Harry and Gabi

by muggledad

Does love really withstand all? Can they truly complete each other while navigating the deadly life that others build around them? Harry/Gabrielle

2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Summer after Fourth Year

"Damn."

Harry collapsed on his bed at Chateau Delacour. His arms akimbo, legs lying at odd angles, he tried to will himself into a more comfortable position, but his body overrode all other impulses and he didn't move.

Sensei Taguchi had just used the Potter Lord's body as a punching bag for the previous hour. Harry had taken six roundhouse kicks to the ribs, two to his head, been hip thrown most painfully and been the unlucky recipient of a solid left-handed jab that had broken his nose.

They had paused long enough to cast a quick Bone Knitting charm. He'd finally learned that one out of necessity.

To be fair, Gabrielle and Fleur had been beaten just as soundly as he had. Harry had scored quite a few solid hits on their instructor as well. He wasn't sure, but he might have broken the man's leg.

However, he still had a coppery taste in his mouth. Blood left a nasty aftertaste.

.oOo.

He'd been in France for three weeks now and it had been the best three weeks of his life. Sensei Taguchi had come two days after the portkey had dropped Marie, Fleur, Gabrielle and Harry on the front lawn of the Delacour family summer home.

His first day in France had been frenetic. The portkey had deposited them on the smooth front lawn of Chateau Delacour, which the family called White Rock. Before he even got his balance, Harry felt the warm summer sun on his neck, the humid Mediterranean breeze on his face and the tangy smell that most people associate with the ocean filling his senses.

"I hate portkeys," he grumbled and for a fleeting moment a look of self recrimination covered Marie's face.

Replaced with a mild amusement, she called out in a mock imperious tone, "Mes enfants, quickly, change your clothes and we are off." Marie sauntered into the house and called for the head house elf, Blinken. Harry followed Gabrielle and Fleur's lead by extracting his shrunken luggage from his pocket and setting it on the ground.

The house was massive. Its façade was constructed of what appeared to be white marble, if such a thing was possible. Harry didn't know there was this much white marble in the world until now. The three story mansion had enormous floor to ceiling windows that were all thrown open to let the land breeze waft its way through the house. The immediate grounds surrounding the house were immaculately groomed and there was a hint of a formal garden in the rear of the home.

Harry stood transfixed at the sight of the beautiful sight. Fleur caught his gaze and said, "White Rock has been in Papa's family for two hundred years. It had belonged to le Comte d'Orleans, but during the Revolution, he decided that London was more conducive to his long term health and our however many great grandfather purchased the estate. At that time, this whole area," here she swept her hand in a circle to indicate the general Cote d'Azur, "was an agricultural and fishing area. We are about thirty miles southwest of Nice on the coast road. Apparently le Comte had an affinity for growth areas" and they all smiled at her humor.

"As it stands," Gabrielle continued, "There are one hundred and fifty acres all told for the grounds. We used to have horses, but well..." and she trailed off with a sad look. Gabrielle looked at the house appraisingly and said, "Since our family purchased the home, every generation of Delacours has added to the wards. It's one of the more safe places in all of France." Her face hardened, "With that monster returned, though, I imagine Papa will have some upgrades done." The other two nodded at the conclusion of Harry's bond mate, sad that such a thing was necessary.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, Gabrielle took Harry's arm and steered him toward the house. She leaned into him and said, "This is the time where Mama takes us for a very quick summer clothes shopping expedition. She hates shopping; I think she is the only woman on the planet who sees it as a necessary evil and not an exquisite event to be savored and enjoyed."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the description. When he and Gabrielle had been shopping in London, both times had been leisurely affairs just as much about enjoying the day together as purchasing clothes. "If she wasn't somewhat modest, I think she'd go without," the young part-Veela finished with her tinkling laughter.

They walked into the house and a few pops behind them announced that the family elves had collected their luggage and taken it to their rooms. Gabrielle raised her eyebrow when Marie said, "Harry, your room is on the second floor," turning to Gabrielle she informed her daughter, "He's in the Green Room."

As they went upstairs, Gabrielle gave Harry 'a look' and with a grin, she explained. "The second floor is for the family; guests are on the third floor"

With a wondrous smile, he followed the lithe form of his girlfriend up the stairs.

.oOo.

Four hours later, the three Delacour women and a frazzled Baron Potter staggered back into the entry foyer of White Rock. They were burdened with a complete summer wardrobe for each of the young adults. Marie proceeded to the main drawing room and flounced into a high backed chair. She sighed in relief as the teens dumped their purchases on the floor and the house elves once again popped in to relieve their family members of the clothes.

Henri was not at the spacious home and would not make an appearance until the end of their second week there. A note addressed to all arrived with some news and direction.

Marie relieved the owl of its burden and absently fished in her purse for an owl treat. Blinken popped in right next to her and gave the owl its treat. He gave a quick smile to his mistress and with a bow, popped out. Marie smiled and began reading.

Harry leaned back into the comfortable couch and closed his eyes letting himself relax for the first time in quite a while. He wouldn't admit it, but he had been under quite a bit of strain in the days and weeks leading up to the third task. With his oh-so-wonderful experience at the end of the task, well, he was having quite a hard time letting his guard down.

A soft hand pushed him into position and Gabrielle laid her head on his shoulder, wrapping her free hand around him. Wrapping his own hand around her shoulder, they sat there and Harry could feel the tension begin to ebb out of him.

He didn't know much about love or relationships. His example had been child abusers. One lesson he had learned from Hermione and now Gabrielle and her family was an important one: emotional and physical safety. He felt fairly safe here at White Rock.

A throat clearing brought the two young lovers out of their restful daze and Harry saw Marie holding out the letter she had just received.

Silently taking the letter, he held it so he and Gabrielle could read it.

Dearest,

I have been quite occupied here. At the news of the Dark Lord's rebirth, some have been horrifically blasé. They obviously do not remember the swath of destruction his Death Eaters created during his last terror campaign.

At the Privy Council meeting, the Minister and the other department chiefs watched my memory of Harry's experience in the Auror Chief's pensieve. When we finished the memory, all of us were pale and shaken. Marcel Beaufort, the Interior Minister, ran for the lavatory and was promptly sick. When we had collected ourselves, there was a wonderfully decisive meeting. Monday, the Minister is approaching Le Confederation Magique for a wartime footing declaration. Please tell Harry that he may be needed as a witness for this convocation in order to verify the memory's accuracy and answer any questions not immediately evident from the memory.

Magical Law Enforcement is calling up all reserve Aurors and increasing recruitment efforts. I heard MLE and Magical Research discussing time compression methods in an attempt to push Auror recruits through the training faster.

All this is good, and I have more news that I must force myself to consider as good news as well. I asked for and obtained from Denis Cleary, our chief Auror trainer, a list of personnel he could suggest to train our three summer residents in the practice of defending themselves. Sensei Taguchi will be arriving via Floo first and will teach non magical combat. He will be staying the summer. Martin Beaucort, a retired Auror will arrive in two weeks and work on magical combat, he shall Floo in daily. I have prevailed upon Madame Maxime to allow (and coerce if necessary), Madame LeCroix and Monsieur Trevail to tutor our threesome in some advanced Charms and Transfiguration. I have not heard the results yet, but I expect success and soon. Olympe is fully aware of the need.

I am sorry that it was necessary for me to leave immediately that night. I wish I could have been of more direct use to you, Fleur, Gabrielle and even Harry; he seems like a good solid lad for our Angel. I shall be home the week after next. The Minister has decided that we need to establish closer ties to Britain and also sound the alarm in a joint declaration from France and the UK. None of us want the expected conflict to spread (too much) to the Continent.

I love and miss you

Henri

Obviously, more was said in some of the wonderfully vague or unfinished sentences throughout the letter, but the stated items were relieving to Harry. At least the French were taking him seriously. Before they left Hogwarts, he had no idea if the British Ministry was going to act on his experience. DMLE Director Bones and Foreign Minister Decatur had both interviewed him, but Fudge was still acting like an opium addled old fool.

Underneath his relief at the French Ministry's reaction there was a current of fear. This was all real, not some wacko dream that had sprung from his subconscious and would fade away in the harsh noon light.

He was very much looking forward to the extra training and from the look of it, Henri Delacour wanted his girls involved as well. It seemed that no matter what happened in his life, Voldemort would be involved, mucking about and making a general nuisance of himself.

When Gabrielle relaxed back on his shoulder, he handed the letter to Fleur who read it in her turn. Settling back on the couch with his girlfriend tucked into his side; he decided that some things can wait until tomorrow.

Harry went up to the Green Room that evening and passed out as his head hit the pillow. The tension, the activity all of it caught up to him and bore him down like a twenty foot wave.

.oOo.

The next morning he woke, swimming up to consciousness to a little slice of heaven. The windows had been opened around sunrise and the fresh, warm breeze wafted into the room spreading a delicious scent; the combination of the sea and a flower that Harry couldn't pinpoint, yet was mysteriously wonderful.

He dressed in shorts and a new shirt. Barefoot, he padded down to breakfast. Kissing Gabrielle on the top of the head, he plated up a hearty breakfast from the sideboard and sat next to her while Marie and Fleur split the newspaper.

Fleur had the front page section and from his vantage point, Harry could see POTTER WINS TRIWIZARD AND DISSAPPEARS followed underneath by YOU-KNOW-WHO RESURRECTED. Harry snorted in disgust before digging into his eggs.

He looked up and saw Marie watching him with an elegantly shaped eyebrow raised. He nodded at Fleur holding the paper and answered the unspoken question, "Cowards won't even say Voldemort's fake name." She seemed to consider his statement for a bit, her face troubled before resuming her reading.

"Harry," asked Gabrielle, "Is there someone to whom you should write a note regarding your whereabouts?" as she nodded to the paper Fleur was reading.

"Not the Dursleys," he answered in an undertone. Rubbing his jaw he didn't notice all the Delacours' faces darken at that name.

"Dumbledore?" continued Marie.

Harry almost spat out "Screw him," but caught himself in time. "I suppose I should write my godfather and let him know." He traded a knowing look with Gabrielle who shook her head imperceptibly. She had not told her family about Sirius and his innocence.

"Oh, good, dear. Who is your godfather?" Marie asked as she resumed her section of the paper.

With a grin his father would have been proud of, Harry waited until Fleur had taken a sip of her coffee and he replied in an offhand tone, "Sirius Black."

Fleur spit her coffee. Marie tore her paper in half in her haste to pull it down and Gabrielle laughed so hard she fell off her chair.

"What!" the elder Delacour women shouted.

Through his laughter Harry explained the events of Halloween 1981 and the following day, as well as, the saga that was his third year.

Marie frowned again, for a different reason this time. "Well, feel free to write to him. Let me talk to Henri before you give him the Floo address, though."

