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Chapter Twenty-Eight
Before the Dawn
Death Eaters poured into England throughout the spring. By the middle of June, the Order estimated seven thousand followers of the Dark Lord resided on the island, which occasioned several Order meetings. And, Fleur found herself thankful. Not that she attended, but they provided a welcome relief from missions that were occurring almost daily, and sometimes, two or three times a day.
For the first time in what seemed like months, she planned on sleeping in.
At least, that was the plan until the door to her bedroom opened.
So, why did I change this? Well, it's not really changed, but rearranged. Harry's entrance was pretty underwhelming in this version (not that it was overwhelming in the final), but him and Neville meeting up was just as underwhelming, and that, I didn't like. So I broke this up.
The bones of the next part are in the final, but it's been changed because I didn't like the tone. It was too juvenile, I thought, for what was really going on. The scene picks up when Gabrielle says she's been pusher her magic into Neville, but it's not helping.
Fleur sat up. "Just how much magic did you push into him?"
Gabrielle sighed. "Probably too much."
"You didn't!"
"I couldn't help it! He was in so much pain. His dreams are so strong, so bad . . . And I'm the one who caused them." She looked up at Fleur. "I think he dreams about what he did that night to the Death Eater so you all could find me."
Fleur had already guessed that much. She nodded. "Probably. He crossed a line—one that will probably haunt him for a long time. But, that was his choice, not yours . . . promise me something, would you?"
"No."
Fleur blinked. "No?"
"Last time, I promised you I'd be a beautiful human and I completely failed. I don't want to break another promise. You're still my big sister—and my hero."
A lump lodged in Fleur's throat. She pulled Gabrielle to her chest and hugged her for a few moments, then kissed her on the top of the head and let her go.
"Well, I still think you're a beautiful human."
Gabrielle looked away and wrapped her arms around her legs. "I'm not. Look at Susan. She still cares about everyone, even Death Eaters. And Jaycinda can't even fight—she doesn't have it in her. But what we're doing . . . It come so easy to me now."
"Gabby, look at me."
When she refused, Fleur gently took her by the jaw, so she could look Gabby square in the eyes. "We are Veela. We're protectors, warriors, and you're doing everything the Veela of old would do. You're protecting people you love from horrible fates, and you're doing it by using every Veela and human advantage you know, which is exactly what Petra taught us to do."
"But, if we're like the old Veela, then why can't I help Neville? Did—did what happen to me break something?"
Fleur froze for a moment before her hand slid off Gabby's cheek. "This conversation isn't about Neville at all, is it?"
"Not really," Gabrielle admitted. "That night, they told me I deserved what was coming because of the way I threw my magic at everyone."
"And you believed them?"
"Not then . . . but what if it's true? What if that's the reason I can't help Neville." Gabrielle looked back up at Fleur with water-filled doe-eyes. "What if I'm holding back because deep down, I actually believe them?"
Fleur closed her eyes for a moment. "I thought said you pushed too much magic into him?"
Gabby blushed. "Yeah, um I didn't know guys could have one of . . . those . . . while they slept."
Fleur bit her lip. "Lesson learned."
"I guess so."
"So, be honest. Have you two . . . ?"
If possible, Gabby's cheeks grew even redder. "Not that it's any of your business, but no."
"Good, promise me you won't."
"And why would I do that?"
"Did they get to what happens to a Veela who loses a mate they've been intimate with at Durmstrang?"
Gabrielle's features blanched. "No, but I remember grandma and maman talking about it when you and 'Arry were going through . . . whatever it was you were going through."
"Tactful."
A small, impish smile quickly slid across Gabrielle's lips before disappearing.
"Everything that makes being Veela wonderful is also frightening on the other side. The depth of our love is so great, but when the focus of that love is ripped away, it leaves a hole that's difficult to heal. When our Veela magic is involved, especially if we make the commitment to mark them, it makes it even worse. The more intimate the relationship . . ."
"Don't worry, I'm not ready for something like that—not after what happened that night."
See what I mean? Also, this section focused too much on Gabrielle as it pertained to Nevile, and I wanted to treat Gabrielle as her own person. So, I used the same idea to launch the discussion, but then tried to back off the references to Neville until the end.
Also, Gabrielle's changed since her experience in the last chapter. I didn't want that change to be smoothed over by her being a smartalec here.
The following section was everything I removed about Harry and Neville's meeting and planning. I just did not like it. Way too underwhelming and the later fight scene wasn't done well. (I also included some notes like this throughout this scene for you to look over).
