Lessons from a Grateful Veela
Pairing: Harry Potter/Fleur Delacour
Summary: Fleur decides that Harry should be rewarded for saving her sister from the lake in the second task.
Disclaimer: JK owns the Harry Potter world and all the characters in it; I've just borrowed them for this story.
Mademoiselle Delacour's bedroom,
Thursday, 24th February 1994.
Fleur Delacour lay on her bed, deep in thought. She had just said a reluctant adieu to her parents and sister, relieved that little Gabrielle had not been harmed by her ordeal and grateful beyond words to Harry Potter for rescuing her from the Mer-village. Even though people had repeatedly said, after the fact, that Gabbi was never in any danger from the event, she couldn't stop shaking at the thought of never seeing her again, of having failed her so badly.
In the pit of her Grindylow-induced despair suddenly the fourth champion, the little boy she had called him originally, had emerged, clinging tightly to Gabbi and bringing her ashore. Fleur's relief and delight were beyond words at what Harry had done.
Another reason for her thoughts were the effect the day's events had had on her magic; the Veela magic had spiked both from his rescue and from the debt she had believed that she owed him, a debt that no words of the tournament's 'safeguards' for the hostages could erase. The blonde smiled as an idea formed; she had been wrong, Harry was not a little boy but he was a boy, as illustrated by his flustered reaction to the thank you kiss she'd given him on the lakeshore. He may be a man in some ways, Fleur mused, but maybe I can help him along in some others.
With tomorrow being Friday the timing was perfect; she would be able to 'look after' him for the whole weekend without causing anyone any problems. The main obstacle to her scheme would be to get him alone in the first place; she didn't particularly want to drag him out of the Great Hall after dinner, as that would set tongues wagging and greatly embarrass him, so instead she thought about talking to him right after his last class, remembering what Madame Maxime had told them earlier in the year, that if they ever wanted to take their meals in the carriage, they would be taken care of. Few students had done that (one or two on occasion, particularly in the days after the Goblet of Fire had spewed forth the four names, some of the more disappointed girls had hidden themselves away for a few days and a couple more had done so after the Yule Ball as they sought to hide from their disastrous or over-amorous dates for a little while) but she felt this coming weekend would be a good opportunity to take advantage of the option of a private dinner.
Fleur thought back on the Wand Weighing ceremony; the boy had been summoned from his Potions class that Friday afternoon. She decided that she would sneak out of her last class early and make her way to the Potions corridor to lie in wait for Harry Potter.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Friday, 25th February 1994.
"'Arry?" The voice caused the infamous Gryffindor trio to turn; Harry Potter peered in the direction that the voice had come from, at first confused but then he smiled as he saw the French champion drop her disillusionment charm and stand before him.
"Hi, Fleur, how are you? How's Gabrielle after the task?"
"She eez very well, zank you," the French girl informed him. She then threw a telling glance at Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, stood a couple of paces behind Harry (they had also stopped at her call). "I was wondering eef I could 'ave a word?"
"Sure," he confirmed; the blonde continued to stare at his companions.
"We'll see you at dinner, Harry," Hermione told him, taking the hint and elbowing Ron none too gently in the stomach to get him to move; the redhead continued to look back, stealing glances at Fleur as she talked with his friend, until Hermione had dragged him out of sight (though Harry and Fleur both heard a loud "ouch" from him, followed by an exasperated "honestly" from Hermione as his knee collided with the wall due to his not looking where he was going).
Harry was smiling at the incident before turning back to the French beauty. "What did you want to talk about?" he asked her.
"Can we go for a walk?" she asked; not waiting for a reply she reached out and took his hand, leading him down the passageway, up the main stairs and out of the school's front door. "I wanted to zank you," she began once they were in the open air, "for saving my seestair. Gabbi eez everysing to me."
"It was nothing," he shrugged modestly, "and you thanked me yesterday."
"Oui, but I was 'oping zat I could do eet again, in a more… personal way?"
The blank look Harry gave her confirmed her supposition. Yes, she told herself, there is plenty that I can teach him and help him with. "I also wanted to apologise for ze leetle boy comment; eet was wrong of me."
"Oh that?" he shrugged it off. "Don't worry about it; it's understandable when dealing with someone a few years younger than you. Er… shouldn't we go for dinner soon?" he asked nervously as she led him (still holding his hand) towards the French school's carriage.
"We can 'ave food sent here if we like," she informed him.
"Oh," he mumbled as that argument evaporated; in a slight daze he let his fellow champion lead him into the deserted carriage and up to the top floor.
"An aventage of being a Veela," she explained as she opened the door to the smaller of the two rooms, "a room to myself. Ze allure can… cause problems," she pondered the words carefully.
"I can feel it now," Harry whispered, but Fleur shook her head.
"Non," she countered, "I am not using eet now, but when I do," she leaned close to him, "you weel know," she breathed. A casual wave of her wand locked the door behind them, further accelerating Harry's heartbeat.
