Insert standard legal disclaimer and boilerplate notes here.
The Little Veela that Could
Chapter Six: Follow Me
July 2nd, 1995
Draco Malfoy stepped out of the floo and into his ancestral home.
The boy blushed but dutifully held still as his mother began to banish soot and lint off of his travel cloak. A moment later Narcissa judged him clean enough for a hug.
"Mother! Please….." Draco tried not to whine as he knew she would do this.
"I just couldn't wait a moment longer." Narcissa kissed her son on the cheek before taking another step back and busying herself with his collar. "I am your mother and I love you. Just because we have to show the common witch and wizard how to behave in public doesn't mean I must be cold and formal when it's just the two of us."
"Of course, Mother."
Draco watched his mother tilt her head off to one side as if waiting for something.
"I love you too, Mother." Draco gave his mother a light hug and kissed her cheek as well. Good answer.
Now that formalities were finally being peeled away, Draco knew it was only a matter of time before his mother demanded a thorough report on both his efforts to impress professors and his efforts to woo the young ladies of Hogwarts. He knew that his mother's opinion of Pansy fell two years ago and never recovered. Young Ladies were supposed to maintain their chastity until their wedding night... or at the very least until the engagement is official. Draco wasn't complaining, though. He knew his mother would be overjoyed to learn that Daphne Greengrass was now indebted to him.
POP
A house elf wearing a Malfoy Family napkin as though it were a toga immediately bowed before them.
"Lady and Young Master! You is being requested in the Lord's study! Lord Malfoy is being hosting a visitor!"
As Draco watched, motherly love disappeared from Narcissa's face. In its place was the elegant figure of Lady Malfoy, a proper pureblood icon of elite social circles. Draco fumed even as he mirrored her actions in becoming the proper heir to the Malfoy name and fortune. If the visitor weren't sufficiently well connected, Draco would swear vengeance on them for forcing his mother to hide herself from him in their own home.
The young scion formally offered his arm to Lady Malfoy. They walked silently out of the manor's entry hall, up a grand sweeping stair and down one of the manor's richly decorated hallways. As Narcissa and her son neared their destination, they saw one of the elves furiously cleaning a spot on the hall carpet and mumbling to itself.
"…-mumble- visitors not being knowing –mumble-… …blood on the carpet, Malfoy carpets! The shame!"
The little magical servant nearly died of fright upon seeing Narcissa and Draco approach.
"Oh, noes! Dipsy is being too slow in cleaning the stain! Dipsy is slamming hands in oven as soon as stain is gone, she is!"
The distraught house elf cow-towed before Narcissa and Draco. Draco resisted the urge to kick Dipsy as he passed the cowering creature.
Soon the two were within reach of the heavily carved and gilded door to Lucius' study.
"Enter." Draco heard his father call.
The door opened itself upon Lord Malfoy's command allowing his wife and son passage. Inside the study, Narcissa formally presented her son to Lucius as befitting pureblood custom.
Draco maintained his formality while looking for visitors in his peripheral vision. It was only as Lucius asked him a question that Draco noticed someone sitting in one of his father's dragon hide chairs by the fire.
"How goes your mission at Hogwarts, my son?" Draco saw his father's eyes briefly flicker to the hidden figure in the chair as the question was asked. What's going on? Why has there been no introductions?
"My continued efforts to stir things up have worked as expected, Father. The only Slytherin students of traditional dark families who don't jump when I call are sixth and seventh years. Those who are not already loyal will listen to reason when I point out how they can benefit."
"And what of those outside of Slytherin?" Lucius maintained his interrogation further confusing Draco as the mystery visitor could still hear everything.
"A few good purebloods in Ravenclaw are willing to do as I say but most remain independent." Draco knew better than to comment on Hufflepuff or Gryffindor to his father. Neither Malfoy male expected any followers in those houses.
Draco heard a harsh bark and a few seconds of deep laughter from their mystery guest. His father visibly flinched. Did this fool not know how to show respect to a Lord in their own house? Whoever he was, the wizard in question shifted in his seat and stood to address the Malfoys.
"And what of your connections in Hufflepuff, young Draco? What of the Gryffindors?" The… wizard's… uneven gait did nothing to lessen his shock at how completely unnatural the man looked. How could Father have allowed such a beast into their home?
"My Lord, there are no worthy students in either house… not even of the pureblood lines. They are good for nothing but becoming playthings and servants." Draco was alarmed at his father's declaration.
Was this their Dark Lord? His father deferred to this thing? Whatever Draco himself felt, his mother was obviously trying to hide a stronger reaction. She had not forgotten her poise and pureblood upbringing but Draco could hear his mother's breathing become less controlled.
"Lucius, I'm disappointed in you. Is this how you've been preparing your son to join the ruling class? By telling him to alienate and ignore half of all purebloods?" Draco couldn't help but stare at the stranger now.
The wizard who seemed to have more bruises and scar tissue than healthy skin was staring back into Draco's eyes. Draco felt those blood red eyes on his and froze in place. How could this be the Dark Lord his father said would return from the grave? Was this beast even a wizard at all? His father's plan was doubly cursed; once for being so Gryffindor-ish in nature and once again for being designed to support this thing before them.
For just a moment the Dark Lord seemed to grind his teeth in anger before erupting in more laughter.
"There is potential in you, young Malfoy… but you'll never realize it if you continue as you are now. Do you know why?" As Draco scrambled for an answer that wouldn't get him in trouble with his own father, the being that could only be Voldemort began to pace between Lucius and his family. "Unable to cross your father in his own house, eh boy? I understand your hesitation. He hasn't even introduced us."
Lucius moved to act but a harsh glare from his Master easily cowed the elder Malfoy.
"I am your father's Master. I am Lord Voldemort." There was an awkward silence as the Malfoys waited for Voldemort to speak again.
