Hermione gazed hollowly at the shimmering transparent shield she conjured to block the fireplace. Fleur had managed to dive into the blinding, green flames right before the magical wall slid into place. It was her moment of hesitation that the blonde took advantage of. Hermione could have used another spell, a more effective one to stop Fleur from escaping, but damaged pride on top of everything she had just been told…Hermione refused to do that to her.
Though she had stopped crying, her cheeks were still wet with tears and she brought her sleeve up to dry her face. Hermione's heart had just been torn to shreds, but for a different reason; she could almost feel the agony rolling off Fleur, the shame, the doubt, the anger, the confusion, it radiated off her in intense flashes. It killed Hermione to see her girlfriend so lost in herself, it dug at her entire body like a parasite. She felt like she was trying to recover from being hit by a bus; everything inside of her hurt so much, but it didn't even come close to what Fleur was feeling.
Waving her wand in a wide arch, Hermione removed the shield and turned sharply to face Apolline and Gabrielle, who were both staring at the fireplace as though it had delivered them news that a loved one had just died. She mustered the darkest look she was capable of glared murderously at the blondes. "You two deserve Azkaban after what just happened," she hissed, surprised at how hateful her voice sounded; she had never spoken that way to anyone before. "I agree with Fleur." Her eyes narrowed on Apolline and she knew the older woman was aware of what she was referring to by the way her eyes watered slightly.
Whirling around on one foot, Hermione began to march across the kitchen towards the stairs. The first thing she would do was use the Visiting Mirror to find Fleur, and then she would take the Floo Network to her location and help her get through this. That was what Kieran asked her to do in his letter, but she wasn't going to do it for him. Apolline and Gabrielle might be liars, but she liked them a thousand times more than she liked Kieran at that moment.
Hermione abruptly spun around so she was facing the two women once again and glowered. "Did you know about Kieran?" she asked, her voice taking on a high pitched tone. Tears leaked from her eyes again and she didn't bother wiping them. "Did you know about the abuse?" Swallowing hard, Hermione tried to look furious again, but she only felt scared, absolutely petrified of the truth behind Fleur's words.
Apolline appeared to have absorbed the Hermione's anger because she suddenly looked animalistic; her features remained distinctly human but she was scowling so dramatically that Hermione thought the bird transformation would have been more pleasant to the eye. "We knew nothing," she said, smoke issuing from her fingertips.
"I knew there was something wrong," Gabrielle muttered, dropping weakly into a chair. "I knew but I did not do anything."
Satisfied that they were telling the truth, Hermione turned to leave. Her blood was so cold; she never felt so horrified in her life. When Fleur talked about the abuse…she had never felt so sick before and she wanted to throw up everything inside of her, anything to escape the terrifying words that came out of her girlfriend's mouth. The blonde had been living with this secret for months. Why hadn't she told her?
Sighing, Hermione had a feeling she knew the reason behind Fleur's reluctance: it was an inferiority complex. It was the same reason why her half-human blood status made her feel sick about herself. She felt like others were better than her just because they never went through something like that. Choking back another sob, Hermione braced herself against the doorframe to the stairway.
"Do not go yet," Apolline said, sounding much more collected.
Her face hardened. "I have to find Fleur," she said icily. Hermione took one step up and was propelled backwards, skidding on her heels for a second before falling painfully on her back. She looked at the staircase and saw the same shimmering shield she casted at the fireplace earlier. "What is your problem?" she snapped viciously, climbing to her feet and glaring at Gabrielle, who looked at her guiltily and lowered her wand.
Apolline's fingertips had stopped smoking and her chest rose and fell in a way that reminded Hermione of Fleur's morning meditation ritual. "We have matters to discuss," she stated formally.
Hermione's jaw dropped in disbelief. "Fleur is gone god knows where, and you want to sit around the kitchen and talk?" She chuckled humorlessly, shaking her head. Glancing at the stairs, she scowled at the Gabrielle. "Remove the barrier," she demanded.
"No," Apolline said firmly. "Fleur will not listen to us anymore."
"The perception in this family is simply marvelous," Hermione muttered under her breath.
The blonde raised an eyebrow but igored the comment. "There is still more we need to tell her about her heritage. It is important."
She immediately caught on to their game. "And you want me to play messenger, is that it?" Eyes narrowing, Hermione crossed her arms and rested her weight on her right leg. As much as she hated to admit it, the Apolline was right; Fleur hadn't stuck around long enough to hear the importance of her heritage. There was a reason for everything, as everyone around her repeatedly said, much to her escalating irritation, and Fleur deserved to know that reason. "Fine," she said offhandedly, as though she did not care for what they had to say. "Enlighten me."
The corner of Apolline's mouth twitched, giving the brunette the impression she saw right through her act. This did not please her in the slightest. "Please just make it quick." She swallowed hard, moving forward and dropping into the chair next to Gabrielle. "Fleur's out there somewhere, terrified and alone." Hermione gave the older woman a pleading look. "And I get the feeling that I'm the only one who can help her."
Apolline gazed at her for several long moments. Her eyes roamed up and down Hermione's body, taking in her changing emotions. It was clear the younger girl was being emotionally stretched; she was terrified for Fleur, furious with Apolline and Gabrielle, and stricken by Kieran. All because of her love for Fleur.
"You are not wrong."