Harry stood upon the castle of Hogwarts and overlooked the grounds. For the last month, he had taken this spot, waiting and watching for the final battle. And it was coming. He could feel it. Not to mention that three times the previous week he watched Death Eaters poke around Hogwarts' defenses set by the House-elves.
And the truth was, he welcomed it. Despite all the Zana had done, the hole in his soul remained—that emptiness created by the Horcrux. He fought to stay away from it, to struggle back into day, but he was lost. Every fight over the previous month had reaffirmed his blackened soul and awakened the hunger for the Dark Arts. And he was tired of it all. So bloody tired.
ANGST! I have enough of it in this fic already. Didn't need more here.
The evening mist swirled in the twilight at the edge of the forest as two wizards emerged from the shadows. He watched as they approached the castle with slow, purposed strides before Harry pushed himself from the wall and descended from the astronomy tower.
A month ago, Harry had apparated to Hogsmeade and slipped through a tunnel into the castle, only to face half a dozen elves bearing wands and ill-intent for any wizard daring to enter the castle. It almost came to spells before another elf—one much older from what Harry could tell—calmed the others. It had taken an hour and several elf-spells before they were convinced he was who he said. But once they were satisfied, Harry related to them what the Zana had told him. They, in turn, took him to places in the castle he had never known existed, and they watched as Death Eaters tried different ways of getting into the castle.
Later that night, they began planning for the inevitable onslaught. Harry could only hope they would have the time to implement everything before it came. And it was coming soon. Death Eaters had stopped their interrogation of the defenses. In fact, he'd heard second hand that Death Eater activity had grown exceedingly quiet over the last five days. If there were any larger harbinger of their intentions, he couldn't place it. No, the time was now. And that was the reason for the meeting Harry was getting ready to attend.
(That was two thick paragraphs of background that was pure tell).
The chosen room was on the second floor. Across the hall sat a picture of a witch playing croquet. Behind it the tunnel Harry had taken into the castle. The classroom itself was one of the few in the castle that had windows. Another door exited the far side of the room into the faculty living area. On the far side of that was another door and a private stairway to ground level and a back door—only accessible from the inside. If they were somehow ambushed while in their meeting, there was a good chance some, if not most, of the attendees could escape—even if it meant some had to keep their broom with them.
Harry pushed the door open to find the last two attendees had already made their way up the stairs and had taken their places. He locked eyes with a big son of a bitch whose stare promised a whole lot of hurt to anyone that stood opposed. Only then did he realize it was Neville, but the ease that had existed between the two Gryffindors had disappeared in the blackness of the last two years.
Next to him sat Charlie, Tonks, and Madame Bones. Charlie looked much healthier than the night Harry had rescued him, except, of course, for missing both little fingers. Across the table was Alastor Moody, and next to him, Professor McGonagall. The last chair held what Harry thought was the head House-elf. The chair itself had been enlarged so the elf could take his proper place at the table, but the way he oriented himself towards Professor McGonagall was strange.
Harry took the last remaining seat at the table.
Moody held up a hand before anyone could say anything. Then, his fake eye slowly spun horizontally, the iris disappearing at the outside edge of his eye until it appeared again focused on the bridge of his own nose. It finished its rotation, then repeated it vertically before Moody spoke again.
"We are alone. Let us begin." He turned to the House-elf, who suddenly looked uncomfortable.
When he did nothing but fidget for the better part of a minute, Professor McGonagall spoke up. "Nanky, I am not claiming my authority over the castle. It is your place to speak, not mine."
Nanky's ears tilted forward and his large eyes seemed to droop for a moment before he righted himself. "We's calling Wizards because Elfs believe Maskies are ready."
"Ready for what?" Charlie asked.
"To throw everything they have at the castle and push the elves out," Moody answered. "Taking Hogwarts is both symbolic and necessary—it is the final symbol of the British magical world that has not fallen to Riddle."
Tonks sat up in her chair. "Why is it necessary?"
"Numbers," Neville answered. "We've raided several known or suspected Death Eater holdings over the last few months. Every one of them has held foreign Death Eaters, and the numbers keep increasing. They need a place to put them all."
"But that doesn't make sense" she argued. "Dispersion keeps them safe. Gather them all under the same roof, and we'll drop the damn thing on them and end this war."
Professor McGonagall shook her head. "Tom Riddle is not looking for an Inn for his Death Eaters. I taught him as a student, and even then, he thought this castle majestic. Whatever his plans, it is not to use it as an inn.
