The Hogsmeade weekend couldn't have arrived at a better time. After days of mental wrestling with Hannah's advice, Susan had finally worked up the courage to act. The crisp spring air carried the scent of fresh blossoms as students streamed toward the village, chattering excitedly about their plans.
Susan walked alongside Hannah, her stomach in knots. She had spent extra time that morning on her appearance—nothing too obvious, just a touch more care with her hair, which fell in soft auburn waves past her shoulders, and a hint of makeup to highlight her features.
"Stop fidgeting," Hannah whispered, nudging Susan with her elbow. "You look great."
Susan smoothed down her light blue jumper for the tenth time. "I'm not fidgeting."
"Sure," Hannah said with a knowing smile. "And I'm not a Hufflepuff."
They reached the main street of Hogsmeade, bustling with students enjoying their temporary freedom from the castle grounds. Susan's eyes scanned the crowd, searching for that familiar mop of unruly black hair.
"There he is," Hannah said quietly, nodding toward The Three Broomsticks. "With the twins."
Harry stood outside the pub with Fred and George Weasley, smirking at something one of them had said. He was dressed casually in jeans and a dark green jumper that made his eyes stand out even from a distance.
"Go on," Hannah urged, giving Susan a gentle push. "I'll be at Honeydukes if you need me."
Susan took a deep breath. "Right. Here goes nothing."
She walked toward the trio, her heart hammering against her ribcage. As she approached, Fred spotted her first, elbowing George who then said something to Harry. Harry turned, his expression curious at first, then warming into a smile as his eyes fell on her.
"Hi, Harry," Susan said, amazed at how steady her voice sounded despite her nerves.
"Susan," Harry greeted, his eyes meeting hers. "How are you?"
"I'm good," she nodded with a small smile, her eyes hesitant as she gazed at the twins.
Fred and George exchanged glances, identical mischievous grins spreading across their faces.
"Well, we've just remembered an urgent business matter," Fred announced.
"Very urgent," George agreed.
"Can't be postponed," Fred added.
"See you later, Harry," they said in unison, and with a wink at Susan that made her blush, they disappeared into the crowd.
Harry shook his head, watching them go. "Sorry about that. They're not exactly subtle."
"It's fine," Susan said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Actually, I was hoping to talk to you. Alone, preferably."
Something flickered in Harry's eyes—curiosity, perhaps, or recognition. "Sure. Want to walk toward the Shrieking Shack? It's usually quieter there."
Susan nodded, grateful for the suggestion. They fell into step beside each other, navigating through the village until the crowds thinned and the path began to climb toward the infamous haunted house. The tension in Susan's shoulders eased slightly as they left the bustle behind.
"So," Harry said after a moment, "what did you want to talk about?"
Susan glanced at him sideways. This was her moment. "I wanted to talk about what happened. Before the second task."
Harry's pace slowed slightly. "Oh," he said, and Susan couldn't quite read his tone. "That."
"Yes, that," Susan said, her cheeks warming. "I never really got to explain myself."
They reached a small clearing with a fallen tree trunk that offered a view of the Shrieking Shack in the distance. Harry gestured to it, and they sat down, a respectable distance between them.
"You don't have to explain," Harry said, looking at her directly now. "It was... nice."
Susan's heart skipped. "It was?"
Harry nodded, a slight smile playing at his lips. "Unexpected, but nice. I was a bit preoccupied with the prospect of spending an hour underwater, but I remember it clearly."
Susan laughed softly, feeling lighter now. "Right. Not the best timing on my part."
"I don't know," Harry said, his smile widening slightly. "It might have given me extra motivation to survive."
The casual way he said it put Susan at ease. This was the Harry she'd glimpsed in their years here at Hogwarts—confident but not arrogant, able to joke about the constant danger that surrounded him.
"I've been thinking about you," Susan admitted, gathering her courage. "Quite a lot, actually."
Harry's expression turned curious. "Have you?"
"Yes." Susan turned to face him more fully. "Look, Harry, I know about... well, about Katie and Fleur. And I've heard rumors about others."
Harry's expression closed off slightly, a wariness entering his eyes. "And that bothers you?"
