The Master Bedroom of Delacour Manor

The Master Bedroom of Delacour Manor

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Chapter One

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"No, no . . . 'arry . . . ." she let out a little sigh as she looked back at him, shaking her head from side to side. "I caught you looking, yes?" It was a somewhat rhetorical question, he didn't need to answer, and she certainly didn't expect one. If it wasn't for the fact that he needed to keep control over the situation, he would have hung his head in embarrassment. Harry Potter was standing near the doorway to the luxurious master bedroom of Delacour Manor, arrest warrant in his hand, goggling at the most beautiful thing that he had ever laid his eyes on. Ten minutes ago, Harry meant business. He and two other Aurors blasted down the front door of the manor, intending on arresting Fleur Delacour.

"Campbell you take the first floor, Ellison, you take second, I'll take third, use stunners only. . ." Those were the only words exchanged as the three aurors started to spread out and search the place. Delacour Manor, despite it's size, felt a little over-crowded, there were so many ornaments, couches, porcelain vases full of all kinds of flowers, decorating the antique furniture dotted about in the hallways and landings. There were enough flowers here to make any man feel a little nauseous; it was probably her way of making the place a little more . . . . homey. He grimaced at the thought of what her wedding would look like. The third floor consisted of mostly guestrooms, all of them furnished with expensive looking over-sized furniture. It took him a while to search the entire floor, there must have been at least 20 rooms, but he eventually covered them all and was fairly certain no one was in any of them. No sign of Fleur Delacour yet, in fact the manor seemed empty so far, and his hopes of finding anyone here were slowly dissipating.. He walked back to the landing near the main staircase and noticed a corridor leading towards the eastern side of the manor. He had somehow missed it before, probably because at the time, he was still mentally re-coiling from the indoor flower garden, which he figured was probably her alternative, to, say, wallpaper.

He walked towards it and found that it was a long hallway leading to a set of double doors, leading to what he presumed to be the master bedroom. Instincts told him that no one would be in there, actually he had completely lost hope that anyone would be here at all, considering they made their presence quite obvious when they broke down the front entrance, three very noisy Impedimenta spells were hard not to hear. Even the young Auror, who had a sixth sense when it came to his job, was way off target sometimes.

As he slowly pushed open the doors, he took in the lightperu colored carpet, the luxurious furniture, the large windows on the eastward wall over-looking the vast gardens; it certainly was the nicest room he had seen so far. The early morning sun was lighting up the floor and walls, giving it a lovely, inviting sort of atmosphere to it. He took a step into the room, taking a quick look around to get his bearings, Auror training instinctively making him look for things that he could use if he was faced with a hostile enemy, furniture that could be used as cover, possible escape routes other than the door; his mind was working strategically until his eyes fell on the bed on the far side of the room. The world seemed to stop spinning. The sight before him was . . . it was . . . he didn't know how to describe it. It seemed like she had just woken up, she yawned a little and stretched her arms, rubbed her eyes slowly . . . she made it look so sensual. There she was, on the queen size bed basking in the morning sun, casually waking up from the minor disturbance of three Aurors breaking into her manor. Only Fleur Delacour can manage to look that beautiful first thing in the morning.

Noticing him standing in the doorway, she slowly turned on her side, and propped her head up on one of her hands. As she did this, the silk sheets that were covering her body slipped, and Harry held his breath as the material started to slide down. His eyes fell upon the exposed leg, its long slenderness blessed with smooth, pale, creamy skin, he couldn't help but let his eyes slowly travel up towards her thighs, those perfectly curved hips, and soon realized that he had enough evidence to presume she was naked under there. Fleur Delacour just lay there looking back at him; she seemed to be enjoying herself watching the young Auror gawk at her. She was trailing circles on the silk sheet with her finger, and then tilted her head slightly, questiongly, her sparkling blue eyes gazing back at him. He saw her eyes glance down at the rolled up parchment in his hand, and then looked back up to his face, giving him a small smile before she spoke, "It is good to see you 'arry . . . I 'ope I find you well?"

Harry didn't know whether to hate or love that French accent, anything she said sounded seductive, erotic, and he really didn't need that right now. He gripped the arrest warrant in his hand a little tighter and took another tentative step into the room. His throat still felt constricted, and he hadn't found the courage to speak up yet, he had a feeling anything he said would come out as a squeak. He was pretty sure he hadn't blinked since he laid eyes on her, and they started to water, causing him to snap out of his reverie, blinking a few times to try and clear his mind. She was still looking up at him curiously, and being the Professional Auror he was, he blushed a little and simply nodded. Her eyes glanced down at his hand again, she seemed to know what it was. She spoke very softly, "I suppose you are 'ere to arrest me . . . ."

