The willow tree had lost the last of its leaves, letting the dappled light of a weak, nearly winter sun slip through the clouds and fall across Fleur's face. It was a faint, pleasant warmth on her skin as she lay along the length of the branch, her head resting in Harry's lap.
These were the moments she treasured. They seemed so far from the rest of the world and the gathering troubles it was easy to forget everything else and just enjoy the sunlight playing across her face.
A single wet drop landed on her cheek, the first threat of rain from the cloud-patched sky.
Sooner or later it always has to end.
'We should head back to the chateau,' Harry commented, brushing the droplet off her cheek, and replacing his glasses on his nose. 'It's going to rain properly this time.' Fleur frowned, she preferred him without the spectacles, they hindered her view of his eyes.
There had been scattered, brief rain and faint rainbows all day. The sky could not seem to decide whether to go with sun or showers.
Fleur reluctantly sat up. She supposed Harry was right, but Gabrielle was back at the chateau for the weekend and likely bored enough to cause trouble.
'Are you going to apparate me?' He asked her. 'Or do I have to walk in the rain?'
'If my parents were around you would be offering to walk,' Fleur remarked with a touch of humour.
Harry had understood where her parents were coming from, and she knew he didn't really blame them, but he still didn't like how they slightly disapproved of his relationship with Fleur. Every time he conversed with them Fleur could detect the thinnest veneer of ice in his ever polite voice. She could hardly blame him, not when she'd reacted so much more strongly than him.
Her father had taken to leaving copies of the Daily Prophet out where she could see them, just like the spiteful girls had done last year. He meant well, Fleur knew he did, but he had no right to do what he was doing and she had told him so, bright-blue, conjured flames running over her fingers as she yelled at him.
'I have nothing against your family,' Harry told her smoothly, but he looked a little guilty.
'You get on with Gabrielle,' Fleur agreed, smiling at him to show she didn't mind, 'but you did bribe her with Clafoutis, so I'm not sure it counts.'
'It wasn't a bribe,' Harry protested. 'It was a deal. I gave her the Clafoutis and she would stop pestering us about being romantic.' 'Well it's worked so far,' Fleur congratulated him.
The raindrops began to fall in earnest, beating an increasingly fast-paced staccato that dissolved into the patter of a full shower, drowning out the sound of the river beside them.
'Let's go,' Fleur decided, taking Harry's arm, and apparating them back into the safety of the chateau before they got soaked.
'Did you kiss in the rain?' Gabby asked cheerfully, bounding into the entrance hall at the sound of their apparition.
'No,' Harry answered resignedly.
'It's ok,' Fleur patted him comfortingly on the shoulder, 'the deal lasted a lot longer than anyone expected.' 'Three hours is not a long time,' Harry pointed out. 'We've barely seen each other since we went to Paris!'
'Are you going back outside to kiss?' Gabrielle pressed.
'I will hex you,' Fleur promised her little sister sweetly.
Gabby stuck her tongue out childishly. 'I'm bored,' she pouted, 'there's nothing to do except read and I've been reading all morning. I even read that silly English paper.'
Harry looked vaguely apprehensive, casting a glance past Gabrielle into the room behind her.
'I've read it,' Fleur told him. 'There's nothing about you, for once.'
'Just a big article about an escape from Azkaban,' Gabby agreed. Harry blinked, then swept past her sister to snatch the paper from the table and read it himself.
He read it quickly, skimming down the column with hardening eyes.
'Is any of it true?' Fleur asked him gently.
'Some of it,' he shook his head angrily, 'I have no doubt that these prisoners have escaped, but it wasn't Sirius Black that helped them.'
'I thought Black was a Death Eater too?' Gabby asked from the entrance hall.
'He wasn't,' Harry replied firmly. He gave Fleur a look that promised an explanation, then changed the subject. 'Do you want to help me practise hex deflection?'
Fleur nodded, then flicked her hair back over her shoulder. She had promised to help him and being able to block and deflect spells was crucial, that and throwing stinging hexes at him would be quite fun for her.
'Can I help?' Gabrielle asked eagerly.
'Only if Fleur agrees and you promise not to ask anymore questions about kissing in the rain,' Harry replied dryly.
'You can help,' she assured her little sister. 'We're going to be hexing Harry until he learns to block and deflect them back.'
Gabrielle grinned, then froze at the sound of hissing from the kitchen. 'My hot chocolate,' she exclaimed, scampering off to rescue her drink. Her little sister had avoided managing to make that promise quite well.
'Come one,' Fleur gave him a gentle push in the direction of the basement, 'you can tell me about Sirius Black on the way while Gabby is distracted.'
Harry nodded, and let her lead him away.
Once they were a few metres down the stairs and out of earshot of her sister he began to explain. 'Sirius is my godfather,' he told her simply. 'None of what they say about him is true. He never betrayed my parents and he certainly didn't help anyone escape from Azkaban.'
'What really happened?' Fleur asked.
'Voldemort broke them out,' Harry responded slowly, as if she had missed something very obvious.
'I meant at Godric's Hollow.'
'That makes more sense,' Harry grinned, then his face shifted into something more sombre. 'Sirius was supposed to be the secret keeper for the Fidelius Charm, but it was decided that he was too obvious so they switched to Peter Pettigrew at the last moment. The rat was the true traitor, he faked his death and Sirius ended up in Azkaban.'
'Pettigrew's still alive,' she realised. 'He better hope we never get our hands on him.'
'He's dead,' Harry told her, as they made their way past the wine racks into the reinforced and warded part of the basement. 'He was killed last year, someone from Beauxbatons found what Dumbledore told me was his body.'
Fleur paled. It had been her and Gabrielle that had found the wizard's body in the Forbidden Forest. She quite vividly remembered the scorched skeleton.
'What's wrong?' Harry asked, taking her hand.
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