CHAPTER 2:

MON AMI

It proved to be an interesting meeting. Hermione's parents were bemused to discover that the French family included three part-humans (and the non-human part were analogous to the Sirens of Greek myth), and a detective called Hercule whose ancestor was the inspiration for his fictional namesake, THE Hercule Poirot. That being said, the Grangers knew enough French to hold a conversation with the family, and given that a family made up of a number of part-Veelas were viewed in much the same way as Muggleborns and their family were, the two families had more than a little common ground.

Meanwhile, Bill Weasley (who, along with Charlie, decided to Apparate here early) had nudged Harry, and said, "Snagged yourself a part-Veela girlfriend, eh? Lucky sod."

"She's not my girlfriend," Harry had protested, though a small portion of his mind said Yet, and another, smaller portion kept on screaming eagerly Yes, yes yes!

Ron hadn't felt left out, thankfully, as he got to talk to Audrey in person for the first time. Audrey spoke English rather haltingly (her written English was better than her spoken English), but she and Ron got along famously, discussing various chess moves, and Audrey finally introducing him to Go. Marie, meanwhile, chattered away in broken but enthusiastic English to Fred and George.

After a while, Harry got to talk to Fleur alone, or at least semi-alone, just slightly apart from everyone else. Hermione's parents had gone off with Remus, Bill and Charlie to get the water, and Hermione was chatting away with Hercule in French, presumably about one of his cases. "So, Harry, your summer was good?" Fleur asked in her accented English.

Harry shrugged. "At least once I got away from the Dursleys," he said. "And you?"

"Very excellent, though while I am grateful to your godfather for his generosity…I am uncomfortable being here. I mean, have you seen how most of the wizards dress?"

Harry nodded. "The Weasleys could pass as Muggles, and you and your family certainly do. But, well…I feel sorry for that poor guy who got Obliviated right in front of me. Ten times a day, the Obliviator said. Is that healthy?"

"No," Fleur said.

"I once had a teacher that handed out Memory Charms like candy," Harry remarked. "Gilderoy Lockhart," he added, upon seeing her look.

"Oh, that vantard," Fleur remarked disparagingly. "He was good-looking and pleasant, I will give you that, but Papa showed me why he was possibly a liar. The books are well-written, though…for fiction."

Harry laughed at that. "He probably got someone else to write them for him."

Fleur laughed as well, her amusement having a musical sound. "I heard something about what had happened, about how you and Ronald exposed him. And you showed me that scar from when you faced that Basilisk. A ridiculously dangerous thing to do. But back to our original topic. I am uncomfortable here not just because I feel like one of the only people who has made an effort to dress as a Muggle…"

"And you do a very good job at it, Fleur," Harry said to her.

"Merci. But it is not just that. Many of those here are not used to Veela and part-Veela. We are more common in Europe, but not in the British Isles. We are novelties. I believe some Veela and part-Veela hire themselves out as…" She asked her father a question in French. Hermione, who understood it, blushed, and seemed to question Fleur. It was Hermione who supplied the answer: exotic dancers. "Ah, yes. Exotic dancers is the accepted British euphemism. Though sometimes they degrade themselves further and sell their…services, if you understand what I mean. Hermione, I apologise for embarrassing you."

"That's okay, Fleur," Hermione replied, still blushing, before returning to her conversation with Hercule.

Harry winced. "You sort of told me that Veela were considered sex objects before, you and your mother. You're worried someone may end up…well…not taking no for an answer."

"Harry, Papa and Maman have taught me various ways to deal with such a person. Leaving aside using hexes and jinxes to deter them, I know some martial arts to be able to defend myself should I lose my wand. Most wizards sneer at hand-to-hand combat, but should any try to touch me, they will remember what happens next for a long time. And I can always use a fireball. The advantage of being a part-Veela, as long as you have the power, is to be able to use fireballs with impunity. Fire is an excellent deterrent, no?" She sighed, looking at Ron and Audrey chatting away. "I would rather it not happen in the first place, obviously. In addition, this place is so…chaotic. I like order and…elegance."

Harry looked around at the bustling wizards. "I see what you mean."

Lunchtime came, and Dan Granger, Hermione's father, offered to light the fire for Arthur Weasley, after Arthur's rather comical, if well-meant, attempts to use matches. What followed was a brief but interesting explanation by Dan Granger about matches and what he knew of how they worked. He proved to know quite a bit: he was a maxillofacial surgeon (Hermione said dentist because most people didn't understand what that was), had studied the history of jaw injuries and diseases, and Arthur's eyes widened comically when he learned of phossy jaw from Dan(1). Arthur of course was relieved to learn that matches were made with red phosphorous instead of white phosphorous, because he looked about ready to throw the matches away.

