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Defrost

Chapter 17

Notes:

Hello people and welcome to part 17; we're gettin' real close to the end now! At least, for a time - thanks for hoppin' along for the ride!

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Chapter Text

Nearly two whole hours later from the time the pair had arrived, and with the moon high in the sky above, they exited the doors of the still-open restaurant hand-in-hand. Each of them were full-up, satisfied and very slow in the speed of their walk as they descended the stairs that led to the doorway. 

 

As they grew further away from the majestic and woodland-styled restaurant, a thought came to Harry; one of a new tradition they could start together.

 

“Reckon we’ll have to come back here again before I go back to the UK,” Harry said a second prior to taking one last lingering look over his shoulder as he and Gabby walked away from what had certainly become his favourite eatery. 

 

“We weel! Fleur ‘as a love for eet almost as strong as mine, and Mama and Papa are fond of eet too. Eet ees not every restaurant zat ees able to make a Veela feel at ‘ome,” Gabby started swinging their hands just as she’d done earlier once she’d finished speaking, but this time, she didn’t begin to skip. “We weel ‘ave to come ‘ere over Yule too. Ze seasons breeng deef’erent menus.” 

 

“I’ll fly you whenever you’d like.” Harry took in a deep breath, and with the arm that wasn’t occupied by Gabby, stretched. The warm night’s air, the bright light from the moon above and the scent of flowers he could seldom see made him wish the walk would take a good deal longer. 

 

But that wasn’t the case. They were nary two dozen metres from where they’d landed, and from where Gabrielle had wished to take off together; he could tell by the luminescent Flora that was all the more prominent given the dim lighting. 

 

“And eef I asked every day?”

 

He shrugged. “Suppose I’d just have to go and take you there then, wouldn’t I?” 

 

That got him a wide, dimple-heavy smile, and right as they passed under the archway that saw them into the miniature park-like space. He’d always admired anywhere that had an abundance of well-taken care of nature, but something about the glowing and moving plants the Magical world had outdid the Muggle locations; it was just too unfair a comparison to make. 

 

“Would you ‘elp me weez ze back?” Gabby slipped her hand from his, and darted in-front of him, resting that same hand against his chest so as to get him to stop. Once she had him stopped, she did a twirl and fell backwards. 

 

Naturally, Harry’s arms wrapped right around her to keep her from falling, and he was greeted with a series of giggles. There was the occasional snort too, despite Gabby’s best efforts to hide them; he always liked how bright her blush would be and how she’d try to hide her face when those snorts were especially loud. It was adorably endearing. 

 

After her little fun, when she started to support herself again instead of making Harry hold her up, she started to rock on the balls of her feet before him. Clearly, there was an eagerness that’d started to take her out of the food-coma state she’d been in alongside him. 

 

“Careful, yeah?” Harry asked as one hand went to the zipper, and the other wrapped around her waist to keep her steady. 

 

Gabby looked over her shoulder at him and gave a myriad of nods, an eager happiness about her. “Very! A Veela ‘as strong weengs, but zey are ‘ow to say… sens’eeteve?” 

 

“Sensitive. Right,” Harry wasn’t sure why, but he felt nervous all of a sudden. 

 

He pushed the feeling down, squashing it as the hand on the zipper pulled downwards and the tell-tale sound of it opening broke through the noises of nature that surrounded them. Done with that one, she very quickly urged him to do the next, and so he did. 

 

“Do—” 

 

Gabby turned right around and wrapped her arms around him in a hug, forcing the air from his lungs and cutting him off short. He wasn’t sure what prompted it, but when she pulled back, she smiled up at him. “You ‘ave seen a Veela een ‘er full form, yes?” 

 

“Yeah, at the World Cup,” Harry found her overlayer passed off into his arms as he gave his answer. He cocked his head, curious, as he watched her move a few more feet away from him. “About to…?” 

 

“Yes,” Gabby dipped her head, and turned her back on him. “Eef you see my weengs get stuck, just geev zem a gentle pull, yes?” 

