Ch. 12 And Then.

On Monday morning, Fleur hummed (quietly, happily) to herself as she walked down the hallway. She could not remember the last time she felt like this, absolutely indestructible, like all the hardships in life were surmountable now that she and Hermione were "an us." Things were finally working out, slowly but most definitely surely. (Hopefully. Fingers crossed.) This, to understate, felt good.

Which is probably why she was interrupted by sneer that threatened to pop her happiness. "You seem … cheery."

Turning around, Fleur smiled her brightest, cheeriest smile determined not to let Snape depress her. "Hm?"

He walked closer, his sneer more clearly evident. "You're humming."

"Was humming or hummed, to be more exact." Snape raised an eyebrow. "I am not currently humming. Your tense was incorrect, I do believe." Fleur crossed her arms over her chest. "The Winter Holiday begins next week. That is reason enough to hum, I imagine."

Snape arched his eyebrow. He apparently did not agree.

"Are you lacking in holiday cheer, Severus? Surely you are looking forward to a nice relaxation away from the students you love so dearly."

"I suppose. And Ms. Granger?"

Fleur narrowed her eyes. "I am sure Ms. Granger has enough decency to enjoy the holiday season as well. Are you going to run through my entire class list to see if they are also enjoying the holiday season Severus? Because I assure you that most have the capability to enjoy the upcoming holiday and are seizing upon that capability. I suggest you do the same."

"So you think this… thing with Granger will last? You are a schoolgirl's experimentation. Do not delude yourself."

"And do not delude yourself that whatever you say has any effect on me whatsoever." She shook her head and continued walking. (Lies. Lies. Sticks and stones are nothing like words.) She turned over her shoulder and smiled. "Have a happy holiday. And someday, Severus, I hope you find something to that can make you happy."

Fleur remembered Saturday night so clearly (but never clearly enough). Standing outside the gate Hermione said she was scared. And Fleur laughed.

"I'm scared too."

"You are?"

(Of course, you silly little girl. Of course.) Fleur could only nod and smile softly.

"Can we… I mean this is all so new to me. I… can we go slow?"

Fleur's eyes slid closed as she inhaled, wanting almost to cry from relief. Instead a smile overwhelmed her face. She wanted to reach out and touch Hermione's cheek and say yes, yes I agree, but she found herself frozen, overwhelmed with hope. When words did come to the surface, she barely recognized the happiness in her voice.

"I… I can do slow." (Patience in all things. Patience in one thing.) Forward.

After classes ended for the day she found herself standing outside the Three Broomsticks trying to decide whether to go in. She needed someone to talk to, to beam at, and wondered if Rosmerta was the right person. Was the woman simply being a good bartender or did she sincerely care? But it was winter and Fleur was cold. In the very least, she would go inside, warm up and have a drink. If Rosmerta wanted to talk about the date, she would approach Fleur and ask. (Fleur hoped she did, prayed she didn't.)

As Fleur opened the door the warmth and the din of conversation met her like an old friend. While the place was relatively empty, it held the quality, the sound, the feel of being loud, of being full of life at all times. It was comforting in a way. Avoiding the looks that always followed her, she found an empty seat at the bar that was away from the general mass of people. It was as she sat down that Rosmerta caught sight of her. Turning away from the customer she had just finished helping, the older woman grinned and wiped her hands on her apron as she approached.

"Well, if you don't look pleased with yourself I don't know who does. You had a good date, didn't you love?"

Fleur could only smile for a moment before nodded. "The very best."

Rosmerta crossed the bar and leaned over. "I want details. And don't you dare thinking of leaving anything out. This bar is closed as far as I'm concerned until I'm satisfied."

And so Fleur leaned in over the bar and retold the whole story, from flower to notebook, in excited whispers punctuated by the large smile on her face. After she had told it all, Rosmerta grinned widely before excusing herself to attend to all her (patiently and not so patiently) waiting customers. She quickly returned to Fleur however.

"That is absolutely fabulous, Fleur. I'm so happy for you. You deserve it."

As soon as she spoke another group of people filled into the tavern. Fleur's eyes followed Rosmerta's darting around the now filling up Three Broomsticks.

"Love, I am dying to talk to you about this, but it's getting to be the rush. Come back later tonight? Maybe after closing so I can give you my full, undivided attention?"

