Harry Potter 1. Montmartre XVIIIe arrondissement

**A/N: A little background info - _Paris Je T'aime _is a French-language collective film that includes eighteen love stories (not necessarily romantic) in eighteen of the twenty-some Paris arrondissements. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it.**

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**"Vot," he said, draining his goblet and getting to his feet again, "is the point of being an international Quidditch player if all the good-looking girls are taken?" - _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_**

It was hard to quell his anger when confronted with such an ignorant, careless, inconsiderate man. Deathly Hallows, indeed. . .

Storming off to the far side of the magically expanded garden, Viktor Krum reflected on the status of tonight. For starters, it had been a pleasant wedding, and he had been delighted to receive Fleur's invitation. He had also been delighted to see Hermione again.

However, he had finally excepted that they were _just friends. _He had known the the redhead boy had liked her from the start, and judging from Hermione's letters, she liked him as well.

To add to his singular feeling, the rest of the females at the wedding who were close to his age seemed to be occupied with partners already. Even worse, he didn't know any of these people, and despite the fact that he _was _an international Quidditch player, he wasn't a superb conversationalist.

It wasn't as if he was asking for a lot of attention - on the contrary, he disliked the craze of fans and their over-enthusiasm. He just wanted one girl, one quietly pretty girl who he could understand and be attracted to, and vice versa. So far, he hadn't really found her.

His anger was fading into sullenness as he roamed the edges of the yard, mulling over his present status as a single man. Watching the festivities from afar, he breathed the summer air heavily.

He almost didn't notice how the music stopped and the dancers separated to make way for a luminous figure - what was it? A dog? Or a large cat? The thing he believed to be a Patronus of some sort spoke in a loud, booming voice that he could not understand from his stance on the farther side of the garden. All he knew was the sudden pandemonium that had broken out after the Patronus vanished.

The numerous guests began to Disapparate while some new figures appeared to Apparate in. Immediately, Viktor's sense of danger was sparked and he moved for his wand--

"Ah, no! I can't Apparate yet!" A girl of about his own age, English, shouted. Her chocolate brown curls flew from side to side as she looked about frantically.

Close by, he could see people arriving and leaving at the same time. Thinking on instinct, he ran, grabbed the unknown girl's hand, and Apparated out to the first safe place he could think of - his hotel. As they were sucked into that odd sensation, Viktor held onto her hand tightly, hoping that neither would get splinched on account of his hasty thinking or her clearly terrified emotional state.

When the whole swirl finally ended, and they were in the main room of the Leaky Cauldron, she gave out a short yelp.

"What - what--" she sputtered.

"You said you did not know how to Apparate," he told her simply.

"Viktor Krum!"

He cleared his throat uncomfortably as the girl's eyes widened. "Yes. And you are?"

"Penelope Clearwater, former Ravenclaw Hogwarts prefect. The TriWizard tournament was my eighth year. I stayed extra," she replied, a smile beginning to form on her face.

"Thank you for. . . Well, saving me. I've never been much good at Apparition."

Viktor's face was heating up a bit. "Uh, yes. You're velcome."

At that point, he didn't know what else to say. He was looking at her, wracking his brains for something interesting of something witty and engaging, but as usual, nothing.

"Er, well, d'you fancy a drink? I could do with one, after tonight."

Relieved, he told her with a smile, "I could do vith one as vell."

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I didn't want to create an OC. And since, JKR did say that Percy and Penelope did not marry, I thought of this. Perhaps Penelope was invited to the wedding after Fleur befriended her sometime in GOF? And yes, I decided that Penelope would stay another year. Artistic liberty, people. Review if you dare. . .


	2. Quais De Seine Ve arrondissement

**"Oh. . . Well . . ." she shrugged. "I think they think I'm a bit odd, you know. Some of them call me 'Loony' Lovegood, actually." - _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_**

Neville Longbottom was, for what seemed the hundredth time this year, without anything to do. The difficulty of his homework had lessened since being in the DA, as well as the lack of Potions class. Defense Against the Dark Arts was the only thing he truly struggled with, and only because the teacher this year was Snape. Yet still, Neville found himself without anything to do.

