FicWad

FULL SUMMARY:
Harry, still coming to terms with the reality of his destiny, and only just beginning to understand his greatest foe finds himself the unintended recipient of a magical bond between himself and one Gabrielle Delacour.

An epic AU story beginning in the middle of sixth year, follows harry as one dramatic event leads him down a spiral path of debauchery, as Gabrielle acts as a catalyst of sorts, changing the flow of events, and causing Harry and his friends to discover knowledge about magic they could never have anticipated, and perhaps something that will change the course of history forever.

Warnings:
Harry/Harem
Deep story and plot line mixed with explicit content.

Disclaimer 1:
The works herein are owned, copyrighted, and trade marked by J. K. Rowling, Warner, Bloomsbury, and Scholastic (and affiliates). No intent of copyright infringement is intended here, this work cannot be sold; and accounting for power usage, computer ware and tare, and time expenditure this work in fact represents a deficit in funds. God help me on how I spend my time.


Disclaimer 2:
The works herein are for adults only. If adult situations in literature are not to your liking, against the law in your area, or against the law for you to view based on your age based on your area stop reading and go study and be a doctor or something.

Harry Potter and the Emerald Coven

PART ONE: The Allure of Veela

Chapter 1: Unbidden Dreams


Harry awoke in a dreary fashion. It was a Saturday and all he had to look foreword to was a day of study with Hermione in the library. It had been only a week since Ron had started dating Lavender, and was rightly spending all of his free time with the rambunctious girl. In the meantime having only Hermione for company his time was filled with quiet conversation and learning, which while enjoyable did start to drag with out the counter balance of Ron’s innate ability to create shenanigans, not of the life threatening kind that Harry seemed to attract, but Ron could always be counted upon to quickly put a pick up quidditch game together, or a snowball fight, or some harmless prank to pull on someone unsuspecting with green robes.

Yanking his curtains aside Harry set his feet down on the cold stone floor wincing at the change in temperature from his bed, which probably had a warming charm on it, or the sheets or something (he would ask Hermione about that later), and the cool morning air of the still room; other occupants still asleep and snoring, Harry could hear distant birds chirruping from the Forest.

Harry made his way to the communal bath entering a stall quickly. It was during his almost meditative bow headed stance under the water, letting the heat and steam beat his muscles tense of a night of barely remembered nightmares and forbidden musings, that Harry began to dwell on his other non-life threatening issue of greatest importance (the first one being his best friends current estrangement): Ginny.

Ginny.

Oh how that name had morphed in Harry’s mind. He could remember quite clearly, what Harry called the ‘before time’, a period in which Ginny was a presence in his life, perhaps a sibling at times, a friend others, a confidant occasionally, and even at the end of last year’s term an ally in battle. He had always thought of her fondly; she was a vibrant and fun member of the Weasley clan, which Harry held great affection for. At first she had amused, and occasionally embarrassed Harry with her young crush, then after that had seemed to fade she became a friend and one of his staunchest supporters. He remembered fondly when she had stood up for him during that first confrontational meeting of the future D.A. Now though…now it was like she had crawled under his skin, and the great beast that had woken up in Harry could not appear to be silenced no matter what he tried to do. For every moment Harry purposefully chose not to admire her during the day his traitorous and surprisingly vivid imagination would throw them together with abandon betwixt reliving his more horrible encounters over the years. ‘It was almost a toss of a knut’ Harry thought to himself with quiet amusement, whether or not he woke covered in sweat out of fear or arousal.

With a groan Harry acknowledged the return of his arousal having inadvertently reminisced about his last dream of the vibrant red head. With a slightly guilty conscience Harry began to take the problem into his hands. Before Harry had always fantasized about sex almost conceptually, his mind a flurry of amorphous and interchangeable experiences and images with a few favorites occasionally rearing their heads like Cho, or Fleur, or the Patil twins; now however Harry had to fight not to picture Ginny in her uniform slightly small for her and tight across the chest, or Ginny in her Quidditch fare toned leather clad legs held tight astride her brook hair flowing in a long pony tail behind her, or Ginny back at the Burrow wearing tight form fitting jeans and too tight jumpers constantly flashing tantalizing views of her belly whenever she lifted her arms, which was quite common as she had inherited the apparent Weasley trait of accentuating anything they said with great flailing of their arms.

