Harry Potter Veela's Embrace

"That he does. But last year, according to Dumbledore, Mr. Potter was concerned the Dementors would attack him while he played Quidditch. They had done so earlier in the year. So he learned to do a fully corporal Patronus."

"NO!" Fleur exclaimed. "It is not possible. I can not even do one."

"It was seen by many students at a Quidditch game," Olympe replied.

Fleur sat stunned at the revelations from her Headmistress. Finally she had to ask. "But if he did all of this, why was it not in the papers? A Basilisk being killed should be international news."

"You tell me?" Maxime asked. "Tell me why Mr. Potter didn't take his feats to the newspapers?"

Fleur only had one answer. "He...he doesn't want it known?"

"Actually he doesn't care. He wants neither fame nor acknowledgment."

"But..." Fleur started but fell silent as she remembered how Harry tried to stay out of the pictures at the weighing of the wand.

"I'll tell you something else that might interest you because of your heritage. The boy has no biases, no bigotry."

"How do you know this?" Fleur asked.

"There is a man who Harry considers to be almost an uncle to him that is a werewolf, he personally knows a centaur, has risked his life to free an abused house-elf and he even went to a ghost's death-day party," Maxime explained. "How many British wizards would you think would do that?"

For a brief instant, Fleur envisioned herself on the arm of the young man, but quickly shook it off. "He is much too young," She convinced herself.

That night and many other nights Fleur's quill scratched out several pages of letters to her sister telling her of her crush's adventures. During many of those letters, she had to pause to shake away thoughts of those green eyes.

Once the Yule Ball was announced, it seemed like every young man who came near her ended up befuddled and asked her to the Yule Ball as they drooled on their own cloaks. Of course as they asked most were either looking at her nicely shaped bosom or the ground.

"Cedric, is zere a single person 'ere zat I can go to ze ball with?" She'd asked her friend. She had hope Cedric might consider asking to go as friends, but she'd learned he'd asked a young black-haired girl named Cho Chang.

"Well Roger Davies, he's a prefect in Ravenclaw, asked me if you were going with anyone," Cedric replied. "I didn't want to play go between but he's a pretty good bloke. I've never heard a bad thing about him."

"Zen take me to 'im and I'll see if 'e is interested," Fleur replied. A short time later, the Beauxbatons champion had her escort to the Ball but from the look in Davies eyes when he looked at her, she wasn't sure it had been the right choice.

At the Yule Ball itself, it became readily apparent that it had been a mistake. Roger Davies couldn't keep his eyes off her body. As she ignored her date's open mouth as the Champions gathered she took a moment to look at the green-eyed wizard she'd written so much about to Gabrielle. It surprised her to feel a bit of jealously at the young attractive witch on his arm. For a second their eyes met again, but as he quickly looked away she thought. "He's definitely cute and so innocent. If he were just a couple of years older," The vision of herself on his arm flashed through her mind again. This time it included dancing the night away staring into his emerald eyes. She had to shake her head to clear it.

She really couldn't blame Davies, but it didn't sooth her irritation at him. His inability to keep the drool from his mouth kept her in a temper most of the evening, causing her to criticize almost everything she saw. Finally the meal was over and the dancing began. As Davies led her to the dance floor, she found her eyes wandering in search of the ebony-haired wizard. She smiled when she found him dancing, especially at who was leading the dance. Again her mind wondered what it would be like to be in his arms. To have those emerald eyes looking into hers for more than a second.

"Fleur, would you like a stroll in the gardens?" Davies asked later in the evening.

Fleur inwardly sighed. She knew what to expect. She knew he'd start by walking with her and after a few minutes he'd guide her to some secluded place and try to kiss her. "Oui," She replied with a shrug. It was only polite to accept the invitation. She would allow the man to kiss her, but she was already firm in her mind that would be as far as it would go.

Fleur almost laughed at the predictability of Davies when he guided her behind a rosebush a few minutes later.

"Fleur..." Davies started with still no eye contact. He lift his head and leaned forward trying to initiate a kiss. The next second a disturbance arose nearby. She heard the voice of her Headmistress.

"Ow dare you!" Madam Maxime's voice cut through the garden. She continued yelling but the rest was not so easily heard.

Fleur was worried that she was yelling at her and quickly stumbled back into the pathway. Looking around she saw Madame Maxime stomping away from the large man she knew was a professor called Hagrid.

"My apologies Roger," Fleur said taking an opportunity to end the date. "I must see what is wrong with Madame Maxime. Thank you for ze wonderful evening," Before he could reply, she had hurried away. Later she heard the rumors that Roger had told everyone that he and Fleur had spent an hour behind that bush snogging while he had copped a few feels along the way.