.

~~(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)~~

Standard Disclaimer:
"No gift baskets for the reviewers this time?" asked Emily.

"No time," replied Thorber, "we're already weeks behind schedule, and the big boss upstairs wants us to share a quick reply to…"

Thorber looked down at the paper in his hands, and read aloud for the audience, "Scribbling Steve; he's concerned over Harry's conduct in the last chapter, where Harry left his friends fates to chance whilst he took out some serious rage and pent-up issues on Walden Macnair, and thought that rather out of character."

Thorber glanced up directly at Scribbling Steve, and said, "Well, sir, Triage Inc. wishes for you to be aware that Harry was quite unconcerned about his friends safety because, quite frankly, Harry was raised by a revenant who committed murder right in front of him and is now pseudo-raising him as a parent for some unknown reason. Suffice to say, he may not have the best grasp on morality, mortality, and social norms."

"Oooh, tell him about the other two!" said Emily.

"I was going to, Miss Stone. Calm yourself," muttered Thorber, "yes, as my esteemed colleague was saying, Ron and Hermione are a little…unhinged…themselves, something you'll slowly see over the next few chapters. It's either going to fall out all at once, or it'll slowly unravel with time. These characters are almost writing themselves, and we're just along for the ride."

"And with that said," Emily took over, "we would like you to know that Triage Inc. does not own Harry Potter, the movies, Warner Brothers, or anything related to the Potterverse. We're just taking creative liberties to abuse the characters and put them in ridiculous situations that canon would never allow."

"Enjoy the story, folks," said Thorber, who was now abusing a certain rat animagus who was conveniently tied up like a Pinata, and he was using a heavy tire iron to do the whacking.

Author's Notes: Back to Fleur's perspective for this chapter. I was not feeling well or was busy with work the last few weeks. Hence the delay in updating. I was also struggling for motivation to keep writing. Planning to try and create enough chapter buffers over the next week so I can post on a regular basis, probably once every sunday. Keep an eye out for that.

Special thanks to Zevoros for editing, brainstorming and moral support.

Also, I apologise if I messed up the French or Bulgarian languages. I'm not a native speaker of either language, and relied entirely on Google Translate. Please read and review.

Fleur Delacour and the Secret of the Teardrop
By Triage
Chapter 3: The Ice In My Heart

Fleur closed her eyes and took deep, calming breaths. She could do this. She could do this. The French delegation arrived a good few minutes before the Bulgarians, who were coming in by ship. From what Fleur saw of the Black Lake, there was no natural access from the oceans, and no rivers connected to it. They were landlocked and up in the mountains. She surmised, given that there was a legendary colossal squid and merfolk and other magical creatures within the fresh waters, it must mean that the merfolk had built some kind of magical water portal that allowed them to move into or out of the lake.

The Durmstrang ship had breached the surface of the water and docked at the port. Did they just crush all the small Hogwarts boats on the way in? She shook her head and lightly squeezed Gabrielle's hand, who had been clutching her since they stepped out of the carriage. One of the abraxan's nickered when she walked past, and Fleur patted its side, her hand raised well over her head to do so. She was standing behind the Headmistress, and behind Fleur and Gabrielle by a few feet, were the rest of the French representative students, led by Océane.

She studied the courtyard they were in while they waited for Madame Maxime to decide to move, or await a guide. It was a fairly narrow courtyard with a large clock tower ahead. Viewing turrets and walls surrounded the courtyard, and the south entrance from which they came from were guarded by two small arrow towers. The walls were a dirty aged muddy-yellow in colour and the tiles of the tall conical tower roofs were dull murky blue, giving the castle a decidedly aged look, but Fleur admitted to herself it suited the imposing castle well.

Their wait ended when some fairies with unusually bright glows and colours flitted out from the entrance of the clock tower. Their high pitched giggling and tinkling noises drew everyone's attention. They circled the Headmistress, then Fleur and Gabrielle, and then Océane, before one stopped before the half-Giantess and the three Veela, beckoning them to follow, and they hurriedly flitted back where they came from, leaving sparkling motes of light as a trail the French students could easily follow. Madame Maxime nodded, and began to walk. Her stride was so great, even though she seemed to be moving at a sedate pace, Fleur and most of the students had to move at a brisk jog, while Gabrielle and the few students of her age group had to just outright run.

The fairies would flit around for a while, and as soon as the French could see them, they were off again, leaving more sparks and motes of light in all colours. Fleur felt dizzy and confused after the seventh turn, the fifth corridor, third staircase and two open-air walkways, and they weren't even at the appointed Viaduct Courtyard yet! How did anyone find their way in this frighteningly large castle?! Gabrielle clearly felt the same as she was half–hugging Fleur now. Maybe she was making an unfair assessment, but she personally thought Beauxbatons was much much better, and easier to navigate. Also, the castle was cold.

Fleur personally loved that, but she knew that her peers and the others would not. It was still only September, and Fall was only just beginning, but the Castle seemed to be in a hurry to put a chill on everyone. Gabrielle was shivering despite her winter cloak. Fleur took her wand in her left hand to put a warming charm on her sister.

"Merci, ma soeur," said Gabrielle with a tight smile.

