Dinner lasted for what felt like several hours, but in actuality, could not have been more than forty five minutes. Fleur found herself glancing at her watch every thirty seconds or so, desperate to leave the table. Watching Hermione behave with the obvious symptoms of a crush towards someone that wasn't her had left the blonde feeling in a terrible mood. She was shocked at how insecure her jealousy was making her feel this time around. Normally, it left her feeling unreasonably angry, but it wasn't anger she was feeling right then—it was insecurity, and Fleur realized that this was the first time since they began their relationship that she felt insecure over Hermione's actions. It had always been the other way around: Hermione was the one who would constantly grow unsure of herself and of Fleur's feelings for her over something stupid and meaningless the blonde did. Her flirting with Lavender Brown was simply one of several examples.
Fleur wouldn't call Hermione's way of interacting with Gabrielle "flirting" in its actual sense, but wasn't that exactly what the brunette had talked about that morning when she grew angry with her for flirting with Lavender?
"How would you feel if I began to flirt with other people right under your nose?"
Jealous, insecure, and forsaken was the answer, which was exactly the way Hermione must have felt about Lavender. Acknowledging that it was entirely her fault her girlfriend had felt like that made Fleur feel even more terrible. But that still didn't justify the way Hermione was behaving now, and she was bitter that the other girl, as perceptive as she was, could not sense her displeasure. Was this her way of getting back at her for that morning? Watching as Hermione jumped to her feet the moment Mrs. Weasley asked for help cleaning the kitchen, Fleur somehow doubted it, which made her feel even worse. For whatever reason, the other girl had a serious crush on Gabrielle.
"Don't worry about a thing, Hermione," Mrs. Weasley said, waving a hand to decline her help. "You helped me cook; the boys can help me clean up." The twins and Ron looked outraged, but Harry was already climbing lazily out of his seat to help.
"Really, Mrs. Weasley, I don't mind," she said desperately. Her eyes darted towards Fleur, who was unsure if it was her she wanted to avoid or Gabrielle. When Hermione's eyes landed on the older of the blondes, who was blinking up at her and taking a sip of wine, she edged away slightly.
"Fleur, will you come to my room in an hour? I would like to speak with you." Now finished with her glass of wine, Gabrielle stood up and handed the empty goblet to Hermione, who took several hurried steps back as the blonde slid by.
"Yeah, sure. You're taking a shower I'm assuming?" Fleur would not allow herself to be upset with Gabrielle, for she had done nothing to encourage Hermione's crush. Mrs. Weasley had invited her to stay at the Burrow so they could spend time together after all; it would be a pointless waste of time to accuse the older girl of something that wasn't even her fault.
"A bath."
Fleur's nose scrunched up with distaste and she missed Hermione's soft smile. Ginny, on the other hand, had seen it, just like she had seen every single apologetic glance she had thrown at the blonde during dinner, but Fleur had not noticed because her gaze had remained fixed on her plate. The younger girl was nonplussed as to what was going on inside Hermione's head: if she was sorry that she was behaving like a smitten schoolgirl, then why did she keep acting that way? Fleur had been right: Hermione was mental.
"The water remains clean, Fleur, this is the Wizarding world."
"Actually, we've charmed our taps to do that," piped a rather complacent looking Mrs. Weasley, who was standing up to begin cleaning the kitchen.
Rolling her eyes, Gabrielle glided towards Fleur, who was still sitting at the table with Ginny, and bent down to speak softly in her ear. "There is a reason for everything," she riddled.
For a moment, Fleur had no idea what she was talking about, but then the older girl's eyes settled on Hermione, who was piling dishes next to the sink, by hand this time instead of using her wand. Fleur had a feeling it was so she could keep herself occupied until Gabrielle left.
"You'll become a philosopher yet," she muttered irritably. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Gabrielle simply smiled, displaying a perfect row of straight white teeth, and stood up straight, sweeping her eyes across the room. "Listen and learn, little sister. I'll see you in an hour." With that, she swiftly moved to the stairs and was gone a moment later. There were no sounds of footsteps travelling upwards.
"She's just so loveable, isn't she?" Fleur said dryly.
"Entirely," Ginny yawned as she picked up her fork and twirled it in her fingertips, appearing quite bored. "You going to talk to Hermione then?"
Glancing over by the sink, Fleur caught the brunette staring miserably at her, and she felt a painful tug in the middle of her chest. "Yeah," she nodded, "better to get this sorted out now. I actually want to have nice holiday for once."
"Go use my room," Ginny offered. "For privacy, you know?"
"Loads of thanks, Gin." She smiled gratefully at her before catching Hermione's eye once more and jerking her head in the direction of the stairs. "Come on upstairs, Hermione, I need you to unshrink my pajama pants or it'll be my Quidditch figurine sleeping in them tonight."
Nodding nervously, the older girl abandoned the task of drying the plate in her hands and moved to follow Fleur up the stairs. Once they were inside Ginny's room, she closed the door, pulled out her wand, and muttered the consistently useful silencing charm.
