Arrogance. Pride. The values of a Gryffindor. But also, often, their flaws.
Everyone expected Harry Potter to do great things in his life, doubly so after Voldemort fell. But Harry… didnt. He had grown complacent in his skill, unwilling, unable to move on from his fight against the Dark Lord. No matter how much he wanted it, he simply couldn't bring himself to try, to learn and grow and become something. And slowly, his friends and family drifted away or were pushed away, moving on, growing, and Harry Potter found himself left behind, in the dark, the same man he had been when he defeated Voldemort five years ago. And in time, Harry Potter faded from the public eye, and was forgotten.
That was how Fleur Delcour found her friend, listless and undriven, in a dingy pub in Muggle London, trying his hardest to get drunk for the nth day in a row. He’d surrendered to life, and his own weakness, convinced that he had ruined his own life, and that there was nothing left to do but try to get by, day by day.
And Fleur would not stand for it. This wasn't the Harry Potter she knew. This wasn't the hopeful, determined fourteen year old she had competed against. This wasn't the friend she had made.
And she refused to let him drive himself to ruin. She would ensure that Harry Potter lived up to his potential, come hell or high water. She couldn't do it alone, but she never had to. Harry had friends, he had people who loved him. They would save their friend from himself.
Whatever it took