Flowerpot

Marauders era fic in the world of DxD. Lily is Rias.

Medieval AU Fin’ Amors: In which an English Knight strives to gain the Favour of a Veela

The year is 1380. Sir Harry Potter, recently knighted due to his exploits in the Venetian-Genoese war, is given a new charge. He is to lead a small company, consisting of both wizards and soldiers, whose task is to safeguard an English delegation to Bohemia. Their goal is to secure a marriage between King Richard and the daughter of the Emperor, Anne of Bohemia.

Once in Prague, Harry is forced to be on his guard. There are many powerful parties who would gladly see the marriage negotiations fall through. Harry’s job is not made any easier by a certain flower of the Emperor’s court. The scion of a noble line of Bohemian veela and a wizard from the Valois court—raised in France, but in tune with her mother's heritage—Fleur Delacour is a lady far above his station.

In his youth, Harry had scorned the Chansons de Geste and their concept of fin’ amors. What need had he for such useless notions? That all changed at the first meeting of their eyes.

(Bonus thought: the wild adventures of knights in the Chansons de Geste, or courtly romances, are inspired by the magical world.)

Fin' amors translates to courtly love

Fleur Delacour has always been very good with animals and creatures, and they love her for it. Any man who wishes to date her must pass a test that is very important to her. This was why her relationship with Bill didn't work out, in the end.

And so Harry is determined to pass the test. He must gain the acceptance and affection of Fleur's devoted canine companion. He does his best to find out the best method to give scratches behind the ear to all three spotted heads of Fleur's puppy.

Months have passed since the war ended. Lives are rebuilt, what was broken is now repaired, but even in the waking world Harry cannot escape the nightmares that continue to haunt him. As he considers his future, he receives an unexpected note and sets out to discover something worth living for.

(TL;DR, Harry is big depressed. Fleur takes it on herself to show Harry exactly what his sacrifices paid for. In my head I imagine the story revolving around these mysterious notes guiding Harry to all of these places and settings where he achieved something great, only to be surprised by someone that was directly affected or saved by his actions to meet him at each one to express their gratitude.)

After forty years I left the sea For a life upon a lake. After all the dark lords I needed a good break. I thought warm weather would mean peace for me But that was a mistake For the house I chose was bedeviled By a giant evil drake A mallard of such malice, twice the size of any man A beak to give you nightmares and a monsterous wingspan You cannot hope to fight her so avoid her if you can The terrifying waterfowl The beast beyond the O- Cean

-Harry after moving to an old chateau in southern France that was repurposed by the family that owned as a long time hostal and meeting the heiress to it, and the one that took care of the lands vineyards, Fleur Delacour

The Cruciatus Curse made Harry scream, he screamed and screamed until he couldn’t anymore. After a while, Harry didn’t scream, instead he laughed, and said something so horrifying, even Voldemort flinched in fear: “I am we, and we are I; we will take pride in ripping your heart out and gorging on your flesh!” A demented laugh followed shortly after.

Little emerald green eyes gazed into little cerulean blue eyes...

Little Fleur spoke the words that would define a lifetime, "'e's so CUTE! I love 'im!"

"Zhat boy of yours will be a lady killler, Lily," Apolline spoke with a laugh. "Merde, whiz zhose eyes..."

Lily Potter just smiled at one of her best friends, Apolline Delacour. "I think that'll be a problem for the other girls, though...looks like Fleur just claimed him.

Meanwhile, Jean-Luc Delacour and James Potter stood watching the entire scene. Jean-Luc then laughed, "Marriage contraact, Mon Ami?"

James suddenly shuddered, "Merlin, if Lily and Apolline overheard us, our bodies will never be found..."

Flowerpot Dumbles makes an appearance, glaring at Harry and screaming, "What the fuck!"

He grabs Harry by the arm and starts dragging him towards a portal. Narcissa runs into the room and sees the commotion. She fires off a spell, sending Flowerpot Dumbles back through the portal, releasing Harry.

"Oh, no," Narcissa Whispers into an utterly confused Harry's ear. "That crazy old bastard won't ruin my happy ending!"

Meanwhile, back in his own time...

Flowerpot Dumbles lands in an undignified heap on the floor of his office. Fawkes stares at him and starts laughing.

Foiled Again, Flowerpot Dumbles thought to himself.

Flowerpot Dumbles looks around and starts throwing a fit. "Goddamnit, that idiot boy is going to fuck up my happy ending!"

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

It all came back to Harry. No matter what, no matter how, it all came back to him.

Fleur was tired. Tired of running, tired of fleeing, tired of being tired. She loved Harry Potter, and that terrified her. She'd seen his life, his wars, his hardships. Harry was the adamant foundation upon which Atlas stood, a unbreakable stone that endured the infinite pressure that world seemed determined to heap onto him. Fleur was, not...

