Fleur De Lis Chapter 13. (Patreon)

Content Warnings: Snogging, Semi-Public, Teasing.

“What do you think that was?” Harry asked through gritted teeth. Part of him knew he was being overly optimistic when he thought he’d get to enjoy an uncomplicated night together with Fleur where absolutely nothing happened. That simply wasn’t how his life worked.

“Perhaps it is your professor?” Fleur suggested. She sounded just as frustrated as him. She raised her free hand in the air. Sparks danced along her slender fingertips and the air sizzled as a large fireball burst into life in the center of her palm, flooding their surroundings with light.

“Snape doesn’t lurk,” Harry replied. He focused on his breathing and forced himself to calm down. The interruption wasn’t the end of the world, he reminded himself and his stiffening cock. The tightness in his pants was uncomfortable and his disappointment immeasurable but he’d live. “If he had found us he’d have dragged me back to the castle and tried to expel me for forcing myself on you or something.”

“You did not force yourself on me!” Fleur exclaimed, sounding extremely indignant. “The climbing on top of me was - how do you put it - very much wanted!”

“Oh? You want me on top of you?” Harry teased, trying to break the tension.

“Oui,” Fleur answered shyly. Her cheeks were pink and her heart was hammering in her chest but she knew it was now or never. Harry needed to know how she felt, or he’d never have the courage to act. She knew she wasn’t brave enough to make the first move. She chewed her lip worriedly as she stared at the trees in front of her. Things had gone quiet after the initial rustling.

“Do you think it could be that ’orrible woman?”

“Skeeter?” Harry frowned. The reporter had backed off in the run-up to the Yule Ball but he knew it was simply a ruse to lull them into a false sense of security. “I hope not. That interview with Draco was pure filth. As if Malfoy knows anything about our relationship. And if she catches us here…”

Harry shook his head and cautiously approached the forest, determined to stop Skeeter before she could make her escape.

“Cover me.”

“I will always have your back, Harry Potter.”

Harry grinned. He didn’t have to look back to know Fleur was right by his side, ready to hex any threat to him into oblivion. That was, of course, if she didn’t set the poor creature on fire first.

Harry paused and raised his wand at the sound of another twig snapping. Whoever had interrupted them was still in the forest, which meant they were either very brave or very stupid. Surely the person could see them approaching and see the fireball dancing on Fleur’s hand? Anyone who was remotely sane would have realized how risky it was to stick around and would have left long ago.

“Be careful,” Fleur requested as they walked into the forest. Large trees and their dense canopies immediately surrounded them, blocking out the light from the moon and stars. Fleur concentrated on the flames in her palm and they burned brighter, flooding their surroundings with light and warmth.

“I don’t think it’s a trap,” Harry whispered, studying the haphazard footsteps in the soil. He followed them deeper into the forest, keeping a sharp eye out for any signs of an attack.

“Perhaps the person who put your name in the Goblet is frustrated with the ease with which you overcame the dragon. Maybe they’ve come to finish the job themselves.”

“Merlin, I hope not. This will be horrible timing.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to die without kissing you at least one more time,” Harry replied without missing a beat.

Fleur laughed and Harry’s blush deepened.

“We are going to do it more than once. A lot more, Harry,” she teased back, her electric blue eyes twinkling with happiness.

“We are?” Harry rasped. His throat was dry and his pants were uncomfortably tight. He knew they were in a potentially dangerous situation but all he could concentrate on was the gentle swish of Fleur’s gown as she walked, drawing his attention to her slender hips. He wanted to grab them with his hands, push her up onto a bench, bury his face in her-

“Harry?”

“Hmm?”

“I asked if my Veela nature bothered you.”

“Not in the slightest,” Harry responded. “Why should it? I won’t love you any less just because you’re different.”

His blush deepened when he realized what he’d just said. “I mean, when I do,” he corrected himself hastily. “If things come to love, I won’t love you any less just because you’re a Veela.”

“When… if it comes to love know that I will give you my heart,” Fleur whispered, biting her lower lip nervously. In truth, she was convinced he already had it. She went to sleep thinking of him and woke up dreaming about him. Her heart had already acknowledged reality, it was just taking her mind some time to catch up.

“I-” Harry paused and nearly dropped his wand in shock at the sight of the person rushing at him through a clump of trees. Fleur growled and nearly set Crouch on fire but Harry grabbed her wrist and pushed her hand out of the way, causing the fireball to harmlessly lob itself into the damp soil of the forest floor.

