All the women in Harry's life are gone, they've been disposed of, one by one.
But nobody has noticed.
Tonks with the power of a time turner has taken their place
All the women in Harry's life are gone, they've been disposed of, one by one.
But nobody has noticed.
Tonks with the power of a time turner has taken their place
During Third Year, Hermione lends Harry her time-turner to save a student from a terrible accident in the Lake(she deduced he did so after seeing two Harrys), but Harry ends up breaking the device and falling in the Black Lake amidst the sand that was inside of it, he emerges nearly a millennia in the past, in a similar but very different Hogwarts, in a time when students began their magical education at his age. When asked his name he blurts out the first magical name that comes to mind, and soon Merlin of Surrey is sorted in Slytherin by a much less receptive to suggestions Hat, and Harry begins his journey to go back to his own time, while having to deal with crazy teachers, political intrigue and teenage drama.
After all his first friends are the nobles Morgana of Albion (who has eyes colored similar to his) and the blue eyed blonde Vivianne of Britanny, well at least the Potions teacher, Gaius, seems to like him.
The Royal Delacour family have decided to hold an international tournament, the winner would be called God of the universe, and be given 25 billion in the currency of their home country.
The rules are set, except for one, the tall, gorgeous Fleur had decreed, “I will bear the children of any male competitor who wins this tournament.” Her voice, calm and assertive. “I only wish to have the children of God.“
With the stakes so high, will the blind Harry Potter become God?
Let the games begin!
Star Wars AU Idea: Anakin gets sent to Mustafar before storming the temple and instead the 501st and Coruscant Guard enact Operation Knightfall without him. Obi Wan gets Anakin's location from Padme and goes to Mustafar to find him having murdered the Seperatist leaders. He convinces Anakin to come back to the light and they go to confront Palpatine, but Palpatine sets a trap and uses the 501st on them. He distracts and separates them by sending the Coruscant Guard after Padme and Anakin leaves Obi Wan to try and rescue her. Yoda goes after Palpatine as well and saves Obi Wan from Palpatine, but can't fight him and protect Obi Wan at the same time and has to flee. Anakin gets to Padme and saves her, but she is mortally wounded by the Coruscant Guard in the escape. They flee to Polis Massa where Padme gives birth and then dies from her injuries leaving Anakin, a man who had no father of his own, to be the father and sole parent of his two children. He breaks down under the stress and takes a step back from the Galactic stage, leaving the resistance against the new Empire to others while he does his best to raise Luke and Leia on his own, and to hide them from the horrors of war. He teaches his children about rhe force as best he can, but he mostly focuses on them remaining in control of themselves and hiding from the Empire rather than fighting against it. Obi Wan takes a more active role in the rebellion, and it isn't until he is killed that Anakin finally steps out of the shadows once again.
After the the attack on Godrick's Hollow in 1981 Albus Dumbledore decided that Great Britain is still too dangerous for the Boy Who Lived and so he sends him to his old friends, Nicolas and Perranelle Flamels. Years later Harry Flamel comes to Hogwarts as a part of Beuxbaton's delegation for Tri-Wizard Tournament.
Fleur is an aspiring online cosplay model, and Harry is her cameraman/prop-maker
It started normally, Fleur liked video games and big swords, so she asked Harry to make her one out of foam. From there it turned into a suit of skimpy foam armor, then taking pictures of her to post to her tiny, personal Instagram. Next thing they knew, her cosplay photo blew up! And Fleur became obsessed and begged Harry to make her more costumes and props, and also take pictures of her in 'tasteful' outfits. Harry, of course, said yes.
There you go, that's the prompt. Maybe add some funny moments when these two old friends have to get over shyness? Haven't given this one much thought.
Fleur Delacour formerly Fleur Weasley has recently divorced her husband finding that getting engaged and married in 2 years of meeting each other was not the right move. Fleur as a appraiser and warder for Gringotts has been assigned to assisting her long time friend Auror Harry Potter on a international mission to find and take back a former strong hold of Grindelwald's Third Reich from not only dark monsters like Greyback's Pack and Violent Vampire covens but also the evil experiments formed and created there by evil men.
