A/N: Hi, people. I've finally gotten into writing a full-length story. No guarantees towards my reliability, since it depends on my interest in what's happening in the story. But basically, Jean-Paul and Apolline Delacour were on vacation in Majorca with their two daughters, six-year old Fleur and the infant Gabrielle when they encountered the Dursleys with Dudley and Harry, both of them three. They immediately recognized him, and were appalled by the conditions that the Boy-Who-Lived was being raised in. The only legal way for them to quickly wrest control of Harry from the Dursleys was to betroth him to their daughter Gabrielle. It had to be Gabrielle because Fleur was already betrothed to someone else. The betrothal contracts are easy to escape and it served as a method to get him out of there more than anything. He was raised by the Delacours in France, but when it came time to send him to school, they decided to coincide with the wishes of his late parents and send him to Hogwarts instead of Beauxbatons, despite their serious misgivings about an idiot who could leave an infant on a doorstep in November in England, and then allow him to be abused and neglected for several years without looking in on him. Aside from the scenes that I'm going to show here, in a prologue of sorts, it happens through his first three years as in canon.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own any other outside references to other literature or media. Any and all recognizable content from the Harry Potter Franchise belongs to J.K. Rowling.

BTW, I've decided to go with Gabrielle's age in the movies (three years younger than Harry) rather than the books (six years younger than Harry). First of all, six years is already a large age gap between siblings, and the books portray the gap between Fleur and Gabrielle to be nine years. While this is entirely possible, it just seems less realistic. Also, it suited my purposes for her to be at Hogwarts with Harry during most of his fourth year, rather than just for the second task. This would mean that she would have to be eleven and enrolled at Beauxbatons. That is all. On with the story/travesty of human justice.

July 31st, 1991

Boom. The entire entryway of the large, stylistic mansion shook with force. Gabbi Delacour, the youngest member of the household, as well as the person with the bedroom closest to the front, shook awake at the noise.

Boom. Positive she was not imagining it now, she slid out of bed and pulled on her dressing gown and crossed the room to the door.

Boom. The third bang brought her fear to the surface, and she felt feathers pushing at her joints, her Veela form wishing to come out and protect her from the threat. The eight-year-old resisted the urge and instead slipped into the hallway and ran across the house to Harry's room. Several more Booms echoed on her way, the last one ending with a loud crash of wood being destroyed, just as she reached her betrothed's door.

"Harry," she squealed softly, not wanting to wake anyone else. She wormed her way under the covers and into his arms. "Harry, I'm scared. There's someone at the door, and they're making a lot of noise."

"Gabbi?" Harry blearily rubbed his eyes and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Midnight. That meant that he was eleven, but he didn't care at the moment, much more concerned about Gabbi. "What happened? Say more slowly this time."

"There's someone at the door!" She half-shrieked, half whispered.

Harry's head snapped around, now hearing the distant noise. Meanwhile, the rest of the house had caught on to what was going on. Harry kept himself in front of Gabbi as they walked into the entryway. There was a huge man framed in the doorway.

"Alright, Harry?" the man boomed in English, a language that Harry was entirely familiar with due to his adopted parents' plan to send him to an English school. Gabbi, having also been taught from the cradle to be multi-linguistic, understood.

"Who are you?" The heavily accented voice belonged to Jean-Paul Delacour, a powerful politician in the French Ministry of Magic. "Vhat is zee meaning of zis?"

The giant actually seemed to blush. "Sorry bout the door, Mr. Delacour. And I'm Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds of Hogwarts."

"Oh!" Harry's mother-figure, the gorgeous Apolline Delacour, put her hand over her heart. "I thought you weren't coming until morning! Why don't you come inside and we'll sort this out." Unlike her husband's tone, Apolline had been taught English from a very young age, so she didn't display the same accent that her husband had.

There was a flurry of activity in the doorway. Gabrielle's older sister, and Harry's in all but blood, arrived in a flurry of flowing silk fabric. Harry immediately shifted over so that he was covering Fleur as well as Gabbi. He wouldn't let anything happen to either his sister or his betrothed.

The giant looked sheepish as he picked up the fallen pane of the massive French door from the ground and fitted it back into the frame. "I was jus' excited, see. Haven't seen Harry since he was a baby. Happy birthday, Harry."

Harry sighed crossly. "Well, now that you've seen me, do you mind if I go back to bed?"

"Sorry," the giant repeated. "I'll jus' be goin. I'll come back in the morning."

"Don't be ridiculous," Apolline declared with authority. "You'll come and stay in one of the guest rooms until morning."

"Thank you, Mam," the man said.

"Don't be ridiculous, you must be older than me by several years. You must call me Apolline. Harry, Gabbi, Fleur, this is Monsieur Hagrid. He knew your parents, Harry. There are several things on your school supply list that we can't get in Paris, so we needed to go the London for them. Professor Dumbledore graciously offered to send us a guide to the Alley in London, in order to avoid confusion."

