erebormarkus
patreon
The Secret Society Chapter 20: How to Simp
🕑 Added 2023-04-05 05:35:16 +0000 UTCA/N: Had a Super Saiyan version of writer's block after that break in writing. I had to get something out, and this was the result. Let me know what you think of this chapter.
Harry was wondering how he had overlooked something so important. He tried to seem like he belonged in the crowd of far-too-wealthy witches and wizards, but there was a rather significant issue.
His age.
Harry was by far the youngest person here and already had to lie and say he was seventeen to multiple people who struck up a conversation with him. That still got Harry some disbelieving looks, but he was thankful that was the extent of it.
Unless he voluntarily gave his name, nobody would know who he was with the anonymity Mansion Sorcellerie afforded him. Another plus was the effect of everyone hearing the language they were most fluent in. Even if someone from Magical Britain attended, they would never know Harry was British himself since everyone would have a British accent in their view.
To be safe, he avoided anyone who looked at him too closely. It didn’t hurt to be too careful with the Dark Lord, or at least his followers, apparently after his life. If anyone from Britain would attend this type of auction, it would be one that was part of their group.
Harry turned away from another person who was looking at him for more than a second and felt regret for the umpteenth time for arriving early. There was no reason to do so, but dreaming about Fleur’s lips made him do stupid things. The only issue was that Fleur wasn’t here.
He knew that he needed to get that witch out of his head. If this was the result of his inexperience, Harry would get as much as he could when he returned to Hogwarts. He almost understood why Goldstein made those baffling choices, and there could be no bigger warning sign for him.
Harry sympathizing with Anthony Goldstein was something he considered a low point in his life.
Just as Harry talked himself into walking out of the ballroom until the auction started, the witch whose lips occupied his dreams last night spoke next to him.
“What has your face all scrunched up, my love?”
Harry thought it was unfortunate not to hear the heavily accented English, but that disappointment was chased away from his mind when he saw the shimmering blue dress Fleur was wearing. How was it fair that someone looked this good? And how was it fair that this was the witch that showed interest in him? Why couldn’t it be someone like Bulstrode so he didn’t have to be bothered?
“If it’s about yesterday, I took care of it. Nobody will find out what you did to him.”
Ah, right. That’s why. If Bulstrode was in Fleur’s place and learned what he did to Alex, she wouldn’t have the sheer gall to smile with no hint of fear. Fleur would, and her smile was proud, as if he did something to be praised.
Harry immediately cast a muffliato charm to isolate them from the crowd.
“What do you mean take care of it?” Harry asked tensely.
Fleur smiled at how Harry tried his hardest not to look down her neckline. That wouldn’t do since she specifically picked this dress due to the perfect amount of tease it showed. She wanted Harry to have an uncomfortable sleep tonight. There was only so much time she had to work with before he left France, and with her limited amount, it was a must to make an impression.
“The Memory Charm you cast was a nice attempt, but it was too obvious and far too easily broken.”
“Broken?” Harry asked with confusion, “You can break a Memory Charm?”
“Well, in a way,” Fleur said with distaste, “It is rather boorish. Too much screaming and pleading for my tastes, but it can be done if necessary.”
Harry was already aware that whatever Fleur showed herself as in Hogwarts was not at all the truth. Still, seeing her talking about torture like a lousy cup of tea was chilling.
“Like I said, Harry. It won’t be a worry,” Fleur smiled when Harry almost closed his eyes when she cupped his face, “I asked for my father’s help and used a wizard skilled with those types of spells to clean it up. Now, don’t I deserve a thank you?”
“… Thanks,” Harry forced himself to step back to avoid looking like a lovestruck fool.
“No thanks necessary, my love,” Fleur replied shamelessly, as if she hadn’t just asked for it.
“I’m not sure how seriously I should take you,” Harry shook his head, “You’re surprisingly terrifying, but then you go use that silly affection to tease me.”
“Tease you?”
Harry shivered when it felt like the air chilled around him. He could feel the coldness emanating from Fleur and wondered how she kept up the same smile on her pink lips.
