The five families
The pages were well-loved. They were soft to the touch, like fine silk beneath the pads of her fingers. The cover, a carefully made leather, bound precisely at the edges with a golden string. The book was pure magic and it swirled around Hermione, poking pointedly at her magical core, feeling around for something before calming and settling over her in a smooth blanket like a waterfall.
Hermione was in her back corner of the library, hidden away just behind the restricted section. It was rare that she would be bothered here, one of the only truly private places for her to read this.
Opening the cover, she read the title again: Hidden History of the Veela: Culture, tradition, magic, and the five noble families.
Hermione had always had a deep love for books but she could tell this one was something else entirely. Something truly special.
At first, the yellowed parchment was empty but, before her very eyes, elegant inked scrawl began to slowly fill the page.
For those who are, for those who love, and for those who were lost, it read, we humbly present the secrets, the stories, and the history of the proud Veela.
At the request of the ancient power, please present your tie to proceed.
While she was unsure of what the book meant by a “tie,” her response was instinctual. It wasn’t anything she could physically do or describe, but, as she felt the book’s magic once again probe her own, she opened herself too it, accepting the familiarity of it and standing strong in the face of seemingly vast and ancient power. She felt the probe, harsh at first, soften considerably as it cut through layer and layer of her shell like a knife through butter. She felt a warm sensation fill her, like molten chocolate filling her insides and she smiled. The book must have been happy with what it found for, without her moving, its page flipped to a new blank sheet and slowly an intricate family tree began to sketch itself onto the page followed by another and another until five trees forming a circle took up the space.
The five noble families. A title in brilliant script scrawled across the page.
A deep voice resonated in her head as her mind was absorbed into the drawings presented to her.
“The five noble families of the Veela,” the voice spoke, rich and deep and calm in her head. “Long ago, before witches and wizards, before the werewolves and centaurs and creatures of the forest, a deep and noble magic, an ancient magic today but it was young at the time, stumbled across five orphan girls in the woods. They were the best of friends, the girls, whose names were lost to time, but they were alone and frightened and lost. The ancient power, which usually would have not looked twice, was stalled by these girls and paused on its endless progression to watch them play and live. It had not expected what it saw. The girls were each kind and clever, but they each also excelled in traits in a way the magic had not seen before. The youngest of them was beautiful, but not just your normal beauty. She was so beautiful that even the beauties of the earth bowed in her path. The next seemed to know all, she could tell what her friends needed before they needed it and was always preemptively helping them, fixing the problems before they knew there was one. The third was practically clever. She could find berries when they were hungry and water when they were parched. She built homes for them and designed tools. The fourth was skilled in combat and stealth. She could make her way through the forest without scaring even the smallest of critters and was lethal with a blade, as she proved many a time when unknown men would stumble across their little dwelling in the woods and fancy one of her chosen sisters. The eldest, while not as beautiful or gifted in practical skills as her friends turned sisters in time, was wise. So wise that, while there was no leader amongst the girls, she would have been the closest. While she could not provide for them in the same way as her sisters, she was endlessly kind and always knew what to do when the others did not. She sought knowledge endlessly.
The magic stayed, intrigued by the strange girls, so long that it noticed them grow, no longer small children, but beautiful young women and then hardened women as the world came to their hidden hole. No one ever saw the magic, never knew it was there, but one of the girls had sensed its presence, the eldest. She never said anything to her sisters, but she acknowledged the magic, welcomed it into their lives without question—something the ancient power had never experienced before. Kindness. Kindness directed towards it without thought or alternative motive. As the girls grew, they each befriended a bird that the magic, in its fondness for the girls, deemed to be their protectors. The youngest’s bird was snow white, as beautiful as the girl herself. The second youngest had a bird of silver and green, second oldest a bird of black while the middle had a bird that was sky blue. The eldest’s bird was different from the others, an ancestor of the Phoenix. A bird whose wisdom rivaled that of the girl herself. The birds stayed with the girls for their entire lives, until, one day, greedy men came in search of the magic.
The ancient power had stayed too long in one place and it knew it had brought trouble on the girls it had come to love. They fought against the men diligently, none but the eldest even knowing what they were fighting for. The best fighter of them all, the second oldest held them off even after her sisters had fallen one by one. However, when she looked around her and saw that she was alone she became distracted in her grief and fell. The magic, in its rage, created a barrier between the men and its loved girls, reaching out to them for life. In its immense sorrow it didn’t realize that the men had snuck up behind it. They reached out for it, sensing it was there and grasped a hold of the ancient power. In rage, the ancient magic turned everything around it ice, impaling all of the men but one, too young for death, who the magic let return home to warn off others.
Returning to the girls, the magic embraced them the only way it knew how, seeping into their bones, giving them all of itself in its sorrow. It did not notice as the protector birds flew towards their charges, arranged in a circle around the power. Knowing what they must do, the birds bent forward and embraced the streams of magic billowing into each girl, infusing themselves with that magic. As they joined with the flow, the combination of their love for the girls and the ancient power created something entirely new. Spent, the magic retreated into itself, smaller than before, having given all it could to each of the girls.
