A/N: Really the first couple of chapters will most likely be heavy on smut. But I really do intend to work in some kind of plot, well developed or not. This will be my first attempt at a multi-chapter story, and my second story ever, so, here we go. No promises regarding quality, length, or completion ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Hermione opened the door and let herself into Shell Cottage. She had knocked and there had been no response, but there was no way she was going to return to the Burrow and tell Molly Weasley that she didn't see Fleur. The Weasley matriarch had sent Hermione to check on the veela. Fleur had become increasingly withdrawn after Bill's death, only meeting with Mrs. Weasley, and only when the red headed woman stopped by to drop off dinner or groceries for the week.

"Hermione, dear, if you could just drop by and check on her. I'm worried about her. Perhaps I was not always the biggest supporter of my son's relationship with Fleur, but she is family after all. Maybe she could use some 'girl time' with someone her age."

But Hermione wasn't a 'girls time' type of girl, and she did not know how to relate to the veela. She had never had much of a relationship with her, except for the time after her torture at the hands of one Bellatrix Lestrange. She never knew how to thank Fleur for tending to her, for healing her back to life. Fleur took care of her body, and also created an emotionally safe and warm place in the crowded cottage for Hermione to process what had happened to her. She had listened to Hermione, seen Hermione, handled her vulnerability with care and kept her secrets. That was years ago. But Molly Weasley wouldn't take 'no' for an answer, and Hermione really should find a way to give back to Fleur.

"Fleur?" The brunette called out. "It's me, Hermione. Are you home?" No response came from within the dark cottage. She was tempted to turn around and head back out when an image of a disappointed Molly Weasley conjured itself into her mind (hands on hips, shaking head, big sad eyes). She sighed. Onward.

And then there were noises coming from the second floor. Banging, thuds, and...crying?

Hermione unsheathed her wand and bounded up the stairs. Following the noises she ran down the hallway to the last bedroom where she promptly threw open the door and entered, prepared to fight. Hermione quickly scanned the room for danger. Some furniture was turned over, there were holes in the wall, a lamp was broken on the floor, and the vanity mirror was destroyed. But no one was in the room except for Fleur, on the ground, and… was she partially transformed? She was on her knees and seemed hunched over in pain.

"Fleur?" Hermione slipped her wand back into its holster as she slowly approached. "Fleur, are you ok? Are you hurt?" Fleur's hands looked battered. Hermione reached out to touch them when Fleur snapped her head up with a piercing gaze.

The veela's eyes, usually a light blue as clear as the sky, now took on a dark sapphire hue. There was no recognition in them. Along her high cheek bones was a delicate plumage of small white feathers that blended into her hairline. A few feathers appeared to be sprouted amongst the blonde's tresses. The same white feathers kissed upon her cheek bones were sprouted on the tops of her shoulders, with a few lined a small ways down the upper part of her arm. Her nails looked...dangerous. Hermione fought the urge to step back. Not in fear, but in surprise. She had never seen Fleur in any stage of transformation. What had caused this? And as changed as Fleur was, she was still stunning. Perhaps more so, thought Hermione. No, differently so. From an elegant beauty to a feral one.

Hermione pulled herself from that train of thought and knelt down in front of Fleur to check for injuries. "Talk to me, Fleur." Why would she be partially transformed? As she tried to recall everything she had read about veela, Hermione's hands began their assessment. Turning over Fleur's hands and forearms, she took out her wand and quietly cast several episkeys to heal the scrapes and bruising. She gently lifted Fleur's chin to look at her face, neck, chest. Oh. Fleur was in nothing but a set of black bra and panties. Why had Hermione not noticed this sooner? She hoped she was not embarrassing Fleur by studying her so.

"Please. Help me." A simple and quietly desperate request. Hermione almost didn't recognize Fleur's voice. The veela grabbed one of Hermione's hands and pressed it firmly to her chest, between her breasts.

"Tell me what's wrong. Who hurt you?" Veela transformed in battle, and when under extreme emotional duress...in times of danger... The texts from the limited passages on veela that she had read popped into her head. Who and where was the culprit?

Fleur grabbed Hermione's other hand and joined it with the first, before pressing both to cup her breasts. Hermione's neck and cheeks went scarlet as she let out a squeak. She felt as if her brain was short circuiting. She was suddenly pulled to her feet as Fleur stood up, hands still clenched onto her chest.

"I need you, Bill. It is the heat, I cannot control it! I need you," the words were jumping out of Fleur's mouth faster than Hermione could process them or Fleur's ensuing actions. She felt herself being pushed backwards, pushed onto a bed, and straddled by a hot and panting veela.

