Charms and Curses

Heads turned when the slim, strikingly beautiful young woman stepped out of the apparition point and into the blazing sunlight. Dressed in Muggle-style linen pants and a matching sleeveless top of warm golden brown, with a white scarf that covered but did not conceal her lustrous, wavy blonde hair, she had the type of majestic beauty reminiscent of Grecian goddesses, but her luminous sapphire eyes, though intelligent and seemingly confident, held a tiny glimmer of hesitation.

A bearded man whistled appreciatively as she passed, and immediately all tentativeness disappeared from her eyes as the young woman fixed the offender with a glare icy enough to freeze an erupting geyser. Shortly, she reached an inn called "The Saucy Sphinx", a sign by the door showing a picture of a winking woman/lion holding a bottle of wine in one hand. The girl strode in, and, ignoring the interested looks from the males sitting around the place, went straight up to the counter.

The elderly witch at the counter looked at the girl with a mix of sympathy and curiosity. Almeda Tesmar had worked at the Saucy Sphinx since she was a girl, serving drinks while her mother ran the counter, and in those 50 years she had seen all types come in. This girl looked like she had veela blood in her, a guess that was confirmed by the very marked interest the males in the establishment were paying her. She also was, without a doubt, NOT from anywhere close by. But Almeda voiced none of these thoughts, and simply asked the girl if she needed help with anything.

"I would like to 'ave a room for ze next few mons, pleaze. Are zere any rooms where I would 'ave peace and privacy? Eef zere eez such a room, I would like to rent eet. Put eet under ze name of Fleur Delacour." The girl replied in a modulated, accented voice.

"Certainly. Oswaldo!" At that moment, a boy of seven with a round brown face and an upturned nose popped out from the back room. "Yes, grandma?"

"Please show our guest Miss Delacour to her room upstairs." Almeda handed the boy a key, and the boy Oswaldo gave Fleur a toothy smile and a funny little bow. He said in a serious voice, "Please follow me, Miss...Dalli...Dili...Miss Pretty Lady!"

Fleur laughed softly, and levitated her trunk ahead of her as she followed the boy up the stairs to the third floor. The boy peered closely at room number after room number, finally stopping at room 320. "This is your room, Miss Pretty Lady. I hope you have a nice and enjoyable stay here at the Saucy Sphinx." He finished proudly. Fleur gave the boy a smile, a handful of Knuts for his pains, and patted him on the head. "Sank you vairy much."

Fleur Delacour had been a most stately individual once upon a time. With her part-veela heritage, she was easily one of the most beautiful girls in her school, Beauxbatons. Her parents were wealthy and she made top marks in her classes. She had been vain: justifying it with the thought that if boys were so shallow and weak to fall for her charm without her even trying it was their fault that they would end up heartbroken if she spurned their affections. She had been snobbish to others in the past, a result of being as endowed as she was with more than her share of both beauty and brains. But within the last year, she had been humbled.

She had been Beauxbatons' champion for the Triwizard Tournament. She had been competing against a slouching, sullen Bulgarian Quidditch player, a mild-mannered young man and a skinny boy of about 15! She had thought that they would be no competition at all, and had kept that attitude until the Second Task.

Beauxbatons was known for its excellent instruction in Charms, but its Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum was at best mediocre. And Fleur, satisfied with her high marks in all her other classes, had not taken the time to learn any more than the curriculum offered. Which might have turned out to be a grave mistake had the boy, the skinny, spectacled one who had somehow gotten into the tournament, had an unusually chivalrous heart. While she had been attacked by the grindylows, unable to complete her task and save her sister, Harry Potter had, to his own scores' detriment, brought her up along with his own prisoner. After that humbling but necessary lesson, Fleur had swallowed her pride entirely, and for the rest of the year, spent every available moment she had brushing up on Defense Against the Dark Arts, Ancient Runes and History of Magic, her weak areas. With furor and determination, she had hammered away at the subjects, and when she had taken the Examen Sommital de Magie, the French equivalent of the NEWTs, and she had gotten, to her surprise and satisfaction, perfect scores not only in Charms, Transfiguration and Arithmancy, but in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Ancient Runes as well. Also, with a 97% in History of Magic, a 99% in Herbology, a 94% in Magical Creatures, a 95% in Astronomy and a 96% in Potions, she had been selected by the French Ministry of Magic to represent them and work alongside the British on a very special mission.

After the end of the Triwizard Tournament last year, she had been more than a little angry at the bumbling, idiotic denials of Fudge, the English Minister of Magic, in the face of You-Know-Who's return. When the moronic little man had negated the facts that were staring him in the face, it was all that Fleur could do to not let her Veela temper get the best of her and tell Cornelius Fudge exactly what she thought he should do with himself, involving Hungarian Horntail dragons and a wand used in rather improbable ways. So when Albus Dumbledore informed Madame Maxime of various projects that they would do well to undertake, she had volunteered on the spot for this one. Several of her fellow Beauxbatons' students, seeing that their Princess was willing to go to Egypt alone and work for possibly little pay, and that their Headmistress, too, was going on an expedition for the Light Side, had also volunteered to help out. Dumbledore had thanked both her and Madame Maxime afterwards, and then had given her instructions on how to get to Egypt, what to do after getting there, and finally had sent her off telling her that he would be sending one of his most trusted wizards to work together with her on the mission.

