Fleur De Lis Chapter 12. (Patreon)

Content Warnings: Snogging, Petting, Teasing.

“Oh no!”

Harry stopped fiddling with his bow tie and turned to look at Ron at the sound of the loud groan. His lips twitched for a second before his mind reasserted control over his body.

“It’s not that bad, Ron,” Harry murmured. He turned and glared at Dean when the tall Gryffindor passed Ron and chuckled at the redhead’s state. It was just as bad as it looked but Harry had no intention of letting anyone make things worse by laughing at his appearance.

All three of them (Seamus had left before he had returned from his walk with Gabrielle and Hermione) were dressed in tuxedos of different colors. Ron was the only odd one out. He was dressed in garish green dress robes with a frilly lace collar and bits of lace attached to his wrists and around his waist. He seemed like a character plucked straight out of a Shakespearean play.

“It is,” Ron moaned, plucking at his collar. “Lavender is going to change her mind. There’s no way she goes to the Ball with me dressed like this.”

Harry walked over to his friend and studied his reflection in the vanity’s mirror, only to admit to himself that Ron had a point. Lavender Brown cared about appearances a lot. At least Ron had managed to tame his hair and was otherwise presentable, which meant the only thing they had to fix was his dress robe.

“You know, if I didn’t have to open the Ball with Fleur I would have happily let you take my suit. Gabrielle told me Fleur has been doing all sorts of things to prepare for the Ball. After everything that she has sacrificed to help me, I need to make sure I don’t embarrass her tonight.” Harry clapped Ron’s shoulder, smiling sympathetically as the redhead nodded morosely.

“You can tell Lavender you’re sick. Hop into bed. I’ll go downstairs and tell her you have a fever,” Dean offered, adjusting the cuff links of his suit. “Who knows, she might decide to spend the night feeding you soup and taking care of you. Birds love that kind of stuff.”

“Or.” Harry gently squeezed Ron’s shoulder, stopping him from even considering Dean’s offer. “You don’t make Lavender miss the Ball and we make minor adjustments to your dress robes to make them less… dramatic.”

“You can do that?” Ron perked up and turned to look at Harry with hopeful eyes.

“You know, since you’ve been so busy sucking Lavender’s face I’ve been forced to spend most of my time with three girls, one of whom is a French Veela who changes her outfits twice a day. I’ve picked up a few tricks,” Harry said with a smirk. Harry grabbed his wand from his dressing table and pressed it against the collar of Ron’s suit, carefully cutting away the lace frill with a spell.

“Is, uh, is Hermione okay?” Ron asked, clearing his throat to dispel the awkward silence.

Harry knew things were strained between the two although he had no idea why and had decided it wasn’t his place to interfere. He had his hands full with the Tournament and with making sure he didn’t make an ass of himself in front of Fleur and the rest of the school at the Ball. Even investigating Karkaroff had taken a backseat.

“Completely. I am the one who helps Gabrielle with her wardrobe malfunctions, mate. Gabrielle doesn’t bother with clothes when she’s with Hermione.” Harry smirked. He chuckled as Ron’s face turned the color of a beetroot and he started to grumble under his breath. “I know they’re a little heavy on their public displays of affection but you have no right to say anything to Mione, Ron. I’ve come across you and Lavender stumbling out of two different broom closets just this week alone.” Love (and lust) seemed very much in the air as the holidays approached. Mistletoe draped the ceilings, strategically placed in several different parts of the castle by the Twins. Things had gotten so bad that Filch had taken to chasing snogging couples with a broomstick in the hopes of whacking them on the head. Not that it was effective, Harry knew for a fact that many couples made it a game to see who could kiss for the longest before having to run away from an enraged Filch.

“That’s different,” Ron mumbled.

“No, it isn’t. Stop being a prat, Ron. There’s nothing wrong with what she’s doing with Gabrielle, just as there’s nothing wrong with you snogging Lavender in broom cupboards or even in our dormitory.” Harry gave Ron a look that said: ‘Yeah, I know’.

Harry fixed the cuffs on Ron’s dress as best he could before shifting his attention to all the lace attached to the suit’s waist.

“What about you and Fleur?”

