Fleur De Lis Chapter 19. (Patreon)

Content Warnings: Handjobs, Cum on Clothes, Teasing.

“It’s beautiful.”

Fleur leaned her head on Harry’s shoulder. An arm snaked around his waist and she pulled herself closer. The view in front of them was mesmerizing. Sunlight from the setting sun scattered across the lake’s surface, making the tiny ripples of water appear like flames racing to the sandy shore. 

“I used to love the lake,” Harry murmured. He carefully turned his wrist and the blanket he had brought with them wrapped itself around their shoulders. The fabric tightened, pulling them closer together. He wasn’t taking any chances with her recuperation. Madam Pomfrey had told him her body was still weak, which meant a higher risk of getting a cold. Since she stubbornly refused to withdraw from the Tournament, he had taken it upon himself to play nurse and take care of her health as much as possible. 

Fleur raised an eyebrow at the peculiar phrasing. 

“You don’t anymore?”

“It tried to kill you. The water weakens you.”

Fleur giggled and kissed Harry’s cheek. 

“I hope that doesn’t mean you hate showers too. All water weakens me, mon amour.”

“Are you in pain every time you shower?!” Harry asked in alarm.

“Non. That water is too little to affect me in any noticeable manner.”

“Stop scaring me.” Harry rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, his gaze fixed on the orange splashed across the horizon. Worrying about Fleur had become his full-time occupation. They still had the Third Task left and the structure of the task meant that he wouldn’t be able to start it with her like the previous one. 

He silently grasped her shoulder and guided her head onto his lap. He waited as she wriggled and got comfortable before gently freeing her hair and burying his fingers in the platinum-blonde curls. 

“I like it when you’re being protective,” Fleur admitted with a lazy smile. She sighed and stretched her legs. She was already drowsy and Harry’s fingers gently running through her hair were not helping matters. “My hero,” Fleur purred. Her magic spilled out inadvertently and the Allure flooded the thankfully empty space around them.

The temperature rose noticeably. Harry felt his skin prickle. His breathing slowed and his heartbeat sped up. He licked his suddenly dry lips and looked down at the beautiful Veela on his lap with wide green eyes, resisting the urge to bend and capture her lips.

“Sorry!” Fleur squeaked when she felt Harry’s throbbing manhood press against her cheek. Her Allure had been harder to control since the Second Task. She had chalked it down to her experience in the lake even though deep down, she knew that wasn’t the case.

She had found her mate and her biology demanded that she, well, mate with him. 

“It’s okay,” Harry said hoarsely. He was glad no one was around to see his pink cheeks and blown pupils. “I’m used to it by now,” he lied.

He wasn’t. He doubted he ever would be. 

He pulled out the copy of Healers Tricks for Magical Shticks from his bag in an attempt to distract himself from his raging libido. He flipped it open to the bookmarked page and rested the book on Fleur’s arm. One hand returned to her hair and he gently ran his fingers through the silvery curls as he began to read. It had long been his favorite pastime. Fleur loved it and unlike Hermione, they read everything from academic textbooks to pulp romance in bed together. Well, he read and she listened. 

Within minutes she was fast asleep, snoring cutely on his lap. Harry kept reading for a few more minutes before quietly setting the book on the ground. He gently brushed a strand of hair away from Fleur’s face so that he could watch the peaceful smile on her lips. 

“You two are so nauseatingly adorable. It makes me want to hurl.”

Harry rolled his eyes and turned to look at Gabrielle and Hermione. The younger Veela had one hand on Hermione’s derrière. Harry rolled his eyes again. His libido was a drop in the ocean compared to his best friend’s. There were days he wondered how she managed to maintain her perfect grades given the amount of time she spent being pinned against various walls of the castle by Gabrielle Isabelle Delacour.

“If you two are going to fuck can you be quiet, please?” Harry smirked. His smile grew wider at the hint of red creeping into Hermione’s cheeks. “Fleur just fell asleep and I want her to rest a bit before our class with Professor McGonagall.”