"I know you have just left school for the year, Draco, but I have a lesson for you. If you want to be truly powerful… if you want to have power beyond what the Malfoy name can get you, then listen. I didn't get where I am by openly insulting the half-bloods, half-breeds and mudbloods that inhabited Hogwarts when I was a student there. No. I was a role model, a prefect and then Head Boy. I didn't openly insult the filth that Dumbledore befouled Hogwarts' halls with, I simply proved that I was better. My grades were better, my magic was stronger and my friends more influential. I didn't tell the filth that I was better than them… they knew it to be true.
"By my seventh year, I was the undisputed master of Slytherin house and a trusted role model to Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff alike. I still had detractors in Gryffindor but at least a third of the house of lions considered me worth knowing. Do you have any friends in Gryffindor, Draco?"
Voldemort had delivered his lesson without turning from Draco's gaze and without stopping his pacing.
"No, My Lord." Draco surprised himself by answering without a stutter.
"You have much to learn about your place in this world, boy. You have years yet before I will accept you into my service, but before I set off, I have a task for you."
"Anything, My Lord."
"Inside of the Slytherin Common Room, you can be open in your opinions, but publicly you will change. Become what I'm sure Dumbledore desperately wanted Potter to be. Become someone one who can unite all four houses. Don't be so foolish as to claim a change of heart, but be more logical, more polite even to the undeserving filth. Don't tell the mudbloods that they are inferior, prove it as you tutor their half-blood friends and lead their girlfriends astray."
Voldemort stopped abruptly at the end of his rant and turned his eyes onto Narcissa. She had been silent and still so far. The Dark Lord smiled as he addressed the lady of the house. "A pleasure as always, Narcissa."
He two took two steps towards the door out before turning to address Lucius one last time. "You shall make ready a wing of the manor for my use. I have much to do these next few days but I will return."
"As you will it, My Lord." Lucius bowed low, an action which both wife and son copied.
The most gruesome Dark Lord to set foot on British soil in centuries made a noise half way between grunt and snort before turning on his heel and leaving the Malfoy family. All three held their silence for several minutes after the heavy gilt door closed behind Lord Voldemort. Finally, a chime sounded. Voldemort apparated out of Malfoy Manor's grounds. They were alone again.
Narcissa spun around and pulled Draco into a deep embrace before releasing her tears.
"This... this is a good thing, Narcissa dear." Lucius spoke up. "Our Lord has returned as I knew he would. You will see the world change now. It will change for the better."
Lucius wanted to comfort his wife, but he knew she was never an eager supporter of the Dark Lord even at the height of Voldemort's power.
"That was not the man who gave you your mark! He will be the end of us all! I don't want my son to follow that thing!" Draco felt his mother shaking against him and wondered how the Dark Lord could possibly claim to be the Heir of Slytherin, a Lord above all other pureblood Lords.
"You must not say such things, Narcissa! His followers have been punished for merely thinking ill of him." Lucius opened the cabinet near his desk and pulled out a crystal decanter of amber liquid. Two crystal chalices quickly followed. "Draco, please finish settling in and amuse yourself until breakfast tomorrow. Your mother and I have much to discuss tonight."
Hesitantly, Draco pulled away from his mother. He could feel her despair. Was it only an hour ago that he genuinely wanted to see the Dark Lord reborn? Draco once thought the Dark Mark would be a mark of honor. He once expected a prince among purebloods to wash away the stain of lesser beings. He hadn't expected a false savior.
"Everything will be fine, Mother. I swear it." Draco kissed his mother's hand before leaving his parents alone to discuss things.
As the young Malfoy Scion retraced his steps down the hall, his eyes strayed to the carpet at his feet. It was clean now... no doubt Dipsy was busy breaking finger bones in the kitchen. Draco pondered his lot in life.
-o\O/o-
July 9th, 1995
Harry Potter was at peace.
This is not to say that he had passed on to the next great adventure, as he hadn't. His was the peace of having everything as it should be. The weather was beautiful. The clouds were fluffy. His girls were happy. If Harry had been alive, he might have even gone so far as to say that life was good. At this time yesterday, he and his girls had been much more anxious.
Well, Harry and Hermione were anxious along with anyone who wasn't eight years old. Gabrielle had been left out of the loop enough to be confused, but otherwise happily distracted. Upon seeing Gigi Bruyere and Aimee Devereux both pin Gabby to the floor and tickle her to within a hairsbreadth of peeing herself, Harry desperately wanted to learn how to possess someone so that he could do the tickling. He could tickle Gabby in her dreams, but it just wasn't the same.
The stress only really left yesterday evening when Daniel and Emma Granger were united once again with their fugitive daughter. They spent only a minute or two in teary reunions before being directed by members of the French Ministry of Magic to a well hidden magical terminal and a set of portkeys direct to the Delacour maison-forte. After polite greetings were exchanged, Alain and Daniel talked over wine as their women spent long hours crying, laughing, talking and crying again. Harry dealt with being nearly undetectable to the elder Grangers by putting Gabrielle to bed and guarding over her dreams.
Yes, in hindsight, yesterday turned out rather well and today was quickly proving even better. Portkeys made sightseeing so much easier as five hundred kilometers were spanned in seconds. The trip took Harry, the Delacours and the Grangers from breakfast on a picturesque hillside within view of the Alps to Sunday Mass in the Meuse Valley.
Domrémy-la-Pucelle is a mostly quiet little commune nestled up against the Meuse River in northeastern France. The village is as beautiful now as it was centuries ago when it is said that three Saints, one of them the Archangel Michael, appeared before an illiterate farmer's daughter and told her to drive the English out of French lands.
Harry achieved his personal feeling of peace in front of the local church as the others attended Mass without him. At first, Harry was a bit disappointed to find that he couldn't actually follow the Delacours and Grangers in to Mass today. Something about established Houses of God led to a unique property that many magicals to this day couldn't quite explain. The church had its own wards; Muggle prayer based ones. Wards that for whatever reason wouldn't let Harry pass through any of the portals, windows or even the walls he tried to breach.
Hermione had a new research topic for the summer.
When Harry's favorite bookworm finally stopped trying to push him through solid objects and followed the others into Mass, Harry was left with nothing to do but shadow tourists and wait for the service to end. Well, to be honest, the waiting part was easy now. Being dead was good for something after all.
