Epilogue
A/N
So, this is it.
Once again, I would like to thank you all for the support and following this story.
I had a lot of fun writing this and do have another three (minimum) Harry/Fleur stories I will be writing in the future.
As always, do check out my other platforms where I post a weekly podcast, original work and a plethora of other stuff. (It really is as cheap as a cup of coffee to join).
But anyway, truly, thank you all for your continued support and enjoy this final part of 'A Flower for the Soul'.
TBR
This chapter is dedicated to Emily, a young lady currently fighting an awful disease. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family at this trying time x
It was in a room in St Mungo's he woke up in, his aching body causing him to groan in protest. He had not escaped the fight with Voldemort as unscathed as he first thought. When he knew that Sebastien still lived and the adrenaline had worn off, he had all but collapsed from his own injuries.
His already ailing arm had been broken, he had suffered several cuts and the final curse he had been hit with had left him with significant burns across his chest and shoulder. He'd already doubted the recovery of his arm, now, he knew it would unlikely be the same again.
"How are you feeling, Harry?" a pale and exhausted Sirius asked.
The man had not slept, that much was evident. The bags under his eyes were dark, his hair unkempt and skill paler than usual. There was also a smell of stale sweat about him and Harry could only nod, appreciating that he had not been left alone.
"Could be worse," he muttered.
Sirius offered him a smile before leaving his chair and wrapping his arms around him gently.
"You did it," he whispered, relieved. "I'm so proud of you."
Harry shook his head, his nose wrinkling.
"You stink," he pointed out.
"You don't smell too fresh yourself," Sirius chuckled as he took his seat once more.
They fell silent for a moment before the teen broke it.
"How is everything?"
Sirius shrugged.
"We lost a few Order members, some aurors were killed at Hogsmeade, but it is about as good as we could have hoped for," he answered. "Rudolphus is dead, Barty Crouch Jr was burned at the Ministry and the only one unaccounted for is Rookwood. They'll catch him eventually."
Harry nodded, satisfied that his efforts weren't in vain.
"What about Sebastien?"
Sirius offered him a comforting smile.
"He's doing well, under the circumstances. The curse he was hit with was one of Dolohov's favourites. He's lucky to be alive. Both Fleur and Apolline are with him."
With some difficulty, Harry leaned up against his pillows, a frown creasing his brow.
"What's wrong?" Sirius questioned.
"I don't know what to do," Harry replied. "Everything I've ever done was so I could beat him. Now that's done, I feel lost."
Sirius offered him a look of sympathy only for a knock on the door to interrupt them before he could answer. "Minister," he greeted the man as he peered from around the door.
"I won't stay long," Greengrass assured them as he entered. "How're you feeling, Potter?"
"Probably not any better than I look."
Greengrass snorted as he offered him a newspaper he had been holding under his arm.
"I wanted you to see this before anyone else. This is a copy of the morning edition of the Daily Prophet. I'll leave it with you and suggest you enjoy the peace while it lasts," he suggested as he headed back towards the door, pausing as he opened it. "Thank you, Potter, for what you've done. That's from me as a father and a husband. You'll undoubtedly be receiving a more formal gesture of gratitude in the weeks to come. For now, I've posted two aurors to guard your room, out of precaution and to give you some privacy."
Harry could only sigh as the door clicked shut once more and prepared himself for the worst as he unfurled the newspaper he had been handed.
Potter Triumphs Over You-Know-Who!
By Rita Skeeter
As much as he wished to, he could find no fault with the article. For once, Skeeter had explained the series of events as they had happened, though Harry suspected Greengrass had a lot of input on it. She had written of most of what had transpired at the Ministry and Hogsmeade, given credit where it was due. She had sung the praises of Madame Bones who had offered her own information of what she and her team had done.
In all, there was nothing disagreeable, even if he did now dread the attention he would get. Not that he needed to be here to endure it. He could always take a few weeks away from Britain at home.
The thought filled him with relief as Sirius perused the article also, nodding as he read.
"You can't really argue with her version," he muttered.
"No," Harry agreed. "Where's Remus?"
"He's helping Dumbledore make arrangements for the Order members."
Harry nodded.
"Who did you lose?"
"Emmeline, Mundungus, Sturgis and Bill," Sirius answered.
"Weasley?"
Sirius nodded.
"He got on the wrong side of Dolohov too. He was a dangerous man. I doubt anyone other than you or Dumbledore could have managed him."
"Is he dead?"
Sirius shook his head.
"Dumbledore captured him, but people will demand the death sentence for him. They will be scared You-Know-Who will be back…"
"He won't," Harry cut in.
"No, but that's what they will believe. It's happened once and that's all they'll remember."
Harry frowned for a moment.
"I suppose it's better if they have that at the back of their minds. It will mean they won't get complacent and any other Dark Lord that comes along won't have such an easy time."
"True," Sirius conceded with a yawn.
"Bloody hell, go home and get some sleep," Harry urged. "You're not doing anything being sat there."
"I'm looking out for you," Sirius countered.
"And I am fine," Harry insisted. "Go have a shower and get some sleep."
Sirius eyed him speculatively for a moment before standing.
"Alright, but I'll be back in the morning. Do you need me to bring you anything?"
"Not anything I can think of," Harry answered tiredly, the sudden need for more rest overwhelming him.
"Good, I will see you soon," Sirius promised.
Harry could barely acknowledge the words, nor did he hear the door close as sleep took him once more.
(Break)
She dared not allow herself to rest any more than she was currently. She had settled into a chair next to her father's bed but leaned forward to remain awake. She was terrified that if she slept, he would stop breathing. It was an odd thought but not one she could rid herself of.
Her mother had arrived shortly after they had, her usually calm demeanour all but absent as she took in her husband's appearance. She had fretted over him, chided him and sobbed over his unmoving form. Much to Fleur's relief, however, he had woken up just long enough to assure them that he would be fine.
He had slept since and her mother had joined him, both of her delicate hands wrapped around one of his larger ones as they slumbered, him beneath the white, medical sheets and her in a chair that matched Fleur's own.
"How is he doing?"
Her eyes snapped towards the door and her chest welled with relief as Harry hobbled in.
She stood and he wrapped his arms around her.
"You should be resting," she murmured. "I tried to come but the aurors would not let me in."
"Minister's orders," he huffed irritably. "How is he?"
Fleur could only shrug, not knowing what to say. He had woken up briefly, but he still looked as pale, the wound across his chest was raw and oozing an unsightly fluid, but he yet drew breath.
"I don't know, 'Arry," she replied honestly.
Harry nodded as he took a seat, stirring Apolline as he struggled to move it closer to Fleur's.
