Harry was worried for Hedwig when she didn't appear after their move to number twelve. Hedwig had always been able to find her. Her worry manifested itself in cleaning, or rather disinfesting number twelve, to Kreacher's both hate and grudging respect. It was strange how spells came to her mind without prompting, her wrist moving in unfamiliar motions on automatic – how sometimes, she didn't have to say anything out loud for a spell to work.

Even with Elise's elaborate tale of time travel and World War Three and nuclear missiles and the Department of Mysteries, the fact that Harry was slowly becoming someone else – even it that someone was her – scared her.

Kreacher said that the wards protected them from the Ministry sensing her, them, doing magic, so Harry could use her wand without fear. Elise encouraged her to carry it around in her hand rather than in her back-pocket. Harry found herself trying to put it in her sleeve – even when she didn't have a sleeve. It was an unusual sensation, and then, of course, Elise presented her with a wand holster.

It felt like she'd regained a part of herself, and soon, Harry was staring at herself in a mirror as she held a wand, just…wondering. I look totally different.

But still, Hedwig's disappearance took up a lot of her brain-power, as worry confounded her and her imagination ran wild. Perhaps she was dead, perhaps she had left. Perhaps she'd been caught by muggles and was now spending time in a wildlife sanctuary with a tracker on her leg and a tag bearing a number. By the end of the week, Elise too, was worried.

Then the doorbell rang.

Downstairs at the time, Harry went to answer it, wary, wand in hand, as she knew that barely anyone could even see the townhouse, let alone knock. Peering through the spyhole, Harry's eyes widened before she opened the door quickly, tapping the many locks and bolts before turning the handle.

Once the door was open, she exclaimed, "Hedwig!" The snowy owl fluttered from the tall blonde woman's hand to Harry's outstretched one, the younger girl holding the owl carefully, but tightly, tears stinging her eyes. "Oh, Hedwig, I thought you were gone."

"She is perfectly well, ma fifille," the woman spoke, French accent only barely audible in her English, but more obvious as she spoke her mother-tongue. Harry looked up, and was momentarily enthralled with the beautiful teen, before a small, awe-filled voice caught her attention.

"Harry?"

Harry's head snapped sideways, eyes meeting the other girl's easily. Her name slipped out without consent from its owner – "Gabrielle. Gabrielle!" Harry could see flashes in her head, and her chest pounded and felt full with an emotion she couldn't name. "My Gabrielle."

"Harry – Harriet, Harry, Harry. Mine, mine, mine, mine…" Gabrielle came forwards, and Hedwig had the foresight to fly into the house as Gabrielle flung herself into Harry's waiting arms. Harry held on tightly, squeezing her dark green eyes shut just as firmly. Soon, the hug though became less full of desperation, and more longing, and of comfort.

"I've missed you so much and I didn't even know it," Harry whispered, unable to process everything flowing through her brain. Opening her eyes, Harry walked backwards, pulling Gabrielle with her as Fleur stepped inside, shutting the door as Kreacher came up from the kitchen.

"Creatures…" he muttered, shaking his head. "Lovely mistress will be happy…" he popped away, and a few seconds later, Elise apparated into the hallway, eyes only briefly settling on Gabrielle before the fell to Fleur.

The ensuing show had both Harry and Gabrielle staring in horror, as their lips connected and Fleur pushed Elise up against the wall, all over her as their bodies moulded into one.

"When are they going to stop?" Gabrielle watched, both equally riveted and disgusted. Harry was much the same.

It ended quickly though, as Elise trailed a hand over Fleur's side, and she jerked in a way that in no way meant pleasure. Elise disconnected them both, staring at her lover, before Harry made the tumultuous decision to watch as she unbuttoned her shirt. Underneath? Bandages – bandages that were tinged pink.

"You haven't cleaned these properly," Elise muttered, "You never were good at all those cleaning charms that Apolline was amazing at." Elise glanced at the two of them. "Harry, why don't you take Gabrielle up to your room and talk or something? I'm going to help Fleur heal up." Harry hesitated, looking to Gabrielle before nodding, taking her best friends hand and leading her up the dark staircase. Thank Merlin the house-elf heads are gone – and Mrs Black.