Finishing quickly Harry turned slowly under the water until all the soap was gone and toweled off willing his heart to stop racing. As it was a Saturday, and quite cold outside, Harry would have to endure Ginny and Dean together. He was quite good at hiding his feelings he thought, (though Hermione had occasionally caught him with a meaningful stare so she might know). Ron for sure didn’t know and Harry definitely wanted to keep it that way. He supposed it was all right if Hermione knew, although her and Ginny talked to each other by themselves quite frequently. The special sting that made this extra difficult for Harry though (and a great deal worse than his melancholy view on his ‘relationship’ with Cho) was that Harry knew that if he had woken up to his feelings earlier he would certainly have had her. She had been all over him up until the end of fourth year. Why oh why did he not ask her to the Yule ball then, (he remembered vividly her disappointed expression when Ron had suggested that Harry go with her only to discover Neville had already asked her)?

Tired of dwelling in the past Harry quickly dressed and made his way down to the common room, still to early in the morning to have more than a couple of people in it. Unsurprisingly one of the early risers was Hermione. She was sitting in the middle of the couch with an array of parchment and books covering the entire table. Harry leapt lightly over the back of the couch and bounced into the seat and spoke over Hermione’s squeak of surprise, “isn’t it a bit early in the morning for homework?”

Hermione harrumphed, “Well it’s only early in the morning or late at night I can get an entire table to myself, and I don’t much like studying when I’m drowsy.”

“Also being an early bird helps you avoid a certain red head,” Harry replied simply, trying to avoid a challenging tone.

“I could say the same thing about you,” she said wryly.

Harry blushed, she definitely knew, ‘damn’. “If you must know my dreams woke me up.”

“Nightmares?” she asked concerned.

“Some.”

“I suppose it’s useless for me to say yet again that you’re not supposed to be having those kind of dreams anymore and that you should prac-“

“No Hermione, not visions, just…memories.”

“Oh,” she said in a small voice. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“Would you like to help me on my defense paper? I know you finished yours days ago. Even with Snape as our professor it’s still your best subject.”

“Sure,” replied Harry with a crooked grin. He knew it still niggled at Hermione that she was not the best at something.

They sat in companionable silence as Harry read over her essay, most of which was flawless, the only things in error were practical use theories which while Hermione certainly did not have that much less experience in duels than Harry, he imagined that he spent more time thinking about dueling than Hermione and certainly more time with practice dummies as Harry had switched from wandering the castle in his cloak at night when he couldn’t sleep to making straight for the room of requirement for practical study.

After about half an hour of silence regarding anything not related to academia and seeing Harry staring solemnly into the fire, Hermione finally decided to take a break and stretch the kinks out of her neck, bending it gracefully from side to side, then stretching her arms over her head to pop the joints of her shoulders. Finally she arched her spine as far as it would go and heard a series of satisfying clicks down her spine. She caught Harry’s attention finally with a sad sigh.

“What’s wrong,” asked Harry turning back to look at Hermione.

After a contemplative silence Hermione finally replies simply, “do you want to talk about it?”

“What, your essay? It’s all we’ve-“

Hermione cut him off, “no, not that. Do you want to talk about…our red heads,” she finished with a sigh.

“Oh. I suppose, if you want to.”

“Oh Harry... it would just be so much simpler if…” she trailed off.

“If what?”

“If we could just choose who we want to be with. Find the person you get along with best and just…choose to be in love.”

“Would sort of take all the majesty out of it though.”

“Harry! I didn’t take you as the romantic type.”

Harry blushed again. “I wouldn’t have thought so either until…” now it was Harry’s turn to trail off in embarrassment.

“What,” Hermione probed.

“Merlin, I’ve been trying not to say it out loud but,” he glanced around making sure no one was close enough to listen in, “I mean, look, Cho was, god she was just amazing looking, but even though I was interested in her it wasn’t like I stopped looking around you know? Like I never stopped noticing how Alicia looks in leather pants, or how pretty Luna is once you see beneath the crazy, or that cute thing you do when you bite your lip-“

Hermione squeaked again, “that what with my what!?” she exclaimed.

“Relax, I didn’t mean anything by it. I,” Harry sighed dramatically with his hand on his chest, “I know where your heart lies.”

Hermione laughed, “Sorry Harry, I shouldn’t have reacted like that when you’re only trying to pay me a compliment.”

“Don’t worry about it, and please don’t let your self esteem suffer just because Ron is being a bit of a berk at the moment.”

“A bit?” Hermione asked with a smile.



A hour later Ron and Lavender had met in the common room so Hermione decided to head to breakfast with Harry following quickly behind, not eager to watch his best mate’s copious displays of affection toward the gossipy Gryffindor.