Blinken popped into the Breakfast Room and announced, "Monsieur Jean-Paul DeGaulle to see Mademoiselle Gabrielle."

Harry turned to Gabrielle just as she wiped a look of surprise off her face. Without looking at him, she stood and left the room

Harry glanced at the remaining two women and saw them exchange a fleeting look. Losing his battle with impatience and a sudden swelling of jealousy, Harry asked, "Would either of you two mind explaining what is going on?"

Fleur shot a quick look at her mother and replied, "Jean-Paul is a long time acquaintance of Gabrielle's."

"Oh."

Harry slowly rose from the table, dropped his napkin saying, "Breakfast was wonderful, thank you Madame," and walked out of the room.

His feet took him out into the garden in the back of the house. With a cursory glance, he saw the beauty of the artistic planting, cultivation and pruning of the beautiful plants. Instead of savoring the beauty, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and prowled the paths like a panther stalking for prey.

In his heart, he was torn by the conflict between his common and uncommon sense. He wanted to believe what his heart was screaming at him; Gabrielle would never cheat on me, she would never leave me, she loved only me.

Some other part of him had sprouted horns and was whispering in his ear. She really didn't want the useless freak from under the stairs. Who would after all?

He walked for a bit, not knowing where he went. The longer she was occupied with Jean-Paul what's-his-name the louder and more insistent the whisper became in his ear.

Finally, he turned a corner and Gabrielle was walking toward him. She saw him and her face brightened, relieving quite a bit of his anxiety.

She ran up to him and enfolded him in a warm, firm hug. Surprised, Harry hugged her back and felt the envy and jealousy drain out of him even more. "I'm sorry mon cher," she said.

"For what?"

"When I had finally escaped from the barely polite discussion with Jean-Paul, Mama and Fleur both excoriated me about just leaving the table without an explanation or backward glance. I did not think that you might, rightly, wonder who the man calling on me might be. I'm sorry."

Rubbing her back, he mocked himself for ever thinking badly of her. "I'm sorry, too. Back at school, you got so many looks, but not too many guys tried chatting you up. I guess with me standing there and all it was a bit of a discouragement to them. It never really occurred to me that I had competition. I'm sorry for not being more trusting." He tucked his head into her neck to hide his burning cheeks.

They stood there for a few moments before she continued, "There is no competition for you in my heart. I love you and only you. Jean-Paul and I were playmates as children. He was nice enough, but a bit of a braggart. His great-Uncle was President of France," she said in a mocking tone with raised eyebrows.

"When we reached our teen years and both of us went to Beauxbatons, he assumed that I would be his girlfriend, going so far as to announce it in the boys dormitory during first year."

Harry winced at that. "Did you hurt him badly?" he asked in a humorous undertone.

With a smirk, she answered, "Yes. Let's leave it at that, shall we? Anyway, after that - incident – shall we call it? I have been no more than rigidly polite to him. He still refuses to accept that I am not deeply in love with him and want to bear twelve of his offspring." She sighed and whinged, "Sometimes, I just want to hex him into the next century. I really do."

With a smile and a nod he pulled her close. After a moment she pulled back and looked him in the eye. With a very serious expression, she declared, "I am yours. Mind, body and soul. Yours for all eternity and you are mine. I love you."

Harry bent and kissed her with all the passion and emotion that was whirling in him. The intensity of the moment started the wind to blow around them and after a few moments they broke the kiss and held each other, trying to catch their breath.

"This is a really beautiful garden," he commented to her with a smile.

.oOo.

After lunch, Sensei Taguchi arrived and talked to the three teens about their training and what it would entail. He handed them lists of the exercise they were to do outside of the formal training sessions and explained the reasons behind the tasking.

"Most magical persons are lazy," he bluntly explained. "They use magic for everything and forget or ignore their body. Not only can you use your body as a weapon, but by conditioning your body, you will increase your magical stamina. Some witches and wizards even get a mild boost in overall magical power."

Nodding at the logic, the three students read their lists and eyes widened. In front of them was an exercise regimen that was appropriate for a triathalete who was ramping up for an event.

"Tomorrow, we will begin with basic katas and the most important lesson that I will impart to you this week: how to fall. Do your exercises alone or together, I care not. Just do them." The man rose, half bowed to his students, who rose and returned the gesture. Blinken popped in and escorted the Sensei to his room.

"So, do you all want to work out together? Pour encourager les autres?" Harry asked with a smile.

Fleur looked at him with a beady eye and corrected him, "Wrong use of the phrase, mon frère, but yes, I think we should exercise together." Gabrielle nodded in assent.

"Great. Before breakfast then?"

"Sure."

"Yes."

Gabrielle asked, "What are you doing for your NEWTs?"

Fleur made a face and replied, "Next week I'll take them at school. Papa got me a waiver to take them at a different time than the rest of my class."

"So, lots of studying for you this week?" Harry enquired.

Fleur waved her hand in a 'so-so' motion. "I've been revising all term. I feel fairly confident in my topics; I really just need to review some of the history topics and some Transfiguration theory. I will be ready. I hope," she finished with a sigh.

Fleur stood and went up to her room, presumably to study. Gabrielle tugged her bond mate out of his chair and asked, "Do you know the Sunscreen charm?"

"Yes."

"Good, go put on your swimmers and we will go to the beach."

The beach was beautiful. Something out of an advertisement for the Cote d'Azur. Harry didn't see much of it. He tried not to stare, he really did. But as his laughing girlfriend reminded him, he was male after all.

After a few hours of surreptitiously ogling his bond mate, he and Gabrielle returned to the house to find Marie waiting for them on the Veranda.

"Your father has obtained permission for you to use magic outside of school," she informed her daughter as she handed Gabrielle a piece of parchment authorizing said behavior. "You also have some homework" and she waved her hand to the two stacks of books on the table. "Start reading and practicing what you find. Speed is essential in this case."

Since they had a few hours before dinner, they quickly cleaned up and started reading. Harry took Transfiguration Explained, while Gabrielle selected Charms for the Charmed.

So began their accelerated magical training for the summer. Madame LeCroix and Monsieur Trevail arrived a few days later and both put Harry through his paces, to see where he stood. As expected, he was at a post fourth year/mid fifth year level for Transfiguration, but was at the end of sixth year with a smattering of post NEWT charms in his quiver.

.oOo.

(International Magical Tribune Headline)

FOUR BRITISH MUGGLE FAMILIES TORTURED TO DEATH

DEATH EATERS BELIEVED RESPONSIBLE

.oOo.

Monday arrived and with it his testimony in front of the French magical legislature, Le Confederation Magique.

He first felt the tingle of magic in his mouth of all places that morning. The tingle was shortly followed by soft lips on his own. He tried not to smile, but had a little fun anyway.

Pulling back a bit, he groaned, "Oh, Fleur."

The lips were promptly removed and a sharp crack on the side of his head woke him fully.

Laughing, he opened his eyes and squinted. Even through the haze of his farsighted vision, he could tell Gabrielle was standing next to his bed, her arms crossed. She smacked him again, only increasing his laughter. He grabbed his glasses and saw her struggling to maintain a stern expression.

Reaching for her, he said, "I'm sorry, it was just too funny."

"See how funny it is when you want some more Gabrielle kisses lonely man."

Pouting, he sat up and gathered her into his arms, "No more kisses?"

"Non."

He kissed her neck and she responded by wrapping her arms around his neck with a groaning sigh.

"Are you sure?"

Her response was muffled by their lips joining.

.oOo.

An hour later, he was washed, dressed and being inspected by all the Delacour ladies. Marie had picked out his outfit the night before so that only needed some straightening.

Fleur was pulling at his robes, fussing with the way they lay off his shoulders. Marie was standing back, evaluating the entire package while Gabrielle walked around him, looking at his hemlines and the finer points of his dress. He felt like a side of beef being inspected by quality control. At some point, he'd lost track of who was commenting on what part of him.

"His hair is cute, but there must be a way to tame it."

"The glasses either need to be replaced or he needs the potion."

"I like the hair, it gives him character."

"The robes look good on him. Small amounts of bright colors livening up dark. It works well on him."

"Those shoes will do for today, but he needs different ones for the future."

And so it went.

Finally, he was released from their scrutiny and given a portkey for Paris so as to be whisked away. A stumbling landing in Henri Delacour's spacious office later, he was greeted by the man he hoped would be his father-in-law someday.

Standing from his desk, the older man said, "Come, Harry. Your testimony starts in twenty minutes."

It was a short walk to a rotunda style amphitheatre that housed Le Confederation Magique. Henri led the young man to a large table that faced the most ornate section of the circular seating area that was full to the bursting with witches and wizards.

Henri sat in one of the two chairs at the table and indicated the other chair in which Harry sat. They were silent as the Door Warden called the assembly to order. After everyone settled, a large, bearded man rose from his ornate seat that was directly in front of Harry and Henri.

"President Balfour," Henri murmured to Harry.

The President cut to the chase and said, "We are gathered here today to bear witness to the disturbing news from Britain. Monsieur le Baron Potter has been so kind as to come here and willingly share his memories of the horrifying night not so long ago."

A man pushed a cart in the room that held the largest pensieve Harry had ever seen. It had to be five feet across. By the time the man had stopped in front of the table, Harry had his wand to his temple to remove the memory of the end of the third task through his return portkey.

Henri had been quite insistent in a follow up letter that he start the memory in the maze so that no one would dispute the authenticity of the memory.

Standing, Harry went around the table and deposited the memory in the huge stone bowl. It looked quite odd sitting there; a small puddle of silver in the expansive bowl.

The President asked Harry, "Monsieur le Baron, for forms sake, I must ask you to confirm that the memory that you have deposited in the presentation pensieve is your true memory of the events of the evening of June the 24th 1994."

Nodding, Harry answered, "Yes, sir, the memory I just deposited in the presentation pensieve is my true memory of the events of the evening of June the 24th 1994."

The technician placed his wand on one of the runes ringing the lip of the pensieve and a huge three dimensional representation of Fleur appeared above the bowl.

Henri hid a smile. He hadn't expected this level of gamesmanship from Harry. Not only was he starting off the memory with a French citizen as the focus, but a beautiful French citizen.

"Monsieur le President, at the end of the third task of the Triwizard Tournament, I had successfully navigated a maze and ended at a clearing which held the Triwizard Cup itself. Since there had been numerous obstacles ranging from a Minotaur to a Confundus Mist, I was examining the Cup for other traps. At that point, Mademoiselle Delacour, the Beauxbatons champion, entered the clearing at which point the memory begins."

An older man sitting to the right of the President spoke up, "You fought a Minotaur young man?"

"Yes, sir. It was a most formidable opponent."

