Chapter 9 - Rhythm
Fleur felt the sudden pull of her connection with Hermione, and in a flare of panic, she strode back out of the mansion. The other Veela were in the living room, sitting on the sofa and drinking small cups of coffee. The four noticed Fleur leave in rapid steps, and Apolline was the first to react. With a protective maternal instinct, she stood up and followed Fleur.
When Fleur came out the door, she walked for a few meters when she spotted a magically obscured figure standing a step away from a fallen Hermione, with a wand pointed down at the woman. She descended into a blind panic, registering the fact that her soulmate was lying a few feet beyond the newly created magical barrier. Some part of her had thought that the brunette would have been just fine, since the wards would've protected Hermione, especially considering that the Gryffindor herself was alarmed by a likely internal betrayal. She did not expect the young woman to be outside the protections that she herself created.
Hermione was on the ground, her blood flowing steadily upward, lifted by magic. The blood was a bright red, but emanated an unnatural glow, and the figure gestured with their wand so the liquid was compressed into a sphere. Fleur drew her own wand and released a silent Stupefy, but the hooded figure just flicked the spell away and started to retreat. Fleur, realizing that her mother was right behind her, began to run after the figure.
"Maman!" Apolline shouted from the outside door after seeing what was happening, the Veela's desperation so intense that Sybelle rushed much more ably than one would expect from a lady of her age, and ran to her daughter.
Meanwhile, the figure magically flung a large stone at Fleur, who barely had time to dodge. When she scrambled back onto her feet, the figure had disappeared into the forest. Fleur wrestled with the urge to hunt down the perpetrator immediately and eviscerate them, but looked back over her shoulder to see that Sybelle, Lira and Apolline were all worriedly hovering over her injured soulmate. Her and Gabby's eyes met, and the younger Veela frantically waved Fleur over.
"Fleur, I need to apparate Hermione to Jeanne D'Arc Hospital. Stay with your mother," Apolline ordered. She pulled the brunette's body towards her, and in a snap she was gone. Fleur looked back helplessly at Lira, who was impressively calm. The older woman held out her hand and Fleur grabbed it, and Gabby did the same with Sybelle's hand. In a millisecond they too were in front of the French magical hospital.
The Sainte Jeanne D'Arc Hospital was a magical institution as respected as St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies, and it was a robust and square building, with ancient Gothic architecture. The Veela came through the main door and immediately looked for signs of Apolline or Hermione.
"We are looking for Hermione Granger," Sybelle announced to the person at the reception desk.
"Madame Delacour, I cannot just disclose medical information about a patient," The woman began politely, but paled at the look she received from all the Veela present.
"I want information about my mate," Fleur demanded with a glare, her blue eyes darkened with anger. The woman opened her mouth, but no sound came out. A moment later, a door next to the reception area opened, and Apolline in blood-soaked clothes and unkempt hair emerged with shaky steps. Lira hurried over and grabbed her wife's arms.
"Hermione she..." Lira started, and gasped in horror.
"The medi-wizards are with her now. It's bad; she lost a lot of blood, a few moments more and she wouldn't have survived," Apolline revealed brokenly, and Fleur, though frozen, felt Gabby tugging at her, and finally noticed that she was in tears.
The women collapsed into chairs in the waiting room, sitting restlessly for hours and hours, until the sun had risen again. It was dawn when a worn-out healer finally approached.
"Hermione Granger's companions?" He inquired, and moved closer the moment the Delacour family stood.
"How is she, doctor?" Sybelle asked quickly, being the most composed of the group.
"Madame Delacour, Mademoiselle Granger's wounds were extensive and embedded with curses. However, with a lot of effort, we managed to break the curses and finally close the cuts. She needed a muggle-technique blood transplant so we could handle the injuries; in fact she needed almost six liters of blood in total, as she was constantly losing blood. She was also petrified, which we have not yet treated."
"What? Why?" Gabby exclaimed, being the hot-head she was, and interrupted the doctor.