"No," Susan said quickly. "That's just it. It doesn't. Not the way I thought it would."
Harry looked surprised. "What do you mean?"
Susan took a deep breath. "I like you, Harry. I have for a while now. Ever since the Yule Ball, when you helped me with that Durmstrang boy who wouldn't leave me alone."
"He was being an asshole," Harry said simply. "Anyone would have done the same."
"But it wasn't anyone. It was you," Susan said softly. "And you did it so smoothly that no one even noticed. You saved me from an uncomfortable situation without making a scene or expecting anything in return."
Harry looked down, seemingly caught off guard by the praise he was not expecting. "It was nothing."
"It wasn't nothing to me," Susan insisted. "And neither was kissing you before the second task."
Harry looked up at her again, his green eyes intent. "Susan, what exactly are you saying?"
This was it. The moment of truth. Susan steeled herself, Hannah's words echoing in her mind. Be selfish for once.
"I'm saying I want to be with you," she said, her voice stronger than she expected. "And I know you're involved with other people, and I'm not asking you to change that. I just... I want my chance too."
Harry stared at her, clearly taken aback. "You... want to be with me, even knowing about the others?"
Susan nodded, her throat suddenly dry. "The Bones family is ancient and respected, but I'm the last one, Harry. Eventually, I'll need to continue the line. But that's not the only reason," she added hastily when she saw his brows furrow. "I genuinely like you—who you are, not just what you represent. And I think... I think we could be good together."
Harry was quiet for a long moment, his expression thoughtful. Susan's heart pounded so loudly she was sure he must hear it.
"I don't know what to say," Harry finally admitted. "I wasn't expecting this."
"You don't have to say anything right now," Susan said, trying to keep the disappointment from her voice. "I just wanted you to know."
She made to stand, but Harry's hand on her arm stopped her.
"Wait," he said. "I didn't say no."
Susan settled back onto the log, hope flickering in her chest. "You didn't?"
Harry ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up even more. "It's complicated, what I have with Katie and the others. It's not... I don't know how to describe it."
"You don't have to," Susan said gently. "I'm not asking for explanations or for you to define anything. I'm just asking for a chance."
Harry studied her face, and Susan had the distinct impression he was seeing her—really seeing her—for the first time.
"You're different than I expected, Susan Bones," he said finally.
Susan raised an eyebrow. "Is that good or bad?"
"Good," Harry said with a small smile. "Definitely good."
A comfortable silence fell between them, broken only by the distant sounds of the village and the rustling of leaves in the light breeze. Susan felt some of the tension drain from her body. She hadn't been rejected outright, and that was more than she'd dared to hope for.
"How about this," Harry said after a while. "Why don't we spend the day together? Get to know each other better. No pressure, no expectations. Just... see where it goes."
Susan's heart leapt. "I'd like that."
Harry stood and offered her his hand. Susan took it, feeling the warmth of his palm against hers, the slight calluses that must be from Quidditch practice. He didn't let go as they started walking back toward the village.
"Where to first?" Harry asked.
"How about Tomes and Scrolls?" Susan suggested. "I heard they got a new shipment of books on Defense Against the Dark Arts."
Harry looked pleasantly surprised. "You're interested in Defense?"
"I'm in the top of the class, aren't I?" Susan reminded him with a smile. "Besides, my aunt has made sure I understand the importance of being able to defend myself."
"Madam Bones," Harry nodded. "We've interacted before, not so long ago actually. Seemed like one of the few Ministry officials with any sense."
"She'd like to hear that," Susan said, laughing. She carefully avoided the topic of him interacting with her aunt. It was not her place to ask. "Being the niece of the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement comes with certain expectations."
They reached the bookshop, its windows displaying stacks of new arrivals. Harry held the door open for her, and as Susan passed him, she caught a whiff of his scent—a mixture of broom polish, fresh air, and something uniquely him.
Inside, they browsed the shelves together, occasionally pulling out a book to show the other. Susan found herself relaxing, the conversation flowing easily between them. Harry was knowledgeable about defense spells, and Susan shared what she knew from her aunt about Ministry protocols and legal defenses against dark magic.
