AN: Hello dears. Here's a new chapter. I had a lot of inspiration leading up to today, so I hope you enjoy. If it seems to be going quickly, there's a reason. The story will slow down significantly as we go and we get into the details.

- Pyrdiu Lefquo

***HCTHtM***

/

Mr. Harry Potter,

It would please me greatly if you were to join me in the second car's third compartment on the left, so that we might discuss matters of personal importance to the both of us.

I will have one companion of mine - Pansy Parkinson - present during discussions to act as a chaperone. If it would not inconvenience you, please bring a friend as well.

If you intend to refuse, please do your best to find me during the school year.

- Draco Malfoy

/

Harry blinked a few times in confusion. The script was neat and elegant, the tone was proper and professional, and it just seemed like something a person like Malfoy would write. Harry shook his head, then ran a hand down his face in minor irritation. 'Why couldn't Malfoy just come talk instead of sending a letter?' Harry wondered.

The embarrassed boy handed the letter off to Hermione and grinned when her eyes rose and met his. "You know you're coming with me, right?" He stated, one blonde eyebrow raised.

"Of course I'm going to come be your chaperone, Harry." Hermione responded, nose in the air, as if offended. "Just who do you think I am?"

"My best friend, obviously." Harry laughed as he hugged the girl, getting close enough to dodge flailing limbs and squeezing tightly enough to make Hermione wheeze.

***HCTHtM***

Ten minutes later, Harry and Hermione (after making excuses to Ron and Ginny) were standing outside Draco's compartment. Hermione, seeing Harry's nervousness, rolled her eyes and knocked on the sliding door. "It's Harry and Hermione. Can we come in?"

"You may." A feminine voice from inside said.

Hermione opened the door, then stopped in the doorway. Harry, interested, peeked around her middle, because he wasn't tall enough to look over her shoulder. "Well, doesn't this just beat all?" He said, a light scowl on his face.

The inside of the compartment was nowhere near as drab as the one they'd left behind. It was much bigger, for one. There were two comfortable looking couches across from each other, some chairs scattered through the space, and various tables and surfaces. The luggage area was to the right of the room, separated by a curtain.

Draco was sitting on one of the couches in the middle of the room, Pansy next to him. He said not a word, and in fact didn't even look at Harry, focussing on making up some tea. Pansy, on the other hand, rose and motioned to the couch opposite them.

"Please, sit. I'm Pansy Parkinson. You may call me Pansy for the duration of this meeting."

Harry and Hermione, confused, took their seats. Draco said nothing, but passed a tea cup and some cream and sugar to them. Harry opened his mouth to talk to Draco, but was interrupted by Pansy.

"Harry, you shouldn't talk, since you brought a chaperone. At least, not to Draco. You can address your concerns quietly to your friend, and she will address me. I am speaking on behalf of Draco."

The Potter boy was about to disregard this and talk directly to Draco (to ask what the hell was going on), when Hermione squeezed his leg warningly and shook her head. She had a very serious look on her face.

"On behalf of Harry," Hermione started in a formal tone of voice, "I would like to ask just what is happening here. We were under the impression that Mal… Draco wanted to talk about what happened at and after the World Cup."

Draco nodded, still not speaking. The brunette girl next to him took a sip of her tea, then set it down gently. She looked up at Hermione and said "As neither of you are familiar with pureblood customs, I suppose I'll have to explain briefly the point of this meeting." The girl motioned with her hand to Draco, who pulled out a single Jonquil flower and held it out to Harry, who took it with a small smile.

"Now that Harry has taken his gift, you and I can talk properly, Granger." Pansy smiled tightly, obviously trying very hard to be polite. "This is the first meet and greet of a proper pureblood courtship. Now, being… muggle raised," she took the time to shudder before continuing, "you may wonder why we're talking about courtship after one incident during the summer."