"Hermione, what the hell happened down there?" Fleur swiftly began. She stared angrily at the other girl, who looked distressed.
Running a trembling hand through her hair, Hermione moved on shaky legs to sit on Ginny's bed, not trusting herself to stand. "I honestly don't know," she admitted quietly. "It felt like someone else had taken over my body and I just wasn't myself." She looked at Fleur with pleading eyes, desperately hoping the other girl would believe her.
Immediately, Fleur's glare softened and she exhaled an uncertain sigh. It was apparent that Hermione was telling the truth, her eyes screamed with sincerity after all, but the blonde wished her emotions wouldn't cave in so easily and forgive the other girl so quickly.
"You really hurt me, you know." Picking at the waistband of her sweatpants, Fleur wished that she put something with pockets on. She glanced up and saw a crestfallen Hermione. Her heart tugged.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered, staring at the floor and playing with the golden ring, which had found its way to her left ring finger.
"I know." A pause. "You looked at her in a way you've never looked at me before." She decided to be perfectly honest about everything the other girl had done wrong. Maybe then it would never happen again.
"Well I could look at you that way…but do you honestly want me to stare at you with such mindless obsession?" Hermione's eyes twinkled and a playful smile tugged at her lips. "I think it might make me bothersome."
Eyes narrowing, Fleur's hands flew up to her hips. "Did you drink love potion?" she asked seriously.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, Fleur, I drank love potion for the exact purpose of falling in love with Gabrielle," she said sarcastically.
Scooting back so she could lean against the wall, she crossed her arms and stared at the blonde. For the first time since they had entered the room, Hermione noticed that they had not turned on any lights; Fleur's silvery hair was the brightest thing in the room, bathing her face with an almost angelic glow.
"Well, you said mindless obsession."
"That's what it felt like," Hermione responded truthfully.
Fleur sighed. An entire afternoon of playing Quidditch had exhausted her physically; an evening of watching Hermione and Gabrielle had drained her emotionally. Perhaps she would have thought more clearly during dinner if she had had the strength to contemplate the situation from Hermione's point of view at a more accurate standpoint. "Do you have a crush on her? Like for real?" Her girlfriend had made a point: mindless obsession could be okay, could be forgiven, but Fleur would erupt if she saw it grow more serious than that.
"Fleur, I've already told you that I don't."
"When?" Furiously racking through the memories of all the conversations they had had about Gabrielle those past few weeks (which was a surprisingly few amount), Fleur could not recall Hermione ever saying that, though, truthfully, she could not recall Hermione ever saying she had a crush on Gabrielle in the first place.
"This morning!" Smirking, Hermione decided to give the other girl a further refresher. "Remember you were climbing on top of me when you told me I needed to get over her?"
The blonde's brow furrowed as she remembered. "I thought you were denying it," she said simply.
"I thought I was too," Hermione admitted quietly, staring at the younger girl's neck. "But I had the whole afternoon to think about it…"
"Yeah? What'd you come up with?" Fleur asked curiously.
She took a deep breath. "I can't say that I never had a crush on her, because I did." When the blonde clenched her jaw and looked away, Hermione quickly continued. "But only because she looks exactly like you and I was missing you so much at the time. I've got you now though, don't I? So there's not any reason for me to like her. She's beautiful, yes, but she's just not you, and you're the one I'm in love with." She felt her trepidation loosen when Fleur smiled softly, comforted by her words. "I won't lie to you, Fleur, Gabrielle and I did get close over the summer. But that's because you weren't there. She was just trying to help me move on is all it was."
It took tremendous effort but Fleur managed to eject all familiar feelings she felt from hearing yet another side effect caused by her not reading Hermione's letters over the summer. There was nothing she could do about it now. "So you're many conversations…?" she tailed off uncertainly.
Nodding her head firmly, Hermione beckoned the other girl to sit next to her on the bed. Fleur fidgeting in the middle of the room seemed awkward, like she had gone to a formal party but had forgotten to dress up. When the blonde was sitting comfortably beside her, she continued. "They were about you…at first. After a while we started to talk about the things in her life—Bill, the wedding, your mother. You have to understand that Gabrielle really doesn't have anyone here. You stopped returning her letters for a while," Fleur suddenly looked uneasy, "she worked much less than Bill and Mr. Weasley, and Mrs. Weasley loathes her for whatever reason. I've no idea what she did with herself when term started. It was just her and Mrs. Weasley most of the time…" A distant frown appeared on Hermione's face, as though she had just remembered a forgotten question. "Fleur, why did you stop writing her?"
"Didn't really have anything to say, I guess," Fleur said as casually as possible, focusing her eyes across the room and desperately praying Hermione would drop it.
Her eyebrows raised into a skeptical look. "Fleur, you always have something to say."
