Chapter Two

"Nathaniel wake up!" Gregory's irritated voice bounced like a rubber ball inside Nathaniel's head.

"Five more minutes Da, I have the most wondrous dream," murmured Nathaniel turning his back to his father to avoid the noisy words coming from his mouth.

"Really?" asked his father in a scathing tone trying to pull the blanket away from the snoring peron. "And may I ask what in the world you are dreaming at that made you love your bed more than usual?"

"Veela,"

"What?"

"Veela, she's soooooooo beautiful Da. I think I'm going to stay with her," he snored again.

Gregory rolled his eyes in exasperation and with one gigantic pull threw his son off balance making him land to the floor painfully with a grunt.

"Damn Da!" growled Nathaniel loudly as he was snapped fully awake by the aching of his back. "Do you really have to do that?" he asked groaning, massaging the lump in his backside. He was sure that it would bruise and would take another day or two for the pain to completely fade off. Unless he used magic of course.

"You deserve it," snorted Gregory. "Apparently that was the only way to pull you away from your...Veela," he smirked seeing his son's reddening expression.

"Breakfast at the table son. And don't worry," he smirked at the said boy. "We are mingling with nationals tomorrow. Perhaps we can find the Veela of your dreams,"

"Da!"

Gregory just chuckled as he went out leaving his son to change. "Well today's certainly going to be interesting," he thought to himself. It's a good thing his son like Veelas. He's going to get used to it if they're going to be making this planned marriage work after all.

...

...

Twenty minutes later found the dynamic duo striding at the top of a hill. One was wearing official wizard robes carrying a large bag on his back followed by a tall figure wearing a green simple outfit with a large bow strapped on his back with a dozen arrows, and a hunting knife strapped on his side.

"Is it much further?" asked Nathaniel for the hundredth time panting from the effort of the three kilometer walk uphill. He was sweating profusely and he was already considering if the effort on attending this Quidditch World Cup was worth it.

"Yes, just at the top of this hill," replied his Father glumly. He is faring no better than his son. The thought of wearing his full regalia as a member of the Legislation is a very bad idea after all. He was sweating, and he was also pretty sure that his freshly laundered robes are now as smell as he is. Glancing at his son, he actually felt a little envious of his outfit. At least he can feel the air.

"I still don't get why we have to get a Portkey when you could just take me to side-along Apparition?" grumbled Nathaniel.

"You do know that the English can be a bit of a prick when it comes to security right?" asked Gregory.

"Not really," muttered his son. Gregory just rolled his eyes in exasperation and instead focused his energy on making larger strides. The sooner that they can get to the top of the hill, the better.

The two didn't have breath for spare talking as they began to climb the hated hill, stumbling a bit at mouse holes and avoiding the efficiently hidden land mines left by wild animals at night. Each breath that they took was sharp and labored, even Nathaniel who had been subject to hard physical workout felt like his legs are being swn in half. Therefore it was a great relief when they reached even ground. Nathaniel just lay spread eagled on the ground with exhaustion.

"Damn," swore Gregory as he drew his muscles at the back stiffly, and groaned when they start creaking."At least we are not late," he glanced at his son laying panting on the ground. "Nathaniel, pull yourself together and help me find that Portkey. We have less than three minutes before it activates itself,"

Nathaniel groaned as he forced himself up. He smirked inwardly as his companion began crawling in the grass looking for the Portkey. His father can be a bit of an idiot sometimes if he was tired or annoyed. Pulling his wand at it's holster, he pointed it at the air.

"Accio Portkey,"

He smiled as a rubber shoes came flying into him and landed with a small thud in the ground. Looking triumphantly at his Father who is approaching him, he can't help but gloat a little.

"What's the matter old man? Losing your touch already?" he smiled seeing his father raised his hands in surrender before pressing a finger at the Portkey who is starting to glow blue. Nathaniel put his hand to after jabbing his father in the side which both of them chuckled.

