Hello, Drinor here. I'm happy to publish a new Chapter of Harry Potter and The Force of Magic
If you want to Read 13 More Chapters Right Now. Search 'Patreon.com/Drinor' on Websearch
The Following 13 Chapters are already available for Patrons.
Chapter 39, Chapter 40, Chapter 41, Chapter 42, Chapter 43, Chapter 44, Chapter 45, Chapter 46, Chapter 47, Chapter 48, Chapter 49, Chapter 50, and Chapter 51 are already available for Patrons.
"I believe you were going to show me zis famous room, Professor Potter," Fleur purred, her French accent thickening as she pressed herself closer to his side.
The title made Harry's cheeks flush. "You know, when you say it like that, it sounds even more ridiculous than when the others do."
"Non," Fleur disagreed with a musical laugh. "When I say it, it is... how do you say... sexy." She emphasized the last word with a light squeeze of his hand.
Harry swallowed hard. "You think so?"
"Mmm," she hummed affirmatively. "A powerful young wizard teaching others to defend themselves? Taking charge and showing such... command?" Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief. "Very sexy indeed."
They turned a corner, passing a group of younger Hufflepuffs who gaped openly at the sight of Harry Potter hand-in-hand with the breathtaking Beauxbatons witch. Harry heard their excited whispers erupt the moment they thought they were out of earshot.
"I think you've just created a new wave of gossip," Harry commented wryly.
"Good," Fleur replied without hesitation. "Let zem talk. I want everyone to know zat ze famous Professor Potter is... occupied." She pressed her body against his side more firmly, the soft curve of her breast brushing his arm.
Harry's body responded immediately to her proximity, and he silently thanked Merlin for the concealing drape of his robes. As they climbed the grand staircase, he found himself wondering how he'd gotten so lucky. First Hermione, then Tonks, and now Fleur – all extraordinary witches who, for reasons he couldn't fully comprehend, seemed genuinely interested in him.
"You are thinking very hard," Fleur observed, watching his face with curious intensity. "What troubles you?"
Harry hesitated, then decided honesty was best. "I was just thinking about... well, about us. And about Hermione and Tonks."
"Ah," Fleur nodded in understanding. "You worry perhaps zat I do not know about your... arrangement? Or zat I would be opposed?"
"Well, yeah. Most people wouldn't exactly be thrilled about sharing."
Fleur's laugh echoed in the empty corridor, bright and uninhibited. "Oh, 'Arry. You forget zat I am part Veela. Our approach to love and desire is... more fluid zan most humans. Besides," she added with a wink, "I 'ave already discussed zis with 'Ermione in our letters."
Harry nearly missed a step. "You what? You and Hermione talked about... about me?"
"But of course! Did you think we only discussed academics? Non, she told me all about your relationship with her and with ze metamorphmagus. I found it quite... intriguing." Her fingertips traced a delicate pattern on his arm. "In fact, I look forward to meeting zis Tonks properly. 'Ermione speaks very highly of her... talents."
Harry's mind reeled at the implications. "So you're not... jealous?"
"Of what? Zat you 'ave enough love to share?" Fleur shook her head. "I find it refreshing. Most men try to possess, to own. You simply appreciate each woman for herself, non? Besides," she added with a sly smile, "perhaps someday we might all... how do you say... play together?"
The mental image that flashed through Harry's mind was so vivid and explicit that he actually stumbled, causing Fleur to giggle delightedly at his reaction.
"You are adorable when you blush, 'Arry Potter."
They had reached the sixth floor now, and Harry was struggling to maintain any semblance of coherent thought with Fleur pressed against him, her intoxicating scent filling his senses. She smelled of vanilla and something distinctly floral – lilies, perhaps, with an underlying musk that seemed to trigger something primal in his brain.
"So," Fleur continued conversationally, as though she hadn't just short-circuited his mental faculties, "tell me about zis mysterious room we are going to. Is it where you train your little army?"
Harry nodded, grateful for the slight change of subject. "The Room of Requirement. It becomes whatever you need it to be. Need a place to practice dueling? It gives you that. Need a place to hide something? It transforms. It's... well, it's magic, obviously, but special even by Hogwarts standards."
"And what will you require of it tonight, 'Arry?" Fleur's voice dropped to a whisper as they reached the seventh floor.
Her words sent a shiver down his spine. "What do you want it to be?" he asked.
Fleur's eyes darkened. "I want somewhere private. Somewhere we can be... ourselves. Somewhere I can finally discover if ze Boy Who Lived lives up to his reputation in... all areas."
The heat in her gaze made Harry's mouth go dry. Ever since his Holy Magic had awakened after the basilisk venom destroyed the Horcrux within him, he'd found himself growing more confident, more assertive. Sirius had suggested it was simply part of coming into his power, but moments like this – with a gorgeous woman looking at him like he was something to be devoured – still caught him off guard.
"I think that can be arranged," he replied, his voice deeper than usual.
They paused at the top of the staircase, and Fleur suddenly pressed him against the wall, her body flush against his. "You've changed since ze World Cup," she murmured, her breath warm against his lips. "Zere is something different about you... something more... powerful."
Harry felt a momentary panic – had she somehow sensed his Holy Magic? But her next words dispelled his fear.
"I like it," she continued, trailing a finger along his jawline. "Ze way you carry yourself. Ze way your students look at you with such respect. Ze way your magic feels when you're near me."
Her lips brushed his in a feather-light tease. "It makes me wonder what else has... grown since I last saw you."
