Unintended Consequences- Part 5

AN: Apologies, I was out of town most of last week and just couldn't find the time to write. I got back yesterday and have been back on it.

After a long hiatus on this one, I hope everyone enjoys! This one is on the romantic side of things rather than smutty, and sets up a few potential story threads.

Casting-

Apolline- Summer Soderstrom

Aurore- Natalya Krasavina

As he played with the collar of his shirt, a dainty hand stopped him, “Stop worrying, my love. I know she’ll adore you.”

It was an easy thing for Apolline to say because she wasn’t the one facing the scrutiny of his parents, or parent in this case. Though based on her relationship with Lily here that probably would’ve gone splendidly.

Harry faced down a basilisk, a hoard of dementors, and a Dark Lord, but in the face of his current predicament, he’d happily do it all again. Given that Apolline was currently pregnant with their child, and he had every intention of marrying her, there really wasn’t any chance of avoiding it any longer, but that didn’t make him any less anxious.

Apolline let her fingers dance along his neck, “If I wasn’t afraid of my mother’s irritation should we arrive late, I’d happily help settle your nerves.” She bit her pouty lower lip as she glanced down at the front of his trousers.

Harry held her hips as he leaned down to capture her lips, “Lovely as that sounds, the last thing I want to do is make a bad first impression… and we do have a habit of getting carried away.”

“That is entirely your fault, my love.” She giggled out as she pulled away from him.

“Really?” he arched one eyebrow in consternation.

“Oh yes, if you would simply give into the pleasure and let yourself fill my stomach without control, it would not take so long.” She wore a downright sinful smile as she looked up at him.

It was sorely tempting to ignore the looming meeting with her mother, but he knew that was the foolish thing to do. Taking a deep breath just to still his rising blood, he reached out and tickled her side, “It’s funny… I don’t recall you complaining about my control before. I always thought you enjoyed the opportunity, but if it’s truly a problem, I can always make some adjustments.”

Apolline’s eyes widened in panic as she jumped away from his wiggling fingers. Regardless of her teasing, he knew that she enjoyed every time she was able to lavish and worship his cock and reveled in the fact that she was a lucky veela with a lover capable of handling the experience, “No, no… don’t change a thing. I was only joking, my love.”

“So, you admit that you’re the one responsible for us getting carried away?” He knew that she wouldn’t give up that easily.

He almost chuckled as her nose scrunched up cutely as she tried to come up with a solution to the predicament she created for herself, “The blame is shared.” She finally told him with a triumphant smile, “You’re no better than me. How many times have you driven me from one peak to the next only because you enjoyed the sight of me cumming on your cock?” The correct answer was every time, as often as he could manage it.

This conversation could only lead to one place at this point unless they put an end to it. And as much as we’d surely enjoy the outcome, Apolline doesn’t want to disappoint her mother.

“You’re right,” he conceded, taking her hand, “I can think of worse problems to have though, can’t you?”

“Of course, very few veela are so lucky in their lover. There are some who never know true pleasure at the hands of another.” That wasn’t something he’d ever learned about veela in his admittedly limited interactions and study into them.  Though I can’t imagine it’s the sort of thing you could learn from a book.

They left his apartment and headed down to the local apparition point. Holding tightly to her arm, she twisted, and they arrived a few seconds later to the northeast of Saint-Tropez, in the heart of Provence, just outside of a breathtaking town.

Sitting on a hilltop in the French country and bathed in the orange and red hues of the setting sun, Gourdes was nothing short of picturesque. Stone buildings climbed along the slope, each of them topped with terracotta roof tiles. The castle stood in the center of the village and could just be seen over the tops of the buildings surrounding it from the foot of the hill.

Unable to hide her growing excitement, Apolline took his hand and dragged him away from the town, down the nearest road. They passed a few locals as they made their way along, including a young boy of no more than thirteen who couldn’t take his eyes off Apolline as they passed. Harry couldn’t really blame the lad, the excited veela almost glowed as they walked.

She guided him down a small, secluded path amongst the trees along the path. After about a hundred meters, he felt wards wash over him before they emerged to find a quaint house. It was made of a pale red stone with the same terracotta tiles as the rest of the town. There was a small garden to the left of the house, and he could hear the sounds of animals toward the back.  Smoke billowed from the chimney as the smells from within wafted out. He could already tell he was in for an enjoyable evening as far as food was concerned.

