Chapitre 9: The Delacour Sisters

"And so, guys, it's, um, it's like this," Harry tried again, licking his lips. "I'm- that is to say, I am-"

"We know what that word means Harry, both Ron and I are well versed in the use of contractions," an impatient Hermione interrupted, sharing a concerned glance with Ron before looking back to the darker haired wizard. "You've been at it for six and a half minutes now; spit it out. You're scaring us."

Harry scratched the back of his head and paced a little, taking a quick look around the abandoned classroom he and his friends had commandeered for their little chat, although to call it a chat made it sound as though information was being shared between two parties, and the young Choiceling was having an extraordinary time figuring out how to manage that. For some inexplicable reason, every time he tried to explain his situation to his friends, he wound up chickening out.

Telling himself that it was like a band aid, Harry took a puff of air and half-shouted, "I'm a magical creature!"

A few seconds of hesitant silence followed his declaration, until finally Ron spoke up, as only Ron could.

"I knew that troll from first year was familiar…"

Startled and already jittery with dreadful anticipation, Harry was completely blindsided by the joke and found himself doubling over painfully as he laughed hard into his fist. "F-for real," the boy wizard managed, slowly fighting through the hiccuping laughs. "I came into my inheritance this summer."

"Really?" Hermione asked, removing her butt from the teacher's desk where it'd been sat to walk towards the standing fourteen year old. "What kind?" she asked openly, obviously trying to guess for herself.

"A Choiceling," Harry began, but stopped short when Ron shot up.

Snatching his wand free from his pocket, the redhead trained the stick at Harry with a snarl, gravely claiming, "Choicelings killed my grandpa!"

When Harry only pinched the bridge of his nose in embarrassment, Hermione, who'd ignored the redhead entirely, remarked, "Ron, I would happily risk creating a paradox and losing all of the extra schooling I received should I ever got my hands on a Time-Turner again, just for the chance to go back and tell myself not to laugh at that stupid joke that one time."

Looking at his two friends, aghast, Ron shook his wand and insisted, "Mudbloods killed my grandpa is timeless gold. I revolutionized the worlds of mud and blood at the same time when I blessed you guys with that one."

Smiling warmly at Ron's relentless idiocy, Harry nonetheless caught the lightning fast look that his two friends shared. It was the kind the three of them would use to say, 'where's the catch.'

"So what exactly does being a Choiceling entail, Harry," Hermione asked, promoting herself to Chairwoman of the Harry Potter Interrogation Squad.

Not to be outdone, Ron faux-shyly pulled his robe collar down, exposing the freckled skin of his neck to Harry while saying, "If you need to feed, I'm here for ya buddy."

Shuddering, Harry reminded himself, 'He doesn't know,' and left the mental image behind, opting to simply shake his head as Ron released his robes with a laugh.

"Well?" Hermione probed, beginning to tap her toe against the floor.

'Somebody's grumpy,' Harry thought. "Well," he began aloud, "it's like this. A Choiceling is just a fancy subspecies of incubus."

"No tail?" Ron asked with a cocked head, to which Harry confirmed, "No tail. I can still do wand magic as well, thankfully."

"I-" Hermione started haltingly, and immediately Ron's face grew a Cheshire grin, knowing what was to come and already relishing the rarity. Harry just sighed. "I don't know, exactly," the witch stressed, shooting a venomous look at her ginger topped housemate, "what an incubus is."

"That's okay"/"Haha!" Harry and Ron responded respectively, earning a pair of scathing looks from the bookish girl.

"Alright, alright," Harry asserted quickly, heading off anymore sidetracking before it could start. "I doubt you know what a Choiceling is either, Ron, so shut your gob and let me say my piece."

Still smirking at his female friend, Ron plopped down into a desk chair, folding his hands together on its top mockingly.

'He's been spending too much time with his brothers,' Harry thought, eyeing him and Hermione both until he was sure he'd cowed them for long enough to get through the bulk.

"To help me explain, I would like to introduce you to, brum-bru-bru-bruu~um! My Smallguide!" And with that, Bell came fluttering out of Harry's front pocket.

