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Harry Potter And The Game of Death

Level 1

Chapter Twenty-One: On Metamorphs and Veela

"Alright, kiddo, time to rise! Let's get a start on our morning exercise!"

Harry raised his head from the pillow in confusion. Even with his poor eyesight, he could tell it was still dark outside. Much too dark for any sane person to be awake, let alone as chipper as Sirius' voice sounded.

After grumbling a bit, Harry flopped his head back against the pillow and closed his eyes to catch a few more hours of rest.

"Hm. Looks like the simple way isn't going to work; you must've been up late again working on your spells. Ah well, that works for me. Just remember, you were the one who told me to do this if you didn't wake up on time. Aguamenti!"

A thick jet of ice-cold water splashed on Harry's face.

The shock of it woke him up in a heartbeat.

"I'm awake! I'm awake!" Harry shouted as he felt the water continue to pour over him. "Stop casting the blasted spell!"

A barely stifled snicker reached Harry's ears. But though Sirius sounded far from apologetic, the stream of ice-cold water did end. This allowed Harry to finally grab his glasses and get out of his now soaking wet bed.

Harry shot a bleary-eyed glare at where he figured Sirius was standing. "I am so going to tell Andromeda about this the next time she visits."

"Heh. Go on and tell her during your afternoon history lesson with her. She'll probably find it funny, considering how she and I went through far worse when we were your age." As Sirius spoke, the icy wet feeling covering Harry's skin vanished, probably due to silently cast drying and warming Charms. "Anyway, play time's over for now, kiddo. Let's get down to business."

Harry felt more than saw the magical lights turn on around them. A slight tingle went through his body as the feeling of active magic began to pervade the air.

Dressed in a white t-shirt and matching running shorts, an energetic looking Sirius beckoned Harry onward. "Remus is already outside. Change into your workout clothes and meet us by the front door for the usual morning jog."

Harry gave a mumbled affirmative and fumbled his way to the chest of drawers set across from his bed. There he rummaged around and grabbed the first pair of shorts and t-shirt that came to hand. The thing was filled near to bursting thanks to a recent trip made to Diagon Alley and Westfield, which made finding clothes easy even in Harry's near comatose state.

When he was certain he had not done something stupid like putting his pants on top of his shorts, Harry made his way down the Cottage's stairs.

The chill air of Scotland's highland, so familiar to Harry from his years at Hogwarts, washed over his skin when he stepped outside. After a brief spot of silent stretching under Remus' watchful eye, the three of them took off down the old dirt pathway at a brisk jog.

Harry let his mind wander while his body ran on autopilot.

Today made it two weeks since Harry had arrived at the Cottage. And ever since he had arrived, his life had been totally different.

It had been obvious from the get-go. Starting with that first day, Remus and Sirius had made a giant effort to include Harry in nearly everything they did at the Cottage. Whether it was figuring out how to modify their home, shopping for groceries, or just relaxing and reading after a meal, the three of them were almost always with one another.

It might have seemed weird to some, but for Harry it was fast becoming his new normal.

Learning that day that Sirius had setup an honest to goodness duel between Harry and Draco had just been the cherry on top of an already amazing cake. One that the Game of Death had seen fit to join with a notification containing a new quest.

Quest Alert Notification

Beat the Brat

Your Godfather and Lucius Malfoy Have Set a Duel Between You and Draco Malfoy

Defeat Draco to Pass the Quest

Quest Reward:

1 Level

Please Select

Yes or No

Needless to say but punching the 'yes' option had given Harry quite a bit of satisfaction.

Other than that, the two men had been a constant source of entertainment. Seeing them bicker with one another like children over the slightest things often made Harry laugh so hard that tears often came to his eyes. Because seriously, who cared whether one scone had more blueberries than another if they were both the same size? But they did, and one morning had engaged in an epic game of magical rock, paper, scissors to see who got to eat it.

Every day brought something new. Like the day Harry had entered the kitchen to find the two men duelling over who got the final piece of toast; or that time where Sirius had dyed Remus' hair lime green in revenge over some comment or other; or when Remus had hog tied a transformed Sirius and shoved him into a conjured kennel for daring to mess with the filing system Remus used for his class notes.

Between the two of them Harry never knew what to expect, and it felt amazing!

Sirius, especially, was a ball of constant energy. Outside of training, the two of them often hiked the surrounding hills. One day when they were walking past the pond at the Cottage, the man had told Harry that his father had once possessed a dreadful fear of the water. One that had persisted until Lily had taken him down to the Hogwarts Lake and taught him how to swim during the final month of their seventh year. But unbeknownst to either of them, Sirius had persuaded the Kraken to grab and fling them both into the air the moment it looked like James had started getting the hang of things.

Neither one of Harry's parents had been amused by it and had chased Sirius for a full hour after they had managed to escape the creature's tentacles. The dark-haired man had laughed so hard at the memory tears had come from his eyes.

Another titbit Sirius told Harry was that his mother had been famous for playing the peacemaker during her years at Hogwarts. It was just one of the reasons why it had taken his mother and father so long to get together, as she had constantly been scolding the Marauders for their various pranks. And while their many fights with Severus Snape had long ago cemented a mutual antagonism between the greasy-haired git and all the Marauders except for Remus, more often than not it had been Lily's wand which had ended their joint disputes.

Harry loved hearing about his parents like this; until now, everyone else had spoken of them as if they had been perfect, hallowed beings. It was the first time in his life that anyone had really spoken of what they had been like as people.

