Veela Magic

Chapter 10: Dirty Work

I'm your dream, mind astray

I'm your eyes while you're away

I'm your pain while you repay

You know it's sad but true

* * * * * * * * *

It was a Thursday morning, and students were pushing sleepily through the corridors to get to the Great Hall for breakfast. Draco was standing in the corridor the Gryffindors usually entered from, trying not to look like he was waiting for a Gryffindor.

"Hermione, there's got to be a way I can quit Divination. You didn't get into any trouble over it, and it's bad enough that she hangs around trying to give me pep talks about accepting my doom like a proper Gryffindor all the time now she's Head of House, I can't handle it in class as well!"

Damn it. Potter was with her.

They rounded the corner. Potter was looking in even more disarray than usual, and Hermione was gesticulating. "You don't have enough classes to make up for it! I told you you should -" She broke off, seeing Draco.

Draco glared at Potter, just for form's sake, while he tried to figure out how to get Hermione alone for a second. Potter glared right back, in that steady, infuriating way he had, and then luckily Weasley came up from behind him and said, "Harry! Come on, don't let that mad old bat put you off your food, I'm starving!" Potter turned away from Draco and headed off to the Hall.

Hermione was about to follow when Draco stopped her. "We need to talk."

She looked angry. "You cursed Harry. There was no need for that - you didn't even give him a chance to listen. We could have talked to him some more. And then I had to pretend nothing had happened once you'd cast the spell and I felt awful."

"He was going straight out the door!" Draco protested. "Trust me, there wasn't anything else to do."

"Why should I trust you, exactly?" Hermione retorted. "You told me a very interesting story, but you didn't give me any proof. And if this plan of yours involves cursing my friends, I'm going to need proof."

Draco sighed. "Look, we don't have time for this -"

"Harry's going to need proof too, you know. Or were you planning to just cast Imperius to make him go along with you?"

"Of course not!"

"It doesn't matter," Hermione said. "I'm not going to help you anymore until I get some proof. So unless you want to try convincing Harry without my help, you'd better come up with something."

Draco ground his teeth in frustration. "It's not like Fleur and Cho gave me a bloody mission statement."

"You said you got letters from your father. You could show me those."

The girl was too damn clever by half. "I don't have them anymore. Somebody could have seen them, and anyway, they were spelled so that only I could read them."

"Well, isn't that convenient," Hermione remarked flatly. She looked around the emptying corridor. "We'd better get to breakfast. Start thinking of ways to show me I can trust you."

Draco was still trying to come up with a convincing reply when she disappeared through the door of the Great Hall. Wishing a plague of boils upon all snotty Gryffindors, he followed after her and took his seat at the Slytherin table.

His fried egg was a funny colour, Draco decided morosely, and Vincent kept taking all the pumpkin juice. This definitely wasn't his day so far.

"Draco?"

He swivelled around quickly to see Cho standing behind him, immaculate in freshly pressed robes and a perfectly knotted blue tie. I bet she has to use magic to do her tie.

"Isn't your boyfriend going to be upset if he sees you mixing with Slytherins?" Draco said, sneering at her. He heard Gregory snigger.

"Why, I'm helping you out," she replied sweetly. "Won't Hermione Granger think better of you when she sees that I bother talking to you?"

"Granger?" Blaise asked, eyebrows raised. "What do you want with her, Draco?"

Cho turned to Blaise conspiratorially. "Just between you and me, I think Draco's going to ask her out. Won't they make an adorable couple?"

She looked back at Draco. "Well, I'd better be going."

"Yeah, you probably need Fleur's help to get the spoonfuls of porridge into your mouth," Draco shot at her.

Cho looked momentarily startled - and angry - but she walked back to the Ravenclaw table without saying a word.

All the nearby Slytherins were staring at Draco with expressions ranging from amusement to outrage. Draco became completely absorbed in the task of cutting the crusts off his toast, and then thankfully Dumbledore rose to speak to the school and everyone went silent.

"A member of the Board of Governors - Mr. Walter Prex, I believe his name is - will be visiting Hogwarts this afternoon and staying with us for one night. He wishes to inspect the school, make sure our educational practices are up to the Ministry's standards, that sort of thing. I trust if you students have any catastrophes planned, you can delay them until after his departure?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and many students laughed, though very few at the Slytherin table, Draco was glad to see. He might find himself on the same side as Dumbledore now, but that didn't stop him from thinking that the Headmaster was still a prejudiced old bastard who'd probably love to see all of Slytherin in Azkaban.

