Breaking the Girl (Ch. 1) (Patreon)

( Every character in this story is a legal adult over the age of 18 )

Breaking the Girl

Chapter 1

“I think something is wrong with Gabrielle,” Apolline said in French as she walked into the room. Fleur looked up from her fashion magazine and raised an eyebrow at her. 

“What are you talking about?” Fleur asked in confusion. 

“Have you noticed how she has never shown any interest in the opposite sex?” Apolline asked as she sat down next to Fleur. Fleur thought about it for a second and realized that she was right. 

“Yes, I have noticed. Maybe she’s into girls,” Fleur suggested, but Apolline shook her head. 

“She’s never shown any romantic interest in them either. It’s so strange,” Apolline said, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. 

“What’s the big deal? She seems happy enough. Besides, she’ll probably come around in time,” Fleur told her. 

“She seems content, not happy,” Apolline corrected her. “She spends all day in that greenhouse of hers. She never socializes with anyone. It’s not healthy.”

“I can talk to her, but I don’t think it will do any good,” Fleur said, tossing her magazine on the side table. Apolline shook her head. 

“It won’t. She’s in her own little world, and she has no interest in breaking free.”

Fleur sighed and replied, “There isn’t much we can do about it if she doesn’t want to change.”

“Maybe you can give her a little push,” Apolline said with a cheeky smile. 

“What do you mean?” Fleur asked. 

“The only person she has ever shown any romantic interest in was ‘Arry,” Apolline told her. 

Fleur remembered the crush she had had on Harry. Fleur used to tease her about it. “That was years ago, before ‘Arry and I started dating.”

“Yes, but it’s still something. I was hoping you could ask him to flirt with her a little bit. You know … get her to loosen up. Maybe that will start a fire in her,” Apolline suggested. 

Fleur rubbed her chin in thought. The idea wasn’t half bad. 

Breaking the Girl

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Harry muttered, dragging a hand through his hair as he followed Fleur up the gravel path. 

She giggled and slipped a hand beneath his arm to pull him closer. Fleur pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and wiped off the lipstick left behind. The morning was cool, and the scent of cut grass and peonies hung in the air. Fleur’s parents’ estate sprawled around them. It was quite the sight to see with its manicured hedges and elaborate flower beds leading up to the glass dome of Gabrielle’s greenhouse. They passed beneath a trellis woven thick with red roses and ducked under a swarm of bees hovering above the blooms. Fleur leaned into Harry and whispered conspiratorially, “She will be so surprised to see you ‘ere. I didn’t tell ‘er you were coming.”

Harry chuckled and shook his head. He could see the outline of Gabrielle, crouched over a workbench inside the greenhouse. Her silvery-blonde hair was pinned up in a messy knot. She wore a man’s button-down shirt over her own clothes, and the sleeves were rolled up past her elbows. Her hands were stained with dark soil. As they came closer, Gabrielle didn’t look up. She was focused on repotting a spindly orchid, her brow furrowed in concentration. Fleur held the door for Harry, ushering him in with a flourish, and the muggy air inside hit him like a wall.

Gabrielle glanced up, blinking in surprise at the pair of them. For a split second, her face was blank. Her eyes widened, and she grinned happily. “ ‘arry! What are you doing ‘ere?” Her voice was soft, but it carried easily in the thick, humid air. Harry suddenly felt awkward as he loomed in the doorway with Fleur hanging off his arm. It wasn’t every day that his girlfriend asked him to help seduce another woman. 

“I’m just here to see how you’re getting on,” Harry said, acting casual. “It’s been a while since I last saw you.”

“I’ve been busy,” Gabrielle replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear with a muddy knuckle. She regarded him with polite curiosity. She then looked to Fleur. “Is there something you needed?”

Fleur squeezed Harry’s arm. “We just wanted to say ‘ello, Gabrielle, and remind you not to work too ‘ard.”

Gabrielle shrugged. “I like keeping busy.” She turned back to her orchid and began packing moss around its roots.

Harry hesitated, unsure what role he was meant to play in Fleur’s plan. He glanced at Fleur, who nodded encouragingly. “You’re growing orchids?” he tried, stepping closer to the workbench.

Gabrielle shrugged again. “They’re difficult. I like the challenge.” She looked up at him with unreadable blue eyes. “Would you like to see?”

He nodded, and Gabrielle motioned him forward. She gently spread the orchid’s delicate roots for him to see. Harry watched, fascinated by her focus, but also suddenly aware of Fleur’s eyes on him, measuring his interactions.

He cleared his throat. “So, er, are you enjoying your summer?” His small talk needed some work.

Gabrielle glanced at Fleur before looking back at Harry. “It’s fine.” She wiped her hands on the hem of her shirt and regarded him with a faint, puzzled smile. “Thank you for asking.”

