The Ties that Bind the Soul (unedited)

by TheL0sts0uls

Feeling empty in the aftermath of the War and seeing the hypocrisy of the survivors of the OotP, Harry vanishes from the world. Years later, as old and new dangers surface, many still search for him, including Gabrielle Delacour, who tries to find her own path in the world, all the while a figure tries to live a peaceful life in the French countryside. Trans Harry Potter.

1. Chapter 1-10

Summary:

The long and drawn out battle against Voldemort and the Death Eaters left Harry Potter feeling empty, and the aftermath of it did little to change that. Seeing the hypocrisy of the survivors of the Order of the Phoenix, and how little the thoughts and words of the former Boy-Who-Lived mattered to either the general population or to his former allies, the young man distanced himself from Wizarding Britain, eventually disappearing all together. After several years, the situation in Magical Britain only continued to deteriorate, while all attempts to locate the Last Potter proved fruitless for both friend and enemy alike. Across the channel, a young woman completing her education in Beauxbatons continues her efforts to find the man that had once saved her life. Undaunted by the naysayers, Gabrielle Delacour tries to balance out finding her future career and the missing man, though she isn't the only person searching for the Hero of the Second Blood War. All the while a shadow moves about the French Countryside, trying to live out a life in peace and anonymity that was denied to them throughout much of their life, though it might be denied to them once more, if certain people have their way, for good or ill.

Chapter 1: Bittersweet Victory

A loud roar filled the ears of Harry Potter as the people inside the Great Hall cheered what they had all just witnessed. Lord Voldemort, dead at last, his body slowly decaying as the magic that held the alchemically created flesh faded away with what remained of Tom Riddle's tattered soul. As people reached out to Harry, pulling and shoving him around whilst the rest dealt with the now leaderless and morally exhausted Death Eaters, few noticed how quiet Harry was. Seven years of his life. From the moment he had set foot into Diagon Alley, the specter of Lord Voldemort had darkened his every step. Every spell he learned, all the pain he endured, all the loved ones who were taken from him. They all lead back to Voldemort. For the last year of his life, Harry had dedicated his every breath to discovering Tom's secrets, locating his phylacteries and destroying the Horcruxes that kept the Dark Wizard bound to this world. In so doing, however, he discovered the secret that Dumbledore had hidden from the Wizarding World. What no one but he and Harry had known, though Harry had never truly understood until Snape revealed it to him with his last act. For Voldemort to die for all time, Harry had to die as well. That for the last seven years of his life, everything that Harry had endured, praying that at the end there would be some grand reward, some measure of peace… there had only ever been death waiting for him. Numbed and exhausted beyond measure, Harry had allowed Dumbledore's plan to come to fruition. Surrounded by the specters of the dead, Harry had walked to his own death in the Dark Forest. And that should have been the end.

But now, as he held the Elder Wand in his hands, Harry found himself feeling… hollow. The man he had looked up to as a mentor and almost like a grandfather, had always suspected that for Voldemort to be destroyed, that Harry would have to die. From the moment he had held him after Sirius had pulled him out of the rubble of the Potter Cottage at Godric's Hollow, Albus Dumbledore, one of the greatest wizards of the last century, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and Harry's mentor… had been leading Harry, as Severus Snape had put it, like a lamb to the slaughter. On the other side of the coin, of course, had been Tom Riddle. Driven mad by his Dark Artefacts and the loneliness that he endured through all of his life, the self anointed Dark Lord had sought to destroy Harry every step of the way to secure his own survival. From the third floor corridor to the Graveyard at Little Hangleton. From the Department of Mysteries all the way back to Hogwarts for their final battle, not a single moment between Tom and Harry had been anything but a violent and desperate battle for survival on both their parts. Now, he was dead too. Bested by his own hubris and madness, Lord Voldemort, the specter that haunted Britain for decades, was no more. Harry knew that he should be like everyone else around him, celebrating the death of a monster. But for some reason, he just couldn't.

For one man, he had been the culmination of years of planning, for the other, the final obstacle that stood between him and his ultimate triumph. Without them in his life, pulling and tugging at the strings that held Harry together, what was left of the so-called Boy Who Lived? For so long he had been defined by his conflict with Voldemort. His every triumph had been against the bastard. With him gone now, what was left for Harry in this world? After Shacklebolt and McGonagall took control of the scene, Harry found himself moving past where the bodies of the dead were being laid out, Order or Death Eater alike. He stared for a second at the bodies of Nymphadora and Remus Lupin, closing his eyes as he thought back to Lupin attempting to name Harry as Teddy Lupin's godfather. Harry hadn't been a fool. He knew the dangers that the boy would face, the possibility that he would not only lose his parents, but his godfather as well, in the coming battles. Haunted by the hole left in his heart when Sirius slipped into the Veil and vanished from this world, Harry had known that he couldn't make the same mistake as Sirius and his parents had done. He just couldn't. He refused to be the boy's godfather. Sighing, Harry vowed to at least make Teddy's life a bit easier, but right now he didn't know what he wanted to do. If anything, nothing seemed to interest him. It was as if the moment that the Killing Curse struck him down, all his worldly desires had faded away. Walking slowly, almost dragging his feet, Harry made it past the great doors leading out of the Great Hall and watched the chaos that was still unfurling in the courtyard, though thankfully there were no more curses flying around, as Death Eaters were stripped of their wands and had their hands bound.

"Harry?" The young man with dark hair turned towards the source of the sound, finding himself looking into the face of Ginerva Weasley. The redhead was covered in sweat and ash, tears still tracing paths down her cheeks. "Harry, are you all right?" Harry blinked at her, finding it odd that the need to kiss her that had been prevalent for the last two years had vanished almost completely, only finding the absence of the need as the only proof that there should have been something there. But there wasn't. Shaking his head to clear his mind, Harry did his best to give her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I… think so. I just… have been through so much in the last few hours." Ginny smiled, and Harry found that it was wrong. "Shacklebolt is going to be making a press conference in the next hour, hoping to get the word out that Voldemort is dead and that the war is over. He said he wanted you there, to ask you a few things before they reported what was happening to the country. Think you are up for it?" He knew he was terrible at hiding his feelings. He knew it. So then, why? Why was Ginny unable to tell how tired and hollow he felt. Shaking his head again, Harry looked towards the courtyard, watching as Shacklebolt did his best to get everything back into some semblance of order. He sighed before speaking, but even to his ears, the words sounded devoid of any feeling. "Fine, let's just get this over with so I can get some rest." For the second time in his life, Harry stood before a throng of reporters, flashing cameras blinding him over and over again as others spoke for him. And for a second time in his life, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, stared out, looking over a sea of people, the world feeling dead to him once more. Why was he still alive? Why?

After unceremoniously dumping a pile of rotting and charred planks of wood, Harry took a moment to catch his breath as he looked towards the cottage where his parents had been killed. After the Battle of Hogwarts, he had spent almost a week at the Castle, helping to rebuild, while also keeping an eye on what was happening in Britain at large. He had hoped that his lack of emotional connection with the people around him would eventually pass, and to his surprise, it had, but not in the way he had hoped. Anger and frustration were the first emotions he felt stirring his heart once more and both were aimed at the Order and the provisional Ministry they were managing. Sure, the reconstruction of Hogwarts was paramount. That was why he had been there, helping to repair the damage, the Elder Wand getting its first true trial in his hands. The wand did surprisingly well, feeling comfortable in his hands and eager to be used. He had considered using the wand to repair his old Holly Wand, but instead felt that he could do better than that. Using the power of the Elder Wand, he was able to alter the appearance of his broken Holy Wand to match that of the Elder in its intact state, before smashing the fake wand before the eyes of his friends and Dumbledore's portrait, along with all the other Headmasters, before promising to leave the broken pieces of his wand in Dumbledore's tomb. He hadn't exactly been lying either when he called it Dumbledore's wand, since his Holly wand had been made with Fawkes' tail feather inside of it. He also told them that he had dropped the Resurrection Stone in the Dark Forest, where it would likely never be found again. Again, he didn't exactly lie, as he had dropped it and surely no one would find it there, since he had used the Elder Wand to summon the stone back into his possession on a dark and quiet night when he was able to sneak out all on his own.

At first he had felt bad about lying to Hermione and Ron, but their behaviour and words after the battle made it less troubling in Harry's mind. Ron had taken to spending his time either talking to the reporters that constantly returned to the Hogwarts Courtyard to gather as many first hand accounts as to what occured in the battle as they could, or doing the same to the students that had stayed studying in Hogwarts during the Death Eater occupation. Since then, the redheaded Gryffindor spent every single moment basking in the glory and adulation, milking everyone for what approval he could get. Harry, looking back at his time with Ron, realized that he had read the boy wrong. Sure, he had been somewhat loyal, but it now seemed to him that it had been entirely in the pursuit of fame and glory. Even when they had their fight thanks to the influence of the Locket Horcrux, he had left, bemoaning about how they were doing nothing but sneaking around, eating scraps, while everyone else was fighting or dying in battle. At first, Harry wondered how he could have missed it, but he was able to understand now, with the threat of death or failure no longer burdening his mind. He had wanted companionship and Ron had given it to him at a time when he needed it most. Rather than starting up another argument like they had had in the tent months back, one that would have nothing to do with Dark Magic, Harry decided to leave Ron to his idiocy and fame. He just couldn't be bothered to fix a relationship that he could now readily admit had been falling apart since their fourth year.

Looking towards his oldest and dearest friend, he could also see the same cracks forming in their relationship too, but for very different reasons, as Hermione Granger was handing out pieces of parchment to a few of the other students. After the battle, he had overheard her speaking to McGonagall, who was acting as Headmistress while the Ministry and the Board were still pulling themselves back together, about whether she could return to Hogwarts to complete her education after missing out a full year of classes in the hunt for the Horcruxes. Shacklebolt had already promised them that he would get them special permission to forgo the NEWT Exams due to extenuating circumstances, something that Ron had cheered loudly for when he had been told. For his part, Harry had been undecided, but had assumed that Hermione would have taken advantage of the offer to take up a position in the interim government, hopefully to fix the issues that still plagued muggleborns such as herself. He had also believed she would have wanted to search for her parents, in the hope that her memory spell could be reversed. Instead, she was already making plans to spend another full year at Hogwarts to complete her examinations. Unlike with Ron, he had pulled her aside in the Gryffindor Common Room and had asked what she was doing.

She had lowered her brown eyes from his, her hand rubbing her wrist where Bellatrix had carved into her the word "mudblood," the wound healed but the scars still legible. "I… thank you for worrying about me, Harry, but I am sure about this. After my parents and the war… I just need a bit of normalcy back in my life. And I… I don't think I can do that while trying to fix the Ministry or spending weeks or months searching for my family, who won't even recognize me. At least, I can't do that right now. I hope you can understand and will be joining me in September in coming back to Hogwarts. It would be your first, completely normal year. I think it's something we could both use in the coming months. Please, think about it." She had kissed his cheek after he hugged her, before she left up the stairs, looking to return to the room McGonagall had set aside for her. After several hours of quiet thought, Harry had pulled the Invisibility Cloak around himself and had ventured up the stairs of the Girl Dorms, unsure as to why they weren't reacting to him right now. Leaving that aside as a consequence of the damaged wards, he was able to locate Hermione via her point me spell, before kneeling down beside her sleeping form. His eyes had stung then with unshed tears, but he resisted the urge to touch her hair or speak, as he placed a bag filled with galleons on her bedside table, with a short note explaining that it was for her to use when she decided to search for her parents. It would more than cover the expenses of the trip and any medical treatment her parents would need.

After Hogwarts had been rebuilt, Harry had gone to the Ministry, hoping to find anything he could do to help. It soon became clear that they didn't want his help. Despite the seriously understaffed DMLE and the Order leadership handling the Ministry of Magic's daily operations, the Wizengamot had refrained from convening. Harry had asked Interim Minister Shacklebolt if there was anything he could do to rally the members of the Wizengamot back into session, hopefully to reverse the many laws that had been passed during Voldemort's rule by proxy. Shacklebolt had been able to use his office's authority to reverse the decrees his predecessor had established and had promised to undo all the laws passed during the last year's sessions, but that was it. Harry, feeling the need to do something, tried to get the Wizengamot back to work, suggesting the passage of laws to protect muggleborn witches and wizards, their families and to open up the Ministry to them. He had been shocked when Shacklebolt had pulled him aside and asked him to stop making statements to the press about changes to the muggleborn situation, that he and his office would handle it. But rather than using their current position to pass legislation in the Wizengamot to prevent the crimes from the war from ever being repeated, Shacklebolt's Ministry was more interested in hunting down Death Eaters and arresting them, with plans for Trials being set later in the year. In not one of his articles did he say that he wanted to fix the muggleborn situation, except to state that Mr Potter had erred in making such statements on behalf of the Ministry.

That was the moment that Harry knew that he had been wrong, not only about Dumbledore, but also about the Order. Sure, they tolerated muggleborns and encouraged their education, but few if any of them did anything to improve the lives of those considered lesser in magical circles. Dumbledore's own record showed that while he steered away from the customs and traditions of the Magical Families, he also didn't support nor pass major muggleborn legislation during his long tenure as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. While that could have been to the makeup of the Wizengamot as a whole, Dumbledore certainly had enough political and popular support to push such measures through, and yet he did nothing. The Order of the Phoenix, for all of its apparent virtues, was nothing more than a vigilante organization that favored sustaining the status quo. They were the reason Hermione was forced to do something so drastic as erasing her parents' memory of the magical world, as the Order refused to have them kept safe within Britain's borders. After being used as a propaganda puppet for a few days, Harry had had enough. Using the mail redirect wards Hermione had learned to cast in order keep the three of them safe while they hid from the Death Eaters and Snatchers, Harry took what he would need from the ruins of the Black Townhouse, before arriving at Godric's Hollow with what was left of the supplies he and Hermione had kept in the Wizard's Tent, setting it up just inside the front garden of the Potter Cottage, before warding the entire place.

If Harry was honest with himself, he had no desire to live here at all, but the Black Townhouse was filled with enough bad memories and was relatively unsafe after the Order and the Death Eaters had been inside of it, so this property was the only one he could claim as his with relative ease. Keeping the notice-me-not charms in place, while adding the mail redirect wards, Harry had been able to find some relatively calm nights here, with his days spent dismantling the wreckage left by the two times the house had been attacked. He doubted that anything of the house itself could be saved, but with the disappointments from both the Ministry and his friends, Harry felt his only option was trying to make his living away from all of them. He couldn't exactly build a home on someone else's land and spending his life inside a wizard's tent, even if some were nicer than certain houses, was still too unstable for his tastes. Hence why he was tearing down his family's home, plank by plank, brick by brick, hoping to one day build his own home on top of the foundations. For the parts that were too large or heavy, he gladly used his wand, though he wasn't above using elbow grease when he felt the need to get some exercise in. Trying to decide what else he would throw into the expandable bag he was using to dump all of the debris in, he found his attention drawn elsewhere. "Mr Potter. You are a hard wizard to reach." Looking towards the gate of the front yard, he saw a small figure standing on the other side. Harry sighed, having some idea what this was about.

"My apologies, Master Goblin. As you can imagine, having a mail redirection ward seemed prudent, what with all of the possible threats against my life, let alone the letters from certain members of the current British Ministry of Magic." Taking a towel off from a table nearby, he wiped off the sweat from his face, before walking up to the Goblin as he placed his glasses over his face. "What can I do for you?" The goblin, wearing a dark business suit with a red vest, bowed his head. "Mister Potter, my name is Golstrud and I am here on behalf of the director of Gringotts Wizarding Bank." Harry blinked at the Goblin. "Don't you mean Gringotts Bank, Londinium Branch of the Goblin Nation?" The goblin, possibly of middle age, if not older, blinked at Harry in surprise, before a brief smile appeared on his face. "Indeed. It seems you were expecting our summons." Harry nodded, before he approached the gate and pulled it open. "After what happened in London, I wasn't under any delusion that I wouldn't be receiving a visit from a representative of Gringotts. Please, come in. Would you accompany me into the tent? While I am certain all Goblins approve of individuals capable of physical labour, I doubt your elders would be pleased if I entered their offices as I am now." The goblin bowed his head before stepping past the gate and into the wards. "You assume correctly. While I was to inform you that if you refused to accompany me back to the Bank, a Goblin Retrieval Team would be coming in my stead, it would seem my warning isn't necessary."

Pulling the flap aside, Harry allowed the Goblin to inspect the interior of the tent, finding it quite spartan, just as it had been for the year Harry had spent with Hermione and Ron for company. "I have every intention of following you back, Master Golstrud, if you would but allow me to freshen up. You are welcome to inspect the rest of the tent and leave behind warning wards, if you feel so inclined. I assure you I have no desire to flee." The goblin accepted the suggestion and inspected every corner of the tent, leaving faint traces of magic behind, whilst Harry stood still within the center of the tent, before the diminutive creature nodded. "Very well. You may freshen up, Mr Potter." Harry nodded, though he first entered the kitchen, placing a cold jug of water on top of the dining table, followed by a variety of cups, before pulling a bottle of alcohol from the wine wrack. "Here, please, help yourself. I will be out in a few." The goblin took the offered drinks and hummed to himself as he inspected the bottle, whilst the shower turned on in the bathroom. "What a curious wizard." He served himself a small serving of the alcohol and drank it slowly, until he heard the shower turn off. In a few minutes, Harry Potter stepped out, wearing a white button up shirt and a black jacket with black pants. He took a shot of the alcohol, making a brief face as the drink touched the back of his neck, before setting the bottle back into its recess, and rinsing the glasses in the sink. He then turned to the goblin and bowed slightly. "Very well then, please lead on, Master Golstrud." The goblin shook his head though he had what many would say was an uncharacteristic smirk on his face as he stood up, straightening out his jacket. "Right this way, Mister Potter."

As Harry walked past the guards at either side of the front entrance to Gringotts Bank in London, he could see that he was very much the center of attention of every goblin manager and accountant in the lobby, their eyes following him as he followed after Golstrud past the tellers and into the hallways that led deeper into the bank, with Harry barely catching a glimpse at the rotunda where he and his friends had ridden a dragon through in order to escape with Helga Huffleouff's Chalice, the rotunda itself seemingly repaired, though he wondered how much was simply for appearances. As he had told Golstrud, he had been aware of the possibility that he would be summoned and took the initiative to research Goblins, stealing a few books from what was left of the Black Family's library. While a lot of magical tomes had been ransacked by the Death Eaters, it seemed that wizarding prejudice served him this time, as the books dealing with Goblin customs and etiquette survived relatively undamaged. Of course, several weeks worth of reading wasn't enough for Harry to be fully prepared for the meeting with the Director of Gringotts Londinium Branch, but at least he wouldn't make a total fool of himself. As they approached a massive set of doors in a back hallway, the goblin that escorted him bid Harry to wait outside, before he asked the guards to inform the Director of their arrival. After a few minutes in silence, the guard that had entered the chamber stepped out and spoke to Golstrud before retaking his place. His escort approached Harry and bowed slightly. "The Director will see you now. For what it's worth, I wish you the best of luck, Mister Potter."

Nodding, Harry pulled out five galleons from his pocket and handed them to the clearly surprised creature. "My thanks, Master Golstrud. May your coffers run full and your enemies tremble in your presence." The two guards spared a silent look as Golstrud took the coins, before bowing his head, leaving Harry before the doors of the Director's office. One of the guards granted him entry, before closing the door as soon as Harry was within the chamber. Inside the darkly lit room, Harry found his eyes drawn to an elder figure waiting for him behind a heavily ornate desk, with two skulls adorning the edges of the table. It took him a second to recognize the skulls as belonging to Nudu, which meant that the Goblin before him was more than capable of dealing with Harry all on his lonesome. He stood before the seat that had been placed before the desk for him and kneeled down before the goblin, his head bent low. "I am here as summoned, Director Ragnar, viceroy of Gringotts Londinium, Nundu Slayer." The goblin, his face marred with scars, raised an eyebrow. "Interesting. Well spoken, Mister Potter. Please, be at ease and take a seat." As Harry followed the Director's instructions, the goblin steepled his bony fingers over the desk. "You have been summoned before me due to the fact that you and two associates broke into a Gringotts Vault, stole property therein and then destroyed Gringotts property as you escaped on the back of a dragon that belonged to the Bank, leading to the death of one of our account managers. I hope I don't have to say how serious we view your crimes against the Goblin Nation."

Harry shook his head. "Not at all, sir, and I doubt that much of what I have to say could in any way reduce my punishment, for which is why I was summoned before you." The director nodded. "Indeed." He pulled up a piece of paper and read. "In the case of Harry James Potter, Heir Apparent to the Potter and Peverell inheritances, it is the judgment of the representatives of the Goblin Nation that the accused be barred from ever having business with Gringotts in any of its branches, his properties confiscated and sold, after which 75% of the total wealth of the accused is to be collected as payment, the rest returned to the individual to do as they see fit with it." Harry swallowed, realizing that he wasn't as safe in the Potter Cottage as he once believed himself to be. While he would still have a sizable stack of galleons, he would be unable to do business anywhere in any magical community, limited only to black market transactions and personal dealings. He would likely be unable to own property, trade magical for muggle currency or make any income, meaning that he would eventually run out of his funds. Without the necessary documents to live in the muggle world, let alone the funds, he would be left with nothing. "Viceroy Ragnar, while I doubt it will do much to diminish my punishment, may I be allowed to provide my memories as evidence in hopes of at least earning your willingness to negotiate my punishment?" The Goblin lowered the paper back onto the desk. "And what exactly do you expect me to find in your memories, Mr Potter." Harry took a deep breath. "Confirmation that the object stolen from the Lestrange Vault was a Horcrux."

For a few seconds, Harry saw no movement in the Director's face before he started yelling in Goblin Speech, not stopping as a goblin entered the room. Said goblin waved his hands over Harry's head, who felt his mind go a bit foggy, before the feeling passed. The goblin turned to Ragnar. "He has little occlumency to speak of and no dangers that we can detect." The Director left his chair and walked around the desk, before standing before a still seated Harry. "Do you give me permission to search your memories?" Harry lowered his head so that the Director could reach him. "You have my permission, Director Ragnar." The Goblin placed his hand on Harry's head, his pale finger contrasted heavily with Harry's messy black hair, before magic linked them both. Harry saw every memory the director sifted through, which was his every interaction with every goblin, including Griphook, as well as his time spent within Gringotts, before finally ending the connection after seeing Harry desperately casting the killing curse at the Cup, having lost the sword in the breakin to Griphook. Ragnar pulled his hand away from Harry's head, his face livid. "Summon Golstrud!" As Harry rubbed his forehead, the Director re-took his seat behind his desk, before speaking as soon as Golstrud arrived. "I want a full audit of every vault in Gringotts Londinium and I mean every Vault! I just saw evidence that one of our account managers allowed a Horcrux into the Bank and had it stored in one of our oldest Vaults. Leave no stone unturned! I will have heads roll for this!"

The startled Goblin bowed heavily before fleeing the chamber as the Director rubbed his heavily wrinkled forehead. He looked towards Harry, his expression softening. "Very well, Mister Potter, the charges for the death of the account manager and theft are hereby dismissed. That still leaves breaking into Gringotts and destruction of Gringotts property. Let us hear your counter offer." Harry sighed a bit in relief. "Thank you sir, though it's less of a counter offer and more of a question. I have read that Gringotts often had debtors repay what is owed through service to the Goblin Nation. Would I be allowed to maintain the ability to do business with Gringotts and all its branches if I were to submit myself to serve the Goblin Nation as a laborer and how long would my service be for if that was the case." The director rubbed his chin in thought. "After what you have shown me and the respect you have for our customs and people, I would indeed be willing to have your punishment commuted to hard labour for the Goblin Nation. Now, let's see." Harry watched as the Goblin Viceroy read through the paper in front of him once more, probably making the necessary calculation in his head. "Twenty five years of service and 10% of your wealth, without the need to sell your properties beforehand, though they will be evaluated and their price used to come to the adequate figure for the fine."

Twenty five years? Harry felt the wind knocked out of his lungs. He had already lived for eighteen years, though he wouldn't call any of that time living, so the very idea of going through another lifetime of hard labor didn't really appeal to him. Though it was better than being forced to live hand to mouth for the rest of his life. Licking his dry lips, Harry spoke up. "And would there be any way to prove myself worthy to not spend the full 25 years in service?" Director waved his hand dismissively. "Well, there is always the Arena. Taking part in the arena matches and completing the 12 challenges will automatically reduce a subject's labor sentence to zero, though they are still required to work in the interim period between each match. The matches are not technically to the death, but they are quite dangerous. Should you succeed, you would only have to pay the remaining fine and your debt would be settled." Harry thought for a second as he sat back in his chair. Sure, it was a gamble, but if he could manage it, he was certain to gain some much needed good will with the goblins and he would retain his properties, though he would have to enquire about what inheritance he had access to as the Heir of the Peverells. This was the first he ever heard of being their heir. "I would be more than willing to provide my services in the form of hard labour to the Goblin Nation in order to repay the debts I incurred with the nation. My only final request… would I be able to take on the debts of my companions, as it was my decision to break into the Bank in the first place?"

Ragnar raised an eyebrow, before looking back down at the paper, his glasses reflecting the light from the desk's candle. "To cover their debts and spare them from being summoned or shunned by Gringotts, we are willing to accept your service for a maximum of 25 years to the Goblin Nation and the payment of 25% of your monetary value in fines. Will that be all, Mr Potter?" Harry sighed, in a mix of relief and resignation. While he would have happily allowed Ron to get some much needed comeuppance, he had no intention of letting Hermione suffer for what had been his plan. And if Hermione and Ron did somehow end up together, then this was the best way to keep his best friend safe. "Aside from requesting an escort to retrieve my personal items and clothes, that will be all sir." The director nodded, before handing him a piece of parchment and quill that Harry was intimately familiar with. "Please sign here." Harry took the blood quill and signed his name, before he was escorted out of the room by the guards. It was safe to say that the moment he reached the lobby, the entire room's worth of tellers, receptionists and managers were in a frenzy, escorting every witch and wizard out of the bank as they were stating it would be closed for the day until further notice. "It would seem your reputation as a troublemaker is warranted, Mr Potter." Harry chuckled as he bowed at Golstrud. "My apologies, Master Golstrud, but if I was to serve the Goblin Nation, I had to provide you with everything I knew to be true."

The younger looking goblin shook his head, before guiding him to the front entrance of the bank. "I will escort you back to your… home and then escort you back to Gringotts once you have collected your belongings. I suggest you leave nothing important behind. You will be allowed to send letters, but this will be the last time you will walk free before your debt is paid. Use your time well." Harry nodded as he looked up at the cloudy sky, knowing the next few years of his life would be difficult. He only hoped it gave him the means to come to terms with what he wanted for his future and the person he wanted to be. Arriving back at Godric's Hollow, Harry dumped all the rubble out of the expanded bag he had been using, before collecting a few trinkets that had been left within the wreckage of the house. After dismantling the Wizard's tent and turning it into its box configuration, he took one last look around, seeing the wrecked remains of the statue that had depicted him as a child in the arms of his parents. Whilst he would have liked to have met them and lived up to be the son they had wanted him to be, he knew that he needed to make his own way through life. Fixing the mistakes he had made in his short life and atoning for his sins in the labor force of the Goblin Nation would hopefully do that for him, as he had no desire to fix the mistakes others had made. Checking his pockets, Harry was briefly confused as to why the Hallows were in there as he distinctly remembered storing all but the Wand in his old trunk, but he decided to ignore that for now as he turned to Golstrud. "I am ready to go." The goblin bid him to take his hand and as Harry gripped it, both of them vanished from Godric's Hollow as the rain began to fall over the sleepy town.

"Tante Gabrielle!" A small blonde missile launched itself from the foyer as the front door swung open, with the young woman barely avoiding tumbling as the little girl struck her legs. The woman reached down and pulled the girl into a hug. "Re-bonjour, Victoire. How is my nièce doing?" The girl with reddish blonde hair smiled as she told her aunt all about the boat ride home across the channel as an older woman with platinum blonde hair passed through the entrance, two suitcases in toe. From inside the house, an older woman approached, drying her hands with a towel as Fleur closed the door of the Delacour Family Home, cutting off the bitter cold temperatures from outside. Fleur looked at the older woman and sighed. "Bonjour, ma mère." Apolline, her platinum blonde hair touched by flecks of grey, pulled her oldest daughter into a hug, kissing her on the cheeks as they pulled away. "It's good to have you home, Fleur." Looking at the closed door, she returned her attention to her daughter, who shook her head. "He isn't coming this year either and… I don't want him to. Could you talk to your lawyer friends? I think… I think it's time. I can't keep doing this." Apolline rubbed her daughter's cheek lovingly. "I will let them know, but it is the holiday season so they may ask us to wait until after the New Year to get the processes started." Fleur nodded, before she stepped past her mother, going up the stairs. The Delacour home, while not grand by the standards of Noble Magical Families such as those from Britain, was still more than capable of hosting over a dozen invited guests comfortably, as Fleur took her and her daughter' belongings to the third floor, placing them in adjoining rooms.

Stripping out of her warmer jacket and gloves, she took a moment to check her appearance in the mirror, concealing once more the dark circles under her eyes with mascara, before pulling her hair out of her ponytail, retying it back again, getting the locks that had slipped out back in place. As she stepped back down the stairs, she smiled briefly as she watched her sister playing with Victoire. The five year old was growing like a weed and had taken to speaking well, though she prefered spending her time running, especially at the beach, though snow was a close second. As Fleur reached the first floor, her mother Apolline, scooped up her granddaughter in her arms, her strength greater than what her form and age would seem to suggest. "I just happen to have been baking cookies earlier. Would you like some, my dear?" The girl's squeal of delight made the three Veela smile as the grandmother led her by the hand to the kitchen, leaving the two sisters behind. Fleur took a moment to look over Gabrielle and shook her head. While both of them would qualify as pretty to most observers, Gabrielle had a more rounded face with soft looking blue eyes. Her hair was left loose over her back, its golden locks far more conventional than Fleur's almost unnatural platinum. Even still, Gabrielle radiated the typical Allure aura of all Veela, though hers seemed a bit more controlled. It was certainly better control than what Fleur had demonstrated during her last year at Beauxbatons. Deciding to test her sister's English, she spoke to her after giving her a hug. "How is Beauxbatons, Gabby?"

The younger of the two Delacour sisters shrugged her shoulders as the two sat down on the sofa, the softness of it almost making the tired mother of the two sigh in relief. "It's the usual. I spend most of my time in the library, finishing up on my charms and warding term papers, while most of the men and about a third of the women are kept outside by a locked door." Fleur sighed, knowing that experience all too well. While most Veela loved spending time outdoors, the fresh air calling to that avian part of their being, the reality was that without complete control of one's aura, the people in the vicinity would be on top of them in an instant. Finding friends was difficult as many would grow envious of the attention the young women had everywhere they went, while the others would be forced to fight their own instincts at every turn to just have a pleasant conversation with a Veela. Finding people with the right level of control was rare, though not as rare as those who were altogether immune to the effects of the allure. "No one actually catching your interest?" Gabrielle huffed. "With the school filled to the brim with pretentious boys? Of course not. Not one of those boys can even come close to being my type." Fleur leaned back. "You might want to loosen up your tastes." Gabrielle raised an eyebrow, before biting back whatever it was that she was about to say. Fleur, however, could make an educated guess. She sighed. "Then again, perhaps a higher standard would have saved me from my current predicament." Gabrielle rubbed her upper arm. "What happened?"

Fleur sighed, before slumping forward. "Everything? At first it was him asking for more kids and me saying no. Then it was all his trips out of the country, which meant he barely spent a moment back home, looking after Victoire. I had to cut my hours at the Bank just to make sure Victoire wasn't all alone. I especially didn't want to leave her with his family. That mother of his still refuses to apologize to me for every name she ever called me, let alone his "perfect" little sister." Gabrielle rolled her eyes. "If she was so perfect, I doubt Harry Potter would have actually dumped her. Say… have you heard any news about him?" Fleur stared at her sister. "You still have that silly little crush?" Gabrielle bristled. "You yourself said he was immune to our aura. At fourteen! Don't tell me you haven't thought about what could have been if you actually decided to pursue him instead of William Weasley." Fleur rubbed her face. Gabrielle was right. She had thought about what her life might have been like had she pursued Harry, though it had only started after her marriage to Bill Weasley took a turn for the worse. "Perhaps it would have been better had I made that choice. He was always polite and understanding, mature beyond his years. Hard to believe he has been missing for six and a half years." Gabrielle visibly deflated. "So, no news?" Fleur shook her head. "Aside from the sudden acquisition of all of his family's properties by Gringotts a year and a half ago? Nothing. My higher ups won't say anything but it's very likely that Harry Potter died a year ago, Gabby."

The younger blonde shook her head. "I don't believe that. He wouldn't just vanish and die without leaving anything behind for someone to find." Fleur thought for a second. "Aside from Hermione Granger's assurances that she got a letter every year for five years from him, there is no other evidence that he is still alive. Last time I met her, she said that the last letter never arrived. She is beginning to accept that Harry might have died… Eventually, you will have to do the same." Fleur left the sofa after her mother called her from the kitchen, leaving an adamant Gabrielle behind. The young veela returned to her room, before she threw herself on the bed. She knew that Harry Potter was alive. She knew it beyond a doubt. After all, that day back in the Black Lake, something happened to Gabrielle beyond the fact that she had been saved by the young Gryffindor, even though she wasn't his hostage to recover. He had seen the rage the Merfolk had for her small form, as the organizers of the event failed to realize that Veela and Merfolk had centuries worth of hostilities between them, born from a schism that started some time in the ancient past. Ignorant of the risk he was taking, Harry Potter had successfully retrieved Gabrielle from the Black Lake. And, in the process, one of the rarest bits of incidental magic occurred between them. She had only been told about it when she had visited the conclave that same summer after the end of the Triwizard Tournament.

According to one of the Elders of the Veela Conclave, Gabrielle had been magically bound to someone. Bonds born from Veela magic were rare and while they tended to result in romantic attachments, it was not always the case. The chieftain had been very clear that the bond wasn't a guarantee, but a promising start. "Right now, your magics are bound together, but it is a thin bond, easily broken by time, death and emotional upheaval. Should you find the person to whom you are bound to, you should endevour to discover what this promising start could mean. It could be a lifelong friendship that will bring you great confidence and strength, or it could become something far deeper and more beautiful… but only if it is nurtured. Be warned, my dear little fletchling. You should not abandon your path through life to seek this bond, but you should always keep it in mind, for when you are reunited and given the chance, the life that may yet flourish between you could be made all the sweeter." Gabrielle rested her hand over her heart, feeling the connection there, and the emotions that were there, just on the other side, somewhere in the wider world. After she had been told about the bond, a part of her had been daydreaming that it was Harry Potter. She had been nine years old at the time and he had seemed to be like the mythical knights in shining armour, rescuing the poor damsel in distress. Her dream was confirmed the day that her sister married the eldest of Weasleys, as she found herself drawn to the "cousin" of the family, someone she had never met before. Fleur had confirmed that it, in fact, had been Harry.

Of course, had she had been told of every event befalling Harry Potter since the end of the Triwizard Tournament, she would have been able to guess. The all consuming heartbreak that had followed for months after the death of his godfather, Sirius Black. That event and its echoes had left Gabrielle in a similar state. The almost constant anxiety that filled his heart during the final year of the war, which he spent almost entirely on the run from a madman, had also been a difficult time for her, but more so for her unaware parents. The summer that he disappeared and the years after… they hadn't been easy on Gabrielle. Whatever he had been doing had been causing him physical and emotional pain. But unlike his time at Hogwarts, that pain almost always seemed to have been followed by relief and a sense of accomplishment. Then, a year and a half ago, the pain, anxiety and fierce determination gave way to relief. Gabrielle had scoured the newspapers since, hoping beyond hope that the sense of relief meant he was finally coming back. He never did, and those same newspapers revealed why, at least in Gabrielle's eyes. Magical Britain had experienced a brief period of peace after the fall of the Dark Lord, but it was soon replaced by a constant stream of violence, with not all of it coming from the same people that had backed the Death Eaters decades earlier. Neo Death Eater terrorists and their opposing force, The New Blood Order, were waging a war of terror on each other, with the Ministry caught in the middle, desperate to quell the violence, but ultimately failing to address the causes of it. Her father, the Director of France's Magical Security Force, was constantly keeping tabs on the news from Britain, worried the violence might spread across the channel and into French Territory.

For someone like Harry, who deeply cared about the first generation witches and wizards like his friend Hermione, the fact that the Order he had fought alongside of had failed to protect the muggleborns, leading to this violent terrorist group forming in a desperate attempt to fight back, must have been deeply disappointing. After everything he had lost, everything he had sacrificed, all for the world to still end up tearing itself apart? Gabrielle wouldn't have stayed either and she was very glad that Fleur was finally leaving Britain for good. Leaning up, Gabrielle turned her gaze to the nearby window, the winds beyond the panes of glass picking up again in strength as snow blew past, leaving an endless void of whiteness everywhere one looked. Another storm was brewing, but now that Fleur and Victoire were home, they could just stay safely inside until their father arrived. Gabrielle rubbed her chest over her heart once more. "Wherever you are, I hope it's not too cold." As always, she got no response. The connection, because of it being delicate and unnurtured, was only flowing one way, so Harry wouldn't feel anything she was feeling, though that didn't stop Gabrielle from hoping that he somehow could. For the last year and a half, the feelings coming from Harry had been so different from every other time. Gone was the pain, the anguish and the anxiety, all replaced by a quiet contentment and a few bouts of confusion or even embarrassment. The one prevailing feeling, one that had been with him probably since before the bond and almost entirely throughout it, was loneliness. Wherever he was, Harry Potter seemingly remained alone and all Gabrielle could do was hope that that too would pass, with a soft, probably immature prayer of her wishing that she could be the one to bring Harry's loneliness to a definite end.

The bell above a door chimed as a gust of cold wind blasted through the small apothecary in a small nondescript town in the French Countryside. The woman at the counter, who had been suggesting potions to an old man, looked up and smiled as a bundle of black clothes entered the shop, before the young woman took off her furry hat and pulled down the black and red scarf from her pale unblemished face, her cheeks a bit red from the cold. The shop owner would recognize her anywhere, she was sure. "Mademoiselle Peverell! I wasn't expecting you so soon!" After straightening out her long but unruly black hair, the green eyed witch smiled at the shop owner. "I hope it's not too much of an imposition. With the holidays coming up, I thought you and the town would benefit from a fully stocked potions shop, especially as this cold weather seems to only be getting worse." The dark skinned brunette behind the counter chuckled and motioned with her hand towards the far end of the shop. "Not at all, my dear. Please set the vials on the table and I will look them over. I need to fetch the order slip to verify that everything was delivered." The older man looked as the young woman placed a small brown leather bag on the table, before she began to pull out more vials than the size of the bag would seem to be able to hold. He looked back at the store clerk. "Is that your new Potion's Master, Madam Charbonneau?" The middle aged woman smiled at her customer. "Yup. Elysia Peverell. She was introduced to me by Gringotts as a certified Potions Master. All the recent potions over the last year, especially the rare ones like Wolfsbane and Restorative Draught are all hers."

The old man hummed in appreciation as the young girl pulled out a bit of parchment from her own back, reading through it quickly, before digging out a few dozen more potion vials. He chuckled lightly. "She's certainly keeping you in business." Jeanne ran a hand over her cloth covered hair. "Trust me, she has been a godsend. The local pack isn't skimping out on her potion since they swear it's better than the one made by the Paris Potions Institute." The old man sighed, rubbing her chest as he winced. Jeanne looked at him for a second, before opening one of the vials in front of her. "Here, it's not much but it should chase away the pain." She took a spoonful from the glass container and served it to the gentlemen, who was instantly filled with relief. Resealing the jar, Jeanne muttered a soft "wait here", before stepping back into her shop's store room. She approached the dark haired witch at a brisk pace with a list in hand. "Is this everything, Elysia?" The Peverell witch nodded. "Everything from your order earlier in the month, plus a dozen extra Healing and Pain Numbing Potions each." At Jeanne's raised eyebrow, which made Elysia blush. "Gringotts placed a higher order for them and I had leftovers that I could send your way. They are all tested and certified." Jeanne checked the seals, knowing better than to doubt the witch that had suddenly become her largest potions supplier just a year prior, but still having to do her part to verify the supplies. As she went through the stacks, Elysia looked towards the gentleman at the other end of the counter, who had taken a seat in a nearby chair. "Is he alright?"

Jeanne sighed, shaking her head as she marked the delivered vials in her parchment. "Monsieur Chauvin. He's got a heart condition. Non-magical doctors and our Healers can't do anything about it, with the former warning that an operation would likely kill him. He needs some heavy Pain Numbing Potions, as well as a Stabilizing Potion, but his pension from the French Ministry can't cover the full cost for a monthly supply. I try to do what I can but I can't diminish the effectiveness of the potions or they simply won't help him. His family provides what they can, but ingredient scarcity has made the prices rise for a lot of potions this year." Elysia looked towards the old man, her eyes briefly lighting up, before her face turned mournful. Digging into her pant pocket, she counted the appropriate amount of Galleons that she knew the potions went for, before getting a few more. She handed them to a surprised Jeanne. "It's the Yuletide and everyone is entitled to a restful and pleasant season. This should more than cover it for the current month and his pension and the rest should cover for the next. If he holds out longer, let me know. I wouldn't mind covering his expenses a bit. I will also have a chat with Gringotts about testing out a few alternate ingredient recipes. If we can find safe and plentiful potion ingredient alternatives, the prices should drop back to normal again." Jeanne took the coins into her hand before placing them over her heart, as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. "You are an angel, Elysia. Please, wait here. I will give Monsieur Chauvin the good news."

Elysia did her best not to blush too much as the gentleman thanked her, before Jeanne handed him the full set of vials for the month, followed by the instructions. Chauvin left the store, clearly happy that he wouldn't be in so much pain for the Holidays, as Jeanne finished registering her new inventory, before paying Elysia the down payment for the next month's supply of potions. As the raven haired girl finished writing the list of potions she would have to deliver in a month, Jeanne slouched down lazily on the counter next to her. "So, any plans for Yule? Or perhaps Christmas?" Elysia barely paused to think. "Nothing really. Just another quiet evening back home. I had managed to get a roast and my elf is dying to try out a new recipe she read in the last few weeks." Jeanne sat up. "Oh, come on. Sure, the language barrier has been a problem for you but your French is getting better. Besides, aren't there any men worth your interest here." Elysia shuddered. "Hate to disappoint you, Jeanne, but I prefer female company." Jeanne tisked. "Damn. While I have nothing against that, I have never actually had a girl talk about other girls. Regardless, you shouldn't spend the holidays on your own, especially in that old house of yours." Elysia looked up from her parchment. "I have a few pets and an elf back home, so I don't think I am that alone." Jeanne sighed, before her face lit up. "I know, why don't you come and have Christmas Dinner with me and my daughter? I make some fantastic roasted chicken. Besides, I always make too much for just two people and it would be nice having someone else there for a change."

The young Lady Peverell sighed and thought for a moment in silence. "Alright, but I need to be home by eight that night." Jeanne pulled the surprised Elysia into a hug. "That's wonderful. Why don't you drop by the 25th at five? Adeline will be back from visiting her father by six and I could use some help setting the dining room table. I promise, you will have a wonderful time with us. You will see!" After a few more pleasantries, Elysia waved goodbye at Jeanne from outside the store's window, before tightening the scarf over her face as she trudged through the snow covered streets. She thought she had dealt with the cold before, and had in fact enjoyed it a few times up north, but the current weather was one of those rare instances where it was beyond bitter cold. Without warning charms and the right clothes, a person could die within an hour, if not less. The sound of laughter drew her attention to the people on the other side of the road, with Elysia recognizing Monsieur Chauvin besides a young looking couple, a small child holding the hand of the mother as they walked towards the nearest Apparition point. The sight of the old man made Elysia feel melancholic. Had she not intervened, he would probably have died before the year was out. Even with the help from the potions, he wasn't long for this world, though at least he would be more comfortable now before the end. That was one gift she hadn't been fond of discovering she had a few years ago. While she was no Seer, she could easily tell when a soul was on the verge of crossing over due to natural circumstances. Accidents and murders were beyond her, but someone dying from heart failure or bone cancer? That she could see plain as day. Jeanne's comment came back to her mind. "An angel, huh? More like an Angel of Death."

Her melancholy triggered her three stowaways, each one responding differently to her feelings. The Stone promised her that Death wasn't the end and that she could meet anyone who had passed on if that was her wish, whilst the Wand asked to be brought out to give the poor soul a painless and swift end. The Cloak, as always, was more understanding, urging restraint and acceptance of what was to come. Of the three, the Cloak was the easiest one to understand, as its essence was closer to Elysia's than the other two, at least most of the time. She wondered if that was because the Cloak had been with her the longest. Back before she became Elysia Peverell. Back then she didn't have much of a life and that didn't change until a few months ago, though she could happily admit that while trying and painful at times, her times among the Goblins had been truly enlightening. Not only was she one of the few outsiders given the honor to not only observe Goblin customs but to actually participate in them, her time amongst the diminutive creatures had given her a better understanding of the world at large and what constituted a healthy lifestyle. It was an irony not lost on her that Goblins, not Witches nor Wizards, were better prepared to teach her what making a living truly meant, a fact that she would ever be grateful for when it came to her dear friends living full and satisfying lives beneath the cobblestone streets of London. Thanks to them, she was able to even get a measure of control over her emotions, though she was told she would likely always be brash and impulsive at times. She could live with that.

Clearing her mind, Elysia made her way down the street towards the closest Apparition point, before a newspaper attached to the bookstore's window drew her attention as she walked past it, the front page detailing the most recent terrorist attack against one of the estates belonging to a member of the British Wizengamot. The DMLE on site Auror, which reminded Elysia of Susan Bones, stated that it was still unknown which of the two groups was behind the attack, though they promised to investigate and detain those responsible in due time. A byline caught Elysia's eye, an opinion piece on whether Harry Potter, the Hero of the Last War, had deserted his duty as the Saviour of Magical Britain when he vanished from public record and if the British Ministry should rescind his Order of Merlin First Class award. Elysia shook her head in disgust and kept on walking, surprised they hadn't rescinded the award already. It had been over six years, after all. Then again, maybe it wasn't that hard to believe. It would never surprise her how bigoted the British Magical population happened to be, laying the blame of their current situation on anyone but themselves. Harry Potter was the same as ever in their eyes; the scapegoat to all their troubles and the miraculous saviour to the people in their most desperate time of need. To them, he would only ever be a symbol, a prize, an object to be coveted and used to serve their own needs, only to be discarded when they had no further use for him. He could never be just a person to them, no matter what he did. That was why Harry Potter left Great Britain all together. Why he ceased to be Harry Potter. As Elysia Peverell, she could finally have what they had always wanted since they were children; to be able to live as just another person, in peace.

Chapter 2: Settling In

Londinium District, late June 1998

"Please mind your step, Mr Potter. We Goblins don't have much need for brighter lights than what you see here. We will be teaching you a spell that most wandwavers find useful for life amongst our people." Harry stepped gingerly as he dismounted the railcar. Unlike the one he used to descend down to the Lestrange Vault, the ride down to what Golstrud called the Housing District was a bit more uncomfortable. While the other railcars had seats built for normal sized guests, the railcars for this section of Gringotts were specifically designed to only seat Goblins, which left Harry with the need to contort himself across several seats, much to Golstrud's amusement from the driver's seat. Snapping his aching back into place, Harry followed after his guide's dark form in the low light environment, his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. "That… would be appreciated." A few silent moments followed walking down dark corridors interposed with two gates, both guarded with goblins in full armour, their heads turning to follow Harry's movements as he walked past them, who could just barely make out gleaming eyes from within their helmets. After the second gate, the corridor's height, which thankfully was tall enough to accomodate goblins with halberts, became more comfortable, the walls also growing further apart. When the space surrounding him seemed to surge by some degree, it took Harry a moment to realize that he had reached what essentially amounted to a street. Towards the walls were simple doors and windows, all made from shaped stone, a few being a bit more intricate, though these were rare.

Just as they reached this area, a goblin approached Golstrud with a note, as Harry looked at what he could now recognize as small gardens to either side of a walkway leading to most homes, with plants and mushrooms in varying states of growth. "Thank you, my dear. Mr Potter, it would seem our Director has located a goblin willing to give you residence. He will be in charge of instructing you in a few matters of etiquette, as well as what your life will be like for the years that you spend with us. Once you have settled in and acclimated yourself to your new living conditions, you will then be put to work. The mining staff will be evaluating your capabilities tomorrow before they assign you your work schedule and quotas. Now come along. We are still some distance away from your new residence." Bowing respectfully to the goblin that had delivered the note, Harry continued to follow after Golstrud for what felt like an hour, possibly going deeper and deeper into the ground, though this was hard to tell, as there was no indication of distance, the homes all cleary different from each other due to designs and runic markings on the structures. "Golstrud, if you don't mind me asking, why are the living spaces so… cramped? While the Vaults aren't exactly spacious, the massive chasm between the various Vault rows would indicate the capability to make large, open spaces. Why not do it here?" Golstrud waved his hand dismissively.

"As you might have gathered, mister Potter, our homes are a bit more… utilitarian. To answer your question, it is due to several reasons. For one, as you could see, the living spaces are cramped but acceptable. The gates are narrow and shallow, making large troop movement or access to large beasts like dragons unlikely. The corridors themselves are labyrinthine in design in case of attack from the surface. And, lastly, each of the corridors and tunnels that connect and become our peoples homes were themselves old mining sites, long devoid of any value. Every meager space, every ounce of sweat used to carve into stone must lead to the maximum return possible. What was once the work environment of a goblin could one day be the home of their grandchildren. There is no need nor desire to waste our time carving into stone that would provide no great use to us. For that, I suggest you look at dwarves. Now that is a race that is very wasteful with its workforce's energy." Harry took in his surroundings with renewed interest, running his hands over the grooves in the stone that he could now recognize as pick marks. "So the labour that I will be providing will not just be mining, but laying the foundations for future Goblins to live and grow in safety." Golstrud looked towards the young man, seeing the slight smile on his face. "Indeed. It seems that this thought is satisfactory to you." Harry sighed. "After watching everything that is happening at the Ministry, how my every sacrifice and effort to better our world is discarded for their own profit and self interest, it is… comforting, knowing that my work here will have years, centuries, if not millennia of value to it. I can see now why your people defend your home with such zeal. For it is not just the lives of your people at stake, but the contributions of your entire race as well."

The two were quiet for a moment, before Golstrud shook his head. "A curious wizard indeed. Most of your kind that come here find fault with almost everything in our way of life and will do anything to escape, if not shorten their duration in our service. It would seem, Mr Potter, that we will have no such issues with you. Now, please, we have been here long enough and our destination is near." A few more minutes walking and Harry entered the equivalent of a goblin street where a severe looking goblin seemed to be waiting for them. One with a familiar look to his face. Golstrud handed the goblin a note. "Mr Potter is your responsibility now. Your house will be provided with the necessary supplies to feed him, though he has brought a Wizarding Tent with him should it become necessary. Educate him in our ways so that he may eventually perform his responsibilities to their highest value. Mr Potter has also decided to take part in the Arena trials, so it will be your task to assist his preparations to our standards. These are the orders given to you, Dredhook, by Viceroy Ragnar, Wyvern Slayer. Do you accept them?" The goblin growled under his breath as he took the offered paper. "To cleanse our family of my brother's dishonour, I, Dreadhook, accept our Viceroy's orders." Golstrud then turned to Harry and bowed his head. "May your dedication and service set you free from your debts to us in due time, Mr Potter. In the mean time, rest assured that all of the properties under your name will remained sealed and untouched whilst you still live. Farewell."

