Fleur has discovered Harry's weakness. He may be resistant to her Veela charms, but she can lure him in with a good pot of cassoulet.

Operation "Seduce 'Arry" is ready to begin!

Inspired by: The Lone Wolf and Cub film series and manga.

Lord James Potter escapes the destruction of Potter Manor after witnessing the murder of his beloved wife, the Lady Lily, by Voldemort and his dark followers. Framed for the crime, James Potter escapes into the countryside with his 3-year old son, Harry James. The former Lord vows revenge against those who destroyed his family. James Potter; aided by a cart charmed and loaded with a variety of Muggle and Magical weaponry, decimates those who stand in his way of righteous vengeance.

An ultimately test of the self versus the selfless:

Suppose we have a character, I'll name them Sam, suppose Sam was a created person. An AI, an Android, a clone, an engineered test-tube creation, whatever they are they have to be artificial. Now suppose that they were created to fulfill a specifically violent role on behalf of their creator. An enforcer, a hunter, an interrogator, etc. Furthermore, because their creator is not a heartless bastard, they made sure that their creation, (Sam), would find fulfillment, contentment, satisfaction, and joy in that role. So Sam is a sadist of the highest order that genuinely enjoys violence and causing pain, but not in a malicious way. They enjoy it in the same way that a child enjoys jumping into a heaping pile of leaves, or you or I might enjoy the sight of a beautiful sunset. Their enjoyment of their role is not in any way perverse. Rather, it is the most natural thing in the world for them. The satisfaction Sam feels in gruesome murder is comparable to the satisfaction you or I feel when drinking a cold glass of water after a long, hot day.

Now suppose that Sam is fundamentally innocent. They do not understand the consequences of their violence, or even the concept of evil. They do what they do because it's what they were told to do by their creator, because it's their purpose, and because they find genuine fulfillment in embodying that role. Sam is a like a child, or more like a particularly violent golden retriever that constantly tries to show you its love and affection by "retrieving" the neighbor's pet cats.

Now suppose that they exposed to enlightenment. Something expands their consciousness, catalyzes change in their being, or else let's them see the world for more of what it truly is. They come to understand the meaning of evil, and that evil is what they are. [2:08 PM] . Sam rebels, they leave their creator behind and run away, either on their own or with the help of the creator's enemies, and they try to change their life around and do what's good.

There are several obvious conflicts to resolve, their relationship with the creator, their lack of empathy, the absence of life skills not relating to horrific torture and murder, but there is one thing that rises above the rest. There is an existential battle here between nature and choice. Sam's nature has not changed, they still find satisfaction and fulfillment in acts of profound evil, they just choose to deny it. Sam will spend the rest of their life knowing their purpose, their calling, their "dream job" to spend the rest of their life doing, and they will spend every second of that life running as far away from as they can.

HP×Underworld xover, Harry is a member of The Order, a secret society of Magical humans that exists to protect muggle society from the war between vampire and lycanthropes. Unsure of his convictions, and adverse to violence in general, his world is changed when he stumbles upon a resurrection ritual to bring back one of the ancient original vampires. Used as a blood sacrifice, because simple human blood won't suffice, he finds him self enthralled to the newly reborn Madam Delacour.

The vampires that brought her back expected a powerful weapon against the werewolves, a vampire matriarch they could use to bring down the hybrids, what they got was something new entirely. Something that started with her first servant Harry, which they could not join for they lacked the magic blood of the the muggle Order. The war wasn't coming to an end, it was changing fronts, and their only hope was to bring down the Delacours first and most favored general before they could create more.

Harry doesn't react like other boys do to the allure. Because of his mother's protection when he comes in contact with Veela allure Harry feels love and comfort and warmth, like being held in his mother's arms.

During the TWT Harry feels that warm feeling again and wanting to feel happy instinctively grabs it and wraps it around himself. Fleur feels her allure being actively tugged and pulled on when she's in the main hall of Hogwarts. Curious and a little afraid she begins to try to find what's happening and writes to her mother about the sensation.

Within the next weeks Appoline does what research she can and eventually decides to accompany her family to Hogwarts during the second task to help Fleur look into the event.

