Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Universe is owned by JKR. I own nothing you recognize in that respect. The story idea, and where I have taken the characters is my entire fault.

Dearest Siria,

I have never underestimated my ability to complicate my life, and yet no matter how complicated it became there always seemed to be some good that came of it. It started with a dream and ended with one. The first, an ethereal wisp flitting into my consciousness one night, the other so solid and true that even now I wonder at my own fortune. She is, was and probably always will be a goddess among women. Her hair a silvery blonde, that looks like sickles spun out into tiny silken fibers. Her eyes the cerulean blue of the sky without clouds on a warm summers day. Her smile makes your heart leap up in your chest begging you to smile back. That smile and those eyes enchanted me long ago and never let go. I first saw her my fourth year at Hogwarts when she came with the girls from Beauxbatons to compete in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Their half-veela champion, she made all the boys in school swoon, and I'll admit I was completely hooked. All that year I scoffed with the other girls trying to pretend that I thought the boys reactions to her were sick and wrong. Never daring to admit that I reacted the exact same way whenever she glided into a room. She glided, she never seemed to walk as other women do; she floated across the ground in a way that made my pulse speed up and my knickers become moist. The fact that I sighed at the thought apparently brought me to the attention of the man standing beside me.

"Why so wistful Mione?" Harry asked, his green eyes sparkling with humor. "

What could I tell him, that my mind was filled with thoughts of the bride to be? That I was thinking of the dreams I had almost every night that year of her spread out beneath me her skin shimmering in the soft light of the candles, her breath catching as she cried out her release. My tongue and lips coated with her sweet nectar. Her eyes like azure fire burning through me heightening my own passion. The dreams I awoke from shuddering and gasping, my whole body teetering on the edge of orgasm. I turned toward my best friend and smiled softly.

"I was thinking about the Tri-Wizard Tournament, about when we first met Fleur." I said, trying for as much truth as I could.

He smiled back at me. "Thinking of Viktor?" He joked, referring to the dark eyed Quidditch star -who had taken me to the Yule Ball that year.

"Not really." I said. "I was thinking of…well… The people who will never have this." I motioned to the rehearsal dinner going on around us.

"Cedric" His eyes misted over slightly at the name.

"Yes, and the others who should be here to celebrate and are not."

I felt slightly guilty turning his thoughts to the people who were dead and gone just to keep his mind off what I was really thinking. He was my friend, I'm sure he would have at least tried to understand. But for me it was too special and too close to want to share my dreams and even my realities of Fleur with anyone else.

It was the summer after our fifth year. Sirius had died during the Battle at the Department of Mysteries, and Harry was devastated. Although he tried very hard to be stoic and pretend nothing was wrong. I will admit I was a little obsessive about getting my OWL results. It's funny how I can hear Ron snort in my mind. All right if I'm going to be honest, even with myself, I was more than a little obsessive. I arrived at the Burrow to find her there in the kitchen. The woman of my dreams just standing there glowing softly as she always seems to do. Her smile when it was turned to me held something I didn't quite understand, and yet it made me melt all the same. Ginny, my only female friend, and I shared a room; she hated Fleur with a passion that burned like a nova. Thus I suppose it is pointless to say that I couldn't discuss my burning passion for the silver haired woman who was engaged to marry her brother. Oh, I tried to be supportive, and I think I must have succeeded, since Ginny never seemed to be the wiser. One would think someone would have figured it out. My heart broke every time I saw them together, and yet I relentlessly yearned for something I thought I would never have. Then it happened. It was four weeks before we were to leave for Hogwarts. I had just had another fight with Ron and was crying in the garden when I heard her.

"Pourquoi est-ce que vouz pleurez, ma belle,"" Her soft voice pierced through my haze of tears.

"I am not beautiful, Fleur" I replied.

"Oh, Je suis désolé. I am sorry, you feel zis way, 'Ermione, for eet is certainly not true. Now tell me, why ze tears?"

