🍀Not Minding Her Business 🍀 Part-1 The room was silent save for the faint rustle of curtains breathing in the breeze from the open window. Tension hung in the air like stormclouds on the verge of thunder. Harry stood near the bookshelf, his arms crossed with an air of practiced nonchalance, while Fleur paced before him, her steps sharp and unsteady.
“What do you want to talk about?” he asked, voice dipped in false innocence, the ghost of a smirk playing at his lips.
Fleur stopped mid-step, eyes narrowing with frustration. “You know what I want to talk about. There is no need to be coy about it.”
He tilted his head, the smirk blossoming fully now. “Please,” he drawled, “enlighten me…”
Her jaw clenched, and she folded her arms across her chest in defence—against him, or herself, she wasn’t quite sure. “Why did you do that?”
“Do what?” he replied, still playing the fool, though there was a flicker in his gaze now—he knew full well what she meant.
“It need not have gone as far as it did.”
Harry’s lips curled into a smile that wasn’t entirely kind. “And who, may I ask, made you the judge of that?”
“You’re my guest, Harry,” Fleur snapped, her voice tight with restraint.
He raised an eyebrow, leaning ever so slightly forward. “And? Do you intend to control me now?”
“I do not,” she hissed, frustrated. “And you know it.”
“Then what exactly is your point, Fleur?”
“Your behaviour out there was not acceptable!”
Harry’s smirk turned faintly cruel, his tone far too calm. “Oh? I think your cousin found my behaviour quite satisfactory to her tastes.”
“I’m not joking, Harry!” she said, voice rising with genuine anger.
“Neither am I,” he replied, not backing down. “We played a game—Gabby was in on it. Maddy and I did what the game required. Nothing more.”
Fleur’s hands curled into fists at her sides. “Then why did you keep kissing her?!”
Harry shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching again. “Because she wouldn’t let me go.”
The words struck something in her, and she stepped closer. “And what about you? You couldn’t move?”
At that, the mask cracked. The smirk vanished.
“Okay, you know what?” he said, voice clipped with rising temper. “I don’t answer to you, Fleur. Especially not about my actions. I’m under no obligation to explain myself, so how about you backpedal a little, yeah?”
Her breath caught. Hurt flashed behind her eyes, quickly buried beneath fury. “I didn’t know you would disrespect me like that.”
Harry took a step back, his voice laced with raw, unfiltered frustration. “When did living my own damn life become disrespectful to you? Or is it because your cousin was involved with me? Is that it? Is it so horrifying to imagine one of you being with someone like me?”
“I never said that!” she exclaimed, her voice cracking—not with volume, but something far more vulnerable.
“Then what are you saying?” Harry asked, stepping toward her now. “Because all I see is you being angry about something that shouldn’t matter. It was a kiss. A bloody game. Maddy didn’t seem to mind. We played fair and respected the rules. So what’s so hard to understand?”
Fleur said nothing. Her lips parted as if to speak, then pressed tightly shut again. Her shoulders were taut, her eyes glassy with emotion she clearly couldn’t name, let alone voice.
Harry sighed, the fire ebbing out of him like a wave pulling away from the shore.
“When you have a real reason for this sudden interest in my personal life,” he said quietly, “then come out with it. Until then, stop. Because right now, Fleur, you look like a jealous girlfriend. And need I remind you—you have a boyfriend. This? This isn’t a good look on you.”
Her eyes widened, the sting of his words hitting home. She tossed her hair with a scornful flick and muttered, dripping sarcasm, “Thank you very much for reminding me. I didn’t know that.”
Harry drew in a long breath, his jaw tight. “Alright, that’s it. I’m leaving.”
He moved past her, the distance between them suddenly vast and cold.
“And when you feel like having a reasonable discussion,” he added over his shoulder, “you know where to find me.”
She turned as he reached the door. “This isn’t over, Harry,” she said, her voice quieter now, yet resolute. “Not yet.”
Harry paused in the doorway, his fingers lingering on the frame. He didn’t turn back.
“I’m sure it’s not,” he muttered, and then he was gone.