Secret of the Male Veela

Rating: M for graphical themes, gruesome depictions of blood and sexual improprieties. Chapter includes graphic anal and femme slash sexual acts. Smut is available in the uncensored version.

Posted: 6/11/2006
Betas: Yogert, Lord Sivart

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Chapter 15: Lament of the Veela

For Princess Violette Mercière, the sight of the remains of one of Comtesse de Noire’s veela outside spoke loud and clear about the fate of their Victory plan. The way the girl laid resting, motionless and inert, amidst a pool of blood on the stone pavement; the way her soft smooth skin was parted aside as if by thoracic surgery – roughly and brutally executed thoracic surgery that is – laying bare her innards for the world to see.

The royal veela shook her head clear. She did not need the gruesome imagery stuck in her mind, not when she had this gruesome scene right in front of her.

Violette was in the palatial chamber just inside the main entrance, standing at ground zero of the most recent force of nature that would henceforth be named the fury-of-the-thousand-year-beast. Pillars, nearly hundred feet tall, over a meter wide diameter and metric tons worth of pillars were laid bare; chucks of the pristine ornate ceiling were displaced all across the ground; while the entire surface of the once glistening chamber floor was transformed into a twisted wasteland of broken rocks… covered with flesh and blood, lots of flesh and blood that is.

Pushing a lock of her fine white hair behind an ear, Violette gazed upon the body splayed before her. The nubile veela’s torso was run through with a large metal spike that stuck out at both ends and her clothing had two enormous red-black circles in the front and back. Blood pooled on the ground sprinkled liberally with patches of broken feathers.

The girl trembled when Violette laid a hand gently on her back. She was definitely alive, barely, and the royal princess was quite sure she would be better off dead. Violette’s delicate fingers caressed the wand strapped to her side. She was tempted to help end the mortally wounded veela’s suffering, but alas something told her the choice was not hers to make.

The veela mewled pathetically half babbling something about her ‘soeur’. Poor, poor Guinevere. Violette knew the girl with the sunny disposition quite well. ‘She didn’t deserve this.’

The young girl’s eyes darted to another body lying further off. This clearly was Gwen’s wing mate based on her ruffled sets of wings. Her back looked like it took a nasty pounding from the cut clothing and skin inflicted by the broken and jagged stone around her.

Violette gave her a little nudge. Dead. Curious. These rocks shouldn’t have been fatal to a veela. Then, the princess’s eyes caught the twin cuts running across the neck. Slit jugular; execution style.

‘That bitch.’ To commit such a heinous act against one of her own… Violette glared at Comtesse de Noire’s prone form. So the perpetrator was dead as well. How appropriate. Though from the looks of things, her death was far too clean and quick compared to the surrounding carnage.

‘Stabbed by her own sword?’ Violette almost laughed as she looked at the scimitar protruding from her blackened chest. To think that their most revered and powerful fighter would die in such a manner was almost laughable. What’s next? That the human girl killed her.

The veela royalty’s blue eyes swept onwards. A fifth body was laid out on her back, with a huge gush that dug deep into her throat. A sixth one was…well all over the place. Given that every other body was identified, that left just one person, Sabine. Poor girl. A broody crater dominated the center of the room, indicating the location of where most of her remains were. But pieces of the unfortunate veela’s flesh and guts hung everywhere as well. The Matriarch had even identified pieces of the spleen and several lung fragments.

Finally, Violette’s shinning crystal eyes fell upon the slumped form of Lavender Brown. Her shoulders slumped in defeat as her heart sank into the pit of her stomach. Her hand reached for the tiara on her head. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as the jeweled crown clung uselessly on the ground. What good was all this when she did nothing to save her?

Violette slammed her eyes shut. She was responsible as she could have prevented this. The veela princess reeled at the thought, panting in pain as she felt her chest become unbearably tight. Only the need to remain strong as the veela’s remaining leader prevented the young girl from breaking down in tears.

‘Get it together, girl. The worst isn’t over yet.’ She had no idea how right she was.

Off the corner of her eyes, she saw the Matriarch hovering over the comatose human girl, who along with the part veela was in surprisingly good condition. Two veela sentries guarded the defenseless girls’ bodies at wand point. Violette waved them off. With de Noire’s entire team dead or incapacitated, further aggression against the male veela and especially his protected girls was at best pointless and at worst suicidal.

The other veela stood around, looking at their royal princess expectantly as they waited for her orders. Whatever they were going to do they needed to do it quick. As soon as the beast they tried to chain awakened, that was likely it for everyone within a ten-mile radius.

Alas, the veela never had a chance to come up with anything resembling a plan. Violette was just opening her mouth to speak when a blinding light engulfed the room. When it cleared, Harry stood before her with his imposing wand levied against her face at point blank range.

Violette sighed in defeat. She flashed a non-verbal message at her fellow veela sisters and within seconds, the only weapon left in the open was the one wielded by Harry.

“What have you done to my girls?” He demanded harshly, clearly not the least bit ameliorated by the veela’s voluntary disarmament.

“Nothing. We haven’t touched them since we came in.” Violette offered in what she hoped was a placating manner. No luck. The young veela winced as her captor jammed his wand against her neck.

“I checked their vitals. They are all right and should be waking up soon.” Harry glared at the Matriarch, clearly suspicious her words as well.

“Donc, je veux que vous, salopes, foutiez le camps sur l’heure et disparaissez de ma vue à tout jamais.” Ordered the male veela in near flawless French.

Silence.

No one could deny that the young English boy had style. Outnumbered and still weak, Harry Potter had the audacity to threaten their royal princess inside their palace and then demand in their native language that they leave. Of course, the real kicker was when the veela actually followed his order.

“No, your highness, I would like it if you could stay.” Harry added coldly. It wasn’t a request. Violette winced once again at the feel of Harry’s wood being pressed against her. The other veela hesitated. Whatever their personal feelings, they weren’t about to abandon their leader to someone with decidedly unpleasant designs on her person. But a stern stare from Violette forced their hand.

