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The Little Veela that Could

Chapter Two: United We Stand

May 29th, 1995

Victor dove out of the sun, nearly taking Cedric's head off with a high speed pass a hundred meters or so above the highest tower of Hogwarts Castle.

The message was clear: Tag, you're it.

As the French Triwizard Champion looked up at the two wizards, she admired the interaction between two seekers who were seeking each other in turn. She realized early on that Victor had to hold back on occasion or Cedric would never manage a tag.

"Why aren't you up there with them? Isn't this part of your training?" Hermione had walked up behind Fleur as the statuesque Veela posed atop her own broom and floated along at head height.

"Zey are boz seekers. I like to fly, but my broom is not for competing. Zis one is more for comfort." The two witches looked on as Vicktor began to lead Cedric down an invisible slalom course between castle towers.

"Would... would it help you train if you had a better broom?"

"Oui. I should say, it would if I use ze better broom in ze Final Task. Zere is no way to tell what skill is needed and what is a waste, so we train some in all zings." Fleur turned to the younger witch to see Hermione studying the broom she was resting on.

"I didn't know that they had ones made for comfort. I have a broom; Harry's broom. It's important to me, but I think he would have wanted to see it used." Hermione looked back up to the two figures darting about over the battlements.

"I've never tried it myself, mind you, so I don't know how comfortable it is, but it's supposed to be the best broom in Hogwarts except maybe for what Victor's on."

"It is... what was ze name again... a Firebolt, no?" Fleur was surprised. This must be the broom Harry used to get past the dragon. Why would Hermione make such an offer? "I zink zat broom would get me up zer with zem. If you would allow me to use 'arry's broom for ze rest of ze year, I could teach you 'ow to use zis one. She is a good broom for relaxing in ze air. Zen we get you a broom which suits you during ze summer."

"Oh, I don't know. I mean, I've never liked flying on brooms. I thought I would die during my First Year flying lessons. Never went up again." Hermione was actually quite disappointed with that part of her education. She was a witch, was she not? All muggles knew witches flew on brooms. It's one of the things her parents were hoping to get to see once Hermione was legal to perform spell-work at home.

"'ermione, I 'ave seen ze brooms 'ogwarts teaches on and I would not touch zem wiz ze blasting curse. At Beauxbatons, we use good, safe brooms which do much of ze work for you. 'ere, zey teach you all on flying firewood. 'ow disgraceful." Fleur saw something in Hermione's eyes. Hope? Whatever it was, it was more positive than anything she had seen from the girl since Harry's death. "Did 'arry ever offer to take you up?"

"Y-yes, a few times. I just couldn't do it. We did go flying together once though. It was on the back of a Hippogriff. That was... well, it was nice." Her ever present heartache was pushed aside in favor of the warm feelings that night still generated. Hermione never realized how romantic riding Buckbeack with her arms around Harry had been until now.

Hermione wanted to have more in common with Harry, more to remember him by. Learning to fly a broom, eventually flying his own Firebolt, would really impress him. Well, it would if he could see her doing it.

"I'll go get the Firebolt. But... it's way up in Gryffindor tower. You may not get your chance to use it today."

"'op on be'ind me." Fleur scooted forward and then patted the broom shaft behind her. Hermione hesitated.

"Your room 'as a window, yes?" Hermione nodded. "Zen we shall fly to it! My broom may not be for racing, but she can fly well enough for zis."

Hermione cautiously mounted Fleur's broom behind the Veela. Her eyebrows rose as she discovered that this broom did indeed feel softer and more stable than the school broom she learned on. But how- wait. Hermione mentally berated herself for forgetting that she didn't need to see the effects of magic to feel them.

Five minutes later, Victor and Cedric were drifting through the shadow of the Astronomy tower when they spotted Hermione gliding up to them on Fleur's broom.

"Hermionie? You like brooms now?" Victor was surprised. She clearly stated her distaste for flying when they were dancing at the Yule Ball.

It was Hermione's turn to be surprised. This was the first time Victor got her name right on the first try.

"I need to learn how to fly. I may not be ready to try Harry's Firebolt today... but one day I will be." She decided to sidestep the issue of broom design for now. It was almost time.

"Well, I'm impressed. I know you've got brains enough for Ravenclaw, but you've also got the loyalty and work ethic of a Badger." Cedric was smiling at her. Perfect, he wasn't looking up.

Vwooosh!

Both seekers yelped and jerked back as a light blue silk clad cannon ball with silver-blonde hair shot past them from above and finished her first ever Wronski Feint about twenty meters off the ground.

"Sometimes I think Slytherin would have done much better if he were willing to take ambitious and cunning students regardless of blood purity." With that comment, Hermione followed Fleur down to the courtyard.

"Ve should punish girls for dis prank?" Victor was... well, to be honest, Victor was aroused by the girls' teamwork.

"Let's draw it out some, Vic." Cedric brought his eyes back up to Victor from observing the brown haired witch far below them. "That was the first smile I've seen on Hermione's face in months."

Victor nodded.

The chase was on.

-o\O/o-

"And there he is."

Four students with green and silver ties stopped their lunchtime stroll.

Black Lake was quiet and smooth behind them as they formed a half circle around the smooth black stone memorial on the shore opposite Hogwarts Castle.

"He doesn't look so damned heroic now, does he?" One upper year prefect, the leader of this particular expedition kicked a pebble across the polished surface. One of the girls giggled in support.

"We're here, so now what? You said you would bring some dragon dung with you." The other boy in the group was getting impatient. He was of the opinion that you were supposed to eat lunch during your lunch period, that or do something worth doing.

"Draco begged off. I thought he of all people would have wanted to do this, but..." He looked at the girls behind him. "You two may want to look away if you don't want to see the act... you can't say who did it if you didn't see them doing it, right?"

"This is sick. I'm leaving." The blonde girl turned to step away before a large hand wrapped around her wrist.

"I didn't know you liked Potty, Greengrass. Such bad taste in boys." The prefect spit out.

"I don't like him any more than you do. You just don't disrespect the dead in their graves. Have you no sense of tradition? Of family honor? We're all related to Potter if you look far enough into the past." Daphne Greengrass pulled free and began to walk away.

"I'll be sure to tell Draco you turned on us!" The other girl shot back.

"All you do is choke on his cock all day, Pansy. It's a wonder we ever hear your voice at all."

As Daphne continued back down the lakeside path, the prefect dropped trow and maneuvered himself over Potter's grave. She heard the other boy say something about supervised detention in a broom cupboard but knew they didn't have the political pull to make that work. Not even Draco could force that punishment through. Morgana knows he's tried.

