I decided to write this story for the Quidditch League Forum, using JustPaulInHere's title "Quand les filles sont belles" and the prompts "pastel pink" and "I should have told you sooner." But this story goes beyond that forum, because Fleur's story is also my story. When I was twelve and thirteen a teacher said and did the same things to me as I wrote about Fleur experiencing. But when I tried to find resources and stories that made me feel like I wasn't alone, I found none. This shocked me because according to research 30 percent of all 14-18 year old girls report being sexually harassed by a school employee (source: AAUW) and 27 percent of all 11-14 year old girls report being sexually harassed in school (source: American Educational Research Center). But, for some reason, sexual harassment/abuse of all kinds in school isn't reported about like it should. So that's really why I wanted to share this story, because is some indiscreet way, it's spreading awareness for a cause that effected me and many others. If you have a story similar to mine and want to talk, please comment/message me! I would love to be there for you, and maybe your story would inspire another fanfic of mine (with permission of course!) (Word count: 2408)
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To most Fleur Delacour was perfect, with great grades and amazing looks. She had everything most girls would dream off. But Fleur herself didn't think she was perfect, she actually believed she was far from it. Because at the end of the day Fleur was broken a million times over, and only hastily put back together. She had faced so many traumatic things over and over again in her life, things many would say was a small price to pay for being a beautiful quarter-veela. Fleur didn't look at it that way, she didn't actually know how to look at it. But as Fleur got ready for her wedding she she recalled the first major trauma in her life.
It all started with the rumors Fleur had heard about the new teacher who was just hired at her beloved school. They said he was young, handsome, and cool with a habit for standing out. That seemed pretty okay with her, granted she hadn't had much experience with male teachers having only ever had one other. Apparently at an all female school, teachers of the other gender don't go over well.
His name was Mr Philip, he taught History of Magic, and she had him for her third class of the day. He seemed pretty nice when Fleur met him on the first day of school, having said hello to her the second she walked in. Mr Phillip had neat, light brown hair and a slight beard. His face made him seem not a day over 30, but Fleur knew he had to be older than that. Overall he was pretty fit, with very nice dress robes to accentuate that fact. She could immediately see how some girls would be head-over-heals for the man. That of course didn't not include Fleur, solely due to the fact that he was far to put together for her liking. The young girl much preferred a roguish, bad boy to a clean cut one.
But as the first couple of weeks of school went by Fleur started noticing something about the man that she denied at first. Something most people wouldn't believe. It seemed that he payed extra attention to her.
Now that wouldn't normally be a bad thing, not at all. Fleur loved it when teachers applauded her for her ability in school, so much so that many would consider her a teacher's pet. But this was different. The attention she received wasn't normal, and it wasn't necessarily positive either. He seemed to be infatuated with her.
The first sign of this came a couple weeks into school, when the students received their seat assignments for the class. She was placed right next to his desk. Once again, this wasn't abnormal for the quarter-veela. After all, someone had to sit there. But the second sign came soon after, when she started having a strange gut feeling that she was being watched.
At first she brushed it off, claiming that since she was at the front of class classmates were naturally going to look at her. But deep down a part of her knew that wasn't true. She could see out of the corner of her eye that it was Mr Phillip, he was watching her for long periods of time in class. And it sure as hell made her uncomfortable.
It seemed that she wasn't the only one who noticed this either, her whole class did. Then it wasn't long before she started hearing the most absurd rumors going around the halls. Kids were saying things like "Fleur is sleeping with Mr. Phillip," "Mr Phillip is in love with Fleur," or the worst one of them all "Fleur is going to be raped by Mr Phillip." Even her friends were spreading and agreeing with the lies! These whispered comments put Fleur in a position she had never been in before, a place of true fear. She was worried that she would loose credibility amongst her peers. She was worried other teachers would hear them and get her in trouble for something she never did. But most of all she was in constant fear of being raped or attacked by the man who taught History of Magic.
Her fears were only supported by the ever growing amount of incidents between her and Mr Phillip. The first major incident was in an empty corridor a day before winter break. She was wearing a new pastel pink dress and shoes. Her Mom had sent them to her a couple of weeks before yet she hadn't had a time to wear them until that day.
It was snowing outside, and fretfully cold inside as well. The hallways were practically bare except for the blonde haired girl trying to make her self warm on the way to her dormitory. Her countless pursuit was stopped by the sound of footsteps coming from behind her. At first she didn't think anything of it, why would she? But she surely did when she felt something from behind her, grabbing her hand and placing their's on her lower back, just on top of her but.
She felt herself take a sharp intake of breath, freezing in fear. "Who…?" Fleur began, not even able to finish her sentence before becoming too scared.
"I love your dress." A voice said from behind her, a familiar voice. It took her a minute before realizing that it was her History of Magic teacher. She gulped in fear, not sure what to should do. "Pastel pink is quite your color." He said, hand still on her lower back as he walked around to face her. His face seemed so close.
"Thank you." Fleur breathed out, fixing her gaze on her new shoes until she could hear him walk away. She didn't like the dress anymore.