"No," Madame Bones agreed. "Alistar is correct. This castle is the last remaining holdout on this island. Once it is taken, Riddle's war among magical Britain is all but over. He'll then move into the Muggle world and across the Channel into Europe. Hogwarts will be the center of his empire."
"House-elfs hearing similar things," Nanky said. "We not be allowing it, but elfs needing help to fight Maskies."
"Then, we must organize," Madame Bones said.
And organize they did for the next hour until the meeting broke up. Each of them had tasks to accomplish as soon as possible. Tonks, especially, as she had to visit several different places to rally the remaining Aurors and Hitwizards.
"Hey, Nev?"
Neville and Moody, who had been in conversation with each other, faced her. Harry, on the other side of the table, had largely observed the entire meeting. Of course, he had his task as well—prepare Hogwarts with the elves to the best of his ability for the coming battle. And, if the fight started before they were ready, to hold them off until help could arrive.
"Yeah?" Neville answered.
"Could you cover for me tonight? There's an interesting meeting happening in a small hamlet in Wales that we need to check." Tonks nodded towards Charlie. "Charlie knows all about it. I need to beg off if I want to get to everyone in the next day or two."
Neville caught Charlie's eye. "You okay with that?"
"Absolutely. We think the meeting might be something to do with coordination of Death Eaters being imported from the continent so we might get some useful information from it." He scratched at the back of his neck. "We should probably take one more, however."
"I'm out," Moody said. "Amelia and I have to visit the Muggle Prime Minister, and then hope they get word to the French Magical government before the time comes."
(In some ways, wished I had incorporated the previous paragraph in another form. It would give more context to the threat being more than just Magical Britain).
Neville flashed a quick at Harry before answering. "I can make sure they know by tomorrow."
Charlie followed the look. "You should come with us as well, Harry."
Harry didn't want to—he'd been fighting alone ever since he'd been back in Britain, and almost said so, but then he stopped. They were planning on defending Hogwarts with as many wizards and witches as they could find and he needed to remember what is was like to fight alongside others—if for no other reason than learning how not to be distracted by them.
"If you need me, I guess."
"Good, wait here with Neville while I say goodbye to Tonks."
The room cleared except for Harry and Neville. An uneasy silence arose between them—something that had never existed before. Harry wasn't sure whether it was because of what they'd been through or their promise to kill the other if one of them had become a Dark Lord.
Neville leaned back in his chair. "You're an arsehole."
"Oh? And why is that?"
"You've known Fleur was here since Charlie told you a month ago. Why didn't you go to her?"
"And what is it to you?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Neville."
Neville's hands clenched until the skin over his knuckles turned white. "She sure as hell needed you when she lost Gabrielle to the Death Eaters."
Harry's heart dropped through his stomach. "Gabby's—"
"Alive. No thanks to you." Neville leaned forward over the table. "When we're finished tonight, you're coming with me to see them. You at least owe Fleur that much."
Harry set his jaw. "No."
Whatever the hell Neville's problem was, Harry was not going to allow that to happen. He knew what he was becoming. And, despite the person sitting before him now, Neville was once his friend; there was no way he'd force Neville to darken his soul by coming after Harry to kill him.
"I watched as they pulled the covers over her head and pronounced her dead. I walked out of that hospital and became what I am now. So, despite the fact she's still alive . . . I'm not. Not with the shit I've done. There's only two choices left for me. Either I'm going to die in the final battle with Riddle, or I'll take my life immediately after to stop the rise of another Dark Lord because I can't stop it. The draw is too strong and I've indulged for too long."
"Fecking coward."
Harry jumped to his feet.
But, Neville was just as fast. "Draw that wand and only one of us leaves here alive."
Slowly, Harry withdrew his empty hand, but his glare remained on Neville. "You're a bloody idiot. I'm damned. And I am not going to drag Fleur down with me."
"We're all damned." Neville took his seat again. "You're not the only one whose descended into the darkness. Maybe it's fate, what with our parents. Or, perhaps, we're just the children of the damned. I have no idea. But whatever we are, I choose to fight it for the sake of Gabrielle, if not myself."
Neville and Gabrielle? The old Neville, he knew would have treated her as well as she deserved. This new incarnation? He had no idea. But, Fleur was with them . . . and approved? She wouldn't let anything bad come to Gabby. That was for sure.
Before either of them could continue the conversation, Charlie walked back into the room. "Here's the plan . . ."
As it turned out, Death Eaters were gathering in a small town just south of Glasgow. Charlie refused to share how he came across the information, but Harry suspected either they got it from a Death Eater. Maybe a House-elf found a loophole in his instructions and told the elves at Hogwarts? It was certainly possible. Dobby did something similar Harry's second year.
