11 - First Date

Fleur sighed heavily as she fidgeted with her hair in front of the mirror. Had anyone told her two weeks ago that she would be nervous about a date with a younger boy, she would have laughed at them. Who would ever expect Fleur Delacour, Queen of Cold, to go out with someone three years younger and actually care about the outcome?

Not Fleur, that much was certain.

Given the circumstances, she should have been worried about making a good impression to ensure that he would still marry her, but she could not bring herself to do so. Instead, she wanted this to be a good day simply because he was a genuinely nice boy. And that he had so few good times to recall as it was, made her all the more determined.

She was relatively certain that when her father used the euphemism "less than ideal" to describe Harry's living conditions, he actually meant "abusive." It was hard to imagine – he was too famous to have a life like that, wasn't he? – but she could not think of any other reason for the warning not to question him. Between that and his reaction to Caterine that night, she could come to no other conclusion.

And that was to say nothing of his school career.

Fleur dropped her hands and leaned against the wardrobe for a moment as she was assaulted by the memories she had seen in the Pensieve. Truly, his experiences at Hogwarts would have been horrifying for someone three times his age. The diary alone was enough to give her nightmares.

When she learned that he had defeated a basilisk, she initially pictured a relatively small creature, but the one he fought was nothing of the sort. It was likely a thousand years old from what he said, and it was nearly sixty feet long. And he was bitten by the thing!

That he survived was amazing, and not simply for the physical danger that was involved.

Prior to the incident at Chateau Delacour, he appeared to her as a very well adjusted young man, if a little overly mature for his age. He was rather dour at times, but that was understandable given the dangers he was facing in the Tournament. But now she saw another side of him – a vulnerable side – that made her wonder how he could even go on.

She could not help but come to the conclusion that, just like her, he maintained a front to prevent others from learning who he really was inside. He hid behind his amazing courage, allowing it to dominate his interactions with others. Nobody knew that he was far from whole; that he was quite broken underneath that impressive strength.

It was guesswork on her part, but it made sense, and it made her want to help him – to give him the love that he so clearly lacked in his life. And so here she stood, primping in front of a mirror, trying to make herself even more beautiful for what would hopefully be a fun day in the nearby town. She had to admit that she was curious to know what he considered fun.

Shaking off her thoughts, Fleur glanced at herself in the mirror one last time before finally deciding that she was as presentable as she was going to get. She had gone to great lengths to look her best today, and it was a lot of work, even given her heritage. This was not something she would have done for just anybody – her natural beauty usually carried her through – but she was certain that he would appreciate it.

She found a bright, warm morning awaiting her when she stepped out of the carriage, and she savored it as she walked slowly to the castle.

When she reached the Great Hall, Fleur was unsurprised to see Harry already sitting with his friends. As always, many heads turned as she moved toward the Gryffindor table to join them, but she tried to ignore the unwelcome attention as best she could. Unfortunately, she was dressed up enough that even the boys who had some self control were staring, and she suddenly wondered at the wisdom of her decision.

Was this what would happen in Hogsmeade? The last thing Harry needed was more attention, and if they were spotted in town, it would likely get around quickly. She frowned at the thought, but then abruptly pushed it aside; people were going to have to get used to it, so there was no use in worrying.

Between his fame and her beauty, there was little they could do to avoid being noticed.

Snorting morbidly to herself, Fleur made her way up the aisle. Harry was sitting with his back to her – which was unusual since he normally liked to watch the rest of the Hall at meals – with Ron and Hermione seated across from him. Ron looked up at her approach, and his eyes glazed over, his expression instantly losing cohesion.

He was worse than almost any other boy she had ever had the displeasure of meeting! Granted, he was young, but this was going a bit far, and she did not know what to do about it. How was she supposed to avoid destroying Harry's friendship with him when he could barely string two words together in her presence?

And Harry noticed it quickly, as usual. He stiffened, his gaze fixed on the obnoxious boy, and she did not need to see his face to know that he was scowling. Still buried in her book, Hermione was oblivious at the moment.

Fleur put it from her mind, though, and laid her hand against the nape of Harry's neck in greeting. "Bonjour," she said, gracing him with a genuine smile.

