A/N: I am humbled by your feedback, I'm sorry for those who didn't find the story to their taste. To the others, I had all but abandoned the story, but I'm back at the behest of an insistent reviewer. Thank-you for that:))
As the son of a Marauder Harry hoped he hadn't disappointed Prongs in not managing any mischief. Sure he'd been laid, had best friends (and more than one, Merlins six they were called) a hot half-veela girlfriend,
Ahh right, he grinned at that thought,
That was another story all together. After his months long effort of collecting horcruxes and manipulating pretty much everyone and everything Harry James Potter had been successful in the beautiful amalgamation that was his Yule Party.
He had decided not to go to Hogwarts. It wasn't part of a big scheme like his other acts were. It simply came down to not wanting to. In fact, if he were scheming, Harry would have immediately returning and started playing the good boy, hero, saviour bla bla bla.
But this Harry wanted to celebrate, live a little.
So just like that, two weeks after their Yule Party - a week of which was spent ('91) in the States, literally living the dream. He liked the highly sexualised nature of the muggle cartoons. Or Disney. Of-course Draco and Neville had the largest culture shock of their lives to learn muggles weren't some barbaric band of underprivileged, un-intelligent people, scrambling to meet a days end.
They didn't have magic, but electricity, television, Nintendo's DS -which the six of them now owned, and that was bloody well better than magic. Any dumb person could use the muggle machinations, but only the strongest could yield the best magic.
The remaining week was spent planing their vacation in Bordeaux and meeting one Narcissa Malfoy. It was prickly affair, Harry had insisted -more than once- for dogman to behave- at which Black had only grinned maniacally. Harry had half a mind to cut of his godfather completely. But the whole point was to present a united Black front to papers and public. Plus other things. It simply wouldn't do if the pair didn't get along in private. Despite Sirius insisted on calling her Cissy, they got along semi-amicably. It was an achievement as any.
They talked about the museum and a new school for war-orphans, the pure-bloods, the muggle-born even cursed creatures (werewolves, half-breeds and mild symptom poxes) to prepare them before Hogwarts-entering age. Narcissa was understandably repelled at first, Harry elaborated it was a school for the weak and unprivileged and muggle-borns, they'd only send their children as a show of solidarity.
"…It's the kind of horse shit common folk will eat up. The Black name needs to be redeemed." summed up Harry. The museum was good start, but not nearly enough to forget the sinister nature of them Blacks.
"Harry -if I can call you so, your project may be doomed from the start. I accept it may be worthwhile but it will never get pureblood acceptance." reasoned Narcissa directly,
"Kiddo, the majority of wizarding Britain power lays with the 'sacred twenty-eight" added his godfather helpfully. Harry scowled at the mocking nickname, recognising Sirius didn't mean offence from it.
Cissy too was unconvinced, her impassive face revealed nothing. But her eyes were already elsewhere.
Very well then.
"They think we're offering their children free education? We're shaping the minds of the future. To think, behave and act exactly as we want them to" spelled out Harry.
Her dark blue orbs suddenly sprung to his. A small smirk curling up the edge of her mouth.
"Merlin you're wicked Harry," gasped his godfather
"I can try," she said hesitatingly, "I have some contacts, some favours I can leverage, but could take a year to mobilize the pact, plus new-bloods,"
Now it was Harry's turn to grin menacingly,
"We won't be needing a year," he assured.
"Beat the strongest and the rest follow," muttered Sirius, once more, impressed by Harry's thinking skills, "You need to convince the ring-leader?" he guessed.
Harry nodded, turning to their female guest, Narcissa scoffed,
"If you think its my husband you're sorely mis-"
"No Cissy," chided Harry.
Her eyes narrowed at his insolence. When he refused to budge she sunk her eyes over him, as if it would reveal the answer. Harry was in no hurry,
"Who?" she mewled at last
"I'm surprised it took you both this long-"
"Po-" she puffed
"Ever heard of a Severus Snape?"
She gasped as it hit her.
"Of-course," she reciprocated
"Very well, I shall leave you to it,"
Once the pact were convinced, Harry would let the Black side of his family take lead, he would be supporting backstage and publicly, by being the first to attend the Angels School for Magic Wielding Souls (AnSaW) or some other wacky name, had yet to decide. He wanted to reason not sticking his name incase the project backfired, really he was just tired and needed a break.
Soon enough, Axel and Sergé Bardot flew into Bordeaux aka Harry and Sirius, playing their part of spoilt high-society English brothers vacationing. Rose Skeeter, Sergé's girlfriend accompanied the brothers. Harry was easily aged up with a temporary variant on of the de-aging Potion Sirius was given. The thirteen looking eleven year old now looked a fit, freshly out of puberty seventeen year old, his 'brother' another fit twenty-year old.
Upon arriving, they had one lunch together before Sergé and Rose left to hit the casinos. Harry let the couple do that and other couple things, as Sergé had warned him, taking off to one of the many gorgeous beaches. He wore an uncharacteristically loud t-shirt, yellow and orange hues but they somehow went with his tanned body. One that was toned and sculpted. Paired with cargo shorts and that meticulous hair-style that said 'I woke up like this' which Sergé had taught him. In all he looked a catch and had shared and received enough winks to know he wouldn't be too lonely.
He was sipping a mojito when he was pleasantly surprised to find a bit of magic. Perhaps it was his Auror training or the absolute lack of magic, that his magicky bits were tingling. Axel let his instinct guide him and calmly followed the aura until he reached a colourful water-sports shack. Shack wasn't the right word. It was a pearIy white establishment, with elegant lounge chairs, music that made his feet tap and filled to the brim with clients but it was something else that made Axel realise he had hit gold.