Even Hagrid, bless his kind soul, had never shared these sorts of stories with Harry. And while there were one or two stories mixed in which painted his father and even his mother in a less than ideal light, Harry was okay with that. Because learning about their flaws made him feel even closer to them.

But everything came with a price. And aside from one truly enlightening sex talk that still made him cringe to remember, for Harry, that price was learning how to wake up early in the morning to start his new daily routine.

It was a simple one which always started with an early morning run. After breakfast and a short digestive recess, next up was an hour of study generally spent on finishing Harry's summer homework and reading ahead in his chosen courses. After which was an hour spent outside with Sirius hiking, or playing special games with Remus like a magical version of hide and seek; which, it turned out, Sirius was an expert at.

This was followed by another two hours spent working on practical skills such as duelling and battle tactics. Only then did lunch come, followed by an hour of free time which Harry usually spent trying out new moves on his Firebolt or reading some of the fascinating books Remus and Sirius had placed in his room.

Which, while perfectly normal, turned out to have interesting effects when paired with the Game of Death. For whenever Harry finished reading a book regarding a new school of magic, or one which detailed how to use a school of magic in new or more advanced ways, the Game of Death would send him a notification.

The first time Harry had noticed this was when he had been reading a book on the 'Mental Arts.' A giant ding had immediately rung out after he finished the first chapter, one which had caused Harry to jump and bump his knees against his reading desk.

Ding!

Congratulations!

You Have Finished Reading an Introductory Guide to the Mental Arts

You Now Have Access to Two Brand New Abilities

Occlumency and Legilimency

Use Spells or Techniques Belonging to these Schools to Gain Greater Proficiency

Harry had stared at the message for a good long while in dumbfounded amazement. According to the book he had just finished reading, gaining any sort of proficiency in either Occlumency or Legilimency was incredibly difficult. But if the Game's notification was correct, then Harry could actually use them right after reading them!

The thought of being able to master any spell just by reading about it had made Harry jump from his seat. He had immediately run to find the closest person to test his abilities out and came across both Remus and Sirius in the Cottage's tearoom.

When they were finally able to communicate, as Harry kept stumbling over his words in his excitement, Remus and Sirius had both given Harry dubious glances. But after a few minutes of pleading Sirius had volunteered to serve as both tester and test subject for Harry's new skills.

Which turned out to be a good thing. Because while Harry could use both Occlumency and Legilimency, he could not do so to a high degree. It had taken Sirius all of half a second to pierce through Harry's flimsy mental defences. And when Harry had tried to use Legilimency on Sirius, the man claimed to have felt a soft poking akin to a gentle breeze against his own defences.

The entire episode had served both to temper Harry's ego a little and to illustrate the general guidelines of how the Game aided him in learning magic.

In a nutshell, the Game of Death helped Harry in two ways. It told Harry when he was on the right track by giving him notifications of success; and secondly, it used a 'mastery meter' to keep track of things like how proficient Harry was in both individuals spells and in general schools of magic like Transfiguration or Potions. Though it was useless in remembering things like historical dates or the names of important people.

Which in turn brought Harry's mind to his afternoon schedule, which went into more thought heavy subjects rather than practical ones.

The two men, with some assistance from Andromeda, covered the important subjects that every pureblood or mixed-blood person in Magical Britain seemed to take for granted. Topics like how the Ministry of Magic actually functioned; the purpose of a quasi-legislative and judicial governing body called the Wizengamot; and the basic state of things in the rest of Magical Europe and the world.

For instance, Harry had learned that, despite people like the Malfoy's running amok, Magical Britain was actually not the most prejudiced nation in Europe. That notable distinction apparently fell to Magical Austro-Hungary, which had never split apart following the Muggle nation's collapse after World War I.

Though that had been interesting to learn, the act of trying to reconcile the many geographical differences between the magical and muggle nations – like how Italy and some of the surrounding areas were still referred to as the Roman Republic, or how China was split into four distinct regions governed by hereditary dynasties – had quickly given Harry a pounding headache.

Thankfully, the two men had quickly figured out this sort of study was not Harry's strong suit, and the rest of the afternoon was generally a mix of different activities. While to end things, Harry and whomever was there that day would always have supper together. After which was another hour or so of free time before it was lights out.

Still, Harry had found that he could not completely follow the schedule Sirius and Remus had laid out for him. He had always been a bit of a night owl and living in a magical home where he had free reign was too great a temptation for him to resist. There had been many nights where Harry would walk along the grounds for hours with only Hedwig for company, testing the new spells he had learned and exploring the place he now called home.

In fact, he had been doing that the night before. Which brought him back to the present as Harry shot Sirius a grumpy look as he remembered this morning's wakeup tactics.

When he saw Sirius give him a mischievous grin in reply, Harry felt the back of his neck tingle in warning.

"Think quick, kiddo!" Sirius suddenly yelled before diving to the side.

"Huh?" Harry queried in confusion as his feet ground to a halt. "What d-"

That was all Harry could get out before a pink blur smashed into the centre of his chest and launched him backwards. He rolled with the momentum, Quidditch instincts overriding his conscious mind in a bid to reduce the spell's impact as he tumbled along the ground.

By the time Harry felt himself come to a stop along the dirt path, most of his body felt battered and bruised. He groggily picked himself up and aimed a glare at the person who had just tagged him.

An amethyst haired Dora gave a cheerful wave as she sauntered over. "Wotcher, Harry! And hiya Sirius, Remus. Mind if I join you for a spot o' fun today? Moody gave me the day off for once and I thought I'd come hang out."