“It’s always good to come home, no?” Apolline’s voice was filled with obvious affection. Harry never gave much thought to where exactly she’d grown up, but he doubted this is what he would’ve pictured. Still, it was beautiful, and she had an obvious fondness for it.

Pulling him to the door, she didn’t bother knocking before she entered. Despite the rustic outside appearance, the interior of the home was classic and elegant. The walls were painted white and accented with gold while the furniture was black. Art hung on the walls, expensive art he wagered, interspersed with family pictures.

“Mother?! We’re here.” Apolline called out. There was bustling from the other side of the nearest door before the woman appeared.

 Over his time spent with Apolline, he grew accustomed to the ambient feel of her allure, like a pleasant aroma that constantly filled the air whenever she was around. When her mother entered that sense doubled.

She looked as though she could be Apolline’s sister rather than her mother. Her eyes were big and the brightest blue he’d ever seen. Given Apolline’s own, that was quite a feat. Her hair looked like strands of silver that shone in the light. Her lips were full and bright pink without even the slightest bit of makeup.  It was obvious to see where Apolline inherited both her model-like beauty and her mouth dropping figure. 

Regardless of her age, Apolline’s mother was nothing short of a bombshell. Even wearing an apron and a rather simple summer dress, it was obvious that she was perfectly proportioned. From a full chest without a hint of sag, to the curve of her womanly hips, to full, creamy thighs, the woman captivated the eye. She doubtlessly turned the heads of everyone that met her.

“My darling girl,” she effused as she hurried to her daughter and pulled her into a tight hug, “I’ve missed you these last few months.”

“I sent plenty of letters.” Apolline reminded her.

“Letters are a poor substitute for you.” She pulled away from the hug and looked her daughter over as she rubbed her upper arms. After a few moments, she took note of him. Her voice was like liquid honey as she observed, “And I take it this is the man who’s been responsible for your prolonged absence.”

“Yes mother,” Apolline returned to his side, “this is Harry Peverell. Harry this is my mother, Aurore Descoteaux.”

“A pleasure to meet you, madame.” The last time he remembered feeling this frightened was facing down death in the graveyard after the Third Task.

Aurore appraised him with bright, inhumanly blue eyes. The corner of her lips turned up into a smile as she turned her attention to her daughter, “He’s as handsome as you said in your letters.”

“Mother!” Apolline blushed in embarrassment as she refused to look at him.  

“What? Are you trying to insinuate to this young man that you didn’t tell me how handsome he was in the first letter I received after you met him?” Aurora clearly enjoyed teasing her daughter.

“And here I thought you found me handsome.” Harry interjected, playing along.

 Apolline looked between them as words tumbled out of her mouth, “I mean yes… but no… I…” As he shared a look with her mother, they both started chuckling. Pouting, she just turned her head into his arm, “This is no fair.”

“Don’t worry,” Aurore comforted her daughter, “I can put his mind at ease… just let me go and find those letters and I’ll prove it.”

“Don’t you dare.” She warned her mother.

“Oh, it could be worse, Apolline. I could offer to show him your baby pictures instead.” At the look of utter indignation on her daughter’s face, she finally gave her a reprieve, “Stop your worrying, I don’t intend to do any such thing… at least not yet. Now make yourselves comfortable, supper will be ready in just a few minutes.”

As they sat down on the couch, Apolline kept herself just a little bit further away from him as she pouted again. Amused, he grabbed her waist and pulled her closer. She turned her head away from him just slightly. He knew her well enough at this point to know when she was putting on an act, “Shouldn’t you be happy, love. You wanted your mother to like me, and I would wager that things have gotten off to a wonderful start.”

“Not at my expense.” She protested, though failing to keep the humor out of her voice.

“I’m sorry, dear.” He feigned apology as he pecked her on the cheek, “Were you expecting that I would be the brunt of the teasing?”

“Of course, that only seems fair, no?” Her pouting disappeared entirely.

“Completely,” he agreed, “and if that was anything to go by, I assume that I’ll have the opportunity at some point.”

“Knowing my mom, I doubt you’ll be spared by the end of the night.”  With that she finally tucked herself to his side.

Kissing her cheek, he couldn’t help but ask,” So… when did you send the first letter about me to your mother?”