“We’re not going to… fuck!” Hermione mumbled, blushing furiously. She gently twisted free of Gabrielle’s grasp and sat down on the blanket Harry had spread on the damp grass. “As if I would ever-” she gestured at the open space around them “-here.”

“Besides, we just fucked. I like to have a little downtime between two sessions of tapping my girlfriend’s cute ass so we can do wholly unnecessary things like talking,” Gabrielle said as she flopped onto Hermione’s lap. 

“You didn’t need to tell Harry that,” Hermione hissed. Her blush deepened and she focused her attention on the Veela between her legs. She wrapped them around her waist, pinning the shorter girl in place. 

“Pssh.” Gabrielle leaned into Hermione’s chest and closed her eyes. “Harry knows. He’s walked in on us three times now.”

“That’s three times too many,” Harry muttered. “Please tell me you didn’t use Hagrid’s hut again. That man is too pure to walk in on you two kinky idiots doing… whatever it is that you do.”

“That was one time! And Hermione was being a cutie,” Gabrielle said, acting as if that explained her behavior. “No. We were in our usual third-floor classroom.”

“Another loveshack?!”

“Well, someone-” Gabrielle started with a pointed look at Harry. “Took over our last one.”

“I still think it’s disturbing that you turned the classroom next to Snape’s office into a loveshack. Why can’t you meet your girlfriend in her dorms like literally everyone else?”

“She won’t let me keep toys on her nightstand. Lavender and Parvati are nosy and she doesn’t want them to stumble across one.”

“Yeah. Parvati is a fiend for plushies. She has about a million of them on her bed.”

“Don’t let my sister know you’ve been to Parvati Patil’s bed,” Gabrielle smirked. “And I’m not talking about plushies, Harry.”

“What then?”

“Dildos, floggers, this really nice riding crop I got-”

Hermione clamped her hand over Gabrielle’s mouth to shut her up. She ignored her flaming cheeks and the sudden desire to discipline her perpetually horny girlfriend and turned to Harry.

“We saw them working on the maze from the window,” she said awkwardly. Her breath hitched when Gabrielle took one of her fingers into her mouth and began to lazily suck on it. Gabrielle had no sense of propriety and she loved every second of it. 

“Did they finally finish it?” Harry asked. His gaze shifted to the Quidditch pitch. His brow furrowed as he studied the tall hedges that had replaced the stands. It was a maze, that much they knew. They’d tested the hedges and found they were charmed to resist most magic and were even fire-resistant. That hadn’t stopped Gabrielle from chucking fireballs at the maze every time they passed it to test their tolerance. 

Harry wished it were that easy. If it was, he’d simply follow Fleur as she burned a straight line from the entrance to the cup and watch her win the Tournament. 

“I don’t think so. The maze also shifted while the Ministry officials were inside. I watched the paths change in real-time,” Hermione murmured. She copied Harry and leaned against the scarred oak tree behind them. They cut a strange pair, two best friends discussing the dangerous culmination of a deadly tournament with their Veela girlfriends cuddled into their sides. Gabrielle didn’t pay any attention to their conversation. She hummed quietly and kept her focus fixed on Hermione’s fingers, gently sucking on them one by one. Fleur was still fast asleep. Hermione smiled at the sight next to her. 

“Bet that’s to prevent the judges from helping their favored champions,” Harry muttered. He looked away from the maze and turned his attention to Fleur. “I wish she’d agree to hold back in the Final Task,” he said. He bent and kissed Fleur’s forehead. The Veela babbled incoherently and burrowed deeper into Harry’s lap.

“She loves you,” Gabrielle observed. She pulled Hermione’s finger out of her mouth and gave it one last kiss before freeing her hand. “I’ve never seen her feel safe enough to sleep out of her room before today.” 

