Christmas morning arrived with bright white sunlight streaming through the edges of Harry's curtains. He blinked bleary sleep and vivid dreams from unfocused eyes and sat up. His fingers found his glasses resting on his nightstand next to his Christmas gift from Fleur.
From his girlfriend.
Unbelievably, that particular dream hadn't vanished with the clarity of consciousness.
Another knock at his door echoed the first that had woken him and he leapt to his feet. He must have been exhausted to sleep past dawn.
"Coming!" He called, pulling off his pajamas.
"No rush," Sirius's voice called through the door. "We've got a little time before we're expected."
There was a pause and Harry could practically hear the grin split his godfather's face.
"Besides, I want to hear how last night went!"
Sirius had been asleep in his recliner when Harry had flooed back to Grimmauld Place from Fleur's flat and had awoken with a frantic start when Harry prodded him on the shoulder. They had shared an awkward goodnight but hadn't discussed his new...situation.
He was grinning as he descended the stairs.
Sirius was in the middle of a fry-up when Harry joined him in the kitchen. Harry busied himself with a kettle and grabbed a couple of mugs from a cabinet.
"So," Sirius said, his voice laced with obvious interest. "Did you have a good time?"
Harry nodded, proud of the fact that his face didn't feel too warm.
"It was nice."
"Did she like her gift?"
He nodded again.
"We're...uh...we're dating now."
Sirius paused mid-flip, his egg slipping off his spatula and back into the pan.
"Liked it that much, huh?" he said, grinning. "I'm happy for you, Harry. Congratulations!"
The initial shock was to be expected, but sudden acceptance?
"Why do you believe me?" Harry asked, hand frozen above the container of tea. "I don't even believe it myself."
"That's pretty normal," Sirius said, dumping the contents of his skillet onto a plate. "Your dad was the same way."
"But my mum wasn't…"
"A Veela?" Sirius asked, carrying the plates over to the table. "No, she wasn't. But she was everything else Fleur seems to be."
The kettle began to whistle and snapped Harry from his incredulity. He poured the water into the mugs and let the leaves steep.
"Yeah...but-"
"Don't worry too much about it," Sirius said, motioning for Harry to bring the mugs and to sit down. "That'll steal the fun. She's smart. She knows what she wants."
"That's what she said," Harry grumbled into his breakfast.
"Then you should probably listen."
Harry took the gentle admonition in stride, instead looking through the entryway to where Sirius had set up a somewhat bare Christmas tree.
"Did you used to celebrate Christmas when you were younger?" he asked, taking a sip of his tea.
Sirius paused in his meal, a faint smile lifting his features.
"We celebrated Yule," he answered after a moment. "The whole family got together. Bellatrix used to demand to be the one to help my father with the Yule log. Cissy and Andy would help my mum decorate, and me and Regulus would just generally make nuisances of ourselves."
A fond smile twisted into something nearing a scowl.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
Sirius let out a heavy sigh and shrugged.
"I'm not sure exactly. Narcissa has been...friendly lately. Friendly for her anyway. I guess since Lucius was killed she's been able to be more...herself. Which is still pretty prickly, mind you."
"Malfoy's mum is...coming around?" Harry asked, equally as shocked. "I dunno…"
"She's no ray of sunshine but she was never as rotten as her husband." Sirius fiddled with his fork, pushing some of his food in an idle circle. "It's hard to forget so many years of bad blood, but...she's trying."
He shook himself of the thought and grinned.
"I'll deal with that later. Nothing you need to worry about. We'd better get going. Don't want to be late!"
They both went upstairs to change into something more presentable, then met in front of the fireplace with their gifts.
"Well," Sirius said, a bottle-shaped gift in one hand, a small stack of boxes in the other. "Ready for a proper Christmas?"
Harry nodded and followed his godfather through the floo.
XxX
As though designed for the season, the rushing green flames of the floo network faded to reveal a thoroughly decorated sitting room inside of Delacour manor. Harry followed Sirius from the fireplace to a chorus of "Happy Christmas!"
The familiar room had been transformed with festive decorations that stretched from corner to corner. Rather than floating ornamentation, as he had seen at Hogwarts, everything appeared to be stuck to the walls and furniture. Colored tinsel and wreaths peppered the space, with a small lighted tree sitting in each window.
