A/N:

Imagine Ivycore to sound like Halestorm.

Disclaimer: Don't own anything, all rights go to the respectful owners.


A flash of green light erupted from the fireplace, and Victoire stumbled into the living room. It was pitch black as she tripped over her heels and grabbed a credenza in the corner for support. The crisp English air came with the blonde, but she immediately felt warm from the heating enchantments within her home.

Victoire ever so carefully looked around, praying that her parents wouldn't be up. After her incident with Teddy, the head girl had run into the girl's bathrooms, had a breakdown, then came back out and finished off four shots of firewhiskey. Needless to say she needed help getting into Micthell Keelthorpe's fireplace in his London apartment.
Her head was spinning while she took deep but silent breaths, hoping and praying that she would be able to get to bed and sleep off the excessive alcohol.

Quickly but quietly, Victoire took off her strappy heels and felt instant relief once her feet were bare. She then tiptoed over the carpet, making her way to the staircase. She took her time, but could feel the anxiety rising in her stomach as her tipsy brain made her stumble slightly. However, the Gryffindor recovered and let out a sigh of relief when she realised that nothing had been knocked over.

But when the lamps in the room came on came on, Victoire let out a groan of defeat.

"Do you have any idea what time it is, young lady?"

Slowly turning around, Victoire faced Hermione. The woman sat, with her legs and arms crossed, in a white armchair next to the wall of books. She was in her pyjamas with her hair cascading down her shoulder to frame her face. The light from the lamps accentuated the look of rage on the older woman's face.

Victoire felt knees tremble under her mother's glare.

"Well? What is the time?" Hermione's voice was cold and clear, and Victoire swore that her mother could break ice with it.

"…Midnight?"

Wrong answer.

"It is 2:13am," Hermione jerked her head to the clock on the wall. Unlike other clocks Wizards would keep in their homes, this one was just a regular wall clock that clearly read the time. Victoire scrunched up her eyes, but hiccupped and instantly regretted drinking the firewhiskey.

Hermione narrowed her eyes,

"Do you remember what you said to me before you left?"

"I…said I'd let you know when I would be leaving the club," Victoire tried her best not to slur her words, but it was no use. Hermione stood up so quickly that it shocked the eldest child.

"I have been waiting for you in that chair since midnight," Hermione's voice was growing tenser with every sentence. Victoire had no choice but to stand there, with her messy hair, smudged makeup and lopsided dress.

"I'm sorry, mum, I really am…some stuff happened between Teddy and me then I had a breakdown and like four firewhiskeys (maybe?) but I didn't leave the club except to get home from Mitchell's apar-"

"There are criminals in London! Alcoholics and drug-dealers! There are people who will hurt you without thinking twice! What possessed you to not tell us?!" Hermione shrilly cut off her daughter, and the lamps flickered with the elder Gryffindor's rage.

Victoire let herself shrink as her mother continued to scold her,

"Do you have any idea how worried I was?! Your mother was not happy that I cut our private time off to phone George and Neville to see if they could get a hold of their daughters! Why is it so difficult for you children to let us know that you are alive! What if a death eater took you?! What if some lowlife hurt you?! What if you were attacked by some stranger?!"

"Mum, I'm really sorry…I'm so sorry," Victoire croaked out weakly, feeling her throat tightened as one of the light bulbs shattered. Hermione closed her eyes and deflated, running a hand through her hair with a sigh.

"Go to bed. Tomorrow, I am going to sit down with you and your mother and we are going to decide on your punishment together. Do you understand?"

Victoire could only nod sloppily, then started her walk of shame up the stairs to her bedroom.


In a fit of rage, Hermione apparated back to her bedroom. She landed on the bed and punched her pillow angrily. Fleur, who had been asleep since midnight, stirred at the sudden weight on her bed.

"Is she home?" Fleur mumbled sleepily, and Hermione let out a groan. She thew her head back onto the pillow and drilled her gaze into the ceiling adored with a starry night.

"She is. We'll punish her in the morning, I'm too tired to deal with teenage shenanigans tonight."

"Mmm, whatever you say, mon amor," Fleur mumbled, wrapping herself around Hermione and kissing her on the cheek.

Hermione relaxed within her wife's warm embrace, and let Fleur sleepily kiss and nuzzle her.


