A/N: Hello all, finally wrote a new chapter. Fair warning, this chapter gets a little darkfic in places. There is mention of a suicide in it so scroll past that if you don't want to read that. Cheers.
Hermione succeeded in convincing Fleur to have lunch with her no fewer than three times in the next fortnight. While the Frenchwoman remained relatively aloof, their conversation was by now flowing easily. Hermione was satisfied to note that at the very least, Fleur appeared comfortable around her.
As she walked down to Ginny's flat, she opted not to mention her new lunchtime companion. The fiery redhead was still annoyed that Hermione had attempted to befriend Fleur at the Malfoy & Granger company party.
"Mum and dad will be so happy that you're joining us for dinner tonight, 'Mione," Ginny chirped, thankfully steering the conversation away from quidditch for the first time all evening.
"Well, with work being as busy as it is, I feel like I barely see you and the boys as it is, let alone your parents!" Hermione replied with a smile. They entered Ginny's flat and immediately went to the fireplace and grabbed a handful of floo powder each.
"Oh, and by the way… Bill is still staying with them," Ginny announced strangely. Hermione noted that the younger girl avoided eye contact and paled as she mentioned this. Hermione simply nodded and followed Ginny's lead in tossing the powder in the fireplace and stepping in.
With a lurch Hermione landed on the well worn rug of the Weasley living room. She had scarcely gathered her footing when she was swept into a bone crushing hug by Molly Weasley.
"Hermione, dear!" she squealed, "I haven't seen you in so long! Are you eating enough? Are you working too much? How are you?"
Hermione struggled to catch her breath as Molly hit her with question after question. Thankfully, Harry and Ron arrived moments later and Molly was soon distracted in her eagerness to greet Harry. Ginny flashed an apologetic smile at Hermione.
As usual, Molly had prepared an absolute feast that had the dining table practically groaning under the weight. The Golden Trio and Ginny settled into seats around the table as Molly called up the stairs for the others to come down.
"And where is George?" Molly asked with a frown, "Its not on for him to miss a family dinner."
"D'no," Ron said through a mouthful of a breadroll he had already snagged off the table, "Said 'e 'ad a date but 'e was bloody weird abou' it."
Hermione's interest in George's love-life quickly faded as his older brother entered the room. Hermione barely managed to suppress a gasp.
Bill Weasley had always been the handsome one in the family; athletic, well-muscled and blessed with handsome looks and charm. Even the scars from Greyback had somehow added to his handsomeness. However, this description did not match the Bill Weasley dragging himself into the dining room this evening. Bill's hair was long and unkempt, the usual vivid red a dirty reddish brown. Bill himself was just as scruffy, he had grown a long beard and had incredibly dark marks around his eyes as if he had not slept in years. His once toned body was gaunt and painfully thin, his clothes hung off him. Even Bill's eyes had lost their liveliness, they stared at Hermione blankly before focussing on a spot on the table for the rest of the meal.
As the meal finished, Hermione made an excuse to go to the bathroom before tailing Bill as he slunk back to his room. She followed him as he slipped into his room and shoved her shoe in the doorway to stop him from closing the door. He looked up, his dull eyes widening with a slight surprise.
"Yeah?" he said tiredly. Hermione pushed the door open and leaned in the doorway.
"What is going on with you and Fleur?"
At the mention of Fleur's name, Bill paled even further, although Hermione had not thought it was possible.
"Its all my fault," he said in the same tone of exhaustion, turning his back to Hermione.
"What is? What happened? Why are you like this?" Hermione questioned further. Bill turned back to Hermione, looking broken and miserable.
"I'm a killer, Hermione," he said in a soft hoarse voice. Hermione raised an eyebrow, confused.
"So many of us had to kill someone at some point in the war, Bill, it doesn't make us killers."
Bill shook his head slowly, a tear running down his face. Before Hermione could push the issue, a plump hand landed on her shoulder and wrenched her from the doorway.
"This isn't the bathroom, Hermione," Molly said sternly, casting a worried look at her son.
"I-I know, Mrs Weasley," Hermione said awkwardly, "I just wanted to talk to Bill…"
Mrs Weasley frowned, "Bill needs his rest. I suggest you head back downstairs now, the others are about to leave."
Molly marched Hermione back down the stairs where an oblivious Harry, Ginny and Ron were straightening their clothes out and preparing to Floo. Her friends smiled at her and Hermione smiled back, self conscious of Molly's eyes boring into the back of her head.
"Well, shall we head off?" Hermione said brightly.
The next morning Hermione woke to a racket at her door. She blearily looked at the clock beside her bed: 5.00am.
