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Bonds of Servitude Ch. 20
🕑 Added 2024-05-06 11:37:15 +0000 UTCChapters might be coming in slightly late this month as I'm in the process of moving. I'm done with the bulk of it, so this next week I should have more time to write.
...
“Black.”
“Bones.”
Bellatrix and and Amelia shared curt nods. Narcissa, not oblivious to the tension, took a long sip from her flute of champagne before dropping it off on a tray held by a helpful house elf.
“Lady Bones, could I have a couple minutes of your time?” She asked with a pleasant smile.
Amelia returned said smile. “Only if your dear sister finds it agreeable.”
Bellatrix shrugged. “Knock yourselves out.” She said, dusting off the shoulder of her dress.
The two took the opportunity and pulled away. Bellatrix let out a deep, long sigh as she quickly located another flute of champagne being carried around by a diminutive house elf.
Just as she lifted the glass to her lips, the portly figure of Minister Fudge ambled over to her, followed by Rita Skeeter.
“Ahh, Bellatrix. I see you met with Lady Bones.” Fudge said with the practiced smile of a lifelong politician.
Bella nodded. “Indeed, I did.”
Fudge's eyes darted from Bella to Rita. The blonde rolled her eyes at the Minister's obvious intent. “I'm off the record today, minister. Nothing you say will be used against you… for now.”
“Right, right.” Fudge frowned, wishing that Rita would just scamper off and let him give his protege a proper talk. “Bella, I do hope you can find some common ground with Amelia. I know she can be a bit rough around the edges, but we can't all be as personable as me.”
Fudge let out a full belly laugh at his own words, and he didn't even notice how forced Bellatrix's laughter was. The man wiped away a tear before something over Bellatrix's shoulder caught his eye.
“Ah! Excuse me, ladies, need to rub shoulders with a few Bulgarian dignitaries. Rita, I expect you not to harass Hogwarts’ next Defense Against the Dark Arts professor!”
“Oh, minister, I do believe you've just let something slip.” Rita giggled.
Fudge put a hand to his mouth. “Have I? Oh my, the champagne creeps up on you!” He winked at them before taking his leave.
Once he was out of earshot, Bella let out a low, shuddering breath. “I might chance Azkaban just for a chance to hear that man squeal like a pig.”
Rita shook her head. “You need to play your role better, Bellatrix. We don't want Fudge to know he's getting played.”
Bella scoffed. “Please, that buffoon is blind as a bat.”
“He's also a politician.” Rita noted.
“Whatever.”
Narcissa caught their eye with a pointed look, and Bella made a show of walking over to her sister as Rita broke off to continue to mingle with the other attendees.
The list of invitees to Fudge's end-of-summer fundraiser had changed drastically over the past few months. With his power base disintegrating, Fudge had chosen to invite previously unaffiliated members of the wizengamot, while inviting only key members of the larger factions. Narcissa and Amelia were the representatives of their group.
Fudge wanted Bellatrix to make nice with Amelia through her sister, in hopes of allowing him to latch himself onto the new center of power.
What Fudge didn't know was that Bellatrix's hesitancy had been all for show. A carefully choreographed stage play to make it seem like Fudge was pulling the strings.
“How are you holding up?” Amelia asked Bellatrix as she rejoined the two women.
Bellatrix shrugged. “Counting down the seconds until I can leave.”
Narcissa snorted. “I wonder what seventeen year old Bella would have thought of you attending a function like this.”
Bella stuck her tongue out as she pretended to retch, and the other two women laughed. Bella smiled. As much as she hated this snooty little shindig, the fact that she could just move around freely still blew her mind. Bellatrix had graduated Hogwarts into a world ravaged by war, so she had never gotten to experience the true freedom of an adult life until now.
Amelia tipped her chin towards the entrance of the grand ballroom. “Looks like the French have finally arrived. Fashionably late, as always.”
Narcissa and Bellatrix turned to see a procession of french officials and their spouses enter the ballroom. They all had an air of superiority about them, their dresses and robes sporting a lot more flair than their british and bulgarian counterparts. While the latter two dressed appropriately for a drab, boring political event, the french dressed as if it were a grand ball.
One particular frenchwoman stood out from the others. Arm around a short, unremarkable frenchman, she was tall and shapely, with silvery blonde hair that glowed against her resplendent sea-green dress that hugged her voluptuous figure.
