FicWad

A/N: Hello everybody I am back! I am sorry about the incredible delay to this story, but I hope you can be understanding, this is a BIG chapter and a lot happens, and I had to re-write like half of it, cause it just didn't have the impact I wanted. In other news, you may have noticed that fanfiction (dot) net has started to crack down on stories that violate they're content rules. Historically this was never enforced in my experience, and after noticing that some of the really graphic stories on ficwad were actually reposted on fanfiction I decided to also do that, to increase potential readership. It was a good 12 chapter run and I really appreciated the feedback I got from there, it's a good community and lots of amazing stories are on there, but ultimately I decided to take my own story down rather than have my account deleted, so people would have a place to go and know what happened rather than just a message saying the account was no more. Hopefully if you were a fan of the story on fanfiction you're now here. So with out further ado, chapter 13!

~Hallows Seeker






Chapter 13: Fallout

Vernon Dursley was setting to bed after a perfectly wonderful ordinary day. Vernon was still feeling the adrenaline from a sale earlier to an American construction company. 'For all their lawlessness and immorality, you could always count on the yanks to write a big check,' thought Vernon. It was with a smile on his face that he bought his wonderful son a full set of new training gear. The basement had been converted, with heavy bags, and wall to wall mats for him to train while he was at home, which was quite wonderfully tomorrow, and the little freak was continuing with his decision to find other places to stay for Christmas break. It truly was a Christmas miracle.

When he had gotten home, it was to the smell of cookies baking, and Petunia's 'famous' three day roast. The smell of the roast had been permeating the house since the day before and, as always, it had his mouth watering. He looked fondly on the giant tree he had bought the week before, and couldn't wait to decorate it with his son when he arrived tomorrow.

Petunia was currently in the bath, a large luxurious thing he had bought her for their fifteenth anniversary. It was filled with salts and bubbles, and he could smell the lavender and vanilla from where he was, at his side of the bed.

In his dressing gown, Vernon settled into the very soft mattress. Their relatively modest home had always allowed Vernon to buy just about every luxury that he considered important, and all the kitchen appliances and cleaning supplies Petunia asked for. The best he would always say.

Settled on his back, he patiently waited for Petunia to finish cleaning herself. He always thought it endearing that she kept such a clean house, almost in a ritualistic fashion, and that her ritual always involved pampering herself at the start and end of every day, with the house in-between. Still, after all these years, he couldn't manage to get to sleep with out her there, and briefly wished he had brought a bit of paperwork home to dally with while he waited.

It was just as he naughtily thought about surprising Petunia in the bath to 'wash her back' (something he hadn't done in years) when a deafening BOOM came from outside. The house seemed to rattle on its frame, and with a second BOOM, the windows in the bedroom shattered, or rather exploded inward. From the sound of it, the windows in the other rooms and downstairs had exploded as well.

Vernon, who had rolled out of bed and onto the ground with the first boom, covered his head as bits of glass rained over his head. Petunia came streaking out of the bathroom, clutching her gown to her, hair wet and plastered to her face and neck, screaming about bombs. She spied Vernon on the ground and ran to him, mindful of the broken glass, and knelt as his side, "Vernon! Vernon are you alright!?"

"Yes Tuney, I'm fine, call the police, I'm going to see what's happening."

"Be careful Vernon," she moaned over her tears, grabbing the phone beside their bed and bringing it down to her lap where she was huddled on the floor next to the bed.

With a quick stop to the closet to grab his rifle, Vernon streaked downstairs, the rubber sole of his slippers keeping him safe from the glass on the floor. With belated realization Vernon noticed that all the light bulbs in the house has shattered as well, and with a pained jump in his chest, the TV, vases, and all the framed pictures.

His panic not really allowing him to think about it, Vernon streaked to the door and flung it open, rifle aimed forward in one hand, already cocked. The street was dark, far too dark. Every street lamp had exploded, and every house on the block was dark. 'What on earth?' Vernon thought.

The neighbors had started coming out. Mr. Warner from across the way, who Vernon had always been friendly with (his lawn was almost as well kept as Vernon's) jogged across the street, "Oi Vernon, what do you suppose that was? Airplane flying too low?"

"I don't know Roger, but it blew all the windows out in my house."

"Good lord, really? The whole house trembled something fierce, but all our windows look intact," said Roger gazing over the front of his house.

Vernon grumbled, of course his house would be hit hardest, and the Potter boy wasn't even there for him to blame.

A high cruel voice called out, and everyone outside jumped like it had been shouted directly into their ears, "HARRY POTTER!"

Vernon paled, he shouldn't have thought of 'the boy'. It was like a jinx.

Roger shot a glance at Vernon, but Vernon just shook his head, not understanding what was going on, and then, the wonderful, beautiful sound of the police showing up washed through him. He lowered his gun to the ground, not wanting to cause any confusion as the bright blue lights, brighter than they should have been given the pitch darkness of their block, grew closer. Their wailing sirens, usually a loud irritant, suddenly the most beautiful music Vernon had ever heard. 'Now we'll get this sorted out,' thought Vernon.

"Vernon!" Petunia called out to him, running outside and crushing herself to him. He used one arm to support her, "I head the sirens, so I came outside."

"I think it's fine. Roger thinks it was a plane flying too low-"

He was cut off. The police had pulled to a stop harshly in front of their house and all four constables stepped out with flashlights, "Everyone all right gents? Do we need to call an ambulance? Anyone hurt?"

Roger spoke first, "I don't think so Officer, but Miss Felts in number six hasn't come out, and she lives alone.

"Alright, we'll check up on her. In the meantime I want everyone to stay in their homes while-" the officer was cut off. His squad car had suddenly and with out warning blasted up into the air. Everyone stopped and stared, and only began to scream and run inside when it had reached the apex of it's jump and stayed there, unmoving.

Vernon gaped, the police gaped, and neighbors ran inside, but stayed near their doors and windows to watch. It was when the car came rocketing down with a resounding crash, flattening one of the police officers, that everything went truly mad.

The remaining three officers stared at the wreckage of the car, and where their friend had just been flattened, with pistols aimed at nothing. Vernon watched intensely, pure terror pooling through him, and one of the officers staggered and held his head. He stumbled and his partner grabbed him and asked what was wrong. The stumbling one shook his head, unable to speak, then straightened, and with dead expressionless eyes shot his partner in the chest.

The third policeman turned and shouted, "Brian, what did you do!?" and aimed his gun at the one who had shot his partner. Petunia screamed at the loud retort of the pistol, and Vernon just shook his head, this could not be happening.

The mad cop didn't reply, he simply raised his pistol and fired again. The third's cop head flung backwards and a dark viscous stream of red blew out the back of his head which had snapped back, carrying the rest of him limply to the ground. Then the last policeman shot himself.

Now beyond the ability to reason, Vernon pulled Petunia up and ran for the house. The door slammed shut. He spun on the spot, looking for someplace to hide, and then noticed a tall, lank figure in robes so black he stood out from the surrounding darkness, like shade within shade. In his hand was a stick like the one Potter had, but his was white, and reminded Vernon disturbingly of bleached bone. Perhaps it was his imagination, or simply the absence of light, but it seemed to glow like a flame wreathed around the inside of it.

"Hello Muggle," the figure spoke, his voice high and terrible, "tell me, where can I find Harry Potter?"

Vernon did not know how he knew the figure had spoken to him, he could not see his face, but somehow he knew it was him, "who- who are you?" he asked, unable to say anything else.

The figure lowered his hood and smiled, stretching his already oddly taught too pale skin even more, tightening his eyes into dangerous red slits; 'this was not a man, no one looked that, that demonic,' Vernon thought wildly.

Petunia gasped and Vernon turned his head to look at her. Her face had gone white, and a look of sheer terror crossed over her."

"Oh," said Vernon simply.

"Yes, oh," and Voldemort laughed, "tell me now Muggle, and I shall grant you quick deaths. Take too long to answer, and you will find I am capable of inflicting far more pain than you can comprehend, and then I will kill you, and your son."

The threat against Dudley calmed Vernon, enough to go for his gun. He knew this man was a freak like Potter, and that Dumblesomething character they had met the summer before, but perhaps if he got a lucky shot off... Voldemort did nothing to stop him. Vernon dove and grabbed the gun and aimed, and though her tried, he could not pull the trigger. Something was holding his finger in place.

Voldemort laughed again, "ah yes, firearms, how... juvenile. Tell me Muggle, have you ever killed someone?"

Vernon lied, "yes."

Another laugh, "you are lying," he said in a dangerous sounding hiss. "Go ahead, attempt to kill that which cannot be killed," it said, for Vernon no longer considered the figure before him human. No human could look and sound like that, like something out of a nightmare.

Vernon pulled the trigger, and the gun exploded, along with his hands.

The pain was unbelievable, and all Vernon could do was stare at where his hands used to be and scream, and then something invisible stopped him from screaming, forcibly closing his throat but not choking him. Once his own screams had been silenced he realized Petunia was also screaming, and then Voldemort flicked his wand and she shot up into the air and spun slowly, "perhaps this one can tell me what I want to know," Voldemort said quietly, though again, that quiet voice sounded like it was right next to his ear.

"I don't know I don't know he's at school!" Petunia shouted hysterically.

"No, he is not at school for break, that much I know, try again. Here, perhaps this will loosen your tongue," he said conversationally and lowered his wand. Petunia plummeted to the ground and Vernon tried to get up to catch her, but the pain lanced through him and he toppled back to the ground. Much to his relief Petunia's fall was halted just before she hit the ground, and then with a light 'fump' she landed on her backside crying and crawling over to Vernon.

Voldemort spun around holding his wand aloft, "show yourself!"

"Hello Tom," said an old sad voice, and Dumbledore was suddenly there, standing in front of Vernon and Petunia in robes of magenta and a thoroughly wizard like hat, between them and Voldemort. All the contempt and irritation at Dumbledore melted at once. His power and fury were palpable, and they were directed at their attacker, and Vernon felt saved, or perhaps simply safer, but something within Dumbledore radiated confidence, and it extended to Vernon. Belatedly he realized Petunia was tearing strips of cloth off her gown and tying them tightly around the stumps of his wrists, and he was cast away for a brief second to when he had met Petunia in college. She was just a quiet nursing student then, second year, and he was suddenly so proud that she had remembered everything she had learned then.

"I love you," Vernon said weakly, smiling, the pain almost gone amidst tingling absence.

Petunia, blinking to see through her tears replied, "I love you too, keep your-" she halted holding back a sob, "keep them elevated, you're going into shock, don't fall asleep."

He lay his arms across his massive stomach while Petunia tended to him, and he gazed at Dumbledore and Voldemort beyond.