To Harry and Hermione’s surprise there wasn’t a single teacher at breakfast, and only about 30 other students spread about the 4 house tables, few except Slytherins bothering to sit at their own table. In line with the relaxed atmosphere Harry and Hermione decided to sit with Luna who was sitting alone at the Ravenclaw table.

“Hello Harry. Hello Hermione. How nice to see you,” said Luna pleasantly seemingly unsurprised by their sudden appearance.

“Hey”

“Good morning Luna.”

“Anything interesting in the Quibbler next week?” asked Harry politely.

“Oh well, nothing really in your areas of interest Harry, but Hermione,” she turned excitedly, “daddy as I’m sure you know has been spending many years trying to recreate the lost diadem of Ravenclaw (Hermione snorted lightly, Harry tried not to let his grin grow too wide) he recently made some additions and has an expose on his progress. It’s the Bellfire Blooms that’s the real stroke of genius, just being near them makes the humdingers fly off in droves!”

“I imagine most creatures would flee from giant flowers wreathed in flames…” commented Hermione, trying not to sound as Harry would say ‘lecture-ee’.

Harry laughed and asked, “How many blooms are on the…what was it?”

“Diadem, like a crown, and two, one on either side.” Luna put her first fingers up to indicate the flowers placement above each ear. “Unfortunately the stems aren’t very rigid, so daddy keeps burning his shoulders and setting his hair on fire.”

Harry and Hermione laughed uproariously drawing those closest to them to turn briefly at the noise. Harry drawn subconsciously to the incidental intention looked up to see Professor McGonagall quickly approaching the trio.

“Ms. Granger, Ms. Lovegood,” She addressed Harry’s two companions briskly. “Mr. Potter I need you to come with me right now to see the headmaster.”

“Now? Can’t I finish breakfast?”

“I’m afraid it can’t wait. I will see to it that the elves bring you something to eat afterwards.”

With a brief wave Harry left Hermione and Luna sullenly, not wanting to leave the entertaining meal, though, he assured himself, Dumbledore would not have called him this early if it weren’t important.



As Harry and Professor McGonagall approached the door to Dumbledore’s office heated voices could be heard from inside. Within the last few steps Harry realized that the voices were speaking French.

“No dumbledore! Je ne vais pas l'avoir. Il n'y a pas le choix ! Elle va mourir!”

“Le calme Delacour maître. Nous avons des invités. The man in question is about to arrive.”

Harry realized the second voice was Dumbledore when he switched suddenly back to English. As they entered Harry voiced his surprise. “I didn’t know you spoke French sir.”

“Indeed my boy, I have learnt a great many different languages, and French is among my favorites, after Mermish obviously.”

“Obviously,” replied Harry amusedly.

“Have a seat Harry, we have much to discuss, and,” he turned to the Frenchman, “I imagine we would all like to discuss this in as comfortable an atmosphere as possible.”

“Certainement,” said the Frenchman sitting down on the left most seat of three directly in front of Dumbledore, Harry to the right most chair.

Dumbledore steepled his hands and spoke first to the Frenchman, “now, for the sake of Harry would you be so kind as to continue this in English? If there is a concept that you feel cannot be expressed outside your most beautiful language I will be happy to translate.”

“Oui. English eet iz.”

“Thank you. Harry, I’m afraid the situation is quite complicated, so to make sure you understand everything, and it is quite important that you do because you will have to make a very important choice-“

The Frenchman cut Dumbledore off abruptly, “Choice!? Choice!? We have discuss’d zis Dumbledore, to moi! Eet iz no choice!”

“You cannot force this on Mr. Potter, no matter the cost. The laws of your country do not apply here, he will not be coerced. We will explain the situation calmly and in great depth, and then Harry will have time to decide.

“Zere iz no time!” his hand came down hard on Dumbledore’s desk.

“Maître Delacour!” said Dumbledore sharply. He opened his mouth to continue but the name had finally clicked in Harry’s head.

“Oh!” he turned to the Frenchman. “Dumbledore called you Delacour, are you related to Fleur?”

His bluster momentarily calmed, he turned to Harry and eyed him speculatively, as if measuring him. “Oui, I am ‘er fazer.”

Harry held his hand out. “I’m very pleased to meet you sir, Fleur is a very talented witch.” Internally Harry mused that Fleur must have gotten her looks from her mother.”

“I,” Mr. Delacour started, “Oui, je suis heureux de faire votre connaissance ainsi. Ma fille a parlé très fortement de- my apologies, my daughter haz spoken highly of you.”

