Golden Haze, Act Three, Scene Three

AN: THIS IS NOT AS LONG AS I WANTED IT TO BE.

My mom is coming into town tomorrow and I desperately wanted to get something up and written before she rolled up and effectively took away my ability to write.

I'm sorry that this isn't getting updated as fast as it could be. I do try, but I'm under a ton of stress right now because of some financial stuff and until I sort out my finances, get EBT, potentially find a second job, I'm just going to be a giant stress case about money and that is not really conducive to my writing. I'm so sorry guys. L

Also: to the person who said that Bill was the traitor? What made you think that? Obviously there's more to this than meets the eye (hehehe) but I have never had him pegged as anything other than a good guy.

Music of the Story: The Ready Set + Metromony

Fleur Delacour had never seen Hermione Granger's patronus. They had had a passing conversation about their respective anti-dementor animals during class one day, when Fleur had introduced the concept of totem animals and what each animal might mean about the person who was casting such a spell. Hermione's was a river otter she had said in class that day, where Fleur's was a pearl kite. Both were representative of different aspects of themselves – which was the entire point of Fleur's lesson. Fleur had decided that it was not worth potentially embarrassing some of her students who could not perform such a complicated spell to ask for a demonstration from her students, and because of that, she had never gotten a chance to see what the river otter that Hermione had mentioned looked like.

As she saw Hermione's patronus now, bounding through the cornfields just outside of the Burrow, she felt her breath catch in her throat. The being was beautiful, so completely encased in Hermione's magic. Maybe it would come bearing news that Hermione's parents had seen reason and had kept her there for Christmas morning. Fleur had assumed Hermione had floo'ed back to the Weasleys when she did not arrive at Shell Cottage the night before. It had seemed so easy to believe then, but as their arrival had been greeted with questions of Hermione's whereabouts from the rest of the Weasleys and Harry, Fleur had found herself starting to grow worried.

To see Hermione's patronus now, a warning on its lips encased in Hermione's beautiful magic, however, brought a chill down her spine and a panicked feeling to her stomach.

The otter-shaped patronus approached and Fleur watched with wide eyes as Hermione's desperate and scared voice emerged from the otter's mouth. White knuckled hands rested at her sides, at rest until they could spring into motion, to maim, to kill any who dared threaten her mate.

Hermione had been captured by the very man they were trying to apprehend it seemed. He had been waiting for her somewhere, but Hermione, smart as she was, had been able to get a call for help out. Fleur felt pride in her mate swell within her.

She urged the otter to travel inside, to tell Harry Potter and Ronald and the others. She was not the only one who cared for Hermione, but she was going to be the one who rescued her lover.

(You should let me…) The veela, never far from her consciousness, whispered. Fleur had known it was coming, knew that she would be powerless to not accept the help, so freely offered. She was already thinking like the damn creature anyway, she might as well fully embrace it.

I was just going to ask. Fleur thought, her eyes closing. She knew that she should go back inside and tell the others where she was going, that she was off to do something stupid and potentially hazardous to her life – but there was a whispering voice in her mind that held her back. She was not ready to face such a confrontation with the Weasleys. For all they knew, she and Hermione still had that same relationship that they had had during Hermione's fourth year in school – when they all had far more pressing matters on their mind to worry about.

"Fleur," Harry Potter's voice came from just inside the doorway. Fleur could feel her fingernails cutting into palm, her hands were shaking. A wetness formed beneath them and Fleur bit her tongue. She had to stop doing that, letting the veela's powers manifest through clenched fists.

She turned to stare at the bespectacled boy with a weak (fake – you could do better) smile. It was the best she could muster. Her words took a moment to find their place in her mouth, carefully "Would you like to come along? I am going to fetch Draco Malfoy and then I am going to get Hermione." She didn't know why she asked him, she would rather act alone. She couldn't stand the idea of another rescuing Hermione – even though the rational and non-veela part of her brain knew that it was a far better idea to have back up.

Her voice felt strange in her ears, but Harry nodded slowly, offering his hand to Fleur and pulling her back into the house. Wordlessly, he pulled on his jacket and disappeared off into the well-lit kitchen for a moment before reappearing with a strip of gauze and a very worried-looking William. "For your hand," Harry said, passing her the gauze and indicating her hand with his head. She hadn't realized it was bleeding quite so much.

