Tender Is The Night

by lipeviez

In a bid to keep from breaking one person's heart, Fleur does something drastic which prevents her from recognizing Hermione as her mate, but it doesn't prevent the love that grows anyway. A night of passion leads to heartbreak and so much more, putting two brokenhearted women on separate paths that lead right back to each other. fleurmione. Post-war. Canon divergence.

6. The demons go away

A/N: Hey everyone, sorry for the wait. Here's a long chapter to make up for it. I thought about breaking it up into two but it made more sense to keep it all together.

TW/CW: brief implied reference to miscarriage, references to internalized homophobia

Some of you probably already know but I realized I hadn't said anything about it yet, so just in case you didn't know, the title of this work comes from the song "Tender" by Blur. The chapter titles are adapted from the lyrics, too.

It's a breakup song but it has this hopefulness in it that I felt fit really well with the theme of my story. And since the song was released as a single in early 1999, with promotion of it and the album it's on happening in March of that year, it tickled me to think this would be in heavy rotation on the radio as the story begins in ch 1. A bit of music knowledge for you all.

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Chapter 6 – The demons go away

"What do you want to be when you grow up, Fleur?"

Fleur turned her head to the girl lying on the blanket beside her. She and Hermione were out by the Black Lake, unseen due to a Veela-enhanced disillusionment charm. The second task was over a week ago and she was still recovering from her failure, as well as her jealousy at seeing Hermione be Krum's hostage, but the bookworm had done her best to soothe her bruised ego with soft words and softer kisses. And Fleur thought it would be her turn to comfort Hermione given the subject matter of Skeeter's article which came out the day before but was pleasantly surprised the brunette only found it laughable.

They agreed to meet after Hermione returned from Hogsmeade in the late afternoon, and Fleur decided it was the perfect opportunity to sneak away with the cute Gryffindor for some alone time outside, instead of their habit of meeting in secret passageways or empty classrooms. After some heated kissing, they were now lying close together. The weather was surprisingly mild after all of that cold weather and they didn't need their coats or the extra blanket Fleur had brought.

Thanks to Fleur's enchantment, no one could see them, but they were also far enough from the castle that no one came near anyway. It had been Hermione's idea to keep their knowing each other a secret. The Frenchwoman hadn't cared either way but she did find she liked not having to deal with teasing classmates and their pointed questions about how differently she was behaving with Hermione compared to how she had acted with her dalliances during the previous school year. No one had to tell her. She already knew it was different. She already knew her first two lovers had been about experience, not connection. And she knew that the hookups that came afterwards were the same. She was attracted to them and they filled a need. That was all.

But she and Hermione weren't having sex. What need was Hermione filling?

"I thought my birthday this past September meant that I was already grown," replied Fleur cheekily.

Hermione huffed but kept her gaze upwards. "You know what I mean, silly. And you may be legally of age in the wizarding world but in much of the muggle one you are still an adolescent like me."

Fleur teased, "Poor adolescent you, having to waste your precious time snogging an immature French adolescent like me."

Hermione smiled and turned to look at her. Fleur did her best to keep her features still, to hide how her heart pounded at seeing the brunette's soft smile.

"It's too bad you don't let anyone else see you silly like this," Hermione said affectionately. Then she whispered, "I was born in September, too, by the way."

Fleur answered with a small smile, not wanting to reveal that she had found out that particular detail months ago. She turned away to look back up at the cloudy afternoon sky, trying to calm her racing heart. Whenever Hermione looked at her like that, she felt completely exposed. She wanted to say it was just a natural consequence of their physical entanglement which had begun after the holiday break. However, that would be discounting how her attraction to the bookworm actually started soon after she arrived at this school, watching and provoking the girl throughout the first term. But she didn't want to dwell any further on her motivations for that, so she thought back to Hermione's question.

"There are opportunities at the Ministry back home. I've been told by my professors I could do well as an auror. I also really enjoyed learning about ancient runes and protection wards and curses. I might pursue that. We'll see. What about you?"

That was the first time she'd told anyone about her interest in curse-breaking or becoming an auror. But speaking with Hermione always made her want to share her true opinions and interests. Like she knew the witch was the only one who would understand her. Her parents fully expected her to make her mark as a French Ministry official on the bureaucratic side of things. Her clan expected it, too. But she had no interest in being just another politician. If only she'd been able to complete the Second Task; she worried her professors would no longer think her capable of becoming an auror. This concern made her more determined than ever to prove to everyone the Goblet hadn't made a mistake in selecting her as a champion.

When she realized Hermione hadn't answered her question, Fleur looked at her and was surprised to see her dark expression, brown eyes looking more distant than she'd ever seen them. But then the witch noticed that Fleur was staring, and from her embarrassed look it was obvious she hadn't meant for the blonde to see her like that.

"Well," Hermione started, clearing her throat. "Before I learned I was a witch, I thought I'd be a doctor or a lawyer. Then I suppose I thought the perfect job for me would be as a professor here, or maybe making a difference at the Ministry. The laws in this country which discriminate against those who aren't human are absolutely horrendous. Don't worry, I'm not about to start another rant. It's just that… it's hard to think about the future nowadays."

Fleur frowned at the sad tone.

"What do you mean?"

Hermione looked torn, like she was searching for a way not to answer. The girl sighed.

"I mean… well, I can't tell you how many close calls I've had so far at this school," Hermione said with a crooked smile that didn't reach her eyes. "And of course, this whole business with someone putting Harry's name in the Goblet. The Death Eaters at the Quidditch World Cup. Things are happening, Fleur. Dangerous things. Sometimes the only future I see is constantly battling to keep my friends safe. It doesn't leave room for much else."

She could tell there was more the girl wasn't saying. Talk had circulated in the carriage when they first arrived about Harry and his friends but it was hard to separate fact from rumor. And she never wanted to push Hermione to reveal more than she was ready to share. Those things weren't why she liked spending time with the girl. Without thinking, Fleur held out her arm and the brunette looked grateful as she moved to lay her head on the Veela's shoulder. She could tell Hermione nearly threw a leg over her thigh but decided against it. It would have surprised her if she had. Their snogging sessions were just that; hands stayed respectfully over clothes and legs never tangled together. Fleur definitely liked being together like this, though. She liked the weight of her on her shoulder, the way her arm clasped around her waist, the way her brown curls tickled when she turned to nuzzle into her hair. What Hermione said was all true, she knew, but the pressure the girl put on herself was too much. The Gryffindor had more years of schooling ahead and shouldn't be thinking so bleakly. She rubbed a hand over Hermione's back until she could feel her relax.

"I'm guessing this means you haven't drawn up endless lists of names for your future children," teased Fleur.

Hermione chuckled and lifted her head to stare at the blonde.

"And I suppose you have?"

"Mais oui, I have lots of names to choose from. Family names, names from literature, all French of course."

Hermione pressed a gentle kiss on her chin and those honey-brown eyes told Fleur she knew exactly what the Veela was doing. Then the bookworm playfully rolled her eyes, happily going along with the change in subject.

"I like French names. In fact, I like a lot of French things. My parents and I like to holiday in France, I'll have you know."

"Ah yes, you've said this before, and yet you still won't speak in my language with me."

"Not until I'm perfectly fluent, Delacour, you know this."

Fleur scoffed jokingly, tightening her hold around Hermione's back, feeling a tingling under her skin when she felt the girl's nose and lips press into her neck.

Hermione pulled back again. "I also like names of flowers. Like Violet, Zinnia –"

"Rose?"

The brunette smiled. "Mhmm, I love that one."

"I like flower names, too," Fleur said. Then she bit her lip, trying to hide her smile. "Not being fluent in French, you are perhaps unaware that my name actually means 'flower'."

Of course, Hermione knew such an easy vocabulary word. Fleur was just trying to make her friend smile. Friend? Did one call their secret paramour a friend? Whatever this was did have more of an emotional closeness than she was used to, closer even than with those few she would have definitely considered her friends. The way their rendezvous over the last couple of weeks had started to include conversations like this, tender talks which seemed to try to fill a lifetime of knowing each other into all-too-brief stolen moments… The young Veela was distracted by her thoughts and didn't notice that Hermione's face was right above hers. But then a hand cupped her cheek and her eyes suddenly focused on honey-brown ones.

"I do know that, actually," whispered Hermione, her breath a soft tease against Fleur's lips. "And a very beautiful rose you are, too. Thorns and all."

