Fleur apparated to the front gate of her Parisian apartment just as the sun began its descent toward the horizon. The journey from her boutique had taken longer than expected, delayed by an incident that required her personal attention. Some visiting dignitaries from Bulgaria had gotten into a heated argument with some locals, and Fleur's fluency in both languages made her the natural choice to mediate.
By the time everything was sorted, evening had arrived in full. Her parents were still away on their little European trip, and her sister was off to spend the night with her mystery fling. Which meant Fleur had the entire house to herself, which was a rare luxury that she'd been looking forward to for a while now.
She packed whatever little items she needed and apparated over to her parents' home. It was empty, as she'd expected. Fleur walked over to her bedroom, passing by her sister's. The door to her bedroom was open, and Fleur couldn't help but chuckle when she saw the hastily discarded items of clothing Gabrielle had worn that day. She'd been in quite a hurry, from the looks of things.
Fleur deposited her small bag in her room and walked back downstairs, finding herself some cool wine. Swirling the crimson liquid in the glass, she moved to the sitting room window, the one that overlooked the neighboring property.
Harry's house sat just beyond the wall, its windows glowing warmly in the moonlit night. She smiled as she recalled how he'd found a place here.
She'd arranged for him to move here after the war had ended and he'd been desperate to escape Britain and its endless demands on him. Her parents had been happy to help, arranging the acquisition of a lavish private property nearby to someone who'd not just saved their daughters but also the wizarding world.
Fleur had visited him regularly before her work had started demanding more and more of her time, checking in to make sure he was settling well. They'd become genuine friends, easy and comfortable with each other. She'd always found him attractive, of course. That hadn't changed since her days at Hogwarts during the Triwizard Tournament. But she'd never acted on it, content to keep things platonic.
Now, staring at his cottage, her senses suddenly picked up a peculiar energy signature. It was strong, much stronger than she'd ever felt from Harry. Her breath hitched, goosebumps shooting across her skin at the sheer intensity of the sensations that assaulted her veela senses.
Her brows furrowed, and her steps carried her toward the front door before conscious thought could intervene.
The path between properties was well worn, used frequently by both families over the years. Fleur's heels clicked against the stones as she approached Harry's home, her veela senses growing more insistent with every step.
He was home. And he was not alone, if the intensity of the signature was any indication. She was more sensitive to sex and pleasure than most veela, but this was something else. Harry's presence was dominant, and it was unlike any other she'd come across.
But there was more. She could sense another presence woven through Harry's, so intimately entwined that Fleur had to concentrate to separate them. Feminine, uncontrolled, and achingly familiar. Her veela senses catalogued it automatically, recognizing the magical signature she'd known for years.
Gabrielle.
Fleur stopped walking entirely, processing this new information. Her sister and Harry Potter. They were together. Intimately together, if the waves of satisfied contentment rolling off the house were any indication.
Well. That certainly explained Gabrielle's mysterious friend and her reluctance to share details over lunch.
Heat bloomed low in Fleur's belly, unexpected and intense. Her body responded to the sensual energy emanating from the house before her mind could catch up, her nipples tightening beneath her blouse and warmth pooling between her thighs. The veela in her recognized what was happening inside that house and responded to it instinctively.
However, it was not just the sensual energy that affected her so much. It was the realization that despite being a newly matured veela, her sister's sensual energy didn't even compare to what she could feel of Harry. The sensation was overwhelming.
She pressed a hand to her stomach, trying to steady herself. This was ridiculous. She was a grown woman, not some hormonal teenager getting aroused by proximity to sexual activity. But her veela heritage didn't care about logic or propriety. It sensed pleasure, satisfaction, and the primal dance of the dominant male force claiming a woman, and it longed for the same.
Fleur took a deep breath, forcing her body under control. She could turn around, pretend she'd never come here, and let Gabrielle maintain her privacy. It would be the respectful thing to do.
