HP: Dance of the Veela

August 12, 1997

London, England

-o-

Dear Harry,

It was a pleasure meeting you and I would like to tell you how much I enjoyed it. Dancing was a pleasure. It is something that brings me joy and I do not often get to share it with someone like yourself.

I must apologize for stealing your dress robes and will return them when next we meet.

Speaking of which, papa would like to extend an invitation to have you dine with us on August 22nd. I do hope you will join us. Your godfather is invited as well. Papa has also been able to get three extra seats for my recital. You and your godfather will be coming. My cousin Renee shall be joining us. I do hope you will like it.

Over the last few days, I have been thinking about what we discussed about charms. Do you believe that intent is that much more important than the skill and practice to cast the spell? I have become very proficient in wordless casting, but I still find I need to concentrate on the words, intent and feel of the spell. Could you explain what you meant by intent alone?

...

-o-

Harry smiled as the letter went on for two more pages, Gabrielle trying to pick his mind about the five-minute conversation they had had the night of the rehearsal dinner about intent before asking about France and Sirius' properties and family. She was not dull witted, far from it, and it showed as she circled back around to intent again at the end.

When done, he picked up the first page. It had been a slow read as he translated her flowing French in his head. Harry could speak French far better than he could write or read.

The fact she wrote to him at all was still amazing. He was pondering that as he read her letter again when Sirius came into the kitchen of the farmhouse they were in. It was a small house, one of about a dozen on the Black properties here. The old manor at the center of the grounds was inhabited by an old great-uncle of Sirius. Harry was glad they were not there. He did not care for Monsieur Leblanc. "Morning, pup."

"Afternoon, mutt," Harry replied.

Sirius looked at the clock. "It's only eleven-thirty. Still some morning left."

Harry shook his head. "I want to write a letter back to Gabrielle and then I am going for a run. When I get back, I am going to set up some practice dummies out back," Harry told him.

"I'll join you in a bit. I have a dinner with Renee tonight, so you and Kreacher will be on your own. Not sure when I will back. Tomorrow we are going to see the LeBlanc's outside Toulouse for dinner.

"Sure."

Sirius nodded at him. Harry went to get up. "So, when do you see your girl again?"

"She isn't my girl," Harry said, his neck heating a little. Some part of him liked that idea: his girl. "We have an invitation for the twenty-second when we are in Paris."

The older man shook his head. "You have an invitation. I am going to find myself busy that night."

"Coward," Harry accused.

Sirius nodded. "I wouldn't want her finding me irresistible before you even get a chance."

Harry laughed at his godfather. "Dirty old mutt. She doesn't even turn seventeen for three days."

The lecherous grin Sirius gave him had Harry reaching for an apple in a large bowl on the table. "I can't help it if they like me that young." Sirius laughed as he dodged the apple. "Tetchy little pup, aren't you?"

Harry just gave his godfather two fingers as he left for his room in the small farmhouse. Sirius gave out a barking laugh.

-oOo-

August 14, 1997

Paris, France

Gabrielle looked at the snow-white owl that just landed on the table while she was eating breakfast. Papa and maman stared at it too. All owls were supposed to go to the owlery next to the kitchen and their house elves were to check over all mail before it was presented to them.

"Alain, have you changed the wards?" maman asked her papa.

Her papa shook his head. "Non. Only family owls should be able to find us like this."

She heard them speaking to each other, but something told her this was no threat, so she reached for the letter and small package the owl was presenting her. Her parents watched with curiosity. They all knew that nothing bad would bypass the wards, but they were still cautious.

"Make sure you check for bad magics," her mother warned her.

Gabrielle popped her wand out and ran the diagnostics her parents had taught Fleur and her since they could cast. Nothing came up so she took the items and then pet the owl's head. It nuzzled her hand. "If you are hungry, I am sure there are items in the kitchen. One of our elves will feed you."

The owl squawked at her before taking flight.

She looked at the envelope and a smile came to her face.

"Who is it from? " her maman asked.

"Harry," she replied, breaking the seal, and taking out the letter.

-o-

Hello Gabrielle,

I was not sure if Hedwig would get there on time (don't ever tell her I said that), but I wanted to say Happy Birthday. I hope you don't mind, but I got you a little something. -

Gabrielle couldn't stop herself. He had remembered her birthday! She took the box, ripped open the wrapping and when she opened it her smile grew wider. It was a charm for a necklace or a bracelet with a small silver ballerina. When she touched it, it acted as though it was dancing.

"That is beautiful," her maman commented.

"Oui," was her only answer. She put the box down and took up the letter again -

I hope it brings you some happiness. I took it you love to dance, you know there were a few hints, and I did enjoy our dances at the wedding. Perhaps, if you want, we could dance together again?

I look forward to seeing you on August 22nd. You can send a reply back with Hedwig, if you want, as to what time and what the proper attire is for the night. My godfather has this notion you and your parents are far more formal than you were at the wedding, so I would not like to show up in jeans and a t-shirt. Unless you want me to or to get a rise out of your parents. -

Gabrielle laughed.

-As to your other question, it may be easier for me to show what I mean by intent when next we meet, or if you do come to Hogwarts. It was something that took me most of fifth-year, and three of the best Defense teachers I know, to really understand and practice it. I am still a novice but getting better. As Remus says, teaching lets you know if you truly understand something or not. I just hope I can be a good teacher.

I do hope you enjoy the gift and Happy 17th Birthday.

Sincerely,

Harry

P.S. - I hope the animation charm on the goblin silver still works by the time you get it. I am still working on how to do the rune bindings and the first three I tried all stopped within a few hours. This one has lasted for more than a day now, so there is hope.