Fleur smiled back at her. They went through several more stairs, corridors and walkways before they finally reached the blessed Viaduct Courtyard, which was somewhat wider and longer than the Clock Tower Courtyard they'd been in just now. A delegation of Hogwarts students and faculty stood just below the steps into the Entrance Hall. As the French arrived, the Durmstrang students and faculty just cleared the narrow stairways from the Boathouse. The timing of their arrival was impeccable.

The Bulgarian school's Headmaster, Igor Karkaroff, seemed incapable of smiling or looking friendly. He wore a mostly black ensemble with a thick fur-lined coat, heavy boots, and an ornate, elaborately carved staff.

Actually, all the Durmstrang students were holding similar looking staves. Fleur idly wondered if they used that instead of wands. Or if it was just for their entry presentation. Unlike their Headmaster, the students wore a bright red uniform with black trousers or skirts and boots, finished by gold filigree. Their clothing all looked very warm, but Fleur supposed it was really necessary due to the rumoured location of their school being on a hilltop even higher above sea level than Hogwarts was. She found she liked looking at their attire. It seemed more vibrant and strong compared to the Beauxbatons' powder blue uniform with white trousers or stockings, and laced shoes, finished by chrome silver trims.

Fleur felt a tingling sensation in her magic and she turned to look at Océane. It seemed her former Veela friend was letting go of her control of the Allure. The male contingent of all three schools had a variety of reactions, but they all began to pay attention to Océane.

Good, thought Fleur, that means they won't pay me much attention, or Gabrielle.

She memorised the spells and the moves she needed to do, as well as the timing. The musicians of Hogwarts had been informed ahead of time, Fleur assumed. She remembered having private tutoring by Ministry instructors the week before they were to leave for England. She assumed she was learning alone and would be doing the presentation alone because of her Repulsion. Even though she had all but put it on a stranglehold, people still felt the effects. Coupled with the rumours of her deadly tears, and no one wanted to be near her if they could help it. Which was why she thought it odd that they'd have her do the entrance performance alone. Won't that just make people dislike Beauxbatons?

Both the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang delegations, almost a hundred people in total, stood side-by-side, facing the welcoming committee of Hogwarts. Beside her Headmistress, Fleur could finally see the English students clearly. She idly realised that some Beauxbatons students had moved to stand beside her and across on the other side of Madame Maxime. Océane's expression was now more pleasant and friendly, rather than her usual stoic, stony look. Fleur's eyes widened as she openly stared at the other Veela, who pointedly looked ahead. Getting the hint, Fleur lowered her gaze for a moment, before lifting her head to look at the Hogwarts students.

Her gaze fell on a number of students who stood by each other: two redheads, a bushy-haired brunette, a tiny girl with straggly dirty-blonde hair and a somewhat chubby boy with sandy-brown hair. In front of them, a boy with messy raven hair and the brightest green eyes she'd ever seen was looking at Océane with what she could describe best as a very irritated expression. It threw Fleur off. She knew that Océane's Allure was quite powerful, and all were feeling it right now. So by rights, they'd all be looking at her with dreamy expressions or drooling, or even trying to run towards her.

Admittedly, Fleur's Repulsion would offset the Allure a little, so perhaps that was why the men were all looking more resistant. But that green-eyed boy, he didn't seem to like Océane at all. He had one arm extended partway out, and was blocking the lanky redhead boy from lurching forward.

Océane also seemed to notice, and was mystified to see his expression. If he were interested in men, he would simply not have reacted at all. Irritation was a first for all the Veela present.

"Delacour," said Océane under her breath, "baissez votre prise."

Lower my hold? wondered Fleur, Oh…

Complying, Fleur relaxed her hold on her Repulsion, and she also exhaled in relief. She felt a bit better as a result. Her Repulsion had been getting stronger ever since she'd completely let go when she duelled with Jean-Paul Cartier, since then, it felt like a living thing within her that wanted to be let out all the time, and holding on to it, controlling it, was almost a physical effort now.

As she reduced her control of her effect, she saw a number of reactions: most of the males present looked a little more composed, and the green-eyed boy was now looking at Fleur with interest. She blinked, utterly baffled by his reaction. Was he...did he actually like the feel of the Repulsion?!

She got briefly distracted by a girl with deep golden hair and the sunniest disposition she'd ever seen on anyone, accompanied by a hyperactive little owl with a sombrero and poncho. It was her cousin, Daphne Greengrass, on her father's side. The girl was frantically waving at Fleur as if her life depended on it. As she was family, she was somewhat unaffected by the Repulsion, along with Daphne's own natural cheeriness.

The evening sky was dark, and she knew everyone would like to get inside soon, when she first felt, then saw, a change in the air and the brightness of the environment around them. The sky began to brighten as a beam of light shot down from the skies to the ground between the Hogwarts students and the French and Bulgarian delegation. The beam turned into a bright, white-gold pillar of light and with an expanding flash, Albus Dumbledore appeared, dressed in a robe of shining purple and a deep-red sunhat, with neon green patterns all along the sleeves and sides of his attire.

It was, frankly, eye-wateringly painful to look at for long.

The shining fairies from earlier flitted all around the Hogwarts Headmaster, who, as he stretched out his palms to the French and Bulgarians, had fairies lighting on each palm. The younger students from both visiting nations were cooing at the Headmaster's style, even Gabrielle.

"Welcome, welcome all, to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," said the venerable wizard, he briefly looked at Fleur and smiled, then addressed Madame Maxime, "Madame Maxime, bienvenue à Poudlard."

