A/N This was probably the hardest cut I made, because it drives the story, has a lot of info that is needed, and has some good character development between Fleur and her sister.

It was the opening of chapter nineteen.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

THE ENEMY ALSO PLANS

Fleur strolled through the gardens behind the house and pondered the previous evening. It was nice having Harry in her arms again, and even better having him home safe. But safety was an illusion. What if he was attacked again? What if she couldn't get to him fast enough next time? How long could he fight the Horcrux?

Last night scared her on so many levels. Some, she expected; some, she didn't. One of things she didn't expect was the way her Veela instincts reacted to the Horcrux. But now that she thought about it, she should have known it was a possibility since the Dark Arts agitate Veela magic. Still, it took everything she had to stay in that room and push her magic into him, rather than ending the mark right there and disappearing from his life.

Fleur huffed, frustrated that she never even considered that her magic might react to him, not that it mattered, though. Her mind was already made up about 'Arry, it just would have been nice to have been prepared for it.

Fleur took a deep breath and decided to push it all out of her mind for a while. Instead, she looked around at the vibrant purple, bright yellow, and dark red flowers that lined both sides of the path. Their scents wafted passed as the breeze picked up, and her mouth watered.

Damn Veela instincts.

She chuckled to herself, continued along the path, and eventually ended up at the stone fence on the western side of the property. A few feet away, Gabrielle was sitting lengthwise on a bench and staring out over the distant ocean.

Fleur decided that winding up her little sister was just the thing she needed to brighten her morning.

"Mind if I join you?"

Gabrielle pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around them.

Fleur sat down. "So, I heard you tell 'Arry that you loved him last night."

"Yeah, and?"

"And I'm wondering how my competition is doing this morning."

Gabrielle rolled her eyes. "That's not how I meant it."

"Not at all?"

"Of course not!"

"What if I don't believe you? You still have your 'Arry wall"

"Stick your beak somewhere else! I just keep it up there to annoy him."

"You expect me to believe that?" Fleur asked.

"Yes!"

"So what was with eyes full of lust just after you hugged him last night?"

A pink hue crept into Gabrielle's cheeks and she looked away. "A better question is why did you even come over here?"

"I already told you. I wanted to know how my competition was doing!"

"Stop calling me that! I'm not your competition."

Fleur couldn't help but smirk. "Come on, maybe just a little?"

Gabrielle glared at her.

Fleur bit her lip before the smirk turned into outright laughter and held up a thumb and forefinger about an inch apart, then raised an eyebrow.

Gabrielle smacked the bench. "No, I said!"

She decided to change tactics. "What changed? Seeing 'Arry set you off last spring, and if the lead-up to your transformation was anything like normal, I also have a pretty good idea what you were often doing while you were thinking about him."

The pink hue turned red. "Are you having fun yet?"

"Almost as much fun as you had the day 'Arry and I left for Durmstrang." Fleur crossed her arms. "Now answer the question."

"I knew I'd pay for that," Gabrielle said. "Alright, you win. Yes, I still think he's cute, he's also more than most witches could hope for, and last Christmas, I realized that he had a body I'd love to see naked and sweaty six inches above me while I was on my back making animal noises; but he was meant to be my big brother, not my shag toy, and I like it that way. Satisfied now?"

Fleur shook her head. "Animal noises and a shag toy? Do I even want to know who you learned that from?"

It was Gabrielle's turn to smirk. "Danielle, of course. So, are we even now, or do I have to endure another round of this before I go back to school?"

Fleur decided to let Gabrielle off the hook, but before she could say so, she noticed the final touches of her transformation. Gabrielle didn't look much different from Christmas, or even last summer, just enough to be noticeable: cheekbones a hint more prominent, jaw line a hair sharper, and she'd grown another half an inch or so. Add in that she had legs for which most Veela, let alone witches, would kill, and there was no doubt about it, Gabrielle was stunning. And that didn't come close to describing the human spirit inside the little sprite.

But there was a sadness about her as well. Fleur felt a tinge of it at Beauxbatons, but not this much. She was just about to ask about it when she sensed something else, something deeper, something that was almost . . . dangerous. How odd, she thought, that it seemed familiar. But why would that be?

"Fleur?" Gabrielle interrupted.

Fleur shook away the thought. "I guess we're even, for now. Tell me though; is there anyone you are interested in?"

