A/N: Disclaimer as usual, I own nothing JK owns! Thank you to my beta!
It was early morning, the wallpaper in the bedroom painted gold by the sunlight, illuminating the rare artwork hung on the walls. The room was gorgeous; no expenses spared, elegant antique furniture, a small connected tea room that had large glass doors leading to an expansive balcony overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Comfortable leather armchairs, antique coffee table and a Persian rug in the tea room and a king sized bed in the bedroom centered on a silk carpet. Its headboard was against the wall, just under large windows. The table in the bedroom was large and mahogany. The linen was one hundred percent Egyptian cotton and the large pillows were stuffed with goose down feathers. Upon entering the bathroom one would take notice of the large and elaborate Jacuzzi, the body shower jet stall just a little ways away from the Jacuzzi. These were only two rooms in the Delacour mansion, which had over fifty rooms in total and remained hidden and isolated from the Muggle population. The house was situated just outside of the city of Montpellier. This was a home that money built.
Fleur Delacour, beautiful part-Veela, was lazily reading over one of the notes sent out to young witches and wizards all over the world. She lay nude in her large bed, ignoring her bedside companions, one of whom was snoring, as she read the Beauxbatons letter inviting her to return to school after her well deserved break. She sighed and disentangled herself from the two gorgeous men wrapped around her. Normally she wouldn't allow them to spend the night, but the blond one was quite vigorous and wore all three of them out. She reached over to her plush chair and grabbed her dark red satin robe. Shooting them one final glance, she walked to the tea room and made her way to the balcony.
The sun warmed her face, the air was fresh and smelled of the sea, a gentle breeze caressed her hair, yet she noticed none of this. To the untrained eye (and all eyes had a habit of being glazed in the presence of a Veela) Fleur was a goddess, almost perfect in her appearance. She had curves in the right places, taut porcelain skin, and a demeanor that usually commanded obedience and received it. But there were barely perceptible dark circles around her eyes now, her skin stretched slightly around her high cheek bones, and her hair had lost some of its lustre.
Fleur leaned up against the wooden railing, listening to the water beat against the sand as she pulled out a cigarette and lit it with her wand. Her mother would have lost her mind if she knew her eldest daughter had taken up such a disgusting habit. Of course, she wasn't quite on speaking terms with her mother since her seventh year and the Tournament. After that point she went from being the favourite to being a problem child. After Diggory's death her marks in class became abysmal. The Beauxbaton Academy had eight years of schooling as opposed to Hogwarts' seven. Her final year was so bad she dropped out. So naturally, her mother found her a job at Gringotts regardless of her lack of expertise.
To her mother's shock and dismay, something had changed within her daughter. The once proud, naïve, and sometimes snobbish girl turned into an isolated, risk-taking, and cynical mess. The part-Veela spent one year just partying and sleeping with people she deemed worthy of her attention. Her life became one of self indulgence and destruction. Yet all who thought they knew her had no idea why she suddenly didn't care about anything. At first her parents attempted to be understanding (although they understood nothing), by giving a woman who already had everything: even more. The Delacour mansion by the sea was gifted to her, so she could have private time to herself to recover from whatever they thought was wrong with her. Fleur smiled wryly at her family's attempts to comfort her.
For a while it seemed as if things improved. Her mother bribed Fleur's way into Gringotts. Fleur was never stupid; in fact, it only took her a handful of months before she became an expert in her field. She was respected and got the attention of a good man, Bill Weasley, who fell in love with her. To her friends and family's joy, the relationship seemed healthy and happy. But Fleur never loved Bill, just took him on because it appeased others to see them together. She cheated on him frequently. Fleur couldn't help a small sly smile, recalling the one time when Bill was sleeping upstairs and Pauline came over by Floo. While he slumbered upstairs, Fleur was fighting to keep from making a sound. Pauline was ever so good with her tongue… But for Fleur the relationship worked; the man never suspected a thing, she was still able to see other people, and she was certain beyond any doubts that if he had caught her, even with another man, she could easily keep him with her. People did not deny Fleur Delacour anything. Except for her mother.
With her mother back in her thoughts, she pulled out the letter from Beauxbatons. During the war, she participated in the fight against the Dark Lord. The wizarding world was victorious but shortly afterwards Fleur's life went downhill. She lost her job in Gringotts, having failed to come to work repeatedly. She stopped talking to Bill altogether, although he continued to send her flowers from time to time. Her mother gave her an ultimatum: return to school and make something of yourself, or you are on your own. The substantial bribe from her mother, aided by Fleur's old reputation at the school got her spot back in Beauxbatons. Fleur was twenty one years old and being forced to return to school.