"There'" muttered Gregory watching hi watch. "Three...Two...One,"

It happened immediately and Nathaniel felt the ever fast jerk forward as his foot left the ground. He could see his Father smirking as they are sped forward in a howl of wind and swirling color. Then just as it started, he felt the ground touch his feet sending him outbalanced and felling to the ground with a thud.

Nathaniel looked up. His father was standing there blinking and looking very windswept but otherwise okay and standing. Just as he was about to stand up, he heard a voice say above him.

"Six-Thirty past five. Welcome to Britain Legislator Augustine,"

"Right, we're here," thought Nathaniel as a hand helped him up.

...

...

...

"This can't be true, this can't be true," those are the words repeating itself on Fleur Delacour's head as her father explained to her as gently as possible about her marriage contract. She was panicking inside, she was never made aware about this and the mere fact that it was made by her great-great Grandparents made her sick.

"Flower?" his Father asked worriedly and Fleur was barely aware as she felt tears fall from her eyes. Being part-veela, she was aware with the fact that finding a partner for herself would be extremely hard, not to mention impossible. Only one out of a hundred wizards are immune to a veela's allure. Her mother was lucky that she found his father and have a family. She wished she can find someone like that.

When she was a little girl, she had entertained visions where she could find someone who could make her feel like a princess. During her teenage years, she began to wonder if any of the boys are actually immune to her allure. Now just as she resolved within herself to find her right partner, this had been thrust in her face.

"Papa, is there any way out of these?" asked Fleur, trying to make her voice as steady as possible despite the fear worming in her gut.

"I'm sorry my flower," his father shook his head sadly. "This was a magical contract and even I cannot change it, even if I wanted to,"

She winced inwardly. A veela's magic is tied to her lifeline. Breaking a magical contract would be like signing her own death warrant. Either it would leave her lifeless or reduce her to nothing more than a drooling mess.

"But Papa, what would happen if he is not immune to my allure? I don't want the person I am about to marry drooling like an idiot every time he sees me,"

Fleur's heart sank as she saw her father wince probably trying hard not to imagine the scenario that would happen if that would be the case. She knew that it would be the worst thing that could happen for a veela. It happened many times before, Veelas just married to someone due to contracts, the result was devastating. Many of their husbands made their contracted wives as pleasure slaves and a fair number had been raped to the point of insanity.

That's what caused Fleur to finally snap. Shaking in fear she began to hyperventilate barely hearing the words that she saw her father was trying to soothe her with.

"This can't be true," the words repeated itself again and again in her head as the young woman tried to control herself. She once attended one of her father's investigations about a murder scene. The victim was a Veela no older than herself who died through rape and the image was still engraved on Fleur's head and the horror behind it. And the reason behind that was marriage contract made by the girl's family. It is said that his husband lost all sense of control when they try to be intimate with one another.

Taking gasps of air, the French witch tried to stop the torrent of images from her memories at the mangled body. She knew was severely afraid on facing the same fate soon and that frightened her more than anything. Losing the self-control she had on herself, she opened her mouth and screamed.

Not thinking clearly, she felt her body rise up and begin to ran ignoring her father's frantic pleas to come back as she dashed outside trying to clear the pent up tension in her chest. She knew she was being childish and would regret her actions later but right now she doesn't give a damn.

More than one person did she bump and many are reduced to slobbering idiots as her uncontrolled allure went into full force. She didn't stop to apologize. Avoiding as many people as able in the camp, she went to the edge near the trees, away from the tents and sat down there, trying her best to calm her thoughts contemplating her problem.

"This is so unfair," she thought to herself. Deep inside, she knew that if she married the wrong person, she is facing a lifetime of hell. Assuming first of course that she can survive their first night. Bonding with someone that is not immune to her allure would be the worst case scenario for a veela.

