Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Rewritten as 27/5/16.

Fleur Weasley, nee Delacour, let out a relaxed sigh as she prepared to apparate into her own home, happy that she had the opportunity to finally relax. Her last few weeks were akin to torture, due to a new discovery in one of the pyramids, she needed to work almost until morning every day, even weekends. Some days were so bad that she couldn't even gather the energy to apparate to her home, instead crashing into a couch in the office.

But fatigue hadn't been the only challenge for her. She was a veela, and therefore quite sexual. It hadn't been a challenge for her before marriage, never experiencing its intoxicating grab. However, now that she got used to at least semi-regular sex thanks to her married state, she was almost in withdrawal, like she was trying to quit smoking.

Despite her fatigue, she was feeling quite elated. Her work was completed, and she even got a two week holiday, same with her husband. Excitement flowed inside her as she imagined all the things they could do in this two-week span. Maybe she could even convince him to do some stuff he denied before.

Her blue eyes started to seek her husband as soon as her soles pressed the floor of her own home, finding him in lying on a couch. Without a thought, she walked towards her husband, her allure unconsciously flaring a little. Dipping her head, was about to kiss him, but then she noticed a slightly glassy-eyed look on his face. A bit annoyed despite knowing there is nothing he could do, she pulled back, trying to suppress her enthusiasm.

"Hello honey," Bill said with a smile. "How was your day?"

"It was good," she answered, slight bitterness in her tone went unnoticed. She always hated it whenever she got too enthusiastic, her husband fell under the daze of her allure. Fleur knew that it wasn't his fault, she was unusually gifted, or cursed, in the strength of her allure, it was almost as tough as an Imperius to shook off.

So she sat next to him, and placed her head on his shoulder, enjoying his warmth as he listened to the match, Hollyheads against Magpies. She sighed, relaxed, enjoying the moment of calmness.

However, her comfort was disturbed by a knock on the door. Sighing, she pulled back, striding towards the door. She couldn't help but put some extra swing to her hips, feeling her husbands' eyes glued to her swaying hips. "Come back quickly," Bill shouted from behind, "I have plans for you."

Fleur chuckled a little as she continued towards the door, wondering who it was to drop unannounced. Only a few people had access to the wards, and none of them would arrive without something paramount.

Pulling the door open, she met with one of the last people she would expect in her door.

"Hello, Fleur," the man said with a slightly hesitant expression on his face. "May I come in?"

"Hi, Harry," she answered trying to sound enthusiastic, but she couldn't help a bit of hostility to seep into her voice, annoyed that her plans about her husband were delaying considerably.

"I should go," Harry said hesitantly.

Fleur felt a little bad, no doubt he felt the hostility in her voice. She looked at him carefully. His clothes were in good condition, but mismatched, like he left the home in a hurry, wearing the first pieces he managed to reach. Fleur felt a little bad, she knew Harry was famous for almost never asking for any favors, so whatever brought him here must have been something important. "No Harry, please come in," she said, keeping her voice pleasant. "I insist."

"Thanks, Fleur," Harry answered, a small, but bright smile blossoming on his face as he stepped inside.

She followed him, hoping that her husband wouldn't be annoyed that they had a surprise guest. Walking behind, she heard her husband greet Harry enthusiastically, and started to bombard him comments about Quidditch.

Fleur smiled a little, glad that at least her husband didn't take it too seriously. She chose to sat in the chair, picking up a magazine to browse, reasoning if Harry didn't push to talk instantly, the problem cannot be that urgent.

She heard her husband asking why Harry was here when the match slowed a bit.

"Well," Harry started explaining. "Ginny and I had a small fight." Hearing this, Fleur couldn't help but wince reflexively. While usually pleasant, Ginny was an absolute fireblast whenever she was ticked off. She found it a bit weird that Harry and she had a fight, as Ginny almost worshiped at Harry, but if Harry's slightly amused expression was any indicator, it must be something small that was blown out of proportions, considering he was amused instead of being dejected.

"So I need a place to stay for a while, and I cannot stay at a hotel, the newspapers would have gone crazy after catching such a break," he continued, making Fleur's thoughts come to a screeching halt. "Can I stay here for a couple of days."