But curiosity won out, as it always did with Fleur. And this was Harry. One of her oldest friends and someone she trusted implicitly. If Gabrielle was going to have a casual summer fling with anyone, Fleur couldn't think of a better choice.
She continued up the path to his front door, her body still humming with unwanted arousal that she ruthlessly suppressed. The windows were open to catch the evening breeze, and she could hear sounds from inside. Movement, voices too low to make out words, and the occasional breathless laugh—Gabrielle's laugh—that sent another spike of heat through her.
Fleur knocked firmly, three sharp raps that would carry through the house.
The sounds inside ceased immediately. She bit back a knowing smile, imagining the sudden scramble happening inside. Her veela senses painted a clear picture even without seeing them. She imagined tangled sheets, hastily grabbed clothing, and whispered curses as they tried to make themselves presentable.
Hurried footsteps approached the door after a little over a minute, and Fleur arranged her expression into something innocent and friendly. The door opened to reveal Harry, his hair thoroughly disheveled and his shirt still not fully buttoned up. It was clearly thrown on in a hurry. His feet were bare, and there was a faint love bite on his neck that she couldn't help but want to deepen.
"Fleur." His expression cycled through surprise, comprehension, and resignation in rapid succession. "This is unexpected."
"Harry, I hope I'm not interrupting anything." She kept her tone light, though her eyes traveled over him with more than casual interest. His shirt hung open at the collar, revealing the strong column of his throat and the upper portion of his chest. She could see the faint sheen of sweat on his skin and smell the musk of recent sex clinging to him. Her body responded on instinct, another pulse of heat making her acutely aware of her own arousal. "I saw your lights on and thought I'd stop by. It's been too long since we caught up properly."
Harry's jaw worked for a moment, clearly trying to decide how to handle this. Then he sighed and stepped back, pulling the door wider. "You'd better come in."
"Thank you." Fleur swept past him into the main room, deliberately letting her body brush against his as she moved. The contact was brief but electric, sending a shiver down her spine that she hoped he did notice.
She smirked as she looked around. The evidence of their evening was everywhere for those who knew how to look. Two wine glasses on the table, both empty. Dishes still in the drying rack by the sink. A woman's hairband thrown on the sofa that definitely belonged to Gabrielle. And most tellingly, the heavy scent of sex and satisfaction that hung in the air, invisible to most but unmistakable to Fleur's enhanced senses.
Her body was responding more strongly now, arousal building despite her best efforts to ignore it. She could feel her knickers growing damp, her breasts heavy and sensitive beneath her blouse. This was what happened when veela were exposed to the aftermath of good sex, especially when the man had such potent aura. Their bodies responded instinctively, preparing for their own pleasure.
"Looking for something?" Harry asked dryly, closing the door behind her. He'd clearly seen her looking around.
"Someone actually, yes." Fleur turned to face him, letting her eyes travel over him slowly. The top two buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, the fabric parting to give her a nice, enticing look of his chest. She wanted to reach out and fix it, let her fingers linger on his skin. She bit her lower lip hotly. This sensation was new to her as well. "My sister, to be precise. I assume she's here?"
Right on cue, Gabrielle appeared at the top of the stairs. She'd clearly made more effort than Harry to look presentable, dressed in her trousers and blouse from earlier, though both were rumpled and her hair was still tousled. Her nipples were poking through the fabric. It was clear that she was not wearing a bra, and Fleur presumed her knickers were also thrown somewhere in this house. Her feet were also bare, and her lips were swollen from kissing. The flush on her cheeks spoke of recent orgasm, and Fleur felt another uncontrolled spike of arousal at the knowledge.
"Fleur." Gabrielle descended the stairs slowly, as if approaching a potentially dangerous animal. "What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same question." Fleur settled herself on the sofa. "But I think I can guess the answer."
The two younger people exchanged glances, having some silent conversation that Fleur couldn't quite read. She took the opportunity to study Harry more openly, letting her gaze travel from his bare feet up his long legs, over the narrow hips and flat stomach concealed by his thin shirt, and then to the broad shoulders and strong arms. He was beautiful, had always been beautiful, but seeing him like this, thoroughly debauched and smelling of sex, was doing things to her body that she really liked. Her toes curled and her fingers tightened on the sofa.