The younger girl hadn't the slightest idea how right she was. If Apolline ever had any doubt about Hermione's significance in her daughter's life, it was gone now. Sitting down across from her and Gabrielle, Apolline crossed her hands and rested her arms on the table. "You play the most important role in Fleur's life." She paused and waited for her words to sink in.
Hermione nodded slowly, feeling her hands begin to tremble. Finally, she was going to get the truth out of these women. "I've gathered as much," she said irritably, wishing Apolline wasn't always so vague. Every second she spent here, Fleur was drifting farther and farther away. "What is this role exactly?"
Sensing the other girl's irritation, Apolline looked her directly in the eye and leaned further forward. "You are her Chosen."
Fleur skidded several feet on her stomach after rocketing out of the fireplace in a dark mess of ash. Terrified screams met her ears and she quickly struggled to her feet, ignoring the usual intense urge to throw up after Floo travel. "It's all right!" she exclaimed, holding her hands above her head to show she was wandless. "It's just me! It's Fleur!"
Aiden Vaughn squinted at the soot-covered Fleur for a moment before his eyes widened in recognition. "Fleur?" he said, lowering his wand, bewildered. "What are you doing here?"
Before she could respond, Matthew charged into the room, looking around wildly, and brandishing his wand. "Fleur?" He frowned when he saw her standing in the middle of his living room, covered in debris. "God, what are you doing here?" He too lowered his wand and took several steps forward.
"Not so fast, Matthew," Shalese said, flicking her eyes toward her son before scowling at Fleur once more. She had not lowered her wand. "How do we know it's her?" The Vaughn's had not yet lost anyone close to them, but the dark times had made her wary and untrusting.
"Mum," he said slowly, shaking his head and scratching his temple in embarrassment.
"Necessary precaution," she said stiffly, not taking her eyes off the other girl. "Ask her something only she would know."
Matthew glanced between Shalese and Fleur before rolling his eyes. "What did I get you for Christmas and how did I get it?" he asked, his gazed fixed on the other girl. Something was wrong, he knew; her entire demeanor shrieked with pain and confusion.
"A vial of Felix Felicis, twelve hours worth, you persuaded Slughorn to give you some after you were the only one who managed to brew it perfectly in class," Fleur said without skipping a beat. "Thanks by the way, you were right, I really do like it."
He offered her a quick smile. "Knew you would." He turned to his mother. "It's her," he declared.
Nodding slowly, Shalese flicked her wand, removing the dust and debris from Fleur's body, and lowered it. She moved forward and embraced the taller girl briefly. "It's good to see you again," she said warmly. "But what are you doing here?" Taking a step back, she took note of Fleur's slouched posture and miserable expression. "Did something happen at the Burrow? Were you attacked?"
"Nothing of the sort," Fleur said quickly. She licked her lips, staring at the floor to avoid eye contact.
Shalese studied her for several long moments. Finally, when she realized the other girl was here on account of personal matters and would say no more, she faced Matthew. "Why don't you take her on upstairs to your room," she suggested kindly. "Fleur, did you tell anyone you were coming here?"
Shaking her head, Fleur drifted close to Matthew, who gazed at her, clearly concerned. "No, but there's someone who knows how to find me," she said cryptically, letting her head fall on her ex-boyfriend's shoulder. He wrapped a comforting arm around her waist and she inhaled the smell of his freshly laundered shirt. "I'm sure she's figured it out by now." Hermione was intelligent; the Visiting Mirror would show her exactly where Fleur was. If the blonde had any idea this was how her morning would have turned out, she would never have given the mirror to her girlfriend.
Fleur did not know what she was feeling; her emotions were constantly shifting and twisting. Apolline and Gabrielle made her feel nothing but anger, hatred, and confusion, but when she thought of Hermione, she felt shame and betrayal. Fleur had no idea how long the other girl had been protecting her family's lies, and the fact that she even guarded them at all cut deeper than anyone would ever know.
She couldn't stand herself; she felt disgusting and dirty. Her entire life had been nothing but lies, deceit, and pain. It would not have been nearly as bad if Apolline just confessed that she was a half-blood witch, but no; Fleur was half animal, half of that bird thing she couldn't recall the name of. She might not transform into one, but she could feel the emotions that instigated it: rage, jealousy, a constant irritation that would never go away but she had learned to ignore. Hermione would never understand why she was sickened with herself, but Fleur knew. It was every time she lost her temper, every time she said something cruel and hurtful in a fit of spontaneous anger. She used to think she could control it, change it, but that was just another lie on top of the growing mound. The animal blood inside of her guaranteed a life-long struggle of anger she could never rid herself of. The Veela blood coursing through her veins was the reason she had hurt Hermione as much as she did. She was a true Mudblood after all.
"What's her name?" Shalese asked, breaking Fleur out of her thoughts.
Raising a hand to smooth her tousled hair out of her face, Fleur noticed the blood on her hands was dry and figured the Floo ride's heat had something to do with it. "Hermione Granger," she answered. "If you want something to ask her, she has a twenty six-year-old half-brother named Neal from her dad's first marriage. Not many people know about him so it's a safe bet." Hermione considered it a waste of time to tell people about a brother she had never even met. She didn't consider Neal family, hardly considered her own family a family, so she never mentioned him. However, Fleur knew the brunette was curious about him, as she was about everything unknown.
