Happy August everyone! I can't believe the summer is almost over, and its almost time to go back to school. I had hoped I would update this more often this summer, but it didn't really go as I had planned. I'm also just amazed at how many reviews this story has gotten! You all have been so supportive and it makes me happy that everyone is enjoying Unheard Music. :)
In any event, here is Chapter 11. As always my french is awful, so if any native speakers happen to read this and have corrections, I would love to hear from you. Thanks! I hope you enjoy!
As always thanks to my beta!
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit from this story.
Chapter 11
Sunlight streamed through the window and onto one sleepy Veela's bed Christmas morning. It hit her face, and her hair glimmered in the light making a halo around her head. Her forehead wrinkled slightly and she turned in her sleep, murmuring quietly.
The silence was broken with a shriek as a large figure jumped onto the sleeping girl's bed, and chaos ensued. Blankets and pillows were thrown everywhere, limbs all over the place, and when the scene finally calmed down, a small blonde haired girl had successful woken up Fleur.
Fleur groaned and threw a hand over her face to shield her eyes from the sun. "Gabby, qu'est-ce que tu fait? Quelle heure est-il?" (1)
"Il est deja onze heures! (2) Wake up! We have presents!" Gabrielle giggled and bounced up and down on the bed. She sprung off of the bed after a few seconds and practically ran out of the room, her call of "Hurry up!" following her out.
Fleur groaned, but got up. She put a robe on over her pajamas and threw her hair up in a lazy bun. She groaned and put a hand to her head, which was pounding slightly and walked into the living room, where her family sat waiting. "Good morning…"
"Good morning ma cherie, est-ce que tu veux un café?" (3) Apolline Delacour asked her daughter.
She was a striking woman, regal and beautiful like her two daughters, but her features were harder, and that gave her the appearance of being unfriendly when really the opposite was the case. She was one of the friendliest, and warmest women Fleur had ever encountered, even though she knew she was a little biased considering the woman was her mother. Her father sat sprawled out on the couch, his feet propped up on one of the armrests. He was a thin man; his blond hair was graying, giving it a sort of shining appearance, like the sun was constantly hitting it. His face was beginning to show signs of aging but he would still be considered very handsome.
Fleur turned to her mother "Oui maman, merci." and she followed the older woman into the kitchen. "Maybe this coffee will help my headache…"she mumbled.
"Ca va ma cherie?" (4) asked Apolline.
"Yes, I think so…" was the answer "I'm not really feeling very well this morning." Even as she spoke she felt worse by the second. 'What is happening?' she thought to herself. Her mother was now regarding her with a very intent and concerned look in her eyes.
"Fleur…" she started but cut off abruptly with a sharp scream as her daughter collapsed on the countertop.
1 a.m. Christmas Morning: the Burrow
Hermione turned the last page of the book Dumbledore had given her, and closed the worn cover softly.
Upon returning to her room after dinner, she had tried to go to bed. She closed her eyes but she just could not fall asleep. She knew Ginny was asleep from her breathing, but Hermione could not help but think about the small brown book under her bed. Why had Dumbledore given her that book? She had a sneaking suspicion, but she did not want to believe it. Or perhaps she did? She squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn't. But she had to find out, and the only way to know for sure was to read the book. Quietly she retrieved it from under her bed, lit the end of her wand and started turning the pages.
When she was finished she book, she was too tired to process the information she had just absorbed. And the next morning she was woken up quite early by the twins who for some reason insisted upon waking up early even though they were no longer children. Her quiet state went unnoticed by the raucous Weasley family as they opened presents and as they ate breakfast. It was only a little before 11 that she finally got a moment to herself to think.
Alone in her room, Hermione stood at the window, looking out at the snow covered fields that sprawled along the country side. Somewhere far across those hills a Veela was still in bed, sound asleep. She flushed at the thought of that woman. She knew why Dumbledore had given her that book. She was not considered one of the smartest witches in her year for nothing after all.
The reason for her unexplainable attraction to the charming Charms professor was now explained. According to that book, she was forever and irreversibly connected to Fleur. And there was nothing she could do about it.
She gripped the window sill, her knuckles white. The lack of control in the situation took her breath away. The future that she thought was wide open had suddenly vanished. Sure, her career was still up to her, but the one thing that most people spend their entire lives searching for, a life partner, a mate, had been already decided for her. Why her? The tears of defeat that had been held back for hours began to well up at the corners of her eyes, only to be wiped away angrily.
She couldn't accept this. It wasn't that she disliked the Veela woman; it was that she disliked the situation. As much as her heart was secretly pulling, wishing wanting, she pushed it away. The pain of it all was ignored. Staring blankly out of the window, Hermione made up her mind to avoid her destined made upon her return to Hogwarts.
The Delacour Household, Shortly after Fleur's Collapse
Fleur came to complete consciousness lying on the couch; her parents hovering worriedly above her. Apolline gasped when she saw her daughter was awake and knelt clasping Fleur's clammy hands in her own, murmuring her thanks. Fleur sat up shakily. "Que c'est-il passé?" (5)
"I don't know my sweet, but your grand-mère is on her way right now. I'm sure she will know what is wrong." The older woman comforted her daughter. At that very moment the family matriarch made her appearance. She was a very imposing woman: regal and upright, with a commanding air that was detectable from a great distance away.
"Elle est ou?" she demanded. Upon catching a glimpse of her granddaughter she moved to her side, easily taking control of the situation. "Hm…" she breathed out. "Yes….I've seen this before. Look at me Fleur." Fleur brought her eyes to look into her Grandmother's bright blue eyes. They were extraordinarily clear and Fleur knew that much knowledge was contained within them. "I'm afraid that the road ahead of you is going to be bumpy for a while, ma cherie." She smoothed back the hair from the young woman's forehead. "Not impossible, merely difficult.
"You are perfectly fine now, a little shaky perhaps but perfectly capable of going about as normal. You know that you share an invisible, yet strong bond with your chosen mate, yes?" Fleur nodded. "Sometimes, strong emotions are passed along that tie, the good resulting in a sudden surge of joy, the bad often in sickness. I think I am correct in saying that that is what has just occurred. While I do not know the exact nature of the situation, judging from the severity of this instance, something important has happened in feelings of your mate." The older woman sighed. Turning to her daughter she said, "I will contact Albus Dumbledore about this, for I am sure he has answers. She is fine for the time being, just keep an eye on her until her return to that school. I will see you all soon." and with that she swept out the door.
Here are the french translations: 1. "Gabby, what are you doing? What time is it?" 2. "Its already 11 o clock!" 3. "do you want a coffee?" 4. "Are you ok?" 5. "What happened?"
Thanks for reading! Leave a review if you have the time, they are always appreciated!