Cue Harry being himself and saving an adorable little girl. During the fallout of the second task Harry finally relieved of dealing with people allows himself to relax and feels the happy warm feeling and wraps it around himself, Fleur and Appoline feel it and are able to figure out that it's Harry.

After the second Task, Harry goes to the kitchens to thank Dobby for the Gillyweed. There, he finds Fleur trying to instruct the House Elves how to make Crêpes, but since she's a disaster in the kitchen, it's a case of blind leading the blind. Harry watches the mess for a few minutes, Fleur covered in flour and badly mixed batter, the elves shuffling around embarrassed since the results of their experiments isn't what it's supposed to be.

Harry steps in, familiar with the recipe since it was a favourite of the Dursleys. Fleur is grateful and, with playful arrogance, offers Harry a reward for saving her sister, getting to eat the Crêpes together with her. Harry deadpans that he made the pancakes, so why should it be a reward. Fleur points out that quite a few students would kill for the opportunity and they banter back and forth a bit.

They talk about the second task and Harry reveals that Dobby saved his ass with the Gillyweed. From there on, time flies by as they talk about everything under the sun and get to know each other.

Here's an idea for a Flowerpot/HarryxFleur story if anyone wants to write: Fleur is an accomplished young witch at Beauxbatons, in spite of her detractors saying she uses her looks and feminine wiles to get ahead of everyone. But the real reason is that once Fleur starts something, whether it be a book, subject or whathaveyou, she can't stop until she gets to the end. Call it persistence, stubborness, perserverance or all three, it is the reason Fleur is such a highly competent witch. When the Triwizard tournament is to be held at Hogwarts, Fleur is among those selected to join the delegation with the chance of being a champion for her school. Upon arriving at Hogwarts, Fleur draws nearly all the attention from the male students (and some female) of Hogwarts and Durmstrang. Barring one: Harry Potter himself who barely gives Fleur a once over. Surprised and a little indignant at the Boy Who Lived's apparent dismissal of her, Fleur starts to do her research on everything there is to know about Harry Potter and no matter how it frustrates her, Fleur can't stop until she gets to the bottom of the enigma that is Harry Potter and she soon realises that she's starting to fall in love with Harry

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.

As a way to hide her Veela nature, Fleur decided to attend Beauxbatons Academy as Sebatian Delacour. Her allure was still a small problem causing many a male to question their sexuality when she walked past. However, she was able to keep up the charade rather convincingly with the help of a few spells, that is until the Triwizard Tournament.

The champions were allotted an area to change in the tent before the first task. Fleur waited as long as she could, allowing Krum and Diggory to go out and face their dragons. Her turn was next and she still needed to change. While trying to keep track of the youngest champion, Harry, by striking up a light conversation, she fell into the lockers causing a ruckus. Poor, innocent, naive Harry poked his head around to see if everything was alright and saw a sight he did not expect.

Harry Potter Berserk crossover:

basically Berserk AU Gaiseric attempts to rid himself of the brand of sacrifice and have a fighting chance against the forces of the god hand and kills himself resulting in his soul spliting and going through reincarnation that would purify it and allow him to be reborn in another world. That however was spitballing and finger crossed hoping by Gaiseric and his allies, which in a miracle did work... with the unfortunate consequence of the god hand now being able to see other worlds and realities. With time that wound continued to grow and thus allowed the forces of evil to exercise more and more freedom to act and influence across dimensions. However they're for the time still limited in indirect miniscule influence. Cut back to the year 1994 and Harry is haunted by strange nightmares this not originating from Voldemort, as he is forced into a tournament against his will meets a fascinting and more importantly uncannily familiar looking blonde woman from Beauxbatons (I wrote that wrong I know I'll correct that later) and Fudge discovers a strange red misshapen talisman in drawer and whereever he puts it, it always finds it's way back to him.

