Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction based on the Harry Potter universe. All recognizable characters, plots and settings are the exclusive property of J.K Rowling. I make no claim to ownership nor do I make any profit.

Acknowledgments: Thank you to my betas James Marx and mineng101 for their work on this story. An additional shoutout to Discord user Kale for the extra help on this chapter.

Self Promotion: I have a discord server where you can chat and read all of my chapters early. If you would like to join, simply copy the link on my profile and for. I had to write it in that format for the site to allow it on my profile.

Authors Note:

One quick note before we start. I really do appreciate all of the PM's asking for the next chapter of this story as it means I am clearly doing something right, but please don't leave reviews on other stories asking about this one. It doesn't happen often but I've seen it a few times now and though it is sort of touching in a way, it is also quite out of place and mildly irritating when I'm looking for people's thoughts and feedback on that story.

This story will be updated when it's updated. I know my other ongoing stories are updated weekly, but frankly, this is by far the hardest story for me to write and each chapter usually takes me at least four drafts before I'm satisfied. It's not that I don't want to get these chapters out quickly as much as that I physically can't do so without sacrificing quality. I will promise you a minimum of two uploads a month from here on out until book 1's conclusion but I really can't promise any more than that.

With that being said, I am looking forward to debunking a few false assumptions some of you seem to have made in this chapter. Always speculate but never expect. :)

Thank you all for your continued support.

"Speech."

'Internal Dialogue.

Parseltongue.

French/In Story Text.

Memories.

Chapter 25: Coming Clean.

Harry's body had felt hot for several minutes now. Ever since the dragon had raked its razor sharp claws down his arm, an odd, prickly, distinctly unpleasant warmth had permeated that side of his body. Now though, as his mind seemed to stop working altogether and he suddenly forgot such trivial things as his name, where he was, everything that had ever happened in his life and what way was up, Harry felt a different, far less familiar warmth spread throughout his body. This time, it did not emanate from a limb that was screaming its protest with every receptor it possessed, it seemed to be radiating outwards from the soft, not at all painful area that he vaguely remembered to be his lips.

He felt pressure on both sides of his body and smelt a rather intoxicating, rather flowery scent that was not as unfamiliar to him as the myriad of feelings crashing through his body like an incoming tide. It was that familiarity that allowed Harry to remember some fundamental facts and piece together some others.

His name was Harry Potter. He was a fourth year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had just out flown a bloody dragon in the first task of the 1994-1995 Triwizard Tournament. His broom, the first symbol that he was more than just a freak, had been lost in the battle. That realization sent a sharp pang through his chest, momentarily shattering the protective bubble of warmth that had seemed to encompass his being. The warmth pressed in again a few seconds later when he came to his next two realizations.

He was in the warm, familiar embrace of Gabrielle Delacour and her not nearly so familiar, impossibly soft lips were pressed lightly against his own.

Before he could do much more than begin to respond, Gabrielle took her lips off of his and looked him in the eye. That blazing look behind her deep blue eyes faltered for a moment. "You are 'urt." She noted with some worry, gently sliding her hand up to his arm and causing him to wince.

"I'm fine." He responded instinctively, still not entirely back in a right state of mind.

She sniffed. "You would probably tell me you were fine if you 'ad been tortured for ssree dayz on end. Come 'ere, we are going to get you cleaned up."

"Shouldn't you be with your sister?" He asked as a certain degree of rational thinking made itself available to him once more. "I don't want you to-"

"Shh." She told him softly, briefly touching a finger to his lips to silence him before taking a tight grip on his hand. He winced as soon as she moved; she had taken the hand of his bad arm since his other arm was currently cradling the golden egg. Observant as ever, Gabrielle frowned and peered at him before waving her hand and causing the golden egg to float out of Harry's grasp and hover alongside them as she switched to his other side to take the hand of his uninjured arm.