"You silly boy," the woman chastised sleepily as she helped him before pulling her into his arms and pressing her lips to his forehead. "You should be in bed."
He offered her a warm smile and shook his head.
"I've slept enough. I just want to see how he is."
Apolline released a deep breath.
"Sebastien is as foolish and brave as ever," she bemoaned, "just as 'e was when we first met."
"I didn't know he would be there," Harry sighed.
"Non, but 'e would be furious if 'e wasn't. 'E loves you very much, 'Arry. I would 'ave been there too if I knew."
"'E made me tell 'im," Fleur broke in. "'E knew something was 'appening and I could not keep it from 'im."
"Non, you could not," Apolline muttered. "You could never keep anything from 'im."
"I am 'ere, you know," Sebastien mumbled, startling the trio.
Apolline immediately took her space next to him, took his hands once more and began rambling in French in words spoken too quickly for Harry to decipher.
" I will be fine, Apolline," Sebastien assured her when she took a needed breath. "You know I had to be there for them."
" I should 'ave been there too!"
Sebastien shook his head.
"Non, if anything would 'ave 'appened you needed to be there for Gabrielle," he countered. "You will be mad at me, but you will forgive me eventually."
"I would not be so sure, Sebastien Delacour," Apolline bit back. "If you were not already 'ere, you would need to be."
Sebastien chuckled and coughed from the exertion, waving off his wife who began trying to force him to drink water.
"There is the woman I married," he croaked amusedly. "You always knew I as a fool. I thought you would be used to it by now."
Apolline shook her head.
"No one could get used to such a fool."
Sebastien grinned weakly as his eyes roamed over Harry.
"I cannot put into words 'ow proud I am of you. You did it, 'Arry, I always knew you would."
"Then why did you have to be there?" Harry returned irritably.
"Because there is no one else I trust to watch over my daughter. You could not look out for 'er, so I 'ad to be there. You will understand when you become a father yourself. I also said that France would not stand behind you, but I would. I meant what I said, 'Arry"
Harry could only nod his acceptance.
"You would not be so accepting if I said I was also there for you, so we will leave it at that," the man added with a wink. "All that matters is that we are all 'ere and it is done. I could not be 'appier than I am."
"I bet you would be if you weren't missing half of your bloody chest," Harry returned.
"Oui, but I will take it. Besides, it gives me quite the rugged look, non?"
Apolline narrowed her eyes at her husband, fighting her own grin.
"Shut up, Sebastien," she replied. "Now, get some rest. My mother will be 'aving words with you when we get 'ome."
" Merde," the man cursed, aghast at the thought of his mother in law positively rubbing her hands with glee at the prospect of telling him off.
"Until then, you should be resting, as should you, 'Arry," Apolline added in a tone that left no room for argument.
"I will take 'im back to 'is room," Fleur insisted.
Having no reason to disagree, Harry allowed himself to be led from the room and to his own, the aurors eying Fleur warily as they approached.
"She can come and go as she pleases," he informed them, and though they looked uncertain for a moment, both obliged with a nod.
He didn't need it, but Fleur helped him back into bed and proceeded to tuck him in, her eyes not meeting his as if she was uncertain about something.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
She swallowed deeply and shrugged.
"I lost control of myself, 'Arry."
"For a good reason," he pointed out. "Don't feel bad for what happened to them. If you hadn't had done what you had, more people might have died, or your father wouldn't have gotten help in time."
"I know," she conceded.
"Then don't think about it. It won't do you any good," he suggested. "What happened is done and we came out of it on the other side. That's all that matters."
She nodded her agreement as gently wrapped her arm around his neck.
"And what about you? You are very distracted, 'Arry."
"I suppose I'm feeling a bit lost," he admitted. "For years I've waited for this to be over with so I could get on with my life. It was everything I worked towards."
She offered him a sympathetic smile.
"You 'ave other things now. You 'ave your masteries and anything else that you want to do, whatever that is. And you 'ave me," she added.
He nodded.
"Maybe I just need to get used to not having this hanging over me anymore," he mused aloud. "It will take some time."
"Oui, but you 'ave all the time in the world now, 'Arry. 'E is gone, and you are 'ere. You don't 'ave to make any decisions until you are ready."
"That is true," he conceded. "Is it wrong that I still don't have a solid plan?"
Fleur shook her head.
"You're almost sixteen, you don't need to know what your future will 'old yet. You should just enjoy what you 'ave for a little while and see what 'appens. There is nothing wrong with that."
He smiled as he nodded. The thought of not having to think about what was to come filled him with a lightness he had never felt.
There was no longer a Dark Lord lurking in the shadows intent on killing him. There was no prophecy, no Death Eaters and no pressure. He would come of age in a little over a year and would have to be solely responsible for running two families. Now, however, it was not something he had to think about now.
For the first time in his life, he could simply enjoy what he had, and as he took her hand in his own, that was all he wanted to do.
He would not burden himself with what may or may not come to pass but he would live in the moment for a while. After all he had endured and achieved, he had earned a little respite.
(Break)
July 31 st , 1997
He had seldom been seen in public in Britain having spent much of his time either at Hogwarts, at home or with the Delacours. Today, however, he was obligated to make an appearance to formally accept the headship of the Potter and Black families in front of the Wizengamot.
He suspected that Minister Greengrass had scheduled todays meeting to coincide with his coming of age. It was the kind of thing the man would do.
With the victory over Voldemort, Greengrass had been given the position permanently, and though Harry would unlikely ever warm to any politician, he was doing a considerably better job than Fudge ever had, even if he had instigated the talks of him being awarded with a second Order of Merlin. That had been the one unavoidable engagement he'd had to attend, but he was not the only one to be bestowed with such.
Amelia Bones had received her recognition also for her efforts, so the proceedings had been shared by the two.
That had been only a few short months after he had killed Voldemort, and since, he had kept himself out of the public sphere, had continued with his own learning and teaching, and back to his life of peaceful privacy.
Until today.
"If you keep that expression on your face, you will look like 'im," Fleur warned, pointing to the portrait of Arcturus Black that now hung in his kitchen.
The man had insisted that he be available whenever Harry needed him and had seemingly wanted a change of scenery from his view of the library in Grimmauld Place. As such, Harry had moved him here, and though his advice was invaluable, he was still surly at the best of times.
Even now, he glared at the veela, his steely grey eyes boring into her.
"Better than being a grinning, snivelling buffoon," he bit back.
"Oui, but 'e does not need to look like 'e 'as a lemon shoved up his backside, non?"
Arcturus merely grumbled under his breath. The two often found themselves at odds but he liked and approved of her. He could not stomach 'simpering wenches', as he referred to typical pureblood women. Fleur, if anything, was not one of those and would speak her mind to the former lord.