“We’re just friends, Ron,” Harry said dismissively. He kept his voice low to ensure Dean and Neville couldn’t hear him. The words coming out of his mouth sounded unnatural and too much like a lie, even if it was technically the truth. Sure, he spent more time with Fleur than he did with any of his other friends. He had also never done things like cuddle Ron or Hermione under a blanket while stargazing on the castle grounds. But neither he nor Fleur seemed brave enough to put a label on what they were and after the near miss in Gabrielle’s loveshack, his determination to kiss his kinda-girlfriend was foiled at every turn by the castle making sure they never ended up under mistletoe like other couples.

He finished chopping all the lace from Ron’s dress robes and then stepped away, letting his friend examine the improved version in the mirror.

“The green clashes with my hair,” Ron said morosely.

“That it does. However, there’s nothing any of us can do about it now.” Dean passed out shot glasses full of firewhiskey to all of them, rolling his eyes when Neville politely declined. “Longbottom, you’ve spent the past week snogging Ginny on every couch in the Common Room. I think you’re a big boy who can handle a little alcohol,” Dean said, ignoring Ron’s grumbling. He grinned when Neville nodded nervously and swallowed the firewhiskey in a single gulp.

“Never thought you were the adventurous sort, Neville,” Harry teased, laughing as Neville doubled over, coughing and gasping for breath.

Dean chuckled and thumped his back.

“I’ll see you in the Great Hall, yeah? Lavender is waiting for you in the Common Room but I have to meet Fleur in the Atrium.” Harry patted Ron’s shoulder one last time before he walked away, leaving the redhead to keep fiddling away at his dress robes.

He made his way around Dean and Neville and down the circular stairs that led to the Common Room. The room was incredibly noisy and Harry slipped away unnoticed. He sighed as he stepped out of the warmth of Gryffindor Tower and into the cold corridor of the seventh floor. The chilly wind blowing through the open windows suddenly made him thankful for the heating charm built into his suit.

He just hoped Fleur had a similar mechanism built into her dress.

He hopped onto a staircase and let it carry him down to the already crowded Atrium. The Ball would officially open in fifteen minutes but it seemed that like him, a lot of people had decided not to wait. His eyes roved around, trying to find familiar faces. Angelina was in one corner making George empty his pockets. Parvati was ignoring her date and shooting daggers at the giggling Ravenclaw on Krum’s arm.

“You’re jealous of Sally too?” Hermione teased, poking Harry’s shoulder. “Fleur will be heartbroken.” She stayed in place until Harry had turned and enveloped her in a bear hug.

“I don’t think she’ll mind. We’d both prefer it if everyone keeps staring at Sally and Krum,” Harry shot back. He grinned and wrapped his arms around Hermione’s waist, pulling her closer. His eyes widened when he pulled away and properly took in Hermione’s appearance.

She looked absolutely nothing like her usual self. She was wearing a baby pink backless ball gown with a plunging neckline that left her shoulders bare and teased with just a hint of cleavage. Her unruly brown hair was now sleek and neatly gathered up in an elegant bun on the top of her head. She was wearing glass heels and had a small clutch dangling from her left arm.

“You look like a princess,” Harry murmured, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

“Careful, Potter. Or you’ll have to deal with two jealous Delacours,” Gabrielle teased as she walked up to Hermione and locked arms with her.

“Don’t worry. She’s all yours.” Harry smirked and pulled himself free from Hermione’s arms. Gabrielle was dressed in a powder blue gown that was surprisingly conservative. Its skirt flared out and swept the floor as she walked. It wasn’t backless, had a straight neckline, and was held up by two thin straps that looped around Gabrielle’s shoulders. Her silvery hair flowed freely down her back and over her shoulders.

“Strange choice of clothes, Delacour.”

“Well, Potter, I didn’t really care what I wore because it won’t be staying on for too long,” Gabrielle shot back. She winked at Hermione who blushed and averted her gaze.

Harry rolled his eyes fondly. Hermione and Gabrielle finding true happiness with each other was probably the best thing that had happened as a result of the stupid Tournament.

“Where’s Fleur? We have to open the Ball in ten minutes.” Harry clenched his fists, forcing himself to steady his breathing. It was just a dance, he reminded himself.

A dance with a girl he liked a lot in front of students, teachers, and Ministry officials.

“Behind you,” Fleur said softly.

Hermione pulled Gabrielle away when Harry turned, leaving him alone with Fleur in the relatively secluded corner of the Atrium.

“Uh…” Harry’s mouth dropped open and he stared at his date with wide eyes until Fleur giggled nervously and reached out with a finger, pushing it under his chin and shutting his mouth. “You look amazing,” Harry whispered hoarsely once he had found his voice again.

