Trigger warning: Suicide attempt!

She spent hours under the spray of water, but no matter how she scrubbed, she didn't feel any cleaner. Determined to not think about the situation further, she decided to get an early night - last night's events didn't leave a lot of room for rest, after all.

She woke hours later tangled up in the sheets, an uncomfortable heat between her legs, and vivid images of an erotic dream still in her mind's eye.

Give in, echoed the husky voice of Fleur from the dream. She was bone tired, and past able to hang on. Angry and desperate, she shot up from the bed, pulled on a pair of shoes, and donned a jacket on top of her pyjamas as quickly as she could. Soft, enticing tendrils of her dream still twirled around her and lingered in her mind, making her skin crawl with a strange mix of longing and dread.

Before she could apparate away, she caught a sight of herself in the mirror. She looked a mess, but at least it matched how she felt. She caught a flash of blonde hair from the corner of her eye, and turned to look. The room was empty, but her pulse quickened to that of a cornered mouse facing its end.

This was it. This was the end. She could take no more. With a shaky breath, she squeezed her eyes tight, and turned on the spot, destination clearly in mind.

Fleur woke to a resounding crack ringing through the din of the night. At first, she thought it might be thunder, but while closing the window, she noticed a lone, female figure standing on the shore. A mass of discarded fabric laid at her feet, leaving her in what appeared to be pyjamas. Fleur instantly recognised her - she jumped out of bed, and cautiously made her way downstairs. By the time she got outside, Hermione was steadily making her way into the water, the waves already lapping at her waist. As Fleur looked on, she made her way even deeper, unfazed by the tide pulling her in different directions.

A bigger wave approached, and Fleur held her breath in anticipation of Hermione's reaction. The body of water hit the brunette head on, and as it passed over her, Fleur saw her go under. She didn't resurface. Fleur counted the seconds tensely, but she spied no movement. An ice cold pressure crushed her heart like a vice all of a sudden, and she lurched into action. She charged into the water without a second thought, barely managing to remember to cast a bubble head charm on herself. The water hit her body like a wall as she jumped into the waves, dark, cold, and suffocating. All of the air was forced from her lungs by the shock of it. She struggled to draw a breath from the small, conjured bubble, shivering as she swam close to the bottom. The moonlight illuminated the water a few meters down, and amongst the glittering masses of upset sediment, she spied a wisp of blue and white striped cloth being pushed around by the current. She found her. She had to save her. Her mate.

She dove deeper, and with the aid of a propulsion charm, caught up to her. She grabbed a lifelessly floating wrist in her hand, and pulled. Hermione's body felt like a lead weight, pulling the both of them deeper and deeper out to sea. Fleur struggled to keep her ground, but the currents were too strong. All she could do was to swim to the surface and try to assess their situation. Clutching the unconscious body of her mate to herself, she started for the shore at an angle, utilising propulsion charms at steady intervals. They were quite a ways out, but her determination and the bit of magic brought them to the shore in a short while.

Out on the sandy beach in her soaked nightclothes, Fleur took care to lay Hermione down on the ground gently. Her body was limp, and she appeared entirely unconscious. Fleur muttered a string of curses under her breath as she sprang into action.

"Anapneo!" She cast, and the brunette immediately started coughing up salt water, heaving terribly and emptying her stomach and lungs onto the sand, to Fleur's great relief. She watched Hermione intently, not saying a word. She longed to touch her, to run her hands along her back. To have physical affirmation that she was okay. Her hands hovered inches above Hermione's form, unsure if she could...

"Why did you... save me?" Asked Hermione between raspy breaths. Her voice was hoarse and weak, but accusatory.

"You're my mate." Fleur supplied. Idiot went unsaid, but was clearly implied.

Hermione huffed and plopped back down on her back. For a while, neither of them said a word, just watched the endless skies above. However much Fleur wanted to hear guidance from the heavens, the stars remained eerily silent. The only sound around them was the ambience of the waves lapping at the shore. Hermione pulled her feet up to get her shoes out of the water, but made no further move to get up.

"Why did you try to kill yourself?" Fleur asked, even though she knew the answer, even though she knew she was overstepping.

"You're my mate." Hermione supplied offhandedly. Even though she knew this was coming, Fleur drew in a sharp breath and leaned away from her in horror. Her words felt like a slap to the face, sharp lingering sting and all. The shuffling of wet fabric drew Hermione's attention, and she quickly grew apologetic.

"That came out wrong. I'm sorry. I know… I know it's equally as hard for you, I'm just… I just find I'm not as strong as I believed myself to be."

"Why did you do it here, then? Where you knew I could see? Where you knew I could follow?" Fleur asked, trying to mask her hurt. She didn't wait for an answer, however She shot up, and took a few steps towards the house. She changed her mind mid-stride, stopped and turned around with a sigh. She came face to face with Hermione's dark eyes following her every move.

Did she even think? Did she want me to save her?

"Come, I'll give you a change of clothes."

Both of them knew the offering for what it was - an olive branch. She knew Hermione could just as easily apparate home and change, continue this tense, passive animosity, this tug of war between their wills, but miraculously, she just nodded, and followed. She almost seemed sort of resigned, like the fight got knocked out of her by the waves.

Once inside, Fleur quickly supplied her with a towel, a pair of pants and a long sleeve shirt, and she took the articles of clothing to the bathroom to change quickly. Fleur only cast a drying charm on herself, and quickly magicked together a pot of tea, deliberately not getting hung up on the fact that she knew from the past that it was Hermione's favourite brand. She settled herself on the couch with a blanket, and wrapped her whole body around a steaming mug of the tea, letting the radiating warmth bring life back to her chilled limbs.

