Disclaimer: Insert rant about the gross incompetence of all the leadership of the various groups in the Harry Potter series.

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"Mr. Potter, may I have a word with you, please?" A voice behind him asked. Standing, Harry turned to see Fleur, her parents, and her little sister standing there.

"Um, sure, sir." Harry replied. "What did you need?"

"Come now, none of that sir, nonsense." The man replied. "Call me Jean-Paul."

"I'm sorry sir, but the only way I would feel comfortable addressing you so informally, would be as dad." Harry replied. "So unless I've been obliviated of what was likely your daughter's ridiculously expensive, but beautiful and well worth it, dream wedding, and a wedding night and honeymoon that I doubt I'd have forgotten otherwise, that just isn't an option."

Harry was confused when Fleur and Gabrielle both turned to their father with meaningful looks on their faces, and Mrs. Dalacour said something in French that made him chuckle.

"In that case Mr. Potter, would you be willing to marry my daughter?" Jean-Paul asked the young man standing in front of him. "I'm afraid that my wife has decided to keep you, and both Fleur and Gabrielle seem to agree."

Harry gaped at the man, before his eyes flicked over to Fleur who was now whispering furiously to her mother. "Um, not that she's not absolutely gorgeous, but I don't know Fleur well enough to marry her."

The round bellied man just laughed. Apparently there was a joke he was missing, because the woman who could only be Fleur's mother, and the adorable little girl who'd been introduced as her little sister joined him.

"I'm sorry for the confusion, but I was referring to my youngest, Gabrielle."

"Sir, no offense, but on top of the argument I used for Fleur, I can honestly say that I'm not attracted to children." This brought an especially musical giggle from the MILF; not that he'd say that aloud.

"Hello Harry Potter, I am Appolline Delacour, and I've heard quite a bit about your daring rescue of my daughter. Though I must admit, I'm curious to learn how she watched you valiantly fight your way into the Mervillage, continuously fight off waves of merpeople to keep the hostages safe until their champions retrieved them, and then not only rescued your own hostage, but fended off a couple dozen more Mermen to save both her life and her virtue; all of this while she is under an enchanted sleep."

"I'm not sure myself, ma'am." Appolline smiled a smile that he knew wasn't meant to be seductive, but still was regardless. "Then again, there's a lot of things that I'm supposed to have done that I have no recollection of. According to hearsay, and a certain book series, I'm almost as epicly badass as Merlin."

"Harry, may I call you Harry?" Harry nodded. "How old do you think my daughter is?"

"I'd peg her as eight, maybe nine max."

"Gabrielle will be fifteen in six weeks." Harry's stupified expression was mirrored on every face. "Veela maturity is...well, I guess the only way to describe it is awkward. Sometime between their thirteenth and fifteenth birthday, they will sit inside a prepared runic circle, and undergo a, for lack of a better term, molting of their childhood forms. It is said that the longer a Veela retains her child like form, the more in tune with her heritage she is, and the more traits of the Veela she exhibits.(1)"

In all honesty, it was much more gruesome than that, in a medically fascinating sort of way. While not disgusting or traumatizing, it was very unpleasant, both to witness and experience. She would have gladly traded in the unnatural beauty for the chance to be spared that, and Appolline knew quite a few others who would agree with her. She didn't think Harry, nor the others eavesdropping needed to hear that part, nor about the fact that mature Veela lacked a hymen because it broke down, and left the body along with the first menstrual cycle. It was amusing how, despite being a teenager in a child's body, Veela still tended towards some childish displays until their molting; as evidenced by Gabrielle's tale of her rescue.

The silence of her explanation was broken by a rapid string of French that had Jean-Paul's eyes widening, Fleur's face turning crimson, her mother and Madam Maxime's faces taking on scandalized expressions, and several of the other Beauxbatons students, mostly the girls, giggling like Lavender and Parvati around a cute boy. Harry didn't understand what the older Veela said back either, but the tone spoke of being mildly angry.

"Do I want to know?" Harry asked, seeing Hermione's reddened face, and guessing she understood what was said.

"Well, Gabrielle just asked a very personally invasive question," She said blushing. "-Mrs. Delacour quite vehemently refused, and said that they'd be discussing where she learned such language, as well as why you don't ask questions like that in public. No, I will not translate what she said."

She didn't have to, as one of the girls from Beauxbatons had no qualms about embarrassing others. One look at her expression and demeanor, and in a years time, Harry wouild have likened her to be a combination of the worst traits of Marietta Edgecombe and Pansy Parkinson.

"Ze girl asked 'er muzzer to find out 'ow beeg your cock ees." Harry almost glared at the spiteful girl, but just barely held it in.

Never let it be said that a Gryffindor ever passed up the chance to put a haughty bitch in her place, and Angelina Johnson certainly wasn't going to do so. "Let's just say that since he reaches the age of consent this summer, if I weren't already spoken for, I think I might take full advantage of the coed showers after Quidditch practices and games next year."

"Well I'm not." Leanne piped up, teasingly. She'd been on good acquaintanceship with Harry since being introduced during a quidditch after party by Katie. "What do you say Katie, care to help me exploit the system? As I don't play, I'll need an inside woman to let me in the showers. I'll even share with you occasionally."

Gabrielle turned, stared Leanne up and down for several seconds before nodding, and letting loose a quick string of French. When eyes turned to Hermione, she knew she wasn't getting out of it. "All I'll say is that the girl obviously knows what she wants. By the way Leanne, I hope you really don't mind sharing, as she expects you to thoroughly train him to be able to handle at least two women at once."

Both Leanne, who had been teasing Harry, and Katie blushed.

"Am I the only one who finds it odd that the professors are just standing there watching this?" Neville asked.

"Didn't you know, Nev," Harry asked teasing his dormmate. "-in level of importance, the daily soap opera that is my disaster filled life takes precedent over everything else. And yes, Professor Snape, I'm well aware that my ego has just grown to almost half as big as Malfoy's now."

"How can you be so calm about this?" Harry didn't recognize the voice, but then again, he barely even knew the others in his own year.

"Honestly, after the Dursleys, a troll, a cerberus, a possessed teacher, spiders the size of autos," Ron shuddered in remembrance. "-a basilisk, dementors, this tournament, and Voldemort, if I panicked every time something monumentally odd and life changing happened to me, I'd be wound tighter than Professor McGonagall's bun."

"That's actually a very accurate and frighteningly true statement." Hermione admitted.

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1. Full blood Veela automatically transform between 15-16, while mixed bloods go from 13-15. Appolline and Fleur were around fourteen, and Gabrielle will go a few weeks after turning fifteen.