What A Veela Wants

VIII. The Game Ahead

You slam the door behind you and dump your textbooks on your desk, apparently to the bemusement of both Luna and Fleur: the Veela brushing her hair whilst the blonde sits staring out of the window.

"And then I get told I've got a Muggle Studies book overdue. How in Merlin's name is that possible? I've always returned my books on time, and I can't seem to find this damn book anywhere."

"You mean this one, ma chérie?" Fleur waves the book in front of your face. "I hid it in one of your cupboards to zee if you would notice."

"Why such the long face, Rhae?" Your lips curl into a smile, resulting in a slap around the back of the head.

"I'm just worn out, Luna. It's bad enough with Crouch and Bagman breathing down the back of my neck, but with the expectation of not turning out like my father, training Harry, and all the countless other factors incorporating themselves into my stress levels. I'd just want one weekend where I could just put my feet up. Speaking of, would you guys like to go fishing on the lake?"

Fleur shakes her head. "I think zat I've had enough of zat of ze lake for more zan one lifetime, ma chérie. I'll just take a walk around ze castle."

"Fair enough. Luna, you coming?"

"Give me five minutes, Rhae, and I'll be there."

[./.]

Fleur walks around another corner, when a hand reaches out from one of the doors and covers her mouth, pulling her into an unused broom cupboard.

"Alright you slut." The voice of Ravenclaw's Quidditch captain takes Fleur by surprise. "You are the closest person to Rhaegal Grindelwald, and I'm gonna use you to bring the school's Golden Boy down."

His free hand snakes further towards Fleur's crotch. "Now, unless you want my hand to go any further, tell me anything I can use against him, or you'll end up exactly like so many of your dove-like, helpless French colleagues that I enjoyed at the Yule Ball."

[./.}

You sit at the edge of the Black Lake, Luna flanking you on your left with a trout hooked on the end of her rod.

"Well done Luna, great catch!"

The sky begins to darken, and the silvery streaks at the far end of the lake move closer to the castle.

"Uh, Rhaegal, should we be heading back?"

"That would seem like a wise decision."

"Now I understand why you're a Ravenclaw." You smile back at her, and outstretch your hand, which she accepts, and walks with you back to the castle.

You make it to the staircase, when Harry and Gabrielle run headfirst into you, knocking you off your feet.

"Hey guys, what's going on?" You ask, as Gabrielle and Harry share glances at you.

"It's Fleur. She's in the Hospital Wing." Your heart sinks, with you and Luna running to the Hospital Wing, seeing Fleur sitting on one of the beds surrounded by a group of her friends.

"Mon amour." You say, rushing up to Fleur and smothering her in a hug. "Ce qui vous est arrivé?"

"Il y a ce garçon à Serdaigle, le capitaine de Quidditch je pense. Il m'a violée, je pense pour essayer de faire tomber ta réputation. Personne n'aimerait une victime de viol. Pas même toi, mon amour." You look at Fleur, and shake your head in denial.

"Ce bâtard. Reste ici, Luna va t'aider. Je vais régler ça une fois pour toutes." You turn to leave the room, but Luna grabs your shoulder.

"Don't you dare do anything stupid."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

You storm out of the Hospital Wing, heading down one of the school's many staircases, before arriving at the Ravenclaw common room. You press yourself against the wall upon hearing Roger Davies' voice coming from the staircase that leads up to the dorms.

"... And then I fucked that French bitch to try and break Rhaegal's spirit. God, she really put up a fight to try and get away from me." You clench your fist tightly around your wand, before emerging from the alcove in the wall.

"Ah, Rhaegal, what a surprise."

"You can drop the act, Davies, we both know what you've done. That's dirty, even by your standards - I'm surprised that you send one of your cronies to get the job done." Davies' face turns sour, as his cronies stand up and prepare for a fight.

"You all know there's no point fighting me - I could kill you all in my pyjamas before my first cup of Earl Grey."

"I'd rather make a heroic last stand than surrender meekly, and I think that my boys are raring for a fight. After all, we did rape half of the Beauxbatons emissaries."

"Thanks for your confession, Roger." The Quidditch captain looks at you confused. "I've had my wand recording everything you've said since I've walked into the room. Not only have you confessed to raping my mate, which in itself is a criminal offense of the highest order, but you've also admitted to conspiracy of rape as well. I'm guessing that the Ministry will have a field day with you." With that, you leave the common room and head straight to Dumbledore's office, leaping up the stairs.

"Professor Dumbledore?" You say, and the Headmaster emerges from behind you, walking around in front of you and leans against his desk.

"Yes, my boy."

"I believe that Roger Davies is guilty of rape." Dumbledore looks at me with eyes wide open in shock.

"That is an extremely serious allegation. I'm afraid without evidence, I can't believe you." You sigh, and play the audio that you recorded from your wand to Dumbledore, who looks at you with a stoic façade, but you knew the professor well enough to know that he was seething with fury.

"Where is Mr Davies?"

"If he had any sense, he'd still be holed up in the Ravenclaw common room with his cronies."

"Is Ms Delacour alright?"

"Fleur's still up in the Hospital Wing. She's only feeling comfortable talking in French to me and her friends."

"Okay. I'll deal with Mr Davies. Make sure that Ms Delacour is alright."

You leave Dumbledore's office and head back to the Hospital Wing, only seeing Hermione with Fleur resting her head on one of her friend's shoulder.

"How are you feeling, Fleur?" You ask, and your mate leaps off the bed and into your arms.

"Can we go back to our room now, mon amour?" You nod, and escort Fleur back to your shared room, slamming the door behind you in frustration.