Summary: Hermione Granger keeps waking up in Fleur Delacour's bed. Naked.
A/N: Had to get this out of my head. I'll update Chapt2 of Souvenirs tomorrow. Pinky promise! AU where Fleur doesn't get married...well..not to Bill... ;) Un-beta'd so I'm sorry for any mistakes.
Breakfast
She thought she had skipped over that stage already; partying late, coming back with strange men and waking up with an astounding headache. Technically though, she hadn't partied extremely hard or late, her and Fleur fell into bed before midnight. Nor was Fleur a strange man. And Fleur had made her drink a glass of water beforehand so her headache was more of an occasional throb.
I hate Mondays, Hermione thought.
She was laying in Fleur's bed, smelling like Fleur and she was sure there was some of Fleur's lipstick still marking her chest and neck. When she first woke up she thought last night was another one of her bizarre dreams but, even in her dreams, satin sheets didn't feel this good.
Except, she didn't own satin sheets.
And she was utterly, inexplicitly naked.
Hermione let out a groan, hands coming up to cover her face in sheer embarrassment as the force of all the facts came down onto her.
"Not again."
The first time it happened, they were celebrating Harry and Ron's capture of an escaped giant at the local pub.
"An' then he grabbed me, right by the torso," Ron slurred, wildly waving his hands in exaggeration. "Felt like a ton of bricks trying to squeeze my insides out and Harry, mate you were out cold when he kicked ya."
Harry laughed, nodding. "Next thing I know, I'm waking up to some wood nymphs carrying me by the arms and legs through the forest. Turns out, Ron had tickled the poor guy into submission and the nymphs were watching the whole thing!"
"They wanted to thank us," Ron winked, finishing the last of his ale. "But Harry, so damn responsible, said 'I'm sorry, I we've got to get the troll back right away' and ran from the nymphs. The Boy-Who-Lived! Running from wood nymphs!"
Harry blushed, George and Ron roared with laughter. Fleur sipped on her wine, quietly enjoying the conversation. Hermione allowed her eyes to dance between her friends. It was good to see them again after Ron and Harry disappeared on their most recent adventure, George was left to manage his shop alone and was constantly busy…and Fleur….
Her eyes slipped over to the curious Frenchwoman sitting diagonally from her. Even in a crowded bar scene, Fleur drew enormous attention. She was easily the prettiest woman in the room and muggles, unable to see the faint silvery glow around her, wasn't even remotely aware of her magical charm. As if on cue, a drink was delivered by a scantily clad waitress. This cut Hermione's train of thoughts. The beer wasn't helping either.
"From the gentleman in the blue tie, Fleur." The waitress, Hadley, nodded to the right. "Is he a keeper?"
Fleur shook her head without looking.
"Wait!" George nearly stood from his seat, hands flashing upwards next to him as if he were a traffic guard. Hadley stopped in her tracks. "I have a game."
"Always with the games," Ron snorted. "Go on now. Out with it."
"For every drink Fleur gets tonight, we drink. First one to back out takes the tab."
"That's completely unfair." Hermione declared dizzily, "You Weasleys have an obnoxiously large amount of tolerance. And Fleur's French!"
"What's zat got to dew wit anything 'Ermione?" Fleur asked, faking her accent.
"You know you actually used to sound like that? All the time." Hermione replied, smirking and daringly raising an eyebrow. The table broke into laughter again, Ron howling and beating his fists on the table. "And I see you out on your balcony, sipping away on your wine, you alcoholic."
Fleur's eyes narrowed, still sparkling with mirth. "You're going to pay for that," she whispered dangerously before turning over to their patient waitress. "Give us a round of whiskey."
"Game on."
The table cheered. Harry looked scared.
By the end of the night, they were too tired and happy to care about the tab, splitting it evenly five ways. It was always like this with George's games; very rarely did they have to actually suffer the consequences. The jokester disappeared in the alleyway to apparate home to "his baby", a name he lovingly called his shop. Ron and Harry, sharing a flat, stumbled home together trying and failing to keep each other upright.
Hermione couldn't remember which direction her own flat was in but knew that it was in the opposite direction of Ron and Harry's so she turned her back to them and began walking. An arm snuck around her waist to help her steady herself.