The most prominent decoration, however, was in the corner. A Christmas tree that brushed the high ceilings with branches that sparkled with ornaments. Some moved of their own accord while most were of the more mundane variety. A deep red skirt rounded the bottom, covered in a small pile of expertly wrapped gifts.
The Delacours stood from their seats to greet them, with Fleur rushing forward to wrap him in a tight hug.
"Happy Christmas, 'Arry," she whispered into his shoulder.
"Happy Christmas."
She released him after a long moment and stepped back. She was wearing the same dress as the night before, but the embroidered snow now blew across her dress in an invisible wind.
"Do you like it?" she asked, twirling to display her handiwork.
"Yeah," he answered, nodding. "You did that last night?"
"I…could not sleep."
"Me either."
They became suddenly aware that there were other people in the room when Apolline stepped over to them, beaming.
"Happy Christmas, Harry!" she said, her arms held out in invitation.
He stepped forward, accepting the gentle hug. When they parted, Apolline reached to grab a Christmas hat from the mantle, and set it on his head, a match for her own.
"Even Sebastian wears a little Christmas something on the actual holiday," she said.
Sebastian waved at them from where he stood chatting with Sirius, a hat perched on both their heads. Sebastian wore a more normal shirt and trouser pair compared to his wife, who wore a deep green dress more akin to her daughter's.
Everybody found a seat, Fleur taking a spot next to Harry on one of the couches. She sat so close that her leg brushed his, and he could feel the heat of her skin through the fabric of his trousers. She said something to him and he was suddenly aware that he was grinning stupidly.
"Er…what?" he asked, trying to focus.
She smiled a small smile and patted him on the knee.
"I am glad you are here, even if it is a bit less private than last night."
He nodded, looking over to where Sirius conversed with her parents.
His gaze shot back over to Fleur as a thought suddenly occurred to him.
"Do they…know?" he asked, gesturing vaguely between them.
It somehow felt altogether too fragile and precious to speak aloud with others near.
"About us?" she asked.
And yet it was music when she said it.
"Of course. I told them when I flooed over this morning."
"Did they…er…take it okay?"
A small frown pulled at the edges of her lips.
"Take it okay?" she echoed. "'Arry…why would they be upset?"
He could only manage a shrug.
Her frown persisted for a moment before she finally relaxed.
"They may want to talk to you, as parents often do. I asked them to try to avoid being completely horrible."
Flashes of post-Quidditch locker-room conversation filtered through Harry's memory. Of Fred and George recounting a harrowing conversation with their girlfriend's fathers.
His panic must have been clear in his sense if it wasn't plastered all across his face, because Fleur squeezed his knee with a warm hand.
"I doubt it will be bad at all. If anything, they might be too enthusiastic. You know Maman can be a bit…much."
Harry nodded, glancing back over to where Sirius was talking about his cousin and her daughter. A flash of blue caught Harry's eye and Gabrielle stepped around the corner. She was taller than he remembered, more nervous too. She shot him a quick smile when he caught her eye and she made a beeline for their loveseat.
"'Appy Christmas, 'Arry," she said when she approached.
" Joyeux Noel ," he answered with a smile.
She turned to Fleur and began speaking in French, though Harry was sure she was speaking somewhat slower so he could try to understand. Even so, he only caught the word for 'dress' and 'spell.' She pointed down at the hem of her dress where a bundle of embroidered snowflakes lay dormant.
"Hold still," Fleur said, grabbing her wand from a nearby side-table. With a complicated twist and a few specific taps and muttered words, the snowflakes lifted from their resting place to fall across Gabrielle's dress in a gentle flurry.
" Merci ," she said, looking down to admire the dress. "I could not figure out 'ow to make eet keep 'appening."
Their impromptu magic lesson was cut short by Apolline, who stood and shooed everybody toward the tree. "Come along," she said, bending down to pull a trio of boxes from beneath the tree. Two of the boxes were identical and made of deep auburn wood. The third was quite a bit wider but made of the same material. She handed the smaller boxes to Sirius and Harry in turn with a broad smile.