“What is the judge doing here? And why was he spying on us?!” Fleur asked, breathing heavily. She had disliked the man ever since their encounter after the Quidditch World Cup and subsequent interactions had not improved her opinion of him.

“More importantly, what happened to him?” Harry asked with a frown.

Mr. Crouch’s waxy face came into focus as they moved closer and their lit wands illuminated his features. He was extremely haggard, with messy hair and an unkempt beard. His mustache hadn’t been trimmed for some time and wisps of hair now fell over his lips and he had massive dark circles under his eyes. He was thin, thinner than was normal even for him. What truly disturbed Harry wasn’t his appearance, but the fact that the man was walking in circles and talking to himself, utterly oblivious of their presence.

“-had to do it, no choice-”

“I don’t think he wanted to spy on us, Fleur.”

“-what a mistake-”

“Why is he here?”

“-what if someone finds out-”

“I don’t know.” Harry frowned and stepped closer. “Mr. Crouch?” he called out softly, hoping his voice would snap him out of his reverie.

Crouch ignored him and kept walking in circles, talking to himself.

“-her dying wish-”

“Your strange friend said his boss was sick, oui?”

“Not my friend and I don’t think Percy meant this kind of sickness,” Harry guessed. “I’m pretty sure he thinks Mr. Crouch has a cold or something. Why is he here? Why isn’t he at home or in St. Mungo’s? Whatever this is, it’s serious.”

Harry froze as Crouch lunged forward and grabbed his shoulders. The man leaned and stared at Harry with watery blue eyes and a desperate expression on his face.

“You have to tell him! You have to tell him! I made a terrible, terrible mistake,” Crouch shouted. He went rigid when Fleur pushed her wand under his chin, the pressure of the wood pressing into his neck pulling the man back to reality.

“Back off,” Fleur hissed, her voice laced with anger. “I told you I won’t let you threaten us a second time, didn’t I?”

“W-Where am I? Who are you?” Crouch blinked in confusion, his gaze lowering to the wand pressed against his throat. “I’d advise you to put away your wand before I have you thrown into Azkaban for threatening a Ministry official young lady!” The moment of lucidity disappeared just as fast as it had appeared. “A-Azkaban!” He screeched, his bloodshot eyes widening. “Should never have taken him. It’s too late. It’s too late!” he moaned, collapsing onto the forest floor with a wail.

“He’s mad,” Fleur said in a horrified whisper.

“Something happened. He was perfectly fine during the First Task. Someone did this to him.”

“Do you think it’s the same person who put your name in the Goblet?” Fleur asked, unable to pull her eyes away from Crouch. He was curled up on the ground, rocking back and forth while talking to himself.

“Maybe. Crouch definitely seems like the kind of person who’d want to investigate something like that.” Harry glanced at the broken man by his feet with pity. He wasn’t a particularly good man but he didn’t deserve what had happened to him. No one did. “Maybe he found something he wasn’t supposed to.”

“What do we do?”

“We need to get Dumbledore-”

Crouch shot up to his feet and grabbed Harry’s shoulders again. “Dumbledore! Get Dumbledore! He needs to know!”

Harry calmly pressed his wand against the man’s chest.

“Stupefy.” The jet of red light crossed the tiny distance and slammed into Crouch’s chest. The man froze and fell to the ground with a loud THUD.

“Why’d you do that?” Fleur hissed. It was cold and completely out of character for him to stun someone just because they were mad.

“Whoever attacked him can still be around,” Harry explained, quickly looking around to make sure they were alone. “The racket he’s making might attract whoever did this to him to our location. We need to get him back to the castle safely so he can be treated. I stunned him to protect him, both from himself and from the person who attacked him.”

Fleur nodded, scolding herself in her mind for doubting Harry, even if it was for a brief second. His actions made complete tactical sense. In the event they were attacked they wouldn’t be able to protect Crouch in his current condition. Stunning him was the easiest way to keep him safe.

“What do we do now?”

“I’ll wait here. You need to go back to the castle and get Professor Dumbledore. There has to be a reason Crouch kept asking for him.”

“Bad idea.” Fleur shook her head. “You think his shouting has attracted unwanted attention. What if whoever attacked him is waiting for us to split up so they can ambush the person who waits with him?”

Harry tightened his grip on his wand and his knuckles whitened. He looked all around them once more, ready to hex whoever he spotted.

“You won’t be able to see them. Disillusionment charms are practically impossible to spot at night,” Fleur murmured, lighting her palm on fire.

