Hey guys how's it going! Hope everyone is keeping safe during this tough time in-doors.

I bring you guys a small gift in the form of a new chapter for this crazy tale of mine.

I hope you all enjoy it as much as I had fun writing it. And of course if you do please let me know by leaving a review. They keep me writing. And honestly are what fuel me to keep this story of mine going.

A quick warning for implied r/

Chapter 19: Preparations

The Dark Lord had returned.

After careful planning.

He had finally returned to them.

Like a virtuous Lord he had immediately set about to purge the world of the mudblood retch.

Taking calculated steps and instructing those in positions of power within the Ministry.

The Ministry ever trying to staunch the spread of the news of their Lord's return.

Turned a blind eye to the happenings in the background.

More the pity for them when they finally realized that the Dark Lord was indeed back.

Back to take his rightful place.

To reinstate purebloods to their rightful place as the betters of society.

For it was they who would lead the world into the future.

His Lordship's ever faithful servants were busy setting about the pieces for a hostile takeover.

A mistake would not be tolerated.

Not when their Lord had achieved coming back to them.

Ancient Powerful Magic.

Their Lord would light the way.

"Incarcerous!"

"Petrificus Totalus!"

"Locomotor Mortis!"

Since the school term had ended, Hermione's days had been filled with constant dueling drills followed by learning how to cast advanced magic.

Some light. But in a change of pace, mostly Dark.

Her father and mother had deemed it the right time to start teaching her advanced spells of the more dark nature. Which if Hermione was being honest had both frightened her and excited her thirst for knowledge.

Spells of a dark nature were not to be taken lightly. They were predominantly offensive magic. But deadly magic that did aim to bring harm to one's opponent. Excruciatingly painful harm.

"His Lordship expects the best Hermione and you are the best," her father had said with pride as he and her mother had finally allowed her to read some of the more ancient tomes in the Lestrange manor.

Their family was rich in history. A pureblooded family that had permanently immigrated from France just a few generations previous. They'd been close to extinction but had been saved by their ancestor, Hermione's great grandmother Leta Lestrange and her late husband, Theseus Scamander.

Their son Corvus Lestrange VI, Hermione's grandfather, had been a fair albeit ruthless Head of family and had instilled that same manner of being into his sons. Her father and uncle had had nothing but grand things to say about Hermione's grandfather. A man who had refused to remarry after his late wife's passing while in childbirth. Her uncle Rabastan had promised her he'd make sure she had a love like theirs when she was younger. Much to her father's chastisement as he'd half jokingly stated that "No man will ever be good enough for my Hermione,"

Her uncle had simply laughed in turn and winked at her, "Well more's the pity to the poor bloke that becomes ensnared by your charm,"

If only she'd known how ironic that statement would prove to be.

For she'd not ensnared a bloke at all, but a beautiful french witch by the name of Fleur Isabelle Delacour.

Her Fleur was a recent graduate of Beauxbaton who'd competed in the Triwizard Tournament the year previous. She'd been the chosen champion for her school and that had impressed the Dark Lord.

Impressed him enough to have invited the Delacours to meet with him.

He'd been interested to meet Fleur's father. Clement Delacour, a pureblooded wizard from a family whose lineage had formed the French wizarding country.

Yes, he'd been the most impressed by that tad bit of knowledge.

So a letter had been sent via personal delivery by one of the Dark Lord's most faithful. Yaxly.

No one needs know about the behind the scenes strings.

Not until it was too late.

"Imperio," a direct hit.

"Tsk Tsk, Hermione we taught you better than that," Rabastan Lestrange chided wand pointed at Hermione.

Willing her limbs to move, Hermione could not seem to move them.

A moment later, with the flick of the wand Rabastan Lestrange released the spell.

Hermione regaining her mobility released a breath she had not known she was holding.

"Sorry uncle," she excused herself, raising her wand to continue their duel.

"Good," Rabastan's only response as he made a run for the young adult.

This caught Hermione off guard as she shot an "Immobulus," in an attempt to stop her uncle from his charge. This did little to stop the man as he simply jerked to the right dodging her spell and tackled her to the ground.

"You left yourself wide open," Rabastan chided again, pulling himself up and extending his hand for his niece to take.

"Right," Hermione agreed, taking note of her uncle's technique. This had been her daily as the summer days had progressed. Advanced dueling, mixed with a more unorthodox approach. For a war was coming in the years to come. Her father and mother had both made it a point to stress that fact as they had supped one evening.

