Disclaimer: Harry Potter and the characters of Fleur and Gabrielle do not in anyway belong to me. They are the product of J.K. Rowling's imaginings and creativity. All I did was write this story.

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Without a toad, there is no prince
/ / / but all I want is a flower...

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For Gabrielle, every ball was alike. Whether they were coming of age balls, holiday balls, charity balls or as in this case masquerade balls. Always it was one chain of tedious suitors after another at these events. A line of thoughtless dolts who never seemed to realize that she was far too good for them. It wasn't that Gabrielle was arrogant, it was only the simple truth. If at at eight years old she had been an adorable doll of a girl, at eighteen she was now an absolute Venus of a woman. She liked to believe that most of her allure could be attributed to her own effort and only partially to the veela blood that ran in her veins. Regardless of where her charm originated, the fact of the matter was that these fools who were beneath her kept throwing themselves before her to be trodden upon, were because of it and she was rather tired of them constantly placing themselves underfoot.

She sighed because despite the mask, the fit of her dress, the silvery cascade of her hair and pale luminous skin were plenty sufficient in pulling the hopeful young men dancing about the great ballroom towards her direction. Finally after some searching she had found a safe haven. It was in the corner of the large room. While leaning back again the smooth, cool wall, a long table was set up perpendicularly meaning that in order to reach her, a prospective dance partner would have to take the long way around the some fifteen foot table. From here she could watch the twirling pairs and categorically divide the male half of them into "not in this lifetime", "only in their dreams" and "barely tolerable" groups. The last group being the highest ranked and still extremely rare of course. She didn't know why she bothered showing up at these events anymore but ever since... Fleur... had up and vanished one day all the invitations that used to find their way to her older sister seemed to find themselves addressed to the younger Delacour.

The younger girl hated that her sister had effectively abandoned her. She hated that the girl, no woman, she looked up to and adored never gave her any warning or told her where she was going. She hated that Fleur hadn't cared enough to do any of those things and most of all Gabrielle hated that it still hurt. Fleur Delacour had, for all intents and purposes, ceased to exist since six years ago. Twenty-one at the time, the beautiful part-veela seemed to have had everything going for her but had one day just disappeared leaving only a short note and taking just her savings, clothes and trinkets with her. The note had been brief, only saying she was leaving of her own free will and instructions not to look for her. Of course they had tried anyway but it had been to no avail. If Fleur had managed to elude the dark lord in the final battle during Harry Potter's seventh year then eluding them could hardly cause her any trouble.

At twelve years old, Gabrielle had felt that she'd lost all that was important to her. Her most precious soeur ainé whom she thought was the most perfect person in the world. Once extroverted and carefree, the pre-teen witch then became withdrawn and cold. The girls at Beauxbatons called her 'ice queen' and if the boys had been less impressed by her looks they would have too. She didn't care because her sun was truly gone. One of the things Gabrielle missed the most were the hugs. Fleur's arms were always warm when the wrapped around her. Compared to that, the boys she danced with on those few and far between occasions were frigid and clammy. She shivered, recalling it and as she did so caught something out the corner of her eye. A man in a mask, one of the many tonight and yet though their eyes met, he made no move to approach her. Curious.

He simply raised his glass in a brief a salute to her before he turned his face to make a comment to a woman who had just approached him. The mystery man had apparently been asked to dance. It was forward and Gabrielle thought, a little tasteless for a woman to approach a man but nonetheless it seemed the offer had been politely accepted. In her corner, Gabrielle found herself following this couple, eyeing the man's sleek form and elegant grace. Possibly, he could be filed under "barely tolerable" and maybe, if he asked in the right manner, she would grant him a waltz. Unlike the young nearly veela who found him a mere 'barely tolerable' however, it seemed that the other witches in attendance found him wholly acceptable and very much desirable and many were just as bold as the first pioneering young thing. So as it was, the young man's arms were not empty the rest of the evening.

