Chapter 40: The Yule Ball
Chapter Text
A/N: Time marches ever onward.
-x-X-x-
Watching everything that takes place over the next three weeks from his vantage point at Hogwarts is quite the treat, Harry has to admit. First there's Lucius Malfoy and his loss of magic. While the man himself would probably have wanted to keep his sudden weakness on the downlow and avoid letting anyone know about it while he tried to figure out a way to regain his magic… that simply wasn't going to happen.
Even if Narcissa had wanted to go along with that sort of scheme, effectively keeping Lucius hidden from the public eye and protecting him from all the shame and ridicule of suddenly being little more than a muggle or a squib… she couldn't. After all, Lucius Malfoy was an important figure in the Wizarding World. Not just as Lord Malfoy in the Wizengamot, but also as the rich benefactor behind several magical businesses.
Put simply, his name was on dozens of magically binding contracts that relied on all parties involved to have magic in order to properly bind them legally. Things like House Malfoy investing in this or that business, and in turn being able to demand certain repayment over time, or if the business doesn't do well, repossess assets until they'd recovered their losses.
Overnight, those contracts suddenly lost half of their magical potency. This wasn't to say they were completely null and void in the eyes of the Wizarding World, but everyone would know that something had happened to one of the signatories, and people would have to scramble to get everything fixed.
Of course, on top of that… Narcissa had no intentions of protecting Lucius anyways. The moment she got home from her time with Harry and found her former husband sobbing about the Dark Lord robbing him of his magic, she'd called the Aurors straight away. And yes, Lucius was her former husband now. Just as he was the former Lord Malfoy.
He would get to keep the last name, and that was about it. Everything else, all of the property and wealth he'd owned in the magical world… it was all tied to his magical identity. Now that he no longer had magic, he no longer owned anything.
With Narcissa's call, the news of what had happened to Lucius broke quickly. And so did the news of what had happened to Rodolphus Lestrange at long last as well. Lucius and a few others had hidden the news of Rodolphus' draining from most people, likely out of fear-driven loyalty to the Dark Lord.
But now that 'Voldemort' had drained Lucius of his magic, the former Lord Malfoy no longer seemed to believe he had anything left to lose. He'd ranted and raved about the Dark Lord and this 'repayment for his loyal service' to anyone who would listen… including Amelia and the Aurors that show up at Narcissa's request.
Lucius had said enough to incriminate himself despite his previous 'Imperius Defense', and once the Aurors had realized Narcissa wasn't going to be protecting the squibified man, they'd gone ahead and arrested him. Lucius wasn't in Azkaban right now, but only because his status as a non-magical person disqualified him for imprisonment in Azkaban. As things stood, he was likely to suffer the most common fate that a muggle who committed magical crimes in the Wizarding World suffered… obliviation.
Yes, while it wasn't set in stone yet, Lucius Malfoy would almost certainly be obliviated of all of his memories and thrown out into the muggle world within the next few months. And no, the Ministry wouldn't make sure that he had enough resources to get set up in the muggle world or anything like that. He would wind up homeless, his mind fractured, and his previous life forgotten. A terrible fate to visit upon most… but not exactly what Harry would consider 'unjust' for someone like Lucius.
Draco, of course, had been quite shellshocked by everything that had happened since that fateful evening. He'd been in and out of Hogwarts the past three weeks, mostly leaving on the weekends and coming back during the week to attend classes, likely at his mother's orders.
He didn't seem to know what to make of everything that had happened though. His father had always seemed so untouchable, the ultimate weapon for him to use against his peers. 'When my father hears about this-!' had become something of a running joke among most of the students at Hogwarts since Draco had started attending.
… And now that father of his was powerless. Magicless. Weak and feeble and… altogether muggle. Perhaps that alone would help Narcissa in reshaping her son into something Harry could tolerate. Or perhaps it would only cause Draco to double down and become even worse. He didn't know yet, but at this point he also didn't care.
On Narcissa's end, she'd managed the situation beautifully. To the extent that some were suspicious she'd engineered it, even if they couldn't figure out how. Harry only knew that from checking in on Amelia and noticing that her notes mentioned Narcissa's startling competence.
Before the first week of Lucius' squibification had ended, Narcissa Malfoy had gotten all of her ducks in a row. She had herself appointed Acting Head of House Malfoy first and foremost, regaining access to House Malfoy's Gringotts Vaults as well as settling herself into House Malfoy's Wizengamot Seat. Then she'd replaced Lucius' name on all of those aforementioned magical contracts with her own, renewing their magic and getting things back on track with House Malfoy's business partners.