"What would you like to eat?" the Veela asked casually, another lazy flick of her wand cleared the table that stood between the door and her bed; she then used it again to conjure two straight-backed, cushioned dining chairs, one either side of it.
"On a Friday I usually have pork chops and chips but…" the boy stopped talking as a plate materialised in front of him with the requested meal. "Wow," he breathed, causing Fleur's lyrical laughter to drift over him again; she called for and received a chicken salad and the two teenagers sat down to eat.
"Dessert?" she offered when he had finished, before daintily taking another bite of her chicken.
"If you can make treacle tart appear then…" No sooner had he said the words than a large tart appeared, complete with two dessert forks and interrupting his thoughts.
"Looks like we 'ave to share," his mirthful hostess told him. "Zat weel not be a problem?"
"No, of course not," he assured her.
"Well, thank you," he told her after they had eaten. "It was nice to have dinner away from the crowds, and with such pleasant company."
"Maybe a drink?" she offered before standing up and walking to her trunk, bending over as she reached into it. While her robes were long enough that they barely revealed any bare flesh on her ankles Harry's gaze was drawn higher towards the shapely French derrière that was pointing towards him; the way Fleur was moving it seemed to him as if she was deliberately trying to draw his attention to it. She straightened and turned to him, holding two bottles in front of her chest, drawing the young seeker's eyes to that instead. "You like Butterbeer, non?"
"I love it," he confirmed automatically, trying desperately not to start drooling and embarrass himself any more than he was sure he already had done this evening.
"Zen to ze task," she handed him a bottle before touching it with her own, "and to ze 'ero 'oo saved Gabbi."
Harry tried to scoff at the adulation but his eyes were drawn to Fleur's luscious red lips as she spoke and to the hypnotic quality of her voice. He quickly took a swig of his drink, closing his eyes and trying desperately to think of something other than the girl opposite him.
This was difficult as Fleur, for her part, was asking him a lot of questions; she seemed extremely interested in his adventures at school. She had noticed that when she had asked about his early life he had tried to skip over his life outside of school as much as possible, which she chose to respect for now, but also that when he got onto life at Hogwarts he sought to downplay his achievements and his part in the adventures.
"You are too modest," she told him with a smile, before running her tongue around the rim of her butterbeer bottle, smiling inwardly as the act drew Harry's eyes to her tongue. The way his eyes lost focus seemed to confirm that he was fantasising about what else she could do with that tongue. Soon, my dear, soon you will know just what I can do with it.
It seemed that Harry could pick up on that particular message as he set his bottle down rather nervously. "Thank you for tonight, Fleur, but I should probably be going soon and let you enjoy your evening."
"But 'Arry, you 'ave not finished your drink," she protested; a defeated Harry picked up the bottle and took another drink as the French girl continued to ask him about his time at Hogwarts; he struggled to explain the events of the previous year as he didn't want to incriminate himself and Hermione in illegal use of a time-turner (she was acting friendly now but would she use the information to try and disqualify him from the tournament? Or to blackmail him into losing? Sure he hadn't wanted to be in it but now he was doing so well after two of the three tasks… Harry could see himself actually winning the thing!) or, more importantly, advertise that he knew where Sirius Black was hiding. He told, though, of his godfather, falsely accused and imprisoned, his escape, the unmasking of the real traitor and how he vanished from a locked room.
Fleur gave an enigmatic smile; like Snape she seemed to be able to use her eyes to bore into his mind, unlike when Snape did it, this was a very pleasant feeling. "I zink you know more zan you are saying, 'Arry, but zat ees usually wise. I 'ope zat one day you weel trust me wiz ze 'ole story." She sat back and, while she didn't look disappointed or upset, Harry felt guilty about not saying anything to her, which stayed him from wanting to head immediately back up to the castle. "Anuzzer drink?" she offered, standing before he could refuse and bending over the trunk, giving him another view of the outline of her spectacular backside.
While butterbeer isn't particularly strong, a second one, along with the proximity of the French beauty, began to have an intoxicating effect on Harry; even without using her allure Fleur could feel him relaxing in her presence. Good, she thought, we may get our magical night. The pull of her Veela magic was demanding it of her; she looked to move on to the next stage of her plan.
Whether it was the vibes or her look that was predatory she wasn't quite sure but it certainly had an effect on Harry; he seemed to snap through the fog and again suggest that it was time to bring this pleasant evening to a close.
"But I told you, 'Arry," she countered, walking around the table to him and standing over him, "I wanted to zank you for saving Gabbi."
"You don'…" he began before Fleur's finger covered his lips; she didn't want him saying anything that might cause her magic to reject the debt she owed him; doing things this way, with her magic believing she was repaying him for his actions, would heighten the sensations for her, which in turn would give him more pleasure – and make the experience something that even a master obliviator would struggle to make him ever forget.
