“Keep up, slowpoke,” Harry called to her from the doorway to their house, while Stella was switching between intently watching the door and turning her blue eyes towards her.

“I am almost done.” Fleur huffed and finished wrapping her scarf around herself. In her thick coat, scarf, mufflers and a white knitted hat with a pom pom, she knew she cut quite the figure. “You know I need to prepare for your winter. And you—” she turned to their canine companion, “—watch that cheek.”

If Stella took her admonishment to heart, she didn’t show it and gifted her with a guileless smile.

“All wrapped up, then?” Harry’s smile was, if possible, even cheekier than Stella’s.

“Watch it, mister.” She tried to point at him, but her efforts were very much thwarted by her thick mittens. “I still don’t understand how you are not a half-jötunn.”

“It’s just normal Scottish winter, love.” He moved to steal a kiss from her. “We aren’t going to visit the pole.”

“It certainly feels like the pole,” she muttered, and vapour rose through her scarf.

Harry, however, noticed the way her cheeks moved, and knew she was smiling. And how could she not some, when they both got o watch Stella gleefully run into the snow outside, barking at the falling snowflakes. Her coat was pristine white and she could easily blend into snow, something she quite enjoyed doing, so she could then surprise her humans.

“She loves winter,” he murmured to her as he took her into his arms.

“At least somebody does.”

“Now now, don’t pout, darling.” He swayed a little, making her move with him. “Why not have some fun? And we better keep up with Stella.”

“Hmph.”

They turned to watch their dog’s exuberant escapades. Both knew they would need to move soon. Stella required a lot of exercise.

And then, resembling a cloud running on four legs, Stella was off, barking her joy to the world.

“Come on.” Harry prodded her. “We better keep up.”

[1:53 PM]

They were back home from the eventful trip where Stella had led them on a merry chase. The fireplace now radiated heat and the gentle crackling of burning wood sounded through their living room. Fleur found herself half-lying on the sofa, leaning on Harry, while the happy ball of fluff that was Stella was sitting on her legs and giving her a beaming canine smile.

Her husband’s arms reached around her, offering her a warm embrace where he cupped her delicate, cold hands in his. Gentle. Warm. He brought her hands to his lips and gently blew on them to warm them up.

“I don’t know why I always allow you two to drag me into that infernal cold.”

Laughter rumbled in his chest, sending delicious shivers down her spine. “Because we always warm you up, and you love us.”

She turned and gave him a slow, languid kiss. They had all the time in the world.

“That you do. And I do.”

And so she sat there, in a cocoon of warmth and affection, while the fire merrily crackled away in the fireplace.