章 7: Gabrielle ?

"Hey," Harry tried, settling a hand on her nightshirt covered shoulder, trying to shake her awake as gently as possible. "Come on," he coaxed softly, rubbing the girl's back. "Wake up sweetheart, it's time to get out of here and find your family."

"Nnmmg, Mama?" the petite girl called out faintly, shifting on the ground as if to get up, before crying out, "Ah!", as she shifted her ankle.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked in concern, leaning back on his knees to give the girl some space.

Whipping her head towards him from the ground at his words, the girl, who Harry decided was pretty like he'd never known, upon seeing her face properly, let out a startled shriek.

"Woah!" Harry began soothingly, holding his empty hands up in a sign of peace. "Its okay," he went on to insist, nodding towards the unconscious and restrained men off to the side, "you're safe now. I'm not gonna hurt you."

"Qui êtes-vous- ma famille, où-" the girl began demanding, her sweet voice thick with fear despite Harry's best efforts, when she suddenly cut herself off. Screwing her face up, she repeated, slowly, in English this time, "'Ere eez my familee?"

'French,' Harry thought, bemused, idly noting that the questioning lilt the girl used at the end of her sentence was certifiably adorable.

"Um," Harry tried, pushing his growing crush to the wayside in favor of trying to help the lost teen. "I'll help you look for them and stuff, but I don't actually know. I got separated from my group as well, so, you see… Uh…" Harry trailed off, seeing that few, if any, of his words were reaching the girl, who was frowning in concentration and had an ear angled towards him.

"Master," Bell suddenly called, breaking the dawning silence and startling the two teens.

"Bell!?" Harry asked quickly, shooting the pintsized fairy a scolding look, which quickly had the blue servant bowing her head.

" M'sorry Master, but… Well, she's a veela, and I'm born polylinguistic, and I had just thought that, I could maybe teach you French real quick…"

Harry scowled at his own harshness before petting Bell on her head, offering up an apologetic smile and asking, "You mean like, with a spell?"

Lifting her chin back up with a radiant smile, and leaning her head into Harry's pampering hand, Bell chirped, "Mhmm! Just a peck on the lips and you're good to go Master!"

Raising an eyebrow at the atypical casting technique, Harry spared a quick look at his golden-silver haired rescuee, who was staring open-mouthed at the boy wizard's Smallguide, before nodding his consent to Bell.

Buzzing her butterfly-like wings at hummingbird speeds, Bell precisely flew her way up, till her lips were even with her bonded Choiceling's. Placing her delicate hands on his lips, Bell leaned forward and gently kissed her master, her tiny blue lips landing on his smiling pink ones, although with the size difference, she wound up kissing his bottom lip more than his top.

"Pouvez-vous me comprendre, Maître?" Bell asked, smiling as she brushed her tiny fingers over her tingling lips.

"Yes, I understand you perfectly!" Harry answered in French, a look of wonderment stealing across his face at the new magic. "This is amazing, Bell! What other magic do you know?"

However, remembering the injured girl laying in front of him, Harry applied the breaks on his enthusiastic interrogation. Rewarding Bell with one more fond petting, Harry refocused himself, and asked the girl, "Are you okay? I don't know where your parents are, but I can help you look, if you'd like. I'm Harry, by the way."

"Gabrielle," the girl responded, her tone warmer now that she could converse in her native language. "Did you do that?" she asked, looking over at the still knocked out duo, snoozing away in their thick leather straitjackets.

"Yeah," Harry answered, nodding. "Dumbasses were too busy gloating over you to fight back properly- kept going on about how lucky they were to 'bag' a veela. Come to think of it," Harry added, cocking his head and appraising the girl more closely, "Bell called you that too. And the mascots at the game… Is that why you're so pretty?"

Gabrielle blushed and averted her eyes, defensively answering, in a halting voice, "P-pardon me!? Veela are more than just pretty faces, you know! As an incubus yourself, you should appreciate the fact that-"

"Wait!" Harry interrupted, sharing a quick, weary look with Bell. "How'd you know I'm an incubus?"

Frowning at being interrupted, which Harry distantly noted looked cute on the pouty girl's face, Gabrielle huffily replied, "Well, you've got a Parva Dux, for one. Kind of a dead giveaway that you're a Choiceling right there, you know? Plus, my allure feels… odd, with you around. You not having a tail or wings, and doing wand magic, also shows that you're obviously not a normal incubus."

"Allure?" Harry asked questioningly, before a soft groan to his side drew his attention sharply.

Snapping up, Harry stabbed his wand towards the bound men, applying another batch of "Stupefy!" 's harshly. Walking over and snatching up their wands as well, for added insurance, Harry said, "Are you okay to walk, Gabrielle? We should start looking for your family- and probably see about letting some aurors know about these losers as well."