"We would be happy if you would join us in one of our Christmas traditions," she said, nodding down at the small wooden container. Harry held it in one hand, the box only slightly larger than his palm.
Apolline popped open the lid of the box in her hands with a graceful touch and held it out to Fleur and Gabrielle, who pulled two white lengths of fabric from inside. With her back to him, Harry spotted the similar gift he had given the night before tied at the base of her neck in a bow. Her ribbon sat in its life-altering hue of lavender, its thick loops tied in perfect symmetry.
She moved over so Sebastian could grab one as well, then pulled her own out from inside.
"It's a tradition in our family," she said, setting the box on a table, "to hang a ribbon on our tree each year."
Fleur and Gabrielle had already tied neat little bows side by side on an empty branch.
"As you know," Apolline continued, smiling at Harry, "we are descended from fairies. Centuries ago, people used to hang ribbons from trees in the woods to try to gain their favor."
She and Sebastian tied theirs on a branch with the loops of their bows pressed together.
"We certainly don't need our own favor, but it's a family tradition that's been passed down for hundreds of years. We like to keep it going to help us remember where we came from."
At her urging, Harry and Sirius opened their own boxes and pulled out matching white ribbons. Following the examples in front of them, they tied theirs next to each other, though their bows stood out for their somewhat lopsided look.
Fleur stepped closer to him when he moved back to admire his dubious handiwork.
"It's good to see so many hanging there," Apolline said with a happy sigh, hands clasped in front of her breast.
"Eet eez just two more, Maman," Gabrielle said, flopping down into one of the chairs and breaking the atmosphere that had settled over them.
"Even so…" Apolline said, wrapping an arm around her husband's middle with a shiver. She glanced over at the low fire, then up at Sebastian. "Will you grab some more wood for the fire? I used the last of what we had brought in and I am already chilly."
"Of course," he said, planting a kiss on the top of her head. "Harry, would you come give me a hand? We're going to need more than I can carry in one trip."
Harry nodded and joined Fleur's father in walking to the front door, taking a heavy winter coat that hung on a coat rack by the door. Sebastian must have noticed Harry's surprise at seeing the muggle winter-wear and explained as he pulled on his own black coat.
"Robes and cloaks are great for keeping in body heat since they're so long," he said, pulling open one of the large wooden double doors that fronted the manor, "but they get in the way of anything too physical. We keep a healthy supply of firewood for the winter, and I often have to make trips out to get some. It can be difficult keeping the house warm enough for them."
Harry followed Sebastian around to the side of the house with windows that looked into the dining room, careful to step in the footprints left in the snow by the older man. Snow fell with languid ease, coating the grounds and nearby forest with a blanket of stark white silence. His trainers crunching in the already packed footfalls sounded inordinately loud to his ears, though it barely registered over the pounding of his heart.
Another memory welled in his mind, this time one of Dean and Seamus commiserating over awkward dinners with their girlfriend's parents and direct pointed questions.
He felt the silence stretch as they stopped by a massive stack of split logs that were arrayed two rows deep beneath a small awning. He felt the need to say something, to do anything to push the growing anxiety from his throat.
"C-couldn't you just cast warming charms around the house?" he asked as Sebastian began selecting a few logs.
"We do, occasionally, but by the time you've got the room as warm as you want it, the first of the charms are wearing off. More conventional heating methods work well enough." He paused in his search to offer Harry a broad grin. "Though I have to admit, your gift to Fleur for her birthday was an incredible find. I hope you don't mind that I stole your idea for Gabrielle and Apolline."
"Not at all," Harry said, shivering as a light breeze pushed snowflakes into his glasses and face, dotting them with moisture.
The older man resumed selecting logs and holding them out for Harry to grab.
"Speaking of Fleur," he said, setting one last log in Harry's arms before beginning to fill his own. "She told us that you two are together now."
Harry couldn't help but stiffen and he searched the man's features for any hint of anger.
"Y-yes, Sir," he said.
Sebastian paused, glancing over at Harry for a moment before returning to his selections.