 

Harry unshrunk the broom and leaned it against the nearby tree in preparation for their flight, and then, he took one half-step toward her. “Gentle pull. Easy.” 

 

He thought she’d have responded first, or given a word of warning that she’d begun her transformation, but it seemed she wanted to surprise him even if he knew what was coming; that would explain the sudden surge of feathers that started to manifest across her skin, and why her head began to noticeably change shape. 

 

Naturally, the most obvious and visible change to Harry, even more so than the feathers and her head, were the little wings that started to grow from the bare skin of her back. That was where his eyes had been focused on, and even as the other alterations took place, he couldn’t help but watch, slack jawed, as they grew before his very eyes. 

 

When he noticed one pop through sans any interference, he very nearly reached out a hand so as to stroke the soft-looking feathers thereon. Their whiteness surprised him nearly as much as their size, and as he looked towards the base of that first wing, again, he nearly couldn’t help himself; there were hundreds of tiny feathers unlike those of her wings or even those of her shoulders. 

 

He could only imagine how they felt. 

 

“Ah,” Gabby’s voice sounded distorted, and when she looked over her shoulder at him, he could see the same, vicious-looking beak the Veela at the World Cup had possessed. Unlike the cruelness they’d worn, her visage, whilst altered, was still the cute and sweet girl he’d come to know. “Could you ‘elp ze ozzer? Eet ‘as decided to be a problem.” 

 

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry. Caught me off guard.” Harry looked away from her face — one that was still very Gabby-like in his estimations — and towards her back again. He saw what she was talking about easily enough. The top, pointy part of her other wing had gotten snagged by her shirt. With quick and dexterous hands honed by Quidditch, he pulled the fabric away and saw her captive wing freed. 

 

Before he could so much as open his mouth to say as much, the wing jolted, and then extended in-tandem with the other. Harry took a cautious step back when her wings extended to their full length, and as he did so, he looked on in awe; she was, to quote a word he’d heard quite often from his favourite Frenchies, magnificent. 

 

She turned towards him with her wings still extended, and fixed him with as good a smile as he reckoned a person with a beak could give. 

 

“Merlin.” Harry blinked at her now that she was facing him head-on, rather than only giving him a partial view of her back. 

 

Gabby cocked her head upon hearing him speak. “Zat ees good?” As before, her voice sounded distorted, garbled, almost, but it still possessed a sort of reflection of that of her human form. 

 

“Certainly not bad. You still look like you,” Harry took a few steps closer, and as he did so, her wings seemed to wrap around him. “Can I?” He gave a nod towards one of those wings as it grew nearer and nearer. 

 

She didn’t answer him by way of words, but rather, she brought her left wing closer still whilst the right stopped its approach. With a hand — one that was now clawed — she took hold of one of his own with much care, and brought it towards the offered wing. 

 

As soon as the tip of his fingers came into contact with the feathers of her wing, she dropped her hand, letting him continue. He swore she all but preened as he ran his hand as gently and slowly as he could down to the very bottom; the occasional twitches made him worried, but she hadn’t pulled away or made any displeasure known. 

 

With a brain that felt melted, he said aloud what he thought. “Soft.” It wasn’t much of a description, and it certainly didn’t do justice to her wings, but it was spot-on. 

 

He heard a harsher sound than Gabby had ever made before, but her visage made it seem like laughter, or as close to laughter as she could get in her avian form. 

 

“I weesh I was older,” Gabby’s garbled voice broke him from his seemingly charmed state. “I would ‘ave loved to carry you een ze sky and fly you as you flew me.” She took a few steps back and, with a wink, started to flap her wings. 

 

Immediately, he had to bring his hands up to cover his face to prevent debris from the ground from getting into his eyes as her flapping kicked them up. A second later, and a good few steps further away from her as she slowly began to rise saw him raise a shield so as to watch unimpeded. 

 

Able to do just that, he observed how those great wings of hers flapped mightily, and saw her higher and higher above him in the night sky. Her gaze stayed focused on him the entire time, just as his was solely on her; with the night sky at her back and the form she’d taken, he reckoned this was when she’d looked most divine in nature. 

