My original inspiration for writing this fic came to me while reading Desperate Measures by vvc. It's a really fantastic (if quite a bit different than I expected) Veela fic that is also a Harry x Draco pairing.

Fanfiction . net / s / 4228464 / 1 /

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Also - since it seems to be a common concern by anyone who comes here to read the fic, I'll nip a few concerns in the bud right here -

1. This fic has no sub/dom roles in it.

2. This fic has no mpreg.

3. This fic does not have one of those moments where they suddenly realize they're destined mates, and all of a sudden go totally out of character and jump into bed with each other.

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Title: When Extended Family is Discovered

Rating: T

Keywords: slash, pre-slash, veela, drarry, creature!Harry, veela!Harry, mild Ron!bashing, AU

Spoilers: Story starts at the very end of Chamber, loosely follows Prisoner of Azkaban, get's more and more AU as it goes. Horcruxes exist – all cannon still exists here, although I'm sliding in a teeny bit into movie-cannon with Harry being able to sense the horcruxes when near them. Of course, there's a bunch of AU stuff, stuffed in there to mix things up a bit.

Summary: Slow-paced Veela-fic HPDM. Summer after second-year Harry meets his mother's real father, and it turns out that he's not a muggle at all. With getting to know a whole branch of family he didn't know existed, and keeping his new discoveries a secret, could his world possibly get anymore turned on it's head? How about if Draco Malfoy started acting rather odd, as well?

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Author's Note: The story starts when Harry is 12, but works its way through the summer and Harry's 3rd year fairly quickly. Drarry romance doesn't start until around page 300-ish, so don't expect that for a good long while!

Each chapter is between 25 – 35 pages long, so these are very long chapters.

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Chapter 1 – When Worlds Get Turned Upside-Down

Harry woke feeling tired, and very very sore. He blinked owlishly up at the canopy of his bed for several minutes, just trying to sort through his muddled thoughts. He shifted in bed and winced at the throb of discomfort he felt in his arm. His opposite hand moved up and he ran his fingers gently over his newest disfiguring scar.

The place where the basilisk's fang had pierced his arm now featured a perfectly round mark of raised, reddened, and slightly lumpy scar tissue. He knew that it could have been a lot worse, and he couldn't honestly expect for there to be nothing left behind at all – even with Fawkes' tears – still, he hadn't really expected it to still hurt.

Although, his arm was hardly the only place that ached. He ached all over. All of the running and dodging, and assorted excess of physical exertion that had been necessary while fighting an enormous basilisk... well, he had come out fairly good, all things considered. A few bruises, he could manage. The emotional scars were still a bit touchy though. The similarities between he and Tom Riddle still disturbed him, tremendously. When he'd asked Dumbledore why he thought Harry could speak to snakes, the headmaster had suggested that Voldemort had transferred some of his power to Harry when he tried to kill him as a baby.

That thought was... disturbing. Very disturbing. And it gave him a headache, so he generally tried not to think about it at all.

He didn't need a headache – or emotional turmoil – in addition to the aches and pains associated with his recovery from the disaster in the Chamber.

Not that his aches and pains mattered. It was only a dull ache, and he had suffered with dull aches for years. The Dursley's had often caused various injuries to him, and nearly never allowed him to seek any legitimate medical treatment. Even for the bad ones, like all those times he shoulder or elbow had been dislocated because Uncle Vernon had yanked on him too roughly.

Thinking about the Dursley's brought on a wave of despair, knowing that he would be returning to them in only a few days. He didn't want to go back. No matter how stressful his year had been – what with the Chamber being opened, and his ability to speak to snakes revealed and feared by the population as a whole – it was still a thousand times better than the idea of going back to the Dursley's.

Harry dwelled on that thought for the majority of the rest of the day. Ron, Ginny, the Twins, and Percy were all, already gone. Their parents had taken them all home early the previous night. Exams were done, so there really was no reason not to.

Harry yearned desperately for a family that would worry about him when something awful happened to him. A family that would be so distraught about his disappearance, or possible death, that they would drop everything and rush to the school to make sure he was found, or that he was alright. If the Dursley's had even been notified that he was in danger or possibly hurt, they would be more likely to rejoice and start wishing and hoping for his demise, than to actually worry or come to his aid.

The Dursley's hated him. He knew that. It was a fact – a reality of his world. It wouldn't change. He'd given up, years ago, on any hope of ever changing their mind, just like he'd outgrown the childish fantasies that a distant relative would pop up out of no where to rescue him from them. One that might actually love him, unlike his miserably relatives and their undying loathing of his very existence.

It was with this in mind that Harry found himself nervously standing in front of the Gargoyle to the headmaster's office again, that evening.

What followed didn't take all that long, and progressed about as well as he'd expected it too. Like the year before, Harry asked Headmaster Dumbledore if there was any way for him to stay at Hogwarts over the summer holidays, instead of going back to his relatives. And just like the year prior, Dumbledore once again, refused his request.

It was imperative that Harry return to the Dursley's, he had said. The Dursley's home was protected by powerful wards that were tied to Harry's blood; his mother's sacrifice; and his only living biological relations: Petunia Dursley, and her son Dudley.

If Harry didn't go back, the wards would begin to deteriorate, and if they ever fell, then Harry could never return there again, and it was a safety that Harry would likely need someday.

Dumbledore had been gentle and calmly reassuring while being firm and insistent that he was right, and Harry should realize that too – after all, if the wards fell, it wasn't just Harry who would be vulnerable, but also his family, and Harry wouldn't want to be responsible for risking the lives of someone else, would he?

Harry had gone cold and mostly unresponsive, besides small mumbled noises and nods of his head, less than halfway through the whole conversion, and by the end, he was keeping his expression as solid as stone, so as to not openly show just how upset he felt.

Honestly? He was to the point where he didn't give a damn if the Dursley's were in danger if he up and vanished, and if the wards fell, then he would never have to go back. He saw that as a good thing.

Sure, he didn't have anywhere else to go... but maybe the Weasley's would take him in for a month, or maybe he could even rent a room at the Leaky Cauldron or something.

Something.

Anything was better than going back to the place where he was loathed more than a bug and treated like the Dursley's personal servant.

He left the Headmaster's office torn between fuming, and feeling utterly dejected and hopeless. But he saw no other choice. He had to go back.

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Harry watched as Hermione waved goodbye and raced down the platform towards here happily smiling parents. His eyes lingered on innumerable other happy faces in the throngs of people greeting their children with hugs and smiles. Even the Malfoys looked upon their stuck-up prat of a son with warmth in their eyes, even if they were too dignified to do anything like hug in a public place like Kings Cross station.

With a miserable sigh of defeat Harry searched out and located the Dursley's, who looked as if they were about to go into apoplectic shock if they had to remain among these freaks for one more minute.

The car ride back to Little Whinging was silent with a thickly heavy atmosphere. Shortly before arriving at Privet Drive, Uncle Vernon informed Harry that Aunt Marge would be visiting at the end of July. Harry felt his very veins freeze with dread at the prospect of spending anytime with Aunt Marge at all.

Upon arriving at the house, Harry's trunk and all of his things, including his wand, were promptly taken from him and locked in the cupboard under the stairs. Harry was then sent to his room with Hedwig's cage and told to pretend he didn't exist until morning.

The weekend passed as miserably as he ever expected at the Dursley home. He'd been woken by his aunts angry and impatient shrieking, and then been expected to fix breakfast for the lot of them, and then be grateful for the few, cold, left overs. He'd been worked to the brink of heat exhaustion in the yard tending to his Aunt Petunia's neglected garden, and cleaning out the shed.

Monday morning started much the same – the advantage now, however, was that it was a weekday, and as soon as Uncle Vernon was done with his breakfast, he left for work. Dudley was equally uninterested in spending the summer day indoors, and left to go visit one of his local minions – which one, Harry didn't know or care, so long as he didn't have to interact – or run away from – them, he was fine.

His Aunt Petunia set him to chores around the house rather quickly and Harry silently obeyed. She had him washing the windows some hours later. His stomach was growling something fierce and he was trying his best to ignore the unpleasant sensation of being hungry. He'd gotten used to it in his younger years, but ten months at Hogwarts with regular, hearty meals, had increased the size of his stomach and gotten him out of the habit of eating next to nothing, and hording food.

He knew the next few weeks would be the worst, until he could get somewhat accustomed to his next-to-nothing diet again. Ron had promised the send food though... hopefully something would come soon.

Movement outside caught his attention and he slowed in his circular cleaning motions to observe a rather curious-looking older gentleman walking down Privet Drive and coming to a stop in front of the Dursley's house.

He was wearing a rather fine looking suit, although, it looked about a decade or two out of style. It was dark brown tweed, with a jacket and a matching vest beneath that, featuring tiny pearl buttons lining down the center. He was also wearing a bow tie, in dark green, over a white collared shirt. The man had shining auburn-colored hair, worn long and tied back into a low ponytail. He was also what one would probably consider very handsome and stately in his appearance.

Harry was about to dismiss the man and go back to his work when his breath suddenly caught in his chest. The man puled out a wand.

He glanced around at the neighbors cautiously before making several swishing gestures and apparently muttering quietly under his breath. Nothing seemed to have happened, although the man's eyes were focused on something seemingly invisible right in front of him, and he looked quite intent upon whatever he was seeing. Then he nodded his head, made another swish of his wand, as if brushing something away, and began to walk down the short path to the Dursley's front door.

Harry stood back from the window feeling a weird mix between wariness and excitement. He quickly and quietly made his way towards the door to the sitting room, that connected to the entry hall and waited. The bell rang and Harry was torn between answering the door and facing his aunt's wrath, or just letting her get it.