“Huh, funny how that happens.” Bella said as she very uncouthly shoved a mini-mince pie into her mouth.
“What do you mean?” Amelia asked as Narcissa cleaned the corner of her sister's mouth with a napkin.
“Went my whole life without ever meeting a veela. Now, I've seen two of them within a couple of weeks.”
Narcissa shrugged. “Things like that happen. They don't necessarily mean anything.” Narcissa squinted as she got a good look at the gorgeous blonde that was turning every male in the vicinity into a drooling mess. “Can't say I've seen her before.”
“Her last name's Delacour, I believe. Husband is my counterpart in their government. I'm surprised the wife has shown up, I've only ever seen her whenever these type of things are held outside of England.”
“Maybe our reforms have started to make our country not seem so backward.” Narcissa said with a hint of pride.
“Or maybe she wants to meet the great Bellatrix Black.” Bella said sarcastically.
Amelia finished her drink, feeling the slight buzz in her head that told her she had reached the right level of tipsy to manage the event and that it was time to stop.
“Let's go mingle.”
…
“Jean! Its always a pleasure to see you. And this must be your wife! What a stunning beauty she is!”
Apolline's smile was just the slightest bit more strained as the british minister eye-fucked her. She held her dainty hand out and the man shook it with the elegance of a charging bull.
She dug a nail onto Jean's arm and he obeyed like the loyal little dog he was, stepping forth to redirect the minister's attention as Apolline drifted away from them.
She was used to this type of thing. Her life revolved around looking pretty and smiling at pathetic little insects that she wished she could just crush underfoot, she was well practiced at this point.
But she was in England now. And didn't that make it all the worse?
The weather since they'd arrived had been dreadful. The decorations were drab, the people did not know how to dress, and the food was absolutely horrific. Even now, at such a high-end event, the minister had house elves carrying trays full of disgusting slop that they somehow thought delectable.
And to think, her poor king had spent his entire life subjected to such unpleasantness.
Apolline took a glass of the fizzy syrup they had the audacity to call champagne and began to drink. This was all for her king, and mother had impressed on her
Just how important this was, not that she'd needed the reminder. If they failed in their task, the immediate move from the veela council would be all out war, regardless of the outcome.
Apolline would not mind a war of annihilation against the inferior vermin, but she also recognized mother had secured for her a great honor. If Fleur and her could succeed in saving their king, her family's place in the veela hierarchy would be unassailable, they would remain at the side of their king, queens in all but name.
And so, she was here to make sure her dog did his job. Even now, after breaking off from Fudge, Jean was searching for the head of Magical Transportation. Whomever that was, Apolline was sure he was as amenable to a hefty bribe as the men back home were, and if he resisted, a private dinner where her veela allure turned his mind to mush would clinch it.
Once Fleur secured their king, they would need a means of immediate escape from britain. Considering Hogwarts, with its mighty wards and ultra-powerful headmaster, it would have been a hard task for Fleur to escape unscathed.
But, with an international portkey, one with a special authorization to bypass any and all wards, Fleur and their king could be whisked away to safety in an instant.
Jean would lay it on thick, talking about his daughter's desire to join the school and his paranoia over her safety. He would push for the special portkey as a concerned father. They would try to keep the information from reaching Dumbledore, but if it did, she was more than ready to have her husband explain himself. Dumbledore had no reason to suspect anything untoward, it was just an exchange student with a powerful father that worried too much, after all.
Apolline grimaced as she drank more of the swill. Unfortunately, her job here was not done, not by a long shot. She could not leave the task of locating the king's sword to her daughter alone, after all.
“Definitely make all this shit more manageable, don't they?”
Apolline glanced up to see a woman with wild, dark curls gesturing towards her glass.
Apolline took the woman in. She was curvy, and could be considered attractive by the standards of inferior beings. She lacked any kind of refinement in her posture, and Apolline would have dismissed her as unimportant, if it wasn't for the scent.
It was subtle, faint, but it clung to her as if she'd been rolling around in it. It was so faint, that to Apolline's frustration she could not place it for the life of her, but it was something that tickled her nose and made her mouth water.
“Yes, I shudder to think of anyone who would subject themselves to these events without alchohol.”
Apolline responded with a smile as she tipped her glass at the other woman.
