AN: OK so I posted this around Christmas on Tumblr and figured I'd actually finish it and post it here as a one shot, or two shot, another short drabble of Fleurmione :)
Blue Christmas
Large get togethers were never Fleur's thing. It's not that she didn't enjoy her friends' company, on the contrary, she loved her friends, but tonight wasn't just her friends. It was her friends, their friends and their friend's friends. Too many 'ands' for the part Veela's liking as she sat in the den of the Burrow sipping on some eggnog. She watched as all the Weasley children socialized and she spotted Harry Potter with his arm around Ginny as the girl showed off her glimmering engagement ring.
"All right, Fleur?" Luna Lovegood, a peculiar girl who was in Ginny's year sat down next to the French woman, her deep blue eyes dreamy as she spoke. "You haven't been enjoying yourself, have you." It was a statement, not a question as Fleur sighed and set her glass down.
"Being around people I don't know makes me uneasy." Fleur answered honestly as she readjusted in the large arm chair. "Or as George would say, 'I lack the holiday spirit', but it is only the first of December."
"The Weasleys never need a reason to celebrate since the war ended." The younger blonde smiled as she looked around the Burrow and a smile crept onto her lips. "And it's nice to see old friends. Speaking of, have you seen Hermione?" Fleur almost flinched at the name before shaking her head in response. "Shame, I wanted to congratulate her on her job at the Ministry."
"If you would excuse me, Luna," The Veela muttered as she stood and picked up her empty glass. "I need a refill." The former Ravenclaw smiled and nodded as Fleur made her way through the crowd towards the unoccupied kitchen. At the mention of Hermione's name, she suddenly felt alone and wanted to be as far from the party as she could get. So without a second thought, she placed her glass in the sink and snuck out the back door into the frigid night air.
The night sky was void of any clouds and it seemed as though you could reach out and touch the stars, they were so bright. Fleur released a sigh as the sounds of the festivities muffled once the door shut and with a flick of her wrist, she cleared a spot on the stoop so she could sit. Her breath came in puffs of fog as she rested her elbows on her knees and gazed into the blanket of stars above her. She pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her back pocket and placed one between her lips before snapping her fingers to light it.
"Fleur?" The blonde jumped at the sound of her name before she whipped her head around to see the silhouette of the woman who had been plaguing her mind since her name had been spoken. Dressed in a sweater Fleur assumed was made by Molly, stood Hermione in a pair of slippers that were too big for her feet and a folded quilt in her arms. "I saw you come out here, thought you might get chilled without a jacket." The brunette frowned when she saw the stick between Fleur's lips. "You know those will kill you." Fleur rolled her eyes mentally and huffed.
"I'm already dying, Hermione." She added coldly before shaking her head, trying to be friendly as she took the proffered blanket. "That's very considerate of you though to worry about me." The Veela managed a small smile as she stood and Hermione sighed before standing next to the woman. "I was in such a rush for fresh air I forgot my coat, thank you." Hermione nodded as she wrung her hands together and worried her bottom lip as Fleur wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. There wasn't much of a breeze, but winter hung heavy in the air as she shivered. "You don't need to stay out here, Hermione, Luna was actually looking for you."
"I dont want to leave you alone, Fleur," The brunette lowered her gaze to the ground and dug her toe into the porch as Fleur took a drag of the cigarette, exhaling through her nose. "Not after what what happened last Christmas."
Last Christmas, or a few weeks before to be more accurate. Fleur sighed, knowing were this conversation was headed. As much as she longed to hear Hermione's voice, she did not want to hear the pity and guilt that was bubbling in her throat as the brunette opens her mouth to speak again. Another long inhale of nicotine, and another, then the cigarette was spent and the blonde flicked it out into the snow.
"Not tonight, oui?" Fleur interjected as she wrapped the blanket tighter around her shoulders and turned her gaze back to the heavens. "We shouldn't speak of such depressing things when there is a party going on." She wanted to tell Hermione to leave, but she could never speak those words to the young witch, and so the Veela prayed the book worm would take the hint to rejoin her friends.
"You know I'm not one for large parties." Hermione sighed as she shuffled over, closer to Fleur as the blonde sat back down. There was a time when the French woman would be ecstatic just to bask in Hermione's radiance and essence, but now, though a small part of her longed for her to be closer, her conscious mind was in control and warned to keep her distance.
She didn't want you. Blue eyes narrowed as her own voice echoed in her ears. The brunette waved her hand and a spot on the worn lumber cleared of snow next to Fleur who closed her eyes and sighed
"Are we ever going to talk about us?" For being a former Gryffindor, Hermione's voice was barely a breath as her dark brown eyes glanced towards the woman next to her. "I know I hurt you, Fleur, but I just-"
"You weren't ready." Fleur finished without opening her eyes. "I know, we talked already, Hermione. I don't see what else there is to discuss."
"I still love you." The Veela in her blood flared as azure orbs snapped open and she turned to see the moonlight reflecting in Hermione's eyes.
"How dare you." She hissed softly as she shook her head and closed her eyes. "How dare you come to me and tell me you love me when you broke my heart. How dare you have feelings for me after you made me suffer. I'm still suffering and you know that don't you? How can you toy with my emotions when you know I'm dying without you?"
"You can't be angry with me, Fleur." Hermione retorted as she steeled her nerves and hardened her gaze. "You can't just start dating someone for less than a year and tell them they're your mate for life. I wasn't ready! I'm still not ready! For Merlin's sake I'm twenty-one years old!" She paused to take a breath while running her fingers fervently through her curls. "We were only together for seven months. You frightened me, told me that I would never love anyone but you and I don't have control. No one has control over me Fleur and I will be damned if anyone is in control of who I love other than me!"
