Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Seriously.
A/N: It feels like it's been ages since I've posted something and even longer since I've posted a HP something. Anyhow, I hope I haven't lost my touch – uhm, that's assuming I had a touch, of course. Also, it looks like the muse is still in the sappy phase, so I hope you're not getting tired of my fluffy fics. *grins*
A/N2: Ooh, so – if you like/dislike this drabble, would like to sing my praises/mouth me off or just tell me something/anything, please review to do so! Thank you.
Hermione swallows nervously, her eyes blinking once, twice and finally fluttering shut. Fleur is close, so close that Hermione can feel Fleur's breath like caresses as they skim over her lips, that little bit of her chin, her cheeks and the tingles that result run all the way down to the tips of her toes. "Fleur," she whispers raggedly, her lips dry and her fingers clenching, unclenching and just aching to hold on to something.
Fleur smirks knowingly and pulls a little away to place her hands flat against the wall on either side of Hermione, her body just a hair's breadth away from the brunette's. "Yes?" she asks, her English just a little less accented as it always tends to be in Hermione's company.
Hermione tries desperately to think of something to say, her eyes opening and almost immediately drawn to the way Fleur's dress clings to her curves like a possessive lover. Hermione swallows again. "What are you doing here?" she manages.
"I was invited," Fleur replies in what Hermione can only describe as a purr. "As a representative of the French Ministry of Magic," she adds unnecessarily.
"No, what are you doing here?" Hermione repeats her question, gesturing to the empty washroom as best as she could in light of her circumstances. "Cornering me," she adds for clarification.
A slow, deliberate smile graces Fleur's lips and Hermione's breath hitches before she could stop herself. "I've missed you," the blonde whispers, leaning in with hooded eyes and parted lips, the tip of her tongue flickering out quickly to wet already shimmering lips, the promise of sex is heavy in her expression and in the way her hips sway against Hermione's.
Hermione presses her thighs together and studiously ignore the victorious smirk Fleur directs at her. "You left me," Hermione reminds the blonde coolly.
Fleur pulls away slowly at that, tossing her hair over one shoulder and adopting a carefully bored expression as she examines her perfect manicure. "We've talked about this," she replies dismissively.
Hermione bristles and stands up a little straighter. "No, we've yelled and cried and threw things at each other. We haven't talked about this. We have, however, agreed not to see each other. We've agreed, but obviously you've paid it no mind. You were exactly the same when we were still dating."
"That was five years ago, Hermione. We were still children." Fleur sounds a little irritated as she fights to keep the scowl away, taking another step away to put some distance between the two of them.
"Who's to say we've grown up since then?" Hermione retorts.
"I'm not here to debate, Hermione," Fleur grouses, standing her ground a safe few feet away.
"No, you're just here for cheap thrills," Hermione returns bitterly. "Is that how you see me? Merlin, Fleur, I knew you had your faults, but I didn't know you were this bloody cruel!"
Fleur's confident stance crumples almost immediately as she watches Hermione's bottom lip tremble. She curses internally as she says quickly, "Hermione, love, you know that I don't mean that. Please, you know I'm not really like that."
"You stay away from me," Hermione snaps, batting away Fleur's hands as her tears run freely down her cheeks. "And don't you call me love. Don't you dare. You don't and you didn't. Merlin, I can't believe I still let you get to me after all these years."
"Please, please, Hermione, please, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I would never, ever see you as a cheap thrill. Please, baby, you were the only one, still the only one for me," Fleur rambles, completely out of her depth as she stays away from a crying yet livid Hermione. Is she crazy to think Hermione never more beautiful than she is in this moment?
"Feed that line to someone who'd actually believe it," Hermione hisses as she stalks towards the line of sinks and away from a gaping Fleur. "I have had it with you. No more, just no more."
"Hermione, you know I'm really bad with this emotional stuff. Please, baby, I wasn't thinking!" Fleur begs, feeling tears well up in her own eyes.
Hermione snorts, a thousand biting comebacks at the tip of her tongue and yet none that feels quite right. "No, you weren't. You never were," Hermione relents finally, her shoulders slumping as she bends over a sink.
Fleur takes a tentative step forward. "I love you, Hermione. I always have," she whispers sincerely, her voice breaking and her hands shaking a little as she lets that bit of truth be spoken aloud for the first time in five years.
Hermione's shoulders shake as a new batch of tears pours forth. "Don't," she says in a small voice. "Just don't."
Fleur closes the distance between them and wraps her arms around Hermione's waist from behind. "I love you, mon amour," Fleur repeats, a sigh escaping her lips and her body relaxing when Hermione slowly places a hand on one of hers.
"It'd be so much easier if I don't love you," Hermione sniffs as she leans back into Fleur, wiping away her tears.