There was quite a bit of murmuring at Harry's answer and Henri had to hide his smile behind his hand. He did like this young man.

Balfour looked about and saw no other questions so he nodded to the technician and the memory began to play.

Having lived the nightmare, Harry had no desire to watch it again. There were many gasps at the dramatic moments and even weeping when Harry was placed under the Cruciatus. There were no questions, no interruptions.

At the end of the memory there was silence. In a strange way, the silence reverberated about the room, amplifying any sound. It was a bit unnerving for Harry to be in the large room with over four hundred people and the only noise was that of respiration.

Finally, Henri stood. In the quiet amphitheater, he looked down at Harry for a moment and then began to applaud the young man. Slowly, he clapped for the young man seated next to him, each time his hands came together, the sharp retort echoed loudly in the room. President Balfour stood and joined his Foreign Minister in applauding Harry. In ones and twos, Le Confederation Magique joined their leaders until Harry was the subject of a standing ovation.

Henri leaned down and whispered in Harry's ear. Blushing furiously, the young man stood and bowed first to the President and then to the major sections of the amphitheater. The applause slowly died down and eventually all the members took their seats.

"Thank you for sharing this incredibly personal and painful memory, Monsieur le Baron." Looking around the chamber, Balfour found a few hands raised. Nodding, he asked Harry, "Would you be open to answering a few questions for us?"

.oOo.

Surprisingly, the questions had been quite simple: where was the graveyard, was the cup intended to be a portkey, was it known who enchanted the cup?

Answering to the best of his ability, Harry laid out what he did and did not know for the legislative body. The body was quite disturbed that no one knew who had enchanted the Cup to act as a portkey.

At one point, a pinch-faced man stood and asked, "Monsieur Potter is it true that you are the bond mate of Foreign Minister Delacour's younger daughter?"

President Balfour leapt out of his seat and began castigating the questioner. Henri leaned over to Harry and whispered, "Don't answer any questions of that sort."

Harry nodded and then indicated the President who was red faced in his rebuke of the offensive man. "I gather he's an ally?"

Henri smiled and answered, "He is making very high ratings now for being the 'responsible President.' By protecting you it fits that image. Plus you are a member of the Wizengamot and a Peer who has volunteered to testify. It is bad form to be rude to you."

Shaking his head, Harry wished that reporters and politicians would always refrain from rude behavior.

The session ended with a seemingly heartfelt expression of gratitude by the President. They returned to Henri's office where the older man indicated a chair for Harry to sit.

After providing tea for his guest, Henri regarded Harry quietly. Harry didn't show signs of nervousness under the close scrutiny. With a small laugh, Henri thought, The young man has faced You-Know-Who four times and survived, why should I make him nervous? The answer hit him like a thunderbolt. Because he loves my daughter.

Shaking his head, Henri sighed. Harry tensed, afraid that he was about to be scolded for his bold behavior. "Harry, you did very well back there." The young Briton relaxed at that statement.

"And it brought up something that I wasn't sure about until now. You have sufficient wealth to take care of my Angel in the style she is accustomed. You can protect her as well or better than most men." The older man shook his head in a worried fashion. "This situation with You-Know-Who is disturbing, but we are doing what we can."

Looking Harry in the eye, Henri said, "I wasn't sure at first if I approved of you as a match for Gabrielle. The more I have come to know you, the more comfortable I become in the…situation."

Henri exhaled loudly and said, "My daughter is very young, Harry. You are very young. Unfortunately, experience both good and bad has aged you both far beyond your years. Magic itself is telling my daughter that you are the one for her. Despite my reluctance, I cannot disregard that fact.

"I love my daughter very much and would do anything for her. In this case, I will let you love her and she you."

Quite choked up with emotion, Harry nodded to the man and rasped, "Thank you."

Gathering his wits, Harry sat up straight and said, "Sir, as Head of House Potter, I'd like to establish a marriage contract between Harry James Potter and Gabrielle Vivienne Delacour."

.oOo.

When he had left after breakfast, Marie had been very reassuring to Gabrielle that Harry would be fine and return home soon. Nonetheless, Gabrielle had set a chair in the Entrance Hall right in front of the fireplace and began to sit in it, waiting for him.

The hours stretched on and her nerves increased. Lessons were canceled for the day which gave her time to feed the visions of Death Eater attacks, rogue Chimeras, French politicians seeking vengeance for a real or perceived British offenses going back to the Hundred Years War.

Her temper began to sizzle as her fears increased. Pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, she began a string of curses that would have shocked her mother had she heard them.

At lunchtime, Blinken popped into the entry hall but made a hasty retreat when Gabrielle scowled mightily at him. Now, she was an afraid and hungry part Veela with an active imagination

Not good.

Fleur walked through the entry hall reading a book as she strolled. The poor girl was unprepared for the blast of vitriol from her younger sister. After the first wave exhausted itself, Fleur cocked an eyebrow and asked, "Harry is not back yet?"

"NO, and it is driving me mad!"

Softly smiling, Fleur embraced her younger sister while whispering to her, "He is well and will return soon."

"I have this horrible feeling that something is very wrong and he is dead in a ditch somewhere."

Fleur laughed. Her amused laughter trilled and echoed in the marble hall. Gabrielle pouted and finally poked her sister in the ribs. "Stop it, I'm serious."

"Oh, Angel. Harry is fine. Have you eaten?"

Gabrielle shook her head so Fleur grabbed her sister by the elbow and said, "Come, Blinken will have saved something for you in the kitchen."

After eating, Fleur dragged her sister outside to the gardens. "We will take a walk, maybe work on our tans while we await his return." Gabrielle's mood had improved, but the underlying worry about him was still gnawing at her. Nodding, she let herself be led outside.

The fireplace roared to life around four and the Floo disgorged a dizzy Harry Potter.

"Damn, that's a long way to be spinning," he muttered from the floor.

A rapid click-clack of shoes on the floor signaled Gabrielle's arrival. She knelt next to him, a relieved expression on her face. Touching him all over she asked, "Are you alright?"

Puzzled, he replied, "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

Now her temper sizzled again, "Because you have been gone for eight hours and didn't let us know what was going on! Because I have had the worst feeling that you were dead somewhere and I couldn't help you! Because you are an inconsiderate man who didn't even consider giving a Floo call to tell me that things were Ok!" With the last pronouncement, she stabbed him in the chest with her forefinger and stalked away, leaving a very confused Harry Potter behind.

.oOo.

Gabrielle was in her room. She simmered as she flounced from bed to chair and back. Roughly cuddling the stuffed pony she'd had since she was very little, she muttered, "Idiot. He doesn't understand, does he?"

A tentative knock on the door revealed Harry with a borderline frightened expression on his face.

"May I come in?"

She nodded sharply and he took a seat. The chair in the corner of her room was a holdover from the days when her mother would calm her when she was ill or her father would sit with her to 'drive away the monsters' that lived in her closet or under her bed.

He was looking in his lap at his linked hands when he began to speak, "I'm sorry I didn't Floo call that the testimony went well. I got caught up talking with your father and lost track of time." He looked up at her, his eyes full of anguish, "I'm really sorry."

"What was so important that you didn't even remember calling your bond-mate?"

Harry didn't say anything, he just reached into his robes, withdrew a rolled sheet of parchment and handed it to her.

Thrown off guard, she took the parchment with a quizzical expression. Unrolling it, she read the header: Marriage Contract between the Ancient and Noble House of Potter and the Most Righteous and Royal House of Delacour.

"Oh."

Now he was really worried. He'd expected Gabrielle to be happy or at least pleased. This non-reaction was troubling. She turned her face to Harry and he saw a tear on her cheek.

Without consciously considering, he moved to the bed, sitting next to her. Wiping the tear away with the pad of his thumb, he asked, "What's wrong?"

"I am such a bitch."

Embracing her, he murmured, "No, you're mine and I cannot love someone so…so like that."

"Why isn't it signed?" she asked.

Loosing his hold on her, he explained, "Your father and I negotiated through the afternoon but he wouldn't sign it until my family solicitors had reviewed it. He wanted to have a clear conscience that he didn't take advantage of my inexperience."

Her expression became radiant and her smile was a beacon of love. Whispering in his ear, she asked, "Soon we will be married?"

He smiled back and answered her, "Yes."

Lying back on her bed she kicked off her shoes and indicated toward the door with her hand. "Close the door my love and cast a Imperturbable charm."

.oOo.

(International Magical Tribune Headline)

PROMINENT BRITISH WIZENGAMOT LEADER FOUND DEAD

DARK MARK CAST OVER HOME

.oOo.

Harry inquired via Gringotts Paris if his family had solicitors on record. When the reply came with a name and address he wrote a cover letter of introduction, copied the marriage contract and sent it off with Hedwig.

He stood on the veranda watching Hedwig fly away when familiar arms wrapped around him from behind. Smiling, he covered her arms with his own and leaned back into her.

"It's almost like Christmas," she offered.

"Hmm?" he closed his eyes and enjoyed her embrace, the warm sun and the sea breeze.

"The anticipation. When the legalities are all done the whole world will know that I am yours and you are mine. It's exciting for me." She turned him in her arms and kissed him softly.

With a hint of fear in his eyes, he asked, "I want to check and make sure: do you want to do this?"

She gave him a soft smile, nodded and then kissed him with all the passion she could muster. Soon they broke away before they lost control. The other day in her bedroom much clothing had been shed but they still had not made love. By mutual concurrence they had held back from the final step.

He held her close and she snuggled into his chest. Still amazed after being together for months, he savored the exquisite feeling of closeness that holding his love awoke in his chest.

"How is your shoulder?" she asked.

He rolled it and answered, "It's been better, I sure won't fall that way again." They both chuckled at his statement. In training with Sensei Taguchi, Harry had been thrown and instead of rolling with the fall, he'd tried to stop his fall by extending his arms. Nearly dislocating his shoulder had been a stiff lesson but it had been learned well.

She led him to a couch that had an old oak tree overhanging the veranda, providing shade. Their studies had been quite intense the last few weeks. Fleur had finished her NEWTs and after a few days to recuperate, had joined the Defense training, as well as, the hand-to-hand instruction.

Martin Beaucourt was a gruff old man who was constantly complaining about "Children today not following the old ways. Not respecting their elders," and so on.

He was also fanatical about offensive spellfire.

"If you can't hit them, you can't beat them!" he chanted to the three students when performing accuracy exercises. Harry was distinctly reminded of Mad-Eye Moody and wondered if all long-term Law Enforcement Officers suffered from an obsession of some kind. Maybe it was that they survived so long because they had an obsession.

Beaucourt conjured bubbles for them to hit with Bone Breaking curses, conjured chipmunks to hit with Reductor curses, conjured floating glass beads to hit with Piercing charms.

