Alice Longbottom trailed behind the two young wizards, a satisfied smile gracing her pretty face. Even though the young men ahead stared at the vast corridors of the muggle reception hall with open-eyed wonder, she wasn't that impressed with the sprawling muggle hotel that French Ministry had accommodated for the dueling participants. Neither the wizard nor the witches of all nationalities made her swoon like some young witch.
She wasn't that easy to impress. Not anymore.
"Who do you think that is?" Neville's query caused her to look toward where her son was pointing, eyes narrowed at the distinguished-looking couple's statue made of icicles. Statues so big, both of the lifelike heads were almost to the same point as the third floor.
What's the fascination of the French ministry with ice, anyway? She still remembered the overdose of icy greetings that she faced one time at Beauxbatons.
"Probably the Flammels. They are worshiped here, I heard."
"You mean like the philosophers st—"
Her eyebrows raised as her godson elbowed Neville and shushed him from uttering any more syllables, a pointed look passing between the two boys.
Alice's eyes tightened imperceptibly. Her temper ignited just remembering the boys' first year's incident, nostrils flaring remembering Dumbledore's careless shrug of explanation after the irresponsible turn of events that befell Neville and his friends. She took deep breaths; no need to dig up unpleasant events.
"Excuse me, Madam. This way, please."
Alice turned toward the smartly dressed wizard, who pointed toward the reception desk where some stragglers were milling around. Giving the young man a small smile of gratitude, Alice looked back to Nevile and Harry one last time before trudging alongside their handler.
From the corner of her eyes, she could see the young wizard glancing at her from time to time, averting his eyes before she could catch him in the act. A smirk formed on her face. The extra thirty minutes preparing herself was well spent it seemed. First Harry glanced at her tight-fitted traveling cloaked body after tumbling from the floo, now this guy—unfortunately for the handsome young wizard, she had been spoiled by such grandness that day, she feared she would be disappointed by anything less than thereafter.
And she also was the mentor of her son, here. A responsibility big enough to demand most of her time.
Her absentminded stroll brought her toward half a dozen beautiful witches inside the reception cubicle, each gorgeous and well-dressed. No doubt another attempt at peacocking by the French. She almost snorted, shaking her head. Putting half a dozen barely out-of-school young witches on the forefront as eye candies — Alice wondered if that was some old perverted leader's prerogative.
"Bonjour, Can I have the participant's name, madame?" The accent-less English was also very impressive.
Alice Longbottom smiled at the busty brunette, before thanking her escorting wizard with a wave and saucy smirk, causing the wizard to burst into a furious blush.
"Neville Longbottom, Britain."
A conversation in broken English beside her between a middle-aged bronze-skinned wizard and another blond witch dragged her attention while the witch in front of her rummaged through her enchanted dossier.
She tapped her finger over the laminated surface of the cubicle, curbing a small yawn before two small golden keys were pushed toward her.
"Fifth floor, east wing, beside the lift and the last door." The brunette gave her a professional smile. "May I have the name of the mentor? For security reasons." The receptionist added when she opened her mouth for a rebuttal.
Damn! Hopefully, her ill-thought-out plan wouldn't come back to bite in her derrière. She had imagined that she wouldn't be questioned any further after the form that every participant had to fill out and send a few weeks before with all details of participation, but the reality turned out quite different…
Alice cleared her throat. "It's Alice Longbottom, participant's mother and… Harry Potter… training partner." She mumbled the second part and tried to make that as unintelligible as possible, but the witch seemed to have a better hearing than her estimation.
"But there's no Harry Potter filled here in the form." Alice grimaced at the tone of accusation. "You have been provided with just two rooms according to your—"
"It's a last-minute decision," Alice said, a slight note of panic entering her voice. "We weren't sure if he would be free…"
"Apologies, madam, but we have rooms accommodated according to the information provided. I have to inform my supervisor—"
"Wait… no need for that. They are as good as brothers, you see." Alice turned around and found the two boys at the foot of the Flammel statue, with Harry prodding the mythical wizard's robes with his wand while Nevile tried to drag him out of his self-imposed mission. "Neville will be terribly upset if Harry had to leave. And with his fame, I don't want the press to find and create headaches for…"
Alice turned back toward the receptionist to see her staring at the pair of boys, biting her lips absentmindedly. She didn't need to be a genius to figure out exactly who had captured the young witch's attention.
A smirk forming on her face, Alice Longbottom tut-tutted. "Thick as thieves, them. They are like this from their nappies, you know. It would be a shame to let him go, If only—"
The young brunette dragged her eyes from her observation, indecision marring her pretty face.
"Harry was so stoked to see the magical sites here, with a proper knowledgeable guide…and he will have so much free time after the tournament starts…"
Alice grinned internally as a hopeful look replaced the hesitating one on the brunette's pretty face. Her eyes glanced at the nameplate that was attached to the enormous chest of the beautiful girl.
"So, Roxanne…"
-oOo-
Harry ignored the attempt of his godbrother to haul him backward, fascinated by the cascade of enchantments woven together along with the transfiguration to hold all the mass and intricate shape of the huge-ass statues, made of fucking ice of all things. A marvel of transfiguration and enchantments, two subjects that he was truly interested in, presented in front of him like an all-you-can-eat buffet. The problem was that even his immense knowledge of those subjects failed him in the instant—he couldn't make any leeway about how would you conjure this amount of ice and maintain it in that state while putting so many enchantments over it without breaking the laws of magical thermodynamics.
Does Beauxbatons teach their students this kind of thing? Harry wondered if Hogwarts boasting as the premier school of magical Europe was just that — an empty boast.
How can you call yourself the best school and still employ Snape and Binns?
And didn't Beauxbatons also allow their native veelas to attend there? He had seen a few pictures of them and by Merlin—they were something else.
Is it too late to exchange school? Damn, he doubted his mother would allow him to trapeze to the continent to continue his education.
Even though his pride as a Briton smarted at his admission of French superiority, the thought of superior knowledge and girls with pillow-like titties swung his opinion toward butter and croissants over beans and pudding in this instant.
"I'm sure the organizers would love to know their hard work has someone mesmerized."
Harry sprang back from his prodding, whirling around and flushing slightly to see his godmother smothering a full-blown smirk.
"Well… this is quite intricate and complex and…" Harry shrugged helplessly, blushing a bit as Aunt Alice shook her head.
"I don't think Lily would agree," Alice said, and Harry grudgingly admitted that she had a point. His mother's talent with charms and enchantments was certainly legendary among the wizarding populace. Too bad she never showed him the truly esoteric types of her knowledge.
"Umm… so, where do we need to go?" Harry asked with nonchalance as if his godmother hadn't just caught him fretting over a magical statue.
Harry stealthily shuffled beside Neville, standing shoulder to shoulder with his childhood friend who had stopped tugging his shirt after his mother's arrival.
"Here, take this. And go to the fifth floor, right of the lift. There are little numbers here, you see." Alice pointed out to the two boys after they had taken their keys. "Touch your wand once here, and it will pick your magical signature from here on so your rooms will open with your wand after."
"Strange. A protean charm and what extra—"
Alice cut off his examination of the small object, a teasing smile tilting her voice. "Sorry love, I would love to discuss the ingenuity of their charms but I have to go to the dueling arena and submit a few forms."
"Yeah, sure…" Harry coughed as his godmother put his hands on his cheek and pinched there.
"Why don't you put your bags in your room and then visit the magical district of Paris? They have made an archway right there." She pointed toward the left where a narrow corridor was particularly populated. "But don't stay till too late."