The veela sneered within her mind as she moved, carefully bandaging the wound and pulling on her cloak. She felt strange, standing next to Harry Potter, dressed in muggle attire while she was wearing more conventional wizarding clothing. Fleur was used to being the outspoken, occasional wearer of casual muggle garments, not the other way around. She supposed that in time she would figure out how to blend in better with muggles, but now was not that time.

"Don't do anything rash." William's hand rested on her shoulder for a few long moments before he let it go. Fleur knew better than to shy away from him when he was trying to be encouraging and cautioning at the same time. It was not really her thing to listen to William as it was – given that they had very different views and outlooks on life, but she did value his opinions.

Still, Fleur could not help the sneer that grew across her face as William mentioned caution. He did not understand. No one would understand, save those who shared the blood. That was why she needed Draco Malfoy.

Fleur tried to relax her angry expression, and succeeded only in softening it slightly. She would have to work on her play acting. It was not nearly as good as she wanted it to be. "Since when 'ave I ever listened to you?" she asked, finally able to smile sadly at William when he met her gaze with a knowing smile of his own.

William gave an elaborate shrug as if to point out to Fleur that was no reasoning with her. "At least I know you're stubborn enough to pull off a rescue mission on your own."

Fleur scoffed. "I would not let anyone else do it."

Harry zipped up his coat and shoved his hands into his pockets, staring from William to Fleur and back again. His expression was carefully neutral, but Fleur could see the confusion at the corners of his eyes. He was too young to really understand such conversations, with their many layers and double meanings. "Why do you want to get Draco?" His question was valid, Fleur supposed. It highlighted just how little the savior of the wizarding world really knew about her kind.

Fleur sighed. This was a part of herself that she did not like explaining to others. She did not want to be seen as a specimen, but rather as a person and explaining it always seemed to dehumanize her in some way. She did not want to seem as though her need to run off without a plan to rescue Hermione was anything other than a human impulse. The veela was cunning, but when its mate was involved it was the most irrational of all beings. She could not resist the pull of that irrationality, and she felt terrified that she would not do enough to save Hermione and that it would somehow displease her mate. That, at least, was a purely veela worry.

She chose her words carefully, considering how best to make her point without revealing too much about herself in one breath. "'e knows 'ow to control the impulses. I am not entirely 'uman." She winced. It always hurt to say it, even if it was true. "I want 'im there as a precaution."

It was strange, she mused as she watched Harry digest the information she'd given her. The one thing that she hated the most about herself was the one thing that had brought her the most happiness. Hermione had become her world since Halloween, and Fleur had not realized just how vital their bond was to her sanity and feelings of self-worth until she was gone completely.

Harry bit his lip. "Couldn't you just… teach me the signs?"

Fleur laughed, the sound harsh and humorless. It was a biting sound, full of fear rather than actual amusement. "It would not work, you are not completely immune."

Harry flushed. "I do try."

She shrugged her shoulders at him; there was really little else that she could do. He was obviously enamored with Ginny, but he was also a man and he could not help looking. Better than most, but not completely immune. She reached out, bandaged hand open as she watched William move to go back into the kitchen and the rest of the Weasley family. "What is Ronald going to do?" She watched with narrowed eyes as William glanced towards the door.

"He had a hunch and wanted to look into it here." Harry supplied.

Fleur nodded. "I know that it is not best that I am going off to rescue 'ermione, but I cannot not act. I must do something." She exhaled, eyes shining, close to tears. Her emotions were tinged with desperation and terror. Hermione was gone, she had to rescue her. "William, will you look for information on your end, and give your mother my regrets?"

William rubbed the back of his neck, not meeting her eyes. "She'll be upset."

Fleur crossed her hands angrily across her chest. Christmas was not the same without everyone together, it would not be worth having. Mrs. Weasley would understand, when she finally knew. While her English was not so good that she could regularly employ sarcasm, she found herself speaking it effortlessly. "Say we are getting a divorce, it will be the best present she 'as ever gotten."

William balked and Harry looked from him to Fleur and back again in quick succession, confusion clearly written across his face. "You know I can't."

"We already are." Fleur raised her eyebrows to make her point.

William shrugged, "Don't push it, Fleur." He turned to leave and asked over his shoulder. "I'll see you tonight?"

Fleur looked down at her bandaged hand. "Perhaps. I intend to get her back and quickly." She looked up, her eyes resolute and her jaw set. "'arry will be of assistance, and Draco as well."