Beads of sweat trickled down the Remus' neck as the man conjured a towel to wipe it away. "Not at all, Miss Dora. Having you around would be a breath of fresh air. Will your mother be joining? She missed her usual tea session yesterday."

Dora shrugged. "No clue. Before I left the house, she said that she wanted to come along, but that there was some big meeting of the Daily Prophet's Board of Directors she had to attend around noontime."

"In that case I shall prepare some extra refreshments and place them under a freshening Charm should she arrive early."

"Thanks Remus, you're the best!" Dora said as she flashed the werewolf a brilliant smile. "I'm glad that little Harrykins here has a dependable man like you around to serve as a good role model."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sirius whined as he flicked droplets of sweat at her. "I'm the one in this house who's both Harry's godfather and an all-around handsome, debonair wizard. Not Remus."

"Ha! You might be the kid's godfather, cousin, but I don't see the debonair bit at all. Besides, don't be such a worrywart," Dora laughed as she easily dodged the droplets. "It's only been a little over a month since we first met. And given that I haven't tried to break your fingers yet or toss you off the roof, I think we're getting along swimmingly."

Sirius' eyes narrowed. "In that case, I think it might be time to kick things up a notch when it comes to letting you know who's top dog around here. Since we're family and all."

"You're welcome to try any day, mutt. But more importantly, shouldn't someone clue Harry in as to what I did to him? I think he looks rather fetching myself, but I'd like to hear your input."

Harry gave a start at Dora's words. Feeling a sudden sense of alarm, he swiftly patted himself down. He didn't find anything out of place, but oddly enough that only served to increase his feeling of mounting dread.

"Hm, you're right, Dora. That's quite the look on him." Sirius' tone contained barely hidden mirth as he looked Harry over. "Definitely more pretty than handsome. The eyes are particularly well done. They remind me of Lily's back when we all went clubbing on the Muggle scene. Let me do something about that hair though; it's a bit of a mess from all that rolling around in the dirt."

Sirius took out his wand and shot another pink spell at Harry. Unlike Dora's, this one did not launch him across the ground, though a warm feeling surrounded his head before quickly dissipating.

Remus gave the two troublemakers an exasperated look. Conjuring a gleaming mirror as Dora began to laugh so hard that tears streamed down her face, the professor handed it to Harry. "I'm off to make breakfast. Don't do anything in my absence that would make me regret serving any of you."

As the most serious person of the bunch left, Harry peered into the mirror and felt his eyes widen.

For staring back at him was the face of a girl. A very cute girl. One whose adorable little nose, red lips, and inquisitive green eyes were surrounded by artfully messy locks of Harry's signature black hair. Little dabs of blush were present on her cheeks, and some kind of violet coloured make-up had been put under her eyes that made the emerald orbs stand out like the most expensive of precious stones.

With slow and careful movements, Harry gently placed the mirror onto the ground. He then began to walk towards the chortling duo of Dora and Sirius at a slow and steady pace while flexing his hands. "I do hope the both of you enjoyed this little prank of yours. Because the payment for it will be coming out of your hides. Right now!"

With his wand still being stowed in his room, Harry flung himself bodily at them. The two devils in human form turned tail and ran, their laughter ringing across the Scottish hills as Harry chased them to enact his revenge.

Several hours later saw the group of four relaxing around the dining table. Sirius was sporting a rather large shiner over one of his eyes, courtesy of running face first into a tree. That event had allowed Harry to successfully tackle Dora when she was doubled over from laughter at Sirius' expense, and as a result a petulant Dora had joined Remus in refusing to heal Sirius' blackened eye.

Harry, meanwhile, had taken a very hot shower to clear off the magically applied make-up and was once again looking like his usual male self.

As for Dora and Remus, the two of them looked much the same as well. Dora's amethyst hair might have added a few inches to it since last Harry had seen her, but that was nothing to speak of. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil had been known to sport three or more radically different hairstyles on any given day, so Dora adding one or two inches to her hair seemed rather tame by comparison.

Still, he was far from being pleased with either his godfather or the Auror-in-training. So when he got a plate of food and sat down, Harry made sure to put as much distance between himself and the terrible duo as was physically possible.

Dora leaned over and gently rubbed one of Harry's shoulders as he tried to eat. "Aw, don't take it so hard, Harry. I was just kidding around this morning, y'know?"

Harry rolled his eyes in response and shovelled more of Remus' delicious food into his mouth to avoid replying.

"Seriously, Harry, it really was just a joke. But if I took it too far, too fast, then I'm sorry about it. I even think I know how I can make it up to you." Dora's mischievous dark eyes danced as she looked at him. "Just sit back and enjoy the show, 'kay?"

What show? But before Harry could verbalize his question, the reason became clear when Dora began to change.

First were her eyes. Orbs as blue as the summer sky stared back at Harry from a face that looked about six years younger. Long blonde hair fell across her shoulders, while breasts the size of melons grew so fast that they visibly pushed Dora's shirt taught against her chest.

Harry nearly choked on his piece of toast. "Wha-how-magic?"

The girl in front of him – who looked nothing like the Dora he knew – gave a tinkling laugh Harry never would have associated with her in a million years. "Of course it's magic! We're wizards and witches, Harry, not Muggle scientists. But if you thought that was impressive, then check this out."

Dora began to change once again. Her cheeks became pudgy, her nose drew inwards, while her hair became thin and short. At the same time, what looked to be stubble grew from her chin while her frame thickened considerably.

Gone was the teenage Norse beauty from moments ago. Replacing her was what looked to be a chubby, middle-aged man with beady black eyes and an overall unwholesome appearance.

This time Harry felt his jaw drop in utter amazement.