The girl nodded, wincing as she tried to find her legs, only to give up in a whimper.

"My ankle," she confessed, moisture beginning to gather in her eyes. Still, the prideful girl didn't ask for the young incubus's help.

Luckily for her, Harry was more than flexible enough to accommodate her ego. Crouching down, Harry settled a hand on the upset girl's head, giving her silken tresses a slight ruffle as she glared impotently at him. Still, the petite veela's wobbly smile, which she didn't quite manage to hide, showed her true colors.

Suddenly looking like nothing more than a beautiful, lost girl, who wanted, more than anything, to be reunited with her parents, Harry revealed to the French teen his most genuine smile, not bothering to remove his hand from her small head. Heartened to see her relax, Harry just said, "Come on. Lets see if we can't figure out where everybody went, okay?"

Getting an affirmative nod from the now calmer looking girl, Harry turned around, still crouched, and called for the girl to wrap her arms around his neck.

Shifting as high as she could, Gabrielle reached up, snaking her thin, cool arms around the boy wizard's warm neck, letting out a soft sigh as the chill that had settled into her bones began to fade.

In a smooth motion, that agitated his precious French cargo as little as possible, Harry stood, flashing his hands back to hook beneath the clutching girl's thighs. Adjusting his grip on the petite girl's cotton covered legs, and swallowing hard in an effort to alleviate the sudden soreness supporting the girl's weight had caused in his throat, Harry softly asked, "Comfy?"

Getting an irritated sigh, but also a nod that caused the girl's hair, which was dangling down around him like a waterfall, to tickle his neck, Harry just smiled and began his smooth trek back, noticing the bite of the clutching thorns lining the clearing more this time, but still not sparing much attention to them, save to make sure his veela companion's legs passes through unscathed.

Back on the not-quite-a-path-but-close-enough, Harry took care to step over the numerous roots peppering the way, determined to see his impromptu charge back to safety unscathed. However, for an athletic, perceptive teen like Harry, walking at a smooth, steady pace was braindead easy, roots and rocks or no. Confident that he wouldn't suddenly drop Gabrielle, Harry decided to strike up a conversation with the girl on his back.

"So," Harry began, smiling as the young French witch settled her dainty jaw atop his bedhead, "you seem to know enough about incubuses to spot one right away, but I don't know anything about veela… I don't mean to be rude or anything, but could you fill me in? I only recently discovered my heritage, so I'm really curious to hear all about what other kinds of magical beings there are."

The girl was silent for a few companionable seconds before she spoke up, seemingly deciding it admirable that Harry was eager to learn.

"Hmm, well, where to start… Veela are identical to wizards, when male, and still very similar to witches, even when female. Female veela, however, possess a unique sexual magic talent, similar to a succubus's, called an allure. The difference is, while you can access a potential mate's sexuality and instinctually act on that knowledge, veela have the ability to amplify the attraction those of the opposite sex feel for them. It can be a bit of a hassle to control though…" Gabrielle revealed, tightening her legs around her incubus escort's hips a touch, recognizing the rare magical specimen carrying her as the superior lover his kind was. While a veela's allure was typically used as a supplementary tool, helping the female court a male of her choosing and aiding in ensuring their union's longevity, incubuses, and their female counterparts, were both specialized for raw sex, and were otherworldly talented at their trade. She knew that, should he wish it, the boy carrying her could weasel his way into her pajamas and fuck her raw, right there, and by the end of it she'd be the happiest witch alive. The thought gave her goose pimples.

"Wow," Harry said, surprised to hear of another group of magical beings with sexual magic almost as potent as his own. "That's pretty cool, bein' able to get someone randy with just a thought. I think I still prefer my way, though," Harry confessed, egged on by the girl's factual manner of speaking and apparent high comfort level with the mature subject material, resolving to be frank as well. "It's pretty fun," he continued, "figuring out the best way to get my 'prey' all hot and bothered." Sniggering at the funny terminology, Harry still sheepishly admitted, "But for real, I see the girls I'm with more as special friends than anything."

Interested to hear more, both intellectually and personally, Gabrielle asked, "I thought you were suppose to have a life partner? Or is it different because you're a Choiceling? I remember something about two sets of instincts? There's a big old book at my grand-maman's house that's all about the different magical beings there are, and I remember reading about incubuses and Choicelings, but I don't quite recall the specifics…"

Rolling his eyes at the girl's silent demand that he fill in the blanks in her memory, Harry casually said, after stepping over a particularly sharp looking rock, "Basically, if I'd chosen my incubus instincts, I would've been compelled to dedicate myself to a single girl, though who would still be up to me, and get her pregnant." Hearing the girl above him let out an, "Eep!", Harry smiled and continued. "That's one of the differences between a Choiceling and a regular incubus, by the way, getting to choose a mate. Anyway, there's another set of instincts; my altered human, or, uh, wizard set, I guess, that I could choose, which I did. Till my next birthday, when I'll have to choose again, I have to have sex at least once per day, with different girls." Hearing the petite girl gasp out in surprise, Harry nodded, saying, "I know, crazy, right? Still, it's not like I'm complaining, and it's dead-easy getting girls to let me fuck them anyway. And besides, once I do fall in love, it'll just be a matter of time till I can commit myself, so in a way, it's the best of both worlds!"

