A/N: Thanks to all those who have reviewed, followed, and favorited this story. I'm glad that people have been enjoying it. And a special thanks to Bonnie and Mainsail for beta reading this and thus improving on the original. If you have questions or concerns about what's going on, feel free to include them in a review or a PM — I'll try to answer.

A/N 2: I'm rather fond of the final scene in this chapter — I hope you like it too.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, JK Rowling does.

Recommendation: This chapter's recommended fic is "The Cupboard Under the Stairs" by Stargon1. Harry has been taken out of the cupboard, but that doesn't mean that it's stopped affecting him. This is the first in a series of reimagined Harry Potter books, and it looks like the author intends to go through them all. Enjoyable and worth reading. Eventual H/Hr.

Italics: a person's thoughts.


Chapter 07 - Moi... Lolita

Tuesday, August 3, 1995. Morning.

It was a very weary Albus Dumbledore that floo'd into Grimmauld Place the next morning. He'd been a politician of one sort or another for decades, and while he never truly enjoyed politics for its own sake, he had never before hated politics — and politicians — as much as he did just then. He'd had to spend all day yesterday and half the night at the Ministry trying to accomplish something that should have been simple and just, yet was contrary to the goals of some powerful people.

And he still wasn't very optimistic that matters would work out the way he wanted. The law will be on our side, he thought, but it was on my side yesterday, and despite all my experience and influence, I was only just barely able to achieve anything. What is becoming of us when having the law on one's side can mean so little?

He was brought up short and actually stopped halfway to the kitchen when he realized that it was exactly this sort of thing which had been causing Jasmine Potter to consider abandoning Britain. He slumped a little at the thought that far from being good news, the information he had to convey might only fuel the apathy and distrust which Arthur told him she'd expressed the day before.

We still need her to defeat Tom, he thought, not to mention become one of the leaders of our world for the coming century, but it will be harder to convince her to stay when I actually agree with her complaints! I'm simply going to have to come up with much better reasons for her to stay, if her desire to leave starts to grow serious.

Dumbledore took a moment to gather himself, then strode into the kitchen as if nothing were amiss — though if anyone were paying close attention, they might have noticed that he sat rather heavily in his chair and still had more than a bit of weariness around his eyes.

He greeted everyone jovially, though, and accepted a cup of tea from Mrs. Weasley while politely declining her offer of a full breakfast. Several of those seated around the table were looking at him expectantly, but he noticed that both of the two young witches he had come to talk about were directing rather cold expressions at him.

"What's the word on our daughter and Jasmine?" Lindsey prompted.

"I've managed to get them to put off an immediate expulsion," Dumbledore answered. "It was much more difficult than I had expected. On the 13th there will be a hearing about their use of magic, and that comes with a risk of expulsion, but the law is firmly on their side."

"What do we need to do to prepare?" Emma asked. "Do we need a barrister? I'm not sure how we'd even go about getting a magical barrister..."

"I will take care of representing their interests at the hearing," Dumbledore promised them. "I may not be Chief Warlock anymore, but I still have some influence left and quite a bit more knowledge of the law than most. I will do all I can to defend them." That reassured the elder Grangers somewhat, though not nearly as much as he had hoped, and it didn't seem to impress the two young witches at all. This suggested that Miss Potter and Miss Granger's distrust had been extended to the Granger parents, which wasn't encouraging.

"I'd invite you to come as well," Dumbledore continued, "but muggles are only very rarely permitted in the Ministry of Magic. An old discriminatory practice that I've never been able to get changed, I'm afraid." Perhaps such efforts would help them see him more as an ally?

The Grangers frowned but nodded. "Why aren't you Chief Warlock anymore?" Lindsey asked.

"Our Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, has been pushing a political and social campaign against me," Dumbledore explained. "He believes me to be a threat to him, his power, and the Ministry as a whole. About a week ago he had me removed from both that position and from my post as Supreme Mugwump of the ICW. Fortunately he cannot remove me as Headmaster of Hogwarts — at least, not yet. I'm certain that he's working on that as well. He also hasn't managed to get my chocolate frog card recalled." The last was said with a slight smile, though few returned it.