"Even now, I'm still perfectly fine with Sebastian or Mr. Delacour," he said, plucking one last log from the pile. "Don't worry too much. I'm not the type of father to threaten you or warn you away from my daughter. She's got a good head on her shoulders and even if I didn't know you as well as I do, I'd trust her to choose someone who would make her happy."
Harry could only nod, thunderstruck by the acceptance. That was not at all what he had been led to believe this talk would be like.
He turned and stepped through their footsteps back towards the front door at Sebastian's urging. They had rounded the corner when Harry felt a light touch on his shoulder that made him turn. Sebastian held his logs in one arm and smiled a small, uninterpretable smile at Harry. It was both sad and inviting and made him feel as though he were intruding upon something private.
"It is, however," Sebastian said quietly, his breath puffing into the breeze to be carried away with his words, "a father's prerogative to ask that you be good to her. I like to think I know you well enough to say that won't be an issue, but all the same…"
Harry could only nod, though he felt as though he should say…something?
But what?
She was the one that was good for him, not the other way around.
But he wanted to be good for her. To help and support her the way she had done for him. He could be what she needed him to be.
They returned to the festive group, arms laden with wood for the dwindling fire. Harry noted with no small measure of pride that both Fleur and Gabrielle were huddled beneath the blanket he had gotten her, sitting shoulder to shoulder on the small couch. Sebastian moved to toss a few logs into the fire to immense gratitude from Apolline, who rose from her loveseat to help. Sirius was lounged in a large armchair, his hat sitting off-kilter on top of his head.
Harry set down his pile of logs next to the fireplace as instructed and turned to see Fleur lifting the edge of the blanket in an invitation, patting the couch with her other hand. He joined her, a surge of warmth rushing through him as the blanket draped over him and she scooted over so she could lean against him.
Once the fire was roaring and Apolline was suitably warmed, she clapped her heads together for attention. "Before it gets too late and we encroach upon mealtime, we should open our gifts."
Sebastian nodded, joining his wife. "And I think you should go first, ma chérie," he said, pulling two boxes from beneath the tree. "You as well." He handed the second box to Gabrielle, who pulled her arms from beneath the blanket to accept the gift.
They both unwrapped their presents at the same time, which elicited similar gasps of surprise when the lids were lifted to expose two blankets; Apolline's a deep, soothing blue, and Gabrielle's a forest-green.
Apolline wrapped hers around her shoulders and moved closer to the fire so it could absorb the warmth, while Gabrielle extricated herself from beneath Fleur's blanket, which had been stretched tight to accommodate three people.
She muttered a warming charm, tapping the wand to her new blanket, then sighed a deep sigh of relief. After which, she bundled herself tight so that only her head was visible, her hair splayed out over the front in a silvery waterfall.
"Thank you, mon chéri," Apolline said, lifting up onto tiptoes to give Sebastian a kiss on the cheek.
She moved back to the tree and pulled a smaller gift from underneath, then turned and handed it to Harry.
The box was about as long as his forearm and only slightly wider, and had a surprising amount of heft to it. He glanced over to Fleur, whose eyes danced with excitement, practically screaming that she knew what was held inside. She squeezed his arm beneath the blanket and nodded for him to continue.
He pulled the paper free and handed it to Sebastian, who tossed it into the roaring fire. The box was white and simple with no ornamentation or decoration to give a hint as to what lay inside. He lifted the lid and blinked down at a golden metallic surface with four holes in each corner. Fleur made an excited noise from his right, but he was too mesmerized to notice. He lifted the metal object from the box, careful not to leave fingerprints on the glossy surface. He turned it over to see the front and felt his throat lock with emotion.
The front was embossed with broad curling letters that formed his name, while little depictions of his Firebolt zoomed across the edges, disappearing and reappearing as they flew off the end. There was a distant pang of regret for his lack of time flying through the sky, but it was overwhelmed by the wonder that surged through him while staring at the nameplate.
His nameplate.
He noted a watery-eyed Fleur squeezing his arm again, her head quirked to the side.
"We wanted you to know that you'd always have a place to stay here with us," Apolline said, one blanketed arm wrapped around Sebastian. "And that the room is yours now, not just a guest room."
Harry could only manage a nod, sure that if he even breathed, he'd loose the sob that he was fighting to keep back.
