Insert standard legal disclaimer here. Mr. Hollywood, Mr. Writer's Lawyer, I don't own these characters nor will I get one red cent from their use.
Currently, Harry Potter is being literarily violated. I don't expect to use characters from other stories, though small cameos may come up.
Italic text will be used for flashbacks, for thoughts or to show whole sentences are in another language than is standard. Moslty. Unless an error gets through.
The Little Veela that Could
Prologue: Animancora and the Boy Who Died
October 31st, 1981
Contrary to current writings and knowledge on the subjects of horcruxes, the objects are not inherently dark. Like any other form of magic, the level of 'Dark' or 'Light' within the existence of such an object is based on how it was made and why. Nor is the object actually part of the soul of the creator. Horcruxes are truly soul anchors, able to prevent a soul from passing and capable of returning the dead to life if used properly.
The original term for these objects before they were eternally classified as dark objects was animancora. One could even make an unlimited number of these soul anchors without reaching any kind of upper limit except for the fact that the act of creating them for good or ill transforms the creator. It gives them the appearance of being either angelic (light) or monstrous (dark). Their thoughts, actions and even appearance may be influenced by the light-dark intent as well as the number of animancora made. Luckily very few beings ever tried to make more than one dark influenced soul anchor. The first being known to reap the rewards of doing so was so great and terrible as to be feared thousands of years later. He is called Satan in modern times.
Unfortunately for modern Wizarding kind, all ancient research by light healers and scholars on the properties and uses of animancora was either stolen by dark families for their own use or more commonly seized/destroyed by various ministries and light lords for having the appearance of being dark. The process of making soul anchors had ties to blood magics which were also wrongly classified as dark.
Lily Potter, naughty little light witch that she was, had been doing research on light blood magics. Why? Being muggleborn, she did not grow up with the traditional views of her pureblood husband James. She was too progressive for that. And with a childhood friend like Severus Snape she learned to be far more open minded about shady and esoteric arts than James was. When the Potters were forced to hide from Dark Lord Voldemort, she looked to any and all magics for a way to defend herself and her family; no subject was taboo in her eyes. Blood magic had a dark reputation but then it also had a reputation for being very powerful. Power, that's what Lily was looking for. A month of desperate research into blood magics provided her with a way to make a personal blood ward, a truly powerful shield, but it would require her to sacrifice her own life out of love for the ward's target.
One fateful night, the Potters were betrayed to the Dark lord and Lily had cause to cast her blood ward. She tied her love, her life and her very soul to the baby she was protecting. Voldemort attacked a mother who would not give up her son. Lily died. The blood ward formed.
Not that anyone present that night understood the true impact of what Lily did, but she had just become the first witch in centuries to make a light soul anchor. At the time, a minor blood ritual performed with the help of her baby son would have indeed returned the woman to the land of the living, assuming her animancora survived the encounter. Sadly, it would not. Voldemort cast the killing curse for the third time in as many minutes, and green light leapt from wand to child. Lily's ward performed as expected and reflected the killing curse back on the surprised Dark Lord, tearing his soul from his body. If Lily had been the only practitioner of soul based magic, then this would have been the end of Voldemort. Sadly, the Dark Lord's soul was already tainted by the use of horcruxes and reacted to Lily's recent soul magic casting as it would had he intended to create a soul anchor of his own that night. Magic thick with hatred and violent intent rushed into the fresh cut on little Harry's head. The magical bond tying Lily to her baby boy warped and fractured as a new bond formed. Lily's protection remained but it was no longer linked to her disembodied soul; it now came from her blood as it flowed within Harry's own veins. Her soul anchor was gone - there would be no bringing Lily Potter back from the dead after all.
Harry's scar now held a chaotic mix of magics that would continue to shield Harry from magical attack, though the protection came at great cost. Harry would never think fondly of the scar on his forehead where both Lily and Voldemort marked him in their own ways.
When Albus Dumbledore arrived after the attack, he discovered Lily's open research journal and took it. He knew that Lily took prodigious notes when doing research and therefor her journal could be the key to understanding what transpired at Godric's Hollow before he arrived. His hunch proved to be true. The aged headmaster and Leader of the Light took a moment to lament Lily's use of 'dark' blood magic before continuing on.
Albus then took a moment to consider how this applied to the Greater Good. Harry was marked by the Dark Lord. Harry held within him a form of protection that was unheard of in the wizarding world. Harry was no doubt a child of Destiny. But that was in the future and tonight the boy was an orphan. He was vulnerable. He must be kept safe from the Dark Lord's followers. Lily's ward was an unbreakable shield for Harry, preventing all magical harm, but it would not protect anyone else. And what good was a magical shield that protected the child but did nothing for the adults who cared for him? How could anyone survive long standing next to Harry Potter, Defeater of Voldemort, unless the ward was modified? The boy was nearly immortal with Lily's original ward, but anyone next to him was fair game. Albus saw room for improvement.
At that time, he could have tied the blood wards to just about any location or any foster home but the Dursley family suited Albus's needs well. Harry's aunt Petunia and cousin Dudley both carried some of Lily's blood within their veins by familial connection. A bit of master level charms work with one of the most powerful wands in wizarding history could take advantage of that. Albus considered himself fortunate that he had both the skill and the wand required.
Albus summoned Rubeus Hagrid to retrieve the boy and take him to his aunt's house.
When Harry was delivered to number four Privet Drive, Albus forced his will on Lily's blood protections. Petunia's blood relation allowed the work to take hold. The magic did spread to the Dursleys and the house they called home, but it also grew weaker. Lily's ward faded to he point that it would prevent the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters from assaulting the home Harry and his relatives lived and it would provide Harry with some measure of protection against Voldemort himself. In a span of mere hours, Lily Potter's sacrifice weathered assaults from two of the greatest wizards alive and came out of it a pale shadow of what could have been. Albus felt the ends would justify the means.