"Are we goin' in the right direction?" Hermione asked, leaning on Fleur.
The blonde hummed.
"You surrre?"
Fleur laughed, "I am fairly certain, ma chérie."
"I am so fairly drunk." Hermione declared into the cool night air, taking vast interest in the swaying streetlamps. It was fairly romantic.
There, there that thought was. The one that bubbled from out of nowhere. She had been thinking about something… her thoughts and Fleur being strange but she couldn't recall it. Certainly, it wasn't important then. Besides, Fleur was too pretty not to stare at. The several rounds of alcohol, whiskey, beer, tonic that tasted like petrol, whiskey again and…Hermione couldn't remember.
But Fleur sure was pretty.
"What are you smilin' at?" Fleur asked, pulling her to the inside of the street to avoid traffic.
"You." Hermione grinned. "You're so pretty, yknow that?"
"So, I've been told. Doesn't hurt if I hear it from you more often though."
"I'm mentally rolling my eyes. You're that vain."
Fleur's laugh, an elegant and graceful chime, marked with husky breaths rang through the night.
They stumbled into their apartment building a few minutes after, both groaning at the broken elevator. At least we live only on the third floor, Hermione thought, dragging herself up the stairs with Fleur in tow. Fleur, not any less drunk but having a wee bit more control over her motor skills began playfully shoving Hermione forward.
"No pushing!" Hermione commanded, bossy as always.
When they reached Fleur's doorstep, Hermione turned back around, facing the blonde, and pushed back.
"Serves you right." Hermione teased.
Fleur chuckled, trying to stand up straight but was unsuccessful, needing to grab ahold of Hermione's arm. "You're in front of my door," Fleur observed then gestured to the door adjacent to hers. "You live there. Me, here."
"I know." Hermione wasn't sure why she was being so stubborn. Maybe because, technically, Fleur won at their drinking game and she wasn't done extracting her revenge on Fleur's abuse of her spanning three flights of stairs.
"Hermione Granger." Fleur declared, "I am very drunk and would like to go to bed so déplacer s'il vous plait."
"I speak-o the English-o."
"You are such a smartarse. Now move."
Hermione crossed her arms, defiant. She loved it when Fleur lost her composure. In response, Fleur moved closer until their hips bumped into each other. Hermione was pleasantly—no, unpleasantly—surprised when the taller woman's breasts suddenly came into contact with hers. Her mind began to buzz, even more unclear than before.
"Make me."
Fleur, as if it were somehow possible, leaned in even closer until their foreheads touched-tongue wetting kissable, lipstick stained lips. Impossibly blue eyes, somewhat heavy lidded, looked at her with want. Hermione felt electricity shoot from her stomach to the space between her legs. A soft gentle hand fell onto her pelvic bone, tracing the curve of the bone that was covered in jeans and the higher, skyward, under her shirt until a single thumb rested on Hermione's skin.
"Don't tempt me."
"You don't see me moving." Hermione replied even when her knees felt like they were about to give out on her. Her lips didn't close all the way when she finished speaking and they drew Fleur's eyes, pupils dilated.
At the same time that their lips were about to meet Fleur's keys slipped into the apartment's doorknob and Hermione, who had been leaning against the door, lost balance and staggered backwards. She was briefly disappointed at the loss of contact until Fleur's hand, the one that had been partly under her shirt, making her skin hot and goosebump pulled her until they were just as close as before and then—even closer.
Hermione wasn't sure who kissed who first.
The rest of her memories blurred as she tried to recall them the morning after. The bits after their kiss that she could remember made her face turn a disastrous shade of red. To make matters worse, Fleur acted as if nothing had happened, as if Hermione hadn't run out of her room and into her own home next door. The French woman even had the audacity to knock on her door, barely three hours since Hermione made her escape to return a black laced bra.
"You forgot this." Fleur said, smiling casually, a pink blush spread across her face.
Hermione took her undergarment and closed the door with barely a word of goodbye.
The second time it had happened, it was barely a week after the first incident. Hermione's resolve to avoid alcohol for the rest of her life was not strong. Besides, Fleur acted as if nothing happened. She should too.
It did bother her though. A small part of her wanted Fleur to react, to act as if having sex meant something.