The woman gave a very unladylike snort. “Tell me about it. You're a veela, aren't you?”
“...Yes.”
“I met one of you guys recently, you know. I was just talking to my sister about how funny it is, the way those things happen.”
Apolline blinked, realization dawning on her. “My name is Apolline Delacour, who might you be?”
“Bellatrix Black.”
At that very moment, a supremely busty redhead and a shapely blonde that bore a resemblance to Bellatrix approached. And with all three women gathered together, the smell became more concentrated.
These putains were amongst her king's enslavers, and they had been feeding from his sacred rod.
Apolline felt a burning fury overtake her. Every bone in her body urged her to hurl a fireball at these wenches, one large enough to leave nothing but cinders behind.
“I hope my sister hasn't said anything to upset you.”
Apolline smiled at the newcomer, Narcissa Malfoy, her king's primary jailer.
“Not at all, I actually find her presence quite refreshing.” She said, her smile easy as her entire body felt ready to snap, her hands halfway morphed into claws that would stain the ballroom with this woman's blood.
“I am Narcissa Malfoy, and this is Amelia Bones, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”
That made Apolline's stomach turn. It meant that someone at the highest level of the British government was entwined in this, something that they had been dreading. Their king's status as the ‘Boy-Who-Lived’ would already complicate things, but with a department head involved (and what a cruel fate it was that it was law enforcement of all things) it made the situation that much more precarious.
‘Get it together. Remember, the fate of our entire nation, the fate of our king rests on your shoulders’
This was a challenge, but it could also be an opportunity.
“I've met your husband before, Lady Delacour, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.” Amelia said.
“Yes, I will admit that I was hesitant, but I have found that this country is really quite charming. I cannot wait to explore it further.”
Narcissa perked up. “Oh? You will be visiting more often?”
“Actually, my daughter is to be enrolled at Hogwarts this year, so I expect to spend a considerable amount of time here.”
“You chose Hogwarts over Beauxbatons?” Amelia asked. While there were no laws against it, magicals tended not to attend schools outside of their region unless there was some sort of major conflict going on.
“Well, Fleur is going into her fifth year. She wishes to pursue a mastery in arithmancy, and Hogwarts is the premier institution in all of Europe in that regard.” Apolline was glad that they had sat down and fleshed out this lie for situations like this.
“Hah! It just keeps getting weirder and weirder!” Bellatrix commented. “I have actually just been hired to teach Defense at Hogwarts.”
Apolline raised an eyebrow. Yet another complication that could be twisted into an advantage. “Oh my, is that so? Really, these serendipitous moments can leave one with goosebumps. I hope I am not overstepping, but I would love to keep in touch so that I may better monitor my Fleur's progress.”
Bella shrugged. “Sure.”
“A picture of the four of you together could make the cover of playwizard. I can talk to the head editor, if you're interested.”
Amelia rolled her eyes. “Classy as always, Skeeter.”
A new woman had entered the fray, wearing an obnoxious pair of horn-rimmed glasses and overly-done blonde curls that made her look like a circus clown.
And this woman too carried her king's scent.
“Is everything alright?” Narcissa asked as she noticed Apolline tense up.
Apolline was seething. They were using her king like a parisian whore. It took all of her willpower not to explode.
“My apologies, It is just… some of the men here seem to lack manners.” She nodded towards one of the many men that were ogling her.
“Men are pathetic. Well, most of them, anyways.” Rita said, and all the women shared knowing looks.
Apolline swiped a glass of champagne from a passing house elf and practically chugged it down.
“I must say, I quite enjoy your company. If it is not too forward of me, may I possibly meet with you when I return to England?”
Narcissa smiled. “That would be wonderful. We actually have a growing circle of friends, and there's always room for one more.”
Apolline bowed her head. “Magnifique.”
…
The old lady ambled down Knockturn Alley, leaning heavily onto her cane. Accompanying her was a diminutive figure, the size of a small child, face completely obscured by their hood.
That was at least what the denizens of Knockturn Alley saw. A few of them took a long look at her, especially at the purse that hung tantalizingly from her arm, but they thought better of trying to rob her. It was Knockturn Alley, after all, and things were not always what they seemed.