Hermione nodded her head warily, and Harry looked incredulously at Draco, who had the grace to look down embarrassedly. Hermione made a noise of agreement, and was going to respond, but her friend pulled her arm, whispered into her ear, and nodded toward their counterparts, blushing furiously.

Clearing her throat, Hermione asked "Does this have anything to do with Draco's father's misunderstanding before the game?"

Draco nodded, and Pansy hit his knee lightly, warning him against interacting with Hermione. "Yes," she said, still glaring at Draco. "It does. Draco's father did some looking into the 'Devereaux' family of France, hoping to start this process with them in the coming years, but interestingly, there seemed to be no records of a pureblood family with that name."

Draco's head hung defeatedly, and Harry laughed out loud, which earned him as cuffing 'round the head from Hermione.

"Pansy," the bushy haired girl asked, intrigued. "Did Mr. Malfoy find out it was Harry in the top box?"

The Slytherin girl nodded patiently, then replied, "He did, and Draco was unable to convince him that Harry doesn't want to enter into a courtship. This brings us to the current situation."

"B...but I'm a boy!" Harry blurted out, his face beet red and eyes wide as could be, forgetting he wasn't supposed to talk. "How can I-"

"Granger!" Pansy interrupted, with venom in her voice. "Keep him in line! This needs to go well to keep Draco out of trouble, and another infraction will blow this out of the water!" Harry's face reddened in both anger and embarrassment.

Taking a deep, calming breath, the pug-nosed girl continued on with what she was trying to say. "The fact is, Draco's father does not care about such petty things such as gender." She kept her eyes purely on Hermione, though she was very obviously talking to Harry at this point. "We live in a world of magic. Obviously an enterprising homosexual would come up with a way for two men to get pregnant for heirs."

Hermione looked scandalized. "P-p-p-pregnancy?! We haven't even discussed them dating yet, let alone getting one of them pregnant."

"Well, obviously there would be a long courtship, followed by an appropriate betrothal contract and Ball." Pansy's eyes glazed a little in thought as she continued. "There would be a wonderful marriage ritual, Harry would of course be the bride. Wouldn't he just look precious in a wedding dress? He is very girly now, after all."

Hermione raised her hand in front of herself, waving away the notion. "Putting aside how amazing Harry would look in a dress," Harry shot her a look of betrayal, even as Draco snickered. "We would still need to discuss the logistics of this, assuming Harry is even alright with it!"

"Your friend already accepted Draco's flower." Pansy said calmly and slowly, as if talking to a child. "He's already accepted this. All that's left is to, as their chaperones, discuss when and where they are allowed to have private time. Well, private enough, considering we'll be there throughout."

Hermione and Pansy continued talking about where's, when's, and why's of the courtship. Harry and Draco seemed to have no real deciding power about anything of any importance, and if either tried to pipe in, they were shushed by Pansy and told to let the two girls handle everything..

Harry was reeling a little bit, feeling like this day had gone from easygoing (if a little stressful), to an unstoppable sequence of events that he understood little about. Courtships? Betrothals? Did this mean he and Draco were dating? All because he accepted a flower as a gift? As his thoughts turned to Draco, they inevitably turned to the rivalry between them and how even though they'd been relaxed with each other at the World Cup, it was likely over a shared love of quidditch. He wondered how the two of them were supposed to get over three school years of enmity, let alone develop actual romantic feelings for each other. And what Ron would say… Harry shivered lightly and put the thought out of his mind for another day.

It was getting a little dark by the time the 'negotiations' had concluded. Harry had gleaned the following from the conversation:

/

- As the one who accepted the flower from Draco, Harry was to be the one who was courted.

- Harry and Draco were not allowed to be alone together without their chaperones or have sexual contact with each other for any reason.

- They weren't supposed to have any physical contact with each other, except linking arms or hugs sometimes.

- They were supposed to attend Hogsmeade weekends together and take a walk around school grounds at least once a week.

- They were supposed to be nice (or at least civil) to each other's friends.