That incident was eye opening to the young girl, making her realize her situation was no longer normal and very real. It wasn't a silly rumor anymore, the whispers now held truth. But Fleur still didn't like to acknowledge the position she found herself in, choosing to ignore it. She knew that the second she recognized her pain, it would be too much, and so she just continued as if nothing happened. Because, in her mind, nothing did.
Fleur wished that the one day in the hallway was an isolated incident, one of fleeting morals and beliefs. But it wasn't, not at all. The next big incident happened months after, on a breezy March day. Fleur was sitting out with her friends on the school grounds, all of them enjoying the beautiful day blessed upon them. At first Fleur felt untouchable, believing that nothing could spoil the so called perfect day she had been having. Those beliefs were ruined by the sight of Mr Phillip walking down the grounds, at first not heading towards her. Fleur's heart swelled with nerves as she quickly tried to make herself invisible. She knew in her mind that absolutely, under no circumstances, could he notice her. She had a gut feeling that if he did, only bad things would follow.
She tried to hide, swerving behind her friend, but it didn't work. Sure enough he saw her and immediately changed his direction so he was coming towards the blonde girl. Fleur's breath caught in her throat as she tensed up, awaiting his arrival. "Fleur!" He exclaimed with a weird smile on his face, causing the girl to shiver. "How are you today?"
Fleur could only manage to squeak out a mere, "Good." Before she couldn't speak anymore. Her friends stared at her with wide eyes as Mr Phillip went to stand next to her, placing his hand on her shoulder. Their shocked expressions only grew as he picked a small flower from the grass beside her feet. It was a small red poppy, with a beautiful set of leaves and stem. She couldn't help feel pity for the small blossom, who had no choice but to be used but for such disgusting circumstances. But sure enough, the flower was tucked behind the 13 year old's ear by a man old enough to be her father.
"A beautiful flower for a beautiful girl." He breathed out into her ear before strolling away. It was that moment when Fleur was completely sure he was in love with her, and she now had no more excuses to deny it. It was real.
Fleur must've stood there, in the same spot, for at least 20 minutes afterward. Her friends still staring at her in alarm. All of a sudden a rush of emotions came to the girl, and she quickly took the flower out her hair and threw it to the ground. Only stomping on it once for good measure. Fleur could feel the tears come to her eyes as she ran away and back into the school, but she refused to cry. She was not going to give that man her tears.
Little did she know, only two weeks and a small incident later, she would give him a lot of them. It all started one Monday after Mr Phillip's class, when she should've gotten her stuff together sooner before everyone else had left. But the poor girl was so flustered at just being in the same room as the man that she spilt her bag on the floor, delaying her exit about 10 minutes. A couple minutes into her cleanup Fleur realized that she was alone in the room except for Mr Phillip, and the girl could hear his footsteps come up behind her. She gulped at the sight of him kneeling to help her collect her stuff, and she tried not to acknowledge his presence. That plan worked pretty well until she was about to walk out of the empty classroom, and she felt something touch her hand. She immediately turned her head to look at the limb, and was shocked at what she saw. He had grabbed it, and was holding it like a boyfriend would. Her mouth dried as her face paled, it was all to real.
After a couple minutes her face drifted up to meet his, and she was stunned to see a blush upon his cheeks. Her chest swelled with nervousness as he began to speak. "So, Fleur. I've been thinking." He began as the young girl began trying to pull her hand away. "I…I think I love you." He finally spit out, and Fleur's mouth fell open. She just kept hoping that she heard him wrong, but the look on his face told a different story. So as many thoughts ran through the girl's head, and she quickly pulled her hand away and ran out of the classroom.
She ran and ran, until she didn't know where she was, then she ran some more. But it seemed that where ever she could go didn't seem far enough. So she went to the one place she knew he probably wouldn't go, the girls bathroom. Fleur didn't even bother with going in a stall, instead she just sat on the ground and started crying. Not caring if anyone else heard. The whole thing just became too much for the 13 year old. After all, she was convinced her teacher was in love with her and she was being bullied because of it. Fleur just wished she felt like she could tell someone, but even if she wanted to she wouldn't know who to talk to.
Of course it was that moment that someone else came in, the woman that would later become the Headmistress of the fine institution but was just currently a teacher, Madame Maxine. The big woman immediately cued in to the crying girl in the corner of the room, and decided to put off her bathroom break to enquire what was wrong. That probably had to one of the best decisions of both of their lives, because it was at that moment Fleur confessed the whole story to the woman. The young girl only remembers saying "I should have told you sooner." Before the woman pulled her into a hug. The next day Madame Maxine told the Headmistress at the time and Mr Phillip was out of the school the day after.
Life continued as normal for the blonde girl after that, but she never spoke about the incident for years after. Deciding that telling the story would only increase the pain she already felt. The only other time in her life that the story was passed on was a week before her wedding to Bill Weasley. She sat the red-head down and told him everything, thinking that as her future husband he should know. That moment was probably one of the best moments in the blonde girl's life. She remembers breaking down halfway through, reliving all of the pain from her twelve and thirteen year old self. Then she recalled Bill just pulling her into his chest and rocking her back and forth, letting her slowly finish the story. Because he loved her, not like Mr Phillip, but like a true love.