Harry knows what he is.Freak. Liar. Cheat. The Dursleys never gave up beating it into him. Blood pouring down broken skin green eyes screams laugh. Even after he was awoken to his birthright, his world, no one ever let him forget it. Suspicious eyes pointing corridors jeers red hit pain. All his life he’s wanted to scream, rage, fight back. But he can’t. All he can do is bear it. Green suns in black void fire screams brimstone Monster. He needs to keep control. Because no matter what they do to him, its nothing compared to what the monster that inhabits his flesh will do to them.Demon roars blood fire ruin hungry feast LET ME OUT! An Obscurus!Harry fic. In fourth year, Harry has a much more pronounced reaction to Fleur coming over to ask for the bouillabaisse, namely backing away, clutching his head, screaming at her to get away.

Why? Her allure makes his control slip. And he can't let his control slip. Ever. Fleur on the other hand, is puzzled after his initial reaction. Then she realises he’s hiding something, something terrifying. “Her eyes meet his, and she sees the whites turn into black voids for a mere second, before the darkness withdraws, leaving them white once more. Then she realises. He’s hiding something. Something Dark. Something…terrifying. She licks her lips, an incessant heat forming in her core. She had found him. A darkness to match hers, to stand intertwined and yet apart. She would have him. The monster in her would accept nothing less.”

Its... not a proper prompt yet, but its something. I just dont know quite what.

"Will it work?" "Of course. I made it." "I dunno...all that Spellotape..." Harry watched as what looks like a pair of handlebars and a seat magically attach themselves to the broom, giving the broom the appearance of a Harley Davidson...while Fleur had a maniacal gleem in her eyes...

The way she's sees the world is awe inspiring. Every moment, every task, is a challenge she willingly faces head on.

Or, Harry monologues about how amazed he is at the way Fleur challenges life

Bonus points if Harry and Fleur are not dating.

two seperate scenes, Rocky Horror style, Tries to seduce Harry as Fleur and Fleur as Harry

The trauma of witnessing his parents murder left a deep mark on Harry Potter. One that went unnoticed for 11 years. How would muggles have been able to find out Harry Potter, the Chosen One, is allergic to magical people? Needless to say, all of Dumbledore's plans had to go out the window when being in the vicinity of Hagrid nearly killed Harry.

10 years passed and Harry Potter found wealth and success as a Banker providing him the capital to feed his unrelenting curiousity towards the world he could never get near. He then meets and falls in love with a girl, Fleur Delacour, who is pretending to be a simulacrulum for her ex-boyfriend, a genius curse master Bill Weasley.

aka I'm Not a Robot as flowerpot and magical world still exists

Harry Potter and Shadow of Mordor/War crossover

Harry, who had been forced by his 'loving family' to clean out the attic of number 4 Privet Drive in the dead of summer, decided to take a break and open a small wooden chest that looked like it didn't belong to his relatives. Inside was one thing, and one thing only. A beautiful platinum ring.

He felt like he could hear the whisper of voices, but looking around her found himself still alone in the sweat-inducing attic. Shaking his head, passing it off as his imagination, he picks up the ring in his right hand. Oddly enough, the ring is almost ice cold to the touch, and starts to glow an ethereal blue. Something within him tells him to put it on his finger, like he'd never wanted to do something more desperately in his life.

After sliding the ring onto the index finger of his left hand, the much-too-large ring sizes down to fit his child sized finger. He feels a wonderful rush of power, which also happens to cool him off, as he was still sweating profusely.

"So.. someone finally found my ring. " A deep male voice resonates within his mind.

"I must be going mad from the heat if I keep hearing voices." Harry murmurs to himself.

"You aren't going mad." The voice states irritably. "The ring you're wearing holds my life force, and lets me communicate with you, as well as a large host of other abilities that we will get into at a later time. My name is Celebrimbor. So tell me, boy... What year is it?"

Harry / Fleur pairing

Apologies for any bad grammar, it is completely up to you how he finds the ring or how the conversation goes from there. I've been playing Shadow of War again and had this pop into my head.

Voldemort felt his form failing. The body built through ritual was unable to stand the force of hard bass. His spine shook as the bass travelled up his body.

"Turn it up!" Screamed Harry over the noise.

Hermione tightened the laces on her Adidas, before grabbing the dial on the hard bass machine, commonly know as Lada.

"Blyat.. " George gulped in fear as he witnessed the dial reach the forbidden level.... Gopnik...

