Chapter 8

Hermione sat nervously inside the café waiting for Fleur to arrive, watching the condensation collect on the two glasses of ice water the waiter had brought to her table. Yesterday had been such a flurry of excitement that it was only now that she had a moment to breathe. The news of her engagement was spreading fast amongst the Weasleys and she had made them swear not to tell Bill so that she could be the first to tell her friend.

"'Ermione!" called out Fleur. Hermione turned and saw the blonde rushing through the café. Once she reached the table, she spoke again. "I'm so sorry I'm late. You would not believe the workload that 'as fallen on my desk. Philips quit suddenly and Bill and I 'ave no choice but to pick up the slack."

The bookworm listened happily as her friend rambled on about work, removing her coat and scarf as she did so. Then Fleur settled into the seat across from her.

After their lunches had been ordered, Hermione bit her lip, unsure how to start.

"All right, tell me."

"What?" asked Hermione with feigned innocence.

Fleur laughed, a tinkling sound that never failed to send shivers down Hermione's spine.

"Whatever it is that's on that lovely mind of yours, mon amie. It's on the tip of your tongue, I can see it."

"Ron proposed," Hermione exclaimed. She cringed slightly. She'd meant to build up to it, not blurt it out like that, but still she smiled, waiting to see Fleur's excited reaction.

The Veela blinked slowly and murmured, "I'm sorry, what?"

"Ron proposed! Look!"

Hermione held out her left hand and she watched Fleur's eyes settle like an anvil on the ring Ron had given her.

The smile on her face slowly slipped as she registered the stunned expression on her friend's face. She pulled her hand away and waited for a response.

"That's…" Fleur started, then swallowed hard. "That's wonderful news. Bill and I 'ad wondered when Ronald would finally work up 'is nerve."

Fleur sipped her water and Hermione could tell something was off. It took a few seconds for her to figure it out. The thrall. It was gone. Normally it was a warmth that was so quintessentially Fleur, Hermione welcomed it every time they were together. It was just always there so its absence now was jarring. Glancing at her friend, she saw the slight furrow in her brow, the stiffness in her countenance, like she was concentrating.

The Veela was hiding her thrall from her.

Her friend hadn't done this since early on in their friendship when they were still getting to know one another, still learning how to open up and be comfortable in each other's presence. Hermione noted that Fleur was getting better at hiding the effort it took to suppress her thrall.

"It is wonderful, isn't it, Fleur?" Hermione inquired cautiously.

"Of course, 'Ermione. Marriage is the ultimate commitment, a promise that means forever, only to be made when you are absolutely certain that you will never want it to end. You two 'ave been through so much, your love 'as endured so much, you deserve this 'appiness. And I'm 'appy for you."

There was a strange look on Fleur's face as she spoke and Hermione was reminded of a long-ago conversation they'd had about the blonde's first boyfriend, how she'd cheated on him, and how strictly she viewed honor and keeping one's word afterwards. Hermione had teased her back then about the view not leaving much room for human frailty and forgiving one's mistakes but here again was the same rigidity and seriousness. She didn't need a lecture; she fully understood what she was agreeing to by accepting Ron's proposal.

Choosing to focus on Fleur's last words instead of delving into her friend's odd behavior, Hermione smiled and launched into the story of how Ron had asked and then jumped into discussing possible wedding dates. Her friend smiled and nodded and asked questions but it never reached the comfort level they always had in their get-togethers. Not once did Fleur yield in her control over her thrall.

At the end of lunch, they hugged each other tightly, almost too tightly. Hermione felt a question begin to form but Fleur was in a hurry and she decided whatever was bothering her could wait until their next lunch date.

Hermione hurried down the hallway, looking for the ice machine and tapping out a quick message to Ginny to call her. It was tempting to leave. To just leave Fleur and all of this confusion behind.

Finding the ice machine, Hermione took a moment to catch her breath. She became aggravated by the lack of immediate response from Ginny. She sent another message.

[Hermione] Ginevra Potter if you don't call me right now I will track you down wherever you are and create a howler right in front of your face!

Her mobile started ringing and she quickly answered.

"Hermione, I can't talk long. Party at the Burrow. So, are you and Fleur working it all out?"

Hermione's mouth fell open. She hadn't expected Ginny to name Fleur right away or sound so smug. She thought there would be some waffling and excuses. And 'working it out'? What?