As the main entrance door closed shut with a resounding slam, the pure veela fought against the overwhelming instinct to shudder. Princess Violette Mercière braced herself as she stared into the accusing glare of the lord male veela, the reputed Boy-Who-Lived, and most likely her executioner.

“Are you the one responsible?” A simple question with oh so many implications. But the girl on trial knew exactly what her judge was referring to.

“Yes.” Violette’s tone was one of resigned acceptance. One had to appreciate the young woman’s candor. How tempting it must have been for a person in her position to insert a little excuse or even an explanation.

For several long minutes, nothing happened … except, of course, for Harry trying to drill a hole through Violette’s soul with his eyes; eyes which seemed to damn her for all eternity. Violette squared her shoulders once as she opened her mouth to speak.

“I…” Then her world exploded in pain.

When she came to a second later, she had a mouthful of blood and found her back pressed painfully against one of the damaged and jagged pillars. Violette felt her breath being squeezed out of her as she felt pressure being steadily applied to her windpipe. Her small body shook as she gasped desperately for breath, but only succeeded in ruining her clean silk garment with spats of blood. Her baby blue eyes blinked rapidly like a frightened trapped prey.

For a second, Violette’s fight or flight instinct urged her to react. Her small hands quickly flew to the frail looking but powerful hand that locked her neck in place, but there they stopped. Why was she resisting? After all, wasn’t this what she was expecting?

Unlike human counterparts who bore the titles of ‘princess’, veela princesses of the French enclaves had vastly different roles; roles which often made them companions of pain, sisters of suffering and even brides of death. Violette Mercière was no different.

Though never had she expected to go in such a pathetic manner. For someone such as her to die by asphyxiation like some useless Barbie doll… that was just depressing.

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Click; the sound of events in Harry’s mind clicking into place. Lying on the ground with his mind hovering on the boarders between consciousness and unconsciousness, Harry had worked fiercely to put everything together. It’s quite amazing how much a person can learn after getting a thorough thrashing. Of course, the conclusions he drew did not speak well of his intelligence.

‘I was such a fool.’ But at least he was smart enough to recognize when he had been had. And no matter what, Harry had to admit that these French veela had class. Even now, he suspected that he barely scratched the surface of the extensive and sprawling layers of lies and deceit they had woven around themselves over the course of many generations.

But, at least he now had a - if not the - trump card at his disposal, Princess Violette Mercière. Harry was sure that the Matriarch was a fake. She looked to the royal princess for guidance much too often. How terribly clever. Who from the outside would ever suspect the young princess of being anything more than an exquisite piece of eye candy.

Harry’s eyes pierced his prey with a cold glare. Oh, how wished to just let go; to surrender to his burning desire to tear, to hurt, to exact cruel vengeance on the vulnerable girl in front of him.

The male veela beast smiled, his emerald eyes set ablaze with a maniacal glean.

Harry suddenly released his hard grip on his captive’s throat, pinning her instead with the full weight of his body. He felt the veela princess tremble beneath him, gasping for air while her arms instinctively latched onto him for support. Face set, he quickly patted the girl down, his eyes darkening steadily with each successive sweep. A single fluid swish of his wand caused Violette’s regal garments to disintegrate. A small stiletto and a pair of very ‘impressive’ wands cluttered to the floor. That was a lot of firepower for such a small girl.

Harry’s hand flew over Violette’s exquisite body; his palm sliding around the edges of her skimpy silk lingerie: his digits caressing the gentle valley between her breasts. This girl might look the part of the stereotypical pampered little princess, but she definitely didn’t feel the part. Harry gave her creamy thighs a squeeze. ‘Sweet Merlin.’ They were as hard as magically fortified dragon’s hide.

Curious. Even with all the adrenaline and testosterones shooting through his veins, Harry found it vaguely curious that the veela girl before him remained so unresisting. Surely a girl who carries four weapons on her person must know some techniques for physically dislodging an opponent, but her arms flapped around uselessly. And be reminded that Harry was still buck-naked and Harry jr. apparently came with its own pussy radar. His meaty cock lurched forward on its own accord, pressing itself against Violette’s overflowing twat. Her chastity’s last line of defense, a thin wiry piece of blue lace, buckled under the pressure as the dainty princess vocalized her struggle with a throaty groan.

To be fair, this wasn’t Harry’s initial intention; really it wasn’t. But the sound of the girl’s moaning, the smell of her fresh disposition, and the sight of her sweat covered body and dripping sex; they were like ingredients for a super Imperio Curse, targeted specifically for him with one command in mind. The male veela leaned in, lapping up quite innocently the traces of her blood at the edge of her mouth. Harry failed to suppress his moans of heavenly delight. He was like a bee, buzzing around, intoxicated with the taste of a blossoming flower’s essence.

Harry had sampled the appetizer. His soul now craved for the entrée.

A wad of clear liquid hit the floor with a resounding splat, its resulting sound magnified and bounced about the enormous chamber room. And what do you know; she was wetter than that everlasting Playwizard blow-me toy Seamus used to always talk about.

‘… just like the rest of her whoring friends.’ Harry thought maliciously. An unpleasant dark look crossed his face ruining his normally radiant complexion.

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Violette felt herself being whirled around. Her body protested in pain as Harry crushed her abdomen against the pillar. The jagged marble cut deeply into her exposed skin, drawing blood samples to the surface. The veela princess moaned helplessly as her tormentor pressed his rock hard shaft against her naked backside.

“You little slut, did you really think I would defile my body by being with the likes of you?” Wisely, Violette kept her mouth shut about being a virgin. But Harry was unrelenting. The veela’s mouth opened in a silent scream as she felt her back being set on fire.

“Don’t ignore me, salope! I asked you a question.”

