Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise. I do own my right to fantasize. See what I did there?

Chapter 6 - Veela and Sun

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The first time that I saw him at the Triwizard tournament, I thought he was beautiful.

He had long red curls that rests on his shoulders, pale and freckled skin.

His freckles concentrate on his sharp cheekbones and tall profound nose.

And his eyes remind me of the clear blue sky of a winter sea.

He was standing at the far end of the benches, watching with a spectacled man who appears to be a few years younger than he is. They look alike, but he stood out a lot more. He is taller with broad shoulders and a stony gait. Everyone was giving us applause as we pass by, but he does not move an inch.

He just stands there, passively watching at us like a content hunter who watches his prey.

Even the aloof red head's younger brother, the man who I now know as Percy, would casually clap as he witnesses our parade of participants.

He was different, so out of place.

And when he glanced at me with those sharp piercing eyes, sounds and movement stopped.

The voices, the cheers, the crowd.

For a split second, the universe stopped when we looked at each other.

My heart painfully skipped a beat, my legs are beginning to fail me.

If it had not been for my friends who were by my side at that time, I would have fallen to my knees from the immense joy of seeing who he really was. He might have gone on with his day, watching the rest of the event which I remember little about. But I could not move function with his distancing presence.

I was too enamored by his presence, to overwhelmed.

I could tell that he was much older than me, about five or six years.

He might have thought that I was just some silly girl, chasing victory over trivial recognition.

The tournament does not matter to me anymore, the girls can forgive me.

Here is the man that I have chosen to spend my life with.

And it kills me, it kills me that he is yet to think of me otherwise.

But I did not care, he was right there in front of me.

All I must do now, is to take him.

No matter what our differences are, he is mine.

When the parade was over, my priority is to hunt him down.

It was easy to find him.

He was hanging around with his brothers after the parade, permitting a small smile to express from his stony face as one of his siblings decided to say something funny. The young man with glasses and a much younger boy who appears to be infatuated with me, turn around to confront when I appear.

"Pardon, may I speak with you please?" I bravely ask him directly, trying my best to be alluring.

"A-are you talking to me? Why yes, of course!" The younger boy, who I eventually learn to be known as Ron, agrees to my request. But my request was not intended for him.

"She's talking to Bill, you dolt." The man with glasses points out, pulling his younger brother away from us, and thankfully giving us more privacy.

Left on our own, but still being witnessed by many people, I genuinely smile at my love.

"Ravi de vous rencontrer, Bill. Nice to meet you." I tell him, watching him closely as he raises his brow and peers at the growing audience behind us.

"My brothers and friends call me Bill. You can call me William." He corrects.

"William..such lovely name." I swoon, preferring his real name instead of the pet name that his brother called him with. Although it hurts me that I am not considered as someone close to him, his introduction is more than enough for me to be more than satisfied. He is introducing himself freely and casually.

"My name is Fleur Delacour." I manage to inform, remembering my current situation.

"So, I've heard. What would you like to speak about, Miss Delacour?" He asks me with articulation that is used when conversing with an uninteresting stranger.

His tone disturbs me greatly, making me slightly tremble and loss much of my confidence.

Usually, due to my Veela heritage, men would easily succumb to be looks and my actions.

But this man, he is not at all influenced.

This is the first time that someone is not looking at me with fondness or fear.

He is looking down on me, domineering.

I am nothing to him, just someone he is inclined to pay attention to.

My maman told me that when I find him, he would the one and only man who is not affected by my heritage. My attractiveness would not matter to my mate, he would see me like any ordinary girl. My beauty or poise would be ignored, he can only love me through my actions and my words.

This man is not affected by my spell.

This is it. He is the one.

And I am both happy and nervous at the same time.

I longed for the day that I would find someone who would not fall for what I am.

And now he is here, a few feet away from me.

Maman told me that I should find him as soon as possible, but I guess I did not find him sooner.

His presence is like drinking fine wine, drinking from him is a luxury that can be abused.

And I feel it, my drunkenness.

My body cannot wait, shivering and radiating cool and hot sensations simultaneously.

I cannot wait any longer, I am physically aching to touch him, to have him touch me.

I could feel his emotions, his dismal perception about life in general.

He has been waiting for so long, not knowing what he was waiting for.