 

“Weel you come up weez me, or are you ‘appy on ze ground?” Gabby began to do slow, almost lazy circles around him then, her wings spread wide as she did so — her attention, however, remained on him. She didn’t seem to have to look around given the openness of the space around them. 

 

He could see why she’d been pleased with this spot. 

 

Harry extended a hand to the broom and saw it pulled towards him. Within the span of a second, he was in the air and level with her; Gabby didn’t stop doing tight circles around him. 

 

“Fancy a race?” Harry couldn’t help himself. 

 

There was an almost offended-sounding screech that came before her words. “I weel race you when you grow weengs.” 

 

“Sometime in the future then,” Harry said with a grin, before he took a deep breath as he settled in the seat of the broom. 

 

With her simply coasting in circles around him as the scents of the garden assailed him and the nightlight shined down, he reckoned he’d gone and found himself a slice of heaven. 

 


 

The flight back — which had taken twice as long to get back as it had to arrive — was peaceful and scenic, and full of laughter. Gabby had flown circles around him, gone above or below him, swooped down from high above and shot up from low below; anything to show off her abilities. 

 

He had to admit, in that regard, she was pretty successful. If her wings had been able to go as fast as his broom, she might just out race him. 

 

Harry cast a look her way as they passed over the water. Those wings of hers were stretched out wide, nearly unmoving as she coasted beside him whilst her gaze alternated between the lawn they’d land on and him atop his broom. She seemed in her element, beyond pleased… if he were to try and guess the expression her avian form wore. 

 

“Land togezzer?” Gabby cocked her head as she awaited his response; it was odd to see whilst she was flying. 

 

“How else am I supposed to carry you back to your room?” 

 

That response elicited a screech-like laughter, and then she flapped her wings to propel herself forward. Harry grinned, tightened the hold he had over the broom, and followed suit. What followed was a very short-lasting race that saw the pair streak towards the soft green grass near the back porch. Each pulled up near to the final few seconds that they could, but Gabby had to do so first; wings, as it turned out, didn’t function quite the same as a broom. 

 

He carefully leaned the broom against a nearby pillar, and looked her way as he stretched his arms over his head. Nearly three seconds or so after his landing, she swooped in behind him — right behind him. Close enough that one of her wings wrapped around him as soon as her feet were on the ground. 

 

“You went too fast, eet ees unfair to zose of us weez weengs,” Gabby then flapped her wings a few times, and ended up atop him. He could feel her clawed hands find purchase atop his shoulders and her legs wrap around his waist all the while she used her wings until she had a firm hold. Then the flapping stopped, as did the little pricks he felt where her talons only just pressed into him. When she spoke afterwards, perhaps a second or so later, her voice sounded normal. “I am ready — to Fleur’s bedroom!” 

 

Harry snickered and cranked his neck so he could see her as he started them forward; her feathers were gone, and her face was back to that of her human form. He was rather curious how that worked, but he was content to send her a smile and bother her about it on the morrow. 

 

“Ah, stop,” He felt her fingers tap incessantly at his chest, and just above where her talons had rested; he was right happy she’d switched forms beforehand. “Zere ees one last zeeng zat must be done before we go back to Fleur.” 

 

He slowly came to a stop, her prodding making him do so as it continued without pause. “Yeah? What’s that?” 

 

“Turn your ‘ead and I can show you. I demand eet.” 

 

That made him snort, but he complied, curious as to what she had in mind. When he did so not a second later, he saw that her face was an inch away from his, if that… so naturally, he blinked at her. “Hi.” 

 

Gabby grinned, those ever-prominent dimples just that, and then she darted forward. He felt the little peck on his lips before he could register it, but by then, that fleeting little kiss was over with, and her blushing face turned away to rest against his back. 

 

“Ze proper way to end ze date, no?” Her voice was partially muffled. “Eet ees anozzer Ancient Veela Tradee’tion.” 

 

Of course it was. 

 

Harry snickered silently as he turned back to look where they were going lest he walk them into some statue or piece of furniture. 