"Educational practices, my arse," Draco heard Blaise mutter. "The Ministry don't have time to bother with that sort of thing now, and everyone knows they let Dumbledore run his own show anyway. I bet he's really an Auror come to check that we don't have Death Eaters hiding out here again."

"Ha! Last time we had an Auror here he was the Death Eater!" Malcolm Baddock chimed in, too loudly. "The Ministry can't do anything!"

Silence fell on the Great Hall as Malcolm's last words echoed across the room. Students and teachers alike turned to stare at him, though some hid their hatred better than others. The boy flushed, but held his head up proudly. He looked like he was going to speak again when Pansy rounded on him, infuriated. Draco couldn't hear what she whispered to him, but Malcolm lowered his eyes. The challenge was withdrawn - for now.

The rest of breakfast was finished in silence. Draco hurried to the door as soon as his plate was cleared - things were going faster than he'd planned, and he had to get Hermione to co-operate, now.

She was waiting for him at the door, a stroke of luck he hadn't expected. Maybe she'd decided saving the Muggle world was more important than protecting Potter from heartbreak after all.

"Draco," she said urgently, "I have an idea. Let's go back to the Charms classroom to talk - I checked, there isn't a class on there now."

"Fine. The Slytherins will probably think we're snogging and have me tarred and feathered when I come out, but I suppose we'll just have to take that risk."

Hermione looked puzzled. "What?"

"Cho decided to walk over to the Slytherin table at the beginning of breakfast and tell everybody that I doodle 'Draco Loves Hermione' in my scrolls during class. Of course, Malcolm managed to upstage that, but I'm still going to have some awkward questions to answer once they get hold of me."

She shrugged as they entered the classroom. "Well, you knew you'd have to deal with that."

"Oh, so you believe me now?"

"I've got an idea. Fleur and Cho told you exactly who they were working for, didn't they?"

"Yes, of course, I told you." Draco frowned. "How's that going to help?"

"We could make a Pensieve!" Hermione looked excited, like she'd just solved a particularly difficult Arithmancy problem.

It was a pretty good idea. "Do you know how to make one?"

She nodded. "Do you remember on the Hogwarts Express, when you told Harry people would think he had killed Cedric?" A touch of resentment entered her voice as she continued. "Harry was very upset. I suggested we make a Pensieve to show people at school his memories of that night in the graveyard, but he didn't want to. I went to research it anyway, just in case he changed his mind. If you steal some ingredients from the Potions classroom, we could do it in the next hour. Really, all it takes is a specially prepared container, and then the wizard just has to remove the memories from his mind with his wand - I'll teach you the charm - and put them in."

"That actually sounds like it might work," Draco mused. "Good thinking." Hermione began a smile that was abruptly cut off when he added, "But you should steal the ingredients."

"I'm already doing most of the work on this! Why can't you do your bit? Too proud to steal from Snape? You'd get into a lot less trouble than I would for it."

"From him, yes, but what would happen if Fleur or Cho were to catch me? It's not too likely, but Cho's not all that fond of me. I would put it past her to trail after me all day just to see if she can catch me out in something. It's too big a risk."

Hermione bit down on her lower lip in thought. "All right. I'll teach you the charm now, and we'll meet up again at lunchtime, if you think it's safe. I'll get Harry to come, quietly."

"It's probably safe enough. I am supposed to be seducing you, after all, and that involves getting Potter to tolerate my presence as well."

"Okay. Now concentrate on the memory, and repeat after me, memoria exsurge, memoria exsurge..."

* * * * * * * * *

Draco waited nervously inside the Arithmancy classroom. After last night's abject failure, he wasn't entirely sure this would work, and the effort of separating out one memory from all the others, lifting it from his mind, and then replacing it so that he could repeat and perfect the process, had left him frazzled.

Hermione entered, carrying a small covered bowl. Behind her was Potter, who looked startled when he saw him. Draco groaned inwardly. If Potter forced him to cast another Obliviate, Hermione really was going to run to Dumbledore.

"Harry..." Hermione said nervously, after she'd quickly shut the door, "we need to show you something. Something important happened to Draco recently, so important he decided to show us."

"Show us what?" Potter said, his voice loaded with distaste. "Is he going to perform magic? I think you should just tell me what's going on, Hermione."