Without hesitation, she responded, “The next day. It was the very first thing I did that morning once I was out of your bed.” The admission made his heart feel warm as they sat there in comfortable silence, just playing with each other’s fingers.

They didn’t need to wait long before Aurore, now without her apron, emerged and summoned them, “Dinner is served.”

Popping off the couch, Harry offered Apolline his hand which she happily took as they made their way through the door. It was obvious that some magic enlarged the house on the inside. There was an eight-seat, rectangular table with a small crystal chandelier hanging over it.  Considering it was only a dinner for three, Aurore cooked a veritable feast that would’ve made Mrs. Weasley proud. And it smells absolutely delicious!

 “Please sit and help yourselves.”  Pulling out the chair closest to her mother for Apolline, Harry sat beside her. His, with luck, soon-to-be fiancé grabbed his plate and began filling it for him. She filled it with coq au vain, roasted vegetables and potatoes, and he was surprised to see Yorkshire puddings there as well.

Aurore noticed his surprise, “Apolline mentioned that you’re originally from England, and I thought it only fair that you have a few reminders of home, even if it isn’t quite one of your Sunday roasts.”

“It’s brilliant, thank you.” He took a bite of the food, and he could understand why Apolline had such a fantastic recipe for bouillabaisse.

They just enjoyed the delicious food and quality wine before Aurore asked, “So, ‘Arry, I hear that you’re a talented wandmaker.”

While he tried to be humble, he knew the truth, “I strive to be the very best at my craft, and I’ve built a reputation that matches my efforts.”

“As you should, young man.” She seemed pleased with his answer, “I admit, I don’t know a great deal about the intricacies of wand making, but it’s my understanding that the necessary materials can be extremely difficult to acquire.”

“Even the most rudimentary materials can be difficult at times, yes.”

She took a sip of her wine, “With that in mind, I’m curious if your trip to Albania was successful? I could feel my daughter’s excitement in the parchment when she told me you agreed that she could join you… but she was reluctant to tell me about it until she could see me in person.”

“It was.” Harry replied, “More successful than I could’ve hoped. We encountered a shtriga that we managed to dispatch.”

“He’s being too modest, mother.” Apolline cut in with a beaming smile, “We didn’t dispatch anything. He saw the creature lurking at the edge of our camp in the dead of night and finished it with a single spell.”

“I didn’t think the details were important.” Harry couldn’t pretend he wasn’t flattered by her obvious pride in him though.

“Of course, they are.” Aurore corrected him, “In one telling you are merely part of many, in the other you are the hero of the story. When it’s deserved, there’s no shame in standing out.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he responded before continuing, “As a result of our uninvited dinner guest I acquired an ingredient I never went looking for, hardened shtriga ichor.” It was the stone that remained after the creature took its final breath, “It’s an exceedingly rare ingredient and I intend to experiment to determine if it might be viable for any stage of my crafting process.”

“But that isn’t all!” Apolline nearly bounced in her seat.

“No,” he rested his hand on her thigh, “the next day, as we hiked through the forest, we encountered dancing fairy lights: the shtojzovalle.”

“The real purpose behind your journey there, yes?” Aurore asked astutely.

“Yes, they revealed themselves and approached us. As it turned out, the shtriga wasn’t satisfied with hunting the babes of humans alone. The wretched thing slaughtered two of their young in as many months.”

“As thanks for ‘Arry’s heroic deeds, they provided him with three full vials of their tears.” Apolline blurted out before Harry had the chance. Her enthusiasm only made him smile.

“That’s not an ingredient often found at the apothecary…”

“No, it wouldn’t be… phoenix tears are the only thing harder to come by.” Harry hoped to someday acquire them as well. Perhaps Fawkes would be willing to part with a few of them.

“Well congratulations on a successful journey, young man. It sounds like it was quite the adventure.” She took a sip of wine and turned her attention to her daughter, “Did anything else interesting happen while you were there, by any chance, my darling daughter?”

Apolline’s gaze flitted over to him, and he took her hand in support. Swallowing, she managed to keep her voice even as she told her mother, “Yes, we questioned why the shtriga bothered our encampment given their taste for children. On a hunch, one of our companions, a Miss Gaunt, cast a diagnostic spell and… I’m pregnant.”

