Harry Potter and all related characters and places are owned by JK Rowling - I just make them dance for my own amusement.
You wanted more Tonks, so I've given you more Tonks! Interesting fact: this is the first chapter - including Entwined - to directly reference the characters looking exactly as they do in the movies. Because Clemence Poesy exists. Yus.
~xxx~
Later that evening, Hermione was to be found sat upon her bed, idly flicking through a recent copy of The Daily Prophet. As was the norm, there wasn't a single mention of anything that could even possibly be linked to Lord Voldemort. She couldn't comprehend just why the Ministry refused to acknowledge the facts, even if it would assuredly spread panic. She had often debated a very similar issue when deciding how to tell her parents about Fleur; lie to them and pretend everything was normal, or admit the truth, knowing the response could not be favourable. She sighed and folded the paper up, tossing it onto the small table beside the bed. The room itself looked as though it had once been very welcoming, but despite Mrs Weasley's cleaning efforts, it still had an air of decay about it. Fleur had wrinkled her nose as soon as they had entered, and seemed to have been pulling a face ever since.
"I've given up on reading it," Ginny said, nodding at the paper. The youngest Weasley was sat upon her own bed on the other side of the room, already changed and looking rather tired. Hermione herself was waiting for Fleur to return from the bathroom before taking her turn to get ready for bed.
"Hm?" the brunette looked up, distracted for a moment. "Oh, yes it is a bit pointless now, isn't it?"
"Dad says some people in the Ministry believe Harry and Dumbledore," Ginny continued. "But they're too scared of being fired to say anything."
"I don't blame them," Hermione replied. "It seems the Ministry will do anything to avoid a panic, even if it puts people in danger. They should be preparing for what could happen, not pretending it isn't going to."
"Did you tell your parents?" the redhead asked. "About You-Know-Who, I mean."
"Oh…sort of," the older witch said, frowning a little. "Actually it was your dad that brought it up… I had a feeling you may invite me to the Burrow – sooner than usual, I mean. I was…ah…" She forced a smile. "…planning on telling them I was studying, actually."
Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Well, at least it would have been something believable," she said, smirking. "I did get the impression you weren't expecting to see us quite as soon as you did."
"To be honest, I had been hoping to spend a bit of time with my parents and Fleur," Hermione admitted. "I got a whole two weeks with hers, and yet she barely had twenty-four hours with mine. We probably should have come back sooner…"
"But they liked her, right?" Ginny asked. "Well, I'm guessing they did, otherwise you would have said."
"Yes, they did," the brunette replied, smiling a little more genuinely now. "They were really quite taken with her, in fact."
"She's Fleur Delacour," the younger witch said, as if that explained it all. "Of course they were."
"Not everyone likes her," Hermione reminded her. "You were there all year – you saw what some people said about her."
"Well yeah, but didn't you say she only rubbed people the wrong way when all those other Beauxbatons girls were around?" the redhead pointed out. "What was it you called it? A 'defence mechanism'?"
"Something like that," Hermione said with a nod. "Actually, she mentioned something about that while we were in France…" She shifted slightly, not quite meeting the other girl's eyes. "It was a little scary, to be honest. It really seemed to be bothering her that so many people didn't know what she was really like." She shook her head, recalling the memory vividly. "She said she's going to try and act more like herself from now on."
"Well that's hardly going to change anything from my perspective, is it?" Ginny asked, grinning again. "I only ever see her when she's with you. And when she is, something tells me she couldn't care less what people think of her."
"You think so?" the brunette asked.
"Oh come on, Hermione," the redhead said seriously. "You know you act differently around her, but the same goes for Fleur as well. You may have spent the whole of last year with her, but I heard what those other Beauxbatons were saying about her; they said she was acting like a completely different person."
"How did you understand what they were saying?" Hermione asked, a frown creasing her brow. Ginny just waved a hand.