"Holy smokes! That's totally wicked!" His hands twitched and Harry only just caught himself from reaching over to touch Dora's face to see if it was real. "Are you really changing your body? Like an Animagus does with advanced Transfiguration? Or is it some sort of high-level illusion like I hear the upper years learn in Charms?"

Dora took her time in answering. She began to change her face and body yet again, this time into a near perfect copy of her mother.

"Nah, it's not any of that," Dora finally replied. Her voice was a close approximation of her mother's but was not quite right. "Although I guess Transfiguration would be the closest school of magic if you had to pick one. Y'see, I'm what people call a Metamorphmagus, someone who can use magic to transform their body without the use of a wand or potions. You have to be born with it, and it's a really rare ability."

"Although it does seem to run in the Black bloodline," Sirius chimed in as he spread strawberry jam over a hot blueberry scone. "Dora's the third person from the family I've seen with the gift in my lifetime."

"Yeah, but I'm the onlyone currently active in all of Britain at this point. So what I said was perfectly correct, thank you very much."

Sirius chuckled at her and rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, cousin. You are both wonderfully special and unique. We all love and adore you for it."

"Damn straight you do!"

Still curious to learn more about Dora's mind-boggling ability, Harry raised his voice before the conversation got completely derailed. "But how do you do it, Dora? And what happens to your body when you change?"

A pensive look came across her face as the young woman considered Harry's words. "Hm. To tell you the truth, I'm really not quite sure how to answer either of those questions; I don't know for sure, and I haven't read or heard about anyone else knowing either. But regarding how I change, I guess it's mostly a matter of concentration with a small helping of magic energy. Though there are limitations."

"Like what?" Harry asked curiously. "Because you seemed to change into three different people just now, including a man."

"Ah. Well, that's what it may have looked like on the surface, but that's not what actually happened." Dora gestured to her body as she spoke. "When I transformed myself to look like a man all I really did was change my flesh and muscles a little, coupled with some changes to my hair to complete the effect. And while I may have made my breasts smaller in that form to give the illusion of being a man, I can assure you I was still all woman down below."

Harry blinked in confusion. All woman down below? What did that mean?

Either not seeing Harry's befuddlement at her words or choosing to ignore it, Dora continued to speak. "But in any case, the bottom line is the ability is fairly limited. I can't do things like change my bones or my inner organs, make myself taller, grow a new arm, or give myself super strength. Doing big changes like assuming a completely different face or body type can also be really draining on my magic. While smaller changes, like the colour of my hair, are much easier to maintain, to the point I can keep it changed even after I fall asleep."

"Ahhh..." Harry said as a bit of comprehension entered his brain. "I think I get it. And now that you mention it, I can see some of the differences between your mum and your transformed self."

From what Harry could tell Dora had certainly gotten the face right. It was an absolute dead ringer for her mother, from the colour of her eyes to the shape of her lips. But upon closer inspection the rest of the transformation was rather spotty, with much of the differences coming down to their different body types.

Like Harry had first noticed at the party, Andromeda Tonks was the epitome of a classic beauty. Tall for a woman, with slim shoulders and a willowy waist, Andromeda had the delicate bone structure of an aristocrat and the mannerisms to match. To the point where if Harry were to pick the idealized picture of a beautiful noble-born woman, then she would be it.

Nymphadora, meanwhile, possessed an entirely different kind of beauty. As tall as her mother and with similar facial features, Dora possessed far broader shoulders. Her overall appearance was also closer to that of a trained athlete's than that of a delicate flower, which gave Dora a more robust look than that of her mother. Rather than a classically ideal lady, Dora was like a tennis star who possessed both power and beauty in spades.

"Okay. You've had your moment of glory, Dora. Next, I think you should tell him about the downsides which come as part and parcel of your cute little ability," Sirius said in a chipper tone as he bit into his scone.

"I don't know what you're talking about, cousin," Dora muttered in a close proximity of Andromeda's voice. The young woman shifted her eyes away to look at the table. "There are no downsides to being a Metamorphmagus."

"Suuuuure there aren't. But hey, if you really don't want to tell Harry, I understand. I'll respect your wishes and wait until after you leave to give him the dirty secrets."

Dora's eyes – still those of her mother – snapped up from the table to glare at Sirius' smiling face. "Are you threatening me? Seriously? 'Cause that would be a giant mistake on your part."

Sirius wiped some crumbs from his face as he ignored her words and continued speaking. "I mean, I get it. You're too scared to do it yourself. And that's okay. So I'll just be the nice older adult and help my adorable younger cousin out with this difficult issue. That's what family's for, right?"

"Oh no you don't!" Dora said with a huff. Having reverted to her normal features, the glare she shot Sirius was all her own. "I wouldn't trust you to get it right. You'd probably insert something that wasn't true just to mess with me down the line."

"Quite possibly. Which means it's in your own best interests to tell the kid now. Eh, Dora?"

The young woman gave Sirius a baleful eye as she continued to glare at his smiling face. A short facial tic seemed to develop in her right cheek when the dark-haired man flashed a victory sign at her.

After several seconds of this standoff, Dora acceded with a disgruntled nod.

"Well, Harry, there are… well, there are generally two known downsides to being a Metamorphmagus. The first being that, whenever we change our body shape and hold the changed form for a long period of time, the muscles and skin that we change become incredibly sore once we revert to our natural form. If we hold the changed form for too long, the pain can supposedly get so intense that it can cause a Metamorphmagus to become unable to use their abilities for at least several days afterwards." Dora squirmed a little in her seat. "I, uh, haven't done that myself yet, though, so I can't speak from personal experience on it."