She'd seen him, his soul shining out through his being like a fiery star, and She'd ran. She was scared, terrified that if she went any closer that she would be consumed. But just like a star, Harry Potter had a gravity of his own. She was pulled back to him, again and again in the wake of the war. And each time he met her he was kind, considerate, and entirely too concerned with whatever cataclysm he had been sent to stop to take the time to notice how utterly smitten she was with him. The only way he would ever know was if Fleur told him, so he never knew. But the world kept bringing them back together, and Fleur was just *so tired *of running. She had to face reality, all her futures lay with him.

In one life, Petunia Evans would have fallen in love with a man named Vernon Dursley, and with that love the resentment she held for her older sister would have grown. In another life, she would nurse Jacob Grimm back to health after an accident left him widowed, later falling in love and marrying the much older man. With Jacob's patient determination, she would reconnect with her younger sister.

In one life, Harry Potter would grow up unloved, and would have to contend with the bullying of his cousin. In another life, he would grow up loved by his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Jake, and he would have a big brother in the form of his cousin Ben.

In one life, Harry Potter would marry Ginerva Weasley, and stay with the family he found in the Wizarding World. In another life, he would marry a French Flower, the only person he had met who could set his heart alight.

In one life, Harry would go on to become a successful Auror, and help bring a level of security to Wizarding Britain. In another life, he would leave for New York with his wife, after he got a call from his cousin about something happening on a space flight...and his life would never be the same afterwards.

(a little thing that came to life when i remembered that dear old Ben Grimm has an Aunt Petunia, fairly obviously a Fantastic Four crossover, with some obligatory flowerpot)

When he was a child, Harry encountered an injured snake. Moved by compassion, he tried to help it as much as he could. The snake was in fact a mountain veela from Bulgaria, who had escaped from trouble and ended up wounded and exhausted in Britain. She had transformed into a snake to stay hidden.

In snake form, the veela befriends Harry, and eventually reveals herself to the child. Mountain veela typically have the gift of prophecy, and this one is no exception. She recognizes the strands of fate around the child, and decides to stick around to help him.

It is quite a different Harry Potter that meets Fleur Delacour, and the mountain veela is delighted when she hears that the boy whom she now sees as an adoptive son has a crush on another veela.

Harry and Fleur had been friends for a while. In fact, their relationship had gone closer in the last year that they had considered each other best friends. Being important guests to the wizarding society, they are invited to the annual Ministry ball. Harry who didn't plan on attending the ball, reluctantly invites Ginny to the ball at the very last minute.

(Fleur, who have had a crush on Bill Weasley, receives an invitation to be his partner for the ball.)

As soon as Harry gets there, having no intention to dance nor enjoy the party, strikes up a conversation with Ron who recalls their Yule Ball while waiting for their partners.

He remembered that Fleur would be at the ball and got excited at the notion of them getting to talk and possibly making fun of the ball and excusing themselves away from it. Bill Weasley approaches Harry asking if he'd seen Fleur to which he responds no but then as he looks up, he sees her and boy does she take his breath away.

He didn't think she could get any more beautiful. Of course, he was used to her beauty. It easily surpassed anyone. He didn't think anyone on Earth could look as beautiful as her every day. Tonight, he just realized that she had just beaten herself to it. She was the most beautiful woman. He was inclined to move towards her, to greet her and take her arms into a dance. But then Bill Weasley moves forward, ready to greet her and he had never felt more miserable.

Great. He had some irrational thoughts towards Bill Weasley in that moment. He wanted to challenge him to a wizard's duel. A fist fight. Anything. Instead, he chose to just mentally kick himself. You didn't even think of inviting her in the first place, he thought. He's just a best friend to her. He thought of all the times she had mentioned the ball and how it would be romantic to go and all the times he had laughed at the idea of it and yet here he was. What total dumbass.

Not willing to risk an argument with Ron, he found Ginny and danced with her anyway. Enjoying her company and almost forgetting that he wanted to steal Fleur away. Irrationally.In the middle of the night, they had met with Fleur and Bill who looked like a match made in heaven. There's no way he can compete with that.

The host of the party announces, "Well folks. It's that time of the night. I'd like to ask each gentleman to invite a lady he did not accompany this evening to dance the King and Queen's waltz."

Life was full of surprises.

It was a question that forced the 9-year-old to lower her book and look over at the 7-year-old beside her. He had wild black hair and striking green eyes. It was the start of a wonderful relationship.

Fleur and Harry meet in the daycare of the ICW during a monthly meeting. Dumbledore who is raising Harry brought him along, and Fleur was brought by her father.

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.

“How do you like your eggs in the morning? Boiled, fried or fertiliz-“

“Leave.”

This was how it went, every day he’d show up to the carriage and try some dumb pickup line on her, every day she’d turn him away. He did manage to come up with some corkers, from time to time. Once, he actually managed to make her laugh- not that she’d ever let him know.

He was the Boy-Who-Lived, and he needed to crack open a joke book from time to time.

Honestly, it was getting worse every day. He’d come up to her randomly, knock on whatever wooden surface was near her and then just start.

Imagine sitting in the Great Hall of the finest magical institution in all of Europe, only to be bothered by a child celebrity and his increasingly annoying pick-up lines. To leave, only to be followed around with constantly worsening humour.

