Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way shape or form. I do not claim to own him or anything else that may in fact be the thought of the lovely writer Jo Rowling is, please don't sue me. I do however own all original characters in whole or in part that appear in this story. This story is not HBP compliant, though quite a few things are taken from that book; again I own nothing except for the plot and original characters. Thank you for reading! –Gypsy Jade

Summary: Not fully HBP compliant. Harry starts having strange dreams and they all end the same, with unearthly silver eyes haunting him. Something is going on and for the first time in the last 10 years if not the history of Hogwarts two new teachers grace Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Chapter 18

The Weight on Her Shoulders

It had all happened so quickly, Harry wasn't sure his head could keep up with it all. Yamele's side was soaked with blood by the time they got her to Madame Pomfrey, the sticky substance clinging to the silk of her dress. He felt as if in a daze now, as he heard the mediwitch gasp at the state of the young professor, all the while asking questions his ears strained to hear and his brain fought to understand.

"Merlin what's gotten into you now Potter?" It wasn't until after he had helped Madame Pomfrey lay his cousin in a bed that Draco had turned and noticed Harry's state. Casting him a glance, the mediwitch's brow furrowed as she addressed the younger Malfoy.

"Looks like he's in shock, pull him to the bed behind you Mister Malfoy, and tell me what's happened to Professor Van Houten." Harry moved as if in a fog as Draco pulled him rather forcefully to sit on the bed he was told, he watched in silence unable to voice his concern as confusion clouded his brain of all that had happened. Was he really in shock?

"I don't know how much you know of my cousin, Madame Pomfrey, but Yamele was just in a rather nasty fight with a full bred vampire twice if not three times her age and magical strength." As Draco quickly retold what had just transpired in the Great Hall, Harry's vision blurred and his head swam. His heartbeat hitched and he found it difficult to breathe properly, what was happening to him? Luckily for him several things happened at once; Madame Pomfrey who had been busy casting diagnostic spells on Yamele, noticed Harry's trouble, Hermione (with the dagger that had wounded Yamele), Ron and Ginny all burst into the infirmary at the same time. It became difficult for him to focus now and with a throbbing in his head, that he was unsure might have started with his scar Harry fell, blackness gripping him and he heard no more.

She had looked like a fury, as she lunged at Damien in the Great Hall, that vision played over and over in his mind, even as he became aware of someone shaking him. He had seen a deadly side to her there, it had been in her very form, and every part of her body had screamed to him them how deadly she could be. And yet, he still trusted her, the little voice in his head screamed "Why?"

"Harry? Harry, are you alright?" His vision was blurred as he blinked a few times; he made out a fuzzy image of brown hair framing a face above him, he didn't have his glasses.

"Here are your glasses…" As the dizzy feeling faded he recognized his friend's voices, and took the glasses Hermione offered him. They were still in the Hospital Wing, though now he noticed a partition up a few beds to his left, and it seemed the commotion from earlier had been resolved. Ron and Ginny asleep in chairs nearby leaning one into the other he reached for his offered glasses.

"Thanks Hermione, what happened? Where's Yamele?" The reality and severity of what he had been witness to in the Great Hall suddenly crashed down on him like an unpleasant shower. He didn't quite understand all of what had happened, why that…Damien had attacked Yamele nor what the Council Chairwoman had meant with her words to him before she disappeared, but he knew Yamele was injured and that's all that mattered.

"She's resting for now. Madame Pomfrey has done all that she can, for tonight, she said it would be up to Professor Van Houten now to make it through the night." Hermione's voice was soft as she pointed over to the partition he had noticed before. Harry sat up, making himself dizzy again wanting to see Yamele for himself.

"Careful Harry, it seems that the dagger that wounded Professor Van Houten was poisoned, you and Malfoy absorbed some of the poison when you both came in contact with her wound." Harry shook his head as if to clear it as Hermione spoke, noticing now that the bed to his right held the blonde Slytherin. Hermione moved to prevent him from getting up but he had to see Yamele for himself. His body urged him to go to her and he couldn't fight it, nor did he really want to.

"I'm alright Hermione; I just want to see her for a moment…" Harry didn't quite recognize his own voice as it cracked, and wondered how long he had been out. Hermione's brow furrowed but she moved to support him rather than stop him. He offered his friend a half smile and steadied himself with her help.

