He remembered Fleur Delacour.  Like every boy at Hogwarts, he'd wanked off to mental pictures of her.   She'd personified beauty.  Light had seemed to follow her and her smile was the sort that moved armies.  He and Blaise had fantasized at some length about what it would be like to have a Veela of their own, one who saved her smiles just for them.  And now he did, boyhood fantasy come to life, but it was Granger and she looked exactly like herself.  At least the buck teeth had disappeared.  Fate, he thought to himself, fate laughs at mortals foolish enough to ask for redemption.