-o-

Her parents were looking at her expectantly. She folded the letter in a demur fashion, determined to read it again later, and put it nicely back into its envelope. Her heart was pounding in her chest at the joy she felt, and her stomach felt so full of fluttery things she could not think to finish her breakfast.

Gabrielle touched the ballerina charm, watching it dance again. Harry had cast the animation charm and bound it to the goblin silver. It took some skill and power in Ancient Magics to do as such. As she touched it, she felt the magic in it. Something in her told her it was Harry's magic.

"Are you going to tell us what he wrote you?" Papa was regarding her with a smile on his face.

"Harry has wished me a Happy Birthday and says he will join us on the twenty-second. He would like an invitation to know the time and how formal he should dress," she answered, still enjoying the moving ballerina. It did not move in a way a real ballerina should, but Harry had tried and got many of the movements correct.

"I shall draft up an invitation and send it out today?" her maman answered.

Gabrielle smiled. Harry Potter was much different than what she had expected.

-oOo-

August 22, 1997

Paris, France

Harry double checked the letter as he approached the street. Sirius had fobbed off the dinner, not wanting to act Lord Black tonight and instead going out with Renee again. The invitation was a little formal to the Delacours and he was wearing formal robes tonight. For the last almost month, Gabrielle and him had been sending letters back and forth every few days. Hedwig was probably happy to have a few days off. Tonight he was going to be at the Delacours. Tomorrow evening he would be watching Gabrielle in her recital and Sunday he was hoping to spend some time with her. She had said she hadn't really spent much time in the Muggle world, so Harry thought they could explore Muggle Paris. After that, he was back off to England with Sirius and then Hogwarts.

Tonight though, his stomach felt like something was fluttering in it.

Harry and Sirius were not staying far from here and he had taken a Muggle bus because he didn't know the apparition point here. No one looked at him oddly, mostly because the robes were enchanted to look like a nice Muggle suit if you didn't have enough magic.

As he got off the bus, Harry found himself in a small cul-de-sac with a small park in the center with trees and benches. The buildings all look like turn of the century, upper class, four story block houses and when he turned to find Number 9, he realized that it was more than three times as wide as Grimmauld Place. A small whistle escaped his mouth as he realized how large their townhouse was.

He had expected a countryside estate, but they were in Paris as her father dealt with dignitaries and issues at the Ministry. Gabrielle had promised in his last letter to take them to their country estate next time and show him the orchards.

He was also surprised to see an old horse drawn carriage pull up and three more were prancing around the large circle. He had thought he would have a nice quiet night to spend with Gabrielle and her family, instead he was realizing this was going to be a large dinner party.

Harry walked across the street and up the steps, following a couple that looked as though they were both in their mid-thirties. The cut of the robes didn't look like a continental cut and when the house elf greeted them just inside the doors, it was obvious right away they were American by their accent. Harry waited patiently as the house elf escorted them away and another stepped up to the door.

"Evening, Monsieur," the male elf greeted in a heavy French accent. He was smartly dressed in butler robes, his brown hair in his ears were brushed and fluffy.

"Good evening, Master Elf. Scion Harry Potter presenting himself as requested," Harry told the house elf, holding out his invitation.

The house elf took the invitation and nodded before handing it back. "This way, Scion Potter. Master Delacour has requested you be taken right to him."

Harry bowed to the elf, who didn't flinch or act as though it was unusual. Very unlike many House Elves he had met in Britain or some in the Blanc or Leblanc households.

He led Harry into a large central hall with some blue stone columns with gold and silver seams, a blue marble floor with white streaks and lots of displays of wealth. He found this quite interesting. The Delacours had come off as cultured, but not as though they had wealth or power like this. Looking around as the house elf led him into a large formal parlor, he was thinking he may have misled Gabrielle a little also. He knew his family could match or exceed this wealth if he wanted to move into Potter Haven, the old country estate. His grandparents' old townhouse in London was more like Grimmauld Place in size, but it was more impressive, like this.

There were about a dozen people in the room, and more were coming. As he walked through the room to the Delacours, who were on the far side of the room near a large ornate fireplace, Harry noticed heads turning towards him and some of the conversation quieted. Once before the Delacours, Harry put his hands to the side and bowed at his waist. Sirius said if he had to do this, the Delacours would be considered slightly above him, so Harry bowed only a quarter bow. It was much less than Harry figured almost anyone else here would have to do. "Gentilhomme Delacour. Dame Delacour," Harry greeted Alain and Apolline. They inclined their heads down before Harry turned to Gabrielle. She was in a very elegant lavender colour dress with cloth roses around her bodice, a bow at her waist in the back and the skirt was wrapped around in a flowing design in the front. Harry found her breathtaking.

Bugger, he cursed himself in his head. He felt her allure and like a few weeks before, couldn't fully fight it like he could her mother, sister, or cousins.

Harry bowed to her and then took her hand and kissed it. "Mademoiselle Delacour, it is a pleasure to see you again."

Gabrielle looked very pleased as she curtsied. "Seigneur Potter, it is very nice to see you."

"We are very pleased to see you, Seigneur Potter. I so apologize, we had originally hoped to only host you and Seigneur Black, but a few dignitaries are in France and it was necessary to change our plans," Alain apologized.

Harry nodded. "I understand your position as a prominent Representative of the ICW probably requires this at times, sir."

"Thank you for your understanding. If you would, we would impose on you to escort Gabrielle around this evening?"

