I'd like to thank you all for your reviews! I'm going to try and keep the AU to the present after this, there will still be past moments to catch up on some things, but I'd like to show the development between them at this point as I'm doing with the "book world" (which will become more and more AU with each chapter). Enjoy!
Fleur paused for a moment, taking a drink, the ceramic warm to the touch, heated from the steaming liquid it contained. She savored the taste of the brown liquid, enjoying the burn it brought, transferring it's heat to her, leaving her mouth dry and her body warmed. The glass made a tiny clink as it made contact with the table, breaking the silence.
Her hand rested next to it, the cold stone cooling her skin, her other elbow on the table, her hand tucked a blonde strand behind her ear, accompanying it with a slight duck. Her fingers curled to a fist and she rested her cheek upon them, her normally former posture now relaxed. Hermione's hand reached out, fingers covering Fleur's, guided by an unknown force. Fleur stared off in the distance, her blue eyes unfocused, she began to recount her story- their story- once again.
"And you- she- stayed behind, saying she needed more time, but was confident the boys would be okay."
The morning was a sad one, silence barging in, filling the space, taking all it could. Tension reigned here, dragging its victims, kicking and screaming, pulling at them all. The tapping, clanking of metal spoons upon glass bowls overpowering their breakfast. Ron and Harry already dressed as Death Eaters, their shabby robes dirty, torn, loose threads hanging at the seams. The two of them eyeing their glasses with disgust, filled halfway with a glowing, thick liquid, pale blue, their polyjuice. Once they drank it, their clock would start. The next horcrux was at Gringott's, in the Lestrange vault. Harry would become Bellatrix and Ron would be her guard, a nameless figure, unimportant.
Hermione sat across from them, her scarred arm hidden, resting in her lap, awkwardly she balanced a spoon in her left hand, feeling foreign and alien. Her movements forced, clumsy, belying the amount of concentration it took to attempt this bowl. The sounds of brown puffs and milk dribbling back into the bowl could be heard, followed by an exasperated sigh and the clink of a spoon falling back into the bowl.
The boys looked at the scene, reminiscent of a petulant child not getting their way, Hermione was slouched back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest, before they averted their eyes once more, focusing on their uninteresting meals.
"Why don't you try some toast?" Bill asked, popping a couple of slices of bread into the toaster, not bothering to wait for an answer.
He didn't see Hermione shrug, but Fleur did, having just entered the room, her fingers trailing lightly across the brunette's shoulder blades. The boys shot a questioning glance at each other before Harry spoke, "Looks like it's time," he said, resigned, reaching for his glass.
Ron followed suit, their glasses clinking as they toasted, "Bottoms up," the youngest Weasley stated. They plugged their noses and gagged down the foul liquid. Their bodies began to change, contorting unnaturally until they were no longer themselves.
A high pitched whine of a voice came from Harry, "Guess we'd best be off, wish us luck." His voice lacked the normal confidence, and with that, the two boys apparated away.
"It did not go so well, I am afraid," Fleur continued, the pad of her thumb lightly tracing over Hermione's knuckles as she spoke. "Zey were caught, fleeing before zey made it to ze vault or so I'd heard, I couldn't be sure what 'appened in zat time, zey never came back. Ze next time we saw zem was at ze Battle." Fleur looked down, admiring the pattern of the granite table, her voice distant, somber, her voice cracked as she spoke, the words resisting their release, preferring to stay locked in their unspoken prison.
The Order had apparated to the grounds just outside Hogwarts, having received an urgent call from McGonagal, the castle was being swarmed by Death Eaters. Hermione and Fleur stood at the front, their hands joined, they were ready to lead the attack. Their cloaks dripping, the rain pouring around them, lightning blazing a path through the dark sky, casting eerie shadows around them.