The Headmistress smiled and inclined her head, accepting the welcome in French. The Headmaster's accent was quite good.

He then turned to Mr. Karkarof, "Gospodin Karkarov, privet stvam te s dobre doshŭl v Khoguorts."

The Durmstrang Headmaster arched his eyebrow, then looked at the giggling fairies in annoyance, but finally he bowed to Dumbledore.

"I'm sure you all must be worn and hungry," said Dumbledore, "if you will follow my students, the Great Hall is just this way, we may complete all pleasantries, and proceed to the best part of the evening, I'm sure."

As he gestured towards the castle, the doors of the Entrance opened by themselves, and all the fairies, alight in all colours, flitted inside. The students all turned and began marching in, except the green-eyed boy, who kept his gaze on Fleur as long as he could, then finally joined his friends. Fleur was both intrigued and disturbed. No one had ever looked at her that way before. She wasn't sure if she liked it or not. The Headmaster of Hogwarts glanced at her and smiled, a twinkle in his eye, making Fleur give a small start.

"Bonne chance, ma soeur," said Gabrielle.

She hugged Fleur tightly, then scampered to the back with a small handful of students close to her own age. They were amongst the brightest students of their class groups. With a sigh, Fleur prepared for the most awkward performance in history.

That was when she noticed she was marching into the Great Hall of the school, and the French students were still keeping up with her, and the Headmistress too!

Eyes widening, Fleur realised belatedly this was not going to be a solo performance. She'd been trained separately for the sake of the students, but she was at the actual event, leading the group. A timid glance to her left and right showed everyone with tight expressions. No wonder! Between her Repulsion and Océane's Allure, it was creating a conflicting mix. Since both were blasting it hard, it didn't cancel each other out, but instead made people torn between wanting to flee or stay put.

Clamping down on her effect, it allowed the other Veela to start drawing attention again, except probably from that green-eyed boy. She stood before the doors to the Great Hall, which remained closed, and she could hear the muffled voice of the Hogwarts Headmaster announcing to the rest of the student body the arrivals of the Beauxbatons students, and the doors swung open.

A melodious tune accompanied them along with the polite applause of the Hogwarts students as they moved forward in graceful motions, the French students cast their conjuring spells silently, or ahead of time, and as they unclasped their hands, glowing blue butterflies flew forth. A few students wore sparkly, colourful leotards, and they leapt, vaulted and somersaulted alongside the uniformed Beauxbatons' students. The girls would slow and lean to the left or the right with a gentle sigh and released more butterflies as they extended their hands in a dainty manner.

The gymnasts created a temporary trail of flowers, grass, conjured bees and birds wherever their palms or feet landed, accompanied by the harmonious twittering of the avians. Fleur counted the time in her head as she made all the flowing gestures of her dance. She saw from her peripherals that she, or the other students, kept in time with her, but her former Veela friend outshone everyone else in performance. Her grace and poise were flawless. So it felt odd that Fleur had been put in the front centre whilst Océane was to the side. Either way, the performance was mercifully over.

They were assigned to what was called the Ravenclaw's table, which had a banner of…an eagle? Not a raven? Odd.

"Thank you for that most gracious display, Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "and now, please welcome, the Durmstrang contingent!"

Whoops and cheers and howls accompanied the applause this time for the Durmstrang students. Fleur remained standing by her seat with the rest of the student body, joining in the applause as the male contingent led their introductory performance.

War drums and the sound of bass horns accompanied the men of Durmstrang. Their very footsteps thundered as they marched forcefully and purposefully. Fleur had no doubt anyone standing in their way right then would be trampled right over. Sparks and bolts arced from beneath their boots and the staves in their hands sounded like the booming of a gavel as they struck the ground twice every four steps. Their bodies trailed wisps of smoke and ember, giving them an ominous, intimidating air as they glowered about. Instead of stunning the student body into silence, however, the Hogwarts contingent, especially the boys, were cheering all the louder.

They flipped their staves masterfully into the other hand, repeated the double slams as before, then twirled the staff back to the right hand. Viktor Krum predictably was leading the contingent. The women marched in from behind, carrying somewhat slimmer versions of the staves used by the men, but they were no less forceful or impressive. When they reached the front, they spread out before the four tables, and one student stood before each, holding out their staff with both hands, while the rest imitated the hand and staff positions but knelt down, glaring ahead.

This time the Beauxbatons students enthusiastically applauded the Durmstrang performance along with the Hogwarts students, but Fleur noticed several of them slipping out the door. They were probably going to do something as well.

"A most outstanding performance," said a smiling Dumbledore even before the applause had completely died down, "and for today, to welcome you both, before we tuck in for the feast prepared by our house elves, we would like to show you some of Hogwarts' finest magical…"

He had not finished his words when two whooping boys drew everyone's attention to themselves as they zoomed into the halls on the backs of brooms. Rings of pure golden light appeared ahead, created by Dumbledore, just as all the enchanted candles vanished.

They were redheads, and twins, from Fleur's observation, as they skillfully flew around the Hall overhead, throwing what looked like firecrackers with wild abandon. None of those fireworks hit anybody or even reached anywhere near the heads of a person as they lighted up and began to fly in chaotic patterns that illuminated the chamber, the Headmaster pointed with his fingers at the various fireworks and sent out colourful spheres of bright lights when any impacted the fireworks, they dispersed the fireworks in a shower of sparks and pops, then remained in place.