Dumbledore looked at Harry and afforded him a small smile and a wink. “Now, let us begin at the beginning. Harry, what do you know of Veela?

“Oh,” said Harry startled, not realizing he was going to have to answer anything academic, he shook his head to wring out the remainders of his morning grogginess.

Dumbledore seeming to understand Harry’s behavior apologized for the early hour and made some comment about time zones. Harry barely listened trying to remember everything he had ever heard about Veela.

“Well,” he started slowly, “they’re Bulgaria’s Quidditch mascot,” McGonagall chuckled under her breath and said something like ‘of course’. “They’re quite powerful and can control attraction from the opposite sex, or well, anyone attracted to girls I guess,” he added with a light blush. Dumbledore smiled indulgently (heh). “I’m not sure if it’s pheromones (thank you Hermione) or purely magic, but it did a number on the whole crowd so I imagine if there is a limit it huge. They can change shape when threatened and look like giant birds with claws and wings and they can conjure fire and hurl it. I know Fleur is a quarter Veela and that their hair can be used as a wand core, which means they’re very powerful. I’ve seen Fleur’s ability in action and it tends to work on less people so I’d say her human blood dilutes the ability. I don’t know if she can change shape but I doubt it, and I know she can’t throw fire or the Grindylows in the second task would have been a breeze. That’s…all I can think off.

“Very astute Harry if a bit…conversational, though I admit Veela are not usually included in Hogwarts curriculum.”

“So sorry sir, I didn’t realize you had set an essay,” said Harry cheekily.

“A point to Gryffindor for you cheek Mister Potter,” said McGonagall abruptly. “Let that serve as a reminder for remembering you audience. If there is anyone who is more likely to complain about a detention between you and Severus than you, it is Severus, and our working relationship is much less strained when all we chat about is Quidditch.”

Harry laughed internally at his Professor’s very thinly veiled reference to Harry’s first defense class of the year, and had to agree.

“Now Harry, let me fill in the blanks for you as far as Veela go. To answer your earlier confusion their abilities lie solely in magic. It is tied closely to fey glamour magic as well as leprechaun magic as it is fleeting, for the most part. The influence Veela can use dissipates over great distances, and those entranced by them find themselves more and more immune over time. A full blooded Veela can of course find ways to overcome these limits, but that is neither here nor there.”

Harry nodded trying to retain everything Dumbledore was telling him.

“Now, Veela abilities are in fact much rarer than the counterparts I mentioned. They have the ability to control pure emotion. When a Veela uses her allure they are affecting their, for lack of a better word, thrall by heightening their levels of attraction and creating a false obsessive love not unlike amortentia. This is in fact rather unique. For witches and wizard we can only accomplish this effect with immensely complex potions or out right mental control like the imperious curse. In fact there are only a few known magical creatures that can create similar effects, and rarely in humans. Love potions use materials from these creatures with the aid of magical flora to adapt the magic to humans though no one has yet discovered a way to create permanency. There is some theories that Veela hair could actually solve this, though obtaining Veela hair from any source other than a willing Veela is considered a breach of international law, and as of yet no Veela has gifted anything to the non-Veela magical world. I am inclined to agree with this stance, as the idea of a permanent love potion is quite…intimidating.”

“Why haven’t Veela themselves tried to create a potion like that?” asked Harry.

“There is no need. If contact is sustained between a Veela and a thrall there is little that can break the enchantment.”

Harry made a non-committal noise of understanding. He still did not see where Dumbledore was going with this.

“There is one more ability that Veela possess, though this is now a closely guarded secret. I’m sure you will understand why in a moment. First, as Gamp’s first law of magic states: Magic will always work to create balance with itself. In the most common sense we see this with conjuring. All material in the world is constant, there is never more nor less. All things conjured use of material from the void or nothingness or everythingness depending on your personal belief, and when material is vanished it returns to the void. There is a theoretical limit to this, but the void is in fact an infinity, though a small one.”

“I’m sorry sir, a small infinity?”

Dumbledore brightened immediately, “Oh yes Harry, infinites can be larger or smaller than other infinites. It is something that the Magical community has not invested a great deal of time studying. Wizards are more likely to simply accept something as working with out understanding how, unlike Muggles who seek to understand everything! It is in Muggle mathematics that I draw this knowledge. In any case,” said Dumbledore getting back on track, “balance is what’s important. All magic balances, and the Veela are something of an imbalance. To counteract this, Veela are blesses or cursed, again depending on your point of view, to be susceptible to a bond. When bonded the Veela becomes thralled to another instead of the usual circumstance. Furthermore, the French clan of Veela, the second largest in the world, liaises closely with the French Ministry and has laws governing these bonds and what is legal to do to obtain them. As I’m sure you can imagine, before this was regulated there were many battles fought over Veela and caused much public and private unrest and conflict.”