Finding her words, the bookworm launched into an angry tirade. "You have a lot of nerve hiring Fleur Delacour without first consulting me. I spoke to you and gave you those preferences in strictest confidence, not for you to use your knowledge of her escort job for some misguided attempt to satisfy whatever it is you thought I wanted. I told you what I wanted and it wasn't this."

"Wait, I'm sorry, what?"

Hermione ignored how Ginny's surprise made the hairs rise on the back of her neck. She was too angry to really think about why her friend was surprised like that.

"You heard me, Ginny. This is completely unacceptable. Does Harry know?"

"No, he doesn't know. I promised not to tell, remember? Only who I needed to in order to make this happen."

The brunette growled, hating how she had let that particular loophole slide.

"Like you kept your promise to her to not tell me she was back in town?" Hermione accused. "Guess I know where our friendship stands."

"You know what? It's not easy being friends with you two idiots. The bloody two of you… you with your feelings and her with… ugh, hang on."

There was silence for several seconds and then Ginny came back. "You're an idiot, Granger."

"You already said that… wait, who else are you talking to?"

"Burrow, remember? You're not the only idiot I have to yell at tonight."

"Some friend you are. You knew how nervous I was about this. And now I'm hiding out in the hallway and she's in my room right now and I don't know what to do about it… Ginny… are you even there?"

There was a longer silence and Hermione started pacing as she waited for Ginny to return.

"Hello? Look, I'm sorry. I thought since you were obviously talking about Fleur that this would be okay."

"Well it's not! It's worse. You don't know, Ginny. You don't know what I went through." Hermione squeezed her eyes shut.

She was put on hold again but Hermione was glad for it. Memories and heartache washed over her and she distracted herself by emptying the bucket's melted contents and then filling it with ice. How was she going to handle going back to her room? She didn't know but she slowly began walking back down the hallway.

"Hermione?"

"Yeah?" she responded, walking even slower, holding the phone tightly to her ear as if everything her friend had to say would help her with her decision.

"Right, so the way I see it is you have two choices. Get it all off your chest or shut up and forever hold your peace."

"It's not a wedding."

"When else are you going to get this chance, Hermione?" Ginny scolded. "I don't know everything that happened but I do think she did a shitty thing by shutting you out, and I know you needed to tell her how you felt but you didn't get to. You two need to talk. And once it's all out in the open, then you two should definitely fuck."

There was a pregnant pause and then they both laughed at the brazen advice the redhead had just given. As the laughter faded, Hermione came to a stop in front of her hotel room door. She thought of Fleur's last attempt at bringing up their fallout and how easily she had thwarted it with a few choice words. If Fleur really wanted to get into it, the woman would've pushed harder.

"She doesn't want to talk. Not really," Hermione admitted quietly.

"Yes, she does." The reply was quick and assured. A little too assured.

"What do you mean? What do you know?"

Again, the hairs rose on the back of her neck. She looked at the dark brown door in front of her, her stomach flipping at the thought of Fleur waiting for her on the other side. Ginny didn't mean…

"You'll figure it out, don't let her get away with it, all right? Tell her how you feel. You'll regret it otherwise. You'll regret it forever."

The line disconnected before she could interrogate Ginny about her cryptic phrasing. What did she mean? Figure what out? Not let Fleur get away with what?

Hermione took steady breaths, pushing away her frustration to focus on what she knew so far.

Ginny knew more than what she could reveal, probably a promise she had to keep. Ginny and Fleur arranged this so it stood to reason that it was a promise to Fleur. Fleur was an escort but didn't seem forthcoming with details specific to her job. She was actively hiding something, Hermione could sense it through her thrall, and it was more than just hiding feelings. Don't let her get away with it. Ginny was hinting at something; she said Fleur wanted to talk. The redhead also sounded surprised at what she'd said at the beginning of the call.

Was this a joke after all? If it was it was a very bad one considering how far Fleur had taken it.

What if she's not a… Ridiculous. Fleur wouldn't pretend something like that.

But what if she did? Oh Merlin, what if she did?

Gripping the bucket under her arm, the phone in that hand and her room key in the other, she slipped the key in the lock and entered the room. She saw Fleur over by the coffee table and those blue eyes were watching her intently as she crossed the room to the table where the food was and set the ice bucket down. A beat later and she put her phone and room key next to the bucket.

"I thought maybe you 'ad changed your mind," Fleur said.