 

After a few seconds had passed, his curiosity got the better of him. “So?” He asked after he saw them through the glass door. “How’d I do?” 

 

He could hear the smile when she responded. “Eet ees ze best date I ‘ave ever ‘ad.” 

 

The cheeky response drew a laugh from him. One which she shared as he took a turn and started towards the stairs. “Suppose I’ll have to outdo it one of these days — maybe back in the UK, where I can speak with everybody. It’d be nice to take you and Fleur around the country.” 

 

“Zat would be fun. I ‘ave wanted to see ze far norz of ze country after I saw peectures of eet.” Gabby shimmied upwards, her body shifting against his back and her legs moving up a smidge. When he felt her head rest atop his own, he reckoned he understood what she’d been trying to do. “Ze only problem would be ze lack of sun. You would ‘ave to stay between me and Fleur as our warmer.” 

 

Harry doubted that’d be a problem. Even here, in the heat of France, Fleur was still all over him. 

 

“Easy enough, I’d say.” As he began to climb the steps, he brought his hands around to rest on the underside of her hips; he didn’t want her falling off his back. “Fancy another slice of…” 

 

“Tarte bourdaloue.” Gabby offered helpfully, and with a giggle as he continued. 

 

That , when we’re in Fleur’s room?” 

 

Gabby made a noise of contemplation, as if she was debating it — then an eager-sounding answer came. “Yes.” 

 

Some few seconds later when he was up and near Fleur's door, Gabby had taken the pie out from his pocket, unshrunk it, and had it floating right over her shoulder. 

 

Harry knocked on the door after his little look her way, and opened his mouth so as to announce their return. 

 

But Gabby seized the initiative and spoke before him. “Fleur~,” She called, loud and drawn out. “I ‘ave brought back our ‘Arry!” 

 

In an instant, and with his mouth still ajar, the door was opened. Fleur wasn’t by it, but she was still visible laying atop her bed with a book in one hand and the other outstretched towards them with her wand therein. 

 

“You ‘ave brought a geeft too, seester?” Fleur’s eyes flickered past them, to the sweet treat. Her eyes very quickly returned to Harry. “And ‘e does not seem to be any worse for wear — I ‘ad zought you would scratch ‘eem or burn ‘eem.” 

 

Gabby climbed down him, her hands and legs manoeuvring all about him in the process. When she was finished and standing beside him, she looked him over, and then, she turned her attention to Fleur with a noticeable pout on her face. “I wouldn’t burn ‘Arry, I ‘ave better control zan last year.” 

 

“Papa weel just ‘ave to take your word for eet.” 

 

The two stared at one another as Fleur’s words lingered, and then, in response… Gabby stuck out her tongue, and blew. When she did that, Fleur lost her look of faux disbelief and laughed, gesturing the pair in as she swung her legs to the side of the bed so as to sit up. 

 

“Zank you, Fleur,” Gabby jumped at her sister when she was close enough, wrapping the older girl up in a hug whilst she perched atop her lap. “Ze place was perfect, and ‘Arry was ze best boy a weetch could ask for, even eef he cheated when we landed.” 

 

“Ah,” Fleur looked his way as she wrapped her arms around Gabby to return the hug. “I weel ‘ave to take to ze sky and beat ‘eem for you zen, no?” 

 

Gabby gave a nod as she rose up from her spot atop Fleur and flopped to bed beside her. She rolled when she landed, coming to rest laying on her back with her head in Fleur’s lap. 

 

“Ze tarte, ‘Arry?” 

 

Before he could make to serve it on some conjured plates for the three of them, Fleur leaned forward and pulled him to her free side. “Zat can be done een a moment, seester,” She said whilst doing so. “I would ‘ave a moment weez ‘eem — eet ‘as been too long.” 

 

Gabby pouted, but remained silent as Fleur lowered a hand to massage her scalp whilst the other kept him close. 

 

When she started doing the same to his head a few seconds later, he reckoned it was a perfect end to the night. 

 


 

Harry woke to an unfamiliar happening; he was alone in bed, sans either of his cuddle bugs. 

