A Godfather's Promise

"Harry Potter" belongs to J.K. Rowling

AN: I want to extend my thanks to the great members of my Discord server, who have helped me with the writing of the chapter itself, but also re-igniting my passion for this.

Special thanks go to Meneldur, who has not only aided me with the crafting and editing of this chapter, but also the story as a whole.

With that out of the way, please enjoy the chapter!

"Dialogue"

'Thoughts'

"Foreign Language"

A Godfather's Promise

Chapter XVI: Love and War

The last signs of winter were visible from Harry's window. Drops of cold water dripped from the ice, falling down four stories below on the growing grass. In some patches of the green field, flowers of many colors were eager to spread their petals for the oncoming bloom of spring. The chill of the previous months was leaving in favor of a more temperate weather.

Fleur still thought it was horrible, of course.

"Ah… to see my beautiful Marseille again! By zis time of ze year we 'ave ze wonderful sun warming ze blue sea," Fleur swooned while checking her figure on the mirror, as she had done for several hours now. Harry was used to the sight of his girlfriend changing in front of him… but not with the type of clothes she had now.

It was visibly hard to put on a latex catsuit. Fleur was using one of the many bottles of clear liquids on her body and the inside of the outfit in order to slide her pointed toes in easier, followed by her long legs. She was nude; the candles and the roaring fire making her lubricated body glisten in the comparatively dim room.

"And 'ere we 'ave grey, grey, and darker grey," sighed Fleur, posing before the mirror after she'd magically pulled up the zipper on the back of the suit, "no wonder zat you people stare when even ze smallest bit of beauty crosses your eyes."

Harry turned from the letter he was writing to Tonks to see the suited Fleur. She was beautiful with any clothes but the outfit she had on was unlike any other. Her body was encased in gleaming black rubber that hid none of her contours, and yet left enough to the imagination. It looked a bit dull but after Fleur applied more of the liquid to the surface, it shone enough to work as a mirror. Below the neck, she was clad in the latex, only ending at the ankles. It was one of the many outfits she had purchased two days ago. "Zis takes too long! 'next time I weel do zis wiz a spell, eet takes far too long wiz' zese bottles!"

"You are the most beautiful thing here," agreed Harry, unable to take his gaze off the outfit and the way that it stuck like a second skin to her figure. Despite his nonchalant voice on the outside, a fire burned on the inside that manifested itself with a hard-on, thankfully hidden behind the large desk.

Fleur huffed. "Zat is very obvious, Maître." She continued to shine her outfit where it was needed until a familiar knock came from the wooden door. "But… zere are ozzer zings zat are beautiful," she said with a smile before opening the entrance to reveal Luna. "Ah… my pretty little mannequin is here!"

"Good morning, Master," she said to Harry, before turning to Fleur and looking at her outfit with a smile. "Good morning, slave… oh… I can see my reflection." Her eyes fixated on the black rubber as she rearranged her hair.

"Now, now." Fleur grabbed Luna's arm and led her to her vanity. "Zat is my job, remember?"

Harry smirked quickly before tearing his gaze away from the two witches and back to Tonks' letter. It was showered in blunt optimism, like anything Tonks ever did, even when she was down. Apparently the Auror program no longer accepted fresh-from-Hogwarts for training. The metamorphmagus had gone all the way to Amelia Bones to try and get an exception… and Tonks didn't write what happened next.

Probably something embarrassing. Sirius would tell him some other time.

"Who is zat from, Maître?" asked Fleur, coming back from the closet, holding clothes for Luna.

"Nymphadora Tonks," responded Harry, looking up to see that Luna was now nude and standing in front of the full-body mirror that Fleur had been using to pose before. If Nym had been in the room with them, she would have cursed him for using her full name.

"Someone I should be worried about?" questioned Fleur.

"No. She's my godfather's niece, we're like cousins or siblings. I've known her forever," answered Harry, his gaze back on Fleur. "I already have a lot on my hands with you two."

Fleur smirked but didn't say anything, sashaying her rubber clad form back to Luna and starting to clothe her in a snow-white dress and little else. Several charms were added for warmth, but no underwear was added. Were it not for the spells, Luna would have been woefully unprepared for the cold.

The French witch then immediately started to work on cosmetics. Between writing, Harry periodically turned his attention to see Luna being prettied with black eyeshadow and red lipstick. Some color was added to her cheeks, but little else. Fleur then went on to treat the Ravenclaw's nails and toenails with a silver color to match her eyes, finishing with a quick pedicure. Both giggled when Fleur kissed Luna's toes. After applying a pair of two-inch white sandals, Luna was ready.

"I wanted to wait for ze cold to go away but ze sun never graces zese lands," explained Fleur before breathing out a loud sigh, "so I guess ze charms will 'ave to do." She turned towards Harry using her arms to present Luna. "She's all yours, Maître."

Harry nodded, rising from the leather seat. "Ready?" he asked Luna and received a quick nod in reply. He grabbed his invisibility cloak and gave it to the Ravenclaw before turning back to Fleur. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us?"

"Non! For Hera's sake, I just spent ze last 'our getting into zis lovely suit – I'm not ruining it by going to a cold and ghastly forest!" she said, laying down on the couch beside the fire with a book on one hand and a coffee cup on the other. "I also 'ave to make my own meal now or I'll 'ave to eat zat slop you call food."

"Come on. Not like French food is the pinnacle of gastronomy."

"Sacre bleu! You do not know what you say, Maître!" sputtered Fleur. "Nozzing will ever be above French food."

Harry sent her smile. "Well then, I think you just volunteered to make my meal for Saturday."

"Bien! Prepare your palate!" responded Fleur before her eyes darted back to her book. "Go 'ave your fun wiz Luna, mon chéri. I'll be waiting."

Harry smirked before covering Luna in the cloak and leaving the room. It was not as cold as Fleur made it out to be; the snow had melted almost completely now except on the hills, but it was still chilly. Harry did not bump into anyone, thankfully, and deep in his mind he thought it was perhaps a little silly to bring the invisibility cloak, but he remembered that even if he didn't see any teachers or students, the walls of Hogwarts still had eyes, unliving eyes that the Marauder's map would not be able to locate.

"You can take it off now," Harry said to Luna once they were on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He had spent many days, both in this year and the previous ones, scouting to see where the more dangerous creatures laid their territory. The Acromantulas mostly kept away from the areas with exposure to the sun, Werewolves he'd never seen and the full moon was a fortnight away either way, and he'd never encountered an Erkling.