"Shh, mon cher," she chided in a whisper. "Always so modest, but always so brave. As I said, you are not a leetle boy anymore but..," she leaned into him, "wiz my 'elp, you can be a man. I can teach you many things. Your first lesson…" she straightened up, stepped back and reached behind her, undoing the clasp on her robes; as she had removed her underwear and slipped it into her pockets while waiting disillusioned outside his classroom, her nude form was revealed as the robes fell to the ground and pooled around her feet, "ze female form," she concluded, stepping back towards him, taking his hand in hers and leading a stunned, unprotesting Harry, transfixed by her beauty revealed in all its glory, to her bed.
Lust had overtaken Harry's rational mind; it hadn't taken long for Fleur to help him remove his own clothes and she then guided his hands around her body, telling him just how she liked to be touched in all the different places on her body, where his fingers would do the job and the areas more sensitive to his lips or tongue, even the areas where a soft raking with his teeth or even a gentle bite would bring her closer to ecstasy. He had sat there as if petrified at first but gradually adapted to the situation and began to participate in the 'lesson'. Over an hour of patient tuition, from head to toe had shown him every kiss, caress and nibble that he should use on her.
"Eet's time to show me what you've learned, 'Arry," she whispered huskily before she gave him a wicked grin. "Time for your exam. Make love to me."
"What do I get if I pass?" he asked cheekily, having got over the initial shyness now he had spent so much time with the naked girl; she gave another musical laugh.
"Eef you get Outstanding zen you get to take ze exam again," she promised.
Suitably motivated, Harry set to work; he began with the French girls' feet, using his nails to tickle the sensitive soles, gripping her ankles gently but firmly as she tried to squirm. He ignored her toes (she had told him they weren't a sensitive spot for her) and instead pulled her legs apart, kissing his way up one thigh, breathing gently on her centre (something she had told him drove her wild) and back down the other thigh. He crawled up the bed, pausing to deliver another tickling breath and inhale the scent of her growing arousal before throwing her a glance and deliberately licking his lips, which caused the French witch's eyes to widen. He continued to crawl until the teens' heads were level; supporting his weight with one arm he used his right hand to brush her hair away from her face. Looking down their bodies Fleur could see his manhood hanging tantalisingly close, a thread of pre-cum starting to ooze from it; in an attempt to bring the moment forward she arched her back, trying to close the distance between them. Harry chuckled and gently pushed down on her, just below her breasts, forcing her back onto the bed. "All in good time, ma belle," he whispered into her ear, smirking evilly at her frustrated whimper. He then took the ear lobe between his teeth, tugging on it gently while he flicked the tip of it with his tongue before moving his lips to her cheek then round to her jaw, to the other side of her face and finally into a deep French kiss (amusing himself with the description given his partner). However, being a teenage boy having his first sexual encounter he was never going to last as long as he'd have wanted and jerked a little as he fired a stream of sperm onto her bed sheets.
Fleur noticed this but chose to ignore this, focussing on kissing Harry instead. He gave no indication of embarrassment at what had happened, instead he too looked to deepen the kiss. While doing so his hand moved upwards from her chest to her left breast; he took the nipple between his thumb and index finger the way she had shown him, gently squeezing the nub between them. Fleur gasped against his mouth at the feeling; he broke the kiss and moved to her neck, nipping it before kissing the pulse point, detecting that her pulse was, indeed, racing at this point. With his hand on her left breast his mouth moved to the right, licking, sucking and lavishing attention on it while the Veela writhed beneath him. He gently lowered himself onto the bed, mostly on top of her but not seeking entry with his manhood; instead his freed left hand slipped between Fleur's legs, exploring and savouring her wetness.
"Are you ready?" he asked softly.
She nodded desperately. "Oui, 'Arry, please!"
He lifted himself far enough to position himself; she took his throbbing member and positioned it for entry as he lowered himself again. Fleur groaned as he penetrated her, using her muscles to grip him firmly as he pushed inside.
"Oui, mon cher, oui," she whispered.
"Fleur," he responded, eyes closed as his own pleasure built.
"'ARRY!" she repeated loudly as her climax finally hit her; after so much teasing and arousing, along with the push from her magic, her orgasm was more intense than any she had experienced before and her whole body shuddered as wave after wave of pleasure emanated from her core. The movement added to Harry's rhythmic thrusts and pushed him over the edge with her; he yelled her name again before slumping on top of her.
"Zat was magnifique," she commended when she had caught her breath; she had rolled onto her side and while Harry remained inside her his hand was now drawing idle circles on her back. She reached behind her, guiding his hand to her bum and encouraging him to fondle it. She then moved her hand to his butt, gently kneading it as they held one another.
"So I passed?" he joked.
"Better zan Outstanding," she declared, "I zink I weel keep you."
"Keep me?" He raised an eyebrow.
"'Ave you anysing better to do zis weekend?" she asked, kissing him and beginning to thrust her hips.
Instead of trying to reply, Harry simply rolled onto his back so that Fleur was on top of him as his eyes glazed over; his left hand joined his right in exploring her bum. I didn't think so, she smiled to herself as Harry spasmed again as he had his release. Something else I can help him with, the witch thought to herself, though Harry did impress her with enough staying power that she was able to orgasm again before he finally went limp.
