Disclaimer; I do not own Harry Potter nor any of the characters therein.
A/n; I wish to apologize in advance to anyone who's native language is French. I'll be honest, this is about the limit of my French. I know enough that eventually people suddenly know what I'm talking about and start giving directions very slowly in simple words.
With a flash and a bang a triple-decker, violently purple bus which had The Knight Bus written over it's windshield in gold letters, driven by a half blind madman in his golden years, pulled up to the curb in a perfectly normal suburb in Surrey. This wasn't just any perfectly normal suburb, though you wouldn't know it from looking, the bus had just arrived in Little Whinging (Magnolia Terrace to be precise), summer home of one of the most famous wizards in the world. After taking a few seconds to climb down from the upper level, a cute young girl with long blond hair and vibrant blue eyes stepped off the bus and blew a kiss to the conductor who was stammering and blushing.
The young girl in question was wearing a simple yellow sundress and humming with happiness. Gabrielle Delacour stopped humming to look at the street signs vexedly before closing her eyes and focusing on that quiet inner voice that told her exactly where she needed to go. Her happy humming resumed and she skipped around the corner and down the road. By the time she got to Privet drive she was nearly glowing in satisfaction and happiness. She was so overjoyed to see the house of her childhood hero that she almost missed the sound of someone cursing softly in French. Almost…
Gabrielle stopped skipping and stood silent for a moment, listening for whoever had spoken. The voice was so familiar, and she knew she should recognize it but her mind was clouded with expectation. Without warning a slight breeze shifted direction so that a particular scent assaulted Gabrielle's nose. Veela! There was another veela nearby, which meant competition… With a snarl one would never expect to come from the throat of a young girl, her face elongated and started to form a razor sharp beak. Her fingers were starting to turn claw-like and twisted when she heard the crack of apparition and the other veela was gone.
With her mood sufficiently spoiled, Gabrielle just marched the rest of the way to the door of Number Four and banged sharply three times. From inside she heard a man's voice grumbling as it neared the door, "This better not be about the milk. I told the whelp we didn't need three pints a day several times."
With a slam the door was thrown open and Vernon Dursley stared down at his visitor. He looked her over and reached for his wallet. "Ah, trying to sell girl guide biscuits?"
Gabrielle looked him straight in the eye and demanded in heavily accented English, "Show me Harry Potter."
Vernon instantly lost what little good spirits he had gained at the prospect of mint chocolate biscuits and glared hatefully at the girl. "You're one of those freaks aren't you? I won't have any freakishness in my house so leave us alone!"
This did not improve the situation one bit. Moving almost faster than the human eye could follow, the young veela's arm rocketed forward and caught the Vernon in the crotch. As he leaned forward grasping his soft tissue, her other hand grabbed his silk necktie and yanked downward with all her considerable might. Her right fist slammed forward once again and broke the muggle's nose. She pushed him out of the way and entered the house. Closing the door, she looked down to Vernon and tried again, "Where is Harry Potter?"
Trying to pinch his nose to stop the bleeding and simultaneously fend off another blow, the elder Dursley pointed and choked out a meager "Upsdairs…"
The youngest Delacour brought her seduction aura to the fore and stalked off towards the stairs.
Harry Potter was having a better than average day. After he had arrived home three weeks ago his relatives continued their usual treatment as if they had never been warned. One note to the Order however had brought certain interested (and interesting) parties calling late one night. Harry didn't know what Remus and Mad-Eye had done, and truthfully he didn't want to know, but after a half hour alone with his relatives the current regime of ignoring everything to do with Harry came into effect. They didn't talk to him, about him, or even mention if he took a second helping of food at the evening meal.
Harry had been quietly reading a book Dudley had cast aside, The Atheist's Mass by Honoré de Balzac, when he heard the crack of apparition. Thinking it was just time for the changing of the guards, he paid it no mind until he heard the knocking on the door not long after. Harry began to get a touch excited, had one of his friends finally come to visit him in his private little hell? His hopes were dashed to pieces when he heard Vernon yelp in pain and then crash to the floor as only a morbidly obese man can. Harry fetched his wand from under the mattress and opened his window halfway. If whoever this was turned out to be hostile and not just a Dursley-hater (quite a sensible thing to be) Harry wanted to have an escape route planned. Harry trained his wand on the door and waited.
Almost immediately he heard a light knock and felt a little relieved. Death eater wouldn't be polite about it. "Who is it?" He called, moving to the door.