"No. I just wanted ice. Have you changed your mind?" Hermione kept a neutral expression, not wanting to show how much Fleur's answer meant to her, but she couldn't take her eyes off the Veela. The thrall was gone again. Fleur was hiding from her. There could be many reasons for it but only one rang true given what Ginny had let slip.

"Non. I still want this if you do."

"Okay. Now that that's out of the way, I just have some clarifying questions about this transaction."

There. Was that a flinch? Why a flinch if this was her job? It's a flinch because this is all a lie!

"Ask away."

Fleur looked so unflappable and, as if to prove she was unbothered by Hermione's demeanor, she sat down on the couch. Hermione couldn't help a slight eyeroll. If Fleur was so unbothered, she wouldn't be hiding her thrall right now and that fact spoke volumes. But Hermione didn't say anything. She slipped off her shoes, moved to the stereo to turn it off, then walked towards the door to wandlessly reinforce the silencing wards. When that was done she turned around and nearly chose to go sit next to Fleur but in the end decided to remain standing and walked to the food. After eating a few grapes and a bite of cheese, she turned to face Fleur and cocked her head.

"Is there anything you won't do?"

Fleur smirked. "Several things. Anything specific in mind?"

Hermione resisted the urge to huff and quickly threw away that line of questioning. It obviously wasn't the right tactic to throw the blonde off balance and she realized she would be the ruffled one if she had to guess which acts were out of Fleur's comfort zone.

"My understanding is that you've been paid for the full night?"

"I will stay for the full night."

"If I wanted… to continue things into the morning… would that be more? And if so, should I arrange for payment now or tomorrow?"

"Just tell Ginny, she'll know what to do."

Hermione pursed her lips at the mention of Ginny as their go-between but she paid more attention to the semantics of Fleur's answers. Fleur had carefully worded her replies to avoid a direct lie, but they were still enough to support the deception, and this coupled with the suppressed thrall had been exactly what she was looking for.

Fleur is not an escort.

Looking around the suite, this suite she had selected for the purpose of having sex with an escort, Hermione wanted to laugh at the situation she found herself in. She should just confront Fleur. She should ask for the truth, yell at her for breaking her heart, then kick her out of the room and never speak to her again. Crossing over to the bed, she pulled back the blankets and moved to sit down on the foot of the bed.

"Should we get started then?" Hermione asked, her tone a challenge. The cacophony from the arguments in her mind threatened to cause a headache but she managed to focus on one thing: knowing that Fleur was lying about this didn't stop her from wanting to see how far the Veela would take the lie. Could Fleur really go through with this?

Can I?

Hermione told herself going along with it had nothing to do with wanting to kiss her again, or feel Fleur's desire for her, or pretend that that desire was love.

She told herself this but she also knew there was more than one liar in the room.

Fleur stood up from the couch and took a few steps towards the bed then stopped.

"I should tell you something first and maybe you already know, but given what you said earlier about keeping emotions out of it, I would be remiss if I didn't say that although I am able to control my thrall in most situations nowadays, I am unable to do so when things get 'eated. Ordinarily this would be nothing but we both know you feel it differently. You already felt it in our kisses, oui?"

"Yes." Hermione blinked and felt her muscles relax at the honesty in the blonde's words.

"It will be more while we –"

"I see," Hermione interrupted, maintaining eye contact and fighting the heat rising up her neck. "Did you ask your healer why I can feel you the way I do?"

"No. It is known some non-Veela 'ave that ability. I never told you but it is… an extremely rare thing. I will ask about something else, though, when I next visit France."

"And what would that be?"

"Your aura."

At this, Hermione blushed, embarrassed at the direction this conversation had taken. She had wanted to put Fleur on the spot and the blonde had turned it around on her.

"I never thought I would see it, for obvious reasons, but you never said it could 'appen during a kiss."

"It never has before," muttered Hermione.

Fleur straightened slightly and one corner of her mouth twitched. No one else would have noticed but Hermione did, and the preening she saw irritated her.

"And 'as anyone ever seen it?"

Hermione felt the red burn across her skin, her breaths now erratic. She didn't like that Fleur had guessed this. It was bad enough that she had admitted as much to Ginny. Instead of speaking, the brunette shook her head and stared at the floor. Feeling the dip in the mattress, she avoided looking at the woman next to her but the blonde still reached for her hand and held it firmly.