Harry's entire body felt electrified. The hallway was mercifully empty, but anyone could come along at any moment. The thought should have made him pull away, but instead, it only heightened the tension coiling tightly in his stomach.
"Why don't we find out?" he replied. "The Room is just down this corridor."
Fleur stepped back, her chest rising and falling more rapidly than before. "Lead ze way, Professor."
They walked the final stretch in charged silence. When they reached the blank wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, Harry released her hand.
"You have to pace back and forth three times, thinking about what you need," he explained.
"And what exactly will you be thinking about, 'Arry?" Fleur asked, a knowing smile playing on her perfect lips.
Harry held her gaze steadily. "About how much I want to be alone with you. About how I've thought about you every day since the World Cup." He paused, then added with newfound boldness, "About all the things I want to do with you tonight."
Fleur's breath caught audibly. "Then I suggest you start pacing, Professor, before I decide ze corridor floor will do just fine."
The raw desire in her voice sent a jolt straight to Harry's groin. He turned quickly and began to pace, focusing his thoughts on exactly what they needed.
A place where Fleur and I can be alone. Somewhere beautiful and private. Somewhere we can explore each other without interruption.
On his third pass, the familiar door materialized in the previously blank wall. With a grin, he turned to Fleur, whose eyes had widened in delight.
"Shall we?" he asked, extending his hand.
Fleur licked her lips. "Oh yes, 'Arry. I believe we shall."
The door swung open silently at Harry's touch, revealing a space so perfect that even he was momentarily stunned. The Room of Requirement had outdone itself, creating an intimate paradise that somehow blended Hogwarts elegance with distinctly French touches.
A crackling fire cast a warm glow across the space from an ornate marble fireplace. Plush furniture was arranged in a semicircle before it – a sumptuous sofa in deep burgundy velvet and two matching armchairs. Crystal glasses and a decanter of something amber-colored sat on a low table, while magical candles floated at different heights throughout the room, their flames steady despite the absence of wax.
Beyond this cozy sitting area, partially concealed by gauzy curtains of midnight blue, Harry could glimpse what was unmistakably a bedroom area dominated by an enormous four-poster bed with silken sheets.
"You thought of all zis?" Fleur asked softly, her eyes taking in every detail of the luxurious space.
Harry shook his head. "The room decides the specifics. I just focused on what we needed – privacy, comfort..." He trailed off, suddenly feeling inexplicably shy despite his earlier boldness.
"And beauty," Fleur finished for him, stepping further into the room. "It is perfect, 'Arry."
She walked to the fireplace, her silvery-blonde hair shimmering in the firelight as she examined the intricate carvings on the mantelpiece. Harry closed the door behind him, feeling it seal with a subtle magical click that assured their complete privacy.
"Is that French?" he asked, noticing the scrolling text carved into the stone.
Fleur nodded, a soft smile playing on her lips. "It says 'Dans chaque désir est caché un secret.' In each desire hides a secret." She turned to face him, leaning elegantly against the mantel. "What secrets do your desires hide, 'Arry Potter?"
Harry moved toward her, drawn by an invisible force he couldn't have resisted even if he'd wanted to.
"I'm not sure I have many secrets left," he said honestly. "Not from you."
"Non?" Fleur arched a perfect eyebrow. "Then perhaps you can explain why your eyes sometimes flash gold when you cast certain spells? Or why your magic feels... different from others?"
Harry froze, his heart suddenly hammering against his ribs. "You... you noticed that?"
"Of course," she replied simply. "I am part Veela. We are sensitive to magical signatures, and yours..." She pushed away from the mantel and closed the distance between them, placing a delicate hand on his chest directly over his heart. "Yours is extraordinary."
Harry swallowed hard, wondering how much to reveal. Only Dumbledore and Sirius knew about his Holy Magic. It was his secret advantage, his hidden weapon against Voldemort.
Harry didn't like to lie and hold secrets, but Holy Magic was something that belonged to House Potter. The only reason Dumbledore knew about it was because Arthur Potter had told him about it decades ago, at least according to Dumbledore. Sirius knew about it because he had been there when Harry, even before he was one year old, had accidentally used it, and James Potter had explained to Sirius what had happened.
As for Fleur, while Harry would be a liar to say that he did not trust her, they had exchanged many letters during the summer, and he had protected her during the Quidditch Cup. He found her company quite pleasant, but he still wanted to keep Holy Magic a secret, so instead, he said, "My magic is different, Fleur."
Fleur seemed to understand that he would not say more than that. "I knew it. From ze moment I saw you fighting those Death Eaters, I knew your power was... special." Her hand remained on his chest, and he could swear she was feeling the very pulse of his magic beneath her palm. "It is why my Veela allure does not affect you, non?"
"Your allure?" Harry repeated.
Fleur's musical laugh filled the room. "Surely you've noticed how most men react to me? How they stare and stumble over their words? How they practically drool?" She rolled her eyes. "It is the Veela blood. We emit an... attraction magic that most wizards cannot resist."
"But I don't feel anything like that," Harry said slowly, realizing the truth of it. Yes, he found Fleur stunningly beautiful and desirable, but he wasn't reduced to a babbling idiot in her presence like Ron and so many others.
"Exactement," Fleur nodded, looking pleased. "Your magic is too powerful, too... pure to be influenced by such things. You see me, 'Arry. Not just the Veela, but me." Her expression softened. "Do you know how rare that is? To be truly seen?"