She took one last drag of her cigarette and snuffed it out on the note. If she was returning to school she was going to pick one on her own. There was no doubt in her mind that the school to go to was Hogwarts. The school was now had the most famous and respected in reputation in the wizarding world; their students fought against Death Eaters and won. She would write to the Headmaster (or was it Headmistress now?) and use her sad little story to earn a spot at Hogwarts. Everyone believed she was traumatized by Diggory's death, and more so affected by the battle with the Dark Lord. They were all so full of themselves. Not a single person she spent time with truly knew her, not even her little sister.
Her fingers fumbled for another cigarette only to come up empty. Frowning, she went back into her tea room and spotted another packet. She lit herself another one and casually stretched herself out on one of the leather chairs. Every move she made was sensual and relaxed. Without her Veela heritage, she would still ensnare all who dared venture to her presence. She stared at the doorway to her bedroom with a blank expression. Everyone wanted her; she wanted to be anyone else. Happiness was elusive. Her only moments of joy were orgasms and they were far too short to sustain her. She had briefly dappled in drugs, but she didn't like the lack of control. People thought she was spiraling out of control, but in her mind everything was going according to plan; she would go nowhere and do nothing except what pleased her.
The problem was her mother. She took some control away from Fleur, demanding that the girl finish school or everything would be taken away. It didn't bother Fleur that she was so dependent on her family name. It was expected. Her mother took from her mother, who took from her mother and so on. The Delacour women were talented and strong, but they didn't see the need to make a name for themselves when they already had a name that carried so much clout. It was tradition. Fleur understood that it was also impossible to run away from your name, just as it was impossible to run from your heritage. Unfortunately.
She finished her latest cigarette and wondered if she should summon one of the house elves to bring her a cappuccino. How long should she wait before she asks…whatever their names were, to leave? She checked the grandfather clock in the tea room and decided to give them a few more minutes rest. Besides, she wasn't sure that she didn't want another round with them before she made them leave.
Fleur summoned herself some parchment and her quill. Far from ordinary, the quill could generate its own ink and the parchment could check spelling in ten different languages. The best galleons could buy. She carefully wrote a letter to Hogwarts, explaining her situation and interest in returning to school there. She was confident that her mother would find out, through her various ways, that Fleur had written to Hogwarts and would, of course, help her get into the school. Her mother wouldn't be against it per say (she preferred that Fleur go to Beauxbaton), but clearly Hogwarts had become the school to attend. Her history of exemplary grades would only help further her case.
She walked over to her owl. It actually disturbed her. Its creepy, bug-like face and eyes upset her, hence why it stayed in the tea room. It was a rare breed, the Oriental Bay owl. Her mother fell in love with its… unique face. Feeling mildly violated she allowed it to settle on her hand. It wasn't a bad tempered owl, it just looked odd. She even tried being affectionate with it in the past but it was very unresponsive. Gabrielle named it Laika, but Fleur could only refer to the owl as 'it.' She deftly tied the note to its leg and released it by the balcony. Like all things Delacour, it was elegant. Fleur grit her teeth and returned to her tea room.
Hogwarts would be interesting. She didn't particularly like it last time but she figured she would be more prepared for the changes this time. They had also renovated the area, hopefully improving its ridiculously drafty castle. Feeling a strange mix of numbness, anticipation, and anxiety, she turned to her bedroom and stripped from her robe. She eyed the men in her bed, deciding on the blond.
Fleur sat on the edge of the bed he was on, his back to her. She traced her fingers along his sculpted back, reaching around his hip and began stroking him slowly. Her thrall began to seep into the room, engulfing the man who had her attention. She watched his body tense and flush, muscles shifting as he began waking. His sex grew hard and a grin blossomed on his face. The goddess wanted him again.
Yet the goddess never smiled for him. No matter how hard he tried to please her, he knew he somehow fell flat. When it was over, they were made to leave her mansion. They were never asked to return again.
Fleur forgot about them shortly after.
A/N: Thank you to all those who reviewed and those who added me to faves and whatnot! I know this is slow going, Im trying to set the stage after all... they'll come face to face soon and then it gets realllllly interesting if I say so myself lol Hope you enjoy, please review if you have the time!