"Of course, you can," Bill chuckled before Fleur could say anything, "You are family after all."

Fleur felt dejected as the both men continued to discuss sports. Despite his bold looks, her husband was relatively puritanical as long as anything sexual was concerned, only bedroom, a limited number of positions and a couple of other silly restrictions. Even then, she wouldn't feel so annoyed if one of these restrictions hadn't been the reluctance to have sex whenever the others were at home. At least his conviction on that rule wasn't something she couldn't overcome with a little bit foreplay, but her plans of finally convincing him to became slightly more adventurous around the home was shot.

"Well, how about I cook you guys dinner, a small way to pay you back for helping me," Harry suddenly spoke, enthusiasm apparent in his voice.

"Oh Harry there is no need, please don't bother" Fleur interjected in panic. She could still remember the state of her kitchen after the last time Bill tried to prepare a surprise dinner, and less said about her fathers' kitchen adventures, the better. The last thing she needed was to spend her time cleaning the kitchen.

"Oh please, it is no bother." He stood up, asking, "Now where was the kitchen?"

"Second door on the right," Fleur said in a slightly drained tone, readying herself for a disaster. She assumed her fears had become the reality when she heard Harry shouting from inside, asking for her help. She started to walk, her steps reminiscent of the last steps of a convict, walking towards the gallows.

The state of the kitchen was radically different than her expectations. Instead of waste filled ground and some burning utensils, she saw two skillets, their contents slowly simmering under a slow fire, while Harry was using a third to glaze some kind of meat pieces, chopping some apples in intricate patterns.

"Hey, Fleur, where do you guys keep the heavy cream, I wasn't able to find," Harry said, as he chopped, his eyes locked on the preparation area.

"Let me check," Fleur answered, trying to skip the shock she was in. "We do have some regular cream if you want," she said after browsing the contents of the fridge for a bit.

"Hmm, I would need to adjust the recipe a bit, but I can't see any reason why it wouldn't work out. Can you help me chop these mushrooms?" he asked, pushing a bag of mushrooms in front of her.

Picking a large blade, she started to dice the mushrooms. "What are we preparing?" she asked, curious.

"Sautéed brussels sprouts and apple with prosciutto," Harry answered. "With the addition of a simple creamed fettucini with chicken breast and mushroom, and some rucola salad with goat cheese on the side."

Fleur listened as he listed the dishes, her mouth watering just with the names of the dishes. Never a fan of English cuisine, the food Harry was preparing sounded extremely appealing to her. "Really Harry, foreign food," she commented, wanting to tease him a little. "What happened to trusty old English cuisine?"

"I know it's not your favorite, so international is a better choice. Also, you didn't hear my wine choice yet."

"What is it?" Fleur asked, feeling a little excited. Growing up in a wealthy family, she developed a taste for good wine, a taste she wasn't able to indulge as much as she wished due to economic concerns.

He turned his head from the preparations, first time since she entered the room, and started speaking. "A 1946 Château Rieussec Sémillon-Sauvignon Blanc, an exquisite white from the dusty corners of the Black cellar." He chuckled a bit, looking at Fleur's slackjawed expression, then continued, "Surprising for a family of blood purist, they have an impressive cellar of mundane wines."

"Thanks, Harry," she said with a full blown smile, stopping herself from enthusiastically hugging him, not wanting to give a wrong impression, but she continued to help him prepare the food. Maybe his stay wasn't such a bad thing after all.

Fleur changed her mind, Harry's stay was a terrible thing. She took a deep breath, trying to suppress her annoyance, after all, it wasn't Harry's fault, he was just trying to be a good host. It was her husband's fault, eating too much, and indulging one too many glasses of whiskey, and now he was sleeping like a pig.

To be fair, Fleur herself hadn't been a paragon of control either, indulging a few more glasses of wine than it was strictly necessary, but different than her husband, it only made her more aroused, not sleepy.

