Prior to attending Hogwarts, Harry's best example at a healthy functioning relationship between two adults is that of the 1991 film, The Addams Family. So whenever he gets around to wanting a romantic relationship, he goes from being (a justifiably) shy and mopey kid to copying Gomez Addams trying to find his Morticia. Fleur otoh is looking for anyone who isn't affected by her allure. Friend are hard to come by due to the jealousy and notoriety of being close to a veela. She thinks that Harry's antics are more of a commentary about people's behavior around her and the entire situation. His antics are cute enough and so is he, so she goes along with it leading to silly scenes of Harry professing his love and Fleur overdramatically swooning.
Prompts
articulating potential
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Prompt: 231
Prompt: Fleur Delacour has been recruited into the Order of the Phoenix. Her first mission: Rescue Harry Potter from Privet Drive.
Harry James Potter sat in his room feeling frustrated and lonely. After the Tri-Wizard Tournament, he had been sent back to Number 4, Privet Drive to spend the summer there, according to Dumbledore, for his protection. The only lengthy letter he received was from Fleur Delacour, the beautiful French witch from Beauxbatons.
Stunned, Harry reread the letter and heard loud noises and what sounded like an argument. Picking up his wand, Harry was about to open his bedroom door when it opened and revealed a familiar face.
"'Arry?"
A shocked Harry asked the newcomer, "Fleur?!"
Smiling, Fleur said, "I missed you, Mon Ami." She went over to Harry and gave him a warm hug.
"I missed you; too, Fleur," Harry replied as he returned her hug, something he had only done with Hermione. "Uhm, what are you doing here?"
Fleur replied with a smirk, "'Aven't you guessed? I am 'ere to rescue you."
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Prompt: 191
Ladies and Gentlemen, Witches and Wizards, welcome to the 425th Quidditch world cup final, I am your host Lee Jordan and all of us are in for a threat tonight.
After some impressive displays the World Cup holders England are once again into the finals, knocking out the likes of Bulgaria and Burkina Faso on the road to glory, strong performances by Wood, Spinet, Longbottom and Potter make England the favorite once again.
But lets not count out the French, runners up in 1998 and winners in 2002, they put on a strong run after a difficult start and are into the finals once again after beating the likes of Ireland and Moldova. Key roles for tonight are expected from their beaters Vieira and Makelele, the chasing talent La Fontaine and of course their star seeker Potter
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Operation: Keep It In the Family
Harry went back in time when he died and so did Sirius after going through the Veil. Sirius, who gets shunted back to his teenage self a few years before Harry shows up, decides to accept his family's pressures and will marry Bella to avoid having her run off and join Voldemort if Andy is allowed to marry who she likes.
Sirius works his way to control the Black estate and seduce Bella with years of experience in both magic and witches and mitigate Voldemort's influence in his house and beyond. Cue 18 year old Harry's arrival at the same time when Lucius begins trying to approach Narcissa.
Sirius recognizing Harry's distinctive dress, quickly puts 2+2 together and sets up the game plan.
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Prompt: 2
Hermione's worst timeline.
Where her time turner breaks, dumping her at the polyjuice moment, where the time energy forces the transformation further, then dumps her 30 years in the past. She knew about the chamber already and went to try to steal the diary from ginny when she was scribbling the first message. Got basilisk got.
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Fleur, The Hoodie Stealer
Fleur Delacour, 17, has been dating magical Europe’s biggest hero for about six months now, and in those six months, they had gotten accustomed to sharing essentially everything. From books to notepads, to even notes for homework. She could only wonder what her boyfriend was doing at the moment. With a big grin on her face as she looked down at her chest, covered by a Metallica hoodie.
As Harry got up for another day of Professor Snape bitching, and moaning like a child. He put on his jeans, and checked his drawers for his hoodie, a special gift from his girlfriend about a month into their relationship. He searched high and low in his drawer, only to find it nowhere. Great, Harry thought to himself sarcastically. I really like that sweater too!