“Non, monsieur?”

“Liar!” Predictably Violette felt pain, maybe even a bit of fear (just a bit), but all that took a distant second to something else; something which Harry in his state of hyper-arousal did not miss. His flaming green glowed with demonic glee.

“Are you actually getting wetter?” Harry pressed, his tone dropping to a low predatory baritone. The veela whimpered pitifully, unable to deny her arousal as her erogenous zones burned with wanton lust.

“Yes you are. You really are a little tart aren’t you! Just like my conniving classmate.” The helpless blonde could only respond by panting like a bitch in a heat; her senses all but overwhelmed by the male veela. While Harry was lacking in some areas of the veela sexual arts, what he lacked in experience and control, he more than made up for in sheer power.

“I swear, you could be that slut’s twin sister.” Harry cackled.

Violette desperately wanted to resist, to protest. Instead, she continued to leak like a pierced ‘dike’.

The domineering young man relished the sight of his plaything’s shame and humiliation. His comment even made sense in a perverse, kinky kind of way. The two girls had the same height, same build and same hair color. Their one contrasting physical characteristic was their eye colors; Princess Violette Mercière had doe-like light blue eyes while Lavender’s had dazzling brown ones. Far as Harry was concerned, the veela before him could very well be a sister of Lavender’s.

‘Lavender.’ Just the very idea that this pretty, young and still healthy thing might be related to the scheming rapist bitch lying half dead on the ground set his blood aflame. He still remembered the comtesse’s gloating words about how they, specifically Lavender, had played him like a fiddle. Just hours ago, he almost succumbed to his classmate’s vile wiles. Oh yes, Harry Potter was definitely dying for a little pay back.

His hand made a single swipe, eliciting a piercing feminine shriek. Harry then carelessly dropped the tattered, thoroughly soaked remains of her royal highness’s light blue panties to the floor. Still the veela did not resist. In fact, Violette seemed to have all but resigned herself to the imminent assault on her maidenhood. Her forehead was pressed against the pillar while her arms were wrapped around the structure for support.

There would be no fairytale ending this time, at least not for this princess. Violette gasped as she felt her orifice being probed.

But something was off…

The blonde girl froze in surprise, but only until an impatient Harry ordered her to “Start sucking!”

The veela obeyed with all the reluctance of a docile house elf. But quickly Violette realized two things: one, she had his captor’s wet fingers in her mouth, and two; they had a distinct pungent taste to them.

The veela shuddered at the implication. She wanted to turn her head away and spit in disgust. Harry was having none of that and quickly made his point by ramming his digits into her warm opening. Violette gagged at the forceful entry, but soon recovered to do what he wanted. One lick, two lick and before she knew it, she was running her tongue along the length of each of Harry’s fingers as if they were mini-dildos.

“You like how you taste, don’t you, your highness?” Harry smiled darkly, blasting the vulnerable princess with another dose of his veela hormones.

Violette could only moan as she continued to lick and slurp with wild abandon.

“Too busy sucking your own juices, huh?” Harry jerked, pulling his fingers out the veela’s tight orifice with a pop sound. He then gripped Violette arm roughly and spun her around once more. Drool and girl juice stained the princess’s otherwise flawless creamy complexion.

“Figures that the French would have the likes of you being royalty. Wouldn’t surprise me if you happen to be a spawn of Queen Margot herself.”

Violette’s cheeks flushed pink. Harry’s offhanded insult hit a raw nerve. Not surprising. Marguerite de Valois, who lived in the 14th to 15th century as one time wife of Henry Bourbon (Henry IV of France) to the muggles, represented one chapter of history that many French veela would rather forget. In the muggle and wizarding worlds, Marguerite was notorious for being the literal archetype of the French street-whore. But her popularized sexual indiscretions and proclivities were only a part of what made her own people despise her.

More than her licentious activities, Queen Margot was also inept, incompetent and grossly negligent of her duties as the ranking veela in France. Her actions had near disastrous political and civil consequences for the veela populations in France. And it took the Herculean efforts of countless veela revisionist initiatives over many decades to cover up the worst of what happened. Even now, contemporary veela regularly wonder how one of their own was allowed to live - much less rule - in such a blasé manner.

One noteworthy consequence did come out of all this. The veela royal personages of France after Margot would forever be held accountable for the welfare of their population. The royal office was radically changed to become a brutal expression of what would be best known as ‘veela Darwinian meritocracy’. Draconian and even sadistic punishment was regularly dealt to veela princesses or queens who failed to measure up… or who were just too weak.

Princess Violette Mercière could still vividly recall how Comtesse de Noire had masterfully plotted the demise of her predecessor, who was peppered with slander and stripped of her executive authority. Violette had been there that day when de Noire publically humiliated her, forcing her to her knees to apologize for some trumped up charges before personally administering the coup de grace blow. She had been there when she watched her predecessor being shoved into a freshly dug grave in the middle of nowhere.

Perhaps that was why she remained unafraid even as Harry towered menacingly over her. She had long since come to terms with what being a veela princess might entail. But Harry, of course, didn’t know this. All he knew was that he saw a glaring light in her eyes; a light which no victor ever wanted to see in the eyes of his defeated foe. Hot with embroiled anger, Harry lined himself up against the lithe girl’s firm derriere. He was fully intending to claim his royal captive here and now when…

“‘arry?” Instantly, Harry’s fanatical urge to cause suffering dissolved, replaced with concern for his Alpha.

Violette collapsed to the ground in a panting heap as Harry hurried jumped off of her. Despite what had happened and what would likely have happened, she couldn’t help but feel a stab of maddening jealousy as her lord gave the dull and unimpressive part veela his full attention while dropping her like well… trash.

“Get over here. Help Fleur and I’ll let you live.” Violette added ‘for now’ in her mind. But she was in no condition to be a wisecrack. The veela scurried over like a pathetic house elf desperate to please her master.