As they waited for the fire to heat up, Arthur pointed out various Ministry officials. Harry found the concept of a Department of Mysteries interesting, and resolved to ask Sirius and Dumbledore on the matter later. He was thinking about where his future would lie lately, and was still undecided.

Eventually, Percy came back from whatever errand he had been running. "What a mess!" Percy lamented. "I swear, most of the things Madam Baum and the rest of us are doing lately is cleaning up after Bagman!" The officious former Head Boy and Prefect of Gryffindor was running a hand through his hair. "And then there's that whole mess with Bertha Jorkins…"

Harry nodded. Percy had complained about her before at the Burrow. Sirius had remarked that the Bertha Percy knew was different to the one he had known: she had had an excellent memory for gossip. So for her to be scatter-brained and forgetful was a marked change to him.

Fleur had politely refused the sausages Arthur cooked over the fire, instead opting to eat some sandwiches her mother had made. Partway through the meal, Ludo Bagman showed up.

Neither Harry nor Fleur thought that much of him before, as his lack of organisation (or indeed common sense) had become known to them both by now. Their impressions weren't improved by a man who was wearing Quidditch robes, bold as brass, with yellow and black stripes and the picture of a wasp on his chest. He had been with the Wimbourne Wasps and the English National Quidditch Team, from what Harry had heard so far. He was once a fit man, but had gone to seed, looking like an overgrown, pudgy schoolboy with a lot of enthusiasm, and a broken nose.

Arthur introduced them, with Bagman doing the usual bit of surprise when he learned that Harry Potter was amongst them. The twins seemed about to make a wager with him, until Sirius nudged them, and hissed something under his breath at them. Bagman did seem interested in their fake wands, though, and bought a couple for five Galleons apiece. As Arthur began making some tea, Bagman said he was looking for Baum, as the Bulgarians were making some sort of demand he couldn't understand. They had just moved onto the subject of Bertha Jorkins when Amber Baum arrived.

For a moment, Harry thought that the woman in front of him was his aunt. She had the same thin, horsey face and giraffe-like neck. There was even that same faint air of disapproval about her. She was dressed in a somewhat severe suit, and looked very like a Muggle businesswoman.

"Bagman, I've been looking for you everywhere," she said, her voice having an edge of annoyance and impatience. "The Bulgarians have been insisting on a dozen more seats for the Top Box."

"Is that what they were after?" Bagman asked. "I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. A bit of a strong accent, you know."

The woman sighed. "Tea, Madam Baum?" Percy offered.

Baum turned to Percy, did a brief double-take in surprise, and then said, "Oh, Weasley. Yes, thank you very much." Her demeanour became far less irritated and annoyed, and the resemblance to Petunia Dursley diminished significantly. Indeed, Harry could sense a certain good nature to her in her tired smile of gratitude. "I think I need some tea at the very least. I think I will need to find some very strong coffee before the end of this." Her eyes fell onto Arthur. "Oh, Arthur. I thought I should warn you, Ali Bashir is making a fuss again. He wants you to lift the embargo on magic carpets. I know what you're going to say, about them being proscribed items and all, but he's desperate to export here, corner the market. He says the British laws are too Draconian."

Baum was introduced to the others present. Harry was pleased to note that she didn't gape in awe when she learned who he was. "I knew your mother in school, actually," she said with a rueful smile. "A pity she wasn't in Ravenclaw with talent like hers." She seemed more excited to meet Hercule Delacour, despite the fact that the man was responsible for giving her old boss a stroke.

"Keeping busy, Baum?" Bagman asked.

"Kept busy is more like it. Organising Portkey travel across five continents is a veritable nightmare of organisation, never mind the paperwork. And once everyone is here…the poor Obliviators are being run ragged. I don't know who to feel sorry for most, the Obliviators or the Muggles they're mind-wiping."

"I expect you'll both be glad when this is over, huh?" Arthur asked.

Bagman then began to make some ridiculously big hints towards some coming event they were organising. Harry and Fleur knew what he was talking about, and they couldn't blame Baum for hurriedly silencing him. "I'm sorry," she said to them as she hurriedly finished her tea, "but we can't divulge details. Even though it seems to be one of the worst-kept secrets in the world," she added, glaring at Bagman. She then looked at Harry and Fleur, as well as the other children present. "Of course, you will learn soon enough. Always assuming you don't know already…" she said, looking at them. Seeing their looks, she sighed. "Never mind. Bagman, we have some Bulgarians to placate. Weasley, if you're not busy, please come with me. Merlin knows I need someone remotely sane with me…"

Her tea was only half-drunk as she handed it back to Percy, who put it down, and stood, following Bagman and Baum. "She looks like she's under a lot of pressure," Emma Granger remarked.