As the Slytherin girl got far enough away not to hear individual words, the prefect started screaming. By the time Daphne turned to see what was wrong, Pansy Parkinson and the other boy had added their screams to his.

A quick spin to the ground was all that kept Daphne from catching a ball of fire in the chest herself. She risked opening her eyes just long enough to see that fireworks were erupting from the ground immediately around Potter's grave in a fountain of fire, light and noise.

"Protego!" Her shield deflected two more pyrotechnic shells before the first professor managed to arrive and begin disabling traps.

Two minutes later, Daphne was suffering the combined glares of Headmaster Dumbledore and her own Head of House, Professor Snape. She didn't hold back, not that she wanted to. Those idiots deserved to suffer for disturbing the dead.

-o\O/o-

Hermione scooped another fork full of scrambled eggs into her mouth. After a brief mental debate, she decided to have a second helping of bacon and sausage for the first time in months. Maybe this breakfast would be her chance to turn a corner and start improving her lot in life.

Today, she was going to go flying with Fleur again. Hermione, gasp, actually looked forward to it.

Hermione owed this change, once again, to a mirror with attitude. 'Any lighter and you're sure to float away' it said. On reflection, she knew that you weren't supposed to be able to see your hip bone so clearly. Her clothing was hanging loose recently, too. If nothing else, Hermione wanted to at least look normal. And to look like a normal girl – er – witch, she needed a bit more padding around the middle.

Of course, the day Hermione resolves to do something positive in her life is the day another owl lands in front of her during the morning delivery rush. The owl itself is not a particularly noteworthy owl, average in size and coloring and not unlike the hundreds of other owls that make deliveries to Hogwarts.

It took Hermione actually looking over the Ministry of Magic notice for her attempt at a normal breakfast to go right to Hell. Her left hand grabbed desperately at her chest as bits of egg and sausage fell from her open mouth.

The Ministry wanted Harry's wand.

- - - - -

June 4th, 1995

From the Office of the Minister for Magic

Hermione Granger,

It has come to the attention of the Ministry of Magic that you possess Harry Potter's Holly and Phoenix Feather wand. This wand has been declared a historic artifact by order of the Minister for Magic.

You are hereby ordered to release Harry Potter's wand into the protective custody of Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge or a duly appointed representative of the Minister for Magic.

On June 24th, the day of the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament, you will have the honor of symbolically relinquishing the wand to Minister Fudge. This will occur during the Final Ceremony and shortly after you make a speech; one which will be provided to you before the ceremony. No deviations from the approved script will be allowed.

Dolores Umbridge

Senior Under-Secretary

to the Minister for Magic

- - - - -

Hermione suppressed the fresh pain that still comes when someone mentions Harry. Anger prevailed. How could they ignore Harry's wishes? How could they take Harry's wand from her? How could they expect her to speak in front of a crowd without knowing what it is they want her to say?

The ministry owl barked at her.

"I don't have a reply. Go back to your owner." While the brown bird was not smart enough to understand what Hermione said, it did leave twenty minutes later after Hermione left the Great Hall and failed to return.

-o\O/o-

Albus fell back into his chair and reached for a lemon drop. Truth be told, he needed something stronger than sugar right now.

Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall were having a terrible row in the Headmaster's Office. Severus was demanding the Weasley twins be expelled immediately with all house points removed from Gryffindor. Minerva countered that no-one knew who had so heavily protected Harry Potter's burial site. In fact, the only thing that was well documented was the attempt by three of his snakes to desecrate the grave, which was an Official Ministry Historic Marker in case Severus forgot.

Severus of course pointed out that Daphne didn't actually see the desecration. He refused to comment on the fresh pile of fecal matter found on the black stone slab or the amount of burned skin on his young charge's posterior. There was clearly no burnt layers of cloth where a magical mortar shell made contact with his backside. Madam Pomfrey had to re-create half of the boys right buttock. Miss Parkinson was regrowing hair in the Hospital Wing overnight.

"Albus! I'm only going to say this one time..." Minerva looked back to the Headmaster from her last verbal tirade against Snape.

"Four hundred points from Gryffindor." Snape muttered just loud enough to officially count.

"You will reverse that or I shall see every Slytherin student fourth year and above in the school in detention for the rest of the year! I'll oversee them personally!" His comment was too petty to ignore for the proud Scott.

"Minerva, please be reasonable-" But the Headmaster was cut off.

"Reasonable? You let Severus take points for NO REASON without question. You have been sitting there quietly listening as this man insults both Harry and James Potter repeatedly and you say nothing. You who claim to have loved Harry like your own grandson?" The Deputy Headmistress almost couldn't speak, she was so angry.

"I am canceling both punishments as they are both without merit." After a deep breath, Albus looked over to Minerva.

"You may punish the three Slytherins as is appropriate to their crimes. We will all seek to find those who set the surprisingly elaborate defenses around Harry's memorial and they too will be punished as is appropriate to their crimes." Albus looked between his two most important faculty members before settling his gaze once more on the Head of Gryffindor House.

"You must realize, Minerva, that we now have the next generation of dark wizards here as students. They need special handling if we are to have any hope of swaying them to the light." She'd heard this before during less troubling times and it bothered her then too.

"You seek to turn dark wizards light by allowing them to bully and otherwise abuse the rest of the student population? How does that work? I've told you time and time again, Albus, that your plan isn't working. And what of the light wizards of the future? They come out of our school cowed and beaten. We've been teaching them to take the abuse without defending themselves; we've been teaching them that the authority figures won't defend them and in fact will defend their abusers." Minerva pinched the bridge of her nose.

In most cases that's exactly how the Ministry works. Heavy bribes tend to have that effect on public officials.

"I've been blindly supporting you long enough. I've let absurd punishments go unanswered for far too long. Albus, by the end of the year, Severus leaves this school or I will."

Without another word, Minerva McGonagall stormed out of the Headmaster's office. She didn't bother to hide her anger from staff or students that she passed by that evening, either. She really didn't know herself if she would follow through on her threat. She did know that if Snape continued as he normally does with his rewards and punishments then she would balance him point for point and detention for detention.

-o\O/o-

Fire sputtered and flared inside of a sizable fireplace situated in opposite a pair of large doors in the entry foyer to the Delacour family's manor house. Seconds later, a petit form shot out of the flames and bounced along the marble floor.

"Momma! I'm home!" Gabby began to pick herself up, all the time wondering when she forgot how to exit the floo. She was so good at it before... Momma would not be pleased.

"Welcome back my Little Angel. How were your classes today?" Her mother's voice could be heard through an open doorway to the Study.