"Tired, mon cher?" she asked in a teasing voice an hour later as a panting Harry came down from the high of the third time they'd made love; he was struggling to keep his eyes open. "You need more stamina, Engleesh boy," she grinned; he chuckled. "Maybe zis will 'elp," and she released a healthy blast of her Veela's allure at him.
Suddenly for Harry nothing else existed; his focus was entirely on this Amazon Goddess before him; pleasing her was all that mattered. He was instantly hard, his sole purpose in life to give as much pleasure as he could to his princess. Aside from that his mind was blank, empty, that one instruction was his entire world.
And then a voice at the back of his mind reminded him of that day in Moody's classroom. Fight, the voice said, Fight it! You know how. To Fleur's amazement he stopped reaching towards her and rolled away.
"'Arry?" she asked in concern.
"Your allure," he breathed, "I was able to throw it off completely." He was momentarily excited at the accomplishment before his conscious mind joined the unconscious in making the connection with that altogether less pleasant experience. He scrambled up to his haunches and slowly edged away from her to the side of the bed, dropping to the floor and looking for his clothes.
"'Arry?" she repeated, worry mounting; she brought herself up to her knees in a non-threatening pose, arms by her side but hands outstretched towards him. "What eez eet?"
"Control. Allure. Like… the Imperious curse," he challenged; his mind was foggy and still racing so his words were incoherent but his tone was defiant; he bent down as he finally located his boxers.
"'Arry, seet, please," she patted the bed beside her and looked imploringly at him, stood there, boxers in hand, hesitating. "I weel tell you everysing, I promise, please," she asked in a soft voice while she patted the bed again, smiling with relief as he dropped his shorts again and cautiously returned to the bed. Fleur stretched out into a lying position again, allowing his eyes full access to her nude form; he moved from his seated position to lying next to her, though he made sure to remain a little out of her reach; while disappointed, she accepted it for now, pleased at least that he hadn't fled the room.
"Ze story begeens centuries ago," she began, "ze Veela have long er… used zer powers to entice wizards to mate wiz zem." Seeing the look in his eyes she continued, "eet eez not unusual in ze animal kingdom. Ze peacock has iz bright tail feathers to attract ze female, many bugs do zer mating dances for ze same reason. Even ze muggle women wear make-up and dress nicely to attract ze attention of the boys, non?" He was forced to concede the point and nodded his agreement. Fleur then smirked as she continued, "At least we are not ze Black Widow – zey keel zer mate after sex."
"After what we've done tonight I'm sure you could be the death of me if you wanted," a more relaxed Harry joked, shuffling a little closer and placing his hand on her butt.
"I know I could," she agreed with a smile, enjoying the contact, particularly as his fingers wandered over the sensitive flesh, "but I could only keel wiz pleasure and by accident. Anyway, yes, Veela use zer allure to attract a mate but eet is… 'ow you say, symbiotique?" (Harry made a note to ask Hermione what that meant) "Ze Veela got mates and offspring, ze wizards – zey lost control for a leetle while but zey got a lot of pleasure from eet, and were never 'armed in any way."
Harry couldn't dispute that; he'd certainly derived more pleasure than he'd ever felt before from their encounter, and that was even before the allure had hit him.
"But for many, many years ze Veela had to leeve away from ze towns and villages, zey had to entice a male wiz zer allure to keep ze species from dying out. Ze boys would be wizards, ze girls Veela but ze boys… around so many Veela when zey come into zair powers at puberty, eet was difficile and many duels were fought between ze boys so more men were needed to keep ze population going. So generation after generation 'ad ze same problems and, of course, enticing males made zem tres unpopular wiz ze witches of ze villages. Zat was when we 'ad to defend ourselves with our transformation and fireballs," she explained. "To protect us from un'appy witches who were 'unting us, trying to keel all Veela zey could find."
She sighed. "Eventually somesing changed and zey were able to join ze villages, zough zere was steel mistrust from ze women, ze Veela would attract ze 'ealthiest men, which displaced ze witches. Zere was peaceful coexistence, zough, for many years until ze Darkness came." She shivered; Harry edged even closer and pulled her into his arms; she nestled next to him, hand roaming over his chest and down between his legs as she continued. "Ze dark wizards – zey and ze witches put powerful sleeping draughts into ze Veelas' drinks; zey were taken away to a nearby cave and 'studied'," she wrinkled her nose in disgust at her distant ancestors being treated like laboratory animals. "Eventually zese wizards discovered 'ow to use ze magic be'ind ze allure, zey worked out 'ow to use eet to control ozzer people, to make zem do whatever zey wanted zem to."
"The Imperious curse," Harry stated.