Harry palmed a large piece a wood and transfigured it into soft white rope while Luna disentangled herself from the cloak and he took a moment to see the Ravenclaw witch. She sported that dreamy smile she always had, and the white dress fit her looks more than her usual Hogwarts uniform. Her eyes did not stay in one play, looking from one thing or another in the forest.

"I always love it here," she said, her low voice clear among the silent trees. "It's always beautiful."

Harry chuckled. "Even when it's filled with monsters?" he asked jokingly.

"Especially when it's filled with monsters," chirped Luna. Harry did not know if she was jesting. Probably not.

Grabbing the rope tightly, he formed a noose with it and slowly worked it above the petite witch's head, fastening at the neck after fixing her blonde hair so it would not get entangled until it was secured as a makeshift rope collar. "Let's go in a little deeper," commanded Harry while giving a light tug.

The woods were almost a world apart from Hogwarts, despite being neighbors. After just a few minutes of going inside, Harry could not see anything that would remind him of the school; the trees had vanished the sight of the castle and the music of the trees drowned the cacophony of hundreds of students, chattering, screaming, and moving from one class to another. At the same time, Harry was very aware of the mirage of safety that the woods offered. Come nightfall, the place would become downright hostile to human activity.

"Fleur did a good job with you," Harry said, looking once again at Luna's outfit. He slowly cupped her face before dragging his hand down to her neck, her collarbone, and reached for the straps of her dress. "But I think you're still a little overdressed."

Harry made sure to cast another heating charm on Luna herself to keep her warm even as the dress crumpled around her feet. Without saying any words, he tied both hands behind her back with the rope, getting even more daring and testing Luna's flexibility by fastening both her elbows together. Not a word of complaint.

"Let's go in a little further," ordered Harry with an insistent tug and she followed suit. Once again, she did not complain. He didn't even have to order her to remove her sandals. Luna had a special charm to protect her feet; a lesson from her late mother. Her toes curled eagerly on the cold and wet soil.

Finally, he entered a small clearing, and by now only the tallest tower of Hogwarts was in sight, the massive castle hidden by a thick wall of trees. "I need to know from you… why did you choose us?"

Luna looked at him like he had grown a second head. "Well… I chose you because I like you… and it's quite fun being a slave! More witches should give it a try!"

"So… you are attracted to use because you're a submissive," continued Harry. He did not doubt her submissive nature any longer, not after the ordeal with the sleepsack. That's not what he wanted to know. "But why us? Do you love us?"

"Love is a strong word," replied Luna, looking at her toes. "I just really like you. You and Fleur. You are nice. The only people that have been nice to me. I think that's enough for me, thank you very much."

Harry breathed deeply. "You like us and we are nice. Do you think that's enough to form a relationship?"

Luna gave him that confused look again. "Do you need anything else? The thirty-nine stomachs of a Blibbering Humdinger are complicated. Liking someone is not. I just like you, and I'd do anything for you and Fleur, it's simple really."

He tried to look for a retort to her logic… but there was nothing he could really say. Luna was weird… but he couldn't help but smile at the weirdness. "Are you really willing to be with us, to let me dominate you, to let me reward and punish like I see fit?"

"I trust you. Why not?"

Harry patted her cheek before going to his trousers, undoing the button and zipper before pulling out his hard cock into the cold air. Immediately, he saw Luna's face break from her dreamy smile into a wide-eyed stare at his cock.

"Fleur told me you have a thing for feet." Luna nodded, her eyes never leaving his cock. Harry chuckled. "Think of it as the same thing… only bigger."

Curious silver eyes studied the tool before her like a puppy contemplating a new toy. Her mouth finally parted and a small tongue inched forward towards Harry's length. She gave it a testing lick first before she started to run her warm, pink muscle all over the head of his cock. Harry was already erect, and he was rapidly approaching full-mast, feeling a bit of pre-cum dribbling out through the receiving end.

It wasn't long before Luna's boldness took over and she engulfed the entirety of the head with her mouth. She began to suck, her cheeks hollowing around his length and taking the slick fluid that was now constantly leaking from his manhood. Every so often, Luna stopped for a moment to get used to the size before inching closer and closer to his pelvis. Her throat was tighter than Fleur, but then again, Luna was physically smaller than Fleur in almost every way.

Harry was taken from his thoughts as Luna coughed just a bit, the action causing a harsh vibration against his cock. Luna looked a bit teary eyed from the effort of having sucked his tool almost two thirds of the way before she withdrew, eyeing his manhood with a bit of resentment before opening her mouth again and trying but failing to get past her high-water-mark.

"It's alright," Harry said, understanding what she was trying to do.

Luna withdrew her mouth, his cock meeting the chilly air, deprived of the wet orifice, and looked at the ground, hiding her silver eyes from Harry. "I… I'm sorry, Master. I can't get it all the way through." He could've sworn he heard her voice crack a bit.

Harry almost let out a laugh despite himself. Luna had been bullied, demeaned, called all sorts of names… and the one thing that he'd seen her bothered by was that she couldn't fit his entire length down her throat. He grabbed her chin and softly turned her head up again. Looking into her grey eyes, he said, "Can you see how hard it is?" He grabbed his steel-hard cock with his other hand. "That's you. That's all you. You're making me very happy. Don't worry about it," he assured.

Luna's spacey smile returned despite some tears rolling down her cheeks and she quickly opened her mouth again. She never managed to get him all the way but the tightness of her mouth and the eagerness of her tongue made him start to go over the edge and soon he could feel his balls churning for an orgasm.

He grabbed Luna's blonde hair tightly and held her against his cock, making sure that she was able to breathe before forcing her to the furthest point she was able to take, just in time for the tip to erupt; the white, hot magma being immediately deposited inside the blonde's mouth. He grunted in satisfaction, smirking at the sight of Luna closing her mouth as to not spill a single drop of his seed.

"Good witches swallow," said Harry once he had withdrawn his cock. Luna looked perplexed for just a moment before her cheeks began to decrease in size along with several barely audible gulps, finishing with a satisfied smile.

"Salty," she stated, dragging her tongue across her lips like she was searching for water in the desert. "Thank you, Master."

Harry returned the smile and helped her get back on her feet. "Good girl," he congratulated with a gentle caress of her blonde tresses. "Let's get back before Fleur gets bored."

Luna did not put her dress on the way back, opting to just carry her stuff in her hands and the invisibility cloak over her. Much like before, they didn't see anyone on their way back. Most, including many of the teachers, had gone away for vacation and those that had stayed seemed to mostly prefer to stay inside the warm castle than go out for a chilly stroll through the grounds.

