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It's been well over a week since Harry arrived in Italy, and unfortunately, it was time to move on.
The only reason he even stayed so long was to get a chance to talk to Daphne again. It had been years since Harry had some sort of meaningful conversation with a woman that wasn't a prelude to sex. Plus, he felt illogically fond of the blonde witch since she was the closest Harry had gotten to Magical Britain since he escaped. However, Daphne was nowhere to be seen since the night he took home those two witches.
It was strange for Harry to look for someone to just have a conversation with. While he wished to stay and see if Daphne would turn up, Valentina Zabini made that impossible. Harry really underestimated that woman's drive. Out of respect to the fact that he had slept with her, Harry tried to be polite with his rejections, but he had limits that were quickly being reached. Especially when she was chasing away most of his targets.
That was crossing the line. It had been Harry's sole purpose and goal for years, and this woman had decided to interfere with a false belief that he was the same type of easily enticed man as her previously murdered husbands.
Before Harry did something he might regret, he decided the best way to solve this problem was to just leave the country. Plus, it also helped that he was slightly disappointed that none of his old friends had come to check up on him yet. Harry knew he was being more than a little narcissistic, expecting his friends to come running. Still, he consoled himself by saying he didn't want to return to Magical Britain just yet.
However, Harry'd move closer to home in case they hadn't gotten word of his presence in Italy. They're not meeting him on purpose if they couldn't find him in France. Harry would decide whether to keep acting like a stubborn fool after that.
Plus, there was one other benefit to choosing France. Harry was intensely curious about what the Veela had to offer. Sure, Bulgaria might be a better choice if he wanted to visit an enclave, but that country was even farther from Britain than Italy.
Harry absentmindedly pointed his wand at his scattered clothes. He packed them into a small suitcase that he shrank and pocketed away. Harry was debating if he should look for Daphne one last time before leaving the country, but it would likely be a waste of time. Harry figured he could look her up when he got home if the urge was strong enough.
Harry looked at the hotel room that had been his resting place for the last week before apparating out. He appeared in a muted pop in a hidden spot close to an airport. Harry checked for any muggles that might have seen him before walking in to get in the line.
There had been plenty of choices Harry could have taken instead of a plane, but this mode of transport was something he hadn't really experienced. It would be nice to apparate directly to France, but doing so when Harry had never set foot in the country was a recipe for disaster. And getting a portkey would have required Harry to meet Italian officials, which he would rather not do. He didn't want to deal with a potential fallout from some politician using the fact he spoke to them as some sort of endorsement.
Harry spent most of the time standing in line at the security checkpoint thinking about Veela. He fantasized about a night with one of them being worth more than ten times compared with a regular witch. Harry could only wish his delusion would come true. The time needed to perfect his magic would shorten exponentially.
"Potter?"
Harry almost jumped out of his skin in shock, not expecting anyone to know him in a place like this. He looked in the direction of the voice and was surprised to see Daphne standing in line a couple of spots behind him.
"Daphne? What in M-," Harry cut himself off from saying Merlin's name just in time, remembering that muggles were surrounding him. "What in the world are you doing here?"
Harry let a couple people get ahead of him to stand next to Daphne. He had seen her dressed to impress, and now he'd seen her effortlessly fit in with the muggles with her clothes designed for comfort. And in both situations, Daphne was stunningly gorgeous.
"I blame you, Potter. Why did you have to bed Zabini's mum?"
Harry's eyes widened and cast a privacy spell when the muggles around them turned to stare. Unfortunately, his spell was fairly weak since it was done without a wand. They would have to keep the conversation quiet to keep the magic effective.
Harry hissed, "A little warning would be nice before you air my dirty laundry."
"That's the least you deserve," Daphne said with a smirk, "That woman wouldn't leave me alone ever since she saw me talking to you. Don't stick your dick in crazy, Potter. Have you never heard of that?"
Harry felt terrible that Valentina was bothering Daphne because of him, but that still didn't explain why she was at the airport.
Daphne must have seen his unasked question because she added, "She was lurking around the Ministry offices. Probably looking for you. And I have no intention of letting her know where I'm going next."
Harry winced, but he still couldn't feel enough regret over it. If he knew that Valentina would have turned into some sort of obsessive stalker if he slept with her, Harry would have changed none of his actions. Out of all the witches he had taken to bed in Italy, the black widow had been the best lay for his magic, and that's all that mattered.
Still, Harry felt that he should apologize. "Er, I'm sorry you had to deal with that."