The next morning, the croaking of Phineas made Louis stir. The boy was still drained from the quidditch match yesterday, still happy that the French had won. Smiling at the fresh memory, Louis let the morning sun's ray brush against his closed eyes while he rand scratched the side of his head. Phineas, sitting in his tank, was croaking at his owner for crickets.

"Later, Phin," Louis groaned, slowly pushing himself up and opening his eyes. It took a second for his pupils to get back to normal.

Louis's room consisted of his bed with blue sheets and a desk in the corner with his muggle computer. There was a bookcase and his broomstick in the corner, with a shelf for Phineas and pictures of his family on certain holidays. The boy threw his legs over his bed and ran a hand through his two-toned hair again. Mornings weren't particularly his thing. His bedroom looked out over the trees and the backyard.

Checking the small Dalmatian clock on his circular bedside table, Louis caught the time as 10:30. With a groan, Louis resisted the urge to flop back onto his bed, but he knew he would have to get up and go about his day.

Louis trudged down the stairs mindlessly, as he did everyday when he was home. In his black top and white pyjama pants, he hopped off the final stepp onto the floorboards and shuffled to the kitchen.

"You did what?!"

Louis snapped out of his trance at the anger of his mother's voice. Louis peered around the corridor and into the living room. Victoire was sitting on the couch, her head was hung and she was twiddling her thumbs as Fleur and Hermione stood over her. Fleur's fists were clenched and her knuckles were as white as the snow outside, and Hermione had her arms crossed with a gaze so sharp that Louis could practically see it.

"I said I was sorry to mum last night, Maman," was Victoire's weak reply. Louis raised an eyebrow: Victoire was always well-behaved when she went out, so what did she do?

"How could you lose track of time?! How in the name of the sirens did you not even consider to tell us?! You 'ave countless methods of communication at your fingertips!"

Hearing the accent get thicker meant that she was angry, and Lous sent sympathy to his older sibling, then walked back into the kitchen to get his morning drink and toast.

"I-I-I just had too much to drink and lost track of the time, is all…"

"Is all?! Is all?!" Hermione repeated her daughter's words in a shrill voice, and Louis winced in pain. He was so luck that wasn't him in the living room.

"Victoire, you had us worried sick! London under ze moon is a dangerous place for a young girl!"

"Maman, I don't know how any times I can apologise!" Victoire pleaded.

"Zis will be enough," Fleur's tone was pointed, and the icicle's outside looked like melted wax candles compared to it.

"Victoire, I cannot excuse you for your behaviour of breaking our curfew."

"But-"

"I understand it was a way to cope with what happened with Teddy, but honestly, it was a horrible decision. Young Veela and alcohol do not mix."

Louis frowned while he made his toast to go with his hot chocolate.

"It actually links back to communicating with us. You should have told your mother straight away," Hermione's voice came back. Louis frowned; they were being so harsh! Why is that?

"I ripped the back of my boyfriend's shirt and nearly sucked his entire face off! How else was I supposed to react?!"

"By telling us what had happened,"

There was a 'crack' from the living room, and Louis jumped.

"'Ermione, you really need to start controlling yourself, mon amor,"

"That is for later."

"Typical mum," Louis thought before sat down at the dining table with his toast and milk drink. Hermione had a stash of lightbulbs to replace the ones she broke.

"D'acour. This is what is going to happen."

"Time for the big reveal,"

"Victoire, you and I are going of have a talk in my study about your Veela. Just the two of us," Fleur started in a serious tone, then Hermione took over in a calmer voice, but there was an undertone of anger.

"For coming home two hours after the curfew, we are going to ground you for two weeks. No going out to see friends, no friends coming over and no Teddy."

"What?! Why?!"

"You need to give him space; every Veela does when this sort of thing happens. I avoided Hermione for three weeks after she first met my Veela,"

"But-"

"No 'buts,' unless you want to us to cancel your Hogsmeade visits."

Victoire fell silent at once. Louis really felt for his sister, thinking the punishment would be was far too drastic. They only had two weeks left before returning to Hogwarts, so poor Victoire was going to be stuck at home for the remainder of the holidays.

"Now, go have a drink, clear your head, and meet me in my study in half and hour, Tu me comprends?"

Shortly after that, Victoire entered the kitchen. She looked rather pale with large bags under her eyes and her hair was dishevelled.

"They were savage," Louis couldn't help but remark as his oldest sister peered through the cabinets to find her favourite coffee. She shot him a look of fury, and his raised his free hand gently,

"Just an observation."