Harry just gaped at her. "You just — that's not even-"

"I will explain it to you later… I promise." She told him, fixing him with a glare at least as stern as any she had ever levelled upon him before now. "We will be talking later." She told him without an ounce of doubt or question in her voice.

Harry nodded mutely. "Gabrielle… I'm s-"

Again, she silenced him by placing a finger against his lips before leading him towards the entrance of the tent that he had occupied alongside the other three champions before the first task. "Not now," she told him. "'arry, zere is so much to talk about and I 'ave no right to be accepting apologies from you, so please, let's talk about zis later, okay?" The look in her eyes would have been enough to melt any resolve he had against her, but seeing as he had none at present, it simply made him feel even more guilty for ignoring her for nearly two weeks.

Still, there was a miniscule but oh so real part of him that worried all of the affection he felt for her, the feeling of warmth and drowsiness that had overtaken him moments earlier and so much more were merely due to her veela heritage, but for now, he decided to let it go.

So again, he just nodded mutely.

"You did amazing!" She told him as they entered the tent. "You did at least as well as any ozer champion and your flying was magnifique!"

Harry sighed, trying to hold at bay the sadness that crept up at the mere mention of flying. "It wasn't worth my broom though." He said quietly.

She squeezed his hand gently. "Of course it waz worth ze broom! Whatever it may 'ave meant to you, it iz not worth dying over."

Harry couldn't help but smile. He had missed Gabrielle more than he had even realized. Her mix of empathetic and logical thinking was something that he had found in nobody else and for the first real time that year, he reflected on what his life would be like without her.

Immediately, he did not like the images that floated to the forefront of his mind's eye.

Gabrielle had quickly dragged Harry over to Madam Pomfrey, who was in fits over the mere idea of bringing four of the deadliest dragons on Earth to a school. "Where did it get you?" She asked him, sounding more relieved to see him alive than anything else.

"And do not tell 'er you're fine." Gabrielle ordered firmly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, your highness." He quipped, calling back to that day in the Great Hall that felt like an eternity ago now.

Madam Pomfrey nodded approvingly towards Gabrielle. "Keep her around if you get the chance, Mr. Potter. I dare say she may be the only thing that may have a chance at keeping you alive."

Gabrielle was visibly suppressing giggles as Harry tried not to flush. "I thank you for your overwhelming vote of confidence, Madam Pomfrey." He said dryly before answering her previous question which she was now asking through her glare as opposed to her words. "My right shoulder's a bit uh… shredded, and I think I've been burnt on my back and maybe shoulders and neck."

Quickly, the matron hustled Harry into a private area of the tent. When she told Gabrielle she was not allowed inside, the Veela girl just glared back at Madam Pomfrey with such intensity that even the matron, who's resolve was legendary amongst the past few generations of Hogwarts students faltered. "Unless you wish to try and force me out through magic, I am not leaving."

"Dear, do you not think it best if you are with your sister?"

"Fleur is fine. She told me to go when I talked to 'er. She's just applying burn cream." Gabrielle mock glared at Harry. "This one needs more watching, I think."

"This one can hear you, you know?" Harry muttered, earning him a glare that promptly sealed his lips.

"Oh… well — I suppose if Mr. Potter has no objections? None — very well then... I suppose." She instructed Harry to take a seat and remove his top, something that made him more than a little bit uncomfortable, but it was an order he did not dare disobey under the two glares he was receiving. He did not look at Gabrielle as he did so, afraid of how she might react to his clearly underfed frame. There were a few scars as well, but he wasn't worried as much about those. One on his arm from where the basilisk had bitten him, something she had already seen and a few miscellaneous ones from some typical falls as a child. There was one on his back from when Vernon had gotten a bit out of control with the belt the night after Harry had turned his teacher's hair blue, but he doubted Gabrielle would pick up on where that particular one had come from. Having not been looking up at her, Harry did not see her eyes widen upon it for the briefest of seconds before her features were schooled into an impressively impassive mask.