Daphne looked unmoved, "But not enough to regret what you did."
"Well," Harry rubbed the back of his head, "No. Not at all."
Daphne rolled her green eyes in mock disgust. There was a brief moment of silence as they moved closer to the security checkpoint before Daphne asked, "So where are you going?"
"France," Harry said absentmindedly as his attention was grabbed by a woman who entered the back of the line. He sensed that she would be of use to him, but unfortunately, she also had a gaggle of kids around her with a man nearby. Harry was a little disappointed. It was rare these days for muggle women to alert him.
Daphne noticed Harry's distraction and followed his line of sight. When she saw the middle-aged but still somewhat attractive woman, Daphne wasn't sure what to think. Especially since that woman seemed to be with her family.
"Do you have any standards, Potter? Even her?"
Harry looked away guiltily, "I don't know what you're talking about."
"I'm sure," Daphne said with a sneer, "You're lucky you're a wizard. You might have died from some disease without it."
"True," Harry accepted without shame.
While Daphne might be mocking Harry for his strange attraction to seemingly random women, she was internally wondering what made that woman special. Whatever Harry's requirements for his conquests were, Daphne now knew neither age nor physical attractiveness were factors.
She came from a family with an extensive library and knew sex magic was very real. But what Harry was doing was only matched by the darkest of arts, magic that stole the vitality of the partner through the act of sex. The only problem was that Daphne found it hard to believe the man that put down the Dark Lord would fall to such depths of depravity. More importantly, none of the women Harry slept with had adverse side effects.
They passed the security checkpoint, both deep in their own thoughts. Harry was ready to reluctantly say goodbye to Daphne when he noticed she was walking with him.
"Where did you say you were going?"
"I didn't, but if your flight's in thirty minutes, then it's the same as mine."
Harry blinked at Daphne's answer. "Really? You just happened to be going to France too?"
"I spent most of the years after Hogwarts as the liaison to the French Ministry. So yes, Potter, I happen to be going to France."
What Daphne said technically wasn't a lie. She did spend most of her working life in that position. Daphne left out that her main job now was to lure Harry Potter back to Magical Britain.
"Oh," Harry was a little disappointed and, at the same time, glad. It was a little convenient that a fellow alumni met him in Italy and was somehow on the same muggle transportation to France. Harry thought it could have been a way for his old friends to contact him. On the other hand, that would also mean Daphne had an ulterior motive for talking to him.
However, thinking of her rejecting his advances and following criticism of his promiscuity, Harry figured it was highly unlikely.
"So why take a flight? The only reason I'm doing this is because I can't apparate there directly. You, however, had a job in France. You could have apparated there and saved all this time."
"Potter," Daphne pulled Harry to a stop, "Are you saying you can apparate to Paris from here?"
"...Yes?" Harry confirmed with confusion, not sure why Daphne looked so shocked.
Harry got defensive when the blonde still looked like she didn't believe him. "I know how to apparate! I'll show you when we get to France."
Daphne was speechless. Either Harry was lying, or he didn't know how amazing that was. Most witches and wizards had trouble apparating between cities, let alone countries. It was the reason portkeys existed.
She then remembered the feeling of his magic washing over her body while he was calmly sitting on that bar stool a week ago. Daphne realized that Harry most likely wasn't exaggerating his abilities. Being a witch that knew how to take advantage of the moment, Daphne decided to take a leap of faith and recklessly put her safety in Harry's hands. Her core belief of self-reliance made it anathema to do so, but sometimes, risks had to be taken to get even better benefits.
"... If I show you a memory of my apartment in Paris, would you be able to take us both there?"
"I could...," Harry was hesitant, "I'm absolute pants at the mind arts. You'll have to help push that memory out if you want me to see it."
That actually made Daphne a little more relieved. Taking down her occlumency shields was the thing that concerned her the most. With a nod, Daphne said, "I can do that."
While Harry's spell made it difficult for muggles to understand what they were saying, the sight wasn't affected whatsoever. It looked like Harry and Daphne were staring into each other's eyes before the two moved to a place with less foot traffic. Most people who saw this assumed that they were two people in love.
With the faintest of pops, Harry and Daphne appeared in a tastefully decorated apartment with a view of the Parisian skyline.
Daphne was staring at Harry in amazement as he stared out the windows. Harry didn't seem to be fatigued in the slightest, and not only that, Daphne barely felt the squeezing sensation that was a common occurrence during apparition. That told of immense power combined with Harry's envious control over his magic.