Pulling her knees over her, she put her head between them as fat globules of tears start emerging from her eyes. For the hundredth time she cursed her heritage and her being. Fate always was cruel to her and her kind. It's very hard for a veela to find their right mate. That's one of the reasons why the veela population was growing smaller every year.

Of course he was not angry at all at her father. It is not his fault. She knew deep inside that her father loved her dearly. Her father understood her more than anyone else. If there is a way out of this, she knew her father would have taken it.

She was too preoccupied on feeling sorry for herself and crying that she barely noticed the three men that suddenly hovered over her.

"Hey cupcake, what are you doing all here by yourself?" a voice asked slyly making Fleur stiffen in fear.

She had faced many attempts on her for as long as she can remember. It is common for a veela, especially the teenage ones whose allure they cannot control. Fleur herself have her own share of troubles in this area. That's why she preferred to be more at ease with crowds of people, although it increases the number of drooling idiots that oggled at her, at least she's safe from assaults.

In less than a second, she pulled the handle of her wand from her robes. It was an efficient move, one that she has perfected ever since her father taught it to her. Against any regular enemy it would work. But her assailants are no regular ones and are expecting the move.

"Stupef-,"

Fleur barely managed to finish the spell when there was a flash of light that passed over her head making her squeak in alarm as she jumped out of the way.

"Too slow little girl," taunted one of the men as he hurled another hex at the stumbling figure with his companions following suit.

Fleur hissed in pain as spell after spell hit her. She was no good at dueling and can do no more than try to avoid as best as she can the attacks that the men do. She was puzzled however when the spells do no lasting damage on her. Either these men are stupid or their magic is really not that strong.

"Look at that body Burton," drawled one of the men at her making Fleur's attention to broke and focus on whatever his lust filled eyes are looking at.

Her eyes widened in alarm as she realized what they are doing. Her silver blue dress are literally ripped in large places leaving large amounts of skin to be seen on the naked eye. Now she understood why the spells did not affect her. They are not meant to damage her but rather undress her.

"Perverts!" screamed Fleur in anger as she sent a cutting curse at the nearest assailant who merely waved his wand lazily to deflect her attack.

"Fiery, I like it," he sneered before retaliating with one of his own.

Fleur's eyes widened in alarm at the counterattack, backpedalling in alarm, she closed her eyes when the spell hit her straight in the chest. There was a ripping sound and the Veela panicked seeing her clothes torn in that area revealing her bra underneath. In an impulse movement she covered her chest with her arms, her wand dangling at her side. That's what the men are waiting for.

"Expelliarmus,"

Fleur's grip on her wand went slack automatically as the piece of wood went flying at the bushes at her back. Fear gripped her inside automatically as another spell hit her in the navel tearing her clothes off, showing the pale skin beneath for the entire world to see and touch.

A set of ropes slowly tangled her legs like writhing snakes made the poor Veela close her eyes as tears overcame them. Stumbling like a drunk ballerina, she lost her balance and fell to the ground, hard. Fear gripped her heart like a vice as she realized how hopeless her predicament is. Sure she had faced many cases of rape like this before, but never this intensity.

She screamed aloud in the night as roughed hands touched her hips, squeezing them softly before being flipped in the Earth, her face slamming in the ground. Stars came to her vision and she barely recovered her senses before there was another ripping sound and Fleur cried aloud as she felt the clothes on her back leave her. The men are practically undressing her.

"Please, stop," she murmured in French and one of the men immediately sneered before leaning down on her ear, his hot breath tickling her neck.

"If you want to be pleasured girl, all you had to do was ask," he whispered making Fleur's stomach bile rise at the mention of their intentions. She can't believe this is happening to her.

"Non'" she replied in a whimper making the men laugh when the sound of her voice betrayed her fear.

"Alright who's going to go first boys?" he loudly asked making the poor girl whimper even more as they took lots on who's going to get her first.