They ran across the bridge, towards the castle, their shoes splashing loudly through puddles, soaking through. Their only concern was that they made it there in time. Adrenaline pumping through their veins, pounding in their ears, they pushed open the heavy wooden doors to the castle, the entrance hall was dimly lit with only a few candles. Shrieks, screams, laughter filled the hallways, incantations yelled out, jets of light tinging the grey stones with shades of red, green, blue as they shot out of wands, coursing towards their targets. The entrance hall was a mad house, chaos reigned here. Fleur and Hermione went their separate ways, a shared look between the two, an understanding, their hands parted and Hermione took off upstairs, running as fast as she could, taking steps in twos and threes.
Fleur had gone the other way, sprinting towards the dungeons, they would regroup later, but for now, they had to save the students. Hermione made her way towards the Gryffindor common room, hoping to find Ginny or Neville, they'd be able to fill her in on what happened. At least, she hoped they would. Screams from up ahead, followed by a crazed cackle of a laugh, a jet of green light raced by. Bellatrix.
She froze in her spot, her arm hurting, the scars she'd left still not fully healed. Her wand at her side, a group of students ran past her, retreating in fear. Time seemed to slow around her, her mind becoming clear, she raised her wand, determination painted across her face, her arm outstretched, "Stupefy!" she yelled, the danger in her voice evident, a burst of light shot forth, Bellatrix turned, just in time to see the spell hit, sending her stumbling backwards, stunned. Hermione made her way towards the crazed witch, anger in her eyes.
She looked down at the body laying at her feet, the world around them having melted away, screams fading to silence. She kneeled down, delicately taking the wand from Bellatrix's hand, a dark look on her face. She twirled the bent piece of wood in her fingers absentmindedly, "You know, someone like you, really shouldn't have magic, such a shame, the pain you've caused others. Maybe," her gaze turned towards her previous captor, "it's time you experience it for yourself." Bellatrix looked up at her, eyes wide, fear evident for the first time, she couldn't fight what was going to happen.
Her mind filled with dark memories, countless times that she'd experienced the unforgivable curses, she refused to cast one herself, but the woman in front of her deserved to die, she didn't deserve life, she had proven that time and time again, leaving her mark on Hermione, "Sectumsempra," she cast, barely above a whisper, leaving the witch to bleed, she turned and left.
The noise surrounding her had died down, the hallways nearby vacant, she looked around, searching for anyone. Seeing nobody, she snapped Bellatrix's wand in half, dropping its pieces at her feet, she walked back down the stairs. The fight had migrated outside, to the castle grounds. She rejoined the action, rushing to Fleur's side. "What'd I miss?" She yelled over the din, casting spells as she went, offering Fleur a lopsided grin, she secretly enjoyed it, the test of her skills, proving her knowledge outside of written exams.
The Order was rushing forward, pushing the Death Eaters further back, they were retreating, the fight looked as though it may be over soon. Harry and Ron had yet to be seen by any of the members, the rain had yet to subside. Fleur and Hermione fought, side by side, pushing forwards, forcing the stragglers to retreat, until...
A crack sounded, a flash of lightning, the air tensed and filled with a loud laughter, curses were called out, barely heard over the pounding of the rain. The retreating figures stopped, pushing forward, a new fierceness in their movements. Now resolute in their actions, they pushed forwards, taking the Order by surprise.
Another flash of lightning, breaking across the sky, illuminating a figure, standing perched atop the stone wall surrounding the courtyard. Two bony hands, one barely clutching a wand, reached up, pulling back the hood, revealing sickly pale skin, stretched across bones, two red eyes, glowing angrily, the snakelike dark lord himself stood there. His laugh heard above the commotion of the battle raging below. Next to him, to his right, stood another cloaked figure, hood up, his head bowed.
Voldemort spoke, his raspy voice filling the courtyard. "Bring me Harry Potter!" He spoke, his wand raised, still held limply in his bony hand. The fighting amongst them had stopped, everyone looking about, trying to find Harry. The rain still beat down on them. What seemed like an eternity passed, until finally, a murmur passed through the crowd, figures shuffled to the side, and Harry stepped forward. His shoulders high, a proud look on his face, resigned for the moment, "Alright, you've got what you want, now let's finish this." He spoke bravely, confidence in his voice, he issued the challenge.