"And it's not just Dumbledore who's being targeted," Arthur added after a moment. "Fudge is behind the articles in the Daily Prophet that are attacking Jasmine, too."

"Articles?" Jasmine asked in confusion.

"Attacks?" Hermione said sharply at the same time.

"Oh, right," Sirius put in, somewhat abashed. "I meant to tell you about them, but so much has been happening. I've got a stack of back issues of the Daily Prophet to show you later. Suffice it to say, your name keeps coming up in various articles and editorials, and never in a good way."

"It started small," Arthur said, "but the animosity has been growing steadily. Almost every day, in fact. Now there's hardly a single page without some sort of snide reference to one or both of you."

"And I'll bet lots of people in magical Britain are starting to believe it, aren't they?" Hermione asked. No one said anything, but the embarrassed expressions on several faces were answer enough.

"Second year all over again," Jasmine muttered as Hermione gave her shoulder a squeeze.

"Before I forget," Dumbledore said to Hermione in an effort to change the topic, "I owe you and your parents an apology. Late last term I erected a few basic wards around your home — wards to alert me of magical trouble, to discourage anyone who might wish you harm, that sort of thing. I couldn't do anything elaborate because of the lack of ambient magic around muggle homes. I didn't know of any specific threats against you, but I wanted you to have at least some basic security. Unfortunately, I waited too long to check back, and the magic in the wards dissipated, leaving you without that protection. I am very, very sorry about that. Only the ward that I set to warn me about problems seems to have survived in any way, and even that didn't do as much good as it should have because not long after it went off, I was distracted by dealing with what was happening at Miss Potter's house. That delayed my sending help to you."

The young witch's expression had darkened as he confessed his lapse, and she looked like she was about to say something, but then apparently thought better of it. Her eyes looked a bit haunted when she finally did speak.

"That's alright, Professor Dumbledore," she said, "I appreciate that you tried. And you did help, I think, because shortly before they entered the house I heard what I thought was a distant gong sounding. It made me suspicious, so I drew my wand and still had it out when they attacked. If I hadn't had it out, they'd have taken me down immediately. You gave me a fighting chance, and I appreciate that."

Dumbledore looked thoughtful at that news. "Yes, I think that must have been the alarm ward falling just after it notified me that there was a problem. I'm glad that it proved useful to you before it fell, but when I received the alert I wasn't even sure it was genuine, it was so weak."

"Speaking of wards," Jasmine said coolly, her eyes narrowing, "why didn't those vaunted blood wards keep the dementors out?"

Dumbledore sighed and removed his spectacles to rub at his eyes. "I'm afraid that they were far weaker than I had realized."

"Does that mean anyone could have gotten in to get her?" Sirius asked, obviously angry. "Even Death Eaters?"

"No, no," Dumbledore assured him. "Even at their weakest, they would have at least slowed, if not prevented, dark witches or wizards. No, dementors are... an unusual case. I've been trying to work out what happened ever since we picked Miss Potter up, and I finally remembered that no one knows if they are entirely sentient or feel emotions. If they were only looking to feed like any hungry animal, then the weakened blood wards would not have recognized them as having 'ill intent.' After all, they didn't have anything personal against Miss Potter or her relatives, though I know that's not comforting."

"I guess a rabid dog or hungry wolf would have been able to enter and harm me as well," Jasmine said. "What about the other wards you said you put up?"

"Before I put wards around Miss Granger's house, I reinforced the wards at your relatives' home, Miss Potter. One of the most important things I did was bolster the protections against you being found magically, or indeed in any fashion by anyone magical. That's one of the primary functions of the blood wards and why they were so successful in protecting you before you came to Hogwarts. Given the increased danger to you, I wanted to ensure that you continued to be as safe now as you were then."

"That's why I didn't get any mail this summer, isn't it?" Jasmine asked, her anger unmistakable.

Dumbledore nodded. "I'm afraid so — I didn't want to introduce any weaknesses into your protections that your enemies might have been able to exploit. Some things were blocked entirely, others redirected. Normally that would have prevented even non-sentient magical creatures from locating you. However, if someone else was involved — someone with the ability to find you, but who didn't intend to actually seek you out..."