"Naa," Gabrielle answered. "The wizards at school are just boys, and the few that aren't"—she shrugged—"When Papa and 'Arry are my standard, good luck finding anyone that can measure up."

"Just don't lower your standards. You're going to have a hard enough time getting them by 'Arry as it is."

That evoked a big smile from Gabrielle, but it faded fast. "If he's still alive."

"If," Fleur swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. "So, you know?"

"I heard Maman and Papa talking this morning." Gabrielle hesitated before continuing. "There was something I didn't understand. After the battle last night, Maman made it sound like something else attacked him, but she never mentioned what it was."

Fleur kicked at the paving stones beneath the bench and thought about the best way to answer. "Um, I guess you can say that Voldemort's Killing Curse still affects him sometimes."

"What? How does that happen?"

"You don't want to know. Just keep being 'Arry's trouble-causing, adorable, little sister. Make him laugh as much as possible, and don't worry about the other stuff."

"You know that's not fair, right?"

"Fair?" Fleur answered. "This isn't about you and I don't care how 'fair' you think that is."

Gabrielle's nostrils flared, but she managed to keep her anger under control. "I know it's not about me, what I meant is that it's not fair to him . . . or you."

"Me?" Fleur asked.

Gabrielle nodded. "Why should I get to be the playful imp while you and he both suffer?"

She blinked, at a loss for words.

"Don't look so surprised," Gabrielle continued. "When you showed up at Beauxbatons, I knew something was wrong, but I couldn't figure out what it was. Since you didn't say anything, I figured you didn't want to talk about it."

A few seconds of silence ensued while Fleur tried to come to grips with a grown-up Gabrielle. "It'll only upset you, why do you want to know so badly?"

Gabrielle rested her arms on top of her knees and leaned her chin on them. "Because I'm an adult now, with an adult ability to reason and that means I might be able to help; because I'm already upset about what might happen and telling me isn't going to change that; and because two can share a burden better than one, and who better to share it with than your own blood and feathers? Look, I know I act like a pixie once in a while, but—"

"Once in a while?" Fleur interrupted.

"Fine, sometimes, but it doesn't mean I'm an empty-headed—"

"Most of the time," Fleur interrupted again. "And you're the furthest thing from being an empty-headed anything, but that has nothing to do with why I don't want to tell you. There are things you've yet to experience, realities in life that are dark and brutal, and some of those things I hope you'll never even have to know about, let alone encounter."

Gabrielle stared out over the ocean. "And, the things you've gone through . . ."

"Yeah, to a small degree, but not even close to what 'Arry and others have had to deal with."

Gabrielle thought about that and absent-mindedly played with her hair until it ended in a loose bun. "Then, teach me what you've learned, I know it won't be the same, but at least it's a start, and wouldn't it be better to learn from you now, than on my own later?"

Fleur shook her head. "I don't know. It involves very dark magic and things about 'Arry that are not nice. You wouldn't be able to talk to anyone else about it. Are you sure you're okay with that?"

"You're my sister, of course I'm sure," Gabrielle said. "I may not be able to help much, but at least you'd have someone to talk to, or someone to break things with when you're all a-feather."

A hint of a smile broke out. "You really did grow up, didn't you?"

"Yep, and you're stalling."

Fleur snickered. "And yet, still the petulant imp."

Gabrielle grinned. "Sure am. Now talk."

Over the next hour, Fleur poured her heart out: the battle the previous spring; what she learned about Harry's home life; what she did and what she went through at the Burrow and again last fall; her thoughts on the voice that was found in the memory reconstruction; all of her research on Horcruxes; and even her fear that she'd either lose 'Arry to the Dark Arts, or that he'd kill himself to destroy the Horcrux within.

Gabrielle listened to every word and held Fleur's hand through the rougher spots, though she couldn't resist teasing Fleur about the kiss in the bedroom at the Burrow. "Where does this all leave 'Arry?" she asked a while later.

"Waiting on me to find a way to destroy the 'Orcrux," Fleur answered. "And training to fight Voldemort, I guess."

"I still don't like that part."

"Neither do I, but there's nothing I can do except be there for him."

They sat in the silence that followed; each lost in her own thoughts, until Fleur pushed her hands toward the sky and stretched.

"I bet 'Arry loves seeing you do that."

"Do I need to have a talk with Danielle?" Fleur asked.