His chest knotted at the thought of Dobby, but he pushed it aside. "So, information only? We don't want to tip our hand by engaging them, right?"
"That's right," Charlie said.
"Unless we are seen," Neville added. "Then, we kill them all."
Harry shrugged. "I say we kill them all anyway."
For the first time since they'd met this evening, Neville smiled, but it was short-lived. "What say you, Charlie? Should we just kill them?"
Charlie shook his head. "Bloody hell. You two are going to live up to your names, aren't you?"
Harry and Neville looked at each other, then back at him.
"Together, the two of you are going to leave nothing but chaos and death in your wake."
So, you can see some of it made its way into the final draft. However, it just didn't work here. Also, that last line. Really? How often do I need to repeat that in this chapter? (You'll see it's pretty often if you keep reading).
This section picks up where Azzurra has just woken up later in the night. There were some small changes before this, but here's the main change. All exposition! Yuck.
Later that night as Azzurra lay in bed, emotionally exhausted, she realized the Asian Flock Leader had saved her life. God, she'd come so close to losing herself. Had that Veela not tried to establish dominance, she would never have been able to gain control over her magic.
Whoever that Flock Leader was, she, and by extension, her flock, wasn't that powerful. But damn if that Veela wasn't quick to fly straight. Her mother and Petra needed to keep an eye on her. If she was that quick to make right decisions, they might be able to use her well.
Azzurra rolled over and stared at the wall. Then again, maybe not, she thought. Five months later, and the Zekēnōt still hadn't moved on England's Dark Lord. Médée had told her that Fleur and Gabrielle were still over there, but she had no report on them. And then, there was Harry.
Supposedly, a committee was set up to handle a request from Magical France to join them if they fought against the British magical government. It surprised Azzurra that the committee was allowed, or maybe not. The request was officially made to the French flock, with Samwit as the outside attendee. So it wasn't really that surprising at all that it was accepted. And if it were accepted, it then had to be studied. But over the last hundred plus years, the committee had been a formality.
That had changed, however, over the last few months. Especially with Petra in charge. No matter her relationship to Azzurra's mother, Petra was her own Veela. Whatever recommendation came out of the committee would be based on facts. Azzurra's respect for her mother ticked up a notch. She may not like the wizarding world, but at least she was playing it straight.
But then, according to rumor, the committee went on a fact-gathering mission to England. Some say they had involved themselves in a major battle. Others stated that they met with Fleur and Gabrielle, got what they needed and then returned home. One rumor, however, was hard to ignore—they had found Harry. The fact they took Sorina, who wasn't part of the committee, lent a lot of credence to the rumor. She was the only Flock Leader—although fifth or sixth in the Scandinavian flock's Pecking Order of leaders—to have spent significant time around Harry. If they were searching for him, they would definitely need her assistance.
And then, Médée told her that ever since the committee returned a month ago, Petra hadn't been the same, and tension had grown between her and Azzurra's mother. Moreover, Harry's name had been overheard several times between the two of them.
Whatever the issue was, he was at the center of it.
Azzurra's heart thumped heavily. She already had lost one person she loved. If Harry, Fleur, or Gabrielle died over there, she wasn't sure if she could handle it.
Hell, from what Médée was saying, the Franco-Celtic flock was meeting over the next few days to decide if they'd go to war without the Zekēnōt under the banner of Magical France.
Technically, it was legal in Veela law as all Veela were considered dual citizens. But a single flock holding official meetings to discuss it before the Zekēnōt even voted was a Stunner right to the beak. And even Médée's extended family was joining the discussion, and her family had kept themselves separate from the rest of the Franco-Celtic flock since the French Revolution.
Azzurra rolled over again, and it surprised her at the effort it took. At least her muscles hadn't atrophied thanks to the stasis, but the Healer that visited earlier in the night had informed her it'd take a day and a half before they worked right. Until then, she'd feel weak and exhausted.
Then why can't I sleep?
She let her thoughts drift, but soon, they came back to Markus, and they brought back the emotional pain with a vengeance. But, at least she was alone to cry her way through the night.
As I said, more exposition, more unnecessary angst at the end, and finally, I didn't like the direction with Médée's family, which also led into a plot hole with only Fleur's flock meeting. (or, if not a plot hole, almost a dues ex machina—just happened to be meeting then, although never before mentioned).
And, here's the battle. No thanks. I think the final came out much better, even though it was a bit abbreviated.