"This one's brilliant," Harry said, handing her a book titled Practical Defensive Magic and Its Use Against the Dark Arts. "A friend gave me a copy for Christmas."
Susan examined it with interest. "The moving illustrations would make the spells easier to learn."
"Exactly," Harry agreed. "It's how I've been developing new practice sessions for the tournament. Not exactly these spells, mind you, but the premise is the same."
Susan nodded. She ran her fingers over a particularly detailed sequence showing shield charm variations. "I love dueling, you know. My aunt arranged for me to have lessons since I was twelve."
Harry's raised an eyebrow. "Really? Are you any good?"
"I hold my own," Susan said with a hint of pride. "My instructor says I have quick reflexes."
Harry's lips curved into a small smirk as he gazed at her. He'd just found a perfect way that would help him bond with this girl. "We should practice together sometime. I could use a good dueling partner, especially with everything that's been happening lately."
"I'd like that," Susan said, her pulse quickening at the thought.
"Nice. There's a room on the seventh floor that would be perfect for our needs. No one ever goes there. I'll let you know the time."
"It's a date, then," Susan said, before she flushed slightly. "I mean—"
"A date," Harry confirmed with a smile, saving her from the awkwardness.
They spent nearly an hour in the bookshop before heading to Scrivenshaft's, where Susan needed to replenish her quill supply. From there, they wandered to Honeydukes, joining the throng of students inside the sweet shop.
Susan spotted Hannah with Ernie Macmillan near the Fizzing Whizzbees. Hannah caught her eye and raised her eyebrows questioningly when she noticed Harry beside Susan. Susan gave a small nod, and Hannah responded with a thumbs-up behind Ernie's back.
"You're quite close, aren't you?" Harry asked, noticing the exchange.
"She's my best friend," Susan confirmed. "Always been... supportive, even if she can be a pain sometimes."
Harry seemed to understand what she meant, because a knowing look crossed his face. "Like the twins earlier?"
"Something like that," Susan admitted.
They emerged from Honeydukes with a bag of sweets to share and continued their tour of the village. By the time they reached The Three Broomsticks for butterbeer, Susan felt like she'd known Harry for years. He was easy to talk to when it was just the two of them, without the pressure of his fame or her family name between them.
They found a small table in the corner of the crowded pub. Harry went to get their drinks while Susan settled in, watching him navigate through the sea of students.
At the bar, Madam Rosmerta lit up as Harry approached. The buxom barkeeper leaned forward over the counter, giving Harry an unobstructed view of her generous cleavage barely contained by her low-cut top.
"Well, if it isn't my favorite champion," she purred, her voice carrying even over the pub's noise. Her hand reached out to brush imaginary lint from Harry's shoulder, lingering longer than necessary. "What can I do for you today, handsome?"
Harry gave her a smirk, chuckling when she winked. "Just two butterbeers, please."
"Two?" Rosmerta's eyes darted to where Susan sat, then back to Harry with a knowing smile. "Got yourself a date, have you? She's a pretty one." She winked and leaned in closer, whispering, "If you've got some plans of the naughty kind, the private room's empty. On the house if a certain lady gets her chance as well."
Harry could only shake his head as she leaned away with the same naughty grin on her face.
"You're something else," he muttered.
Madam Rosmerta smirked. As she turned to get their drinks, she made sure to bend over far more than needed, her tight skirt stretching across her curves. Harry enjoyed the view as much as a few others who had been staring at the woman all the while, giving him death glares for being in the position he was in.
When she returned with the drinks, she purposely brushed her fingers against Harry's as she handed them over.
"Special discount," she said with a sultry smile. "For you and your lovely friend. And Harry," she added, her voice dropping to a whisper that wasn't really a whisper at all, "my offer still stands for when you're... looking for more experienced company."
Harry merely smirked as he accepted the drinks and dropped the money into her hand. Perhaps he really should take the woman up on her offer—she certainly seemed interested. It wasn't as if he wasn't.
He made his way back to the table, two frothy butterbeers in hand, and he returned Susan's smile. Placing the glasses on the table, he slid Susan's drink across to her.
"Cheers," he said, clinking his mug against hers.
Susan took a sip, the warm, buttery liquid soothing her throat. "This has been nice."