"Because magic is all about intent," Hermione interrupted.

"Indeed, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said. "You can see now the flaw that I inadvertently allowed to develop. One malicious person who did not intend to contact Miss Potter or to do her any harm personally was able to discover her address — perhaps inside the Ministry, which of course has ancient and powerful magic at its disposal — then send along two creatures who bore Miss Potter no personal ill will... creatures able to slip through the weakened wards."

"And what about the other protections you said you put up?" Jasmine asked, sounding just slightly less angry now.

"After the time you'd been there so far this summer, the blood wards should have been in good shape," Dumbledore answered. "From what I could still detect before I left, though, it seems that they were not only growing ever weaker, but were in fact sapping the strength of some of the other wards in order to keep themselves active. In retrospect, I probably should have checked for that sooner."

"Why would that happen?" Hermione asked.

"I'm afraid I haven't come to any conclusions, Miss Granger. The blood-based protections should have remained strong so long as Miss Potter called that house her home," Dumbledore started, but Jasmine interrupted him.

"I haven't ever really considered it home," she informed him bitterly. "I've never, ever felt welcome or happy there. Honestly, ever since my first year, I've always thought of Hogwarts as my only real home. I even said as much to Ron and Hermione just before we left at the end of that year."

Dumbledore looked surprised. "Well, your loyalty to the school is quite commendable, and I suspect that played a role in the long, slow decline of the blood wards. I get the impression that there wasn't very much love in the household either, am I correct?"

Jasmine snorted derisively. "Not between me and the Dursleys. Not any, not ever. They hate me and I return the sentiment. I suppose they love each other, though with the way they act, I wouldn't want any part of love if that's all there was to it." Dumbledore closed his eyes in a moment of despair, so he didn't see the meaningful look Jasmine gave Hermione. Nor did he see the looks he was getting from the adults in the room.

"I can't imagine anyone ever thinking them fit enough to raise a hamster, never mind a child," Jasmine concluded.

Everyone was quiet for a few moments before Dumbledore decided that it might be best if he excused himself for a meeting at the Ministry in London. "Oh, we almost forgot," Hermione said to him as he was standing from his chair, "our friend Fleur Delacour is in London. She arrived last night and is looking for a job. We'd like to invite her over — to visit, at least, if not stay — and Sirius is fine with it, but he said that she'd need to get the secret from you first."

Dumbledore frowned slightly. Although he had nothing against veela personally, their allure was well-known for the problems it created, none of which they could afford to have at the headquarters of the fight against Voldemort.

"Although Miss Delacour proved herself to be a capable champion," Dumbledore responded carefully, "and I'm sure that she is a fine young witch, I'd prefer that as few people as possible know about this location. Those told the secret cannot spread it, but the more who know about it, the more likely it is that the enemy will learn that a hidden location exists, and that would complicate our security. The Fidelius charm is not perfect, and we shouldn't act as though it were."

"I understand, Professor," Jasmine said with strained politeness, "but I've trusted Fleur with my life and would do so again. Either of us could have seriously harmed or killed the other during the second and third tasks, but we didn't. We worked together and we protected each other. I owe her a lot."

"Also," Hermione chimed in, "my parents and I spent time with her and her family while we were in France. They went so far as to provide security for us while we were there, without our even asking. I'm completely convinced that we can trust her to stand with us and fight if something happens."

"That makes her knowing the secret an asset, not a liability, doesn't it?" Sirius asked.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows slightly at this news. He hadn't realized that they were all close enough to generate this sort of impassioned plea — he had assumed that their relationship was more casual than that. I'd rather not introduce the complications of veela allure to this house, he considered, but if she can hold it in sufficiently, then it would be a relatively minor concession. They are clearly upset with me, and just saying no will surely make things worse between us.

"But what of you, Sirius?" he asked. "She might have a problem sharing a house with a man she believes to be an escaped murderer."

"She was there when we brought in Pettigrew," Jasmine pointed out. "So she knows the truth, even if Sirius hasn't been formally cleared."