- Draco was to be some kind of pureblood gentleman and give him presents and stuff.

/

There were a whole bunch of other small rules and stuff, and Hermione -bless her heart- had even written them all down for Harry so he didn't have to remember them right now. It seemed though, that the two boys would be going on supervised dates. But seriously, why would they think to put in stuff about sex? Harry was patently uninterested in participating in that. He was curious, of course, but what teenager wasn't?

The whole thing had taken almost the whole trip, and Harry was surprised to hear the announcement that it was time to get changed and prepare for their arrival. The four of them managed to do so with only minor issues. Pansy had been scandalized that Harry had been rooming with two girls all summer, and hastened out the door with Draco, while Harry just shrugged at Hermione and turned around to get his uniform on.

***HCTHtM***

All in all, the walk to the carriages and the ride to the castle was… a disaster. For some reason, Harry was being forced to hang off Draco's arm ("to mark his claim on you, Harry"), Ron had been spitting mad that Harry had ridden with the two Slytherins, and all the students were whispering behind Harry's back more than ever.

Thankfully though, the four teens had made their way up the walk and into the Great Hall without actual incident. Harry went to take his arm away from Draco's, but the Malfoy scion shook his head and escorted his fellow blonde to a seat at the Gryffindor table. The students already there looked ready to kick up a fuss, but kept quiet for now, curious more than furious.

Harry extricated his arm -finally- from Draco's, and was about to sit down when, out of nowhere, Draco took his hand and kissed the back of it before wishing him good night and walking toward the Slytherin table. Harry felt almost dizzy with the amount of embarrassment he was feeling, and he was sure Hermione -who was standing next to him- could feel the heat radiating from his face. The whispers around him sprang back up with a vengeance.

The blonde boy was able to sit down and get through the sorting without further problems, though he couldn't help peeking over at Malfoy every once in a while. Almost every time he did, he saw Draco looking back. Soon enough, dinner was served, and Harry was pulled into conversation with Hermione and Ron. The topic of conversation could probably be guessed even by a first year.

When dinner was finished, The headmaster stood up and made his beginning of the year announcements. The usual things were covered, where was off-limits, what Mr. Filch had put on the forbidden items list, when they would receive their schedules, etcetera. It was after all of this that the old man dropped the bomb.

"The quidditch cup will not be held this year."

The students exploded into chaotic denials and outrage. Dumbledore let it happen for a minute, then raised his wand. A loud BANG sounded through the hall, and the headmaster finally had the children's attention again.

What followed was an explanation that Hogwarts was hosting the Triwizard Tournament, which excited Harry, but triggered his danger sense for some reason. He felt apprehension, but pushed it out of his mind so he could talk with his friends.

***HCTHtM***

As everyone got up to head to their houses, Harry made small talk with everyone. Hermione was sticking close to him, and Ron must have noticed, because when they'd gotten back to the Gryffindor common room, he pulled Harry off to the side with a bruising grip, and glared at Hermione when she tried to follow.

"Harry, mate, what the hell is going on?" he whispered loudly.

Harry didn't really want to talk about this stuff with Ron, but the ginger was his best friend. Well, his second best friend, Hermione definitely was first. Nevertheless, he sighed and motioned Ron to sit with him in the corner, and shook his head defeatedly when he saw Hermione being herded into another corner by the Gryffindor girls. It looked like there was gonna be no going back into the closet after the events of tonight.

Looking Ron in the eyes, Harry began his attempt to navigate the coming minefield that was his friend's temper. "Ron, do you remember how my life is in danger at least once every year since we started school?" The redhead nodded.

"And you remember how almost every time, there was a long-ish period of emotional strife that starts sometime around October?" Ron nodded again.

"So, you'd agree that this year, should it follow that pattern, should be pretty complicated and unfortunate?"

Ron finally seemed to be cottoning on to what Harry was trying to say. "So, what? It's already getting weird this year?"