Inside his room, Fleur was still reading her book and dressed in the black catsuit besides the fire, though Harry noticed that she was using her other hand to caress her body through the rubber. "About time, you got back," she purred from her seat, her smile broadening once Luna took off the cloak. "Ah… zere you are. My arches are killing me from shopping yesterday," she thrust out her feet, "I'm sure you can 'elp, non?"

Luna crawled besides the divan and giddily went about her task while Harry went to the bed and reached below for the chest. He had enchanted it further so that more space was available but thanks to the way he had orderly placed all the purchases from before, he quickly found what he had been looking for.

By the time his attention returned to the two witches in the room, Luna was already running her tongue all over Fleur's toes and the French Veela had forgotten about her novel. He sat beside her and gave her a quick kiss. "I think we should give it to her now."

"Oh, I agree, Maître. Ze poor girl 'as been wanting one for so long."

Luna stopped her worship and turned her gaze towards the pair. "What is it? A Crumple-Horned Snorkack?"

Fleur giggled. "Non, non. Somezing zat you wanted from ze moment we first met." She fingered the O-ring at the front of her collar. "You wanted somezing that showed that you were taken, non?"

The pair stood up and surrounded Luna before pulling her to her feet and at the center of the room. Fleur kneeled down and started to fasten something at both of Luna's ankles while Harry took another pair of smaller cuffs and secured them around Luna's slender wrists before pulling them behind her back and locking them together.

Finally, Harry took from his coat the last part – a black leather collar to match the similarly colored cuffs. Pulling away the long blonde tresses, he slowly slid it around her neck and secured it with a heart-shaped padlock.

"Now you know who you belong to," whispered Harry into Luna's ear as he walked her to Fleur's full-body mirror.

So they stood, Harry and Fleur side by side behind the shorter Luna, who was decked out in her gear, hands helplessly tied behind her and two leather cuffs wrapped around her bare feet. The Ravenclaw's mouth dropped a little at the sight, probably the first time Harry had seen her look flabbergasted.

"We're an odd partnership," said Harry and they looked the part as well. Him with his formal coat and slacks, Fleur dressed in her shiny catsuit, and Luna, naked as the day she was born, all together like a portrait that would only be found in a deviant's most secret of stashes.

Fleur laughed. "Well… we were never truly normal, oui?" She traced a nail slowly across Luna's tits. "I 'ave so much to try on you, my beautiful Lune."

Harry couldn't help his lips from twirling into a small smile. "I don't know if we're being smart. Merlin, it could all end up in flames and broken hearts before the year is over… but." Each hand grabbed a leash and attached them to a collar. "Right here, right now, we're fine."

Fleur returned the smile while Luna stood on her toes, just barely reaching Harry's cheek and kissing him. "Thank you, Master!"

"No… thank you. Both of you," responded Harry before giving a quick kiss to both. He walked them both back to the couch and sat by them. None of them saying a word to each other. Words were not needed; their bodies were enough.

"Oui, oui!" Fleur finally exclaimed before she grabbed Luna's leash. "Maitre 'ad 'is fun with you already. Now it's my turn! Come 'ere. I bought zis wonderful lingerie for you… just like mine." She trailed off while pulling Luna towards the kinky wardrobe, no doubt to try and initiate Luna into her latex fetish.

Harry sighed, in satisfaction for once. Things finally seemed to be clicking together. Fleur may have been right, maybe he was troubling himself too much with thoughts of the future, but at this moment, it seemed that much of his future troubles could be resolved. He had two witches now, joined to him not by arrangement but by affection. Personal and political troubles shot down with one stone.

Hopefully nothing would come to destroy that.

There was something wrong with him. He didn't notice this because of the unfamiliar surroundings or the overwhelming queerness of the way his body felt. Indeed, he felt small, weak, like was missing half the bones in his body. Thankfully, his hand was still strong enough to grasp his wand, and his eyes good enough to see through the darkness and the figure that lay writhing on the floor.

"Please… I beg for your mercy, my Lord!" groaned the masked person, a woman by the sound of the voice. A voice that was exhausted and terrified. Her body was similarly hidden by dark robes that billowed with even the slightest movements she could muster.

"I have given you forgiveness," he said. The voice that came out of him was not his own; it was frail, jagged, and cruel, like nails dragged on a chalkboard. Deep inside of him, he felt the need to go to this woman and help her rise up, maybe take her to the infirmary… but that feeling was drowned with unbearable, disgusting glee at the morbid spectacle.

The woman had failed him. She was a waste of space, inferior to him in every way. Was she not right to suffer? Was it not justice that she be in pain? Was it not her place to be on the ground, terrified of his presence? Indeed, the fear made him break out a distorted grin that evolved into a broken, wretched laugh. "You should beg for punishment! Beg that I discipline you for your mistakes!"

"Th-That's all I know! Mercy, my Lord!" begged the whimpering woman, body wracked with sobs. "Wait! Th-There is something else… a girl… yes! A… A Vee –"

"Crucio!" came his snarling voice and the woman screamed her lungs out. He watched with glee, reveling in her pain. She was his, they were all his. Their very souls belonged to him. He could use them, abuse them, torture them… destroy them. He had made them all, and it was his right to unmake them as he saw fit. "That is old information. Plans have already been made."

The weak woman was sobbing now, trying to formulate pleas but they only came out as pathetic babbles. He snarled in disappointment. He was hoping for a little more satisfaction from this failure. The idea passed through his mind: should he keep her alive, just to extract more entertainment? Maybe one day she could be shaped to be someone better…

No. She was a tool, just like everyone else. There was only one use for useless tools.

He raised his wand, channeling all his unbridled hate in the long black wood and narrowed his eyes towards the target. "Avada Kedavra!" A bright, foul green jet of light sang through the air, flying directly to the woman. One moment she was squirming, and a second later she lay limp and lifeless.

Harry was disgusted with himself. Disgusted at his thoughts, disgusted at the way he gleefully took the life of a person, and most importantly, disgusted at the way he enjoyed the power over another person. The overwhelming authority between life and death was exhilarating, feeling like a supreme king, answering to no one but himself. 'House Potter reigns supreme – master of all!' He wanted to cackle, reveling in revulsion, ignoring all morality that had been pounded into through the years.

Everyone should kneel, everyone will kneel. Everyone will be his. His to do whatever he wants. His to lord over and dominate. The room became cloudy as he smiled, tendrils of black shadow taking the lifeless body away as he drowned in the gloom.

Then… through the boggy mire, a ray of light penetrated like a spear, thrusting into the heart of darkness before it grabbed his hand pulled him out into an embrace. He breathed deeply, gasping for fresh air as he felt the presence hold him tightly, not willing to let go even as he looked back at the enticing source of power he had felt. That was gone as soon as he heard… the light had a voice.