"I think - it'll be a lot clearer if you just saw his memory," Hermione said, the strain evident in her voice. "We've prepared a Pensieve. It'll be perfectly safe, I promise."

Potter seemed to consider this. "All right. Have you seen the memory?"

"No, but I'll watch it now, with you. He just needs to put the memory into the bowl, and then to lift it out with his wand - it'll be a little like a slide projector."

Slide projector? Draco thought it best not to ask.

"Right." Potter turned to him. "Show us your memory then, Malfoy. And no tricks, unless you want to be hexed again."

Draco ground his teeth trying to bite back an angry response. He had to concentrate. He thought back to the day of the Quidditch match, picturing the moment Fleur and Cho had first accosted him and the moment he left them to firmly bound the length of the memory, his wand pressed to his temple all the time, and then he intoned, "memoria exsurge, memoria exsurge", and lifted his wand away from his head. It was difficult; a sort of suction seemed to be pulling his wand back. The silvery strand joining him to the wand was lengthening slowly, and as it separated moving his wand became easy again, and he lifted his eyes in relief and met Potter's. Potter was frowning slightly as he watched Draco. He looked wary, and ready for an attack. And Draco suddenly realised that in the memory, there was nothing that exonerated him, that Potter would see all his easy assurances to the girls and would probably try to kill him... Draco faltered, and the viscous thread of memory slipped from the end of his wand, arcing through the air and splattering Potter with what looked like drops of silver oil.

And then suddenly Potter was gone, and Hermione was staring at him in terror.

"What... what happened?" He felt dizzy with shock.

"Harry's been pulled into the memory," she said in an almost-whisper. "But the bowl didn't catch it, so it... scattered..."

"If he's gone, though, it must have held together, mustn't it?" Draco looked at the floor, trying hard not to panic. Here and there were shining drops of silver. "Do you think we can use the splashes, somehow?"

"You'll have to go in after him." Hermione's face had gone pale. "Once somebody's been pulled in by touching it, the originator of the memory has to go in to retrieve them. You're the only one who has control over that environment."

"If there is an environment to go to."

"If there is one," she agreed quietly.

They both stared at the floor for a long moment. Then Draco said, "What do I need to do?"

"Just touch it the way Harry did. Once you're in... it's hard to explain. You don't need a wand, because it's your world. Harry can't interact with anybody there, but he can with you, and you need to take hold of him and just sort of think, rise, and you should both return here."

Draco nodded, and bent down to the ground. He wanted to say a goodbye, or something, just in case, but then Hermione would have known he was scared. So he leaned forward and touched one silver splash with his finger.

Hermione's gasp followed him as the world disappeared and pine trees rose out of the nothingness. Pine trees and voices and colours that solidified into Fleur and Cho and Potter, standing in the copse... and himself. The Draco of a few days ago, the one who hadn't made up his mind yet. He leaned against a tree and made fun of the plan of Lord Voldemort, trying to buy himself time to think.

Draco really hoped Fleur and Cho hadn't seen through his bravado. And at the same time, he hoped that Harry Potter would.

Harry hadn't seen him yet. His back was to Draco, and it was shaking silently; whether from anger or tears or both, Draco didn't know.

"Makes sense. She plays the whore pretty well."

Draco was intrigued. It wasn't often one got to hear oneself speak, after all.

"Well, you'd better learn to do it yourself soon," Cho spat, and Harry slumped to the ground. Draco must have made a sound, because Harry turned around and they both saw each other. Harry's face wasn't set in the self-satisfied, calm, wholesome Gryffindor expression that Draco had wanted to smash so often. It was smashed now, in a way, contorted with poisonous, humiliating grief, and Draco found that he didn't want to see it that way.

With an effort, he said, "Turn around. You need to see everything."

Harry did. He sat with his head in his hands and watched as Draco pledged himself to Voldemort, as he joked about wanting to sleep with Sinistra. Finally, Draco broke the binding spell around the copse and swaggered off, and the scene around them blurred for a second before returning them to the beginning of the memory.

Harry groaned. "Not again!"

"No," Draco said. He walked over to Harry and took his arm. Harry stiffened for a second, and then relaxed as Draco said, "We're going back." Draco wasn't quite sure what to do, but he thought, rise, with all his strength, and then he and Harry were floating above the grass before seeming to push their way out of the top of the world, back to the Arithmancy classroom and Hermione's worried face.