The redhead twins flew through the hoops, whooping and hollering as they were now being pursued by fairies and lighted spheres. More students from each of the four Hogwarts houses showed up on brooms, enchanted dirigible plums, or of all things, semi-solid thunderclouds. The bushy-haired girl Fleur saw earlier was leading in a small army of what she thought were cute fuzzy hamsters…only hamsters didn't have long, leathery tails, dragon wings and breathed fire.

How did they breed dragons and hamsters together?

Fleur had to duck when one of these hamster-dragons winged overhead, exhaling a ball of fire at one of the lighted spheres, and the sphere exploded into flames of the same colour as it had been. Although it was predominantly white and gold, the hues of red, green, blue, violet, orange and other shades in between made for a beautiful cascade of illumination that cast the entire Hall in a most lovely and vibrant detail. But that was not all.

The initially bare long wooden tables were suddenly covered over by a long white cloth with gold trim and filigree that hadn't been there before. The chairs were now cushioned in the primary colours of the various four houses, and cutlery, plates, platters and cups floated over to the tables, guided by the other students who were flying around or floating on top of the dirigible plums. The students on the thunderclouds were attacking the spheres as well, seemingly aiding the redhead twins who were still releasing more fireworks and Dumbledore was still creating bright golden rings for them to fly through as well as making more bright colourful spheres.

It was wildly chaotic and fun, Fleur realised, and she felt envious that they seemed to be able to engage in such frivolous behaviour without worrying that someone might throw a curse at their backs. The fairies were starting to light on top of the spheres that matched their own colours and were relaxing while the students kept up their energetic noise-making and laughter.

"WELCOME, WELCOME!" cried one of the twins, "TO HOGWARTS!"

At the cry of the name, both twins turned to face the crowds high up in the air, on either side of the staff table, and they released one last firework each which exploded into the pattern of winged boars and the name of the school in bright white-gold letters flashed into being between them.

The population from all schools broke into exuberant cheer and applause, which turned to pleased gasps as food magically appeared on every table.

"No more need to stand on ceremony," said Dumbledore, "please, tuck in."

~ O ~

"Hello," said a placid, high-pitched voice, and Fleur barely suppressed a squeak.

Looking over to her right side, she was very surprised to see protuberant grey eyes framed by long straggly dirty blonde hair staring at her very intently. The girl was petite, with a waifish build, and it took a moment longer for Fleur to realise this girl was hip-to-hip with her.

Gabrielle, who was seated on her other side, had just noticed this Hogwarts student sitting superbly close to Fleur, and smiled.

"Uhm...b-bonjour? 'Ow can I hel-why are you zitting zo near me?" asked Fleur.

In lieu of answering, the small girl blinked those large eyes, and then said, "I'm intrigued by how my brain is screaming at me to run far away. So naturally, I want to find out more. Are you a Veela?"

Fleur blinked, this girl blinked back, and Fleur blinked again.

"I am, oui," said Fleur, "I am Fleur Delacour. Zis is my sister, Gabrielle."

"Hello Fleur Delacour, hello Gabrielle," replied the girl, "I'm Luna Lovegood. Did you like the Durmstrang entrance?"

"Uhm…" said Fleur eloquently, then she added, "...oui, I did."

She really had been distracted by their strength and forcefulness. It was attractive, and she'd briefly fantasised about living in Bulgaria and attending Durmstrang. The added sweetener to that deal would be the Veela enclaves there. Surely one of them would be more than willing to take her in, maybe help her understand her reversed powers and abilities.

"I thought the French entrance was nicer," Luna said in a distracted tone, "the butterflies were a nice touch."

"Merci," said Fleur, "did you really like eet?"

"You're welcome, and yes, of course," replied Luna, "I would not have said so otherwise, would I?"

Fleur was still struggling with the fact that there was someone who wasn't a relative or Daphne Greengrass (nobody knew what went through that girl's head) who was holding a conversation with her and not making a face of disgust or revulsion. In fact, this was undoubtedly the longest conversation she'd held with a non-relative that she can recall. And according to Luna, she felt the revulsion, but instead of following the logical reaction, she did the exact opposite.

"Hungry," Luna announced suddenly, "is there any pudding left?"

"Here," said Gabrielle suddenly, reaching around her sister to put a plate of fresh pudding in front of Luna, who turned her wide eyes and presented a grateful smile.

"Thank you ever so much," said Luna.

She began to eat her pudding, and Fleur too returned to her meal. Luna still hadn't detached herself from Fleur or made any indication that she wanted to move. Looking around, her eyes fell on the Hogwarts Headmaster's throne, for lack of a better word. It was very ornate, with a copy of all four Hogwarts house animals extending from both sides. The design was most resplendent, with perfectly cut jewels encrusted into it, refracting the light that the Headmaster was prone to releasing. In fact, the man had an ethereal glow surrounding him even now.

His eyes briefly settled on her, and she noted the twinkle in his eyes and his warm smile. She couldn't help smiling back, one of the few she'd ever given in her life.

Twisting her neck a little, Fleur tried to maintain her hold on her Repulsion, but as she had noted, ever since her duel, it was getting harder to hold on to it.

"So is it like a muscle you're flexing all the time?" asked Luna suddenly, making Fleur jump a little.

"Oui," said Fleur, "a leetle bit."