A strange laugh filled the silence, deep, a hollow baritone, "My boy, your confidence is misplaced, this is your last chance, join me or be prepared to meet your maker." The last part was a hiss, belying the threat in his words.
"Never!" Harry yelled, raising his wand in preparation to cast a spell.
"Very well then, have it your way." He spoke to the figure next to him, "Prove your loyalty." A simple command, his true desire hidden within, the challenge laid down. The figure jumped from his position, landing on the grey cobblestone of the courtyard, water splashing around him. He raised his wand, its dark wood stained darker with the rain, jets of light shot out from the wands, almost at the same time, the dueled, twisting and turning around each other, casting and blocking, the damage around them mounting up, everything around them stopped. Finally, the hooded figure saw his chance, a small one, Harry was caught off guard, the killing curse coming flying at him, a jet of green light, he couldn't stop it.
It hit him squarely in his chest, one last gasp, he fell forward, collapsing to his knees, his wand slipped from his fingers, and then, he hit the ground, lifelessly, a splash, his glasses cracked, eyes staring vacantly.
The figure finally pulled his hood back, kneeling in front of the body, his orange hair standing out, making his identity unmistakable. He picked up Harry's wand, turning the wood in his hand, head still bowed, he handed it off to the dark lord.
The onlookers stood in shock, unable to believe what they had just witnessed, Harry Potter was murdered by his own best friend. A cackle, a sound that grated on her nerves, a sound that she hated, "Join me, it is not yet too late, your savior has fallen. Join me and you may yet survive."
Hermione stood there in shock, unable to move, her mind unable to process what had just passed, Fleur grabbed her, pulling her inside, they were retreating, but she couldn't get her legs to cooperate. She stumbled, tripping over her soaking shoes, tears dripping down her face, mixing with the rainwater that had chilled her to the bone.
A soft voice spoke, "Come, ma belle, zis is not yet over." Hermione let herself be led away, Fleur apparating them away, to a safe place. The surviving members of the Order would have to regroup later, a new location would have to be found, Grimmauld Place was no longer secret.
"That's strange," Hermione sported a frown, the information passing through her mind, she paused, a thoughtful looked crossing her face, her eyebrows furrowed. "We defeated him at that battle. Ron didn't betray us, and we'd managed to escape Gringott's with the cup. It seems to really diverge when I made the decision to stay with you."
"I mean, there were probably smaller changes even before that, but, I'd wager, that's where things went wrong. Obviously, we never got together in my world, I started dating Ron shortly after the Battle actually."
"'Ow did zings 'appen in your world?" Fleur asked with barely veiled curiosity.
"Well, for starters, you married Bill," she paused, stifling a laugh at the ridiculous face Fleur made, accompanied by a gagging sound.
"Excuse-moi, but did you just say I married Bill?" The blonde looked almost insulted, as though she couldn't fathom such an idea.
Hermione nodded, "Yeah, you married him, we were all there, at the Burrow, at least, until the Death Eaters crashed it."
"But 'ow? 'E is an attractive man, do not get me wrong, but 'e is... mmm, not my type, too hard, and lacking in curves, and 'e is most definitely not female."
"I can't answer that, never bothered to ask, you always seemed happy together, you've got three kids after all. Anyways," she cleared her throat, removing her hand from Fleur's remembering she shouldn't be here, she flattened down her shirt, a nervous gesture. "From there, we ran, and found the locket the next day, and sometime after that, there was a fight and Ron left, but he came back, saved Harry's life, and destroyed that. I was still captured and held hostage at Malfoy Manor," she spoke monotonously, as though checking off boxes on a list, she'd begun to count off on her fingers.
"We all left Shell Cottage together, except I was Bellatrix and Harry hid under his cloak, we were successful, and we went to Hogwart's to try and find the diadem, and that was his last day. The war ended after that. Ron didn't abandon us after that."