The night sky sparkled above Harry as he approached Aber Falls. The Magical Hamlet was tucked away in the hills of the Coedydd Nature Reserve in Western Wales, two miles due south of Gorddinog. Fifteen ancient hall-houses had been built in three haphazard concentric circles that surrounded a park the size of Gryffindor's common room. According to Charlie's contact, the Death Eaters were meeting in the only three-story home which was part of the innermost ring.
Harry stepped out from the northern tree line into a breeze sweeping across the open ground. Despite being under his Invisibility cloak and it being the middle of May, a shiver slithered up Harry's spine. Merlin's arse, and here I thought Scotland felt cold this time of year. He dismissed the thought and eased his way to the park to wait for Neville and Charlie, who were both using Auror-grade invisibility cloaks and approaching from the Southwest and Southeast.
If all three reached the park safely without tripping alarms, they'd separate again and move towards the house. Harry had questioned the tactic, but Charlie explained the Aurors developed it after years of losing too many friends in the first war. At least this way, if one person was caught, the others could rescue him or escape to fight again.
A stone curb marked the boundary of the park. Somewhere in the distance, two cats started hissing at each other. Harry ignored them and stepped over the curb, then moved to his left and slid sideways behind an old rickety bench until he bumped an invisible shoulder. He followed it with another bump, then a pause, and then two more bumps in quick succession. Three quick pats on his leg confirmed it was Charlie, who kept his shoulder lightly pressed again Harry's.
And then, they waited. Harry gazed over the back of the bench towards the house. Billowing chimney smoke gave context to the light that danced in the large bay windows that had been cut into the stone exterior of the first floor. The second and third floors were dark, but Harry couldn't tell if that was because they weren't occupied or because a spell had occulted the windows.
Harry corrected his balance as someone bumped Charlie's other shoulder twice, then twice again. Another double-tap, this time on the leg, by Charlie confirmed that Neville had joined them.
Bloody ridiculous, Harry thought. A bump here, a tap there. But he understood why. Charms existed that could warn a caster of any sound, and others existed for magic. Casting a Silencing Charm could sound alarms that would echo of the surrounding hills. No wonder I prefer to work alone.
Several minutes passed before a traveler in black robes suddenly appeared on the doorstep of the house they had been watching. It was too dark to see if he was wearing a mask, but Harry wouldn't doubt it. The door opened, and the supposed Death Eater entered. Harry watched as he passed by the windows, the flames causing his shadow dance on the glass. Then, a second and third Death Eater appeared and went through the door.
A single tap on Harry's leg told him it was time. The plan was to cover each entrance into the home—both front and back doors along with a service entrance off what they were told was a kitchen. But, as they moved, the hissing cats streaked through the center of the little park.
Neville cussed under his breath. A second later, Harry understood why. The cats had set off some sort of charm that was tied to a secondary charm—one that would reveal every wizard in the area. He felt the charm wash over his body. And then, a loud, keening wail announced the little Hamlet had company.
Death Eaters appeared in the windows of several homes.
"Neville?" Charlie said.
"I see them. Split up and take the bastards!"
Harry shot to his right yanking off his robe. Secondary charms were firing off, outlining all objects in a hundred-yard radius, so the robe would just hinder him.
He dodged a red spell and returned fire, launching a simple XXXX Spell. Once Harry had closed the distance to the first home, he kicked through the door and jumped into the open hall. Two Death Eaters were waiting for him, but Harry let his momentum carry him across the room, then he cast a Shield Charm and reached through his magic to shape it. Incoming curses ricocheted off charm and back at the casters who had to side-step their own spells.
Harry's wand danced in the light emanating from the fireplace, adding two green-hued streaks it such quick succession the Death Eaters had no time to react. Their bodies slapped against the floor as Harry ran past them and up the stairs.
But the Death Eater on the second floor was waiting for him. Just as Harry could see across the floor from the staircase, the last Death Eater collapsed the ceiling over that part of the house. Harry dove off the staircase back to the first flow and rolled out of the way as building material cascaded down the stairs, blocking any way to the second floor. In the momentary silence that ensued, he heard the floor creak above him.
A Banisher shot from Harry's wand and the ceiling disappeared, dropping the Death Eater to the ground floor. Another quick cast and he had the robed wizard bound.
Without wasting a moment of time, Harry hit him with a Compulsion Charm and then went to work with Legilimency. He needed answers, fast, or they might not make it out alive.
"What happened to the families in all these homes?"
The Death Eater smiled. "We killed them."
