Veela, Bighead Boys and a Few Dirty Tricks

Veela, Bighead Boys and A Few Dirty Tricks.

Fleur gazed speculatively across the room. Percy was his name. Assistant to the Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation. And here tonight in that capacity. Fleur looked at the situation logically. She looked at every situation logically. If this boy was here for one of the Tournament judges, it stood to reason that he was trusted by that same Judge.

Fleur couldn't allow herself to... influence... the male Judges. It would be wrong, and besides, there was the rather large disgusting factor. But an assistant, someone her age, well, she had no qualms about playing her game.

She turned to her date. 'Sit. Stay,' she commanded. 'Do whatever it is zat you do.'

Roger nodded amiably and picked up his glass.

After all, there was a lot at stake. Honour. Glory. Respect. Money. The Delacour family was in no way wealthy. Fleur liked to play the image, the head tosses and the nose in the air and the airs and graces, but in reality, she knew they were barely scraping by. There wasn't much work for a French half-veela. Witches wouldn't hire her mother because they were intimidated, and they wouldn't allow their husbands to hire her because they were threatened. Fleur had received a scholarship to Beauxbatons, but that wouldn't help her next year. She needed that prize money. It was her ticket to something better.

She played her image, set herself as glamorous, sophisticated, snobbish, but deep down, Fleur Delacour liked to think she was not above a few dirty tricks when they were needed.

Her heels tap-tap-tapped the last few steps as she slid into her role. A knowing smile, soft eyes, stray touches.

' 'Ello. I am Fleur. And you are Percy, are you not?'

'Yes. Percy Weasley. It's nice to meet you, Miss Delacour.'

He seemed distracted to Fleur. That would not do.

'Ah, zen my reputation 'as preceded me, 'as it?'

'What? Oh, no,' flustered was a much better sign, 'I simply know you from the Tournament, of course.'

She placed her hand over his.

'You 'ave been watching me.' It was not a question.

'I, ah, I must watch all the contestants, Miss Delacour, it's part of my job.' He slipped his hand out from under hers. She changed tack.

'I see. Did you attend school 'ere?'

'I did. My brothers and sister are still here.' He pointed to the dance floor. Fleur smiled, genuinely amused.

'Zose twins are your bruzzers?'

'Yes,' Percy said rather grumpily.

'I can see ze resemblance.' But only physically. This would be much easier on either of those two.

'Only on the surface, I hope,' Percy said, quietly and rather bitterly.

Fleur noticed, but chose not to respond. It would not help to get emotionally involved.

'And your sister?' she asked instead.

He pointed to a young girl dressed in white.

'Pretty,' Fleur said, granting her a cursory glance.

'And strong,' he murmured.

Fleur delicately took a sip from her goblet, then placed it on the table. She was getting nowhere.

'Would you like to dance?'

'With you?' Percy asked, surprised, and looking at her properly for the first time.

'Of course with me, silly,' she said, taking his hand and leading him to the floor. The music changed to a soft waltz, and they slipped easily into position.

'You are a vairy good dancer,' Fleur purred into his ear, turning up the charm. She was pleased to see him blush. She had been beginning to think he was immune to her. So many men were these days.

'Thankyou. Ah, you too,' he added, pushing up his glasses, but rather quickly placing his arm back around her waist.

She smiled and leaned in just a little closer.

'Will you be here for the Second Task?' she frowned when Percy ignored her, but quickly smoothed her face out. ("Never frown, Fleur. Never allow them to see emotion." Her golden rule.) He stiffened in her arms and stared over her shoulder.

Fleur glanced the same way and raised her eyebrows slightly. The Hogwarts Head Girl was glaring back. Clad in deep purple robes, curls spilling down her back and arms crossed over her chest, she did not look happy.

Turning back to Percy, Fleur asked 'Zat is Penelope Clearwater, yes?'

Percy nodded in confirmation.

'I like her. I 'ave studied with her.' It was true. Fleur didn't usually like other girls. Rather, they didn't usually like her. But Penelope had seemed different. It was a rare seventeen year old who was confident enough in herself to not be threatened by a Veela. Fleur knew from experience.

The vibes emanating now from Penelope were certainly threatening.

Suddenly, Fleur understood.

'She is your girlfriend, yes?'

'I thought she was,' Percy said, looking at the floor, the band, the tables, anywhere but Fleur or Penny.

'Zen why are you dancing with me?'

'You asked,' Percy said, looking at her as if she was of sub-par intelligence.

'And she did not,' Fleur concluded, feeling vaguely irritated and confused. This was supposed to be a simple charm and convert mission, not this relationship counselling thing. And if Percy wanted to dance with Penelope, why did he not just ask her?

'She bought a date,' Percy spat out with the first strong emotion Fleur had heard from him.

So what, she thought.

'So what?' she said.

'I can't just steal someone's date!' he exclaimed, looking aghast.

'Why not?' Fleur asked, smiling slightly. He was so chivalrous and genuine. It was not something she saw much of. ' 'Ave you not noticed zat I too, 'ave a date?' She waved at Roger, who, by now was on his fourth drink. She wasn't sure he even recognised her.

'Yes, but that's... that's different!'

Fleur looked at him. He flushed.

'You asked me!'

'Percy,' she whispered, leaning in close. A few extra doses of Veela charm couldn't hurt, anyway. At least she'd be remembered.

'We are going to finish zis dance, zen I am going thank you, zen you are going to go ask your girlfriend to dance. I shall distract Penelope's date.' She smiled decisively.

Percy smiled slowly. 'You'd do that?'

The music faded.

'I will do zat.' She kissed him lightly on the cheek, then sent him on his way.

Making her way over to Penny's date, she sighed. She really didn't know how she got herself involved in these things.

Oh, well, a few well placed words about Bagman's robes and Quidditch career would have him nestled comfortably in her palm.

[a/n 2] Fleur, to me, likes to think she's a cold hearted bitch, but in reality, she's not, as we see at the Second Task with her concern for Gabrielle. Just wanted to point that out before people accuse me of writing her as multi-personalitied. If that's a word.