Secret of the Male Veela

Rating: M for lime, petting, allusions to sex and bloodshed. NO SMUT for this chapter. Sorry.

Posted: 4/23/2006
Betas: Yogert, Lord Sivart

A big thanks to the newest member of the beta team, Lord Sivart. He has been simply awesome in providing me with insights and in being a sound board for all my ideas. Kudos to him!

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Chapter 12: Veela Deceptions

“Reducto!”

“Stupefy!” The target effortlessly danced around the first spell and absorbed the second one head on, shrugging off its effect.

This being the first time he had actually seen his lovers dueling, Harry was reasonably impressed. Given their natural air of aristocratic importance, he had initially held his French bedmates’ ability to defend themselves in suspect. Five minutes of watching them duel, however, put Harry much at ease. Either because of their greater age and experience or because of whatever training they received in France, Fleur and Regine were clearly more than adequately able to defend themselves. But it was also clear that they were outmatched by the woman who they were ranked against. Tall and agile, the woman gracefully weaved in and out of the firing range of the two like a ballet dancer.

“Who is that?” The male veela questioned, speculatively watching the unknown veela, who also had a crown of shockingly white hair like Lavender and the veela royalty. From her cheerful and relaxed composure as compared to the flushed and angry faces of her opponents, Harry would guess she was subtly taunting them into ever more reckless, frantic and uncoordinated attacks.

“That would be la Comtesse Blanche Belladonna de Noire. She is our senior military commander and the most experienced duelist we have.” The veela royalty answered.

“She killed two ancients at the same time once.” The Matriarch added.

“That too.” Princess Violette acknowledged with grudging respect.

Harry’s eyebrows immediately arched upwards in a rather comical fashion. Powerful, super fast even for a vampire and unbelievably crafty and cunning, ancients represented the cream of the crop of those undead who survived the cruelest tests undead existence and time had to offer. Usually hundreds if not thousands of years old, with a belt full of combat experience and a host of acquired special abilities and immunities, ancients were notoriously hard to kill. The male veela suddenly felt really, really bad for his lovers.

The white haired veela played with her opponents for another ten minutes. Occasionally, she tossed in a weak jinx to annoy them, but mostly just dancing away from incoming fire. Harry frowned at the lack of coordination between his girls. With the way the fight was going, their opponent could end the fight at any moment. And she did just that when Fleur moved too close to utter a rather vicious and semi-dark curse.

“Oblido Maximus!” Closing the gap between them with astonishing speed, the comtesse grabbed the Delacour girl’s wand arm twisted it sideways so that it was pointing at her friend when she finished uttering the curse. The blue-eyed blonde desperately tried to dodge the unexpected friendly fire, but just wasn’t quick enough. The curse smashed against her right shoulder, sending the girl crashing into the ground screaming in pain. Completely dumbfounded, Fleur stood like a dummy as her opponent’s hand delivered the coup de grace chop against her solar plexus in the very next moment.

“Shit!” Harry was all but running by then; his wand drawn and raised to exact vengeance against this bitch.

“Intercido!” The purple light rocketed towards the enemy at an unbelievable speed. The white haired woman was only saved from being blown to pieces by her equally quick reflexes. But Harry had successfully forced back the veela, who seemed unwilling to retaliate.

Harry’s mind flicked to an old memory of a much younger Riddle casting an obscure curse that set aflame half a dozen men. The young green-eyed warrior acted instantly; the incantation for the deadly spell rolled off of his tongue without missing a beat.

“Concremo Plurimus!” But due to either a lack of practice and/or control, the spell only unleashed a medium sized volley of firebombs instead of carpeting the entire area with orange flames. Still the curse was very powerful and laid a series of flaming projectiles in a concentric pattern from front to back that made it hard for the veela to avoid being hit.

‘Gotcha!’ was Harry’s first thought. But then the target back flipped into the air, sprouting several sets of feathery, angelic white wings. The creature took to the air; easily flying over the attacks, which devastated the smooth marble tiles, she stood on just moments earlier.

Harry tightened his hold on his wand. The veela’s controlled bird transformation was difficult enough when the veela was standing upright and usually took half a minute. For this veela to have been able to do it in midair, in the middle of a rotating flip and under three seconds… That was way more than just impressive. Harry shifted his weight to the balls of his heels, preparing to launch another attack. But the slight lull in battle was enough for an outside voice to get through.

“Harry! STOP!” Lavender’s cry shook Harry out of his daze to see that several veela had gathered to tend to the wounded human girl. The veela combatant, floating in a defensive position kept her distance until he dropped his attack stance. Shaking his head clear, Harry fought down the primal urge to leap forward to protect what was his. Reason told him that it was an accident and given that his understanding of the magical healing magic was currently mediocre at best, it was probably best that he just remained calm. He did, however, pull a revived Fleur away as she was babbling incoherently at her friend, who was still withering on the ground in pain, and generally obstructing others.

“It’s ok, Fleur. It’s not your fault. Regine is going to be all right. They’ll fix her.” He stated, stroking the distraught girl.

“Her superficial wounds have been cleaned, but her shoulder blade is split in at least two places.” Indeed, Regine’s entire right shoulder was a mass of purple with two small jagged red spots, where it looked like shards of the bone had pierced the skin.

“Une guérisseuse, vite!” The Matriarch called out. One of her guards immediately rushed out, but the serious looking Lavender shook her head.

