Thanks to Japanese-Jew for the correction/reminder about the Islamic division. I did know that the problem was fundamentally between elect versus blood succession. But when I was thinking about it, I recalled the family and supporters of Aisha, Mohammad's youngest and favorite wife being on one side, and Ali and his guys on another. I guess I assumed Ali came from another (wife) branch of the family, but that wasn't the case. So, I was wrong on that, kudos for him. But I could still make the case that because of the allowance for harem, you had these internal tensions. Though that would be weak, since the main problem seems to have been there was no prior agreement for succession so power politics ended up taking over.

AN: OMG, MV notified me about that review rule. Responses to reviews are not allowed in the chapters? I mean wtf! Not even crack would make them come up with such a rule. Ff staff must be on like supped up uber-crack or whatever. I'm sure the drug cartels would kill for that kind of stuff. ( . )

Credits: Credit for concept of bodily degradation in this chapter via use of specific branch of corrosive magic goes to LT2000/Dark Serapheth. The term chaos magic doesn't mean the same thing though.

Don't think I did anything overt, (feel free to check) but I did read the new chapters Jeconais got out for his Harry-Gabrielle 'fairytale,' Hope, so I definitely might have or will be inspired somewhat by it when I write the Gabrielle moments.

Rating: Only light fluff I think. Harry saves AU Gabrielle, but rest assured nothing, I repeat, NOTHING would develop form this. I did add three years to her cannon age, so she's 13 so I can use her character should I feel the need to.

AU Timeline: Right now, I think I have it set as 1996, so people in Harry's year would be in 6th year. I might change it later, but I think this time works for me.

Chapter 4: Developments

"Papa!"

"Juste une minute, ma petite."

The office was bristling with school officials and French Aurors.

"Sir, he's awake, sir." Philip Delacour nodded as he quickly finished giving orders to have sentries placed around the school. Gathering his hyper-excited child, he walked out. As he strolled towards to the infirmary, he thanked the gods for having gotten to his daughter in time. When report came of a Death Eater intrusion at Beauxbatons, he just knew his youngest one was in trouble.

He never expected this when he convinced the minister and the cabinet to directly oppose the English dark lord? In seeking to preserve peace, he had made his family and country the targets of deranged lunatics. All the while…the British ministry officials prefer to sit on their asses and twiddle their thumbs!

"Papa?" Gabrielle questioned hesitantly.

Philip sighed, before forcing himself to remain calm. That's right; his daughter was empathetic and susceptible to the emotions of others.

"Desolee, ma petite." Gabrielle only nodded.

Looking at the small girl, Philip was saddened to see how tired his child was. Her friends told of her valiant efforts to fight back, but even so, if that stranger didn't intervene… Philip shuddered at some of the things those disgusting creatures had done. Even the worst deeds of lusting vampires and frenzied werewolves come close.

That said, he had been rather shocked at the sight of the young man, an Englishman apparently, who carried a striking resemblance to one of his friends across the channel, who used to work in its ministry. Indeed, this man was almost a carbon copy of James Potter. Was this was a Death Eater trick or just some coincidence?

Un –fucking – believable. But there was no other explanation. He, Harry James Potter, was in another world and in the past, sometime before the new millennium by his best guess. It didn't take long for Harry to realize this school most certainly wasn't his Beauxbatons. And he already checked for illusions…there was none.

What's more his powers seemed to have been significantly reduced as a result and he was now cut off from his allies, armies and resources and most importantly his girls.

So that's what my chest pain was from. Not good, especially when he has no means of communication.

One would expect Harry to have panicked right? But no, in some ways, Harry, though no seer, was sensitive to the ways of destiny and fate, and had sensed some great change for him. Still it didn't mean he was pleased with this.

Bloody fate's fault. Somehow, Harry knew that bitch was pulling his puppet strings again. But god forbid, he be slammed into part of some other prophecy to fight another Voldemort…. That's why he had Luna, so she could warn him of these things. At least whoever tossed him here could have left him with his powers in tact.

Speaking of power; that was going to be a major problem. Going from a god to a pipsqueak didn't sit well with him. But Harry was thankful that a closer examination quickly proved that he still had ALL of his powers…he just couldn't use 99 of them. Hence why he got trounced by those pathetic humans, which made him feel a little better. His injuries were practically all healed before he even came to. Not surprising even in his world, France was the R&D leader in magical healing and therapeutic treatments. Gaining the allegiance and control of the country's medical corps went a long way in keeping Harry's allied battle casualties down.

But still, even as his physical body was now fine, he still gain access to his magic. Harry figured out the problem rather quickly. It seems that his semi-immortal body in the other world had experienced so many transformations and augmentation processes, that it functioned much differently from a normal human body. Therefore, when Harry was in control of a mortal human body once again, it didn't quite respond quite the way he wanted it in battle. Quickly, Harry gained access to whatever piece of his magic that was compatible with his present body.

It was going to be a while before he was comfortable with his magic again, kind of like breaking your legs and learning to ride a bike again…in a matter of speaking. And redoing a few of those transformation rituals was going to be a pain. But on the plus side, he knew which ones were useful and which ones were not. It's like he's got a clean slate to work with now.

But there was one problem he couldn't solve easily and without a massive bloodbath. How was he going to access his divine powers? Arcane/chaos magic, the very powers of creation and destruction. That was made him unique, a god amongst simple mortals… But alas, if he tried to harness it now, his mortal body would undoubtedly disintegrate…no it wouldn't kill him per say, just allow his demon sprit to run wild until he consumed sufficient magic to reconstruct a mortal body. For some reason, that idea didn't appeal to him.

"Bloody hell." Harry mumbled, something that for some reason spooked the hell out of the two French aurors guarding him nearby. Three of them were there when he first came to before one left. Seeing that they weren't posing as a threat to him, Harry ignored them for now.

None of his girls were around, so he was essentially cut off for the time being. This was bad, very bad. Ever since Lolth applied the curse, he always had access to 'approved' means of release just in case. His girls made sure of that, of course. In return, Harry has always been loyal, as loyal as one can be in his position.