Veela heritage was evident in her striking features, flawless skin, and lustrous hair—there was no doubt this was the ethereal silvery-blonde Fleur Delacour. It became apparent why the 'shack' was such a success, her aura, literal and magical pulled crowds in. He covertly studied her, not that he needed to, she was occupied in entertaining client after client with her lithe and graceful movements, her jiggling jubblies may have been a small factor in that.
It was too easy, or perhaps he was just that talented, he apparatus back to the Shangri'La and dressed to her appease her sensibilities, from what he'd gathered. A white sweatshirt with short peach shorts, stuck branded sunglasses and expensive white sneakers, and sprayed a strong masculine scent.
Harry walked with a purpose and sat himself on the bar, his gait was self-assured and demanding, he was sure to have caught her eyes. He quickly ordered a cocktail then turned his chair, surveying the scenic view with a frown.
"Rough day?" came her caramel voice to his left, he took another sip, before setting his glass and facing her. She wore a pink and black striped bikini over semi-translucent white overalls. He'd been observing her the entire day but still had to make an effort to not drop his gaze.
"I love this city I do, but you French-lot sure love your French," answered Axel, fixing her light blue orbs. Enchanting on their own, her peaking breasts and time-turner like waist were close seconds.
"So you come in our land, swim in our beaches and expect us to change our ways," she replied teasingly, her eyes already grateful he wasn't a pervert. he was, she didn't have to know innit?
"Je parle le français chérie, mais je préfères pas," he answered just as cheekily, she looked surprised but he cut off her answer, "Is Patrick still here? I was hoping to see him…"
"You just missed him, he left to-"
"Spain?" cut in Harry, having overheard her explaining the story to the regulars day long,
"Bastard, I'll give him an earful when I see him in June then,"
"I suppose so," she agreed with a secret smile,
"So who's running the place now?"
"You're looking at her," she grinned,
"Congratulations, chef..?" exclaimed Harry
"Fleur," she answered, rolling her r.
"Fleur, we need to drink on that!"
"thank-yoouu..?"
"He'mm, Axel," Harry saved himself, he hoped un-noticably,
"Enchanté Axel,"
"Egal Fleur,"
Soon they were lost in conversation about her internship, themselves, life and what-not.
"Ah putain" she sweared out of the blue, Axel acted surprised but he knew what it was,
"que passo?"
"Thats Spanish and I'm suppose to go..bonfire with my friends,"
"Ah sounds cool, I suppose I should head back, maybe I'll get some time with Sergé,"
"You're coming with me Axel!"
"I am?" he chuckled, "Thank-you I would love to," he continued earnestly,
"These are friends from my school, they will tease us," she said with a faint blush, "but that's fine, we also have weird drinks, like whisky but..
"with Fire?" she stood stunned, Harry grinned and continued, "Odgen's is my favourite, I hope you have those, should I take one from the magical side of the bar?"
"When did you know!?" she exclaimed, agitating his forearm,
"I felt a magical aura, wasn't sure, till now,"
"Morgana, but that is perfect,"
"So, Odgen's?"
"My friends will definitely judge you," she shrugged her shoulders,
"As if they don't judge you, working a muggle day job,"
"Part muggle Axel,"
"I personally think its admirable, parents must be proud,"
"Prized jewel of Delacours,"
"Fleeurr" exclaimed her drunk friends, when the pair reached their camp. They were an attractive lot, he would eye'd any of them, Fleur was of-course the most precious,
"Bitch look at the time, and who's the boy? fuck buddy?"
"Alexa are you totally mad?" exclaimed his Veela in French,
"Axel," cut in Harry charmingly, "un Odgens pour notre retard," doing his most suave impression of Sirius.
"fuck c'est un Anglais..hello um I-I am Alexa, you Axel, Alexa-Axel two of one non?" saucily cheeked
Axel eyes her deliberately, was it a rule for all french girls to be smoking hot? she had straight blond hair till her waist and a plentiful arse to beneath it, protruding from her tight black jeggings,
"Alexa-Axel action sounds like fun babe,"
"back-off," grit the princess herself, stepping between and finding a spot by the fire and seating herself right between his legs.
The main contender to Fleurs authority sniffed but sat down and the rest of the gang coo-ed, then introduced themselves.
"I was just teasing," whispered Harry
"You better," sniffed Fleur.
Her hands caressing his thighs in painful pleasure. Harry reciprocated by scooping past her side-boob and teasingly biting and kissing her exposed neck.
"Won't look side-ways at any boy in school, the first Brit to speak some 'oribble French and buy an Ogden's she forgets her friends,"
"They bore her," dead-toned Fleur. There was a brief moment of silence before the girls were giggling.
The night progressed smoothly, she had a fun group of friends, singing, dancing and enjoying the warmth radiated by the fire. When it got chilly, Axel offered Fleur his sweatshirt, and getting increasingly daring, overtly fondled her breasts underneath. Meanwhile she stuck her arsecheeks between his erection.
Only when Lea, the rare non-blonde, was falling asleep did they call it a night. Hand-in-hand Harry and Fleur walked amiably to his rooms.
A/N: What an unusually hot weather in France... in retrospect I realized it is most likely not a beach-weather in the middle of January. There's possibly larger loopholes before (which I hope to fix) maybe I'll find a way to fix this blunder too. Some smutty veela-action coming up next;)