A/N: I listen to a lot of music when I write but one song that seemed to fit my mood the most for this work was Feist's version of "Lover's Spit".

Also, sexual content ahead.

:

Phooenicis: yes, I was crying :)

zerodawn22: thank you, I was very happy with how the thrall in this fic helps Hermione even when Fleur tries to hide it lol

xxDark Angel Babyxx: thanks, I hope you enjoy this last chapter too

ceMR: thanks! Yes, finally some openness. Let's see how that develops. :)

mione03: I'm glad you found this story. I hope you enjoy the ending.

Chapter 9

Hermione awoke from another nightmare, her mouth open in a silent scream, the wound on her arm throbbing as if the cuts had been freshly made. Before she could take the next breath that would allow her to expel her terror in a way that would have awakened the other occupants of Shell Cottage if there hadn't been a silencing charm, she felt an arm pull her close. That's when she remembered that Fleur had gotten in the bed earlier that night when Hermione had trouble sleeping. The younger witch buried her face in Fleur's chest, her tears dampening the blonde's nightgown, but she calmed as she focused on the soothing fingers rubbing her back, feeling the worry emanating from the other witch. When she stopped crying, Fleur adjusted so that she was lying on her back and she pulled Hermione to her so that she rested her head on the Veela's shoulder. The proximity didn't embarrass her like it would have prior to Malfoy Manor. She found it comforting being nestled in the safety of the thrall surrounding her, and she threw an arm over Fleur's waist to further anchor herself to the woman who brought her back from the brink after every nightmare.

"You will be fine, 'Ermione Granger," whispered Fleur. It was what she always said after Hermione had stopped crying. Or after any moment of self-doubt.

"Do you promise?" Hermione wiped away the tears, angry at herself for falling apart in her dreams yet again. She thought she'd been doing well. She'd even gone outside on the dunes for the first time the previous morning where Fleur had held her shoulder, reassured her, and in that moment Hermione believed her. But now her doubt was resurfacing.

"Oui, I promise. You 'ave so much to give this world, mon amie. You will come out of this stronger and I look forward to seeing it 'appen."

The Veela's confidence in her future made her want to cry again. It was so hard to see those things when the war was still ongoing. When they still hadn't destroyed all the horcruxes. But Fleur believed in her and Hermione held fast to it.

Was Fleur her friend now or was this all they had? She wanted to ask but kept her mouth shut. If she survived this, if they both did, then Hermione would take steps to build this connection to friendship. The bookworm just couldn't imagine not having Fleur in her life. The thought of the blonde being hurt in any way made her hold more tightly to her.

Fleur responded by pressing a soft kiss onto her forehead. Her lips lingered and Hermione felt a tug low in her belly. The sensation was unfamiliar to her; it brought her attention to how their bodies were pressed together, her leg slightly laying over Fleur's, and she wondered if she should put a more respectable distance between them. With her ear on Fleur's chest, she could hear how the blonde's heartrate accelerated but the thrall had lessened; she wasn't sure what Fleur was feeling. Confused, she was about to ask if she had made her uncomfortable but as if Fleur could hear her thoughts, arms tightened around Hermione, not letting her pull away.

"Try to rest, 'Ermione. You can 'elp me with breakfast in the morning."

Sufficiently distracted by the strong embrace and tomorrow's assigned task, Hermione closed her eyes and indulged in Fleur's softness.

Fleur pulled back slightly and without a word, waved her hand which turned off the main lights of the suite, leaving on only the reading light that was next to an armchair that sat beside the bed. Then she pulled Hermione back to her.

"Is that better?" asked the Veela between kisses.

"Perfect," replied Hermione. And it was. The rest of the room was dark but on the bed she could still see Fleur in the dim light, providing the more intimate atmosphere she wanted for this moment.

The Frenchwoman seemed hesitant, like she was waiting for Hermione to take the lead, so the brunette deepened the kiss, which quickly grew more passionate, a passion she had never felt until tonight. She had never felt the rush to be as close as possible to another person. Sex had been a thing that was tolerated; sometimes pleasant but never pleasurable in the ways she knew it should be. But now she hurtled towards it with abandon and raw need. Her first time with a woman, her first time with someone with whom she was in love.

