Fleur De Lis Chapter 14. (Patreon)

Content Warnings: Orgasm Denial, Breast Play, Teasing.

“Any guesses as to why he asked us to do this?”

“I guess he knows how irritating all the staring can be,” Fleur murmured. She stared around the dimly lit room, trying (and failing) to curb her growing nervousness. “Maybe he just wanted to thank you for your help with the First Task by giving us access to someplace private.”

Between Professor McGonagall's evening lessons and trying to figure out the clue in the Golden Egg they hadn't had a chance to take up Cedric's suggestion right away. But after a stressful week, both of them needed a way to unwind and had finally decided to pay the Prefect's bathroom a late-night visit.

“A bathroom doesn’t exactly scream romantic date to me, flower,” Harry teased.

Fleur blushed as his fingers brushed against the back of her hand. He did not hesitate in lacing their fingers together and she followed him deeper into the bathroom when he tugged on their enjoined hands. As much as she wanted to pretend her nervousness was all about the large bath in the room and the huge amount of water it’d hold when full, she knew (but would not accept) it was also about the kind, funny, and very hot man standing next to her.

He was the perfect boyfriend. Patient and gentle, caring but not overbearing. He took care of her with complete confidence and assumed control like he was born to lead.

She was a romantic klutz whose only contribution to their relationship in the one week since the Ball was to make sure his bag was always stocked with his favorite chocolate. She also liked seeing the pleased grin on his face every time she stole one of his shirts or cloaks but she also had her selfish reasons for doing that, having gotten in the habit of falling asleep with his comforting scent surrounding her.

The fact that he hadn’t cashed in his half of the bet only added to her jitters. He had won their first game the night of the Ball but she pouted and asked for a best of three, and he’d agreed. She won the second game and they drew the third, which meant they’d both technically won their bet. While her closet now had an impressive amount of clothes belonging to Harry Potter, he had yet to claim her as his in any official way.

“Hey.” His voice was soft and his touch gentle when he reached out to grab her chin and make her look at him. “I was joking. It’s quiet and private, it has the perfect lighting-” Harry gestured around at the candles floating in the air at strategic locations “-and you’re here. It’s the perfect date. Plus, Hermione assured me having a bath together is one of the most intimate things we can do.”

Fleur stared at him with wide blue eyes, her breath hitching as she imagined him washing her. His strong hands gently soaping up her-

“Unless.” His voice broke her out of her reverie. He paused and glanced at the large bath that was really the size of a small pool. “You don’t have to get in if you don’t want to. You can sit on the edge and watch me swim,” Harry murmured, leaning up to kiss her forehead.

“How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Be the perfect boyfriend?”

It was his turn to blush. “I’m not… I mean, I’m not doing anything different. I’m not great. I’m just taking care of you however I can.”

“I can’t even do that properly,” Fleur muttered, chewing her lower lip worriedly.

“Are you kidding me? The only thing that gets me through Snape’s classes is the chocolate you keep sneaking into my bag.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Harry gave her a look that said, ‘I know it’s you.’

“And the clothes-”

“I don’t see how stealing your clothes is taking care of you,” Fleur protested.

“It’s funny you say that because I still have the same number of shirts I had a week ago.”

“Okay, I guess borrowing is a better term for what I’m doing. I regularly return the shirts I take.”

“They’re new shirts, Fleur. I know I can be blind to obvious things at times but I’m not that dense,” Harry teased.

“I thought you didn’t notice,” Fleur replied, her pale cheeks coated with a pretty blush. “You never said anything.”

“Didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. You don’t have to replace the clothes you take, flower.”

“That’s not why I did it!” Fleur protested. “I don’t like that all your clothes are hand-me-downs from your cousin that don’t even fit you properly. You spend your money on me, Hermione… even Gabrielle. Nothing on yourself. You deserve nice things too,” Fleur said stubbornly.

He wrapped his arm around Fleur’s waist and pulled her closer, leaning in for a chaste kiss. “You’re the perfect girlfriend, Fleur,” Harry whispered against her lips.

“I can think of two reasons why you’re saying that,” Fleur teased with a giggle. She arched her back, pushing her large breasts against his chest.

While her sister had inherited the petite ballerina figure that was traditional with most Veelas, she had more of an hourglass figure and darker hair. She was an oddity. Wizarding Society would never fully accept her because of her Veela heritage but she wasn’t completely at home with her mother’s Veela clan either.