“Take too long. Hold her still. I’ll offer some of my blood.” Caught up in the moment and curious about what his classmate meant, Harry missed the flash of displeasure that appeared on Comtesse de Noire’s face.

Lavender calmly drew forth a purple, jagged dagger and made a semi-deep slit in her wrist. Displaying only the slightest of winces, she pressed her wrist against the purplish region of Regine’s shoulder. A golden light surrounded the sick looking wound while Lavender chanted a few chosen words. Seconds later, the shoulder bone was made whole and the surrounding skin was returned to a golden ripe color. The formerly wounded girl looked at her completely healed limb with astonishment.

“Unbelievable!” Crouching down, Harry gingerly examined his consort’s arm. Sure, Thanatos mentioned this, but seeing the miraculous powers of a pure veela’s blood was another thing. By all accounts, pure veela blood and phoenix tears healed by the same principle, with the one prerequisite that phoenix tears had to be willingly shed.

‘Where as veela blood works whether willingly shed or not.’ A quick scan of the room showed him that some of the other veela were not pleased with what Lavender had done. And perhaps for good reason. If news of this little fact ever makes it into the open...

Harry rushed over to his girls to give them hugs and kisses before turning his attention back towards his veela classmate. He looked at the bloodied blade Lavender was holding with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. The jagged edges, coupled with the red blood on dark purple coloring gave it a distinctively sinister look. The young veela, however, wielded it with ease; cleaning it with two swipes before sheathing it somewhere on her thigh.

“You always carry that around?” Harry asked. Lavender hesitated for but a moment before answering.

“Bien sur.”

“Even while at Hogwarts?” A single nod.

“Trade secret.” Harry nodded, deciding to defer further questions until another time as the hovering Veela guided down.

“Je suis désolée. We were simply having a friendly duel.” The revered Comtesse de Noire calmly explained.

“It’s alright, your… ladyship. In fact I should apologize to you for my aggressive stance. I reacted on instinct when Regine was hurt.” Harry winced as he looked at the demolished marble tiles.

“Quite understandable, though you might want to inform your girls to be more careful of friendly fire next time.” There was something not entirely pleasant in the comtesse’s tone of voice. The girls, who were comforting each other, took on dark expressions, clearly taking offense to the fact that the older woman had refused to address their short comings directly.

“I’ll take that into consideration.” Harry flashed both of his girls a semi-stern look. The two backed down, slinking away with slightly lowered heads. Anger gave way to shame, shame at having been bested in such a humiliating fashion before their lover, lord and master. The male veela’s features, however, immediately softened. While Harry can’t say he was pleased with their performance, they had faired quite well against a very powerful foe and he definitely didn’t want to make them feel bad for that.

“It’s ok.” He cooed reassuringly, pulling Regine to him and pressing his forehead against hers. The older girl sighed in comfort, allowing herself to be pulled into the male veela’s loving embrace. Wrapping his free arm around Fleur, Harry held both girls affectionately against his chest for the next two minutes. When they separated, all three were feeling a whole lot better.

“Harry Potter…”

“Comtesse Blanche Belladonna de Noire, my lord. I trust that your journey was not too unpleasant.” The veela nodded courteously once before standing tall again, holding herself with awe inspiring grace, poise and an air of majesty. Harry nodded in kind, being very careful to keep an eye on the powerful woman in front of him. No matter how easy she was on the eyes, here was someone one should always be wary of.

“Not too much.”

“Very good.” Dropping her voice an octave lower, the veela aristocrat leaned forward and spoke in a husky voice. “I look forward to our first time together.”

To his credit, Harry did not react physically, but his head did turn to look questioningly at Lavender. His veela of a classmate only gave him a half smile, half shrug.

“The comtesse is also the head of your chosen seven. In fact, she was largely responsible for selecting the other candidates.” Fleur and Regine bristled with obvious though not overt displeasure. But they weren’t the only ones uncomfortable with the arrangement. Harry looked hard at the gorgeous busty Nordic beauty. Hormonal teenagers were one thing, mature nympho veela that radiated sexuality like the one before him were clearly something else. On a whim, he tried superficially probing her.

‘No luck.’ Apparently Fleur was correct; veela were natural occlumens, though he couldn’t be sure. While being fairly competent (to the best of his knowledge) in the art of occlumency, Harry knew he wasn’t nearly as proficient in the field of legilimency.

“Would you like to meet the rest of the girls, my lord?”

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Harry Potter closed the door behind him leaving him alone with his two currently bonded ladies. The meeting with his potential veela mates had given him some interesting food for thought.

The remaining five girls were all half blood veela and veritable angels on their own: Each had the trademark silvery blonde hair, the slim, athletic figure, coupled with balanced curves and topped with well proportioned, perky breasts. But what had really surprised Harry was when he was told that there was an age difference of almost ten years between the youngest and oldest. Considering that not a single one of them looked a day over 18, Harry had been somewhat fearful of the age of the youngest veela.

“The youngest of the five is 16.” Harry was pretty sure Lavender had laughed at his audible sigh of relief.

“… Biological fixation, also called pseudo-elf life is the biological process in which a veela’s physical and anatomical features as well as her sex drive are statically conditioned for a number of years to remain in a relatively youthful and hyperactive state. The exact time span and the age of fixation vary from veela to veela.”

Harry chuckled. Apparently a normal part veela could expect to live the life of a 17 or 18 year old for at least a decade. With biological advantages like that, no wonder other females aren’t generally fond of veela.