What a nightmare.

After the thrid task, Harry and Fleur end up in the hospital wing, neither being able to talking the whole night and become friends through that. They exchange letters throughout the summer and Fleur can plainly read how miserable he is. So she comes to Number 4 to visit him and is shocked by how he is (nightmares, grief) and how he is treated. To avoid an incident, Harry drags her to a park where they have a talk and Harry reveals all that he has been through while Fleur just holds him close and does her best to be there and comfort Harry, cradling him against her chest, stroking his hair and the like

Prompt : What if all the Books about Harry Potter were actually true? And Harry 'was' the legendary gallant hero of bed time stories?

Like said in the title, a What if, about all the amazing and quite outlandish stories about Harry Potter being actually true. Like his fights with Vampire Lords, slayings of dragons and rescuing of princesses etc. Making him the incredible wizard that parents tell bed stories about. Of course all those adventures when he was only two or three years old is too ridiculous even for this idea, so a little spin is in order. Something like him having Dumbledore as mentor, or Harry arriving to Hogwarts at a later year or making him older, allowing him to perform those incredible feats.

You can even redeem Lockhart and actually make him into a real good wizard and not a fraud, so that in one of his books, he actually worked alongside the legendary Harry Potter himself :)

Harry's character is of course up to you and as we're here, add in the must have Flowerpot in all this.

Tell me what you think about it, as I would love to read something like this.

Synopsis: Exposure to dementors had awoken something deep within harry that night he saved sirius from death. Follow harry as he learns what he has unlocked and how this will affect him from now on.

Prompt specifics:

• Starts end of third year
• harry will have a kaiju animagus form (Godzilla)
• harry will have a partial transformation ( claws, scales, etc.)
• harry will gain more self confidence and leave the Dursleys
• harry will be paired with fleur.
• fleur will be able to shift into standard Veela avian form and a Rodan form.
• fleur's standard veela form will have Rodan aesthetics (red tipped feathers, embers trailing off her as she moves, something like that)
• Some kind of bond will have fleur and harry ending up together (magic, kaiju, or other)
• harry and fleur will be antagonistic towards each other due to the inner kaiju not wanting to submit to the other.
• Eventually some event will happen where they open up to each other

Not really sure what else I should put but there are the guidlines. I ask that credit for the idea goes to my fanfiction.net username CrimsonRasengan. Other than that have fun and tag me when the first chapter is up.

Fleur couldnt stand it. It was horrid, abominable, and just plain wrong. Harry had never been to the beach before. It was a travesty of the most epic proportions, and something had to be done. So it was decided. She and Harry would go to the beach. And not just any beach. The beaches of Rio de Janeiro. At the beaches, Fleur had gone to pick up some drinks from a nearby stall. In and around the stall, men and women alike turned and stared at the gorgeous french woman, dressed in a strappy, revealing onepiece as she waited in line for her drinks. A couple of young men, who had been outright ogling her for the past few minutes, finally plucked up the courage to approach the beauty, were suddenly frozen in their tracks by an ominous aura that seemed to emanate from the blonde. Everyone around her instinctively took two steps back, yet she didnt notice, her eyes locked on the sight that had inspired this feeling of dread. A distance away from the stall, two young women, dressed in two piece bikinis, were talking to her harry. Even now, she took a moment to admire her boyfriend. Having always been fit (out of necessity), Harry’s body was now a sight to behold, thanks in part due to her insistence that he work out, and a proper amount of food that helped his body truly develop. Lean and toned, Harry's body was to Fleur a work of art. Biceps that she loved to trap between her breasts, hard planes that she would worship at any point, abs she would gladly drizzle caramel over and feast on, those defined hipbones that led downward into the wonder that was hidden in his trunks, and so. Much. More. A small tattoo wrapped around his upper right bicep, the only blemish on his skin aside from his scars, a thick line of black, written in an archaic language that few knew of, and fewer could read, proclaimed “Property of Fleur Delacour.” Yes, Harry’s body was one she could ogle forever and worship endlessly. And it. Was. Hers.

No two bit thots would lay a single finger on her man. As she approached ogling all the while, she saw both of them lean into Harry’s personal space. He leaned back slightly, obviously uncomfortable, yet still unfailingly polite. As soon as she was close enough, she spoke, her voice louder than needed, but drawing the attention of those *sluts away from her man. “‘Arry. Zere you are!” She embraced him from behind, body molding to the back of his frame as she peeked over his shoulder at the two women, eyes narrowing dangerously, “and just who might you two be?”

The entire day continues in the same vein, with Harry and Fleur just trying to enjoy the beach, and Fleur gladly ogling Harry, while beating away the numerous girls who approached her boyfriend with a stick. The men on the beach don't even dare try to approach her, due to the aura of death she’s giving off. Harry either doesn't notice, or does not comment. He’s just happy to spend the day with his Fleur, especially when she’s wearing something so….. fitting. Could be part of a larger work featuring possessive!Fleur, or just remain a oneshot.