Harry was in a bedroom. Not his room and not his bed, but someone had invited him here. So much had happened in such a short time. In the washroom adjacent to where he was, there was a girl singing. She was busy doing herself up, the sounds of cupboards opening and closing, heard the sink faucet running and the sound of her brushing her teeth. But her activities was the last thing on his mind.

As far as he was concerned, they were just there to review what should happen next as allies in their fight against Voldemort. The self-styled Dark Lord had made all sorts of plan to return but now with Harry’s blood, he was fully a being of the living world all over again. He didn’t know much about her, but he figured that her experience from outside Hogwarts could prove useful. Maybe she might know some tricks that he didn’t.

She had a deep voice, almost exotic sounding, the wizard grounds of Hogwarts were a far cry from regular British Muggle society, and yet her voice was so unlike any of them. He couldn’t understand a single word of the lyrics she was singing, a mix both of her accent and the language she was speaking in. But her voice was oddly melodious and he found himself being swept up in the rhythm of her serenades. Sitting in a chair and looking down on his notes and his thoughts jotted on the pages, all his worries went away, no matter how dire his reflections seemed to be. And deep down, a naughtier part of him was thinking how lucky he was to be here all alone with her.

Her song had suddenly stopped. He heard the door begin to crack open. Harry casually looked up, not really expecting anything. But seeing one of her pretty legs step out and then the other and then finally her, he forgot all about his troubles.

She was looking perfect. Her long silvery blonde hair was hanging loose down her shoulders, and the way she was looking at him, he knew what she had in mind. Only wearing a little tank top that bared her cleavage and her enticing midriff and a pair of little underwear shorts so racy that wretched Umbridge would turn into a dementor on the spot, this girl was a feast for the eyes. A girl like her was naturally alluring to males no matter what she went about in, but the way she was looking now she could stop hearts in their tracks.

Harry’s thoughts on his current predicaments had all but left him. His mood had slowly improved since he agreed to meet with her, he didn’t know what she wanted, but what he needed right now was a friend. He had crushed on her so hard since the Triwizard Tournament, and deep in the back of his mind coming here, he was hoping for something like this to happen even though he was telling himself something like that would never happen. Now that things were going his way, he just felt like an idiot for not being able to collect himself better.

He remembered she stood out here at Hogwarts for more than just her naturally bewitching allure. Like many visitors from out of Britain, her grasp on English was less than perfect. But she didn’t need to say anything for him to know what she was getting at.

Especially since Harry was so speechless. He was still staring at her all but slackjawed, still trying to find the words and stuttering despite himself, and it only got worse as she kept on looking at him with that classic girl next door smile. Her arms open up and holding the frames of the door, around her, she leaned forward, and then he just couldn’t speak altogether. Making matters worse was that he was popping a chub from under his journal, and he knew it was rising up with his boner peeking itself on up. He hoped she didn’t notice.

Not that it mattered because his journal accidentally fell off his lap. The room had been silent but the sound of his book falling to the floor was so loud it was like a booming crash. Finally, she fell over forward laughing.

Smooth Potter, real smooth. The voice of Snape in the back of his mind, the ever present professor had left a real bad impression on Harry ever since they first met. Things had evened out between them since then but there was still a marked tension. Enough for his voice to be the one taunting him now.

She was still laughing even then. As much as he was embarrassed, a pretty girl laughing was a treat any guy would be happy to see, and the way she was dressed, he couldn’t be mad at her. And her thick voice still cackling, it was an erotic noise any of the boys at Hogwarts would be more than happy to listen to.

Finally, he started laughing too. They were both laughing for awhile before she finally stopped and looked at him with those same wily eyes of hers. Before coming to Hogwarts, Harry Potter was just some kid very unknown to the rest of the world and very much ignorant of it’s ways. Now having come here, so much had changed, no longer a little boy.

And still, he felt like he was with a girl for the first time. Three years older than him and gorgeous enough to make devoted husbands look away from their wives, every boy his age had a hot older crush, best friend’s moms, hot teachers, even one who was raised with with his awful relatives the Dursley’s. But this one was just an upperclassmen, older but not too much older, your best friend’s hot mom was one thing but his hot older sister was another, and the way she was dressed now was making his hormones rage like crazy. Even as he knew it was her otherworldly ancestry that had his heart beating in his chest.

He had ideas of why she had invited him. But clearly they were all turning out to be dead wrong. All of his worries about the coming future had gone up in smoke.

Fleur said, “‘Ow about you join me?” as saucily as possible in her French accent.

Harry blushed, his face was burning up as hot as his penis was. “You mean alone together? I, uh...”

His fear was giving way just to the sight of her. That ethereal glow she had was enough to catch any guy’s attention, but her all but nude and those voluptuous breasts and long legs, she was like a shining goddess. He wanted to worship her but her beauty and his desire put together with his inexperience, he didn’t know how to do it.