A grin lit up Aurore’s face as she stood from her chair. Going to her daughter, she wrapped her in a hug as he felt a gentle warmth within the allure. When she pulled away, she took her face in her hands, “Of course you are, you beautiful young woman. I knew from the moment I set eyes on you today.” She snickered to herself, “Though, I wasn’t sure if you’d actually be brave enough to tell me.”

“It was nerve wracking, especially since you hadn’t even met ‘Arry yet.” Apolline laughed out despite the tears in the corner of her eye, “But I knew I’d have to tell you eventually. There’s only so long I could hide it, after all.”

Her mother chuckled, “True, though I suppose you could’ve stayed away from home a while longer… even years.”

“I would never!” Apolline sounded affronted at the very idea.

She patted her cheek again, “I know, my darling.” Then her attention came to him again, “And you?”

“I’ll do everything in my power to take care of your daughter, madame.” He didn’t flinch even slightly in the face of her scrutiny, “And I ask your permission to marry.” His girlfriend stared at him with wide eyes as her hand tightened in his. They talked about it briefly when they were at the height of their passion that night in their camp, but now it felt that much more real.

“I’m sure you will.” She responded to his first claim, “And I don’t think it’d matter whether I give my permission or not, my daughter will marry you all the same.”

“Possibly, but I’d like it all the same.”

“It’s easy to see why she adores you so, ‘Arry. Even my Phillippe would’ve liked you and no one was good enough in his mind for our Apolline.” Harry knew that her father died, but he never pried for the details and that wasn’t going to change. They were welcome to tell him the whole story when they were ready, “Of course, you have my permission. You’d be a welcome addition to our little family.”

Apolline hugged herself tightly against him at her mother’s acceptance. As their embrace ended, they found Aurore watching her daughter intently, “Darling, joyous as the news is, there are still certain traditions that must be acknowledged if you wish to remain a part of the enclave.”

For the first time in quite a long time, Harry felt completely lost. He had no idea what the older woman was referring to. From the way Apolline just slowly nodded her head, it was obvious the same wasn’t true for her, “I know mother, we just haven’t discussed it yet.”

“Now seems as good a time as any.”

Apolline frowned but didn’t argue with her mother, “Yes, it’ll be easier if we both explain it.”

Returning to her seat, Aurore asked him, “How much do you know about veela and their traditions?”

“Beyond the fact that you’re capable of an avian transformation and existence of the allure, very little.” He admitted, before remembering back to his fourth year, “Oh, and your hairs can make for a potent wand core as long as there’s a connection with the owner.” Despite his profession, he’d almost forgotten. The opportunity hadn’t presented itself for him to make one yet.

“Very good, few people know that last fact, but I would expect nothing less from a wandmaker of your reputation.” Leaning forward against the table, she continued, “Veela, whether full-blooded or less, belong to an enclave. They are most prevalent in Eastern Europe where we originate, but there is one here in France and it’s the place where I grew up.”

“When a veela finds a partner, a mate, there are certain protocols that must be followed if the veela in question wishes to remain a part of the enclave.” Apolline explained.

“Yes,” Aurore picked up, “over the centuries many unscrupulous wizards have coveted veela for their beauty and their magic. The allure weeds out the weakest amongst them, but there are some with more guile and tact. Our magic and the way it entwines with our partner’s protected us from men of that sort, but there was one horrid individual who overcame even that safeguard.”

“He ingratiated himself with a young, impressionable veela named Violette. Besotted, she brought him back to the enclave. You can imagine their intentions.” He could. Whether it was for personal use, or for the purpose of trafficking, neither intent was anything short of vile, “He was driven off, but not without losses… some dead, others just… gone.” She shook herself, “After that terrible tragedy, every enclave agreed upon new safety measures.”

“And that would be?”

“You must travel to the enclave without your wand.”

“How would they know?”

Apolline snickered at that, “Can you think of no way?”

“Naked then?” Both women nodded their heads at his deduction.

“Amongst other things, yes. Then, you’ll be taken to the Matriarchs.” Aurore explained, “There you’ll be questioned thoroughly with your beloved as witness. Should any falsehood pass your lips, you’ll never return home.”

His throat tightened, not because he had any intention of lying but because there were a great many things that Apolline still didn’t know about him. Much of it was simple questions that were likely to come up. Even my name isn’t really mine. And that’s to say nothing of my birth or my parents.