"It is not an imposition, Gentilhomme Delacour," Harry replied.

"Gabrielle, would you introduce Seigneur Potter to our guests?"

"Yes, papa. Seigneur Potter?"

Harry held out his arm. Merlin, he had found these lessons dull and pointless, which didn't help with Sirius griping, but he was never more thankful. He knew he didn't quite look natural at doing this, but he must have been passable by the way Gabrielle was pleased to introduce him to the nearly twenty people that were there now. Harry met the American, Swedish, and Canadian representatives and their spouses to the ICW. Then there was the American Consulate and he fought hard to keep his eyes in when he was introduced to President Rosalind Hepper of the MACUSA, her husband and son. Harry suddenly understood why there was a change in plans.

"Harry Potter?" President Hepper asked. "You don't mean The Harry Potter. The one Gerald Tanner is always going on about?"

Harry tried not to look uncomfortable. "I am Harry Potter, ma'am. I am afraid I do not know any Gerald Tanner."

"He is the British Consulate representative in New York. A really stodgy and proper character. Ah, I see the scar now," she commented. "If you would not mind, I would like to talk with you more tonight? There were some rumors and whatnot a few years back that caused quite an alarm back in the MACUSA."

"It would be a pleasure, but I have been asked to be Miss Delacours escort for the evening," Harry responded. MERLIN! He was going to have to buy Sirius a case of that scotch he liked later. The man was a cad at times, but he had given Harry training he was using he never thought he would.

The woman nodded. "I understand, but I would still like to chat. I insist you take the seat next to me."

Gabrielle squeezed his arm and Harry inclined his head. "As you wish, Madam President."

"Excellent. Now that is handled, I would like to talk with a few others before we sit." The woman took off.

Gabrielle leaned in. "We need to inform maman that the seating arrangement is to change," she told him as she dragged him off towards her parents, who were talking with a man with a mustache like her father. "That is the French Minister of Magic. We are in high company tonight."

"I have no clue what I am really doing," he confessed to her in a whisper. Harry had hobnobbed with the truly high and powerful in Britain a few times, but nothing like this. "Will I still sit with you?"

"Yes. You are my escort tonight," she told him with certainty.

"Please stop me if I butcher your language too much?" Harry asked her feeling extremely nervous and hoping it didn't show.

She flushed a little. "Your French is very passable. Though I still think you need more lessons."

He smirked at her before they waited a respectable distance from her parents. A moment later her father turned to them. "Renaud, may I present my daughter, Gabrielle, and her escort for the night, Harry Potter? Seigneur Potter, Minister Renaud Montresor."

The man turned towards them and gave Harry a slight bow. "Seigneur Potter! It is a pleasure to finally meet you. I have heard much about you over the years, both in papers and from Head Mugwump Dumbledore. Most recently you seem to have made a fine impression on Alain. Not an easy thing to do, I might add."

The man's French was fast, but Harry was able to keep up. "Thank you, Minister Montresor. Please don't believe the reputation I have from the papers and events I don't even remember."

The man laughed. "If I believed everything printed, I would be a monkey's rear side and the lap dog of the Head Mugwump."

Harry couldn't keep the laugh in. "I assure you, Minister, you look far from that."

The man laughed in return. "I look forward to getting to know you better, Seigneur Potter. Miss Delacour, you look lovely as always." The man bowed to her and she curtsied in return. "Alain, Apolline, I would take my leave and talk with President Hepper."

"Of course, Renaud. I think the last guest has arrived and Apolline should call us all in for dinner in a short bit."

The man did a slight bow to Apolline. "I am sure it will be as fine as always."

When the man left, her parents looked to them. "I do not believe you introduced Harry to everyone," her mother stated.

"I know, maman, but President Hepper has requested to sit aside Harry," Gabrielle told her mother.

The woman stood still for a moment. "Alain, would you excuse me for a few?"

"Of course, my love," her father replied. As she walked away, the man chuckled. "Already making waves, my young friend?"

Harry just nodded and when they sat, Harry was surprised. As far as he knew, to be sat two seats from Alain Delacour, with Gabrielle between them, at the head of the table was a spot of great importance and honor. Across from him was the French Minister and a dark hair woman he had not met yet. Harry was assuming it was the Minister's wife. Next to Harry was President Hepper and then the lesser dignitaries were spread down the table to Apolline. Eighteen-people sat at the table tonight.

Alain stood and everyone calmed down. "I would like to thank you, everyone, for coming this evening. As usual, this is not a state dinner or for any formal politicking, but a night of fun, and as some say, to let your hair down," he stated.

"To start it off, my family would like to extend our gratitude for those that are here. Minister and Madam Montresor. President and Mr. Hepper. Their son. My esteemed colleagues from the ICW, Mr. and Mrs. Sjoberg," he motioned to the Swedish representatives.

"Mr. and Mrs. Bouvier. " The Canadian representative.

"Mr. and Mrs. Smith. " The American Representative.

"Mr. Turner." The American Counselor.

"Mr. and Mrs. Robertson." Harry had no clue who they were.

"And finally, Scion Potter," Alain acknowledged Harry. "With the introductions, I would propose a toast." Everyone took up a crystal wine glass, Harry joining Gabrielle as she took up hers. "To the health of those sharing this dinner and the happiness of all our families."

Everyone held up their glasses before taking a drink.

When Alain sat, a half-dozen house elves came into the hall and snapped their fingers. Salads and bread, along with tureens of soup, appeared before them. President Hepper looked to him. "Would you mind if I call you Harry for the night, Scion Potter? I do prefer dropping our titles when we can. You may call me Rosie for the night, if you like."