Fleur feels her heart pick up pace as Hermione's words filter through her foggy mind. "Y-you do?" she asks in a hushed tone.
Hermione closes her eyes and smiles. "I must be foolish," she mumbles. "But yes, I do. I've been dying a slow death these past five years, Fleur."
Fleur buries her face in Hermione's shoulder, holding her more tightly. "I'm so sorry, mon amour. I was the foolish one. I should have never let you go."
Hermione turns in Fleur's arms when she registers wetness on her bare shoulder and caresses a wet cheek. "I should hate you," she mutters, looking straight into Fleur's eyes.
Fleur's breath hitches as she leans into Hermione's touch. "You should," she agrees miserably.
"You're the worst thing to ever happen to me." Hermione grins as Fleur's jaw drops and adds before Fleur could interrupt, "But you're also the best thing to ever happen to me. I can't imagine living without you, Fleur."
"But you have been living without me," Fleur reminds her, drawing Hermione infinitely closer.
"I've been surviving, not living," Hermione corrects her.
Fleur nods. "I understand. That's what I've been doing too."
Hermione lifts an eyebrow. "That's not what I heard."
Fleur blushes. "They were distractions, mon amour. I tried to find a replacement for you, but they all fell short of you. I entrusted my heart to you so many years ago and it has remained with you for the past five years. Tu as mon coeur. You always have and you always will, Hermione."
Hermione colours swiftly. "You say the sweetest things," she mumbles, dropping her eyes.
Fleur grins. "Look at me, mon amour. I only speak of the truth. I love you, Hermione, and I will spend the rest of my life to prove that you're not mistaken to give me this second chance."
"That's a start," Hermione replies, looking up and returning Fleur's smile with one of her own. "I love you, Fleur."
"Hermione, may I kiss you?" Fleur whispers hopefully as she runs her fingertips along Hermione's cheekbone.
Hermione's eyes flutter before they slowly return to Fleur's. "Yes," she breathes.
"Should we be worried?" Harry speaks up finally after thirty minutes of waiting and watching – and still no sign of either Fleur or Hermione.
"What? Why?" a very intoxicated Ron responds as he sloshes more Firewhisky on himself.
"Fleur and Hermione haven't been back yet," Ginny offers by way of enlightenment, grimacing a little and waving her wand to remove the worst of the mess off of her brother's dress robes.
"So?" Ron's eyes narrow as he stares into the depths of his goblet.
"So they could be tearing each other apart for all we know," Pansy adds gleefully, subsiding a little when her girlfriend directs a withering glare at her. "Sorry, Gin," she mumbles apologetically.
"They broke up five years ago, remember?" Ginny reminds her brother patiently. "They haven't seen each other at all since then. Harry's worried that they won't be civil to each other."
Harry looks affronted. "But you all thought so too! I mean, you could have heard a pin drop in the silence that this table was. They were just glaring at each other the whole dinner."
Ginny rolls her eyes. "Yes, yes, we all share the concern. Happy now?"
Harry sniffs as he sips at his wine. "Thank you."
"But – but Hermione came as my date," Ron manages, looking blearily at his best friend.
Harry pats his back sympathetically. "I know, Ron. But they've got history."
"She's got history with me," Ron mutters.
The three others at the table exchange a look. "Of course she does, Ron," Ginny says a little too cheerfully.
"I'm sure," Pansy adds.
"Yeah, what they said," Harry compounds.
Ron nods sagely. "Then we don't have to be worried. Hermione and Fleur will come back just fine. You'll see."
Ginny, Pansy and Harry exchange another look and sip at their respective drinks as one.
"We should go back," Hermione whispers, making no move to pull away from Fleur's embrace.
"Do we have to? It's just boring talks after this," Fleur grouses, tightening her hold on Hermione.
Hermione giggles and drops a kiss on the pulse in Fleur's neck. "Mmm, you taste good. But yes, I think we should go back. Both of us are supposed to speak for those boring talks, you know."
Fleur makes a choking noise and releases Hermione reluctantly. She holds the door of the tiny stall open for the brunette and says as if an afterthought, "Oh, if we're going back, you should do something about your neck."
"My neck? What about my neck?" Hermione goes to look at herself in the mirror, eyes growing wide as she notes the multiple love bites. "Fleur!"
But her lover has escaped the washroom; the door swinging on its hinges and Hermione can still hear her laughter as Fleur races back to the ballroom.
Hermione rolls her eyes. "You're just lucky I love you," she grumbles as she disappears the marks on her neck regretfully. "I am so getting back at you for this," she continues to herself as she sweeps out of the washroom and back to real life. Only this time, she knows Fleur will be right there with her.