Fleur knew that if her preferences got out, there would be more than a few angry letter, surely from mostly upperclass pureblood from Slytherin, especially if her heritage got out as well, but she was sure that Dumbledore would ignore them.
"Non, non, you deserve a glass or five." Fleur said, against her better judgment grinning slightly as her eyes followed Tracey drinking.
When Tracey drew closer, Fleur inhaled her scent...it was so familiar...no. It was Lavender's scent but why was it so naturally on Tracey? Reasons aside, she knew that her Veela would identify the scent and think Tracey as Lavender. That's why she was so aroused...
Gasping when Tracey's fingers touched her, her voice was still calm. Fleur was a Delacour, and Delacour's didn't loose their cool. "And what do you zhink you are doing, Madamoiselle Davis?" she asked, not stopping her. In her Veela's mind, Tracey was Lavender and she craved her...