And they were right to think that, because the old lady was actually a metamorphmagus that had only just recently turned eighteen. The reason Nym was leaning so heavily onto her cane wasn't just for effect, though, her body was still recovering from giving birth. Her morphing had been locked at the second trimester, and now that she could use her powers again, her balance was even more out of whack than usual.
That did not stop Tonks from going out and taking care of business, though. She wasn't in school anymore, after all, and she couldn't rest on her laurels.
Amelia Bones had offered her a job in the DMLE, partly because of Tonks’ impressive networking skills in the underworld and partly because she wanted to keep the girl close in order to minimize the damage she could cause.
But Tonks could never work for someone else. She was a go-getter, an enterprising young woman who liked the thrill of building and running her growing empire. Now backed by the Black and Malfoy wealth, she was going to expand her operations, and she had ambitions that stretched far beyond the shores of Britain.
Of course, she wasn't dealing with school children anymore, she was out in the world, which meant there was an added layer of danger that hadn't been there before. But she could deal with that.
Tonks and her companion stopped in front of a particular establishment. It did not stand out from all the others around it, it was a ramshackle space squeezed in between two dilapidated brick buildings, standard fare this deep into Knockturn.
“You ready for action, short stuff?”
The hooded figure nodded. “I find myself excited, mistress.”
Tonks grinned. “That's good to hear, Tommy. They say if you love what you do, you'll never work a day in your life.”
They swept in through the crooked door. The place was magically expanded on the inside, and it was filled with around a dozen tables, all but one empty.
The two men who were sitting at the table near the back turned. One was an old man with what looked like a permanent sneer on his bearded face. The other man was closer to middle aged, his face lined with varying scars both old and new.
“You lost?” The scarred man asked. If Penny's intel had been right, and it always was, he was a werewolf. The full moon was in a few days, so he would be nearing his strongest.
“It depends.” Tonks said as she took a daring step forward. “Are you two the ones trying to muscle me out of the potions imports?”
The two men shared a look before the werewolf snorted as he leapt to his feet.
“Gotta say, never seen an old hag with balls quite like yours.” He cracked his neck as he walked casually towards them. “You must be the Boss Lady. What, couldn't find a babysitter for your grandson?” He nodded towards Tom.
“Maybe she thought we'd go easy on her if she brought a kid along.” The old man laughed from his seat.
Tonks gave the men a thin smile. “I was willing to play nice, you know. I'm all about the spirit of competition. But trying to break the stasis charm on my shipments so they spoil? Well, that's a different kind of competition.”
“You got off easy, bitch. You should have quit while you were ahead. You thought we'd just let you muscle in on our turf?” The werewolf snarled.
“Make sure to mangle them well and good, boys.” The old man said. “We can hang them up by Borgin's.”
Tonks and Tom didn't need to turn around, they heard the sudden sounds of rushing footsteps, there were at least five wizards by the doorway now.
The werewolf looked over Tonks’ shoulder. “Don't curse them until I get first bite.” His eyes returned to her, a feral glint in them as he gave her a wide, predatory smile. “This is going to be fun.”
“I agree.” Tonks said.
She tapped her cane and Tom leapt into action.
The werewolf lunged at her, and just before his long, sharp nails were about to graze her, a purple spike flew up under his chin and smashed right through his skull. Blood, brains and pieces of skull showered the room as the spike lifted the werewolf's body up and embedded itself onto the ceiling.
Tonks wiped some of the blood that splashed onto her face as the old man fell from his seat. The werewolf's body now hung from the ceiling, limbs twitching and trashing in its death throes.
“Make sure to leave one of them alive.”
Tom nodded, and Tonks walked over to the old man as the demonic gnome began slicing through the now terrified men who had missed their chance to flee.
Tonks pulled up a chair and sat in front of the old man, who had finished pissing himself as he stared up at her in fear.
“Who the fuck are you?” He spat.
Tonks smiled, and she allowed her face to morph into her regular, bubbly self. “Me? I'm just a girl with a dream.”
She twisted the handle of her cane and a sharp blade emerged from the bottom. One clean slice later, and her major competitor was lying in an ever-growing pool of blood, hands at his throat as his desperate eyes filled with terror as the life drained away from him.
“Everything in order back there?”
“All clear, mistress.” Tom called.
Tonks walked over to see that Tom had handled things well. There were four bodies, mangled and bloodied, and there was one man still alive, openly weeping, but breathing.