"Now, just you remember, boy, none of them are fit to wipe the shit from between your cheeks," Arcturus reminded him for the dozenth time in his own oddly poetic way. "If anyone objects, pull their arsehole up over their ears. You are the Lord Black and there is none that could hope to compare to you."
Fleur offered the man a look of disapproval as Harry grinned. Arcturus had grown on him and he appreciated the advice he gave, even if only for the comic relief he offered.
"I will," he replied amusedly. "Anything else?"
Arcturus nodded.
"Tell Dumbledore that even though I'm dead, I still can't stand the git."
"I'll pass on the message," Harry chuckled as he and Fleur left the room.
"Are you ready for this?" she asked, noticing his hesitation.
He nodded as he took her hand and activated the portkey.
"I have to be," he answered as they appeared in the same alleyway Kingsley and Tonks had brought him to for his trial. "Let's get this over with and then we can go home. We have a whole summer to enjoy."
Fleur's eyes lit up. Both were busy and spent as much of the weekends together as they could, but the summer gave them all the time they wanted.
They were both expecting to finish their apprenticeships within the next two years, but until then, they had to make do.
Much to Harry's relief, his stint as the Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor had ended shortly after the fall of Voldemort, and Remus had been reinstated, the influence Harry had obtained being put to good use. The man was an excellent practitioner and the governors had offered little resistance to the idea, especially when Harry attended their meeting and backed the werewolf.
It was the only time he had used his reputation to gain anything, but he reminded himself it was not for selfish reasons. Remus deserved the opportunity and the students deserved a competent professor.
As expected, Remus had done a fantastic job thus far and the school was much better off for his presence.
Harry was pleased for the werewolf. He could think of no one who would do better in the position.
"L-Lord Potter," the guard behind the desk greeted him.
Harry sighed as he shook his head.
"Bloody hell, Winston, if anyone in this dump has earned the right to call me by my first name, it's you. You were the one that warned me about the trial and conveniently forgot to take my wand from me."
The man flushed as he held a finger to his lips.
"Not too loud, I don't want to lose my job."
Harry smirked at him.
"I won't breathe a word," he promised. "How is your son doing?"
Winston deflated.
"He is an adventurous sod," he despaired. "Just last week, he crashed through the neighbour's fence on his broom. Of course, it was my fault."
Harry snorted as he patted his shoulder comfortingly.
"You're such a bad influence, Winston."
The man grinned and shrugged as he scanned Harry's and Fleur's wands before handing them back.
"It's a full house in there today," he muttered. "I expect they're waiting for you."
"As you were?" Harry questioned. "You've never referred to me as Lord Potter before."
Winston shrugged.
"Orders from the top. They all want to pucker up and kiss your arse."
Harry released a deep sigh as he gave the man a nod of gratitude and began making his way towards the Wizengamot chambers.
Fleur slid her arm in his, all too amused by the situation for his liking.
"It's not funny."
"Of course they want to make a good impression, 'Arry. You might not like it, but you are an 'ero."
Harry shook his head.
"I'm not anyone's hero," he denied. "I'd rather they all buggered off and left me alone."
"You know that is not going to 'appen," Fleur sighed. "Whenever you are 'ere, they will want to see you, they will take pictures and will want some of your time."
"That's why I don't live here. Maybe one day they'll get the message," he added as he opened the door to the chambers.
It was strange how a room that had been so loud could fall so suddenly silent. All eyes were on him and Fleur as they entered, the flashes and clicks of cameras the only sound to be heard above their footsteps until those within erupted with applause and cheering.
Harry nodded politely through the awkwardness he felt, and Fleur squeezed him arm encouragingly.
When the room had fallen quiet, Minister Greengrass greeted him with a bow from behind his podium.
"Lord Potter, please take your seat, the meeting will begin shortly," he said, gesturing just behind him where Harry's combined seat had been placed.
The Potters and Blacks had sat on opposite sides of the room for centuries. Now, they would be placed together away from both the darker and lighter sides. He would vote on what he believed in and would not be coerced by any of those that would likely try to influence him.
"It's good to see you, Lord Potter," Lord Boot whispered as Harry watched Fleur take her seat in the public gallery. "Terry asked me to tell you not to get too comfortable. He will be here in just a few years to put you in your place."
Harry snorted; garnering looks of disapproval from some of his peers. For now, he would have to endure this place alone, though the prospect of Terry joining him in the future made it all the more palatable.
Perhaps it would not be so bad after all. There were certainly worse things than being a Lord. Regardless, it was something he would have to get used to. He would be spending many years coming back and forth to these chambers, after all.
(Break)
Two Years Later…
He once again found himself seated in front of his mentors, the diminutive Professor Flitwick's gaze sweeping over his latest submission of charms work, his head nodding before he looked up at Harry and gave him a smile.
"This is exceptional work, Harry," he praised. "There are very few who can demonstrate this level of understanding when it comes to charms. I must say, your theory and practical work has been exemplary as always."
Harry offered the man an appreciative nod.
He had been working tirelessly on his masteries and the praise of the man meant a lot to him.
"I agree with Filius," Minerva chimed in. "It has been a joy to watch you grow. You have done all we have asked of you and more. I think it is time that you are put out of your misery and be given this," she added as she removed a scroll from her top drawer and handed it to him.
Harry unrolled it, his heart soaring at the sight of the missive from the Transfiguration Guild naming him a Master of the Art, though he frowned as he took note of a small detail.
"This is dated six months ago," he pointed out.
Minerva nodded casually and took a sip of her tea.
"Think of it as supplementary education," she suggested. "Albus and I wanted to see if we could push you even further. Again, you proved to us both that you can exceed at any challenge we put before you."
Harry snorted as he shook his head. Perhaps he should be irritated with them both, but he had thoroughly enjoyed working with the headmaster in recent months. The man was truly an incredible practitioner and Harry had learned much from his time with him.
"I took no part in such tactics," Filius broke in as he handed him a second scroll. "It truly is a pleasure to count you as an equal, Harry. I can only echo the sentiment that it has been a joy to watch you grow and I look forward to seeing where you take your talents."
Harry nodded and offered the man his hand which was taken promptly.
"Thank you," he said sincerely. "You've both made my life hell at times, but I appreciate it. I can't think of anything else I would have rather been doing than working with you."
He meant it too. Even without the burden of Voldemort weighing on him, he had been at a loss as to what he wanted to do. With his studies at an end, he felt the same loss and wondered what he would do now.
He frowned at the thought.