"Ah, yes, I'd forgotten about that," Dumbledore conceded.

"She certainly isn't fond of our Ministry, given its discrimination against veela," Hermione added, "so she'd not likely take their side against us."

Dumbledore stroked his beard for a moment, then nodded gravely. "I can see the wisdom in your words, Miss Potter and Miss Granger. You make a good point too, Sirius. I will ask Alastor to meet her — where is she?"

"She's staying at the Leaky Cauldron," Hermione said.

"Alright, I'll have him meet her in the Leaky Cauldron and bring her here," Dumbledore continued. "Just don't take this to mean that I will agree to all of your school friends learning of this location." Both younger witches nodded in acceptance of that, and Hermione immediately got to work on a letter to let Fleur know what was planned.

After that, she decided to act on Dumbledore's inadvertent reminder and started working on short letters to all their friends, letting them know that she was with Jasmine now, what had happened in the attacks, and how they were required to attend a hearing in the Ministry about their use of magic outside of school — a hearing which might see them expelled from Hogwarts entirely.


Tuesday, August 3, 1995. Noon.

Dumbledore returned to headquarters for lunch because he wanted to be there when Fleur Delacour arrived. He had never really gotten to know her personally, and if she was close to Jasmine Potter, he thought he should probably rectify that. It would also allow him to gauge how her allure might affect others in the house, giving him a chance to act quickly if it got too bad.

The first thing he noticed after she entered with Mad-Eye Moody was how warm and sincere her hugs were with everyone, including the elder Grangers. If I'm not mistaken, there is a lot of genuine affection there, he thought. The witches in particular all act like they've been close for years rather than merely acquainted for a few months. Could it be something about the veela nature or veela allure that's encouraging the development of such fast friendships? No, that's unlikely — if that sort of thing happened, I'm sure I'd have read about it. There must be something else going on...

The second thing he noticed was the way she moved: it was more like an auror than a student. She's clearly had good defense training — and physical defense, too, not just with a wand. Looking over at Moody, he could tell that his old friend had noticed the same things and was treating her with the appropriate wariness. Coming from him, Dumbledore mused, that's quite a compliment.

"Intruders! Betrayers!" came a screeching voice from the hall as the curtains in front of Walburga Black's portrait flew open. Dumbledore winced as she continued, "Blood Traitors, Mudbloods, and half-breeds are defiling the home of the Ancient and Noble House of Black!"

"Sorry, sorry," Sirius mumbled in apology as he raced for the portrait.

"What's this?" Walburga demanded. "Who brought this foul creature in here? Kreacher! Attend me! Come clear out this filth before they defile our—" Sirius managed to shut the curtains before the diatribe could continue.

"I apologize for that," Sirius said more formally now to Fleur. "That harridan was my mother, and... well, she doesn't much like any of us." Fleur smiled in sympathy and shook Sirius' hand.

It was only when everyone was seated for lunch that Dumbledore realized that he hadn't detected any allure from her — nothing was affecting him or anyone else. How very interesting, he thought as he observed the others in the room carefully. I didn't see her much outside of meals while she was at Hogwarts, but I don't think her control was this good even then.

Fleur immediately asked the Grangers how they were holding up and what their plans were. When they admitted that they weren't sure what to do next because they had nowhere to go and didn't want to give up their business, she replied, "I wrote my mother after I read Hermione's letter. She may be able to offer you sanctuary in France — possibly even somewhere you can continue with your jobs."

"Really?" Emma asked, hope in her eyes but skepticism clear in her tone.

"Yes," Fleur said confidently. "Zere are veela enclaves all over, and many are close enough to muggle areas zat you can live very near to both. It should be possible to place you somewhere you can work as dentists."

Dumbledore listened to their discussion while observing the reactions of the young Weasleys to the veela witch. He noted that the twins kept sneaking glances at her, but they didn't appear to be overtly affected. The oldest, William, was giving her much longer, lingering looks that suggested interest, but he didn't seem to be mentally compromised. Ronald, in contrast... well, it was hard to tell with him. Maybe he was being affected by her allure, or maybe this was just how he was around very beautiful witches. I probably shouldn't give too much weight to his reactions, Dumbledore concluded.