They hurriedly undid the buttons of both of their shirts, pulling apart to remove them and then colliding together again, this time falling onto the bed. Moving back so that Hermione's head rested on a pillow, Fleur lay over her, nosing her neck, breathing her in like she would never get to again. The tendrils of her thrall clung to her, solid and strong, bright with the strength of the Veela's emotion. Blue eyes raked over her body and Hermione did not feel self-conscious at her scars staring back because she didn't see any pity in those eyes, only want and adoration.

With the strength and surprise of a flash flood, Hermione's hurt and anger came back again, scalding down her throat like she'd taken a gulp of too-hot-tea and the only thing she could do was breathe through it until it faded. Why had it taken this long to know Fleur wanted her? Feeling this, doing this, it was incredible, but she just couldn't pretend away her hurt or pretend she couldn't feel Fleur's pain beneath her desire, although it was more muted now that they'd both admitted to having wanted this for so long. The emotional pendulum she was on wouldn't stop swinging between agony and yearning, and logically she knew this meant it needed to be addressed but it was difficult to think with a Veela nibbling down her throat.

Fleur's movements were confident now. Hermione barely felt her skirt being unzipped and pulled down over her legs. Slender hands reached for her bra.

"You first," rasped Hermione, reaching for the front clasp of Fleur's bra. Her nervousness returned, worried over not being good enough. What if Fleur didn't like the way she touched her?

So wrapped up in her thoughts, her fingers lingered on the clasp without moving, and she didn't notice Fleur smiling at her.

"There isn't one way to do this, 'Ermione. Forget about what you've read and follow your instincts. We will discover the way together."

"Okay," she agreed. It sounded easy enough. But someone needed to pass the memo to her shaking hands. Because something else had just occurred to her. When Fleur had warned her that nothing would be hidden, Hermione knew she meant it would go both ways but she was distracted by her inner questions about what the Veela would reveal. Her thoughts glossed over what she would be revealing to the blonde, and even when she'd admitted to her that she'd wanted this before she knew what it meant, it hadn't hit Hermione until now that Fleur was going to feel the meaning underneath those words. Fleur was going to know everything she felt.

There was still time to stop this but Hermione knew she wouldn't. She told herself she was ready for her to know. And then maybe, after Fleur left her again, she could move on.

Fleur sat up and slowly removed her bra while keeping her eyes on the brunette, her expression both soft and fierce. Then she got off of the bed and removed her pants. Hermione stared at how perfect Fleur looked, her skin smooth and hers for the taking. When the woman rejoined her on the bed, Hermione sat up and brought a hand to her shoulder. Her fingers trembled at the silky feel of Fleur's bare skin, the collarbone under her thumb, the beauty marks on her neck and body that she wanted to kiss. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered wildly as she slid her hand down over the woman's chest and stopped just above her left breast, scared and uncertain. Summoning her courage, Hermione's hand lowered until she was cupping the blonde's breast, the hardened nipple pressing into the palm of her hand. There was no time to overthink this move because Fleur was now giving her a hard kiss.

Hermione's breathing quickened against the onslaught of Fleur's lips and teeth, which bit down her neck and she felt herself being pushed back down onto the bed. She squeezed the blonde's breast experimentally and smiled at the gasp Fleur let out. Then with her fingers she lightly pinched the nipple. The whimper she heard sent a flood of arousal through her body. Before she knew it, her own bra had been removed and they were now laying chest to chest, the only things separating them were their panties.

The weight of the Frenchwoman was so different than what she'd been used to. Hermione didn't like making comparisons to Ron but the difference was so glaring, she felt stupid for not figuring out her sexuality sooner. It wasn't just the softness of the other woman's breasts or her slender body slotting against her, it was the way being pressed down into a mattress felt like freedom instead of suffocation. It was actively seeking her kisses instead of turning away from them. It was feeling the shooting pleasure and swoop in her stomach when Fleur found a sensitive spot on her neck, so new and unfamiliar yet each time it was an affirmation that she wasn't frigid or any of those hurtful things he'd said to her in their worst moments.

Fleur moved like a flame and everywhere that she kissed consumed her and left a fire in its wake. Hot. Radiant. The burns branded across her body in a way she knew would not have happened with anyone else; not that girl from the club, not an anonymous escort. She felt this way because it was Fleur. It was only ever going to be Fleur.

The blonde moved lower and the brunette gasped as she felt a hot mouth close around one of her nipples, her other nipple being teased and pinched by Fleur's fingers. Hands moved to the blonde's head and started pulling the pins out to let down the hair out of its bun. She felt a smile over her breast.