"Uh huh. And the second one?" Sirius said in a sing-song tone of voice. His expression lit up with glee as he continued to needle Dora. "You know, the silly one?"

"I was getting to it, you insufferable dolt!" Dora snapped.

"Suuuuure you were. Now quite stalling and get on with it!"

After a few more seconds of glaring at Sirius' far too cheerful expression, Dora turned away to stare at the table. The next few words she said were mumbled so softly that Harry could not hear them.

"I'm sorry, but could you repeat that?" Harry asked gently. Whatever this second issue was, it seemed to be a sensitive topic for her. Harry's curiosity had been piqued and he really did want to know, but he did not want her to feel as though he were being pushy about it like Sirius.

"-z."

"Sorry, but I still could not hear you."

"-utz."

"Erm, I really am sorry, Dora, but could you please try it again? I really can't hear when you speak so softly."

"I SAID THAT IT MAKES ME A KLUTZ!" The young woman's hair turned flaming red as she threw her hands up in irritation. "It's something I don't like to talk about because it's really annoying. My mum gets on my case over it all the time, and people always make fun of me over it. At Hogwarts, at the Ministry, even at pubs when I go out with my friends. So if one of you – any of you – ever makes a wisecrack over it, then so help me… I'll… I'll…"

Dora's words trailed off in obvious frustration as she glared at everyone seated around the table. She pointed a shaking finger at the three males, eyes glaring at each of them in turn as she dared them to ignore her words.

Remus calmly took a sip of his tea and shook his head. "You needn't worry about something like that coming from Harry or myself. We both understand how it feels to be pushed out by others for reasons beyond your control and possess the maturity to resist stooping to such levels ourselves."

Harry nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah! If anything, I think it makes you even cooler. Like you're a comic book hero whose superpower is to change form and whose weakness is that you stub your toes every now and then. I'd take that trade any day of the week!"

Dora looked between the two of them, her expression that of wary acceptance. "Do you mean it? You really won't make fun of me over it?"

Both Harry and Remus nodded in unison. Dora gave them both a hard look, seeming as though she were trying to ascertain the veracity of their words.

Harry kept up his encouraging smile under the stare, knowing what it was like when someone opened themselves up only to receive ridicule in return; the Dursleys and others had done it to him often enough. It was a horrible feeling, one which Harry never wanted to make someone else experience.

After several seconds of silent staring, Dora leaned back in her chair with a huff. The woman's entire body relaxed, and when it did she gave them a smile that nearly took Harry's breath away. It was so beautiful and pure, so unlike her usual jaded smile, that it made Harry's heart skip a beat.

But before he could comment on it, Harry felt a tingling sensation on the back of his neck for the second time that morning.

"Oho. So, making fun of you over being a klutz is off limits, is it?" Sirius said with an aristocratic drawl. The dark-haired man slowly drew his wand from his pocket as he drew himself up within his chair.

Dora's eyes narrowed at the action and Harry suddenly felt like he should begin stepping away from the table.

"You can stake every last quid you own on it, cousin," she growled out as she began reaching for her own wand. "Or in your case, every last Galleon. But do you really want to try your luck by making that particular gamble? Hm?"

Sirius threw his head back and laughed. "Ha! I am the great and powerful Sirius Black! Debonair wizard and brilliant duellist. I fear nothing in this world, not even the wrath of an angry woman."

Remus muttered something under his breath at that, including a word which sounded rather suspiciously like 'bollocks', but Harry could not quite catch what the other man said as it was quickly drowned out by Sirius' bombastic voice.

"So, with that being said, oh lovely cousin of mine, of course I'll try my luck at it! But I'll save that for a later day. Because why go for that bit of low-hanging fruit right now when I can just call you by your full name. Eh, Nymph-a-dora?"

Silence fell upon the table as Sirius' final words hung in the air. A tension thick enough to cut with a knife sprang into existence.

One that was broken when both Sirius and Dora blurred into action at a speed which left Harry gaping.

Two blazing jets of light shot across the table. Sirius pushed his chair backwards as he fell to avoid Dora's attack, while his own retaliatory strike caused Dora to fling herself to the side. The two adults exchanged another series of blasts as they fell, which each blocked and sent ricocheting around the kitchen.

The two scrabbled to their feet and soon multi-coloured jets of light arced back and forth throughout the kitchen, breaking cups and dishes and causing the air to be filled with a growing cloud of dust.

Amid their chaotic duel, Remus calmly drew his own wand and waved it at Harry. A soft golden glow sprang into being around him which Harry assumed was meant to ward off hostile spells.

The brown-haired professor then shook his head at the two squabbling relatives. "Take it outside and keep it under ten minutes you two. Harry's training starts in fifteen, and I need at least one of you to be in decent enough shape to test out what he's learned thus far."

"Don't worry about it, Remus. I've got this bird in the bag. It'll be settled in five!"

"Cocky words from a decrepit dog who's long past his prime. Let's find out if your bite matches your whiny little bark!"

With the terms of the fight settled and agreed upon, the two duellists broke away from the kitchen in a mad dash towards the outside. The sound of combat spells being exchanged filled the air while a stoic Remus and a rather bemused Harry remained in their seats.

Harry looked around the kitchen and shook his head. Sirius and Dora's little fight had shattered at least a dozen cups, broken two cabinets, and ripped apart what looked to be the entire spice rack. The place was a mess and, from the sounds of fighting which continued to echo forth, the part of the house which ran from the kitchen to the front door was probably just as much of a mess.