Fleur's warm, comforting hand on his arm didn't help.
He eventually mastered himself enough to say thank you, and he reverentially placed the gift back in its box and set it on his lap. Fleur leaned her head against his shoulder and he let himself relax, content to watch quietly as the rest of the gifts were opened and fawned over. He got lost in the commotion, forgetting, for a time, how odd it was that he would be allowed to be a part of such wondrous joy-filled moments.
Time slipped away in the manner reserved only for the happiest of occasions. What should have been hours felt like minutes that lead them to a large Christmas dinner. It didn't have the courtesy to slow until they had finished eating. Rather than return to the sitting room as Harry had expected, they had been ushered into the ballroom where Gabrielle took a seat at the piano.
Her apparently traditional concert filled the room with flowing Christmas music, bursting with incredible warmth-filled notes that captivated even his untrained ear. A handful of tunes were accompanied by a boisterous, if slightly off-key, vocal performance by Sebastian, who nearly dissolved Gabrielle's performance into laughter with a particularly bold reach up to a stratospheric note.
Apolline chided him and the singing stopped.
The quick joyous music lilted down into calm melodies that invoked a musical picture of falling snow and warm blankets. It slowed from the complex melodies to something slower, something that was made intimate and comforting by its simplicity. Slow notes rolling back and forth, Gabrielle's hands rocking across the keys with captivating, swaying precision.
Familiarity tickled at his memory, then was solidified when Fleur grabbed his hand and began to hum along.
A song sung while cooking and stealing kisses deep into the night. One that, despite the fact that he didn't know the words, begged to be let free.
Instead, he gripped Fleur's hand tight, reveling in the peace the gentle notes carried upon their backs.
It was a drained group that returned to the sitting room, Gabrielle's concert having taken the most from the performer herself, who curled up beneath her blanket with a book she had been gifted the moment she was able.
Not long after, Apolline rose from where she had huddled next to Sebastian with his arm draped over her shoulders. She caught Harry's eye and motioned for him to follow her from the room. He gently pulled free from a drowsy Fleur, who protested sleepily until she realized where he was going. She glared at her mother and gave his hand a quick squeeze under the blanket before letting go.
"Tell me if she is too…much," she whispered as he rose. He made his promise and joined Apolline, following her to the kitchen.
The counters had been cleaned of her preparations for the dinner and a single faded wooden box sat on the end. She lifted the box with reverent fingers and held it aloft on both palms.
"It's strange…the way things happen," she said, nodding for Harry to lift the box's lid. "This was Sebastian's first-ever Christmas gift to me."
He lifted a small clasp and opened the lid to reveal a red bundle of cloth resting inside. Apolline withdrew the faded ribbon with a careful grip and set the box back on the counter.
She stared at it for a moment before speaking, drawing the ribbon between both hands.
"He eventually confessed that he'd almost made himself sick obsessing over the perfect gift," she said, glancing fondly past Harry when Sebastian's laugh rang out from the other room. "I still suspect one of my parents took pity on him and told him of our link to fairies, since he hadn't known at the time, but he still maintains that he figured it out and wanted to earn my favor."
She let out a soft laugh and folded the ribbon back into its box.
"It worked wonders," she continued, "as you can see."
She closed the lid with a click and turned to him with a half-smile.
"What are the chances that you would present my daughter with the same gift my husband gave me all those years ago?"
Harry's mouth went dry as he scrambled for a reply.
"I-I…I didn't-" His face burned with the implication.
"I know," she cut in gently. "I didn't call you in here to embarrass you. Quite the opposite, actually. I thought you would prefer talking when we weren't in front of everyone."
Harry nodded while he tried to regain some modicum of composure. He found himself wishing he were talking to Sebastian again.
Apolline drew in a breath and fixed him with a gaze nearly the same shade as the one he spent so often looking into. Though Apolline's heritage prevented the more traditional signs of aging, as Harry could see in Sebastian, her experience was locked away in her eyes. Where Fleur's often shone with blatant curiosity or mischievous light, her mother's were bright, but like you were reaching for the sun through a blanket of clouds.
"I am happy for you both," she said. "I would be lying if I said I hadn't thought it a possibility."