"Please do, I swear some of the stuff I've seen. . ."

"I can guess, I roomed with Paige. Is there anything else you wanted to ask about?"

Gabrielle hesitated. "Yeah, um, can I ask you a question about 'Arry?"

"Him again? And you're blushing?" Fleur held up her thumb and forefinger, almost touching this time. "Are you sure? Maybe just a tiny bit?"

"NO!"

Fleur laughed. "Okay, so what was your question?"

Gabrielle started fidgeting with something with the buttons on her shirt and the blush deepened. "I was wondering why . . . last night, I mean, why was 'Arry was so, um . . . excited when he came home if he was hurting so bad? He smelled like he'd just bathed in pheromones and when I hugged him, I . . . uh, learned a whole lot more about him than I wished to know."

"Did you enjoy your 'Arry lesson?"

"Never mind! I knew it was a bad idea to ask." Gabrielle pushed herself off the bench, but Fleur grabbed her and stopped her from stomping off.

"I promise, no more teasing," she said. "And as for 'Arry, his Veela-chicks just finished pushing a bunch of images into his head last night."

Gabrielle spun around to face her. "They didn't!"

"Yeah, they did, and I thought it was quite brave of them, too."

"I'd say! I've seen you hexed off."

Fleur chuckled. "What I meant was, they were helping 'Arry fight off the 'Orcrux's attack."

"Even so, a full Veela can still break the mark," Gabrielle said. "Not that I'd ever expect Azzurra to do it, but it'd still be enough to send me full-feather."

"You forgot that she can't do that anymore."

"What do you mean?"

That caught Fleur by surprise. "Didn't Grandma explain marking to you?"

"We were supposed to get together the day after 'Arry's Quidditch match, but since I stayed at Durmstrang with you when he hurt himself, we never got together. After that, we were too busy over the holidays, and then I left for school."

"Huh." Fleur thought about it for a second. "I'll let her fill you in on everything else. But, you already know that when you mark a wizard, you're telling other Veela that they're to stay away from him, right?

"Yeah, but what does it have to do with Azzurra?"

"Well, the mark is also a Veela's commitment to be faithful. If we're not—and that includes pushing images into someone else—our magic attacks us."

"What?" Gabrielle's eyes widened.

"That's what I meant by being brave."

"But they didn't cheat on their boyfriends! You said that Markus was even supporting Azzurra."

"That's true," Fleur answered. "And that's why it won't be as bad as it could have been, but they're still going to suffer. It's something that was added to our magic millennia ago. Veela were creating harems to strengthen their flocks. When the supply of men ran out in an area, the flocks raided each other. To put an end to it, a Veela would mark every man in her harem. That worked until the stronger Veela learned how to break it.

"By the way, do you know how they do that?"

Gabrielle shook her head.

"A Veela hits a man with her magic, driving him out of his mind with desire, then she makes sure he is very well satiated."

"I'd kill her!" Gabrielle said.

Fleur dipped her head. "Exactly. The stronger Veela in the raiding flocks would break the mark and either put their own on them, or pass them off to another Veela in her flock. Then, the Veela that just lost her mate, and sometimes, that entire flock, would counterattack and kill the Veela that broke the mark, not to mention taking dozens more men on top of the one they were after. The ensuing battles were supposed to have lit up the skies at night. Paige has a book on it if you're interested. I read some of it last year."

"Yeah, I think I am," Gabrielle said. "But how did we get from that to our own magic attacking us?"

"Some of the stronger Flock Leaders got tired of the fighting. They came together, formed the Zekānōt, and then figured out how to change that part of our magic so we can only mark one man at a time, and have to either remain faithful to him or remove the mark before we moved on."

"Wow."

"That's about what I said."

Gabrielle tucked a strand of hair that had fallen loose back into the bun. "Will Azzurra and the others be okay?"

"It'll take about a week or so, but they should be. I'm sure they're in quite a bit of pain right now, however."

"How much?"

"Well, when you went through your transformation that was your magic being as gentle with you as possible. Imagine going through that again, but with your magic purposely striking out at you in some kind of sadistic punishment."

"Oh, snap!"

"Snap?" Fleur repeated.

"Sorry, picked it up from school. A couple of witches spent the summer in Muggle America. They got it from some stupid song.* Anyway, I still don't get why 'Arry's Veela-chicks are being attacked by their own magic. They were helping him, rather than seducing him, and you said that it would make a difference."