"That... that would be amazing, if your family could help," Lindsey said. "We'd still have to talk about it, of course, because we honestly hadn't even considered something like that, but even just the possibility would ease our minds." Fleur nodded and smiled warmly at that.

Dumbledore's mind raced with the implications of her offer. He didn't know much about the internal politics of the veela, but he doubted that they'd offer to help just anyone relocate somewhere near a veela enclave, much less with their protection as well. This meant that the Granger family must have made a very, very good impression on them indeed. The veela were extremely insular and weren't known to go out of their way to help anyone, never mind muggles.

"What are your plans in Britain, Miss Delacour?" Dumbledore asked. The French champion was turning out to be much more interesting than he had imagined.

"Right now I am looking for a job," she answered. "I would like to improve my English and magical skills."

"Your English is already a lot better than when we first met," Hermione said.

"Thank you," Fleur responded carefully with a smile. "I have been practicing very hard."

"And what sort of job do you hope to get?" Dumbledore continued. "What were your test scores like?"

"I took ze French NEWTs after I returned from Hogwarts and received Outstandings in Charms, Transfiguration, Runes, Arithmancy, and Defense. I received E in Potions, and Acceptables in Astronomy, Herbology, and History." Dumbledore nodded, impressed by those scores — especially after having spent a year working on the tournament. "My strongest subjects were Defense and Charms," she continued, "zough Runes came close. I zought about working as an apprentice curse breaker, but I zink Gringotts would send me abroad, and I'd prefer to stay here for a few years."

The rest of the meal passed with an animated discussion about working in Britain, with comparisons of different jobs and how well a person really needed to do in school in order to pursue different careers. By the end, Dumbledore was more than satisfied that the young veela posed no danger to the household, so he got up to take his leave.

As he headed to the floo, Mad-Eye Moody stopped him in the hall. "Are you still looking for a Defense professor for the coming term?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said, then asked hopefully, "Have you reconsidered accepting my offer to actually be the one to teach this time?"

"Not a chance," Moody said with a scowl, "I'm needed too much on the outside, working against Death Eaters, not wiping noses and arses in your school. But I did want to suggest that you consider that Delacour witch."

Dumbledore frowned. "She strikes me as a bit young for such a position. She only just took her NEWTs, after all."

"Aye, the lass is young," Moody agreed, "but I was watching her carefully, and she's no wet-behind-the-ears naif. She's got skills and training — maybe not a lot of experience yet, but definitely skills and training. I could tell by the way she walked and how she looked around a room." Dumbledore nodded, having reached a similar conclusion himself.

"You don't think that her being a veela would cause problems?" Dumbledore asked, curious about the old auror's perspective.

"Depends on what you mean by problems," he answered. "If you're wondering about her accidentally bewitching the lads at school with her allure, I wouldn't worry about it. I've been keeping an eye on that, and she has it under control — better than most I've seen. If you're worried about others' negative reactions, well..." He shrugged. "There's not much you can do about that." Dumbledore nodded, remembering how many of his past choices had aroused the ire of this or that group.

"Besides," Moody continued, "she couldn't be worse than most of the mutts you've gotten for that post — Lupin excepted — and she's got to be better than whatever stooge the Ministry will saddle you with if you don't find someone. When's that deadline?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I have until the tenth of this month to find a suitable candidate for the post of Defense Professor or the Ministry will exercise its authority to choose for me."

Moody nodded curtly. "I suspect you could do a lot worse than her," he observed before turning around and stumping back into the kitchen. Dumbledore stood in front of the floo for some time, pondering his old friend's words.


Once Jasmine and Hermione had convinced Sirius to grant Fleur full access to the library — not an easy task, even with Jasmine fully deploying her puppy-dog eyes — the three witches spent the rest of the day there so they could research magical law in Britain. Their focus was, naturally, any and all laws dealing with underage magic and self-defense. Jasmine may have started out apathetic about the problem, but she wasn't going to let anyone take magic away from her or Hermione without a fight.