They were at their usual spot in their usual pub. Everything was usual. Hadley was even there, waitressing as she always did. Hermione drank too much, that was not usual. Fleur kept glancing up at her, that wasn't usual either. George was telling them about a girl he had met at his shop. Hermione couldn't concentrate.
"Are you alright, 'Mione?" Harry asked, boyishly pushing up his glasses.
"Rough day at the Ministry." She replied curtly. Fleur was looking at her again.
"You ought to try workin with this bugger here." Ron said, "Does nothing but try to get the ladies."
George snickered. "Hurry up and finish your auror's training so you can run away with Harry again. Maybe you'll come back married next time."
Ron turned purple. Harry turned sickly pale.
Fleur laughed. "Are you two…?"
"No. No!" Ron spoke first. Harry shook his head furiously in agreement.
Fleur shrugged, looking at Hermione. "Nothing wrong with it."
Of course theres nothing wrong with it! Hermione wanted say. Whats wrong is you're my friend in the daytime and then shag me at night!
"Whatever floats your boat." George nodded. "If Hermione decided she wanted become a beaver muncher overnight, I say go for it!"
Hermione's face burned. The table laughed. Fleur wouldn't stop looking at her.
"Would you do it?" George suggestively wiggled his fire red eyebrows, "Would you jump the fence?"
Not knowing what else say, Hermione shot back, "Would you?"
Would she?
The table silenced, waiting for an answer. George shrugged, "I guess, it comes down to the person. If the Right one happen to be a guy, well, he's a guy! But at the current moment? I have Ms. Right Now and she's gorgeous..."
She wasn't sure when their group had formed such a close bond.
Maybe it was after the war, George still trying to find a way to make ends meet without Fred there. He was so lost. Naturally, Ron stepped up to help him. Harry followed since his position as an auror allowed him to live almost anywhere. He met Fleur at Gringott's one day, turned out the couple living in the apartment next to her was moving (something about the husband and his sudden crush on Fleur), Hermione needed a place to stay since she just graduated from Hogwarts and soon to start an internship at the Ministry of Law.
They fell into London like matching puzzle pieces, naturally making a family out of similar happenstances.
Hermione also wasn't sure how she ended up in Fleur's bed again, that Friday night. Fleur had helped her home, it was customary. Then they were kissing, cloths aggressively shredded by Hermione's own hands, Fleur was on top of her, mumbling things in French, they were very naked. Come morning time, she experienced the same horror as the previous week. Satin sheets and a blurry recount of last night's events. Too soft pillows, Fleur's arm draped (lovingly) around her, the faint smell of vanilla, sunlight and autumn surrounding her.
Hermione stiffened when she felt the bed shift beneath her. Fleur got up slowly, landing three kisses that trailed from her jaw, cheek and then, hesitantly, lips. Hermione's heart thumped hard against her ribcage. She wondered if the other witch could hear it.
"J'attends le jour où vous sentez la même manière, ma cheire" The blonde whispered, getting out of bed. With her eyes closed, she could hear Fleur make her way to the restroom, the bathroom door closing.
Hermione leapt from the bed, heart still thundering in her ears. She tried to find the remnants of her cloths that trailed from the doorway all the way to the bed. Her underwear and trousers lay conveniently on the floor in plain view, she dashed for them first.
My shirt, Hermione thought as she picked up her bra and put them on. She wasn't about to have another delivery to her door. Where'd Fleur throw my shirt?
"Your shirt," Fleur said, standing at the doorway to her restroom, toothbrush in her mouth. "I threw it over the kitchen counter."
Hermione ran her hand through her dark, curly locks, averting her gaze from Fleur's naked frame to the carpeted floor.
"Thanks."
As she was putting it on, Fleur called from the restroom. "Would you like to stay for breakfast?"
How could Fleur sound so normal? We had just rolled in bed together. Again!
"N-No. Thanks." Hermione sprinted for the door.
Hermione let out a groan, hands coming up to cover her face in sheer embarrassment as the force of all the facts came down onto her.
"Not again."
