Author's Note: Next up we'll have Hermione's point of view, but this chapter was a needed filler in order to set up what's to come. Thank you so much to those leaving such positive feedback. It is much appreciated and really just about makes my whole day. Enjoy!
Gabrielle stretched her long limbs across Fleur's lap. Lounging on her sister as Fleur swabbed the nail polish against her big toe. Complaining in French of her squirming legs as she repositioned them with a stern but playful grimace. The youngest sipping at a cocktail pursed at her lips as she sighed, giving in to her sister's quiet demands as she steadied her limbs and cleared her throat. "You're smudging," she critiqued.
Fleur ignored her. Patting the edges of the toe with a dampened cotton ball as she sighed. "Your wiggling is cause enough for it, petit," the eldest muttered, and Gabrielle with her perfected smirk merely twiddled her thumbs in retort.
Manicures, plucked eyebrows and Gabrielle's insistence on her sister's infamous crème brûlée was for the most part, the extent of their evening together. Gossiping, of course, on the Dubois sisters and their rather immaculate taste in men (meaning as far from immaculate as possible), as well as mentions of their mother's cappuccinos and the English's odd insistence of tea and crumpets. Fleur laughing at Gabrielle's outlandish impersonations; her thick accent making a mess of an attempt at the British tongue as she flung her hands about with exaggeration. Fleur noticing that with each purposeful fling, the gold band that rest around her finger seemed to show proudly with each swing as she smiled.
Gabrielle was to be wed, and she couldn't have been more happier for her, though their mother was a different matter. Of course she would be, Fleur thought, though she daren't ruin her sister's fun as she placed the brush back into the contents of maroon toned polish; reaching for Gabrielle's hand in inspection of the band as she smiled.
"So seldom it is found; a man with such exceptional taste," she remarked. "Might I suggest you hold onto him, Gabi," Fleur added, and giggling at the comment Gabrielle smiled.
"I think I might just do that," she answered. Spinning the gold band with a childish flutter in her eyes, and Fleur needn't be her sister to sense the love that shone there. It was plain to see for miles that Gabrielle was as delighted as anyone at the mere thought of her fiancé as she sighed.
Returning her attention to Gabi's toes, Fleur sought for the polish grinning. "You have that air about you," said the blond. "In fact, I have not seen you this pleased with yourself since you convinced maman that desert before dinner was a necessity in Britain."
Gabrielle laughed. Her eyes holding in them that sparkle, such an enveloping sense of passion that Fleur turned her head; feeling intrusive upon an inner most thought as Gabrielle gleamed. "He's such a gentleman, Fleur," she proclaimed. "He has taken to bringing me flowers, and not just on a particular day, but whenever it suits him," she added. "Viktor believes that a woman should be catered to and loved in ways that exceed a mere holiday, but simply because."
Fleur smiled. "'Simply because' sounds quite lovely, Gabi," she remarked, and not because she had to. Not because her sister was grinning from ear to ear, or that she was obligated. Fleur hadn't known him long but she had taken immediately to Viktor Krum despite their mother's distaste on the matter. "He is a good man," Fleur said, and with a nod Gabrielle answered with a hum.
"I spoke to him of you recently," Gabi began. Suddenly increasingly interested in her nails as she picked at them with a breath. "His friend's sister, Sophie, apparently has her eyes set on you." She seemed to accentuate her words as her smile crept cautiously back along her lips. Fleur content on scrutinizing her sister's feet as her hand brushed another maroon coating against her pinky.
"Is that so?" Fleur questioned, and with a feverish nod Gabrielle further her musings; all the more enthusiastic as she went on to explain Sophie and her trimmed figure. On to her beautiful soft toned complexion, and a pair of glistening green irises.
"She's fluent in three different languages, and has a PhD in neuroscience," she continued. Fleur smudged the last toe, a muttering of French eliciting from her parted mouth as Gabrielle paused. "She's going to be in town tomorrow evening."
"Oh?" Fleur question. Stiffening her shoulders, she had expected it to come sooner or later as she sighed. "And am I right to assume that her place in town is conveniently close to my apartment?" Fleur questioned.
Gabi blushed. Pausing in search of the words as she glanced careful at her eldest sister. "If you would give her a chance—"
"Non, and stop fidgeting, Gabi," she interrupted. Her hands readjusting her sister's squirming legs once more as she glared.
"Perhaps I will stop fidgeting when you stop wallowing," she steeled, and with a narrowing glance Fleur challenged her sister's own rivaled glare before swabbing the cotton ball across the smudge of maroon. "Sophie is a nice girl, Fleur," and with another brief pause, Gabi frowned. "Tara was nice as well, as well as Oliver—" Fleur plopped the brush into its container.
"Oui, Gabi, and I appreciate your intentions, and of Viktor's but I am not interested in being your call girl," she replied. Patting Gabrielle's thigh she sighed. "I should best be going soon," Fleur muttered.
Gabrielle pointed with softened eyes. "Not until the storm has passed, Fleur, s'il vous plait," she pleaded, her tone holding in it such a sadness and unbeknownst to Fleur as she shifted from beneath Gabi's legs, she was still as wrapped around her sister's finger as she had been all those years ago as she sighed.
"You cannot expect me to have more than a mere outing with this Sophie," she exclaimed. Gabrielle's eyes beaming at Fleur's defeatist breath. Her hands coming to purse at her mouth in effort to hide her grin as she stifled her excitement.
"Of course not," she replied. Hoping to sound as morose and indifferent to the thought as Fleur appeared to be as she took her hand. "One outing, as friends if you wish. I merely want you to have a good time, Fleur, that is all I wish for you."
Gabrielle's definition of a good time had not once been deemed similar to Fleur's, though reluctant to upset her sister, and pleased to see that her bubbling smile had returned, Fleur relinquished.
"Your wishes often get me into trouble, Gabi," Fleur mused, and with a twinkling in her eyes Gabrielle Delacour beamed.
"It is what I hope for."
