Part 1
Harry’s attention was drawn by a melodious, almost familiar voice over his shoulder, “Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?” He turned to see the Beauxbatons girl that had laughed during Dumbledore’s welcome speech, having removed her muffler. Silvery blond hair cascaded over her powder blue dress. Then, his eyes met hers, prismatic blue locking onto emerald green, and he was lost. His mind was assaulted by flashes of memory. Scenes from a life long lived and long gone, and those of a life yet to come. Of a silvery blond elven princess and her chivalrous dragon knight. Of a quiet star prince and his raucous pilot paramour. Of flights over a sea of trees on the back of a draconic steed, and fast paced firefights in the vast space between the stars. Of love and laughter and pain and joy. Of stolen kisses and passionate embraces, of comfortable companionship and steamy intimacy. Of the one he shared it with. Of blue eyes, the same ones he gazed at right now, looking right back at him. “.....arry? HARRY!”, Hermione’s voice drew him from his stupor. He started, glancing about, before looking over at his bushy haired friend, “What?” “You were staring!”, She hissed. He blinked, his eyes widening as he stuttered apologies to the French girl standing next to him, “I… I’m so sorry! Yeah, sure, have it” he pushed the bowl over to her. For an awkward moment, there was no reply. He cleared his throat. The blue eyed blond blinked, her cheeks pinking slightly, “Ah… ah, yez. You ‘ave finished wiz it?” “Yeah.” Still pink in the cheeks, she picked up the bowl, and walked away.
Part 2
Fleur’s mind was racing at a mile a minute as she moved back to her seat at the ravenclaw table. Shards of memory still floated from nowhere into her mind, as they had when her gaze had locked with that hauntingly familiar emerald. A barrage of memories, of a lonely, knife-eared queen and her chivalrous knight, long ago, in a land where magic lay in the lifeblood of all things. Of flights on dragonback underneath the stars, of homely moments shared in an airy palace. Of an excitable, energetic pilot who sallied forth through the stars, her shy and loving prince beside her. Of adventures across worlds, across systems, of fulfilling companionship in the vast void of space. And of so much more. Of Heated , passionate kisses, of slow, gentle love, of quickies in storage rooms and of being held close through the night. And through it all, those emerald eyes she loved to get lost in, gazing lovingly at hers. She shook her head as she took her seat. It was confusing, but now was not the time. Events unfolded as they always had, with a fourth champion chosen for a tournament of three, with isolation and betrayal, mistrust and loneliness. And through it all, to Harry and Fleur cam memories that had been lost, that shouldn't have existed. Yet they did. And they brought with them new feelings. New emotions. New skills. The night before the First Task, Fleur dreamed of a day long gone, when her raven haired knight showed her how to subdue a dragon, without hurting it in the least. The next day, spectators in the first task were left amazed by an unharmed Harry potter, standing in the middle of the ring, the spined dragon he was meant to face nuzzling into his palm as he stroked its scales, golden eggs tucked under one hand.
Part 3
When the Yule ball was announced, no doubt, no thought towards finding a partner took root in either of Harry or Fleur’s minds. All dates were turned down, gently or with a firmer hand. For Harry or Fleur taking another would have a betrayal to the other. On the night of the Ball, they met face to face once more, no words having passed between them since the First task, dressed in complementing silver and red outfits. Harry bowed with a grace none had seen before from him, kissing his date’s hand gently, before offering his arm, an arm that Fleur gladly took, as they stepped forward, an unearthly, majestic grace evident in their gait. When they took to the floor, all motion stopped, every fixed on tha pair as they danced across the hall in a particular form of the art that wouldn't be invented till eight centuries later, in a planet across the galaxy. There, dancing under the starry roof of the hall, they acknowledged what they had become, what they had always been. Lovers, confidantes, mates, bonded And when he kissed her, there, in the middle of the hall, surrounded by stares that were of little consequence, they pledged themselves to each other once more. As time passed, they changed, their memories, their selves from past and future amalgamating into their present. Fleur became more open, more charismatic, almost regal. Harry changed as well, becoming more confident, surer in himself and his ability, growing taller and filling out, his magic forming him to his mental image.
Part 4
During the Second Task, spiny fingers reaching for the dainty feet of the blond champion amidst the kelp found themselves shattered and thrown away by a bright spark that darted from the blond’s hands. Mermen attempting to stop a raven haired boy from reaching for the chains of the other hostages found themselves staring in awe as powerful jaws of water split the chains in two, surging from the boy’s wand as his eyes glowed an eerie emerald, promising vengeance upon any who would oppose him. Finally, as they stared at the entrance to the gigantic mage that consisted of the third task, Harry took Fleur’s hand in his, as she pulled him into a deep kiss, as the world watched on. As one, they turned to the dark entrance. Whatever was to come, they would face it together. As they always had, and always would. For Harry was Fleur’s, and Fleur was Harry’s, and they would be damned if they let the other go.