“Come home with me?” Fleur asked as she burrowed deeper into his embrace. Her head rested in the crook of his neck, and her pale locks of hair were cascading along his torso. They had been holding each other for what seemed to be an eternity.
Harry’s lips tugged up slightly, a soft, melancholic smile gracing his face. “Yeah? And do what?”
“Anything,” She looked up at him with a sly smile, almost teasing in nature. The Beauxbatons student pulled back slightly, and began tracing her finger on her make-shift pillow’s chest. “And everything.”