"It's nothing, just a fight with Ron." I answered getting lost once again in her blue eyes.

"Ah! Ma petite, I know how 'ard eet can be to deal with ze men. Sometimes it seems as eef ze are not worth it at all." she continued "Zen zere ees ze one that comes along and makes it all worth eet, like my Bill. I will tell you a seecret, eef you would like."

I told her I would and she whispered in my ear. "Bill ees one of ze few men I 'ave ever wanted to be with, and trust me Ma belle fille, you are beautiful, and lovely. "

I don't know what possessed me at that point. I know it was illogical, I know she belonged to another but I couldn't help myself. My Gryffindor boldness came to the fore and I pressed my lips up against hers. It was like drinking in light. Her lips were sweeter and more addicting than the liquor I had had once at my fathers Christmas party. When her lips parted softly underneath my own and she gently brushed her tongue against my lips seeking entrance into my mouth I swooned. She tasted of almonds and honey. My hands treaded through her silken fall of hair. Her kiss was like a drink of fresh spring water to the parched dry ground that was my soul; I devoured it, and her, for I feared I would never get another. Her soft fingers stoked my cheek as she brought the kiss to a close and we pulled apart panting for the air neither of us had cared we were missing only moments before. My eyes met hers as my bravery failed me, I wanted to confess my love but I could not. With my face burning a shade of red that I think would have made a sunset proud, I did the only think I could think of, I ran.

Over the years I've become fairly adept at avoiding people. When I'm at school I usually just find a nice quiet, out of the way corner of the library to in which to hide. Here, at the Burrow, however it was certainly much more difficult. Maybe it was arrant cowardice, which I must admit I tried hard to not allow myself, but I made sure that even though I might see her around we were never alone. Now, don't get me wrong, I was not ashamed of my love for Fleur; I was very naïve. I just mean to say that I thought; what would she want with me when she had Bill. Oh, before I manage to confuse the hell out of you; I should point out that I am not gay. I have always been attracted to both men and women, although I will admit that my passion for Fleur was stronger than that for any man I had ever seen. The twins, Fred and George, had made my pulse speed up, even though their constant joking and pranking turned me off right quick. Bill, Charlie and Ron had also made my list of shagable men, although I was well aware Ron and I would have killed each other inside a year should we have ever tried any sort of relationship. There was a part of me that was just as jealous of Fleur being with Bill as the other way around. But, I digress. It was a week before I was supposed to return to Hogwarts; I was down by the pond enjoying the shade of a rather large and full willow tree when I saw them. Her pale skin glowed in the afternoon sun as he kissed his way down her body. He worshiped her flesh with such attention that I was in awe of him. Laving her skin with his tongue, and caressing her with his large hands. They moved together as if they were dancing. Their bodies undulating to a rhythm and melody only they could hear. She gasped and tensed as he hit an overly responsive spot, and I could almost feel it myself. He growled low in his chest and my body purred in response. They were enchanting, lovely, and so utterly beautiful that it did not feel wrong to be watching them. And I wanted nothing so much as to run my lips over them both, to taste the sweat from their skin, to be with them in that moment. They came together and after they rested they walked back toward the house hand in hand; I sat underneath my tree and cried.

I come back now to where I started. The rehearsal dinner will be over shortly then the girls, Tonks, Ginny, Gabrielle, and myself will all be joining Fleur at The Jolie Rogue, the new wizarding club that opened last month off Diagon Alley. It is what to muggles is commonly called a Hen Party. An evening of alcohol and dancing, one last hurrah before Fleur becomes Mrs. William Weasley. Almost a full year has past since that day I wept at the sight of Fleur and Bill making love in the sunlight by a shimmering pond. That sight carried me though the next year, as well as the memory of her lips on mine. One year of pain and heartache that seemed even now to cast a shadow over the happy event.