Her heart twisted painfully as Matthew led her through a narrow hall and up a long flight of stairs. Fleur loved Hermione; no matter how disgusting she felt, she needed the other girl there with her, she needed Hermione to wrap her in her arms and tell her everything was going to be all right.
Hermione blinked, not entirely sure what Apolline was talking about. In all the research she had done the past week on Veela, which had been limited due to the lack of available books, she never read anything of a 'Chosen.' "What's that supposed to be?" she asked, not even pretending to know anything about it.
There was a loud thumping noise from the landing above and Hermione heard Mrs. Weasley's muffled voice drift down, no doubt telling Ginny not to go downstairs.
Apolline quickly glanced at the ceiling before resuming. "Chosen are a Veela's anchor, in a sense. As you very well know, we are an emotionally unstable breed." A brief smile crossed Hermione's lips. "So unstable that Fate binds us with a Chosen, a vision of perfection in our eyes for they are the one person that can offer us the true stability we need to get through life. You, Hermione, are Fleur's Chosen, bound to her by Fate." Apolline paused for several long moments, allowing the younger girl to comprehend her words.
Hermione smiled softly at the worn table cloth in front of her and fiddled with its edges. She felt an intense surge of affection towards Fleur as she let Apolline's words sink in, and ached to go find her more desperately than ever. However, she knew she needed to stay and finish listening to the older woman's explanations. There was still so much Hermione wanted to ask her about. "Why did Fate pick me?" she asked quietly, trying to keep her voice even.
"You are her vision of perfection, like I said," Apolline explained patiently. "It is a mystery even to us how Fate works. All we know is that it chooses based on the stability the person and their personality has to offer us. For the past five years, you have been the one constant in Fleur's life, the one thing she could always turn to in her darkest times. You accept her for who she is and not what she is, though at the present time, she might have some doubts about that."
While Hermione thoroughly enjoyed hearing such nice things from another's perspective, she could not quite grasp the significance of it. "I'm not sure what you mean," she said honestly, her eyes resting on Apolline's face. She glanced quickly at Gabrielle, wondering if she was going to speak at all. "Yes, I'm those things for her, but other people can offer her that as well." She thought of Matthew when she said this and quickly expelled the image of him from his mind.
Apolline chuckled and leaned back in her chair, draping her arm over the armrest. "Not like you, they cannot. Fate has magically bound you and my daughter together, and that kind of bind is more powerful than anything you know. Fleur would be hard pressed to find another quite like you." Rubbing a finger over her eyebrow, she moistened her lips, preparing for a different approach. "If Fleur is ever angry, ever upset, you are the only one who has the power to relax her emotions to human resemblance. Veela anger is unnatural and not like anything you have ever seen. Fleur hasn't an idea how terrible or painful our wrath can feel." Apolline gazed grimly at the brunette, expressing through her eyes just how horrible it was. "You have saved her from that. Her emotions are extreme and they fluctuate greatly, but such is the life of a Veela. There are some things that can't be stopped, but you alone have the power to stabilize the worst of it."
It made sense in Hermione's mind now and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. She could not let herself think about it at the current moment, however, and stored it away in the back of her mind for future contemplation. "So you're saying the magical tie Fate has connected Fleur and me with gives me the power to stabilize her emotions to a more human capacity?" she asked slowly for clarification.
"That is correct."
"But what does that have to do with love?"
Apolline gave her a disbelieving look. "Hermione, it has everything to do with love," she said, as if it were abundantly obvious. "Love was what drew you together, allowed you to play the role of unwavering best friend through your childhood until you were ready to enter a relationship. The connection flows both ways, you are not only the person for her; she is the person for you as well. You two complete one another in more ways than you can imagine."
"For years, Mother and I have wondered if you were Fleur's Chosen," said Gabrielle, speaking for the first time. "She never stopped talking about you during breaks, even in your first years. There was always a certain spark of happiness in her eyes whenever she spoke of you, this fondness and affection that made us wonder."
The corners of Hermione's mouth rose into a tiny smile and she stared at the table cloth once again, as though displaying any form of happiness would be inappropriate. "How did you know I was her Chosen?" she asked in a hushed whisper.
Tossing her hair back, Gabrielle smiled in reminiscence. "She did not know it, but I kept an eye on the moment I stepped into Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament. The way she looked at you, Hermione…" she laughed, the gentle sound like a song in the brunette's ears. "I do not know how you remained so oblivious. She was so clearly in love with you, even back then."
"Is there really any reason for me to suspect my best friend is in love with me?" Hermione asked defensively, not pleased at how Gabrielle was undermining her sense of perception. She had seen the way Fleur looked at her, but she had always looked at her that way; it was nothing out of the ordinary. Quite frankly, Hermione enjoyed the attention, and the way it made her feel, too much to allow herself to ruin it by thoughts of romance.
Gabrielle nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose not," she agreed. "But it was only after the Yule Ball when I knew without a doubt you were her Chosen."
"Because she had that panic attack over Viktor and me," Hermione stated, gazing absently at Mrs. Weasley's clock perched in the dish rack. Fleur had explained to her what happened a few nights ago. It made sense though, her girlfriend's complete emotional breakdown. "It was her Veela blood that caused such a severe reaction," she said knowingly, before Gabrielle could explain. "I understand how it works now." She smiled at the older girl. "She was glad that you began to acknowledge her again after that." With remorse, Hermione wondered if Fleur would find it in herself to forgive her family.
