Hermione hadn't slept much. Fleur had tossed and turned, and more than once through the night had she crept from the bedroom and towards the bathroom as she expelled her evening's fun in a ball along the tiled floorings. Of course, each time she had crawled back into bed; having brushed her teeth with a miserable pout, Hermione was there. Each of those times her hand coming to rest at Fleur's cheek. Consoling her and her reckless decision making, but not once uttering a word of it as she would all but smile at her.

Later that morning, Fleur gathered the courage to phone the schools head office. Still hung over, and impersonating a rather convincing cough, she whispered through a rasped throat that she could not come in to teach for the morning classes. To which - of course – she was wished well and told that she needn't stress over such a thing and to feel better soon. Fleur promised to do just that as she hung up the phone and all but sank into the duvet that Hermione in an instant shielded back over her.

"You're a rather convincing liar, Fleur Delacour," Hermione yawned sleepily. Her hair a tousled mess atop her pillow, and Fleur albeit weakly managed a smile. "I'm not certain as to whether I should be impressed or apprehensive of such a talent."

Choosing not to comment on the brunette's words but instead, reaching for her hand that rest curled along crumpled sheets, Fleur smiled. "Thank you, Hermione," she whispered with chagrin. "For caring for me; for putting up with me rather," Fleur stammered; unsure of how to go about with her appreciation, but appreciating her nonetheless. "I know that I am a handful at times, but nevertheless, you have my thanks," she muttered.

Hermione nodded. "You've cared for me on more than one occasion," she remarked. Not even attempting to remember the hand of times Fleur had all but carried her to bed as Hermione smiled. "It was high time I had a turn at it," she continued, and Fleur with a moan buried her head beneath the duvet. Her pain having yet subsided though in all honesty Fleur hadn't minded Hermione's soothing hand running circles along her back as she smiled. It was not the cure for her stomach, nor was it easing the coarse pain behind her eyes but it was pleasant and it was Hermione. That was all that mattered, Fleur decided.

"I was a bundle of nerves, Hermione," she confessed suddenly. Hermione's hand still running along her back, changed its pattern; almost slowing in her touch as she listened intently. "She was pleasant enough, and most amusing though even still I was in shambles a good bit of the night," proclaimed Fleur. "Come the end of our outing, I suppose I had carried two drinks in hand, I was so nervous," she expressed with a smile. "I was glad to have a made a friend, however," she added.

Hermione's nails ran in gentled traces up her spine, Fleur near catatonic at the touch as she turned her head against the pillow. "So you had a good time then?" she questioned, and Fleur nodded. Biting her tongue Hermione studied her closely. "You'll see her again?" she asked timidly.

Opening her eyes, Fleur shrugged. "I am uncertain still, but perhaps," she answered. Her hands kneading the comforter, still reeling from Hermione's gentled touch. "She shares much of the same interests as I do, even our taste in music; it was most endearing," she replied. "Gabrielle wishes for us to attend a gala together in the coming months."

"It is a celebration for Viktor's corporation; apparently they are expanding, and it is expected for Gabi to attend," Fleur said with absence. "She is his moral support as much as I am hers, I suppose," she added with laugh. "Of course, according to Gabi, I cannot be seen alone at such an event and she was rather insistent that Sophie come as well."

Hermione considered a reasoning as to why Gabrielle hadn't thought of her in Fleur needing a date, though said little in question of it. "That's moving a bit fast though, isn't it?" Hermione asked. "I know there's such a thing as eye-candy, but a gala insinuates a bit more than such, I should say."

Fleur shrugged. "I am not after 'more than such', I do not think," she expressed. "I have only just met her, and more than musical tastes and liquor we haven't much more in common that I know of," she paused. "However I suppose for Gabrielle that I should try, and Sophie is quite a beautiful girl," in a pause she looked to Hermione.

"Gabi is determined for me, Hermione," said Fleur. "She wishes me happiness, and in her wishes; at times, I can only hope that they do not bring about migraines," she quipped, and with a laugh, Hermione grinned.

"Even in her wishes, Fleur, if you're not certain you're ready than you shouldn't push yourself," Hermione whispered. In her words her hand lifting from Fleur's back, coming to grace against her forearm. "Your sister has good intentions, I'm sure, but you have to do what's best for you, not anyone else."

Closing her eyes Fleur had known she was right. Hermione often was, she thought, though what the brunette hadn't seen and what the blonde wished she would was that Fleur's hidden reason for trying was that beneath those quelling thoughts of trepidation was that it would never be Hermione she could give herself to. It would never be, and for a time she had thought perhaps with patience that would turn around, though in that patience raised nothing but a mere strain of hopelessness.

"To do what is best for me," she muttered, and Hermione with her hand patting at Fleur's arm leant towards her; lips pressed against her temple.

"Precisely that, love" Hermione answered, and while Fleur in her heart of hearts had known what was best for her lie a mere breath apart from whence she lay; Fleur also had known that what was best for her could never happen as she sighed. Deciding to make best of her sister's wishful thinking as her hand entwined with Hermione's, easing herself into a fitful sleep.