Warmth filled Fleur at the compliment. She'd received plenty of them in her life so far but hearing them from Hermione was different. The bookworm didn't wield flattery as a self-serving tool. Her compliments were rare, and stated factually, as if the subject of the compliment should know this already and didn't need to hear it from her.

"As are you, ma belle," Fleur replied, leaning up to kiss the corner of Hermione's mouth. She loved the resulting blush on the girl's cheeks.

The blonde ignored the voice in her head which said she was getting too caught up in this. She argued she was still in control and told herself the tingling under her skin was just desire.

"We have about ten minutes left until I have to be back at the carriage. Shall we make the most of it?" Fleur smiled suggestively. Hermione laughed and quickly crushed her lips to Fleur's. The blonde tangled her hands into wild brown hair and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss, again arguing to herself that she was in complete control.

*::::*

"What does love mean to you, Fleur?"

Fleur looked up from her dinner and gazed across the table at Raquel. They'd been chatting amiably over a roast chicken dinner, something the healer wanted to do today for Fleur's birthday. The conversation had lulled into a comfortable silence and Fleur's thoughts drifted to a happy memory of Hermione when they were at Hogwarts.

"I was wondering when you would ask me that again," said Fleur. She tried to sound unaffected but she could see by the look in the healer's eyes that she wasn't successful.

Raquel smiled and pressed on. "What we do here is not therapy in the traditional sense. I offer perspective on your grief and whatever else you need to share, but I'm also here to challenge you to face very specific topics related to why you're here at the camp. In this respect, I am both healer and teacher. And as I'm sure you remember in your training growing up, Veela teachers have free rein to catch you off guard in situations you least expect, which is why my visits haven't always been predictable in when and what we did. So… Love. You have bonded with your mate, you love her, and she loves you –"

"She doesn't love me," said Fleur through gritted teeth. She debated leaving the table. It had been two weeks since her breakdown. Raquel and Kathleen had given her space to lick her wounds but she still felt too raw for this conversation. Fleur picked up her glass of wine and took a sip. She wasn't drinking heavily anymore but there were still times when she lashed out. And sometimes, instead of anger making her want to destroy everything around her, her mood went the other way and she felt too sad to move. Four days ago, she spent Hermione's birthday locked up in her room, either staring listlessly at the ceiling while lying in bed or writing frantic pleas for her mate to take her back.

"Fleur, you know that isn't true. Her not choosing you doesn't mean she doesn't still love you. The way our bonds work, our mates are those our souls recognize as ones who will love us as fiercely and loyally as we love them."

"If she still loves me then why has she rejected me?" she choked out, the knot in her throat growing. She slammed her hand on the table, forcing the knot back down. Fleur didn't really need an answer. She knew what she had done. And she remembered her lessons about the mated bond. Raquel was right about Hermione still loving her, but instead of bringing her comfort this knowledge only added to her anger and despair. Hermione loved her but didn't want to be with her.

"I still don't know who she is, Fleur, or what really happened. And even if I did, I could only speculate. But she is human and rejected bonds tend to happen with humans. As Veela, we cannot hide from our instincts. We can bury emotions and lie to ourselves and others as much as any sentient being, but the bond, once that is formed our love is unbound. It is so much a part of our souls that it swells in our hearts with every breath. Our human mates, on the other hand, have this incredible and frustrating ability to suppress their true selves even after bonding. They do love us but they are able to turn away from the bond if that's what they choose."

"And she can love another," Fleur whispered.

"Yes," said Raquel simply. "It won't be as fulfilling as her bond with you but yes."

Fleur blinked back the tears that wanted to form, and looked back down at her plate, concentrating on her breathing exercises to calm herself.

"I don't say these things to hurt you, Fleur. Surely you realize by now this heartbreak cannot be dealt with in the same way as those you may have experienced in the past, or seen others experience. There is no waiting for time to pass and for the love to fade, because it won't. There is no hardening yourself into unfeeling stone. If you try, you'll only make yourself feel worse. The love is always there, always driving you towards her. And it will still be there sixty or seventy years from now, just as strong as it is today. You will find it easier if you embrace your love, if you let it sit beside you wherever you are and feel it."

The younger Veela nodded and felt a tear escape, falling down her cheek. She wiped her cheek and took a deep breath. Fleur stood and picked up her glass of wine, gesturing for Raquel to follow her. She didn't bother with cleaning up the table. That could wait; she needed to do this now. Entering the living room, Fleur used her wand to start the fire in the hearth and sat down on the sofa. Raquel sat beside her, waiting. After a few moments of staring into the fire, Fleur spoke.

"Her name is Hermione Granger and we met five years ago when I was seventeen."

*::::*

Two months later, and peace and acceptance were still out of reach, although it could be argued that she wasn't quite reaching for them wholeheartedly.

Fleur was still taking the potion. Kathleen was her same prickly self, but Fleur's curiosity wasn't enough motivation to try to break through that shell. The old Veela had said she'd been through this, and as much as she wanted to know if she was correct in her guess that Kathleen was the last bonded Veela to be rejected, she wasn't sure she was ready for that conversation. What she did do, however, was ask the old woman to teach her more about woodworking.

"And you think you have the patience for that sort of work, little Brit?" Kathleen asked.

"I have more patience than you think. And I'm French, not British," Fleur bit back, bristling at the nickname the other woman had used.

"I'm sorry to say you've spent too much time in England. I can't hear the French in your accent at all."

Fleur was about to launch into an angry tirade in French when Kathleen raised her hand.

The old Veela stared at her appraisingly and Fleur turned away from her sharp gaze. Her blue eyes always seemed to see things that Fleur didn't want seen. Finally, the woman said, "I don't know how much of a carpenter you'd make considering how many chairs and tables of mine you like to break, so we'll start small."

Now the blonde's routine included whittling and carving wood into spoons. Fleur also helped Kathleen finish the roof and outer structure of the house. She'd never used magic to build like that before and she actually enjoyed the work, a mix of spells and manual labor. Kathleen told her she could paint the house if she wanted but the younger Veela declined. She liked the unfinished look of it.

She spent more time in the library reading through the psychology and philosophy books, and she tried to be more open with Raquel. The healer told her that Fleur needed a little more structure, so at least one of her weekly visits was a more formal session in a small office next to the library. As for the other visits, given that Fleur was taking a more active role in their talks, the healer let her decide how those happened, even if she didn't always give her notice about when. But if Fleur felt like a walk or wanted to share a meal instead, Raquel followed her lead. There was a lot of learning how to redirect her anger towards more productive outlets, and learning other coping strategies when she felt overwhelmed. The healer told her that those feelings were natural, but that she should be striving towards accepting them and letting them go instead of holding on until she exploded.

Fleur didn't know how to explain that she liked the way her anger made her feel more in control but the healer probably knew that anyway so she just nodded her head whenever she heard that advice.

Now that Raquel knew about Hermione, Fleur filled in the rest, including her belief that her mate had a child with someone else. Fleur also shared the smaller details, her hopes and dreams that had built up in her mind after learning she'd bonded with her mate, the little things she loved about her, and her pain at knowing she wasn't going to get to learn everything else. Her mate's new partner would have that privilege.

The healer assigned readings, and other meditative and physical training meant to strengthen her mind and body. Raquel also suggested that Fleur start a journal. The Frenchwoman laughed at the suggestion at first. She had written many letters to Hermione in the past that were either unsent or undeliverable, and she had burned them all. But she remembered that writing them had helped to organize her thoughts so she soon filled notebooks with furious rants, affectionate missives, and love-fueled hopes for a future that would never be. She tortured herself endlessly over whatever Hermione had whispered into her neck as they made love that last time. Something told her it had been important but she'd been too lost in the heat and passion between them. Would that night have ended differently if she had heard what was said?

Eventually her writings transitioned to questions about what her future now held, and what she wanted to say to Hermione when she next saw her. She never showed Raquel but she would sometimes talk about what she had written. Scribbles interspersed with neat handwriting, much of it torn out and shredded before meeting a fiery fate. And still other pages she'd left alone to read over later when she could think more objectively. Raquel asked her every once in a while to tell her what love was, and when Fleur answered she would say love was selfless, that only her mate's happiness mattered. The healer would hum noncommittally in response, and Fleur got the feeling Raquel thought she didn't understand love at all.

After those particular talks, Fleur would go to her room and angrily sob until her throat hurt. Raquel was the one who didn't understand. Love was nothing without her mate.