It was something she had always considered a disadvantage until she noticed the way Harry looked at her body.

“I hate it when maman is right about something.”

“Oh?” Harry raised an eyebrow.

“She told me that I’d stop caring what the world thought one day. I’d find my mate and their opinion is the only one that would matter.”

“Mate?”

Fleur nodded. “All Veelas have one. The person they’re most compatible with, the one that brings them the greatest amount of happiness. It’s… instinct. Maman has papa. I’m pretty sure Hermione is Gabrielle’s mate even though she keeps insisting that she’s only interested in Hermione’s cute ass.” Fleur paused for a second, then added shyly, “And I have you.”

“Well, I’d be honored to be your mate,” Harry said proudly despite the pink tinting his cheeks. “Although I hope both Fleurs consider me their mate.”

Fleur blinked in confusion.

“Sometimes I feel there’s two different Fleurs in you,” Harry explained. “One flirty and playful, who is proud of her Veela heritage. The other is shy and thoughtful. She is also proud of her heritage but doesn’t want to draw attention to it.”

“I’ve had to spend my entire life being careful,” Fleur said, digging her teeth into her lower lip hard enough to draw blood. What was he trying to say? Which Fleur did he prefer? What if she couldn’t be like that all the time?

“I… I had to watch what I said, what I wore, and even who I spoke to. Veela stereotypes are horrible,” Fleur laughed bitterly. “I don’t have a lot of friends because nearly everyone who is attracted to me can’t handle my Allure and those who aren’t are either jealous or worried that I’ll steal their partners. I haven’t dated because I never found anyone who thought of me as an actual person.” Fleur sighed. “And now I finally have you and you make me feel warm and confident and comfortable in my own body. But those old walls and fears don’t go away easily, Harry.”

“I’m not saying they have to. You’re perfect the way you are. But I feel you’d be happier if the two Fleurs stopped fighting for control.” Harry leaned up and kissed her forehead.

“Which one do you like more?”

“You don’t have to choose. I love them both. I like it when you’re quiet and I have to take care of you. I love it when you’re flirty and leave me breathless,” Harry said with a crooked smile. “I like all of you, Fleur Delacour.”

A loud sob broke the romantic tension.

Harry tightened his grip around her waist protectively and pulled her closer, both of them turning to look at the source of the sound.

“That was so beautiful,” the mermaid in the large painting occupying one of the walls of the bathroom said. She dabbed her eyes. “You have to kiss her now, idiot!”

Harry grinned and cupped Fleur’s cheeks.

“That’s my cue to go!” The mermaid giggled and darted out of the painting.

Before she could react his lips were on hers for a bruising kiss and she could only moan as a familiar haze settled over her mind. She floated away to her happy place in her mind and meekly submitted when Harry took advantage of her parted lips to push his tongue into her mouth. He coaxed her tongue into a playful duel and she shyly rose up to the challenge. Time seemed to freeze as their tongues danced and Fleur could have sworn she saw stars.

“Harry?” Fleur asked hoarsely when he finally pulled away for air. She was breathing heavily and ran her fingers over her bruised and swollen lips, her mind needing confirmation that she wasn’t dreaming.

“Hmm?”

“When are you going to cash in your part of the bet?”

“I thought I already did. You’re mine, aren’t you?”

“Oh.” He wasn’t wrong. She was his in every way that mattered. He’d eventually be her first and deep in her heart, she knew he’d be her last.

“I just thought it’d be something more formal,” Fleur explained in response to the confused expression on his face.

“You want me to do something proper to mark that we’re now a real couple, not just pretending to be one?”

Fleur nodded shyly.

She didn’t like the silence that followed. “I’m sorry. It’s silly. I mean, we’re already a couple and I’m asking you to propose.”

“It’s not silly to want a proper proposal.” Harry reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve just never done something like this before so I was trying to think of something special.”

“You’re not planning to get up on the table in the Great Hall and ask me if I want to spend the night in Hogsmeade, are you?”

“I’m not as brave as your sister. If she ever transfers, she’ll make a great Gryffindor,” Harry said with a laugh. “Our entire relationship has been in public. From your lie the night our names came out of the Goblet to me asking you to the Yule Ball on the castle grounds. I think you deserve a private, intimate proposal.”

