บท 15: Chapter 14

"Ronald?" Gabrielle began questioningly, grabbing the red head's attention from across the lunch table.

"Yeah?" he asked, what looked like a whole baked potato skin flashing between his teeth as he spoke.

'So gross,' she lamented, alternating between scathing thoughts on the English and their poor manners and approval of Hermione's elbowing technique, which was being put on display as the chocolate eyed girl berated Ron for his rudeness.

When the girl's beat down finally came to an end, Gabby asked, as though nothing had happened, "Do you know where 'Arry ees? I 'ave not seen 'im since yesterday."

"Hmm," the boy hummed, grabbing his chin in thought. "He was still in his bed the last time I saw him, but that was hours ago. He's not usually one to skip classes, but H of M and Potions both suck, so maybe he decided to do something better with his time."

The ginger teen looked envious of his friend's hypothetical brilliance.

"Either way," he said, shooting her a knowing look, "I'm sure he'll come slinking back in eventually- the dog. You, as his new favorite friend, will surely be the first person he graces with his presence. I doubt he even remembers us mere mortals exist."

Gabrielle felt her cheeks warm at the reminder of the attention Harry always seemed to be paying her and looked down at her lunch, muttering a thanks to the wizard.

Now that she'd been reminded of it, Gabrielle couldn't stop thinking of all the times the dark haired incubus would sit next to her- always leaning in to tease and compliment her. Sometimes, when the mood was a little less playful, he'd tell her stories instead, of his time in and away from the great gray castle she found herself in now. He was extremely, unusually open with her.

Most of these stories were amusing tales of the mischief he and his friends had managed to get into over the years. Some of the adventures he'd been through had sounded too big for any single person to have experienced, but she'd asked around a little, and even the students who didn't seem to like Harry agreed he was telling the truth.

Other stories, though, he told only in whispers while they were alone. Accounts of when he was younger, when he was powerless. He told her stories of failing. He told her stories of the shame he felt. These were the tales that really reached her. He reminded her of herself in so many ways.

Harry never technically came out and said as much, but Gabby knew she was the only one he ever shared those particular stories with, and it made her hidden feathers tingle to know he trusted her so.

She did her best to match his generosity with tales of her own childhood, and he always listened intently while she spoke, staring at her tenderly with clear green eyes, but Gabrielle felt her own woes seemed less significant than his. She'd gotten flustered and admitted as much to him once.

It was the only time she'd ever seen him upset with her, and Gabby wasn't eager to relive the sick feeling that had caused in her stomach.

They didn't always spend their time together talking, sometimes because others were around and other times because they just didn't feel like it, but regardless, it never seemed to fail that Harry somehow found his way to her side whenever they were in the same room.

If she was being honest, Gabrielle found her way to his side occasionally as well. Lately, she'd been worrying that she'd begun to enjoy the boy's presence a little too much. Thoughts of him had begun to invade her thoughts and dreams, and adult emotions had grown roots in her preoccupied head.

Any prolonged thoughts on the green eyed incubus inevitably led her back to the kiss they had shared in her room. It had been so spur of the moment, and they'd been interrupted halfway through, but she still couldn't seem to get the memory out of her head. She didn't regret it, but the idea of kissing him again made her nervous…

She had yet to bring it up with the boy, despite wanting to quite desperately over the last few weeks. Had it not been for his constant presence by her side and the tender looks they shared, Gabby would have believed the incubus to regret their shared moment. That would have hurt.

As it was, the young veela imagined that he must just be as embarrassed to bring it up as she was.

That he could seed witches he barely knew on a daily basis and still get embarrassed by something as comparatively minor as a kiss left the girl feeling both aggravated and flattered.

And a bit excited.

"He shouldn't be skipping classes anyway," Hermione remarked a little heatedly, drawing Gabby from her thoughts.

"The First Task is the day after tomorrow," the other redhead of the group, Ginny, reminded her friend diplomatically. "Maybe he's trying to prepare."

"I don't see how," Ron butted in. "He told me he still didn't know what it's about."

Ginny seemed like she was about to say something, but then an odd look came over her face, and she closed her mouth instead.

Gabby turned a little to look at her sister at the mention of the Triwizard Tournament. She'd felt so proud of her when her name had come sailing out of that goblet. In her mind, it was proof that there could be more to a veela than just looks and allure.

Still seeking validation, are we?

Gabby murdered the thought.

Looking at Fleur, she considered her talents as a veela. It was not that her sister was lacking in that department either. She was skilled at charms, wards, and dueling, and was also a deft hand with her veela magic, but there was no doubt that she was ridiculously beautiful as well. Her allure was insanely powerful as well- when she used it.