Something in her vulnerability touched Harry deeply. Without thinking, he raised his hand to cup her cheek, marveling at the silken texture of her skin beneath his fingers.
"I do know," he said quietly. "Before Hogwarts, before I knew I was a wizard, nobody saw me at all. I was invisible. And then after... well, everyone saw The Boy Who Lived, not just Harry."
Fleur turned her face slightly to press a kiss into his palm. "Then we understand each other, non?" She stepped closer still, their bodies nearly touching. "The Veela and the Boy Who Lived, both wanting to be seen for who we truly are."
"I want to see all of you, Fleur," he admitted, his voice low and rough with want.
Her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling more rapidly. "Then look, 'Arry," she whispered. "I am right here."
That was all the invitation he needed. Harry closed the final distance between them, his lips finding hers in a kiss that started gentle but quickly blazed into something far more urgent. Fleur's mouth opened beneath his, her tongue seeking his own in a dance that sent liquid fire coursing through his veins.
Her arms wound around his neck, fingers threading through his perpetually messy hair as she pressed herself against him. The soft curves of her body fitted perfectly to his harder planes, and when she made a small, needy sound in the back of her throat, Harry felt something awaken within him.
His hands moved to her waist, then lower, cupping the perfect roundness of her backside and pulling her more firmly against him. Fleur gasped into his mouth as she felt the hard evidence of his desire pressing against her abdomen.
"Mon Dieu, 'Arry," she breathed when they finally broke apart, her blue eyes dark with want. "You kiss like you duel."
Harry smiled, feeling a surge of confidence at her reaction. "I've had some practice lately."
"Show me what else you've practiced," she challenged, her hands moving to the front of his robes.
Their lips met again, hungrier this time. Harry's hands roamed more boldly across her body, tracing the elegant curve of her spine, the delicate slope of her shoulders, the swell of her breasts through her uniform. Fleur was equally exploratory, her nimble fingers working to loosen his tie and unbutton his collar.
"Ze couch," she suggested breathlessly between kisses. "Before my legs give out entirely."
Harry needed no further encouragement. Taking her hand, he led her to the plush sofa before the fire. Fleur sank onto it, then tugged him down beside her, immediately crawling onto his lap to straddle him.
The new position brought them into exquisite alignment, the heat of her core pressed directly against his straining erection even through their clothing. Harry groaned at the contact, his hands instinctively grasping her hips.
"You feel so good," he murmured against her neck, inhaling her intoxicating scent.
"And we are still wearing far too many clothes," Fleur complained, her fingers working more buttons free on his shirt. "Though perhaps... not all at once, non? The anticipation is... delicious."
He helped her remove his tie completely, then shrugged out of his outer robes while she did the same, leaving them both in their shirts and lower garments.
Fleur sat back slightly on his lap, her gaze appreciative.
"You have been taking care of yourself," she approved, running her hands over his shoulders. "Very nice indeed."
"Your turn," Harry said, his voice husky with desire. His fingers found the top button of her blouse, seeking permission with his eyes.
Fleur's answer was to arch her back slightly, pushing her chest forward in obvious invitation. Harry began to unbutton her blouse with deliberate slowness, revealing tantalizing glimpses of creamy skin and the pale blue lace of her bra beneath. When he reached the final button, Fleur shrugged the garment off her shoulders, letting it slide down her arms and onto the floor.
Harry's breath caught in his throat. The sight of Fleur Delacour in just her bra, straddling his lap with her silver-blonde hair cascading around her shoulders, was more beautiful than any fantasy he could have conjured. The blue lace hugged the generous curves of her breasts, the material so delicate he could see the darker circles of her nipples pressing against it.
"You are staring, 'Arry," Fleur teased, though she looked pleased by his obvious appreciation.
"You're stunning," he replied honestly. "The most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
A soft blush colored her cheeks at his sincerity. "Sweet talker," she murmured, leaning forward to capture his lips again. As they kissed, Harry's hands explored the newly exposed skin of her back and shoulders, tracing patterns that made her shiver with pleasure.
When his fingertips brushed the clasp of her bra, Fleur made an encouraging sound against his lips. Harry needed no further invitation. With a deftness that surprised even him, he unhooked the delicate garment. Fleur leaned back just enough to let it fall away, and Harry felt his mouth go dry at the sight now before him.
Her breasts were perfect – full and round with pale pink nipples that had hardened into tight buds in the cool air of the room. They were larger than he'd imagined, yet still perfectly proportioned to her slender frame.
"Touch me, 'Arry," Fleur whispered, taking his hands and guiding them to her chest. "I 'ave dreamed of your hands on me since ze World Cup."
The weight of her breasts in his palms felt incredible – soft yet firm, warm and impossibly smooth. Harry caressed them reverently, his thumbs brushing across her nipples and drawing a soft gasp from Fleur's lips. Encouraged by her reaction, he leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on the swell of one breast, then another slightly lower, working his way toward the sensitive peak.
When his lips finally closed around her nipple, Fleur's back arched sharply, a breathless "Oh!" escaping her. Her fingers threaded through his hair, holding him against her as he suckled and teased with his tongue. Harry lavished attention on one breast before moving to the other, learning quickly what made her breathing quicken and what drew those delicious little moans from her throat.
"Mon Dieu," she gasped as he grazed her nipple lightly with his teeth. "You are – ah! – very good at zat."