On the Affectionate Nature of Veelas, a study by Harry Potter:

Prompt: Harry and Fleur are friends, they have been since they met a few days before the first task.

Later, after the second task, hear rumours of the other liking them. so, they decide to try and let the other down slowly. Basically, Harry thinks Fleur likes him, Fleur thinks Harry likes her, and both are trying to let each other down without hurting each other's feelings.

Later, they realise that they fell in love at some point, and it develops from there, with Fluer being really tactile and affectionate, and Harry not minding it one bit, because he finds out Veela hugs are worth including her in the shitshow that is his life.

The theme of the story will be wholesome, fluffy, and cute as hell.

Headcanon:

• Veela have higher body temperature than baseline humans. She is therefore affectionate, soft and warm. They also crave physical intimacy with their partners.
• Harry isn't entirely immune to the Allure. In fact Fleur enjoys entrancing Harry with her dancing. In private. And no other veela is allowed to try the same thing.
• Later, Fleur is determined to know Harry better every day, make him smile every day, find a new way to express her love for him every day. Because he deserves it. And he does the same.
• First law of devotion: always remember the effects your veela can have on you, even without trying to. They are quite magical and passionate creatures, after all. But be ever more aware of the effect you can cause in her, for you are the focus of that magic
• Veela have quirks that have particularities endemic to the individual. For example, all Veelas like to be petted in one way or another, for Fleur this means having her hair played with. Could be having it brushed or just having fingers run through it. This calms her and makes her glow. Literally. Harry was quite surprised by this at first, and then he was like * shrugs *if she glows, she glows. Am I right?
• Veela pass their folklore through song. So as a little girl, Apolline would sing her to sleep with stories of their elder days. So as she grew up, she always enjoyed beautiful songs with strong vocals like ballads.

Fleur: Overly Affectionate, softy marshmallow. Loves hugging and cuddling her Harry, all the time. She's not a morning person. Lead her to just sticking on to Harry like a limpet when it's time for breakfast. While looking fabulous, of course.

Scene ideas:

• Fleur is at Grimmauld place when Harry arrives, She spots him and immediately latches on. Much to Harry's delight, the Order's surprise, and Bill's chagrin. Because no matter how cool Bill may look or act trying to chat her up, there's no way in hell that she's giving up her Harry Hugs. Ever.

• How Hogwarts learned not to interfere with Fleur's morning coffee. Including Seamus Finnegan's singed eyebrows.

• How Hogwarts learned never to get in between her and Harry when she's in a cuddly mood. Fleur's extra cranky, wings, claws, flames and all. Malfoy narrowly evaded incineration. They throw Harry at her over a makeshift barricade. Fleur latches on to him and starts to croon/purr. Harry sees that everyone wants him to cuddle with Fleur. Decides that finally interesting things are happening that he actually wants.

• Post 2nd trial Fleur is pretty wrung out and Harry uses his champion privileges to skive off all day to comfort her

• Christmas exchange of gifts, when their relationship has not developed yet, but both think the other is very cute.

• Introducing Harry to Gabrielle, who is small, energetic, motormouth and adorable. She can't decide if she'd rather cuddle Big Sister Fleur or Harry. And then decides since Fleur is constantly cuddling with Harry, she wants both, and jumps in.

• Harry and Fleur visit the graves of Lily and James? Sad scene where Fleur is supportive and nervous. Lots of positive physical contact. They are both older, settled into their relationship. Quiet supportive touches, hand in the crook of the elbow, leaning head on Harry's shoulder, etc. Just unconditional support, quiet, expressed by touches, because Fleur is a tactile person. And no matter what, she stands by her man's side.

• Harry is sad and mopey/ stressed , and Fleur tries to make him feel better the way she's seen her mom do to her dad: Shove his face in her breasts and hold him there till he relaxes.Its suffocation, but Fleur doesn't realise that, at first. she's seen her mum do it, and her dad always relaxes afterward. Of course, that's from passing out from lack of oxygen, but… what a way to go.

