Flowerpot

Paige caught her breath as Harry approached. Her eyes flicked to him, back to Fleur, then to him again. Fleur's words trailed off into silence and slowly, she turned around.

A champagne glass slipped out her hand and shattered on the hardwood floor.

"'Arry?"

For an answer, he gently touched her cheek, tracing a path down behind her ear and to the back of her neck, then he wrapped his other arm around her slender waist.

Fleur's eyes widened.

At the last moment, the left side of his lips pulled back in a cheeky smirk—and then he dipped her just as he'd seen done a hundred times in the old movies he watched on Privet Drive when no one else was home.

With eyes closed, he sank into breathless perfection. The universe melted away leaving only the feeling of life and love surging through him, the warmth of her lips, the caressing fingers that burned his cheeks with their delicate touch, they were the only reminders that he had not ascended into the heavens.

And then it was over.

He pulled away and set her on her feet again.

"Oui," his voice echoed in the utter silence, answering her question.

He nodded to Paige, then turned and walked away; trying nonchalantly to reach for a glass of champagne and hoping no one saw his hand shaking. He drained it in one tip of the head while heading towards the balcony, wondering what in the hell he had just done.

Gabrielle happened to be standing by the sliding doors, grinning widely and holding out her hand. Harry gave her the glass and stepped outside.

[. . . ]

"'Ow dare you kiss me in front of all those people and then walk out on me!" She spat out when she reached him. Without waiting for an answer, she clutched his shirt in both hands and yanked him forward, their bodies crashing into each other.

She planted her lips on his and a primal need surged forth, her Veela nature emerging hungry and predatory. Needing more of him, she wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him tighter, her hands tangling in his hair and more than aware of the arms that wrapped around her; they were larger, stronger than they were last summer, but so much more important than that, was something that she was finally feeling again, something she had silently longed for since the day he pulled her into his embrace in the Burrow.

She was safe; she was cared for; she was home.

"You are." Harry admitted in a voice that somehow managed to keep itself leveled.

"You do not drool." She pointed out, smile still going strong.

"You're not that attractive." He retorted, his voice still calm, even as he twisted the truth into almost-lie territory.

"Then how attractive would I have to be for you to drool?" She challenged him, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Dunno. I'm still a bit new at being in love with you." He admitted, feeling his face heat up at the confession.

She stared into his eyes for a long moment, her own face slowly heating in response.

"That is a good answer, Harry Potter." She finally smiled. "Maybe an experiment is in order?" She began to advance on him, hips swaying in a distinctly feminine way.

And as her smile turned playfully predatory, their faces inches apart, Harry realized something that went completely against everything he'd ever known.

There didn't exist poetry flowery enough to describe her kisses.

He touched her nose, her ears, her lips. She had closed her eyes, just like he had. It wasn't required to look at each other now.

Fleur did not resist him when he slowly pulled her towards himself and inch by inch, the distance between them reduced. His breath mingled with hers as he waited, her lips so close that he could feel their warmth. Her scent was as exquisite as ever but he couldn't help but think that it was somehow more absorbing today. There wasn't much room for thoughts now; his heart was pounding too hard for him to think clearly.

The moment came and their lips touched. None of them moved a muscle for a few seconds. His breath caught the same instant hers did. Her lips were as soft as cream and she tasted like apple. Sweet. That was the first thought he had; strangely enough. For a moment, he had a panic attack as he realized he had no clue whatsoever where to go from here but he steadied himself for he knew that this moment wouldn't come back.

He ran his fingers through her velvety hair and moved his lips slowly. He felt Fleur easing closer to him, melting into him. She touched his cheek gently with featherlight stokes of her thumb as their lips moved in tandem. He wondered when would the tongues come into play but decided that he liked this well enough for now. Anymore and he would splinch himself.

Her fingers slid down the back of his neck, tracing its shape, and every place they touched was electric. He utterly forgot each and every one of his damned problems and just lost himself in her. The enormous pressure in his chest felt similar to the times when he was apparating, just a thousand times better. He could do this regularly if Fleur allowed him to.

Soon, Harry felt her pulling back but she was back in the next second kissing his cheek and his jaw and his other cheek. It felt too good.

Huh…

With sudden clarity, he realized that Fleur was the best thing to happen to him in his entire life. The whole world might have turned upside down at that moment and he wouldn't have noticed.

He didn't want to end this, ever, and he didn't want Fleur to go.

He wouldn't let her go. Ever.

Fleur didn't seem to be in any kind of hurry to leave him and so, he learnt kissing and kissing her in particular at an agonizingly slow pace.

Some time later, she gave him one last peck on the lips and finally pulled back. He looked at her glowing form and smiled.

"You are awfully 'ard to satiate." Fleur said with a smile, wiping his lips with her thumb. Harry raised an eyebrow, a skill he had learnt just that day. "Who said I am done?"

She radiated with pride, with the thrill of a happiness that scared her for its strength, a thrill I could feel within that binding piece that I held like my own heart in my hand. Her features were sharper than I've ever seen them, shifted by emotion, slanted by passion, keratinized lips widening into a smile that shook my legs under me, feral, fierce, luscious.

I stepped towards her and we met in an embrace both unrestrained and vehement, her hair floated around us, a curtain of life and passion as we kissed.