" – rry! 'Arry! Please wake up, mon amour! What is wrong?! What is 'appening to you?! Please… open your eyes, 'Arry! "

He did as he was told, green eyes opening to see a pair of beautiful blue sapphires. He knew those eyes. He knew that voice. "Fleur!" he gasped as his sight became clearer, the fireplace lighting just enough to see the room.

He was immediately embraced harder than he'd ever been. Even Hermione had nothing on how Fleur was hugging him despite his entire body being drenched in sweat. "Wh… What happened?"

Fleur did not answer for a full minute, content with holding his body close to hers. She was shaking. "You… you were… I don't know what 'appened, I just 'eard you struggling."

Harry already knew what had happened. It had been a long time… not since Fleur. Now, the nightmares had returned with a vengeance. "It was only a nightmare," breathed Harry, trying to sound as reassuring as he could but the crack in his voice was deafening.

"Non," Fleur responded immediately and stood up to dress herself. "We are going to get some help." The way she declared those words told Harry that there would be not room for discussion. She soon came back and threw a warm robe at him. "Get rid of those – you're drenched."

He thought of going to Sirius at first, but he would more than likely be asleep in Hogsmeade, and the Headmaster had decided to lock the castle down each night after the discovery of Crouch's body. "Let's go to Professor Dumbledore," he sighed before changing clothes.

Fleur didn't say anything. She probably was thinking of taking him to Madame Maxime but the situation would be the same as with Sirius. Harry could not blame her. She mostly knew of Dumbledore thanks to what he had told her and had been none too pleased about his numerous brushes with death. "D'accord," she relented before both of them walked out into the torch-lit empty halls.

Harry already knew the way; he would almost bet that he'd been inside the Headmaster's office more times than any other student that ever walked into Hogwarts. He arrived at the statue and before he could even say the password, the gargoyle was starting to shift, revealing a set of stairs. He grasped Fleur's hand before both of them ascended together and opened the door at the top.

Fleur took her time to inspect the office, even with the situation at hand he could still see her shaking her head at Professor Dumbledore's choice in design, whispering to herself in French. For his part, Harry's eyes immediately went to Fawkes. There were traces of grey along the red plumage; he would probably be experiencing a rebirth soon.

"Ah… Harry. How can I help you this evening?" came the voice of the Headmaster. Despite trying to sound the same as he always did, Harry noticed something different in the Professor's tone. He at least knew that something had gone wrong.

"Headmaster," responded Harry, trying to sound calm. Dumbledore returned the greeting before setting his eyes on Fleur and offering his hand.

"Miss Delacour. Hogwarts is a brighter place with your inside its halls," said the Headmaster, planting a quick kiss on Fleur's hand, "but I do have to wonder why you grace us with your presence. Does Madam Maxime know you are here?"

"Madame is not one to take much interest in 'er pupils' personal matters, Monsieur Dumbledore," stated Fleur in return, sharply but without hostility.

Harry rose to prevent any more uncomfortable questions. "Professor. I… had a nightmare." He couldn't help but feel the violent warmth spreading across his body. The future Lord Potter, scion of the most ancient magical house, the mightiest, wealthiest family in the Wizarding British Isles. Banes of tyrants, subjugators of Gaul, victors over Carthage, conquerors or Britannia… reduced to a whimpering boy telling an adult about night terrors. He could only wonder if his ancestors were either laughing or weeping.

"It felt so real, even more so than the ones I've had before," he confessed to the Professor after explaining what had happened. "It felt like I really killed someone." He remembered the screams, and the horrifying joy at casting the Killing Curse.

"Dreams often have different meanings and interpretations. I most often leave that job to Professor Trelawny… unless, of course, the dream is not a dream at all," explained Professor Dumbledore.

Harry took a breath at remembering Trelawny. If she had been here, she would have already predicted his death several times by now. "What do you mean that it's not a dream?"

The Headmaster gave a quick look to Fleur, then back to Harry before continuing. "Do you remember what I told you in your second year, Harry? That you and Tom have a connection?"

The Gryffindor nodded. This connection was apparently the reason he could speak to snakes. More recently he'd been wondering if the effects of this connection were purely magical. "Do you think I'm seeing what Voldemort is seeing?"

"Or what he wants you to see," replied Professor Dumbledore. "I cannot tell if Tom knows about this connection, and if he does, the extent of his influence. For now, it is best to not believe everything you see when you close your eyes at night. See, but see beyond what is shown to you."

Fleur's attention had been with Fawkes but now she had turned around. "Is zere no way to 'elp 'im, Monsieur Dumbledore?"

"Perhaps. There may be techniques, but I fear that he is too young to learn them. Arts of the mind have been known to destroy the young, and I would fear that more than Harry's connection to the Dark Lord. Next year, there may be a chance, when we are not under the pressure of the Tournament."

Harry looked at the Professor sharply. "I do not like the idea of the Voldemort running around my mind as he sees fit."

"Neither do I, my boy. I assure you, but I would not resort to Occlumency unless there is no other recourse. The Dark Arts may be a dangerous path, because it destroys those that the dark wizard targets, but the Mind Arts destroy the user. You would be right to fear them."

The door opened again and in strode Sirius Black, wet from the pouring rain outside. "Came here as fast as I could." He looked at Fleur before turning to Harry and gave him an exhausted grin. "Looks like you're spending the nights better than me, Prongslet. What are you doing?"

"It's the dreams again," confessed Harry through gritted teeth. Perhaps his godfather needed to be taught about tact? Or had he been out of Hogwarts so long that he forgot that witches and wizards were not to sleep together?

"Ah," breathed Sirius, "that again. I thought you said they had gone away?"

"They had," agreed Harry, stealing a glance at Fleur. 'She made them go away.' But they were back now. Harry did not wish for Fleur to see any of this. "I'm ready to take lessons in Occlumency if that would help."

"No," interjected Sirius, with as much gravity as the Headmaster. It was strange for his godfather to agree on wholeheartedly with Dumbledore. "That's the last resort. You're too young."

"Am I?" questioned Harry, surprised at the aggression in his voice. "I have mastered seventh year spells easily. I have the best marks in my year. You've seen how good I am at dueling –"

Sirius shook his head. "This is another matter entirely – the Mind Arts have consumed the brightest students. The most intelligent are usually the ones most in danger. For Merlin's sake, your mother almost died from it."

Harry swallowed hard, a reflex every time anyone mentioned his mother. Sometimes he thought he could remember her face, her hair, and her eyes; the same eyes as him… or they could be something he had hoped for when he saw his school friends getting picked up by their mothers. He immediately went quiet, but still clenched his fists. How could it be harder to fight someone with his mind than with his wand?

