A kiss on the cheek? Fleur knows better than to think that's enough, and she's not the only one.
"Look after Gabrielle," she told her, and then she turned to Harry. "You saved 'er," she said breathlessly. "Even though she was not your 'ostage."
"Yeah," said Harry, who was now heartily wishing he'd left all three girls tied to the statue.
Fleur bent down, kissed Harry twice on each cheek... (GoF, p. 505-6 hardcover)
After her last kiss, Fleur whispered into Harry's right ear. "Expect a visitor tonight," she breathed, before turning to ask Ron about his role in Gabrielle's rescue. Harry was blushing like a tomato, but then Ludo Bagman started to announce the results, and no one noticed until Harry could return to his proper color.
The other girls and professors from Beauxbatons herded Fleur and Gabrielle away from Harry, so he couldn't ask her about his 'visitor.' Harry looked toward Hermione, who was cheering but too far away to talk to. When the ceremony ended, Harry joined the excitedly chattering group of Gryffindors going back to the castle, as they discussed the improved chance of Harry's victory.
However, none of the students talking to Harry said anything about talking to Fleur. Harry ate dinner and passed the evening in the common room, talking to several students briefly about his actions and smiling as Ron's recollections subtly shifted during the evening. Finally, around 11:30, Harry was too tired to keep waiting for the visitor Fleur told him about, and went upstairs to shower and go to bed.
When he pulled the curtains around his four-poster and was about to crawl under the covers, a voice seemed to come from nowhere. "At least I've found you, Harry. It's probably a good thing that you waited this long, as we have a great deal to discuss." The voice was female, cultured, and deep; Harry felt a pleasant shiver run down his spine.
"Where are you?" Harry asked, looking around for the voice and peeking outside the curtains to check if anyone else had heard.
"Don't worry about your classmates, Harry. I've placed a little spell on them; nothing but sweet dreams until the morning. Please look at your pillow."
Glad he hadn't removed his glasses, Harry did so; after a few moments he saw a red-gold speck on the edge of his pillow. As said as he was looking at it, it transformed with a snap into the familiar form of Fawkes, Professor Dumbledore's phoenix.
"Fawkes? But what did- how did..." Harry sputtered.
"Don't be alarmed, Harry. Fleur asked me to have a few words. She also wanted me to show you my true form." With those words and another snap, Fawkes changed from avian form.
Fawkes' new body caused Harry's jaw to drop. Instead of the feathered being who had rescued him from the Chamber of Secrets eighteen months earlier, he was now looking at a tall, dazzling woman with waist-length red-gold hair. She woman reclined on his bed, giving Harry a good look at her figure- large breasts, toned stomach, and long, slender legs. Only a few strategic scraps of flame-patterned silk made any attempt to cover her form.
"Oh, that feels good," she purred, throwing her head back. "It has been so long since I've had the chance to stretch my legs in my proper shape." She suited actions to words, as Harry was fascinated by the play of the muscles in her legs before returning his gaze to her face. She didn't seem to mind.
Harry cleared his throat and thought for a few seconds before he asked his first question. "How did Fleur know that you wanted to talk to me?"
"She discussed it with me after you rescued her sister," Fawkes responded with a smile. "We've spoken regularly since she arrived at the castle; it's only fair given her rank."
"Rank?" Harry asked blankly.
"You do know what Delacour translates to, don't you?" Fawkes inquired patiently; Harry thought she sounded a bit like Hermione. A very little bit. Harry wouldn't mind if the resemblance had been closer.
"Of the court... you mean that she's a princess or something?" Harry blurted.
"Oh, yes. She and her family have ruled their city for hundreds of years. I spent some time living with them a while ago," she reminisced.
"How long ago was that?" Harry asked.
"Let me think... about five hundred of your years. Then a couple of hundred years ago, I left on an adventure to learn some new magic, and it was then that I met Dumbledore, who give me the name by which you know me. And yes, you can keep calling me Fawkes. He's been quite an instructive fellow, even if he doesn't always know it," she grinned.
"Does Dumbledore know about," Harry questioned, waving at her delectable body.
"No," she replied, with an amused look in her eyes. "The link between Veela and Phoenixes began long, long before he was alive or Hogwarts was founded, and there are no records to be found. Besides," she smirked, "he wouldn't have been interested anyway."
Harry found that hard to believe, but pressed on. "So how did you come to know Fleur?"
"Ages ago, there were many families of veela and phoenixes. Unfortunately, we have a nasty habit of fighting each other whenever we meet, for territory and magical goods taken from each other's bodies. My family won such a fight in what you now call France, but was left with too few members to continue by itself. So we struck an arrangement with another village of Veela. We offered them our services in exchange for safety. We've learned each other's magic and have become a single society. But there are only a few of us left. There are no male Veela, and we don't live forever," she concluded sadly.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Fawkes. Is there anything I can do to help?" Harry asked before blushing at the sound of his question.
This brought the widest grin yet to Fawkes' lovely face. "Why, yes. Fleur believed that I should discuss the matter with you after your heroism today. There is a Veela tradition that someone who saves a life should be properly rewarded." Fawkes' grin grew further as she looked down to see Harry's reaction under his pajamas. "I can see that you like the idea more than Dumbledore would," she jested.
Harry sputtered, "Thank you, but I... I mean, I don't know..."
"Relax, Harry. It would be my honor to teach you." As Fawkes reached for Harry, her silken covering seemed to evaporate into the night air.
"Oh, Harry, no! I am very sorry, but it has been so long... I really don't think I can do that again," Fawkes panted.
Harry, who had reached for Fawkes to begin another round, fell back onto his pillows. He was more tired than he had let on, but Fawkes had made it clear how important it was to pay attention to Fawkes' lessons.
"Worry not, Harry. Nine orgasms in one night really have taken a lot out of me, and I respect anyone who can deliver such pleasure. But I should tell you, though, that there is a problem that we must deal with. Two of them, actually."
"What are they?" Harry asked, suddenly alert. If he'd learned one thing at Hogwarts, it was that trouble could find him at any time from any direction.
"The first is that, during my time here, I have noticed several young women who would appreciate learning some of the things you've learned from me. I can point them out to you. I wouldn't mind helping you, if you wanted me to," she stated, grinning hungrily.
"And the second?" Harry asked while wondering who these future girlfriends could be.
"Fleur has violated the rules of her people," she pronounced sternly. "It is the responsibility of a Veela to personally reward a benefactor like yourself, not send others to do so. She deserves punishment, Harry. You and I, and some of your friends, will deliver it one day."
Harry thought for a few seconds before a grin broke out on his face. "Did she know this?" he asked Fawkes.
"Not a doubt in my mind," she answered, grinning wolfishly again. "We must see to it that you have the help you need when the time comes." With that, Harry lay back and his breathing began to slow.
"Good night, lover dear," Fawkes cooed. "Pleasant dreams and days be yours." With that and a final snap, she returned to her accustomed form and flapped her wings to fly into the night.
Harry awoke the following morning, unsure if his exertions the previous evening were real or just an unusually detailed dream. But how could he know? His roommates were acting as they would on any other morning, and he couldn't imagine any way of asking.
After he came downstairs, he ran into Hermione with a stack of toast. "I don't suppose you'd minding coming with me for a walk around the lake? I mean, I'm glad I helped you feel better before the task, and I've gotten used to your company," she shyly explained.
With that she turned toward the exit. She was wearing a white blouse and a tight pair of jeans that morning... and sticking out of the back pocket of her jeans by an inch or so, was a brilliant red-gold feather.
With a grin, Harry called to Hermione and ran to catch up.