"I'll handle the dusting and the trash," Harry offered.

Remus gave a long-suffering sigh and rubbed his temples. "Thank you, Harry, for being so responsible for your age. Sirius, it would seem, is destined to never reach your level, and I am beginning to have my doubts regarding miss Dora as well."

Harry laughed at that. Mostly because there was probably more than a bit of truth to the other man's words.

Then he and Remus stood up from their chairs and got to work slowly returning the house to order.

Somewhere deep in the heart of France, Hermione Granger was in the process of gaining a migraine.

It was not an unknown feeling. She was used to dealing with headaches, whether it was from pushing her body past the point of exhaustion while studying, or because Ronald had said some inane thing that caused her brain to hurt.

But today was different. For on this day both her parents, two normally serious and sensible people, had apparently lost their minds.

"Look around, honey! Isn't this place amazing?" Emma Granger called out from off in the distance. The woman had run ahead of her daughter and was barely in sight. "Hogwarts was incredible and all when we went to visit it the summer before your first year, but wow! This place just puts it to shame!"

"Yes, mum, I get it." Hermione replied tiredly. "Beauxbatons is gorgeous to look at. I know."

"Gorgeous doesn't even begin to describe this place!" Daniel Granger yelled from somewhere behind her. "It's like something out of a princess fairy tale."

"Yes, dad. I heard you the first time you said it," Hermione responded rather grumpily. "But don't you even think of trying to get me to stay. I love Hogwarts. I love the teachers at Hogwarts. And I love my friends who are there too."

Daniel chuckled at his daughter's words. "I wouldn't dare to even consider such a thing, sweetheart. We can tell how much you care about the place from the stories you tell of it."

"Good. Now can you please come back, both of you, and start acting like responsible adults?"

"Nope! I'm having too much fun to stop now. Besides, your mum told me all about that nice boy you like, and I want to enjoy a little more time with my baby girl before she gets stolen away from me."

"She – you – I – MUM!" Hermione yelled as she flushed red from embarrassment. "We are so going to have a talk about privacy and boundaries when we get back to the hotel."

"Later, honey. Later. And preferably when I'm not having so much fun."

"Yeah! Just look around yourself, honey," Daniel called out, ignoring the fact that his wife had committed a serious mother and daughter taboo, and that said daughter was currently feeling mortified. "They have Pegasi here! As in giant bovines with wings! Don't they look amazing?"

"They're winged equines, dear, not bovines," Emma Granger chided. "Please get your magical animals correct."

"Ah, you're absolutely correct m'love. I hope I didn't embarrass Hermione too much with my mistake."

Hermione Granger, proud member of Gryffindor and a girl who was often hailed as the brightest witch of her age, barely managed to bite back the exasperated groan building up within her chest as she listened to the two prattle on. Today was the day that she and her parents were touring the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and it was turning into everything that Hermione had feared… and more.

She loved her parents dearly, but dear gosh did the two of them know how to cause a scene. She had already had to drag them away from a cave of dancing crystals, which would explode when touched, earlier. While the less said about her father's reaction to the forest of playful Nymphs, the better. Though the same could be said of her mother's reaction too.

Because seriously, who in their right mind would keep a forest full of mythological creatures, all of whom possessed the forms of naked women, on the same campus as a school for underage kids? Just because it was an all-girls school did not mean it was okay! Not in Hermione's book, at least.

While Hermione felt her migraine grow as her parents continued to run wild, the little wisp of a girl beside her gave an amused giggle. "Zey are quite ze silly ones, non?"

"You don't know the half of it," Hermione muttered darkly. "Though you wouldn't suspect a thing if you saw them at their day jobs."

The little girl giggled again. "But zat eez okay, I zeenk. Eet eez très magnifique!"

Hermione gave the girl a questioning look. "Really?"

She nodded her head. "Yes. I zink so. Very much."

Hermione felt her brain go for a loop at that. In her experience, most wizards and witches were not nearly so accommodating when it came to Muggles. Yet ever since they had met more than an hour ago, the little girl had shown nothing but patience and good grace in her dealings with Hermione's exuberant parents.

Gabrielle Delacour was certainly an odd one.

Yet Hermione felt indebted to the girl for her continued tolerance, so she refrained from saying anything critical and tried to focus on the positive. Which was that she had apparently met an interesting foreign witch that was around her age, thereby opening the door to learning more about a magical society other than that of wizarding Britain.

To that end, she held out her hand. "Although we have already been introduced to one another, I would like to do so again. My name is Hermione Granger, and I will be a fourth-year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Gabrielle placed her dainty hand in Hermione's and shook it gently. "Ma nom eez Gabrielle Delacour, and I am a zecond year zudent at ze Beauxbatons Academy of Magique. Ze pleazure eez mutual, 'Ermione."

The two witches shook hands and smiled. Then watched as Hermione's parents, having reached the boundaries of the Pegasi enclosure, proceeded to coo and click their tongues at the winged equines like a pair of crazy tourists who had been too long on Safari.

Having already been told by Gabrielle that the enclosure was Charmed to prevent all non-allowed personnel from entering, Hermione had no worries that they would get hurt by the beautiful animals. Instead, she focused her attention on the young girl beside her and did what she did best in situations like this.

Which was asking questions as fast as she physically could.

"So, um, Gabrielle, would you mind telling me about yourself? You see, back where I'm from, most witches and wizards don't seem to like Muggleborn like myself – they can actually be quite intolerant at times, especially those who come from the so-called 'pureblood' families – but you seem to be very accepting of me and my parents. Is it something inherently different about society in Magical France? Or is it something else, like how your parents raised you? Oh! Or are you also a Muggleborn like me? Because that would explain a lot."