Harry smiled against her skin, emboldened by her praise. His hands slid to her waist, then lower, finding the hem of her skirt and pushing it upward to reveal more of her gorgeous legs. Fleur shifted to accommodate him, the movement creating a delicious friction against his still-clothed erection.
"Perhaps," Fleur suggested, her voice husky with desire, "we should move zis to ze bed? Where we can be more... comfortable?"
Harry looked toward the gauzy curtains that partially concealed the bedroom area, his pulse quickening at the thought of what awaited them there. "Are you sure? We don't have to rush anything."
Fleur's smile was both tender and sultry. "Mon cher, I 'ave been sure since you saved me and Gabrielle. Some things are worth waiting for, but I do not think either of us wishes to wait any longer. Non?"
Harry couldn't argue with that logic. With a strength that surprised her – judging by her delighted squeal – he stood from the couch with Fleur still in his arms, her legs wrapping automatically around his waist. The position pressed her bare chest against his partially unbuttoned shirt, sending jolts of pleasure through them both.
"Show me to ze bedroom, Professor Potter," Fleur purred against his ear, nipping the lobe gently. "I believe we 'ave much to teach each other tonight."
Harry carried Fleur through the gauzy curtains, the silken material brushing against them like a cool caress before parting to reveal the bedroom beyond. The massive four-poster bed dominated the space, its midnight blue silk sheets turned down invitingly. More floating candles provided soft, flattering light, while a ceiling enchanted to mimic the night sky completed the romantic atmosphere.
"The room thinks of everything," Harry murmured, gently laying Fleur on the bed.
She looked absolutely breathtaking against the dark sheets – her silver-blonde hair fanning out around her head like a halo, her porcelain skin practically glowing in the candlelight, her bare breasts rising and falling with each quickened breath. Her skirt had ridden up during their journey to the bed, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of pale blue lace that matched her discarded bra.
"You are wearing too many clothes still," Fleur observed, propping herself up on her elbows and fixing him with a heated gaze. "I want to see all of you, 'Arry."
Harry finished unbuttoning his shirt and slipped it off his shoulders. Fleur's appreciative gaze traveled over his lean torso, taking in the defined muscles of his chest and abdomen – the result of intense physical training with Sirius over the summer.
"Very nice," she approved, licking her lips. "But zat is not all, non?"
Harry's fingers moved to his belt, unfastening it with deliberate slowness. He unzipped his trousers and pushed them down his legs, stepping out of them to stand before her in just his boxers. The fabric did little to conceal his sizeable erection, and Fleur's eyes widened slightly as they fixed on the obvious bulge.
"Come here," she beckoned, her voice a seductive purr.
Harry moved to the edge of the bed, and Fleur reached for him, her delicate fingers tracing the elastic waistband of his boxers. "May I?" she asked, looking up at him through thick lashes.
"Please," Harry managed, his voice rough with desire.
With tantalizing slowness, Fleur slid his boxers down his hips, gasping softly as his cock sprang free – fully erect and impressively sized. "Mon Dieu," she whispered, wrapping her fingers around his shaft and drawing a groan from deep in his chest. "You are... magnifique."
Her touch was exquisite – her hand cool against his heated flesh as she stroked him experimentally, learning what made his breath catch and his muscles tense. "Do you like zis?" she asked, her thumb circling the sensitive head of his cock where a bead of moisture had already formed.
"God, yes," Harry breathed, his hips instinctively pushing forward into her touch.
Fleur smiled, clearly pleased by his reaction. "Then you will like zis even more." Before he could process her meaning, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the tip of his erection, her tongue darting out to taste him.
"Fleur," he gasped, one hand moving to tangle in her silky hair.
She looked up at him, her blue eyes dark with desire. "Lie down, 'Arry. Let me show you what a Veela can do."
Harry was more than happy to comply, moving to stretch out on the bed. Fleur rose gracefully, standing beside the bed to remove her remaining clothing. She slid her skirt down her slender hips with deliberate slowness, revealing the matching blue lace panties beneath. When she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of those final scraps of fabric, Harry found himself holding his breath in anticipation.
The panties joined the rest of their discarded clothing on the floor, and Fleur stood before him completely nude – a vision of feminine perfection that made his cock twitch with renewed urgency. Her body was a study in elegant curves – from her full breasts to her narrow waist, the flare of her hips, and the long, toned legs that seemed to go on forever. A neatly trimmed patch of silver-blonde curls at the apex of her thighs did little to hide the pink lips of her sex, already glistening with obvious arousal.
"You are even more beautiful than I imagined," Harry said softly, drinking in the sight of her.
Fleur's smile was both shy and seductive. "And 'ow often did you imagine me, 'Arry?"
"Every night since the World Cup," he admitted honestly.
Her delighted laugh sent a rush of warmth through his chest. "Good. I thought of you too." She crawled onto the bed with feline grace, moving to straddle him once more, but this time with nothing between them but air. The heat of her core hovering just above his erection was exquisite torture. "Would you like to know what I imagined?"
"Tell me," Harry urged, his hands moving to caress her thighs.
Fleur leaned down until her lips brushed his ear. "I imagined your mouth on me," she whispered. "Everywhere. I imagined those beautiful green eyes looking up at me while you tasted me."
The vision her words conjured made Harry's cock throb with need. "I'd like that very much," he replied, his voice husky.
"Would you?" Fleur pulled back to look at him, her expression curious and aroused. "Some men, they do not enjoy such things."
