Noémie lingered after class, wanting to save her mother any more humiliation before the next class entered.
"Oh, well if it isn't little miss moody." Hermione teased, stacking the assignments on her desk as the students filed out eagerly. "Just because you're frustrated with your mum and me doesn't mean you can slack off in our classes, Noémie. I know you know the material; I expect you to be participating." The brunette scolded, her tone serious. Especially considering that Noémie had just been sorted into Ravenclaw; it wasn't a situation where the young girl should be letting her knowledge go to waste.
"Oui, ma mère, je suis désolé." Noémie apologized, a bit unsure of how to word what she was going to say next. Was it better for her to let the topic go? Knowing her mother, Hermione would feel incredibly foolish. Then again, if she'd heard from any other kid in class, she'd feel betrayed by her own daughter. "Mère," the young girl began, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Hermione, noticing that her daughter was having some difficulty, furrowed her brows and waited for her daughter to go on. "Some of the other kids were talking in class, and…" Noémie trailed off, rocking on her heels.
"What happened, sweetheart?" Hermione wondered, kneeling down so that she was eye level with her daughter, worry in her gentle brown eyes. Hesitantly, Noémie leaned in and pressed her lips closely up against her mothers ear, revealing what had happened during class. When the eleven year old pulled away, Hermione's cheeks were rosy and the older witch felt mortified that a classroom full of eleven year olds were the first to see it.
"I'm sorry, Noémie." Hermione apologized, resting her head in her hands. One of them came up to undo the messy bun she'd thrown her hair into that morning, throwing her hair over one shoulder to cover the dark bruise. If anything, Hermione felt bad that Noémie was put in that position with all of her classmates. The young blonde shook her head, not thinking much of it. She valued her mothers image much more than her own. After clearing the air with her daughter, and answering any questions the girl might have had, Hermione brightened up and began to collect herself. "So how was your first night?" She asked her daughter, trying to adjust the topic.
For some reason, Noémie seemed to bond with Fleur much more on these types of subjects. She knew it was the Veela connection the two shared, and although a very small part of her was jealous of the bond, she knew she was Noémie's mother just as much as Fleur was. There were just other things they bonded over. "It was okay. Some of us stayed up and talked a bit, but most of us were tired." Noémie explained, gathering her bag from her desk and handing her assignment to her mother. "I really should go, I've got broomsticks lessons." The blonde grimaced; like Hermione, she wasn't a huge fan of flying. The Syllabus, on the other hand, didn't quite care. Hermione gave her daughter a supportive smile, before the young witch was out the door.
Noémie made it to her next class with just a minute to spare, joining the rest of the her peers on the Quidditch pitch, along with some first years from each house, respectively. "Blimey, Noémie, you're just like your mum." Billius Weasley teased the blonde as she came up beside him, almost late. Snickering at her glare, the pair was drawn from their conversation by a familiar voice.
"Good morning, students." Harry Potter made his way onto the field, students parting like the Red Sea to allow the professor by. Behind him, a swarm of empty brooms followed in a crowd. Once he stopped, so did the brooms, aligning themselves on the field in two rows across from one another. Noémie and Billius caught Harry's eye, and he gave both of them a reassuring smile. "Welcome to your first flying lesson. My name is Professor Potter; you may know my face because...I am also the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor." He teased, earning some laughs, and some blank stares.
"Right. We're going to start by standing on the whatever side of the broom we are more dominant with. Stand to the left if you're using your right hand, to the right if you're using your left." Harry instructed, watching as the students chose a broom and took their positions. Noémie and Billius took spots next to one another. "For those of us who are bit wary about flying," Harry added, glancing at Noémie, "it's as simple as waving a wand, I promise. Alright, I want you to hover your dominant hand over the handle of the broom, and when you're ready to receive it, say up."
For some students it was second nature. One or two brooms shot up instantly, and after a second attempt, Noémie's broom found it's home in her hand. Smiling to herself, surprised, Noémie liked the way the wood felt in her grip. Billius got it shortly after, and Harry commended the both of them for their success. As he went on to explain the rest of the process, Harry didn't notice the Slytherin Quidditch team walking onto the pitch. "Oh, apologies, Professor." Cetus Malfoy caught the DADA professor's attention, as well as his little brothers, Scorpius. "I didn't know you had a class this morning. We were just going to prepare for our upcoming match next week." The sixteen year old explained apologetically.
"Go on and use half the pitch, we won't be using it much anyhow. Watch those bludgers." Harry instructed to the team, motioning to the other side of the field. Cetus nodded, leading the team towards the other half of the pitch, fussing up his little brothers hair as he passed him. "Oi, Cetus!" The blonde turned back to Harry, all ears. "Tell your dad to answer my owl. I'd kind of like an answer as quickly as possible."
"He'll be at the match next week, tell him yourself." Cetus jested back, a bright smile on his face. Harry chuckled, turning back to his students.
"Right then, who's ready to give it a go?" Murmurs erupted from the first years, friends volunteering each other until somebody was brave enough to step up. Scorpius, feeling the pressure from his brothers watchful eye and his title of Quidditch captain, felt it only made sense for him to raise his hand and mount his broom. In that moment, Noémie felt grateful for not having an older sibling and having to live in their shadow. The young Slytherin was graceful and concentrated in his task, and the first years below cheered and bellowed for their classmate as he dismounted the broom. Harry asked for another volunteer, and this time, Noémie felt confident in ability to fly. It was just like flicking a wand, Harry had send. "Good on you, Noémie." The professor smiled warmly.