But there were moments when she could feel that she'd made the turn. Her rage-filled outbursts were less frequent. She stopped skipping meals and was eating healthier foods in general, and she started to enjoy that well-worn hiking path as well as the woodcarving she'd taken up. It still all felt so fragile, though. Like at any moment, she could regress to where she was when she first got here. It felt that way because she knew she was getting closer to the next step in her healing. One she didn't know how to make.

*::::*

On an early December evening, she and Raquel were sitting outside in front of a firepit that Fleur had built, with Kathleen's help, behind the house. The weather had already begun to change but the evening was nice enough and she wanted to enjoy as much of the outdoors as she could before winter arrived.

Wearing a warm coat with a blanket over her legs, Fleur laughed at the latest misadventures of Raquel's twins, Ana and Ava.

"I mean, they're almost nine years old. You'd think Ana would know better than to try to cut her own hair."

"I know," replied Fleur with a soft giggle and took a small sip of her water. "But I love that Ava tried to make her feel better by doing the same."

Raquel nodded, putting the bottle of beer that was in her hand onto the ground beside her chair. "They are very empathetic towards each other. But I guess they learned a lesson on this one. I'm leaving their hair lopsided for now so they don't forget."

Fleur grinned and stared into the fire, wondering how her own sister was doing. It was getting close to the winter holiday. Her family would be preparing for the various celebrations. She hoped they were doing well. She thought of Hermione and wondered what she had planned. Her heart sank a little but she breathed through it and concentrated on Raquel. Then she noticed movement in the corner of her eye and looked up. She smiled.

"Kathleen is coming," Fleur said.

"Good! I told her to come during dinner but she's a very busy woman."

They both watched as Kathleen in her full Veela form flew down and landed a short distance away. It was not the first time Fleur had seen her in this form but she'd never seen her up close, only seeing her from her bedroom window. The frequency with which Kathleen would arrive and depart from the camp in that form led Fleur to believe that the old Veela must live nearby.

When she was younger, Fleur felt self-conscious over her inability to change form. She was highly skilled in Veela magic, which impressed her grandmother and other full Veela growing up, but in terms of the physical transformation, the most she could do was conjure fireballs with her hands. She eventually got over it, the insecurity going away in her teenage years, only to be replaced with her worry about not feeling that thunderbolt that others felt when identifying their mates. As it turned out, she had been right to worry. She had taken no potion while she was at Hogwarts; her mate had literally been in her arms and she'd failed to identify the connection.

The woman's approach brushed Fleur's dark thoughts away and she took in her wings as she got closer to the light of the fire. They were a beautiful white and charcoal grey, and her talons and beaked face were weathered and ferocious. An instinct to be ready to defend herself came over her but then Fleur noticed the non-descript six-pack Kathleen was carrying and she laughed at the sight of this fiercely regal creature carrying bottles of alcohol.

Kathleen quickly shifted to her human form, waved a hand over herself to adjust her clothing, and Fleur again appreciated how striking the woman looked even in her eighties; the woman must have been gorgeous in her younger years. This was not unusual for a full Veela. While they had an average life expectancy on par with other wizarding people, full Veela did not show physical signs of age the way humans did. Being only part Veela, Fleur would still have a long life but she would look closer to her age, albeit still very beautiful. A few weeks ago, Kathleen told Fleur that her hair hadn't naturally turned silver but that she'd gotten tired of non-magical folks commenting on how young she looked, so she said goodbye to her raven-colored locks about five years ago. Fleur had asked if it helped with the comments and Kathleen laughed and said 'not one bit'.

The old Veela put two logs on the fire and sat in the chair next to Raquel.

"I come bearing gifts. Something from my farm," she said, handing unlabeled bottles to Raquel and Fleur.

"I didn't know you had a farm," said Fleur, opening her bottle and smelling the contents. It was sweet. "Apple?"

"Yup. Hard apple cider. I own an apple farm close to Northampton. I'm also a builder for my clan and other magical folk who want to hire me, but the farm is my main business. We grow a variety of apples for local markets, and also do well with other products like hard cider. This is my personal stash, though. Higher alcohol content than the ones we sell."

"Salud!" said Raquel, who then took a healthy swig from the bottle. "Mm, delicious."

Fleur took a small sip. It had a nice flavor so she set her water glass down, and drank a little more from the bottle. Kathleen looked pleased with their reactions and settled into her chair, further describing her orchards and the surrounding land she'd purchased in her late twenties.

The three women joked and shared stories for another hour. Fleur learned Kathleen was from the Nedribyr clan, a small offshoot of the Vestbyr clan, that had settled in the Adirondacks in New York in the early eighteenth century. The Delacours were also an offshoot of the Vestbyr clan, although older than the Nedribyr, and Fleur felt a new kinship with Kathleen. With only one other clan in Canada, the Veela communities around the world agreed to leave the rest of the United States and Canada neutral territory with no more clan settlements, though individual Veela could live wherever they liked. The dwindling of the clans that had migrated from Europe to Mexico and Central and South America in the sixteenth century had led to consolidation into larger umbrella families over the years; Raquel's clan in Querétaro was one of these. Despite the relatively small number of clans in this part of the world, many individual Veela lived here due to job opportunities and their mates, taking advantage of the convenience of portkeys and a reliable international floo network, and would go home to their clans for gatherings and other clan business. Some of the older clans in Europe were having trouble accommodating these lifestyle changes by the younger generation, but the Delacours were determined to take the lead in demonstrating that clan unity could remain strong even with members spread across the world.

As what tended to happen with tipsy tongues, conversation turned to more personal topics. Raquel joked about her husband Tim. After she had explained to him about who Veela were and the power of their thrall, he was intimidated and self-conscious about sex with her, which led to a brief, frustrating delay in their bonding. Fleur giggled, and shared how her ex-husband Bill had also been intimidated when they started dating, as did her lovers and dating prospects before him. It was a common misconception about Veela women, that their beauty and ability to magically attract others translated to their being highly sexual beings. Veela were definitely more comfortable and confident about sex and sexuality but that did not necessarily mean their sexual prowess was greater on average than other beings. She grew silent after sharing that tidbit about Bill with the two women, not willing to talk about Hermione and how her mate had been different than the others. Raquel knew about Hermione now but Kathleen didn't, and she wasn't ready to share that with the old Veela yet. She noticed how Kathleen engaged in the conversation, getting Raquel to share more about her love life before Tim, deftly avoiding the spotlight on her own history. It seemed the two of them had more in common than an ancestral clan.

Fleur smiled while Raquel talked, and her thoughts strayed back to Hermione and how the bookworm never saw her as anything but herself. She'd forgotten what that felt like in the time after she left Hogwarts. Once she made the decision to move to England, she threw herself into her new job, dating others and then getting involved with Bill. Focused on these things, she managed to push away her thoughts and feelings for the brunette far from her mind and heart. So successful was she in this effort, she'd convinced herself that there had been nothing special about the girl, that the brunette had just been a pleasant distraction from the stresses of the tournament. But then Hermione showed up at Shell Cottage. In those weeks under the same roof, Fleur could tell how differently she felt around Hermione compared to Bill. Her heart longed for her in ways she never felt with him. She remembered all the things about this bright, beautiful young woman that had attracted her in the first place, and realized how much she loved her.

The younger witch had never shown herself to be intimidated by Fleur's heritage. Not during their time together at Hogwarts, not during the weeks at the cottage, and not during their one night together. The moment Fleur's thoughts moved to that passionate night she felt a pang of jealousy burn the inside of her chest, jealous over Hermione's current partner. And as what had been happening lately whenever she thought about Hermione with her chosen partner, a question nagged at her mind, something that she had been too embarrassed to ask about during her previous talks with Raquel.

Would she be able to sense her mate's pleasure?

She could barely feel Hermione while she waited in England and nothing she felt during that time indicated her mate had gotten involved with someone else. Later when she got to the camp and felt the stronger connection, Fleur knew Hermione would not be in any condition or mood for physical intimacy for several weeks after giving birth but she was on edge after that waiting for it to happen and so relieved when she didn't sense it. Then Hermione moved. And then Fleur took the potion which dulled the connection. Even if she wasn't taking the potion, she still likely wouldn't be able to feel anything now due to the fact that Hermione moved away. But what about when Fleur left the camp and went to be near her mate as her instincts demanded? Would she feel it then? Would she be able to endure it? It would surely drive her mad.