"It may be seen as a dead-end posting, but in truth, the Department of International Magical Cooperation does a lot of work, particularly with trade and sporting events," Arthur said. "She's unusual in that she's a Muggleborn in such a relatively high position. Sadly, I think there won't be many others."

Sirius scoffed. "Baum's lucky. Or unlucky, depending on your thoughts on the matter. Sadly, Blood Purity views still hold sway in the Ministry. Nothing as blatant as actual overt discrimination, but, well, if Ron and Hermione ever went for the same position, Ron would win nine times out of ten."

"Which is why I keep up with Muggle subjects," Hermione said.

Fleur looked at Hermione. "How do you manage that?"

Hermione smiled. "Before Hogwarts sent me the letter, I very nearly considered getting my O-Levels in a couple of years. That's how far ahead I was." Her face fell. "Not that it won me many friends…"

"Well, you have us, don't you?" Harry asked.

The bushy-haired girl smiled again. He was glad she dropped all of those subjects from last year. Her hunger for knowledge was one thing, as was her eagerness to excel. But to nearly kill yourself through exhaustion was another. He kicked himself for not noticing the signs sooner. "You're not going to run yourself ragged again, are you?" he asked.

"Not that much. I've already sat for my O-Levels, shortly after we came back from Hogwarts. I'm actually more worried about my A-Levels, not to mention the OWL and NEWTS," she said. "I mean, Hogwarts and magic is great, but I need to think about more for my future, just in case."

"Well said," Hercule said, nodding in admiration.

Harry agreed with her. He would probably remain in the magical world, true, but he couldn't blame Hermione for wanting to hedge her bets. Especially given her quixotic nature: when she first met Kreacher, she had kicked up a fuss about House Elves until Sirius gently explained the symbiotic nature of the relationship between House Elf and their master. She still didn't like it, and intended to find ways to improve their lot, but at least she wouldn't be trying to free any willy-nilly. She even interviewed Kreacher, who seemed to find the concept of questions being asked of him a novelty. At first an irritating novelty, but he seemed to open up slightly when he realised Hermione was genuinely interested.

"Well, I wish you the best of luck in our world," Sirius said. "Merlin knows we need more skilled wizards and witches in prominent positions, regardless of their birth. I won't blame you if you seek your fortune in the Muggle world, though, as long as you're happy."

Hermione nodded. "Thanks, Sirius."

"Madam Baum is admirable in her tenacity," Hercule said sagely.

Arthur Weasley nodded. "I don't think Bashir's going to give her any rest on the magic carpets issue, though…"

Soon, the time came for them to be seated, though not before Harry, Sirius, and Hercule bought a bunch of Omnioculars. And soon, they were making their way to the massive stadium for the finals of the Quidditch World Cup…

CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:

And there you have it. Crouch's replacement, a bit of fluff and friendship, just killing time until the World Cup.

Now, in case you guys are going to howl about Hermione having basically a foot in both worlds, I wouldn't be surprised if she tried this, even in canon. And I wouldn't be surprised if, by the time she was twelve, she could have taken her O-Levels if she made the effort. I'm sure her parents probably encouraged her to take her O-Levels after her third year. I've also nipped SPEW in the bud, or at least made it so that Hermione is a bit more thoughtful and less quixotic.

I also hope you like Baum. I wanted someone who, while wrung dry by the bureaucracy in her department, nonetheless does her job out of a sense of duty (like Crouch), but is considerate enough to her underlings (unlike Crouch). You'll notice, for example, that not only does she called Percy 'Weasley' (as opposed to Crouch's 'Weatherby'), but also asks him to come along. She doesn't like Bagman because she views him as sloppy and stupid, unable to think of details, and only capable of grand gestures and squandering funds (which is frankly true). Unfortunately, like Crouch in canon, she's going to fall under the Imperius. Whether she shares Barty Crouch Senior's fate in canon is another matter.

1. 'Phossy jaw' was a horrific condition suffered by those who worked in match factories, at the time when matches were mostly made from white phosphorous. Imagine having your jaw rot. Not a pleasant thought. I made Emma Granger a maxillofacial surgeon in Is Your Great Aunt an A.I?!, in tribute to a fic I had seen her as such in (I am certain it is Sympathetic Properties by Mr Norrell), but here, I wanted to mix it up a little.