Madam Pomfrey made tisk tisk sounds for a moment. "The burns are not too bad; some burn cream will clear them up fast enough. The shoulder is more of an issue, but the cut will need to be cleaned before I can do much about it." She gestured to the green residue in his cut.

"Is that… venom?" Harry asked, trying to hide any nervousness that tried its utmost best to creep into his voice.

"In a sense, I suppose." Madam Pomfrey answered. "It will do no damage to you. Its purpose is to prevent healing; it's a natural feature of some of the nastier dragon breeds to help them hunt and the like. It is rather magic resistant, so you may wish to remove it manually." She paused at a moan of pain from somewhere outside their area.

"Go help the others." Harry told her. "I can clean this out and put on burn cream and such while you check on them and then you can heal my shoulder."

Madam Pomfrey hesitated but when Gabrielle told her that she would make sure Harry did as he said, she begrudgingly left.

"Give me zat." Gabrielle told Harry, snatching the bottle of whatever liquid was meant to clean his cut and wandlessly summoning a cloth. Harry debated telling her that he could do it himself, but truthfully, it would probably be faster for someone with two functioning arms to do it and he had a very strong feeling that his protests would not be taken well. As if she could read what he was thinking, Gabrielle smirked. "You're learning." She complimented him with some amusement, to which he rolled his eyes.

"This is going to burn like hell, isn't it?"

"Oui."

"Wonderful."

Personally, Harry thought the burning inflicted by the potion or whatever it was that Gabrielle rubbed gently onto his cut was worse than the actual cut had been itself, but he did not say that. He grit his teeth through the entire ordeal and did not so much as make a sound, though there were some near misses. When Gabrielle had finally finished, Harry let out a sigh of relief and let the tension leave his shoulders.

Gabrielle knelt down beside him and gently rubbed his back in a soothing manner. Harry felt an odd warmth in every spot her hand met his bare skin. He had never had somebody do this before, but it almost seemed to work too well.

"Your pain tolerance is much higher zan any fourteen year old boy's should be." She observed with a frown. "Most fully grown wizards moan and groan zeir way through using zat potion to clean poisoned or infected cuts." The look she gave him was far too searching and her touch paused on the faint scar on his back for an infinitesimal amount of time too long.

"I don't suppose there's any point in me coming up with a cover story, is there?" He asked, meeting her stare for the first time in several minutes.

"No," she said softly. "zere is not."

He chuckled darkly. "You are entirely too perceptive."

Her eyes darkened marginally. "Not really, I 'ave seen similar scars before, I know where zey come from." She paused. "We… don't 'ave to talk about zat, at least not all of it, but you're not denying it, are you?"

Harry hesitated only a second. "No," he admitted quietly. "I'm not."

From her kneeling position beside him, Gabrielle briefly paused the circles she was drawing on his back to wrap her arms gently around him, being careful not to apply too much pressure to his injured side. She let go far too quickly for Harry's liking, which in and of itself was odd since he had never liked hugs, when Madam Pomfrey re-entered the quarters.

Ten or so minutes later, Harry exited the private room with his shoulder bandaged and a guarantee that it would be better by the next morning and burn cream finally soaking into his skin. When he exited, he and Gabrielle quickly came face to face with her older sister. Harry tensed. He knew that Fleur did not approve of him even after she had deduced the truth about the tournament.

Gabrielle took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze and Fleur spoke, surprising Harry a great deal with her first question, let alone the fact that it was directed at him, not Gabrielle.

"Are you ok, 'arry?"

'First name and all?'

"Uh… yeah, shoulder's a bit sore but fine aside from that. What about you?"

"Just a few burns." She told him. "A bit of burn cream will 'eal that and I 'ave… other things to 'elp with zat."

'Veela… birds of fire.'

Clearly, Gabrielle had noticed his contemplation. "Yes," she told him. "it is probably exactly what you are ssinking."

"Sometimes I feel like you're using Legilimency on me." Harry muttered quietly enough for only her to hear as they exited the tent to await the champions' scores.

"I would never!" Gabrielle responded vehemently.