"You knew I would get sick!" The Veela persisted as she shed the blanket from her shoulders and stood up abruptly. "I told you what your leaving would do to me and you still left! And now here you are a year or so later, telling me you love me."
"I do."
"Then why do you let me suffer?!" There was no warning when Hermione grasped Fleur's hand and yanked her down before crashing their lips together roughly.
Fleur squeaked in shock as she felt Hermione's lips meld so perfectly with her own. Her cerulean eyes wide while the brunette's were closed in a mix of anger and ecstasy. The Veela within was flaring at the contact, overjoyed to have her mate so close, but Fleur's more rational side was conflicted. She wanted this, by the gods did she want this, but not like this. Not here. Not out of pity and remorse or guilt because Hermione knew she was causing the French woman pain. She wanted it because Hermione wanted it.
She wanted it to be because Hermione couldn't stand to be away from her, couldn't bear to not have her hands on her body or have emptiness between their lips. No, Fleur didn't want her charity of this fleeting love. The Veela, the human, wanted more, but one can't argue when the woman you love is kissing you so fervently.
Regardless, Fleur let her eyes flutter shut as her lips began to slip and move with Hermione's and she practically growled when a breathy moan escaped the brunette's throat. Her hands rested on the shorter woman's shoulders and pulled her closer. She needed her closer, needed to make sure this was real, that this was truly Hermione.
It was searing, having Hermione's lips on hers with such force, but at the same time, feeling her fighting against her want. It was bittersweet in a sense that Fleur knew the younger witch couldn't stay away from her, but wanted nothing more than to keep her distance, if only to prove that she could do it. All in all, the kiss was agonizingly perfect.
Hermione's lips froze and scorched in unison, making the blonde flinch and whimper at the pain, the need for her touch. Hands tangled in silvery blonde locks as the Veela gasped for the oxygen that Hermione had so swiftly stolen from her lungs before their lips were forced together again.
It was Heaven and Hell in one moment. Love and suffering in one kiss. To her Veela it was enough, almost perfect, but Fleur knew it was ephemeral. There could be no pain without pleasure, no restriction without defiance, and Hermione was her own contradiction. She wanted to prove to Fleur she could control her own fate, her own love, but wanted nothing more than to defy her own will and submit to the bond that compelled her to love unconditionally.
Hermione was the Harbinger of Fleur's agony and unyielding, unwavering, irrevocable love. In her gold tinged eyes, her mate was perfect. She would take the beatings, the sickness, the pain, she would even face death if it meant staying close to the brunette. The thought of death broke the part-Veela from her reverie and she gasped before gently pushing Hermione away by the shoulders.
"This isn't right." Fleur's voice was weak, ragged, as if Hermione had stolen her voice from her throat. "We...we can't be doing this." The shorter witch's brow furrowed slightly before she disentangled her fingers from Fleur's hair and sighed.
"Fleur," Hermione whispered as she gently laid her hands on top of pale porcelain. "I-"
"Herm-own-ninny?" The back door creaked open and Hermione pulled her hands away from Fleur's as if her skin had burned her. The act broke the Veela's already damaged heart as she tried to inconspicuously increase the distance between herself and Hermione. "I haff been looking all over for you. Hallo, Fleur."
"Viktor." A small smile spread on her lover's lips. Hers. Before Hermione stood and Fleur tried her best not to growl as the lumbering man drew closer. "Sorry, I was just..." Hermione glanced down at Fleur who refused to make eye contact. "Fleur was out here alone and I wanted to make sure she didn't freeze to death."
"Ah, I see." The blonde clenched her jaw as she heard the sound of a kiss being laid only Merlin knows where before a heavy hand fell on her shoulder. "Do you want my jacket, Fleur?" The Veela wanted to rip that hand from his body, to make him suffer for laying any part of him near Hermione. But that would cause a scene and probably have her thrown into Azkaban.
"Thank you, Viktor." There was a prickling on the back of Fleur's neck that she tried her damnedest to ignore before she stood and turned to face the couple in case she lost control. "But I was actually going to head home." Fleur summoned the quilt to her before folding it and offering it back to Hermione. "It was nice to see you both, but I'm a bit tired, I think the cold weather gets to me more and more every year."
"A shame," The Bulgarian said as his face fell slightly, genuinely saddened by the fact he hadn't seen his fellow champion in years. "I was hoping we could catch up, but I don't want to keep you if you're tired."
"Yes, well, I'm getting older it seems." Fleur chuckled as a sharp pain began to stab at her shoulders. "But please, you two should rejoin the party. It was pleasant to see both of you, despite how brief it was." She glanced at Hermione then, who looked concerned, which angered Fleur even more.
"Be careful apparating home." Viktor smiled as he leaned forward and kissed the Veela chastely on both of her cheeks. "I hope we can meet again to catch up." Fleur nodded and forced her most pleasant smile she could muster. Viktor gently took Hermione's hand and made their way back towards the house, Fleur still smiling as the brunette glanced over her shoulder, a troubled expression still marring her face.
Once they had disappeared inside, Fleur clenched her jaw, hearing her bones crack and muscles tear to accommodate for what was growing. She bit back a groan as her shirt tore and an intense burning filled her back before she lurched forward, hands catching the railing to stay on her feet. If you had been watching, it was a fluid shift, no noise or blood, nothing gory, but to Fleur, it was excruciating.
Her Veela fought for control. She was weak in this state. Exhausted from fighting off her shift, mentally weak from allowing herself to fall to Hermione's and her own needs. It was too much and as her shimmering, dark blue wings stretched and flexed after being confined for so long, she caught the sight of Viktor with his arm lovingly around Hermione's waist through the window. They seemed happy, they seemed together as they talked with their friends.
"Bulgarians." Fleur hissed as she turned from the Burrow and with a mighty flex of her wings, lifted herself off the ground.