Oh, my God. Heat. Veela can also transform when in heat. Fleur's hands were raking over Hermione's body, trying to tear off the Gryffindor's clothes. Hermione was immobile, almost in a state of shock, but then Fleur ground her center down onto Hermione. Oh, Merlin. Hermione felt herself growing hard, an erection quickly forming.

"Fleur! Fleur wait! Oh, goddess." Hermione tried pressing against Fleur's shoulders to keep her away, but Fleur managed to lean in close enough to scrape her teeth against Hermione's neck. "Fleur, wait, please! I'm not Bill! Snap out of it! I'm not Bill!" Hermione searched Fleur's face, trying to catch her eyes. She grabbed the veela's wrists in an attempt to slow the groping and get her attention.

Fleur stilled, and Hermione saw it- some clarity flash across the blonde's face, an understanding. Fleur finally locked eyes with Hermione and Hermione again felt frozen in place. Fleur studied her, eyes darting around the brunette's face, down her body. Blonde hair fell forwarded and cascaded across Hermione's chest and shoulders as the veela leaned forward and tentatively pressed her face against the brunette's neck. Hermione's eyes fluttered closed as Fleur inhaled a deep breath through her nose, taking in the young witch's scent, and shuttered as Fleur's hot breath exhaled across her blushing skin.

Hermione couldn't breathe, she was breathless. Lungs refused to inflate, her heart seemed to slow to a halt, as she felt Fleur's hand travel down her torso, down down down until it cupped Hermione's hardening bulge. Was this really happening? Was Hermione going to be suffocated in arousal and confusion? Then she felt Fleur gently squeeze and move across the length of her member, evaluating her. Clear. That jump started Hermione's autonomic nervous system and she gasped, back arched, heart jumping into double time in apology for her near-death experience.

Fleur purred and growled. "Non, you are not Bill," the veela deduced, sitting up. "You are larger. You smell lighter. The heat your body is radiating is stronger." Fleur listed off the results of her examination, still straddling the brunette. Her eyes darkened, blue to black, avian. More feathers bristled around the edges of her visage, sprouted and wove more densely through her hair. Hermione's eyes followed the wave of plumage spreading down the length of her arms, covering the backs of her hands. Feral. Beautiful. "You are a more fit mate." Fleur began to rock her hips slowly. Hermione gulped. Willed her lungs to continue breathing, heart to continue pumping, blood to continue flowing. Brain to keep functioning. Synapses fired. This wasn't right.

"Fleur, I'm so sorry." Hermione attempted to sit up, but Fleur wouldn't budge. Her strong legs kept Hermione pinned, she pushed a hand against the brunette's sternum to keep her from progressing upwards. "I'm- I can't. I can't take advantage of you like this. I- I-" Hermione was only human. She was determined to follow her conscience's lead, but her body was screaming at her to stop resisting. She had a goddess on top of her, half naked, warm center pressed against her, and those movements, the rocking against Hermione's erection. It was too much. Time slowed. She felt faint. Was this how it would happen? Was Hermione going to drown in her own lust and Fleur's beauty? Another feeble attempt at moving, resisting: "We shouldn't-"

Hermione was cut off by a threatening growl. Fleur grabbed both of her wrists and held them between their bodies. "Stay." A simple and quietly commanding demand. "Please," her voice and grip softened. "You are Hermione Granger." She released the witch and planted her hands on the mattress by Hermione's shoulders as she leaned down. Hermione didn't know what to do with her own hands. She decided to keep them between her body and Fleur's, try to keep some space, some decency. The Fleur she knew had never, would never, throw herself at the witch this way. Hot spikes of heat coursed through her body, accumulating in her gut and then lower as Fleur brought her face into Hermione's neck. She nuzzled, sniffed, long lick, then firmly encircled the Gryffindor with her strong arms.

"Oh, fuck" Hermione moaned. Her hands were trapped between them, unintentionally pressed against the blonde's breasts. There was no space between their bodies, and Fleur's small rocking movements were erotic. Dizzying. Hermione's dick was so hard it almost hurt. Her eyes rolled back. Perhaps I will meet my end in a seizure. How to stop this? How to be an honorable and decent woman? "Fleur," she managed out. "You don't know what you're doing."

"I do. Stay. You are perfect. Please, you are the perfect mate for me." Fleur practically purred out the last part. She then proceeded to unbutton and unzip Hermione's pants and start to tug them down, somehow managing them to Hermione's upper thighs.