Forcing down those uncertainties, he asked, “And if I refuse?” He saw the way that Apolline’s face fell, and he knew that he would do it. He squeezed her soft hand as he assured her, “I don’t intend to, I just would like to know as much as I can.”

“Refusal means expulsion from the enclave, not only for Apolline but all related veela.” It was a harsh consequence but understandable for the sake of their sanctuaries.

“It needs to happen before we wed, yes?”

“Correct, ‘Arry.” Aurore responded almost apologetically, “Normally, this isn’t the sort of thing we’d discuss my first time meeting you, but circumstances made it a pressing issue.”

“I understand completely.” He smiled tightly at the elder veela, “How soon can it be done?”

“When you’re ready, I must travel to the enclave. The following day, you’ll receive your summons.” Apolline told him.

There was only one thing about the entire conversation that confused him, “It seems you’ve told me a great deal about something that’s meant to be a secret…”

Aurore laughed, a tinkling thing that seemed almost ethereal, “Very astute… you remind me of my Phillippe in that way. You’re right, I’ve told you more than we’re meant to, and I hope I don’t come to regret it. But when you look at my daughter, I see the sort of love that can’t be faked. It’s in the very soul.”

“You won’t regret it.” He assured her with such resounding absoluteness his voice radiated with a bit of his magic. With that said, silence filled the air between them. It was only the sound of a timer going off in the kitchen that broke it.

As her mother hurried out of the room, Apolline turned to him looking as anxious as he was feeling, “I know it’s a lot to take in, my love. I understand if you need some time…”

A kiss silenced her, “I don’t need any time, I’ll do it tomorrow if that’s what’s necessary. There are just things that you need to know before contacting the enclave. Though it’s a conversation better had in private.”

Her mind no doubt raced with a million questions at such a cryptic explanation, but she didn’t let it show as her mother returned, “Souffle… and hopefully happier conversation again.”

The conversation flowed easily as the night passed. By the time they made their way to the door, the moon lit up the sky. Aurore gave her daughter another firm hug before pulling Harry into one of his own, “It was a pleasure meeting you. You’re welcome here any time.”

He thought it was only fair to extend a similar invitation, “Should you wish to join us in Saint-Tropez, all you ever need to do is say the word.”

“Now that is tempting, just for the beaches alone.” Aurore tittered, “I would enjoy a tour of your workshop given the chance. Perhaps I might even be able to help.” Her finger ran through the strands of her silver hair, “Goodnight, the two of you, and safe travels.”

As they parted, the door was nearly closed behind them before one last question occurred to him. They were so focused on the implications for Harry and Apolline, he hadn’t thought to ask before, “Aurore, the story about the wizard that attacked the enclave… what was his name?”

Pure loathing filled her eyes as she bit out, “Gellert Grindelwald, may the goddess haunt his every step.”

“I’m sorry…”

“No, your curiosity is understandable. It just brings up bitter memories.” She seemed far off then, thinking back on those very memories, “Goodnight.” With that she shut the door behind them.

Offering Apolline his arm, they made their way to the edge of the wards, “I hope I didn’t offend her.”

“No, not at all.” Apolline assured him, “Grindelwald did many terrible things… and some of it caused deep personal harm.” He refused to pry into the matter and just waited.

Softly, she elaborated, “A decade ago now, seven of his most faithful Acolytes stormed Nurmengard and freed him from the cell that Albus Dumbledore threw him in. A contingent of hit wizards from France and Germany were sent to apprehend him before he could regather his strength. Even after years spent in captivity, he was still one of the most gifted wizards alive. And so even though the contingent outnumbered them five to one, they failed. Only ten of the hit wizards were lucky enough to retreat with their lives…” she sniffled as she fought back tears, “My father was one of the unlucky ones. Only for the man to go into hiding ever since.”

Quietly offering her comfort as they approached the ward line, he realized it was just another in the long list of differences between his new world and his old one. Holding his forearm tightly, she let him apparate them back to his home.

There was a radio that sat on a small table in the corner that he turned on. The strings of an orchestra filled the room as Apolline kicked off her shoes. Sitting down on the couch, he patted the seat next to him.

Nestling herself against his side, eyes filled with curiosity, she asked, “You said there were things you needed to tell me… things in private.” She tried to hide the trembling in her voice.