Harry grinned. The anticipation of visiting a new magical place helped him to forget his earlier embarrassment.
"M…Mom, will you join us?" Neville asked while Harry was already turning toward the lift.
"Sorry, dear. I'm not sure how long the registration would take."
And with a wave at him and Neville, the blond witch strolled back toward the reception area, her ass sashaying in their tight confines, unwittingly dragging a few wizards' eyes. Harry included.
Harry took hold of his godbrother's arms and swung him away from his mom's departing visage before the guy could get a whiff that other wizards were perving on his mom.
"Comm'n Nev. Let's see if there are any veelas around. Isn't that your reason to perform well here?"
"But…but…" His godbrother stammered as he dragged him toward the lifts but Harry wasn't surprised when his pace picked up beside him. Not surprised at all, because it was Neville who got his hands on the Veela edition of Playwizard somehow last year and showed it to him.
This was what a training partner was supposed to do, wasn't it? Encouraging his mates towards the finer things in life?
-oOo-
Soft sounds of waves crashing against the golden sand lulled the quartet into a trance, with the eldest of the witches, Andromeda Tonks now Black staring through the sprawling veranda, mesmerized by the scenery of Plages Des Dunes.
"I have to say Narcissa, Malfoys really have some fine taste."
Narcissa Malfoy preened at Anastasia's praise. The awed looks shared by her sisters and the Greengrass matriarch swelled her chest in pride, considering she was the one to pick this location for Lucius to acquire.
"I am sure Harry would also love to frolic in the sand with us." Andi finally dragged her gaze from outside, turning around to face the other three witches sitting on the couch.
"And how would he come here? I'm sure Alice wouldn't just allow us to bring him here without fuss."
Narcissa grimaced at the truth in Ana's words. They might have come to this magnificent place without obstacle, but their true aim would be much tougher to accomplish, she feared.
"And how would we sneak him here for a longer period of time anyway? Surely Alice won't be that busy?" Anastasia asked no one in particular. Though her gaze repeatedly wandered toward Andromeda.
Narcissa grouched mentally. It's she who should lead this… this… retrieval of their beloved. Not her sister! But Daphne's mother had already picked her sis, it seemed.
"Prolonged time?" Andromeda Tonks threw her head and started cackling like a hyena. Another thing Narcissa hated about her eldest, always making them look stupid. "I doubt you could last fifteen minutes if Harry really gets in the groove. Why Narcissa, isn't that true?"
"I doubt you were any better!" Narcissa spat, though there was a note of uncertainty in her voice. She had taken no lover after Lucius's death. Partly due to uninterest and also lack of suitable choices of her standings. She looked at the other three. Two with long marriages and another with a proclivity to spread her legs for any attractive wizard. Would her long abstinence turn out a hindrance, here?
"Can we stop quarreling like schoolgirls and be matured for once?" Bellatrix asked before she flushed when three of them turned their deadpan eyes in her direction.
"What?" Bellatrix shrugged off her shoulders along with her embarrassment, like always, and sat up straighter. "I have got hold of the coordinates of the place where all the participants will remain, along with the timetable of the age-group-wise competition." She produced a few sheaves of parchments from her purse and slapped them on the coffee table, grinning victoriously.
"That's wonderful, Bella!" Narcissa snorted as Bellatrix puffed up in pride at Andi's encouragement. What's so special about that? She could have done the same and she wasn't some world-famous duelist.
"We need to monitor Harry during his stay and observe his habits. If we get a clear picture of that we can plan accordingly after. I will personally visit him when he's without Alice's presence and entice him to join here—"
"Why you?" Narcissa cut her eldest, glaring at her for again taking initiative and taking the best part. "Why not me—" As Bella and Ana stared at her pointedly, she ground out. "—or them?"
"My dear Cissa, who had spent the entire week with him alone? And whom do you think can convince him to sneak behind Alice's back?"
Narcissa had no answer to Andi's mocking tone, just glaring at her petulantly.
"As I was saying, we need someone to volunteer as the shadow of young Harry, and report that back to us." Andromeda's voice gained a frosty tone. "And she also needs to make sure some French bitch doesn't get some ideas and think that wizard meat is for the taking. We need to keep all the sluts away from my future husband!"
"So, who's going to trail him?" Anastasia asked before she gulped as three pairs of eyes stared right back at her. "What…" There was a nervous tremor in Daphne's mother's voice.
"Bella would be as subtle as an elephant in the China shop, Narcissa's help is needed here and I already have my own assignment of convincing him so that only left…"
"M…Me?"
For the first time that day, Narcissa felt a sliver of affection for her eldest sister. She would have hated it if that bitch had asked her to do the same. Finally, Anastasia's presence would be a boon for her.
Narcissa kept a straight face as a despondent Greengrass matriarch hauled herself from her seat, before stopping at her eldest's warning.
"No witch near him, remember that!" Andromeda loomed over her fellow blond, violet eyes deadly serious.
"Oh! Another thing…"
Narcissa's eyes widened as Andromeda pointed her wand straight at Greengrass's matriarch's face, before swishing it like a fencer on an overdose of enhancement potions.
"Ouch! What the hell…"
Narcissa was now doubly thankful for dodging that bullet. She was still congratulating herself on her lucky escape when a voice from her enchanted bag caused her to groan out loud.
"So when are you going to put me in the master bedroom, Narcissa?"
"Right now, Mother!"
-oOo-
"Why don't you lift your bangs a bit and see the magic."
Harry watched as his brother in all but name plastered his hair even thoroughly over his forehead, looking ridiculous doing so.
"Stop that, mate!"
"Well, I don't want my popularity to—"
"For fuck's sake, you aren't searching for a wife here. If a girl is intrigued by the lightning bolt then so be it. At least it will come in handy for once."
Harry just shook his head as Neville stubbornly refused to take his heed. All that press coverage and hounding by reporters especially that Rita Skeeter, had really messed up his mate's head it seemed. Honestly, if he had offed that murdering bastard in his childhood then he would have taken full advantage of his stardom. And dealing with Rita Skeeter—Heehe, rather than evading her as Nev does, he would have asked her something in return for an interview. Something that the glasses-wearing blond would surely agree to.
He felt hopeless just in the presence of his timid friend, decidedly not thinking he was even shyer and hopeless than Neville just a few months prior.
That's in the distant past, anyway.
Changing their clothes after putting their bags in their rooms, the boys had met at the lobby of their hotel before following Aunt Alice's instructions and stepping foot inside the distractingly gorgeous magical alley of Paris—so different from their crooked, old Diagon that it was a like a different world altogether. Before searching for even more beautiful things that French Alley offered they filled their belly with a ham and fried egg sandwich with a ridiculous name—Crotch Madam or something from an eatery. Why not just call it a ham sandwich?
Though he grudgingly admitted it tasted better than any ham sandwich he had ever tasted back home.
First magic, then girls, now architecture and food—Harry hoped his excursion across the channel wouldn't crush his notion of British superiority anymore.
Harry was strolling absentmindedly, barely taking in the shops spaced perfectly all around the broad alley when his godbrother made a strange choking sound, clutching his hand so tightly, Harry feared he would cut his blood circulation off the limb.
"What man—"
His impatient whisper and glare were silenced when his companion pointed across the street, where three witches around their ages were laughing about something.
Harry once looked at the group before he did a double-take. His eyes took in the women properly.
Well, no wonder his godbrother is hyperventilating.