Harry studied the clearing and the trees around them in the light of the fire, relaxing once he realized they were alone.

“Can you carry him? I’ll watch your back.”

Fleur nodded. With a flick of her wand, Crouch’s stunned body was levitating in the air. Fleur started to retrace their steps and Crouch’s body followed her. Harry brought up the rear, his alert gaze ready to spot any sudden movements around them.

“It has to be Karkaroff. Who else could do this? We’re not too far from the Durmstrang ship.”

“I don’t think so. Whoever it was knew Ministry protocol and procedures well enough to fool Percy. Karkaroff is an ass but he didn’t attack Crouch tonight and I’m convinced he didn’t put my name in the Goblet either.” Harry frowned as he went over the possibilities.

“The ’orrible blonde man?”

“Draco?” Harry snorted. “He doesn’t have the skill to do this. Or the brains, for that matter. We have a spy in the castle.” Harry took a deep breath. He briefly entertained the notion that Pettigrew had returned to the castle in his rat form but discarded the idea the minute he remembered his dreams. The traitor was tending to a weakened Lord Voldemort and it was impossible for him to be in two places at once. No, someone else was responsible for everything that was going on at Hogwarts.

They walked out of the forest without incident and Harry gently touched Fleur’s elbow, guiding her to Hagrid’s hut.

The hut was dark and appeared to be empty, but Harry could hear the faint scraping of Fang’s nails scratching against the shut wooden door as they approached.

“Hagrid isn’t home,” Harry murmured, weighing his options. He had hoped the man would go and fetch Dumbledore while he and Fleur watched over Crouch.

“He asked Madame Maxime to the Ball. They’re probably in the castle, dancing with everyone else.”

“Good for him,” Harry smirked. Deciding it was better to shelter in the hut than stay outside he bent and turned over the second fake rock in the row of rocks placed on the steps. He picked up the small golden key, pushed it into the lock, and turned it to open the door.

Fang tackled him the minute he walked inside and nearly caused him to trip but Harry hastily picked up the excitable dog and carried him over to the armchair. He placed him in the comfy seat and ordered him to sit before moving to the fireplace to start a fire, giving Fleur the space she needed to get Crouch safely settled on the couch.

“Splitting up is still a bad idea,” Fleur said before Harry could say anything.

“I know. We’ll wait here.” Harry sighed as the logs placed in the grate caught fire. The flames crackled to life, flooding the small hut with light and warmth. “Fang will fetch Hagrid for us and Hagrid will go get Professor Dumbledore,” Harry decided, walking over to the armchair and kneeling in front of the whining dog.

“Hey,” he whispered, gently scratching behind Fang’s ear. “I need you to find Hagrid and bring him back here, okay? It’s really important. Do you understand?”

Fang barked and licked Harry’s cheek before jumping out of the chair. He trotted up to Fleur and sniffed her, giving her a bark of approval once he determined she wasn’t a threat.

“Are you sure he can do it?”

Harry nodded. “He’s very intelligent. Just needs a little encouragement,” he said, turning to Fang. “Good dog! Go get Hagrid for me!”

Fang barked and dashed out of the hut in a mad gallop, sprinting across the castle grounds.

Harry grabbed the arms of the sofa and climbed into it with a tired sigh. He pointed his wand at the door and shut it with a lazy flick before turning his attention to Fleur. He realized she was still standing next to the couch, which was entirely occupied by the stunned and incapacitated man they had carried in from the forest. She had nowhere to sit but before he could get up and let Fleur take his place, she walked over and perched herself on the arm of his armchair with a sigh.

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered. He blushed when Fleur silently leaned over and rested her head on his chest. She turned and buried her face in his white shirt and took a deep breath, inhaling his scent to calm herself.

“For what?”

“You wanted to concentrate on winning the Triwizard Tournament this year and I’ve gotten you involved in my bullshit. I bet you wish we never met in that forest.”

“Maybe I wish I had listened to my sister sooner and paid more attention to what’s really important in life,” Fleur countered. She pushed a finger in the space between two buttons on Harry’s shirt and pressed it against the warm skin of his chest, savoring the skin-to-skin contact. “Gabrielle keeps telling me that winning the tournament won’t change anyone’s opinion of me. People who hate me will still think I’m an airhead bimbo and men will still look at me like I’m a piece of meat.”

“I’ve never-”

“I know. But it’s good to know the only man whose opinion I care about wants me,” Fleur teased with a quiet giggle. She shifted until she was partly on his lap and let her bare thigh brush against his erection again.