"That will only get in the way later," murmured Fleur before biting softly on her nipple. Hermione blushed at the implication of those words, images floating in her mind of blonde hair spread out between her thighs.

"Don't care," she whispered in reply, burying her hands in Fleur's hair and pulling her closer.

The woman chuckled then trailed soft bites down the side of Hermione's abdomen, the loose tresses tickling her chest. The Veela's mouth felt so good and she hoped she would get to feel it everywhere. But she was determined for Fleur to be first. She would not be able to fully relax into this until she knew she could hold her own.

::

Fleur felt like she was in a blissful dream come true, feeling Hermione squirm beneath her, every breath felt against her skin sending electricity through her body. That Hermione had wanted her all this time was still a shock. Not just any woman, her. She had not allowed herself to fully believe that's what the list of preferences which Ginny shared had meant. But now… in every moment that passed she wanted to crumble in thankfulness that she could be with Hermione like this, in spite of her failings, in spite of everything she'd done to ruin any chance of this.

Hermione said to show her, and she wasn't just talking about sex. The witch wanted her to show her everything that she'd locked away, everything that she'd hidden and held back. And Fleur wanted to show her. She wanted to show her all of her love. And if what Hermione said was true, about her meaning something to the witch, then maybe they could rebuild what they lost and find a way to more.

"Fleur," breathed Hermione, and the blonde lifted her eyes to meet darkened brown ones. A hand against her chest pushing her. A part of her wanted to resist, the part that wasn't done exploring, but she could tell Hermione needed this control so Fleur let herself be rolled over onto her back. And when Hermione climbed over her, the desire in those eyes further ignited her arousal, and Fleur jolted her hips upward, needing to feel all of the brunette's body against hers.

"Fleur," the bookworm said again before diving forward to kiss along Fleur's shoulder. "Just so we're clear, you're not really an escort, right?"

The Veela moaned in response to a nip just under her ear and gasped out, "I'm sorry. I didn't come 'ere to lie like that but you were so cold and I panicked." Fleur was worried her answer would bring back the woman's anger but it was the truth and Hermione deserved as much of the truth as she could give.

Hermione huffed into her neck and muttered, "Ginny's idea to come?"

"Oui," Fleur breathed, groaning louder when Hermione nipped the same spot a little harder, followed by a tongue licking along her jawline.

"I'm going to hex her the next time I see her."

The brunette quickly sat up and then grabbed at the waistband of Fleur's panties, breathing hard while saying, "And then I'll thank her."

Fleur smiled and bit her lip, observing the deep breaths the other witch took to work up her nerve. She lifted her hips slightly which encouraged the brunette to begin pulling them off. After she did, the woman stopped and stared down at her with an expression that was a mixture of amazement and self-doubt.

"You're beautiful," the younger witch whispered.

When Hermione still didn't move, Fleur took her hands and gently pulled her down until she was laying between her legs. The Veela ran her hands over the witch's hair, softly kissing her and letting her thrall show Hermione how comfortable she was in this. That this was exactly where she wanted to be.

Whatever panic had overtaken the woman disappeared, and she spoke. "I just want you to feel good, Fleur."

"I already do. Because it's you."

::

Hermione smiled and kissed the blonde, moving down to suck along her collarbone, until she could feel the slick between Fleur's legs against her lower stomach. She pushed forward slightly and heard a sharp gasp. Breathing hard, the brunette took a nipple in her mouth and licked roughly as her hands moved to Fleur's hips, gripping them tightly. She continued like that for several minutes, enjoying the sweet taste of the blonde's skin and taking her time to mark her breasts with small bites. It wasn't until Fleur grabbed her hand and pushed it slightly towards her center that Hermione understood where she needed to go next.

A shudder moved through her body as she made a light pass over Fleur's sex with her hand, feeling the woman's wetness seep out of her folds when her fingers slid through seeking her entrance. The brunette gasped at the heat on her fingers and the heat of the thrall. Raising herself up so that she could look down on Fleur's face, she waited until the Veela gave a quick nod, at which Hermione pushed one and then two fingers inside. So hot. So, so hot. Hermione's heart pounded and she felt dizzy. To center herself, she directed some of her focus to Fleur's hands on her back.

"Are you all right, chérie?" asked Fleur, her voice husky with her arousal.

"Yes, I… Fleur, you feel…" Hermione stammered, at a loss as to how to express herself without sounding like such a novice.

Fleur lifted her head and kissed her, deep and wet, then said against her lips, "Move your fingers."