"Mademoiselle Delacour, Mademoiselle Granger is in terrible pain. The muscle spasms resulting from the curses would open the lesions again, so believe me, being petrified at this very moment is a blessing. She has been given potions for pain and for replenishing blood. However…" The medi-wizard cleared his throat and continued. "She needs to stay up at night. In a few hours, the threat of muscle spasms will pass and then we will administer the Mandrake potion. Until nighttime, she must remain awake, but she will be able to finish her recovery at home. She may have a companion." Fleur took a step forward. "All right, wait a few more minutes. If you could bring her clothes, that would be helpful." Gabby and Fleur looked at each other, and the youngest nodded.
"I'll be back as soon as possible," Gabby said, and dashed out the hospital doors. Report delivered, the doctor started to walk away and gave some instructions to the woman at reception.
"Fleur, we will start an investigation. I will alert people we can trust, and take an unbreakable vow Whoever did this, on our land and against one of our own, whoever they are, will pay dearly," Sybelle promised, with a spiteful and vindictive tone in her voice. Fleur had never seen her grandmother like this, much less her mothers, as austere as they were. Not even during the war had her grandmother had sounded like that. With a short wave from Fleur, Sybelle departed. Apolline and Lira stayed until Gabby returned with a backpack in her hands.
"Here, I'm going to London right away. I need to warn Harry, Ginny, Luna and Minerva. Since Morgan lives in Paris, and has Hermione on one of her own clocks, she probably already knows that something has gone wrong. But I need to contact her just the same. I will go to her house and then I will proceed to London. Call me if there is any, I repeat any, change in the situation." Fleur nodded, and Gabby pulled her into a tight hug. "She'll be fine."
Lira and Apolline followed soon after, when Sybelle's patronus hawk appeared, demanding the presence of the two women for the investigation.
"All hands on the deck, my beloved Fleur," Lira said gently, and pulled her older daughter into a hug. "Hermione is resilient, and she'll recover very quickly. Just stay with her, okay?" Fleur nodded, tears in her eyes.
"Don't cry anymore, Fleur. Hermione needs you strong. Delacours cry after the danger passes, not before or during. Remain steadfast and transfer your magic to her magical core, this will speed up the healing process. Veela magic works with emotions, the stronger the emotion, the stronger the magic. Remember that," Apolline told her, and also hugged her daughter. "Love her and she will know that you are there." The older veela said softly, and kissed Fleur's forehead. With a wave of goodbye, the two mothers also left the hospital.
HGFDHGFDHGFDHGFD
It took some time for the healers to finally call Fleur. She came in with the small backpack Gabby had packed in her hands. The veela stifled her nervousness, and took a firm step forward, as she followed the nurse who guided her in silence.
The prevalence of the hospital antiseptic was stinging Fleur's nose, and she knew that even magic hospitals used cleaning techniques learned from muggles. And that was not a bad thing, with the lack of magic, muggles have adapted to a lot, especially in dealing with germs. And magical medicine, unlike other areas, did not see this as a problem, and they learned and evolved along with muggle medicine. In fact, many medi-wizards practicing today were both magical and muggle doctors.
The nurse stopped in front of one of the rooms in the hospital ward. She reached out to open the door, and when Fleur stepped forward she suddenly put a hand on Fleur's shoulder.
"Just be aware mademoiselle, she is not in good shape, but it is very possible that she is semi-alert or conscious at some level. Try to measure your reactions to her physical condition, as we don't want to cause psychological damage as well, and she is already frightened by the situation." Fleur pursed her lips and nodded irritably. She was ready to see "the situation." Or so she thought.
No, Fleur was not prepared to see her mate like this. Hermione was lying on her side, with pillows supporting her body to keep her in position. Her back was exposed in the hospital gown, and was visibly bandaged, though the dressings had darkened with clotted blood. She swallowed, and moved to the brunette's other side. Hermione's eyes were closed, but her expression was furrowed and scared. Fleur touched Hermione's hand lightly, suppressing her tears, and concentrated to keep her voice steady and calm.
"Hello, ma lionne, I am very happy to see you again. I missed you. I know you are not able to answer yet, but soon you will be able to open your eyes, and I promise that the first person you will see will be me. We are in a hospital, for there was an accident, but everything will be fine." Fleur felt thick tears streaming down her face. She was terrified, and at that moment the nurse's warning made the most sense, and Fleur was grateful for the caveat.
