Author's note: Please take note of the story legends below to understand the story flow.
Bold - past
normal - present
The character speaks in Franglais therefore her ds are missing the letter 'h' and the 'th' are written as 'z'
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
For a Thousand Years, Chéri
In her arms lies the woman she loved, drawing her last breaths. The woman who owns her heart that never ends in beating, was looking at her with a forlorn smile. A smile stained by blood running down the corner of her pale lips. She couldn't help but cry as she held her lover's hand over her cheeks. She looked at those chocolate-brown eyes, slowly losing its bright gleam, with teary affection and listened to her ragged breath.
"Even when crying... you're still enticing."
Her tears fell like waterfalls. "You are..." sniff. "Jezting mi'lady. 'Ze only one 'oo eez enthralling eez you."
Her lover chuckled until she drew a heavy breath. The hand that was on her cheek moved down to trace her lips. She placed some kisses on those pale fingers that made her lover let out a chuckle.
"Those lips... I would miss them. But..."
"But I would miz you more, mon trésor,"
"Yes."
Her lover looked at the sky which she looked as well. Dusk.
"My love..."
"Yes mi'lady?"
Both did not look at each other. Her tears still fell as she watched the sky.
"Don't blame yourself. It was..."
"Non! 'zon't... feeneez 'zat!" Her blonde hair bristled as her voice went higher. Anger filled her chest. But her lover, breathing ragged, laughed. she looked down and felt like her heart melt at how happy she looks. "W'at eez funny?"
Her lover continue to laugh until she coughed from lack of breath. But as soon as her coughing fit ended, her hands that covered her mouth, she looked at her lover's pale hands and found blood on them. Blue eyes dilated, changing from ocean-blue to fiery red. "Kill... I will kill thoze bâtard!" she growled, holding her lover close. "Fils de putain!"
"Darling..."
"What?"
She watched how her lover gave her a weak smile, lips smeared in blood.
"I love you..."
She open her lips, hoping to answer her lover's words, when everything went silent.
No heavy breathing.
No whispered words.
No heartbeat.
Nothing.
"Je te aime... Rosalie."
—
Years.
The woman who cannot die has lost count on how many years it has been since her lover, Rosalie, died in her arms. Rosalie, a muggle-born witch, was assassinated while staying at her villa. She investigated the reason behind the act and found that there are pure-blood witches who went on killing those who they deemed as 'mudblood'. Rosalie had it worse for not only being a mudblood but also staying with her, a half-breed. A quarter-Veela who inherited her grand-mère's blood which made her immortal. And also being the head of the European Veela clan.
But when Rosalie died, those of her clan all thought of how their leader lost the will to love. Sure her leadership did not falter. In fact, she led the Veela clan to be a respected clan and even the wizarding ministry have high regards on them. And yet, they all see how broken their leader is.
Uncountable years.
She cannot remember how long it has been but she still remember everything about the woman with unruly chestnut colored hair and chocolate-brown eyes. How Rosalie' eyes lit up at the sight of books, especially when entering her clan's library. How Rosalie would lecture her about things both muggle and wizards. How Rosalie ignored the insults thrown at her. And how everyone in the clan thinks Rosalie is her leash.
Her clan urged her to find a new lover. But no matter how hard she tries, no one can replace Rosalie in her heart.
But no matter how much she tries, her heart cannot accept a new love. She cannot love someone like she had loved Rosalie.
That is until her fourth year at the prestigious school, Beubaxtons, which everything once again changed.
Sure she's been living for while now, her family are, but there are times she needs to retake her schooling and refresh and relearn things about the wizarding world. So with the school's sudden decision to join the widely-known competition, the Triwizard Tournament, she was one of those who have been picked to go to a school in Scotland called Hogwarts.
Her clan, mostly those who were picked as well, all know she'll be the champion of Beaubaxton and hoped that the small spice in her life would liven her up. Excitement filled everyone aside from her. She just looked outside the window of her room and reminisce about her beloved Rosalie.
—
"W'at are you doing 'ere, mon trésor?"
Rosalie looked up from the book she's reading and smiled at her. "Oh hello my darling. As you can see, I'm reading here." She wriggled the book in her hand to show it to Fleur.
"I can zee 'zat. But my queztion... W'at are you doing 'ere, in my room?"
Rosalie placed the book down and approached her, wrapping her arms around her neck. She felt her lover place a quick kiss on her lips and showed her a wide smile. "Well, I heard from one of your family that a certain Veela is overworked. So I decided to give her a massage."
This made her grin and pull her lover into an embrace. "O'? 'Zen-" Her embrace turned into carrying her lover in her arms and walked towards her bed. "Let'z ztart 'zen?"
Her lover laughed and kissed her passionately while still in her arms. Those arms around her neck pulled her closer in the kiss, making her smile.
"Je te aime Rosalie."
Rosalie kissed her nose and did an eskimo kiss. "And I love you too-"
—
"Sœur! Eet eez time! Allons-y!" her sister shouted from the door, snapping her out of her memory about Rosalie.
"Sœur!"
She finally acknowledged her little sister, who she found in a ridiculous outfit, and nodded at her. Silently telling her sister that she'll be ready. Her sister, Gabrielle, left while shouting different French curses and all about her frilly dress. It was those rare moments she smiles at something other than her memories.