"So… what should I do? Sit and wait as Voldemort fiddles around my head?" asked Harry through gritted teeth.

Dumbledore turned around, showing his back to them. "Calm yourself, especially when you see the nightmares. Try to pick the subtle things – the time of day, the plants, the weather. Tom cares little to distort those. Then tell me what happens, do not keep these things bottled to yourself." He turned back again. "Of course, the best thing is rest. Tom would like nothing more than to have you exhausted."

Harry filled his lungs with air, closed his eyes, and unclenched his fists. "I understand." There was little that could be done. Perhaps another raid to the Library's forbidden section? He had the sneaking suspicion that Fleur would not approve. Hermione even less so.

Sirius winked at him as they left, Fleur following soon after. Before Harry had a chance to leave, Professor Dumbledore's hand landed on his shoulder.

"I understand that relationships bloom in this castle, and I do not disapprove of it," said the Headmaster. "But I will advise that you don't act too rashly. I would very much dislike for Ms. Delacour to be disqualified after a check-up with Madam Pomfrey."

Red faced, Harry closed the door behind him and accompanied Fleur back to bed. 'I haven't even shagged her!'

Latex was an addiction. Oh sure, it looked nice and shiny and more than a little daring when Fleur had first seen it after her maturity in one of the store displays in a racier area of Marseille, but now that she finally had it, she'd only gotten deeper and deeper into it.

After her date with Harry in the ghastly tea place she thought she'd sworn herself off the stuff… and then she'd promptly worn it just a couple of days later to sleep. Even now, away from the comfort zone of her and Harry's room, she had chosen to wear latex lingerie – one of the many sets she had purchased on her trip to London – underneath her clothes.

She'd learned that she had to walk a little more carefully while wearing them. Make constantly sure that the panties didn't dig in between her legs, be very attentive when she sat and stood from a seat, and make a great effort not to sweat. It was hard, it was tiresome at times… and it was indescribably exhilarating; the way it clung to her skin, the way it hugged her form, the way it groped and teased her breasts. She felt she could never really go back now. It was making her just horny enough ignore her visit to the carriage and go back to Maître so he could tie her up, place her over her knee, and –

"Do you understand, Fleur?"

Fleur shook her head, dispelling the daydream and landing her back in reality, in Madame Maxime's office. "Yes, I understand Madame. Is that all?" she asked, not really knowing what the headmistress of her school had said aside from encouraging her to do more training.

Madame Maxime breathed. "Yes… that is all. I worry about you, Fleur. This Tournament has had too many accidents. Are you sure you are well?"

Fleur knew what the headmistress was talking about; the death of Minister Crouch. The student body did not know but the heads of the schools had mentioned it to the champions. Of course, Fleur had heard it from Harry first. Her Dom was cautious, to be sure, but living in fear was something she refused to do, now more than ever, when everything was going perfect.

"Yes, Madame. It's just the weather. It's spring and the cold is still too much… blessings to Athena that Maman sent me some good coffee," responded Fleur.

"It is quite horrid, but don't worry. One more task and we'll be back to France, but that is not what I'm concerned about." Madame Maxime stood from her seat, her giant form towering over Fleur. "Fleur… I know that I should not intrude in your life, but… I can't help but question your relationship with Monsieur Potter."

If there was something that tore Fleur's concentration from trying to keep her composure thanks to her choice in underwear, this was it. She couldn't help but let her smile drop. "You have nothing to worry about, Madame. 'Arry and I are together, yes, but that has not made me forget that I'm also a champion."

Madame Maxime pursed her lips, almost as if she was trying to stop the words from escaping her mouth. "I understand that it's hard for you and your people. Hard to find a partner… but you are still young, being a Veela does not change the fact that you are young –"

" – and foolish, you believe," sighed Fleur. She respected Madame. Respected her a lot, in fact, but sometimes she felt that her headmistress underestimated her. "I understand, Madame… but I assure you that you have nothing to worry about. 'Arry and I know that we are competing once the task arrives."

"Forget the tournament, Fleur!" breathed Madame Maxime. "The boy attracts danger! I promised your parents from the day you arrived at Beauxbatons' halls that I would protect you, and I thought I did, at least from the young men at school… but this is different. He has enemies far worse than some puberty afflicted wizard taken over by hormones… not to mention that he is a young man as well and I would hate for you to make some mistake."

Fleur cut her off before she could say anymore. "Madame… I know that you are worried… but 'Arry is different. I know it. He has seen me more vulnerable than anyone and he has never done anything that would make me suspect him… I trust him." A smirk formed on her face. "Besides, despite our recent history, the French do not have a tendency to run from a battle when the things we love are at stake. You have prepared me well, Madame. Please… let me stand on my own now."

Madame Maxime sighed before falling on her seat like a brick. "Be careful, Fleur. Just do that for me. Don't let that brilliant mind of yours be tainted with English foolishness."

A musical laugh left Fleur's lips as she left the room, turning to see her mentor one last time. "I believe I am not the only French witch that has been tainted by English foolishness, Madame." She saw Madame Maxime turn red before she closed the door behind her.

The walk back to the castle was hard; the cold was not the reason why, however. It was that damnable, irresistible, awfully delightful lingerie she was wearing. She could only hope that her trained poker face was enough to hide the fact that she was breathing heavily and the warmth was spreading to her cheeks, not to mention that her wetness was threatening escape her panties and slide down her leg.

'Sweet Aphrodite… what would everyone think?' Fleur could not stop thinking about it with equal parts fear and... excitement.

Either way, there was no person in sight unless she counted the giant man sitting by a hut that was suspiciously close to where her headmistress had settled the carriage. 'Subtle, Madame. Very subtle.' Hagrid was the name of the man, a friend of Harry's that he had yet to introduce to her. For goodness' sake, he had waited four months before she finally met his godfather!

Red was the color that snapped Fleur from her train of thought. An odd color in the usually grey Scotland highlands, and so Susan Bones' hair stuck out like fire. The younger witch seemed engrossed in something that she held close to her chest, not even staring to see what was in front of her as Fleur stepped closer.

"Susan?" questioned Fleur and immediately the redhead's head snapped upwards, grey eyes widening and her face turning the same shade as her hair.

"F-Fleur!" babbled the Hufflepuff in return, looking like a deer that had spotted a predator and didn't know if she should stay put, run, or try to fight.

Fleur, for her part, finally managed to see that what Susan had been cradling between her hands was a pure white mountain hare, part of its coat marred burgundy by dried blood on one of its legs. In fact, Fleur managed to see that there was a whole kit of equipment near where Susan was seated.

