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Was it possible to be born a curse?

Fleur Delacour believed it not only possible, but a certainty. Fleur Delacour believed all Veela were born a curse on a world that worshiped loneliness and isolation.

And pure, unadulterated and absolutely mindless fear.

Fleur's memory was nearly eidetic, like all Veela before her, and she had the unfortunate memory of her own birth. She burst into tears, and she heard a spell uttered. Of course, she did not know what it was, but she quickly understood in time.

Out of necessity for everyone's survival, she had been silenced, and her tears swiftly captured and put away. Through careless conversations spoken where she could hear, and though she didn't immediately understand, by the time she learnt to comprehend languages, she fully understood.

She was a living weapon.

There was nothing good about that fact.

Though her father, a human, loved and cherished her, there was a state of alertness to him that he never let down for even a moment. Though he loved maman so fiercely and fearlessly, he maintained this same alertness. Perhaps it was without fear, but he could not have lived so long perhaps, had he been any less fleet of foot, or swift to action.

When she had been hurt by cuts or childhood injuries, only the Veela could intervene, and even so, it was done with utmost care.

Though these tears were far less potent, due to the different mixture of emotions involved, it was no less dangerous. Her birth tears were very carefully stored away, and the descriptions led her to regard them as the same quality as the muggle nuclear bombs.

"Papa?" said a nine-year old Fleur, keeping a tight rein on her emotions, because she was sitting on his lap.

"Yes my darling?" Sebastien Delacour gently combed her hair with a special brush.

"Maman is giving birth to my sister..." she looked towards the room that was deathly silent. The room in which she herself had been born in.

"Yes, she is. You understand, don't you, why we cannot be there?" asked Sebastien.

"I can be in there," said Fleur, "I know how to be careful...but I wanted to be here, with you."

To that, Sebastien pulled his daughter into a rare embrace, and she basked in it for a moment, but as her heart began to build in heaviness, for the question that she felt, she forced herself to pull away, and slid off his lap, retrieving a much-used vial, placing it near her face.

"I heard what Joaquin had said to you seven months, twenty-two days, three hours, ten minutes and fifty-five seconds ago. He called you a brave fool. And quite crazy." She turned to look at him intently, "I happen to agree with him. Were two deadly weapons in your household not enough? Now you have a third."

There was a pained look in Sebastien's face. He had no argument, and saying otherwise would be a lie that neither could credulously believe.

"You are my child, my precious Fleur," said Sebastien slowly, "and I will always love you. And yes, I do understand the...challenges, that comes with living with Veela. Despite the stigma, despite the fears many have, I hold all Veela in high regard. I know that it is not in any of your natures to use your gifts in the way that many think."

Fleur sighed, and closed her eyes, "But you are the only one, papa."

She did not want to hurt him further, so she never told him out loud that he was cursing Gabrielle Delacour to a life of hell.

A life she had been cursed with ahead of time.

Though Veela could not be harmed or affected by their own tears, they could harm each other.

So, when she saw her baby sister for the first time, vials floated around her, because, as expected, she began to cry, for what Gabrielle would soon endure. No Veela scolded her, certainly not her mother. It was a wonder that the race continued to exist, given what they could do to one another, and to others.

Aside from Sebastien, a true exception to the norm, no other being outside of the Veela knew the deep, desperate secret about Veela's tears, a highly-sought substance.

And despite their guarded nature, word of its abilities spread far and wide.

History was rife with countless attempts to discern for certain the exact nature, and Veela texts were themselves most deliberately vague and broad in their descriptions of just what Veela tears could ever do.

And it was Man's nature to fear the unknown.

The infamous Veela Allure soon showed itself a scant year later for Fleur. Sebastien literally had to vacate the home for weeks as her mother spoke to Fleur, and added to the great burden that the girl already bore.

"Th-this is something Gabrielle will have to deal with too?!" Flear was near to hysterics.

The life of a Veela was a lonely one.

It was miserable.

Like Fleur, Gabrielle quickly learned. Oh yes, how quickly she learned.

She was almost like a prodigy in how fast she picked up everything, even though Fleur possessed the same level of eidetic memory, it felt like she picked up on things far more quickly, and handled it with admirable aplomb. Perhaps it was because she had Fleur constantly by her side, or perhaps she was just built of sterner stuff than her older sister.

Whichever it was, Gabrielle seemed less miserable, but Fleur approved of this. If she could shield Gabrielle, however misguided a notion, she yearned that her sister would have whatever happiness that Fleur herself seemed doomed to never have.

"Fleur," said Apolline, on the last night before she would leave for Beauxbatons, "come, sit by my side a while."

Though reluctant, the eleven-year old complied, and carefully nestled against her mother.

"I know, dear," said Apolline, "I know you would much rather stay here. Better to live in isolation than to even risk seeing the fear and loathing...but, I know you're chafing."

With a sigh, Fleur nodded once, and rested her head on her mother's chest, listening to her heartbeats.

"We just simply cannot live so," Apolline stroked her hair gently, "and, you do know people can overcome that fear, but it is not possible if we do not make the first move and prove to them that we are not monsters like some would like to make others believe."

Again, Fleur gave a single nod.

"And...the truest friendships, can make a bond, that renders your more...aggressive tears harmless to them."

At this, Fleur shot up like a bullet.

"What?!"

"Don't get too excited, dear. There is a reason we have not spoken of this before."

Nodding, Fleur listened as her mother explained. "True friendships are born of love, and almost one and the same as the love shared between your father and I. But they are rare, and hard to attain."

"B-b-but papa...he is always so..."

"More a force of habit than necessity with me. After all, there are so many Veela in his household. It would not do for him to be complacent." she gestured to Fleur and added, "and this bond does not extend even to his own daughters until somewhat later."

Fleur understood then.

But it changed nothing from a sad, simple fact.

She was born a curse.

As she tried to sleep that night, she carelessly wet her pillows with her tears of anguish, sorrow and hopelessness. How could she have or forge bonds of friendship?

She felt tiny hands carelessly brushing away her tears. And she didn't think about it, just turning to let her baby sister of barely two help wipe away the droplets, until she came fully awake and gasped, letting out a strangled cry, when she realized just what had transpired.

Then she saw that Gabrielle was fine.

As seconds passed into minutes, she saw that not only was Gabrielle unharmed, but she was still wiping away the tears.

"Big sister don't cry." said Gabrielle simply.

The sisters had bonded and formed a deep understanding friendship.

She hugged Gabrielle, now crying tears of relief and joy.

She finally found a glimmer of hope.

She carried this newfound hope and confidence as she found herself before the biggest woman Fleur had ever seen.

"Hello, Miss Delacour." said Olympe Maxime in a even tone.

Giving a small curtsey, Fleur returned the greeting politely, "Hello, Headmistress Maxime."

She observed the tiny Veela before her and granted a tight smile, "Welcome to Beauxbatons. I expect great things from you."

Though she didn't mistake that tiny glint of fear, it was nice of Olympe not to point out her inherent deadliness, or even caution her about her interactions with other students. This bolstered her hope that life would change for the better now.

She was going to make long-lasting relationships, and life will be good.