The Wizarding World seemed to still be rather split on whether Voldemort was actually back or not, of course. With Fudge out as Minister of Magic due to Sirius Black's innocence, there was no pressure from the top of the Ministry to stifle the information and declare it lies and falsehoods. At the same time however, the only sources of Voldemort's supposed return so far were a maddened prisoner in Azkaban and a magicless Lucius Malfoy.
The only thing anyone was willing to say for certain was that Lucius was out and Narcissa was now the one to talk to when it came to doing business with House Malfoy.
The second week, meanwhile, was capped off with the formal inquiry into Severus Snape and his actions as a Professor at Hogwarts for the past decade and a half. Harry didn't doubt that Dumbledore had done his best to prepare Snape for the inquiry. But even the Headmaster and Chief Warlock had a limit to the miracles he could perform.
It started with none of Snape's fellow Professors being willing to speak in his defense, even with Dumbledore's cajoling. It ended Snape himself being as unlikable as ever and completely incapable of presenting a sympathetic or charismatic figure to the governing body. His attitude did him no favors as every question asked of him only led to a caustic response.
Most of the Wizengamot was too old to have had the unfortunate 'privilege' of learning Potions under Professor Snape. However, that wasn't the case for all of them. Even if the Wizarding World was technically in a time of peace, they'd lost quite a few wizards and witches during Voldemort's first rise to power, and their surviving children had grown up and taken their seats… after spending seven years under Snape's not-so-tender mercies.
The things some of them had to say, and Snape's own inability to garner a single morsel of sympathy from the governing body, had prompted a motion to continue the formal inquiry… and even expand it. Specifically, the Wizengamot had decided to ask for public comments on Severus Snape and his impact on the Wizarding World at large.
Judging from the sneer on Snape's face and the panic on Dumbledore's when that motion passed, Harry could guess they both understood something of what was about to happen… a tidal wave of angry wizards and witches from the last generation of Hogwarts Students was about to come down on Snape like the fist of a vengeful god.
In the meantime, the Wizengamot, which just so happened to share members with most of Hogwarts' Board of Governors, had gone ahead and demanded Snape's ability to give and take House Points be completely removed… as well as assigning a member of the Wizarding Examinations Authority to not only sit in and audit all of his classes, but also double check all of his grading for discrepancies or issues.
Put simply, outside of arresting the bastard outright, which unfortunately Snape hadn't been QUITE belligerent enough to warrant, the Wizengamot had done everything they could to express their displeasure on such short notice. What might happen after the public comments came in… well, that was anyone's guess, but Harry suspected it wouldn't be good.
Finally, the third week since draining Lucius of his magic had arrived. And even though the Wizarding World was somewhat in an uproar over Sirius Black being exonerated of all crimes, Cornelius Fudge resigning as Minister, Lucius Malfoy becoming a muggle, and Severus Snape being raked over the coals by the Wizengamot… life continued all the same.
It especially continued at Hogwarts, where Albus Dumbledore seemed intent on keeping things 'business as usual' and making sure that everything seemed as 'normal' as possible. Even though the now positively ancient Griselda Marchbanks followed Snape around everywhere he went like a hawk, keeping an eye on the Professor and making sure he didn't step a single toe out of line. Even though the whole world seemed to be imploding outside of the Castle Walls.
And so… even with everything that was happening out there, the show had to go on. And that meant the Yule Ball would still take place. Unlike the rest of the Triwizard Tournament Tasks, the Yule Ball wasn't ensured by magical contract, so it technically didn't have to happen. But Dumbledore clearly considered it a point of pride that it still did. Harry didn't mind, of course. In fact, he would have been disappointed if the Yule Ball had been cancelled.
Especially since this time around, well… he'd taken the opportunity provided by this whole 'do-over' to fix the mistake he'd made last time.
Hermione had confided in him that it had only been a week after he'd asked her that Viktor Krum had approached her in the library and asked if she would go with him to the Ball. You snooze, you lose, and the Durmstrang Champion had been forced to be gracious as he accepted Hermione's apologetic rejection given that she already had a date to go with someone else.
And so, in a bit of déjà vu from the last time this event happened, but also in a much, much different manner than last time, Harry stands at the base of the staircase and smiles as Hermione Granger shows up at the top in all of her splendor and glory. She's done up just as beautifully as last time, a combination of muggle makeup and magical beauty treatments making her skin downright glimmer. Combined with her done-up hair and her gorgeous dress, she looks absolutely amazing.