"You must be tired," Luna said vaguely, "why don't you relax it a little?"

"I don't think zat ees a good idea…" said Fleur.

She glanced over at the rest of the French students, all of whom were giving her, Gabrielle and Luna a wide berth, if she let it down now, without any professors buffering the people from the full strength, she'd create pandemonium and chaos. Unless Océane willingly let down her own control over her Allure, to offset the full effect of her Repulsion. While Gabrielle was right next to her, she was also only eight, and she wasn't anywhere near full strength, and it was never wise to let a Veela child not maintain control for a variety of reasons.

But the suggestion was oh so tempting.

Luna was looking at her with those wide, dreamy eyes, but there seemed to be a hint of hope behind them, for some reason. And Fleur, against her better judgement, yielded to temptation.

Little by little, she released her hold on the power, feeling herself easing and relaxing a bit, but when heads rapidly swivelled in her direction, Fleur felt it. Océane had noticed her lowering her hold on the Repulsion, and immediately tightened her control on her Allure, meaning Fleur had to grip her Repulsion in full control once more really quickly, before people attacked her, fled, or did both. Sighing, she spared a glance towards the other Veela, and surmised she was still hostile towards Fleur. The other Veela pointedly did not turn to look at Fleur or speak.

Any sombre thoughts were thrown away when Luna suddenly lay her head against her side. "L-Luna?!"

"It's so remarkably repulsive," said Luna with a dreamy hum, "I've never felt anything quite like it. Perhaps the wrackspurts have gone into my head."

What are wrackspurts?! Fleur wondered.

"Mmm, may I have my arm back, please?" asked Fleur, "I still need eet to eat."

"Okay."

The little blonde girl seemed disappointed but her dreamy smile said otherwise. She seemed very much off.

But not giving it too much thought for the time being, Fleur resumed eating her meal. Not ten minutes later, Gabrielle gently pats at her arm, getting her attention.

"Fleur, I would like some bouillabaisse," she said.

Fleur nodded and turned, only to see the nearer French students had sharp hearing, and had proceeded to move the pot with the desired dish far out of reach of the sisters and Luna. The latter for her part watched with a fixed distracted smile and look, but Fleur felt the girl stiffening, and her fist clenching tightly on the table.

She turned to Gabrielle, a placating response on her lips when she looked into the most pleading eyes, and sighed internally. She could never say no to Gabrielle when she did that, no matter how bratty, but Gabrielle was never a brat…fortunately.

"Perhaps you could ask the people of the Gryffindor table," said Luna.

Her statement, though said placidly and quietly, still surprised Fleur, who'd jumped again, still unused to having anyone willing to be so near her and not giving her a look of disgust. But Luna was not looking at her, and was instead looking towards a small cadre of friends who were sitting together and at the same time apart from the rest of the table.

Chief among them was that green-eyed boy with messy dark hair. Were all the boy's friends as peculiar as Luna? Were they all unaffected by her Repulsion? Even if the reasons were unknown, it filled Fleur with deep hope, and she ruminated on getting up to approach them. Gabrielle had started bouncing on her seat a little. When the girl wanted something, she made it known.

"Pleeeeeease?"

Followed by deep pleading.

"Okay, okay," said Fleur.

She took a few deep breaths, clamped down her Repulsion as hard as she could, and rose. The Beauxbatons students looked at her, even Océane threw a quick glance before paying attention to her empty bowl. What did they think she would do?

Setting them aside as a problem for another day, Fleur resolutely marched towards the Gryffindor table, leaving silent interest in her wake. As she got nearer, the redheaded boy next to the green-eyed boy was eating heartily whilst conversing energetically, until she got nearer, then he stopped talking and looked up, causing all the others in this group to turn as one and observe her approach. This almost had her stopping and turning around to go right back, hang the bouillabaisse.

But she didn't feel it fair that Gabrielle be denied something as simple as a dish simply because of her proximity and relation to Fleur, so she mustered all courage she had left and kept walking until she was close enough to the table. As she did, she lost her struggle to control her Repulsion and the slip up yielded immediate results. The bushy-haired girl, the redhead, the sandy-blonde boy all recoiled or moved away. with the girl biting back a tiny shriek.

The green-eyed boy, however...instead of leaning away himself, leaned forward, a look of obvious attraction on his face.

This action startled Fleur so much, she lost even more control, and now others close by at the Gryffindor table also were leaning away from her. And this she expected, but the boy...the strange boy! Fleur was flabbergasted. It was called a Repulsion for a reason!

"Excusez-moi, s'il vous plaît," said Fleur, and then reminded herself she was in England, "Sorry, but I was wonzerin', uhm…if I might have s-some of ze bouillabaisse if you…if you have finished with it?"

She was getting ready to leap back in case they started cursing her, and belatedly tried to stamp down her Repulsion at the last minute. It did relax the students somewhat, but for that raven-haired boy, who looked disappointed. Maybe he was related to Luna somehow.

"Not a problem at all," said the boy, "I don't think we're much for the seafood dish here."

He lifted up the whole pot and stretched his hands over to give it directly to her. She accepted it and gave him a weak smile, which he returned rather enthusiastically.

She shook her head. "Pardon, monsieur, I am…Fleur Delacour…uhm…m-may I know your name, please?"

"Harry. Harry Potter."