The smile he sent back to her was unusually shy, even for him. "Morning," he returned quietly.

Clearly he was nervous, but for his sake, where she would have teased another boy, she ignored it and slid gracefully into the seat beside him, which he was obviously saving for her. His eyes followed her down, a mixture of emotions playing behind them. Yes, he was nervous, but he was also pleased to see her. She was mesmerized by it for a moment, and could not look away.

But then–

Thump.

"Hey!" griped Ron. "Stop kicking me, Hermione!"

"We talked about this not five minutes ago, Ronald," she scowled. "Knock it off!"

"Sorry," he grumbled darkly.

Fleur winced, and Harry's face fell, morphing into a scowl as he turned to send a meaningful glare at his friend. She did not have to guess to know that the issue of Ron's inattention the previous evening had been discussed, and it was clear that neither Harry nor Hermione were happy with the boy. She was both flattered and horrified by that fact.

With an inward sigh, though, she did her best to ignore it, and simply reached for the food and began to dish up while watching Harry from the corner of her eye. He was even quieter than usual this morning, probably out of nerves, and was not eating much. In fact, five minutes into the meal, he took to nervously shredding a napkin with his fingers, his food all but forgotten.

Fleur finally reached over and snatched it from him with an amused smile. "You are making a mess," she informed him. "I am not zat scary, am I?"

Harry blinked up at her and promptly blushed. "Sorry," he grumbled in embarrassment.

Her smile softened sympathetically, and she gently combed her fingers through his hair in silent apology. He closed his eyes in response, a small smile playing briefly on his lips; it was clear to her that, despite his issues with physical contact, he greatly enjoyed it from those he truly trusted. Whether or not that included her was another question, but she was resolved to get him used to it.

Her internal musings were interrupted however, when–

"So where are we going first?" asked Ron.

Fleur arched an eyebrow at his presumption, but said nothing.

"Sorry, Ron, I have a date," said Harry quietly.

Ron stared at him for a moment, and then snorted derisively. "Uh huh," he said skeptically. "With who?"

Fleur's hackles rose at the boy's obviously low opinion of Harry's chances with the girls. He was handsome, famous, brave, and so incredibly sweet, that she doubted almost anyone would deny him! She had to wonder if Ron could possibly be so clueless as he appeared, and for once, the disgusted expression that appeared on her features was entirely genuine.

"I should zink zat would be obvious," she scowled.

Ron's eyes bulged. "You're going with her?" he asked Harry incredulously.

"Yes, Ron," sighed Harry with remarkable patience. "I'm going with her."

Ron blinked stupidly back at him. Fleur could not tell what he was thinking – or even if he was doing so at all. It was obvious that he didn't believe his best friend rated her as a date though, and that made her wonder why they were friends at all. She would not have put up with someone who had such a low opinion of her.

"Oh," he finally said, shaking himself out of his daze. Then he turned instead to the girl next to him, who still had her nose in a book. "So where are we going, Hermione?" he asked.

The thunderous scowl that appeared on Hermione's face at the question was something to behold. While Fleur could certainly have given her some pointers given her long experience, she was still seriously impressed! The way she stared imperiously down her nose at the redhead from over the top of her book was positively masterful.

"Don't you ever listen?" she asked him disgustedly. "I told you last week that I have a date, Ron!"

"You do?" asked Harry in sudden surprise. "I don't remember you saying anything about it, and I'm not usually that ignorant."

Hermione's expression softened as she turned toward him. "Neville asked me while you were having dinner with Sebastian," she explained, even as a small smile appeared on her lips. "He was really sweet about it, so I said yes."

"What?" yelped Ron before Harry could respond. "You're going with Neville? Squib Neville?"

"Don't call him that!" snarled Hermione.

"What? It's true, innit?"

"He does better in class than you do, Ron!"

Fleur's gaze bounced back and forth between them as the argument picked up steam, and she could not help but feel like she was intruding. And, surprisingly enough, Harry looked like he felt the same way. The frown he wore said it all, and finally he turned to her with a resigned expression.

