A/N: Hello people and thank you so much for your support! Here's a little mini-fic with Fleur and Harry at Beauxbatons; part three of a fair few!

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Their equivalent to Hogsmeade was far more extravagant and ornate, and most obvious of all, populated. He hadn't expected to see nearly one-hundred people when they'd made it to the centre of the 'little' village, and beyond that, he'd not have expected to see Goblins, Half-Giants, house elves or other Veela either.

In Diagon Alley, one would be hard-pressed to see a pair or single Goblin, much less a Half-Giant that wasn't Hagrid or Veela.

Here, they just milled about like any other in the paradise-like place.

"You are deestracted," Fleur said, admonishing him as she twirled before him and filled his view with her face — it certainly matched the otherworldly feel of the place with how angelic she looked. "What? Ees ze place zat parfa— perfect, ou 'ave you never seen weetches as beauteeful as Gabby and I?"

"Eet 'as to be zat, Fleur," Gabby piped up from beside her sister, and he glanced her way when Fleur stepped back to wrap an arm around the smaller girl's shoulders. "Look at us, non?"

Harry did just that, and Merlin… how easy it was to get lost looking at them.

He shook his head a second after. "It could be both," Fleur was immune to him turning the table, but maybe Gabby wasn't, he reckoned.

"Ah, you 'eard zat, seester?" Gabby clutched one of Fleur's hands with both of hers and looked up at her sister with a wondrous, glowing smile.

"Ouais, I 'eard 'eem," Fleur bent over, and kissed the tip of her sister's nose, and then she spun the younger girl away, to Harry's left as she took up a position to his right. Without pause, she took hold of one of his hands. "Our 'Arry ees a bold one. Eet ees ze weetches of Beauxbatons zat 'ought to 'ave been protected when 'e came 'ere, ze ozzers from 'Ogwarts 'ad eet backwards."

At that, he shot her an innocent look. Him? Be the reason witches need watching over?

Gabby's reaction was a cute-sounding giggle as she slid a hand as soft as Fleur's into Harry's. "Come, to ze chocolate!" She looked past him and pouted at her sister. "Fleur? S'il te plaît, soeur?"

"You weel 'umour 'er weez me, non, 'Arry?" The hand that had been holding his, withdrew and instead, slithered around his shoulders just as she'd done to Gabrielle. In an instant, she pulled him firmly into her side, and his senses were filled by her; the floral, sweet scent of perfume and shampoo was nearly as entrancing as her softness.

"Yeah. Yeah, I will," Harry had to blink himself back to some semblance of sanity. It helped when Gabby raced away, slipping her hand from his has she ran to the porch of the shop Fleur had started them towards; La Fudgerie.

"Eet ees 'er favoureete," Fleur stopped right before the steps that Gabrielle had raced up, and pouted out her bottom lip. Her otherwise beautiful visage marred by a frown. "I forget ze camera."

"Camera?" Harry asked, blinking at her.

"Of course," Fleur said. "Zees ees a moment to be remembered, non?"

Harry supposed it was.

Much later, when the sun was only just starting to set, the three had finally begun their journey back to the grounds of Beauxbatons. As one might expect, the place that'd looked so very beautiful in daylight looked otherworldly in the last rays of the day. The flowers that were still in full bloom only furthered the thoughts of perfection this place demanded, and made it seem like a grove deep in the woods, left untouched and forgotten despite the masterfully crafted buildings.

Beauxbatons, the tributary village, it was unfair how scenic it all was.

"You weel 'ave deener wees Gabby and I, yes? We would eentroduce you to our cousins," Fleur had seen to it for nearly the entire day that one of her hands was holding his, and with it, she was leading him as they watched Gabrielle race ahead. "And 'ave you show us to ze ozzers you keep weez — eef only to assure zeem zey steel 'ave a 'Arry."

"Yeah?" Harry found himself grinning on account of her choice of words. "I don't think they'll say you stole me, you know."

Fleur tutted and pressed a finger from her free hand to his lips. "You 'ave not seen ze stares zen, 'ave you?" As she'd done when she'd realised she lacked her camera, she pouted, sticking out her bottom lip and blinking at him in such an exaggerated fashion he could hardly stop that grin of his from growing. "I 'ad zought zeem seesters ou zose zat would 'ave you as zey're own, but zat ees not ze case, non?"

He shook his head. "No." Harry couldn't stop a tinge of amusement from entering his tone.

She beamed at him for a moment, her smile entirely too perfect; it certainly matched the scenery.

Back at Beauxbatons, yet still with Fleur's hand in his own, Harry found himself sat at the end of one of their — by comparison to Hogwarts' four — small tables, and pressed firmly into her side. He was kept just like that thanks to the aforementioned hand that was grasping his own.

Just seated as they were, she beckoned to the other three blonde-haired girls sat to her right or to his left, given the table had four benches placed around it; the quality needn't be mentioned either.

"My lovely cousins," Fleur said, gesturing to them in a clockwise manner. "Celine, Zoé and Lya — my maman's side."

They all gave him a wave or smile, and then, by and large, continued whispering to one another in hushed voices. He wasn't sure why, given they were still speaking French despite Fleur's dirty look and own, acidic-sounding comment.

Cousins, he reckoned.

"Zey are worse zan me when eet comes to speak An— Engleesh," Fleur took her hand back from his — finally — as the food manifested on the table before them. Instead, she was content to wrap it around him to keep him closer. "Tourtière?"

"What?" Harry blinked at her.

Fleur's response was to pinch his cheek, and coo. "'Ow adorable."

And right in time for his Quidditch mates to walk in and see it happen; he'd be teased relentlessly.