His decision was made for him when Aunt Petunia bustled into the hall from the kitchen, muttering beneath her breath. She pulled the door open and Harry leaned as close to the half-open door as he could without risking being noticed.

"Good morning, Petunia," A deep voice spoke lightly.

Harry heard as his aunt Petunia sucked in a sharp breath of shock, followed almost instantly with the words, "YOU!"

"Ah, how nice to see you remember me," the man replied, and Harry could hear the amusement in his voice.

"You're supposed to be dead!" she shrieked.

"Am I now?" the man asked contemptuously. "And what would make you think that?"

"That... that, freak headmaster, said so!" she exclaimed, but her voice, starting out high and frantic, but taking an instant dip lower after the word 'freak' was uttered and then coming out as an accusing hiss. "He said you were dead! I told him, I didn't want the boy! I told him! I told the man to give him to you! But he said you were dead!"

"Is that so?" the man replied in slow, clipped words. His voice was even deeper now, and colder. The amusement was completely gone, and replaced with something that sent a cold shiver down Harry's spine. His heart was racing now, he had no idea what the meaning of this was, but there was no doubt at all it was about him. "Well then it would appear that Dumbledore lied to the both of us. I am here for Harry. Where is he?"

There was a silent pause followed by his Aunt Petunia making some sort of frustrated noise before gesturing the man inside and closing the door. "Boy!" she yelled out a moment later and Harry jumped before rushing forward and pulling the sitting room door all the way open.

His aunt twisted up a disgusted looking grimace as she saw him, but that was really nothing new. She then looked over at the man, looking equally disgusted to have him in her preciously perfect home.

"Does this mean you're taking him away?" she asked sharply.

"If he'll have me. I intend to make the offer," the man said, not bothering to look at Petunia, as his eyes were locked instead on Harry's.

"I don't give a damn if he'll have you or not. If you're alive then he's your responsibility. We want nothing to do with his freakishness! With either of your freakishness!" she spat angrily.

The man turned his head and sneered at her, quailing her indignation slightly – only slightly. She huffed and turned to storm back to the kitchen, not bothering to say anything else.

The man turned his gaze back to Harry as soon as she was gone and his face instantly softened. Harry's mind was in a whirlwind of shock and denial. The hope was bursting to come out, but he was terrified to let it. He couldn't stand to let himself hope, only to have it squashed, yet again. And he still had no idea what was going on. He needed more information.

"Who... who are you?" Harry asked hesitantly. The man's eyes softened even further, and his expression was one of sadness mixed with warmth. It was an expression Harry didn't often have aimed at him. Harry was startled suddenly to notice the man's shining green eyes. They were... very familiar.

"My name is Lucas Conseil... and I am your grandfather."

Harry gaped for several beats before snapping his mouth shut and swallowing thickly. "But... but how is that possible? I thought..." Harry turned his head to look back towards the kitchen door, feeling utterly bewildered.

"It's a lot to explain and it will likely take us a while to cover everything important. Perhaps we could find somewhere to sit?"

Harry nodded dumbly and led the man back into the sitting room. The two sat down, diagonally from each other, Harry on the edge of the couch, and Lucas on an armchair.

Lucas looked thoughtful for a moment before looking back up and meeting Harry's eyes. "Your mother, Lily, and your Aunt Petunia, are only half-sisters. They share the same mother, however, they do not have the same fathers."

Harry's eyes widened with a sense of shock mingled with hesitant hope. "Half?" Harry whispered.

"Yes." Lucas cleared his throat looking a bit uncomfortable for a moment before resuming. "Your Grandmother, Rosie Evans, was 19 years old when she became pregnant with her first child, Petunia. Her husband, Paul, was a member of the Royal Army, and shortly after Petunia was born, he was called to Germany to serve in some capacity there for about a year and a half with only a few scattered visits home. During that time, Rosie moved back in with her mother in London so that she would have some help with her infant daughter.

"It was during that time, in 1959, that I was working in London as a diplomatic representative between the Veela Nation, the French Ministry, and the British Ministry of Magic. I was placed in a flat in Muggle London which just happened to be in the same building as Rosie and her mother. I will admit that before that time, I had never really had the opportunity to interact with muggles much, and I was rather curious. I met Rosie while there. She was very kind, but also obviously quite sad. I was rather young myself at the time, and I do not claim to have had the best of judgement. I will not make excuses however. I knew she was married, and yet that did not stay my hand when I seduced her.

"A month before my work in London ended, her husband came back, and she told me that she couldn't see me any longer. She would remain faithful to her husband, and should have never strayed in the first place. I knew I caused her a great deal of guilt, and I did despise myself for a very long time for that. When I left, she asked that I never again contact her, and I would have kept my word except for one thing. Namely, if she had become pregnant – which she did.

"I found out by my mother, actually," Lucas laughed and shrugged. "My family has a very old, and very powerfully enchanted self-updating family book. There are those that refuse to acknowledge children sired out of wedlock, but my family has never followed such practices, so the spells upon our family book added Lily's name as soon as she was born. Even so, we did not check the book regularly, so I did not learn of Lily's existence until she was four. That was when my mother checked the book and had herself a small heart attack before coming to screech my head off for nearly an hour before she calmed down enough to yell at me in a corheirant enough fashion for me to finally figure out what had happened."

"She must have been awfully angry. Was it because you had a child with a muggle, or just because you weren't married?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Oh she didn't care if it was a muggle – not really. She didn't even care that we weren't married – although she was quite displeased when I informed her that Rosie had been married during our tryst. No, she was mad because I had allowed a child of my family to go unacknowledged by the line for so many years. Family is of great importance to us, after all.

"So I traveled back to England and approached Rosie about our daughter. She was... well, not pleased to see me. Her husband was under the impression that the child was his, and Rosie wanted to keep it that way. She didn't want to risk her happy marriage over a mistake she made when she was young and miserable. I could understand her desires, but I still wanted to know my daughter. Rosie refused. I was persistent, and she finally agreed to send me regular information on Lily. Pictures, and letters detailing her life and her school work.

"I also informed Rosie then, about my magical heritage, which I had kept hidden from her when we first had our little affair. She was shocked to say the least, but I needed to tell her so that she would be better prepared should Lily show signs of being magical, and I told her that I would come to visit again during the spring after Lily had turned eleven."

Lucas paused at this point for a moment, as if he were considering how to proceed next. Harry took the moment to force himself to breath.

"There is something else you need to know Harry... I am not technically a wizard."

Harry frowned. "Wait... huh? But I saw you use a wand out on the walk."

Lucas rose his brows slightly and grinned. "Saw that, did you?" he chuckled. "Yes, well, I'm still perfectly capable of performing wizard's magic, and was taught in it as a boy, however, both the British and French magical ministries are of the opinion that I am a 'Being' and not a 'Wizard' because I am a Veela."

"What's a Veela?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Veela are a race of semi-human magical beings. We are one of the highest level of the Nymph races with intelligence and sentience on an equal level with humans, although there are those that would disagree out of sheer pig-headedness and bigotry," he said with a mild sneer. "Veela are most commonly known among wizard-kind for their unnatural beauty, and the Allure, a magical trait that all Veela develop around puberty. There is a lot of misunderstanding and just plain misinformation in regards to Veela as a species – there are even some that believe there are no male Veela at all; that Veela are a race of magically beautiful women out to lure away husbands with the offer of sexual favors, only to then devour them instead." He snorted and rolled his eyes. "How they expect a species of only females to breed is beyond me."

Harry's eyes were wide as galleons but the corner of his mouth turned up slightly in amusement.

"You must understand one thing about Veela," Lucas continued, "we are shifters. We have a humanoid form, and in modern day it has become standard practice to exist primarily in our humanoid form, however we also have an avian form."

"Avian?" Harry echoed the word, not entirely sure what it meant. He was fairly sure it had something to do with birds, but that didn't quite make sense.

"Yes. Veela are partially Accipitriformes – our avian forms are still humanoid, however our skeletal structure shifts quite drastically in the transformations, and our head specifically transform a great deal. Talons, feathers, beaks... it's quite drastic, I suppose, but from my point of view, it can also be quite beautiful... however I haven't encountered many wizards who would agree," he chuckled and shrugged. "I can demonstrate it for you at a later time, however I'm not entirely comfortable doing it in a muggle neighborhood. I hope you understand."

Harry nodded mutely, not even knowing what to think about all that.

"Veela are compatible with magical humans, and we have cross-bred for thousands of years. My fraternal grandfather was a pureblood wizard, however the rest of my family are all mostly Veela – however I would hardly claim that my entire line is made up entirely of Veela because I know for a fact that as one continues to work their way up my family tree, they would encounter numerous witches and wizards. We have interbred for generations.

"The thing is that I had never heard of a veela being able to impregnate a muggle before, which I admit is one of the reasons that I never would have worried about your grandmother becoming pregnant. I had believed it to be impossible. My guess would actually be that she was a squib. I suspected at one point that she might have been an untrained which, but when I did a test, it came up negative." Lucas paused and shrugged again.

"Well, I suppose I should move on with my story. You see, it's important to realize that if Lily did end up being magical, she would likely also have inherited my Veela heritage, and not just my magic. As I suspected, I was right. This was why I was so adament with Rosie that she allow me to meet and speak with Lily, the summer before she left for Hogwarts. However Rosie refused me again. She insisted that there was no guarantee that she would show any signs of being Veela at all. Muggleborn was a known phenomenon and she could convince her husband that Lily was simply a muggleborn witch and that was simple. However, Lily being a Veela could not be explained such a way, and would only prove for a fact that Rosie had been unfaithful.

"I conceded for the time, but made plans to contact Lily on my own before she turned fourteen because it would be imperative that she know of her heritage before she began to experience the more significant changes. She would need to be prepared, and no matter how guilty I felt towards Rosie's situation with her husband, I would not leave my daughter without proper preparation for such an important time in her life."