"You too?" he asked, unable to keep the dumbfounded question from escaping.
Both Sirius and Apolline?
She let out a light laugh.
"Of course! She spoke of you with such high esteem, even before she…well, before that dreadful second task." Her smile grew wider. "Sebastian and I have not been together so long that I have forgotten what the beginning stages of attraction look like."
Harry fought the urge to shuffle his feet and settled on shifting his eyes up to her forehead.
"I feel compelled to ask you to be kind and understanding in your time together," Apolline continued. "Though I doubt she would have chosen you if you did not possess those qualities already."
Her smile wilted and she let out a soft sigh.
"It will not always be an easy thing for the two of you to be together. Both of you bring challenges to the relationship."
Harry nodded slowly.
"We talked about some of them."
"That's good!" Apolline said, clearly surprised. "That's a fantastic start!"
Her exuberance faded as she went on.
"I presume one of the topics was your world-wide fame for your part in Voldemort's downfall."
He nodded.
"That's good. And what about…your age?" she asked, her tone delicate.
"We didn't..." he answered slowly.
"I'm not surprised. In most ways, you're more mature than most fifteen-year-olds, and I doubt that she has ever seen you as anything other than an equal."
She chewed on her lip for a moment, a habit that made it even clearer she was Fleur's mother. If he had squinted, it'd have been difficult to tell them apart.
"I doubt everyone will see it that way, though, and I want you to be prepared for that." She stared at him for a moment, some of her anxiety vanishing. "I suspect the thought hadn't crossed your mind, had it?"
He could only shake his head. He certainly doubted he'd stop thinking about it any time soon.
Apolline nodded her understanding and leaned her back against the counter.
"You two may very well be too busy figuring out how to cultivate a strong relationship around what comes with being Veela to worry about what others will say. It took Sebastian and I much too long to accept that we couldn't go out on dates like normal couples and to learn to enjoy our solitude."
She turned her head to glance at him, snapping from her memories.
"I'm not saying this to discourage you, but to help you so you don't make the same mistakes we did. I wouldn't be surprised if she were worried about being an inconvenience to someone she cares about."
"She didn't say it quite like that," he said. "But I don't mind. If anything, I'd be the-"
"Please, don't even say so in jest," Apolline cut in, her voice gentle but firm. "You are an inconvenience to no-one in this house."
Harry's gaze fell and he nodded. He knew it was true.
At times he even felt it.
It was just so…new.
"Thank you, Mrs. Delacour," he finally managed.
"Of course, Harry," she said with a broad smile. "But I think Sebastian and I have monopolized your limited time with Fleur long enough. You go on back and I will join you shortly after I put this away."
She tapped a long fingernail on the top of the box. She hesitated, her hand hovering above the box, and fixed him with an unreadable gaze.
"It's difficult to see your daughter grow up," she said. "Especially since what we are means that her life only gets more difficult than it would be otherwise. It seems like only a few days ago that she was just a little girl with silver hair that sprinted through this house, laughing as her father chased her…"
She trailed off and fixed him with a watery smile.
"I'm happy she's chosen someone who obviously cares so much about her."
Without waiting for a reply, she snatched the box from the table and strode from the room.
Harry joined the others in the sitting room, making sure to console Fleur that her mother hadn't been too over the top in her prerogative discussion. Sebastian and Sirius had taken up playing cards, and Gabrielle hadn't moved from her blanket cocoon, book in hand.
Rather than pulling the blanket aside for him to sit down, Fleur stood and motioned for him to follow. She led him to the front door and handed him one of the heavy coats. She stepped into a pair of heavy boots and laced them with a flick of her wand.
The brisk day outside had transformed into a frozen winter night. A sliver of moon peeked through clouds to illuminate the unbroken snowdrifts that stretched out in front of them. The wind had pushed large piles up against the stone barrier that lined the bath to Delacour manor with a long perfect hat of snow perched on top.
Harry followed Fleur into the moonlight, each step sinking deeper than his ankle with the unique squeaking crunch reserved for now. Small clumps fell into the tops of his shoes but he ignored the cold dampness, instead focusing on the private time he'd been longing for with Fleur.
