HP (Harry Potter) Requests

As the Triwizard Tournament drew to a close and Hogwarts returned to its usual rhythm, Harry found herself feeling increasingly out of place. She wandered through the castle’s familiar halls, her mind elsewhere, thoughts filled with recent battles, lingering scars, and a yearning she hadn’t fully admitted to herself. It was Fleur, radiant as always, who caught up with her one afternoon, pulling her aside with that ever-knowing smile.

“‘Arry,” Fleur said, her accent soft and comforting, “I ‘ave been thinking… You do not belong ‘ere, you know?”

Harry tilted her head, intrigued. “What do you mean?”

Fleur’s gaze softened. “I mean… zis place, zis castle—it has been good to you, but it also ‘olds you back. You deserve to be somewhere you can truly be yourself.” Fleur reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Harry’s face. “And I think Beauxbatons could be zat place.”

Harry’s heart raced. Beauxbatons? She couldn’t help but let out a small, nervous laugh. “Fleur, I’m not exactly... well, you know,” she hesitated, feeling both vulnerable and hopeful. “I’m not exactly Beauxbatons material.”

Fleur chuckled, shaking her head as if she found the idea absurd. “Mon amour, you are more zhan zat. Do you know ‘ow many girls there look up to you, even from afar? Zey adore you… and I adore you.” Her voice dropped, a hint of mischief glinting in her eyes. “And I zink you would look magnifique in our robes.”

Blushing, Harry bit her lip. The thought of leaving Hogwarts felt daunting, and yet, with Fleur standing there, urging her, she felt a thrill at the possibility. “But… Dumbledore, the professors, Ron and Hermione…”

Fleur waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, you can write letters! Zey will understand, especially your friends.” She raised an eyebrow. “And Dumbledore, well, he always knew you were… different, didn’t ‘e? He will understand, I am sure.”

The sincerity in Fleur’s eyes made Harry’s reservations melt away. “I suppose... maybe a fresh start wouldn’t be so bad.” She glanced down at her school uniform, tugging at the tie as if it had been a weight she’d carried for far too long.

Fleur beamed, linking her arm through Harry’s. “Perfect! And when you arrive, I shall introduce you to all my friends. Zey will be so jealous of me—having ze most beautiful witch in all of England.”

Harry snorted, nudging Fleur playfully. “You’re exaggerating. Besides, have you seen yourself?”

Fleur put a hand over her heart, her expression teasingly serious. “Are you flirting with me, Miss Potter? Because if so, I must say, you are succeeding.”

Harry grinned, feeling more herself than she had in ages. “Maybe a little. I guess it’s working, huh?”

With Fleur’s laughter filling the air, the world around them felt lighter, as if Hogwarts and its stifling walls were already fading into the background. Fleur pulled her closer, whispering, “Zen let us go, ‘Arry. Together.”

And together they went, leaving behind the shadows of Hogwarts and venturing toward a new beginning—a place where Harry could finally be who she was meant to be, and Fleur would be by her side, every step of the way.