Tell Me Your Secrets

by Ladyfun

Hermione and Fleur, post-war, find themselves in the unsettling role of colleagues with more than a bit of forbidden attraction towards one another, despite their obligations to others. One evening, courtesy of firewhiskey, they admit their repressed secrets and darkest desires, to one another. Problem is, one can't unring a bell, once rung...or the actions that result. Fleurmione!

17. Part III

Tell Me Your Secrets

Author: Ladyfun

Rating: M. Why? Because.

Summary: Hermione and Fleur, in the post-war world, find themselves in the unsettling role of colleagues with more than a bit of lingering and forbidden attraction towards one another, despite their obligations to others. One fateful evening, courtesy of the firewhiskey, they admit their repressed secrets and darkest desires, to one another. Problem is, one can't unring a bell, once rung...nor the actions that follow. Angsty Fleurmione!

Disclaimers: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its merchandising- all of this is in wholesome, non-profit fun. Ownership belongs to JK Rowling as everyone in the free world is aware. Will have some kinks in later chapters, disclaimers forthcoming as needed...

A/N: This is the end, my friend...as is my nature, we divert into randomness at the end. Thank you to the die hard reviewers - you know who you are. This might be my swan song, so thank you for reading this and my other works, 1 - you caught me. True dat. Thanks you to everyone who took the time to read, and especially to those who took the time to comment.. Thanks for the reviews, in no particular order:

Roselia Rose - hopefully all 10K of your questions were answered, I always look forward to your intelligent and hilarious commentary.
Cuccino2002-glad to provide the chills. You are my homegirl - take care womanly.
GISA103- people like you made me keep updating. thanks for all the encouragement
FufuTheFallenAngel-thanks for the reviews and I love your moniker
monkgirl - yes, I'm evil. you knew that already. -thanks for all the reviews
Lacie De Guzman- violence is not the answer. ;) thanks for gutting it out without an ER visit.
TJK78-Thank you thank you.
littledragonflyson-thank you for appreciating the breadth - people sometimes only want canon, and well, when someone notices and appreciates …I appreciate it.
Laura All Round- I won't tell anyone about the begging. Promise. What happens in Geek Club, stays in Geek club….
SL13-Yep. Cliffys R Us.
WolfDragonGod-Somehow I thought you might dig this. thanks for reading.
Leti2a-thanks for appreciating the Veela.
LA Bee123- one of the nicest reviews I've had. thank you.
Chaosrin - thank you for your steady influence.
Icy-Windbreeze- thanks for the reviews.

Finally, thank you to my twin flame-3,000 miles weren't enough...you are my muse. Perhaps someday you'll read.

Thank you, everyone else, who read this and my others...It was appreciated.

Okay, enough of that touchy feely crap, lets get on to the, well, the touchy feely crap. There is some slight incest (warning) kinda in the Elsanna flavor...avoid if this is squicky to you.

Chapter FIN. The Truth Shall Set You Free, Part III.

The Delacour-Granger Residence, Fideles' 1st Year, Paris.

Apollene gave Hermione a concerned look.

"Vat iz all sat banging, 'ermione?" She had arrived for her usual Sunday brunch with her daughter and her daughter-in-law.

Hermione, for her part, seemed relatively unconcerned. "Hmm," She said, cocking her ear to listen for the "banging" her Mother-In-Law referenced. "Ah, yes. That. Well, I think that is your eldest daughter, now throwing things at the left wall of her study, since she's already ruined the right wall, completely."

"Mon Dieu! Aren't you going to do some zing, 'ermione?" She asked, concerned.

Hermione gave her a blank look. "Such as, what?"

"Je ne sais pas...I don't know...go in zere, and stop zat nonsense, for one!"

Hermione laughed. "I'm not going in there for a million galleons, Maman! " She chuckled. "You, however, may feel free to do so. Please note, I gave my reservation towards that idea..in advance." Hermione had an amused look that she didn't bother disguising in the least, as she tied an apron around her sundress.

Apollene shook her head at the nonsense. "Please tell me zis Boule de folie is not still over Eva's decision to work in ze British Ministry, instead of ze Ministry in France..."

Hermione raised her eyebrows, saying nothing, her lips pursed tight.

"Merde!" Apollene remarked, appalled. "You must be keeding me, 'ermione! It 'as been over three days, now, since she told Fleur!"

"Mmmm."Hermione agreed, knowingly. "Indeed, it has, Apollene."

Apollene threw her hands up, in disgust. She and Hermione went into the kitchen together, to prepare their brunch. Apollene was muttering and swearing, intermittently, under her breath. "J'ai donné naissance à la folio..." She grumbled, to herself, when one of the sounds of breaking glass sounded particularly large. Looking at her daughter-in-law, and former law-enforcement partner, she groused, "Surely, she didn't zink there was a chance in 'ell zat Eva would leave England before Fidèles graduated from 'ogwarts, right?"

"One can dream, I suppose." Hermione replied. "But, no, I don't think she was...hm." Hermione mulled over her statement. "...realistic, no."

"Bordel de merde!" Apollene muttered. "Does ze insane Fleur not remember 'ow attached she waz, to her own sister, growing up?"

Hermione smiled. To herself, she mused, You have no idea just how attached they actually were, Apollene. Out loud, the Golden Girl merely replied, "I guess not."

As they began to dice the mushrooms, Apollene narrowed her eyes at Hermione, hands on her hips, holding the parring knife aloft. "My dear daughter...you do not remember zat I am a Master Occulmens, 'ermione?"

"Yes, why?" Hermione asked, thinking. Then, she realized. "Oh, Crap..." Hermione uttered. "..of course."

The Silver Fox raised her eyebrows, knowingly. "Do you really zink , 'ermione, zat anyzing escaped my notice, in my 'ouse, 'ermione? Please! Give me some credit."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. "Well, I..." she swallowed. "Wait! And you were...okay, with that? With them, specifically?"

Apollene shrugged her shoulders. "Really, what ozzer choice was sere?" Apollene's arms were gesturing, wildly. "Fleur was like, zis incandescent flame! In her prime, a woman larger zan life, and so unattainable...which only made her more desirable. Just...everyone wanted her, 'ermione..." Noting the look of jealousy on Fleur's mate, Apollene quickly added, "But no one interested 'er, until you, of course. Plus, she waz smart enough to realize sat zey just wanted ze "idea" of Fleur, and not the real Fleur." She chopped, furiously. "...my poor Gaby waz always drawn to 'er like a moth...my poor Gaby. But, it kept Fleur 'onest..."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, curiously, as she began on the scallions.

Her mother-in-law sighed. "Fleur...she nevair wanted to let Gaby down, you know. It waz perhapz ze most effective deterrent towards bad behavior...and zen, she met you, zank Merlin, 'imself! So in ze end, my Fleur was fine. But my Gaby..." Her voice trailed off. "She nevair 'ad a boyfriend or a girlfriend, but for different reazons zan Fleur. She waz so...introverted. Always observing, 'aving zees "visions," and such. Observing life, but never living it."

"That's kind of tragic, actually."

"Oui. Iz it such a surprize, zen, zat zey turned to each ozzer?"

She grimaced, hearing a loud crash from above, but ignored it, as Hermione was doing. "Gabrielle was so painfully shy, so shy, 'ermione..." She gave her daughter-in-law a knowing look. "But zen again...I guess you already know zat." She chuckled.

Hermione turned bright red. Surely she doesn't know...

Apollene said nothing, merely offering, "Zen why is it so different for Fleur's children? If anyzing, it's worse! Eva couldn't take a dump wiz out some photographer jumping out of ze bushes, at 'er. Ze public's fascination wiz her iz so beyond me!" She sighed. "Where was she, Eva, to find love, 'ermione? Whom could she trust, really, ozzer san zose closest to 'er?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Are you suggesting my daughter is in love with...my other daughter?" She said, in disbelief. "As in, romantically?"

Apollene smiled. "Non! It iz not one loving ze ozzer, silly! What I am suggesting is... zat zey both love each ozzer!" She gave the inherently prim Englishwoman a knowing look. "So...really, should Fleur be surprised? 'onestly, what chance did ze French Ministry have...against love?"

"Apollene...you're insane."

Another crash, and the sound of something expensive shattering was heard, upstairs.

"Apparently, it runz in ze family."

XOXOXOX

Hogwarts Grounds, Fidèles' 6th Year, Scotland.

The second and third years had definitely been "the awkward years" for the youngest Delacour-Granger Veela. Adding to her misery of her body's hormonal mess was the loss of protection from her larger-than-life older sister who had been the Infamous Head Girl, during Fideles' first year. In her second and third year, without Eva Delacour-Granger on the prowl, the Slytheryns considered her fair game, without the watchful eye of her big sister "Harry" on their asses. If it weren't for James and Robert, her life within Hogwarts would have been torture.

But the youngest Delacour-Granger managed to survive, and miraculously, her forth and fifth year, she blossomed. She finally let James talk her into trying out for the Quiddich team, and as fate would have it, she was amazing. The extra athletics helped work off her baby fat. That fact, combined with her Veela growth spurt of almost a foot in those two years, allowed the ugly duckling to inherit her Veela birthright, as she filled out...in all the right places. Fidèles became the Swan. Annoyingly to her, she also managed to cultivate quite a thrall as she went through puberty. Despite her intense thrall, she never was able to transform completely, much to the dismay of her Veela Mother and Grandmere.

"She's just a late bloomer," Her non-Veela mother reassured them, ironically, as the voice of reason. "Merlin's Beard, you all worry too much! Give the poor girl some slack! When the time is right, our baby will do it...just wait."

In her sixth year, she still had yet to transform. However, her family's worry bothered her less and less, as she managed to spend time more and more with her beloved Eva. Her sister would laugh, heartily, as Fideles regaled her with tales of outrunning various boys and some girls, and other ridiculous antics, during their secret Saturday afternoon lunches the sisters conducted every week. Fidèles would listen, with rapt attention, as Eva told her about her adventures in the English Ministry, and how she was managing. She had been put in charge of a squad, despite her young age. Despite her ever increasing workload, however,Eva was wonderful towards her little sister. No matter how tired she was, she was always there for her. Additionally, once Fidèles made the Gryffindor Quiddich team, the young Auror went to every game of her younger sister's; and the younger Gryffindor would beam with pride, when she would spot her sister in the stands.

She is still the prettiest girl at Hogwarts, even today! Fidèles mused, in wonderment.

As proud as she was to show off her famous Alumni sister , it was actually their private times that she cherished most. The times when the two could just talk and be ...themselves. It was during one of these moments, during a picnic, that they had an interesting conversation.

"So...you think you'll ever marry James or Robert, someday?" Eva asked, looking at her sister, amused.

"Oh, vomit! I zink I actually just...vomited, Eva. In my moutz. Zanks, a lot."

"It's just a question, Squirt."

"A dumb one."

"Not so dumb.." Eva said, defensively.

"You know, for zomeone who graduated first in 'er class, you're kinda dumb, 'arry. Tell me...'ave you really not picked up on ze fact zey might be more into ... each ozzer, zan me?" She remarked, while rolling her eyes, and folding her arms across the traditional Red and Gold trim robes of Gryffindor that she wore.

"What? James and Robert are ... light in the loafers?"

Fideles chucked a Bertie Bot at her older sister. "Merlin's beard, you're getting stuffy, working up in zat Ministry of yours! Who says "light in the loafers"? Really, are you like, 70 years old?"

"Does it count if I feel like I'm 70 years old?" Eva asked, grinning.