'Harry liked her feathers,' Gabrielle suddenly remembered, jealous. She had never even considered that a human could find a transformed veela attractive.

Then again, Harry wasn't a human though, was he?

Oh, he did a great job pretending to be, but Gabrielle had done extensive research on his species. His muscle fibers were denser, to make mating with stronger creatures easier. His nose could detect female sex and excitement, and worked together with his incubus magiks to make him a venerable lust hound dog.

It was enough to make a girl paranoid, but no matter how flustered or… excited, she got around him, he never mentioned it, even when he'd come back, fresh out of a random witch's pussy, stinking to high heaven of sex and she just knew that she must be radiating her arousal.

She did catch the incubus staring at her from the corner of his eye a few of the times she'd tried kneading her thighs together discreetly in search of relief. Getting caught just made her embarrassed and wet, and she usually took it out on him.

Most of the time, if Gabrielle was being violent with Harry, it was to hide the fact that she was so riled up.

'It's not just that,' she remembered, indulging in a little of the pre-mentioned thigh rubbing under the table. 'His, ah, penis- it's supposed to be 'genetically perfect' for impregnating his… prey.' Blushing down at her plate, she thought, 'I suppose that must means he's big down there…'

She'd never actually seen a penis before, outside of certain less than educational texts she hid under her mattress, but from the swelling she'd spotted between his legs a few times before, usually ending closer to his knee than his groin, the books were right. If so, then he should also have a gland capable of secreting lubricant, and a mild pain reliever.

'For virgins…' she thought, biting her lips and lightly rolling her fork. Gods, but she could just imagine him now: shirtless, all muscles and warm, softly tanned skin, whispering into her ear, making her laugh, kissing her, making her so wet he could just glide in, every molecule of her sex setting off like fireworks as he finally-

"Gabby!" Fleur whispered urgently, shoving her. Looking up at her, the young veela realized that half the eyes in the hall were trained on her. The male half.

Flushing wildly, she jerked to her feet, drawing the rest of the eyes.

What have you done!?

It was all she could do to stammer out an apology before fleeing from the hall.

Rushing out of the castle, Gabby had to focus on not crying as she began making her way towards the Beauxbaton's carriage, and her room. Halfway there, a sudden breeze picked up around her, and she stopped to collect herself. She'd managed to blink back her tears and calm herself a bit, but her joints were still tense and a little shake refused to leave her hands.

Look what you've done to me, Harry.

"Stupid boy… Where are you?"

As though summoned from her thoughts, the incubus in question appeared in the corner of her vision.

Startled, she turned to watch as he slowly ambled his way out of the Forbidden Forest.

Is that where you've been?

Narrowing her eyes in anger, Gabby waited for him notice her. She'd give him a piece of her mind, just as soon as he got into striking distance!

Has he been off playing in the forest all day while I've been making a fool of myself, thinking about him? I bet he was out there screwing around!

A bit of the ol' excitement flared up inside her at the thought, along with some frustrated anger.

"'Arry! 'Arry Potter!"

He turned at his name and spotted her.

She opened her mouth to curse him and his whole family line but stopped short. A megawatt smile had split his face the moment he'd recognized her. He waived, calling back to her, and started jogging over.

"I-idiot…" she murmured, closing her mouth as her treacherous brow began evening out despite her.

How am I supposed to be mad at that?

She was smiling too by the time he reached her.

"Hey there good-lookin'," he said. Gabby smiled and blushed. "I got something for you."

She stared at his handsome smile for a few seconds before eloquently asking, "Huh?"

His smile turned to a grin and he shook his head. He grabbed her hand and pulled. "Not here. Come on."

Reddening at the contact, Gabby felt her allure slip again. She reigned it back in as quickly as she could, but Harry still stopped to look back at her.

"W-where eez Bell?" she asked suddenly.

He smiled. "I sent her off to the castle. She was tired."

"Oh."

With that, they were moving again, at least until she realized that his target was the Black Lake.

"'Arry," she protested lightly, slowing her step. "Veela don't really like ze water…"

He shot her a look that she thought was strange. "We won't be getting wet."

The thought, 'Maybe you won't' echoed through her head unbridled, in a voice not unlike Harry's, and the veela flushed. She was sure she reeked of teenage excitement, but Harry gave no sign he'd picked up on anything out of the ordinary.

Reaching the calm shore of the Black Lake, Gabby slowed to a stop and watched as her incubus escort withdrew his wand, muttering a quiet, "Vatrkraft," which spawned a simple timber rowboat on the sandy shore.

"That's advanced magic," she observed admiringly in French.