"Oui," she confirmed. "Zey took ze Veelas' greatest treasure, ze way to bring untold pleasure to our mate, to geev ze most beautiful time to both wizard and Veela and zey turned it into a way to make someone do whatever zey want, to turn zem into slaves. Ze allure was never about enslaving but was to give ze greatest sexual experience to ze male. Eet eez why ze curse weel not work on a Veela; eet eez a corruption of our own magic so we can repel eet." She propped herself up on an elbow; her blue eyes gazed deeply into his green. "Now zat you know, 'ow do you feel?"
He forced himself to look away from his beautiful lover so he could formulate an answer. "The way you explained it," he began, "the Veela were victims and they don't look to use it for their own ends – like you said there are… benefits for the man under its influence."
"Oui, and for us too, not just ze men," he heard her confirm, "or eef zey prefer, maybe a witch," she added with a small grin; his brain was racing so much with the evening's events that he was unable to process that comment at that time.
"I can see that they're different things, that one is used for the caster's own ends and one is a part of what makes you you; I just have this thing about being controlled, about people using me. That's why it bothered me."
"I can understand that, mon cher," she told him sympathetically; then she leaned in close and breathed in his ear, "but trust me, eet would make a good time even better." Then she kissed him, kissed him again and pushed him onto his back, rolling on top of him. "Let go, 'Arry," she urged him, "surrender your control to me, just for tonight," Harry did so; he closed his eyes and allowed the allure to overwhelm his conscious mind, ignoring the implorings from the back of his mind to fight it as they made love again. Fleur was correct, it was even better than what had gone before.
Saturday 26th February 1994.
Harry awoke to the oddest sensation; feather-light kisses were peppering his face while his side was being tickled. He also seemed to be naked which was unusual. His eyes snapped open and even his eyesight could drink in the blonde witch draped over him; his mind flew back to the previous night, to his 'lessons', to everything he had experienced.
"Bonjour Fleur," he greeted her with a smile.
"'Ello 'Arry," she replied, planting a dainty kiss on his lips now that he was awake. "'Ow did you sleep?"
"Very well," he admitted, "the best night's sleep I've had in a long time."
"Ah, I seenk I wore you out," she laughed.
"You definitely did," he confirmed, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her chest onto his as they kissed again. "I think we need some breakfast," he added as his stomach grumbled.
"Mais oui," she agreed before turning to the room in general. "Elf?" she called. A second later, breakfast for two was waiting on the table.
"Oh, I was thinking I'd have to go to the Hall; Ron and Hermione will be wondering where I am," he observed.
"Maybe you can send zem a message?" she suggested, leaning over (and pressing her breasts against him even more) to pick up some parchment from the floor. This ended any argument he may have wanted to make; Fleur handed him the paper and a quill before getting out of bed long enough to pick up the tray and bring it over to the bed, balancing it on both of them.
He scribbled a quick note. "Really?" she asked as she read it. He crossed out the last word, changing it. "Better," she noted approvingly before Harry struggled to sign it as she began another teasing assault on his senses, using her teeth to pull at his ear lobe and her hand to fondle his manhood.
"Ok," he squawked, "I'm done. Elf?" he asked cautiously, "could you show yourself please?" One of the Hogwarts House Elves popped into view, seemingly oblivious to what the teens were up to; Harry held out the parchment. "Could you take this to Ron Weasley or Hermione Granger please?" he asked as he wriggled at Fleur's antics. "They'll be at the Gryffindor table." The Elf snapped its fingers and disappeared along with his note.
"Now for breakfast; you need your energy for today's class," she told him coyly. "I expect another Outstanding."
"I wouldn't want to disappoint my favourite teacher." His reply sent Fleur into peals of laughter again, a sound he felt he would never tire of hearing.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
"Ronald, will you stop eating for one minute?" Hermione demanded hotly.
"What? I'm hungry," he protested.
"Harry wasn't at dinner yesterday, we didn't see him last night, he wasn't in your dorm this morning and he's not here for breakfast. In fact nobody's seen him since Fleur wanted a few words with him after Potions. Aren't you at all worried?"
At that moment a piece of parchment appeared between them; Hermione snatched it up and read it.
Ron and Hermione, I just wanted to send you a note to tell you not to worry about me, I'm fine, just having a couple of quiet days to recover from the task in the lake. I'll see you in class on Tuesday if not before.
Monday had been crossed out and replaced with Tuesday, she noted. The message was followed by a scrawl that may have tried to have been Harry but didn't really look like anything to the bushy-haired girl.
"See Hermione? Nothing to worry about," Ron told her as he turned his attention back to the mountain of food on his plate. Hermione huffed, looking around the hall; curiously Fleur wasn't visible among the Beauxbatons contingent.
Mademoiselle Delacour's bedroom,
"'Ave you ever 'ad breakfast nude before?" Fleur asked, curiously, delighting at the way it made Harry blush. She had nonchalantly walked from the bed to the table without dressing, eyeing him with an inviting, inquiring gaze as she sat down. He reasoned that there was little point in dressing in front of her, after everything they'd done the previous evening and what she had promised for the rest of the weekend, but he still felt a little awkward about it, though, he realised, not as awkward as he'd have felt getting dressed to eat breakfast opposite a naked girl.