Obviously Harry/Fleur
With each encounter with Voldemort, Harry noticed, his scar grew. And he was sure that it was not good news. With each encounter with Voldemort, his temper and his self-control worsened. And yet, he also knew, he would stand against the Dark Lord until all his strength left him. It takes several brushes with death before Albus Dumbledore is sure and confides in Harry. Voldemort used a foul ancient ritual and imposed a piece of his soul upon Harry. And this fragment was now struggling to come to the surface. Should that be allowed to happen, Harry would cease to be. However, Albus knew of no way to remove the soul fragment.
Fleur Delacour was proud of the traditions of her people. The Veela had a long and proud history, even if many of their traditions had been left behind now. She was quite sure that not since the times of her great-grandmother none of her relatives had kidnapped nor tortured a single man. And yet her experiences lead to her instincts screaming at her. It was time to revive a tradition from the old times. In the past, Veela would sometimes swear themselves to heroes on an important quest, to heal their wounds, to slay their enemies, and should the worst occur, to keep them company in their dying moments. Tales of Harry Potter had reached Beaxbatons, of course, but meeting him in person proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that he did not lack valour. And then the Dark Lord came back. She knew they fought and would fight in the future until the battle was decided.
And she knew what she needed to do. After consulting with her grandmother, Elena, she ventured to Britain, found Harry Potter, and swore the most solemn vow a Veela could swear. Her life, her loyalty, were his, for she knew his quest was an important one.
Hearing of what plagued the young hero shook Fleur to the core. She remembered old tales of her people, the depravity of Koschei the Deathless, the horror of Baba Yaga, yet this… this went beyond those, albeit it seemed familiar somehow. Not even wise Elena knew of a way to help them, however. But she knew of one who would.
Yet the quest to reach Gamayun, the prophet and divine messenger, knowledgeable about everything in creation, would be far from easy. None knew where to find her. But Elena still gave then hope, directing them to the ancient ancestress of all the Veela, to Stratim, and to her kin, the sorrowful Sirin and the joyful Alkohost. One particular day every year, those two leave the Underworld and visit a certain place in our world. They are Gamayun’s kin and surely would know where she resides.
The journey would be fraught with danger, the worst of which were the very beings they sought. For no mortal man who heard their song ever wanted to leave and followed them to the Underworld, eternally in their thrall. Perhaps no less threatening are Voldemort’s agents and other seeking Sirin and Alkohost. For it is said that the fruit tree on which Alkohost alights produces fruits with miraculous powers of healing.
"Two households, Potter and Delacour, both alike in dignity (In fair Hogwarts, where we lay our scene), From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life; Whose misadventured piteous overthrows Do with their death bury their parents' strife.”'
Write about Fleur and Harry reconnecting after a rough patch in their relationship.
Harry, after years of tutelage and training at the mountain dojo, was kneeling in front of his Sensei.
“Your training is now finished, some would say. However… Harry?” His Sensei raised his wizened eyebrow, clearly expecting an answer.
“One’s training never ends, Sensei.” Harry dutifully spoke up.
A smile transformed his Sensei’s scarred face into a friendly one.
“Indeed. Keep the following lessons always in mind. Your stance should be always natural. This way it will never change, whether you stand at peace or with blades drawn. If you fight as you would stand normally, your mind does not need to shift to be ready. Strategy is nothing more than deception, and the truth will be revealed at the end in the killing. Show something different than your true intentions, and practice it as often as possible. That way, when it is time to draw the blade the mind will do it automatically. That way you also learn tosee through other's facades. It teaches you to see what you are not meant to see. A man’s eyes can lie, so watch his shoulders, his belly and his breathing. A man can fool you with any one of these, but keeping a broad mind prevents you being fooled by all of them. When it comes time to strike, you must strike from the spirit. Thought is slow, but spirit has no time for hesitation. The spirit cannot be distracted. The spirit exists where there is nothing or where actions are unclouded by emotion or thought, the idea of striking from the spirit means to do so without emotion or perception. When an opponent moves with great urgency and strength merely let him go by. A side step is much quicker than a charge, and it leaves you in a position where negotiation means nothing.