"Harry?" Was all the warning he got as the door was thrown open and a goddess who had descended to earth practically flew through the intervening space and knocked him onto his bed. Before he could think of anything to say or anyway to impress his beautiful guest, her mouth locked over his in a hungry kiss.
At first the kiss was harsh and rough, but as it went on, Harry noticed the tender sweetness just beneath the surface. He could barely think straight, only taking the time to identify who he was kissing before surrendering himself. He kicked off one of his shoes and somehow managed to sling it towards the door, knocking it closed with a click, as Gabrielle dug her fingers into the fabric of his shirt and ripped it open to expose his chest. Harry wasn't the most athletic wizard in the world, but sixteen years of slave labor didn't make a man fat either.
Suddenly Harry's weakened mind began to put two and two together through the seductive aura. This wasn't the body of a woman he was feeling; this was a child in his arms. It wasn't Fluer who charged into his room and began molesting him, it was her sister. Gabrielle was only eleven years old! He struggled to extract himself. "Mmph… Gabrielle!"
"Oui, I'm so happy you remember me!" She launched herself at him again. Harry turned away at the last second and her lips started kissing their way down his jawline. Harry could feel the heat rising in his face and elsewhere and tried to ignore the goddess strapped to his bare chest.
"What are you doing here? Why are you kissing me? What's going on?" Harry knew he was babbling but he was trying to ignore the petite hand that had a firm hold on his rear.
He couldn't decipher her answer because her English was not very good and his French was worse. All he knew for sure was there was something about a little girl, a veela, a woman, and hearing her claim "Mine!" before she went back to snuggling into his chest. At least the fevered and passionate kissing phase had ended for the moment.
Suddenly Harry's door crashed open to reveal Vernon Dursley and a cricket bat. "I'll get you, you little freak! I'll not have some little trollop strike me in my own house!"
Harry didn't understand Gabrielle's response exactly, but he knew obscenities when he heard them yelled. In moments the cute and loving goddess was gone and a cruel harpy from hell was flying across the room at Vernon, trailing fire from each hand. Within seconds the cricket bat was in small burning splinters and Gabrielle was tearing at Vernon's exposed flesh with her claws. He kicked and tried to bat her away with his ham like fists, but veela are vicious fighters when roused and they never give up. Vernon tried to run, but Gabrielle gave chase and Harry could hear them crashing through the house and the small explosions as she threw fireballs at him.
It was going to be a long day…
Fleur popped into Grimmauld Place and was yelling for Dumbledore before she even finished whipping the invisibility coat off. She rushed into the kitchen and only found Remus.
"Remus, where is Dumbledore?"
"He's at the ministry, what's going on?"
"Gabby is in Surrey, and she's hunting for a husband." Fleur explained.
Remus couldn't help himself and ended up laughing. The way she said it made it sound like a dire emergency. "Your sister Gabby? I think Harry is safe enough. How much trouble can an eleven year old girl be?"
"It is serious! You don't understand, Gabrielle is not just an eleven year old girl, she is a veela."
"So are you but that doesn't mean Harry loses all control when you're in the same room. If he weren't Harry I'd be more concerned about her feelings when he turns away her advances."
Fleur shook her head vehemently. "Non, I only have un petite measure of the veela gift. Gabrielle has a very powerful gift. There are no male veela Monsieur Lupin, some girls, they are born with a lot of the gift, others with none. When a veela starts to… you know, become a woman… the veela gift will come forward and she will have a set of ideals for what would make the perfect mate. The closer a man to that image, the stronger their children will inherit the gifts. A veela will mate with no other and will attack anyone who tries to keep her from her chosen."
"And you think Harry meets her qualifications?" Remus was beginning to get a picture of just how serious this was.
"From the way she tried to attack me, I'd say he's the only one who does." Fleur said sadly.
"And if he refuses to become her mate?" Remus asked with dread.
"Only one of them will survive. She will try to kill him."
"Right, you find Dumbledore and I'll go to Surrey." Remus was on his way out the door and didn't even stop to grab the invisibility cloak.
Harry had a slightly glazed look on his face as he began to assimilated the story he had finally managed to piece together from his limited knowledge of French and Gabrielle's broken English. He and Gabrielle were sitting on his bed, and he wrapped his arms around her while he thought. "So let's be perfectly clear. You want me to be your mate?"
"And make little veela?"
"I want houseful," she sighed and melted into his embrace.
"No one else will do?"
"And you tried to kill my relatives so they could not interfere."
"Ces choses dégoûtantes!" She spat viciously.
