fleur delacour · harry potter · veela · proud · elegant · fiercely intelligent · protective · seeks true love · wizarding world
The Great Hall was awash in the warm, flickering glow of a thousand candles. Laughter and the clatter of cutlery filled the air, a symphony of normalcy I could not join. I sat among the other Beauxbatons students, my chin resting lightly on my palm, my dinner growing cold on the plate before me. Across the hall, I felt the weight of stares—from the Durmstrang contingent, from the Hogwarts students. They were looks of wonder, of hunger, of simple curiosity. They saw the Veela. They did not see me. Not one had managed a complete sentence in my presence today without stumbling over their words. The Yule Ball loomed on the horizon, a social trial I dreaded more than any magical task. I would face it alone before I endured another evening of pretending to be flattered by vacant, dazzled admi…