"They were talking to a bunch of Ravenclaw girls they'd made friends with," she answered dismissively. "Don't change the subject. What matters is you need to remember that whatever effect Fleur has on you, you have on her as well; she acts just as differently around you."
"I don't behave that differently when she's around," Hermione stated defiantly. But then hesitated. "Do I?"
"Okay, it's not that bad," Ginny replied, chuckling. "But all the same…"
There was a comfortable silence for a few minutes, punctuated only by the sound of a small clock on the wall. Ginny had climbed under the covers of her own bed, but remained sitting up. Hermione just remained still, absent-mindedly playing with a loose thread from the duvet. The brunette was about to speak, when the other girl did so first.
"Did Dumbledore tell you not to tell Harry anything in your letters?" Ginny asked after a while. Hermione looked up and nodded.
"Yes, though I still can't quite understand why," she replied. "It seems completely unfair."
"He was here a few weeks ago," the redhead continued. "Told Ron and me in person. We've been here nearly all Summer, you see."
"That's odd," Hermione said. "He only told me not to once I was at Fleur's. He sent a letter."
"Well…" Ginny began, clearly attempting to hide a smile. "What were you doing before then?"
"Well nothing, of course," the brunette replied. "So what would have stopped me telling Harry-"
"You don't understand," the younger witch interrupted, shaking her head and maintaining that slightly worrying grin. "Where was your mind during that time, hm? You're right, you could have sent Harry a letter in those two weeks, but you didn't, did you?"
"I…" Hermione paused, and sighed in defeat. "No, I didn't." She looked back up at Ginny. "Are you honestly saying he knew I would be so upset about being away from Fleur that I wouldn't think to write before I saw her again?"
Ginny shrugged. "He's Dumbledore," she said simply, as if that answered everything. "What do you expect?" Hermione shook her head, rather irritated and embarrassed that her behaviour had been so easy to predict. What with that and Ginny's little speech about how she behaved differently around Fleur, she was beginning to grow rather tired of people being able to read her so easily. There was another moment's silence, before her friend spoke again. "How was France?" she asked. Her voice was quiet, almost as if the question was a deeply important one; not to be taken lightly.
"It was perfect," she replied, smiling widely, her previous annoyance already forgotten. Part of her mind told her this was exactly the sort of over the top romanticism Ginny had been referring to, but she ignored it. "For those two weeks, I didn't have a care in the world…"
"Well I think you deserved that," the redhead said. "You're always worrying about something." Hermione chuckled, and nodded. "You and Fleur…" Ginny continued, her voice coming close to a whisper now. "You didn't…you know…?"
"What?" the bushy-haired witch asked, confused. However, it only took a moment to realise what her friend was referring to. "No! No, of course we didn't." She shook her head to emphasise the point. "Ginny, I'm only a year older than you; I'm not ready for that."
"Fair enough," Ginny said with another shrug. "I just thought that with Fleur being older and all that…"
"I won't lie, I think we came close a few times," Hermione said before she could think. She instantly regretted it, but felt an undeniable prickle of satisfaction at the look on the younger witch's face. "…obviously, that stays between you and me."
"Won't tell a soul," the redhead promised, holding her hands up, a smile slowly forming on her face. "…'close', hm?"
"Oh shut up," Hermione snapped. "Fleur can be very forward sometimes, you know that."
"Well, you'll be sixteen in September," Ginny reminded her. "You'll be legal." Her eyes seemed to widen with glee as she said that last word.
"And you care so much, why…?" the brunette asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I just think it's cool that out of all of us, Hermione Granger is the first one to really go anywhere with anyone," Ginny replied, snickering again. "You have to admit, you didn't expect this any more than we did."
"I…suppose not," Hermione said, allowing a smile of her own. "I know you're tired of hearing it, but sometimes I still can't quite believe it."
"Well, I still want to know all the details," the redhead said enthusiastically. Hermione frowned. "Oh come on, we always used to gossip about stuff."
"Not about what Fleur and I do when we are alone, we didn't," the older witch reminded her. "Why so curious? If I didn't know better, I'd say your interest extends beyond normal friendly curiosity."