For some inescapable reason, everytime she was in a social setting with Fleur that involved alcohol, she ended up in bed with her. This time is was Harry's surprise birthday party.(Too much rum). It was frustrating at the very least. The blonde didn't help by completely disregarding the events and acting as if everything was normal. She even invited Hermione out to shop with her the day after their second fumble!
Hermione heard the door unlock and didn't bother to look up to see who it was.
"Bonjour Hermione. I am glad to see you awake." Fleur came in holding a bag of groceries. Magically, she assembled them all into the cupboards. "Would you like breakfast?"
There was the casual offer again. Hermione clung onto her sheets, gripping them tight to her body as frustration boiled over her.
"How can you act like nothing's happened?" Angry tears welled in her eyes, she wiped them away.
Fleur's voice came through from the kitchen. "How would you like me to react?"
"At least acknowledge that it happened."
"Okay, we had sex. Three times." Hermione could still hear Fleur clanging around in the kitchen. "Good sex too, if memory serves."
"That's it? Was that what I was? Another notch on your bedpost?" Disgust and shame pushed its way up her stomach like acid, burning.
"Of course not."
"So why won't you act like it mattered?"
"Because you won't."
"I—what?" Hermione stood up, sheets barely clinging to her body and marched to Fleur. "I don't—"
"—you're always the one to leave." Fleur shrugged, "I'm always here for breakfast, this is my home, but you always run off. I took it as a sign that you didn't want it to be mentioned again. Was I wrong?"
No. Yes
Hermione took a seat on a stool, watching Fleur arrange two sets of plates on the counter, toast and silverware levitating to their place. "I'm here now."
"What would you like to discuss?" The taller, older witch sounded so distant and guarded, unlike her usual friendly self.
"This." Hermione swallowed, "How I end up in your bed once every weekend."
"We go out. We have fun, drink a little—or a lot. I unlock my door, we kiss, it usually goes something like that. Not that big of a deal."
"Not that big of a deal? So you just have sex with your friends for fun?" Fleur scraped the eggs and sausage onto the plates. The fry landed loudly in the sink.
"I didn't say that."
"Then what are you saying Fleur?" Hermione pleaded, "Because sometimes, you're my friend and you do my nails because I suck at them and you're honestly good company but then sometimes, you look at me like…"
"...like what?" Hermione scoffed, heat rising to her cheeks. She should have thought before she spoke. "How do I look at you?"
Her gaze trailed from the breakfast on the kitchen counter to the woman standing beside her. "Like that. Like you want something more out of all of this."
"Doesn't matter. Even if I did want something more, I'm sure you don't." Fleur eyes turned downcast. "You don't, right?"
"N-no. Of course not." Hermione wondered where the disappointment had come and why it suddenly burned in her chest. "I'm sure it's just because you and I are twenty-three, twenty-five and single—"
"—if I kissed you right now, you wouldn't feel a thing, right?"
Before Hermione could respond, Fleur had transversed the space between them, allowing their lips to brush. Hermione's face heated up, her heart raced, her once clear thoughts blurred, and the world behind her closed eyes exploded with color. Out of instinct, Hermione opened her own mouth, sucking in Fleur's bottom lip.
Fleur moaned and Hermione decided that it was the sexiest noise, ever. It had awoken a deep hunger that shot to her core. The younger witch surged forward, standing upright so fast that the stool was sent clanging onto the floor—not that she cared. Sheets pooled at her feet as Fleur pulled her closer, one hand resting on her hip, the other gently guided Hermione's head to the side, exposing her neck. Fleur's lips trailed from her own to her jawline and followed it's curve to her ear.
"Tell me you don't feel anything, that it means nothing to you." As Fleur spoke, her voice got considerably softer until it was only a whisper. "Tell me now and this will all stop. I cannot resist you much longer."
Hermione whimpered. She couldn't deny it. Just as the request had been met with silence, their lips met again, this time braver and more desperate. Fleur knew her answer.
Second smutty part to come, soon.
Hurrr see what I did there. Thanks for reading! :) Send any prompts you have to my tumblr listed on my profile page. :) I love response as usual, they inspire me. My favorite review/response, by far, has been a passive aggressive anon telling me how much they ship Fleurmione thanks to me and how they hate me for it. *proud* Shoutout to all the lovely people who read this AND Souvenirs, you're awesome.