“What can cause this bond?” asked Harry.

“The bond is formed when a Veela has had its life saved in a particularly altruistic manner.” Dumbledore continued when Harry looked confused. “It is not enough to say, put the life of a Veela in danger and then rescue them. There can be no trickery either, for example hiring someone else to put the Veela in danger allowing you to save her.”

“You keep saying ‘her’, are there no male Veela?”

“If there are, no one but a Veela female has ever seen one.”

“How do they, you know, make more Veela then?”

“No one is sure. Now, getting back to task, as their magic is emotional their own emotions are effected when the bond is first formed. They are drawn to their intended bond-mate and can do nothing else but pursue them.”

“That sounds horrible.” Replied Harry softly.

“Yes, but it is balance for the great power they wield.”

“Do these bonds happen often? Are Bill and Fleur bonded?”

“Bill and Fleur intend to bond after their wedding.”

“So, you can choose to bond then, voluntarily?”

“Yes, a Veela may. It is in fact quite an honor to be the recipient of a bond by choice. Bill should be very proud of himself.”

Harry snorted, “I’m sure he is,” then caught himself realizing the father of the future bride was sitting next to him. “Sorry sir, I didn’t mean to be crass.”

“No ‘arm done. I was similarly a recipient of this honor. I know what it entails,” he finished with a slightly secret smile.

Harry still slightly uncomfortable turns back to Dumbledore urging him to continue, “Sir, what has all this got to do with me, not that it’s not interesting?”

Dumbledore sighed, and seemed to take a moment to gather his thoughts. Harry rather thought that Dumbledore was deciding whether or not to continue more with his historical explanation before getting to the point. “Harry,” started dramatically, then with a change of expression Harry couldn’t quite get a read on finished, “you are an unintentional recipient of a Veela bond.”

“What!” exclaimed Harry standing suddenly. “When could I have…oh, the third task. When I saved Fleur from an imperioused Krum,” Harry realized sadly. He did not want to get between Bill and Fleur.

“No.” said Dumbledore simply.

“No? Then who? I mean saving someone’s life is sort of memorable. Especially a Veela.”

“Fleur’s life was never in danger, Mr. Krum’s instructions were to incapacitate not kill.”

“Then…who, and when?”

“Fleur’s sister Gabrielle during the second task.”

“What!” Harry exclaimed again paling, though not standing this time. “But she was never in any real danger.”

“True, however neither you nor Ms. Delacour knew this, and as I’m sure your aware, with magic intent is everything. Emotionally you believed you were saving her life as did she.”

“There, there must be a way to cancel the bond, I mean I haven’t even seen her in nearly two years, why now?”

Mr. Delacour finally spoke again, and to Harry’s surprise he looked quite angry, apparently not having responded well to Harry’s reluctance. “Zere is no way to cancel ze bond. And we ‘av waited because when ze bond was first formed she was too young. She ‘as matured, and her bond now calls to her to complete it.”

“What will happen to her if we don’t bond?” asked Harry quietly.

“She will die!” exploded Mr. Delacour.

“Monsieur!” yelled Dumbledore loudly getting both Harry and Monsieur Delacour’s attention back at him. “Harry she will not die, she will loose her magic. In many magical communities this is often considered the same thing. French has no word to differentiate between the two ‘deaths’.”

“But, but that’s still…horrible! I’m sorry for my reaction Mr. Delacour, I had not realized that Gabrielle could suffer for this. Of, of course I’ll do the bond if it’s the only way to help her.”

Dumbledore spoke before Mr. Delacour could respond. “Harry, wait. Noble though your intentions are you must understand the nature of the bond in…detail before deciding. This will mean a great change in your life, one you may or may not be comfortable yet. Also, though there is by no means a known way to cancel a bond before it is consummated, there is some time before Ms. Delacour’s magic comes to risk, and Harry will not harm her in taking a few days to decide after hearing all the details.”

“Oui. Fine Dumbledore. Get on wiz it.”

Harry spoke, “So, what are the details, and how is the bond, what’s the word you used? Consummated?”

“That, Harry, I believe is a conversation for you and Ms. Delacour.