She looks even better when her eyes alight upon him and a broad smile spreads across her face, causing her to hurry down to meet him at the foot of the stairs.
"Harry!"
"Hermione. You look beautiful."
Blushing prettily, Hermione takes a moment to look him up and down before throwing the compliment right back at him.
"You're looking quite handsome yourself, you know."
Harry just hums. He was indeed 'dressed to the nines' so to speak. His robes were the same dark green as last time, a color that went well with his eyes, but were also a bit more expensive as well. He was going to be side by side with Hermione after all, and he wanted this to be something of a new dawn for her. He'd probably have Rita write an article singing Hermione's praises just to be sure, but it would also help if there was word of mouth and grassroots talk about her going on.
Offering the beautifully dressed muggleborn his arm, Harry smiles as Hermione beams at him and eagerly loops her arm in his. Together, they continue on their way to the entrance, where they find the other Champions and their dates waiting for them. Amusingly, two of the three Champions are shooting… looks at Harry and Hermione.
Viktor Krum has wound up with a female witch from Durmstrang after striking out with Hermione and judging by the glower on the Durmstrang Witch's face, she knows full well that she wasn't Krum's first choice. Meanwhile, Fleur has still wound up with Roger Davies… but only seems to have eyes for Harry, no doubt still recalling their single kiss and the fact that he'd asked for nothing more from her.
Cedric and Cho were once again paired off, and from them Harry and Hermione only get smiles and nods. Nobody had expected Cedric to return so quickly after his injuries in the First Task, but while he's immensely scarred, it seems that House Diggory spared no expense in getting him back on his feet, and Cedric himself refused to stay down for the count.
Harry, who felt slightly guilty for not paying much attention to Cedric after his injuries, briefly wonders how they did it... but there's not enough time for any chatting to take place anyways, because the next thing they know, the doors are opening and Professor McGonagall is ushering them all in.
It's tradition after all for the Triwizard Champions and their dates to open the Yule Ball with a dance. Last time around, Harry could only admit to having made a fool of himself with his erstwhile date for the evening, Parvati Patil. While it was never his intention in coming back in time to relive and fix the minor embarrassments and awkward moments of his past… he's certainly not going to pass up the chance to do so. Especially when Hermione deserves the best from him that he can give her.
And so, as the Yule Ball begins, as the music starts, Harry and Hermione begin dancing right alongside the rest of the Champions. Harry can tell that Hermione is pleased and enthused with him taking the lead as she eagerly follows along. Given the size of their audience, their dancing remains appropriate of course, but Harry can tell there are some who are surprised at his sudden display of skill.
It's not like dancing is something he's practiced a ton, but ultimately it's all just movements and memorization in the end, and with the power Harry now has at his disposal, he can suffuse every fiber of his body with his magic, allowing him to have total awareness of not just himself, but his surroundings as well.
That's how, even though he can tell both Viktor and Fleur along with their dates are 'accidentally' drifting over towards him and Hermione, he's able to dodge them with ease and keep his and his date's distance from the two couples. At least in Viktor's case, it seems like it's the no-name witch he's with that's the problem. Fleur on the other hand, is definitely the one pushing for it on her end.
But Harry just ignores her in favor of paying all of his attention to Hermione. This night… this night would be about her, he's decided. No matter what.
Chapter 41: Fleur Delacour
Chapter Text
A/N: A look into the mind of Fleur Delacour~
-x-X-x-
Vexed. That was the word for it. As the four Triwizard Champions and their dates for the evening dance across the ballroom under the eyes of everyone else, Fleur Delacour finds herself most vexed.
It wasn't a state of being that the part veela was particularly used to, to tell the truth. Even though she was only a quarter-blooded veela on her mother's side, Fleur Delacour was very much used to getting her way. Between her gorgeous looks, her domineering personality, and her magical skill, there weren't many doors that had ever been closed to her. The amount of times she'd found herself stymied or denied what she wanted before coming to this blasted English School could be counted on one hand.
Now though, ever since arriving here, she'd found those moments of being denied quickly racking up until she was in danger of having to use her other hand as well to count them! And seemingly all of it could be laid at the feet of one young man… the Boy-Who-Lived.
Not that he was a boy at all, Fleur had come to learn. In spite of her initial skepticism regarding Harry Potter's capabilities, she was forced to acknowledge that he was in no way the 'little boy' that she'd first labeled him. Nor was he truly their inferior in any way. Despite entering the Triwizard Tournament on a technicality, despite being the fourth champion in a lineup that was only supposed to be three (it was even in the name, damn it!), he had more than proven his worthiness of standing alongside all of them.