Her mother and grandmother had not talked about sex with a bonded mate in any great detail. They used flowery descriptions about it being the ultimate expression of a bonded pair's love that would surpass every other sexual experience she'd ever had. But what was actually felt? That was what Fleur needed to know now that she was in this situation. Was the lovemaking that powerful in the beginnings of the bond because each could feel the other's love or was there also something else related to the early form of this connection? She could feel Hermione's pain but could she feel other physical sensations like arousal? Considering that she and Hermione would never strengthen the bond to the point where the sharing of emotions faded, it was a legitimate concern and something she needed to prepare for if true. Fleur figured she should ask now and blame the cider if the others decided to laugh at her.

"Is it possible to know when your mate is with… I mean, do you feel when they…"

Even in firelight with the darkness surrounding them, she was sure the women could see her bright red face. Fleur pursed her lips, hoping Raquel understood what she was asking.

"No," answered Raquel kindly. Fleur turned to Kathleen, and the woman shook her head discreetly but didn't offer anything more. "Some of us can feel their pain as part of our bond, which is helpful for our protective instincts and thankfully this part of the bond never goes away, even after the emotion sharing fades. I probably wouldn't be able to travel anywhere if I couldn't tell Tim was safe or not. But as far as other physical sensations, no. In the early stages of the bond, we feel their love and happiness, and those feelings do coincide with those times of pleasure but not in a way for us to distinguish the cause if we're not there with them."

"What Raquel means is, when they were newly bonded she couldn't tell when Tim was jerking off by himself," Kathleen added.

Fleur laughed at Kathleen's bluntness, with Raquel joining in good-naturedly.

"And thank goodness for that. I liked my solo time back then, too. I still do. Here's to the solo orgasm," Raquel said, holding up her bottle of cider in salute.

All three women burst out laughing, and the worry in Fleur eased. Not only would she not know when Hermione was being intimate with her partner, her mate would not know when Fleur decided to indulge in a release of her own. Not that she was in the mood for that any time soon. And she was thankful the two older Veela addressed her concern without making her feel like an idiot for asking. They really did have her best interest at heart.

*::::*

"What does love mean to you, Fleur?"

Fleur groaned. Sometimes she really hated Raquel.

The two Veela were on their second loop around the hiking path. It was freezing but she was too restless to sit in an office and much preferred glaring at the trees while she walked because it meant she didn't have to face the healer's knowing gaze.

"Since I never seem to give you the right answer, why don't you tell me?" Fleur huffed as she stepped over a thick branch.

Raquel had been behind her but had apparently sped up because she was now walking beside her. "I'm not asking for a textbook definition," the woman huffed, panting slightly. "We both know and feel what love is. The care for another person's well-being, their happiness becoming our happiness. Our love is completely in sync with our protective instinct to want our mates to be safe and happy. And we both know how Veela exalt the mated bond. What I've been trying to get you to think about is what you think your love will look like when you leave here."

Fleur increased her pace to pull ahead of the other woman and called back with her rote answer.

"Love should be self-sacrificing, of course. It should be completely selfless."

Raquel surprised her when she continued with this line of questioning instead of abandoning it after Fleur's usual response.

"Do you really think that's something to aspire to?"

"Isn't it? My want for her, my desire for my own happiness, it's all selfish. I just need to accept that she is not mine but I can still be her protector. I can be there for her in every other way."

"Accepting the loss of her, yes, but the rest of it… Is that really how you think you should express your love? By being her lackey? With no regard for your own self-worth? Do you think that's what your love would have looked like had she chosen you? Do you think I sacrifice everything I want out of life, my own ambition, my very self, in order to make Tim happy?"

"No, but –"

"Love and healthy relationships indeed involve compromise and sometimes sacrifice, but not to the extent where you give up any expectation for respect and consideration from your partner. Just because our love as bonded Veela doesn't have the second-guessing and self-doubt that plagues others, that doesn't automatically make us perfect romantic partners for our mates. We still have to work on communication and we still make mistakes and argue. Thankfully we have the early stage of the bond which helps a mated pair better understand each other as the bond strengthens. All relationships require work, familial ones, romantic ones, friendships, and they're a two-way street. I'm not saying we aren't selfish. All creatures are capable of selfishness. But for this, I think you're mistaking love and respect for oneself as selfishness. It's not selfish to want your own happiness. It's also not selfish to want her. Maybe for those humans who only think of themselves and not the happiness of the person they want. But we are Veela. Our want for our bond mates is a natural instinct and an intrinsic part of our love for them, and yes, we sincerely want their happiness."

"What good is wanting her if I can't have her? I'll never be happy without her. There is no happiness for me now," Fleur snapped, noticing that she had slowed down while Raquel had been speaking which allowed the healer to catch up with her again.

Raquel huffed, muttering something under her breath about needing a chancla, and then blindsided her with her next questions.

"Why did you take that potion, Fleur? Did you even want a mate?"

"I- I did –" Fleur cringed at the lack of certainty in her words.

"Your actions say otherwise. You took that potion to avoid knowing who they were."

"I didn't want to hurt Bill –"

"You've already told me that was your reason. And I believe you. You didn't think it fair to hurt someone who got attached to you after you found your mate, which explains the nature of your early romances. And you also said you broke things off with Hermione back in school because you were getting too attached –"

"I also said she deserved more, and I didn't want to be the reason she spent the last of her school years tied down to a long-distance relationship… and okay, yes, it was getting more serious than I was ready for." Fleur was flustered by the interruptions and the questions. She didn't like the way Raquel was pushing her. She decided to walk faster again, hoping the pace would get Raquel to talk less. Unfortunately, Raquel kept up with her.

"You were afraid of committing to a young woman you had feelings for so you broke her heart and left her. Within several months you started dating Bill, and when it got serious, you stayed with him even after you realized he wasn't your one. But instead of just choosing to reject your mate if you ever found them, you went even further. You decided the best way to avoid hurting Bill was to magically suppress an important part of your identity, and then you were unfaithful and hurt him anyway."

"You go too far, Raquel," growled Fleur, coming to a complete stop and clenching her fists. She glared angrily at the older woman but the healer returned her stare, apparently not done with her hard questioning.

"It's understandable that you would use the possibility of finding your mate as the reason to end a teenage romance. That choice is not unheard of amongst our kind. You ended things with her because a part of you was aware your feelings were deeper than attraction and lust, and that if you made a commitment to her and later found your mate, you knew how deeply it would hurt you both to end it. But when you were with Bill you used the possibility of finding your mate as the reason to make it impossible to find them altogether. That would imply that you felt an even stronger attachment to Bill than the one you felt with Hermione but we both know that wasn't the case. So why take the potion? You'd already proven yourself willing to end an important relationship to avoid hurting a partner in the long run. Why?"

A year ago, if she had been confronted like this, she would've put on her icy mask and walked away without another word. And her flight instinct was telling her to do that very thing, but she had promised to be more honest with herself and with Raquel.

"Circumstances were different when Bill and I got serious. What I felt for him was not as strong as what I felt for Hermione while I was at Hogwarts, but I thought I could be happy with him. I did love him in my own way, and I honestly did want to avoid hurting him. But that wasn't the only reason for the potion. I also wanted things to be stable, not up in the air with this unknown mate hanging over our heads, which seemed so unimportant compared to what we were up against. The war was upon us and I had chosen to stay and fight. A mate would've been a distraction when there were more important things at hand…"

Fleur felt a hollow grow in her stomach.

"But also," she continued in a strangled voice barely above a whisper, "A part of me didn't think we would win… what was the point of searching for my mate when there was so little hope we'd live long enough to enjoy our bond. When I researched how to modify the potion, not once did I view taking it as a great sacrifice. It seemed the rational thing. A mate was a remote possibility that I didn't need, and they would be better off without me, whoever they were. So, I settled for what I had. Bill was a good man and marrying him would make it easier to get papers in order to stay where I needed to be to fight. I reasoned that was enough and that I should enjoy what I had while there was still time. I wasn't thinking about what would happen after the war was over… I didn't know… I didn't know…"

Fleur trailed off, feeling very drained at her admission. Her reasons weren't anything mind-blowing or earth shattering but she was ashamed just the same. Convenience and resignation. That was what it had boiled down to.

"Why do you think you made that choice to sleep with her after all of that?"