The drinks are flowing with a speed that should make me nervous, but for some reason I cannot name it doesn't. Wizarding Mixed drinks which change color, or sparkle in the light and the taste? Some taste like fruit, others like herbs, or spices. One drink, which I have become rather passing fond, tastes like her. Like honey, almonds and light combined into a libation the color of her eyes. I leaned my head up against the back of the couch and closed my eyes listening to the music and trying to shut out the feelings that rampage through my body at her nearness. It takes me awhile to notice that the room has quieted significantly. I open my eyes to find myself staring into hers. I sweep the room with my gaze to find we are quite alone, a circumstance I have until now managed to avoid for over a year. I set my drink down on the table and pause, trying desperately to think of something to say.

"Ma Belle fille, why do you look so stricken?" She asks me her voice breathy and low in that sultry tone that makes me shudder. Her eyes bore into mine carrying none of the reproach I thought I would see there, and none of the revulsion I had been so afraid of.

"I do not know." I reply

"Why did you run from me zat day?"

"I was afraid." I say, trying desperately to avoid those eyes, which will make me fall so much deeper in love than I already am. "I didn't want to ruin anything for you and Bill."

"Mon cher coeur, you could never 'ave ruined Bill and I. Love, eet is not a fixed thing, once given to one eet is not denied to all others. I 'ave waited over a year to taste your sweet lips. Do not deny me now." Her breath ghosted over my lips as she leaned closer to me, and once again I could not help myself. This time I claimed her lips with a passion born from a years worth of denial.. This kiss was not gentle for all that it was very sweet.. She threaded her fingers through my hair and returned my kiss with equal fervor. Our tongues danced against one another fighting for dominance. One of her hands left my hair to travel stealthily down my neck and shoulders to rest on my breast and I moaned into her mouth. I released her mouth and gasped for air, as her lips skated down my throat and she lightly bit the juncture of my neck and shoulders. I know I have never wanted anything in my life so much as I wanted her in that moment.

Fortunately for my sanity, she seemed to desire to give me everything I craved. The dream I had had so long ago came true that night, on a viridian couch in the private room of the club. I was right; she did taste sweet. Her lips still tasted of honey and almonds, her skin of blood oranges and cloves. I know now the look on her face as she comes apart for me. I know the unique flavor of her release, Chartreuse mixed with sweet rum. Her body as intoxicating as any drink could ever be. I know the almost predatory smile that precedes her attack on my body. I know the gentle way she plays my flesh as if it is the finest instrument in the world and she is the artist it was meant for. She was my first love and my first lover, whatever happens now at least I will always have that.

I awoke the next morning with her name on my lips and a pain in my heart from her absence. It was her wedding day. I needed to act as if everything was normal, as if watching the love of your life marry another could be construed as even remotely normal. I watched her, a vision in her silver gown walk down the isle to meet the red haired wizard—his face still bearing the scars he acquired in the Hogwarts battle earlier in the year. They seemed to only give his handsome face more character. The vows were uttered and they kissed for the first time as man and wife. I must say I was particularly glad that day for the assumption that women always cry at weddings; otherwise my friends would have wondered why I was crying. Although the actual ceremony was very short, the reception was scheduled to go on for the remainder of the afternoon and much of the evening. I tried to dance, to laugh, to forget, but the pain never went away. After my third dance with Remus, Professor Lupin, I snuck away from the party and headed to the pond. I sat on the bank, in the same spot where I had watched them make love, and let my heart break. I cried until I was numb inside, until I knew I could face them again. One might believe I should have figured out that she would follow me. I am not considered to be a stupid girl, it should have been obvious to me, but it wasn't.

I could smell her skin as she sank down next to me on the soft grass. Her voice was soft and concerned as she brushed my hair off my face. I don't recall what I said in that moment caught up as I was by the closeness of her.

"Ma petite amour, you 'ave not lost me. Not eef you choose not to. My 'eart ees big enough for you both, I want you both. Zat ees eef you want zis."

"But what will Bill think? I can't lie to him. I'm not that kind of a person." I replied even though my heart was breaking all the more.