Our lips smiled against each other, too unrestrained in their mirth to meet properly and my body thrummed with excitement, with an overmastering feeling that saw us to the ground, arms tightening against each other, her strong body moulding to my own. She bit my lip and pulled away, her eyes opening to meet mine in their very own type of kiss, the ring of blue surrounding the black depths at the centre growing even slimmer at the sight of my lips, and the small blob of blood her attentions had caused.

Her fingers tightened on my back and I felt her pointed nails dug in even through my clothes, I felt myself answer her toothy smile.

She kissed him again, before declaring, "You are mine Monsieur Potter, my boyfriend."

He was pretty sure he looked like a fool he was smiling so hard. "I think I can live with that," he said coolly, his tone contrasted with the expression of joy he was no doubt wearing.

She huffed and pulled him into another kiss. Her being taller meant that it was he who had to tilt his face upward. He didn't mind.

Her kisses were like fire.

He was so shy, Fleur thought, but his kisses were like lightning. Electricity tingled anywhere her skin touched his.

She had kissed boys before, but no one and nothing, could compare to this. The more time she spent with him, the more her feelings grew. She wasn't sure if she even saw him clearly anymore.

By the end of their first 'date,' she was sure he was the most handsome, most beautiful person she knew.

He tasted like the wind, and his every touch was reverent, making her feel cherished.

Her heart felt heavy in her chest, a heart that up until now, she hadn't been certain she had. She hadn't expected it to feel quite so big.

It seemed that in getting to know Harry Potter, she was getting to know herself. She had always known that she was isolated from other people, but until today she had never felt so acutely what she was missing.

They stayed in this position for a moment, Fleur's body covering his own, caging him from the outside world.

"Why me?" said Harry's soft voice, interrupting their silent vigil. "Why did you choose me?" The woman slumped onto the bed next to him, stroking her fingers up and down his torso, trancing his curves and dips.

"Why not?"

"Why not?" repeated the boy with a humorless grin, eyes drawing towards the ceiling. "Perhaps because I'm tiny and thin."

"Veelas are dominate creatures, ve like our men small."

"Maybe because, I'm an ugly little git."

"Obviously you 'ave never looked in ze mirror."

"Let's not forget I'm the damn Boy-Who-Lived, born to serve the Greater Good."

Arms wrapped his waist, pulling him closer to the warm body of his... companion. "You are Harry Potter, ze man I vould like to know in an intimate nature, not a means to an end."

They sat silently and he could feel a stare drilling into the side of his head, tracing his features, warmly lovingly, but still holding the nervous trepidation. "Okay." was all he said, before blushing again.

"O'kay?" came an amused response.

"Okay, yeah!" he snapped, blush increasing further, making the arms around his waist squeeze him tighter. "I'll... y'know... date y- Agh!" he pulled his hands up to cover his face, too embarrassed to properly voice what he was thinking.

He felt the dainty but strong hands roll him over and lightly pull his hands from his face, pinning them to his sides. He slowly opened his eyes to find himself caged by Fleur's long limbs, a long grin decorating her face. She looked his the cat who got the canary. The older teen leaned down, pressing her plush red lips to his own light pink.

"But, d- don't stare at me so much anymore, yeah?"

She chuckled and nodded, leaning down to claim his lips again.

“She did.” He was smiling, “That’s how I knew the charm was fading. She was telling me to go faster and then she said ‘C’est marrant’.” She giggled at his butchering of the words. “What is it?” He asked her.

“It’s pronounced like this ‘C’est Marrant’.” She told him, enunciating the words for his benefit. For some reason, those words in her accent were possibly the most alluring words Harry had ever heard. “Try it again, we’ll see if I can’t make a proper Frenchman out of you,” Fleur said teasingly.

“C’est Marrant,” Harry repeated, doing his best to mimic the way Fleur had said it. Suddenly all Harry could see was the blonde of her hair and the blue of her eyes as he realized how close they were to each other.

Blue met green and for some reason that neither witch nor wizard could explain, all either wanted to do was kiss each other. It was nearly overwhelming, the urge to forget everything and just kiss each other. After a moment of hesitation, they did just that.

Neither knew when the kiss broke, if it was a moment or a lifetime.

He'd missed it. He realized. That was the kind of thing Sirius had spoken of. That was the moment he'd needed to act on. Harry felt his stomach drop. He knew he wouldn't get a chance like that.

Perhaps it simply wasn't meant to be. No, he couldn't believe that.

"And you 'elped!" he heard her say to Ron. He watched as she kissed Ron on the left cheek, and then the right as well. His friend's face quickly matched his hair.

"Yea, a bit," Ron muttered. And then Fleur turned back to Harry and everything seemed to slow.

"And you saved 'er!" she said again, leaning forward and kissing him again on the left cheek. He knew what to do next. Perhaps, as with Daphne, he got one mulligan. Regardless, he was going to take his chance. She moved in to kiss his right cheek, but her lips never got there.

Harry shifted his head, closed his eyes, and pressed his lips against hers. Fleur tensed immediately, becoming almost defensively rigid.

He heard the gasp from the crowd. Followed by the silence as everyone around contemplated what they saw. Followed by the mutterings from annoyed and disappointed students.

Still, she didn't move. He traced his tongue over her lips, thankful he had some practice, his arms slid protectively around her, his eyes remained closed. Blood pounded in his veins, he could hear his own heartbeat.

He didn't know how much time passed. It felt like hours, but he was sure it wasn't more than a second or two. But after that, Fleur's mouth opened, her lips parting wonderfully against his, as she kissed him back.