Fleur blinked, surprised. "I have some grading to do, but what time does…?"

"Ten o'clock should be fine. See you then." It was more of a statement, an observation of future events, than a question.

Fleur tried to grade the latest batch of third year essays on werewolves, but she could barely concentrate. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Hermione, who she had not seen all day except in passing in the hallway. There they could only exchange a quick look, glances and meaningful smiles at best. She also had a sinking suspicion that she was grading far too kindly, but could not bring herself to grade more harshly

At around eight an owl scratched at the window. Realizing it was not Lothaire, her parent's owl, or any other owl she recognized, she opened the window with hesitant curiosity. Who would be trying to contact her? (Another ploy by Philippe to get her to talk to him again?) The Snowy Owl swooped in the room and gracefully landed nearby. It stuck out its foot expectantly. Fleur quickly took off the small note, making eye contact with the bird for a moment as if trying to ask the bird who sent it. The handsome owl stood and waited, obviously expecting a treat or a response back as Fleur unfurled the note. Either way the owl would have to wait for a moment.

Just thinking of you and wishing you were here right now. Harry is letting me borrow his owl. Her name is Hedwig. I feel absolutely ridiculous owling you across the grounds. See you tomorrow!

-H.

Fleur smiled, shaking her head. So adorable. (What did she have to worry about?) As she was scrawling a quick note in reply, she looked up to see Lothaire fly in through the open window.

Hedwig moved over to give more than enough room to the incoming owl, remaining aloof if not a little annoyed. Funny, Fleur had somehow assumed that if Harry had an owl, it would be overly friendly and possess a similar temperament to his owner. Taking the much larger letter from Lothaire, she feed both the owls a small treat before returning to writing Hermione a response. It took far longer than it probably should have. But what should she say? Finally, after some deliberation, she wrote something. Paused. Thought about it. Scratched it out. Got a new piece of parchment. Wrote something else that seemed more appropriate.

H-

Thank you for the sweet note. I was thinking of you as well. I fear I will not work done tonight. You are such a wonderful distraction.

-F.

After the message was fastened to Hedwig, the owl immediately flew out of the window. Fleur paused for a moment to watch the beautiful owl fly off before turning her full attention to Lothaire and her sister's seven-page letter.

The handwritten letter spanning front and back of the parchment in small handwriting detailed Gabrielle's latest exploit where she was nearly caught using a secret passageway, how her classes were going, and a barrage of questions about Hermione. Knowing she was unable to grade, Fleur sat down and began to reply back to her sister. Lothaire hopped around, alternating between chewing on something and trying to get more treats. If his chewing kept up, Fleur would have nothing left in a reasonably nice condition by the end of the year. Thinking this, she added a quick aside in her letter requesting Gabrielle to train her owl a little better. She had just about finished when it was time to head down and meet Rosmerta.

She arrived at the Three Broomsticks a few minutes after ten as Rosmerta was putting the chairs up.

"Bonjour," Fleur closed the door behind her shyly, suddenly worrying about what it might seem like, her coming over so late… did Rosmerta have the wrong idea? But, honestly, how could she? She trusted this woman, though she could not quite explain why.

"Good timing, love," Rosmerta grinned. "Just kicked the last of them out and now you have no excuse not to tell me every little detail of this wonderful, amazing date of yours."

The two women sat across from each other at a newly cleaned table in the empty room.

"So have you two talked since?"

"Mondays are a hectic schedule and she does not have my class, so I did not see her all day. However, she owled me earlier this evening saying that she was thinking of me." Fleur explained, trying not to blush.

"That's really cute. And you were all worried over nothing. See, what'd I tell you?" Rosmerta shook her head. "You responded back, right?" But Rosmerta didn't need Fleur's verbal response, she could read it clearly on Fleur's face (her blush, her shyness) that yes, yes she did. Not waiting for a response, Rosmerta leaned in over the table, her expression on of serious curiosity. "Now have you had any more of those… flash things?"

Fleur arched up her eyebrow in confusion.

"You said that when you first saw her at your doorstep, you clearly saw what she was doing a moment before, shifting from foot to foot, trying to work up the courage to knock."

Fleur, who had been examining her setting around her (she had never seen the Three Broomsticks so empty, so quiet), jerked her head up and looked directly at Rosmerta. "I said that?"