The woman on the left with wavy black hair and soft, delicate features was certainly noteworthy, while the small redhead with an enormous rack reminded him of what little Ginny might look like in a few years—but either of them wasn't enough to turn his friend into a gasping wreck. Turn his head, sure, but imitating a gasping fish? Nah! The cause of Neville's descent into animal-like grunting became obvious the moment Harry focused on the witch standing between them. Straight blond hair almost to her hips, with an unnatural silvery sheen, features perfectly symmetrical with a thin nose, large blue eyes, and perfectly pouty lips ornamenting an oval face, not to mention tall, willowy frame wrapped in a blue sundress, Harry would bet his recently enlarged height over his hunch of the said girl causing his godbrother's momentary brain deadness.
A fucking veela, already? Though there was a glaring difference between the images that he had seen—
"Harry!" Harry winced as Neville whisper-yelled in his ears.
He turned toward Nev to see him staring at him with wide eyes as if having witnessed the most precious thing in his entire fucking life.
"Mate, is she?" Neville nodded in her direction, causing him to let out a tired huff.
"Yeah, Nev. Count your lucky stars. Your wish got fulfilled just within an hour."
"But… but… what if she isn't? I mean what if she is just another beautiful—"
Harry raised his hand, stopping his friend. "I get that every witch here looks like a fucking supermodel. But look at her hair. That glow can't be normal. And look at the others also." Harry pointed toward the scattered wizards of all age around the alley who was also sneaking discreet glances the blond's way.
Neville Longbottom gulped after getting his confirmation, eyes again glued to the beautiful girl. A small whine left his lips when the trio turned on their heels and entered the shop they were standing in front of, almost leaving a magical residue after their departure.
"Let's go there, Harry!"
Harry was surprised by Neville's proposal. He had thought Nev would be too much of a pussy for that kind of daring. He only showed his lion's heart when the school was in danger or Voldemort was involved, not in front of a girl.
I guess, I'm not the only one who has changed.
The problem was that he had changed too drastically, way more than his godbrother. Now standing at six-one he was just an inch taller than Neville who had been always half a foot taller than him throughout their puberty. And considering the sheer confidence that his recent activities had granted him, Harry feared he would only eat away any chance his godbrother would have with the veela. Now Harry would have certainly liked to talk with the redhead who looked like a younger clone of Molly Weasley, but he wasn't sure what the veela's reaction would be to him flirting with her companion.
Girls think in mysterious ways. That was his observation from his recent sexcapedes.
But he didn't think him pointing that out to his nervous mate would do his confidence any good.
"Sorry, mate. I have no experience with girls." Harry stopped himself from grinning and giving away the truth. "I would only mess your chance there with your dream girl."
"She isn't my dream girl!" Neville blushed. "I just…just…"
"Yeah, sure," Harry said, winking exaggeratedly. "And I use the same magazine every night with the veela pictures."
"Shuddup Harry!"
"Just go there and talk with her, dude. You are the fucking boy-who-lived. Girls should grovel before your magnificence."
All he got was a hard shove in his sternum for trying to cheer up his friend.
"I would be around. Just pull up your bangs and roam around the trio. I bet they would start the conversation. They are probably here for the tourney, as well."
"But what should I say?"
Harry shook his head at his friend's panic. "You have gone on dates with Hannah and Katie. But, they went horribly, didn't they? So just ask different things than your previous two disasters. Though what would I know? Dating virgin here, remember?"
Harry clapped Neville's back a few times before shoving him toward the shop that three witches had entered earlier, giving him a discreet thumbs up.
His chest swelled in pride as his godbrother squared his shoulders before walking toward the glass door that Harry could now identify as a boutique, donning an expression similar to that time that he had walked inside the black fire in their first year.
That determination on Neville's face fled when he tripped on empty air almost crashing into an old lady who was walking by.
Fuck!
Harry shook his head, watching Nev smooth his bangs before entering the magical boutique. The boy-who-lived almost stumbled inside the fancy place more like a boy now lost. Harry chortled at his inner joke. He had never seen the usually shy boy so smitten by a girl, especially after seeing someone only once.
It almost reminded him of… Harry blanched. Surely he was never that pathetic.
Yes! You were.
Harry shut up his inner, insecure self, having overcome that phase handily. He should have gone there as an emotional support to his bro but his own inflated ego and estimation of his attraction aside there was another reason that he refrained from going there.
Yes, he might have been a hindrance to Neville's chances with the veela but honestly, Harry had no intention to woo the veela or even trying to, for once. The young woman was certainly beautiful—almost painfully so but her beauty didn't leave him speechless, did it? And Harry realized why that was. The magazine that Neville showed him last year also featured a woman of similar beauty and aesthetics but not identical, is it? There were some glaring differences. The moving image of the silvery blond had given him an instant hard-on last year but now…
He craned his head back, chuckling as another group of young witches entered the posh-looking workshop.
Wait, is it a witch-only place?
Harry surely hoped his godbrother won't be evicted from that place with a red face. His fame would be a double-edged sword in that case. He could already imagine the headline.
Boy-Who-Lived caught sneaking inside a female store—
"Ooomph!"
A small blond mass collided with his groin while his head was turned back, with a solid temple bludgeoning against his knob before an icy feeling enveloped the front of his trouser.
Shit!
Harry winced, eyes prickling at the unexpected assault on his manliness. His watering eyes glared at the blond mass sprawled in front of him before he tried to hide his pain.
"Ouch! My head hurts!" A young girl, barely eight or nine groaned out, rubbing her temples with one hand while the other one held a cone of dark sludge. She glared at him cutely before holding her hand upwards almost as if expecting him to do her bidding at once like he was her servant or something.
Not likely, you little ungrateful—
"Gabby!"
Harry broke the small glaring contest with the little girl before glancing upward, staring open-mouthed as a woman bustled her way toward them. A woman who literally took his and every other wizard's breath around the alley.
Fucking hell!
The same long silvery tresses, perfect otherworldly features just like the girl from a few minutes earlier except—the cantaloupe-sized melons that strained and wobbled inside cream-colored designer robes, curves obvious and titillating enough to induce a heart attack in any straight male.
Now this is a real veela, just like the magazine; not like the slim, downgraded version whom Nevile went gaga over.
"Maman!"
Harry's eyes widened as the little brat whined from her sprawled-out position, already dreading the woman's reaction to him sending her daughter's ass over the kettle.
Harry quickly swooped down and gently took hold of the blond girl, righting the brat and checking if she had broken her skin anywhere.
A sweet, flowery fragrance almost made him lightheaded as the perfection of femininity stalled beside them and hugged the little girl to her, babbling assurances to her in a baby voice.
Harry, with a large chocolaty stain around his trouser's groin, shuffled nervously, ruffling his hair, which had grown quite long over the summer.
After checking the little girl over and making sure she was alright, the beautiful woman finally turned her attention toward him, staring him straight in the eyes.
Harry's breath hitched as sky-blue eyes met his emeralds, unflinchingly, noticing in the back of his mind that the woman was quite tall, almost similar to his mother.
With supreme effort, he stopped his eyes from dipping lower and taking a sneak peek, his lips curving into what he hoped was a charming smile.
"I am so sorry about my daughter." Harry groaned in the back of his throat. Even her voice sounded perfect. "She never listens to me when her elder sister is around."
Harry silently thanked his mother for forcing him to study French and conversing with him regularly even when he used to whine at her efforts of teaching him a foreign language. If he couldn't understand French because of his laziness and missed the chance to converse with a living, breathing Aphrodite, then he would… he would…
Even the thought was too traumatic to express.