Harry frowned in confusion now. "What changes?" he asked curiously.

"Well, basically, its puberty. It is a time of magical maturation for Veela, and it is when the Allure first begins to develop."

"What's the Allure?"

Lucas sighed and ran a hair over his auburn-colored hair. Harry noticed that it was actually graying a bit by the man's ears, but mostly it was still quite brightly red. Harry recognized that red from the photos of his mum in the photo album Hagrid had put together for him the previous year.

Lucas cleared his throat and glanced at Harry hesitantly. "You're... twelve?"

"I turn thirteen next month," Harry said.

"Yes, well, you're certainly old enough. You've lived in a dorm with other boys, so no doubt you've heard all sorts of stories. Veela have a natural ability to attract people to them with a power called the Allure. It... it makes people sexually aroused, and strongly attracted to you, when it is active. They will totally and utterly submit themselves to your whims at the hope of even the slightest attention from you. Some people become blubbering fools, desperate for the slightest sign that they have pleased you. I will admit that in the days of old, Veela used the skill to lure in victims and then... eat them. So, I suppose the myths are not all that unfounded, it's just that it has been many thousands of years since it was a common occurrence for Veela to eat humans. We are simply too alike. It's unnerving to consider such an act." Lucas shuddered slightly before giving Harry a hesitant glance.

Harry was looking utterly stunned. He swallowed and began to speak, but his voice cracked, so he cleared it before trying again. "So... Veela have a power to make people attracted to them, and it starts up at puberty?"

"Around the age of fifteen or sixteen, yes," Lucas said with a nod. "Sometimes even fourteen, but it's uncommon. It is important that a young Veela be prepared and get proper training so that they can control the Allure and turn it off. Once it starts to manifest, it's on by default. This can lead to some very troublesome situations, and has led to the sexual assault on young Veela girls by wizards and the sort. Of course, the wizard governments don't acknowledge the assault. They are far more quick to blame the victim, insisting that it was the Veela's fault for being so alluring, and forcing the wizard to rape them. It's disgusting and has been an ongoing source of contention between the Veela Nation and the wizarding governments for centuries."

Harry nodded numbly, not entirely sure what to make of the whole thing, but if the girls couldn't control it, they could hardly be blamed. And to be raped... he shuddered. How awful.

Lucas sighed again. "Well, back to the story... when Lily got her Hogwarts acceptance letter, Rosie pretended to be surprised. Paul was actually thrilled with the discovery of the magical world, although apparently Lily wasn't very surprised at all. Some years earlier she had made friends with a boy who lived near them that was a halfblood. He had witnessed her performing accidental magic at some point and had told her she was a witch.

"It all looked as if it were going to go smoothly, however they came to the realization that they couldn't quite afford the fees to send Lily to Hogwarts. When Rosie wrote to me and informed me that Paul did not think he could manage the cost, I wrote back instantly and insisted that I pay for half. Rosie agreed, only so long as I made the whole thing appear to be a scholarship of some sort. Which I did.

"I continued to get reports on Lily as she grew up. I got copies of her grades, and Rosie sent me photos and letters. They meant a great deal to me, and really only made my desire to meet my daughter that much stronger. The spring before Lily's forth year was the first time I wrote her a letter, directly. It was before she returned home for the summer holidays so she would have some time to process everything before facing her parents again. It was after that that we began regular correspondences.

"Lily was... torn. She loved Paul Evans very much. He had been a good father to her, and she did not want to hurt him. She did not tell him about me, and I was willing to accept that. Lily had also spent a great many years identifying herself as a Muggleborn Witch, and suddenly that self-image was turned on its head as she discovered that she was not only not a muggleborn, but that she was basically half-Veela. A magical 'creature'.

"She had been quite proud that she, as a 'muggleborn' was one of the most powerful witches in the school. Undeniably the most magically powerful in her year. She thought it was a shining beacon against the bigotry of some of her peers. Proof that their rhedoric about muggleborns being weaker, was false. But that was suddenly taken from her, and it caused her a bit of an identity crisis, I fear.

"I'm not sure how many people she ever confided the truth of her heritage in, but I suspect it was next to no one. I know that she did tell James... but I suspect that she didn't reveal it to him until after he had proposed. I suspect the only reason she did it then was because she wanted to make sure he knew what he was getting into, but also to make sure that he well and truly wanted her for her, and not for any lingering effects of her Allure that she could not always control."

Lucas paused for a moment and Harry let out a long, slow breath, not having realized that he was basically holding his breath for great long spans while Lucas spoke.

His mother was a Veela. She wasn't muggleborn at all.

Harry had never known much about his mother. It seemed that so many people had comments to make on his father, but next to no one ever commented on his mother. The most he knew was that she was muggleborn, and that he had her eyes. Now he knew that she wasn't muggleborn at all. But Veela. Which meant...

"Wait..." Harry said suddenly, holding up his hand, "if my mum was half-veela, then that makes me..."

"A quarter-veela. Basically yes."

Harry blanced with a sudden realization. "Does this mean I'll have that allure-thing too?"

"It is most likely, yes," Lucas said, nodding his head.

"And the bird-thing? Could my mum do that?"

"It takes training to perform the transformation, and as far as I know, your mother never attempted it. I offered to hire her a tutor for the transformation, but she never expressed any interest in learning it. She had a great deal of difficulty mastering her Allure, and after that, I believe she wanted to refocus on her school training, and so, did not move onto mastering her other Veela talents. She did do some of the training for controlling her fire, but only as much was necessary to make sure she didn't start lobbing fire around when she lost her temper," he chuckled.

"Wait - fire? What's that mean?"

"Ah, another trait that Veela are well known for is their control of fire. Accidentally setting things on fire is one of the most common sorts of accidental magic performed by young Veela. Your mother, for example, nearly burned down her primary school when she was seven. Rosie was horribly distraught," he said although the smirk on his face, and the amusement in his eyes, belied any attempt to fake sympathy.

"But I never set anything on..." Harry began, but trailed off as he frowned and looked down at his hands in his lap. He reached over and pulled the bottom corner of his overly-baggy second-hand shirt up, revealing the right side of his stomach where he had a very old burn scar. "Dudley told me once that I got this scar after I set the cupboard on fire, but I don't remember ever setting anything on fire."

"Hmm..." Lucas hummed while frowning deeply. "I think I would very much like to ask Petunia about that in a bit. But first, let us continue my story. During the tail-end of Lily's sixth year at Hogwarts, Rosie and Paul were involved in a car accident and both of them died. Lily was distraught, for obvious reasons, and for that one summer, she actually stayed with me and my family, in our home in France. It was the single longest period of time I got to spend with my daughter and I still treasure the memories from that time, no matter how many times she and I ended up quarreling."

"You quarreled?"

"We disagreed on a few things that she was quite passionate about," Lucas admitted with a defeated sigh. "I fear I drove her away, but I truly only wished to keep her safe. She, however, insisted that she did not need to be kept safe, and it was her life to live."

"What did you want?" Harry asked.

"I wanted her to leave England after her seventh year and come back and live with us in France."

"France," Harry whispered, realizing for the first time that this must be where his grandfather was from, and then instantly feeling stupid for not having registered it sooner since the man had said he was sent to Britain while working for the French Ministry. Just the same, he would never have guessed it, because Lucas didn't have even the faintest hint of a French accent.

"Yes. I believed that England was growing far too dangerous a place, especially for someone who was officially known as a muggleborn. She was a prime target for Voldemort's forces, even if she hadn't been jumping up and down to join Dumbledore's little private army. I wanted her safe and far, far away, from the Death Eaters. She, however, refused to 'run away and hide'. She wanted to stay and fight for 'what was right'. She was never one to give up on her convictions, and she firmly believed in the fight and refused to abandoned her home country.

"I fear I angered her greatly in the end, and our communication was strained afterwards. I still paid for her final year at Hogwarts – in full, this time, since her parents had died, and I refused to allow her to use any of their estate for something that was my responsibility as her parent. And I attended her graduation, though few knew exactly who I was to her.

"Petunia found out about me when she had to go through her mother's things after the death. She found all of the letters between Rosie and I – apparently she'd kept them all in a box that she'd hidden in her closet. It was just one more reason for Petunia to rage against her sister, of course. Now she wasn't just the spontaneous freak occurrence, but the result of their mother's illicit affair with a monster. I suppose it helped to sooth Petunia's fears that she might be somehow contaminated by our unnaturalness simply by the fact that her sister had turned out a witch. I only met with Petunia a few times, but none of them were pleasant in the least. I swear to you Harry, if I had known that you'd been left with them, I would have been here before you even turned two. I really, truly, had no idea where you were placed."

Harry blinked, startled by the sudden shift from the story, to this impassioned apology. He swallowed and took a moment to pull together the swirl of confused emotions and thoughts in his head.

"Why didn't you come for me sooner?" he whispered.

Lucas sighed heavily and leaned back in his armchair. "My relationship with Lily grew ever more strained over the next few years after her graduation. She became more and more involved with Dumbledore's little band of lunatics and I wanted to protect her from his manipulations. But she married James, and there was never any chance of him giving up Britain, or the fight against Voldemort. They were the reason his parents had died, after all. They hadn't been a target, specifically; more like collateral damage, but their death had still be the fault of the Death Eaters during some sort of a raid, and James wanted revenge. There was, of course, also the argument that what they were doing was the right thing to do, and that the monster needed to be destroyed. While I would never disagree with the fact that the man was a lunatic, and posed a very real threat, I didn't think that there was anything that warranted them taking the law into their own hands, and there was especially no reason for the pair of them to continue in their efforts once Lily became pregnant.