“I wouldn’t blame her given the experiences she’s had.” Harry gently pushed his hands under Fleur’s shoulders. He ignored her quiet grunts of protest and pulled her up against his chest. He let Fleur rest her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around her slender frame. His hand buried in her hair and he began stroking it again. 

“Harry?” Fleur mumbled. Her voice was heavy with sleep and she yawned quietly. The Veela had no desire to move but enough information had filtered through her sleep-addled brain to ensure that she knew they were discussing something important. She shivered in Harry’s arms as a gust of cold air tickled her bare arms and hands. She instinctively popped open a middle button on Harry’s white shirt and her hands burrowed through the space. She sighed as the chill was driven away by the familiar warmth of Harry’s skin. She had gotten used to sleeping in the nude with him and the lack of nightmares and overall quality of sleep made her wonder how she had ever managed to sleep before she met Harry. “Whas going on?”

“Nothing, love. Go back to sleep.”

“Don’t you have a class with Professor McGonagall in five minutes?”

“I’m sure she’d understand why we missed it,” Harry said, fixing a glare at his best friend. “I’ve been keeping her updated on Fleur’s health since the day of the Second Task.”

“Non.” Fleur reluctantly placed her palms on Harry’s chest and pushed herself away from him. She yawned again as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “The professor is using her valuable time to teach us. We shall attend.”

“Flower-” Harry whispered, only to be cut off by Fleur leaning in and kissing him chastely. They both pulled away and sported matching blushes on hearing Gabrielle’s cough that did nothing to cover up her teasing.

Harry helped Fleur to her feet and accepted her hand. He let her playfully pretend to pull him up but in his hurry to get up he lost his balance and crashed into her. Both of them tumbled to the ground together and Harry landed on top of Fleur, his face trapped between her soft mounds.

“Lewd,” Gabrielle teased, coughing again. 

Harry made no attempt to move. Fleur for her part ignored her sister’s teasing. She sighed happily and ran her fingers through Harry’s messy black hair. They stayed like that for a few seconds, with Harry taking advantage of the opportunity to pepper her chest with discreet kisses. He stopped before things got awkward and pushed himself off her. 

“You’re worse, Delacour,” Harry smirked as he helped Fleur to her feet. He dusted off her cloak and looped his arm through hers. “I’ll leave you alone with your girlfriend. I presume you’re rested enough for round two.”

“You presume correctly,” Gabrielle said, shamelessly pushing her fingers underneath the waistband of Hermione’s skirt. 

Harry shot Gabrielle a mock salute and walked off with Fleur. 

“What you did was risky, mon amour,” Fleur purred. The normally demure Veela was buzzing with unfamiliar energy. Her Allure crackled around her form, barely held in check by her. 

“You did not like it?” 

“Non!” Fleur exclaimed, a little too quickly. She blushed and coughed awkwardly. “It was good. It was very good,” she murmured with a dreamy smile. She treasured every sneaky touch and stolen glance. The fact that he couldn’t stay away even though he wasn’t supposed to touch her while she recovered lit an uncontrollable fire in her core. 

Every man and half the women she met thought she was sexy. Harry was the first person who made her feel wanted. 

“But I do not like what it does to you,” Fleur murmured ruefully. They walked across the deserted courtyard and into the warmth of the Atrium. 

The Great Hall was still lively, with sounds of conversation and clinking of cutlery wafting out of the open doors. The occasional person they passed on their way to the staircase stopped dead in their tracks. Their gaze followed the oblivious couple until they were well out of sight, every single one of them affected by Fleur’s Allure. 

“What do you mean?” Harry cocked an eyebrow in confusion. 

Fleur blushed and shyly nodded to the barely noticeable bulge in Harry’s jeans. Even his cousin’s oversized clothes did not completely hide it.

“I assure you, that is absolutely wanted. Not something to apologize about,” Harry said with a grin. 

“Is it not uncomfortable?”