"What?" Ginny's eyebrows shot up. "No no no, I'm pretty sure I still like boys." She shrugged and smiled. "It's just…well…you've always been a bit of a role model for me, you know?"
"Well, I suppose I'll tell you everything I can," Hermione said. "Within reason."
"Tell 'er what?" a voice asked from the doorway. Both looked up to see Fleur standing in the doorway, looking rather amused. Hermione's first thought was just how long had Fleur been standing there. But that was quickly chased away by how her girlfriend looked; her hair was loose again, looking rather unkempt; clearly she hadn't bothered brushing it after her shower. She was wearing a long nightdress, over which was a pale silky dressing gown. It was amazing how the part-Veela managed to make even nightwear look like a ball gown.
"Nothing," Ginny said quickly. "Just girl talk."
"I am a girl, non?" Fleur asked, cocking her head to the side curiously. "Or I was ze last time I checked."
"It's nothing, honestly," the redhead insisted. She slid out of bed and stepped past the taller girl. "I'm just going to go to the loo before you sort yourself out, Hermione."
Fleur watched with bemusement as the youngest Weasley closed the door behind her. "What was zat all about?"
"Just Ginny being Ginny," Hermione replied, shaking her head and smiling. "She wants me to tell her all the 'juicy details' of our relationship."
"Strange girl," Fleur remarked, glancing at the door again, before stepping closer to the brunette.
"You look amazing, by the way," Hermione said, feeling her cheeks burning slightly.
"I do?" the blonde asked, looking herself up and down. "What is amazing about zis?"
"You make anything look good," the younger witch said. "Besides, I've never seen you wearing that before. You always wore the other one…" She was positive her face was going red now, remembering the rather more revealing nightie her girlfriend had worn while they were in France.
"Well, it is far colder 'ere," Fleur said. She quirked an eyebrow, and smirked. "Besides, I would raz'er only you see me wearing such a zing, hm? If you must know, it is in zere-" She gestured at her trunk, now positioned beside the bed. "-should I 'ave reason to wear it again."
They both smiled, before Fleur finally sat beside the brunette and pulled her closer. Hermione rested her head against her girlfriend's shoulder, sliding an arm around the French witch's waist. Fleur smelt positively delicious; the scent of her shampoo very apparent. She wished they could have showered together, as they had done at Fleur's house, but Hermione had to admit – being surrounded by her friends again had made her consciously reign in just how intimate the two of them were. Ginny thought she had seen Hermione at her most sappy, and the brunette was rather keen to keep it that way.
"I'm sorry this isn't exactly the sort of place we'd imagined spending our last weeks together," Hermione said after a moment. Fleur sighed and shook her head.
"Non, it is not," she said. "But – and you are going to 'ate me for saying zis – as long as you are 'ere, I do not mind."
"Same," the brunette replied with a warm smile, not caring that she had predicted the blonde's words exactly. "I keep trying to tell myself that we still have more than a month until the start of term, but…"
"I know," Fleur replied. Her tone had become rather more serious than when she had entered the room. "But we knew it would come, and at least we no longer 'ave to worry about losing contact wiz each oz'er."
Hermione gave a small chuckle. "You worried about that too?" she asked, and Fleur nodded, returning her smile.
"A little," the blonde said. "While I was taking my exams, I 'ad zese 'orrible mental images of you running off wiz someone else before I even 'ad ze chance to speak wiz you again." She smiled again, and shook her head. "But now I 'ave you for good, hm?"
"Do you even really need to ask me that?" Hermione replied, quickly leaning in and gently kissing her girlfriend. Of course, at that moment Ginny reappeared. Closing the door behind her, she shook her head and smirked, watching as the other girls pulled away in surprise; even Fleur's cheeks were slightly red.
"I would tell you to get a room," the redhead began. "But seeing as I have to share it with you, could you at least wait until I've gone to sleep before you get started?"