"There was something else I wished to discuss with you," Minerva's nervous voice pulled him from his thoughts. She shared a look with her colleague and deflated slightly before continuing. "My time as a Professor is at an end. I have taught here for over five decades and my retirement is long overdue. I would like you to consider replacing me as the new Transfiguration Professor starting in September. I can think of no other that could good do as fine a job as you, Harry."
He was taken aback by the revelation; the words Fleur had spoken to him so long ago playing over in his mind. She had overheard Minerva say this very thing to Filius, and as he looked into his mentor's eyes, he could see that she meant it.
To him, she had always been the stern, no-nonsense Head of Gryffindor House. Looking upon her now, she was an aging and tired woman and one that had earned her rest. She had dedicated her life to the castle and what remained of it should be her own.
Teaching was something he could do, something he enjoyed also. To him, watching the students enter the classroom and leave with new skills had been one of the most satisfying parts of his apprenticeship. He had even considered applying for his own post when he was done with his studies. It seemed now that the opportunity had found him.
He nodded, a genuine smile pulling at his lips.
"I would like to accept," he answered, laughing as she breathed a sigh of relief. "Does Albus know you were going to ask me?"
Minerva nodded, smiling brightly, her eyes full of unshed tears.
"The damned fool is willing to offer you the Deputy Head role to keep you here," she chuckled. "I think he was more nervous than me about approaching you."
She released another deep breath as she stood and wrapped her arms around him.
"Thank you, Harry," she offered sincerely. "I feel much better knowing that I am leaving the students in your hands."
"I've got some bloody big shoes to fill," he sighed good naturedly. "I should probably go and break the news to Fleur."
"How is she doing?" Filius asked.
She had finished her mastery just before Christmas and was hoping to succeed as the Charms Mistress at Beauxbatons, eventually. For now, she was enjoying a respite, though she was quickly growing bored of it. Harry expected that it wouldn't be long before she found something else to throw herself into.
"She's doing well," he replied with a shrug. "Bored out of her mind for the most part. She even enchanted my door to shout at me if I don't wipe my feet," he added with a frown.
Filius smirked openly.
"She will find her calling," he assured Harry.
"I hope so," Harry sighed. "If anything else in my house starts shouting at me, I'll have to move. Anyway, that's my problem to deal with, I'm sure Dumbledore will be in touch with the details."
Minerva nodded.
"And don't be a stranger," she said as he reached the door. "I may no longer be your Professor, but I will be keeping an eye on you, Potter."
Harry smiled as he shook his head.
"I have no doubt you will," he muttered, closing the door to the office behind him as he left.
He barely made it to the Entrance Hall when Dumbledore came upon him, having seemingly taken a stroll in the grounds with Fawkes perched on one of his shoulders.
"Ah, Harry," he greeted him, the fabricated surprise not fooling the younger man.
"I've already agreed," Harry replied. "Your sudden appearance isn't really a surprise."
"No, I don't suppose it would be anymore," the headmaster returned thoughtfully. "I fear we have spent too much time together and it looks like our journey has just begun. I am sure you will be a worthy successor to Minerva."
"That remains to be seen," Harry countered. "She's leaving behind quite the legacy."
"As I'm sure you will too. Teaching is perhaps the most noble of callings and you are better suited to it than many. You are talented and not so old that you have forgotten what it is like to be on the other side of the desk. I predict a bright future for you here."
"I didn't know you had taken up Divination. Have you finally exhausted every other magical art?"
Dumbledore chuckled.
"No, I never had such a talent, and for that, I am grateful. People tend to think I am whimsical enough without the addition of prophecies and reading tealeaves."
"Only because that is what you want them to think," Harry replied amusedly. "We both know that you are as shrewd as they come and hide behind a veil of affability and benevolence. Other people might fall for it, but I know you, Albus. You're as sly as a fox. If I would have refused the post, you would have found a way to get me here. Is it odd that I respect that about you?"
"No, I don't believe so," the older man mused aloud. "I have spent my life dealing with people such as myself with intentions not always so benign. Perhaps I am merely a product of my environment whereas you have remained true to yourself. You are, forgive me, as blunt and candid as ever. I find it to be rather refreshing."
"That I'm not afraid to tell you that you're a mental old bastard?"
"Precisely," Dumbledore acknowledged as he began walking towards the staircase, pausing as he took the lowermost step. "Never change, Harry. I will be in touch shortly with details about your latest undertaking."
He watched as the headmaster ascended the stairs before exiting the castle and making his way out of the gates. When he crossed the threshold, he activated his portkey and arrived outside the wards of the Delacour home. Though the war was over, Sebastien had kept them in place.
Walking across the grounds, he relaxed as he always had been here. There was something comforting about the home, that had never changed for him. Even when Voldemort had been alive, he always felt safe here, had always been able to forget the word beyond for a while.
"I thought it was you, 'Arry," Sebastien greeted him as he entered the kitchen. "They 'ave gone to fetch Gabrielle."
Harry nodded, remembering that the now fourteen-year-old was returning from her fourth year at Beauxbatons. He hadn't seen her since Christmas, though Sebastien spoke of his frustration with his youngest daughter. She had proven to be much less reserved than Fleur and often found herself in detention for her rambunctious behaviour. Although Harry hadn't voiced such, he was pleased she stuck up for herself and wouldn't allow anyone to talk down to her because of her heritage.
He did wish, however, that she would not use him to threaten her classmates and the older students. He had even received a letter from a concerned parent apologising for how their son had acted towards Gabrielle and begging him not to enact a feud against them.
Sebastien had found the entire situation hilarious; Apolline, not so much. She had warned Gabrielle about using his reputation to scare people, and thankfully, it had not happened since, that he knew of.
"I'd forgotten she was back today," he replied. "Any more trouble?"
Sebastien shook his head.
"I doubt we will know until she tells us," he sighed. "I am pleased she is the way she is, but she goes over the top. Did I tell you about the incident with the 'orse shit?"
Harry shook his head.
"One of the Professors made a comment about 'er being a veela and she did not take it well. She snuck into 'is quarters and filled 'is mattress with it," he chuckled.
Harry snorted amusedly. It was the kind of thing she would do.
"'ARRY!"
He had to steady himself as the girl launched herself at him having entered the kitchen with Apolline, Fleur and Aline in tow.
"You've grown," he commented, frowning slightly at Sebastien who gave him a severe nod.
"That is what 'appens when you are becoming a woman," Fleur broke in. "You do not think I was born this way, do you?"
"No, I've seen the photos," Harry replied, eliciting a scowl from the woman towards her father who had shared the images of a younger Fleur with Harry. "I thought my first birthday with you was carnage. The poor cake didn't stand a chance."