"No, I don't think the professors would be too happy if I showed up in the buff," he joked.
"Ah, but ze girls in ze 'all, zey would love eet," she teased, smiling as he reddened further; he ignored her and turned to his breakfast.
"You were right, you know," Harry observed between bites of his meal, "surrendering to your allure made…" his blush was now crimson, radiating heat as he continued, "the sex even better."
"Zat ees ze Veela magic," she nodded calmly.
"The Veela's phenomenal beauty helps too," he added; to his disappointment Fleur seemed incapable of blushing.
It seemed as if Fleur had read his mind; she looked steadily at him and noted, "You cannot embarrass a Veela, mon cher, 'eet ees impossible."
"A challenge, I like it," he grinned, raising his cup of pumpkin juice. Fleur just smiled and shook her head, not wanting to discourage him and also curious as to what he would actually say and do. All part of his education, she mused.
"Fleur?" he asked as they finished breakfast. "Can you use your allure on me so I can practice throwing it off? I want to make sure I can totally resist the Imperious and I think that would help me to do it," his tone was serious as he met her eyes.
"Well today's class schedule was already quite full," she grinned at him; it fell a little as she saw how serious he was, "but we can definitely do zat zis weekend."
"Thank you." Then it was his turn to smirk. "I promise to surrender to it at least once today as well."
"At least?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "I like ze sound of zat. Now," she stood and offered him her hand, "'ow about a shower?" Understanding what she was suggesting he readily took her hand and let her lead him to her en suite.
"Do you want to try and throw eet off?" she asked as the water cascaded over them; Fleur had a bar of soap in her hand and was lathering his body, which was responding to her every touch and caress.
"I don't think I could fight anything off right now," he admitted, reciprocating with his own soap, taking his time and making sure to soap up every inch of her exquisite skin.
"I 'oped zat would be ze case," Fleur breathed, closing her eyes and flooding his senses with her allure. Animal instincts overtook Harry and he pinned her against the wall, entering her and pushing himself as far in as he could go. She winced at the sudden domination he was showing, having never used her allure at its full power on a boy before, but as it poured over her as well she soon relaxed into the frenzied sex. She retained sufficient presence of mind to redirect the shower's spray so that it continued to cover them, the droplets feeling like hot kisses and caresses as they cascaded over her hypersensitive flesh, rinsing away the soap lather from their bodies. The combined sensations soon pushed her to orgasm (shortly after Harry, though she knew that he would be able to keep going for as long as she kept up her allure.)
"Zat… was… amazing," she panted as they stepped out of the shower; had it not been for her Veela magic she was sure her knees would be wobbling, Harry's too.
"Was I too rough?" he asked fearfully; the magic now leaving his system and giving him the sexual equivalent of a sugar crash. "I'm sorry, Fleur, it just happened, I don't know what…"
"Shh," her finger covered his lips again. "Zat was my allure at full power. Zat was what came over you. I trusted you wiz eet and I was right to, mon cher. You are magnifique," and she sealed it with a searing kiss before handing him a towel.
He took her by surprise by using the towel to dry her, wiping the water gently from her body, tickling her with the soft, fluffy towel and spending plenty of time with her breasts and bum. When he was done she eagerly returned the favour, bringing Harry close to the brink again before leaving him hanging, groaning in sexual frustration as she led him back to her bed.
"'Arry, do you trust me?" she asked earnestly.
"Completely," he admitted, realising as he did that if she asked he would now spill his guts about everything from last year, Sirius, Buckbeak, the time turner, all of it.
"Good," she smiled.
Harry Potter discovered at that moment that, despite being a wizard, the boy-who-lived, the youngest seeker in a century and everything else that made him unusual, just sometimes he could be a regular guy. What caused that was his reactionary flinch as she Fleur pointed her wand directly at his nether regions. "Don't worry," she chuckled, firing a charm from her wand to his; he immediately felt a strange sensation down there, despite the amount of blood his body was firing to the area he felt numb almost.
"Eet ees just a numbing charm," she confirmed with a sultry smile, "eet weel 'elp you to last longer until you learn to do zat for yourself."
After a couple of seconds processing this he matched her grin. "Shall we try it out?" he asked innocently.
"I 'ave created a monster," she laughed, but pulled him on top of her.
"Again," he urged, after a quick shake of his head to clear it.
Fleur closed her eyes, pushing her allure further. Harry's eyes glazed over with the now now-familiar feeling of emptiness in his conscious mind. The unconscious voice at the back of his mind began as a whisper but strengthened as it urged him to fight, despite his consciousness telling him to give his body, his soul, his everything to Fleur. He felt himself leaning towards her, though he fought with everything he had to not do so. The Veela was pouring everything she could into her allure and watched as Harry's lips inched closer and closer to her own before stopping tantalisingly short of them. He sat stock-still for a few seconds, face contorted with concentration before she decided to cheat, reaching out and taking his manhood in her hand; this broke his resolve and he crashed his lips against hers. She wrapped her other arm around him and continued to kiss him, closing her eyes and letting her allure fall again. Harry pulled away from her involuntarily (though he couldn't go far given she had his member in one hand and her arm around his back).