"Merde! I'm done talking to you!" Fidèles huffed, theatrically throwing her hands up in the air. She started to stage a walk-out, standing from their picnic, and preparing to walk off. Eva laughed, and shot her arm out, lightning quick, and tugged the younger girl back down. She gripped the smaller woman, amidst her pretend sputtering protests, and curled her, snug into her body.

The joking atmosphere stopped, and Eva began to stroke her sister's soft blonde hair, humming. They stayed nestled like that, content, for awhile.

Eva finally spoke. "Well, has anyone caught your eye, other than your two gay best friends, baby sister?"

Fidèles gave her a look that was pensive. "Peut-etre... Oui. Er, I don't know, actually. But ... I'm waiting."

"Waiting? For what?"

Fideles shook her head, nuzzling in deeper to her sisters neck, and closing her eyes. "I dunno...Maybe until I get older? Je ne sais pas...It'z like great art. I don't know exactly what it iz...but I'll know it when I see it."

XOXOXOXOXOX

Location Classified-Somewhere in Great Britain, Fidèles' 7th year.

Eva's rising star burned brightly.

And no one stoked the flame more, than the star herself. She was borderline reckless, taking insane risks that often had large payouts, as a result. Her mother kept a watchful eye on the British Auror's exploits, and was updated frequently by Minister Potter.

It was during a case involving crimes against Veela that she overstepped. She had been following the case for over 5 months, and the perpetrators had been able to trap and subdue several Veela, worldwide. There was strong evidence the criminals were on English soil, and she followed a lead that led her squad into danger. She was foolhardy, not waiting for backup, and took them in, fearing the trail would go cold if they waited.

The squad had always relied on Eva when times got tough- Eva in her Veela form was the baddest of the bad asses. No one messed with her. She jokingly dubbed herself "The Dark Art," to the disapproval of both of her mothers. However, her squad was severely outnumbered, and to her horror, she realized she wasn't able to transform into her Veela form! Eva would not be able to rescue them from this horrible situation.

The criminals had figured out a means to prevent her transformation...

She pondered the brilliance of their criminal minds, shortly before she was knocked unconscious. She lapsed in and out of consciousness over the next several hours, vaguely realizing they were being transported somewhere. She heard muffled voices with clarity only once, as someone said in a thick accent, "Kill the rest, but keep the bitch alive...she's worth our weight in gold."

It wasn't until the Legionneres from the French Ministry, led by none other than Minister Fleur Delacour-Granger herself, broke into the holding room and rescued what was left of Auror Team One from Britain, that Eva realized exactly what her arrogance had cost...

She was the only one left alive.

XOXOXOXOXOX

The Residence of Auror Eva Delacour-Granger, Fidèles' 7th year, England.

Fidèles snuck away from Hogwarts, through the tunnel under the Shrieking Shack, and apparated to her sisters' flat in London.

The news of the blow out between Fleur and Eva was told to her in three separate letters, from her siblings. She frowned, realizing Eva herself had not shared it with her – and they shared everything. Arriving at the Auror's flat, she easily passed the wards, as Eva had always left a pass-through for her youngest sister. She was horrified when she saw her.

She was a wreck.

Eva's eyes were red rimmed, and she looked like she hadn't eaten in days. Firewhiskey bottles littered her living room, and the normally tidy room was a mess. Eva lay there, sleeping on her couch, in a state of half transformed, half human. Remnants of several cuts and bruises remained on her body, causing her sister to frown, realizing her Veela healing powers weren't working effectively on her body.

She awoke with a start, when Fidèles placed a gentle hand on her stomach, and her Auror instincts kicked in, as she tackled her to the ground, with a growl, hand around her neck.

"Stop! Stop! It iz me, sister!" She gasped, pinned underneath the fierce and incoherent woman.

Eva blinked. "Fidèles?" Although her grip around her neck softened, her eyes grew angry, and her claws extended. "Tell me they didn't send you…that's low, even for Mother!"

"What are you talking about?"

Eva's eyes grew red, darkening quickly. "Did she? Did Mother send you here?"

"Bloody 'ell, non!" She said, trying to push the semi-drunk woman off of her. Eva only clutched her tighter.

"How do I know you're not lying?" She narrowed her eyes, and was starting to transform, further.

Fidèles sighed, closing her eyes. She opened them, slowly and looked into her sister's eyes. She put the unrestrained hand to Eva's cheek. "Eva…you know me! Please! You know where my … loyalties lie." She stroked Eva's matted dirty-blonde hair, trying to calm the escalating Veela above her.

"Then why are you here?"

"For real?" Fideles became angry. "Well, I was worried, for one! For the first time in my entire life, my big sister didn't write me…twice! Secondly, our brothers and sisters told me what happened. I came, immediately." She grasped Eva, tightly, tears falling from her eyes. "Oh, Eva, why didn't you tell me, yourself? "

Her gentle touch, and soothing murmurings somehow calmed the upset woman. Eva reverted, slowly, back into her human form, her molt dropping around them. Cracking her neck, she looked down on her little sister. Despite calming, she still held her pinned underneath her.

Bleary eyed, Eva answered. "I was afraid ….I was afraid that you believed them…believe Maman..."

Fidèles held her sisters' face in her hands, and said firmly. "Never."

They held each other's gaze for a long moment, and it was the youngest who finally broke the silence. "Let's get you into ze shower, ay? You smell like a winery! While you baze, I'll make you some dinner, oui?" She rolled from underneath her sister's pinning, standing up. She reached out her hand, and pulled Eva to a stand, guiding her into the shower. Handing her older sister a washcloth, she turned on the water. Fideles tested the water, then smiled brightly to her big sister.

"It'z ready! You 'ave ten minutes, and zat's it! Dinner will be served, n'est-ce pas?"

As Eva stepped into the shower, she looked at her beautiful younger sister, gazing at Fidèles with a tortured expression.

"Why, Fidèles? Why do you believe in me, so much? Especially now, when...no one does?"

The smaller woman shrugged, as though it were inconsequential. "I just do. It's just like I love you, Eva... I always 'ave. Zat will never change." She said, firmly. Fidèles smiled brightly as she exited to fix dinner.

Eva decided to follow her younger sisters' advice, and got into the shower. She let the purging water wash over her grimy body, miraculously feeling just a little bit better.

XOXOXOXO

It was late in the evening, and the two sisters lay on the couch in each other's arms, watching the fire, silently.

"Well, Eva? "Fidèles asked. "Do you want to... tell me? About what 'appened?"

"No. I fucked up, though. Badly."

"Can you undo it?"

"Nope."

"I see. Can you…make amends?"

"Maybe."

"Then zat's what you need to do, sister. Start working on your plan." Fidèles said, simply.

Eva sighed. "You make it sound so easy, Squirt."

"It iz zat eazy."

She flipped over, from facing away from Eva, so that she was now laying on top of her sister, as she folded her delicate hands across Eva's chest. Eva tried to ignore the twinges developing in her body from that simple action. Twinges she had, of late; and had been having, more frequently, when Fideles was her usual touchy self. She tried to focus instead on what she was actually saying, instead of how good her body felt, from her sister laying on top of her. She forced herself to keep her eyes on those of her younger sisters, instead of taking in the delicacy of her body, trying to remain…appropriate.

It was harder to do, these days. Fidèles was a woman, now, and of legal age. And it was undeniable, the sex appeal she had developed. She was soft, and feminine, so unlike the somewhat masculine edges that Eva felt she had. Eva was so much like Fleur, a hard and crystalline beauty; and Fidèles was just…soft.

Soft, and beautiful.

Kind.

Loyal.

Amazing.

Desirable…

Desirable, what? Eva shook her head, furious at herself. Hadn't she been disappointing enough, already, for the week? Did she have to think debauched thoughts about her little sister, as well? It was the object of her desires, Fidèles, that finally shook Eva out of her own dark thoughts. Pounding on her head, she playful hollered, "Space case! 'allo? Let's play a game," She giggled at her big sister.

"What?" Eva croaked, eyes lidded.

The younger Gryffindor looked at her mischievously. "Let's tell each other a secret…you must share one, at least one... that we've never shared with each other, before. Okay?"

Eva arched an eyebrow. "Are you telling me there are actually things remaining in this world, that I don't know about you, Squirt?"

Fidèles laughed. "Oh, oui!"

Eva frowned, pretending to appear dubious. "Okay, then... you go first."

Fidèles looked at the fire, then back at her sister, still laughing. "Okay, 'ow about zis fun fact: I argued with the sorting hat, and demanded I be put into Gryffindor, with you!"

"What?"

"Absolutely true! He waz going to put me into Hufflepuff, Bloody Hufflepuff! I threatenzed to leave ze school and nevair return, buring 'im on ze way out ze door."

Eva giggled. "I can't believe he let you coerce him into that!"

Fidèles regarded her sister, tenderly, and brushed her fingertips across her cheek. "I would 'ave died if he 'adn't put us togetzher, in ze same 'ouse."

Eva cleared her throat. "Oh, the drama of an 11 year old."

"I still feel ze same way, Eva…" Fidèles wasn't smiling, as she looked at her, intensely. "I…" The air was heavy. "I would die, if we weren't together, Eva."

"You might not always feel that way…"

"No." Fideles cut her off. "I will always feel...zat way." Suddenly, Eva felt her sister pressing forward, moving closer. She could feel her heat, and her body began responding, without her consent. Eva's eyes widened, in horror, as she felt herself become aroused.

"Fidèles...what are you …."

"Tell me you don't feel ze same." She said hoarsely. Fidèles fingers were gripped her, tightly. Her breath was labored, as she looked down on her big sister. Eva tried to clear her suddenly dry throat.

"Well, you're my sister, of course I feel that way…"

"Not like zat!" Fidèles eyes were dark. "Time for another secret, sister." She said, her voice, lower, this time. "It'z a big one, actually." She licked her lips. "I'm...I'm actually only your …half-sister, more or less."

"What?" She tried to sit upright, but Fidèles forced her back down, snaking her leg between Eva's as she pinned her sister underneath her. It landed on Eva's most sensitive part, and she gasped at the unexpected stimulation. The younger Gryffindor leaned forward, towards Eva's ear, her lips ghosting over the lobe. As Eva felt her hot breath on her skin, she shivered…with anticipation.

"It'z true, big sister."

"Fidèles," she croaked, "explain yourself!"

Her younger sister chuckled. "Surprise, right? Six montz ago, I waz taken to meet La Veela Prêtresse."

"What?"

"I know….I know. It waz a command appearance. Mamma and Mother didn't even know. It waz sere zat I met her, La Pretresse. Her identity waz revealed, to me." Her eyes were serious, looking at her older sister. "I couldn't believe it, truthfully. Eva... It was … it iz, actually...Gabrielle!"

"What? Aunt Gaby?" Eva said, shocked. She felt like she had said nothing but the word "what" in the last thirty minutes of their shocking talk.

"Oui, your Aunt Gaby."

Eva looked confused. "I think I must still be hung over…isn't she your Aunt Gaby, too?"

Fidèles looked intently at her sister. "No. It waz zen I learned, she iz not my Aunt. Gabrielle...well. She iz actually my…my mozzer..."

Eva eyes widened.

"And furthermore, my mozzer gave me permission…" The young girls' voice trailed off, and her eyes darted about the room, nervously. She didn't meet Eva's curious gaze. The younger girl appeared to be concentrating. Eva finally interrupted.

"Permission? For what?" Eva finally asked.