"Wait, ze locket- zat must be it, Ron still wore it when zey left, we did not know 'ow to destroy it."
A chime sounded, a clock in another room, its low melody filling the house causing Fleur to jump at the sound. "Shit," the unrefined word slipped from her delicate lips, causing a smile to break out upon Hermione's face. "I am sorry, 'Ermione, but we 'ave to leave soon," she grabbed the glasses of now cold tea from the table, nimble fingers hooked around the handles, "We 'ave a family dinner tonight at my parent's," she continued, noting the confused expression the brunette sported.
She sat, frozen in her chair, unsure if she could pretend, should she pretend? She hadn't seen Fleur's mother since the wedding, and she was rather intimidating then. She was barely aware of the Frenchwoman leading (read: dragging) her back to their room, telling her how it would be alright, to just follow her lead, they could get through this without any issues.
Before she knew it, they were apparating away to the Delacour Manor, Fleur's arm wrapped snugly around her waist. She subconsciously leaned into Fleur's side, a blonde boy running towards them, Hermione didn't recognize him.
Fleur leaned in, placing a soft kiss atop Hermione's head, whispering "Zat is Leo, your nephew," as she did so. A small nod from the brunette, as the boy latched on, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, "Aunty 'Mione!" he shouted, "You're here!"
She smiled, taken aback by such an outpouring of affection from the small boy, she crouched down to his level, hoping she could pull this off. "Of course I'm here! I couldn't stay away from my favorite nephew," she said, excitement evident in her voice.
Hermione shot a smile back at Fleur as the he pulled her eagerly away, "C'mon, I wants to show you my new toy!" Fleur couldn't help but laugh, a light and airy chuckle, her hands in her pockets as she watched her (not) wife get drug off, not knowing her nephew wouldn't let her go now.
He was Gabrielle's only child, he'd just turned 4 and seemed to have a never ending supply of energy. Fleur walked over towards the patio, joining the rest of her family, taking a seat next to her little sister.
"Where's 'Ermione?"
"She 'as been taken 'ostage by Leo," Fleur simply stated, sharing a laugh with the others, "I will go rescue 'er later."
"Now, now Fleur, zat is not ze way to treat your mate," her mother teased, taking a sip of her wine, a dark red, the glass hiding her smile.
"I zink she enjoys it, she 'as always wished we could 'ave children," Fleur responded, wistfully, a far away look in her eyes, thinking about what could have been, what was so close to having been.
"It is not yet too late," her father added, "you could always stay 'ere and raise a family like your sister."
"Hmm," Fleur knew that would never happen, her mate wouldn't allow it, she didn't like to leave unfinished business. She looked over, twisting in her chair, to watch Hermione playing with Leo by the pool, a small beach created by magic, they were building a sandcastle, toy dinosaurs laid at their feet.
Watching the pair, she began to study the differences, her mate had not looked this happy or carefree in some time, she was stressed, carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, the burden of guilt almost too much, it had taken a toll on the younger witch.
Fleur felt drawn to the woman in front of her, reminiscent of a time before, when they still had hope, when nothing felt impossible, their stolen moments on the beach carrying them onward. She made her way to join the pair, kneeling in the sand with them, she imagined herself doing this with her own child someday.
So lost in thought was she, that she didn't notice her sister sneaking up behind her, nor did she notice Hermione secretly conspiring with her, at least, not until it was two late. Strong arms wrapped around her torso and another set around her legs as she was drug towards the pool and dunked in unceremoniously. She had struggled to break free of there grasp, but had failed, her consolation prize being that she'd managed to knock Hermione off balance, and grabbing for her, had pulled her in as well.
The younger witch had gasped as the cold water made contact with her body, and flipping her sopping locks back, she splashed Fleur, a wave of water coming towards her angrily, as the blonde woman laughed at her, splashing her back. Their fight was interrupted by a cannon ball as Leo jumped in to join them.
