#fleur fluff

diving into the water, charm activated, fleur swam frantically with a fierce determination to find you. there was more to the appreciation and devastation she felt when it came to you, she just knew it.

she swam and swam against the water’s deep, intimidating blue pressure because one painfully real thing had become certain in those seconds. fleur liked you as more than a friend. that was how she knew without a doubt that you’d be the one waiting for her. something sped towards fleur in the distance and she squinted, eyes then widening.

grindylows.

her heart stopped suddenly through her strokes, overcome by terror. nothing could stop her, not when you needed her. she racked her brain for a counter, something that would fight off the creature. no, no, no, please, merlin, no. “y/n!” was the last thing fleur tried to cry out when one of the dreaded things made her vision fade and she sank, deeper and deeper.

when she awoke, fleur was surrounded by clamoring people. “let her breathe!” ginny shouted over their loud whispers, handing her a towel to dry off. the crowd around her settled down a bit, giving her space to process. “you ok, fleur? d’you need anything? viktor krum’s back with hermione and so is cedric with cho chang,” she quickly caught fleur up on the events of the second task. “both got here a little after you were brought up ─ and last i heard, harry found ron too.”

gathering her thoughts, the beauxbatons champion felt nowhere near what that title implied. damp blonde hair falling on her shoulders, fleur finally took a deep breath. she remembered what happened and gasped loudly, realising the situation. almost stumbling despite her usual grace, fleur jumped to her feet and frantically turned to madame maxine.

“y/n, i─i didn’t save her!” fleur choked out, trembling with horror. “i have to go back, i can’t let her die!” the professor reached out to grab her, opening her mouth to speak, but fleur was distracted by a rise in noise again.

“look, it’s harry and ron!” neville longbottom announced, cheering enthusiastically. he cranked his head as if to get a better look and gave everyone’s applause a burst of even more ecstasy. “he’s got y/n with him too!”

fleur’s heart gave a lept of happiness and she left her towel, running towards you, ron, and harry. she dropped to her knees, helping you up onto the safety of dry land. you took her hand, accidentally splashing water on her swimsuit and accepting the desperate embrace she gave you.

fleur clutched you, watering eyes pulling back to make deep eye contact with you. “i thought i lost you,” she laughed, planting a kiss to your forehead ─ you didn’t grasp the true feelings behind her small affection or even how terrified fleur was for you.

you simply blinked through your wet eyelashes and eyed her, “fleur, dumbledore... he wouldn’t have let students die for the task.” feeling like an idiot, she mentally facepalmed, cursing herself for being so stupid. of course not, that would be ridiculous. before she could say anything about it, you broke into a grin and cupped her shaking face. “but thank you for caring about me.”

there weren’t enough words to say just how much she cared right then, so fleur did the only thing that she could think of. she enveloped your lips with hers, pressing passionately like she’d wanted to since the day she fell for you. the crowd around you started to whoop and cheer, but you couldn’t care less about your audience, finding grasp in fleur’s long, soft hair and kissing her equally as deeply.

the faint taste of vanilla chapstick and soft sweetness of her tongue lingered when you separated, breaths mingling against each other’s shaky smiles. “i do care,” fleur nodded, intertwining her fingers with yours. gentle fingertips swirling on your skin, her trembling calmed. “i care so much, y/n.”

in the next few months, you were seen everywhere with fleur. no one could separate the two of you and to your surprising indifference, rita skeeter published an article about your relationship. despite living in bliss, you’ll admit that you’d been infuriated, of course, once you found out that horrid woman had tried to make fleur’s sexuality sound like it was a bad thing, but fleur told her off so firmly that muggleborns began to call her an “icon” amongst themselves.

now sitting in the mid-winter caps of snow, you sighed into the crook of her neck, smelling fleur’s perfume clearly. the both of you had left dinner early to spend alone time together and the french girl rubbed circles on your shoulder, feeling nothing but bliss with your arms tight around her waist. “mon amour,” fleur hummed. “i have something for you.”

planting a soft kiss to fleur’s neck and sucking just enough to leave a soft purple bruise, you smiled against the skin and smiled. “yea?” you poked her side, making her throw her head down, hair flying and obscuring your line of sight. “is it a faceful of pretty-smelling hair? that’s not a typical gift.” pink-cheeked, fleur laughed softly. she locked your hands the way you liked it, bringing it up to her lips and kissing.