"W-what?" What the hell was Fleur talking about? Hermione tried to block the veela's determined hands, but to no avail. Her member was freed and was currently being pressed to Fleur's heat with only undergarments as barriers. It felt so….oh, goddess.

"You are the brightest witch of her age," Fleur lifted herself up enough to look into Hermione's eyes, raised her hand and extended one long finger with a long talon-like nail. "You have demonstrated great courage," she lowered the nail to the collar of Hermione's shirt, then slowly dragged it down, cutting the shirt open, leaving an angry red line on skin in its wake. "Attractive," she pulled the shirt open, leaned down and pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to the top of Hermione's breasts. "And very powerful," she concluded her argument by once again reaching down and firmly grasping Hermione's cock.

Hermione was losing her grip on reason. All the reasons she should stop this from happening, all the logic and decency she had were quickly receding to the back of her mind. She began to move her hips to gain more friction against Fleur's hand. She whimpered. Why did the simple touch and feel of Fleur set her on fire almost more than going further with any other woman she had been intimate with? "We can't," she whispered unconvincingly as she jutted her hips forward again. Fleur removed her hand and pressed her wet covered center against Hermione's length.

"We can." Fleur reached back and removed her bra, letting it fall away and bearing herself to the brunette. "I am veela. Powerful. Beautiful. Next in line to rule." She grabbed Hermione's wrist just as before, and drew her hands to her naked breasts. "I need a mate like you, who can match me." When Fleur let go of Hermione's wrists, the Gryffindor did not let her hands fall. She reveled in the feel of the weight and softness of the blonde's breasts. Closed her eyes when she felt the hardened nipples against her palms. "Imagine our babies."

That sobered Hermione up. Her eyes shot open and she quickly sat up, taking the veela off guard. She turned enough to slide Fleur off of her and she jumped off the bed, pulling her ripped shirt together for modesty. As she tried to move toward the door, create some distance, space, access air. She nearly tripped over herself, forgetting that her pants had been drawn part way down her thighs. She was a disheveled mess. She heard Fleur growl behind her as she tried to stuff her erection back into her pants while re-dressing. She had only a few more steps to the door when she felt it. It was so much. Time slowed. She felt both light and heavy at once.

Her body was overcome, her mind was clouded, by something...something...that felt so good. So deliciously good. She felt at peace, but still in need of something. Someone. Turn around. She obeyed. A pleasant warmth spread through her, traveling up and down her spine. When she faced Fleur, the blonde was sitting on the edge of the bed watching her, and everything else seemed to fade away. Her peripheral vision became hazy; Fleur came into sharp focus. So beautiful. Hermione felt the warmth buzzing and pulsing through her body pool into her chest and gut, travel down until it stopped. Hermione was painfully aware that the sweet and fiery sensation would indeed not flow into her cock. She whimpered and slipped both hands into her pants, grabbing hold of herself to try and relieve the ache of not enough. Take your pants off. Again, Hermione obeyed.

Another wave swept through her body, before it disappeared. Her mind cleared. She was standing with her pants around her ankles, shirt hanging open, and hands wrapped around her dick, mere feet away from Fleur Delacour.

"What the fuck?" A rhetorical question to no one in particular. Hermione released herself.

"Take off my panties," Fleur directed. Hermione took a step forward, and then hesitated. After a moment she was overcome by those same sensations. The pleasure and comfort building in her body was almost incomprehensible to her senses. The only thing she was sure of was Fleur, and doing whatever the veela asked of her. Anything she could do to please her. Anything if she could have her way with her. Anything. Anything. She walked to Fleur, hands reached forward, fingers slipped just under the hem of black panties. And then the sensation was gone.

Hermione looked from where the tips of her fingers disappeared beneath the edge of cloth, to Fleur's midnight black eyes. Her heart was beating wildly. Her hands were shaking. How she wanted to turn her brain off and just let her body give in. She couldn't help herself. She curled her fingers and began to slowly drag the underwear down. Fleur's hips lifted enough for Hermione to continue her task. Hermione's eyes lingered on every inch of skin the panties traveled down, over muscular thighs, unscathed knees, shapely calves, small ankles, and delicate feet. She was aching with so much want, so much of not enough. But, but, but...

