Sorry it's a bit short (and late), but I wanted to get something up. Its been a crazy month but hopefully I'll be able to update more frequently, I got a kidney transplant so I'm having to recover now (so, if parts don't make sense, blame the drugs- that was also part of the delay), but I've got a 6 month vacation from work now to focus on other things (like this). Enjoy!
Hermione smiled at Fleur over the edge of her mug, sipping her coffee, her eyes glinting with a newfound playfulness. She'd been in this new world for a little over a week now, and despite retracing her alter's steps, digging through the notes left behind, the materials present, she didn't feel any progress was being made. Or at least, no progress that really mattered.
She looked away nervously when her chocolate eyes met cerulean, feigning renewed interest in her coffee, blowing on it lightly, watching the steam rise. Her gaze returned to the blonde after a moment, unable to keep from staring. She felt like a nervous schoolgirl.
The dark ceramic of the mug hid the smile playing across her delicate features, softened without the traumas of this world, smoothed over with the birth of her child, the life that she had been able to lead. A moment passed, her gaze focused intently on the dark liquid, nearly invisible, blending with the black of the cup, ebony blending with charcoal, mixing seamlessly as the lights overhead reflected off the sleek surface. She spoke, her voice soft, weak, coming out hoarse "What if-" she paused, clearing her throat, finding her voice, "What if we can stop him?" She didn't need to identify who it was she spoke about, there was never a need.
A slight gasp escaped her companion, wide eyes looking at her, snapping to find hers in a quick motion, a wave sent through blonde, a clatter of silverware hitting the plate beneath them. She continued on, her eyes adjusting their focus, drifting down towards the table, "Well, I just though, rather than hiding, what if we tried to stop him? I've done it once before," she placed her mug back on the table, and her hands moved with a mind of their own, her finger nails running along the groove near the edge of the table, the only imperfection on the polished surface, the sharp edge digging into her fingertip lightly, mirroring the pressure she applied, grounding her as she spoke her thoughts, uninterrupted.
"I mean, I had Harry and Ron with me, but we did it, we won, and maybe, I thought, I could use that knowledge to, to do that again," she finished weakly, losing her voice once again, but this time she forced herself to look up, to meet Fleur's piercing gaze, apprehension evident.
Her fingers continued running up and down the groove, tracing it, wearing it away minutely, little by little, a distance she'd never see, but she felt it, in her fingertips, in her ears where the scraping sound fell. A warm hand reached out, softly, lightly resting upon hers, ceasing her movement. Her hand twisted around, grasping at nimble digits, her thumb tracing lightly against their backs, feeling ridges, cuts and callouses, hands that worked, betraying their own strength. She looked up into fierce eyes, dark and stormy, lacking the ever present love she had grown used to finding, this Fleur was different, more ethereal.
The younger witch would have been terrified of the vision before her if she hadn't known about the bond, she knew Fleur wouldn't ever hurt her, but the logical side of her mind was only so strong, her emotional side? It said the Veela was a threat. She averted her eyes, focusing instead, into the abyss of her mug before her.
"'E 'as taken so much from us, brought ze filth from ze gutter and put it on display," she spoke indignantly, spitting the words out as though they tasted rotten, "I would love nozing more zan to kill ze vermin." Her hand clenched into a fist, hovering slightly above the table, tense, turning her pale skin white as she forced the blood from her fingertips.
Hermione reached out, cautiously, tentatively placing a hand on top of her mates, trying to reassure her, to calm her. Glowing sapphire orbs looked up, connecting with chocolate, grounding her, pulling her back from the edge, a light pressure connecting her to reality. Slowly her anger began to fade, her emotions settling as she was reminded there wasn't a physical threat.
"Sorry," she mumbled, her eyes drifting shut as her breathing evened out. Hermione squeezed her hand gently, unspoken words passing between them, acceptance, forgiveness. The meaning behind her gesture was clear, this was her mate, even if it wasn't her, they had the same mannerisms, the same touches, thoughts, feelings- at least, she suspected that last part.
Her fist unclenched and turned over, fingers wrapping around each other, clasping her mate's hand, thumb stroking the soft skin it found, tracing small circles as it ran over the tendons, following a path along the vein, slightly raised, collapsing under the digit as their paths crossed.
The younger woman relaxed at the familiar contact, repetition had always calmed her nerves, brought her comfort in the smallest of ways, the sureness it offered as they connected, sharing shy smiles, enjoying the newness of their relationship.
"So, does zat mean you are staying?" It was quiet, barely above a mumble, dying as it reached its destination, going no further than the ears of its intended, as though someone else may overhear accidentally, this forbidden information, a secret that would only be shared between the two.