"It does, and since they showed me deference as soon as I arrived, that'll help as well."

Gabrielle scrunched her eyebrows together. "Then how do you know they're suffering at all?"

"When I got there, that thing in 'Arry's head was so strong that even after I pushed with everything I had, he was still in pain, so I reached out to them and invited them back around him. I could feel it starting already."

"All four of you were pushing images?"

Fleur nodded. "Yep, that's why he was so worked up. He took a very long shower before he came to bed last night, too."

"What does . . ." Gabrielle's eyes widened and a grin creased her lips. "Did you give him a hand?"

"Gabrielle!"

The younger Veela squealed with mirth. "What? Don't act so innocent, Mademoiselle I-sleep-with-my-boyfriend-every-chance-I-get."

"But that's all we do, sleep!" Fleur said.

The grin fell from Gabrielle's face. "Really?"

"Yes! Who do you think I am, Paige?"

"I guess not, I just figured that since he's accepted the mark, and knowing how much we thrive on physical touch, it'd be a given."

"It's not like I haven't thought about it," Fleur answered. "But it just hasn't seemed right."

"And you're okay with that?"

"With everything else going on, I think so. But that doesn't mean I'm not tempted every minute of the day to rip his clothes off and ride him into the night . . . and through the next day as well."

Gabrielle stared at her sister, blinked, and then almost fell off the bench in laughter. Fleur joined her until Froissé appeared with a little pop. "Monsignor 'Arry be awake now."

"Thank you," Fleur said. "Did Papa fix the faucet for you?"

Froissé's ears stood straight up. "It being the bestest faucet. Froissé can even spray bad elves when they not be working to Froissé's kitchen standards!"

Fleur promised herself that she'd find a way to see that someday. "I'm glad, but don't be too hard on the others, okay?"

"They almost be trained, so not many showers anymore. Froissé need check lunch now."

Fleur watched the elf pop away, then held out her hand to Gabrielle. "Coming back to the house?"

"Might as well. Oh, and you'll let me know when you plan to saddle 'Arry up, right? I'll get the cousins together and take bets on who'll have the first—"

Fleur's Jelly-Legs Jinx bounced off the wall behind the space on the bench that Gabrielle had just vacated. The younger Veela was already up and sprinting back to the house, giggling like mad.

"Thank you," Gabrielle said once Fleur stepped through the sliding door into the smaller sitting room.

Fleur snorted. "For what, missing?"

"No, for being honest with me, and for being my big sister again. I missed you last fall."

Fleur pulled the bun out of her sister's hair. "I made a lot of mistakes, including being 'a selfish bitch,' as someone put it so eloquently, and your hair looks better down."

Gabrielle frowned. "Sorry about calling you that."

"Don't be. You were right, not that I wanted to hear it." Fleur leaned against the side of the couch. "The night of the party, just how much did you win?"

"About a hundred and thirty galleons, I had to wait 'till Christmas to collect most of it."

Fleur's jaw dropped. "Looks like you're taking 'Arry and me out for dinner."

Gabrielle mumbled something and looked away.

"What was that?" Fleur asked.

"I can't, I've spent it already."

"All of it? What in the world did you spend that much money on?"

Gabrielle handed over her wand. "This."

Fleur took it and marveled at the quality. There wasn't a visible seam or tool mark on the finish of the reddish-brown wand, and that included the four inlaid strips of a light-colored wood that ran down the handle.

"What is it made of?"

"Ironwood with a Hazel inlay. Grandma gave me another Veela hair for the core when I told her what I was doing. It's twisted together with a Dragon heartstring."

Fleur laid it in her palm and found it superbly balanced. "A wood and core matched for sheer power, another for charms and healing. You know what happens to a wand when you use Hazel wood and Veela-hair together, right?"

"Yeah, the wand will die when I die. We made sure there was enough Hazel to make that happen. It'll never work right against me, and it can't be used for bad when I'm dead."

A warning lit off in the back of Fleur's mind. "Why would you be worried about that?"

"It's something anyone should be worried about, isn't it?" Gabrielle asked. "I thought it was worth the money, anyway."

"Yeah, but, why so much?"

She took the wand back and caressed it. "I found out that first wands are subsidized. The normal cost is around forty to sixty Galleons, but Monsieur Ollivander made this one from scratch. That costs a lot more."