"By the time you were born, Lily flat out told me that she didn't want me to be a part of her life anymore. I never even got to meet you. I received the announcement of your birth, but she refused to let me visit. I tried to contact her again over the next year, but my letters always returned unopened. I thought..." he sighed heavily and shook his head sadly, "I thought she hated me. I was distraught when I learned that she and James had died, and I worried for you; what with all the insanity going around about you vanquishing that madman.

"I knew that James' parents were dead, and of course, Lily's mother and step-father were dead, and I wondered what would happen to you. I assumed that Lily and James would have made arrangements for who you were to go to – someone they trusted and that they knew would care for their child, but it didn't change the fact that we were blood, and I hoped that, whoever got you, would consider allowing me to visit you and perhaps be a part of your life. Plus, I knew that you would need to be informed of your Veela heritage, and taught the needed control when you reached that stage.

"It took me nearly nine months of going through red tape and being shuffled around before I even managed to discover that Albus Dumbledore had ended up as your public proxy, and when I contacted him he..." Lucas paused, twisted his face up with grief, "he lied to me. He told me that you had been left with very good family friends who could be trusted. That you had been placed where James and Lily wanted you to be placed, and that your guardians were informed of all information that was important and my interference was not wanted, nor needed. He insisted that it was imperative that your location remain a secret, in order to keep you safe from the remnants of Voldemort's forces."

Harry felt his whole body freeze with denial and anger.

"I was a fool for believing him. I knew better too," Lucas growled, glaring down at his hands that were weaved together in his lap. "I knew not to trust that manipulative old bastard. I knew it! Never in all my years have I encountered such a silver tongued devil."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, suddenly, feeling torn between anger and horror.

Lucas let out a small humorless laugh and shook his head. "Albus Dumbledore... he is a big-picture man. I won't pretend that he hasn't done good for the world, but at what cost? He's one of those that looks at the game as a whole – a giant chess board – and each of the people involved are mere chess pieces. Pawns. He moves them around the board, putting them into position to trick or tempt out the desired moves from his opponent, before striking. Every move, intricately planed out, countless steps ahead. He's an 'ends justifies the means' player. He'll sacrifice any piece needed, so long as it guarantees victory. He sacrificed your mother, after all. I don't doubt for a minute that he'd sacrifice you as well."

"What do you mean, he sacrificed my mother?" Harry whispered, feeling cold and sick and fervently wishing he could just yell at this man that Albus Dumbledore was the greatest wizard alive, just like he had only a week prior to the diary-Tom Riddle. But he couldn't, because he wasn't so sure he believed it right now.

"Your mother was just another piece on the board," Lucas said sadly. "Both she and your father. There were whispers among those in high places about a prophecy. We of the Veela Nation have our own diviners of events yet unseen, and even our people saw the coming fall of the one calling himself Lord Voldemort.

"Our Triad of seers saw several paths. In one path, the Dark One would grow in his power and wreak destruction upon Britain for a decade more before finding true death. In another, there would be a break in the siege, brought about by the sacrifice of a woman, and the power of her son. I have no doubt at all, that Dumbledore heard of these whispers. I wouldn't even doubt it if he had access to the British Magical Ministry's prophecy storage room in the Hall of Prophecy and knew even more than I do. Being a British matter, I suspect that lot were putting all sorts of efforts into finding a way to bring an end to that monster's war.

"Voldemort would have eventually been killed by someone, but with the sacrifice of Lily, and at the suffering of her son, his siege was put to a temporary rest."

"Temporary," Harry said in a shaky voice.

"Yes, Temporary. The triad has said that he did monstrous things to himself to defy the gods and cheat death. He will be back, we've no doubt about that. Dumbledore's meddling bought Britain time, but now the future is unknown. The Veela diviners know not what happens at the end of this path. I only hope that fool Dumbledore hasn't made a grave mistake with his meddling. He has cost me my daughter, and has cost you your parents."

"But how do you know?" Harry asked in a pleading voice. "How do you know that it was Dumbledore's fault? I mean..." Harry trailed off, finding himself speechless and lost.

"Has Dumbledore ever told you why your parents went into hiding? Why Voldemort was after them?"

Harry shook his head, thinking back to a year prior when he'd asked Dumbledore that very question and had been told that he was too young to know. He scowled at the memory. "I asked him once, but he wouldn't tell me." Harry looked up. "Do you know the answer?"

Lucas shook his head. "I can only speculate. As I said, if our diviners saw the coming of a way to put an end – even temporarily – to that madman's war, I have no doubt that the English did much the same. I also suspect that if Dumbledore was able to find out about any such prophecy, so would Voldemort. He had a vast network of spies at that time. Dumbledore likely got your parents into hiding, while Voldemort made efforts to hunt them down and kill them before they became a legitimate threat. I imagine that either Voldemort didn't have all the information, or Dumbledore set a trap. I'll never know if your mother knew anything of what was going on... she was loyal to Dumbledore to the point of blind faith, but I know Lily wouldn't risk her son for the man. Not really. At least... I sure hope not." Lucas heaved a sigh and sank back into the chair again.

Harry swallowed a thick lump in his throat and sat back into the couch he was sitting on, trying to process this mountain that had been heaved on top of him so suddenly.

Heavy silence stretched on for several minutes as Harry thought, and spun the new information around in his head. After a bit he looked back up at the man who was apparently his Grandfather and let out a long slow breath. He didn't know what to think about in regards to Dumbledore. It was all hearsay and conjecture, really. But... But Dumbledore had lied to his grandfather when he'd said that Harry was being left with people that could be trusted. And if Harry had understood Petunia earlier, Dumbledore had apparently told her that Lucas was dead when she had insisted that Harry go to him instead.

Why would Dumbledore want him at the Dursley's, so badly?

"What made you come, now?" Harry asked suddenly.

"I tried to get in contact with you after you started Hogwarts. I sent countless letters during your first year, but none were returned or answered. I feared that you were just destroying them and not even reading them. I finally sent a letter that would notify me the moment it was received by you, but I never received that notification. I sent another letter with a rather obscure and difficult to cast tracking spell. It ended up going to the Edinburgh owl post office, and then ending up in their dead letter office where it was promptly burned. All unauthorized post, addressed to Harry Potter, ends up there now – except for the summers; during which your post ends up directed to the London Owl Post Office before getting burned."

"What! Why!"

"When I enquired, I was told that it was for safety reasons. Harry Potter simply gets too much mail to sort through it all, they said. And too much of it is cursed to risk sending any of it on to the child. He's safer this way." Lucas scoffed angrily. "I did some digging and found that your approved post list is controlled by Dumbledore – still. Even though, now that your over eleven, control of it should be back in your hands. I bet you didn't even know about it, did you?

"No! I've never even heard about any of this!" Harry replied angrily.

"The Owl Post Office should have sent you several things by now – pamphlets and forms for changing your approved sender list – no doubt Dumbledore intercepted them. It became obvious to me that it wasn't just the owl wards through the official post offices that was blocking my attempts at communication. No matter what methods I tried to get messages to you, while within Hogwarts, were thwarted. You never received a single one of my letters or missives. It made me suspicious and I began a quest to find out exactly what was going on with you.

"It took several investigators months of efforts and numerous sketchy spells, but I finally started to get somewhere. I also managed to make some headway on the legal front and got some documents released. I only discovered that you were officially in the care of your Aunt Petunia," Lucas sneered at the name, "four months ago. The time since then has been spent working closely with the families outside solicitors in preparing for today."

"Solicitors?" Harry asked, confused by that part.

"I am going to claim guardianship over you. Legally. That is, assuming, that it is what you want." Lucas hesitated for a moment, looking at Harry unsurely. "Would you like to come live with me, Harry?"

Harry just gaped at the man for the first few seconds before his brain jumpstarted again and he was up and out of his seat frantically shaking his head. "Yes! Yes, yes, yes! He shouted."

Lucas' face was flushed with relief and happiness, and he laughed. "Merlin, Harry! Are you sure? I haven't even told you about my home, or my family. I thought you'd want something a bit tangible to prove my story. I brought a number of the letters that your mother and I exchanged during her later years at Hogwarts and some photos, as well as a selection of legal documents and –"

"Pictures? Can I see them?" Harry asked, finding that he really only cared about that part.

Lucas' smile softened and he nodded. He reached into his muggle suit jacket and pulled out a small box that looked barely bigger than a matchbox and set it down onto the tea table before tapping it with his wand. It instantly grew in size and came to a stop when it was about the size of a large shoebox made for boots. He opened it and began to riffle through it. Harry quickly realized that the box was deeper on the inside than it appeared possible from the outside, but he'd gotten accustomed enough to magic doing weird unbelievable things that he didn't bother to question it.

They spent the next hour pouring over the letters and photos and Lucas recounting a few select stories about Lily's fifth and sixth year while she dealt with her gradually growing allure, and her struggles to keep it under control and hidden, in a boarding school.

Lucas brought out a photo from James and Lily's wedding, and Harry instantly spotted Lucas in the image beside Harry's mum.

"Who's that?" Harry asked, pointing to the very pretty blond-haired older woman who was standing on Lucas' other side.

"That's my wife Aurelie."

"Your wife?" Harry echoed in surprise.

"Yes. I married her about two years after your mother was born, before I even knew about her, actually. Aurelie and I have three children, a two sons and a daughter. Each have children of their own as well, so you've got quite a number of cousins. The eldest is Alexis. He's just turned eleven, actually, and will be starting at Beauxbatons in the fall."

"Beauxbatons?"

"It's the most elite wizarding school in France. Much like Hogwarts is to Britain. I attended Beaubatons, as did all of my children."

"Oh. Wow," Harry said breathlessly, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden prospect of having a whole family he'd never known about. "How many... er... How many cousins have I got?"