Offering a stiff smile, Gabrielle leaned back in her chair and said no more, no doubt wondering the same thing.
"Can you explain the thrall now please?" Hermione requested, wanting to move away from the topic of Chosen, as she understood it now. She understood the role she played in Fleur's life and its significance. It surprised her how unfazed she was by the news. Perhaps it was because they were in a relationship, but Hermione was more than happy to perform the part Fate had given her. She was not afraid of it.
Mother and daughter exchanged a knowing look, as though they had been waiting for the question to be brought up, and Hermione felt slightly irritated by it. "The thrall is quite simple to understand," Apolline began. "All female Veela reach womanhood at the age of fourteen, which is when their thrall goes into effect."
Hermione nodded absently, her mind slipping back in time to their first day as fourth years when most of the male population of Hogwarts seemed to become enraptured by Fleur. "I remember," she said. "But how come it never affected me or our friends? What about Matthew?"
"Chosen are unaffected," Apolline said breezily, "as are a Veela's closest friends. The ones who care deeply about her are granted immunity to the thrall. Heterosexual girls as well," she added as an afterthought, "they remain immune also."
Her thoughts flashed back to Lavender Brown, and Hermione briefly entertained the idea that perhaps she was under Fleur's thrall. Maybe it would explain her dislike for the brunette. She never understood why Lavender was always so rude to her.
"As for Matthew, there is no doubt that he fell under Fleur's thrall in the beginning. However, as soon as began to deeply care about her, the thrall wore off, granting him immunity."
Hermione had overheard Lavender telling a fellow Gryffindor how Fleur's and Matthew's relationship began, and she was visited with the heart twisting image of a mindless and drunk Matthew making out with an unsuspecting, but equally as drunk, Fleur in an empty bedroom. The thought of it stung so much that she had to battle another surge of tears.
"Why do I fall under Gabrielle's thrall whenever Fleur's in the room?" she asked, desperate to distract herself. "In my research, it said that there are exceptions to the thrall among siblings, but it never explained what it was."
"Ah, yes," Apolline nodded thoughtfully, "another matter that is quite simple to understand. And if you read the book Kieran," Hermione and Gabrielle stiffened at the name, "has given her, it will explain it much more thoroughly. As a Chosen you remain unaffected by any Veela's thrall, but it still exists, it still wraps around their aura. You are only affected when Fleur is in the room because of Blood Reflection." She paused, waiting to see if Hermione knew what it was. When all she received was a blank stare, she continued. "Fleur and Gabrielle have the same blood pumping through their veins, and their blood type is what causes the thrall in the first place…Veela blood type," she added when Hermione gave her a confused look. "Their blood acts as a mirror and their thrall is reflected back and forth. Since you are Fleur's Chosen, the thrall settles on Gabrielle twice as strong, causing you to be affected and temporarily tainting your magical tie with Fleur, which makes her vulnerable to irrational emotion."
"Blood Reflection…" Hermione repeated, carefully running the words through her mind. "And it sparks Fleur's irrationality?" When Apolline nodded, she slipped back into thought. It would explain why Fleur had been so upset with her when Gabrielle was in the room, but had forgiven her so quickly when they reached Ginny's room. "But why isn't Bill affected by Fleur's thrall then?" She recalled several occasions when Fleur and Bill interacted when Gabrielle was around, and he seemed himself.
Shrugging breezily, Apolline unconsciously straightened the table cloth as Hermione pulled it out of place with her fiddling. "The thrall wears off when you are older, usually by early twenties. The potion I have created for you will suffice until then."
"What is the potion?" Hermione asked, going off the older woman's words. "It smelled like Fleur."
"In a way, that is exactly what it is—her essence in a vial. But you do not need to know the specifics," Apolline said, waving her hand dismissively. "The properties of the potion are an ancient Veela secret."
Nodding slowly, Hermione understood her tone and did not pursue the matter. However, she wondered if that was what Gabrielle's potion was; her essence in a vial, and why it had such a sexual effect on Fleur. She did not very much appreciate the purpose of the gift, and was a mixture offended and embarrassed that that was how Gabrielle perceived her.
"What does the locket do?" she asked suddenly, remembering the thin silver oval. Searching the kitchen floor with her eyes, she found the necklace glimmering beautifully where Fleur had thrown it. "And what does a Veela feel that's so different from a full-blood human?"
Apolline sighed and slumped down in her seat several inches, appearing exhausted. Hermione's heart tugged in sympathy and she quickly tried to shove it down. She had not forgotten what they had just done to Fleur, and though her head was reeling from all this new information, she knew she had to find her girlfriend as soon as possible. Fleur was still out there, she thought, biting down nervously on her lip.
"If you were anybody else, I would answer those questions," the older woman smiled. "But you are a Chosen, therefore—"
"Fleur and I will have to discover it on our own," Hermione interrupted, nodding in understanding. She had caught Apolline's subtle hint earlier about their relationship. Whatever the locket was, it was somehow connected to the act of making love, as was the core of the Veela heritage, which was why they had chosen today to confess their lies. It wasn't their desire to tell Hermione about the thrall or being Chosen; it was a warning for the first time they made love, which was bound to happen eventually.