"Gah!" Ron cried, hiding his eyes behind suspiciously spaced fingers. "She's naked! I can see her gobbler from here!"

"Gobbler Ron? Honestly," Hermione chimed in, although she too had her eyes averted, cheeks lightly colored at the unexpected nudity.

"I told you I should've worn clothes, Master," Bell sulked, hiding her breasts and vagina from the two teens' gazes.

"Non!" Harry shouted, snapping the fairy-esk creture out of the air like a snitch. Looking her in the eyes, he continued, "You're perfect just the way you are. You said that the clothes we tried irritated your skin, and I'll not have my little cookie crumbling on account of other's unreasonably high expectations for propriety!"

"Wearing literally any clothes at all isn't that high of an expectation," Hermione chimed in monotonously.

"Don't listen to the big bad girl Belly. You can wear as much or as little as you want, okay?"

"R-right," the Smallguide agreed, moving her hands to rest on her hips, leaving her completely bare once again.

Nodding, Harry turned back to his friends, finding them slowly turning back towards him, making a point not to look at Bell too much, in Hermione's case, and ogling her bare form, in Ron's.

"So, the short and sweet of it is this: I, as a choiceling, must meet a quota of one vaginal creampie per day, lest my magic hatefully rip my body to pieces."

"I don't see how that's any different from my own self-imposed lifestyle, Harry," Ron joked, but the humor didn't quite make it to his face, too shocked was he to brush the bombshell off.

Hermione simply stifled a gasp behind her manicured fingers and waited for him to say more.

"It's a bit of a shitstorm, but here's how it works; a long line of dormant succubus genes got activated when my parents did the deed and made me, and instead of being full incubus or full wizard, I'm something somewhere in the middle, known as a Choiceling. Although," he continued, staring off a little, "it's more like the two overlap, and I draw a jagged line through- a little from column A and a little from column B, you know?"

Seeing that, no, neither of his friends did know, Harry shook his head and refocused. "Anyway, I end up in this crazy situation where, once per year, I've got to pick between two sets of strange instincts. I could've opted to go after a single, lifelong mate, whom I'd be compelled to start making babies with ASAP-"

"Oh mate, no," Ron butted in, shaking his head.

"I know, right?" Harry said, pointing at his friend. Hermione didn't seem to appreciate their exchange, but neither was she impressed with that option herself. "Instead, I chose- get it?- door number two, the one where I have to seduce and bed different women every day to keep my magic and body healthy. There are some specifics to it, but for the sake of this not taking till tomorrow morning, I'll just say that the consequences are incremental and bad with a capital B."

Hermione visibly restrained herself at that, and Ron too seemed unhappy with letting the details of Harry's potential fate go unexplained, but both kept quiet as their raven locked friend had hoped they would.

"The last thing to cover, er, well, second to last thing," he amended, remembering that he'd decided to give them a heads up about possible Lavender-induced rumors as well, "is my, and get this, sexual omnipotence."

"Sexual omnipotence?" Hermione repeated owlishly.

"Sounds like a super power, mate," Ron commented with a grin.

"Basically," Harry pushed on, his cheeks coloring a tad, "it lets me sense and discect sexual emotions. Makes it easier to find potential mates. There's also the, uh, memory perusal and, well, a few other little tricks of the trade that make seduction easier on me."

"Teach me your ways," Ron pleaded, bowing his head low with his hands clapped together above.

Ignoring the redhead once again, Hermione narrowed her eyes and asked, "Is all of this written down somewhere?"

Giving Ron a small smile, Harry looked at Hermione and nodded, saying, "I've got a little hand guide with me that helps with some stuff, but that's actually Bell's main job." Holding up a finger that the fairy did her best to balance on, Harry played the familiar game with her idly as he explained her presence and how the magic was suppose to work. In the end, Hermione still wrote down the title of the book Apolline Delacour had sent him, resolving to find a copy in the library or purchase one for herself, if need be.

