Veela .|. H. J. POTTER

9: flour or flowers

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𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬

birthday cakes are difficult

┗━━━━━━❂━━━━━━┛

˗ˏˋ 'ˎ˗

Due to the excessive protection charms they had put around the house and the land surrounding it, the task of getting the Delacours to The Burrow had proven to be quite a pickle.

Mr Weasley met them at the top of a nearby hill where the three Delacours arrived with the Portkey - Veela learnt that to be a piece of rubbish that allowed a person to travel from one place to another but the experience wasn't quite appealing to her when Ron explained how nauseating it was.

The Burrow had never been this clean, Veela was told, and Mrs Weasley was incredibly proud of it though every little thing worked on her nerves very fast. 

The Delacours were incredibly nice people - just like Fleur - and they were very kind and inquisitive about Veela's condition. Even though they lived in France and barely got news of the war in Great Brittain, it was clear that they would not be on the dark side of things. They were excited to tell Veela all about the veelas in their bloodline and even more delighted to explain all the details of that part of their family.

Stars coated the sky soon already and when dawn approached, Veela woke up earlier than usual. The first sun barely peeked through the slit in the curtains when she was already up and out of bed, her limbs tingling with the need to move and to get out of bed. 

With the day that was ahead of them, Veela was sure she wouldn't be the only one up early and her theory was proven right when she bumped into someone after barely taking one step out of her bedroom. 

The gods of fate had thrown no one other than Harry into her path right as he walked down the stairs from the attic and reached out to open the bathroom door Veela was heading for as well.

"Hey -"

"Hey," Veela said quickly, smiling at him when she remembered the day. "Congratulations on turning seventeen."

Harry beamed, his heart skipping a beat at the fact that she remembered. He knew someone must have told her but it still felt like a little bit of his Veela again. "Thank you."

"I'm terribly sorry for not getting you a present," Veela instantly sighed. "I feel like I should have since we were - you know - but then everything got messed up but you still -"

"It's alright, Veela, don't fret it," Harry reassured her, his hand cramping to reach out and give her a comforting squeeze. "You'd always gift me something but I always felt that the real present was the fact that you were there. So - so, I'm happy enough that you're at least nearby even ... you know ..."

A hesitant smile spread on Veela's lips. Somehow she could tell that Harry had never actually said those words to her; that he kept his glee for her presence at his birthdays a secret and instead marvelled at whatever gifts she had given him. She wondered what they had done together that could make him so happy that he cared less for the materialistic things she had gotten him. 

Some sadness lingered as well, a stray thought Veela couldn't quite push away. He said he was satisfied enough that she was here, despite the fact that she couldn't even tell him about his last birthday - a worry gnawed on her mind, a voice that told her he still wasn't happy. Not as happy as before.