Next to him, Fleur’s grip on his arm was almost possessive, but her smile was bright. “ ‘arry was ‘oping you could show ‘im your collection, Gabrielle. You ‘ave so many rare plants. ‘e’s never seen anything like it.”

Gabrielle nodded, and, without another word, led them to the back of the greenhouse. She didn’t waste time with pleasantries. She set off down the narrow aisle, weaving between pots and trays with the familiarity of someone who spent most of her waking hours in this humid sanctuary. Harry and Fleur fell in behind her. Fleur clung to Harry’s arm, and the heat prickled their skin almost instantly. The further they moved from the entrance, the denser the foliage seemed to get. Leaves brushed against Harry’s shoulders and legs, and water droplets dampened the legs of his trousers. The air was thick with the scent of damp soil and fertilizer. Gabrielle walked with her head held high, not slowing or looking back.

They passed a row of tiny cacti, each one labeled in a neat, looping script. Beyond that stood a collection of creeping vines. Their tendrils twisted around copper wires Gabrielle had rigged above the workbenches. She stopped when she reached a waist-high table near the far wall. On the table sat an assortment of squat, vicious-looking plants. Their colors were lurid and strange.

“These are my carnivores,” Gabrielle announced. Her voice was quiet but filled with pride. She stepped aside so Fleur and Harry could get a better look. “Most of these are magical, though a few are Muggle. They are very rare. Most people cannot keep them alive.”

Harry stared at one with spiny jaws that were half-open. The plant turned to face him and lunged forward, snapping its jaws. A shimmering purple pitcher plant glistening with syrupy, neon orange nectar. He’d never seen anything like them outside textbooks. They didn’t have any of these in his Herbology class. “They look …dangerous,” he said, and Gabrielle smiled. She seemed pleased that he was taking an interest in her passion. She reached for a jar of dead flies on a shelf, pinched one delicately, and dropped it into a waiting pitcher plant. The plant gurgled, and the pitcher folded in on itself. It began pulsating grotesquely. 

Fleur shuddered, but Gabrielle only shrugged, her eyes alight. “That’s just ‘ow they are.” She looked at Harry with her beautiful blue eyes. “They ‘ave to be strong to survive.”

Harry nodded, feeling a strange kinship with the weird, elegant creatures. “You must spend a lot of time on them,” he said.

Gabrielle’s mouth twitched at the corners. It was a very cute gesture, Harry discovered. “They are very demanding.” She turned to her sister. “You could never do it, Fleur. It takes patience.”

Fleur wrinkled her nose, but she didn’t rise to the bait. She looked over at Harry. “Gabrielle is the only one I know who can keep a plant alive for more than a week,” she said, her tone teasing but affectionate.

“She must be a very loving person,” Harry teased. 

Gabrielle said nothing, but a faint flush crept up her neck. She fiddled with the leaves of a wriggling vine while meeting Harry’s eyes again. “Would you like to feed one?”

Harry nodded and stepped forward. Gabrielle offered the jar, her stained fingers brushing his as he took a dried fly. He reached for the nearest pitcher. This one was smaller than the last. Its outer layer was yellow with bright purple rosettes. It was a bright pink inside the pitcher. Harry looked at Gabrielle for confirmation. She nodded, and he dropped the fly into the bright pink opening.

He jumped a little as the pitcher shut, and Gabrielle snorted. Her very soft laugh made her sound almost normal. “You see? They are quick.” She seemed pleased with his reaction.

Harry grinned. “They are much faster than they look.”

Gabrielle nodded again. “Most people underestimate them.”

“Gabrielle, do you ever get bored out ‘ere all alone?” Fleur asked out of curiosity. 

Gabrielle tilted her head, considering the question. “No,” she said decisively. “There is always something to do.”

Fleur exchanged a glance with Harry and shrugged. “I suppose I am not surprised.”

Gabrielle ran a finger down the side of the pitcher plant. “They are better company than most people.”

Fleur gave a short laugh. “That is very sad, Gabrielle.”

Gabrielle didn’t answer, but Harry watched her, sensing there was more to it than she let on. She started to turn away, but Fleur reached out and touched her shoulder. “Wait. Show us your favorite one.”

Gabrielle hesitated before gesturing to a low, shallow pot at the very edge of the table. Inside it was a single, spidery plant with curling leaves covered in dew. The drops glimmered in the sunlight, and Harry realized the plant was covered with tiny gnat corpses.

“This one is called Drosera Regia,” Gabrielle explained. “It is a Muggle plant from South Africa. It is almost extinct. I ‘ad to write letters for months before someone would sell me a cutting.”

Harry leaned in close, careful not to touch. It looked like something out of a fantasy novel. “It’s beautiful,” he admitted, and Gabrielle’s whole body seemed to relax at that.

She looked up at him with a small, genuine smile. “Thank you.”

