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Percy narrowed his eyes playfully. "Don't call me that," he repeated, trying to sound serious but failing.
"And w'y not?" Fleur challenged, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief as she leaned closer.
"Because," Percy explained, letting a smirk spread across his face, "every time you do, I remember Annabeth. Who, I'll remind you, was my very first crush." He finished, pretty proud of that comeback.
Fleur didn't even blink. She just shrugged, a graceful little movement of her shoulders. "T'en from now on," she said, her voice smooth and confident, "you'll just remember me instead when I call you t'at."
'Oh, so that's how you want to play it, huh?' Percy thought, a wide grin spreading across his own face now. He loved this. "Fine by me," he said, leaning in a bit. "Just don't get too angry when I accidentally call you her name when we're making out later."
The Veela stiffened almost instantly. Her eyes, which had been playful, suddenly sharpened. Percy felt a little jolt of fear.
Uh oh. Maybe he had gone too far with that one.
She turned to face him fully, her eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. The demigod gulped audibly. "Oh really?" she purred, her voice low and a little bit dangerous. "We'll zee about t'at, Perzy."
Before his eyebrows could even go all the way up in surprise, before he could even manage a "What do you-", Fleur threw herself on him. She moved like lightning.
Her lips crashed onto his in a fierce, demanding kiss, a total lip lock that stole his breath. Percy was pushed backward, landing with a soft thud on the mossy floor of his secret room as she climbed right on top of him.
Her legs straddled his chest, pinning him down, while one of her hands tangled in his dark hair, holding his head still. The other hand pressed against his shoulder.
Percy's own hands, a bit surprised but definitely not complaining, found their way to her slim hips, holding her steady.
After a long, breathless moment, she broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to look down into his wide eyes. Her own eyes were blazing, full of a fiery determination.
"I promize you, Perzy Jackzon," she whispered, her voice husky, "you won't ever confuze my touch, my kizzes, for anyone elze'z. Ever."
Percy just grinned up at her, his heart pounding. Yeah, he could completely, absolutely believe that.
….
That evening:
Percy and Fleur spent the whole rest of the day together in that secret room. They were too busy with each other talking, laughing, kissing, just being close to care much about what was happening in the rest of the castle, or the world outside.
So when they finally did notice the light fading through the skylight, it was already dark outside. The day had slipped away from them.
They still had some time to spare, though. Dinner wouldn't be served in the Great Hall for another hour or so. Fleur was honestly dreading going back down there tonight. She really didn't want to face her Headmistress's disappointed gaze.
Even for the French, who were maybe a bit more relaxed about these things, there were probably limits on how much unsupervised time you could spend alone with your new boyfriend, especially after causing such a scene in the morning.
But even more than that, she also really didn't want to face all the Hogwarts students again, with their stares and whispers.
At least, not without letting them know, in a very clear way, that testing their patience again would be a very big mistake. She wanted to send a message.
Percy suggested a prank, something to lighten the mood and get a bit of revenge. But it was actually Fleur who came up with the brilliant, if slightly wicked, idea. And when Percy heard what it was, he swore she was truly evil incarnate, in the best possible way. He loved it.
So, Percy carried Fleur (bridal style again, because why not?) as they flew silently down from the hidden room's window, landing soft as a feather outside Hagrid's little wooden hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Under the cover of the deepening twilight, they snuck into the spooky, dark woods.
It didn't take long for Percy, with his demigod senses, to find a small herd of Hippogriffs munching quietly in a clearing.
While Percy kept an eye on the proud, easily offended creatures, Fleur quickly conjured a sturdy cloth bag and, with a flick of her wand, summoned a good-sized scoop of fresh Hippogriff droppings right into it. Gross, but necessary for the plan.
Levitating the smelly bag at a very safe arm's length, the couple then flew back towards the castle. This time, they were hidden under one of Fleur's excellent invisibility charms, making them shimmer and disappear like heat haze. They snuck into the bustling Hogwarts kitchens through a secret side door Percy knew.
It took some careful convincing, and a bit of Percy's smoothest talking, but he managed to bribe one of the Hogwarts house-elves into helping them.
The plan was to bake the Hippogriff droppings into a special pie, mixed with lots of dark chocolate, strong coffee, and other rich spices to completely hide the… unique… flavor and smell.
The little house-elf, whose name was Dobby Percy learned later, was very reluctant at first, his big, green eyes wide with worry.
But after Percy quietly explained who the pie was for and why they were doing it, the elf's whole attitude changed.
He became all the more happy, even eager, to help. Apparently, Dobby had a bit of a grudge, a very big grudge, against Draco Malfoy.
Just one mention of the snotty blonde prat's name and the elf did a complete 180, nodding his head so hard his ears flapped.
Percy made a mental note to get the helpful elf something really nice as a reward later. Maybe a new, clean sock, or even a whole pair. The elf was wearing a lot of mismatched ones, all different colors and sizes.
With everything set, the special pie baked to a deceptive, delicious-smelling perfection, Percy and Fleur finally entered the Great Hall for dinner.
As they walked in, hand in hand, almost everyone turned and looked at them. The hall went quiet for a moment.
Percy met the stares head-on, glaring back at anyone who he thought didn't mean them well, his expression daring them to say something.