"Correct," Apolline confirmed. "All I can tell you now is that the locket is a material representation of a Veela's love." She looked at Gabrielle, flicking her eyes towards the shimmering staircase. "Remove the barrier now." Standing up from the table, she faced the brunette, who followed her lead and climbed out of her chair as well. "Gabrielle tells me Fleur found you a Visiting Mirror?" Hermione nodded mutely. "Go and find her now, make sure she is safe."
Needing no further persuasion, Hermione rushed forward, pausing only to scoop the locket up in her hand and pocket it. By the time she reached the stairs, the barrier was gone and Gabrielle was standing up, moving next to her mother and placing a comforting hand on her back. A twinge of sympathy surged through the brunette's chest and she looked away from the sad sight.
"Hermione, there is one last thing," Apolline declared.
With one foot on the first step, Hermione glanced over her shoulder. "What is it?" She needed to find Fleur now; Apolline's constant interruptions of this were beginning to wear thin.
"Fate has binded you and my daughter together," she gazed grimly at her, "but you are not invincible to the trials of a regular relationship."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
Leaning into Gabrielle's body for support, Apolline gave her a serious look. "While nothing can break the tie between a Veela and their Chosen, it is not uncommon for them to be torn apart by whatever circumstances. A bind does not automatically mean a lifetime of happiness, though I must admit," she smiled, her eyes glazing over reminiscently, "it does mean a lifetime of love." Her expression hardened. "But if that love is not nurtured, you will both feel nothing but pain."
Hermione jerked her head, acknowledging that she heard the words, but said nothing. Instead, she faced forward and continued up the stairs, more desperate than ever to get to Fleur. She would think about Apolline's last words when there was time, but as of right now it was unimportant.
"Hermione, what's going on downstairs?" Ginny asked the second the brunette stepped into the room. "Mum's gone and told all of us not to go to the kitchen until one of you came back up. Where's Fleur?" She glanced over the other girl's shoulder as though she expected Fleur to follow her in.
Shaking her head dismissively, Hermione avoided her eye and moved straight towards her camp bed, not even noticing that someone had disposed of the abundant amount of wrapping paper. "Not now, Ginny," she said impatiently.
Spotting the Visiting Mirror where she left it on the bed, she lifted it up with her left hand and drew out her wand with the other. Apolline's image had disappeared from earlier and Hermione briefly wondered if the silent video vanished after a certain amount of time. Shoving that thought aside, she tapped the tip of her wand against the mirror's surface. "Fleur Delacour," she stated clearly, and watched as ripples interrupted the glass.
Her heart gave an agonizing twist when she saw where Fleur was. Feeling her legs tremble, she dropped down on the bed and gazed mutely at the framed glass in her hand. Fresh tears stung her eyes and she rapidly blinked them away, thankful that her back was facing Ginny. Taking several deep breaths, she placed the mirror carefully on her pillow with shaking hands and stood up. At least she knew where she needed to go now.
"I'll see you later, Ginny," she said hollowly, keeping her back to the other girl.
Immediately on her feet, Ginny stared at her back with concern. "Hermione, what's wrong?" She glanced towards the door, wondering if this had anything to do with the brunette's girlfriend. "Where's Fleur?" she asked.
Pointing a limp finger at the pillow, Hermione was out the door the second Ginny moved to take a closer look at the mirror.
"Oh…" Ginny whispered, staring down at the moving image. She glanced worriedly at the door, hoping that Hermione would be all right, and angry that Fleur would do such a thing. Why the blonde was even at Matthew's house was anyone's guess; but why was she was lying half on top of him with her face resting on his chest while he tenderly stroked her hair? It was no wonder Hermione had sounded so empty.
"That's intense," Matthew said, unconsciously running his thick fingers through Fleur's silky hair as she told him what happened. "And hard to wrap my head around. I can't believe they waited this long to tell you."
Smiling softly against his chest, Fleur tightened her arm around his torso and breathed a sigh of relief. "You don't think it's disgusting, me being half Veela?" she asked cautiously, wanting to make sure he was really okay with it.
"Of course not," Matthew said kindly. He spent a silent moment continuing to run his fingers through her hair. "But you do, don't you?" He asked it as a question, but they both knew he meant it as a statement.
Fleur did not say anything and simply basked in the comfort Matthew's strong arms offered her. She was not sure how to explain things without bringing her relationship with Hermione into the conversation. Now was not the right time for that. "I can't help it," she finally admitted. "I've said so many cruel and horrible things to people out of anger. To know that it was the animal blood inside me that caused it…" she trailed off, hoping Matthew would understand what she was saying.
"Veela aren't animals, Fleur," he said, keeping his gentle tone, "they're human beings. The only difference is the type of blood they have. That's all it comes down to really: it's your blood."
"What do you mean?" she asked quietly, playing with a crease in his shirt.
Matthew thought for several long seconds, struggling to find a good explanation. "Blood pumps through the entire body and brain," he began, momentarily forgetting they were not involved anymore and grasping Fleur's hand tightly in his own, "and because Veela blood is different, it makes your body feel different things. It doesn't make you any less human, it just makes you a different kind of human."
Nodding, she felt compelled to jerk her hand away but did not want to offend the boy who was doing his best to comfort her, so she let him intertwine their fingers. "Makes sense, I suppose," she said, wishing that his chest wasn't so hard. "But Veela turn into that bird thing when they're angry, and birds are animals."