"You must be ready, his Lordship expects no less from a scion of the Lestrange line" Her mother had said as she nodded in turn. She would not disappoint her parents. She just hoped that the new world to come would be kind to the un-expected 'friends' she'd made along the way. Sirius and Harry.

Although the latter she knew would not have a kind ending. It hadn't been uttered in her presence, but she knew. Nothing good would come for Harry Potter, not while his Lordship reigned.

"Wand at the ready Hermione!," Rabastan Lestrange shouted, gathering Hermione's attention once more.

- x -

"You did well today Hermione," Rodolphus Lestrange spoke as he sat at the head of a long table. The four members of House Lestrange had just sat down for their evening meal.

"Well? She did quite brilliant," Rabastan boasted, their duel had taken a sudden shift when her uncle had released a boggart and the darn thing had shifted into Albus Dumbledore holding his wand against the throat of her cousin Draco.

Her blood had run cold at that. For it was no secret to her parents that she did have a slight fear of the Hogwarts Headmaster, anyone with their head screwed on straight would. He was a wizard not to be trifled with and he had the power to harm her loved ones, or so her parents had warned her from a very young age.

She'd tried to disarm the boggart but it had simply flicked her spells off with the flick of its other hand. Wandless magic, for it was known that Dumbledore had the power to perform such an advanced level of magic.

It had in turn shot spell after spell at her. Taunting her all the while as her cousin had struggled against its hold.

After many unsuccessful attempts. Hermione had been at her wits end. The boggart Dumbledore had started to utter the Avada-Kedavra curse when in a final desperate attempt she'd cast her first unforgivable curse "Crucio!" That seemed to have somewhat done the trick as the boggart Dumbledore had been brought to its knees releasing her cousin, a quick "Riddikulus," in rapid succession dispelling the boggart.

Hermione's uncle quickly stepped in and caught the boggart in a small box soon after.

"You successfully cast your first unforgivable today," her mother Bellatrix Lestrange exclaimed with pride. She'd been present when she'd cast the spell. Had been watching her duel against her uncle as the two had both been taking turns instructing her. Her father had been hard at work at the Ministry, helping set in motion some of the Dark Lord's carefully crafted plans.

"I bet Draco hasn't cast his first yet," she boasted once more, Rodolphus chuckling into his wine cup at his wife's comment.

It was no secret that her parents and Draco's father had a healthy competition going throughout the summer. She and Draco had written to each other all summer and so she knew that he was receiving private lessons of his own via his father.

Yes they both needed to be ready for what was to come.

"I've received confirmation that the Delacours are to be arriving in less than a fortnight," Rodolphus spoke, changing the topic to more pressing issues.

Nodding her mother replied "I've instructed the elves to ready the room's we've allocated for their stay,"

"Good," Rodolphus' response.

After careful planning his Lordship's demand to meet with Clement Delacour would come to fruition.

The Delacour patriarch would come with his wife and eldest daughter. For his Lordship had expressed a slight interest in wanting to meet the fearsome young lady that had managed to control a dragon during the Triwizard Tournament.

"The pureblood blood of her father allowed for a successful display of magic," their Lordship had explained to his followers as he had believed their plight. Much to their satisfaction, Bellatrix had simply smirked at McNair as their Lordship expressed that he'd like to meet the french witch.

"A half-breed but she will give your daughter strong children that will be brought up like purebloods," their Lordship had gone on.

This had both calmed their nerves and put them on edge. As the reality of the situation had set in ever more. Their daughter would be married to the Delacour heir. As their Lord had stated. She would give their daughter strong children. Which indicated that their union would be expected as soon as their daughter was of an age.

They'd hoped to put off the union as long as could be.

It seemed that this would not be the case.

Their Lordship demanded loyalty.

And they had given it.

The time to collect on that would come sooner rather than later.

- x -

"An unforgivable," Narcissa Malfoy nee Black exclaimed, bringing her hands to cover her mouth in shock.

"It would seem so," Lucius Malfoy, her husband explained, he'd finished an important floo call with his good-brother, who'd been all the more boastful about his progeny's successful cast of the Cruciatus curse. It would seem their little Hermione, who'd once been too afraid to even say hello as a small child of 3 to any other adult, not her parents and paternal uncle had managed to cast an Unforgivable.