"Very funny," Hermione muttered. Fleur just smiled and got back to her feet, stretching her arms high above her head.
"Well zen, I believe someone still 'as to get changed," she said. Hermione nodded and dutifully headed for the door, wondering if Ginny would ask Fleur just as many awkward questions.
~xxx~
The next few days went by rather too swiftly for Hermione's liking. Mrs Weasley was determined to clean the house from top to bottom; in theory it made sense, after all if this was going to be used by the Order for the foreseeable future, it deserved to look a little better than it currently did. But as is usually the case, this was easier said than done. Fleur too was unable to escape cleaning duty; despite having been accepted into the Order, she naturally wanted to stay with Hermione until she left for Hogwarts, and of course, that meant she had to roll her sleeves up as well. It was a rather bizarre sight – Fleur Delacour, part-Veela and Beauxbatons Champion, with her hair tied up and a large duster in her hand, her face covered in muck and grime. Needless to say, she was not very happy.
And before too much longer, this led to inevitable tension between the blonde and Mrs Weasley. Neither was openly hostile, but there were a few vague comments from both sides. Hermione had to admit that she had expected it; the two of them were from completely different worlds, and seemed to bring out the worst in each other. Mrs Weasley was at her most waspish when the blonde was around for too long, and Fleur seemed to become incredibly guarded and snobbish. Hermione just stayed out of it – she agreed with Mrs Weasley, but would never side against her own girlfriend – especially when the matter was so trivial. In the end, though, the Weasley matriarch seemed to have won – arguing that if Fleur was 'too good' to clean the house, she should go help the other Order members. Wanting nothing more than to remain with Hermione, the blonde begrudgingly agreed and the two seemed to have formed an unspoken truce.
Two days after they had arrived, Hermione had sent Harry a birthday card; she had been working on it all morning, preferring to make one rather than just buying it. Fleur had helped out too; illustrating the front with a rather elegant drawing of a pair of crossed broomsticks – a Nimbus 2000 and a Firebolt – as well as signing her own birthday wishes inside. Hermione still felt incredibly guilty that they were unable to tell Harry anything, but another brief visit from Dumbledore the previous night had dispelled any notions she may have had of slipping some information into the message. She was well aware of the Order's increased patrolling of London; and scattered encounters with Death Eaters. But as it was, Harry had to remain in the dark, for whatever reason. She had sent the card off along with Ron's when Hedwig arrived with Harry's latest letter; Hermione had turned her back for a moment while Fleur was affixing the envelopes, when the blonde let out a shriek; Hermione didn't say anything as Fleur rubbed her sore fingers a few minutes later, but she was sure Hedwig had been instructed to bite.
Despite the rather depressing situation regarding Harry, they had found a surprisingly good friend in Nymphadora Tonks, who had taken to sitting with them in the room they shared during the evenings. The first time had been completely by accident; Hermione, Fleur, Ron and Ginny had been sat discussing the implications of Lord Voldemort's return to power, when a loud crashing sound was heard from outside. Not for the first time, Tonks had managed to knock something over – this time, a filthy vase that had been sat empty in the corridor. They had all poked their heads out to see what was happening, and were met with the sight of the accident-prone witch on all fours attempting to spell the vase back into one piece. Sometimes it was hard to believe she was a fully qualified Auror. Despite this, they had invited her in, and quickly asked her more about herself.
"Left Hogwarts just before you lot started," she had said. "Same year as Charlie."
"I think he might have mentioned you," Ron replied, but never elaborated on just why.
"Yeah, I remember him," Tonks said, smirking. "Your mum said he's still got that dragon fetish."
"Well…uh…I dunno if that's the right word for it…" Ron mumbled. "Makes it sound a bit dodgy…"
"What 'ouse were you in?" Fleur asked. The blonde was sat directly behind Hermione, absent-mindedly playing with her girlfriend's hair.
"Oh, Hufflepuff," Tonks replied. "Suppose I wasn't clever, brave or ambitious enough for the others."