Scratching her forehead, the blonde struggled to think of something to say, something that would sound believable. "I told you I had a boring summer." When she dared a glance at Hermione, Fleur saw she was giving her an examining look, most likely trying to read her body language and tone to reveal a lie…not that she was lying; her summer had been incredibly dull. She only stopped returning Gabrielle's letters in case her father felt an urge to read her mail again. Fleur could not let herself feel too much guilt however, as she had only ignored her sister's letters to protect herself from another violent attack.
Finding nothing but truth in her girlfriend's eyes, Hermione decided to let it go. However, she could not escape the feeling that there was something Fleur was not telling her. Perhaps she was merely being paranoid. "Do you feel better about the Gabrielle thing now?" she asked.
"You don't have a crush on her?"
"Not anymore. It went away after we started school, when I actually had you to focus on again." She took another deep breath. "I have no idea what happened down there tonight, I…" she trailed off, her brow furrowing so deeply that Fleur was visited with the comical image of the brunette right before their O.W.L. exams. "I…" She could almost hear Hermione's brain whirling, spitting image after image and word after word to the front of her mind. Smiling patiently, Fleur waited for the other girl to share what she was thinking. "Maybe Fred and George slipped love potion in my Pumpkin Juice after all," she said slowly and decisively.
Fleur's eyebrows rose dubiously, but she wouldn't put it passed them to do something like that. "I'll ask them about it tomorrow…but if they say yes, then I'm going to murder them both."
"Please don't, they were probably just doing it for a laugh." A deep frown still marred her beautiful features as she stared vacantly at the royal blue bedspread, thinking hard.
"Yeah, real funny that was."
Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Hermione focused her attention back on the younger girl, who was glaring at the floor, clearly unable to find the humor in the situation. "Fleur, you have to remember that hardly anyone knows about us. I'm sure if Fred and George knew, they would never have done such a thing…assuming it was them who did it of course."
"Yeah, well, who else would it be?" She paused, waiting to see if Hermione would contradict her. "Ginny and Harry both know about us, Ron has his own crush on Gabrielle, and I think it's an anti-love potion that Mrs. Weasley's looking for. And not for you."
"Good point," Hermione conceded, nodding her head.
It was quiet for the next couple of minutes as both girls mulled over their thoughts silently in their heads. Fleur did not know what Hermione was pondering over beside her and decided not to ask. She would tell her if she wanted to. Instead, she scooted closer to the girl until their arms were touching and then laced their fingers together, pleased that they managed to make up without any fighting. The left side of her body tingled from the contact and her lips twitched into a left-sided smile; she really enjoyed the physical effect from being close to Hermione.
Had Fred and George really slipped Hermione a love potion? It was highly unlikely, at least from what Fleur knew of them. They never much cared to play practical jokes on the uptight brunette, knowing full well how upset she would become.
What had happened to Hermione then? If there was no love potion involved and she claimed not to have a crush on Gabrielle…why had she acted so mindlessly? Mentally shrugging, Fleur selected not to think about it for the time being.
"So how much time is left before I have to go up?" she asked, jerking away slightly, startled, when Hermione violently twitched, apparently so lost in thought she had forgotten Fleur was there.
After a quick glance at her watch, Hermione was surprised to see that only ten minutes had passed since they left the kitchen. Time seemed like it had gone much faster than that. "A good while," she responded. "Why?"
Fleur smiled enticingly. "Want to make out?"
"Fleur!" Hermione exclaimed. She felt the tips of her ears heat up and was glad the other girl would not notice, due to the near pitch black of the room.
"What?"
"We're in Ginny's room!" she hissed, swinging her head to look at the door, as though she expected the entire Weasley household to come barging in.
"So what?" Fleur shrugged casually, clearly not caring where they were. "I'm just thinking ahead is all. How often are we going to find ourselves alone for an undisturbed hour in the next two weeks? I say we take advantage, Ginny's not going to come up here until I give her the sign we're done arguing, and I doubt she'll let anyone bother us." She smiled cheerfully, knowing that the other girl recognized a good point when she heard one.
Shaking her head disbelievingly, Hermione could not help but smile, feeling inexplicably fond of Fleur's straightforwardness at asking for what she wanted. "You're serious."
"'Course I am." The blonde nodded firmly. "If it comes to kissing you, when am I not serious?"
The older girl stared at her for a moment, before she burst into laughter. The indignant look that appeared on Fleur's face made her laugh even harder. "I love how you always make me smile," she smiled cheekily, squeezing the blonde's hand. "But if it's all right, I'd actually like to do some reading."
She blinked. "Sorry?"
Pointing to Ginny's dresser, she explained. "I checked some books out of the library yesterday and I've been meaning to read them."
"You want to read them now?" Fleur asked, gawking at her girlfriend as though wings had sprouted out of her ears.
"Yes."
"Well, no." With that, she tilted her head and pressed her lips against Hermione's. At a slow, soft rhythm, she rubbed their lips together, savoring the familiar taste of the brunette's mouth she had missed all day. She felt Hermione's cool palm touch gently against her cheek.