He needed to find some way of releasing his sexual tensions or he's liable to come apart. Taking up simple minded muggle or even witch hookers was out of the question and not because of STDs; oh no that was definitely not a problem for him. The problem was that normal humans, even moderately powerful witches, were too weak magically such that he would need dozens if not hundreds to satisfy him in a time of desperate need. Demonic lust, was not only more passionate and lust filled, it was also inherently violent and sadistic from a human's point of view. For simple biological purposes, unmodified humans were ill-suited subjects. Ideally, elves, veelas, vampires and werewolves, being more infused with magic itself, were preferable targets, but… even so part of his consciousness seemed moderately revolted with the idea of using another being for such a self-serving purpose.

Blasted human morality… Harry snorted mentally. But no matter, considering his most recent tryst with temporary abstinence, he should have enough time to think of something. Besides, that last evening with his pet elf also satisfied even his most basal urges quite completely.

Briefly, Harry sensed two familiar and yet different beings enter the infirmary.

"Bonjour monsieur. I apologized for the accommodations." The man nodding to the guards. "What has happened here has shaken everyone. I see that you have recovered nicely."

"Thanks to your healers were incredible." Answered Harry in English.

"Nonsense, it was the least we could do. Please allow me to introduce myself. I am…"

"…Philip Delacour."

The Frenchman did well to contain his surprise. Harry smiled at the man before him. He seemed to possess every bit of the charisma and charm his old ally did. The loss of his family was a crushing blow to him, to Gabrielle and perhaps even to the magical world itself. Harry effectively lost faith in the ability of his fellow human beings to govern themselves.

"Indeed, I'm the French Deputy Minister of Defense. I would like to be the first to thank you for your help. Without you, there would be many grieving parents right now, including me. I offer you the gratitude of the French government and a parent." The respectable French official gave a small bow as gesture of his sincerity. Harry didn't doubt him one bit.

"This is Gabrielle, the light of our family. She's only 13 and it would have crushed us to have lost her."

Harry smiled at the shy girl, who blushed at being introduced to her savior and only gave a weak greeting. She looked exactly like his Gabrielle did at age 13…well not exactly. From superficially reading her aura, Harry could tell this one really was an innocent angel at this point. By age 13, his Gabrielle had already lost her child-like innocence.

"Je vous'en prie, monsieur Delacour. Je suis heureux d'avoir pu aider, particulierement une belle mademoiselle telle."

This time the Frenchman didn't try to hold in his surprise as the young man graciously shrugged away the thanks while lightly complimenting in French his daughter, an act which sent her blushing once again. It was rare now days to see his child act her age, normally she was much too serious. Besides, the young man was handsome and was so far, a perfect gentleman.

"Tu parles francais?"

"Un peu." Harry smiled. Actually, he was possibly one of the most talented linguists in the world by virtue of necessity. After all, to lead the myriad of species and races, he had to at least be able to communicate with them in their natural languages. Magic of course helped, but it was still an impressive feat.

"Vraiment. May I ask, who are you? I'm sorry to say, you resemble a friend I know, who's also English."

"Who?" Harry was almost certain what the answer was.

"James Potter. Used to be an auror for their ministry. Last I heard, he quit and happily began a teaching career. You know him?"

Harry leaned back against the bed. His…father and mother, presumably, alive and well. How long was it when such an idea was still a dream of his? Before his descend into darkness? Before the Elven wars, the conquest of the magical world? Before the betrayals?

… too long. Much too long ago. It's like waking up Christmas morning to find a present he wished for twenty years ago. But he should be happy right?

"Are you alright, monsieur?" Philip was really concerned and curious now. Clearly, this young man knows or know of James, so who was he? And why was he down there in the chamber beneath the school. For some reason, he liked the boy, not the least of which because he saved his precious daughter, but who was he really and as his politician's side is itching to know: what was his agenda?

"Perfectly."

Should he reveal himself. To his old French comrade, to the world? Now when it seems this world's Voldemort is still alive and active in France no less, when all his would be friends, enemies, and victims are alive…

Or should he oblivate the man and overpower his guards? He could easily at this point even with only minimum access to his powers and magic. But then he would be on the run… no friends, no contacts…

Why go through that? He's here…in a brand new world with more knowledge of the past and future than any all the merlins of history. And there's no one after him… no one to worship him as well, but having the ignorant masses graveling before him, had been at times a curse.

The machinations of Voldemort and Dumbledore, assuming he's alive, could be trouble eventually but he was certain he would have little problem with handling them should the need arise. This time, surprise and knowledge was on his side. Based on the fact that Gabrielle's 13, then it must be 1996-1997 right now. Once he read up on what was different about this world, he believed it wouldn't be too difficult to set up future events to his liking.

As to how he should answer Delacour's question about who he is. Oh what the heck…

"I guess you can say I know of James Potter. He's father. I'm Harry James Potter."

Harry laughed, wishing he had a camera with him. He knew Catherine would have loved to have this Kodak moment of her husband framed. Philip Delacour, the man who didn't gap was gapping with his mouth wide open.

"Wha, how… but their Harry had been dead for years. I even attended the funeral."

Harry wasn't surprised. It made sense that he wouldn't be thrown into a world where another Harry already exists. But what was strange was that he made it sound as if he died recently.

"When was this?"

The Frenchman's demeanor cooled, his features closing.

"About two years ago to a Death Eater attack, on his 14th birthday."

This was interesting news. So, he didn't die to Voldemort, then he most likely wasn't the prophecy boy then. Harry felt better now. He'll be damned if he came all this way to take care of this world's problem.

While he has learned to manipulate prophecies to his end, mostly with help from Luna, doing so was a pain. See, almost all prophecies were self-fulfilling – courtesy of a particularly sadistic fate - so the best way to deal with problematic prophecies was actually to never allow them to be made, i.e. killing would be wayward seers or neutralizing their talents.

"Again, I ask, who are you, stranger? You can't be Harry."

"I'm Harry… just a Harry from another world. I'm a dimensional traveler."