“Fleur is going to kill me when she finds out my sweater and T-shirt are missing, fuck my life!”
With a frustrated grunt, he made his way to the great hall, to get some breakfast. As he sat down with his friends, he looked at his girlfriend who gave him a Cheshire grin, Oh, you will pay woman!
Just before breakfast came to an end, he went over to the Ravenclaw table and grabbed his girlfriend by the wrist and dragged her away. The murmurs started going around the great hall, only to be ignored by the couple.
Fleur Isabel Delacour didn’t know what to make of the current situation, she was sitting with her boyfriend under a tree next to the lake where the second task would take place, he looked at her intensely, causing her to be unnerved.
“Sweetness, why the hell did you take my hoodie?” He whispered with forced politeness
“Because you’re not taking the hint that I have been leaving for three months!” Fleur whispered heatedly.
Harry’s eyebrows jumped at that, what was she talking about?
Fleur’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration, she lightly pushed him before sitting on his stomach and getting in his face, “Why haven’t you been using my panties to relieve your urges?!” She wasn’t angry at him, good. Wait… what?!
She saw his confused face and rolled her eyes in response, “I’ve been giving you my panties every night for the past three months for that express purpose and you always return them clean? Why?!”
Before Harry could respond, she put a finger to his lips, “I’ve been giving them to you because you’re not of age yet, we can’t have sex until you turn at least 16. That’s why I’ve been giving you my panties, until the day we can legally make love like there’s no tomorrow!”
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Happily (N)Ever After
A fantasy AU of HP.
In a world of heroes, nobility and all manner of magical creatures, you would think this to be a simple and ideal world, yet you would be wrong.
Most of the princes are lazy, pretentious layabouts who have never lifted anything heavier than a quill or silver spoon, and those that claim to have a truly martial upbringing or hail from chivalrous families have never seen actual combat. And those that rescue princesses from all sorts of nefarious dangers aren't the ones who rescued those princesses in the first place.
For those who want a princess for a wife but don't want to do any of the legwork, they hire a mercenary who then dons the Prince's armour and wear a helmet to conceal their identity and rescue the princess who is usually none the wiser.
Harry James Potter is one of those mercs. Taking an altogether risky job that other mercs won't touch involving infiltrating an island concealed by magic and inhabited by strange creatures known as Veela, the problem isn't getting to the island, it's getting out. Harry takes the job mostly because of the promised reward involved; the job is infiltrate the island and take one of the Veela maidens living there and bring her back to be married to the son of a high ranking lord.
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His Angel: Literally
God was not a happy man, not one bit. Of his 70,000 children residing in heaven, one of them hasn’t been doing their job. Fate had changed the Child of prophecy’s Guardian Angel!
Understandably upset, his real angel was coming to Earth, her name? Sophia, the angel of love. She was going to set it right immediately!
This, of course, upsets her siblings, God, in an attempt to appease his children, gives Sophia one sole task: ensure that Harry Potter and Fleur Delacour end up married unlike the first 700 timelines involving him ending up with Ginny Weasley
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Smart to Voldemort
Tom read the article with relish, "Harry Potter, age 187, died in bed last evening..."
Finally, after all these years, he could return to his conquest of magical Britain.
Thank goodness he did the sensible thing as an immortal wizard and simply waited for his prophesied opponent to die. What sort of a moron would risk fate itself smiting them down? Patience - that was always Tom's greatest weapon. And with the massive fortune he'd accumulated through slow, safe investments over the course of nearly two centuries, he was all set to bribe the right people to put himself in power.
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The Epic of the Nameless
An ordinary soul, a life lived full. A choice, a price, not to step aside. For life's too precious not to live, and life's too short not to die. You need only choose what to die for, and what to leave behind.