When the seconds ticked by and neither of his housemates exploded, Harry ventured, "So… Well, what do you guys think?"

"I still have a lot of questions," Hermione was quick to reply. Tucking her pen and pad of paper away, she allowed her severe expression to soften as she said, "But for now, I know enough to say that I'm not upset or ashamed to have you as my friend, and that I'm happy you came to us about this. Nothing has changed," the witch asserted, smiling at Harry when he sniffled his nose.

"Well," Ron started, blinking a few times as he processed everything he'd learned that night, "yeah," he said, somewhat anticlimactically. "Pretty much what she said, and just, you know, be ready to answer a ton more questions. Oh, like who've you done it with?! Anybody I would know?"

Harry felt as though a mountainous burden had slipped from his shoulders and crashed somewhere behind him, so great was his relief. Feeling his eyes tear up, Harry sniffled again and wiped at his eyes with the back of his robe sleeve, saying, "N, nu-uh, Ron. Kissing and tell isn't cool." Moving his sleeve, Harry blasted his two friends with a megawatt smile and confessed, "I love you guys."

Ron just laughed and rubbed the back of his head, but Hermione began tearing up as well, something that had her jerking her head to the side to hide once she noticed. "There was something else," she said, wiping her eyes as she did so. "You said there was another thing you wanted to talk to us about, other than your super power," she repeated, shooting Ron a watery grin.

"Ha-ha, right," Harry laughed. "And I know this is going to sound hypocritical after what I just said, but basically I just wanted to give you guys the heads up; I did Lavender Brown on the train ride in today, and I don't know if she's gonna spill the beans or not, but I made it pretty clear to her that I'm going to be looking to make like a tree and spread my seed this year. Figured you should hear it from me in case it does get around, ne?"

"Jesus Harry!" Hermione shouted, blushing up a storm at tangible proof that he wasn't just making the whole thing up. She believed him, of course, but his casual reference to having had sex with one of her dormmates earlier that day really brought it home for the girl quick.

"I'm going to have a lot of fun with this," Ron suddenly realized aloud, smiling at Harry's confused face.

"Ronald!"

The next morning dawned bright, the Scottish sun not yet weakened by the encroaching cold too much, and Harry found himself enjoying the view from his window as he let out a yawn.

"No mate, no," Ron grumbled out, one eye weakly peeking at the world from his spot sprawled across his bed's width. "If you start yawning, then I'll start yawning, and then I'll never get up, and then I'll be expelled for truancy, and then, well, there goes my spot on the Chudley Cannons as the first keeper/chaser combo, doesn't it?"

"You're right," Harry chuckled out, closing his little species handbook and slipping it into his school robes.

"Ugh, and you're already dressed too," Ron added, shooting a disapproving look Harry's way. Adopting a lecherous grin as he spotted his pal's little blue friend sticking out the top of the covers, Ron tacked on, "But you're still not, eh? I appreciate the view, Mrs. Bell."

All Ron got from the Smallguide was incoherent mumbles as she turned around, leaving her back to him.

"Story of my life," the redhead joked, slowly extracting himself from bed.

Harry just shook his head, lost in thought.

Once his friend finished getting up and was ready, Harry slipped his still snoozing companion into his robe pocket and led the way to the common room, where they met up with Hermione before walking to breakfast together.

"So," Harry asked a little later, taking the opportunity spreading jam on his toast created to ask, "any juicy new rumors soon to be making the rounds?" He was looking at Hermione, but the odd wording of his question drew the attention of both Ron and his sister as well.

Feeling her cheeks heat up, Hermione swallowed and grugingly confirmed, "Yeah, the story of your epic sexcapade up and down the Hogwarts Express is already spreading."

Ginny spat out her milk, simultaneously getting Neville's attention and half a dozen more people's as well. "What?" she whispered out, tactful enough to keep her voice down, at least. With the way those around the group had quieted down and were leaning in though, it wasn't likely to matter.