 

He brought his hands to his eyes and rubbed the sleep that remained, and then he pushed himself up, to where his back rested against the cushioned headboard. It was then he heard a bit of noise not too far from the bed, and when he looked that way, he saw two shapes that looked almost identical. 

 

That prompted him to reach for his glasses, and when he donned them, Merlin. 

 

Words could describe the sight before him, but they’d never be good enough. 

 

“Fleur? Gabby?” His eyes drifted between the two in disbelief. “Wh—”

 

When the pair noticed that he was awake, he heard hushed French — that spoke of him — before they very quickly moved towards the edge of the bed. Once they’d reached it, they each gave him a curtsey, pulling on the little frilly skirt they wore with matching, winning smiles on their faces. 

 

“‘Appy Beerzday, ‘Arry!” The pair said in-sync with one another; Fleur maintained that winning smile as his eyes roamed them, whilst Gabrielle blushed, and partially moved behind her big sister. 

 

The former spoke again whilst he was simply peering at them, shocked silent. 

 

“We ‘ad zought seence eet ees your beerzday, zat we would be your French maids,” She gestured down at herself and did a little wiggle, the outfit hugged her far tighter than it did Gabrielle, and it certainly showed far more skin, particularly of her thighs or cleavage. “Ees zere anyzeeng you would ‘ave us do, master?” 

 

Harry blinked. “Master?” That was the first word he’d been able to utter, and really, all he’d done was parrot it back at her. “Merlin’s beard.” As one might expect, his eyes continued to bounce between the beautiful sight filling his vision. 

 

Gabby, who was still partially behind Fleur, giggled and looked up at her sister. “I ‘ave not seen ‘eem zees speechless for a long time.” 

 

“Seence ze early days we met, yes,” Fleur agreed readily, before she crawled stop the bed and slithered towards him. He imagined she knew what she was doing based on how forward she was leaning; the little smirk she wore… with a blush , told him as much. “Breakfast ees ready. Would you ‘ave a baz before, or do you want to eat, my ‘Arry?” 

 

“You made eet sound as eef we want to eat ‘eem.” Gabby, now without a Fleur to hide behind, said. Her words making Harry look her way, whereupon his eyes finding hers, she looked down demurely with her cheeks a bright pink. 

 

“I zeenk ‘Arry knows what I meant,” Fleur stopped crawling once she was right beside him. Once there, she sat back atop her feet, and pulled him towards her. Harry didn’t resist as he fell against her front, and her softness enveloped him. “Maybe a beet of a massage to start ze day?” 

 

Her voice was just above a whisper, and she spoke as her hands began to softly knead his shoulders. Harry, with a mind that still had that lingering fog from being freshly awoken, was sorely tempted to fall asleep to her efforts — the scent of her hair and perfume nearly did him in when it joined to the other sensations. 

 

But thankfully, Gabby spoke up, shaking him free of the siren’s song that was sleep. “Seence eet ees your beerzday, ‘Arry, Fleur ‘as to do whatever you say,” Her tonerife with teasing. “Anozzer tradee’tion for ze partner of a Veela.” 

 

Harry felt Fleur shift, and her hands momentarily halted before they returned to their massage duties. “Zat ees too bold of you, Gabby. ‘E ees your master too, no? Why am I ze only one to geev ‘eem ze care ‘e ees owed?” 

 

While Gabby sputtered in response, Harry chose, reluctantly, to rise from his spot against Fleur. When he did so, he could see that her face matched her sister’s; flushed and with that flush spreading downwards, towards her neck. 

 

It wasn’t like Fleur to be embarrassed. Not when he’d seen her starkers, not when she’d insist they’d have physical contact throughout most of the day, and not when she’d shower him with affection that he was all too eager to receive. 

 

“I am awake, yeah?” Harry blinked as he looked between the two. Close as they were to him, and flushed a pretty pink on account of their clothing and the words they’d traded, well, it just couldn’t be real. So he pinched himself. 

 

Fleur made a noise of objection then, and pulled him close. His face ended up pressed into her chest from her doing so, and before any word could be said, she’d taken the arm he’d pinched and raised the little red mark to her lips. 