"I lost again," he sighed despondently, looking into her brilliant blue eyes.
"I 'ad to cheat," she consoled him, tugging gently on him. His eyes widened as he realised where her hand was and what it was doing.
"Doesn't matter; Death Eaters won't play fair." He extricated himself from her, returning to his starting position. "Again?"
"Non, later," she declined. "I need to rest before I can use eet again and you need to rest too. We should eat first."
Fleur could tell that it was bothering him by the way Harry picked at his dinner. "Do not worry, mon cher," she encouraged him, "eet ees impossible for you to srow off ze allure at its full power; you managed it at close to full power for a long time before I cheated. Eef someone tries to control you, you weel resist."
He smiled his gratitude and began to eat with renewed enthusiasm.
Sunday, 27th February 1994
While by Sunday night Harry could still not throw off Fleur's allure on full blast (especially when she 'cheated' as well) he could now do so comfortably when she used anything less than full power; Fleur was thrilled (nobody is supposed to be able to resist a Veela's allure, she had explained, unless they truly love another with all their heart – not a situation that applies to many fourteen year olds, if any). He was exhausted, despite having never left the bedroom other than to use the en suite all weekend and Fleur was rather weary as well, though she was delighted with her student's progress over the last couple of days, both the physical side and also the mental; she loved teasing him and he was happy to give as good as he got, though he still couldn't get the French beauty to blush (she continued to insist that it was impossible, he continued to work to find a way).
"Fleur," he told her as they cuddled, basking in the after-glow of their latest bout of love-making, "this has been… amazing, incredible, mind-blowing. The… the sex we've had has been just… beyond anything I could ever have imagined. I can't believe how good it's been, and I can't imagine ever feeling this good again."
"Ah, 'Arry," she pulled him closer, "first I should say merci for ze compliment. But do not worry; ze raw physical side may not be as good with anuzzer but… when you are truly, deeply in love wiz someone – zen ze love-making will feel even better zan zis 'as."
His eyes widened before swimming out of focus. "I can't even begin to imagine how that would feel then," he told her, to her amusement.
Monday, 28th February 1994.
"'Arry, we need to get up," she told him sadly. "We 'ave classes shortly."
"Don't wanna," he mumbled groggily against her breast; realising what he was resting against he took it between his lips and began to suck on it.
"'Arry," she groaned, "you 'ave to stop zat or we weel never leave ze bed!"
"Good," he mumbled before returning to lavishing attention on her nipple.
Fleur sighed and picked her wand up from her bedside table; she let him suckle for a few more seconds before delivering a gentle stinging hex to his bare bottom, causing him to cease his ministrations and jump violently.
"Fleur!" he complained.
"We 'ave to get up, mon cher," she repeated regretfully. "Come on, let us 'ave breakfast 'ere and zen go. Ze elves weel breeng you clean clothes." No sooner had she spoken then breakfast, a clean uniform and clean robes for Harry appeared in the room; the things he'd worn on Friday disappeared to be laundered (he would find them neatly folded by his bed the next time he was in his dormitory).
"I don't want to leave," he complained as they finished breakfast. "This whole weekend, the experience, everything about it has been amazing, the best time of my life. Thank you Fleur."
"You're very welcome, mon cher," she told him sincerely. Truth be told she wasn't looking forward to going back to sleeping alone. "You 'ave been a fantastique student. Maybe we can 'ave a revision class before ze end of ze year, non?"
Harry wore a wide smile. "Definitely," he agreed.
"Now, get dressed, you need to go to class."
"Do I have to? I could happily spend the whole day in bed." When she raised her eyebrows he hurriedly added, "I meant to sleep. I've not had much sleep here, not that I'm complaining."
"Maybe I can 'elp wiz zat too," she mused, closing her eyes and bleeding out a little of her magic. Suddenly Harry felt refreshed; he gave her a questioning look. "Part of ze Veela magic," she explained, "to 'elp our mates we can give zem more energy."
"That makes a lot of sense," he nodded.
"Indeed," she grinned, "it would not do to keel zem in ze act."
Harry dressed and stood by the door. Thinking that she could read his thoughts Fleur tried to reassure him. "Don't worry, everyone ees at breakfast; zere weel be nobody to see us leave here togezzer."
Harry wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not; he surprised the girl by taking her hand and they walked together across the courtyard and into the school until they reached the main staircase; the hallway was deserted as classes had just started.
"I must leave you now," Fleur told him regretfully; her class was in a different direction. Harry pulled her into his arms and initiated a deep, passionate kiss.
"I can never thank you enough for this weekend, Fleur," he told her sincerely.