"Oh well, no harm done, really," Harry said, his hands unintentionally going back toward his head, on the verge of ruffling his hair again. "No harm done." Harry smiled.
"Oh, no! She ruined your trousers." Harry's eyes widened as the woman's hand almost shot straight at his groin as if she wanted to swat the stain away. But at the last second, she seemed to realize her actions, her hand stalling and bunching into fists. Harry wasn't sure if he was upset at losing the opportunity to get touched by the blond goddess or relieved that she hadn't smacked at his smarting cockflesh.
"I will get it changed. No worries." Harry's reassurances were overlooked as the woman turned toward her daughter, who was blowing him a raspberry behind her mom's back before scolding her. "Gabby, look at that! You wasted the young man's pants. That was so irresponsible of you! Running around the busy street—"
"Please, ma'am, no need to scold her. If little children become responsible, then who would be mischievous? Us adults?"
Harry smiled as the veela giggled at his joke, even though internally he was sure the little hellion deserved a bit of chewing up from her mum.
"But maman…maman… what about my ice cream?" Harry watched with wide eyes as the little girl brought tears almost magically into her eyes, hiccuping slightly. "I want that, maman. You promised if I am a good girl…"
Harry was astonished as the little girl turned the table on her mom, crying crocodile tears while said mother grimaced, before smiling beatifically at her daughter, her anger disappearing faster than the summer in Scotland.
"Of course, sweetheart." The woman patted her daughter's head before turning to him. "Please, let me treat you with a desert. As an apology. The owner is my friend and the best patisserie here, Mr…"
"It's Potter. Harry Potter." Harry paid close attention and, except for a slight raising of eyebrows, the veela kept her beautiful smile. "Really, you don't have to treat me or anything."
"But I insist!"
Harry should have protested more vehemently, but the renewed mocking of the little girl behind the woman's back along with the promise of spending even more time with the veela mother… Fuck propriety!
As he just shrugged and nodded at her proposal, causing the woman to give a large winning smile, Harry realized the thing he found lacking in the previous young veela… Well, things actually.
Motherly love and compassion… what else?
"My sweet pea!"
A short, balding man had somehow sneaked into their vicinity while they were busy conversing, smiling at the older and the little veela with honest warmth. Harry opened his mouth, a sharp retort on the tip of his tongue at the audacity of the wizard—
"Papa!"
"Jean!"
What?
Harry watched as the little blond jumped into the man's open arms, burrowing her face in his stomach. Surely this man wasn't married to this beauty?
As if to answer him, the blond goddess leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on the man's lips, almost causing him to faint in shock.
How….? The pair of veelas rattled to the now identified man the events that unfolded which Harry barely listened to with one ear, his brain still scrambled by the knowledge that this veela was married to this… this…
He shouldn't foster such uncharitable thoughts regarding a man he had just met, especially since he himself was bullied for his size previously, but fucking hell, wasn't it unbelievable?
Harry surveyed the man. The acromantula silk of the highest quality, along with the gold-plated cane—an obvious demonstration of immense wealth screamed to the entire world.
Maybe that's the reason…
"Thank you, young man, for looking after my daughter." Harry stared as the man put forth his hand for a shake, smiling at him with gratefulness.
"Please don't thank me, sir." Harry was too shocked to hear what the veela had said to her husband that he thought to thank him. But he really shouldn't be thanking him. Especially with the thoughts that were swirling in his head regarding the man's wife.
"Nonsense!"
"Jean, why don't you look for Fleur? That girl will spend her entire allowance if left unchecked. I will take Gabby for a refill at Selena's."
"Hope to meet you again, Mr Potter."
No, you don't. Harry doubted the wizard would really want him around his wife.
Then the wizard waved at Harry and his family and went toward the same boutique as Neville.
Surely not a coincidence?
Harry stepped beside the voluptuous veela's side who had taken hold of her little girl's hand in a vice grip. He stealthily fished out his wand and waved it over his groin while the mother-daughter duo was chattering beside him. No point in strolling with a giant brown stain on his pants.
Now that the husband was away, he hoped to turn on his charm on the veela.
Besides, it shouldn't be that difficult to seduce a married witch, who must be clearly unsatisfied. He would know. Hmm… all that experience surely would help him here.
Hope Neville's having as much success as me with his veela.
-oOo-
"What! Really?"
Harry had to stop himself from grinning as the little terror gasped after hearing the reason for his arrival in France. Finally, being the godbrother of the boy-who-lived, paid dividends.
"You must be really impressive with your wand, then?"
Rather than answering her immediately, Harry delicately cut a corner of his Le Merveloux or something that the blond had ordered for him, before putting it into his mouth, savoring the layers of flavor that burst inside his palate.
Licking the chocolate that had escaped his lips, Harry stared straight at the blond's eyes.
"That's something that a lot of witches can testify."
A slight red flush appeared on her cream-colored cheeks, blue eyes widening at his innuendo, but much to Harry's disappointment, the veela spun her head and deprived him of the view.
Harry took the opportunity with both hands, pushing back his high-backed chair which barely made a sound over the colorful rug. The new position of his seat allowed him to sprawl his legs sideways and lean back but remain within the blond's vision, his crotch area could be clearly seen if the woman just stared downward. Now just one glance at his ding-dong and he would be inside the perfect representation of femininity, coveted by the entire wizarding world. Good thing she sent her husband away. She was probably as horny and frustrated as Aunt Andromeda had been by her looser husband.
Not for long though…
"Maman, can we meet Neville Longbottom? Please, pretty please?"
"Gabby, I'm not sure—"
"Why not? I can arrange that easily." Harry cut off the veela's attempt at placating her daughter. "I'm sure Neville will be stoked to meet his little fan," Harry smirked as Gabby whooped in joy, though her mother kept looking away from him as if deciding to curb her desires by not sampling what he offered. He couldn't let that happen now, could he?
Harry pushed his right leg against the blond woman, who was sitting at his immediate right, sipping from a cup of coffee, while looking at her daughter babbling away about all the books of Neville Longbottom that were her favorite. Harry hummed and hawed at Gabby's chatter while pushing his legs under the table which finally bumped against the veela, his knee colliding with her left thigh through the layers of clothing between them.
She finally turned around to look at him, giving him a wide-eyed scandalized look. Harry raised his eyebrows in response.
She went back to sipping from her cup, but this time she didn't pretend that he wasn't there. And Harry took that as a minor victory.
Harry, buoyed by his momentary victory, bumped his knee against her thighs again and slowly rubbed the same place while giving her a challenging smirk.
"So, Mrs. Delacour, what do you do in your free time?" Harry asked while rubbing his leg against her. His elation knew no bound when the woman's breath hitched before she breathed deeply as if controlling herself from jumping him.
"I look…look after our vineyards in my husband's absence." The veela stared straight ahead to another table, her teeth clenched together.
Harry had heard that Veela's were pretty unrestrained, especially when it came to carnal passion, now that he saw the woman gritting her teeth and averting his eyes, he was absolutely thrilled to confirm their veracity.
Let's see how much she can restrain herself before that inevitable explosion of passion.
Harry leaned back as far his seat allowed while subtly raising his hips, a clear outline of his half-aroused penis would be visible if the veela looked downward just once.
"I would love to see them. Maybe I could be convinced to do the manual work, there. But I should warn you, madame, I would want something other than money for all that hard labor. Maybe some form of payment that could be enjoyable for you as well."
Harry watched with bated breath as the busty blond pushed her cup aside before balling her fists, her eyes downcast, toward her lap.