"You must be raz'er brave to become an Auror and join ze Order," Fleur pointed out, and Tonks chuckled.
"Or incredibly stupid," she said. "Either way, I do miss those days sometimes. Sneaking around after hours; playing pranks on Grace McCormick…"
"Sounds like you were a predecessor of Fred and George," Hermione said, shaking her head disapprovingly.
"Oh I was always getting into trouble," Tonks said, laughing again. "I was getting detentions for mucking about right up until I finished Seventh Year. Caused even more havoc once I was able to change how I look properly."
"I've never met any other Metamorphmagi," Hermione continued. "They're meant to be extremely rare, aren't they?"
"Never met another one myself," the purple-haired witch replied with a shrug. "Made passing some of my Auror training very easy, though."
"So you can change into anyz'ing?" Fleur asked curiously, still fiddling with Hermione's tangled mane of hair.
"Well, within reason," Tonks explained. "I couldn't turn into an horse or something. But anything human, and I could give it a go. It's much easier to change into something generic, rather than trying to exactly copy how someone else looks."
"Do the pig nose again," Ginny suggested, grinning expectantly. Tonks laughed and nodded. She concentrated for a moment, before her own nose started to change; widening and moving up her face, until moments later, she had a perfect pig snout. She gave a loud 'oink.'
"I still can't get used to that," Ron muttered as the Auror's nose returned to normal.
"One time, I forgot I still had it and went outside," Tonks said. "Had to tell a bunch of Muggles it was a Halloween mask!"
"So could you try to turn into one of us?" Ginny asked, clearly still amazed by the older witch's abilities. Hermione had to wonder why; the Weasleys were surely used to them by now, but she supposed it was rather fascinating.
"Uh...well I could try," Tonks replied, looking a little nervous. "Been a while since I've tried to completely change everything, but why not?" She looked around the group. "So, who shall I do?"
"Fleur," the youngest Weasley said quickly, smirking at Hermione's frown. "Should be easier – she's closer to your age."
"Righto," Tonks said, shifting slightly to get a better look at the blonde, who was looking rather baffled.
"Are you sure zis is a good idea?" she asked, but Tonks just chuckled.
"Don't worry, I'm hardly going to steal it," she said. "Now then…" She regarded the French witch carefully for a minute or so, her eyes moving slowly across her face. Hermione could tell that Fleur was more than a little uncomfortable, but she herself was rather curious to see just how well this would work. Another few moments passed, before slowly, the Auror's face began to change again. Her skin lightened slightly, her eyebrows thinned and her jaw moved up somewhat. At the same time, her hair began to grow longer, becoming lighter as it did so; even her hairline visibly moved. It was a far more elegant transition than the rather grotesque process of using Polyjuice Potion.
Before much longer, her transformation was complete, and the group saw another Fleur Delacour sitting among them. Tonks smiled. "Well?" she asked, putting on a rather bad French accent. "'Ow do I look?"
"Bloody amazing," Ron breathed, his voice rather hoarse. He seemed to have forgotten that the real Fleur was sat nearby as well.
"I'd call that a success," Ginny said, nodding in approval.
"Are you two blind?" Hermione asked, looking at the siblings with disdain. "She looks nothing like her!"
"…what?" Ron asked, turning to the brunette. "Hermione, she's the spitting image."
"No she's not," Hermione replied flatly. She leant forwards slightly, taking in Tonks's new features. "Starting with the basics, her jaw isn't wide enough, her nose is too long, her eyes are a bit too bright; in fact her eyes are a little too big as well. The roots of her hair are too dark, her nostrils are too wide, her brow is a tad too deep. Her ears are the wrong shape, her eyelashes are too long, the moles on her cheek are in the wrong place; actually one of them is missing completely." She paused, and tilted her head slightly. "Oh, and her philtrum is too deep." The others regarded the brunette with amazement, not one of them quite able to speak. She glanced around, taking in their shocked faces. "What?" she said, nonplussed.