Fleur smiled again. "Merci, Monsieur Potter. My sister very much loves zis…uhm…I should get back to her. Thank you…again."

She headed back to the table, and told Gabrielle, "All ze bouillabaisse you could eat, I hope you're very hungry."

Gabrielle beamed up at Fleur and hugged her tightly. She blinked when she found Luna had once again settled herself directly against her flank. Glancing over at the table where Harry sat, his friends were animatedly talking to him. They'd noticed his reactions. And quite frankly, Fleur wanted answers to that too.

~ O ~

"Well!" said Dumbledore enthusiastically, "I trust you've thoroughly enjoyed a meal, I understand those to be the most enjoyable after a long, long journey. But there is just one more item of business we need address before we retire for the night."

He rose from his resplendent throne and strode around the table to the floor between the four tables. He pinched his thumb and fingers between an invisible line and moved his arm downwards, causing a wand to slowly appear out of thin air and hover there until the Headmaster grasped it and began to wave it about. Slabs of a marble column began to fly out from all directions to build themselves up into a pedestal, and a scruffy looking man with an equally scruffy looking cat entered the hall, hefting a large object shaped like a overlarge cup.

The crowds gasped in awe as they beheld the Goblet of Fire.

A white glow surrounded Dumbledore as he began to speak, while a few spheres of light and fairies began to orbit around the man and the Goblet very slowly.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr Crouch and Mr Bagman," said Dumbledore, referring to the organisers, who sat at the staff table, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways...their magical prowess - their daring - their powers of deduction - and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing.

"As you know, three champions compete in the Tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks, which determines who gets the largest head start for the third and final task. The champion who claims the Triwizard Cup at the end is the winner. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector...the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore gripped his wand, and tapped three times upon the top of the roughly-hewn wooden cup, largely unremarkable, until it abruptly began to alight, full to the brim with dancing, blue-white flames. He gestured casually towards the goblet, and the fairies previously orbiting around him and the goblet now circled over the rim of the goblet alone, making high-pitched noises as they communicated excitedly in their language to each other.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment, and drop it into the Goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have until the thirtieth of October in which to put their names forward. Then, on the day after that, on Hallowe'en, the Goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The Goblet will be placed in the Entrance Hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," said Dumbledore, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the Entrance Hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this Tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the Tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the Goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are whole-heartedly prepared to play, before you drop your name into the Goblet."

Fleur pondered on all of this. They had about over a month-and-a-half to consider their decisions and choices. On one hand, that was a lot of time for deliberation, but in a way, that helped set in the gravity of what was about to happen for three individuals. When Fleur looked around at the table, she saw a few grim faces looking her way. Did they wish her to be chosen? To see her humiliate herself as she spectacularly lost to every other school? But that assumed she was even magically powerful and competent enough to be chosen by an ancient impartial magical selector. Reassured that she couldn't possibly be chosen, as Océane had her beat magically by a great margin, she returned her attention to the Hogwarts Headmaster.

"The tasks are split up over the entirety of the school year, and in between that, what will there be for the rest of us to do? Support your chosen champions? Of course!" He clapped his hands once, causing a few small streaks of light to burst out from him, surprising some of the younger or visiting students, and he continued, "But aside from that, there will be a unique mix of lessons provided by the esteemed alumni and professors of all three schools, to be held here, in the Beauxbatons carriage, and the Durmstrang ship. After all, this tournament is held in the spirit of camaraderie and building stronger ties with one another, and learning from one another.

"Aside from which," he continued, "Quidditch tournaments will continue, if somewhat modified to accommodate more teams, along with other activities unique to each of our schools. I trust this will give you all some exciting food for thought. Now, I think it is time for bed. Goodnight to you all."

As the student body rose, most continued to maintain a wide berth around Fleur, Gabrielle and apparently Luna, who did not seem the least perturbed by anything as far as the petite Veela could tell. She met up with the sedate Astoria Greengrass and the older, far more exuberant, expressive and energetic Daphne, who had a little owl that of all things, wore an obviously enchanted sombrero and poncho, since it never seemed to fall off no matter how the hyperactive little bird moved or flew, and the poncho didn't appear to hinder its flight.

A fairy attached herself to Daphne and her owl too. Fleur led them towards the Beauxbatons carriage, and after all the students had dispersed to their rooms, she showed the girls a bit of the carriage's charmed and expanded interior, then her and Gabrielle's room. They could not stay very long, unfortunately, and were soon departing to quickly go back to their dorms. It seemed they were not the only ones from Hogwarts who were already visiting either the Durmstrang ship or Beauxbatons carriage, as nearly a dozen students were streaming out and back to the castle. There was likely an equal number of them coming from the Durmstrang ship.

As enthusiastic and optimistic as Daphne seemed about everything, Fleur couldn't help but feel like things were just getting worse as she drifted tiredly to a very uneasy sleep, with dreams of her getting chosen, and put through increasingly deadly tasks that were made specifically for the express purpose of ending her life.

~ O ~

The next day saw Fleur awakening to the sound of her sister humming a tune that seemed to be a combination of several songs mixed into one while she bathed herself. As she readied herself for the day, she remembered that today she would meet with Professor Dumbledore with her parents. Something that had been arranged already by her parents a few weeks prior. When she exited the carriage, the sun was barely peeking over the horizon. Gabrielle was going to be staying alone in the room until Fleur and her parents returned to pick her up for breakfast.