"Then they're idiots," Harry said firmly, surprising a laugh out of her. With a smooth movement that clearly caught her off guard, he rolled them so that she was beneath him, her silver hair spread across the pillow. "I've wanted to taste you since the moment I saw you."
Fleur's eyes darkened further, her lips parting in anticipation. "Then do not make me wait any longer, 'Arry. Please."
Harry began his exploration with her lips, kissing her deeply and thoroughly before moving to her jaw, then the sensitive spot just below her ear that made her gasp when he nipped it lightly. He took his time working his way down her neck, across her collarbone, and to her breasts, where he lavished attention on each perfect mound.
Fleur was wonderfully responsive, arching into his touch and vocalizing her pleasure without restraint. Each gasp and moan guided him, teaching him what she liked best. When he sucked firmly on one nipple while rolling the other between his fingers, she cried out his name, her nails digging into his shoulders.
"More," she demanded breathlessly. "Lower, s'il te plaît."
Harry was more than happy to oblige. He continued his journey downward, trailing kisses across her flat stomach, dipping his tongue into her navel, and following the subtle definition of her hip bones. He settled between her legs, pushing her thighs gently apart to reveal her most intimate place.
She was exquisite here too – pink and glistening with arousal, her clit visibly swollen with need. Harry took a moment just to look at her, his breath washing over her sensitive flesh and making her squirm in anticipation.
"'Arry," she whimpered, her accent thicker with desire. "Do not tease."
With a smile, Harry lowered his mouth to her center, starting with a gentle, exploratory lick along her entire length. The taste of her – tangy and sweet and uniquely Fleur – was intoxicating. He groaned against her flesh, the vibration making her gasp and her hips buck upward.
Drawing on his experiences with Hermione and Tonks, Harry set about pleasuring Fleur with dedicated enthusiasm. He circled her clit with his tongue, alternating between broad strokes and more focused attention, learning quickly what drew the loudest moans from her throat. When he slipped a finger inside her, finding her incredibly wet and tight, Fleur practically sobbed with pleasure.
"Just like zat," she encouraged, one hand moving to tangle in his hair while the other clutched at the sheets. "Oh Dieu, yes, right there!"
Harry added a second finger, curling them to find that spot inside her that made her thighs tremble. His tongue never ceased its attention to her clit, now focusing on the direct, firm pressure he'd discovered she preferred. Fleur's breathing grew increasingly ragged, her moans higher and more desperate as he built her toward her peak.
"'Arry, 'Arry," she chanted, her body tensing beneath him. "I'm going to – oh! Oh mon Dieu, I'm coming!"
Her inner walls clamped down on his fingers as her orgasm crashed through her. Harry continued his ministrations, gentler now but persistent, drawing out her pleasure until she was trembling and pulling weakly at his hair.
"Enough, enough," she gasped, tugging him upward. "Come here."
Harry moved up her body, loving the flushed, satisfied look on her face and the knowledge that he had put it there. Fleur pulled him down for a passionate kiss, apparently unbothered by tasting herself on his lips.
"You," she declared when they broke apart, "are magnificent at that. Where did you learn such skill?"
Harry grinned, feeling a surge of pride at her praise. "I pay attention to what my partners like."
"Lucky witches," Fleur murmured, her hand sliding between their bodies to wrap around his still-hard cock. "But now I think it is your turn, non?"
Before Harry could respond, Fleur had rolled them over, reversing their positions with surprising strength. She kissed her way down his chest, paying special attention to the sensitive spots she discovered – the hollow of his throat, the plane of his stomach just above his navel, the jut of his hip bones.
When she reached his erection, she looked up at him with mischief dancing in her eyes. "Veelas are creatures of pleasure, Arry. I want to hear you moan my name."
Any clever response Harry might have formed died on his lips as Fleur took him into her mouth. The wet heat engulfing him drew a strangled groan from his throat, his hips instinctively pushing upward. Fleur accommodated him easily, taking him deeper than he would have thought possible.
"Fleur..." Harry moaned her name, and Fleur hummed around his cock, clearly pleased that she could bring him so much pleasure.
Her technique was incredible – a combination of firm suction, clever tongue work, and the perfect amount of pressure from her hand wrapped around the base of his shaft. She worked him with obvious enjoyment, humming around his length in a way that sent vibrations shooting through his entire body.
"Fleur," he gasped after several minutes of this exquisite torture, "you need to stop or I'm going to–"
She released him with a final, lingering lick. "Not yet," she agreed, crawling back up his body. "I want you inside me when you come."
The words sent a fresh surge of blood to his already throbbing cock. Fleur straddled him again, positioning herself directly above his erection. She reached between them to guide him to her entrance, the head of his cock pressing against her slick heat.
"Are you sure?" Harry asked, his hands moving to her hips but not yet pulling her down.
Fleur's smile was tender despite the lust darkening her eyes. "I 'ave never been more certain of anything, 'Arry Potter."
With that, she began to lower herself onto him, taking him inch by delicious inch. The sensation was indescribable – tight, wet heat engulfing him in a velvet grip. Fleur's face was a study in pleasure, her lips parted and her eyes half-closed as she adjusted to his size.
"Mon Dieu," she breathed when she had finally taken all of him. "You feel... incredible."
Harry's fingers tightened on her hips, every muscle in his body tense with the effort not to thrust upward. "You too," he managed, the words woefully inadequate to describe the pleasure coursing through him.