"Wha… but you look too old to be a 16 year old and you don't wear glasses."

Harry frowned. He did look too old. He would guess that he had the image of a healthy, fairly handsome young man of about 19 or 20 years of age. But his physical image was never a problem, since magic in time allowed for the manipulation of physical body almost at will. Besides, the attraction his magic cultivate and breeds far surpasses anything an Adonis could get. The only physical ailment he actively corrected was his eyesight impairment for purely tactical reasons. Being suddenly blind in the middle of a battle just wouldn't do.

"What year is it?"

"It's 1996, why?"

"Because I think I might have traveled back in time too."

Philip really was stupefied.

"I'll have to talk with some people now. Would you be willing to stay here at Beauxbatons until things clear up? I have made arrangements with the headmistress."

"Sure, doesn't look like I can do much else." At this point, Harry's stomach gave an unholy growl.

Philip smiled, while young Gabrielle giggled.

"Gabrielle, would you please get a house elf to send up some supper for Mr. Potter?"

"Oui, papa." As the young girl walked passed Harry, she jumped into the young man, giving her surprised hero a chaste kiss on the cheeks.

"Merci beaucoup, mon chevalier." The blushing Veela had run out the door, leaving behind her chuckling father and a moderately surprised young man.

"It appears that my daughter has become rather fond of you, Mr. Potter."

"She's a very precocious and beautiful daughter. You are very lucky man, Mr. Delacour."

The words came out before Harry thought them through. The French politician clearly picked up on it though.

"I take it that you know of me and my family, Mr. Potter, in your own world."

"You could say that, but only in the best of ways of course, Mr. Delacour."

The Delacour patriarch laughed.

"Please call me Philip."

Surprised, but not unaware of the honor being given to him, Harry answered.

"Only if you call me Harry."

Harry knew Philip chose his friends very carefully and he had considered it one of his greatest achievements to have so thoroughly won the favor of the French politician in his own world. Apparently he even outdid himself now because the senior Delacour had taken a liking to him on their very first encounter.

At this point, TWO house elves popped in with an extravagant set of dishes. Harry quirked an eyebrow at the feast being set up before him.

"The house elves must have felt you deserved a treat for saving all those kids and the school from a shut down, Harry. I'll leave you be then. You are a fascinating young man, Harry. I hope to see you again once you are better rested. I'll also try to have the guards removed as soon as possible." After all, it would be a grave mistake for France to treat the savoir of her children like a convict to be watched.

"I would appreciate it very, much. Thank you, Philip."

As the older man left, Harry dug into his meal and made exaggerated expressions of satisfaction. After that dismal battle, things really were looking up now, especially when the guards even lightened up after being offered some of the delicious meal.

Monsieur Dumbledore…sa blessure … trop grande… elle ne vivra pas probablement…

Je suis desolee…

The wizened headmaster slumped into his chair, the letter falling from his fingers. The portraits watched in astonishment as their successor covered his face with his hands as what seemed to be choked muffled cries were heard…

"Sir.."

"Are you alright, Albus?"

The old man quickly pulled himself together so that he looked only weary as opposed to being desperate. The only thing that was off were the eyes, where one normally found twin orbs of twinkling warmth, anyone who saw the revered light wizard now would be starring into two half dead spheres, which seemed devoid of all warmth and life.

"I'm alright, just…long day." And it wasn't over yet.

Rumor has it that there was another Death Eater attack in France; this time at its most prestigious educational institute, Beauxbatons. This couldn't be good for trans-channel relations, which was already at an all time low. Considering how no major domestic incident has occurred, the British ministry has tried to play down the plight of its continental neighbors. Fudge consistently rebuffed the idea that Voldemort has come back, claiming that the continental attacks were in fact copy cat attacks by local criminals. Naturally the continental ministries were none too pleased that the island nation was washing its hands of the whole affair.

Albus, himself, has tried to mediate, but alas with the exception of a view leveled headed people, most politicians have used the opportunity to pull one over their rivals. The last meeting of the International Confederation of Wizards and Witches had to be dismissed mid session as a duel broke out.

The headmaster was pulled from his dark thoughts as a head appeared in the fireplace.

"Albus, it's true. The French ministry apprehended several Death Eaters from Beauxbatons. Their minister fire called and apparently the silence charm in Fudge's office wore off because officials two rooms away vaguely heard the French minister yelling. There's even rumor about cutting diplomatic ties."

"I see. Do they know why the Death Eaters were there?"

"… yes, they said that they were planning to kidnap the daughter of the Deputy Defense Minister Delacour."

Albus frowned. If they are going for high profile kidnappings then things have really taken a turn for the worse.

"…I also can't verify this, but apparently a young Englishman helped fight off the Death Eaters until Delacour arrived at the school with help. He's being kept under watch at the school now. The press has been trying to get in, but so far they have only managed to get his name from a leak. And this is the weird part. They say his name is Harry Potter…"

Albus had to force himself to gape, though his eyes flew open momentarily.

"Would he be related to James Potter by any chance?"

"I'm not certain, but I'll check. Thank you for your help, Shacklebolt." The man's head nodded before disappearing.

This was most … unexpected, to say the least. Who was this "Harry Potter"? Surely he couldn't be real, they all saw the 14 year old boy die two years ago. Whatever the case may be, he must talk to James and Lily. It won't be long before the press makes some sort of connection with the Potters.

Potter Residence – Godric's Hollow

"Arrgh! Get back here, you little..!"

James Potter, former Auror extraordinaire and present Hogwarts professor sighed, trying to ignore his surroundings. So much for doing some work… The girls were at it again.

"Give it back, you little slimy Snake!"

"Make me, Gryffindork!"

With a mighty roar, Gwen tackled her sister to the ground.

"Ok, that's enough girls." James grounded it out, rubbing the bridge of his nose in weariness as he separated the two young ladies before they could hurt each other.

"What happened this time?"

"She…" Gwen stepped forward pointing an accusatory finger at her twin "cursed my broom."

