While on the run from the Death Eaters, Harry and Hermione are waylaid by an interested third party.
1. Harry Potter had no idea what he was supposed to do with the Veela who had slipped into his tent, but he knew a few things that he'd like to try...
Warning: This scene incorporates settings from a relatively unpopular piece of fan fiction known as “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.” Timing of some of the events is approximate.
“Salvio Hexia... Protega Totalum... Repello Muggletum...” Hermione’s protective spells had become a most unwelcome ritual, as had Harry’s unpacking the tent.
Since their bungled raid on the Ministry of Magic in early September, and especially since Ron had stormed off at the end of that month, Harry and Hermione had been left with no company but each other, the Horcrux they carried, their none-too-large tent, and the burden of not knowing if there were any other anti-Voldemort forces operating. Their discussions on what to do next had gone in endless circles since visiting the site of Tom Riddle’s old orphanage in early October, without reaching any conclusions as to where any other horcruces could be. Hermione no longer complained about Harry’s visions from Voldemort, but the images of the thief that Harry saw were too disjointed to provide any actionable information.
To make things worse, the weather had gotten steadily worse, as it usually does during November. On the fourteenth, they saw a masked figure a long way off across a field in Somerset, where they had been about to bivouac, and they reluctantly concluded that they’d spent too much time in the south of England. The previous night had seen them camp on an island on a Scottish loch, and today they were trekking through the Border country.
“We’re about thirty miles west of Berwick,” Hermione noted as she sat down net to Harry outside the tent. “We’ve got a couple of days’ worth of supplies, so we’re not going to have to do any raiding this evening.”
For a few minutes, Harry just watched the sun set; it was barely after three PM, but days were very short that time of year. “Listen, Hermione,” he finally said, “Once we get out of this, I’m going to pay you back for all the money you’ve spent on food.”
“Harry, it’s my neck, too,” Hermione retorted shortly- it had been her turn to wear the Horcrux that day. “You don’t have to act noble all the time on my behalf.”
“I’m just saying that I’m sure I’ve got more money in Gringotts than you had in your bank,” Harry explained, getting up to enter the tent. “It’s just a matter of getting to it one way or...”
Hermione was just about to ask Harry why he’d trailed off when he turned to shush her. He carefully stepped out of the doorway so that Hermione could get in- and see the shaft of light coming from the tent’s bedroom. Their wards had failed, and they had at least one unsubtle intruder.
Both of them removed their shoes, and Hermione stashed her Horcrux in a pocket. They quickly scanned the other end of the tent, finding no one. At least the burglars were all in one place.
They quietly moved down the hall toward the bedroom, carefully avoiding the light coming from the open bedroom door. Harry whispered his plan to Hermione, such as it was.
“One... two...” Hermione whispered, before Harry strode into the doorway, covering Hermione.
“LEVICORPUS!” Harry screamed, pointing his wand at the figure between their beds, just as Hermione called out “PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!” Both looked around for more enemies.
Just then, they heard someone speak in a foreign language.
“What?” both said.
The female voice started again more slowly, but neither understood it.
Hermione, who was checking the well beside Harry’s bed, suddenly pulled up. “I think I recognized some of that, Harry!” Harry, who was circling outside their bound assailant, looked at her just as the words were spoken again.
“Je seul suis veni,” the cheerful voice said, coming from the bound person. “Je viens dans la paix. Il y avait personne d’autre ici.”
“She said that she came alone, she comes in peace, and no one else was here,” said Hermione. “Qui etes-vous?” she replied, as Harry looked at her more closely.
Their prisoner was now suspended from the ceiling, with her body immobilized below the neck. She was black-haired and impressively shaped, with a large, firm bosom, narrow waist, and long legs ending at about the height of Harry’s waist. She was wearing a white toga-like garment ending above the knee, and Harry had to resist the urge to look up her skirt. She was actually smiling, which Harry wasn’t sure he could manage while frozen and suspended.
When she saw Harry, her face really lit up, and she started speaking quickly. Since Harry knew no French, this did him little good.
“I don’t know what you’re saying,” Harry said loudly and slowly. “Je ne parle Francais. Do you speak English? Parle Anglais?” Harry remembered that much French from the visiting Veela of fourth year, if no more.
Both Hermione and their prisoner shook their heads.
“When she spoke to you, I got only a couple of words,” Hermione averred. “Come over here with me.”
