"Harry" the Astronomy professor called out just as class was ending, "I need to go over a few things after class, stay behind please."
Taking into account the last few times the woman had tried this approach she didn't actually expect his response to be an affirmative, and to leave his supplies on the table while the other students departed.
"Oh… well uhm thank you…" the woman awkwardly responded, before gently closing the door and locking it. "I uh… have a question for you."
"Of course."
"Did… did I do something to upset you?"
His face fell slightly into one of remorse, "No… not it isn't anything you did I just needed some time to figure a few things out."
"With the other girls I assume?"
He nodded, "Yeah, and just with myself too."
"I see, listen if you want to put a halt on, well whatever this is between us I understand."
"Do you want to do that?" he questioned back, actual curiosity in his voice for once.
" Merlin no, are you daft? I want to push you up onto the desk and mount you right now."
A teasing grin formed on his face, "Well who am I to say no to that?"
...
There he was, her target. Fleur subconsciously licked her lips as she stealthily followed behind the group of teens she had located minutes prior. Among them was a certain English celebrity, Harry Potter. What had started off as an anomaly in her mind had grown into a far more serious aggravation.
He was ignoring her; this little teenage brat was ignoring her . She was Veela, beauty incarnate, and desire made physical. Everyone from teenage boys to old men glanced her way when she walked into a room, and even the strongest found the urge to stare, lust overtaking their thoughts.
But not him, not the boy-who-lived. She had strolled through the Great Hall with confidence and just a hint of sensuality… and he had ignored her. She even gave him the gift of her attention, speaking to him directly and taking time from her own schedule to do so.
And yet he has brushed her off as unimportant.
Her, Fleur Delacour, unimportant? No, she had dealt with enough dismissal from her parents over the years, from her father's anger at both her and Gabrielle being born females to her mother's useless submissive tendencies when it came to the man's decisions. When she had started school as a child she had concluded that she would never be ignored again, never be looked over or seen as an 'unwanted' burden.
Her father may see her as an object to be used in future negotiations and to continue his 'prestigious' bloodline, but she was going to make her own decisions, carve her own path, and that started with Harry bloody Potter.
She would show him just how important she was, she would bend him to her will, turn him into a drooling puddle of teenage hormones begging for the opportunity to breathe the same air as she did. Then she would humor him for a few days, have the child carry around her books and fetch her meals, debase him on a personal level and show everyone how truly insignificant and pathetic he was compared to her. Then she would break his heart, shatter it into pieces with a dismissal and a laugh at how pitiful his feelings and obsessions towards her truly were. Yes, that would be her revenge at the boy who dared to ignore her.
"Excuse me, Harry Potter?"
The group slowed, before turning back towards her. "Yes?"
Ah there it was, now it was time to show them what being a Veela truly meant. Her Allure surged forth, coating those before her in a Magical lust. Her hair would glow like the sun, her lips moistening to perfection, her curves would be amplified, and her voice would be that of the most intimate of lovers, promising pleasure unending for those who simply obeyed, for those who would kneel before her.
The various teens adopted the expression she had seen so many times before, unfocused eyes, dopey grins, slackening faces. She could practically feel the desire radiating off them, see their complacency, taste their…
"Is that it?"
Her thoughts froze at the curious tone from her primary target, the focus of her Magic. Harry Potter stood, one eyebrow raised ever so slightly as he stared back at her completely unaffected.
"That is the famous Allure? How… trivial."
"B-b-but… my aura…" How? How was he resisting her? How was he still so… calm?
"Aura?" the boy mused, a slight smirk forming on his face, "You call that an aura?"
"I…" but before she could even respond, or think of a way to do so, the world crashed down around her. Magic so incredibly dense that she could feelit surrounding her body, flooding her senses, overwhelming her mind. She fell to her knees instantly, gasping for breath as if drowning in darkness… and lust. Whether he was aware of it or not, to a Veela Magical power was practically an aphrodisiac mixed with pheromones, and her instincts sang out to claim him as her own, to obey and follow him, to give him all the pleasures of the world and be pleasured in turn.
Fleur Delacour edged forward, practically crawling towards the source of the wonderful power that threatened to overwhelm every part of her mind, body, and soul. After what felt like miles she had reached him, the logical portion of her brain no longer functioning as she simply wanted to be with him, in anyway shape or form.
Her arm raised, hand reaching towards where she knew was the one part she could manipulate better than anyone else.
His own hand swatted it away, as if she were some annoying insect or whiny child rather than a Veela attempting to… Goddess she didn't even know what to do at this point, just that she needed to please him.
Trying again she was denied once more and whimpered as her body screamed out for something.
This time the condescending bastard chuckled. "Aw, does the little Veela think she is worthy enough to touch me? I assure you that you are not . If I wanted some little slut to suck me off I would walk into one of the House common rooms and point to a female. What makes you think you are better? What makes you think you are good enough ?"
"P-p-please…"
" Pathetic . " he growled before gesturing towards his recovered friends and walking away, leaving a certain French Witch to slump forward, supported only by her hands and knees as tears began to fall down her face. She wasn't quite sure why she was crying, just that every bone in her body was telling her to do so.
.....
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