"Thanks," he smiled, a little bashfully. "It's not the Titanic, but I thought it'd be nice. I got you something."

Feeling herself grow a little nervous, Gabrielle just nodded at Harry, a light patch of pink dusting across the bridge of her nose and cheeks.

Not wanting him too close, just in case he really hadn't caught scent of her arousal and wasn't just being polite, Gabby refused his offer to help her into the boat.

"I don't need your help, Harry," she informed him matter-of-factly. Wincing at the edge in her tone, Gabby was both relieved and frustrated that Harry, as usual, didn't seem to mind her shortness with him much at all.

Indeed, he just smiled at her warmly and agreed, "You are pretty graceful."

"Shut up," she mumbled out, embarrassed, jumping into the boat and taking a seat awkwardly.

Harry just smirked and pushed her out onto the water, hopping in at the last moment to avoid getting wet. They were slowly floating their way further away from the shore, and while she wasn't frond of the water itself, Gabby admitted to herself that it was quite peaceful in the little boat.

She let Harry paddle them out quite far before her tongue got the best of her, and she asked, "So what ees eet? What did you get me?"

Harry smiled, obviously proud of whatever he'd done.

Love it when you do that.

She watched as he dropped the oars and began digging around in his pocket. He withdrew what seemed to her like a tiny stone.

"A pearl?"

His eyes flickered to hers for a moment, but instead of answering her he whispered, "Finite."

Even without his wand drawn, the spell still took effect, and Gabrielle watched with confusion as the pearl swelled until it was the size of a large melon. Realizing that it was a melon, and recognizing it almost immediately, Gabby clapped her hands excitedly. "That's El Diablo la Alma! 'Ow did you- 'Arry, where did you find zis?"

He gave a little shrug and answered, "I went out and picked one for you a little bit ago."

He picked it himself?

"But zey only grow een arachne nests! You could 'ave been killed!"

An odd look, similar to the one from before, flittered across his face as he admitted, "I suppose I kinda did barely make it out of there," almost to himself more than to her. "But it really wasn't so bad," he insisted, focusing back on her. "I heard it's supposed to taste pretty good, and I figured we could try it out together."

Warm splashes of happiness tossed around inside of her.

"'Arry…"

He blushed and grinned, pleased. Conjuring a knife, he set to slicing.

The screaming she could do without, but Harry was as quick about it as possible, and before long she had a long, thick wedge of the snow white fruit in her hands.

Breathing deeply, Gabrielle felt her mouth water at the exquisite sweetness that invaded her nostrils. She sunk her teeth into one of the corners of her slice and moaned loudly at the rich, juicy nectar that oozed out onto her taste buds- like every sweet strawberry she'd ever savored but a hundred times better. Pushing the bite around with her tongue, the little veela felt her toes curl as she finally swallowed, reveling in the satisfying feeling of the fruit sliding down her throat.

Opening her eyes, Gabrielle just caught sight of a very red-in-the-face Harry Potter before he looked down.

A potent cocktail of flattery and power rushed through her veins as she realized she was the one making him blush and look away for once. Eyes sparkling, even as she flushed in embarrassment herself, the girl took another big bite of her treat, not holding back as she moaned and groaned in pleasure, peeking now and then through her eyelashes to watch Harry watch her.

A dangerous something began to coil in her lower belly, and Gabby had to stop herself from kneading her thighs together as the incubus pretended not to notice her borderline-lewd display. Licking at her pink lips, half to rile the incubus up more and half to make sure none of his gift went unsavored, Gabby held out the tip of the final chunk of her slice towards Harry.

"Go ahead," she encouraged quietly, her voice a little shy. "Take a bite."

Harry reached out to take the slice from her, but she, swept up in the moment, whispered, "Uh-uh," and instead held the fruit up towards his lips.

Her center burned as she watched the incubus, who she knew had turned dozens of girls into well-sexed piles of meat, slowly lean forward, his gaze averted meekly.

Gabrielle shivered as his lips closed around her fingers for the briefest of moments. Watching as he chewed the juicy flesh of the fruit slowly, she did her best not to squirm.

He seemed to enjoy it a lot, if not quite as much as she herself had.

Gabby licked the remaining nectar off of her own fingers, secretly thrilled with the knowledge that his lips had been on the digits just seconds ago.

"That's, uh, that's better than I was expecting," he admitted, opening his eyes to smile hesitantly at her. "Did you like it?"

"I loved it."

YOUR ALLURE! YOUR FUCKING ALLURE!

Gabrielle's veela allure was bearing down on the little boat with such force that the air itself was becoming visibly distorted.

