Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: First Harry Potter fanfic, still adjusting... By the way, this is a romance (almost purely at that) because I suck at writing adventure.

Chapter 1

Fleur squinted at the bright light coming from the overhead sun. Above her were hundreds of banners in different colors from bright red to a deep yellow, no doubt in honor of the Gryffindor house.

The Ministry truly outdid themselves in kowtowing to the Boy Who Lived. This whole set up was for Harry after all. Not that he didn't deserve it but she doubts that the young hero would appreciate such a grand showing. It wasn't in him to be boastful, unlike a certain red-haired friend.

Both Bill and her have already received their own medals for assisting during the Third Wizarding War and it was now prominently displayed on the mantle in the Burrow along with the other medals received by most of the Weasley children. In addition to a shiny new ornament, they were also given a certain amount as reward for assisting the savior of the Wizarding world.

Fleur, without hesitation, declined the funds while the rest of the Weasley's were grateful for it. She didn't know what to feel about that. It seemed wrong to accept such materialistic lagniappe from the very institution that slandered Harry in the months leading to the war. She knew that Harry actually laughed at them and flung the cash back, telling the Ministry to donate everything to restoration activities, which was very much like hi-

Her musings were interrupted by Bill who tugged on her hand, gesturing for her to move forward. Both of them, along with all those who survived the war were situated near the built stage. "I think that they overdid a tad bit on the decorations" Bill whispered to her ear.

"Oui" The wind blew hard and her hood was flung back simultaneously releasing her silvery hair, which rode the winds gently. Behind her, she could hear a collective inhalation of breath from the onlookers.

And beside her, Bill was momentarily struck silent. Fleur knew that despite his denials, Bill was still quite affected by her allure.

"Bill, ve need to move now. Ze crowd is getting more antsy..." She shied away when one rather weak-minded wizard tried to grab at her sleeve.

She yanked her arm away and fixed the man, who she now had a good look at, with a withering stare. Unfortunately, the pimply, bucktoothed coot was unaffected and was in fact, looking more interested.

Bill, waking from his stupor, quickly elbowed their way through the crowd. Meanwhile, Fleur threw her cloak over yet again to avoid further stimulating the crowd.

"Just in time" Bill looked back smiling "Look, the Minister just appeared." They took their seats near the rest of the Weasley clan and Hermione who was glaring resentfully at Ron who still sported a glazed look.

Fleur simply sighed and adjusted her robe tighter. She didn't know why all of them had to be here.

"Good morning to all of you" Kingsley started "as the new Minister of Magic, I am honored to be standing here and umm, presenting our savior ummm with this..." Flear thought that Shackerlbolt looked oddly constipated as he gestured towards the obscenely large trophy shaped as a lighting bolt.

As a previous crime fighting auror, the new minister could be feeling awkward and tired of all these excessive activities that ministry officials are coaxing up.

Yet, despite the rather lackluster speech, the applause was still deafening... as it should be. She clapped enthusiastically along with the Weasley family. In the corner of her eye, she saw a lanky boy stepping carefully on the stage. His shoulders hunched as if to ward off something bad.

Harry was the Boy Who Lived and with it came tremendous expectations from the sea of sycophants who he knew will turn their backs on him at their convenience.

The breeze blew again and Harry squinted as well and turned his eyes away. It just so happens that when he lifted his head, the first things that he saw were her eyes.

Fleur thinks for the hundredth time since meeting Harry that she has never seen a more beautiful and haunted green orbs as those on the Boy Who Lives. It was as if the eyes of an old man were transferred to his. They were very much like her Grand-père's who had seen the first war alongside the brutality and prejudice directed at his full-blooded Veela wife.

For a moment, his eyes widened before gentling as he took note of the hood over her head. Harry simultaneously sent a thought into her head as he turned back to the minister 'Sorry Fleur. Don't worry, I'll make it quick...'

She was momentarily struck dumb by the sent thought. Those of Veela ancestry, being not completely of wizard or human descent had one of the most iron clad mental shields in the world. To be able to break through such a barrier implied two things; first, Harry is especially gifted at mind magic and second, her magic or Veela instincts trusted him enough that she didn't label his sent thoughts as a threat.

Either way, the ease in which he did it, without needing to stare directly at her eyes were impressive.

Fleur smiled wryly, wondering when Harry would stop amazing her.