"I want you. I do. I want you so badly. But you're in heat. This isn't right. You would never-"

Fleur let her knees drop open, revealing herself entirely to the brunette. She edged herself forward just enough so that she was barely still on the bed. Fleur was propped up with her hands pressed into the mattress at either side of her hips. Open, waiting, ready. Hermione's jaw dropped. Fleur Delacour was naked, feral, in want, in need, and open in front of her, offering herself. Beautiful. Ethereal. Seductive. Hermione's prick throbbed.

"Please," Fleur breathed out. "I consent. Do you want me to beg? I will beg for you." The veela moved one hand to her pussy and dipped a finger inside herself with ease. She was dripping. "I need to be filled. I need you, this is not enough." Hermione watched Fleur's finger tip, hypnotised, as it reappeared, and disappeared, and reappeared, and disappeared again from Fleur's center. "Please, it hurts. I need to feel your large cock inside me. Help me, Hermione." Fleur's finger withdrew, glistening and traveled through her folds before she placed her hand back onto the mattress. "I need you. I need you."

Hermione was only human. A human with an intense desire and in intense pain with that desire being so close to being met. She stepped forward and between the open legs. Fleur banished Hermione's undergarments with a flick of her wrist. Hermione's hands went to the insteps of Fleur's delicate feet, traveled over her small ankles, past her shapely calves, and grazed over her knees, inner thighs, and stopped to frame the veela's cunt. She heard Fleur purring her approval, watched the swell of her breasts moving up and down in anticipation. Hermione grabbed her shaft and lined up the tip of her dick to Fleur's entrance.

"Two conditions," the last of Hermione's brain cells were buzzing around trying to make a last ditch effort at reason.

"Anything," the response was immediate and breathless.

"Don't do that again." Hermione didn't know how to describe it, but Fleur seemed to understand.

"I promise I won't. I will do anything you say. I won't use my thrall again, I promise you. Please. Please take me. Take me, Hermione." Fleur was whimpering and reaching for Hermione's cock. She began to stroke it, trying to coax it into her. Hermione clenched her eyes shut and forced down a moan, steeling herself.

"And..and..contraception?" Fleur growled in protest. Hermione made to step away but Fleur reached out and grabbed her shoulder. She then waved her free hand in the air, performing some intricate movements with her fingers before touching her lower abdomen.

"It is done," and that was all Hermione had left in her. She took a breath and pushed herself inside.

The blonde let out a guttural moan and Hermione's knees buckled at the feel of being inside Fleur. Her body fell forward into Fleur's and she planted her hands on the bed to catch and steady herself. Fleur's arms looped under Hermione's and her sharp nails set against the Gryffindor's skin, threatening pain in exchange for pleasure. If being still and only halfway inside of the blonde felt this good, the pain would be worth it. Hermione shifted her hips back slightly, and then pushed in further than she had the first time. Jesus. Merlin. Goddess. Fleur was, Fleur was….everything. Hermione's brain was turning on and off, and on and off. Her hips kept moving, her hardened member slowly appearing, disappearing, reappearing, disappearing, again and again inside of the veela. Slowly, taking in every moment. She felt Fleur's nails gently glide up her back, up her neck, and into her hair, caressing her scalp. Felt Fleur's legs wrap around her, pressing on her back to pull Hermione in deeper each time she thrust forward.

The noises were like music. Fleur and Hermione whimpering and almost crying in relief. Aches being mercifully sated. Hermione's legs were trembling. She was no virgin, but she never felt anything like this before. Was this part of the veela magic? Magic fucking pussy? Oh no. It felt like they had only just begun, but the warmth and the tightness and something ineffable about the way Fleur's walls were squeezing and almost caressing Hermione's dick was just so wonderfully unbearable. It was going to end too soon, too quickly, she wanted to stop but her body wouldn't let her.

"Shit. Shit, Fleur, I'm sorry. I can't..." Hermione made some very undignified sounds as she came undone and released herself into Fleur. The veela pulled Hermione in impossibly closer, deeper, until Hermione was completely drained. Hermione collapsed bonelessly onto Fleur, pushing them both back onto the bed.

"Fleur, I'm so sorry. I've never come that quickly before." Hermione was flushed from pleasure and outright mortification at her lack of endurance. Fleur hushed Hermione and continued to run her fingers through the brown locks.

"Do not be embarrassed, ma petite lionne," Fleur purred into Hermione's ear. "It is your first time with a veela. It is to be expected. But we have all night, non?" Fleur chuckled when Hermione perked up at that. Would Hermione continue all night? Of course, she had already given in. Already been inside Fleur. She was certain this opportunity would never come again. Best to take advantage of the night ahead. There was no way she could say 'no' anymore to the woman underneath her.