"Because I loved her," said Fleur helplessly, throwing her hands up, wanting to take a stick and smash it against a tree. "It was selfish and reckless. After everything I'd done, the choices I made to settle my life… I was married and torn over my feelings, and I should've more carefully considered the ramifications. But holding her that night, all I could think about was that what she said was right; that night could've been our only chance. And I just loved her so much, I got carried away by my fear of losing her. I thought I could have that memory of her, and give her that of me. I just had no idea she was my chosen… But even not knowing, our night together was beautiful. Passionate. I wish our bonding had happened in a different way, but I don't think I can fully regret that night."

"And after you bonded, you didn't notice the change in her scent? It's true, the change in our non-Veela bond mates can take hours, sometimes even a day, but she didn't leave the cottage until two days later, right? I talked with Anitra and we agreed the potion you were taking should not have affected your olfactory system."

"You're right. It didn't," Fleur replied with a heavy sigh. After a non-Veela was bonded, in addition to slowing down the aging process to match the rate of aging in the bonded Veela, there was also a change in the non-Veela's natural scent. The bonded Veela's scent changed, too, though it was a more subtle one. This scent was something only noticeable to Veela when they were within their personal space. It served as proof the bond had been sealed and also as a warning. Repercussions were severe for any Veela who pursued someone else's bond mate. "I noticed no difference when I was around my mother and sister or other Veela and their bond mates. With Hermione, I think it was because I was in a daze. Distracted by my guilt, and confused by my actions. I needed space to think things over. And she was angry with me, too. I just never got close enough after our night to notice her scent. Then she was gone."

"Let me ask you this – what do you think would've happened if you hadn't forgotten to take the potion? After all the thinking you said you needed to do, what do you think you would have done?"

This was something that Fleur had examined ad nauseum and she had a ready answer.

"I still would have chosen her. Before the potion wore off, I was feeling guilty, as I said. But I also knew that I had given her my heart. I wasn't intimate with Bill after that night with her. We kissed in that chaste way couples do, and I still slept in the same bed, but whenever he tried to escalate to something more, I always thought of an excuse. It was wrong of me to not come clean with him right away. I was waiting for her return. I wanted to talk with her and apologize for letting that night end in ambiguity. I wanted to know if she felt what I felt. I was afraid that her feelings had changed. Blowing up my marriage without knowing for sure… I know, I know. Again, so much selfishness and fear. But the way things were going that month as I thought things over, I know I would have chosen her."

Raquel hummed and nodded. "And you've already told me what happened after you felt the bond for the first time."

"Yes, I didn't handle it well at all," Fleur said. Instead of confessing to Bill immediately, she chose to wait a little longer for Hermione to return but it got harder to come up with reasons for why she suddenly moved into the guest room, sleeping in the bed Hermione had used, and why she would only let Bill kiss her on the cheek. They fought often over that month and they were both miserable until she realized she couldn't postpone ending things with him any longer.

"Listen to me, Fleur Delacour," Raquel said, taking Fleur's hand. The Frenchwoman looked down at their joined hands and then looked up into patient eyes. "We all make stupid mistakes to avoid pain, and avoid hurting others. And we also minimize things that actually mean a great deal to us in order to prioritize something we deem more important. You did the best you could in a terrible, stressful situation. A situation where lives were on the line. And you held fast to the bit of happiness you had with Bill, so in a way the potion was like fortifying your rear defenses in order to face the threat in front of you."

Fleur was frustrated and angry, and still she laughed at that last sentence. Raquel always knew how to phrase something to help ease the tension.

"It's not your fault that you didn't recognize Hermione as your mate at Hogwarts. You were both so young, all of those hormones and heightened emotions… You have to be kind and forgive yourself for that. And you have to forgive yourself for taking the potion. Or at least, accept that it's something you can't take back. It's done. You have to move forward to what's next. Have you spoken with Kathleen?"

Fleur scoffed and let go of Raquel's hand. Here it was. She knew there was a reason Kathleen was here.

"She's more than a caretaker, isn't she?" Fleur asked.

"Her story is not mine to tell, but she's here, she's part of this, and she's willing to share when you're ready to listen."

*::::*

The healer didn't visit again until after the holidays and Fleur appreciated the break. Kathleen spent New Year's Eve at the house and the two of them celebrated the arrival of the year 2000 over cheesecake and champagne. When Raquel resumed her visits on the third day of the new year, she was surprised when the healer shared some news.

"Someone new is coming to the camp. Anitra and I debated on whether to send her somewhere else but in the end we both decided that you could handle the presence of someone going through their own struggles. She is unbonded, so it's not the same, but she's hurting and angry. Give her space at first. I'll leave it to you to decide how to break up the household chores."

The next day, with a thick blanket of snow on the ground, Fleur's new housemate arrived. Kathleen introduced them before promptly leaving the two alone. Her name was Vanessa Alarie. When they shook hands in greeting, Fleur could tell through her scent that the woman wasn't a full Veela but she couldn't be sure if she was half or quarter or something else. What she did know was that she was an American and appeared to be in her late twenties. As was characteristic of Veela women, Vanessa was beautiful. She had honey-brown eyes which reminded Fleur of Hermione, and her dark brown hair bounced in relaxed curls down to her shoulders. Alarie was a familiar Veela name and she wondered if Vanessa was part of the Alarie clan in France, who were close allies of the Delacours, and had been for the last few centuries. Fleur hoped Vanessa would talk about her family and what brought her here but the Veela only rolled her eyes and marched up the stairs to choose a bedroom.

The woman had a large chip on her shoulder. Aside from Rachel, Vanessa wouldn't talk to Fleur or Kathleen during the first couple of weeks except to belittle the process and express her outrage that her family had made her come. Fleur empathized but was also annoyed by Vanessa's habit of ignoring the few chores she assigned to her, as well as breaking furniture. The Frenchwoman felt a little bad at the reminder of her own childish behavior, but Kathleen told her not to worry about it while they both repaired the things Vanessa broke.

The silent treatment didn't last long. There wasn't really much to do during a snowed-in winter and Vanessa gradually opened up about her background. The woman was like her, a quarter-Veela. Her mother, a quarter-Veela from a Nigerian clan, met her mate on a visit to New York, a quarter-Veela man from the Alarie clan. He was the charms professor at Ilvermorny and Vanessa's mother opened a dance studio for magical children too young to go off to the magical boarding schools. In terms of why Vanessa was there at the camp, Fleur didn't know, but she could see how the other woman left her visits with Raquel in frustration. For the healer's part, Raquel continued to urge Fleur to have patience with the heartbroken Veela.

One night in late January, after Fleur managed to convince Vanessa to have dinner with her in the dining room instead of taking a plate of whatever Fleur had made up to her room, the Veela finally shared her story.

Vanessa lived in New York City working as a clerk in the Magical Congress, and had met her mate, a non-magical man named Samuel, in a theater during an intermission. They connected over their love of the stage and she knew immediately that he was her one but she also knew it would be a shock for him to learn of the magical world and to find out about Veela and their mates. They dated for a few months, happily going to the theater and trying out various restaurants. Samuel fully respected her wish to wait before sleeping together, and Vanessa admitted he was actually quite wonderful about not putting pressure on her, but with her romantic history (she had been unwilling to lie or mislead him about her past), their discussions about where their relationship was going kept hitting a wall when he could tell she was holding something back.

Eventually, he wanted a frank conversation about what was going on. Vanessa knew she had to be honest about who she was and what they were to each other. She had felt so confident in his understanding nature, she told him everything. And she was shocked by his rejection of the magical world and her Veela background. She'd gone to her parents completely shattered. There had been some debate about whether to obliviate his memory of that conversation but Vanessa steadfastly refused. She trusted him to keep it a secret. Once she ensured her family would leave him alone, Vanessa returned to her apartment, and began a downward spiral of drinking and one-night stands. She lashed out at work and started acting out in public in ways that risked violating the secrecy statute. After a very public scene at a nightclub just after Christmas where Vanessa had used her thrall to attract a throng of suitors, only to cause a brawl when she said she'd only take home the best of them, her parents demanded she go to a seclusion camp.

Fleur listened with rapt attention. Her heart ached for Vanessa but at the same time she envied the fact that the woman wasn't bonded. The other Veela would be able to fall in love with someone else and while it wouldn't ever be as perfect as it would've been with her mate, she could get over her feelings for Samuel.

They shared many wine-filled conversations after that. Talks full of laughter and scandal over Vanessa's youthful exploits at Ilvermorny and in the years after she graduated, but Fleur never felt comfortable sharing the full story of what had happened with her own mate. She was still ashamed of what she had done and she enjoyed the distraction that Vanessa provided. She liked her flippant attitude about not needing a mate and how much fun they could have without them.