"…what the bloody hell is a philtrum?" Ron asked, finally finding his voice. "And how in the name of Merlin's arse were you able to notice all of that?"
"It's this little bit here," Hermione explained, tapping the cleft between her top lip and nose. "As for how I saw it all, well how can you not? Look at them!" She gestured between Fleur and Tonks. "You must be able to see all that."
"Uhhh…no, we can't," Ginny said, an eyebrow firmly raised. "I mean, I can see where the mole's missing, but aside from that they look identical." She broke into a smile and started to laugh. "Good grief, Hermione, you've got it bad!"
"But…" Hermione began, unable to stop her cheeks from reddening. "…it's so obvious…"
"Per'aps…" Fleur began, encircling the brunette's waist with her arms and gently pulling her back slightly, so she was half resting on the blonde's lap. "…you are more perceptive of ze details because you are so familiar with me, hm?"
"That's a polite way of putting it," Ginny said, sniggering. Hermione just sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, feeling utterly embarrassed. She could feel Fleur's hair tickling her nose as the blonde continued to look down at her, more than likely smirking.
"Well, aside from those niggles, it's alright?" Tonks asked, her appearance still that of the part-Veela.
"I would say so," Fleur replied, looking up and smiling widely. "Just make sure you do not try to fool 'Ermione."
"With her scary knowledge?" Tonks asked, reaching over for a drink. "Not a chance."
"Fleur is left handed," Hermione blurted out before she could stop herself. Tonks paused, looking at the glass held in her right hand, and sighed.
"I'm going to stick to animal noses."
~xxx~
The following evening, they were in much the same position as they had been the previous afternoon; Hermione was resting lazily in Fleur's lap, reading, while the blonde just played with her hair. Hermione had to wonder just how the part-Veela was able to do it for so long without getting bored, but she could already picture the overly romantic response, and so remained silent. Ginny and Tonks had gone downstairs, discussing broomsticks – Tonks had nearly invited Ron to join them, but Ginny had trodden on the hapless Auror's foot rather hard to silence her; her brothers still had no idea their sister had secretly learnt to fly several years previous and continued to sneak out to do so.
The bizarrely warm weather was also starting to take it's toll; being restricted to this musty old house with no windows open was far from ideal, and the humidity was awful. Hermione's hair was rapidly turning into a frizzy mess, as was Fleur's – though Hermione had to admit she actually preferred her girlfriend with slightly untamed hair. By now, the house had started to cool down as night had fallen. Hermione let out a quiet yawn and closed her book, shifting slightly and looking up into those startlingly blue eyes watching her from above.
"Is it bad I'm already tired?" she mused. Fleur smiled and shook her head.
"It is ze 'eat," she said. "Why zey cannot just open a window, I cannot understand."
"Maybe it has something to do with the enchantments on the house?" Hermione suggested. "But I agree, it's not exactly ideal."
"I suppose you are looking forward to getting back to 'Ogwarts," Fleur said, sliding her arms around the younger witch's waist. "Get away from zis weaz'er."
"I don't know…" the brunette admitted. "I mean, yes of course I'm looking forward to going back – I always do, but…well, need I say more?"
"Mmmm," Fleur murmured. "Ah well, it cannot be 'elped." She forced a smile. "Best to not dwell on it, oui?"
Before Hermione could respond, there was a knock on the door. She sat up, and had to resist smiling; Fleur seemed adamant that her arms remain around her. The door opened, and to Hermione's surprise, Lupin stepped in. They had seen very little of the ex-professor during their time at Grimmauld Place; for the most part he kept to himself, unless he was talking to Sirius. He looked particularly weary, and the brunette made a mental note to check when the next full moon was – or indeed if there had been one recently.
"I need you two to come downstairs," he said. "There's some news you need to hear."