"What are you doing?" she asked, finding a small spot to sit down on… and biting her lip soon after as her lingerie dug into her sensitive folds.

"I… I'm…" Susan trailed, eyes studying Fleur's figure before she looked back down at her arms. "I'm… I just found her…" she muttered before soaking a rag back in the steaming bowl besides her and starting to wash away the wound.

"I zought you 'ad left for ze break. Did you not return to your family?" questioned Fleur.

Susan stopped the cleaning for just a second. "Aunt Amelia was too busy with a trip to Australia." She had not mentioned any other relatives and Fleur did not need to know more to realize that there was no one else in the Bones family. She mentally chastised herself; many of these students had lost parents during the war. Harry had not been the only one.

She sat in uncomfortable silence, watching as the younger witch did her work with the wounded hare. Susan worked like she had some practice before, applying the process of cleaning and disinfecting the wound without stopping to think. She'd been doing this for some time, Fleur realized. Eventually, the buxom redhead took out her wand and wordlessly cast several charms until the white-coated animal looked like he was better than healthy.

"You are really good at zis," marveled Fleur, seeing the hare hop away back into the wild. She saw Susan smile as she put away her entire kit.

"It's nothing… not compared to what you can do," mumbled Susan, doing her best not to make any eye contact. She looked clearly uncomfortable, and Fleur could guess why.

"Susan Bones likes him," Luna had told Fleur while kissing her breasts. "Hermione Granger as well, even if she will never admit it. Not even to herself. I mean, a lot of witches in the school wants to be with him, but those are the ones that really like him for him."

"I'm sorry about Daphne," said Susan, breaking the uncomfortable silence with an uncomfortable topic. "She's really nice when you get to know her… but she tends to be hostile to many people." Her voice was tired, relationship problems more than likely.

Fleur huffed. "Eet is not your duty to apologize for somezing she did." She shifted on her seat a little, wearing the panties she had chosen was not right for the situation, yet she was stuck with them now. "Besides, I should not 'ave attacked you ze way I did."

Susan breathed in loudly. "Is it that obvious?" she asked herself before looking at the ground. "I guess you are right to be angry."

Never in her life did Fleur think she would be the one battling women who wanted her suitor. As a Veela, it was she that would always be desired and her partner keeping others at bay… and yet due to her kind's tendency to go for the cream of the crop of partners, she must have realized that this would be a possibility one day. Harry was a nice catch, one that almost every witch would want to have. For money and influence if nothing else.

Fleur was not concerned with many of them. Most were not the type Harry would like. Ginny Weasley was the finest example of most of them: ignorant, loud, and a little obnoxious. She briefly wondered how many of these witches that held the idea that they truly loved Harry Potter would run away as soon as he pulled out the cuffs and paddles. She was not threatened by the people that actively sought his attention.

Susan, on the other hand, was a threat. As much as a witch could be a threat to Fleur. Sweet, beautiful, caring… and extremely submissive. Harry would not be interested in witches that actively sought him out unless they were as odd as Luna.

That said, she did let Luna get into their relationship, but the Ravenclaw was sincere, even blunt about what she wanted. Luna made it known from the moment they met that she was interested and that kind of honesty was enough for Fleur, even warming her heart. Not to mention that the blonde witch was definitely as kinky, if not even kinkier, than both of them. Fleur may not be bothered with a polyamorous relationship as Harry was – the English could be unbearably rigid about relationships – but that didn't mean she was going to bring in any witch in Hogwarts.

"I am not angry," responded Fleur after a long moment of silence. "But I am wary. Every girl is worried zat 'er partner will be stolen from under 'er, non?"

Susan let out a dry chuckle. "I don't think you need to worry about having your boyfriend stolen from you. No sane person would cheat on you for another woman."

"I am more zan just my looks, Susan, and 'Arry looks for more zan just a pretty face," retorted Fleur, "and you are several zings zat I am not."

"But you are brave," whispered Susan, looking at the ground. "You are strong… I am not." She pulled her knees towards her and laid her chin on them. "Did you know how I met Harry the first time?"

Fleur shook her head. "'Arry told me zat he only started to really talk to you zis year after Gryffindor shunned 'im."

"During our first year, I didn't really talk to him at all. One day, Malfoy and his two buddies came to me. They told me that my Aunt would get what she deserved one day, that I better side with them at that moment if…" her voice broke but she managed to get out more through quivering lips, "… if I didn't want what happened to my parents to happen to me."

Fleur's jaw tightened, remembering the little blonde monster that exemplified everything terrible that she had been taught about the brutish English population. Every moment she even saw him she couldn't help but feel that despite how childish the boy was, he was still a wretch that made her skin crawl.

"I wanted to go away but they had cornered me… I am the only heir to my house, so won't be able to marry whoever I want… Malfoy knew that, so he told me that if I'm lucky that he'll take me as a second wife but if I go against him he'll give me to either Crabbe and Goyle when his father… after his father kills my aunt."

"Zat leetle connard!" Fleur had forgotten about her anger at Susan now. Even when she was the most frustrated with Susan, she did not deserve that.

"Then Harry came," continued the redhead with a slightly more positive tone. "He told them to get away from me but they went on to threaten him… they didn't even have time to raise their wands before Harry beat them up with only his fists." She bit her lip. "Professor Snape gave him detention for that but he said it was worth it. Hermione disagreed."

Fleur smiled. That was definitely her Maître. Even when he was being foolishly arrogant there was a certain charm about it.

"I think that was when I fell in love… as foolish as that may seem. Aunt Amelia would say that it's just infatuation and not true love but I've never come across another word to describe it," admitted Susan, by now she had wrapped her arms around her legs and balled up her body. "I tried to talk… I wanted to talk to him during the rest of that year, but I didn't think he'd be impressed. I trained and trained to fight just like him but I was never successful in Defense Against the Dark Arts – the year just passed by."

"I thought the second year would be better… but it was worse… it was the worst of them all. Harry is a Parselmouth. Over here, that is a sign of a dark wizard… everyone thought he was the heir of Slytherin that petrifying students. I thought it was ridiculous, even as every one of his friends left him. I could have gone to him. I should have gone to him. I should have been loyal… but I was too much of a bloody coward to do so."

Fleur could see tears forming in those grey eyes and without thinking she placed a hand on Susan's back. "We all make mistakes." 'Why am I comforting her? Am I not here to discourage any more closeness?'