"But there is something," Harry pressed. "something related to… you know?"

"Me being Veela?" She asked bluntly, and Harry nodded reluctantly. "Yes," she admitted. "zere are a number of ssings, but we will talk about zose soon; we need to get ze scores for ze two of you."

Suddenly, some of the confidence that Fleur always seemed to carry flickered. "I did not do well." She said, clearly disappointed.

"What do you mean you did not do well?" Gabrielle asked exasperatedly. "Do you 'ave any idea 'ow difficult zat spell is for one meant to use it? Let alone one who isn't?"

"I still should not 'ave got burnt."

Harry snorted. "Delacour-"

"Fleur."

Harry paused. "What?"

"Call me Fleur." She told him. "It does not seem like my sister is getting rid of you anytime soon, so we may as well be civil with one anozer."

Harry grinned. "Fair enough, call me Harry then. Anyways, Fleur, at least you didn't get your shoulder ripped apart and thrown off of your broomstick."

"Zat won't count though." Gabrielle pointed out. "Zat was after ze task was done because you were naive enough to turn your back."

Harry flushed. "Well, in my defense, I thought the dragon keepers would do a better job at — you know — their job."

Fleur sniffed. "Zis would never 'ave 'appened at Beauxbatons."

"You lot probably wouldn't have been stupid enough to bring dragons." Harry muttered, to which Gabrielle giggled and even Fleur cracked a grudging smile.

"The scores are in!" Bagman cried out to the crowd with his voice magically magnified. The crowd fell silent at once. "Firstly, Mr. Cedric Diggory of Hogwarts!" Bagman bowed to the four other judges who raised their wands and fired their scores into the air. A seven from Crouch, an eight from Dumbledore, a six from Karkaroff, a seven from Maxime, and an eight from Bagman. "Cedric Diggory has earned 36 points!" The Hogwarts students erupted in approval and a moment later, Bagman was moving on.

"For Ms. Fleur Delacour!" He gestured in a wide, sweeping sort of way towards the four other judges. Crouch shot an eight into the air, Dumbledore a nine, Maxime a ten, Karkaroff a five and Bagman an eight. Gabrielle was suddenly speaking very fast in French, cursing, Harry assumed, but he didn't know enough French to be sure. "Ms. Fleur Delacour finishes with a score of 40 points!" Bagman told the crowd, prompting a loud celebration from the Beauxbatons students and polite applause from the Durmstrang and Hogwarts contingents.

"He is disgusting!" Gabrielle hissed with a glare towards Karkaroff. "I bet he will give Krum a ten and you less than seven." She told Harry.

"Next," said Bagman. "Mr. Viktor Krum from Durmstrang!" An eight from Crouch, an eight from Dumbledore, a ten from Karkaroff, a seven from Maxime and a seven from Bagman. "And equaling Fleur Delecour's impressive score, Viktor Krum has also earned forty points!" The Durmstrang students all got up and stomped loudly as they chanted in a language Harry did not know. Their rather zealous reaction drowned out pretty much all others. Harry suddenly found himself shaking, if only a bit, and Gabrielle's grip on his hand tightened, if only slightly.

"And last, but certainly not least, Mr. Harry Potter of Hogwarts!" Harry did not fail to notice the odd emphasis Bagman put on his name. Crouch fired up an eight, Dumbledore a nine, Karkaroff a five, Maxime an eight and Bagman a ten." Again, Gabrielle hissed at Karkaroff in a string of French that drew a raised eyebrow from her sister, who looked rather amusedly between Harry and her younger sister.

"So we have ourselves a three way tie!" Bagman said, beaming at the crowd. "Harry Potter, Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour have all earned 40 points! Cedric Diggory trails by only a few at 36!" Harry allowed the tension that he had not even realized he had been carrying to all rush out of him in that exact moment. The release was such that his legs nearly buckled. Gabrielle's arm slid around his waist to stabilize him and he just leaned his weight against her for a few long seconds, allowing himself to exalt in one, simple fact.