They both stood there, wands raised, staring at one another, obviously waiting to see who would strike first.

Dumbledore spoke, "how did you break through the wards Tom?" he asked in a quiet calm tone.

"I didn't," he smiled as he replied.

"Fascinating, though your quarry is not here. Harry is quite safe where he is."

"You don't say, hmmm... now let me recall what I know about blood wards."

"Coming here was foolish Tom, you cannot have believed I left this place unguarded, and unwarded."

"The protections came from the Mother correct, well that much was obvious, her's was the sacrifice wasn't it? Ahh, now I see it. I can't believe I didn't see it before, the sister. Her death would have broken the wards as well. I have been foolish in my oversight, but no matter. The wards are already gone, and she will be dead within minutes."

"I defeated you last spring at the Ministry, and I will defeat you now."

"Perhaps, though loath I am to admit it, I think Potter had quite a bit more to do with that than you," Voldemort said, thought he sounded quite unconcerned, "tell me Dumbledore, what has happened to your hand?"

"Nothing to worry about," Dumbledore replied brightly, "simply an experiment gone awry."

"That is not the rumor I have heard."

"I find it is not best to guide myself on rumors,"

"Perhaps not."

Another long silence, broken only by Petunia's sobbing. Her tending to Vernon over, she simply clutched him, and Vernon did his best to hold her. Then Voldemort's eyes lit up, "yes! yes! I understand now! The boy, this is no longer his home. I can't believe I didn't see it before, blood magic is so fickle as we both know. The only question that remains is, where does his heart lie now, at Hogwarts? No, that can never really be one's home can it," Voldemort continued, his smile dying now, "well... not to a student at least. Can it Dumbledore?"

Something settled in Vernon when he heard what Voldemort had said, 'The Boy' no longer lived here? When had that happened, and why hadn't he told Vernon to his face, he would have liked one last opportunity to yell at him...

"No Tom, Hogwarts cannot be someone's home, as I explained to you before. It can belong to no one person enough to be called their home. Not truly, though I know you have always wished to diminish it so."

Fury rose up in Voldemort's face, visibly, and he struck. Like a whip crack his stick flew through the air and a bolt of lightening shot down from the sky directly at Dumbledore. Dumbledore raised his wand and the lightening arced around some invisible bubble surrounding him and was absorbed into the ground. Then Dumbledore moved. His robes flew behind him as he stepped away from Vernon and Petunia and cast a circle of rising green flames around them. It did not impeded their view, but made Vernon feel a bit safer for some reason, despite being surrounded by fire.

Voldemort glanced at Vernon, "always thinking of others aren't you Dumbledore," then struck again. The remaining undamaged police car flew through the air at Dumbledore and hit that same invisible bubble, glancing off and flying back at Voldemort with the sound of a bullet ricochet, much faster than before. Voldemort disappeared briefly only to reappear on the other side of the street, while the car cut huge gouges in the asphalt.

With a deafening crack the ground beneath Dumbledore split open and gaped wide. Dumbledore spun and hopped off to the side, casting an enormous arrow shaped hex of crackling purple straight at Voldemort who parried it, sending it into the house behind him. The wall exploded outwards in flaming bits, though they all seemed to miss Voldemort by a great deal, then suddenly he was on the move again, and a great flaming serpent shot out of his wand, careening towards Dumbledore. It evaporated into steam, and with a swish it shifted and surrounded Voldemort in a large opaque bubble, then sealed, turning to solid ice.

Vernon turned away, he couldn't watch, it was too terrible to watch, they were exploding houses by flicking a bloody stick! He turned to Petunia, who's face was rapturous, tears streaming down in great thick drops; she gazed in awe and terror at the display. For the first time in many years Vernon wondered about his wife's sister. Had Petunia seen things like this before? He turned back to watch.

Voldemort glowed from within the ice, the inside already visibly melting. Dumbledore was performing a series of intricate movements with his wand, and mumbled words, and a sound like a car engine revving began. Before it could get to the apex however, the ice ball detonated outwards in a blast of yellow, the shards of ice razor sharp flying towards Dumbledore. His failed spell already forgotten, he slashed his wand through the air at the ice and it immediately turned to water, into a short shockingly cold shower.

With a frustrated cry of, "You're becoming predictable old man!" Voldemort began casting a series of bright green curses at Dumbledore, screaming something that sounded like 'abracadabra' and the sheer lunacy of the situation made Vernon gasp in painful laughter.

Petunia looked at him like he was going mad, "what-" she began to ask, but was cut off with a deafening crack that made Vernon's ears ring. Every time Voldemort shot another of those green lights, Dumbledore would pull a piece of road up to intercept, and the green light made the bits of asphalt explode outwards, causing those ear splitting cracks.

Dumbledore had seemed to find a sort of rhythm and began to block the green light and send spells back at Voldemort. A series of silver glowing balls arced rapid fire at him four or five at a time, and Voldemort was forced to spin and disappear, the silvery balls hitting the ground with a series of quick 'splats'.

Reappearing behind Dumbledore Vernon shouted, "look out!" but Dumbledore seemed to already know where he would reappear, and had another set of those silvery balls already on their way. Voldemort dodged all but one, and it stuck and started to grow, weighing him down, making him stagger.

"SCHOOL YARD TRICKS! FIGHT ME! FIGHT ME LIKE A WIZARD SHOULD!" and in a blind fury Voldemort set Vernon's house on fire in a sudden burst of flames, and Vernon could swear he saw shapes in the flames, like animals. Great snakes, and horses, and wolves, and teeth, lots and lots of teeth. Great open mouths devouring the house in a fire so hot and bright he had to squint just to look at it.

With a frown Dumbledore struck again. A hydrant down the way burst from the ground and he redirected the gout of water from going straight up and instead at Voldemort. It hit Voldemort for a moment, and Vernon thought for one startling moment it was over. Voldemort tumbled to the ground, and spluttered, but it was only a moment, and soon the water was being redirected at Vernon, or rather the flaming circle around him and his wife.

The water curved around the circle, killing the protecting ring of fire and Voldemort shot another of those green spells straight at him. Vernon closed his eyes, fully expecting to die, but with another crack, a piece of road blocked it like the ones before.

With a furious shout Voldemort, disappeared again, his body simply blinking out of existence with nary a sound, and the quite large silvery ball fell to the ground and vanished.

Vernon began to speak, "is he gone?" but Dumbledore quieted him with a quick, "no."

Dumbledore scanned the area and recast the protecting ring of fire. After a moment he turned and began to quiet the flames ruining the house, with slow precise movement. This was apparently the distraction Voldemort had been waiting for and reappeared suddenly and said, "crucio," quickly and precisely.

Dumbledore crumpled to the ground, agonized cries coming from his wizened lips, as Voldemort grinned cruelly. With a screech and a sudden burst of red and gold fire, a flaming bird appeared and scratched at Voldemort's wand hand. Voldemort cried out in pain and swatted the bird with his free hand, sending it hard to the ground, and with with a quick flash a green, quite dead in a sudden bloom of ash.

It had been enough of a distraction though, Dumbledore, standing tall and proud again, with a furious face, threw curse after curse at Voldemort. Never the same thing twice, and never at the same place twice. Voldemort was forced to bounce from place to place, dodging some, parrying others, and countering the few he was too slow to avoid otherwise, but nothing got through, until a well placed thin red beam sliced through Voldemort's shoulder while he countered a bright bolt of white that had shot at him faster than anything before.

Voldemort spun, keeping his injured arm away from Dumbledore and counter struck, quickly going on the offensive again, with a barrage of dark red crescents flying from his wand, growing as they neared Dumbledore, seeming to electrify the air, and speeding up suddenly just before they struck the gleaming silver shield Dumbledore had made appear before him.

The resounding gong of the spells hitting the shield were so loud Vernon closed his eyes reflexively, and when he opened them, Voldemort was flying. Flying, with nothing beneath him, and his deep black robes flapping behind him in a great wind that Vernon couldn't feel. He shot a glance at Dumbledore, and he look worried, his mouth agape, but wand steady and aimed at Voldemort still.

With his new position Voldemort wheeled around the sky and shot spells down on Dumbledore, mostly green, with a few reds and yellows and one ghostly purple, like a cloud, which moved slowly, but which Dumbledore clearly regarded as a greater threat, moving out of the way rather than letting it hit his shield. All the while becoming more and more visibly tired.

From his position Vernon could see Dumbledore twirling his wand behind the shield, but nothing seemed to be happening as he blocked and dodged the deadly spells. Then, suddenly the shield dropped and with both hands on his wand Dumbledore pointed it at Voldemort and shouted something Vernon didn't understand. The result was clear enough however, as a great spiraling vortex of wind and debris shot up from the ground and encircled Voldemort hiding him from view for a moment. Then with a bang and muffled 'thwump' Voldemort shot from the vortex and crashed through the roof of a nearby house.

Dumbledore collapsed, clutching his chest and breathing hard. Vernon silently prayed their rescuer wasn't about to have a heart attack. Dumbledore managed to stand on shaky legs after a moment, and vernon could see his teeth bared in a grimace, still breathing heavily. It seemed amazing that Dumbledore was even standing, and then Voldemort was back. He was absolutely covered in blood and small cuts, but his eye's nearly glowed red with rage as he stalked over to Dumbledore at a sedate pace, casually parrying everything Dumbledore managed to fire at him, but nothing took.

With a weary sigh, Dumbledore lowered his wand to point at the ground. Voldemort grinned in triumph, and aimed his wand at Dumbledore's chest, "any last words?" he asked, almost casually.

"Only one," replied Dumbledore weakly.

Voldemort laughed, "only one, why I don't recall you ever being so... brief. Well? What is it, speak and then watch as I end the legacy of the great Dumbledore."

Still breathing heavily Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and the corner of his mouth turned up slightly, "charge."

The air was rent with great sharp cracks and over a dozen people simply appeared in the street. Two of them, a rather threadbare looking man and a younger girl with pink hair immediately sent bolts of green at Voldemort. He dodged them, but then three others joined the fight, and then four more. Overwhelmed Voldemort simply left and the collected people seemed to sag in relief, that is until Dumbledore collapsed properly.

The girl with pink hair screamed, "Dumbledore!" and charged over to him, falling to her knees and turning him over. He was not dead, but his face was a mask of pain, and he still held his chest. The threadbare man came over and knelt beside Dumbledore, moving his wand over him mumbling something Vernon couldn't hear. Dumbledore pushed his wand aside, and stood shakily with the help of the pink haired girl. From the inside of his robes Dumbledore drew two vials.