Nodding, she slowly moved her fingers in and out and gradually lost herself in Fleur's moans and heat, the warmth in the thrall becoming hotter with every thrust. After a while, one of Fleur's hands moved down between them and guided her exploration, drawing out Hermione's fingers and moving them up to her clit, demonstrating the movements she liked, then leading her fingers back inside. Fleur also used her words, always encouraging, either vocalizing approval or suggesting an adjustment, which built up Hermione's confidence to move past the newness of it and focus on matching the verbal cues with how she was touching her. When Hermione nodded her readiness to take over, Fleur let go and brought her hand to the brunette's shoulder.

This was so much better than she imagined it would be. She loved how responsive Fleur was, and Hermione memorized everything so that those alluring sounds wouldn't stop. She took note of what happened when the heel of her palm hit just right and she moved her thumb to see what pressure and touches made Fleur scream. Hermione had planned to take her time to more thoroughly explore the intricacies of Fleur's pleasure but then the Veela spoke.

"'Ermione, please… please no more teasing," whispered Fleur.

Hermione did not want to disappoint her and settled into a pace and pressure that drew her favorite reactions out of the Veela. The thrall swirled around her now, a flurry of varied emotions, but Hermione's focus was on what she was physically doing so she filtered through the thrall and zeroed in on how it let her know Fleur was enjoying herself, chasing her pleasure but still giving control to the brunette. She glanced at her other hand which gripped the sheet beside Fleur's head, she saw the faint orange glow change to a faint red. Hermione was lucky the aura only showed up on her hands; it would have been extremely embarrassing if the whole of her lit up like a glow stick. It was still surprising to see it in an aroused state and not just during climax but perhaps her heightened emotions were contributing to that. Her experiments with masturbation taught her the glow stayed faint no matter the intensity of her orgasm, but the colors did change. Red used to be a typical result. But after she realized how she felt about Fleur and women, incorporating the blonde into her fantasies produced purples and occasionally white.

She increased the pace, her arm feeling hot with the effort, but Fleur's cries and whimpers told her she couldn't stop. The blonde's hips met every thrust with force and her fingers dug into her back so hard she could feel her blunt fingernails.

When Fleur finally came, she felt the clenching around her fingers and the velvety squeeze of the thrall around her. The brunette smiled, feeling happy and a bit smug at the gorgeous sight of Fleur undone by her hand. Hermione knew enough to slow her movements to bring Fleur back down from her high but what surprised her was how quickly Fleur recovered; the woman growled and pushed until Hermione was on her back, her underwear swiftly pulled off. The Veela then spread open her legs and trailed a finger down her body, starting at her mouth, down her chest and stomach, and through her center.

"Tu es si mouillée, 'Ermione," said Fleur under her breath, her fingers moving slowly and avoiding more sensitive areas. And just when Hermione thought Fleur would finally get to it, the blonde moved her hand upward, over her stomach and back to her breasts, squeezing gently before leaning forward. Adjusting so that she straddled one of Hermione's thighs, Fleur lay over her and pressed unhurried kisses along her neck and jaw, occasionally moving the leg that was between her legs, which came close to giving the brunette the friction she needed but not close enough. Feeling the wetness of the other woman on her thigh made her wonder if she could hurry Fleur along in her own way but when she moved her thigh upwards it only earned her an appreciative moan and no change to the woman's touches and kisses.

When it didn't seem like Fleur would give her what she wanted, Hermione whined, "I thought you said no teasing."

Fleur lifted her head, met her eyes, and didn't even try to hide her satisfied smirk. "Consider this part of tonight's lesson. When you 'ave a woman at your fingertips, willingly giving 'erself to you, drawing it out and making her beg en'ances the pleasure for you both. It takes a while to learn your partner's limits but practice makes perfect, non?"

Hermione whimpered in reply. Her hopes rose when the Frenchwoman trailed a hand down her body, only to be dashed when the hand settled over her hip.

"But also…" And this time the Veela's voice was low, the flirtatious tone gone. "I've waited a long time for this, 'Ermione. I want to touch and taste every part of you."