"Thank you, Rosie," he replied, feeling odd to call this woman that right off the bat. "I would prefer Harry."

She nodded and reached for some dressing to put on her salad. "I hear you are a fairly good quidditch player?"

"Yes, ma'am. I've been the Gryffindor's Seeker since my first year."

"Impressive. I take it you really enjoy it then?"

Harry smiled as he ladled some white soup into his bowl. "It's brilliant. I love the chase."

"You sound like my daughter, who is still at Ilvermorny. It is a disappointment that the European schools have not accepted our invitations to make an inter-school league the last few years."

Harry's eyes went wide. "That is disappointing," he echoed. "I would have liked to face off against other schools. Maybe have a real challenge for once."

She looked at him. "A challenge?"

"'Arry 'as lost only t'ice," Gabrielle answered for him.

Harry cast her a quick glance. Apparently, Hermione had told her more than he thought. Harry knew that had not come up in their letters. "Twice? Out of how many games?" President Hepper inquired.

"Eighteen," Harry replied.

"You didn't do that well 'our first year?" Gabrielle prompted.

Harry shook his head. "I lost once third year when dementors swarmed the pitch and then fifth year when a mental replacement for my keeper hit me with a bludger. My normal keeper was out with the dragon flu that game."

"Dementors? Why would there be dementors at a Quidditch game?" Mr. Smith questioned him from across the table.

"Ask Minister Fudge. He was the one who placed them there after my godfather escaped Azkaban," Harry responded.

"I thought that just some fanciful rumor," Minister Montresor stated.

Harry chuckled a little darkly. "It was not, Minister."

President Hepper frowned. "My French is not that good. Your godfather is Sirius Black?"

"Yes, ma'am."

They were talking so much that his bowl was still half full when one of the house elves took it away.

"I understand the man killed a dozen no-maj's while trying to kill another," Mr. Smith put to him.

"Sirius did not kill anyone. It was Peter Pettigrew and was confirmed a few years ago after Pettigrew was caught in Albania," Harry told them.

"Jeremy, you should know this," President Hepper replied.

"You can never tell what is truth and not from the British Ministry or papers," Mr. Smith supplied.

"I can confirm it," Alain spoke up. "The Head Mugwump himself was required to avow for Mr. Pettigrew when the ICW sent him back to England for a trial. He was questioned before being remanded and his story verified."

Harry remembered that. It was a trial that had caused a huge kerfuffle. During the trial it came out the Dark Mark could only be taken if you meant it and right after you had killed someone. There was not a single Death Eater that had not murdered at least one person.

The uproar that had caused had bogged the trial down for months as the Unspeakables were asked to confirm the allegations. By Christmas of Harry's fourth-year, nearly a third of the Wizengamot or the Pure Blood Houses were running or trying to prove otherwise. Even two years later, the fallout from that was still playing out with Aurors trying to find those that escaped and more than sixty others in Azkaban now.

"I was there for that vote. It was a near thing," Mr. Sjoberg said with a slight Swedish accent. "The representatives from Bulgaria, Poland and Turkey were very much against the extradition."

"That was only because some in their governments didn't want to face the same issue," Mr. Smith replied.

Gabrielle leaned in as the table started to talk about Pettigrew, the Death Eaters and corruption in a few other governments. "I am sorry. I did not know this would happen tonight when papa invited you."

"As long as you swear you didn't do this on purpose, I will forgive you," Harry replied.

She nudged his hand with hers as the main course was put on the table. "How gracious of you," she said in a joking tone.

Harry inclined his head to her. "As long as you agree to go out Sunday, we are good." It was a lot bolder than he usually was, but he found he liked the warmth of her hand brushing his.

"I look forward to it. I have only been to the Louvre once and would like to see some other sights," she told him, a hint of excitement on her voice. "You are coming tomorrow?"

"Yes. I have never been to a ballet."

"It is wonderful. I hope you will enjoy it."

"I will enjoy seeing you," he replied with a smirk, hoping to get a rise out of her.

She returned the smile he had on his own face. Harry straightened out the napkin on his lap as the conversation was heating up more when President Hepper turned to him, "I was hoping to meet you when I heard you were in France this week. We have heard many interesting things about you in the United States. Things my Aurors say might be true and are related to what is being discussed."

Harry pursed his lips. It had been quiet the last few years, but his first three years at Hogwarts and before had been anything but. "I will do my best, but there are things I do not wish to talk about," he answered.

She regarded him sideways for a moment. "Is it true you killed a man known as Voldemort?"

Harry knew this would be one of the questions that came up tonight. It usually was when he met new people. What surprised him was when a hand suddenly found its way into his under the table. Harry knew that wasn't proper for a formal dinner like this. He also had no clue why Gabrielle would do that. They had only held hands that one time in the orchards at the Burrow. It wasn't like they were seeing each other, but there was something about the small hand with long fingers that was soothing. It helped that Gabrielle had done that as he knew everyone within earshot was listening.

After a moment, Harry decided on the truth. "I am unsure what happened when I was a baby, but I didn't kill him."

The woman's eyes rose in surprise and a few other stopped to even pretend they were eating.

"That is not what your government says."

Harry snorted. "I am not a fan of Minister Fudge, but I can tell you that I have seen what is left of Voldemort and have faced him twice since I came into the wizarding world."

The man next to the French Minister didn't look very believing. "I read the reports about the English Civil war in the seventies. There is no possible way anyone could survive the killing curse or for someone to be disintegrated and still live."