Their first day with him he had them line up in the back garden and looked them over speculatively. Shaking his head, he walked back to the house muttering.

Fleur, in particular, was a bit put off. She'd finished her NEWTs and done quite well. Now that she was a fully qualified witch, she expected a bit more than the cursing and mutters they'd all received so far. There was quite a surprise in store for her when she politely mentioned this to Beaucourt.

"You silly little girl," he had sneered at her. "Passing those tests signifies that you know just enough to begin real learning! Now get back on the line and keep casting at your dummy!"

After that, no one complained about the old man's training methods.

He'd sit in a conjured chair, smoking his pipe as the three students demonstrated the five spells he'd assigned them to learn for that day. Put together with the high intensity Charms work from Madame LeCroix and the Transfiguration from Monsieur Travail, there wasn't much time for fun in the sun.

"Come, love," Gabrielle called to Harry. "Let us do our reading down at the beach today."

He nodded and closed his copy of Advanced Transfiguration and joined her. Holding hands, they meandered down the path to the beach.

Settling on a conjured blanket, Gabrielle rested her head on Harry's shoulder and sighed. "I miss this. Just you and me."

Harry nodded in agreement. They hadn't had much time to themselves. Studying and exercise dominated their time and energy. "What do you say we study together like this? Just the two of us?"

She smiled and kissed his hand that she was holding. "I love you, mon cher."

"I love you too."

With another sigh, she straightened and opened her book. Harry opened his and began to re-read the section regarding the 8th Universal Law of Transfiguration and how to apply it. He'd actually improved dramatically in Transfiguration. Where the art was once a weakness for him, it was becoming a strength.

Monsieur Travail was able to communicate effectively what McGonagall, Hermione and Gabrielle had all tried but failed. It was about a combination of belief and intent. Now that he understood what Transfiguration was about, it was as if a light had illuminated his entire understanding.

Smiling to himself, he shucked off his shirt and lay on his stomach to read.

An hour later, they were surrounded by the results of their practice. Sand crabs had been transfigured into turtles whose shells were charmed various colors of the rainbow.

"I like that one," Gabrielle giggled.

Harry laughed at the flashing pink turtle. Its expression was somehow indignant.

A spray of sand announced Fleur's arrival. "I got the job!" she shouted.

"Gringotts?"

"Yes!" and she tackled Gabrielle in a hug.

Harry laughed at the two as they rolled around on the sand laughing and carrying on like loons. "I'm happy for you Fleur. Which branch?"

"London," she answered with an impish smile.

Gabrielle faked a puzzled expression and asked, "Isn't Bill Weasley now working out of the London Branch, Harry?"

Tapping his chin in mock thoughtfulness, he answered, "I think so. I'd have to check, but I think he is."

With the smile of a hungry wolf, Fleur said, "Oh, he is. He most definitely is."

.oOo.

(International Magical Tribune Headline)

BRITISH MINISTER FUDGE SPEAKS OUT AGAINST PANIC

"YOU-KNOW-WHO IS NO THREAT"

.oOo.

Henri returned from Paris that evening and the family had a feast to celebrate Fleur's new position. Harry was enthralled by the laughter and love that infused the atmosphere. Henri and Marie's expressions were full of love and pride for their eldest child. He tried to avoid it, but couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy.

From across the table, Gabrielle caught his eye and smiled brilliantly at him. His return smile helped banish his negative feelings. This was his family now also. Or would be soon which widened his smile even further.

As the dessert was cleared away and coffee served, Blinken appeared next to Harry. "This came for you during dinner, sir." Accepting the missive, Harry thanked the very serious house elf and set the letter aside.

Henri sipped his coffee and said, "Go ahead, Harry. Don't stand on formality with us."

Nodding, Harry opened the letter and smiled. After reading for a bit, he looked across to Gabrielle and explained, "Hermione says she is well and that she explained to her parents about your offer for them to come stay." Turning to Henri, he asked, "Would next week be an imposition for the Grangers to visit?"

Being a smart man, Henri turned to his wife and shrugged. Marie rolled her eyes at her husband and asked, "How many in the family, Harry?"

"Three."

Waving her hand dismissively, Marie answered, "It is no problem. We would love to have your friend and her parents stay. We aren't traveling for the rest of the summer, so anytime is acceptable."

.oOo.

The next week was bittersweet for Gabrielle and to a lesser extent, Harry. She was truly happy for her sister. Fleur was spreading her wings and becoming independent. It was something that all young adults yearn for, yet Gabrielle couldn't help a tear or two as she watched Fleur buzz about the house, packing her belongings.

One such day, Fleur found her sibling out on the grounds having a good cry. Gabrielle had been trying every trick she could to be happy for her sister and not dwell on how much she'd miss the older girl. None of them worked.

"Angel?" Fleur asked softly. "What makes you so sad?" She slowly enveloped her beloved younger sister in a hug.

"I'm going to miss you so much!" Gabrielle sobbed and then let loose with her tears.

Unbeknownst to the ladies, Harry walked up behind them and stopped a short distance away. "Harry is wonderful. I love him with all my heart, but you are different."

Harry looked at his feet and silently sighed. He knew he'd never be enough for Gabi, but now she had confirmed it for him.

Fleur gently rocked her sister for a bit. Softly she murmured, "Family is always important. Mama and Papa have taught me that. No matter where I am, Angel, you are my sister and I love you like no other."

Gabrielle nodded into her sister's blouse and began to calm. Fleur continued to hold Gabrielle, a few tears of her own tracked down her cheeks. "I'll miss you as well. Take good care of yourself and let Harry take good care of you. He loves you, you know that?"

The younger sister nodded again, but was silent. Fleur's head twitched to the side as Harry shifted his weight and scraped against a tree he stood next. "If I'm not mistaken," Fleur said with a hint of humor, "Your beloved is here to claim you from me."

Harry shuffled up to the seated pair. Gabrielle looked up and after a short burst of Veela magic to clear her tearstained face, stood into his waiting arms.

Fleur smiled at the scene, stood and embraced the couple. Kissing each on the cheek, she murmured, "Take care of each other," and headed to the house.

Finally, Gabrielle's breath evened and Harry asked, "Alright?"

She nodded and replied, "I'm Ok. I'll just miss her a lot."

Harry was silent. He had no experience of family or losing a loved one to separation to draw on, so he stayed quiet and just held her. She eventually pulled him to the ground. He leaned against the tree and she leaned on his chest, firmly snuggled between his legs. Puling her close, he took a deep breath with his nose in her hair and inhaled the unique scent that was his Gabi.

With a slight smile, he sat there and they watched the sun sink beneath the waves. When the sun was buried beneath the waves in its age-old oscillation, Gabrielle rubbed Harry's leg and whispered, "Thank you for being here, mon cher. I needed you and you held me. Thank you."

"I didn't know what else to do. I'm glad I could help."

Pushing him flat, she straddled his waist and leaned over, her hair shrouding their faces. "You did."

The last light of the day saw the young lovers entwined in the grass of the Delacour Estates at White Rock.

.oOo.

(International Magical Tribune Headline)

ATTACK IN HOGSMEADE, SCOTLAND – TEN DEAD, MANY WOUNDED

YOU-KNOW-WHO SEEN AT MASSACRE SITE!

.oOo.

Fleur and Marie left the next day. Neither of the elder Delacours were very happy with Fleur's decision to move to Britain – Voldemort had just been resurrected after all. However, they were attempting to let her fly on her own. That didn't preclude them from 'taking precautions' as Henri explained to Fleur. Marie had already contacted the best warders in Britain, Phalanx Home Defense and Warders.

Gabrielle vacillated between being sad about Fleur leaving and excitement for Hermione's visit. The day the Grangers were to arrive, she and Harry were wandering through the gardens hand-in-hand. They'd stop every so often to kiss and cuddle, but mostly they were enjoying a day off from their intense training schedule.

They were sitting on a bench, Harry's head in her lap, when scurrying feet approached. Harry saw Gabrielle wave so he twisted around and saw his oldest friend approaching, a big smile on her face.

After suitable hugging and greetings, the threesome sat for a bit. Hermione gushed about the beauty of White Rock for quite a while before Harry could ask, "Did anything come of my leaving school early?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not really. Professor McGonagall was pretty low, though. She asked if you planned to return next year. I think she could tell I was lying when I told her I wasn't sure. She just nodded in a sad way before telling me to be off. I didn't see the Headmaster at all."

Gabrielle had a mischievous grin when she asked, "And Viktor? How was that goodbye?"

Hermione blushed to the roots of her hair before she muttered, "It was fine."

When Harry and Gabrielle finished laughing, Hermione's face turned sad. "I've some bad news."

"Oh?" Harry stiffened as he sat next to his intended.

"My parents won't let me go to Beauxbatons."

.oOo.

Dinner was decidedly uncomfortable for Harry. On the one hand, he was very excited to see Hermione. She was his oldest friend and he still marveled that the bushy haired witch had stayed by him during the various trials they'd been through their first four years at Hogwarts. Their friendship was a large part of his emotional bedrock that helped keep him sane when Dark Lords and Dementors descended upon him. In the end, he enjoyed being with her: nagging, pushiness and part time condescension aside.

His discomfort sprang directly from these feelings. The other hand was quite plain; they were going to be separated. No matter their collective resolve, it was very difficult to maintain long distance friendships, especially at the level of emotional intimacy they'd developed over the years. The level of trust, comfort and liking they had for the other was very hard to maintain via a piece of parchment.

He didn't know how to reconcile the two differing states. Wanting to have his oldest friend in his life conflicted with his attendance at Beauxbatons. Changing from Beauxbatons was not optional for him. He had to be with the woman to whom, very soon, he would be married

However, what would he do about Hermione? His relationship with her, despite the various ups and downs, was an integral part of him. It was huge for him and he was truly seeing that for the first time now that she was being taken away from him.

Narrowing his eyes in concentration, he thought, But what I have with Gabrielle is so much more. The loving, open, trusting relationship he had with his bond mate made his friendship with Hermione look like a passing acquaintance. With a rueful smile to himself, he was reminded of an essential fact.

I'm a very lucky guy to have the both of them in my life.

The Grangers were fluent in French, like their daughter, so the elder Delacours and Grangers conversed easily. Henri was very curious as to the mood of what has been considered the backbone of Britain for hundreds of years; the middle and upper middle class.

Steven Granger glanced at his wife Jennifer and then told Henri, "Well, we don't have a lot of interaction with the magical community. We take the daily paper, but that's just so we can keep a hand in, you see. With us being non-magical, we aren't really comfortable moving in magical society."

"It's so incredibly bigoted," added Jennifer.

All seven of the table's occupant nodded at the uncomfortably true observation.

