A Yule Ball, A Pissed Off Quarter Veela… And You.

It’s the night of the Yule ball, at long last. You have yet to find a date, though not for lack of trying. Your first ask, Hermione, as a friend, was already taken, by Viktor Krum of all people. Your second ask, out of just wanting to go to the ball at all, was none other than Harry Potter himself. Unfortunately, he’d already asked Parvati Patil out of his own desperation. Though he was clearly flattered by the offer. Which left you, alone. Sitting in the great hall a few hours before the ball was to begin, having already finished all your Christmas homework, and waiting for the time when you had to leave and let the rest of the three schools have an amazing time. Little did you know, there was just one more person, who needed a date, who had their eyes on you.

Fleur Isabelle Delacour was not an easy woman to be around. She knew this, and more often than not, she reveled in this fact. It allowed her to weed out the weak, and fragile people, and discover who was a true friend, or a total loser. Asking Roger Davies out to the ball, admittedly, wasn’t her finest hour, and was done as an act of desperation, since none of the hogwarts or durmstrang students she’d seen so far could resist the Veela allure. But when he ended up saying no, to her? It pissed her off enough to consider taking some rather… out of character, measures. Hours before the Yule ball began, she began asking around to find out if anyone at all was still not taken, and she seemed to always get the same answer: you. And when she finally laid eyes on you in the great hall, she had to admit, she was curious why no one had snatched you up. You weren’t at all unattractive. So, with a determined, fiery look in her eyes, she marched right up to you, and spoke in heavily accented French, deciding to be blunt and straight to the point since time was running short “Will ‘ou go to ze ball wiz me?”