"Leon, my eldest boy, has two sons of his own; Alexis and Sebastien, and a daughter, Adelle who just turned seven. Crestien, my second son, has a son named Geffroi whose seven, and a daughter, Mireille, who's just turned four. My daughter Lucienne has two daughters, Noemie, age five, and Lilou, who will be turning two in the fall. So that's seven cousins, two uncles, one aunt, and of course they each have their spouses."

Harry let a shaky breath escape his chest, too stunned with shock and hope for words.

Family. He had family! And they were all blood relatives. He was just as related to these cousins as he was to Dudley – only these cousins were actually magical!

But would they want him?

"Are they all, um... Veela?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Lucienne's husband, Henri, is half-veela. His father is a human wizard. Leon's wife, Josiane, is human, so their three children are all half-veela. Do not fear, Harry. You would not be singled out for having wizard blood."

"Oh..." Harry whispered softly, but feeling a great rush of relief. "Are you sure they wouldn't mind me, though?"

"Mind what?"

"Me... moving in," Harry mumbled hesitantly. "I mean, I'm the grandson from the muggle girl you had a tryst with before you even married your wife. Won't that bother some of them?"

"Oh Harry. No. Not at all. They're all so excited to meet you. My sons and daughter followed along the whole way as I did my best to keep in contact with your mother. Everytime Rosie sent me another letter about Lily, and photos, my children would sit with me and read it. They thought of her as the sister they were kept from knowing. They all wanted to include her; to bring her into the family. And they've all been wanting to include you as well. They've been just as outraged as I have to learn that I was lied to about your placement after you parents died."

Harry took another moment to try and wrap his mind around all of this. It almost sounded too good to be true, but there was also no way he could pass it up either. Honestly... it didn't matter what his grandfather said at this point; anything was better than the Dursley's. Just the same, he still had a few questions.

"So um... your home is in France, you said?"

"That's right."

"But I could still come back and go to Hogwarts, right?"

"Of course," Lucas replied adamantly. "However, I also want you to know that should you ever desire so, you could also transfer to Beauxbatons and continue your education there. It is entirely up to what you want to do."

"Er... right. Um... the thing is that, I don't speak French. Is that going to be a problem?"

Lucas laughed. "No, Harry, that's not a problem at all. There is a spell that has been in our family for generations that will help you learn French very quickly. I used it myself, many years ago, in order to learn English. The spell is even more successful if you are immersed in the language at the time it is cast. Nearly everyone in my family speaks English anyway, but in order for you to learn French more quickly, they'll likely speak it around you almost constantly. The spell translates everything for you for the first few weeks while it subliminally teaches your mind the language. By the end of one month of total immersion, you will likely be fluent enough to speak, read, and write french completely without the aid of the translation spell."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Wow. Magic is brilliant."

Lucas laughed lightly. "Yes, it's quite brilliant. It's been a life-saver for me. I've had to travel to a great many foreign lands for my diplomatic duties earlier in my career and it has always been a godsend to have no problems with language barriers."

"I bet. So what do you do? I mean... you mentioned diplomatic stuff..."

"I still act as a dignitary on diplomatic assignments from time to time, although I am mostly retired now in that area. I specialized in foreign legal disputes for many years – I have practiced law as well, as a matter of fact, and often represent The Family in legal dealings between the Veela nation and foreign countries, although we still have another firm on retainer."

"Oh, wow."

"I suppose. Mostly now, it has served me well since my experience, position, and my connections have given me what was needed in order to guarantee that I could claim full and legal custody of you, should you agree to the arrangement. Everything is already arranged, and I have the magically binding documents with me. When we are ready, all that is left to do is for you to sign it, for me to sign it, and for Petunia to sign it."

"You don't need Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"He has no legal or magical claim upon you. No, he does not need to be consulted in this matter."

Harry nodded and shrugged. "Not that it would really matter, if he did. I'm sure he'd be just as eager as Aunt Petunia to get rid of me."

Lucas let out quiet growling sigh and shook his head. "Ignorant, monstrous, muggles."

Harry didn't say anything in response. He could hardly argue the point. He agreed wholeheartedly in his grandfather's assessment of the Dursley's.

Lucas shook his head and refocused on Harry. "I know you already said yet, but it really is a lot to agree to so suddenly. Are you still sure?"

"About coming to live with you?" Harry asked, incredulous that the man even had to ask.

Lucas laughed and nodded. "Yes. That."

"Yes, I'm sure," Harry said and nodded enthusiastically. "If I can still come back and attend Hogwarts each year, and your family really won't mind me being there, then there's definitely no reason for me not to go with you."

Lucas smiled softly and gave another firm nod of his head. "Good. Good. Now, lets go speak with Petunia and get the documents signed."

The two got up and Lucas performed a quick, silent spell with his wand and all of the photos and letters that had been spread out across the tea table were sent neatly flying back into the large shoe box. Another wave and the box shrunk down again, Lucas picked it up and returned it to his pocket. The pair left the sitting room and went in search of Petunia. She was sitting in the kitchen, staring out the window with a deep scowl on her face. She looked up at them as they entered, and scrunched up her nose, as if she smelled something foul.

"Are you done now? Are you taking him with you?" She asked harshly.

"Yes," Lucas said simply. "I have documents for you to sign first, however. I also have a few questions.

"Fine, but make it fast," she snapped impatiently.

Lucas went and sat down at the table across from Petunia and Harry followed suit, after hesitating for a moment. Lucas began to fish through his inner vest pocket and began pulling out several folded thick sets of parchment and lay them out on the table before them.

Harry glanced at them and noted he could hardly read them with the fancy calligraphic writing that littered them. Large swooping flourishes and broad strokes made up the letters of the very official, but old-fashioned-looking document. It had a red-wax seal at the bottom along with a little ribbon, just below three lines for signatures. There were multiple pages to the documents, and Lucas spent the next twenty minutes explaining what was written on each of them. Petunia looked like she didn't give a damn what it said, so long as it meant Harry would leave, but Lucas was apparently using the opportunity to explain certain legal-magical rules to Harry, as well as impress upon him the importance of never signing your name to a magical-legal document without reading and understanding it first.

From what Harry could gather, it sounded like Petunia was disavowing her status as a blood relative to Harry, giving up all rights to him, and all rights she might have held as a guardian over him. There was also a stipulation that, once given up, she could never again seek to regain the rights she had just forfeited.

She was handing all rights and responsibilities of guardianship over to Marquis Lucas Merovich Conseil, and acknowledged the man as Harry's nearest and most magically appropriate blood relative, and rightful caretaker. By signing the document, Harry was agreeing to regard Lucas as his guardian, and Lucas himself was agreeing to take his new responsibilities seriously; take care of Harry, protect him, teach him, and fight for his rights.

They'd been at it for quite a while before they finally all three signed it. Petunia was irritated at the sheer amount of her time that had been eaten up by the whole activity and was clearly anxious for them to leave.

"There is one last thing that I wish to ask you, Petunia," Lucas said as he folded the parchment and returned it to his inner pocket.

She sneered with distaste and impatience but didn't say anything.

"Growing up, did Harry ever have any accidents involving unexplainable fires?"

Petunia's expression shifted and her eyes widened slightly. "Yes," she answered in a clipped tone. "When he was still quite small – probably no more than five years old – he often set things on fire. It was horrible and terribly frightening. There's no telling what he could have done to the house," she screeched indignantly. "One day, he nearly did burn the house down. Set fire to his... to his room. It was awful. We decided that was the end of it, and I wrote to that mad old headmaster and told him to take the boy away. That if he didn't come and take him that we'd drop him off at the nearest orphanage and leave."

Harry's eyes were wide open and he felt a swirling maelstrom of confusion coursing through his mind. He didn't remember any of this. What was she talking about?

"What happened after that?" Lucas asked tightly.

"The man showed up the next day. He took the boy with him and we thought we were finally free of the little monster."

"But you weren't?"

She sneered deeply and it made her look horribly ugly, Harry noted. "No. He returned the next day. He said he'd done something to the boy to make sure that there wouldn't be any more fires and he fixed the damage from the ones the brat had already set. He said the boy wouldn't even remember the fires and to never mention them again." She scoffed angrily. "As if we would discuss something like that!"

"He fixed the damage," Harry whispered.

"What's that?" Petunia snapped impatiently.

"You said he fixed the damage. What I set fire to was the cupboard, wasn't it?"

She sniffed defiantly.

"Which means, he had to have seen it," Harry went on, his voice going cold and hard. "And he... he fixed the damage... and left me here."

Petunia narrowed her eyes, daringly, but said nothing.

"He made me forget," Harry whispered, mostly to himself, and had to fight very hard to control the boiling rage that was threatening to boil up from within him. He didn't want to believe it; didn't want it to be true. There had to be some explanation, some reason... but Harry rather doubted that any explanation could justify to him what had happened to him.

It was one thing to think that Dumbledore had left Harry with the Dursley's, honestly believing they would take care of him, and simply not realizing how awful they were, but it was another thing entirely to realize that Dumbledore knew, and willfully left him there anyway.

He just... he just wanted to scream.

"Thank you... Petunia," Lucas said in a cold, clipped tone before standing up from his chair and motioning for Harry to do the same. "Come on Harry. Let's get your things, hmm?"

Harry stood and followed Lucas in a state of numbness. His mind was too busy raging between denial and unadulterated fury to even notice what was going on as they passed the cupboard and Lucas opened it with a flick of his wand and levitated the luggage within, out and set it to follow them as the pair trudged up the stairs.

They entered Harry's room and Lucas came to a stop in the center of the room and looked at Harry with sorrow and frustration clearly intermingled on his face.