Harry knew of course that abandoning his muggle education in favor of Hogwarts did him no favors when it came to English-French relations and world history in general so he paid attention whenever he managed to spot tourists going over the village's history. He very quickly found the village's main attraction not even a stone's throw from the church. There, in a simple yet distinctive house with a sharply sloped roof, Jeanne d'Arc was born. That's Joan of Arc as she's known to the English and American tourists who didn't learn any French before coming to visit. Harry thought it was more than a little ironic that he would have qualified as a member of that group if he were still alive.
Oh, look at that. Another ghost.
At first Harry thought the ghost was a young man, but as he approached, he realized that he was in fact a she. Harry figured she was older than him but she really didn't look more than twenty or so. Once he looked past her unflattering clothes, he saw that she was quite a nice looking girl. True, she was nowhere close to the standard of a Delacour Veela, but she would have done alright for herself in Hogwarts.
Harry began to feel a little guilty about checking her out... she was on her knees praying. That must be double the sin of looking at a girl who's not praying, right? And in front of a church on Sunday of all days, too. Harry wanted to joke about going to Hell for such thoughts, but found that those jokes seemed much less funny and far more serious now that his heart had stopped working.
Harry looked around the grounds between the famous warrior maiden's birthplace and the church that said girl must have grown up worshiping in. Nope. No other ghosts. Just him and her. Despite rising curiosity, Harry kept his distance. If he were praying on a Sunday, he wouldn't want to be interrupted either. That tied in to why he was disappointed wards could keep him out of the centuries old church; Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia never took Harry to church with them... they said he wasn't good enough, that he'd burn to cinders the moment he crossed the threshold. How ironic.
"Pardon me." Harry continued to stare at the modest stone church, straining to feel Gabrielle's presence. At least she seems happy in there. "Pardon me, young man."
Harry turned around. Was someone actually addressing him?
"Have you come to pray too?" The girl. She was talking to Harry.
"Well, I would have liked to. My aunt and uncle never really let me go to church with them... and now that I'm like this, I can't seem to get past the door." Harry had gestured to his own transparent body while talking.
The girl nodded.
"They keep me out too. I pray every day hoping that God will let me back into His church... but He is punishing me. I can't enter and I can't..." The girl let a tear fall down her left cheek as she looked heavenward. No wonder she was praying outside. Why would a girl like her still be Earthbound?
"I can't imagine why God would punish a nice girl like you. Are you sure there isn't another reason why you... er... stayed here? My... end... was less than pleasant and I really didn't have what you'd call a full life."
"May I ask how?" Harry smiled. It wasn't really painful to talk about his death, just awkward.
"You'll never guess, what with all the guns and cars and drugs these days. Especially considering that I've been like this for less than a year now." Her eyebrows rose up, tears forgotten for a minute or two. "I got a spear to the chest as I was swimming my way out of a lake."
"Really? I can't tell you the last time I saw someone take a spear in the chest! Must have been a hundred years at least... no... it was much longer than that. And that was on dry land..." She looked up curiously. "How did that happen?"
How much should he say? The girl seemed quite devout... she may not take kindly to him being magical.
"Well, there was this girl. A sweet little girl that got pulled into Black Lake by these men that wanted to kill her. I don't know all the details, but it was a longstanding blood feud sort of thing. Anyway, I tried to pull her out of the lake, but before I could, one of the men ran his spear through both me and her." The dead girl seemed quite interested in Harry's story so far. "Luckily, someone I knew pulled the girl out and took her to get healed, but I… well, as you can see I didn't quite make it back to shore."
"Black Lake? I'm not sure I've heard of that one. So. This little girl is still alive then?"
"Yes. She's in that church right now. I wanted to go in with her, but… the doors…" Harry looked back to the church and focused on his Little Angel. Gabby was bored. Bored and fidgety.
"I….." The girl started, but seemed to have trouble getting her next line out. "I was tried for heresy and burned. I believed with all my heart and soul that I was a faithful servant of God. I don't understand why I'm still here. Were they right?"
Harry looked back to his ghost companion to see fear and uncertainty etched into her face. What could he say?
"I don't know. I wish I could help- and if I ever can, I will. Promise." Harry brought out his best smile. "I feel like praying… perhaps if I pray for you and you pray for me, our prayers will be answered one day."
Harry went down to his knees and brought his hands together just as he saw the girl doing before. Suddenly, he realized just how impolite he'd been so far.
"Pardon me for not introducing myself. My name is Harry and I'm very please to meet you, Miss."
"Jeanne. My name is Jeanne. I'm pleased to meet you, Harry." Jeanne turned to kneel next to Harry. With matching smiles, they both began to pray.
Twenty minutes later, Harry's prayers were interrupted by an angel.
"Harry!" Gabrielle was running right for him. Hermione had been held up at the doors with her parents, but she was moving his way too. Harry waved to both of his girls.
"Gabrielle! What has your mother told you about speaking to imaginary friends in public?" Gabby ignored the brunette behind her until she was toe to toe with Harry, the 'imaginary friend' in question.
"Don't scold her too much, 'Mione. I have my own 'imaginary friend' now. Her name is Jeanne." Harry looked around for Jeanne, but she must have left when he was distracted. "Funny, I didn't expect her to just leave without saying goodbye."
"Maybe we scared her off. She was a ghost, wasn't she?" Hermione looked at Gabby even though her questions were for Harry. She would not be caught talking to empty air in the middle of this quaint little village. Gabby, for her part, was content to sip from a water bottle and look around. It really was a pretty day.
"Could be. And yes, she was dead. Oh! She couldn't get into the church either. It's not just me, then. Pity. She wanted in much more than I did."
"Should I be jealous, Harry? Going to sneak off and snog a local girl when I'm sleeping?" Hermione tried to look jealous, but the smile kind of gave her away.
"Never! Jeanne's a nice and very religious girl! She was praying when I met her. Why they burned her at the stake, I'll never know. Much too nice a girl to deserve that kind of thing. Now Pansy Parkinson, on the other hand…"
"Burned at the stake… witchcraft?" Hermione was trying to work something out. Harry could tell.