"Right," Harry had no clue what that meant. "You know, I know so little about veela. Would you tell me a story about them?"
Gabrielle turned her head around so she could look up at him. "Ooo… I love stories. What do you want?"
"I recently lost someone who I loved like a father. Tell me a sad story. Are there any stories of veela who couldn't find their mate or whose mate didn't want them?" Harry sniffed a bit.
Gabrielle's voice was very sad and forlorn. "C'est tragique, ces pauvres veela. Non, those stories end so sad."
"How do those stories end?"
"La mort de chacun."
"La mort?" Harry was pretty sure that meant death, but dragged his finger across his throat as he said it.
"Oui, everybody." She shivered theatrically. "And not even la petite mort."
"Then tell me a happy story." Harry was happy that he managed to get the answer to his question without upsetting the young witch, but not altogether happy with what it meant. Once again it seemed fate had things in store he didn't have a say in. With half an ear he listened to Gabrielle talk about someone named Celeste who loved Jacque. Apparently Jacque battled a great dragon to prove his love and spent his nights in unspeakable pleasure. When she stopped speaking Harry gave the veela a slight squeeze around the middle. "That was a very good story. How about I write a quick letter to a family friend telling him the good news, and then I will make you a nice lunch?"
"You don't have to do that. Let me call Babette and she will do it. Her cooking, est magnifique." Gabrielle reached for her wand to summon the house elf, but Harry had something resembling a plan and tried to give her puppy dog eyes.
"You don't want to try my cooking?" Harry let her try to find an answer while he scribbled off a very hasty note, then tied it with the red emergency ribbon the Order gave him. The note was fairly simple, along the lines of 'help!' but with a warning not to make any sudden moves or try to interfere. He woke up his owl, "Hedwig, I need you to find Remus."
Hedwig flew off and headed straight for the corner where Lupin was already on guard. Harry didn't notice this since he was already on the way to the kitchen. Within minutes he was slicing meats and cheeses for sandwiches while a pot of water heated on the stove for tea. Remus came around to the back door and Harry waved him in. Harry made some introductions and went back to stalling for time with food.
Noticing that the young veela was already watching him warily, and guessing that she wasn't perfectly fluent, Lupin tried out the teenager's fallback; Pig Latin. "Harry, do you know what's going on?"
Harry nodded, "The short story is either I become Harry Delacour, or someone's going to die."
"How do you feel about that?"
"Well Moony, if she were a few years older, who wouldn't want a hot veela hanging all over him. As it is, she's pretty young but I really don't need another kill or be killed fight right now."
"Do you have any idea how to handle it, because I'm fresh out. Dumbledore is busy at the ministry right now so Fleur went to get her Grandmother. I've been sitting outside for the past hour reading what I could find and I really don't know what to do for you." Remus told him sadly.
"Right now, the only thing I can think of is to stall for time. Since she chased my relatives out of the house I've had her telling me stories, and now I'm cooking for her. I hope that eventually I can convince her to wait a while, or else maybe she'll realize that I'm not the best match for her."
"How can I help?"
"My biggest obstacle right now is language. She didn't think this through, but now that she's here nothing short of Merlin himself is going to make her leave. If you can figure something out, that'd be half the battle. I'll also need you to go to Gringotts and get me a bank statement. Maybe I'll be too poor for her to consider. After all it takes a lot of money to live on your own and maintain a household."
Lupin chuckled softly, "I doubt that the Potters were too poor cub, but that's a great idea. I'll write you a list of all those little details people never realize when they move out. We'll make her realize that the two of you aren't ready and that should buy you a few years."
"And I'll keep up the 'getting to know you' bit; maybe push the romance and 'true love' angles a bit while I wait. Bring it here, but send it by owl. She's kinda twitchy right now and I really don't want to upset her."
"No problem, now let's eat and I'll be a translator for a bit until I need to go."
The three of them ate a light meal of sandwiches and tea together. Harry served Gabrielle everything and tried his best to make those little gestures and keep her happy. Remus blushed a few times and he had to translate her "sweet nothings" she was trying to whisper. It was pretty awkward but at least they did manage to talk for a bit without needing to guess what some of the words meant. Harry, through Remus, told her that he wanted to spend the afternoon getting to know her and talking about the future. Eventually they were done with the meal and it was time for Moony to leave.
Harry watched the last of his pseudo-family walk down the street and wondered how in the world he was going to get out of this one as a pair of slender arms wrap around his waist. This was definitely going to take a while.