Harry pushed into the wizard's head and saw that he was telling the truth. A week ago, the families had been marched out to the small park he was just in and then executed for no other reason than they wanted this Hamlet. Harry then pulled what he needed from the Death Eater and then, without another word, he pulled out of the wizard's mind, grabbed him by his hair and pulled backward, exposing his throat. A Cutting Curse opened the wizard's artery.
"I suggest you make peace with whatever deity you believe in before you bleed out."
The wizard opened his mouth to say something, but another Cutting Curse severed the Death Eater's head.
"Too late."
Harry exited the front door to find Charlie pinned behind a boulder as a barrage of spells and curses exploded around him. Neville was farther off in the distance, fighting his way through three more Death Eaters, but when he saw Harry emerge from the home, he disengaged and retreated behind a Shield Charm until he could take refuge behind a small outbuilding.
Harry pointed his wand at his throat. "They killed the entire Hamlet."
Even from the distance of twenty yards, Harry watched Neville fall away and that ancient monster, Chaos, take control. "Drop the Hamlet!"
A rage exploded within Harry, and whatever control he had gained over the Dark Arts since the Zana had visited him fell away.
More and more spells were directed at him, but Harry ignored them and stalked towards the homes. He wand-blocked curses that were too on target, or in the case of Killing Curses, levitated rocks or tree branches in their way. And, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Neville doing the same.
They stopped at the front edge of the little park. Harry, wand raised, growled a curse, and the closest house on his right exploded, sending debris hundreds of feet into the air. A second shockwave told him Neville had hit another home on his far left with a similar spell. But Harry paid it no mind as he turned to his next target.
On and on they continued, home after home, until they had razed the hamlet and the forest glowed orange as it reflected the raging fires.
Harry took in the sight before turning to Neville. "They're coming for Hogwarts tomorrow night."
"Who is?"
Harry and Neville both spun, wands out and gamboling before they recognized Charlie.
Charlie stopped, both hands in the air and eyes growing wide as he took in Harry and Neville, then he looked out over the Hamlet again. "Aber Falls has stood for thirteen hundred years, only to be wiped out of existed in under sixty seconds by Chaos and Death." He turned back to Harry. "Who has come for Hogwarts?"
"Riddle, his inner-circle, and every Death Eater on the island. Portkeys start arriving from other continents tomorrow afternoon—this afternoon, depending on what time it is."
"Where?"
Harry shook his head. "He didn't know. This Hamlet was supposed to be a holding place—one of many."
Charlie took a deep breath. "What happens if he gets Hogwarts?"
"From what I could pick up, Riddle will start filtering all new arrivals through it immediately, forming teams and sending them across the Channel."
"Then, this is it. We must stop him there. If we don't, Magical Europe descends into war." Charlie pocketed his wand. "And Muggle Europe won't be far behind."
Neville unclenched his jaw. "Then we know what we need to do."
Charlie nodded. "Harry, are you okay with going back to Hogwarts and helping the elves? If the Death Eaters come early, it'll be up to you and the elves to hold them off until we get there."
Harry didn't answer except for a slight dip of his head.
Neville turned to Charlie. "I'll take care of the Aurors and Society Members as well as getting the word out across the Channel. You get the rest of the factions informed through the Order."
Charlie nodded again, then Disapparated.
Harry closed his eyes and envisioned the road leading into Hogwarts—ironically, the same place to which Fleur had side-Apparated him the night this war began almost two years ago.
"Harry?"
He opened his eyes again and stared at the man standing across from him. Then, a memory slipped unbidden into his thoughts. Neville, finding his frog, Trevor, before the Sorting Ceremony. It was hard to reconcile that pudgy, fumbling little boy with the man who stood before him now. Then again, he knew several others would probably say the same about him.
Harry raised an eyebrow in response.
Neville poked him in the chest. "We still have a conversation to finish when this is over, so don't be stupid. If they do come early, keep yourself alive, and we'll get there as soon as possible."
Without another word, Harry turned on the spot and disappeared.
See? Oh, and no Giants, either. Why did I include Giants in the final? Well, you're going to have to wait for the next chapter to find out.
Neville stared at the destruction they had caused tonight. "Bloody hell. Charlie was right. Chaos and Death." (Really? Again?) Despite all he had done in the war, tonight would haunt him. Not because of the fighting or the killing, but because of what he witnessed fighting alongside Harry. The power he and Harry held together scared him.
(Jump to the end of the scene—Gabrielle just took a Portkey to France and Fleur questioned him about the mark).
"Oh, that . . . yeah. I did. Why?"
"Because she just marked you as hers among the Veela."