Another hand pinched and kneaded at Hermione's breast before being replaced by the blonde's wet mouth, leading Hermione to moan and gasp at every tug and lick, giving herself up to sensation. Fleur's touch at first glance might have appeared languid and done without concentration, yet the tingle of the thrall told Hermione that the Veela was intently focused on her and her responses. The woman's mouth blazed a trail down her body, bites and open-mouthed kisses dragged all the way down to her toes. For a couple of seconds, she had felt a tongue swipe through her center and Hermione arched towards her, needing her to continue, but Fleur only sighed a quiet 'not yet' and kept moving. When she finished mapping her frontside, Fleur flipped her over so she could do the same going up her backside, her hot tongue increasing Hermione's impatience for more. She tried to take matters into her own hands but Fleur pulled her hand away, flipped her again so that she lay on her back, and warned her not to do that again. It was frustrating and titillating and Hermione loved every second of it.

She had dreamed of this. She'd imagined Fleur touching her, wanting her, and to feel it now for real brought a sting to her eyes.

Hermione blinked it away and bit her lip, trying not to do what Fleur was waiting for but in the end she succumbed and begged repeatedly for the woman to take her. It seemed at first that Fleur would listen and her touch became firmer. A hand drifted down to her center, making her almost weep in anticipation, but again she was denied as the explorations avoided her entrance and clit. However, she could feel her body being wound up like a spring. She twisted and arched under Fleur's touch and kisses, feeling the tension inside coil tight and on the verge of snapping.

Reaching her limit, she grabbed the back of Fleur's neck, and pulled her into a rough kiss. But Fleur would not be rushed. The blonde slowed it down and patiently sucked and bit her lower lip even as her fingers began to lazily circle her clit, driving her wild but only taking her to the edge then backing away.

It was only when Fleur finally seemed satisfied that Hermione was completely at her mercy that her touches became filled with intent.

"Inside?" Fleur asked in a raspy voice.

At Hermione's nod, Fleur entered her with two fingers. She nearly came right then, so palpable was her relief. Raising her hands to Fleur's face, she saw the faint purple glow on them as she swiped a thumb across the Veela's mouth, pulling her face towards her.

"I can feel you," panted Fleur, thrusting slowly into Hermione. "The colors, I don't need to see to know. I can feel 'ow good this feels to you."

Hermione couldn't respond, her attention was on Fleur inside her and she never wanted this feeling to end. She turned her head to the side and Fleur's face buried into her neck. Their sweat-covered bodies slid against her each other perfectly. It was slow and gentle but Hermione was still overwhelmed by every sensation moving through her and at the same time it was not enough. Her hands gripped the backs of Fleur's shoulders, feeling herself so close to the edge, and as if reading her mind, Fleur used her thumb where she needed her most.

All thought left her as she came apart at last, crying out Fleur's name, her aura glowing white as waves of pleasure pulsed through her. But Fleur didn't stop. The older witch wrapped an arm around Hermione's back and with surprising strength, pulled her up until she was straddling the blonde, slender fingers still inside her. Instinctively, Hermione wrapped her arms around Fleur's shoulders to help keep them both upright.

The brunette could barely catch her breath but she still ground against Fleur's hand, hurrying after her second release. Her head fell forward and she pressed her forehead into Fleur's shoulder with her eyes closed, hearing the Veela's gasps for air near her ear. The thrall was hotter than it had been minutes ago, more heady, more possessive, and it seemed to be opening up even more. She hadn't really been focusing on it before, so distracted by her own pleasure, but now she felt it pulling at her and she felt her own magic reaching out as well. Hermione could feel it inside, clutching around her heart, feeling cherished, adored, protected. The thrall swirled in time with her racing heartbeat, and Fleur's heart sounded in her ears, too, beating in unison with her own. Weaving itself with the thrall, her magic melded so fully with it that the seams disappeared. It was no longer just sensing Fleur's emotions through the thrall, it was feeling them inside her. And tears stung her eyes again at what she could now feel coming from Fleur. She could feel it. She could feel it all.

Nothing will be hidden.

Pushing back, they locked eyes, still moving together but too stunned to do anything else but stare. Fleur's expression was full of awe and surrender, the depths of her blue eyes drawing her in like whatever pain they were clinging to didn't matter. Joy flowed through Fleur's body, and she knew it was because the woman could feel the love the bookworm had for her. A love Hermione was just now realizing was shared.

She thought she'd been prepared for this. She was convinced she was ready to share her heart so she could move on. And she had suspected Fleur felt more than attraction for her but she had no idea how it would feel to have her suspicions confirmed or for how it would feel for Fleur's emotions to literally move through her. And the sheer magnitude and breadth of the woman's love knocked the wind out of her.