William nodded and waved them off. Fleur turned and pulled open the front door and stepped out into the biting cold. She shivered and hastily cast a warming spell around herself as Harry pulled the door closed behind him. He had pulled a knit cap on over his head which succeeded in making him look as adorable as an eighteen year old could. He scowled as she stood in the yard, staring off into the distance. "You realize I don't get on with him right?"

Fleur shrugged. "You are getting better," she said, stepping forward, magical energy gathering around her as she prepared to apparate. "Come."

Harry grumbled, but followed her example and the two of them vanished into nothingness and the crisp winter morning.

It was strange, going to a place that Fleur had nothing but bad memories to associate with to seek out someone good. She was not sure how she was going to react, faced with the memories of how Hermione had been hurt during the war in this place. As the austere white walls swam into vision before her, Fleur felt her fists clench once again.

She could never forgive what had happened to Hermione during the war. She had done everything she could for Hermione then, but she saw how the nightmares still plagued the girl she loved so much. She was grateful that Bellatrix LeStrange had perished during the war, as she did not think she would be able to stomach the idea that such a being who had hurt Hermione so deeply still walked this earth.

(This place still stands, a true veela would raise it.) The veela's voice purred in her mind. Fleur pushed away the thoughts and tried to be as resolute as possible. She was not going to let this get to her. She had to get Draco Malfoy and then leave this place, hopefully to never return again.

Harry's face was drawn into a tight and closed-off expression as they walked up the graveled drive to a pair of ornate-looking black gates. Fleur paused, as was custom at the edge of a strong set of warding spells, and waiting, shivering in the cold, for the gate attendant to bare them entry.

"I've never come here invited," Harry intoned quietly, his hands still shoved deep into his pockets. He glanced around, his breath forming fog in the air around his mouth. "This place is horrible."

Fleur nodded, holding her tongue. She did not trust herself to comment.

After another long and drawn-out moment of waiting, a house elf wearing a pillowcase and an apron appeared before them on the other side of the gate. Fleur smiled brightly at it, knowing that it would see right through her human blood straight to the veela. That was the charm of house elves; they were fantastic natural defense mechanisms against unwanted intruders, because their abilities and unique magic made them particularly sensitive to those of mixed and magical creature heritage.

She spoke clearly and evenly when the young elf acknowledged her. Politeness got you a lot farther in polite wizarding society than rudeness did and Fleur was nothing if not a charmer herself. Still, as she spoke, she felt fake. This was just another mask she donned, another face that was so unlike who she really was. "I would like to speak to the lord of the 'ouse."

The elf looked uncomfortable. "He is not being here," The elf had a high and reedy voice, but obviously understood Fleur's intent. "But Master Draco is."

Fleur smiled politely, inclining her head in the affirmative. Some language was universal. "That is to whom I was referring, young elf."

"I was meaning no offense, beautiful one." The elf looked a little chest-fallen, but nodded once more. "I will get him."

"Merci," Fleur said, and the elf vanished. "I feel terribly rude, intruding on Christmas," she admitted quietly.

Harry shrugged, "The circumstances are such that I think it's fine."

Fleur nodded, "This is true, but I shall 'ave to find some way to make it up to Madame Malfoy for taking her son away from her on such a day."

He looked down at his shoes, looking uncomfortable. He had opened his mouth to say something when the voice of Draco Malfoy rang clear across the courtyard on the other side of the gate. He emerged from the large and ornate-looking doorway while still in the process of fastening his cloak, the elf following after him protesting loudly that he needed a hat and at least an under jacket. "What are you doing here?" Draco demanded, waving the elf off and drawing level with them.

It was strange, to see him in a context outside of school or trying to have a low-profile. There was nothing about him now that indicated that he was at all uncomfortable with his own identity. He looked every bit the rich boy that they all knew him to be. Fleur threw away what little pride she had left and began to speak. "I need your 'elp. 'ermione 'as been taken by Jones and 'is cohorts. She was taken by force and there is a good chance they will 'urt 'er."

Draco's cloak fell open and it was suddenly very apparent why the elf had suggested that he be wearing an undercoat – as his thin linen shirt was now the only thing that guarded him from the elements. He looked genuinely surprised and that was also reflected in his tone when he spoke. "What? How the bloody-"

Fleur hung her head, shame burning across her cheeks. She should have known, she should have been able to prevent this from happening. Why, why in Merlin's name, didn't she go with Hermione last night? They were going to meet up afterwards at Shell Cottage anyway. She'd assumed so much when Hermione did not return last night.