Fleur didn't speak until they had crested a hill, though she had seized his hand the moment they had left the house.
"I feel terrible," she said.
"How come?"
Had he done something wrong? He had enjoyed their quiet walk, despite the cold.
"I just…"
She trailed off, following the mist of her breath with her eyes until it dispersed on a light breeze.
"I want you all to myself," she said, turning to him with a half-hearted grin. "And when everyone is so happy to see you."
He grinned back like an idiot, her sentiment easily driving the cold from his body.
"I don't mind," he said with a shrug. "It's a lot of fun, but it's also a bit…much."
"We can be a little enthusiastic. I am sorry if it wears on you."
Harry stared at the sky, his thoughts slipping to Christmases past.
"If I weren't here, I'd be spending the day wandering around Hogwarts waiting for the evening feast, then heading to bed." He smiled over at her. "So I reckon this is a bit better than that."
"I am glad to hear it."
She trailed off, their walk returning to its companionable silence. He stole glances at her, still in awe of the way even such limited moonlight cast her hair in a radiant light, putting to shame even the unblemished snowscape surrounding them. The glow was broken only by her lavender ribbon whose ends lifted with her hair in a breeze. She shivered, her cheeks and nose painted red with cold. Each breath came out in voluminous clouds far denser than his own, only to be carried away.
She turned her head and caught his eye, then grinned when he jumped guiltily at being caught staring.
"I hope my parents were not too overzealous in their little discussions. I tried to dissuade them, but in the end, I could only ask that they restrain themselves."
"It wasn't bad at all. They were both really…kind."
She blew out a deep breath that hung in the air for a moment before vanishing.
"I am glad to hear that."
She pulled her hair over her shoulder with one hand and idly fiddling with the ends of her ribbon.
"I am sorry to ask again," she said, looking down at the ribbon in her hand as if surprised to find it there. "But I cannot stop thinking about it. Does all of this…really not bother you? The fairy traditions and the…everything? Not even a little bit? You came face to face with that thing that lives inside me and it did not frighten you in its single-mindedness and violence?"
He shook his head.
"You were just…intense. I didn't ever feel like I was in danger. You spent most of the time protecting me after my arm got burnt."
A haunted shadow darted across Fleur's features.
"Seeing you after the first task…left an impression," she whispered. "One that has only grown stronger the closer we have gotten."
She shook herself free of the memories.
"Regardless. I am glad it did not frighten you away. I can only imagine how strange it would be to see such a creature come from a friend."
"It was still you, though," he said after a moment's thought. "You were different, sure, but not so different that I couldn't see you."
He felt his face heat as he considered his words. He wasn't sure he wanted her to know exactly how much about her he noticed, but when she was so obviously troubled by it…
"Your voice in my head is the same," he said finally, causing her to start in surprise. "The way you move is the same too, even with your wings."
He fidgeted beneath her wide-eyed gaze.
"Your eyes didn't change, except for how they glowed. You were still you, just a little different."
She didn't move or reply right away. Her eyes searched his, flitting back and forth as though looking for something his words and sense couldn't tell her.
When she didn't find it, she launched herself forward. He stumbled and almost fell when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and fervently pressed her lips to his.
She was warm in his arms and pressed against his body, but was cool against the fire she ignited inside him.
She broke the kiss far too soon, but to Harry's breathless delight, seemed content to hold him tight around the shoulders, their noses almost touching.
That moment too was broken, when her eyes widened and she stepped back, face flushed to a deep crimson.
"Oh…" she said, biting her lip as she examined the circle of melted snow that had appeared around them. "I did not know that could happen."
She looked up at him with a fragile smile.
"I suppose…there are other times a younger Veela can lose control of her abilities," she mumbled. "Not just when she is angry."
Her blush deepened and he was seized by the sudden desire to tease her, as she so often liked to do to him.
"It's sort of…"
He searched for a word of sufficient impact.
"…cute."
There was only a flash of silver hair and cloudy sky.
He was on his back, her soft but rapid kisses overriding the cold of the snowy pillow that had broken their fall.
There may have been steam rising from the now-dry cobbles.
He only had attention for the burning lips against his.