"We both know that those most in tune with their magic can sense the power in others. We've both experienced that around magical beings and objects. It is not unusual. But I 'ave never felt it the way I did when I kissed you. You always felt different. Even early on in our acquaintance at Shell Cottage, my thrall clung to you in ways it's never done with anyone else."

"Fleur…" Having Fleur's hand in hers, hearing her admit things she'd long suspected, a lump grew in her throat and she didn't know what to say. This sounded more like her Fleur, the one she desperately missed, and feeling her hand in hers was making her greedy for more.

"In that first kiss, I felt your magic pull me towards you. I felt it opening to me. I think my thrall joined with your magic, 'Ermione. I felt such colors. And I could almost sense what you were feeling. I know you are attracted to me. As I am to you."

She turned to look at her former friend. Her piercing blue eyes darted down to her lap; her teeth were worrying her lower lip. Not only had she sounded like her Fleur but now she looked like her, too. Hermione squeezed Fleur's hand, appreciating the vulnerability and honesty being shown to her finally.

"I did feel it. Your thrall has always been something that surrounds me. But kissing you that first time, I felt like it was a part of me. Inside me. I felt you giving in, like you had more to show me. That's partly why I stopped it. It was… overwhelming."

"It'll be like that when we make love, 'Ermione. The thrall is stronger when I…" Fleur cleared her throat, lifted her chin to face Hermione once again and whispered, "I 'ave never known or slept with anyone who feels it as you do. And given what we felt with just a kiss, I expect it'll be even more intense. Nothing will be 'idden."

It was a warning; Fleur was giving her an out if she found the prospect of being completely exposed with one another to be too much. But Hermione also heard another implication, saw the hope in those blue eyes. It was more proof that there was more going on than this escort charade. And the way she'd said 'make love' instead of sex. That wasn't what this was supposed to be, but Fleur had firmly said it with purpose and not as a throwaway.

Her heart squeezed in her chest. Nothing will be hidden. What was Fleur telling her? Did Fleur know she knew?

"I know," Hermione replied, her eyes likely giving away the extra meaning in her words.

"And you still want this?"

More than anything. "It's what I'm paying for, isn't it?"

She didn't have to rub salt in the wound that Fleur had willingly opened but Hermione wouldn't let her forget that being honest about one thing didn't make up for the lie that was still being told. It served as Hermione's reminder as well.

Fleur smiled ruefully, accepting the bookworm's consent for what it was. There was a tightness around the eyes, a searching, but Hermione could tell the blonde was looking within herself and not really at her. She marked the time by counting Fleur's breaths, letting her eyes fully take in the other woman's face. Whatever it was Fleur was thinking about, she appeared to come to a decision. The Veela leaned forward to press soft lips on hers. It was a caress, not quite a kiss, as if Fleur was just reveling in the contact. Then the blonde sighed and pulled back.

"I 'ave to tell you something," Fleur breathed against her mouth.

"Shut up," Hermione whispered harshly. The words slipped out without thought. She was suddenly angered by what was likely to be a confession. The brunette ignored the fact that it was only a few moments ago that she wanted to see how far Fleur would take this before admitting the truth. What should've been a relief that the Veela wanted to come clean before things went further than a kiss was replaced by disappointment at the prospect of stopping so soon.

The blonde closed her eyes and nodded, her thrall roiling before flattening into a still coldness. Her submission only made Hermione even more furious. She wanted to yell, to scream at her for giving her up. You said we would be friends. We were supposed to always be friends.

Instead, Hermione took a breath and slowly exhaled, finally acknowledging to herself why she kept avoiding the blow-up her rage kept pushing her towards. Oh she'd snapped at her and had been mean but she'd found excuses to avoid going further than that. With new clarity, she remembered that before she'd opened the door she had decided not to go through with it, telling herself that she was worried about objectifying and fetishizing whoever the Veela was on the other side of the door. But that wasn't the only reason she'd been about to call it off. Ginny was right. A fantasy wouldn't have been enough. Hermione had wanted the real thing. She'd wanted Fleur.