Watching the figure of Golstrud vanish into the corridor through which they arrived, Harry turned to find Dredhook looking at him with curiosity. "It is rare, Mr Potter, for Goblins to wish anyone to be freed in due time. You have his respect. I will see if it is warranted." The goblin raised up his hand to Harry, who shook it steadily. "I am Dredhook. From now till your release or death, your livelihood is my responsibility." Harry bowed his head. "Thank you, sir. If I may be allowed to ask… are you related to Griphook? If that were the case, then you have my apologies for involving him in the breach of your people's safety." Dredhook hissed under his breath. "That traitor had much to answer for, Mr Potter, the least of which was his bringing you within our bank without alerting security. For his dishonorable conduct in attempting to reclaim the sword forged by the order of Ragnuk the First to erase his crimes against our people, Griphook had earned himself a most painful death in the Arena. Just as you are here to repay your dues to our people, so will I be in taking care of you. Do we understand each other?" Harry nodded, before the goblin urged him to enter into the house, with Harry having to lower his head to enter through the door, the roof of the house well within reach of his hand should he reach up to touch it. For once in his life, he was glad that he wasn't as tall as Ron has become.

Opening a back room, Dredhook asked him to enter through the door frame. "Unless you choose to sleep in your tent, this room will be your new home for however long your stay is. I will show you how to wash our linens and provide you with the ingredients you need for your meals. You will be incharge of cooking them, as we goblin's have… different tastes in food that will not sustain you as you work in the mines, let alone to keep your strength up enough to face the threats of the Arena. The stove and room have been adjusted to match your height. It is imperative that you rest well, Mr Potter. Work here starts at five in the morning, your time, and ends at four in the afternoon, with a one hour lunch break and recess beginning at twelve. From four till nine, your time will be your own to handle your needs, whether it's cleaning, studying or training your body. At nine is curfew, for which you must be in the house for the night. I suggest you put your plans to complete the tasks of the Arena aside for a few months, to allow yourself time to adjust to both the new routine and the difficulties that may arise as a human living underground for long periods of time. Now, it is past lunch so I suggest you settle into your room before the food is delivered for your dinner. I will be about my home if there is anything you should need from me." Harry nodded. "Understood sir and thank you." For the next few minutes, Harry pulled out his necessities from his trunk, storing everything else inside the wizard's tent. He did, however, find something odd.

Initially, he had thought that he had forgotten to store away the Hallows, but when he pulled out the box where he was keeping the Resurrection Stone, he found that it was still sealed up tight. There was no way he would have sealed it magically if the stone wasn't inside of it. Pulling the three items from his pockets, he stared at them all on the desk that he had been provided with, before looking at the stone more closely between his fingers. "There is more to you than just being enchanted items, isn't there?" After he finished speaking, Harry felt some noise in the back of his head. He had a brief panic that it could have been associated with his link to Voldemort, but the scar on his head had healed over and the effect wasn't coming from it, nor was it painful. Placing the stone down, Harry rubbed his face, before looking through his bag for the mokeskin pouch that Hagrid had given him almost a full year ago. Looking at it made Harry smile a little, happy that Hagrid and his brother had survived the Battle of Hogwarts. Both would hopefully be safe within Hogwarts' grounds now that McGonagall was Headmistress. He knew they would both look after Hermione, though Harry knew better than most that she could look after herself. He did, however, realize that any letters from Hermione would have gotten blocked over the last few weeks. Stashing away the stone back into its sealed box, before placing it and the cloak into the pouch that would hang from his neck via a leather strap, he took out a pen and paper and began to write a letter to his best friend. He might not be able to be by her side in the next few years, but he would make sure she knew he was safe, so that she could focus on her own goals. She deserved that much.

Peverell Estate, December 2004

The thinnest line of light managed to slip in between the two black curtains, the beam landing right across Elysia's closed eyes, causing her to stir. Cracking open one eye proved a mistake as she was momentarily blinded before the light itself was blocked out by a dark form with bright green eyes, which then proceeded to leave a slobbering mess across the young woman's face. "Ugh! Anand! That's not how you wake up a person in the morning!" Two more tongue licks later, the black mass of fur jumped off the bed before Elysia could grab him. Snatching a tissue from the bedside table, the raven haired girl, after cleaning her face, looked towards the other furry creature that was her constant companion, this one still rolled up in a ball at her side. She ran her fingers caringly through its soft pelt, feeling the feline starting to purr in its half awake state. Elysia smiled. "Morning, Macha. Time to wake up." The woman sat up, the bed sheets slipping off her form as she stretched out her arms behind her head, several bones popping back into place along her back, before she sighed in contentment. Picking up her discarded robe from last night, the woman slipped into it, before leaving the bed. As she neared the bathroom door, she reached up with her hand and rubbed the sleeping form of a raven perched high on the dresser, its black feathers just a shade darker than the wood of the piece of furniture. "Morning, Badb, time to wake up." A single green eye blinked at her drowsily before the bird cawed at her, with Elysia giggling. "Fine, fine, but if you miss out on the toast from breakfast, it's your fault."

After taking a satisfyingly warm shower, Elysia cleared the fogged up glass and began to brush her teeth, all the while she could hear several noises, most of them impacts and screeches from her bedroom. The moment she swung the door open, she found Macha attached to Anand's back as the large canine ran around the room and even over the bed, trying to shake the cat off, all the while Badb watched on from his perch, grooming himself with clear disinterest in the shenanigans the other two were perpetuating. Sighing to herself, Elysia, now dressed in a tight fitting white t-shirt and some yoga pants, made her way towards her bedroom door, Badb landing on her shoulder as she walked into her sitting room. The table was already set with a delicious looking omelet, a side of bacon, a couple of slices of fresh bread and a piping hot cup of coffee. After Elysia sat down and picked up the cup into her hands, letting the warmth diffuse into her fingers, she leaned back, almost melting into the upholstery of her high back chair, before taking a sip that left her sighing in content. She took a moment to look out of the floor to ceiling window, past the wooden frames, and out across the backyard of the extensive estate. While not anywhere near the size of Hogwarts Castle, the Peverell family's Estate was definitely designed with a large family in mind. When she had first walked through its doors, she had slept in the lower floors, as she cleaned through the building, room by room. Many of those rooms were now closed off, the doors locked by key and magic. It was to save on the effort it took to clean the entire place… and to keep a certain elf from overworking herself.

"Ida." After a soft pop, Elysia looked towards her right, smiling at the most recent member of her household. The young elf had been living in the grounds of the Estate, a descendant of the elves that had tended the property from over a thousand years ago, her siblings and extended family living as free elves in the forested country that stretched out for miles. She alone had asked to be allowed to serve the family, and Elysia had initially refused, until they entered into negotiations. Ida would not be a servant of the household, but a family member who would look after herself first, before tending to Elysia and the building. If only she would follow through with that first part. "The breakfast looks wonderful, as always. Have you eaten?" The young elf with bright amber eyes nodded as her hands tugged on her green dress. "I have, mistress." Elysia raised an eyebrow. "How much?" The little elf started to fiddle with her hands, causing Elysia to sigh. "Bring up a small basket of fruits, nuts, cold cuts and cheeses. The three terrors can have their fill, but only after you eat." The raven turned its eye to the female elf, who stared at it until the bird cawed in frustration. The elf sighed. "Right away, mistress." Elysia shook her head, before digging into her meal, savoring the taste, until the elf reappeared with the requested food. The sound of Badb's appreciating call drew both Macha and Anand to the sitting room, where Elysia lowered a plate full of meat for the canine, as the cat jumped onto the table and ate from a separate plate, with Ida settling down to eat beside her mistress.

After finishing her plate, Elysia looked towards Ida. "It was delicious as always, Ida. Thank you. Now, what's the plan for today?" Ida looked disappointed. "Today is the 24th. Mistress has agreed to eat dinner at a witch's house. Ida doesn't get to prepare dinner." Looking out the window and noticing how late in the day it really was due to it being winter, Elysia realized that she would probably have to forgo lunch too. At least the snowstorm had passed. The entire vista was covered in thick layers of snow, though the brief window of sunlight and the strong winds seemed to be freeing some of the trees from their snow coverage. "Hmm, I had set aside some vegetables, roots and nuts for a quiet day. Think your family would like to come in and have a get together while I am out of the house?" Ida blinked at Elysia with clear surprise. "They would be delighted! The cold has been bad this winter!" Elysia tapped her chin for a moment. "You have my permission to open four of the ground floor rooms for your family to use for as long as they decide to stay, which can be until spring begins to set in. There is enough food for a week and I will be doing a trip to Paris soon so I can get some fresh supplies by the time the reserves are low. Until then, the four rooms and the care of yourself and your family will be your first priority." The young elf cheered. "Ida has the best Mistress! Ida will find family and give them good news. Thank you, Mistress." As Ida vanished, Elysia found herself on the receiving end of stares coming from three pairs of green eyes.

"What? Would you three like to spend a month out in that cold too?" The three shivered and went back to eating their meals, the raven a bit loudly as it smashed through the walnuts. Elysia sat back as she finished her coffee. "I thought so. Now then…" After finishing her meal and thanking Ida as she returned to retrieve the dishes, Elysia made her way down the Estate's stairs, her hands gliding over the intricately carved wood handrails, before reaching the basement level. With Anand and Macha off, possibly preparing to ambush the elves despite Elysia's orders not to bother them too much, Badb fled his perch on Elysia's shoulder and stood guard on a perch set just to the right of a large metal door. After slipping into a jumpsuit, tying her long hair up and slipping it inside of a protective net, Elysia opened the door, closing it behind her as she pulled a filtered breathing mask tightly against her face. While the Estate had been in beautiful condition, outside of the piles of dust everywhere, it hadn't seen an upgrade in 700 years. It would have taken more money that Elysia would have liked to spend to update the entire building, so she focused on the essential rooms and hallways, installing magical lighting fixtures, heating and cooling arrays, as well as conjured water taps and showers. It had really surprised her how far more advanced the French and, apparently, the rest of the more open minded countries were, with their magical communities seeing the advancements of modern non-magical convenience and developing magical alternatives. They were expensive to apply to a home on the scale of the Peverell Estate, though, hence why updating the entire house would be a decades long project.

One area that Elysia had no choice but to be excessive in her spending was the basement level. While most magical families favored having a brewing station in their homes, these were usually only meant to produce one potion at a time, two or three if you were using cauldrons of other metallic coatings. To keep up with her chosen profession, Elysia had to acquire several differently coated cauldrons, many of these in the size that most non-magicals would expect witches to use on a daily basis, and all of them in sets of two or three, because producing the amount of potions needed to supply an Apothecary and Gringotts Paris' Potion supply closet wasn't something the average witch or wizard could do. A brief search of the Potter and Black properties Harry had inherited provided her with a few cauldrons, not to mention a treasure trove of Potion books from Harry's grandfather, Fleamont Potter, but it wasn't enough to be able to produce potions at the rate Elysia wanted. So, after spending way too much gold with Gringotts engineers, she and the Goblins refurbished her Estates' Dungeons into a Potions Lab that would probably have made Severus Snape smile in approval. Probably. With several rooms that were hermetically sealed using magic, vents designed to filter out any fumes and contaminants before the air was recirculated, better temperature control burners, and an ingredients pantry with drawers set at different temperatures and humidity levels, Elysia had everything she could ever need to brew any potion recipe imaginable.

For now, however, most of her pewter and gold-coated cauldrons were busy producing Healing, Blood Restorative and modified Wolfsbane Potions, as these were always in high demand, which required her to check several rooms individually. After adding the next set of ingredients in some, adjusting the heat in another and finishing up by pulling a cauldron off a burner and placing it into an ice bath for rapid cooling so that the potion would set better, Elysia noted down the completed steps until finally checking that none of the potions would require her involvement until after 9 pm. Once everything was set, she walked out of the Potions Lab, dumped her overalls, hair netting and mask into a basket for later cleaning and stretched out once more, with Badb retaking his place on her shoulder as soon as she was done cleaning herself up. She then entered one room in the Castle she barely touched: the wine cellar. Sure, it now had a steady temperature that would never change, but aside from that and a thin strip of lights, there wasn't much to do with the contents. On one side of the room were massive wooden barrels, most of them having been scrubbed empty after the contents had gone bad in the centuries since the place was abandoned. The other side had shelves upon shelves of glass bottles, though a few had been added recently. While the Black Townhouse had been ransacked by Death Eaters after Harry and his companions had inadvertently dragged a Death Eater into the property during an apparition, the bastards hadn't found everything.

During Harry's brief time at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, Sirius had been kind enough to share with him the location of a secret stash of alcoholic beverages beneath the floorboard of the Black Townhouse Cellar. Said stash had been untouched when he had inspected it again after paying his debt to the Goblins. Looking through the available bottles, she found a few dated a thousand years prior. She held the bottles to Badb. "Think they knew what they were doing back then?" The raven shook his head and Elysia sighed as she replaced the bottle. "Yeah, me neither." After not finding anything worth attempting without medical professionals present, she eventually found two bottles of wine dated two hundred years old, both from the Black family stash. She held the bottles to the raven. "A red and a white from 1802. What do you think?" Not getting much of an answer from Badb other than a light shrug of its head, Elysia gently slipped the bottles into her usual leather bag, before checking her pocket watch. "I think it's time to get dressed for dinner." Elysia rubbed her raven companion's beak playfully as the two went back up stairs, finding some amusement at seeing Macha and Anton struggling to get past Elven spellcraft. The two eventually gave up and followed after her, resulting in Elysia having an audience as she stripped down to her undergarments and started pulling out clothes from her closet. She held out a green dress against her form, before turning to her observers. "Too formal?" Getting the equivalent of a confirmation from all three, she tried a few other options, until settling on a black turtleneck long sleeve shirt and some jeans.

After spending a few minutes trying to style her hair, Elysia finally gave up and just tied it in a long ponytail, slipping on her silver chain around her neck, before finally pulling out a thick brown leather coat. Finding that her audience had gone down from three to one again, she and Badb went down towards the Entry Hall, hearing a decently loud commotion coming from the ground floor corridors. "Ida?" The elf appeared before her quickly, a smile still on her face. "Yes, Mistress?" Elysia blinked at her. "Everything alright?" Ida nodded. "Everything is well, Mistress. Mistress' companions are just being rowdy, as are the elven children. They should be settled by your return." Elysia nodded back before another loud crash reached her ear. She had had enough of that today as she whistled loudly. "Macha, Anand! Enough! I am heading out early to see if I can get some last minute gifts for the Charbonneau. You two coming?" After one last loud crash down the hall, Elysia felt the air surge with magic, as her silver chain suddenly sported a green gemstone pendant and a simple black wand materialized in her hand. Elysia looked at the last of her companions, rubbing his beak lovingly. "That leaves you." The raven cawed happily as its form turned into a black mist that wrapped itself around Elysia's body, before it filled out her belt bag with a folded up cloak. Once fully clothed for the weather outside, Elysia turned towards Ida and waved at her. "I will be back by eight, so have fun with the family." Barely a step outside in the cold air, the young witch apparated away.

"Grand-père!" Francois Delcaour lowered his hand and rubbed the young Veela's golden locks, who had wrapped her hands around his waist, as he entered his home through the Floo Terminal of his home. "Bonjour Victoire, how are you today?" The little girl smiled up at him. "I am good, Grand-père! Maman is smiling more and even helped Grand-mère in the kitchen. Tante Gabrielle has been playing with me." Said witch came up behind her niece and picked her up in her arms, much to the squealing girl's delight. "Easy, Victoire, let Grand-père get the ash off his clothes before your maman has to give you another bath." The girl struggled playfully in her aunt's arms as Francois cleaned himself up using his wand. He then pulled the happy girl into his arms for a hug and a kiss on the cheek, causing the girl to grumble about his beard being prickly, before the three of them found the rest of the Delacour women in the dining room, though the table was filled with papers rather than food. The girl rushed over to her mother's side and Francois followed her, kissing Fleur on the head, before looking at the papers in front of her. "Bonjour, my flower. Did Jacques send the divorce papers early?" Fleur nodded. "He thought that it was a better idea that we went over the conditions on our own, before he charges us a consulting fee, so that he could submit the documentation as early as possible. With it involving a foreign national, he was certain that it could get a bit more complicated than the usual divorce proceeding."

Francois sighed, before taking a seat next to her, looking over some of the documentation that she had already set aside, while Apolline drew Victoire's attention. "Tell me about it. I was delayed in coming back home after our officers intercepted a potion and magical material smuggling operation coming in from the south. Everything was as cut and dry as it could be, but because the crew was mostly Algerian with a few local French collaborators, we had to contact the ICW to give us the green light to proceed with the charges. Algeria wanted to repatriate them, but the ICW concurred with us that in order to trace the source of the black market supplies, we needed to keep the smugglers out of Algerian judicial hands. The less than acceptable treatment of prisoners in the Algerian non-magical community has spread to our magical counterparts and many prisoners of their Ministry have vanished from their records, many believed to have died. The ICW Security Division has agreed with our concerns and we will be holding the prisoners for the Investigators to arrive and determine if they can help find the financiers. Speaking of finances, any word from Gringotts Paris?" Fleur nodded as she flipped the page, whilst Gabrielle brought over some blank paper and crayons for Victoire to us, after it became clear that she wanted to snatch the papers stacked next to her mother. With Apolline seated next to her granddaughter, Gabrielle left for the kitchen, as Fleur answered. "I got an appointment with them on the 30th."

Giving his youngest daughter a "merci" after she brought everyone a cup of their prefered drinks, Francois took a moment to savor his coffee, before digging further. "Do you think you will have your old post with their Magical Object Identification division?" Fleur rubbed her eyes. "I would like to, but I am unsure what the local job openings are. Even if I got the posting, I would still need to have short working hours to spend time with Victoire, so it probably won't pay as well. Mon dieu, I probably won't be able to afford an apartment in Paris without taking a loan." Francous looked over at his wife, seeing the brief glow of white fire in her eyes, before pulling Fleur into a side hug. "You have nothing to worry about, my dear. You are welcome to stay here for as long as you wish. The house has been rather empty without you and Gabrielle and as much as I love your mother's company, my hips could use a respite." Both Fleur and Gabrielle groaned as Apolline giggled from the end of the table. "Let's leave talk like that for another time. With Fleur having an appointment with the Goblins, is anyone up for a brief shopping spree in the Place Cachée? It's been ages since we have all been together and Victoire could use some clothes better suited for a French summer." Gabrielle lowered down her cup of tea. "Sure, though would you all mind me inviting my friend Adeline over to join us? Her hometown is apparently very limited in its retail options and she has been dying to actually spend some time with me in Paris." Getting her family's permission, Gabrielle excused herself in order to pen a letter to her friend to see if she was available on the 30th.

While her time at Beauxbatons had primarily been difficult, one of the bright spots had been her best friend. After going through several roommates to varying degrees of disaster, Madame Maxime had assigned the young girls together during their third year. The dark skinned girl was very different from all their other yearmates. Polite and genuinely kind, she was easy enough to get along with. Add to that the fact that the Allure of a Veela didn't bother her nor trigger a jealous reaction, led Gabrielle to bond with her quickly, with the two of them becoming thick as thieves for the following years of study. That's not to say that Adeline was meek or restrained all the time. The witch had a temper that could flare as quickly and as ferociously as a Veela fireball, never backing down when the other girls tried to bully Gabrielle for her Veela nature or Adeline for her family's past as African Immigrants from the French colonies. This quick temper had gotten the two girls in trouble a few times, but Gabrielle didn't mind getting in trouble if it meant she and Adeline were on good terms. In the more recent years, Adeline's behaviour shifted slightly, born from her parents deteriorating relationship and subsequent divorce, not to mention her mother's financial troubles. Gabrielle had found her friend in a drunken stupor one night, after which she kept a closer watch for any attempts by Adeline to acquire liqour in the school. Her friend had initially been crossed with her over Gabrirlke's overprotectiveness, but had apologized after a few weeks, with Adeline seemingly being in a better mood just before the holidays.

Finishing up the letter, Gabrielle sealed it up and went back down stairs from her room, before placing the letter in the stack that would be going out with the family owl, Marat. The long-eared owl had been in the family since Gabrielle could remember, and boy could she remember, as her father had been spot on with the name he gave the bird, seeing as he hardly ever stopped making calls, chatting with the wild owls that had taken up residence in the woods near the property. She returned to the table and helped her sister gather up the divorce papers as her parents took little Victoire upstairs for a nap, as she had begun to get sleepy. When Gabrielle was done, she was surprised to find Fleur pulling her into a tight hug, tears just barely being restrained in her eyes. "You have no idea how grateful I am for all that you have done for Victoire. This was supposed to be your break from Beauxbatons and here you have been, looking after a five year old." Gabrielle hugged her back. "True, but you and Victoire needed me and I wouldn't let you down. Besides, Victoire is a delight to be around, at least until you need a third or fourth cup of coffee to just keep up with her." Fleur chuckled to herself as she pulled away. "Yeah, she can be quite the handful, but I feel so blessed to have her in my life, even if her father wasn't the man I had hoped he would be." Rubbing Fleur's arm in comfort, Gabrielle directed her sister towards the foyer and the stairs leading up to their bedrooms. "Come on, I think that Victoire isn't the only one that could use a nap." Fleur nodded, her eyes already exhausted. The moment Gabrielle had managed to sit her down on the bed, she watched as her older sister just slumped onto the mattress, fast asleep, leaving Gabrielle with a mix of concern and relief, knowing that the next few days, if not weeks, would be hard on Fleur, though she was glad that the family would look after her and Victoire in their time of need.

Hearing knocking from her home's front door, Jeanne picked up a towel and started to dry her hands. "Coming!" After taking off her apron and leaving it on the hook, she walked down the steps leading down to the ground floor of her home, letting her connection to the wards verify who was behind the door. She smiled when she pulled the door open, helping her daughter pull her suitcase into the house, before Adeline closed the door behind her. She kissed her daughter's cheeks after she took her winter jacket off. Many had often mistaken the two for sisters because of their appearance, though Adeline had beautiful dark skin that was a few shades lighter compared to her mother's, with just a dash of freckles across her cheeks, her body leaner. "I am so glad to see you, my dear. Was the storm too much of a bother on your stay with your father?" The young woman shook her head. "No, I was fine, though Dad and I weren't able to go skiing. By the way, Gabrielle sent me a letter that she would be in Paris on the 30th, so I would like to join her in Place Cachée. That is, if it's not too much trouble." Jeanne shook her head as the two walked up the stairs. "No trouble here. Thanks to Elysia, the store is fully stocked and seeing plenty of business. I hope you don't mind that I invited her to have dinner with us today." Adeline chuckled. "No, mom, it's ok. Besides, with how much you have been talking about her, I thought you were going to introduce her as your girlfriend." Jeanne swatted her daughter's shoulder playfully. "Hush, you. She is a good friend and wonderful person, but we don't have a relationship like that!" A voice from the kitchen drew the two women's attention. "I don't know, I might be convinced to give Jeanne my best effort to woo her."

Jeanne blushed slightly before swatting at Elysia's arm. "Now don't you start!" Elysia giggled at her before turning to look at Adeline, who was checking her out as well. Elysia stuck out her hand to the young witch. "A pleasure to meet you, Adeline. Your mother speaks very highly of you. My name is Elysia." Adeline took the hand and shook it. "My mother has mentioned you before, though I swear I had no idea you would be so young." Jeanne, smiling happily that the two seemed to be getting along, pushed everyone into the dinning room, before going to the adjoining kitchen to set out the appetizers. Adeline decided to press on. "So, are you like the youngest Potions Master ever?" Elysis shook her head. "Oh, no, I am certainly not. I actually got my certification just before I met your mother, though I had been practicing for a few years, making healing potions, blood replenishing, and some poison resistance. You know, the usual, though it took me a bit to get the hang of the more complex potions. I think I just look young because of my height. At least, I hope that's the only reason." Adeline nodded, before taking a sip of the wine, which she found was some of the best she ever had. "So, since you speak English with a slight British accent, I suppose you studied at Hogwarts? Is that where you learned to be a Potions Master?" Elysia paused for a second, choosing her words carefully. "I was a student at Hogwarts, but it was during the war. When it became too dangerous, I just dropped out and never came back. If you were to ask anyone from Hogwarts, however, you will find that they had the worst Potions Professor ever. I was essentially self taught, with Gringotts deciding to sponsor me."

Adeline almost choked on her wine. "Wait, the Goblins sponsored you?!" Elysia blinked at the young woman in surprise. "Yeah, they did. I was paying off a debt that I incurred with them and they noticed that I had a talent for potions. We came to an agreement where they supply me with the materials and a large order that I can fill with just half the materials, while the rest I can process, get their seal of quality and sell it to Apothecaries on my own." Adeline sat back. "It's just, Gringotts Goblins are infamous for being really conservative in their grants and investments. You must be an amazing Potion's Master to even get such terms with them." Elysia blushed as Jeanne chuckled. "She is. Her Wolfsbane Potion sells out every month. The Weres swear they feel refreshed after taking it." Elysia finished a slice of cheese before responding. "That's because mine doesn't have wolfsbane nor is it made in a pewter or silver-coated cauldron. While the wolfsbane potion gives a Were control over themselves, the use of aconite poisons them, harming their body, hence why they are a physical wreck after a full moon. My version uses Yellow Monkshood, an aconite plant that is more pharmacological than poisonous. Combined with a gold or bronze lined cauldron, which has less of a chance that foreign particulates could contaminate the mixture as seen from pewter cauldrons, and you get a wolfsbane potion that doesn't harm the patient, while still giving them lucidity during the transformation." Jeanne hummed to herself. "That explains the yellow coloration. I am just surprised no one thought about using a different variety of aconite flower."

Elysia shrugged after taking a sip of wine. "Probably because the Potion's Master that made the initial potion was looking to profit from the condition. He might not have cared about the harm he was inflicting, or perhaps he intended to cause harm in the first place, with an eye to do so while under the cover of a "medical" practice. Sadly, Yellow Monkswood isn't as well established as a potions ingredient, so the supply is relatively low, even in the non-magical community, especially since it's still relatively poisonous, though a deft Potion's master can neutralize it completely. Gringotts has been getting in touch with Herbologists to increase the supply, but it takes time to get it to sustainable levels, especially when there is skepticism behind the possibility of profits being made." Adeline frowned. "I am actually taking Herbology in Beauxbatons and our Professor hasn't covered that." Jeanne sighed. "I am not surprised. The schools teach you how to do the professions well, but they hardly ever have an eye for training students to help advance the practices or how the businesses focus on profit more than service." Elysia hummed to herself. "Maybe my being self taught helped keep that sort of mentality from taking root in me." As soon as a timer went off in the kitchen, Jeanne excused herself from the table, before returning with sizzling roasted chicken. Elysia helped in cutting the bird, her deft hand slicing much of the meat off the bone, before all three sat down to enjoy it with side servings of mashed potatoes and vegetables. After a relatively quiet dinner, the three settled around the fire that Jeanne had set in her living room chimney, with a beautiful christmas tree decorating a corner of the room.

"So, what made you choose Saint-Cirq-Lapopie? Someone of your talents could probably get you situated anywhere in France. The Institute in Paris is known to be very zealous about getting the best Potion Masters in the country." After admiring the tree, Elysia turned and sat down on one of the sofas, before answering Adeline's question. "First of all, your town is absolutely beautiful. The buildings and the general atmosphere almost makes you feel like you are back in time, while the small population exudes peace and quiet. Secondly… my family's Estate happens to be nearby. I was looking into the towns that were in proximity to my home and which ones had hidden magical districts with Apothecaries. When I ran into your mother and learned about the local supply shortage, it seemed like this was the right place to settle down." Jeanne placed her cup of coffee on the table. "And I for one am very grateful. After my ex divorced me, running the store had become far more difficult, particularly since he had helped out with the store's ingredient supply. I was worried that I might be forced into selling the store since, without the right potions, I just wasn't making a profit." Adeline lowered her eyes, which caught Elysia's attention. "Did you get into Herbology to help your mother out in the store?" Adeline nodded, her eyes fixed on the coffee cup in her hands. "Yeah. Dad… I knew when he left that mom's business was struggling. I thought that if I could take up Herbology, I might be able to help handle the potion ingredients and supply situation, so that mom wouldn't have to sell her store. Now that it's stable… I don't know what I am supposed to do anymore."

Jeanne looked at her daughter with concern and a measure of shame, before Elysia sighed. "As I never knew my parents, I can't begin to give suggestions on what you should do in this situation. Experience taught me that living up to your parents expectations or needs… might force you to limit yourself. Since you have half a year left at Beauxbatons, maybe you should try to find the thing that fulfills you. If that happens to be Herbology, I am sure there are plenty of places in France and its territories that would be extremely appealing to you. If you do have your heart set on setting up a greenhouse for potions supplies… you can let your mother know and I can see if I can help you with that." Adeline looked up at Elysia, wiping away some tears from her eyes. "Let me guess, you have a greenhouse in your estate?" The Peverell head of family blushed lightly as she raised her cup of coffee to her lips. "I do, though it's currently only growing the materials for healing potions. I don't have the time to handle the safekeeping of a variety of plants with different growing conditions, and I am hesitant to put any more of a burden on my lone elf housekeeper, hence why my ingredients cabinet is a bit… extensive." Adeline chuckled. "I'll bet. Still… thank you, for the offer and the advice. I will see if I can get some use of the latter in a few days." Elysia smiled back at the girl. "It's no trouble at all. So… what passes for Christmas music in France?" With Jeanne showing her a few albums, the three eventually listened to a few songs playing on the record player, with Jeanne and Adeline even singing along, while Elysia watched. The two tried to get Elysia to sing, but it soon became clear that she was a bit tone deaf and that her ability to speak French had its limits.

As the living room clock struck a quarter to eight, Elysia, having helped the Charbonneau women wash their dishes, started slipping her arms into her coat, before giving Jeanne a few kisses on the cheek. "Thank you for the invitation. You and your daughter have a lovely home and the food was delicious. I hope you two have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year." Jeanne smiled back at her. "It was a pleasure having you here and if you don't end up having any plans for next year, then please let us know so that you can join us again." Elysia laughed softly. "Will do. Bonsoir!" The two wished Elysia a good evening as well as she left through the door, before they started turning off the lights in the house, Christmas music still playing from the record player. As Adeline bent down to turn off the lights of the Christmas tree, she frowned at what was under the tree. "Mom, did you start putting presents under the tree?" Jeanne returned to the living room and noticed the two presents already there. "No, and I didn't wrap those." Picking one up, the elder Charbonneau woman looked at the card, smiling as the handwriting was one she was very familiar with. "That Elysia is every bit an angel." As Adeline reached for the present with her name on it, Jenne swatted her shoulder playfully. "Now, now, you know better. We will open the presents tomorrow." The young woman pouted but the two started to sing one last christmas song, before turning in for a peaceful night.

"How does it look?" Gabrielle looked towards Adeline as she placed a yellow dress over her body. "I think it looks good on you though I am not too sold on the color. Then again, I have only ever seen you in Beauxbatons blue or your current forest green so…" Adeline turned and looked at herself in one of the mirrors of the clothing store they were in. "Hmmm, yeah, it's a bit bright. Maybe a softer cream or darker red." As Adeline placed the dress back on the rack of clothes, she began looking through her options, with Gabrielle smiling at how liberated her friend seemed today. The two had met up at the edge of the Fountain of Unity at the center of the Place Cachée in the heart of Magical Paris. The fountain itself was initially constructed in 1816 by the order of the recently established National Magical Convention, the culmination of the restructuring of Magical Society in France after the French Revolution and the Napoleonic Wars. Unlike the Wizengamot in Britain, the Convention was comprised of entirely elected representatives, with the representatives gaining more variety after the fall of the treasonous Vichy Government and the German Occupation during World War Two, paving the way for representatives of other races like Centaurs, Veela, Werewolves and Vampires to have a seat at the legislative body. The fountain had been updated in 1946 to include figures representing the other represented races, as well as races who had received special protections under the law such as elves, merfolk and goblins. From the water stood the various figures of each individual race, with a swirl of water and liquid metal rising up and held in place in the form of a multilayered sphere, the layers blending in and separating out everyone in a while, representing the Diversity and Unity of Magical France.

While Gabrielle's parents accompanied Fleur and Victoire to Gringotts to transfer all of their accounts to Gringotts Paris and for Fleur to be interviewed as a potential employee here, Gabrielle had met up with a chipper Adeline before getting pulled into the clothing stores. Looking around the store as Adeline slipped into a fitting room, the young Veela saw that the non-magical fashion trends were becoming more common, with tighter fitting clothes for everyday use, a few even designed to show off a bit more skin. Of course, in the dead of winter, Gabrielle felt less tempted to pursue such clothes for herself, even if her less mature mind wondered how Harry would react to seeing her in more revealing outfits. Then again, Harry had barely seen her wearing much of anything that was pretty, and even then she had been a child. Now, soon to be eighteen, Gabrielle tried to balance out what she wanted to look like and what she thought might look appealing on her, though she had yet to buy many of those clothes, as dressing in anything too revealing was dangerous for her. After all, Veela were constantly approached by people affected by the Allure. The barest hint of interest or even provocation through actions and words could result in sexual assaults, many of which wouldn't be prosecuted because the Allure played an unwitting role in exacerbating the situation. Even assaults by jealous partners could be dismissed because the Allure affects them indirectly.

"Gab, what do you think?" Turning around, Gabrielle found the figure of her friend standing in the fitting room with the curtain pulled aside. Rather than a dress, Adeline had settled on a burgundy camisole, which did well with her light brown skin and jeans. Gabrielle smiled at her. It also showed a bit more cleavage than Gabrielle felt comfortable with, though it was because her own body hadn't favored developing there all that much. "It looks great on you! It might get a few boys and girls looking at you with more indecent thoughts in the summer, but the colors are perfect on you." Adeline blushed, which on her complexion just made her cheeks look darker, before she reentered the fitting room and changed back into her long sleeve knitted sweater, the camisole held folded in her arm. As they neared the cashier, she stopped at the jewelry section, looking over some of the necklaces with interest, before shaking her head and standing in line with the cashier. Whilst walking around, Gabrielle found a table full of scarves, with one of alternating lines of red and orange, reminding her of the scarves worn by Gryffindor students at Hogwarts, like Harry. She remembered seeing him prior to the first task, wearing his robes and the scarf around his neck, hiding a body that had been thinner than his fellows. Gabrielle rubbed the scarf's cloth, wondering if wherever he was Harry still wore Hogwarts colors, or if he had left all that behind as well, when he disappeared.

Briefly trying a few of the scarfs on, she decided on a simple grey one that reminded her of Fleur's platinum hair, before joining Adeline on the line. Once the items were paid, the two walked together in the street, with Gabrielle noticing Adeline looking into the jewelry stores and kiosks. "I have never seen you so interested in accessories." Adeline blushed, pulling back a lock of her dark hair behind her ear. "Yeah, I don't usually think of these things but my mother asked me to find something nice for myself. Something that I would like. When you invited me to Paris, I just… wanted to keep my eyes open. After Elysia's generous gifts to us both, it feels nice, not worrying about affording to buy something all that much." Gabrielle blinked. "Elysia?" Adeline rubbed her own arm. "Yeah, Elysia… damn, I know my mother told me her last name but I can't remember it right now. She's a Potions Master that showed up at Saint-Cirq-Lapopie and became my mother's main supplier. Mom invited her for dinner on Christmas Eve and… she was nice. She looks so young that I was sure she was just out of Hogwarts. But she is so unlike the British you always complain about. When she left our house, she left behind some gifts for us. My mother got an enchanted inventory book, one with lots of pages, tags for inventory that update as soon as she marks them as sold and ward addendums so that she knows if someone tries to steal the inventory. It's going to help my mother have less to stress over when it comes to keeping track of everything."

Gabrielle hummed in appreciation. "That is a nice gift. It's pretty much what most stores here use for their wares." Adeline nodded. "That's what mom said. But her other gift was really something. She gave me and my mother matching scrying mirrors. We can talk to each other no matter where we are, except under heavy anti-scrying wards, and we can use them to check in on each other if we can't answer. Mother has always been stressing about me possibly moving out and going to live in Paris or Cannes, but now… now she doesn't have to worry anymore. There were two small bags of galleons with the presents too, with the notes saying they were for the more personal gifts we wanted to buy but we weren't able to afford, since such gifts from her would have been too inappropriate for her to give to us. That's why… I was wondering if you could help me pick out a necklace for my mother?" Gabrielle saw how much it meant to Adeline and guided her to the Artisans District of La Place Cachée, passing by the entrance of Baguettes Magiques de Cosme Acajor, where most Beaubaxtons students were provided with their wand. As a Veela, Gabrielle got her wand from her family's Conclave, an elven inch oak wand with a veela hair at its core. Past the store and in between the shops on either side of the streets, however, were several kiosks and street vendors selling their handcrafted accessories. They looked over a few, when Adeline found her eyes drawn to a bunch of pendants and medallions.

"My mother had a medallion that my father got for her when they were just a couple. After she caught him with another woman, she took the medallion and threw it into the river." Gabrielle looked over the offerings, seeing a few of Jeanne d'Arc. "Your mother's name is Jeanne, right? Like the Saint? Why not get her one of these?" Adeline looked closely at them, pointing at one with Jeanne on a horse. "That looks like the one dad got her, so let's avoid those." The two spent a few minutes with the elder gentleman meaning the kiosk as he showed them the variety of Jeanne d'Arc pendants, which for the French Magicals, wasn't that uncommon. While the non-magical community considered Jeanne a historical figure that helped revitalize a weakened French Monarchy in its war against the British, the witches and wizards knew Jeanne better. She had been a young witch born to non-magical parents who had received some magical instruction from her village's wise woman. By the age of 16, the young witch had been capable of scrying and had spotted the British approaching her hometown, though as a Catholic nation, France would never take the word of a witch seriously, if they even bothered to let her live long enough to speak. Thus she claimed to be receiving visions from angels and saints. Through this deception, Jeanne d'Arc rallied her countries forces, using magic to aid her soldiers as much as possible without being caught, even as the Magical Families of France begged her to cease, out of fear that she could inadvertently trigger another Witch Hunt. Their fear had almost been justified when the British captured the young woman and labeled her a witch and a heretic.

What happened next shook the very foundations of the Magical World. Magicals from France and Britain were able to sneak into Jeanne's prison cell and offered to break her free. The young woman, fully aware of the charges against her and what the repercussions could be if she vanished from her cell, chose to stay. For every day that she was incarcerated, the magical community had set aside their own allegiances and begged her to escape. Beaten, raped and mutilated by her captors, the young witch never once demonstrated her magical abilities. Just shy of her 20th birthday, Jeanne d'Arc, a witch that had claimed to have visions from God and his emissaries, was burned at the stake, the girl going to her death willingly, in order to protect not only her country's honour, but the Magical World's existence as a whole at a time when Magic and Witchcraft remained a sin before the eyes of the Christian faith, though the hatred for the practice itself was born from memories of the early days of the church, when Magic had still been widely practiced in the Roman Empire. It may have taken centuries for the French to canonize her, but to Magical France, she had always been known as the Saintly Witch, her image a common sight in many magical French homes. Adeline eventually settled on a pendant displaying the saint as she held up her banner, a sword sheathed and held against her chest, reminiscent of her final moments holding a cross as fire consumed her body. Buying it with a silver chain, Adeline and Gabrielle returned to the street, finding the rest of the Delacours already out of Gringotts.

As Adeline went to a nearby store to get a present box for the pendant, Gabrielle looked at her sister's face, a mix of tears and rage. "What happened?" Fleur restrained a curse from slipping past her lips, not wanting Victoire to learn such things from her at that age. "William attempted to withdraw and transfer funds from my private account back in Gringotts London. It was a good thing that I warned them ahead of time that he might attempt such a stunt, the man tried using our marriage certificate as evidence that he had a rightful claim to them. Fortunately for him, Gringotts denied his request and placed him on suspension for attempting to steal from a fellow Gringotts staff member." Gabrielle sighed, rubbing Fleur's back in support as Apolline and Francois handled the highly energetic Victoire, who was trying to look inside all the stores through every ground floor shop window on the street. "What about your job? Was there an opening at Gringotts Paris?" Fleur took a deep breath, trying to rein in the anger that had resurfaced after her retelling of William's actions, before responding. "I… think so. Since I can't work for long hours, I was offered a part time position, manning the station during the off hours for the permanent staff members. If I can manage well enough and they get no complaints, the bank would be willing to alter their schedules slightly to give everyone in Magical Object Identification a less stressful workload, which I am fine with. I just wish the Goblins hadn't been acting so weird."

Gabrielle frowned before Francois returned, offering his two daughter pastries that he had bought from a street vendor, with Apolline trying her best to get Victoire not to inhale hers. "The Goblins across the entire Bank seemed… excited. As if some important figure in their community was dropping by. When asked, they simply stated that it was a matter of Goblin business and that it held no interest to customers. What was odd, however, was that even the guards, who are known for their stoic behaviour, seemed to be conversing about something." Gabrielle looked towards Fleur, who was the only member of the family who could understand Goblin Speech. She shook her head. "Those within earshot of us didn't say much, other than that they were all eager to meet them, who ever "them" is. That's all I got. I also got the impression that my asking about the matter could tank my chances of getting permanent employment with them, so I didn't broach the subject." Gabrielle nodded as Victoire came up to her mother, her face covered in powdered sugar. As Fleur wiped her daughter's face clean, Gabrielle felt a surge in the magic around her. Looking around, she was confused, as no one else seemed to have sensed it. It took her a second to realize why, as she placed her hand over her chest. Leaving her family behind for a second, Gabrielle's eyes darted everywhere, looking for the source of the magic, but all she saw was a great mass of people dressed in winter coats, milling about, before the surge just faded away. She stared ahead, her heart sinking in her chest, as she realized that Harry Potter, the person she was bonded to by magic, had been nearby… and had slipped away, with Gabrielle being the only person there to realize it.

Chapter 3: Troubled Minds

"It's her!"... "The one in black?" … "... youngest champion of the Arena!" …"The King himself…" A loud crack of a wooden cane on the solid marble floor silenced the chatter about the brightly lit inner chamber of Gringotts Bank Paris, with the Goblins who had been gossiping turning their attention back to their tasks, all the while Elysia was doing her best to conceal the embarrassment she felt, pulling her scarf higher over her face. First it had been that weird sensation in the back of her mind that started as soon as she appeared in the apparition point just outside of the bank. It had made her bump into a passerby's shoulder accidentally, before it faded away quickly. Then, after apologizing to the older gentleman, she had stepped through the main gate, getting her usual greeting from the fully armoured guards at the gate, their helmets dipping in respect as she passed by, only for her to suddenly become the center of attention of the Goblin tellers. The elder goblin walked up to her as Elysia stood in the center of the lobby, his cane making obvious clicks on the marbled floors. His ring of white hair and dark business suit made him appear like most of the older staff members, but Elysia knew that he, like his counterpart in London, was anything but frail. You didn't serve as Viceroy to one of the Goblin Nation's larger Districts without having lots of blood on your hands. Giving him a deep bow, Lilith spoke in her clipped French. "Greetings, Director Fueruk of Gringotts Paris. I… hope I am not being a bother." The gravely Goblin muttered under his breath. "If you bothered to appear here more than twice a year, you wouldn't. Aside from the weekly delays to our letters, your infrequency has only sustained my fellow goblins' appreciation whenever you deem it important enough for an in person visit. Now come along, my Lady Peverell. This is no place to talk business."

After passing into the corridors leading away from the bank foyer, Elysia spoke up in English. "My apologies, Viceroy, but I am grateful for your willingness to put up with my presence in your sphere of influence." The goblin waved his hand dismissively. "It's fine, my lady. The delays are bothersome, but the irritation on Ragnar's face whenever he is reminded of your decision to emigrate into our domain is well worth it." Elysia's voice turned soft, her hand pulling black strands of hair out of her face. "I… hope he isn't still mad at me. Britain was just too…" Stopping before an office door, the elder goblin turned to her and shook his head. "The irritation carries with it no ill will. You served him well in the past and he above the rest of us knows the history you have with the British Magical Community. He is actually eager to hear if you have carried out any more grand exploits." Elysia rubbed the back of her head. "My days of glory seeking are well and truly gone." The goblin gave her a piercing look, before unlocking his office's door. "If you say so." The raven haired woman could feel a measure of sarcasm and disbelief from his statement, but left it be. She rather enjoyed the quiet life. After taking the seat that Fueruk offered her, Elysia pulled out a stack of papers from her black coat's pocket, before handing them to the Goblin to inspect. "These are the ingredients I would like to order. The amounts aren't anything outlandish but I do need enough to test out a variety of combinations and doses. I have also included other local ingredients from the potions the regions have already produced, since their reactions are well documented."

Fueruk looked over the list of plants and other materials, a combination of magical and conventional. "The Americas, Africa, Asia, Oceania. You are certainly covering all your bases." Elysia blushed a little. "The current supply shortage is due to an over dependence on the ingredients of standard Healing Potions. Obviously, every region will keep a steady supply within their own borders, so a shortage won't only cause a sharp rise in prices, but the potion will vanish from the most vulnerable populations, the very people that depend on them. I am sure a few local Healers and Witch Doctors have developed their own concoctions, but having a heavily divested source of ingredients can not only increase access to them, but also increase their productions locally. With Gringotts Associates hopefully there to not only get an early supply of the ingredients, they should also be able to hammer down agreements that will guarantee that most of the businesses go through your fellow Viceroys' hands." Fueruk smiled as he continued to read the papers. "You are a rare breed, my dear. The heart of a philanthropist and the mind of Goblin. So, how would you like to finance this?" Elysia leaned back on the seat. "Seeing as there is a great deal of trial and error that I will be working with and that not all of the ingredients will turn out to be viable, I was thinking… 60 percent of expenses taken out from my personal vault, and forty percent from Gringotts Parision's High Risk Investments Fund? Once I have viable potions, we can reverse that to forty percent of the profits going to my account, sixty to refund the costs from the initial investment. After the initial costs are refunded from the Fund, we return to our previous agreement."

The Viceroy laughed as he sat back, pulling out a glass decanter and a pair of glasses. "You, my dear Lady Peverell, have yourself a deal." Elysia took the offered drink and looked at it for a second, trying to center her mind before throwing it back, the highly acidic and alcoholic beverage burning down her throat. It was a good thing that she had taken a potion designed to lessen the effects of Goblin made alcohol or she would be making her way to the infirmary in a few minutes, her stomach having instantly developed an ulcer. As she returned the glass to Fueruk, the door opened, revealing a younger goblin accountant carrying a stack of papers. Fueruk gestured to the separate desk set next his. "Let us get this agreement in writing, shall we?" Almost two hours later, as the accountant wrote down all the legalese and binding aspects between Gringotts Parision and the Peverell Family account, Elysia sliced her finger with her blood knife, filling the ink pad that she always carried with her when visiting a Gringotts branch, before she pressed her family ring into it. Once her family's stamp was pressed onto the document, followed by her signature in blood, with the blood quill never not making her arm itch in pain even as the scar had vanished with her change, she handed the dried document back to the Viceroy, who followed suit. He held out his hand to her and Elysia gladly shook it. "A pleasure as always Lady Peverell. We will have the ingredients stored here every week for you to collect personally." Elysia smiled at him. "Ah, so you did get something more out of this deal from me." Fueruk smiled back at her, a severe looking smile that held no ill will towards her. "But of course, my dear. I am a goblin after all."

Stepping out of the back corridors, Elysia began tying her scarf back around her neck, as well as closing the large black coat over her body. Her exit created just as much chatter from the goblins as her entrance, but once outside, she was greeted by the ever respectful and quiet guards, their lowered heads their only show of recognition. As her breath began to turn foggy, Elysia looked down the streets, curious if the same background noise would return, but it didn't. Since it wasn't in anyway like the sensations Harry had endured from the link he had between himself and Voldemort, particularly now that the scar that had marred his forehead had vanished, and none of her companions had reacted negatively to the noise, which she knew they would had it been malignant as from her few experiences with random witches and wizards practicing Legilimency in the streets, she decided to just ignore it and move on. "Bonjour, mademoiselle. It is surprising to see such a beauty as yourself all alone on such a cold day. Would you like to have a cup of coffee? The café down the road is one of the finest in Paris." Elysia suppressed the shiver that ran down her back, before she gave the man that approached her what she hoped would be an acceptable smile. "I am afraid that I am needed back at my place of employment. If you would excuse me. Oh, and Bonne Année." The man clearly wanted more from her, but Elysia slipped into the crowd, drawing on Badb's power. First she withdrew from the awareness of the people around her, becoming nothing but a faceless stranger, before vanishing all together. Badb cawed in her mind, her siblings joining to give Elysia their support as she calmed herself down.

While there was a part that was suspicious of that man's intentions, seeing as she had literally just stepped out of the bank, his clear attempt at flirting with her had been the most trying aspect of the interaction. As Elysia, she hardly ever interacted with humans and that was mostly because she didn't much want to. She knew her female form was attractive, as she wasn't blind to what was right in front of her in the mirror, but that didn't mean she welcomed the attention of others, particularly men. It wasn't that she didn't find men attractive either, as she could readily admit that Cedric Diggory had been very handsome, Viktor Krum had a different sort of magnetism to him that Elysia had no interest in and she knew, after having seen her godfather Sirius well groomed and dressed that his stories of being the Casanova of Hogwarts during his final years were very much true. Hell, even Tom Riddle in his final years at Hogwarts as seen through Dumbledore's memories had been handsome and Harry had wanted nothing to do with him. That said… she had no interest in men, despite what she now saw herself as. Though having said that, she had yet to find a woman whose appearance instantly drew Elysia's eyes to her, so she didn't know if she would ever find a female partner anyways. And even if she did… would the partner be able to accept her for who she was? For all that she was? Elysia didn't know that anyone would and that thought would ever stick in her mind as she eventually made her way back home after running a few errands and buying fresh groceries, where she could be herself, away from the eyes of the world.

Gabrielle stared into her briefcase full of clothes, before opening the separate compartment with all of her books, trying to see if she forgot anything, even as her mind wasn't really focused on her task. Instead, it was stuck replaying that moment in the Pace Cachée, trying desperately to see if anyone she caught in her eyes had been the one person she had been on the lookout for the last six and a half years. Harry Potter, Britain's Hero and Gabrielle's bonded, had been in Paris close enough for the bond to react, but not enough for either of them to be drawn to each other. The young blonde sighed, a strand of her loose long hair blowing away from her. So close, she had been so close! And now… now she didn't know what to do. She had wanted to search the entire Place Cachée but Adeline and her had already been there for much of the day while her parents and Fleur had been busy in Gringotts. She was an adult by magical standards but even her family would have insisted that she return home, especially as they were there just before the New Years. That day had been nearly a week prior and now Gabrielle had to get ready to head for Beauxbatons again, this time for three more months before the Easter Recess. She knew there was a chance that Harry would return to the Place Cachée if he had already been there a few days prior, but staking out the most populated magical community in France for days, weeks if not months was entirely ineffective and irrational. Which was why Gabrielle was staring into her briefcase, moving but not really registering what she was doing, as she tried to clamp down on the fact that she had no choice but to abandon her desire to find Harry until after the term was over. But would he still be visiting Gringotts in Paris by that time?