* * * * * * * * *

During breakfast, Cho had wanted to talk to Fleur about her encounter with Draco at the Slytherin table, but sensed that Fleur might consider it too dangerous to discuss their mission, even tangentially, in such a public place. So she contented herself with a simple "Well, Draco Malfoy's little crush isn't such a secret anymore." Padma Patil, who was sitting on Fleur's left, heard her and raised her eyebrows interrogatively, but Cho didn't elaborate. Then Dumbledore made his announcement.

"My dad says the Board of Governors are a waste of time," Mandy Brocklehurst commented.

"Really?" Fleur said. She seemed nonchalant enough, but Cho could hear a trace of suppressed excitement in her voice. "Does he come across them often in his work?"

"A fair bit. There isn't a proper Department of Education, you know, just the Board, and the Governors come from all over the place - half the time they're just putting in a few hours a week in the Board, and their real job's in a different Department, either that or they're not Ministry people at all. Dad says it's a disgrace, and they should get someone in who's actually committed to Education and not concentrating on their other Department work all the time."

"So this Mr. Prex..." Cho supplied. She had a feeling she knew where Fleur was going with this.

"Oh, most of the Ministry staff have been drafted into Defence these days," Mandy said. "Hey, Cho, could you pass the honey?"

Cho didn't get a chance to talk to Fleur in private until after her Arithmancy class. Draco hurried out as soon as Professor Vector let them go, and most of the class had left by the time Fleur appeared at the door. Cho pretended to have some extra notes to take down, and so she waited for the room to empty before she spoke to Fleur.

"You think he's an Auror?"

"It makes sense. The Ministry finds it hard to keep any real tabs on what Dumbledore does here, so they like to check up on things from time to time. And we're in a war here. Dumbledore's patience doesn't extend to letting more than one Ministry official visiting every once in a great while, so education isn't going to be a top priority when they do get to send one."

"You think we should ask-" Cho swallowed "-our Master about him?"

"There isn't enough time. He's only staying one night. I think we should see what he knows - it's unlikely we'll have an opportunity like this again. Our Master has people at the Ministry, but none with our talents."

Your talents, Cho wanted to say, but that might sound like she was trying to avoid her share of the work. And she'd meant every word of what she'd said last night. Fleur might sound businesslike now, as she stood tall and unafraid beside the door, looking almost like an avenging angel... but each conquest cost her dearly, leaving her trembling and violated. Fleur might have more strength than anybody Cho had ever known, but she needed her help all the same.

And Cho wasn't sure if she herself had the strength to watch Fleur suffer.

"Tonight, then." She tried to sound matter-of-fact. Just another day at the office, she thought, and had to restrain the urge to giggle hysterically.

Fleur nodded.

"We won't need that extra power the Master can send?"

"He's just an ordinary man," Fleur said, shrugging. "He's only here for one night, so it's not likely that he's looking for spies - probably just consulting with Dumbledore to make sure Hogwarts' defences are reliable, and to pass on Ministry instructions. He won't be expecting anything like us, and I can make sure suspicions just... won't occur to him.

"We'll go at midnight."

* * * * * * * * *

Eleven oh-two, the clock said, but the second-hand was almost at the big twelve so it was eleven oh-three really, and that could be rounded up to eleven oh-five, nobody bothers with individual minutes anyway when they're telling time, but then again she didn't really want midnight to come, so maybe safer to just think it was eleven, or elevenish...

Cho's nerves screamed. She was horribly afraid, but this waiting was almost more than she could bear. All through the building, Hogwarts was slowly going to sleep, or at least retiring to its bedroom for the night. She and Fleur had to wait until the corridors were safe, and until their Governor could safely be said to be in his room, before making their move.

Warriors waiting for a battle to begin would prime their weapons to fill up the time. Fleur, in a sense, was always primed - no tedious beauty routine for her. She hardly ever even brushed her mane of blonde hair, and she certainly didn't need makeup. Cho stole a glance at her. She was wearing a diaphanous nightgown of pale blue, and nothing under it. Cho swallowed.

"Black for you, I think," Fleur murmured, and at the wave of her wand Cho's plain school robes were replaced by a filmy gown the twin of Fleur's own, but shorter. "Or red..." The thin material flickered through various shades of red under Fleur's direction, and then with a frown she flicked it back to black. "No, subtle is best, I think. And you look beautiful in black."

Cho didn't think that what she was wearing could possibly be described as 'subtle' by anybody who wasn't blind. And in a different room. "I see you've being paying attention in Advanced Transfiguration, then," she said, trying to lighten the mood.