"Ha! I win," laughed a bald one at the indignant faces of his companions. "Don't worry too much boys. I'll take the rear while I leave the front and the mouth to you two,"

Fleur was crying openly now as she was picked by her hair, the pain of it making her scalp on fire as she was thrown roughly to a nearby tree. She barely managed to get her feet under her when a large heavy figure pressed her back pinning her body to the wood with her back at them.

"Don't worry darling. We won't break you that fast. In fact we prefer it slow," he whispered sultrily in her ear before swallowing her ear lobe.

Fleur felt the tears on her face falling freely as the man explored every contour of her exposed back. The air was cold on her skin and she was vaguely aware that her entire upper torso was relatively undressed. A sudden sharp pain near her neck made her scream shrilly in the morning light as she felt teeth bite a loose flesh on her neck.

"You're going to be my whore little veela. That's what your kind is for anyway," commented the man defiling her. Fleur barely registered the words as a fresh set of pain marred her skin as the man marked her again with his teeth.

"Help me, somebody. Help me please," her thoughts screamed again and again as the man's hands roamed over her exposed back. She knew that even if she creamed her hardest, no one would be able to hear her. She is in the middle of the woods in nowhere and have little to no chance on making it out alive.

She closed her tear-filled eyes one last time seeing her younger sister and family in her mind. Of all the people in the world, they are the ones she loved the most. The ones who understood what she really is. With her Veela nature, both men and women is a stranger to her. Men cannot resist her allure and ended up like a pack of lovesick puppies and women are just too cautious of her, out of fear of her stealing their boyfriends.

Just as she was contemplating these things, a hand suddenly reached down over her rear squeezing it painfully and Fleur cried aloud as she realized that her skirt is being pulled down. She let one more tear fell down her face and began to think when a large weight slammed into her that maybe, the marriage contract would have been better after all.

...

...

...

Nathaniel Augustine felt his blood boil in anger the moment he stepped out of the trees. His eyes slanted like snakes as it interpreted the scene in front of him. He had only been wandering around, tired at all the introductions and meetings that his father and the other Legislators forced him to attend. He is one of the most popular wizards in the world after all.

The moment he stepped out of the trees, he could practically feel someone crying out for help. At first he merely disregarded it, but after a few more steps he heard sobbing and laughing. The sound of the cries was so pleading that it nearly broke his heart the moment he heard it. Following the sounds as silently as he could brought him here.

Three men are obviously in the act of rape. Two are merely laughing in the sidelines as the third one are nearly done on tearing the lithe girl's skirt off her. She is already undressed, her arms covering her chest to protect her modesty, the long blonde hair she had in tatters.

Creeping even closer, using the bushes as cover he approached as silently as he could to avoid being seen. Apparently that problem was solved by the rapists for him. The three are guffawing so hard that they nearly put a snoring dragon to shame. He barely went another few steps when the girl screamed again making his heart soar with pity. Taking a glance forward, he nearly lost his composure when he saw the man biting the girl's back pulling a large amount of white skin with his teeth.

Nathaniel steeled his nerves as he went slowly into position arranging his self to a better place. Years of practice in his job have given him the needed experience for situations like this. Despite his expertise, every time he did this, he still felt nervous. He grinned inwardly, no matter how trivial the job is he always felt nerves.

His grin however vanished when the poor victim screamed again and this time Nathaniel's eyes hardened into ice as he took in the scene. The rapist apparently have come to finish his teasing and was trying to force the girl's hands to reveal her chest. Wasting no more time, Nathaniel removed the large bow in his back. He could finish them of course with his wand, but he felt that it would be too merciful for bastards like this. No these kind of people deserve a painful death.

Standing up, he flexed his back muscles pulling the string of the bow with it. He smiled, his aim he knew was sure. Guaranteed by the hundreds of arrows he shot again and again in training, he had no qualms that this would be peanut and butter in this range. Eighty kilograms of wood bend under muscles of cord. The gray shafted arrow ready, he took aim at the still oblivious criminals.

"How easy it is to take a life," he thought inwardly before releasing the string.