"Nothing," Harry cut in, knowing that nothing would add credit to the rumors like a plain-English denial from the subject, not that he would actually lie about anything if confronted- that'd be less than cool towards Lavender. Still, if he wanted the news to circulate, and he did, he'd have a small part to play and he'd play it well. "Can we just get back to breakfast?"

Ron and Hermione saw through Harry like nothing, but Ginny wasn't as familiar with the boy-who-lived, and thus only reluctantly returned to her meal.

"Anyway," Neville somewhat cluelessly began, in typical Neville fashion, "the other students should be arriving here this evening, right?"

"From Beauxbatons in France and Durmstrang in Bulgaria, yes," Hermione confirmed, taking another bite of her chocolate chip waffles afterwards.

"So, are any of you going to enter a tourney? There are three to choose from, you know. Or try for the Triwizard Cup, maybe?" Neville asked.

"Of course," Ron boasted, carelessly wiping his mouth on his sleeve, "I'll be in the flying and dueling tourneys."

"But not the Triwizard Tournament?" Neville asked.

"Hmm," the red head hummed in contemplation. "Maybe, maybe not. I haven't decided yet, to be honest."

"Huh," Neville offered back. "How about you three?" the boy asked, turning his gaze on Harry, Ginny, and Hermione.

"Same as Ron," Ginny confirmed a little absent mindedly.

"I plan to sign up for the comprehension and dueling tourneys," Hermione revealed.

"Not flying?" Ron asked teasingly.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the teen but said nothing, viciously biting another wedge of waffle instead.

Nibbling on a corner of his toast, Harry distractedly mumbled, "All of 'em," too busy studying Luna's back from across the hall to pay much attention to the conversation. He'd learned some interesting new facts from his handbook earlier and thought sharing them with the girl would be a great excuse to check in on her without it being too obvious that he was worried about her treatment, now that the school year had started.

"All of them?" Neville asked incredulously. The rest of Harry's friends looked surprised as well.

"Mm," Harry hummed in confirmation, setting his toast down. It could simply be that he was too far away to see properly, but from where he was, it almost looked like somebody was picking on Luna already. Her shoulders were slumping inwards and somebody was talking to her, at the very least.

"Be right back," Harry mumbled, his eyes locked on his target.

Neville let out a confused, "Huh?" but Harry didn't notice, already standing up. He was on the wrong side of the table, but more than athletic enough to vault over it, which he did.

"Harry!" Hermione yelped, jerking to the side to make room for the mantling wizard.

"Ah," Harry let out, finally turning away from his target to spare Hermione an apologetic look. "My bad."

And with that he turned back towards the Ravenclaw table, oblivious to the looks being aimed his way by the students and staff who'd caught his little maneuver.

Walking purposely towards his petite target, Harry found his brows furrowing as he caught sight of a visible tremble in Luna's thin shoulders.

"It's honestly a wonder that you even bothered to come back this year," the lithe incubus heard as he came within spitting distance of his target. "Every year we tell you you're not welcome- that you besmirch our whole house with your presence, and every year you show up again. Are you trying to shame us, Loony?"

"That's enough," Harry cut in sharply, coming to a stop directly behind Luna. The girl gave a violent jump at his sudden presence, but the incubus merely laid his hands down on the girl's shoulders, squeezing gently. The waif-like girl craned her head back, staring up at Harry in wonder. He looked down at her, framing his face with dark locks of hair that left Luna entranced, and asked, "Will you come eat with me, please?"

Seconds passed in silence before a toothy smile slowly began to spread across the girl's face, making her look younger than Harry had ever seen her, with her full forehead showing and her eyes crinkled closed in genuine happiness.

Mirroring her smile, Harry took a step back, giving the witch space to stand from the bench. Taking her hand, Harry hastlessly led her back to the Gryffindor table, after, of course, sparing a quick moment to shoot the previously heckling Ravenclaw a black look.

Shaking her head fondly, Hermione wordlessly scooted over when Harry arrived with the smiling witch, making room for the two.

The rest of breakfast was spent introducing everybody and talking about the coming classes. Thoughts of Harry's plans to compete in all three tourney's and the Triwizard Tournament as well were pushed to the side for the time being.