When the spirit is clear and in tune with the elements, your true perception will be with mushin, and your spirit will be one with the universe. Then you will learn your opponent's every desire. "Mushin" means "no-thought" or "no-mind", and when one is no-mind one's spirit will be free to act. At the point of becoming mushin, a samurai is in touch with all the elements and the cosmic order. He knows his enemy better than he knows himself, for his enemy is limited by his own perceptions. Be like the river, ever flowing with no beginning or end. One movement leads to another, and the river can flow in all directions at once. This teaches that there is more to a duel than just a single strike. Where many schools teach a secret stepping technique, we do not. There are no secret techniques, all movements are natural. There is a big difference between timing and rhythm. Many schools teach rhythm, and their techniques are like music in beats and tempo. We teach timing, striking between the moments when the opponent is counting their beats. If you watch your opponent carefully, he will reveal his timing to you. Strike when his timing will prevent him from acting, and strike when your opponent believes you cannot. Show him weakness and he will charge, and that is when you have him. Learn to count, and understand his rhythm. If he breathes on one, prepares on two and strikes on three, you must strike between one and two. When you and your opponent fight, there are only three alternatives. If he strikes first, kill him. If you strike first, kill him. If you both strike at the same time, kill him. And finally, do not believe you can win, but know it. Go, and I know you shall bring honour to the Clan.”
It starts the same as above, with Fleur and Harry as cursebreakers and Harry dying to a particularly nasty dying curse of a defeated necromancer. Fleur panics, the bond between them shatters, her mind… cracks. She performs a necromantic ritual, bringing Harry’s soul to his body. It seems everything went fine and nobody notices. They go on with their lives, yet some vital part of their relationship is lacking. On the next expedition, Harry dies again due to a freak accident and is brought back by Fleur. This occurs a few times.
After some time, Harry starts noticing something is amiss, his memories, his personality, every time he comes back, he comes diminished. Fleur refuses to see. Eventually Harry tries to convince Fleur to let him rest, but Fleur is adamant. Harry keeps dying and being brought back, existence with Fleur becomes a torment. They are pursued be strange beings, agents of Death, meaning to restore the natural order of things. Eventually, Harry cannot bear to see Fleur inflict this torment on herself and seeks to end his unlife. After succeeding he begs the agents of Death to bring him to Death itself. Harry strikes a deal, entering into service in exchange for protection from being raised again. He accepts the mission to hunt down Fleur. Fleur meanwhile was growing increasingly desperate as her ritual stopped working. Upon hearing the beloved voice whispering her name, she looked up and beheld her Harry returned to the world. She jumped into his arms, forcing him into a kiss. Next thing she felt the cold bite of steel, as a razor sharp edge entered her heart. In Death’s court, shattered by this final betrayal, Fleur’s soul is a pathetic wretch, about to be sentenced to an eternity of suffering. Yet Harry intercedes, begging Death to give Fleur another chance. A bargain is made. For every instance of Fleur violating the laws of existence, a century of faithful service or one sinner in the same vein brought to justice.
Harry as a Noir style private investigator cleaning up the aftermath of too many hurriedly tidied threads after a war that was all too messy, in a world where the government barely functions, uncovering secrets and scraps of ancient power that Voldemort unearthed in his quest for immortality and which were then scattered across the tattered remnants of his forces who use them in reckless ways.
And Fleur, as either the Femme Fatale to his hardboiled Private Eye, OR, The one warm spot in his day after everyone else has failed understand why he keeps on pursuing the chase long after the war ended despite the toll it wreaks on himself and those around him, the only one that supports him unconditionally because of all the people he knows she was the only one who had no expectations for him from the start.
Designation: Hana, Fleur, Flor, Zahra Age: 17 Weight: 120lbs Height: 5'9" Eye color: blue Skillset: Seduction, Assassination, Hand to Hand, Swordsmanship, Guns, Magic Kill Rate: 99% Kill Count: 44
73 was a killer. She was nothing, she was nobody. Nothing but a masterful form for The Company to fill with requirements to complete a job.
Wiping the blood from the kitchen knife she borrowed to kill Mark Wethers, she systematically cleared the room of any proof of her existence. 10 minutes later she exits the Hopper's Club draped across a man who can't keep his eyes off her cleavage. 73 seems to any who would care to look a woman who had a bit too much to drink and about to be taken advantage of. 2 blocks later the man is holding his crotch in agony swearing to never pick up sexy blondes at bars again.
Reporting in to AE3 was never enjoyable for 73. He was a lecherous old man who's only reason for not 'tasting' her as he put it was because of how much of an asset to The Company she was. AE3 liked to remind her that if she failed her next mission, he'd have her on her back and enjoying it.
If she could be disgusted, 73 would. But that was beaten out of her long ago. Now, all she did was nod and request her next assignment.
"Harry Potter," AE3 replied with a grimace.