"I am sorely tempted to bring charges against that man," he growled. "As angry as I am, I know any case brought against him would be ineffective and simply draw his attention to us sooner."

"He knew," Harry ground out and found himself squeezing his eyes shut tightly and fighting against the painful sting of betrayal threatening to bring tears to his eyes.

He heard Lucas sigh heavily, and felt it as his grandfather gently touched his shoulders and guided him to sit on the bed.

"Yes, he did. But I already suspected as much. Tell me, Harry... do you know a woman named Arabella Figg very well?"

Harry opened his eyes and frowned up at his grandfather now in confusion.

"Mrs. Figg?"

"Yes."

"She... she looked after me whenever the Dursley's went out someplace fun or interesting."

"Her house was paid for, in full, by Albus Dumbledore. She moved into that house less than two months after you arrived here, at the Dursley's, and it was the first house in reasonable range that came up for sale."

Harry blinked, feeling yet another wave of horrified shock hit him like a giant wave. "Is she a witch?"

"I don't believe so, although I haven't cast any diagnostic spells on her to check. I believe she may be a squib, actually."

"Wait, what's a squib?"

"Ah, a squib is a person who descends from a magical line, but has no magic themselves. Sort of the exact opposite of a muggleborn. They could have a witch and wizard for parents, and yet have no magic themselves. They often have a very difficult time in life. I can imagine Dumbledore taking pity on the woman and paying for her living arrangements in exchange for her services as a spy on you."

"Oh god," Harry groaned as he let his head fall into his hands. "Crazy old Mrs. Figg... she knew. All this time... and she had to have told him. He couldn't have not known. He knew. He knew and he still left me here."

"I'm so sorry, Harry."

Harry's shoulders shook with the force of his restrained misery, but he finally managed to contain his emotions and raised his head, looking his grandfather in the eye. "You shouldn't apologize. He's the one who ruined my life. Voldemort took away my parents, but Dumbledore was the one who sentenced me to grow up with the Dursley's. He's the one that kept you away. I could have had a family that actually liked me. I could have – "

"And you still will," Lucas interrupted sternly. "You have us now. You have me now, and I take the responsibility and duty of family seriously. We are family, and I am here for you now and forever."

Harry blinked quickly, trying desperately to fight back the sting of tears. He didn't cry. He hadn't cried in years. He hadn't even cried when the basilisk's fang pierced his arm and he was sure he was going to die. However, the next thing he knew, Lucas was sitting down on the bed beside him, wrapping his arms around Harry's shoulder and pulling him into his chest.

The tears escaped then, unbidden, and accompanied by great wracking sobs as his whole body shook with the despair he felt from the greatest betrayal he'd ever experienced in his already mostly miserable life. Harry's arms came up and he clung to his Grandfather fiercely, and simply held onto him, as his body purged years of pent up pain and misery.

Some indeterminate time later, long after the sobs had ended, Harry found himself still holding onto the man he had only met today, but who had come baring a hope that Harry had given up on many years ago. Lucas still had his arms wrapped warmly and reassuringly, around Harry, while the boy's face lay half-buried in the older man's shoulder.

"I'm sorry I got your suit messy," Harry whispered, and he felt rather stupid that, after all that, these were the first words he could coherently utter.

Lucas chuckled. "Don't give it a second thought."

Another silence passed for a minute, and Harry found himself simply basking in how incredible it felt to be held by someone. But his embarrassment was slowly overpowering his desire to continue the first lengthy and caring hug he could ever remember experiencing, and he gradually pulled away, shifting awkwardly and staring at his hands, now clasped in his lap.

"Feeling any better?"

"Yeah, I s'pose," Harry muttered, feeling more and more mortified with each passing second. He couldn't believe he'd just bawled into the man's shoulder like that. They were practically strangers.

"I have something else I think we need to discuss that our little discussion with Petunia revealed to me."

Harry groaned. "Oh, what now?"

"The fact that you were randomly setting things on fire at the young age of five is a sign of great power, however what Petunia said about Dumbledore taking you away for a day and then returning you with the guarantee of no more fires causes me great concern."

"I don't remember any fires," Harry said, scowling. "Does that mean he obliviated me?"

Lucas nodded. "Yes, that is quite likely. However I fear he may have done something else far worse. Harry, are you going to be okay talking about this now, or should I wait?"

"No. I need to know now. Whatever he did, I just... I need to know."

Lucas nodded and drew out his wand. "I need to cast a few diagnostic charms to check for something. Is that alright?"

Harry nodded and Lucas began to weave his wand in intricate motions around Harry and quietly muttering words in french or something similar to it, at least. After a moment his expression went cold and hard and Harry saw a glint of unadulterated fury in the man's bright green eyes.

"He's a monster," Lucas growled angrily.

"What'd he do?" Harry asked, almost too afraid to know.

"He performed a Modero binding on your magic. At the age of Five!" Lucas roared and stood up and began to pace.

"What's that?"

Lucas laughed humorlessly and finally paused to face Harry. "It's a spell used against certain magical beings when locked away in wizarding prisons to prevent them from accessing their naturally occurring magics. With a wizard, you can imprison him and simply take away his wand and he's basically defenseless. He has no access to his magic without his focusing agent to help him call to it. No wand, no threat. However many of us magical beings have access to our magic whether we use a focusing agent or not. We Veela, for example, can wield great fire, as well as several other powerful magics, with absolutely no outside medium at all. With the modero binding in place, your Veela magics are restrained and you have no access to them. Theoretically, when using a focusing agent like a wand, you could still access your magic, but it would be much harder. Have you had difficulty in school getting your magic to cooperate with you?"

Harry's jaw dropped and he nodded his head shakily.

Great Merlin, Dumbledore had bound up Harry's magic? He felt sick and horrified and utterly furious.

"Can we get rid of it?" Harry rasped urgently.

"Yes," Lucas said determinedly "And we will. I will summon a specialist to the chateau as soon as we get home and we should be able to perform the unbinding ritual by tomorrow morning."

Harry nodded numbly and found himself sinking into the mattress slightly and staring blankly at the opposite wall while Lucas began to mutter angrily in french, occasionally saying something in English; usually along the lines of 'Modero Binding a child! Disgusting monstrous fool! Sale bâtard. Je vais le tuer!'

Harry sat there, almost completely still for several minutes while Lucas ranted. He realized, on some level, that he was in some sort of shock. He suspected it was his mind's way of protecting him from all that he'd learned this day. He'd already had his big cry on his grandfather's shoulder and he didn't think he had the energy left to get furious over the discovery that his magic had been partially kept from him. The knowledge that his grandfather could reverse it was enough to keep him calm at the moment, although he expected that once his mind allowed him to face it all again, he would have a spectacular fit of anger.

Harry closed his eyes and pulled in a long slow breath, trying to pull himself into a state where he could function again. Finally feeling somewhat in control of himself again he opened them and looked around. His trunk was sitting by the door to the room, waiting. Hedwig was in her cage, eyeing Lucas curiously as he continued to pace and mutter. Her golden eyes turned and locked on Harry instead and he found himself smiling slightly.

"I can bring Hedwig, right?"

"What?" Lucas said, jerking to a stop and looking confused.

"My owl. I can bring her to France, right?"

"Hm? Oh yes, of course. We have an owlery, but she can also stay in your room should that be what you desire."

Harry smiled and nodded. "Thank you."

Lucas looked at Harry and there was sadness there, mingled with hesitant hope. "We will fix all of this, Harry."

"I know. Thank you."

Lucas sighed heavily and smiled back a moment later. "Well, I suppose we ought to work on getting out of this awful pit, hmm? Is there much here you wish to take with you?"

Harry snorted. "Barely. I've got some things hidden in here, though," Harry said as he slipped off the edge of the bed and knelt down so he could pry up the loose floorboard where he'd hidden a few things that he'd had on him, instead of in his trunk when Vernon locked away his things.

"Um... Merlin this is awkward, but what should I call you?" Harry asked as he gathered his few meager possessions and began to add them to his school trunk.

"Well, that's up to you. If you wish, you can call me Luc, or Grandfather, or whatever you feel most comfortable with. Several of your cousins call me papy Luc or 'pepere'. A more formal option would be Grand-pere."

"Oh, okay. Um, I guess I'll think about it," Harry said with an embarrassed laugh, feeling both nervous and excited. "Oh hey, there was one other thing."

"Yes?"

"Well, I noticed earlier on the documents we all signed that your name was listed as Marquis Lucas. Is your first name actually Marquis?"

Luc laughed slightly and shook his head. "No, no. Marquis is my title. Ah, I suppose I ought to explain a few things about our family's place in Veela society. It wouldn't be right for me to drop you on them all totally unprepared. First, a bit of a history lesson will be necessary I suspect. You see, Harry, our Veela ancestors were advisers to the Merovingian Kings that conquered Gaule."

At the blank stare Harry was giving him, Lucas apparently decided to elaborate. "Gaul is what France was once known as. Well, it was much more than just France, really. It was the region of Western Europe during the Iron Age and Roman era, encompassing present day France, Luxembourg, Belgium, and most of Switzerland. Ah and part of the western portion of Northern Italy. It was Merovech, the leader of the Salian Franks, and then his son Childeric who fought against the Visigoths and the Saxons to gradually claim the land for the Franks. For centuries, our people had lived side-by-side with the muggle Salian Franks. I'll be honest with you and admit that we were worshiped in some parts, but we were also trusted advisers to the ruling nobility both because of our power, but also our knowledge and the ease with which we can influence masses of people through the Allure.

