Harry had never been more grateful for his father's Cloak than now, as he sneaked his way to the Beauxbaton's Carriage, he tried to focus his mind, but knew it was a failed endeavour, it was only the years of practice sneaking after curfew that allowed him to dodge Filch, Snape and even two prefects, well that and the Map. It was exhilirating, Hermione had once said he was an adrenaline junkie and he was starting to agree with her.
He soon reached the castle grounds and saw the round form of the Beauxbaton's Carriage being illuminated by the moonlight and the few windows that were lit up, his heart rate increased, the hand holding his broom started to sweat, but he steeled himself with a deep breath, he had recently faced a Dragon, he could do this.
Approaching, he counted the windows, hoping he got the right one, he mounted his broom and rose softly, still covered with the cloak, he should only be seen if someone was under him, which he doubted would be the case.
He reached the window, barely large enough for him to fly through while laying flat on his Firebolt. The room was dark, and only the moonlight illuminated it's interior, he landed softly, and removed the hood from the cloak, looking around.
"Fleur?"
The lights were suddenly turned on, making him close his eyes, before he heard her voice with fake fear and something else that made him blush.
"Oh, non, a terrible voleur 'as come to steal my virtue!"
He blushed even more, especially when he found her, sitting on her bed, the silky covers being held with one arm while the other was on her cheek, to help with her expression of mock horror.
Harry did his best to resist staring at her too much, her dishevelled hair, wide blue eyes and her almost bare shoulders, with only the straps of her nightgown covering them.
He grinned at her, being pleased by her blush at his stare. He remembered kisses of passion on a broom closet, both still smelling of ash, and said the phase.
"Can't really steal what is freely given."