“Are you alright, ‘arry?”

“Yeah, just thinking. I should be asking you that.” In light of his atrocious behavior – most particularly, kissing, fondling and generally getting chummy with his classmate, all in front of Fleur – Harry was pretty much expecting the worst.

But Fleur was far different from the image of the angry, scorned lover Harry had pictured. In fact, she looked very demure and downright unsure of herself.

“We are if you are, ‘arry.” She answered after a pause.

Fleur’s response wasn’t what he was expecting; far too diplomatic, almost as if she was afraid of setting him off. But wasn’t he the one who wronged her and Regine? Whatever it was, Harry knew instinctively that he should do something or say something at least.

“I missed you girls.” Harry acknowledged at long last; his arms stretched outwards in an apologetic but hopeful manner. If not ‘the’ right answer, it was definitely one of the better ones. The two girls looked at one another, made a noise that sounded like a cross between squealing and crying and leaped into Harry’s embrace to attack him with kisses.

The grateful young man flooded the bond link he shared with his two girls with feelings of love and warmth. The two French girls sighed happily before reciprocating in kind, enveloping him and each other in a three way hug. Harry was amazed when he sensed the girls’ naked want crashing over him in waves. Suddenly, he recognized what it was that Fleur was feeling. She was hurt; he had hurt her and Regine when he had ignored them by turning his attention towards the other sexy veela. And now, they wanted assurances; assurances that these veela won’t come in between them.

“I’m sorry.” Harry apologized in a whisper, vowing to himself to make it up to them, especially Fleur.

Wasting no time, he pulled a surprised but unresisting Fleur into a sizzling French kiss while lightly playing with Regine’s stiff nipples through her shirt. Within minutes, Harry had both of his ladies withering and moaning with wanton lust. Their tongues dueled one another ravenously for supremacy while their hands wandered over and under each other’s clothes, fervently seeking and then stimulating each other’s pleasure nodes.

It was Regine who gave out first; her legs buckled and her body pulsed with spasms of pure pleasure as the combined ministrations of her lovers sent her crashing over the edge. Only Harry’s quick reaction saved the satiated girl from dropping onto the ground like a sack of potatoes. Gently the male veela lowered his human lover onto the ground in what proved to be a cumbersome operation as a feisty veela had refused to let go.

“C’est si bon.” Regine cooed in delight. Harry only managed a grunt in response. For some reason, Fleur seemed intent on making him shoot a wad in his pants.

‘Must stop before … get out of hand!’

“Fleur, stop!” The forceful command finally froze the girl, giving Harry the opportunity to extricate Fleur’s hand from beneath his pants.

“Later, I promise. But not now.” He added upon seeing Fleur’s slightly downtrodden expression. Harry’s reassurance coupled with the way his fingers was sensually digging deep into her luscious blonde mane soundly defeated whatever protests she had mustered. Repeating with the still half dazed Regine, the male veela soon grinned in triumph as the two girls affectionately nuzzled his cheeks.

It was a few minutes before they quelled their runaway passions and regained their bearings. At which time, Harry dropped the bombshell.

“So, about these seven veela…”

The simple solution, for the three of them, was to drop out of this deal. Whatever Fleur might say to the contrary, Harry knew in the heart of his heart that she was extremely jealous of the veela. That was saying something given how open the part veela seemed to be on the other girls he could knock boots with. Regine, on the other hand, was much more forthcoming with her viewpoints as she ranted rapidly and heatedly in her native tongue. While Harry was not yet fluent in French, the French words for “harlots,” “whores,” and something roughly “go back to the slums of Marseilles” made the meaning of her soliloquy loud and clear to him.

An amused Fleur took the opportunity to fill Harry in. Apparently, the veela had been more than a little cool in their reception of his girls. Regine took major exception to this and took it straight to the prima donna of the whole show, Comtesse Blanche Belladonna de Noire. In retrospect, it was a very foolish venture as the veela, more or less, told the human girl to buzz off. One thing led to another and ended, of course, in the rather spectacular defeat of both girls by the comtesse.

Fleur seemed abnormally hung up over their defeat at the hands of the more experienced dueler, but Harry wasn’t sure why or what he could do about it. He commented that these veela could have behaved better.

‘Or at least didn’t come on me like a freight train.’

“Veela are very aggressive when it comez to someone they want. They want you, ‘arry; I can feel it. And because of zat they see us az rivalz in the battle for you affection. La Comtesse sensed Regine’z jealousy and used it against ‘er.”

“Is that what Lavender did? I’m not making excuses, but I don’t think I was completely in control.”

‘Actually, I doubt I have been in control since coming here.’ Thought the male veela grudgingly. It was strange in an uncomfortable kind of way. Since becoming a male veela, he wasn’t used to not being in control, especially when dealing with the opposite sex in a sexual sense.

Fleur then reacted in the most inexplicable manner, of course. She actually laughed, and not in a polite, cutesy manner but in a bellyful way that made her drop to her feet. Most inappropriate, but quite heart warming and funny.

“I ztill remember ze day when Maman complimented me in ze most peculiar fashion. She said zat I would never ‘av problem stilling a man’z heart from another girl... except if zat girl waz a pure veela. In which case, she advised zat I stay far away. I did not comprehend what she meant until now.”

Harry couldn’t help but wonder what kind of a mother would praise her daughter’s beauty by saying she can steal any girl’s man. ‘A veela mother apparently.’