Dominique did not come down from her room until lunchtime. When she entered the living room, she down Hermione reading a book and Louis on his computer.

"Hey, Dom," Louis greeted her without looking up from the screen. The older brunette greeted her daughter with a smile as the pierced witch sat on one of the other armchairs and crossed her legs.

"How are you today, darling?"

"Okay," Dom responded, fondling with her hair awkwardly.

"Where's Maman and Vic?"

"Have a discussion about Veela things in Maman's study," Louis answered absentmindedly. The brunette raised an eyebrow while the heating enchantments strengthened.

"She had a small incident last night," her younger brother continued, and Hermione let out a sigh and looked at the boy over the top of her book.

"I think your sister understands, Louis," her voice had an edge to it, and Louis apologised, still not looking up from the screen.

"Oh, Dominique. While you're here," Hermione turned to her daughter and sent a letter from the coffee table over to the girl with a flick of her wand.

"Seamus responded to my letter."

Dom froze as the letter landed in her lap. She felt her blood run cold and visibly paled while she scanned the letter in trembling fingers.

"Bernadette's coming over tomorrow?!"

"Yes, at 11am,"

"Mum, I'm not 5, you don't have to organise play-dates for me!"

"Well you don't seem to do them yourself."

"Ouch," Louis whispered. Dom was just about to whack him over the head, but Hermione continued to talk.

"You two can go into town and explore, or maybe show her your music collection? Seamus is coming over, too, for a catch up after all these years."

Dom could only gape with her eye twitching.

"It is only for a few hours, and it will be good for you. It might infuriate your sister, since she's grounded, but it doesn't matter."

"Thanks for telling everyone, mum," Victoire grumbled as she entered the room with Fleur behind her. The young blonde slumped onto the couch next to Louis, she was having one hell of a morning.

"That took a while,"

"You're too observant, Louis," Fleur grinned at her son while she made glided towards her wife and sat on the edge of the arm chair.

"Actually, while we're all here," Hermione gazed around; Louis and Victoire were sitting on the grey three-person couch, Dominique was curled up on a white armchair (still in shock from the letter,) and Fleur was next to her, beaming.

"Dominique, can you please join your siblings on the couch?" Hermione asked the middle child, who raised an eyebrow again.

"We're going to have a little chat, is all," Hermione sighed, her daughter's scepticism was inherited from her, after all.

"Fleur, love, let's move to the two-seater," Hermione looked at the quarter-Veela, who grinned brightly.

"As you wish, mon amour," Fleur answered, then scooped Hermione up into her arms and carried her over to the smaller grey couch opposite the three-seater. Hermione squeaked at first, but then rolled her eyes at her wife's actions, wrapping her arms around her neck with a grin. Their children chuckled as Fleur placed Hermione on the couch, before sitting down next to her. Hermione straightened up and noticed Louis was still staring at the screen.

"Louis, could you put your computer down?"

"Sure," Louis shut his laptop and put it on the coffee table. Fleur smiled as Hermione's fingers instinctively wrapped around her own.

"So," Hermione started, clearing her throat and looked at her children. From left to right sat Louis, Victoire and Dominique, all grinning at the affection the two women showed each other.

"I think it's best if we have another talk about…us."

"Us?" Louis looked puzzled, and Fleur gestured to them all with her free left arm.

"Oui, us, as in our family," she added. They had this conversation the year Victoire started Hogwarts. Before the children came back for the Christmas break, Fleur and Hermione had decided to bring it up again.

"Yes, our family," Hermione reinforced the Frenchwoman's point. The children sat quietly, listening. With a deep breath, Hermione started to fondle with her grey blouse awkwardly with her free right hand.

"You three all know us as Maman and Mum, because that is how we raised you," she began, swallowing hard.

"However, to others…"

"We are not a 'normal' family," Fleur used quotations on the word as she finished the sentence for her wife. Hermione nodded with a small smile,

"The most obvious 'abnormal' thing is your mother and me," Hermione gazed at Fleur, who smiled back affectionately.

"We are two women who love each other very much, although sometimes we don't act like it. We are also married, and have been for 17 years."

"Well, duh," Victoire responded, and Fleur turned her gaze to her eldest daughter. Victoire was sitting cross-legged in her green pyjama pants and a white shirt she wore for sleeping.

"While it is normal to us, it is…not as common to others out in the world."

"So?" Dominique shrugged.

"This is enough to make people judge you, just us as a family," Hermione answered, then closed her eyes and knotted her brow.