"I did well again in English today, Mother." Gabby was very proud of her new best subject. She's gotten perfect scores before, but never in her language classes. "Absolon was a pest today, but Gigi kicked him in the shin when Madam Royal was not looking!"

"I am very happy that you have such good friends, Gabby, but you should know that violence isn't the answer." Apolline responded absently with her head still bent over the parchments delivered with today's mail. "You have a visitor."

Gabrielle quickly looked over to the Study's owl stand. Hedwig gave the newcomer a short bark hello and lifted up a letter laden leg. Gabby smiled brightly for the pretty bird and skipped over to take her mail.

"Good afternoon-" Gabby cut herself off and tried again in English. "Good afternoon, Hedwig. Thank you again for spending your spare time with us but aren't you supposed to be Miss Granger's owl now?"

Hedwig gave a few chirps and barks which may have meant something to other owls. Gabby took the letter from her leg and lightly rubbed Hedwig's back for a moment. Once the novelty of petting Hedwig wore off, she ran over to her father's empty seat and opened her letter.

"It's from Hermione, Momma. She say's 'hi' to everyone and wants to hear about my classes."

"That's right. The dear was quite surprised to find out just how differently we handle education on this side of the Channel. Such a bright girl, I hate to see her potential wasted in a country that will never accept her for what she is." Apolline finished the letter she was working on with a flared signature and a wax family seal.

"Why?"

"The British, Angel. Their witches and wizards are so backwards compared to us or even to their own non-magical neighbors. Hermione's parents are non-magical and many of her peers will hate her for that." She hated taking away her daughter's innocence like this, but the girl had to learn sooner or later. In no time at all, Gabrielle will start growing just as her sister did before her. She will soon learn what it means to lose friends because Veela are different.

At least this time Fleur could help. Perhaps Hermione could too. Apolline made a note to send a book on Veela history and customs to the muggleborn Gryffindor. If she could learn the book's more important lessons then Alain would surely hire her after graduation. Unlike many in the French Ministry of Magic, Apolline's husband was not 'above' hiring English graduates if they showed potential.

"Deeaarrr, Her – mi – o – ne." Gabby began her own letter in reply. "I am wellllllll. Ab – so – lon was mean to me, but my ver – y best – est friend Gi – gi kicked him. I like her she is a good friend."

Gabrielle continued to say aloud what she was writing. Even with her new found skill with the English language, spelling it all correctly and maintaining her penmanship was hard for the eight year old. Gabby went on to write of learning about the famously scandalous witch, Joan of Arc. Gabby ignored her boring math lessons in favor of writing about a lesson where they made a simple and yummy calming draught. Madam Royal was going to keep that one for the next time her class got unruly.

"Peeee Essssss. Why does En-glish food suck so bad?"

"Gabrielle! That is crude and disrespectful!"

"Sorry, Momma." Properly cowed, she ducked her head and added one more line. "Peee Esssss Esssss. I am sor – ry for be – ing cruuuude and dis – re – spect – ful. Fleur said it first. Moth – er should scold Fleur first."

-o\O/o-

Draco Malfoy quietly scanned the Great Hall as students continued to eat and talk and otherwise go about their business.

Today, no snakes were talking to Daphne Greengrass. Socially isolated in her own house, the blonde resorted to trading a few bits of gossip with her associates in Ravenclaw. Draco knew that this cold shoulder treatment couldn't last forever, not for a girl as well connected as Greengrass. Still, he could use it to his advantage if he moved quick enough. She was a remarkably attractive witch from a good pureblood house and Draco would be more than happy to help her return to social dominance for the right price.

Across the Hall near the far wall, he spied the three Champions discussing something or other with Granger. They've been doing that a lot recently. Draco had to hand it to the Veela; trading a rather common broom for Potter's Firebolt was a masterstroke.

But enough of that, it was time to continue his father's plan. Draco braced himself, pulled in all of his Slytherin cunning and became the Perfect Bastard everyone now 'knew' him to be.

Crabbe and Goyle followed Draco around the Hall to the mudblood and her Champion friends.

"Cedric, Cedric, Cedric. Really, I can understand why you spend time with the Veela. Who wouldn't? But Granger?"

The first time Draco heard his father's plan, he was horrified. Father actually wanted him to hurl the absolute worst insults he could think of with a Gryffindor-ish disregard for self-preservation. This apparently must be done in public and with some frequency.

"And vat, may I ask, is problem vith Hermione?" He got the Durmstrang Champion mad. Merlin's balls, this was going to hurt.

This was one of many problems Draco had with his father's plan. Draco had to be the most vocal supporter of the dark and of the Dark Lord's social platform. Being so obvious about it would ensure he become a Death Eater youth leader when the Dark Lord returns, as his father assured him would happen soon, and further entrench the Malfoy family as one of the most powerful pureblood lines in English history. Why did Draco think this was a problem? Because Draco had to provoke fights now in order to rule Magical England years later.

"She's worthless. Filth. The Potter gold's been in her control long enough that it must be tainted." Draco estimated that he would be conscious for another eight to twelve seconds.

The worst part, Draco knew, was that his father's plan was absolute shit. Dark Lord's don't let their underlings rule, they do it themselves. The Malfoy heir was shocked one night to hear his drunken father honestly describe how often the Dark Lord tortured his own servants. The good ones, mind you, not the cannon fodder. Draco was certain that his father had more influence in the Ministry today than he ever would when the Dark Lord returned.

'A Malfoy bows to no man.' As often as Lord Malfoy said this in his own home, he was showing himself unable to stand by the maxim.

"Go away! You are not worz 'er time. Begone and take vos voyous wiz you." Fleur was flustered enough not to worry about extra French words here and there.

"Come on Cedric. You're a Champion for Merlin's sake. Put these bitches in their place. The court flower would make a decent mistress and the mudblood, well... I know someone who claims to run a whorehouse just off of Knockturn Alley. Granger may still be worth a few sickles a night due to her age."

Draco would wake up in the Hospital Wing the next morning and write to his father that the plan was being followed. He would then spend the rest of his recovery brainstorming safe ways to derail his father's plan.

Following it hurt like you would not believe.

-o\O/o-

"Ahh, Miss Granger. Please sit down." Albus waited for Hermione to take a seat before seating himself in his chair in the Headmaster's Office. "Care for a lemon drop?"

"No thank you, Sir." She took a breath before diving into her reason for requesting a meeting.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Headmaster. I know you're a busy man."

"Think nothing of it, Dear. As Headmaster of this school, my primary duty is to see that the needs of the students are being met. That means, Miss Granger, that I am here for you whenever you need me." Albus took a lemon drop for himself. "So, Miss Granger, what is it that I can do for you today?"