"Why did you do that, Rose? You know how much Gwen hates it when someone messes with her broom." Being quite a Quidditch enthusiast himself, James could sympathize with Gwen. Unfortunately, his other daughter took it as a personal attack.

"And how you think I felt when she turned my hair PINK!"

"It suited you since you don't like red. It should be the color for all you Slytherin bastards and bitches." Gwen fired back with a nasty smile, while tossing her flaming red hair with a casual wave.

James frowned. "Gwen, apologize to your sister."

"Oh come on dad, you know it's true. You would agree with me if she wasn't here." James made some half assed protest that fooled neither of the girls.

"It's true, especially with how much time she's been spending with that Malfoy chick."

"What Malfoy chick?" Both girls turned to their father.

As far as James recalled, they only had a son named Draco, who incidentally died roughly at the same time as Harry. The exact nature of the incident was still a mystery, but apparently some of the old pureblood families led by the Malfoys didn't quite fall inline with Voldemort. The dark lord made an example of their son, presumably to enforce compliance from the Malfoy and the other hesitant noble families. Unfortunately he miscalculated and ended up sending most of them into Dumbledore's arms. The elder Malfoy, in particular, forswore his former allegiance and struck back at his former master with terrible vengeance, helping the ministry, much to the guile of purist light wizards, shut down virtually all Death Eater activities in Great Britain.

To this day, James and others had trouble reconcile the elder Malfoy from before to the one now. True, the man's personality and attitude remained unchanged. He was every bit the snobbish pureblood elitist/racist git as before and every bit as corrupt. (Unlike Snape, he didn't even need or want Dumbledore's support to keep out of jail) But no matter how much the others questioned his morals and ethics (assuming he had any), no one – no one – could question that he was efficient. Heck, Lucius had in the course of less than a year done more to purge the ministry and the British isle of Death Eater infestation than all the members of Dumbledore's order combined – a fact the aristocrat took care to point out at every opportunity. Needless to say, many were infuriated, but were quite lost as to what they should do. Even Dumbledore seemed to be genuinely perplexed, though it wasn't hard to see how pleased he was that one of the darkest families in all of Great Britain had turned the corner so to speak. On the one hand, Malfoy was a bastard, pure and simple. On the other, he was very much "their" bastard now. James, himself, being a former auror frequently had to wrestle with that moral dilemma when seeking or acting on the elder Malfoy's intelligence.

There were of course, skeptics, most notably mad eye Moody, who was convinced that it was a long term ploy to make everyone drop their guard. That concept, however, became more and more unlikely as time passed. One, Lucius submitted himself to a very thorough public test under veritaserum, in which his new stance against Voldemort was made vividly clear. Two, he has made no attempt to sabotage, infiltrate or discredit the order. He has rebuked all attempts to join forces with Dumbledore, dealing with the Order as little as possible, and freely offered almost 100 accurate data and intelligence. Even his taunts of the Order's failures caused it to become stronger as its members strove to prove him wrong. Third, Malfoy and Voldemort have been expanding so much resource against each other that a simple rouse just seems too unlikely. Several prominent old acquaintances and family friends of the Malfoy, many of who were believed to be sympathetic to the dark lord, have been murdered while Narcissa spent months in a coma due to a Death Eater ambush. The dark ranks have disintegrated into civil war and dozens of top escalon Death Eaters have been killed, not imprisoned, which would have given the conspiracy theory some weight. But James was inclined to be suspicious and was very much within Moody's ever growing smaller camp of people who believed in the Malfoy conspiracy… that was until last year before the Christmas holidays when he chanced upon the Malfoy couple, in muggle London… dressed in muggle cloth… positively doting on their apparently happy and precocious adopted daughter. James shadowed the Malfoy family, not believing what he saw as the trio happily wondered from store to store, walking out with ever increasing handfuls of bags like any normal, abet, very well off muggle family. Given how amicable the Malfoy was with their muggle sales representatives and how inconspicuous they tried to be, James had no choice but to accept their behavior as being genuine. He was confused for days until he finally approached Dumbledore with what he had seen.

The old geezer was not of much help; only uttered something about rediscovering the power of love and hope during the merry festivities of the holidays, while turning that inferno twinkle of his on at full power. Later on the same day, he met the aforementioned person while waiting for Sirius at the ministry. With memory of what he experienced, James made the unusual effort to greet the Malfoy head civilly rather than fire off some crude thinly veiled insult. And despite what he had seen, James was not prepared when the pureblood wizard greeted him in turn…and as an equal. And it must have showed because Malfoy senior actually chuckled, seemingly amused to have caught the famed former auror off guard. Before James knew it, the two had talked off the better part of 20 minutes about the current state of affairs in the ministry as if they were well… not exactly old friends, but definitely semi-respected personages worthy of holding a conversation with.

To this day, James couldn't figure out what made him wish that the elder Malfoy and his wife have a happy holiday with their daughter as the other man was about to leave. He mentally kicked himself for talking about children as the elder Malfoy closed up. He prepared for what was coming, but the older man didn't fire off an insult. Instead, he nodded, merely answering with a: "Same to you too, Mr. Potter."

James stood there stunned for five minutes before a concerned Sirius came around to drag him off.

They are alright family even Lucius, I guess. Thought James in reflection. And that Greengrass offspring was definitely a good girl. A bit cold and stand offish, but clearly talented and possessed a brilliant mind based on the work James saw her do.

"You mean Daphne, formally of the Greengrass family right?"

"Yeah, Rose's been spending a LOT of time with her. You know, the blonde ice princess that rotting family adopted after her parents were killed. You would think they would learn after their son died but no, they want to make another Malfoy out of someone else's child."

What happened to the Greengrass was a tragedy and the girl seemed to have become more reclusive afterwards, preferring to be alone than to be in the company of even her few remaining friends. There were times when James felt bad and angry when he caught other students, both from her house and from other houses, mocking or taunting the lone Slytherin. In those instances, James, who was normally laid back, brought swift and inordinately heavy punishment on the perpetrators irregardless of house affiliations.