The threadbare man eyed them and asked, "are you sure that's a good idea?"

"I'll sleep tomorrow, there is much to be done," Dumbledore replied breathlessly, uncorking the potions and downing them simultaneously. For a moment steam streamed from his ears, and suddenly he was standing tall again. The others had also grouped around him but he calmly moved from them over to Vernon. He knelt pointing his wand at the place where his hands had once been.

Petunia spoke weakly, "Dumbledore, his hands."

Vernon looked down, and it was as if the pain flew back into him with a strangled cry.

Dumbledore moved over swiftly, muttering and pointing his wand at the bloody stumps, "you are lucky that he did not use a curse to remove them,"

"Lucky!" Vernon cried.

"Yes, quite, I can regrow them." and with a twinge of pain and a sound a bit like "shlorp" two limp, empty looking hands appeared, but they looked as if there was nothing in them. Just flesh balloons, like a horrible mockery of the gloves doctors wore, more importantly though, the pain was gone in an instant.

"Here," Dumbledore handed him two vials. "The first will regrow the muscles and tissues, the second will regrow the bones. This will be quite painful and take around..." he paused clearly calculating, "eight hours, try not to move to much while it is happening. You will be quite tired and hungry, but don't do anything strenuous or eat until the tingling in your hands stops. Oh, and both taste quite terrible, I recommend holding your nose, and here," he handed something small to Petunia, "a lemon drop, for after. Suck on it, but don't swallow anything. Sugar makes the potions inert."

He moved away then, to the ash pile that had been the flaming bird that had appeared suddenly during the fight, and bent to lift a small featherless chick and place it gently into the front pocket of his robes.

With a grimace Vernon downed the potions, and felt an intense tingling like his hands were only asleep, not mostly gone. Petunia handed him the lemon drop, and he sucked on it briefly, before decided the tart lemony flavor was actually making everything taste worse, like food after brushing your teeth and spat it out, "disgusting."

With his head clear he wrapped his arms around Petunia as best he could and held her as she sobbed, "I'm alright, we're alright. Everything's fine now."

"Oh Vernon, the house! The house is gone!"

"But we're fine Tuney, and that thing is gone."

"He'll come after us, he'll come after us to get at Harry, oh god, this is just like when Lily died!"

"But he's gone now-"

"He'll find us, he can, I know he can. Lily... Lily was... powerful," she said in a dark pained voice, "and she only lasted a year before he found them. And they could do...m-m...m-m-m-agic." She dissolved into sobbing again, and Vernon didn't know what to do besides hold her. He couldn't even stroke her hair like he knew would calm her, so he just gripped her with his arms as tight as he could, trying to will her to be safe.

Dumbledore walked up to them again, "the Aurors will be here soon. You are both being put into protective custody. There are other Muggles in situations similar to yours, you will be with people you can feel comfortable with I'm sure."

Vernon's first instinct was to rebel, and shout about how he didn't need any help to protect his family, but the things he had seen that day... he was more terrified of magic than he ever was, but now it seemed so much more real, and dangerous than he realized. He recalled what had happened to Dudley two summers ago. "Anything, just keep my family safe."

"You have my word," Dumbledore spoke softly, and then with two soft pops, another two wizards appeared, one with lank grey hair and a sour disposition, the other with a shiny shaved bald head and a small gold hoop in his ear. With a start Vernon recognized the black Wizard as a security aid to the Prime Minister. Going on a year now, the Minister was never seen with out this man standing behind him in a dark suit, with dark sunglasses and a white earpiece.

"Hello Mr. Dursley," said the one Wizard in a deep soothing voice, "my name is Kingsley, come with me and I'll explain everything about where you'll be staying."



.:~:._.:~:._.:~:._.:~:._.:~:._.:~:._.:~:._.:~:.



About forty five minutes away by motorway, in the heart of London, Harry Potter and Gabrielle Delacour awoke with a start. They gaped at each other, and with a start Harry realized that she must have seen it too, "you were there with me weren't you?"

"Yes," she said quietly.

"That, that hasn't happened in a while. That um... that was a vision, of... of Voldemort fighting... fighting Dumbledore! They were fighting outside Privet drive! Oh shite!" Harry bounded from the bed, quite naked and still sticky. He shot a glance at the clock on the wall, an old victorian thing, with the gears clearly visible, and noticed it had only been a few hours since they had fallen asleep.

"'Arry! Where are you going?"

"I've! I've... I don't know." A patronus in the shape of a phoenix flew in through the closed door.

It spoke in the voice of Dumbledore, "I am downstairs, I need to speak with you, please bring Ms. Delacour with you."

"Let's go," said Harry quickly walking to the door.

"'Arry, your clothes!"

"Oh," he said looking down, "right."

Gabrielle scourgified both of them, and they ran down the stairs to find Dumbledore sitting patiently in a squashy chair by the fire in the den. He stood when they arrived. "Ah, good, you're-"

"Are my aunt and uncle alright?" asked Harry quickly.

Dumbledore looked quite surprised, "yes, they are, but I thought the visions had stopped."

"They did, this was the first one I've had since he possessed me-" Gabrielle gasped, "sorry, we're only up to third year, I haven't gotten to that part of the story yet, but Dumbledore, Gabrielle had the vision too, and what's more, I didn't wake up screaming. It felt more like a normal dream. There wasn't any pain either."

A very calculating look crossed Dumbledore's face for an instant before saying, "Interesting, but something we should investigate later. For now, we need to deal with this situation first."

"What happened?"

"The blood wards protecting you and Petunia from harm have fallen. Mr. and Mrs. Dursley and their son are being relocated to an Order safe house. The ministry will have nothing to do with it. In the meantime, we need to relocate you and Ms. Delacour, as Voldemort has successfully guessed as to the reason why the wards fell."

"Why 'ave zhey? Blood wards are zhe most powerful."

"Indeed," he replied with an impressed smile, "however, there are only two things that could have broken these particular wards. Harry would have had to come of age, which he hasn't yet, or he must have somehow decided that Privet drive was no longer his home."

Gabrielle blushed, "I'm sorry 'Arry," she said meekly.

"It's not your fault," started Harry, but Dumbledore interrupted him.

"Actually, I rather think it is, but that does not mean you should assign blame. I cannot help but notice you've redecorated. Lovely charms work, the house looks...warm. Everything a proper home should be," Dumbledore said sadly.

Harry suddenly understood and he felt the blood drain from his panic, "I didn't mean to. It's not like I said anything like, this is my home now."

"I know Harry m'boy, I know. As I'm sure you know, emotion plays a great deal of significance in Magic."

"I'm sorry," Harry said again.

"Pish posh, what's done is done, the question is, how do we move on. Voldemort is currently licking his wounds, and as soon as he is able, he is going to begin trying to find your new home. He knows it will probably be under a fidelius, but as you well know a fidelius is far less secure than blood wards and takes a week to prepare. I rather think you should disappear for a little while, and then, after I have reinforced the wards around the Burrow again, spend the rest of break there. For now though, I don't think you should stay anywhere obvious. Nowhere you have been before, and no one connected with either the Ministry or the Order. Actually, out of the country would be best, for at least a week. In fact, if we can convince Voldemort you have left the country, all the better to broaden his search, and keep him busy," Dumbledore was clearly beginning to talk to himself now, "yes, perhaps Madame Maxime will house you for a time."

"Sir?" Gabrielle asked lightly, "what about my parents 'ome?"

Dumbledore looked up from his thoughts, "hmm? Oh, yes that should work, thank you Ms. Delacour, your Father's home is quite well protected I'm sure. One less thing to worry about. Here," he removed a broken side mirror from a car out of his pocket, "I shall send you now, and inform Mrs. Weasley about the new circumstances. I shall also arrange to send any letters your friends may want to write, and inform them you are both safe.

"Thanks," said Harry reeling. "Kreacher," the elf appeared, "I'm going to be leaving the country for a bit, if you need me I'll be at the Delacour's. Keep cleaning, and redecorating like I said."

Kreacher bowed low and disappeared with another crack. Dumbledore looked astonished, "how?"

Harry looked a might embarrassed, um... me and Mrs. Black have come to... sort of an accord."

Dumbledore looked impressed and slightly worried, and glanced at where Mrs. Black's portrait once hung, "Merlin's beard, you got her portrait down!"

Harry blushed, "well actually she removed herself, but apparently taking the whole wall down would have done it."

Dumbledore looked gob-smaked, "my word Harry, I can't believe I didn't think of that, very impressive. If we were at Hogwarts I would assign you points." The worried look returned, "what sort of accord, if I may ask Harry?"

"Well sir, um... she more or less wants me to use the house of Black as influence. In her own words she said she didn't care what I did with it, as long as the name stays influential."

"Interesting," replied Dumbledore lowly. "Would you mind terribly if I spoke to her portrait at some point?"

"Of course not."

"Well then, I think we should be off quickly. Do either of you know the packing charm?"

"I do sir," Gabrielle said in a quiet voice.

"Very good, please do not tarry. The longer we remain here the more likely we will have Death Eaters scouting. It would be best to leave before someone is here to detect the portkey."

Harry and Gabrielle rushed upstairs. With a wave and a strong loud cry of "pack" everything they needed flew into their trunks. Gabrielle's was apparently magically expanded, and an impressive amount of clothes streamed into it in a cacophony of color. With an impressed smile Harry levitated the trunks and shrunk them into his pocket.

Once downstairs Dumbledore handed Harry the portkey. Gabrielle placed her hand on it, slightly over Harry's and they both looked up into Dumbledore's light smile, "Good cheer Harry, Gabrielle, I shall see you in a week's time."

They both nodded and Dumbledore tapped the broken side mirror sending the duo rushing through space navel first. They wrapped their free arms around one another to stop their incessant bumping. When at last they arrived, Harry landed quite painfully on his bum next to Gabrielle who landed daintily on the grass near a long gravel path up to the manor.

Harry looked on with a bit of awe. The house was three stories plus a tall tower replete with a large brass telescope. The house stood on the top of a large knoll, with smaller houses dotting the landscape near the base. A large woods peaked around from the back of the hill, as did a bubbling stream, laying in a twisting path through the entire scene (or it would have been bubbling if it weren't currently frozen over). The stream bulbed into a small pond quite a ways from the hill where, during summer time, would be an ideal place to swim.

The house itself looked very old and elegant. Much of it was wooden, but a few walls were made with dark dusky brick lined with ivy. The whole front of the house was a garden, currently being tended by several house elves, one of which was already hurrying over to Gabrielle.

"Little Misses be returning home!"

"Hello Peckle," replied Gabrielle brightly.