"Well, I received this letter from the Minister for Magic's office." Hermione slid the letter over the Headmaster's desk. "It claims that I will be required to give Minister Fudge Harry's wand. Is there some way around it, Sir? I know it sounds childish, but I don't want them to have it, not after the way Harry's been treated in the past."

For Albus, the issue was far more serious than Hermione made it out to be. Harry's wand was more than just Harry's wand to those who knew what it meant to carry the brother wand of a Dark Lord. Albus knew that the wand would be a powerful weapon against Tom Riddle whenever the Dark Lord chose to show himself again.

Albus read the parchment twice to properly absorb the message and have time to think of what to tell Miss Granger.

"You were right to bring this to my attention, Dear." He cleared his throat. "Yes, well. The Minister has no such power. Technically, no one does. Unfortunately for you, he has the political pull to take Harry's wand anyway. He could pressure you in any number of ways to get the wand. In fact, the Senior Under-Secretary can do a lot in his name without his knowledge... all of it bad for you."

Albus watched Hermione's face go white at the thought of being targeted by the Ministry. As much as he wanted to protect her, there would be little he could do in the long run. Albus mentally asked forgiveness from Harry and offered Hermione a way out.

"There is an option available to you, Miss Granger. I trust you have not responded to the letter yet?" She shook her head.

"Well, then. Might I suggest that you make a donation to Hogwarts? You could give Harry's wand to the school." Hermione looked up sharply at the statement. Clearly she did not think this option was any better.

"At least you would still be able to see the wand on display, Dear." She wanted to argue back, but Hermione didn't trust her voice not to crack.

"By entrusting Harry's wand to the school, the Minister would be unable to seize it. I could, as a representative of the school, repel any moves the Minister's office makes to punish you for giving me the wand."

Hermione heard the sugar coated blackmail for what it was. 'Give me the wand and I won't let them hurt you.' Wasn't protecting the students the job of the Headmaster? Didn't he just say that?

"I... umn... I'd like some time to consider the offer, Headmaster." Hermione desperately needed to get out. She needed to go outside, to get as far away from powerful old men as she could get.

Half an hour later, Hermione found herself lying face up next to a smooth black stone memorial on the far bank of Black Lake. Hermione's feet were propped up on the rear bristles of Fleur's broom, her hands both held a wand on a chain as close to her heart as she could get it.

"Harry, please help me. I don't know what to do." Harry didn't respond. All Hermione got for her trouble was a soft breeze from the lake and the distant barking of an owl.

An owl... hm. With nothing better to do, Hermione pulled out the letter she received during breakfast that morning. At the time, Draco was being too much of a bastard for Hermione to want to see what little Gabrielle wrote this time.

She cracked open the Delacour seal and looked over the tidy rows of text that were admittedly better than Hermione thought the eight year old girl would be capable of. It was only after giggling a second time when she re-read the Post Scripts that an idea came to her.

-o\O/o-

"Momma! Poppa! Hegwig came back again!" Gabrielle jumped up from her chair and ran over to the majestic white owl, completely disregarding proper dinner etiquette along the way.

Hedwig brought a letter and a small parcel with her this time and leaned in for an affectionate head bump with the excitable Veela girl as she slid to a stop in front of the owl stand.

"Gabrielle! Manners!" Alain pretended to be angry with her, but it was difficult to be stern with such an excitable little girl. He liked seeing her smile like that.

"Sorry, Poppa. May I be excused to relieve Hedwig of her burden?" She used her very best pout. Though Gabrielle may be too young to use the natural Veela gifts that develop in puberty, she is still shockingly cute and an expert pouter.

"Very well, Little Angel. Please tell us who Hedwig has come for." Alain and Apolline shared a look. Hedwig almost always delivered mail to Gabrielle from Miss Granger. The elder Delacours were beginning to wonder if the beautiful bird had chosen to bond with one of the two girls after Mister Potter's death.

"It is for me, Poppa. And she has a present this time!" Gabrielle returned to her seat at a respectable speed and began to open the letter. Her father almost told Gabrielle to wait until dinner was done, but a soft hand came down on top of his. Apolline didn't want to see her Little Angel's smile disappear again.

"Oooooo! Hermione says that the English Minister is being mean to her and wants to take something of Harry's. She doesn't want the mean old Minister to get Harry's stuff, so she's giving it to me!" Gabrielle looked over to her mother and father. "Can I have the Harry stuff, Poppa? Will the Minister try to steal it from me too?"

The two adults shared a brief look before looking back to Gabrielle. "Let's have a look at it. Harry's Will left everything he had to Hermione, so if it was really his to begin with, then she's allowed to give it to you. Show me the box, Little Angel."

As Gabrielle dutifully handed over the box, Hedwig let out a bark of disapproval. She knew who the parcel belonged to. Alian drew his wand and cast a series of charms and spells into the parcel. He wasn't as concerned with the wrapping paper itself; the manor wards would have stopped the box were the outer wrapping enchanted in a dangerous way. Still, as much as he wanted to trust Hedwig and Hermione, he knew that there were people both in England and France who would not think twice of attacking him through his youngest daughter.

Alain, satisfied that the parcel was not some kind of trap, he handed it back to his daughter who tore it open with glee.

Both Alain and Apolline were surprised when the little girl gazed almost reverently at some object they had yet to see. She began to pull a thin gold chain out of the box. 'Did Harry wear jewelry?' The thought died quickly as all six eyes in the room locked onto the thin polished shaft of a Holly and Phoenix feather wand.

Without conscious thought, Gabrielle grabbed the wand by its base and gave it a gentle swish.

Before either of her parents could scold the child for holding a wand without permission, a bright golden glow left the wand and began to swirl around Gabrielle. A cloud of gold and silver sparks, with a few red ones for variety, shot out of the tip of the wand and bathed the family dinner with beautiful light and the tinkling of tiny bells.

Clearly Gabrielle would not find a more suitable wand for her future lessons, no matter how hard she may look.

"I think, Gabrielle, that we will be keeping this gift. Be sure to thank Hermione properly for sending you something that she must treasure dearly." Apolline would also be sending a letter to Fleur. The Delacour family would be looking after Miss Granger from now on.

"Yes, Mother!" A moment later, Gabrielle turned and ran to the Study intent on writing her reply letter as soon as possible. Hedwig hopped off of the Dining Room's perch thirty seconds later to follow Gabrielle.

-o\O/o-

With only one week left until the Third Task, the thin veneer of normalcy that had managed to cover Hogwarts in the last month began to peel away.