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Ranni
While exploring the Chamber of Secrets, Harry finds an old, ornate box, and inside it, a small blue doll that feels chilly to the touch and intrigues him greatly, for why would Salazar or Tom store something like that. He intends to takes it back to Prof. Dumbledore, until she speaks with him, with a voice he can't help but find alluring. Ranni, as she calls herself, teaches Harry of distant worlds and magic he has never heard of before(not that that's a big feat, given he's still a Second Year), along with the importance of self-determination. Harry knows, especially after the whole thing with the Diary, how dangerous she could be, but unlike the Diary, she feels comforting and seeks only to teach him more about magic and the universe, and how much he didn't know.
Ranni becomes his secret companion, teaching him the mysteries of the Cosmos at the Astronomy Tower under the bright Moonlight, and helping with counsel in his adventures. A year passes, and the Tri-Wizard Tournament is announced. Ranni asks Harry for a favor, to make her a new body she can inhabit and use, one of flesh and blood, and Harry, now somewhat smitten with her and the things she showed him through her magic, agrees. Ranni promises that together, they can travel the Cosmos and be free, for he has the potential to stand at her side.
Fleur Delacour arrives at Hogwarts with two main goals, win the Tri-Wizard and bring glory to herself and her School, and, as a Maiden of the Golden Order, find the next Elden Lord that was said to reside in this very school and bring them to the service of the Greater Will, so her family can finally return home and restore what was broken.
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Fleurrito
Based on Prompt 8:
Harry was in his kitchen preparing dinner for the night. Ever since Fleur had gotten pregnant, she had been increasingly hungry; she also never quite lost her disdain for English food. "Shitty English food", she would often remark. Harry smiled at the memory and wondered where she learned that curse word from. At the moment, Fleur waddled into the room as she glared at her husband.
"'Arry! Zis baby is 'ungry! She wants some of that shitty English food," Fleur yelled at her husband.
"Nope, we're not having any of that 'shitty English food'" Harry replied, trying not to laugh. "Tonight, we're having burritos!"
"Burritos?" Fleur asked with a frown. "What is zat? More of your shitty English food?"
"Trust me, you'll love it!" Harry said with a laugh as he set the table. After Fleur settled into a chair, she took her first bite of this 'burrito'. Her eyes widened and she wolfed down the burrito with gusto. Harry laughed at the sight and thought to himself, "Victory."
After dinner, Harry carried his pregnant wife and set her on the sofa where she wrapped herself up in a blanket and began reading one of her favorite books.
"You know, love, you all wrapped up in a blanket like that makes you look like a burrito..." Harry said with a smile,
"I think I'll call you 'Fleurrito'..."
Harry laughed as he dodged a pillow thrown at him by his wife.
Later, Harry met up with his best friend Ron who was working at the joke shop. Ron looked at Harry as walked in and asked, "How was your weekend?
Harry replied with a grin, "Fantastic! We made a Fleurrito on Sunday.
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The Scoop of the Century
1920's-30's Muggle AU, New York City. Fleur is an investigative reporter at a newspaper, and she's never dropped a case before. She gets down to the bottom of the investigation, sandal or situation by any means necessary.
Harry Potter is a bodyguard and right hand man for a mafia lord who is only known as 'The Prince', the leader of the 'Order of the Phoenix'. But not of his own desire or free will. The man has something over Harry, something Harry is determined to protect.
One day Fleur is snooping around a Phoenix warehouse looking for evidence and is discovered by several mafia goons. They capture her, about to beat information out of her and have their way, when Harry steps in. And as he's the unofficial number two of the mafia, they listen and heed his threat. Harry lets her go, eventually gaining her trust, if only for a moment.
Harry realizes that Fleur is in danger of being found by the Order, so he fakes her death and orders her to leave the city and forget what she learned.
But a woman like Fleur Delacour won't run away with her tail between her legs, so she vows to take 'The Prince' down. And Harry, realizing that this might be his best shot to take down the don, offers to work with her to do so. And as Fleur's apartment isn't safe, and she has no family in the state, she has nowhere to go. So Harry sees no choice but to hide her at his house in order to keep her safe, but to also keep an eye on her, not trusting her desire to solve the case.