Peckle turned to Harry and gave him a hard stare while he stood and brushed himself off. "Is this being Little Misses mate?"

Gabrielle nodded and Peckle took a step towards Harry and gave what he supposed was meant to be an intimidating glare, "you be treating Miss well young Master."

Harry was about to reply when Gabrielle spoke over him, "Peckle, don't be rude, Harry has been nothing less than a prince with me."

Harry flushed red, but Peckle seemed satisfied, "then Peckle is being very happy for you! Come, Little Misses parents will be wanting to see you."

Peckle led them both inside, and Harry was suddenly very nervous. True, he had met Monsieur Delacour before, but that was before he had been intimate with his youngest daughter, and Gabrielle's mother too. He had never met her, and Harry had no idea what to expect.

Once inside Peckle turned to leave, "Peckle must be returning to garden now, roses not be de-thorning themselves," she said in what she thought was a very funny joke. Giggling to herself she left and closed the entrance door. Another elf, male this time, wearing the same sort of sheet toga ensemble as Peckle appeared with a crack. "Young Mistress, Honored guest," he bowed to both of them, "Mistress be returning from town and Master is due home at six. Perhaps young Mistress and Master would like to wait in drawing room with our other guest until they arrive?"

"Other guest?" asked Gabrielle not waiting for an answer and striding towards what Harry supposed was the drawing room. Harry followed quickly behind. The drawing room was immediately off the entrance hall and did not take long to get to. Once inside Harry was very pleasantly surprised to find Bill Weasley sitting with his feet up in a large easy chair, reading a French magical newspaper called The Invisible Gazette (Harry assumed it had a translation charm on it as it was clearly in english).

Bill looked up when they entered and stood the newspaper falling forgotten to the ground, "good lord, Harry! What on earth are you doing here?"

Gabrielle ran up to Gabrielle and hugged him, "Beel! I didn't know you were visiting! Where's Fleur, iz she upstairs?"

Bill chuckled as he hugged her back briefly before dropping her back on her feet, "yes she's still unpacking, after two days! We're here till a few days before Christmas, then we're going back to the Burrow for the eve dinner, but Harry, what on earth are you doing here?"

Harry blushed and didn't answer right away, and Gabrielle seeing his discomfort strode over to him quickly and put her arm around his waist, holding him close and turning back to Bill with a knowing smile.

Bill blinked, twice, and then a broad slightly menacing grin pulled across his handsome face, "oooooooooooh, now I see. How interesting. Something tells me Gabrielle did most of the pursuing, am I right?"

Harry nodded and Gabrielle giggled.

"I'd watch out for this one Harry, took me a week to see past her innocence, and notice that at the time she was testing me on my intentions for Fleur. Never met a more devious fourteen year old, and I grew up with the twins and Ginny. Oh and don't worry about me trying to get blackmail material, I'm sure the twins have already gotten it if both of you were at Hogwarts. Lee's still there right?"

"Bill, no one knows she was staying there except the staff...and Hermione."

Bill hummed in a non-committal way, "so you're saying that only Dumbledore has the black-mail material then."

"...we've been, discrete."

Bill snorted, "Harry, no disrespect, but I doubt anyone knows more of what goes on with the kids at Hogwarts aside from Dumbledore. But then again, he's got like a million portraits to inform him."

Harry looked up, "is that really how he does it? The portraits?"

Bill looked askance, "of course, isn't it obvious? I mean, I know how often you've been in trouble, can't tell me you've never heard Dumbledore talking to the portraits in his office, and you know how all the portraits like to gossip."

Harry looked thoughtful, "just never occurred to me. I just assumed it was something more... impressive."

Bill laughed, "actually in my experience the more clever you are, the simpler solutions to things are. Still, I've never been able to figure out how he seems to know who's at the door to his office. If it's a spell I've never been able to detect it, and there's no portraits on the outside of his office. Maybe the guard at the entrance, but the gargoyle seems less intelligent than the suits of armor. Or maybe he just transfigured the door to be alive..." Bill trailed off and by this time Harry and Gabrielle had sat down side by side on a love seat. "So, how long have you two been dating?"

Gabrielle giggled softly, "actually we're not dating."

Bill looked askance, "what, do you have some sort of... arrangement?"

Gabrielle shook her head and Harry felt his face flame in embarrassment again.

Bill looked thoughtful for a moment, and then it seemed to dawn on him, "you're not... you're not bonded are you?" Harry nodded and Bill looked shocked, "but, you're sixteen and fourteen! Isn't that young!?"

Gabrielle replied testily, "you're barely twenty and you're bonding to my sister."

"Yes, but we're getting married, and believe me, it was not a light decision."

"We didn't really decide though, it was more an accident, not that I regret it," added Harry turning to Gabrielle and taking her hand in his.

Bill looked stunned for a moment, and then slapped his forehead, "the second task! Of course, Harry you lucky bastard."

Harry chuckled, "no more lucky than you."

Bill smiled fondly, "no I suppose not. So tell me, what's the bond like?"

This time both Harry and Gabrielle flushed, "um..." Harry tried to reply but his voice caught in his throat.

Gabrielle swallowed her embarrassment and replied in a quiet voice, "it's kind of... personal Bill."

Bill scoffed, "come now, we're almost family and come next summer we really will be. You too Harry, after a fashion. You know how much Mum dotes on you, and now we'll actually be brothers in law. Surely you can give me a little heads up. Truth be told, it's the only thing I'm still worried about."

Smiling now Harry and Gabrielle regarded each other for a moment before turning back to Bill. "Actually," Harry finally said, "I don't think I want to ruin the surprise for you."

Bill looked a bit disgruntled, but let it rest, "fine then, that's pretty much what your parents said as well Gabrielle." Bill rolled his eyes, "you'd think there'd be a book about it too, but no. The only thing anyone will tell me is that I'll never be the same afterwards... bloody terrifying if you ask me."

Gabrielle giggled and said in a voice dripping with sensuality, "I certainly felt, changed."

Bill laughed at Harry's wide-eyes expression, "well in any case good on you Harry, I-" but whatever he was going to say was cut off by a shout of 'Gabrielle!'

Fleur had finally made an appearance and strode over to her, gathering her up from the couch and hugging her tightly, a stream of French flowing from her pretty lips. They left the room quickly (Fleur said 'Bonjour 'Arry' in a hurry as she left). Both Bill and Harry listened for a moment as their conversation turned to shrieking giggling and laughing.

Harry turned to Bill bewildered and Bill replied with a laugh clear in his eyes, "they're always like that. Can't ever get Fleur alone when they're together, Gabrielle being at school really turned out well for me," Bill sighed, "I swear they're as close as the twins sometimes. So, now that we're alone, I have to at least try to ask again, what's it like being bonded to Veela?"

Harry took a moment to consider whether or not to answer. It was true he barely knew Bill, but everything he had ever heard from the other Weasley children told him he was pretty much beloved. The twins said they learned initially how to prank from him, Ginny and Ron considered him a font of advice when they didn't want to talk to their parents about something, and something that Harry realized he lost before he could even appreciate it was made clear to him. Harry had no one to talk to about girls, and while he was greatly enjoying the two quasi-relationships he had with Gabrielle and Hermione, there was no one to get advice from. Ron, who Harry knew in nearly any other circumstance would be the first person he would talk to about his troubles was immediately out. Not only because Hermione was involved, but even if things had progressed more normally, the fact that Ginny caught his eyes made Ron a poor choice of confidant as well, not that Bill was better in that respect, though he suspected he'd be more understanding, he was after all the only brother who hadn't been bothered by Ginny dating. The most important thing was, Harry thought Bill was still young enough to be youthful, but old enough to know how to give advice, and as he made his decision he could feel all the things that had been bothering him well up in his throat, a veritable vomit of words waiting to flow out.

Bill's expression slowly changed to confused as Harry thought things through, and seemed just about to ask what was wrong when Harry finally spoke, and it was like a dam broke, everything spilling out, "Bill I have no idea what I'm doing. Being bonded to Gabrielle is the single most intense, lovely, terrifying thing I've ever done. I feel responsible for her in a way that I've never felt before, I mean I have to take care of her now, and we're in each other's heads, a lot of the time. We feel each other's emotion now, and every day the bond is stronger. At first it was like a tickle in the back of my head, but now I'm aware of her all the time, her moods, like right now I can tell that whatever she and Fleur are talking about is exciting her, in fact I'm pretty sure they're discussing sex... and she's just so... subservient to me. It's like she lives and breathes to please me, and I can't help but feel unworthy of that. And on top of all of that, me and Hermione are... doing things together as friends and Ron is so mad at me, I feel like I may have permanently wrecked our friendship, and he's like a brother to me, you're whole family is Bill-"

Bill looked shocked and said in an angry whisper, "you're cheating on Ga-"

"Cheating!? No Bill, Gabrielle flat out encourages me and Hermione, and um... uh... look, please I know this may be hard for you to talk about calmly, but I'm really confused and ever since Sirius died I've had no one I could talk to about this, and..." Harry hesitated and Bill gave him nod, "ok, so before Gabrielle and well before Hermione I um... realized that I actually really like Ginny, and I know she's had a crush on me for ages, and I would never want to hurt her, but before Gabrielle showed up I was all in a twist over Ginny and Dean dating, and now I'm in this relationship with Gabrielle, and that's for life, but at the same time she's practically trying to set me up with other girls, like she thinks I need a harem or something, but I would be totally fine just being with Gabrielle, but then Hermione's all 'we trust each other and were best friends so why can't we experiment seeing as Gabrielle is fine with it' and now I don't know how to feel about her, are we really still just friends, or is it more than that and even if it is how could I ask any girl to share me. I think about the way I felt when Cho was dating Cedric, and how much I hated him just for existing, and how undeserved that was, and how Ron must feel the same way about me now!"

Harry was standing now, running his hands through his hair pacing slightly, "and Ginny," he looked over at Bill with a pained expression, "I really like her, and in another world where Gabrielle and I never bonded, and Hermione and me were still just friends I would have asked her out by now, she broke up with Dean just before break you know, but now I don't want too, just cause I tried to imagine Ginny coming up to me and saying 'Harry I'd really like to date both you and Dean at the same time' and how awful that would be. Just pretending made me feel really jealous, so how could I ask anyone else to do that with me, but at the same time Gabrielle knows how I feel and she's trying to help, encouraging me to try! And I want to, I really do, but how can I do that to her, I don't know what to do anymore, and... beyond all that, just being near me makes someone a target. How can I do that to anyone really. I mean, there's nothing I can do about the bond, that's permanent, and everyone knows how close me and Hermione are if not the full extent. Either way she's already connected to me, but how can I knowingly put anyone else in danger like that?"