Gabby's face morphed to one of horror. "Oh my God!" she cried out, clamping down on her offending magic so viciously it hurt. "Oh my God!" All of the good things she'd been feeling evaporated. Harry started calling her name with growing panic, but she couldn't hear him. All she could think about was how she'd lost control again. In front of HARRY no less. This was it. This was the end of her happiness with him. He'd realize she'd manipulated him and never trust his feeling towards her again. Good God…

"Gabby. Gabby!"

GET A FUCKING GRIP YOU DUMB ASS!

"Gabby!" he shouted, shaking her knee, and she couldn't help flinching back in the boat as she finally noticed him.

"Hey," he said, eyebrows drawn together in concern.

"I'm really so sorry 'Arry!" she said, leaning away from him, pale. His hand fell from her knee. "Really, I'm sorry. Can you row us back, please? To shore? I'm sorry."

"Wuh-why?" he asked, leaning back himself. "Is it 'cause of your allure? Really, Gabby, it didn't bother me-"

"Well not everything is about YOU, Harry!" she snapped in French, the beginnings of a transformation bleeding through with her panic.

What are you doing?

"Just row me back, okay? Please, I don't want to be out here anymore."

You're RUINING it- like you ruin EVERYTHING! What are you DOING?

"Yeah, sure. That's… that's fine."

Harry blinked and robotically gripped the oars. He dropped them after a second of not rowing, his head lowering towards the bottom of the boat.

Oh no.

"Just-" he choked out, and Gabby was horrified by the sound. He coughed and swallowed loudly. "Just, I mean, did I do something wrong?"

Oh my God look what you've done you stupid little- you've done it again. How could you mess even THIS up?

"B-because, y'know, I didn't meant to. Honest, I didn't know you guys don't like the water or I wouldn't've planned it like this. I just wanted to-"

No more!

"Stop," she said, tears pooling. "Please, stop. I am ze one who ees sorry, 'Arry."

He looked up at her with wet eyes.

Her heart lurched. She tried to open her mouth and explain. To explain how embarrassing it was, to lose control of her stupid fucking allure. To explain how dirty it made her feel. To explain how low it made her feel, proving all of the slanderous shadows that dotted her past just how right they'd been all along.

The memories it dredged up.

Mismatched eyes and smashed watermelon.

She wanted to tell him everything, but couldn't.

Sniffling and swiping at her eyes, Gabby injected some lightness in her voice. "Please," she said, offering a smile, "I'm not upset wiz you, 'Arry. Just row us een. Please."

Harry's look of hurt grew and grew until it sudden disappeared. A blank mask took its place, and he gripped the oars.

Filth. Say you hate it but rejection leads to rejection leads to rejection- which is what you're doing now. Do not be surprised if things turn out the same way they always do.

Gabby knew that the wretched, loathsome part of her spoke the truth, but still failed to find the words.

She sat with her head hung the rest of the way to shore, and could only watch as Harry retreated to the castle with beaten shoulders. The magical fruit he'd risked his life getting her remained behind, forgotten.

The water was just this side of too hot as it splashed against Harry's head and ran down his nakedness. He didn't bother adjusting it. He'd gotten rather filthy after stomping around in the Forbidden Forest all morning, and if a shower also meant that he could be alone and shed a couple frustrated tears, then all the more reason to take one. Over and over in his head he reviewed the last half hour: him and Gabby, meeting on the grounds, rowing out, sampling the fruit…

On the water- which she said she didn't like.

That was true. If he'd listened to her and gone somewhere else, would things have turned out differently? No, probably not. She'd been fine once they'd gotten out onto the water, and he was only lying to himself by thinking that the water was what had upset her.

Her allure. She lost control.

But who the hell cared? Seriously, he knew that she liked things the way she liked them, but was there really a need to flip out every time a veela let her allure do its thing?

You know that's not fair.

Sure. He knew. Gabby wasn't a run of the mill veela. She'd been teased and tormented for years now about her nature. He knew that, and could even relate a bit. He knew that the anger he was feeling wasn't totally justified. But still. Hadn't he communicated the fact that she could let her allure run as wild as it pleased whenever she was around him? He felt the way he did about her all on his own, and while he couldn't say he didn't notice when her allure was active, it hardly bothered him. It certainly didn't turn him into a pile of goo, and for fucks sake, hadn't he shown that?

Not everything is about you though, is it?

She'd said that. She'd actually said that to him. He knew it was a fair enough thing to say, but it still felt like a smack in the face to him. Did he act like that? He didn't think so. Hadn't he proven himself to be a decent human being after all this time? Hadn't he risked his damn life for other people enough times to earn at least that much?