Harry, not willing to put up with any shite about this tonight - probably Sirius' influence, who didn't put up with it either - lifted the fringe of hair that was over his forehead to clearly show his scar. "I can confirm, Mr. Smith, this scar was left by the killing curse. As to how Voldemort survived, I have no clue. Maybe you should talk with Dumbledore."

President Hepper gave her ICW Representative a small glare. "We are here to have a good time and make friends. Please excuse Mr. Smith, he just voices some of the same questions we have all had."

"I 'ave tried to talk with Dumblydoor," Minister Montresor said.

Gabrielle squeezed his hand. He felt an anger he hadn't felt for a while come up and her touch help to keep it in check. "Minister Montresor, Madam President and Representative Smith," Harry replied with proper titles. It was a trick Sirius had taught him to help establish his own credentials, even superiority depending on who. "I do not know much more than the fact Voldemort was reduced to something just barely alive the night my parents were killed. If you want other details, you will have to talk to Dumbledore, but he hasn't even talked to me in almost three years."

Alain stepped in. "I think that is enough for now, Rosie and Renaud. Scion Potter is here as a family guest of my daughter tonight. It was you that asked to meet him. I did not invite him to be ambushed."

"Alain, I won't be naïve why you invited us here and who you picked. We all know the rumors that have hit our shores in the last few months," President Hepper replied.

"I do, Rosie, but perhaps this is a conversation for after dinner?" Alain pressed. "As I said, Scion Potter was invited as a family guest. These dinners are hosted by my family as a way for us to relax and talk in ways we never would at a State affair or other gathering."

Harry was surprised at the way both the Minister and President deferred to Alain. Minister Montresor nodded his head. "Excuse me, Alain. This is not the proper setting. Are you in country for a few more days, Seigneur Potter?"

"My godfather and I return Monday, but I could talk with him if you wish to meet, Minister," Harry offered, wanting to do anything but.

The man nodded his head. "I will have my secretary extend an invitation."

"You know I can't understand French. My Counselors have been trying to get an interview with Dumbledore, that fool Fudge and the International Cooperation Department at the English Ministry for months. I would like to ask Mr. Potter some questions and maybe get a way to get my own Aurors in on this," President Hepper pressed.

Harry closed his eyes for a moment. He was going to say something, but Alain held up his hand. "Gabrielle, you and Harry are excused. Please give him a tour of the house?"

Gabrielle let go of his hand, took her napkin, and folded it nicely to put it on her plate. Harry was glaring at President Hepper and most of the other Americans at the table. There were things Harry knew, but he wasn't willing to talk about it.

Harry backed his chair out. "Harry, please stay," President Hepper ordered.

He pulled the chair out for Gabrielle before turning to the table. "It has been a pleasure to meet you all."

Gabrielle took his arm as most around the table looked unsure, uncaring, or upset. He walked out without saying another word. Gabrielle tried to guide him, but Harry just marched for the first door he saw and when it closed, he found themselves in a small receiving room.

"Harry, I am sorry. I can assure you my family never meant for this," Gabrielle was saying immediately.

Harry pinched his nose. "What the bloody hell was that! I was just ambushed by two of the most powerful people in our world and your father just told them to go sod off!"

"I do not know 'hat t'at was, 'Arry. I promise mon papa and maman did not mean that. I am sure t'ey t'ought it a treat for you to meet t'em," Gabrielle was saying.

"Well, it wasn't a treat. I felt like I was held to the fire from the time we sat," he replied angrily, waving his hand towards the door.

Gabrielle looked upset. "'Arry, it 'as not meant to be t'at way." He pinched his nose again. "Are you s'ill 'ungry?"

He let out a big sigh. "You know you butcher your English even worse when you are upset," he told her, hoping to forget what just happened and to not see her as upset. Something told him it was her fault.

She looked at him, her mouth open. "I butcher your language, little peasant?" she replied, and he laughed.

"Bloody hell," he said exclaimed looking at her. Her deep blue eyes were regarding him apprehensively while her hands were across her chest as she gave him a mock glare. "I never said how nice you look tonight," he complimented her, not wanting to be angry with her.

That seemed to take her completely off guard and a little colour came to her cheeks. Harry liked it. "Thank you. You look handsome, though your hair could use a comb."

He chuckled and shook his head. "If you can find a way to tame it, I'll give you a hundred galleons."

She moved and raised a hand to his head. She didn't get to do or say anything as the door to the dining room opened and Harry noticed that a few others were leaving. Apolline stepped in looking absolutely stormy, her eyes a more purple color than blue. "Incredible! I have never seen such a rude woman or others enter this house. We ask them here out of a common courtesy, and she offends three of our guests. The fucking hag! The last President would never have done that, nor was he so uncouth. The hag set up her Representative and Consular to get up to that! I have never..."

Apolline spouted off in rapid French. As she got more worked up, her eyes turned a darker purple.

"That woman and all those that report to her will never be allowed back into this house! I don't care if it is a State Affair or not. If I meet her outside the ICW or Ministry..."

"Maman," Gabrielle called out, looking just as upset as her mother.

Apolline stopped and looked at them. Unconsciously he had moved a little closer to Gabrielle. There was something dangerous in the power coming off the woman. She didn't visibly calm until his wand came to his hand from the holster on his right arm. Reflexively his magic roiled to his unexpected need.

After a few breathes, Apolline addressed him. "Harry, there is no need to protect my daughter. It is not either of you I am upset with."

He blinked and realized he had half-stepped before Gabrielle and his wand tip was glowing, ready to cast whatever came to his mind. He let his magic retreat inside of him. "I wasn't trying..."