It took Bill a moment to collect himself from simply staring wide eyed at Harry with his jaw hanging open slightly and then he started chuckling, "Harry I hope you can keep a secret, cause I'm going to tell you something against my better judgement, because I think it relates."

Harry nodded slowly.

"I remember one day I was visiting over the summer and Fred and George came up to me with a rant eerily similar to yours, though a bit less... brazen. I wonder if you were aware who Fred and George dated during their last years at Hogwarts?"

Harry blinked, "um, wasn't Fred dating Angelina and George dating Alicia?"

Bill smiled wider, "sort of, they we're actually all sort of dating each other."

"...what?"

Bill laughed, "yes, that's what I said, well I'll have you know that they were similarly concerned, although part of it was, they were worried one would like one of them more or less, and there'd be jealousy and favorites and all that, would you like to know what my advice was?"

"What?"

"Just go with it."

Harry looked stunned and Bill laughed again, "Harry you're young, and now is the time to make mistakes and figure out who you are and what you like."

Harry nodded but looked unsure.

Now a sad look crossed Bill's face and he said, "Harry I'm going to tell you something I've never told anyone else, in my seventh year at Hogwarts I cheated on my girlfriend at the time."

Harry's eyes went wide and he gaped as Bill had been doing before, "you cheated?"

"Yes," said Bill darkly, "and I've never hated myself more than I did afterwards. The next day I admitted what I had done and we broke up. I'd call it the biggest mistake of my life, but it wasn't really, we weren't a very good couple, and it was unlikely we were ever going to get married, but I should have just broken it off with her like a man rather than do what I did in the heat of the moment."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because it's only cheating if you hurt someone. If Gabrielle wants you to muck around with other girls, and YOU are also alright with it (something you need to figure out on your own), and the OTHER girl is alright with it, then it's not cheating, so don't feel bad about Hermione. She's a smart girl, and quite a bit more mature than you by my... limited estimation, though of course with out actually talking about it with her I can't be sure, so you need to be. The most important thing is to never lie, or hide things. Solid relationships, something I failed to learn, are about communication and honesty. This is something Fleur taught me, and part of the reason I love her so much. That being said, Fleur brings her old school friends to our bed sometimes."

Harry went wide eyed again.

"Her parents too. They have a number of couples who occasionally spend the night. Sexuality is very open in this household. Fleur knew from a young age what her parents were up to, and has never had a problem with it, and even told me straight out she wasn't willing to give up her... relationships with her friends for me, not that I mind terribly, her friends are all girls and they're all lovely, so you see Harry, while what you're going through is admittedly a bit unusual, and perhaps," Bill cleared his throat, "not something you really talk about in polite society, but it is by no means unique. Dad has a Muggle phrase he uses every once in a while, 'there's nothing new under the sun' which applied here, that everything two or more people can do with one another has already been done thousands of times over thousands of years."

"Damn," replied Harry quietly.

Bill laughed, "yes, damn," Bill took on a wondering look, "I'm honestly not sure if it's a French thing or a Veela thing, either way I'm not complaining, and it sounds like Gabrielle is the same way, so I would't worry about her. As long as you're honest and show her how devoted to her you are, I think things will be fine, but that leads to the unpleasant part of this conversation, Ginny."

Harry swallowed, now very nervous. He hadn't exactly intended to talk to Bill about that, but once he was talking it was hard to stop.

"I'm going to try very hard not to simply give you the older brother perspective, but it's difficult. She's my little sister, and I would gladly dismember anyone who hurt her," Bill said suddenly very serious.

Harry nodded solemnly, "I would never-"

"I know you wouldn't intentionally, but... you're right this is a very... bad situation. Part of me just wants to tell you to stay the hell away from her, most of me in fact, but I know for certain, that she would never want me making a decision for her, of any magnitude. That being said, Ginny is a very jealous and competitive girl, and I doubt that she'd ever be fine with sharing anyone she ended up with. And I know for a fact that Mum and Dad would never be alright with it. They're very traditional when it comes to family values."

"So what do I do? Bill if you tell me to stay away from her... I will."

Bill's stare went from hard to soft and then he looked down and away, "I can't tell you to do that. I want to, but I can't. Harry, the best advice I can give you is to be honest and upfront and hope you don't get murdered."

"Story of my life," Harry replied dejectedly.

Bill laughed with only a trace of humor in his voice, "yeah well... "

"I mean seriously though, what could I possibly say? Hey I really like you, but I can't be exclusive because I'm bonded to a Veela and I'm also sleeping with Hermione, but that's cool we already agreed to break it off if I asked you out?"

Bill's expression remained neutral, "It's a good start."

Harry gave Bill and incredulous look, "oh come on, that will get me slapped!"

"Probably," replied Bill with a grin, "but it's monumentally better than showing up to the Burrow, flirting with her and then dropping a curse like that. In my experience women appreciate honestly, even if it's brutal, in the long run even if they react badly right away. In my estimation if you gave Ginny that exact speech she'd beat you up, curse you, not talk to you for a few days and then tell you whether to fuck off or not, and as you say she's had a crush on you for ages, best not get her hopes up first before laying it all out."

"Great."

"Harry, that's probably the best you can expect."

"I know..."

"I also think you're a bit of a slut."

Harry jerked his head up, "what!"

Bill was smiling, "not that that's necessarily a bad thing, I certainly can't claim any better."

Harry laughed, but quickly grew solemn again, "what about the danger?"

Bill's expression turned similarly serious, "can't let Death Eaters get in the way of living our lives, and that's all I'm going to say about that."

Fleur and Gabrielle chose that moment to re-enter the room, "'Arry," said Fleur brightly, "I am surprised and pleazed to see 'ou."

"It's nice to see you too Fleur."

"And, are 'ou treating Gabrielle well?" she asked hautily.

"Fleur," Gabrielle chastised, lightly tapping Fleur on the side, "I've already told you een great depth 'ow well e's treating me."

"Gabrielle!" Harry cried.

"'Arry, I tell my seester everyzhing!"

Fleur stalked up to Bill and pulled him bodily out of his chair by his collar and strode from the room, "I will see 'ou at dinner 'Arry, I was only fooling wizh you, I really am 'appy for my seester and you."

"That was abrupt," Harry commented after they had left.

"Zhey are going to go fuck." Harry spluttered but before he had a chance to respond, Gabrielle leapt onto his lap and ground down while kissing him deeply, exploring the contours of his mouth sinuously with her tongue, "I want to get een a quickie before dinner az well."



.:~:._.:~:._.:~:._.:~:._.:~:._.:~:._.:~:._.:~:.



Five minutes and a few cleaning and neatening charms, and one entering chime later, the thoroughly unsatisfied pair made their way to the entrance hall to greet Gabrielle's mother Apolline. She was as statuesque as Fleur, all long limbs with a small compact torso and narrow waist. Her beauty was slightly intimidating in a startling contrast to Fleur who just made you kind of giddy, or Gabrielle who made Harry think of the more Muggle version of fairies, all lively and cute. Her dress was clearly the height of fashion; it was a deep dark red the same shade as her lipstick and bright large rubies she wore in her ears, the dress itself falling to just above her knees and showing a good bit of cleavage up top. The rest was black, thick black belt cinching the dress, large black floppy hat, large dark sunglasses, and very tall black heels sending her towering over Harry's rather average stature. Combined with the paleness and silvery blond hair that marked a Veela pulled into an intricate twist at the base of her neck, she looked like she walked off the page of one of Aunt Petunia's fashion magazines.

She regarded Harry silently for a long while after greeting Gabrielle with twin kisses to her cheeks and a long warm hug. Harry rather felt he was being measured. Monsieur in their brief meeting had been relatively unconcerned with Harry other than his willingness to enter into the bond with his daughter and ensure her safety and wellbeing. Apolline on the other hand, was giving him a knowing, intrusive look not unlike that of Mr. Ollivader's; the kind of look where you just know that person can see straight to the core of you, and isn't going to be gentle in what they observe.

Harry simply stood there, trying not to blink looking her straight into her eyes, which he realized belatedly seemed to almost glow like ripples of sunlight in rushing gentle waves.

She nodded suddenly, "My 'usband will be 'ome soon, I look forward to knowing you better at supper, Mr. Potter."

"Of course," replied Harry suddenly, taken aback; he had expected her to make some sort of comment, "um, thank you for having me... uh-"

"Mrs. Delacour is fine."

"That you Mrs. Delacour."

"But of course, you are after all, something of a son in law."

"Right."

Mrs. Delacour smiled lightly, "until supper then," she nodded and left the room.

Once she was gone Harry turned to look at Gabrielle who was trying very hard not to giggle, "what was that about?"

"Oh, she's just giving you zhe royal treatment, wants you to know not to mess with 'er or 'ers. She doesn't really 'ave a problem wizh you or anything, een fact she really 'ad to convince papa to take me to England in the first place."

"The royal treatment?"

Gabrielle nodded, "she's minor royalty, 'er muzzers seester iz zhe Queen of zhe French Veela. She's somezhing like... four or five places from zhe zhrone, or she would be eef she were full blooded Veela."

"Wait, so you're actually a princess?" Harry smiled widely.

Gabrielle giggled brightly, "no, only zhe daughters of zhe Queen are Princesses, I," she posed dramatically, "am a Lady of the Court!"

Harry grabbed her hand and pulled her into a waltz pose, "my lady," he said warmly.

Gabrielle rested her head against Harry's chest and let Harry move them in a slight sway. She giggled again which Harry felt more than heard and she said, "still 'aven't learned 'ow to dance properly then?"

Harry scoffed, "I thought my moves at the yule ball were legendary?"

Gabrielle laughed for real this time, "legendarily bad maybe!"

"We'll have to get you lessons then," came a deep voice from behind them. They both turned suddenly to find Monsieur Delacour hanging his snow laden traveling coat to a rack on the wall regarding them both smiling broadly, "I am quite pleased to see you both, Harry you're looking quite at home with my daughter, I was admittedly worried at your initial reticence, but it seems my worries were ungrounded, I am glad to see you find happiness with each other, especially you Gabrielle, my lovely little girl."

"Oh Papa," said Gabrielle suddenly crushing herself to her father.

Harry caught Monsieur's eye over Gabrielle and said, "I love her, and can't even imagine being with out her now."

Monsieur pulled back from Gabrielle and went over to Harry clasping him by the upper arms, "that is all I could ask for her, please take care of my daughter. I knew this day would come, but I didn't expect it so soon. I am just glad it's someone honorable like you, Dumbledore thinks very highly of you by the way."

"Thank you sir."

"Please Harry, call me Monsieur."

