Fleur stood two steps behind William as he brought her to Fred and George. She dimly heard William telling Fred and George that he was going to spend some time with Ron and his girlfirends (sex-slaves) that as a thanks for some kind of help, they could have Fleur for the night.


Well, at least the twins probably wouldn't Crucio her while they were inside her, as Malfoy and Zabini liked to do. She'd been lent to them the week before.

William shoved her inside the twins' apartment and left, closing the door behind them. Fleur stood just inside the doorway, head held high.

Fred and George seemed to be having a silent conversation. After a moment, they both stood. "C'mon," one of them said.

Fleur followed them both to what she presumed was the bedroom. She was walking behind her 'masters' for the evening – that was new. Usually, she had to walk in front of them.

They entered a modest bedroom with two beds. It didn't surprise Fleur all that much that they both slept in one bedroom. One of the twins silently started to change the sheets on the far bed and placed some of his clothes on it. Within a few seconds, he was finished.

"There's the bathroom," the other twin pointed to a door. "You can have that bed. Get some sleep. Let us know if you need anything."

When she woke up the next morning, having slept in one of the twins' shirts, she was greeted to the sight of Fred and George lying next to each other in one bed. They hadn't touched her all night.

She hadn't had any nightmares. Instead, she'd dreamed about a green-eyed knight who'd save them all from Flight-from-death's reign.

She'd given up those hopes a long time ago, though, the last remnants of them disappearing when Gabrielle was murdered during the Siege of Beauxbatons. She, herself, had been captured and given to William Weasley, one of the Dark Lord's chief ward breakers and the man in charge of the destructrion of their wards.

And yet..

If there was still some good in the world – when twenty-year-old boys could be given full control over a Veela but not touch her – then, perhaps, there still was some hope left.