Wondering who on earth would wake her at such an ungodly hour, she pulled on a dressing gown and stumbled to her door, opening it to see a distressed Harry.
"Harry? What's wrong? What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
"'Mione, Ron and Gin need us," Harry said, running a hand through his messy black hair. He was pale and Hermione noticed a slight tremble to his hand.
"What's going on, Harry?" Hermione asked, fear lacing her voice.
"Its Bill…" Harry said gravely, "He's dead."
The funeral was a dark affair. Molly gave Hermione a wide berth, which didn't help her nagging feelings that her interrogation of Bill had contributed to his death.
The usually fiery Weasleys were all downcast and devoid of energy, save the frequent bouts of sobbing. It bore an uncomfortable similarity to the funeral of Fred years earlier. After the funeral there was a light meal, where Hermione found herself spending most of her time trying to keep Ron and Ginny from drinking too much and tried her best to support them. As Ron and Ginny moved to speak with their mother, Hermione was surprised to see Draco emerge from the crowd and approach her.
"I wouldn't have thought you would make it on the guest list for a Weasley event," Hermione observed, sipping at her red wine.
"Never mind that," Draco said dismissively, "How are you holding up? I know you are close with the family."
Hermione explained what had transpired the night when she had interrogated Bill and her guilt associated with it. She kept her voice low lest the quick-tempered Ron or Ginny heard. Draco cocked his head to one side.
"It is strange…" Draco commented, before George approached them with two drinks in hand.
"Could do with a drink and a chat if you have the time, Malfoy," George said grimly. Malfoy looked at Hermione who nodded, before accepting a drink from George and disappearing back into the crowd.
The next few months, Hermione buried her guilt into her work. She returned to working extended hours, something which was made easy by the absence of her usual friends.
Ginny and Ron were unsurprisingly unsociable in the aftermath of Bill's shock death, and Harry was spending most of his time trying to be a supportive friend to them both. Malfoy, like Hermione, was spending most of his time at work, but was also noticeably absent in his downtime.
Hermione didn't think much of it, her mind was focussed on a more alarming absence: Fleur.
While she had only gone to lunch a handful of times with the Frenchwoman, she was still surprised when Fleur fell off the grid entirely following Bill's death. She had not been at the funeral, and Hermione had not seen her since their last lunch before Bill's death.
Hermione scanned the pages of the Prophet daily hoping for a glimpse of Fleur, but the blonde had also disappeared from the social pages.
But she had a plan, Malfoy & Granger were set to hold another function in the coming month. She walked down to Malfoy's office and knocked on the door. As predicted, Malfoy was sitting at his desk, poring over a guest list.
"Oh, hi Granger," Malfoy said, looking up briefly before returning to his scrawling.
"Who's making the guest list for this one, then?" Hermione said, sitting down in the chair facing him.
"Oh, don't stress, I put down Potter and the Weasleys already," Draco said with a smirk.
"What about Fleur?" Hermione asked, trying to sound casual. Draco sighed and put down his quill.
"I assumed you would have heard…" he said, rubbing his temples, "Delacour is out of the social circuit."
"Well, I noticed she wasn't appearing in the social pages anymore, but that doesn't mean we can't invite her," Hermione reasoned. Draco sighed again.
"No, she's out out," he replied firmly. Hermione arched an eyebrow with confusion.
"She went off the rails," Malfoy explained, "Culminating in a rather entertaining speech at a gala honouring Dolores Umbridge for her public service. I believe she also threw a drink at the guest of honor."
Hermione tried to suppress a smirk at that, "Well, if anything, all the more reason to invite her to things!"
"Mn, she's not on the social circuit anymore, Granger," Malfoy pressed again, "I heard she had a falling out with her family over her behaviour and they've cut her off. No-one has seen her since."
Hermione conceded, but her mind kept whirring. As she walked back into her own office, she pulled open a drawer and retrieved her address book, thumbing through to the page where she had recorded Fleur's details. It had been months since she had seen her, true, but she was certain Fleur would talk to her.
For once Hermione had left work at 5.30pm on the dot, pulling up the collar of her coat against the wind as she walked through the chilly London streets. She probably could have apparated, but Muggle ways had a way of keeping her grounded and calm.
She made it to the quiet suburban block of flats in half an hour. The flats looked nice, but nowhere near as luxurious as Hermione had expected for Fleur, coming from the great Delacour family.
She made her way into the apartment complex, finding Fleur's room easily and knocking on the door. There was no answer, so Hermione knocked again. The door opened to reveal a Fleur, surprise inked across her face. She was dressed in an oversized white button-up shirt that went down to her mid-thigh.
