A Veela Fairy Tale

There was once a girl who loved a boy.

There was nothing so strange about that, except that the girl was the most beautiful girl in the land. and the boy-- the boy was quite ordinary though astonishingly indifferent to the girl's radiance and even to her presence.

The boy's brother was everything a girl like her should love-- rebellious, handsome, charming. And very interested. But the girl had quickly tired of him, having known many boys just like him.

She only wanted the one who wouldn't pay any attention. At first it had been an annoyance, turning on her charms and getting no response aside from an irritated glance and mutters of needing to get real work done.

Eventually the boy's rejections spurred the girl's determination to have him as her own. Soon it was love.

And still the boy paid her no attention. But the girl would not give up so easily....

Fleur Delacour watched through long lashes as Percy Weasley walked through the Gringotts office. For weeks now he had been there daily, speaking in low tones with the goblins about something... Fleur didn't know or care what.

She had memorized him, intrigued since the day he had glanced at her and away. She was not used to this-- men, sometimes even women, could not take their eyes off of her, hypnotized by her appearance.

On first sight, he appeared plain, not worth noting. But weeks of study led Fleur to appreciate the soft red hair, swept out of the way of his pale, angular face, and the light freckles across his cheeks and nose. She noticed the way his head was always purposefully held up and the way he walked as though he carried a secret known only to himself and coveted by everyone else. Mostly, she took note of his eyes, a pale brown, always with a spark of determination and a hint, just the slightest hint, of fear.

Twenty minutes later Percy emerged from his conference with the goblins. He looked relieved, and held a thick roll of parchment in one hand. As always, he began to hurry past Fleur without so much as taking a second glance.

"Monsieur!" Fleur called, rising from her seat. "Monsieur, will you walk me to ze Cauldron?"

Percy sighed impatiently, but slowed his pace to allow Fleur to catch up. "I'm in a hurry," he said pointedly as they left the building together.

"Not so 'urried to not be a gentleman, Monsieur," she replied smoothly.

"It's Percy."

"Percy," she repeated, her accent creating a sound more beautiful than any English pronunciation of his name. She smiled broadly then, destroying any appearance of aloofness.

"And what are you working on zat eez so eemportant?" she asked, hoping to generate conversation.

She had said the magic words. Percy puffed out his chest proudly. "Oh, you wouldn't be interested in that," he said with false modesty before launching into a lengthy explanation of political ties between Gringotts and the Ministry, and his own important part in forging those ties.

When they reached the Leaky Cauldron, Percy reluctantly stemmed off his stream of speech. "Here we are."

Fleur smiled and touched a hand to his chest. "Percy. We must speak of zis again soon."

With that, she rose on tiptoe and kissed him. It was hard, demanding kiss without any gentleness but Percy gave himself to it, responding with nearly as much force.

And then they parted without a word.

Even when the girl finally had her boy, it was a challenge. Over time she loved the challenge as much as him, and finally, he loved her.

And so they lived happily ever after.

Sort of.

the end.