Fleur gave her a small smile. "You'd be surprised how adaptable McGonagall's spells can be."

Cho blushed as Fleur went back to studying her body. Eleven-twenty-eight, and she still didn't feel ready, though she couldn't think of any other preparations to change this feeling of helplessness. If she brushed her hair any more, it was going to stand on end with static. That could be fixed with a Gel Spell, of course, but then her hair would be just back to the way it was.

Hair. She looked down and frowned, then pointed her wand at her legs and said "comas abite."

Fleur laughed. "What was that?"

"Oh, erm, depilation charm," Cho said, embarrassed.

"Careful with that." Fleur moved over to Cho's bed and ran her hand through her hair. "I'd hate to see you with a bald spot."

Cho tried to laugh, but it didn't quite come out right.

Fleur stood up and was standing before her in one fluid movement. She touched Cho's bare shoulders gently, and trailed her fingers down her arms to take her hands.

"You're perfect. We just need to do one more spell."

"Oh?" Fleur was looking at her with... regret, it almost seemed. Her hands were warm around Cho's own.

Fleur released Cho's left hand and brought out her wand. "E gravidando servemur."

The Contraceptus Charm. Of course.

I should have thought of that.

But she hadn't been thinking properly about what lay ahead of her. She couldn't. She... even now, it didn't quite seem real.

Fleur sat down beside Cho and wrapped her arms around her in concern. "We could go now, if you'd prefer not to wait - or do you want extra time?"

Cho stood up, shakily. "No. Let's do it now, or I may not be able to later."

They padded barefoot through the corridors, silent as ghosts. The Head Boy had told Fleur where the guest was staying - it was very near Ravenclaw Tower, as it happened. It seemed like no time at all before Cho was standing outside his door, her mouth dry and her legs quivering.

Fleur gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, and then knocked firmly on the door. She looked like she was concentrating hard, probably on bringing her Veela power to the surface.

"Hang on!" a voice called, and then the door was opened by a tall, heavyset man in his late thirties who was wearing a dressing-gown and slippers. Walter Prex looked puzzled to see them, and then, as his gaze travelled down their bodies, pleased. "I thought it was old Snape, with more of his questions, but you two look much more agreeable. Much more agreeable," he repeated. "Well, well, come in, make yourselves comfortable, why don't you?"

Fleur perched on the end of Prex's bed, stretching her long legs out, and Cho did likewise.

"Wine?" Prex said, waving a half-empty glass at them. A newly opened bottle stood on his nightstand, and a drained one lay beside it. "Great wine, Piedmont grapes, that's the south of... actually, can't remember if it's south France or north Italy, but there's this magic town that ferments these grapes, and we do pretty well for ourselves in the Ministry, I can tell you, but that man Dumbledore's got some great contacts, and this wine's one of 'em. Rare." He licked his lips, and looked at the girls. "Tasty."

"Yes, please," Cho burst out. She felt she couldn't get through the next hour without fortification.

Prex poured her a too-full glass, and handed it to her, curling his fingers around hers on the stem as she took it. She gulped down a large mouthful and almost choked.

"Now, now," Prex chided. "You should savour a wine like that. Slight little girl like you, all pretty and slim... I bet you won't have room for many more glasses."

He turned to Fleur, who was lounging elegantly on the bed, her breasts pushing at the thin material of her gown. "So, what's your name, then? Can I tempt you with a glass?"

"My name is Fleur Delacour, and I prefer not to drink."

"French, eh? Wonderful accent you've got there. Very sexy. What are you doing this side of the Channel?"

Fleur seemed so relaxed, Cho thought, watching her with horrified awe. "Improving my English."

"Oh, you sound like you can communicate with us natives pretty well." Prex laughed, and drained his glass. "Frenchwomen have quite the reputation, you know! I hope you live up to it." He winked at Fleur lasciviously.

"I always do my country proud," Fleur said, moving closer to him. He slid his hand up her thigh and turned back to Cho. "You're quiet, aren't you? Like the wine?"

"It's lovely, thank you," Cho said, taking refuge in politeness.

"You know, you don't look exactly British either. Funny eyes. Where are you from?"

"I'm Chinese. I moved here when I was quite young." Her legs were already left bare by the short gown, and Prex started to stroke them with his other hand.