While James is somewhat peeved at how crudely his daughter was with the other Slytherin girl, he understood the rationale. Teenage Gryffindors were never the most polite bunch especially toward their Slytherin rivals. Being that he, himself, was guilty of many rather unsavory acts against the other house in his youth, he could hardly harshly chastise his daughter for mere vaguely unpleasant words.

Besides, he couldn't fundamentally dispute his daughter's logic. No matter how excellent a student and a person he thought Daphne was, she is nevertheless now a Malfoy. And that alone made James wary about his already rogue daughter being too closely attached to her. Because at the heart of it all, no matter how much the Malfoy couple seemed to have changed in one respect, James was not about to forget or forgive some of the appalling things they have done in the past and he was well aware that Lucius has by no means forgone his old practices of bribery and deceit. Those were just two of the reasons why there was never a reoccurrence of that encounter at the ministry.

"Actually I kind of wish that Lord Voldemort got all of them last time… Good riddance to bad rubbish I say…"

James frowned. That was going a bit too far. And by his role as the good parent/adult, he was about to utter a chastisement when a flash of light shot past him. A surprised Gwen barely managed to dodge the curse as it rocked it past her and slammed into the wall, leaving behind a dark scorch mark.

"YOUNG LADY! PUT THAT WAND AWAY NOW!" Both girls jumped back at the force of the command. Luckily the ancient anti-detection wards on the residence would shield magic from ministry sensors, but that didn't excuse what the teenager tried to do and to her own sister. James was sure the curse was a fairly border line dark and nasty one.

Hesitantly Rose pocketed her wand, but her absolutely livid father didn't back down. In fact, James had no intension of backing down this time. Ever since their son's death, the two girls have been driving Lily and him to the end of their wits. They tried to be as rebellious and antagonistic as possible especially Rose and he was tired of it. He was going to put his foot down.

Rose backed away half a step as if instinctively sensing what her father was going to say. Seeing his normally assertive and sharp tongued so frightened, fearful and cowed, James lost heart. All he wanted to do was hug his little girl and comfort her like he used to do, but he still had to show how angry and scared he was. Using a spell like that…

Dropping his menacing stance, James walked over to a chair and slumped into it.

"You have no idea how disappointed I'm, right now… at both of you." But it was not lost on both girls who it was really addressed to.

The comment cut deeply into, who stepped forward, seemingly to make atonement, but Gwen beat her to it by flinging herself at her father.

"I'm sorry, daddy." James gave a small smile as he hugged her back. That's one. He turned to the other.

Rose had frowned at the exaggerated gesture her twin made. She knew better than to believe she was sincere. The little trickster would surely prank her the next chance she got, but she never really meant to hurt her parents. Despite being a Slytherin, Rose sometimes just found it hard to control the urge to just lash out and trash that idiotic twin of hers and anyone and anything related to her.

"Come on, dear sister. We are still a family… even if you are a Slytherin." Teased the red head. Rose snorted and was willing to let that barb slide, except she caught the eyes of her father.

She froze… Her father still haven't come to terms with her yet, that she was a real Slytherin and had not been mis-sorted. He didn't accept her for what she was. She felt her heart sink. At the back of her head, Rose always accepted that being different might have meant this, but to see it and know it for sure…

James and Gwen also sensed that something was wrong as for several seconds, Rose seemed to freeze. James stared in confusion as his daughter's face took on a haunted and hurt expression. Perhaps he pushed a bit too far. James was about to get up and go to his daughter when the room suddenly cooled.

Rose Potter briefly shot her dad one final hurt and vulnerable expression before hardening it into steel in the next instant.

"I'll apologize alright. I'm sorry…that I missed!"

Momentarily surprised, Gwen quickly regained her fiery anger as she thought her sister had pulled an underhanded one on her using the sympathy card. Only quick thinking by James prevented a renewal of the earlier cat fight.

"Rose, how could you say that to your own sister?"

The raven haired Potter girl, tensed as if drawing on her will power to remain cold.

"Don't bother, father. I have no sister. And oh, if you are wondering how to undo that charm, Gwen, might I suggest opening your charms text book once in a while. Harry did that in his 4th year."

Gwen looked on with aghast as her sister, mimicking the flounce she did earlier, but with black trusses, turned her back to them.

James couldn't even come up with a response before his wayward daughter had walked out the door.

"That hussy! She…"

James was too caught up to even rebuke his other daughter as Gwen launched into an angry tirade. Just then, a clearly troubled Lily appeared. She had bumped into a very ill-tempered daughter of hers and somehow she knew what caused it.

"What just happened?"

"Rosy darling was just being her slimy Slytherin self." The red haired teenager answered bitterly.

"Gwen!"

"It's true, mom. Just ask dad."

"James!" James gulped as his red headed tempest turned to him with a frown.

"Ahm, you see Lily flower…"

Crossing her arms before her, Lily narrowed her eyes.

"Guinevere, I need to talk to your father alone." Very prudently, teenager quickly bowed out.

"Don't chew Dad out too much mum. Rose really was being nasty, well more nasty than usual."

Seeing the sincerity in her daughter's words, Lily nodded. Still she could tease her husband a bit.

"Don't worry honey; I won't hurt your father…much."

"So what does Albus want us for?" Asked James irritably. He had received an urgent fire call from the headmaster just after getting chewed out and teased to death by his temperamental wife. Needless to say, he was not having the best of days.

"No idea. Trouble with the twins or with Lily?" Asked an amused Sirius.

"Ahm, both actually." James growled in anger as his best friend exploded in laughter.

"Oh man, James. All these years and famous James Potter still can't deal with his own women huh? What a shame to the Marauder name."

James grumbled a bit before thinking better of it and fired back one of his own.

"Oh yeah? Then why is the great and illustrious Padfoot still without a wife to this very day?" Sirius shut up instantly.

"Damn, ever since you discovered that one, it's no fun anymore."

"Maybe you should consider doing something about that then?" Both knew what James was talking about.

"I'll have to agree with my darling husband on this one."