The brunette's smile faded, her eyes dropping to the table and she pulled back unconsciously, folding in upon herself, "I'm not sure." Her voice didn't match the ferocious woman, didn't seem to belong to her, not this time, weak and unassuming, "I would like to return home, to my daughter, but I don't think it's up to me." She spoke honestly, painfully, cracking and hoarse.
She paused, her eyes unfocused, shiny and overflowing with emotion. She swallowed thickly, her hand coming to rest upon the table, fingers outstretched. It inched along slowly, creeping across the polished wood, cautiously moving forward, seeking contact with the cool skin of her mate. Lithe digits wrapped loosely around curled fingers, "But maybe it won't be so bad here?"
A pen turned between nimble fingers, tap tap tap as the plastic bounced off the table below, filling the silence of the library as its holder was lost deep in thought. A blank piece of parchment sat beneath her wrists, the same place as it had been for the past couple hours as she stared off into space, a look of concentration filling her face. Her bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she continued to worry at it, her brow creased.
A pause, a sigh, and the tapping stopped, and she finally spoke, breaking the heavy mood. "I think, we can establish some generalizations, our two worlds, they're not the same, they diverge at one major point though- that being my Fourth year. I'm sure there are some other points that are different but, without having my counterpart here, or anyone that we could really use to verify changes, we'll have to start with the tournament." The pen in her hand traced out lines upon the paper as she spoke, preparing the surface for a chart of some sort.
"You've already mentioned a few differences, mostly in regards to our relationship, and those are probably the most drastic given the lack of one in my world," she paused, her eyes looking up to meet Fleur's searching for agreement. She continued upon receiving a nod from the older woman, "But I would wager that there are other smaller changes as well, ones of varying import on our current predicament, I strongly doubt that the only change was the nature of our relationship."
"Now, you said Harry had died at the Battle and that Ron was now a Death Eater?" She scribbled those down, off to the side, in a column of differences (she'd left off their relationship so far).
"There's got to be something leading up to that point, Ron wouldn't do that, not without a reason. What about the horcruxes though? In my world, Ron left for a little, when we had the locket, before we could destroy it. He'd been angry with it."
"I zink, 'e still 'ad it at Shell Cottage. Zough I do not know if 'e 'ad taken it wiz 'im," Fleur commented, her features screwed up in contemplation as she spoke slowly.
Hermione made a note of that, "Do you know what we'd managed to destroy here?" Her eyes still focused upon the parchment before her.
Fleur began to count off her fingers, "Zere was ze diary, zen ze ring, zen ze cup, and ze diadem, I do not know if ze locket exists, and I zink zat iz it."
Hermione frowned, "Harry died, so that's another. That leaves Nagini and possibly the locket."
"Ze snake?" Fleur was unable to conceal her surprise at Hermione's mention of the slithering devil.
She nodded, "Yeah, do you think she could have died?"
"Mmm, no, I don't zink so," Fleur said seriously, "she iz a magical creature, she could live a long time."
"Right, so we should assume there are at least two horcruxes out there still, unless he's created more since then. And I don't even want to contemplate how bad that could be." She ran her hand through her curls, pushing it back out of her face, exhaling slowly.
Fleur nodded, "It would be best we start wiz ze known and zen worry about ze possibilities if 'e is not dead after zat."
"Nagini is always with him, so," Hermione reached for the map, "the problem becomes, where is he, and how do we get to him?" she spoke lowly, her voice barely audible as she studied the illustration before her, chocolate eyes focusing intensely as they scanned over the page as though hoping an 'x' would appear.
They worked long into the evening, deciding to focus on how to destroy the two horcruxes rather than worrying about their location. Hermione knew what had worked the first time, but if those two were the only ones left, they may not have the element of surprise like they had previously. It would stand to reason, if there were only two left, they would be heavily guarded and very well hidden.
At some point, they'd moved from the hard wooden chairs of the library to the plush couches of the living room, their uncomfortable memories already painful enough, there was no need to add to their discomfort. The fireplace crackled and popped, casting hues of orange and yellow across the room. Long shadows danced across the polished floor as the two women spoke of a distant time that seemed only a dream now.
She'd ended up recounting a good amount of what had happened the first time, pointing out issues that they'd had before- things that hadn't actually destroyed the items. The locket especially had given them issues, having resisted their attempts for months. Her fingers absentmindedly traced over the word carved in her arm as she recalled those dark times.
Fleur's eyes drifted towards the motion, her hand reaching out take hold of the brunette's, stilling it in its tracks. Hermione swallowed nervously, realizing what she was doing, her eyes glistened as she looked away. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more," Fleur whispered, whetting her lips as she forced back her emotions as well.
Hermione leaned against Fleur, falling into her, "Don't apologize, I'm sure you did everything you could." Her eyes clouded over with pain, wincing at the memory of being tortured at Bellatrix's hand. Her gaze drifted downward, focusing on the floor as her body shuddered.