One by one, they began to glow. First the youngest followed by the next until all but the eldest were embraced in a shimmering hue. The magic gazed on in wonder but was curious as to why it had been able to save all but the one who had saved it. Suddenly, a bright, blinding light filled the forest and the eldest sat up, her eyes perfectly silver, in line with the fiery light that blazed out from her. Her sisters followed, though all of their eyes were gold and not silver. Over time, the eldest’s faded as well, first to the same golden hue as the others, before they all settled back to a deep blue.
The magic had saved them and, with the help of their protectors, had given life to something entirely new. From that day forward, the magic had called them the Veela and all who lived in the forest knew that they were blessed.
Over time, the Veela gave birth to children. Beautiful boys and girls. While the boys held a special power and took on a piece of the ancient magic, the true power, along with the spirit of the protectors was passed onto the girls. As such, the five noble families of Veela were born.” The voice faded as Hermione attempted to process all she had learned.
Gazing down at the page, she noted the five names shimmering in gold: Delacour, Martin, Cartier, Dubois, and Black. The five noble families of the Veela.
Just as Hermione was about to turn the page, ready to learn more. She felt a very warm magic reach out to her, slithering up her legs like a snake before wrapping around her tightly. Looking down at her lap, Hermione realized that it wasn’t a snake, but a small Patronus cat, a kitten even, curled up tightly in her lap. Hermione smiled down at it, gently stroking its head as she recognized it from the great hall earlier in the week. While Hermione was happy to have the friend and the accompanying warmth, she was curious as to whose Patronus it was. She had two guesses.
As if reading her mind, Fleur Delacour stepped out of the shadows towards her. This time, completely alone.
“Bonjour Hermione,” she spoke softly, walking towards her. “I hope I am not interrupting.”
Quickly closing the book and tucking it into her bag, Hermione looked back at the girl ready to respond. The words got caught in her throat, however, as she once again took in Fleur’s undeniable beauty. The late afternoon light hit her golden hair and made her look like an angel. Her eyes were blue, for once, but, the longer Hermione looked into them, the more she noticed a golden spiral working itself outward and beginning to fill the depths. Delacour, Hermione thought. Oh shit.
Realizing she hadn’t replied, Hermione snapped her jaw shut and said “Hi Fleur, how are you?”
“Well,” Fleur replied with a smirk, “I was well until my Patronus decided he would rather be curled on your lap.”
“Oh!” Hermione said, looking down as she subconsciously stroked the Patronus’ head, “I’m sorry, I can just get up...”
“It is not a problem, Hermione” Fleur interrupted kindly not wanting to spook the girl, “It is rare that he finds a friend, and I would rather not incur his wrath if I were to disturb him. Would it be alright if I joined you? It is so hard to find a quiet place to work here.”
“Uh…yeah…sure” Hermione stuttered, “I mean, of course.”
Fleur smiled at her kindly before taking a seat beside her. “What were you reading before I interrupted?”
Hermione contemplated lying to the girl, not wanting to upset her or for Fleur to make any ill assumptions about her but decided that it was better to just be honest with her.
Hermione gently pulled the book out of her bag and handed it to the girl. Instantly, tears filled Fleur’s eyes as she brushed a hand over the cover lovingly.
“Ah” she said softly, turning her deep golden eyes towards Hermione, “and did you find anything interesting?”
“I just barely started when this one,” Hermione gestured towards the cat occupying her lap, “decided to keep me company.”
“Well,” Fleur replied, handing the book carefully back to her, “when you finish it, do let me know if you have any questions. There aren’t many books that are thorough or true when it comes to Veela culture, but a book written by a Veela ancestor is as close as you can get. I would be happy to state any additional curiousity though should it arise.”
“Thank you,” Hermione said softly, “That is very kind. You aren’t mad, though?”
Fleur looked at her with barely concealed awe before a smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth. “Non, Hermione. I believe, with time, you will find that you need to understand what that book has to say just as much as anyone else.”
Hermione wasn’t sure what to say to that so she just nodded her acceptance. The two girls drifted off into silence as they worked. For once, Hermione couldn’t focus. Too intrigued by the book, but, more so, too intrigued by Fleur. She couldn’t take her eyes off of the other girl. Realizing how much she hated being stared at, Hermione felt herself fill with guilt and then heartache. She never wanted to the cause of such pain in someone else, let alone the girl she definitely had a crush on. She forced her eyes down towards her work, not noticing when Fleur looked up in confusion which quickly turned into sadness before transforming into something else entirely.
They stayed there, working, until one of Fleur’s friends found them, letting them know that it was time for dinner and after it, the choosing of the champions for the Triwizard Tournament.
Hermione had almost forgotten about the Tournament. She considered skipping the meal but, with a pleading look from her new friend Hermione decided that she was done running. Following Fleur towards the great hall Hermione realized that, whatever came next, she was going to embrace it head on.