I hope everyone enjoyed Fleurmione week! We had some great submissions from a drove of talented authors. Excellent work, and thanks to readers and writers alike who participated.

This is the final(ish) chapter of Time. It's been a journey as my first multi-chapter, and I hope you have all enjoyed it as much as I have x

Six months passed quickly after their bonding ceremony, and Fleur and Hermione had their routine down to a science now. They stayed at her town-home in London, went to work, spent Friday nights with their friends, and spent the weekends either travelling or visiting the Delacour estate. It was perfect, frankly. Fleur had to go out of town a few times, but since the ritual, there was a fascinating connection that had strengthened between them.

It was like her skin had stretched to encompass one another other. She could feel Fleur beneath her; her lingering magic giving her away and telling her story at all times. Every emotion was clear, and the veela mentioned feeling similar sensations as well. It wasn't like they could hear one another's thoughts, but it was pretty darn close and the distance was inconsequential. Considering this, business trips were surprisingly bearable. She wanted Fleur to be home, of course, but at least she knew she was safe and happy.

The public had now completely gotten over the fact that the Minister of Magic was a big lesbian. Luna had done such a spectacular job on the article, and it was as if there was nothing anyone could say, realistically. She put it all out there—it was up to everyone else to just accept her at this point. And, really, they had. She had received thousands of handwritten letters since the interview commending her for her courage and vulnerability; for being open and honest with the public. She didn't need the validation, but it felt nice regardless. She felt like she had done the right thing.

Her new life was incredible when she stopped to think about it. Every day she woke up happier than the previous one. More content, more fulfilled. Each day she got to know more about the woman beside her, and she couldn't believe how easy it was to be with her. It still didn't feel like reality sometimes, but it is wasn't real she would happily remain ignorant. She'd never felt so lucky. She was so wholly and unconditionally head-over-heels, and overjoyed that she could finally express her love whenever she wanted. Well, not whenever she wanted, but you get the idea.

It was a Saturday morning and Hermione had a few sneaky plans for her mate this weekend. The blonde had pestered her to no end about what they would be getting up to, but the Gryffindor wasn't budging this time. She wanted it all to be a surprise—starting now.

Light fingers traced over the hipbones of her sleeping mate. The rising and falling of her chest let her know she was still asleep. She moved down and ran the pads of her fingers down to the top of a smooth thigh, stopping when her leg twitched. She smiled, continuing to trace patterns around the sensitive area.

Wait for it, wait for it, she schooled herself. She worked down the inside of her thigh, scratching with a little bit of her nails this time. Fleur made a cute little noise in her sleep, but it worked. Hermione grinned and shifted down the bed, carefully swinging a leg over the sleeping blonde and raising her own hips briefly as she lined up the hardened morning addition with her entrance.

The blonde stirred a little as she ran the tip through her delicate folds to wet it. Fleur's eyes were moving behind her eyelids now. The brunette lined up again and lowered herself onto her length with a deep sigh as her mate filled her.

Fleur's blue eyes shot open immediately and her jaw dropped as she took in the scene on top of her. Hermione leaned forward and gave her a sweet kiss before sitting up again, adjusting to the pressure inside of her. She let her hands rest on the veela's chest. The brunette raised her hips until the tip of Fleur's length was just about inside, and then slowly sat back down, moaning at the sensation. It was like she was made for her; she fit so perfectly. Hermione knew this feeling would never get old. The veela's eyes opened wide and she mumbled in a dazed voice, "Oh my fucking God," Her mouth was parted and her back arched a little, neck muscles straining as the brunette continued to ride rhythmically on top of her. She rolled rosy nipples between her fingers and dark blue eyes screwed up shut with a loud moan.

Hands gripped the flesh around her hips, indicating that her lover had woken up a little now. She could feel her body rocking in time beneath her now, crashing them deeper into one another with each movement with more need. Moans and sighs were getting louder. That familiar fire in the brunette's belly was growing in anticipation as her body sang out like a tuning fork with each thrust. She was getting close. She looked into black eyes and saw the same. Hell, she felt it. She could always feel Fleur now, especially when they were connected like this.