In fact, he had ultimately proven himself MORE worthy than any of them, despite the extra years and additional experience they all should have had over him. Oh sure, he'd tied with Viktor Krum on the First Task, but only because of blatant favoritism from Krum's Headmaster. If it wasn't for Karkaroff's unwillingness to let Harry score higher than his own Champion, the younger wizard would have blown them all out of the water.
No, rather, he HAD blown them all out of the water, regardless of what the point tallies said. His magical prowess against the Hungarian Horntail, arguably the most dangerous dragon they'd fielded in the First Task, had been second to none. Certainly not second to her own. He'd defeated her fair and square, easily winning their wager. It hadn't even been close and Fleur… Fleur had been thoroughly put in her place by the young man.
Not wanting to give him an opportunity to think too hard about what he might demand from her, Fleur dragging Harry off immediately after the First Task to fulfill her side of the bet was more a matter of self-preservation than anything else.
Given time to mull over what he might want from her, the young man could have come up with any number of humiliating, scandalous desires. Or, he might have even gone the smarter route and demanded she handicap herself in some way in future tasks, so he would have a better chance of winning the entire tournament.
Fleur hadn't known when she'd dragged him off what the Second Task would entail but having no figured out the secret of the Golden Egg, she was well and truly glad that she hadn't given Harry any time to contemplate what sort of favor he could demand of her. She was going to be handicapped enough as is, given that her veela heritage made water the exact opposite of her favored element and ultimately her natural enemy.
That said, of all the things Harry Potter could have asked for… his request of a simple kiss had taken her aback. Perhaps it shouldn't have. It was a rather basic answer from an inexperienced young wizard to a very beautiful older witch, wasn't it? If one assumed Harry to be virginal and innocent, then he probably wouldn't even think of anything crasser than a chaste kiss.
Except Fleur knew better now, of course. There was nothing virginal, innocent, or naïve about the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry fucking Potter was a wolf in sheep's clothing and Fleur had walked right into his trap. Not only had he resisted her Veela Allure without so much as missing a beat or even showing that he felt it, but his kiss… his kiss had been positively intoxicating.
Fleur was no innocent maiden herself. She remained virginal of course, untouched when it came to true intercourse… but she had experimented here and there all the same. Fingers, tongues, touching this and that. Her veela heritage demanded no less of her. She was well-versed in kissing in particular, and had been eager to leave Harry wanting more after her ignoble defeat at his hands. This, she'd believed, was an arena in which she could effortlessly dominate and overtake him.
She'd been wrong. She'd been so, so wrong. Not only did her allure have absolutely no effect, but Harry had been the one to leave HER wanting more, as much as she would never admit it. It had taken her weeks afterwards to dissect exactly what he'd done, late nights spent researching the magical phenomenon and even sending carefully vague letters to her grandmother and her Veela Coven seeking answers.
In the end though, the answer had turned out to be just as simple as Harry's request for a single kiss. He hadn't performed any particular spell or done some ritual that made him irresistible to veela and immune to their allures. All he'd done… was offer up his magic for her to devour.
It was a simple move that nevertheless spoke to a level of skill, fine control, and power that had Fleur absolutely salivating at the thought of it. He had offered up his own magic through their kiss, and Fleur's heritage as a partial magical creature meant that she'd gobbled it up like some ravenous piggy. Humiliating? Yes. Intriguing? Also yes.
How had someone as young as Harry Potter learned to do something like that? How did he know exactly how to tease her and toy with her to prompt the reaction she'd had to him? And… how could she get him to do it again?
It was unfortunate that her initial reaction to supping from Harry's magic had been fear and alarm. On the one hand, Fleur knew she'd made the right call, taking a step back and figuring out what the fuck had happened rather than diving in with both eyes closed. However, at the same time that meant by the time she'd figured out what she wanted… Harry was already spoken for.
While it would have had the gossip hounds salivating if Fleur were to be the one to ask Harry to the Yule Ball, she still probably would have done it all the same if he hadn't already asked one of his year mates to go with him instead. Admittedly, this 'Hermione Granger' cleaned up rather well for a muggleborn. Her usage of both magical and muggle beauty techniques had left her positively glowing and downright gorgeous. Not as gorgeous as Fleur of course, but that was to be expected.
Still, look! Look at what the brunette had to do to mimic even a fraction of Fleur's beauty?! Side by side, comparing the two of them, Fleur still should have come out on top by a wide margin! So then why was Harry ignoring her? Why was he barely paying her even the slightest of mind?