Gabrielle stood at the edge of the pool, laughing at them, now the only one who was dry, the two women in the pool shooting a glance at each other before returning their attention to the troublemaker. A silent spell, wandless magic, from Hermione, and maybe a little help from Fleur and they drug her in to the pool, her protests going unheeded as the three witches proceeded to try and splash each other, Leo rushing to aid his mother in fighting off her attackers.
Their fight was interrupted by the clearing of a throat, a severe looking woman stood over them, her pale blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun, four towels appeared in her hands, "It is time for dinner," she spoke in a serious tone, before her lips cracked into a smile. "Dry off and come eat, zat is, if you can manage to act like adults for a moment."
The Delacours all answered, "Yes, grandmere," their heads hung low, having been reprimanded by the matriarch of the family. They climbed out of the pool, each taking a towel and the elderly woman turned and left before the group broke out into laughter once again.
Towels wrapped around their shoulders like capes, the four youngest members of the family made their way back towards the manor, Fleur gravitating towards Hermione, her hand reaching out, fingers intertwining with the other witch's. She shot her a shy smile. Hermione's nerves melted away, she began to think that things may not be so bad after all. She returned the smile, a light squeeze of their hands, it felt natural.
The clan gathered around a long rectangular table, their matriarch at the head of the table. A feast was laid out before them, many of the dishes unrecognizable to Hermione. She nervously took a small portion of each, unable to identify most, she believed them to be traditional Veela items. Fleur noticed her poking at most of them, sliding the items around on her plate, she had hoped it would go unnoticed as she did not want to seem rude to her hosts.
Fleur leaned in, her breath hot on her ear, "Try ze chicken, ze one to your left," she whispered, placing a tender kiss to her cheek. The intimate gesture ignored by the rest of the family, used to tender moments between mates. Hermione smiled, a silent thank you passing between them. She cut into the chicken, still unsure of what to expect.
Gabrielle sat on her other side, her attention focused on Leo, assisting him in cutting his dinner into smaller bites. Hermione suddenly longed for the chance to do that for her own daughter someday, unsure if she would ever have the opportunity, she watched them with tender eyes.
She was pulled from her thoughts when a voice spoke, Fleur's grandmother, "It looks as zough someone wants to experience mozerhood." Her accent was thick, but her voice was knowing, it startled Hermione. She turned back to her plate, cutting through the chicken with renewed vigor.
Fleur answered for her, "We 'ave always wanted babies, but it is too dangerous." Hermione took a bite of chicken, blushing, she nodded in agreement, unsure how to answer.
"Nonsense! It is perfectly safe 'ere, wiz ze clan. You do not 'ave to be alone," her grandmother chided, this time her voice sounded more like a scold than she had earlier.
"Grandmaman, zis is not ze time nor is it ze place to 'ave such discussions," Fleur responded, holding her ground, unwilling to have such talks at the dinner table.
"But it is never ze time according to you."
"Because it is a matter to be discussed between 'Ermione and I, not anyone else." She reached out taking her mate's hand, needing the support it provided, and Hermione was happy to oblige, unable to resist smiling at the Frenchwoman who so willingly defended her.
Dinner had passed, relatively smoothly, the conversation staying light, easy after they had moved on from the discussion of babies, Hermione had begun to let her guard down, aided by the wine, she wasn't sure how much she'd consumed to be honest, the glass had kept refilling itself automatically, and it had been some time since she last drank, barely out of her pregnancy with Rose.
The gathering had been because of Leo's birthday a couple days prior. They'd celebrated heartily, alcohol flowing freely amongst the adults. Hermione, though, had wondered (but dared not ask), where his father was as he did not seem to be present.
The more she drank, the more she found herself moving closer to the blonde, needing to feel some contact, the new, welcomed familiarity of the other woman providing comfort to her inhibited senses. Hermione mentally reprimanded herself, seeking the comfort of another, and a woman no less, not even a day after waking up in bed next to Ron, her husband. What would happen when she returned home? Fleur wasn't hers anyways, but that hadn't stopped her.