"Hermione?" Fleur exclaimed, "What are you doing here?"
"I, uh, I heard you were going through a hard time," Hermione said calmly, patiently waiting for Fleur to invite her in. There was a long pause and Fleur sighed, stepping to one side, allowing Hermione entry.
Hermione looked around the apartment, noting the broken china and glassware by some walls. It was a tidy looking apartment, but messy, as if Fleur had given up looking after her space. Fleur glided effortlessly through the mess and took a seat at a small table, reaching for a bottle of gin and pouring a small tumbler for herself.
"Drink?" she offered. Hermione awkwardly nodded and picked her way through the mess to sit at the table with Fleur. She couldn't help but notice letters littering the table, some stamped with bright red "final notice" stamps.
"So how's things going, Fleur?" Hermione asked in a cheerful tone, hoping to garner a lift in mood from the blonde.
"Great," Fleur replied in a sarcastic tone.
The two women sat in silence for a while, sipping at their gin.
"What happened to you and Bill?" Hermione asked quietly. Fleur shook her head silently, picking up the bottle of gin to top up her glass. Hermione cleared her throat.
"How about we play a game?" Hermione said gesturing at a deck of cards on the table, "I win a hand, I get to ask you a question. You win a hand, you get to ask me a question." Fleur looked at the cards for a moment, an unreadable expression on her face as always.
"Unless you're afraid of losing?" Hermione challenged. Fleur cocked an eyebrow, playfulness returning to her eyes. It was a wizarding pack of cards. Fleur would likely have grown up playing with these, and would be well aware that Hermione was a Muggle-born.
"Fine," Fleur said with a smirk.
"Good, you haven't lost your competitive side," Hermione joked, as Fleur snatched up the cards and began shuffling them.
"Face Off?" Fleur asked, and Hermione nodded. Fleur cut the deck. Face Off was a common game where each player played a single card, the winning card resulting in winning the hand.
Hermione eyed up the hand she had been dealt, pursing her lips. Fleur smiled slightly and placed a card face down on the table between them. Hermione selected one and put it down face down beside it.
The cards magically flipped themselves over. Hermione's was a man holding a fish. Fleur's was a woman holding an axe. The man holding a fish walked out of his frame and slapped the man in Fleur's hand with the fish. Hermione looked away as Fleur's man drew back his axe to strike.
"Merlin, I forgot how violent this game looked," Hermione cringed. Fleur laughed lightly, scooping up the cards triumphantly.
"So," Fleur began, sipping her gin as she thought, "Why did you come to see me tonight?"
Hermione tapped her chin, "I missed you."
Fleur looked uncomfortable for a moment before smiling and arching her eyebrow, "Do I need to bring out the veritaserum? We have not seen each other in months. Why have you sought me out now?"
Hermione sighed, "I think you're spiralling. And after seeing Bill the night before…" Hermione cleared her throat and looked down at the table, "I'm worried about you, Fleur."
Fleur looked pained for a moment before selecting another card and putting it facedown. Hermione selected one and placed it beside her. Fleur won again.
"What did you talk to Bill about?" Fleur asked, keeping her eyes carefully trained on her cards, not looking up once at Hermione.
"I asked him what happened to you and him." Hermione answered. Fleur looked up, a muscle tensing in her jaw. When it became apparent that was all Hermione was going to say, Fleur placed another card facedown on the table. Hermione reciprocated.
This time Hermione won the round.
"Why did Bill say he was a killer?" Hermione asked, and Fleur visibly paled. She kept her ice cold expression and sipped at her gin, feigning nonchalance.
"Because he has killed," Fleur replied simply, looking up to lock eyes with Hermione. It seemed she was not going to answer more than was necessary either.
They both played their next cards. Fleur won.
"How long have you been interested in women?" Fleur asked, a smile playing at her lips. Hermione blushed, her mind returning to their passionate kiss in the library at Malfoy & Granger.
"I… uh…." Hermione's voice cracked. Fleur leaned back, smiling more widely, flipping her sheet of silver-blonde hair over one shoulder. Hermione felt a flutter in her stomach as Fleur beamed at her. But then she realised Fleur was probably trying to derail her line of questioning.
"Since Hogwarts," Hermione answered firmly, "Although I haven't told anyone."
Fleur nodded, her face unreadable again. She played another card. Fleur won again.
"Do you ever think about me late at night?" Fleur purred seductively, leaning forward. Hermione went beet red immediately. Merlin, it was hard to keep a cool head when faced with a Veela aiming to distract. Hermione drained the last of the gin in her tumbler in one large gulp.
