A/N: I wasn't really sure if anyone would read this because it's such an uncommon pairing. I'm glad you guys like the idea, and hopefully, you'll like the story. Warning: filler chapter ahead.

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Haircuts and Surprising Mail

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Gabrielle Delacour was in a bad mood. A very bad mood.

Today had been the absolute worst of her life. And with her sister, there had been many.

"What's the matter?"

She looked up to see her best friend Zoe looking at her with concern filling her big brown eyes. She sighed in frustration. "You would think that after being at this school for over six years now, the teachers would stop calling me Fleur."

"Who did it this time?" Zoe asked.

"Madame Charisse." she replied, referring to their ancient librarian.

"Well, if you didn't look so much like her…"

Gabrielle stopped and whirled on her friend. "Like that's my doing? I can't help it that we look so much alike."

"Well, maybe you could change your hair or something." Zoe suggested.

Gabrielle plucked at a strand of her long, silvery blonde hair. "I've been wanting to cut it for ages, but my mother won't hear of it."

"Well, what if it weren't your fault?"

She noted the look of mischief in her friend's eyes and knew that it would work.

"Let's do it."

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"Gabrielle, your hair!"

She braced herself for the coming blast of her roommate Catherine, but it never came. Instead, she just continued to stare at her glumly. Catherine's hair was long, jet black, and so curly she couldn't even put it up. She had always loved Gabrielle's hair and told her so numerous times.

"I like it." she said simply.

"Me, too." Zoe announced, plopping down onto her bed.

As soon as the decision had been made to cut her hair, Gabrielle had pulled Zoe up to their dorm room to get it over with. Within seconds, Zoe had used her wand to shop off at least ten inches of Gabrielle's hair. It now fell to just below her collarbone and she loved it. Catherine had come in while they were still examining it in the mirror.

"You look older." Zoe said, peering at her critically. "And you definitely don't look like Fleur anymore."

She studied her image in the mirror once more. Zoe was right. It was mainly her hair that had always caused people to mistake her for her older sister. Not that she was anywhere as beautiful as her. She wasn't tall and lanky like Fleur. Instead, she was very petite and much curvier. They had the same enormous blue eyes. But Fleur's always looked like what people called doe eyes, Gabrielle had always though her just made her look like a little kid. She wasn't nearly the beauty her sister was. Her lips were fuller, her cheekbones higher, and her complexion paler. Not to mention the freckles across her nose. It just wasn't fair.

Of course what she thought wasn't the opinion of everyone else who knew her. Fleur's beauty was more traditional, but nowhere near as striking.

Gabrielle had resigned herself to having one thing her sister didn't. She was good at Quidditch. Actually, she was great at Quidditch and wanted to play professionally. No boring job in a bank for her.

"What are you going to tell your mother?" Catherine interrupted her thoughts. She was still upset about Gabrielle being so careless with her looks, and still being so gorgeous. "Your mother is going to kill you."

"Already taken care of." Zoe announced. "Gaby just sent a letter to her mother saying she was doing potions homework and singed her hair irreparably. Cutting it was the only option unfortunately."

Gabrielle frowned at her friend. "I've told you a million times not to call me Gaby." Zoe pretended she hadn't heard her.

"You seriously think she'll buy that?" Catherine asked.

"Why not? And it's already done anyway." Gabrielle said.

Catherine muttered and began doing her homework. Zoe made a face at her, causing Gabrielle to giggle.

Two hours into their homework, Zoe threw her pencil down on the floor in frustration. "Tell me again why we're taking classes in the summer."

"Because you cut two weeks worth of Potions and failed your exams." Catherine said, never looking up from her book.

"At least we have to be here." Zoe snapped back. "We're not here by choice. Unlike some people." she added under her breath.

Gabrielle shook her head as another round of arguing started. After six years, it was getting a bit old.

A squawking sound interrupted their arguing and all three girls rushed to the window.

"What's an owl doing coming at this time of day?" Catherine wondered aloud.

"My guess would be bringing a letter." Zoe responded dryly.

The arguing resumed and Gabrielle watched the owl fly closer to their window. Obviously, the letter was for one of them. Once it perched on the sill, she untied the parchment and saw her name in unfamiliar handwriting.

With her roommates embroiled in their yelling, she took the opportunity to slip out and walked to the gardens surrounding the school. Settling herself on her favorite bench beneath the willow tree, she tore open the envelope.

To her great shock, it was from Harry Potter.

It was all she could do not to fall over as she read the letter. It wasn't anything shocking or particularly noteworthy, but still se her heart fluttering. And that was just silly. She wasn't eight years old with her first crush anymore and she wasn't twelve and writing in her diary about dancing with him at her sister's wedding. She was sixteen years old and knew that there was nothing to be getting all excited about.

The letter was nice and simple, thanking her for the birthday card she'd sent him and inquiring about how she was doing.

She flushed at the mention of the card. She always sent him one. Along with Christmas cards, a graduation card, and a card to congratulate him on getting into the Auror training program. She had even written him a letter after he defeated Voldemort to make sure he was alright. She remembered, in vivid detail, the embarrassing way she had gushed about his bravery and even calling him her hero.

Instinctively, she blushed at the memory. Why she hadn't melted into a pile of humiliation when she saw him at Bill and Fleur's wedding, she had no idea.

After every letter, Harry had always sent her back a thank you card. They were identical. Small white cards with the same thing written on them in black ink. He probably had a lifetime's supply worth. She recalled Fleur telling her that he received letters almost daily from fans and well-wishers.

She had always thought it was sweet that he took the time to send them to everyone who wrote him. But kind of wished they were more personal.

Now it was. Harry had actually taken the time to sit down and write her a letter. Not a card, but a real, honest to goodness letter. Yes, it was slightly formal. But despite how long they had known each other, they didn't know each other that well.

She decided right then to write him back. He had taken the time to write her, the least she could do was return the favor. Anyone would have done the same thing.

She went up to her room to answer him, wondering the whole way what she could possibly come up with that was interesting enough to tell Harry Potter.

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A/N: Told you.