“Just tight. And only until I can get to a shower.”

Fleur blushed at the implications behind Harry’s smirk. She noticed he hadn’t specified a cold shower, which meant he was probably using the longer method to take care of himself. She wondered what he thought about but didn’t think she’d ever be brave enough to ask him outright. 

“We are going to Professor McGonagall’s office,” Fleur pointed out with a frown. “You do not have the time to go to your dormitory and take a shower.”

“I’ll survive,” Harry shrugged carelessly. “It’s a couple of hours at most. She told me she won’t push us until you’ve recovered fully.”

“But you will be distracted.” Fleur frowned and shook her head. She made Harry stop halfway down the hallway and pulled him into a broom closet with a determined tug on their enjoined hands. “You must concentrate if you are to do well in the Third Task, Harry Potter,” Fleur whispered as she studied his tired expression with worried blue eyes. “You do not have my permission to die.”

The ionized air around them hummed. Harry lunged forward and crashed into Fleur, the weight of his body propelling both of them towards the open door of the closet. Fleur hastily shut the broom cupboards' door seconds before her back hit them.

“Oh, Harry!” Fleur moaned, slipping into French without realizing it.

Their lips met. Tongues clashed in a medley of imaginary fireworks and dueled playfully while Fleur’s hands fumbled and struggled to undo the belt holding up Harry’s jeans. It took her a couple of tries before she slipped the leather strip free of the buckle and pulled it away from his jeans. The belt hit the stone floor with a dull CLUNK. Without anything to hold up the oversized jeans they dropped to the floor and pooled around Harry’s ankles.

“We can’t. We can’t!” Harry groaned and reluctantly pulled away from Fleur. He quickly turned away from her to hide the raging erection straining against his boxers.

“Harry. Listen to me.” Fleur paused and switched to English. “Harry. We can do a lot of things without straining ourselves.”

She gently grasped his shoulders and turned him around. Her blue eyes stayed locked with his gorgeous emerald ones as she reached out with a hand and pushed her fingers into the waistband of his black boxers, slowly moving them down his legs. The silky material slid down his skin and within seconds it too was pooled around his ankles. Harry’s erection smacked against her thighs as it sprung free. 

“Is that a… how do you say it? Is that a wand in your pocket, mon amour? Or are you just happy to see me?”

“Not funny,” Harry growled. The control he exercised around Fleur was quickly unraveling. He forced his hands into fists. His nails digging into the skin of his palms helped to ward off the growing effects of the Allure and grounded him, ensuring that he did not do anything foolish. He watched with wide eyes as Fleur pulled first her left hand and then her right to her lips, sloppily kissing them and coating her palms with saliva.

“It was a little funny, mon amour,” Fleur giggled. She gently wrapped her hands around the base of Harry’s shaft. Her smile grew at his needy groan. “I am not made of glass,” she purred, tilting her head to bare her creamy neck to him. “You will not break me.”

It was all it took for Harry to break. He leaned into her touch, groaning quietly as the position increased the pressure of her hands around his girth. He gently grabbed her waist and pulled her closer, his fingers digging into her soft skin and leaving bruises in their wake. His face buried in the crook of her neck and he left a trail of kisses down her creamy skin, spurred on by her soft mewls.

Harry was bigger than she had expected. Seeing him naked had not helped her appreciate his true size in the same way that having her hands wrapped around his massive girth did. She started with slow, long strokes. She didn’t know what she was doing but Harry’s low groans bolstered her courage and she kept going. Every so often her long nails would rake across his sensitive skin, drawing a low, needy moan from his lips. His tip was soaked within seconds and the precum leaking out of him coated the skin of her palms, easing her journey up and down his shaft. She instinctively sped up. Her eyes widened when Harry’s hands shifted from her waist to her chest and sank into the softness of her bosom. 

“’arry!” Fleur gasped. Her rosy nipples pebbled and poked through the thin lace of her bra. She was wearing too much, far too much. It was too late to take anything off though and she kept going, slowly guiding Harry to his climax. 