It was now time for dinner. So far, no trusted wizards had shown up yet, but Fleur supposed that he could be waiting in the dining area downstairs. With this in mind, she left her room, locked the door with an intricate little charm that she'd learnt at Beauxbatons that would deter almost any burglar, stalker or other individual trying to break into her room, and gone downstairs.

The place was crowded. Fleur scanned the place anxiously. Many men gave her interested looks and beckoned her to join THEIR table, moneybags in hand as if to say 'Just join us for a drink, on us.' And the Fleur of the past might have agreed, and joined the handsomest man there without a second thought, rejoicing at her Veela charms. But the Fleur of today was a different individual. There was no time for flirtation and nonsense. The sooner she found her partner-to-be, the better. Then, she would be able to determine if he were indeed as competent and easy to work with as Dumbledore had implied, and then they would go from there.

But it seemed that the fates were conspiring against her today. All the tables were filled. All had men leering at her. If she wanted to have dinner at all, she would have to sit with someone. Fleur stifled a groan, then suddenly, her eyes lit up like blue stars when she saw, at a table in the corner, a tall young man with long red hair. She remembered seeing him at Hogwarts for the tournament. The big brother of that redheaded Ron Weasley who had asked her to the ball, whom she had refused because she had noticed the little daggers that the brown-haired girl had been shooting at her. Fleur was no fool when it came to reading emotions; the ability was actually magnified when one had Veela blood. And she'd been able to see that Ron and the girl, Hermione, were not the purely lighthearted platonic friends that everyone up to and including themselves thought they were. Well, the redhead with the ponytail, although a stranger, looked nice and decent enough, and besides, his family was delightful. Fleur immediately walked over towards his table.

Bill Weasley had been sent by Albus Dumbledore on a special mission. Dumbledore, aggravated and saddened that the Ministry under Fudge would not be of much help in deterring Voldemort, had sent him to Egypt to look for a particular artifact that, if found and used correctly, would be a major aid in the battle against the Dark side. He had also mentioned that there would be another person joining him on his mission, someone he had not met or worked with before, but should prove equal to the challenge. He had just arrived at the local inn for dinner, and had just finished ordering what to drink when a soft voice startled him.

"Excuze me, but are 'oo ze eldest bruzzer of Ron Weazley?"

"Yes, I'm Bill Weasley, and whom do I have the pleasure of speaking to?" Bill had looked up when the odd question had hit his ears to see the most radiantly beautiful woman he'd ever met in his entire life. Slim and elegant, blonde and blue-eyed, the woman looked to be in her late teens or early twenties. She looked vaguely familiar.

"Ah, 'ow rude of me. My name is Fleur Delacour. I met your bruzzer at ze Triwizard Ceremony last year."

"Ah, okay. Here, take a seat." Bill gave the young woman an easy smile and gestured the seat across from him. Fleur sat down and smiled back at him.

"Sank you, Mistair Weasley."

"Call me Bill. I'm about to have dinner. I'm assuming that you are here for the same reason."

"Oui. Would eet be too much trouble eef I ate wis 'oo? Zese men 'ere are way too susceptible to Veela charms."

"No, not at all." So the girl had Veela blood in her. Quite odd, seeing as to how she seemed almost apologetic about it, rather than flaunting it off. "So, I gather that you're from France."

"Oui, I went to Beauxbatons Academy. I would be correct in assuming that 'oo were a student at 'ogwarts, is zat right?"

"Yes, that's right. I graduated a few years ago, though. I've been working in Egypt since. Is this your first time here, in Egypt?"

Fleur nodded, "Eet seems fascinating, but I am sure 'oo understand it is razzer intimidating as well to come to a new land, but Egypt seems vairy interesting, and I am sure zat my experiences 'ere shall be très excitant."

Their food soon arrived, and the two fell to a spirited discussion of Egypt, magic in general, and various spells and things they'd learnt, comparing the two Wizarding schools. Bill smiled to himself as the blonde talked eagerly about the different charms that she'd learnt, slim white hands flying in front of her as she gesticulated. Her earnest yet enthusiastic manner of speaking reminded Bill of Hermione Granger, the Muggleborn witch friend of his brother Ron. By the time dinner was over, the two were fast friends.

"Well, eet 'as been a pleasure to meet 'oo. But I must retire for zis evening, I have some razzer important work to do tomorrow. 'ope to see you around later." She proferred a slender hand.

Bill shook it warmly, then surprised her by laying a gentle kiss on her knuckles. "Yes, same here, I've a big day ahead of me. It was a pleasure, Miss Delacour."

"Oh, pleaze call me Fleur."

"Fleur, then. Anyway, I better get going. If you want to get together sometime, or if you need any help here in Egypt, send me an owl, okay?"

"Oui, sank 'oo again. I will." Fleur gave him a dazzling smile, veela charm making him blush slightly, and strode away out of the dining room towards the stairs."

Bill watched the graceful young woman leave. 'Well, that had been interesting. Not a bad end to a long day, Weasley.' It was too bad that the times were so tough. Business before pleasure, and he had a mission for Dumbledore to complete. If the lovely Fleur Delacour would stay in Egypt for the entire duration of the mission...he shrugged. Bill certainly was not a stranger to flirtation, but the part-veela intrigued him. If only for her lack of emphasis on using her veela powers. And she was smart. And charming. It was indeed too bad that he really didn't have time to pursue a romance with someone like her at this time.

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