Sirius certainly understood the feeling — he himself was already thinking about alternatives, like how to get them out of the country if things went badly.

While adjusting the library's wards to admit Fleur, Sirius pointed out two portraits of Blacks who had worked in law and politics and who might be able to help. They were hanging on the back wall where they were largely out of sight, which explained why Jasmine and Hermione hadn't noticed them earlier.

When they asked about privacy and security, Sirius assured them once again that the portraits were all working in their best interests and were under orders not to disclose any secrets to anyone outside the family without Sirius' express permission. In order to placate them, however, he ordered the two library portraits not to reveal any of the girls' secrets to any person, not even to him, unless the girls gave their own permission.

Mrs. Weasley of course still wanted them to pitch in to help with the cleaning, but they successfully argued that they had to spend time preparing for their hearing — even though Dumbledore was representing them, they needed to know as much as possible so they could assist. The fact that Emma and Lindsey supported this decision certainly helped: the Grangers believed that one should avoid being completely reliant on a single person or strategy — something that Mrs. Weasley had trouble accepting, given her feelings about Albus Dumbledore, but eventually she relented.

First, though, she took Hermione aside and apologized for what she had done the previous Easter. Her children had taken her to task earlier in the summer for insulting Hermione on the basis of Skeeter's article, and when confronted with the truth, she felt mortified. The insult still stung Hermione a bit, but the older witch's apology was clearly sincere, so she accepted it so they could all move on.


Wednesday, August 4, 1995. Morning.

Albus Dumbledore noted everyone's surprise when he arrived for breakfast the following morning. It was unusual for him to join them two days in a row like that, but it was an unusual situation. He was glad to see that it was a smaller crowd than had been gathered around the kitchen table the day before — news would get around quickly enough, he was sure, but he didn't want to spend all morning answering questions.

Once he'd been given a cup of tea by Mrs. Weasley, he turned to the young witches who were lined up on one side of the long table and asked, "Miss Delacour? If you are still looking for a job, I might be able to help you, and in turn you'd be able to help me as well."

Dumbledore noted a very brief flash of suspicion on her face before she replied, "Oui, Headmaster, I have not found anything since yesterday."

He nodded and said, "I have yet to find someone to fill the position of Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, and it's getting quite a bit later than usual for me to still be without any qualified candidates. I'd like to offer you the position, and if you accept it will help both me and the school a great deal." Dumbledore watched as expressions of surprise, gratitude, and curiosity all passed across the young witch's face. He also noticed the identical grins that appeared on the Weasley twins' faces.

"Zat is... very generous. And surprising," she said slowly. "Why me, zough?"

Dumbledore smiled and said, "I'll be frank and admit that under normal circumstances I wouldn't consider someone as young and inexperienced as you, despite your obviously high qualifications. These are not normal circumstances, however. I have trouble every year finding someone to fill this position, and it seems that the task keeps getting harder and harder. If I don't find someone soon, the Ministry will exercise their authority to choose for me, and that is not something that I want to see happen, especially considering their recent propaganda campaign against both me and Miss Potter."

Dumbledore noted her frown when he mentioned the Ministry and was happy to see that she shared his concerns there. He leaned forward a bit to add, "Nevertheless, while you may not be the ideal candidate, you are by no means a poor candidate, and you are in fact better than some whom I've had to hire in the past." From somewhere down the table he heard a cough that sounded suspiciously like "Lockhart," but he chose to ignore it. That was not a decision he wanted to revisit. Ever.

"Oh, Albus," Molly Weasley fretted as she brought him some food, "are you sure about that? Do you really think it wise to let... I mean, won't you get a lot of complaints if someone like... you know, teaches at Hogwarts?" She gestured towards the now-scowling witch and whispered, "She's French!"

Dumbledore sighed. He'd been wondering what would cause the most grumbling: that she was young, that she was a veela, or simply that she was French. Maybe I should talk to the twins before I leave about setting up a betting pool?