Calling her amazing was the biggest understatement he had made in his life. Beautiful. Angelic. Stunning. Those were some of the other words that came to Harry’s mind as he stared at her, unable to pull his gaze away from her face.

Amazing seemed wholly inadequate but his tongue wouldn’t cooperate. He gulped, trying to soothe his suddenly dry throat.

“Beautiful,” he finally whispered, clenching his fists to stop himself from acting like a randy goat in the middle of the Atrium.

She was wearing a white ball gown. Except, it wasn’t exactly white. Like her hair it was silvery and it shimmered, catching light and turning into a variety of different colours. The flickering candlelight flooding the Atrium made it look like she was literally wrapped in a rainbow.

The gown hugged her curves, covering her body while leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. It was held up by two thin silver straps that were barely visible.

“Look,” Fleur whispered, holding out her left foot to show him her forest green heels that matched his eyes perfectly. “Gabrielle bought them for me.”

Harry blushed, knowing exactly why Gabrielle had done that. The shy smile on Fleur’s face told him she knew the reason too.

Fleur’s hair was longer than her sister’s and she had secured it in a simple but graceful bun. A few stray strands of silvery platinum hair were free from the hairdo and cascaded down, framing her face perfectly.

“I… uh… I got something for you,” Harry murmured, reaching into the pocket of his trousers to pull out the small box inside. He opened it, showing Fleur the exquisitely crafted corsage of white lilies that Lavender had made for him.

“It’s beautiful,” Fleur whispered with a quiet gasp. She reached out and carefully plucked the corsage from the box and slipped it onto her left wrist. “Did George make this for you too?” she teased, locking her arm with the one Harry had offered.

“No. This was from Lavender. It seems everyone in my House is really invested in our relationship.”

“Well, then we shall have to give them a good show, yes?” Fleur asked.

“One dance.”

That was what they had agreed to. It had been a massive relief to learn that Fleur wasn’t much of a dancer either and she hated attention just as much as he did. They wanted to enjoy the Yule Ball but on their own terms, away from all the prying eyes.

“One dance,” Fleur nodded, confirming their deal. They’d open the dance since that was required from them as Champions but then she had every intention of going away with Harry to somewhere more secluded so they could enjoy the rest of their night in peace.

Fleur lapsed into silence as they walked over to stand behind Krum and Sally. Cedric and Cho stood in front of them, right behind the closed doors.

Fleur rested her head on Harry’s shoulder, trying her best to stop worrying. She chewed her lower lip when she was nervous and she did not want to ruin the expertly applied makeup her sister had spent an hour on.

“It’ll be okay,” Harry whispered, instinctively sensing her nervousness. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his chest, shielding her from the gaze of the people around them. Some lustful. Some angry. All of them envious.

“What if I trip and make a fool of myself?” Fleur asked, resting her hand right over Harry’s heartbeat. The feel of its steady thumping under her palm calmed her down immediately.

Harry knew what she was worried about. She had come to Hogwarts to prove herself, to show the world that she was more than just a pretty Veela. That the stereotype that Veelas were airheads who used their beauty to find rich husbands was utter horseshit.

Which meant she had to be careful in everything she did and said.

“Well, then I’ll loudly apologize for stepping on your toes. The only reason someone as graceful as you can fall is because you have a bad partner.” Harry winked.

“But then everyone will talk about you.” Fleur frowned. How much was he willing to sacrifice for her happiness?

“It won’t be the first time. There were a few months back in my Second Year when everyone thought I was a murderer. People whispering that I’m a bad boyfriend who didn’t bother to learn how to dance properly isn’t the worst thing they’ll have said about me.”

Suddenly feeling brave he turned and pressed his lips into her hair, kissing her head. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, inhaling the vanilla scent that clung to her hair. When he pulled away and opened his eyes, all his fears had melted away.

“You’re not,” Fleur said firmly. Her cheeks were pink but she had a determined expression on her face.

“I’m not?”

“I mean you won’t be a bad boyfriend,” Fleur corrected herself hastily, her blush deepening. “You’ll make a girl very happy.”

“Are you happy?” Harry asked softly.

“I’m happier than I’ve ever been,” Fleur whispered and rested her head on his shoulder again.

They watched as the doors flung open and Professor McGonagall walked through them, studying each Champion and their date in turn. Her thin lips curved into a small smile when her eyes finally rested on Harry and Fleur.

“Is everyone ready?”