The combination of her clumsy but enthusiastic pumping, the feel of her breasts under his fingers, and the fact that he had been too busy to take care of himself in the past few weeks proved too much for Harry to overcome. He was close to the edge within minutes, groaning desperately into the hickey he had sucked on her creamy skin. 

“Fleur, I’m gonna-”

“It’s okay, mon amour,” Fleur urged. She gently dragged her thumb’s nail down the length of his cock. “Cum for me,” she cooed softly. She sped up further, going as fast as the limited space would allow. “I want your seed, ‘arry,” she breathed, infusing every word with the magic of her Allure.

Harry exploded without warning, coating her slender fingers and hands with his arousal. He groaned as Fleur pushed through his orgasm, continuing to slowly pump his throbbing cock even as he spilled his seed on her cloak. It ran down her legs, leaving thick white trails on the dark fabric.

“Better?” Fleur whispered. She kept on pumping, only allowing him to pull away once he was limp in her hands. 

“Much,” Harry murmured. His cheeks were maroon and he had a silly grin on his face. It was the best he had felt in a long, long time. He watched happily as Fleur licked her hands clean and wiped them on her cloak. It took Fleur bending and helping him dress to bring him back to his senses.

“Let me clean that,” Harry murmured, finally noticing the streaks of cum clinging to her clothes.

“I got it.” Fleur pulled out her wand and cast an unfamiliar spell. The liquid dried within seconds, leaving behind inconspicuous stains. “I shall clean it tonight. We are already late, we should leave,” she said, giggling as she exited the broom cupboard and pulled Harry out with him.

“Fleur?” Harry said quietly as they walked down the hallway to Professor McGonagall’s office. “Thank you.”

“Do I thank you every time you take care of me, mon amour?”

“Yes,” Harry grinned. “Loudly.”

“Hush!” Fleur blushed. “You do not have to thank me. It was my pleasure. You are… you are delicious,” she admitted shyly. She raised her hand and rapped her knuckles on the shut door of the office before Harry could say anything. The door swung open and she practically ran inside.

Harry followed her, grinning from ear to ear.

“You’re late,” Professor McGonagall said without looking up from the book she was reading. She placed it gently on her desk and rested her palms on the open pages before looking up at her students. “These are not regular classes but I want you to remember that I can still assign detention, Potter.”

“Sorry, professor!” Fleur chimed in before Harry could speak. “I fell asleep and Harry did not wish to wake me.”

She shifted slightly and moved behind Harry so the stained part of her cloak was covered. Professor McGonagall had a supernatural knack for detecting lies. She wondered if the woman was an accomplished Legilimens. She had never felt someone probing her mind but her papa had told her that extremely skilled Legilimens could invade a mind without being detected. She suppressed a shudder at the thought. 

She would not, Fleur reminded herself. Professor McGonagall was the most honorable woman she had met and she was certain such tricks were beneath the stern woman.

This time, however, the Transfiguration professor simply smiled and nodded.

“How are you, Miss Delacour?” she asked, shutting the book and placing it in the top drawer of her desk. 

“Doing better, professor,” Fleur murmured. She and Harry waited until Professor McGonagall had gestured to the chairs in front of her desk before taking their seats. “Thank you for the care package. My maman and papa send their thanks as well. They rest easy knowing you are taking care of their daughter,” Fleur said formally. 

“Well, I have tried to take care of Potter here for three years now,” McGonagall said dryly. “Mothering you is much easier than keeping your boyfriend out of trouble, Miss Delacour.”

“I take offense to that,” Harry muttered under his breath. He yelped when Fleur elbowed his side and nodded reluctantly.

“I hope you’ve been paying attention, Potter. See how simple things are when you do the thing I tell you to instead of running in the opposite direction?”

“I only did that once.”

Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow.