"Our arrangement with the Frankish nobility continued up until shortly before the year 500 when Clovis, one of Merovich's descendants and the king at the time, married a woman named Nicene, and converted to her Christian Faith. After that, It was decided that they wanted nothing to do with us, as we were, undoubtedly demons of some sort and not to be trusted. We Veela then officially isolated ourselves from the muggles. It wasn't like we didn't see it coming, after all the Goths and the Vandals had been at least partly Christianized since the mid 4th century, and while the pagans were inclined to worship us, the Christians were far more inclined to try to hunt us down – so preparations had already been underway to isolate ourselves.

"Our people eventually ended up in an area that is now known as Creuse. We have a very large settlement that equals to be about 3,900 square kilometers that has been made unplottable to muggle detection for more than a thousand years. That's about three times the size of all of London, in case you don't know," he added and Harry just gaped at him and nodded.

"The muggles of France have no idea that our unplottable nation-within-their-nation even exists, and cannot enter our borders thanks to our elaborate system of wards, repellent spells, compulsion charms, and the implementation of a most incredible space-warping magic that was developer earlier this century.

"Their airplanes cannot even fly over us. When they began developing their airplanes, a group of our most skilled spell and ward crafters were set to the task of protecting us from their discovery, and ended up developing a sort of space bubble system that was added to our already advanced ward network. Now, any muggle or muggle-driven craft that enters one portion of the wards is instantly transported, as if through folded space, to the opposite side. They don't even notice the disruption. It is as if we are not there at all."

"Wow. So it's sort of like Hogsmeade and Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"Far more elaborate. Hogsmeade and Hogwarts simply rely on enormous illusions and compulsions to keep muggles away. Plus Hogsmeade and Hogwarts are not self-sufficient and therefore require much less space. They still rely on importing the majority of their goods from other locations, and sometimes traveling to other nearby muggle villages to get supplies not available there, although more often they import things from magical vendors around England. We are a species unto our own, Harry, and do not wish to rely on imported resources that we cannot always guarantee access to. Therefore we are able to be entirely self-sufficient within the Veela nation. Our own agriculture, industry, and entertainment markets are held within the boundaries of our country."

"Wow," Harry breathed, taking in the enormity of such an idea. A whole country isolated from the muggles and populated entirely by magical Veela. He felt the excitement growing. He couldn't wait to see it. He wondered if Hermione knew about this place.

"So, as you can imagine," Luc continued, "we also have our own government as well. The Veela Nation is an Imperial Nation. We have a royal family who have ruled since we first isolated ourselves from the muggles nearly 1500 years ago. I, and you, are descended from that line, however, while I am not in direct line for ascendance to the throne, I am still a part of the royal nobility. My Great Aunt, Genovefa, is our Empress, although she is intending to abdicate the throne to her Granddaughter, Princess Rusticula, next year. Rusticula's mother, Deuteria has been Arch Dutchess, and acting monarch for the majority of the last two decades anyway, however Deuteria wishes for her daughter to be the next empress."

"Whoa," Harry breathed out as he sat down heavily on his bed. "Wait... wait..." Harry held up his hand and squeezed his eyes shut, trying very very hard to push through the mental block of pure shock he was trying to wrap his mind around. "Are you telling me that I'm not only part magical creature from France, but I'm descended from the Royal Line of said french magical creatures?"

Lucas laughed and nodded with an unapologetically amused expression on his face. "Yes," he simply said.

Harry barked out an almost hysterical laugh before shaking his head. "This day is definitely going to go down as the most insane and shocking day of my life. And here I thought that nothing could ever top the day Hagrid came and told me I was a wizard, but you have definitely managed to top it."

Lucas laughed again. "Glad I could be of service. Now, have you got everything packed that you wish to take?"

Harry looked around one last time, seeing nothing remaining that he valued at all before looking back at Lucas and smiling. "I've got everything. So how are we going to get there?"

Lucas stood up and waved his wand, causing the trunk to begin floating in the air again. Harry reached over and picked up Hedwig's cage and carried it as he followed Lucas out of his room.

"Have you ever taken a portkey before?" Luc asked.

"Er... I don't even know what that is," Harry admitted sheepishly.

"No worries, Harry. It's hardly your fault you were isolated in this miserable pit," Lucas grumbled and then went on to explain to Harry what exactly a portkey was, and what he could expect from the experience. Instead of going out to the front garden, Lucas led him into the back. Petunia was in the sitting room as they walked through the entry hall and Harry didn't even bother to say anything. She had already made it perfectly clear how she felt about him, and the feeling was entirely mutual.

They ended up in the back garden and Lucas presented Harry with a small clay cup. Harry looked at it curiously as Lucas explained that Portkeys were generally made out of seemingly innocuous objects to make them harder to discover. Harry shrugged and followed his grandfather's instructions as he held tightly onto Hedwig's cage while touching the cup with the other hand. Lucas had a hold of Harry's trunk in his freehand and a moment later he spoke the activation phrase and they were whisked away to France.

– –

What followed over the course of the next two and a half months was what Harry considered to be the best summer of his life thus far. But what was most amazing was that, for the first time in his life, he had hope for future summers to be just as good if not better.

Just as his grandfather had promised, the very morning after Harry came to stay with him, a special sort of healer was brought in to break the binding spell upon Harry. It had been a shocking adjustment for Harry, and for several weeks afterwards, he had felt like his magic was utterly out of his control. The good thing, however, was that since he was now within the Veela nation, there was no fear of prosecution for performing underage magic, and he could practice all he wanted to get his magic back under control.

Harry also got to meet his family. Harry had moved into the Chateaux de Faucon, which as far as Harry was concerned, was a palace in it's own right. It was located in the royalty district of the Veela Nation's central city, Iledevol. It was where all of the governing buildings, as well as the traditional residences of the royal family resided. There were several large manor houses, as well as one especially impressive palace where the main line resided.

Chateaux de Faucon was home to the majority of Lucas' family, although his daughter, Lucienne lived in the city with her husband, Henri and their children, and Leon's family had a home of their own that they resided in during the winter months. However, this was summer, and Leon, his wife, and their three children, were living in the Chateaux along with Lucas and his wife Aurelie.

Aurelie had married Lucas a few years after Harry's mum had been born, so she and Harry had no actual blood ties to each other, but that did not stop the woman from insisting that he call her grandmother. Or 'mamie', as the other children called her. Lucas became papy Luc quite quickly as well.

After a week in the Chateau, Lucas' second son Crestien, and his family, returned to the chateaux from a holiday abroad and they were all enthusiastic in their welcome of Harry into the family. With Leon and his wife, and their three children, and Crestien and his wife and their two children, Harry had worried that the place would be overly full and that there wouldn't really be enough room for him, but his fears were quickly assuaged, merely by being given a proper tour of the Chateaux. It truly was enormous, with four floors, two wings, a huge library, an observatory, several small dining rooms and one large dining hall, and more bedrooms than Harry could think of what to do with.

It was certainly a drastic change from the Dursley's house, that was for sure. Harry also realized that his new extended family weren't actually the only ones living there. Several of the staff and their families also lived within the manor.

As Lucas had promised, Harry had been placed under the translation spell that would help him to learn French without even realizing it. It was extremely unusual at first because on some level, Harry knew everyone around him was speaking in French, however his mind registered everything in English. But what was truly odd was that after a week, his mind began to interchange various words for the french counterpart, but he still understood completely what they meant. It continued to progress quickly until he was actually thinking in French, without it seeming even the slightest bit odd. Just as Lucas had said, by the time Harry's birthday rolled around, he was fluent in the language and consciously switch between English and French at will, and could understand and speak in both just as fluently.

The month of July had been spent doing much more than simply learning French, however. The Conceil children had tutors that taught them over the summers, and Harry was quickly swept into those lessons.

While the children had their normal lessons during the rest of the year, the summer months lessons were reserved specifically for training in control of their Veela skills. Since the eldest of the children was Alexis and he was only eleven, none of them were having to deal with the Allure yet, however they were all facing the issue of their fire, and this was definitely something Harry found he needed help with as well.

Not only had his magic in general felt a bit out of control once his binding was removed, but his veela magic felt utterly overwhelming. He had felt horrible after the sixth time he'd accidentally set fire to something in his sleep, but his papy Luc insisted that he had nothing to apologize for and it wasn't even the slightest of inconveniences. The whole chateaux was warded against fire – everything in the Veela Nation was – and there were spells in place to suppress all fires started within seconds of them starting. Still, Harry found it embarrassing to know that seven year old Geffroi had better control of his fire skills then Harry did.

He just hoped that he'd have his fire magic under control by the time he got back to Hogwarts. The last thing he needed was to accidentally set fire to his bed hangings, or cause some sort of explosion in Potions class.

The Veela magic lessons that he was attending with his cousins were helping, and his tutor was confident that he'd have a handle on things by the time he went back to Hogwarts. Harry just hoped it were true.

But on top of his desire to simply stop setting things on fire, on accident, Harry honestly found himself enthralled by the more high level fire animation that the tutor demonstrated. His cousin Alexis was also especially good at it, and Harry promised himself to keep working at it till he could control it that well.

The other subject of study, in these lessons, that Harry was able to join in on was the avian form transformation. Papy Luc had demonstrated the Veela avian form to him his first week in the chateaux, and at first he hadn't quite known how to feel about the whole thing.

One detached part of his mind definitely recognized that, from a wizard's point of view, the Veela avian form was probably a bit monstrous. At the same time, another part of Harry's mind thought it was incredible, and sort of beautiful.

Papy Luc's appearance had changed quite drastically upon transforming and yet some part of Harry could still instantly recognize him as the same man. He was still humanoid, with two long legs, and upright torso, shoulders and arms – so on a very general level, he still maintained many of the same proportions. However his legs changed drastically; feet were replaced with taloned bird-like feet and legs reminiscent of a ostriches or something, where the knees were higher, and the tibia bones met with the ankle was much higher than on human legs, making it almost look as if a portion of his legs bent backwards at a joint Harry wasn't used to. His feet were entirely bird-like with three long taloned digits at the front and a single one in the rear. The skin of his legs and arms were free of feathers and covered with a sort of leathery scales that reminded Harry a bit of the skin on a turkey's neck and head.