Taking a deep breath, Noémie mounted her broom and slowly lifted herself off of the ground. Shutting her eyes tightly, she felt the nervous feeling in her stomach, before her brain told her to keep going. Exhaling, Noémie opened her eyes eventually and saw that she was higher up than she expected. The height, however didn't bother her all that much. Gripping onto the end of the broom, the young blonde slowly began to accelerate. A pleased giggle escaped her throat as the air began to whip through her hair, she felt free and as if nothing could hold her back. Something zipped past her ear, and Noémie turned her head quickly to catch a glance of a round object speeding past her. "Hey, look out!" A distant voice shouted, and Noémie saw a short, bat like object flying towards her.
Her first instinct was to reach out and catch it, and she did just that. Gripping the bat tightly, Noémie was unsure of what to do with the object before another round object was in her eyesight, flying straight towards her. She didn't know much about Quidditch, but she knew if this thing hit her, it would hurt. Reacting just quickly enough, Noémie swung the bat in her hand and sent the bludger flying in the opposite direction. A surge of pride swelled through her, but was short lived when she failed to focus on where she was flying. Before she knew it, Noémie's broom collided end first into a wooden beam, sending the eleven year old tumbling off of the broom and onto the ground below.
"I don't think it's a good idea, Fleur." Hermione sighed, though she knew in the end she'd end up giving in anyway, if it was what Noémie wanted. The couple stood on either side of a bed in the infirmary, their daughter sleeping soundly under the sheets, one of her arms wrapped in a sling. Fleur's delicate, long fingers ran over Noémie's forehead lovingly, tracing her perfect light skin.
"She may want to try it. We have to give her the option, at least." The blonde Veela countered with a small shake of her head, her hand moving from her daughter to grasp Hermione's across from her. Hermione nodded in agreement, knowing Fleur was right. She couldn't let her fear of Noémie getting hurt get in the way of something she might enjoy. The subject of their conversation began to stir in her bed, and the two women hushed the topic for a moment to awaken their daughter. "Bonjour Chérie." Fleur smiled widely, watching in admiration as Noémie slowly began to awake.
"How are we looking here?" Harry's voice rang through the Infirmary, soon coming up behind Hermione and Fleur. Noticing Noémie was awake, the man breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm so sorry, 'Mione, Fleur." He apologized, turning to face his best friend. Hermione waved it off, as long as there was no permanent damage, she had no reason to worry. "Have you given any thought to my question, then?" Harry asked a moment later, looking at Noémie apologetically.
"Bonjour, les mères." Noémie groaned lightly, feeling a numbness throughout her body. When Harry asked her how she was feeling, Noémie managed a half grin, giving a thumbs up with her good hand.
"Noémie, sweetheart. Uncle Harry has a question for you." Hermione lowered herself down so that she could place a kiss on her daughters forehead, smoothing her hair back. The Transfiguration professor was still worried about the idea that Harry was going to propose to her daughter, but didn't let that show.
"Noémie, how would you like to join the Ravenclaw Quidditch team as a beater?" Harry asked the young girl with an inviting smile. "Granted, it doesn't seem so fun now, I'm sure, but...it's quite a game." He promised Noémie, who took a moment to think. "You don't have to give me an answer now, kiddo. Take your time thinking, alright? Focus on getting better." He added, before bidding his goodbyes to Hermione and Fleur, and leaving the Infirmary.
"You should get some more sleep, Chérie." Fleur cooed, bending down to kiss Noémie's cheek. The young girls eyes were again falling from exhaustion, as well as the effects of her medication. "Your mother and I will come back after lunch to see you, oui?" She added softly, and in a matter of seconds, Noémie was once again asleep. Hermione and Fleur left the Infirmary shortly after, both heading to their quarters as neither of them had a class at this time. "She will be fine, Hermione." The blonde reassured her wife, wrapping an arm around her waist in the empty corridor.
Hermione sighed in defeat, supposing she had no other choice than to accept the fact that Noémie most likely wanted to join the Quidditch team. Leaning into her wife's embrace, Hermione provided a small smile as a sign of assurance that she was okay. Once the couple returned to their corners, Hermione threw an amused grin in Fleur's direction. "You got me into a little bit of trouble today, miss." She taunted lightly, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, miss?" Fleur jested, smirking. "And how did I manage to do that when I haven't seen you since this morning?" She wondered curiously, taking a seat on their sofa and curling her legs underneath her. Grasping all of her hair in one hand, Hermione moved her locks from one side of her head to the other, revealing the now less dark love bite underneath her ear. Fleur's mouth fell open in a small 'o,' surprised. "Was that me?" She asked, as if the answer would've been anybody different.
Hermione rolled her eyes at the question, scoffing. "No, it was Harry. Of course it was you." She shook her head, throwing herself down beside her wife. "And all of the first years noticed and I'm sure Noémie was mortified to have been associated with me…" She grumbled, causing Fleur to lift her wife's face gently. Looking into the light, beautiful eyes made Hermione's day one hundred times better. She found everything she'd ever been looking for in them. Fleur leaned in and lightly pressed her lips against Hermione's, reassuring her that everything was okay.
"Noémie will live, I promise." Fleur giggled, bumping her nose against Hermione's playfully. "We will just be more careful next time. I'm sorry I embarrassed you in front of your students. I suppose I got a little excited." The French woman shrugged sheepishly. Hermione's eyelids were hooding, her senses were clouded with her wife being in such close proximity of her.
"I like when you're excited." Hermione breathed, her hand running up and down the blonde's thigh sweetly.
"Oui?" The Veela purred, leaning back against the sofa's arm as her wife pressed up against her.
"Oui."