She was the fool.

"I do not know either," Fleur said quietly.

Harry placed a reassuring hand on her back and she turned and gave him a weak smile. He spoke quietly, more to her than to Draco. "But we're going to get her back."

Draco nodded curtly, stepping through the gates as though they were not there. He pulled out his wand and muttered, "Accio sweater." As he waited for the summoning charm to deliver his sweater, Draco frowned. "Seems odd that you should be leading the rescue mission, Delacour," His tone was mild and not at all accusing, unlike how it had been in their previous encounters when they had discussed Hermione. Fleur noticed it, and her eyes narrowed at his next question: "Why do you even need me?"

She felt threatened, predatory and as the summoning spell delivered Dracos sweater, she raised her eyebrows at him and threw caution into the wind. He would not tell her secret, she would make sure of that if it proved to be an issue. "'ave you not figured it out yet?" She faltered, her throat suddenly feeling as though it had a large lump in it. She held up her hand, fingers lengthening as if on cue. As her fingers folded neatly together into the wicked-looking claws of her veela heritage, Fleur found her voice once again. "I have to save 'er. She is mine."

Draco refastened his cloak, looking a lot warmer now. He turned his steely eyes towards Harry and demanded. "Potter did you know?"

"Of course." Had the situation been any less dire, Fleur would have rolled her eyes.

"Figures," Draco muttered, turning back to Fleur. "Well, why do you need me then? You're the one who decided to bond with someone while you were married."

With his tone came all the scorn and indignation of an entire country of wizards who had no idea what it was like to be as much of a veela as she was, to feel the impulses and the need to do something, anything, to make the aching want of the mate vanish. She sighed quietly, not looking at any one thing in particular and found herself quietly recounting the tale of why, exactly, it was that she had married William Weasley.

Draco listened quietly, asking questions when it seemed prudent, but generally keeping his comments to himself. Fleur was grateful that he was not being an arse about it, but knew that that could change at any moment. She just hoped that when he fully understood, he would find cause to at least be supportive of the idea.

"You need be because I know how to control veela?" Draco's eyebrows rose up his forehead as he spoke, "I don't know who told you that, but I don't know the first thing-"

Fleur shook her head violently. "I do not care that you do not know, all I need is a person who is immune to it. The thrall or whatever the researchers are calling veela allure nowadays." She exhaled, "As you are male, and at least a fraction veela, you will do."

He looked almost out, but Fleur did not give him a chance to speak again. She could feel something coming from the bond that she and Hermione shared. Stretched as it now over many miles and countless wards, Fleur could still feel her terror and desperation. She had to save her, Hermione did not deserve to go through such an ordeal again.

All of a sudden a building swam before her mind's eye, blinking in and out of existence. She recognized it, a large brick building in London and not that far away from the Ministry's employee entrance. Hermione? She thought, shaking her head to clear her vision.

(Clever girl.)

"Come, we must leave this place, I 'ave an idea where she is." Fleur stepped forward, snow crunching quietly under her shoes as she turned to head away from the gates and to the edge of the anti-apparation field.

From behind her, she could hear Draco still trying to process the information she had just revealed to him. His tone was not at all judgmental, more disbelieving. "No, seriously, Granger's a lesbian?"

Harry sighed loudly and dramatically. "Why does that bother you so much, Malfoy?" He asked, "You're not exactly straight and an arrow yourself."

Draco's voice became quiet. "No one needs to know that."

"You hardly hide it." Harry laughed. There was a sound like a hand hitting several layers of clothing and Fleur turned around to see Harry clap Draco on the back in what could have been construed as a friendly and casual gesture, had they not been bitter rivals and former enemies.

Not it was just… weird.

"Still, I had no idea." Draco intoned.

Harry nodded, "I don't think anyone did." After a moment's long silence, he added, "Please keep it to yourself."

Fleur smiled, staring up at the noontime sun. "We are going to all go together," she said when they reached the edge of the anti-apparation wards.

"Do you know where to go?" Harry demanded.

Fleur smiled privately, unwilling to reveal the last detail of her relationship with Hermione at this point in time. The bonding could wait until after everything was completely sorted out. It was not worth stirring anything up that did not need to be brought to the surface just yet. "I have an idea," she said, holding out her hand.

They both reached forward and Fleur allowed her magic to pull her away on the breath of the wind, taking her towards the place she had seen in her mind.