“I never tease about love, my Harry,” Fleur said as she moved closer, “I gave you a chance to disappoint me yesterday, but you clearly want me as bad as I do you with how fast you put down Alex.”
Harry stared at Fleur with wide eyes, wondering where the almost manic possessiveness came about. Was this a Veela thing that nobody knew about?
“It was fate for us to meet yesterday,” Fleur declared, “I was going to visit you in England after I moved, but something pulled us together earlier. We are getting to know each other, my love, but make no mistake. We are in a relationship.”
Harry quickly adapted and tried to look receptive to what he heard while reminding her that he wouldn’t be in France for long. “I believe you, Fleur. I’ll be sure to figure out why I haven’t been getting your letters when I return to England.”
“I know your true feelings, Harry,” Fleur draped her arms over his shoulders and whispered into his ear, “You think you don’t like what you’re hearing, but know that we are perfect for each other. And letters won’t do. I’ll convince my father to let me come to England to be with you.”
Harry shivered at the warm breath running over his ear and stood like a statue, trying to ignore the soft curves pressing into him.
Fleur was far more dangerous than he thought. He had compared her to Thompson, but that insulted the part-Veela. She was a special type of crazy that Harry hadn’t known could exist. He wasn’t sure why she thought that going from a charming witch that took his breath away to a crazed and possessive maniac would work.
“I invite all the bidders to take their seats. The auction will begin in ten minutes.”
Fleur pulled away from Harry to look at the crowd filing inside, making him realize why she suddenly revealed what she truly was like.
She thought Harry would look past it due to her otherworldly looks.
Well, if she assumed that he would be like any other drooling idiot that would worship her every action, she was in for a surprise.
“Good, nobody is looking at us.”
Harry’s resolve immediately died in its infancy when he felt Fleur’s soft lips on his. His dreams last night had nothing on the real thing. The problem was that it was over before it really began.
When he opened his eyes, which had once again closed without his permission, Harry saw Fleur smirking at him with a knowing look in her eyes.
“The faster you accept this, my love, the more time we’ll have for some fun,” Fleur said before kissing the corner of his lips. She pulled back and smiled as she said, “Come, I’ve moved your seat to be in my booth.”
Harry let himself be pulled along as he stared at their clasped hands. Ever since he arrived in France, it was like he had lost all control over what was happening. The most alarming part was that Harry knew he should care but couldn’t even pretend to try.
He kept comforting himself that this resulted from his weakness with the mind arts, but somewhere deep inside, he knew that wasn’t it at all. While Harry prided himself in knowing more about people than they knew themselves, it also made him far too aware of his own shortcomings.
There was a reason he was so accommodating to Daphne Greengrass, even though he knew she was using him from the start. There was a reason he was soft on Longbottom and Hermione, even though their interactions were sparse. It was even the reason that Lovegood quickly got into his good graces.
Harry was starving for companionship, and he always had been since he could remember… anything really. Getting sorted in Slytherin made him far more guarded, that was true, but it didn’t change the core desire he always had.
This was the first time someone had shown such intense desire toward him, even though it was unquestionably unhealthy. While there was a chance that Fleur might have a greater agenda with her interest in him, the sudden display of possessiveness helped decrease that chance.
Harry should be planning how to get away from this witch safely. Not marveling at how well they fit together with her ready acceptance of what he does. It also helped that she was beyond beautiful. Harry wasn’t sure if that point had been mentioned yet.
“Here we are,” Fleur interrupted his thoughts, “The private booth is far more romantic than sitting among the rabble, isn’t it?”
Harry hadn’t realized that he was led away from the crowd. Another thing that should alarm him, but once again, all he could think about was Fleur’s pink lips. The privacy might help with feeling those lips against his far sooner than expected.
“I’m not sure if romance is what the auction house intended.”
“No,” Fleur agreed, “But why should we care what others intend for us?”
“… True,” Harry muttered as he returned the squeeze she gave their still-clasped hands.