Harry made a noise of affirmation, avoiding Ron's gaze in the process. "Yeah, well, y'see…"

"C'mon, Harry, out with it." Ron insisted. "Not like you're turning Dark or anything."

"Ugh, fine." Harry sighed, "But you aren't gonna like it, and you need to be quiet. We're in the common room."

Ron nodded impatiently.

"I-I'm dating Draco."

The taller boy's face clouded, the whole thing taking on a mien of anger, "So it's Draco now, is it?" he ground out, and Harry scrambled to do damage control before Ron could start yelling.

"I-it's not like actual dating though. It's like, t-this thing they were talking about, with a courtship and chaperones, and like, it's all very weird…"

The youngest Weasley boy's eyes were closed, trying (for once) to reign in his own temper. Once he'd taken a couple minutes to get a handle on it, Harry picked back up where he left off.

"I mean, it's probably not even going to last long, and even though he's pretty f-"

"Stop, mate, please!" Ron covered his ears, as if the act would shield him from corrupt thoughts of Harry and Malfoy. "I don't need to know about your attraction to Malfoy!"

"But Ron-"

"Nope."

"Bu-"

"No!"

"Ron, seriou-"

"G'night Harry, talk to you tomorrow!"

And with that, Ron hustled up to bed. Harry was quick to follow, if only to get this night over with.

***HCTHtM***

The next morning and the following month followed a very simple pattern: meditation/animagus practice, exercise, eat, school, eat, socialize, eat, study, bed. There was very little variation. Well, putting aside his walks on Mondays and Thursdays with Draco. And the one odd time the Gryffindor girls locked him in his room to put girls clothes and makeup on him. That was a day he hoped never to have to experience again.

His walks with his new partner (were they boyfriends now?) were going much better than Harry thought they would. By the end of the month, they'd worked out that almost all the differences they'd had in previous years were either misunderstandings, revenge for aforementioned misunderstandings, or attempts to gain the other's attention. And so, they'd mended the bridges broken, and were working on seeing if they were indeed compatible with each other. They'd so far found that they at least made good friends. True to the threats made on the train, however, they were never really alone without either Hermione and/or Pansy present.

Though, as close as he and Draco were getting (as well as Pansy and Hermione, oddly enough), it seemed like he and Ron were drifting apart. The young Weasley boy just couldn't accept all the changes that were happening all at once. Honestly, it was almost too much for Harry as well, but he just did what he always did and soldiered on.

In other news, Harry seemed to have definitely stopped shrinking. He had managed to change back for a few seconds (hooray!), and he was feeling that annoying ache in his whole body now. His hair had sprouted down to his mid-back, and his facial features and body structure had become very delicate, almost elfin. While all this was pointing toward 'humanoid', Harry (even with the expansive Hogwarts library) still couldn't narrow it down past 'some kind of fey creature', which was frustrating because if he didn't identify the creature he was supposed to be, he couldn't finish the transformation.

Harry couldn't wait to finish this process, honestly. It was a lot more effort than it was worth, in his case. He wanted his normal body back. His original hair never got in the way like 'd resorted to getting Hermione to help him braid it each day. The poor boy had started getting frustrated easier, and just moodier in general when he wasn't with Draco, Hermione, or Ginny.

In all, it felt like Harry was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. And drop it did, on October 30.

***HCTHtM***

It was a cloudy night, but definitely seemed like it was going to stay dry, which was nice for the students of Hogwarts. The entire school had turned out for the arrival of the foreign schools Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. The French and Romanian schools were the direct rivals of Hogwarts, as far as Harry had learned, and only the best students from seventh year would be coming to put themselves forward.

Harry was standing next to Draco, shadowed by Hermione. Pansy had been otherwise occupied, so the bushy haired girl was their babysitter. He was rubbing his arms underneath his cloak, because late October was no time to be standing outside in the late evening. It was cold, dammit. Draco put his arm around Harry, and the chill of the night receded just a little bit.