Harry would admit, having risky sex with Andi for the entire week and pushing her button to the extreme might have skewed his perception of sexual decorum. Teasing a married veela in a roomful of people without an ounce of shame would require such gigantic balls that Harry doubted anyone besides him could ever accomplish that.
What could go wrong, anyway? In hindsight, he might get lucky the exact day he set foot in the Beautiful country.
Harry's chair almost skidded back as the blond milf jumped to her feet, her blue eyes blazing passionately before she leaned down towards him. Would she kiss him in front of so many people? Damn! Veela's are really something else!
Harry gulped as her pleasant breath washed over him. Did he push her too much? Was she really willing to jeopardize her marriage in front of witnesses for his dick? That was hardcore even for Aunt Andi, the sluttiest woman he met to date.
Harry stared as the pair of pink peachy lips descended toward him, his heart beating miles a minute. But at the last second the woman's face changed its direction, pouring cold water over his desire of tasting a veela's lips. Her warm breath ghosted over his ears.
"Finish your meal and come to the third stall of the women's restroom."
Saying this, she straightened up and corralled a protesting Gabby from her seat and directed her toward the next table where an old woman was drinking her tea and glancing at them periodically.
She whispered something in the old woman's ears and forced Gabby onto a chair with her tub of ice cream. Harry stared as the veela then sauntered out of his eyesight, going toward the restroom that he had earned an invitation to.
His mouth which was wide open snapped with a click and Harry bit his tongue to make sure that he wasn't dreaming.
No, wide awake.
He glared at the plate that remained in front of him, the half-eaten dessert which was probably the most delicious thing that he had ever tasted now seemed more bitter than the bitterest gourd that his mother once forced him to eat. Almost shaking with excitement, Harry inhaled the last morsels of his plate, springing from his seat after he had finished it, just like she asked him to.
Congratulating himself for his daring, Harry Potter already made plans to permanently shift to this heaven on earth, where goddesses roamed the streets and he, the connoisseur of them would be given every opportunity to worship their divinities. His mind raced, thinking, how would he go about convincing his mom that it was for his betterment to shift out of the Potter's ancestral lands.
He was already following the direction that the veela had taken before glancing back to the little girl, smirking inside and wondering if that brat would love to play with a little sibling that he would try his hardest to put inside her mother's womb. His eyes crossed with the old lady who was looking at him with disapproval.
He sniffed. Eat shit, you old hag!
Turning around, he dashed toward the women's restroom, counting the doors and stopping in front of the third one.
Here goes nothing.
He turned the knob forcefully before entering the spacious bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him. His eyes fell on the stacked silvery blond woman whose eyes were blazing with blue fires of passion causing his cock to steer inside his trousers.
His feet carried him toward the married veela, his eyes stuck to the open lips of the blond. He had crossed a dozen feet in the blink of an eye, lips puckering for a loud smooch when from nowhere a long-fingered hand connected with his cheek with a loud 'slap', twisting his neck and giving him a muscle strain.
What the?
A loud ringing filled his ears as his vision swam, the mirrors over the basins spinning and doubling as he shook his head from side to side. The blond who had invited him inside the bathroom glared at him which Harry had trouble comprehending as her form was also swirling and doubling in front of his very eyes.
He could see her lips moving with an angry snarl on her face, but her words didn't register in his ears, as if a hive of bees had taken shelter in his ear canals. An angry buzzing canceling every outside noise.
Harry watched flummoxed, as the veela panted, her pale face getting red in rage, while her mouth continued to move. His stupid expression must have irked her because the next second another loud slap echoed around the bathroom, his head jerking to the side again while the buzzing in his ears seemed to have been cut off abruptly. Though Harry wished the bees were still swarming inside his ears.
"If my Gabby wasn't present with us then I would have taught you a lesson in front of all those people outside!"
"What…"
"I thought you were a polite young man, not a pervert who would try to touch a married woman!"
"But…" Harry got steamrolled again.
"What? Thought I will melt in front of your handsome looks and stupid smile and spread my legs like some common slut?"
This couldn't be happening.
"Or maybe you thought you would bag a veela and boast it to your friends!"
Wasn't he supposed to be irresistible to the older witches?
"Did you think I would cheat on my husband? Me? Appoline Delacour?"
Actually, that was exactly what he had thought.
The enraged veela shoved her left hand in front of his eyes and for a moment Harry feared she wanted to blind him with her long nails.
"Look at my fingers carefully, you bastard! I love Jean and would die before thinking of betraying him and my marriage vows."
Harry stared at the silver band on her ring finger. He remembered seeing similar bands on Aunt Molly and Andi's fingers, especially when they were gripping his dick with their left hands.
The veela took hold of his collar and shook his entire body. "We veelas aren't like human trash, betraying the person whom we had promised to cherish till our dying days. Never… again… touch…a…married…veela…again. Did you understand?"
Harry nodded his head fearfully, staring at the blue eyes which he previously thought were blazing in lust. What a fool he had been.
All those stories of Veela's promiscuousness. Harry swore he would tan the hides of all those authors who had forced those misconceptions into his mind. Promiscuous, my ass.
His pride of being the alpha stud broken in front of the veela's rage, Harry wondered how this kick in his backside would shape his future perception. He also scrapped all his plans of moving to France.
These goddesses are clearly off-limits.
-oOo-
A long, manicured finger parted the gap between two astronomy books, wiggling toward the small compendium of alchemy peeking from the darkness.
"Lady Potter, fancy meeting you here."
The Potter matriarch whirled at the oily voice behind her; wand slipping from the invisible holster from her wrist. The unexpected greeting from the otherwise unoccupied Flourish and Blotts almost made her curse first and greet later. Thankfully, she controlled her impulse at the last second.
"Lord Nott!" Lily said, her teeth gnashing at the older wizard. The suspected death eater was one of the persistent admirers that had dogged her steps for over a decade.
Lily scanned her surroundings. The absence of other patrons except for the old lady at the front spread an inkling of unease in her heart. Eyes tightening, the redhead glared at the piggy little black eyes of the pureblood lord, daring him to mess with her. She was already stressed—what with Harry's departure and the way her left eye twitched throughout the day. Now an asshole's arrival was the only thing required to make this day even worse.
Can't she even pursue some tomes in tranquility?
Her unease only increased as the pervert drank in her physique, cursing herself for not donning a robe over her blouse and skirt.
"I was wondering, lady Potter, if you would like to accompany me to Selwyn's ball next week?"
Lily stalled as the man proposed to her in such a public place, now thankful for the scarcity of other mages. Though, she had to admire the shamelessness of the bastard.
How many times can someone keep repeating the same thing, hoping for a different outcome?
"As flattered I am for the invitation, the answer remains the same like every other time you had asked me out." Lily glared at the man, who was a few inches shorter than her. "I have no intention to accompany you anywhere and that's the last time I would like to repeat that, Lord Nott!"
"Surely you don't expect James to ever wake up from his sleep." Lily's hands balled into fists as the wizard smirked in her direction. "I am also overlooking the fact you have an adult son. Mind you I have plenty of offers from young pureblood maidens after my dear Cassandra's death."
Was that supposed to flatter her?
Lily took a deep breath, searching for a polite way to tell him to take his pureblood ass and fuck off when a flash of brown from the pavement adjacent to the shop caught her eyes through the transparent glass. She turned her head and sure enough, an auror patrolled the Diagon Alley, a wand held loosely in her hand.
Lily muttered a quick prayer, thankful for the ready excuse to make herself scarce from a pureblood bigot's presence.
"I have somewhere to be, Lord Nott. If you would excuse me?"