Tom had severed his legs at the knee and his arms at the elbow, making sure to cauterize the wounds to stop him from bleeding out.
Tonks put a foot on the man's chest. He looked up at her with terror-filled eyes. “Let everyone know, this is what happens when you try to fuck with the Boss Lady. It'll be better for everyone's health if you just step in line.” Then, she gave him a cheerful smile. “You gonna remember all that?”
“Y-Y-yes!”
“Cool!”
…
“How did that feel, Tom?” Tonks asked as she placed grandfather's cane back in its stand as Tom removed the hood of his cloak.
“It felt good, mistress. It was… different from before, when I used to do similar things.” Tom said.
“You're playing for the good guys now, Tommy.” Tonks said with a smile.
Even in his warped mind, Tom was able to reason that what they'd done had not been something that could be attributed to a ‘good’ guy. Yet till, even though the violence he'd inflicted on those men was par for the course for his life, it had felt different. He'd felt good, but not because of the violence itself, he'd felt good because mistress Tonks had been proud of him.
“Ah! There you are, Tom. Would you mind helping me?” Mistress Andromeda emerged from a doorway, her hair disheveled and sweat covering her brow. “Poppy asked me to restock potions for the infirmary, and I'm a bit behind.”
Tom smiled, that same soaring feeling returning to his heart. “Of course, mistress, how can I be of service?”
As Tom split away to help her mother, Tonks went up to the rooms. She heard voices coming from behind one door, and
She grinned, popping the door open, eager to see what type of debauchery they were getting into.
Harry and the girls were sitting in a circle. Susan was cradling Cassiopea in her arms while Daphne cooed away at the laughing baby. Darcia and Hermione were sitting to his left as the sunkissed pair of Pansy and Tracey sat opposite them all.
“You guys are so boring.” Tonks said as she entered the room. Cassipeia's head snapped over to her the moment she heard her voice, pudgy arms reaching out towards her. Nym sighed, but she couldn't help but smile as she took her baby from Susan and promptly sat down on Harry's lap, shrinking her frame down so that it was a bit more manageable for the boy.
“Can't spend every waking moment having sex.” Darcia said before turning back towards Tracey and Pansy. “You were saying?”
“Yeah, well, in Greece, herbology and potions were actually cool! They had this huge botanical garden that put the greenhouses at Hogwarts to shame, and they had all kinds of crazy magical plants. I'm sure Longbottom would have creamed himself.” Pansy said
“ And some of the people had staffs instead of wands!” Tracey tacked on excitedly. “It's like… a sign of wisdom, or being old. And the yogurt was so good too!”
“We got you guys some protective amulets. They sold them all over the place in Athens.” Pansy added, digging into her purse and pulling out a handful of necklaces with a small medallion attached. The medallion had a siren carved onto it, and as she handed them out, the others could feel that they definitely had some weight to them.
“Can you give Penny her's? I'm sure you'll see her before we do.” Pansy said as she handed an extra one to Tonks.
Nym nodded. “Sure will. In the meantime, I guess this little monster could use all the protection she can get.” She draped the medallion over Cassie's neck, and the little baby immediately grabbed the stone and stuffed it in her mouth.
“So these have protections?” Harry asked as he looked at the siren curiously. Whoever had carved it had taken great care to give her a very voluptuous figure, a big ask on such a limited canvas.
“Oh, yeah! The guy at the kiosk.said they ward off bad spirits, give you good luck, keep you skin clear and make your hair more shiny.” Tracey said.
Hermione's eyes narrowed. “They do… all of those things? At once?”
“That's what the guy said. And we got them all for only three galleons!”
Hermione muttered a diagnostic charm over her amulet, “This just has a cheering charm on it, and its fading away fast.”
Tracey's face paled as she looked at Pansy. “You don't think we got scammed, do you? That was my whole summer allowance.”
Tonks snorted. “Sure looks like it, squirt.”
Harry tried to salvage the situation. “They look really nice.”
“Regardless of the charms, I think these are great.” Darcia said as she smiled at her friends. “They're like a little reminder of us, of everything we went through last year.”
“Everything we accomplished.” Daphne said.
“Everything we accomplished.” Darcia agreed. “And what we've yet to achieve.”
“I like the sound of that.” Susan said as everyone placed their amulets around their necks. “We're Harry's sirens then?”