“Fine. A handful of times.”

“As much as I would enjoy pointing out all the times you went against my explicit instructions or advice, we are on a strict schedule. After we are done here, you and Miss Delacour will go down and meet Hagrid. He needs someone to help him take care of the two remaining Blast-Ended Skrewts.”

Harry stared at his professor in stunned silence, wondering if she had lost her mind. 

“You want us to… to… take care of the remaining Blast-Ended Skrewts,” he choked out.

Hagrid had thankfully stopped subjecting them to the creatures after it was discovered they were cannibals and just as good at killing each other as they were at murdering those around them. Within a week their population had reduced to 2 creatures and Hagrid had to confine them to separate crates to stop them from killing each other. Thankfully, they moved on to less dangerous creatures and Harry had forgotten all about the nasty abominations until now. 

He knew Fleur was too proud to admit it so he decided to say it for us.

“I know Hagrid needs some help but is it alright if Fleur sits it out and continues the lesson with you? I should be enough. Taking care of them requires a lot of effort and Fleur needs to-”

“Potter,” McGonagall said, looking at him sternly over the top of her glasses. “We just had a conversation about trusting my instructions. I only have your and Miss Delacour’s best interests at heart.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Listen to me very carefully. You must study the Skrewts closely. Pay more attention to what Hagrid tells you than you do in class. Do you understand?” McGonagall asked, looking at both of them meaningfully. 

“Oui,” Fleur breathed, her eyes widening suddenly. 

“Professor-”

“Harry,” Fleur hissed, leaning close to him. “Every maze has obstacles. Remember the minotaur?”

“The monster that looked like a bull?”

“Yes. He guarded a maze too. Professor McGonagall is trying to help us!”

“Oh.” Harry nodded as realization dawned on him.

“Miss Delacour?” 

“Sorry, professor,” Fleur said, smiling at the older woman as she moved away from Harry. “We will help Professor Hagrid with his creatures.”

“Very well. Then it is detention for both of you for being late for today’s lesson. You will serve it by helping Professor Hagrid tend to the creatures under his care.” 

“We’re sorry, professor,” Harry and Fleur said together. Both sported identical grins on their faces. 

The eagle quill next to Professor McGonagall wrote down the details of their punishment on a piece of parchment. Once it was done it dropped down to the desk and the parchment floated across the table until it landed in front of Harry.

“Now that we have resolved the matter of your tardiness, let us move on to today’s lesson. I am limited in the aid I can render since I contributed to the design of the maze that you shall have to face.”

Harry nodded. Fleur leaned forward in her seat, eager not to miss a single word. She and Harry were separated only by three points. This meant Harry had to enter the maze first but she would only be three minutes behind him. Their friendly contest was still alive. She no longer cared who won as long as it was one of them. Cedric was still a concern but she discounted Krum. The Durmstrang champion would be entering the maze a full twelve minutes after her, and she considered that an insurmountable lead for herself and Harry. 

“The maze is still under construction but its basic design is now set in stone.” McGonagall bit her lip and she mulled over the notes she had written. She pulled the sheaves of paper towards her and slowly raked her gaze over each point to ensure she hadn’t forgotten anything. “You must think of it as a living being. It will change constantly between today and the day of the Task and during the Task itself. The movement is completely random and unpredictable. I tell you this to remind you that spending time watching the construction of the maze from a high vantage point in the castle or asking one of your friends to do so is an exercise in futility. The maze can only be solved in one way. From the inside.”

“The cup will be in the center, oui?”

“Yes, Miss Delacour.”

“We should do that trick with the string,” Harry murmured. His eyes were focused on the parchment in front of him and his brow was furrowed as he mulled over the obstacles facing him in the Third Task. “Makes it easier to get out once we have the cup.”

“Also makes it easier for the others to follow us,” Fleur pointed out. 

“Right. What about a magical trail of some kind?”

“Mister Potter. Miss Delacour.”