The whole of Hogwarts watched on as absolutely nothing happened. Just as the students were starting to get really antsy, they heard Dumbledore exclaim "Ah! It seems the French have arrived!"

Everyone started looking around, not seeing anything, until a young voice piped up. "Look! Up in the sky!"

And indeed, there was a sky blue carriage hurtling through the sky, pulled by beautiful winged horses, and more massive than any he'd seen before (not that he'd had a lot of exposure to carriages besides the Hogwarts ones). The huge thing slammed down onto the ground hard enough that Harry could feel vibrations even twenty feet away.

Once stopped,the door opened, and out stepped ten girls, followed by probably the tallest woman in the world, in Harry's opinion. He heard an impressed whistle, then an oof as, presumably, the whistler in question had gotten elbowed or hit in his stomach.

The tall woman (who had to be the headmistress of the French school) exchanged pleasantries with Dumbledore, then led her shivering girls into the castle. As they passed though, Harry felt a comforting aura radiating from one of the students. Interestingly, the older blonde was staring at Harry, a surprised smile on her face. The moment passed, and the girl had to go with the rest of her peers into the warmth of the castle. The last he saw of her, she was whispering back to her headmistress, and pointing back at Harry.

Harry, fully distracted by the girl, didn't even pay attention to the arrival of the Durmstrang boys. He was contemplating that brief exposure to the girl's aura, when Draco pulled him out of his thoughts.

"You alright, Harry? I thought you were immune to Veela?" his boyfriend looked at him in concern, and Harry shook his head to clear it.

"Yeah, Draco. I'm good. Have the Durm…" Harry's sentence didn't need to be finished, because the last of the burgundy robe wearing boys had stepped off the giant effing ship that had somehow shown up in the middle of a landlocked lake. 'How even…' Harry thought absently. 'Nope. not gonna ask. Just chalk it up to magic and leave it there.'

The Hogwarts student body followed the Scandanavian boys (one of which was Viktor Krum!) back into the school and to the Great Hall. Harry and Draco were waylaid by a girls voice shouting out at them.

"Pardon," they said. Harry, feeling the aura again, knew immediately that it was the blonde girl. He turned around, and, of course, there she was. Stately, beautiful, and… happy to see him for some reason?

"Uh, yes? How can I help you?" Harry asked politely.

"'Ello. My name is Fleur Delacour." She responded in a heavy french accent. "I did not expect to meet anozzer Veela 'ere in 'Ogwarts. Come, you must let me sit wiz you."

Harry, very confused, disengaged his arm from Draco's and nodded to him, then told him they'd meet later in the week for their walk. Fleur looked delighted, and Hermione behind them seemed about to burst with questions.

The three of them, or at least Fleur, turned heads as they passed by. The other Beauxbatons girls had decided to sit at the Ravenclaw table, but the older French girl followed the two friends back to the Gryffindor table. Fleur kept up a running commentary of all the things that were different (and worse) about Hogwarts, but that it was all bearable for the chance to interact with another Veela.

Once sat down, Fleur, Harry, and Hermione listened attentively to the announcements about the Goblet of Fire. It was beautiful in a strange way. The blue flames edged on white, similar but much more ominous than Hermione's bluebell flames from first year.

"Eet 'as a certain… presence, non?" Fleur whispered to Harry. "Ze flame. It calls to you, yes?"

It did. As the goblet was removed from the Great Hall, Harry couldn't help but watch it go. A sense of resonating warmth in the middle of his chest had blossomed, just under his heart. Something in him snapped a bit, and he shook his head. He really needed to stop spacing out.

Hermione was not so enamored by the goblet, and could see Draco glaring at Fleur from across the room, so she cleared her throat and as they got into dinner, asked "Fleur, what were you saying earlier about Harry? You said something about him being a veela, but that should be impossible, right?"

Fleur blinked a couple times, then looked at Harry with an amused expression. " So. You 'ave zem call you 'arry? Eet is short for 'arriet, yes?" She then turned to Hermione and put on a patient smile.