Close to midnight, people started gathering together for the unmasking that would occur when the large clock in the hall finally struck midnight. Music was low now as the occupants of the room stopped dancing and crowded together on the dance floor for the big moment. Throughout that night, Gabrielle had been wondering about the face beneath the mystery man's mask. Although she told herself each time it was simple curiosity. Of all the men in the room, very few remained that had not asked her to dance. Funnily enough the same could be said about the woman in the room, regarding the you man and that, was what Gabrielle told herself, had her intrigued. He didn't seem to have a moment free.

Only a minute to go but the young part veela was surprised to note when she looked back from the clock that the young man was no longer there. Eyes darting discreetly around the room she saw him head out through a lace curtain enshrouded doorway into the courtyard beyond. Her first impulse was to follow him and demand why he wasn't going to show his face after she'd been waiting practically the whole night to see it but she realized in doing that, what she would be admitting. She was in no way ready for that. Biting her lip, with only thirty seconds until the unmasking, she warred with her curiosity and indiscernible pull. Ten seconds. In the end, Gabrielle always did what she wanted anyway. With that, she too walked through the fluttering lace and into the cool air waiting outside. Inside she could hear cheering and laughing as the masks had come off. Smug expressions of guessing right and shrieks of surprise acted to propel her away further away from the crowd inside and toward the quiet of the yard.

In the centre a fountain gurgled, quietly unaffected by the festivities going on in the hall and seated there was the gentleman she'd been searching for. He was seated only half facing her and his mask still hid his features, his one hand had drifted down to make patterns in the clear water while the other supported him on the fountain's edge. Although Gabrielle had made no sound in her approach he still looked up and smiled. This startled Gabrielle and at the same time, the flash of perfect white teeth also served to annoy her without reason.

"The clock has struck, you know." She voiced haughtily, even as still felt her own mask pressing into her skin. A gentleman would know to show himself before making any demands of his own and she would decide after seeing him whether he deserved that she show herself to him or not.

"I don't know if I should believe that since you're still hiding your face." An unseen flush behind the smooth porcelain. His voice was smooth... but a gentleman he apparently was not. It seemed he had no intent of removing his mask first either. Also, his accent was like her own. That smile had not left his face and now she knew why it had annoyed her. It was teasing, he was obviously making fun of her. It was all the mask would allow her to see. His mirthful smile and the amused shine in his eyes. They were familiar and infuriating all at once and like most woman, the latter mattered more.

"You can believe it or not, that isn't my concern." As she spun on her heels, a swift hand caught her and still wet fingers wrapped around her thin wrist.

"I was only teasing. Please don't be offended." The last word trailed before the contrite voice continued, "And don't go."

Gabrielle turned to see that the smile was gone and eyes no longer met hers.

"I forgot myself and let tease like I did before. I did not want to believe things must have changed between us, Gabrielle."

Shifting her body fully and in one full motion, Gabrielle reached for and flung the mask from the face before her. At the same time the other hissed as girl's nails caught her face in the haste but did not turn away. At last the face was revealed but Gabrielle had known even before that who must have been behind it as soon as she heard her name spoken.

"Fleur."

"You are more rough than I remember." Fleur commented ruefully as she rubbed her cheek which the younger girl saw now had some thin line of scratches lightly dotted with blood.

Six years. It had been six years since she had seen her older sister and yet Fleur had changed so very little except to have grown even more beautiful. Those crimson spots on her cheek almost perfect matched the ruby of her lips and contrasted almost sharply with the paleness of her skin. Her hair though shorter was still silky and shimmering, pulled back by a silk ribbon that seemed rough in comparison. How could she have mistaken her for a man? This she could not answer. Even dressed as one she outshone every female there that night. Even Gabrielle herself.

But perhaps that was Gabrielle's own bias. Her adoration for her sister has always overshadowed everything else. She could not stop herself from pounding upon her sister's chest when she remembered the short note and nothing else Fleur had left behind when she had abandoned their home. Her.

"Where have you been?" Why did you leave me? Why didn't you call or write? She had so many questions but all Fleur did was hug her back so close that her fists could no longer pull away to give to deliver anymore bruising blows. Also, Fleur was warm. Just as she remembered, her arms still fit just right. and she was scented with the same perfume. It was nostalgic, perfect and intoxicating. Her anger dissipated with her chill as she became warm, flush against her sister. Always, always, she'd...