“Yes, professor?” Harry and Fleur asked, turning away from each other and towards their professor. 

“I must remind you that there can be only one winner of the Triwizard Tournament. I expect both of you to respect the spirit of the competition.”

“Don’t worry, professor,” Harry grinned. “We have our own little competition going on. Both of us want to win and will be competing in the Final Task separately.” 

“I am glad to hear that. Now, the maze itself will not be straightforward to navigate. As I’ve mentioned, the pathways will continually change so it is more correct to presume that every champion will be trying to navigate their own unique maze. Your paths may cross with other champions, however, and you must be prepared for aggression from them.”

“We’ve been dueling every night,” Fleur said proudly. They took it easy, settling only for one or two rounds that resembled a dance more than it did an actual fight. But practice was practice and they were both getting very good at facing other witches and wizards. 

“It’s our version of date night,” Harry chimed in shamelessly.

Fleur hissed and elbowed Harry’s side.

“Remember that fights in the maze won’t end with a kiss, Potter,” McGonagall said with a wry smile. She spent a brief second wondering why Severus had to be such a sourpuss. Except for him, every single teacher (herself included) found the couple in front of her delightful. She chuckled as she recalled the spirited argument between Pomona and Septima over the appearance of the future Potter babies. 

“Professor?” Harry asked hesitantly. He had never seen her laugh. It seemed like he was intruding on a private moment he had no right to witness.

“Yes, Potter?”

“Are you alright?”

“Hmm?” McGonagall looked up sharply and realized that Harry and Fleur were both staring at her. “Yes, I’m fine,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “The other champions will not be your only worry,” she continued quickly. “You will also face creatures and magical traps.”

“Plants?” Harry asked, thinking back to the maze that the teachers had designed to protect the Philosopher’s Stone.

“Certainly. I know Pomona was consulted while the maze was being designed but I am not certain what her exact contribution was.”

“Right. So we just keep doing what we’re doing now. Dueling every evening and spending our free time in the library.”

“Indeed, Potter. I did not intend for tonight’s meeting to be a lesson so I have nothing more to share with you.”

“Maybe a pep talk, professor?” Fleur asked, suddenly nervously. One of her hands found Harry’s and the other toyed with the stained hem of her cloak. 

“Miss Delacour, your brilliance is breathtaking. It is second only to your bravery,” McGonagall said with a proud smile. “My only regret is that I will not have the opportunity to teach you formally as you would have made a splendid Gryffindor.”

“Thank you,” Fleur whispered, blushing heavily.

“Anything for me?” Harry grinned. He stood and gently tugged on Fleur’s hand to pull her to her feet.

“Try not to get killed, Potter? I’d hate to surrender the Quidditch Cup next year,” McGonagall said tartly. She passed bronze pocket watches to both of them once they were standing. “You are allowed to take any magical item you possess to the maze. These pocket watches are enchanted to give you true sight. Open them and they will dispel the effects of any spell around you. They both hold three charges, so use them carefully.”

Harry and Fleur nodded. They both picked one of the closed watches and pocketed them carefully.

“If you have any other magical items that you think might be useful,” McGonagall said, looking at Harry pointedly. “I’d recommend carrying them into the maze.”

“Understood, professor.”

“Professor Hagrid is waiting for both of you. Off you go.”

“Thank you, professor.” Fleur shot the stern witch a grateful smile and allowed Harry to lead her out of the office.

Notes:

Ay! Flowerpot is finally heating up as Harry and Fleur are getting up to some lewd, lewd stuff. I bet a lot of you are pleased with it right now. It has been a long time coming, I know. But it's made all the more sweeter now that its finally here! I envisioned this story as a slowburn RomCom and so far, for me at least, it is hitting all the right notes. We need more of Innocent! Fleur, don't you think? I'm thinking of writing her as in that avatar in a future long story or maybe a short one. We shall see. As always, your thoughts are always welcome!