Rosmerta nodded, and leaned back, crossing her arms. "That you did. In passing, but you did."

"Oh, well… no. That has not yet occurred again." Fleur shifted slightly in her seat. She trusted Rosmerta, yes, but she should pay better attention to her words.

"Yet? Again? So this is something you expect to happen often?"

"It is…" Fleur sighed. "It is sometimes part of the bonding that occurs during the courtship ritual."

"But I though that the courtship ritual was when you two-…"

"That is the final sealing, yes. But the courtship ritual begins before that. It is not a linear process. It is steps forward, steps backwards that move in sync with the relationship. It's well…" Fleur exhaled. "A process."

"And this… these flashes of the other person's life is part of the bond that occurs?"

"Sometimes. It does not always occur, but at moments of closeness, extreme emotions or emotional alignment it has been known to occur, yes."

Rosmerta whistled. "This is no regular love."

Fleur could only shake her head and shrug.

"That's bloody intense. Does it scare you?"

"Yes." Fleur closed her eyes for a moment. "And no. It is simply… natural. But this naturalness has a scariness of its own I suppose."

"I can imagine. So what are you two going to do over the holiday?" Rosmerta shifted the conversation, picking up on Fleur's sudden discomfort. The French woman had taken to playing with the hem of her shirt.

"I… We…" And then Fleur's face dropped. "I do not know. We had not talked about it. It has happening all so… well, rather sudden. I have not had time to think about it."

"Yet. You should do that, Fleur. Don't rush her, but as I remember the holiday can run rather long and that might not be good to have such a long break for a fledgling relationship."

"I had not really thought about it." Fleur had imagined it, yes, fantasized Hermione coming to visit her in France, but it had never been a reality until now that something might actually happen. "It starts next week." And that is when she started to worry again.

The week before the holiday was a dreadful week to teach. With every passing moment, the students' minds were further locked on the upcoming break. Fleur soon accepted that she would get nothing of note accomplished this week. Monday was manageable, but by Thursday her classes were near uncontrollable.

And she was consumed with worry over what would happen over the holiday. She and Hermione did not have time to talk about it. Hermione was busy with her Head Girl duties and a final flooding of work before the term ended. Fleur, herself, was equally busy. They found moments, after and in between classes, yes, but nothing ever substantial. And Fleur became increasingly nervous that this was how it was going to be all year and they would progress, never move forward from this casual style of relationship where they fit each other around their busy schedules. And what about the holiday season? Fleur wanted to see her but was too shy to ask. She had to, needed to go to France, but would it be too much, too forward to ask Hermione to join her, at least for part of the holiday? It was best not to rush things but how does one know if they are going too slow?

Fleur was thankful when classes ended on Thursday and she could make her way up to the hospital wing and find respite from the day. Somehow, over the course of the week, Pomfrey's constant teasing began being counted as respite.

Fleur remembered the feel of Hermione's hands on her body as she carefully undressed down to her white slip and folded her clothes and laid them on the chair. (Would Hermione ever undress her? She hoped so.) She was arranging her shoes neatly underneath the chair when Pomfrey knocked.

"Come in," Fleur quickly stood up and moved to sit on the examining table.

"Good afternoon," Pomfrey smiled cheerfully. "How were classes today?"

"Dreadful." Fleur shook her head. "I simply cannot wait for the holidays."

"Classes have been dreadful all week. I think for Christmas I am buying you a thesaurus, Fleur. English being your second language is no excuse for using the same word day after day," Pomfrey shook her head and teased. She momentarily looked at some papers and then returned her attention to the French woman. "So let's see if this lovely turn of events has had any affect on you health-wise. I mean, you are certainly less mopey, that's for sure, but your vocabulary has taken a major turn for the worse. It is making me begin to worry that you might becoming a blubbering lovesick fool."

Fleur rolled her eyes. "I suppose I have a full session of this to look forward to, hm?"

"I'll try to keep it to a minimum," Pomfrey smiled warmly as she began the examination. What had, at first, been a robotic procedure, had now become a science. Fleur doubted it would ever become an art, a dance, but it was a well-practiced science, yes, between Fleur's body and Pomfrey's cold hands.

Halfway through the examination, though, there was a knock on the door.

"Yes?" Pomfrey looked up, frustrated, hating interruptions.