It couldn't have been natural.
Daphne was starting to get a hint of why Harry was having so much sex. Though she still had no idea how there seemed to be no side-effects with the women involved.
Unknown to Daphne, she was on the right track with the wrong suspicion. Harry's magic hadn't changed much since he had spent most of his time focusing on his body. The only significant change since Hogwarts was the removal of the horcrux, but Daphne didn't have that information.
"You have a beautiful home."
Daphne put her occlumency to good use and stamped down her intense curiosity. With a strained smile, she replied, "Thank you."
"I know this might be a bit rude," Harry said sheepishly, "But I have somewhere I need to be."
Daphne wondered which woman he had his eyes on. But this also worked in her favor. She would use this time to try and find out what he was doing.
"That's fine," Daphne said with a shrug, "You know where I live, Potter. Visit me if you ever get bored of being a trollop."
"Trollop?" Harry snorted with amusement, "Is that what you think of me?"
"Am I wrong?" Daphne said with arched eyebrows.
Harry couldn't deny it, so he just laughed it off. "No, I suppose you aren't. But a man could get his feelings hurt with your words, Daphne."
Daphne rolled her eyes for what felt like the umpteenth time around Harry. "If you're trying to butter me up, Potter, it's not working. Get your rocks off somewhere else."
"Fine, fine," Harry surrendered, planning to apparate to his destination before realizing he hadn't been there. Before he walked out of the apartment, Harry said, "I'll see you soon, Daphne!"
Daphne moved to the window to look down at the street. When she saw Harry exiting the building, she quickly made for the fireplace connected to the floo network. Daphne needed more information than the file she received from the minister. This was becoming far more than simply bringing Harry Potter back.
Daphne went through the effort of making up a story of Valentina Zabini bothering her just so she could have a reason to get on the same flight that Harry chose. That's not even mentioning how Daphne found out that he was taking a plane to France in the first place.
The Greengrass name was in the gutter, and Daphne's only goal was to lift it back up. No matter what she had to do. Getting the Ministry of Magic to help might do something for her officially, but that wouldn't change people's minds. Harry Potter would be able to do so.
In Daphne's eyes, he was her ideal man in all ways... except for his propensity to sleep around... and the possibility that he might be using some sort of unknown sex magic. Hopefully, she would be able to clear up some of her doubts with the floo call.
Harry wasn't thinking about what Daphne might be doing. He had an uncomfortable smile as a stunning Gabrielle Delacour tried to meld herself into his body while her parents watched with amused smiles.
"I missed you, 'Arry! Are you staying in ze city for long?"
"For a week or so before I move on," Harry replied while trying to gently push Gabrielle away. The girl was beyond beautiful, but Harry felt she was somewhat lacking compared to when he first saw Fleur. Maybe it was because he had more experience now than in the fourth year of Hogwarts.
And more importantly, neither Gabrielle nor Apolline set off his senses, telling Harry that both would be of no help in improving himself. He didn't expect that.
"Why don't you stay wiz us?" Apolline offered, "Fleur wouldn't be 'appy if you stay in a 'otel while in Paris."
When Harry hesitated to accept, Apolline added, "We could introduce you to some of ze people we know tomorrow. Zere is a party being 'eld in ze manor."
That got Harry's attention.
"A party, you say...," Harry thought it over and said, "You convinced me."
He immediately flinched when an ear-splitting squeal left the mouth of the girl that was attached to his body like a limpet.
Harry looked at the older Delacours helplessly when Gabrielle started to speak excitedly in French while looking at him with sparkling eyes. If he didn't know better, Harry would have thought Gabrielle was still a little girl and not the nearly-twenty-year-old she was.
He was thankful that Gabrielle didn't grab his attention. He wouldn't have done anything even if she did, but it was nice to have absolutely no temptation.
Harry was dragged away by Gabrielle for an impromptu house tour. In the middle of being introduced to a truly extravagant guest room, Harry asked, "Who's coming to this party, Gabrielle?"
Harry heard many names that he didn't recognize, but he understood the last part, "... ma cousine, Adriana!"
"This Adriana," Harry asked casually, "Is she a Veela too?"
When Gabrielle confirmed that she was, Harry was happy. He didn't know why the two Veela he had seen so far couldn't set off his senses, but there would be another chance pretty soon. And if that didn't work either, Harry knew France had plenty more Veela to discover.
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