"It has," Harry agreed, looking at her over the rim of his mug.
Before their conversation could continue, they were interrupted by the arrival of Katie, Angelina, and Alicia, who spotted them and made a beeline for their table.
"Well, well, well," Katie sang out with a mischievous grin, pulling up a chair without invitation. "Look what we have here!"
"Harry and Susan, sitting in a tree," Angelina teased in a sing-song voice, sliding into another chair.
Alicia laughed, giving Susan a warm smile. "Finally made your move, did you? Good for you!"
"Katie, Angelina, Alicia," Harry nodded, looking both amused and slightly embarrassed. "You know Susan, of course."
"Know her? We've been rooting for her since the Yule Ball!" Katie exclaimed, throwing an arm around Susan's shoulders. "That Durmstrang creep didn't know what hit him when Harry stepped in."
"And the look on your face, Susan," Angelina added, her eyes twinkling. "We knew right then you had it bad for our Seeker."
Susan blushed deeply. "Was I that obvious?"
"Only to everyone except Harry," Alicia said with a laugh. "He's spectacularly oblivious."
"Hey!" Harry protested, though he was smiling.
Katie leaned forward, eyeing them both with undisguised delight. "So, is this an official date? Should we leave you lovebirds alone? Or do you need some wingwomen?"
Susan laughed, feeling more at ease with these girls than she'd expected. "We're just getting to know each other better," she said diplomatically.
"Mmhmm," Katie hummed, clearly unconvinced. She turned to Harry with a wicked smile. "So Harry, does this mean Susan's joining our little... arrangement?"
Harry almost choked on his butterbeer. "Katie!"
"What?" Katie asked innocently. "I'm just making sure everyone's on the same page. Susan knows, right?"
"I think the whole school knows," Susan confirmed with a chuckle, appreciating Katie's directness. "And no, it doesn't bother me."
Katie's eyes widened with genuine approval. "I like her even more now," she declared to Harry. "Good taste, Potter."
Angelina nudged Katie. "We should give them some space. We've embarrassed Harry enough for one day."
"Fine," Katie sighed dramatically, standing up. "But Susan, if you need any tips on handling this one," she jerked her thumb at Harry, "come find me. I've got all sorts of useful information."
"I'll keep that in mind," Susan said, fighting a smile.
The three Chasers departed with final winks and waves, leaving Harry and Susan alone again.
"That wasn't so bad," Susan observed once they were alone again.
Harry looked both relieved and amused. "They're something else."
"They seem to like me," Susan said thoughtfully. "And Katie's very... open about things."
Harry nodded. "Yeah, that's Katie. No secrets, no games. She's always been that way." He hesitated, then added, "If this—whatever this is between us—continues, they'll all know about you too. Is that okay?"
Susan considered this. The idea of being part of Harry's complicated life, of being known as one of the girls he was seeing, might have bothered her once. But now, sitting across from him, seeing the genuine concern in his eyes, she found it didn't matter as much as she'd thought.
"Yes," she said firmly. "It's okay."
Harry's expression softened. "You're remarkable, you know that?"
Susan felt warmth spread through her chest that had nothing to do with the butterbeer. "I'm just being honest about what I want."
"And what is it that you want, exactly?" Harry asked, his voice low enough that only she could hear.
Susan met his gaze directly. "To be with you. To see where this goes. To have something real, even if it's not exclusive."
Harry reached across the table and took her hand. "I think I can work with that."
They finished their butterbeers and left the pub, walking slowly back toward the path to Hogwarts. The afternoon was waning, the spring sun casting long shadows across the ground. They'd have to return to the castle soon for dinner.
"Thank you for today," Susan said as they reached the edge of the village. "For giving me a chance."
Harry stopped walking and turned to face her. "Thank you for being brave enough to ask for what you want. Not many people do that."
Susan looked up at him, suddenly aware of how close they were standing. "Hufflepuffs can be brave too, you know."
"I'm starting to see that," Harry murmured, his eyes dropping to her lips.
Susan's breath caught in her throat. Was he going to kiss her? Here, in the open, where anyone could see?
As if reading her thoughts, Harry glanced around at the other students making their way back to the castle. "Not here," he said softly. "But soon."