Lily's wand hand almost rose when the wizard's hands twitched in her direction as if to hold her hand.
"Wait, Lily…" Lily's eyes spat emerald fire, causing the balding wizard to take an involuntary step back. "Can you think about—"
"I am going to meet Amelia now. Do you want me to pass anything to her?" Lily asked, her smile reaching her eyes, mouth curving in a saccharine sweet smile.
Lily nodded as the wizard shook his head furiously, backtracking to the dark corner of the aisles like a scampering rat.
thought so…
Shaking her head disgustedly, Lily turned on her heels and stomped out of the bookstore, turning right the moment she stepped foot outside of the threshold.
"Hey! Wait!"
A young woman with mousy brown hair turned at her shout, a baggy auror robe clinging to her slouched form.
Lily surely hoped that her haunch was correct and she hadn't flagged someone else, though she had never seen her intended target look so morose.
"Auror Tonks…?"
The dull brown eyes that were almost drooping closed snapped open after recognizing her, the brown hair also cycled through various colors before settling into a more lively brown. Lily internally sighed a breath of relief, now sure about the auror's identity.
"Lily Potter? I…I mean Lady Potter?" Nymphadora Tonks stuttered, a bit of color returning to her pale cheeks. "You…here? I mean…?"
Lily raised a coppery eyebrow. The girl seemed quite flustered for some unknown reason. She opened her mouth before clicking it shut. Of course… the poor girl's parents are getting divorced! The Potter matriarch almost slapped herself for forgetting that. Now quite apprehensive about her question, Lily consoled the girl first.
"Ms. Tonks… Dora… I am really sorry about… you know…" Lily shrugged helplessly, causing the girl's shoulder to slump even further.
"I can't believe dad would cheat… and with a muggle…" Lily strained her ears to hear the upset auror's mumbling. "Poor mum…"
Lily refrained from rolling her eyes at the auror's proclamation. Andromeda Tonks was many things, but poor was certainly not one of them. Neither financially nor intellectually. But what could she even do to comfort the young woman when her father's recent bout of unfaithfulness was most probably her own mother's scheme?
Lily shook her head, still certain that the eldest Black sister must have some nefarious plot planned for her Harry. It was a shame that she couldn't even confide her suspicions to her friends.
At least Harry was out of those three Black sisters' reach for the time being. Alice's pleading thawed her resort to not letting him leave her eyesight. Hopefully, her best friend wouldn't betray her trust like those snakes.
"So how's Andromeda?" Lily put her hand on the distraught auror's shoulder and squeezed. "Is she all right?"
Even though she was pretty sure the witch was dancing in joy in the house of her recent freedom.
"A lot better than I thought." Tonks straightened up and looked at her with slightly watery eyes. "My aunts had been with her constantly for the last few days." Here the auror let out a watery chuckle, causing Lily to grimace a bit.
Just what she needed; the three Blacks to brainstorm ideas about getting inside Harry's pants!
Lily tried hard to not let her thoughts encompass her visage. Thought it was an exercise in futility. Thankfully, the young woman was in her own world, staring across the sidewalk.
"Who knew my dad's betrayal would help Mom get reunited with her sisters?"
"Good… hopefully she will get over this heartbreak," Lily said.
"Yeah… you won't believe the ways they had taken to cheer Mom up."
"Hmm?"
"Seriously, I am kind of jealous, watching the close bonds between the three of them. My aunts are taking Mom on a holiday, I believe. To shed dad's unpleasant memories, they said." Nymphadora said, grouching a bit after mentioning her dad.
What?
Lily had taken a step backward, listening to Dora's babbling with barely one of her ears open when her heart almost missed a beat. Heart hammering in her chest, the redhead witch somehow stuttered out her question, hoping, praying that the answer would be something other than what she dreaded.
"Umm… Dora… where were they going again?"
"Oh! They have already gone. This morning, I believe. And they are taking Mom to France. I am so fucking pissed that I couldn't—"
Those fucking skunks!
-oOo-
Harry Potter stumbled into his assigned room, his wand slipping inside his holster after the door clicked open. The hours after his shellacking were distorted in his mind. He remembered meeting with Neville after coming out of the cafe and urging him to return to their hotel without him. He was so out of it, he couldn't even remember if his godbrother was in a good mood or a bad one.
Not that he would shove his nose in Nev's business. He wouldn't dare to cross a veela again even if someone paid him.
He remembered sitting in the park opposite their hotel and reminiscing about his summer holidays. Holidays which were straight from a teenager's fantasy, before today.
He had thought he was past those days of self-doubts, but how quickly someone's outlook can change.
He smiled ruefully, taking in the lowered lights of the enchanted candles. After all those wonderful days, he was bound to have a bad one. It was almost like fate or karma or something similar.
He unbuttoned his shirt, before dumping it in the basket, beside the queen-sized bed. Putting his wand on the bedside table, he snapped open his trousers, chucking them alongside his shirt. Now just in his boxer, Harry thought about having a shower before sighing. Tomorrow. I will do it first thing after waking up. He promised himself.
He jumped on the springy mattress, before laying spread-eagled in the middle of the bed. Looking downward he stared at the bulge that his boxer created.
His invincible weapon tasted his first defeat. He would be honest. He thought that the day would never come.
But that damn veela! All those mouth-watering curves wasted on that pathetic loser! He grouched. His dick slowly hardened in their confines, just thinking about the now forbidden blond.
Shit! He doesn't want to jerk for an hour!
"Oh!"
Harry turned his head at the sound that came from the direction of the bathroom, eyes widening to large saucers as Aunt Alice stood there in a loose bathrobe, her short hair dripping droplets of water all over her body.
Harry jumped out of bed and stumbled to a stand, one hand tried to shield his rapidly deflating boxers while his other hand searched for the basket where he had dumped his clothes.
"Aunty! What are you doing in my room!"
Harry's shout roused the woman from her stupor before she chuckled nervously.
"I guess I had forgotten to mention. I had only applied for two rooms in my application as I wasn't sure about your presence here. Sorry about that."
Harry watched from the corner of his eyes as his godmother shrugged off his presence, before bending down and retrieving a large trunk that Harry must have missed after his arrival. He gulped as her bathrobe raised above her hips the more she bend downward, with her lily-white thighs flashing across his vision.
She straightened after plucking out her night dress, a thing with black lace that Harry dreaded would only highlight his godmother's busty figure.
"Umm, should I go to Neville's room?" Harry hoped she had thought about his sleeping place.
He shoved his legs inside his trousers, only breathing normally after covering his boxer-covered junk from the woman's eyes.
"Of course not. Neville is probably in deep sleep already. And you couldn't open his room remember?"
"Then… should I conjure a mattress here?" Harry pointed to the floor causing his godmother to snort at him.
"Stop that foolishness. There's enough room in the bed for us."
"I'm not—"
"Young man you might have become an adult but for me, you will be always that chubby, little beautiful baby who used to fight with Neville over my breast milk, every time Lily left you with me."
"What?"
"Oh! Did nobody tell you? You were such a voracious little eater… I had to breastfeed you every time Lily went for any prolonged mission for the order."
"B…breastfeed!" Harry squeaked, his brain scrambling with forbidden knowledge.
"Yes! So change into your nightwear and stop arguing with me. I'm as good as your guardian here."
Harry went to his luggage, rummaging inside and retrieving track pants and a T-shirt. Even though he had slept in his boxers for all his young adult life, he refrained from doing so in this instant.