The Dursleys were not very agreeable to the prospect of raising young Harry, but then they didn't need to be. A childhood full of hardship, bereft of any sort of affection would shape young Harry into just the sort of boy Albus needed him to be. Harry needed to be humble. He needed to be in awe of the wonders of the magical world. He needed to see Hogwarts as a true home and he needed to see the school headmaster as a loving grandfather, someone to be loved and honored. Someone who could teach young Harry right from wrong and dark from light. Someone who could ensure that the boy was willing to sacrifice himself for the Greater Good when the time came... for surely that time would come one day.
February 24th, 1995, 10:36
The Second Task (Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Chapter Twenty-Six, Page 502-3)
All around him, wild, green-haired heads were emerging out of the water with him, but they were not happy.
Merlin no! They were serious! Harry pushed Ron and the little silver haired girl forward as the green haired merpeople advanced on his back. As bad as the situation was before, Harry truly frightened of what could happen next. He was too busy pushing two confused hostages to shore to pull his wand and defend himself. Harry could hear shouting from the stands, but it didn't matter when he was tired and near drowned and not quite back to safety. If only he could get Ron and the girl out of the water!
"Wet, this, isn't it?" Ron spotted Fleur's sister. "What did you bring her for?"
"No time to argue, Ron! Get to shore!" Harry was barely keeping his head above water with the struggle of holding on to an frantic eight year old girl. She was panicking bad at the appearance of so many angry merpeople at the surface of Black Lake. There was no telling how many green-haired spear wielding merpeople were still under them.
"Harry, you prat," said Ron, "you didn't take that song thing seriously, did you? Dumbledore wouldn't have let any of us drown!"
"It's not drow-"
"It was only to make sure you got back -" Ron, who had interrupted his 'best' mate, was interrupted. All three of them were surrounded by spear-carrying merpeople who'd looked more than capable of murder.
Before the three swimmers could move another inch, before the crowd or judges could lend any kind of support, one merman far larger and more muscular than the others surfaced between Ron and the other two. His sharp, gleaming spear pointed directly at the little Veela's heart. Harry grabbed Fleur's sister and held her close. As weak as he was at the moment, she couldn't be any better off.
A phoenix flashed into existence above the surface of the lake, but it was too late. Too late by far.
Pain. Horrible pain flooded through Harry's body as the merman's spear pinned the Boy-Who-Lived to Fleur's sister. Their chests touched, blood pooled and mixed from one body to the other. The deadly shaft extended through both of them and a good foot out past her spine.
Harry and the little Veela didn't see the horrified looks on Ron's face or hear the pained roar of the crowd. They didn't hear the curses and hexes sent from shore to maim and kill any merperson foolish enough to keep their head above water. They sank back into the water pinned together, staring into each others eyes.
Headmaster Albus Dumbledore raced Death itself to repair the grievous injury caused this morning. A large boat was transfigured from some floating debris by his urgent wand strokes. He and Madam Maxime both boarded the boat and magically propelled it to the last spot Harry Potter and Gabrielle Delacour were seen above water.
I'm going to die. Harry knew that his demise was only moments away. Fawkes could not save him here. Harry didn't believe phoenix tears could be applied accurately under water. Never mind on two patients impaled on the same shaft. If he tried to breath in one more time, his one functioning lung would only fill with water and seal his fate. Harry didn't mind so much anymore. His life was not worth the magic his parents had given him. In the whole of the Wizarding World, Harry could only count on one bushy-haired witch for true loyalty, even when his 'best mate' accused Harry of criminal acts and thoughts. And now he was dying with this little Veela girl – oh no! No no no no no. Please Merlin, Jesus or Buddha, don't let this innocent girl die with me! A quick look into the girls eyes told him all he needed to know, she was as terrified and close to death as he was.
Mum did something once. Merlin, what did she do to save me? Harry didn't have any answer save love. Having no other miracle plan pop into his head, Harry set his course and acted.
The little Veela could only stare into the eyes of the boy she was pinned to as they sank back into the depths Black Lake. In her mind she screamed for her mother and her father and Fleur and the other grown-ups to come save her and Harry Potter. She knew who he was of course. Everyone knew who the boy with a lighting bolt shaped scar on his head was. And now they would die together in a tragedy for the ages; the despair filled idea swept away any thoughts of him saving her and them living in the ivory towers of a pristine castle surrounded by loving commoners as Prince Harry and Princess Gabrielle lived Happily Ever After. Please, Mommy! Save me! Save Harry! Please! Mommy, please!
It was only as a distant sound began to become louder, somewhere above and behind her, that she saw Harry's countenance shift. The Boy-Who-Lived seemed to build up his courage for half a second before he opened his mouth one last time.
"I love you." It was the only French sentence any English speaking teenaged boy was guaranteed to learn. Only bubbles left his mouth, but Harry thought for just a second that the little girl might have understood. With no air left in his blood soaked lungs, Harry closed the distance between his lips and her forehead. Harry willed all of his life, love, happiness, hope, magic, anything, everything... all of it, was willed into that chaste kiss as Harry intoned in his own mind. Harry closed his eyes as he kissed the little girl on her head fully believing that he would never open his eyes again.
The two school figureheads mounting a rescue attempt pulled the spear-joined pair out of the water ten seconds later. Gabrielle was revived, only to immediately start wailing as if her own sister had just died to save her.
Harry Potter was dead.
Jan 2012 – Revised to better reflect the story's direction in later chapters.