"Zat ees easy---" She began only to be cut off by a deep voice from behind us.

"If you want to know what I think, you should probably ask me."

I gasped and turned quickly to see him standing behind us leaning his back against the trunk of the Rowan tree that stood there. Even in this situation the analytical part of my brain was thinking about the fact that Rowan is good for protection and I could use all the protection I could get right now. Summoning all of my courage I looked into his soft blue eyes and asked the question.

"Well, what do you think?"

His eyes lit up and sparkled in a way that reminded me of Dumbledore at his battiest.

He replied, "I think that you are a beautiful, charming, intelligent and passionate young witch and if my wife loves you, which it is obvious to me that she does. Then I would never question her impeccable taste in women by denying her one of the things that would make her happy. Besides, I've always wondered if you taste like autumn."

I was stunned, of course, by his small speech. While the words processed in my mind I grasped upon the only statement that didn't make sense.

"Like Autumn?" I inquired.

"It's your hair," He blushed as he spoke. "It is all brown and red and gold, all the colors of the forest in the fall. I've always wondered if you would taste the way autumn smells… all spicy and smoky… like home."

"Maybe, mon amour, you should find out for yourself." Fleur suggested.

Bill pushed away from the tree and strode across the grass to me. He knelt down before me and grasping me around the waist pulled me close to him. His lips slanted down across mine and he devoured my mouth fanning the coals that had always burned for him into a raging fire. His kiss was not sweet or gentle; it was a possession. He burned the memory of himself across my lips and into my soul. He released me only when Fleur sighed. He turned me in his lap and swept my hair aside, his lips trailing down my neck. Fleur claimed my mouth with her sweet kiss as he bit gently at the base of my neck, she purred as I moaned into her mouth. She pulled away reluctantly.

"We must be getting back Mes amours..." Fleur said "Ze will be wondering where we 'ave gone."

Bill sighed, "I know… but this is not over." He looked at me and smiled. "You do taste like autumn you know." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, on it was written a hotel and room number. "This is where we will be tonight, please come and join us."

I was flabbergasted by the implication. I mean did he really want what I thought he did? As my mind tried to make sense of it all Fleur laughed. I turned bewildered eyes on her in confusion.

"'Ow did you know?" She asked through her laughter. "I was going to tell you but zere 'ad not been the chance."

"Come now love, I have two of the greatest pranksters in history for brothers, we booby trapped the room with listening and watching charms. I saw everything last night."

I blushed quite a vivid shade of red I must admit. But he reached out and caressed my cheek, smiling into my eyes. I know this is a lot to take in all at once Hermione… but I would be happy to have you join us. Be ours I promise I will try to make you happy.

They tell me the smile I gave them in that moment was like the sun emerging from the clouds to beat it's bright light down upon the earth. I tell them they are sentimental fools. That night in a quaint little hotel outside of Cornwall, Bill divested me of my physical virginity and we pledged our love to Fleur with out lips and our bodies, allowing her to bind our souls to hers.

As I write this now it has been four years since that fateful day, our anniversary, the day I committed myself to their hearts and lives. I will not insult your intelligence and tell you that everyone was instantly please about our situation when we finally allowed it to be known. I mean it's not everyday that you shake the moral foundations of a staid and traditional society. It took a long time for everyone to accept our love, but they all came around in the end, even Ron. One day when you read this I hope you will understand, that while your family may be different than that of your friends, love is the binding factor. Fleur suggested I write this all down for you so one day you would understand. So there it is… for you, Siria Helene Weasley. My only wish for you is that one day you find someone you love as much as I love your father and Fleur. Happy Birthday little one--

Love always,

Mom

AN: French Translations:

Pourquoi est-ce que vouz pleurez, ma belle – Why do you cry my beautiful one?

Je suis désolé. --I am sorry.

Ma petite- my little one

Ma belle fille – my beautiful girl

Mon Cher coeur – my dear heart

Mon amour—my love / ma petite amour – my little love

Mes amours—my loves