"No what?" she asked, pulling back slightly and gazing into those vibrant blue eyes she loved so much.
Leaning into the hand cupping her cheek, Fleur was overcome with tenderness towards the other girl. Maybe it was those beautiful brown eyes that swam with love and affection, but she found herself in an unusually caring and gentle mood. "I just want to be close to you," she whispered tenderly, completely bypassing any witty, Fleur-like remark she would have normally answered that kind of question with.
Hermione was slammed by the raw emotion in Fleur's loving gaze. Searching the blonde's eyes, she could see none of their usual joking humor, but only vulnerability and love. It was so unusual that Fleur said such romantic things that Hermione was not used to it. But she discovered that she liked it. It was just another side to the beautiful blonde that no one else but her was able to see.
Leaning forward, Hermione closed the distance between their lips. Just before they touched, she muttered, "I love you," and hoped the younger girl could hear the emotion in her voice.
"I love you too."
Hermione already knew it was hopeless as she watched Pigwidgeon's tiny form disappear into the quiet night with the thick letter she had spent the last two hours writing and rewriting until her hand was sore. The chilly night air drifted in through the open window, but she hardly noticed as she gazed out into the dark yard. She was so used to the cold by now…
Fleur had been nothing but cold to her, icy and cruel, for the past two months. She hadn't even responded to Hermione's first letter two weeks ago, which had left the brunette in a state of panic. Did Fleur somehow not receive the letter? She found it hard to believe that the younger girl could read the letter and not respond; Hermione had poured her heart and soul onto that long scroll of parchment, described everything she had been feeling those past months and why, expressed her deepest thoughts and emotions…Fleur would have written back if she had read it.
Banging her head against the window frame and clutching its sill in a firm, nail-shattering grip, Hermione desperately clung to her last withering strand of hope that Fleur hadn't changed so much as to ignore her soul on paper. Which was why she had written the second letter, a replica of the first, or as close to it as possible; she could not recall word-for-word what she had written the first time as it had been so long. It didn't matter though—as long as Fleur read it was the important thing.
But did it really matter if the blonde read it? She had spent the last three months trying to hate Hermione…what if she succeeded? What if she really did hate her?
Heart aching, Hermione swiftly pulled the window shut and banged her forehead against the cold glass. Tears were threatening to fall once more. It seemed that all she did was cry these days: cry over regret, cry over heartbreak, cry over the love that could have and should have been hers…she imagined the agony she was feeling now was akin to the Cruciatus curse. Hermione never thought she could hurt this badly. But here she was, completely lost and hating herself so much that she wanted to crawl out of her skin and die.
It was her fault that Fleur hated her. It was her fault that Fleur didn't love her anymore. It was all her fault. The letter she had just sent off to travel halfway across England would do nothing to fix the problems she, herself, had created. If only she could have shoved aside her stupid reservations at being in a romantic relationship with her best friend and actually told Fleur that she really did like her.
Clenching her fists so tightly that her nails dug painfully into her palm, Hermione bitterly realized that she would have had to accept her feelings for what they were for her to tell Fleur that she returned them. It had taken her too long…
"Hermione?" said a quiet voice from behind her.
Twitching violently in surprise, she spun around to face the person who stood in the doorway to Ginny's room. "Fleur?" Her heart thundered as the blonde figure stepped more into the room. Her features became more and more visible as she glided into the lamplight. "Oh…" Disappoint welled in her chest. "Hi, Gabrielle."
"My apologies," the blonde lilted, "I did not mean to startle you."
"It's fine," said Hermione, turning back to stare out the window. She saw several gnomes scurry away from a curious Crookshanks.
Gabrielle Deveaux was the slightly older version of Fleur; they looked so much alike that this was not the first time Hermione had mistaken her as her sister. It had happened three nights ago when she had arrived at the Burrow. Gabrielle's presence in the house served as nothing but a constant reminder of what she had lost.
"Um, what's up?" Hermione asked, wondering why the older girl had decided to visit Ginny's bedroom, as she had never done so before, and trying to figure out a way to get her to leave without appearing rude.
Gabrielle did not respond right away, but stared at the brunette with a somewhat intrusive expression, as though she were studying her, trying to figure something out. Only when Hermione shifted uncomfortably under the intense gaze did the blonde soften her features to a warmer, but somewhat sorrowful, expression.
"Have you received any letters from Fleur lately?" Hermione asked abruptly. It occurred to her that if anyone was currently in contact with Fleur, it was Gabrielle. After the Triwizard Tournament, she wrote to her sister at least once a week.
"This afternoon, yes," she responded, reaching into the back pocket and smoothly pulling out a folded piece of parchment. Hermione's eyes widened slightly when she saw it; that parchment had been in Fleur's hands mere hours ago. "It was brief and vague, however."