The first song comes to an end, and so does the first dance. As this happens, Fleur notices how each other Champion Pair reacts. Viktor Krum takes his date by the hand and firmly pulls her from the dance floor, over to the refreshments. No doubt the Bulgarian Seeker has noticed how aggressive she was being towards Harry and his date and is none-too-pleased about it. Fleur had heard through the rumor mill that Viktor's first choice for the Yule Ball had been this muggleborn Granger as well, so she'd not surprised that the Durmstrang Witch he ended up taking instead was feeling insecure.
Meanwhile, Cedric Diggory slumps the moment that the song is over and other pairings begin moving out onto the dance floor. His date for the evening, an Asian Witch from Ravenclaw, has to support him as they make their way off of the dance floor as well. Unlike Krum and his date, who Fleur assumes will be dancing again before the night is over, she suspects Diggory and his will not.
It was ironic in a way. The Hufflepuff Wizard was the legitimate Hogwarts Champion, and yet in Fleur's mind, his and Harry's positions had been completely flipped. Now it was Cedric Diggory who she didn't think should still be in the tournament. He'd seemed like quite the capable man at first, between his dashing looks and easy confidence.
But both of those things were gone now. The looks had been replaced by immense scarring that was mostly covered up by bandages even now. And his confidence… that was very clearly shot too. Not that Fleur could truly blame him. Dragon Fire wasn't something anyone was said to be able to recover from easily, either physically or mentally.
Unfortunately for Diggory, the Triwizard Tournament didn't allow for quitters. So long as the contestants still drew breath, they were bound by the magic of the Goblet of Fire. Bound by magical contract to compete or die trying, all the way until a winner had been declared. Technically, she supposed if the people in charge really wanted to spare Diggory, they could have rushed to the end of the Tournament. But there had been zero talk of that. Everything was continuing exactly as intended.
It left Fleur wondering how Diggory would be expected to tackle the Second Task, given what she knew about it. Would they cart him out, have him dip his toes in the water, and hope that was considered 'participation'? Or did they actually intend to force him to give it an actual attempt and risk his already failing health even further as a result?
… In the end, it wasn't Fleur's problem. While she of course had a certain level of sympathy for the Hufflepuff Wizard, they'd all known what they were getting into when they submitted their names to the Goblet of Fire. Well, all of them except for Harry Potter if he was to be believed about someone else submitting his name for him.
Attention turning back to Harry with that thought, Fleur's lips purse when she sees that he and Granger are not leaving the dance floor like the other Champions. Without hesitation, Fleur gives her own date for the evening, a decent enough Hogwarts wizard named Roger Davies, a tug to keep him from leaving.
"I am not done dancing yet."
Very much enamored with her, both due to her allure and her natural good looks and exotic accent, Davies blinks before smiling.
"Oh! Of course!"
He certainly shows no issue with them continuing to dance… though unlike Krum, he obviously hadn't noticed Fleur's attention drifting from him either. That said, with so many more people on the dance floor now, Fleur no longer pushes for them to be quite so close to Harry and his date… though she also doesn't let the other pair ever fully out of her sight.
Harry Potter might be intent on ignoring her, but Fleur Delacour was equally intent on not being ignored. He knew what he'd done to her, damn it. He knew precisely how he'd given her a taste of utter divinity, only to then pull away and leave her wanting more. It was most vexing, to use that word again, but Fleur refused to be vexed forever. She refused to let Harry win. One way or another, she was going to get what she wanted out of him!
Eventually, the night dragging on, Potter and Granger do leave the dance floor. Fleur does as well, because even her stamina has its limits. However, after only a few moments of taking in the refreshments, Hermione Granger suddenly takes Harry by the hand and draws him out of the Great Hall, exiting towards the gardens.
Eyes narrowing, Fleur doesn't hesitate to send her own date on a wild goose chase, telling him with a coy smile and a touch of his chest that she wants a very specific drink that she knows he's not ever going to be able to find. Not because it's foreign, though he'll likely assume as such when he finally gives up. But rather, because it doesn't even exist to begin with.
With Davies subsequently occupied, Fleur takes her time in making her way to the gardens as well. She's very aware of everyone's eyes still on her, and well used to being the center of attention. It's frustrating at times, but if there's one thing that Fleur has learned over the years, it's how to use moments to slip away despite how many people she draws with her mere presence.
Waiting for just one such moment, Fleur finally takes her chance and disappears out into the gardens in an instant in time when she's sure nobody is looking her way. Moving swiftly, she avoids the eyes of those already in the gardens as well, even as her own eyes scope out possible routes that Harry and his date could have taken after leaving the Yule Ball.