"The bird is simply the representation of their emotions. It's what we all look like on the inside when we're angry. The only difference is that Veela show it." Using his thumb, he caressed the back of her hand. "Anyway, a person with that kind of beauty needs to have a dark side."
Chuckling, Fleur carefully pulled her hand away and tapped his bicep with her fingertips. "Can you please stop making sense now?"
Smiling widely, Matthew prodded her shoulder. "Why, is making you feel better?" he asked playfully.
Fleur shifted her body, moving further on top of him to get into a more comfortable position. He stiffened for a moment before relaxing, and resumed stroking her hair. "How long have we been talking for?" she asked quietly.
"Dunno, half an hour maybe," he responded, glancing at his watch.
Sighing, Fleur bit her bottom lip. "For this entire time you've made more sense than…" she trailed off, realizing that she was about to bring Hermione into this.
"Then who?" he asked curiously.
"No one," she said dismissively.
Gazing out the window, Matthew saw flakes the size of quarters falling from the sky. He took a deep breath and stilled his hand, resting it on the small of Fleur's back. "We both know you're talking about Hermione," he said slowly.
"If you already knew, then why'd you ask?" she asked, trying to sound casual, though her insides had erupted with panic.
"I wanted to see if you would tell me." There was something in his voice that gave Fleur the impression he knew more than he was letting on.
"Oh…sorry," she responded dumbly, not sure what else to say. Fleur was beginning to feel very uncomfortable, like coming here was a big mistake, that letting Matthew wrap his arms around her just because he was familiar comfort was something she should have stopped.
Matthew sighed. "If you wanted Hermione, why didn't you just stay at the Burrow?" he asked with an unreadable tone.
"She betrayed me," Fleur said.
"No she didn't," he disagreed, shaking his head.
A surge of annoyance ran through her body and she quickly tried to suppress it. Matthew didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of one of her moods. Nobody did. "She knew about my heritage and she didn't tell me, she guarded my family's secrets. Sounds like betrayal to me," she defended.
"It wasn't her place to say anything."
Deep down Fleur knew he was right. If Hermione had chosen not to tell her, there had to be a logical reason behind it, as the brunette always told her everything. However, she was visited with the strong urge to deny the truth. "Maybe not, she could have at least given me some warning on what would happen today," she argued weakly.
"Why do you always do that, Fleur?" Matthew asked, his voice raising, sounding frustrated for the first.
Angling her head, she looked up and into his warm, brown eyes. "Do what?" she asked defensively, not appreciating his irritated tone.
"You always seem to push away the people who are trying to help you."
Affronted, Fleur opened her mouth to retort, but Matthew cut her off. "Hermione loves you, but you're pushing her away on some idiotic accusation of betrayal. It was your family that betrayed you, Fleur, not Hermione, so don't distance yourself from her because you think you're not good enough."
"That's not what I'm—"
"That's exactly what you're doing!" he interrupted, glaring down at her defiant expression. "If you don't want me to get a handle on things, don't bloody explain them to me," he said angrily. "I know what's going on between you and Hermione, okay, I'm not stupid." Fleur's eyes widened and her grip on his arm tightened. "And you think the 'animal' in you sets you beneath her somehow, which is why you're looking for a way out of it. You're accusing her of betraying you only so you can end the shame and self-loathing you're feeling for yourself."
"Matt, how did you find out?" Fleur asked, her eyes drawn to the frowning boy under her. She was listening to the words he was saying, but she was still caught on the face that he somehow knew about her and Hermione.
"Lavender and Parvati talk about it sometimes, and I've seen the way you two look at each other," he said, avoiding her eye and scowling at the ceiling. The unaddressed question of whether she had cheated on him still hung in the air. "But that doesn't matter right now. Fleur, don't push Hermione away," he begged, closing his eyes. "You need her just as much as she needs you. Don't be so selfish as to think your entire relationship is only about what you feel."
All thoughts of what Lavender and Parvati said about her vanished when she heard Matthew's last statement. He was right of course, but it infuriated her that he could so blatantly accuse her of something like that. Why did people insist on shoving her flaws in her face when she already knew them? "I am not being selfish," she said darkly.
"No?" Matthew said, opening his eyes and staring down at her. "Why did you come here then, to my house? Why are you lying half on top me when you know she's going to use the Visiting Mirror to find you?" Fleur opened her mouth, but no words came out. "You wanted to hurt her the way she hurt you for 'betraying' you. If you weren't so bloody selfish, you would see that she's already hurting the way you were. Do you think she wanted to keep the secret of your heritage from you?"
Tears forming in her eyes, Fleur buried her face in Matthew's chest once again and clutched at his shirt. "Shut up," she whispered weakly, her body trembling in the strong arms he wrapped back around her. His words were tearing at her heart more then she could take. The feelings he evoked were ripping her apart more than her family's betrayal, more than Kieran's abuse. Matthew was killing her with his words.
"Don't ever blame your actions on your Veela blood because that is not the cause of it." He pulled the sobbing Fleur tighter into his arms, stroking her back soothingly. "It's you, Fleur, it's all on you. You used to blame your cruel actions and words on your emotions and now you're blaming them on your heritage. Not once did you ever stop to think that it was your lack of self-control and self-involvement to your feelings alone that had you acting so cold."