Hermione said nothing, still staring at the letter by the other girl's side. She had caught the troubled tone in her accent though: Gabrielle was worried that something was wrong with her sister, as short letters were a rarity from Fleur. She always found something to ramble on about, which usually resulted in impossibly long letters. Hermione had always found it to be such an adorable habit.
"You're in love with her," Gabrielle stated quietly.
Hermione's head jerked up startled. Clearly the blonde had found what she had been searching for when she spent those moments studying her. "I'm sorry?" she asked.
"You're in love with my sister." She did not look upset or fazed in the slightest. If anything, she looked remorseful.
Sighing, Hermione moved and sat on the camp bed against the wall. There was no point in denying what Gabrielle obviously already knew, not that she even had the strength to. "That's what it's called, I suppose." She wanted the other girl to leave the room. Two minutes alone with her and she had already found personality similarities between her and her sister: blunt and perceptive.
Opposite from leaving, Gabrielle moved across the room and sat an acceptable distance away from the brunette. Leaning her head against the wall, she turned to look at Hermione, who sat upright and stiff, with her hands formally clasped. "You have not told her, I presume?"
Hermione was unspeakably grateful that Gabrielle still possessed her French accent. Her English had improved, yes, but it was spoken with an obvious accent, so unlike Fleur's. "I've told her…in a letter a couple of weeks ago. She never responded." Glancing at Gabrielle, she saw that her eyes were the same exact shade and size as Fleur's and quickly looked away.
Gabrielle shook her head disappointedly. "Fleur…" she said, sounding somewhat angry. "I will never understand that girl."
"I thought I did," Hermione whispered, her voice cracking slightly. As she had not spoken of the blonde for the entire summer, it sent tendrils of fresh agony barreling into her chest at an overwhelming rate to by talking about her now, instead of keeping her thoughts and feelings inside her head, safe from the eyes and ears of others.
"Fleur, you are late," Gabrielle stated even while she was swinging open the door.
A breathless Fleur stepped inside, running her hands through her hair, attempting to smooth out the bed-head look. "Sorry, got distracted." Even though Percy's room was on the landing above Ginny's, she was still red faced and out of breath.
"Oh, I am sure." An amused smile twitched at the corners of Gabrielle's mouth as she watched her younger sister continue to straighten out her appearance. "I presume this means you and Hermione did not fight."
"Nope, there wasn't even one bit of yelling. Kind of surprising actually, normally there's one of us who loses it a bit…usually Hermione." Frowning, Fleur stared at a long scratch in the floorboard. She had given up trying to fix herself and instead tried not to think about the after effects of Hermione's hands and lips all over her upper body. Her stomach still tingled from where the brunette had spent a good five minutes with her lips and tongue.
"I can see that," Gabrielle agreed, nodding thoughtfully.
"Yeah…she thinks Fred and George might've slipped her some love potion." Still staring at the floor, she scratched the back of her head.
Gabrielle turned sharply, looking intensely at the younger girl, who had been startled by her sudden movement and was now looking at her curiously. "Do you believe that is the truth?" she asked slowly.
Fleur had caught the cautious tone in her sister's voice but was unsure how to read it. Shaking her head, she said, "I don't think they did it. They usually just leave Hermione alone, jokes like that would be more targeted at me. But Hermione believes it."
"Does she?" Doubt flashed so quickly in Gabrielle's eyes that when Fleur screwed her eyes to take a closer look, it was gone.
"Yeah," she drawled, staring quizzically at the other girl. "And thanks for telling me about how close you guys got this summer. Makes a girl feel special, you know."
Rolling her eyes, Gabrielle moved and sat on the rickety chair at the desk, crossing her legs and throwing Fleur a critical look. "She was heartbroken, Fleur, completely devastated at your obvious lack of caring. You cannot fault me for doing all I could to help."
"I don't," she said quickly, taking small step forward and raising a hand slightly, as though to emphasis her honesty. "I do appreciate it, really. I'm just bitter that I wasn't actually there when I could've been…like, really bitter." Closing her eyes, she tried to ignore the hollow feeling in her chest at recalling such a painful mistake.
"And jealous," Gabrielle stated bluntly.
"Well, yeah," Fleur said shortly, as though it was the most obvious thing. "But I try not to think about it. Hurts too much." Sitting on the edge of Percy's old bed, Fleur was surprised at how soft it felt. She had expected someone like Percy to sleep on a hard mattress…maybe it was his harsh personality that gave her the impression. In her opinion, he should have been sorted into Slytherin.
"Good plan." After studying the younger blonde for a few moments, Gabrielle smiled. "You're happy," she observed, appearing satisfied.
Nodding, Fleur gazed at the wall the in bare wall in front of her. "I am." Taking a deep breath, she held the air in her lungs and then exhaled slowly. "I just never thought I would end up here, I never thought Hermione would fall in love with me…actually, I'm still finding that hard to believe. We've been going with each other for over a month and it still hasn't quite sunk in." Chuckling quietly to herself, Fleur looked at the older blonde with blissful amusement.