Finally, Gabrielle sighed and came to sit in the armchair across from her sister. "This isn't what it looks like."
"Really?" Fleur raised an eyebrow, forcing her attention away from Harry and back to Gabrielle. "Because it looks like you've been having some very energetic sex with Harry here, possibly multiple times if I'm reading the sexual energy here correctly. Which you know I usually am."
Harry made a sound that might have been a laugh. Gabrielle's cheeks flushed pinker, and Fleur felt a stab of arousal at seeing her sister's obvious satisfaction. The veela in her responded to evidence of pleasure the way humans might respond to the scent of food when hungry.
"Fine," Gabrielle said after a moment. "It's exactly what it looks like. Happy now?"
"Ecstatic." Fleur grinned, and she meant it. Her tone was filled with genuine warmth even as her body continued its own greedy response. "I've only got one issue with you."
"And what would that be?" Gabrielle asked with a raised eyebrow.
"You could have mentioned it was Harry when we talked at lunch. Would have saved me from being surprised."
"You didn't ask who it was."
"You were intentionally evasive." Fleur replied and turned her attention back to Harry, who'd moved to lean against the kitchen counter. The position pulled his shirt tight across his chest, and she could see the outline of muscle beneath. "And you. How long has this been going on, really?"
"Couple days." Harry's tone was careful, clearly trying to gauge how Fleur felt about this revelation. "We got talking a bit earlier this week and just sort of… clicked."
"Clicked." Fleur let the word hang in the air. Her thighs pressed together beneath her skirt, seeking friction she absolutely should not need right now but really wanted. "Is that what we're calling it?"
"Fleur." Gabrielle's voice held a warning note. "Don't start."
"Start what? I'm just trying to understand the situation." Fleur leaned back into the sofa, taking on a casual posture that belied her body's insistent arousal. "You tell me you're having a casual fling with a friend. You neglect to mention said friend is Harry, who happens to be our neighbor and someone we've known for years. And now I find you both here, clearly having spent the better part of the evening engaged in activities that are making my veela senses go absolutely wild."
She hadn't meant to say that last part, but it slipped out anyway. Both Harry and Gabrielle stared at her with varying degrees of surprise.
"Your veela senses?" Harry asked carefully.
"You know we're very attuned to sexual energy, Harry." Fleur forced herself to maintain eye contact despite the heat flooding her cheeks. "And you two have been generating quite a lot of it. Especially you. Morgana, it's like walking into a room that's been hotboxed with pheromones and arousal. And the way you've completely dwarfed Gabrielle's energy despite her being a newly matured veela…"
"Oh." Gabrielle's eyes widened with understanding. "Oh. Fleur, I'm sorry, I didn't think about that."
"It's fine." Fleur waved a hand dismissively, though fine was the last thing she felt. Her body was practically vibrating with need, responding to the saturated sexual energy in the house. "I'm not angry, if that's what you're worried about. Surprised, most definitely. But not unhappy."
Harry cleared his throat. "Want some wine? This conversation feels like it needs wine."
"Please." Fleur watched as he moved to the kitchen, her eyes tracking the flex of muscles beneath his shirt. She imagined those same muscles straining as he moved above Gabrielle, inside Gabrielle, and had to press her thighs together harder to suppress the bolt of arousal that accompanied the thought.
This was weird. She shouldn't be getting turned on thinking about her sister having sex. But it wasn't Gabrielle her body was responding to, she realized. It was Harry. The knowledge of what he'd been doing, what he was capable of, and the evidence of his prowess written in the satisfied glow surrounding her sister and what she herself could sense.
Harry returned with wine, pouring for all three of them. Fleur accepted her glass gratefully, taking a long drink to steady herself. Excellent choice, crisp and dry with hints of citrus. She wondered if his mouth would taste like wine if she kissed him.