Clenching his eyes shut, Matthew allowed tears to fall from his remorseful eyes and onto his pillow. "You're always looking for an easy way to suffer the consequences of your actions, you always seek out and blame everything that goes wrong about you on other people." His breath hitched, but his voice remained strong. "You think you can do whatever you want, regardless of who it hurts, because it's what you feel like doing. It's okay to say something to cruel because you were only acting out of anger; it's okay for you to completely disrespect the woman who gave you life all because she waited sixteen years to confess your heritage. You're sorry after you've calmed down a bit, so what's the problem, right? Well it doesn't work that way. Don't think that just because you feel everyone is better than you that you're entitled to say whatever you want."
Fleur's nails dug deep into his ribcage and he bit back the pain. She had long since broken, he knew, but she needed to hear this. "Well I've got something to tell you, Fleur: you are on the same exact plane as everyone else, you are equal to them. You're not beneath them, you're equal to them. You don't understand how much your words and actions hurt other people, because they view you as an equal, they value what you have to say and the second you disregard their feelings, it hurts them more than you know. You rarely take responsibility for your actions, choosing instead to hide behind the walls of your emotions and heritage, and blame others."
Clutching at Matthew's chest, Fleur's entire body writhed with agonizing sobs. "Why are you saying all this?" she rasped, beating his chest with a weak fist. Her insides, everything she was feeling, it had snapped; she didn't know what to do with herself anymore. "It hurts, Matt, everything hurts!" She cried out, digging her fingertips into his ribcage again. Fleur couldn't stand herself anymore; she wanted out of her skin. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she apologized desperately, praying that this would somehow relieve some of her pain. It didn't.
Matthew's stomach jerked as a fresh wave of tears fell from his eyes. "I know, Fleur, I know," he said, his heart twisting with agony. "But you need to hear this."
"Why?" she exclaimed. "Matt, make it stop, it hurts too much!" Squirming uncontrollably, Fleur dry-heaved as her sobs had become so intense. "I just want it stop!" Nothing had ever caused her to feel such unbearable anguish; not even Hermione's rejection the year before.
"You can make it stop," he said quietly, gazing at the ceiling with tortured eyes. "You just need to let Hermione in; she's the only one that can help you anymore." His chest was wet from Fleur's tears and his body ached from having her on top of him. However, he barely noticed these small discomforts. Fleur needed to hear the one thing that was most painful for him to say.
"She's seen your flaws, Fleur; she's lived through, suffered, dealt with, and accepted every single one of them. And her love for you has never wavered, not even once. How many people do you have like that in your life?" He shook his head. "There is not one other person who has accepted you entirely for who you are and loved you for it. Hermione's the one for you, Fleur." Staring at the figure that had just entered the room, Matthew's heart cracked. "She's always been there for you, always been willing to help you, just like she'll help you through this. She's seen your darkest sides, been victim to it more than her fair share, and she still continues loves you."
Hermione slowly approached the bed, gazing at her writhing girlfriend with anguish. Holding up his index finger, Matthew silently told her to wait.
"Your flaws are killing you, Fleur, not your Veela heritage. Hermione's the only one who can help you change it, change yourself into someone you love, someone you don't feel so ashamed of being. Maybe one day you'll see in yourself what she's always seen in you."
Fleur's body still squirmed with unbearable agony but it was lessening slightly. Matthew's words offered the blissful comfort she could only dream of; a calm spirit. "I can't do it," she sobbed. "I've done too much, I've said so many things."
"You can't take back the past, Fleur, but you can work on a brighter future." With closed eyes, he caressed the blonde's back comfortingly. "It won't be easy but with Hermione by your side," he looked directly into the brunette's eyes, "you can do anything. You just need to let yourself."
"Where is she? Matt, where is she?" Choking, her body jerked and she continued to sob uncontrollably. Fleur had never needed Hermione more in her life than at that moment, but what was taking her so long to get there? Had she seen her with Matthew in the Visiting Mirror and decided Fleur didn't need her? Her chest gave another unendurable lurch of agony. "I fucked up and hurt her again, she's not coming! I shouldn't have come here, you were right, I knew she would see us!" She hardly recognized the voice coming from her mouth; it sounded so childlike and high pitched, an incoherent mess. "I need her, Matt, I need her so fucking badly!"
Hermione opened her mouth to announce her presence, and looked a mixture of distressed and furious when Matthew gave her a sharp look to stay silent. "Are you willing to change, Fleur? Are you willing to forgive your mum and sister? Your father? You need to be capable of forgiveness before you can change, or it will all be in vain. Grudges are a source of rage that your Veela blood will feed off of."
Nodding vigorously, Fleur buried her face deeper into his chest. "I want to change, I need to change," she cried desperately. "I'm so tired of hurting, I don't want to hurt anyone else! I deserved the abuse from my dad." She clutched his shirt so tightly that her nails reopened the marks in her hand. "He still loves Mum, I knew he still loved her when I said those things. It was so bad, Matt, I hurt him so much!" Her eyes were clenched so tight that it hurt. "He let me go to Hogwarts because he loves her and he loves me, but I turned it against him, made him feel guilty about it. I was so angry…god, what the fuck is wrong with me?" Mixed with her remorse was a tiny feeling of relief; she had been holding that in for so long, locked it away as one of her secrets never to confess. Fleur hoped that with her honesty, Hermione might arrive.