"She's always loved you, Fleur." Allowing herself a satisfied grin, Gabrielle felt pleased at her sister's happiness, and wanted to supply her with more to smile about. She would need it soon…especially when the truth was revealed. Christmas was eight days away…Fleur's world would fall apart in only eight days. Feeling a horrendous sense of dread, Gabrielle kept her face straight so as Fleur's perceptive eyes and mind would notice nothing.
"I know, but she hasn't always been in love with me," Fleur stressed, oblivious to any turmoil the older girl was feeling.
An old memory popped so vividly into Gabrielle's mind that she could almost feel the warm summer breeze gently caressing her cheeks.
"I think I've always been in love with her," Hermione said, almost shyly, as she fiddled with the sapphire studded ring on her middle finger.
Gabrielle did not open her eyes, but remained peacefully still from her position on the blanket they had laid out in the Burrow's yard, completely unsurprised by the brunette's realization. She smiled softly though, aware that Hermione, who had chosen to remain sitting upright, was watching her carefully for a response.
"Is that so?" Gabrielle asked, curious to hear her reasoning.
Though she could not see, she was sure that Hermione was nodding. "Yeah…I mean, I don't think I was in love with her when we were first years or anything, but the personality was always there, most of the traits she has now, she had then." Pausing for a moment, she struggled to find the right words to describe her thoughts. "I'm not saying she hasn't changed since then, she's changed quite a bit actually, but there are just some things…they're the root of Fleur, the foundation for the person she is."
The breeze was warm against her face, and Gabrielle felt herself growing drowsy from the comfortable temperature and lying on a blanket in the soft grass. "Like what?" she questioned, opening her eyes now, afraid that she might fall asleep while the other girl confided her feelings and thoughts.
After searching her memory for the perfect answer, Hermione said, "Her protectiveness over me." Smiling fondly, she smoothed the creases in her pants and stared at the blanket in front of her. "There was one time in second year, Draco Malfoy called me a 'Mudblood' and Fleur threw a fit. Where she even knew what that meant, I have no idea, but she pulled out her wand and cursed him so he threw up slugs for the entire day after. Professor Snape gave her an entire week of detention for it…"
Gabrielle chuckled, her throaty tone resonating like a beautiful song. "Sounds like something she would do."
"And before last year, she never failed to let me down," Hermione continued as though she had not heard the other girl. "Even when I was completely horrible to her, she would just smile and brush it off like it was nothing. I think she's the only one who can handle my mood swings."
From across the yard, she spotted Harry, Ron, and Ginny come outside with their brooms over their shoulders. "Fleur was always such an amazing person. Year after year, she stood by my side, comforted me when I needed it, made me smile, made me laugh, completely infuriated me when I was trying to study, but only because she thought I needed to relax a bit."
Ginny was coming towards them now, carrying an extra broom for Hermione.
"To be perfectly honest, I've always had a bit of a crush on her," Hermione said, feeling a bite of irritation that they always expected her to play Quidditch when they needed a fourth player, and then remembering that she had promised at breakfast to join them. "Not that I knew what it was though. I always thought my feelings for Viktor was what a crush felt like—that kind of nervous tingling in your stomach—but Fleur always made me feel so much more…I didn't feel nervous around her, but I felt so warm and happy, and I loved to touch her, whether it was a hug, kiss on the cheek, or even just brushing shoulders as we walked to class…"
Hearing the tender affection in the brunette's voice made Gabrielle smile. Fleur had finally found someone to love her unconditionally. Her only hope now was that her younger sister would suck up her pride and listen to reason. There was no doubt that Fleur still loved Hermione; if she wanted to hide behind some Matthew Vaughn for the time being, then so be it. Once school began again, she would realize she was still in love with her brunette counterpart…there was no question about it.
"I would not doubt your inability to fall in love at a young age," Gabrielle lilted. "I believe you and Fleur are meant to be together."
Hermione struggled to her feet, looking pleasantly surprised by the blonde's words. She said no more, however, as Ginny had reached them. After muttering a quick goodbye, she departed with the jubilant redhead.
"Fate decided my sister's path the very moment she was conceived," Gabrielle whispered to herself, watching as four brooms kicked off from the ground. She followed the head of wavy, brown hair fly awkwardly through the air. "And you, Hermione Granger, were chosen to walk that path with her."
There was, in Gabrielle's opinion, no better candidate.
"I would not be so sure about that, Fleur," Gabrielle said decidedly. Resting her arms against the back of the chair, she laid her chin on her hands and watched as the younger blonde frowned, puzzled.
"Er…yeah, I can be pretty sure." Grinning, she slapped her palm against her right index finger. "Because if technicalities factor in, I doubt Hermione was in love with me back when we were both four-foot-six." The mental image of a twelve-year-old Hermione gazing mindlessly at her, like she had at Gabrielle during dinner, made her laugh.