He trailed off when Apolline held up her hand, looking as though she was still fighting for control over herself. "We owe an apology. Alain and I had no clue that would happen. Please accept our apology."

He gave a heavy sigh and slipped his wand back up his sleeve. "I did not mean to draw my wand in your house," he made his own apology, knowing that could be very rude.

A small smile came over Apolline's face. "I would never harm my kin or a guest in my house that has done no wrong. You were very polite and treated our guests with respect, even if they did not do the same," she snipped at the end.

"Perhaps I should go then?" Harry replied.

"I would prefer you to stay for a bit. I am still famished, and I am sure Remy and Etsy will serve us what is left over," Gabrielle offered.

"I wouldn't want to impose," Harry answered.

Apolline moved in and took his face, kissing both cheeks. "It is no imposition. You are always welcome at the Delacours. Go enjoy a dinner with my daughter. Gabrielle, take Harry to the kitchen. Papa and I will join you once everyone leaves."

Harry's cheeks heated up. No one had done that to him. It wasn't just that it was a beautiful woman, but there was a sense of familiarity he had never quite experienced before.

"Yes, maman. The kitchens are this way," Gabrielle said while taking his hand.

He turned to Gabrielle, feeling a little flush. "Are you sure?"

"You could use a French lesson," she informed him. Harry laughed and allowed her to pull him away.

-oOo-

August 23, 1997

Paris, France

Harry was tapping his foot on the stone floor of their apartment. It was on the other side of Paris and was the smallest of the properties that Sirius or him owned. It had three bedrooms, a single dining room, a sitting room, a formal receiving room, a central entry hall, a small kitchen and three bathrooms. It was also one of Harry's favorites because of its size. It felt just right for a small family or two bachelors.

"Sirius, are you ready yet," Harry called out down the hall towards his godfather's room.

"We aren't meeting the Delacours or Renee for another twenty minutes," the man called back.

Harry knew this, but he wanted to go. He hadn't left the very apologetic Delacours until after midnight last night. It had been a very nice dinner with lots of laughing and stories that had Gabrielle bright red and threatening her papa. It was so much better than the disastrous night it had started out as.

When they were done, Gabrielle had finally given him a tour of the house. It was built to house a large family and their servants. At one time, like many magical families, they had been more numerous, and many times, multiple generations shared one roof. When Gabrielle had dragged him to a small ballroom on the second floor, he got Gabrielle talking about the ballet, and he got his own private recital with explanation of what he was going to see her perform today.

Harry was looking forward to seeing Gabrielle dance. He was also hoping to get another kiss on his cheek. She had given him another after his private recital. He would be lying to himself that he didn't want more of a kiss, but one from the quarter-veela was enough to leave an impression. Two had him smitten with her.

"I just want to go," Harry whinged. He wasn't usually like this.

Sirius laughed and stuck his head out the door of his room. "Someone has it bad, hey pup? Just keep your pants on until later and we'll be there on time," Sirius teased him.

Harry huffed. He didn't want to wait.

When Sirius walked out about a minute until four, Harry was about ready to hex the old mutt, who seemed to be taking his time on purpose. "Your hair needs a brush," Sirius muttered.

"You don't think I didn't try?"

Sirius laughed. "James had the same problem. You ready."

Harry made an aggravated sound at his godfather. Sirius winked and apparated away. Harry joined in a split second later. "I hate you," Harry gruffed as they walked out of the alley.

"I can live with that," Sirius told him.

Gabrielle's recital didn't start until four-thirty, with the junior troupe up first, but Harry just wanted to be here.

Alain, Apolline and Renee were outside the theater waiting for them. Alain looked at his watch. "A minute late," the man teased.

Harry huffed. "My apologies, Alain."

Apolline gave a soft laugh. "Don't let him give you a hard time. There is still plenty of time to go sit. Are those flowers for Gabrielle?"

"Yes, Apolline. I was told it is traditional to present them to the prima ballerina when she is done." Harry cradled the large bouquet of flowers he had bought earlier.

"'oh Sweet," Renee said from Sirius side.

Harry tried not to flush at the look from Gabrielle's cousin or the knowing look of her mother. "Harry, would you mind escorting me tonight?" Apolline requested.

He looked at Alain, who only held out his hand in an inviting way. "I get her to myself much of the time," Alain told him in a jovial way.

Harry held out his arm and Apolline took it. "Gabrielle will be very pleased to get those. For the future, purple roses or ranunculus are her favorite."

The butterflies that had been in his stomach for a while turned into rocks. "Should I go get some different ones?"

She laughed at him. "No. Those are perfect. I was just letting you know, if you get her flowers again."

"You are sure?" he asked unsure.

"Yes, Harry. Gabrielle will love them."

Harry looked around the opulent hall as they walked into a private box on the left side of theater. It was next to the stage and one level up. Looking around, it spoke of a very prestigious opera and ballet house. Harry had never been to anything like this. "I wanted to apologize and thank you again for last night. Gabrielle enjoyed her time with you after the dinner."

Harry smiled as she sat next to him. Alain was on her other side, and Sirius and Renee behind them. "You have a spectacular house."

Apolline nodded her head. "I am afraid it will feel empty once our last little bird flies away. It is not easy for those of veela-blood to find friends or mates. There is no lack of suitors, as you may have noticed how many heads turn to my daughters, but there are very few who see us for who we are."

Harry looked at her, trying to understand if she was saying what he thought she was.

