Disclaimer: This is simply fanfiction, I do not claim any rights over this at all. This work is just for the entertainment of myself and others, nothing more.

These first few chapters will be one-shots I've written previously that have been edited and tweaked. After that, it'll be new content. Just a heads up, updates will be sporadic, as I will write whenever I'm inspired.

I don't think I've ever heard of anyone on this site call this couple 'Flurry'. So, FIRST!

This is being edited and posted on Bastille Day, which is a French holiday. Somewhat fitting, don't you think?


Harry couldn't sleep. He had tossed and turned in his bed for the past hour while his dorm-mates had quietly dozed, or in Ron's case, loudly snored.

The Triwizard tournament was too much. He had already had to out fly a dragon and fight off grindylows in the Black Lake to save his friends that were never even in danger. In just a few short months from now, he had to navigate a maze with Merlin knew what magical creatures lurking in it. With Hagrid involved, there had to be just as, if not more dangerous than the dragons. Even with all the safety precautions in place, it's amazing no one had died yet.

Harry flipped onto his back and rested his hands at his sides.

He needed some air to clear his head. Harry swung his legs over the edge of his bed and stood. He grabbed a pair of shoes and the Marauder's Map from his trunk and crept past his sleeping roommates. Creeping down the stairs and crossing the common room, he slipped out of the portrait. Once he was out in the hallway, Harry slipped on the shoes and used a simple transfiguration spell on his pajamas, turning them into a pair of jeans and sweatshirt.

Harry quickly navigated past the sleeping paintings and out of the castle. Harry made his way through the cool air to the shores of the Black Lake, guided by moonlight. He sat down on a dead log that had drifted ashore and listened to the waves. A tree loomed over him, bathing him in darkness. Harry closed his eyes and smiled. It was quite relaxing.

The soft crash of the small waves was disturbed by faint music. Harry strained his ears to hear. It grew louder with each passing second. No, it wasn't music, it was someone singing. Harry turned to find the source of the singing, his eyes resting on a slender hooded figure walking down towards the shore. He couldn't make much out other that the figure seemed to be a girl.

As the figure grew closer, Harry began to decipher some of the sounds. He recognized some words. It was French! Hermione had taught him some French after her vacation in the country. Despite hardly paying any attention to her, it seemed like he had learned something.

The figure's features grew more prominent as it approached. Pants and a dark jacket clung to the girl's slim frame. A hood covered her head, but Harry definitely spotted some silvery blonde hair.

Despite him seeing her, she seemed to not have noticed him. She stopped not far from him, sitting down on a rock by the shore and gazing out at the dark waters, still singing in French, although more softly.

The girl transfigured a couple of rocks into logs, setting them alight with an incendio. Harry was well out of the range of the orange light, so he made no move to either reveal himself or hide any further.

Harry silently debated with himself on whether to approach the girl or not. On one hand, it'd probably be really creepy for him to just emerge out of the shadows. On the other hand, Harry had the strange need to talk to her, whoever she was. Then she answered his dilemma

"You are not zat sneaky, you know. You should probably come out, or you'll seem more creepy zan you already are and I'd 'ave to 'ex you."

Well, he couldn't argue with that. Harry walked into the orange light cast by the burning logs.

The girl pulled down her hood and looked at him. "Fleur? Fleur Delacour?" Harry realized when he was just steps away.

"'arry Potter?" Fleur smiled at her fellow competitor.

"Hi Fleur."

"'ello 'arry." Fleur patted the space next to her on the rock. "Come, sit." With no other true option other than run away, Harry obliged.

"You know, I wasn't trying to be sneaky." Harry explained.

"Mhm."

"I was already sitting in the dark when you got here."

"Sure you were, " Fleur smiled. "I'm sure little boys like yourself love peeking on girls." She teased. Harry's face grew tomato red at the comment. But it shifted when he realized what her comment implied.

"I am not a little boy." Harry said indignantly.

"Yes, little boys wouldn't be able to get into zis tournament."

"I am not a little boy." The wizard repeated. "I never even wanted to be in this stupid tournament anyways." Harry muttered under his breath.

"Pardon?"

"I said that this tournament is stupid." Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I never wanted to participate."

"Why? Zis tournament would give ze winner fame and glory! Everyone in Europe would know zeir name!" Fleur's eyes glazed over at the thought. "People would talk about them for years!"

"And?" Harry said sharply. "I don't want any of that!" He threw his hands up agitation. "I've had enough of it my whole life!"

"What? What do you mean?"

"I'm Harry-freaking-Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived! That's what I mean! My whole life has been fucking hell!" Harry shook with rage at his outburst, but took a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

"It 'as?" Fleur's expression was incredulous. "But you're ze savior of ze Wizarding World! I 'ad always assumed you were treated like royalty."

"Well you assumed wrong." Harry rested his elbows on his knees and stared at the dancing flames. "I was never raised around magic. For the first eleven years of my life, I lived with my Muggle relatives. They called me a freak and treated me like a slave. I didn't even know I was a wizard until Hagrid, our gamekeeper, tracked me down and told me the truth." Harry glanced at Fleur, who was silent, but he could see the surprise in her eyes. "Then, first year happened. I met Voldemort-" The Veela involuntary winced at the mention of the name. "-for the first time since I was a baby."

"Wait, didn't you kill You-Know-Who all zose years ago?"

"Apparently, I didn't kill all of him. His soul managed to escape when the killing curse rebounded on him. Anyways, I managed to defeat him again. In the second year, I was accused of being a dark wizard because I'm a parseltongue. Pretty much the whole school ostracized me. Only a few students and teachers stuck with me. I then had to fight Voldemort, except this one was a younger version trapped in a diary, sort of like a memory, and his basilisk in a dungeon underneath the school. I also learned Voldemort's true name, Tom Riddle. And to make a long story short for third year, there was thankfully no Voldemort, I found out who my godfather was, my parents' true traitor and fought some Dementors."

Fleur sat there for a moment, processing all the information given to her.

She took his hand and his own and began slowly. "'arry, I'm sorry for misjudging and for you calling you a little boy."

"It's alright."

There was a flash of movement and suddenly Fleur's arm's were wrapped around Harry's neck and her body pressed up against his in a very intimate hug. A pink tinge invaded his cheeks.

"I know nothing can fix or change what 'as 'appened to you, 'arry. But I 'ope that things will turn for the better for you." Tears beginning to stream down his face, Harry returned the hug. No one had ever said that to him.

They released each other.

"I zought you weren't a little boy? Only little boys and girls cry." Fleur teased. Harry waved her off with a chuckle.

"Thank you, Fleur." He wiped away tears and rose from his seat. "I think I'll go back to my dorm now. I came down here to clear my head and it feels a lot clearer now. "Good luck on the tournament."

"Bonne Chance and Good night, 'arry." Fleur hugged him again, this time much less intimate.

"Good night, Fleur."

When Harry returned to his dorm, he fell onto his bed with a content smile gracing his lips.


Seriously, it'd be pretty awesome if 'Flurry' became a thing. WE SHOULD MAKE THIS A THING.

Before any of you start asking for follow-ups, please don't. I do not have any plans in the near future to write sequels to any of the chapters. I may revisit a chapter and elaborate on the aftermath, but that's in the far, distant future. Besides, I'm not nearly confident in my ability to write follow-ups that would stack up against the original.

Questions, Comments, Concerns?