"I hear there's women in China who spend all their lives learning how to pleasure men," Prex said, winking. "They make tea, and dance, and... make themselves useful... wear funny makeup, I saw a photograph once, but the... dancing, made up for it..."

"I believe it's geishas you're thinking of," Cho said, trying not to feel his eager fingers. "They're Japanese."

"Pity." He leaned over to her ear and whispered harshly, "Those girls shave the hair on the back of their head into the shape of a cunt. What do you think of that, eh?"

Cho shuddered. "I..."

"I don't know about Japanese girls," Fleur intervened, moving to sit behind Prex and wrapping her arms loosely around his chest, "but this Chinese girl looks much better with her hair longer, doesn't she?"

"Mmmm," Prex groaned in agreement. Fleur's fingers were moving in soft circles on his chest, reaching inside his dressing-gown. Cho wasn't surprised the capacity for words had deserted him.

"She's beautiful," Fleur breathed, her eyes locked on Cho's. "Look at her. Small and perfect, her skin that delicious shade... all over..." For a moment, the glazed lust in Prex's eyes seemed almost reflected in the intensity of Fleur's gaze.

Prex reached out as if to take Cho in his arms, but his hands stopped at her sides and he let his fingers stretch out across her breasts. Cho was frozen in fear, but she made herself relax into his touch. All the time, she watched Fleur, trying to see nothing but her face. If she could somehow manage to pretend that only she and Fleur were in the room, it would all be a little less awful.

"She's got a sweet little mouth," Prex said, slurring his words slightly. He leaned forward and licked Cho's lips. She tightened them in distaste, and then forced herself to return the kiss. No different from Harry, she tried to tell herself frantically, but Harry would never have touched her at the slightest sign that she was uncomfortable, would never have... assumed the way this man did, that she was there only for his pleasure.

Prex trailed across her cheek with his tongue and whispered as he licked her ear, "You can put that mouth of yours to better use, can't you? I bet I can make it worth your while..."

Fleur had heard, Cho saw, and she looked like she might intervene, but Cho knew she couldn't give her the chance. It would ruin everything.

So she knelt down beside the bed as Prex removed his dressing-gown altogether, closed her eyes, opened her mouth, and just... let it happen.

Up and down, up and down with her lips, and she knew she should be doing fantastic, seductive things with her tongue, except that there didn't seem to be room in her mouth for her tongue anymore, let alone for it to move around, but from the noises Prex was making she seemed to be doing all right. It wouldn't last long, surely.

Fleur's voice was over her head somewhere, honeyed and slick.

"It's good that you're relaxing after such a long day, Monsieur. I hope Dumbledore didn't trouble you too much?"

"Unnhh... my neck, keep doing that... no, he seems to actually have things under control for once. I'm impressed."

"I'm so glad to hear that, Monsieur... Cho and I are staying here, after all, and if you say we're in good hands, I'm sure we can trust you."

"You and little Cho?" Rough hands gripped Cho's hair and suddenly she couldn't move properly, and more importantly, she couldn't breathe... she felt sick and scared. "You'll be just fine."

"Now, now, Monsieur," Fleur said silkily, and she was behind Cho this time. "You don't want your evening to end like this, do you?"

Cho opened her eyes in shock and relief as Fleur pulled her back. Prex looked infuriated.

Without hesitation, Fleur climbed onto the bed and pushed Prex down beneath her. "You do want a night to remember, Monsieur Governor?"

Prex laughed shortly. "You're a proper little French maid, aren't you, Miss Delacour?" He gripped her thighs.

Fleur bent down over him and their faces were hidden by her stream of fair hair, but Cho could hear her say, "If you want me to be."

He hiked up the nightgown that had never really hidden her anyway, and then he pulled Fleur down onto him, hard.

"How will we be protected?" Fleur gasped harshly. "I need to know exactly."

Prex's eyes were closed. "Fidelius Charm - split between three people for better safety - ohhhh! - should work, it's the perfect spell unless the Secret-Keeper gives it up, and three of them aren't going to."

Fleur bent down and kissed him searchingly. "Who are the Secret Keepers?" She raised her head out of his reach.

"Dumbledore himself, and I'm pretty certain that Defence teacher as well, I don't know about the third, I... I..." His eyes fluttered open and he gripped Fleur's hips so hard Cho could see Fleur's eyes widen in pain. Then he let out a low moan and a smile replaced the desperate frenzy that had marked his face all through the past few minutes.