Fleur began to move, slowly at first – rising and falling on his shaft with deliberate control. Her breasts swayed enticingly with each movement, drawing Harry's hands upward to cup and caress them. When he pinched her nipples lightly between his fingers, Fleur's rhythm faltered, a sharp cry of pleasure escaping her.
"Yes," she encouraged, her pace increasing. "Touch me like zat while I ride you."
Harry was more than happy to comply, dividing his attention between her perfect breasts and the mesmerizing sight of his cock disappearing into her body with each downward movement of her hips. Fleur was gloriously uninhibited, riding him with increasing abandon, her head thrown back and moans spilling freely from her lips.
"You're so beautiful," Harry murmured, transfixed by the sight of her lost in pleasure above him. "So perfect."
Fleur's eyes opened, dark and heavy-lidded with desire. "Turn me over," she commanded suddenly. "Take me from behind."
As Fleur lifted herself off him, he felt a momentary loss at the absence of her heat, but the sight of her positioning herself on hands and knees quickly banished any disappointment. She looked back at him over her shoulder, her silver hair cascading down her back, her perfect ass raised invitingly.
"Like zis, 'Arry," she purred, reaching back to spread herself for him. "I want to feel all of you."
Harry moved behind her, positioning himself at her entrance and pushing forward in one smooth stroke that made them both cry out. The new angle allowed him to penetrate even deeper, and Fleur's internal muscles clenched around him in obvious pleasure.
"Yes," she hissed, pushing back against him. "Now move, 'Arry. Do not hold back."
He began to thrust in earnest, each stroke driving deep into her welcoming heat. The sound of their bodies coming together, the visual of his cock disappearing into her, and the symphony of Fleur's increasingly vocal pleasure combined to drive him wild.
"Oui, oui, just like zat," Fleur encouraged, her accent thickening with each thrust. "Harder, 'Arry. I will not break."
Harry increased his pace, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips hard enough that he worried distantly about leaving bruises. But Fleur seemed to revel in the intensity, meeting each thrust with equal force.
"Spank me," she demanded suddenly, looking back at him with wild eyes. "Please, 'Arry. I want to feel it."
Harry hesitated for only a moment before raising his hand and bringing it down on the perfect roundness of her ass with a resounding smack. The flesh reddened immediately beneath his palm, and Fleur's reaction was immediate and electric – her back arching sharply as a cry of pure pleasure tore from her throat.
"Again," she begged, her internal muscles clenching around him. "Harder. Dominate me, 'Arry."
The request ignited something deep and powerful within him. Harry delivered another slap to her other cheek, harder this time, drinking in her reaction. He alternated his spanking with deep, powerful thrusts that had Fleur sobbing with pleasure.
"You like that, don't you?" he growled, surprising himself with his dominant tone. "You like being spanked while I fuck you?"
"Oui!" Fleur cried out, her body trembling beneath him. "Mon Dieu, yes! I'm so close, 'Arry. Make me come. Please make me come!"
Harry reached around her body, his fingers finding her clit and circling it firmly in time with his thrusts. The dual stimulation was too much for Fleur – her entire body went rigid, her inner walls clamping down on him like a vise as she screamed her release. The rippling contractions of her muscles around his cock nearly pushed Harry over the edge as well, but he gritted his teeth, determined to prolong her pleasure.
As her orgasm began to subside, Harry slowed his movements, giving her a moment to recover. Fleur collapsed forward onto her elbows, her breathing ragged, her body still trembling with aftershocks.
"Mon Dieu," she gasped, looking back at him with wonder in her eyes. "That was... I 'ave never... mon Dieu."
Harry smiled, pleased beyond measure by her reaction. "Good?" he asked, still buried deep inside her.
"Magnifique," she assured him. "But you did not finish?"
Harry shook his head. "Not yet."
A slow, wicked smile spread across Fleur's face. "Then perhaps we should try something else, non? I still want to feel you come inside me."
Fleur maneuvered them until Harry was lying on his back once more. She straddled him again, taking him deep in one smooth movement that made them both gasp.
"Now," she purred, leaning forward to kiss him deeply, "we finish together."
Fleur set a slower pace this time, rolling her hips in a way that had him hitting spots deep inside her with each movement. Harry's hands roamed freely over her body, caressing her breasts, her waist, the curve of her ass still pink from his spanking.
As they moved together, Harry became aware of something unusual happening around them. Golden sparks began to emanate from where their bodies joined. The magic spread outward, creating a shimmering aura that enveloped them both.
Fleur noticed it too, her eyes widening in wonder. "Your magic," she whispered, not slowing her movements. "It's... reacting with mine."
Indeed, blue tendrils of energy had begun to emerge from Fleur's skin, intertwining with Harry's golden magic to create a mesmerizing dance of light around their bodies. The sensation was incredible – beyond physical pleasure, it felt as though their very magical cores were connecting, enhancing every touch, every movement.
"I've never seen anything like this," Harry admitted, feeling his control slipping as the combined magic heightened his every sensation.
"It is beautiful," Fleur breathed, her movements becoming more erratic as the magical connection pushed her toward another peak. "I can feel your magic inside me, 'Arry. It's... oh! I'm going to come again."
The sight of Fleur above him, surrounded by their intertwined magic, her face a portrait of ecstasy, was more than Harry could resist. "Together," he urged, feeling his own orgasm building at the base of his spine.
Fleur nodded frantically, her inner muscles beginning to flutter around him. "Yes, yes. Come with me, 'Arry. Come inside me. Now!"