Sirius only sighed. It's no secret that Sirius is the only Marauder, barring that now deceased traitorous rat, Wormtail, who is not married. Not that he can't or don't want to, of course. The famous auror was the resident playboy of magical Britain, but alas the downside to fame was that it was hard to find the girl.

"When the time's right. Besides I have you guys and Remus and all your kids. That's enough for me." The Potter couple didn't buy it but decided not to argue for now.

"Come in gentleman and lady." Greeted the smiling Albus.

"What's going on, Albus?" Asked Lily as she seated herself comfortably.

"I have come upon some certain information that I think you should be privy to." Answered Dumbledore carefully.

"Would this happen to have anything to do with the latest attack?"

The wizened wizard nodded solemnly.

"What attack? I haven't heard anything?"

"Nor would you, James. It was in France at Beauxbatons, apparently. You can be sure that our friend Fudge's going to try to pass it off as a no biggie foreign affair in the press." Answered Sirius looking expectantly at the headmaster.

"Sirius is correct."

"Beg your pardon sir, but how does that relate to us?" Asked James a bit impatiently. He really didn't need to deal with bureaucratic incompetence right now.

"As it happened, the Death Eaters managed to corner some of the younger students beneath the school before the French aurors arrived."

All three Order members paled. What Voldemort and his death eaters failed to do domestically 'thanks' to the efforts of Malfoy and other turn coats, they readily emulated else where. The despicable things they did to so called "impure" families were by no means unknown to British citizens despite all efforts by the British ministry and its co-opted press to suppress such foreign news.

"Luckily, it seems that the plans of the Death Eaters were foiled by a stranger."

Sensing the identity of this person to be central to why they were here, James asked:

"Who was he, sir? Is he important?"

"Perhaps. They said he's English and that his name…; his name's Harry Potter."

As expected, James and Sirius exploded with anger while Lily seemed rather distraught at hearing the name of her deceased child. James quickly postulated that it was a clearly a Death Eater trap, urging Dumbledore to contact the French officials to have the blatant imposter interrogated. This demand was earnestly supported by Sirius, who added his own two cents about what should be done to the bastard who dared to desecrate the memory of his dead god-son.

The headmaster led this go on for a few minutes, before he called the two to calm down.

"Calm yourself, James, Sirius. It would seem that he saved the life of deputy minister Delacour's youngest daughter." The news shook James. The two had developed something of an amicable working relationship based on mutual respect even though their respective governments and superiors almost never saw each other eye to eye. James sank down beside Lily, wrapping a comforting arm around his wife.

"But…he can't…"

"I know, Lily. I saw and confirmed young Harry Potter's death myself after all. I shall always regret that I was unable to save him." The honest self deprecating remark quickly lessened the anger of the three confused adults.

"It wasn't your fault, Albus. We are just glad you arrived in time to save the other children."

Albus waved it off.

"Harry's bravery and sacrifice had already beaten back many of the other Death Eaters and his classmates finished off the rest. I had arrived only in time to collect the results of his achievements."

James and Lily nodded, both with sadness but also with no small degree of pride at their son's courage. Despite being sorted as a Ravenclaw, he was clearly a Gryffindor at heart.

"This issue needs to be closely monitored. Mr. Delacour is well aware that your son is dead so I would suspect that he would have dealt with 'Harry Potter' appropriately had he really been a Death Eater imposter. That does not seem to be the case."

The three friends looked uncertainly between one another.

"Do you think it could be arranged for us to see him?"

Perfect, thought Dumbledore. Just the opening he needed. Despite all his efforts to appease the respected French politician, Mr. Delacour seemed extra-wary and cool toward the old headmaster. Dumbledore hoped that this 'Harry' incident would allow him another chance to make a good impression on the other man. The extremely old wizard knew that he needed competent foreign help and support if Voldemort's influence abroad was to be contained.

"I'll do the best I can."

Blasted press. Where's censorship when you needed it. Harry Potter cursed his inferno nemesis not for the last time. It was clear that he underestimated his vulnerabilities in this new world where he can no longer take his position and abilities for granted. Less than 24 hours after his meeting with Philip, the French media somehow got wind of the name of the Englishman who saved a prominent politician's daughter from some possible death. No, he didn't think Philip was responsible (and had to assure the older man that he did not hold him responsible) but he should have known better than trust the public system and its officials even with his name at this point. Corruption and leakages were not sole preserves of the English it seem. Back in his world, it took years after the fighting to revamp and build up responsible magical governments in Europe.

No matter, being revealed early on did also have its advantages. For one, he can build up his public position here in France immediately and capitalize on his already fortuitous relationship with a prominent French official. Operating in the open also would most likely help deflect attention and suspicions. Yes, the only downside is that he would need to find someway of dealing with his family and Dumbledore soon. It seems the good headmaster was anxious in meeting someone who was supposed to be dead. On the plus side, Monsieur Delacour seemed as weary as he was of the old wizard and for good reason. Politicians would kill to have the kind of clout he literally seems to swim in. And let it not be said that Dumbledore did not know how to utilize his connections and manipulative skills.

Harry chuckled at the thought. Funny how that with a change in environment, he's able to look at the other man's manipulations in a slightly more pragmatic light. But he most certainly will be extra cautious still time around. The heavens forbid, the powerful demi-god allow himself be caught within that old man's web of half lies and deceit a second time around. Hence when his name was made public, Harry immediately probed Philip about the possibility of diplomatic amnesty should the English demand for his extradition. Either because of his misgivings about the English grandfatherly headmaster or because he was keen personally and politically about not losing Harry, the French deputy minister was most receptive of the idea and pledged his government's support. In fact, Philip even conferred with Olympe to explore the possibility of installing the dimensional traveler temporarily at Beauxbatons as a guest instructor of sort, at least for the summer.

All in all, as Harry stood outside the entrance of Beauxbatons' main hall waiting for his introduction, the young demi-god/demon thought life was rather good. Sure he still needed to scout out Voldemort and his cohorts, perform several high level, high magic concentrated rituals and get a new wand or two (until he can find some magical staffs or relics), but all in good time. He wasn't even in this new world for a week and was already a celebrity it seems. Some things just never change. It was a very good thing that he had long sense overcame his camera shyness.