"No. Heresy." He really did want to meet her again. Maybe coming back on the occasional Sunday could be worked into his schedule.
"Just what did this Jeanne look like, Harry?" Fleur and the others had come up behind Hermione. With this kind of group, it would be easier to speak directly to him without getting the attention of strangers.
"She was shorter than me… not too much. Short dark hair. She was a nice looking girl except for unflattering clothes." Harry thought back to their little talk. What else could he say about her? "She's been dead for at least a hundred years but probably a lot longer than that. When I told her I got speared, she mentioned how long it's been since she's seen someone get a spear to the chest before."
The older Delacours began to quickly pass an idea back and forth in half whispers that Harry didn't completely catch. Hermione and her parents were similarly confused.
"What? Was it something I said?" Harry hadn't been so obviously left out of a Delacour family conversation since he got to France. It kind of hurt, really.
"Oh no, dear." Apolline turned her attention to the rest of the group. "It's just that we've heard of a ghost named Jeanne before. All French magicals know of her, but she's really quite shy and skittish. It would make sense to see here here."
"Really? So she's as popular as a Hogwarts ghost, then?" At Harry's question, Alain laughed.
"No, Harry. Jeanne is much, much more famous than that. If you met who we think you did, than you just met a patron saint of France." Alain's declaration caused Hermione to gasp. She must have figured it out.
"Did you really just meet Jeanne of Arc?!" Hermione had trouble breathing. She had seen another ghost next to Harry when Gabby started running, but it… she… bolted as soon as Gabby yelled for Harry. Harry talked Jeanne of Arc! Hermione saw Jeanne of Arc with her own eyes! This was almost as big as when she learned that she was a witch! Why, it could be bigger!
While Hermione was too frantic to see the connection, this was exactly how some English magicals felt about seeing Harry Potter for the very first time. She had just out-fangirled Romilda Vane.
So Jeanne was the local girl that became world famous battling the English, huh? Harry saw part of a movie about her once. Vernon caught him that time. Bad memories. Very bad memories.
"Well, maybe I'll see her again some time. You never know, eh?" Jeanne looked like she could use a friend, and maybe some day he could help her get in that church.
-o\O/o-
July 14th, 1995
"... and I officially sent my non-magical transcripts, Hogwarts grades and class rankings as well as a personal letter stating my educational goals along with the Very First Ever (Unofficial) Hogwarts transfer request... signed by my parents... in triplicate."
Alain Delacour was having a rare Friday evening with his family and guests at the family penthouse in the heart of Paris. He rarely got to enjoy an evening listening to everyone gossip about their week as magical French-English diplomacy had taken a rather harsh turn in the past few weeks. Unfortunately for him, it was difficult to ignore the increasingly angry English rhetoric aimed at his own Little Angel. Even the revelation of Potter's Mark within the pages of the Daily Prophet was twisted to be another Dark Mark. Never before had Alain considered the near isolationist policies of his magical neighbors across the channel to be a silver lining and not a cloud in his political dealings. God forbid a similar incident happen with any of the continental magical powers.
"I can already tell you, Hermione, that many of my associates just down the hall in the Department of Education are as pleased as our dear Headmistress Maxime to see your paperwork submitted. With the baseless trash that passes as news and radio fare back in London, few if any of our own Ministry's employees are inclined to listen to Minister Fudge's demands to 'return Ministry property' and to send you back to their loving embrace. Don't be surprised to find yourself the lead story in The Mystic in a day or two."
Hermione blushed at the thought of two magical nations fighting over her. Harry never got that kind of attention and he was the Boy-Who-Lived. Sitting next to Hermione, Daniel and Emma were trying not to react too much. They were both of the opinion that their daughter was the most intelligent, most beautiful girl on Earth, magical or not... but that didn't mean they were comfortable with her being an international chew toy.
"And... and you're sure they won't try something underhanded? Like a portkey or some such magical trap?" Daniel had to ask again. True, he'd heard the answer before, but there's nothing like learning how easy it is for Minister Fudge and his lackeys to lie, threaten and bribe their way through life to make him fear for his daughter's safety.
Daniel was seated to Alain's left with Emma and Hermione. There was one unused setting between Hermione and Apolline's seat at the other end of the table. To Apolline's left, another unused setting was open before Gabby and Fleur filled the last two seats on their father's right. Segolene was home with her mother for the time being. Harry... well, he tended to shift from one unused setting to the next depending on which of his witches he wanted to sit next to.
"Fudge has no influence outside of England and Dumbledore is less influential than he would like to think." Alain took another sip of his wine. "What few illicit contacts the English keep in France are constantly monitored and international traffic is tightly controlled. You have little to fear so long as you remain our guests. You have my word."
"Maman, I have received a letter from Cedric. Despite prevailing sentiment in his home country, he intends to travel through France in early August and requests permission to visit." Fleur took her fathers words as an opportunity to change subjects.
"And does Cedric intend to court you on this visit?" Apolline couldn't resist. Her little babies were growing up!
"Does his father know about Cedric's plans? Mister Diggory is a Ministry official... part of the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures if I remember correctly." Alain couldn't help but ask.
Alain knew that Fleur was in full bloom physically and fresh from her N.E.W.T.s academically; she would be the target of much male adoration. Too much, really. As a father, it made him cringe and yet it was with no small amount of pride that he could admit to siring one of the most desirable teenaged witches in France, if not Western Europe. He also knew that there were those both in and out of Europe that considered his wife and daughters to be sub-human. The elder Diggory's job at the British Ministry of Magic was to regulate and control his women and others like them who possess more magical blood than common witches would have.
"Cedric mentioned that his father expects him to report back on the condition of Hermione's 'imprisonment'. While Segolene was planning on modifying Hermione's Hogwarts uniform to become neglige when she came back, -(Hermione blushed deep at that revelation)- perhaps we should just cut it up some and add dirt and food stains. If we are to sacrifice her soul to a demon queen as the Prophet is currently proclaiming, then Mother's pure, angelic slave should look the part of a sacrificial victim, no?"