“Yes,” Cedric said, while Krum simply nodded.

Harry glanced at Fleur who reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. She laced her fingers with his before they both nodded together.

“Good. You will walk into the ballroom and onto the raised stage. Assume your positions. The music will start once the hall is full. After one dance other couples can and will join you on the dance floor.”

Professor McGonagall turned, her maroon dress robes swishing around her. She led the three couples into the transformed Great Hall, guiding them onto the raised dais in the middle of the room.

The Great Hall had been altered to the point that it was nearly unrecognizable. While the teacher’s table at the top of the large room still remained, the four House tables had been removed. Most of the space previously occupied by them was now filled by the dance floor. Arranged around that were small round tables covered with white sheets. The candles that normally illuminated the hall had been replaced by fairy lights that pulsed and changed colors every few seconds. The entire hall had been converted into a Christmas wonderland, complete with ice sculptures and sprigs of mistletoe hanging over every table.

The plush red chairs around the tables were quickly filled by students from Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang, all of whom turned their attention towards the stage and the champions standing on them.

Harry pushed his own fear to the back of his mind when he felt Fleur shiver in his arms. He tightened his arms around her waist and gently pulled her closer. He reached out and grabbed her hand, threading their fingers together. Their joined hands moved as one, adopting the starting position just like Professor McGonagall had taught them.

“Just one dance, yeah?” Harry murmured, giving her a reassuring smile as the band close to the teacher’s table started to play a slow melody.

“I can do it,” Fleur whispered in an attempt to bolster her own courage.

“Of course, you can,” Harry whispered back as he started to lead her around the dance floor. “You, baby girl…” he teased, using the nickname he had started to use for her in public ever since his proposal. “You are absolutely phenomenal. You can do everything.”

“I can’t swim,” Fleur pointed out, her cheeks turning pink as Harry pulled her closer and her breasts pushed against his firm chest. If her reputation and Beauxbatons’ honor weren’t on the line she would have dragged him away from the crowded hall to the first deserted hallway with mistletoe she could find just so she could feel his lips on hers and his hands on her chest.

She didn’t know if it was her sister’s constant teasing or the moment of intimacy they had shared before Snape and Karkaroff had rudely interrupted them, but she was tired of trying to hide her feelings for him.

“I’ll teach you,” Harry said as they passed Cedric and Cho.

The dance was thankfully short and ended with Harry dipping her before pulling her flush against his chest. He held her in a way that had her cheeks flaming and left her breathless.

Suddenly she wished they were the only dancers in the hall and didn’t have all these pesky layers of clothes between them.

They climbed down from the stage to thunderous applause. Fleur grinned bashfully when Gabrielle winked at her as they passed the table she and Hermione were sitting on. The band paused for a minute before starting to play another, faster song.

Everyone took that as their cue to join the dance floor and Harry spied Lavender and Ginny dragging their respective dates to the stage. “What’re you looking at?” Harry asked, turning his attention to Fleur.

“They look so perfect together,” Fleur replied, pointing at Gabrielle and Hermione. The shorter blonde was leading her girlfriend across the dance floor while Hermione blushed and giggled. Everyone around them was staring at the happy couple but they kept dancing without a care in the world.

“If the couple of times we’ve accidentally walked in on them is any indication, they are perfect together,” Harry murmured with a smirk. His attention was pulled away from Hermione by the sound of a throat clearing behind them.

He turned, only to come face to face with Percy. “Percy,” Harry said, faking a smile. “What’re you doing here?”

“Mr. Crouch has entrusted me with the responsibility of representing him,” Percy replied, puffing out his chest. “He’s a busy man and I’m honored to shoulder some of his responsibilities.

“You mean he’s a joyless fart who will explode if he’s around this much happiness,” Harry muttered under his breath.

“What?” Percy stared at him over his horn-rimmed glasses.

“Nothing,” Fleur replied, elbowing Harry’s side. “Did you need something from us Monsieur?”

“You must sit with me, Harry.” Percy pointed to one of the only empty tables in the hall. “I have a lot to teach you. As Hogwarts’ Champion, behavior of a certain standard is expected from you. You cannot embarrass Mister Crouch or the Ministry,” Percy said pompously.

“You know Perce, that sounds great but the Cup didn’t choose me as the Champion for Hogwarts. That’s Cedric. Cedric Diggory. I’m sure he’d love to learn from you.” Harry bit his lip to stop himself from laughing.