Less than a minute later, Violette completed her assignment. And she almost received a curse in the torso for her trouble. But Harry, upon eyeing a wide-eyed Fleur, hesitated in the last second. Releasing pent up rage was one thing, doing so on an unresisting young girl when his mate was watching was another.

“Oh don’t mind us. Go fuck her until she bleeds.” Harry whirled around to see a dirtied and battle wary but otherwise healthy Regine standing meters away. Again, the veela princess watched with jealousy that surprised even herself as the young English wizard swooped the lovely French blonde into his arms. Harry then bestowed generous portions of kisses as he checked for injuries.

“I’m fine, Harry. The bond must have healed me. And yes I do mean what I said.” Tossing the naked veela princess a hateful glare, Regine added heatedly, “You should make her bleed.”

“And look she’s all wet for it too.” She spoke naughtily, giving Harry a light push towards the veela. That Violette was horny for Harry was true. Equally true was her anger at the human girl for daring to address her so and her shame at herself for acting so helpless.

“Please spare the other veela. They had nothing to do with this.” Violette begged. With her fate uncertain, the veela made one last a plea for her people.

Harry’s eyes narrowed. She dared to make demands of him?! He advanced menacingly towards her. “And why should I?”

“… Because Lavender said you wouldn’t be like him.” The veela princess spoke uncertainly in a whispered tone, but she might as well have shouted so far as Harry was concerned.

“Like who?” His hands flew to her, roughly pulling her slender form towards him.

“High Lord Thanatos.” She squeaked out.

Violette whimpered as she felt Harry’s emerald eyes clawed their way into her mind. Under normal circumstances, unless the target veela consented, her mind was effectively impervious to conventional legilimency techniques. But the veela leader was not exactly in the best of health, mentally or physically. Her worst fears and the nightmarish memories of her people floated freely to the top of her head, free for the picking.

Harry’s eyes dilated as his mind absorbed fragments of Violette’s thoughts. Then, as quickly as possible, he backed away, his face ashen with horror.

“The leading veela of what was then Gaulia Major had killed his Alpha in a foolish dispute. As if that wasn’t enough, they then tried to set the Germanic and Volga* veela to take the fall. Needless to say, Thanatos found out the truth. What you saw was the result as seen through the eyes of one of the survivors.” Stated Violette, answering his silent question.

Harry’s mind reeled as his anger and pent-up hatred for the veela and her kind was replaced with disbelief. Sure, he knew how powerful a male veela could be, but he barely recognized the force of nature that raged against those veela.

“Thanatos was a brilliant ruler, but he was absolutely ruthless against those who wronged him. As example to the veela of Gaul*, he… he selected a veela town at random and through a variety of creative ways put to death its entire population. Everyone - the adult veela, their mates, the children and even all the livestock and domestic animals - all were killed.” Violette explained with impossible calm.

Harry looked distinctly nauseous as the young girl added captions to the barbaric memories like an automaton. As much as he empathized with Thanatos’s plight, his actions induced feelings of revulsion within Harry. One especially gruesome scene stuck to his mind. In it, a veela was laying wounded on the ground while her human mate and her eldest daughter stood guarding her. The frenzied Thanatos didn’t even pause as he ripped all three people apart leaving only bloody pieces and three lumpy carcasses for the family’s sole remaining survivor, a very young and tear stained veela girl.

‘Ugh, I’m going to hurl.’ He almost did. As if coming to an epiphany, the young man suddenly saw the broken room around him, littered with bodies of dead veela.

Harry lowered his head as a profound sense of sadness overcame him. No, it wasn’t because he felt regret for what he did, but rather it was because he didn’t feel it. He could muster no remorse for cursing those veela, for inflicting untold pain upon them and for killing them. Was this the hallmark of a male veela’s ‘greatness’? To be a demonic monster capable of reckless indulgence as the connoisseur of others’ suffering?

‘No.’ And if that was the case, then Harry was going to be one male veela who wanted no part of it. But by no means was this a wholehearted internal proclamation. Even now, the male veela felt a longing to crush the pureblood veela’s body with his own and selfishly use her for his own pleasure.

Harry looked down and then up. As if coming to a decision, he suddenly turned around and started walking away from his veela captive.

Violette blinked rapidly. Having all but expected to be fucked senseless and gutted by now, the veela princess was simply astonished by her lord’s level of self-control. After all it was said that the greatest exercise of power is being able to restrain oneself from using it. Harry’s unique “exercise of power” was definitely going to leave a lasting impression on her and her fellow veela sisters.

“Wait, milord.” Cried the diminutive veela as she leaped forward. She rummaged through her slashed robes on the ground and leapt forward to confront her impatient guest.

“Don’t press your luck, your royal highness. I’m not Thanatos and I won’t have you so easily turn me into a rapist and murderer, but you are trying my patience.” Harry grounded out, sounding every bit the desperate man trying to keep the lid on his psycho persona.

“I know this won’t mean much to you now, but you are still our lord. The veela people are yours to command.”

“You are right, it doesn’t mean much.” Harry spat back.

The young veela nodded, sighing deeply as she produced a small packet of parchment and several of those miniature mirrors, which the veela used for communication.

“These contain information, data and tables about the French Veela Enclaves and as well as general histories about our people throughout the ages. Most are unknown to the rest of the world and even many of our own people. They have been charmed so they could be read only you and those who carry your sign.” Violette stated. If one compared political diplomacy to a sex competition, then the veela princess’s gesture was just about comparable to the defeated competitor going down her knees to give the winner his reward. Who knew politics was so ‘dirty’.

But Harry remained motionless, maintaining his cold glare at the veela princess. Finally, Fleur stepped forward and stoically accepted the offered ‘gift’. His head, then, whipped around at his Alpha, but Fleur refused to cower, meeting his accusing emerald orbs head on with her unwavering azure eyes. Eventually the male veela softened his glare.