"She's too young," Narcissa tried to reason, this had been a dread of hers since the Dark Lord's return. Their children would be used as soldiers in this war to come. To fight a noble cause. But would have to endanger their lives to do so. She'd hoped with every fiber of her being that it would not be the case for Hermione. She was a pureblooded young lady of the Aristocracy. The heiress to the Lestrange fortune and all of its lands and titles. Surely she could be spared having to be used as fodder for this war. It simply wasn't done for ladies of their station.

But she supposed there was little to be done. Her opinions did not matter in this instance. Not when her mother was Bellatrix Lestrange, the Dark Lord's right hand. Her precious niece who'd picked flowers in the garden of their Manor when she'd been all but four years of age. Who had run around with Draco as small children. Innocent children. She'd hoped that they could be spared.

That was not to be. Her darling boy had been going through drill after drill of combat dueling, her husband had seen to that. She'd bandaged him up and generously added healing salve to his wounds soon afterwards.

She knew her husband meant well, knew that Lucius would do anything for their boy. But she also understood that severity of importance. The training needed to happen to ensure Draco knew how to defend himself when the time came.

"Against who?" Draco asked his father. The two of them had been having after dinner coffee when his father had come in with his bit of news.

"A boggart," Lucius answered, taking the seat next to his wife.

Taking her hands in his, he turned to look at his son once more.

"She's grasped the message, of what needs to be done,"

Draco could only look back at his father's gaze in turn.

"You will need to learn to grasp it as well, if you hope to one day join his Lordship's ranks," Lucius stressed, his son's jugular bobbed for a brief second before the boy nodded in turn.

"Yes father,"

- x -

In a far away land.

On a far away manor.

Stood a man overlooking the roaring sea.

His manor overlooked an expansive sea, the waves roaring in anticipation of their next victim.

He had much to think on.

He and his wife and eldest would be departing on the morrow.

Departing to meet the Dark Lord of Britain.

He was nervous, as any man of sound mind should be.

The man they were soon to meet was considered one of the most powerful wizards since Grindlewald.

A fearsome man.

A man not to be trifled with.

Not to be taken lightly.

The sudden sound of a door banging open took him away from his thoughts. Turning to look behind at the sound, he was greeted with his younger brother's stormy face.

"You're meeting that creature!?" Aurelien Delacour, the second born Delacour son to the previous head of the house of Delacour, exclaimed.

"Most send a raven," Clement responded, his younger brother was not known for his strong outbursts, but had been prone to them as of late. Rather whenever talk of the dark wizards from England came up. It was like adding fodder to a roaring fire.

"And most don't betroth their heir to maniacal wizards but here we are," Aurellien bit back.

"She is Fleur's mate, you know as well as I that there would have been nothing I could have done to prevent it," Clement tried to reason, as he had been made aware that for one of veela blood, regardless of diluted blood as his daughters had. It would be near impossible to stop the urge to be with one's mate. He'd seen first hand when he and Apoline had been youths.

Taking a breath to try to collect himself, Aurelien locked gazes with his elder brother once more.

"He could very well kill you," the danger was there and they both knew it. What this Lord Voldemort was capable of. His prowess was legendary.

"Then you will have to guide Fleur," Clement calmly replied, he knew that should anything befall him, that his eldest would take his place. Whether he passed through natural or sudden causes. His daughter had been groomed from an early age to one day take his place. As he'd been groomed to do so by his father, Aurelien V.

"And if something should befall her!?" Aurelien exclaimed, for it was this fear that gripped him. His brother and his niece meant the world to him. He'd not let anything happen to either, least not while he still drew breath.

"Then Gabrielle," Clement responded, tone growing stern. Yes this was also a possibility. One that he hoped would never come to pass. For his youngest was a free spirit, a young spirited girl full of wonder. Who's spirit would be crushed should she ever have to assume such a responsibility. Not like his Fleur, his eldest had been born to take her place as the head of their family one day.

"Allow me to come with you," Aurelien pleaded. He'd be able to ensure their protection if he'd be allowed to accompany them.

"You'd leave your wife and children without a husband and father?" Clement responded.

"I've already asked Chevalier to oversee their care while I am away," Aurelien pleaded once more.

Taking a few minutes to think on this with care, Clement finally relented with a sigh.

"Very well, but let no one know of your departure," Clement instructed. No one needs know about his family's dealings.