“I’d like that,” Fleur whispered breathlessly. How had she resisted his charms for so long? The hungry look in his gorgeous emerald eyes made her weak in the knees.

The aura of power and quiet authority he projected flipped something in her brain. She was as proud a Veela as they came but something about Harry Potter made her want to be a very good girl.

She wondered what she’d do if he actually called her that.

Spontaneously combust, she thought, forgetting that she was completely fireproof.

“I wouldn’t mind if you just asked me to be your girlfriend,” Fleur suggested.

Then he can sweep you off your feet and hold you against his firm chest as you ride off into the sunset on a stallion.

Shut up, she scolded the voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like her sister’s.

“Nah. That’s what everyone does. You said you wanted me to formally claim you, yes?”

Fleur’s heart skipped a beat. “That was what I promised if you won the bet. You did, and you haven’t collected your prize yet. I don’t like breaking a promise,” Fleur said. She did not possess the courage to admit out loud that yes, she very much wanted him to formally claim her.

Harry took a step towards her. “The minute you want me to stop, I’ll stop. No questions asked. Okay?”

“Harry?”

Harry gave her a serious look.

“Okay. If I need you to stop I’ll tell you,” she promised. He was unbearably close. She felt hot, too hot. She either needed to get rid of her oppressive clothes or step away from him, but her body wouldn’t cooperate. So she stayed rooted in place as he paused mere millimeters away from her. Their noses and chests were touching and she could feel his breath tickling her skin.

“Do you remember what happened in that joint Care of Magical Creatures class Hagrid and Madame Maxime held?”

“No,” Fleur lied. She blushed when Harry raised an eyebrow, suddenly feeling very much like a naughty schoolgirl who had been caught in wrongdoing by the Prefect and was about to be punished for her misdeeds.

“Fleur.”

“It’s not a lie if I’m trying to forget what happened,” Fleur protested with a pout.

“Why are you trying to forget it?” Harry asked with a chuckle.

“Because it’s embarrassing! I thought you were Professor Hagrid.”

“You know, they say lies are bad for a relationship,” Harry teased as he played with the top button of Fleur’s blouse.

“Fine!” Fleur took a deep breath and gathered her courage. Despite her red face, she forged on. “I knew it was you. But you were teaching me and using that voice-”

“What voice?”

“The same one you’re using now,” Fleur whined. She had begun to rub her thighs together without even realizing it. “It’s not fair that you’re immune to my Allure but I’m not immune to yours.”

“I’m not a Veela!”

“You might as well be given the effect you have on me,” Fleur grumbled under her breath.

Harry laughed. “Okay. I was using the ‘voice’ while teaching you. Then what happened?”

“I had this funny feeling in my chest and I called you ‘sir’,” Fleur replied in a horrified whisper.

Harry grabbed the collar of her blouse and pulled her closer, eliminating the remaining distance between them. “Do you like calling me sir?”

Fleur considered lying again but her tongue simply wouldn’t cooperate.

“Y-yes,” she stammered.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir,” Fleur whispered, feeling a familiar warmth pool in her belly.

“Good girl.”

She didn’t spontaneously combust. Or maybe she did. She wasn’t sure what happened but by the time her vision had cleared, she was kneeling in front of Harry, her gaze fixed on the white marble floor of the bathroom.

She squeaked when Harry’s hand buried in her hair, freeing it from the ponytail she had secured it in.

“I dream about winding your hair around my wrist and using it to pull you up against my chest. I want to brush it every night before bed. It is mine,” his voice was soft as he gently ran his fingers through her silvery hair.

“It is yours, sir,” Fleur confirmed in a breathy whisper.

He got to his knees in front of her and kissed each of her eyelids in turn. “I want to be the first thing you see every morning and the last you see each night because I am yours.”

She’d have faced a thousand dragons if the prize for her bravery was to hear those words. “You are mine,” she murmured with a giddy smile.

Harry leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. “Who do these belong to?”

“You, sir.” Fleur groaned when he nipped her lower lip with his teeth. The sting caused the coil of tension in the pit of her belly to tighten further. He pulled away, leaving a swollen and throbbing lower lip in his wake, a physical sign of his claim that she could do nothing to hide.

Harry placed a hand on her shoulder and pushed her until her back was on the cold marble floor. Her breath hitched as he crawled up and straddled her waist, towering over her.

“Do you want me to stop?” Harry asked, slowly undoing the buttons of her blouse. He paused after every button, giving her ample time to stop him if she was uncomfortable.

