Author's Note: So… I haven't posted a new chapter in a while, hun? Sorry about that. But, here it is, a brand new one to celebrate the new year! Hope you all had a fantastic new-years-eve! May 2019 be an incredible year for fanfiction.

Harry,

This is the only damn letter these people are allowing me to write, so do me the favor of contacting Draco and Pansy to inform them what's happening. I cannot explain in details — in fact, there's someone reading my words from over my shoulder to make sure I don't overshare — but, apparently, my trip to Bulgaria interfered with a long-standing operation from our Ministry, and, in order to prevent any sort of obstruction, I've been apprehended.

I'm fine. In the worst case scenario, I'll see you at the next meeting.

It's good to know we're not alone.

Greetings, Blaise.

Harry read the letter in his hands out-loud, standing in the middle of his kitchen, surrounded by everyone who was still in his house. The note was short — too short, really — but still confusing, nonetheless.

"We're not alone?" Harry wondered, puzzled. "What does that mean?"

"And what operation is he talking about?" Neville said.

Hermione had a face of concentration that usually meant an idea was coming to her. "Is a hidden message, obviously," she explained. "A long-standing operation that is secretive? In Bulgaria? How many departments from the Ministry would have that sort of clearance?"

"Few?" George guessed, stepping back from their tight circle and pulling a chair to sit down.

"None," Harry corrected, beginning to understand where Hermione was going with her line of thought. "We don't have jurisdiction over other countries."

Daphne's eyes flickered to Hermione. "We do have a department that does our dirty, unmentionable laundry, however," She said, as if asking for confirmation.

"Exactly. The Unspeakables is the only department I can think of that would work on something like that — that would require this near-kidnap. As for the not being alone part… what Unspeakable do we know?"

Of course. "Dunbar."

"If someone was, indeed, reading the letter from over Blaise's shoulder, though, wouldn't it have been obvious that he was oversharing? It seems weird that it would escape their notice," Ginny pointed out, still looking down at the letter in Harry's hands.

"Yes, that's a good point. Blaise tried, but he is no cryptographer," Daphne agreed, moving closer to them to also gaze at the letter. "It's almost as though…"

Hermione nodded in agreement. "As though someone allowed him to write the letter in a way which would be clear to us."

"Which means we definitely need to go after Dunbar," Susan summarised. "Merlin, what a horrible moment to be cut off from all kinds of booze."

Luna, who had yet to say anything about the letter, informed in an even tone: "I'll go call Pansy and Draco," she said, already moving toward the fireplace.

"Wait, perhaps we should call Alessa too. She is Blaise's sister, after all," Neville pointed out, looking at Luna.

Before Harry could interject, the blond nodded in agreement. "Good idea. I'll see if I can get in touch." She turned around and left the room without another word.

Hermione didn't seem to register Luna's voice. In fact, she looked pretty much in the zone, already, calculating their steps, two, five steps ahead. "Not like the unspeakables have the freedom to say anything about their job. It was one of the first things she said in the interview, remember Neville? That she had problems with previous relationships because people failed to understand the full scope of her vow."

"That's right," Neville said. "She can't talk about anything, at all. Even if we ask her, it would be pointless."

"No, don't even, Hermione. You want to invite Dunbar into this house?" Harry asked, ignoring his own hypocrisy at refusing to welcome a contestant in the house when he had been the one to snuck Dolohov in.

"Actually, I think she might respond better to a more professional setting. I'm needed at my office, anyway. My assistant must be about to rip her hairs out."

"And Alessa? What's the point with her?" He asked.

"She is his sister," George pointed out, rather unnecessarily.

Ginny snorted. "Not like she is a present member of his life, though."

"Doesn't it feel strange that suddenly all the members of the Announcement are in the middle of this?" Harry asked, and from the uncomfortable faces he met, it was clear he wasn't the only one coming to that conclusion.

XxXxXxXxXxxXXxXX

Pansy and Draco came as soon as Luna informed them of Blaise's letter. His sister, however, waited many hours to show up, not looking any more disturbed than she usually did.

"So, I heard my baby brother got himself in trouble," Alessa said as soon as she walked in, an amused smile on her face. If Blaise's safety concerned her, she certainly did a nice job hiding it. "How predictable."

"Does it not worry you?"

"Me? I don't think so, no. Blaise has always been unable to keep his nose from other people's business. He's gotten rather good at slipping through the cracks."

"Slipping through the cracks? Is that how we're calling it now?" Pansy asked, disdain written all over her face. "How quaint."

