Chapter 38

AN: ...well...here we are again. Three years after I first published this and nearly two after I last updated. In all honesty, I'm super embarrassed and sorry for this long ass time away. I truly have no excuses other than life happened and continued to happen. But, don't worry! I have never stopped writing. I haven't lost my muse for this story. It has just taken me a longer time writing due to the stresses of life. Not sure when the next chapter will be posted, but I promise. I AM going to finish this. So nobody worry. Shdw's back!

Disclaimer: In all this time away, I still haven't acquired the copyright for Harry Potter or any of its characters. I still just own this lovely plot.

-xXx-

Hermione felt herself yawn widely as she sat down for breakfast. Only a couple of dozen students had made it down so far and she briefly wondered what it was that had made her leave her warm and cozy bed so early. She and Fleur had had such a good night during and after the Yule Ball and all the Kanaima wanted to do was curl back up with her mate and go to sleep. Oh if only that were a possibility, she sighed, thinking of the early morning call as she allowed her eyes to drift closed for a moment.

"Morning, Hermione," a too cheerful Harry beamed at her. She opened a bleary eye to see the Boy-Who-Lived happily munching on a piece of toast.

"Harry," she groaned, "why are you so happy this early? It's too early to be this happy."

He cocked his head to the side as he peered at her, "It's nearly nine o'clock, which is way later than we normally get up for classes." Hermione grunted in response.

"Besides," he continued, his demeanor changing to one of bashfulness, "I couldn't sleep much last night."

This caught Hermione's attention as she gazed at him curiously. "Oh?" she questioned, "Yule Ball too much excitement for you?"

Harry shrugged and muttered something (sounded like "You could say that" to her) before looking towards the Great Hall doors. "Where's the Clan?" the black-haired boy suddenly asked, "I figured they woulda been down with you."

She cocked her head to the side, now more wide-awake than before, "They had a meeting this morning. Did you and Amélie do something special last night?" Hermione couldn't help the grin that formed on her face as her friend blushed brightly.

Leaning her head on her hands, the brunette fully focused on the boy before her. "Now you have to tell me. What did you and your Veela get up to last night?"

"She's not my Veela," he muttered while picking at his toast.

She snorted, "Yea, well, tell the Clan that. Trust me Harry, once you get one that interested in you, you're basically stuck with them. Only her finding her mate or you being mated to another would cause this relationship to break."

Harry peered at her for a moment before glancing up at the ceiling. Hermione wasn't sure if something had caught his attention or if he was looking up there for an answer, but before she had a chance to ask him, the Wizard nodded and shrugged his shoulders as he looked back at her, "I think I'm fine with that."

"Good," her eyebrow rose for a moment before gesturing towards him, urging him to continue.

He reared back slightly as his face scrunched up in confusion, "What?"

Hermione barely resisted the urge to throw her hands up in frustration. "What happened last night?" she basically demanded.

"Oh, ya know. We danced and talked and stuff. Good times to be had by all."

"Come on, Harry," she whined. It was too early to be playing this stupid game.

Harry took a quick glance and shrugged (though the attempt at nonchalance was ruined by the bright blush), "We also may have…um…ya know…kissed." He had muttered the last part and Hermione had never been more grateful for her heightened senses.

She squealed, clapping her hands together in a moment of glee. "Harry! I'm so happy for you. When did it happen? WHERE did it happen? Did you kiss her or her you? It had to have been her surely. Ha-"

"Hermione! Dear Merlin, relax," the Boy-Who-Lived shook his head, "I swear woman, you're more excited than I am."

"Well of course I am. For the last two years I've had to deal with endless amounts of teasing and knowing looks and I am ecstatic to finally have them off my back and onto somebody else's." She took a sip of her tea as she ignored his terrified look. "Honestly Harry, thank you. This is the best Christmas gift you could have given me."

He merely rolled his eyes and shoved the rest of his toast into his mouth, muttering a "Happy to help" as he did. They had a few moments of comfortable silence as the Great Hall slowly filled with students, both lost in their own thoughts about the night before and the days to come. However, the peace didn't last as Hermione became aware of the growing number of people looking their way. The fact they had the Daily Prophet before them filled her with dread.

"Erm…Harry?"

Both of the Fourth years glanced up to see a cautious Neville standing beside them, the newspaper clenched tightly in his grasp. Without any word to the boy, Harry snatched it out of his hands and glanced at the front page. The sudden flare in his bright green eyes set off every instinct Hermione had.

With an uncharacteristic growl, Harry flung the paper towards her before clenching his fists tightly. "Why can she not leave me alone?" he whispered, "Just one day I want to live my life in peace."

Hermione quickly ignored him and the ever fearful Neville in favor of glancing at the picture adorning the front page. She sent a pulse along the Bond, hoping that Fleur would hurry up as she quickly read through Skeeter's new article.

The picture itself was quite lovely, if not a bit invasive. It was taken just as Harry (which shocked Hermione to no end) had captured Amélie's lips in a passionate kiss. Hermione couldn't help but smile as she saw the brief confusion and then utter happiness that occurred between the two of them. This picture would surely be cut out by one (or, more likely, all) of the Veela and used against the couple in the future.