I’d rather die.

Fleur shook her head. “No.”

Harry pinched the stiff nipple poking through the white and black striped one-piece swimsuit she wore underneath her uniform and twisted it gently.

“No, what?”

“No, sir!” Fleur squealed. Her hands flew to grab his arms and her fingers dug into his firm biceps as she stared up at him with big blue needy eyes.

She reluctantly pulled her hands away from him and pushed herself up on her elbows to help him take off the blouse. Her skirt was next and by the time she settled back on the floor, she was dressed only in flat ballet shoes, thin white translucent socks, and a modest one-piece swimsuit. It didn’t exactly scream sexy but it was the only swimwear she owned and she hadn’t had time to buy anything new. Her platinum hair flared around her head like a halo. She groaned softly when Harry climbed back on top of her, straddling her waist once more.

“Sorry.”

“For what?”

Fleur gestured at the swimsuit. “I asked Gabrielle if I could borrow one of hers but she told me to swim naked,” Fleur explained with a pout.

“Fleur, you’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” Harry whispered, leaning in for another kiss. “And I like the suit.”

Her words died in her throat as he slowly kissed down her creamy neck. She squeaked when he buried his face in the crook of her neck and wrapped his lips around her pulse point, lazily sucking an enormous hickey onto her alabaster skin.

If she thought her torment was over, she was mistaken.

He didn’t take off her swimsuit but he did move lower, kissing the bare skin above her breasts before wrapping his lips around a nipple poking through the thin fabric of the suit.

“Who gets to kiss, fondle, and suck on these?” Harry asked, his voice muffled.

“You do, sir.” She arched her back and cried out at the gentle pressure on her nub. Harry lazily sucked on the throbbing peak, nipping at it every so often to mix in a gentle sting with the growing pressure in her chest and belly.

Just when it was getting to be unbearable he pulled away, chuckling at her disappointed groan.

Please don’t stop, she begged in her mind, still too shy to make the request out loud. She watched him pull away from her, only to grab one ankle and then the other, resting her legs on his shoulders.

Harry gently pulled off her ballet flats and massaged her sore, aching soles.

She looked at him with a blissful, adoring smile, unable to believe just how good he was at taking care of her.

“Better?” he asked after a few minutes.

“Much,” she replied with a giggle.

Harry grinned and grabbed the edges of her socks, rolling them down her legs and tossing them away. He turned and placed a gentle kiss on her ankle.

“That’s yours too,” Fleur said without being prompted.

“Good to know.” Harry laughed. “I’ve spent so many classes fantasizing about your ankles, Fleur Delacour,” he teased, his emerald eyes sparkling with mirth.

Fleur pouted. “You’re teasing me!”

“Just a little.” Harry grinned. “But I’m glad your ankles are mine.”

He turned his head again and slowly kissed up her slender leg, slowly but surely making his way up to the gleaming skin of her thigh and the wetness coating it.

She tried to pull away, to shut her thighs before he could-

It was too late.

Fleur moaned as Harry’s lips brushed the inside of her knee on his way to her thigh. His playful nip caused her breath to hitch. Her back arched, pushing her crotch up in the air, her body deciding to make things easier for him.

“I’ll wipe it…” She said as she patted around for her blouse.

“Let me,” Harry murmured. He pressed his tongue against her thigh, the rough surface dragging across her soft skin as he slowly made his way right up to her crotch. Again and again, he repeated what he had done, lapping up her tangy arousal and enjoying her increasingly wanton moans.

She tried to wriggle away but he grabbed her hips with enough force to leave red marks on her pale skin, pinning her in place as he licked her thighs clean. He punctuated his licks with playful nips, each leaving a hickey in its wake and drawing a strangled scream from her lips.

“Can I?” Harry asked, his fingers staying a respectful distance away from the part of her swimsuit covering her pink folds.

Fleur blushed and nodded, unable to express in words how much she wanted him. She was his, she’d always be his but he didn’t seem like he’d ever take her for granted.

That was all she had ever wanted in her partner.

That and someone who’ll spank your juicy ass.

Go away! she grumbled at the voice in her head. This moment belonged to her and Harry alone, not some pseudo-person living rent-free in her head.

Harry carefully pulled her swimsuit aside, leaving her most intimate area bare to his eyes. He leaned in and buried his face between her thighs, kissing each plump lip that guarded her virgin pussy in turn.