The girls giggled as Harry blushed.
“I like the sound of that.” Pansy said. “Now that we're no longer the Boss Lady's minions.”
“You'll always be my servants.” Nym said. “Though that reminds me, I needed to have a talk with you two.” She nodded towards Pansy and Tracey.
“Us? What for?”
“Well, someone has to take over the Hogwarts end of the business, and I can't exactly run it from the outside, especially not with all my other responsibilities.”
Pansy blinked. “What? But I thought Penny-”
“Penny's going to be extra busy. She's got a full slate of classes and she's still doing the admin stuff for my soon to be global empire. Besides, Penny herself will tell you she isn't built for leadership. Hogwarts needs a strong personality to run it, an iron grip, and I figure that between you and Tracey, you can sorta make up one of those.”
“A ringing endorsement.” Tracey said sarcastically.
“We'll do it.” Pansy said with a growing smile. “We'll need some help though.”
“You'll have all of us.” Daphne assured. “I'm really good with logistics too, and I'm sure Hermione's got a mind for organization.”
Cassie gurgled on Tonks’ lap, arms held out wide as she reached for her father behind them. Tonks got up from Harry's lap and handed her over to him, “I see I'm leaving things in good hands. I'll be getting a ten percent kickback of all profits, obviously.”
“Obviously.”
…
The red paint was peeling off the steam engine, in the same exact spot it had been decades ago when she'd last ridden the train. The steam engine gave off a surprising amount of heat, enough to make standing near it just the slightest bit uncomfortable, and Bellatrix was immediately brought back to when she was a tiny little troublemaker about to step onto this train for the first time. Those memories felt so magical, especially since the first person she ran into that day had been a fiery redhead who would go on to completely upturn Bellatrix's worldview.
Bella hadn't had much time to think of Lily with everything going on, but just the image of the redhead drove a stake through her heart. The two had become sisters in all but blood, and Bella had been much closer to Lily than she had to Cissy and Andi back then. Their bond had held strong despite them being in rival houses and Bella having to grow past her prejudices at the start.
“Dredges up old memories, doesn't it?” Arcturus asked from her side.
The fact that grandfather was here to see the children off made the occasion feel that much more momentous. Arcturus was glaring at the Hogwarts Express, both hands gripping his cane as he sized up the steam engine.
“Was there even a train back when you went to school?”
Arcturus’ eyes narrowed and Bella barked as his cane came down on her big toe.
Narcissa sighed. “I hoped for a better showing for the Black family's return to public life.”
“It seems that you just can't help yourselves.”
Anastasia, along with Primrose Parkinson and Betty Davis, walked over with their daughters in tow. Amelia arrived with Susan, and soon they were all gathered up in front of the train.
Harry noticed the looks he was receiving from Tracey and Pansy's mothers, and he wouldn't be opposed to spending some time with them. He was sure that he would have an opportunity to do just that during winter break.
Everyone said their goodbyes, including Harry and Penny sharing a hug with Tonks and Cassie.
Andi nudged Arcturus, who grumbled before digging into his endless bag and pulling out several lunchboxes.
“Grandfather, is this your cooking?” Darcia asked with wonder.
Arcturus mumbled something unintelligible.
“You really have become a softie, haven't you, old man.” Andi said. Everyone laughed as Arcturus glared at his granddaughter, though there a ghost of a smile threatened to form on his face.
The children hopped onto the train and the group waved their goodbyes as the steam engine pulled away from the station.
“Well, we should be going, Bella, staff meeting starts in fifteen.” Andromeda told her sister.
Bellatrix did not seem overly enthused about the meeting, but it was a small price to pay to be closer to her godson.
“Ah, what a pleasure to see you again!”
Apolline Delacour walked into view, looking otherworldly even in her simple powder blue robe.
“Apolline! I almost forgot you'd be here.” Narcissa said.
“Yes, well, I wish I would have spotted you earlier, it would have been good for Fleur to have been introduced to others that could help her get acclimated.”
Narcissa snapped her fingers. “Don't even think about it. If it doesn't happen on the train, I will write Darcia.”
Everyone was quickly introduced to Apolline before Andi and Bella finally apparated away for Hogwarts while Arcturus and Nym left for Chateau Black.
“Apolline, the ladies and I were going to have a spot of tea at Primrose's. Would you like to come along?”