Soon. She could work with that.
He offered his arm, and Susan took it, feeling a mixture of disappointment and anticipation as they joined the stream of students heading back to Hogwarts. They walked in comfortable silence, Susan's mind replaying the day's events, hardly believing her boldness had paid off.
As they approached the castle, Harry slowed his pace. "Meet me tomorrow? On the seventh floor, after classes?"
Susan nodded, a smile spreading across her face. "I'd like that."
They parted in the entrance hall, Harry heading toward Gryffindor tower while Susan made her way down to the Hufflepuff common room. She could feel his eyes on her back as she walked away, and it took all her willpower not to look back.
Hannah was waiting for her in their dormitory, practically bouncing with curiosity. "Well? How did it go?"
Susan dropped onto her bed, unable to keep the smile from her face. "It went... really well."
Hannah squealed and jumped onto the bed beside her. "Details! I want every single detail!"
As Susan recounted the day's events, she felt a sense of hope and possibility that had been missing before. She didn't know exactly what would happen with Harry, or how things would work with the other girls in his life. But for the first time, she felt like she had a real chance at something meaningful with him.
And for now, that was enough.
-Break-
It had been a while since he'd had one of these walks around the grounds after dinner. The moon was bright, casting silvery light across the surface of the Black Lake as Harry strolled leisurely along the shore, his thoughts drifting from one topic to another.
Susan's approach had been unexpected back in the tent, and even more today, but he felt it should've been expected. Somehow, despite him not even trying to, he had been able to do what Dumbledore had asked of him.
A small smile emerged on his face when he realized that he'd done it without becoming an asshole in the entire business.
The lake was tranquil—completely opposite to how rough it had been during the task. The memory of the task came with what Harry had shared with Fleur both under and above the surface, and an involuntary smile crept up on his lips. That had been quite an experience.
Lost in thought, he almost missed the elegant figure waiting near the edge of the path. As he drew closer, he recognized Apolline Delacour who had spotted him and was now approaching gracefully from beneath the shade of an ancient oak tree. She wore an immaculate set of deep blue robes that seemed to shimmer with subtle magic—clearly expensive and tailored perfectly to her figure. The fabric glowed under the moonlight filtering through the leaves, creating an almost ethereal effect.
The neckline dipped low, revealing the smooth expanse of her collarbone and just enough cleavage to draw the eye. A slit at the thigh flashed a glimpse of her leg with each step, the movement deliberate, almost hypnotic. Her blonde hair cascaded in loose waves, framing her face, and her lips curved into a warm, inviting smile as she approached. Harry had to admit something once again. The woman was stunning—Fleur's beauty mirrored, but sharper and more refined.
He forced his gaze to her eyes as she got close.
"Monsieur Potter," she called, her voice so soft it felt she was caressing him with it. "I was 'oping to find you."
"Mrs. Delacour," he greeted, maintaining a respectful distance. "Is everything alright?"
"Oui, everything is fine. I was 'oping we might 'ave a private word?" Her accent was more pronounced than her husband's, but her English was still impeccable. "Perhaps somewhere less... exposed?"
She gestured toward the Beauxbatons carriage, its massive blue bulk looming in the distance, the lights glinting. "Per'aps we could speak in more comfortable surroundings? It is about ze second task and... other matters."
Harry's brows furrowed slightly before he nodded. "Sure. Lead the way please."
As they walked side by side toward the oversized carriage, Harry found himself highly aware of Apolline's graceful movements. There was something distinctly different about her presence today compared to their meeting before the second task—something more elegant and poised. The way she carried herself commanded attention, and Harry noticed her subtle perfume catching on the breeze.
"This way," Apolline directed once they entered the carriage, leading him past several closed doors until they reached what appeared to be a small private sitting room. "Zis is where we receive guests."
The room was cozy but refined, with a small fireplace crackling quietly and comfortable furniture arranged for intimate conversation. Large windows overlooked the Hogwarts grounds, though Harry knew from first-hand experience the glass seemed to offer privacy from outside observers. It was quite different from Fleur's room in here.
"Please, sit," Apolline gestured to a comfortable armchair. "Would you care for some refreshments? Tea, perhaps?"
