Harry’s childhood never gave him the chance to discover or develop his taste in music
When Fleur and her family discuss artists or works, he feels inadvertently left out, unable to offer an opinion on something he knows nothing about
One night, as they lay together in bed, just cuddling and talking, he opens up to Fleur, telling her of his lack of experience, of his insecurity and cluelessness when it comes to the musical side of the arts
Fleur promises to help him find his favorite tunes
The next day, she drags him with her into her family’s collection of music. It is incredibly diverse, the by-product of having four people with widely differing tastes in the musical arts
They spend the day going through different kinds of music. Pop and rock, jazz and reggae, classics and shanties, Beethoven and Jimmy Hendrix, the whole works
The sun had begun to set, casting the sky in brilliant oranges and reds, yet nothing had clicked for Harry. He didn't dislike anything, but nothing stood out to him
Yet he didn't care. For you see, Fleur had sung along to the songs she knew, or hummed to those she didn't
And her voice had left him enthralled
It turned out Harry did have a taste in music.
The music of his love, his life, his Fleur
And that was all he needed.