When they reached her bedroom, Gabrielle held her back. "Harry?" Harry turned to face her.

"What?"

Gabrielle stared at her, eyes full of conflict. "Are we just friends?"

Harry didn't know what she meant for a minute, but Gabrielle gave her time, the memories slowly filtering to the forefront of her mind.

Golden skin, smooth hands.

Harry swallowed.

"Oh. Uh. Well…we are friends, but…aren't we a little young for more?"

The French girl raised a perfectly-formed eyebrow. "Harry, I'm fourteen, unlike you right now – your birthday hasn't even come yet. I'm fine. I just don't want you to be uncomfortable." Her accent, unlike Fleur's, Harry noticed, was invisible. Maybe it's because of her maturation into a proper Veela. Gabrielle had certainly grown a lot in comparison to what Harry could – barely – remember of her the first time they met, in the Black Lake. "Harry?"

Harry blinked, before bringing her hands up to Gabrielle's face, leaning forwards and down a touch to kiss the girl, pressing their lips together for exactly three seconds before pulling back, hands moving to take Gabrielle's.

"It would be a bit weird to do that kind of thing this young, I agree," Gabrielle whispered, swinging their hands. "But you are my girlfriend, Harry, and I am yours, and I must claim you as mine if we wish to continue as we did in the last world. Now."

"How does it work again?" Harry could remember a rising feeling of warmth, and arms around her torso, but knew there was more to it than that.

"I make a nest in our safe place in this sanctuary," Gabrielle's grip tightened, "and I hold you until our bond has settled." Harry shut her eyes, swaying slightly as a barrage of memories – of feelings, rained down on her, comforting her and cradling her. "No-one must interrupt."

"Make your nest in here – I'll get us some food. Kreacher can make a hamper," Harry opened her eyes, squeezing Gabrielle's hands once before giving her a chaste kiss, letting go and rushing downstairs before the need to take Gabrielle's hands again grew too strong.

On reaching the ground floor, Harry went to the kitchen, slowing upon hearing muffled speech. Slowing, she approached the door, peering through the crack to find her sister and Fleur speaking together in a language that…was not English, and nor was it French. Harry's eyes became glued to them though as Elise's hands glowed slightly, pressing against Fleur's bare, weeping flesh, causing it to heal rapidly in front of her eyes.

I wonder if that's what Elise's potion did, too, Harry wondered, before the door swung open, revealing her as Kreacher came into the room. Elise and Fleur didn't stop whatever it was they were doing, not even glancing at either of them. Harry licked her lips, before remembering Gabrielle, looking down at the house-elf walking past her feet.

"Kreacher – Kreacher, Gabrielle and I need a hamper of food, and to be undisturbed for a while." Kreacher glanced at her, grumbling at 'the creature', which for some reason Harry didn't take offense to, when she absolutely should.

"What's got you so grumpy?" She questioned rhetorically, not expecting an answer – only to get one as Kreacher froze, eyes flickering between her and his cupboard rapidly. Memories flashed before her eyes, vivid and petrifying, laced with green and a darkness that made her want to be sick.

Harry went to the cupboard, swinging it open to reveal Kreacher's once-long-long treasures, the locket – blistered and blackened, stinking of basilisk – sitting in the middle.

"Horcruxes," Harry glared viciously, looking to Kreacher, pointing at him, anger rising as she remembered just what exactly was in her scar. "Get the basilisk venom you were using. The container needs to be opened for it to work."

"Yes mistress!" Kreacher gasped, sounding delighted and tearful, rushing off, forgetting he could apparate as Harry picked the locket up by it's chain, feeling the cloud of evil around it. Of course, that was when Elise and Fleur finished their little ritual, and upon feeling the darkness, made twin sounds of disgust.

"I had forgotten that we had to deal with those," Elise muttered darkly, gripping Fleur tightly as the French-woman pulled on her shirt once more. "I kept thinking of the muggles, and the war against them…I forgot we had to deal with Riddle's immortality too."