"My vote's for the neglige." Harry wanted to see that. Harry also wanted to see Hermione reproduce that look in the dreamworld later. Maybe Harry could catch Hermione sleeping at some time or other when Gabby's up and energetic. Brilliant.
Apolline and Fleur both began to laugh at how quickly Harry had cast his vote. Alain maintained his composure. Gabby giggled in that 'I don't know what's funny' way young children have when they completely miss the grown-up joke that must be funny for everyone else to laugh.
Hermione's face burned hot enough to fry eggs on and her parents were feeling a little left out. As non-magical people, they still couldn't see or hear Harry unless he was in a wizarding photo. Zoé had taken it upon herself to correct this problem by following the Grangers and taking wizarding photos any time Hermione or her parents were in a good pose with Harry. Emma and Daniel were both impressed and disturbed that proof of an unseen, unheard boy was so easy to come by.
As Hermione quietly explained the joke to her parents, Alain chose to address the real issue. "So long as the young man is willing to swear an oath that he report back honestly... and treat you with respect... then I see no problem with hosting him for a week. Will that be sufficient, Princess?"
"Thank you, Papa. I will send a reply." Fleur blushed, not from her father's approval of Cedric but of his use of her childhood nickname. She silently resolved to continue calling Gabrielle 'Little Angel' for at least three more decades.
"How is your former professor doing, Hermione? You've been keeping up with Professor McGonagall, haven't you?" Hermione started at Apolline's question, explanations about her dead boyfriend's opinion on the dirty school girl look versus the submissive victim look were thankfully derailed en mass.
"Oh, she's doing very well! I just go a new letter in the other day. At first, she was a little disheartened to find that neither Beauxbatons nor Salem had openings for a Transfiguration Master, even one of her caliber. Apparently she's found a promising tutoring job here in France, one that may last long enough for her to wait out the Beauxbatons Professor who's rumored to be retiring soon." This was a subject Hermione could really sink her teeth into. In a year or two, she may actually get to study under her former Head of House again!
While Hermione's focus began to drift, Apolline winked at her youngest. Gabby smiled brilliantly and winked back to her mother in a highly over exaggerated way. Hermione was the only one at the table that missed her gesture.
"Speaking of tutors," Apolline took control of the discussion again, "Alain and I have agreed to hire a tutor for Gabrielle to start some of the wand arts a little early."
This got everyone's attention. Apolline may look less than half her husband's age (much less than half if you asked any of the Grangers) but she was the undisputed queen of the dinner table's social schedule.
"We are concerned that Little Angel's uncommon ability with Harry's wand could lead to trouble later on if she doesn't learn good wand discipline soon. Hermione?"
The English witch looked to Apolline. "Yes, Auntie Apolline?"
"While our intent is to help Gabrielle first and foremost, the witch I am interviewing Monday morning has time and energy enough for several students."
Gabrielle was vibrating, near exploding with excitement. Fleur smiled but was otherwise well composed. Hermione still didn't know the Delacour girls close enough to better read their reactions and merely thought they were excited about the tutor. In a way, they were.
Hermione thanked God for France's less restrictive under-aged magic use laws. Unsupervised magic was still illegal before O.W.L.s, but proper lessons were allowed. She couldn't think of a single Weasley that would be visibly excited by the thought of a summer tutor though. To be fair, Ginny may have been willing to have summer lessons at the Burrow and at least one of the older boys took interest in a Mastery... but to actually seem excited at a tutor's arrival? The twins might pretend to be excited just to mess with Ron.
"Thank you, Auntie." Hermione and Harry smiled at each other. Even with a few clouds on the horizon, the future was still looking bright.
-o\O/o-
July 15th, 1995
"Alain?" Hermione's parents had been looking for a chance to speak with their host without the children around for quite some time. Tonight all four of the younger residents, ghost included, were having movie night. Willow was nearly over and cassettes for both Ghost and Forrest Gump were sitting by the VHS player. Gabrielle was getting drowsy already.
"Emma. Daniel. What can I do for you?" Alain was reclining on a balcony overlooking the Eiffel tower, a brandy in one hand and a cigarette in the other.
POP
Virginie, Zoé's cousin, popped onto the balcony and offered the elder Grangers a selection of drinks and tobaccos to chose from. Emma chose to go without while her husband partook of the proffered Scotch.
"What haven't you done for us would be a better summation of the past week." Daniel started.
"I want you to know that we are very thankful for the help you've provided us-" He motioned between himself and Emma, who nodded in support. "-especially in the protection given to our daughter. I used to think that as a former military officer I would be able to protect Hermione from anything life could throw at her. That feeling of security ended on her eleventh birthday."
Daniel took a stiff shot of his scotch before continuing on. Alain and Emma both stayed quiet as not to break his train of thought.
"More than once we've come close to pulling Hermione out of Hogwarts. Two years ago we even went so far as to request copies of withdrawal forms from the Ministry, only to have a rather rude letter returned by owl stating that we could withdraw our daughter, but only if we were willing to have her magic bound and all knowledge of the magical world erased from the three of us.
"We couldn't take magic away from Hermione... she wanted it more than anything and to hell with the trolls and magical illnesses. Check that, giant snakes. Wasn't a 'magical illness' at all... but I digress. The point is that it's about time we started paying you and your family back for your help."
Alain smiled.
"Your daughter is a wonderful young lady and it is my honor and pleasure to support her, and her equally exceptional parents, in their time of need. You are guests of the Delacours and as my guests you will not pay one franc or pound or galleon for anything I have to offer."
"At least let us pay for her summer lessons." Emma blurted out the very thing she and her husband had agreed on as soon as they heard the word tutor.
Alain laughed.
Daniel and Emma both looked at each other confused. Their host would never intentionally insult them, so this must be something else. With their unvoiced conversation over in a fraction of a second, they both turned back to Alain and waited for his explanation.
"... ha-ha... hmmmmm. Please excuse me. Ohhhhh, I hope you do not take offense, but your daughter has already brought up the issue of repayment for any lessons she may take." Alain brought up his cigarette and took a deep breath. "I'm guessing that Hermione has not shown the two of you her Gringotts ledger, has she?"