As the booming voice called out his name, Harry pushed the doors apart and studded across the expansively lit hall. He ignored the awed gasps, giggly whispers and starry eyed swooning as much as possible, though he did send a nod and a half smile in Gabrielle's direction, something that was not missed by the young girl and her friends judging by the Veela's soft flush and flurry of whispers afterwards.

Gabrielle… Harry's thoughts floated to memories of his own Veela as the staff and students quieted to enjoy their meal.

-FLASHBACK-

"We are getting overwhelmed here. The British ministry had backups. We got to pull out!" The panicking man had all but lost his wits, before a firm arm pulled him down.

"Harry is DOWN there!" The young teenage girl protested. Below them, battle lines had descended into a vicious melee and a battle of attrition, and it was becoming rapidly clear that for all of their young lord's skill, he and his followers were being encircled as the more aurors poured in.

"Listen, 'princess' if we don't leave now, we are all dead. You aren't even supposed to be…" The wizard never finished his sentence as his chest exploded from a random curse. Chaos reigned almost immediately as no one seemed to know who to turn to for orders. Their glorious leader was in the thick of combat and the senior commander, young Malfoy was also caught up in the battle while trying to flank the enemy.

The older wizards and witches seemed to have lost heart. Gabrielle sneered in disgust as the traitors fled via apparition. The remaining young ones fought on zealously but with losing hope. Raised voices argued back and forth on the appropriate course of action now.

"SILENCE!" Gabrielle knew this was it. If she didn't do something, fighting on without coordination no matter how doggedly would invite defeat. True, things were grim, but the young Veela had sneaked into enough of Harry's war cabinet meetings to know what to do. First, she had to rally them…

Picking up the wand of the fallen pathetic wizard that was directing the battle, she conjured up a glowing animate image of a phoenix and raised it above her like a battle banner.

"Is this the best we can do? Is this how we answer our lord's righteous call to arms! Those filth…" Pointing to the ministry aurors, Gabrielle injected as much passion as possible into the word along with a healthy dose of Veela power.

"…claim to be on the side of the 'light'. They propagate lies even as they steal and corrupt society. They, who have shown a complete disregard for others… who have murdered and raped innocents under the aegis of 'martial law'. They, who uphold corruption and represent nothing but an anachronism that should have been swept aside by history long ago. Will you let them stand in the way of progress, of change, of your leader's world vision and your future?"

Whether it was from the speech's persuasive energy itself or from the charged Veela that was giving it, the answer was unequivocal.

"BLOODY HELL NO!"

"Then, let this day be our rebirth, and the rebirth of the wizarding world! As our lord would say! Follow me!" The entity of Harry's remaining followers charged down the hill, all hollering with such vocal strength that the enemy thought they were set upon by ten thousand banshees.

And at the front of this tidal wave, leading on like one of the goddess of war of old, was an almost glowing and transformed Gabrielle, her Veela powers not only fully expanded, but also projected only at the enemy before her, keeping her allies clear of the enthralling effect. The ministry aurors and their allies could do nothing but stare as their doom descended on them…

…

Harry pulled out of Gabrielle's mind and slumped back in his chair, deep in thought. The dirtied and bloody young girl kneeled before him while various wizards and witches anxiously watched in silence.

"I see…" The young lord muttered. On the one hand they did win because of her, but on the other hand, she specifically disobeyed his order to stay away.

"Why were you there?" Harry motioned for silence as several began to protest in the young Veela's defense.

"I believed that my aid would have been necessary."

"Which in hind sight was… true, non?

"Oui."

Harry nodded, pacing for a minute in silence before turning to Gabrielle.

"So you believed that I was being incompetent hence necessitating your intervention?" Gasps rang out.

"Milord, she only wished to help…"

"When her help was not only not asked for, but in some ways forbidden by me." The intimidating wizard answered coolly towards the crowd. The Veela girl flinched at the tone of that voice.

No one had an answer for that.

"Harry, may I speak?"

There was a bit of shuffling around as the others gaped and whether in awe of the young one's bravery or audacity at addressing their lord so informally. Interestingly enough the said lord turned his attention back to the still kneeling girl and answered calmly.

"You may, Gabrielle."

"I will be frank. The battle was horribly managed and I do not doubt that my absence would have resulted in utter defeat. No matter what you shall do now, had I been given the chance to redo what I did, I wouldn't have changed anything." There was instant chaos as everyone started shouting back and forth. Some, who were resentful of the hold the young girl had over their lord's heart, watched with glee. Others who also took the foreign girl into their hearts watched in horror.

For the second time, Harry motioned for silence from the unruly crowd.

"I'll be equally frank. Though your actions may have saved us from defeat, they also undermined my authority, much in the same manner as I did to Lord Voldemort."

"Dumbledore and Voldemort both understood, in quite different manners of course, the need for order and discipline within the ranks. After all, a leader depends on the loyalty and obedience of those around him in order to lead… so how could any leader lead if his orders aren't followed? Ms. Gabrielle Delacour, your actions thus have left me no choice."

Anticipating the attacks, Harry pulled out his wand and sliced the air in a wide arc, throwing several of the would-be attackers back.

"SILENCE!"

The various squabbling factions indeed on either defending their lord or the wrongly punished young lady quieted. Harry strolled calmly up and down the ranks, wand held outward as if daring anyone to attack.

"I'll be remarkably generous and let that one go." Having sufficiently silenced a would-be uprising, the young imposing lord stood before his one time surrogate little sister/charge. To Gabrielle's credit, the young teen did not flinch even as what must have seemed like certain doom loomed just feet before her.

Though the politics of war allowed certain jostling of intra-unitary conflict, the makeup of the basic command and control hierarchy must never be jeopardized. This was especially important in a dark order, or any group which was organized not around fixed laws and systems but rather on the will of the strong. That will must never be questioned by the rank and file least infidelity consume the hearts of its members. The split within Death Eater ranks masterminded and engineered by Harry and his Slytherin company showed the dangers of such insubordination by popular subordinates. Gabrielle was successful in that battle, much too successful… and she knew this all too well.