No. Bad Fleur. Not helpful right now, she thought to herself, stifling a giggle that threatened to erupt.
"So," she said, forcing her mind back to safer territory. "You're both adults. What you do is your business. I'm not here to lecture or interfere."
"Then why are you here?" Gabrielle asked, though her tone had lost its defensive edge.
"Originally? To visit Harry and catch up. We haven't talked properly in so long now." Fleur took another sip of wine, grateful for something to do with her hands. She glanced at him over the rim of the glass, feeling thrilled at the gentle smile he gave her. He was so sweet.
"And now?" Gabrielle probed.
"Now?" Fleur grinned. "Now, I'm fascinated by this development and you best believe I'd be shamelessly prying for details."
"There aren't that many details to share," Gabrielle said, fighting a smile now. The tension had drained from the room. "We're having fun together. No commitments, no expectations. Just enjoying each other's company for the summer. Just like I told you."
"Friends with benefits," Fleur supplied with a grin.
"Exactly."
"And it's working for you both?" Fleur directed the question at Harry, genuinely wanting to know despite her body's distraction. She trusted him, had for years, but this was her sister.
"It is." Harry met her eyes steadily, and Fleur felt heat coil low in her belly at the directness of his gaze. "We're on the same page about what this is and what it isn't. No games, no hidden agendas. Just two people who like each other and are mature enough to enjoy that without complicating things."
"Good." Fleur meant it, even as her treacherous body imagined what it might be like to have a similar arrangement with him. "Then I'm happy for you both."
"Really?" Gabrielle sounded skeptical. "You're not going to lecture me about being careful or give Harry the overprotective sister speech?"
"What would be the point?" Fleur finished her wine and set the glass aside. "You're about to join the workforce, Gabrielle. You're old enough to make your own choices. And Harry's proven himself trustworthy over the years. If I was going to object to anyone, he wouldn't even come to my mind."
The words came out more loaded than she'd intended, carrying implications she hadn't meant to reveal. Harry's eyes sharpened on her face, and she wondered if he'd caught the subtext.
"That's unexpectedly reasonable of you," Gabrielle observed.
"I have my moments." Fleur stood. "Well, I should let you two get back to your evening. I didn't mean to interrupt. Or maybe I did. But just to tease you a bit."
Gabrielle rolled her eyes at that. "You're leaving already?"
"I only stopped by to visit Harry for a bit. Now that I've done that and accidentally discovered your secret liaison, I should head home." Fleur moved toward the door, acutely aware of Harry's presence as she passed him. She could smell him more strongly now, that intoxicating mixture of clean sweat and sex and his unique cologne. Her body responded with another pulse of arousal so intense it nearly made her stumble.
"Unless," she heard herself say before wisdom could intervene, "you'd rather I stayed? I could regale Harry with embarrassing stories from your childhood. Especially certain fangirl moments regarding the previous boy-who-lived."
"Absolutely not!" Gabrielle laughed, the last traces of tension finally dissipating. "Go home, Fleur. We'll talk tomorrow."
"Actually," Fleur said, pausing with her hand on the doorknob, "if you two wanted some change in scenery or spice things up a bit, you could use our home too. Maman and Papa won't be back for a while now, and I have my work in Paris. Pretty sure you'd find it thrilling doing it there."
"Not a bad idea," Harry grinned, his voice doing things to her insides that were completely inappropriate.
"I'm always full of such bright ideas," Fleur smirked as she opened the door, letting in the evening air. It did nothing to cool the heat in her body. "Just fix the sheets or any other surface up when you're done, please. There are some things no one needs to see the evidence of."
"Fleur!" Gabrielle's mortified expression was absolutely worth the comment.
"What? I'm being practical." Fleur smiled warmly at both of them, though her eyes lingered on Harry perhaps a moment too long. "Enjoy your evening."
She stepped outside before she could say anything else revealing, closing the door firmly behind her. The evening air was still warm but felt cool against her flushed skin. Fleur took several deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart and the insistent throb between her legs.