"I will."

"Good, good, now I think I will go find my lovely wife and see about some dinner, I am quite famished."

Once again left alone Harry and Gabrielle regarded each other, "well that went well," said Harry after a moment, "he seems far more easy going. Also didn't he have an accent?"

Gabrielle laughed lightly and leant into Harry wrapping his arm around her back, her's seeking out Harry's waist, "'is accent only comes out when ee iz stressed. Ee always 'as been easy going as you put it; Papa once told me, zhat as a youth, 'ee could not 'ave imagined 'aving a more beautiful and wonderful wife, and more lovely and wonderful daughters, so now nozhing can get 'im down az 'ee's already won."

Harry chuckled and then whispered in Gabrielle's ear, "that's how I feel about you, whatever happens, it was worth it being alive just to have known you."

Gabrielle chocked back a sob and spun in Harry's arms to kiss him wetly. She emitted a soft whine and gripped Harry's hair so firmly it was in danger of being pulled out, "I love you," she choked out in-between bruising kisses.

"I love you," Harry said back in the private whisper reserved for a lover, and hoisted her by the bum just as she started to wrap her legs around his waist, bringing their heads even, and pressing their bodies as close together as possible. Harry stepped towards the nearby wall and pressed Gabrielle against it, grabbing her wrists with his now free hands and holding them tightly to the wall on either side of her head.

She keened at the submissive pose and began to grind her pelvis to Harry's torso as Harry twined his tongue to her's, less kissing and more open mouthed wrestling.

The pair was summarily interrupted again, this time by Fleur who giggled at them with a hand over her mouth. They broke apart and Harry lowered Gabrielle to the ground. Harry was embarrassed but Gabrielle just looked annoyed, "What do you want Fleur?" she asked impatiently.

"Just letting you know, supper is ready, and zhat you shouldn't let Bill see you like zhat. 'Ee still 'as little seester feelings for you from when you first met, and now your open sexuality 'as 'im very confused."

Gabrielle laughed, "poor Bill, what a burden to be surrounded by Veela and only get to fuck one of zhem..." she trailed off roller her eyes.

Fleur laughed, "Indeed, men, but alas, where else can one find decent cock?"

"'Ave you tried zhe chicken coop?" replied Gabrielle sincerely.

Harry who had been rather embarrassed to witness their saucy banter suddenly let out a bark of laughter, the two girls had apparently forgotten he was there and laughed anew.

"Oh 'Arry," Fleur said through her laughter, "I didn't mean to inflict girl talk on you."

"Yes, well, let's just say I didn't realize girls were so much more... brazen than guys."

"You mean guys don't talk about sex?" Gabrielle asked.

"We do... but not so directly, and never specifics. It's all, I met a bird over break, or you wont believe who I ended up in a broom closet with the other day. There's never details, except what the girl looked like."

"But 'ow else do you learn?" Asked Fleur.

"Most guys act like they don't need to learn anything."

Fleur let out a short dismissive breath, "merde, men can be so imbecile. Anyway, dinner iz ready and I've worked up an appetite wizh Bill, she finished with a wink at them, making Gabrielle giggle and Harry squirm uncomfortably.

They had dinner in a smaller more intimate room directly off from the main dinning room which could fit twenty two comfortably along the long ornate table. The room they ate in was square as was the table, with two seats on each side. The table was small enough that each couple would be forced quite close together, and all three couple immediately took advantage. Monsieur and Apolline held hands under the table, Fleur was practically in Bill's lap each with an arm around the other, and Gabrielle much to Harry's dismay insisted on keeping her hand on his thigh. At first she moved it back and forth slowly until Harry kept his right hand on top of hers to keep her still.

Two elves seemed to materialize up to the table with the food on a giant serving plate. The second elf transferred the plates of food to the table. Harry looked over and saw a bevy of food he didn't recognize. There was a something that turned out to be a soup, but had some kind of burnt crusted layer on the top that broke delicately when passed with a serving spoon. There was some kind of stew with large pieces of some kind of bird Harry couldn't identify. There was a plate of brown toasted spun looking things that turned out to be potatoes, but tasted lighter and sweeter than any potato Harry had every eaten. At the center, obviously being saved for last, was a series of pastries that looked layered and had a rippled frosting on top.

The elves passed out portions of the soup to everyone and backed away. Everyone had barely finished their first sip when Mrs. Delacour asked Harry, "Zo Mr. Potter, what career are you planning on after you graduate 'ogwarts? I want my youngest taken care of."

Harry nearly spit his soup out at her cold tone, and before he could recover Monsieur clapped Harry on the back from his seat adjacent to Harry's, "Don't you know Appoline? The Potter's were quite wealthy. Our daughter will want for nothing I'm sure."

Mrs. Delacour raised a tidy almost invisible brow, "old money zhen? Never 'aving to really earn anyzhing, like zhose unbearable Wizengamots my 'usband forces me to arrange dinner parties for?"

"Mama!" Gabrielle interjected, "'Arry was orphaned, ee lived wizh 'is Muggle relatives until ee was eleven."

"It's true," added Harry, "didn't have a knut to my name until my eleventh birthday when I got my acceptance letter, and before that I worked everyday of my life as a cook and maid and gardener to my lousy relatives."

Gabrielle laid her head on Harry's shoulder and soothed him with a her hand down his back.

"Apolline," Monsieur added gruffly, wiping his mouth with his napkin, "can't you see how happy Gabrielle is? Isn't that enough? Besides, we have plenty of money ourselves, Gabrielle will want for nothing either way."

Apolline let out a hmph noise and Monsieur brought her hand up to mouth and kissed it, said something low in French and she seemed to deflate slightly, "I'm sorry 'arry, I am just... I didn't expect to lose my daughter at fourteen."

"Mama, you deedn't lose me at all."

Apolline smiled now and looked a bit teary, "I know ma cherie, I know. I am just... coming to terms wizh eet all. Again 'Arry, I apologize, I just worry about my daughter."

"It's alright," said Harry, "if I had a daughter I'm sure I'd feel the same way, and we can split our time between England and France, it was never my intention to keep Gabrielle from her family."

Mrs. Delacour looked a bit contrite now, "of course not 'Arry, I 'ave truthfylly 'eard many favorable stories about you from Fleur and Beel. I just 'ad to be sure."

Harry smirked, "have I passed your test then?"

Mrs. Delacour laughed brightly, "wizh flying colors, Gabrielle, I am so 'appy for you. To 'ave found love so young, eet iz a gift wizhout compare. Your Veela must be singing."

Harry was suddenly confused by they way Mrs. Delacour had turned that phrase, seeing his confusion Fleur spoke up, "'Arry, all beings 'ave instinct, full 'umans included, which iz why Veela allure can work. As part 'umans and part Veela sometimes zhose instincts can oppose each ozher. Zhis iz true for all zhose who are part magical. We, zhat iz Veela, are 'appiest when our instincts are... what's zhe word, een agreement."

"That's exactly what I've been trying to tell English Ministry for years. They spend all their time hiding all the other magical races, they give no thought to their needs. They complain of Giant uprising, but they give no thought that they are depriving them of their natural work, they complain about Centaurs crossing their borders, but forget that it is their instincts to protect huge tracts of land. No offense Harry, Bill, but your country is a mess."

Bill nodded solemnly, but Harry was slightly stunned. He knew the Ministry had problems sure, he had even born the brunt of their corruption on several occasions, but had never thought that other countries might be different. There was not, after-all, a great deal of news about other countries in the Daily Prophet or Quibbler.

The rest of dinner dissolved into chit chat, but Harry was slightly sullen through the whole affair. He responded when prompted, but for the most part his thoughts were drawn to the Ministry. It was interesting, Harry thought, the difference between his anger at the situations bestowed upon him and the righteous indignation he was feeling now. It was difficult though, to think about anything realistic being done while Voldemort still loomed over everything Harry did. He wondered if Hermione had developed beyond her fanatical stance on House Elves, and if she perhaps had more involved things in mind for after school.

Harry's musings were drawn to a halt when Mrs. Delacour said to him, "'Arry, I wizh you would answer my earlier question."

"What question Mrs. Delacour?"

"What your planz are for after 'Ogwarts."

"Oh! Um... well I've thought about being and Auror, or maybe pursuing Quidditch professionally. I don't honestly know if I'm good enough to go pro, and even if I do the careers don't last very long, so I could always be an Auror after I retire."

Gabrielle spoke up quickly, "'Arry, don't sell yourself short, you're a very good flier."

"Absolutely," nodded Bill, "I still remember you flying against that dragon. Very impressive."

Harry smiled back at them, he never got the same squirmy embarrassment from praise about Quidditch or flying, "thanks, to be honest I don't remember much of it. It all ended up as kind of a blur."

Monsieur harumphed, "I hope you're talking about national Quidditch, I'd hate to see France do any worse in the world cup."

Harry laughed once, "Merlin, world cup, now I know I'm not good enough for that. Hell, I'd be thrilled to be second string on an English team."

"Well," Monsieur replied, "I'll be sure to let you know when trials start for French teams, you don't actually have to be a national to qualify, and even if you did, in France your bond with Gabrielle is legally recognized, so you could apply for citizenship if you wanted. The Quidditch scene in France is actually quite large," he bobbed his bushy eyebrows.

Harry smirked back, "I want to keep my options open, but i'm always open for... negotiation."

Mrs. Delacour laughed, "you sound like a business man 'Arry, perhaps zhat iz your path?"

Harry chuckled, "well, maybe, I did invest in a couple of friends' business a couple of years ago, and they're doing spectacularly."

"That was you!" asked Bill a bit loudly.

Harry winced, "oh... right... yeah that was me. It was my Tri-Wizard winnings. I... didn't want it anyway. Seemed tainted. I'd um... rather you didn't mention that to anyone else actually. I feel like your Mum would never forgive me for encouraging their joke shop."

Fleur made a throaty sound of recognition, "I love Fred and George, zhey are most amusing, and zheir shop iz wonderful. I love passing eet on my way to work."

"They've always been good for a laugh," Bill smiled wistfully, "Merlin Harry, you've just done so much for my family haven't you?"

Harry flushed crimson, "Ron's the first friend I ever made, and your Mum and Dad have always been so good to me Bill. As far as I'm concerned I can never repay that."

Gabrielle stroked her hand down the side of Harry's face, "eet's a good zhing zhat love iz not a contest."

"Agreed," Monsieur nodded in his rumbling baritone, "in my experience, love always grows if you let it."



.:~:._.:~:._.:~:._.:~:._.:~:._.:~:._.:~:._.:~:.