In the middle of February, Vanessa convinced Fleur to leave the camp to go with her for a night out in New York City. Fleur transfigured some clothes into a tight-fighting black dress and heels, and she swept her hair up into a tight bun. She glanced down at her hands. Her vanity led her to heal every callus that she'd earned over the last several months, but her hands still had a stronger, rougher look. In the mirror she noted her more defined arm muscles thanks to her work with Kathleen, chopping wood, and her other physical training. She idly wondered if Hermione would like her more toned physique.

As Vanessa watched Fleur apply her makeup, the woman chattered on. "An Alarie and a Delacour out partying, it only makes sense, right? I've never been to Europe, you should show me around France, wouldn't that be a blast? All of the usual Veela rites, like the First-Year Offering and Name Day Ceremony, those happened with my mom's clan. I really should travel more. Samuel going his own way is a blessing in disguise, don't you think? I can do whatever I want now."

Fleur knew leaving the house was against the rules, and in the back of her mind she worried about leaving the Veela boundary which would likely alert Raquel and Kathleen. But more worrisome was that it would allow Hermione to sense her again. She went anyway. She wanted to be like Vanessa, she didn't want to love Hermione, she just wanted to forget everything for a little while.

Vanessa took hold of Fleur and they apparated to an alley next to a club. There was a long line that went around the corner but they walked right up to the men at the door. Vanessa amped up her thrall, and they were promptly let inside. Once in the club, Fleur had one drink but refused others, somehow knowing she needed to stay sober. They danced and at first it was exhilarating. The lights, the heat of the bodies on the dancefloor, for a short time Fleur was able to forget. Then she noticed how Vanessa didn't cut back on her thrall. More and more sets of eyes were on Vanessa as they were dancing or taking a breather at the bar. For her part, Fleur maintained strict control of her thrall and turned away all who hit on her. She also ran interference with Vanessa's more handsy suitors. When it got to be too much, and she could tell a fight was brewing, Fleur pulled Vanessa out of there and apparated back to the house. It was just before midnight, and Fleur was glad they returned at a semi-decent hour.

Walking an unsteady Vanessa up the stairs and down the hall towards her room, Fleur was surprised when the woman suddenly pressed her up against the wall.

"Our mates don't want us but we can still have fun," Vanessa said, her words slurring together.

Vanessa leaned in and captured her lips. For a split second, Fleur was tempted to reciprocate. But there were many reasons why it was a bad idea, and she turned her head and pushed the woman away.

"I can't."

The woman was obviously drunk, and that would have stopped Fleur no matter what, but that wasn't what she was thinking of when she pushed Vanessa away. The only one she wanted to kiss was Hermione. Fleur could've told her about what being bonded and in love with her mate meant to her, except Vanessa looked upset and a little hurt, and would likely not be receptive. It would be better to talk in the morning, so the Frenchwoman took her arm, helped her into bed, and left the room.

After Fleur washed up, and was lying on her bed in the darkness, tears fell down her face. While she regretted leaving the camp tonight, she did end up learning something. She learned she could never live a life like what Vanessa had shown her. Life without care or responsibility, taking advantage of others. Given her rejected status, Fleur knew that no Veela would look down on her for taking a lover. But in her heart, the blonde only saw it as a betrayal of her love for Hermione and her bond, and not something she could ever choose.

She needed to stop with the excuses and distractions, and put her focus back on her healing and training. She had a duty to return strong and healthy, to protect her mate and her mate's family. And she hoped that whoever it was that Hermione had chosen, that they would never fail the witch as she had.

The next morning, Fleur went to Vanessa's room. It was empty. She went downstairs and was not surprised to find Raquel waiting for her in the living room.

"Vanessa's gone?" Fleur asked as she sat down on the couch next to Raquel.

The healer nodded. "Did you have fun last night?"

Fleur scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"For a little while I did. It was a nice reminder that the world is still turning. But in the end it wasn't really what I wanted," Fleur replied.

"I'm sure I don't have to remind you that this isn't a bed and breakfast. You can't just come and go as you please. If you're done, if you want to leave, give Kathleen two weeks to slowly lower the ward and then you can go."

"No. I want to stay. Leaving last night was stupid and I hope I haven't worried Hermione."

"It's probably fine," answered Raquel. She sounded more relaxed now that she knew Fleur planned to stay. "It's unlikely she felt anything given the time difference. She was probably asleep."

Fleur stiffened; her anger immediate.

"I thought you agreed not to seek her out," she said through gritted teeth.

"I didn't seek her out," Raquel calmly replied. "Whether you like it or not, Hermione Granger is a famous witch and her reemergence in the wizarding world earned a couple of headlines over the summer. I didn't say anything about it after you told me who she was because, well, I didn't think you wanted updates yet. Do you want to know where she is?"

After thinking it over, Fleur nodded, her heart hammering in her chest. Reemergence? Headlines?

"Surprisingly enough, that British paper the Daily Prophet had a very tastefully written article which I read. It said she's in England working at the Ministry. She moved there from wherever she was in early July. No other personal info, just a bit about the department she's in, and a whole lot more about her part in the war, or what's known anyway."

Fleur was stunned. She went back. At Shell Cottage, she knew that the young witch's wounds were deeper than the cuts on her body. However, Fleur's first thoughts after reading the letter to Harry were not about what Hermione needed; they were about the rejection and what she had lost. As the weeks dragged on at the camp, as she pondered the happiness she sensed in her mate, she came to realize that Hermione had had her own grief and trauma from which to recover. The witch needed her own form of seclusion and that's what her letter was trying to explain to Harry. The fact that she'd returned to her home country a little over one year after she left spoke volumes about how far Hermione really had come.

"Good for her," Fleur whispered.

Raquel let her quietly absorb the news before speaking again.

"I had hoped Vanessa would stay for a bit longer at the camp, but she has a strong support system at home, she didn't really need to be here."

"Does that mean you think she'll be okay? Last night… she kissed me and I turned her down."

"I know, I was here when she woke up and she told me. And she said to tell you that she was sorry and not to worry about her. So yes, I think she'll be all right, she just needs time. I know it didn't look like it, but she was coming to accept her mate's choice. I'm predicting less reckless behavior in her future but we'll see."

Fleur smiled, thinking about the reckless behavior last night at the club. She hoped Raquel was right about Vanessa being on the path to acceptance. Then she thought about her own path. Back in December, she could feel a loosening in her chest. Her talks with Raquel, the questions she'd asked herself in her writings about what her future now held, part of her knew the change was happening, that she was getting closer to making the leap. But in the midst of pressing down on the metaphorical springboard with all of the accumulated work she had done to make herself strong and ready, she resisted the upward movement, hitting pause on the momentum and looking for a way off. Vanessa's arrival had been just the thing. She allowed herself to be sidetracked, hoping to find a shortcut into the future without actually needing to make the effort to get there. It was ironic that the cowardly act of placing Vanessa in the way of her progress actually ended up providing Fleur with the clarity and bravery she needed to push off and leap into the unknown.

"Raquel… I've been afraid to let go of the future with Hermione that I wanted. And it put me in this limbo with this overwhelming weight of in-between pushing me down and keeping me from moving on. But I'm ready to think about what comes next. I'm ready to think about how my future without her will be."

*::::*

Time moved quickly after that. Once Fleur let go of what she wouldn't have, she became excited over what she could still accomplish with her life. The war was over. Her family and her mate were alive and well. There were a lot of things to be thankful for. She remembered her ambition to be an auror and wondered if she could find a position in the British Ministry. Harry would surely put in a good word for her. The six months ended and that meant no more potion. Instead of dreading it, she welcomed her sense of Hermione. Her anger and jealousy would still occasionally flare up but Raquel and Kathleen assured her that was normal. Her soul would forever long for its mate but living her life without Hermione seemed achievable now.

It was the first week of March when she finally decided to ask Kathleen for her story. She knew why she had put it off for so long. Back when Fleur hadn't accepted Hermione's rejection, it made her angry to see someone who didn't look as broken as she felt. She wasn't ready to face the living proof that there was still happiness to be had without her mate. She much preferred wallowing in her self-hatred and pain.

The woman was levitating a pile of chopped wood to the front porch. Fleur didn't even have to ask. Kathleen looked at her and she knew. She told Fleur to meet her at the hiking path in five minutes. At the appointed time, they met up without a word and Fleur followed her for a few minutes down the well-worn path, their boots crunching on the snow and frozen ground, but then they turned off the path to one she hadn't seen before.