"Be careful Harry…" Hermione had helped him up to the partition, but stepped back knowing he wanted some privacy. There was a look on his friend's face he couldn't quite place, a sort of resigned look in her eyes as she watched him. He wanted to ask her about it, but couldn't quite find his tongue and instead he turned to the woman on the bed behind the partition.

Harry had before noticed that Yamele's skin was much like porcelain, though it still held a glow of life that was unmistakable. But lying there in the hospital bed, her skin seemed devoid of all life, and he could see how close in age they truly were. She laid there, her lip split, bandaged and bruised from the fight; he wondered why Poppy hadn't healed her cuts magically as he stepped closer. He reached for her hand and shuddered at how cold it was as he looked at her face bathed in moonlight from the window. Her dark hair lay in an almost ring around her head, blocking out the white pillow but only serving to make her skin look even paler in comparison. He vaguely wondered if she weren't dead, but he could see her chest rise and fall from here, and though cold her hand was soft and easily fit in his. He found a chair next to her bed, and sank in it, wondering how this enchantress had managed to snare him so.

All of the warnings from everyone, the harsher words concerning her came rushing back to him then, though he didn't let go of her hand. He reached instead, switching hands so he could use his right hand up to her cheek, rubbing gently at her cool skin, his mind torn with all that he had seen tonight. He couldn't explain what he felt when he looked at her, he knew that any relationship with Yamele should be forbidden to him, and yet…it had felt so right to be with her. His stomach flipped when she was near, and a sense of belonging he had never known before coming to Hogwarts settled in him when he looked in her eyes. But he also couldn't help but wonder if he could handle a girl…no woman, like Yamele in his life. He had this deep desire to protect her when he saw her lunge at Damien, but there had been nothing for him to do. He knew she wasn't as frail as she looked, and yet he hadn't been able to breathe properly as he watched her fight. He had filled with pride to see her be so brave, and yet he had wanted to scold her for not letting them get her to Poppy sooner. She had made them wait though, knowing she still had things to do as Head of her people, and there was the real question. If this was truly love, or affection, or whatever it was, because Harry couldn't really put a name on any of the feelings that seemed to live in a vortex whenever she was near, would it be enough? She came from a much different world than he, didn't she? And yet…so much of what Yamele had told him, so much of the information he had been presented with didn't fully make sense to him. And even with all the questions he now had, he couldn't deny, as he rubbed her cheek idly, he still fully trusted her, though if nothing else became clear, he knew there were still secrets left untold by those full lips he was infatuated with. He vowed to learn more, and truly uncover her secrets, wanting more than anything to be worthy of her heart, though it seemed she had already given it to him.

Harry didn't remember falling asleep, but he awoke to the feeling of fingers gently playing with his hair. His eyes fluttered open, and he was met with swirling mercury orbs watching him. He had fallen asleep at an odd angle, facing Yamele awkwardly as one hand held hers and the other he could hardly feel.

"Yamele…" he cleared his throat as he sat up slowly, bones in his back popping in protest of the uncomfortable position he had been in. He rubbed the tingling arm that had fallen asleep, fixing his glasses slowly as she watched him.

"You didn't have to stay Harry…" her voice was much softer, and she looked exhausted though there was something else in those mercury eyes that he couldn't quite place.

"Of course I did…you were hurt…how do you feel? Do you need anything? Should I get someone?" He mentally slapped himself as his words rushed out, though he hadn't raised his voice much, not wanting to move away from her just yet. Yamele awarded him with a small smile, not even her split lip took away from her beauty.

"Honestly? I feel like shit…the dagger blindsided me, I didn't even see it coming…" She shrugged then and he noticed some slight amount of color was coming back to her, though she was still much paler than usual. He helped her sit up more, and Harry couldn't help but notice how incredibly human she looked…nothing like the imposing half breed vampire he saw last night.

"I don't think anyone did Yamele…even the other members of the Council looked surprised…" He rubbed his still half asleep hand on his face watching her, something seemed so wrong in this picture, if only he could place it…

"Neither Damien nor any in his clan are known for being that incredibly rash…even for a vampire. I'm sure everyone was shocked…" Harry watched as she leaned her head back slightly, her hand moving to rub her side gently where the bandages were. Something in her hair caught his eye, or rather something missing from her hair…

"Yamele?" Harry watched her move her head to focus on him, the swirling in her mercury eyes picking up again, as if she knew what he was about to ask.