“i never said it was a gift,” your hand was dropped and she pulled a piece of parchment out of her pocket, reading y/n in jet black cursive and stamped with a dark red heart. she grinned and waited excitedly for you to take it and see what was in inside. “go on, open it, chérie.”

“how’s your handwriting so nice─” you mumbled, opening the letter. ink sprawled out cursive threads of words to spell, be my date to the yule ball? you stared at it, completely in awe of how adorable it was. simple yet romantic, blobs of inked creatures charmed to dance around the border of the page. “is it weird that you still give me butterflies?”

“i have ‘em too, belle,” fleur laughed contently. “do you and your british butterflies have an answer for me?” you snorted, kissing her quickly and leaving her to chase the contact. “i’ll give you an answer and a real kiss,” you started to bargain. “if... if you can catch me!”

fleur was agape for a moment, but she ran after you, entertaining the immaturity. your heart raced and the cold air hit your face, fleur’s thick, playful calls carried in the wind. you slowed down, turning to catch a glimpse of your girlfriend before thumping into something.

“ow, what the fuck was that?” you pouted, looking for the source of your collision. which you regretted instantly ─ you’d smacked right into professor snape and judging by the scowl on face, he was not happy with you. hopefully, you thought, fleur wouldn’t catch up to you until he was gone. the last thing she needed was to be reprimanded.

“that,” snape brushed off his clothes with a such a dramatic snarl that you couldn't help but take a step back. “was me, miss l/n. care to tell me what you’re doing here instead of eating dinner with your... friends?”

crossing your arms, you looked straight into snape's black eyes. “all due respect, professor,” you said steadily, successfully hiding the anxiety he was giving you. “classes are over for the day and i’m not a first year. i don’t think it’s any of your business what i was doing.”

he glared at you, face crunching like it was looking for the foulest venom to spit at you. then soft, but excitable footsteps came behind you and you turned to see fleur had caught up to you. she looked between you and snape, eyeing the showdown and wondering what the hell could have caused so much tension in the minute you were alone. “monsieur snape.” fleur greeted politely.

“miss delacour,” snape scowled in return. “i was having a chat with your little girlfriend but it appears i’ve figured out who ─ pardon, what ─ l/n was doing.” your eyes widened, spotting the small hickey you’d given fleur underneath the tree. “i suggest making better use of your time.”

if it weren’t for fleur holding your hand and calming you as soon as he left, you probably would have let out a memorable string of curse words. “professor snape is very,” fleur searched for the word, chewing on her lip slightly. “dramatic, no?”

your irritation left like the head of slytherin had and you laughed, shaking your head. “you don’t know the half of it. i’ll bet he just hasn’t gotten laid in thirty years.” fleur bit down a laugh and corrected, “no, no, in however long it’s been since his birth.” snape’s head shot back suspiciously in the distance at your sudden giggles, but neither of you gave much a damn.

the quarrel was long forgotten and the two of you made your way to dinner, hand in hand.

when the yule ball came, you thought you’d ascended to heaven. disregarding fleur’s veela blood, you wondered if it was possible for a human to be so beautiful. her hair tied back in a sleek, side parted bun absolutely shone and her ethereal black dress contrasted it perfectly while managing to accentuate her body’s perfection.

