Fleur wasn't happy when Harry flashed home, battered and exhausted, offering no explanations.
She was even less impressed when she learned exactly where he was and what he had been doing.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU FOUGHT VOLDEMORT?" she shouted furiously.
Harry flinched at the sudden ferocity, but didn't back down.
"Okay, so you want to fight Voldemort with me, do you?" he asked slowly. Perhaps sarcasm wasn't the right option at this moment.
"YES! THAT'S WHAT WE AGREED ON!"
"Alright, alright. And how do you think this fight is going to go? He'll immediately attack you to gouge your skill, and when he finds you lacking, he'll devise a plan and crush you methodically. Hell, he probably won't even need to fall on schemes. He could just cast an overpowered dark spell at you, and watch as you fumble into your death," Harry said unemotionally.
Fleur's nostrils flared, her hands trembling—not from fear, but fury. "You think I cannot fight? That I am some delicate flower to be kept hidden while you go play hero?"
"I think," Harry said, his tone still flat, "that Voldemort doesn't play. And if you die because you wanted to prove something, I'll never forgive myself."
Her lips parted, but no words came for a moment. Despite the silence, the room was thick with tension.
"I do not want to prove something," she said finally, her voice quieter but sharper. "I want to fight with you, Harry. Not behind you. Not waiting for you to come back half-dead."
Harry exhaled, dragging a hand over his face. He looked so tired.
"I can't risk you," he said softly. "Every time I close my eyes, I see what could go wrong. I can't—"
"You cannot keep me safe by keeping me here," she interrupted fiercely. "You taught me half the spells I know yourself. You trained me to stand beside you. So do not now tell me I am too weak to try."
He met her gaze, and for the first time that night, the coldness in his voice cracked. "You weren't there," he said, barely above a whisper. "You didn't see him. You didn't feel it. Fleur, he's strong and he's smart. If we team up, even with Sirius, he'd catch you off-guard, and I can't possibly defend you in a fight, not against him. I have to be a hundred per cent focused on the magic flying around, and there's no way I can do that with you there."
Fleur's jaw clenched. "You think I would distract you?"
"Yes," Harry said bluntly. "Because I'd be watching you the whole time. Because if he even looked at you, I'd stop thinking."
His honesty hung heavy between them.
Fleur stared at him, chest rising and falling in sharp breaths. For a long moment, she didn't speak. Then, quietly, she said, "Do you hear yourself, Harry? You are already letting him win."
He frowned. "What?"
"You are fighting alone," she said, her voice trembling with restrained fury. "Pushing everyone away. You think you should shoulder the weight of this war by yourself—but that is exactly what he wants. To make you alone. To make you believe only you can end it."
Harry's lips tightened.
"Are you hearing what I'm saying? I don't want this weight, and I'd gladly allow someone to share it with me. This is not the problem. I simply can't lose you."
Fleur stepped closer. "Then trust me to live," she said, her tone fierce and pleading all at once. "Let me make that choice. You do not get to decide for me."
Harry closed his eyes, and for a moment, she thought she saw him waver. But when he opened them again, the exhaustion in his green eyes had hardened into something else—resolve, maybe.
"I can't promise that," he whispered. "Not with him. Not when one mistake means losing you."
She went to leave the room, but he caught her wrist, holding it there against his skin.
His voice cracked when he finally replied, "If I ever lose you, Fleur… there won't be anything left of me to fight with."
Her heart twisted. For once, she had no retort—just silence, heavy with all the things they couldn't say.
After a long pause, she whispered, "Then don't make me wait here to wonder if today or tomorrow is the night you won't come back."
Harry looked away, jaw tightening as if the words physically hurt. "I'll think about it," he said at last, though they both knew he already had his answer.
But Fleur only nodded, stepping back, her eyes not leaving his. "Do," she said.
He sighed and nodded.
"I'll go tell Sirius as well. Get some more shouted on," he said with a small smile and hugged her.
They stayed like that for a few moments, enjoying each other's warmth.
"You're grimy," Fleur said when they broke the hug, and pinched her nose.
"Aw, how sweet of you," Harry said with faux kindness, making her smile.
"I'll go prepare a steaming bath and soak myself in there for an hour. You know where to find me," she said and turned to leave, swaying her hips seductively.
Harry had to consciously stop both his blood and mind from going to unwanted places.
"I love you," he said.
"I love you too!" Fleur answered without looking back.
She had started undressing already, no doubt with nefarious purposes in mind.
Harry sighed and flashed away.
.
.
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Chapter 131: It's Finally Over