She had a pleasant smile on her face as she watched the orchestra come out and get their instruments ready as the hall filled in. Alain was talking with Sirius and Renee. "Apolline, I am not sure if Gabrielle and I are like that yet. I am enjoying her company and would like to spend more time with her... as friends, you know," he finished lamely, not wanting to say how much he liked her to her parents.

When her light blue eyes found his, there was a knowing look in them that mirrored her smile. "Harry, when you look down, how many eyes to you see on myself or Renee?"

Harry looked down. There were quite a few men either casting furtive looks at them or outright staring.

"My mother is a full veela. The effect of the full allure would not allow myself or my niece to sit here without some of them trying to throw themselves at us. Being a half-veela many will want to, and some do. For us, it is much more than longing that men want us for. Our beauty and having us in their beds being the primary feelings they get from the allure. They will do foolish things, but it is not the same as my mother. Gabrielle and Fleur have an allure almost as strong as myself, but I have never seen the lust in your eyes I see in some of those faces."

Harry looked back down and saw what she was saying. Harry liked Gabrielle. He found her incredibly attractive and had to admit he had found thoughts of her in various states of dress exciting, but he never wanted to look at her like he saw some men looking at Apolline.

"I never meant to look at Gabrielle or any of you like that," Harry told her feeling incredibly guilty.

She gave a tinkling laugh. "Harry, I tell you this not because you have looked at us like that, but because of the opposite. Like Alain, you see us for what we are. Women. Very few men can see through the allure like that. Yes, I see how attracted you are to Gabrielle, and how attracted she is to you, but you do not see us as just objects of sex. It is easy for those of veela-blood to know. If you wish to continue this courtship dance you have started with our daughter, Alain and I would be pleased with that."

Harry looked at her as though he didn't know what to say.

"If you do not like Gabrielle that way, then I would recommend you not see her tomorrow, perhaps this evening as well. When a veela-blood decides they have found a mate, nothing will dissuade them of that. If she decides you are the one she wants, she will never find another that will invoke the same feelings. As a mother, I do not want to see her hurt in that way if you do not feel the same. Also, as a mother, I find you a very good match for Gabrielle in the short time we have known you. It is not any man that would stand up to an angry veela-blood as you were about too last night."

She gave him a significant look as though she had weighed him and found him worthy.

He swallowed, feeling nervous. "You think Gabrielle likes me that way?"

Apolline's smile was full of real joy. "I think even a blind person could see it."

He couldn't keep the flush off his face as the orchestra started and everyone quieted down. A moment later the lights dimmed.

Apolline leaned into him. "I do not want to see you run away, but you must understand what it is to catch a veela-bloods' attention in that way. We are creatures of great passion and induce great passion in others, but we are fragile as well. It can take a single meeting or years to decide on a mate, but either way, a man has the power to bring us to ruin or raise us to great heights. I can see Gabrielle is close to making her decision. I just ask you treat our little golden bird with the respect you have been."

"I would never disrespect Gabrielle," Harry tried to assure her.

Apolline patted his arm. "If I thought otherwise, I would have chased you away that night of Bill and Fleur's rehearsal dinner. Now, let us enjoy the Junior Troupe, and then our little golden bird will be the belle of the night."

Harry turned as the girls who looked to be maybe twelve to mid-teens started to dance. He saw them but didn't really watch them. His mind was going over everything Apolline had just told him. He had just been told that she wanted him to court her daughter, but to make himself scarce if his intentions were anything but to marry her someday.

He thought he would be afraid of Alain and this talk. Not Apolline.

Was it true that if a veela-blood fell in love - well decided on a mate, but Harry wouldn't be able just to see her that way - they would only love that one person for the rest of their lives? Was Gabrielle looking at him that way? Was Harry looking at her that way?

He held the flowers in his arms as he swirled around the conversation in his head.

He wished he had Hermione to talk with. Or Neville. Ron would never understand this. All he would see was that Gabrielle wanted to shag him. Well, Ron would probably understand after a little bit, but at first his mind would be on the sexual allure of the veela-blood. He saw the way Ron had looked at Fleur, Gabrielle, Apolline and Renee. It was the same reaction he had seen in Dean.

Sirius would listen, take the mickey out of him, and then probably give some sage advice. Sirius already had. He had warned Harry of some of this, though Harry didn't think Sirius really understood it this way when he had talked to Harry.

When the first recital was over, Harry was shaken out of his thoughts as the hall erupted in applause. He hadn't even noticed it had ended. He clapped, feeling a little guilty for not paying attention, but his thoughts were a little bit larger than a recital that ended within thirty minutes. He was thinking of what might be the rest of his life. The rest of Gabrielle's life.

It would not be like him and Hermione, who just split and stayed the same friends they were already. Nor would it be like Ginny, where they both obviously felt heartbroken for a bit when they both decided to split. This would be the real broken heart of a sweet, thoughtful, driven young woman that would never find another mate. As he thought more about it, he was wondering if Apolline meant like mate, as in lovers and the one that would father her children... If she chose Harry as her mate and he rejected her, would she ever be able to have children or love someone else?

He was still in thought when someone knocked him on the shoulder. "You there, pup?"

"Yeah," Harry responded, sounding a thousand miles away.

Sirius laughed. "No, you aren't. What did Apolline say to you?'

Harry took in a deep breath and let it out before turning to Sirius. They were the only ones in the box for the intermission. "Sirius, when a veela-blood chooses a mate, does that mean that will be the only man they love for the rest of their lives?"

Sirius looked at him for a moment. "You really don't do things by half, do you?"

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "Do you know?"

