Fleur turned the smooth, silver locket over in her hands, brushing her thumb around the line of the opening. The round-cornered, triangular ornament was her finest and favourite creation. She snapped it open, gazing at the tiny reflection of her face, in the three-sided mirror within. It was three inches along each edge and normally hung over her heart on its slim, silver chain.
Harry had one of his own, to wear in the same fashion.
'Le lotus,' she breathed gently, and waited for Harry to feel his own copy grow hot. She had chosen her second favourite flower as the word to activate the enchantment. Fleur liked roses most of all, but she cringed at the thought of using such a clichéd flower for something like this. It was bad enough that her name was Fleur, but she hadn't realised that until Harry had laughingly pointed it out.
The mirror surface went black, then Harry was gazing up at her.
'Do you have time to visit?' she asked, hopefully. Fleur had missed him enough to be glad there wasn't a Room of Requirement at Beauxbatons. It was also a trap, her parents had stopped waiting for her to tell them on her own terms and begun to press her about where she was spending all her time. Harry would have to face the music.
'Of course I do,' he smiled. The mirror shifted, and she caught a brief glimpse of an imposing portrait in green and silver and shelves of books. She assumed it was part of the library she had never found her way too.
'Argent,' she heard him whisper, then he was standing in front of her, shutting his locket and tucking it back under his robes.
'I missed you,' she murmured, feeling the blush creep up the sides of her face as she stepped closer to him.
'I had to avoid the room for a few days,' he confessed, looking slightly mortified. His words brought something warm to life inside her, glowing from her chest.
Fleur stepped in next to him, wrapping her arms around his chest and leaning her left cheek on his right shoulder. Harry swept his arms over hers around her shoulders without hesitation. He'd grown taller over the summer, tall enough for her to lean on very comfortably if she let her feet slide back her few inches. They were almost the same height now.
'How have you been?' he asked her, talking over the top of her head as he squeezed her gently against him.
'Bored, lonely,' she smiled a little regretfully. 'Gabby has grown up now,' she told him, 'she spends all her time throwing fire at things just because she can.' 'What about her sister's mystery romance? Will she throw fire at me?' He stepped back from her, and Fleur looked up at him, her head rest gone.
'Gabrielle's a much more sensitive veela than I am,' she reminded him, 'but I am stronger. I would toast her for trying.' She reached out and traced the triangle on his cheekbone, he didn't flinch. Harry never flinched from her anymore. 'Besides, that would ruin the story, no?'
Harry laughed. 'I suppose it would.' He caught her fingers and pulled her back towards him, kissing her eagerly upturned lips. 'Have you brought me back to teach me more french?' He teased.
'I've taught you plenty of french,' she defended, switching languages, 'you know enough to hold a normal conversation.'
He smiled, slipping his hand to the back of her neck and into her hair, running his fingers through it. 'You have,' he agreed, in only slightly accented french. Fleur was too busy enjoying the shivers from having his fingers in her hair to reply immediately.
'What are things like in Britain?' She had heard over the summer that the Ministry of Magic had ignored the warnings of both Harry and Albus Dumbledore, something she thought was very unwise, and since then Harry hadn't told her much more than they were trying to discredit the claims anyway they could.
'Hogwarts is unchanged, still grey, draughty and unattractive,' he smirked. 'We have a teacher from the ministry for Defence Against the Dark Arts. She's an unpleasant, ugly woman whose real role is to try and open a rift between the students there and anyone who agrees with Dumbledore.'
'What has she done?' Harry's eyes hardened. 'Most of the time she just spews nonsense, and does her best to stop us learning anything that might be practically useful, just in case any of us decide to join the imaginary coup that Dumbledore is supposed to be leading, but she has a vicious streak in her.'
'What are you doing?' Fleur doubted Harry would take it lying down, even if he pretended to in the beginning.
'Nothing yet,' he grinned. 'Everyone hates Umbridge already, and that teaching position is cursed, nobody ever lasts longer than a year. If she keeps spouting hateful nonsense about half-humans though,' his voice darkened angrily.
'Hey,' she entwined their fingers together, stopping him from running his hand through her hair. 'I don't care what she thinks.' 'I care,' he ground out. 'She's walking across very thin ice as she is, insulting you…' he trailed off, taking deep breaths to regain his calm. 'Insulting me makes sense, they're trying to discredit Dumbledore and I am the source of his announcement that Voldemort has returned, but there is no justification or reason for her saying things about you.'
'Me, specifically?'
Does the British Ministry somehow know about us?
'No,' Harry conceded, 'she hates anything that isn't at least fully human and well-connected to a pure-blooded family.'
Fleur snorted. 'Veela are fully human,' she sighed. 'You know that.'
'She doesn't,' Harry shook his head angrily, 'every disgusting piece of bigotry that leaves her mouth is aimed at you and Lupin.'
'Lupin?'
'A friend of my parents, he taught at the school for a year, but he's a werewolf.'
Fleur laughed. 'A werewolf whose name is Lupin?'
'I know,' Harry smiled, his anger mostly forgotten.
'This teacher. If she is sent by the Ministry then she will be a danger to you, especially if you let her get to you.' She didn't need all the details to guess that this teacher would go out of her way to cause trouble for Harry. 'Promise me that if you do anything, anything against her, that you will be careful, she demanded fiercely.
'I promise,' he agreed readily. 'If I get caught I will have to come and stay here,' he remarked playfully. Fleur rather liked the sound of that.
'You'll have to get caught then,' she smiled, releasing his hand and kissing him softly on the cheek over his triangle shaped scar.
'Perhaps it would be worth it,' he mused. For a moment he looked serious and Fleur allowed herself to briefly dream.
There were too many bitter realities for her vision to last long.
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