"And I can never zank you enough for saving Gabbi," she retorted, giving him a quick peck on the lips, wanting to prolong contact with him for as long as possible.
"I'll see you at lunch, I guess," he said sadly; they reluctantly pulled apart and Fleur watched him go, stealing glances as he ascended the staircase.
The one you love will be a lucky lady, my dear, Fleur thought with a small smile as she finally took her eyes from him and headed to Potions; she knew Snape would be grumpy as she had arrived late, she also knew that he and Harry didn't get on so upsetting the sallow-skinned grouch was something she could definitely live with.
History of Magic Classroom,
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
"Where have you BEEN?" Hermione demanded as he casually took the seat next to her (Ron was on her other side and suddenly jerked out of his stupor at Hermione's question and Harry's reappearance). Binns was already droning on and most of the class were getting an extra hour of sleep. The bushy-haired witch set her quill down and glared at her newly-arrived friend.
"Good morning Hermione," he greeted her idly.
"That's all you've got to say?" she whispered hotly.
"No but it's usually a polite start," he retorted; Hermione wasn't in the mood to have him try and teach her manners though.
"You were gone all weekend. All we got was a note saying you were relaxing after the task. Nothing about where, what you were doing. We were worried about you," she gave Ron a gentle punch to encourage his confirmation. He nodded reluctantly.
"Yeah, mate, we haven't seen you since your talk with Fleur."
Harry's face betrayed no emotion at his lover's name. "We hung out for a bit, talked a bit, even had dinner together on Friday. I think we both needed to talk about the task and what went on in the lake. She said she needed to thank me for rescuing her sister."
"Well where were you for the rest of the time?" the witch demanded.
"I told you, rest and recuperation after the task."
Much to Hermione's annoyance, Harry refused to go into any more details.
"Fleur!" Hermione had followed her out of the Great Hall after dinner and caught up with her as she was walking back to the carriage (Harry hadn't noticed as he was talking to Ron; by agreement he and Fleur had merely acknowledged one another in the Hall the way he did Cedric or Krum as fellow champions).
"'Ermi-knee, oui? 'Arry's friend but ze sing Viktor would mees ze most? Interesting combination, non?" she greeted her dismissively.
"I want to know what happened after you and Harry talked on Friday," she demanded, brushing her comments off. "I want your side of what you were doing all weekend."
Fleur felt a little put out at Hermione's words; in truth she supposed she couldn't be too surprised that Harry had bragged to his friends, but she had hoped that he'd had more decorum and hoped he'd been respectful to her at least.
"We 'ad a nice talk, a nice dinner and I sanked 'eem for rescuing Gabbi," she explained casually, not going into the details of exactly how she had thanked him.
"And that took all weekend?"
"I owed 'eem a great deal," she replied. "'ee was 'appy to let me zank 'eem."
"I'll bet," Hermione spat. "So what really happened? You used your allure and had him drooling like an imbecile? I'd have thought that would get boring rather fast, certainly by Friday night."
"Please, 'Ermi-nee," she countered, "'e could srow off my allure on Friday night. Eef 'e 'ad wanted to leave my bed before Monday, 'e could 'ave done so at any time over ze weekend."
"What? You? Harry? Bed? Weekend?" the bushy-haired witch stumbled over her words; Fleur's heart was warmed that Harry hadn't been bragging to everyone, though she now realised that she herself had let the cat out of the bag.
"Hmm," the French champion grinned, "eet seems zat you do not know 'Arry as well as you zink you do." Her smirk took on wicked qualities as she leaned closer to Hermione and added in a low voice, "at least, not as well as I know 'eem, non?" Seeing the English girl's scowl, Fleur's smile only widened. "Ahh, eet looks like someone ees jealous," she taunted before edging even closer to the girl and dropping her voice further, now to barely more than a whisper. "Ze question ees, are you jealous of me, or 'eem?" she asked before stepping back. "Or maybe both?" she finished with a small shrug before throwing the fourth year witch a rather scathing look, turning on her heel and walking away from her, leaving a stunned and increasingly irate Hermione Granger behind; snapping out of it the brunette tore off in search of the boy who lived.
AN: And there, gentle reader, we must leave this story. It is intended to just be a one-shot so I'm happy to leave it here and invoke 'death of an author' allowing all of you to decide in your own imagination how things turned out from here. Maybe the Harmony shippers think Hermione chases after Harry to tear a strip off him before asking him to share what he's just learned? Or you might like to think a newly self-confident Harry meets up with his team's chasers for a bit of Quidditch-themed fun. The wonderful thing at this point is your own imagination can run wild. I DO know how it turns out (and will write it if there's demand for it) but otherwise you can all draw your own conclusions from where we are now.
I hope you all enjoyed reading this and didn't find Fleur's Franglais too difficult to understand (and personally I think she exaggerated her accent a little knowing a lot of men find the French accent sexy); just try reading it in a French accent and hopefully it will make sense.
Reviews are always welcome; thank you for reading. PD