His godfather looked at him for a moment as though searching for something. "Merlin, you are in deeper than I thought. Does Gabrielle think you her mate?"

"Apolline doesn't think so, but she thinks if I keep courting Gabrielle, she will soon," Harry replied.

Sirius sat back, his hands in his lap. Harry was looking expectantly at Sirius. After what felt like an eternity, his godfather finally said, "Pup, if you like her, I would say you keep going. I don't know anything about veela - did you say veela-blood?"

Harry nodded.

"I don't know how veela-blood works with mates, Harry. Maybe I should find out from Renee. All I can say is go with your gut. Love isn't supposed to be one of those things that is always rational, and you never know when it will hit. If it was rational, your father wouldn't have chased after your mother for five years until she was mental enough to say yes."

Harry gave a nervous laugh. "I don't think this is a five year thing, Sirius."

Sirius shrugged. "Maybe not. Do you like her?"

Harry didn't answer as Apolline, and Renee returned. He turned back around and watched as the orchestra was returning. He didn't say a word as he just watched the stage. He felt a little bored for the first moment or two as some man danced around the stage. When the back curtain lifted, Harry found Gabrielle even before she was in sight. She looked like an elf-girl. It was as though there was a light in her and Harry couldn't take his eyes off her lithe form as she tried to entice the man to drink something.

As he watched her, he felt his heart drop as she disappeared after the troll stole her.

When she was gone, it was like he could think again. Not that he couldn't think while she was on the stage, but it was different. His thoughts were lighter when he watched her. It was more brooding when she wasn't on the stage.

When she came back for the troll brothers to fight over her, Harry had the stupid urge to go protect her.

When it was over, Apolline leaned over. "She is an excellent ballerina. This was an excellent performance to be her last."

Harry just nodded, not feeling as conflicted. "Why is she leaving?"

"Gabrielle is a dancer, but she has bigger dreams," Apolline told him.

After the Senior troupe did their performance, Harry followed the Delacours as they made it to the now crowded atrium. The atrium was very large. Even with its size, he couldn't see what was happening on the other side was where the dancers were coming out. Harry let out a breath when he caught sight of Gabrielle's long silvery-blonde hair as they walked down to the floor.

It was hard to get close, with a knot of people around five of the prima ballerinas and their male counterparts. When they finally made it to the front, Harry felt a little self-conscious to see all the flowers around them. He also felt a jealousy grip him at the site of three young men giving Gabrielle more attention than he wanted them to.

Her eyes immediately met his, her face spread into a huge smile and she bounded to him. "You came!"

Harry took her into his arms as she hugged him. Her feet didn't touch the floor. It was the best feeling in the world to have her lithe form pressed into him. He caught the sour look from the young men that had been talking to her and he returned a hard look. "You were magnificent," he told her, returning her hard hug.

When she finally let go and stepped back, she quickly hugged her parents and then Renee. "Wonderful performance, little golden bird," Alain praised.

"I think you would have choice for any dance troupe you wanted," Renee said.

Gabrielle looked a little flush. "I wasn't that good."

"You were brilliant," Harry gave her his own praise. "Uhm... These are for you."

The flowers were a little mangled now from when she had thrown herself at him, all the other flowers forgotten. She took them with a huge smile. "T'ank you, 'Arry."

"You deserve them."

She jumped at him again, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and he hugged her, oblivious to the snickers from Sirius, and the subsequent hit from Renee and warning to leave them alone. She kissed him on the cheek again before letting go and turning to someone else that had come up to congratulate her.

-oOo-

August 24, 1997

Paris, France

Harry had no idea how large the Louvre was. They were walking through the fourth hall of paintings. Gabrielle was looking at them all, taking her time. "I love wizarding paintings, but the no-maj talent is just as impressive, non?"

Harry hadn't really been looking at the paintings. He had been enjoying the look on her face as she was serious as she studied them, a small smile coming over her face when she found one she liked, or a frown if she didn't. For the last three halls her hand had been in his and the warmth and tingling he felt at the touch was more entrancing than the paintings.

Harry looked at the one she was looking at. It was a large painting, almost as tall as them, with nymphs dancing in the water. "They are very impressive," he replied.

She giggled. "Where you even looking at this?"

He felt his face flush a little. He hadn't missed how often her eyes drifted to him as they walked. "I may have been distracted," he confessed.

The smile she gave him made his insides squirm with a certain happiness. "I am that much of a distraction?"

She had no idea... "I think a statue or painting of you would be the star attraction," he said before he realized what he was saying. Maybe it was the many eyes he saw on her, or it was how he truly felt. He knew it wasn't the allure that was pulling him to her. Not after Apolline's conversation yesterday. It was an honest attraction to her.

Gabrielle's face flushed now. He hoped Apolline was right and those of veela-blood could tell someone who was being insincere or not.

On a whim, he moved in and pecked her on her cheek for the first time. He had stayed up long after midnight last night thinking of what Apolline and Sirius had said. He had never felt this way towards anyone before.

Gabrielle looked surprised for a moment before she looked at him, her deep blue eyes taking on a smoldering look that really stirred something in him. After a moment, she pecked his cheek. "Do you have to go back tomorrow?"

Harry really didn't want to. "I do. Are you coming to Hogwarts?"

"Oui."

Harry knew that two months was going to be rough not seeing her, but he would write and hope the feelings he had for her were reciprocated. She took his hand in both of hers and they continued down the hall, both walking much closer. Some were now casting envious looks at Harry and ones of even more longing for Gabrielle. Neither of the teens noticed.