Finally, after a worrying moment where it seems like she might have actually lost them, Fleur hears soft noises that draw her attention to an otherwise empty corner of the gardens. Creeping closer, the noises gain volume and distinction, until her eyes widen as she realizes exactly what she's listening to.
Put simply, she's hearing the tell-tale sounds of a woman going down on a man, fellating his cock with her mouth. But there's no way this could be the pair she's looking for, right?
"Fuck Hermione…"
Fleur's eyes widen as she hears Harry's voice calling out to his date from the same direction as the judicious sucking noises. It would seem she was incorrect… it's definitely the pair she's looking for.
Creeping ever closer, Fleur finally finds a vantage point to spy on the two from. Indeed, there's Hermione Granger, the muggleborn kneeling before Harry and… and sucking his cock. From what little Fleur can see with the brunette's head in the way, he's quite well-endowed. Meanwhile, Hermione seems to be very enthusiastic about this, much to Fleur's surprise. She'd taken the Hogwarts Witch to be somewhat shy.
Still… what was she going to do here, now that she'd stumbled upon this debauched sight? All she'd wanted was to extract some more of Harry's magic from him, presumably through another kiss. But this… this opened up an entire realm of possibility…
Chapter 42: Interrupted
Chapter Text
A/N: Fleur interrupts... but is she going to get what she wanted?
-x-X-x-
Hermione would be lying to herself if she said she didn't intend this to happen in some fashion. Ever since Harry had brought her into his confidence, ever since he'd invited her to the Yule Ball, she had desired a deepening in their relationship. No, before that even… Hermione Granger had been crushing on Harry Potter since all the way back in her First Year.
How could she not? It was bad enough that Harry had saved her life from a Cave Troll. But on top of that, he listened to her. He actually took her words into consideration. He used her advice in a way no one ever had before. Of course she'd fallen for him and fallen for him hard. And of course, given an opportunity to show him that, she'd gone ahead and seized ahold of it with both hands.
Bobbing up and down on his cock, the brunette looks up into Harry's eyes, her tongue swirling around the tip of his dick whenever she's ascending instead of descending. She can do this all night long if she has to, what with the cushioning charm she cast before dropping to her knees. She'll stay here as long as it takes to make Harry feel good, and to make sure he understands just how much he means to her.
She'll-
"Well, well~ What do we have here?"
Hermione's eyes widen as the familiar accented voice of one Fleur Delacour fills her ears. The heels of the French Witch can be heard clicking on stone as she approaches them, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. How?! How had she found them?! Oh Merlin, was her date with her?
"Fleur."
Harry's voice is at least even and controlled as he acknowledges the blonde's presence. He's not going to be spooked so easily. But Hermione isn't him. She doesn't have his insane self-confidence. Even if she did, she's certainly not going to continue sucking his cock while another woman watches.
However, just as Hermione is starting to pull back off of his dick, a hand falls upon the back of her head and pushes. Not Harry's hand… but Fleur's.
"Oh mon cher, do not stop on my account. I insist. You must continue pleasing your man… how else will you be able to keep him?"
A shiver runs down Hermione's spine at the layered threat in Fleur's voice as she speaks directly into the muggleborn's ear. Was Fleur threatening to steal Harry from her? T-That would never work… would it? Surely not. Harry… he liked her well enough. She couldn't say for sure that he loved her, not in the same way she loved him, but he wouldn't just toss her aside like trash, would he?
Desperate worries fill her head and Hermione bobs down Harry's cock again all of her own volition. Fleur's hand might be in her hair, but she's the one choosing to continue sucking her date's throbbing mast, not wanting him to think she's in any way slacking. She doesn't want Harry to abandon her.
"That's a good girl, mon cher. But if you really want to impress a young man, you need to be ready to reveal more."
Hermione's eyes widen as she feels Fleur's free hand reach around the side and grab at the front of her dress. Surely she wouldn't, right?!
"Fleur."
Actually, she probably would have… if Harry hadn't finally intervened. Hermione shudders as an intense pressure fills the air, blanketing the area around the three of them in a sensation of dense, magical might. For Hermione, it feels almost warm... inviting even. It feels like safety and home and love all wrapped up in one.
She realizes it doesn't feel like that to Fleur when the blonde lets go of her all of the sudden, both her hands leaving Hermione's body. Blinking, Hermione finally pulls back off of Harry's cock now that Fleur's hand is no longer on the back of her head. She turns to regard the part veela kneeling beside and slightly behind her.