His mind though was filled with images of sucking his godmother's tits and drinking all the nutritious milk those large reservoirs could have stored in them. His dick was rock hard, and Harry cursed for the new titillating image that Aunt Alice just provided.
No wonder he was obsessed with the huge, milky breasts of older women. It must have started while he was still in his nappies.
Fuck! Did she have to confess that secret now?
Harry shook his head, anticipating a sleepless night.
Ignorance really is fucking bliss.
-oOo-
He stared at the embers of the fire, lying sideways, facing away from his aunt, not a wink of sleep in his eyes. He was so afraid to turn around and look into the sleeping form of his godmother that he had ignored his smarting shoulder for the last half an hour. That single glance at the nighty accidentally and all the vast cleavage that his aunt's pushed-together breasts created had given him a tiny orgasm, his massive cockhead belching a slight amount of cum inside his boxers.
It was nothing but torture for the young wizard.
By the steady breathing of the woman, Harry guessed she was already in a deep slumber, the temptation to rub one out almost overpowering his resolve to not disrespect his aunt.
Wasn't he just lamenting about fate and karma? It must be the sin of sleeping with married women.
He hoped his stay in the country wouldn't be all doom and gloom.
He was thinking of practicing that occlumency technique when two round pillow-like things pressed against his back. He had barely stiffened when a soft, feminine hand tried to burrow inside his T-shirt causing him to let out a tiny yelp.
His fidgeting seemed to have worked as the hand withdrew from his skin. Harry cursed himself for offering Neville his help for the dueling championship.
He could have lazed around in his house or maybe sneaked out to visit Aunt Andi, but no… his big mouth had to open!
Harry had just controlled his harsh breathing, scooting even further to his side of the bed to escape twin peaks, on the verge of falling over when his aunt's hand came from nowhere and smacked right on his hard dick, making him tumble over the bed with a loud curse.
From his fallen position, he stared at the sleeping form of her aunt, hardly believing someone could be this disturbing while asleep.
Shaking his head Harry just muttered tiredly, already wishing his trip would end.
This sweet torture of forbidden buffets will drive him mad!
-oOo-
Harry sat in the front row of the stadium, eyes staring at the round platforms that had been placed all over the field. Even though Neville was supposed to face a witch from Luxembourg in an hour and was waiting at the participant's tent with his mom, Harry had been denied entry there. Not that he was complaining. He would rather not stay with his godmother for an extended period. Not when he would share a bed with her again. Only the unexpected events of last night helped him forget the event that just preceded it. His cheek still felt warm after the ringing slap that he could feel even now.
That was not how he wanted to feel a veela's hand on his skin.
His hand rose on its own, rubbing the spot. He attempted to soothe his ego more than the skin there.
Damn, Veela's don't look that strong, but they certainly seem to pack a punch.
But where the hell did his approach go wrong? He could tear his hair in frustration as the puzzling question befuddled his mind. Aunt Molly started his first time, so he couldn't be sure of that approach, but what about Draco's mother? He clearly remembered taking the initiative and kissing the woman during that farce of a dancing lesson and her reciprocating with even more passion. Was that because of her lack of a husband?
Then what about Andromeda Tonks? He mistook her for her daughter and the things he did… He now realized how lucky he was that Aunt Andi was horny and dissatisfied with her husband and went along with his actions. His actions, in hindsight, could almost be counted as abuse. If she was also happily married like yesterday…
Harry shivered, thinking about what the eldest Black sister would have done to him. Certainly not a hard slap and a few choice words.
Now that he thought about it, Amelia Bones and Susan Bones, whom he previously thought of as his most perilous encounter, seemed the safest now. Amelia, being unmarried, could have only humiliated him and probably laughed at him if he got her intentions wrong. With her stroking his dick, Harry didn't think he could interpret that wrongly.
And Susan wasn't even worth mentioning—the stupid little girl that she is.
His preference of going after an older woman with lovely curves needed introspection, it seemed. Considering most of the women who make his blood boil in lust were already married and with kids as big as him, Harry wondered if school girls with no attachments would be a better choice. Safer choice. He admitted they probably won't have Aunt Molly's or Andi's endowments. Neither would they possess the effortless sensuality of Draco's mom, but still…
And that was before counting the significant others of his sexual partners. Ron's dad didn't seem like a guy who could hold his grudge, but would that remain true if he learned what activities he had taken part in with his wife in his marital bed?
Thankfully, Harry didn't think Ted Tonks had any authority over the Tonks' house and Black sister. Still, what if he puts his dick in a witch with a jealous and possessive husband? Would they gun for his blood?
Harry's blood ran cold as he realized he would need to look over his shoulder if he continued to sniff around married witches.
What a mess!
He was miserable when he was a short, under-confident git and he was still the same, even after he fucked the shit out of some of the most desirable witches of Great Britain.
Maybe he should swear off witches altogether…
"Maman, when will big sis fight?"
Harry was sitting in his seat woodenly with no outward reaction to the gradual filling of mages all around him as an even fiercer duel was taking place inside his mind than what all the congregated participants would partake in just shortly, jerked awake as a voice from his right floated inside his eardrums.
"Soon, love. soon."
Oh no!
Harry burrowed himself inside his seat while fastening the dragon-hide leather jacket around himself, tugging the collar upward as much as possible. He glanced to his right from the corner of his eyes, grimacing as his fears were confirmed when a family of three saddled alongside the railings, heading exactly in his direction.
Shit!
He sprang from his seat as if someone had just put a bulb of cactus under his seat, not caring about being recognized. He turned to his immediate left and jumped a few stairs in a single leap, a seat on the left catching his attention. Not caring if was already taken or not, Harry Potter plopped his butt on the seat, finally releasing the breath he had been holding for the last few seconds.
He glanced at the front row and breathed a sigh of relief when the family of three took a seat there without fuss, with the father taking his exact seat.
Close shave there!
"H…hello!"
-oOo-
"That's her!"
Narcissa leaned forward in her seat, squinting her eyes from a dozen rows back. The only reason that the loud shout didn't cross their immediate vicinity was that Andi was mindful enough to put a silencing barrier around the four of them.
Narcissa turned toward her left and glared at the fidgeting figure of Anastasia Greengrass.
"You saw Harry with her and didn't think of separating them?" Narcissa asked, grinding her teeth as she took in the blond veela. She wanted to be the only blond bombshell that Harry had access to. Although she had already conceded that Daphne's mother would be a part of his sphere. But now a fucking veela who looks like a fucking goddess, putting her tentacles on their man…
"What could I do, anyway? You made me look like an old grandma, sitting there drinking tea. And the woman asked me to look after her daughter. I still left the girl there unsupervised to report back to you lot. What more could you ask of me?"
"Maybe, should have tried to break into the bathroom and tried to stop them. I would have done that." Narcissa opened her mouth to ask Bella to shut up, but Andi beat her to it.
"That's why I asked her and not you to spy on him." Bellatrix slouched in her seat at her big sis's chastisement. "And mind the wig, Bella! Your real hair is showing."
"I hate this disguise!" Narcissa agreed with Bella. The red wig that Andi had given her as a decoy hid the beautiful blond locks that she had always taken pride in.
"Do you really have to make me look like Lily?" she asked her eldest, holding a lock of red-colored tresses and glaring at it.
"I'm not sure black is my color, either." Narcissa rolled her eyes as Anastasia complained.
"If you have agreed to a transfiguration like yesterday—"
"Absolutely not. I'm never letting you mess with my face again. What if it got stuck—looking like an old hag?"
Narcissa shivered in disgust and she could feel Bella at her right and Anastasia at her left showing similar expressions of disgust.