"Please, Mam- Apolline—" he added, as she glared at him. "Jus' Hagrid is fine. I'm no Monsieur. I aven't seen you since you were a little baby, Arry."

"Missy!" Apolline called in French. One of the house elves appeared in front of her with a crack.

"How can Missy be of service to the Mistress Apolline tonight?" the elf asked.

"Would you please show Hagrid to one of the spare bedrooms in the East Wing? Then we will all go to bed and commence this conversation at a more reasonable hour."

"But Apolline!" Harry called in French. "Gabbi's room is in that wing." Well used to his overprotective, White Knight tendencies, especially where his betrothed was concerned, Apolline simply sighed.

"Gabrielle is in no danger from Hagrid, Harry," she murmured. "But if it truly worries you, she can sleep in your room for the rest of the night."

Sighing in relief, Harry thanked her, echoed with a "thank you, Maman."

"Now go. Off to bed, both of you. We've a long day of shopping in the morning."

September 1st, 1991

King's Cross station was packed with people, all of whom stared with awe at Apolline and Fleur, who was just coming into her allure and had no idea how to really control it. It had the unfortunate habit of making all men other than her father and Harry, who had long built up an immunity by now fall at her feet at the most inconvenient times. Well used to this sort of attention, the Delacour family stared in exasperation at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Hagrid had neglected to explain how to actually get to platform nine and three-quarters, leaving all of them confused.

Except for Gabbi, who was clinging desperately to Harry's hand and hoping that something would happen to prevent him from having to go away. Harry was no more eager to leave her. Right at that moment, they were rescued (or doomed, in Gabbi's case) by a red haired family that walked by, a plump woman at the front of the brigade.

"Absolutely packed with muggles, of course. Every year. Now what's the platform number again?"

The red haired girl clinging to her hand answered. "Nine and three quarters, Mum. Oh, Mum, why can't I go too?"

"You're not old enough, Ginny. Now be quiet. Percy, dear, you go first."

Gabrielle perked up at this, having appeared to have found an ally in the same boat as she was. Apolline took charge. "Excuse me, Madam," she interjected politely, as the woman was directing a pair of red headed twins to the barrier. "We're from France, and our guide in Diagon Alley forgot to mention how to get on the platform—"

"Of course, dear, of course," the woman said cheerfully. "I'm Molly Weasley, these are all mine. I've got two more, too. Already graduated."

"Apolline Delacour," Apolline said gratefully.

"Now, to get onto the platform, you just have to go straight through the barrier. Best to do it at a bit of run, since people get nervous. Go ahead now, Ron," she added to the youngest boy.

The boy disappeared through the barrier. "Now, why not send the children through first. They can get to know each other. If one of them wouldn't mind taking Ginny?"

"Of course. Fleur—" the prompt was unneeded, since Harry's sister had already grabbed the red-haired girl's hand from her mother's and started towards the barrier. Harry lifted Gabbi, still so small, to stand on the lower level of the trolley in front of him and started towards the barrier once Fleur and Ginny had cleared the way.

On the other side, he found that Ginny and Fleur had already found the rest of the redheads and were chatting cheerfully. At least Fleur and the oldest redhead, Percy, were chatting. The twins were bothering their sister, and Ron was standing awkwardly to one side.

"And of course I find Veela to be absolutely fascinating," Percy was saying in a pompous sort of tone. "Not even the Imperius curse can produce that sort of reaction in people." Fleur cast her eyes to the open roof.

"It's quite difficult to deal with, see," she attempted to explain.

"Of course it would be. Why don't you have a trunk?"

"I go to Beauxbatons," Fleur explained. "We're just dropping Harry off; Beauxbatons doesn't start for another week."

"Hullo," Ron said sullenly.

"Hi," Harry greeted back. "I'm Harry Potter, this is my betrothed, Gabrielle Delacour."

"Harry Potter?" One of the twins repeated in shock. Harry sighed. He had already had a taste of his fame in the Leaky Cauldron when Hagrid had taken him shopping. He didn't even remotely enjoy it.

"Betrothed?" the other twin asked, equally shocked. "Looks like you can't marry him, ickleGinGin."

Ginny had gone as red as her hair with this statement. Surprisingly, since Gabbi didn't usually react well to people trying to take her Harry away from her, she leapt to the other girl's defence. "You leave her alone. That's a mean thing to do. I'm Gabrielle, but you can call me Gabbi," she added to the redhead.

"Ginevra," the girl said, echoing Gabbi. "But you can call me Ginny."

"Do you have anyone to write with this year, since you aren't starting school yet?"

"No." Ginny looked dejected. "I don't get to go till next year, and these idiots never send me many letters."

"Well you can owl me!" Gabrielle said with a forced cheerful tone. "Since Harry and Fleur are going away."