Hermione caught the Veela's lips in a messy kiss. She didn't want the woman to say the words. She wasn't ready. Oh Merlin, she wasn't ready.

Fleur curled her fingers and Hermione was helpless to the pleasure of it. She threw her head back and closed her eyes, feeling Fleur's mouth latch onto her neck.

"Je t'aime, 'Ermione," Fleur breathed in a thick voice. "Je t'aime."

Hermione's eyes flew open and she could no longer blink the stinging away. Burning tears fell in elation and bitterness. She had felt it but to hear it out loud, her heart hammered, tearing the frayed stitches she'd used to patch herself together in order to keep functioning after Fleur left that last time.

Grinding her hips harder against Fleur, her cries became a combination of moans and wet gasps. She saw tears fall from Fleur's eyes, too, and she shook her head, squeezing the woman with her arms and with her thighs. It was coming. Not just a sexual release but a release of everything she'd been holding inside. And she could do nothing to stop it.

Her body tensed and she bit down hard on the blonde's shoulder; when her orgasm washed over her, her aura again glowed white, and her pleasure was accompanied by soul-wrenching sobs.

How did she not know? How did she not know Fleur Delacour loved her?

Hands gripped the woman's back to hold her close but to also make sure she was real, that this was all real.

"You left!" cried Hermione suddenly, her body collapsing against Fleur, barely noticing that the Veela's fingers were no longer inside her. But Fleur didn't let go, she held her up in a tight embrace.

Her magic pulled back, still intertwined with the thrall but not as seamless as it was before. Hermione was overcome by their connection, by what she felt in the woman's thrall, and by a growing anger at what she now realized was the real reason for Fleur's abandonment. It was too much. It was infuriating. It was maddening. She clawed at the blonde, her words tumbling between heaving breaths.

"You loved me and you left! How could you do that? How could you do that to me?!"

"I thought you loved 'im, I thought I was doing the right thing!" explained Fleur between sobs of her own, her voice almost hysterical, pleading for understanding.

Growling through her tears, she pushed and pulled at Fleur's shoulders, unable to hide her devastation.

"Fuck you, you could've told me. Instead of making me feel like you were never my friend. Instead of making me ache for you ever since that night. I fucking ached for you."

Breaking wide open, Hermione felt herself untethered, and it was only Fleur's arms holding her together. Her sobs grew louder.

"I fell in love with you, Fleur, and you left me. You were gone. You didn't even write."

She cried and she screamed, lamenting at their lost time and at all the ways Fleur had broken her. And still Fleur held on, crying with her. The warmth of the thrall grew at her confession, at her love being verbalized at last, but Fleur finding any reason to be happy right now only enraged Hermione. The Veela laid her back down against the bed and showered her face with kisses, wiping away the tears that wouldn't stop falling.

"I was a coward. When you got engaged I realized I was attracted to you and I thought the only way I could stop it was to stay away. Because I was married." The blonde emphasized those last words through gritted teeth, as if it was all the explanation Hermione needed. Then she continued, speaking quickly as if afraid Hermione wouldn't let her get the words out. "But my feelings didn't go away. The night of the party I realized it wasn't just attraction, that I was in love, but I thought it was 'opeless because you were married. I ran. I didn't know what else to do. But I shouldn't 'ave left like that. I know that now. Forgive me. Please, forgive me."

Fleur made to roll off of her but Hermione held on tighter, needing her close. The blonde settled back on top of her, wiped more of her tears away, and whispered, "I do love you, 'Ermione. I moved back 'ere for you. I should've written. I should've done so many things. I love you. I love you."

"Fleur…" Hermione breathed, staring up into Fleur's tear-filled eyes and hearing the truth in her words but it wasn't enough to placate her. "Fleur, you let me go."

She became frantic again in her movements, seeing only that stricken look on Fleur's face before she ran from her at the Burrow, and kept repeating some version of 'you let me go' until the blonde grabbed her hands and pinned them down beside her head to get her attention.

"Non, jamais. I left but I never let you go, 'Ermione. Je ne te lacherai jamais."

The Frenchwoman's words were urgent, desperate, and she peppered more kisses over Hermione's face. The brunette stopped fighting it and let the kisses soothe the anguish and anger within. Fleur sensed this and released her hands, which slowly raked up the blonde's back to pull her closer. And as emotionally fraught as Hermione was, her arousal grew at the love and care that Fleur was showing her.