Fleur pouted before grinning. The decimation of various cakes had happened in the intervening years and it never became a civil affair. Harry had to remain content with enjoying a single slice before the feeding frenzy began, though his comparison of them to the pigeons in Trafalgar Square had seen him go without entirely the previous year.
"I do 'ope you're not thinking about making a silly comment," Fleur warned, noting his grin.
"Of course not," he answered. "I was just thinking about the fact that I am now a Master in both Charms and Transfiguration."
Her eyes widened as he removed the scrolls.
"You've finished?" she questioned as she looked them both over.
He nodded.
"I have. You can't lord it over me now, and I won't be calling you mistress anymore either."
Fleur blushed bright red as her parents and grandmother looked at her questioningly, the latter fighting a smirk.
"I really did not need to 'ear that," Sebastien groaned.
"Non, 'e did not mean it like that," Fleur defended. "Tell them you did not mean it, 'Arry."
"I didn't," he sighed.
"Thank Merlin. I thought I would 'ave to get the chastity belt out," Sebastien grumbled.
"You will not," Fleur bit back hotly, blushing once more at her impulsive rebuttal.
"Maybe you should all shut up," Apolline suggested. "Congratulations 'Arry. We are very proud of you."
" Especially Fleur. Maybe she can call you master instead, oui," Aline added.
" Maman!" Apolline chided. "You're not helping."
Aline shrugged as she withdrew a cigarette and lit it.
" Not you, non, but maybe I am helping them," she returned as she walked out of the back door, leaving a group of stunned and embarrassed people in her wake.
"Anyway," Harry said, breaking the silence. "Minerva has decided she is going to retire and wants me to take her place."
"You're going to be a Professor?" Sebastien asked.
Harry nodded.
"I've accepted the offer."
Sebastien smiled at him proudly as he stood, grimacing slightly as the scarred flesh across his torso pulled. His wound had never fully recovered and the scar he had been left with was quite the sight to behold. It stretched from just below his neckline past his ribs. It truly was a wonder he had survived.
"I could not be any prouder of you than I am, 'Arry," he said as he pulled him into an embrace. "We should celebrate. 'Ow about we go out for dinner tonight and Gabrielle can tell us about all the trouble she 'as been getting into, oui?"
The girl had the decency to at least look sheepish, though Harry knew better. She was not at all sorry for anything she may have done.
"I think that is a good idea," Apolline agreed. "Come Gabrielle, you 'ave to unpack."
The girl mumbled under her breath but followed her mother, nonetheless.
"It will be a few hours before we go anywhere," Sebastien snorted. "I 'ave some letters to send so I will see you both later, oui?"
Harry nodded and Sebastien patted him on the back before taking his leave also.
"I am so 'appy for you, 'Arry," Fleur offered sincerely as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "You 'ave worked so 'ard for this."
He nodded. The past two years had been draining but worth it, for them both.
"Shall we go to the beach for a couple of hours?" he asked.
Fleur nodded readily as she took his hand and all but dragged him from the house.
In only a few moments, they had cleared the wards and she had activated the portkey she kept on her. The beach was her favourite place to be and they often came here when they had the chance. He suspected that Sebastien and Apolline knew but they had never mentioned it.
As had become his custom, he removed his shoes and socks before rolling up his trousers and walking towards the sea where he stood and allowed the cool water to pass over his feet. There was something so soothing about the simple act. He could never quite figure out what it was, but it helped to centre him.
"I still love it 'ere," Fleur murmured as she joined him, resting her head on his shoulder.
He had grown to be a head taller than her, much to her amusement. Before he'd had his growth spurt, they had been the same height, something that changed over the course of the previous summer.
"Me too," he agreed.
"What's wrong, 'Arry?" she asked, noticing his demeanour had changed.
She had become rather adept at reading his moods over the years and he seldom could keep them from her. She saw through them immediately.
"Nothing is wrong," he denied. "I've just been thinking recently."
"Thinking about what?" she pressed, a light frown creasing her brow.
"Just, everything I suppose," he replied. "I never thought my life would turn out this way. I always thought I was doomed to a miserable existence until he would put an end to it."
"I always knew you would beat 'im."
"That makes one of us," he chuckled.
They fell silent for a moment before he spoke once more, his words eliciting a deeper frown from the woman.
"Do you remember the night of the third task after I woke up?"
Fleur swallowed deeply as she nodded.
"As much as I wish to, I cannot forget it."
Harry nodded is understanding.
"I said to you that I wouldn't want to live my life without you in it. Do you remember?"
She nodded once more.
"It was the sweetest thing you ever said to me," she said in just above a whisper.
"I still mean that, more now than I did then," he revealed as he turned to face her. "As much as you say that I saved your life that night, I see it differently. You saved me. I don't know what I would have done without you. I don't know if I would have been able to do what I did, and I certainly wouldn't be standing here now."
Fleur shook her head.
"You would 'ave still won, 'Arry."
"Maybe," he conceded, "but we wouldn't be where we are now if things had been different. Maybe you were meant to come along when you did or maybe it all happened by chance. I don't know but what I can be sure of is that I meant what I said to you that night and I want you to marry me," he blurted as he removed the box he had kept in his pocket for the past several weeks.
Fleur's eyes widened in shock as she stared at the ring in front of her.
After a moment of this, without warning, she threw herself into his arms and he caught her as she sobbed into his shoulder.
"I don't know what that means," he muttered, feeling slightly awkward at the unexpected reaction.
"Of course, I will marry you, you silly man," she mumbled into his shoulder.
A wave of relief like nothing he had ever felt washed over him. Even the elation of watching Voldemort die could not compare to this and he knew he had done the right thing.
He laughed as she held out her hand expectantly and he placed the ring on her finger, enjoying watching her stare at it in awe.
"It is beautiful," she whispered.
"It was my mother's," he explained.
He had poured over the collection of jewellery in the Potter vault for hours before deciding on this one and hoped that his mother would not be offended. Sirius had assured him that Lily would give him her blessing and that had made his mind up.
His godfather had been surprised with his intention to propose, but not as much as Sebastien had. That was not a conversation Harry would ever forget. It would forever stand as a defining moment for him.
Flashback
He had never felt this kind of nervousness. He had known fear throughout much of his life and had adapted to cope with it, but there was no respite from the anxiety that had settled in the pit of his stomach at the thought of what he was about to do.
For weeks he had thought about where he was in his life, where he was going and what he was going to do. He had no definitive answers though there was one thing he did know. Wherever the future carried him and no matter what he did, she would be a part of it, and he needed her to know that.
"Are you alright, 'Arry?" Sebastien questioned, breaking into his prevailing thoughts. "You are very distracted, non?"
"I'm fine, well… I don't know," he admitted.