She took a look around, letting her eyes take in her bedroom one last time before having to leave for the academy around lunch time. While she had fond memories of her bedroom, she knew that much of it was now very much unlike who she was. Her walls were the soft blues often seen in the skies over Reims, the roof a darker shade of blue bordering on black that had small dots painted into it to match the starry night sky. Fleur's room had been similarly painted, though she had moved out into an adjacent room so that Victoire could have it, much to the young girl's absolute delight. For Gabrielle, however, it was just a part of her past, one she was fond of but that no longer represented who she was. Then again, the stark white walls of Beauxbatons dorms outlined by golden swirls and frames weren't exactly to her taste either. What was more indicative of who she had grown to become was the bookshelf that had slowly grown in its contents over her life. The majority of the school textbooks bought by the family were donated to Beauxbatons once they had been used to completion, the school providing the pre-owned books to the underprivileged students when necessary, whild a single copy of every book was kept in the Family Library, for reference sakes. Of course, the books in Gabrielle's room were a mix of those she had read as a child and those she had bought for herself as she grew up. From children's tales, to encyclopedias, to even romance novels, her bookshelf contained almost everything she had read at home and at Beauxbatons. Except for the Harry Potter books. As a small girl, her parents had bought her the children books, seeing as they involved a child of approximately Gabrielle's age, with her mother saying that it had been so that she wasn't unaware of their existence as her peers would have read them themselves.

The authors had taken the name of Britain's Boy-Who-Lived and decided to fill out his pre-Hogwarts years with grand tales of how Harry Potter saved unicorns from Dark Wizards, how he would sneak out to play Quidditch with other kids his age, hiding his scar, or how Harry hatched a dragon's egg and it became his familiar, the two flying through the skies of Europe getting into all sorts of mischief, but always ending up doing good, uncovering hidden plots or saving strangers. For the young Gabrielle, these books had been favorites of hers. Until Fleur wrote back that she had met Harry Potter, and that he wasn't the boy everyone believed him to be. At first Gabrielle had been heartbroken by the way her sister talked about Harry, how he supposedly cheated to get into the Triwizard Tournament and how he tried to play the victim. Then, after the First Task, Fleur's descriptions had changed. Gone was the arrogant attention seeker that hid behind the veil of ignorance, replaced instead by a boy who had genuinely been thrown into a life or death situation against his will, only managing to survive the dragon by the skin of his teeth. When Gabrielle had gone to meet her sister before the Second Task, she had seen Harry from a distance and realized from the tired look in his eyes that he wasn't the hero the books painted him as at all, but a victim. A victim that everyone kept raising up on a pedestal, ignoring the look in his eyes, the boy silently begging for help that never came. Then the second Task arrived and Gabrielle awoke from a magical sleep, almost choking from the sudden intake of lake water. The grey skies of Britain were then replaced by the green eyes of Harry Potter, and her world flipped on its head. Here was this fourteen year old boy, desperately trying to survive a deadly tournament, and he had looked at her unconscious form on the bottom of the lake and decided to save her too. He had no reason to, no reason whatsoever, as his responsibility should have been to himself and to his friend who had been his hostage, but Harry Potter, the boy who had been a victim all his life, just couldn't conceive of leaving her behind.

From that day, the day that the bond had been formed between them, Gabrielle realized that there were real heroes in the world. They weren't wearing shiny armour, nor expensive robes, they didn't have dragons for pets nor did they live lavish lives. Real heroes were people who suffered like everyone else, who lost who knew how much to the evils of others, and yet somehow, someway, they still lived with kindness in their heart and a desire to help others in need. The day she had returned to Reims, she had taken the books her parents had bought of Harry Potter's adventures and left them in the family library. She had no need for the lies that surrounded Harry Potter. Ever since then, she had focused on Harry's truth, which came out as both a biography written by the Daily Prophet that Grabrielle was certain still exaggerated or obfuscated events somewhat, and a small journal written by Hermione Granger. What was revealed by his best friend, not only reinforced Gabrielle's sense of who he was, but made the years prior to and during Howarts come into sharper focus. An outcast, a boy looking for affirmation, safety and hope for a better future, constantly thrown into life threatening situations one after the other. Hermione Granger's last words concerning her friend after he had disappeared had endeared the first generation witch to the young Veela. "Harry suffered through so much, all because others ascribed to him some greater destiny or belief that he was this grand prophesied hero. It wasn't that Harry Potter fullfied any prophecy of victory, it was that he was victorious at all against all possible odds, in spite of him wanting nothing more than to be just another wizard living in peace that showed just how strong his heart was. Wherever he has gone now, I believe he is doing what he has always wanted to do from the moment he was abandoned at his extended family's doorstep. What he was never allowed to do for a single moment of his time at Hogwarts. Live."

Having heard that had settled Gabrielle's mind as well. She would live as a student to the best of her abilities, keeping the example of the real Harry Potter in her heart, as she waited for the day they could meet once more. Now that day had seemingly passed her by… and the young blonde was struggling to follow his example, her every instinct telling her to return to the place where she had been so close to finding him. "Gabrielle?" The sudden sound of her name practically made her jump out of her skin before placing her hand over her chest, her heart beating wildly as her mother stood in the doorway to Gabrielle's room. After a few deep breaths, Gabrielle stood up fully again. "Sorry, mother, you caught me by surprise. Do you need something?" Apolline walked into the room as Gabrielle slammed the trunk closed, before placing it on the floor besides her bed. A soft hand reached out and held Gabrielle's cheek, her nail pulling away with a single tear in it. The older woman, though her hair remained almost completely unnatural in its light tone, gave her daughter a worried look. "Are you alright?" Gabrielle swallowed the lump in her throat before sitting down, nodding her head. "I am, Maman. Or, at least, I will be." Apolline sat down on the bed beside her youngest daughter. "You have been ill at ease since we went to Paris. Did something happen while we were at Gringotts?" Again, her daughter shook her head, with Apolline resting her hand on Gabrielle's. "Then what troubles you, my little angel? Sure, you have had difficulties in Beauxbatons. I remember the day your Allure matured and you wanted to stay as far away from the school, but even on that day, you never looked so… conflicted." Gabrielle's mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to find the right words. "I… I… I know what I have to do. It's just… so hard to let go of what I want to do."

Apolline was silent for a moment before pulling her daughter against her side, her cheeks resting on her daughter's golden hair. "Your bonded was in Paris that day, weren't they?" Gabrielle looked up at Apolline with surprise on her face, but her mother simply smiled at her. "You were but a preteen child with a bond to an unknown person. The Elder at the Conclave saw fit to inform me. I didn't ask and waited for you to tell me yourself, but in the years since, despite a few rough moments, you never once acted out. I was so very terrified about this bond you had… and so very proud about how you handled yourself, keeping control of your emotions with a maturity beyond your years." Gabrielle looked down at the floor. "I don't feel so mature right now. I know that I need to finish my education at Beauxbatons. I know that I have to go back… and I know that I will. I just… this is the first time he has been so close. I might have been able to see him, but I couldn't. And I want to see Harry so badly right now that it physically hurts." Apolline blinked in surprise. "Harry? As in Harry Potter? He is your bonded?" Gabrielle nodded as Apolline stared at the wall. "That would explain your rough time during his flight from the Death Eaters and the Collaborators. Oh, I am so very sorry my dear. It must have been so hard for you." Gabrielle shook her head. "It was at first, thinking that any moment, Harry could die and I would feel the bond break. And yet, it hasn't. He's alive and well, though somewhat lonely and he was there in Paris and I… I missed him." Apolline gently caressed her daughter's hair. "Perhaps it wasn't the right time."

Looking up to see into her mother's blue eyes, a darker shade than her own, Apolline continued. "You, my dear, have yet to complete your studies and even now you have told me that you are still unsure as to what you wish to be after graduation. You are, as our Elders would say, incomplete. Harry, wherever he might be, has had years to discover who he wants to be and is probably pursuing it now, away from the eyes of the very people that destroyed any hope that he might have had at a normal life. No, I think that if this bond will hold true, then you need to be sure as to who you are and what you want to be, so that when you meet each other once more, you can be yourselves. Whether it is an eternal friendship or love, that will obviously depend on the both of you, but you shouldn't let yourself be defined by who your partner is." Gabrielle allowed her mother to continue rubbing her gently, as her heart began to settle. Apolline kissed her daughter on the head. "Better?" Gabrielle looked up at her mother, whipping away some tears. "Better. Though I hope you won't be mad if I say… that I am definitely looking for a … romantic relationship with Harry?" Apolline chuckled. "Oh, I had no doubt, but just make sure that you are prepared for that not to happen. Who he has become may not be the young man everyone else remembered from the end of the war. Now why don't you follow me to the kitchen so that I can make you some hot chocolate, for old time's sake?" Gabrielle smiled at her mother as the two stood up. She took a second to look back into her room, before turning off the light, willing herself to move on with her life, all the while praying that she would meet Harry one day soon, when she was sure of what her life should be like.

A large blast echoed through the tunnels surrounding Harry as a cloud of dust and debris pelted his quickly raised shield. Despite the fact that what he was doing had nothing to do with dueling, Harry could readily admit that it was good practice, probably better than what all of the Defence Professors during his six years at Hogwarts had ever put their students through. Raising a barrier as quickly as possible following the successful casting of the blasting spell, trying to get it done faster every time was excellent for improving one's cast time and control over one's magic. Of course, that wasn't the only spell he had been practicing deep under the earth of Gringotts Londinium. After he had been well acquainted with Dreadhook's home and had gotten a full night's rest, Harry woke up early to get ready for his first days of working off his debt. Dreadhook had guided him to a far corridor that ended at an elevator, though the elevator was made of wood and rope. Still, it did its job as they rushed downward into the deeper parts of the underground, into the expanding section of the mine. Of course, he wasn't the only one there. Lines upon lines of Goblins went to their pre-assigned foremen and received their tunnel assignments for the day, as well as the quota of work required for them. Because Harry had yet to be evaluated, he had no quota, and therefore was required to wait for his assigned foreman to finish passing out the assignments for the rest. Or was it forewoman in this case? It was hard to tell by looking, even with the see in the dark spell he had been taught, but the pitch of this particular goblin's voice was definitely higher.

Harry did his best to recall Dredhook's instruction on how to behave around female Goblins. As a rule, no one was allowed to touch them directly, not that it made them unclean, but that it indicated an interest to court them. With the exception of the female Goblins working as bank tellers and accountants, who had trained themselves to ignore the offered hands of wizards and witches as simply the custom of business dealings, it was simply better to bow his head to the female Goblins out of respect, nothing more. When the forewoman was done with her charges, including dispatching Dredhook to his own assigned station, she beckoned Harry forward. "Golstrud informed me that you would be working under my supervision. My name is Lethlot, and I will be your forewoman. First, I would like you to see what you will be working with." A few corridors down, Harry was shown a corridor that had some odd coloration on the walls, beyond the dull grey he was familiar with. She tapped the lighter sections of the stone walls. "This is stone marble, though you are more likely to run into this one, granite. They are both very valuable and rather rare in these parts. If you run into deposits of these, you mark the tunnel and move on with digging the rest, pausing every time you find something of interest. That includes metal ore deposits such as this one." She tapped the shinier looking section of rock. "Iron, aluminum, copper, silver or gold. Regardless of what it is, you find ore veins, you halt your progress in that tunnel and repeat the procedure a few feet further away into another shaft. Your quota is measured out by the total volume you have excavated, so if you were to be excavating say 25 cubic feet, that means you can do three excavations, two of ten and one of five, and it would count as fulfilled. Understand?"

Seeing the young man nodding in response, the two left the tunnel before she pointed at a solid wall. "Now, use a Bombarda against that wall. You will need to raise a shield as soon as you can to protect yourself from the debris." The young man obliged her, casting a strong Protego the second the Bombarda left the Elder Wand. Both he and Lethlot covered their faces, even as the shield kept the debris from reaching them, before Harry waved his wand using a soft banisher, removing the dust from the air. The female goblin walked up to the hole and hummed in appreciation. "Not bad, not bad at all. A bit higher than normal but we have use for such tunnels. Right, now I want you to keep blasting into this hole, going deeper with every blast, while casting reinforcement spells along the exposed rock face." Harry kept at it for longer than he thought possible, finding the magic in him far more stable and plentiful than before. Had the Horcrux been draining him the whole time, or was his magic simply fully matured now? He wasn't sure, but he kept blasting until he reached what he thought was his mid way point, his face flushed and his brow covered in sweat. Lethlot had him repeat the exercise through a new tunnel ten feet away from the one he made, where he went as far as he could. Once they were facing the ten feet wide stone wall in between the two tunnels, Lothlut pointed between the upper reaches of the tunnels he made. "Cast a rock cutting jinx from one tunnel to the other from this angle. Let's see how far you can cut. You will repeat the same from the bottom, the intention being to create a large pillar in between the tunnels."

Harry looked at the rubble around him, before looking at the stone. "Let me guess, the rubble made from blasting the tunnels is used for concrete or cobblestone, while the larger slabs are cut and treated for use in more refined work." The female goblin smiled at him. "You catch on quickly. That is correct, though at times we will request you use other spells, like the Reducto curse, to reduce the debris to dust, which is also used in concrete and other materials, though with the amount of work we do, these materials are never in short supply, so we do dispose of some of it. Now, the cut, please, Mr Potter." Looking up towards where the rock met the two tunnels, Harry waved the Elder wand before him, before making a cutting motion at the right height. "Sectumpetra." A brief flash of white light was followed by a noise that reminded Harry of stone sliding on stone. Entering one of the tunnels, he and Lethlot inspected the cut, following it until near the end, the cut being short almost a dozen feet away from the end of the tunnels. The goblin smiled as she held her lantern up. "Impressive. It would seem that you will be quite helpful in either clearing out new shafts or assisting with the stone carvers. Very well, Mr Potter, let's take you down the shaft and get you to work. As I hope Dredhook informed you, you will be working until twelve midday, followed by a three hour shift until four in the afternoon. For the most part, the heavy work is in the morning hours, with the last three are dedicated to verifying that you have reached your quota."

And so the work began, with Harry waking up everyday, doing some short exercises before eating breakfast and then heading to work, his nights spent mostly on getting more acquainted with Goblins and their ways, though he had started researching the Arena. Unfortunately, all he knew right now was that the Goblins would bring in beasts for the challengers to face, these varying in number and difficulty, with some special put in place for fights against more valuable targets. Harry had been worried that he would be fighting a live dragon again, this time to the death, but Dredhook made it clear that killing the beasts wasn't always the road to victory. The only beasts he was allowed to outright kill were those regarded as pests or deemed too dangerous to spare. So Harry just left his plans for taking part in the Arena behind, focusing instead on his work, as well as bettering his physical condition. While being a Quidditch player meant that he was probably in the best shape of anyone at school, it was still well below the condition he wanted to be at. After making himself comfortable at Dredhook's home, Harry quickly established an exercise regime that was far more exhausting than the one at Hogwarts. While it currently left him with less energy for reading and studying, it was slowly building up his stamina, giving him more to work with everyday. Hopefully, once he reached a level of physical performance he was satisfied with, he could then lessen the routine, so as to dedicate more time to his studies. He wanted to do research on what spells were effective on creatures that ordinarily the wizards would never face alone. For now, though, work and exercise were his first priorities.

Having cleared another tunnel to the designated length, Harry stepped out onto the edge of a circular platform that looked down onto what was currently the ground floor, where the excess rubble was being loaded onto minecarts before being transported out, getting ready to carve a new tunnel, when screams filled the air. Kneeling down to avoid getting toppled over and to get a better look, Harry watched as three goblins exited a tunnel, before a larger creature followed them out. Harry felt his mouth clamp shut as he watched what he knew to be a wyrm attack a Goblin guard that had raised a shield to protect the fleeing workers. The Wyrm was very much like a standard earthworm in that it was long with a segmented cylindrical body, but these creatures had rows of curved legs it used to move around over open spaces, the legs easily launching the guard with a force that was beyond natural. Where the head should have been was just a massive mouth, that the creature tended to open to hiss, though for the moment it kept it close, having avoided the guard's spike from running it through. Rubbing the Elder Wand, Harry debetated the best course of action. Wyrms were notoriously spell resistant, their bodies impervious to harm from high or low temperatures. Throwing hexes or curses at it was a risk to the workers nearby. Spotting the spear that had fallen next to the incapacitated guard, Harry got an idea. Flicking the wand in the direction of the spear, the weapon was soon levitated upwards, high above the creature.

Watching the creature's movements carefully, he waited until it was forced back by the other guards, its movement momentarily impaired, before he hurled the spear down via his wand, using all of his willpower. The pole weapon skewered the creature mid carapace, causing it to scream in agony as it was held in place by the well crafted object. Seeing a rack of spears a few feet away, he aimed his wand at them before levitating several of the weapons into the air. The wyrm was soon skewered repeatedly, with one final spear striking just behind its mouth, silencing the beast even as the body continued to twitch, as the Goblin guards surrounded it. Amongst the guards stood Lethlot and, to his surprise, Golstrud, both of whom looked up at his position. Resisting the urge to come down when the attendant to the Viceroy summoned him, he didn't hesitate to do so at the forwoman's command. Goblins respected hierarchies and while Golstrud was of a higher position in the Londinium Branch of the Goblin Nation, in the mines it was the administrators who one had to listen to. He could see the two goblin's looking at him with smiles as he approached the corpse of the beast, Lethlot speaking to him first. "Excellent work there, Mr Potter, Wyrm Slayer. Your quick actions saved goblin lives today." Harry bowed his head to her. "Thank you ma'am." Golstrud poked the creature with his cane, getting no response. "An excellent kill indeed. Pinning it down has kept this scout from reporting its position to its nest, wherever it might be, and you have gotten us quite the delectable feast by not using spells or curses that could have ruined the corpse."

Harry felt his stomach rumble in disgust but wisely didn't say anything about Goblin eating habits. He had seen Dredhook eat at the house and it was… a learning experience. "Glad I could help. How soon will I need to finish my quota for today?" Golstrud shook his head as Lethlot shook her hand. "You may consider your quota for today completed, Mr Potter. The slaying of a Wyrm Scout has earned you a well deserved repreve." Bowing his head, he handed her his identification card, which she marked so as to clear him of duties for today, before Golstrud offered to escort him back as the Guards started removing the spears from the wyrm, having trouble due to them being impaled on the ground. "I hear you have been doing well here and that you have been exercising continuously. You have shown great promise and respect, Mr Potter. Now that you have slain a Wyrm, however, it falls upon me to inform you that you are now free to enter the Arena and face the Tasks. Like with your work here, the successful completion of a trial will reduce your years of service to us. Of course, preparing the Arena for the Tasks takes time, so it is advised that you notify us when you wish to try your hand as soon as possible." Harry was quiet for a second as they reached the gate that led to the elevator leading up and away from the mines. "I am grateful for the offer, but as of this moment I am still rather… unused to my situation. Perhaps a shot at the first trial in a month or two?" Golstrud nodded as the gates were opened to them. "Very well, Mr Potter. I will inform the Arena. As I said, having met you in person and now seen you slay your first beast here, we expect a great performance from you."

"Alright everyone, what's the current situation and points of concern?" As François sat down, he looked around the table at the various supervisors of the Magical Security Force, each one in charge of one aspect that the department had to manage on a daily basis. The Head Auror, and one of the oldest serving members of the MSF, read from his division's report. "As of right now, assaults and violent crimes remain low, though we did arrest a wizard that tried to curse non-magicals at a rural church in the department of Corrèze. The Obliviators barely had to do their job, thanks to the tip we got from the man's family about his growing extremism. We have transferred him to the Loudun Psychiatric Detention Center for evaluation, before it can be determined if he is able to stand trial." Delacour sighed, leaning back slightly. "I don't know whether to be glad or not that this case is the worst we have. We know that the Dark Witches and Wizards aren't avoiding getting caught in the sense that many of them have gone elsewhere to practice their crimes. What's the word from Britain?" The ICW representative that was part of most law enforcement agencies amongst the magical confederation, in this case a young man with a British accent, spoke up. "The conflict between the Neo Death Eaters, NDEs for short, and the New Blood Order, which we are referring to as the NBO, has picked up. The recent attack on the Abbott Family Estate has been identified as being performed by members of the NDEs, with the NBO responding by attacking the Burke Estate. Both incidents left the owners injured, with only one casualty reported from the latest incident, a young first generation wizard who died in the second estate incursion."

The man lowered his report. "So far, we believe that Dark Witches and Wizards of different ideological backgrounds are swarming to the island, lending their skill sets to either faction, all the while the DMLE and the British Ministry of Magic are left to pick up the pieces. As ever, the Minister has refused to ask for ICW assistance and the Wizengamot hasn't overruled him." François sighed. "Keep an eye on who is and isn't in our territory, particularly nationals and residents. If these people have traveled to indulge in the violence of Magical Britain, they will get a taste for it there, before returning home. We don't want to see them indulge in violence here without a swift and definitive response." Everyone nodded, before Delacour looked around. "Anything else that needs to be looked into?" A hand rose up and the Director of the MSF gestured with his hand at the woman in charge of the Dark Denizens Division. The dhampir with white hair and red eyes, recently elevated after her predecessor retired, spoke up. "We have been getting reports of hostilities picking up between the Were packs over a new variant of the Wolfsbane potion. According to our preliminary investigation, a new variant was recently made available to three of the packs, to apparently exceptional results. The other packs have been trying to acquire this new variant but they have failed to do so, leading to a confrontation between them. So far there have been no deaths, but there is concern that this could eventually turn deadly if it isn't resolved."

Delacour frowned. "I don't remember reading anything about a new Wolfsbane variant. Was it announced by the Paris Potion Institute?" The young looking woman shook her head. "No sir. According to the Weres under attack, the potion was provided to them as part of the final clinical trial phase of the potion, with the provider being Gringotts associated Apothecaries and clinics." Everyone at the table started murmuring amongst themselves and François couldn't blame them. While Gringotts was known to handle a lot of its interests in house, meaning they hardly ever imported food, magical materials or even potions from unaffiliated businesses, they were known to at times sell any excess to the apothecaries of the magical community. But it was definitely unusual that Gringotts was leading a study on a new potion. "Any specifics on the reason as to why the Weres are so interested in this new variant?" The dhampir flipped through her papers. "According to interviews, the Weres report that the new potion has no negative effects on those taking it, giving them full lucidity and control during the full moon. We haven't been able to verify these claims, but word has spread to the other packs and many of them are desperate to avoid the physical damage the typical wolfsbane potion produces to those who take it." François rubbed his chin, before standing up. "Very well. While this is usually the purview of the Department of Health and Magical Care, we can justify our involvement under the possibility of further violence between the packs. Moriéve, check with the researchers at Saint Louise's Research Hospital for Magical Maladies and have them try and get some Weres taking the different variants of Wolfsbane Potion to come in for a check up. If there is indeed such a drastic difference between them, the Ministry may have to get involved to secure a supply of the new one to keep the peace."

The dhampir nodded, closing the file infront of her, before the meeting was adjourned, though François did approach her whilst still in the conference room. "Cynthia, make sure you let me know as soon as you have the Hospital checking the Weres regarding this potion. In the meantime I will head to Gringotts and see what information they are willing to provide." The dhampir raised an eyebrow. "If it's a proprietary potion recipe, they will be very tight lipped about it." François sighed. "I know, but it's still worth a try. Take care of yourself when meeting the packs." Taking a moment to visit his office, the Director of the Magical Security Force started writing a letter to Gringotts. Whilst he would love to walk into the Paris branch and demand an audience, he knew better than to instigate them, particularly as they would drag their feet when someone appeared without an appointment. Letting them know ahead of time why he was visiting went against his Auror training that required him to give possible suspects no time to formulate a cover story, but as he was dealing with foreign nationals within what was essentially an embassy, he knew he had to play the political game he so desperately hated. Back when he was just an Auror, François didn't need to think about political concerns. He knew the law and he enforced it wherever he was deployed, whether it was on patrol in the Place Cachée, as part of a raid group storming a corrupt businessman's homestead somewhere out in the French countryside, or becoming a guard for the students who had recently gotten permission to attend Beauxbatons, in spite of their race never once having studied there.

That was how he had met the love of his life, Apolline. Beauxbatons had never officially had a ban on Veelas studying there, but the school hadn't had a single Veela enrolled until after Grindelwald's War, when the laws were expanded to further protect the rights of magical creatures, particularly those who were sentient. A few years into his career as an Auror, François had been put into rotation at Beauxbatons to guard the very first Veela student, as the school had yet to fully implement the training and security measures that would be needed to keep everyone safe. Right from the start he could see why the other teens were enamored with her. Straight platinum blonde hair that ran down to the middle of her back, blue eyes that reminded Delacour of glacial ice in the mountains, skin as pale and soft looking as fresh snow. Her natural beauty and the intensity of the Allure, despite being in her sixth year since she had completed her first five within her enclave, made Apolline Dumont a difficult student to handle and to watch over for, hence why the MSF had been tasked to keep an eye on her. Constant exposure to her made a rotating list of Aurors necessary, with constant evaluations taking place to make sure that the Aurors wouldn't themselves become an issue. When it came to François' turn, he could say that he definitely felt the Allure but he wasn't taxed by it. What had started as a rotating roster of Aurors soon became a year long assignment for him as the MSF needed to allocate the Aurors elsewhere. At no time as her guard did François misbehave around her nor did she attempt to instigate anything, though it was clear from her respectful tone to him that Apolline saw him as more than just a guard. After her graduation, the two would run into each other at the Ministry of Magic, as she was the Dumont Veela Conclave's representative to the National Magical Convention. She would be the one to ask him out and the rest, as they say, is history.

By the time that Apolline was pregnant with Fleur, François had already been elevated to the position of Senior Auror and knew that staying in the position would be putting his career ahead of his family, hence why he dedicated himself fully to becoming the Head Aror, so as to have fewer hours and a more manageable schedule with his fellow supervisors. This meant that he was forced to put aside his black and white application of the law and learn to play the political game with the rest of the Ministry, meaning he was required to spend time among the shakers and movers. Apolline actually thrived in this environment and had reveled in it as soon as Gabrielle had entered Beauxbatons, taking much of the pressure off from François, with the exception of the necessary interactions with the ICW and Gringotts. Dealing with the International Law Enforcement body of the ICW was a pleasant part of François' work, as they tended to be very straightforward when handling criminal activity between the sovereign magical communities. Gringotts, however, wasn't part of the ICW and had to be dealt with on a case by case situation as the relationship between France and the Goblin Nation was a nightmare of provisions and treaties. Getting off on the wrong side of them was a good way of causing an economic crisis, something that few magical governments were ready to deal with. So, swallowing his pride at having to provide more information than was necessary, the Director of the MSF penned a letter to the Director of Gringotts Paris and requested an appointment to discuss this new Wolfsbane potion that could itself cause the Weres pack to break out into squabbles. It seemed that these peaceful days were just one bad day from coming to an end.

Entering a hidden section of her walk-in closet, Elysia took a bag that was hanging off the side and opened it, inspecting its contents, before opening the thin wooden drawers that covered much of the cupboard before her, picking up the thin glass spheres lying inside. If she was honest with herself, Elysia wasn't particularly happy about opening this hidden compartment within her bedroom, but the letter she had found in her P.O. Box at Saint-Cirq-Lapopie had forced her hand. As a private citizen of the Goblin Nation, she wasn't exactly under the command of anyone with the exception of the Goblin King himself. The letter, however, was from Fueruk and described a situation that had developed in a mine shaft in the Pyrenees mountain range. As the Dwarves had exclusive mining rights for the Alps, the Goblins tended to secure mining rights for any available mountain regions quickly. Of course, Goblins don't just dig for material goods as humans tend to do. Any mining operation would eventually lead to a new Goblin enclave. Having this latest one in the Pyrenees was actually a very strategic choice by the Goblin Nation. The branch of Gringotts in Madrid was considered small and under-utilized, but building a branch in the mountains would open up business opportunities for France, Spain and Andorra. The fact that it would sit right next to the campus of the Beauxbatons Academy also gave them an opening in that the staff and the students would prefer to open accounts there for ease of access. It was definitely a worthy pursuit by the Goblins, though it carried its risks for the prospectors.

A small group of Goblins would have to not only get a good idea where to dig but to perform the excavation without the protection of a large contingent of guards. Aside from tunnel collapses, encountering vents of toxic gasses or just not finding anything of value, there was one thing every Goblin prospector feared to find. A Wyrm Nest. The team at the Pyrenees had apparently punched right through into a tunnel that led into a fully active Wyrm nest, meaning there were Wyrm Soldiers and a Wyrm Queen to handle. It often took a full unit of Goblin guards to take down one single Wyrm Scout, with the Soldiers being far more dangerous. A Nest full of every type of Wyrm possible? That was more than any Goblin District wanted to handle. The issue was that, since the intention was to establish a Branch next to Beauxbatons, it meant that the academy itself, in its hidden valley, was in danger of being overrun by Wyrms. Gringotts Parision wasn't capable of just ignoring this nest, hence why Fueruk had sent Elysia a letter, requesting her expertise. As a Champion of the Arena, she was essentially one of the most talented Beast Slayers in all of the world, having dealt with a smaller Wyrm pack as part of her Trials. While Elysia would have prefered to not take on the request, the danger to Beauxbatons was real and the job came with a decently sized payment, one large sum for the job and smaller bonuses based on the amount of Wyrm cadavers she was able to deliver. While Elysia wasn't greedy, the money would help with the Peverell Estate's current condition quite well. Getting on Fueruk's good graces also had its perks, not to mention this job would have ramifications throughout the Goblin Nation by opening up a new Branch. She simply couldn't ignore it.

Gingerly stashing away her extensive supply of spherical glass vials into the shoulder bag, Elysia pulled open a longer drawer, taking out short metal bars that had been made just for her, slipping them into the bag as well. Once she had placed two gas masks into her bag, since she was now of the mind set to prepare for anything to go wrong, she pulled the zipper of the bag closer, before she looked at the closed black case that sat right on the floor of the hidden compartment. She knelt down and gingerly ran her fingers over it, feeling the magic that connected her to the item within. Her meeting with Fuerok and his words concerning Ragnar's expectations of her made Elysia pause. She clicked her tongue in irritation. Having become a Champion of the Arena meant that she had earned a great deal of fame among the Goblins. Doing this would do it again, but did she want to pursue this task as a Champion or just an expert Beast Slayer? As she pondered her options, she felt her three companions connect to her, trying to understand why she was so preoccupied. As always, the three gave their own opinions. Macha wanted her to take it, so that the two of them could relish in the slaughter, while Anand and Badb couldn't care either way, as the death of creatures meant little to them. For Elysia, however, it all meant something to her. When she had taken part in the Arena Trials, she had initially done it to liberate herself from the debt she incurred. By the end, however, the tasks had meant some more, their completion proof that she was worthy of recognition… and perhaps a validation of her successes from her youth. Now that she was free to be herself, what was it that she wanted to be?

Remembering the final moments of the war and how Harry Potter was cast aside, despite everything he did to bring about the end to Voldemort, made Elysia clench her fist. She wasn't a hero and even if she became one again, it wouldn't make a difference. So what was the point? Much to Macha's disappointment, she stood back up and closed the secret door within her walk-in closet, before setting the bag gently on the bed. As she threw the leather and enchanted garments she knew were better suited for the coming situation and stripped down to her knickers, she reinforced her desire in her mind. This task, like everything that Harry had decided on from the moment he accepted to repay his debt to the Goblins, was about herself, and no one else. She would help the Goblins with the Wyrm Nest to benefit them, to protect Beauxbatons and to receive proper compensation back for her services, but she wouldn't let her ego drive her actions. Harry had done that several times, with his interactions with Snape, Umbridge and even with Voldemort. No, she was better than that. She could think before acting, she could put her emotions aside to make the right call and she had nothing to prove. She could feel Macha grumbling in her head about not being allowed to have some fun, with Anand being utterly indifferent as these were beasts and therefore beneath her interest. Badb, however, seemed very pleased with Elysia's thoughts, as she was never one to allow her own ego to dictate her actions. As Elysia finished getting dressed, feeling the weight of the padded armored components of her black outfit, she rubbed her wrist holster and the wand underneath it. "Don't worry, girl. You will have your fun too." Macha's essence in Elysia's mind instantly grew excited as the young witch chuckled to herself, picking up her bag from the bed. "Time to clear out a nest."

Chapter 4: All in a Day's Work

"Mr Potter?" Harry looked up from the text he was reading within his room at Dredhook's abode. Ever since he gave Golstrud the go ahead to prepare the first Trial of the Arena, he had taken to dividing his free time between exercising and studying as much as possible, reading what books he could find on Magical Beasts and what their strengths and weaknesses were. While he wouldn't be able to research what each Trial entailed, he knew that if he survived he was free to face the Tasks as many times as he liked, so that meant that while he could go in blind, he could also make preparations based on what he encountered at the Arena. Since he was given the go ahead after killing a Wyrm, Harry was certain, at the very least, that Wyrms would be the very first Trial ahead of him. Since a standard Wyrm wasn't that difficult to face, he had a feeling that he would be facing a Soldier Wyrm or even a group of Soldiers and Scouts. While the Wyrms had a naming convention that made Harry think of earthworms, his research seemed to indicate a behaviour similar to that of Bees or Ants, with them having specialized variants that direct their actions and behaviours. He doubted he would be facing a Queen, seeing as the texts made it clear that any Queens were to be killed on sight to prevent the Wyrm Nest from growing out of control, but he wouldn't dismiss the Goblins having the capability to capture a small group of Scouts and Soldiers. If they operated in a group, that would certainly make them a danger to any one combatant.

Looking up at the door, he found Dredhook checking in on him. "Can I help you with something?" Dredhook pointed with his thumb out the door. "This sector is replacing the crystal that provides us with light during the day. Mind lending your talents?" Harry nodded, closing the book as he exited his room. Stepping outside, he watched as the Goblins were preparing a pulley system to attach to the crystal that rested at the very top of the larger antechamber. Dredhook pointed upward. "Usually we need someone to go up there via levitation to both attach the rope to the crystal and then disconnect it from the ceiling. Mind filling in that role?" Harry nodded, before opening the pouch he had on his person. Since he was still making a small pension for his services as a worker for Gringotts Londinium, he was able to buy an enchanted pouch with an extension charm, where Harry was keeping a few of his more personal items, including his broom. Taking out his Firebolt, he quickly mounted it and rose up to the sealing, whilst listening to Dredhook's instructions on how to secure the pulley rope to the crystal, before removing the thick metal pin that kept the magical lantern attached to the roof. The rest of the Goblins, using elbow grease, lowered the crystal to the ground, before attaching the new one to the rope and pulling it back up to the ceiling, where Harry made sure to get it safely secured with the pin, before releasing the pulley rope. As soon as he was back down on the ground, the lantern was activated, bathing the area in light, not as strong as the sun, but enough light that the Goblins could see well by.

His roomate, noticing that Harry was looking at the old crystal as it was carted away, spoke up. "Since the crystal has "burned out" a bit, it will be chipped away until its remains become usable again, usually for smaller lanterns, low cost jewelry or trinkets for homes." Harry smiled at that. "You don't waste a thing, do you?" Dredhook chuckled. "Not if we can help it. Everything has value, even if we can't ourselves make it valuable." With both of them back in Dredhook's home, the Goblin watched as Harry returned to his book. "How are your preparations going?" Harry shrugged. "Not as well as I would have liked. I have my thoughts on what the first Trial will entail, and I am learning ways to handle it, but I am also worried about the terrain. Back at Hogwarts, I only managed to get the golden egg from the Hungarian Horntail because I learned that the Arena I would be in would have an open roof. Your people's books are a bit unhelpful on the actual configuration of the Arena itself." Dredhook chuckled. "We want our would-be champions to learn these things on the field. We can't make these trials too easy, after all. Well, at least for the first five trials. The sixth Trial and onwards you will have plenty of warning as encountering these beasts unprepared is a death sentence." Harry sat back against his chair. "I get that and I can appreciate the more open minded approach to the deadlier creatures. Dredhook…, while you can't answer questions regarding the Arena as it relates to the combatant, would you still be able to offer information about the experience?" Dredhook crossed his arms over his chest. "Like what?" Harry tapped his chin. "Will you be watching through a scrying mirror or do you prefer live entertainment?" The Goblin was quiet for a moment, thinking over what his instructions were. "We Goblins respect those who take on the Trials. We would try to honour them to the best of our ability."

Harry smiled. Based on their culture, he could make a guess as to how Goblins honoured those taking on a risk that would earn them great renown, and it wasn't by staying in the safety of their own homes. "Would all those honoring be safe from anything that the Trials entailed? Back at Hogwarts, the Hungarian Horntail took a massive chunk out of the stands with its tail." Dredhook gave a wicked grin, either at the image of wandwavers getting scared by a dragon or on Harry's deduction. "Everyone but the challenger will be perfectly safe from any danger that may befall them." Harry paused in thought. The "any danger" covered a lot of ground. From dragon's fire, to a Nundu's deadly breath or even a Basilisk's gaze. If all of those dangers were blocked, that meant that there was no means of getting anything into the Arena that wasn't already on Harry's person. There were other considerations as well, but Harry made sure to write that down before he forgot. "Last thing. How often do the observers mourn for the loss of a challenger?" The Goblin thought for a second. "If the Handlers and Healers can't get there in time, there is nothing to be done." Harry went quiet. Golstrud had mentioned that he would need to essentially care for himself and he had, preparing his own meals, washing his clothes and maintaining as healthy a sleeping habit as he could manage. Gringotts might attend to wizards and witches but they were primarily Goblins. If Goblin food couldn't sustain a wizard… then Goblin potions might not heal them either. They might have enough for emergency care but for actual field use… He spied the cauldron at the edge of his desk. "I suppose I should stock up on Healing Potions before my first Trial." Dredhook laughed softly. "You suppose… correctly, Mr Potter. Better get to it."

"Monsieur Delacour?" François and his companion for the day stood up as soon as one of the Goblin attendants called out his name, before following after the diminutive figure as they were led to the back offices of Gringotts Paris. As he walked past the tellers, he found it interesting that they were clearly excited about… something, but he couldn't understand what it was. It felt similar to when he and his family previously arrived at the bank to deal with Fleur's account and work transfer, but it felt somewhat different, as if they were expecting news, rather than a personal visit from some important goblin figure. Still, the fact that the typically quiet goblins were so chatty with each other two visits in a row did make François suspicious. At the far end of the hallway, the attendant asked them to wait outside as he announced them to the Gringotts Director, whilst the Guards kept an eye on him, both Goblins clad in armour and carrying halberts. When the attendant returned, he held the door open for them to enter. "Director Fueruk will see you now." Stepping inside of the office, which was brightly lit, both Delacour and his companion waited for the Director to walk around his desk before the creature offered his hand to him. "Director Delacour, I hope we didn't keep you waiting too long with your appointment." Considering he was asked to be there within five days of his letter, he would call that relatively timely for Gringotts. "Not at all, Director Fueruk. Allow me to introduce you to my colleague, Director Poirier of the Ministry's Department of Magical Concoctions and Tinctures."

The goblin shook the other man's hand. "Yes, I thought we would be seeing you here too, Director Poirier. Please, take a seat." As the two wizards sat down, the Goblin took his place behind his desk and gestured with his hand. "I understand you are here to ask regarding a potion we have currently undergoing the final clinical trials for." Delacour nodded. "We are. What can you tell us about your Bank's golden Wolfsbane Potion?" Fueruk looked between them. "Seeing as it's been five days, I imagine you already attempted to request information from those undergoing the clinical trials?" Poirier nodded. "We did, though they all refused to tell us much due to the Nondisclosure Agreements they signed with your institution, hence why we are here. Firstly, why wasn't the potion submitted to my department for evaluation and approval?" Fueruk sat back in his chair. "Because the clinical trials are not yet completed. Once we have a full year's worth of documented research and observations, we would then be going to submit the documentation with samples to your department, as stipulated by our treaties." Delacour tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. "Are you aware that there are growing disturbances between the packs regarding access to this potion?" Fueruk sighed. "The leadership of the three packs notified us regarding these disputes. Unfortunately, there is little we can do to alleviate the tensions. We can't interrupt the trials as they are now reaching their final stages." Poirier gestured with his hand. "We understand that, but would you be willing to provide us with the recipe to carry out our own investigation and to give the Paris Potions Institute the means to increase the supply of it?"

The Director of Gringotts Paris was quiet for a moment. "Regarding increasing the supply of the potion to accommodate the other packs, I am afraid that that is simply not possible. Some of the material components used in its elaboration are quite rare as of this moment and to attempt to acquire the entire supply of what is available could potentially damage the ability of groweries to produce more of it. Our associated greenhouses and providers were given requests to increase their productions but, sadly, nature has its own timetables and even with our contacts, convincing providers to dedicate larger plots of land to produce a material that has no established large scale importance has proven difficult. We simply can't supply every Werewolf in France, let alone all of Europe with this new potion. As for getting permission to disseminate the recipe, I am afraid it belongs to one of our Potion Masters. They would not only have to be informed as to your request, but you would need to negotiate with them regarding royalty payments if you do wish to increase access to the potion's recipe." Delacour tightened his lips. "You are aware that this recipe has created a dangerous situation for our country." Fueruk sighed. "And that was never our intent. However, we have to protect the intellectual property of our associates and the stability of the market. As a concession to your… delicate situation, I can give the name of the main ingredient that has caused the supply shortage, as well as access to one of our clinics running the trials, where you can observe the crystal surveillance records, and we may be willing to assist with a live demonstration of the effectiveness of the potion during the subsequent full moons. Is this acceptable to you both?"

François turned to his fellow Department Director, who nodded, before turning to look at the goblin. "It is." Fueruk gave them both a sharp smile. "Then we have an agreement." Opening the file on his desk, the director of Gringotts Paris leafed through a few documents, checking to see that everything was in order, before closing the file and handing it to Poirier. He too looked over the files as Delacour raised an eyebrow at the Goblin, who only leaned back in his chair. "After you sent your letter to my office, I corresponded with the Potions Master in question. They agreed to this much information being provided but anything else regarding the actual recipe will require their input in the negotiations." Delacour sighed. "Very well. We will conduct our investigation and get back to you as soon as we can." After offering their goodbyes, both men stepped out of the bank, with Poirier still looking over the papers. "Well… I can see why the Weres are desperate to get their hands on this potion. If the trials confirm what's on here, this potion will completely replace regular Wolfsbane in the open market. Gringotts was right in keeping it under wraps if the supply shortage for the materials is this severe." Delacour rubbed the back of his head. "We will see. Does the plant mean anything to you?" The Director of the Ministry's DMCT looked at the information provided. "It's a variant of aconite but I am unfamiliar with it. I will send a notice to determine the current stock of it in the country's material providers but if we want to learn more, we will need a Herbology expert." Sighing, Delcour looked westward. "We can check with Professor Persaud at Beauxbatons. If anyone would know this plant, she would."

Feeling his ribs aching from the impact of the Wyrm Soldiers claw, Harry pulled the stopper from the vial before downing the Healing Potion, the pain diminishing as it began to take effect, though he knew that a topical application would have been better. Unfortunately, he didn't have the time to lift his shirt and apply the potion, as a Scout rushed him head on, its teeth-filled maw wide open. Still, he was happy that the Healing Potion was working at all. After his chat with Dredhook, it had become clear that, while he could receive medical services after a Trial, he still needed to survive it on his own. Golstrud confirmed that he was allowed to bring with him potions to aid in his survival, and he was even allowed to carry offensive potions as well. He hadn't exactly paid too much attention to the latter at first, as he was having trouble brewing a simple healing potion on his own, as his academic preparation by Severus Snape was no help at all in the process, even when he had the ingredients laid out before him. After producing a particularly rank and deadly batch of what was supposed to be a healing potion, Harry had just taken a moment to stare at the ingredients on the table and the tools needed to prepare them. He then recalled his sixth year, and the Advanced Potions Book that Snape had inadvertently left behind with his "enhanced instructions" on it. He couldn't recall any of the improved potions inside of it but he could recall that what Snape had done with several recipes was to improve the method of preparation to extract the most out of each ingredient. Taking that as his cue, Harry started preparing the ingredients, cutting a few plants far more thinly, crushing things more thoroughly and extracting every last drop of usable materials for the potions.

Cleaning his pewter cauldron with far more care than he had ever managed at Hogwarts during his endless detentions with Snape, and making sure that he had the instructions more clearly in mind with a pocket watch held in his hand, Harry began the process to brew another potion. As he focused all his attention on the potion, he followed the recipe as it was written, only stopping when an instruction regarding the amount of stirring done felt wrong. He couldn't quite place why it felt wrong but deciding to trust his instincts, Harry stopped a few stirs short of the instructions, before keeping a watchful eye on the brew. When he tossed in the dried leaf to test if it was working accordingly, he was momentarily stunned when he saw it turning green and full of life. It would have taken far too long for the cauldron to cool down to successfully cork the vials, so out of desperation, he filled a large tray with loads of conjured ice, before resting the Cauldron on it. Seeing he was running out of time to make his way to the Gringotts Londinium Apothecary before curfee, Harry was finally able to transfer the lukewarm potion into a vial and went to have it reviewed by a professional. When the Goblin held the vial to the light, he hummed in appreciation. "It's the right color for a human centric healing potion and the consistency is quite impressive. Very little to no lingering particulate. Now, let us test the effectiveness." After using a pipette to first test that the contents weren't toxic by dropping it on a leaf, he then asked Harry to offer his hand. Using a scalpel, the Goblin sliced a thin cut on Harry's thumb, with the young man restraining a wince from the pain, before applying a small amount of the vial's contents via the pippet. The goblin hummed agreeably as he passed an absorbent paper over the wound, getting no trace of blood whatsoever.

Seeing the Gringotts quality seal applied onto his vial had been a surprisingly happy occasion for Harry. This was his first, truly successful potion made without having to follow instructions that had been left behind by a far more experienced hand. From that night onwards, Harry made use of his provided ingredients, making several batches of Healing Potion, before tackling Blood Replenishing and even Bone Repair potions. An expert healer could use spells to handle most of these same tasks but Harry wasn't a trained Healer and he felt safer having a sure fire way of mending his injuries, rather than to rely on his poor magical training. During one of these brewing sessions Dredhook had arrived into the room and looked around. "Good to see you taking this seriously." Harry added the ingredient that the stopwatch indicated was now called for in the brewing process before writing the time in his notebook. "I have to. I am risking my life out there to earn my freedom." Dredhook lowered his eyes. "For what it's worth… I am sorry that my foolish brother gave you the idea to break into our home. I am sure you had your reasons and your intent, but having him there made an impossible proposition possible." Harry was quiet for a moment. "You're not wrong, but I made the choice to take the responsibility of the break-in upon myself. In a way… that includes what guilt your brother had for his part as well. And if I can manage to complete the tasks… who knows. It might have made the incident worth it for all parties involved." Dredhook stared at Harry for a moment. "Perhaps it will. Now, what are these large vials here? You haven't moved them at all."

Harry looked at three massive glass vials filled with the waste of his failed brews. "The potions that didn't come out right. I didn't feel right just tossing them away. Not with your people all making use of every little thing. I thought I could do the same but I haven't figured out a use for them yet." Uncorking one of the vials, Dredhook took a whiff before wincing. "Smells like the poison we use to kill devil's snare. That bloody weed is a menace down here but it helps keep the other vermin from getting past our perimeter. Maybe you could toss it at the Wyrms, though it might taint the meat." Harry snapped his head to look at his Goblin host. "Wait…I am allowed to use offensive potions?" Dredhook re-corked the vial. "Depends on the creature you will be facing. Wyrms and others are considered pests. Deadly pests but pests nonetheless. With them the use of offensive potions is authorized. The other creatures, however, will have certain… restrictions, usually just using your foci and a ban on anything that might cause excessive pain or suffering, though the use of potions will still be allowed." Harry looked at the vials of failed potions on his cupboard. "Based on the Wyrm I killed, I doubt a topical application of that might work." Dredhook shrugged. "Then, if you decide to use them, you best make sure you make it count." A loud whistle filled the air outside as the crystal lamps and lanterns outside grew dim as curfew went into effect, the gates that separate the individual living spaces locking down until morning. With a flick of his narrow and elongated fingers, Dredhook lit a flame and had it dance above his hand. "Well, a good evening to you, Mr Potter." Harry nodded, though his sight remained fixed on the failed potions, the flames reflecting off his glass covered green eyes. "You too, Dredhook. May tomorrow be more productive than today."

That interaction was quickly followed by Harry looking over the potions and mixtures that he could make that would have deadly consequences for the creatures, using what remained of his available funds to buy glass spheres with stoppers. He had filled these with every toxic failed potion he had made, as well as the newly made tinctures that could kill just about anything that came in contact with them, some even being capable of turning gaseous whilst kelp at room temperature. On the day of his first Trial, he had been escorted by Golstrud to an elevator that was far more ornate than the one he took everyday for work, this one made of a bronze like metal. Whilst there he did a few stretches, particularly of his arm as he had elected to wear a dragonskin jacket he had found within a box of family possessions kept in the Potter vaults, being given the chance to look through it and the Peverell vaults for any tools he might be able to use, whilst leaving any galleons behind. The jacket reminded him of the one that Hermione had bought for him during his year on the run, the memory making him miss his best friend of seven years. Still, the knowledge that she was free to pursue her own goals whilst he dealt with the consequences of their actions made his yearning lessen. After seven years on the receiving end of all the madness that was Harry's life, he was certain that she deserved her peace of mind. The Task he was about to face was one he chose to take on all on his own. He wouldn't regret a moment of it. As the elevator reached the final floor and the doors were pulled open. Golstrud gave him a soft smile. "Make them bleed, Mr Potter." Harry chuckled at the Goblin as he drew the Elder Wand. "Will do."

As the large grated gates before him were raised upward to grant him passage, Harry's eyes grew adjusted to the bright light of the Arena, before the scene in front of him was made clear. Rather than a wide open arena as Harry had expected, he was greeted to a terrain filled with alternating regions of flat ground and rocky outcroppings. The entire area was ringed by a high wall that was at least three stories tall, with the spectator stand radiating outwards, the stands themselves being filled to the brim, though they were oddly quiet. A voice he recognized as Rangar, Viceroy of Gringotts Londinium, filled the air. "Welcome all to the First Trial of Challenger Harry Potter, as he seeks to repay his debts to our district after breaking into our establishment and successfully breaching a Vault. While his mission has been judged by myself and by our King as honourable…" Harry noticed the shift in the audience, first by the loud boos that radiated outwards when he was declared as an intruder to their home, followed quickly by the awed voices of those most vocal after the King's pronouncement was mentioned. Harry himself had been surprised, as neither Ragnar nor Golstrud spoke of the King having weighed in on Harry's actions. The King himself was someone Harry knew was spoken of in great reverence by most Goblins, though he had yet to hear his name being uttered, though he had an inkling of what it could be. Ragnar continued his brief remarks. "... Mr Potter had elected to risk his life to earn back his honour and freedom. Let us now observe as he takes the first step down the path to redemption. Release the beasts! Good luck, Challenger Potter."