Harry nodded, settling into the chair. "Tea would be nice, thank you."
"Excellent." Apolline moved to a small sideboard, her movements fluid and graceful as she prepared the tea service. Harry couldn't help but notice how she carried herself, each motion precise and almost performative. As she reached for the teapot, her dress shifted, the slit at her thigh parting to reveal more of her leg. Harry's eyes flicked away, but not before he caught the curve of her calf, the smooth skin catching the light. When she reached for cups on a high shelf, her robes shifted to reveal more of her neckline than perhaps strictly necessary.
Harry found himself tugging at his collar, the room suddenly feeling warmer than it had when they entered. He was beginning to suspect that the comfortable atmosphere of the room had less to do with the crackling fire and more to do with Apolline herself.
Apolline silently prepared the tea, her back to him, and he couldn't help but notice the way her dress dipped at the small of her back, accentuating her waist.
She returned with an elegant silver tea service, setting it carefully on the low table between them. As she leaned forward to pour, her neckline tugged lower, offering a fleeting glimpse of her impressive cleavage. Her hair also fell forward in a silvery curtain, and Harry caught a waft of something beyond her perfume—a subtle, intoxicating scent that seemed to heighten his senses.
"Sugar?" she asked, her voice somehow lower than before.
"No, thank you," Harry replied, accepting the delicate porcelain cup. The tea had an unusual floral aroma, pleasant but unfamiliar. It was naturally sweet as well, with a hint of something he couldn't quite put his finger on. It warmed him from the inside, loosening the tension in his shoulders. Apolline settled into the opposite chair, crossing her legs. The slit parted again, and Harry's eyes drifted to it for a moment before he averted his gaze.
"I wanted to thank you personally," she began, "for what you did during ze second task. My Gabrielle—"
"It was nothing," he responded with a small smile. "Gabrielle was never in any real danger. Dumbledore wouldn't have allowed any harm to come to the hostages." He tugged at his collar, the room feeling warmer than before.
Her lips curved, and she leaned forward slightly, her elbows resting on the arms of her chair. The motion pushed her chest out a bit, and Harry's eyes flicked to her neckline once again before he caught himself.
"Per'aps not," Apolline acknowledged, watching him over the rim of her cup. "But you could not 'ave known zat for certain. Yet you still risked your own chances to ensure my daughter's safety."
The room seemed to be growing warmer still, and Harry found himself loosening his collar slightly. "Anyone would have done the same."
Apolline's laugh was musical but held a note of disbelief. "Non, 'Arry. Not everyone would 'ave done what you did." She set her cup down. "Which brings me to what I truly wished to discuss."
Harry's senses were becoming increasingly alert. The tea was having an unusual effect on him—not dulling his awareness but rather sharpening it. Every movement Apolline made seemed to draw his attention, from the way her fingers traced the rim of her teacup to how she smoothed her robes over her knee.
"I couldn't help but notice," she continued, leaning forward slightly, "ze... passionate embrace you shared with my daughter after ze task."
To his surprise, Harry felt heat rise to his face that had nothing to do with the question or the fact that Fleur's mother was asking it. "Mrs. Delacour—"
"Apolline, please," she corrected, a slight smile playing at her lips.
"Apolline," Harry amended, his voice steady despite his surprising discomfort. "I'm not sure what you're asking."
She tilted her head slightly, her eyes never leaving his. "I am asking about your intentions toward my daughter, 'Arry. What exactly is happening between you and Fleur?"
The directness of the question caught Harry off guard, and it didn't help that she crossed and uncrossed her legs. The slit parted further, revealing the curve of her inner thigh. He caught himself with a little sip of the tea. "With all due respect, shouldn't that be a conversation between you and Fleur?"
"I would rather hear your thoughts, 'Arry."
The way she said his name was so much like Fleur that it took him by surprise. He composed himself quickly though, setting down his cup with more force than he'd intended.
"Does Fleur know you're speaking to me about this?" He asked, his voice steady despite the heat pooling in his gut.
Apolline's silence was answer enough.
Harry scoffed, leaning back in his chair. "I thought as much. Perhaps you should discuss this with your daughter before approaching me this way."