The younger Gryffindor licked her lips, momentarily. "For …zis." Fidèles answered, as she simultaneously leaned forward, capturing Eva's mouth in a ferocious kiss. Eva froze, equal parts shocked that her fantasy was coming true, and equal parts horrified, all at the same time.

"No…" she mumbled. "Fideles, no..."

"Really? "Fidèles asked, pulling away. She looked at her, with an almost hostile glare. "No?" She ran her hands underneath Eva's robes, stroking her breast, underneath. "No?" She confirmed. "Your answer iz to tell me ...no. Iz zat why you've never 'ad a boyfriend, or a girlfriend, Eva?"

She continued to knead her breast, causing Eva's breath to speed up, then to hitch. Fidèles squeezed the nipple of her breast, rolling it hard between her fingertips. Eva closed her eyes, exhaling, as the motion caused a burning sensation to shoot between her legs. She was tingling in her most sensitive area, in the most tantalizing manner. She felt herself becoming wet, between her legs, under the ministrations of her younger sister's fingers, and accidentally let out a groan of approval, as she shifted, uncomfortably.

"No?" Fidèles hissed. "Iz zat why you stare at me, just a leetle too long, and inappropriately, sister?"

With the hand not manipulating her big sister's nipple, she started to unbutton Eva's robes, exposing her, fully. Fidèles' breath caught, slightly, as she took in her sister's toned body. She looked at Eva, regarding her, with blatant lust in her eyes. Licking her lips, she continued, her voice lower.

"No? Tell me...if zat iz your answer, why iz it zat you dream of me, at night...and not just ordinary dreams, Eva! Lurid dreams, sister..." She leaned over, capturing the now exposed breast, taking her nipple in her mouth, sucking it, harshly. The sensation caused Eva to gasp. Fidèles murmured her approval, as she pulled off Eva's breast, with a bite to the nipple. "Iz sat why you tell me...no?" The overly hard nip caused a sensation that hit Eva to her core. It caused the older Veela to hiss.

Fidèles added, smugly, "By ze way...you talk in your sleep, sister." She grinned a carnal grin, one that belied her young age.

She looked smug.

With one smooth motion, Fidèles sat up, and pulled her own robes off with a single swoop of her arm. Eva could no longer fight her arousal or the temptation of her sisters naked and sinfully perfect body, hovering above her. Eva's hands shook, in part from the disbelief that her carnal fantasies were actually coming to pass. Eva timidly placed her hands on the smooth hips that were straddling her, presently. Her fingertips ghosted over the skin of the woman who had been the subject of her nightly fantasies, so inappropriately, for so many months...

And now, said fantasy was looking down at her, with an insolent smirk. "Non, Ma Belle? Oui, J'comprende...if it iz No? Is No, your answer, alors..." Fideles put the weight of her wet center down, squarely, on her sister's equally damp center, hot with arousal. She continued. "Let me ask you zis: I suppose zen, zat you've never secretly been... relieved... zat I nevair took a lover, eizer, correct? Iz zat right, Eva? You were nevair glad, zat I didn't 'ave someone take my virginity, away from you…"

Eva frowned, realizing she was furious at the thought of someone else touching Fidèles. She had always attributed her "overprotectiveness" to being her eldest, and most devoted, sister; but in retrospect, she always knew there was more to it, than just that. She grew angry thinking of anyone-male or female- touching Fidèles in an intimate manner.

Her Fidèles.

She gripped the younger woman's hips, harder, leaving slight indents in her skin. The younger woman laughed. She looked at her sister, her eyes paradoxically playful and full of lust. "Do you know what my name means, Eva?"

Eva shook her head, no. She didn't trust her voice in this moment.

"It means…loyal. Do you know whom zat loyalty iz for, exactly?"

Eva looked up, knowing the answer. She nodded.

"Zat's right, big sister." With a swift motion, Fidèles finally leaned forward, and laid her naked body, flush, on top of her sister. The first sensation of their exposed skin connecting and touching, in such a magnificently sinful manner, caused them both to gasp.

Fidèles husked into her sisters' ear. "I waz born…for you. For you to 'ave me…your one true and loyal love, Eva. " She kissed the side of her elder sister's neck, dipping her tongue out, tasting her skin. Fidèles hummed her approval. The gesture elicited a growl from the tortured elder sister.

"I waz born to take your sickness and sin, from you..."

Fidèles removed her lips, drifting back to her sister's ear, to which she ghosted in a low and solemn voice, "Don't you know? Haven't you realized it yet, Eva?" She peppered gentle kisses across her ear, causing Eva to shiver. "Oh, Eva... since ze day I waz born, I waz meant for one zing, Ma Chou. To be yours."

Her lips drifted across Eva's neck. "And ever since...I've always been…yours." She sucked her earlobe, causing Eva to growl. "My dearest big sister...J'appartiens à vous."

Eva lost it. Her eyes flashed red, in warning.

With a strength only bestowed on magical creatures such as the Veela, Eva stood up, deadlifting Fidèles' weight along with her own. Gripping the younger woman tightly to her pelvis, her fingers digging into her delicate back, she grew more aroused feeling their heat intermix. Walking caused their intimate parts to grind against one anothers', and it caused Eva to growl again as she carried the lithe Fidèles tight in her grasp.

Fidèles grinned, burrowing her face in her sisters' neck, breathing in her scent; she realized that her sister was headed in the direction of her bedroom. Suddenly, she stopped right in front of her room. Her hands were gripping Fideles' backside, propping her close to her core. Their naked torsos were milling against one another with each step. Eva's eyes were dark with lust.

"If you don't want this, little sister, you need to say so, now. Right now! Because...once I taste you... I'm not going to be able to turn back." Eva said with finality.

Her younger sister looked at her, her eyes full of love, devotion, and lust.

"Walk faster, Eva..."

With an evil grin, Eva stopped only once more, to shut the bedroom door behind her.

XOXOXOXOXOX

When Fidèles was absent for the second day in a row, Headmaster Longbottom finally contacted Hermione.

"Her sister had sent an owl, and assured me she would return, yesterday. But that was yesterday, Hermione, and now it's...well, today!" He remarked, clearly flustered. He was loathe to get his favorite student, the one who had started many of the charitable clubs of Hogwarts, in trouble with the loose cannon he knew Minister Delacour-Granger could be.

He was more chilled when he heard the absolutely calm voice that responded.

"Thank you, Neville. I'll take it from here. And I assure you...Fideles will be back in classes, first thing in the morning."

Has he pulled his head from the floo, he wondered if he made a tactical error and informed the wrong parent, after all.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXO

There are moments in your life one will never forget, implicitly.

Every excruciating bit, seeded into one's memory, down to the last detail. This was one such moment, for the four women involved. As Fleur Delacour-Granger broke through Eva's rudimentary wards, and subsequently broke down Eva's door from its hinges, it was actually Hermione Delacour-Granger that had the privilege of walking in first, to discover her oldest daughter and her youngest daughter, in Eva's bed.

Hermione gasped, as she took in the realization of what she saw.

Her daughters were sixty-nining each other, in the disheveled room, reeking of sex and sweat; worse, her daughters were moaning like muggle porn stars.

"Oh my fucking God!" Hermione exclaimed, doing an immediate U-turn and walking out of the room.

There was an immediate flurry of activity. "Merde! It's Maman!" Squealed the youngest, as she jumped off of Eva.

She wrestled the bed sheet off the ground, and threw it over their highly indisposed bodies, covered in two days worth of sex remnants and stale sweat. From the other room, she heard Hermione's shaking voice, at a fever pitch.

" Fidèles Rose Delacour-Granger, you have fifteen seconds...and I mean fifteen! In which to get dressed, and then I am taking you back to school. Immediately!" The quiet command of the Golden Girl's voice terrified everyone present, including Fleur.

Eva and Fideles rushed to find her clothes, and she huffed. Eva did a quick Accio, then spelled the clothes back onto her lover, and then spelled them to look not so rumpled.

"Two seconds left. Get out there...and I love you."

"Je vous aime...pervert." The younger Gryffindor smiled, and walked out, casually into Eva's living room.

Eva almost started laughing, as she heard Fidèles ' overly melodic voice. "Oh, hello, Maman! Mother! It's nice to see you-"

"Spare me, Fidèles Rose!" Hermione's sharp voice cut in. "Hold on to my arm...now! We're leaving!" She said in a huff. Eva heard the pop! signalling their apparation away, likely immediately outside Hogwarts. The Heir Apparent chuckled to herself, wondering if her Maman was more upset over the fact that she found them engaging in sexual relations with their...relations, or alternatively, that in order to engage in said relations, she had skipped two whole days of classes. She felt sorry for Fidèles, regardless, but laughed anyway.

Then, she heard the unmistakable click click click of her other mother's heels, realizing that both mothers came...and only one mother left.

"Merde!" She muttered, pulling the sheet up to cover her inappropriately naked self. When her regal mother entered her bedroom, it was to Eva's credit that she met Fleur's eyes head on, and did not look away as her fierce mother entered the room.

Fleur said nothing, initially.

The cereculian blues merely looked around, just taking in everything, silently, her arms folded across her perfectly taylored power blue suit. Eva held her breath, as Fleur slowly walked over to the bed.

Click, click, click...

When her mother plopped down next to her, kicking her heels off the side of the bed, Eva was sure she was going to have a heart attack on the spot. Shocking Eva further, Fleur removed a bottle of fire whiskey and two shot glasses from within the depths of her expensive pillbox purse, complete with an extendable charm. The French Minister said nothing, at first. Then, she spoke in a quiet voice.

"Take zis, 'ere, Eva." She handed over a glass to her eldest, which the shocked British Auror complied with dutifully. Wordlessly, Fleur poured each of them a shot, of some murky looking, potent smelling beverage.

"Salut." Fleur offered, and the two women downed the harsh liquor.

They both grimaced, immediately. Both women, looking frighteningly alike at that moment despite the absence of garments on the younger, regarded their empty glasses, reflectively. Fleur gave a sideways glance at her daughter.

"Anozzer?" Fleur asked.

"S'il vous plait." Eva responded, holding up her container.

"Bon." Fleur nodded, and poured them both a double.

It wasn't until the fifth shot that Fleur finally made actual conversation. "Zat feather over zere," she noted, pointing to the molt in the corner, "zat grey one...it doezn't look like your molt, Eva."

The Heir Apparent choked on the drink she was in the midst of taking. "Er...well, it isn't, Mother."

She arched a sculpted eyebrow. " Fidèles?"

"Yes." Eva replied, meekly. "You're...um...very observant, Mother."

"Mais, oui. Once an Auror..."

"...always an Auror." Eva finished.

They both chuckled, as Fleur poured them the last shot. Before they hoisted it up, she looked Eva in the eye. "Don't deflect. Tell me...'ow did you do it?"

"Do what?"

Fleur rolled her eyes, emphasizing how well sculpted her eyebrows were. "Get her to sell one 'undred Weasley Wizard Wheezes in one lunch period...stupid! Non! What do you zink? 'ow did you get her to transform, finally?"

"Mother, really?"

Fleur looked at her.

Exasperated, Eva finally answered. "Well, sex, obviously."

Fleur looked down into her glass, swirling the last remnants of the murky liquid. She hummed, a bit, then observed, "No...Je ne pense pas.Not sex, obviously!" The veteran Auror gestured around the room. "Clearly, you'd been 'aving a cornucopia of sex, in ze last 48 hours, Eva, oui?"