"You're going to change that, Fleur," he said gently, nodding his head at the brunette, silently confirming that she could make her presence known. "Hermione will help you."
Fleur always wondered what it would be like to be insane, always wondered what it would feel like. Now she wished she never had. If going insane meant the emotional torture akin to what she was feeling, she wanted no part of it. All she wanted was Hermione; the older girl always kept her safe, kept her grounded. "Where is she?" Fleur croaked.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Hermione reached forward and gently touched the younger girl's arm. "I'm right here, Fleur," she said, her voice sounding much lower than usual. "I'm right here."
Fleur's eyes snapped open and she turned her head around to face her teary eyed girlfriend. "Oh my god," she whispered. Propelling herself out of Matthew's arms, she collapsed against Hermione and felt the other girl wrap her in a warm embrace as she sobbed uncontrollably. Fleur had never been more relieved to see her in her entire life.
"It's okay, Fleur, I'm here. Everything's going to be okay now." Placing a tender kiss on the blonde's head, Hermione willed the tears in her eyes to away.
"I'm so sorry," she cried into the older girl's neck. "I'm sorry I hurt you, I shouldn't have come here." Everything Matthew had said about her had been right, and for the first time she felt motivated to change. She needed to fix herself and her stabilize her emotions before she completely destroyed herself. It seemed that people saw in her what she wouldn't allow to see in herself. Fleur didn't hate herself for being half-Veela, she hated herself because of the person she was. She hated how her emotions always bested her caused her to say inexcusable things. Discovering her heritage had only given her something to blame it on, given her other people to blame it on. In her desperate attempt to feel better about herself, she hurt the ones she loved.
"It doesn't matter anymore," Hermione whispered consolingly in her ear. "I love you so much."
"I love you too," she responded, desperately clinging to the shred of warmth in her chest at the other girl's words. "You're going to help me right? I mean, how much were you here for?" Her sense of coherency had returned, and even though she was still on an emotional overdrive, exhaustion was beginning to weigh her down, make her numb. But it was okay; Hermione would take care of her.
Nodding, Hermione glanced at Matthew, who was staring impassively at his socks. "I heard enough." She smiled softly, kissing the younger girl's head again and inhaling the fruity smell of her shampoo. "And do you even need to ask me that?"
Fleur's snort turned into an almost hysterical laugh. Lifting her head up, she gazed at Hermione, noting the unshed tears and expression of protectiveness and affection. "Just thought I'd check." Offering her a lopsided grin, she averted her eyes, feeling self-conscious of her puffy-eyed, wet appearance. "I look like a troll gone for a swim, don't I?" she joked embarrassedly.
Bringing up a sleeve of her periwinkle blue jumper, Hermione began to tenderly dry the blonde's face. "You look beautiful," she whispered so sincerely that Fleur's chest tugged pleasantly, replacing the insufferable agony and remorse.
Licking her lips, Fleur tasted the remains of salty tears. Hermione should have been the one she turned to for help; she shouldn't have pushed her away. "I am sorry I came here," Fleur repeated her earlier apology. "You're the one I should've turned to for help, I'm sorry I pushed you away."
Shaking her head softly, Hermione raised the corner of her mouth into an affectionate smile and smoothed a strand of tousled blonde hair behind Fleur's ear. "You panicked and didn't know what to do," Hermione said forgivingly. "Logic and panic don't mix well together. I completely understand why you ran, and I already knew you would try to push me away, so I wasn't too worried." Her eyes darted towards Matthew, who turned away as soon he saw her looking. "Please don't be sorry that you came here because I'm not."
Fleur wasn't sure what she had wanted to hear but Hermione's words were making her feel even worse. "Why do you always forgive me so quickly?" she asked miserably.
"Because I love you," she said without missing a beat. Reaching forward, cupped the blonde's cheek in her cool hand. "And everyone is entitled to make mistakes."
Staring dejectedly at the other girl's chin, Fleur wished Hermione would stop being so understanding. She, herself, always used her anger as a firing tool; why had no one ever done the same to her? It wasn't like she didn't deserve it. "Continuous mistakes are unacceptable," she whispered vaguely.
Hermione leaned her forehead against hers and slid her hand down to cup her neck. "I love you, Fleur, whether you make continuous mistakes or not. It's part of your charm anyway." Smiling softly, kissed her cheek. "But if you want to change that, then I'm here for you. Like always."
Nodding, Fleur buried her face in Hermione's neck again. "I want to change," she said sincerely. "I don't want to hurt anyone else."
"Good." Inhaling the sweet scent of the blonde's hair, Hermione smiled tenderly. "But the first thing you need to do is stop hurting yourself. Don't ever be afraid of who you are."
A/N: I hope my explanation of th Veela heritage satisfied everyone's curiosity. If there's anything I left out or that you're just curious about, let me know and I'll address it later. I was iffy on the direction of this chapter. Originally, I planned a short-lived break up for Hermione and Fleur, but I think having Matthew confront Fleur so blatantly and having Hermione there just in time to pick up the pieces was a better approach. Especially because of the 'Chosen' explanation. Please let me know if I made the right choice in that. Also, I know I didn't include any memories in this chapter, but I figured it was already long enough. I'll make up for it in the next one though.
A big thanks to my reviewers! Hope you enjoyed this installment!