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The Veela’s Champion Chapter 6
🕑 Added 2025-03-12 20:25:25 +0000 UTCHe entered the tent to find all of the other Champions already there and waiting for the task to begin, each looking much worse off than before. Cedric gave him a slight smile when he entered, while Krum didn’t bother to acknowledge him. Fleur seemed to perk up at his presence, but the Beauxbatons Champion still looked more pallid than he had seen her before.
“You are nervous.” Fleur observed him as he got closer, voicing his exact thoughts.
“And you’re not?” He asked in return.
She sniffed, tilting her chin up. “Why would I be? I am Fleur Delacour.”
Harry snorted. “Right. How could I forget?”
“Exactly.” She nodded. “You should be grateful I am giving you my time, non? Most would kill to be in your position.”
“Lucky me.” Harry muttered, though he couldn’t stop the corner of his mouth from twitching up. It showed how far along his friendship with Fleur was that he could get along with her so easily. Sadly, before Fleur could say anything else, the tent flap flew open. A sharp scratch of a quill filled the air as the last person he wanted to see entered.
“Well, well, well.” Rita Skeeter drawled, stepping inside like she owned the place. Her quill was already scrawling across parchment, eager to twist whatever words were spoken next. Her gaze landed on Harry first, her lips curling into something resembling a smile. “Our brave, tragic young champion. What a story you’ve given us this year, Harry dear. Thrust into danger, abandoned by your peers—oh, I do hope you’re keeping your spirits up!”
In just a few words she managed to get under his skin and he silently seethed. The woman then turned her gaze over to Fleur. “But I suppose your fellow champion has that covered. Perhaps a little magic here and there, a flutter of the eyelashes, a bit of—what shall we call it?—allure to distract young Harry before the tournament?”
“Zat is enough.” Fleur hissed at the woman. “If you have come here to make up lies, you are wasting your time.”
“Lies?” Rita gasped theatrically, pressing a hand to her chest. “My dear, I simply report what I see. And what I see is a little romance blooming right before the first task. A distraction, perhaps? Or maybe a calculated move? Tell me, Ms. Delacour, do you think taking advantage of such a young champion will help you secure victory today?”
The tent flaps suddenly opened once again, and Dumbledore, Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Crouch, and Bagman all entered. The Hogwarts Headmaster’s gaze narrowed in on the woman.
“Miss Skeeter.” Dumbledore said, his tone calm but firm. “I will not have you harassing the Champions before the task begins. Kindly leave at once.”
Rita didn’t even have time to argue before Madame Maxime loomed over her. “Out.” The giantess said flatly.
With a huff and a flick of her green quill, Rita turned on her heel. “Fine, I suppose I’ll just have to continue my story elsewhere. But don’t worry, dears, I always get the truth in the end.”
Bagman then moved to the center of the group, and he carried a fabric bag of some sort. “Gather around, Champions! All you need to do now is stick your hand into the bag, and the rest will be explained from there.”
The bright-colored man didn’t seem to know how to read the room’s mood, as each of them cautiously made their over to him. He held the bag in Fleur’s direction. “Ladies first!”
She swallowed in worry and reached in, pulling out a miniature green dragon. Diggory and Krum went after her, each pulling out miniature dragons of their own. And finally it was Harry’s turn, and he reached in to pull out a miniature version of the intimidating spiked dragon he had seen in the forest. ‘The Hungarian Horntail.’
“Each of you has selected the dragons you will be facing in the task.” Said Mr. Crouch. “The task itself will be for you to retrieve a golden egg from your respective dragons’ nest, and from there leave the arena. Mr. Diggory, you will go first, followed by Mr. Krum, then Ms. Delacour, and finally Mr. Potter. At the sound of the cannon, it will be your turn to go.”
As if on command, the cannon boomed, and the man turned to Cedric. “It is now your turn, Mr. Diggory.”