After Harry did so, the prisoner started speaking again, rapidly. The next couple of minutes involved Hermione and the prisoner exchanging words while the former grew ever more frustrated. The prisoner gestured toward Harry and said a few more words, slowly.
“She wants you to come to her,” Hermione translated. Slowly, Harry did so. A few more words followed. “Let her down,” she continued, and Harry again complied.
“I’m going to unbind her, Harry. Be ready,” Hermione said, shakily.
As soon as Hermione released her spell, the woman turned toward Harry, pulled him into her arms, and before he could stop her, she kissed him.
The kiss was long and deep. When Harry open his mouth to object, her tongue found its way inside. Her hands quickly moved down his body to squeeze his buttocks, while he managed to stop his at her waist. After a couple of minutes, she pulled back.
“How was that?” she asked in a lightly-accented, flirtatious voice.
“So you do speak English,” Harry said.
Meanwhile, Hermione glared at them. For all her protestations over the years that she wasn’t Harry’s girlfriend, she didn’t want him in the arms of another woman, especially one whose figure was so much more impressive than her own.
“No,” the woman replied. Her smile had grown, if anything. “I have merely cast a translation spell upon you,” she told Harry as Hermione looked on in confusion. “Your partner would probably appreciate it if you extended it to her.”
“But- I mean, how did- Why?” Harry sputtered.
“The same way that I did,” she answered simply.
Slowly, Harry walked toward Hermione. “She says that I have to... kiss you like she kissed me,” he sputtered. “Is that alright?”
Privately, Hermione was overjoyed. ‘At last!’ she thought- but she didn’t know if he would want to be with her, especially compared with their curvaceous ‘guest.’ “Well, if that’s the only way that the spell will work...” she slowly conceded.
The longtime friends embraced each other loosely. Their kiss was not as long or as charged as Harry’s with their prisoner, but still longer than any they’d ever shared before. When it ended, both were blushing, their hands on each other’s waists.
“Did it work?” Harry asked the others.
“I think you make a very cute couple,” the woman cooed. Hermione blushed more brightly.
“I guess that answers that question,” Harry said.
“Now that we can all understand each other, let me give you my message. My name is Sabrina, and I have come as an emissary of the Veela,” she said in a more businesslike tone. “I have come to bring you to our queen so that she can assist you in your fight against the new British magical government.”
“But why us? Why now?” Harry and Hermione asked together.
“She has reserved the right to tell you herself,” Sabrina stated, smiling again. “It would be irresponsible for me to try to guess her reasons. What I can tell you is that your plight is very important to her, and she has authorized me to offer you anything that you may desire to come with me right away.”
Harry formed some interesting mental pictures when he heard the words ‘anything you may desire,’ but after a few seconds he knew he needed to focus.on the situation. When he looked at Hermione, he saw that she’d averted her eyes from him just as he had from her.
“If you can give us a few minutes to pack, we can go with you,” Harry said at last. “Can you guarantee our safety?”
“That is up to Her Majesty,” Sabrina quietly replied.
“Hermione, can you think of anything else we can do here?” Harry inquired.
“Not really,” Hermione conceded. “I don’t think we have a choice but to follow Sabrina.”
“Sabrina, you’ll need to come outside while we pack up the tent, if that’s not a problem,” Harry guided the taller woman outside while Hermione gathered their loose possessions to put in her bag.
Sabrina turned to Harry. “I should thank you for your actions while I was imprisoned.”
“I’m sorry that we had to-” Harry started, to be quelled by Sabrina’s finger on his lips.
“I had orders not to defend myself from your attacks, no matter what you did. Her Majesty made it very clear to me that your safety was of paramount importance.” Sabrina’s voice seemed lower than previously. “Your spells were very well-done, by the way.”
Just then, Hermione emerged. Harry quickly took down the tent, with skill derived from much practice.
“He is quite a remarkable young man, Miss Hermione. I hope that you and he give each other the respect that you deserve. Now, are you ready?” When both nodded, Sabrina continued, “Then please take hold of my belt while I perform the transportation spell. You may wish to use both hands.”
When both had a firm grip on the belt around her waist, Sabrina performed a brief dance, and the three vanished with a pop.
I have ideas for continuing this, if you care to see them. Now that I’ve finally written something again, I hope to start reviving my old stories as well.