 

Soft and full, they pressed against the mark whereupon doing so, she made an audible kiss sound. She pulled away, leaving behind a little lingering sense of wetness, and then lowered her eyes from the mark to his own. “You are very awake,” With the hand that’d pulled his arm towards her lips, she made to pull up the little top of her maid outfit; it barely moved, and her flush continued to worsen. 

 

Naturally, Harry’s eyes fell to the outfits as he, again, looked between the sisters. Gabby looked quite cute, if also a touch bit provocative; it was a French maid outfit, after all. But Merlin, it was very clear that Fleur was wearing an outfit the same size as her sister. He’d noticed it earlier, and he’d continue to. 

 

And to think Gabby had grown in the time they’d met one another. 

 

“You ‘ave finally mesmorised ‘eem, Fleur,” Gabby’s voice had a giggle in it. 

 

“Eet ees because of ze outfeet,” Fleur pulled on it again, that flush only growing as Harry stared at her and Gabrielle made mention of that gaze of his. “Eet ees smaller zan I ‘ad zought eet would be — you said you ‘ad grown.” 

 

Gabby pouted, but didn’t pluck at the outfit as Fleur did. Instead, she looked down again, trying to hide the blush that began to flare up again upon hearing Fleur’s words. With her eyes on the ground, she did say what all three already knew. “I ‘ave!” 

 

That made Harry snicker, and when he did, Fleur looked down and arched a brow at him… then she looked away. With her cheeks as red as Gabby’s, Harry reckoned he’d be able to have quite a bit of fun. 

 

“Gabby, ‘elp our ‘Arry up. Eef you don’t, ‘e weel never leave ze bed,” Fleur said that whilst maintaining her look elsewhere, but even then, he could hear how flustered she was by the hitch in her words. 

 

Again, he wondered if it was the outfit she wore or the words, or something else entirely; the mind of a witch was hard to understand despite all the time he’d spent with them. 

 

Gabrielle swallowed and moved closer, beginning to partially climb atop the bed so she could do as Fleur had asked. Harry didn’t know what specifically happened next, but he heard an ‘eep’ from her not a second after she’d swung a leg atop the bed and then, a thud. 

 

Whatever profanity she’d uttered was drowned out by Fleur’s laughter as Harry — with much willpower — managed to extract himself from Fleur. 

 

“Gabby?” Harry called to her as he crawled towards where he’d felt her climb, and halfway there, she popped up from the ground; one hand fixing her hair while the other held down the skirt. 

 

Fleur followed after him, and pulling at her outfit, pushed herself against his back once more. “Gabby?” She echoed him, but in her voice was a teasing lilt. “Eet ees not only me zat ‘as to do as ‘Arry says and answer when ‘e calls. ‘E ees your master for ze day as well.” 

 

The younger girl blew the errant strands of hair from her view as they fell therein, and stood tall with her hands on her hips. “Yes, e— and?” She grabbed one of Harry’s hands, and pulled him close, causing Fleur to wrap her arms around him lest she fall forward, and squeak as the fabric of her outfit pulled downwards. “I am ready to do what ‘Arry wants.” 

 

Usually, Fleur would’ve teased the little fall she’d had earlier, but she herself seemed far too flustered and busy adjusting — the outfit kept needing her to pull it one way or the other, and when she’d do so, the problem would simply switch ends. 

 

“Is that tea?” Harry’s eyes had drifted past the view that Gabrielle made for… after taking notice of how the outfit the pair wore was supposed to fit. In doing so, he once again confirmed she was right in saying she’d grown. 

 

“Ou—” Gabby huffed, and stomped her foot. With the French lessons he’d started taking with the pair, it was all too easy for her to slip into her native tongue.  “Yes, eet ees. We ‘ad eet made and kept warm unteel you woke. I could pour you a cup eef zat ees what you want—” Her eyes switched from looking at Harry, to Fleur. “—Your ozzer maid ees too ‘appy to say een ze nest weez you.” 

