Title: A Summer Escape
Author: enchanted nightingale
Beta Reader: pussycatadamah
Timeline: 5th year
Summary: After his 4th year the Delacour's see Harry alone at Kings Cross and decide to take him to France where an unusual romance blooms between Harry and Rabastan Lestrange. But will it last longer than the first night?
Pairs: Harry Potter/ Rabastan Lestrange, Fleur/ Kingsley Shacklebolt (for this chapter)
Disclaimer: The characters from Harry Potter books do not belong to me. I merely use them in my plot for fun.
A/N: This story has been edited. Also it was pointed out to me that in the Harry Potter stories Madam Delacour's name is Apolline. I had 'named' her Isabeau but it is changed in the edited version. Enjoy!
Harry collapsed on the hard, pale chest.
His temples were dripping with sweat and his body was wet from their activities. His ragged breath was joined by his partner's. It seemed that he was too was exhausted. Still, it was a very warm night and after all the rolling around he felt too bothered to sleep even though he was exhausted. The sounds of the street below were not helping any.
He was placed on the bed and pulled against the other male. It was better now and more comfortable.
"Just go to sleep," he murmured to the younger man.
Harry tried to settle down but he felt sticky with semen and sweat covering him.
"Can't; I need a shower."
He heard a muttered cleaning spell that was followed by a cooling charm. The sensation was odd on his tired body but after all the strain he took he was too tired to do anything but sleep.
Fleur was not used to being so worried. It had only been two weeks that Harry Potter followed her in her home country.
After the end of the Triwizard Tournament she felt numb. The death of Cedric Diggory had not left her unmoved, nor did the fact that she was hit by the Cruciatus from Victor Krum, even though the other teen had been under the Imperius Curse. She knew it meant that peace would not last long. Last time her country had not been seriously affected by the Dark Lord but it did not mean she was not worried for the bonds she had formed with a few of the British witches and wizards, especially one Harry Potter.
The raven haired, green eyed wizard was the centre of her thoughts ever since she and her family found him sitting alone in the platform waiting for his relatives to show up. After five hours she and her sister Gabrielle insisted they waited to see what would happen. After that time they spent watching the lonely boy with his snowy owl it was Apolline Delacour herself that approached the young teen with her husband, Armand, a step behind. Apolline was half Veela and expecting again, so her mothering instincts were at an all time high. Her husband had to distract her from finding out the boy's relatives and punishing them with a world of pain. For Fleur's mother the situation was simple, Harry would follow them to France.
The teen had blinked at them, his mouth wide open at the declaration. Then he offered a timid smile. And then declined, telling them he did not want them to get in trouble for him and that his family would be there at some point.
"Non, Mon Cher (No my dear,) you are coming vith us," Apolline insisted. Her accent was clearer than her daughter's. "You need to eat a bit more…"
She had then motioned to Armand to take care of Harry's luggage and then pulled the teen after her, chattering about plans she had for him.
Fleur and Gabrielle had shared a look and followed after them with delighted smiles.
After that it was a blur. Harry was given his own room, taken shopping and Armand himself had accompanied the boy to the Healers were it was found he was underweight and had a couple of still healing injuries while he suffered from badly mended broken bones. In a few words Harry Potter had been a mess. But the Delacour's took care of everything and the British wizard became another family member to them.
On his birthday Fleur had decided to take him out for a couple of drinks, dance and flirt even. So she was decisively worried when he ended up in a different place than her. She eyed the still sleeping figure on the bed behind her. He was a handsome man, tall, muscled and exotic with his chocolate brown skin and a nice fang earring. He was a good partner and talented in bed but she still found herself remembering the handsome redhead that last day of the Tournament.
Still, her mind returned to the present and the fact that it was seven in the morning and she had not the slightest idea where Harry was.
"Ma mère va me tuer (My mother is going to kill me)" Fleur groaned.
Harry woke up because of the burn he felt in his bum. And then there was the rapid talking he heard from another room. He did not understand a word save 'petit déjeuner'. His stomach grumbled at the mere mention of breakfast and the teen blushed, glad he was alone and no one heard. He took time to glance around the room. The night before he had been driven by lust and it was a bit embarrassing now.
"You're up," a deep voice commented.
Harry swallowed. In the morning light everything was different. That silky, ebony black, long hair and dark grey eyes looked better. His skin was also pale, almost white. He also wore only loose pyjama bottoms, revealing a slim, sculptured figure. He was not bulky, or bony, just perfect. The man smirked as he levitated the tray that flowed behind him onto the bed.
"Get back on," he firmly said.
Harry nodded. He did not struggle to remember the name he had been screaming for the better part of the previous night.
"Thank you Rabastan," Harry replied. He eyed the croissants with interest as he climbed back on the bed. He sat gingerly, his butt still tender and burning from all their night time activities.
Rabastan butted his hand away, took a croissant and dipped it in cream.
"Taste's better this way," the other man replied.
Harry took a bite and hummed. It really was delicious. And he preferred it to the high fat diet served at Hogwarts. He was not even considering the measly meals he got at the Dursley's. He pushed that thought out of his mind and took another bite. All the while Rabastan watched him eat.
"Aren't you going to eat?" Harry asked.
The other man shook his head. "I don't have much of an appetite."
Harry shook his head, grabbed another croissant and dipped it into cream. Then he offered it to Rabastan, smearing a bit of the white cream on his lips. The man smiled with his eyes as he took a bite and chewed thoughtfully.
"Tasty, but…" he took the food Harry held and placed it on the tray. Then he leaned over and kissed the teen on the lips. It was hard and demanding and Harry loved it. Even the night before Rabastan had not been very gentle, but he took care when he realized Harry had been a virgin. He was intense and passionate and Harry lost himself in the sensations.
As he was lowered on the bed again, Harry thought that this was his best birthday ever.
End of chapter