Usually on such an occasion, he'd be in the greenhouses, dissecting and nurturing the plants, but today Sprout had classes full and he wasn't permitted to be around because he'd be potentially in the way. The winter cold didn't help matters much.

No homework, no plants, and no outside unless you wanted to be an icicle. Roughly, this translated into sitting around the Great Hall and attempting to read an advanced Herbology book he'd started. So far, it wasn't working due to the couple of offensive Slytherins who also appeared to have a free period. They had been harassing every female that had passed by in the last hour.

Neville, to his chagrin, glanced up as he heard more catcalling.

"Hey there, Ginger. Where's your Potty-potions boyfriend? If you're tired of his brew, I'm always here to heat your cauldron," the dirty blond leered.

It was Ginny Weasley. As she walked past with her school bag, she gave them a piercing stare and, if Neville assumed correctly, a rather rude hand gesture. This only made the boys laugh harder.

He sighed to himself as the boys continued with their crude jokes, and then received relatively the same responses. Neville tried not to notice; the girls seemed to be handling it themselves.

"Oi, it's _Loony Lovegood! _What the bloody hell have you got on your head? A Gryffindor Lion? Or is it a beacon for Crumple-arsed Sodcracks?" The idiots could barely hold back gasps of laughter after they said this. Neville couldn't help but look up with a frown.

"Crumple-Horned Snorcacks? Yes, I have spotted a few," she replied earnestly, the dreamy edge of her voice increasing, as if she were remembering something.

The Slytherins continued. "You mean in the mirror? 'Cause if you see a flat-chested hag, it's just because you're a freak!" Apparently feeling particularly malicious, the same dirty-blonde stuck his foot out and tripped the Ravenclaw over as she was about to sit down.

Neville did not know at what point he had come over and helped Luna up; but nearly ten minutes later he found his hand spattered with a bit of blood and Luna facing him outside next to the frozen Black Lake.

"Why thank you Neville Longbottom. You needn't have punched that boy in the nose though, you know. I get the same from him quite a lot actually," Luna blinked her round blue eyes as she smiled.

He felt a slight ache in the knuckles of his right hand as he flexed the fingers. He must've slugged the Slytherin really hard. A surge of satisfaction rose in his stomach.

"Gits. . . Luna, did you say that he does that a lot?" The smile lessened when she declared his question in the affirmative.

He could feel himself frowning again. "But why don't you ever say anything? They're really cruel prats to say things like that. Why do you wear it?" he pointed to the lion she was holding in her hands that had come off when she tripped.

It was her turn to frown - almost. "You don't get it, do you, Neville?" He shook his head.

"It doesn't matter to me what they say, really. But I always do my best to tell them what I think. If they don't like it, that's fine. Some people also don't like me because of what I wear and all that, you know?

"But I like to wear Godric-" she looked at the hat, "-because he's a Gryffindor and I'm a Ravenclaw. It means friendship, don't you think?"

Neville took a long time, just looking at her with a knitted brow, digesting all she'd just told him. While someone like Hermione or Ginny would probably have snapped at him, Luna continued to gaze at him unblinkingly.

The two looked at each other like that for while, simply staring. They were interrupted when the clock rang several times. That's right; people would be leaving for the holidays.

"When is your Gran coming?" Luna asked.

Honestly, he didn't know. Tomorrow? "Um. . . Later on. What about you, Luna, is your Dad here?"

"Probably. We were going to meet at the Three Broomsticks."

Feeling awkward as usual, the Gryffindor replied stiffly, "Er, well, have a good Christmas then, Luna."

Nodding, she said, "I will talk to you later Neville Longbottom. Maybe you'll meet Daddy."

Neville didn't get out another word before the blond skipped away through the snow, her slightly wavy hair going about in different directions as he waved weakly.

Fifteen minutes later, Neville found himself close behind Luna, trudging slowly through the crowded Hogsmeade village. Luna seemed to be aware that he was following her, but even if she was, she hadn't made any mention of it. Instead, she kept walking straight to the Three Broomsticks Inn, until she reached a somewhat tall man with shoulder-length candyfloss hair.