The man offered him a comforting smile and gestured for him to sit as he took a seat on the other side of the kitchen table.
"I'm sure it can't be so bad," Sebastien chuckled, wincing as he rubbed his chest.
"No, it's not. I don't think it is," he added with a shrug.
"Then let us see if we can fix it, oui?"
Harry nodded, his eyes tracing the pattern of the wood of the top of the table that had suddenly become very interesting to him. Shaking his head knowing he needed to focus, he released a deep breath.
"I would like your permission to marry Fleur."
It was as though every sound that would normally be heard in the kitchen had ceased, waiting for Sebastien's reaction. When he said nothing for several moments, Harry chanced a glance upwards.
The man looked as though he had been hit with a petrification charm. His mouth had fallen agape, and he had paled considerably. Harry began to feel concerned that he'd had a stroke of sorts until he stood.
For a second, Harry thought he was going to be throttled but found himself being crushed by a tight embrace.
"I 'ave been waiting for this day, 'Arry," Sebastien choked. "Of course, you 'ave my blessing. Did you think I would say no?"
"I wasn't sure," Harry admitted, the wave of relief washing over him a welcome feeling.
"You silly boy," Sebastien chided, "you are family as far as we are concerned. I've always been proud to think of you as my own son, and now you will be. Apolline will be so pleased, when are you going to ask her?"
"I don't know, I haven't thought that far ahead."
Sebastien nodded thoughtfully.
"Then we will keep it between us until you do, oui? Apolline cannot keep a secret. Fleur will know within the hour."
Harry could only chuckle, the blessing of the man cementing his intentions. He would ask her when the moment felt right, but knowing Sebastien was happy meant more to him than he could ever express to him. He respected the man deeply, had grown to care for him and the rest of the Delacours over the years as though they were his family.
Perhaps that truly would be soon enough.
End Flashback
"Non, 'Arry, I cannot wear 'er ring," Fleur whispered.
Her eyes were transfixed on the platinum band with the single diamond set in. She had already become fond of it and spoke only because she did not want to insult his mother or father.
"She would want you to," he replied. "If there's anything that I've learnt about my mum, it's that she would want you to have it. Sirius thinks so too."
Fleur nodded as she continued to stare at the ring adorning her finger.
"It is beautiful."
"It is," Harry agreed, "and is better on you than gathering dust in a vault. She won't miss it where she is but I'm certain she would be honoured knowing that it is being taken care of."
"Then I will wear it proudly," Fleur declared.
Harry smiled as he took her hand in his own and twirled her amongst the waves. This had been the right moment, and though he could have perhaps made it more romantic, it could not have gone better.
"Does anyone else know?" Fleur asked.
"Only your father and Sirius," Harry explained. "Sebastien thought your mother would tell you."
Fleur laughed as she nodded.
"Oui, she would 'ave. Can we go and tell 'er now?"
He nodded, knowing she would be restless until she had done so.
With a wave of his wand, he dried his feet and put on his shoes and socks whilst she fought the urge to hurry him along.
"Alright, I'm ready."
He had barely finished his sentence when she took him by the arm and activated the same portkey that had brought them here. When they arrived just outside the Delacour property, she dragged him to the house and into the kitchen where the rest of the Delacours had gathered.
" Fleur, what is wrong?" Apolline asked noticing something that Harry could not see.
Fleur had frozen on the spot and when he looked at her it was to see a tear rolling down each cheek.
Sebastien was the first to catch on, his eyes flitting between his daughter's hand and her face. Upon doing so, he nudged is wife and nodded towards the ring.
Apolline was struck for a moment before she unleashed a torrent of French and all but squeezed the air from Fleur's lungs, both overcome with the emotion of the moment.
Aline and Gabrielle joined them when they realised what had happened and Harry soon found himself wrapped in his soon to be mother in law's arms as she rambled in her native tongue.
The eldest of the Veela merely gave him a nod of approval, a gesture he knew that meant she was happy also.
Gabrielle reached up and kissed him on each cheek.
" It is about time," she muttered before returning to her sister and insisting on seeing the ring.
"It is too late to change your mind, 'Arry," Sebastien chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder as he joined the younger man. "You belong to them now."
His final words were spoken with warmth and Harry couldn't help but agree with the sentiment.
There was nowhere he would rather be than surrounded by the people he was with now. In the space of a day, he had gone from uncertainty to having sealed much of his future and he could not be happier with the choices he had made.
For all the years of hard work he had put into his education and those spent with Fleur, he knew he had begun forging the life he would one day have, and now, that bliss was well within the reach of his grasping hand.
(Break)
6 months later…
"Harry would like you to believe that he is this unapproachable, quiet man who hates almost everyone. He can be impolite and even downright rude, but he never had me fooled," Terry declared, and Harry narrowed his eyes at him, almost regretting asking him to be his best man. "But I've known him since we started at Hogwarts. I watched how he would stick up for the others that couldn't do it themselves, how he would help others that needed it and how generous he is. I'm not going to share those things because he would probably murder me, but I will say that he changed even more when Fleur came along. Watching the two of them fumble around each other for the best part of the school year was hilarious, but I could not be happier for them. If I have ever met two people who deserve to be happy together, it's them."
He raised his glass, followed by the other guests and drank to the newlyweds before taking his seat once more.
"Don't look at me like that, If I had my way then I would have told them a lot more," Terry muttered.
Harry could only shake his head.
"Why did I ask you to be my best man, Terry?"
"Because I'm the only one stupid enough to do it," he returned dryly, "now shut up, you're ruining the atmosphere for me. It's not often I get the chance to get away."
Harry chuckled, still amused by Boot and his odd sense of humour.
His fellow Ravenclaw had married Susan Bones the previous year, a revelation that had surprised Harry. Apparently, the two of them had grown close during their sixth and seventh years when they had begun spending time together in the library.
Harry was happy for him and had been his best man also, though Terry's wedding had been bigger than his and Fleur's.
They had opted to hold the ceremony in France and only have close friends and family attend, partly because neither wanted to make a spectacle of it and they wanted to keep it away from the press.
Harry had invited the Hogwarts staff, Sirius, Remus and Mad-Eye Moody, who had undoubtedly saved Sebastien's life. The two older men had struck up a friendship after the battle at the Ministry with the grizzled Ex-Auror often coming to dinner with the Delacours.
He proved to be a strange guest, his paranoia quite the quirk, but he had never refused an invite and had some very interesting tales to tell when he managed to relax.
He had also invited Minerva who, true to her word, had stayed in touch and wrote often to him. Retirement suited her and she had opted to sit with Albus for the ceremony, their friendship being one that had endured two wars and several decades of working with one another.