 

Harry had fixed her with a smile when she’d offered to pour him a cup, and then he’d snickered at the word ‘nest’. The occasional bird joke would always be funny, especially if it were one of them that made it. “Thanks, Gabby,” He turned his attention back to Fleur, who’d gone suspiciously quiet and motionless; he’d already grown rather accustomed to her pulling at the outfit. 

 

Her face was hidden partially behind one hand, but even then, he could see how pink she’d gotten through the cracks between her fingers. Harry’s eyes went lower when she shifted, and then his eyes went wide. 

 

That short skirt had ridden further up, enough so that he could make out her underwear. The little thin fabric was black and lacey. Harry blinked as he drank in the details. For some reason, it felt different than seeing her starkers when she’d change or bathe — he couldn't describe how, but it was. 

 

“... -ea, ‘Arry?” Faintly, his ears registered Gabrielle. 

 

Fleur squeaked and shifted, and at the same time she did so, Gabby turned his face with one soft, cool hand. When his eyes took her in after the sight he’d just seen, he grinned. 

 

Gabby, however, cocked her head just like she’d done when she’d been in her Veela form. With her hand still gently cupping his face, she spoke, but the words weren’t meant for him. “You ‘ave broken ‘eem already. Eet ees only ze start of ze day,” The next words she spoke were for him, and they were said as she leaned forward — more than she needed to — to press a cup of tea into one of his hands. “Your tea, as you ‘ad asked. Ees zere any ozzer order you would ‘ave for us, ‘Arry?” 

 

The heat of the cup she’d pressed into his hand helped to ground him, and so he swallowed as his thoughts returned. “Suppose you could… tidy up, yeah? Like maids usually do.” 

 

“Zat sounds fun!” Gabby leaned back, rocking on the balls of her feet and taking away the view she’d given him. As before, her eyes darted to her sister, then back to Harry to wink, and again, back to her sister. “You were eager to ‘ave me ‘elp seester, where ‘as zat energy gone? Come, come, ‘e wants to watch us clean!” 

 

Harry took a sip of his tea as Gabby hopped atop the bed with all the agility he’d come to expect from her after her flight; she’d been majestic, and despite what some might say about a Veela’s other form, beautiful as ever. 

 

When the warmness and flavour of the tea was savoured, the mug raised to his lips, the show began. 

 

That being Gabby wrestling an embarrassed, flushed red Fleur from the bed so that they could start their first task of the day. 

 

Thank Merlin for that too. It gave him a moment to think about what else he could have them do… and maybe it gave him a chance to collect himself too. 

 

At least until another wardrobe malfunction occurred. 

 


 

Nearly thirty minutes later, and after a second cup of tea had been served by the ever-smiling and happy Gabby, the pair had finished tidying up. During their doing so, neither had missed the chance to tease him a myriad of times, but much to his surprise, it was Gabrielle that was bolder and more frequent, and Fleur that was shier, almost demure; he swore he’d never seen her so red either. 

 

Not even in the bath back at Hogwarts. 

 

“Do you need to be dusted as well, ‘Arry?” Gabby waved the little duster she’d sprouted from the tip of her wand at him, and cocked a hip to one side. 

 

Fleur, for her part, stood not too far from her little sister. She’d not modified the dress to fit better, but that didn’t mean she’d stopped fidgeting with it after every few steps she took. Towards the end, after she’d caught him staring whilst she’d been on the tips of her toes, she’d gone so far as to use Gabby as a partial shield until her redness decreased. 

 

The shift in the usual power dynamic betwixt them was refreshing, and it emboldened Harry with every passing minute.

 

“Think I’m good for now,” Harry gave a nod of his head to the pair. “Fancy breakfast now? Reckon you’ve tidied the place up well enough.” 

 

Gabby gave a pout. “You are sure? Zere ees more we co—” 

 

Fleur cut off her sister at the same time she reached her. “Eef ‘e wants to eat, we weel ‘ave ze food brought ‘ere as we dee’scussed, and eet can be you zat feeds ‘eem,” She put one hand on either of Gabby’s shoulders, and all but offered Gabby up to him as she marched them towards the bed Harry was still lounging atop. 