Alessa turned to her. "You have a more appropriate way of phrasing it, dear sister in law?"

"I can think of a few, yes. It might be because, unlike you, I have more than two brain cells to rub together."

"Oh, dear, was I supposed to be offended by that?" Alessa said, flipping her long hair over her shoulder in an unnecessary dramatic move.

Pansy visibly took a deep breath. "Is there a reason for your presence here or are you just wasting our collective time?"

"I'm here to help, of course," She assured, winking at Harry. "I'll need the bigger picture, though, handsome."

"Bigger picture?" Ginny asked, pursing her lips. "How do you even know something is happening?"

"Only an idiot wouldn't realize the tension surrounding the last meeting. Not only was Krum missing without explanations, but you two looked practically attached at the hip," she explained, mentioning to Harry and Hermione with a finger. She looked at Daphne, seeming to notice her presence for the first time. "What about the Ice Queen, here? Is she searching for my brother as well?"

Harry didn't know what overcame him. It had been posed as a joke, and Daphne was more than capable of defending herself if she felt the need to. And yet, disregarding that, Harry felt his hackles rising as his body slid sideways to stand in front of Daphne's body, shielding her from view. Worst, though, was the warning that came from his mouth.

"She's my guest here. Back off," He said, dead serious. Even a burst of magic escaped from his tight hold, giving more weight to his words.

It was a completely disproportionate reaction to Alessa's words, and Harry knew that, could feel the disbelief coming from his rational side. His dying rational side wasn't alone, however. Everyone around him looked flabbergasted that Harry had reacted in such a way, and even without turning to confirm, Harry could sense Daphne's eyes burning on his back.

Both Alessa's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Someone is protective. Is there something you wanna share with the class?"

God, Harry was ready for that day to be over.

XxXxXxXxXxxXXxXX

The second Harry sat down in the kitchen to have a glass of scotch; Luna appeared out of nowhere.

"Gabrielle is awake and calling for you," was the only warning she gave him before grabbing his wrist and basically pushing him inside his guest room. Harry exhaled in defeat and followed her, already mentally preparing himself for the conversation.

And there she was. Gabrielle looked rough — like she was recovering from a long-term disease. Injured and sweaty, her sleep gave her no appearance of proper rest. Supported by a stack of pillows, she was half-sitting on the bed, covered by a thick duvet, even as she sweated through it.

"How are you?" Harry inquired, knowing the answer already but trying to keep the politeness.

"How do you think?" She snapped, her voice raspy. "Like someone who was kidnapped by people threating to sell me off to the highest bidder."

"They weren't going to sell you," He informed, coming closer to the bed and watching as she inhaled deeply as he drew near. "I believe you were only a...convinient mean to an end. I'm not sure if you find that comforting."

"I don't, but I do want to know the truth. Fleur looked ready to puke when I asked her. I assume you'll tell me what happened?"

"It's not going to be easier, knowing," He warned.

"I don't want easier. Who had me kidnapped?"

"Your mother." There, he said it.

Gabrielle closed her eyes, pained. "Merlin… I can't."

Weird.

"You don't sound all that surprised."

"I'm not," She explained, although her eyes remained closed. "They liked to tease me about it — I had hoped that it was but another scare method. Obviously, it was not."

"She's still in a coma, alongside your father."

"Please, he didn't— I mean, he wasn't—," She demanded and pleaded all at once, opening her eyes to search him for answers.

"Your father was not involved," Harry said. "Your mother acted on her own."

"You sure?"

Harry dropped his hand on the lump that was her foot. Gabrielle looked so damn young lying on that bed, desperate for reassurement on her family members from him — a virtual stranger to whom she was now bonded for life.

"He wasn't involved, Gabrielle. There are no doubts about that."

She sagged a little, trusting implicitly in his words, which made his mind jump straight to all the ways that could be a problem. No one who was in a relationship with him could be that susceptible — not without consequences.

"I bit you," She stated, pulling him from his thoughts. It wasn't a question.

"You did. Almost got me and Ginny arrested, too," He commented, lightly.

"You date Hermione Granger. I'm sure you are aware that the bond can't happen when one person resists it. It had to be accepted by both parties."

"Don't," Harry warned, squeezing her foot. "You were hurt and desperate, and I felt — feel — deeply responsible for putting you in danger. Don't mistake acceptance for desire."

It was, perhaps, harsh to be so blunt with her when she had just survived a traumatic experience, but he was being pulled at all directions lately, and hearing her throw at his face that the bond needed to he reciprocal rubbed him in all the wrong ways.

"Please, don't spare my feelings or whatever."