“you look angelic.” fleur blushed effortlessly at your compliment. she took your hand, intertwining the fingers like pieces made to put together, and brought it to her lips. she kissed softly, causing a hurricane of butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

“thank you,” she smiled, apples of her cheeks so, so bright. “you look gorgeous, douceur.” eyes followed you enviously and adoringly as you and fleur made your way down to the center of the ballroom, where the hogwarts champions would share a dance with their dates.

fleur knew what she was doing, leading your anxious steps. she swayed gracefully, twirling like a ballerina. you soon melted into the dance and forgot the world around you. you stared into fleur's cerulean eyes, wondering how a crush on the beauxbatons champion turned into the deepest love you'd ever felt. you were so captivated by fleur that you didn’t realise the dance had ended until applause surrounded you.

“someone has got to do something about those idiots,” you groaned, finishing a shot and seeing ginny and harry stare at each other from across the room. neville had left early when he couldn’t handle his alcohol and harry’s date, parvati patil, had found herself snogging lavender brown after harry paid no mind to her all night. “they clearly like each other, what the hell are they waiting for?”

fleur agreed hastily, shaking her head at the two. your actions were exaggerated by your tipsy states, courtesy of the fire whiskey that had been passed around that evening. “ange, i think we need to matchmake our gryffindor friends.”

with the confidence from the alcohol and the feeling of being on the clouds when you were around fleur, you walked up to harry and fleur to ginny. “harry bloody potter,” you started, words slurring together. “what the fuck are you doing?”

harry looked at you wide-eyed. “y/n, are you drunk? what are you on about?” his demeanor changed after stealing a glance at ginny and he looked at you once more. “can i have some of whatever’s got you tossed?” you nodded, grinning.

“‘course! go and get wasted with ginny, then maybe you can kiss her instead of eye-fucking her.” harry stared at you like you had three heads, but his cheeks went red with obviousness. “fred and george have fire whiskey and gigglewater, go take a shot and grow some balls!”

pleased with yourself and seeing fleur finishing up with ginny, you walked out of the ball ─ but not before beaming sloppily at the sight of harry making his way to ginny.

“we did a good job,” fleur announced at your side, eliciting a nod from you. a toothy grin met you from harry and a smirk from ginny did too, which you obliviously didn’t realise was the ingrained memory of your drunk matchmaking with fleur. “since our work here is done, would the prettiest girl at the ball like to see the stars with me?”

this is love, you thought. every swoon when she spoke, every giggle while she ran out of the ball, and every butterfly when her fingers met yours. this is love, fleur thought too. she felt the same swoon when you spoke, your tipsy giggles were heaven, and you infected her with swarms of butterflies when she took your hand.

“you’re so pretty,” you slurred in the grass, stroking fleur's hair. the feeling in your stomach was so good and so nauseating, fueled by fleur’s laughter.

“you’re prettier,” fleur chirped back. “i’ve never had someone i can feel so free with, y/n. you're my one.” she stroked your cheek, gigglewater sweet on her breath.

“my one what?” you kissed her gently, moaning softly when her tongue hit the tip of yours. it was so clear to fleur. her one reason, her one love, her one purpose. her one, of course. but due to her intoxicated state, the blonde forgot to let the words out of her mouth.

when she didn’t answer, you sighed. “i gotta tell you something fleur,” you whispered. “i can tell you, can’t i?” she kissed you on the tip of the nose, sending heat to the spot.

“you can tell me anything.”

your heart would have been thumping without the alcohol running through your system, but instead you were calm. you knew this was right, you knew you should tell her.

“i love you, fleur.”

fleur’s lips curled into a smile. the moonlight had never hit her hair or her eyes this beautifully. she thought of the day you met. then the first sleepover. the first hogsmeade trip. the day her name was pulled out of the goblet, the day of the first task, and the day of the second. that first kiss, the best taste of her life. the dates, the naps, the hand-holding.

now, the first i love you.

“i love you too, y/n.”

bursting into more giggles, fleur cupped your face and kissed you deeply. her touch became more and more impassioned and she left you gasping for air while she smiled against your lips, yule makeup wrecked. cuddling into her side, fleur held you without another word. you looked up at the night sky, stars sparkling stunningly next to the white crescent moon.

fleur knew. without you being hers, she would still be that scared, done-up girl. without her one, fleur delacour wouldn’t know how to love.