“This is also mine,” he whispered without pulling away. “And I’ll claim it one day.”

“Yes, sir.” Fleur shivered at the conviction in his voice.

Harry traced her slit with his tongue in one long lick before pulling away. “You’re delicious,” he murmured, pushing her swimsuit back in place. He ignored her disappointed groan and grabbed her hand, gently pulling her up into his lap.

“Why’d you stop?!” Fleur sobbed, her entire body trembling with anticipation. She had been so, so close.

It seemed like Harry was in no mood to give her what she needed.

“Good things come to those who wait.”

Fleur pouted. “That’s a stupid saying,” she grumbled, nuzzling into his chest. “Good things come to those who have an amazing boyfriend with perfect lips.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.” Fleur grabbed a strap of her swimsuit, intent on letting the night proceed to its natural conclusion. What difference did it make whether she was taken on the floor or in bed as long as it was with him?

The door banged open and Harry wrapped his arms around her protectively, shielding her from view.

“See? I told you we wouldn’t be interrupting anything important,” Gabrielle said as she sauntered into the bathroom. Hermione shut the door and ran up to her girlfriend. “They’re fucking instead of working on the clue. Not like we’re ruining anything, they’ll probably fuck like rabbits in… Morgana!”

“Gabrielle.” Harry cleared his throat and then greeted the younger Veela again. “Hi.”

“How are you not a gibbering moron right now?”

“I’m… sorry?”

“Can’t you feel it?”

“Feel what?”

“This strange feeling. I feel like I’m walking through jelly and I can’t stop staring at Fleur,” Hermione murmured with a hint of pink gracing her cheeks.

“Her Allure is currently strong enough to render half the castle comatose. And you’re… just fine. Wow. Sister, never let your man anywhere near our clan’s Matriarch. She’ll cut him open to see what makes him tick. This is insane. Hermione is attuned to my Allure and even she can feel it. You don’t feel like something’s wrong?”

Harry shrugged. “I feel great, actually. Stronger and more confident than I have been in a long time. I feel like I can punch a wall and win.”

“Oh. Oh.”

Fleur’s brain had picked the worst possible time to shut down but even in its limited state, she knew that tone of voice was dangerous. “What?” she asked defensively, peeking over Harry’s shoulder.

“It’s your lucky day, Potter. You don’t get lobotomized by our Matriarch,” Gabrielle teased with a smirk.

“…thanks?”

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re remarkably resilient to the Allure. More so than anyone I’ve met. But you’re not immune.”

“He is. I can’t get my Allure under control and he’s still unaffected by it,” Fleur said with a frown.

“Do you know how maman takes papa to the small greenhouse behind the gardening shed before every important Ministry meeting?” Gabrielle asked with a smirk. Their papa found two things soothing. Nature and their maman. “He says the exact same things Harry just said after maman is done… pumping his courage.”

“Gabrielle!”

“What? It’s not like we didn’t know what they did. How else do you think they made us? You they probably made on a soft bed with nice sheets but I’m certain I was the result of a quickie-”

“Gabrielle!”

“Fine.” Gabrielle rolled her eyes. “The point being that when you go nuclear with your Allure it does affect Harry, just in an unexpected way.”

“Why are you here, Gabrielle?” Fleur asked with a frustrated sigh. As interesting as her sister’s observation was, she wasn’t really interested in the nuances of how her Allure affected Harry.

Why did someone always have to interrupt just as Harry was about to give her what she needed?!

“Oh. Right. We saw Crouch.”

Harry frowned. “Why did you go to St. Mungo’s?”

“We saw Crouch here, Harry. In Hogwarts,” Hermione said.

“What?”

“Hermione was stressed about tomorrow’s test so we met in the Astronomy Tower so I could, uh, pump her courage.” Gabrielle held up two fingers and made a pumping motion with them until Hermione grabbed her wrist and stopped her. “Right. Anyway, on our way back Hermione pulled out the Marauder’s Map to make sure we weren’t caught.”

“We saw Mr. Crouch on the castle grounds on it, Harry,” Hermione said seriously.

“Where was he going?” Fleur asked.

“The Forbidden Forest. He walked to the edge of the forest and disappeared off the map.”