Fleur wrapped her arms around Hermione, pulling her in closely, she continued to whisper, "She's gone, you're safe," the last part becoming a mantra as she clutched Hermione to her. It appeared this Hermione had not fared much better against the dark witch. How she regretted not being able to save either of them.
The brunette woke up, hearing muffled voices coming from the kitchen. She strained to listen in to what was being said, unable to remember so much as going to bed the night before. Confusion plagued her mind before she finally rose from the warm embrace of the heavy comforter to face the stress of the day. She shuffled her way to the closet and grabbed a pair of sweat pants and a hoodie, she wanted to be comfortable despite not knowing who it was that was currently in her house. Hermione pulled her unruly curls back into a messy ponytail, simply keeping it out of her face as she made her way towards the source of the noise.
She had barely entered the kitchen when she was assaulted by a tiny toddler sized missile. Leo had launched himself from the table and latched on to Hermione's legs. "Aunt 'Mione!" he cried out, his voice filled with excitement at seeing his favorite aunt. The English witch was temporarily stunned, her eyes wide, displaying her surprise to the world as her arms moved to embrace the young boy.
Fleur smiled, looking up from her conversation, "Good morning," she greeted, her smile bright as her sapphire eyes drank in the casual elegance of her mate. There was nothing that would cause her to think the woman before her anything but beautiful, but this version was one of her favorites, one that rarely made an appearance, especially in front of others. Hermione had never cared much for what others thought, but following the war, she had began to dress more professionally, more serious, betraying the loss of her youth and the scars that had been left behind. She had refused to allow the world to see the marks it had made, the childhood it had stolen.
She wasn't uptight by any means, still wearing jeans most of the time, but sweats were not normal, and t-shirts never happened without a jacket or or some type of shirt on top of them. She'd try to hide the physical wounds of the past whenever she could. "Morning, I'd wondered who I heard."
"Sorry, we didn't mean to wake you," Fleur responded, her eyes downcast, voice apologetic, her fingers fidgeted with the cup of coffee on the table.
Hermione managed to free herself from the unrelenting grasp of Leo, taking his hand and pulling him back to the table where she took his vacated seat. The smallest blonde of the group eagerly hopped up to sit on her lap, his smile wide as he showed off the gap in his teeth. Hermione smiled at him and listened to his disconnected rant as she reached out to take hold of Fleur's hand, squeezing it gently.
Gabrielle sat across from her, a cup of tea clenched between her hands as she watched her son as he babbled away, waving his arms wildly as he spoke, she couldn't help but smile. He was so happy and relaxed, enjoying the freedoms of childhood. "I know zat Maman pesters you often enough, but I cannot help but zink, you two would be good parents," she mused, her comment directed at Fleur, though her eyes cut to Hermione.
"Mmm," Fleur answered noncommittally as she feigned interest in her mug once more, raising it to take a drink of the steaming liquid. Though her eyes did drift towards the brunette. It was all the answer Gaby needed.
"Well, I am sorry, but I must cut zis short," Gaby said, her tone firm as her palms rested upon the table and she pushed up to stand,"I must 'ead to work now, I'll pick up Leo around seven."
Fleur nodded and Hermione finally broke away from Leo's chatter, offering a quick farewell before attempting to usher Leo off to do the same. He slid off her lap and made his way to his mother's side, squeezing her legs as he continued to tell Hermione about a recent accident he'd had involving a training broom and the geese that called the small pond home.
However as soon as his mother left, he stopped his story, midword and turned to Fleur, a mischievous glint to his blue eyes, "Can we go to the shelter?" he asked, his voice betraying his eagerness to play with the animals.
Leo hadn't waited for an answer before grabbing their hands and pulling the two women towards the door, setting off on the journey towards the small town, Fleur tossing a carefree smile towards Hermione who laughed as she tried to maintain her balance.
That evening, Hermione found herself looking at a picture of domesticity that she had never ever thought possible, much less something that she would be privy to. Leo had insisted upon dino nuggets for dinner, the fascination with the creatures not confined solely to muggle children. He had a pile of poorly shaped beasts upon his plate, surrounding their ketchup lake, hidden within the french fry forest he'd imagined.
Fleur had taken a seat next to him, an equally full plate in front of her as the pair made growling sounds at each other, their nuggets currently involved in a life or death battle. Fleur's stegosaurus was currently defending against Leo's t-rex. Hermione leaned back against the counter, arms crossed against her chest, watching as they played. She bit back the urge to chastise them (comments reminiscent of the "don't play with your food" that she had received from her own mother), instead popping a fry into her mouth.
A 'pop' from the living room signaled Gaby's arrival, she called out "We're in here," Fleur's stegosaurus was losing and she'd resorted to simply biting the head off of Leo's t-rex and claiming victory, much to the protest of Leo. He'd turned to her and begun to tell her Fleur had cheated when his mother walked into the room.