At eighteen, he stood at an average height with signs of broadening shoulders. Still, signs of malnourishment was evident in the sharp edges of those same shoulder blades and elbows. He was currently wearing the usual drab black robes that English wizards were so fond of. Matched with scruffy boots and unkempt jet black hair, Harry looked like the typical laconic librarians you see in stuffy rooms. The fact that he saved the world almost singlehandedly elevated his status a tad bit. But still, sartorially, the whole look can be improved.

Beside her, Fleur saw Hermione trembling. The girl was biting her lip but her eyes were as calm as can be gazing at Harry on the stage. Those brown orbs that looked so dull a minute ago were now shining brightly as if the light reflected in a calm sea.

As expected, it was now the red-headed's turn to look angrily at her.

Fleur thought it was cute the first few times and even agreed with the general Weasley consensus that Hermione and Ron were compatible. But looking at them now, she can't help but feel that maybe they were wrong.

Ron seemed happy and jealous at the same time as he saw his best friend get rewarded with material gifts and adoration from the crowd.

It must be hard being in a bigger shadow than your brothers.

Once the applause died down, they could see Harry turning to the crowd looking out shyly.

"Thank you. Thank you everyone for coming here. This was a pyrrhic victory for all of us and I hope to never see one again. I'm grateful to seeing all of you here and saddened to know that some of you are not here. I know that many of our friends, acquaintances, and even enemies..." Harry's voice carried to the farthest seats, the voice were those of a person coming into adulthood; deep but still contains some semblance of puberty.

The Boy Who Lived was young in form but so old in all other aspects.

"The wizarding world doesn't need another 'hero' nor should it want another hero...I hope to never see another hero in my lifetime or the next" Harry's speech tapered off at the end. And all the onlookers were quite flabbergasted by his implications.

Majority of the crowd twittered in aghast, galvanized at what was announced. Some were even speculating that it was a malapropism on Harry's part on the word to say 'hero.' Maybe he meant 'terror' or some other. were the whispered reactions. 'Or maybe he just wants all the fame to himself', were the more acidic reactions.

But of course, those close to him knew differently.

Mrs. Weasley was crying in earnest now, much to the embarrassment of her sons while Hermione was biting her lip so hard that it would have drawn blood.

Fleur, like the rest of the Weasley's knew differently.

Harry meant exactly what he said.

A savior or hero will only be declared as such once they've conquered something; rising through adversary and some such. To elevate someone to the hero status also requires something very dark. After all, sunlight seems always brighter and more beautiful during dawn... after nighttime.

The clap at the end was hesitant but those coming from the front rows were loudest. Because only those actively involved in the war could understand Harry's perspective. And even then, maybe not even in his level.

In fairytale stories, heroes were oftentimes made due to their experiences but it was rare to be born as one. Harry was one of those born heroes from infancy to adulthood.

One could say that his very birth should have been seen as an ominous premonition of dark days to come. After all, such a great person could only be born to a purpose.

...

The after party was boisterous with maudlin theatrics from drunkards sprawled around the field. Fleur sighed, keeping the hood forward and tight. This environment was dangerous for Veelas.

After all, it relaxes the men's compunction. And she wasn't looking forward to getting mauled in the eve of Harry's speech. Fleur wondered where Bill was. When she was bumped by some random man, she knew that it was time to go. She wasn't a fan of the stench of sweat combined with alcohol as well.

Walking fast to the edge of the crowd towards the portkey center. She was about to reach the clearing when someone suddenly spun her around.

Fleur was already reaching for her wand when she came face to face with the man of the day. Harry Potter.

"Leaving early?" He was leaning casually by one of the trees and staring disinterestedly at the debauchery happening. "...not that I blame you. This isn't my cup of tea as well"

"Zen what are you still doing 'ere?" Fleur asked bewildered. She lifted the hood off her head and breathed deeply. It was refreshing to not be cooped in it.

"I can't leave yet. Not when most of those out there are too drunk to defend themselves. I'm afraid that...ummm ça va chier des bulles?"

Fleur smiled, it's always a pleasure to hear her own language from someone else even though the accent was horrendous, "The war's been over a long while, 'Arry, you don't need to be this wary of a little fun"

"Sorry, can't help it"

"Hmmm, always the 'ero are you not, 'Arry Potter?"

"Never that, Fleur"

"But that iz what they call you, non?"

"Nah, I'm just simply Harry" At this, he spread his hands outward as if to demonstrate.