While they were finally going to meet with the legendary Headmaster of Hogwarts' magicals, the fact that the meeting was expected to be short and concise gave Fleur and her parents the feeling of dread that this was just going to be a personally-delivered unhappy message. She knew what she'd made her father and mother promise on her account, but she knew in her heart they would not give up, and to be fair, neither would she. She had to know. Someone had to have the answers.

She saw her parents approaching the carriage, having arrived at the designated apparition spot beyond the school wards.

"Papa, maman," said Fleur, receiving a kiss on the cheek from either parent, "this castle ees very huge. Shall we go?"

"Your Engleesh has improved," said Apolline with a smile.

"Oui, just a leetle," replied Fleur with a bashful smile of her own.

Sebastien beamed and pulled her into a sideways hug. They entered the castle and were immediately greeted by some of the fairies Fleur had seen last night, along with colourful motes of light that danced around them. Following the little magical creatures, they were led through stairways and corridors that would have had them lost in a few minutes without guides. How in the world did the students of Hogwarts never get lost?

They reached a gargoyle that stood guard right in the narrow stairs that led up to what Fleur guessed was the Headmaster's office. The fairies all flitted away, chased by the motes of light, their high pitched giggling fading away with the distance.

"Sebastien Delacour," said her father, "my wife, Apolline, and my daughter, Fleur, are here with an appointment to see Monsieur Dumbledore."

The gargoyle's head suddenly moved, very much like a living creature instead of a stone construct, and it nodded, hopping to one side, and allowing the family to pass through.

"Go right on up the stairs, the Headmaster has been informed and awaits you," said the gargoyle.

Fleur squeaked in surprise and the gargoyle moved its eyes and head in a manner that indicated an eye-roll. "Same ol' story, everyone's surprised when I talk. I'm a magical guardian leading up to the Headmaster's office, in a magical school where suits of armour and portraits can all talk, and doorknobs giggle, and doors sigh as they open or close, and they all jump at a talking gargoyle statue."

"S-sorry!" Fleur stammered out, before she hurried after her parents up the spiral stairs.

Sebastien chuckled as he hugged his daughter once again, then knocked on the door.

"Enter!" came a cheerful reply within.

As they opened the door and entered, Fleur's lips parted as she beheld a decidedly eccentric looking office, more so than her Headmistress'. It was a large and beautiful circular room, full of funny little noises. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindlelegged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke, followed by arcs of light. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. There was also an enormous, claw-footed desk, and, sitting on a shelf behind it, a shabby, tattered wizard's hat - the fabled Sorting Hat of one of Hogwarts' founders.

Behind the claw-footed desk, clad in neon lemon yellow robes, that had lime green moons, stars and comets that moved over the fabric, and a blindingly bright electric blue wide-brimmed conical hat, was the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. Fleur's eyes moistened at the eye-watering sight and she had to blink and look away. She was surprised to see her mother had also turned her eyes, and mother and daughter were now sheepishly looking at each other. Sebastien managed to maintain his gaze though his posture said he wished he could look elsewhere too.

"Bonjour, Monsieur Dumbledore," said Sebastien, "Eet ees a pleasure to finally meet with you in person."

"The pleasure is all mine, Monsieur Delacour, but please, call me Albus," said the Headmaster with a pleasant smile, and his hand wrapped near the top of a bundle of sweets, "lemon drops? Oh please, please, have a seat."

The family took the offered seats, with Fleur sat in the middle.

"Thank you, Albus," said Sebastien, declining the proffered sugary treats which to Fleur's eyes, seemed to be bundled together by something invisible. "You may call me Sebastien, and if we may, perhaps we can get to ze matter at hand…?"

Fleur snapped her head around to look at her father, both because of how he had suddenly sacrificed courtesy and patience and also because anything that allowed her to look away from the Headmaster was quite welcome at the moment.

"Yes, yes, I quite understand your sense of urgency," said Dumbledore. He leaned his hands on the desk, steepling his fingers together. "You have all been searching for a long time for answers. I have been able to reach an old friend."

Unconsciously, all three Delacours were leaning forwards now, all eyes trying to maintain their gaze solely on the Hogwarts Headmaster's face. Was it the famed alchemist? Although Nicholas Flamel was of French nationality, due to his fame and reputation, contact with him was all but impossible. The only way had been through someone equally as famous though not quite as inaccessible, namely, the man of advanced age before them, but possessed of an extraordinarily horrific fashion sense.

"He has it on good authority," said Dumbledore, "that all of the unique and somewhat opposite abilities demonstrated by your daughter has been recorded or mentioned at least once every century, or thereabouts."

"Please, sir," Fleur begged, "tell me, w-what am I?"

She felt both her parents resting their hands on each of her shoulders. Their quest for answers was finally at an end.

Suddenly, Dumbledore's expression became somewhat sombre, as he placed his palms on the table, and everyone turned at the sound of a trilling song from the phoenix behind the Headmaster, who, up until then, had remained silent and kept its head down. But now it sang a song that was calming and assuring to everyone.

"Thank you, Fawkes, my old friend," said Dumbledore, who then turned back to look at the Delacours, "before I answer you, I want you to understand, I had spoken at length with my friend, and a certain woman in Alexandria nearly as old as I am, and whatever you are about to hear from me, do not assume the worst or jump to conclusions until I can give you sufficient explanations."