“Why’s that?”

“Because Fleur darling, you would certainly fail where az ze other veela might try to steal your love interest in which case she would definitely succeed. Une Haute Veela always gets her man. Zat waz what she said. I guess even a male veela could be affected. I don’t blame you for… what ‘appened back zere.”

‘Oh, that’s good to hear.’ Harry sighed in relief.

“It waz your right after all. The veela are yourz.”

‘Oh, that doesn’t sound as good.’

“Is that what you are afraid of? That these veela would steal me away from you if you didn’t agree?” Now that seemed to make sense and it made Harry feel very, very pissed. Like hell, he was going to let them threaten and intimidate his girls. Fleur, however, seemed unsure how to answer that.

“Yes.” Harry and Fleur turned to see a grim looking Regine, who appeared to have been listening in on their conversation for some time.

“Impossible. You are both bonded to me and I’m positive you are, indeed, my alpha, Fleur.” Answered the male veela with absolute confidence. Having double checked Thanatos’s notes, he was about as sure as he can be.

“Mais, we never performed ze bonding ceremony or…” He shushed his skeptical lover by dropping to his knees and sealing her mouth with a quick kiss.

“Tell you what. We can have one as soon as we get out of here to settle this once for all. But I assure you, they could no more dislodge either you or Regine from me than … I can make the sun rise.” Of course, Harry had no way of knowing at this point that there might exist those that think he can do just that.

He gave the two French girls a few minutes to think before coming to what he thought was the logical conclusion.

“We are done here then. Neither of you like this, they are grabby, and you both know I definitely don’t need seven more veela to be happy.” Stated Harry without regret. In fact, saying that made the young man feel a lot better; kind of make him wonder why he hadn’t just said that in the beginning.

“So can we leave then?” Regine asked just to be sure, her voice filled with undisguised eagerness.

The Beauxbatons prefect was, apparently, not as open as she had claimed at the end of that memorable threesome where she laid consumed in the lovey, dovey afterglow of great sex. While open and accepting in principle to Harry’s effective need to sleep around, her inherent insecurity reared its head in the kinds of girls she felt comfortable sharing him with. Ideally, these girls would be several cup sizes below her and several weight classes above her. So… seven beautiful veela who blew Fleur, much less her, out of the water in the looks department, didn’t exactly fit in her ‘girls allowed to shag Harry’ category.

Fleur personally thought that her friend’s excessive possessive streak would lead her into trouble once his harem got larger; but here and now, Harry thought that it was all very endearing. After all the fun and games were over, it was very nice to know that someone wanted him for keeps. Besides, plenty of other fishes in the sea, right? Harry gave the blonde girl an acknowledging smile causing her to squeal in excitement. Her crystal blue eyes danced with mirth while vividly flashing him a ‘someone is going to get lucky’ sign.

But as the exuberant Regine was ‘helping Harry get up’ when Fleur’s voice ringed out. In contrast to her cheerful friend, the part veela grew solemn after Harry’s proclamation. Being her love’s alpha was exactly what she had hoped for, but the moment it was confirmed, it also changed how she now looked the world.

“Non… we can’t leave. ‘arry can’t leave, Regine.” The part veela enunciated each word in the last sentence clearly while facing her friend.

‘What?’ Harry was confused, but Regine, apparently, was not as confused.

“Excusez-moi, Fleur?” The human girl questioned with a darkening expression. She rose so rapidly that Harry would have fallen unceremoniously on his rear had it not been for his quick reflexes.

“‘arry needz them. We can’t leave.” Fleur repeated.

And so Harry was treated to the sight of the first intra-harem verbal dispute between his girls. And of all the powers being male veela granted him, arbitrating proto catfights clearly wasn’t one of them. Not only was the context of the dispute utterly inane – from his perspective – the girls jumped topics faster than they ever jumped his boner. So within 20 seconds, Harry was, for all practical purposes, immobilized by a splitting headache.

“Arrete! Je t’aime comme une soeur, Regine! But, you need to stop being so selfish.” The girl in question bristled in anger at the callous remark, but the sharp-tongued older Delacour girl didn’t give her friend a chance to respond. Fleur then seemed to suddenly acquire an unholy glow.

“You think I never desired ‘arry for myzelf?! You think zat part of me waz not boiling with jealous rage every time ‘e smiled at you, every time ‘e kissed you, every time ‘e fondled you and every time ‘e fucked you? Did you really think zat you are ze only best friend a girl ever ‘ad? ‘ow many girlz ‘av female best friendz and ‘ow many of them do you think share their boyfriends or lovers or husbands wiz those girlfriendz?” The part veela’s powerful and thundering words reverberated through the room. Regine was visibly shaken and feeling vaguely like a dumb blonde.

“I, I… but I thought you said veela…”

“I’m quarter veela and three quarters human.”

Her friend had nothing to say to that and Fleur was finished. Her mystical glow diminished and she slumped backwards as if losing whatever force of will that compelled her to speak her mind.

Regine walked over and hesitantly wrapped her friend in a hug; Her angry countenance utterly shattered by her friend’s confession and replaced with genuine concern and remorse. Minutes ago, the two girls were locked in heated arguments, just a hair shy from raining blows on each other; now the two were embracing and caressing each other like long lost lovers.

Taking the prudent choice to not overanalyze, Harry instead was focused on how was it that he never even sensed an inkling of such emotions from the part veela.