Her mate sat up with a growl, arms wrapping around her back as she manipulated the brunette to her own liking impatiently. She wanted it faster. The blonde's hips snapped up in time to meet hers as Fleur directed her up and down her cock in a dizzying tempo. Chest to chest, the veela licked at the mark on her neck and Hermione's fingers dug into her shoulders to steady herself as a jolt of addictive heat ran through her. The depth she was reaching on each pull was bringing her closer now. She was groaning breathlessly, her chin tilted up to give the blonde more access. Her nerves were taught, waiting for that moment; the catalyst, the –

"Fuck, I'm going to—" she cried out as the veela bit down on her neck. Her muscles seized as the tipped over the edge, a white-hot current shooting through her blood. She vaguely heard her mate moaning nonsensically in French over the ringing in her ears. Hermione could feel her shuddering beneath her, hands tightening on her back as her own senses came back to her. The Gryffindor continued to draw everything from her, riding her more slowly now until she couldn't handle the sensitivity anymore and they both stilled.

They stayed entwined like that for a few minutes. Fleur was breathing heavily against her collarbone. The Minister ran her fingers through her silver-blonde hair and rested her cheek to her temple until she caught her own breath. The veela pressed a soft kiss to a scar on her chest and leaned back a little to meet her eyes. Pale blue eyes were somewhere between loopy and playful, and her smile seemed to match.

"Well, good morning to me," Fleur said through a crooked smile that made Hermione's heart flutter.

She giggled a little and leaned down for another kiss, lingering this time as Fleur sighed in contentment.

"Good morning, mon amour," she replied, leaving a trail of kisses across her cheek and up to her forehead.

"That was quite a nice surprise," her mate commented through smiling lips.

Hermione pulled away again and smirked mischievously, "One of many, as promised."

The weekend was full of dates and surprise gifts. Hermione went full stop on making sure everything was expertly planned. She even went so far as asking for help from Apolline and a few friends to ensure everything ran smoothly. They spent Saturday in Paris, visiting a few art museums Fleur mentioned she had not been to yet. They had dinner at a fancy Muggle restaurant and stayed in a hotel with a ridiculous view of the Eiffel Tower. Fleur loved every bit of it, the big romantic. The night ended in a heap of tangled limbs after they attempted to feed each other chocolate-covered strawberries that unfortunately ended up discarded on the floor by morning.

Sunday started off on a very similar note as the previous day, however this time Hermione was the one waking up to a devilish tongue tracing the inside of her thigh. She didn't have much to complain about though–it was only fair, right?

They grabbed breakfast at Fleur's favourite café before they found a floo back to Britain, finally landing at the Minister's townhome. The veela pulled off her coat and hung it in the closet before landing on a heap on their bed.

"I'm beat," she groaned. Hermione grimaced a little, coming to stand in between her legs.

"I have one more surprise," she admitted.

"Another surprise? Do I know this place?" Fleur asked, a patient smile stretching on her face as she sat up. She knew the blonde liked this idea, and it wasn't the first time they had done this. A month or so ago she dragged Hermione around all of Europe in a similar romantic gesture. The Gryffindor knew it could get tiring, but this last one was the most important.

"You might," the Minister answered vaguely, trying to look away from those observant eyes. She pulled off her own coat and checked her pockets again. "Now, no dawdling. Come on," she held her hand out to pull her mate up to her feet.

Blue eyes were still watching her curiously. The brunette took a deep breath as she squeezed her mate's hand, readying them for apparition. Twisting away finally, she heard a sharp inhale beside her when they finally righted themselves. It was warm today being early-June, and she was glad they were both dressed for the weather. Fleur was a light blue blouse she had tucked into black jeans. Hermione was sporting blue jeans and a simple white t-shirt.

She could hear the birds chirping, welcoming them back. The brunette took a deep breath of the clean air. They were surrounding by a hundred different shades of green, proof of a successful spring. It looked unchanged but very different at the same time. It was amazing, really, what the span of a few months could to do. Hermione felt the scenery was a pretty good representation of the two of them; the same, yet completely new. The caves across the small lake were just as she remembered them, but this time there was no one running around on the distant shoreline. It would be silent if not for the sounds of the waterfall roaring below them. It made it hard to hear, but she just caught what her mate said as she looked back to her questioningly.

"Hermione, what are we doing back here?" Fleur asked, her hand tightening slightly in hers.

Hermione reached for her other hand and pulled her around, so they were now facing each other. They were standing right at the end of the cliff, the flowing water next to them flying off the overhang in earnest. She took a deep breath and met blue eyes finally. When she spoke her voice was strong, thankfully.

"This place is special to me for a lot of reasons. It was probably one of the most difficult weeks for both of us, but I don't know how else to pay tribute to what that arduous week has given us in the long-term," her heart was pounding now, "So, Fleur…Firstly, I want to thank you," the blonde tilted her head a little, smiling kindly though her mild confusion, "For giving me another chance, for hearing me. For opening up your heart one more time and letting me in."

Hermione took another deep breath, and Fleur squeezed her hands encouragingly.

"Secondly, I know we are bonded already, but I want to do it all with you. I want to give you everything I have…because that's what you have given me. I want to be everything for you; your mate, your friend, your lover, a—and your wife."

The Gryffindor swallowed, her mouth bone dry as she sunk down to one knee. Fleur's eyes widened in a late moment of clarity when she realised what she was doing. A hand reached into her pocket for the miniature box. The brunette waved a hand over it wordlessly and wandlessly to get back to its original size. She peeled back the lid and looked into bright blue eyes that were filling with tears. A delicate hand covered a small sob as the tears spilled over.

"Fleur Delacour, will you marry me?"

The veela's lips trembled and she nodded her head vigorously as the brunette reached for her left hand. Hermione bit back her own tears, sliding a simple, yet incredible stunning diamond ring onto her finger. The large centre diamond was surrounded in smaller ones, like a ridiculously extravagant flower. It slid past her second knuckle perfectly, as she knew it would. She looked back up, expecting a look of wonder and happiness, but blue eyes had grown nearly black in the span of those five seconds.

Hermione didn't get a verbal answer until twenty minutes later. She was too busy being tackled into the soft grass and assaulted with the mouth and insistent tongue of her now-fiancé. Little did they know that the return of the Veela clan from hunting would interrupt their…passionate moment. Morgan was the first to say something from the middle of the group.

"Well, that explains a lot," she said with a sly grin, her green eyes dancing as they scrambled to correct their partial state of undress.

September 14th finally came around. Exactly one year since Hermione had told Fleur she loved her at that seaside restaurant.

Her knees were shaking. She hated being a Gryffindor sometimes. She was supposed to be brave and courageous, but she was a nervous wreck. It wasn't like she was going into battle or anything and she felt a little silly with how much her heart was pounding, but she couldn't help it. The brunette was trying not to sweat as she fidgeted with the cuff of her dress shirt. She opted for an all-white suit, never having liked the whole dress ordeal. Just then, a pack of magical white doves flew by on timely cue, hooting softly and emitting a soft golden glow over the whole event that lit up against the setting sun.

They really went all out on this thing. Although it wasn't particularly either of their styles to have nearly 300 people at a wedding, it was a necessary evil. Hermione was the Minister; Fleur the Veela clan leader. They had a lot of people they wanted to be there. If it were up to her, they would have done this alone at the top of a mountain somewhere with a handful of guests, but Fleur talked her out of that. It was important not to hide away again.

Such a big wedding was tough to organise in just a few months, but they both wanted it over and done with. If the past seventeen years had taught them anything, it was that waiting for the things you knew were right was just time wasted. So they cracked on quickly, and they left the entire thing with Apolline to plan and organise, both generally too busy and uninterested in the details of the day. Of course, it was in good hands there. A few decisions they had to be consulted on, such as press access, colour schemes, and... cake flavouring, obviously. Only the big decisions.

Luna was here as a guest somewhere, but Hermione had hired the Quibbler as the official wedding insider and photographer. She could see four magical cameras floating around and capturing various moments. One hovered by the altar, waiting. She took another shaky breath as she looked at it warily. Harry was suddenly there again, looking very handsome in his suit and checking his watch. This was another concession that the brunette had won since she didn't have her parents here. She wanted a blend of Muggle and wizarding traditions, and she was certain her dad wouldn't be caught dead in dress robes. She closed her eyes briefly, trying not to think about them again.

Harry could feel something was up, and he rested a hand on her shoulder.

"You okay?" he asked.

She nodded, unable to find her voice. They were underneath an archway covered in an array of beautiful white flowers. She looked out onto the huge lawn of the Delacour estate that was packed with guests, who had filled most of the seats by now. Green eyes were watching her patiently.

"They'd be so proud of you, Mione," he said softly, squeezing her shoulder a little.

The Gryffindor bit her lip to stop it from quivering when she met his eyes. She nodded her head, taking a deep breath again and looking away. She knew this already, but it still hurt. She was just glad they were happy and healthy on the other side of the world. On the other side of the estate was her mate, somewhere. She closed her eyes and felt the frantic buzzing of her veela's hot magic underneath her skin. She was just as nervous. Hermione smiled at that, already feeling better as she thought about her fiancé frantically getting ready. She had a new family now, and Harry was right; her parents would be proud.

The band on the other end of the lawn started playing a different tune and Harry looked at his watch again. They were ready now. The remaining guests took their seats quickly as Harry held an arm out for her to take. She smiled at him, trying to flatten his hair one more time to no avail before taking his arm and gulping down one more deep breath. Head held high, she walked with him down the ridiculously long aisle to whatever the band was playing. She couldn't hear it anyway; her heart was pounding in her ears so loud. She grinned as they passed her jovial guests, but the real smile really shone when she saw her friends.

Caden and Dominique gave her a small wink, the latter already dabbing at his eyes. Malfoy gave her a friendly nod and put his arm around Astoria when she passed. Neville and Luna were smiling serenely at her in a way that always managed to give her some calmness. Ron was bright red, wiping his eyes and giving her a brotherly smile as the rest of his family grinned behind him. Molly was shaking she was weeping so much already. Ginny was crying silently and holding a sleeping Lily against her chest, dressed in a beautiful blue dress that matched her eyes. She had the proudest look on her face.

Hermione smiled at her family, trying not to fall apart. These people got her where she was today; she didn't know how she could ever thank them enough. They finally made it to the altar, and Harry gave her a kiss on the cheek before standing beside her as best man. The Gryffindor couldn't focus on the guests anymore. Gabrielle was walking down the aisle in a stunning light blue dress with an ornate bouquet. Hermione knew she knew she'd see her any moment now. The youngest Delacour gave her a warm smile. She tried to give her one back, but it probably looked like she was constipated. The music changed again.

Oh God, Oh God, Oh God.

Hermione's heart was in her throat and her stomach was in her arse. She was unable to locate her brain at the moment. Why was she so nervous? I'm already claimed and mated with the woman, for crying out loud! This is a formality!

And then she saw her.

"Holy… mother… of…. Morgana…." Hermione whispered reverently.

She could tell the guests were in awe with her as her fiancé walked the aisle with Phillipe, who held her proudly on his arm. A hush fell over the crowd as jaws dropped and cheeks reddened.

Now, Hermione had been to Fleur's first wedding, mind you. She had seen this all before, right? What was so different?

The woman walking down that aisle was a deity. She had always been a goddess, let's be clear, but Hermione felt her tears falling when she looked at her now. It was for her this time. She was ethereal. Divine. Her long strapless dress glimmered with small jewels in the soft sun. The neckline was an elegant swoop that didn't draw too much attention to her magnificent shape, but the back of her dress plunged dramatically in a manner than made Hermione's mouth water. Her hair was up in beautiful, intricate braids, a few wisps framing her striking face. The smoky makeup around her bright blue eyes made them look impossibly bright and dangerous, but those eyes were only looking at her. She was hers and this time it would be theirs, finally.

Fleur reached the altar, and up close it was even worse. She could hardly look at her, it was too much. Hermione's heart hurt. She looked so beautiful.

"You look…" she couldn't finish the sentence, her gaze roaming over her in wonder. Her throat felt tight and her eyes were wide. She knew she looked like an idiot.

The veela's own eyes looked a little bright as well, but she reached for the brunette's hand and squeezed reassuringly.

"You do too, mon amour," she whispered, giving her a teary smile and dabbing at the corner of her eyes with her free hand.

The officiant cleared his throat, and the two scrambled gracefully to their positions. Bill subtly wiped his eyes with a handkerchief before tucking it back into his impeccable navy suit. He pulled his wand out and cast a wordless sonorous charm on his throat.

He spoke clearly with no trace of nervousness, "Friends, family, and distinguished guests, welcome. Today, we are here to celebrate and commit the legal union of one Fleur Isabelle Delacour and Hermione Jean Granger," he left a meaningful pause.

"Magic is an amazing feat; an amazing gift, but it is nothing compared to that of love. Love holds everything together; animals, creatures, and humans alike. It doesn't matter the source, or the quantity—love can be found everywhere, and that is why it prevails, time after time. For us, it brings deeper connections; more profound importance to the good and the bad in all of our lives. Fleur and Hermione have a love like that. One that is, perhaps, more complicated than any of us know, but at its most simple definition it is meaning. They have found meaning in one another, and I truly couldn't be happier for them," his voice broke a little. Fleur was fully crying now, and she met eyes for a moment. She nodded, and he swallowed.

"Fleur," he started again, "I have known you as a friend, boyfriend, and husband, ironically," there were a few gaps in the crowd that made all three of them smile a little more, "You selflessly gave me confidence and companionship during a time when I was at my darkest, and for that, you will always hold a special place in my heart."

The veela wiped her eyes, smiling at Bill as he continued.

"Most people don't know the details of our marriage, as it should be, but I thought it important to note that I always knew you were not mine. You were open and honest with me from the beginning—another testament to your beautiful character. We had love, but, as I always suspected, it was not enough. You were consumed, body and soul, by another since you were seventeen. You used to call it a curse, but I couldn't understand that sentiment. Hermione was perfect for you, with or without your heritage. Hermione Granger is a powerful, unstoppable force, but she is also the most good-natured and compassionate person I have ever met. As your ex-husband, I think you'd be an idiot not to marry her," he chucked, and the guests laughed in unison through happy tears.

Another pause.

"You two have always loved one another, but life can sometimes get in the way of the way things are meant to be," his voice grew shaky with emotion and Hermione ducked her head a little at the memory of Fred. Fleur squeezed her hand again, and she met her blue eyes again, "It's important to seize the good in life things when you can," Bill said, his voice growing stronger again. "No matter the time; no matter the reasons. Fleur and Hermione have done that, and that's what we are here for today. Now is your time, and we are all lucky to be able to bear witness to that."

Hermione couldn't hear the rest, although she knew it was beautiful and poignant. All she could see were bright, shifting eyes of swirling blue that were looking at her like she was the only person in the world. Soon, they were sharing their vows and kissing under the arresting rays of sunset that streaked through the gaps in the trees surrounding the estate. The blonde's thrall wrapped around her like a blanket as she wrapped a hand around her neck to pull her in deeper, unconcerned by their audience. Their ring fingers felt slightly heavier as they kissed in abandon, their guests blushing but cheering avidly. Bill got his handkerchief out again.

The reception was an absolute disaster of a party. In a good way, of course. Have you ever seen Minerva McGonagall drunk? I didn't think so, but that woman hands some shifty hands, ye be warned. The Weasley's were all completely obliterated by the early morning hours, having taken full advantage of the efficient cocktail service. Molly and Arthur had taken over babysitting duties and brought all the kids back to the Burrow at a reasonable time, leaving Harry and Ginny to let loose and stay out until the party finished. Hermione wasn't sure it would finish. Perhaps it was the French, or the Veela, but these women knew how to celebrate.

The dancefloor was still packed with sweaty, moving bodies under the floating lights. Hermione could see Malfoy bobbing his head is an unusual display of frivolity. Luna and Neville were doing some sort of two-person congo line. Ron was dancing merrily with one of Fleur's cousins and surprisingly wasn't a deep shade of purple in her close proximity. Hermione could only see the backs of Harry and Ginny as they ran away from the celebration to find a secluded corner, no doubt.

Her feet were killing her. She had no idea how her fiancé—no, wife—was doing it in her heels. She was a little unsteady on her feet by now, it must have been close to 2am and she had consumed far too much alcohol. At this point she just wanted to take her wife, she thought again with a smile, up to bed. She weaved in and out of people until she spotted her, like a beacon in white.

Hours later and she still looked immaculate. Hermione had no idea what she looked like, but she knew it was nowhere near as put together at Fleur, who's makeup hadn't even smudged the slightest and hair was still held together perfectly. She was talking to an elder Veela woman and holding a champagne glass, her new ring sparkling in the low venue lighting. Hermione went up and rested her hand on her lower back.

"I am sorry to interrupt, Madame Brancillon, but may I steal my wife from you?" the brunette asked the elder Veela, who had a knowing glint in her eyes.

"But of course! I am sorry for keeping her from you. Have fun," she said with a wink as she grabbed her drink and moved over to where Adele and Apolline were seated.

Fleur was already wrapping her arms around her, taking a long inhale in the crook of her neck. Hermione felt a small nip at her skin and even in her exhaustion, she felt her body reacting. Yep, time to go.

Evidently, the veela shared her feelings, for she murmured against her jawline, "I believe it is time for you to take me home, Mrs Delacour-Granger."

"Mmmm, I will have to get used to how that sounds, Madame Delacour-Granger," Hermione muttered lowly, smiling when she felt a breath tickling her ear.

Fleur gave her one of those looks that made her feel like her shoes were melting into the ground. Her burning magic could be felt growing hotter under the brunette's skin as arms wrapped around her neck, "Well, mon amour, it's a good thing we have time, then."

Fin.

I have ONE more post planned (an epilogue), but as for the main story, we end our romance here. I hope I got you all home safe and sound after taking you down such a winding road. As always, thank you so much for reading.

Psych x