"I'm not going to hold a candle for Harry anymore," declared Susan, with as strong a voice as Fleur had heard her muster. "He has everything he needs with you. You are strong, you are beautiful, and you are willing to stand beside him even during the worst moments." Even with the conviction, Fleur was sure the Hufflepuff was on the verge of breaking. "I… I am weak… I have always been weak, and I was not loyal to my friend as I should have been. I don't deserve to be with him." She stood up and balled her fists. "I don't even deserve to be in Helga Hufflepuff's house!" Then, she sprinted away back to the castle.

A part of Fleur – perhaps the same part that had felt sorry for Luna – wanted nothing more than call back to the fleeing redhead to comfort her… but Fleur did nothing.

'It's for the best,' she reasoned. Susan would have a hard time, but eventually she'd find someone, someone that would not be Harry. There was a truth to her words. Despite the Hufflepuff being clearly brilliant… she was weak. If she had truly wanted Harry, she would have taken her chance. Fleur had done it, even Luna had done it. Susan had had three long years, and still she had done nothing.

Besides, Susan did not seem their type. As submissive as she was, Fleur very much doubted that she'd be into getting bound in a latex catsuit and being spanked. The younger witch seemed to abhor causing or receiving any physical pain, even the sexy type of pain. Harry was a dominant, and he liked to show that dominance through physical action. Fleur and Luna were more than willing to satisfy that.

Aside from that, she was not someone that would aid them in the future. Harry's nightmare had been a revelation. Madame Maxime had not been wrong; it would not all be roses and handcuffs from now on. Harry had trials ahead of him, life-threatening trials that would require allies that would not falter. If Susan had not dared to stand beside him through a teenage rumor mill, how strong would she be against dark wizards capable of casting the cruelest of spells?

'I am doing you a favor, Susan Bones,' Fleur thought to herself, footsteps echoing through the mostly empty halls of the ugly and mighty castle. If she had any lingering thoughts on the redhead, they disappeared as soon as she opened the door to the room.

Harry was not there, but the warmth still welcomed her. She was now fully able to remove her clothes and rearrange her lingerie to a comfortable position. It was only after she had taken off her skirt that she saw that despite the absence of her Maître, the bed was still very much occupied.

Luna was asleep and fully nude, wearing only the black leather cuffs and collar that had been gifted to her. Two on her wrists, which were supporting her head, and two around her bare feet. A long chain was fixed to the head of the bed on one end and the other was fastened to the collar around her neck. Even when sleeping, the blonde's lips still formed that dreamy smile. At her side was a small note. Fleur promptly snatched it. The handwriting was clearly Harry's.

Gone to train with Sirius. Will come back at night. Take care of her for me.

- Harry

Short and to the point. Harry would always be bad at poetry, same as his handwriting, but there was always a bit of charm to his laconic words.

Unable to stop the grin from forming, Fleur discarded the note and looked at the sleeping Ravenclaw that her Maître had offered in his absence. She ran her finger across the arch of Luna's foot slowly, enough for the blonde to giggle and then open a pair of silver eyes.

"Hello, slave," chirped Luna once she had stretched.

Fleur's smirk was filled with mischief worthy of a cat. "Slave… oui. I may be a slave to Maître, but I zink zat you must refer to me in anozzer manner, non? After all, I am not your slave." She undid the lock locking the collar to the bed and fixed a leash in its place, tugging her to a nearby couch. "Non… on your knees," she added once Luna stood up on her two feet.

"What should I call you then?"

Fleur thought about it for a moment. Harry had let it be their choice on how to call him. She guessed she should do the same. "I will leave zat to you… for later. Right now, you 'ave ozzer concerns." She moved the latex that covered her crotch to the side, revealing a wet and obviously needy sex. "Do a good job, and I will consider giving you some pudding tonight. Get to eet."

Luna jumped to the task eagerly; the small tongue did wonders to ease Fleur's frustrations. She'd deal with the problems when they appeared. Relaxation was a rare luxury. She'd better enjoy it while she could.

Harry looked at himself in the mirror one last time. He'd chosen the robe he'd worn during the ball, but added a few modern touches here and there. Fleur had not told him anything about the dress code but his Etonian friends back in Berkshire had always advised him that it was always better to be overdressed than underdressed.

He tied his hair in a ponytail before walking out of the room and towards the Room of Requirement. Fleur had gone hours ago to prepare what she called "a proper French meal". Before that she had been complaining about the supposed low quality of the ingredients that the elves had in the kitchen, but she took them anyway. Proper preparation for French dishes apparently took quite a bit of time.

One of the benefits of staying in Hogwarts during the break was that most prefects were gone, and Filch could hardly be bothered to spend every night making rounds. Harry imagined that even the foul-mannered caretaker had other priorities around vacation time, even if it was just spending the days with that blasted cat.

Before he had even turned the corner, the wooden door that led the way to the Room of Requirement had already appeared. As soon as he opened it, he was taken aback by the decoration. White was the predominant color, not painted but because almost everything was made out of marble. The walls were filled with paintings, mostly of Greek gods. Above the candle filled chandelier was the ceiling, with a mural of the Birth of Venus. Directly below was a small table, decked with fine dishes and utensils and a vase of roses. The sound of a door opening caught his attention, and soon every other detail in the room was forgotten.

Fleur had stunned everyone during the Yule ball, even himself despite his resistance to her allure. This time he was both stunned and hard.

"Good evening, Maitre," she sang. Her platinum hair was made into a ponytail, with curls cascading on either side of her shoulders. She had just a tad of makeup that almost unnecessarily enhanced her features. The thing that drew his attention was the dress. Red in color and hugging her form like a second skin, it must have been one of the latex outfits she had bought. It was simple, two straps went on her shoulders and it went all the way down to her ankles. It showed the top of her cleavage, not that it was necessary considering the tight fit made it possible to see every contour of her breasts.

"Hey… Merlin…" babbled Harry, he couldn't take his eyes away from her.

"Eet's good to know zat I 'ave zis kind of reaction even from you when I try 'ard enough," whispered Fleur.

Harry looked at his own form. "I feel a little out of place… don't think rubber would look as well on me as it does on you." He took her arm and led her to the table, pulling her seat before taking his own place.

Fleur laughed. "Oh, mon chéri. Non, zis would not suit you. Too delicate for someone like 'Arry Potter." Her eyes studied him. "Leather… oui. Leather would be just right for you."

"I'll trust your expertise on that." Harry saw the bottle of red wine on the table and poured some in each of their glasses.

"A shame," sighed Fleur after taking a sip. "Eet was the best I could find but eet cannot 'old a candle to what you can find on ze streets of my beautiful Marseille."

Harry took a sip of the wine. It tasted just fine to him but it would be pointless to argue about wine with a Frenchwoman. "You live in Marseille?"