"Er, do you want to go?" he asked tentatively. Fleur eyed her nearly untouched breakfast, but then Harry smiled shyly at her. "We can get breakfast in Hogsmeade if you want," he offered. "I didn't eat much either."

Fleur glanced with mild disgust at the still-arguing pair. Not that she could blame Hermione for it – the girl had good reason to be annoyed – but it wasn't something she cared to listen to. How Harry put up with it was quite a mystery, and even as a mere guest in the castle, she was well aware that this was not an uncommon occurrence between those two. She really didn't need to see it up close and personal.

And so, with that in mind...

"Oui," she said decisively. "Let us find somewhere more... peaceful."

==========[break]==========

Harry thought breakfast went reasonably well, with the notable exception that the conversation was somewhat stilted. This was completely new territory for him, and he had no idea what to talk about with Fleur. He had to give her credit, though: she was very patient with him, and not once did she seem like she was annoyed.

She also agreed to meet Sirius that afternoon, which was something, at least.

They spent most of the morning wandering from shop to shop, and though conversation was all but nonexistent, Fleur appeared to be having a good time. He paid close attention as she browsed, noting what she liked and didn't. He was surprised to find that she loved the little things, and all but ignored the bigger, more expensive items.

He wasn't bored, per se, but this wasn't at all how he pictured a date going. There weren't even any fancy restaurants in Hogsmeade where he could take her for lunch or dinner! His only concession to a romantic encounter was when he stopped to buy her flowers; she was delighted by the gesture, and now wore a single red rose in her hair over her right ear.

But as they finally sat down for lunch in the Three Broomsticks, his nerves finally caught up with him, and he couldn't help his distraction. As the silence stretched on, he stared over her shoulder, his mind spinning with worry. What was he thinking, asking someone like Fleur on a date? She was way out of his league!

But then–

"'Arry?" she called.

He focused back on the present to find her watching him with an understanding smile that he felt he didn't deserve. She had truly gone to a great deal of effort for him – she was gorgeous on any given day, but today she was something else entirely – and here he was, bolluxing it up! What was he supposed to say?

"Is somezing wrong?" she prompted with a slight frown, a worried crease appearing on her forehead.

Harry stared at her for a long moment. A large part of him wanted to leave and forget that this so-called date ever happened, but he couldn't do that to her. He had to at least try, considering that they were supposed to get married soon!

"Yeah," he heard himself sigh. "Sorry, Fleur, this is just... awkward, you know?" To his horror, once the floodgates were opened, he couldn't get them closed again. "I mean, what am I supposed to be doing?" he babbled. "I don't even know what to talk about! And, what do you even like to do? Are you bored? I didn't mean to–"

Fleur abruptly silenced his sudden nervous tirade by reaching across the table and pressing a finger to his lips. "I 'ave enjoyed ze morning very much, 'Arry," she said softly, with that same understanding smile. "It will take time for us to get to know each ozzer, non?"

Harry blinked. "Yeah, I guess," he sighed. "This is just weird, you know?"

"Is it because I am older?" she asked curiously.

Harry frowned and dropped his gaze to the table as he thought about that. Was that the reason this was so awkward? No, he didn't think so. It was more that he had only asked her out because he felt it was the right thing to do, not because he actually wanted to date her. Was that the source of the problem?

Finally he shook his head and looked up to fix her with a thoughtful expression.

"That's not it," he mused. And then he sighed. "Maybe you're right," he said with a shrug. "We just have to get to know each other, I guess."

Fleur smiled a genuine smile at him and brushed her hair back over her shoulder so she could lean forward and put her elbows on the table. He watched as she propped her chin on her hands, and was surprised by the genuinely interested look in her beautiful blue eyes. It wasn't a demanding one; just simple curiosity near as he could tell.

"Zen per'aps we should start," she suggested. "So tell me, 'Arry, what do you like to do for fun?"

Harry blinked bemusedly back at her for a long moment, but then, as he realized that they finally had a topic of conversation, a small smile appeared on his lips. Was that his problem? That he was beating around the bush, trying to avoid asking direct questions like that one?

It was an easy enough problem to solve...