...

...

...

Fleur was in a daze of pain as she stood there pressed to the trunk of a tree. She felt dirty and disgusted as the man's kisses roamed her entire back. Already it was sticky from his minstrations. She was also sure she had many bite marks now riddled across her body. She had seen them once on her mother's neck when her father and mother celebrated their anniversary privately at their room. At the morning when she asked, the two merely blushed before telling her to grow up first.

"SMACK!" that was the sound that cut through Fleur's pain filled mind. At first she barely reacted to it.

"I must be dreaming," she thought to herself as she felt the man raping her to stumble over her.

"Gerrof me!" Fleur snarled. She may be dead already in her predicament, but she would fight to the end though. Drool flowed through her back as it came from the wizard's mouth and Fleur cringed as her body is being marred.

"SMACK!" another sound destroyed the quietness of the forest and Fleur just now heard the screaming of one of the wizards that attacked her. There was one more "SMACK!" sound and everything became deathly quiet.

Fleur leaned her head on the tree she was facing. She was tired, so tired that she wondered if she was dead.

"Those men mus have grown tired of me and killed me," she thought inwardly. She chuckled out loud. If this was death, then it is certainly oddly peaceful.

She was broken out of her reverie though as she felt the body at her back began to move again.

"No! No! No! I'm supposed to be dead. Please no more!" she screamed shrilly closing her eyes to avoid seeing the malicious faces of the men that would leer down on her. Oh how much she wanted to die rather than be submitted to this kind of treatment again. She also knew that the men have not yet come to the best part. She's mature enough to know what that is.

However no kisses or bites came. She was quite confused when she felt something though drape her exposed back covering her skin from the ice biting wind. The ropes also tying her feet are loosened and she felt her legs gave in as she slumped on the forest floor.

"The hell is happening?" screamed her pain-adled mind. This is not something that her assaulters would do. She was still thinking that though when a pair of gentle hands touch her arms.

"Are you al-?" the question was never finished.

"SLAP!"

Fleur's right hand burned as it moved in instinct slapping the face of whoever would attack her. She was however surprised and horrified to see that it was not her attacker that she slapped but rather a long-haired person that ultimately look like those elves at the LOTR movies she loved when she was a kid.

'Damn! That hurt," moaned the person as he carresed his cheek. Apparently the force of the impact have thrown him down with her at the top of him.

The Veela blushed in alarm seeing their positions. Not to mention that she is naked under the cape that is covering her body. Her body have moved by instinct, the moment it slapped the poor savior off, it had jumped over him ready to claw his eyes off.

Pushing herself up, Fleur winced and cried aloud as she fell again to the floor. (Thankfully not on him) Quite confused, she looked down at her legs and her eyes watered. Red welt marks covered them, apparently the ropes that have bound them before are tighter than she had imagined. Now that she had noticed, she could feel the stinging pain that came from them. She knew inwardly that she could not walk back to her tent, not in this condition.

"Are you alright?" the person she slapped asked crouching in front of her not invading her personal space. Fleur looked at his face guiltily seeing the slap mark of her hand there.

"Sorry," she murmured in French.

"What?" he looked at her funny and she inwardly cursed. Apparently he cannot understand French.

"Oui, I am sorry," she repeated in English. The person actually smiled and Fleur felt herself blush. He really looked like an elf, long hair?-Check. Angled face?-Check. Handsome?-Check. (She never called anyone handsome before) Pointed Ears?- she looked just to be sure. Yep they're there' -Check.

"Are you alright?" he asked again and this time Fleur noticed the dead men surrounding them. All had arrows embedded on them deeply that the one who actually raped her have the pointy end busting from his skull. She felt no remorse for them, but even she cringed from the horrific deaths.

"Zid you killed zem?" she asked and she internally slapped herself. Of course he did. The bow and arrows at his back are testament to the murders. Not to mention she is talking to an elf. Elves love bows. (LOTR fan remember?)