It was forgotten in favor of darting out of his seat, a shriek of "Mommy!" accompanying the blonde haired blur that rocketed across the kitchen. Fleur turned to look at her sister being attacked by her spawn, a smile reappearing on her face. She jumped slightly as she felt fingers gliding across her back, leaving a trail of tingles in their wake. Her attention returned to the brunette that was distracting her, teasingly so.
The pounding of shoes on the floor signaled the return of Leo, quickly squeezing the pair tightly before darting back to his mother, "See you next week!" he called out before they left.
She felt fingers trailing up her arm and looked nervously over at her mate, unsure of what had sparked this affection. They'd been close, but this wasn't her Hermione, and it had taken hers more than a week to feel confident enough to start anything.
Long, nimble fingers reached out, covering Hermione's, stopping her ministrations. "'Ermione," Fleur whispered, her voice failing her, feeling weak and unfamiliar, "you don't 'ave to do zis."
She knew they'd done more, before, but that, well, that she reasoned was probably just a lapse in judgement, a bad decision, impulses, a lack of consequences, something that would not be repeated. But she had been unprepared for the flash of pain, brief as it was, that passed across Hermione's features.
Her face fell, turning cold, closed off as her eyes hardened slightly. She cleared her throat and pulled her hand back, collapsing in upon herself, like a slap upon her cheek, Fleur felt a sting of emotion, instantly regretting her choice of words. She had meant them, Hermione didn't have to please her, not that way, not in any way if she didn't want to, she didn't want the younger witch to feel as though she was being forced into the situation, forced into a marriage she had not accepted.
Only a moment had passed before the brunette pushed up from her chair, taking her leave in silence, driving the divide between them further.
Fleur sat there for a moment, her mind still racing to catch up with what had happened, and then she found herself, her feet moving on autopilot, guiding her to follow after her mate. She wished for a moment, her mind had been in control, when she found herself standing in Hermione's room, their room.
Curls swayed and twisted, revealing the reddened face of the pale Brit, eyes glistening, "What?" she spat, forced vitriol in her tone.
It broke Fleur, crashing down upon her, an avalanche of emotion, running unchecked, swallowing everything in its path. She reached out, her fingers light, but grip firm, clasping around her wrist, pulling her close, a shallow imitation of the movements that started it all.
Her arms found purchase around the smaller woman, engulfing her slender frame, burying her face into Hermione's neck, her voice was weak, choked as she worked out the sound, trying to fight a sob. "I did not mean to 'urt you. I only meant zat I would not force you to do anyzing zat you do not want. I do not 'ave any expectations zat you should take ze place of your," she paused for a moment, her mind searching for an appropriate word before settling upon one, "counterpart."
She tried not to startle as she felt firm hands embrace her back, providing physical comfort, a gentle question was asked, "Did it ever occur to you that you could never force me to do anything I don't want?" There was a hint of teasing to her words, pulling a chuckle from her.
"Zat sounds like a challenge mon amour," she teased back, pulling away slightly, her eyes glinting.
Hermione had barely a second to brace herself before she felt Fleur's muscles ripple as her hands relocated themselves upon her body, forcing a laugh to erupt from deep within. She tried to force the blonde off of her, to defend herself as the other woman's hands roamed her body, finding her most sensitive spots, continuing to tickle her.
She lightly slapped at the misbehaving appendages, pushing and shoving, but found that she'd gone soft with time, something that the older woman hadn't. They moved backwards, until the backs of her knees collided with the edge of the mattress and she fell as they gave out on her, a yelp escaping between bursts of laughter. A breathy "stop" passing between them.
Fleur paused only a moment, climbing upon the bed, pinning the brunette beneath her, "Mmm, no."
Hermione realized her extreme disadvantage, but she could be a strategist too, she only had one thing on her side, she was on the bottom, and Fleur was on top of her.
She squirmed beneath the blonde, purposefully, feeling the air shift between them as her mate fell forward, hands now located on either side of her head, hovering just above her, her eyes darkening with lust.
Hermione smiled coyly up at her before stretching slightly, closing the distance between them. Their lips connected, softly, tentatively at first, exploring and testing, scared to push too far too fast.
This wasn't their first kiss, but it was the first they'd shared in private, without prying eyes or expectations, their first not fueled by alcohol in drunken need. It was just them, theirs.
Her hands moved as though guided by an invisible force, seeking out and connecting with Fleur, one tangling in her hair as the other came to rest just above the curve of her hip. She pulled her mate closer, feeling want pooling low in her belly, deepening the kiss until they both felt the need for air become too much.
They broke apart slowly, their bodies staying close, melded into one, separated only by clothes. Hermione smiled and whispered, "I win," before their mouths reconnected.