Shrugging both shoulders and eyebrows, Gabrielle gave a defeated smile. If only Fleur would listen to the words she said; she might notice the subtle hints she was trying to give her, the hints that would put together what Gabrielle was forbidden to outright tell her. If she was correct, Hermione already had some idea what was happening and was downstairs, at that exact moment, pouring over the books that would give her the answer.
When Fleur mentioned a love potion earlier, she had wanted to laugh. Gabrielle was positive Hermione knew it was no such thing. But when she discovered the secret, would she tell Fleur? If so, she needed to find some way to stop her. This was something Fleur needed to figure out on her own or from the words of its creator next Sunday.
They spent the next couple of hours talking about anything that came to mind. While Gabrielle spoke of her work and Bill, Fleur mainly stayed on the topic of Hogwarts, uneager to visit the subject of her inability to pick up a quill the past summer.
It was only after the Yule Ball that the girls grew close, for Gabrielle had always given the impression she was not very fond of her younger sister before then, and their relationship continued for the next year and half through letters. Fleur realized that this was the first time her and Gabrielle had really talked before, talked about things more than Hermione that is. And she found she enjoyed it immensely. She enjoyed having an actual sister for once.
It was late when Fleur drifted back down to Ginny's room. Gabrielle insisted they both go to bed, as tomorrow was her day off and Mrs. Weasley tended to wake them at an almost cruel hour of the morning. Not thrilled by thought of an early start while on break, Fleur reluctantly left, but not before making plans with Gabrielle to take a walk to the nearby village the next day.
When she arrived at Ginny's room, she found the redhead inclined against a pile of pillows, scribbling on a roll of parchment. Hermione was sitting cross-legged on the floor, using her camp bed as a desk for the half dozen open books she was perusing through.
Ginny, who had looked up when Fleur entered, noticed her bewildered expression as she stared with raised eyebrows at Hermione's bed. "She's been like this for the past two hours," she told her, gesturing at the brunette. "Won't say a word what she's researching though…"
Chuckling, amused, Fleur bent down to get a closer look at the books her girlfriend was so engrossed in, but the second she began to glance over the illustrations, Hermione swiftly raised her wand. The books flew shut and immediately zoomed back into the open drawer before she even had a chance to read a title.
Jumping to her feet, Hermione stared at her with the bleary-eyed look of someone who had spent an excessive amount of time reading miniscule print in inadequate lighting. "Well, I'm done reading for the night," she said in a rather high pitched voice, which caused Fleur to frown and gaze suspiciously at Hermione's drawer. "Think I'll go to bed now. You lot should do the same," she added, giving both Fleur and Ginny a pointed look.
"I need to finish Dean's letter first," Ginny said, returning her attention back to the parchment in her lap.
"You look awful, Hermione," Fleur said, not without some humor, as the brunette dug through her drawer for her pajamas. "It's not unhealthy to take a break every once in a while, you know. You would look less like an Azkaban prisoner."
Rolling her eyes, Hermione stood up and threw a set of pajamas at the taller girl. "Blunt as ever, Fleur." She allowed herself a tired smile to show the other girl she wasn't offended by her teasing. "And I forgot that I actually did shrink your pajamas."
"Good thing I reminded you then," said Fleur, unabashedly pulling down her sweatpants. She offered Hermione no time for a closer look, however, for she immediately slid into her pajama bottoms. Shrugging out of shirt, she had the decency to turn around as she removed her bra, and yanked the t-shirt over her head. Spotting a sweatshirt on her camp bed, she also pulled that on.
"I'm going to the bathroom," Hermione announced, clearly not as comfortable as Fleur to change in the bedroom.
With her pajamas in hand, she made her way to the door but was stopped by Fleur, who had grabbed her arm. Soft lips pressed against hers, lingered for a moment and then pulled back. Pleasantly surprised, Hermione hardly noticed as the blonde ushered her out of the room.
Ginny smirked at the giddy looking Fleur while she closed the door. "She told you, didn't she, that I knew?"
Turning around, the blonde offered her a lopsided smile before climbing into her camp bed against the wall. "Yeah, she told me." Staring up at the ceiling, Fleur was incredibly at ease and happy for the first time in so long. Not even thoughts of her father or of Hermione's involvement with Harry and Dumbledore's meetings could bring her mood down.
There was a sharp knock on Gabrielle's door. She glanced up from the book she was reading on the bed and wondered who was outside her door at such a late hour. It could not have been Bill, who had just been in to say a quick good night before retiring to his room on the landing above. Did Fleur perhaps need to talk about something else, something she had forgotten to bring up earlier?
"Come in," she called, pushing off the covers and moving to sit at the edge of the bed.
The door creaked open and a pajama clad Hermione slipped inside, carrying her daytime clothes in her left arm. Closing the door, she turned and faced Gabrielle, just as the blonde was trying to wipe the look of surprise off her face.
"I did not think you would figure it out so soon," Gabrielle said warily, running a hand through her platinum hair.