When Luna greeted him, the man beamed with delight - Neville figured that this must have been Luna's father.

"This is Neville Longbottom, Daddy," Luna was saying as her father was walking toward Neville, who was feeling more awkward than ever and distantly wondered where that Herbology book was.

"Hello, I am Xenophilius Lovegood. Luna's told me quite a lot about you," the _Quibbler _editor said, holding his hand out in greeting.

Neville found it easiest to nod at this point. "Hullo. Er, Luna's told me some things about you too." That seemed to be the politest thing to say.

"I'm also aware that you are a great student of Herbology," Xenophilius carried on, "I do hope that you don't get inducted into the Snargalapuff Snare. But please join us, would you? Though I caution not to order any mead - it has been known to activate strange properties in the digestive system."

"Of course, Mr. Lovegood," replied Neville, giving Luna a quick glance. She was smiling. He found that he was smiling too.

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Longer than the last, but it is my favorite HP ship. Anyway, it's quite canonic in my opinion. Review if you dare . . .


	3. Tuileries Ie arrondissement

**"I thought he'd annoy Ron the most," said Hermione dispassionately. - _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince_**

I haven't been to the Ministry in ages. Actually, I don't think I've been there ever since the end of the War. Not like I'd want to go exactly, but in order to get permission for this project, I'm required to have a meeting with the Experimental Magic Department or some such trivial thing. I don't see _why _I really have to, but they're so bloody fussy about everything over there I don't think there's much use trying to argue about it. I'm definitely going to complain about it later, though.

So that's why I'm in this less than neat Muggle train station, watching little kids go by until the twelve forty-five stops by. In the meantime, I've got a couple of things in my briefcase that I might peruse while I wait. The clock says another thirty five minutes.

Reading the materials proves to be excruciatingly boring. Another train passes by. Wait - is that who I think it is?

Maybe. A couple, one tall man with shockingly ginger hair, and a girl with a bushy brown nest piled on top of her head in a bun of sorts. It could be.

From this distance, three tracks away, it's kind of hard to tell. They're smiling at the moment, and, oh, he's just started to snog her. A lot. They're snogging for a bit until she appears to push him away gently. If I'm right, she's embarrassed. Granger was always like that, actually. I seem to remember her running away a lot at Slughorn's party.

A few minutes later, and they appear to be arguing. Granger looks over at me and now I'm almost completely sure it's her. She looks a good deal more attractive now. But the redhead - what was his name? Wellesely? Sure. Something like that. Wellesely is pointing my way and they're definitely arguing with each other. Typical.

Just as they're really getting heated at each other, the twelve thirty rushes past and my view is completely blocked by a grayish blur. As soon as it passes, I'm staring over again and the ginger bloke is alone. I thought that Apparition was banned in a public Muggle area like this.

"Hello, Cormac," says someone very close to my ear. I almost jumped when I turned my head.

"Whoah, Granger. What are you doing here?"

She smiled a little over-zealously. "Oh, just stopping by to say hi. And you?"

I could hear Wellesley shouting in disbelief when he saw where his girlfriend was. Granger pointedly ignored the noise.

"I'm visiting the Ministry to get my hair-care product approved," I replied with a smile that was sure to be irresistible. Even though I had a girlfriend didn't mean that I wasn't free to, er, mingle.

"Oh, really?" She suddenly ran her hand through my hair, almost a little nervously.

I was about to make a suave reply when her lips clashed with mine. Surprised but feeling pretty confident, I kissed her back and then tried to put my arms around her.

Things were going pretty fine before she pushed me away and then kneed me in. . . well, a sensitive spot. Little tart.

Then, to add insult to injury, her stupid boyfriend had to come over and slug me in the face. What a git! It's not like I did anything to him or his bushy friend. Besides, she's just lucky enough to have gotten up close and personal with me at all. Well, they both just took off after that, leaving me on the bench in considerable pain before I realized that I had missed the train.

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Rather short this time, but this wasn't my favorite story in the original film. Plus, I hate Cormac Mcglaggen. But I needed Ron/Hermione in there somewhere. Review if you dare...


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Harry Potter, Romance