Her command was his undoing. With a hoarse cry, Harry felt his release tear through him, more powerful than any he'd experienced before. The magical aura around them pulsed and flared as he emptied himself deep inside her, wave after wave of pleasure crashing through his body. Fleur's own orgasm hit simultaneously, her back arching and a cry of his name on her lips as her inner walls milked his cock of every last drop.
For several long moments, they remained locked together, trembling with the aftershocks of their shared release. The magical aura slowly faded, though Harry could still feel a connection between them.
Finally, Fleur collapsed forward onto his chest, her body deliciously heavy and warm against his. Harry wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as their breathing gradually returned to normal and their racing hearts slowed.
"That was..." Harry began.
"Magical?" Fleur suggested with a soft laugh against his neck.
"Literally," Harry agreed, smiling into her hair. "I've never experienced anything like that before. The magic, I mean."
Fleur lifted her head to look at him, her expression curious. "Never? Not with your other witches?"
Harry shook his head. "No. There's... something unique about how our magic interacts." He didn't add that he suspected it had to do with his Holy Magic and her Veela heritage – two rare and powerful magical signatures combining in unexpected ways.
"I am very glad I came to 'Ogwarts this year," Fleur murmured sleepily against his skin.
Harry pressed a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in the intoxicating scent of her hair. "Me too, Fleur. Me too."
They lay entwined for some time, drifting in and out of a peaceful half-sleep, their bodies cooling. Harry absently stroked Fleur's silky hair, marveling at how natural it felt to have her nestled against him like this. The Room of Requirement had thoughtfully provided a light blanket that had settled over them, though neither felt particularly inclined to move or dress.
"What are you thinking about?" Fleur asked eventually, her voice soft in the quiet room.
Harry considered the question honestly. "Everything. Nothing. How incredible that felt. How beautiful you are." He paused. "How strange it is that someone like you would be interested in someone like me."
Fleur lifted her head to look at him, a small crease forming between her perfect brows. "What do you mean, 'someone like you'?"
Harry shrugged, suddenly self-conscious. "You know. Just... me. Harry. Not the Boy Who Lived. Just... a regular wizard."
Fleur's laugh was gentle but incredulous. "'Arry Potter, there is nothing 'regular' about you." She propped herself up on one elbow, her free hand coming to rest over his heart. "Your magic is extraordinary. Your heart is kind. Your courage is unquestionable." Her eyes softened. "And you are the only man who has ever seen past the Veela to the witch beneath."
The sincerity in her voice made something warm unfurl in Harry's chest. "I just see you, Fleur. All of you."
"Exactement," she nodded. "And that is why I am interested in 'someone like you.'" She leaned down to press a soft kiss to his lips. "Though I must admit, your other... assets... are also very appealing."
Her hand slid lower, tracing the definition of his abs before coming to rest dangerously close to his groin. Despite having just experienced the most powerful orgasm of his life, Harry felt his body stirring with renewed interest.
"Already, Professor?" Fleur teased, feeling his reaction. "My, my. Your stamina is impressive."
"Your fault," Harry retorted, pulling her down for another kiss. This one was slower, more languid, a gentle exploration rather than a desperate claiming. When they finally broke apart, Harry found himself wondering about practical matters. "How is this going to work? With the tournament and everything?"
Fleur settled back against him, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. "Well, I still intend to win, of course," she said with playful determination. "But I see no reason why we cannot enjoy each other's company in the meantime."
"And Hermione and Tonks?" Harry asked, wanting to be absolutely clear. "You're really okay with... sharing?"
"As I said, Veela have a more... flexible approach to such things," Fleur explained. "We believe in following the heart's desires, not restricting them with human conventions. If your heart has room for all of us, then who am I to demand exclusivity?"
She propped herself up again to look at him. "Besides, I am quite curious about your other witches. Especially this Tonks with her... special abilities." A mischievous smile played on her lips. "Perhaps someday we might all... play together, non?"
The mental image her words conjured – Fleur, Hermione, and Tonks, all focused on him (or perhaps each other) – sent a jolt of desire straight to his groin. Fleur obviously felt his reaction and laughed delightedly.
"I see you like that idea," she teased, her hand now deliberately stroking his rapidly hardening length beneath the blanket.
"How could I not?" Harry admitted, his voice rough with renewed desire.
Fleur's expression turned more serious. "Before we get... distracted again, there is something else I wished to discuss. These defense lessons you are giving – I would like to join them."
The shift in topic caught Harry off guard. "Really? But you're already an accomplished duelist. The twins said you're the best at Beauxbatons."
Fleur looked pleased by the compliment. "That is kind of them to say, but there is always more to learn. Besides," she added with a touch of vulnerability, "it would give me a chance to make friends here. The other Beauxbatons students... they do not always welcome my company. The girls are jealous, and the boys cannot see past..." She gestured vaguely at her body.
Harry understood immediately. Despite her confidence and beauty, Fleur likely experienced a loneliness similar to his own – isolated by others' perceptions rather than truly seen for herself. "Of course you can join," he said immediately. "You'd be welcome. And I'm sure you could teach us all a thing or two as well."
Fleur's smile was brilliant. "I would like that very much." Her expression turned thoughtful. "Though perhaps I should not demonstrate too much of my knowledge. I still plan to win the tournament, after all."
"You're that confident you'll be chosen as champion?" Harry asked curiously.
"Of course," Fleur replied without a hint of false modesty. "I am the best Beauxbatons has to offer. Anyone who knows dueling will confirm this." She tilted her head, studying him. "You could enter too, you know. You are certainly skilled enough."