Harry blushed and groaned quietly as his cock twitched in his pants.

“Do you regret putting your name in the Goblet?”

“I don’t regret a single thing that happened this year. All of it led me to you,” Fleur whispered. She traced random patterns on his chest and cuddled into him for comfort. She smiled into his shirt when he wrapped an arm around her bare shoulders and pulled her closer. “I still want to win the Tournament, but I want to do it for myself now.”

“You’ll win.”

“And after?”

“After?”

“A thousand galleons should be enough to buy a nice cottage in Hogsmeade, non?”

Harry’s eyes widened. “A-Are you serious? You want to stay here?”

“Well, the food is atrocious and the weather is too cold but it does have its charms,” Fleur whispered, kissing his chest right over his heart.

“Fleur?”

“Hmm?”

“I-”

Harry paused at the loud knock on the door. He tensed for a second, relaxing when he heard Fang’s whine.

“Hagrid’s here.”

Fleur climbed out of Harry’s lap and grabbed her wand from the table, pointing it at the door. She lit her free hand on fire.

Harry looked at her with raised eyebrows as Hagrid rapped his knuckles on the door again.

“You can never be too careful. I have your back,” Fleur whispered with a proud smile.

Harry got up from the armchair and walked to the door. He opened it slightly and relaxed when Hagrid’s bushy face appeared in the crack.

“What’s going on?”

“No time to explain,” Harry murmured, his eyes widening. It was hard to be sure in the darkness but he could have sworn he saw a hooded figure enter the forest using the exact same path they had used to exit it.

“Harry?”

“Hagrid, I need you to go get Dumbledore as fast as possible. It’s a matter of life and death,” Harry said urgently.

“What’s wrong?”

“We don’t have time for questions. Please.”

Hagrid studied the serious expression on Harry’s face for a second, then nodded.

“Fang, stay with Harry and protect him,” he ordered, lumbering down the stairs. He set off across the grounds at a brisk pace and Harry allowed Fang to enter the hut before shutting the door once more.

Harry grabbed his wand from the table and ran up to the open window. The hooded figure was nowhere to be seen.

“Harry?”

“I think I saw someone.”

“Who?” Fleur asked, gripping her wand tightly. Her night of kissing under the stars had suddenly turned into a dangerous adventure, not that she was complaining. Veelas lived for excitement.

“No idea. But they entered the forest through the same path we used.”

“They’re going to check on Crouch. What happens when they realize he’s missing?”

“Let’s hope Dumbledore gets here before that,” Harry murmured. He shut the window to make sure no one could see there were people in the hut.

The couple stood back-to-back in the middle of the hut, both covering one entrance to the dwelling.

“He kept talking about a huge mistake. What do you think that was about?” Harry asked after a minute of tense silence.

“The way he treated his house elf?” Fleur suggested with a disgusted expression. It was hard to feel pity for a man who treated creatures with less power than him with such contempt. “Perhaps he wants her back. If she’s working in the castle he’d need to talk to your Headmaster, oui?”

“His behavior with Winky was horrible. But Malfoy acted worse than that with his house elf and he didn’t go mad when I tricked him into freeing Dobby. Did you see how he became when Azkaban was mentioned?” Harry asked with a frown. Crouch’s brief moment of sanity had immediately snapped the moment he had uttered the name of the infamous prison.

“Do you think his mistake has something to do with it?”

“Maybe,” Harry murmured. Crouch had tossed Sirius into Azkaban without a trial. Had he finally learned the truth? Was the strain of having to acknowledge such a monumental mistake enough to drive him mad? “I hope Professor Dumbledore can get some answers from him.”

Fleur nodded and glanced at the stunned man before returning her attention to the door she was guarding.

They settled into an uneasy silence, each too tense to do anything except stand watch. There was a gentle knock on the door after a few minutes.

“Who is it?” Harry asked, keeping his wand pointed at the shut door.

“It’s me, Harry,” Dumbledore’s soft voice replied. “Hagrid came to me and told me you needed my assistance.”

Harry slowly walked over and threw open the door, relaxing at the sight of the man standing in front of him. The Headmaster was dressed in midnight blue robes that accentuated his bright blue eyes. His half-moon spectacles were perched on the bridge of his nose and a small smile was visible through his bushy white beard.

“Where’s Hagrid?” Harry asked, stepping inside to let Dumbledore enter.

“He was having a wonderful time with Madame Maxime. I told him there was no need for him to ruin his night on our account.”