However, it was the bold headline questioning the Veela's motives that caused her to worry. If there was one thing she had learned the most during her time with the Clan, it was to never insult a Veela in any way, shape, or form. They don't take too kindly to it.

She quickly read through the article and was not impressed. Skeeter had taken little time to look at who Amélie really was, only mentioning the Veela's name, the fact that she was, indeed, a full-blooded Veela, and her year in school. The majority of the article speculated whether or not she was trying to sabotage the Tournament by distracting 'their' Boy-Who-Lived and allowing Fleur a clear path to victory. Even Hermione herself was brought into question with the article, reminding readers of her altercation with Krum. It then ended by Skeeter questioning the legitimacy of Fleur's place in the Tournament and borderline blamed the entirety of Beauxbaton's to be conspiring against the other Champions. Skeeter even had the nerve to issue a warning to Diggory, speculating that he could very well be next on their 'hitlist'.

Hermione shook her head, wondering who all could believe this nonsense.

However, a quick glance around the room showed that most of the students had read the article and trusted every word of it. Around her, Hogwart's students were shooting her glares from the corner of their eyes and she quickly tensed, feeling suddenly self-conscious. Without meaning to, Hermione found her eyes drifting towards the Slytherin table and quickly locked eyes with Krum. The Bulgarian simply smirked and raised his goblet before taking a drink, confusing her completely.

She had been so focused on the students surrounding them that a hand resting itself on her shoulder caused her to jump. It was only the familiar scent of vanilla that caused her not to draw her wand. As Fleur settled in beside her, Hermione locked eyes with Amélie as she sat worriedly by Harry, shooting a glance towards her before turning her attention back to the boy. Without a word, she handed the paper over to the redhead and watched as the article was read through a few times before the Veela's eyes flashed a bright gold. Everyone who had been watching the exchange (which had been nearly everyone in the Hall) jumped back in surprise as the paper clutched tightly within Amélie's grasp burst into flames. Hermione watched worriedly as deep green feathers began sprouting around the redhead's hairline.

"Relax, Sister," Fleur said firmly, "There is nothing to be done now."

The Veela slammed her hand on the table, once more causing everyone to jump. "Relax?! How dare you tell me to relax?! This woman must be punished! Saying that I would dare do anything to compromise my Harry. I will find her and te-"

"Amélie! Enough." The oppressive feeling of Thrall washed throughout the room, silencing any remaining conversations. However, this did not seem to calm the raging Veela before them and Hermione briefly wondered if there was going to be fight that Boxing Day.

At least, she did, until Harry reached over and grasped Amélie's hand.

Hermione could honestly say that she had never seen such an abrupt change in a Veela before. Sure, she had done nearly the same thing to Fleur on numerous occasions, but this sudden calming had her blinking her eyes in confusion, wondering if she had just imagined the half-transformed Veela the entire time.

As soon as Harry tugged on her, the flames surrounding the redhead's hands immediately extinguished and her feathers started to recede. Amélie whipped her head down to look at him, looking for all the world like that was the first time seeing him. It only took her a moment, but her face quickly heated up, turning near the same shade of red as her hair as she sat down, muttering a quick apology to the Boy-Who-Lived.

Harry, for what it was worth, looked equal parts confused, amazed, and happy. Probably didn't think that would work, Hermione thought with a grin.

"It's alright, Amélie," Harry said with a lopsided grin, "just thinking of Skeeter's ugly face wants me to spontaneously combust too."

Those within hearing distance shared a chuckle, imagining the woman's ridiculous glasses and hair. Conversation returned to the students as Fleur sat down and wrapped an arm around Hermione's waist. It's a very different experience watching another newly formed pair, Hermione thought, no wonder everyone teased us so much. They're too adorable together.

Amélie's face was still red as she apologized once more, "I am truly sorry, 'arry. I did not mean to lose control like zat. Just zee zought of zat woman," the redhead spat out the word as her eyes flashed gold once more, "insulting such a wonderful night sent zee Veela into a rage. I…" Amélie turned shy for a moment, an emotion that Hermione never thought possible in the lively Veela, "I hope you did not believe what she wrote."

Harry scoffed, pulling her closer, "Of course not. Skeeter can't write the truth if it was presented before her. Hell, I like you even that much more after seeing the fire. It was amazing…"

His face turned a bright red as all the Veela surrounding them smiled in his direction. Amélie was nearly beaming which caused Hermione to chuckle at the pair.

"Not that I'm not happy for my best mate, but do you have to turn into a cuddly couple so early on?"

They all looked towards Ron (late as always, Hermione shook her head) as he settled down on the other side of Harry. Feeling all the eyes on him, the boy looked up from where he was piling his plate tall and looked around in confusion.

"What?"

"Where have you been?" Hermione raised an eyebrow at the redhead.

Ron scrunched up his face and shrugged, "It's Boxing Day. I was in bed, of course."

"Let me guess, the only reason you're up is because you got hungry," Harry playfully shoved him.

"Well, duh."