Apolline smiled keenly at the ladies. “I would like that.”
…
“Alright, I've got a train full of witches who've gone all summer without their fix. So it might be a while before we get back.” Pansy said as she hoisted a satchel weighed down with fresh gobblers over her shoulder. Tracey tagged along with her girlfriend as the two girls left for the last compartment on the train, where there was a gaggle of witches already waiting with money in hand.
As the two girls slipped out, a trio of girls slipped in.
“Tory, you've made friends rather quickly.” Daphne said, though the lack of surprise in her tone was evident.
Astoria came flanked by a pair of equally fresh faced first years, one who seemed rather excited to be here, and one who looked like she was barely aware what ‘here’ was.
“Ginny, Luna, this is my sister and her friends.” Astoria introduced the two girls.
Ginny was immediately recognized as a Weasley. She had the bright orange hair and face full of freckles that could only come from that particular family. Luna, on the other hand, had blonde hair and light blue eyes and looked almost like a forest nymph, especially with the faraway look on her face.
“Hi!” Ginny squealed nervously, her eyes jumping between Darcia and Harry.
“Hello.” Luna waved at the whole group. “Will you really be my friends? For free?”
Everyone was taken aback by the girl's words, but Harry stood up and smiled at the diminutive blonde. “Of course we'll be your friends, Luna.”
“I want them to be a part of our team.” Astoria said in an authoritative tone that was comical coming from such a small girl.
“Our team?” Susan asked.
“Yeah, I mean…” Astoria pulled out her little medallion. “We're Harry's sirens, right?” She looked at Daphne expectantly.
Daphne palmed her face. “That was just a joke!”
“Yeah right.” Astoria scoffed. “This medallion says I’m a part of the team, and I want to bring them in.”
“Even if this was a thing.” Darcia stood from her seat, “It would have to be put up to a vote or something, wouldn't it?”
“Oh please!” Ginny walked up to Darcia, hands clasped together pleadingly. “I've been waiting for this moment forever!”
Hermione frowned. “You've been waiting for what… exactly?”
Ginny looked up at Darcia with big doe eyes. “I’m a Weasley, my family's owed yours a blood debt for centuries, it's why we're so poor. I want to repay the debt and restore my family's honor by becoming your slave.”
Everyone was stunned into silence, staring at the young redhead as if she'd grown another head.
Darcia's mouth fell open in shock, but her mind was quick to snap back with a decisive response.
“No.” She said firmly.
Ginny's face fell. “What? But why?”
“I'm not going to enslave you. Whatever blood feud our families have, I can talk to my mother and we can settle it amicably, we won't make any demands of you.”
Instead of looking relieved, the redhead looked even more distressed. “No! T-the only way to do it is to make me your slave!” Ginny fell to her knees in front of Darcia. “Please, I promise I'll be a good slave!”
Everyone shared uncomfortable looks as Darcia planted her feet. “I am not going to do that. I don't know everything about blood feuds, but my mother is the head of the family and I am the heiress, there is definitely a way for us to just end it.”
“Erm, how about this,” Susan said as tears began to well up in Ginny's eyes. “How about we give you a trial run, and if you're really good, Darcia will take you in as a slave.”
“Really?” Ginny asked in a hopeful tone.
“Absolutely-” Darcia yelped as Daphne pinched her from behind, giving her a pointed look that urged her to play along.
“I don't think being a slave would be very enjoyable for me, can i just be a friend?” Luna asked.
“Of course you can. Though, I don't think you should try and recruit any more ‘friends’ for us, Astoria.” Daphne sent her sister a glare, which the younger girl returned with an innocent look.
The three first years settled in to their compartment, with Ginny choosing to remain kneeling at a slightly uncomfortable Darcia's feet.
A few minutes of idle conversation passed as the second years answered the new year's questions about Hogwarts. Everyone settled into a comfortable atmosphere rather quickly, and that proved to be their undoing, because Susan forgot all about the new company as she brazenly unzipped Harry's pants and fished out his cock to stroke in full view of everyone.
“Susan!”
It was too late. Astoria smiled as Ginny and Luna's eyes went wide as saucers. The temperature in the room rose several degrees in an instant, as no one knew exactly where things would go from here.