It was over.

His relief lasted all of thirty seconds, as his former best mate, Ron Weasley, chose that exact moment to shuffle awkwardly towards him. Harry tensed once more, and from beside him, Gabrielle let go of his hand and wrapped a rather protective arm around Harry's shoulders and sent Ron a glare that could have frozen a volcanic eruption. "What do you want?" She asked him coldly.

"I… uh…" he stuttered. "was wondering if I could talk to Harry for a minute?"

"Anyssing you'd like to tell 'im can be said in front of us." Gabrielle said coldly, gesturing between her and her sister. "Right, 'arry?"

Harry hesitated, weighing Ron's pleading look against Gabrielle's insistent tone and the events of the past three weeks.

In the end, it wasn't really that hard to make his decision. He nodded.

Ron faltered but just as a true Gryffindor would do, he set his jaw and stared Harry in the eye. "I fucked up." He said bluntly. "Harry… mate… I'm so sorry. I've been a blithering idiot since your name came out of that stupid cup. I… I never really thought you put your name in, at least I don't think I did. I was just… just…"

"Jealous." Harry finished quietly, remembering what Gabrielle had theorized on the matter all those weeks ago. Harry was sure she had her flaws, though he had yet to truly find any, but one thing she was extremely talented at was reading the emotions of those around her.

Ron looked at the ground. "Yeah," he muttered. "that." He hesitated, looking back up at Harry. "Can you… can you forgive me?"

Harry now felt Gabrielle tense beside him. He knew that she was not as forgiving as he was. His initial instinct was to tell Ron that of course he could forgive him, that in reality, there had been nothing to forgive.

Before the death of Sirius and the months that followed, Harry was sure that would have been the decision he came to. Now though, he met Ron's gaze with an intense variant of his own that made the gangly red-head flinch. He would not just forget everything. It was time to truly see who his friends were.

"Of course I forgive you." Harry said neutrally. He felt Gabrielle's arm tighten marginally and watched Ron's shoulders sag with relief but before either could react further he continued. "I don't forget though." His voice was not cold, but there was certainly a cool undertone there. "I forgive your actions, but I'm not going to forget about them. I won't hold them against you, but we're not going to be best mates either, at least not right away. You're going to have to earn that again."

Ron hung his head but nodded. "Better than I deserve." He muttered, stepping forward and offering Harry his hand a bit shakily. "To a new start then?"

Harry smiled; it was a touch forced, Ron did not notice. "To a new start."

An hour or so later, Harry found himself alone with Gabrielle in The Room of Requirement. Internally he was fuming, but he tried not to let it show. During the lunch that proceeded the first task, Harry had found out that unlike his other former friend, Hermione showed no signs of apologizing anytime soon. Logical as she was, she could not see why the task, which was always going to happen no matter what, had seemed to have convinced most of the school that Harry was innocent. Luckily, very few if any students were persuaded by her this time, but it hurt more than he cared to admit to have negative closure on the matter of Hermione. He was now quite certain that even if his friendship with Ron managed to reform, Harry would never call Hermione Granger a close friend again.

"You should stop worrying about 'er." Gabrielle told him gently after allowing him to self contemplate for a few minutes.

He sighed. "Probably, but it's really not that easy."

"I know it isn't, but frankly, she does not deserve your forgiveness."

Harry nodded mutely, closing his eyes and gathering his thoughts back onto the matter at hand. "I'll manage." He said after a moment's delay, and he was pretty sure that it was even true.

Gabrielle peered at him critically for several seconds before nodding, taking a seat beside him on the couch that the room had conjured up for them and turning to him with her hands folded in her lap. "Well," she sighed, "where do I even start?"

"The Veela bit, preferably." Harry said a bit awkwardly.

"Yes, I suppose zat would be a good place to start." She hesitated. "Am I right in assuming zat ze reason why you avoided me was because you thought any of your feelings could 'ave been because I was a Veela?"