Fleur doesn't have eyes for her anymore though. She only has eyes for Harry, and they're currently as wide as they can be as the French Witch trembles there on her knees before him, staring up at Harry with an expression of fear but also wanton lust on her face.
This second time that Harry said Fleur's name wasn't anything like the first. This time, his voice was laden with meaning. His tone brooked no argument. And ultimately, he'd shut her down with nothing but that single word.
"You're interrupting, Fleur."
"I… I…"
"Why did you think that would be acceptable, I wonder? Is it because you're used to always getting your way? Is it because under all that haughtiness, arrogance, and over-confidence, you're just a spoiled little brat?"
Fleur flinches back as if physically struck by Harry's words. She whimpers, her lower lip wobbling, and for a second Hermione thinks that she might choose to flee the scene right then and there. But then… Fleur's eyes dart down, caught by the movement of Harry's still-twitching erection. And once she lays eyes on his length properly, she can't look away. She freezes in place, just staring at his dick as it leaks a bit of precum from the tip.
Hermione watches on blankly, not quite sure what to do now. Fleur had clearly come in intending to take charge and maybe have some fun with both of them. Instead… well, instead she'd clearly bit off more than she could bargain for. Harry wasn't the kind of man who let anyone else take charge of him. Especially not these days.
Reaching down, Harry takes ahold of his cock and strokes it in Fleur's direction before waggling it back and forth. The blonde's big blue eyes follow it's every movement unerringly, like a dog with a bone. She can't look away.
"Is this what you want, Fleur? Is this what you're so desperate for?"
Shakily, seemingly at a loss for words, Fleur nods her head up and down. The movements are rather jerking, almost like she herself can't believe what she's doing. Hermione watches on, finding herself curious by the reaction now. Did it have anything to do with Fleur's veela heritage? Was that what was at work here? Where part magical creatures like the Beauxbatons Champion more attuned to magic? Could Fleur sense Harry's magic even better than Hermione could, and found it to be positively exhilarating?
Was she-?
"Hermione."
Pulled from her thoughts, blushing a little bit at getting caught falling into study mode, Hermione looks up to see Harry smiling warmly down at her.
"This is your night, 'Mione. Ms. Delacour will leave, if that is your wish. And you and I can move elsewhere, to continue this with a greater level of privacy."
Her night. Elsewhere. Privacy. Hermione's blush intensifies a bit as she realizes just how off the rails this has all gotten. She should have ensured privacy before this even started. She should never have decided a small corner of the gardens was 'good enough' for her to just drop to her knees and start giving Harry a blowjob!
At the same time… Fleur is looking at her now with big, hopeful eyes. That wasn't remotely fair in the slightest. Part of her wants to send her away. Part of her wants to let Harry take her 'elsewhere' so they can continue. And yet… a larger part of her wants otherwise, made up as it is of two very different ideas. Idea Number One… she can't look into Fleur's eyes and not feel a little bit like she wants to give the poor dear what she wants. Idea Number Two… she kind of wants a little bit of revenge on the part veela for interrupting them and trying to act all snooty like she did.
And so… Hermione reaches up, presenting a confident façade that she doesn't really feel, and grabs Fleur Delacour by her carefully done-up hair bun. The older witch gasps at this, looking at Hermione with wide eyes… but realizing that Hermione holds her 'fate' in her hands, Fleur ultimately stays quiet… even as Hermione guides her forward in the same way she'd tried to do, pushing her towards Harry's throbbing, glistening cock.
As she does this, Hermione also looks up at Harry, giving him a somewhat fragile smile.
"It would be a shame to send her away, Harry. Especially when she can be useful to us."
Understanding dawns in his emerald eyes, even as he slowly nods. Then, his gaze sharpens as he directs it at Fleur.
"Well, Fleur? Can you be useful to us? Can you be… obedient?"
Fleur shivers, but her eyes dart down to his cock and go crossed at finding it mere centimeters from her lips now.
"Y-Yes…"
They've successfully turned the tables on the Beauxbatons Champion. Well, Harry has anyways. Hermione is fully aware that all she's doing here is building off of his power, his strength. Still, better than nothing. Pushing Fleur forward, she proceeds to guide the older witch down Harry's cock, watching in a state of fascination as Fleur's lips spread and spread.
Truthfully, Hermione hadn't been doing the best with Harry's member before Fleur showed up. Oh sure, she doubted Harry would ever tell her off, or complain, or do anything but smile and tell her she'd done well. But just because he might not judge her for her inexperience and inadequacies doesn't mean Hermione won't judge herself.