Stepping further into the room, Hermione knew she had been correct with her theory: she felt no mindless obsession in the presence of the older girl, did not even feel a single symptom for a crush. With a sigh, she realized she had to accept the truth as it was…she had so dearly hoped she would have been wrong. "You weren't trying to help me get over Fleur this summer, were you," Hermione asked in a low voice.
Gabrielle shook her head guiltily. "You are correct," she confirmed.
"You wanted me to stay in love with her."
"I was simply attempting to reduce the agony you felt," she responded, observing the countless emotions flash across Hermione's eyes as she stared a hole in the floor.
Hermione felt weak, tired from all the reading she had done, but even more exhausted by what she had unearthed. Fleur, the girl she loved, the girl who was climbing into bed right below them, was completely oblivious to the truth that had been hidden from her since birth. Hermione knew that something was wrong with her the moment Fleur stepped into the kitchen after Gabrielle arrived. The mindlessness, the obsession, it only occurred when the sisters were in the same room with one another. Hermione hoped that she had thrown Fleur off with her fake love potion theory.
"Fleur doesn't know, does she?" Hermione already knew the answer.
Gabrielle shook her head. "She does not…if all goes as planned, she will find out on Christmas day."
Her jaw dropped and she stared angrily at the older girl. "This Christmas? The one only eight days away?" She did not wait for Gabrielle to respond. "Fleur's been so excited about this Christmas for weeks, and you're going to ruin it by telling her—"
"By telling her what she needs to know!" Gabrielle interrupted, jumping on her feet and advancing slowly on the other girl.
Clenching her fists, Hermione was visited with the desire to kick the blonde. How she could have kept this secret for so long, she did not know. But this would completely devastate Fleur, and to tell her on Christmas day…Would it be Gabrielle who told her? Would it be Gabrielle who told Fleur she had been misled her entire life?
"Well, if she needs to know," taking slow steps backward, Hermione closed the distance between herself and the door, "then I'll just hop on downstairs and tell her. Might as well ruin her holiday from the start."
"No!" Gabrielle lunged forward and grasped the brunette's arm. "You can't tell her!"
"Why the fuck not!" Hermione hissed, jerking her arm out of the other girl's reach and backing herself into the door.
"She either has to figure it out on her own or from the words of its creator," Gabrielle whispered, massaging her right temple with her nimble fingers. "I've tried to give her hints, but she hasn't caught on."
Hermione glared at her with disbelief. "Of course she hasn't caught on!" Flinging her hands in the air in frustration, she began to pace furiously around the room. "She's always been told she was muggleborn, your damn mother has always claimed to be muggleborn! Why should Fleur suspect otherwise?"
Shrugging helplessly, Gabrielle dropped down onto the bed. She said nothing.
"But that's the truth of the matter, that's the truth you and your Squib mother neglected to ever mention to Fleur." Hermione stopped pacing and gave the blonde a scathing look. "I won't tell her," she decided, nodding her head slowly. "But believe me when I say I am not doing this because you told me to…" She grinded her jaw in a vain attempt to release some of the raging fury she felt. "I'm doing this for Fleur…it's you she deserves to hear the truth from, not me. You and whoever this 'creator' is can bear the burden of telling her that it was Kieran discovering you mother's heritage that ruined their marriage." Her eyes glowed dangerously. "Fleur began to show signs of magical power when she was six, didn't she? Right around the time your parents got a divorce, am I right?"
Gabrielle's stared sadly at her feet. Her silence was answer enough.
"She'll never forgive you, you know," Hermione said quietly, gazing at other girl, who winced at those words. "She'll never forgive you for not telling her about her heritage." Swallowing hard, she tried not to feel sympathy for the miserable looking girl in front of her. "Your mother may be a Squib, but that still makes Fleur a half-blood. That news won't matter though, will it? Not after she hears the next part…" Closing her eyes, Hermione wanted nothing more than to be downstairs with her blissfully ignorant girlfriend and forget she had ever found this out. "I think the news that she's not fully human might upset her the most."
"Hermione…" Gabrielle began weakly.
Holding up a hand, the brunette cut her off. "Just do me a favor, Gabrielle," she said, her voice softening slightly.
"Anything."
"Can you…" Hermione took a deep breath. "Just make sure that she knows there's nothing wrong with her…that there is absolutely nothing wrong with being half Veela."
Gabrielle's jaw clenched, but she nodded. Looking up, she saw traces of tears in Hermione's eyes, and she knew the other girl was only looking out for Fleur, and that her fury was only sparked because of deceit. "I can do that," she promised. "I am, after all, half Veela as well."
A/N: I know I've continuously said that Fleur was muggleborn, but I've been planning this twist for a while now, I think since Chapter Six. Everything will be explained in the next chapter though because it'll be Christmas. Might take me a while to write though, and I apologize. But school really is a bitch.
Sorry for any mistakes made, but I'm in a bit of a rush to get this up. I have a friend coming down for dinner in about two minutes so I haven't had time to go over it completely. Wanted to post it before I left for the night.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed!