Eva's face burned scarlet red, and she wished she was an unregistered animigus at that very moment.

Fleur continued. "...zat molt looks to be less zan six hours past, maybe eight at ze most."

Eva narrowed her drunken eyes, taking in her mother. Her powers of observation, even intoxicated, were frightening. "You're scary, you know that?"

"So I've been told. Spill it." A mischievous glint appeared on the normally serious woman's face.

Eva sighed. "I can't believe I'm telling my mother this..." She closed her eyes. "..if your perverted little mind really needs to know, then fine!" Eva downed her shot.

Fleur looked at her, waiting. Eva set down her shot glass on her side table, and looked at Fleur, and scowled. The gesture caused her mother to laugh at her.

"Still waiting, Eva."

"Fine!" Her daughter huffed. " Anal, if you must know, nosey!"

Fleur raised her eyebrows.

"Twice." Eva added.

Then, to her surprise, rather than the screaming rant that she generally received at the hands of her fierce Mother, she was met with an insolent grin.

"Anal..." Fleur mused, downing her shot. "Mon Dieu, she's so much like Gaby, it's not even funny...!"

Eva's mouth fell open.

"Tell me...fingers, or your Veela appendage, zat appears for "just such an occasion", down zere?" She asked, grabbing Eva's crotch, for emphasis.

"Hey!" Eva huffed, affronted, pushing Fleur's hand away. "You are insane, just like they say, Mother!"

"No, I'm French! And Veela." She hiccupped. "I'm a French Veela. I live for ze kind of zings..."

Eva stared at her mother, her brows furrowed.

"Stop. You'll give yourself wrinkles." Fleur chucked, setting down her glass on the endtable.

After a moment, the smallest of grins hinted on Eva's face. She looked at her mother, and spoke after a beat. "Well, if you must know...both."

"Both?" Fleur replied, raising her eyebrows. She grinned. "Bien fait, Eva!"

Eva looked as though she was mulling over how to proceed. To hell with it, she thought, and out loud, she said, "Well, I am your daughter..."

"Zat you are." Fleur chuckled, the vestiages of a strange Veela pride creeping into her voice. "So...do you have any more of zis crap, in 'ouse?" She raised the empty bottle of firewhiskey.

"Bien sur..." Eva reached under the bed, retrieving her "special bottle."

Fleur laughed. "Under ze bed? Non. I keep mine in my sock drawer...'ave to 'ide it from 'ermione."

"The sock drawer, huh?"

"Oui. Everyone looks through ze underwear...mais alors, no one suspects ze much maligned, often forgotten... sock."

"Mmmm. Good advice."

And in the most bizarre turn of events, Eva would remember that sentinel moment as being the defining moment her relationship with her mother did a 180 degree spin. It was the beginning of their real relationship, to her mind, their second chance. It became a mother-daughter relationship that would only deepen over time, and solidified the bond between the leader of the most powerful Veela Clan in the world, and her trusted heir apparent.

A relationship remembered as one of the tightest Veela kinships modern history would know.

XOXOXOXOXXOXOXO

Azkaban Prison, England. Fifteen Years Later.

"Thank you. I shan't need more than, oh, fifteen minutes."

"Take all the time you need, Minister. We're honored to have you here, ma'am."

The heavy door swung open, and the French Minister held her nose at the dank smell that immediately assaulted her nostrils. Her eyes, given her Veela sensibilities, quickly adjusted to the low light, and she grimaced as a rat ran across her foot. Holding her parcel in her hand, she walked to the two disheveled high-security prisoners, chained to the wall in front of her.

She unlocked the wrist shackles, with wandless magic, to their surprise. Longstanding scars had bit and scarred the skin where the shackles had been.

"Well, well, well…to what do we owe the honor of the Golden Girl's appearance in our humble abode?" the first prisoner sneered.

"Golden Girl...funny. That's my mother, not me."

She glared at another rat, as it darted directly across her foot. Recovering she pulled a parcel from within her robes and opened it. Succulent smells of French food and wine wafted into the grimy cell.

The formidable French minister slid it, within their reach. "Please…eat. Drink. There's lunch for both of you."

They ate, ravenously, gulping down the food. The cell was utterly silent save the hasty intake; The French Minister, Eva Delacour-Granger, watched Nathlee and Nicole Mendoncia gobble down the food, without pause. Nathlee, wiping her mouth, after she finished looked up at Eva. Not bothering to hide her suspicion, she gritted, "To what do we owe the honor , Minister?"

Eva spoke her voice measured. "I find myself in a bit of a dilemma." She looked around the cell with obvious distain. "Clearly even you understand the crimes you have been found guilty of…are so heinous in nature, I'm sure you realize that prison is not...undeserved."

Neither twin spoke.

"Nathlee, you are unquestionably a psychopath. You are brilliant, dangerous, and terrifying. You have been my countries number one enemy for a decade." She sighed, running her hands through her hair. "However, you are… a Veela, and therefore, by definition, that makes you… my psychopath."

She grimaced as the rat made another appearance. She picked it up within her hand and squeezed it throwing against the wall. For the first time, her counterpart smiled.

Eva scowled. "And the thought of you rotting in a British cell, makes my stomach turn ...even if you deserve everything you get here."

Nicole's eyes flickered, momentarily, with hope at the Minister's words, but Nathlee's eyes remained hard. "We—" She corrected herself. "I don't want ze Delacour's charity." She grimaced, with distain.

Eva shook her head. "I already told you ...I'm not my mother. Be glad for that – she hated your guts, for some reason. That's impressive, as Maman hated no one." The French Minister chuckled. "I'm not a Saint, like she was. So… don't confuse me with the noble Golden girl, by any stretch! This isn't charity, I assure you."

The elder looked curious, finally. "Go on."

"I have a ...business proposition for you. And the reason I brought the food and wine is so that no one can accuse you of being in an altered state of hunger, while negotiating with me. I didn't want you to feel coerced."

Nathlee continued to stare at her. Even Azkaban had yet to break her.

The poised Minister continued to explain. "I have made arrangements for you both to be extradited back to France, despite your sentencing crime committed here on English soil. The British government agrees that you are…."she paused, selecting her choice of words carefully. "…that you are our issue to deal with. Good or bad." She added.

They both breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God! "Nicole said, quietly.

"So, regardless of the decision you make you will be returned to France, rest assured. Alors, without beating around the bush, your choice is this: serve your sentence, as agreed , however in a wizarding prison in France. Or, alternatively, return to France and..." Eva paused, thinking of how to approach this. Exhaling, the Minister added, "...where you will come to work for me."

The two witches looked at her, incredulously. "Répétez-vous? I thought I 'eard you say you wanted me to come work for you."

"I did."

Nathlee laughed out loud. "Oh, the arrogance! I thought I'd heard eet all..."

Surprisingly, Eva remained calm, merely looking at them, with her arms folded on her lap. Nathlee continued her rant, while Eva waited it out. When she had sputtered out, the French official continued.

"Look, I understand. It seems ...ludicrous, really. I do not suffer fools, however, and I want to tell you something in absolute truth: there is only one thing worse than being-as you put it, so eloquently- under a Delacour," she looked at the prisioner, directly. "and that's being a Delacour, Nathlee."

"Explain."

Eva sighed. "Explain...really? I think you know the pressures, well, that come with being born into our respective families...c'est vrai? I understood your burden a lot better over these past few years; I grew to know your Grandmere well in the last years of her life. I understand a lot better than you think I do. With each of your escillating exploits, I've asked myself, 'what drives you, Nathlee? What could possibly cause you to betray your people?' What I finally concluded, with the help of your grandmere, and others of course, is that you and I are...not so different. Honestly, it's partly random luck that has me sitting where I am, verses sitting where you are."

The prime minister chuckled, adding, "or, most likely, for us both to be sitting here, against that wall." She let the statement sink in, before she spoke again.

"There will be several conditions of your freedom, should you choose to come work for me… I want you to know that, up front. Firstly, you will resume treatments and medicinal therapy with a competent MediWitch of my choosing, resuming your mental health care you had when you were a child, before you quit when you got older."

Nathlee grew enraged. "Putain! Zat iz private! How dare Grandmere-"

Eva put up her hand. "Etiolle is not the reason I knew this, Noelle. It's irrelevant how I know! The bottom line is you need your treatments to be even-keeled, functional, and not so damn angry all the time! Why the hell do you want to feel this way- so angry and frustrated? Why?" Bending down to look her eye to eye, she continued in a softer voice, she added, "Look, I've never been in your shoes, but my understanding is that today's potions have improved significantly since the last time you took them. Nathlee, it's not going to be so horrible... I promise you."

Nathlee still looked furious, but Eva soldiered on.

"You will have full-time surveillance, but you will be allowed to live privately. You will not be allowed to use port keys, or leave the country. There will be a restraining order between you and your former victims, requiring you to maintain certain distance, and non-apparition."

The proud woman arched an eyebrow. "And what will I be doing...being your personal slave? Show ze world your dominance over ze 'ouse of Mendoncia, and 'ow far zey 'ave fallen?"

Eva looked angry, but she quickly calmed her features. "If we are to be honest, here, the House of Mendoncia is doing just fine. It's you that has fallen from grace... not your family."

Nathlee fumed further, whereas her younger twin looked ... remorseful.

"Aren't you tired of being so angry all the time? You're smart you're brilliant your innovative…you can run magic around the people who hold you captive! Nathlee, you can do better than this!" She raised her voice, gesturing around the cell. "But I can't undo the fact that your actions in the past have earned your present situation. But what I can offer you is a chance to change your future... and It is entirely up to you."

"What would I be doing, exactly?" Despite her guarded tone, she was clearly interested.

"You would be the senior consultant to a new department that I'm forming. It's called "The Department of International Homeland Security," dealing with issues of national and international security threats. Then after 18 months or so, depending on how your metal health MediWitch says you're doing, you would assume command of this post, and become its Director."

"Nathlee!" Nicole exclaimed, excitedly.

The hardened woman looked stunned. "Have…have you gone crazy, Eva? Me? Do international law enforcement? For wizards and muggles, alike?"

Ava laughed. "My senior advisors seem to think I've gone a little crazy, yes. But I think I'm crazy-brilliant! Think about it! Who better to help us defend the country against known and unknown threats than the person who managed to stymie the best of the best for the last 15 years, as a criminal mastermind?"

"So, zis deal of yours... 'ow do you know I won't just turn around, and fuck you?" she said, critically.

Eva was silent, mulling the question over. "That's a good question, Nathlee." She gave the despised Veela a serious look. "I suppose primarily because my sources tell me you prefer dicks to chicks. You don't swing that way...even a little bit. So, I think I'm safe."

"Yes, but…wait, what?" Nathlee said, prepared to argue. Finally catching the dry joke, her eyes shot up, to meet the amused look on the French minister's face. Then something miraculous occurred: the depressing and dank cell rang out with the unfamiliar sound of laughter, as all three witches went into a near fit, joining in together.

"You are terrible, Madame!" Nicole giggled.

Wiping tears from her eyes, Eva added, "Okay, all inappropriate sexual innuendos aside. Honestly, Nathlee? I know what drives you…I understand your currency. I know you."

She stood up. "You need to prove yourself ...and you're smart enough not to blow it. You recognize this as what it is, and I'm just merely giving you the opportunity, the vehicle, as well as the platform and resources to do it. I believe you won't fuck me, professionally speaking," Eva added with a wink to Nicole, "if for no other reason that you want to tell the world at large "fuck you! I'm better than you, and I rose above this.' That's my theory anyway. If not, I can assure you, you will return to prison."

