Champions

The trouble with Veela

Fleur Delacour was often overlooked. Oh, she was noticed – as a veela it was hard not to be, to her ongoing distress – but that was only her beauty. Fleur herself, the person within the shell, was a complete unknown to all but her family.

She spent many years perfecting her outer image, the perfect combination of snobbery and shallowness, which she used to push ordinary people away. It offered a counterweight to the natural magical allure that drew them to her in the first place, resulting in a scenario where people loved to watch from afar, but were unwilling to approach her directly. It was the only way she could have any peace.

Unfortunately, it also meant that she had no friends.

Oh, there was the occasional acquaintance, but she had yet to meet someone outside her family who could manage to enjoy her company without becoming either intimidated by her beauty, or enthralled by it. Her few attempts at friendship had ended in rapid disaster: the boys did nothing but drool, and the girls hated her for the way the boys acted. Fleur could never understand their jealousy; why would they desire such a lonely existence?

The result was that she spent a great deal of time on her own, taking solace in books and homework, and academically she was at the top of her class. Of course, this just made things worse: beauty and brains? Impossible! She must be cheating! And on it went.

And if that weren't bad enough, now she was in this stupid Tournament!

Her Headmistress had been quite convincing, playing on her insecurities as she had: wouldn't the students love you if you brought home such glory? Wouldn't it prove once and for all that you earned your grades? Fleur had fallen for it hook, line, and sinker – and worse, it was backfiring spectacularly!

Her performance against the dragon was reasonable enough, though what they were thinking with such a task was beyond her. Even Maxime was angry at the dangers involved, as she had been promised that the Tournament would be safe! But the contract was binding, and Fleur had to compete; and somehow, by some miracle, she had prevailed against the most frightening experience of her life to date.

It seemed a good thing, for once earning the adulation of her fellow students even if she didn't take first place, but she could hear the quiet murmurs in the background. Some wondered if her performance relative to the other Champions – especially a fourteen-year-old who wasn't even supposed to be there – was indicative of her future in the Tournament. Was she really good enough to represent such a prestigious school as Beauxbatons?

The Second Task only leant credence to their fears. Never mind that she was terrified for the safety of her sister – and whose idea was that, anyway? – and never mind that Veela and water don't mix. The fact that she had to be rescued, and came in dead last, had fanned the flames, and the murmurs became a dull roar. She feared her return to the school, as she was likely to be lynched before she could even graduate, for she had no doubt that she was going to lose!

Sadly, though, for all that she was worried about these things, they were the least of her problems at the moment.

Harry Potter, bless his soul, had acquiesced to her request to keep quiet about what had truly gone on in the depths of the Black Lake. She wasn't sure why it bothered her at the time – she was too emotional after her rescue at his hands, let alone that of her sister – but made the request just the same, and he was kind enough to agree. It wasn't until several hours after the fact that her thoughts finally calmed enough that she could think about it.

And now that she had, she was terrified! She stood outside the door to her father's guest accommodations, trembling in fear, clueless as to how he would react. Her father was opposed to this from the beginning, and now that she understood the real danger, she wished that she would have listened! It was too late now, though, and it was time to face the music.