"Woah!" Ron exclaimed, holding his hand in a salute over his eyes, despite the low light of the late afternoon. "Would you look at that, a real life pirate ship!"

Indeed, rising from the depths of the Black Lake, and a magical portal as well, Harry figured, was a gigantic, wooden ship, fit with massive canvas sails and a shining copper woman's statue affixed to it's bow and everything.

"The magic involved," Hermione whispered, eyes alight with that passionate look both Harry and Ron knew to fear. Clenching a fist in front of her face, Hermione began giggling softly, in that mad scientist way of hers.

"It's very pretty, isn't it Harry?" Luna asked from her spot tucked against his side, the girl having become glued to him since her abduction that morning.

"Mm," Harry replied, his eyes lightly lidded as he stood there, at the front of the gathered Hogwarts masses, his hands tucked away within his robe pockets.

'Will you be among them?' he wondered. 'My one and only?'

Aloud, he commented, "The students from Durmstrang are supposedly given lessons in the dark arts…" Allowing a vicious grin to peek through his otherwise placid expression, the hot-blooded Choiceling confessed, "I can't fucking wait to fight their duelists."

Ron grew a similar grin on his face, and Hermione's lips twitched. Luna, for her part, simply giggled and said, "You're gonna tear 'em apart!"

Harry threw a companionable arm around the slight girl's shoulders, smoothing his expression back out as the heavily cloaked ranks of the Bulgarian school marched closer.

A thunderous neighing abruptly sounded from above, drawing the gazes of the assembled Hogwarts students and the stilling Durmstrang horde as well.

"Goodness," rumbled Hagrid, the massive groundskeeper and Care of Magical Creatures professor from a handful of students away.

Harry shared the friendly professor's awe, looking almost straight up to study the elephantine horses above, their angelic wings beating the air down with elegance and power. They were arranged almost like sleigh dogs, in six rows of two, their cargo a carriage the size of Hogwart's great Hall, sailing through the air as gracefully as the beasts hauling it.

"So pretty," Luna said in awe.

"They are," Hermione seconded, admiring the royal white coat of the massive Abraxan.

"I bet the French girls they're hauling are prettier," Ron joked, earning a sharp elbow from Hermione and a conspiring grin from Harry.

Once the flying horses had finished looping around the amassed students and staff, they began their descent, dipping their massive wings low and aiming for the long flat of the Black Lake's beach. Quicker than seemed safe, the massive creatures touched down, kicking up hundreds of pounds of sand as they tore great furrows into the ground below, effectively slowing their cargo to a halt long before their granular landing strip ran out.

"I hope they fly as good as their horses," Ron chimed in, an arrogant grin tugging at his lips- the gesture somehow looking good on the teen.

"I read that Beauxbatons produces more professional spell crafters than any other school in the world, and that they consistently claim the number one position in Charms NEWTs as well," Hermione said. Wetting her lips, the bright witch added, "They'll be the ones to beat in the Comprehension Tourney."

"And you're the one to beat them," Ron claimed, earning a blinding smile from the usually serious witch.

Watching as a fancy wrought iron staircase unrolled from beneath the carriage's door, Harry's eyes widened as a woman, at least a head and a half taller than Hagrid, who himself already stood at an impressive eleven plus feet tall, stepped out. As she descended the staircase gracefully, a stream of powder-blue clad French students began spilling from the doorway as well, trailing after what Harry had to guess was the illustrious school's headmistress.

With the spectacle seemingly over, the Hogwarts student body began filing back inside, partially of their own violation, partially at the behest of the teachers and staff.

Successfully herding the first through seventh years back into the Great Hall, the Hogwarts staff reclaimed their seats, out of usual order though they were. Indeed, they were spaced quite differently than usual, with the table having been enlarged to accommodate the school's guests. The Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables too had been elongated, flanking their Gryffindor and Hufflepuff counterparts on both sides.

It was at these tables the visiting students were sat, Beauxbatons' French students sitting with the Ravenclaw house and Durmstrang with the Slytherins.