So Harry and Fleur enter a forced, testing, odd and rather unorthodox domestic together. Harry, despite being number 2, doesn't have much money to his name, so they have to both live in his tiny one bedroom apartment. He gives her his room in order for her to have privacy, but he quickly learns that the stubborn woman has no shame. And delights in walking around in her undergarments.
Mafia themed, maybe 1920's or 30's New York? Any ideas welcome.
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A Starlight Evening
Harry is setting up the evening picnic he had planned for his first date with the trophy of Slytherin, Daphne Greengrass. Little did he know, she had only agreed as a school kid prank, due to a bet she had lost earlier in the year.
Harry has everything set up, a vintage wine from the kitchen elves, fancy deserts, and a three course meal. He waits an hour, no Daphne.
He resigns himself to eating alone, believing he should have figured out she would have stood him up.
What he doesn't know is that Fleur is on a moonlight stroll through the forest. She needed to clear her mind, but as she was walking past, she noticed a candlelit area inside. She steps closer, and what does she see but one Harry Potter sitting alone at a picnic clearly designed for two.
"Can I join you monsieur?" Fleur inquires as she steps into the clearing, moonlight reflecting off her hair.
"Sure" Harry said distractedly, not really paying attention.
Fleur followed his gaze, looking upward.
"The stars are amazing tonight" she sighed, full of content.
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Enemy of My Enemy
Harry was not fast enough in his first year, and Hermione ended up being killed by the troll. Her parents, in their anger, reveal the magical world to the muggle government before they could be obliviated.
War soon follows, now foes become allies as friends become enemies. Tensions run high as the light side must work with Death Eaters to survive. Tom Riddle finally got the war he wanted, but it was more than he could handle alone. Goblins and other races must band together with Wizards to prevent the extinction of all magical races. Muggleborns and half-bloods caught in the middle, forced to choose a side.
Harry is part of a select group, composed of all races, to receive tutelage from masters of all species. It is in this class that he meets a certain veela.
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The Duck Side
Harry blearily opened his eyes to the sight of Voldemort, newly resurrected and empowered.
Surrounding them were the laughing and mocking masked Death Eaters. Hateful bastards, the lot of them.
The sound of quacking could be heard nearby. They call to him. "Join us," they say.
The dark lord heard them not, and thus, he basked in the revelry of his followers celebrating his return.
"Ah, Harry, back amongst us, I see," said the noseless wonder.
"I was planning to kill you, but I'm in such a good mood now. I will make you a one-time offer."
"What?" rasped Harry.
"Join me. Join the Dark Lord. We will rule the world, all of us!"
There was a tense silence.
A silence broken by the sound of a duck's quack somewhere.
Then another sound took over. It took a moment for it to become clear. But Harry was chuckling. It continued, and eventually became full blown laughter. Maybe Voldemort went a little overboard with the crucios just now.
"Oh, Tom..." said Harry, wiping a tear from his eye, "So, you're offering me, after murdering my parents, having my parents' betrayer tie me up, torture me, and cut me open, after killing my friend, the opportunity to join the dark side? Forego the Light?"
"Yes," came the sibilant reply, but Voldemort's eyes were filled with doubt. Something was up with the boy.
Also, did he call him Tom???
"You should know, sir," started Harry in a slow manner, "I haven't been part of the Light for some time now."
Voldemort's eyes lit up with interest. This was news!
"But I will not join the Dark either. And no, I'm not Grey, just so you know..."
This made the bald man frown, "Well, what side are you on, then? Your own?"
Harry stared silently for a long time. A near full minute, enough that Death Eaters behind were shuffling nervously.
"Much worse, Tom," said Harry, to the building crescendo of quacking in the graveyard, "I've joined...the Duck Side."