“How come you never said anything?” The question seemed to have genuinely surprised Fleur and forced her to dig deep in herself to find an answer.

“It waz not that bad, really. And being with you more than made up for it…”

“Fleur!” Harry called, giving her an insisting look.

“I think because it waz something master would not have wanted to know.” The reply was short, crisp and candid.

“Sometimes what is wanted is not what is needed…”

‘She hid those emotions even from herself.’ How peculiar, yet also sad and quite horrible. What it must have been like, what it must have took for one to repress a part of oneself so thoroughly that one did not even realize it. The male veela felt his stomach turn in a most uncomfortable manner.

“‘arry…”

“‘arry…”

“LOVER BOY!” That was Regine after Fleur was unsuccessful in getting their mutual lover’s attention.

‘What?!’ Harry frowned wearily at his two madly giggling girls.

“We can’t leave, ‘arry.”

“Why not?” Given what Fleur just revealed, Harry wasn’t sure he really was in the mood anymore no matter how many veela they threw at him and no matter how much veela hormones they pumped into the air. But was that a good thing or a bad thing?

“Because you want to do thingz, achieve thingz, accomplish thingz, ‘arry. It iz who you are. But you are going to need professional ‘elp to do all zat. Do you think you can do a fraction of the thingz you said at Hogwarts alone? You also happen to be underage which makez it difficult to do anything formal unless you have alliez in ‘igh placez. The veela are offering to give you all zat and to protect us.” Noted Fleur with furrowed eyebrows and speaking the poise and seriousness of a statesman.

Harry blinked, once, twice, three times. At long last, the male veela let out an exhaustive sigh. His love was… right. For all his knowledge and fanciful dreams Thanatos filled his head with, he currently had no resources of his own. Heck, he effectively severed the link with possibly the only moderately pro-Potter faction at home because its leader was a manipulative, senile coot. And then he was 14 years old to boot. The young man gave the older girl who told him this a look bordering between disbelief and awe.

“I am your Alpha, non? It iz my duty to look after such thingz.” This was definitely unexpected, but there was something that made him feel a little better. Given the utilitarian nature of the act, it would really be just sex? Most likely good sex given the participants involved, but it would still lack that special something ‘his’ girls had.

“…And you are sure you do not wish one of those veela to be your Alpha?”

“No.” Was Harry’s immediate answer.

“… Not even your classmate?”

“No.”

“… She iz very beautiful.” Very true, Harry had to admit. He was somewhat amazed that he didn’t notice even after his veela transformation at the end of the year. But seriously…

“Merlin, if you ask me one more time, I’m spreading you over my lap, little missy.” His little tease was answered with a delightful set of giggles.

“Hmm… Iz zat a promise?” Harry ignored his laughing alpha, turning to the other smiling blonde next to her.

“What about you, Regine? What do you think?”

The blonde girl looked at Harry, then looked her friend and then back at Harry.

“I will full heartedly accept and support my master and his Alpha’s decision whatever it may be.”

“Good answer, but your opinion would be more helpful here.”

“Alright then. Fleur was right. She explained to me what you need to do but still I have been selfish. For that I humbly seek your forgiveness, my lord.” Without further ado, the Beauxbatons prefect sank to her knees, placing her face mere centimeters away from Harry’s crotch.

“eh, ah…” The sudden spike of hormones effectively short circuited the male’s oratory and cognitive capacities. The girls intended to take full advantage of this. After all, it really wasn’t normal for one to catch the male veela in such a manner.

“May I, mistress?” Harry vaguely recall a Fleur smiling nodding before he felt his pants being ripped from him.

“They might ‘av their chance wiz you, but I want them to remind exactly who came before them.”

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Fleur and Regine caused quite a scene when they walked out with frizzled wet clothes, messed up hair with spots of milky white substances and radiant grins like cats that ate the canary. While the other veela were mostly surprised and aroused by Harry’s scent, Comtesse de Noire took it to be a personal challenge. The highborn spared no effort in trying to rile both of Harry’s girls up with carefully worded French barbs insulting amongst other things: their parents, lineage, character, hygienic habits, anatomical features, mating preferences and procreation capabilities. Coupled with disagreements over who would be present during the male veela’s introductory session with the French veela – Fleur and Regine were adamant that they be present, while the comtesse was just as adamant that they weren’t – the whole thing was almost called off.

Funny thing how some of the most influential veela present might have preferred that outcome (unconsciously at least) even though verbally they claimed otherwise. Lavender never ceased having second thoughts and she knew both the Matriarch and the Princess shared some of her misgivings. She could lay the blame on her friend, for giving the comtesse’s scheme even her reluctant approval. But she knew better; she knew how much the Princess had vexed over her decision and not just out of fear of precipitating a civil war with the comtesse.

But it was more than that. Where as Lavender knew she had the privilege of being a follower, the Princess, on the other hand, was a leader, the leader. Her stately duties required her to look above the individuals and towards the strategic goals of the French.

It was in this context that Harry Potter walked in as the legendary male veela, a creature which the world had not seen for a thousand years. Screw Boy-Who-Lived; think Boy-Who-Would-Rule-All. And even that comparison was still weak. To a veela like the comtesse, it was as if the powers that be had gifted them with a god or at least a messiah.

“We shall have what is ours by right, consensually if possible, but coercively if necessary.” That was her exact argument; succinct and crisp as always, but not without merit.