She collected herself, and dusted off her pencil-knit skirt. "But I assure you, as your Minister and fellow Veela, it will be under more humane conditions than... this." She looked around the cell, disparagingly.

"Some would say zat's more zan I dezerve, Minister."

"And some would be right – for now. It's up to you to earn it, and prove them wrong."

The minister gathered the things she brought, and prepared to go. Almost at the door, she turned back, momentarily, and added, "I'm not going to lie… it's not going to be easy. People hate your guts, Nathlee. You're going to have to work twice as hard, to get half the credit as other people. People won't be fair to you; people will whisper behind your back... some will openly continue to hate you. It's going to test you on every level. But at least it's your decision, Nathlee. The decision is yours. Think it over...I will send an -"

"Stop." Nathlee interrupted. "I'll do it."

"Wait - really?" The Minister asked, sounding slightly surprised.

"Yes. I am insane, remember?" She laughed. "But I 'ave one condition, Eva: my sister goes free. Exonerated completely." She sighed, ignoring her loyal sisters words of protest. "None of zis was 'er doing; 'er crime, eef it iz one , iz zat she's loyal." Nathlee grimaced. "She never committed any of ze acts we were charged wiz... I did. I did zem all."

Eva paused, thinking of something from her past. With a cryptic smile, she said, "How very Gryffindor of you, Mademoiselle Mendoncia," she added, with a chuckle. "but entirely unnecessary. It was a given Nicole would be exonerated. There was evidence confiming what you've already said, it was just never brought to light. The prosecutors felt her complicities warranted sentencing, in addition to yours. But that can change, I promise you that."

"So, do we 'ave a deel?"

She walked over to Nathlee, whose wrists had magically re-shackled, and she reached down grasping her dirty hand, firmly. The two witches shook hands on their brokered deal.

"Prove me right, Nathlee. I'm counting on it."

XOXOXOXOXOX

The Élysée Palace, France. Ten Years Later.

Two figures walked, side by side, down the grand hall. Several members of the security detail walked ten paces behind them.

The taller of the two looked to her colleuge. "Nathlee?"

"Oui, Madame President?" She responded, dryly.

"You owe me lunch."

The older witch looked at Eva, cooly. "Seeing az 'ow I prevented your death zis week, yet again, I zink you owe me, ze lunch, Madame President."

Eva Delacour-Granger made some huffing noises, but continued walking. "Yes, but you poisoned the assassins illegally, woman! It resulted in a lot of paperwork for me! You know how I feel about paperwork." The beautiful blonde grimaced.

"Mmm." They had arrived at the Cafe, reserved for only the highest level of the directorate. The diners cleared a path, leaving a wide berth for the President and her Senior Advisor to head towards their usual table. The Presidential Guard scanned the room, as per protocol. The lead agent nodded, gesturing the two ladies towards the table.

The one they ate lunch at...every day.

They seated themselves, and after ordering their usual, they ate in comfortable silence for a few moments. Finally, the President dabbed the corners of her mouth with the napkin, and her blue eyes shot upwards. "Okay, Nathlee. I'm going to bring it up, again..."

She groaned. "If zis is about zat Branleur, Monsieur Harry Potter, again..."

"Look, Nat. He's been very lonely since Aunt Ginny died! She's been gone almost as long as my parents have...and, well, he's ready. You impressed him a lot, back when you and I first got together..."

Nathlee raised her eyebrows.

"...professionally speaking, of course! After Azkaban." She looked at the evil grin on Secretary Mendoncia's face, and the Predsident grimaced. "Stop it, Nat! We've established you're one of those weird heterosexuals, long ago..." The older witch waved her off, pretending to be more interested in her soup of the day, versus her friend's matchmaking attempts. Eva barreled on, regardless. "Besides, you need to talk to more people than just me and your sister..."

The Secretary to the President huffed. "Zat iz a lie! I talk to ozzers! I talk to zat abnormally freakishly 'appy young wife of yours, for example."

"No. That doesn't count. She likes everyone." Eva laughed, as Nathlee scowled at her. "You know, you and Uncle Harry really have more in common than you realize, actually...you both have saved the world. Not many have that in common."

"Oui, but Monsieur Potter didn't destroy it a few times, first."

"Hmm, not totally. But he wasn't all sunshine, like the papers make him to be. Maman told me some interesting stories, before she died."

A look crossed the elder witches face. "Speaking of your Maman...you know, I'll strike you a deal, Madame President..."

"Ca pue...damn! This is usually how I end up in a different country, or really hung over, when you start a sentence that way."

Nathlee laughed. "No, for real, ma vieil amie...tell me ze story, ze real story, of 'ow your Maman died, then your Muzzer...and I'll do eet. I'll go out wiz your Batard uncle."

"Deal!" She looked around the cafe. "But..um. Not here. Come over to our house... I have the place to myself! The wife is dragging the kids to Beauxbatons tonight..."

An evil look crossed Nathlee's face. "What do-gooding iz she up to, now? Teaching ze school's 'ouse elves 'ow to read?" She snorted.

The President's face grew red. "No..um." She speared a bite of salad, glumly, preparing for the hazing. "She's...uh...giving dance lessons to the Goblins for preparation of the All Hallows Dance..."

The raucous laughter erupting from the Senior Advisor's table caused every patron to glance over, curiously.

"Mon Dieu!" Hooted the former bitter rival of the House of Delacour,as she wiped her eyes with tears of laughter. "Oh, 'ell...she's just so damn...'appy! Madame President...knowing you az I do, after all zee years... admit it...It's like your own private 'ell."

The President chewed, thinking. "I suppose. But its my beautiful hell, one that makes me unbelievably happy, and gives some amazing kisses! I wouldn't have it any other way, Madame Secretary."

"Duh! Az zough you are reporting somezing new to me..bah!" She scowled and grinned, simultaneously. "So...see you at seven...? No happiness, zough! You 'ear me, kid? Do not sign me up to make friendship bracelets wiz ze fairies, or any ozzer bullshit, you 'ear? Otherwise I'll stop saving your ass from ze criminals, henceforth."

Eva rolled her eyes. "Please. Like you would leave my life in the hands of the people that are supposed to save it...hah! But you have a deal. Seven it is. I cannot confirm nor deny that there will be happiness, however."

Her friend grimaced, and the President laughed.

XOXOXOXOXO

The Palace of the La Veela Prêtresse, Undisclosed Location in France.

Mme. Gabrielle Delacour startled, nearly slipping to a fall.

"Madame Prêtresse!" Her senior attendant said, alarmed, as he rushed to her side.

The regal-appearing Veela waved him off, with a smile. "I'm fine, Robby, really. There was just another little small…ripple…in the universe, that just closed." She straightened her flowing silk gown, adjusting herself, and straightened her hair. Her jaw was set.

Robby, her Senior Attendant, the one who had been in her employ the longest, and was the only one who felt comfortable enough asking her such things, inquired, "Your niece, again, Madame Prêtresse?"

Gaby nodded.

"Is everything…okay?"

Gaby nodded, again, her smile widening. "Bien sur. Everyzing iz …just as it ought to be, actually." She took his arm, and walked out to the magnificent grounds of her Palace, inhaling the invigorating morning air, and looking off to the horizon. "It's perfect, actually…." She said, quietly, smiling serenely.

FIN.

---

Epilogue: (Also Known As, "What the Hell Did Fleur ask Hermione?")

The Delacour-Granger Residence, 5½ years after the Sacred Grounds, Paris.

"My darling…" Fleur's voice was unusually strained.

Enough so, that it caused her wife, Hermione, to pause, and look up from her parchment. Professor Delacour-Granger was busy was preparing for her next day's lecture. "Fleur?" The scholar asked, concerned.

Fleur crossed the room, the strain evident in her face. She scooped Hermione into her arms, embracing her; and saying legions of words without saying a single one, she looked down at her mate. The beautiful blonde closed her eyes, exhaling, as she spoke.

"My dearest 'ermione…my mate. Do you know how much I love you? " Her hands began to stroke the brunette, tenderly across her face. "Do you know, just 'ow much I …desire you?" The Veela looked at her, with reverence. "Do you know...ma belle... 'ow much I love being a family, wiz you?"

Hermione chuckled. "Do I?" The scholar took off her reading glasses, setting them down on her forgotten parchment, as she leaned into Fleur's embrace, and returned the gaze into her bride's eyes, lovingly. "Do the four children screaming and threatening to murder one another next door not provide enough physical evidence to that fact?"

"Mais, oui. But..." Fleur simply stroked her wife's still unruly mane. Her eyes seemed to glaze over. "You 'ave been everyzing to me, 'ermione! I want you to know zat... More zan I could ever dream, was possible, for me…"

"Fleur,"Hermione said, concern creeping into her senses. "You're making me nervous…"

Fleur's eyes looked at her, darkly.

"Fleur?" Hermione asked, uncertainly.

The blonde tried to speak, but her voice chocked off. Unable to speak, Fleur looked as though she was going to cry. Hermione had now moved past possible concern, and was now actually becoming alarmed. What Fleur's next statement did was to only amplify that uncertainty.

"Ma belle..." Fleur finally said, slowly. "Ah, well. It... iz time, 'ermione." Fleur, one of France's fiercest Aurors, looked like she might break. "Do you remember, all zose years back, when I asked you for somezing? " She swallowed, hard. "Ze zing I needed to ask of you…it iz time for you to do it, now."

Hermione cleared her throat. "Okay, darling…what do you need me to do?"

"Somezing you might consider...bad, but necessary. Somezing zat I zink might kill me, inside, I'm afraid…"

That evening, lesson plans were completely forgotten, as Fleur patiently explained "the favor," and the rationale as to why it was necessary, to a deeply concerned former Gryffindor, who - as the evening wore on- grew increasingly concerned about her ability to find the courage necessary to do the thing Fleur asked of her.

XOXOXOX

The Palace of the La Veela Prêtresse, Undisclosed Location in France, 5¾ years following the Sacred Grounds.

"Zank you, for coming, Cheri."

The beautiful blond woman practically glided over toward her visitor, her flowing translucent silk robes barely concealing her body underneath. She took the startled visitor's hand in hers, and said, "Allow me, dear 'ermione, s'il vous plait, to give you a tour of ze grounds…"

Hermione swallowed, hard. She replied in a shaky voice. "O-Okay, Gabrielle…"

The head attendant, the one who was currently assigned to chaperoning duties, at present, heard the colloquialism, and his head shot up. "Madame!" He admonished. "Please address Madame as either "Madame Prêtresse," or simply the more casual nomenclature, "La Prêtresse " , s'il vous plait, but never by her given nam-"

He was cut off by an angry Gabrielle. "zat will not be necessary today, Robert, zank you. Madame Hermione is my sister-in-law, and has been my friend since before..." Gaby paused. "long before…my transformation."

The servant nodded his head, obediently. "As you wish, Madame." Hermione couldn't help but notice, despite La Veela Prêtresse's request, he kept a side eye on her, for the rest of the day. Apparently, one does not disrespect the Prêtresse, Hermione learned quickly.

"You might as well become familiar, 'ermione. It iz...unusual, for mortals to be allowed entrance to this residence; you should enjoy it, zen, I zink. After all, I 'ave no idea 'ow long you'll be here, as...Ohhh!"

Gabrielle leaned over, wincing, as she clutched her forehead. Both Hermione and the Senior Attendant rushed to her, immediately.