Already sat down with the rest of his Gryffindor housemates and friends, Harry was about to start in on the odd, foreign food, as Headmaster Dumbledore'd just suggested, when a shock of silver-blonde hair in his spoon's reflection grabbed his attention.

Turning around in his seat, the wizard saw, there, sat facing his way at the Ravenclaw table, was Gabrielle Delacour. To her side was who must have been her sister, for all that the two looked alike, save for the obvious age gap. The older of the duo had her head dipped low to Gabrielle's ear, hiding whatever she was whispering to her with a flawless hand. Both of the French veela were looking his way.

Realizing she'd been spotted, Gabrielle gave a shy smile and wave to Harry, who simply flashed a smile and peace sign back. The moment ended when Gabrielle's sister stood up and, despite the younger veela's confused look, walked around the Ravenclaw table, making her way towards the dark haired incubus. Catching on quick, the younger veela scrambled out of her seat as well, but by then her older sister had already made it to Harry, who was now sitting with his back to the food, having turned around to study her approach.

Giving the stunning creature stood mere feet from him an appreciative once-over, Harry returned his gaze to her's, cocking his head in silent askance.

"'Arry Potter?" she ventured softly.

"Yes?" he replied.

Fisting her hands at her sides, unmindful of the audience she'd attracted, Gabrielle's sister cleared her throat and said, clearly, "My name eez Fleur Delacour." Bending sharply at the waist, the alluring veela bowed low and formally to the lounging incubus, her hair hiding her face as she continued with, "Zank you for saving my sister's life. I am formally indebted to you."

Murmurs sprang up from the gawking student body, and even the staff seemed to be paying attention to the exchange.

"Of course," Harry replied warmly, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.

Fleur remained in her differential pose.

"Hmm?" Harry inquisitively hummed, looking to Gabrielle, who'd come to a stop just behind and to the side of her sister's still bowing form. "This a veela thing, Gabby?" he asked flippantly.

Reddening in anger, the pint sized witch ground out, "Did you not read ze book we sent you?" Stopping the Choiceling from answering with a shake of her head, Gabrielle just said, in French,"She said she's formally indebted to you, stupid. Formally recognize it!"

"Right, right," Harry sighed out, standing up from the bench. "Mrs. Delacour," he began in the veela's native tongue. Bringing a hand to his chest to show his genuineness, Harry closed his eyes and politely said, "You are very welcome. If the day comes when I have need of you, I will call. Please, stand up now, and eat with me and my friends."

Finally coming out of her bow, Fleur allowed a beautiful smile to briefly occupy her face before toning the expression down to a pleasant curve of the corners of her lips.

"Zank you," she said simply, claiming the spot the boy wizard had cleared for her with a look. Before she could settle in, Fleur found herself having to scoot further from Harry, Gabrielle strong arming her way between the two, shooting a warning look Harry's way as she did.

"And here's my favorite little princess," Harry cooed, mussing Gabrielle's silken head gently.

Most of the surrounding Gryffindor's, along with a few students from the other tables as well, looked on, puzzled.

"'Ands off," Gabrielle muttered, blushing.

Harry obliged, smiling down at the girl, unreasonably happy to have her next to him.

Ducking her head at the boy's attention, the veela teen ignored her sister's chuckles and instead bit out, "Well? Are you going to introduce us to your friends or not? And pass the bouillabaisse, it almost looks edible and I know Fleur will want some."

"Right away," Harry mocked with a smile, familiarizing Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Luna, and the rest with the two, and vice versa, all while ladle-ing out a nice serving of the seafood dish to a huffy Gabrielle. By then the bulk of the nosy eavesdroppers had turned away, sensing that the drama was over.

Stealing a bite of shrimp from Gabrielle's bowl, and earning himself pursed lips from the girl that ended in a sigh, Harry smiled and asked, "How have you been? There was something the other day that reminded me of you."