His rib cage changed shape quite drastically. Along the center where a human sternum would be located, a long avian keel appeared, causing a sharp, angled protrusion to come out of the chest. There were also feathers scattered across the torso, with most of them focused along the shoulders and clavicle area. His arms still looked rather human in general shape and structure, although there was considerably less fat, so the muscle and tendons were more pronounced, and the skin was once again leathery and scaled with scattered feathers along the back of the upper-arms, down to the elbows. The hands, like the feet, had large heavy talons on the tips of the fingers, but at least the hands themselves still looked mostly human, with four fingers and a thumb in the same general shape that Harry was accustomed to.

The head was a rather dramatic change, and yet there was still no question at all that it was still his grandfather. His hair was completely replaced with shiny red and black feathers similar in color to his old hair, that went all the way down the back of his now-wide neck and smoothly down into his shoulders. Where his nose and mouth had once been, a beak had replaced them. It was the same sort of downward hook-curved beak you'd find on a bald eagle, and it was a bright golden yellow color. His eyes were the same, and yet also different. They were a hawk's eyes, but they remained the same striking green color, and similar in shape, but larger than they were before.

The wings protruding out of his back were surprisingly small considering the overall size of of the main body. He had a wing span of only about 7 feet wide, which obviously wouldn't be sufficient to lift a body of a full-grown man, but it was explained to Harry that Veela wings weren't what actually allowed a Veela flight; they did that with their magic. The wings were actually only used for steering and additional maneuverability.

The Allure didn't manifest until puberty, and the urge to learn to transform also waited till that time to start, but that did not mean that it was not possible to start learning it before then. In fact, according to the children's tutor, once long ago, Veela were born in their bird form and had to learn how to transform into the human form around puberty. Co-existence with humans and frequent interbreeding with witches and wizards had eventually resulted in the way things were now, where Veela children tended to be born in their human form.

Harry started working on his transformation as well, although he wasn't exactly making much progress. For the first three weeks, in fact, he made no progress at all. It made him worry that having the binding on his Veela powers for so long had stunted his ability to use his Veela magic – after all, even five-year-old Noemie, was able to sprout feathers, transform her legs, and get taloned fingers. But during a lesson, almost exactly one month after starting study, he sprouted feathers all along his shoulders and back, and found himself rejoicing in excitement.

He couldn't even quite explain why part of him wanted to do this. Part of him still thought the Veela avian form was a bit hideous; and yet another part of him would watch his cousin Alexis fly around the gardens in his full avian form and think he looked... incredible. Graceful and beautiful. His shining red and yellow plummage almost glowing in the bright warm sun.

There was also the very real allure of flying.

It made him wonder if the reason he felt like such a natural on a broom had nothing to do with his father the Quidditch star, at all, but was instead something he inherited from his mother and her Veela blood. Perhaps his instincts for catching the right wind and getting the trajectories and the speed just right, was because of his avain nature. Ever since his first time on a broom he had felt at home in the sky.

Perhaps this explained all of that.

While most of his time and focus over that summer was spent getting to know this whole new huge family he had gained, and trying to learn as much as he could about the species he had just come to realize he was a part of, there were other notable discoveries and decisions made while staying at Chateaux de Faucon.

The first and most painfully obvious discovery was that whatever measures Dumbledore had taken to filter his mail in Britain, it did not work in France, or at the very least, it did not work in the Veela Nation, because all of a sudden, Harry was getting a lot of unsolicited mail.

Being of the royal line, the Conseil were at least prepared to deal with this. There was already a person employed to check the safety of incoming mail, so Harry's mail was filtered through there first to make sure nothing was cursed or had tracking spells on it. Most items did not, but there were some that did.

Apparently news of the Chamber, or rather, rumors about the Chamber had gotten out into the Daily Prophet or something back in England, and a number of Harry's letters were in regards to that. But there were others that had nothing to do with it at all.

There was one little girl who had written him a letter that Harry got the distinct impression from, that she had been mailing him regularly for a very long time, and the fact that he had never responded to any of them had not deterred her from continuing to do it.

He found he felt quite badly that all these people had been mailing him all these years and he'd never once written back. No doubt they would all have assumed that he was just rude, or maybe they'd think that he was arrogant, like Snape believed, and that he thought he was too good to bother writing them back. It just served to renew his bitter anger aimed squarely at Dumbledore and all that he had done to Harry.

There were many times that Harry wished, desperately, to understand the man's motives. Even now, he had a hard time imagining Dumbledore would have ever done any of this for the sake of making Harry suffer. Dumbledore wasn't an evil man... at least, Harry certainly hoped not. Surely the man had a reason for doing the awful things he'd done to Harry. But then he'd scowl and realize that it didn't matter what reasons Dumbledore believed he had for doing what he did. It didn't make it alright.

In regards to all that Dumbledore had done in an attempt to force Harry's stay with the Dursley's, Harry and his papy Luc decided it was best to keep Harry's new living situation a secret for as long as possible. As a result of this decision, Harry had not told his friends about all that had happened to him. Hermione and her parents had gone on holiday to Greece for most of July, and she'd only been able to write Harry once while away.

Ron's father had won some sort of drawing prize from the Daily Prophet and as a result the Weasley's had gotten some large sum of money and they had taken the money and the whole family, and gone to Egypt to visit their eldest son, Bill and take a well-deserved vacation. Ron had written Harry excitedly about all of this just before they'd all left for their trip, and had only written once while they were staying abroad. The letters had been longer than Ron's usually were, but he supposed that was because Ron actually had a lot of interesting things to talk about for once. As a result, it wasn't all that hard for Harry to simply not mention anything about what had been happening to him, and had instead focused on being excited for Ron.

Harry's birthday was undeniably the best one he'd had to that point. His whole family was there, even his aunt Lucienne, her husband and their two daughters came for the party his papy Luc had thrown for him. Harry sat at the table with a beautiful cake in front of him, and his youngest cousin, Lilou, sitting on his lap, while he blew out his thirteen candles. Luc had thought the tradition was amusing and insisted on it, since Harry had never gotten to do it before.

Harry also got to experience some local Veela-made red wine for the first time. He was surprised when Alexi was also allowed a small glass. The boy apparently had had some before since he didn't even grimace at the taste, while Harry's face had twisted up, not entirely sure what to make of the flavor.

Both of Harry's friends sent him presents on his birthday, despite both of them being out of the country – little did they realize, so was Harry. In Hermione's letter she wished him a happy birthday, hoped he wasn't too miserable with his relatives, and then pointedly asked him if he'd completed his summer homework yet. It actually made him laugh, where as he was sure if he was still with the Dursley's, it would have actually annoyed him. He was able to write back and proudly proclaim that yes, he had gotten it all done.

As part of training to get his now unbound magic under control, he'd actually gone back through a number of his setbooks and practiced all of the spells he'd had trouble with before. It didn't take him long to get through all of them because this time not a one gave him trouble – unless you considered accidentally overpowering his spells, trouble. He was excited by his new success with his magic, and actually found himself seriously looking forward to what sort of spells he would get to learn in the coming school year.

That didn't mean he was going to turn into Hermione though. He still found recreational reading mind numbing, and he would never enjoy writing essays on magical theory. But just the prospect of not struggling so much with the practical spell work lifted his spirits. He suspected he might really enjoy his classes this year.

After his party had concluded, Harry and his family went out on the town and enjoyed an outdoor pantomime in the raised in-ground stone amphitheater in La Place Centrale Park of Iledevol. Harry had never seen anything like it, and was mesmerized by watching the play unfold. Several of the characters in the pantomime were in their avian form throughout the entire thing, and actually flew quite a bit, with choreographed grace.

He realized with a sudden sense of yearning that he wanted to do that. He wanted to fly.

He refocused more of his efforts on trying to succeed in his transformation. Alexis was helping him, and since the boy himself and only just mastered it to the point of flight during the previous year, his advice was the most helpful to Harry. Their tutor was good too, but he was much older and Harry wasn't able to connect as well with his advice as he did with his eldest cousin.

Still, Harry didn't get much further than leathered-scales and feathers, and only the slightest beginning of a keel protrusion. His head remained completely unchanged and the only sign of wings were an uncomfortable heat and the sense of pressure in his back. To make up for his frustrations in his lack of success, Harry would spend afternoons on his broom, flying through the air and chasing after Alexis in his avian form.

In addition to the time spent with his eldest cousins, playing and studying, Harry also found that he really enjoyed babysitting the younger children whenever the need arose.

He absolutely loved babysitting Lilou, who was only two years old, and found he had quite a knack for keeping her entertained. Mirielle, age four, Uncle Crestien's youngest, and Noemie, age four, Lilou's sister and Aunt Lucienne's eldest, were very close. They were only about six months apart in age, and had obviously grown up spending a great deal of time together. They actually looked rather alike as well, although Mireille had the Conseil family green eyes like Harry, and had reddish hair, while Noemie had inherited her sharp blue eyes and blond hair from her father. Harry joked that if you shaved both their heads and ignored the eye color, the two could probably pass for identical twins. Both girls looked utterly affronted by the mere suggestion of shaving their heads, which caused Mireille's older brother Geffroi to roll with laughter.

By the time mid-August arrived, Harry could say without a shadow of a doubt that he was totally and utterly happy. In the beginning he had felt a bit like a stranger intruding upon this wonderful happy family, but as his summer neared an end, he definitely felt like he was a part of the family. They had made him feel, not only welcome, but as if he really and truly were apart of them. He felt like he belonged.