"Madame!" Robert fussed, concern in his voice, as he helped her stand. "Is it...?"

She nodded. "Oui." She said, darkly. "Zey are coming more frequently, today..." She turned her gaze, briefly, to Hermione. "I am sorry, I must cut our tour short. Please, enjoy ze library...Fleur said you always loved to read. I will be by, later."

She gave Hermione a brief kiss on the cheek, the lingering nature of it causing Hermione to shiver, momentarily. Their eyes connected, briefly, with something understood that flickered between the two. A second attendant appeared, to take Hermione to the library, as she watched Gaby exit, clearly not well. She was frustrated she was so inert, and frustrated even more that she could not communicate with the outside world while on this island - even her mate.

XOXOXOXXO

When Gaby reappeared several hours later, she looked slightly fatigued, but more radiant, if that was possible. And her magic was absolutely alive, Hermione could feel it crackling around her, causing her scanty robes to almost light from within.

"Let's finish zat tour, Maintenant," she declared, to which Hermione was glad to concur after being cooped up for so long and eating dinner alone. The chance to stretch her legs was much appreciated.

She couldn't help but to smile affectionately at her younger sister-in-law, who kept giving her shy glances, and very embarrassed about the obscene wealth that was now hers, as a result of her newfound station. After a whirlwhind tour of the magnificent property and grounds, Gaby concluded them at the final stop: Her rather large and ornate bedroom.

"Aprez-vous," she offered, motioning Hermione in.

"No, you...first, please." She croaked. Hermione ignored the dry feeling in her throat, and the general state of anxiety she was feeling. Gaby glided inside, walking directly to her four poster bed, and sat down. Perched at the edge of the bed, she urged, "Come, 'ermione." She said, softly.

Gaby's translucent robes, now that Hermione had a chance to really look, seemed to reveal more of her amazing body, that she remembered, previously. She could see the swell of her large breasts, and the hint of the tips of her nipples, as they peek out from the top of her bodice. Hermione tried to comply, after all, that's why she was here; and as she moved to take her first step, she found she couldn't . Her feel felt like lead, pinning her to the spot.

Gaby attempted to hide her hurt expression. "Iz it so 'orrible, dear sister? Do you need some…encouragement, 'ermione?" Gaby asked, noting her hesitation.

"I…don't know. I…" before she could respond fully, she felt it.

It being the "encouragement" rolling off of Gabrielle, in waves, in the form of her pulsed Veela thrall, aimed directly at Hermione. The tidal swell of thrall caused Hermione to nearly buckle, feeling the carnal intoxication, as it pulsed through her bloodstream.

"Oh my God!" Gasped Hermione, stunned as arousal hit her, causing a clenching sensation between her legs. "Holy Merlin, Gabrielle...that's so...!"

Another wave of thrall, and Hermione actually shuddered, and stopped talking. She closed her eyes, gasping, her body trembling with newfound desire. "Gaby!" Hermione rasped, and looking up towards the Veela. The Veela looked so much like Fleur at tis moment, eyes wild, and full of lust, but different in that she looked profoundly uncomfortable with these feelings.

"More?" She asked, in a low, breathy voice.

"No! I...I mean, that's not really necess- ohhhh!" The Golden Girl doubled over, the intense wave thrall intensifying. Desire raged through her body, causing the area between her legs to moisten, immediately. She tried to gain control of her body, as the visuals of her and Gabrielle Delacour engaged in lavicious acts burned across her mind. It didn't help that she didn't really want to regain control.

Gaby crossed the room, and grabbed her, gently. "Come, dear sister," She said softly, as she led Hermione towards her bed. It was draped with a similar see-through silk that adorned her own robes. It was so soft...and she felt like she wanted to touch it.

Soft. The material on Gaby's body, not the material on the bedpost...

"I...I'm a little nervous, 'ermione, I'm not going to lie."

Hermione took slow even breaths, calming her combustible body. "I think that's only natural, Gaby, I mean...you've only known me as your big sister's wife, all these years..."

"No. You don't make me nervous, 'ermione...far from it." The younger Veela's awkwardness disappeared, momentarily, as she gave Hermione a look reeking of...utter want. Her eyes were turning from black, to early flecks of red, before she closed her eyes, and continued speaking. "I make myself nervous, actually. I'm...inexperienced, 'ermione...:

Hermione's hand and shoulder were on fire where Gaby was touching her, as she led her to her bed. She spoke soft and melodically, "It makes me nervous zat you will be ze one to make me...a woman. Right before I become immortal, never being able to feel such pleasures of the flesh, again..."

Arriving at her bed, she turned Hermione around, and leaned her backwards. She pushed, slightly, so that she was lying flat on her back, looking up at the breathtaking Veela. Gaby looked down, taking in Hermione's labored breathing, and she seemed to hold her breath in turn. Her eyes roamed up and down Hermione's body.

"You see, 'ermione, It iz not often zat La Veela Prêtresse iz allowed to be so sinful..."
She reached down, and began to gently unfasten Hermione's robes, her hands shaking slightly.

"Are you being sinful, Gabrielle?" Hermione asked, heavily.

"Mmmm..." She mused, as she removed the last of Hermione's clothing. "Merde!" Gaby said, openly staring at Hermione's body, brazenly.

"What?" Hermione asked, as Gaby's hand trembled, resting on Hermione's still toned stomach.

"Ohh, Je désir votre beau corps, 'ermione!" Gaby gasped. With one wave, she spelled her own robes away, altogether. They were now both completely naked, on Gaby's bed, and Hermione found herself underneath her Mate's younger sister. "Your body...your incredible body, 'ermione...I never imagined." She hovered over the older woman, and there was no turning back, now. They were both without their clothing, staring at one another's forms.

Naked.

Preparing to have sex...

Sex...to get pregnant.

Hermione winced. Pregnant, with the seed other than that of her rightful Mate's...

Gaby laughed, nervously. "Are you still zinking of me as zat 8-year-old girl you first met at your ecole, 'ermione? Well…dear 'ermione, what to do? If zere was any ozzer way...but ze ripple in time iz specific..."

"I know, I know all of this, Gabrielle...it doesn't make it any easier...!" She huffed. She looked at Gaby's wounded expression, and touched her face, gently. She added softly, "...or harder, for that matter." Gaby's expression lightened, and she smiled at the Golden Girl.

Hermione sighed. "Gaby, you are beautiful, intelligent, amusing, and so ...desirable. You are all of those things. But you are not...my Fleur. I'm sorry. This is just...hard for me to get adjusted to, all of a sudden. " Hermione looked down.

Gaby had a strange look pass across her face. "Alors, tell me zen: I can actually see how 'ard your nipples are, right now, poking towards me…and I can see zem.." Gaby licked her lips. "Zey make me know, you want to do zinful zings, you know..." The hand on her stomach trailed upwards. "More zan just your "duty," possibly? Maybe a little?"

Gaby pulsed Hermione with a dose of thrall, causing her to tremble.

"Do you want me to... kiss zem, 'ermione? Suck on zem, and nurse? Ze way you have my sister do it, to you?"

Hermione didn't register walking over to Gabrielle, or laying down on her bed, or even the first layers of Gaby removing her clothes. But she , or rolling underneath Fleur Delacours' little sister…but there she was.

Guilty as sin.

She registered, finally, what La Veela Prêtresse had just said. "Wait - how did you know about that?" She said, angrily.

Gaby looked at her darkly. "We know what we must do...all of us, 'ermione. And while my beloved big sister hates zis, what I will be doing to you...she knows what iz at stake. " Gaby licked her lips, and continued to move her hands upwards, gently stroking Hermione's breasts, lightly. "She told me what you like. What turnz you on. She told me 'ow to...fuck you." Her fingertips ghosted across Hermione's right breast, harder, this time.

She leaned over Hermione, her blonde hair covering her eyes that were desperate. "Kiss me, 'ermione..."

Hermione looked at the scared woman above her, and put her best Gryffindor forward. She leaned her head upwards, and met the younger woman's lips, connecting them together, with a deep, intense kiss. Warmpth spread across Hermione's body; for being so unnatural, it strangely felt like coming home.

Gaby gasped at the sensation, and Gabrielle inadvertently released another pulse of thrall, causing the muggle-born witch to writhe in her grasp.

"Fuck, Gaby…just…oh, Merlin….just do something to me, right now!" Hermione demanded. "Just..." Hermione's body, confused, and out of sorts... craved release, and was burning with total desire, despite its perplexed state.

Gaby, for her part, was feeling desire and carnal lust for the first time in her young life, and was not handling it well. She had eyes that converted completely to red, and willed her teeth and claws not to elongate.

Instead, she husked, "Gladly, 'ermione, dear sister…"

Gaby closed her mouth around the hardened nipple, and began to tease it, with her tongue. Hermione shuddered with the deliciousness of it all…it was familiar, like she was making love with Fleur…but not. Her hands dug into the satin sheets, gripping them. Gaby began to massage the other breast, while she sucked Hermione's first nipple, determined.

Without lifting her head, she purred, "Do you want me to nurse you, 'ermione? Like you have my sister do?"

"I….Gaby, I..." Her head fell back, however, when she felt another pulse of thrall hit her, and she could only arch her back upwards, instead.

Hermione desperately lifted her breast towards the beautiful woman above her, whose mouth was demanding more from her with every suckle. As she felt her milk let down, and listened to Gabrielle Delacour swallow it down her throat, murmuring how good she tasted, Hermione felt a little sick to her stomach. She held her tongue, opting not to say anything aloud.

She couldn't help her body's physiologic response, however, and how hard her opening was beginning to clench, from the aggressive ministrations and wanton moans coming from Gabrielle above her. She pulled off Hermione's nipple, giving a satisfied thrum when she saw how red and angry-appearing she had made the nipple. Looking at the pebbled nub while she spoke, rather than meeting her eyes, she asked Hermione, "do you understand why you are here, 'ermione?"

"To bear you a child. To stay as long as necessary, until I become pregnant...by you." Hermione said, in an automatic and rehearsed voice.

"Zat's right, my dear sister." Her lips moved, to the other side, her mouth greedily finding purchase on the fresh breast, and starting to drain it of its milk.

It was too much for the poor muggle-born witch. The unexpected, but almost instantaneous sensation of a hard oxytocin letdown from Gaby's aggressive breast feeding, which Fleur herself had been rather lax on, lately, due to her hectic schedule... coupled with the nearly toxic doses of thrall she was sending through her in waves, was making Hermione become almost unhinged.

Her voice was nearly primitive. "Oh, fuck! Fuck...Gaby, please…keep sucking me, deep...oh, yes..just like that. Oh, fuck…"

The refined professor gripped into the blond tresses of the younger sister of her mate, who looked like she hadn't aged a day. Gaby growled, smug with satisfaction, and rutted her pelvis, until it had wedged between Hermione's legs. Her eyes were completely red, similar to Fleur's during their heavy sex sessions. Hermione was growing wetter by the minute.

Gaby's actions were becoming more frenzied. "You taste so..fucking delicious, 'ermione! I can't 'elp but to wonder…what does ze rest of you taste like?"

Hermione spread her legs wider, her need palpable. "Gaby..." She croaked.

The blonde Veela chuckled. "I zink you want me to taste you, almost az badly as I want to taste you...my dear salacious minx of a sister... oui?"

As Gaby began to pepper a trail of small kisses down Hermione's chest, towards the direction of ther tightly shaved mound, she hummed her approval .Gaby hovered above her mound, and Hermione could feel her hot breath, just teasing her.