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Make a Choice
"You have intruded upon Veela territory, human. Choose how you're going to die."
"Er, can I really make that choice?"
"Upon the honour of our Matriarch."
"I want to die old, in bed, happily married to you, and surrounded by a lot of children and grandchildren."
"..."
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Prompt: 34
He never thought when he first laid eyes on his bonny french rose, not even when he had already known to had fallen for her, that he would lead such a strange life.
A domestic life it is, yes, but even then there is a tiny of adventure in a domestic life with a Veela. He is not even talking about the sex, adventurous as that part of their life is. He has long since accepted that his life would never be normal, but of this was the kind of adnormal that is was going to be now, he thought as he sewed the pillow in which he had put his wife's feathers chucking to himself at the absurdity, he was ok with it. His wife was not human. You would never know to look at her, or even were you to interact with her in the way of colleagues, or even casual friends. You'd say 'that woman has a strange feel to her' or maybe you'd think she has a few quirks, if you know her better, but no one would guess at the extend of her inhumanity.
No, Fleur Delacour was most definitely not a human woman, despite any facade, despite the boundaries that social convention sets. He sees her when she is unbounded, though. She has no façade, no excuse to be other than what she is when she is with him. Yes, his life was not what people call normal, but if he was required to have a strange life by some quirk of the Fates, then he'd choose Fleur in this world and in a thousand more. He'd endure the life of a fated hero a thousand times more if that was the price set for choosing Fleur.
For she is his path, now and always, in this world or any other
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Pillow Love
Harry and Fleur's little cottage stood alone on a cliff overlooking the sea, it was located on the outskirts of Tinworth, Cornwall, near the coast. Looking at the cottage, visitors would often describe it as a "lonely and beautiful place". The cottage had been gifted to them by Arthur and Molly as a wedding present. Harry; however, loved the isolation of the place as it kept himself and his wife away from prying eyes.
It all started innocently, you see. Harry Potter began collecting feathers when his wife Fleur would sometimes shift into her Veela form during their "private" times. Harry found them to be rather soft and exquisite.
Fleur found the sight amusing and once asked her husband, "'Arry? What are you doing wiz zose?"
Harry replied with a grin, "Pillows, love!"
Fleur giggled and let a few more feathers drop as she watched her husband pick them up.
Indeed, Harry made a few pillows from the feathers he had collected. There were a couple that he kept in a lounge chair in his office at Hogwarts. Rather than become an Auror, he accepted the position of DADA Professor when it was offered to him by Headmistress McGonagall. His personal office would soon gain a reputation that it seemed to radiate a warmth and welcome not found in other professor's offices.
Harry also collected the feathers his two daughters or chiclets (he adored that term), Victoire and Émilie, would drop when he and Fleur, or their friends, would play with them. He turned those into bedroom pillows for himself and Fleur.
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Prompt: 190
Based off this picture, postwar, maybe post losing Bill:
The streetlights flickered softly, the ornate wrought iron lamps that had first held lanterns, and then gas torches, finally modernized to run off of electricity. There were few walking the streets they illuminated, and on this road only one.
She shivered, the biting wind scything through her coat like it was made of sheer fabric rather than rich wool. She did not draw her wand to warm herself, nor did she extend a hand to conjure a flame. Others would have said she was merely refraining from performing magic on the streets of Paris, that she refused to risk so flagrant a break of the statute of secrecy in public. The truth was that the cold simply didn't matter, that it couldn't be any further from her mind and thoughts.
She came to a halt on the bank of the river Seine. Leaning against the old stone railing guarding passersby from falling in, she pulled a box of muggle cigarettes from her pocket. The aim of her late night wandering, Harry had often warned her against them. Her friend had not abandoned her after she lost everything, but Harry was not here. She pulled one from its case and, with touch of a raised finger, ignited it. As she took a long drag, the acrid smoke pouring into her lungs, Fleur Delacour leaned heavily against the railing, and dared not think of better days.