Fleur had kept her guest list to a minimum having only invited Fae and Marie, along with a few members of the Beauxbatons staff including Madame Maxime who was seated with Hagrid, the pair taking up a considerable amount of space under the marquee that had been erected on the Delacour grounds.
It was a small affair, but they had managed to include those that mattered to them.
"I think they are waiting for you to dance," Terry whispered, nudging him from his reverie.
He was right. The guests were looking expectantly towards him and Fleur and he could not help but be reminded of the night of the Yule Ball. They had danced many times together since but not when all eyes had been on them.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr and Mrs Potter will now share their first dance," Terry announced.
Dumbledore instigated the round of applause that followed as Harry offered Fleur his hand and led her to the dance floor.
" Does this not remind you of our first one?" he asked.
She nodded as she smiled at him. It was a memory that came from what felt so long ago but remained one of her fondest.
That night would always be so. Despite what came after, it was where they had truly begun, the night of their first dance and first kiss, something that would never be forgotten.
Two years later…
He made a point to visit them once a year, not for sentimental purposes but to check in on them. Draco had thus far been a man of his word. He had finished his schooling, had given up the Malfoy name and had handed over the contents of his former family vault to Harry upon reaching his majority. Still, Harry did not trust the man and never would. Perhaps he could only ever see him as Lucius's son, but he would take no chances with him.
Narcissa had seemingly adapted to her new life, was always respectful though cold towards him. This, he understood. He may have saved her life, but he had murdered her husband and burnt her home to the ground, a thought that still filled him with satisfaction and one that tormented her.
He found he cared little. If she behaved, he would continue to house, cloth and feed her but that was a s far as his duty to the woman went. Whether she liked him or not was a moot point. He was all she had, and she knew it.
Bellatrix had not done so well. She often bemoaned the fact that he refused to undo the ritual that kept her under control, and she did little to hide the loathing she felt for him. Again, he cared not. He would sooner kill her than undo the magic. He had no doubt she would revert to er nefarious ways and he would not risk it.
She already had enough freedom as far as he was concerned and should be grateful.
Today, however, he was not here to see either of the women. His presence had been requested by Draco who had politely requested to see him. It was still odd to see blonde compliant to his wishes, his memories of the unpleasant boy not easy to forget.
"Lord Black," the man greeted him respectfully.
"Draco," Harry returned, "you wished to see me?"
The man nodded and gestured for Harry to take seat at a table where he had seemingly prepared refreshments.
"I would like to ask you something, two things really," he began nervously. "I have met someone I would like to marry. She is a local witch and isn't connected to Britain in any way. She works in the café on the beach."
"The blonde lady?" Harry asked, familiar with the woman in question having visited for coffee on a few occasions.
Draco nodded.
"Marissa. She is a pureblood, but her family is a poor one. They wouldn't pose any threat to you. They only have the café."
Harry nodded thoughtfully.
"What is your second request?"
"I would like a house for us to live in, if you agree. I think I'm too old to be sharing with my Aunt and Mother."
Harry could find nothing disagreeable, and he had promised Draco would be able to marry. It was not something he himself had put much thought into, but the man evidently had.
"Okay, here's what will happen. You can marry her, and I really do wish you well. I will buy a suitable property for you to raise a family in and will even pay for your wedding."
Draco appeared to be confused, a frown marring his features.
"What do you want in return?"
"Nothing," Harry assured him. "I think living with Bellatrix for as many years as you have has been punishment enough, but do not mistake my kindness for weakness. I will still be watching you."
"I would never…"
"I know," Harry conceded. "You have done all you said you would and have proven yourself, but I do not want you to get any ideas. Make no mistake, Draco, I will kill you if you give me a reason to."
The man nodded and Harry took his leave from the house.
They would never be friends, and he would never feel any fondness towards him, but he deserved to live and should not be denied the joy that family can bring.
Harry had been blessed with such with the Delacours and the arrival of his first child. He smiled at the thought of the little blonde waiting for him at home; the exact double of his wife with only the eyes he had inherited from his own mother to set the two apart.
At only a year old, she was proving to be his weakness, and he finally understood why Sebastien was so easily swayed by his own daughters. Little Amelie Potter had been a blessing and he yet hoped there would be more to come.
14 years later
He was seated at the table in the kitchen, the summer a welcome respite from his day to day life in the castle. He loved teaching still but revelled in his time away from the school where he did not have papers to mark, students to discipline and where he could spend time with Fleur and the children.
He smiled as she entered the room and wrapped her arms around his neck, the three present children grimacing as she placed a kiss on his lips.
Along with Amelie, they'd had another girl and two boys. Jack had followed when Amelie was two, then Isabelle a year later and finally James who was now eight.
"Good Morning, 'Arry," she greeted him sleepily. "Why are you up so early?"
"Because I was woken up," he replied amusedly. "Not all of us can sleep through the racket that this lot make."
"We are not noisy, papa," Isabelle denied, pouting at him innocently.
He was not fooled by the look; her aunt had used it on him several times since he had met her. He would have to have a word with Gabrielle. Isabelle was just like her. She even looked like the other Veela.
" Isabelle!" Fleur chastised. "Do not try to use your allure on your father."
The girl had the decency to look abashed at being caught by her mother.
Harry had not noticed. He had become so accustomed to the magic that it no longer registered on his conscience. Amelie had tried the tact once and had been suitably reprimanded also.
Truly, neither of the girls needed to use their allure. They had him firmly wrapped around their fingers. Fleur often told him he was too soft on them, but it was just his way. Maybe he was overcompensating for his own childhood or it was that seeing them happy was what brought him joy. To him, it did not matter. His wife and his children were his pride, despite his other achievements.
Amelie was very much his child, even if she looked like her mother. She was adventurous, had grown to love Transfiguration and being taught by her father at school and even had the same penchant for trouble finding her.
They had both known when she was young that she would take after him. At the age of three, she had taken his firebolt and decided to follow Serana around the forest. They had searched frantically for her and found her asleep with the basilisk coiled around her protectively.
That was the day they had discovered that she had inherited his parseltongue ability and the little girl and enormous snake had formed a close bond. Fleur almost had a fit when she had caught their daughter giggling as she rode on the serpent's back when she was five.
Harry grinned at the memory.
"Is something amusing you, 'Arry?"
He shook his head and caught sight of his eldest son.
Jack had taken after him in looks but resembled his mother more in the way he acted. He had her same fiery temper but was the sweetest boy when you got past his somewhat haughty exterior. He had opted to go to Beauxbatons where Fleur taught. Harry suspected he believed that most Brits were like Moody who had terrified him when he was just a toddler. His scarred and twisted visage was enough to give any pause, let alone when he decided to teach the boy a lesson in his own unique way.