"Please!" Begged Hermione. "Stop … teasing. I need..."

"What do you need, 'ermione?"

"I need...need...your mouth, on me!" She gasped. "Please..."

Gaby was drowning in her desire...Hermione was wet…so wet. She knew why Fleur craved this woman, so much. So proper, for the world...but so nasty, in their bed, in private. Who would ever expect the lust that prim Professor Granger was capable of? The slave to physical desire that she could be reduced to, by the touch of a Veela?

It was intoxicating, and Gaby was hooked.

For poor Hermione, it was a though she felt her mate's thrall…but her body was confused. She gritted her teeth, her stomach upset. It felt like Fleur, but it wasn't Fleur. Her confused body was going crazy with desire; it wanted its mate to relieve the pressure...the sexual desire; the need.

"'ermione," Gaby gestured. "You know I 'ave to fuck you wiz my Veela self…to get you pregnant, oui?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes."

"But I am not going to do so, yet. You know why?"

"No….?"

"Because I want a little time…to just be wiz you, you and me….girl to girl, first. I've never wanted zat before, wiz anyone, really. But I want it, wiz you...sister. I want to make love, to you..."

She then laid her mouth directly on Hermione's clit, and began to chew it, causing the Golden Girl to buck underneath her, muttering between ministrations, "…over and over, until you forget your own name…"

Hermione gasped, at the sloshing noises her opening was making, between her legs.

Gaby merely lapped it all up, then continued. "Until you are completely spent from making love with me, as women…then I will impale you, with my Veela hardness, and knot in you.."

Hermione cried out, feeling Gaby's four fingers enter her roughly as she continued to suck on her hardened clit. She pounded, in and out, and she had no words, but simply bucked her pelvis, rolling her eyes to the back of her head.

"Mmmm…so wet, Hermione! I was worried you wouldn't be able to do zis…I guess I was wrong…" She continued sucking and circling Hermione's clit, as she entered and withdrew, entered and withdrew...

Hermione fought down the sudden urge to throw up, again. This was so wrong…SO wrong. But as Gaby pistoned in and out of her widening hole, she realize it felt so right. So fucking amazing...

"Harder, Gaby…"

"Oh, yes, my nazty sister, yes! You want to fornicate…you want me to get you off….."

Hermione couldn't resist, as she felt the tightness coil, and Gaby's thrall was going out of control around her. Her mouth was over her own, and she was giving her a sloppy kiss, while she pistoned her fingers in and out of her hole, nearing climax. Their bodies were sweating, slightly, and their desperate breaths filled the room.

"Come for me, 'ermione." Gaby gasped. "Just like you do for my sister! Make for me the sounds you make for my sister..."

As Hermione's hole clenched down, and she let out the first moan of what would be many that evening, she spit out, "it will never be like the ones I do for your sister Gaby...never."

Gaby tried to ignore the nagging hurt that those words caused, as she watched the Golden Girl come undone underneath her. Gaby thought Hermione's climax might be the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, in her entire life; watching as it hit her, hard, in that very moment—and knowing she was responsible for it.

She wanted that, over and over.

XOXOXOXXO

For a woman known for her keen intellect and her ability to think and deliver under pressure, the fact she was reduced to an object of lust and want for her body - not her mind - was very unusual for her. It was becoming rapidly apparent just how much Gaby wanted her, on a daily basis, over the next few days.

Hermione tried to bite down her inner turmoil, as her soul cried for her mate. She grimaced. She was there for one reason, and one reason only: to get pregnant.

To bear another yet another child—one created by she and Gabrielle; and time was running out. Gabrielle was destined, soon, to become completely immortal, as the final trappings of her burden as La Veela Pretesse were becoming more and more apparent, everyday. And the final sacrifice of the calling would soon be on Gaby as well…very soon she would fully actualize as the omniscient Veela, and once she became immortal, she would ironically become… infertile.

The universe was pretty smart about implementing its own checks and balances.

XOXOXXOXOXO

They laid together, wrapped up in Gaby's red satin sheets that Hermione thought might have been the softest things she had ever felt. Despite the enormity of Gabrielle's bedroom – honestly, they could probably fit the majority of the Delacour-Granger residence in just her bedroom – it didn't feel cold or impersonal, especially as she snuggled up to the younger Veela. Gaby was purring as she wrapped her limbs around her sister in law. The blonde thought to herself how decadent it felt, to lay in bed , all day, with her ma—

She stopped those traitorous thoughts.

Not. Mate. Not mate...

She was laying in bed with Hermione. Hermione, her Sister-In-Law! The mate to her older sister, not her. The beautiful Englishwoman was here on borrowed time, and only for the purposes of procreating , nothing more. She wasn't here because she wanted to be, and she had to keep reminding herself of that fact.

But that was getting harder and harder for her to do, as time wore on.

Up until now, Gaby herself had always been the good girl, never feeling urges of any kind...not even with her sister's patient lessons on how to kiss. But something had changed in her, the day Hermione arrived. She realized how unfair it was that she had given up her youth, her life, and her "normal" happiness, and never experienced any passion or life first! And now, all these changes in her body and mind were happening, regardless of if she wanted them to or not.

But when she looked at the Golden Girl, who was at present lying next to her, naked, and smiling…somehow, it didn't seem so damn horrible. It felt like she was alive, for the first time.

On one such mornings, they laid in bed together, being lazy. La Veela Prêtresse was amused.

"You are so very beautiful, my dear 'ermione…" She whispered.

Was it so wrong, really, to want just a little tiny bit of normality? Gaby wondered, frustrated. She finally found the meaning of life and love—drowning in the brown eyes of her Sister-in-Law. Hermione caused things to catalyze within her body; caused her soul to rage; caused her body to sing. The first time she was brought to a climax at the now very experienced hands of the English witch…there were no words, just a singular purpose and expression of being alive. She had never been naked with someone, literally or figuratively, and Hermione was just so gentle with her…

…except for the times she wasn't, which was okay, as well…

One thing Gabrielle Delacour knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, was that she wasn't sure she'd have the strength to release her, when the time came.

They had lost count of the numbers of orgasms that had passed between them, as they had sex over and over, pausing only for cat naps and light snacks. After Gaby's thirst had been sated, somewhat, they talked for a long time. Gaby found it so easy to talk to Hermione...she was an amazing friend, and listener. She found herself explaining (albeit while tracing patterns across her naked body with her fingertips) to Hermione in great detail of the events that led them to their present situation.

"So, you call these things...ripples? What are those, Gaby?"

"It iz where the timeline has more than one possible path...and usually, I just observe events happening as a result. Par Exemple: Wizard A opts to steal ze car, so path so-and-so results; whereas, if he had gone to buy a Cafe-au-lait, instead, a different path would happen. Most times, the timeline is set in stone; I only see zees "ripples," every so often. And itz rare -meaning, never- zat I am ze the cause or influence of how the time line proceeds..."

"What caused you to notice this particular ripple?" She asked, as she ran her hands through Gaby's blonde locks, that felt so similar her own mates tresses.

"Well, for one, it was 'uge! And for ze second...well, ze fact my niece was involved, was an immediate attention getter..."

Hermione tensed, again, just like she had when Fleur told her, the first time. It was impossible to think that her Eva, her baby girl, could be the cause of such evil behavior, in the world. So determinidly evil, and the source of so much suffering and pain. The absoulte anthesis of what she had spent her entire life fighting. She sniffled. If having a baby, outside of wedlock was the only way to assure she would never become that evil creature, than so be it.

Hermione fought off the tears. "Are you sure? There's no other way, Gaby, to prevent-"

Gaby cut her off, furious. "Of course not! You zink I made zis up? Zat I would choose to betray my dearest older sister, by fornicating wiz 'er chosen mate?" Gaby huffed. "It iz ze only way!"

"It just seems, so bizarre, to me, I suppose. That this is the solution..." The brunette's eyes cast around the room, nerviously, refusing to look at the etetherial blonde fuming in front of her.

Gaby wasn't sure why exactly she was so angry; was she angry that Hermione doubted her wisdom, and insight? Or was she angry for a darker reason...that, perhaps, she was becoming addicted to the taste and smell of her sister's mate? Was she coveting her, for herself? The French Seer shook her head, forcing the feelings of desire and longing out of her mind, and instead, calmly answered her sister-in-law's question.

"It iz not so strange, if you zink about it. You and I were responses to a ripple, long ago, as well, 'ermione. Zink..."

Hermione furrowed her brow, in concentration. "No...you can't mean...Fleur? Well, that's ridicious! Fleur Delacour is one of the most decorated Aurors, a devoted public servant! A loyal wife-"

Gaby put her hand up, not really interested in hearing Hermione wax poetic about her...competition. A bit more grouchy than she intended, she replied, "Oui, Madame. She iz all of zose zings...indeed. But you can't deny ze darkness, zat you see inside her soul, from time to time...can you?"

Hermione opened her mouth, then shut it, apprasingly.

Gaby smiled. She traced her fingertips, gently, across Hermione's naked chest. "Your breasts, 'ermione, are so..." She leaned down, and kissed the swell of Hermione's chest.

She felt her chin being redirected. "Gaby...?" Hermione's eyes were conflicted. "Please tell me ... the rest."

Gaby huffed. "Fine, zen, ze breasts will 'ave to wait, I suppose..."

Hermione ran her fingers through the flaxen platinum blonde hair, so similar to hair she felt every night at home. She thought, with a twinge of guilt. "I have to know the rest, Gaby. I have to know this is legitimate."

Gaby nodded. She expected nothing less from the smartest witch of the era, after all. "So, Fleur could 'ave been on a much different path, but there were two ripples on 'er behalf...me, and you." She pointed between the two of them. "Vous et moi, 'ermione. You and I. As I child, I gave her someone that was hers; you do ze same, now, as an adult."

"So, naturally, you get a two for one if you combine us, into one being." Hermione mused. "Athough, how do you know it had to be a baby?"

"It was ze only option on ze timeline - ze ONLY one. "

"I am having a baby..."

"We are. We are 'aving a little girl, 'ermione."

Hermione was troubled. "That's a lot of responsibility on this child, as a burden...to be her sisters' keeper..."

Gaby laughed. "I wouldn't worry too much, 'ermione. It iz a job she will relish...I promize you, zat." Gaby wisely opted not to disclose to Hermione just how close their relationship would become.

"I just don't understand how this could happen. I mean, my values...Fleur's values...how could Eva..." The Golden Girl's voice trailed off.

"Really, 'ermione? Do I need to tell a member of Ze Golden Trio, 'ow zee world works, n'est-ce pas? You know zat people are complicated. Zere is good and evil in all of us...alll of us. And wizout ze ripple effects, for Eva, she was so unsteady, growing up. It was daunting, to grow up, zee first born, in zee shadow of two such famous and beloved parents, 'ermione."

"But we never-"

"In zee ripple, 'ermione, life is very different for Eva and Fleur. It iz a tough zing, to be ze alpha of a Clan, and Fleur was incredibly tough on Eva." The slight grimace didn't escape Hermione's wise eyes. Gaby said quietly, "She desperately sought Fleur's approval, nevair quite getting it..."

"Well, Fleur was a little vauge, about how Eva went down that path...do you remember?"