Deciding to drink the proverbial potion, he revealed the simplest of the truths first, “Legally, my name Is Harry Peverell, but it isn’t the name I was born with. My family name is Potter.” Before she had a chance to ask a question, he plowed right on ahead, “I was born July 31st… 1980. To Lily and James Potter.”

“Wait?! Lily? As in our Lily? And with James, the cad that she despises?” She didn’t seem disgusted, just genuinely shocked.

“Not our Lily, no… though a Lily Evans, yes. I’m not just displaced in time, but in reality, too.”

“Your eyes are eerily similar, and something about her magic just…” She shook her head at how outlandish it actually sounded, “That… is impossible! You shouldn’t be teasing me like this, I thought you were being serious!”

He chuckled at her utterly flabbergasted expression, “In most situations, you’d be right. It’d be impossible. But everything I’m telling you is the truth.”

She searched his face for a breathless few seconds, trying to find any hint of humor or deceit. When she found nothing but sincerity, she nestled herself closer to him, “How did it happen?”

Touched by her trust in him, he explained, “There was a Dark Lord in my time, he called himself Voldemort, but his name was Tom Riddle.”

Apolline snickered at the name but didn’t comment on it, instead asking, “Any relation to Tilly’s mother?”

“In an odd manner of speaking, though she’s nothing like him.”

“It explains your reaction I suppose.” At his raised eyebrow, she elaborated, “You looked at her as though you knew her but couldn’t quite place her.”

“Sometimes I think you might be too observant for your own good.”

“Oh no, just for your own good.” She teased, “Now, continue.”  

“Tom tried to kill me when I was just a year old and murdered my parents in the attempt.” Pointing to the once famous scar on his head, he revealed, “He left me this as a souvenir after I survived the Killing Curse thanks to my mother’s sacrifice… it banished him into life as a wraith for over a decade.”

He heard her breath hitch at the idea of his death, but she didn’t interrupt, “In my fourth year, he used my blood in a ritual to restore himself to a body.” He showed her the jagged scar along his forearm, “In my fifth, he relentlessly pursued a prophecy hidden in the Department of Mysteries at the British Ministry. He used a connection between us to manipulate me into going there. As we ran from his Death Eaters, every Time Turner in England was destroyed around me.”

“That sort of magic can be temperamental…”

“Yes, and it’s that magic that sent me both back in time and into a parallel timeline.”

“And you ended up here.”

“Exactly.” He felt lighter now that the truth, even if it wasn’t every detail, was finally out in the open, “I never meant to hide it from you… it’s not the easiest this to explain.” He paused, rubbing her shoulder, “I didn’t want you to find out because I was compelled to tell you. It wouldn’t’ve been fair.”  

Crawling into his lap, she rubbed her thumb against his temple, soothing him, “I’m glad you told me. I always knew you hadn’t told me everything. I don’t expect that’ll happen for many years still, and I look forward to hearing the rest of it.” The smile on her lips was sad, “You lost everything, didn’t you? Friends, family, lovers even?”

His hands rested on her hips, “No lovers, and the only family I left behind was my godfather, Sirius. There were friends though, good friends who fought beside me even when they didn’t have to. I think about them sometimes, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna and Neville. They were with me in the Department of Mysteries, and I can only hope they made it out.” He rested his head against her chest, the dull thud of her heartbeat heavy in his ear, “But there’s no going back, and even if there was, I wouldn’t trade what I have now for anything.”

Apolline scratched her fingers through his hair, “I know, my love.” She tried to stifle her giggle, but she didn’t quite manage it.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, nothing.” As he tickled her sides she relented, “I just realized that the closest I can get to meeting your mother has already gone brilliantly. Even if it isn’t actually her, it’s nice to think that she’d approve… though probably not in quite the same way.”

As they stayed there in a quiet embrace, neither looking for anything more, just reveling in the intimacy of knowing each other better, he realized that he’d shared that very thought earlier in the day. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought. The sound of strings filled the silence as they held each other.

AN: I'm of two minds of anything happening with Aurore. On one hand, I like the idea of her loving and honoring her husband even after he passed as a veela who had only one encompassing love. On the other, at its root this is still a smutty fic and she's an unattached female character, so very much a possibility. Let me know your thoughts.

For anyone wondering, 'Not the Enemy- Part 2' is next! Thanks for reading!