He gave the family time to think, especially Fleur. She let his words sink into her. It sounded like he had bad news, but tinged with hope? She found to her fright that both her parents were now looking at her, as was Dumbledore, and it seemed they awaited her decision. Silently, resolutely, she nodded her head. She had to know.

Leaning back after receiving the young Veela's approval, Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands together as if in prayer, and he looked out at them over his half-moon spectacles. "Your daughter is a remarkable being known as a Dark Veela."

~ O ~

Fleur found sleep utterly eluded her that night.

She had gotten answers all right, but it had the unintended side effect of bringing about more questions as well. Far more questions. All of which even Dumbledore, Nicolas Flamel and purportedly some woman in Alexandria only had theories to.

The first thing the Headmaster was determined to disabuse of her mind, was that despite the connotation of the word "Dark" in it, she was not inherently destined to be evil. That line had evoked much laughter from all three Delacours. Fleur, out of incredulity, and her parents, probably for more or less the same reasons, but also because they'd seen Fleur grow up for sixteen years, and she was far too mousy and timid to be possibly evil or destined to become the next Dark Lady after Morganna.

She needed to walk and clear her head. When she threw her blankets off, only to realize in mild annoyance, that tonight, of all nights, Gabrielle had chosen to embrace her little chick side, and was presently lying on top of her, legs tightly wrapped around her middle, and arms around her neck.

"Gabrielle," whispered Fleur, "Gabrielle, wake up."

Nothing.

Of course not. Gabrielle slept like the dead, and possessed a uniquely vice-like grip all at once. Lifting her arms over her head, she tried to gently pry her sister's arms off of her, but couldn't quite manage it. Finally, she gently and lightly poked the girl in the sides, knowing how ticklish she was, and the little Veela made soft noises, an occasional sleepy giggle, and finally, the girl loosened her grip enough for Fleur to slip her off of herself. Quickly replacing herself with a large pillow, Gabrielle had gripped that in exchange.

Leaving her room, Fleur had on her nightclothes and some warm long robes and fur-lined boots. She quietly exited the carriage and wandered along the grassy plains that led to the great lake around and by the castle. The moon was extremely large in the sky and cast enough illumination for her eyes, which had some avian heritage, and thus gave her excellent vision. There were some boulders and a large tree near the shoreline where she'd traversed, and she sat atop the boulder, playing over the morning's conversation with Dumbledore.

The last recorded Dark Veela was about a century ago. Much like Fleur, she had been a meek, frightened child who was hated and feared because of her legendary tears and the Repulsion. She had not lived past her twelfth birthday, because the magical village finally lost their senses and killed her under the belief she was going to bring about their destruction. The opposite had turned out to be true, it seemed. They were decimated to the last person, and because of her premature death, a great war broke out that drew in Muggles and wizards alike.

A war that lasted far longer than it would have if they had not killed their Dark Veela. For according to Dumbledore and his friends, they believed Dark Veela were born in times of great need. To counter a tremendous evil with their own immense powers. The Headmaster of Hogwarts believed that Fleur was destined to save the world, somehow, even if she herself could not see how that would be accomplished. He truly believed that Dark Veela were never inclined towards evil. And the dark title was more in regards to the colour of their downy feathers that they sprouted when they shifted into their avian forms.

As if to confirm the Headmaster's words, Fawkes had flown over, landing on Fleur's shoulder, and was nuzzling her face lovingly. Dumbledore pointed out that phoenixes were drawn to beings of light, and thus assured the family that Fleur was not a cursed child, but a blessing.

They just had to see how the Repulsion factored into that aspect.

Her sharp eyes caught sight of movement coming from the direction of the castle, and she saw a female snowy owl, silent as a ghost, gliding over towards her. The bird lighted on a branch right by her side and looked at her with piercing amber eyes.

"Bonjour," said Fleur, "you're a beautiful bird."

The owl gave a soft hoot and when Fleur reached up to stroke her plumage, the owl preened under the attention.

"I had received rather strange news about myself," she said, "ze 'eadmaster of ze school said I am a Dark Veela, and zat I am destined…to save ze world."

She laughed softly to herself, "I cannot save myself from anytheeng, how can I save ze world?!"

"Ooo-whoo!" said the owl.

"Oh, is zat 'ow?" Fleur retorted, and she laughed again.

She continued to stroke the owl, suspecting the bird was a familiar, or even an animagus, as there seemed to be far more intelligence than normal in this creature.

She also felt like she was being watched, but when she glanced around herself, she saw nothing, and no one. Her sharp avian eyesight perceived no human or Veela or other sentient being, and the owl was no longer looking at her, while she silently administered some pampering on her.

"I am so alone, owl...nobody outside of familee can stand to be near me for long…even with my control over ze Repulsion…sometimes…even ze animals flee."

Fleur frowned, "But not you?"

"Oo-whoo!" replied the owl.

She nipped Fleur's fingers lightly, as if ordering the girl to continue stroking her. Smiling, Fleur obliged, conversing with the owl, sharing what she heard and learned about Dark Veela, and while the sensation of being watched never subsided, she didn't sense any impending danger, and the owl was a bit of a calming effect for her, so she spent most of the night there, never quite remembering how or when she'd returned to her carriage, but she did feel slightly better after all that.

AN: Bean Curds, leftover bouillabaisse, Daphne's fairy friend, or reviews, pretty please?