Both Grangers shook their heads. They were curious but also knew that Hermione had her reasons for putting it off.
"Just this morning, she and Harry cornered me in my study. The two of them knew that Hermione had money in Gringotts, but neither of them had much experience with magical estates or goblin bookkeeping. Believe me, these are not areas to be left to amateurs."
"So they wanted to pay but didn't know for sure if they could?" Emma was surprised. There must be something special about Goblin bookkeeping if Hermoine couldn't crack the code.
"You could say that." Alain forced down his amusement. Finance should be dealt with seriously. "Shortly after our announcement about the tutoring, Hermione finally had a real reason to open her ledger rather than hide it. I'm told Harry was suddenly quite curious to know how much he was worth. For whatever reason, nobody ever told him what to expect. At the very least, Dumbledore should have... but it's too late for that isn't it? Anyway, Hermione very quickly discovered two problems.
"First, she didn't know what the current conversion rates were. I told her that the exchange rate varies drastically from bank to bank and from country to country and that The Mystic would have a current quote in the last edition. Her follow up question was about accessing her vault, as it was in London. While this would be a problem if she wanted to... say... invest in a business or buy real estate, anything less is easily handled by bank transfers."
"So our daughter can pay for the lessons, then?" Daniel was ready to pick up another drink. He hated talking finance.
"Quite easily. Perhaps a bit of background is in order. You see, I knew a little about the Potters due to my work, but watching a strange boy die for my little girl made me want to learn all I could of this Boy-Who-Lived. While the Potter name doesn't carry the weight it once did, Harry was the last blood descendant of a very old magical line. Unfortunately, the men of the line were historically known for volunteering when they heard the Call to Arms and the Potter name eroded slowly one war at a time. I heard your daughter mention on more than one occasion that Harry had... still has... a 'saving people thing'. It seems to be the defining trait in all Potters. While quite noble, this means that the Potters did not amass vast fortunes."
"So she'll go through Harry's money quickly if we don't place some restrictions? I'm sure she would still consider summer tutoring a worthy investment." Emma was right for the most part.
"I agree that tutoring is a wise investment, but Hermione would likely need Fleur's help to burn through that much money quickly. I only had a few minutes to read over her ledger, but I expect that Hermione could buy your home in England and the penthouse we are currently residing in at the same time and still have a small cushion to live on for a few years. She also owns a few dozen acres in Wales. Her land in Godric's Hollow is the traditional Potter homestead."
Emma and Daniel remained quiet. This was a lot to take in at one time. Considering the location and view of this City of Light penthouse, it was possible that Hermione was worth more than they were.
-o\O/o-
July 17th, 1995
Gabby's room in their family penthouse in Paris was nothing like Hermione thought it would be. She expected to see wall to wall stuffed animals and tea sets but instead found a studio of the arts. Violins and a viola occupied one corner next to a music stand. Ballet slippers, leotards and tutus were hanging in the eight year old's closet. Two easels were set up near a window with eastern exposure. Paint stains seemed to dot the room in defiance of the Delacour family elves. The girl in question could be heard singing on the other side of a richly stained door. She was supposed to be brushing her teeth.
"Zoé." Fleur called from beside her English friend.
POP
"Mistress calls for Zoé? I am here to serve." Zoé curtseyed before the witches.
"Please lay out one of Gabrielle's school uniforms. She will be taking wand lessons today."
"Zoe will do as Mistress asks of her."
"Perhaps you should make her uniform fireproof." Fleur added almost as an afterthought. Hermione had heard of some incident involving fire at Fleur's first charms lesson, but the Veela simply refused to answer any follow up questions.
"I will also let out the hem. Young Mistress Gabrielle is getting taller this summer."
"Thank you Zoé."
POP
Hermione was pleased to see her friend act polite to Zoé. While the Delacour family house elves were still clearly servants, they were given respect and gratitude for all their work. Perhaps if Hermione were subtle about the question...
"Why does your family own slaves?" Perhaps Hermione should research the meaning of the word subtle or get off of her pulpit before trying to be subtle...
Many would have reacted poorly to Hermione's questions. Fleur had been expecting this question ever since she discovered Hermione would be fleeing England.
"We have elves bound to our family, this is true. We do not have slaves."
"Do you pay Zoé and Virginie wages?"
"Of course not."
"But they serve your house?"
"Yes."
"They're slaves!" Hermione was quite comfortable on her pulpit. Subtlety could be ignored for now.
"Hermione, there is more to house elves than you know. But don't take my word for it. Zoé?"
POP
"Mistress calls for Zoé?" The petit elf popped in and asked her question without stopping her chore. Little hands were jerking back and forth in a blur as the hem to Gabby's light blue school uniform skirt was let out a centimeter or three.
"She calls you Mistress and obeys your commands without pay. How is that not slavery?"
"Zoé. Please explain our relationship to Miss Granger."
The elf in question didn't even pause in her needlework to answer. Young Mistress Gabrielle was going to need her skirt soon.
"Elves like Zoé be needing witches and wizards to live, Mistress Granger. We cannot live without their magic."
"That's just what they want you to think. Dobby was freed from the Malfoy's and is living just fine."
"No, Mistress Granger. You not knowing how elf magic works. Witches like Mistress Fleur be having a magical core. Elves like Zoé be not having one. I be needing magic of others."
"Wh- what?" Hermione never heard this before. Why hadn't she ever heard this before?
"Long ago... too long to be remembering when... elves be losing their magic and be close to dieing off. Elves that be living with wizard kind be staying living while whole villages of elves in forests be lost forever. Elves be finding that healthiest of them all are ones who serve wizard families as maids and butlers. Why? Elves thinking it be magic is given in orders and work. Big wizard family meaning much magic to give to elves. Wizard schools be having lots of elves because hallways and dormitories and classrooms be glowing with magic for elves to be using." Just another four hundred and thirty-six stitches left and Gabby's skirt would be ready.