- x -

"Wetheral! Wetheral!," Walden McNair shouted as he stalked about his manor looking for his son. "Now where's that blasted boy gone off to!" he thought to himself as he stalked about the rooms.

A groan caught his attention as he rounded a corner and blasted open a nearby door. Making his way inside the room he was greeted to the sight of his eldest son grunting atop a crying young lady.

"Not this again! Seize this now!" he shouted as his son scrambled off the young lady. The young lady scrambled to find her clothes, and dressed with haste.

His son struggled to do the same as he hastily pulled a pair of breeches on.

"This insolence needs to stop Wetheral!" Walden fumed as he pulled out a few galleons from his pocket and stretched his hand out for the girl to take.

"Be off with you girl, and tell no one of this," the girl hastily nodded and took the galleons in hand. Fleeing from the room.

"You dare sully our family by bringing a whore to our manor," Walden accused, the girl had been in a state when he'd gotten a good look at her face. Red cheeked as if she'd been recently struck, welts that looked to be forming into proper bruises on her arms.

"I meant no offence father," Wetheral replied, he'd mean to be as discreet as possible with this latest thryst. No one would be none wiser of his dealings if he brought the girl to his home.

"Offence," his father scoffed.

"You waste your time on things like this when you should be training," Walden scolded. His son huffing in annoyance in turn.

"I'm skilled enough," Wetheral responded with an annoyed huff.

"Have you successfully cast an Unforgivable yet?" Walden accused, he'd been privy to the announcement, when Rodolphus had proudly boasted to their Lord of his daughter's achievement. The Cruciatus, a girl much less a 15 year old girl, had managed to perform an Unforgivable curse. When his own son who was 7 years her elder had not been able to as of yet.

"Apparently not as skilled as a 15 year old!" Walden accused.

"What!?" Wetheral exclaimed in outrage.

"The Lestrange girl has managed to successfully perform the cruciatus while you waste your days abusing whores," Walden accused as he walked over and grabbed his son by the shoulder.

"No longer, you will begin to train starting today," the elder McNair said with finality as he pulled his fumbling son with him.

Yes, he'd prove to his Lord that his son was the superior scion. Would put Rodolphus in his place.

- x -

"We welcome you with open arms," The Dark Lord announced from his seated position on his throne of sorts.

Clement Delacour and his wife and eldest daughter stood a careful distance away and each respectfully bowed their heads. Aurelien Delacour stood a few respectful feet away from his elder brother and family, also bowing in order.

"The honor is ours my Lord," Clement Delacour spoke with as much reverence as he could muster, as he stood at attention, his family members following his lead.

"We've heard nothing but great things," The Dark Lord spoke, taking a careful eye to take in the French before him.

"And we are honor bound to assist in his Lord's plight," Clement responded.

The Dark Lord regarded the man before him, Clement Delacour. The head of the most noble and ancient line of Delacour. A line of purebloods of great renown. Who's very ancestor Florent Dealcour battled and subdued each of the noble houses of great power in the land. Back in more archaic times when the land was wrought with war and devastation. No end of suffering for its inhabitants in sight. He'd fought and won the fealty of all of his adversaries, uniting the country and bringing peace throughout the land. The family had ruled as the reigning monarchs of wizarding France for many generations. Vanquishing any foe that dare threaten to bring an end to the hard fought peace. It wasn't until near the end of the 19th century that the family had decided to step down from their position of power and decided a more modern approach of governance of the land was needed. And so the ministry of magic of France had been created and the first minister Antoine Evreux took the first mantle of governance in the modern world.

But that was then.

"And is this your eldest?" the Dark Lord stated, the young blonde took a step forward beside her father giving a slight bow in turn.

"Oui, zis is mai eldest Fleur," Clement introduced. He could feel the nervousness radiating off of his daughter, he only hoped the man before them did not pick up on it.

"You performed an impressive display of magic the year past, or so I'm told," The Dark Lord commented as he took in the blonde, tall and fair. This was the girl that his most devout had decided to betroth their heiress too. Only time would tell if she could be trusted.

"I attribute my success to the teachings of my father," Fleur responded in turn, prior to their journey to Britain, her father and uncle had both made it a point to stress the importance of blood purity. And while they themselves did not believe in such fanatic beliefs, they needed to play a part while dealing with the english wizards they'd affianced themselves too. At least for the time being. Fleur had understood, and had decided to play to the preferences of the later. She'd have to control the anger that simmered below should this Dark Lord say something in offence to her creature blood.