• Harry wound up in the hospital wing, maybe after the third task. Fleur watches Harry having spasms in bed, an aftereffect of being tortured by the Cruciatus curse. She is unable to comfort him the usual way (cuddling/hugs). She desperately searches for a way to comfort the boy, the kind, gentle young man who came to mean so much to her. She starts singing.

• Fleur's parents quickly come to like young Harry. Fleur's father takes it upon himself to do every gentleman's duty: Teach the young man about the difference between a bad wine, a good wine and an exceptional wine.

• Fleur's family all taking their turns teaching him to cook their favorite french foods. Gabrielle of course just wants to take Harry for a ride on a pony.

• Harry learns the animagus transformation, and finds out his form is a lion. Fleur is immediately besotted with the form and can't keep her hands off his fluffy mane, because there’s more Harry to cuddle, and he’s so fluffy. Harry gets a cool Marauder name, but Fleur just calls him Cuddles.

• It is morning, after a night spent spooning, after freshening up, dressing up, Fleur imperiously turns to Harry and in her hand... a hairbrush. Fleur proceeds to elegantly sit down, leaving Harry facing a daunting task. Brushing the exquisite, looong, silky and silvery hair of Fleur Delacour, until perfection is achieved. It is an arduous task, long and fraught with risk. Harry dares not make a single mistake, a single plucked hair from a veela's head would mean facing her wrath. Yet that is a task that Harry willingly bears, faces every morning. He wouldn't have it any other way. The hair of his beloved - his most precious plaything. That, and he does it so she won't try fixing his hair like that one, unmentionable time, but we don't talk about that in polite company. shush.

• After a year together, Fleur finds herself having to look up to meet her boyfriend's eyes. At the start of her relationship, when they hugged, Harry fit neatly to her body, comfortably wrapped in Fleur's arms (and sometimes wings), Fleur could so easily envelop Harry. Now she finds Harry too large for that. Harry comes and takes her into his arms. Fleur perfectly molds to his body, her head neatly fitting on his shoulder. Bliss.

• Probably no Fleur in there, but: As Harry spends more time with Fleur's family, it falls to mr. Delacour to teach Harry about certain manly things. It is something he relishes, he loves his daughters dearly, but teaching these things, man to man, he never thought he would get this chance. This includes proper shaving charms, grooming and beard maintenance.

• Harry Potter had some limited experience with music. While the Dursleys did not play or listen to music much, there were still some songs in Harry’s childhood. The Hogwarts school song was a strange experience, but Harry in fact had fun. Hagrid’s present in the form of a flute brought much joy to Harry’s heart and even in later years, when he found himself alone, he tried to play a little ditty, simply to have fun. Never was he disturbed during such a time, were he a suspicious young man, he would think that Hogwarts itself enjoyed these moments of innocent joy. The musical experience that quite probably brought a large change into his life happened in his fourth year, near the end. He had returned with Cedric Diggory’s body, having to face the wrath and might of the returned Lord Voldemort and having escaped alive, but not unscathed. Now he lay in the Hospital wing, his mind muddled by the medical potions issued by the kindly matron. His skin was sensitive due to the exposure to the Cruciatus, painful spasms overtaking his body from time to time. His only company was the intriguing person who had found her way into his heart. The events of the third task, having to watch her go down to Krum’s onslaught, brought out a startling realization. He loved her. The thought of losing her brought him to the edge of despair and homicidal rage. The thought of never seeing her again giving him the drive to overpower Voldemort in a battle of wills. Now she sat by his side, face and eyes reflecting deep sorrow and despair, her hand cautiously playing with his hair. Then Fleur Delacour, face set with fierce determination, opened her mouth. Words in an unfamiliar language flowed forth, carried by a haunting, beautiful melody. Fleur always had a beautiful voice, but at this moment, Harry’s thoughts went back to his childhood, hearing the description of angelic choirs. In the darkened room, lights suddenly appeared as Fleur, while singing, wielded her wand with the deftness of a conductor. Harry did not understand the words, yet the melody and light show touched his heart, music expressing what words had failed to convey. Tears sprung from his eyes when the realization finally hit him. Here, in this room with an angel, he was loved. It was some time after that, when he safely recovered, after many talks with Fleur, Sirius and others, when he learned that in the Delacours’ home singing and music were a part of everyone’s life, he was determined. He may be a wizard, a survivor, but for his Angelic Flower, he would become her bard.