Feeling dejected, she gazed the full body mirror in the room, assessing her reflection. She gazed upon her magnificent breasts, spilling out of the low cut, red negligee she was wearing, with the matching thongs barely covering her enticing womanhood and doing nothing to cover her apple shaped bottom. Her slim but curvy figure was on display thanks to the transparent fabric of her negligee. The fabric wasn't transparent in the chest area, but it was too thin to hide her nipples, rock hard in arousal.

But since her husband preferred to sleep instead of tasting the delicacy she was, she lay down next to him without changing, prepared for the morning.

She had woken up, not with her husband's eager caresses as she assumed, but with the sound of an owl, flapping its wings noisily. Without cracking her eyes, she asked, "What is going on honey, why is there a ruddy bird in our bedroom at this godforsaken hour?"

"Well," he droned in a tone he always used whenever he was about to say something that would annoy his wife.

Fleur opened her eyes, wanting to see what was going on, only to see his husband, already half dressed, trying to fill a small backpack with clothes. "What-is-going-on?" Fleur asked, stressing every word. She could feel that another part of her veela heritage was starting to awaken.

Noticing the signs, Bill quickly explained. "Honey, there is a class 4 emergency in one of the tombs in lower Egypt, I need to go now." Seeing a fireball started to gather in her hand, he quickly rushed to placate her. "But as soon as I get back, we will go to France for a holiday, spending all of my bonus, okay?"

With a frustrated growl, Fleur threw the fireball she was holding at the wall, leaving a scorch mark despite fire-resistance charms. "When you need to leave," Fleur asked, at least hoping for a quicky before he left.

"Now," Bill answered, an apologizing expression on his face, and he disappeared with a swirl of a portkey, leaving her alone in the room.

Fleur stood there for a second, frozen, then started to swear, almost shouting. Her husband just left, leaving her alone for a full week. To make things even worse, she almost went into her alternative shape, she could still feel the primal energies coursing through her body. And one of the drawbacks of these energies was to make her even hornier.

She whimpered, this week was going to be hell.

She rolled around, trying to go back to sleep, but after turning around for a while, she had to admit it was a lost cause. She stood up, walking towards the kitchen in lazy steps, nursing a small hangover. She had a feeling that she forgot something, but unable to pin what it was.

Turning the last corner, she entered to the kitchen, only to froze in shock when she saw a half-naked man in her kitchen, walking like he owns the place. When the man turned in response to her gasp, she recognized Harry. It took a second for her to remember that Harry would be their house guest for a few days. She let herself relax, panic subsiding a little.

"Good morning," Harry said, a mischevious smile appearing on his face. "I was going to apologize for my revealed state, but seeing your state, I assume it's not big of a deal."

It took Fleur a couple seconds to process what he said, instinctively looking down to inspect her clothes. At that moment, she remembered that she was still wearing the negligee from the last night, proving Harry with an early visual feast.

Feeling panicked, she turned and ran, providing Harry with a full sight of her firm ass as a parting gift.

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Back to her room, it took almost half an hour for her to gather herself and go downstairs, wearing a modest white t-shirt and sweatpants. She entered the living room, only to find Harry sitting at the table, his torso was still naked, reading a newspaper.

"Hi Fleur," Harry said with a chipper tone. Hesitating, she sat down at the table, murmuring a neutral reply as she started eating. She appreciated that he mentioned anything about the morning, still feeling too ashamed to comment on it. And for the same reason, she held herself back from commenting on his distinct lack of shirt, fearing the topic would come to her accidental mode of dress.

"Will your husband join us soon, I don't think the eggs will stay good if we keep them under warming charms for too long," Harry suddenly said.

"Unfortunately, there was an emergency at the bank, and Bill will be in Egypt for a week," Fleur answered.

"Oh, I see," Harry calmly commented, and they continued to have breakfast in a comfortable silence.

After breakfast, they moved to chairs, Harry continuing his newspaper, Fleur waiting for an opportunity to excuse herself.

"Do you want some wine," Harry suddenly asked, pointing at the fancy bottle of wine he was holding. "This rosé is one of my favorites," he stated.

"Yes please," Fleur answered without any pause. She didn't usually drink when the sun was still up, but she felt a little wine could help her relax a little, making it a little bearable until she could leave the room. Also, turning down such a good wine would be quite rude.