"You'll be taking part in the Triwizard Tournament as Fleur Delacour. His death must look like an accident."
73's mouth made a downturn; unnatural for her emotionless face. She hates having to hide kills. It's much easier to kill and go.
'Fleur Delacour' approached her target ignoring the stares she received.
"Are you wanting ze bouillabaise?"
TL;DR classic assassin meets kind hearted person and discovers they want more and are more than the profession they've been forced to do.
Kind of a goal is for Seawolf's linked image to be the pivotal moment. Where Fleur identifies herself as Fleur Delacour and not 73 and chooses to defy The Company and protect Harry instead of kill him.
Cute moments include:
Hagrid saw a strange light, followed by the sound of a crash in the Forbidden Forest, he rushes out to check and finds some metal remains and smouldering ground. Near the centre of it all, is a strange almost slimy looking egg, even larger than a dragons egg.
The large man approached it, and nearly startled when the top opened. His curiosity and lack of common sense won out, and he peeked inside the egg. He noticed a pale white, arachnid looking creature inside.
"Ain't ye a cutie, but what are yer?"
Right then, the creature shot out of the egg, the last thing Hagrid saw were several legs stretched out, and hole opening at the bottom of the creature opening up.
Hours Later
Hagrid awoke with a groan, he turned over to find the creature laying dead on the ground, it's legs curled up in that way spiders do.
"What the bloody hell was that about?"
Feeling fine, Hagrid shrugged off the incident, he picked up the dead creature, best to take it with to figure out what it was.
Later that evening
Hagrid sat at the staff table, trying to do his best to impress the large Beauxbaton headmistress who'd arrived the night prior.
He took a bite of his roast beef, and coughed.
"Are you alright, monsieur 'Agrid?" asked Madame Maxime.
"Went down the wrong side is all," answered Hagrid.
He opened his mouth to speak, but immediately fell into a coughing fit. He grabbed his chest at the sudden intense pain, and tried to stand, knocking his chair down in the process. The sound of wood slamming against the ground, drew the Great Hall's attention to the staff table, and onto the coughing half-giant.
"Monseur 'Agrid!" Panicked Madame Maxime.
The Hogwart's resident healer forced her way to Hagrid's side, trying to offer what assistance she could, but Hagrid's pain only worsened. The man was screaming now.
"Merlin's Beard! There's sumthin' inside of him!" Exclaimed Barty Crouch Jr, nearly breaking his cover, as he stared at Hagrid with his enchanted eye.
Right then, Hagrid's back arched backwards, as he let loose a horrific scream of pain.
A creature burst from his chest in a spray of blood, and alien screeching sounds. The creature was pale, the colour of bone and looked like a strange eye-less snake.
Everyone was too shocked and horrified at what had occurred, giving the alien the opportunity to hastily make its escape. It was fast, very fast, and the few spells cast at it in an attempt to stop the creature, all missed.
Harry stood beside his friends, his face a mixture of shock, and horror, and sorrow as he stared at the now deceased form of his large friend.
Prefects and staff tried to conceal the dead body from the students, but it was too late. They'd all seen it.
What they hadn't seen.
Was the snake-like alien making its way to the dungeons, where the Slytherin's slept.
They also didn't see the the second egg. Which had fallen from the spacecraft, and now lay rested against the side of a fancy carriage. A beautiful blonde who sat at her desk, having skipped dinner, had no idea that a small arachnid alien was slowly crawling up the carriage side to her open window.
AU prompt, either outright medieval, or the wizarding world retains more from the old times. There are much stronger differences in culture between Houses of Hogwarts, with Gryffindor putting much more emphasis on chivalry. Enter Harry Potter who takes ¨to chivalric virtues like a fish to water.
Meet Fleur Delacour, a champion of the French academy, beautiful, smart, graceful, cunning and with a hidden sensual side. Harry becomes enchanted by this vision of loveliness (Blanchefleur) and starts courting this lady. Fleur is honestly quite flattered by the young, handsome, honourable, humble and valiant knight. She enjoys seeing him fighting in duels and tournaments, carrying her favour. He even learned the lute and the lyre, his verses may be somewhat clumsy, yet they are heartfelt. Yet Fleur grows increasingly frustrated by this young sir’s chastity. So she starts her own game of temptation and seduction. Young Sir Harry insists on a proper chivalric romance and is somewhat confused by his Lady’s gestures.
sUntil, finally, dear Fleur just snaps, drags the young knight to her own tent and gives him a right proper, earth-shaking, sky-shattering, sarding.