Fleur was of course right. Knowledge was power, which they didn’t have as shown by the events of today. Clearly Thanatos’s Diary was lacking in some things. Harry bestowed upon his Alpha a grudging smile, but his smile diminished as he saw Princess Mercière being entirely too jovial.

“What are you smiling, your highness? I don’t want to see your face ever again! If - and that’s a big if - I choose to deal with veela from here on out, I will not be manipulated by the likes of you.” Harry bellowed, watching with secret glee as the veela deflated. But his dark amusement was short lived.

“If you do not want to ever be manipulated by me, then I advise you to strike me down here. I will inevitably fail you in that category, milord.” Answered the veela with a small sad laugh.

“Excuse me?”

“Unless one lives in complete isolation of others, no can ever be truly free of manipulation either as the subject or as the object. The best one could hope for is to only manipulate and only be manipulated by loved ones.”

Violette’s soft blue eyes shined brightly with hidden truth and wisdom. Momentarily Harry experienced the déjà vu sensation of being a little stupid, dumb first year kid, standing before an awe inspiring Albus Dumbledore. But something was very different. The veela princess was definitely no Dumbledore and that made Harry pause from unleashing an angry retort.

“Your girls look like they want to perform a dark ritual using my body.” Violette noted lightly after a few moments of silence.

“But they won’t because they know I won’t allow them. It’s something called loyalty, which your people could learn about.” Harry stated sarcastically. The veela took the low blow fairly well, displaying only the faintest hint of a wince.

“What about if you found out that I was of use to you and that I then end up at your side? Will they accept me or plot against me?” Only Harry’s hand signal for peace kept his dynamic French duo down.

“My girls’ loyalty isn’t the issue here now is it?” Harry barked harshly, pointing all around the room. “And I find that scenario most unlikely given how you aren’t exactly my favorite person right now.”

“Things might change.” Harry thought he vaguely saw an ‘I know something you don’t’ look in the girl’s eyes, but he shook it off as being a creation of his tired mind.

“… or they might not. This conversation is over. I trust that we will not be further hindered as we leave?” Harry leveled his wand at Violette.

“No, milord. This entire area is warded and outside of French wizarding control. No one outside of here will know about what has happened.” Harry’s gut feeling was that for once, a veela was being honest. Against perhaps all logic, Harry went with his instinct. And quite frankly, he really didn’t want to deal with having a royal hostage.

“Good. Now I don’t want you or any of your people trying to contact me. I just might not be in such a forgiving mood the next time around.”

Harry Potter spun around and walked towards the large entrance door, stopping midway.

“Princess. I won’t forget or forgive what happened this day. It might not be today or tomorrow, and it might not even be by my action… but rest assured that someday, somewhere, somehow… you will pay for this; pay with interests and dividends.”

Violette’s whole body trembled at Harry’s cold and seemingly prophetic words. She could only bow her head in submission as Harry and his girls stumped out of the veela palace. They would leave le Bastion unmolested.

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The Matriarch of the French Veela and her small veela entourage returned to the palace, finding their naked princess conversing softly with the wounded veela known affectionately as Petit Aconit.

“Your highness!” The Matriarch called in surprise. “I’m very pleased to see that you are alive.”

“For now.” Violette only smiled a sad smile, thanking one of the veela as she was offered a coat.

“We saw him leave without damaging a single building or seek out any of our people to prey on.” The Matriarch stated with not just a little bit of amazement.

“Then Lavender was right. This Harry Potter truly is extraordinary. The level of control he exerted on himself must have been…” Violette’s eyes glazed over as she trailed off. Of all the skills crucial for a normal veela to learn, perhaps none is as physically demanding and emotionally straining as remaining in control of oneself. And it was infinitely more difficult for a male veela, who’s at times resembled a force of nature.

Such was the price of power so great that it was outside one’s own control. The veela royalty did not envy Harry’s place, but then her own position wasn’t much better.

Violette ran her hand through Lavender’s soft silky blonde hair, feeling reassured with the light moans her action elicited. Lavender always did love, even more than any normal veela, having her hair played with.

The Matriarch looked at the two girls with an expression of profound sadness. Experience had shown both to be far better trained and able than her, but in these moments, the elder veela couldn’t help but notice that they were still a couple of young teenage girls; beautiful young teenage girls who under any other circumstances would be having fun with friends their age, chasing or as it were being chased by boys. But instead fate placed far greater duties and far crueler trials on their narrow shoulders.

Violette bent forward to pick up her by now blood stained tiara. She wiped the liquid off with the edge of her coat before donning the royal artifice.

“Call together a joint session of all major commands, s’il vous plait. I’ll make a full disclosure of today’s events and assume full responsibility.”

“Oui, bien sûr, votre altesse.” One of the veela answered in a snap before hurrying off.

An uncomfortable silence followed.

“Will you at least deploy the Phantom Force then, to ensure your safety?”

The princess’s reply was crisp and clear, free of hesitation.

“Non.” Violette held up a hand to stop the flurry of protests.

“Non.” She repeated in a softer voice. This time there was no more protest. “Whatever happens, happens.”

Instinctively, Violette hugged Lavender close to her. The dying girl whispered something to her friend’s ear to which the veela princess nodded once. Violette’s extended her hand upon which one of the veela placed a wand. With exaggerated pained slowness, Violette raised her weapon.

“Your highness!” The Matriarch cried in shock, her hand shooting forward to grab Violette’s. “Are you giving up?”

The younger veela sighed.

“You can’t help her, Celes. And you know that the male veela’s bond would slowly and painfully kill her. I failed her already. I won’t have her die an agonizing death as well.” Lavender made some noise, clearly wanting to protest Violette’s act of taking up the blame. For the Matriarch and the other veela it was most disheartening to see their young and dynamic leader in such a hopeless and helpless state.