The older Hufflepuff nodded shakily, and headed for the exit of the tent that led to the arena. The rest of the Champions all sat down as the judges left, with him and Fleur sitting together while Krum sat by himself.
They didn’t speak for some time, each of them caught up in their own thoughts and worries, until Fleur finally broke the silence.
“This wait is most irritating.” She looked at him expectantly, as if she was a little girl who wanted him to entertain her. “Tell me about your home, Harry.”
He sighed, not wanting to think about the Dursleys in a time like this. “There isn’t much to tell, honestly. I live with my aunt and her family, being her husband and my cousin Dudley. They’re muggles, and we live in a pretty normal neighborhood.”
Of all things to say, that seemed to perk her interest for some reason. “You’ll probably be surprised to know that I’ve barely spent any time around muggles.”
“Really?”
“Oui.” She nodded. “We, Veela, are a magical species. Many Veela never leave their covens, and if they do, then they usually only travel to magical areas.”
“Huh.” Harry wondered what his family’s reaction would be if Fleur visited him at Privet Drive. He could only imagine Dudley acting worse than Ron when it came to being affected by Fleur’s allure. ‘I wonder if muggles are affected by her allure at all?’
“I’m sure you can introduce me to them at some point. I’ll need to make a good impression if we’re going to be spending so much time together, after all.” Fleur said casually, and he nearly choked.
The cannon blast sounded then, catching both of them off guard, and Harry watched as Krum stood stiffly and exited the tent. It left just the two of them alone, the mood once again awkward and stifling, and Harry longed to keep the conversation with Fleur going.
She seemed to be of similar mind, and looked at him then. “How about a wager?”
“A… wager?” He asked hesitantly, not sure where this was going.
Fleur nodded. “Oui, ze one who gets more points in this task than ze other wins.”
“Sounds fair.” Harry agreed, even though he didn’t particularly care about doing well in the tournament. “What are the stakes?”
Fleur placed a finger on her lip, contemplating. “If I win, you have to accompany me on a date to ze village.”
“A date?” Harry asked in shock, genuinely puzzled by the answer. Before he could form a coherent response, his mouth decided to move on its own. “Why make us going on a date part of the wager? Are you worried I would ask someone else out?”
She looked momentarily shocked by his words, before she quickly recovered. Fleur’s gaze seemed to narrow in on him like a predator, almost as if he was her prey.
“You cannot trick me with your words any longer, Harry, I know that you desire me. And if you think that any other girl can compare to Fleur Delacour, then you are ze fool.” She sniffed arrogantly. “You think any woman will be able to please you like me? Non. No leetle’ girl will be able to match me. Whether that be on your arm, or in ze bed.”
She finished with a seductive whisper, a smug smirk on her lips. Her words were meant to tease, to infuriate, but Harry could do nothing to contest them. He knew that she was speaking the truth, and that no girl he had even met could compare to her.
And Fleur wanted to cement that fact, as she continued on. “So go ahead, try and find someone who will match me. Even go and ask another girl out, but by the end of it all you will come crawling back to Fleur Delacour.”
And there it was. That smug, condescending, confidence that she seemed to exude. And yet he couldn’t help but find it so damn attractive.
He gulped. “And if I win?”
“On ze slim chance that you do win,” Fleur leaned in close to his side, and he could feel her warm breath against his ear. “I’ll do anything you want.”
His cock twitched in his trousers, and before he could say anything more the cannon boomed, signaling Fleur to go. She gave him a suggestive wink, swaying her hips seductively as she exited the tent.
Her exit had been timed perfectly, or terribly if one was to look at it a certain way. It left Harry distracted, no longer worried about the upcoming task, which was great. But on the other hand, his teenage mind was running through all kinds of explicit scenarios in case he did score better than Fleur in the upcoming task.
When the cannon eventually boomed and it was his turn, Harry exited the tent and made his way down a flight of stairs and into a tunnel that led to the arena. He managed to get his wild thoughts under control as he walked, feeling his nerves fraying and hairs beginning to stand up in worry.