"I have no choice then…" The legendary holy wand circled the air ominously.

"…but to offer you this." Everyone blinked as a vaguely smiling Harry held a medal or insignia of sort featuring a gold phoenix clutching a lightening bolt before him.

None was more shocked than Gabrielle herself.

"Is that?" Harry nodded as he turned towards everyone else.

"For those of you who had the honor or rather the dishonor of being with me under Voldemort's service." Here, he spat out the name of his former 'master/mentor'.

"You should be well aware of the difference between him and I, not the least of which is that he was quite frankly insane, while I valiantly hope I'm not… yet." Here were a couple of chuckles. The mood lightened up.

"Fact of the matter is I am neither too proud or ashamed to admit when I have made mistakes or when I have wronged someone…" Harry could sense that there were those who were displeased at their lord's show of weakness, but he could really care less about them at this point.

"I have ignored, mitigated and belittled an extraordinary person for far too long out of misguided sense of devotion and selfish guilt. And I'm appalled that there are those who think I would punish someone whose only fault was being loyal and determined to a fault. I'm appalled that my name inspires such irrational fear not only amongst my enemies, but also amongst my allies, comrades and friends."

Here Harry made a show of bowing towards the few who almost attacked him because they thought he was going to kill Gabrielle. One in particular, the former Slytherin student, Daphne Greengrass smiled and bowed in return.

"And for that, I have no one but to blame except for myself." The hail of protest from his followers lifted his heart considerably, but Harry ignored them for now.

Laying one hand on Gabrielle's shoulders, Harry lifted the girl up and waited until the teary eyed girl looked back up at him.

"I never wanted you to get involved."

"Yet to get what I want, I must." Harry almost reeled at the thought and struck by how matured the girl before him was. When did this happen? Or had the little innocent girl been an act all along… an act of deference to him and Pansy maybe? The young lord willed himself to push that line of thought away.

"So be it then. Do you, Gabrielle Delacour, accept the rank of General of the Slytherin Army, and the position of tactical advisor on my war cabinet and all the rights, privileges and responsibilities doing so shall entail?"

"I do." Perhaps in some recess part of his mind, Harry prayed that the once little girl he took under his care would back away and save herself from him and what fate had in store for him, but rationally he knew what was to be. The young lord pinned his insignia above Gabrielle's heart.

With practiced grace, which would undoubtedly trouble Harry for years to come, the newly conscripted general dropped on one knee with one hand covering the newly pinned insignia.

"I'll not fail you, my lord." Harry's heart clinched, but smiled nonetheless. Turning to the crowd of both enthusiastic and mal-content followers, he announced their new commander to them, making careful note of those who did not applaud.

-END FLASHBACK-

Harry sighed, settling down the knife which he used to spear up a piece of juicy meat. Seeing Gabrielle so cheerful, vibrant and acting her age with her friends really made him think about what ifs.

"Monsieur Potter, how's the veal?" Asked the headmistress. Looking down at the exotically decorated meat, Harry smiled.

"Tres bien. Compliments to your house elves." A few of the staff blinked in surprise. Compliments for elves? Olympe only nodded in return as if in understanding.

"If you'll meet in my office afterwards, Mr. Potter, we have much to talk about."

"Certainly, headmistress."

"Fools!" Voldemort was in a foul mood, as several shriveled bodies of post Crucio-ed followers would adhere to. He waved at several others to clear away the dried up and decaying bodies of the ritual victims.

In a fit of anger, the dark lord incinerated the ancient dark text. Pity…there might have been something useful in there, but nah…

The dark swirling pool of what was once human blood bore testimony to the grotesque dark ritual that they sought to performed here.

Voldemort sank back into his throne, pondering about it. The text had spoken of a summoning ritual that could call forth a creature of such godly power that it was unimaginable to mortal man. Given his experience with the dark arts, he should have known better than to believe it, but what it spoke of was too tempting to resist. Now, after wasting so much time and resource on it… No, it appears just as he always knew that there was no short cut to power and glory; no special magical key or easy ritual to unlock the secret of immortality.

No matter, despite the treachery of Malfoy and his ilk, Voldemort knew he was stronger now than ever before. In fact, he should probably thank his old ally turned foe, for if it wasn't for him, he would never have expanded onto the continent so aggressively. Now his international dark order was poised to strike the disorganized and fractured magical world. Soon it would be all his.

Turning to his remaining followers, Voldemort smiled gamely.

"So the ritual failed; a minor setback to be sure. Since there's no need for any more bodies, you are all free to entertain yourselves with our guests. Have fun." The gleeful Death Eaters bowed in thanks as Voldemort swept from the room.

Hours later, the tortured, raped and most certainly dead bodies of a dozen muggles were found by the officials and just in time for the next day's headlines.

Translation:

Je vous'en prie, monsieur Delacour. Je suis heureux d'avoir pu aider, particulierement une belle mademoiselle telle. – (Roughly) Think nothing of it, Mr. Delacour. I'm happy to have been able to help, especially such a beautiful miss.

AN: Boring as hell chapter, I know, and STILL 10k words, lmao. Guess I wasn't inspired. Just some clearing up about the new world and Harry's condition. The letter to Dumbledore will be important WAY later, and a bit of a hint here at the end as to why Harry might have ended up here. Pretty obvious… Any case, next chapter will feature more about the new world, new characters and some combat training (I hope) as well as Harry and Potter family interaction.

PS: How did you like the Potter girls? Rather than the Harry being lovey dovey with all his siblings or being enemies to them, I tried something different, by making him a kind of spectator for a rivalry already in place. The idea is rather than having AU Harry causing all the drama, he's going to be pulled into it or something like that. IP82's ideas about Remus's wolf girl daughters and playboy Sirius had merit, so I might run with them for a bit and see. Thanks.

As always, thanks for reading and reviewing. I enjoy reading all the comments.