All of them are not fond of Hogwarts. How cold it is. Their mischievous ghosts and all ghosts. The gawking boys and the moody girls. The only good thing about the said place is their enchanted ceilings. After Durmstrang, those she hated the most for being the reason of Rosalie's death, entered the spacious hall, they all settled in a table full of witches and wizards who mostly talk about facts, books, schools, and lessons. Her clan would like those Hogwarts students very well.
—
"Tell me, my love, since you cannot..."
"Die?" She chuckled at how Rosalie's too pure at times.
"Yes, that word. Since you cannot -that word-, will you still love me even if I'm no longer breathing?"
This made her think for a second and only smiled at her lover dashingly.
—
She was pulled out of her thoughts when one of her classmate said that there was no more Bouillabaisse. Since she was the clan leader, and the fact that sitting with strangers gawking at her, she told her family that she'll ask for some from the other table.
Her family, clan, all thanked her in glee and she could only shake her head with a small smile on her face. Her family sometimes act like a child.
Approaching the table filled with red and gold, she had to hold her scowl at how the boys looked at her with lust. Oh how she sometimes hate her passive ability. Her Thrall. Ignoring their stares and swoons, she went to where the dish is and hoped that those who are dining there will give her Bouillabaisse that her classmates wanted.
"Excusez-moi."
Two boys, one redhead and another dark-haired with glasses, looked up to her. The redhead boy almost choke when his eyes laid upon her while the glasses boy looked stunned.
"Are you still wanting 'ze Bouillabaisse?" She asked, hoping they would give it to her. It looked like it they didn't even touched it.
"Nggh.. gah?" The redhead boy said incoherently.
She has to stop herself from sneering at the redheaded boy. That is until she heard the next person who spoke.
"Oh for the love of Merlin! You're bloody drooling, Ron!"
Blue eyes darted to where the voice came from and watched the girl leaned forward and took the dish in the middle of them. She examined her intently, taking note of how her brown bushy hair bounced along her shoulder, and her back arched upon leaning to the dish.
"Here, you can take it."
The student wearing a red and yellow scarf turned around with the dish in her hand, looking annoyed. Her breath suddenly hitched upon seeing those chocolate-brown eyes, looking at her in annoyance.
"Well?"
—
"Well?"
"Well w'at, my dear?"
Her lover flicked her nose and pouted. "Will you still love me even if I'm no longer alive?"
She placed a chaste kiss over her lover's lips and smiled at her. "Oui mon trésor."
Rosalie nodded her head with a wide smile. "Then, even if it take me a thousand years. If I, you know, go and be with the stars, I'll be reborn. Because you'll go all grumpy-pants on everyone here if I were gone."
"'Zen my treasure, even for a thousand years, I will wait for you, Rosalie Granger.."
—
"Well? Are you going to take it?"
She blinked, realizing she's been staring at the brunette before her. Her eyes looked at the dish in her hand and gently took it from her. "A' merci."
The brunette was about to go back to her seat when she called for her attention.
"Yes?"
"May I know your name, mi'lady?" She asked, hoping that the brunette would answer her. The men surrounding them all looked at the brunette then to her, as if waiting for their schoolmate to answer.
"I don't tell my name to strangers."
Stubbornness. It was one of Rosalie's most annoying yet lovable trait. and here the woman before her, who resembled her past lover, also has the same stubborn look as Rosalie. "'Zen let me introduce myzelf. Je me appelle Fleur Isabelle Delacour." she said, silently casting a levitation spell on the dish and outstretching her now free right hand to the brunette.
She watched how the brunette looked at her hand then to her. "Oh-kay? I'm Hermione Jean Granger. Charmed." the brunette said, taking her hand. With her hand taken by the brunette and she raised it to her lips and placed a kiss on it.
"A pleazure to meet you, ma chérie Granger." She said with a sweet smile.
—
"Mon trésor?"
"Yes my dear?"
"If you are to be reborn. What name do you 'zink you will 'ave?"
Rosalie closed her book and looked up to her with a cheeky smile. "Hmm Maybe Jean or Hermione."
"'Zen I'll take note of eet. And If I we're to meet a snobbish, stubboring, know-eet-all brunette wi'z a 'air of a lionne, and ei'zer of 'zose namez-"
"Love her as her and not as me."
She nodded. "Oui. 'Zere will only be one Rozalie in my 'eart. but Eef after a thouzand yearz and I meet a 'Ermione..."
—
After their first meeting, after the second wizarding war, Fleur took Hermione in France in her family's estate and pulled her in her room. She looked at those chocolate-brown eyes that gleamed of love and sorrow after the whole ordeal. She lost her immortality after exchanging it for Hermione's life who has been in a life-and-death situation while fighting the DeathEaters. But she's not sadden of her immortality being stripped off her.
"'Ermione..."
"Yes Fleur?"
"Je te aime 'Ermione Jean Granger. From now until my lazt breathe..."
"And I love you as well Fleur. I had loved you before as Rosalie, and now as Hermione, that would never change."
Fleur smiled and placed a kiss on Hermione's forehead. "For a Thousand years, chéri."