This was problematic. Very problematic.
She'd known Harry for years, had always found him attractive in an abstract sort of way. But walking into that house, being surrounded by the evidence of his sexual prowess, watching him stand there looking thoroughly debauched and completely edible, had woken something in her that refused to be ignored.
Fleur made her way back to her childhood home slowly, her body humming with unsatisfied arousal. Every step sent friction through her core, reminding her of exactly how empty she felt. Her body craved good sex. Really good sex, the kind that would leave her boneless and satisfied.
Like Gabrielle. Exactly like Gabrielle.
xXx
Back inside Harry's house, Gabrielle collapsed onto the sofa with an explosive sigh. "That was mortifying."
"Could have been worse." Harry closed and locked the door, engaging the privacy wards for good measure. "She could have arrived ten minutes earlier."
"Don't." Gabrielle covered her face with her hands. "I can't even think about that without wanting to die."
Harry crossed to sit beside her, gently pulling her hands away from her face. "Hey. It's fine. Fleur doesn't care, you heard her. She's happy for us."
"I know." Gabrielle let her hands fall to her lap, meeting his eyes. "It's just weird having her know. Makes it more real somehow."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"No. Maybe. I don't know." She leaned against him, letting her head rest on his shoulder. "I liked having this be just ours for a while."
"We can still keep it mostly private." Harry's arm came around her shoulders, holding her close. His body was warm and solid against hers, familiar now in a way that shouldn't have developed so quickly. "Fleur knowing doesn't change anything between us unless we let it."
"You're right." Gabrielle tilted her face up to kiss him softly. "Sorry. I'm being weird about this."
"You're not." He kissed her back, slow and sweet. "Though I have to admit, your sister is slightly terrifying."
"You have no idea." Gabrielle said with a smile that slowly morphed into a smirk. "Did you see the way she was looking at you?"
Harry pulled back slightly, pretending not to know what she was talking about. "What do you mean?"
"Come on." Gabrielle shifted to straddle his lap, settling against him with ease. His hands automatically grabbed her hips, pulling her firmly against him. "I'm not blind. She was checking you out pretty thoroughly."
"She was not," Harry chuckled.
"She absolutely was." Gabrielle rolled her hips experimentally, feeling him already hardening beneath her. "I know my sister, Harry. And I know that look. She was interested."
Harry's hands tightened on her hips, holding her still before she could distract him completely. "Even if that's true, which I'm not saying it is, it doesn't matter. I'm with you right now. I'd rather not think about another woman."
"It's not like we're in a relationship," Gabrielle snorted, leaning down to nip at his jaw. "Which means you're not taken. If Fleur wants to make a move, she'd be well within her rights."
"That's a weird thing to say about your sister."
"Is it?" Gabrielle pulled back to look at him properly. "We're both adults. We both know what we want. And honestly? If you two did hook up, I wouldn't be upset. Fleur deserves some fun, and you're clearly excellent at providing it."
Harry looked genuinely baffled. "I can't tell if you're being serious right now."
"Completely serious." Gabrielle kissed him again, deeper this time. "Now stop talking about my sister and take me back to bed. We got interrupted earlier and I'm nowhere near done with you."
"Demanding," Harry murmured against her lips, but he was already standing, lifting her with him.
Gabrielle wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her toward the stairs. "You love it."
"I really do."
They made it to the bedroom without further discussion of Fleur or her potential interest. And if Harry's performance that night was particularly enthusiastic, neither of them mentioned it might have anything to do with feeling watched or desired by someone other than the woman in his arms.
Some things were better left unexamined. At least for now.
xXx
Fleur let herself into the house and went straight for the liquor cabinet, pouring herself a generous glass of wine. The first sip did nothing to quell the heat in her body, but the second helped marginally. By the third, she felt almost normal again.
Almost.
Fleur moved to the sitting room window, the one that overlooked Harry's property. Lights still glowed in the windows, and her enhanced senses could detect renewed activity inside. They'd clearly decided not to let her interruption dampen their evening plans.