After dinner Harry found himself led quite quickly to Gabrielle's bedroom. Her haste only reguarded with chuckles from her parents and Fleur and Bill, 'open sexuality in this household, indeed,' thought Harry. Once pulled into the room, the door slammed shut behind them, Gabrielle grabbed him by the neck and kissed him furiously, "no more distractions," she whispered in between their bruising snog.

Harry, wanting to play a bit with her need grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around, holding her arms to her side by winding his arms around her, one smoothing across her chest, the other splayed low on her belly, spanning from the very top of her mons to across her belly-button with his thumb.

Harry took a quick respite from gently fondling Gabrielle's chest to drape her long silvery blonde hair across one shoulder, allowing him to bend his neck and bite and kiss her neck, making her go gooey in his arms. The material of her dress was silky and smooth, letting her supple bum draw sensuously across Harry's bulge, and draped lightly enough to show with intimate detail how hard her nipples had become. Taut little peaks that pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat and clit, as if they were all connected with a tether, pulled every time Harry suckled a particularly sensitive spot, and especially when Harry ran his splayed hand across her breasts, the hardness of her nipple yielding in a stutter of sensation with each brushed finger.

"Patience, Gabrielle. We have all night to satisfy our needs, but first I want to check out your room."

Gabrielle who knew this game well did everything in her power to tease Harry into giving in, the push pull of Harry trying to draw everything out, and Gabrielle doing everything to make him lose himself. With her arms pinned, facing the wrong way, and Harry's inexplicable immunity to her allure when he wanted it left only her body and her voice.

Gabrielle arched against him, rubbing her whole back to his front, "Mmmmmm, 'Arry, but I am zo wet, and you are so 'ard, we 'ave been denied all day 'Arry," she whined writhing against him, "I want to finish what we started on zhe couch, and zhe entrance hall, I want you to split me open wizh your 'ard cock, my pussy feel so empty, won't you fill eet up? Fill eet up until I'm screaming."

Harry shivered, and his whole body seemed to tense involuntarily. His arms pulled taut holding her writhing body against him own, but then he pulled away sharply. Gabrielle swayed, a little dazed at the abruptness. "Not yet," said Harry simply, as he backed against the door and peered around Gabrielle's room.

It was an explosion of pastels, mostly pink and blue. It looked like something out of a disney cartoon. Her bed was massive and four poster, with gauzy white curtains hanging down. They were currently unstrapped, and being mostly see-through did little to conceal the bed. On a pink chest of drawers sat a collection of glass figures. All ballerinas in various poses with pink tutus and white leggings. Hanging from decorative back of the chest was an actual pair of ballet shoes, also pink, their laces tied together allowing them to hang from a peg.

The wall was papered with a meadow, lined with trees and a bright mellow sun. A herd of unicorns grazed peacefully across the whole thing, occasionally disappearing behind a shelf, or into the border of a door or window, only to appear on the other side.

There was a low ornate table, pale blue, with a full tea service on it in white china lined with gold. Behind it was a set of shelves filled to the brim with books and stuffed animals.

To the right of the bed was a mirrored table, with an array of make-ups and perfumes, brushes and clips for her hair. Opposite the bed was a door, open showing a walk in closet with a myriad of dresses and gowns. Many of them small, and most of them girly. When Harry finally turned his gaze back to Gabrielle she looked a little embarrassed.

"I know eet's a little... young looking, but I stopped caring about zhe decorations after I began at Beauxbatons."

"It's..." Harry struggled to find a word for a bit, "very... girly."

Gabrielle slapped his chest lightly, "There's nothing wrong with girly, I'm a girl."

"I know, but... it's like something out Sleeping Beauty."

"Yes well... when I was six zhat's what I wanted."

Harry pulled her into a hug, "I like it."

Gabrielle laughed, "no you don't."

"No, really. It's cute, and girly, just like you."

She drew her arms around Harry's neck and stared into his eye's, "let's christen eet."

When her lips were just barely touching against Harry's, he spoke in a mumble, "the ballet figures, is that just an interest or something you did? I noticed the shoes."

Gabrielle sighed dramatically, and moved over to the figurines. "I studied ballet for many years as a child, but I deedn't 'ave time for eet at school." She adopted a calculating grin, "would you like to see?"

Harry nodded with a grin.

Gabrielle stood at attention and brought her ankles together just like the first figure on the left, her arms held in front of her belly, "first position," she said in a clear sweet voice.

She brought her feet out a bit and brought her arms out lightly, "second position."

She crossed her feet this time and brought her left arm back to where it was in first position, "third position," she said matching the pose of the third figure exactly.

Her right foot went forward and her left arm went all the way up in a graceful curve, "fourth position."

Her foot came back and both feet turned out, both arms now up in the air, "fifth position."

She extended her left leg all the way out to a point on the floor, and brought both arms up in a tilted curve, "croise devant."

Her left foot came back and the right went out to the side, her arms out from her sides in a long arc, "a la seconde."

She twisted suddenly and brought her right foot back into a point, her back arm curved up, the front sloping to the ground. Her gaze finally broke from Harry's as her neck arched gracefully to aim her gaze at the hand, "ecarte derriere." She seemed slightly flushed now.

She bent her leg back into the air and raised her arms, one up and forward, the other back and slightly down, again her whole body coming to rest in a series of smooth continuous lines, "arabesque." She locked eyes with Harry again, and he could see the desire there, knowing it was mirrored in his own heated gaze.

She went back to fifth position, leaped bringing her legs out straight and then back down into fifth again, "brise."

She bent her knees and somehow kept her knees and feet pointed out, "plie."

Gabrielle suddenly lifted her right leg straight up, one arm out, the other holding her calf to keep it pressed against her, pointed foot passing straight up past her ear. It was in this pose that Harry realized she had not been wearing knickers. He leapt from the pole of her bed he'd been leaning on and grabbed her round the middle, locking her leg against her chest, pressing his hardness to her softness, she gasped and Harry growled, "you're so bleedin' flexible." Her response was to extend her neck and kiss him sweetly once on the lips.

Harry bent his neck and bit her neck, growling, "how would you like to be tied up in this position against one of the poles of your bed?" Gabrielle's face flushed and she tried to answer, but it came out a whimper. Before anything could be done however, there was a loud rap against the door.

Gabrielle sighed heavily and Harry helped her lower her leg to the ground before she traipsed off to the door to open it. Fleur was standing there with a furious look, and before either Harry or Gabrielle could say anything she stepped into the room, cast a silencing charm, and slapped Gabrielle across the face, hard, and both of them staggered. Harry registered a moment of shock at how strong Fleur actually was, before filling up with rage, "Oi!" he shouted, but Fleur yelled over him.

"'Ow dare you lie to your mate zhat way! You 'ave broken one of our oldest laws, you're Veela must be weeping."

"What?" both Harry and Gabrielle started but Fleur wasn't finished.

"Don't bozher, Bill told me what ee and 'Arry talked about. 'Arry 'as no idea zhe kind of bond you 'ave formed, does he!? And zhankfully neizher does Bill. I 'ad to figure out what was wrong based on what ee did know, and zhen not show my outrage until I got 'ere. You are lucky I am such a good actress," she added blithely, "you know zhe Weazley's zhink of Harry as zheir own, and zhey would 'ave a 'ard time forgiving you for lying like you did, and you will be lucky if 'Arry does at all!"

Harry looked stunned at them back and forth for a long tense silent moment, waiting for some clarity to be shed, but one glance at Gabrielle with their eyes meeting and she broke down in tears and fell to the floor, sobbing out, "i'm sorry," over and over and eventually dissolving into a long string of French Harry couldn't decipher, but she felt mournful.

Harry went to her and gathered her into his arms on the floor, resting her head on his shoulder as she cried, and he looked to Fleur in confusion and not a small amount of resentment. What exactly had she lied about?

"Tell 'im, or I will," Fleur let out in a bark.

"I'll tell 'im, I'll tell 'im!" Gabrielle shouted through her tears, "just give us some privacy please?"

Fleur scoffed but Gabrielle spoke before she could say anything, "you can check wizh 'im een zhe morning, just... please?"

Fleur nodded once and turned to leave. Harry just rubbed Gabrielle's back and petted her hair until her sobs subsided, "I'm so sorry 'Arry."

"It's all right Gabby, it'll be alright, how bad could it be, really?"

She replied in a scared whisper, "bad enough zhat I could be exiled from zhe Veela community."

Harry placed his hand gently on Gabrielle's jaw and lifted her face to make eye contact, "Gabrielle, tell me. Nothing you say will change the way I feel about you."

She shuddered, "you can't promise zhat."

"Come on, you can tell me anything. Please."

"I love you 'Arry, truly, and not because of zhe bond-"

"I love you too-" Harry started, but Gabrielle cut him off.

"Please, let me get zhis out," Harry nodded and waited patiently, "I... I've loved you since you pulled me out of zhe lake. You're very brave, and noble, and for just zhat I would 'ave fallen for you. Eet iz a rare trait, eet iz not like zhe stories my Mama used to tell me, zhe world iz actually a very cold place, and most people are greedy, and false. Zhere isn't a false zhing about you 'Arry. You let your emotions shine zhrough, wizh passion. You're so earnest it breaks my 'eart, zhat zhe rest of zhe world can't follow zheir feelings like you do."

She paused for a long moment and looked out her window passed Harry's shoulder, "one of zhe possible side-effects of a bond forming iz dream sharing. Eet doesn't always 'appen, and no one knows I 'ad zhe dreams but you now. Een zhese dreams, I saw of your love for Hermione, and Ron, and Ginny. And Cho sometimes. And ozhers I don't know."

Harry's face flushed, wondering if there had been some sign that he had missed of Gabrielle's voyeuristic journey's into his dreamscape, full of moments so terrifying they still gave him chills, and others full of the nubile bodies of his friends and crushes. He wondered what exactly she had seen.

"I knew zhat I would 'ave ruined everyzhing, driven a spike zhrough your friendships, you would 'ave wizhdrawn from zhem, wrapped up een me and us... 'ad I bonded to you... traditionally."

"Wha-"

She looked away, "you see 'Arry, zhere are actually zhree types of bonds. Zhe most common, iz zhe one Fleur and Bill will use, which simply links zhe pair together inexorably. Fleur may bring 'er girl friends to bed wizh zhem on occasion, but ozher zhan zhat, Bill will never look at anozher girl besides Fleur as a sexual being ever again. Nor will Fleur een regards to any ozher man."

Harry understood immediately what Gabrielle had done, but let her finish speaking, "I... I 'ad us bond in zhe alternative way... where one party becomes... enslaved to zhe ozher."

Harry went cold.