Gabrielle, beyond her shock and embarrassment at the ridiculous lifestyle the boy below her maintained, past her incredulity at his blasé attitude toward it all, and under the faintest stabs of jealousy she felt at how at ease with himself her savior was, Gabrielle felt admiration take root in her heart. She, with the love and understanding of her entire family to help her along, and all of her life to adjust to being different, still hadn't reached the level of self-acceptance the Choiceling carrying her had, and in such a short time, too. Gabrielle could tell that it wasn't bravado talking when he said that he had accepted his imposed lot in life, and that kind of optimism was very alluring to the young veela. For all that she displayed an outward face of confidence, beneath her pretty pale skin, swimming in her dark blue eyes, was an insistent leech of insecurity, sucking away at the pride she had in herself.

Turning her head, till her cheek rested atop the boy wizard's messy mop of hair, and encircling her arms around his neck in more of a hug and less of a grip, Gabrielle whispered, "It's really cool, you know, that you're so okay with being different. Veela," she went on to say, appreciating the attentive silence Harry afforded her, "tend to have a bit of a… reputation. You won't be able to tell unless I focus it on you 'cause you're an incubus, but even just the ambient allure we tend to put out can make monkeys out of men. Even though we are, by nature, almost perfectly chaste and monogamous, the effect we have on the majority of males, usually those of weak will or self-restraint, leaves us to be regarded as- as, well," she stumbled, and while Harry though the word she was looking for was 'sluts', the petite veela avoided using vulgarity by saying, "as scarlet women. Needless to say, the female population tends towards holding veela in contempt as well. It's, well, it's basically the same kind of reactions your kind tend to garner for themselves, just with the genders flipped, although in your case…" Here, she trailed off, afraid to offend her kindly knight in shining pajamas.

"But," Harry picked up, smiling wryly, though still thinking over her previous words, "in my case, I actually am casually fucking oodles of chicks, and the threat of me blasting some bloke's girlfriend full of cum is a serious one."

Suddenly redder than a ripe tomato, Gabrielle screeched her indignation and began pulling at Harry's hair with her dainty fists, squawking, "You vulgar ape! Uncultured swine! You are in the presence of a lady, apologize!"

"Ah! Ouch, will you stop that!" Harry wined, wincing and laughing at the same time as the young veela riding him tugged on his lengthy charcoal locks. "I surrender, I surrender! Forgive me, Your Grace, haha, Gabby stop that!" Harry said, in stitches, though his smiling face took on a ting of embarrassment when he let out an involuntary snort.

"Hehehe!" the slight girl draped over his back giggled, doubling over with her cheek pressing down against Harry's tousled hair hard as her body quivered in delighted amusement. "You really are a pig!" she joked, turning her head to burry her smiling face into the boy's bedhead.

"Oi!" Harry squawked, smiling amusement painting his face and voice, corrupting his indignation. "I happen to be a proper English Choiceling, you know? If anything, I'm at least a noble steed, hoofing your ladyness around."

Gabrielle just continued giggling into his hair, and a grinning Harry decided to leave it, seeing the path's end approaching quickly.

"Gabrielle! Gabrielle! Sweetie, where are you!?" a woman's cry rang out from somewhere beyond the end of the tree line suddenly, tears and distress thickening her wailing voice. "Baby, come out, please!"

"Maman!" Gabrielle called out, tightening her hold around Harry's neck as he picked up his pace, lightly jogging towards where the voice had come from. "Maman, over here maman!"

"Gabrielle?!" the woman cried back, and as Harry jogged out of the last line of thick trees, entering into view of the woman and the other half-dozen people she was with, she cried again, this time sounding almost sick with relief, "Gabrielle!"

"Maman!" the petite veela on Harry's back cried again, and this time the Choiceling heard tears in her voice, which began landing softly in his messy hair a second later.

Harry's slow jog met the woman's rapid sprint somewhere in the open field within a few seconds, and the instant she came within grabbing distance, the woman, who Harry had a brief second to note was more beautiful than any he'd met before, opened her womanly arms wide and clasped both Gabrielle and Harry to her bosom.

Crying out in shaky relief, the woman, Gabrielle's mother, rained sloppy kisses down on her daughter's face, clutching at the back of the girl's head desperately.