Most of the staff and student's of the three schools maintained a respectful distance from their Champions as it was very clear that the three were fully devoted to their training and studies. Triwizard Champions or not, Victor and Fleur both had N.E.W.T.'s to take after the tournament.

There was one notable exception.

"Bonjour, Fleur. Here you go; one advanced transfiguration treatise as promised." Hermione held a book out to the Veela Champion.

"Merci. I swear, one day I will figure out ze 'ogwarts Library." Fleur took the thick tome from Hermione's outstretched hands and smiled.

Hermione didn't mind picking things out of the Library for Fleur or Victor. She and Cedric both knew the library well enough to offer their help to the other Champions. Hermione would have been searching the library extensively regardless as Senior Under-Secretary Umbridge was sending her owls almost daily now. Delores had stopped pretending to be polite early on and was now using threats which were not remotely legal in execution. Hermione was shocked that the woman would insult her heritage in one sentence and mention the Dementor's Kiss immediately after. Sadly, books and scrolls on Wizarding Law were completely unorganized. Sometimes they were completely unavailable.

"Will Gabrielle be coming back with your parents to watch the Third Task?" The bushy haired Gryffindor fell in step with Fleur and a handful of other Beauxbatons students who were making the morning trek from their carriage outside to the Great Hall.

"She will be! I can't wait for Little Angel to visit again! I still owe her a make-over, Fleur." The brunette next to Fleur shot out rapid fire.

"Show us mercy, Segolene. The last time you dressed up Gabby, my teeth began to rot from the sugary sweetness you created." Fleur thanked her ancestors for the thousandth time that the Veela Thrall cannot influence other females. Due to jealous witches and their rumors, her social circle consists only of the more progressive heterosexual witches along with some of the school's bi and lesbian population.

"Are you saying that the girl can become more cute than she already is?" Hermione smiled at Fleur. "I don't believe you." In the past few weeks, Hermione began to spend time with Fleur inside the Beauxbatons carriage where several Delacour family albums full of wizarding photos illustrated just how adorable Gabrielle could be. Fleur was especially firm in her belief that Gabrielle would make her older sister appear plain in comparison when the little flower finally did start to bloom.

"You shall see the results for yourself. My Mother has already given me permission to extend an invitation. Would you like to dine with the Delacour family?" Fleur's question caused Hermione to stop in the middle of the hall. "Segolene will be there. I am also inviting Cedric and Victor."

"Are you sure? I mean, I'd love to dine with your friends and family. It would be an honor." Hermione fought down a blush as she thanked God that she wasn't left completely alone in the magical world. Fleur, Victor and Cedric had all begun to treat her as a friend and equal even though she was not a Champion... or seventeen. If you add the quiet talks she's had with several other Beauxbatons students, she could almost make up with quantity of friends what Harry gave her in quality. Almost.

-o\O/o-

"Professor, we've got some information for you..." Gabrielle paused for a moment. "We think it'll help you."

The young girl turned in her sleep. She was dreaming again just as she had for several nights in a row now. This time, her mother was ready.

"Are you going somewhere?" Apolline watched as her Little Angel continued to do speak fluent English. The girl's professor had requested the name of Gabrielle's private English tutor, but what was Apolline supposed to say? Consult a spirit board?

A dicta-quill was steadily recording everything spoken by anyone in the room and had been doing so since Gabrielle's bedtime.

"You're the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!" Gabrielle turned to the other side of her bed. "You can't go now! Not with all the Dark stuff going on here!"

The Veela ran her fingers over her daughter's forehead and through Gabrielle's silver-blonde locks. As if being both witch and Veela were not enough, the girl was reliving someone else's life. Apolline began mentally reviewing what she would write to her mother's family in Marseille.

The dreaming Veela girl threw her right hand high into the air above her and shouted as loud as she could, "Expelliarmus!"

A blueish-white cloud of magic radiated out from the girl's open palm. Apart from scaring Apolline half to death, the magical wave washed over the bedroom furniture without any noticeable effect. Luckily, Gabrielle did not sleep with her new wand in hand. Apolline insisted on holding onto the wand whenever Gabrielle was alone. For now, it is a necklace only.

Apolline quickly pulled herself off of the floor and moved into bed beside her daughter. She may not understand what is happening to to her Little Angel, but she will do everything in her power to make sure Gabrielle is always healthy and happy.

"Shouldn't have let Professor Snape teach us that one." Gabrielle muttered.

While Apolline coiled protectively around her daughter, Gabrielle prepared to lead Professor Lockheart into the Chamber of Secrets.

Gabrielle would scare her mother several more times that night as the eight year old girl met Tom Riddle deep beneath the stone floors of Hogwarts Castle, far, far away from her mother's loving embrace.

-o\O/o-

"Mr. and Mrs. Delacour, thank you again for inviting me to dinner. I'm honored to be here." Hermione called out, unsure if she should bow, curtsey or something else. Fleur and Segolene, who both got big hugs and kisses, were no good as social references.

"Nonsense, Dear! Please come in." Apolline reached over and pulled Hermione into a hug just as warm as she gave her own daughter. Continental cheek kisses followed. "And please call me Aunt Apolline. 'Mrs. Delacour' makes me sound so old!"

The Delacours were renting out a modest two story house in Hogsmeade for the week so that they could visit with their older daughter both before and after the Third Task. As a French Ministry Official, Alain Delacour also had an international floo connection temporarily installed just in case a 'Second Task' level crisis required official communication or action.

Within this house, Apolline had directed the Delacour house elves to prepare a meal for themselves and their guests. The guest list tonight included Hermione, Cedric, Victor, Segolene and Madam Maxime.

Both Headmasters were at first hesitant to allow their students to go unescorted. Fleur overcame this by publicly swearing a magical oath to forfeit the Third Task if either male champion were harmed attending her family's dinner.

"You may call me what you wish, Miss Granger. I will answer to 'Father' or 'Uncle' as easily as Monsieur or Alain." The man of the house bowed down to kiss Hermione's knuckles. As he did this, Apolline explained to the male Champions that they would not have to speak French tonight like Hermione did. The nervousness left their smiles.

"Your name is 'Poppa'! Isn't that right, Poppa?" Gabrielle shot into the room like a silk and lace missile in pastels with silvery-blonde hair. A familiar wand was clearly visible hanging from Gabrielle's neck.

"Yes, Poppa! Come give your third daughter a hug!" Segolene practically hopped into the man's lap. Cedric and Victor may not have known what to make of the playful brunette, but Hermione had learned all about the girl and her long-standing friendship with the Delacour family.