I do not smell any feminine notes from his gorgeously masculine scent, he was never tarnished. He was never attained by anyone. He lived all these years without seeing the interest to do so, and I could not believe that he did not even try to waver. His personality prevents him to do so, his want is solace.

He had no use of relationships with anyone, until now.

I will make him see me, and he will want no one else.

If I do not bring us to a more private location, I can take him here right now.

Having difficulty to control my breathing, I quickly take his hand and feel instantaneously better.

I sigh with relief. He is someone I should not let go.

"Are you alright? Would you like me to escort you to the Hospital Wing?" He asks, required to be concerned when someone looks breathless around them.

"Oui s'il vous plaît…I am not feeling well." I tell him, now clinging at his arm, pretending to look sicker. My heart flutters when he picks me up to his arms without hesitation, he then proceeds to decisively walk towards the direction of the infirmary. He orders people to make way, leaving his gaping brothers.

"The hospital wing is just two hallways away, try to stay conscious until then." He tells me, I nod quietly.

Resting my face on his chest, I could not control myself as I purr all the way. He does not seem to be bothered by the sound I make. If anything, my purring makes his movements faster. Perhaps he thinks that my sounds are symptoms to my possible ailment that could not be cured by medicine or potions.

"We're almost there." He assures, causing me to whimper. His worried eyes are driving me mad.

I need his eyes to worry about something else, like making me comfortable as he takes my virginity.

I break into a cold sweat, involuntary shuddering from anticipation.

Arriving at the hospital wing, he let me rest at the foot of a bed as he tries to locate a mediwitch.

But no one is there.

And without considering the consequences, my brain started to function without me.

"I don't see Madam Pomfrey..I don't see patients either. I am guessing that they decided to make a makeshift clinic for the next round. I guess everyone is there..Do you know the location for the next round? You're a competitor so, you would know where the next round would be?" He queries.

He was facing the bed where he left me, but I was not there anymore.

Within a few seconds, I managed to reach the entrance and then closed the doors of the large room.

With my wand, I vehemently attack the doors with binding lock and silencing charm.

I rest my forehead on the wooden surface of the doors, trying to rein my instincts to a readable form which I can properly interpret for him. But I cannot. I cannot even explain what I feel with words. And my actions are hardly my own at this point. Maman told me that I should find him sooner than later.

Because if I do not, my feminine execution of this introduction will be compromised.

The large room with high ceilings, echoes my gasping for air. The stained windows pass a cooling breeze that makes the empty space more profound and very present. As I try to control myself, I listen for any questioning from my man. I was expecting questions or demands, but he chooses to be silent.

Reluctantly, I turn around to find him slightly out of his element, but he still regards me like a chore.

Even if I approach him, he continues to look down on me. When I arrive to stand mere inches away from him, he still watches me like I was not someone he should be afraid of. I feel small as he towers before me, watching me as if I could be swallowed whole and there is nothing that could prevent him to do so.

And I want to. I want to be consumed by him.

"It appears you alright, seeing as you were able to run all the way to the other side of the room and lock the doors with magic. That binding lock and silencing charm are rather basic, which tells me that you are not a professional and you are not a spy for my clients. So, what exactly are your motives?" He asks.

"Clients?" I question, trying to stall. Not ready to answer the question.

"I work as a curse breaker at the Gringotts Wizarding Bank. I can unlock this room easily, without asking the pattern that you applied for your binding spells and silencing charms. As a curse breaker, dealing with more sophisticated and obnoxious curses is my specialty. Now, tell me your motives." He quips.

"Merde." I mutter, resting my casting arm on my hip.

I love intelligent men.

"Language. I may be rusty with my French, but I still know what that word means." He corrects with a judgmental glare.

Even when he is cross with me, treating me like a child, my love is still so riveting to look at.

Merlin, this man will be the death of me.

"Je suis un Veela. Tu es mon âme soeur. Je te veux." I whisper, conscious with my admission.

"What?" He asks with a frown.

I do not know if he heard what I said, or if he could not believe what I just confided.

I look away, embarrassed that I tried to explain myself, saying what I said in English will only make me stutter and fumble with the words. And my last three words are so embarrassing, but I could not help it. He is just inches away from me, his presence is so weakening that I am not strong enough to be sober.

He tips my chin with his long fingers, demanding my attention.