Poor Jack had been minding his own business, colouring by the pool during a visit to his grandparents when the grizzled man had leapt from a nearby bush and screamed 'Constant Vigilance'.
He had avoided Moody who still found the event a source of amusement since.
Fleur had been rather unimpressed by the one-legged man. Harry had seen the funny side, as had Sirius, who denied any involvement in the incident. Fleur was not inclined to believe the Marauder and had given him a piece of her mind. From that day, she was Jack's hero and he spent much of his time with her.
Isabelle was Gabrielle; that was the only way he could describe her. She was mischievous and had Sebastien fooled into thinking she was the picture of innocence. The poor man had endured his own daughter until she too had left home when she married a son of one of Apolline's friends, and now he had another just like her to keep him on his toes.
James was the quiet one, the opposite of his namesake according to Sirius. He too looked like Harry but he was observant and very bright. Already at the age of eight he had taken an interest in magic and could often be found speaking to the portrait of Arcturus Black who had taken to the boy rather well, though Harry wished he would curb his crude language.
There had been one particular incident where Fleur had almost immolated the portrait when she had overheard James call Jack ' a useless sack of shit' . Again, Harry had laughed whilst his wife had been furious.
He thought he would have a difficult task deciding who would succeed as the next Lord Black, but it seemed the decision had been made for him. If James was going to continue his lessons under Arcturus, it was only natural it would be him.
He was puled from his thoughts once more as the back door was flung open and his eldest daughter rushed into the room.
" Papa, there is something wrong with Serana!"
Harry immediately shot to his feet and gestured for his children to stay where they were as he ran through the back door and into the trees a short distance away.
Serana had not been doing so well recently. In the past year, she had become slower and her eyesight had started to fail. Despite the heat here, she would complain that she was cold.
He had done all he could for her but there was only so much his heating charms could do. She was exceedingly old, even for a basilisk. The oldest specimen that had been recorded had lived to be six hundred. Serana had eclipsed that.
He felt his heart sink as he came upon her. She was laying in the den she had created for herself, her eyes glassy, half closed and her breathing laboured.
Swallowing deeply, he knelt next to her head and brushed his hand across the bridge of her nose.
" Is that you, Tom?"
He nodded, his heart aching at the weakness in her voice.
" It's me," he whispered.
He could never bring himself to correct her. She saw him as Tom, the first boy that had come to her in close to nine centuries and he couldn't destroy the image she had of him. Tom was her saviour and though he became what he did, he would not have her believe any differently of him.
" I'm so cold, Tom. I'm always cold."
" I know and I wish there was more I could do," he said sadly.
" No, you've done enough. I think it is my time to go. Will you stay with me, Tom? I'm scared."
" There's nothing to be frightened of, I'm here and I won't go anywhere," he promised.
Her throat rumbled gently as he continued rubbing her nose, just the way she liked.
And then she was gone.
With a final breath, she fell still, and he allowed the first tears to break free as he mourned for the gentle giant that had become his oldest friend.
He would clear some trees away and bury her next to Tom's memorial where they would rest together. He could think of no other place she would rather be.
He knew not how long he stayed with her. It could have been only minutes or even hours but when he found the courage to step away and break the news to his children, his tears had dried.
He found them in the kitchen, and a single glance towards his wife told her everything she needed to know. She offered him a look of sympathy before wrapping her arms around him.
Soon enough, he found himself comforting Amelie in his own embrace as she cried, as he had.
She would never forget the beautiful monster that had lived in their garden, and neither would he.
From the chamber to his home, she had been his steadfast companion and he would remember her with all the love and fondness she deserved.
(Break)
December 25 th, 2044
Another Christmas Day had come and gone. As had become the custom, they had all gathered at the Delacour home where both Apolline and Sebastien had happily remained, though both were now well into their advanced years, but somehow going strong.
Maybe it was the plethora of grandchildren and great grandchildren they had been blessed with that kept them going or that their time had yet to come. Regardless, they were still there and insisted that Christmas at their house would continue.
Harry and Fleur's own children had moved out, had gotten married and had children of their own, leaving them with the house to themselves. Both missed them terribly, but they came often enough and brought their children who were doted on by the pair.
Tonight, however, the two of them were neither at home nor with the Delacours. They had taken a somewhat impromptu trip to Hogwarts where Harry had spent the past decades continuing his work as the transfiguration professor.
Minerva had passed on some twenty years prior, but she had remained in contact until the moment her old age caught up to her, and still had words of wisdom for Harry and the occasional bee in her bonnet leading up to it.
He missed the woman dearly and thought of her when he was teaching, still questioning if he was getting it right.
Dumbledore had passed on even before his former mentor and Filius had succeeded him. Harry had been offered the post but refused it. He did not wish to take the reins and was content with his position. He did, however, accept the Deputy position and continued in the capacity, for now.
"This is going to be my final year," he announced. "I'm going to retire so we can enjoy whatever time we have left together."
Fleur's eyes lit up at the declaration. She had retired a few years before and had all but begged him to do the same. They had given their best years to their professions and she felt they had earned their rest.
It wasn't as though they needed the gold. Both the Potter and Black Vaults were brimming with it and they had only worked because it was what they loved doing.
"Does that mean I will finally 'ave my 'usband all to myself?"
He nodded as he drank in her appearance.
To him, she looked to be the very same girl he had met a little over fifty years ago. There was some slight crinkling around her eyes, but she did not look the sixty-seven years she had lived. She was just as beautiful as he always remembered her.
" It has been exactly fifty years since we had our first dance, do you remember?" he asked as he offered her his hand.
She took it and smiled.
" I will never forget the first one, but I remember the second one more. It was when you first kissed me just over there," she replied as they fell into their practiced steps by the lake.
She pointed to where the Beauxbatons carriage had once stood and he frowned slightly.
" When I kissed you? I think you'll find you kissed me."
" Then we remember it very differently," Fleur snorted.
Harry grinned as he shook his head.
" I don't suppose it matters really. We are still here, we are still dancing together, and I imagine we will until we can no longer stand to do so."
Fleur giggled and kissed him.
" I will 'old you that, 'Arry," she murmured. "For as long as we can, we will still do this. I want another five decades at least."
" As do I," he agreed.
Fate had once been a cruel mistress to him, had become less so throughout his life, but if there was any balance to the world, she would grant them this final wish.
For everything he had given, he had never asked for anything in return, but for the first time in his life, he did so, and he could only hope that his plea was heard.
He was not ready to give this up, not yet, not when it still felt as though he had only just fell in love with the woman he held in his arms.