So she filled a glass, browsing a magazine to pass time, making small talk from time to time. As the time passed, she finished his wine, only to fill one more, then one after that…

As the wine bottle got lighter and lighter, her eyes started to wander around, stealing peeks from his naked body. His body, despite his deceptively thin frame, was quite muscular, a stark divergence from the scrawny little boy she once saw on a cold February day. His body was riddled with scars, but knowing his history, these were only adding at his responses.

She suddenly felt a little guilty, from the fact that she was ogling another man, in her own home even. But she pushed the guilty feeling back, rationalizing that there was no harm in looking. Also, she reasoned, if he had been adverse to it, he would have worn a shirt, instead prancing around, half-naked, all her rationalizations further enhanced by the copious amount of alcohol she was consuming.

Her sudden moral dilemma solved, she let herself enjoy rest of the brunch...

A couple of hours later, Fleur still in the living room, reading a book, yet another glass of wine in her hand. However, her grip on the glass slipped a bit when she was trying to turn the page, drenching her neck and torso with wine. "Darn!" she exclaimed, annoyed at her own carelessness.

Wanting to clean herself a bit, she stood up, walking towards the nearest bathroom. When she reached the bathroom, she pushed it a bit, not paying any attention to the noises coming from inside…

…only to froze for the second time this day, stumbling upon a showering Harry Potter. She panicked for a moment but relaxed a little when she noticed Harry was washing his hair, his eyes locked shut. Deciding to catch a glimpse before closing the door, she slowly started to gaze at him, from his strong shoulders to his chiseled torso. The muscles on his stomach looked even more impressive as the water flow over them.

Then her eyes fell onto his penis. Cock, she corrected in her mind, feeling the word penis feels inadequate describing the monster sitting between his legs. Even at its half-erect stage, it was much bigger than her husband. "So that is why Ginny is always so cheerful," she murmured, continuing to gaze.

"Hi Fleur, can I help you?" she heard Harry asking, his tone conversational.

Despite its calmness, it was enough to plunge Fleur into a panic. She thought about slamming the door and running away, but decided that doing so would be admitting she would be peeking. Instead, she decided to play it cool, asking to use the bathroom, only to leave after he naturally rejects. Feeling her plan was perfect, she said, "I spilled some wine on me, so I need some water."

"Sure, knock yourself out," Harry answered, causing her to froze. Feeling a bit silly considering she missed such a simple probability, she walked inside reluctant steps, turning a little to check his response. Seeing he wasn't paying any attention to her, she felt a little incensed. After all, she was Fleur Delacour, a rarity even amongst Veela, and he dared to dismiss her like she was nothing, not even attempting to take a lousy peek. In her outrage, fueled with a copious amount of wine she consumed, she decided to tease him a little.

Her posture straightened, making her breasts pop out even more than usual. A small smile adorned her lips as she grabbed the hem of her t-shirt, removing it in one swift movement, leaving her only with a modest bra to cover up her breasts. She started to clean her upper body, making sure to 'accidentally' soak up her bra with enough water to make it cling to her breasts, cold water making her nipples harden. Or at least she tried to herself it was the cold water, disregarding the fact that her suddenly moistening womanhood had nothing to with the cold water.

Discreetly checking him in the mirror, she felt affronted to see him drying without even sparing a glance at her, his cock still half-erect.

For a girl who always prided herself on her ability to turn men's head no matter what, such a thing was quite insulting. She watched as he left the bathroom, only with a towel tied around his waist. She started to mutter angrily about passionless English pigs after he disappeared around the corner, walking towards her bedroom.

She didn't even wait to arrive her bedroom before she started shedding her clothes, leaving her sweatpants and her bra on the corridor, her everyday knickers flying towards the corner. She stood in front of her closet, trying to find some clothes fitting with her aims. After some considerations, she decided on a pair of small, lacy black underwear she bought from a muggle shop, but never wore. Its bra barely covered her nipples, leaving most her bosom bare, creating a mesmerizing ripple whenever she took a step. The knickers were from the same vein, barely more than a thong, they almost covered no part of her firm ass, only covering her womanhood. Even then, it was tight enough to outline it almost perfectly.