He just knew the second he left the tunnel and entered the arena that something would go wrong. So as he neared the end of the tunnel, and the entrance to the arena, he preemptively equipped his wand.
“Expecto Patronum.”
A bright, glowing stag left his wand, and it led the way out of the tunnel and into the arena. It took only a few steps out into the open before a tail full of wicked spikes came violently crashing down on it.
He squinted as rocks and dust were kicked up by the impact, and watched as his patronus dashed away and ran towards the other side of the arena. The Hungarian Horntail roared at the deer, exiting its hiding spot above the champion’s entrance as it charged after the glowing stag.
That gave Harry the needed opportunity to enter the arena safely, and he observed the massive dragon for only a moment before he narrowed in on his objective. The dragon’s nest resided on the other side of the rocky arena, a clump of eggs surrounding one large golden egg that was his goal.
“Accio Hungarian Horntail egg.” He twirled his wand, trying to summon the egg, and when that didn’t work he tried again. “Accio Golden egg.”
Nothing happened, and he felt his eyes narrow in annoyance. It was mildly infuriating the judges had cast anti-summoning charms on the egg, but Harry just knew he wouldn’t get that lucky. A quick glance revealed the dragon was still distracted by his patronus, and Harry took advantage of the situation and sprinted across the arena, headed directly for the dragon’s nest.
He was out in the open now, completely exposed for both the crowd to see as well as the Hungarian Horntail to turn around and attack. Luckily, the dragon was still distracted, and Harry continued his mad dash across the arena towards its nest. The crowd was yelling his name and cheering, and he didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing.
He sprinted up a slope of jagged rocks and climbed over a large boulder to reach the dragon’s nest, before he finally reached out and took hold of the golden egg. The crowd was growing hysterical at this point, and Harry let his lips curl up in a smile. But that was when the Hungarian Horntail finally noticed him, and the beast turned around before letting out a fierce roar in his direction.
He jumped off his place high up by the dragon’s nest, and slid down to the arena’s floor. The task’s exit was halfway to the other side of the arena, meaning he wouldn’t have enough time to slip out before the dragon got hold of him.
‘Looks like I’ll have to fight my way out of here.’ Harry readied himself, coming out from behind a large rock to see the dragon headed his way.
The dragon opened its mouth wide then, and a wall of dragonfire poured across the arena towards him. He raised his wand in the direction of the fire, spinning it in a circle. “Protego!”
He had used the same spell just recently against Ron and Malfoy’s ambush, and now he was using it against a dragon. It was an advanced spell taught to older years in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Harry knew it would be useful to learn for the tournament. That said, he didn’t expect to use it against dragonfire of all things.
The fire smashed against his conjured shield, and he felt himself get pushed back momentarily. The glowing shield cracked and tore off at the edges, and Harry could feel his robes get slightly singed. He poured more magic into the spell, pushing the glowing shield outwards and against the dragon’s flame as he felt himself begin to sweat with exertion.
When the flames ended, he nearly doubled over due to both relief at not being fried, as well as the sudden feeling of exhaustion. Sadly, the same could not be said for the Hungarian Horntail, as the dragon looked even more incensed than before.
‘I need to distract it.’ He thought, feeling overwhelmed by the creature’s power. Like Hermione had said, it would take teams of wizards to subdue such a creature, and he was better off getting the beast’s attention away from himself than actively fighting it.
He thought back to his fight against Ron and Malfoy once again for some reason, and a plan began to take shape in his head. He pointed his wand at the dragon’s head. “Serpensortia.”
A nasty rattlesnake landed on the dragon’s head, coincidentally right next to its eye. The snake hissed and bit the beast’s eye, and the dragon roared in rage. He watched as the dragon moved its claw and swatted the snake away, but by then Harry was already moving his wand to conjure more snakes.