But did you really do those things because you're such a swell fellow? Did you really? It seems more likely that you still believe what they taught you- that your life just isn't quite as worthwhile as everyone else's.

No. That wasn't true. He didn't believe that anymore.

Okay. Sure you don't. But even if that was true, you can still imagine how she's feeling.

He scrubbed his chest and belly with a sudsy rag. Yeah, fine. She didn't have a Ron or Hermione to lean on, and he knew that controlling her allure was a sensitive subject for her. Still… her reaction didn't check out. So what if her allure slipped out?

You just don't like the fact that she pushed you away. Everything really is about you. Why don't you go fuck a stranger and feel good, huh? That'll show her.

Harry stopped washing himself at the thought. He wasn't being fair to himself. He had to do what he had to do to survive, and feeling bad about it wasn't going to help one way or the other. He'd promised himself that he'd embrace his nature from the beginning.

To feel closer to mum? Hah, she didn't have to go through any of this. She was just a normal witch. You're alone in this, like always. And isn't it fucked up that you can feel upset at Gabby for being ashamed of her allure, but you get to keep your dirty little secret to yourself? You get to fuck schoolgirls every day and don't have to deal with a single criticism, but if she lets her allure flex even a little, everybody comes down on her for being a horrible fucking person. Fucking hypocrite in the flesh, that's what you are.

It's different though! Just logically, their situations weren't identical. Veela aren't even that uncommon. Nobody in the magic world freaks out when they bump into one. If he went public, though, there'd be no telling what might happen.

Of course. And so, like always, the rules don't apply to Harry Potter because he's special. He had a rough start to life so everything should be peaches and cream for him from now on to make up for it. That scar on your head is a fucking fast pass for life, ain't it, ol' boy? And now that you've got to shoulder the terrible burden of fucking the shit out of hundreds of hotties, you get to judge all Demi-Humans, because you know exactly what it's like for them, huh? Poor you, you even got a nice little blue helper to go along with your horrible curse. Don't think another fucking thought about Gabby until your personal business is out there for everyone to dig through, just like hers is.

Harry let the too-hot water wash over him, his jaw set. He was staring off into space, wrestling with his thoughts. Fuck it all, but he was right. As little as he wanted to admit it, at some point he'd started to assume that nobody could've had it worse than him. While admittedly, that tended to be true, this time it just didn't hold up. Gabby's experience with creature discrimination wasn't something he could completely understand. He'd been ostracized before, of course, but never for something that was true. He wasn't Slytherin's Heir and Sirius wasn't a murderer and he didn't deserve the shit his relatives dished out. Gabby really was a veela, and there were people who outspokenly hated her for it. He was just unfamiliar with the types of personal issues Gabby was dealing with.

But did that mean that he should be hanging from the fucking rafters and shouting out all of his secrets for the world to hear? Would that make anything better? It certainly didn't sit well with him- for a number of reasons. His incubus side didn't like it. For one, it would make his prey far too aware of his intentions before he could strike, needlessly complicating his system. His less instinctual side didn't like the idea either. He'd be put under a microscope almost instantly, he was sure. If not actually in the literal sense, then certainly in the public sense at least. He didn't want that.

So, if walking in Gabby's shoes is so horrible, you can at least admit that showing a bit of patience and grace isn't such an unreasonable thing to do.

Harry supposed it wasn't. As much as her rejection had hurt him, he was still deeply attracted to her. He'd had at least a dozen dreams about their shared kiss. She was perfect for him, even if she wasn't perfect. Plus, though he never really thought about it, Harry acknowledged that he was the elder of the two. He could afford to be supportive and take things slow, couldn't he? Yes, he could. He'd go and talk to her, and, as long as she didn't get too upset, he'd try and convince her that he would never judge her for who she was.

But not right now. His feeling were still hurt, and as much as he didn't want to admit it, part of him wanted to wait for her to apologize to him first. He was allowed to be upset too, wasn't he? Not to mention, he just didn't have the time. His instincts still called for satisfaction. If it helped him feel better, then that was just an unavoidable by-product of sex. A light sensation of guilt tugged at him.

Still, despite his conflicted thoughts, when Harry finally turned the steaming shower off, he felt refreshed in more ways than one. It wasn't as much as he though it could be, but some type of progress had surely been made. He took a step out of the shower, reached for a towel, and caught a paper airplane to the temple.

"The fuck?"

Still dripping wet, he seized the offending origami before it could hit the floor. Scowling down at it, Harry unfolded the plane and found it to be a letter. He read it once, quickly, and then two more times more carefully. His frown smoothed out and was replaced by an considering look.

Interesting. Very interesting.