Gabrielle gave a shrug of her tiny shoulders. "Eet eez nozing speciale. Zeese Academy, while very wonderful, 'az people in it 'oo can be quite mean. And while I am not born of ze non-magicalz – what you Engleesh call ze mugglez – ma grande soeur, Fleur, and I are much like you. She and I are deefferent from most ozzer weezardz and weetchez. And while ze lawz of ze French Miniztry of Magique do protect us, ma soeur and I steel face much discrimination."

Gabrielle's words caused Hermione's brain to start working furiously.

From what she could tell, the little girl seemed to be as normal as any other witch Hermione had ever met. Gabrielle had above average looks – well above average if Hermione were to be honest – but nothing else which would seem to differentiate her from the average witch or wizard Hermione had encountered thus far. Which, if viewed from the perspective of an average Muggle, was probably quite an odd thing to think. But as someone with a foot in both worlds, Hermione felt that she was uniquely qualified to make such an observation.

"But – but why?" Hermione blurted out upon failing to think of an answer. "What's so different about you and your sister? While I have yet to meet her, you, from what I can tell, seem to be a nice and wonderful person."

Gabrielle gave Hermione a sad smile. "I zank you for saying zat, 'Ermione. And we are. But sometimez, people, zey do not zink wiz zere brains, non?"

Hermione grimaced to herself for Gabrielle's words struck true. Whether it was Ron and his boneheaded stubbornness or Draco's vile vitriol, Hermione was well acquainted with people who did and said things without thinking. And how, more often than not, she was the one on the receiving end.

"Yes, I guess you are right about that," Hermione murmured in reply. "But still, why would they target you and your sister? There must be some sort of reason for it. In England, I'm targeted either because I am too smart, or because my parents are Muggles, or because my closest friend happens to be rather famous. Is it something like that for you too?"

Gabrielle cocked her head to once side as if in thought. "Eet eez not quite ze same, but eez somewhat close. Ze reazon zat ma grande soeur and I are not liked by ze ozzers eez because of our 'eritage. Our mère et grand-mère are what most weezards and weetchez call Veela. And zough neizer ma soeur nor I are full Veela, ze fact zat we 'ave Veela blood eez enough to cause many people to 'ate us."

Gabrielle's answer caused something to jiggle loose in Hermione's head.

"Veela, Veela… where have I heard that term before," Hermione said aloud as she wracked her brain for answers. "I'm certain I've read about that somewhere."

After a moment's thought it came to her. She had run across it in the reading Dumbledore had assigned to her regarding Harry's powers. One of the writers, a man, had been describing the abilities and trials of people like Harry, several of whom had briefly encountered what were described as a race of sapient avian, all female creatures referred to as Veela.

According to the book, Veela were theorized to be human-creature hybrids. They were thought to contain the blood of both humans and sirens as they could transform between the physical forms of both at will and were always female. They also had strange abilities that the author refused to go into detail about, only warning that all men should exercise extreme caution when dealing with a Veela and that one of the lesser heroes of the age, Xeno the Unfortunate, had met his end shortly after bedding one.

Given the age of the book and the writer's clear bias against both non-humans – an entire chapter had been devoted to the feats of one hero who had 'bravely and cleverly' enslaved an entire clan of Goblins – and women in general, Hermione was not willing to accept all of its assertions as the total truth.

When she repeated what little she knew of Veela to Gabrielle, the little girl gave a soft chortle of laughter. "I 'ave 'eard far worse, 'Ermione. Such az Veela being ze un'oly offspring of 'umans and Succubae, or ze children of Eve and ze Devil after she bit from ze fruit of knowledge."

"Really? Why would someone say those things? That doesn't seem to make any sense." Hermione frowned at Gabrielle's words. The book Hermione had read had made no mention of either possibility. And though it made sense regarding the second one since Christianity had not yet risen by the time the book had been written, succubae and creatures like them had been quite well known by the time the Greek author had written his tome.

"'Oo knowz for sure? I certainly do not. But eef I were to guess, eet probably comes from jealousy over ze giftz zat many 'oo are Veela, or 'oo 'ave Veela blood, pozess."

Gabrielle gestured towards her body. "For eenstance, most of zose 'oo 'ave Veela blood are très beautiful. Boyz weesh to be wiz us, and girlz are often scared oof uz stealing zere men away. And zough I do not 'ave any of the ozzer abilities which may come from 'aving Veela blood, ma grande souer, Fleur, 'az nearly all of them. One of wheech eez known as ze Allure, wheech can make any nearby boy or man who eez deestracted or weak of weel become eenztantly attracted to a Veela, to ze point zat ze boy may beegeen to drool or act out on zeir more primal thoughtz."

Hermione's eyes flashed as she considered Gabrielle's words. Now that she had more information, the girl's earlier words made sense. Hermione could see why Gabrielle and her sister were so disliked.

After all, how would Hermione feel if there was a girl like that around Harry? One who was as beautiful as Gabrielle, as smart as Hermione herself, and who could possibly take control of his attention whenever she wished? It shamed Hermione to think it, but a part of herself was happy that there was no one like that at Hogwarts.

Because while she was okay with sharing Harry with one, or maybe two, other girls, that was only because Hermione was confident in Harry's feelings toward her. If something else was added to the mix, like magic which could alter his state of mind, then Hermione would no longer be quite as confident in keeping Harry's affections.

Because magic which could control or affect a person's mind or thoughts was scary.