Something in Apolline's expression shifted, a flash of surprise quickly masked by determination. The atmosphere in the room seemed to intensify, the air becoming almost thick with an invisible presence that Harry recognized immediately—veela allure, and there was only one person here who could unleash it.
"You misunderstand my intentions," Apolline said, her voice taking on a honeyed quality as she leaned forward, the movement exposing even more of her cleavage. Her fingers reached out, brushing against Harry's wrist in what might have appeared to be an innocent gesture of emphasis, but the touch lingered just long enough to suggest that it was anything but innocent. He felt his pulse quicken, his throat bobbing slightly, and Apolline didn't miss the little action.
She adjusted her position, the movement causing her robes to slip slightly off one shoulder. The strap of her bra was visible now, and in the haze of her allure, her sheer presence, and the effect that tea was having on him, the little strip of fabric had more than a little effect on him.
"I simply want to ensure zat whoever pursues my daughter is... worthy of her attention," she said softly.
Harry became acutely aware of his physical response to her proximity and the concentrated allure she was projecting. His body was reacting in ways that would be obvious to anyone, especially to a veela who understood exactly what effect she was having.
Harry's collar felt too tight, and he tugged at it again, his fingers brushing his neck. "You come to me like this," he said, his voice low, "without Fleur knowing. If you've got questions about us, talk to Fleur first." He met her eyes, refusing to back down, even as her allure clawed at his restraint.
Her expression shifted, a flash of irritation crossing her face. She stood, her movements fluid, and stepped closer. Harry's breath caught as she reached out, her fingers brushing his forearm. The touch sent a jolt through him, and he tensed, his body reacting despite himself. His jeans tightened, and Apolline's gaze drifted downward momentarily, a knowing smirk curving her lips.
"It seems you are easily... affected," she observed, her tone shifting to something more mocking. "Is zis all it takes to overwhelm ze famous 'Arry Potter? A little... stimulation?"
Her fingers trailed up his arm, lingering at the sensitive spot just below his elbow. Harry shivered, his skin prickling. "You zink you can speak to me zat way?" She leaned closer, her dress slipping off one shoulder, revealing the edge of her lacy bra. "Look at you," she continued, her tone dripping with disdain. "So easily undone. A little touch, a little warmth, and you're trembling."
Slowly, she slipped her dress off her other shoulder as well, allowing it to fall off. It was held in place over her large tits, exposing her massive cleavage and the entirety of her neck. She stepped toward him, coming to a stop between his legs.
"How could you possibly think," she continued, leaning closer and placing her hands on the arms of his chair, bringing her face near his, "zat you could be worthy of a daughter of ze Delacour family if you cannot even maintain control of yourself in ze presence of her mother?"
Her breath was hot on his face, and her intoxicating scent flooded his senses. She leaned back slightly, but all it did was give him more to stare at.
Harry's eyes flicked to her shoulder, the smooth skin glowing faintly in the firelight. His gaze dropped lower, to the swell of her breasts, barely contained by the fabric. His throat was dry, his erection straining painfully. She followed his gaze, her smirk widening.
"What?" she purred as she leaned close once again, her lips inches from his. "No defense? No clever words now?"
The challenge, the mockery in her voice was unmistakable, and in that instant, the fog of confusion lifted from his expression, replaced by perfect clarity.
Before she could react, Harry moved with unexpected speed. He stood abruptly, causing Apolline to step backward in surprise. She nearly lost her balance, but Harry's hand shot out, catching the front of her robes right in front of her large tits. His fist bunched the fabric right over her cleavage, and she gasped, her body arching as he held her mid-air.
"Careful," he said, his voice low and rough. He turned her around, pushing her into the chair he'd been sitting on. She landed with a soft thud, her dress riding up, exposing more of her thighs. Harry stepped forward, standing between her parted legs, his erection obvious now, mere inches from her face.
Apolline's eyes widened, her lips parting as she stared up at him. The glow of her allure flickered, unsteady, as if she hadn't expected this. Her chest heaved, her bra straining with each breath. For the first time, she looked uncertain, the shift of power catching her by surprise.
Harry leaned down slightly, his smirk sharp and confident. "You were saying?"
TBC.
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