The Veela's Vow

Fleur Delacour made her way down one of the many hallways of the castle, exploring the famed institution. She was currently having a hard time finding the appeal of the school; it was dark, gloomy, and dull, and though she had not interacted much with the students, she already knew that they were of an equal variety. Fleur was grateful that there was nobody in the hallway she was exploring. She was currently under a disillusionment charm, and it would be rather hard to explain if someone seemingly crashed into thin air.

Her reason as to why she had rendered herself invisible was not nearly as hard to explain, though most would care little for her explanation. Throughout her entire life, she had always been special, even for a witch. She was a Veela, and incredibly powerful one at that. Her magic (both normal and her Veela abilities) was far stronger than others her age, something she was immensely proud of.

Her beauty was greater than anyone she had ever seen. She was even part of the main line of the Delacour family, one of the most influential and powerful wizarding lines in all of France. And if that was somehow not enough, her father was Jean Delacour, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in the French Ministry.

Unfortunately, the combination of luck had not been particularly helpful to Fleur, and was certainly not as pleasant as one might expect it to be. She had been ostracized for as long as she could remember, many people teasing her out of amusement when she was younger, and then due to jealousy. Boys could not talk to her properly for longer than 15 seconds, and girls could not go half as long without showing some sign of envy. She had never even had so much as a friend, if you excluded her little sister, something she often did.

Before she had been ostracized for being perfect, she had been ostracized for the opposite. Veela tended to go through puberty in their mid teenage years, resulting in many people poking fun at Fleur's youth for many, many years.

She had been incredibly lucky that her father was who he was, as it deterred many of her classmates from treating her poorly, at least when in the presence of others. It was unlikely that the students of Hogwarts knew anything about her father, especially considering the way many of them stared at her. It was a clear sign that a majority of the upcoming year was likely to be spent in the Beauxbatons Carriage, more specifically her room. It was fine with Fleur; she had certainly expected it.

If she did choose to venture through Hogwarts, she would likely have to do so under her disillusionment charm, especially considering she had very few of the benefits she had back in France. Her time in Beauxbatons had gone far better than it should have, though that was in part due to Madame Maxime. She too was familiar with the prejudices of the wizarding world (as she was undoubtedly a half-giant), and therefore allowed Fleur a bit of leeway.

Perhaps she just felt sympathetic for Fleur, especially with her having to deal with the petty rumours spread by her classmates.

As if those imbeciles knew a thing about Veela.

It was rather irritating for Fleur to hear so many people speak falsities on Veela behind her back. There was certainly not such a thing as a part Veela, you were either a Veela or you weren't one. In fact, a Veela was merely a witch with a hereditary ability, allowing them their immense beauty, allure, and more. Yet they were still considered to be 'creatures', regardless of the fact that if anyone chose to check with Gringotts (or even the many records held within the equally large amount of Ministries) they would undoubtedly realise the truth. Not that anyone would ever do such a thing, of course.

It was one of the reasons she was so dearly anticipated a chance to compete for the Triwizard Tournament. The tournament was mainly under the control of the British Ministry, which Fleur knew to be extremely bigoted. It would be extremely satisfying to see the faces of the staunch British Purebloods upon hearing that a Veela had won.

Fleur also looked forward to proving her superiority to the other Beauxbatons students. The last several years at Beauxbatons had largely consisted of being belittled by her peers. Their words had quickly gone from hurting her to inspiring her to do better, and it was not time to display the results of her hard work. She had spent the majority of her time in Beauxbatons increasing her already powerful magic, something that had begun to show many, many years prior.

It was also due to the antagonizing of her peers that Fleur was so closed off. It was exceptionally rare for Fleur to meet someone who did not despise her in any way. While it had upset her a great deal when she was younger, it had eventually developed the cold persona that Fleur almost always wore.

It was a shame Fleur had to constantly wear such a thing; in reality, Fleur was rather feisty, protective, caring and kind, not that most knew that. She only ever took the mask off around her family, and when she was alone within the privacy of her strongly-warded room within Beauxbatons.

That was another thing that irritated Fleur: Almost everybody in Beauxbatons knew that she spent most of her free time in her room, and yet many female students had still chosen to spread rumours about her, even though everyone knew they were false. Claims that she would use her allure to steal boyfriends, or perhaps to seduce students, were commonly heard within the confines of the Beauxbatons Chateaux. It didn't seem to matter to anyone that Fleur could not recall so much as touching anyone not in her family.

As if those rumours matter. I am the best; I always have been. The rumours spread by those jealous of me will not matter in the end.

It was true, after all. When she was selected as the Beauxbatons Champion, she would represent the school in front of the entire world. Millions would see each task live, and many more would read about it in the newspapers. After that, a happy future would be practically guaranteed, another reason as to why she was more than willing to compete.

It was certainly more than her peers would be able to say. They had chosen to waste away the last six years of their lives, spending their time seeking pleasure and comfort from people who meant nothing to them. Their lives would change drastically within the next two years, and unlike Fleur's, it would not be for the better.

Fleur made her way down to the second floor, before pausing upon hearing a voice in what appeared to be an empty hallway.

" - and that grumpy old portrait will be helping too, to make sure everything goes smoothly. But either way, the choice is entirely yours. We'll do it in a week or so, okay?" said a male voice.

Fleur's eyes narrowed significantly. It wasn't because there was a boy nearby; she was under the disillusionment charm, she would not be seen. It was the fact that the boy's voice seemed to be coming from the bathroom about five metres away from her, which happened to be a girl's lavatory.

The door of the second floor bathroom swung wide open, revealing the boy in question. He was relatively attractive in appearance, though he had still clearly not finished his growth; his cheekbones were just as high as hers, his skin tone fairly similar. The boy's hair was jet black in colour, his eyes a unique shade of emerald. He was wearing Gryffindor house robes, a beautiful snowy white owl perched upon his right shoulder.

Harry Potter.

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