A Veela's Obsession

Chapter One

Fleur Delacour hated them. All of them. Men for drooling over her with those pathetic, glazed over eyes. Women for treating her like she's some kind of veela succubus vying for the opportunity to steal their men away.

"Like hell I would", Fleur thought.

She was on her way to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry to enter into the Triwizard Tournament. She knew entering into the Tournament would change the way people viewed her, it would make everyone realize how much better she was. Madam Maxime, her only real friend and confidant, encouraged her to enter and to finally show these fools what she could do. She would make them see that she wasn't just a trophy for men to catch. She was Fleur Isabelle Delacour, and they would all see soon who that really was.

For now, though, shed have to play the aloof, shy veela. It would be beneficial for her if her competitors underestimated her. It would be easy enough. She'd been playing that role throughout her schooling. No-one, other than her family, knew who she really was... or what she wanted.

Truth be told, Fleur wanted to find love, like her mother had. If she had been a normal girl that would've been easy enough. But she wasn't. Every man she had ever met, other than her father, had been made either a blank eyed drone, or had been filled with so much lust that they would do the extreme to be with her. Allure resistant men were extremely rare in the population. It would be nothing short of a miracle if the Delacour daughters managed to find one.

Fleur, deep down, knew that it could never be. The dream she had of falling in love, getting married, and having children would never be a possibility. There was another option though. She could be married off into a rich family, bear the man's child, take care of the house, be a trophy to be shown off to prove the rich bastards wealth.

Non. Fleur would never allow that to happen. Her family would never allow that to happen. They were well off financially. Her Father was the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in France, he was also a favorite for the French Minister for Magic position once the current minister retired. Fleur would never have to go through that. She would rather end her life than to live as a slave for another man.

Fleur was broken out of her brooding by the wheels of the carriage hitting the ground. It was time. Time for her to put on her mask. Time to face the faces of Hogwarts. She knew what would happen. The boys would immediately go glassy eyed and have eyes only for her. The girls would notice and send her death glares. Either way, all eyes would be on her.

Madame Maxime exited first, greeting the old wizard whom she towered over. Next came the other students, falling into formation in front of the carriage. Then, she came out. Unsurprisingly, all the men stopped and stared. A few even started drooling.

"Disgusting pigs" She thought to herself.

The girls, as expected, were staring at her. Instead of the lust filled gazes of the boys, their gazes held nothing but hate and anger. She scanned the crowd, finding nothing but those hate filled glares and the blank empty eyes. Except...there was a girl looking away from her, it looked like she was talking to a boy her age about something.

The boy was not looking at her. For some strange reason this bothered her. Was she not good looking enough for him? Was she not worthy of his attention? Every other boy had their eyes on her as if fixed there with glue. She wanted— no, needed his attention.

Eventually, the boy turned to look at the carriage. She saw his face for the first time. His mesmerizing green eyes flitting from the Abraxan horses, to the carriage, to each student, looking at each for a second. Fleur knew that as soon as he locked eyes with her, his own would go glassy and dull. "What a shame" she mused, he was quite cute. 

Soon enough, the time came, those green eyes locked with her own blue ones. She felt a shiver run up her spine. While she hated everyone else's gaze, she loved his. For once she would be glad to have one pair of eyes glued to her own. There was just one problem...

He looked away.