“You can still-”

“Plus, I have to go back to Fleur’s carriage with her. She forgot her potion and she’s highly allergic to pompousnitwits.” Harry nudged Fleur who faked a cough and pretended to be suitably distressed.

“Pompa-what?!”

“It’s a French thing. Sorry Perce!” Harry ran out of the Great Hall, pulling Fleur behind him.

“Pompous nitwit?” Fleur giggled.

“I had to get out somehow. Trust me, you do not want to spend the entire night trapped with Percy.”

“Well, we’re out.” Fleur bit her lip as she looked around at the dark and empty Atrium. “Do you want to explore the castle grounds with me?”

Harry turned to look out the open doors. The courtyard was brightly lit and dotted with ice sculptures. He could hear rustling and quiet moaning from the bushes closest to them.

“I think some people had the same idea as us and skipped the Ball entirely,” Harry murmured. “Let’s not disturb them. It’s been days since we’ve been to our spot.”

“Nobody will bother us there tonight.” Fleur beamed and nodded in approval. The skies were clear and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. The perfect night for stargazing and maybe even something more.

Fleur wrapped her arms around Harry’s bicep and rested her head on his shoulder, allowing him to lead her out into the grounds and towards the lake.

They avoided the well-lit path, not wanting to run into anyone else. Harry could spy Snape in the distance, dragging half-dressed couples out of bushes and from behind sculptures. He changed direction slightly, deciding to give the foul-tempered Potions Master a wide berth.

Fleur stayed silent until they reached the large oak tree by the lake. It was thankfully empty and Harry took off his jacket and carefully spread it on the grassy ground under the tree, ignoring Fleur’s protests.

“The grass is wet. It’ll stain your dress,” Harry murmured, helping her sit down on the jacket.

“Now it’ll ruin your jacket,” Fleur said with a pout, scooting over to make space for Harry.

“I don’t mind. I don’t want to spoil that dress. You look really good in it.” Harry gently took Fleur’s feet in his lap and pulled off her heels. Fleur couldn’t help the needy whine that escaped her lips when Harry started to gently massage her aching soles.

“You…” Fleur blushed as she rested her gaze on Harry. She couldn’t honestly tell him she liked him in his jacket when he looked so much better without it. The white shirt he wore underneath him fit him perfectly, accentuating his firm chest and the lean, well-defined muscles of his arms. His biceps flexed as he massaged her feet and Fleur found herself staring at him shamelessly.

“I?”

“You look good too,” Fleur finished shyly. She bit her lower lip to stop herself from making any more embarrassing sounds.

Harry chuckled and lapsed into silence, both of them content with enjoying each other’s company.

“I missed this,” Harry murmured. “Meeting in empty classrooms and Gabrielle’s loveshack is fun but this is…”

“Better,” Fleur whispered, finishing Harry’s thought.

“Yeah. It’s perfect.”

“Not really,” Fleur said before she could stop herself. Her frustration had only grown after seeing all the happy couples in the Hall and in the grounds outside, and it finally bubbled over. “There’s no mistletoe.”

Harry slowly turned to look at her, unable to believe his ears.

Did she just-

“I’m sorry!” Fleur squeaked, her eyes widening as the implication of her words finally sunk in. She had imagined an entire life in her head with him without even checking if he actually liked her!

“Mistletoe, huh?”

“It isn’t really Yule without it, oui?” Fleur murmured, her accent growing thicker. She shivered. Her lower lip was trapped between her teeth and she chewed on it nervously, waiting for Harry’s reaction.

“You’re right.” Harry pulled his wand out of the pocket of his trousers and pointed it at a branch above them. The twig and the leaves on it trembled as Harry used a spell to transform them to resemble mistletoe. “Hermione taught me that. She’s been using it to get kisses from Gabrielle everywhere possible,” Harry said with a quiet chuckle.

“It is tradition to kiss under the mistletoe,” Fleur whispered. Her throat was dry and her heart was pounding in her chest but she couldn’t stop herself from leaning closer to Harry.

“It is.” Harry reached out and gently caressed Fleur’s pink cheek with the back of his hand. He frowned when she shivered again.

“Cold?”

“Oui. I cast a heating charm on the dress but-”

“I told you to wear a jacket, didn’t I? Silly girl,” Harry murmured affectionately, chuckling at Fleur’s pouting.

“I was hoping you’d lend me yours.”

“Fleur, if I keep lending you my clothes I’ll have nothing left to wear.”