A slow smile crawled across his lips. "I think I'm okay with that."
She matched the expression again. "Good. Now that we've cleared that up, I really want to see your memory of today. I need to see what's going on with Harry."
That last bit felt so unnecessary.
The whole Gabrielle in France scene was pretty similar. Nothing of substances was cut. However, Paige didn't go back with Gabrielle originally. I added that in, in one of the final edits.
Apolline and her husband at the Minstry: this scene is similar, but I cut certain parts because it was just not necessary. It felt too vaudevillian, if that makes sense.
"To hear Suzanne tell it, Gabby demanded to be let in to speak with Anastasie. When the Veela said no, Gabby picked her up by the neck, opened the door, and threw her into the room."
"She what!" Jacque choked on a crumb and had to down half his cup of coffee before it cleared. "Did you see it?"
"Only the end—as Matreesa stumbled in backward and fell with a small hand print on her throat. So, Suzanne probably isn't overdramatizing it too much. Anyway, I got to talk to Gabby after the meeting. She said Fleur's doing okay, but they haven't had any contact with 'Arry."
"She said pretty much the same thing to me."
"Did she tell you she has marked a young man?"
Jacque choked a second time.
Apolline poured him a fresh cup of coffee after he used what was left to clear his throat a second time.
"Did she say who?"
Yeah, this led to the next paragraph . . .
~ . ~ . ~
Three hours later, Apolline was still laughing at her husband's reaction to the news of the target of their daughter's affections. Then again, it was an awful lot to learn your two future sons-in-law were known throughout their native land as Chaos and Death. (REALLY? After so many repetitions, it just gets old).
Okay, so the next scene is getting Azzurra from her room. You'll see there's some familiarity with what I have now, however, I cut quite a bit as well. First, Azzurra was coming across too weak. That would've made her stand against her mother unbelievable so I had to cut it. Second, there's a shower scene in there that was supposed to help show her weakness. But, once I stopped and looked at it, even though there was nothing at all sexual about it, I realized I've just put two naked legal teenage veela together in a shower, with one sponging the other. Um, no. That got cut immediately after realizing that!
A banging on the door to Azzurra's room woke her. She tried pulling the sheets over her head, but it didn't help. Whoever it was, they were determined to get her out of bed.
She trudged to the door and pulled it open. "What!"
Médée and Jaleena stared at her, Médée in mid-knock. She dropped her hand. "Hurry, up! Get dressed."
"Why?"
Jaleena pushed her way into the room and sifted through the dresser. Azzurra crossed her arms and watched. There were only three or four changes of clothes in it so it didn't take her long. "Here, put this on. We'll help you to the chambers."
"Wait." Médée pulled her into a spot of sun shining through the window. "Have you showered yet since your induced Torpor?"
"Someone had better tell me what this is about."
"Fleur's flock has called for a War Council. It's starting now!" Médée pulled Azzurra's shirt up over her head, then yanked off her pajama bottoms and underthings. "Go, grab a shower. We only have a few minutes!"
Azzurra stared at her undergarments laying in a pile. Did Médée just do what I think—and then it hit her. "They what!"
"A War Council." Jaleena took her arm and led her to the shower. "Are you strong enough to do it on your own, or do you need help?"
As much as Azzurra wanted to be independent, the truth was written along her already slumping legs and bent back.
Jaleena took one look at her before stripping herself, then pushing Azzurra into the shower. The German Veela conjured a chair and Azzurra rested as her friend scrubbed her down.
Five minutes later, they emerged and dried off. Médée cast three drying spells on Azzurra, then gently pushed her onto the bed and helped her dress why Jaleena did the same for herself.
Azzurra let them dress her as she pondered what, exactly was going on. "Why now?"
Jaleena pulled her shirt back over her head. "Why what?"
"The War Council. Why did the Franco-Celtic flock call a council now?"
"Give me your foot." Médée pulled on a sock, then grabbed her other foot and did the same before handing her a pair of pants to put on. "Last night was the traditional gathering for the leaders of our flock. Even if my extended family never takes part, we're still made aware of it."
Azzurra buttoned her denim pants—they weren't exactly proper for stepping into the Zekānōt in full council, but they were all she had. "So, something happened at that meeting."
"More than that." Jaleena pulled on a pair of trainers. "Fleur's grandmother, mother, and sisters are all here and I heard them saying Gabrielle visited them last night."
Azzurra froze. "She what?"
"I didn't know about this." Médée turned to Jaleena. "When did you find out?"
"While you were talking to Petra, just before the session began. By the time I got back to my seat . . ."