"I've-" Gabrielle began, before sparing a considering look at Harry's friends, most of whom had remained silent after being introduced. "Ahem, zat is to say, I've been well. Ze rest of ze summer went by quickly." Cocking her head to the side, the veela shyly asked, "What was eet, the thing that reminded you of me?"

"Some chili I ate," Harry revealed teasingly. "It was very spicy."

"J-jerk!" the little veela accused, shooting a quick punch at the grinning incubus's ribs.

Letting out an, "Oof!" Harry just smiled wider and said, "Don't be that way, Gabby. I like spicy."

Suddenly, or perhaps only seeming so because he'd been so quiet till then, Ron let out a low whistle, looking back and forth between Harry and the little French schoolgirl at his side a few times.

For some reason, this brought a healthy flush of color to Harry's cheeks and neck.

"You two seem quite cozy, eh?" Ron commented with bouncing eyebrows, leaving Harry to shrug and Gabrielle to sputter.

Frowning lightly, Hermione, to Ron's side, very pointedly asked, "Harry?"

Her eyes, however, seemed to ask the young wizard, 'what do you think you're doing?' to which Harry answered, somewhat defensively, "Gabby and I had a bit of a chat a while back- talked about what her being a veela meant and other such things."

Hermione, recognizing Harry's stubborn mode when she saw it, just raised her hands up in surrender, leaving it be.

"Hmm," Ginny hummed.

A few minutes went by as the assembled group talked and ate leisurely, making sure to include the newer additions as much as possible in true Gryffindor fashion.

"Harry," Luna began eventually, finally done wolfing down her plate full of fried, tentacled creatures, "have you taken care of that thing you have to do yet, for today?"

"Luna!" Hermione scolded, shooting wary glances at those few still outside the loop.

"Huh?" Neville asked cluelessly, while Ginny simply narrowed her eyes.

Gabrielle's cheeks colored, but she failed to react beyond that, something Ron and Hermione picked up on.

"Mm-hm," Harry hummed affirmatively, swallowing another mouthful of poached bouillabaisse. "I'm going to let my dinner settle a little and hunt down a prefect later anyway though. I don't have class until noon tomorrow and I want to sleep in a little."

"Are you talking about…" Fleur ventured, able to look directly at Harry over her sister's head.

"Oh?" Harry purred, leaning heavily on Gabrielle to be closer to Fleur. "Why do you ask mademoiselle?"

A fraction of a second passed.

"Ah-ta-ta!" Harry hissed out as the little veela he was leaning into seized his bottom lip in a pinch. Having little choice but to go where she wanted him, Harry found himself awkwardly hunched over at eye level with Gabrielle.

The girl had a serious look plastered on her face, but Harry caught sight of something beneath it as she said, "Non. Not my seester, 'Arry."

Blinking slowly at her, Harry's face lost its playful expression and his eyes furrowed. He looked deeply into the veela's big blue orbs, but after a long moment, averted his gaze, not finding what he was looking for. Reaching up, he pulled her fingers from his lip, hiding a wince when her expression crumbled.

"Excuse me," Harry said to the table, standing up and leaving without another word.

"What was that all about?" Neville asked, though he didn't get an answer.

Multiple sets of confused eyes followed Harry's back as he left, but only one pair shined with unshed tears.

"Fucking idiot," Harry whispered to himself. It was late, but he had yet to make it up to bed. His bare chest was still wet with beaded sweat, evidence of his most recent conquest. She'd been a seventh year prefect without any stand-out kinks, fresh off a breakup and looking for a meaningless shag.

Harry hadn't really been in the mood, too distracted to really get into it, but he'd managed to send her packing with a smile and a healthy limp all the same. Now it was just him, resting outside on his discarded robe, talking to the stars and Bell, who let him vent silently like she knew he wanted to.

"What is it about that girl?" Harry wondered. More than that, he was upset that he'd been so offended by her request, which had been perfectly reasonable in retrospect. "I don't even know if I'm mad that she honestly thought I'd go after her sister, or just pissed at being told no."

Not shifting in any significant way, it was still somehow clear that his next words were directed at Bell.