• From Fleur’s POV: Her best friend, her beloved, her cuddle partner, Harry was keeping secrets from her. That was not something she liked. Her wide eyes failed, her pout did not work. Even her papa assured her that everything was fine, assured her that whatever Harry was doing, she would love the result. After Harry looked at her with indescribable tenderness, asking her for patience, how could she refuse, when that look just made her weak in the knees, some primal part of her yearning to tie her Harry to a bed and have her wicked way with him? He wanted time alone and she could not deny him. Whenever they were together, he was as affectionate as she came to know him, as tender asleep as awake. His eyes never strayed, he was hers just as she was his. So she waited, patiently (sometimes) until he was ready to tell her. Her parents, her sister always smiled at her knowingly, it was infuriating! Yet she trusted Harry, since if she could not trust him, then whom? She carefully observed her Harry, she noticed certain details, sometimes his voice was hoarse, his fingers rougher than before, yet he always her treated with just the right amount of passion and tenderness.

• Until finally, one evening her wait was over. As was tradition, first her mother, accompanied by dear Gabbi sung for the family and guests. Their performance, lovely as always brought applause from family and friends. Now it was her turn, but everyone was smiling and looking expectantly. She searched the audience, yet the person she longed to see the most, was absent. Suddenly the back door opened and her Harry entered, dressed in fine robes of green and gold. A pop sounded and next to her a magnificent harp, silver, looking as if a god wrought moonbeams into the shape of this instrument. Harry assuringly smiled at her and approached the harp. She knew it was time to start. Unsure she began the song of the Lonely Comet and the Phoenix when she heard the tones, the tinkling of silvery strings of the harp, strummed by Harry’s agile fingers. And when the part when the Phoenix approached the Comet, until then all alone flying through the night sky, Harry’s voice answered hers. And so, from then on, two hearts sung as one, united for the most glorious of purposes.

• Continuing the affectionate Fleur prompt, Harry wound up in the hospital wing, maybe after the third task. Fleur watches Harry having spasms in bed, an aftereffect of being tortured by the Cruciatus curse. She is unable to comfort him the usual way (cuddling/hugs). She desperately searches for a way to comfort the boy, the kind, gentle young man who came to mean so much to her. She starts singing.

• Just an alternate scene that might be funny: When Harry arrives at Grimmauld place in OOTP, Hermione slams into him in one of her Hermione Hugs (patent pending), sending him stumbling back. Fleur's walking by entrance, because no one told her Harry was coming, and sees Harry on the ground, Hermione hugging him, and instantly overreacts, Fireball appearing in her hand, sprouting white feathers, etc, going : "Get. Away. From. My. Teddy. Bear."

• Harry had to cuddle with her for a few hours to calm her down (Not that he's complaining.)

• Bill looks like someone killed his puppy and made him eat it.

• A scene idea for Affectionate Veela Fleur naturally loved holding her husband Harry in her arms, she adored the feeling of his body against hers, relishing the shared heat. But what she loved just as much, if not more, was being held by her husband. She also loved dancing and beautiful dresses, so when the invitation for the Ministry Ball came, she turned her devastatingly soulful gaze on Harry, he complied almost instantly. For Fleur, the chance to dress like a queen and dance the evening away in her husband’s arms was just irresistible. They immensely enjoyed themselves, losing themselves in each other. Nothing scandalous happened, they just danced, basically ignoring all others. The next day, Harry’s colleagues awkwardly relay to him how they felt uncomfortable during the ball. While they merely saw a man dancing with his wife, they all had the feeling they were intruding on something infinitely more intimate.

