It was mid-afternoon when Fleur opened her eyes. She found herself lying on the edge of a bed, her head rested on top of her arms and facing the door. Leaning backwards from the awkward position she had fallen asleep in, she released a contented moan as her spine popped as she stretched. A tired sigh escaped from her as she pressed her fingers to her eyes, wiping away any grit that had formed while she had slept.
Removing her hand from her face, she turned her gaze to the side and was greeted with curious but tired brown eyes. Her thin eyebrows rose in surprise and her mouth hung open. Minutes passed and neither of them said anything. A confused frown formed on Hermione's face as she tried to work out why Fleur was even in the room.
"'Ow long 'ave you been awake?" asked Fleur quietly, feeling uneasy under the brunette's gaze.
"Not long" stated Hermione as she averted her eyes from the nervous Veela. Seeing her after all this time made Hermione feel something she wished to never feel again. Her frown deepened as she tried to work out why her heart pounded against her ribs when she laid eyes on Fleur. It had been years since she had seen Fleur, she should hate the part-Veela and for the life of her she couldn't and it frustrated her to no end.
Fleur felt her heart sink as she watched the frown deepen on Hermione's face but what did she expect? For Hermione to be happy to see her after all this time? To have forgotten all the pain and heartache?
Feeling her confidence leave her, Fleur turned her attention away from the brunette and made a move to get up and leave. She didn't know what had possessed her to stay in the room anyway. Upon seeing Fleur move to leave, impulsion got the better of Hermione and she reached forward to grab hold of the French woman's wrist.
First mistake of the day.
Hermione, in her rush to keep Fleur from leaving had exerted her still fragile body and caused a horrid burning sensation to rush through her chest. Gritting her teeth, Hermione released Fleur's wrist and pressed her hand to her chest to try and quell the horrid sensation. Alarmed, Fleur quickly sat on the edge of the bed and reached forward to take hold of Hermione's free hand. After a few moments, Hermione released the breath she had been holding as the pain reduced itself to a dull, manageable throb.
Glancing down, Hermione noticed two things: the first thing being that it felt nice to have someone hold her hand; the second, more alarming thing was the scarring on Fleur's arm. The Veela's sleeve had raised enough for Hermione to get a look at the discoloured flesh above Fleur's wrist and it made a familiar sense of despair stab at her.
"What happened to your arm?" asked Hermione. Her inner voice was screaming at her, demanding to know what the fuck was wrong with her. After all the damage Fleur had caused why would she concern herself with the Veela's health? Hermione knew why she just didn't want to admit it. She wanted to hide from the truth, to forget ever loving Fleur Delacour and for so long it had been easy for her to focus on her self-loathing rather than her heartache.
But to have Fleur so close….it toyed with her unbalanced emotions.
Fleur hesitated. She didn't think that Hermione was ready to hear the truth about how she had achieved the scars along her arm.
"Fleur?" the Veela shook her head and removed herself from the brunette. Lowering her sleeve she got up from her seat and departed from the room, refusing to look back at the sad brown eyes that refused to watch her leave.
Hermione released a sad sigh. Of course, why would Fleur want to talk to her? The woman should be disgusted by her presence after everything she had subjected Fleur to. The familiar ache of despair clawed at Hermione's heart as she lost herself to her thoughts and memories.
Fleur rushed down the stairs of the Weasley home, ignoring the bruised face of Luna as she sped past the injured witch and out the back door. So lost in her own thoughts Fleur didn't pay any attention to where she was going, just so long as it was anywhere away from Hermione and her damn curiosity.
Why had she stayed in the room? Both she and Luna had successfully managed to get to St. Mungos, collect the necessary potions and medicines and get back to the house with little injury. Wizards and Witches had been waiting in the darkness but they were no match for her or Luna.
Luna had received a few injuries from the fighting, bruises and cuts at most so upon their return, after administering one of Luna's experimental potions on Hermione, Fleur had insisted that Luna leave Hermione with her so Luna could rest properly and heal. At first Luna had been hesitant to leave but after threatening to inform Hermione of her lack of care for herself Luna relented.
It had made sense at the time for Fleur to stay; Hermione was in a delicate condition and with the administration of a new potion into her system there was no way of knowing if her body would react well to the foreign substance. So it was vital that someone stayed in case of any complications. But seeing the brunette after all these years….
Fleur shook her head, she didn't want to think about that.
Finally paying attention to her immediate environment, Fleur's heart sank a little as a weak, sad smile formed on her face as she knelt in front of a tombstone located near the edge of the Weasley home.
"'Ello Aimee. Sorry eet 'as been so long since I last visited" whispered Fleur as she read the name engraved on the stone slab. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she read the name she had chosen for her daughter.
Aimee Weasley-Delacour