When Harry Met Gabi

Chapter Two: Gabrielle

Gabrielle

It had been a long time since I'd been impressed by Harry Potter. Perhaps that's not the right choice of word. He has always, undeniably, been impressive, at least in the more literal sense of the word. The Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, the teenager who defeated the Dark Lord, twice... he certainly left his mark.

But when I was younger, that's all I saw him as: a superhero, a celebrity, a boy who gave up glory to pull me from a danger that didn't really exist. I didn't see him as a person with his own flaws and feelings. I didn't really see him as a human being. Almost three decades later, it was harder to ignore that humanity. The years had left him with flecks of grey around his temples, lines etched across his forehead and around his eyes, a slight paunch that he obviously tried his best to suck in.

But watching him charge across the barn, wand raised, the Weasley-Grangers just behind him, I caught a glimpse of the one-dimensional warrior I thought I knew when I was a girl. And I found myself feeling... impressed, yes. And something more than that, too. Something I couldn't put my finger on.

His gin and tonic sat on the bar, ice cubes melting. Those idiots from the Mather League had fled, and Harry's middle child had led a grateful round of applause. Ginny rushed towards him, a mixture of pride and concern in her face, quickly followed by their other son and daughter. He glanced towards me once, a half-apologetic smile on his face, but in all the chaos I was soon forgotten.

'You're here!'

I glanced up and found myself looking at a face not unlike my own: a little older, a little prettier, with longer hair and smiling red lips. My sister kissed me on both cheeks and squeezed my hands.

'I'm so happy you came!' Fleur said, a slight English inflection to her French after so long away from home. 'When did you get here? Have you spoken to Teddy and Adam yet?'

Despite the fact we lived in other countries, Fleur had spent the past two years trying to cajole me back into wizarding society. Tonight was her first small success. I'd only met Teddy once, when he was around fifteen and dating Victoire, and I barely remembered his parents. But the thought of a night alone in Fleur and Bill's house, at the kitchen table where I'd fed Laila, on the sofa where Mounir and I had watched my nieces debut their short-lived wizard rock band... even a night of small talk was more bearable than that.

'I only arrived a few minutes ago.' I picked up my drink, then realised I'd finished it. I took a long sip of Harry's instead. 'Just in time for the Mather League's performance.'

Fleur rolled her eyes, as if the men were two unruly teenagers acting out and not aspiring terrorists. It took a lot to shake my sister. Even now, people underestimated Fleur. They saw a girlish, willowy woman in pastel colours and saw meekness, fragility; they couldn't imagine that she'd battled dragons and death eaters.

'Idiots. It's going forever to wipe all the muggles' memories of this. Still, could have been worse. At least no one got hurt.' She took the glass from my hand and set it down on the bar. 'Come on, I'll take you to see Teddy.'

We weaved through the tables, Fleur stopping every so often to compliment Luna's headdress or ask after Hermione's parents. I found my eyes wandering back to Harry. He was talking to Ron, his daughter still tucked under one arm in a hug. Lily must have been a teenager by now, but she was clinging onto Harry like a little girl.

Without warning, a lightning bolt of pain ripped through me. I looked away quickly and realised Fleur was now talking to the newlyweds. I barely recognised Teddy from the teenager I'd met a few years ago. Like his mother, he was a metamorphmagus: the spiky green hair had been replaced by a head of dark curls with purple tips, and his eyes were a pale violet.