The wonderful meal wrapped up and the Grangers made their goodnights, traveling had tired them out. As the visitors headed to the third floor and their rooms, Gabrielle took Harry's hand and murmured, "Come, my love. Let us take a walk in the gardens. The moon is near full and the breeze is wonderful."

Slowly they meandered through the paths and walkways. Every so often, she would come close and wrap her arm around his waist, him returning the gesture.

She could almost sense his conflict and was frustrated in that she didn't know what to do to restore him to harmony. Little did she realize that Harry had experienced the same dilemma when Gabrielle had struggled with Fleur's leaving.

Finally, Harry stopped, sighed loudly and pulled her close. After a long, firm embrace, he whispered in her ear, "I shall miss her greatly."

Incredible sadness washed over the young part Veela. She knew that Harry had very few friends, for the same reason that she had few friends. Most people wanted something from them.

From Harry, the leeches wanted to share in his celebrity limelight, his money or, for the fools, to share in his adventures. It was the reason that Harry wanted to shun his fame as the boy-who-lived. That sycophancy grated against the gears that made him who he was. Such a fundamental disagreement with the concept of an entourage ensured he would have few friends. He wanted friends who liked him for his character, his personality. Not the other superficial crap.

Gabrielle had no illusions about herself and 'social issues'. Marie had a very serious talk with her daughter when Gabrielle turned eight. The mother had wanted to illuminate some of the pitfalls the young witch would encounter. Veela mature far faster than humans do and Gabrielle, like her sister Fleur, had the body of a woman by the time she'd turned twelve. Far too many people wanted to be with her for one of two things. Sex or her family's money. Both types of person were repugnant to her and she could spot one of the leeches a mile away. Just as Harry could.

Hermione was special to them both because of this history. Gabrielle did not have the long term friendship with the young witch, but still cared about her and knew that Hermione genuinely cared for Gabrielle in turn. It was not a friendship that either wanted to cast aside.

She was experiencing an emotional turbulence that was vaguely reminiscent of Fleur's departure and it alarmed her.

"I don't know what to do."

Refocusing on Harry, she held him close and replied in a soft whisper, "Nor do I, mon cher."

"I can't be apart from you, yet I don't want to be apart from her. The only solution that I see is for me to smile, hug her and then wave goodbye as she boards the Hogwarts Express while we head for Beauxbatons."

Gently shaking her magnificent head in negation, Gabrielle counseled, "You don't have to solve it tonight, my love. Put it from your mind as best you can. Enjoy her being here with us and let the problem sit while we all ruminate on possible solutions."

He had her in a close embrace and with his left hand, tilted her face up to his. For a long moment, he looked into her eyes. During the daytime, his eyes were the same colour as a lush jungle, the dark green was mesmerizing. Now, in the light of the moon, his eyes looked black.

She found it incredibly sexy.

His eyes caressed her face, held her attention. Her blue bored into the seeming black of his and they silently conveyed to each other their feelings for each other and for their mutual friend.

His voice husky with emotion, he whispered, "I love you."

"And I love you."

.oOo.

Later that evening, Harry lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He had tried to follow Gabrielle's advice and put the Hermione situation out of his head. He had used a spare bit of parchment to work out all the possible solutions and then eliminated all those that separated him from Gabrielle. He had hoped that this would empty his head of the debate. It didn't. The permutations bounced in his head like bludgers and kept him awake. Rubbing his face in frustration, he cast about for something to distract him.

On the nightstand was a picture of him and Gabrielle that Colin Creevy had taken at the Yule Ball. The young Gryffindor had acted as the school photographer for the dance and taken an unposed picture of the couple just as a waltz ended. The Wizarding photo showed the well matched young couple dance for a few beats then back away to applaud the band. Right before the photo restarted its loop, the Harry and Gabrielle in the picture beamed at each other.

He held the magical image in his hand and watched it. His heart warmed to see the love in her face and in his own. If he looked carefully, he could see the now ever present sapphire ring on her right hand.

Just as he replaced the picture on his nightstand, the door to his bedroom opened. Shaking his head, he reached for his glasses. Harry was surprised when a bushy headed figure peeked around the doorframe looking first left then right before settling on his form in bed. Later, he chided himself; of course, she'd want to talk to him about it.

"Harry, are you awake?" she asked in a loud whisper.

"No." he answered, his smile wide.

He could almost hear her roll her eyes as she came in the room and then softly shut the door behind her. Sitting on the edge of his bed, she muttered, "Pillock."

He sat up and propped his pillow on his headboard. Drawing up his knees, he leaned on his pillow and waited.

He didn't have to wait long as she sighed and then asked, "Are you really mad at me?"

His heart sank as he realized he had been only thinking of himself. He hadn't even reassured Hermione earlier and could only imagine what she was thinking now. If it were him, he'd assume that she was relieved or even glad they weren't going to be in the same school anymore.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I've been a complete berk. I was so upset by your news that I was only thinking of myself. I'm not even remotely mad at you. If anything, I'm shredded that we'll not be together anymore."

He choked up at the end and his words became a hoarse whisper. Hermione stifled a sob and embraced her oldest friend. They held each other for a while and then Hermione let go and then moved back a bit. She smiled and said, "Don't want Gabrielle to see us too close. Not sure if she can transform like a full blooded Veela and I don't want to gain first hand knowledge."

They both chuckled and Harry offered, "She can."

With a smile, Hermione nodded. Grabbing his toe and playfully shaking it, she offered, "I'm really going to miss you, Harry."

He nodded and replied to her unasked question, "I'm going to miss you more than I can say. You've always been there for me, unlike anyone else."

"Except Gabrielle."

"True," he admitted, acknowledging her correction. "But still, you're my oldest friend and I've been wracking my brains to try to find a solution. Gabrielle told me to try to put it from my mind. She told me we'd think on it tomorrow, but my brain won't listen."

Hermione nodded, an impish smile on her face. "Smart girl there Potter. Maybe you ought to listen to her."

Now Harry rolled his eyes at her. "Of course I listen to her. Of course I do what I'm told." Now Hermione smothered laughter with her hand. Harry joined her, not bothering to keep quiet. He grabbed his wand off the nightstand and a few deft flicks later, the room was Silenced.

"That is so not fair that you can do magic." She was wistfully looking at her own wand in her lap.

Harry shrugged, "With the wards here you could cast anything short of an Unforgivable and I doubt le Confederation would be able to detect it."

"Really?" she asked with an edge of excitement.

Laughing, he responded, "Really, really."

She glanced at the bedside clock and yawned. "I'm glad I came down. I was really worried about this."

He nodded, his shame still very bitter in his mouth. "I'm glad, too. I'm still really sorry I didn't say something earlier."

Waving him off, she gently rebuked him, "You had quite a shock and I'm sure that you would have come around in the end. At least," now she smiled, "Gabrielle would have had you come around."

He rolled his eyes playfully as she stood, squeezed his hand and offered, "Good night Harry."

"Good night, Hermione."

.oOo.

The next day Hermione joined the couple in their studies. Forgoing participating in the training with Sensei Taguchi, she watched with one eye and studied Charms with the other. As Gabrielle and Harry sparred under their gruff instructor's watchful eye, Marie sat next to the young witch.

They both winced as Gabrielle hip threw Harry only to wince again as the Potter heir bounced up and tripped his intended with a left footed leg sweep.

Marie shook her head and turned to Hermione. "Gabrielle came to my rooms last night, most upset."

Hermione closed her book and set it aside. After a pause, the young witch asked, "Oh?"

"Yes, she was very upset that you are unable to attend Beauxbatons."

A bit wide eyed, Hermione asked, "Really?"

With a light smile, the Frenchwoman answered, "Truly. She considers you a friend, not something for my daughter, either of them for that matter, to treat lightly."

Touched, Hermione nodded, "I consider Gabrielle one of my closest friends. Close in importance to Harry, in fact."

Nodding, Marie asked, "Did your parents state their reasons for denying your request to attend Beauxbatons?"

Hermione shrugged and scowled, "Dad didn't. Mum cited the increased cost and that 'it's so far away'." Hermione snorted and with real frustration said, "Beauxbatons is actually closer to our home as the crow flies!"

Marie rubbed Hermione's back, calming the young Englishwoman a bit. "I'm sure the fact that Beauxbatons is on the continent makes the distance seem farther. I know that I would be reluctant to let Gabrielle attend Hogwarts for the same reason." She paused and then added, "If I had a say in the matter any more."

Hermione looked at Marie with a quizzical expression. Marie noticed and elaborated, "The marriage contract should be signed any day. Harry is just waiting for his solicitors to review the terms."

Stunned, Hermione muttered, "I didn't know." Recovering quickly, she added, "I mean, I knew they were going to pursue a contract and Harry was going to attempt to negotiate with your husband, but I didn't know they were this far along."

"Yes, Harry and Henri negotiated the contract about a week into his stay here. Harry sent the document off to be reviewed and has been answering questions from his solicitors since." Leaning into the girl with a conspirator's smile, she said, "I think that Harry tires of the legal-speak."

With a wan smile, Hermione acknowledged the humorous truth. A long moment later, she gathered her courage and asked, "But how do you feel about them marrying so young?"

Marie sighed, "I'll admit, I never expected Gabrielle to marry first. She is young, but as I'm sure you've seen, she's as mature as any twenty year old woman."

Hermione nodded at the truth of the statement. "I don't like it at all, to tell the truth." Hermione's eyes widened, but Marie put her companion at ease. "I find Harry delightful. He is a wonderful young man who is perfect for Gabrielle. I could ask for no better husband for my Angel."

"But…"

Marie smiled, "But indeed. In the end my daughter is only fifteen and her intended is about to turn fifteen. I know that one hundred years ago marrying at this age wasn't unheard of. In fact, it was even commonplace for those of our station." Hermione bristled a bit at the 'our station' comment, but let it pass.

There was silence while Marie gathered her thoughts. "In the end, my daughter's nature as Veela has driven the situation. Her magic guarantees that Harry is her perfect mate. It also binds her to him almost as tightly as he binds himself to her."

Alarmed, Hermione asked, "He's bound to her?" She glanced out to the ring to see Harry helping Gabrielle to her feet.

"Somewhat, but not like she is to him. Not magically bound at any rate." Pausing, Marie tapped her finger on her knee until she continued, "She is devoted to him and no other. She is intelligent, beautiful, caring, fun and will be the perfect sexual partner for him. She is dedicated to him as much; if not more than, any woman can be to a man. How can he not hopelessly fall in love with her? How can he not be bound to her?"

Relieved, Hermione nodded. "I see. I was afraid that there was more to what's going on."

With a soft smile, Marie answered the unspoken question, "Just old fashioned love."

Hermione was conflicted and confused. She liked Gabrielle. She liked Harry and Gabrielle as a couple. The idea of the two fifteen year olds being married boggled her mind. However, was it beyond their ability?