“I-” Fleur's words died in her throat and she squealed loudly when Harry grabbed her shoulder and gently pushed her down on the jacket spread over the ground. Her eyes widened when he climbed over her and straddled her waist, covering her body with his and enveloping her with the warmth radiating from him.

“Better?”

Fleur had to remind herself to breathe. Then she had to remind herself that she had a tongue and had to speak.

“Oui,” she whispered, her breasts straining against her dress as her breathing grew heavy.

“If you promise to stop stealing my clothes I’ll get you a Quidditch jersey,” Harry teased, shifting until she was trapped under his body. “They’re very warm.”

“A Quidditch jersey or your Quidditch jersey?” Fleur questioned, a needy whine escaping her throat when Harry gently freed her lower lip.

“Will there be a difference?”

“Your jersey has your name on the back.” Fleur’s voice lowered until it was a barely audible whisper. Her cheeks were dark red but she soldiered on, determined to finally bare her soul to Harry. “And it will smell of you.”

“You can have mine if you promise to wear it to the Great Hall every day.”

“Every day?!” Fleur gasped loudly and pouted playfully. Her plump red lips curved into an ‘O’, begging for Harry’s attention.

Fleur moaned softly when Harry grabbed her hands and pinned them to the ground on either side of her head, lacing their fingers together. He had kept his gaze locked with hers the entire time he was on top of her and Fleur found herself getting lost in the gorgeous pools of emerald green.

“I’m a jealous man, Madame Delacour,” Harry teased back. “I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

“How can I be yours if you haven’t even kissed me yet, Monsieur?” Fleur breathed.

“Let me correct that.” With that, Harry bent and gently pressed his lips against hers.

Fleur’s eyes finally fluttered shut but she could have sworn she could see stars as Harry claimed her lips. The weight of his body pinned her to the ground, his comforting presence banishing her shyness and all her fears. She playfully struggled against his grip, only for Harry to growl into her lips and firmly pin her hands in place.

Gabrielle had always teased her about her silly dream of following the old Veela tradition of finding the perfect partner and mating with them for life.

It didn’t seem as silly now that said partner was on top of her, finally claiming her as his.

Harry playfully nipped at her soft lower lip, bruising it and making her whine needily. She arched her back, pressing her large bust against his chest, both their bodies acting on pure instinct.

Harry lazily swiped his tongue against her lips, begging for entrance. It was promptly granted and Fleur moaned into his mouth as his tongue pushed into hers. He coaxed her tongue into a playful duel, only pulling away when his chest started to burn from the lack of air.

Fleur slowly opened her eyes as he pulled away, breathing heavily. Her lips were swollen and bruised, aching in the most pleasant way imaginable. A thin coat of saliva covered them and they gleamed in the dim starlight. A thin trickle of drool connected her lips with Harry’s and he seemed unwilling to pull away too far and break the connection between them.

“Are you mine now?” Harry asked, his voice hoarse and his eyes full of unfulfilled desire.

“Will you give me two jerseys?”

Harry grinned and leaned down to kiss her forehead. “You drive a hard bargain, princess. If that’s the price, I’ll pay it.”

“Then yes. I am yours.” A shiver ran down Fleur’s spine and something awakened in the Veela.

Fleur moaned softly as Harry buried his face in the crook of her neck and slowly kissed down her creamy skin, making his way to her pulse point. He clamped his lips on it and just as he was about to sink his teeth into her soft skin to mark her as his the sound of rustling in the bushes behind them drew their attention.

“What was that?” Fleur asked. Given her current position, it was impossible for her to turn and look at the source of the noise.

Harry pushed himself off Fleur, ignoring her disappointed groan. He plucked his wand from the ground and extended his arm, ready to defend them in case they were attacked.

Keeping his eyes on the thicket of trees that formed the boundary of the Forbidden Forest, he reached out with his free hand and helped Fleur to her feet.

She pulled her wand from a slit in her dress and adopted the same stance as Harry, both of them actively scanning for threats.

“Let’s find out.”

Notes:

All that buildup has finally paid off and Flowerpot is finally here! I can promise you, their relationship is going to be well-worth the wait. It's going to be steamy, it's going to be lewd and Harry's going to spend the next chapter teaching Fleur how to swim. Bet a lot of you will look forward to that! Gabimione continue to be the best couple ever and I swear they deserve a prize for setting these two idiots up. There'll be two more updates this week, new chapters of Tenebrae Et Lux and A Flame Awakened!