To the veela and other non human populations, Harry did represent a very powerful symbol and even more valuable prize. In which case, wouldn’t it be better for them, the French veela, to ‘make’ this male veela theirs than to let other less savory groups get their claws on him? Lavender knew this sort of ‘either us or them’ moral rationalization very well and she didn’t like it one bit. But then, neither did she have a political and strategic duty to her people. And she wouldn’t be the one held responsible should something bad happen to the male veela. It was times like this that Lavender realized how much more difficult the Princess’s job was.

None of this would have mattered had Harry just left. The comtesse’s plan depended on the male veela being sufficiently sexually drained and physically exhausted. If he had simply walked away, the veela would have had to let him go. No way were they going to risk a frontal assault on a male veela when he had two bonded at his side.

But as luck - or lack of it - would have it, Fleur and Regine eventually yielded and were led away into two of the smaller bedchambers by two of the veela. The Matriarch, the veela princess and their escorts quickly made their exit, leaving the male veela with the five remaining veela, who wasted no time in ushering him towards the nearest bedchamber.

“Aconit, you are acquainted with our lord, are you not? Why don’t you go first? We’ll give you some privacy.” Lavender held back the scowl she wanted to give her superior. Though a superficially generous and selfless suggestion, the comtesse’s intension was anything but. Lavender knew that the only reason she was going first was so she could alleviate Harry’s anxiety and indeed whatever lingering suspicion he may had. And separated from his loyally bonded mates, the strenuous physical exertions would undermine what remained of Harry’s defenses. A diabolic scheme indeed.

“Aconit? You’re named after a poisonous flower?” Harry thought that was rather strange. Whoever knew being singled out by Snape on the first day of school would come in handy in remembering things. Lavender only smiled grimly in return.

“I’ll explain it some other day. But right now, I’m dying to find out what was it that made that Delacour girl glow.” The white-blonde haired veela grinned, batting her eyelashes coquettishly. It was on one hand so reminiscent of the Lavender Brown he knew, but on the hand also so very not because Lavender was never, ever, quite that sexy no matter how much she tried.

“Everybody noticed and all of us girls knew it had to have come from a guy. Arguments and speculations of who it was ran back and forth in the loo rooms from dawn to dusk; it was that tanned muscled 7th year Gryffindor one argued, it was the cheeky sly 6th year from Slytherin, it was the smart and well cut Ravenclaw prefect she went to the ball with…” Harry instinctively scowled at the mention of Roger Davies.

“... There were very few who actually thought this, especially as time went on. The most talked about a candidate, though, was that famous, dashing, up-and-coming playboy and completely unattainable Gryffindor seeker, Britain’s very own Boy-Who-Lived.” Lavender’s grin became simply lecherous at this point. To his enormous credit, Harry did not blush, but neither did he resist as the veela divested him of his outer robes.

Harry’s mind was turning and something just clicked.

“You were there. You were always there in the common room working with Parvati on your divination homework.” The blonde girl gave him a conspirator’s wink.

“You always came back each night looking a bit different from when you left. It wasn’t hard to figure out. But I definitely wasn’t the only one. More than a few connected your newfound boldness with girls with your close friendship with the Beauxbatons champion and came to the logical conclusion.”

Sensing Harry’s follow up question, Lavender added, “The only reason they said nothing was because they were terrified that they might be right. The boy of their childhood dreams was now the boy of their wet dreams; they definitely weren’t fond of the prospect of competing against a veela, or even a part veela. As long as you and Fleur weren’t being obvious, the girls were quite willing to ignore what their intuition was telling them.”

“Oh and there the occasional instances where best friends duke it out right on the bathroom floors after finding out that they both nursed some hidden crush over you. I saw three myself personally.”

‘Wow!’ Harry wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t think it was THIS bad.

“Parvati and Padma, were they…” Lavender laughed lightly.

“I didn’t see, but most likely. Parvati was very, very pissed when she saw you and Padma having small talks.” Harry winced. Now this was something he did truly feel bad about. From what he sensed, two sisters had a pretty close bond despite being in different houses. He should fix that as soon as possible.

“You sure know how to do your thing, Romeo. But I sense that you have since become better accustomed to controlling your new powers.”

“Oh? You can sense my powers? Can you block it as well?”

‘Shit!’ Lavender couldn’t believe she let it slip. But the eloquent veela managed to quickly improvise.

“Part of it. After all, I’m a veela as well.”

“But… even Fleur still have problem doing that and she’s my bonded.” This was a can of worms Lavender definitely didn’t want to open. Luckily for her, she had managed to maneuver Harry onto the extra large, extra king-sized mattress and had already deftly disrobed herself and her prey.

As soon as the veela pressed her naked torso against Harry’s equally naked one, every semi-coherent thought he had vanished without a trace. At that moment, the only thought Harry had was why the hell did he not partake in experiencing the wonderful nubile flesh of the fairer sex until his metamorphosis. Several sets of hands and mouths suddenly appeared on scene. Clearly the others were tired of waiting.

For one moment, a flash of worry did cross Harry’s mind. Five females were two less than seven, but still three more than what he ever had to deal with. But by then, his hormones were in full swing. His brief spark of hesitancy was overwhelmingly crushed by his primal alpha urges, which screamed just one thing.

‘Bring it on!’

For Lavender, a similar kind of ‘live for today’ mentality also took hold in her, but with a much more foreboding edge.