"I," he began almost sullenly, never one to enjoy having his shortcoming pointed out, much less to admit them aloud himself. "I haven't been told no in a while, Bell," the incubus admitted. "When I was smaller, I was rarely given anything, as you know."

Bell just fluttered over, resting on Harry's sternum while he laid back.

"It was all I ever heard, 'No this,' 'No that,' 'No everything'." Sighing, he continued, "Recently though, it's like I've been floating on a cloud. If I want a woman, then she's mine, no ifs ands or butts, it's just the way the world works. Fire is hot, the Malfoys are cunts, and Choicelings are the winners of life's lottery, except it's not like that after all."

"I still think that the Malfoys are a bunch of cunts, Master," Bell joked, drawing a chuckle from Harry.

"Yeah," the forest-eyed incubus agreed. "But my point still stands; up till now, there hasn't been a single negative aspect to my heritage. I feel like I have something tying me and mom together, I can have practically any woman I want, and even my friends are okay with everything."

"But," Bell said pointedly.

"But," Harry agreed, "now, I can't ignore the fact that I've grown a big head, always getting my way. One part of me wants to be upset with Gabby for thinking I'd ever sleep with her sister, but another part of me wants to knock on Fleur's door right now and see how long a veela can last."

Reaching a grasping hand up, towards the starry sky, Harry whispered, "I almost wish I didn't have the option; that I didn't have to worry about deciding who I should and shouldn't fuck. Fleur? Ginny? Hermione? I'd be lying if I said I haven't thought about taking each of them…"

Clenching his fist, Harry sighed again and closed his eyes, lowering his arm to his side. He stayed like that, silently thinking while Bell just dozed between his pectorals.

It wasn't till the sun had begun to rise, hours and hours later, that Harry finally opened his eyes again, and smiled. Drifting in and out of sleep, the conflicted incubus had come to a decision he thought he could live with, and figured sharing it with Bell was only fair, seeing as how she'd been such a great listener for him.

"Master?" the Parva Dux murmered, fluttering her blue eyelids as she tried to wake up, Harry's slowly nudging finger helping as well.

"Hey Belly, I wanted your opinion on something," Harry explained, still shirtless beneath the blue-black sky.

"Hmm?" she hummed in askance, pulling herself into a sitting position where she started rubbing her eyes.

"Well, I was thinking about stuff, and I learned something- there isn't some magical, golden rule that's going to help me out of this, at least as far as I can see."

"Master," Bell began, but stopped when she sensed that Harry hadn't gotten to the point yet.

"But that's okay, you see? Instead, I realized that I'm never going to figure out how to handle each and every situation that crops up on my own, and that it's not really fair to try. In the end, I've decided that the best way to deal with everything is to talk to people. If I can learn what they want, and see what decisions they make when given all the info, then I can make decisive, guilt free choices as well."

Quieting in shame, Harry admitted, "I've been being so selfish, it was actually a hassle for me to realize the answer was as simple as asking what other people wanted…" Shaking his head, Harry sat up a little, bracing his weight with his arms. "At least with the people I care about, it's only right that I let them know what kind of beast they're dealing with, give them the chance to decide what they want- starting with my little firecracker- and her milky big sis as well." Looking down at Bell, Harry winked and said, "I'm an incubus, and I'm going to fuck whoever I want unless they themselves ask me not to. Being up-front with my intentions and giving them the option is the key, I'm sure of it now."

Bell's lips parted in wonder, the Smallguide finding herself taken with her bonded's insight. Leaning back on his chest similarly to how he was on his robe, Bell looked up at the stars, thankful to have been born to such a thoughtful boy.

Harry and his Parva Dux watched the sky lighten for another half hour before the incubus re-robed and headed inside, ready to shower and sleep, but determined to put his plan into action the moment he woke up.

There was a pair of veela he needed to have an interesting conversation with, after all, and it just wouldn't do to open that can of worms in the stinky, exhausted form he was in.

As it was, Harry snuck back into the castle in much higher spirits than he'd snuck out of it in.