Hermione was too interested in teasing her other friend that the sudden landing of a near dozen owls scared the shit out of her. It was obvious that nobody else expected the massive amount of birds that morning, least of all Amélie, who was now watching the birds before her in bewilderment. The owls soon began to fight each other, trying to be the first to deliver their message to the redheaded Veela.

Harry stage whispered, "You must have a lot of friends back home."

Without a word, the Veela narrowed her eyes and started carefully taking each letter from the owls (who immediately flew up and out after being relieved of their duty). She flipped through all of them, glancing at the front and back of each before sorting them in separate piles, not opening a single one.

"Um…what are you doing?" Hermione watched in vast interest. If she had been in Amélie's position, she wouldn't have hesitated in ripping open each envelope, anxious to see what they were all about.

The glare she received sent Hermione looking pitifully towards Fleur.

The blonde sighed, "If I were to guess, zose letters," she pointed to the larger pile, "are from people zat none of us know. Which means zat zey are more zan likely from zee people 'oo 'ave read zee paper and believed zat garbage. From 'ow zee ozer students 'ave reacted, I would say zat is a safe bet." Amélie nodded once as she opened one of the three letters that weren't in the pile and read over it.

"And those are from family," Hermione shook her head, feeling very silly all of a sudden.

"Hey, what's Errol doing here?" Ron suddenly said, pointing towards the ceiling. "I thought all of our presents had already been delivered…"

All of their eyes suddenly shot up as a very ragged looking owl flew (plummeted, Hermione winced) towards them. The red letter it held tightly between its claws caused the Great Hall to become silent once more.

As he too landed in front of Amélie, Errol quickly deposited the Howler in front of her and took off as fast as he could. From his speedy departure and Ron's and the Twin's sympathetic winces, Hermione figured Mrs. Weasley loved to send Howlers on the daily.

Amélie allowed the letter to rip itself open to begin its tirade. Mrs. Weasley's voice boomed throughout the Great Hall, calling the Veela a French Harlot who should "go back to the egg she hatched from and leave decent wizards alone". To say this enraged all of the Veela present would be an understatement.

What surprised Hermione, however, was that it was Harry that finally ended the constant yelling. The Boy-Who-Lived's green eyes flashed dangerously as he picked up the large bowl of porridge left over from breakfast and brought it contents down on the ranting letter. The Hall was deathly quiet (save for the now muffled shouts of the still on-going Howler) so near everyone heard Amélie's question.

"You know zis woman?"

Hermione winced at the dangerously low tone the Veela had. Feathers had reemerged and she knew that there was no amount of talking that could calm the redhead now.

Harry scowled down at the bowl and nodded, "That was Mrs. Weasley. She's helped me with the Wizarding world since I was a First Year."

This caused her to pause. "She is family?"

"No," Harry shook his head, "And after this stunt? Definitely not."

"Bon." With that, Amélie stood up, levitated the stack of letters, and started towards the door. The occupants of the Hall all watched and suddenly felt sorry for the older witch, even those that didn't know either redhead very well. The look on the Veela's face was murderous.

"Amélie!" Eyes shot back to the now standing Ron, who was looking towards the other redhead with worry. The Veela merely paused, waiting for him to continue.

With a deep breath, Ron squared his shoulders for a moment before allowing them to sag and meekly asked, "Try not to kill her, alright? I know she's gone spare and all, but she's still my mum."

With a quick glance over her shoulder, Amélie nodded once before proceeding out the door.

Conversation returned full force once the door slammed closed. With a heavy sigh, Ron fell back to his seat and stared dejectedly at his plate. Hermione reached over and patted his hand, not sure on what else she could do.

"What are the chances that Amélie actually kills Mrs. Weasley?" Harry asked, a thoughtful look on his face as he still looked towards the door. Hermione raised her eyebrow at him as she detected a small amount of hope in his voice while Ron groaned deeply at the question and hung his head further.

Fleur merely shrugged, taking a sip of coffee before saying, "For zee letters, I would say zat, based on zee contents of zem, she will just send a mild to moderate 'ex back. More zan likely, one zat lasts a few days or a week. No killing or anyzing like zat because she 'ad zee chance to open zem in private. No public 'umiliation at all. 'owever, since a 'owler was delivered in zee middle of a very public place during a busy time," Fleur shrugged her shoulders, "Let us just say zat if she is not going to do somezing zen I will. I might still, in fact. Zat woman insulted, not only a member of my Clan, but a very close friend. Zis is unacceptable."

"I'm not going to have a mum anymore am I?" Ron's head was on the table at this point as he groaned again.

Hermione patted his hand one more time, "Look on the bright side Ron. If she isn't dead or maimed, hopefully she'll learn from this and keep her nose out of other's business so this never happens again."

Ron groaned louder as he mentioned how impossible such a feat was. The brunette shrugged once before returning to her breakfast. There was only so much she could do and secretly she thought that Mrs. Weasley deserved everything Amélie was about to do to her. She paused once as she thought about all the things Harry and Ron thought the woman had done to them over the years and nodded. Yea, she deserves it.

-xXx-

Thanks for reading!