Harry nodded. "I'm sorry," he began, "that was a stupid-"

"Hush." Gabrielle told him, holding up a hand for silence. "It was not an unreasonable assumption to make for somebody who knows nossing about Veela."

"I did do some research." Harry said a bit sheepishly.

Gabrielle just rolled her eyes. "And I am going to assume it was entirely un'elpful?"

Harry nodded. "Pretty much."

"Well, let's start wiss zat. What do you know about Veela?"

"Veela are — uh… I don't know if this term is offensive so tell me if it is but… half humans." Gabrielle nodded encouragingly, signifying she took no offence and prompting him to go onwards. "The best guess that wizards have is that veela are descended from some sort of ancient bird of fire. They're naturally gifted with any magic concerning fire, can conjure fire wandlessly, can sort of shape shift into an avian form when angered — though it's not known whether that is controllable or not, and they have a sort of allure that attracts men." He paused. "That's about it, but I have no idea if any of that is actually right."

"Most of it is." Gabrielle told him. "It's just missing an absurd number of details. I can not tell you from who or what we are descended from because even we do not know for sure, though we do 'ave more specific assumptions zan witches and wizards. Ze part about fire is true, but extremely understated." She paused, as if trying to deduce how best to explain something. "Take out your wand." She told him, prompting a rather confused looking Harry to follow. Gabrielle had hers out too and was holding it straight up. "On the count of three," she told him. "I want you to verbally cast the Lumos charm. Ready? One, two, three."

"Lumos." They both said as one. Gabrielle's wand fully lit faster than Harry's even sparked and his jaw fell open. "How did you-"

"Zese are ze two main differences between 'uman magic and Veela magic." She explained to him. "My magic is what we call soft magic. It is far less restrictive and flows far faster." She held up her other hand and a ball of light quickly took form in her palm. "It is also why I can do wandless magic; it flows freely through my body wissout restraint." She extinguished the light and gestured between her wand and Harry's. "You will notice zat your light is brighter." She told him. "Soft magic is faster acting and it flows faster, but it is less powerful on a spell to spell basis zan witches and wizards' magic."

"Does it make a big difference?"

Gabrielle shrugged. "Not in most areas. If we were to duel and our spells met in ze air, yours would overpower mine likely every time. It is not really a disadvantage though, since I can cast much faster, so it is actually quite even in duels and such. Ozer zan zat, soft magic is better for zings like 'ealing, enchanting and certain charms. Anyssing that requires a lot of control, subtlety and understanding of your magic. Certain transfigurations are much more difficult, but nossing that we would use on an everyday basis. Transfiguring somessing massive would take more energy for me zan it would for you, ssings like that."

"And the fire bit?"

Gabrielle's fingers sparked as if to answer Harry's question. "It is more complicated zan conjuring fire though." She told him. "Ze warmer ze environment, ze faster my magic will flow. Being in a very cold, very wet environment will slow down ze flow of my magic."

Harry nodded. "Makes sense why you live in France."

She giggled. "Yes, England is a bit cold. It's not really cold enough to slow down my magic as much as ze wet does, but it's not enough to cause more zan a tiny effect." She shrugged. "If I were to go to ze bottom of ze lake or somessing…" she trailed off.

"Your magic wouldn't work great?"

"Non."

"So, what can you do with wandless magic?" He asked her, suddenly intensely interested.

She shrugged. "Plenty of ssings. Transfiguration is extremely difficult and I 'ave never managed more zan first or second year transfigurations, but I can do plenty of charms wissout a wand." She got a rather mischievous expression as she unfolded her hand and faced it palm up. Harry's wand shot from his loose fingered grip and smacked into Gabrielle's open hand. She giggled once more at the look of incredulity that marred Harry's face before tossing it back to him. "It is very tiring though." She told him. "Not somessing as simple as zat, but if I do a lot of it, it drains me very fast."

A sudden thought had crossed his mind and he paused for a second before hesitantly asking it. "Is-is it possible for a witch or wizard to learn wandless magic?"

