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Fleur Delacour

Femme Fatale

Fleur Delacour

Blue Fleur

Femme Fatale

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Sultry smile
Fury boils through my veins. Sated, like a fucked cur, all I can do is lay here while the bastard falls asleep. Selfish fucking bastard. I wish that I did not love him so much. The scalding love bleeds forth from me, my love is so great, like acid in my veins. It eats away at me now.

Would that tonight was for amusement, a sex game derived to imbue our carnal interaction with heat and sport for pleasure. But no, this encounter was for nothing more than ego and possession, things that raise bile to my throat.

His breathing has long steadied and sleep has overcome his replete senses; his need is fulfilled. Yet still I burn not with sensual appetite but with stinging rage at the price demanded at my expense…an expense that he will never afford to pay in his recent temperament. I question his character and pray that some vile illness has invaded his mind, an illness that his body will fight and conquer in time.

Yet I fear his only infirmity is that of himself. He is the disease that he alone must cure.

I am torn. Torn between wanting to offer myself up to him in order to ease the pain he forces upon himself and wanting to lash out at him for making our lives so miserable. So what do I do? I merely lie here and take the abuses because of how much I care for him.


With the force driven by my anger I position my feet at the dog’s arse and back and shove with all my might. His still-sleeping form slowly rolls closer to the edge of the bed and then plummets to the floor, accompanied by Bill’s surprised shout as he lands with a large thump. Then I hear a groan as I scramble to the opposite side and jump from the bed before I march to one of the wardrobes and fling it open. With a snatch I grab blankets and a spare pillow before he can completely comprehend what is happening.

“What the bloody hell…,” he grumbles as he tries to disentangle himself from the sheets and stand. When he does I thrust the linens in his face, which he catches with a muffled huff.

“You act like ze cur zen you will sleep like ze dog zat you are!” I scream, “On ze floor for all I care!” I snatch at him and shove him to the bedroom door, desperate to force him out of the room before he completely regains his faculties. With a gasp of breath I succeed and then slam the door behind him, locking it quickly. The first bang against the wood is expected, but it surprises me all the same.

“No door can lock me out of there, Fleur!” he yells before his fists pound the door again. “You forget what I do for a living!”

“But you ‘ave never opened a cursed room zat ‘eld an angry Veela before, ‘ave you?” I reply and the hammering stops. Silence. “Come through zat door, curse-breaker, and you will ‘ave to sit like a woman to piss for ze rest of your worthless life!”

“You can’t keep me out forever, Fleur!”

“Who said anything about forever?” I snap, “Zis is only until you decide to stop acting like ze ‘orse’s arse and start treating me with ze reverence I deserve, vous porc!” With that I turn and walk back to our bed to straighten the sheets and pillows so I can go back to sleep. In the hallway I hear Bill’s voice mumbling some irritating nonsense about his manhood.

“I am not listening!” I cover my ears with my delicate hands. “I am not listening to you, la, la, la, la, la, not listening!” I say in a sing-song voice and eventually his inane babble stops.

I do not hear his footsteps moving away before I force myself into uneasy sleep.

The next morning I bathe and dress quickly. It is the morning in which I will meet with the twins to discuss the particulars and parameters of the new advertising campaign. Bill Weasley picked an inopportune time to raise my anger at him. He wants me to end my work with his brothers. A bigger fool than Bill Weasley I do no know at this moment.

So I open the door of our bedroom, determined not to let him talk about the events of last night until I feel like discussing them. When the door swings wide all that I see in the hallway is the pillow and a tangled blanket in my way. He might have waited for hours, even fallen asleep on the floor here. Although at some point in the night he moved, probably because he would not want me to see him there. So he has moved, but to where?

When I walk through the cottage in the early morning light I see him sleeping on the sofa in the parlor. His gangly legs lay propped over the arm’s edge and a sheet is threaded between his knees, then under and around his naked body. He looks peaceful this way, something that is a great rarity during this time of strife for him. His jaw is not clenched in frustrated thought and worry over nothing. I wish he could be this way in his waking hours as well. I walk over to him and look down at him. His calm breathing comes out in gentle puffs.

I slowly run my hand from his knee upward to the warm flesh of his crotch. He twitches slightly with a sigh and a smile. A smile on his perfect lips…

That quickly disappears as he rouses to consciousness when I grab the skin of his scrotum and grind it between my fingertips. He gasps in pain as he attempts to sit up to scramble away from me. But I came prepared and I slide the tip of my wand against his bare throat, resting it against the vein beneath his ear.

“Fleur,” he snarls, “Let go you crazy fucking witch.”

“Do not move,” I spit down at him, my face nearly touching his. “If you ever touch me again with ze same irreverence you did last night, I will turn you from a cock to ze ‘en without ze mercy of magic.” He opens his mouth to speak and I release his balls. His hands instantly cover his crotch in possessive protection.

“Fleur,” he rasps in controlled rage.

“NO!” I scream at his face. “You do not ‘ave ze right to speak to me zis time!” He opens and closes his mouth. “SHUT IT!” I shout. “My fazzer beat my mozzer when I was a small girl so I will kill you before I let you touch me like zat again. Do you comprehend?”

He sits silently, defiantly.

“Do you comprehend?” I snap as I press the tip of my wand into his neck. His jaw clenches and he nods once, very quickly.

“Good!” I stand before I abruptly turn to walk out of the front door on my way to meet with Fred and George.
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