Fleur held her nose high up in the air, her usual proud, almost regal attitude serving as her shield. She looked like she owned the place.
"Fleur," a deep voice called from the High Table. Madam Maxime, her giant headmistress, got up from her seat and walked down the steps to greet her student.
Fleur sighed softly but didn't flinch. She bowed her head respectfully. "I am zorry, Madam Maxime," she said, her voice clear and steady.
"I could not stand to face everyone after what 'ad 'appened this morning. I am willing to face any punishment you 'ave for me." Percy raised an eyebrow, ready to speak up and defend her, but one quick, warning look from Fleur told him she had this handled, she didn't need his help on this one.
The gigantic woman's stern face softened surprisingly. "Oh, Fleur, my dear," she said, her voice much gentler. "You are zo brave, always acting zo strong. Usually, it would be none of my business who a student of mine chooses to spend her time with. But since it is you, and because of your… special nature… I only wish that-"
"My Veela allure does not affect Perzy, Madam," Fleur spoke clearly, interrupting her headmistress politely but firmly. "He is… immune. It is zomething I did not realize was even possible until recently."
The headmistress looked genuinely surprised, her eyes widening as she turned from Fleur to look at Percy with new interest. "What? Immune?"
"Yeah, it's kind of complicated," Percy replied with a casual shrug, trying to sound modest. "My dad was apparently pretty good with mind magic, and it sort of just… transferred over to me, I guess." A simple lie, but believable enough.
"That is amazing," the tall woman exclaimed, looking impressed. "Very well, then. We will talk more about this later, Fleur, in private. For now, please, enjoy your dinner." She then leaned in a little closer, a small smirk playing on her lips as she reached out and gently buttoned the very top button of Fleur's silk blouse.
"Oh, and you may want to cover these up a little better, ma chérie," she whispered conspiratorially. "The 'ickies are quite… fresh."
Fleur's face instantly flushed a brilliant, beautiful red. "T-thank you, Madam," she stammered, mortified.
She turned around to see Percy sniggering quietly behind his hand and promptly slapped him lightly on the shoulder, her blush deepening.
Her neck, despite her best efforts with concealment charms earlier, was indeed covered in faint, purplish hickeys once more. And once more, her charms had failed to be fully effective against Percy's enthusiastic… attention.
They walked over to the Hufflepuff table, where their friends all welcomed them with warm smiles and knowing looks.
They were very polite and didn't pry too much into what Percy and Fleur had been doing all day.
Anyone with half a brain could have probably figured that out anyway. They also, very wisely, didn't mention the day's newspaper article at all. It was definitely not a good idea to bring that up again.
As the dinner went on, through the main course and into the side dishes, Percy and Fleur kept glancing over at the Slytherin table, their eyes specifically on Malfoy and his two goons, Crabbe and Goyle.
Most people probably thought it was because they were still super pissed at the blonde fourth-year for his nasty comments that morning.
But only Percy and Fleur, and one very helpful house-elf, knew the real, delicious reason for their frequent looks.
During dessert, when the tables were laden with cakes, puddings, and pies, they made their move. Percy discreetly took out the special, chocolate-and-hippogriff-dropping pie they had prepared, carefully wrapped in a napkin.
While Percy created a small distraction by "accidentally" knocking over a jug of pumpkin juice near their end of the table, Fleur, quick as a flash, used a silent switching spell.
The normal treacle tart in front of Draco Malfoy was instantly replaced with their… special creation.
Just as they were about to relax, a younger Slytherin boy, maybe a first or second year, sitting near Malfoy reached out a small hand to take a piece of the tempting-looking chocolate pie.
Percy and Fleur froze, their eyes wide with panic.
They were about to try and switch the pie back, their whole plan about to fail, when Draco interfered. He smacked the little kid's hand away with a sneer and grabbed the entire pie for himself. "Get your own, squirt!" he snapped.
Phew. Crisis averted.
Draco then had his two hulking henchmen, Crabbe and Goyle, cut out three huge pieces of the pie for themselves, leaving only a small portion of the rest.
Seeing their chance, while Malfoy was busy bossing his cronies around, Fleur and Percy, with another subtle flick of Fleur's wand, switched the remaining pies once more.
The small bit of good pie was replaced with the rest of the normal treacle tart. This action did draw the attention of a few curious people nearby, who saw the pies shimmer for a second, though not enough to alarm them or reveal the true nature of the plan.
Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle ate their large slices of the special pie with gusto, their mouths full, smiling with satisfaction as they relished the strange, rich, earthy flavor.
"This is surprisingly good, Draco!" Crabbe mumbled through a mouthful. When they were done, they immediately went for another slice from the pie dish, only to be disappointed to find it was a different make, a plain old treacle tart again. They grumbled but ate it anyway.
Percy caught Fleur's eye and nodded subtly. Showtime. They got up from the Hufflepuff table and slowly, deliberately, walked over to the Slytherin table.
The entire Great Hall seemed to follow them with their eyes. Conversations came to a halt once more.
A hush fell over the room. The two champions stopped right in front of Draco and his cronies, looking down at them with unreadable expressions.
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If you want to read ahead by 20+ chapters you could take a visit on my patreon Or check it out.
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