At those words, Hermione's smile faded. She imagined Fleur's had too; she could feel the blonde's grip on her instinctively tighten. Lupin disappeared from view, leaving the door open behind him. Fleur and Hermione exchanged concerned looks for a moment, before getting to their feet and leaving the room. They followed the sound of Lupin's footsteps down the staircase, and made their way to the hallway, where Ron, Ginny, Fred, George and Mrs Weasley were standing. Lupin nodded at them before stepping into the kitchen, closing the door behind him.
"Okay, they're here," Ron said impatiently, watching as the two girls approached. "Now can you tell us what's going on?"
"This may come as a bit of a shock," Mrs Weasley began. Hermione only now noticed that the woman's face was a good deal paler than usual. "We've received word that earlier this evening, Harry was attacked by a pair of Dementors."
There were gasps all round. Ginny clapped her hands to her mouth, while everyone else exchanged worried looks. Quickly, Hermione voiced what everyone must have been thinking. "Is he alright?"
"He's fine," Mrs Weasley said. It seemed just saying the words came as a relief to her. "He's back at his aunt and uncle's, and the Order is already making arrangements to move him here."
"Why doesn't someone just apparate him here right now?" Ron asked. "That's got to be the easiest way."
"Mad-Eye won't allow any one person to take him", Mrs Weasley explained. "He's worried about imposters now."
"Then why doesn't he just do it himself?" Ginny asked, but her mother just shook her head irritably.
"Because Nymphadora decided it would be fun to point out that Mad-Eye could also be an imposter," she said. "I think they are considering escorting him here on broomsticks."
"Yeah, because that won't draw any attention…" Ginny muttered.
"There's more," Mrs Weasley continued. "He used a Patronus to ward them off; the Ministry has therefore seen fit to expel him from Hogwarts for performing underage magic."
"What?" Hermione barked, her mouth hanging open. "They can't do that!"
"Unfortunately, they already have," Mrs Weasley said, but Hermione wasn't having any of it.
"No, I mean it," the brunette went on. "They literally can't – I'm sure of it. There are rules for this sort of thing; it's completely illegal!"
"But Harry isn't exactly flavour of the month at the Ministry, is he?" Fred pointed out. "They'd probably arrest him for sneezing these days."
"Wouldn't be surprised if they sent the Dementors after him," added George. "After he insisted You-Know-Who was back right in front of Fudge."
"Oh don't be ridiculous!" Mrs Weasley snapped. "The Ministry doesn't send Dementors after people."
Before the twins could argue back, the front door banged open, and a rather exhausted looking redheaded man entered. He breathlessly closed the door behind him, before jogging down the narrow hallway to the bottom of the stairs where everyone was stood.
"I've just heard," Bill Weasley wheezed, doubled over and taking long deep breaths. "Is he safe? Is he alright?"
"He's fine," Mrs Weasley said. "Have you just come from the bank?"
"Was checking something down in one of the vaults," Bill replied, nodding. "There's an anti-apparition charm down there – had to get back to the main building as fast as I could."
As she watched the man regain his breath, Hermione was distinctly aware of Fleur's chest pressing into her back, and a delicate hand ghosting around her hip. She remembered the last time she had seen Fleur and Bill in the same room; when they had first met. Back then, the part-Veela had been rather put off by the man's staring. Though hearing what he had said reminded her of something – he worked for Gringotts too. She was positive he had been working in the field, in Egypt, but clearly that was no longer the case. Part of her scolded her for thinking so, but she couldn't help but feel a prickle of distrust towards the man, at least where her girlfriend was concerned.
"Alright, Fleur?" he asked, looking up at her. Hermione was shocked for a moment; how dare he address her in such a familiar way when she was standing right there to see it.
"Oui," the blonde replied curtly.
"Now then," Mrs Weasley continued, clearly not noticing the awkward atmosphere between the two girls and her eldest son. "Remember, if Harry sends you any messages between now and when he gets here – you are not to tell him anything."
"But Mum," Ron began, aghast. "He's been attacked by a pair of ruddy Dementors! We can't just ignore him!"