Dinner went well enough. The Delacours were impressed by the caliber of students that became Champions. When Hermione tried to humble herself during a discussion about the three Champions choosing to train together, Victor would have none of it.

"Do not say such thinks, Hermione. You are smart girl. You are brave girl. You are pretty girl. I think Harry do vorld great favor ven he save you from troll." As Hermione dropped her head and blushed, Apolline considered the troll reference.

Apolline had heard Gabrielle dreaming about a troll once or twice. It would have been a pity that Gabrielle never seems to remember her dreams in the morning if not for the fact that a lot of those dreams seemed to be dark and nightmare-like. If she ever found this 'Uncle Vernon' man, she was going to go full Veela and ram a fireball up his ass.

"Hermione, Dear. The more I hear about Harry, the more I want to know about him. I don't trust the papers and my daughters can only tell me so much. Is there something you can tell me, to help me learn what kind of boy saved my daughter's life?"

Hermione knew that telling stories about Harry would hurt, but she also knew from the eight books on grief management she had read recently that she needed to tell someone. Her dorm mates were out of the question and Wizarding Britain seemed to know nothing about mental health treatments or counseling. She could do this.

"Well... the first time that Harry really showed that he had a 'saving people' thing, we were still First Years and... well... this troll had been let into the castle on Halloween night..."

No one interrupted her. Friend and family alike listened to a tale that hadn't been spoken aloud ever. Ron's version didn't count as he embellished the hell out of it. Cedric may have heard indirectly about the Philosopher's Stone and the troll, but he never heard about Norbert the baby dragon... or about the 'expert' traps that three Ickle Firsties navigated to give the Boy-Who-Lived an audience with Quirinus Quirrell. Don't forget Voldemort.

By the end of her tale of three First Year students against the world, everyone else in the room agreed with Victor's assessment. Harry did the world a favor when he saved this girl from a troll.

But it was getting late and Apolline refused to hear Hermione's apology for holding up dinner.

Hermione, Cedric and Victor learned more about Veela that night than had ever been taught at either Hogwarts or Drumstrang in the many centuries that both schools were open.

For instance, there is no such thing as 'half' or 'quarter' Veela. You either are Veela or you are not regardless of what the ignorant Wizengamot has to say on the subject. Veela are not native to the British Isles and with the British Ministry of Magic's attitude, they never would be.

The difference between most cheerleading and exotic dancing Veela and the Delacour women was based on the natural talents and abilities of said Veela's father. A Veela born to a non-magical father would have all of the natural Veela traits but would share her father's inability to use magical focii such as wands and brooms. They could at least see the magical world, much like squibs could. Tonight's hostesses were at the other end of the Veela spectrum.

Apolline was the daughter of a wizard who also married a wizard. Her daughters would not only have full Veela abilities at their maturity but would also have rather impressive magical talent on par with any pureblood or non-magical born witch anywhere on the continent. Is it any wonder Fleur became the Beauxbatons Champion?

It was all Alain and Apolline could do to ignore which teenaged wizard champion was trying hard to not look at which teenaged witch over dinner and dessert. Alain was restraining himself from his usual duties as Husband and Father for one good reason; Two different teenaged boys were showing at least some resistance to Veela charms. That was too much potential just to kill one or both of them now.

"So... are you 'appy you accepted my muzer's and fazer's invitation to dine wiz us tonight?"

"Very much so! Thank you for letting me get to know your family, Fleur. I am so sorry for how the other girls in Hogwarts treat you. Why, if I were into girls, I'd want you for myself." Hermione gave the Veela a little wink before breaking out into giggles. Segolene's wink over Hermione's shoulder was somewhat less innocent, but her laughter was just as light and bubbly.

"Gabrielle! Where are you? It is bedtime for my Little Angel." Apolline's call caused a table near the girls to shake. A second later, all three girls listened as a younger girl scampered quickly away. Whether Gabrielle was running to or away from her mother, the older two girls had not a clue.

"I zink you have a big fan, 'ermione. If you can wait just eight or ten years, zen you can 'ave ze newer model of Miss Delacour. She is guaranteed to 'ave less wear and fewer wrinkles zen I will 'ave."

"I don't believe the 'less wear and fewer wrinkles' bit. I saw your mother tonight. By non-magical standards, she doesn't look old enough to be Gabby's mother, let alone yours."

"And what to you zink of Gabby? She was so proud having 'arry's wand out in the open. Our parents keep tight control over zat necklace you sent 'er." Fleur was proud of her little sister and hoped that her new friends would like the short ball of cuteness just as much.

"I love her to death! I've seen fan-girls around Harry before, even if he was clueless about them. Given a choice between someone like Ginevra Weasely or Romilda Vane and Gabreille Delacour, then I'll chose little Gabby every time." Hermione thought that the girl just glowed of happiness and love when Hermione was around her. Once she had to resist the urge to scan the room for Harry. She could swear it felt like he was watching her tonight.

"Oh! Did they tell you? About the wand, I mean?" Segolene wanted to see Hermione's reaction to the wand story.

"No. What about the wand?" Hermione was concerned. Had Gabby hurt herself? Was sending her the wand a bad idea?

"Ze wand... of course. Did you zink zat 'arry's wand would not react to Gabrielle when she picks it up out of ze box and gives it a swish or two?" Fleur tried to stay neutral in her question.

Hermione, as expected, assumed the worst. "Oh, sweet Merlin! Oh, I'm sorry – I should have sent it to your Mum instead!" Her imagination was taking up so much mental power that Hermione was reduced to speaking in English again. All of the things that could have gone wrong...

"Not to worry, 'ermione. Muzer wrote to me zat ze wand reacted most beautifully to Gabrielle. Zere were more sparks and glowing mist and tinkly bell sounds zen she 'ad ever 'eard of for any first time reaction before." Fleur remembered the first time she picked up her own wand. There was a soft glowing cloud and tinkling bells, but no sparks that she could remember.

"Sparks, glowing mist and tinkling bells? I only got sparks from my wand and I know for a fact that that's all that Harry got as well. He said as much." Tinkling bells?

"But really, ze wand is just ze tip of ze iceberg wiz Gabby. Ze mark, you saw it, no?"

Hermione had to keep from flinching. The mark was the first thing she saw. It was also where her eyes seemed to drift when she caught herself looking for Harry.

It was the same mark that Hermione sees on Gabby during her Harry Dreams.

She had been ignoring that mark until she recently heard a rumor about 'Potter's Mark' floating through the Beauxbatons students. It had yet to reach the lips of Hogwarts' students or teachers as far as Hermione could tell. She prayed that the language divide would remain in place until after the girls in blue went home to France.