The hours passed excruciatingly slow. Nurses came and turned Hermione to her other side, administered medications, and at one point the medi-wizard on duty made some notes and assessments, then Hermione received yet another blood transfusion bag. It was another early morning when the nurse woke Fleur up.
"Mademoiselle, we are going to start administering the mandrake potion. She can come out of petrification at any time, so try to watch for any signs." Fleur nodded. She had talked for hours and hours with Hermione, while slowly infusing her magic through the hand she had been holding since she entered the room. "That is your breakfast." She pointed to a small bag with a coffee and a wrapped item. She gratefully opened it, and in the package was some sliced fruit and a small croissant.
Fleur was nervous about treating the petrification, as that would probably mean that Hermione would feel the pain from her injuries. Although the last change of bandages showed that they were all tightly closed, it was possible the brunette would be scarred and that made Fleur even more sad. The French woman felt Hermione's magic reach out to hers with a light caress, and the blonde smiled when she saw that slowly the brunette's body was relaxing and though even in pain, Hermione looked better.
It was still hours before her brown eyes opened, and the first thing Hermione saw was Fleur's head resting next to her hand, the same hand that the blonde had been holding since the beginning of her vigil. She remembered the pain and the despair that the veela broadcast, but she didn't know much more. The pain was dulled, dampened by spells and potions, but it was still there. But what suppressed the pain the most was Fleur's magic flowing constantly through her. It made her smile. Hermione concentrated and tried to speak, but at first nothing came out.
"Fleur..." The tone was low, and the brunette feared she wasn't heard, but it was a foolish fear. Hearing her name, even asleep, Fleur raised her head quickly.
"Oh Hermione!" The blonde leaned in with speed, but hesitated to touch the Gryffindor. But Hermione wouldn't let her, she closed the distance slowly, still in pain, and kissed Fleur lightly on the lips. It was a gentle, chaste kiss that held so much meaning.
"Tell me what happened?" She asked, and Fleur sighed deeply, sitting down again and grabbing the woman's hand. She began to narrate the events of the previous night and explained the consequences of it to Hermione and the clan.
"Does this mean that I incited an internal investigation into the clan that could jeopardize your grandmother's and mother's re-election?"
"No, that means that someone, a Veela, attacked you in Veela lands and that is considered a very serious crime." The blonde replied seriously. "It should never have happened. Never. It is an inexcusable crime to attack a fellow Veela like that."
"Fellow Veela?"
"You are my mate….To be." Fleur said. "In the eyes of the clan, you are now as much a Veela as any of us." Fleur kissed Hermine's forehead when she saw that the brunette was struggling to stay awake. "Sleep now, mon amour. I will wake you up if something spectacular happens." Hermione rolled her eyes and then allowed herself to relax.
HGFDHGFDHGFDHGFD
Hermione woke up to hushed voices speaking around her. She identified the voices of Harry, Ginny and Fleur. With an effort, the brunette opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was the grayish green eyes in front of her. The woman was fiery-haired, with a single white streak in the center-right line of her head. She was wearing a black velvet dress and when a red eyebrow arched in question, Hermione felt the woman's magic touching hers curiously.
"Morgan, stop it," Hermione's sleepy voice made everyone stop their conversation, and the redhead smiled slightly.
"I thought you were going to die on French soil, Hermione," The woman stated, her accent was soft, and Morgan spoke slowly with certainty of her words.
"I will not die so easily, not in French lands, Mistress," Hermione replied, rolled her eyes, and felt a slight twinge in her head. Morgan walked over and placed her hand on Hermione's head. Healing energy immediately migrated from Morgan to Hermione, though the older woman was frowning in concern.
"Let me see," Morgan bid lightly, but Hermione understood her meaning. The Gryffindor opened her magic channels, allowing Morgan's magic to travel throughout her body to her magical core. "Despite the efforts of your Veela, there is still a small break here, so I will close it." While feeling Fleur's magic was like a river flowing slowly throughout her body, Morgan's magic was like a sea of lava that didn't burn. Though it was hot almost to the point of unbearable, it also forced Hermione's aching body to relax. It was like a deep massage, forcing her limbs to loosen up. When Morgan withdrew her magic, the brunette felt much better than when she woke up. "Now only the physical part of your body is left to finish your recovery." Morgan leaned down and kissed Hermione's cheek lightly. "I will retire now, my daughter. If you need me, your magic will always know how to find me." Hermione nodded and with a twist of her heels, Morgan left Hermione's room.