What was it that Julius Caesar said as he crossed the Rubicon in 49 BC, ‘Alea iacta est’. Seemingly out of place, does it not that some like Lavender would know such a quote; her schoolmates would definitely think so. But what do they know. The quote was in fact quite appropriate… on several levels for a veela who, though in the process of losing her physical virginity, was no virgin to combat.

The die had been cast indeed. Things definitely weren’t going to be the same after today, for better and for worse or for worse and more worse in Lavender’s case. She was not naïve enough to think this affair could end happily. But even so, the veela had no intention of letting that bleak thought ruin this once in a life time experience, no way, no how. Lavender was going to live out at least a piece of that little fantasy every little girl had at some point or another; you know, the one of kissing or being kissed by Prince Charming. This was kind of like that… except with a definite adult twist.

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“Wonderful, was it not?”

Blanche’s cold azure eyes stared emotionlessly into Lavender’s own bright hazel ones.

“This changed nothing.”

The younger veela couldn’t help but smirk at the less than optimal enthusiasm found in the elder veela’s tone. While no virgin, neither was the virtual militant feminist taken to playing across the field. By the way her ample bosoms were poking holes through the thin vest she donned, Lavender knew the experience must have affected the comtesse at least as much as it had affected herself.

Suddenly, a loud squeal from a dainty little veela by the name of Guinevere drew the attention of both pure veela. The last of the five to take her turn, the playful 19-year-old teen was trying to make the still very virile male veela work for it. Yep, Harry was a beast all right.

While letting her superior stew, Lavender focused her attention on Harry’s last very frisky bedmate. She thought it rather strange for such a happy and carefree girl to be mixed up in all of this. Sure, she herself squealed and swooned with Parvati, but that was really more for show. Gwen, however, was genuine. She was different. As far as Lavender knew, Gwen was not born within one of the secluded veela enclaves or even a veela family for that matters. Instead, she was the elder daughter of a mixed, but prosperous and well respected, wizarding and muggle family. Like many young veela, Gwen was ill-suited to live a human witch’s life. After a near disastrous first year at Beauxbatons, she was transferred to the all veela academy near Strasbourg, where her keen intellect, scholastic achievements and athletic tenacity later garnered the attention of Comtesse de Noire. Unwaveringly faithful and loyal, Gwen really was ‘the’ poster girl of the kind of veela people like the comtesse wanted to nurture.

But Lavender couldn’t help but feel a bit sad whenever she looked at the smiling girl three years her senior. Was ignorance really bliss? Apparently so.

“This changes nothing.” The veela high lady repeated, this time with more certainty.

“There’s only five…”

“More than enough. You will follow the plan, oui?” It was not a question. Lavender saw the remaining two veela take their position at the edge of the large bed.

“Yes, ma’am. If he refuses, I will do it.”

“Do you think he would willingly dissolve the Alpha bond he has with that veela?” The corner of the comtesse’s mouth twitched in condescending amusement.

No answer.

“Why are you so intent on trying to save those girls?”

“It’s something the Harry I know would have wanted.”

“He won’t be ‘the Harry you know’ much longer.” Lavender plead ignorance as she stealthily stalked towards the still intimate couple, her pale hand fingering the leather sheath covering her namesake weapon.

“… My sister had said many wonderful things about you when she came back from Hogwarts at the end of the year.” Said the veela spread across Harry’s body.

“Really?” He asked curiously. Harry guessed her sister was one of the Beauxbatons student guests. But for the life of him, he couldn’t recall seeing another veela in the Beauxbatons continent.

Gwen giggled.

“She’s not a veela.”

‘That explained it then.’ Harry was about to start listing names (as he, fortuitously, happen to have known all of the French girls there at Hogwarts) when he felt Gwen stiffen.

“Mind if I cut in?”

The sexy naked veela lying on top of him made herself scarce and was immediately replaced by another sexy near - naked veela, all before Harry said a word.

“I don’t think I am up for another one.”

“You just let me be the judge of that.” Answered Lavender with a naughty grin. Twenty minutes later, a star gazing Harry Potter vowed to never question the spunky blonde. And to think she was actually a virgin before him.

“I like you, Harry, a lot. I really wish I had acted sooner.” The-14-year old boy made an indistinguishable, noncommittal noise.

“…before that Delacour girl came along.”

Harry’s mind cleared instantly at Fleur’s name. He knew where this was going.

“Fleur is my Alpha, Lavender.” The veela felt her heart sink. Lavender couldn’t believe she was thinking of doing this; of actually speaking in the comtesse’s favor. But if it meant saving the life of Harry’s girlfriend, then she was willing to swallow her own pride.

“Fleur is young and inexperienced. I think Comtesse de Noire would be much more suited…”

“No. Fleur is my Alpha, Lavender.” Was Harry’s firm rebuttal.

“But…”

“The answer is ‘NO’.” The entire room literally shook at the force of Harry’s words. The tone of voice demanded just one thing; obedience, absolute and unconditional obedience. Everyone, including the comtesse, was momentarily frozen in silence. Lavender quivered in excitement, feeling adrenaline and hormones shoot through her entire body.

Thinking that he was finished, Harry tried to roll the soaking wet girl on him away, but Lavender resisted. She had no choice now, she had to act.

“Lavender…”

“I’m sorry, Harry. I really am. I just…I just had to at least try.” Lavender wept, nuzzling against him like a stricken puppy. Never one to enjoy the sight of a crying lady, Harry hesitantly reached over and hugged her.