Harry still hadn't found his voice yet, he thought he had gotten over his teenage crush, his infatuation towards this beautiful veela, but he was obviously far from it, his hormones were coming back with a vengeance. He gave her another shy little nod. To make matters worse, she smiled in return and then got up from where she was lying. "Oohkay then, Mr. Potterr . . . Let me just get my clothes . . . ." She slowly got up on her hands and knees and started crawling over to the bedside table furthest away from the doors, letting the silk material fall off her completely, confirming Harry's suspicion that she was, indeed, not wearing a single piece of clothing. She slowly made her way over across the bed towards the bedside lamp where her white lacy underwear were hanging. Damn it, he thought. Even when she was on her hands and knees she could sway her hips seductively, and he hated the fact that he liked it, that he just didn't have the will power to look away, he knew this was what she wanted, he knew he was falling right into Fleur's hands, but . . . but . . . it can't be that naughty to admire her body, or more specifically, her perfect, round bum, for a few more seconds could it? Fleur looked over her shoulder and saw him staring at her. She quietly whispered, "Now don't get 'eny idea's Mr. Potterr . . . ."

Harry couldn't feel anything. His mind felt numb, his body felt numb, actually, no, he could feel something. Yes, his manhood was becoming more and more constricted as the blood rushed towards it, he cursed Ginny for encouraging him to wear tight pants, she said it showed off his taut arse, as she so elegantly put it. He watched her make her way across the bed, moving ever so slowly, giving him all the time in the world to stare at her slender body. Now it was just getting plain uncomfortable. His manhood was pushing against the fabric to the point where it was almost painful, so he tried, very discreetly, to reach down and shift it to the side a bit to give it some breathing space. Unfortunately for Harry, Fleur happened to look over her shoulder again just as he pushed his palm against his crotch. He saw her look down at his bulge and smile slightly. "No, no . . . 'arry . . . ." She let out a little sigh as she looked back at him, shaking her head from side to side. "I caught you looking, yes?" It was clear she knew the answer. "Tu te fripon 'arry . . . You are a naughty, naughty booy . . . ."

She had a way to make him feel so small, Harry was embarrassed, no, he was disappointed with himself. He was better than this, he thought, he wasn't a pervert like some dirty Slytherin, he had more self control, a hell of a lot more since his days at Hogwarts, and he let that go. He should have been the gentlemen and looked away or leave the room and wait outside, but he didn't, he chose to stay and watch her get dressed. He was about to apologize to her and tell her he would give her some privacy, when he suddenly realized that he wasn't there to apologize, he was there to bloody arrest her! He was not going to let her play him and take control over the situation. He took a deep breath and focused on the task at hand, which was to read her, her rights. He unrolled the arrest warrant, cleared his voice and started to read out loud, he knew all the words, he had said them so many times in the four years of being an Auror, but it served as a very good distraction to not look at her, she was probably running her fingers around her nipp. . . . . Harry closed his eyes and shook his head, frustrated that he was letting his mind wander again. "Fleur Delacour, you are under arrest for suspicion of conspiracy to blackmail, your involvement to political sabotage, and alleged sexual assault on Rufus Scrimgeour . . . . You have the right to . . . ."

"Excusez-moi, Mr. Potterr . . . ." Harry closed his eyes and let out a sigh. Without looking up at her, he curtly replied, "What is it, Miss Delacour?" Her words sounded seductive no matter what she said, and he also detected a hint of amusement in her voice. "I am 'aving trouble 'earing you . . . ." Harry looked up at her again, hating himself that a small part of him was just saying, "just one last look . . ." He didn't realize, or maybe didn't want to realize, that he simply could have ordered her to dress first, or at least asked her to put some underwear on, but logic had a tendency to fly out of the window when you were standing in front of a naked Veela, so he did the stupid thing of looking into those deep, silver blue eyes, and thought about how to help her out. They were so bewitching; he could feel himself being drawn towards her, his legs taking him, or maybe his manhood pulling him, until he was standing a foot away from the edge of the bed. But Harry didn't train Occlumency for nothing, it was these kinds of situations that called for strong mental discipline, and he was able, very able to will himself to block her mind tricks. He wasn't going to let some Veela use her magic against him. He straightened up to his full height and valiantly marched on, concentrating on the parchment he was holding. "You have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer questions. Do you understand?"

"Oui . . ." she whispered. Just out of the corner of his eye, he could see Fleur slowly making her way over towards the edge of the bed. He didn't like where this was going. "Anything you do say may be used against you in a court of law. Do you understand?"

"Oui . . ." Fleur was now at the edge of the bed, reaching out towards him. Step away! Step away! he mentally screamed to himself. But Harry was on auto-pilot at the moment, his mouth was moving, he knew he was saying something to her, but it wasn't registering in his brain at all. His senses were burning up, his eyes were having trouble focusing, and his breathing was becoming more and more of a problem as he heard a faint sound, like a zip being pulled down. "You . . . you . . . you have the right to consult an attorney before . . . um . . . before speaking to the ministry . . ." His eyes fluttered closed for a second when he felt her hand slide into his trousers. " . . . and to have an attorney present during questioning now or in the future. Do . . . do you understand?"

"Of coourse, Mr. Potterr . . . . ." She purred, the young auror was definitely not in control of the situation. He glanced down to see Fleur looking back up at him with a small smile, her head tilted to the side as her delicate hands gently stroked his manhood back and forth.

"Is zere 'enything else, Mr. Potterr . . . . . ?" He could hear his heart beating in his ears, watching her slowly inch her face forward, not once breaking eye contact as she opened her mouth and slowly licked her lips. He closed his eyes and let out a quiet moan as he felt the tip of her small tongue touch him.

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to be continued . . .

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