Hermione was shocked. No one had ever bothered to explain house elves to her before and the Hogwarts Library was only good for identifying magical creatures, not explaining their origins. Was this the kind of knowledge that pureblood magicals were taught in early childhood?
"S- so... your an energy vampire?"
"Zoé not being a vampire, Mistress Granger. Zoé not being making wizards into elves with bites." Two hundred and eighty-seven stitches remaining.
"I'm sorry, Zoé. That's not what I meant. I meant that you need to get your magic from another living thing. Couldn't English elves just live in the Forbidden Forest with all of the other magical creatures?"
"No, Mistress Granger. Elves cannot be taking magic from other creatures because creatures be not giving it away. Wizards be using magic in spells and wands and enchantments and be always making more magic in their cores. Wizard kind is being only hope for elves to live."
"Dobby is alive after being given clothes. Harry freed Dobby. Why isn't he dead?" Hermione didn't want to believe what she heard.
Was evolution responsible for creating a slave race? Was a sickness that only affected elven kind responsible? Hermione had heard of several magical illnesses that could turn wizards into squibs if left untreated. Perhaps this was similar?
"Where is Dobby being now?" Twelve stitches left... and... done!
"Dobby is-"
POP
"Dobby is here! Does Harry Potter's Missy Granger need Dobby?"
"Good morning, Dobby. I was just discussing house elves and why they serve wizarding families with Fleur and Zoé, here. Can you tell me how it is that you are still alive if you were freed from the Malfoys?" Hermione knew that this would be her only chance to rally. If she could just get Dobby to deny one small part of Zoé's explanation, then she could claim it's all just propaganda.
"Oh, yes! Dobby is free of the Evil Malfoys! Dobby hates Malfoys but Dobby loves the Great Harry Potter Sir and the Great Harry Potter's Missy Granger and the Great Harry Potter's school Hoggy Warts and Dobby be doing much work keeping the Great Harry Potter's school clean and the students happy! Dobby is a good elf!"
"Zoé be thinking Dobby be too loud! Dobby being quiet for Mistress Fleur and Mistress Hermione." Dobby immediately nodded and brought himself under control. "Zoé is being finished with Young Mistress Gabrielle's skirt. May Zoé be excused?"
"Yes. Thank you, Zoé." Fleur addressed the little elf who seemed to be doing quite well in her lecture to Hermione before Dobby interrupted.
POP
"And thank you, Dobby. You are a good friend." Hermione thought about Dobby's long trip from Hogwarts or wherever he had been before getting summoned. "I don't really have anything for you to do, so if you wanted to return to... whatever it was that you were doing, then you can."
"And... what if... what if Dobby wanted to stay?"
He really did look pitiful. When did he learn how to do the 'sad puppy' look? Hermione wanted to say he could stay, but really it wasn't her decision to make. Luckily, there was someone in the room who could make that decision.
"Dobby?" Fleur spoke up.
"Yes, Missy Flower? What can Dobby do for you?" The little elf was smiling. It was obvious that he'd rather stay with them near 'The Great Harry Potter Sir', at least for a little while.
"Could you find Harry for us? Our guest is supposed to arrive soon."
"Dobby will find the Great Harry Potter Sir for Missy Flower."
POP
As potential students finished getting ready, Apolline watched the flames in her foyer fireplace turn green. The flames peaked for a moment as the figure of a witch entered Paris from the UK.
-knock, knock-
"Gabby? Are you decent?" On the other side of her bathroom door, Hermione heard giggling. "We're coming in."
Fleur opened the door to her sister's private bathrooms and stopped dead at the spectacle before her. Hermione was about to step around her until she too saw what was happening and froze.
Gabrielle was mostly dressed, but she was still without shoes and her hat. That wasn't the problem. Gabrielle was giggling madly and twirling about in her stockings. That wasn't what Fleur wanted to see, but it still wasn't the problem.
"Gabrielle..." "Dobby..." Fleur and Hermione shouted together. "STOP!"
Gabrielle froze in place and her eyes widened into an 'I'm in trouble' look. Dobby froze, and in doing so froze the two magical rivers of water spewing out of Gabby's personal sinks. The immobile water etched two spiral paths around Gabby and seemed to dip and bob from only a few centimeters above the tile floor to a few centimeters from the ceiling. By some miracle, the floor was still dry. On closer inspection, Hermione noticed that both airborn rivers seemed to be anchored to a floor drain in the center of the room.
The silent tableau was only broken when a ghost pulled himself out from inside one of the faucets to see why all the fun stopped.
"Dobby? Is there someth- uh, oh... Good morning, 'Mione. Morning, Fleur." Harry used his best innocent schoolboy look.
"Harry Potter! What have you been doing?!" Oh, dear. Hermione was not happy. "Gabrielle needs to be ready to meet the tutor any minute now and she's not ready. Honestly, what were you thinking?"
Dobby, Harry and Gabby all looked at each other for a few seconds before Harry started snickering. Gabby relaxed from her pirouette and began to giggle again. Dobby smirked and banished all of the water into a large bathtub along the far wall.
"Play time is over, Little Angel. Get your shoes on." Fleur had her arms crossed and was tapping her foot, but a smile was threatening to force it's way onto her face. The mess wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been.
Harry looked over to see that Hermione was the only one that was still upset.
"I'm sorry 'Mione, but Gabby wanted to see a trick and I just figured out how Myrtle messes with the pipes back at Hogwarts. Dobby was here to keep her from getting messy the whole time."
As Harry tried to calm Hermione down, Gabby slipped both shoes on and began to pull her hair into a tail. Fleur silently came behind her and performed a quick braid charm and added a silk ribbon bow at the end.
"All she needs is her hat, see?"
And seconds later, Gabby was fully dressed.
POP
"Lady Apolline be wanting you all in the sitting room. We be having a guest."
"Thank you, Virginie." Fleur dismissed the elf. Noting that Hermione was still giving Harry the evil eye, she chose to come to his rescue by them all to her mother. "Come on. We're done here."
As the others filed out of Gabrielle's bathroom, Virginie began to clean up the sinks and Gabby's discarded clothes from earlier. Fleur led them through a few rooms and halls until they could hear Apolline speaking to the as yet unseen tutor.