She raised a hand to cup Fleur's cheek, giving her attention to the feel of her skin, and noticing how the touch seemed to soften the woman's thrall. Then she waited for Fleur to open her eyes. When she did, the sorrow in them sent a pang through the bookworm's chest for her harsh words. After all this time, she was still so hopelessly in love with this woman. This woman who had cracked her heart open, making her face her true self and recognize the love that lived within, a love that had started to grow as far back as that broken time at Shell Cottage. The hardened walls fell from her heart piece by piece with each new change in her life, from acceptance of her sexuality to the decision to leave Ron. But Fleur never came back to help the new flesh heal into something strong and whole. Instead, all these months her heart lay open, raw, battered. So, yes, a part of her would find satisfaction in getting this angry weight off her chest because she was still absolutely furious with the Veela. But she set it aside for now, overruled by the other part of her that wanted better memories to remember her by. One last good night, wasn't that what Hermione had given her that New Year's Eve? If Fleur was willing to give that back in return, then she wanted it. She wanted…

Hermione sighed and rested her forehead against Fleur's in apology and was glad to feel a hand come to rest atop her hand that was still on the blonde's cheek.

Nothing will be hidden. The words bore a path into Hermione's heart. A hint, a warning, a promise. What would she discover? She already knew Fleur wanted her; she'd said she was attracted to her. What else did Fleur want her to know? This escort foolishness, obviously, but more, there was more. Ginny told her to confess her feelings. But she was afraid. Every unanswered letter had been a knife slashing through their friendship. Another rejection like that would be unbearable.

And yet, now that she was allowing these feelings room to breathe, room to infiltrate her hopes and build her longing, she was beginning to see all the loose threads that Fleur and Ginny had laid out for her. If she pulled one, what would happen?

Trepidation crawled over her skin as she leaned forward to give Fleur a tender kiss of her own. When their lips touched, she paused to see if Fleur would pull away. She didn't. Willing lips parted and slid against hers, and when she felt Fleur's hands move up to cup her face, Hermione could feel her trembling fingers on her cheeks.

"I'm nervous, too," admitted Hermione softly. "I don't want to be bad at this. But also…"

Hermione gulped. Maybe Ginny was right about this, too. Maybe she needed to be honest. To stop with her selfishness and give Fleur a chance, or an out if that's what she wanted.

"But also," she repeated, "Everything you said was true. I do want this. I've wanted this with you since even before I knew what it meant. Tonight will mean something to me. You mean something to me."

Fleur blew out a long breath through her nose, letting her hands move down to wrap arms around her waist. Her thrall was tickling her skin now and the excitement she felt in the blonde was palpable.

"You could never be bad at this. Can't you feel it? You already make me feel so much. I never thought you could ever…" Fleur stopped and took a deep breath, lips curling into a small smile. "I also 'ave wanted this. For longer than you know."

It was a small exchange, different from the night's initial teasing, Hermione's bursts of anger, the pretense they put on during their dance, and all the other ways each of them had tried to keep their distance. It felt like how it used to be between them, when one expressed a worry and the other offered assurances. Only now the other woman's words hooked low in her stomach, and she felt her arousal pool under her skin, centering between her legs. Fleur had admitted it out loud; she wanted her and had long wanted her. The thrall felt thick and hot and it hovered, waiting for Hermione to make the next move.

Her heart clenched. Fleur wasn't an escort, she'd come here to talk, and she kissed her with so much yearning. Hermione's eyes widened as she stared back at Fleur.

The Frenchwoman nodded knowingly and pulled her closer. She pressed small kisses around Hermione's cheeks and the corners of her mouth.

"Fleur…" stammered Hermione, still grappling with what this meant. Her hands moved to grab the back of Fleur's neck.

"'Ermione," choked out Fleur. And in a whisper, "Do you want to stop? We can talk. I'll tell you anything you want to know."

Words spilled out in hurried gasps. "I don't want to stop. It's crazy but I don't. But you don't have to do this. You're in no way obligated –"

"That's not what this is. I want you, 'Ermione. I want you."

They were both shaking with barely held restraint now. The tension built like a crescendo, their faces flushed with desire. The rush of blood in Hermione's ears was almost deafening. She questioned Fleur one last time with her eyes, one more chance to put a stop to this. The blonde licked her lips and nodded, and that was all she needed. Hermione pulled her into a quick kiss then dropped her hands to undo the top button of Fleur's shirt.

"Show me," whispered Hermione into the Veela's mouth.

Fleur put her hands over Hermione's which were still on her shirt and re-closed the distance between them, her lips soft and reverent, and she forgot the pain of their unresolved past. She let herself forget everything except the feeling of Fleur against her.

A/N: Thanks so much for sticking with this. Hope you liked this latest chapter. One more to go!

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ceMR: Thanks!

xxDark Angel Babyxx: I know, this one has been a fun one to write. But all good things, right?