Gabrielle paused. "I ssink so." She told him. "Zere are stories from 'istory of witches and wizards doing it." She shrugged. "I do not ssink any witch or wizard in the UK can do it right now. There just isn't anybody to teach of any of you since very few witches or wizards can do it." Harry frowned, trying to best figure out how to ask his next question or if he should ask it at all. Luckily for him, he didn't have to. "You want me to try and teach you?" She asked him, a fond, exasperated half smile crossing her angelic face.

"How do you do that?" He asked with a roll of his eyes.

"We will get to zat soon." She assured him. "I can try if you would really like." She said. "Not now though. We need to work more on your occlumency before we play around wiss wandless magic. It will probably 'elp you do it for one ssing, and for anozer, it will be a lot more useful to you."

"I'm guessing it'll be devilishly difficult?"

"Zat is if you can do it." She told him bluntly. That was another thing about Gabrielle. She was realistic and honest.

Harry scratched his head, trying to figure out how best to word his next question. All of this was very interesting but none of it really got to the crux of the issue. "And… it had no effect on my emotions?"

"No." Gabrielle answered bluntly.

"Could you have affected them?"

She hesitated. "Probably." She answered.

"The allure?"

"Among ozer ssings, yes."

"Explain them to me?"

She sighed. "Ze allure is pretty much exactly what it sounds like." She paused. "You actually might 'ave noticed it more from my sister zan from me?"

He shrugged. "I guess so."

"You 'ave to understand zat zere is no such ssing as a part Veela. You are eizer Veela or you are not. I was lucky enough to get ze Veela gene, my sister was not." Harry winced. He could only imagine how unpleasant that would have been for Fleur. "She still 'as Veela blood so a tiny bit of ze Veela magic still exists wissin 'er. 'er magic is not exactly soft magic, but it's closer to it. Anyways, Fleur 'as a much weaker version of ze allure but ze difference is, a true Veela like me, maman and ozers can control it, Fleur cannot — not really. She is getting better but she will never be able to suppress it completely."

Harry winced again. That sounded even more depressing. Being gawked at for something you could not control. It sounded awfully familiar and suddenly, he realized how much he and the eldest Delacour sister had in common. Gabrielle was gawked at too for certain, but at least it was for her natural beauty — at least he thought. "People gawk at you too, though." He said carefully.

"All Veela 'ave a sort of natural pull along with zeir beauty." She responded. "It is not ze allure, but it just… draws people's attention." She frowned. "It is also why I am razer tall for a woman, Fleur too. Veela are genetically made to draw attention." Harry nodded. It made sense.

"So you haven't been using the allure on me." He summarized. "But what are these… other things?"

"Veela are good wiss emotions." She told him. "It's not Legilimency, not really, but Veela are what witches and wizards call empaths. We can feel ze vague emotions of zose around us and if I touch a person, I can tell a lot more about zeir emotions and intent." She looked a bit sheepish. "Zat one is not overly common. It is a rare ability, even among Veela."

"So if you wanted to," Harry deduced. "you could have used your knowledge about my emotions to manipulate me." She nodded slowly. "But you never did?"

"Of course not!" She did not sound angry, just vehement.

Harry sighed. "I guess I owe you an apology then." He told her. "It's not that I ever thought you would do anything like that… just…"

"Shh." She told him, leaning forward and shocking Harry by softly touching her lips to his again. It was not really a kiss, just a soft peck to shut him up. It worked. "I should not 'ave done zat wissout your permission." She reflected before smirking coyly at his dumbstruck expression. "Though I am taking it you 'ave no objections?" Vaguely, he shook his head and Gabrielle laughed that melodic laugh that Harry enjoyed hearing so much.

"Zere is somessing else," she told him, and for the first time in this conversation, perhaps the first time in Harry's memory of her, Gabrielle's voice wavered.

"Go on?"