"Mais oui." She said, grimly. "Fleur waz ze catalyst, I zink...wizout ze influence of ze ripple, 'ermione, her natural course waz...not good." She hugged the older woman, knowing the pain this was causing. "Well, from ze beginning, several things would have been noticeably different...wizout ze ripple, she was sorted into Slytherin- sorted for 'er ambition, 'er desire to exceed 'er famous mozzer. Zere, she made several questionable friends and contacts zat would have some bad influence early on; but she was able to fight her darker urges, still."

Gaby sighed. "It'z a bit fuzzy, but I see in zis ripple..zere was zis big blowout between Fleur and Eva, after graduation, when Eva waz first beginning at ze ministry. In Fleur's defense, Eva's arrogance and overconfidence engendered risks, zere were many causalities when zere should 'ave been none...and 'er squad died. Fleur took it badfly, and felt Eva did not take eet seriously enough, and chose to discipline 'er, Veela style. She caused Eva a lot of...injury."

"Oh, no!" Hermione gasped.

Gaby nodded. "Mais, oui. She told her how badly she fucked up, être vénère, when she was first starting out...Fleur was very, very 'ard on 'er. She took it very badly. Fleur broke 'er spirit, az well az 'er body. She 'ad no way to blow off steam, no one to turn to...Fleur waz so angry wiz 'er! Some of ze classmates she kept up wiz, introduced 'er to Dark Magic, for ze first time, in 'er desire to distance 'erself from Fleur. Like every zing, she excelled at it, and took it on, more and more. Until it took 'er over, consumed 'er, and soon she waz working az a double agent for ze forces zat will rise in ze future, dark knights and Deat Eaterz, all of zem."

"Criminal by night, Auror by day."

"Oui. Soon, she caught ze attention of ze masterminds of ze rising movement... you remember ze Mendoncia twins?"

Hermione grimaced. "Don't remind me."

"Well, Nathlee and Eva were peas in a pod. Zey finally met a challenge, in each ozzer...and quickly became very bad influences on one anozzer. It would frighten you, Madame, to see ze evil zat zere minds would come up wiz...it was mind boggling! It would only take two short decades for darkness to overtake ze world. It would descend into slavery, darkness, and very dark magic. Zey were way ahead of everyone else, and no law enforcement waz able to stop zem." She looked at Hermione pointidly. "And zis time, zere would be no "Golden Trio" to rise, and save ze day."

Hermione swallowed. "And our baby prevents this?"

"Oui, our bebe is quite magical, in zat way."

Hermione had an unreadable expression on her face. "Gabriellle...How does it turn out, for our baby, in the long run?"

" Fidèles?"

"Who is Fidèles?" Asked Hermione, confused.

"Our bebe, dearest 'ermione. Zat iz she…. Fidèles." Gaby had a wistful smile on her face. "I would zay she iz zee most like you, 'ermione Granger, of all your children. She iz kind, and filled wiz a sense of justice; she iz adored."

"Does she end up happy?"

"Oui, most definitely."

XOXOXOXOXOX

Dining Room of the Delacour-Grangers, Paris, Many Years Later.

"Zat iz … really fucked up, Eva." Nathlee said, with a sigh.

Eva had finished recounting the story, not holding back a thing, including their dark role in the future that necessitated the end of her parents, eventually. "Yep…its pretty amazing, you know, the idea that the two of us would be capable of such awful things, right, Nat?"

She looked at her dinner companion, whose eyes were distant and unfocused. She nudged her, hard.

"OW! What waz zat for?"

"I'm talking here…its polite to at least feign interest."

"About doing good?" Nathlee sighed. "Look, I'm not going to pretend zat I'm someone I'm not…I struggle, Eva. I struggle, to zis day. I have to wake up every morning, and convince myself to take zat medicine, and to chose the light instead of the dark…" she gave her friend a pained expression. "…and I'm not going to pretend it iz eazy for me, because it iz not."

"No, I never thought it was, Nat."

They regarded each other.

"So…let me ask you this, Nathlee Mendocia…you're clearly a bit more…hmm. More 'virtue-challenged,' than others…and yet here we are. I'm the youngest elected President, and you're my Chief of Staff…and we've expanded civil rights more than any other administration, wizard or muggle…"

"Damn straight!" Nat snapped, rasing her beer to her lips.

"And you've saved my life…"

"Three times!" Grumbled the older Veela.

"Yes." Eva smiled, calmly. "You have saved my life. And you ask for nothing, other than to continue your job. You've never asked for a raise—

"I'm independently wealthy, Eva. Zat would be stupid to draw a salary."

Eva continued. "You've never asked for a promotion, more recognition, more power…"

"Meh! I'm 'appy enough 'aving you ze face of ze operation. People inexplicibly seem to enjoy looking at your face, for some reason that escapes me."

"More glory…"

Nathlee huffed. "I keep ze President alive, on a daily basis! A good, decent President who works 'arder zan anyone before 'er! What glory do I need, ozzer zan to keep ze President alive, to do 'er job? "Glory" would get in ze way of doing my job, Eva." She said, getting worked up.

" If its so hard for you, why do you do it?" Eva asked, equally determined. "Your job…your dedication. You're tireless battles for the common good…which you claim is an act, essentially."

Nathlee looked at her, incredulously. "Are you really asking me why? Why do I fucking make friendship bracelets and put sunshine up my arse instead of rape and pillage, like I want to?" She laughed bitterly. "Are you really asking me zat, after all zes years?"

"I guess I am."

"I evolved. I live in zis job, so zat you will live, Eva." She looked at her friend, letting it sink in. "I am not going to trust some straight-laced, flip-flop wearing… child to take care of you. "

"Beg pardon?"

"You know, zey claim you graduated first in your class from zat damn 'ogwarts, but I am going to 'ave to audit ze records…how can a valedictory student be so damn stupid?" She bristled. "Let me spoon feed you, zen…."

Nathlee rubbed her temples, eyes closed, doing biofeedback.

"Azkaban. I do it because of Azkaban."

"Nathlee, you have been a dedicated civil servant for 15 plus years…no one is sending you back to Azkaban."

She let off a long line of French Swear Words, after which, she finally spoke. "No, stupidhead! Because YOU came to Azkaban. You! You stuck your neck out….in your fledgling administration….and I know it was one of ze most unpopular decisions you ever made; I know. " Their eyes met, in understanding. "So I decided to pay you back, in spades. To prove those ignorant, unworthy people wrong! I had to do it. Not for me …for you."

"For me?" Eva clarified.

"Yes, little one, for you. Because you saw my potential as something more than a … killing machine, or a mercenary. You made me believe, because you believed…you made me zink I could be somezing ozzer zan a criminial, if I would work for it. Your faith...it waz...and iz... contagious."

"Well, I think that debt has been long settled, Nat—"

"No!" She interrupted fiercely. "Until the day I die, I will continue to prove them wrong, and to prove you were right!" Gone was the dispassionate facade she wore on a daily basis. Now the full passion of Nathlee Mendoncia was on display- this was something she bought into, and believed. "You are so amazing, Eva, and it iz so effortless for you, don't you see? I envy you, sometimes! You make it look eazy, Madame President. You outsmarted me as a bebe, in your Mozzer's womb…"

"Merlin's nutsack, please tell me you don't believe that urban legend, too?"

Nathlee's finger was in her friends' face in a snap, and her eyes flashed Veela red. Her voice had an edge to it that Eva hadn't heard in years.

She spoke sternly. "I waz zere, little girl, don't forget zat! It waz not your Mozzer's magic – she couldn't 'ave crossed ze barrier, Eva! It was you…you did it. Even zen, you were a natural leader. Don't you dare say ozzerwise, and don't you sell yourself short. You 'ave greatness in you, Eva, and it iz my job to protect zat greatness."She took a breath, calming her inner Veela, and her eyes returned to normal. "So I will support your crazy equality policies, and your financial agenda, and your constant bailouts of ze education system…and all ze stupid zings you do zat no one else 'as ze balls to do! I will ensure you live to fight anozzer day, for ze rest of my days, Eva. Period."

Eva had tears in her eyes. "Do you hear yourself? You are all these things…in spite of yourself. All the more reason that you're a true hero, Nat." She squeezed her friend's hand.

She grimaced. "I am no hero!" She spat. "Hero…hah! A hero iz someone like your mozzer – someone who is good, and decent…who makes ze right choice, when no one iz looking, naturally. Zat is not me. I am no hero, and I'm far from selfless."

Eva looked at her with an amused grin, causing her longtime friend to scowl, deeper.

"Now, what?" She finally broke, annoyed.

"Well, you've got to get yourself sorted, on what makes a hero. My Maman was no saint – but when the time came, she made the right choice. Just like you do, everyday. And it didn't come naturally for her, by the way."

"Speaking of which, finish ze story, before zat overly 'appy wife of yourz makes it home."

XOXOXXO

Eva dutifully recounted the highlights that led to the creation of Eva's someone special.

"So it is my understanding, that Aunt Gaby and Hermione finally got pregnant on the night Hermione introduced Gaby to the pleasures of…um, anal lovemaking…"

"What? Too much information! "

"Really, Nat? We are Veela! Give me a break! We fight, or fuck…"

"or make friendship bracelets, az in ze case of your wife." She added, sniggering.

Eva gave her the stink eye. "Anyway, before I was interrupted, the Veela transformed, and made love to Hermione. But in the throes of passion, it was too much for the fledgling Veela, and Gaby….bit her."

"What?" Nathlee said, utterly stunned. "She claimed your mozzer?"

"She did."

"But…zat iz impossible…Fleur 'ad already claimed 'er!"

"I know, I know."

"ive never 'eard of such a zing…."

"Well, now you have. My mother was claimed by two Veela. But in her defense, her one true love was always my mother, Fleur."

Nat was silent.

"But Gaby was infatuated with my mother… she continued to claim her, over and over."

"What?"

Eva nodded. "She was looking for any way to break the bond – to keep Hermione. She was desperate. But it caused a cascade of relactions in her body to happen. She always knew, I think, that it would result in her demise. There was too much confusion and chaos in her mind and body over the betrayal of her bond. It caused a toxic residue that was left behind, and she never let on to us, how sick she really was – even up to the end."

"She died of cancer." Nat said, reciting the paper's notation.

"That's the official cause , yes. A very rare stratified squamous rhabodmyosarcoma of the cardiac muscle. The only one of its kind – so rare, she donated her organs to some Muggle college in boston."

"Always a scholar, your mozzer…"

"indeed she was. Anyway, shortly after Fideles and I got together, my Maman gave herself permission to die, I am convinced. And you know the rest, with my other mother."

"Veela cannot live wizout zeire non-Veela mate, for long."

"That's correct. As you know, it generally takes several months, for the bond to sever, and the Veela to waste away. My mothers' had an unusually strong bond, and it seems to take effect after a few weeks. My mother didn't even last a single month."

The dinner table was silent.

Nat finally broke the loaded quiet, by raising her wine glass. "To Fleur and Hermione."

"To Fleur and Hermione."

They tapped their glasses together, whispering a reverent Salut! And drank. The calm was broken by a familiar, happy voice with a lot of scuffling and noise in general.

"Oh, you're both here! That's fantastic!" Squealed Fideles. "It's perfect…I 'ad to bring 3 little guys 'ome wiz me, zey were stymied by ze footwork of ze elusive Waltz! Come in to ze living foyer, now, si'l vous plait! Now they'll each 'ave a dance partner!"

Eva broke out in laughter, hearing Nat's rather vociferious grumblings on the topic. Somehow, it seemed right, however. All seemed right in the world, as the two friends got up and headed to the living room.

"Damn you, Delacour, and all your 'appiness..."

THE END.