His smoldering eyes are still clear and now reflecting the afternoon sun. With his red hair and his eyes that show a hint of sunset, and his inviting lips that surrounds his elaborate mouth. His mouth that could is intricate as the renaissance ceiling above us. I cannot hear sounds, not my heart or his words.

I can only hear his voice, rough and deep, and mysterious.

"Expliquer à nouveau. Expliquez lentement." He asks me, and my legs fidget uncontrollably.

His French is not accurate but hearing him use my language is making me so aroused.

Sweat cling to my undergarments, liquid excretion is pooling from my underwear.

Without hesitation, I push him hard until he loses his balance and fall on his back at the bed us.

"Je n'en peux plus. Je ne peux pas!" I express, tossing my coat on the floor and grappling his upper torso with my legs.

He does not struggle, watching my behavior with intrigue.

Using my wand, I rip of his coat off and shirt without his consent. And then with trembling hands, I feel his chest that is now heaving erratically. His skin feels amazing under my hands, and my body want to touch him even more. I can feel my wings poking through my clothes, wanting to be free.

I take of my blouse and let my wings spread out, surrounding us. I watch he takes out a fray white feather from my plumage. He looks at my wings with wonder. I watch as his perception towards me evolves into curiosity and then understanding. He does not dare move an inch, knowing what this is.

He knows what I am.

He knows.

But much to relief, he's not making a scene.

"Veela." He simply acknowledges.

His acknowledgment, his understanding, brings tears to my eyes.

I did not think it would be this easy. But I did not think it would be this hard either.

I then grind at him, shamelessly.

He grunts due to my weight on him, tolerating as I explore his body.

As I push my hips towards his pelvis, I nibble at his neck and press myself even more on him.

I could hear myself moaning and gasping for more. The friction caused by my undergarments is not enough. He tried to pull himself up, realizing what my actions are leading to. But I keep my balance on him, not wanting him to prevent this happening. Because it is happening. This is happening.

For some time, I just rub myself on him.

Eventually he started to physically react to me. Without taking his eyes of me, he hitches his breath as I can feel his bulge rub underneath my underwear. Wanting him to be even more aroused with me, I take of my bra and let my breasts took his bare chest. He hisses, finding the new sensation to be a surprise.

I was about to unzip his trousers, but he takes my face from his clavicle and then searches my eyes for any signs of civility or hesitation. I look back at him with desperation, wanting him to understand that I must do this. My body can no longer function without him, I need him. I must have him.

If I do not, I will feel like dying.

I will die If I do not have him.

If he does not have me.

Without a word, he turns me so that I am underneath him. As I catch my breath, he takes off the rest of his clothes. Slowly and carefully, he then takes off my lingerie. I did not bother to cover myself up, too hot and bothered by my current disposition, I just watch him as his eyes considers everything about me.

I tried to reach for him, but he takes my arms and raise them above my head, he then kisses me on the lips. His kiss is hesitant at first, but then he becomes surer and more confident. He licks my lips and I allow his tongue to wrestle with mine. And then he pushes his torso towards me, slow and precise.

I start to cry, knowing what his kisses mean. After kissing my mouth, he licks the tears falling to my chin and then down my neck. I sob when he started licking my breast, kneading them with his fingers. His touches are so gentle and yet assuring. But when he rested his hands on my hips, he evolves.

He sighs on my upper thigh, warning me about what he is about to do. I tremble and tip my head on the pillow, but I dare not show hesitation. And then he lowers his head even more, licking my folds exquisitely to the point that I could not longer control myself. I gasp as he causes me to orgasm.

As I tremble uncontrollably, he soothes me by massaging my hips with his thumbs. Silently and patiently, he eats me out, licking me thoroughly until traces of my orgasm no longer remain. He then continues his onslaught with his fingers. I bite my right pointer finger as my left hand occasionally pulls on his hair.

He started with one finger at first, and then two. He fingered me slowly and then faster and faster.

I had to fist the pillow on my head, preventing myself from clawing him. When he causes another orgasm, my wings weakly flutter. The air that is pushed by my wings feels cool and refreshing. But that was all that my wings could do, impaled my body and his. As he licks my folds again, I touch myself.

He did not like it when I started to touch myself, raising himself to face me and taking my hands. He brings my arms around his neck, and then gives me a stern look. He dips to bring his mouth unto mine, and as he kisses me, he fingers me consistently. Keeping me stimulated and close to being ready.