“Wait, your highness! There might be something you could do.”

Violette’s wand wielding hand lowered slowly. She looked down at the dying girl in her lap and then up at the Matriarch.

“I’m listening.”

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Inside the Bedchambers of Fleur Delacour…

Harry wrapped an arm around each of his lovely beauties, pulling their trembling forms to him. Even though his own mind was filled turmoil, the young man sought to sooth his girls with whisperings of sweet nothingness. Amazingly enough, it worked. They soon became more docile, their breath less labored and pained. But alas Harry worked his magic a bit too well.

The male veela’s eyes glazed over as he realized his two sexy playmates had turned their attention to other matters. Harry hissed with barely suppressed arousal as his girls rapidly divested him of his clothes while nibbling away at his exposed flesh.

‘So soft and nice.’ But then, a sinking feeling came to him as he looked at Fleur. Harry suddenly couldn’t shake the thought of how much she looked and felt like the rest of her kin, like that scheming Comtesse de Noire or that treacherous classmate Lavender Brown. A brief but very real twinge of hatred seized the male veela as he felt his Alpha nuzzling against his chest.

“Now’s not a good time, Fleur.” Harry stated as he pushed the blonde girl away, his voice betraying a hard edge. It was wrong and he knew that. But like being the helpless spectator of a train wreck he couldn’t stop himself.

The push caught the part veela by surprise. Fleur stumbled back and was only saved from a humiliating fall by her friend’s quick reaction.

“Merci.” Fleur muttered a small thanks to Regine, hiding her hurt behind a forced smile. What Harry did was hurtful, cruel and completely irrational. And occurring at her moment of need, Fleur felt the cut to be far deeper and far more painful than Lavender’s pitiful slashes.

Shinning tears welled in Fleur’s blue eyes as anger mixed with anguish. Born into high society, well bred, well mannered, well schooled, she was Fleur Delacour. She was supposed to be classy, formal and be a pretty porcelain doll. She was supposed to attend balls wearing designer clothes and impossible high heels, while handsome suitors dangled off her arms. She was supposed to live the life of a pampered princess! And everyone around her certainly never dissuaded her of the notion of royal entitlement. She most certainly wasn’t supposed to be fighting for her life against fanatics. She most certainly wasn’t supposed to clinging onto her man like some silly fan girl and share the love of her life with god knows how many other girls. And she definitely wasn’t supposed to just accept being treated like some two bit street prostitute.

Fleur wanted to rage at the injustice done to her person; instead the gorgeous blonde gave her friend a solemn look as she sank to her knees. Harry’s statement died as Regine crushed her lips against his. Fleur had rightly figured that her mate would be more receptive of her human friend.

For a moment, the older French girl wondered darkly how was it that she went from the highborn trim and proper princess of not long ago to the kneeing wanton slut she was now. But then Harry’s underwear dropped to the floor, revealing his oozing member. The part veela instantly began salivating.

Ah, screw it. Fleur decided that other girls can keep being princesses in their own little world waiting for their Prince Charming. She leaned forward, propping herself on one hand while brushing aside an obstructing strand of light blonde hair with another. She’ll ‘take’ her master any day of the week.

-----LEMON WARNING-----

Harry moaned with pleasure as he felt Fleur’s talented tongue run up and down the length of his cock. Getting a blowjob from an attentive gorgeous girl really does do wonders to settle a guy’s troubled mind. His hand dug into his lover’s silky hair, holding her into place as he pumped in and out of her hot mouth. Of course, being French kissed by another beautiful girl at the same time didn’t hurt either.

Rather than holding back until the very last moment Harry decided to let it go this time. He grunted into Regine’s mouth as he exploded into Fleur’s mouth in record time, taking his Alpha by complete surprise. The girl tried to ease her mouth into a better position only to find her head held in place by her lover’s firm hands. Fleur moaned inarticulately as Harry pumped wad after wad of his enriched semen into her inviting orifice. Now, the part veela was definitely good; her jaw muscles clinched and unclenched, her head bobbed up and down in a valiant effort to swallow and process as much of Harry’s precious release as possible.

Harry jr. was absolutely unrelenting.

Fleur gave a muffled sigh of resignation as she was forced to allow a portion of her lover’s incoming liquid to flow out of the corners of her mouth. A panting Regine took the time to look down and couldn’t help but take a quick barb at her usually dominant playmate.

“Naughty Fleur. What did the dentist say about eating sweets before dinner?” Fleur glared up at her friend, trying to adopt her dominatrix form. But admittedly, it was rather difficult for her to look intimidating when she had cum dripping from her chin and was on her knees busy sucking away at Harry’s ‘lollipop’.

Regine almost lost it right there.

“Now, now, remember what maman said about not talking with your mouth full!” Foolishly Fleur ignored her friend’s advice, walking right into the set trap as she tried to speak. Cum snot shot out of her nose as she began gagging. Whether it was out of fear for her safety or because his orgasm was finally nearing completion, Harry’s grip loosened. With sticky male juice foaming from her mouth, Fleur finally pulled away … only to be painted with a full facial with the last of Harry’s ejaculation.

The temporarily satiated young male sobered as he beheld the disheveled and cum soaked state of his lover. His earlier negative reaction to her veela racial attributes largely overshadowed with genuine concern. But before he could move to assist, a loud cackle erupted from the other blonde beside him. Regine was laughing uproariously at the part veela’s misfortune.

Fleur glared playfully at her friend on one hand but then cleaned herself up with the other in rather good cheer. The part veela must have had at least some voyeuristic tendencies as she was not the least bit daunted by her spectators as she calmly wiped the white cream off of her face, chin and neck before sucking them off of her fingers.

The tall blonde beauty smirked, feeling a small sense of triumph as she saw Regine flush with arousal. Fleur’s smile widened as she turned to see Harry at half-mast and rapidly rising. But her face quickly fell as she beheld Harry’s amused but also guarded expression. Alas, the stinging effect of the day’s events at the veela city had not left him.