She'd tried to practice a little bit with some phallic shapes before the Yule Ball, but nothing she'd done in that regard could have prepared her for Harry's true size. His cock, once it got hard, was like nothing she'd ever considered possible, and while she could take a few inches into her mouth, anything past that got rather dicey.
The same cannot be said for Fleur… or rather, she just doesn't seem to care about her own limitations in the way Hermione did.
"Glughk! Glughk! Glughk!"
Hermione is still holding onto Fleur's hair bun, but it's Fleur who's doing all of the work at this point, and in the process taking Harry far deeper down her throat than Hermione would have ever thought possible. The size of Fleur's dainty neck bulging with Harry's cock as her cheeks alternate between sucking in and puffing out… its somewhat mesmerizing, truth be told.
Harry's throbbing member pushes down Fleur Delacour's esophagus and into her gullet without reservation, and though she chokes, gags, and sputters upon his cock, the part veela never once complains or tries to pull away. Instead, her eyes remain fixed on Harry's face as Hermione watches on… and Hermione begins to feel as though she might be left behind anyways.
Feeling some small but growing measure of regret at having allowed Fleur this much, Hermione looks for something to do, some way to take back a measure of control… before noticing the sheer amount of saliva and drool coalescing on Fleur's chin. The French Witch was getting dangerously close to making a mess of her dress, and with that realization combined with Fleur's last attempt at dominance, an idea comes to Hermione's mind.
"You're doing well, Fleur… but you said it yourself. If you really want to impress Harry, you need to be ready to reveal more."
Letting go of Fleur's hair bun, Hermione reaches around, grabs the front of the other witch's dress, and pulls it down. The straps of the dress come off of Fleur's shoulders with ease, allowing for the top of the dress to fall away from her otherwise naked breasts. There's no way to wear a bra with a dress like the one Fleur has on, though to be fair, Hermione didn't know if Fleur wore bras in the first place.
Regardless, Fleur's pale, perfectly shaped tits are now out in the open… and Hermione wastes no time in playing with them, mostly for Harry's viewing pleasure. Looking up into her date and long-time crush's green eyes, Hermione gives him a coy grin as she fondles Fleur's tits, squeezing and pinching at the blonde's nipples.
Fleur squeaks, squeals, and mewls, all sounds muffled by Harry's cock… and indeed, all sounds that vibrate up and down the length of his dick as she deep throats his member. The added pleasure of this experience has Fleur moaning up a storm, which in turn has Harry groaning all the more loudly. Until finally…
"I'm getting close, ladies. Hermione, where should I cum?"
"Mmph! Hulghk!"
Fleur's inaudible protest along with her driving herself deeper down his cock make it obvious where SHE wants him to cum. She wants his seed right down the back of her throat. She wants to swallow, and from the look of things, she wants it desperately. Hermione's earlier musings on Fleur's attraction to Harry being something to do with her veela heritage and natural instincts to seek out large sources of magic come back to the forefront for a moment before she quickly gets herself back under control.
Truthfully, Hermione is greatly tempted to have Harry cum all over Fleur's face and tits. The French Witch will be able to clean it all up with a single spell, but it'll still be humiliating in the moment, and it would teach her right. And yet… Hermione wasn't a terribly vindictive person… or at least she liked to think she wasn't. So in the end…
"Make her swallow it, Harry. Make her drink every last drop."
Fleur freezes for a moment, before desperately sucking Harry's cock all the harder, her cheeks suctioning in quite impressively. Chuckling, Harry shrugs his shoulders and then plants a hand on top of Fleur Delacour's head, holding her steady as he proceeds to cum down the back of her throat.
The blonde's neck convulses as she swallows and swallows, guzzling it all down. There's nothing prim or proper about her actions, nothing to be admired, and certainly nothing graceful or elegant. Still, she drinks pretty much all of it, save for a single line of white, viscous seed that drizzles down the side of her otherwise pristine, perfect features.
As Harry finishes cumming and lets go of Fleur's hair, Hermione blinks, the part veela collapsing back into her arms and shuddering in orgasmic bliss. Hermione's mouth opens and then closes without uttering a word as she takes in the sight of Fleur Delacour, clearly having just climaxed explosively, her eyes rolled back in her head in utter bliss.
"Shall we go, Hermione? She got what she wanted, in the end… and if she wanted more, she should have asked for it don't you think? But you... well, the night is still young. And I think you deserve a reward for being so magnanimous."
Hermione blushes, before glancing down at Fleur's insensate form. Harry was right, they'd given Fleur what she wanted. And Hermione was very excited to find out what her reward would be.
And yet…