Harry nodded and shut the door once Dumbledore was inside the hut.

“What happened, Harry?” Dumbledore asked gravely, staring at the stunned man on the couch. He pulled his wand from the sleeve of his robes but did not try to restore Crouch’s consciousness.

“You see we, that is, Fleur and I have a secret spot by the lake where we go to-”

“Walk,” Fleur offered before Harry could say anything. She blushed and hastily grabbed the shawl draped over the armchair to cover up her rumpled dress and the hickeys on her neck.

“I see,” Dumbledore murmured, his eyes twinkling.

“It’s right by the forest. We didn’t care for the Ball so we came to the spot to-”

“Walk,” Fleur interjected again.

“Walk, yes,” Harry took a deep breath and tried his best not to stare at Fleur. How could someone be so perfect?

“Harry?” Dumbledore prodded him quietly, breaking him free from his thoughts.

“Right. Right. We heard a disturbance in the forest and we found Mr. Crouch there. He was out of his mind and talking to himself. I had to stun him to get him out of there before something or someone attacked us, professor,” Harry explained, giving the Headmaster a worried glance. Whatever his intentions, he had technically attacked Crouch. The man didn’t seem the type to let things of that nature slide.

“You did the right thing, Harry,” Dumbledore murmured. He stroked his beard thoughtfully as he walked around the couch, studying Crouch from every angle. “I’ve been worried about Barty’s health for a long time now. He hasn’t been the same ever since his wife died. I had no idea things had progressed to this extent, however.”

“He kept talking about a mistake he’d made, professor,” Fleur said. She pulled the shawl tighter around her body. Despite the shut doors and windows and the fire burning in the fireplace, the hut was cold. She missed the warmth and calming scent of Harry’s cloak. “He kept telling us that you needed to be informed. That’s why we called you.”

“You did the right thing, Miss Delacour.” Dumbledore stepped away from the couch and pointed his wand at the stunned man. “Renervate.”

Crouch immediately shot up into a sitting position and took a ragged breath. His crazed, bloodshot eyes looked around the room before settling on Dumbledore. At the sight of the Headmaster, he burst into tears, alarming both Harry and Fleur.

“What’s the matter, Barty?” Dumbledore asked. He waved his wand to move the armchair next to the couch and sat down on it. “What happened?” he pressed, studying the weeping man with his intense blue eyes.

“I… I made a mistake, Dumbledore! Now he’s back! Back! Had to… made a promise! Too strong. TOO STRONG!” Crouch screamed, tugging on his disheveled hair.

Dumbledore didn’t say anything. He simply cupped Crouch’s cheeks and forced the man to look into his eyes, only to pull away after a few seconds with a frustrated sigh.

“What’s the matter, professor?”

“His mind is fractured, Harry. Shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. He’s utterly mad. It’s not something I can fix with a simple charm.” Dumbledore pressed his wand against Crouch’s temple and sent him to sleep. It was the most he could for the man given his current state. “I tried to glance into his mind but everything in there was jumbled. Nothing makes sense.”

“Is this permanent?” Harry asked in a horrified whisper.

“I hope not. The healers at St. Mungo’s will know for sure. But even if it isn’t,  it will take them a long time to heal him.”

“What could have caused this?”

“Dark Magic,” Dumbledore replied bluntly. “His mind is tainted with traces of it.” Dumbledore turned his attention to the sleeping man. “What did you get yourself involved in, Barty?” he murmured to himself. He stroked his beard, deep in thought.

“Professor?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“Can we do something?”

Dumbledore smiled. “You’ve done a great job, Harry. You saved a man’s life at considerable risk to yours. I can take it from here. Why don’t you and Miss Delacour go back to the castle and try to enjoy the remainder of the Ball?”

Harry nodded and turned to leave, only to freeze in place when Fleur prodded him in the ribs with her elbow.

“Tell him about the cloaked figure,” Fleur whispered.

“What cloaked figure?” Dumbledore asked sharply before Harry could speak.

“I’m not sure, Professor. I think I saw a hooded figure enter the forest a few minutes ago. I thought it was strange.”

“We thought-”

Fleur was interrupted by the clunking of wood against the stone steps of Hagrid’s hut. This time, there was no knock. Moody simply pushed open the door and barged into the hut, his magical eye whizzing madly.

“Alastor,” Dumbledore said mildly. He sounded calm, but Harry didn’t miss the fact that he had his wand pointed at their Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m not much for Balls,” Moody growled. “Ran into Hagrid on the grounds. He told me there’s something wrong and you might need me, so here I am.”