• A scene for Affectionate Veela (i should really get around to writing a few more): Harry doesn't know whats wrong. Fleur woke up sick today, again, and he's really worried. She went to the healer later that morning, and now she's fretting, refuses to look at him, and seems to go out of her way to avoid him. That evening, he decides enough is enough. He corners her in the living room, and pulls her into a Harry Hug™. She tries to break away at first, but he holds on until she relents and melts into his embrace, signing in contentment. Harry gently lifts her face, to look her in the eyes: "what's wrong Fleur? "

She glances down, unwilling to meet his gaze: "i... I can't say"

Harry freezes, his brain conjuring up horrible implications behind that sentence. He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. This was his Fleur. She wouldn't hurt him.

He kisses her, gently, pouring as much of his love for her as he can into that one kiss, before he says: "Fleur. i love you. You're my wife, my partner, my other half. I can see something is really bothering you. If you don't want to tell me now, that fine. Just remember that i'll be here when you want to tell me.

Fleur takes a step back, out of his touch, and he nearly lets out a whine of longing at the loss of contact. She nibbles her lower lip in that adorable way of hers that makes him want to pick her up, pin her against the wall and fuck her brains out. she pokes her fingertips together as she glances up at him shyly and says: "'Arry... I'm pregnant" Harry's brain screeches to a halt.

Other Stuff:

A poem that might fit:

To whom,—as Fancy, taking longer flight,       
With folded arms upon her heart's high swell,     
Floating the while in circles of delight,       
And whispering to her wings a sweeter spell     
Than she has ever aim'd or dar'd before—     
Shall I address this theme of minstrel lore?         
To whom but her who loves herself to roam     
Through tales of earlier times, and is at home     
With heroes and fair dames, forgotten long,    
But for romance, and lay, and lingering song?     
To whom but her, whom, ere my judgment knew,     
Save but by intuition, false from true,     
Seem'd to me wisdom, goodness, grace combin'd;     
The ardent heart; the lively, active mind?    
To whom but her whose friendship grows more dear,     
And more assur'd, for every lapsing year?     
One whom my inmost thought can worthy deem     
Of love, and admiration, and esteem!

In this world, the abuse at the hands of the Dursley’s was worse and left Harry with some rather large scars. One of these scars is his inability to speak. Well, it's more like he chooses not to. Harry just hopes the saying, ‘actions speak louder than words’ is true. Read as Harry tries to woo a certain flower without words.

Click. Clickedy Click. Click. Click. Her strut was straight fire, her heels snapping out a badass beat against the cold marble tiles.

Fleur strode into the hall with all the confidence of a high maintenance OnlyFans stripper, her high-slitted-glossy-red-and-black-diamond-studded drip dazzling in the light of the moon far above, broken by the panes of the hall’s glass dome.

The strobelights of the party lit up the floor in shades of neon, dancing one her platinum-blonde - all natural hair- like random greek women in Zeus’ bed.

Or Zeus in random Greek women’s beds, she supposed.

It didn't matter though. All eyes were on her, drawn by her pure sensual, sexually charged aura, that broke all barriers of gender and orientation.

She was sex and beauty incarnate, and she was dope as fuck.

From the windows of the halls, she would see a few desperate simps, their faces pressed up against the glass, eyes wide. She shot them a flirtatious wink, watching with an ever growing sense of power as she watched a few of them faint from her gaze alone.

If it was up to her, she wouldn't even look at the pathetic incels and femcels, but one had to make sure the paypiggies were appeased from time to time.

Grabbing the mike from her fluffer, a dark haired girl she barely knew the name of - Katy? Kristy? It didn't matter- She brought it up to her perfect, beestung lips and breathed in.

“Lets get this partay Startaed!!!” She hollered, and the room ejaculated into cheers…

“So, what do you think?”

Harry tore his eyes from… whatever the fuck the papers in front of him were (he would not refer to them as a manuscript. He wouldn't insult manuscripts so.) to the enthusiastic, hopeful eyes of Fleur Delacour, sitting across the desk from him.

She smiled brilliantly at his silence, “Amazing, isn't it? I was surprised I could write something so perfect, seeing as I’ve never written a story before, but I suppose it was destined to be! It’ll sell like hotcakes, I guarantee it. It's up to date with the times and everything!”

Sighing deeply, Harry stared her dead in the eye, “Forgive my French, Ms. Delacour but… WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT?!”

Inspired by https://youtu.be/SPtPCK8Y-MU