“That’s impossible. Professor Dumbledore told me he’s being treated in St. Mungo’s. He’s under guard there to make sure no one can harm him. He can’t be here in Hogwarts.” Harry frowned. Something was very fishy but all they had were straws to grasp at.

“Maybe he broke out?”

“You can’t just break out of Mungo’s, Gabby,” Hermione said briskly. She ignored Harry and Fleur’s intimate embrace and sat down some distance away from them, pulling Gabrielle down with her. “The hospital is in London. Even if he did break out, how did he come here? The Knight Bus wouldn’t take him without his wand and he couldn’t have used any form of Muggle transport. Floo and Disapparation require mental fortitude and flying needs skill. All three are highly unlikely travel methods for a man in his condition.”

“What if someone brought him here?” Fleur suggested, stating the obvious and only possible remaining solution.

“Why weren’t they on the map with him?” Hermione challenged.

“Maybe they had reached the forest by the time you spotted Crouch. Did you see him enter the castle grounds again?”

“Didn’t get a chance to. We ran into Professor Moody on our way back to Gabby’s carriage. He confiscated the map from us,” Hermione said apologetically. “I couldn’t say no after he said it’d help him catch whoever attacked Mr. Crouch.”

“He also told us to maintain constant vigilance in the castle grounds.” Gabrielle rolled her eyes. “The way he talks, you’d think there are murderers hiding behind every hedge, just waiting to slit my throat.”

“He might have a point. Especially if whoever attacked Mr. Crouch is still in the castle. All of us need to be careful,” Hermione said seriously.

“The attack on Mr. Crouch and Harry’s entry into the tournament have to be related.” Fleur chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully. Her brain had decided to exit horny heaven and start functioning normally again. “He was a judge. It’s possible he found some evidence and the person wanted to silence him before he could tell someone.”

“Maybe we’re trying to find a connection that doesn’t exist. It could be that Mr. Crouch was attacked for a completely unconnected reason,” Hermione suggested. “Who has the most to gain once he is out of the picture?”

“Percy,” Harry said seriously. “He’s walking around like a puffed-up peacock, acting more important than he actually is. Apparently, they’re having him judge the Second Task.”

“Percy won’t kill Mr. Crouch just to advance his car… okay, maybe he will,” Hermione corrected herself. “I still think Fleur’s theory makes more sense.”

“So do I.” Harry rubbed his temples, trying to delay the onset of a headache he knew was imminent. “But I can only deal with one problem at a time. Professor Moody can take care of the investigation into Mr. Crouch’s attack. Fleur and I have a clue to figure out.”

All of them turned and stared at the two golden eggs resting innocently by the edge of the empty bath.

“Any luck?” Hermione asked.

“I doubt it,” Gabrielle smirked. “They haven’t even run the bath yet. Maybe we should stick around to make sure they actually work on making sense of the clue in the egg.”

“We are going to!” Fleur protested, her face red. “You know how difficult it is for me.”

Gabrielle nodded. “Are you sure you can’t figure this out in a nice shower? Veelas and large bodies of water don’t belong together.”

“Exactly. Which is why Harry was uh… uh…”

“Pumping her courage,” Harry offered innocently.

Fleur groaned and slapped his chest.

“Let she who hasn’t pumped her partner’s courage cast the first stone. Who am I to judge you?” Gabrielle teased as she stood. “Just remember to work on the clue as well. You barely have one month until the Second Task.”

Harry nodded seriously.

“And be careful, Harry,” Hermione added as she followed her girlfriend to the door. “There’s something seriously wrong. On top of everything Professor Moody is stomping around everywhere, looking like he wants to murder someone.”

“We’ll be careful,” Harry promised.

“Well, we’re going back to the Common Room. Gabby and I will wait for you two, okay? Come back as soon as you’ve finished deciphering the clue and tell us what you found. She walked out of the bathroom and shot the frustrated couple one last apologetic smile before closing the door.

“So,” Harry asked with a wicked grin as he turned to look at Fleur. “Where were we?”

Notes:

I've always loved the idea that as a defense mechanism, the Allure protects the Veela by enhancing the strongest emotion people feel while they look at the Veela, thereby incapacitating the person and making it difficult for them to harm the Veela. For most people, it's lust. But when Harry looks at Fleur he feels love and a desire to take care of her. He can resist the Allure to a great extent but at the highest levels it gives him the confidence to act on these feelings! I have lots of headcanons like these and it's fun to have an opportunity to include them in stories!