She shook her head in confusion, "I'm glad I'm just their friend. I don't envy you or Monsieur Delacour one bit your position."

"We knew that our girls would live very different lives, given their heritage."

"I suppose." Hermione watched her friends in their cool down exercises and stretching. They were well matched physically; his dark to her light. They were well matched emotionally; his ingenuity and impulsiveness to balance her deliberation and strong intellect. Overlaying the entire equation was the most essential fact: they loved each other.

Nodding her acceptance, she murmured, "I approve."

From her side, Hermione heard, "You should tell them."

After a long moment of contemplation, Hermione nodded in agreement. "I will."

.oOo.

Gabrielle scooped up Harry's hand as they left their sparring area. "Come, let's walk to the beach."

The breeze had come around so that the wind was in their faces as they crested the small hill of dunes that led to the water. They continued their stroll enjoying the cool breeze and softly breaking surf.

"Hermione visited me last night."

Gabrielle raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow in an unspoken query.

"She was worried that I was mad at her." He shrugged, his guilt still very real to him.

She curled her arm around his and asked, "And did you reassure her?"

"As best I could."

Gabrielle nodded and loosened the braid in her hair. Shaking her head briskly, she ran her fingers through her tresses to loosen and untangle her platinum blond mane.

She had a look of contemplation, even resolve when she turned to him. "What is going on with the solicitors and the contract?"

Harry shook his head and raised his hands in exasperation, "They keep bringing up obscure points and issues. It's becoming quite annoying."

"Are they just delaying?"

He pursed his lips and thought, "It seems like it, but why?"

She cocked an eyebrow and replied, "Dumbledore?"

Harry's expression fell. He'd tried to put the headmaster and most of Britain behind him when he came here to White Rock. With a deep sigh, he concurred, "You're probably right."

"So?" she asked.

"I'll see what their next owl says. If there is any legitimate concerns that date since the fifteenth century and not before," she chuckled at that, "I'll go along with it. Otherwise, if they continue this game, they're fired." He looked at her with soft eyes, "I've waited long enough. We've waited long enough."

He kissed her long under the warm morning sun on the empty beach of the Cote d'Azur.

.oOo.

Dinner was much more informal and they ate on the veranda. Cook had served a wonderful seafood pasta that settled quite nicely. The conversation was moving well as the Grangers warmed to their hosts. There were a few minutes of awkwardness when the family's Veela roots were disclosed. Steven Granger in particular stared at Gabrielle like a prize leopard in the zoo.

Harry was going to do something to the man; the list included hexing, cursing or just yelling at the gawking man. Fortunately, Alice Granger cleared her throat gaining her husband's attention and glared at the man to which he nodded sheepishly.

With an indifferent mask, Gabrielle turned to Harry and raised her eyebrows, her meaning quite clear. This is what I deal with all the time.

Harry nodded to her in understanding. Me too.

A red-faced Hermione leaned into Gabrielle and whispered, "I'm sorry."

Gabrielle gave her friend a gentle smile and patted her hand in answer. Dinner continued with little more than an awkward pause.

As coffee was served, Blinken handed Harry a thick letter with the message, "My Lord, this arrived during dinner."

After thanking the household's head house elf, Harry scanned the front before placing it in the inside pocket of his robes. Catching Gabrielle's eye, he winked at her. Her eyebrow cocked and she had a hopeful grin. He smiled and nodded in return. She beamed at him, loosing her Veela power for a short moment.

"Gabrielle," her mother scolded.

Steven Granger was sitting at the table looking a bit punch drunk, his wife glaring at him again. Sheepishly, Gabrielle apologized, "I'm sorry Mr. Granger."

Somewhat dazzled, the dentist demurred, "Not a problem, my dear."

After dinner, Harry excused himself from the company; left the drawing room the family and guests were relaxing in and hustled to the library.

Ripping open the parchment, he found a cover letter from his solicitors. In it, they said that although they could find nothing else objectionable in the terms of the contract, they strongly encouraged him to wait until he was seventeen or even older to commit himself. For a half second he considered the point before his Gryffindor impetuosity and boldness reared. I love her and she loves me. Why let 'them' dictate my life to me. I've done that so far and it's only led to misery. No more.

Reading through the contract, he saw nothing of substance had changed from the previous iteration. In the morning, he'd give it to Henri for final review, and maybe one final request – for Gabi.

Smiling, he refolded the contract and tossed the cover letter in the heatless fire burning merrily in the fireplace. Whistling a jaunty tune, he went to rejoin his family – Or soon they will be.

.oOo.

Harry and Gabi waltzed through their lessons the next day. At breakfast he asked for a few moments of Henri's time and they conducted their business in the study after eating.

"I expect us to deal with this at lunch," Henri informed Harry with a tremulous smile.

Summoning all his courage, Harry offered, "Sir, if you and Madame wish to wait before signing, I'm sure that Gabrielle and I can wait for a bit."

Henri looked at Harry and with a sardonic expression asked, "How hard was that to say, Harry?"

Breaking his serious mien, Harry answered, "Quite difficult."

Clapping the young man on the shoulder, the French Foreign Minister said, "We shall not wait, Harry. When you and Gabrielle have children of your own, especially daughters, you shall understand." Nodding his head to the younger man, he finished, "Until lunch, then."

"Lunchtime it is."

.oOo.

Gabrielle didn't leave Harry's side all morning. Nervously, they made their way to the dining room after their Transfiguration lesson. They'd clued in Hermione after Charms and their bushy haired friend was like the nervous bridesmaid before the wedding.

They sat down to eat but both Harry and Gabrielle's stomachs were closed. He looked at his plate, over at Gabrielle and her plate before turning to the head of the table, "Sir, might we take care of the contract before meal?" With a hint of a smile, he added, "I don't think that Gabrielle or I will have much of an appetite until that is resolved."

The Delacours smiled and made to rise while the Grangers looked on, puzzled. Finally, Steven leaned to Hermione and asked, "What are they talking about?"

"Harry and Monsieur Delacour are entering into a marriage contract between Harry and Gabrielle."

"That's barbaric!" exclaimed Alice in a whispered shriek.

Harry coolly regarded the Grangers before standing and heading to the study with the three Delacours. He gave Hermione a quick nod before they left.

Hermione stared at her plate until her father asked, "What's wrong pumpkin?"

Still looking at her plate, Hermione responded in a pointed repetition. "What's wrong? I'll tell you what's wrong. Every day we've been here, you've embarrassed me to no end with your jingoistic, ignorant behavior. You gawk at Gabrielle like a prize heifer, you sound off about a magical tradition that is centuries old and on top of it, entered into willingly by all parties. There are things going on here of which you have no conception, so next time, I'd appreciate it if you said nothing!"

The irate witch stood from the table and as she stormed away, Alice called after her, "Hermione Jane! Don't you walk away young lady…"

.oOo.

Nervous, Harry sat across from Henri's desk in the study. Marie and Gabrielle sat on a divan along the wall. "Harry," the head of the Most Righteous and Royal House of Delacour began, "I discussed your request with my wife and we would request a compromise of sorts."

Gabrielle looked confused and to tell the truth, a bit frightened. "Papa? Harry?"

Harry looked at his almost-wife and grinned sheepishly. "I wanted it to be a surprise. I asked your father if he would consider guaranteeing White Rock to you or your descendants upon his death."

Gabrielle's eyes widened and then she smiled at him, her expression promising her thanks later that evening for his thoughtfulness.

"We would ask to reduce Gabrielle's dowry by one hundred thousand galleons and a commitment to allow Fleur and two generations of her descendants access to the house for holiday purposes, but not as a primary residence."

Harry nodded and glanced to Gabrielle to ensure her agreement. When she nodded, he responded to Henri, "Most definitely. That is quiet agreeable."

The room was quiet while Henri filled his fountain pen and added the proviso to the contract.

For Harry, time began to slow. He acted and reacted. Later, he was pretty sure that he breathed during the next five minutes but couldn't have sworn an oath that he did. Gabrielle told him that night that she was impressed with his calm collectedness during the entire negotiation. He would tell her he didn't remember all of it.

Henri rustled in his desk drawers and after an "Aha! Found you," he pulled up a wicked looking black quill. Seeing Harry's uncomprehending expression, Henri explained, "It's a blood quill. It's used in magically binding contracts. As you write, it will draw blood from the back of your hand to use as ink."

Harry ruffled his nose and Marie laughed. "It is rather disgusting, isn't it?"

With a deep breath, Henri bent over the page and signed his name with a flourish.

Harry was sure that his heart had stopped beating. Positive, in fact that blood had ceased to circulate in his body. Time came to an end as first Marie and then Gabrielle signed the contract as 'parties affected.'

Light began to escape from the room in fits and starts. Air absconded with its cousin as Harry bent over the parchment.

He gulped down the last vestiges of oxygen in the room, murmured, "Gryffindors Forward," and signed the contract in his spiky handwriting. He didn't even notice the sting on the back of his hand, but he did notice the distinctly red coloration of his signature before it dried.

Holy Shit.

Before he could utter the imprecation and all the terror it encompassed, he was engulfed in the arms of his wife.

My Wife.

Holy shit.

This time, the imprecation was full of joy and wonder. Amazing that the same two words can convey two emotional positions that have a gulf between them so large.

He smiled, relaxed in the hug and held her close. She pulled back and he gently kissed her. A kiss of tenderness and affection, but with a hint of passion to come.

She bracketed his face with her hands and gazed into his eyes. He then realized that she was weeping. Alarmed, he moved to speak when she silenced him, "I love you so much."

"I love you too, my Gabi."

She smiled and pulled him close again.

When they broke apart they found Henri and Marie standing next to each other, Henri's arm around his wife while she dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief.

Gabrielle went to her mother while Henri approached his son-in-law. "Harry," he said after firmly shaking the young man's hand, "Marie and I would be honored if you would consider calling us Mama and Papa. If that is uncomfortable for you, please use our Christian names."

Surprised, Harry turned to Marie who smiled and nodded.

With a hint of the Marauders, Harry hugged Marie and answered them with, "I'd be glad to…Mum."

.oOo.

The Grangers pere and mere spent the afternoon sunning on the beach. Hermione spent the afternoon poolside with Harry's advanced Transfiguration book. After eating a late lunch, the newly married young couple found the girl immersed in the topic.

"Hey Hermione," called Harry. When Hermione didn't look up, he and Gabrielle sat across from the girl and in a conversational tone asked, "Are you alright?"

When she didn't look up again, Gabrielle frowned, reached over and tapped the book Hermione was reading.

Startled, Hermione jumped and replaced the book in front of her face, mumbling a barely coherent apology. She wasn't fast enough to prevent the Potters noticing that her eyes were rimmed with red and her hair more tousled than normal.