“I feel that you are coming to accept this faster than I expected,” Fleur commented as she pushed Harry into the seat and unceremoniously sat on his lap, “What changed, my love? I was thinking of enjoying the chase.”
Harry had tried not to look at the plunging neckline of Fleur’s dress, but that had become impossible when it was directly in front of him. He caught a glimpse of her full cleavage before quickly averting his eyes to meet Fleur’s icy blues.
Harry cleared his throat and said, “I guess you could say I’m interested in why you seem so sure this is going to work.”
Fleur smirked at him and directed his arms to wrap around her waist. “I’m a Veela, Harry. It means much more than being a pretty face. I know who would fit me best. And that’s you.”
Harry wasn’t sure what to say to that, and Fleur was content to relax in his arms and wait for the auction to start. He was aware that she was practically admitting that she knew more about him than had already been revealed. The thing was, Harry wasn’t sure what that could possibly be.
Fleur had a general idea of what he had done in Hogwarts, including some of the harsher things he had done in Slytherin since she so quickly thought Alex had died under his hands. Other than that, Harry didn’t think he had done anything noteworthy.
It then hit him that she had constantly been pushing her actions based on his emotions. It was always far enough to shock him but not enough to make him reject her.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the annual auction at Maison Sorcellerie! We have an exceptional selection of magical artifacts on offer tonight, and I am honored to preside over this evening’s bidding.”
Harry ignored the start of the auction. With a frigid tone, he asked, “How are you able to feel my emotions?”
“That’s a good guess,” Fleur chuckled as she wriggled her hips to get comfortable, her smile getting wider when Harry squirmed under her, “But no, my love. That’s not it.”
Harry narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth, but the auctioneer interrupted him by introducing the first item for sale.
“We will be opening the auction with The Orb of Levitation! It is said to have been created by a powerful wizard in the depths of the Sahara Desert over a thousand years ago. While the name implies a minor effect, far too many unsuspecting innocents have died due to how far this orb levitates the user. In fact, the original creator is rumored to have died when he was levitated miles above the desert and couldn’t stop himself from hitting the ground!”
“Is that not the most ridiculous thing to make?” Fleur asked Harry with a giggle, “Imagine being called powerful but dying like that.”
Harry grunted in agreement, wanting to stay angry at Fleur but failing miserably.
“Do I have an opening bid of one thousand galleons?”
Harry saw someone below raise their hand with the admission card grasped tightly.
“Excellent! One thousand! Any takers for two thousand?”
Harry noticed another hand with an admission card rise up.
“Two thousand!”
“I wish they had an option for us to close the booth to make it truly private till the interesting items go on stage.”
Fleur’s grumbling took Harry’s attention away from the auction. Nothing like a casual insult at an item that was climbing in price by thousands of galleons to remind him of how filthy rich the girl on his lap was.
“What?” Fleur asked when Harry stared at her, “I say that for your benefit too, my love. If you didn’t have such an aversion to kissing with others watching, I would be doing that right now. Is it wrong then that I wish we could block everyone out?”
Comments like those made Harry wonder how in the world Fleur could say that with such certainty. It also made his heart soften considerably since she had just revealed that she was careful not to make him uncomfortable whenever she kissed him.
… Harry would give her a pass for now about how she eerily knew what he was feeling.
Comments
BubblyGhost
Fleur seems cool, got the whole 'crazy french chic' goin' on lmao. Plus they seem like the most competent yet not antagonistic thus far which is nice.
Alatoic
Love the possessive almost crazy Veela, did she feel that she found a mate were she can be the real her? still want to see her compete for Harry's affections with other witch just for the fun of know what will she do. Also will we know what is the attraction that Fleur ir feeling for Harry? why pick him since the tournament? and so aggressively?
FallenSage
Great job loved it and I like this version of Fleur
Robert
I definitely like this twist. Even Harry’s relationships are complicated. Him trying to figure out his own feelings on top of Fleur’s motivations is quite fun.
Markus Ellis
Nope this is the real Fleur in the fic
Alex Wierzbicki
I will be honest I like the version of this Fleur. If it's not a con.