"Then stop being a baby. Because that Probity Probe at the entrance surely would have caught any potions or charms used for disguise. That's why I used Transfiguration yesterday. That was the only way."
Narcissa had almost forgotten how cunning Andi was, and dangerous too. There was a reason both she and Bella followed her directions before their estrangement. And it wasn't because of seniority.
"Why did you choose that wig then? It's the same color as your original hair." Narcissa asked.
"It's brown. My hair is black. Pitch black. Like the obsidian. Like the endless darkness devoid of any light." Narcissa barely stopped herself from letting out an unladylike snort. "And I don't hear Bella complaining like you."
"Bella is wearing a blond wig. The best hair color there is." Narcissa turned her nose up and sniffed.
"I seriously doubt—"
"Damn Pierre, I thought only old fuddy-duddies watch this stupid competition between kids. Not curvy and plump geese."
Narcissa felt Anastasia stiffen and then scoot her way, almost climbing on her lap after two rough-looking wizards took seats at their left, beside Daphne's mother.
"Four stunners, Marcus. Two for each of us. I call dibs on the redhead and the brunette."
Narcissa took a bit to realize that the bastards meant Andi and her. A cruel smirk formed on her face. She felt more than saw Andi give a deliberate yawn, probably thinking that dealing with such lowly thugs was beneath her station. Bella had no such compunctions as she could feel her hotheaded sister fishing her wand out, which she stopped by gripping her wrist. She shook her head before squeezing her wrist, causing Bella to frown at her.
Narcissa snapped her wand from her holster and waved that from beneath her legs, temporarily disabling Andi's one-way ward.
She was already fuming, thinking about another woman putting her grabby mitts on Lily's son. These wizards just gave her an easy outlet.
"My, my, I will admit our country lacks sturdy wizards who just take whatever the hell they want. And we very much appreciate two powerful specimens willing to show us samples of French hospitality."
"Oh!"
She smiled brightly toward the two overweight sorry, excuse for wizards, cringing insight by their greedy stare.
"But before that, can you do something for us?"
"Anything!" A slow smirk formed on her face at the eager compliance of both, before it transformed into a wicked grin.
"Confundo!"
-oOo-
"H…hello!"
Harry was still thanking his lucky star when the halting greeting from his right dragged his attention. Though what caught him by surprise was that the greeting was in English and with the Derbyshire accent, he had picked from his mum.
Harry whirled in his seat and gulped as another gorgeous woman smiled at him. Though her smile was tinged with nervousness and something else.
Another blond?
That was another thing he picked up. The straight blond hair. For a second he had almost hoped that was another veela before her greetings reminded him that Britain didn't have the fortune of those goddesses' presence.
Returning her smile with his own hesitating one, another thought struck him. The woman sitting beside her could probably sit beside his yesterday's companion and still hold her own. She was that beautiful, no less than the woman sitting in the front row.
The blue-green irises arched by long eyelashes as if the creator was confused by what color to use to perfectly shade her eyes and finally mixed both, along with the cute button nose and plump, red lips adorning flawless pale skin—Harry Potter wondered if it was some kind of cosmic revenge of his sins for testing his resolve so soon. Though there was a strange familiarity on her face. As if he should remember something but his mind decidedly ignored his attempt at remembrance.
His eyes dipped lower to her green blouse and those enormous round—
He twisted his head from the dangerous territories. A woman of that beauty could have someone in her life. That someone could also decide to punish him for perving on her. His newfound fear of his previous lovers' husbands reared its ugly head at the most unfortunate time.
"Hello… there…" Even that voice invoked a twinge in his heart. As if his favorite singer was singing after recovering from a sore throat.
A curious Harry with steadfast determination turned back toward the smiling woman, keeping his eyes above her neckline.
"Umm… hullo." Harry cursed mentally for that goofy greeting. "Nice evening, isn't it?"
Thankfully that wasn't false. The sun was on its downward journey to the west casting an orange and pinkish hue above the right side of the huge muggle stadium's roof, doubly enhanced by the magical lighting that had been installed all over the ground and visitor's gallery.
"Yeah." Both of them stared at the splashing colors displayed over the sky before turning toward each other. "Nobody's with you?"
Harry's eyebrows raised as the woman seemed to recognize how personal that query might be, flushing slightly.
"No. My godbrother is taking part in the tourney. He is with Aunt Alice, over there." Harry pointed toward the left of the field.
"Oh!"
Harry fidgeted in his seat, wondering if he could get away with asking the same question. But he should introduce himself first.
"I'm Harry. Harry Potter." He put forward his hand for a shake, his hand shaking because of nerves.
"Oh! I'm Li…Lisa. Umm… Lisa Du…Dursle.."
"Dursley? That's my uncle's name. How strange."
That would explain her Britishness then.
"No…not Dursley, it's Dorsey." Harry thought he saw the woman wrinkling her nose while muttering Dursley.
"Still, I knew you were British the moment I heard your voice. You have the same accent as my mom. But you sound much sexier."
"What!" Harry winced as Lisa squeaked like a trodden mouse.
Fuck! Harry almost had a panic attack after uttering that. Almost expecting another slap into his noggin. He searched around, wondering if the woman had brought any male companionship with her before finally staring at her face which seemed to have become chalk white. Seeing the woman stumped Harry finally did something that he should have done the moment he realized a gorgeous older woman was sitting beside him. His eyes swooped down the woman's blouse, ignoring his heart's desire to properly enjoy the sight of her clothed mountains before locking in her lap, where both of her hands were twisting around each other.
He almost jumped for joy when his eyes didn't find a ring around her left-hand fingers, his heart jumping in elation at the pleasant surprise of the woman's single status.
Crisis averted. Now no need to fear any jealous partner.
"Well, umm, Thank you!" Harry relaxed in his seat as the woman didn't resort to violence at his crude remark.
"So… You like dueling?" Harry forwent his resolution of not sniffing around older, voluptuous females faster than a teenager's vow of not looking at porn again, now radiating a calm confidence.
He wouldn't make the same mistake as yesterday. He probably had been too obvious and forward with his intentions, thinking himself the next best thing after Merlin in his hubris. He had also realized he would have plenty of free time as Neville and Aunt Alice would be busy with this tourney. He joked about being a dating virgin with Neville, didn't he? Maybe it was time to change that. And he could say that he had already graduated from Hogwarts. Not like anybody would catch his exaggerations.
Harry's tense shoulders relaxed before he turned his body entirely to the fidgeting older woman's direction who was shying away from meeting his eyes. He finally lost the battle of his heart and took in the gorgeous woman's chest, gulping as her physique hit every single note of his heart, inflaming the burning passion that had slumbered for the last few days.
When again would he meet a single, voluptuous, older—
A commotion from the front row spoiled his appreciation of his companion before he did a double take as the happenings made him gape.
Two shabbily dressed men had walked up to the seat that he had occupied previously, before hauling the current owner of that seat and punching him straight in the face, causing the Veela's husband to crumple in half. A loud shriek reached his ears before the assaulted wizard's wife sprang to her feet and smacked the assailant so hard that a thunderclap-like sound echoed throughout the gallery, felling the bastard like a string-less puppet.
Harry whined like a kicked puppy, his hand covering his cheeks, eyes wide with terror.
"Harry?"
Harry Potter almost answered 'Yes, Mom!' at the accusing tone of his companion whose entire facade seemed to have changed at his display.
"Hehe… Nothing, nothing." He sprawled in his seat, trying to bury himself inside comfortable warmth in shame. "That must have hurt."
Damn it!