“Serpensortia. Serpensortia. Serpensortia!”
Pythons and snakes of all different sizes sailed from his wand and landed on the dragon, as the Hungarian Horntail shook and spun in an effort to deal with them. Harry didn’t wait this time, and dashed straight for the exit to the arena.
“Filthy flying serpent.” He heard one snake hiss from its spot on the dragon’s back, and he let out a laugh.
The arena’s exit led directly to another tunnel, this one connected to the medical tent where Madam Pomfrey was overseeing the champions. At his entrance, she marched right up to him and looked him over without wasting a moment.
“Well, you don’t look too beat-up this time, Potter.” She muttered, patting part of his uniform that was singed by dragonflame. “I ought to hand it to you for facing a dragon of all things. Any injuries I should know about?”
“Just tired, Madam Pomfrey.” He sighed, greatful that he wouldn’t have to spend more time in the hospital wing.
“That is to be expected after facing a dragon.” She sniffed in distaste. “And I’d love to know whose idea that was.”
She left him to go check on the other champions, and Harry looked on to see that Cedric was covered in all sorts of different bandages. Krum wasn’t nearly as injured, but the quidditch star looked worse for wear, with a couple of nasty bruises covering his form. The last champion, of course, looked completely untouched.
“I can only assume your plan worked.” Fleur looked him over, eyeing parts of his uniform that were torn and singed. “Partially.”
“I guess you could say that-”
“Harry!” A little girl’s shout interrupted him, and Fleur’s sister, Gabrielle, came running towards him. She excitedly jumped up and down and began speaking in rapid-fire French. He didn’t understand what she was saying, but clearly the girl was excited about his performance in the task.
Laughter got his attention, and he looked up to see Fleur and another girl from Beauxbatons giggling at the scene. Fleur said a few words to her sister in French, and Gabrielle nodded before leaving.
“Sorry about her, she’s just excited about everything.” Fleur said to him.
“What did you tell her?”
“I said to go find our parents.” She said, before gesturing at her friend. “Harry, this is my friend Aimee. Aimee, this is-”
“Harry Potter, of course.” Fleur’s friend, a beautiful brunette girl wearing a Beauxbatons uniform eyed him, a teasing smirk on her lips. “This is ze one you let sleep in your bed?”
Harry sputtered. “What? I-well, no-”
“Don’t mind her, Harry.” Fleur cut him off, as if this was ruitine. But he couldn’t help but notice she too had red spots on her cheeks. “She just likes to get under my skin.”
“You act as if this is not a big deal, non?” Aimee gave Fleur a teasing look. “Yet you just sent your parents away before he arrived.”
“Sadly, your attempts to goad me won’t work. Now come, Harry, we need to see what your score is.” Fleur smirked as she led him out of the tent and towards the arena. “I’d like to see who won our wager, after all.”
He swallowed thickly, having completely forgotten about that. They made their way to the edge of the stands as watched the judge’s deliberations.
Crouch was the first one to go, raising his wand first from the judge’s table, and a ten shot into the air. After that came Bagman and then Dumbledore, who both also gave him a ten. The crowd was roaring with approval at this point, and Harry watched as Madame Maxime gave him an eight, followed by Karkaroff who gave his performance a six.
“Forty-four.” He blinked, then looked at Fleur expectantly.
‘Anything you want.’ He remembered her words from earlier, feeling his hormones racing in anticipation.
“Congratulations.” She smiled, then her lips curled upwards to make it more of a smug smirk. “I got forty-six.”
A/N: I know this story has been a bit slow, but Harry and Fleur’s relationship will start up soon. Also, there was a hint in this chapter about the Dursleys, as I’d like for Fleur to meet them at some point.
Comments
Chris Marino
I really enjoy this story, I personally think it's going at a good clip. I can't wait till the next chapter ans see we're our heros go on there date
Elias
I cannot wait to see Fleur react to the true extent of his relationship with the Dursleys