"I don't deny that there will be complaints, especially due to her age and experience," he replied firmly to the older witch, trying to focus on the things that were actually relevant. "That said, Molly, I made a point of getting copies of her school records, and not only were her scores as good as she claimed yesterday, but she received glowing recommendations from all of her professors." Mrs. Weasley wilted slightly under his stern gaze before he returned his attention to the young veela in question. "Your age, nationality, and heritage are all reasons people will use to send me howlers, there's no denying it; but I'll get howlers regardless — it comes with my job and protecting you from them is my responsibility. Please don't let that dissuade you from accepting the position."

He didn't mention that her being French and veela came with potential advantages for him, too — namely, that hiring her might placate the French Ministry and veela leaders, at least a little bit. A year without them on my back would be nice, he thought. It might also win back some trust from Miss Potter and Miss Granger.

Remus Lupin chimed in to say, "If it will help in your decision, I still have all of my notes from when I taught that course. I can give them to you and answer any questions you may have. Over the next month, we can make sure you are well prepared." Dumbledore was surprised at the cool reception that offer received and wondered what the reasons might be.

Fleur sat in obvious thought for a bit while Dumbledore continued to calmly sip his tea. Everyone else at the table remained silent, waiting anxiously to hear the witch's answer. Truth be told, he was anxious, too, but he had long ago learned the value of maintaining at least a facade of calm serenity, whatever the situation.

Finally, she answered, "I am very interested, Headmaster, but I would have to read ze contract before giving you my final answer." Dumbledore nodded, accepting that as reasonable. "Also, I have one request which would make it easier for me to accept."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow in curiosity, and she continued, "I received a letter from home zis morning with information for ze Grangers about moving to France. In it, my maman mentioned that my cousin, Victoire, will not be able to help my sister Gabrielle for her first year at Beauxbatons. Zis is a problem because for younger veela going through maturation, it is much easier if zere eez an older veela nearby, preferably a relative. If Gabrielle were to attend Hogwarts as a fourth-year student, however, I could be close enough to help."

"I wasn't aware of that requirement," Dumbledore responded slowly.

Fleur shrugged. "It is not so much a requirement as just very helpful. I know zat I would have had a much harder time at Beauxbatons without another cousin of mine being zere to ask questions of, to talk to, zat sort of zing."

Dumbledore nodded slowly and said, "Yes, I can see where that might help, given the unusual magics of veela. I am concerned, though, about the effect your sister might have on the male students."

"Oh, zat should not be a problem," she replied with a smile. "In my family we learn to control ze allure very young. Zat is one reason why we are home-schooled for so long and only enter in our fourth year — to ensure that we have enough control zat we do not disrupt ze classes. I had some difficulty early on at Hogwarts because of ze cold, unfamiliar environment, but I quickly adapted and only had a couple of incidents. It should be easier for Gabrielle because she's already been zere and has spent much time with some of ze students already."

Dumbledore nodded again. "Very well, assuming that she takes the necessary entrance exams and that her scores are high enough, I will ensure that she joins the other fourth-years in September. I must caution you, however, that she is likely to face more than a little bit of prejudice. The staff will be taking a harder line on bullying than we did in the past, but however much I personally abhor prejudice against groups like the veela, I cannot completely eliminate it. You and she must both be prepared for that."

Fleur sat a bit straighter and said, "Zat will not be a problem, either. I can assure you zat neither of us are looking for special treatment because of our veela heritage. So long as ze rules are fair, we will both be fine."

Dumbledore smiled at hearing that and promised to have a contract sent over the next day. "If you sign it, I will receive a copy automatically and take that as your acceptance of the position. I just ask that you make your decision before the end of the day tomorrow so I can continue my search if necessary."

Fleur nodded, and after a few more pleasantries were exchanged Dumbledore returned to the castle to prepare an attractive contract. He was confident that she'd say yes, but he didn't want to lose her at the last minute because of a disagreement over contractual provisions.

Now, if she does accept, he wondered as he sat down at his desk, how do I tell Severus that a French veela witch who only just graduated got the job instead of him?


Wednesday, August 4, 1995. Afternoon.

Moving to France was a big step, but in the end it was hardly any decision at all. Emma and Lindsey Granger both loved France, and not just for the beaches. Many of their vacations had been spent in France, and that was also where they had gone for their honeymoon. They'd never thought it possible that they might be able to live and work there, so the offer to do so was incredibly attractive.