"I don't have the time to coddle you, right now."

Gabrielle watched him for a moment, as though she was deciding what to say next.

"Touch me," She demanded. "I need you to touch me."

"You know, by the wizarding law, you're making a pedophile out of he," Harry commented, although he was already closing the distance separating them, moving his hand to place it at the top of her head, ruffling her hair lightly.

"Hermione might hit you for that misinformation," Gabrielle said, heavily leaning into the touch. "I'm a part-veela, normal laws don't apply to me."

"How convenient," He faux mocked, carding his fingers through her blond hair, which somehow had no tangles in it despite the recent mistreatment. "How are you, Gabrielle?" He asked again, softer that time.

"Tired. Overwhelmed. Betrayed. Scared. Tired. I don't know. What's the proper response to have when your own mother does something like that?"

"I don't think there's a proper response," Harry said, knowing reactions varied so much from person to person. "Whatever you are feeling now is legit, I think. Don't stress too much about it."

She absorbed the words for a moment before speaking again. "I shifted."

"You were, indeed, partially shifted when we arrived. Do you remember that?"

"Sort of. I remember smelling you and it driving me wilder than before. I could feel you were near, and I was restrained," She said, wrinkling her nose. "I remember it pissing my veela side off."

"Gabrielle—"

"It shouldn't have been possible," she stated, bending back to meet his eyes. "You know that, right? I'm a quarter-veela, Harry. I shouldn't be feeling my mate, and I definitely shouldn't be shifting."

He could see it in her eyes that she had a supposition for what was happening, and perhaps it was unfair of him to press when she was still recovering from an aggressive hostage situation, but he could hardly hold the words back when her expression gave so much away. "What's your guess?" He asked, resuming the pattern he had been tracing on her scalp.

A mix of smile and grimace settled on her face. "There aren't many possibilities, are there? Unless your Hermione has information about veelas I'm unaware of, the only thing I can think is that my father is not, in fact, my father."

"What?"

"It makes sense." She took a deep breath. "My father doesn't have a drop of veela on his bloodline, Harry, and it would take quite a few to make this possible."

Harry wanted to deny the accusation, if only for her peace of mind, but the words died on his lips before he could offer her any false platitudes. He hadn't stayed more than a few minutes inside Appoline's mind — only enough to gather all the information he could on her plans for the kidnapping. However, the general thoughts running through her mind, the essence of who that woman was, the feel of her magic, it all felt wrong to him. He didn't imagine she was above cheating on her husband.

Instead, he began. "Fleur never showed any signs of—"

"Nothing," Gabrielle interrupted, her eyes flashing with something akin to pain. "Other than her physical attributes, she has nothing. If I...I mean, if I'm not… If my father isn't— then, yeah, we're probably not sisters."

"Even if you don't share the same father, Fleur will still be your sister, Gabrielle," Harry said, trying to convey with his eyes how much he meant that. "You grew up together; you love each other. Anything else is irrelevant. The family you choose for yourself is much more important than the one you're born with."

"It doesn't make me any less of a bastard to my family, though."

"For the love of—," Harry tugged her hair lightly, bringing her focus to the present. "I cannot express enough how much your father — your true father, you raised you from birth — is concerned about you, lying in that hospital bed. No one who matters will care about that."

She knit her brows together. "Are you saying it doesn't change anything to you?"

"Me? Why would it change anything to me?"

"You said anyone who matters," Gabrielle clarified. "You matter to me. You are my mate, and you are in the middle of a crazy public process. If this comes out, it won't be pretty."

The way she said it, it almost seemed like a treat, as though she was daring him to accept the mess that came with her, and Harry didn't know whether to smile or cry. Did she even know who she was talking to? Wasn't Harry the one who usually looked at people with that expression? Half expecting to be rejected, half hoping the person would be brave enough to stay.

To see it mirrored in the face of a sixteen-year-old girl, who had done absolutely nothing to deserve it, tugged something inside of him, a protective streak, that made him want to shelter her from the rest of the world.

"No, it doesn't. It doesn't matter to me if it will be pretty or not," He stated. "What happened wasn't your fault, Gabrielle. None of this is your fault. Whatever happens from now on, we'll deal with it, okay? Don't let it go to your head. Everything will be fine."

And perhaps it was a tiny white lie on his part to say it would be alright when he had absolutely no idea whether it would or wouldn't, but when the last word crossed his lips she had tears forming on her gorgeous eyes, and she looked so grateful for it that he couldn't find it in himself to feel guilty for it.

AN2: All comments are crazy appreciated. :)