"Poppy," McGonagall's voice came from behind the closed door. "Mr. Winters was hit by a rather nasty hex and is in need of your immediate attention."

"Yes, Minerva," Pomfrey stood up and shrugged. "I'll be back shortly. Don't pull another one of your exits, Fleur. Just because things are starting to look in your favor does not mean you can skip out on your potion." She gave Fleur a preemptively reprimanding look before quickly exiting.

Fleur sighed and sat up from the table. After a few minutes, she began kicking her legs with boredom as she let her mind wander to Hermione. The feel of her lips, the way she said 'an us'…

A knock on the door broke her from her reverie.

'"Come in," she replied automatically, trying to wipe off whatever silly expression she had on her face so Pomfrey would not tease her.

The door opened hesitantly. Now Fleur had assumed it was Pomfrey when she said come in. She had assumed. She was wearing only a slip. A slip!

"I… uh…" Hermione dropped her bag onto the floor out of surprise. The brunette was clearly trying not to blatantly stare at Fleur's near naked form and failing quite miserably. (Fleur was pretty sure that she did not mind.) Finally, after several awkward seconds, Hermione succeeded at ripping her eyes away from Fleur's form. She became fixated on Fleur's neatly folded clothes on the back of the chair. (Her eyes, however, kept creeping shyly back before averting away again.)

Hermione, turning a deep crimson, cleared her throat and stammered. "Pomfrey said you were here and said that… she didn't say you were, well..." (Of course Pomfrey didn't.)

"Hermione?"

"Yes?" Hermione asked quickly, her eyes once again locked on Fleur's body and blushing deeply.

"Can you close the door behind you?" It was wide open. And while it was one thing for Hermione to see her in her slip, it was entirely another for everyone else in the hospital wing to see it as well. (Even if she was dating a student, she had to remain somewhat professional after all.)

"Oh, right. Yes." Hermione quickly turned around and shut the door. Immediately, Fleur stopped the pretense of covering her nearly naked body with her bare arms and leaned back. "Sorry. I…"

"Got distracted." Fleur smiled, almost playfully; fully aware of how Hermione's eyes had once again found their way back to her breasts.

"I…" Hermione dipped her knees and clasped her hands together in an incredibly cute gesture. "I… came by to see if… to see you really." Obviously. Hermione took a few steps into the room.

Fleur smiled. "Well, here I am." Probably more of her than Hermione expected to see, but oh well. Some things cannot be helped and Fleur was not about to complain. Fleur's eyes drifted shyly downward for a moment an when she looked up again, Hermione had crossed the room and was standing silently in front of her. "And here you are." The words came out more like a breath than a sentence. And here Fleur's heart was, in her throat. Beating loudly. (Kiss her.)

"I…" Hermione trailed off as she looked behind her at the door. (Kiss her.)

"You?" Fleur tipped her head to the side, placing both her hands by her side for support as she leaned slightly backward, in nervous anticipation, in a hopefully subtle attempt to… what? Lure Hermione in? (Kiss her.)

And then?

And then Hermione, seemingly having given up on her verbal capabilities, crossed the small distance between their two bodies, cupped Fleur's face in her hands and kissed Fleur softly on the lips. Her hand slid behind Fleur's head bringing her closer, deepening the kiss. Fleur sighed into Hermione's mouth, one hand clenching onto the end of the table for support and the other finding the small of Hermione's back and pulling her in even closer.

Fleur found that the hunger that underscored every kiss and every touch was becoming increasingly harder to ignore, to hold in, to control. And it was not a one-sided hunger. She could feel it in Hermione as it threatened to overflow her own being. Fleur wanted to let her control go. So badly. Closer. Deeper. Forward. More. More.

And Hermione?

And Hermione knew. She knew as she pulled back to breath, resting her forehead against Fleur's. As if to let Fleur know that this was only a momentary break, Hermione placed a finger tenderly on Fleur's lips.

Fleur closed her eyes and kissed Hermione's finger, vaguely sucking on it and flicking it with her tongue, refusing to let it go just yet. She held in her breath as Hermione's other hand made its way down her neck. When Fleur opened her eyes, Hermione's entire concentration was focused on her single index finger tracing and retracing the sloping neckline of Fleur's slip. Every once in a while, her finger would slip just barely beneath the fabric and Fleur's breath would catch. Fleur tried to remember to breathe, to hold some semblance of control.