Harry shook his head firmly. "No thanks. I've had enough adventure for several lifetimes already. Besides, I'm not of age – there's going to be an age restriction this year."
"Ah yes, Madame Maxime mentioned this." Fleur nodded. "Well, perhaps it is better this way. I would hate to have to defeat you publicly, mon cher." Her teasing smile took any sting from the words.
"You're very sure of yourself," Harry observed, amused.
"I am Veela," she replied simply, as if that explained everything. Perhaps, in a way, it did. "Besides, you 'ave seen only a fraction of what I can do." She leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear. "In magic... and in other areas."
Harry's body responded immediately to her suggestive tone, his cock now fully hard beneath her wandering hand. "Care to demonstrate some of these other areas?" he invited, his own hand sliding down her back to cup the perfect roundness of her ass.
"With pleasure, Professor. But first..." She reached for her wand. With a quick move, she cast what Harry recognized as a contraceptive charm. "Safety first, non?"
"Always prepared," Harry commented appreciatively.
"A good champion anticipates every possibility," Fleur replied with a wink, setting her wand aside once more. "Now, where were we?"
What followed was a slower, more exploratory coupling than their first frenzied union. They took their time learning each other's bodies, discovering sensitive spots and preferences. Harry delighted in finding the places that made Fleur gasp and tremble – the hollow behind her ear, the inside of her wrist, the backs of her knees. Fleur was equally attentive, her clever hands and mouth finding ways to draw sounds from Harry that he'd never made before.
When they finally joined again, it was face to face. They reached their peaks together, crying out each other's names as pleasure washed through them in endless waves.
Afterward, they lay tangled together once more, pleasantly exhausted and utterly content. Harry knew they should probably return to their respective dormitories soon – Fleur to the Beauxbatons carriage, he to Gryffindor Tower – but he was reluctant to end this perfect moment.
"We should go before we are missed," Fleur murmured eventually, echoing his thoughts. "Though I wish we could stay."
"We'll have other nights," Harry promised, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "And days too, if we can manage it."
Fleur smiled at that. "I will hold you to that promise, 'Arry Potter." She stretched languidly, the movement emphasizing the elegant lines of her body in a way that nearly tempted Harry to suggest one more round. But responsibility won out, and they reluctantly began to gather their scattered clothing.
As they dressed, Harry found himself watching Fleur, still somewhat disbelieving that this extraordinary witch had chosen to be with him. She caught his gaze and smiled knowingly.
"You are staring again, Professor."
"Can you blame me?" Harry replied honestly. "You're breathtaking, Fleur. In every way."
A genuine blush colored her cheeks at his sincerity. "You must stop saying such sweet things, or we will never leave this room."
Once they were fully dressed – though considerably more rumpled than when they'd arrived – Harry remembered something. "I have a way we can get back without being seen," he told her, reaching into his pocket to produce his invisibility cloak.
Fleur's eyes widened in recognition. "An invisibility cloak! These are incredibly rare."
"It was my father's," Harry explained, unfurling the silvery material. "It's come in handy more times than I can count."
"I imagine it has," Fleur said with a knowing smile. "Though I suspect it is not big enough to cover us both completely, non? We will have to press very close together."
"What a hardship," Harry deadpanned, earning a musical laugh.
They left the Room of Requirement carefully, the cloak draped over them both. As Fleur had predicted, they had to stay very close together, her body pressed against his side as they navigated the darkened corridors of Hogwarts. The casual intimacy of it – her soft curves against him, her scent filling his senses.
When they reached the entrance hall, Harry hesitated. "I should probably walk you all the way to the carriage," he offered. "It's dark out there."
Fleur's smile was visible even in the dim light. "My gallant 'ero," she teased gently. "Always protecting."
"Old habits," Harry shrugged. "Besides, it gives me a few more minutes with you."
They slipped out of the castle and across the moonlit grounds toward the massive Beauxbatons carriage. The night was clear and crisp, stars scattered like diamonds across the velvet sky. As they approached the carriage, Fleur slowed her steps, clearly in no hurry to end their time together.
"Tonight was... special, 'Arry," she said softly. "More than I expected."
"For me too," Harry agreed, stopping just short of the carriage steps. He lifted the cloak from them both, knowing they were hidden from the castle's windows by the carriage itself. "That magic thing that happened..."
"Oui," Fleur nodded thoughtfully. "I will research it. Perhaps there is more to know about such connections."
Harry had a fleeting thought that Hermione would be proud of this approach but decided this wasn't the moment to mention another girlfriend. "Whatever it means, it felt... right."
Fleur's smile was soft in the moonlight. "It did." She stepped closer, her hands coming to rest on his chest. "Until tomorrow, Professor Potter?"
"Until tomorrow," Harry confirmed, leaning down to capture her lips in a final, lingering kiss.
When they finally broke apart, Fleur's eyes were shining. "Bonne nuit, mon cher," she whispered, before reluctantly stepping back toward the carriage.
"Goodnight, Fleur," Harry replied, watching as she ascended the steps. At the door, she turned to blow him one final kiss before disappearing inside.
Harry stood for a moment, simply absorbing everything that had happened tonight. Then, with a smile he couldn't have suppressed if he'd tried, he slipped the invisibility cloak back over himself and began the journey back to Gryffindor Tower.
If you want to Read 13 More Chapters Right Now. Search 'Patreon.com/Drinor' on Websearch