"Don't worry, this one's warded, too," said Kathleen.

After they'd walked for an hour, she saw a fallen log on one side of the path. Kathleen sat down on it and Fleur sat beside her. They were at a slightly higher elevation and had a peaceful view of the forest stretching out in front of them. Somehow she didn't feel as cold as she took in the rolling tree-covered hills, the green of the hemlock trees, the browns of trees that lost their leaves, and the white of the snow on the ground. It was all so serene beneath the blue afternoon sky.

"I grew up wild and curious, so when I went to Ilvermorny, I soaked up as much of the non-magical world as I could from my classmates. I wanted to know everything. But it wasn't enough. After I graduated, I managed to convince my parents to let me enroll in a no-maj college. I could easily shut down my thrall by that point, learned to do it when I was fifteen, so there was no otherworldly allure added to my natural looks, which I suppose were still enough to make people stupid but that's a different story. I preferred women and figured my mate was a woman. You know how sometimes a Veela can sense where they need to be to find their mate? Well, something told me to choose a women's college here in Massachusetts. And I was right, but I didn't know right away. We were both freshmen. She was in one or two of my classes in the first term but I was very much distracted by all the new things to see and experience, we didn't really talk. In the spring term, we had another class together and that's when it hit me like an iron skillet across the head. Her name was Elaine Collins."

The young Veela opened her mouth to speak but Kathleen raised a hand to stop her.

"This is my story, little Brit, hold your horses. She was vivacious, intelligent, she was perfect. We became fast friends. Over time, I confided in her about being Veela. It didn't scare her at all, not even when I showed her what I looked like fully transformed. Elaine loved learning about me, and was delighted whenever I showed her magic. I guess I liked impressing her, too. By our third year, I knew I needed to tell her that she was my mate. We were always together, always affectionate and it was obvious we felt more than friendship, but I kept putting it off. You see, she told me she was engaged to be married. Something about family alliances and old friendships. And as much of a campus terror as she was, and oh boy the stories I could tell you about her, she was also very dutiful seeing how she was the youngest of four, and the only daughter. Her parents were well-to-do, strict, and they had pretty rigid views about what a woman's role should be. They let her have college as long as she went to the women's college closest to them but nothing more than that. She was expected to return and marry the man they approved of, and for all of Elaine's fire, she would never go against her family.

"In the middle of our senior year, I finally bit the bullet and told her. She cried in my arms and admitted she loved me, too, that she didn't even like men, but that she couldn't be with me. I begged. I told her that with Veela our relationship would be accepted, that we could even have children together through my magic. We could travel and do all the things she wanted to do. I promised to never hold her back. But it was no use. Her wedding date was set for two weeks after graduation. Just before graduation, she came to me. I told her we shouldn't because it would seal the bond. But I loved her. I wanted her so damn much. I also thought maybe it would be a good thing. Maybe if we were bonded, once she could feel our connection, it would make her see that marrying him would be a mistake. I was wrong."

Kathleen grew silent and Fleur could tell the memories were getting to her. She imagined how that must have felt. To knowingly seal a bond without a guarantee. To take the risk only to face the rejection she should've seen coming. Was that what Hermione had felt that night?

"How did she react to the bond?" asked Fleur after it looked like Kathleen was ready to continue.

"Badly," huffed the old Veela. "She'd seen my magic, she'd seen me transform, and she still didn't believe that she would feel me and our bond. She said feeling all that love I had for her was too overwhelming. And she told me she regretted what we did. It killed me to hear it but I also felt her love for me so I stubbornly held on. I rented a room in a boarding house not too far from their home in Northampton and I watched out for her. I visited with her and listened to her complaints about him. He was a good man, he treated her well, but she didn't love him. Sometimes I would try to convince her to run away with me. I spent that whole first year hoping and fantasizing that she would. She didn't. When she told me she was pregnant, I ran. No note to her, nothing. Anitra was the healer at the camp I ended up at."

"How long were you in seclusion?"

"Three years. I was young and angry. I had a hard time letting go of that. When I felt ready to leave, we didn't slowly lower the ward, I just left. I got back to Massachusetts and discovered that Elaine thought I had died. She was completely caught off guard when her sense of me returned in full force, feeling all of my happy feelings of love for her after she'd been mourning and blaming herself for my death for three years. She'd been pregnant when the connection returned and the shock of it… well, let's just say it took a long time for her to forgive that. But she did. And our love remained constant."

"Did you two –"

"Elaine was a faithful wife to him. I'm not saying it didn't get hard, and there were times when we were tempted. Emotionally, lines were crossed left and right. How could they not be when we loved each other as much as we did? But nothing physical."

Fleur was in awe at the tremendous willpower the two would've needed to keep from crossing that final line. She thought over what her choice would be if such a situation arose with Hermione after she went back. She'd already crossed that line before, betraying her own marriage, and she didn't even know Hermione was her mate then. Would she do so again?

"I bought a farm nearby. Traveled every now and then. Sometimes we were close friends, sometimes we were little more than acquaintances. I think what made it so hard was knowing it was fear of disappointing her family or doing something outside the norm that kept her from accepting our bond. It would've been easier to support her if she loved her husband and was happy in her choice. She loved her children, though, so at least there was that."

"And what about companionship? Were you ever with anyone else?"

Kathleen chuckled and shook her head. Fleur gave a curt nod, glad she hadn't offended her, and turned away. She could tell it was easier for the woman to tell her story when Fleur wasn't looking directly at her.

"Her husband died when she was forty-eight, after she'd given him five kids. I thought since her parents had passed on by that time, maybe she would be ready to be with me. But her oldest kids were grown and starting families of their own. Elaine still worried over what they and others would think. It hurt but I made my peace with it years before so I didn't pressure her. The farm was doing really well. I was busy building homes for Veela and other magical folks wanting to settle in the country outside of the big cities. I traveled, too, but I never stayed away for too long. There were a few women I probably could've started something with but I was bonded, I would always love Elaine. You know how it is. Just the thought of touching someone else…

"Anyway, Elaine had a heart attack when she was fifty-four. The bond slowed her aging but it's not a cure-all. Diseases and what-not still affect our mates. She survived but I was with my clan for a visit to Norway, and her family had no way to contact me, so I had no idea anything had happened until a couple of weeks later and I visited the house. It was the worst feeling, knowing I had failed her like that. If I had been with her when it happened, I could've used magic to help. I certainly would've been able to prevent the permanent damage done to her heart. Her kids were taking care of her but they had their own lives, and I told her she was better off with me wiping her ass and bathing her while she recovered rather than scarring her kids with it. I said, screw what anyone thinks about it, I'm moving in. And I did. I called in a healer from my clan and together we were able to facilitate a faster physical recovery. Elaine and I grew close again during this time, worked out a lot of our issues and lingering resentments. When she fully recovered, I got ready to go back to the farm and she asked to go with me."

Fleur gasped, turning to Kathleen. "She chose you."

The woman nodded, tears falling down her face.

"Elaine finally allowed herself to love and be happy with me, and her kids were kind. As much as we tried to hide it, they knew what we felt. Her youngest son was inspired to come out, too. In the years after the seclusion camp, I managed to find my own happiness in my work and in supporting Elaine when she let me, but nothing compared to finally being able to love each other the way I always wanted, to take her to my clan and present her as my bond mate in a bonding ceremony. No need for rings or other symbols of belonging because we knew what we had. We'd been bonded since we were twenty-one years old. Our bond strengthened and solidified the way it was meant to. She made fun of me when I complained about no longer being able to feel her happiness. She'd say, 'Look at my face, Kath. I'm happy'. And she was. We both were. She was a taskmaster on the farm, too, let me tell you. She's the one who came up with that recipe for the extra strength hard cider. She was that fiery girl again that I knew in college. But her health was always a concern after that heart attack. My mate took her last breath in my arms when she was seventy-two, her weakened heart wouldn't let her have more, and I had to mourn the loss of her for a second time. It's been ten years and not a day goes by that I don't think of her. But life moves on. I've got my work, I'm still close with her kids. In fact, a couple of the grandkids work for me on the farm. I'll leave it all to them and their kids when I go."

"You took her name."

"She was my wife," said Kathleen. Her voice was thick with emotion but her eyes were steel, letting Fleur know in no uncertain terms that her devotion to Elaine was total.