 

In the span of a few seconds, Gabby, giggling, was pushed atop the bed with force enough to send her into Harry’s side. There, she peered at him from behind messy hair with one of the most sincere and precious smiles on her face; the dimples made her all the more endearing. 

 

“I am to feed you, as Fleur said,” She proudly announced.. And then she leaned in to whisper. As she spoke, close as she was, her lips moved against his ear and her cool breath splashed down his neck. “Fleur ees so shy today, no? Eet ees boz of us zat ‘ave to do as you say…” 

 

Harry swallowed as she pulled away and called out — in French — to one of the house elves of Delacour Chateau. Whilst she spoke quick as could be and in an enchanting, flowing manner, he looked Fleur’s way once more. 

 

The black, frilly and thin fabric of her underwear was visible on account of the outfit’s pulled-up position. There were little bits that hung, brushing against her whenever she moved and under his attention, those pieces seemed to bother her to no end — she’d swipe or blow them away, occasionally squirming as that blush deepened or receded, but it never vanished. 

 

Not since he’d seen her when first he’d woken. 

 

“Fleur?” Harry raised the arm that wasn’t pinned by the pleased, rapid-speaking Gabby. “You don’t want to cuddle while we wait for breakfast?” He knew that’d get her. It’d never failed before.

 

“We can,” Her answer was soft spoken, and when she sought out his side, she did so quickly. 

 

Harry wrapped the arm around her and sighed as the pair sat on either side of him. Of her own volition, Fleur turned him away from her, and as she’d done before, pulled him into her front — her hands sought out his hair right when the house-elf reappeared with a myriad of platters. 

 

Gabrielle gave thanks, and plucked the nearest fruit-platter. One soft hand gently raised his head as she wiggled against him, and the other brought a strawberry with the stem pre-removed to his mouth. 

 

“Say, ‘ah’, ‘Arry~” Gabby sang, the note carrying with it a natural beauty. 

 

He did as she asked, and when she fed him the fruit, she did so with a pleased little giggle… and then she looked towards Fleur as her look turned devious. 

 


 

Thank Merlin. 

 

Such were the thoughts Harry possessed when he was out in the centre of the mystifying garden, seated under an umbrella and whilst his two scantily clad French maids hand fed him. One might think they were for where he currently found himself, but that person would be wrong — no, he was thankful that their parents hadn’t seen them. 

 

He wasn’t sure if it was planned, or if it’d simply worked out… but he supposed he couldn’t complain. 

 

Not when Fleur lowered a grape into his mouth and brushed a finger across his bottom lip. Certainly not when she flushed and looked away whilst trying to maintain some air of maid ‘professionalism’ when his gaze travelled a smidge lower. 

 

“Would you ‘ave us sweem weez you,” Gabby asked whilst she plucked a little slice of cheese from the platter near to them. 

 

Harry waited for her to lower it to his mouth, and after she did so, a happy little smile on her face, he gave his answer. “It’d be fun, taking a little swim with my maids,” He cocked his head. “You don’t have maid bathing suits too, do you?” 

 

Fleur opened her mouth, her flush deepening as she made to give her response…

 

But Gabby cut her off. “No, of course not — zere ees no such zeeng. ‘Ere, I weel show you, yes?” She rose up from where she’d been seated beside him and stretched, a squeak coming from her when she did a little shake. Afterwards, she twirled around so as to look at Harry, and gestured down herself, especially towards the little skirt that’d risen up to give him a flash of white. “We ‘ave our underwear under zees. Zey are only a leetle deefferent, no?”  

 

“I supp—” 

 

“We can sweem after ‘e ‘as ‘ad time to let ze food settle,” Fleur’s eyes caught his own, and after the words Gabby had just said in regards to how they’d swim… well, she looked very red. 

 

“Parfait,” Gabby clapped her hands. “We can geev ‘eem a massage to start, and zen ‘e weel rub ze block on ‘ees maids so zey do not burn.” 

 

He gave a mute nod. 

 

Harry reckoned he could do that. 

 

Gladly.