"Yes," Hermione said quickly, before tossing a card face down on the table. Fleur placed one down beside it. Hermione won.
Fleur sighed loudly as she sipped at her gin. Hermione shook her head, trying not to get distracted. Fleur stretched in her chair, showing off her athletic body in her loose oxford shirt. Hermione felt herself heating up.
"What are you wearing under that shirt?" Hermione asked, before immediately blushing a deep red for asking such a forward question. She blamed the gin.
Fleur smiled triumphantly, clearly pleased at the change in conversation topic.
"Lingerie," Fleur answered in her intoxicating French accent. Hermione choked.
Fleur smiled widely and refilled Hermione's glass with gin. They played another hand. Hermione won again. This time she set her eyes firmly on the cards on her hand, instead of at Fleur. She was not going to be distracted again.
"Were the people Bill killed innocent?" Hermione asked. Fleur let out a long and shaky breath.
"Oui."
They played another hand. Hermione won again.
"Did… you kill innocent people?"
Fleur paused for a long time, she lifted her glass, her hand shaking. She drained the glass in one big drink before placing it heavily down on the table. She pulled out her wand and held it to her temple.
"Fleur—" Hermione began, alarmed. But Fleur pulled her wand away from her temple, a long silver strand tugging with it. She deposited the memory in her now empty glass and pushed it heavily across the table at Hermione. She nodded towards a Penseive across the room. As Hermione picked up the glass and walked towards the Penseive, Fleur swigged straight from the bottle of gin.
Hermione tipped the memory in the Penseive and dove her head in.
Hermione landed in Shell Cottage. Fleur and Bill were screaming at each other. Fleur was in the kitchen, preparing what looked like Wolfsbane, presumably for Bill's potion.
"Well why did you bloody move here if you're so unhappy?" Bill bellowed at Fleur from the doorway. Fleur let out a scream of frustration and swept everything off the kitchen bench, sending plates and glasses shattering on the floor.
"You are unbearable!" she shouted back at Bill, before pushing past him and out of the room. Bill followed her through the house, continuing to yell at her.
Hermione looked at the shattered things on the kitchen floor, a horrible feeling settling in her stomach as she saw the Wolfsbane lying forgotten on the floor. Hermione moved to follow the arguing couple as they continued to fight.
"I want a divorce!" Fleur shouted at Bill. Bill punched a wall heavily, before storming out of the house entirely, slamming the door deafeningly as he left.
Fleur threw herself into an armchair, dropping her face into her hands to sob.
Some time passed. Hermione was aware that it was night-time. The brightness of the full moon lit the living room where Fleur remained, dozing in the armchair.
A loud howl pierced the air, sending a shiver up Hermione's spine and rousing Fleur from her seat. Fleur's face drained of colour and she grabbed her wand before sprinting out the door. Hermione took chase, following Fleur as she ran out of the cottage and towards the forest.
Another howl pealed out and Hermione struggled to keep up with Fleur in the memory as she ran frantically through the forest. Hermione followed the sight of the white silver-blonde hair streaming ahead of her.
"Stupefy!" Fleur shouted, and a large shadowy figure collapsed to the ground. Fleur bent over, panting hard, her hands resting on her knees, sweat dripping down her forehead. Hermione caught up with her as Fleur straightened up and finally surveyed the clearing.
And Fleur began to scream.
Hermione ripped her head out of the Penseive, panting. She turned to Fleur, who was sitting at the table, tears streaming down her face silently.
"It wasn't your fault," Hermione said hoarsely. Her mind was lit up with the horrific images of the bloodied campers in the clearing.
"I threw his Wolfsbane on the floor," Fleur said, anguish lacing her voice. Hermione crossed the room to kneel beside Fleur's chair.
"It was an accident… A horrible accident," Hermione said soothingly. Fleur shook her head, beginning to cry harder. She swigged her gin some more.
"Helping him bury the bodies the next day was no accident. Hiding it was no accident," Fleur sobbed.
"Fleur," Hermione said, moving to wrap the blonde into an embrace, "You don't have to face this alone."
They stayed like that for a while, Fleur sobbing in to Hermione's neck and Hermione holding her.
"Bill is dead," Fleur sobbed, "I have nothing, nobody…"
Hermione made shushing noises and stroked the Frenchwoman's hair. Eventually Fleur was all cried out and Hermione released her, returning to her own seat at the table.
Fleur looked self conscious, dabbing at her eyes while setting her face to be intentionally neutral again.
"You know, I have been getting sick of sharing a secretary with Draco," Hermione said slowly, "We've been meaning to hire someone in that role for a while… if you want it."
Fleur swallowed heavily. She nodded.