“I understand.” He muttered, thinking that this must be what Fleur said about veela and their sexual aggression. For minutes, Harry held the poor girl. Gently, he ran a hand through strands of long blonde hair, enjoying the moans of pleasure it elicited. There’s something very nice about comforting a beautiful sexy girl. But all of a sudden, Lavender seemed to quake.

“What’s the matter, Lav?”

The veela took one deep gulp of air and sighed. Raising her tear stained face, she looked Harry in the eye.

“I’m sorry, Harry. Please understand that I really am. I tried, I really did try.” The girl looked like a crying wreck.

“It’s alright, I said I understand.”

“It’s not for that…” Off the corner of her eyes, Lavender saw the others move.

“It’s for this.” The veela’s movement was almost instantaneous.

Harry’s eyeballs diluted instantly as blood rushed into his mouth. The veela had little trouble in pulling apart the dazed male veela’s limbs and locking them physically and magically in place. Left eagle spread, Harry caught sight of the instrument protruding vertically from his torso. It was the handle of an elegant dagger. But it wasn’t just any dagger, it was Lavender’s purple dagger whose teeth end was fully buried in his abdomen. Rivers of blood gushed forth from the wound.

Harry jerked involuntarily as five sets of hands pressed against the handle of the blade.

“Let us who act as one, summon forth strength,”

“Let he who is the one, accept our donation,”

“… of blood and power…”

The male veela trashed and foundered, straining furtively against his binds. Groans emitted from his bruised body while tainted blood splashed everywhere. But it wasn’t red, it was black, all black…

“Let force and will be our arbiter,”

“Let force and will be our diviner,”

“Let force and will bind the one that was unbindable.”

“Tame his soul,”

“Tame his heart,”

“Tame that roaring, raging beast!”

Time stopped as Harry felt, not a thousand, but a million knives stab into his heart. He felt his entire body taken over by alien inhospitable forces; his most sacred and inalienable regions defiled; his very essence violated by the taint of evermore darkness; and his fiery burning soul slowly but inexorably extinguished by cold foreign fingers.

“No…” Darkness, betrayal, who, why… Broken shattered thoughts ran into one another.

“I am so sorry, Harry.” The immobilized male veela barely noticed Lavender bending down to kiss his cheek. But he was conscious enough to make one connection which he burned forever into his mind: Lavender and traitor.

Her and her veela associates; their honeyed words, their sensuous bodies, their seductive overtures; lies, all lies. And he fell for them, hook, line and sinker! The beast crashed against the sterile cage erected around him. It could not be.

But it was. The blood the veela had injected into Lavender’s blade was successfully penetrating Harry’s entire anatomy, poisoning, polluting, corrupting, negating whatever innate defense the male veela tried to muster.

“It’ll be ok soon. You’ll be happy… again… soon…with us.”

The solemn Lavender Brown rose, and the comtesse, with an entirely too cheerful smile, gave the command.

“Let’s make this bad boy ours.” The five veela stretched out crushed their presence against the last strongholds of Harry’s individuality and freedom, his bond with Regine and the Alpha bond with Fleur. But if these girls were expecting a quick victory, they were very wrong, dead wrong.

“NO!” Two of the veela were literally thrown back.

“He’s resisting!” Bloody hell yes. Harry Potter was not going down without a fight!

“With what?! We control almost every part of him.” Looks of awe were exchanged. It took the veela ten minutes to get back into position and reestablish their weakened hold on the fiercely struggling male veela.

“I said five wasn’t enough.” Lavender commented. Instead of answering, the furious comtesse pulled away and brought to bare a magical mirror. The mirror split into two halves, each with an image of the two veela, who towed Harry’s girls away, both looking slightly worse for wear, appeared.

“The quarter veela and her friend. Are they still even conscious?” Two weak nods. More looks were exchanged.

“Of course, their bond with the male veela is sustaining them.” All of a sudden, the comtesse’s face twisted into the shape of a sinister smile.

“Kill them…”

“…Kill them now and get back here. It appears that we will require your help.” Neither veela seemed thrilled about their task, but made no show of complaining.

“Yes, ma’am.” The two images answered crisply before flickering out of existence.

“No.” Gasped the sad, dilapidated shell of Harry Potter. He was so weak and tired. Voices urged him to rest, rest so that when he woke all, all would be well.

‘No, no, no. Must resist…’ Harry resisted the temptation as the beast within him let loose one final roar.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” The burst of magic that erupted out of the male veela engulfed all five conspiring veela in a mushrooming cloud of violently released magical power.

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Translation:

Intercido – To cut asunder, to demolish, destroy
Concremo Plurimus – To burn very many (times)
Une guérisseuse, vite – A healer, quick.
Mon dieu – My god
C’est si bon – This is so good
Une Haute Veela – High veela (literally) = pure/full veela, one who possesses all of the distinguishable attributes and abilities of the veela species.
Arrete! Je t’aime comme une soeur – Stop! I love you like a sister.
Alea iacta est – Latin: the die has been cast/the die is cast: Julius Caesar reportedly said this as he crossed the Rubicon River in 49 BC with his legions, effectively declaring war against Rome.

AN: Ok, for those who think Harry is being too dumb, please hold on to your knickers. I’m pretty sure you people will be more than pleased with Harry in the next chapter. Just hope you aren’t too grossed out. ;)