A red faced Harry, sandwiched between two comely veela as he was, oddly found naught a single perverse thought running through his head. Instead, his blushing form was due to the sheer love being shown from mother to daughter and then back again. Feeling that nothing should stand between such a distraught parent and their child, he also fidgeted a bit in awkwardness, since that's what he was literally doing.

However, his shifting had the unintentional consequence of reminding the adult veela of his presence, and in the next instant, Gabrielle's mother was cupping his face, pressing sweet, thankful kisses down onto his cheeks and forehead.

A weak, but sudden, rush of lust surged through Harry's rapidly beating heart and into his veins.

"Non, Maman!" Gabrielle cried, sliding her own small hands down to cover Harry's eyes and mouth, leaving his nose poking out from between her soft-but-sure grip to breath somewhat heavily, half from his jog and half from slowly draining allure-induced lust.

"Gabrielle?" the young veela's mother asked, confused, at the same time a muffled, "Mmnn!" hummed out beneath her hand.

Gabrielle freed the Choiceling's mouth, but made no move to retract the hand keeping his eyes covered, which Harry rolled as he said, still in French, "Gabby, seriously, have a little faith, will you? I'm not just gonna jump your mum's bones- gak!" he cried out, wincing as the little veela on his back lightly dug her pointer finger into his closed eye. "I swear, I'm gonna throw you into a freaking lake!" Harry gloomily sulked, before continuing, "Like I was saying, if anybody can handle themselves under an allure, its gonna be a-gak! Again, my eye, why!?" Harry wined out, finally beginning to grow tired of the girl's abuse.

"Shh," Gabrielle insisted, removing her hand from the Choiceling's eyes. "The others are coming."

Stiffening in sudden understand, Harry gave his cargo's legs a grateful squeeze, thankful to not have revealed his heritage accidentally, and zipped his lips, offering the confused woman in front of him a strained smile but no more.

"What's going on here?" an auror, tall and broad chested, though otherwise rather plain-looking, and garbed in the heroic crimson robes that advertised his station as magical law enforcement, asked, shooting Harry and his veela companion suspicious looks.

Both of the French veela ignored the inconsiderate wizard, save to shoot him brief glares at his tone, leaving Harry to sigh and begin explaining, in English now, "Yes sir, well, you see, I had managed to get separated-"

But the young incubus was interrupted by the man, when he shouted, "Bloody hell, you're Harry Potter!"

Feeling the girl on his back shift slightly in surprise, and seeing her mother and the rest of the assembled adults, none of whom he knew, and who weren't wearing auror robes, check his forehead, and then recoil slightly, Harry simply deadpanned, "Nice to meet you."

"You didn't tell me you were Harry Potter!" the girl on his back complained. Harry felt a frown slipping over his features in anticipation of the standard, 'Oh my! An honor! Blah-blah-blah,' but found his expression quickly morphing to a wince as his hair was pulled again, and the indignant teenage veela on his back deadpanned, like he had a mere moment ago, "Well there goes thatcrush. Thanks, Harry, my childhood is now ruined."

Powerless to resist an unexpectedly powerful rush of pleasantly-surprised happiness welling within him, Harry leaned his head back, still with Gabrielle's dainty hands gripping his hair, although no longer painfully, and beamed an upside-down smile up at the girl's close, suddenly red face.

"I-idiot," the petite veela whispered, turning her head in embarrassment. "Did you really expect me to care?" she went on to ask, false-scathingly, with an undercurrent of warmth in her voice that was nigh-undetectable.

"I like you," Harry said plainly, smiling again at the further-flushing girl as she spluttered in surprise.

"Like I said," she whispered softly, angling his head back towards their company manually with her fisted hands, "idiot."

Unable to keep the megawatt smile off of his face, which he was surprised to find was actually blushing a fair bit, Harry switched back to English and said, to the one flabbergasted veela as well as the confused, non-French speaking adults next to her, "So, you were asking for an explanation?"

The flushed veela on his back hid her face in the Choiceling's hair at the odd look her mother was shooting her. Wrestling her allure back under control, after all, was not something to do with half a head.

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First of all, I'd like to quickly thank all of my readers, especially those that left reviews and/or favorited Incubus, for taking the time to show their support for this fic. In other news, I'd like to quickly assure you all that, while the Harry/Gabby romance will receive a good deal of attention in Incubus, the smutty smut-smut shall remain. Some crazy stuff is headed Harry's way at Hogwarts, rest assured. Still, I want this to be a fic for the ages, and a romantic yin is needed to help carry the smutty yang. It is my hope that the length, depth, and kinkiness of the many lemons that will be calling Incubus home shall be enough to convince those opposed to the romance to stick around, and also, for the exact to hold true. Thank you for reading, make sure to favorite, follow, and review, and I will see you all next time. Peace!