Fleur was already smoothing down her nightgown over her legs as Prex relaxed into sleep, a blissful look on his face that was almost like innocence. Cho wanted to hit him.

With an effort, she turned away from his snoring, spent body, and saw Fleur swaying slightly. She rushed over to hold her. "Fleur?".

"Don't..." Fleur said, through gritted teeth. "We need to go. He might wake up. And I don't want to be here a second longer than we have to."

Fleur took Cho's arm and half-pulled her out of the room in her haste, Cho just managing to shut the door before they hurried up the corridor. Cho wanted to run, and she could see that Fleur did, too, but they couldn't afford to make any more noise. Thank goodness their room was near - anybody could come up to them, in the corridors, anybody could ask them questions, anybody could see their bodies through their barely-there gowns... they had to get back to their room to be safe, where Fleur could become calm again and maybe Cho could too, though - right now it was hard to imagine what tranquillity could be like. It had been so long since Cho could sit in a quiet room without fear or worry assaulting her on all sides, before the past and future had eclipsed the present.

A high-pitched wail from Peeves pierced the night, and the girls' hands tightened to a death-grip as they threw themselves up the tower stairs, through the blue common room and into their bedroom.

The door closed behind them, Fleur grimaced, and tears started from her eyes. She scrubbed them away angrily, and the streaks left across her beautiful face were like the rust stains on a saint's reliquary. Cho tried to say something, but her own rising tears choked her, and as she swallowed she tasted his coarseness still in her, smeared over her tongue and pressed against the roof of her mouth.

It wasn't as if she knew what to say, anyway.

"Well, it's happened to you now," Fleur said suddenly. She raised her head and Cho felt as if those blue eyes were boring through her. "Can you take it? It will only get worse, every time. You won't get used to it."

"I know," Cho said faintly.

Fleur grabbed hold of her shoulders and almost screamed at her. "Everything you went through this time is nothing to what will come if you continue! Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Did you see what I had to do?" Fleur shook her, hard. "You will, too! I can't protect you. You'll feel a man you can't bear pulling you apart and dripping down your legs. You'll feel his lips and his dirty hands all over your body."

She pulled one hand back and stabbed a finger at herself, at a spot just above the neckline of her blue gown. "He kissed me here and licked me and whispered into my chest and all the time he was inside me, and that's not the worst of the filth I have on me now, and it shouldn't happen to you!"

Cho's head was spinning, from Fleur's sudden savagery and from the wine and from the disgust that seemed to have taken possession of her soul. "Nor you," she answered Fleur fiercely, and pressed her lips to that spot on Fleur's skin.

Fleur gasped. For a moment, she was completely still, and then she took hold of Cho more firmly, and held her against her. Cho opened her mouth and felt her teeth graze the curve of Fleur's skin - she tasted good, cool and fragrant and with the slightest trace of sweat that Cho licked up hungrily, letting it cleanse her. But if she closed her eyes, she was still back in that other room with Prex - she needed more. She had to shock him out of her system.

Fleur pulled her up and brought their mouths together harshly, and Cho opened her eyes, startled, and saw Fleur's eyes open just as widely, so close to her and staring in despair and need.

Cho gripped Fleur's waist fiercely because if they gave each other tender kisses, taking their time, everything else would have the chance to rush in and make Cho think. So she ran her hands up Fleur's body and didn't linger anywhere for more than a moment, finding new places to touch and make Fleur react, to arch into her and make her fall back, until she pushed aside the insubstantial fabric that covered Cho and brought her fingers up and gave Cho the heavenly, frightening distraction she needed. Dizzy with sensation, Cho bit Fleur softly and deeply all along her throat, hearing Fleur moan as Cho claimed her body back from Prex's touches.

Then Cho couldn't move anymore, because Fleur's fingers had set off a chain of convulsions that hurtled through her body and scorched her with a sharp, terrifying pleasure. She screamed, her hands locked around Fleur's neck, and something slipped and she fell to the ground, dragging Fleur down on top of her, and Fleur's hair was in her mouth and all around her face, and when she could think again she was kissing Fleur everywhere she could find with a desperate gratitude, and she had to make Fleur forget as she had. She pulled off Fleur's nightgown and took her with her hand, going to the root of Prex's violation and moving and moving until Fleur cried out and Cho felt the other girl's release sparking through her fingers.

They collapsed into the nearest bed together, and held each other tight and didn't look at one another, and, exhausted, soon fell asleep.

Cho left before Fleur woke the next morning.