"Yes," Harry had only eyes for the locket, keeping it in her sight at all times as she placed it on the empty kitchen table, Fleur slipping off the edge of it as she did. Kreacher came back into the room. "Do you have it?"

"Yes, mistress," he was actually crying now. Harry motioned for him to come up to stand on the table, waiting until he did before speaking in Parsletongue, "Open."

The locket opened with a loud snap, a shockwave pushing Harry, Elise and Fleur back momentarily, but Kreacher didn't move, or give it any time to take a hold of any of them, gleefully pouring what looked to be an entire container of basilisk venom onto the soul-shred. It screamed a high-pitched scream that caused Fleur to let out her own yell at the pitch, before it finally died, leaving behind a smoking container. Kreacher immediately summoned a frying pan to his hand, banging it against the locket, even more thoroughly damaging it as the magic-infused pan bent and just…broke it.

"Feel better, Kreacher?" Harry asked, voice confident. She could feel Elise's gaze on her. Harry ignored it, taking out her wand and tracing a basic purifying rune on the table, filling it with her magic – maybe a little too much – and activating it, standing still as the magic swept through the kitchen and the rest of the house, banishing the latent remnants of the dark magic. It had the added effect of making it that much easier to breathe as the cloying atmosphere disappeared.

"Kreacher- is- very- happy," the house-elf emphasised his words by banging the pan, finally stopping as the locket broke in half. "Kreacher will live happily, knowing Master Regulus' orders are done and the locket is destroyed. Kreacher feels very much better." He lowered the pan, getting off of the table and snapping his fingers, causing the locket to disappear. "Does mistress and lovely-mistress and creature-mistresses want Kreacher to wear uniform like in the first future?"

"Yes, thank-you Kreacher," Elise replied, causing the house-elf to disappear. Harry felt a faint tug on her magic – I'm coming Gabrielle – and hurried to the cupboards, grabbing the loaf of bread and a couple of knives, and multiple spreads, along with an entire bowl of oranges. "And what are you going to do with that?"

"Gabrielle's making a nest – we're forming a bond," Harry explained, before waving to the both of them and leaving hurriedly, feet practically flying across the floor. "Sorry! No time!"

Elise watched her sister leave with a feeling of surprise. "I didn't think they would want to be bonded again so soon."

Fleur hummed, holding Elise to her close. "Mama and papa will not be happy when they discover this." Elise frowned, looking back to her partner.

"What happened, after you both came back?"

Fleur grimaced, "They were very worried after finding my sheets flecked with blood. I did not have access to anything to help my wounds – they very nearly festered. And you?" Fleur lifted the edge of Elise's shirt, eyes going wide at the indentations. "Mon amour…"

"It's fine. They're healed – I just have to make sure no-one sees them."

"And if you are Triwizard Champion, again?" Fleur questioned, causing Elise to shrug.

"Muggle wetsuit – it's warmer than a swimsuit, anyway, and safer. Do you think Gabrielle would ward it for me?"

"She would do anything for you if Harriet willed it," Fleur glanced upstairs, hackles rising. "She is marking your household with that nest."

"We should make our own," Elise suggested, murmuring. "Before Sirius returns here, Remus in tow. When they mark this household, no-one else will be able to settle."

"Too much magic, too much scent," Fleur grimaced, before Elise pressed a kiss to her jaw. "How would we bond?"

"As Harry and Gabby are," Elise replied, "but later, more…intimate."

"Of course. I look forward to relearning your body." Fleur looked down on her lover with dark eyes, Elise supressing her smirk as Fleur trailed off, going to the surrounding cupboards and cabinets, collecting their own selection of food – they would be less hungry than the other two, but they would be spending longer, so a large amount was gathered.

"Follow me," Elise whispered, before apparating upstairs to her room. She could feel Fleur even eight floors above her, and a few seconds later, Fleur appeared, wand flicking out to lock the door as she deposited the selection on a clean table, form shifting, imperceptible except to those who knew what to look for.

"I love you," Elise said simply. Fleur hummed, glowing a soft silver, hawk-like eyes turning an even darker orange.

"And I you, ma petite wix."