::

The Veela should've anticipated an emotional upheaval when she confessed her love. It had been done on instinct, though. In their moment of joining she had felt Hermione's heart and it left her breathless and weak. It was everything she had ever hoped for and what she thought she'd never have. Hermione could feel her love, too, and she couldn't hold back the words. She told her even though she could also feel the echoes of the younger witch's heartbreak which caused her own heart to crack anew, regret slicing through her at the impact of her past actions. She deserved all of the woman's recrimination, and even though it pained her to see Hermione so distressed after she confessed her love, she knew the woman needed to unleash her hurt like this. So, she held on, supporting her, giving the woman her strength so she could cry and hate her as much as she needed to. Because as angry as the witch was, she knew Hermione still loved her, and even though she wasn't forgiven and may never be, there was hope like she had never felt it and it gave her the resolve to push forward and keep fighting for her love.

Fleur hadn't intended in the aftermath for her kisses of comfort to lead to more. It was the sight of Hermione beginning to drown in her doubt that made Fleur want to surround her with love. But now Fleur was on her back and her comfort was being returned with a hunger so intense that she was in a losing battle against the desire building inside of her. The reasons for the escalation likely included avoidance, they had a mountain of baggage to sift through after all, but the truth was she also needed this reassurance. She needed to know Hermione still wanted her now that she knew why she'd destroyed their friendship. However, her conscience buzzed in the back of her mind that they couldn't avoid discussing things forever.

Just thinking about the brunette's love made her blood sing in happiness and she moaned into Hermione's mouth, one arm around the brunette's waist, the other tangled in the hair at the back of her head, enjoying the feeling of the witch on top of her. But when Hermione started to grind herself down on her thigh, Fleur was again torn.

Breaking from the kiss, she asked in panting breaths, "Maybe we should slow down? Talk?"

Hermione responded by sliding her hand down to between Fleur's legs. The Veela groaned, unable to resist and pushed herself into the hand.

"We will, but not right now," breathed Hermione. They kissed again, Hermione licking into her mouth like she could do it for hours.

Fleur gave in and rolled them over. She looked down into her eyes and said, "D'accord."

Her response earned a smile but a flash of worry shot through her at what flitted across Hermione's face. There was desire but also a hardness. It dampened some of her confidence that they would be able to work past this. But then Hermione pulled her into another kiss, this one so full of passion that Fleur lost herself to it. She reminded herself that they loved each other. They would work through this turmoil. They had to.

*::::*

Later, when physical and emotional exhaustion could no longer be ignored, Hermione and Fleur lay together awake and silent in their thoughts. The brunette lay on her back with the blonde draped over her possessively, her head on the bookworm's chest and an arm wrapped over her as if she were afraid Hermione would disappear. The thrall was warm so Fleur was not unhappy but it was also restless, roiling in choppy waves. She knew Fleur was thinking about what happened and what it all meant. But the woman was giving her time with her own thoughts, just as she did when they had cuddled like this after her nightmares at Shell Cottage.

Hermione traced vague shapes with her fingers along the Frenchwoman's back, slightly pushing down the sheet that was covering them until it reached Fleur's waist, comforted by her skin even as her thoughts drifted. Initiating another round of sex after her breakdown earlier had been a delay tactic. But her anger kept wanting to lash out, and Fleur's kisses and care calmed her. She wanted to keep feeling that love so she took it and the other woman gave her everything she demanded. Fleur unraveled all and laid herself bare. While she was catching her breath after the Veela had pulled a powerful release from her with her mouth, Hermione finally felt it. She felt the woman's heart call out to hers and felt her despair at getting no answer in return. Hermione then remembered she wasn't the only one that was hurting, she wasn't the only one whose heart rent into shreds at their fallout and final parting. But she had looked inward at her own hurt and held back her love while Fleur continued to show and give all of hers. A knot formed in her throat at her selfishness, and as complicated as this whole thing was she didn't want Fleur to think for one second longer that this was one-sided. So, Hermione let her heart answer her love's call.

She'd pulled Fleur to her and kissed her in a way that demanded nothing. Gentle. Comforting. An acknowledgement of what they'd revealed and felt. Fleur's resulting smile made the brunette's heart swell. And once she had started giving, she couldn't stop. Hermione was skittish at first but one by one her defenses fell until she was giving all of her love, her fears, her need. Using everything she'd learned, she kissed, touched, licked, and made love to the woman in her arms until she felt Fleur's heart burst and her happiness break free. Until they laughed and cried and tenderly made love again. Until they could do nothing but hold each other and bask in their hearts' entanglement and the joining of magic and thrall.

