Note: I don't own Harry Potter.
Her soft, silver hair spread over her pillow and most of mine. Her lips were slightly parted, allowing the slightest amount of drool to leave her mouth. Her eyelids fluttered as the rays of the sun passed over them. But most importantly, she had positioned herself in such a way that she stole all the blankets. Huh, who knew. Fleur Delacour only has imperfections when she's asleep.
Beauxbatons and Durmstrang had arrived, thank god. I don't think I could've listened to Ronald moan about his stomach any longer. We were sitting at the table of the lions when I began feeling an annoying tug at my mind, demanding my attention. I turned to ask Ronald if he felt it too and was presented with an entertaining sight. Ronald Weasley, slack-jawed and drooling with no self control as if he were possessed. He was staring at the large doors of the Great Hall. I followed his gaze. Immediately, I knew what was happening. This, ladies and gentleman, was not good.
The most beautiful woman strode with confidence into the hall, drawing the gazes of all the men. Even Professor Dumbledore was giving her an appreciative eye. I was, however, proud of Ronald. His reaction was nowhere near as extreme as some. What concerned me, however, was the woman herself. Her slightly – avian – features instantly proved that she was indeed a Veela. From my brief encounter with the species in my Magical Creatures book, I knew that they had an allure and that they could suppress it with relative ease. Therefore, this Veela was not suppressing her allure and, judging by the desperate look in her eye as she surveyed the hall, was looking for a mate – someone who was resistant to the damned allure. And guess who isn't drooling like a prat?
As soon as she locked gazes with me, I knew I was screwed.
A/N: Thoughts? I don't know if I should continue this or not :)