The older girl sighed. As painful as it was and much as she had hoped otherwise, this was not entirely unexpected. Well, if having sex with her was too… uncomfortable for him, there was someone else there. Looking at her friend, Fleur just prayed that those veela didn’t cause her master to develop ‘blondiephobia’ or something equally inane.

Swallowing her pride, Fleur dropped on all fours and crawled, slowly and seductively, back to Harry, coming to a rest at his feet. She then pushed a confused Regine up against the male veela, lining up her soaking pussy against his erect boner. It would appear that Fleur’s fear was unfounded. With very minimal preparation and guidance from Fleur, almost at once Harry eagerly sank the first four inches of his meat into the human girl’s willing entrance. And after that they were off…

It was said that ‘Action speaks louder than words’. Nowhere was that little bit of wisdom truer than in cases involving passionate sex. No words were needed as Harry and Regine encircled each other with flying hands while their bodies rubbed and gyrated against one another. Not even two minutes passed before their grunts and screams signaled their first release to the part veela lying under them. Fleur had to force herself to ignore the almost maddening sound of their lovemaking as she lapped at their overflowing junction like a meager beggar grabbling at scraps of food outside a five star restaurant.

Was it degrading that a girl should have to ‘volunteer’ herself in such a fashion within her own bedroom? Absolutely. Yet at the same time, Fleur knew that this was likely the closest she was to getting some for not only tonight but for a long while. Beggars simply couldn’t be choosers. The girl closed her eyes as she assaulted the rutting couple’s external genitalia with renewed vigor while their combined juices dripped on her face. She took Harry’s testicles into her mouth, lathering them one by one before switching to massaging Regine’s vulva with her tongue.

As Harry and Regine exploded in one final orgiastic finish, Fleur diligently cleaned them off. Leaning back on the back of her heels, she then observed the two smiling and satisfied lovers. In a vicarious sense, Fleur had made love to them and they to her. Not quite the same or as good as the real thing, but it had been close enough… for now.

“Fleur, where are you going?”

“Ze bathroom to get a towel? You guyz made a mess.” The blonde said as if stating the most obvious thing in the world. Regine looked at Harry, then at her friend and smiled.

“That can wait. Come here, Fleur.”

The part veela hesitated.

“Come HERE, Fleur!” Regine called out, enunciating her words the second time with a commanding air. Fleur pouted rather cutely as she obeyed. The part veela was suddenly conscious of having her nubile body played with as her master looked on from just inches away.

“Harry, don’t you think Fleur deserve a little reward for all her hard work?” The human girl cooed.

The male veela nodded. Regine gave her friend a light push and Fleur suddenly found herself enfolded in one of Harry’s loving embraces. Unable to contain her hunger, the French girl turned, capturing Harry’s lips in a juicy kiss. It was undeniably hot, breathtakingly sexy, and impassionate, but it lacked something. Fleur broke away first. As she opened her sharp blue eyes opened, her entire face seemed to scream, ‘what the heck went wrong?’

Ignorance was bliss. She should have kept her eyes shut.

Fleur Delacour instantly averted her eyes so she wouldn’t have to look into Harry’s tortured green eyes. The part veela read the pain etched on Harry’s face like an open book and naturally assumed it was because of her. While that assessment was not entirely untrue – Fleur by virtue of being a French part veela resembled the other French veela quite a bit – it was very unfair, both to herself and to Harry. But alas, veela – even part veela – were extremely empathetic creatures. It was why control of one’s emotions and bodily functions was such a crucial task for any veela and a major point of vulnerability for those who remained ignorant of their heritage. Without control, a veela was her very own worst enemy.

With tears stinging her eyes, Fleur apologized fervidly to a confused Harry as she sought escape. Suddenly all she wanted to do was to sink into the floor and crawl into a corner to die. But, alas, her ever dependable friend, Regine, refused to let her go just yet. Locking her legs, Regine tipped her over so that the distraught girl ended up splayed on her abdomen on top of the large bed.

“If the front way doesn’t work, you could always try the back door.”

Harry almost snorted at the tall blonde’s blunt suggestion while Fleur gaped speechlessly at her friend. Regine, however, was completely serious as she quickly cast a charm on Fleur that had the effect of performing an enema.

“Besides, you have been practicing for weeks.” Fleur gave a feeble excuse, something about him being bigger. Regine wasn’t convinced.

“Oh come on, Fleur. If not now, when would you be ready? This is a perfect opportunity. That is if you are willing to try, master. This will be your first time, right?”

Somewhere along the way, Harry managed to figure out the girls’ strange conversation, thereby avoid having to give the standard, oh-so-intelligent ‘what’ response, or the ‘duh’ crossed eyed look.

“Yes on both accounts.” Harry answered, lingering on the blonde veela’s firm derriere. Fleur’s head turned so that he managed to look into her puffy red eyes. Suddenly, the young man chanced upon what was making Fleur so batty.

‘Oh Fleur, you foolish girl.’ Harry thought. But his planned statement died on his lips as Regine guided his cock into the crevice between Fleur’s ass cheeks.

“I’m so jealous of you Fleur. You get to have your arse broken in first by Harry as well.” Fleur only gasped in pleasure as the very tip of the male veela’s member slipped inside. Whatever resolve Harry might have had for stopping left him completely.

“Are you sure, Fleur?” The veela’s response only vaguely sounded like an ‘oui,’ but her pretty blonde head bounced enthusiastically up and down. That was good enough for him.

“As you wish.” Harry answered as he flexed his muscles and joints one last time before locking into position all but his essential body parts.