Softly, Gabrielle asked, "Hermione, how can we help?"

Like a damn bursting, Hermione threw down the book and wailed at them. "I'm so humiliated! Gabrielle, your parents have been nothing but kind and convivial. Especially so given your wonderful news and yet my parents are acting like the stereotypical British buffoons abroad in the late Nineteenth Century. They've repeatedly insulted my two best friends and what makes it only somewhat bearable is that they didn't mean to!"

Stunned by the vehement outpouring, Harry and Gabrielle sat there, blinking. Finally, Gabrielle found her voice, "Don't feel bad. We still love you and your parents really aren't that bad. They had a few faux pas but nothing truly serious. No 'half-breed' remarks or sexual innuendo."

"Or boy-who-lived cracks combined with a 'where's the gold' question," continued Harry.

Amidst her tears, Hermione offered a slim smile which was Harry and Gabi's goal in the first place. After wiping her face, Hermione muttered, "I must be a sight."

Harry wasn't sure what exactly to say but took his cue from his brand new wife. When Gabi waved off the statement, Harry added, "Not at all."

Cocking an eyebrow, Hermione zeroed in on Harry, "You've always been a bad liar, Harry."

Shrugging, he muttered, "Really, I've seen you worse."

Gabrielle rolled her eyes and shook her head, "You're not helping. Do us a favor and go ask Blinken for a snack."

With a smile, Harry gave her a kiss and dutifully answered, "Yes, dear."

.oOo.

After dinner, Harry and Gabrielle were walking down the path to the guest house, arms wrapped around each other. They were making slow progress but they didn't seem to mind. Marie had pulled her daughter aside and offered the use of the guest house so the newlyweds could have some privacy over the next few days.

"Shall we go to London tomorrow or the next day?" he asked.

Confused she asked in turn, "Why?"

With an innocent grin, he answered, "Ring shopping. We can check the family vault and if nothing in it agrees with you, we can then see what the best of London, Paris, Antwerp or anywhere else on the planet has to offer for you."

Her surprised expression turned to hunger. Pace quickening, Gabrielle said to her husband, "Hurry, we need to get to the bedroom as fast as possible."

.oOo.

An hour later, two naked, sated Potters lay entwined in grey silk sheets.

Harry was beyond feeling. Growing up in the verbally and physically abusive household that resided at 4 Privet Drive had truly damaged his psyche.

All his formative years, he yearned for the slightest sign of affection or even approval from his aunt and uncle. By the time he was 8 or 9 he would interpret a day free of abuse as affection, well, maybe not affection per se. Tolerance maybe is a better word. He was under no illusion that they cared for him, even at that young age. But if they didn't hit him, or shout and curse at him, young Harry Potter considered it as a sign of tolerance at least. In reality, the lack of abuse was usually because of a more base reason. Vernon was hung over or tired. Petunia was preoccupied with a scrumptious bit of gossip. Dudley had a new game that held his attention for a full day.

Later in life, just before and even after his Hogwarts letter arrived, Harry still craved that affection. Despite the fact that he hated the threesome with every bone in his body, he wanted them to love him.

The pertinence of his history was the source of his feeling, or rather not feeling. He and his Gabi had just experienced the fullness of a physical expression of love between a man and a woman. As Gabrielle lay her head on his chest, he was flooded with feelings and thoughts. Affection. Desire. Attraction. Lust. Wonder. Delight. Giddiness. Joy. Contentment.

Underneath it all was an feeling that he couldn't name and it would occasionally blot out the rest like the noonday sun smothers the light of a small candle. When he reached out to touch this feeling, to embrace it, the feelings quickly threatened to overpower him. The feeling was like thirty foot waves crashing on the beach with a terrible, unstoppable beauty. An inferno of gorgeous fire. The magnificent majesty of a typhoon.

Fifty years later, he would admit to her that he was just beginning to love her, though he didn't realize it at the time.

Embracing the Potter family motto (Fortune Favors the Bold), Harry opened his heart to this feeling and felt the fullness of his love for his wife. His eyes filled with tears and he began to shake slightly.

Blinking away her half sleep, Baroness Gabrielle Potter raised her head from her husband's chest and began to inquire what was wrong. She had been drowsing while deep in her magic, savoring its reaction to their lovemaking.

Veela are very complex creatures that are underestimated due to the rampant prejudice that considers them no better than magical prostitutes. In reality, there is an incredible unity of emotion, magic and love in Veela that is unmatched in nature. The only other being that comes close to this unity is the Phoenix – though in a very different way.

In retrospect, she knew that he was her bond mate since first meeting her Harry. The signs were all there magically, emotionally and intellectually.

As she began to trust herself and her magic, she began to bind herself to Harry – to give into the insistent demands of her magic. She fell in love with him. Quickly, efficiently and completely.

Her magic responded to this, growing, expanding and allowing her to access the fullness of her powers. She was fully capable of not only creating the well known Veela fireball, but she could actually control fire. Not as well an Elemental, but she exercised far more control over fire than any Veela she or her father knew. Henri supposed that Harry's magical strength had an impact on her as well.

Her love for Harry grew and her heart had expanded when he put voice to his own love for her.

Now she was his wife, he, her husband. The lock clicked open, the bolt thrown back and she had given herself completely to him. They had made love with a passionate abandon that had overwhelmed her. Veela do not have painful experiences when making love for the first time therefore she was taken by surprise and almost rendered unconscious by the power of her orgasm.

Afterward, they lay there in the early evening, the cool breeze playing across their bodies. For a quick moment, she had been afraid of the intensity of the experience. His softly caressing hand ran down her back and gently cupped her bum. She smiled and banished the fear, replacing it with desire. In all her life, she had never contemplated wanting someone as bad as she wanted Harry. Mind, body and soul, she was his and he was hers.

Awaking from her light slumber, she had felt his jerky attempts at smothering his tears. Propping herself on her elbows, she gently kissed him and ran her fingers through his hair. "Love, what troubles you?"

He didn't respond with words, rather he embraced her and pulled her close. "I love you so much; I can't even begin to describe it. I wish that I had words..."

The soft smile that graced her face filled him with relief. She would not mock him. She would only love him with all the capacity of her glorious heart.

"I love you," he breathed.

"I love you, too, husband. Make love to me again and again and again," and she kissed him.

And he kissed her back.

.oOo.

(International Magical Tribune Headline)

SIX BRITISH AURORS KILLED, DARK MARK CAST OVER 'KILLING FIELD'

.oOo.

Unsurprisingly, they missed breakfast the next day. And lunch.

Around five o'clock, the newlyweds wandered into the main house whispering 'sweet nothings' to each other. Their light laughter and muted discussion caused just enough of a ripple in the atmosphere of the summer house to signal the other occupants that the newest married couple in France had rejoined them.

"Bonjour, mama!" exclaimed Gabrielle as the Potters entered the dining room.

With a wry smile, Marie first traded a look with her husband and then responded, "Bonjour milady Potter."

Impossibly, Gabrielle's smile widened and Harry's softened. "We've been to London," Gabrielle announced and held out her left hand.

She was wearing a Potter family heirloom ring; a two carat flawless round diamond surrounded by sapphires. The wedding band was a plain circlet of gold to match her husband's ring.

After much 'ooh-ing' and 'ahh-ing' by Marie, Hermione and Alice everyone sat for dinner. As the food appeared, Harry mentioned, "We saw Fleur at the bank."

Serving herself the tornadoes of beef, Marie asked, "Oh? How is she?" In an undertone, Marie added, "The girl never writes."

Harry smirked and glanced across the table to Gabrielle. The younger sister gave her tinkling amused laughter and answered, "She is well. Quite excited and put out at the same time. She vacillated between excited about her date with Bill Weasley," here she gave Hermione a knowing look, "And being put out that she hadn't been here for the signing of the contract."

The soft laughter rippled around the table. As a sign of everyone's appetite, conversation was put on hold for a good fifteen minutes. The elder Grangers had ambled across the estate for the bulk of the day, picnicking near a stream at the rear of the property.

Hermione was still miffed with her parents and chose to read at the beach. She was tanning nicely, but Hermione was still was envious of Gabrielle. Her friend's skin tanned to the perfect bronze matching her hair and making her even more gorgeous than Hermione could have imagined possible. Nevertheless, a day in the sun had whetted the bushy-haired witch's appetite.

Harry was nicely bronzed as well. He'd taken to running in the morning without his shirt on and combined with studying on the beach or poolside, he too was bronzed and toned.

The Potter Lord sat at the table, idly finishing his meal. His primary focus was the young woman across the table from him. Gabi seemed to shine as she told the story of bumping into his sister-in-law heading into Gringotts. I could just sit and watch her all day.

The delightful smells of the meal seasoned the atmosphere as conversation picked up. Harry could tell that the elder Grangers were on their best behavior. As they described their wanderings of the day, they solicited not only Henri and Marie's experiences of the property, but also those of Gabrielle. Harry caught Hermione watching her parents with a sharp eye and gave her a little smile to let her know that he wasn't carrying a grudge. Internally he huffed a bit, It's about time they act like the adults they purport to be.

He held his tongue and let the moment of pique pass. Family is about forgiving Gabrielle had told him once. Since he meant what he said about Hermione being the sister of his heart, he decided to apply his wife's maxim and forgive Steven and Alice. They had just better not do it again.

Coffee was served after a delightful crème brulee. Since the weather was fine, the family and guests were all to go out on Henri's sailboat, Lady Marie the next day. After a decent period of attention to their guests, Gabrielle caught Harry's eye and flickered her eyebrows.

Harry smothered a smile and stood, "Mum, the meal was excellent as usual. I'm afraid the day has worn me out, so Gabrielle and I will bid you all an early good night."

No one was even remotely fooled by the falsehood, yet everyone acknowledged the statement. As Harry and Gabi left the room, Harry heard Hermione mutter, "Sleep well my friends."

.oOo.

(International Magical Tribune Headline)

BRITISH MINISTER FUDGE'S POPULARITY AT ALL TIME LOW

.oOo.

"Prepare to tack!" Harry called.

When everyone had responded, Harry made the next ritual call, "Helm's a-lee!" and spun the helm to port. He ducked as the boom swung from port to starboard as the boat shifted tack.

The seas were pleasantly lively and the wind sharp so the impromptu crew of the Lady Marie was thoroughly enjoying themselves. They were making a long reach to clear out of the small bay at the head of which White Rock was nestled. Henri planned for the group to sail to a small island off the coast for lunch. They would eat dinner on the way back in the ship's galley. While they loaded stores, Marie had muttered to Harry as she passed him a box full of bread, "Unless I get annoyed and use the Stability and Wind charms to get us home in an hour."