"Yes, I saw it. Is that really... really where..." She couldn't finish the sentence.

"Where 'e kissed Gabby with 'is last breath and ze last beat of 'is 'eart. She swears it to be true, and Gabby is not prone to exaggerating zings like zat." The mark has had Fleur's mind racing day and night since her family arrived in Hogsmeade. It does not seem dark, but is is clearly unnatural.

"Little Angel is confident that Harry saved her life, not Dumbledore or Madam Maxime. She says his kiss was a magic kiss. That is why it does not fade." Segolene leaned to whisper the last two lines.

"Okay! Enough with the sparks and the marks. We have much more important things to talk about now that we three are alone." Fleur looked over to Segolene who nodded back. Sticking to French would help add privacy for this conversation.

"And what would that be?" Hermione had no idea where this was going.

"Silly girl! We will gossip about boys! What else could be more important for teenaged girls who have already talked about Dark Wizards and Trolls over lobster bisque."

"B-boys?" Hermione still had no idea where this conversation was going.

"Did you not see a world famous Bulgarian seeker favor you over all others in a room that had two mature Veela in it? And they say you are a bright witch..." The brunette was rubbing it in a little much, but Hermione really needed a clue. In fact, she needed a clue years ago.

Hermione blushed heavily and looked down.

"We are not saying that you should put Harry behind you, Hermione. Far from it. Victor respects Harry enough that he waits in silence for you to make your heart available once more."

"Wha- what do you mean?" Hermione was sure they must be teasing her. Or tormenting her, one or the other.

"Segolene put a listening charm on Cedric as the boys were moving away to talk quidditch." When Hermione turned to look at the face under the curls, Segolene tried on her best innocent look. She failed miserably.

"I did! I would have been in Slytherin were I English!" She preened herself while pretending to be snooty and arrogant.

"No. You are more like those twins in Gryffindor. Fred and George. You delight in mischief, but do not do it to cause pain or to put yourself above others." Fleur watched her friend's faux pride become genuine under the honest praise. Third Delacour sister indeed.

"Enough of that. We were trying to talk about boys!" Segolene pulled herself together a bit before continuing. "Cedric, or 'Ced' as Victor has begun calling him, was asking for advice on asking Veela out romantically. Victor, 'Vic' for short, said that his Veela fans were not 'classy chick' like Fleur here and his way would not work."

"You mean to say that Cedric is working up the courage to ask Fleur out?"

"I think that we really excited those two boys that first day you helped me with the Firebolt. Before that, both boys looked at me but rarely flirted. After that, Victor remembered why he asked you to the Yule Ball and Cedric started flirting with me more." This was all easy for Fleur to see. She was Veela.

"I... I hadn't noticed..." Hermione began to see it on on reflection. Why didn't she see it before?

"It's okay, you were and still are recovering. Victor is okay with that too." Segolene kept up with the conversation, but seemed to be distracted. Maybe it was an effect of using the listening charm.

"He is? What do you mean?"

"It's what the boys are talking about right now. Ced mentioned that you were still acting like a widow and Vic just responded that he intends the wait the traditional twelve months for a widow to grieve for her husband before courting you openly." Segolene began to spend more time following the boys conversation. "Okay, now they are getting all pervy comparing the girls that each of them has already been with. Ced is jealous of Vic's two Veela conquests but Vic is asking about a... Chinese?... Chang?"

"Cho Chang? He slept with Cho Chang?" Hermione listens to the gossip mongering of Lav-Lav and Pav-Pav, even if she doesn't add to it. They've never mentioned a rumor about those two doing more than kissing.

"Not all the way. Just oral. Ced seems quite proud that he could get a girl that looks Chinese to scream and beg in a Scottish Brogue."

All three girls laughed at the idea as Segolene waited for the boys to say something equally incriminating.

"Miss Delacour! Miss Royal! Miss Granger! We must be on our way, Dears." Madam Maxime had come at last to collect her charges.

On the return trip to Hogwarts castle, Headmistress Maxime stayed with the girls while the boys were usually ten or twenty paces ahead. The girls abandoned the listening charm they had on the boys for fear that Maxime may discover it. Instead of spying, Fleur and Segolene spent the walk back describing Beauxbatons to Hermione.

"...and to just once wake up knowing that I won't have to ask the first ghost I see where the Defense classroom is this week... I tell you, Hogwarts is looking worse and worse in comparison." Hermione was seeing more and more wrong with Hogwarts, and Magical England in general, as the weeks wore on.

"Maybe you would consider transferring?" Hermione was suddenly very thankful that Cedric was out of hearing range.

"You think I should? I mean... can you even do that? I know non-magical students do it all the time, but I've never heard of someone transferring out of Hogwarts. Not once in Hogwarts: A History is the term 'transfer' even used." Hermione suddenly became very nervous. She had never considered transferring before.

Olympe couldn't resist butting in. She had heard Albus bragging about his favorite Gryffindor witch too often to let an opportunity like this pass by.

"It is precisely because no wizard or witch has ever considered transferring out of Hogwarts that it would work dear. Make your intent known at the end of the year when the Board of Governors can't meet in time to write new rules banning you from getting out." Hermione looked up at the Half-Giantess.

"I'm muggleborn. The governors would be as likely to write new rules forcing all muggleborns to transfer to Beauxbatons if they could get away with it." Hermione was saddened at how close to the truth her comment was likely to be.

"And I would take them in! Well, I assume that they could handle any differences in course loads between the schools. The muggleborn of England are far more likely to be accepted than their pureblood counterparts."

"B- but, you would consider me if- if I asked to transfer?" Hermione fought down the quivering that began to take over her jaw. Battling Dark Lords was one thing, but this was revising her future educational history. She only considered it because Hogwarts was fast becoming a reminder of all things dark and painful to her.

"Miss Granger," Madam Maxime replied with warmth in her voice, "I will forgive you the sin of being English if you would do me the honor of submitting an application to transfer to my school. As I doubt the English Ministry of Magic has such documents as transfer papers, you may have to create them yourself. I doubt someone as bright and thorough as you would have any trouble with that."

"Yes Mam. I mean no, Mam, I wouldn't have any trouble. I'll- I'll have to think about it though. It's a really big decision... and... umn" Hermione was about to melt down, the very thought of leaving Hogwarts and everything that had happened there... but at the same time how could she possibly stay? Every square inch of the castle reminds her of Harry now.

"Don't worry about it, Hermione. After the Task tomorrow, you can celebrate with the Beauxbatons students and work it out." Fleur tried to settle Hermione's mind, but knew she had fallen short of the task.