"Dumbledore's orders," his mother snapped. "And that's the end of it." She took a deep breath, and regained her composure. "Now, dinner will be at the usual time." She forced a smile. "Come along, Bill, dear. You look like you could use something right now."
As she and Bill headed into the kitchen, the group exchanged baffled looks with each other. "That's it?" Ginny asked, throwing her hands up. "Harry gets attacked and we're expected to just sit around and act as though everything's normal?"
"Suppose there's not much we can do…" Ron mused. "Mum's right; Harry's safe, and the Order are planning to bring him here. What more can we do?"
"Safe?" Ginny repeated hotly. "Safe? How is he bloody safe when a pair of Dementors got to him, hm? You just said that yourself!"
"They're not going to let us out," Hermione added, nodding at the front foor. "I'm as angry as you are, but there's very little we can do from here."
"I can see why you wanted to join the Order," Ginny said, nodding at Fleur. "The rest of us are useless." She stalked off up the stairs, her feet sending up small puffs of dust as she went.
"Well…uh…" Ron began awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. "Suppose your room's out of bounds, then?"
"I'd say so," Hermione replied, giving a forced smile. "We'll see you at dinner."
~xxx~
A while later, Fleur and Hermione were alone in a small room they had found. Despite appearing as a small terraced house outside, Grimmauld Place felt more like a mansion inside; there seemed to be countless rooms throughout it, and this one had certainly not been touched by Mrs Weasley's cleaning regime. They were sat opposite each other on a pair of old armchairs, which had thankfully been protected by dust covers, leaving the seats themselves clean. Fleur looked rather distracted, and Hermione had an odd feeling that it wasn't just because of what had happened to Harry.
"What's wrong?" she asked, breaking the blonde from her thoughts.
"Hm? Oh, noz'ing really…" Fleur replied. "It is zat man; Bill Weasley."
"I thought so," Hermione said, nodding. "Clearly he still likes you."
"Oh, you 'ave no idea," the part-Veela said, shaking her head. "I probably should 'ave told you – I met 'im once before you arrived in France. He came from Gringotts to sort out some paperwork regarding my job zere."
"Why didn't you say anything?" Hermione asked, feeling a little hurt that her girlfriend had neglected to mention it.
"Well, firstly it was not zat important," Fleur began. "And secondly, for ze obvious reason – you would not take kindly to finding out."
"And finding out now is supposed to make it better?" the brunette snapped. "It's obvious he likes you."
"Oui, of course 'e does," the older witch said with a nod. "Zat much is obvious." She sighed, and leant back in the chair. "'E is oddly persistent. 'E knows I am wiz you, but 'e still seems to be trying to…oh, I do not know…" She shook her head slowly.
"I thought you would be used to men fawning over you," Hermione pointed out, sounding a little harsher than she had intended. "There were loads of them at Hogwarts."
"But it all stopped after ze Yule Ball, non?" Fleur said, her voice rather neutral. Worried that she had upset the blonde, Hermione smiled widely.
"Actually I think that was more to do with the fact that half the school saw you break Ron's nose because he upset me," she said, and finally the part-Veela smiled in return.
"Zat is true," she replied with a nod. She leant forwards again, resting her elbows on her knees. "In any case, if 'e tries anyz'ing on once I start work, you will be ze first to know." Her smile faded slightly, but her voice only became softer. "You need not worry about 'im, mon amour," she said earnestly. "I would sooner die zan leave you."
"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," Hermione replied. She had meant it as a joke, but no sooner had she said it than she realised how morbid it sounded given the current situation. Fleur seemed to notice her girlfriend's discomfort, and got to her feet, extending a hand to her.
"Come, it is nearly time for dinner, oui?"
As Hermione walked with Fleur, she found herself desiring nothing more than to stand as close as possible to the blonde. Their brief encounter with Bill, no matter how innocent, had rattled her. And as they ate that night, she found that Fleur must have realised this, for the blonde's right hand spent the entire meal on Hermione's leg, squeezing gently. Reassuringly.