And he certainly looked like simple Harry from what she could see. Average height, drab clothes, and a lanky posture until you reach his face and you see the stubborn jaw and the dangerous glint that will always stay within those green depths; the only color evident in the dark.

For all the Gryffindor posturing, Harry Potter looked very much like a Slytherin in this light.

"Non, never simple 'Arry"

"Maybe that's the problem..."

"Is it so bad? To be regarded as special?" Fleur raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "Many would kill to be in your shoes"

"Oh, it does. Don't get me wrong. At first, it was great but after a while, it became tiring and you can never really live up to their expectations. More times than not, I'm hated"

"Then you should enjoy this celebration more now while it lasts..."

"Not sure about that, its better to lower expectations"

"That's a very sad way of looking at things, 'Arry"

"Why do you do that?" He straightened and Fleur belatedly realized that they were now the same height.

"What do you mean?"

"Call me by my full name all the time"

"Well, it iz your name, oui? Do you not like your name 'Arry Potter?"

"No, no, I like it. It's just weird, that's all"

"Is it?"

"Yes, because you mostly use my full name"

"Not as simply 'Arry, you mean?"

Harry nodded and gazed at her closely once again. Fleur has been subjected to many blatant admiring looks but Harry wasn't admiring her. He was simply looking at her in wonder.

As he tilted his head to the side with half of his face shrouded in darkness; she saw that he had the making of a beautiful profile.

"Come, let us talk more" Fleur gestured for him to go deeper in the forest.

"You're not planning on murdering me right?"

She laughed. "Non, I cannot murder my sister's savior after all that would only lead to badness on my part"

"What do you mean?"

"Veelas are still magical creatures, no matter how diluted their blood is. A veela will always be veela. And as such, we are more bound to magic than any creature practicing it. Any magical offense affects us tenfold."

"And so, what does that have to do with it?"

Fleur looked at Harry strangely. Did he not know about 'life debts'? "Do you not remember the second task, 'Arry?"

"The lake thing-"

She tutted and flipped her hair before explaining, "Yes, the 'lake thing' when you saved Garbrielle. When I kissed your cheek, it automatically translated into a life debt"

"So you're not only indebted to me but to Ron as well!? That's dangerous, Fleur!"

She was heartened to see his horror-filled expression, she'd be disgusted as well at the possibility. Fleur shook her head vehemently "Non, despite his claims, Ron was not the one who saved Gabrielle. It was you and my magic does not lie. It detected at once that my debt was to you" They've walked far enough that they reached the portkey station.

"But didn't you already assist me during the war? Surely, that negates the debt?"

"It doez not, magic works differently, 'Arry. It iz not equal"

"Hmmm" Harry taps his chin wonderingly and that's when Fleur noticed his long fingers, "How about I jump in the lake right now and you come save me? I promise not to move."

Fleur laughed until she noticed that he was actually serious, which in turn, made her laugh some more. "Do not worry about it, 'Arry. Someday, I will be able to repay you."

"But shouldn't the debt be Gabrielle's and not yours?"

She shook her head in negation yet again, "She was a minor at the time and I was responsible for her. Furthermore,the debt was not only that. Do you remember ze Astronomy Tower?"

"Yes, but you weren't there at the time. I only saw you afterwards"

"Non, I was there during ze latter part. I tried to stop Fenrir from attacking Bill and I turned my back on an enemy. You threw a spell at him, confuzing 'im enough zat the killing curz did not 'it me!"

Fleur saw him pause as if thinking about that moment. It was fresh in her mind but the fact that Harry had to think hard further proves how many lives he has actually saved. When the killing curse bounced on the wall, a few centimeters from her head. Her magic suddenly flared, quite reminiscent of the triwizard tournament. The magic signature that linked her debt was no doubt Harry's.

"Oh. I didn't know... ummm sorry about that... I mean about burdening you more" Harry almost looked embarrassed to being reminded of the event.

Fleur laughed again. It was like a conversation backwards, the hero apologizing for saving her life. "Why? It doez not matter. I am well az you can zee and will repay you fully one of zis days"

Harry stared at her for a long while before smiling somewhat mysteriously. "You might have a problem with that"

"Oh" A bit disoriented at his changed demeanor. "Why iz zat? Would you never need 'elp 'Arry?"

"Not the needing part but more of the proximity to me that'll be the problem"

"I... do not understand"

"Never you mind, just my sad attempt at being mysterious, hahaha" Harry's laugh seemed forced and for a moment, Fleur thought that he was tired of the conversation.

