"Smile" || 301 Words || Fleurmione @sapphicmicrofics One week after the Beauxbatons contingent had arrived at Hogwarts, Fleur had woken to find a singular bird singing at her bedroom window. Fleur should’ve been insulted.
It was no great secret amongst the denizens and visitors of Hogwarts that Fleur Delacour was a Veela, even as diluted as her blood was. The French witch descended from a proud race of apex predators that utilized their beauty and their talons in equal measures. But there were those who would mock these non-human beings, some even went as far as to liken them to ‘pretty little birds.’
It was as condescending as it was disgusting.
And oh so frequent.
And in spite of her status as Champion of her school, the first week had been chock full of idiotic avian themed pick up lines.
Fleur was so tempted to peck out the eyes of the next person who tried their hands at ‘hey baby, your nest or mine?’ — her subsequent arrest would’ve been worth it, if only because she had been on theme.
And then someone had gone as far as to bother her in the sanctity of her own room. And Fleur knew that it was the work of someone else, because she could recognize a magical construct.
So Fleur had every right to be angry.
But she wasn’t.
Because there was no note, no pickup line to be delivered, and the conjured black and yellow bird — so out of place as it was in the Scottish Highlands — didn’t cross the boundary of her window.
Instead, it just sang.
It was so bright and cheery, like a miniature embodiment of spring that existed solely to perform the perfect backdrop to a season that was still months down the line. For the first time since her arrival for this tournament, Fleur smiled.