"She's intense, isn't she?" Harry spoke, looking at where the older woman vanished.
Harry, Ginny and Luna did not stay long, though they talked to Hermione for several minutes, expressing affection and concern for the brunette. But in a short time the nurse dismissed them. Fleur had promised that as soon as she could, Hermione would travel back to London to catch up with her closest friends. With a light hug and several kisses on the head, the three friends left, leaving Fleur and Hermione alone.
A few hours later, Hermione was released to finish her recovery at the Delacour mansion. Since there was a medi-witch available in the village, the doctors at the hospital accepted the transfer without much resistance. Fleur used a portkey which would make the transition from one place to another lighter. Even so, when they returned, Hermione felt nauseated and threw up ungracefully in the middle of the mansion's living room.
Lira, who was in the kitchen, heard the commotion of the witches' arrival and approached in slow steps, and with a towel she helped Hermione to clean herself off.
"Sorry about the rug," The brunette said hoarsely, gasping with the pain the retching caused.
"Nothing that magic can't solve. I raised two Veela girls in this house and she survived." Fleur, who heard her mother's exchange with Hermione, just waved her wand and vanished the vomit from the carpet.
"Come on ma lionne, we're going to give you a bath and put you to bed. You need to eat something and drink your potions." Fleur ordered, and put an arm around Hermione's waist and guided her in slow steps up the stairs.
Fleur washed Hermione's hair carefully, for even with cleansing spells, nothing was better for the Gryffindor's hair than muggle care. Hermione was lying in the bathtub comfortably while Fleur ran her fingers over her scalp.
The two talked quietly, about everything and nothing during the bath. Fleur slowly rubbed a foamy, scented sponge over Hermione's skin. It was almost like a worship ritual. They told each other stories. Like when Fleur climbed up a tree when she was a little girl to escape from a bath, and ended up hitting her mouth against a branch. A very angry Apolline had to fix the tooth that had broken. Or when Hermione got lost in a muggle zoo, and sat under a table for two hours reading, while her parents (and the police) frantically looked for the girl in desperation. They told each other about their first pet, and for Hermione it was a small Brazilian Terrier, a faithful and friendly animal which Hermione named Spotted, because he was white and with brown spots. For Fleur, her first pet was a small goldfish, which she simply named Poisson, for lack of imagination.
The bath was long, and Hermione felt relaxed when the blonde helped her out of the water and placed a robe on Hermione's shoulders. With the greatest care, the Veela then helped her to dress. The outfit itself was not very dramatic or special. Just a t-shirt, panties and shorts. Fleur left the Gryffindor wrapped in warm blankets while she took a quick shower. Before long, the blonde finished, got dressed, kissed Hermione lightly on the lips and went downstairs to get some things for the young woman to eat. The house was quiet, and Galan had left a fresh bowl of food on the kitchen table. Fleur grabbed a tray and the set of potions that Hermione would need to take and went back upstairs. Galan had prepared some toast, fruit and tea for Hermione. When the brunette saw all that, and especially with Fleur's long standing loving and careful attention, she felt an intense desire to cry.
"Thank you for taking care of me." Fleur smiled and kissed Hermione's forehead. Hermione still couldn't quite express how much it meant to her, and even the attempt to speak a few sweet words seemed so difficult. She wanted to demonstrate how much she loved this woman, but in her overactive mind, she considered that it was still early. But she knew that she never loved or will love anyone as she loves Fleur.
"I love you." The statement was short, firm, and so sure of every word that Hermione felt her eyes widen and her heart race. Fleur had spoken in English, so that the phrase was in no way confused with any other. She loved Hermione with all her heart and without a doubt. They looked at each other for a few moments, and Fleur did not hesitate for a second longer, leaning in and placing a soft kiss on Hermione's lips. The brunette's expression relaxed, and she smiled affectionately.
"I love you too," she responded tenderly.