"Where are your ribbons?" Ever since her first class, Harry had been able to notice the Veela ribbons in her hair. They were usually tied in at almost random usually offsetting the blonde streaks that changed colors with her mood. Thinking back, he hadn't seen them in her hair last night at the ball either. In his memory he could hear Draco's voice to the rest of the class, "…Professor VanHouten not being a full Veela, we, well you, don't know exactly what percentage of her actually channels her Veela nature…"

"I…didn't wear them last night…for the party." Her voice was even softer now, and Harry could tell she was holding her breath waiting when he'd ask more. He wondered if now was the best time for such a question, she was in the hospital wing after all. But a look into her eyes, and he knew she wanted him to ask. Yamele looked anxious to talk, a look he had never before seen on her face, well at least not since Remus burst in on them with news about the Council's decision.

"You're not just half Veela and half Vampire are you? That's why the Council of Elder's came to test you…" His voice was soft and calm, a lot calmer than what he felt as the words left his mouth. Before she could answer Harry knew he was speaking the truth, there was a look of astonishment on her face, mixed with pride and a hint of sorrow. His heart beat hard in his ears as if he had just taken a straight dive on his broom.

"No Harry, I'm not…" Her voice was still soft, but Harry couldn't bear to hear anything else that fell from her lips. He suddenly felt very claustrophobic, even though they were in the Hospital Wing, and only separated from the rest of the room by a partition. His confusion justified and apparent, that much he knew, as she watched him, not another word spoken. Silence passed between them as his brain searched for an answer or a clue or…

Harry blinked a few times, his eyes had wandered, not being able to look her in the face right now, and they came to land on a single object on the nightstand. Yamele's wand...could the answer be so simple?

"You're…a witch?" Suddenly with the word out in the open, Harry knew it was true. And it explained so much about Yamele's demeanor. She seemed so incredibly human…because underneath everything her family was, or seemed to be, she was in fact a born witch. There was a shorter silence as she watched him for a few moments before she spoke again.

"My great-great-great-great grandmother on my mother's side…was a witch who married a very powerful and very wild male Veela. But her magical abilities were not passed on to any of her numerous children, or their children. They were all just Veelas…until I was born. Apparently my father's vampire magic…was enough to reawaken the witch line." Yamele wasn't looking at him as she spoke, her eyes were closed and her voice still soft. That explained why she could use a wand and witchcraft.

"Why not just call yourself a witch then?" Harry still didn't fully understand, why so much about the other parts of her heritage but not this one.

"The Ministry won't allow it…neither of my parents were witch nor wizard…nor human" Yamele's voice was cold as she spoke, and her eyes now open were angry and sad though still did not look at him.

"Well that's bullocks…that's like saying Hermione isn't a witch because her parents are muggles, or that the Delacour girls aren't witches because their mother is a Veela…" Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes at the whole prospect.

"It has more to do with how no one can figure out how I got magical abilities like my great-great-great-great grandmother without another wizard being added to the equation…I think." Yamele shrugged slightly though he could still see the same slight confusion in her eyes as she had expressed when he figured out she was part vampire.

"They don't want to admit you're human…even though your parents are technically not…The Ministry is full of a bunch of power hungry empty headed witches and wizards who can't even admit Voldemort is still around…unless they see a Norwegian dragon crap him out in front of them. What in blazes do they know?" And though he wasn't anymore sure of where this left them, Harry couldn't help but smile lopsidedly at what he heard next.

Yamele's laughter slowly filled the room as her mercury orbs found his emerald eyes and Harry wondered if everything in the magical world he so loved, had to be so damn complicated.

Author's Note: So a few things in no particular order, I'm not sure why I named this chapter the way I did, I realized that up until now I hadn't explained what was meant with "how much of her Veela nature Yamele channels" or why she had and could use a wand. So there you go, Yamele on the surface appears to be a lot of things she's not, and all because of her heritage. My working theory is that Yamele is born a natural witch, much in the same way that a muggle born is, though perhaps it makes a bit more sense this way. That is to say, if it is completely "accepted" that to non-magical humans can have a magical child, then why couldn't two sentient magical beings (after all Veelas and Vampires could be classified as magical creatures) have a magical child? The vampire in her being stronger than the Veela she also has Vampire magic and only her looks and "charms" come from her Veela heritage. It made since in my head, then again I'm writing this at 3 am to be posted shortly. Let me know what you guys think in reviews, email, or pms. Thank you for reading~Jade