"I promised that I'd write you as often as Hedwig comes back," Harry protested.

"I know you will, but I still don't know what I'm going to do all day without you around to entertain me."

"I'd love to write you," Ginny interrupted. "But our family owl is practically dead. He can't fly to France and back—"

"Don't worry, I'll just tell Pierre to wait for a reply."

This was settled, right as the parents joined them. It sounded like Fleur and Percy had also agreed to owl each other. Harry hugged his father and kissed his mother goodbye before hugging Gabbi to him tightly. "I promise I'll write to you as often as I can," he said into her ear. Gabbi sniffled a bit, but promised the same.

Fred and George helped him and Ron stow their trunks in a compartment and wander off.

December 27th, 1991

During his first excursion around the school in his invisibility cloak, Harry had encountered a rather unusual mirror. It showed him with Apolline and Jean-Paul, Fleur next to them. Gabbi had been holding his hand, and beside them—his breath caught in his throat. A tall, dark haired man whose hairstyle was as messy as Harry's, and a gorgeous redheaded woman with sparkling green eyes, his parents. Logically speaking, Harry knew that if his parents had never died, he probably never would have met the Delacours; however, it was such a beautiful image that he came back every night until Dumbledore had told him not to anymore.

August 1st, 1992

Harry, Fleur and Gabbi arrived at the Weasleys' by Floor bright and early the day after Harry's birthday. Harry and Ron secluded themselves in his room, where Harry told Ron all about Dobby the House Elf's visit. Fleur and Percy had disappeared outside to talk about... something, and Ginny and Gabbi had reunited for the first time since they had seen each other on the platform in June with sounds that resembled small dogs being stepped on. A year of writing back and forth had solidified a strong friendship between the girls. Harry and Ron had stared at the doorway to Ginny's bedroom with dismay before sneaking past it.

The visit was relaxing—except for the shopping trip where Harry had accidently ended up in Knockturn Alley, and then being forcibly photographed by Gilderoy Lockhart—at least until Fleur had smacked the photographer around the head, given Lockhart a sound tongue lashing and pulled Harry away. The confrontation with Draco Malfoy, and subsequent fistfight between Lucius Malfoy and Mr. Weasley had seemed almost tame in comparison to what Fleur had done to Lockhart, before threatening to take legal action if he didn't apologize. Mrs. Weasley had lectured Fleur for her behaviour before Fleur had gone off on Mrs. Weasley, too. And perhaps made Mrs. Weasley consider that the kind of person that would manhandle a twelve year old like they were public property wasn't as great as she seemed to think they were. Fleur and Gabbi had gone home by Floo on August 31st, and Harry had gone with the Weasleys to King's Cross the next day, where the barrier had been blocked and he and Ron had flown Mr. Weasley's flying car to Hogwarts. Instead of the Howler that Ron had received for his behaviour, Harry had gotten a gently admonishing letter from his parents. That said nothing for the Howler that Gabbi had sent over him nearly getting himself killed by a tree, however.

August 28th, 1993

Unfortunately, the Weasleys had been unable to come stay at the Delacours this summer, since they had won some kind of lottery draw and gone on vacation to see the oldest Weasley brother, Bill in Egypt, instead. Hermione had come to visit for about a week with her parents, sightseeing all of the French Magical sites.

Harry was able to reconnect with his two best friends when they shopped for supplies, and then they didn't see each other until the train.

A/N: There's all of the things that would have changed majorly through the course of the first three books. Obviously, when Sirius offered Harry a chance to live with him, Harry declined, but expressed the desire to get to know him. Sirius went to France, and since the French ministry isn't as pigheaded as Fudge, he was cleared there. He spent that summer living with the Delacours. Remus went with him, and they hung out until Harry went to the World Cup with the Weasleys. The reason that I have not yet addressed Ginny's crush on Harry is because I am still possibly planning to do a G/H/G pairing. I haven't decided yet. Even if I decide not to, I'll just have Ginny's crush peter off and disappear. The real story starts in book four, which will begin next chapter. Assume that anything that isn't addressed here simply happened the way that it did in canon, on very similarly to it. If there is something blindingly obvious that I've missed, then tell me. Otherwise, use your common sense, people. I am not going to rewrite all of the Christmases, which I will have Harry remaining at Hogwarts for, since major plot points usually happen then, because he got a gift from the Delacours. Obviously, he has been exchanging letters with his parents, Fleur and Gabrielle this whole time. I'm not going to rewrite everything because of that, either. Oh, and don't worry about Percy. I won't be making this a P/F pairing. Bill/Fleur all the way. They're just friends, Percy because he liked the idea of having a French pen pal, and Fleur because she was happy to meet a guy her age that didn't start blubbering at the sight of her, which Ron will do when he's older, though he'll eventually start building an immunity. Can't start drooling whenever he sees his best mate's wife, after all.

Review and tell me what you think.

~I Took The One Less Travelled