Harry had laughed until Henri beckoned the young man. "Harry, you will pilot us out to the island." At the first hint of panic from his son-in-law, Henri smiled and squeezed Harry's shoulder, "I will be next to you the entire time. Don't worry, it's actually quite fun." In an undertone he added, "It's the only time I get to boss Marie around."

"I heard that!"

Returning to the present, Harry nodded as Hermione, Alice and Gabrielle worked the clew lines and adjusted the trim of the sail. Hermione had read two books on sailing and had been in a dither about the type of boat the Lady Marie was. "Is it a schooner? No, it can't be that big…can it? Oh no, with my luck it will be a lateen rigged snow that's run on a combination of magic and manpower."

Harry and Gabrielle had just laughed at their friends worries, reassuring her as best they could.

Watching the crew work, Harry was impressed. Gabrielle was a very good sailor and Hermione had picked up her role quite well. Grinning at Henri, he admitted, "It is pretty fun."

Doffing his shirt and tossing it into the cabin, Harry leaned back on the lifelines and pulled Gabrielle into his side. She was wearing a bikini top and shorts to go with her thick rubber soled canvas shoes. Henri smiled and moved off, mentioning something about securing something forward.

Now that the large boat was on a steady course, everyone relaxed and enjoyed the ride. Hermione eyed the mast as if she wanted to climb it to see the top of world. Alice and Steven sat on top of the cabin and stretched out, talking softly. Henri caught up with his love on the forecastle and surprised her by tickling her sides.

As Marie's laughter and playful shrieks wafted aft, Harry watched his wife through new prescription sunglasses and whispered, "Love you."

She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. "I've never been happier." Gabrielle lifted her own sunglasses and kissed her husband softly. "We need one of these for ourselves," she declared as she indicated the sailboat. Glancing around to see if anyone could hear, she whispered, "I'd like to make love to you on deck, under the stars."

He smiled back and shook his head. "We'll go look at boats tomorrow," he jokingly replied.

Her laughter bubbled up and over. He watched the sail and smoothly steered the Lady Marie to 'keep the luff'. He had jokingly reminded Henri that he was British after all, he was sure he could work this French contraption. That had earned Harry a mock glare to which he merely responded, "Let's see…Trafalgar, Cape St. Vincent, The Nile…" which caused Henri to playfully turn his back on the young man.

Harry had tapped Henri on the shoulder and mentioned, "You do realize that Gabrielle is now British."

"And you are now French," Henri responded with mirth.

When Harry's amused expression turned puzzled, Henri explained. "Because you are magical the citizenship legalities are different as a magical marriage is different than a non-magical marriage. As you know, there is no divorce in the magical world. It is impossible. Now, you both now hold dual citizenship in Great Britain and France. Your children will be either French or British, only you and Gabrielle will be both."

"Oh."

The day was wonderful and Hermione piloted the Lady Marie home. The wind and sea picked up at sunset and they had to change course quite a few times as the wind shifted points. Henri wanted to go as fast as possible in order to get home before it got too late, so he was coaxing all he could from the Lady Marie.

Harry was sitting on the deck, leaning on the front of the cabin. Gabrielle was nestled between his legs and the two were silently enjoying the early evening. The stars were full out and Harry was agog at the beauty of the night sky. With the sinking of the sun, the temperature cooled a bit, so Harry and Gabrielle had put on long sleeved T-shirts.

A shadowy shape plopped down next to them, which identified itself when Hermione informed them, "Your dad has the helm." After a considering pause, she asked, "Is it always this beautiful at night?"

The question was obviously for Gabrielle, who answered, "Unless it's going to storm, yes it usually is."

The three friends sat there in contented silence as the heavens revolved overhead in their ancient dance of dark and light.

.oOo.

The rest of the week went well. After a few more days, lessons restarted and the teens put their collective nose to the grindstone. Harry and Hermione had an unspoken agreement to savor each moment they had together and Hermione thanked Gabrielle on more than one occasion for sharing Harry to such an extent the week after they married.

Two days before Hermione and her parents were due to leave, an owl swept down to Harry as the threesome finished their morning run. Opening the note, he frowned. Holding up the parchment, he told the other two, "Sirius wants me to Floo call him. That's it."

"Maybe he has something he can only say in person," opined Hermione.

Rolling his eyes, Harry responded, "You don't say."

They wandered into the main house and Harry called out the address listed in the letter.

"Padfoot's doghouse!"

Sticking his head in the fire, Harry closed his eyes and waited for the sickening spinning sensation to pass. When it did, he opened his eyes to see Sirius sitting at a table in front of the fireplace. His godfather didn't notice Harry in the fire, so Harry glanced around to see who else might be present. No one else was in the dingy, cramped room so he called out, "Oi! Padfoot!"

Sirius lolled his head Harry's way and the young man could see that his godfather was in a bad way. Puffy, pale cheeks and bloodshot eyes were underneath lank, dirty hair. If Harry didn't know better, he'd swear that Sirius was back in Azkaban.

His face creasing into a frown, Harry asked, "Are you alright, Sirius?"

Pursing his lips, the Prisoner of Azkaban silently shook his head. He rubbed his face once, twice and then croaked, "No, I'm not. I'm about to fail you again."

Alarmed now, Harry demanded, "Sirius, what the fuck is going on?"

Without meeting Harry's eyes, Sirius answered in a dead voice, "Albus. He says that he 'may not be able to help me much longer' if you don't come back to Hogwarts."

Harry's stomach clenched. His guts twisted until he wanted to puke. Sweat broke out on his suddenly clammy face. Harry shut his eyes in a vain attempt to block it all out.

"I'm sorry, Harry." Sirius was openly weeping now. "I, I…" in a whisper he finished, "I can't go back. It won't kill me, but it'll be worse than death. It'll be the kiss."

Nerveless, Harry nodded his comprehension. Rage began to form deep in his belly where all the ugly parts of us live. Without warning, Harry screamed.

Sirius jumped and then sat there, staring at his godson in the fire. "I'm so sorry…" he sobbed.

Shaking his head, Harry began weeping himself. "It's not your fault, Padfoot. It's that long haired manipulative old bastard." Harry's green eyes burned with hatred when he spat, "I may have to kill him before this is all over."

Realization hit Harry like a cricket bat to the back of his head. Stunned, he muttered, "Gabrielle…"

Sirius covered his face again, "I know." After a long moment, he regained his composure and sat up straight. "I've read through the Hogwarts by-laws, the professional code of conduct for professors, the student rules and the magical laws concerning education. They can't deny Gabrielle admission, nor can they prohibit you two from cohabitating. Hell, if the Headmaster grants it, you can be day students and Floo in every day."

Harry snorted in disgust, "Somehow, I don't think that fucker will be so kindly disposed."

"True."

A long minute later, Harry shook his head and faced his waiting and sorrowful godfather. "Look, I've got to go. This is just a lot to take in but I want you to know that I don't blame you at all."

Sirius' head dropped and that vacant 'Azkaban-look' came over him. "I should just take the kiss and get it over with."

Enraged again, Harry shouted, "Goddam you! Don't you fucking do that!"

Shocked, Sirius could only nod.

"Promise me! Swear that you will keep yourself safe!"

With the hint of a smile, Sirius picked up his wand and made the oath.

Puffing a bit with emotion, Harry nodded and asked, "Can I contact you at this Floo address from here on out?"

When Sirius nodded Harry finished, "Ok, I've gotta go." His face softening, Harry added, "I love you Sirius, be safe," and pulled back before Sirius could say anything further.

.oOo.

Gabrielle was concerned. Watching Harry's body, she could tell that the discussion with his godfather was not going well. She shared a look or two with Hermione and the worry was etched on her bushy-haired friend's face.

When Harry pulled out of the fire and she saw the tears on his enraged face, Gabrielle's concern ratcheted up to alarm in a microsecond.

He turned his face to her and the first words out of his mouth sent her alarm to terrified fear.

"I'm so sorry."

"What is it?" she rasped out of her dry throat.

Harry laid it all out, as Sirius had told him. Surprisingly, Hermione reacted the strongest.

"Unbelievable! Blackmail!" The smartest witch of the age stormed up and down the sitting room while Harry took Gabrielle into his arms.

A few minutes later, Gabi stood and pulled her husband up. "Come, we must talk to Papa. I'm fairly certain that the old man is not aware of our marriage and has not taken into account two things."

Harry was still reeling so he only looked at her with a blank expression. Hermione, though, was smiling.

"First, your father in law is the Foreign Minister of France and you are also a citizen of this country."

"Secondly?"

"Secondly, he has now officially pissed off this Veela."

.oOo.

"Merde."

Henri was sitting behind his desk and vexed to boot. Usually, when a matter had him twisted this way and that, he would lean back in his chair and stare at the ceiling. The lack of anything visually to focus on helped his mind drift and break out of constraints that were keeping him from finding a solution.

He was currently leaning back in his chair and had been doing so for thirty minutes. No solution was forthcoming.

"Harry," he began without sitting up straight, "I will be frank with you. Your godfather is the victim of a grave miscarriage of justice. Any sane person who we present these facts to would agree. I could authorize granting him political asylum in France. However," he raised a finger in the air to emphasize his point, "There is absolutely no possibility that I could convince President Balfour and le Confederation to prevent him being extradited to Britain as an escaped convict. To do so would require us to break the existing extradition treaty that is in effect with Britain and that is not possible."

Harry's heart had been sinking the entire time Henri had been speaking. It was obvious the man wanted to help Harry. Wanted to help Sirius even though he'd never met the man. However, his hands were tied.

"The method to defeat a blackmailer is to do that which is being threatened. If one has been unfaithful and the blackmailer threatens disclosure, the person is best served by disclosing the infidelity thereby removing the illicit leverage. However, to apply that model in this situation would be fatal for Mr. Black." Henri now looked at Harry and with a sardonic expression finished, "Not the best of moves for the long term."

Marie was furious and had left the room after fifteen minutes. Her outrage hadn't allowed her to be still for any period.

Harry found it hard to meet Gabrielle's eye. Shame fell over him like a blanket. The undeserved guilt that he had failed her in some way was pounding through him. With no warning, her voice was in his ear, "It's not your fault, mon cher. I love you and will go with you to Scotland."

Closing his eyes in relief, Harry sagged in his chair.

A/N

1. I own nothing.

2. Recommendation for this chapter is one I've recommended before and throw out there again – An Inconvenient Truth by the Old Crow. An excellent story.

3. Thanks to all who have taken the time to review the first chapter and patiently awaited this second installment. As you can see, each chapter will encompass a year, so chapter 3 will be all of Harry & Gabrielle's fifth year. Expect it to be longer than chapter 1. I imagine it to be about 40-50k words. Don't expect it before the New Year, but as with this chapter, I hope the wait is worth it. See you next time - muggledad