Every neural sensor within the quarter-veela’s body seemed to come alive as inch by inch the remarkably endowed young man slid into her painfully tight anal hole. It wasn’t very slow or gentle, but neither was it exceedingly fast or rough. It was just a couple’s first time having anal sex. But the novelty of the experience made Fleur hornier and wetter than a bitch in a heat. Incidentally, she became so vocal and squirmed so much that the whole affair was almost shot. Luckily her ever dependent best friend, Regine, was on hand to stabilize the situation. In a display of remarkable charms skills, the recent Beauxbatons graduate erected in rapid succession several localized silencing charms on Fleur while pinning the veela’s flailing limbs with locking spells. Impressive especially as Regine’s other hand did not stray from the task of furiously pumping her own dripping pussy.

At this point Fleur’s mouth was permanently opened in the form of a silent ‘O’ shaped scream. And two orgasms or rather two continuous series of orgasms later, she finally felt Harry unload his seed into her anus. The French girl buried her head in the pillows as she allowed herself to be carried off by the waves of pleasure through another titanic release. The only words she could think of were ‘mon dieu’ and let it not be said that Fleur often used god’s name in vain.

Tears of joy flowed from eyes that were filled with sadness not too long ago. Despite having two of her holes plundered in rather crude fashions, Fleur felt more beautiful and more satisfied than she ever was since seeing Harry again. She had brought her master immense sexual pleasure via a novel venue. What greater task, what greater honor could the Alpha of a harem hope for?

The satiated and gasping forms of Harry and Regine, who came to her own climactic (though less Earth shattering) finish not long after, dropped down beside Fleur. Harry in particular had the most insane grin. He wasn’t quite sure if he was a ‘breast man’ yet – none of the girls he had slept with had exactly double DDs – but he was pretty bloody sure he was an ‘arse man’. Only the physical limitations of his still less than optimal body kept the male veela from going for round two with the other hot blonde nearby. Instead Harry used an arm to envelope his Alpha, reveling in the comfort that only the warm flesh of a freshly fucked female could provide. Fleur made a delightful little sound as he squeezed one of her breasts from behind.

The-Boy-Who-Lived smirked as he felt himself drifting away. Oh, he wasn’t worried. There would be plenty of opportunities for more careful and thorough exploration of his girls’ sexual limits in the future.

-----END LEMON-----

Harry and Fleur regained consciousness to see Regine hovering above them. The human girl was clearly tired as well yet still she went about, diligently cleaning the excesses of the couple’s exertions the old fashioned way using warm towels. There was just something missing when a cleaning charm was used in the aftermath of such an intimate moment.

Fleur thanked her friend warmly before turning to Harry.

“I didn’t know about what they were going to do, ‘arry. I swear.” She said, her voice cracking slightly. A much more controlled Harry nodded in understanding. He did feel like an arse for letting his Alpha think that somehow he held her responsible for what had happened. But really, Fleur should have known better; she was technically the ‘adult’. Of course she wasn’t to blame for her kin’s actions especially when she had been targeted as well.

“It’s alright. You couldn’t have known.” Harry answered reassuringly as he affectionately nuzzled against his Fleur’s back, laying soft kisses all along her neck. His arms wrapped fully around her front as he pulled her willing body into a classic spooning position. Soon after, an exhausted Regine slid behind the male veela, completing the Harry sandwich.

For minutes, the three rested in complete silence.

“‘arry. I waz zinking…”

Harry quickly shushed his Alpha by slipping a finger to her lips.

“Think tomorrow. Rest now.” With a quick wandless charm, Harry had his and the girls’ tangled bodies covered with a large bed sheet.

As he felt his girls slipping away, the young male veela wanted to say something big, something grandiose. He wanted to praise them for how they unflinchingly stood up to the other veela, laud them for how valiantly they fought and applaud them for how well they worked together in those life and death situations. But then Harry thought better of it. Ornamented words wouldn’t have done them justice. He settled for a simple statement without any embellishment.

“I’m very proud of you girls.”

Tears edged out of Fleur’s eyes as she leaned back into Harry as if trying to curl up further against him. It was a difficult task to be sure, but somehow she succeeded. The part veela’s heart soared with joy and she knew Regine felt the same.

“Nous t’aimons, ‘arry.”

“Je vous aimes, aussi.” Harry responded in kind, uttering words similar to the words uttered months ago in Beauxbatons’s carriage. The three lovers felt their soul burn brightly with loving warmth as they exchanged and renewed an implicit vow with one another. The bonds Harry shared with Fleur and Regine had passed their first test with flying colors and were stronger than ever.

Dumbledore, Voldemort, and all their shenanigan plots and manipulations took second place to Harry Potter’s feeling of standing at the top of the world. Yet as the young man allowed the glow of his girls’ love lull him into a gentle slumber, he couldn’t entirely shake off a cynical thought. It was the thought that those who fell the hardest and those who fell never to rise again were often from the very top and had once led charmed lives as well. In the aftermath of a near catastrophe, the male veela scarcely dared to think about the possibility of losing one of his two present girls. It was an understandable if unfortunate residue hubris of the Boy-Who-Lived turned Boy-Who-Was-Veela.

Ah, if Harry only knew that the non-voluntary turnover rate of Thanatos’s personal harem was over 200% in the course of his documented lifetime. But then he was young and must, therefore, be allotted his quota of naïve innocence. Still, he was also the ‘male veela’ and that fact alone precluded him from being too naïve and too innocent for too long.

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Translation:

Soeur – Sister

Donc, je veux que vous, salopes, foutiez le camps sur l’heure et disparaissez de ma vue à tout jamais – Then I want you cunts to get the hell out of here (now) and (I never want to see you again)

S’il vous plait - Please

Oui, bien sûr, votre altesse – Yes, of course, your highness.

Nous t’aimons – We love you.

Je vous aimes, aussi – I love you, too.

Gaul – Region of Western Europe which included pre-modern France and Spain.

Volga – Located in Western Russia. Refers to the river (or region around the river) that makes up the core of the biggest river system in Europe.