She'd noticed the woman next to her was practically glowing, a strange beauty radiating from Fleur, it had to be a dream, or a trick of the mind, she'd never felt this drawn to the woman before. But now, now it was as though she couldn't take her eyes off her, drinking in her beauty, her elegance, she hadn't realized she was staring. The desire to kiss her growing stronger, climbing, reaching and desperate, pushing her closer. Her hand resting lightly on the blonde's slim waist, finding comfort on her hip. Gravity was pulling her closer, she'd felt rather than seen, rather than acknowledged, that the distance between them was shrinking.
The moment was interrupted by a giggle, childlike teasing, Leo chanted "I caught you, I caught you!" A small finger outstretched, pointing towards them. Hermione turned red, bright like a tomato, jumping away, needing to put space between them, her eyes cast towards the ground. She missed the glare Fleur shot at Leo.
They'd returned home after dinner, it was getting late by that time, the sun setting in the distance golden streaks dancing across the sky, Fleur's arm wrapped firmly around her waist. Touches between the pair turning more and more sensual, lingering, light, an unspoken need between them.
The blonde looked at her, one eyebrow raised, questioningly, she did not speak though. Hermione looked away, a blush tinting her already reddish cheeks an even darker shade. She'd had too much to drink, that was it, it was all because of the alcohol. Fleur shook her head, releasing the brunette from her grasp.
"I will be just down the 'all," she spoke, her voice soft, hiding the pain in her words. She walked towards the guest room, a room that had largely been empty, the bed unused. Fleur needed to put space between them, she feared if she did not do so, she would not be able to control herself soon. The younger woman didn't know the power she held, the effect she had on the quarter Veela. She did not turn back around, did not see the hurt shining in Hermione's eyes, hurt that she herself would deny the existence of.
The brunette shuffled her way towards her bedroom, large and unfamiliar, a bed that was not hers, full of memories she'd never have. She shut the door behind her, looking at the large object, imposing in its size, dominating the space. Reminders of just how alone she truly was here, she changed for bed before slowly pulling back the covers, lifting them up, she slid in, goosebumps pricking at her skin, she shivered.
Hermione tossed and turned that night, unable to get comfortable, her surroundings too unfamiliar, too unsafe for her, the room was too quiet, she'd adjusted long ago to the boisterous snoring of Ron, the static of the baby monitor she kept next to her bed, the scratchy wool blankets, heavy and suffocating in their own way.
With a sigh, she gave up trying to get some sleep, at least not there, she tossed back the covers, sliding out of bed, her feet touching cold wood, she jumped in shock before committing to her actions, her mind still swimming, still cloudy with the haze of too much alcohol. Her feet carried her without thought, down the hall, to a closed door, she paused at it, her head leaning against the wood, hand on the door knob, she braced herself, resigning herself to her actions once again, she was unsure if she should knock, would Fleur be mad if she didn't? What if it woke her up?
She took a deep breath, holding it, she pushed the door open, slipping inside, the blonde didn't seem to stir. Blonde hair splayed out across the pillows, half covered, she still somehow managed to look like an angel. Her arms wrapped around the other woman, pulling her close as Hermione slipped into bed next to her. Despite the unfamiliar position she found herself in, Hermione fell into a deep sleep soon after, her hand resting on top of the older woman's, around her waist.
Dreams of babies filling her mind, of having a family with the other woman, happy and carefree, raising their children in another country, far away from the problems they currently faced. Going to the beach with a horde of miniature Fleur's, going on vacation, seeing the world, all things she had wanted to do, but had feared she would never achieve.
Ron had never been one to enjoy travelling, much more content to fall into a routine, enjoying the safety of the familiar. He was caring and attentive, but not much of a risk taker, preferring to play it safe, happy with the mundane.
Images of the smiling blonde filled her dreams, and tucked herself closer, tighter into the sleeping blonde's side. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad here after all, certainly they would be different.