"Unfortunately, we live in a world that is very particular about bloodlines and heritage."

All three children tensed up at once; they had all gotten comments about being a 'filthy halfbreed' or a 'disgusting mutt.' Fleur, too, also became tense.

"I know there have been…issues…about this," Hermione looked directly and Dominique, who scoffed and folded her arms, looking away with a scowl.

"And it's not pleasant. Believe me, I know," Hermione started to pale as the words etched into her skin through torture started to burn. Hermione let go of Fleur's hand and rolled up her sleeve to show her children the mark Bellatrix Lestrange had left on her all those years ago.

"I am muggle-born, my parents have no magic. I have been bullied for this for years. Years," her voice died away at the expressions of horror on the young faces; all of them had seen the mark a number of times, but Hermione kept it hidden most of the time. Fleur wrapped an arm around her wife.

"And I am a Veela. Technically, i am only one quarter, but that means nothing to purebloods."

Louis bit his lip and awkwardly rubbed his knees. Fleur saw thing and continued speaking, but her gaze never left Louis.

"You all have Veela blood, my darlings. It is something you should be proud of,"

"Needless to say, people are going to judge you. There are pureblooded wizards who despise muggle-borns, half-bloods, Veelas and even other pure-bloods," Hermione continued with a strained voice.

"But," her tone became serious.

"That does not mean you have to react to every single bad comment that is made about you."

All three children let out groans and sighs. Victoire dropped her head, Dominique scowled and threw an arm up while Louis shifted his position while clapping a hand against his knee.

"Should've known it was coming back to this," Dominique muttered.

"Dom, those who insult you want you to react and get into trouble, you know this!" Hermione explained for the umpteenth time. Fleur looked at Louis and nodded.

"These pureblooded wizards like to see people like us get angry and attack, because it shows that you actually care about what they are saying."

"Malfoy's father did the same to me," Hermione explained, but gritted her teeth at the memories of Draco's taunting.

"Calling me a 'mudblood' and other derogatory terms to get a reaction is what he wanted. Marlene and Scorpius are just doing the same as their father, same with Parkinson's child."

"It hurts!" Dominique snapped back as her face turned hot. Victoire and Louis nodded in agreement.

"It's hard to act like we don't care, because we do. We really do," Victoire backed up her sister, her voice trembling slightly.

"Last night, I heard people calling me names and insulted all of us."

"It's the same during quidditch," Louis added to his sisters,

"Every time we play some smug-faced pureblood, they just look at us as if we're a pile of shit! They think we're disgusting mutts!"

"I know, I know," Fleur and Hermione tried to calm their children down. The two women could see the pain on their faces; Victoire visibly bit her lip, Dominique's eyes started to quiver and Louis looked down with his nose scrunched up.

"It's hard to ignore it, it really is. However, as a parent, I feel so much better that my child is able to be better than a pureblood by ignoring the insults than getting a message that says you're in detention for fighting with one."

"Okay, we will all try to hold back on wanting to punch Malfoy and Parkinson," Dominique sighed, and Fleur shot her a look.

"It's not exactly fun to send you howlers every time you get into a fight,"

"They had it coming," Dom muttered under her breath, and Fleur pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. Hermione cleared her throat and thought about her choice of words carefully.

"Here is what we are trying to say; yes, we are a strange family. Yes, your bloodlines are not pure and yes, the comments, insults and teasing hurts. It hurts a bloody lot. But, please, please please, try to be the better person for the future and don't react. Don't give them what they want, because you'll only encourage them."

"Do you understand, children?"

Victoire, Dominique and Louis all looked at each other, then nodded. it would be hard, though.

"I expect you to also help each other out. If you see your sibling being teased, reinforce the want to resist."

"I have an idea, mon amour," Fleur grinned at her wife, eyes twinkling in the light from the fireplace.

"Why don't you do what you did with Dominique, and offer a reward?"

Three pairs of ears perked up at this, and Hermione groaned and placed her forehead in her hands.

"Like what?"

"How about round two on the piercing or tattoo offer?" Dom suggested with gleaming eyes.

"Well, that can be your reward," Fleur nodded to the middle child. Victoire and Louis thought about it for a moment.

"As long as it's under 50 galleons, it's fine," Hermione added quickly. She could feel her purse whimpering already.


Lesson of the day: Don't talk shit about people's families, kids...Just don't be a bully, really.