As the gates to the far end of the arena began to be raised, he watched as several Wyrms in their fleshy red coloration rushed outward, the Scouts quickly digging into the ground, disappearing from sight. Harry had briefly been concerned about them, until he saw three larger beasts heading his way, these rushing towards him at great speed. Waving his wand towards them, Harry decided to test their magical resistance. As expected, a banisher successfully launched one of the larger beasts back quite far, causing the other two to screech. Getting a bad feeling, Harry moved away from where he was and rushed for the rocky terrain, deciding it was better to be on uneven boulders than on flat land where a claw could reach out towards him or the floor could suddenly become a mouth ready to pin him down and start chewing off one of his legs. His fears proved true as he felt the Scouts break through the ground just behind him, right where he had just stepped on. Since these creatures had no eyes, at least as far as Harry knew, he hazarded a guess that their method of detection was tied to sensing ground vibrations. As he jumped to one of the pillars, he sent several banishers elsewhere, creating impact sites that drowned out what vibrations his stunt made. As the scouts returned to the ground, Harry realized that the Soldiers were still heading towards him, meaning that they at the very least could "see" him. As one neared his position, he drew a glass sphere into his off hand, banishing the other two back as far as he could, until the single Soldier Wyrm was right next to him. Momentarily stunned as the beast reared itself upwards, exposing three pairs of claws to use against him as well as its massive mouth filled with long spear-like teeth, Harry recovered quickly enough to toss the now corkless sphere into the creature's mouth.

He felt one of the claws tear at his calf, but not deeply as he jumped to another boulder, before filling the area with banishers to blind the Scouts and push back the other two Soldiers Wyrms. The one that had swallowed the vial turned its attention back towards him for a moment before it started screeching, a steady and thin line of fumes escaping its mouth. Leaving the hopefully dying creature to its demise, Harry focused his attention on the others, dodging another swipe from a Soldier, only to find a Scout having popped out of the ground right beneath him, though it was clearly unsure where he was. Blasting it with a Reducto, the creature screamed in pain before looking in his direction as Harry cast the curse once more, shattering several of the creature's teeth in the process. Having pulled out another vial, uncorking it and tossing it at the gap in the beast's mouth, Harry was already looking for the others, launching the two Soldier Wyrms back, when he felt himself getting launched against a rock. Feeling a few cracked ribs, he quickly dodged out of the way of several claws as the first Soldier Wyrm had yet to expire, though its movements were unstead and sluggish. Once he downed two healing potions, Harry tried to get a better grasp of the situation. One of the Scouts was laid out on the ground, having seemingly died from the vial he fed them, whilst the other Soldier still looked alive, though struggling. That left him two scouts and two soldiers to deal with. Based on their reactions to the poison tinctures, Harry used the remaining vials on the two Scouts, using their digging behaviour to his advantage by drawing them to him and away from the Soldiers.

With his last remaining vials dumped into the mouth of one the other Soldiers, he was now left with a half dead beast and another that was growing increasingly more violent, barely giving him a moment to rest. As the healthy one impacted him with its tail, cracking his arms as he shielded himself from the impact, he smirked to himself as he was deposited next to one of the scout corpses. Picking up several of the broken teeth, he was quickly forced to drop his body to the ground as one of the Soldier Wyrms tried to impale him, leaving Harry just beneath the creature's body. Using the tooth he procured, he managed to hit the carapace in one of the grooves, causing the creature's green blood to leak onto his body. Taking advantage of the wound, Harry then took the Elder Wand and jammed it into the gash, the blasting hex already at the tip of his tongue. The Soldier Wyrm that had landed on top of him exploded into a mess of guts and exoskeleton, leaving Harry feeling a mixture of relief and disgust. By the time he got up and had cleaned up his face, he noticed that the remaining Soldier Wyrm, the first one he had poisoned, had collapsed, though it continued to shudder. Sighing to himself, Harry approached the beast, the creature no longer able to move. He stared at it for a moment, unsure how to end its suffering. He had defaulted to a Reducto against them as it was a relatively powerful curse, but the creature before him was on its last legs. He knew of one curse that was relatively painless but he was pretty sure he didn't hate the creatures enough for it, let alone anyone else. Sighing to himself, Harry decided to just make it quick. After piercing its carapace with the spare tooth, he placed the tip of the Elder Wand in the wound. "Difindio!" In a second, the head of the beast slid off its body, the last of the creatures now rendered lifeless.

Throughout the match the crowd had remained unusually silent for Harry, but after the last beast was dead, a resounding cheer erupted from the masses as Ragnar's voice echoed out. "It would seem that Mr Potter has proven himself able to survive a less than pleasant day at the mines. Congratulations, Harry Potter, Wyrm Slayer. You have completed your first Trial. I hope I speak for everyone here by saying that we look forward to seeing how far you are willing to go." Seeing Ragnar at what he assumed was the Arena's VIP box, Harry waved at it and at the rest of the spectator stands, before flicking off the guts of Wyrm still attached to him. His strategy of using potions as a means of dealing with these beasts didn't go exactly as planned, but taking out half of the enemy creatures was still better than nothing. Stashing away some of the Wyrm teeth in case they could prove useful later, he noticed the gate that he exited from being lifted up, with Golstrud waiting for him at the elevator. "Excellent work, Mr Potter, though it's a shame that the meat from most of the Wyrms won't be of much use for us. What will all the poison you dumped into them and all." Harry blushed as he rubbed the back of his head as he entered the elevator. "Sorry about that. I could provide you with the recipes that I used. Maybe there is a reagent you can use to neutralize the poison?" Golstrud chuckled. "We will see. Still, you made them bleed. As someone who lost family to said beasts, well done in paying them back." Harry nodded as the elevator began to rise, though he frowned as he felt an odd sensation in the back of his mind, as if something or someone beside him was… content. He had no idea where that was coming from and it vanished as soon as he focused on it.

"Cimex Percutio!" Macha's sense of delight filled Elysia's mind as the curse blasted a hole through the Soldier Wyrm's carapass, right where its brain was located, its body dropping to the ground as its extremities twitched as what remained of the creature's life seeped out. Looking around was slowly becoming easier as the thick purple fog was beginning to dissipate, revealing a bunch of Scout, Drone and Worker Wyrm cadavers littering the ground. Sensing the approaching threat, Elysia dodged to the side before turning around and pressing Macha right onto the Soldier's head, its brain matter exploding out the back as the piercing curse that she had developed to counteract the Wyrms did its job. After Harry's time in the Arena, and the disappointment from the Goblins over his use of potions that made the processing and use of the meat for anything, even fertilizer, useless, he had dedicated some time to develop a means to more effectively counter Wyrms. The spell he had crafted after repeated trials against a saved piece of exoskeleton proved to be useful in the following years, though he had also been worried about what a large group of the beasts like the one he faced at the Arena could do if they happened to be uninhibited by wards. During his brewing of both healing potions and more offensive tinctures, he often tested a few on smaller insects to see if they would react negatively to them. After verifying that one particular tincture worked on cockroaches at a very low dose, he had handed a larger sample to the Goblins for them to test, as they were able to capture Wyrms for their Trials, meaning they could easily test the potions effectiveness. To Harry's surprise, they replied quickly, saying that a concentrated dose of the gaseous potion took out the Scouts and all the other Wyrms, except for the Soldiers. They had no way to test it on a Queen, so that was never determined.

At least, not until now, as Elysia stared through the lenses of her gas mask at the massive creature that had been impaled into her position, both to expose the creature as much as possible to the toxin as well as to prevent its escape. After dealing with the last surviving Soldier Wyrms, Elysia inspected the Queen, watching it struggle against the metal lances that had been sized up to javelin length before they had been magically hurled at the Queen, as the clouds of toxic gasses had been released from the glass vials that Elysia had scattered throughout the tunnel complex, having explored and mapped the nest while under the effects of Badb's protection. Once certain that as many of the creatures had been gathered in the nest as were nearby, Elysia had created a massive spherical ward scheme that had trapped the beasts within, before beginning the extermination. The Queen Wyrm, its carapace clearly being softer than a Soldier Wyrm's, was massive, the creature easily being two stories tall and exceedingly wide. At the back of a massive abdomen, Elysia could see a point where eggs were being deposited from her into slots that the Wyrm Workers had probably been digging into the wall, filling it with organic matter for the larvae to feed on. Looking back up to the creature's head, The young witch shrugged. "Sorry, but you really should have found a different spot for your nest. Cimex Percutio!" Blasting a hole through the creature's head brought the gurgling noise it had been making to an end. "Alright you three, I want a sweep of the nest. Anything alive, you let me know and we will handle it together."

Getting confirmation from all of her companions, the three took on their animal forms before rushing through the tunnels of the nest. Elysia had sealed all possible exits with the spherical ward that she had raised, and there had been more than enough toxin in the air to kill anything less than a Soldier Wyrm or the Queen itself, but she wanted to be sure nothing else remained. When the three returned empty handed with no signs of life, Elysia sighed in relief, before digging into her pant pocket. Releasing the small recording crystal once it was fed enough magic to activate it, Elysia made sure to hover it near every single Wyrm corpse. Unlike her first Task against the beasts, the toxin used today that had been developed had a short "active state," once it mixed with air. By the time the Goblins retrieve the bodies, there would be little, if any, trace of anything harmful on the corpses, meaning that after a thorough cleaning, the meat would still be quite edible. Well, edible for Goblins. There weren't enough galleons in the world for anyone to convince her to eat the godsforsaken Wyrm meat, and that was after she had inadvertently tasted it when Harry had blasted one at point blank range. Food had tasted off for weeks after that and she wasn't interested in damaging her tastebuds again. Once her work was fully recorded, she stashed the crystal in a sealed case, ready to have it delivered to Fueruk, before she made her way to the mineshaft that had led the Goblins to discovering the Nest in the first place. Grabbing a handle attached to a small platform, she activated the mechanism that moved her and the platform up the perpendicular shaft, her companions returning to their natural forms as she ascended out of the darkness.

Once at the end of the shaft, Elysia took off her gas mask, momentarily squinting from the bright light of the sun as it shined down on the Pyrenees Mountain Range during a particularly cloudless day in winter, the peaks of the nearby mountains all covered in beautiful white snow. The Goblin prospectors that had been waiting for her at the entrance of the mine all gathered around as the Chief Prospector approached her, all of them covered in thick coats to push back the cold. "Lady Peverell, has the Nest been cleared?" Elysia nodded. "It has, but I would still suggest the Parision Guards inspect it first. The Queen and its workers are dead, but there are quite a few larvae and eggs sealed up in the nest's walls. They need to be removed before they begin to hatch and end up giving you all more trouble." The Goblins all started to grumble about delays before Elysia gave them news they wouldn't mind getting. "That said, there is a lot of perfectly preserved Wyrm meat down there that you all can get rations off, so the delay will surely be worth your time." The raven haired witch shook her head at the dreamy expression on the face of the Goblins at the mention of the Wyrm leftovers. Whilst she had learned much during her five years at Gringotts Londinium, the culinary tastes of a species that delighted itself in eating the meat of predators that would just as easily eat them would likely forever remain a mystery to her. And she honestly didn't want to know. As she approached the Apparition point of the prospecting site, Elysia looked down the mountainside to the valley just below, and the structure that barely rose from the heavy layer of snow that covered the region.

Where the white snow covered the slopes of the surrounding mountains, in the valley itself stood an immense palace-like complex, including massive grounds of open ground, snow covered fountains and gardens, all leading up to white walls that seemed untouched by time as the Beauxbatons Academy campus rose up from the ground. Looking more at home near Versaille than in the high mountains, Beauxbatons seemed to still have some life in it as Elysia could see figures moving over the snow covered ground, though clearly most of its inhabitants favored staying indoors. The sight made her a bit nostalgic for Harry's days at Hogwarts during the winter, a time usually spent in solitude as many of Harry's friends would head back home for the Holidays. Feeling a gust of chilly wind blowing across her face, Elysia pulled her scarf out of her coat pocket and wrapped it around her neck and face. She briefly wondered what the interior of the Academy was like, if it was even more ornate than the exterior with its endless rows of windows stretching out across the entire face of the building, when an odd sensation in the back of her mind became noticeable again. She had felt it before, that day back in Place Cachée. Her three companions, particularly Badb, all seemed to have stopped discussing today's successful hunt and were now focused on her. Elysia stared at the building from her position high on the cliffside, before turning around. "We are heading home." The three companions all seemed disappointed but understanding, as Elysia focused her mind and apparated them all away. Whatever that odd feeling was, it wasn't worth the attention her sudden appearance at Beauxbatons would bring if she were to pursue it. She had enough people demanding her attention as it was already.

"Well, it would seem the Pyrenees Project is back on course." Fueruk looked towards his fellow viceroy across the table. "Is that disappointment I hear in your voice, Ragnar?" The older goblin waved off the comment. "No, not really." Another goblin, this one thinner and with darker skin, chuckled to himself. "I think Ragnar is simply disappointed that he won't be sampling some of that delicious Wyrm meat without having to pay more galleons than he would deem necessary." Fueruk smiled at that before snapping his fingers. "That reminds me. At the behest of Lady Peverell, I was instructed to deliver these to you all." Several boxes were levited from Fueruk's side before being placed before each of the viceroys of the Goblin Nation within their meeting hall, the place darkly illuminated with a few dim crystals hanging from the roof and torches burning along the walls. Taking the final box, Fueruk walked along the edge of the long table before approaching the elevated throne, holding out the box as he bowed his head before the Goblin King, who was currently presiding over the Viceroy Meeting. "These were all harvested from the Queen Wyrm, with the meat being properly cleaned and preserved. We would never assume to provide anyone here with prepared food so we will leave it up to everyone's favorite cook to make these into the culinary masterpieces they deserve to be." The King's attendant scanned the box before taking it from Fueruk, who bowed his head deeper, before returning to his seat on the table. Everyone else present had already opened the boxes and smelled the meat, anticipation clearly visible on all of their faces.

The king himself, a somewhat larger goblin with more traditional clothes and adorned with golden accessories, smiled after confirming the offering. "There hasn't been meat from a Wyrm Queen on the market for over a thousand years. You may offer our Champion our satisfaction with this tribute." One of the other viceroys, this one just as pale as Ragnar, grumbled. "It's a shame she didn't record the slaughter. To see an Arena Champion of her renown kill an entire nest would have been worth charging tickets for admission at a large gathering." Fueruk shook his head. "I am afraid the slaughter was less… involved than the Arena Trials we all bore witness to. The Lady Peverell has indicated to me that she has no taste for pursuing fame nor glory. She exterminated the nest by sealing it up with a similar ward to the one we use in the Arena, before exposing the interior to the gas she developed. Everything that hardly qualified as lethal on their own right was dead in minutes. She then dispatched the Soldiers and Queen with targeted strikes. I believe she was making up for her mistakes in the first trial. In fact, I was requested to give Ragnar first pick on the meat we will be making available on our market, up to a certain amount, of course. She has no intention of slighting any other of the Goblin Nation Districts." Ragnar finally seemed pleased with what he heard, as even the King chuckled from his throne. "It would seem we have been truly blessed with quite the generous Champion. Now then, I believe this meeting was regarding the current unrest in Albion?"

Ragnar straightened his position in his seat. "As of right now, the conflict between the wandwavers has yet to cost Goblin blood, but aside from medical supplies, sales and investments in Britain are down." The viceroy closest to Ragnar grunted. "And even with medical supply sales being up, the supply itself is running low. We have already raised the prices for potions but eventually the Ministries will intervene to keep inflation down. We will need a global response to the spike in prices and the low supply of healing potions to maintain steady profits." The Goblin King tapped his chin in thought, though he noticed Fueruk holding out his hand. "I take it you have a suggestion to deal with this crisis?" Fueruk chuckled. "As it so happens, Lady Peverell and I had discussed the supply shortage and she has been developing alternative healing potions using a variety of international materials. She will be providing me the results of her experimentation in the coming weeks. Should these potions prove viable, we could see a stabilization of the market, as far flung regions will no longer need to rely on Eurasian primary ingredients. Each region will, theoretically, be able to fill up their own stock with locally sourced materials, leaving the standard healing potion supply available for sale on the European Continent. Of course, as these recipes will be the intellectual property of all Gringotts Banks, we will be able to obtain royalties for every vial sold as soon as they are released to the public. As it stands, the only issue is the interim period as the potions are developed and clinically tested before getting international approval."

Another Goblin Viceroy with a high pitch voice spoke up. "That does seem like a viable solution but why not drive up the prices by keeping the supply below international demand? We can make quite a lot more coins by inflating the prices." Ragnar nodded. "That would certainly earn us more coin… in the short term. Looking at the market in the long term, having a decentralized source of Healing Potions will keep the prices down everywhere, thereby allowing more of our product to reach the consumers. The more consumers we reach, the more our brands gets promoted, the more business we draw to ourselves in the form of repeat customers. Maintaining a stable flow of currency should be of higher importance than getting a sudden large influx of gold with no guarantees of future investments." Fueruk nodded in agreement. "I concur with my fellow viceroy. We are already preparing a similar proposal regarding the new Wolfsbane Potion. Sure, we could have sold it at a higher price and the Weres would have bought it, but earning the trusts of the packs gives us a new market we can make business with. That and the fact that the new potion will utterly replace the previous product will mean that Weres that had previously refused to take the original potion over the concerns over the weakened state it left them in after the full moon will be interested in taking the new variant once its effectiveness becomes well known. We foresee an increase in sales of around thirty percent from what they were previously."

The viceroys continued to debate the merits of controlling the potion supply and price at the source versus lowering the price across the board, before the King struck his scabbarded sword on the ground, making everyone present go silent. "As we have yet to establish the new supply of potions, I hereby order all the District Banks to stockpile as much of the Healing Potion as possible. We will seek a profit improvement that remains well above the pre-British Troubles prices until such a time as the new recipes become available and are properly tested. If everything goes as planned, we will decrease the price across the market as soon as the new supplies are ready for distribution." The Viceroys stood up and bowed their heads. "By your will, your Majesty." As the Viceroy began to leave the chamber, Fueruk found himself being summoned to stand before the king. Kneeling before the throne, the viceroy waited for his king to speak. "It would seem that Lady Peverell has become your proverbial golden goose." Fueruk nodded. "She has. While she may not crave the limelight nor the authority her power could afford her, her kind nature ensures that she will bring aid where it's needed. I worry about her potentially getting drawn into Britain's conflict again, though for now she is content to simply be left alone." The king chuckled. "She is quite the human, holding such unparalleled powers and yet deciding to live in anonymity, ever looking to aid those who need it most. Tend to her well, Fueruk. I do not wish for the Goblin Nation to lose such a citizen simply by failing to keep her happy." Fueruk bowed his head further. "I understand. Lady Peverell will be looked after as you command, my King. You have my word."

Chapter 5: Looking Ahead

"Easy with those roots, Mademoiselle Charbonneau. If you want the plant to reach its peak harvesting condition, the roots can't be torn. You must gently pry them, dirt and all, out of the pot before replanting it into the larger vessel." Adeline nodded as the Herbology Professor Chantal Persaud walked past her and Gabrielle, whilst inspecting the rest of the students as they prepared the aconite plants for their next stage of growth, all of them wearing their dragonhide gloves. The professor herself spoke with a creole accent, her dark skin highlighted beautifully with her traditional robes in bright, vivid colors that evoked the jungles of French Guiana, her dark hair held in cornrows tightly upon her scalp. Her gaze swept the room, before she tapped her wand to gently push back a student that had been about to touch the leaves with their bare fingers. Her voice was soft but sure. "This is your final term of Herbology so we will be going over all the fundamentals of the discipline. I am sure you all are keenly aware of the dangers of devil snare, mandrakes and even bubotubers. However, just because a plant is non-magical, it does not mean that it is not dangerous to us. Despite the usefulness of aconite as a potion's ingredient, most of its variations are deadly poisonous to any human, as well as other living creatures, whether it is the roots or the leaves. As such, you must always be vigilant regardless of what plants you handle. If it is your goal to pursue a future in Herbology, please keep either a good mental inventory of all known plants, if not a small journal with adequate depictions. Even if you do encounter a brand new, undiscovered plant, every precaution must be taken… before you risk more than you are aware."

As the class said "yes, Professor," and continued to finish replanting the wolfsbane plants, two figures appeared at the greenhouse door, the men scraping off snow from their shoulders as some of the greenhouses were built separate from the Beauxbatons main building. Gabrielle looked up from her plant having finished with the transfer of it from the pot in front of her after patting the dirt down, before doing a double take as she recognized her father. He too noticed her and waved at her in greeting before approaching the professor with his companion. After a quiet discussion that none of the students heard, the two men waited by the professor's desk for a few more minutes as Persaud checked the repotted plants whilst instructing the students on how to clean their gloves safely in the basins without damaging the dragonhide's treatment. Once everyone was done, she tapped the bell next to her at the end of the greenhouse's main table. "Alright, everyone, we will be ending today's class here. By next class I want you all to review the information on the Dittany plant and its proper care and come prepared for the harvesting of said plant to be used as a Potions material. The Wolfsbane still needs another month before we begin harvesting it, so make sure you keep up to date with your instructions on how both of the plants are harvested, whether you start at the roots or at the leaves. And when you see Professor Belnades, tell her that the wolfsbane materials may be prepared a week ahead of schedule, just in case she wants to adjust her plans regarding the brewing of wolfsbane potion. Class dismissed." As Gabrielle and Adeline finished putting away their notes, they noticed the professor approaching them.

"The offer remains on the table, Miss Charbonneau, and if you would like a fieldwork assignment with your internship, the next expedition back to Guiana will be taking off in a year's time, as the researchers are not fond of trudging through the South American jungles during Hurricane season." Adeline smiled at her professor. "I will keep that in mind, Madame Persaud." The middle aged woman shuddered. "Please, don't call me that. Reminds me of my mother, god rest her soul. Now, off with you two before you are late for your next course." As the two teens passed by the men, Gabrielle took a moment to kiss her father on the cheek and say "Give mother, Fleur and Victoire my love when you head home," before they left the greenhouse, their coats thrown over their shoulders to protect themselves from the cold as they headed back to the main building. Once alone, the Professor looked towards her two unexpected guests. "What can I help you with, monsieurs?" Director Delacour handed her a folder, which she opened, skimming over the first page. "Aconitum Anthora, also known as Yellow Monkshood. I take it that you didn't pick to see me today at random." François shook his head. "No, Madame Maxime informed us that you would be handling Wolfsbane today and that aside from Professors with eidetic memory, most take the time to refresh their lessons regarding the material prior to class." Chantal sighed. "That I did, though I have a decent overview regarding aconite for most of the year. So, what do you need my expertise for?" François gestured at the folder. "What can you tell us about that variety of Aconite?"

Professor Persaud looked over her shoulder to the alcove leading away from the main greenhouse. "It's not particularly rare, though there aren't endless fields of the stuff everywhere either. One moment." Handing the folder back to Delacour, she disappeared into the alcove that housed her exemplars of most non-magical or non-sentient plants before returning with a large pot, similar in size to the one the students were repotting the regular wolfsbane into. She gently placed it on the table next to her, careful not to touch the plant itself, its yellow flowers still closed. "It's colloquially called Healing Wolfsbane as Herbalists used it as a treatment for all sorts of medical conditions, though the practice died out in favor of pharmacologicals and standard potions. You will see them growing in the wilds of the Carpathian or Alpine mountain ranges." Director Poirier looked between the plant and the regular wolfsbane. "Have you heard of anyone using it as a potion's ingredient?" The professor pursed her lips in thought. "In the past, perhaps, but it's mostly kept as a decorative piece or simply as an exemplar of a variety of aconite. Why?" Poirier gestured at the plant. "With your expert opinion, do you believe a potion could be derived from this plant that could have restorative effects, perhaps even assist in the Werewolf transformation?" Chantal looked between the Yellow Monkshood and the standard Wolfsbane. "In theory, yes, but potion ingredients are tricky. You can't just substitute one for another. Belnades would be better able to tell you the full process but you would have to adjust the dosages, perhaps change the reagents, brewing temperatures and other ingredients. To develop a new Wolfsbane potion from Yellow Monkshood…"

François returned the folder to her. "It would seem that a Gringotts Potions Master managed to do just that, having developed an alternative to the wolfsbane potion, using this plant as the new base ingredient. They are currently only providing it as part of a clinical trial to three packs but the results have been… uncanny, if they are to be believed. Other packs have gotten wind of what essentially amounts to a superior Wolfsbane Potion and are demanding access to it. Unfortunately, Gringotts claims they can't supply all of the French packs with it, let alone all of Europe." The dark skinned woman read through the papers, particularly those detailing the effects the potion seemed to have on the Weres. "They are correct. What is available of the plant in the open market could never be used to fully satisfy the demand this potion would have, particularly on a monthly basis. The specimen itself is often planted in the next few months but you'll only see them bloom in Autumn. Without greenhouses dedicated to growing large quantities of Yellow Monkshood out of season, you would sooner make the plant endangered than have the supply to meet the demand." Poirier sighed. "That's what we feared. Gringotts has apparently requested its affiliated producers to set aside and grow large quantities of the plant but most were hesitant. And that's not even talking about the unaffiliated growries." Handing the folder back to François, Professor Persaud shrugged. "I am not surprised. As a Herbologist myself, I would hesitate sacrificing the amount of resources needed to prepare a supply of a plant with unknown market value. In this case, nothing short of a Ministry order to the nation's suppliers would get the supply to where it needs to be and that's only for France. If you want a stable global market, you would need the ICW to issue a similar edict, which means getting the evidence needed to justify the order and the authorization from the Potion's Master to have the new recipe become widespread."

She then gestured at the rows of wolfsbane that her students had just replanted. "And if your new potion is indeed superior to the existing one, that would cause other issues. Standard Wolfsbane production would drop to zero, existing stocks would need to be sold at a loss by the suppliers, curriculums would need to be updated in every single ICW certified school and the apothecaries would also have to sell their existing stock if not let them spoil. You all might have a dispute between werewolves to worry about but everything currently tied to the supply, preparation and sale of the Wolfsbane potion will be suffering a thorough reorganization. You want my opinion? Gringotts did the right thing keeping the news of this potion as limited as possible. They have clearly been taking their time to make sure everything is in order before putting it out to the general public that there is a new Wolfsbane Potion available. The best thing you two could do is try to explain the situation to the other packs, verify the claims, get the permits for this potion's recipe to become available and use the Ministry's authority to get the suppliers on board with a change in the supply of the base ingredients in the shortest window possible." François slid the folder into his coat pocket. "Thank you for your time, Professor. Could we ask you to…?" Chantal raised an eyebrow. "Not say a word about this new potion to anyone, particularly to Belnades? Please, I know Sipha and she would spread the news faster than a wildfire in the dry season. I won't be party to the chaos you all are getting involved in… though I will be ordering some Yellow Monkshood seeds in preparation for what's to come." As the two Ministry Directors left, Chantal looked at the rows of Wolfsbane, before looking at the one sample of Yellow Monkswood. "Things are about to change around here, all because of you. Makes one wonder what else you could be used for." She gently returned her sample back to its spot in her exemplar greenhouse, before she started preparing for her next class.

"Wait, the Ministry is already trying to get your Wolfsbane potion recipe into the open market?" Elysia nodded as she and Jeanne were enjoying a cup of coffee at her Apothecary after the former had delivered the new potions for the month. "Not in an official capacity, but my business partner at Gringotts got a visit from the Directors of the MSF and the DCT. Apparently, since the Weres taking the clinical trials were somewhat vocal about how the new potion was better than the old one, the other packs not on the list got jealous and have been picking fights to get the information. It's a good thing that the supply stores that provide the potions were part of the Were's non-disclosure agreement or you would have been getting some nasty visitors." Jeanne groaned. "Tell me about it. Guess I am going to have to be careful from now on about the things I say to my customers, just in case I let slip that the store handles the new potion. Back to the Ministry, though, could they really force you to give up your rights to the potion recipe?" Elysia sat back and tried to recall what Fueruk had told her. "If they did it would open them up to serious legal issues. On the one hand, they can claim that my keeping the information under a patent endangers the populace's safety by denying them a vital resource. On the other hand, because it would be the French Ministry taking the initiative, when the ICW comes looking for said permits, they would suffer fines for violating my rights, or they could suffer sanctions if they were stupid enough to try and keep the recipe to themselves. Regardless, it could all turn into a massive mess if I don't try and make a general license of it with a royalties clause for the sale of the actual product."

Jeanne frowned. "That's the sort of license most potioneers have with their well known potions, right? Particularly since it lets them get some monetary compensation for their work?" At Elysia's nod, Jeanne shrugged. "Sounds like you and Gringotts will have to go that route if you want to keep getting revenue from it." Elysia nursed her cup of tea. "Yeah, though the license comes with a major problem. Under the current patent, the potion is registered as part of the Gringotts Collective Patents Office. It's a way for potioneers, enchanters, ward masters and other magicals to have their work protected while also maintaining their anonymity. If the patent were to be turned into a license… it couldn't be through Gringotts alone. I would have to officially claim the potion as my intellectual property." Jeanne looked at her friend, seeing how unhappy she looked. "But isn't that a good thing? You would finally be getting the recognition you deserve." Elysia raised her voice. "I don't want it!" Realizing that her emotions got the best of her, Elysia lowered her voice. "I am so sorry for that outburst. It's just… When I started brewing potions, it was purely to serve my needs. Healing, Blood Replenishing, Bone Repair, anything a human with an active and dangerous lifestyle would need to survive. After I was free to just relax and enjoy my life, I decided to make an occupation out of it. I got my Mastery certified by the ICW and I started… looking past what was already done. When I was a kid, I saw how devastating Lycanthropy was and how the potion wasn't really doing much to help those suffering the condition, so… I decided to make a new one, one that could help the Weres live normal lives without being afraid of causing anyone any harm, including to themselves. Now… now my good deed is catching up with me and it might end up taking away the peaceful life I had always dreamed of."

Reaching out and holding Elysia's hands in her own, Jeanne moved closer to her friend. "But why? What's so bad about people knowing your name?" Elysia saw those brown eyes gazing at her with worry and struggled with how much she could say. Using her finger and pouring some magic into them, she drew the triangle, the circle within and the line, the image left hovering in the air as solidified wisps of dark fumes. "Do you recognize this?" Jeanne looked at the symbol. "I think I saw it in a history book back when I studied at Beauxbatons. Was it something that Grindelwald used?" Elysia nodded. "It was, but the symbol predated him. He took it from a family associated with legendary objects believed to grant the owner power over life and death. That family… was the Peverells, my ancestors. Because of him, part of our coat of arms was appropriated and made into a symbol of hate and intolerance, something my family never stood for in its entire history. If my name becomes known again, people will assume that I am like Grindelwald or that I somehow possess these legendary objects. That's why I decided to remain a Goblin Nation citizen and why I never wrote my name on anything. I didn't want to bring attention to myself or anyone who was near me. But if I register myself as the inventor of the new potion, everyone will know that I exist, and they will come looking for me." Jeanne saw her friend slump her head forward, seeing now why she was always so careful when she came to town, her eyes looking at every passerby, probably looking out for anyone paying too much attention to her, or for a face that she knew from her past. Why no one knew exactly where she lived at all, her home some lost property out in the nearby forests. Her friend was just trying to make a life for herself, helping others as she always seemed to do without really looking for anything in return, doing it because it was the right thing.

Having seen and been on the receiving end of Elysia's kindness for over a year made Jeanne strengthen her resolve. "Then to hell with them. Anyone who comes to Saint-Cirq-Lapopie looking for you won't get anything from us." Elysia raised her head, the stunned look on her making Jeanne smile. "I can't speak for everyone here, but ever since you decided to call this place your home, we have all been the better for it. So many of us owe a lot to you and knowing you we will owe a lot more to your kindness in the coming years. The least we can do is make sure that you never feel unsafe here. Give me a few days to talk to the rest of the community and I promise you, no one who comes out here looking for you or any Peverells will get anything out of us." Elysia searched Jeanne's face, seeing the truth of her words. "Jeanne, you don't have to do this." Jeanne squeezed Elysia's hands. "Yes I do. My daughter and I are finally comfortable after my ex left me and the town hasn't felt this pleasant in years. And it's all because of you. So please, let us do this one favor for you so that you can not only continue living your peaceful life, but actually make something of your career. Besides, if you continue making potions that will better the lives of everyone everywhere, that stain on your family name that the old bastard Grindelwald left behind will finally get washed away. You will see, by the time you have a child running around the streets, making your hair go grey, no one will think of the Peverells as anything but a kind, generous and successful magical family." Elysia felt some of her control slipping again as tears escaped her eyes. "What are you, a Seer now?"

The dark skinned woman laughed. "Heavens no, but I know people. Well, most people, cheating assholes who will never darken my doorstep ever again excluded. You, Elysia, are an angel amongst humans and while you will certainly draw some problems to you because of who you are, I am certain you will be able to handle all of them just fine, whilst we will make sure you have a nice and peaceful home to come back to." The young raven haired woman wiped the tears from her eyes before smiling at her first witch friend in so many years. "Well, I certainly hope you are right, because that sounds lovely." Jeanne waited until Elysia was sipping from her coffee mug before adding. "Of course, that means we are going to have to find you a girlfriend." Elysia felt the lukewarm liquid go down the wrong part of her throat before she started coughing up a storm as Jeanne laughed at her, pleased with herself for having gotten the timing right. The pout that Elysia sent her way, however, wasn't as genuine as she would have liked, her heart still singing with joy at the words of her friend and the thought that she might have truly found a place to call home. She had initially decided to come here out of convenience with how close the ancient Peverell Estate was to the town, but now, having found a true friend and a place where her services can not only help the local magical community but make their lives better, she could think of no other place to call home.

"Enter." Opening the door to the Headmistress' office, Gabrielle could feel herself growing nervous, though the room itself did have her calming down. Framed by a massive glass window that overlooked the central courtyard of the Beauxbatons Academy, the chamber itself had most of its walls filled with bookshelves, though these held more than just books. They were an eclectic mix of books, trophies, magical items and some objects that to Gabrielle seemed to hold more sentimental value. She passed by a picture frame that depicted Albus Dumbledore, Igor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime all standing proudly together, the goblet of Fire lit behind then on its tall platform, awaiting the names of those wishing to become Champions, whilst before them sat the Triwizard Cup, the ultimate price that awaited the victor. Next to the picture frame, however, was the proof that the much anticipated revival of the Triwizard Tournament did not go as planned, as it held a newspaper clipping detailing the death of Cedric Diggory, a faded picture of the boy in his Hogwarts Champion uniform smiling at the camera, unaware of the fate that awaited him at the end. His death, as well as the deaths of Barty Crouch Sr, Igor Karkaroff and the revelation, to some, that Britain's Dark Lord had returned from the dead, made any thoughts of having another competition held in three years moot. The chaos surrounding Britain's second bloody Wizarding Civil War simply killed any interest in international magical competitions between the three schools.

"You know that I will never quite forgive myself for not seeing the dangers that the Second Task's conditions held for you and your sister. As someone of mixed heritage, one would assume that I would be more sensitive to such worries, that I would have seen the danger in putting Veela in not only a Task that already placed them at a disadvantage by bring under water, but one that involved the Merfolk, who still hold great animosity to your kin for some Ancient slight that few but the most learned could even hope to remember. Whilst you and your older sister survived the experience with no true injuries beyond what the Task entailed, it did not absolve me of my mistakes." Gabrielle turned away from the picture frames and smiled at the Headmistress. "I am sure the fireballs my mother threw at you as soon as she requested a private meeting to discuss the event somewhat made up for it, though mother does still complain about your heightened healing trait and giant magical resistance preventing the Veela fire from leaving any permanent scars." The older woman, who despite being seated at her desk still towered over the room, though it was clear that all of the furniture was made with her in mind as she wouldn't have to be constantly bending over for everything, chuckled. "Yes, I can still remember the stunned look she had when my skin wasn't peeling off as she had expected. Regardless, I have done my best to account for Veelas and other magical races when designing any and all coursework or changes to the academy's structure. I do apologize for the fact that we are still unable to safely neutralize the Allure's effects on the wider population, as that would certainly have made the last few years easier for you. Now please, sit."

Feeling the nerves return once more, Gabrielle sat down in the more normal sized chair, the soft cushions at least making her feel somewhat comfortable. The Headmistress, not looking as to having aged much in the last six and a half years, peered over Gabrielle's academic record. "During your OWL examinations, you scored either Acceptable or Exceeds Expectations in the majority of your courses. Afterwards, you elected to drop Potions and Astronomy while still retaining History of Magic, Herbology, Charms, Transfiguration and Defence from the previously mandated courses and also retained the electives Care for Magical Creatures as well as Runes and even took on the NEWT exclusive of Healing. Your last examinations have you with Acceptables in Herbology, Defence and Transfigurations, with Exceeds Expectations in History, Charms, Runes and Healing with your only Outstanding being in Care For Magical Creatures." Lowering the paper, Maxime looked at her student. "Based on your decisions regarding coursework, I don't believe you intend to follow in your father's footsteps, which I am sure gives him some measure of relief." Gabrielle chuckled at that, knowing that her Headmistress was quite right. Fleur's participation in the Order of the Phoenix through her marriage to Bill had already made her father quite irate and Gabrielle had no intention of adding to his worries. Maxime, happy to see her student smiling, pressed on. "I also imagine that you will not be taking after your mother as you decided not to pursue Magical Law for your NEWT elective. At the same time, you don't seem to be interested in a career as a Healer. Tell me Mademoiselle Delacour, what sort of career do you have in mind?"

Gabrielle rubbed her shoulder nervously, the action creasing her Beauxbaton's uniform slightly. "I… I am still undecided. I have been trying to find something that motivates me but I had a difficult time finding it." Maxime looked back at the classes that Gabrielle had taken. "May I ask why you continued to take Defence and why you elected to take Healing? Both courses are, of course, quite important, but without the Potions course, you wouldn't be able to become either an Auror or a Healer." Gabrielle sighed. "I took them less out of a personal interest and more out of the fact of what I am. As a Veela, we remain a "precious commodity" that other, less civilized regions of the world would do anything to obtain. In the Conclaves, we are taught how to defend ourselves from threats but most of our training involves group defences. As a Veela that will be less likely to rely on others for help, I wanted to have the best possible education I could get from Beauxbatons. Unfortunately… I don't really have an aptitude for the course and because of that I have only managed to get by thanks to long hours of studying. It's why I didn't take Potions, as it was clear that I wouldn't be able to become an Auror. The same issue comes up with Healing. I wanted the knowledge necessary for being able to take care of myself and those dear to me, but my nature prevents me or anyone else of my kind from working at a non-Veela clinic or Hospital, where the Allure could cause even more problems. Even as an Auror, while the Allure could at times be useful, it would be a huge detriment to those assigned with me, unless I was lucky enough to find the right partner. Since I wasn't exactly all that good of a Potioneer and I had no chance of pursuing either profession, there was just no need to keep it."

Maxime sighed but nodded. "It would seem you have given your future quite some thought, though you haven't found a solution. Tell me, why then did you keep Herbology? Clearly, you are not able to do well in the class either." Gabrielle blushed in embarrassment. "I… suppose I stayed on course because I didn't want to leave my roommate alone. Adeline loves Herbology, though I don't think she realizes that she doesn't like the whole "managing a resource" aspect of it. I don't like that part either, but when we get to work outdoors in the spring in the small woods that are adjacent to the school and in the gardens… I don't know, I just enjoy it enough that the class becomes tolerable for me." Maxime looked from the academic report to Gabrielle a few times, before something clicked in her head. "Is that why you like Care as well? Because you are outdoors?" Gabrielle thought for a second. "When we manage the Abraxas and other animals outside of the stables, yeah, it's a great time. I actually get to relax quite well." Maxime lowered the paper on her desk and held her hand together on top of her desk. "Mademoiselle Delacour, it would seem that the aspects you like between Herbology and Care, your least enjoyed and most enjoyed courses… are being outside in the open air." Gabrielle blinked her eyes. "Well, I suppose you are right. Outside of the Conclaves, we don't really get to be out in the open." Maxime gave the girl a bittersweet smile. "No, I don't suppose you do. Odd that you didn't try out for the Quidditch team."

Gabrielle shuddered. "Don't get me wrong, I love to fly on a broom, but not enough to spend months at a time dodging bludgers. Broom racing just doesn't have that much of an appeal to me either." Maxime sat back in her chair. "Then, would you be interested in seeing if a profession in Care for Magical Creatures is something you would like to pursue? I can ask Professor d'Este to bring you along during his regular duties to the stables and pens and see if you enjoy caring for the creatures we have here. If you think you might like it, we could offer you an apprenticeship or, at the very least, an internship with the Care Department." Thinking back on her time in the Care for Magical Creatures courses, she could say that she enjoyed much of her time meeting all the interesting creatures of the magical world, though she wasn't sure of the idea of being a Handler or a Carer. That said, the Headmistress was right that the best way for her to know for sure would be actually giving it a try. "If Professor d'Este is fine with the extra responsibility, I have no objections to helping him out with the animals here and seeing how I feel about the profession." Maxime took her fountain pen and jotted down a few notes, both on the academic report as well as on a seperate piece of paper. "I will let Estous know as soon as I see him. Beyond that, I hope you understand that there is nothing wrong with being unsure as to what you wish to be doing with your life. Sometimes you even end up doing jobs that aren't to your liking, but they can eventually lead you to your true calling. I had no intention of being a Charms professor for all my life, but my few years on the role allowed me to be named Deputy and then Headmistress, a position I do not wish to step aside for."

Nodding in understanding, Gabrielle stood up from her chair, taking a moment to smoothing down her uniform before picking up her book bag and bowing to the Headmistress. "Thank you, Madame Maxime, for your time. Have a good day." The half-giantess waved at Gabrielle. "And a good day to you, Mademoiselle Delacour. Do let your mother know that she is always welcome to drop by for a spot of tea." Gabrielle smiled. "I am sure she would love to take up your offer, but father was mad at her for the fireball incident and with Victoire being home, she is a bit busy." Maxime nodded. "The offer is available all the same." As Gabrielle closed the door, she sighed, feeling the tension leaving her body, before walking down the hallway. As she neared her dorm room, she stopped by the nearest window that looked out into the gardens, the white mountain peaks reaching up towards the overcast sky. A few weeks prior, during one of her classes, she had felt the bond between her and Harry flare up again, meaning that he had been nearby to the academy. She had tried to see if anyone had arrived at the school during the brief moment that she had sensed him, but no one had dropped by. Word was that there were attempts to make a small community similar to Hogwarts' Hogsmeade in a nearby recess of the mountain and that there were workers already there getting the work started. Had Harry been there as a worker or just passing by to get a glimpse at Beauxbatons? Gabrielle wasn't sure but she hoped that Harry had sensed her this time. At the very least, the fact that this was the second time they had almost crossed paths meant that there was a greater chance for them to meet one day.

But what would he see when they finally met? Here she was, almost eighteen years old and still she was unsure of what she wanted from her life. As much as Gabrielle wanted to meet him and for the two of them to discover what this bond between them could mean for each other, she didn't just want to be an arm ornament for him. She wanted to be able to stand up on her own two feet, to bring something more to the relationship other than the fact that she was just a Veela who happened to get bonded to him that fateful day on the lake. Taking a deep breath, Gabrielle turned away from the window and back towards her room. After greeting Adeline, she took out her Care for Magical Creatures book and began to prepare for her upcoming exam, pushing the immature thoughts she had about Harry out of her mind for what she hoped would be the rest of the day. Whilst deeply focused on the essay she was writing for the upcoming Defence class, she felt something odd. It wasn't the bond persay, but she felt like someone was looking at her. Sweeping the room with her eyes, she found everything to be just the way as she and Adeline tended to leave it, with a quick scan of the room with her wand revealing nothing else was there. Adeline, who had been busy with her own assignments, had turned to look at her friend as soon as she felt her sweeping the room for anything that shouldn't have been there. "Everything ok?" Gabrielle did one last sweep and got nothing, before slipping her wand back into its holster, the feeling of being watched having disappeared. "Yeah, everything's fine. Guess I was just imagining things."

Londinium District, Early Winter 1998

"Easy, Mr Potter. A little more to the right. Yes, that's right. Now move it all the way down to the floor whilst following the outside of the mark on the stone." Harry bit his lip as he kept his wand trained on the stone before him, sustaining a stone cutting charm for longer than it was intended. As his time in the mines grew, so too had his magical output, meaning that he was cutting more stone than anyone else. Whilst this had bothered some of the experienced Goblins, his forewoman Lethlot hadn't ignored him as a resource. When the miners discovered a large vein of marble, Harry had been pulled aside and given special directions. With the value of marble remaining higher than that of standard stone or granite, the Goblins were eager to get more out of the vein than they typically could with the limitations of their own workforce. In this case, they had gone through the trouble of marking the marble wall for Harry to carve into with his wand. Following the outline as much as possible without cutting through it, the young Potter Heir managed to reach the stone floor, before being instructed to cut through the lower end. By the time he was done, all that was left was to lift the massive chunk of marble. The Goblins, quite concerned with not damaging the solid block, applied Futhark Runes to the outer surface with paint, the symbols designed to strengthen the block to prevent it from getting damaged during transport, as well as to lower its weight. The expert handlers for the quarry then used their own wandless levitation magic, lifting the massive block off the ground and gently moving it towards the center of the quarry, where other Handlers were waiting to apply more sigils onto it.

"Lethlot, I say that you are certainly getting quite the use out of Mr Potter's exceptional talent with his wand." The forwoman was spooked as the voice of the viceroy echoed in the massive chamber, before turning around and bowing as Ragnar approached the massive block of marble, with Golstrud walking at his side, followed by a small contingent of guards. "My apologies if I overstepped myself, Viceroy, but when this massive vein of marble was found…" Ragnar nodded. "There have been quite a few projects that have been stalled amongst the master craftsmen for not having an appropriately sized solid block of marble and, while the old rules of stacking separate blocks still apply, the very idea of doing the impossible remains quite the temptation. Isn't that right, Handlers?" The group of Goblins, who had gently placed the block onto the ground grew nervous under the Viceroy's attention, before a smile appeared on his face. "None of you need to worry, as I myself am quite fond of trying to surpass the exemplary work of the other Goblin Nation Districts. The sculpting of this block alone will make us the envy of the other communities, though we best make sure that any work we undertake we are able to surpass should the King himself request a duplicate be made in the Capital." Ragnar's words seemed to have lit quite the fire in the Handler's hearts as they eagerly turned their attention to the block, as they sought to shrink it in order to have it go up the lift to be brought up to the Artisan's workstation.

The Viceroy then turned his attention to the wizard in the Quarry. "That will unfortunately include you as well, Mr Potter." Harry bowed his head softly. "If it occurs during my service to the Goblin Nation, then I would be honoured to fulfill my responsibility. If the request should come afterwards, I would be more than happy to be of service to such fine craftsmen." Ragnar chuckled to himself. "Well said, Mr Potter. Now then, while I am impressed by what has been carved from the ground on this fine day, I made my way down here because Dredhook communicated to us that you desire to be trained in melee weapons combat. May I ask why?" Harry looked towards the miners as they each carried on their duties for the day. "Because the Arena Trials weren't something that was designed to be used exclusively for foreigners that ran afoul of Gringotts laws. If it was specifically designed for Goblins in their path to achieve certain rights and privileges, then it makes sense that a proper challenger needs to be trained in both the use of magic and melee weapons. A good example of that would be my own first trial, which might have gone a bit more smoothly if I had a piercing weapon that could break through the Wyrm carapace, rather than improvising with a Wyrm tooth. When you gave me the option to earn my freedom as an Arena combatant, I accepted it with the intention to do my best in every Task and I cannot do that if I am knowingly hampering my progress by not learning the necessary skills. As such, I humbly ask to be allowed to learn melee combat and to be able to either borrow a weapon, order one to be made or purchase one, either with the payment I receive as a Miner or from the amount still available in my family's vaults."

Harry's request and explanation seemed to have left the Viceroy with much to ponder as he fell into quiet contemplation. "We do have weapons that can be borrowed by those taking on the Arena Trials, as well as armour, though the choice of what weapon you wish to specialize in lies with you. As for actually having our weaponsmith's craft you a personalized weapon, that is a privilege awarded to those who complete seven of the Twelve Tasks. They will explain to you the process and the matter of ownership if you arrive at that stage. As for training…" Golstrud stepped forward. "Dredhook, to my knowledge, served as a combat specialist prior to his reassignment after his brother's betrayal. He could carry out the training himself." Ragnar looked at Golstrud before turning to look at Harry. "He may be a former specialist, but he is no Weaponsmaster. With whom would you like to receive your training?" Harry thought for a moment. "With all due respect to Gringotts Londinium's Weaponsmaster, I wish to be trained by Dredhook, as we have so far reached a degree of mutual respect. For his taking on the responsibility of hosting me during the time I am repaying my debt, I would be honoured to be trained by him in the art of war." Ragnar nodded. "Very well. Golstrud, please inform Dredhook of his new duties and have the necessary equipment sent to their abode. I look forward to seeing you in the next Arena Trial, Mr Potter." Harry bowed his head as both Ragnar and Golstrud made their way towards the lifts, with Lethlot walking up to him. "Dredhook will be quite pleased with the request. He, like many Goblins, enjoys melee combat. Do try to be a good student and remember, your quotas will not change unless it is necessary for your recovery, so don't tire yourself too much."

After completing his quota in the mines for the day, Harry eventually made his way back to the alcove where Dredhook and his neighbors lived, noticing as he arrived in the narrow street that Dredhook was setting up practice dummies in the front yard of his home. When he sensed Harry's presence, he turned around, a smile growing on his face. "I must admit, your decision to pick me over the Weaponsmaster may come back to haunt you, Mr Potter, Wyrm Slayer. Still, I am quite happy with this particular assignment. A pick and a minecart are fine tools but for me there is no better feeling than a weapon in your hand." He gestured towards a table he had set out next to his home's front door. "Speaking of weapons, you may take your pick from those. They are quite resilient tools but nothing that can truly compare to a personalized weapon." Looking over the options laid out, Harry noticed a similar weapon to Godric Gryffindor's Sword. As he took it in his hands, he noticed just how… small it was. Clearly, there was some truth to the fact that the sword was made for a Goblin's height, but Harry wouldn't pry into what was a sore subject for Gringotts Londinium. Feeling comfortable with a sword, Harry found himself gravitating to a longer and heavier blade, something that felt more in keeping with his size. He did take a short knife as well, with Dredhook's face sporting a smile. "A wise decision with the knife. A sword serves a warrior well in many combat scenarios, but a knife can be used far more swiftly. Now then, step over here and look at the pieces of armour. Few of these will protect you from the really dangerous beasts, but they will do well against scrapes and cuts so some armour is recommended." Once kitted out, Dredhook had him stand before the training dummy and taught him the poses and the ways to hold the weapon that would best serve him, lessons that would prove crucial to the young man in the years to come.

Peverell Estate, Spring 2005

As the cool morning breeze of a spring day batted against Elysia's face, her eyes were focused forward, her senses heightened as she swung her training sword whilst performing her early day exercises in the gardens of the estate. With the cold winter days mostly behind them, spring in France had allowed her the chance to exercise outside, having to perform most of her training regime indoors for the last few weeks. Not that the interior of her home wasn't pleasant to be in. The Goblins had been paid handsomely to improve upon the existing stone and woodwork that had not seen renovations since before the end of the Hundred Year's War, when the family's last living Heirs had died, the descendants not bothering to claim the old lands that were now surrounded by French territory for themselves. Fortunately for Elysia, the lands had been protected from being claimed by the French Magical Aristocracy by the lingering fear that remained amongst their kin concerning the Peverells and their prowess against other Magicals. The land Estate was therefore left in stasis, abandoned by everyone but Gringotts Parision, who had kept the deed of the property in the hope that some distant descendant could claim it. It certainly paid off for them, as the property, while not in ruins, needed to be brought up to modern standards, with Elysia having to delegate what rooms saw improvements first. Much of the basement, the master bedroom and its adjoining office, the kitchen and the bathrooms were all her first priority, but the other rooms had been left very much as they had been in the 13th century. One such space had been the room next to her own, which became her dedicated training room during the winters.

With the recent Wyrm extermination and the meat surplus, however, Elysia had earned plenty of money, more than enough to actually put to use. Some of it went to repay the Gringotts Parision High Risk Investment Fund, so that any earnings from her new potion royalties would be more profitable for her right from the start, but some of the funds were also used to have more rooms of the Estate improved to her specifications. Having thought about the possibility of having the Chabornneau women over as guests for some holidays, she had relented and ordered the opening of two of the guest bedrooms for improvement, as well as two of the upstairs family suites and one of the sitting rooms. Once those rooms were updated, the new furniture would be brought in and Elysia would leave it at that. The only last change she had made to the house was in the room where she had been training during the winters. While the wards had made it comfortable to exercise in there and magic made cleanup easy, Elysia just felt… uncomfortable leaving the room so bare. Hence why she was currently exercising outside, whilst the Goblins installed wooden panels, large mirrors and other basic necessities before the room was made into a legitimate exercise chamber. Not that she minded working out outside. In fact, ever since the end of her five years worth of service to the Goblin Nation, she had prefered spending her days out under the blue sky. The weather in the northern part of the French Region of Occitania was certainly more pleasant than her summers in Surrey and, unlike the suburban area where she had been detained, the forests around her were a model of the peace and quiet she longed for. Not that there weren't any neighbors around, they just didn't happen to be humans.

Once done with practicing her swings, she took a moment to clean her face up with a cool wet towel that she kept around her neck, before conjuring a training dummy, one of only a few conjurations she learned, besides cups, chairs, blankets and knives. The latter had been at Dredhook's insistence, as he felt that as either a cook, a potioneer or as a warrior, she would always need a knife at a moment's notice. Harry hadn't been able to refute that claim and had learned to conjure very sharp blades, though if and when Elysia ever was to encounter a beast, she always made sure to carry a proper knife, just in case the creatures were spell resistant enough that the conjured blades would vanish on contact. Taking a moment to stretch, Elysia quickly took an attack stance before striking, using her sword to slice and stab at the dummy, always keeping in the movements needed to quickly parry any possible counter attack, just as Dredhook had taught her. As her main focus remained fixated on the dummy, she was only marginally aware that she was being watched. From the closest treeline a bunch of fairies flitted about, their position in the air shifting when a stronger wind pushed through the trees. Beneath them and along the ground were several of free elves, or brownies as Elysia had learned to call them, all watching her training until Ida apparated close to her, making the observers flee in hushed tones and giggles. Ida glared at them briefly before approaching her mistress, lifting up a metal bottle up to her. "The clocks have struck 11:50, Mistress. You asked that I inform you so that you could reach the cauldrons in time."

Elysia smiled at her friend, taking the water bottle from her outstretched hand. "Thank you Ida." After drinking a few deep gulps of the ice cold water, Elysia dumped some of it on her head, sighing in relief, before using the towel to remove the excess water from her face. "Ah, that hits the spot. Will you walk with me?" Ida bobbed her head before following along with her mistress. As Elysia rubbed the towel on her now wet hair, she checked in with her house elf. "So, how is construction going?" Ida grumbled. "Goblins say they will be done with the second floor renovations by the time they leave before dinner tonight. They will then return tomorrow to finish the first floor rooms." Elysia looked at the young elf. "The fact that the rooms will be refurbished will mean that they will be free for you to clean from time to time, Ida, unless you are complaining about the Goblins not fulfilling their duties quickly. Did my three terrors disrupt their work?" Ida shook her head. "No Lady Peverell, your companions remained restrained in their interactions as you ordered them to. Macha and Badb were constantly observing them whilst Anand simply returned to your room and laid down to sleep. If anything, the Goblins were respectful of your pets, never once disrupting their position in the room." Elysia shook her head. "Of course they would. Macha will be beaming with pride for the next few days. Hopefully that will get her to relax. So, what's for lunch?" The two of them entered the Peverell household as Ida described the latest recipes she had read from the library with Elysia carefully picking which food they could have for the day, rejoicing in the young elf's excitement. While she loved cooking and would always prepare her weekend meals, much to Ida's disappointment, she didn't mind being pampered by the excited elf, even if she reminded her of an old friend she had to bury after he saved her life.

As they approached the Lab door, Ida moved to stand before her mistress. "Lady Peverell is crying! Did I say something to offend you, were Ida's food choices improper?" Elysia blinked at her for a moment before taking the towel to clean up her tears. "No Ida. You are just being your lovable self and the food options are all wonderful. Your excitement just reminded me of an old friend, the free elf I mentioned to you who had wanted to help and serve me before he saved my life and the lives of others at the expense of his own." Ida, who had been moving her hands nervously scrunched up her green dress. "Free Elf Dobby was a fine Elf who would be very happy to see his Mistress happy and free. Ida is honoured to care for Lady Peverell in his stead. Will Mistress want to eat in the kitchen or her suite sitting room for lunch?" Elysia, once more in control of her emotions, smiled at the young elf. "The kitchens so that you can prepare the dinner dishes and I can give you my thoughts on the taste of everything. I would offer some food for the Goblins but I know they are not overly fond of it. Do see if any of the wine from a thousand years ago is to their taste. Fueruk tried one and said that it had a fine taste for his kin's palette." Ida nodded with her head. "As the Mistress wishes. Lunch will be ready soon. Ida will remind Mistress that she should bathe after finishing her Potions work." With the elf having popped away, Ida shook her head before taking one of the full body jumpsuits and slipping into it, ready to get the next batch of potions one step closer to a trial run, before eventually making her way up to join Ida in the kitchen for a pleasant meal.

Chapter 6: A Line in the Sand

Placing her pen in her mouth, Elysia used the steel tongs to pick up a dry leaf, before raising it over one of the three small cauldrons in front of her. While she usually prepared potions in large cauldrons to have a decent supply for retail, the batches in front of her were made with the new ingredients she had requested from Gringotts. Each of the cauldrons in front of her had a different dosage of the new base ingredient she was testing. Most healing potions of the day tended to include the use of Dittany in their ingredients lists, but most suppliers only adjusted the amount grown during times of conflict. This meant that during times of relative peace, the plant was typically grown to supply hospitals, clinics and apothecaries. Throw a war into the mix and the supply of the potion would suddenly drop, with the price skyrocketing as a result. Even if they managed to grow more of the plant, there needed to be strict care for it, due to the volatility of its oils, which were quite flammable. While the plant was also relatively common in Asia, it had a small range where it typically grew in Southern Europe and North Africa. Combining that with a massive international market and you ran into the typical supply shortage, as the continuing conflicts in the Middle East and the flare ups in Africa and South America, the world simply wasn't in a state where magicals could afford not having healing potions. Sure, these conflicts were between non-magical governments, but bombings, terrorist attacks and open war didn't care if you were magical or not. Death found you regardless if you had magic or not.

So, rather than letting the prices continue to spiral out of control as the British Ministry and other magical communities stockpiled Healing Potions, Elysia had been testing a few new mixtures using plants from other continents. The three batches in front of her were made with Emu Bush from Australia, a relatively common plant and one easy enough to raise with a low water intake. She had already tested a few other batches of other materials, most causing the dry leaves to burn up or turn to dust. The first batch of the Emu Bush variant hadn't damaged the leaf and had shown some improvement, meaning she had needed to tinker with the dosage. Adding three dead leaves into the new batches, she watched as all displayed a higher degree of magical repair, though the latter one seemed sluggish. Writing down her results, she emptied the cauldrons into vials, labeled them according to the amount of plant material that had been added, before storing them away. She then entered another of her isolated brewing stations, using the amount of plant matter that had the most effective response in the previous trial, before changing the concentration of the other ingredients, these batches adjusting the amount of unicorn hair needed. She would test the concentration of bubotuber pus and wormwood after she determined how the unicorn hair reacted with the Emu Bush. As soon as the ingredients were properly washed, dried, rendered and added to the cauldrons, Elysia stirred the cauldron's contents with her mixing rod, keeping careful control over the amount of magic that leaked out.

When Harry had first stepped into the Potions classroom, he had been ecstatic to get started with the class. Having spent years of his life cooking for the ungrateful Dursleys, he had actually come to enjoy the process itself, even if the pleasant aromas only produced more agony for him as the meals he prepared were denied to him, unless he was lucky enough to get leftovers. With Vernon and Dudley eating, that was hardly ever. Still, there had been something calming and very satisfying about preparing one's own meal, which was why he had fought hard with Hermione over being the primary cook during their hunt for Voldemort's Horcruxes, as it was a time he desperately needed every possible means of relaxing to ease his troubled mind. Sadly, during Harry's six years at Hogwarts, it had only been during his sixth that he had been able to actually enjoy brewing, with or without Snape's annotated book, which, sure it was a cheat, but considering Snape robbed him of the opportunity to enjoy Potions class, he felt that he had deserved that book's help and then some. Still, the instructions Snape adjusted did make him think a great deal as to how potions worked and his later experimentations with brewing his own healing potions helped him get a better understanding of what was happening. Sure, from an academic perspective, waiting till certain materials were permanently altered to a more beneficial state was paramount in potioneering. It was how one managed to reduce the toxicity of an ingredient to nothing, after all. What had initially stumped her, however, had been the stupid stirring rod directions. Why did it matter what direction a mixture was stirred? There was no perceivable effect the act of mixing in one direction or another would have on a mixture at all and, without other elements, it had no value other than as a purely ritualistic purpose, particularly if it could be altered successfully as Snape had done in his notes.

If there was a singular reason for which Harry had been glad in regards to Snape's behaviour towards him for the six long years, ignoring his assistance in the final months of the war because to some degree that was still Snape following Dumbledore's orders, rather than an act of kindness born from his own motivations, it had been the fact that he hadn't given Harry the typical instruction his Slytherin students got. He would have been just as uninterested in the why of how potions need to stirred as everyone else. By not knowing and being frustrated with the seemingly irrational thought processes that went with the practice resulted in him eventually coming to a realization, that it wasn't the direction of the stirring that mattered at all, at least not if you knew what you were doing, because the very act of stirring was no different than the wand movements of spells. Sure, they made learning the spells easier, but they were purely there to help concentrate and produce the necessary magical output a spell required. A gifted enough caster could bypass the motions and simply produce the right amount of magic needed for the spell to work, so it made sense to Harry to do the same for potions and the stirring requirements. Ever since that discovery, and a lot of work cleaning all of the equipment thoroughly every time she brewed a new batch, Elysia never had to worry about stirring directions, only bothering to find them for when she needed to submit a potion recipe to Gringotts to have it certified and registered. She could just allow her magic to flow into the Potions until she felt it beginning to affect the contents, before cutting off the flow.

With all of her test cauldrons reaching their desired state, Elysia checked her larger cauldrons, removing those needing to be cooled, registering everything in her notes so as to not miss any part of the process due to clumsiness, before writing down the time and when the next intervention would be needed. Once all of the cauldron work was done, she took several of the vials that were stocked from her experiments in finding alternative healing potions, before entering the one section of her basement that was very much in keeping with their original purpose. While it no longer served as a dungeon for humans, her testing lab was filled with several cages of white mice. Elysia would have wanted to test her potions on conjured creatures, but getting their biological processes to match the real deal required a mastery of living conjuration she simply lacked. Fortunately for her and unfortunately for the mice, the non-magical medical field followed similar processes, so buying a bunch of mice for experimentation, or even the feeding of snakes and other predators, was relatively easy and cheap and wouldn't make anyone suspicious of her at all. Sure, Elysia could theoretically pick sets of mating pairs and breed the mice in her own lab… but she really struggled enough with the morality of what she was doing as it was. She had no problem killing pests or vermin, but that didn't mean she was unnecessarily cruel. Sadly, her work needed a measure of cold detachment, as she used a scalpel to cut gashes into the mice, as using her wand would only irritate Macha, as the wand wanted to kill, not wound. Dipping in a cotton swab into the potion vial, Elysia waited as the potion did its job, the wound sealing back up once more after pressing the wet swab onto the injury.

The muted mouse went through several more cuts and applications of potions as Elysia noted the time it took for the wounds to heal based on their length or depth, as well as noting any behavioural changes on the mouse. Once all her test batches were evaluated on a living creature and all the notations made, she placed Macha on the table, where the wand took on her feline form, the cat stretching out as if it just woke up from a nap. Elysia ran her hand along her back, before noticing Macha's focused gaze, sighing to herself. "Fine… just… don't make a mess." Placing the mouse on the floor, the chase was on as soon as Elysia pulled her hand away, with Macha following wherever it ran, the room thankfully having been designed so that the creatures would have nowhere to hide or escape through. The raven haired Potions Master didn't enjoy the less glamorous side of Potions Research and she took no pleasure in harming the creatures, but she wasn't cruel enough to deny Macha her nature. She was an instrument of death and she wouldn't be satisfied until her purpose was fulfilled. The moment the now unsilenced mouse made its last screech, Elysia knew it was over. She allowed Macha to have her fill of her kill, knowing that Ida would clean up the remains and use them for fertilizer in the gardens, while she fed the rest of the still living mice. She was glad she wasn't always researching new potions, which meant that she didn't need to do this unpleasant task for much of the year. As Elysia went for the door, a satisfied looking Macha rubbed up against her jumpsuit covered legs, making the witch feel a bit more at ease. Macha, Anand and Badb were her responsibilities and she would make sure they all had as fulfilling a life as they could… within the bounds of what she was comfortable with, at the very least.

"Gabrielle, looks like you have mail today." The young blonde looked up from her plate of scrambled eggs and watched as Marrat made his way towards her, expertly avoiding the other owls as they too made their morning mail deliveries. The Main Dining Hall of the Beaxbaton's Academy was similar to the Great Hall at Hogwarts, though only in its grand scale. The room itself served several functions throughout the year, from the place where the students and staff regularly had their meals, to the ballroom where the students gathered to dance during the Samhain and Yuletide Celebrations. While the other ancient and modern religious holidays were either observed or at the very least respected, the Academy had been built to celebrate these two dates specifically. During Samhain, the students would gather for a grand Masquerade Ball, where the more advanced practitioners would use Transfiguration or Illusionary Charms to perfectly conceal their identities, at least from first glance. On this evening, those disguised would be allowed to change their behaviour, so long as it adhered to the rules of conduct, and interact with others that ordinarily they would never associate with due to concerns over race, gender, academic performance or family backgrounds. On that evening, they were able to put aside their social inhibitions and just interact freely with others. Many students swear that the Samhain Balls is how they discovered that their sexual preferences weren't as set in stone as they once thought, with those who really enjoyed each other's company eventualy revealing their identities to each other so that they could live these new discoveries about themselves beyond that one special night.

The Yuletide Ball was the exact opposite, as you had to attend as yourself. Fortunately, for those who were born with less affluent families, the attendants could request clothes made by the Threadweaving Class at Beauxbatons, the dresses and suits being their term examinations, with the Enchantment and Transfiguration departments being in charge of the accessories. It made every single Yuletide Ball unique, as the students would either tailor their dresses to a specific recipient or have them match the modern fashions of either magical or non-magical world. For most of the year, however, the Main Hall was littered with circular tables with menus from which the students could pick their meal, with the kitchens already having most of them made and placed in stasis until an order came up. For students with eating restrictions due to allergies or religious abstinence, special meals were prepared that would be specific to their needs, so as to ensure that everyone left the Main Hall satisfied. During the Balls, the menus were changed to reflect the festivity, with the tables organized into concentric circles, allowing those interested in dance to do so in the middle of the Hall. The decorations would be designed to match the festivities, with the usual arrangement for the Hall being in warm golden colors, the chandeliers overhead shining in bright yellow hues. During the day, however, the shutters on the windows that flanked the Main Hall on both sides of the building were left open, allowing for the natural sunlight to illuminate the entire area.

Of course, while the Main Hall and its various functions were made to make it easier for a variety of people to enjoy their time there in the company of their peers, not everyone would be able to enjoy it throughout their time at the Academy. Gabrielle, being a Veela, meant that she wasn't able to eat her meals at the Main Hall when her control over her Allure wasn't where it needed to be, resulting in her having to eat her meals at her dorm room throughout much of her time at Beauxbatons. It was during her sixth year that she had finally gotten enough control over the Allure that she was able to eat at the Main Hall with Adeline at her side, though her roommate was kind enough to forgo eating at the Hall when they had started their friendship. This also meant that Gabrielle hadn't been able to partake in either of the Balls, as she couldn't exactly conceal her appearance, even if she drank Polyjuice Potion. The Allure would still make it quite clear just who she was, so unlike everyone else during Samhain, she was never really able to just be another person in the crowd. Even during the Yuletide Ball, where everyone was there to show off the new designs, her presence would instantly skew the reviews of any of the other participants. Even after she had gotten her Allure under control, she had refrained from participating in them at all, as her control over the Allure would prevent her from actually being able to enjoy the evening to its fullest. It was better to let everyone else enjoy their evenings than for her control to slip and ruin it all for everyone, though that didn't mean that her self isolation didn't cause her any resentments towards herself. She would always be proud of having been born a Veela, but that didn't mean there weren't days that weren't a struggle for her. She was sure both her mother and Fleur had gone through the same when they had studied at the Academy.

Today, though, she had her Allure under control and had sat down with Adeline and a few of the other apprentices and interns of the school, as both of them were curious as to what it was like to be at the academy post graduation. Of course, those apprentices who were to go on the research expeditions that Professor Persaud had told Adeline about had already left for South America, so she could only get information from those that had gone before and had elected to stay behind this year, while Gabrielle heard about what it took to be a minder under Professor d'Este, when Marrat announced his arrival. The owl landed gently on the table next to Gabrielle, shrieking at her with his high pitched voice as it presented its leg to her. Taking the letter attached to his leg, Gabrielle presented Marrat with some of her food, the bird happily devouring a few chunks of sausage before taking flight once more, heading, like all the others, for the opening in the roof that allow the owls to make their way outside safely, without letting the bitter cold enter the Main Hall during winter. Taking a drink from her glass of orange juice, Gabrielle looked over the envelope, noticing that it was a letter penned by her mother. Using the letter openers that were left on every table at the Main Hall during breakfast, she broke the seal and began to read it to herself. A bittersweet smile appeared on her face, which made Adeline curious. "What's it say?" Gabrielle sighed. "My sister's husband has finally agreed to the divorce and will be arriving in Paris in a few days for the custody hearing of their daughter."

Adeline turned her attention to her plate. "Oh." Her friend's clipped response made Gabrielle look at her with concern. Having been roommates for over three years, she had been there the day that Adeline's parents had let her know about their divorce but she hardly ever talked about it, even with Gabrielle. The dark skinned Beauxbaton student spent the rest of the meal in silence, as well as the next few classes, not being as interested in raising her hand, neither offering answers nor asking questions, with the professors noticing her dour mood. Gabrielle wanted to talk to her but knew that Adeline wouldn't open up until they were in a private setting, and only when she was ready. So it was a surprise for her when Adeline spoke up first as soon as their dorm room door was closed. "At first… I thought that my parent's divorce came out of nowhere. It was very confusing since they always seemed so happy around me. It took me so long to realize that they were just pretending to get along for my sake. I remember… hearing them arguing a few times during the night when they thought I was asleep, or how uncomfortable they tended to be when I returned home after I was out with my friends back home during the summers. When they told me that they were getting divorced… I didn't quite understand why they were doing it and I was already a teenager. I can't imagine what your niece is going through, being almost five, not understanding why her dad won't be with her mom anymore."

Gabrielle took off her uniform before slipping into a more comfortable t-shirt, unhooking her bra before removing it from underneath her shirt. "I spent quite a few days looking after Victoire whilst my sister was busy. She seemed fine but it was hard… not being able to tell her why her papa wouldn't be visiting any time soon." Adeline sat down, having changed into more comfortable clothes as well, her uniform held in her hands. "It won't be easy for her and that's not even taking into account that she is a Veela. She… she is going to need a lot of help from you all, to get used to not seeing her father at all and not understanding why that is. I was eventually able to understand but it took me so long to just get past the pain that their divorce made me go through before I could see my father's flaws and my mother's own depression. All she will know is that she misses how things were and no one wants to do anything to get them back to how she thinks they should be." Gabrielle sat down next to her friend and wrapped her arm around her waist, pulling her into a side hug. "Even now, it still hurts, doesn't it?" Adeline was quiet for a moment. "Somewhat. I miss the days when I could walk into the house and see them actually being happy, not pretending to be. At the same time, my mother is happier now and my father… is just like he always was. While there are moments that I miss what we all had… I can't deny that they are better off divorced. It just takes time to get to the point where you realize it, and a little longer… to embrace it." Gabrielle rubbed her friend's side as much as she could, realizing now that even when the papers are signed and custody is determined, the consequences of the divorce will still be carried by Victoire and Fleur for quite a bit more time.

"Please, take your seats. I won't be taking much more of everyone's time." At the judge's insistence, the gathered parties took their seats, with François and Apolline sitting on either side of their daughter, who looked visibly exhausted. The last few days, the Delacour and Weasley families had been meeting at the French Ministry of Magic, in one of the court chambers reserved exclusively for use by the International Confederation of Wizards judges that were dispatched to settle matters of international proportions. As William Weasley and Fleur Delacour were not nationals of one single country, the ICW had been called to send a judge to settle the custody trial over Victoire Weasley, who was currently being looked after by her cousins at the Dumont Veela Conclave whilst Gabrielle was at Hogwarts and the three other Delacours were in session. The Weasleys had requested to watch the girl but the request had been denied by the judge. Of the Weasley clan, four were in attendance, with Percy Weasley acting as the family's legal representative, whilst William sat back with his parents, Molly Weasley née Prewett spending many of the sessions glaring daggers across the courtroom at the Delacours. Apolline, as ever, held an air of elegance and restraint that wouldn't have looked out of place on anyone familiar with her work in the Magical Convention. As the Dumont Representative and often the Veela Conclaves' leading figure, she had perfected her control over her emotions to a degree that often bothered her husband, who was the only person able to get her to soften up besides her daughters and grandchild.

The judge, a witch with an American accent, wearing the black vestments typical of an ICW judge, sighed from her elevated seat. "Custody cases involving children are never easy, nor should they be, particularly in a child so young as is Victoire Weasley née Delacour. The last few days reviewing the facts, memorial vials, character depositions and the laws of both countries have been long and arduous and I will apologize for both parties for putting you all through so much, but the reasoning behind the expediency of this case's hearings should be obvious. We have a soon to be six year old child who will have their lives irrevocably changed and as the presiding judge it is my duty to make the most sensible decision." The woman with shoulder length golden brown hair looked towards the Weasleys. "Whilst British Magical law does indeed give precedence to the paternal magical family regarding custody of the child and the current Heads of the Family, with both Arthur and Molly Weasley remaining in good health and standing within the British Community, I am afraid to say that the old laws regarding Magical Families have no leverage before the ICW. And whilst the aforementioned heads of the family may be able to care for the child, the individual who should be the primary parental figure has shown repeatedly that he would place his career above the wellbeing of his family, his former wife and his daughter. William Weasley, whilst you may in fact be a fine Curse Breaker under tentative employment of Gringotts, none of your colleagues nor your contacts, barring your biased parents, considered you a valid father figure." The red head with scars across his face lowered his face as Molly stood up. "Your Honor, that is-"

With but a wave of her hand, the judge silenced Molly Weasley. "Legal Counsel Weasley, please have your client restrain herself. Another outburst like that and she will be removed from this chamber and fined." As Percy activated a privacy screen within his family's booth, the judge then turned to look at the Delacours. "The laws of Magical France are more in keeping with the ICWs and therefore there was no concern over conflicting factors here. As reviewed by this court, Fleur Delacour was the fundamental caretaker and provider for the infant during their time in their previous abode. Correspondence showed Miss Delacour attempted several times to impart upon William Weasley that his presence was required with his daughter and at every time, the Curse Breaker placed his career over family. Reviewing the current employment of the two parties also makes it clear that Fleur Delacour has sacrificed a more lucrative position in favor of a more reasonable workload, so as to spend sufficient time with her daughter on a daily basis. Lastly…" the Judge took out a document from before her desk, before fixing her eyes on the Weasleys, who had managed to restrain Molly's temper for the moment as Percy had lowered the privacy ward. "There is the matter of Victoire being a Veela." Percy raised his hand. "Ma'am, I hereby object to Victoire's magical creature ancestry being used as a deciding factor. She is one-eighth Veela and therefore…" The judge struck down her gavel. "Objection overruled. Whilst in Britain, a Veela's distance from their ancestry in the Conclaves may indicate they are not Magical Creatures under British Law, the ICW has always recognized the truth that all daughter's born to any Veela have a high chance of being one. The medical examination requested by the court prior to the proceedings confirmed her status as an immature Veela, hence why we determined that she was in safe hands at the Dumont Conclave until the Custody Hearings were concluded."

Holding out the piece of paper, the judge tapped it with her hand. "Legal Counsel Weasley, I hold in my hand the laws pertaining to Veela within Wizarding Britain. Do I have to go over what they state?" Percy raised his voice. "Your honor, the law regarding the treatment of Magical Beings and Half-breeds being second class citizens in Britain have all been revoked." The judge raised an eyebrow. "Please do not insult my intelligence, Counsel Weasley. The enforcement of said laws was rescinded by decree of the Minister for Magic and the other Decrees passed by his predecessors were rendered ineffective. That said, the law I read remains the official law of Magical Britain until the Wizengamot passes legislation overriding it. That means that, while officially, neither a business with public services nor the Ministry may infringe upon their rights as citizens or as sentient beings, there are also no protections in place to safeguard Veelas against discrimination. Should Minister Schaklebolt retire, any of his successors could easily reverse course. Compounded by the fact that your family is in no way capable nor trained to handle a Veela during their very delicate maturing years, this leaves you with no true standing in the request for custody. The Delacour family has already successfully raised two Veela daughters to maturity and they have the backing of the Dumont Conclave, meaning that Victoire will have full access to the support she needs to mature into a stable young woman. As such, it is this court's decision that full custody of Victoire Weasley née Delacour's will be held by her mother, Fleur Delacour."

Turning back to the Weasley's after issuing her declaration to the Delacours, she elaborated. "William Weasley and his family will, however, retain visitation rights, though Miss Delacour may indicate to the Ministry when these would be inappropriate due to an immature Veela's Allure precluding any safe visitations. However, the Weasley family cannot be placed in charge of the girl's care without Miss Delacour being present nor without giving a signed authorization notice. Any attempt to force the girl to travel across international borders without authorizations will void any visitation or custody rights that the Weasley family may yet enjoy. Am I understood, Counsel Weasley?" Percy swallowed under the glare from the judge. "Perfectly, your Honor." The witch made direct eye contact with the other Weasleys, still seeing the fire and anger in Molly Weasley's eyes, though she decided that the warning would be enough. "Very well. I hereby call this Custody Hearing adjourned." Striking the gavel down, the gathered witches and wizards stood up and waited for the judge to leave through her back door, before each made their way to opposite exits. Fleur, once outside of the courtroom, sighed deeply. "Finally, it's over." François rubbed his daughter's back as Apolline grumbled. "The custody hearing went as expected but I still say you offered too much of your existing funds to that ungrateful brat." François shot his wife a look. "I don't disagree, my love, but Fleur was right in not delaying the divorce proceedings over a few hundred galleons. She will not suffer for it and the Weasleys will likely never bother us again."

Apolline looked from her daughter to François, before pulling out a compact mirror, holding it out to her daughter. "Here, my dear, why don't you call your grandmother and let her know we will be picking up Victoire today. The Conclave must have been a rare delight for the girl and your cousins will have been spoiling her rotten with how cute she is, but it is time we all make our way home." Fleur gave a soft smile at the thought of her daughter, even with how exhausted she looked. "You are right, Maman. I will let her know." As Fleur left to the nearest unwarded area, her parents kept pace some distance behind her. "I hope you were only saying those words to soothe our daughter, François. You know just as well as I do that the Weasleys will not be satisfied even with the amount of gold Fleur left that man in the settlement. Molly Weasley will certainly retry to "collect" her granddaughter to bring her back to Britain, where they will hope their Ministry will be able to refuse to assist the ICW." François sighed but nodded. "You are, as ever, quite astute, my dear. Sadly, I can only increase the security at our home so much under the law." Apolline turned to look at her husband. "Fine, but if anything ever puts our granddaughter in danger that cannot be resolved by the MSF acting within the confines of the law, I will be looking for aid elsewhere." Delacour turned to his wife. "My love, that is…" Apolline turned to him, her eyes flashing with magic and flames. "I understand your hesitation, my husband, but this is our family we are talking about. You will protect them to the best of your contacts and abilities… and so will I." François sighed, knowing better than to try to disway his wife on this matter. "Then let us pray it never comes to that."

Londinium Arena, December 1998

Swinging his sword down with plenty of strength, Harry felt it strike the head of the creature, stunning it momentarily, before taking the hilt with both hands and jamming the blade down into the skull, killing the beast, after which he cast a wandless banisher at the ground, scattering the seemingly endless waves of rats away from him. He winced for a moment as a rat bit into the back of his calf, avoiding the leather shin protection in the front, but a swing with his sword dislodged the insidious pest. Getting to a higher rock formation, Harry was able to get a better view of the remaining threats, whilst also getting out of the noxious gas that had been steadily rising from the ground, feeling quite happy that he had learned the Bubble-Head Charm that Fleur and Cedric had used during the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament. In the distance, where a small cave had been crafted into the Arena, Harry could see a thin strip of water snaking out of darkness. Just outside of the cave were several large rats patrolling the area, a veritable sea of rats covering the ground around them. Harry had certainly read about these creatures at Hogwarts, but few texts actually went into detail just how deadly they could be in the right conditions. They were known as Lavellans and were often found near water sources in the European, African and Asian continents. Rumour had it that the first of these creatures was created by a disgruntled Mage who had hated the growing power base of the Catholic Church in mainland Europe. Taking a mating pair of large rats, he successfully cursed them into becoming the hideous beasts that currently stood before him, a nauseous pestilence being carried by the river and spread about the Arena enclosure.

Most Magical Communities had task forces specifically trained to fight these creatures, so as to prevent outbreaks of plague in the nearby countries. In the past, these countermeasures had been ineffective, but in recent memory very few instances of Lavellan encounters were reported. That said, it was believed that the cursed beasts could never truly be wiped out from the face of the Earth. When the creatures bred, the resulting infants were practically indistinguishable from common rats and these often were mixed in with the population, breeding with other rats. No one was sure exactly what triggered the change in what looked like an ordinary rat, but the change was quick and devastating, as the appearance of one would soon be followed by several others, before these would themselves breed, creating a sudden explosion of rats in any region. Personally Harry would have placed them as the first Task, being easier to kill than Wyrms, though he could see why the Goblins were concerned with these beasts. In an open environment, the Lavellans weren't entirely dangerous, but Goblins didn't live on the surface, but in tightly packed communities underground. Whilst a Wyrm could cause physical damage to the goblins and their surroundings, a Lavellan could bring death to an entire community by spreading their noxious gasses and pestilence wherever they went. What gear and equipment the Goblins had made them effective when fighting a beast like the Lavellan directly, but they were hopeless in the face of the toxic odor and diseases the creatures spread by their very existence. On second thought, Harry could see why the Goblins placed these beasts above the Wyrms. Even their magic wasn't enough to give them the edge they needed against these beasts.

Whilst they were capable of using magic, the wandless variant Goblins practiced meant they weren't able to actually cast specific spells. Essentially, not counting enchantments nor wards, Goblin magic mostly seemed to consist of charms specifically designed to assist them in everyday tasks, such as activating or deactivating wards, activating enchantments, summoning or banishing objects, or rarely affecting the minds of others. It was these limitations that drove the eternal Goblin desire to acquire functioning wands for their species, though their warlike behaviour made Witches and Wizards pass laws that banned them from ever owning a wand, so as to prevent what they saw would be the unprecedented dangers brought about by Goblins using wands freely. Harry could understand their desire, having been powerless for so long in the presence of others, and hoped that someday he could help them, as much of what they considered difficult in their existence was the result of their inability to cast magic freely. Against creatures like the Lavellan, where Harry had the benefit of a Bubble-Head Charm to keep his lungs safe from exposure, the Goblins simply couldn't do anything except to try and block the gasses to specific areas with wards or to push it back with banishing spells, the latter strategy bring one Harry had just tested and saw how ineffective it was as the gap was quickly filled in. He did, however, notice how a rat transformed into Lavellan right next to the river. In fact, as he recalled the amount that he had seen grow before his eyes, they had all manifested next to the contaminated water. While Harry doubted he had solved the eternal mystery of a Lavellan's origins, he could deduce that the best way to keep the rats from continuously turning into Lavellan was to eliminate the source.

Aware that a fireball curse would have no immediate effect with the river, Harry settled on the other aspect of water he knew and that was freezing it. With the Elder Wand in hand, he focused his magic and raised his voice. "Glacius!" The river suddenly began to freeze up, a few unlucky rats getting stuck in the shallow waters at the river's edge. As the larger Lavellans rushed him, Harry switched the wand to his offhand and continued the freezing spell to slow down or even freeze the smaller rats, while using his sword to cut down the larger beasts. It frustrated Harry that even with a decently sharp longsword, the Lavellian weren't severely injured when he swung at them, though thanks to his training by Dredhook, he knew how to strike them in such a way that he could turn his next strike into a stab, which with his full strength and weight behind it was more than able to pierce the giant rat's hide and bones. After a while, he had successfully eliminated all the Lavellans near the river, with the smaller pests either frozen in place on the ground or having fled into the cave. Not wanting to waste an opportunity, Harry took a moment to carve runes on the two sides of the cave entrance before using the wand to cast a "Protego Totalis". Harry smiled to himself as the ward came into effect, the marking on the cave acting as anchors for it, reminding him of his best friend, Hermione, who had spent a few weeks teaching him the spell as part of the wards for their tent during their year on the run. Since it was his spell he could easily pass through it, but the rats wouldn't be able to break through, trapping them in the cave. As he walked into the cave, his face protected by the bubble-head charm, with a conjured towel wrapped around his neck just in case the bubble popped, he dug into his bag to retrieve the glass vials.

Fully aware that the most dangerous animal was a trapped beast, he began tossing the open vials everywhere, the air becoming thick with the toxic gas, before raising a dueling shield with his wand once more in his offhand, his sword held at the ready before him in a stabbing pose. He didn't have to wait long as the smaller pests raced past him, desperate to reach the outside, the barrier successfully preventing that, before a small glint of light made Harry tense up. He thrusted his sword quickly as soon as one of the Lavellans rushed him, striking through the giant rat's mouth and into its skull, before quickly dislodging the body, as another one of the large beasts rushed him. Seeing a second one to his right, he was able to use his dueling shield to launch it back as he parried the claws of the other, before impaling it through the chest. Still having the other giant rat in sight, Harry used his offhand to summon it, the animal screeching as it was brought into range of his blade, before he jammed it down into the creature's back. He found the last two Lavellans in the back of the cave, hissing at him, both of them fully aware that he had eliminated the rest, the floor littered with dead or dying rats. He momentarily felt pity for the creatures. They were animals carrying out their basic instinct to survive and breed, the curse inflicted upon them making them a threat to all sentient life and beyond. "For what it's worth… I am sorry." Sensing an opening, both of the beasts rushed at him, claws held out before them, their mouths filled with sharp teeth open, desperate to latch onto him. Harry dropped the dueling shield before waving his wand in a sharp line. "Diffindio."

The cutting hex sliced right through the beasts, their bodies falling to the ground in clumps of flesh and bone. Casting a detection spell, Harry found two rats that were desperately trying to claw their way through the wall, killing them, before walking out of the cave, casting a fireball curse into the mass of corpses before slipping out through the ward to loud cheers. Whilst the reception to his first successful trial seemed to have been positive, it had been muted. This time, however, the Goblins cheered loudly as Harry used the conjured towel to clean off the mess of blood and guts still attached to his sword, before sheathing it, fully aware that it was his decision to use melee weapons that had earned him the respect of the Goblins. Whilst a Goblin would never ask him to never use all of his skills to his advantage, the sight of a wandwaver wielding a sword as a Goblin had trained him displayed Harry's respect for the customs and warrior nature of their people, so they in turn respected him all the more. While it was a lot more work getting to know how to wield and use a sword adequately, Harry was glad he took the time to do so before the Trial. Unlike the Wyrm, he had felt that he had more options to pick from, his training keeping him physically safer from danger. He knew it wouldn't be so easy in the next task but knowing that he was never really out of options between his potions, his weapons training and his improved control over his magic made him feel more comfortable with himself, even if the odd feeling he had felt ever since he was a young boy living in a cupboard under the stairs in Surrey still remained. He was now a proper wizard, a combatant of the Gringotts Arenas and was currently living a comfortable life, even if it was that of a worker repaying a debt. So… why… Why did it feel that there was something missing? That there was something wrong that he just couldn't define?

Present Day

Walking up the steps leading up to Paris' branch of Gringotts Bank, Elysia took a moment to look back down the Place Cachée, recalling the previous time she had felt that odd sensation in her mind. That it had occurred here during the holidays and near Beauxbatons just a few weeks back suggested to her that the source of the sensation was either a student or a teacher at the Magical Academy, though aside from Madame Maxime, Elysia had no knowledge of anyone there. The only other person that she knew could be a candidate would be Fleur Delacour, but the last she knew of the Veela was that she was living at that odd place called Shell Cottage in Britain with her husband and, as a graduate, she had no reason to be traveling back there regardless. The thought about the small house by the sea shore made her heart ache at the thought of the small elf Harry had buried there. Neither he nor Elysia had been there to pay their respects since Dobby had been buried, and with the situation surrounding the growing hostilities in Britain, she felt it best to stay as far away from that accursed island as she could. Regaining control of her emotions, Elysia steadied her large potions delivery case. As spring had made the climate more pleasant to be in, she had left behind her darker coats and thicker sweaters, wearing instead her father's dragonhide brown jacket over a black turtleneck shirt and blue jeans that had felt a bit tighter this time around. Ida had seen her out of the Manor and had suggested that she get her measurements rechecked since apparently she had grown too bulky in places. As such, as soon as she left the Bank, she would be hitting the nearest clothing stores to get clothes that were a better fit for her now and hopefully for later.

As she approached the guards, Elysia watched as both of the Goblins in full armor nodded their heads at her, with her smiling back and doing the same. Goblin Guards usually only showed respect to the highest ranked Goblins, those being the Viceroys and the King himself, though Elysia was the only true exception. As warriors, every guard strived to reach the pinnacle of their capabilities. For them, as Dredhook had taught her, combat prowess was everything, with most Viceroys actually having started out as Guards or Soldiers before either happenstance or the Arena allowed them to gather renown. Most future Viceroys would reach about the fourth or fifth trial before quitting, as the sixth task and onwards were the most dangerous. For all of them, however, a Champion of the Arena represented that perfect ideal of combat prowess that they all strived for. With Champions only appearing in intervals of centuries, Elysia could readily understand why they showed her a respect that bordered on adoration, though as she had been trained by a former soldier and guard, she also held great respect for them, never allowing their recognition to go unreturned, as she knew that their training regimes were insane and their hours were brutally long, especially while wearing heavy armour. The rest of the goblins, after having seen her every weekend since the beginning of the year, had already grown used to her arrival and were less inclined to disrupt their daily activities because of her. Unfortunately, it seemed that someone else had been disrupting today's peace at the bank.

"We are telling you, Goblin, that the withdrawal of these funds was authorized by the divorce agreement, so just withdraw the written amount!" The goblin, who seemed to be doing a good job at not displaying his irritation, responded to her in their usual, disinterested voice that they had for customers they just wanted to be done with. "And I am certain the documentation is legitimate, but until the documents go through the Ministry records office and the agreement is then forwarded to us, we simply cannot withdraw the funds from the private vault of one of our patrons without their in person authorization." As the woman grew ever more colorful with her insults, Elysia felt her blood run cold at the sound and now sight of Molly Weasley, who was clearly being accompanied by her husband and two oldest sons. The shock of seeing them in Paris, right in front of her, however, wore off as soon as Molly raised her voice one last time. "No, we are not leaving until you pay us what is owed! That harlot broke my son's heart and stole my granddaughter from us. So you best bring us the payment that is written right here before I show you what we do to greedy blighters like yourself back home!" Molly's words were soon followed by a loud thud as the case filled with potions landed on the floor, though Elysia was wise enough to buy a delivery case that protected the contents from impacts. As everyone turned their attention towards her, she knew she needed to end this situation quickly. "Excuse me, but did you just threaten a goblin teller?"

As the three Weasley men tried to defuse the situation, Elysia kept her eyes on Molly, who whirled around to glare at her. "This filthy goblin refuses to hand us the galleons we are owed by my son's now ex-wife and I will be damned if we will be denied what is owed to us after they took my son and had the custody of my granddaughter taken away from him. Now go find another teller to bother, you hussie, while I deal with this little thief." Elysia could have restrained herself had Molly Weasley kept her insults focused on her. It was nothing new to the former Boy Who Lived after all. But to actually accuse a Goblin of theft with no evidence was a grave insult to their kind. They may have been a species that was ever focused on the pursuit of greater profit, but few, if any, goblin would dare to steal for themselves, knowing that the galleons taken by theft were badges of dishonour amongst their kind. Seeing the anger in the goblin rising and knowing it could result in the creature doing something drastic, Elysia decided to save everyone the trouble. She gave Molly Weasley a disarming smile before gesturing with her hand towards the front doors… before her wandless banisher launched the witch in said direction. As expected, both William and Percy drew their wands as Arthur went to help his wife get back up but, unfortunately for them, Elysia had no desire to prolong this encounter further, summoning their wands right out of their hands. William looked even more perplexed. "My wand has been warded to prevent that. How…"

Ignoring the man, Elysia waited for the nearest guards to approach her, handing the wands to one of them. With Molly up, her wand was quickly out, but Elysia summoned it as well, passing it along to the guards. "You…you…who do you think you are?!" Elysia turned to her, trying her best not to look at her directly in the eyes. "I? I am a citizen of the Goblin Nation and whilst Goblins are not allowed to assault unruly customers who do not first harm a Goblin, I am under no such restrictions and can banish you out of this bank without having to worry about you or your corrupt little government being an issue." As Molly's face turned bright red, Elysia slapped a silencing spell on her before turning to William. "Now if you could all kindly leave this bank and not return, we can just leave matters as they are now, though the wands will be transferred over to your family's vault in your region of residence as a safety precaution." As Percy was preparing to raise his voice at her, the Goblin Guards that stood beside Elysia lowered their halberts and pointed them straight at the wizards. "You have been asked to leave kindly. Delay any further and even we will be permitted to spill your blood all over the floor." To the surprise of everyone, the raven haired witch tapped the helmet of the Goblin who spoke. "Now, none of that. If you two end up getting reassigned over something stupid, I will be taking out my frustrations on the both of you in the Arena, along with these wand waving idiots." The two guards looked at each other, before raising the halberts, though they kept them in a position to push the Weasleys out through the door. William looked at the interaction of Elysia and the Guards, with the mention of the Arena making him swallow the lump that had just formed in his throat.

"There will be no need, ma'am. We were just leaving. Come along, mother, we can make the request from the London branch. It certainly would be safer. Now, Percy!" The group of Weasley's left the atrium of Gringotts Paris, with two other guards escorting them out. Those that remained looked at her curiously. "We could have handled them." Elysia nodded. "Yes, you could have, but that witch was so uneducated that she would have given every Goblin here a grave insult that would need to be avenged. It was better for me to diffuse the situation, particularly because I don't want to have to break in two new guards. Getting the two of you to just nod at me every day that I walk through those doors was more than enough trouble for me and I don't want to go through that again." A deep voice chuckled behind them. "Indeed, my dear. You two are fine guards and we all would prefer not to have to give you some token "punishment" just to appease some foolish wand wavers. If they were to attempt to do the same with our dear Lady, I am sure we all know what His Majesty would say about the mess, or lack thereof, that she would have made with them." The goblins around Elysia all chuckled as she blushed. "His Majesty can get… creative when he finds himself or his subjects insulted. I would at least try to not leave any complications for everyone else." Fueruk, who had walked out of his office after the first mention of unruly behaviour in the Bank Atrium, raised an eyebrow as the guards returned to their posts at the front door of the bank. "And I am sure he will be as pleased as I am concerning your choice to defend the honour of one of our own. Now then, my lady, I believe we had a business appointment?"

Nodding, Elysia bid the gathered Goblins a fine day, receiving a heartfelt thank you from the teller who had endured Molly Weasley's tirade, before lifting her potions case with relative ease. Elysia was at least glad that the confrontation didn't seem to expose her. Sure, she had the same black hair and green eyes of Harry Potter, but as Elysia she kept her hair long and tied haphazardly in ponytails. And, to her great relief, when she had taken the potion that resulted in her transformation, the scar that had been a part of her life and the symbol of the Boy Who Lived, had been erased from her forehead. Being able to stand before four of the Weasley family without issue and not being recognized as Harry had resolved some of her insecurities regarding whether some aspect of who she was could betray her former identity. Feeling a slight emotional high from the event, Elysia found herself in the Potions Lab of Gringotts Paris, placing her potions case on the available table, before opening it, revealing rows of potion vials, all properly identified with labels and batch numbers. Handing the written inventory to Fueruk, she began to explain. "These are my variations on the standard healing potion using non-standard supplies from every region of the world. Most only functioned when using locally sourced secondary ingredients, though I did manage to get a few to work using partial international ingredient lists. Along with the successful batches that showed the anticipated healing effect on mice, I have also included the failed combinations and procedures so that any errors can be avoided safely. I will be starting on the Blood Replenishing Potion variants after this, though I may come up with something else for standard Healing Potions in the future."

Fueruk looked over the list, his lips breaking into a smile. "If these do indeed pan out, we will have quite a few patents to register with the ICW." Handing the papers to the chief potioneer of the lab to look over as the other assistants began to empty out the case, pulling out quite a few more vials than was expected from the size of the container, Fueruk guided Elysia back to his office before both sat down. "These potions are also likely to be requested to be released into a license, like your enhanced Wolfsbane Potion. Have you thought about what you would like to do with all of them?" Elysia sighed, running her hand over her hair. "I have. I have no problem having the recipes being licensed, so long as I retain the right to publish books with these potion recipes as they are my accomplishment. I want to retain the right to collect a small percentage of the earnings from the sale of these potions, while also keeping the ability to transfer credit of the recipes if local Potions Masters can properly demonstrate that they developed the same potions prior to the date of patent registration by us." Fueruk, who was writing the basics of Elysia's requests, sighed. "Always so generous. You know we could negotiate with them in order for you to retain the royalties for the license." Elysia shook her head. "It wouldn't be fair. We are drafting these provisions to ensure I retain some profit from my work. I won't deny the same right to anyone else." The Parision Viceroy shrugged. "Your choice. However, it behooves me to point out that these provisions and that your plan to possibly publish your work will expose your name to the public. I was under the impression that you wanted to keep your current identity hidden."

Elysia sighed, but she nodded. "I know. I had a talk with Jeanne about it and she helped me realize that sacrificing the normal aspects of living in a magical community to conceal my identity is doable, but it will always mean living by the rules of others, avoiding every social gathering or the eyes of everyone on the road. I don't want to do that forever. I don't fear death nor any beasts that call this world home. I can't let my fear of being drawn into the world beyond my Estate's property lines have any more power over me. I won't walk out into the street and shout out my name for all to hear and we will do everything possible to keep my home private and concealed, but I have decided not to hide anymore." Fueruk smiled slightly. "The Viceroys and the King would have loved to keep you the Goblin Nation's secret, but your courage to walk back out into the world is commendable. As always, we will do what we can to make the experience as comfortable to you as possible." Elysia smiled at him. "And I will always be grateful to Gringotts for being so accommodating." The two of them continued writing down the license agreement in the way that Elysia retained several rights and privileges whilst allowing Apothecaries, Schools and Potions Masters to read and produce the potions, with the only royalties being collected from the future book sales and the product sold to the general public. Once that was done, Elysia walked into the Place Cachée at night, finding a clothing store that was still open where she got her new measurements, which made her blush in embarrassment, before heading home after buying new clothes. As far as Elysia was concerned, it had been a good day.

Chapter 7: Stepping Out

"Ah, Director Delacour. You are right on time. The patients should be undergoing the transformation any moment now." Taking off his coat and hanging it on the coat hanger by the door, François moved into the room that had been allocated to them by the staff of Saint Louise's Research Hospital for Magical Maladies. In order for the Ministry of Magic and its Department of Health and Magical Care to recognize that the new potion was as effective as the Goblins suggested, they had requested that the test be performed within their own facility. This caused further delays in the observation of the clinical trial as not only did the Ministry need an active participant of the trials to participate, which thanks to Gringotts' personal involvement they were able to obtain a willing volunteer, but they also needed two other subjects, a control where a Were wouldn't take any Wolfsbane and a subject that would take the old formula. With the Hospital having strengthened the rooms the Weres would be staying in during the transformations and getting the volunteers to agree after having to provide some monetary compensation, it was finally time for the observations to occur. François ran a hand over his still wet hair, before drawing his wand and drying it. "My apologies. My granddaughter woke up as soon as I was heading out and I had to help her get back to sleep." The observers chuckled, with the Director of the HMC department standing in front of four scrying mirrors, one tuned to the horizon as they awaited the moonrise, whilst the other three were looking over the Weres who were standing in rooms devoid of any objects, as much as for their safety as it was to keep damage to a minimum.

The director, a middle-aged man of Indian ancestry, shook his head. "Ahh, the hardships of being a family man. How well I know them." One of the observing Healers spoke up. "Director Bashir, moonrise in one minute." The man gestured to François to come closer and soon everyone in the room was looking at the scrying mirrors, watching as the three volunteers, all men of approximately the same size and age, began to turn. The poor soul who didn't take the Wolfsbane potion screamed, at first in agony before his voice was replaced with a furious howl. The werewolf who took the standard wolfsbane potion had a similar reaction, though there was less rage in its first howl, though the pain clearly remained as the two men had their limbs reconfigured and stretched until they took on the large, halfbreed like appearance of the standard European Werewolves. Even between the first two, though, there were obvious differences, as the first Were quickly took in its surroundings and proceeded to attack the warded walls in a blind rage. The Were who had taken the standard potion seemed sickly and hunched over, the beast emitting noises a kin to an injured canine, its fur growing in patches instead of the thick coat that covered the first, before it shook its head and simply settled into the room, curling up into a ball. Of course, the sight of the first two wolves stood in clear contrast with the third man, whose transformation had left the Healers mostly speechless, with one of the younger women staring blankly at the screen. "That's not possible."

Bashir, with undisguised awe in his voice, responded. "But it is. We just witnessed it. The files we read all said the same thing and I just couldn't help but attribute the glowing recommendations from those taking the potion as the effects of the relief brought on by no longer enduring the pain that the transformation had on them. But that… that wasn't a standard transformation at all!" François could definitely agree, as he had witnessed as the third Were simply stretched out his arms before his figure gently hunched over, its form shifting but without any of the traditional bone breaking noises that precedes a change. Instead, it was a more gradual shift as the body soon took on more wolf-like features, until, once the transformation was completed, all that remained in the room was a slightly above average wolf standing on four paws, an immaculate fur coat covering almost all of its body. One of the assistants thought out loud. "If anything… it was like watching an Animagus shift into their animal form." Bashir straightened out his back, his hand rubbing the short stubble on his chin. "That it did, and for the end result to look less like a hybrid and more like a standard wolf… truly fascinating. Ezri, let's start phase two and see if the results also line up." The young witch nodded before taking a small microphone into her hand, calling out instructions to the Weres. As expected, the first one was utterly disinterested in the voice, trying instead to destroy its source within the room. The other two, however, did respond, with the Were using the standard potion moving a bit more sluggish and taking its time to think on the requests, whilst the Were who used the new potion responded to all instructions quickly and with great precision, leaving the Healers feverishly writing their observations in their notes.

The Director of the Health Department watched as the two cognizant Weres curled up into balls before calling it for a night, whilst the one who didn't take the potions was pacing along the edges of the walls, searching for an opening it could exploit. Bashir rubbed his face. "Damn it François, I read the full report about the availability of this potion's supplies. Just watching these three Weres alone makes it clear that this new potion will completely replace the original, especially once we finish observing their behaviour during the full night, and then check their blood samples in the morning for any dangerous toxins lingering in their system. If everything comes out clear…" François sighed. "I know. We received a notification from Gringotts that the inventor has agreed to put a license on their new recipe. The details will be provided to us as soon as we attend a meeting in the Bank with the Potions Master." Bashir grumbled. "You best get that meeting soon, Delacour. The sooner the Potions Institute and our in-house Potion Masters can produce these, the sooner we can get all the final approvals and tests completed. Hopefully the supply situation will be handled by then." François nodded. "I will ask Brion to see what the Ministry can do to speed things along. In the meantime I will leave you all to your patients while I get back home to get some measure of sleep. Just make sure that the final report is on my desk as soon as you can, Bashir." Being dismissed by his colleague, François took one last look at the scrying screens and the Weres displayed. The fact that the transformations themselves all produced different results would probably lead to many more questions regarding the curse of Lycanthropy and the possibility of a successful treatment. What was supposed to be an immutable curse suddenly looked quite malleable, making one wonder if this new Wolfsbane potion was only the beginning. Whatever it foreshadowed, François hoped it wouldn't lead to violence and conflict. The world had too much of both already in it as it was.

"Fleur? How are you feeling?" The elder of the Delacour sisters looked up at Gabrielle who had stepped out onto the family's patio deck, after having just arrived from Beauxbatons from the Easter Break, though the name was merely a catch all term used for the late March and early April recess afforded to families who celebrated particular religious celebrations. Since Beauxbatons had students from most of the countries of Continental Europe, the school had adapted its schedule to accommodate as many people as possible. As some dates didn't tend to coincide with the two week recess, those who were adherents to these beliefs were allowed to have their recess early or late depending on the situation, before returning to the Academy where the remaining staff members and the apprentices of the Professors who volunteered would complete the classes that they missed, ensuring that no one was left behind academically. The Delacours celebrated a mix of Easter, as François had been raised with it, and the Veela's version of Ostara, which was a celebration of the Spring Equinox. Whilst the scholars of Germanic culture debated its existence and celebrations amongst the non-magical community, for the Veela's the practice was an ancient one that predated most religious celebrations, being the day they celebrated akin to a New Year, with most Veela's returning home to the conclaves with their families to welcome in Spring. Gabrielle had already greeted her parents inside, with her mother telling her about where she could find Fleur.

The older sister reached out and grasped Gabrielle's offered hand, a smile breaking out over her tired face. "Getting better. I had thought I was over it once the divorce was settled… but then that bastard sent me a letter, blaming me for Gringotts terminating his employment." Gabrielle frowned as she took the cushioned seat next to her sister on the patio sofa, the fresh spring air easing some of her nerves. "What would make him think that you were responsible?" Fleur huffed. "Because his mother is a disrespectful harpy. Right after the Hearing, they went straight for Gringotts Paris to withdraw the funds from the divorce settlement. The woman couldn't help but insult the Goblins after they denied the withdrawal as the documentation needed to come through from the French Ministry and the ICW and she got her ass handed to her by a witch that stepped up to expel her from the Bank." Gabrielle smiled slightly. "Sounds Mrs Weasley got what she deserved. What about this witch? Is she a friend of yours from work?" Fleur shook her head. "Non, I only work during the week in the early hours whilst Mamman cares for Victoire and, based on my colleagues' comments, she only comes in during the weekends and usually only meets with Director Fueruk. The Goblin staff also refuse to speak her name, saying that they are respecting her wish to be left in peace." Gabrielle hummed. "Must be an important patron. Still… if Bill and his mother behaved in a way that facilitated his termination by Gringotts, he has no right to blame you." Pulling her sister into a side hug, Gabrielle continued. "You have already endured much from his neglect of you and Victoire. You should carry no more of the burdens he wishes to throw up on you. Just forget about him and let Mamman handle the letters from them."

That brought a laugh out from Fleur. "If I let her handle them, the letters will all end up as ash in the trash." Gabrielle shrugged. "Who's to say that isn't where they belong?" Fleur swiped playfully at her sister's shoulder. "Hush, you. I will let father handle it since we need to keep an eye out for the visitation requests." Gabrielle nodded. "Sure… but I meant what I said. You need to let go of all the emotional baggage that Bill left with you. Everything that happened before the divorce came about because of his poor decisions as a father and as a husband. You carry none of the blame." Fleur ruffled Gabrielle's hair. "When did you get so wise? Did they add a new class in Beauxbatons since I graduated?" Gabrielle huffed. "No, but I… I have really been thinking a lot about what sort of life I want to live after I graduate and that includes looking after my family when they need me. That, of course, includes you, even if you are my older sister." Fleur pulled Gabrielle to her and kissed her cheek. "Thank you, Gabrielle. You have no idea just how much your being here means to me. And to Victoire too. She's calling for her tante more than she has for Bill. The only person she misses more so far seems to be Hermione, since she often helped me on the weekends." Gabrielle blushed. "I… I will try and see if I can be here for her after graduation. I am not sure what sort of internship or apprenticeship I might take up afterwards, so I can't be sure what my schedule will look like but I can try and make sure that I can be here on the weekends. If… My schedule is a bit more flexible, I can try and cover a few more hours during the week, so you can get more work at Gringotts and have an easier time securing a permanent position." Fleur lowered her eyes. "I won't ask for that, Gabby. You need to live your life too. That includes going out and having fun, maybe finding that special someone. Or have you already found them and you have not been telling me?"

Gabrielle was quiet for a moment. She didn't want to add to her sister's worries and while a bond wasn't something that Fleur would worry over, she could potentially use her position at the bank to look for Harry. However, considering that he hasn't been found yet by anyone probably meant that he wouldn't be easily found, even by Fleur. And with how stubborn the Goblins were proving to be about respecting the identity of an unknown witch, it would only be doubly so for Harry Potter. She couldn't add to Fleur's troubles, not right now. "Nothing has changed, Fleur. There are no good boys for me back at Beauxbatons and right now I am more interested in figuring out what my career could be." Fleur straightened out. "Maman told me that you have been working with Professor d'Este handling the creatures for Care. How has it been?" Gabrielle sighed. "A mixed bag, really. The Abraxas are beautiful, of course, and looking after them is pleasant enough, but doing it day in and day out, particularly while they were forced to be in the stables because of winter, is exhausting. The first day we opened up the stable and got them to roam freely on the fields was the best. The sky was the same crisp, clear blue we see at Beauxbatons every spring." Fleur nodded. "I remember those days. It's the same sky we get here, but there is something about being so close to the mountains and away from the cities that just makes it special. Hogwarts was the same… except when it was bloody cold. That is one winter I do not miss." Gabrielle nodded as the two of them just relaxed, not realizing that Apolline was looking at them from the kitchen window, a small smile on her face at the sight of her daughters getting along so well with each other, before beginning to work on dinner. It had been a few months since she had a full house and had no intention of skimping on a well made meal for her family.

"Oh! Hi Elysia!" Looking up from the package of fresh poultry, the head of the Peverell family smiled at the sight of her friend's daughter, who was carrying a basket from the grocery store they were currently in. "Bonjour, Adeline. The usual place was closed for you too?" The young woman nodded. "Yeah, though it's not much of a surprise. Since Easter is this weekend, most of the residents in our town stock up on everything they could need for over a week. The grocers back home try to anticipate the amount the town will be purchasing but you know what it's like for small town stores to be able to buy above a certain amount every month." Elysia nodded, placing the fresh chicken into the shopping cart she was pushing. Adeline looked at the half filled cart. "Expecting company back home?" The raven haired woman shook her head as she pushed the cart further along the aisle. "Not really. Ida, the elf that decided to manage my family Estate, has been reading from a bunch of cookbooks I bought and we decided on a few recipes she would like to try her hand at, so I needed to restock my pantry. Though it was a good thing I came here, since the usual place is somewhat limited with the more unusual offerings. Is Jeanne with you?" As the dark skinned woman scanned the offerings of fresh meats, she took a small packet of fish filets. "No, not today. Since this weekend is the Easter holidays and she usually closes shop, she does a check with all the usual customers about the potions they usually buy on a monthly basis, particularly those that are desperately needed. Today she went out to deliver the potions to her usual customers so that no one needs to come to the Apothecary during the weekend. Usually I went along with her but since I can aparate freely this year, I volunteered to do the last minute shopping."

Adeline turned the packet over to Elysia. "You aren't buying fish?" The Lady of the Peverell family made a face. "I have never been fond of fish and while I respect the faith of others who forgo the usual meats for the holiday, I am not a practitioner. That and I think I would prefer trying tofu based food if I was trying to cut back on meat, rather than try fish or seafood. The smell just doesn't appeal to me, much to Macha's disappointment." Slipping the filets into her basket, the two moved on down the aisle further, reaching the deli section, where both of them picket out cheeses and cold cuts to take home. "I don't suppose they served much seafood at Hogwarts?" Elysia shook her head. "No, it was just your typical options of chicken, beef, pork and lamb. Though I can't say much of it tasted especially good. Since it was made to cater to everyone's tastes, the food ended up being somewhat bland. Ida has been a godsend to me because I am also quite interested in trying out marinades, seasoning and sauces that do much to add to the flavor of the food. What about Beauxbatons?" After Adeline explained the way that the academy served its food, the two of them continued talking about the schools, what they like and didn't like about them, though Adeline noticed that Elysia didn't have much to offer regarding the NEWT preparations. With their groceries paid for, both of them moved into the parking lot, before Elysia waved her hand around them after checking for security cameras. "There, we should be imperceptible." Adeline sighed in relief, lowering her heavier than expected grocery bags onto the ground. "Thank god." Both slipped the groceries they were carrying into their magically extended and weight reducing bags that also came with stasis charms designed to preserve the food in transit from the store.

At the younger Charbonneau's invitation, the two women apparated back to Saint-Cirq-Lapopie's magical district, with Adeline welcoming Elysia into her house for coffee, where they continued their discussions about the schools. "Aside from the apprentices studying to replace the professors once they retire, there are a few post NEWT academic activities that the Academy carries out. One of them is a Ministry funded yearly research mission to French Guiana for the search of new plants, roots and animals that could potentially have value for magical purposes. Unfortunately, they only send out the expedition every January so I will have six months of downtime if I decide to take it." Elysia raised an eyebrow as she lowered her cup of steaming coffee. "If? I think most people would jump at the chance to spend six months working in a veritable tropical paradise, particularly since magic will make it far more comfortable than the typical tourist's visit." Adeline smiled. "True, we would have it easier, but the amount of field work during the six months is quite extensive. Whenever we find what we believe to be a new plant, we need to document its environment and establish a rotating observation of the plants and its immediate vicinity covering all twenty four hours over a period of days, with periodic observations the entire six months, or however long we have left. Combine that with detailed sketches, photographs and carefully obtaining samples and doing this for every suspected new species of specimens and you have a very intensive six months planned. On the flip side, Herbologists and Care NEWT graduates get a lot of the experience they need to gain a Mastery in their chosen profession."

Elysia paused in thought. "Wait, you need to make detailed sketches for Herbology?" Adeline, who had taken a sip of her coffee, nodded. "Yeah. It's what Beauxbatons starts its first years with. We observe the magically important plants and make detailed sketches of them. Our first term exam was identifying leaves, flowers and roots in the form of sketches whilst also drawing a few from memory. It was actually a lot of fun and Professor Persaud makes photography and sketching a large part of the class for identification and documentation purposes." Elysia hummed in thought. "We had books with illustrations but none of us were asked to draw or sketch the specimens… Can I see your work?" Adeline slipped into her room quickly before returning with her current year's sketchbook. She proceeded to identify every plant as Elysia leafed through the sketches, seeing the incredibly detailed images on the paper. As they were going through the illustrations, Jeanne arrived at the house, calling out to her daughter and greeting Elysia after discovering her sitting at the kitchen table. Elysia noticed that beyond just drawing plants, Adeline did a few drawings of the safety equipment as a visual reminder of which plants needed special handling. "Adeline, you said you would have to wait until January before going on your expedition. Would you like to try your hand at illustrating a potions recipe book?" Adeline froze. "Wait, you want me to illustrate what? But… I am just an amateur!" Elysia gestured at the image on the sketchbook. "True, but I love the look of your sketches. They are very in keeping with traditional illustrations in standard textbooks, but with more of an artistic flair with how you fill in shadows. I would love it if your pictures made the ingredients stand out on the pages. And if you are worried about putting your name out there, you can always use a pseudonym."

Adeline thought for a second at the suggestion of a pen name. "True, if I used a pseudonym I wouldn't get swamped with requests or expectations and I remember mother mentioning how you wanted to keep your family name from being too well known at any specific location or with anyone other than Gringotts. Wait, why don't you just publish your potions book under a pseudonym too?" Jeanne shook her head. "It doesn't work like that. Potions are a heavily regulated business and people who brew and sell potions without a license can get in trouble. Since she is an ICW registered Potions Master, she needs to publish her work under her name, otherwise someone else could try and claim her work for themselves." Elysia gave Adeline a bittersweet smile. "Yeah, for me there is no choice. But you can devise a pseudonym that will keep you and your mother safe and let you collect some income from the prints made of the book once we start putting it up for sale. I won't be publishing for some time just yet since we are waiting to see the shelf life of many of my new potions, while I also have a few other possible variants left to test, thereby leaving you plenty of time to sketch the large variety of potion ingredients that I will be using. I don't have numbers on me at the moment for what an illustrator can earn from such a publication but I can assure you that it will be a fair compensation for your work." Jeanne smiled at her daughter. "And if you head out on the expedition and the book gets published in the meantime, you will come back to quite the nice paycheck. You get to do what you love doing either way. What do you say, Adeline?"

The young woman looked at her clearly proud mother and Elysia's relaxed features, the latter clearly not pushing her to either outcome. Taking one last look of the latest sketch she had made and just how much she had enjoyed drawing it settled her mind. She looked up at Elysia and smiled. "I… I would love to illustrate your book. When do you want me to get started?" Elysia stared at Adeline for a moment. "Right after you finish your NEWT examinations. I am not adding to your workload and there is no hurry to get any of them done. Besides…" Elysia chuckled nervously. "I… don't have any living specimens left. I sorta already processed all of the supplies Gringotts got me so I need to make a new order for the raw materials so you can inspect the plants yourself. Hell, you might even give me a few pointers in figuring out the best way to render them down to get the best results." Adeline shook her head. "Yeah, I suppose it was too much to expect a Potions Master to have a green thumb." Elysia pouted. "Hey, I try my best as is. If it weren't for Ida and her fairy friends, my Dittany plants in the Estate greenhouses would all be dead inside of a week." At the mention of fairies helping with growing the plants, Adeline's passion was stoked as she tried to get anything out of Elysia, who had not paid anywhere near enough attention to satisfy the young woman, as Jeanne smiled at the sight of her daughter unfettered by the weight of her parents' divorce. It was a sight that she had been waiting a long time to see.

Londinium District, March 21st 1999

"Would you like to give it a try, Mr Potter?" Harry looked at the cup of a bright blue liquid held in the Goblin's hand and shook his head. "Thank you but no, Dredhook. The last time you had me try a drink, I ended up in the infirmary." The goblin shrugged. "What can I say, we goblins know how to make our alcohol better than humans." Harry chuckled. "You forgot to add "better than what human bodies can safely ingest."" Dredhook's smile turned predatory, though it lacked any ill will. "Fair enough. Still, you are welcomed to join the festivities. As a victor in the Third Arena Trial, you have more than earned it." Harry watched as Dredhook returned to his fellow workers and guards, the lot of them cheering at his return with their cups filled with alcohol held high as the Goblins celebrated the Spring Equinox. While Goblins hardly ever left the safety of their underground communities, according to Harry's roommate, the festivals and traditions that had arisen during their time as surface dwellers remained a part of their culture, including the celebrations around the Equinoxes and Solstices. Harry didn't have much experience with these as Hogwarts hadn't celebrated anything other than the more modern holidays, though he had heard from Luna that the old Magical families still liked to celebrate the ancient festivals in private, as quasi religious traditions, as many had already abandoned any form of organized faith. From Harry's own observations, the Goblins still had some religious traditions, though they rarely showed it.

From what he had been able to read and gather, the Goblins believed in at least two principal deities: The Great Earth Mother and The Devil of the Seas. As a race that was so heavily dependent on the Earth, Harry could see why they idolized the very medium that allowed them to live, and it also explained somewhat why they refused to waste anything gathered from the Earth itself. They didn't view the ground, stone or even the metal as her body, but as her domain, the stone being the challenge that all Goblins had to face and the shelter within which they could be protected, the valuable stones, gems and metals were the rewards the Great Earth Mother awarded them for their efforts, while the beasts that preyed upon them were both a challenge they had to face, as well as a service to the Mother in ridding her of these pests. The Devil of the Seas, by contrast, was seemingly more of a concept rather than a deity they worshiped, as they viewed the Sea as their greatest limitation. On Earth they could dig ever deeper, certain that they would likely never reach the molten rock underneath the crust of the planet, but the seas and oceans were a limitation they could only ignore, but never truly surpass, hence the translation that approximated "Devil." Whilst they did acknowledge there might be other primordial deities, they hardly ever worshiped them, so when the Equinoxes and the Solstices took place, the festivities were focused on the Earth Mother, with Yule being called The Earth Mother's Day of Grieving, a date where the Goblins respected their dead in a tradition a kin to Samhain, and Ostara being the Day of Renewal, when the Earth Mother washes away her tears and smiles upon the world again.

So, whilst the Goblin's Yule celebrations were in direct opposition to the rest of the world's festivities, being a very somber occasion, Ostara was the great celebration, the day when tears turn to joy and merriment and hope springs forward from despair, with the Goblins holding a great feast and drink what Harry was sure to be far too much alcohol to be healthy. Still, even though he was a non-believer and an outsider to these people, he couldn't help but respect and admire their culture. For a race that was seen as greedy by the outside world, Harry could see now that there was a reason behind their fervor. For them, war had been their way to prove themselves worthy of the Great Mother's blessings. In a world where war was not as profitable or as localized for the Goblins to participate in, they were very much left to find other means to pursue the sense of risk and accomplishment that came from combat. The world of banking, where they could safeguard the Earth Mother's most treasured rewards, where investments were treated as life and death and respect was earned with great difficulty from those who held wands, seemed like a suitable alternative for them. Of course, that wasn't to say that they dismissed the value of combat. The guards and soldiers still trained for what the Goblin Nation called the inevitability of conflict amongst themselves or outsiders, and the Arena, the one place where any warrior could seek to earn the respect and glory of all Goblins, was where all challengers could obtain what was still seen as the highest of honours. Having participated now in three Trials, Harry could see why they considered the Challengers and Champions so highly.

It had only been a week since Harry had completed his latest Arena Task and this one had certainly been a different sort of challenge for him. With the Wyrms and Lavellans, these were pests and beasts that presented a danger to the Goblins themselves. His next challenge had been less of a Goblin's justified fear and more of spectacle of combat. The first sign that something was different about this trial was the Arena itself. Rather than the wider ground and stone surface with rocks, boulders and, during the previous task, small streams and caves, this time the Arena was covered in a thick forest that had Harry's senses on edge. Something about the environment had left him feeling uncomfortable, with a nagging thought in the back of his mind telling him to be worried about the trees. The trees themselves looked less like the evergreens that the Dark Forest near Hogwarts was famous for. No, these had wider and uneven canopies of leaves, the roots twisting and bending at odd angles, with moss covering the barks of most of the tree trunks. He almost accidentally dipped his feet in what looked to be either a shallow bog or swamp. Harry remembered the bit of magic the Weasley Twins used to obstruct the hallways during Umbridge's tyrannical rule, though there was something else about this enclosure. As he passed by a large island of mossy ground, the former Gryffindor felt every hair on the back of his neck stand up on ends before he ducked low to the ground and swiftly turned, his sword crossed over his body ready to swing whilst his wand was held out, ready to cast. Apparently, the decision to duck had been the right one as he saw a massive tree trunk sized arm return from where it had just been above his head, the air echoing with the noise it made as it impacted a tree.

What he had misinterpreted as a mossy outcropping of land was now lifting itself out of the water, its height surpassing that of the bloody troll from his first year at Hogwarts. Avoiding another swipe with the creature's long arms, Harry sent a few exploratory spells its way, watching as they partially winked out of existence, the only spell that seemed to connect being the small fireball he had cast, which seemed to ignite some of the moss that covered the large body before it died out, possibly from the water. That reaction told him that the beast was resistant to most forms of magic to some degree. Seeing the environment and getting a better look at the features of the monster, with its appearance being a cross between a hippopotamus and a troll, its mouth showing some resemblance to a crocodile with its uneven teeth, made Harry sweat. The Hishii of Finland were an odd troll-like creature that at times seemed to defy classification. While some of the beasts appeared small and seemed to delight in attacking unwitting travelers of the seasonal bogs of the region, most stories indicated a troll-like hulking beast that would smash horse, carriage or even men to feast on their flesh. Some called them the Devils of the Wilderness as they tended to adapt themselves to almost any environment. Seeing it up close, Harry had an idea on how to at least slow it down. Aiming his wand just to the left of the creature Harry raised his voice. "Glacius!" The freezing hex struck the water that the creature was in and instantly began to turn the small body of water into a frozen pond. The creature, taking note of what was happening, uttered an ear shattering roar that left Harry momentarily disoriented, though not enough to keep him from seeing its wide arms swinging towards him again. Fearing that a strike from the Hishii's arm with all of its strength behind it would destroy his borrowed sword, Harry elected to rush forward, still casting the freezing spell all round him, his breath becoming visible in the cooling environment.

A glancing blow on the creature seemed to show the moss on its shoulder freezing, before the beast moved, the frozen vegetation breaking its bonds with the Hishii's body, revealing more of that troll-like flesh. Harry decided to blast the rest of its body with a larger fireball hex, burning off more of the moss and causing the beast to roar. Passing past the beast so as to force it to turn its huge body around, he continued to cast fireball and freezing charms towards the creatures surroundings, lighting the treetops on fire whilst freezing the ground. The strategy worked as the creature slipped as it pulled its body out of the freezing water, the falling tree limbs blinding it or setting more of the protective moss on fire. Getting a small breather, Harry pulled open a healing vial and dipped his finger inside, before rubbing the viscous liquid into his bloodied ear. He knew it would take some time for his hearing to return to normal, so the ringing in his ears was probably going to stick around for a bit, as he promised himself to search for spells designed to protect one's ears. Considering how often wizards worked at Dragon Reserves, he was sure they had to have developed something. As the Arena's air grew thick with smoke, Harry pulled up the scarf he was now keeping around his neck at all times, just in case he was forced to deal with another toxic creature if his bubble-head charm failed. Seeing the beast struggling to see him made Harry smile a bit. A beast used to bogs would know how to handle earth and water, but fire not so much and as far as he knew there was no indication that they ever struck out in winter, meaning they didn't manage ice all that well. So far, that thick layer of moss had been protecting it from both forms of elemental magic. Now, though, most of it was gone, so it was time to see how truly effective its magic resistance was.

Blasting the creature repeatedly with fireballs angered the Hishii as Harry moved in closer to its body, knowing that the best he could hope for was damage to its senses as these had the weakest protection, his own slowly repairing ears being a prime example. However, he knew that to complete the task, he needed to incapacitate the Hishii, so he drew closer, before taking advantage of its decision to roar at him, possibly hoping to disorient him again long enough so that it could injure Harry with its long arms, though the young wizard managed to blast it's face with a freezing charm. As the Hishii clawed at its face to remove the thick layer of ice, Harry managed to reach its back, before jamming his sword into its waist, guessing correctly that the area had thinner skin and less bones to prevent a deep enough cut. The creature roared in pain and swung around with its arm, taking Harry by surprise by how quickly it was able to turn its upper body, the swing launching him into a smoldering tree, knocking the breath out of him as he felt his ribs, back and thighs had either been bruised or cracked. Wincing in pain as he stood back up, he dodged a downward swing that would have left him a puddle of bone, flesh and blood on the ground, before casting an Aguamenti spell at the beast's legs, following it quickly with a Glacius. With the added water acting as a bridge, the beast found its legs quickly frozen into place, its face quickly blinded by fireball blasts as Harry made his way back to where he had injured it with his sword. Finding the wound, Harry jammed the Elder Wand inside and summoned as much magic as he could into the wand. "Glacius!" The creature howled in pain for a second before it went silent, as the once mostly spell resistant skin was covered in a thickening layer of ice, its body growing still in place as bone, flesh and blood was frozen solid.

Harry pulled the wand away, breathing heavily, before casting Aguamenti all around him to douse the flames that had kept the forest lit up as the Goblins waited silently. He heard gates opening and watched as Goblin Guards accompanied the Beast Handlers and Healers into the Arena, the latter coming up to him as they bid him to sit on a trunk that had toppled over. As they checked and uttered magic that improved his hearing considerably and removed what remained of the ringing in his ears, he watched as Golstrud approached the Handlers, the goblins discussing the situation in hushed tones, before Golstrud waved towards the VIP area of the Arena's spectator stands. Ragnar's voice soon filled the air. "It would seem that Mr Potter has successfully completed his Third Trial with an impressive display of situational awareness and an excellent out of the box solution for handling a beast with magically resistant skin. Congratulations, Challenger Potter!" The Arena burst into cheers as Golstrud approached him. "Well, you certainly know how to vary your victories. Had you used this strategy against the Wyrms, we could have had some decent meat in storage." Harry lowered his head. "Yeah, sorry about that." Golstrud's face quickly turned into a pleased smile. "Though your incapacitation of the Hishii was a welcomed surprise." Looking over his shoulder to the creature as the Handlers chipped away at the ice that kept it frozen in place, he elaborated. "As a creature of the Arctic, the Hishii are not unfamiliar with the cold though they cannot operate under cold conditions, which leaves them in a hibernative state. Freezing them does not kill them, but it does render them incapable of fighting back, hence your victory tonight. Our Goblin Districts in the north will be pleased that one of its guardian creatures will be returned alive."

The news had made Harry smile as he never delighted in the taking of lives, no matter what form it took, though that thought was accompanied by another that didn't seem to agree. Excusing himself after the Healers had done all they could, Harry returned to his room, before drawing the Elder Wand, now being able to sense that the wayward thought had come from it. "We do not kill needlessly." His statement had the expected result as the odd consciousness made its opinion known in his head that death made victory a certainty. Harry shook his head. "That may be but we will only kill when it's absolutely necessary, understand?" As he waited for the wand to respond, Harry was surprised when he sense two other sets of consciousness in his mind, one seemingly satisfied with the decision whilst the other seemed to enjoy their Master imposing its will on the Wand, who didn't take kindly to that as the two consciousnesses started bickering in his head, leaving Harry and the other one as spectators. Even today, as he stared at the Goblins celebrating the return of joy to the world, Harry could still feel the consciousness of the Hallows, all three of them, in the back of his mind, all of them experiencing the world through his eyes for the first time. It meant that he had to endure the Wand's constant thoughts on the best way to kill the people around him, with the Stone at times siding with Harry when he exerted his will and

at other times saying that death was nothing to fear as it wasn't an end, whilst the Cloak simply took everything in, maintaining an awareness of the world around him that even astounded Harry.

While the presence of three other consciousnesses born from the Hallows made for some odd moments where Harry was never alone in his own thoughts, having them there actually eased some of the loneliness that had taken root in heart. Soon enough he would have spent a whole year with the goblins, without any contact with the outside world. Sure, he had written a letter to Hermione before starting his sentence, but he knew better than to expect a reply and truthfully didn't want any. He didn't want to hear about what was happening outside, beyond the vain hope that his friends and acquaintances were doing well without him. Not having Hermione or Luna to talk to had made every day since his entrance into the Goblin District of Gringotts Londinium feel quite empty for him, at least until the Hallows made their awareness known. Having them with him, talking amongst themselves, at times bickering like siblings or commenting playfully like children, lightened his mood and made his work days at the mines all the more bearable, something the Hallows were all too well aware of and were quite happy to do for him. He was their Master and as such he was as much theirs to care for as they were his to look after. As far as they were concerned, they would make sure that he never truly felt alone and would do their part to not only ease his burdens but even protect him when necessary. Harry wasn't sure how they planned to accomplish the latter but the certainty in all three of their thoughts dispelled any doubt in his that they meant it, a smile breaking out across his face, glad that even in what amounted to a punishment for his crimes, he found some measure of the companionship he always wanted. For now, it would be more than enough.

Present Day

"Greetings ladies and gentlemen. We thank you for your patience whilst our Potion Master got everything settled. If you would all follow me, we can get this demonstration underway." François fell into step with his fellow directors as they all left the small meeting room that Fueruk had set aside for them on this day. As the sudden appearance of the Directors of three Ministry Departments, as well as two of the administrators for the Paris Potions Institute, would certainly have drawn too much unwanted attention and eventual investigations by the press, the decision was made for them to arrive at the bank in intervals, before being escorted into the back offices. Once everyone was gathered, they only ended up waiting a few minutes before Director Fueruk and his Goblin Guards began escorting them to Gringotts' Potions Lab, with the two other Potion Masters talking excitedly about the documents they had received. Gringotts had apparently agreed to re-registering the new Wolfsbane Potion with the ICW under a license, but only after the agreement was green lit by the ICW's Contract Office, as they would be incharge of enforcing it. François had heard that the agreement would include royalties from the sale of the potion, which would fall under the purview of each Ministry of Magic or comparable Magical government, though the ICW Contract Office did have the authorization to verify that the payments were being made. He wasn't happy that the Ministry might end up paying more than they had hoped for, but neither he nor the other Directors and Representatives had seen the new documents.

Arriving at suitably reinforced metal doors, the guards took their positions on the sides before pulling them open, allowing the guests to enter the lab. As they entered, the air already felt hot and humid, as was common in most Potions Labs with active brewing cauldrons. What surprised everyone was the fact that there were several cauldrons all burning in series with Goblins inspecting them carefully, all under the supervision of a single figure, a woman with long black hair that had it currently tied in a thick ponytail and then wrapped in a hair net, whilst her clothes were concealed by a white lab coat buttoned up to her chest. Director Fueruk walked up to her and bowed slightly, surprising everyone by the unusual show of respect. "Our guests are here, my lady." Piercing green eyes briefly looked over at the gathered observers, before the woman turned to Fueruk and offered him an equally respectful bow. "Thank you, Viceroy, and as ever my apologies for the inconvenience." Turning around fully, Elysia gestured towards the table next to her. "I apologize for speaking in English, but my French is conversational at best and not suited for a proper explanation of the intricate processes of Potioneering. For my fellow Potions Masters from the Paris Potions Institute, as well as any curious observers, you will find on the table the full ingredients list and the corresponding samples, all of which are sealed within vials and properly labeled. Director Poirier will note that all of the ingredients can be easily sourced in Europe, Northern Eurasia and North America, though as I am sure you are all aware, there are not enough supplies to accommodate the market just yet."

The Potions Masters and Poirier did indeed inspect the ingredients, reading from a list that had been left on the table next to them, with the Potions Masters noting how finely processed the ingredients were, whilst François focused his attention on the woman making the presentation. She was young, perhaps younger than his daughter Fleur, with fair skin that didn't seem to get too much nor too little sun, a black and red scarf wrapped around her neck, her accent as she spoke English being clearly British, though there was an undertone of another. It was when the Goblin attendants talked to each other that François realized that her English had an almost Goblin accent, meaning she had spent quite some time only interacting with the diminutive creatures. Her poise was a mixture of rigid and relaxed that he found was very common among Aurors, meaning she was probably well trained in Defence. As she kept an eye on her pocket watch, she suddenly turned her attention to the gathered observers. "Very well, let's make our way to the cauldrons. Please note that none of the ones being used here are either Pewter or Silver lined, as I have found that both interfere with the brewing process of this potion variant. It is also recommended that the cauldrons are never used to brew anything with silver as either an ingredient or a rod material, as trace elements could adversely affect the patients and, unless one does an incredibly thorough cleaning, traces will still linger. Now, you will want to get the water to boil at…"

As the woman explained the brewing process, François noticed just how organized she was. Each cauldron had been perfectly timed so that when the observers were finished inspecting one part of the process, the other process was ready to be initiated in the next cauldron over, meaning this Potions Master had an excellent grasp of time management and control over her products. Once they reached the final cauldron, he watched as she used thick gloves to lift it out of the fire and placed the cauldron into an ice bath. "I personally find that once the potion has stabilized, cooling it in an ice bath allows for a faster turnover rate when filling up potion vials. As for the longevity of the potions themselves, we have determined that they can survive a full year of lunar cycles in room temperature cupboards. Constant exposure to high temperature and or light will decrease its shelflife to six months, with lower temperatures having no effect. Once the potion is exposed to a thirteenth full moon or it has not been stored properly, you will notice the color turn from a bright golden translucent liquid to a brownish murkish sludge." Taking a ladle, the young woman filled up one of the empty vials with the warm golden liquid before passing the mug sized containers along to the other Potion Masters, the elder of the two holding it up to the light. "By the gods, there is hardly any solid residue in this, if there even is a single spec." François noticed the woman's cheeks growing red slightly as she handed everyone vials. She then tapped the large cauldron with her ladle. "By the portion sizes you are holding, a cauldron of this size can provide half the usual Were pack with the new Wolfsbane potion, but thanks to their long shelf life, there is the possibility to have a steady supply among the Werewolf communities, as soon as the material supply is sorted."

As the Potions Masters crowded the woman, bombarding her with questions, François noticed Director Fueruk approaching him and the other observers, handing them several stacks of papers. "My dear Lady and I went through the trouble of drafting this license and royalties agreement before today. I am sure you would be thinking about altering it but as far as Gringotts is concerned, this is the best offer you will get from us." As the present directors looked them over, with Poirier and Bashir pointing out that they were happy about the viability of schools and hospitals being able to produce the potion for educational and internal use at no extra cost, the ICW representative from the Contract Office looked stunned. "Director Fueruk, I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but the amount you are asking from royalties gathered from the regulated potions market is… lower than what I had expected." The Goblin Viceroy of Gringotts Parision chuckled. "No, the amount is correct. It may seem low on a dose by dose basis, but considering the size of the Were population in Europe, the Americas and Australia, we are confident that we will earn a respectable sum." The young woman then raised her voice so that she could be heard from her place in the chamber by all. "And while I intend to profit from my work, it will not be at the expense of those who need the potions the most. Gringotts and I are only requesting our fair share, nothing more, nothing less." The ICW woman, who had a hispanic accent, nodded. "Well, if that matter is indeed correct, then the license agreement is viable and enforceable by my office in every member state. All that would be left would be the signatures."

After everyone, including Delacour, had inspected the agreement and indeed found the royalty percentage per dose sold to be acceptable, the primary contract was opened up, with the ICW representative signing it, François adding his signature as a witness, followed by Director Fueruk as the Potion Master's business partner and legal representative. All eyes then turned to the young raven haired woman, who was wiping her hand clean after having removed the gloves she had been using during the demonstration. François noticed her hesitation as the blood quill was presented to her but after taking a deep breath to center herself, the woman leaned over the desk and signed her name on the dotted line, crossing over the final line in order to sever the connection of her magic as everyone else had done. With all the signatures filled in, the contract flared before it soon became four copies, one kept by Fueruk, one by the ICW Contracts Office, one handed to Delacour to deliver to France's Magical Registry, with the last one handed to the young woman, her eyes remaining glued onto the section that she had signed, after which she wished everyone a good day, the woman taking off her lab coat, revealing a black dress shirt and pants, before handing the coat to the lab techs on her way out. Puzzled by her behaviour, François looked at the page with the signatures, reading her name to himself. "Elysia…Peverell?" Though the name didn't mean anything to him, it definitely caught the attention of one of the Paris Potions Institute administrators. "Wait, did you say her family name was Peverell?" The surprise and hint of fear on the man's voice made Delacour look at the name again, making a mental note to look up who this mysterious Potion Master was and why her name would have such a reaction on those that knew it.

Chapter 8: Finding Yourself

"Easy, Mademoiselle Delacour. When an Abraxas is due to give birth, you must be very careful not to startle them. They will not hesitate to kick as hard as possible to save themselves and their fouls. Always approach from where they can see you." Gabrielle nodded as she brought the basin filled with warm water and a cloth closer as Professor d'Este took the towel and washed the mare's mammaries, his brow wrinkled in frustration as the Abraxas had apparently gone into labor but was going on for longer than expected. He kept an eye on the tower clock that was facing their direction, as he had brought the Mare outside as it was safer for them to deliver out on the grass and away from the other Abraxas in their stalls, as the cramped space might make them even more stressed out. Gabrielle had been in her room preparing for her first class of the day when one of the Beauxbatons elves apparated into the room and told her to head for the stables immediately. The professor had been aware that the Mare would be delivering its foul soon and had been planning to involve Gabrielle in its delivery, no matter when it would take place. He had been instructing her on all the symptoms usually associated with the approaching event as seen on the Mare's behaviour and the physical changes of the creature's body as she prepared to feed milk to her infant. Seeing the professor's growing concern, however, told Gabrielle that this was unlikely to be what he called a "sit back and observe" type of delivery. This was made all the more evident when the Abraxas began to shift in its laid down position as the Professor checked the progress.

He bit back a curse. "Well, the good news is that the foal is finally coming out. The bad news is that it's feet are in the wrong position and I am not liking the color of the membrane. Cast a confundus and get her to calm down, I am going to need you with me to deliver the foul quickly before it suffocates." Gabrielle tried the confundus charm a few times but the Abraxas mother-to-be just kept shaking it off. "It's not working. She keeps breaking out of it!" Estous grumbled. "Of course she is. Damn it, Bianca, why did you have to be so stubborn." Gabrielle stared at the Abraxas mare for a second, biting her lip, before she tried something her cousin, a Carer by trade, had told her about the Allure. Gently caressing the Mare's head, she grabbed as much control over her body's natural magic and began releasing it into the Mare. "Please, for your foul's sake, you need to calm down and let us help you." Bianca stared at her briefly before seemingly relaxing, with d'Este going still for a second. "Damn, young lady, that worked well. Now come on back here. We need to gently get the foul out quickly." Adding a bit more of her Allure magic to Bianca, Gabrielle maintained the connection between her and the mare as she walked around her seated form, before helping out the professor. She apologized to Bianca as she reached for the foul's membrane covered legs and, with d'Este helping to relax the mare's muscles, the two of them managed to get the foul out of her mother, the limp form covered in the reddish membrane. Taking the offered knife from the Professor, she tore into the compromised placenta, freeing the foul. She followed her Healer's training and checked to see if the foul was breathing.

When Gabrielle felt the little creature's lungs expand and contract repeatedly as it sought to recover what oxygen it had been denied during the delivery, she smiled. "He is going to be fine now." Estous leaned over to confirm, a smile forming on his face. "Yes, I believe he will." He then looked over at the mare. "Unfortunately, this is only part of the process. It's Bianca's turn to receive our full attention." Letting the foul get his bearings, the two of them checked on the mare, with Estous gesturing towards Bianca's hindquarters. "Once the rest of the placenta is out, use the standard all purpose healing spell on her to repair some of the tearing from the forced evacuation of her child." Since the placenta could take up to three hours to be evacuated from the mare, Professor d'Este sent word to Gabrielle's teachers that she would be indisposed for a while, before joining her next to the stables as they watched as the new mother, who had turned around to lie next to her baby, bonded with her child, cleaning it up with her tongue. Estous looked at Gabrielle and how she seemed entranced with the sight. "How are you feeling?" Gabrielle snapped out of her thoughts before she wrapped her arms around her waist. "I… am feeling great. That… you don't usually cover any of that in the Care class." Estous chuckled. "No, I don't suppose we do. The basics of magical creature reproduction and care are mentioned but not studied. Even when preparing for a Mastery in Care of Magical Creatures, the care needed for them before, during and after a birth is hardly ever the focus." Gabrielle looked at her professor. "But… why? It's such an important part of any creature's life cycle."

Her professor nodded as he ran his hand over his sweaty, short sandy blonde hair, after both he and his student had washed their hands as they waited on Bianca to expel the placenta. "True, it is important, but the question then becomes what sort of career does a specialist in care see for themselves. Most will often dedicate themselves to a single breed of magical creature, whether its dragons, unicorns, salamanders and so on. In those cases, they learn what they need to know about that one particular creature's reproductive cycles and that's it. In the case for those seeking to teach the subject matter to others, like myself, the knowledge becomes a bit more necessary, but only in as far as caring for the creatures long enough for the students to interact with them. I learned how to manage Abraxas births thanks to the fact that the school houses a herd on campus for the entire year. I also have some experience with owls, other birds, cats and dogs because of the fact that I tend to be the one the students turn to when their familiars are ill." Gabrielle frowned, recalling something that she had read about from her father's library. "The non-magical population… they have something called… veterinarians, healers who specialize in the care and healing of animals, not humans. Do we not have an equivalent profession?" D'Este raised an eyebrow at her but answered her query. "We do, but the issue is that there is no apprenticeship or course work specifically prepared to lead a person to that career. The ICW has developed a post-NEWTs curriculum and preparation necessary for a Mastery in what they call Magical Creature Healers, but because no academy other than Ilvermony has the means to prepare a student for it, the population of actual MCHs in the world is quite small."

He gestured at the mother and her infant. "That is then compounded by the fact that, unlike Handlers or Breeders, who are needed constantly on the job, MCHs get paid by commission, whenever their services are needed. It's not an unnecessary profession, as quite a few creature reserves often see several of their herds lose a few creatures from injuries that an MCH could handle, let alone when a delivery goes wrong like it almost did with Bianca, but most managers just…take it as an acceptable loss." Gabrielle narrowed her eyes. "I don't agree with that. If an animal is hurt, we should do everything possible to give it a chance to recover, particularly if they are already being forced to live in managed enclosures and properties." Estous smiled. "I don't disagree, but the profession, because it is financed by commissions, is often considered an expensive one to prepare for, with a low source of income once certified. Veterinarians in the non-magical world have the ability to finance themselves well because of the higher population of animals kept as pets and their non-magical condition making them more predisposed to suffering serious injuries. With our population being more spread out, even if there is a need for MCHs, they just wouldn't be able to make as much of a living, especially if they raised their commision prices to compensate." Gabrielle looked at the two creatures before resting in the morning sun. "Even so… I think it's a worthy pursuit." A smile grew on her face. "One I would like to try. Is there any way you'd be able to help me?"

The professor rubbed his full shortly trimmed beard and mustache. "Well, you do have the necessary courses in Care and Healing, so that shouldn't be a problem. The issue would be with lodging. As there is no Mastery course for Magical Creature Healers offered by Beauxbatons and they also don't have it as a possible apprenticeship position, I would have to register you as an Intern in the Care for Magical Creatures department. You would essentially be doing a lot of self study as you read up on as many magical creatures and the best means to heal, treat or assist them in recovery as possible, with you being on call whenever a familiar or one of the creatures under my care has need for a Healer's talents. As an Intern, however, you wouldn't be granted permission to lodge in the staff quarters of the Academy, so you would have to look for lodging nearby, as medical emergencies require speedy responses, especially if you are to be contacted by letters and owls. Had the new village been completed by now, I would have suggested staying at the Inn they will have, but right now the construction is only being carried out on the Gringotts branch bank." Gabrielle was quiet for a moment, the bells at the clocktower informing everyone that the next class was due to start soon. "I will see what I can do about lodging, but after everything that I have seen… This… helping out magical creatures in need, whatever form that aid may take or what creature I am to care for, this is what feels right to me." Her professor smiled at her. "Trust me, Mademoiselle Delacour, I know the feeling all too well. I will let Olympe know about the internship and submit a curriculum and reading list request to the ICW so I can pass it along to you. Being a Magical Creature Healer won't be an easy career for you, Mademoiselle, but I believe you are the right person for it." Gabrielle nodded to herself. "As do I."

Londinium District, June 1999

As the two Goblins talked amongst themselves, they heard someone knocking on the door to Ragnar's office. The Viceroy straightened himself out on his chair and waited for Golstrud to stand at attention beside him, before offering a brisk "Enter." As expected, the door opened to reveal Harry Potter, who was certainly looking worse for wear. His right cheek sported a bandage that concealed a healing clawmark, his left arm was currently in a sling as the bones within them were currently healing after enduring a bite that every single Goblin in observance, particularly Ragnar himself, winced at, and his steps were stiff as the claw and puncture marks that covered him abdomen and legs healed up as well. Still, the young man retained his manners, bowing to Ragnar with the expected depth. "You wished to see me, Viceroy Ragnar, Nundu Slayer?" The head of Gringotts Londinium smiled. "Indeed I did, Challenger Potter, Nundu Slayer." Harry winced slightly after asking permission to sit down. "If I may be so bold, that Trial almost ended up being a bloody draw." Ragnar waved his hand. "As someone who faced the same beast and survived, I can guarantee you that it is always like that when facing a mature Nundu. The young ones may be tamable but after a certain point they are more than capable of killing even their most dedicated minders. I am sure you feel troubled by the fact that you slayed the beast, but worry not. The Nundu you fought was already slated to be put down after it slew and devoured its handlers in Africa. We acquired it under the condition that the beast would be killed and whilst we were ready to carry that out after the Trial, your disposal of it was acceptable. If the creature had a warrior or a hunter's soul, it would have died proudly, facing a prey far too stubborn to die."

Harry chuckled bitterly. "Yeah, that's me. Too stubborn to die." When Harry had walked into the Arena for said Task, he had initially been concerned about the environment. Some of it felt similar to his Heshii encounter, with the tall leaf canopy and humid air. The difference this time around was the glaring heat of their artificial sun, particularly to a somewhat heavily clothed Harry. It had taken him a moment to try and guess what sort of beast he would face, but as he took a few steps through the trees and spotted a boulder that was crisscrossed by the light of the tree branches up above, he had felt as if his stomach was suddenly filled with lead. He had more awareness about this creature because of his research into the Goblins after seeing the skull in Ragnar's office. Realizing that the forest presented a bigger danger to him and his survival so long as it stood standing, Harry had covered his face with a Bubble-head Charm and started clearing out an area by cutting the trees and banishing them further away, before lighting everything on fire. The strategy had its fair share of dangers but Harry knew better than to face a Nundu, infamous for its camouflaging capabilities, in an environment that favored it. His strategy worked in that the Nundu did indeed lose its ability to stalk him through the treeline. Unfortunately, the beast rushed towards him at a speed that made striking him with precision based spells almost impossible, the large grey feline sinking its claws into Harry's thighs, despite the thin leather armour he wore, though Harry was sure he avoided potentially bleeding out because of it. With the beast quickly turning around, the young wizard barely got some extra time by banishing it back a few feet, though it was enough for him to smash a healing vial onto his thigh, beginning the healing process.

Whether that brief second spent healing himself was wise or not ceased to be a pressing question as the beast charged him again. Trying a wider area of attack, Harry unleashed cutting hexes at it, seeing the feline struggle with an impact before its momentum still carried him right past Harry, leaving claw marks on the young man's other thigh. Worried about losing a battle of attrition against a more physically imposing creature, Harry changed strategy. Since the beast had escaped the burning forest, he unleashed jets of flames from the Elder Wand, a few times accurately predicting where the beast would be, causing the Nundu to scream in pain and rage. Seeing the beast rushing past some distance away, Harry tried to heal his other thigh, only for the creature to charge at him again. Trying to blast him point blank with fire, Harry soon discovered that the Nundu's most deadly weapon was itself resistant to fire, as the beast's inflatable mane was suddenly filled up like a balloon, causing some of the spikes that had previously lain flat on its back like razor sharp armoured plates to be launched out towards the front. Said spikes covered Harry's legs and abdomen, though he managed to dodge all the ones heading for his head but one that graced his cheek, popping the charm that kept Harry safe from the smoke his fires had created. That smoke soon ceased being a concern as the Nundu opened its maw and unleashed a torrent of deadly gas at Harry. In the time it took him to pulled up the enchanted scarf around his neck to cover his mouth and nose, the Nundu had knocked him onto the ground, causing him to inhale more of the deadly gasses, especially as that maw clamped down on his left arm hard, snapping through the armour, muscles and bones with great ease.

Thinking with his training in mind, he drew the knife he carried with him and stabbed the creature repeatedly with it as it continued to maul his arm, getting nothing for his efforts. Feeling his lungs burning and his vision narrowing down, Harry focused on the Elder Wand, which had been launched some distance away during the initial impact, feeling it suddenly return to his hand, before aiming it right at the creature's head. At this distance and in this situation, precision was no longer an issue, the only problem being dealing a devastating enough blow, hence why he used a curse he hadn't uttered in years. "Sectumsempra!" Snape's cutting curse tore through the creature with such force that it roared in agony, releasing Harry from its grip, before the young man kicked the creature away from him. Surrounded by a burning jungle in the middle of the Arena, both Harry and the beast were soon left on all fours, blood pumping out of them at a deadly rate. After an unsteady breath through the shall, Harry looked at the Nundu and found the large feline staring back at him before its eyes lost focus and its legs gave out. Harry managed to turn over and began pulling vials out of his vest pockets as Ragnar declared him the victor, the bright red liquid of a blood replenishing potion adding to the blood in his mouth as he tried to keep himself alive long enough for the Goblin Healers to reach him. According to them, it was a good thing he did that, as he had been a few seconds away from death by blood loss, though the Hallows in his head disagreed. He decided to just leave the matter of how close he came to death again alone and focused instead on healing from the myriad of wounds that the Nudu had inflicted upon him. At least he had ample reason to not show up at the mine and instead continue on with his studies and research, when he wasn't passed out that was.

Getting back into the moment, Harry looked at the two Goblins. "So, what do you need from me?" Ragnar's typical smile turned pained. "Today, I am afraid, we are here to deliver you some unpleasant news. Golstrud?" The viceroy's attendant stepped up and read from the papers in his hands. "As you know, you were subjected to a full medical examination after your exposure to Nundu toxins. The examination revealed several anomalies, hence why you were subject to other tests, such as checking your hair and mind. What we found was… appalling." Harry sighed. "If this is about my malnutrition as a resident of my aunt's home, then you don't have to worry. I am well aware that I have probably suffered some long term effects over it." Ragnar pursed his lips. "We Goblins treasure all children, even wand wavers, for they are the Earth Mother's most valuable and ethereal treasure any being can ever receive. For you to have been poorly fed is… But no, Challenger Potter, that is not the most troubling discovery our Healers found." Golstrud adjusted his lenses. "Our Healers found prolonged exposure to potions in your system. As an aspiring Potioneer, you know that potions leave residue in those who take them. This residue can be measured to determine what sort of potions were taken over how long a period of time. In your case, Challenger Potter… you were exposed to behavioural altering potions, some of which are only supposed to be used on mental patients under strict supervision. These include potions designed to hinder critical thought, emphasize reaction over forethought, engender distrust of authority figures, enhance trust in certain individuals, suppression of libido and desire for physical relations and a heightened aversion to killing. Some were introduced at a later time, such as the suppression of your instincts to find a suitable mate, while others were clearly in your system for years… Challenger Potter? Harry?"

As Golstrud tried to reach him, with even Ragnar calling out to him, all Harry could do was stare, his eyes unfocused as he tried, trying so desperately to see these changes taking place in his life. His life as Dudley's punching bag and his primary school's designated weirdo hadn't instilled in him the greatest sense of trust in any authority figures, but even he could see with hindsight that his trust in the Headmaster had been strong, even bordering on devotion. He remembered his first crushes on Cho and Hermione, but those just suddenly deflated, as if all his building desires had been suppressed, followed quickly by a surging, almost incompressible desire for Ginny, before that too died out when… when he died. In that moment, when he had been the Master of all three Hallows and he had set foot into that ethereal King's Cross Station, where he was visited by what he had thought was Dumbledore but could potentially have been something else, either an after effect of the potions or some… thing using the best possible candidate in his mind to give Harry words of wisdom that he would heed. He could remember how he had initially trusted the Ministry to handle the growing Death Eater threat before that desire had died out, though Cornelius Fudge's corruption and Umbridge's warped vision of the world didn't really help matters. Every choice he had ever made, every friend he had grown closer to and every enemy he had faced… his memories of them had all been warped by these potions. He hadn't just been Dumbledore's pig for slaughter… he had been his puppet, pulled along on strings he couldn't see, until finally the play had ended and he had just been… tossed aside. The only real decisions he made as far as he did probably had been because of his friendship with Hermione that started on the train… and the choice to come back to life.

Harry felt his magic flare as the three other entities in his mind waited patiently, the Wand itching to be awakened, the Stone anticipating that some dead fools would be drawn back from death to suffer for their misdeeds. And those thoughts tempted Harry oh so much. The very idea that he could force Dumbledore to reveal his every manipulation, to pay him back for every single one at Harry's hand in full. He could practically taste the sweetness of the revenge as the Cloak watched him dispassionately. As his eyes registered where he was, however, his rage died down and his magic fell back under control. He took tentative deep breaths, clamping down on the emotions that the revelations had engendered in him. He could feel the Stone and the Wand still whispering in his mind but he silenced them both. Whatever he had become as the Master of the Hallows, he would not abuse that power. He would not become like Dumbledore, taking every position of power he could and manipulating it for his own ends. He would not become like Voldemort, taking out his frustration on any one or anything that angered him simply to satisfy his wounded pride. Harry was better than that. He could make the right choices, not because of some potions in his system, but because he genuinely believed it to be the right choice in the first place. The dead deserved their fate and he would not abuse it by inflicting upon them his own vengeance. And the living? Those who had taken advantage of his trust and had strung him along on Dumbledore's orders? They could have their British Magical Society as it slid right back into the anarchy of their own making. Harry would leave them all to their fate in order to fulfill his current, all consuming desire. To live, and to do so on his own bloody terms.

Rubbing his face, Harry looked at the two quiet Goblins, lowering his eyes. "My apologies, Viceroy Ragnar, Attendant Golstrud. Your revelations caused me to lose control for a moment. Thank you, for letting me know about the betrayals committed against me by the very people I should have been able to trust. Is there anything else you need from me?" Ragnar gave him an understanding smile, speaking at a softer tone than anyone ever remembered hearing from him. "No, that will be all for now, Challenger Potter. Heal, recover your strength and perhaps continue your studies. The Arena will wait until you are ready to try again." As soon as the door was closed, Golstrud turned to his Viceroy. "You didn't tell him about the other matter." Ragnar looked at his attendant. "No, I did not. You saw how he reacted to his being manipulated by potions into becoming Dumbledore's ideal pawn. The young mage needs time to recover from that, before we tell him about his unusual biological state." Golstrud lowered his eyes. "I agree that today it may have been too much for him to handle. We just destroyed his recollection of events stemming back seven years and that display of magical power… Still, we should not delay too much with his natural condition. If he were to define himself too rigidly before he discovers what he could become, it may cause him even greater pain down the road." Ragnar nodded. "I know. We will tell him soon, you have my word on that, so the young challenger can truly perceive all the paths open before him. Now, if you excuse me, I need to inform the King." Golstrud stared at Ragnar. "His Majesty has already taken an interest?"

Ragnar smiled as he stood up from his chair. "Challenger Potter has completed four of twelve tasks in a single year. He will certainly fail to maintain that momentum in the coming trials, but it is still an extraordinary achievement. His Majesty is curious as to the potential of this Challenger and wishes to be informed as to his progress. He will, of course, be present during the Sixth Task to personally observe his performance. After all, should he truly succeed in all twelve tasks and become a Champion of the Arena, he will be the first in centuries to achieve it." Golstrud raised an eyebrow. "Should he choose to remain a "he."" Ragnar nodded. "Indeed. Now, let us be off. Fueruk has been most frustrating lately about his successful government contracts for mining rights in the Guiana Highlands. It will be frustrating to hear him gloat all day so I will need to get some drinks in me." As the Goblins prepared to travel, Harry returned to his room and sat in his bed, staring at his hands, trying to look back at his life, doubting every choice he ever made, if they were even his to begin with. "Who am I?" His question was answered only by silence as even the Hallows refused to answer, though he could feel all of them in the back of his mind, trying to soothe him, giving him a sense that whatever he became, they would be with him. Tears escaped his eyes as he threw himself onto the bed, overjoyed by the Hallows staying with him, but still feeling oppressed by the question that he had no answer to. "Who am I?"

Present Day

"Husband? Are you coming to bed?" François blinked before finding his wife's face looking at him with concern, as he had remained in his office within his home late into the evening. The last few weeks since the Easter holidays had been a swirl of activity in the Ministry of Magic. The leadership of the Werewolf packs of the country had been summoned to a meeting where the new potion was discussed and how quickly the nation's apothecaries would be able to roll it out for all of their citizens. This was part of a global initiative being taken by the ICW as news of the potion had been growing through the Were packs, even those outside of France's borders. The release of the currently available data gathered by Gringotts over the better part of a year to the magical medical facilities of the world had been received with incredible enthusiasm, though the sector that produced the Wolfsbane plant was frustrated as they were already growing a new batch of the previous potion's plant. To no one's surprise, those groweries associated with Gringotts already had a head start as they had been switching out their Wolfsbane for Yellow Monkshood and these initial supplies would be going to each nation's Magical Malady Research Hospitals so they too could begin clinical trials on the potions. This meant that as Director Fueruk had established, the Weres wouldn't have access to the potion immediately. Thankfully, however, the leadership of the packs had been understanding and a few had agreed to continue taking the old Wolfsbane Potion until the new one was widespread enough to replace it, though a few had opted to not take any potion at all, some even being former potion users. The Ministry had agreed to deploy Aurors from the Dark Denizen Division to more areas to keep the transformed Weres away from any potential sentient victims.

This global attention to the new potion had also resulted in the exposure of its inventor, Elysia Peverell, though it was probably below the level that the Potioneers of the world would have liked. The samples submitted to the ICW and that had been dispersed along with the recipe to the Potion Institutes of the world had been lauded as some of the finest products the community had ever seen, with few imperfections present, if any existed at all. Attempts to request her presence at any of the major gatherings of Potioneers and Healer symposiums had all been rejected as of right now, with Gringotts Paris declaring that Elysia Peverell was a deeply private person that wasn't fond of the social element of her profession. Quite a few Potions Masters bemoaned the appearance of what they termed the second coming of Severus Snape, as the youngest Potion Master in the world had never participated in any international gatherings at all as well. Considering that Severus Snape had been found to have been affiliated with the Death Eaters of Great Britain, even if he had supposedly acted as a double agent during his final days for Dumbledore's vigilante Order of the Phoenix, there was some concern that this unknown witch could also be part of some similar organizations, hence why François Delacour had requested all information related to her to be recompiled and delivered to his office. It had taken longer than expected for the files to arrive, and now that he had them before him, he could see why. The file surrounding the identity of Elysia Peverell was practically empty. Turning to look at his wife, François sighed. "Sorry, my dear. I will be with you soon."

Apolline, never one to be passive, rubbed his back before resting her neck on his shoulder. "What troubles you, my love. As far as your monthly report to the Convention said, the country was still enjoying a relatively peaceful period. You sure you weren't hiding anything from us?" Delecour turned to his wife and raised an eyebrow but her smile remained fixed on her face. As a representative, Apolline loved to tease him by suggesting that he wasn't following protocols, which he did to a degree that his Head Aurors wanted to strangle him for it, knowing full well that he would never do such a thing. Of course, if he was following protocol, he would have to explain to his wife what concerned him or she would just keep pestering him. He sighed in resignation, which only made his wife smile wider. He held up the papers in front of him. "You remember that new Wolfsbane potion that was discussed at the Convention? Well, I decided to run a check on the Potion Master's background and my contacts quite literally found nothing. No birth certificate, no school records, no criminal records. The only things on file are ICW NEWT examinations, her Potions Mastery, her registered citizenship and the potion patents that she has been registering like crazy in the last few months. Anything else lies within Gringotts' files and, as a sovereign nation separate from the ICW, they won't hand over information on one of their own citizens." Apolline froze for a second. "Did you say she was a citizen of the Goblin Nation?" Francois looked at her. "She is. Why?" Apolline went into deep thought. "The Veela and Goblins have a better relationship with each other and that has given us an insight into their culture. All I know is that Goblins only grant citizenship to those with Goblin blood… or those who have proven themselves in combat. This witch must be quite skilled and powerful to have not only survived what nightmares the Goblins expected of her, but to have earned their respect as well."

François looked back over the way that Fueruk interacted with the raven haired witch. "She has the trust of the Director of Gringotts Paris and referred to him almost like an equal, with him doing the same for her." Apolline shook her head. "Then you best leave this witch alone. Gringotts will protect one of their own with great zeal, even more so when it's someone even a Viceroy respects so highly. What's her name?" Francois held up the paper with her citizenship document and photo identification. "Elysia Peverell." Apolline stared at the image, the name ringing a bell in her head. "I am going to guess that the reaction of someone to her name was a deciding factor in you looking into her history." Francois eyed his wife. "You know something about the name Peverell? All I turned up was an old British Family that died out in the late thirteenth century." Apolline stood up and walked around her husband's desk. "They have some history on the Continent but I am not surprised it was suppressed. During the reign of Eleanor of Aquitaine, the Duchy became an English Dominion. The Veela Conclaves made provisions to remain neutral during the coming conflict but not every Magical Family in continental lands wanted to be subjected to the British crown. A Magical Family of great renown and skill came to… "negotiate" with the stubborn families. Those were the Peverells. They took some land in the region and began to approach the local communities. Some of the old magical families resented their encroachment and lashed out. In response… the Peverells slaughtered many of those who rose up, tearing down everything they had built and scorched the land with curses, preventing anything from being built there again for centuries. They seemingly died out before the outbreak of the Hundred Years War but the name still has some notoriety among those who were forced to rebuild their lives elsewhere."

The head of the Delacour family frowned. "I don't recall that being discussed in our histories." Apolline shrugged. "The French Magical Families didn't want to be reminded of their darkest hour, especially when most of France almost became part of Britain. When the British forces were pushed out of Aquitaine at the end of the war, the Magical France made sure to start their history books from there. As for the Veela Conclaves, we maintained our Neutrality and the Peverells treated us well. They even returned those daughters of ours that had been taken hostage by the French Aristocracy whether they rebelled against them or not. For that, we honoured their name and mourned their loss." François looked at the file. "So, any chance I need to be worried about this Peverell?" Apolline shrugged. "One never knows, though the male line did die out and if this descendant reclaim their legacy, they will likely live up to their name in some way. Now…" Apolline returned to François' side and slipped her hand into his shirt from the opening of his neck, her tone making her intentions quite clear. "This Veela may respect the Peverells and their legacy but I will not be having my husband lose sleep over this young witch who has done nothing to merit your attention. So let us retire to our bed tonight. Victoire is sleeping soundly with her mother and I have certain needs, husband." François saw the fire in her eyes and felt his body respond in kind. Even if the Allure held no sway over him, his wife's attitude and desire for him was an entirely different matter. He leaned forward and kissed her neck. "Very well. Let me lock all this up." Apolline pulled her hand away and moved towards the door, loosening her robes to give him a tease of what awaited him, which worked to motivate him to quickly stick the papers into the file and lock it into his desk drawer, before locking his office door and finally his bedroom door. He had no intention of embarrassing his daughter if she happened to walk by her parent's bedroom door. Not for the hundredth time, anyways.

"Ugh, finally! I don't want to read another line on Transfiguration again until the exam!" Gabrielle smiled at Adeline, before handing her the study sheets they had both made concerning their classes, as they would soon be taking their NEWT exams. Adeline looked at the sheets and then back at her friend. "I hate you." Gabrielle's smile grew wider. "Love you too." The two of them continued studying as they read through the major points of Professor d'Este's recent classes, before Adeline spoke up. "So, have you figured out where you are going to stay for the internship?" Gabrielle shook her head even as her eyes remained fixed on the papers in her hand. "No. I tried looking up regional magical districts but Toulouse has no vacancies, the closest ones are across the border in Spain and I wouldn't dare think how expensive the rent is in Marseille. None of the other nearby towns seemed to have any vacancies either." Adeline scratched her hair with her fountain pen. "That… might not be entirely true. I guess since your experiences with magical communities is either your home in Reims, Paris or any of the cities you mentioned, you don't know how close the smaller gatherings of magical people are. Like, back home in Saint-Cirq, none of the magical families would announce to outsiders that we have a place up for rent. So there might be towns who do have apartments or studios available for rent but, unless you have someone that lives there vouch for you, you would never get the chance to live there." Gabrielle leaned back and bit her pen. "I… never thought of it like that. I can see why the Academy has been dead set on making that new village nearby, then, if all the other communities are too closed off."

Adeline nodded. "Yeah, with how much more focused Headmistress Maxime has been on pushing the boundaries of what Beauxbatons can teach, having a village right next to the campus that lets interns, staffers and even family members just be a short walk away will be such a big improvement. Still, why do you have to be so close to the school? I mean, I know you can't just apparate in and out of here because of the wards and the distance, but a floo call and a portkey later and you're at the school as fast as possible." Gabrielle sighed. "Yeah, I mentioned that to the professor but he made a good point that I can't just be standing next to a Floo Terminal all day and neither can he. Eventually, I will be away from the nearest terminal and when that happens, it could take forever for someone to reach me. If, however, I am close enough to the school, an owl can deliver letters to me quickly. Being closer to the school will also help in my response time and that could mean the difference between a creature living or dying. If the village was already constructed, I would have just stayed there, but because it isn't I still need to find where I can stay." Adeline tapped her pen on the table. "I could try and see if anyone will have you rent out an apartment or studio back in my hometown. Saint-Cirq is close enough that any owl will deliver the letters quickly enough. I would have to vouch for you and everything but there might be some vacancies you could hopefully take up." Gabrielle looked at her dark skinned friend. "You sure? I wouldn't want to impose and, while my family was raised in Reims, I did visit a Veela Conclave often enough to know just how insular small communities can be."

She watched as her friend looked at her, her expression softening. "Look, you and I have been best friends for almost five years. We have had each other's backs since we were made roommates and while most people say that relationships that start at schools tend to fizzle out, I have no intention of letting that happen between us. You are my best friend, Gabrielle. If I can make your life a little easier by putting myself out there for you, I will." The young Veela felt her eyes grow misty before rubbing them clear. "Thank you, Adeline. That means a lot more than you can imagine. Though do try and remember that I am Veela and there are no wards that diminish the effect of the Allure. Even if there are vacancies, they may not be willing to let me have the place if I end up bringing trouble for the owners and the neighbors." Adeline grumbled. "Yeah… I forgot about that… but it doesn't matter. Once we are out of Beauxbatons and you have the free time, I will show you my hometown and give finding you a place a shot. By the way, since you are looking for a place to stay closer to the school, won't that make spending time with your family a bit harder?" Gabrielle shook her head. "No, not really. d'Este and I talked it over. I will let him know ahead of time when I will be at my family's place so that he calls through Floo rather than by owl and if we are heading out for a family gathering, I will let him know I will be fully indisposed. It's why I need a closer place to stay so that I cover as much of my available time as possible, otherwise I am just going to be missing out on emergencies like crazy." Adeline frowned. "What about a scrying mirror? Like the one I have?"

Gabrielle blinked in surprise. "Oh, right. Mom has one when she communicates with the Conclave as well, but she hasn't suggested it to me, probably because it's locked into specific mirrors. I wonder… does it work here in Beauxbatons?" Adeline sighed. "No, it doesn't. I tried to use it but all I see is my own reflection. I asked Madam Maxime and she apologized but the wards for the school were enhanced after Grindelwald occupied it. Because he had the ability to scry what was occuring in the school and had a few sympathetic students and staff members, he was able to capture Beauxbatons rather easily. All forms of scrying are blocked here. And mine is locked in with my mother's too. Still, you could look up and find out if you could get a sort of open scrying mirror, one that can receive calls more easily, even if it can't initiate calls itself. Since your job will have you going from houses, estates, ranches and reserves, having a portable way for someone to reach out to you and let you know of an emergency will come in more handy than an owl." Gabrielle smiled, as she pulled out a small notebook from her school coat pocket, writing down the information. "You are right, that would be my best option. And it would give my parents an easier way to communicate with me, though knowing my father and his job, I imagine he will have anti-scrying wards up around the house." Adeline shrugged. "Then tell him to step outside or make a room warded specifically to allow scrying in there while keeping the rest of the house warded." Nodding, Gabrielle added more to her notes, before continuing on with her studies, a smile plastered on her face as she felt that her possible career seemed all the more attainable, while also reveling in the fact that she had a true friend in Adeline. Like her, she swore to herself that she wouldn't let their friendship die out just because they drifted away in life. What they had was more than worth the extra effort it would take.

"Here you are, Mademoiselle. Always a pleasure." Elysia smiled as she took the fresh bread and slid it into her carrying bag, before taking a sip from her coffee whilst sitting in one of the open air bistros in the village of Saint-Cirq-Lapopie, pulling the newspaper to her to have a look. The headline made her heart ache as the article went into detail about how the Neo Death Eaters were now attacking the homes of first generation witches and wizards in Britain, killing the infants and their families, leaving their gruesome work for the DMLE to handle, if the local authorities didn't get to it first. The next page showed a member of the Ministry of Magic's Registry Office getting dragged away in chains as the DMLE suspected the witch of being the one to leak the addresses to the terrorists. The next page was an opinion piece questioning how soon would a New Blood Order retaliation manifest and how severe it could be as it was clear that the British Troubles were only escalating in violence. Shacklebolt, who still remained as Minister for Magic, was clearly trying to placate the situation, claiming that the families of "muggleborns" would be looked after in the wake of the Ministry's security breach. Elysia scoffed, tossing the paper onto the table as she drank from her coffee. She had heard all this before, during the previous conflict as the Death Eaters regained their strength under a resurrected Voldemort's leadership. The Ministry would claim to be doing something but, knowing them, it would just be a few paltry wards that any amateur could potentially bypass, and that was supposing the enemy didn't have experts or someone working as part of these same ward installation teams who wasn't a NDE sympathizer. Regardless, these "measures" would amount to nothing and people would still die.

Elysia had no sympathy for the British Ministry of Magic's woes. As Harry Potter, he had advocated for them to improve the safety of the first generation magicals and make the targeting of these people by wizards and witches a severe offence on the same level as a hate crime. Sadly, both Shacklebolt and the Wizengamot membership ignored him, showing that even among the more progressive members of the British Magical Community, the will to treat "muggles" as anything other than a nuisance to be tolerated remained all too prevalent. These thoughts, of course, made Elysia think about Hermione. Her best friend and confidant from Hogwarts had led a somewhat public life after graduating from Hogwarts. She had taken the time to write a more grounded retelling of their seven years worth of escapades than the one published by the Ministry's official historians, let alone that garbage written by Rita Skeeter that embellished everything, and had even joined the Ministry as a staff member in the Muggle Liaisons Office. She had even been featured in a photo with the current Prime Minister, working as a secretary in his government, probably a cover for her work as the Ministry of Magic's direct contact with the head of British Parliament. In an adjacent photo, Harry had seen Hermione proudly standing with her parents, meaning that she had taken his suggestion and managed to revert the erasure of their memories. Elysia was very proud that her best friend had made a place for herself in the post Voldemort world. Now… now her place in the world was being threatened again. Hermione would remain the single most visible target of the Neo Death Eaters and, while she was a very capable and bright witch, Elysia knew all too well the way hatred fueled fanatics.

Arriving home, the head of the Peverell family told Ida to hold up on serving dinner, before walking into her office and taking a seat, the newspaper placed right in front of her on the desk. Elysia had refrained from sending a letter to Hermione after she had ceased being Harry Potter. It had felt disingenuous to do so, as she couldn't tell her what had happened to her, nor whom she became. Elysia didn't want to risk exposing herself should Hermione's letters be intercepted and she didn't want to give anyone anything that might make them think that Hermione could lead them to Harry Potter. The Neo Death Eaters would jump at the chance to kill the Man Who Conquered in order to destroy public morale, and Elysia was sure that either the New Blood Order or the British Ministry of Magic would seek Harry out to get him on their side, to use him to sway public opinion. Elysia had no intention of being anyone's tool. Still… she didn't want to abandon Hermione if she happened to be in danger. Jeanne's steadfast belief in Elysia and her desire to watch over her had reminded the young raven haired woman what it was like to have a friend that you could depend on and what it really meant to have genuine friendship. Seeing the news brought back the memories of their years at Hogwarts together and everything they had gone through together. With the possibility that Hermione could soon find herself in danger, despite what Elysia believed was a decently secure employment position in both the Ministry of Magic and the government of the United Kingdom, the young raven haired witch sighed.

So, for the first time in nearly two years, she took up a ballpoint pen and began writing a letter to her first true friend, only this time she made sure to leave it unsigned. Once she had Hermione's name written on it, she asked Ida to wait up on her for a few minutes, before apparating to Paris. The Goblins there were quite surprised to see Elysia there during the weekday in the afternoon, which made the Head of the Peverell family feel self-conscious again. Still, the attendant at the front desk was able to direct her to a bank teller that handled international transactions. As Elysia was waiting for the teller to complete her request, she watched as Fueruk appeared, his eyes scanning her for a moment. "A bit unusual to see you this early in the week, Lady Peverell. Anything I can help you with?" With the transaction confirmed and the amount from her anonymous vault set aside, Elysia handed the letter with the bank statement inside to Fueruk. "I would like to have this delivered to an old friend of mine in Britain. Knowing them, they will probably be able to receive standard non-magical mail in their place of residence. Could you have Gringotts Parision's Mail Service contact Londinium's and see if her address is available and have it sent there as… safely and anonymously as possible?" Fueruk took the letter and read the name. "I take it you don't want it to be traced to Paris?" Elysia shook her head, which made Fueruk smile. "You need not worry. I will have the letter transferred through the Goblin Nation's Internal Mail Service. Anyone tracing it will have it lead back to Gringotts but no further." Elysia bowed her head. "You have my gratitude for this, Viceroy Fueruk." As Elysia exited the bank, she stared at the setting sun over the city's skyline, feeling equal parts nervous and equal parts relieved.

After nearly seven long years of anonymity and isolation, the moment Elysia stepped out into the wider world, she found that staying disconnected from the events of Britain and elsewhere was growing ever more difficult. She had developed the Wolfsbane Potion and was currently testing her new Medicinal Potions as a way to help the more vulnerable people of the world live better lives. Unfortunately, the very act of helping others was increasing her exposure to the world at large, her new name now becoming known to others outside of the Goblin Nation. Now… now she was actively helping a friend find safety from the resurging violence of her home country, even as the very idea of helping Magical Britain in any way brought with it a mix of anger and resentment. Still… Hermione was worth it. For seven years, the young brunette witch had been Harry's constant friend and voice of reason, his light in the darkness. He hated that he had to leave her behind but he had felt that there was no other option. Hermione had made her choice at the end of the war and had prospered from it, just as Elysia had. The head of the Peverell family would share some of her prosperity to at least give her friend the freedom to choose without having her economic situation hamper her thoughts and actions. Turning away from the setting sun, Elysia apparated herself back home, the shadows of the tall evergreen trees concealing much of her Estate in darkness. For now, her home would remain secure, a sanctuary from the troubles of the world. She hoped and prayed that it would always remain as such to her. She had endured more than enough of humanity's evils to last her a lifetime, after all.

Chapter 9: Tainted Celebrations

"Maybe having that last bottle of firewhiskey was a bad idea." Gabrielle, her face flushed and her ears burning, grumbled. "I think it was the last two bottles we shared, not just one." Adeline waved her hand dismissively before hiccuping as Gabrielle kept her friend from toppling over as they made their way back towards their dorms after having been at the Post-NEWT Examination student celebration. While Beauxbatons didn't usually allow alcohol on the premises beyond the private supplies kept by the staff, which needed to stay out of student hands if they wanted to keep the privilege available to them, there tended to be a final loophole that students exploited, which was the eighteen year olds returning from Easter Break. As many of these were now officially adults, they could bring in the alcohol but were barred from sharing it with minors. Anyone caught breaking these rules faced instant suspension and other reprisals. So, rather than risk getting suspended before finals and the NEWT examinations, all the booze was stockpiled by the seventh years until the last day of NEWT exams. Once completed, the students would host a get together where everyone of age was free to try the different variety of beverages, though since there were few instances of actual coordination, many students just tended to bring firewhiskey, heavy laggers and a few brave souls even brought out Goblin Ale. Those that tried the latter were then forced to go to the infirmary in a few minutes, which caused the party to scatter, as the professors would confiscate any remaining alcoholic beverages.

So, Adeline, not wanting the party to end, managed to lift one of the bottles of firewhiskey that were still left and the two young women had been sharing it whilst out in the gardens, talking about how much they were going to miss Beauxbatons and sharing a dorm, not to mention celebrating Gabrielle's recent 18th birthday. Having already shared a similar bottle back at the party, the two women were soon quite drunk, as they made their way back to the dorms, with Gabrielle already having trouble keeping herself and Adeline upright. "I can't believe you managed… (hic)... to convince me to actually join you." Adeline smiled before poking her friend in the cheek. "Of course I needed to convince you. You had already missed out on all the Balls as it was and I didn't want my best friend's last year at Beauxbatons to be just as dull as every other year. You nee-" Adeline brought her hand up to her mouth and Gabrielle had a sinking feeling. Her dark skinned friend fell onto all fours and began vomiting her stomach contents as Gabrielle barely managed to get her long curly hair pulled back and away from her friend's face, while also resisting the urge to join her as the smell made her gag. As she rubbed her friend's back, both of them hunched over on the ground, Gabrielle felt a pair hands cup a feel, causing her to yelp. The boy behind her whispered into her ear. "Gods, you have no idea how long I have wanted to do this. You aren't packing much compared to your friend there but I prefer my ladies to come from good stock. Now, while my friend has his fun with your wasted roommate, let's see what you have been hiding all these years under that uniform."

Gabrielle felt her anger rising, but even as she tried to fight the young man off of her, her movements were affected by how drunk she was. The moment the cool night air touched her exposed stomach she tried to draw out the part of her Veela nature that would allow her to transform. As feathers began to frame her face, however, she felt a wand tip pressed against neck. "Sorry, can't have that. I don't want to see your filthy half bird form. Stupefy." The moment the stun spell struck her skin, she felt her body become limp, even as her mind retained some awareness as she had already been partly shifted, as Veelas had some measure of spell resistance. She felt tears escape her face as the boy turned her over onto her back and started tearing at her top, exposing her chest. For a brief moment she thought about not being able to protect herself and Adeline from these bastards, feeling utterly powerless, when her memory of Harry's face so close to her after saving her from the Black Lake filled her mind, those beautiful green eyes wordlessly asking her if she was alright. At fourteen he had been able to face a dragon and survive, rescue her and his friend from the Merfolk of the Black LLae, while eventually going off to face a Dark Lord even as his much older schoolmate had been killed right before his eyes. And here she was, eighteen years old and so… powerless. Gabrielle had closed her eyes as soon as she felt her leggings getting torn, hating just how weak and powerless she felt when something… odd happened. That feeling of being watched flashed through her awareness, before the bond that connected her to Harry seemed to be pried open aggressively. A surge of magic seemed to cleanse her of the effects of the stun hex, before she felt the weight atop of her launched away violently into the corridor wall, another similar noise happening just to her left, where Adeline had been.

Finding that her mind wasn't clouded anymore, Gabrielle sat up, seeing that the two boys who assaulted her and Adeline were both out cold, her dark skinned friend in a similar state of partial undress. Drawing her wand, she tied the two boys down to prevent them from running away, even taking their wands away from them before she checked on her friend, finding her passed out. Remembering her Healer course, she checked Adeline over, finding that she too had been stunned, her hair and face partly stained with her own vomit as she had been stunned from behind whilst she had been preoccupied vomiting. Feeling a bit better about her friend's current state, she called the Beauxbatons elves, begging them to send the professors her way, before remaining in the hallway, her father's words of not altering a crime scene pounding in her head as her shaking hands kept her wand pointed at the boys that assaulted her and her best friend. Then, catching movement out of the corner of her eye, she swung the wand around, a stunner ready to cast from the tip of her tongue when she found herself looking at… a raven. The black bird, which was standing on the inside section of a closed window sill just looked at her and her friend, its head darting everywhere as if keeping watch, before it looked straight at her, two familiar green eyes digging deep into her soul. "Harry?" The raven cawed, its wings opened briefly, before it just… faded away, its black form turning into mist before disappearing into the hallway's shadow. As the professors arrived and checked on everyone, Gabrielle felt that sensation of being watched again, hearing a raven's caw in her head, before the feeling passed, leaving her to her own chaotic thoughts as she and Adeline were gently escorted to the Infirmary.

"Mon petit ange. How are you? You must be feeling dreadful!" Gabrielle felt her ribs ache slightly in pain as her mother hugged her after she and her father had arrived at Beauxbatons the morning after the assault. Gabrielle, dressed in the hospital robes that had been provided to her, had dark circles under eyes, not having slept well during the evening, even after Healer Smyth had provided her and Adeline with neutralizing draughts designed to counter the effects of alcohol, after the Aurors had arrived and done their initial scans of the involved parties. "I… could be better, Maman." She felt herself getting pulled into her father's side as he kissed her hair. "You have no idea how much I regret that this has happened to you. Were it up to me I would lock those two in MSF holding cells immediately. Sadly…" Gabrielle nodded. "You had to recuse yourself for impartiality's sake. I understand. I am… I am just happy you are here." The infirmary doors swung loudly against the walls, startling François enough to draw his wand as he turned around, only to holster it as the frantic form of Jeanne Charbonneau rushed to her daughter's side, with the young woman trying to calm her own mother down, as Madame Maxime and the lead Auror investigating the assault walked into the infirmary. Like at Hogwarts, the infirmary was a sprawling space with medical beds, privacy screens and bedside tables, the wall behind Gabrielle covered in windows that allowed the light in, whilst the opposite side included small alcoves next to the beds to allow for students that spend the night to use the individual bathrooms in private without disturbing anyone, whilst the corner next to the main door had Smyth's office chamber and private quarters as she was always on call.

Maxime walked up to stand between Gabrielle's and Adeline's beds, with Apolline's eyes narrowing on her. The half-giantess didn't take the glare poorly, acknowledging Apolline's grievances with a nod, before speaking up. "Firstly, I would like to apologize to you two young ladies over this grave violation. Beauxbatons has always prided itself on being a safe environment and sadly that failed to be true last night for the both of you. As you have completed your NEWTs, I am more than willing to offer you both the opportunity to return home early prior to graduation, with portkeys provided to you both and your families to attend the event with as little difficulties as possible. You are also free to remain at the school, with added security from the MSF Aurors as requested by me under my own authority." Jeanne was the first to respond, her tone far more serious and clipped than most had ever heard from her. "That's all very kind and generous and the added security is a solid, if belated, gesture. That said, I am sure that what I, the Delacours, and our daughters want to hear is what is to be the punishment for those two would be rapists." The Headmistress' wince made Apolline's hands clench, as she turned her attention to the Auror. The woman, who François knew as the Head Auror of the Sexual and Domestic Violence Division, stepped forward. "I am afraid… that what I have to say will not satisfy any of you. We investigated the incident and thoroughly checked all the involved students, both the perpetrators and the victims, and found that they all had high amounts of alcohol in their systems. This would on its own not influence the case at all as those intoxicated can't consent… unfortunately… the perpetrators are also claiming that they were under the influence of a Veela's Allure."

Gabrielle felt the wind knocked out of her as Apolline fumed. "The Allure may draw another's interest but it does not compel them to commit any act of violence. You know this!" The Auror nodded. "I do, but the issue is the combination of not only the Allure, but the fact that Miss Delacour was also intoxicated that can muddy the investigation. The memories that she provided indicate there was motive, but the young men are claiming that they felt "compelled" to assault the two young women because of her magic and that their intoxication prevented them from resisting the heightened effects, effects that surpassed what they normally were because Ms Delacour had also been impaired. Had the assault resulted in rape… Regardless, they are both being transferred to the Paris holding cells but I wanted you all to understand that… because of the circumstances, the legal consequences may not be as clear cut as they should be. Director Delacour, I will keep you apprised but only as an involved party. I hope you understand." François gritted his teeth as he felt his daughter beginning to shake next to him. "I understand. I will contact Internal Affairs to keep an eye on the situation." The witch nodded before excusing herself, leaving Maxime alone before them. "I have summoned the Board of Governors to determine a response, but with the incident being so late in the term and the students having completed their examinations, there might not be much we can do about the incident either. I will try to advocate for the aggressors to be barred from participating in the graduation, and for a permanent notice be added to their record and I will be canceling and blocking any requests from them for apprenticeships, internships or employment at Beauxbatons for as long as possible, but as of right now, that is all I can do on my own authority."

Seeing that Gabrielle wasn't taking the news well, Maxime excused herself out of the Infirmary, with Healer Smyth leaving Calming Draughts with her patients, before heading off to check on the others who had been admitted with damaged stomach linings because of the Goblin Ale. Apolline pulled her daughter into her chest, letting her vent out her frustration, the reality of the way Veelas remained mistreated by the French Magical Community being the largest reason as to why she continued to advocate for improvements to the laws. Like with many conservative circles, the simple fact a Veela existed was seen as grounds for any inappropriate behaviour to be excused. Sure, some verbal harrasment was expected, though she and many others believed that repeated attempts at harrasment, asasult and even rape should be grounds for legal action. Unfortunately, getting the Convention to agree to the necessary legislation had always been an uphill battle, because even though the Magical Community was still relatively egalitarian and French Magical Creatures were treated better than in other countries, that didn't stop residual traces of cultural, social and legal discrimination from being found within its population, with those in positions of authority often unwilling to "impose" further restrictions on themselves or others. Now, one of those remaining issues had caused Apolline's youngest daughter and her friend to endure being sexually assaulted with the possibility that their attackers could get away with a slap on the wrist. She rubbed her daughter's back. "It's ok, mon ange. Everything will be ok. Not today, not tomorrow, but one day, it will be." Gabrielle heard her mother's words and would later be grateful for them, but right now all she could do was cry, a part of her hating that she had been born Veela. She knew better than to listen to that part of her mind but right now she just couldn't. All she could do was feel the pain and betrayal that threatened to consume her heart.

Londinium District, Summer 1999

"He's through here." Golstrud nodded at the Goblin librarian, thanking her for her service, before he stepped into the wing of the Gringotts Londinium Library. Whilst Goblins subscribed to the notion that knowledge was power, it had long been a policy of the Goblin Kings for all citizens of the Goblin Nation to have access to as much knowledge as possible. Whilst certain pieces of information, such as the physical locations of the remains of prominent Magicals throughout all of history, top quality potions that were too dangerous to develop further, sites of untold magical power and even texts deemed lost to history were sequestered away in the Royal Capital's Grand Archive, the vast majority of information that had been accumulated over millennia was easily accessible to all citizens and subjects, including those under contract to repay debts. Ever since his last match against the Nundu, Harry Potter had been frequently seen spending much of his time at the library, reading up on all sorts of subjects, from spell books acquired from defunct magical families, bestiaries that dated back centuries, and potion and ingredient books written originally in Celtic. The attendant of the Viceroy of Londinium found the young man seated at one of the taller tables, several books before him. Golstrud checked the titles of the books and raised an eyebrow. "These are restricted potions above ground." Harry nodded, his eyes fixed on the parchment before him as he flipped one of the pages. "I know. I… tried to ignore it and just focus on reading about the next threat of the Arena Trials but my mind kept circling back to it."

The young goblin sighed. "I imagine that the thought of your every action for seven whole years potentially being a consequence of the potions you were constantly being fed without your knowledge would weigh heavily on your heart. So, what have you learned?" Harry leaned back, wincing as some of his ribs were still tender from when he had been knocked down by the Nundu. "Well, these were all indeed intended to be used solely on patients in the psychiatric ward. The loyalty potions were designed to prevent the patients from attacking the caregivers and the distrust potion was intended to break the addictions of magicals to dangerous substances or even to disruptive behaviour, with the libido reduction being designed to make rapists less inclined to seek victimizing anyone. The thing is… these potions by themselves should have been habit forming. In time, the Healers were supposed to reduce the doses until they ceased becoming necessary. They were never meant to be used continuously." Golstrud rubbed his chin. "I suppose you are aware as to who had these potions added to your "diet."" Harry spat out the name. "It had to be Albus Dumbledore. There was no way this occurred without him saying so. Still… why me? Why not do this at the school to every other Slytherin that showed to be following in their Death Eater parents' footsteps? Or even to Voldemort? Tom Riddle had been at Hogwarts when Dumbledore was teaching." Golstrud gestured at the covers of the books. "Well, some of those potions didn't exist by that time period. As to why only you and not the others… You were but an orphan. Any of the Death Eater families would have their children constantly checked for potions. You, on the other hand, had no one to protect you. As for why, ask yourself, when did Dumbledore have a Potion's Master that would actually make these, knowing that he wouldn't report the matter to the Ministry?"

Harry bit out a response. "Snape." Walking closer, Golstrud took one of the books and pointed at the description on how to identify the potion. "And, if you happened to never receive a proper education on the subject from said Potion's Master, then that meant that you would never be able to realize that you were constantly being fed potions with your meals or during your hospital trips. From the very beginning you were conditioned to never be able to realize what was happening to you. Had you died, then that would have been the end. They would have gotten their martyred hero, the evidence of their crimes against you washed away as your corpse rotted under the earth, if you weren't immolated just so they could be sure." Harry turned to look at the books. "What I don't understand is why they chose not to reduce the dosages? Why did they continue to keep me under the influence of the potions if they should have been creating a conditioning that would make their use unnecessary." Golstrud placed the book back on the table. "The human mind is a difficult thing to predict. Even one bent to someone else's will, but even more so when the will of the individual is greater than even the conditioning can alter. And, perhaps, they did try to see if the potions were still necessary. Tell me, can you think of a time period when your thoughts were… clearer? Your desires, your awareness of the people around? Can you think of a moment when doubt began to gnaw at your mind that something was wrong?" Harry frowned as he tried to recollect. "In my fourth year… during the Triwizard Tournament. That was the first time I doubted Dumbledore's intentions, when my "friend" Ronald felt less of a friend and more of an imposition. That was when I truly began to feel something bordering on desire."

Golstrud hummed to himself. "1994 to 95. The year you were forced to be a Triwizard Champion. I wouldn't be surprised if they decided it was best to see if the conditioning was working without the potions, and I doubted they wished for you to die in said tournament because your reflexes were dulled by them." Harry nodded. "And then the year afterwards. I felt so angry at first, unstable. Umbridge being at the school didn't help matters at all and the connection I had with Voldemort probably didn't do me any favors. It wasn't until afterwards that the connection seemed to have a lesser effect on me and again my emotions were dulled. I had an attraction to a girl, Ginny Weasley, but it felt rushed, fueled by lust and comfort rather than trust or understanding." Golstrud tapped his fingers on the table. "Then perhaps you were able to endure two years when the potion was kept from you, both because of the Tournament and because of Umbridge's very obvious crusade against Dumbledore. Can you imagine the scandal that would have erupted if the Boy Who Lived was found to be under the potions induced influence of the Headmaster? It would be safe to say that you had two years of nearly independent thought. Do you think that those two years may have given Dumbledore the impression you were well on your way into becoming his ideal champion of the light?" Harry snorted. "Hardly. If anything…" The last Potter's eyes grew in size as realization struck him. "If anything it would have made him all the more paranoid. Paranoid that I would become like Riddle." Golstrud looked at the young man. "And that is why you were once again dosed with the behavioural potions. For you to reach the conclusion that Dumbledore orchestrated, he needed you to behave predictably and he knew he would never get that from your will alone."

Harry sighed, rubbing his fingers over his face. "I can see now why the Order didn't bother to listen to me. I wasn't supposed to have survived, but they couldn't abandon me outright. They needed my presence to have the support of the masses." Golstrud chuckled. "Unfortunately, they didn't seem to account for your strength of will. Whatever conditioning Dumbledore hoped to put you on seems to have faded." Harry nodded. "It has… but that doesn't change anything. I still had seven years of my life stolen from me almost completely. And even now… something feels off. Like I am unaware of something that should be important to me. It's a feeling I had since before I arrived at Hogwarts and it has never really faded away. It was just… suppressed, like everything else in my life, apparently." Golstrud sighed, before heading towards the nearby stacks of books before selecting the one he knew had a certain potion in it. "Well, I would suggest you make more out of the life you have here. You may be serving out a work compensation sentence, but you are not barred from developing who you are. As for why you are feeling as if something important is just beyond your reach, perhaps it is something you will only recognize in time. Here. Read through this book. The potions in it are quite exemplary and you might find some of the insights their inventors reached to be quite illuminating." Harry took the book and bowed his head. "Thank you, Attendant Golstrud. For the book and the conversation. I can't say that I feel better but at least I know now that some parts of my life were influenced by my own decisions, not Dumbledore's." Golstrud bowed his head towards Harry. "You are quite welcome, Challenger Potter. May you find what it is that you feel is missing from your life."

Present Day

Elysia stretched out in her seat, having finished writing her first potions recipe for a nonstandard Blood Replenishing Potion using Central and South American ingredients, whilst still waiting to see if any of the Oceania batches turned up anything different. She had already determined the best temperatures needed to get each of the ingredients to blend into the mixture without burning, which would cause solid debris to remain in the potion, severely depleting its effectiveness, as well as the total allotted time for each individual ingredients' boiling state. Sometimes one would get lucky and have ingredients behave correctly at the exact same temperature, though in that case one needed to make sure that the ingredients and the mixture weren't volatile or disruptive when blended. Once she had gotten the right processes, blending temperatures and determined the ingredients' reactions to each other, she would end up with a standard potions batch to see if they worked well together, varying the concentration of the primary ingredient until she found one that hopefully worked. After that it would just be a question of getting all the ingredients to blend in their most effective state and she would have a new potion recipe ready to go. If nothing from her current batch panned out then she would start testing Asiatic ingredients instead. Checking the timetables for the in-process potions, she noticed that she had plenty of time to waste. Seeing her delivery box was partly filled with this month's supply, she took a moment to check her stores, filling out the rest with her pre-checked vials, before heading out the door.

Arriving at the Charbonneau Apothecary, she found the store was unusually busy, though she noticed that very few people were carrying bags, meaning they weren't there to buy anything they couldn't carry in their hands or clothes. The crowd, mostly women, noticed her approaching. "Mademoiselle Peverell! Did you hear the news out of Beauxbatons?! Such behaviour is simply unacceptable!" Elysia tamped down on her nervousness about being addressed by her name. As the new Wolfsbane potion was announced along with her name, Fueruk had notified her of all the requests for her to attend meetings with other Potions Masters. At her request, he rejected all of them, making it clear that his client wished to remain a private person. And, thanks to Jeanne's efforts, the local witches and wizards knew not to expose her identity to anyone not part of the community. Elysia had been pleasantly surprised by such consideration, but according to Jeanne, there was almost no need to even convince anyone. The moment that Charbonneau had asked them to help keep their resident Potions Master's identity a secret, most had agreed with little thought whatsoever. Everyone in the town knew of Elysia's uncommon generosity and kindness, from helping the elder Monsieur Chauvin pay his monthly potions before he passed a few months later, in what his family said was a "comfortable" end, her ability to quickly find the youngsters who got lost after playing with their brooms in the nearby wilderness, to her willingness to help the other elder members of the community with repairing some of their equipment within their homes, as they had forgotten or where unable to cast the spells themselves. Elysia had blushed up a storm when Jeanne and most of the townsfolk had dubbed her Saint-Cirq's Guardian Angel.

"What happened at Beauxbatons'?" One of the women, whom Elysia recognized as the younger Madame Chauvin, held her hand against her chest. "Two young women were sexually assaulted at the Academy! They were thankfully saved before it progressed to rape but because everyone involved was drunk and one of the women was a Veela, the Ministry and the families of the attackers reached an agreement. The two young men pled guilty to the assaults but they won't be spending any time in prison. All they got was a permanent mark on their record, ridiculously cheap fines and restitution payments and restraining orders to keep them away from the women. That's it! It goes without saying that the two men were from well off families. Those marks on their records mean nothing if they can just be employed within their own family businesses! The worst part is that one of the girls is Jeanne's Adeline. We all came here to support her, to let her know that we don't agree with this grave miscarriage of justice against one of our own!" Elysia sighed, tamping down the righteous anger that welled up inside of her. Even as Harry, he had heard of similar occurrences happening at Hogwarts, with the perpetrators being allowed to continue at the school along with their victims, with the staff and the Ministry doing nothing but lip service. Even Dumbledore simply kept said incidents quiet, claiming that it was better to keep the perpetrators at the school where they could learn to curb their worst instincts. After being freed from Dumbledore's influence, Harry and Elysia could see just how wrong that decision was, as it only encouraged the attackers to continue misbehaving. Harming others without suffering any consequences was only ever going to encourage repeat offenders.

Looking at everyone gathered, Elysia offered them a reassuring smile. "I am sure that Jeanne and Adeline are overwhelmed by the show of support, but you all know they need time to heal from these wounds. Why don't you write down your thoughts and best wishes and I will deliver them to our beloved ladies. You will all have a chance to express them in person when they are up to stepping out of their home, though please be respectful of Adeline's privacy. This event will leave scars that will take years to heal and the best we can do is guarantee her an environment where she will always feel safe." The women all happily agreed, taking out pieces of parchment and writing down their support, before handing them to Elysia. Madame Chauvin hugged her. "My father-in-law called you an angel and that Saint-Cirq was lucky to have you. We all feel the same way. Merci pour tout, Elysia." Once everyone was gone, the young Peverell looked towards the Charbonneau Apothecary and the home on its second floor, before sighing as she drew the Elder Wand. She stared at it, feeling Macha's eagerness to cast, the essence of the wand ever waiting for Elysia to use her, whilst she searched for an adequate memory. In the past, as Harry, he had allowed himself to dwell on dreams. The dream of being with his parents, the dream of living with Sirius and eventually the dream of simply living to see himself become the head of his own family, no longer alone in the world. After everything that was uncovered about the manipulations that Dumbledore used to shape him into his perfect little soldier, those dreams had all died out. All but one.

Elysia didn't need to stare into the mirror of Erised to know what her true heart's desire was. It was to live. To live a life filled with love, joy and companionship. The person didn't matter to her, nor did the place. All that was just superficial. What mattered was the desire to find that other person that would look at her and see the same thing as when Elysia looked at them: a life, shared and filled with everything it entailed, the good and bad, because if there is something that Harry and Elysia both discovered throughout their life, it was you can't have one without the other. There would never have been an Elysia if Harry had not suffered every injustice imaginable, and there would never have been a Harry if the promise of a life beyond being The Boy Who Lived didn't exist in his heart. So, rather than picking one memory, one dream, she fed her very essence into the spell and uttered the incantation that she hadn't used since the war. "Expecto… Patronum." Squinting briefly as the blinding white light was emitted from her wand tip, she eventually stared at a familiar sight, its diminutive form looking almost identical to how Harry had last seen her, with only her golden eyes replaced by the same silver-like ethereal light of the Patronus. A tear escaped Elysia's eye as she raised a hand to touch her old friend, the spell so energized that what should have been nothing but light and positive energy took physical form for her, the memory of touching those same feathers possibly giving it substance. "Hey Hedwig. Long time no see."

The sight of the snow owl, as it shook its feathers, clicking its beak at her, made Elysia smile. "Yeah, I missed you too. Mind delivering a message for me, for old times sake?" Hedwig screeched, making Elysia sigh in joy, before uttering her message to Jeanne, the ethereal snowy owl taking to the air, passing through the house's front door with no issues. A few minutes later, a stunned Jeanne opened the door for her. "What was that spell? And that owl… it was beautiful. You should have seen the way it made Adeline's face light up when she saw it." Elysia smiled at her friend. "I can teach you both if you would like." She raised her potion's delivery case. "I was initially here to drop off the current potion orders but if you two need me to stay or go, it's up to you. Oh! Here. I am sure you heard the mess from upstairs. I asked the townsfolk to write their support for you and Adeline down, rather than crowd her when she isn't in the best emotional state." Jeanne took the papers and smiled. "Yeah, these might just help Adeline feel better. Come inside. I could use a bit of friendly company." After convincing Jeanne to let her operate the coffee maker, Elysia pulled out a few extra ingredients that she had taken to carry with her, as Ida had essentially crafted a coffee so good that Elsyia struggled to taste just regular brews without wincing. Making sure the taste was as close to Ida's as she could manage, the Head of the Peverell family gave her friend a cup, keeping another held in stasis for Adeline, who had been in the living room long enough to receive the well wishing papers, before taking them into her room to read privately as Jeanne explained what had occured.

Getting a taste of the coffee, Jeanne stared at the cup before looking at her friend, who smiled at her. "Don't worry, this recipe you can have for free. A good cup of coffee should be available for everyone who needs it." Jeanne shook her head, before Elysia sat back, having heard everything. "These two young men. You said they were from old families?" Jeanne nodded. "Old, wealthy and well connected. They had their lawyers there as soon as the Aurors were called in. The Ministry prosecutor got them to admit their guilt but they managed to get such a sweet deal, they might as well have gotten declared innocent by a jury of their peers." Elysia tapped her fingers on her cup. "Can you get me the names of the prosecutor and the two families involved? I can't promise that Gringotts will cease doing business with them, but families this old and well connected are unlikely to stay on the legal side of business transactions. Gringotts could check where the money is going and if anything looks suspicious, they can pass the information to the MSF or even the ICW to investigate." Jeanne leaned back and sighed. "I will get you everything by the time you leave and thank you. It may not be the type of conviction we would want, but if it makes them unable to use their influence to avoid the consequences of their actions a second time, then it's as close to fair as we will get." Elysia looked at Adeline's closed door. "Still, she is really taking it quite hard." Jeanne sighed. "It has a bit less to do with the assault and more to do with her father's reaction to the news. Rather than jumping to offer his aid or to simply be there for her, her father simply stated that "You should have known better than to associate with a Veela. If you had picked better friends, this would never have happened to you.""

Elysia grumbled. "That… that is as close to blaming her for the attack as he could get without saying "it's your fault." Bloody bastard." Jeanne nodded to herself. "And putting all the blame on the Delacour girl is just wrong. Adeline told me how much of a typical Beauxbaton's experience Gabrielle wasn't able to enjoy simply because of something she was born with. She had actually convinced the young woman to take part in the celebration so that the girl could have one last true Beauxbatons' experience. Instead… all they got was a nightmare no student, boy or girl, should ever have to live through. It was fortunate that something had stopped the situation from becoming far more despicable, but the authorities have no idea who or what it was." A few things happened all at once for Elysia. Firstly, she recognized the name Gabrielle Delacour. Harry had encountered her once… no, twice in his life, once at the bottom of the Black Lake and the second time during her sister's wedding. Anothing thing that occurred, however, was Badb feeling very…smug about something, with Anand and Macha complaining at not being able to get involved. When Elysia tried to get the three siblings to spill, all three of them just ignored her, though Badb gave her a cryptic "not now" comment. Elysia knew her companions well enough to leave the matter alone, particularly when they were in a combative mood, so instead she focused on the conversation. "Delacour… I think I remember hearing about them at Hogwarts during the Triwizard Tournament. You know, that fiasco from ten or so years ago? The older sibling was a Champion and the younger ended up being an unwilling hostage for one of the tasks."

Jeanne grumbled. "Those girls seem to have a run of bad luck they don't deserve. First the elder had to get divorced because her husband was never home to help out with caring for their child and now the youngest of the two was assaulted and then used as an excuse to get the attackers sentences reduced." Elysia was quiet for a second, filling all that new information in her head. "Well, as far as I am concerned, the youngest is fortunate to have Adeline as her friend. The two of you are some of the best sort of people I have ever met and believe me I have met more than my fair share of the worst humanity has to offer. I am also sure that Gabrielle is a wonderful young woman if your daughter has stood by her for years now." A tentative voice responded to Elysia's words. "Thank you." Looking to the door, the two women watched as Adeline stepped out, holding the townsfolk's letters to her chest, tears racing down her cheeks. "Thank you, for believing in us… and for delivering these letters. I have felt so… wrong these last few days." Jeanne went to her daughter and wrapped her arms around her, providing her the comfort she needed. The young woman's face lit up as she drank the coffee, before the three descended into a talk about the Patronus Charm and its uses, with Hedwig making a second appearance. As the Charbonneau women had more time to interact with the ethereal bird, Elysia was all too happy to let her new Patronus out for longer, both for her own enjoyment and to help chase the echoes of the attack from Adeline's eyes. Even if Elysia could only lighten her burden for a moment, it was more than worth it.

"Well, it's over now. Fucking finally." Gabrielle wanted to chastise her friend for her language but she honestly couldn't blame her. After the assault, Gabrielle and Adeline had tried to just remain at the Academy during the remaining days of school, but the looks they received from some of the students, particularly those that were on friendly terms with the boys responsible for the assault, had made them both feel unwelcomed. Apolline had taken the moment after the assault to talk to Gabrielle, describing her own experiences at Beauxbatons. How, thanks to François acting as a guard, she was never in any danger, but that it hadn't stopped the students from blaming her for their failed relationships, just because the Allure drew the attention away from them and onto her, unwanted or not. She had warned Gabrielle that the same would likely happen to her now, as those people close to the young men would shift the blame onto her, blaming her for their temporary incarceration, the charges that would be filed and all the "inconveniences" that would follow. As always, her mother had been right as the girlfriends of the two boys were the first to approach them, blaming them for missing out on their last few days together at school with their significant others. Had Adeline and Gabrielle stayed, they probably would have been blamed for the fact that neither of the young men were allowed to take part in the graduation ceremony, the only measure the Beauxbatons Board of Governors could all agree on. Instead, Gabrielle had returned home, as had Adeline, both spending the next few days with their family, just enjoying their time together.

Victoire had been surprisingly aware that something was wrong with her favorite aunt and had practically monopolized her time, much to the family's amusement, though Gabrielle didn't mind as her niece was a cute little ball of energy. They had taken a few trips to stores where they sold delivery owls and Gabrielle had seen a few owls that interested her, as she felt that would need both a scrying mirror and an owl of her own, but none of them seemed eager to come along with her. Eventually, though, she would have to return to Beauxbatons for graduation and after her parents had helped her with her toga and hat, both in the pale blue of the Beauxbatons uniform, she had taken the portkey with them, Fleur and Victoire also tagging along to wish her well and cheer for her from the seats. As her name was called up by Madame Maxime to go up onto the stage that had been built on the Quidditch pitch at the back of the campus building under a clear sky, a beautiful blue with a few wispy clouds to offer some protection from the light, she walked down the line of Professors, shaking hands with them and thanking them for the last seven years. With Professor d'Este she got a "See you in September," which made her smile, before she received her diploma from the Headmistress, who couldn't help but apologize one last time for what happened. She joined her friend on the line of Graduates, both of them ignoring the grumblings and whispers from behind them as the rest of the seventh years were called up, until finally the ceremony was concluded. As they walked through the throngs of people congratulating the Graduates, Adeline spotted her mother next to the Delacours.

"What do you think they are talking about?" Gabrielle sighed as she spotted her mother waving at them. "If I were to guess, you and your mother have just been invited to dinner." Adeline smiled at that. "You know what? I will take it. My stomach has been grumbling since we portkeyed here." Gabrielle nudged her shoulder. "You could have eaten lunch." Adelibe shuddered. "And risk getting nervous enough for it to come back up? No thank you." Gabrielle pulled her friend into a side hug, rubbing her back gently in a show of support, which the young Charbonneau greatly appreciated. The fact that she had been attacked and almost raped whilst having been not only intoxicated but feeling unwell had caused her to reduce the amount of food she ingested, a part of her mind terrified that at any moment she could be attacked should she feel ill. It was an unfounded fear that the Ministry provided Mind Healers tried to tamp down, but Adeline's subconscious had been too stubborn to let go. To say that she had sworn off drinking firewhiskey or anything that could leave her compromised didn't need to be elaborated. If there was one thing that Gabrielle hated about the fact that she and Adeline had gone home, it had been the fact that Gabrielle couldn't look after her friend there, though seeing the protective state her mother had taken up after the incident did make the young Veela feel that her friend was in good hands. She did know, however, that Adeline's planned trip in January was back to being a hypothetical as the young woman was concerned about her fellow Graduates holding a grudge against her whilst she was in French Guiana. Professor Persaud was doing her best to check the students, but there were no guarantees, which Adeline desperately needed in her current state.

When the elder Charbonneau checked with her daughter about joining the Delacours for dinner at their home in Reims, Gabrielle could see that Jeanne made sure that it was her daughter's choice. Turning to look at her Veela friend, Adeline smiled at her. "Well, since you will be checking out my hometown in a few days, I suppose it's only fair that I go see yours. I will be checking out your room, since you were always complaining about how cluttered I kept our dorm." Gabrielle blushed. "... Do I get a chance to go through it first?" Adeline's "nope" made it very clear that she intended to see all the embarrassing details about her friend's youth, which made the young Veela woman sigh in resignation. As they walked through the gardens of the Academy with François and Fleur pointing out the important locations to a curious and excited Victoire, Gabrielle had paused at the sight of the sight Abraxas herd grazing in the open fields of grass, the young foul she had helped deliver running around everywhere with its small wings opened as it sought to get enough lift. Once he was fully matured, the wings would be strong enough to lift the young colt thanks to the aid of its own inherent magic, letting him take to the skies along with his herd. As she turned to look towards her family, however, she heard a soft caw. Turning to look at a nearby fountain, she found herself staring at the bright green eyes of a raven, even as its head kept turning everywhere, keeping an eye on everyone. Apolline stopped moving next to her daughter, her eyes also fixed on the bird. "Is that…?"

Gabrielle nodded. Once she had arrived home, her mother had pulled her aside, asking about what had occured at the end. She knew from the report of her memories that her Veela transformation had been interrupted and that was why the perpetrators had been lucky to not come away from the ordeal with cursed fire burns and deep claw marks, and had the suspicion that her daughter knew more than she was willing to share with the authorities. When Gabrielle described the raven and her suspicions that it had protected her and Adeline, the older Veela didn't know what to say. "A raven? There are depictions of our goddess holding a crow in her hand but those are the exception. Still, it would be too much to consider this an act of divine intervention." Gabrielle had been rubbing her chest. "The thing is… I am pretty sure the raven came to me through the bond. That it has something to do with Harry." Apolline approached her daughter and tested her hand on her chest. "How is the bond feeling right now?" Gabrielle focused for a moment. "It's… sore, I think. Stressed? I don't think it was strong enough to allow what occured to happen in the first place. It's still there but I can't get any feelings coming through right now." Apolline allowed her own magic to test her daughter's. "It is still there and it has been taxed, but it should recover in time. That a creature manifested through it to reach you in order to protect you… It would seem that Mr Potter is far more than just an unfortunate soul forced to become Britain's hero." Back at Beauxbatons, Apolline looked at her daughter. "Is the bond…?" Gabrielle focused for a second, before a deep and powerful voice echoed in her mind. "NO… Not yet."

Momentarily stunned by the words she heard in her mind, she didn't notice the raven taking flight, before it landed on her shoulder. The bird rubbed up against her cheek playfully before cawing at her mother, until it took once more to the skies, its dark shape eventually disappearing in the wide blue sky. François, having noticed his wife and youngest daughter were weilayed, walked back towards them, having seen the raven on Gabrielle's shoulder before it took to the air. He watched it disappear in the sky as he approached the two still figures. "Did Gabrielle find a possible familiar?" Apolline looked at her daughter. "No… just a friendly raven. Right dear?" Gabrielle snapped out of her stunned state and quickly agreed, quietly promising to her mother that she would let her know what had just happened. As they neared the portkey and apparition point just outside Beauxbatons wards, with Fleur asking Jeanne about her job as an Apothecary in a small town, Gabrielle's mind was a chaotic mess, but very unlike how it had been after the assault. Where before she had been frightened, confused, relieved and in shock, now it was just the more positive emotions, as the raven had confirmed that she hadn't just imagined things, that it was somehow connected to her and to Harry and that it was able to find her, even with the bond currently too stressed out to work properly. The thing that confused her, as she portkeyed away with her family and friends to a wonderful dinner back home in Reims to celebrate Adeline and Gabrielle's celebration, was the voice that echoed in her mind from the raven. It had felt familiar, powerful and yet kind, just like Harry's had been at the lake. And yet, the voice she had heard… was that of a woman's.

Chapter 10: The Strength of Bonds

Hearing a knock on the door, the man sitting on the sofa with the latest newspaper open turned his head towards the stairs. "Hermione, Mail's here." A quick "coming!" preceded by a young woman with shorter, curly brown hair pulled back into a loose french braid, a few loose locks hanging to the right side of her face, walking down the stairs to the ground floor. She took a moment to straighten out her dress shirt, before drawing her wand from her wrist holster. Not detecting anything dangerous behind the door or nearby, she holstered her wand and opened the door, waving at the postman as he descended from the house two doors over, before pulling out her key to open the mailbox attached to her home's front porch. The house had come with a mailslot on the door, but out of concern for her own safety and that of her parents, Hermione had removed it, having the mail placed securely outside where she could detect anything dangerous within it before it was in proximity to herself or her family. This was the life she was forced to live as the muggle born witch companion of Harry Potter, as well as one of the more highly placed first generation witches in the current British Ministry of Magic. Letters in hand, she quickly re-entered the house, the wards she had installed reactivating quickly as soon as the door closed, as she scanned the envelopes while walking into the reception room where her father was seated. He looked up at the letters in his daughter's hands. "Bills this early?" Hermione shook her head. "No, just credit card offers, account statements and… actually, I don't know who this is from. One moment."

Drawing her wand again, she tapped the unknown letter, getting a faint glow from it, her father's brow creased with concern, his eyes focused on her wand. Hermione couldn't blame him for still being wary of magic. It had almost been eight years to the day that she had cast a memory charm on him and his wife to erase all knowledge concerning her existence, before implanting in their heads the suggestion to move to Australia. They had done just that, except Hermione had not known that, by using magic, there had been no guarantee that they would move in the most amicable way possible. Instead, because of the compulsion, both her parents had quit their jobs as dentists, placed their house on the market and just up and left, without much to say as to why. When she had finally located them in Australia, struggling to set up their own practice there, she had found herself utterly unable to reverse the effects of the memory charm. Utterly defeated and ashamed, she had brought up the matter to the Australian Aurors, who had not been too pleased with her unauthorized use of memory and compulsion magic on both her parents, though thankfully the staff at the Sydney Magical Care Hospital had been able to reverse the effects. Both her parents had been understandably furious with her, feeling utterly betrayed, with Hermione breaking down over what she had done to them. The Australian Aurors had summoned the ICW and they were both preparing to press charges on her when a medical examination of Hermione threw everything into doubt.

Unbeknownst to her or her parents, Hermione had undergone years of exposure to potions designed to alter her personality, including creating a distrust towards authority figures, eliciting a sense of trust and comfort with select individuals, and curving her ability to think critically of herself, with the Aurors thinking the latter was so that Hermione could never grow suspicious as to her own abnormal behaviour. When they checked her hair to determine when the potions first started, she was surprised to discover that they began sometime during her second year, possibly taking full effect in her third year of Hogwarts. Her last dose, according to the Aurors, had occurred in August of 1997 and it had been a heavy one, designed to endure for months on end. When she lined up all the dates in her head, Hermione couldn't help but feel utterly betrayed. The potions had been supplied to her during most of her time at Hogwarts, with the last dose being just after Albus Dumbledore's death whilst she had been at the Weasley's house before the wedding. It had taken almost a week for Hermione to flush out the potions from her system thanks to the Australian Healers and, thanks to the circumstances, she was acquitted of all charges as she was simply not in her right state of mind when she had stripped her parents of their memories of her. Even so… her parents were still deeply affected by the whole ordeal, with her father almost threatening to never see Hermione again out of fear of losing who he was. It had been her mother who had convinced him to not do that, as the potions and her unwitting actions had already stolen a year of their lives together and she couldn't bear for the family to be parted again.

So they returned to the United Kingdom, though Hermione, who had decided to search for them during the Winter Recess of her remedial year at Hogwarts, had refused to set foot in the castle again, completing her NEWTs at the Department of Education in London, before taking up a position in the Muggle Liaison Office. In the years since her family's return, they had been forced to buy a new house, this one closer to London, and her mother had been lucky enough to join a few other dentists in their practice. Her father, however, declined and elected to stay at home. Hermione could still see that he was motivated by fear and suspicion of everyone around him, with the recent spike in Neo Death Eater terrorist activity only making him more suspicious of anyone or anything associated with the Magical World. And to be fair, Hermione had also shared that suspicion as she heard about her acquaintances and fellow Hogwarts graduates getting attacked. Her position in the Ministry and then later in the service of the Prime Minister had forced her to take her and her family's security very seriously, hence why she was the only person that handled the mail, to avoid any curses or enchantments attached to the letters. The current unknown letter in her hand, however, didn't register as cursed or dangerous, the only spell on it being an invulnerability charm designed to protect it until delivery. This exact spell was used by Gringotts on all of their letters and could only be severed by using a Gringotts certified letter opener. Cutting through the seal, Hermione felt her mother walk into the reception room, handing her husband a cup of coffee. "Who is it from?"

Opening the envelope, Hermione began to read the somewhat neat handwriting until the words on the letter made her heart jump into her throat. "It's from…It's from Harry!" Her father frowned. "You mean that kid that up and left everyone?" Her mother shushed her husband. "Hush, Daniel. That young man left enough money with your daughter to pay for our treatments and our return home from Australia, and that was without counting the change left over. If not for him we would be in debt right now. Go on, Hermione." Seeing the expectant look on her mother's face, Hermione decided to read the letter out loud.

To my dearest Mione,

my first and bestest friend.

Whilst ordinarily I would say that I hope you are "up to no good," the truth is that I hope you have enjoyed nothing but good things in your life since my last letter reached you. When I penned that letter, I knew then there was a chance that it would have been my last. Not because I was expecting an end to my life or our relationship, but because I did not wish to mingle my former life with my current one. This last year and more has been… a revelation to me. So much of our former life that I took for granted, so much that I would have done differently had forces beyond our control not intervened in our lives for the worse. Hoping to find myself a life worth living after everything that was stolen from us, I can now say that I have found such a life and if the newspapers are to be believed, so have you. My congratulations on your accomplishments and the safe return of your parents to your side. I knew you had it in you. Sadly, it is not for this that I write to you. Divorced I may be from the life I onced lived in Britain, I am not blind to what has been transpring there and I… am afraid. For over six years I was not able to be by your side, my dearest friend, and now I fear that when I should be there to help you, I may not be able to. Britain is not safe for me to return to and now it grows more dangerous for you to remain. I know that no amount of money will replace the years that we spent away from each other, nor undo the pain I may have caused you, but that is all I can hope to provide you for now. The money has been deposited to an account in your name and if you refrain from collecting it, it will remain there for you or yours to claim in your time of need. If you decide to stay, secure your home and family to the extreme, though I personally hope you will take it and leave Great Britain for safer shores. And, perhaps, if fate permits and my shame does not stay my feet… we may yet meet again, someday. I wish you and your parents all the best.

P.S. Don't you dare try to refund the money.

Daniel grunted. "Well, at least he didn't ask her to just drop everything on his word alone." Hermione glared at her father for a second, before looking at the bank document. "That… that fucking maniac!" Her mother walked up to her and looked at the amount. Her eyes grew wide. "But… that's in Galleons, isn't it? That can't be right…" Hermione groaned. "It has Gringotts' seal, mom. It's real and it's correct. That maniac sent me millions of pounds worth of Galleons!" Daniel choked on his coffee, with his wife coming to his side with a napkin to help him out. He looked at his wife as soon as he could speak. "Emma, it's not too late to ask her to marry him, right?" Hermione groaned, her face bright red. "We were never like that, dad! Now if you excuse me, I need to lock this up in my security chest." As Hermione neared the stairs that would lead her up to her room on the second floor, her father called out to her. "Wait. In all seriousness… do you think we should start preparing to leave?" Hermione looked over at her parents and the worried expressions on their faces. She sighed, blowing one of her curly locks away from her face. "In all honesty? I think it would be best if we start making some preparations and inquiries. We don't have to leave now nor in the next few months but we can start laying the groundwork. Mom can start lowering her work hours and we can start looking for someone willing to buy the house whilst looking for where we can move safely." As Hermione went up the stairs, Dan looked at his wife. "Any idea where you would like to go?" Emma rubbed her chin. "Some place warmer, perhaps. The new EU laws should help us do it without too much hassle if we stick to Europe." Dan smirked at her. "Not Australia?" Emma glared at him. "Most certainly not."

Londinium Arena, September 1999

"You and your attendants may rise, Viceroy Ragnar." Ragnar rose from his kneeled position before taking his seat next to the Goblin King. While each of the Districts of the Goblin Nation had their own Arenas, each one had a Royal Box where the Viceroys and the King would sit to witness the Challengers attempt to clear the Arena's Tasks. Usually, the King would only observe during the sixth task onward but the fact that the current challenger was now facing his fifth challenge within two years of his first had intrigued the Monarch enough to come watch the task in person. The Arena itself wasn't filled with much foliage this time, instead being made to simulate a jagged incline on a mountain side. Unlike the previous tasks, this one was putting the wards that protected the spectators to the real test as Wyverns, the smaller cousins of the Dragons, kept affecting them whenever they crashed into the barrier. Harry, for his part, was keeping himself low to the ground ever since the beasts were released, clearly trying to determine an opportune means of attack. One of the Wyverns, unfortunately, seemed to have caught his scent as it descended down to the cliffside, clawing its way about the jagged rocks in search of its next meal, whilst the others flew in the air. Then, to the surprise of the observers, the Wyvern reared back and roared in pain, its face covered in some viscous material. The King chuckled. "It would seem your champion has more in common with a beast than with a warrior. Still, drawing in the Wyverns is a good idea…until…"

The injured Wyvern took in a deep breath, its throat lighting up from the internal light, before a massive fireball was launched out of its mouth and into the crevice where it was attacked. To the surprise of the Goblins, they watched as the entire section of the cliff slid down, with Harry in his Challenger equipment sliding down with it and away from the injured creature, even as the other two Wyverns took notice of him. Stone cutting hexes impacted the mountainside, with large boulders beginning to be levitated off the ground, before they were rapidly launched at the flying beasts, causing two to successfully dodge and weave out of the way whilst the third was caught between the boulder and the wards, the creature screaming in pain from the impact against the barrier and a second time when it crashed into the ground. With all the rocks and debris everywhere, a cloud of dust began to build, with Harry taking note of it, before blasting the stones around him, increasing the amount of dust in the air, blocking out everyone's sight and the Wyvern's sense of smell. The King smiled. "Ahh, that makes more sense. This challenger of yours quite literally takes everything he has ever learned and applies it accordingly. Whether the behaviour is that of a beast, a warrior, a miner or a hunter. His time in the mines has certainly given him an advantage today." Ragnar nodded. "It has and he is a fine worker with incredible power. I am sure you saw the new marble reliefs we installed in the Bank upstairs. Our craftsmen were absolutely delighted to try their hand at sculpting a massive slab of marble without a single seam."

At the sound of one the injured Wyvern screaming in pain, the other two blasted fireballs in its general direction, the clouds of dust momentarily parted by them to reveal Harry pulling out his sword from the beast's chest, before raising magical shields as the other Wyverns swooped down to attack him. The Arena spectators watched as all barriers collapsed, save the last one, stunning everyone. Whilst Wyvern fireballs weren't as destructive as Dragon's fire, they were still considered to be able to breach all untethered magical defences. One of the Wyverns flew in front of Harry to cut off his escape, but the young man whipped his wand towards it, causing the previously severed boulder behind the Wyvern to smash into the beast. The wizard then sent a fireball towards the last Wyvern to disorientate it, before focusing on the one crashing into the cliffside. With a speed and dexterity hardly seen in a human, Harry just reached the downed Wyvern as it reared its head back, a fireball surging up its throat, before he jammed the sword through the underside of the jaw, forcing the beast's mouth shut. The throat of the Wyvern was still glowing as the fireball raced up its long neck before impacting the closed exitpoint, the head being blasted open from the force of the expanding gasses, leaving behind a shredded Wyvern neck and badly damaged sword. Seeing the remaining Wyvern landing onto one of the sharp rocks, Harry initially prepared himself for another fireball, but none came as challenger and beast stared each other down. The King rubbed his chin. "The Wyvern has exhausted his supply of flammable material."

Ragnar hummed to himself, eyeing the initially injured Wyvern lying on the cliffside, its face eaten away by the offensive potion Harry had thrown at it. "That and it just lost its three packmates. The question is, will it go rabid or will it submit." Harry, for his part, was breathing heavily as he wiped his face clean of dirt and Wyvern blood, before reaching behind him for a vial of healing potion. The beast saw his movement and came to some decision as it took to the skies before diving head first towards him at a speed that betrayed its utter lack of concern for its own well being. Seeing this, Harry switched to casting a barrier, with the impact of the creature's full body charge sending him flying back into the wall before the Wyvern crawled its way towards him, a manic look in its eyes as it summoned up one last fireball. Unfortunately for him, the death of the previous Wyvern had already spawned an idea in Harry's head as he unleashed his own fireball straight down the Wyvern's throat. The impact of the two flaming orbs seemed to ignite what traces of flammable material remained within the creature as it uttered one last pained screech as it's chest was blasted apart, before it collapsed into itself, smoke slowly rising out of the creature's silent maw and open chest cavity, the former left ajar as it laid on the ground. The Arena erupted into cheers as Harry stood up from having been pushed into the wall, as the Goblin King watched from above. He waited to see if the warrior would claim a trophy, something that was common among Goblins and Arena Challengers, but all the man did was close the eyes of the Wyvern as they had remained open upon death as he stood by it whilst the Healers and Handlers reached him. Once Ragnar was done declaring Harry Potter's fifth task complete, he turned to his king. "Your thoughts on our possible champion, your Majesty?"

The Goblin King's eyes never left the young man as he was escorted out, watching his every move until he was out of sight. "Challengers of the Arena are often those desperate enough to seek a release from their just sentences, or warriors wishing to prove themselves against the deadliest of beasts this world has to offer. Yet, Challenger Potter doesn't revel in the glory of the battle. He is paying a debt but he also seems to see the Tasks as a means to prove something to himself." Ragnar walked back to his seat. "Harry Potter suffered the injustice of being labeled a hero at the age of one, before he endured seven grueling years at Hogwarts and beyond at the mercy of many enemies, a few disguised as mentors and friends. He defeated Britain's Dark Lord and yet learned recently that his entire life he had been a puppet manipulated by others to reach their vision of an end to the war. Yet he survived, time and time again. If he is seeking to prove something to himself, it may be to see if he can make the right decisions on his own merits… and if he is capable of being more than just what he was made to be." King Gringott nodded. "I can see that, yet there is a kindness there, a respect for life that is unusual in a warrior. Keep an eye on your champion, Ragnar, and try to nurture him into reaching his true potential." The Londinium Viceroy raised his eyebrow in surprise. "Your Majesty?" The king turned to him as he stood, forcing all Goblins in the VIP stand to kneel, including Ragnar. "Champions are as much the product of their own will and training as they are the culmination of their own District's efforts to raise them above their own limitations. From here on out, Challenger Potter faces the greatest dangers of the world that we can safely contain. Make sure he is as ready as possible for them without handing him the victory on a silver platter." Ragnar lowered his head. "If that is your command, then so be it, my king."

Present Day

Elysia sat quietly as she listened to wind blowing around her, the only noises breaking the silence being Badb as she cawed whilst the ethereal Hedwig screeched, the two birds flying around her in circles chasing each other, as she sat atop her broom. The old Firebolt had certainly seen better days, though Elysia did give it what maintenance she could, the enchantments on it being as stable as they ever were. She knew there were newer brooms out in the market, mostly from competing manufacturers, but she had never really cared about having a top of the line broom. Harry's original Nimbus had definitely been a favorite of hers and still felt that it had been a smoother if slower broom, but the Firebolt would be the only broom she would own outright, as it was one of the only things left that tied her to Sirius. Even though he had been foolish enough to get involved with Dumbledore again, Elysia couldn't see the man knowingly playing a part in the scheme that kept Harry subservient to the old man. If anything, just as Dumbledore had made certain that Harry couldn't realize what was happening to him, Elysia was sure that he deliberately kept Sirius from receiving the proper medical attention he needed just so that he too would miss the signs. Still, even if the few weeks Harry had spent with Sirius in the Black Townhouse had been to placate both of them, she was able to look at those days fondly, as it was the first time that Harry had felt as if he actually had a family.

That was one thing that Elysia was currently frustrated about. She was alive, free from the control of anyone or anything, would soon have a steady source of income that would require no activity from her at all to maintain, with plans already in place to expand her royalties with the new potions that Gringotts was currently running clinical trials on. Even with the galleons that she had deposited in Hermione's emergency fund account, her finances were not only stable but would soon be increasing, and she had no intention to stop being Jeanne's primary supplier of potions for her Apothecary anyways, so she wouldn't be having any financial trouble in the coming years. The Peverell Estate could finally be completely refurbished in the next few years, meaning that the large expenses that she had been making would soon be over. The problem, however, was that she had a massive home all to herself and it was becoming clear that even with Ida and the Hallows with her, she was feeling lonely. Walking in the corridors of the house to near constant silence, lying down to sleep with no one else to share her bed with. She had suppressed these desires for the last nearly seven years, five of which wasn't all that hard to do since she, as Harry, had other things to do, like surviving the deadly arena tasks, completing her NEWTs and then obtaining a Mastery, all the while discovering her unique situation. For five years she had been too busy to care about companionship. But with the concerns of the last two years soon to be behind her, she would have nothing but time left for her to contend with. Time that she would end up spending mostly alone.

Thinking back to her time at the Charbonneau household, Elysia could honestly say that she enjoyed every moment there. In that house it was clear that Jeanne dedicated every inch of the home to provide a comfortable and safe environment for her daughter but never at the expense of Adeline's own will. The young witch clearly respected her mother dearly, particularly after her unconditional support following that dreadful incident at Beauxbatons, but didn't feel stifled. Even as she planned and now revised the possibility of taking a research expedition to French Guiana, it wasn't out of a desperate need to escape her home, but a genuine desire of curiosity and wonder. Whilst Harry had initially enjoyed the Weasley Household, Elysia could, with hindsight, see the issues that were present there from the very beginning. Molly Weasley's obsessive need to direct every aspect of her childrens' lives had caused Bill and Charlie each to resent her, even if they themselves would never voice it, with Charlie preferring the Romanian Dragon Reserves and Bill being so averse to being in a domestic environment that it had probably cost him his own marriage. At least that's what Elysia gathered from what Jeanne had described of the Delacour Weasley divorce. It certainly proved to be a great surprise to hear about how close Adeline was to Gabrielle, Fleur's little sister, but it was also something that made Elysia smile. As Harry, she had met the young Veela at the bottom of the Black Lake and had saved her, in what she now knew to be of Harry's own volition. He had seen the slightly older girl at the wedding of her sister, with those keen eyes seeing past his disguise, even if neither of them acknowledged it. While Elysia grieved that Gabrielle had suffered such a vile assault, she was glad to hear that she had such a great friend in Adeline.

It was that friendship and the hole left in Elysia's soul from the absence of Hermione that had made her reach out to her again after two years, but again she had held herself back. Because whilst Hermione had been a genuine friend, Elysia was still concerned about encountering another Ronald Weasley and being lonely enough to invite such a person into her private life. Either by a combination of potions or Harry's own insecurities and desire to have a meaningful relationship, he had allowed a glory seeking companion to remain at his side for years, ignoring his constant belittling of Hermione, his insistence in keeping Harry away from anyone or anything that wasn't to his liking and finally his petulant attitude when he didn't get the result he wanted. Looking back, Elysia could say that Ronald and Draco had been two people cut from the same cloth, just one of whom ended up getting used to always getting what they wanted while the other constantly bemoaned that he never could get what others had. If there was one thing Elysia had been truly happy about when she had seen a photograph of Hermione and her parents, it was that Ronald was nowhere to be seen. She had hated their "relationship" if it could even be called that on a fundamental level. Now, as she sat atop her broom, thinking about how lonely she felt, her desire to find someone else, someone she could have a deeper, meaningful relationship with, was being hamstrung by her own awareness that there were people in the world who would pursue her for just her looks, her money or her pedigree, if not all of the above. And she wanted nothing to do with those people.

Sighing to herself, Elysia had the broom start moving again, allowing the sensation of the flow of air against her face to chase away some of her earlier negative thoughts, before slowing down enough that her feet touched the ground gently, barely disturbing a blade of grass. Saying goodbye to Hedwig as she severed the Patronus charm, she and Badb, who had landed on her shoulder, entered the Estate and headed towards the kitchen, finding Ida there practicing her cooking. The small elf stood before a decently sized pot filled with some form of stew, before she registered Elysia's arrival. "My lady Peverell, would you like a taste?" Never one to overly worry about Ida's cooking talents, Elysia took a sip from the offered spoon, taking a moment to discern the flavors of what she now knew was a Spanish style Chicken stew. "Mmm, you might need more saffron and a touch of chorizo. Still, it's quite good, though a bit early for dinner." Ida waved her hand and opened the pantry before summoning the saffron, after which she began searching the fridge for the chorizo. "Ida could feel Mistress' distress so Ida began making dinner to help Mistress Peverell relax." Elysia smiled at the elf. "I see. My thanks for always looking after me. I believe this would go well with some fresh bread. Would you mind if I go see Jeanne for a moment before I return with some fresh bread for the next few days?" Ida shook her head. "Ida does not mind. Mistress can go see Mistress' friend and Ida will have dinner ready for her return." Elysia waved at Ida as she headed for the front door. "You can have the meal brought upstairs. I could use a more relaxing environment. See you in a bit!" Finding her two other companions eager to go out, Elysia slipped on her dragonhide jacket before apparating away.

"Thank you for your time!" Waving at the older couple who owned one of the Saint-Cirq-Lapopie townhouses, both Gabrielle and Adeline turned to walk down the mainstreet of the village as the latter crossed a name off her list, almost all of the other names being crossed out as well. The dark skinned young woman gave her friend a bittersweet smile. "Well, that's everyone on this side of the barrier. We can try in the Magical District, but I already asked them and they simply didn't have room. The houses here can't be expanded because the nearest leyline isn't able to sustain them, so it's not as easy to just get someone some extra space outside of Wizard's Tent. And, while there is a ward separating the two magical streets from the rest of the village, it's not exactly very strong, so we try to keep our area as similar to the rest of the village as possible." Gabrielle nodded, her eyes taking in the beautiful and colorful houses all around her as they walked on cobblestone roads. "I will say that I was surprised that you know so many people on this side of the divide." Adeline shook her head as they walked by a restaurant where the parrons waved at them, with the two women wabing back. "It really isn't if you're a local. Saint-Cirq is known as the village that kept Richard the Lionheart out of its walls. Some of it was very much the defences of the time and exceptional leadership, but the other part of that story is that the town has always been a mixed town of magicals and non-magicals. An ancient agreement was made that the town would never betray the identity of its magical population so long as they kept their practices private and helped in the defence of the village."

Waving at a younger woman tending to the flower pots that hung from her home's window sill, Adeline elaborated. "So, as a rule, every one born into the village knows there is a magical population and are introduced to them. At first, our histories say, it was a tense agreement with both sides expecting the other to betray them. But as decades turned to centuries and no one betrayed the agreement, what started as begrudging respect became open acceptance. There are even a few locals who buy from mom's apothecary who aren't magical and we all step out to buy from the local stores all the time, though because it is a small village and the leadership doesn't want to ruin the aesthetic, we don't get supermarkets out here. We tend to head to Cahors for that. There are some magicals there, so we can check with them if you would like." Gabrielle looked around at the village, feeling some measure of disappointment. When Adeline apparated the two of them here from Place Cachée, she had found the feel of the place peaceful. It was clear that her Allure, even under the full focus of her mind, was affecting the people around her, but it seemed like a momentary lapse on their part. She wondered briefly if areas with strong magical density enhanced the range of the Allure and the areas with almost no magic made it fade into an extremely limited sphere of influence around her. Even if that wasn't the case, the beautiful sights of grasslands, forests and rivers nearby as far as the eye could see was a great contrast to the urban centers of Reims and Paris, and the mountainous isolation of Beauxbatons. Even with the air having so little magic, the place felt… alive in some primordial way.

Seeing the look on her friend's face made Adeline grow a bit more remorseful after failing to find her a place to stay. "You know, we could ask my mom if you could board with us for a few months. Since I could still be leaving on the expedition in January you could then take my room." Gabrielle shook her head. "It's fine, Adeline. I wouldn't want to be an imposition and besides, I am going to have to figure out a way to receive messages regardless of where I am. I guess I am going to have to figure out that bit sooner rather than later." Gabrielle stopped for a second as a sweet smell filled her nose. "Is there a bakery nearby?" Adeline chuckled, well aware that Gabrielle had a sweet tooth. "Come on. You'll love the selection of Flaugnarde." As they approached the entrance of the bakery, a loud caw had Gabrielle pause midstep, finding a familiar looking raven perched on a sign. She briefly wondered why it was there when she heard Adeline speak to someone in English. "Oh, evening Elysia! Couldn't resist some fresh pastries?" A soft voice responded, the sound of it making Gabrielle's heart shake. "Ida would be quite cross with me if I did. No, I just came to have a chat with your mother before buying some fresh bread to take back home. Jeanne said you were busy with a friend so I didn't expect to find you out and about." Gabrielle, frozen in shock, felt her hand being pulled by Adeline until she found herself before a person with familiar black hair and green eyes. "This is my friend and roommate from Beauxbatons, Gabrielle. Gabrielle, this is Elysia, the local Potion's Master and generous soul."

The young Veela's eyes looked at the face of the woman before her, watching as she glared at Adeline for a second and saying "I guess it's better than guardian angel" before those eyes focused on her completely. She watched as recognition dawned on her for a second before the woman held out a tentative hand. "Enchantée." Gabrielle took it as she tried to formulate a response, though her eyes did momentarily look up at the woman's forehead, not seeing the familiar lightning bolt scar even as her bond, which seemed to have awoken the moment their hands met, told her that this person in front of her was who she had been looking for nearly seven years now. This woman was Harry Potter. Those identical green eyes from her dreams had apparently seen her gaze moving upwards as they narrowed in on her, the disapproval on her face finally snapping Gabrielle out of her surprised state. "Oh! The pleasure is all mine. Adeline has told me all about you!" Getting a raised eyebrow from Elysia, Adeline fidgeted. "Well, what did you expect? You moving here was the most exciting thing to happen out here in decades. Wait… Elysia… Gabrielle here is looking for a place to stay while she completes her internship that requires her to be near Beauxbatons. I tried to find her a place in the village but no one had an occupancy. Would … would you mind… letting her stay with you?" Gabrielle watched as her friend wilted slightly under Elysia's gaze, before those green eyes fell back on her, the sight making her heart skip a few beats again, before she returned her gaze to Adeline. "Ordinarily I would refuse on the grounds that my home isn't a hotel for people to just ask me to spend some time there. I moved out here because I value my privacy, after all, Adeline. However…"

Those eyes focused on Gabrielle again. "I am willing to make an exception because you asked… on the grounds that I get to know your friend before I decide if I let them live under my roof." Adeline's dejected face shifted into a massive smile as she threw her arms around Elysia, making Gabrielle realize that the woman before her wasn't that tall as Adeline and Gabrielle were of a similar height. She also seemed so young, despite Gabrielle knowing that Harry should have been 25 years old by the end of July of this year. After thanking Elysia profusely, Adeline then hugged Gabrielle, very glad that they would be able to see more of each other whilst she worked on her drawing commissions, before she headed into the bakery to pick out a few pastries to buy for the young Veela, herself and her mother, leaving the two witches standing beside each other, Gabrielle felt at a loss for words on what to say or ask. After all, she had expected to find Harry Potter, a more mature man than the one she had met under disguise back at Fleur's wedding. Instead she was standing next to a very attractive witch with long black hair that seemed to be in a loose ponytail, her unruly hair going past her shoulders. As she tried to come up with something to say, she found that her mouth was rather dry, though thankfully the witch broke the silence between them first. "I would appreciate it… if you didn't reveal who I once was to anyone just yet. As far as the people near me are concerned, I am just Elysia Peverell." Gabrielle swallowed but nodded. "I… understand." Elysia sighed, before rubbing the back of her head. "Are you… are you actually interested in finding a place to stay nearby?"

Gabrielle, realizing that Elysia wasn't going to just talk about her past and what decisions led up to Harry changing who he was right here in the middle of a small town road, decided to follow her lead. "I…I am hoping to start an internship at Beauxbatons under the Care professor in order to get certified as a Magical Creature Healer, but because it's not an officially recognized course or apprenticeship the school offers, I couldn't stay within the school itself and I needed to be somewhere where an owl could reach me as quickly as possible." Elysia hummed to herself. "A Healer for Magical Creatures… If I end up agreeing to letting you stay, I might have a few books you might find… informative. Still, I meant what I said. You will only be staying at my place if I agree to it. Are you able to Apparate here now?" Gabrielle winced. "I mean…I can manage but my home is in Reims so a jump that far takes its toll." Elysia frowned for a second. "Can you manage it for a bit? If we come to an agreement I can lend you portkeys that should make travel for you relatively easy." Gabrielle smiled at her. "That would be perfect. Sooo… when should we meet again?" Elysia dug out a pocket book from her jacket, with Gabrielle seeing some time tables on the pages with checkmarks next to them. "This Tuesday? We can plan the next meetings after the last, though I am busy on all Saturdays." Gabrielle tried to recall if she had anything planned for Tuesday but aside from spending the day back home with her mother and Victoire, nothing came up. "I think I can manage Tuesday."

Elysia turned to look at Garielle, her hand gripping the bag looped around her left shoulder as she held the bags filled with the loaves of bread on her right hand. "Well then… until we meet again, Mademoiselle Delacour." As Elysia took a few steps away from her, she seemed to stop, before looking towards one of the nearby roofs. "You and I are going to have a chat, Badb, about you keeping things from me. Don't tarry." A raven's caw filled the air, making Gabrielle realize that the bird she had been saved by, and had seen moments before, was definitely associated with Elysia, though her tone made it sound like it had acted independently of her will, which made everything even more confusing. As Adeline came out of the store and interrogated her about what she and Elysia decided on, Gabrielle did her best to respond as she tried to get her mind in order, as the person she had just found was whom she had been on the lookout for seven long years. Her mother had told her that there was a very high chance that the Harry she knew would be very different from who he was now. Only Harry was a she now, a woman that even Gabrielle could readily call beautiful, those full lips momentarily filling up her mind before she snapped out of it confused. She had never really fantasized nor thought about women as possible suitors. Sure, Veela didn't really care so long as their partner could resist the Allure and quite a few had Veela partners themselves. But Gabrielle had never given it much thought until now. She sighed before taking a bite out of the dessert that Adeline had bought for her, trying to decide if what she had learned changed anything about what her plans would be… and what her new found feelings meant about who she was as well.

"No, Ida. Let me…" The elf shook her head as she snapped her fingers, sending all the dirty dishes from dinner to the kitchen. "Mistress' mind is troubled. My Lady should focus on settling her mind, as her magic is growing unstable." Elysia frowned but following the direction that the elf was pointing at she saw the windows of her sitting room rattling, despite the evening outside seeming peaceful as the orange colors of dusk faded into night, a few stubborn stars already shining through. Elysia took a moment to relax, recalling more of her magic back into her body. She wasn't sure if the Goblins had been aware about the growth of Harry's magic during his stay or if they simply encouraged it to get more out of him as an Arena Challenger and as a worker, but by the time Elysia had taken hold of the Peverell Estate, her magic was already radiating off of her, covering quite a bit of distance. It was that very same magic that had drawn Ida to her, as the Magical Creatures in the surrounding area became aware of her and sought out her magic, as they could feed from her excess energy more easily than from the diminished leyline that sat on the property. The moment that Elysia managed to connect herself to the abandoned and almost collapsed wards of the castle, the entirety of the building became suffessed in her magic and, if she focused hard enough, she could even feel everything within the wards and that was without even using the wards as a focus. Ida had even mentioned that the leyline was even reacting to her, growing a bit stronger in an inverse of how most magical properties tended to work. Because of that, however, the Estate was very dependent on her having a stable emotional state, since heightened emotions, particularly those that leaned to the more negative side of the spectrum, could damage the structure.

Nodding to herself, Elysia reached out and touched Ida's head, making the elf blush. "You are right, of course. Today just brought with it too many surprises for me and… I might have made an impulsive decision regarding someone…potentially coming to live here." The elf's eyes practically glowed with delight. "Mistress found a lady friend? Will Ida be able to look after Lady Peverell's progeny in a few years time?!" Elysia's face turned bright red. "It's not like that! She's just… someone I had met before… before I became as I am now. She was looking for a place to stay and Adeline from the village suggested that she could stay here. The girl somehow recognized who I once was and I didn't want to cause a scene so I just… made promises that I shouldn't have." Ida shook her head. "Mistress would not have made the decision if the witch was unworthy to begin with. Ida must do more than clean the dishes. Ida must prepare the consort's suite!" The elf popped away before Elysia could tell her that wasn't necessary, leaving her staring at the spot she had been at, before sensing her companion's emotions as they looked at her from their very comfortable position, as Anand was lying down on the rug, Macha was lazily swishing her tail on the nearby sofa and Badb was perched on the wooden back of the same sofa. Elysia glared at the bird. "And you. I sensed you calling out to her in the street. Why?" The raven cawed as memories flashed across Elysia's head of Badb having tracked Gabrielle after they had visited the mine near Beauxbatons, how she had been observing her to determine why she seemed to have a connection to their Master and even revealed to her how the Hallow intervened when Gabrielle and Adeline were attacked.

The fact that Gabrielle was connected to her, however, was of definite concern. The moment they shook hands Elysia had been momentarily bombarded with thoughts and emotions from the young Veela, including a sense that she too had been aware of the bond. The raven haired girl turned to her other companions. "Was the bond already there when I first gained your allegiances?" The cat and the dog both nodded, leaving Elysia reeling. The bond was older than her second encounter with the girl, which had happened just before the Weasley Family wedding. Anand had confirmed that even though he had not been touched by Harry, the fact that he had been in range of the stone's magic as a master of the cloak had connected them irreparably at that moment. According to them, he had become the Master of the three Hallows the day he bested Malfoy, though because he had yet to wield all three together, his connection to them all had been tenuous. Looking at Badb, her oldest Hallow, she got the sense that she had been aware of the connection between Elysia and Gabrielle the longest. If it wasn't from the wedding, then it had to have been in the lake. Elysia sighed, slumping back into her seat. "Let me guess? Since I had a Horcrux in my head and a stronger connection to Voldemort, I never noticed this connection until recently, both because of the distance between us and because I was just ignoring what I had thought was just background noise?" Badb cawed in an affirmative, leaving Elysia feeling like a fool. It had taken her seven years since Voldemort's death and it was only when she had been in close proximity to Gabrielle that she noticed there was a magical tether connected to her at all.

Focusing her mind, she was able to feel how the magic around her was interconnected to her. She could feel the three strong connections between her and her companions, and a nearly as strong connection between her and the Peverell Estate wards. Recognizing the wild elf magic that connected her Ida, Elysia was finally able to detect the final bond that she had been ignoring for years. Touching it with her mind, she was instantly bombarded with Gabrielle's thoughts and feelings as the girl… no, the young woman was also trying to sort out her own feelings, getting a few brief flashes of what felt like attraction and lust, but most of the feelings seemed to be confusion and curiosity. Elysia released her grip on the magic as soon as Gabrielle seemed to become aware of her presence through the bond, before the raven haired witch clamped down on her emotions hard, trying to come to grips what this bond could mean. It didn't seem parasitic nor malignant so it was safe to leave it as it was, but it was clearly fragile and easily broken or circumvented. Hell, Harry had ignored its existence for seven years so it was hardly impactful. No, the bond itself was meaningless. What mattered was the person on the other side: Gabrielle Delacour. The fact that the girl had felt some measure of attraction to Elysia had surprised her as she had assumed that Veela would prefer male companions, though her knowledge about Veela was limited to the knowledge written by other races, meaning it was probably a seriously biased take on them.

Harry himself had found Fleur beautiful when he had first met her, but her behaviour towards him before the first task of the Triwizard Tournament had soured their interactions. Her apologies afterwards had allowed them to be cordial with each other and Elysia could admit that she had been pleasant company. It had even been entertaining as Harry had watched Ron make a fool of himself. But the Gabrielle that Elysia had just met felt… different. There was no abundance of pride in her, nor a desperate desire to be accepted or praised by others. No, what Elysia had gotten from her by their brief interaction at the village was a girl driven to pursue her career, but one that deeply cared about her friends. A career as Magical Creature Healer indicated an inane desire to help others, even if her clients would be creatures. In Elysia's eyes it made sense for a Veela to seek a career where dealing with crowds was unnecessary. Unless one had an iron grip on their magic and Allure, they would never be able to be working either as teachers or Ministry personnel without running into constant problems, and even if one did manage it, there would always be doubts and suspicions, let alone accusations of impropriety by those who would be envious of the talents and skills of the Veela. No matter how progressive a country might be, there would always be those who wished to belittle or suppress the "other," no matter how wrong it was. On a purely logical level, Elysia had no personal problems letting Gabrielle rent a room of her Estate to complete her studies. The issue was that Elysia wasn't able to be completely logical about this.

And that was what had Elysia worried. Unlike Fleur, who had her magical silver blonde hair, Gabrielle's was closer to a natural blonde, a leaner body and gorgeous blue eyes that reminded Elysia of the sky. She had some of that edge that Elysia associated with Veelas, that unnatural beauty that made her stand out, but with Gabrielle it seemed less obvious. The Allure had been there and it had flared momentarily enough to catch Elysia's gaze but nothing else, meaning there would be no issues having her in the Estate other than what could arise naturally. Gabrielle seemed very much her type and she already seemed to be attracted to her, but that could just have been a lingering attraction to who she had been as Harry. If that attraction was real though, it could lead to a proper romantic relationship… On the one hand, Gabrielle knowing who she had been removes that particularly awkward conversation from having to be brought up with anyone to whom Elysia would consider coming clean to. On the other hand… it would mean getting dragged right back into the open. Elysia had already met François Delacour, the current Director of the MSF, and she had been told by Jeanne that Apolline was a representative of the French Magical Convention. If she wanted to pursue her as a possible romantic companion, it would mean stepping out as Elysia Peverell, risking more people to look into her background and determine that she was at the very least connected to the Hallows, while others might be thorough enough to make the connection that she had once been Harry Potter. She had the protection that came from being a citizen of the Goblin Nation, but the people around her wouldn't.

Sighing to herself, she looked at the three companions, all watching her attentively from their respective positions in the room. "What do you all think? Should I let her in? Maybe… pursue something more?" The three Hallows, who rarely if ever agreed on anything, all gave her their blessing. They knew that their Master was lonely and they wanted to see her happy, though their blessing was soon followed with the usual individual opinions, with Anand being his ever impassive self by offering that whatever happened, he could always bring her back from the dead. Aware that she was not likely to get anything more out of them, Elysia stepped back into her room to wash up, enjoying the feeling of water coursing down her body as she tried to untangle some of her hair. Stepping out into her bedroom wearing just a white bathrobe, she proceeded to dry her hair with a towel, her eyes landing on a picture of her parents that Hagrid had gotten for Harry so many years ago, the two of them dancing before the camera as the autumn leaves fell around them. Taking the frame into her hands, Elysia touched the enchanted photograph, the familiar ache from earlier in the day returning. Jeanne had told her that despite all the people in the world that weren't worth her time, Elysia needed to take the risk and open herself up to someone. That even she, who had endured the harsh reality of divorcing her husband despite him being the father of their daughter, wouldn't have traded a single moment they shared together for anything else, as it was a life that blessed her with Adeline. Elysia placed the frame back on the dresser beside the mirror, before laying down on the bed, her robe spilling open slightly, as she stared at the ceiling. "I guess I will give it a shot… and see what happens."