After another long pause, the other woman cleared her throat and spoke again. "I've never helped out at the seclusion camps before this one; my story was so different from those of unbonded Veela. But then one day Anitra surprised me with a firecall and told me there was a bonded Veela. You. I agreed, but insisted that it had to be here so I could be close to the farm. I also told Anitra and Raquel that I would only tell you my story once you were ready to focus on the part you could take the real advice from because I didn't want to give you some sort of false hope that the same ending would happen for you. Life is twisty. We stumble, we keep going. And we make our own happiness the best way we can. Understand?"

Fleur nodded, taking a deep breath and turning towards the forest view. She reached for Kathleen's hand and gripped it tightly, understanding perfectly.

*::::*

"What is love going to look like for you now?" asked Raquel with a knowing smile.

They were in the office next to the library and it was the third week in March. Raquel sat as usual in a plush arm chair and Fleur sat on the couch. The younger Veela smiled back. It had been a while since the healer last asked a version of this question, and she had been expecting it.

"Full. Love in my life will be very full. It'll be loving my family, loving the friends in my life, loving Hermione, and loving myself. When I got here, all I could see were my mistakes, my fear-based choices. I didn't think I deserved to be happy after what I had done. All I wanted was to punish myself. And I thought if I let go and forgave myself, and focused more on me and what I needed in order to find a different kind of happiness, it would mean that my love for her would be less. But it's not. Strangely enough, accepting what's happened has only made my love feel more. Since I'm no longer in a constant fight with my emotions, I feel so much love for her and I welcome it. It feels good."

"You sound hopeful," Raquel said.

"I am. Don't get me wrong. I know I need to be realistic, too…"

The younger Veela sagged a little against the couch and turned to look out the window. While she had hope for her future, a lot of it depended on how Hermione would react to her return. How much would the brunette let her into her life? She was nervous about seeing her again, and there was still guilt over how things ended between them. Fleur had forgiven herself but she wanted her mate's forgiveness, too. She was determined to make amends, and for them to work through it to some form of friendship. All she needed was Hermione to give her that chance.

Glancing at the healer, she saw understanding and encouragement.

"I'll always wish things were different," Fleur said slowly, feeling that ache in her heart, that longing to be with her mate. "I don't think I'll ever stop feeling jealous of the partner she chose and the life they have… but I'm getting better at managing those feelings and not letting them control me. I do want her to be happy, and I will support and protect her, but I will do so in a way that doesn't sacrifice my whole self. She is my bond mate and I love her, but I need to find my own happiness without her. It'll be hard, I know it will. Unforeseen challenges, maybe other feelings I haven't fully dealt with yet, but I'm ready to face those things. I think I'm ready to leave."

"I think so, too, Fleur. I've seen the change in you. There will always be turmoil and the back-and-forth tug of the bond, but you're centered now. I know you can do this," said Raquel with an approving smile. "And no matter what happens after you go back, I'll always be a firecall or a phone call away whenever you need to chat or vent or just need someone to be silent with."

*::::*

Fleur was out by the firepit, throwing in herbs and small notes into the flames, following each with a blessing spoken in Veelan. It was late, and cold, but she was learning to like the cold. Especially on clear nights like this.

She noticed Kathleen's approach a few minutes ago but the old Veela stayed back, aware that she had arrived late to the ritual and therefore could not participate.

After she finished the ritual, the woman stepped closer to her and asked, "Did a cousin turn one?"

Fleur smirked when she looked at Kathleen. The older woman's eyes twinkled, letting her know the woman was well aware who the ceremony was for. A few days after Kathleen had shared her story, Fleur shared hers. The old Veela knew Hermione had a baby. But she decided to indulge and address the question anyway.

"Hermione's child was born a year ago today. I know they aren't Veela but it still felt right to do the First-Year Offering."

The old Veela hummed and nodded. The woman had said it would be hard at first to see her mate having someone else's children but eventually she would grow to love them because they were part of her mate. Fleur knew Kathleen was right. She felt it when she did the offering. She wanted only good things for her mate's child.

"So, little Brit, you're really ready to leave all this splendor. Anitra told me she didn't think you would stay for very long," said Kathleen. "I talked to Raquel. I'll start lowering the ward tomorrow, and word has been sent to your parents to expect your return in a couple of weeks."

Fleur rolled her eyes at the nickname like she usually did but she was used to it now. She'd grown very fond of Kathleen and she would miss her sense of humor.

"You'll have me for two more weeks, Kathleen Collins," Fleur said with a smirk. "Do you have any last-minute chores for me?"

"I suppose you could carve more of your spoons while you wait for the ward to drop, but I'll be busy taking all of this down and restoring the forest. The extension charms mean we're taking up less space than it looks but there is a lot of work to do."

Fleur looked to the house. It was still unpainted. She thought of the spaces she had filled and the spaces yet to be filled. It was a work in progress, just like her. And now it was going to be torn down. But it didn't make her feel sad. Instead, she felt a sense of renewal. She was going to leave and build something new. New experiences. New things to learn. New spaces to fill.

"Was it your idea to build a house?" Fleur asked.

"Hell yes," replied Kathleen with an irritated huff. "Three years in a hut. I still get cranky thinking about it. Plus, it kept you busy, didn't it?"

Fleur bit back a smile and looked affectionately at the other woman who had done so much for her over the last year.

"Yes, it did." After a short pause, she said, "I'll help you. It'll go faster with two, oui?"

Kathleen laughed and pulled her into a hug. "I'm going to miss you, kid."

The old Veela pulled back, gripped her shoulders with her strong hands, and gave her a hard stare.

In Veelan, she said, "Fleur, daughter of Apolline, may your journey's end find you whole and at peace."

Fleur smiled and put her own hands on the older woman's shoulders. "I wish you the same, Kathleen, wife of Elaine."

Kathleen's expression softened and her next words were gentle.

"It's not all going to be roses. Sometimes you'll get so mad you'll want to scream and throw a fireball to burn everything down. Just try to remember that your love is a strength, not a weakness. A part of her will always need you, even if she tries to push you away. Even if you have to stay away. But it's okay if you need a break from time to time. Travel. Go places and do things. That's what I did when it became too much. And if you ever need to go somewhere for a few weeks, or years, and you don't know where to go, I've got plenty of room at the farm."

"Really?" asked Fleur breathily, her throat tightening with emotion, tears welling in her eyes.

"Really. And while you're there you can help sell that pile of spoons and figures you carved."

Fleur let out a laugh and wiped her eyes. "I did more than spoons, remember? Who fixed that trim on the south side of the house, hm? Who carved the detail on those chair backs? I don't know, maybe I'll keep my visits short so you won't be able to get any more free labor out of me."

"Fine. Short visits. I'll hold you to it," Kathleen replied with a smile. They let go of each other's shoulders and Kathleen started walking towards the house. She called back, "Bright and early, little Brit. Be ready for some real work."

Fleur watched her friend go into the house, turned back to the fire, and gazed up at the stars. Even though the young Veela felt more at peace with what had happened, there was still some trepidation over how her mate would respond. What would the witch say? Would she yell? Would she close the door in her face? Would she forgive her?

It had been almost two years since they'd seen each other, almost two years since they'd bonded. Letting the ward slowly drop over the next two weeks would give Hermione time to adjust to the renewed connection. And once she arrived in France, the closer proximity would allow them to sense each other's emotions again. To give each of them the opportunity to get used to those sensations, her plan was to stay at her parents' house for a week. After that, she would go to Hermione and apologize.

There was so much to say to the witch, so much to make up for. But it wasn't just about what Fleur had to say. Her mate had gone through her own healing, did the work to find her own peace. Maybe what Hermione needed from her was a chance to get some things off her chest, to get closure. And if that was the case, then Fleur was determined to hear her out and give Hermione whatever she needed, even if that meant not being in her life at all.

---

A/N: Back to Hermione's side of the pond in the next chapter.

Thanks again to all of you for reading and commenting. It really makes my day to know you're enjoying the story.

:

ceMR: Thank you so much. I love Fleur, as you can see with this enormous chapter lol. Answers to your questions will come eventually.

Perpetual Nonsense: Turnabout is fair play ;). And exactly, we gotta slog through the sour to get to the sweet. I needed Fleur to really feel it, I didn't want to gloss over her grief. Thanks for reading!

spenlove79: Awww, thanks. I hope you were well rested before reading this behemoth of a chapter lol