"Well," he said slowly, his smile growing as he thought about it, "I guess flying has to be my favorite..."

==========[break]==========

Fleur was immensely relieved. She had watched over the course of the morning as he folded into himself, withdrawing further and further as time went by, but she could not figure out what to do about it. But then lunch came, and somehow – by some miracle – she managed to get him to open up a little.

He relaxed more and more as they traded questions and answers, and, with some surprise, she realized that it was also putting her more at ease. She had been so focused on making the day enjoyable for him, that she had not even realized how awkward she was feeling herself. And now that awkwardness was all but gone!

It was perhaps fortunate that they were at a secluded table in the back where no one could see them, because they remained there, simply talking, until it was time to meet his godfather. It was interesting hearing his perspectives, desires, and dreams, and though she was well aware that they had barely scratched the surface, it was still a very good start. She hoped he felt the same way.

She even managed to snag his hand as they left the tavern, and he smiled in response.

They were early reaching the stile where he was supposed to meet his godfather, and Fleur wondered what would happen if she gave things another little push. And the more she thought about it, the more she thought it might be a good idea. It was highly unlikely that Harry would be the one to start anything.

She did not yet love him in the way she wanted to, but she did care greatly for him, and that would be enough for now. Having love in her life was important to her – it had always been her greatest fear that her allure would prevent her from finding it – and she was beginning to suspect that he might be able to give her that someday. She did not want to be a big sister to him, so why not do something to help set the tone?

And with that in mind, as they came to a halt at the stile, Fleur interrupted his search of the surrounding area by gently grabbing his chin and turning his head toward her.

He looked at her in confusion, and though she could admit that she was nervous and felt a bit awkward about it, she leaned in, causing his eyes to widen. She was surprised when he didn't tense up much; it was as though he simply gathered his courage and went with it. He was clearly nervous, but also as curious as the next boy.

The kiss was nothing special – at least as far as she knew, given that she had never kissed a boy before – but it was nevertheless one that she would remember for the rest of her life. Their lips brushed cautiously, tentatively, but with caring feeling, and it struck her as a perfect corollary to their budding relationship. And while it was not passionate, it was not a mere peck either.

And then something cold and wet abruptly stuck itself between her legs.

==========[break]==========

One thing Harry hadn't yet considered where Fleur was concerned was that they might actually snog. It was a startling concept, and caught him completely off guard, but yet he lost himself in it, truly enjoying the sensation. As nervous as he was about it, it was still far better than he ever would have imagined!

And then Fleur let out a startled yelp and danced away from him, nearly knocking him over in the process.

Bewildered, and worried that he'd done something wrong, his eyes shot open – only to come to rest on a shaggy black dog that was currently trying to stick its nose in her crotch while she repeatedly batted it away. With an irritated scowl, Harry drew his wand and snapped off a stinging hex, catching him on the hindquarters.

Now it was the dog's turn to let out a startled yelp.

"Knock it off, Padfoot!" he scowled. "Or I'll freeze your nose to the stile and leave you here!"

Fleur looked relieved when the dog backed off to lay on his belly, covering his eyes with his paws and whining pitifully. Harry snorted in morbid amusement – and suddenly found himself hoping that his godfather wouldn't pull a Ron where Fleur was concerned. That would be embarrassing! And he was rather annoyed that he'd just had his first ever kiss interrupted...

"Serves you right," he grumbled. And then he saw a light of realization dawn in Fleur's eyes, and sighed. "Fleur, meet Padfoot," he introduced. "Padfoot, Fleur. She knows, so let's go somewhere and talk, yeah?"

Fleur's eyes narrowed. "Zis cabot zat just interrupted out first kiss is Padfoot?" she asked dangerously, drawing a worried look from the dog in question.

Under other circumstances Harry would have been worried – she was veela, and he was not looking forward to discovering her temper – but he could see a glint of humor in her eyes. He suddenly had a feeling that Sirius was in for a bad day, and returned briefly to his daydreams of Marauding veela, but quickly shook it off.

"You're in trouble now, Padfoot!" he suddenly grinned.

Fleur smirked evilly.

Yes, Padfoot might have a very bad day indeed.