Heat flooded her core again as her imagination supplied vivid details of what must've been going on inside that house. She imagined Harry's hands on Gabrielle's skin, his mouth trailing down her body, and his cock sliding deep inside her tight heat. She imagined the erotic sounds Gabrielle would make, and the way she'd arch and writhe beneath him. She could feel the flex of his muscles as he drove into her, and the intensity on his face as he chased his release.
Fleur's hand moved between her legs before conscious thought could intervene, pressing against the damp fabric of her underwear. She was soaked, had been since she'd first entered Harry's property and been hit by that wall of sexual energy. Her body was demanding relief, and there was no one here to give it.
Except herself.
She moved away from the window, heading upstairs to her bedroom with determined steps. Her clothes came off quickly, dropped carelessly on the floor as she climbed onto her bed. The sheets were cool against her overheated skin, and the sensation made her shiver.
Fleur spread her legs, one hand moving immediately to her breast while the other slid between her thighs. She was dripping wet, her clit swollen and sensitive beneath her fingers. The first touch sent sparks of pleasure through her body, making her gasp.
She thought about Harry as she touched herself. She just couldn't help it. His green eyes darkening with lust, his strong hands gripping her hips, his mouth hot and demanding against hers. She imagined what it would feel like to have him inside her, stretching her, filling her, fucking her with the same intensity that had left Gabrielle looking so thoroughly satisfied.
Her fingers circled her clit faster, the other hand pinching and rolling her nipple. She was close already, wound tight from the exposure to sexual energy and her own vivid imagination. A few more strokes and she'd tumble over the edge.
But she forced herself to slow down, to draw it out. This was the first time in years she'd felt genuine arousal rather than going through familiar motions of pleasuring herself, and she wanted to savor it.
Fleur slid two fingers inside herself, pumping slowly while her thumb worked her clit. She was tight. She hadn't taken anything larger than her own fingers in years. She imagined Harry's cock replacing her fingers, thick and hard and perfect. Would he be gentle or rough? Patient or demanding? Would he make her beg for it or would he take control completely?
The thought of Harry taking control, of submitting to his desires, sent her arousal spiraling higher. She added a third finger, stretching herself, imagining it was him. Her hips rocked against her hand, seeking more friction, more pressure, more everything.
Close. So close. Just a little more.
Her thumb pressed hard against her clit and she came with a strangled cry of his name, pleasure crashing through her in waves. Her inner walls clenched rhythmically around her fingers, her back arching off the bed as the orgasm rolled through her. She kept moving through it, drawing out every pulse of pleasure until she was oversensitive and trembling.
Fleur collapsed back against the pillows, breathing hard. That had been intense, more intense than her solo sessions usually were. The vivid fantasies about Harry had elevated it beyond simple physical release.
Which was a problem.
She couldn't keep thinking about him this way. He was her friend, had been for years. And more importantly, he was currently involved with her sister in whatever capacity their arrangement entailed. Getting attracted to him now, developing desires that couldn't be acted upon, would only complicate things.
But as Fleur cleaned herself up and climbed under the sheets properly, she couldn't quite suppress the small voice in her head pointing out that Harry wasn't taken. Friends with benefits meant exactly that. Friends. With benefits. No commitment, no exclusivity, no claim on each other beyond mutual enjoyment.
If she wanted him, if she decided to pursue this attraction, she wouldn't be going after her sister's man. Because Harry wasn't Gabrielle's man. He was just a friend who happened to be excellent in bed, if the evidence was anything to judge by.
Fleur turned onto her side, staring out the window toward where Harry's cottage sat in the darkness. This was dangerous territory, she knew that. But she'd never been one to shy away from danger when it intrigued her.
The question was whether to act on this attraction or let it fade naturally over time.
She fell asleep without reaching a concrete decision, but her dreams were filled with green eyes and strong hands and the possibilities that could no longer remain just fantasy.
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