"I... I knew 'ow you would feel about zhat, but I could see no ozher way. I 'ad to bond wizh you, but I could not let your bond wizh your friends suffer eizher. You'll need zhem... for your task." Her eyes flicked back to Harry's and though he felt his face was a blank slate she must have seen something because her look turned plaintive. He had pulled up his mental shield to her, so she wouldn't be feeling what he was feeling, which was a chill and a rise in his gorge.

It had dawned quickly on Harry that what she was saying was that it hadn't been necessary for him to own her, and while he had taken to it with passion, though her own joy at his possession of her had made it hard not to feel that way, he still felt slimy at the notion if he thought about it too much, and the perceived notion that there had not been any choice was no longer a calming note in the storm of conflicted feelings Harry felt about his ward.

"Also," Gabrielle said lowly, "I knew my own... proclivities. I knew zhat, I would 'ave no problem falling into zhat role for you. Especially you," she added looking deep into his eyes, the worry and unsaid question obvious in her gaze.

Harry stood and pulled Gabrielle with him, setting her on the bed and taking a few steps to sit heavily into the chair in front of her vanity. "I don't know what to say."

Gabrielle hiccuped, and started to cry silently again.

"That's... that's a big lie."

"I'm sorry," Gabrielle bawled.

"And you know how I feel about owning a person."

"I do, eet was zhe only way, I 'ad to fulfill my role-"

"ROLE!" Harry shouted, "You keep saying that! What role? Who decides your roll but you and me!?"

Gabrielle started crying in earnest now and Harry felt torn between his anger and his desire to comfort her.

"You fill me wizh your emotions 'Arry, from your dreams, and stronger now, I feel what you feel. Your love for Hermione is my love. Your love for Ginny is my love too." She closed her eyes and spoke the next bit as if in a dream, "when Ginny comes near you, your 'eart pounds, and zhe tips of your fingers tingle, and when she smiles at you, your belly swoops, and you feel such longing..." she trailed off wistfully, "I feel every single bit of zhat, as eef eet was my own feelings."

Harry's legs buckled and he sat on the ground roughly with a whispered, "god... I can tell your feelings from mine. Is that because of the type of bond we have?" Harry asked in a dead voice.

"Yes," she whispered, "Bill and Fleur will bozh experience zhe bond as I do."

Harry stood again, slowly, "I'm... I need to think," he walked towards the door and touched the doorknob, "I'm, going to sleep in a guest room, I'm-" he stopped suddenly, the thought of sleeping alone filled him with quiet dread. It would be so lonely. He realized belatedly the hand on the doorknob was shaking slightly. He flashed back suddenly, to before he knew he was a Wizard. He remembered a very special lecture from a constable on street safety. He had come to the school special to teach Harry's class. Harry remembered thinking the constable looked rather good in his uniform. Tall and proud, and air of authority to him. He spoke with authority as well, warning them of how to spot bad sorts like criminals, and drug users, and perverts. There had been a chart as well: The 12 signs of addiction. One of them had been trembling, another was feelings of dread at the thought of being parted from what one was addicted too, and Harry knew, with out a doubt, he would not be able to sleep comfortable with out Gabrielle there, pressed bodily to him, all soft and comforting, her body feeling as if it conformed to his.

Harry turned sharply and pushed Gabrielle flat on the bed with her legs hanging off. Harry pressed his body to hers and kissed her furiously, holding her head with both his hands, "I'm bleeding addicted to you," he said roughly, it came out as a neutral statement.

Harry stilled, "I don't need to please you do I? I could be completely selfish with you and it wouldn't matter would it? I could beat you blue, and if I enjoyed it so would you right?" Harry asked darkly. "I've infected you with my feelings, displacing your own, haven't I, turned you into a bleeding puppet," Harry was crying now, trying to will the tears back, but he couldn't control them, fat hot drops streaming down his cheeks, "I took away your humanity, I may as well have killed you, or imperioused you, or forced you to drink a love potion, I-"

"Non! Nevair, you 'ave done no such zhing! I am still me, wizh all my faults and positives, up here," she poked her forehead, "I am still me, I know zhat your feelings are being transmitted, I know zhat I would not be in love wizh two ozher girls were eet not for you, but what does eet matter. You 'ave subtracted nozhing from me, but added everyzhing from you. Your feelings wash over me on top of what I already feel, not instead of."

"But... but you'd do anything for me if it made me happy or I enjoyed it. What if something I want conflicts with what you want?"

"Zhen I would 'ave to choose."

"But it's like you said, my feelings are your feelings, so you wouldn't be just denying me, you'd also be denying yourself."

"People deny zhemselves all zhe time. Your friend Neville, ee denies 'imself all zhe time from insecurity. Hermione denies 'erself from 'aving more fun so she can study more. Your friend Ron denies himself because he fears failure."

"How do you know that?"

"I'm observant, and zhe Veela can sense zhings I cannot."

Harry laughed lightly, "how does that work?"

Gabrielle scrunched up her nose, "I'm not sure, eet's like smelling, but not smelling."

Harry laughed outright now and slid off of Gabrielle, pulling her into spooning, burying his face in her sweet smelling hair, "that doesn't make a lick of sense Gabrielle."

Gabrielle laughed but Harry had more to say, "I'm... very hurt that you lied to me," Gabrielle stiffened, "but I still love you."

She relaxed, "I love you too."

"Tell me what you want. I don't care about me tonight, I want to do whatever you want to do."

Gabrielle spun in his arms to face him. She put her hands up to his forehead, one tracing his scar, "let me back in," she said in a quiet voice, "and make love to me."

Harry relaxed whatever it was inside him that closed his mind to Gabrielle, and sucked in a breath suddenly. It had been like a muscle un-flexing, and his whole body relaxed, and Gabrielle felt so soft, and so supple against him as his head flooded with oxygen he hadn't realized he'd been denying himself in the strain to keep his mind closed.

The combination of his now buzzing head and the firm grip he had on Gabrielle's bum made him groan in exultation in the sheer intoxicating feel of her. THe warmth of emotion now flooding him was like a balm, sending pleasurable tingles all through him, delighting in the way Gabrielle trembled. Harry grew drunk on the inexplicably complex reaction to his grabbing her bum. There was a wave of heat just from his touch alone, but there was also a pleasurable arc of sensation that made Gabrielle flex her back, pushing her bum into his hands. There was an involuntary mewl, when he grabbed her she felt submissive and warm like being wrapped in a blanket. There was a tingle of excitement at just the thought of a boy, let alone it being Harry, liking her bum. Some deep seeded desire to be desirable being fulfilled. Harry wondered at his ability to analyze the feelings being sent through the bond better than his own. Her feelings were complex, but articulate, many disparate sensations all twining together into a narrative of sensation.

Rather than go through the trouble of removing their clothes, Harry grabbed his wand and vanished them, and re-appeared them in a messy pile on the floor. Tossing his wand on the bedside table Harry moved over Gabrielle and leant on his forearms, bringing his head down to kiss her languidly. Running his tongue against her's and pulling back to mash their lips together. Harry bit and suckled and sucked on her plump lips until she was whining and undulating against him, raising her pelvis to grind against Harry as he held himself above her.

Harry took most of his weight on one arm and used the other to trail across the side of her face blindly as they kissed. He smoothed down her face, to her neck, down to her shoulder, across a breast, down her soft belly, to her tiny throbbing clit, so hard and swollen it peaked through its intricate protective folds, laid bare for Harry to tease, pinch, roll, rub, pull, and play with.

Gabrielle thrust flat against Harry and she shuddered in a small sudden orgasm, not big enough to sate her, but just enough send her body into a series of racking flexes. Harry pulled his hand away put his weight full on Gabrielle, and he quite glad for his compact frame, as his weight was just light enough for the pressure to be pure for both of them, pressed as close together as possible.

Harry with his hands on either side of Gabrielle's face, holding her in place for his deep sensuous kiss, arched his hips back and forth, sliding in and out of his lovely Veela at a quick heady pace, Gabrielle gasping and groaning into Harry's mouth. Harry imagined he was swallowing her moans and groans; they had power over him, the sounds she made, they made him feel drunk and powerful and humbled and sexy as he fucked into her, using her own sensations to aim at that spot inside her that made her hit orbit with her climaxes. Harry thrust against that spot ruthlessly as she clung to him and screamed and cried, hands wrapped in his hair, legs around his waist, heels dug into Harry's bum helping him to fuck harder and deeper.

She came slow and hard, chanting 'yes' over and over every time Harry hit bottom, filling her, completing her, her pussy rapidly fluctuating from aching emptiness to stretched fullness, she rippled and clenched over and over, screaming and crying her pleasure to Harry and the world, she was crying again, in relief, whispering 'i love you' over and over, keeping Harry locked in place resting on her fully.

When her spasms and cries subsided she pulled Harry onto his back and knelt astride him. She asked him to leave his hands by his side while she rode him. Harry wanted desperately to touch her, but he managed, his hands occasionally twitching towards her breasts, bouncing and shaking at her actions. He wanted to squeeze and mould them as she fucked him, but he held back. There was something exciting about being forced to concentrate on not doing something while being shagged into oblivion.

Gabrielle kept tightening her pussy while she rose, and opening back up to suck him back in, like she was welcoming him home. The rapid exchange of tight difficult withdrawing, and the comparably exquisite gliding re-entry had Harry reeling. It felt like her pussy didn't want to let him go, but she was forcing it to anyways, just so he could feel the delirious satisfying sensation of returning to her warm depths over and over.

Harry came and they cried at the reflecting climax, Gabrielle having collapsed onto him, Harry thrusting like mad upwards into her, shivering and quaking in the mind numbing bliss of their shared climax.

When at last they came down, and returned to the land of the living, they cuddled for a bit, but it was still slightly early for bed and Harry wanted to write his friends before turning in.

Gabrielle volunteered to take his letters to the owlery to send to Dumbledore by way of her father's owl, which was a relatively common occurrence anyway, and Dumbledore had volunteered to deliver any letter for Harry for the sake of security.

So it was that an Owl flew through the night, across the English Channel, north to a grand old castle in Scotland, and through the window of the office of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, who had the letters delivered instantly and silently by a house elf who had been freed several years ago by the writer himself, who snapped his finger and with a crack no-one noticed delivered two letters in the quiet suburb Twyford, just an hour outside of London, in number 22 Castle End Road, and into the lap of a currently sleeping Hermione Granger, who would not notice the letters until she got out of bed the next morning and they fell to the floor.


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END OF PART ONE: The Allure of Veela
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HARRY POTTER AND THE EMERALD COVEN to be continued in...

PART TWO: The Voice of Reason
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