"Yes," he replied coldly. "Quicker death than they deserve for even violating a lady like you. You feel sorry them?" he asked.

"Oui, I do," Fleur replied honestly and she was surprised when he barked out a laugh. "Good, good. You remind me how cold-hearted I am this days my lady,"

"You are not cold-hearzed. You zaved me," The man just chuckled at her reply.

"Maybe. Maybe I did. But how can you tell that I'm not here to finish their job?" he asked.

Fleur's heart sank as she heard the words. "Is he also here to rape me?" she thought inwarldy but she shook her head to keep the negative thoughts from surfacing.

"Non," she answered, "If you are ere to finiz ze job, you would not ave bozzered to dress me," The elf actually laughed aloud at her answer.

"Good, good. I am outwitted for once. Good answer miss?"

"Fleur, Fleur Delacour," she replied with a smile and a deep sigh of relief inwardly.

"It's nice to meet you Fleur. Nathaniel at your service," he replied.

"Nathaniel what?" Fleur asked curiously.

"Just Nathaniel for now my lady," the person waved off. "I'll prefer if I keep my last name a secret for now,"

"Az you wish," replied Fleur although she is quite peaked in curiosity. But Fleur understands more han anyone the essence of curiosity. Even she kept her own secrets, it would be impolite if she forced him now to reveal it. Not to mention that it is not her business.

"So what now?" asked Fleur.

"My lady?"

"Hmm...?" she looked at him and was surprised to see a tinge of crimson at his face.

"May I have the permission on carrying you?" he asked'

Fleur was caught off guard by the request. Her eyes narrowed at him, is this some underhand way for him to touch her.

"If he had bad intentions on you, he would not have bothered untying you," the logical part of her brain pointed out.

"Then what is his intentions?" the doubtful part asked.

"I do not mean any disrespect my lady but you cannot walk with those legs," pointed out Nathaniel.

"I'll manage," sniffed Fleur and she cringed when she saw her savior raise an eyebrow at her disbelievingly.

"Really I can," the eyebrows raised higher.

"Fine I can't" she sighed in surrender. Looking at the said person she growled. "Try something funny and I'll hex you,"

"Of course Fleur," he replied sheepishly.

"Get my wand," she ordered.

"I don't know exactly where it is Fleur," answered Nathaniel who is scratching his head. Fleur just rolled her eyes and pulled his wand from the holster in his waist without permission.

"Hey that's my-,"

"Accio Delacour wand," Fleur called out and she smiled seeing her wand flying ou of the bushes to her hand.

"Well that is...obvious," said Nathaniel as Fleur returned his wand to him.

"Obviously," the Veela snorted. As she lay down, she felt quite confused when he merely coruched there.

"Well? Are you going to carry me or not?" she asked heatedly.

"Oh, right. Right," he replied before scooping her up in his arms bridal style. When he grunted with the effort, Fleur wrapped her arms on his neck to lessen the weight.

"You're heavy," he huffed as he started walking. Fleur merely shrugged.

"You insisted,"

They both chuckled as they passed tree after tree. Feeling relief finally after her ordeal Fleur burried her head to the fabric of his robe at the chest. Normally she wouldn't do this, she never touched a man before, except her father, but on Nathaniel's arms, she felt blissfully safe and contented. Finally free of her pain, Fleur closed her eyes drifting to sleep. She smiled inside when a thought struck her.

The allure she controlled always was rocketing sky-high and the man holding her was unaffected by it. As an added bonus, he's very good looking too. With those last thought, Fleur Delacour finally entered the world of dreams. She doesn't know that her knight in shining armor are definitely trying to keep his composure, not sure to believe that he is holding the most beautiful woman in his entire life.

GUYS RATE AND REVIEW PLEASE. THIS WOULD BE A LONG TALE. DON'T WORRY THEY'RE GOING TO MEET HARRY AND THE OTHERS FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER.