his voice softening. "Let's just say that might give me certain... ideas. And it sounds like it could land you in trouble, especially with your sorority. I don't want to risk your reputation. And what about your boyfriend? That's just asking for problems."
Gabrielle's bright demeanor dimmed slightly, and her gaze grew somber, her fingers tightening around Harry's as if unwilling to let go. She nodded slowly, her lips pursed in thought. "I'll do whatever you think is best," she said quietly, her voice laced with reluctant acceptance.
Thank you for reading! If you want to read chapters 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11,12 right now and discover even more stories, join me on . Your support helps me bring you even more magical adventures!
pa treon .com(slash)lovelab (remove the space)