"... well I'm sure that I won't be able to find a more qualified person to help Little Angel no matter how far I look."
Fleur stopped at the last door opening and held her hand out to keep the others from entering the sitting room. Her mother saw Fleur decided that introductions were in order. Or perhaps reintroductions would be a better term. Apolline nodded to her eldest, giving Fleur the okay to enter.
"Good morning Professor. It's so good to see you again." Fleur curtseyed before their guest prompting Gabrielle to do the same.
"Good morning Professor." Hermione turned the corner just ahead of Harry as Gabrielle was in the middle of her curtsey.
"Good morn- Oh! P-Professor McGonagall! What are you doing in Paris?!" Hermione stopped short of her planned curtsey causing Harry to accidentally pass through the girl. He was too busy gaping at his former Head of House to stop.
"Oh, lass. You don't know how happy I am to see the lot of you. And to see you so happy and healthy as well! Let me have a look at you." Minerva stepped up to the fifteen year old ex-Gryffindor and braced herself as her favorite student in years slammed into her and began to cry her eyes out. The ladies Delacour all quietly moved to the side as if they all knew this would happen... which they did.
Following Gabby, Harry turned to Apolline and whispered, "You are hiring her, right?"
Apolline nodded quickly.
Everything was going to be okay.
-o\O/o-
Calais.
A man and his dog stepped off of the ferry from Dover, conveniently side stepping the non-magical officials by means of notice-me-not charms.
These charms did nothing to keep four aurors in navy blue cloaks from surrounding the pair in a loose ring, wands out.
"I'm afraid, Sir, that you forgot a few important steps that are necessary for international travel." The lead auror held this Englishman's attention while his fellow aurors got ready to cast.
Remus Lupin held his empty hands out to either side in as nonthreatening a posture as a werewolf could manage.
"I'm sorry about that, but we really don't want to go back if we can help it. Would it be possible to tell Alain Delacour that Harry Potter's godfather wants to talk to him?"
"Are you telling me that you are Harry Potter's godfather?" The lead auror looked at one of his men behind the stranger. Wands were raised.
"No, he is." Remus looked at the dog.
Not liking this plan, but unable to come up with a better one, Sirius Black reverted to human form. At least the French were likely to imprison him here rather than send him back to England with all the bad blood between their magical ministries.
Four silent stupefies were cast by the ring of French aurors.
After a brief surge of red light, darkness took both Moony and Padfoot.
End Chapter
Reviews or some of them anyway...
Everyone who reviewed Chapter Five: So, a lot of you chimed in about Maxime chopping up Dumbledore's name as being intentional. I figure you're right and I was too dense to see it the first time.
If you still have questions about animancora, and Lily's short lived one in particular, well, I'm not sure I can do better than to ask you to re-read the Prologue. No, Lily does not come back. She missed that boat.
BloodySeraphim – I did say that Harry will try to push Hermione to find love among the living, but he isn't ready for that yet and I also said Hermione may resist his best efforts. As things now stand, we have an innocent version of the HP/HG/GD triangle. Love is clear for all to see even if it is not tainted by desire. Okay, maybe it's a little tainted on one side of the triangle...
Sir Trib The Bold – Even in cannon, The Prophet has been a paper of dubious value from the very beginning. The wizarding public has been proven time and time again to be very susceptible to what they read in the Prophet too. I was about to continue this response but realized I don't want to write an essay on why Dumbles is an ass tonight. Sorry.
jay21317 – I did correct Cedric's age but I will not be revising my stand on NEWTs. After the tournament, Harry still had to take his OWLs next year and we all infer that he would have gone back for his NEWTs after Snakeface bought it. Why let Krum and Delacour get out of the NEWTs if Harry gets no such golden ticket? My answer is to make them all take the tests. Let them out of normal end of year testing, but keep the international standards in place.
Dracco – I am going with the assumption that what slander laws Magical England has are weak or otherwise easy to slip by with the right bribe, and right now the whole of the Ministry of Magic is against our heroines.
deitarion/SSokolow – Usually stories tend to have Minnie take Albus's job rather than leave outright. She is very dedicated to the children, but I think that seeing Albus keep Snape after she made her emotional threat would be a hard blow to take. She isn't really protecting the students as much as she thought she was. Her only option is to find children she can help and start over.
So you want to be an Author – Segolene Royal is in there not so much due to me, but due to the fact that Segolene was one name my wife remembered from her time in French class and working as a nanny to a Parisian family that relocated to Valdosta, Georgia for some horrible reason. Really, why would you do that? I also plan to sneak other actual French people into the story on occasion. Alizee must be a Veela. Really. She must be. Did you know that Sohpia Loren became a French citizen? Italian or French, she's got to be another Veela.
brigrove – The French are protecting the Grangers if you consider Alain as doing things on behalf of his country. If there is a real snatch and grab attempt, then French aurors would be there in seconds flat just like they would if the target were Alain himself. Dumbles certainly lost most of the respect Hermione had for him, but she left before she could equate him with Fudge and Umbridge. Cedric is a good guy, but he knows that any noble actions on his part could reflect poorly on his dad. He'll just be a little sneaky about it.
damon blade – I'm not saying that it's guaranteed to happen, but they did just watch the movie Ghost, so the idea of a possession based snog may come up. Harry has only just begun to experiment with his spectral limits.
ryuou – That depends on your definition of real/actual love. I really actually love my children and I have since before each of them was born, but I suspect you mean marriage/mating love and not pure innocent love. Even in their dreams, Harry and Hermione could be years away from actually shagging. And that's why he will start to feel inadequate as the eternal fourteen year old boy. Gabrielle is MANY years away from that. I'm not a pedophile and this story will not feature pedophelia.
Memories-of-the-Shadows – When he died, Harry gave Gabby everything he had. Everything. That snake faced bastard better stay away for his own good. But when was he ever smart like that?
whimsy007 – Things will change, but you are going to have to wait for the magical schools to open their doors again for all of the changes to be visible.