"Your 'arry is veela. She cannot be a him. Eet is impossible. Veela are women. Unless you call 'im zat because 'e one of zose… 'ow you call zem? Ze boy-girls?" Harry was mortified by the conversation and, trying to shut down this line of thought, interrupted.

"Uh, excuse me. I really am a boy. Erm… bits and all, y'know."

"Non." Fleur shook her head. "C'est impossible. You 'ave ze Allure. Eet is 'ow I found you. You cannot mimic a veela allure, and veela cannot be male, z'erefore you cannot me male." She furnished smugly.

Harry sighed and looked around. The meal was in full swing; even Hermione and Fleur were eating as they argued. "Listen," he pleaded. "I'll prove it after the feast. Just come with us to an empty classroom and you'll believe me." Fleur looked decidedly unimpressed with his assertion.

***HCTHtM***

Now, it always seems like when you don't want something to happen, time looks at you and smiles maliciously, before speeding up unnecessarily. Or at least, that's how it felt to Harry, who was thoroughly surprised when Hermione led him away from the Great Hall, with Fleur following behind.

Harry objected that they hadn't gotten the password from a prefect, but Hermione's response sounded almost insulted.

"You think I wouldn't have gotten the password before going off on this new and strangely intriguing adventure?"

Harry had no way to refute that logic, so he decided to remain silent.

Fleur looked both amused at the antics of the two younger students, and interested in the tapestries and architecture of the castle. Once they'd found a suitably private room off the side of the entrance hall, Harry sat on a chair and sighed before looking up at Hermione.

"So… I may have been keeping a secret, Hermione."

The mentioned girl leveled an unimpressed stare at him, eyebrows raised, and arms crossed under her breasts.

"No…" She drawled, sarcasm oozing from her tone. "I never would have guessed."

"Okay, well. Uh, here goes." Harry reached inside himself for the warm feeling and pulled, trying to keep the thing from trickling back for as long as possible.

As a result, a boy (fully recognizable as such), shimmered into being out of the shape Hermione had come to accept. It was the Harry she had known for four years. Black, tousled hair, sharp features, tall-ish and gangly, and decidedly Harry. Hermione's jaw dropped, and her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. She was trying to reconcile this change, when Harry changed back.

"Huh, ten seconds. A new personal best."

"Que se passe-t-il?" Fleur mumbled in French. "Eet was gone. Ze Allure. Now eet is back. What in Merlin's name are you?"

While Fleur was busy talking to herself and studying Harry, Hermione was silently doing the same. She walked around the boy, making sure it wasn't an illusion.

"Ten seconds? You can only transform back for ten seconds?" She inquired.

"Yeah." He confirmed, nervous about Fleur's increasingly French ranting. "It's weird. It's almost like this form's taking over my old one."

"This form? So you're aware of why you are changing?"

"I-I mean, yeah." Harry stuttered out. "B-but, you got to promise not to be mad, Hermione. I went to Padfoot and everything, and even Moony helped."

Hermione digested this information, adding it to her already growing pile of thoughts to sift through. 'Transformations, Sirius, Veela. He could be a metamorph, but that makes no sense. If Fleur's correct, he's turning into a veela, and veela are magical creat…. Wait a tic.'

Hermione's expression turned thunderous, and Harry, figuring she had sussed out the situation, backed away slightly.

"Now Hermione, there's no reason to-"

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" She yelled furiously. "Did you really become an animagus without anyone to supervise you?! How bloody irrespons-"

Hermione continued to vent, but suddenly she was silent. Harry blinked in surprise, then saw Fleur tapping her wand against her arm. His friend had turned to the French witch, face an unattractive red, and still yelling angrily to boot. She pointed at her throat, and widened her eyes expectantly. Fleur, eyebrow raised, waited a moment before saying "Are you finished?" The brown haired girl rolled her eyes and nodded with a deep, calming breath. She was un-silenced.