"I need you to promise me zat you will let me explain fully and zat you will not interrupt at any point?" Vaguely, Harry noted how much that sentence sounded like something his headmaster would say.

"I promise."

She sighed, reaching out for his hand as she made eye contact with him. "Zere is a rare phenomenon among Veela called a bond." She began, her voice not sounding quite as smooth nor as confident as it usually did. Harry nodded, squeezing her hand encouragingly and earning himself a weak smile in return. "It is a sort of romantic link between two people, zeir emotions and zeir magic."

And just like that, Harry pieced it together. "The two of us?" He whispered, Gabrielle shushed him but nodded.

"Yes, 'arry, ze two of us. I started feeling emotions zat were not mine over ze summer 'olidays. A bit of fear, but mostly grief, self 'atred and depression." Harry's eyes darkened, if only marginally. "I obviously understand why now, but at ze time, I did not quite realize what was going on until I finally pieced it togezer." Suddenly, she was holding both of his hands and had brought them up to her chest, something that was prompting a great battle between Harry and the blush that wanted to surface all over his face.

"This isn't something like… I don't know — we have to marry or you're never going to find love or anything, right?"

Gabrielle frowned. "Non, zat would be 'orrible." She told him. "A bond is simply when a Veela's magic finds anozer who it ssinks is most compatible to ze Veela." She sighed. "It is rarely, if ever wrong, but it usually scares a lot of wizards off." She paused, suddenly looking nervous. "I did not want to tell you." She admitted. "I did not want you to ssink- to ssink-"

"To think that you were only talking to me and entertaining my presence because your magic was forcing you to or something?" Gabrielle nodded. Harry squeezed both of her hands and tried his best to emulate the blazing look that had been present in her eyes at the conclusion of the first task. "Gabrielle, why in Merlin's name would I think that? You've helped me so much this year already." He paused. "Just tell me honestly that this bond has not and will not change anything about my emotions?"

"It will not." She told him with obvious sincerity in her eyes. "It 'as not and will never."

He smiled a very nervous but very obvious smile. "Well then, the way I see it, that was a pretty dumb thing to worry about." She made to speak but this time, it was Harry's turn to shush her. "It was you helping me this summer, wasn't it? I felt things that I definitely shouldn't have been feeling at the time." Hesitantly, she nodded. Harry just beamed at her with a look in his eyes that Gabrielle had never seen before. "You were a lifesaver." He said bluntly. "I have no idea what I would have done without those feelings back then and throughout this year…" he shook his head. "Gabrielle, the only person who should be apologizing is me."

"You?"

"You could have any bloody wizard on planet Earth just by smiling at him and this damned bond persuaded you to go for me?" Both of them laughed, even though Gabrielle didn't seem to realize that he was being more serious than she had picked up on.

"I would not 'ave it any ozer way." She told him after a minute or so.

Harry hesitated. "Well, Gryffindor courage help me, I suppose there's nothing more for it. Gabrielle, if you'd have me, I'd be the luckiest bloke on the British isles to be with you."

Authors Endnote:

This is hands down the most nervous I have been about a chapter in this story, maybe ever. It is a moment I know a lot of you have been waiting for and I really hope I didn't make it too corny or muck it up in some other way.

I also just want to point out that I know the scores are not the exact same as in canon. Frankly, I never understood how the hell Cedric did as well as he did and I always thought Fleur deserved to do better. I mean — yeah, her dress lit on fire, but she used hands down the most impressive magic out of any of the champions.

Also, personally, I think Cedric being burnt all over and Krum causing the eggs to get destroyed are way bigger screw ups than Fleur's dress lighting on fire. Personally, I was never that impressed with Krum's run since he just used a pretty basic curse, but Karkaroff giving him the ten is what saved his score.

One more chapter and then the Yule Ball… shoot me now.

Also, I want to give a shoutout to DarknessEnthroned and his story "A Cadmean Victory." It is one of my favourite stories on the site and is where the whole concept of "soft magic" comes from.

Please read and review.