Unable to handle the intensity of all much longer, she pulled Hermione into her and re-captured Hermione's lips. Hermione's (brave, bold) hand dropped only enough to cup Fleur's breast. Closer. Fleur could only draw her in closer. (It was never close enough. Would it ever be?)

And that's when Pomfrey knocked on the door, pausing only long enough to (barely) give the two women enough time to pull apart and look awkward. They both looked at (stared at) the ground. Fleur tried to catch her ragged breath as she scratched the back of her head. Her other hand rubbed her chest above where Hermione's hand had just been, wishing that it was still there. Wishing Pomfrey wasn't there. She adjusted the top of her slip as nonchalantly as possible under Pomfrey's pointed gaze (which for the record was not very nonchalant at all). Hermione shifted her weight from foot to foot and made an hm noise, seeming to have found something engrossing to look at where the floor met the wall. Fleur decided to look as well to find out what was so interesting.

"Sorry that took so long, Fleur. Ah, but I see Ms. Granger found you." Hermione looked nearly mortified with embarrassment. "Shall we continue the rest of your examination? Ms. Granger, will you please excuse us? I'll only keep Fleur occupied for a few more minutes, I promise."

"Right… well, um, I'll wait outside for you then when you're done then?" Hermione pointed behind herself awkwardly, and began to exit.

"Ms. Granger?" Pomfrey called out after her.

"Yes?" Hermione turned around.

"Your bag."

"Oh. Right." Hermione's face turned a deeper crimson as she turned back, grabbed her bag and then promptly left the room.

"Pomfrey, you are a horrible woman." Fleur remarked after Hermione closed the door behind her. "I am in my slip."

Pomfrey's smug smile only grew wider. "She showed up looking for you and I thought it'd take longer than it did with the hex so I sent her in to keep you entertained."

"I am in my slip," Fleur repeated.

"My mistake. Though," Pomfrey grinned a little, her hands cold on Fleur's flushed skin, "I do not think either of you minded. It appears Ms. Granger was able to keep you entertained with her… conversational skills while you waited."

Pomfrey was insufferable for the rest of the examination.

When Fleur left the hospital wing ten minutes later, she found Hermione sitting up against the wall thoroughly engrossed in a book. Fleur leaned up against the wall for a moment, enjoying the furrowed brow of the Gryffindor's concentration.

"Good book?" She whispered into Hermione's ear after leaning down to near Hermione's level.

Hermione jumped. Clutching her chest and looking up, she found Fleur standing there. There had been a time not so long ago when this would have caused the other girl to scowl, but now Hermione only smiled.

"Fleur! I didn't see you come in."

"I apologize." Fleur stepped back, giving Hermione room and a hand to stand up. "Homework?" Her eyes moved down to the book.

"Yes, I thought while I'd wait I'd…" Hermione took the offered hand and stood up. Once standing, Hermione blushed a deep crimson, as if remembering Fleur in her slip. The girl looked down for a moment and when she looked up Fleur was smiling in a way she had never seen Fleur smile before. "What?"

"I'm just smiling." (You make me happy.) "Thank you for waiting."

"Of course. I mean… you're welcome." The redness began slowly to subside from her face. Fleur only smiled wider. Hermione blushed further. "Well, I… I wanted to see you."

The Gryffindor looked around. The room was empty and there were no signs of someone coming. Hermione leaned in and kissed Fleur. Softly. Quickly. Again, the hunger threatened to overflow into the kiss and as Fleur moved to deepen the kiss, Hermione responded for a second before pulling away.

"I… I think I hear somebody coming." She whispered as she separated herself fully from Fleur. Sure enough, in a few seconds a Hufflepuff boy shuffled by pretending (poorly and awkwardly) not to notice Fleur and Hermione standing there.

"We probably should not here..." Fleur observed. They had a habit for being interrupted after all.

"No, probably not. And I should really do work. Unfortunately. But maybe I could…" Hermione stopped short and looked up. "Maybe I could come over later? To your place?" (Forward.) "Tonight? After I finish my work?" (The bold Gryffindor makes her move.)

Fleur nodded, a slow smile creeping up on her features. "I would like that." Maybe she could bring up the holiday then? And as Hermione gave her a quick kiss goodbye, her stomach was already a nervous wreak.

And then?