Finally decided on her underwear, she started to rummage her stuff to pick a complimentary attire. Thinking a little, she decided on a pair of tiny, white shorts, small enough when she stood up, the full length of her legs were fully on display, and whenever she sat down, the low cut waist pulled back enough to reveal her knickers. To complement, she picked up an extremely tight fitting blouse that shows an incredible amount of cleavage, with a generous open midriff. She completed the set with a light makeup and a ruby lipstick. In total, she was feeling like a bombshell ready to make people explode.

Wearing a small, but stylish slippers, she walked back to living room, where Harry currently sitting on the couch, reading, wearing only a pair of baggy shorts.

"'ello Harry," Fleur said with a slightly sultry voice, her accent flaring a little after all the wine she had downed.

"Hi, Fleur," he answered, raising his head a little, then he returned to his book without lingering.

Pouting a little at his lack of attention, she walked slowly towards the couch, leaned in, and grabbed wine bottle, presenting him with a generous view of her breasts from an excellent vintage point, and asked, "Would you like to have some wine?"

Harry answered negatively, sparing no more than a glance at her perfectly shaped breasts. Fleur sat down and filled another glass of wine in frustration, downing it on one sip. Filling another one to the brim, she sat next to him, browsing a magazine as she thought up another way of going forward.

A small voice in the back of her head was shouting at her, saying she was a married woman and currently spending all this effort to arouse another man, but a few generous sip from her wine glass was enough to drown it.

Her thoughts were disturbed by a small snoring sound. Looking towards the source of it, she saw Harry, dozed off where he was sitting, the book he was reading still on his chest. She frowned a little, annoyed that she lost her chance to tease him. Then, she noticed something that made her gasp in anticipation, there was a small tent rising in his shorts.

She just sat there for a while, sipping wine and examining the outline of Harry's arousal. It was exciting at first, but as the minutes passed, she started to feel resentful of his shorts, preventing the display of the good stuff.

Suddenly feeling daring, she reached towards his shorts, tracing the outline of his shaft with one of her delicate fingers. She could feel her excitement grow as she felt it twitch under her touch. She giggled a bit, then turned towards him in panic, fearing he might wake up. Seeing he wasn't moving, she reached again, this time wrapping her fingers around it, tugging a little. She licked her lips as she felt its growth, its hardness easily felt even across the rough texture of his shorts.

Growing emboldened due to her success, her hazy mind stopped caring about how it would have looked if Harry suddenly woke up, finding his cock in the hands of his current landlady. She slowly pushed her hand through the leg of his shorts, grabbing his meaty stick, meeting no underwear on the way. Her breath quickened as her fingers completely encircled its meaty thickness, her hand failing to make a connection.

Then, she used her other hand to slowly roll the leg of his loose shorts, lobbing the edge over his erection, revealing his large cock in its full endowment. She smacked her lips together in arousal at its glorious view. She grabbed it with both hands, gently tugging it.

She started to wonder how a cock would taste. As a puritan, the sex meant vaginal sex for Bill, shooting down the idea of oral sex almost instantly a couple of times that she offered. But seeing it in some muggle films in her youth, she was still curious about the act itself. She leaned in, her tongue slipping out of its confines. Finding it tasty, she started to lick it across its length, making it grow even larger.

Enjoying the taste, she parted her lips a little, swallowing top of his shaft, slowly bobbing her head up and down, just like these girls in the films did. Enjoying the musky smell, she continued to take more and more into her mouth, feeling her core starting to burn.

Enjoying the feeling, she grabbed her own breasts, teasing herself as she continued to blow him. Pinching and twisting her erect nipples, she abandoned all caution as she devoured his cock, moaning on it.

Then suddenly she heard him groan. Realizing she was about to get caught, she quickly pulled back, fixed the state of his shorts, and dashed out of the room. Despite her panicked state, she felt like she achieved some of the things she came here for. In her hurry, she didn't even notice she toppled a few decorations, nor she noticed Harry looking at her with an undecipherable expression…