Ginny looked absolutely mesmerized by what she saw, and Luna was licking her lips, staring at the large cockhead as she took deep, low breaths.
Astoria was the one who took the initiative, walking over to kneel between Harry's legs, “Let me show you girls how friendly we can be.” She closed her eyes and wrapped her lips around Harry's cockhead.
Ginny gasped, Luna whimpered, and the others decided that they might as well take the opportunity to let off some steam as their second year at Hogwarts began in earnest.
…
Fleur sat alone in her compartment. It had been an hour since the train had departed the station, and she still had no one to accompany her on this journey.
Perhaps the hateful glare she sent everyone's way when they passed through had something to do with it.
She knew what her current task was, of course. She needed to locate the enslaver, Darcia Malfoy, and ingratiate herself with the girl. She would need to be close to her to make it all the easier when it became time to kill her.
But Fleur was nervous. Not because of the little bitch, of course, but because of her king.
She was about to meet a god.
She'd spent the past hour hyping herself up, reminding herself about her duty, about the pure joy and euphoria that was sure to come when she completed her task. She could overcome some nerves, she could act a part in service of her king.
Once she'd managed to drum up the necessary grit, Fleur stood up and left her compartment in search of her quarry.
She walked down the train, ignoring the boys that fell over themselves to drool over her. She noticed that the girls were not sending her hateful looks, a sight that had been common at Beauxbatons due to witches that were jealous of the way Fleur commanded all the male attention. Here, the witches seemed to be preoccupied with something else.
“Holy shit! How did you buy so many?”
Lavender Brown smiled proudly as she cradled her large handfull of Go-Gobblers. “I saved up all summer for this. Plus, my mum chipped in with a few extra galleons as long as I owl her some.”
Fleur thought it quaint, how these british witches seemed to be so obsessed with those strange little gel-like balls. She continued on until she came upon one girl handing them out to first years.
“They'll change your life, I swear, give them a try.” She urged the two young girls who glanced at each other before shrugging and throwing them back.
Fleur could visibly she the thrill run up the girl's spines and the hairs on the back of their necks stand on end.
“Woah! That was amazing!” One of the girls said.
“Yeah, well, you'll have to save up and buy your own after this.” The older girl said. She made to move on when her eyes locked onto Fleur.
“Are you new? You're definitely not a first year.”
“I transferred.” Fleur answered shortly.
“Here. I'm feeling extra generous.” Before Fleur could deny her, the girl placed the little orb in Fleur's hand before leaving, along with the two first years, leaving Fleur alone in the passage.
Fleur glanced down at the little ball with disdain. What could possibly be so special about this little thing? Knowing the English, it was likely nothing more than some sugary snack that lacked any kind of depth of flavor.
Not really thinking much of it, Fleur tossed it into her mouth and bit down on it.
The moment the thick, gunky substance exploded into her mouth, her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Unknowingly mirroring her grandmother, Fleur collapsed to the floor, her cunt gushing forth with a tidal wave of juices as her nipples hardened to the point that the silky material of her bra felt rough against their points.
Fleur bit her lip as she struggled to remain conscious. She whimpered and gasped as her pussy cycled through orgasm after orgasm and she began to see colors in her vision. It was all she could do to press her mouth against her shoulder to stifle the loud moans that she could not hope to contain. Her legs twitched violently as her hips bucked with a life of their own, her pussy and clit burning up.
She was overwhelmed, she was short circuiting, she was not in control.
Fleur just barely managed to drag herself to a mercifully empty compartment. She closed the door, locked it and closed the blinds before finally succumbing to the ecstasy that was coursing through her body.
Comments
Zitronen tee
I think it's pretty much in character. Veela are monsters in the fic, the french are french and being both is a whole nother kette of fish. It works, kind of like the murder retard Ron in happy weasley family.
Pierrick Giannetti
I read many stories written by English people, you are the only one to be so relentless about this I think you are racist, you systematically write this way it is disappointing and petty
Lurk
Not that your criticisim isn't valid. I'll try to dial that back in the future
Lurk
When writing from the british perspective, there's going to be that animosity towards the french. When writing from the Delacour perspective, there's going to be a lot of elitism and superiority complex.
Pierrick Giannetti
I found it funny at first, your description of the French (I'm French) now I find it boring and misplaced
Erinnyes
Uh oh... Fleur did a big oopsie. 😁