Fleur watched the exchange with raised eyebrows but said nothing. After a moment, she let her hand drop from Gabrielle’s shoulder and glanced at the door. “Well, I ‘ope you enjoyed the tour, ‘Arry.”

Harry nodded, but he kept his eyes on Gabrielle, who was already tending to her plants again. Her hands moved with practiced care. Fleur tugged his sleeve. “Come on, we’ll let ‘er get back to it.”

They retraced their steps through the greenhouse, and sweat prickled at the base of Harry’s neck. He glanced back once, catching Gabrielle watching them over the top of a pitcher plant, her expression unreadable. Harry smiled and waved. 

Outside, the air felt thin and cold by comparison. Fleur let out a dramatic sigh. “She is so strange sometimes, non?”

Harry shrugged, still thinking about the look in Gabrielle’s eyes as she fed the carnivores. “I think she’s just different. Not everyone needs the same things, you know.”

Fleur chuckled and shook her head. “Maybe you are right, ‘Arry. But I still think she needs to get out more.” She gave his arm a playful squeeze. “Speaking of, we should go for a walk before lunch. I want to show you the lake. You can work on Gabby more later.”

He smiled, letting himself be pulled along, but he couldn’t shake the image of the wild, predatory plants or the girl who loved them.

Breaking the Girl

After dinner, they found themselves in the sitting room, sprawled across the overstuffed couch. The fire was crackling merrily, and Fleur was curled up against Harry, using his lap as her personal throne. She toyed with his fingers and gently scraped her nails over his knuckles. They watched the flames dance in the grate, and Fleur giggled when Harry tickled her inner thigh.

Gabrielle entered quietly in bare feet and loose, faded shorts with a t-shirt knotted at her hip. She hesitated on the threshold, then padded over and perched at the far end of the sofa. She curled one leg underneath herself and stared at the flickering flames.

Fleur noticed immediately and warmly called out to her. “Come closer, Gabrielle. You look cold.”

Gabrielle rolled her eyes at the suggestion. “It’s a little chilly, but I’m not cold.” But she shifted closer anyway, stretching her feet toward the fire and sighing as she settled. Harry suspected she just liked being included, even if she would never admit it.

He watched the two girls interact, struck by their differences. Fleur was always charming and confident. Gabrielle was shyer, her gestures tentative, and she spoke just enough to get her point across. But even with all the differences, they were still strikingly similar in a lot of ways.

Harry reached for the tea on the low table, poured a cup, and offered it to Gabrielle. She accepted it gratefully, wrapping her cold hands around the mug. Her nails were stained purple and green at the cuticles. She sipped her tea and made a face.

“It’s very sweet,” she complained.

Fleur giggled. “That is ‘ow ‘e likes it. ‘Arry is a savage Englishman after all.”

Harry smirked and poked Fleur in the ribs. “It’s not so bad once you get used to it.”

Gabrielle took another sip and said nothing. She stared into the fire, her eyelids drooping. Harry caught the way she moved her neck, stretching it side to side, and he wondered if she was still sore from her hours in the greenhouse.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “You look tired.”

Gabrielle nodded. “My back ‘urts. I was working all day, cleaning the benches and lifting pots. It’s nothing.”

Fleur sat up with a catlike gleam in her eyes. “Oh, poor Gabrielle. You work too ‘ard.” She prodded Harry’s thigh with her foot. “ ‘Arry, you should make yourself useful and give ‘er a massage.”

This made Gabrielle jerk upright. “No, it’s fine. Really.”

Fleur ignored her. “ ‘e is very strong, aren’t you, ‘Arry?”

Harry was a little embarrassed by his girlfriend, but he scooted closer to Gabrielle anyway. It was hard to say no to Fleur when she was so insistent. “I could try, if you want,” he offered.

Gabrielle shifted uncomfortably but turned so her back faced him. She hugged a couch pillow to her chest and ducked her head, as if preparing for an ordeal. Fleur hopped off his lap and sat on his other side. Harry placed his hands softly on her shoulders and felt the tension bunching in her muscles. He pressed his thumbs in, moving tentatively at first. Gabrielle said nothing, but her shoulders dropped a little after a minute.

Fleur observed with a sly smile, her feet tucked beneath her. “See? ‘e is very good,” she said, as if advertising Harry’s services to the room.

Gabrielle made a noise that sounded somewhere between a sigh and a whimper as Harry added pressure and found a knot at her shoulder blade. He worked it gently, and then gradually deepened the pressure when she didn’t object. Gabrielle kept her gaze fixed on the fire, her blue eyes hooded. Her lips parted with a tiny, involuntary gasp as he dug his thumb in a little deeper.

“Too much?” he asked.

Gabrielle shook her head quickly. “No. It’s … good.”

Fleur’s smile widened. “Gabrielle never wants to admit when something feels nice.”