For her beloved.

She'd do anything.

"Of course, pureblood tells," The Dark Lord's response.

"But I suppose you could indulge me? With a performance?" the Dark Lord went on, catching the french delegation off guard.

Clement felt his blood turn cold. His brother a safe distance away readying his mind for a fight. His wife to his other side feeling much the same.

The Dark Lord studied the girl for a few seconds.

Not one to balk at a challenge Fleur mustered her courage and nodded in turn.

"It 'ould be mai 'onor," Fleur responded with as much courage as she could muster, heart beating wild. Is this where she would meet her end.

"Very good," the Dark Lord said with a grin.

"McNair! Bring forth your son!" the Dark Lord barked as a sandy blonde haired man pushed forward a similar looking young man with sandy blonde hair and a crooked nose.

"Wetheral your father states you long to prove yourself," the Dark Lord stated as the sandy haired youth walked forward.

"Yes my Lord," Wetheral responded. This had come as a surprise to him. He'd get a chance to duel the french bitch that had dared to take what was his.

"Miss Delacour is an accomplished witch, a triwizard Champion, see how you fair," The Dark Lord ordered as he motioned for the two youths to get into position.

Taking one last glance at her parents and uncle Fleur turned to face the sandy haired man.

She remembered him from the year previous. She'd not liked the way he'd looked at Hermione, she'd sensed something off about him the moment he'd made his presence known. And the reaction Hermione's friends and cousin had had towards him had not helped.

She'd put him in his place.

Moving to stand to one side the Delacours moved a safe distance away from the two young people. Giving them plenty of room to duel.

The two youths stared at each other, each not breaking eye contact as they got into position and bowed to signal the beginning of their duel.

"Cunfundo!" Wetheral shouted, drawing the first attack.

Fleur dodged by jerking to the left avoiding the spell. The spell hitting a nearby Death Eater in turn.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Fleur responded in turn. The young man dodged right to avoid the attack and followed it with "Diffindo!" directed straight for her head.

Fleur narrowly avoided the attack by dropping to the ground and rolling to the side.

The young man before her smirked as he broke into a charge at her.

"Ventus!" Fleur defended, a gust of wind shooting forth from her wand throwing the young man back several feet into the air. Flicking her wand an instant later, the young man promptly fell face first onto the ground.

Taking a moment to look up at the Dark Lord, Fleur saw a blood thirst she'd never seen before. Not even in Viktor the year previous when he'd been Imperioused.

She wasted no more time as she shot off a quick "Petrificus Totalus," at the young man that was slowly coming too. In his fall he'd knocked his head too hard against the ground, mores the pity.

"Well done," the Dark Lord praised as he watched the McNair heir struggle against his confines. Wand laying a short distance away.

"How disappointing Walden," The Dark Lord commented as Walden McNair rushed to his son.

"If you would Fleur," the Dark Lord asked with an unprecedented familiarity, a familiarity that put the Delacours on edge.

Not wasting a moment more, Fleur flicked her wand ending the body binding spell on the young man.

"I'd hoped to honor you with the Dark Mark," the Dark Lord mused aloud as he stared down at the young man stumbling to his feet, his father beside him.

"Pity, you gave a poor display," the Dark Lord said with disdain. The sandy haired youth grimaced in turn.

"My Lord if I could just-

"No need, now leave my sight, I tire of your wretched display,"

The young man looked like he wanted to say more, but the steady hand of his father on his shoulder reigned him in. With a bow the elder of the men excused the two of them.

"My Lord,"

As the two men walked out of the throne-like room the Dark Lord turned his attention back to the blonde french witch.

"Impressive dueling abilities and the ability to exercise the necessary restraint with an underlying ferocity," the Dark Lord praised aloud. From their position a short distance away in the crowd the Lestranges preened at the compliments their Lord was bestowing upon their daughter's betrothed.

"You've chosen well Bellatrix, Rodolphus," the Dark Lord commented as he sat upon his throne.

"Yes a fine addition," the Dark Lord mused.

"Ask a boon and I will grant it," he stated, surprising all in attendance.

Not missing a moment, Fleur spoke up.

"If it would please his Lordship, I would like the opportunity to learn the workings of the British Ministry," Fleur spoke aloud, the Dark Lord contemplated the request.