Added to that was the obvious fact that they'd be protected from the magical terrorists who were likely to soon become active in Britain. Terrorism of any sort was difficult enough to deal with, but by now it was all too clear that they had no way to protect themselves against magic. In France, however, they'd have the protection of other magical people.

So accepting the offer from Fleur's mother turned out to be the easy part. Figuring out how they'd move their most important possessions and how they'd be able to afford to hire replacement dentists until they could get jobs in France... that would be much harder.


Wednesday, August 4, 1995. Evening.

"So, spill," Tracey said as she sat cross-legged in her pyjamas on the bed. "What was so important that you practically demanded that I come sleep over tonight? Miss me that much?" The last was said with a cheeky grin that was born from years of teasing her best friend.

Daphne rolled her eyes, then after a moment's hesitation asked, "Did you, um, well... did you, you know, develop at all last term?"

"Develop?" Tracey asked, confused.

"Yeah, you know, physically," Daphne said.

"Oh, Merlin, yes!" Tracey said happily. She looked down at her chest and grabbed her breasts with both hands. "Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for these? I was afraid I'd never get them! And then this last term was the absolute worst because we spent so much time hanging around Susan — she's so lucky, I totally hate her."

When Tracey looked up, she noticed a very worried look on Daphne's face rather than the happy one she'd expected. "What's the matter, Daph?"

"Well," Daphne responded, "I... oh, for Merlin's sake, could you stop fondling yourself? I know you're happy to get them, but really!"

"Sorry," Tracey said with a grin as she let go of herself, clearly not the least bit remorseful.

"Anyway," Daphne said with an exasperated sigh, "I did, too. Develop that is."

"That's great!" Tracey said, reaching out to give her friend a congratulatory hug. When Daphne didn't move to return the hug, she dropped her arms in confusion. "That is great, right?"

"Yes and no," Daphne responded. "Do you remember when you began to develop?"

Tracey considered that. "Uh, it was late in the term. Very late, in fact. I remember thinking on the Hogwarts Express that I was glad that it didn't start until the very end because then I could be home when I needed to get new clothes. I didn't want to start busting out all over, y'know? Why?"

"The same was true of me," Daphne said. "I didn't really think about it until Astoria said something about how late in the term I changed. And how fast. Then I got to thinking about it and I realized that the timing was suspicious. So I wrote a couple of letters." Daphne reached under her pillow and pulled out several pieces of parchment. "Susan, Hannah, and Padma all report the same changes at the same time. Padma, of course, was able to pinpoint it fairly precisely: immediately after the Midsummer's Eve ritual. The next day, in fact. I think that something about the magic we experienced that night affected us."

Tracey sat there and gaped at her best friend. Then she looked down at her chest and grabbed her breasts again. "You mean, these are magical? I've got magical boobs?"

"Tracey! Focus! This isn't just about your boobs!" Daphne grated. This caused Tracey to look up and pout slightly before releasing her chest again. "We've all grown a little taller. We're all a little stronger. We've also all developed in our hips and chests."

"And this is from the ritual we all participated in?" Tracey asked. "Do you think Jasmine and Hermione knew it would happen?"

Daphne frowned for a moment, then said, "No, I really don't think so. They wouldn't have kept that from us."

"So maybe they're experiencing the same thing?" Tracey suggested. "They participated in a couple of more rituals and started earlier than us, so they would have had this happening to them over a longer period of time. They might not have even made the connection!"

Daphne nodded. "Good point. I'd like to ask them about it, but given the problems they've been having, I'd rather not risk saying anything in a letter. It was hard enough coming up with something vague to ask the others."

"We can just wait until the Hogwarts Express," Tracey said with a shrug. "One of the compartments should provide enough privacy."

"Maybe we can get everyone together then," Daphne suggested. "It'll be a tight fit, but it doesn't have to be for very long."

With that settled, Tracey pulled open her collar and peered down her nightshirt speculatively. "Do you think that if we do another holiday ritual, they'll grow even more?"

"Tracey!"