Harry tried to hide a grin, instead focusing on his task. He slid his hands up to her neck and kneaded carefully. Harry then slid his hands down her arms. Gabrielle’s skin was warm from the fire. She exhaled, and her eyelids fluttered in brief surrender. When Fleur caught his eye, she nodded in approval, as though Harry were a prize student.

“There,” he said, rolling his thumbs over her shoulder one last time. “Did that help?”

Gabrielle stretched her arms above her head and rotated her neck. “Yes. Thank you.” She seemed embarrassed by her own relief. She tugged at the hem of her shorts, trying to regain her composure.

However, Fleur wasn’t done. “You should do the lower back, too, ‘Arry. That is where all the muscles are.” She reached across Harry to demonstrate, her fingers pressing against the small of Gabrielle’s back. Gabrielle jumped, more from surprise than pain.

“I don’t think …” Gabrielle started, but Fleur cut her off. “It is not so scandalous, you silly girl. ‘Arry, be gentle with ‘er.”

Harry placed his hands on Gabrielle’s lower back, feeling the muscles tense under his touch. He worked her body carefully, not wanting to hurt her. His fingers glided along her soft, delicate skin. Gabrielle made no sound, but her breathing grew heavier. She pressed her face into the pillow, muffling a quiet moan as Harry rolled his palm over a particularly tight spot. Her slight shudder was visible even in the dancing firelight.

Fleur watched the whole scene with open amusement. “You like that, don’t you, Gabrielle?” she teased.

Gabrielle glared at her, and then at Harry, but the effect was ruined by the pink flush in her cheeks.

Fleur laughed, delighted by her embarrassment. “Poor thing. She pretends to be so tough.” She nudged Harry. “You can use more pressure. She is strong enough to take it.”

Harry did as she said, feeling a little more confident now. He kneaded the base of Gabrielle’s spine in slow, circular motions. She arched her back slightly, almost presenting herself to him. Fleur leaned closer, and her lips nearly grazed Harry’s ear.

“You can make ‘er melt, if you try,” Fleur whispered, loud enough for all three to hear.

Harry felt a rush of embarrassment and excitement at the suggestion. He slid his hands up and down Gabrielle’s back, caressing her silky, smooth skin. Gabrielle was trembling now, but she didn’t ask him to stop. Her breathing was quick, and her face was half-hidden behind the curtain of blonde hair. Harry’s hands traced the slope of her sides and the flare of her hips. He squeezed her hips lightly, and Gabrielle gasped. 

After a minute, Gabrielle sat up abruptly, brushing Harry’s hands away. “That’s enough,” she muttered. Her voice was a bit gravelly. She hugged her knees to her chest, fixed her eyes on the fire, and did not look at either of them. Harry could tell she was embarrassed. 

Fleur grinned triumphantly. “You see? I told you ‘e was good.”

Harry glanced uncertainly at Gabrielle. He then looked at Fleur. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do next. Fleur stretched her arms overhead. “Now I want one, too,” she declared, flopping back against the cushions.

Harry relented to her request. He pressed his hands to Fleur’s shoulders and began working her muscles. Fleur purred in pleasure and let her head loll.

Gabrielle stayed silent on the other end of the couch, but she glanced over at them a few times, her eyes lingering on Harry’s hands as they moved across Fleur’s collarbones. Harry pretended not to notice but was acutely aware of her attention. The air felt charged, and he could see her trying not to squirm.

When the room fell into a comfortable quiet, Fleur let out a drowsy sigh. “That is heaven,” she said. “I ‘ave never felt so relaxed.” She rolled onto her side and propped herself up on one elbow. “You are a good boyfriend, ‘Arry. Maybe too good.” Harry smiled kindly at her. 

Gabrielle glanced away, as if the moment was too intimate to witness. She stood, crossed her arms, and mumbled something about wanting to read before bed. She disappeared into the hallway, the backs of her thighs marked with faint red indentations from the sofa’s edge.

When she was gone, Fleur nudged Harry with her bare foot. “She likes you,” she said, matter-of-factly. “But she will never say it.”

Harry felt a strange thrill at the idea. “Really?”

Fleur nodded. “Of course. It is easy to see when you know ‘ow she is. She would never let another man touch ‘er like that. Not in a million years.” She traced a finger along his jawline. “You must be nice to ‘er, okay?”

Harry promised he would. They sat there until the fire died down, comfortable in the warm glow.

Later, when Harry slipped away to get a glass of water, he passed by Gabrielle’s room. Her door was cracked open. Inside, she sat at her desk, bent over a book. She was reading, but every so often, she would pause and touch her shoulder. He wondered if she couldn’t stop thinking about the massage. Harry lingered in the hallway for a moment, then continued on. He had a sexy Veela girlfriend waiting for him after all.