“Ah,” Dumbledore murmured. “You came at the right time. Harry saw a mysterious figure enter the forest a few minutes ago. I need you to go and investigate.”

“Are you sure? I should stay here with you in case you need me.”

“I’ll be quite fine,” Dumbledore replied calmly.

Moody’s gaze flickered to Dumbledore’s wand for a brief second before he nodded. He turned and exited the hut, wordlessly making his way to the Forbidden Forest.

“And now, I think it’s time for you and Miss Delacour to rejoin your friends in the castle, Harry.”

“Yes, professor.”

“And Harry? Be careful. These are strange times. Perhaps it would be prudent to follow Alastor’s motto, especially if you and Miss Delacour feel the urge to take any more late-night… walks.”

“I will stay vigilant, professor.”

Harry and Fleur smiled at Dumbledore and left before things got any more awkward. Harry grasped Fleur’s hand and threaded their fingers together as they walked down the well-lit path that led back to the castle.

Fleur rested her head on his shoulder but kept her wand clutched in her free hand in case of unexpected danger. She noticed he had done the same thing. The only danger, however, was from amorous couples and they were subjected to more than one breathy moan and playful giggle as they walked past the ice sculptures and thick bushes.

“Harry?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t feel like going back to the Ball.”

“That’s alright. We can do something else.”

“Like what?”

“Uh… I can show you my Common Room and Dormitory. There’ll be no one there to disturb us.”

“Mister Potter, a gentleman would at least buy me dinner first,” Fleur teased. She giggled at the sight of Harry’s red face and leaned up to kiss his jaw. “Next thing I know, you’ll want to drag me behind a bush, pin me against a wall, and ravish me. I had no idea you were such a brute,” Fleur whispered coyly.

If she was braver (or slightly more like her sister) she’d admit outright that her words were less an accusation and more a suggestion.

“I didn’t… no… I wasn’t going to… I’ve seen your room, I just wanted to show you mine! I thought we could play chess and talk,” Harry stammered, his blush deepening.

Fleur grinned. “Relax, mon ami. You’re not the only one who can tease in this relationship. I’d love to see your room,” Fleur murmured, kissing his jaw again.

“Relationship?”

“We’ve been faking one for months now,” Fleur murmured. She blushed when the back of his hand brushed against her bare thigh. “I’d love to be in a real one. If you’ll have me?”

“I want you,” Harry breathed before hastily correcting himself. “I want… this.”

“You can have me too,” Fleur whispered, her inner Veela kicking in. Like every Veela, even she had a sensual side. It just took a special person to bring it out. She leaned up and pressed her lips against his ear. “Let’s have a bet. Beat me in chess and I’m yours,” she whispered, her hot breath tickling his skin. “If I win I get to take anything I want from your closet.”

Harry froze, his brain shutting down as all blood flow was diverted to his throbbing manhood.

“Do we have a deal?” Fleur asked innocently.

“We have a deal,” Harry rasped, his throat dry.

Fleur pulled away slightly as they walked through the courtyard and into the castle. The Atrium was empty except for Cedric, who grinned when he saw Harry and Fleur.

“Hey! Had a fun walk?” he asked with a knowing grin, causing both Harry and Fleur to blush.

“Fun enough,” Harry murmured, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Listen, Cho is waiting for me but I wanted to wait and thank you for helping me out with the dragon.”

“You’re welcome, Cedric.”

“Did either of you figure out the clue yet?”

“Not yet,” Harry replied.

“Why don’t you and Fleur have a relaxing bath? Take your eggs with you.”

“…why?”

“Who knows? Inspiration might strike. I get my best ideas in the bath. Use the Prefect’s Bathroom on the fourth floor. The password is Bubbles.” Cedric winked and sprinted up the staircase before Harry or Fleur could respond.

Harry looked at Fleur with raised eyebrows.

“Tomorrow,” Fleur said with a grin. “I have a chess match to win tonight.”

Notes:

You know that trope where nothing happens, then everything happens all at once? That applies to both Harry and Fleur's relationship and to some extent the plot as well. I am having so much fun writing a different kind of Flowerpot in this story. To those of you who are also GabiMione fans, fret not, those two idiots in love will also make an appearance soon! I plan to do the November Writing Challenge, so you're hopefully going to see a lot of fun updates this month. Please use the Invite Link in my Pinned Post and join my Discord Server to stay updated with what I'm doing!