"Ollivander? Isn't he the English wand-maker? I remember him from the tournament."

"That's him, and you weren't kidding about his prejudice against Veela hair, either. You should have heard him when Grandma's rejected most of the Dragon heartstrings."

Fleur kept staring at the wand, feeling as though it held a secret, or more likely, a key to something that she didn't yet realize she needed to know. "What was wrong with your wand? And while we're at it, what is Monsieur Ollivander doing in France?"

"I asked him the same thing. He would only say that the war was getting rough. As for my wand"—she shrugged—"I don't know. I needed something that was more in tune with my magic."

Fleur looked her sister straight in the eyes. "You're not telling me everything."

"Who? Me?" Gabrielle chirped. "Rictusempra!"

Fleur shot backwards through the air and down to the couch. She shrieked in laughter and lost her wand, which somehow ended up at Gabrielle's feet. Gabrielle picked it up and walked out, leaving Fleur to suffer through the powerful Tickling Charm.

~ . ~ . ~

"'Arry!"—gasp—guffaw—gasp—"'Elp me!"

"Fleur?"

"Please!" Gasp "'Elp!"

He found her writhing on the couch and countered the spell, then looked down at his girlfriend. Tears of laughter lined her cheeks and her chest heaved with each gasp. His eyes stopped there. "What in the name of Merlin happened to you?"

"My sister, what else?" she answered. "She showed me her wand, then hit me with a Tickling Jinx."

"Huh," He tried to look her in the eyes, but it was almost impossible. "Maybe I should have tried that last summer."

Fleur clutched her stomach. "Please, don't make me laugh!"

He chuckled and sat on the couch next to her, sliding her legs over his. "Thanks for coming to Durmstrang last night."

"You don't have to thank me."

"I do. You're right. I acted like a git and didn't think about how it'd affect you or anyone else."

"I'm up here," She pointed to her face. "And my breasts thank you for apologizing to them."

Sure enough, he blushed, which made her giggle.

"I thought you'd be more brassed-off."

"I was, but I also understand why you did it. Tell me something though, how did you survive? Not that I ever want you to do it again, but it was amazing." Fleur managed to get her breathing under control—

—Which helped Harry focus above her neck, rather than below. "I don't know. When the first Death Eater Apparated in, Markus and I looked at each other, and then everything I felt that time you and I fought them at Hogwarts took over. Add to that my new training, and the next thing I know, Markus is dropping a boulder on the last the Death Eaters."

"We must have watched that memory four times." Fleur said. "Did you know that was the first time Azzurra saw Markus's Patronus? She gushed like a little schoolgirl."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. "Please,don't say that."

"Say what?"

"You remember when I told you how I found out about the mark, and how Azzurra tried to um, distract me during the competition we had?"

"Yeah?"

"Last night when she pushed her magic into me, she . . . ah . . . started off by wearing . . . in my mind that is, both of them—"

"Oh . . . Ohhhh!" Fleur giggled. "Let me see what I can do about that."

Two hands grabbed his shirt and yanked. He fell on top of Fleur and she smashed her mouth against his lips.

He propped himself up on his knees and an elbow, and let his other hand roam under her blouse. The taut, warm skin held promises he only dreamt of, and the long, feral growl that escaped from her throat encourage him further, then he felt her hands against his chest.

She drew her nails back and forth, then up the sides of his ribs and back down across his stomach. Every pass moved lower, until her hands were gliding along the top of his boxers.

Harry struggled to keep any semblance of thought, but failed miserably when her fingertips slipped under the waistband and started moving south.

"Here's you wand back." a voice interrupted.

Harry ripped his hand out of Fleur's shirt, lost balance, and fell to the hardwood floor with a thump. He looked up to see Gabrielle staring down at them.

"Never mind, I guess you already found one."

X ~ X ~ X ~ X

Two days later, Harry relaxed on the small couch in the larger sitting room. Dinner was great, and he was stuffed . . .

A/N Parts of this made it into other chapters, or into this chapter. I cut it because it was just too long Chapter 19 was already almost 20,000 words, and this put it at over 24,000. I thought about breaking it into two chapters, but I had set in my brain that chapter 19 would be the end of part two.

I really like the introduction, however, and the development of Fleur and Gabrielle's relationship. That's why I introduced parts of this in the last chapter I published.