"Will..William." I try to get his attention in between his kisses, but he is so focused and resolved. I could not get his attention. "William…mon amour..please…" I beg, wanting him to understand.

He stiffens, finally returning his eyes on mine.

Passion and lust. That is what I see in his eyes.

"Dites plus mon amour, dites mon nom. Dis qui je suis pour toi." He requests, giving a light kiss on the lips before he settles himself on top of me.

I gasp as he enters me in an excruciatingly slow manner. My wings cringe and then pulls him towards me, I claw his back as he settles in. He feels painful at first, but as the pain ebbed, I could not get enough of him. When I started to calm down, loosening my fingers on his back, he starts gradually moves.

"Mon amour..William..Tu te sens tellement bien. Mon amour.." I tell him, tightening my hold on his back.

He keeps his intense gaze at me as he pushes back and forth, perhaps trying to gauge if I am comfortable or not. But I feel so at peace, knowing that he is finally inside me. I kiss him from time to time as he focuses on violating me thoroughly. He would kiss back, other time he would close his eyes.

When he closes his eyes, I focus on his breathing.

Hearing him breath in between his shoves is comforting. I would feel around his chest as he keeps a steady pattern. When his fingers press above my vagina, I release an orgasm that causes me to curve my spine. I was practically boneless, but he raises my upper and hold on to me as I ride my high.

"Mon amour..William.. You are my world. My everything." I express.

Feeling his chest on mine, he wraps my legs around his waist, he then supports my back and waits patiently for me to look at him. "Together." He simply instructs, encouraging me by jolting himself inside me. I gasp, finding this new position to be invasive yet more responsive for both of us.

I push back with every thrust, letting my breast rub his chest. The friction is more, the movements are more intense. I hear him struggle along with me, hearing him gasp by my ear. When both of us reach our release, I tighten my hold on him. I can feel him throbbing inside me, filling me with his semen.

My wings cover us momentarily before they fold and are absorbed by my back. We have mated and my veela heritage is satisfied. Having spent himself well, he decides to lie back on the bed but does not pull himself out of me yet. I then kiss him languidly and let him abuse my breasts with his hands.

I whimper when I feel him hardening inside me, aroused by my touch. I give his tongue one last tug before focusing on satisfying him once again. He winces when I push at him, he tried to control me by holding on to my waist. But my ministrations become demanding and fast, causing him to grit his teeth.

"Mon amour, William..you're mine..mine..my love.. Tu es à moi et je suis à toi." I tell him as I push and pull him inside me, over and over again. He caresses my breast, fisting them and pulling my nipples from time to time. When he senses that I am waning due to exhaustion, he would take over.

As I bounce on him, he gradually pushes back with more strength and fervor. I tried to respond with more intensity, but his abuse is so good that I can feel myself weakening. Having regained his stamina, he allows me to lie down and rest my legs on his shoulders as he pushes at me with reckless abandon.

Fisting my breast, he aggressively drives into me, causing me to moan and shout his name from time to time. He is consuming me like a god, overpowering me with his strength and his power over. As the sun bids goodbye from the horizon, the last beams of light surround his head like a halo.

It was like the sun was absorbed by him, and he took the light and is now transferring last rays of the day to me. And the rays feel light and warm, piercing and demanding me to release it back to the world.

With a strangled scream, I release myself. Lubricated by my secretion, he pushes faster and deeper. I watch as he catches his own high, tucking some of his hair behind his ear. With one last push, he shudders and empties himself, I absorb him and trace circles on his back while he recovers.

Lying on his side, he makes himself comfortable on my side. We look at each other as we regulate our breathing, trying to read whether we have accepted what happened without regrets or second thoughts. I offer my hand between the ocean of our small bed, offering him the final decision.

"Can I call you Bill now?" I ask.

He takes my hand and smiles.

"No." He answers, causing me to frown.

He then kisses me, pushing his tongue in ways that lovers can only understand.

"Call me William. Only you, can call me William." He explains.

I smile back, trying to sear his beautiful freckled and content face at the back of my mind.

He looks more genuine now, more of himself.

His eyes that were cool and nonchalant, reflects the warmth of the afternoon light.

The sun left us, but the light beside me is still soaring bright and radiant.

My William.

My sun.

My love.

Mine.