"I love you." Gabrielle whispered into the taller woman's shoulder which she felt stiffen at her words. Her tone left no doubt what she meant. Her whisper had been breathless, taken and laced with lust.

"Gabrielle, no." Fleur had to be firm, for both their sakes. "It's the thrall."

The Veela's thrall. It didn't care about gender and the veela has no such thing as incest. That was an entirely human concept. However, that was where the problem lay because they were human, at least for the most part, despite the blood that ran in their veins. The Delacours lived in the human world, by human rules. French aristocrats of the wizarding world had no place for such relationships.

The thrall was something Gabrielle had noticed when she had approached her teens. Boys started gaping and could no longer hold a decent conversation with her. Their eyes would glaze over and all they could do had been nodding and agreeing with whatever she said – no matter how ridiculous. She had learnt though that she while she could never switch it off completely, she could control it to some extent. Make it weaker or sometimes stronger when she wanted it. It had however, taken a lot of practice before she had gotten it under control. Fleur could have taught her this, she had thought back then, if she had been around.

"How could you be enthralling me?" She asked breathlessly. If anything her sister would be able to control her veela gifts better than she herself could. Besides that, Gabrielle was not that weak-willed. Despite that thought, it was true that she had yet to let go of the older girl. That she wanted to feel more of her.

"This is why I left." Fleur continued, though she made no move to push her younger sister away.

"Because of your thrall?" Gabrielle was trying to pay attention to their conversation even as her focus drifted, being pulled away by Fleur's soft scent.

"...No, because of yours." It was a confession of guilt.

Suddenly things fell into place in Gabrielle's mind. The timing of Fleur's departure when her own burgeoning veela charms were beginning to appear. It had been subtle at first and she had not noticed it, much less tried to control it but her dear sister whom she followed everywhere must have noticed it. Fleur must have been bombarded with every surge and worn down by her constant presence.

"You should have told me." Not that Gabrielle knew what she might have done if Fleur had said anything.

"And then?" Of course Fleur had to question her.

"Then… I would not have made you hold back."

Fleur looked sharply at her then. "You were twelve, Gabrielle. I was twenty-one." She snapped.

Gabrielle rolled her eyes then. "And now I am eighteen and you're twenty-seven. So?" Her voice gentled, "Fleur, you wouldn't have done anything."

"You don't know that." The older girl huffed but her adamant tone was gone because really, she wanted to believe that was true. In any case, she felt a reassuringly normal sort of fondness for her younger sister then, that the young girl still believed implicitly in her to do the right thing even when Fleur herself didn't know if she could have managed it.

There was silence between them as both deliberated on what to do next. There was unspoken tension between them. Fleur felt it because 'normalcy' never lasted long enough and Gabrielle because the person she had been missing for a decade was finally back...

"I should probably go." The woman Gabrielle loved finally broke in as she extricated herself from the younger girl's arms. Before she did something she'd regret was the unspoken sentiment that they both knew followed those words.

"No!" Gabrielle reached out and took possession of Fleur's pale hand. "No." She said firmly as she consciously let her veela powers flare a little.

"Gabrielle." Fleur stiffened as she felt the effects of her sister's powers. "What are you doing?"

"I'm stopping you from leaving."

"By using your powers on me like you do all those meaningless suitors of yours? Is that how I rank in your heart, as low as those fools?"

"No. It's different because you love me already. You want to be with me, I'm just making you do what you already want to do." She gently stroked the scratch she had given the older girl earlier with a single finger as if trying to soothe a frightened foal about to flee.

"You do want to be with me, don't you?" Her voice was lilting and soft. Fleur's eyes closed and she exhaled.

"I do." She answered. Her eyes opened again just before she dipped her head down to touch her lips to Gabrielle's even as the smaller girl's arms wrapped around her waist to claim what was hers all along.

Fleur would never be able to leave her again.

End.

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&Notes: I know I totally took liberty with how the girls are able to control their Veela powers but it's fanfiction for a reason folks and that's sort of my re-envisioning of it. As you can see Gabrielle has no qualms about using her powers on Fleur, it's really up to a reader's own interpretation whether Fleur is staying of her own will or not.