"It had started." Médée shook her head. "That's why you didn't look surprised."
"I figured something was up."
"Let's go, then!" Azzurra walked to the door, then stopped and steadied herself against the wall. She didn't feel right, yet, but there was no way she was missing the War Council. Not only was it history in the making—the last Veela War Council occurred over four hundred years ago—Azzurra somehow knew she has a role in it this afternoon. "Come on!"
X ~ X ~ X ~ X
So, in the final scene, while there a few editing changes, it was nothing major. What I did change, however, was everything that happened once Sophia Sala tried to end the session.
"No. My younger daughter, Gabrielle."
The Flock Leader flung both hands into the air. "Great, so on the word of a young chicken just growing her tail-feathers, we're supposed to go raze a land? I am calling an end to this War Council!"
"No!"
The power behind the voice radiated in the chamber and all eyes turned to the back door. Azzurra, with the aid of Médée and Jaleena, walked down the middle aisle to stand between the concentric seats and the dais.
Her mother came off the dais. "Azzurra, you should still be in bed."
"Do not approach me!" The power of Azzurra's magic stopped her mother like a slap to the face. "I am needed here to counsel my Flock Leader against the idiocy she is now displaying."
Apolline noted several jaws dropping at the announcement.
"Azzurra, you' just woke up—"
"And you and many of this Zekānōt are still asleep!" Azzurra pulled herself away from her friends. "Fleur was right about you the last time she was here. And I will not allow that to continue. I will not allow you to continue to the lead the Italian Flock along the path of peace at all costs."
Her mother stepped away from the dais, her own magic growing more intense and focused on her daughter. "Azzurra, please, do not do this. I have no desire to force your submission, especially after all you've been through."
"And I have no desire to see any more of my friends die. I challenge your position as Flock Leader."
Veela magic ripped across the space between them, commanding the other to submit. Several Veela behind the combatants were caught and Flock Leaders were driven to their knees as the magic radiated from the center of the room. Only the strongest, such as those on the dais remained standing, but Apolline could see their struggle. A few seats away, Anastasie and Maryse were also on their knees. Apolline proudly noted her mother still standing, barely.
Azzurra ratcheted her magic higher and in a flash, her warrior form emerged. Blank white eyes burned as platinum blond hair flowed over the white leather breastplate highlighted in Tyrian purple she had chosen as part of her war dress. And not a moment later, her mother shifted as well and a new wave of magic flood the room, causing Azzurra to take a step back. Her legs bowed and her back bent, but she resisted and with a great push, hurled another attack at her mother.
The older Veela was caught off guard and stumbled backwards until her back hit the top of the dais. Then, she gathered her legs under her and forced herself upright again. With one last effort, Azzurra's mother threw her hands forward and screamed, "Submit!"
Azzurra's legs gave out and she fell to the floor, her head bowed.
The magic ceased.
Apolline struggled against her own magic that was still telling her to assume a submissive position and looked up. Azzurra's mother was hanging on to the dais, her chest heaving and her face drenched in sweat.
Azzurra was still on her knees, unable to stand. Apolline assumed it was due to her recent condition rather than a desire to remain submissive, and her assumption was proven when her two friends had to help her back to her feet.
"Why?" her mother asked.
"I told you."
Sophia Sala glared at her daughter before turning to Samwit. "Let us recess for lunch—"
"No!"
All eyes turned to Apolline, who found herself fighting her own transformation. "We only have a matter of hours! A call to recess equals voting against war!"
Sophia tried to stand up a little straighter. "Who are you to lecture me, Apolline Delacour? We shall recess on my command. Now." The last word was emphasized with a touch of Veela magic. Although, the effort caused Sophia's knees to slacken again.
Crystal banged against crystal again. "We shall recess for twenty minutes, at which time we will return to hear from those who have investigated the French request, led by Flock Leader Albescu."
A hand on Apolline's arm and a strong but silent command from her mother stayed her from responding. Instead, Apolline turned and marched from the Zekānōt.
As far as she was concerned, they could sit around the rest of the night and pleasure themselves with their wands, but she wasn't about to waste another second among them. Her daughters needed her in Scotland, and nothing would stop her from being by their side.
See? That last line about investigating the French request for alliance made no sense if they just finished a War Council. I had to find a better pivot point, which is why I changed Samwit's response.
All in all, I'm pretty happy with how things turned out. There might be a couple of things here I wish I included, but overall, I think I cut the right stuff out and added the right stuff in. I'd love to hear your thoughts in reviews.