"Surely a witch of your pedigree could gain a position of the same caliber within the French Ministry?" the Dark Lord challenged.

"I am to become the head of my house once my father's time comes to an end, I'd like to be given the opportunity to immerse myself in his Lordship's country if he would be gracious enough to grant me the opportunity," Fleur responded in turn.

"Gain an understanding for our ways," the Dark Lord mused aloud.

"His Lordship's country is renowned for its political prowess across the world, none rival it," Fleur attempted to appeal to the Dark Lord.

This earned a smirk from the Dark Lord.

"Very well, Lucius," the Dark Lord called.

"My Lord," Lucius Malfoy responds in turn, taking a step forward.

"See to it that our young friend be given a position within the Ministry, you've got the ear of the Minister," the Dark Lord ordered as the blonde man nodded in turn.

"Consider it done My Lord," Lucius responded, ``yes it would be all too easy to acquire a position for the young blonde. With her formidable reputation and pedigree he'd be able to secure her a position of sufficient power. Perhaps as a Junior Assistant to the Minister of Magic himself.

- x -

"You put McNair in his place," Draco started with a grin, as he sat across from Fleur, Hermione seated beside him on the couch. They were waiting to be called to dinner while their parents discussed business matters.

Fleur smiled in turn, she hoped that she'd get a moment alone with her beloved during her stay in the English country. And she'd be enjoying an extended stay it seemed. As Lucius Malfoy, her betrothed's uncle had informed her soon after their audience with the Dark Lord. He'd only have but to wait for the confirmation from the Minister. Her position as a Junior Assistant to the Minister himself was all but secured.

"You'll have to teach me that spell you cast at the end," Draco went on. Hermione beside him could only look at her betrothed. So close yet so far, she hoped they could get a moment alone preferably without Draco chaperoning them.

"Oui, it iz not 'ard to conjur," Fleur responded, Draco across from her beamed.

"How 'as your summer been?" She asked the two.

The younger teens tensed slightly at the question, but quickly collected themselves.

This did not go unnoticed by Fleur, she made a mental note to ask Hermione before the end of her brief trip.

"School work and books mostly," Hermione was the first to respond.

"Agreed, I've been getting some flying in here and there but not much time for it with the added school work they've added," Draco responded as well.

"School work? But ze term 'as ended non?" Fleur asked.

"Our parents have 'school work' that they like to assign us during the summer to keep us alert and ready for the following term," Draco quickly tried to save. For it was true, however the shift in nature of the 'work' had shifted that summer.

"We have Owls in 5th year, it's a subject specific standardized test that we must take in order to qualify for the Newt level courses in our sixth year," Hermione explains. As Fleur nods in turn.

"Ah we 'ave much the same at Bauxbaton, only we take zem in our fourth year," Fleur explains.

The three strike up idle chat about the coming exams.

- x -

"Today went well," Clement began as he sat on a chair beside a desk in the spacious chamber they'd been given for their brief stay.

"Well? That Madman tried to have Fleur harmed," Aurelien spoke in a hushed voice.

They'd taken the liberty of casting protection spells on the chamber as well as several silencing charms so as to not be overheard.

"Fleur held her own," Clement tries to reason. His wife seated on a chair beside him looks at the two men with an almost unreadable expression.

"She'll need to, to survive in this nest of vipers," Apolline reasons. The two men nod in turn. They'd not expected Fleur to request to stay in the English country. Had actually hoped they'd be able to convince the Lestranges to have Hermione spend the rest of the summer in France.

But now that was an impossibility. Their Fleur had taken a bold step in uncharted waters. Waters that they had no control over, unpredictable at best. But dangerous nonetheless.

"We will have to secure her safe accommodations," Aurelien thinks aloud.

"Could you," Clement begins, his brother as if reading his mind nods in turn.

"I will look tomorrow while you are in discussions with Rodolphus Lestrange," Aurelien informs. He takes this as his cue to excuse himself for the evening and departs for the chambers he'd been given.

"Our Fleur has stepped into a dangerous nest," Apolline states.

Clement can only nod in turn.

Their Fleur would have to be on the alert to navigate this new world.

- x -

Aaaaand that's all folks! Or at least for now.

Please let me know what you thought of the chapter by leaving a review. Reviews give me life and keep me writing.

See you guys in the next chapter!

-CatSnidget