"I have an idea to distract you. Want to hear it?" Segolene was wearing a very Weasley twin smirk. This might actually work. Hermione nodded.

"Imagine that you have a tattoo of a golden snitch right above your labia." Hermione's eyes went wide. "Now... when you go to sleep tonight, your dreams will be full of Harry and Victor on their brooms trying to beat each other to the snitch! That's a good one, yes?"

A very red Hermione stuttered out the story about Harry's first quidditch game and the snitch he caught in his mouth. Segolene and Fleur both roared in laughter.

-o\O/o-

"Hi, Harry!" Gabrielle appeared without warning in a rowboat in the middle of Black Lake. The sun was out, the clouds were soft and puffy looking and a gentle breeze kept her hair from getting in her face. How nice of her dream to do that with her hair!

She liked Harry Dreams. They were always so nice. If only he would let her remember one for more than five seconds after she woke up in the morning.

"Hey, Gabby. Sit, I'll show you what this lake is supposed to be like."

Harry seemed to look over the side of the boat for a moment as he noticed something that she couldn't see.

"Just give me a minute, Gabby. I've just got to put them in their place before we can get started."

Gabby sat on the passenger seat of Harry's rowboat as he pulled one oar out of it's ore lock and began to beat the surface of the lake repeatedly.

"That's right you bloody wankers! She's with me now!" Harry looked back up to his passenger. "Don't mind them, Gabby. They're here for some dark goings on, but I put a stop to that, didn't I?"

Gabby giggled. She would never realize that she would have had a nasty nightmare tonight about being pinned to a dead Harry Potter if this seemingly alive Harry hadn't caught her in a rowboat first.

Harry reset his oar and began a slow, easy circuit around the lake.

"Oh! You won't guess who I saw today, Harry!" Gabby's face lit up. She wanted to tell him all about the dinner with her big sister Fleur and Fleur's very very very close friend Segolene and Hermione.

"I give up... who?" He was smiling. Gabby knew he knew the answer, but he still played her games. Every day she loved him more for it.

Harry listened intently as the little Veela told him all about her big day back in England. She was a very big girl and only cried a little bit when she saw the lake shore through a tree line. Harry told her that he knew for sure that Hermione still cried when she went down to the lake some times.

"Harry?" Gabby looked like she was about to ask that question that she always asked.

"Yes, Gabby?"

"When are you going to go back outside? Can we do it tomorrow?" Harry liked it when she referred to being in the real world as 'going back outside'. Here in her dreams, Harry could do anything she believed he could do except 'go outside' when she woke up.

"Soon, Gabby. Soon. I don't know if tomorrow's the day, but this whole 'being dead' thing is kind of hard to figure out at first." He pulled in his ores and let the boat drift on an invisible current. "Thanks again for letting me hop into 'Mione's dreams too. I'm pretty sure I've stopped almost as many nightmares on her side as I've done in for you."

Gabby smiled. "She said you had a 'saving people' thing. You sure do!"

After a rather heated tickle war, the two calmed down and held hands.

"Ready?" Silver-blonde locks bounced up and down as Gabby let Harry get ready for the hard part.

Harry took a few deep breaths, and with Gabby's hands in his own he willed their presences over to his other favorite Sleeping Beauty.

"Harry! Gabby! Come on up!" Gabby let go of Harry's hands and followed him up a cast iron spiral staircase to where Hermione seemed to be sorting through some old periodicals. Hermione usually didn't pay much attention to Gabby, but the eight year old didn't mind so much. Hermione's library was full of neat stuff. Maybe Hermione would teach Gabby how to not forget her Harry Dreams one of these days.

"Gabby! Don't go running away on me, we have a new topic to discuss tonight." Hermione had their attention now.

"Well, you see... I was thinking of transferring..."

End Chapter

Reviews or some of them anyway...

Negative reviews of the Prologue and Chapter One were quite rare;) Naturally, I will address almost all of those to keep my feedback balanced. To all you other reviewers, thanks and please keep reading.

Isis the Sphinx – Thank you for registering this story's first review, and a positive one at that! You and many others commented on this being new. Perfect. I did not want to travel down a well worn path and luckily that is very hard to do if you focus on Gabrielle.

deitarion/SSokolow – Thank you for consistently reviewing all of my stories. Hopefully I will continue to fire on all cylinders from beginning to end on this one.

Dark Dragen (and those who think like him that Dumbles is an ass) - Losing the Boy-Who-Lived will really take the wind from the old man's sails. Let's wait to see if he can redeem himself or if he continues to make mistakes.

Riegert8 and Sorvik – First, as to why I would change a good thing. If you truly believe that all seven original books were a good thing, then why are you reading fanfictions that clearly deviate from the True Path? You've already read the 'perfect' version of the story, right? Second, you can kill a character and still like them. It was actually very hard to write Harry's death and it was almost painful to write Hermione's reaction. Even more important to HP fanfictions is the fact that a character can die and still be vitally important. Voldemort was mostly dead from book one to four. Myrtle was very dead and she was an important character at least twice that I remember.

Vukk – Your deductive skills amaze me. Please infer sarcasm with that last remark. While I have an outline, the story evolves even as I write it. If you want to know the answer to your question, read along with everyone else.

Weasel Fu – Thank you for an in depth review. I hope to round out every character I use eventually without overdoing one of them. Next chapter will give everyone the chance to rate my Third Task action. Yay, bloodshed!

Starman800 – Hermione's 'Mrs. Potter' moniker is just a nickname. She's not legally a Potter even thought she inherited the Potter legacy. Gabrielle is no more Mrs. Potter than 'Mione or Ginny. If Harry married every little girl he saved, then the original books would have been a harem story. I am also not leaning on any Veela Bond type plot device though I do like reading Veela Bond stories. The Delacour ones, not the Malfoy ones.

Slytherin66 – So, you want to know if the horcrux in Harry is still active? I know the answer to that one but you won't learn the answer for quite some time... BWA-HA-HA-HA-HA-Hack-cough-cough .

cbsnes – You got me. The date was wrong. My bad.

d-scribe (He-Who-Left-No-Return-Address) – My most favoritest review to date! You are so full of shit that it's funny. Did you copy/paste this from your last review somewhere else? The only time you get remotely specific is when you reference my favorite authors list. There is no proof you read my story at all. And I would love to see Ozzallos try a Harry/Gabby story.

para125 (and others asking about pairings) – Harry/Gabby is the only solid pairing so far, but hopefully I have uncovered several possible love sub-plots for you this chapter. I am keeping Hermione's final relationship Top Secret for now, so you'll all have to suffer! Happy New Year!