"I 'ave. All my life. My family 'as been in Marseille since before zere even was a France. My mozzer's family, I mean. My fazzer's family came from a different tradition." She waved a wand and two dishes appeared before them, covered in a metal cloche. Underneath was a bowl of soup; Harry could distinctly smell cheese, bread, and onions.

"Soupe à l'oignon," proudly declared Fleur. "Do you know 'ow 'ard eet is to find good cheese around 'ere? Nightmare!"

Harry scooped a generous first bite with a silver spoon. It tasted quite good. He had never thought of onions as anything other than to add flavor but he was surprised that he was already going for a second bite as soon as he swallowed the first. "Before there was a France? You mean your family came from Greece?"

Fleur wiped her mouth gracefully. "Did I forget to tell you about ze story of ze Veela?"

Nodding, Harry took a sip of his wine. "I didn't tell you much about my family either. Ladies first."

"Ze gods of Olympus liked to play their games, wiz nature, wiz mortals, but mostly wiz each ozzer. One day, ze goddess of love and beauty, Aphrodite, decided to play wiz Hera. Each would create an avian being, beautify eet to perfection, present eet to ze gods and mortals, and see which one was ze most admired."

Harry continued to eat his soup, paying less attention to the taste and more to the tale.

"For days and days both goddesses toiled. Hera bred the most beautiful peacocks, with wonderful colors and impeccable plumage. She trained zem to move gracefully and act as regally as a noble woman. Seeing zat Aphrodite was apparently doing nothing, Hera was sure that she would win ze game of beauty over the goddess of love 'erself."

"Zen, ze day came when zey called upon the gods and kings for a party. Hera was eager to show off her peacocks and all ze men showered 'er with compliments. Ze artists could not help their need to draw and the poets proclaimed the magnificence of ze birds with flowery words. The Queen goddess looked smugly to Aphrodite, who until now had been hidden in a veiled corner with 'er beloved and neglected Ares. Hera had triumphed."

Harry finished his soup with another sip of the wine. It had been delicious, and the tale was a perfect way to accompany it. With a wave of her wand, Fleur vanished the dishes and replaced them with another. This one he did know, steak au poivre, though the sauce looked more appealing than he was used to, and the meat was less done.

"You Eenglish don't know when to stop. Always grey in ze middle," sighed Fleur. "What good is steak when eet 'as ze consistency of shoe leather?"

As soon as Harry took a juicy piece on his mouth, his palate exploded with flavor. It was juicer than any other steak he'd had before, and the sauce had just the right balance. "What happened next?" he asked.

"Oh… right. Well, Hera soon wanted to rub 'er victory in Aphrodite's face. 'Was your skill so low zat you did not deign to show your creation?' she asked the goddess of love. Aphrodite rose from 'er hiding place with a flock of large doves. Pretty, but nozzing compared to ze peacocks… until zey started to change, growing larger and larger and less like birds. Their plumage gave way to silver 'air and their bodies became human… ze birth of ze first Veela."

"Immediately, the peacocks were forgotten – the gods, demigods, and kings could not tear zeir eyes from ze beautiful women zat rivaled even ze nymphs. If zese men 'ad wives zey were soon forgotten. Ze artists were so taken aback by ze beauty zat zey could not 'old a brush, and ze poets could not find ze words to describe what zey were seeing. Ze only one not stunned was Ares, for 'e 'ad ze affection of goddess of love 'erself. Now, it was Aphrodite who looked smugly towards ze Queen goddess."

"Hera was furious at being tricked. Een ze middle of ze revelry, she cursed ze Veela, turning zem into burning 'arpies, distorting Aphrodite's beautiful creation. Now ze men shunned zem and nozzing Aphrodite tried could bring zem back. She turned to ze one who could 'elp – 'er sister, Athena. Hera's curse may have been horrible, but it 'ad ze effect of giving ze Veela magic. Wiz Athena's wisdom zey trained zeir powers until zey could control zeir curse. A curse zat 'ad now become a gift.

"Ze Veela reclaimed zeir forms, and Aphrodite settled zem into 'er home island of Cyprus to join ze mortal world. From zere, our people travelled far and wide, accompanying ze settlers to mainland Greece, a large coven going north to modern day Bulgaria… and my ancestors zat went to ze colony of Massalia… we know it today as Marseille." Fleur finished her tale with a wink. "At least zat is what our elders tell us as children, when we visit ze temples of Aphrodite, Athena, and Hera."

"Hera? You have temples to her as well?"

Fleur smiled. "Of course, she gave us magic." She fiddled with her fork, not tearing her eyes from him. "What about you, Maître?"

"Rome," responded Harry "the gens Poteria. My ancestors helped bring down the tyrant king Tarquin and found the republic."

"Ah… a son of Ares. Zat explains your bouts of barbarity."

"You don't complain," retorted Harry. "In fact, you seem to like it more when I'm rough." He took the last piece of his steak, savoring the many layers of flavor. "Curious… Aphrodite loved Ares – Venus loved Mars, even when she could have had anyone else. Apollo was more handsome; Dionysius was more charismatic. I wonder why she picked the most violent one? The one with the most enemies? The one that brought the most danger?"

"Passion," responded Fleur, bringing out dessert: very tasty looking crêpes. "Apollo was vain and Dionysius was childish. Ares was violent of course, and brutal, and uncouth… but 'e was passionate. Zat is enough for love."

Harry sighed. "I'm not being subtle, correct?"

A melodious laugh exploded from Fleur's lips. "You would make a terrible poet, Maître, and you are missing one zing – Aphrodite dominated Ares, not ze ozzer way around."

"Is it really so different?" asked Harry. "I tie you up, spank you, dominate you… but I'm the one that has to attend to you in the end. You just relax and submit, letting me do all the work. Who is really the dominant one?"

"Eet's funny 'ow zat works, non?" She winked. "Maybe zat is ze way zat Aphrodite dominated Ares? She just let 'im do whatever 'e wanted. Just like I let you do to me." She stood up and rubbed her body through the rubber dress. "A shame she never 'ad ze chance to try latex. She would 'ave loved eet more zan silk."

Harry stood up and roughly grabbed Fleur from behind, his hands gliding on her dress and settling on her bountiful breasts. "You never answered the last part. Even when he was hated… even when he was shunned… even when he was dangerous. Why did she love him?" he whispered into her ear.

"Oh… mon amour. You should know by now – love does not care about danger."

Hey guys. Here with another chapter. Hope it was worth the wait. You may have noticed that the picture has changed now. The artwork was done by a fan. Isn't Fleur just lovely in her maid outfit? There's another... less safe version out there but that is exclusive to my Discord server. Hope to see you all there.

Link: FEKnu79

Until the next time.

The Metal Sage