"'arry," Fleur cooed, her voice making said boy quail in apprehension. "You are going zhrough an animagus journey, yes?"

Harry nodded nervously. Fleur's eyes seemed to pierce through him.

"I would be insulted my 'eritage could be considered enough of a creature to be eligible as a valid animagus form, but I believe eet will be interesting enough to soothe my temper." The blonde girl laid a hand on Harry's shoulder, grasping it in a way that made Harry aware he would be going nowhere without her permission.

"Leetle girl. 'ermione, was eet not?" Hermione affirmed her statement with a wary nod. "I will be taking 'arry to ze Beauxbatons carriage tonight." The other girl's eyes widened, and her mouth opened to argue, but the seventh year overrode her.

"Non. 'e will be coming wiz me. 'e needs to finish 'is transformation, or 'is body will begin to break down from ze strain. I zhould 'ave 'im back to you tonight, or at least by tomorrow morning."

And with that, Harry was herded out of the castle and into the periwinkle blue monstrosity that was the French carriage.

***HCTHtM***

As they walked through the hallway that was much bigger than it had any right being, Fleur cast a spell over Harry.

"You can understand me, yes?"

"Yeah." Harry replied, confused as to why he shouldn't be able to.

"I cast a translation charm on you. It should last through our discussion, and make it easier on us to communicate."

"Oh," the boy said simply. "Well, that's right useful."

Fleur pushed him into a room, looking to make sure she wasn't spotted with an underage boy.

The following few minutes were an education in being patient. After locking and silencing the door, Fleur paced a little, showing her agitation. Harry took the time to look around the room before the veela girl could start her 'lesson'.

The room was blue, as was the rest of the carriage, with cream colored accents. The sheets were white, the wood furniture was a light one that Harry wouldn't be able to identify if you held him at wand-point, and the whole room just had a very posh feel to it. Fleur's possessions had not yet had time to migrate across the entire thing, so it looked every clean and not lived in at all. Harry was pulled from his visual tour by Fleur's wand hitting him in the head sharply.

"You meditate to work on your form, right?" Harry nodded. He seemed to be doing that a lot tonight.

"You will take your position on the floor and enter into your meditation while listening to my voice."

Harry did as he was told, slipping off the chair he was on, to the floor. He took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, beginning the descent into peace he'd gotten used to all summer.

"Listen to my voice."Fleur said softly. "You already know what you have to do. Take your time. Feel your whole body melting into peace. There is only darkness. Darkness and my voice. Let all thought go."

Fleur watched as the small boy that surprised her so slipped deep into a meditative state. It took her about ten minutes to get him into the state she wanted him in.

Thinking her plan would expedite this process, she stepped behind him and fell to her knees. She pulled him into a hug, her arms around his chest. She put her head next to his ear and let her allure loose. She could tell Harry felt it, because she felt his breath quicken.

"Picture a small flame. Hold it close. A wind is trying to put it out, and you must protect it. Feel the warmth around you, the comfort of the feminine energy. Go through your process keeping these things close. You are becoming veela. It is empowering. You feel so safe and comfortable."

Fleur felt a welling of magic. Harry's allure was getting stronger. She basked in it, happy that even though he wasn't born a veela, he would be able to commiserate with her soon.

Harry felt warm. So warm. The fire he held in his arms was cleansing and scorching. Slowly, it started to become gentler, more soothing. It began merging into his chest, taking the place of his heart, and he felt such gratitude for the feelings it imbued in him that he accepted it without question.

He could feel -even through his meditation- his body changing, snapping into place like it was the most natural thing in the world. And now that he felt the way it was supposed to be, he knew he could replace it with practice.

Harry didn't know how long it took him to rise from his meditation, but when he did, it was to Fleur hugging him from behind.

As he opened his eyes, he heard Fleur whisper "Welcome to the life of a veela, sister."