"You do not need zat, 'Arry" And its true, Fleur has never encountered a more byzantine person as Harry Potter. They should actually have a subject on this at magical schools; revealing the true Boy Who Lived. Even his past was mysterious. There were many speculations but the most popular was that Harry was raised in a mansion in a mysterious island being taught magic as he grew up. Cheesy but quite possible given his sudden boost in magical aptitude during the war. When she opened this to Bill during a rather bleak afternoon, he laughed and looked at her sadly saying that it was far from the truth. Bill never expounded on it though.

Fleur got distracted at her musings when Harry uttered, "But whatever happens, I've already written that debt off. Just wanted you to know that, Fleur"

"I do not underztand, 'Arry. What are you trying to say?" Fleur was getting a bit concerned at the direction of this conversation.

"Nothing... again, I'm just confusing you, heheh" He smiled but his gaze looked faraway "I'm just thinking way ahead of myself"

She nodded "It iz normal. You are now graduating from 'Ogwarts. It iz time to think of the future. Are you planning on becoming an Auror?" Everybody's been speculating on what the Boy Who Lived' career plans would be. It didn't help that Harry was a protean fighter, flyer, and even teacher. The options were endless for him. Not to mention that the Potter family was one of the oldest along with the Black's, both of which, he's now the heir to. And therefore, awarded two seats in Wizengamot.

Two ancient houses under the belt of the Boy Who Lived. The newspapers lapped it up and Witch Weekly even created an article for him post-war declaring Harry to be the most eligible bachelor of the century.

"Hmmm, not sure. I think there's more to life than fighting bad guys. And between you and me, I'm a bit tired of it" He said the last in a near conspiratorial whisper as if afraid that someone will hear him and make a big deal of it.

Given Harry's history with the press, Fleur wouldn't be surprised if it does end being blown up.

"By the way, I got your invitation. To the wedding, I mean" Harry's eyes smiled, Fleur noticed that he expressed more with those eyes than anything else "Best wishes, Bill is a great guy but if he does anything bad, I'm an owl away. Remember that"

"You sound az if you are leaving far away, 'Arry"

"Do I?"

"Oui"

"Hmmm, maybe I am... hahaha. Just joking..." The wry smile only further alerted Fleur.

"It doez not do to run. The war iz over, you can do what you've alwayz wanted, 'Arry."

"Do you really think that I'd be able to move that freely now?" He demanded. Those green eyes flashing hatefully and for a brief time, she was afraid.

Fleur doesn't know the answer to that so she remained silent. Harry is the Boy Who Lived and he was right to be wary because calls for the hero were coming in left and right at a fast speed. Each political faction vying for the Boy Who Lived' attention and support.

The war is over but that hardly meant peace in the Wizarding world. Now that the immediate danger (Voldemort) was done with, politicians are starting to make their move once again.

"From your silence, I'd assume that you don't know the answer to that either" Harry kept his hands inside his pockets sullenly, moving deeper in the shadows.

"You 'ave us to lean on."

"Hmmm" was the somewhat noncommittal reply.

"You understand zat right, 'Arry? You 'ave us, the Weasley's and the rest of ze Order" Fleur moved closer and touched his arm in support.

He smiled back at last, "I know"

They paused in awkward silence that Fleur almost started fidgeting. A sudden eruption startled both of them and they straightened up fast, instincts at hyper alert when they suddenly saw the shape of the lighting bolt scar and the simultaneous cheers from the drunken bunch.

"Idiots" Harry muttered underneath his breath. Fleur could only silently concur.

"I think I've delayed your escape enough. You were heading back to the Burrow, right?"

"Non, and you did not. I waz simply tired of ze entertainment" she nodded towards the rambunctious bunch "You more zan provided enough... and I am heading 'ome to France. Père et mère and Gabrielle mizzez me terribly and Ils me manquent (I miss them) as well"

"Oh. Say hi to Gabby for me"

"I will" Fleur smiled "Are you leaving now, 'Arry?"

Harry paused long and stared at her hard "Yes"

"Where to?"

"Back home as well"

...

Back then, Fleur thought that he was either going back to the Burrow or the Grimmauld Place.

She was wrong.

Harry never came to her wedding nor did he come the year after during Sirius' death anniversary or any of the Weasley birthdays.

In fact, Harry Potter did not return to England for five years.

...

End of Chapter 1