Her fellow students at Hogwarts might laugh about love potions, but to someone who had been born in the Muggle world the notion that someone could forcibly change how you felt about them was frightening. One only had to look at Ginny's second year to see the extreme example; back then, the shade of Voldemort had forced the youngest Weasley, against her will, to slaughter Hagrid's chickens and let loose a murderous Basilisk upon a school full of children.

Something in Hermione's silence must have given her thoughts away because Gabrielle's bright eyes began to dim.

Hermione caught sight of it and instantly knew that she was at a crossroads with the girl. Thoughts began to blaze through Hermione's mind as she considered which path she would take.

Would she reject Gabrielle or someone like her just because they were born differently? Because they had different abilities than those around them? Or would Hermione, someone who was discriminated against just for being who she was, accept Gabrielle and all that she represented?

It was in all honestly too big of an issue for Hermione to decide upon all at once. But the action she needed to take in the here and now was obvious, and she made her decision regarding it in an instant.

Hermione leaned over so she could wrap Gabrielle's tiny form in one of her patented hugs. A hug which caught the younger girl completely off-guard, and which was only tentatively returned.

"I'm sorry I went quiet like that, Gabrielle," Hermione murmured quietly. "I really, truly am. I can only imagine what you thought I might have been thinking. And what's worse is that you would probably be right."

Hermione drew back to look into Gabrielle's eyes. "While I can't say that having someone around who could potentially steal away the boy I love would not worry me – because it really, really would – I think that you are an amazing person, and that I would be the world's biggest hypocrite if I decided to hate or dislike you just because you have a different heritage than me. I know that we've only known each other a short while, but I like you. And I think we could be friends. Maybe even good friends, someday. So, if you are willing, please accept my apology for being a bit of a tiny-brained ninny; I promise to never do it again."

Hermione drew in a deep breath after letting loose her long rant. It was never easy to admit when you made a mistake. But if doing so helped another person shine, then she would gladly admit to any number of shortcomings.

After a minute of holding a hesitant expression, the younger girl gave Hermione a bright smile. "Eet eez okay, 'Ermione. I weel not 'old it against you. I would very much like to be friendz wiz you az well."

"Good!" Hermione gave a happy burst of laughter as she gave Gabrielle another hug, one which the other girl returned far more tightly than the one before. "Now, with that little bit of nonsense on my part out of the way, I think that it would be a fair trade if I were to begin telling you about myself. Is there somewhere you would like for me to begin?"

Gabrielle gave a quick nod of her head. "Yes. When you were making ze apology to me, you said zere waz a boy zat you like. Could you tell me 'oo 'e eez and what 'e eez like?"

Hermione flushed scarlet and silently cursed her big mouth. All she had to do was make a simple apology and there she had gone and mentioned things which had no bearing on the situation at all. Stupid, stupid, stupid Hermione!

But since Gabrielle had requested she talk about it, and she had offered the girl the equivalent of a blank cheque, then Hermione felt obligated to honour the younger girl's request.

After a moment's silence to collect herself, Hermione marshalled her thoughts and dove into the subject.

"Well, you see, he's a really special boy to me," Hermione began. "He's someone I've known since the day we first went to Hogwarts, and since then he's become my best friend in the entire world. He's smart, and handsome, and really, really brave, even if he doesn't think so himself. And although we haven't said anything to each other, I know that he likes me, too, and I hope to tell him how I feel before we start school again."

"Awww. 'E soundz très magnifique!" Gabrielle said as she clapped her hands in excitement. "I weesh zat I 'ad a boy like zat 'ere too. What eez 'iz nom?"

Hermione twiddled her thumbs together. "Well, he's somewhat famous back in Britain, so you might have heard of him before. Does the name Harry Potter ring any bells with you?"

Gabrielle's squeal of excitement at hearing Harry's name should have served as Hermione's warning to switch subjects. Because as Hermione soon learned, Gabrielle Delacour was very familiar with Harry's name and happened to be very interested in learning more about him.

As he watched the little girl who had been acting as their guide fling her short arms around his daughter's shoulders and proceed to jump up and down in excitement, Daniel Granger smiled happily to himself. His daughter had always had a difficult time in making new friends, so seeing it happen this quickly was a rare and wonderful sight.

Daniel nudged his wife as she stood beside him. "Do you think we should interrupt?"

Emma shook her head. "Nope. The two of them seem to be enjoying themselves just fine without us. Besides, if she and Hermione are as distracted as they seem to be, then maybe you and I can sneak off on our own for a bit. I saw a few other places on the school's brochure which could be rather… fun… to visit."

Daniel's eyes sparkled at the thought, and he nodded his head without hesitation. "Lead on, my dearest dear. Lead on!"

Hours later, when they were driving back to their hotel and their red-faced daughter was giving them a stern lecture over what was and was not proper behaviour at a place of learning, both parents were sporting grins wide enough to swallow the Tower of London.

A/N: Sooooo, is it wrong that I adore turning Hermione's parents into the very opposite of what people generally imagine their dentists to be? Because I really did enjoy turning them into a pair of wild and crazy fools who are madly in love with each other XD.

As for those readers who do not like reading accented English in a story… I do understand it is something which some people do not enjoy reading. But it is a storytelling tool which I have personally enjoyed in literature, be it in canon Harry Potter or many other wonderful series, as I feel it can add another dimension of realism and authenticity to a story. It is also an area in which I seek to grow my skills as a writer, and thus will occur whenever Fleur or someone else with a strong accent (like Krum or Hagrid) is brought into a scene.

Until Next Time,

Elsil