And now in the quiet stillness, sated in the knowledge of their love, Hermione's mind kept working, examining what happened in the past given this new information. The bookworm saw things she had missed, the conversations that had been on the cusp of revealing to one or both of them that their friendship had crossed over into love. They had fallen in love with each other and both had been blind to the other's feelings until now.

She finally understood. Fleur's honor, her views on marriage. How Fleur had behaved all made sense. While her friend still could've said something, could have at least said she had developed feelings that meant she needed to step away from their friendship, Hermione knew the other witch wouldn't have acted on it, not while either of them was married. But she also had to be honest with herself. What would Hermione have done? What if Fleur had said something when she got engaged? Would her heart have been ready to accept it or would she have confusedly supported Fleur's decision to step away and married Ron anyway? She could be married to him now and might never have realized her heart's true desire.

All right, Hermione concluded, not before I was ready. That left the New Year's Eve party. Fleur could've told her then. The woman also could have replied to her letters and offered some kind of explanation. On the other hand, Hermione could've done something, too. She could've forced a confrontation after Fleur stopped meeting her for lunches or after Fleur started avoiding her at the Burrow. Or she could've chased after her to France after she moved back there. But Hermione hadn't done any of those things.

At this, Hermione inhaled and released a cleansing breath. Dwelling on what should have been done, on the what if's, and on all of their missed opportunities would only keep her wounds open and cause them to fester. Not dwelling didn't mean she had to avoid the past or her hurt, though. What it meant was that now that the floodgates had opened on her bottled-up emotions, there was hope that she could confront and get closure on that past without being so overwhelmed by it.

"Did I ever tell you that I could always tell when your mind was ready to rest?" Fleur asked quietly, a fond amusement in her tone.

Hermione snorted and turned so her lips touched the top of Fleur's head. "Oh?"

"You take a breath, like you're closing a book and looking to move to the next thing. It's very endearing."

The brunette's heart fluttered at the observation. What other things had Fleur noticed about her and not said?

"Has it really been since I was engaged?" asked Hermione gently, still wondering how she'd missed those early signs.

"Oui," whispered Fleur without hesitation. "But as I said, I didn't know it was love then. And I think… I know… it started before that."

"For me, too. I think I've loved you since Shell Cottage."

Hermione felt Fleur's arms squeeze her more firmly, her thrall warming in response but underneath there was that sharp prickliness; a tiny fear troubled the Veela.

"What 'appens now?" Fleur asked, her voice small.

She didn't answer right away. Hermione reminded herself that Fleur had already made her intentions clear: she moved back to London for her. It was Hermione's decision now on where to go from here. There were many hard conversations ahead of them but Hermione wanted to believe they could find a way.

"Maybe we could start with my inviting you out for coffee?"

Fleur raised her head to look at her, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

"Oui, I would like that very much."

The Veela's voice was heavy with so many things still unsaid and her piercing blue eyes told Hermione she would eventually say them all.

"Good," Hermione replied quietly.

Her arms went around Fleur's back, pulling her close and the blonde laid her head on her shoulder, burying her face into her neck.

"We will be fine, Fleur Delacour."

Fleur let out a wet laugh.

"Do you promise?"

She felt Fleur's full lips stretch in a wide smile before pressing a lingering kiss over the tears that had fallen on Hermione's neck. The tension released from Veela's body as the thrall wrapped itself around the two of them, showing her confidence, love, and trust. There was still a twinge of doubt but Hermione had that, too, and it was okay. The fact that they both felt it meant they both knew how fragile this was and that they would need to work to strengthen it.

A tear trailed down Hermione's face as she felt the love in Fleur's thrall surround her. Soft, steady, true. Comforting her, reassuring her, telling her that the blonde was taking the leap with her, wherever it would lead. It burrowed in her heart and rooted itself deep. Yes. She would do anything to keep this. She was in love and she could now express that love. Neither of them knew what was going to happen but a chance was all they needed to be happy, and they were going to take and hold onto it together.

"Oui," whispered Hermione. "I promise."

A/N: Thank you so much for sticking with me on this story, for all the favorites, reviews, and follows. You all rock. It had more emotional turmoil than I thought it would have at the start but sometimes stories take on lives of their own. It was fun (and agonizing) to write and I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did. Thanks again.

Tu es si mouillée = you're so wet
Je ne te lacherai jamais = I'll never let you go