Modern, non-magic au. Artist Harry.
26y/o Fleur Delacour works in London at an authentic French café in order to get through Uni. Her days are fairly repetitive and uneventful. That is, until a bespectacled young man begins to come in more and more often. 27. He only occasionally talks to her to give his order, before sitting along the far wall facing the counter where she works. Fleur thinks nothing of it at first, dozens of people come in for hours on end to read, relax, work or talk with friends.
But soon, the days turn into weeks, and the weeks into almost two months of the strangely shy and reserved man coming in to sit and draw in his sketchbook.
The problem? Fleur always feels like he's watching her. At first she didn't mind, men stared at her all the time. But now? It's getting kind of uncomfortable. So she decides to throw caution to the wind and ask what his problem is. And on her next break she does just that. She leaves the counter and heads straight for him. He seems to realize this a second too late, as he hurries to cover his sketchbook with his laptop.
Fleur, rather intrigued now, sets her anger aside and demands to know what he is drawing. He stutters out an unintelligible answer. Deciding to take matters into her own hands, Fleur snatches the sketchbook from him and opens it to find, to her horror and amazement; herself.
Not knowing what to say, she remains silent as the man begins to explain himself. He tells her that he is an artist, and he has... been inspired by her natural beauty and has been using her as his muse for the last two months.
Still silent, Fleur begins to flip through the sketchbook, finding, to her growing amazement, dozens upon dozens of sketches of her as she stood and worked in the café.
Finally reaching the end of the sketchbook, Fleur looks up to the man for the first time in several minutes. There's a rather embarrassed shade of red coloring his cheeks and ears, while, despite herself, she feels herself blushing.
The man nervously runs a hand through his hair; "S-sorry, miss, I-I shouldn't have drawn you without y-your permission. I-I'll throw them away right now. Sorry-"
"Don't 'zrow 'zem away."
"Wh-what?" He stutters out, asking, "Why not?"
"Because 'zey are magnifique."
The man pauses, stunned, "W-what? Y-you think they're good?"
"Non," she shakes her head, looking over the sketches again. "I 'zink 'zey are beautiful."
"...And you're not mad that I drew you without your permission?"
"A little," she admits. "But 'zey are so beautiful, I cannot be 'zat mad."
"I, uh... thanks?"
Fleur chuckles, before holding the sketchbook out to him. He tries to grab it but she pulls it away. With a playful smile on her face, she says, "If I give 'zis back, will you promise to give me 'ze next one you draw of me?"
The man is bewildered. "W-wait, you w-want me to draw you again?"
Her smile grew even more, she hands him back the sketchbook. "But only if I get 'ze next drawing."
The man's eyes shined, "O-of course! Y-you won't regret this, I swear!"
She holds up one finger, "I 'ave one condition."
"Name it!" He exclaims.
"I keep all my clo'zes on."
The man's ears turn bright red and he let's out a string of sounds unrecognizable as human speech. Fleur gives a coy smile, "But who knows,... maybe I can be persuaded o'zerwise if you buy me a few drinks...?"
"I-I-I-I uh, yeah."
"Yeah?"
"To everything you just said."
"Magnifique."
[one-shot would end there for me. But feel free to expand upon it if you want. Make this a multi-chapter story or whatever. Make Fleur into a nude model for all you want. but I'll probably keep it rated T myself]
Situation: A tense standoff, Harry Potter on one side, protected by a group of Veela warriors and Lucius Malfoy and his mercenaries and compatriots on the other.
"We only want Potter, Veela. Do not force us to fight you."
Fleur, the Veela commander, tilts her head. "Why not? Only one human wizard has ever survived battle with a Veela Strike Commando. He is behind me. You are in front of me. If you value your lives, be somewhere else."
Inspired by Sekiro: during a duel with new bad guys Auror Harry loses his lower left arm and wakes up in a temple with an skeletal prosthetic for an left arm. The monk who saved calls it a Shinobi's prosthetic and he must stop the bad guys for continueing their evil plan but he must take heed. The more he kills the more of a toll it takes on his soul and if he kills too many he runs into the threat of being turned into a shura. A mindless wardemon that lives only for violence. Fleur would be his liasion for this entire thing, being there with him in the duel that cost him an arm and later on becomes the one person, the reason for him to not lose himself with his new found power and become shura.