It wasn't long before Hermione returned, clad in Fleur's clothes. As she looked at her, a strange, treacherous warmth filled her, somehow more comforting than the heat the mug gave off. Her feelings must have clearly shown in her eyes for Hermione looked at her with a sort of disturbed longing for a millisecond before she cleared her throat and looked away.

Just imagine how easily you could fall into this… How good it would be…

Fleur shook her head, and opted to drink the tea. Hermione sat down in an armchair next to her, looking a bit tense.

"May I?" She asked, motioning for the pot of tea on the coffee table

Fleur nodded, glad to escape having to say something for a moment longer. She watched as Hermione drank the tea and seemed to melt a bit into the armchair.

"Do you love me?" came the first question from Hermione. She was always so full of them, even if it wasn't always clear where they came from or where they led to. Fleur was just grateful that this one, however surprising, was so easy to answer. Easy, yet complicated in a torturous way.

"No."

"No?" She seemed taken aback.

"No. But I could, if you decided you would let me." She added, trying to make Hermione understand. She was Veela. This was how Veela worked. She was sure she had explained it to her multiple times. Had she not listened at all, the stubborn woman? Veela honored the existence of mates, and would mould themselves to fit the other person perfectly.

It was mutually beneficial, even if Fleur despised every second of it. Hermione spoke about wanting her free will. Well, she at least gets to stay herself!

"Would you want me to let myself let you?"

No.

No.

NO.

Fleur remained silent for a time, visibly mulling everything over before she deemed to reply. In the end, she opted to answer with a question.

"That… depends. Would you want to… let yourself?" She asked, guarded

"I… I don't know… There isn't much left to do, is there?" Hermione asked, her voice laced with a hysterical laugh.

"You don't have to do it, if you don't want to."

"I don't know what I want. The only thing I know is, I can't go on like this any longer." Hermione whimpered and buried her face in her hands. Fleur longed to reach out and comfort her, but she settled for leaning closer instead. She didn't want to spook Hermione.

"I mean…" The brunette continued "I only rejected the idea at first because it seemed so unlikely, it was ridiculous. You were happily married to Bill, and we were as good as strangers. I wasn't the kindest to you, even - I called you names and I... And then this… I haven't thought about women that way before you told me… and ever since, I haven't been able to think about anything else but you. Every minute of every day. I hear you in my thoughts, I see you in my dreams, I sometimes… I think I see you when I'm awake, but then I turn and you're not there. And the rejection just… it just stuck, like a bad habit, denying this. I mean, how ridiculous is it, that some… higher power just decided for me. Even if I did like you to begin with, I'd be wary. I don't exactly like divination or talks of fate, any of those things for that matter. I like to be in control."

"And now, you're not, and you feel cheated." Fleur finished for her, forcing her voice to be warm and smooth, like honey. "I know, because that's exactly how I felt ever since I realised it."

Hermione took a long drink of her tea, contemplating what Fleur said.

"I went to talk to Bill." She said, refusing to look at Fleur.

"How is he?" The mix of surprise and pain in Fleur's voice was palpable.

"He's almost catatonic. Fleur, is it because of - is it because of my decision?"

"I don't know. Believe me, if there was information about this kind of situation, we would have come upon it already."

"Do you think if we… if he would recover?"

"Hermione, none of this is your fault. You don't have to feel responsible for him. Don't feel pressured on his behalf."

"I… I'm sorry, it's just too much." Hermione blurted out, slammed the half empty mug on the coffee table, and ran out the door. It slammed loudly behind her, leaving a deafening, ringing silence in its wake. Fleur waited for the inevitable pop of apparition to follow, but it never came. As she went to investigate, she found Hermione curled up into a ball on the front porch, her shoulders shaking with sobs. She approached her cautiously.

"Hermione?"

"Fleur, how can you stand this?" she sobbed, turning to the blonde

"I am Veela. It is in our blood. It does not mean I agree with it or like it, however." she said, and at the curious look Hermione gave her, she decided to elaborate.

"I loved Bill dearly. I chose him because I believed he could be my mate. I never told him one way or another, but when you arrived at Shell Cottage on that fateful day, I knew he wasn't. I saw your broken body, and it immediately clicked. I had to save you. Protect you. All other things were emptied out of my mind, and only you remained, however much I fought against it. And when you asked why I was helping you without question, I answered too honestly. I must apologise for that. I should have handled it much more delicately, but, you see, most of the time, mates are set from their birth. Having already met you, my reaction to seeing you again took me by surprise."

Hermione pondered that for a few moments before replying.

"So something in me fundamentally changed. And made us… mates?"

"I believe so."

"Strange twist of fate, binding you to someone so broken."

Fleur's heart twisted painfully at that. She shuffled closer, daring to put a hand lightly on Hermione's shoulder. An immediate warmth flooded her, and she felt like a wilted plant after heavy rain. It felt wrong, to feel so alive, so right, just when her mate was on the brink of death not an hour ago. She aggressively tried to push it aside, to focus on the problem at hand, yet she revelled in it.

"I do not think you are broken, Hermione. You are like steel. Hardened and resilient. And stubborn." It was strange to talk of Hermione so fondly, so freely, but it was nothing but the truth. She felt it, even though she didn't want to.

The ghost of a smile appeared on Hermione's lips. Fleur removed her hand from her shoulder, and made to stand up. Hermione's eyes followed her, almost pleading her to stay, but she remained silent. Fleur was wary of leaving her alone, but she understood her need to get her bearings. She would stay close enough.

"I'll let you catch your breath - but you're welcome to come back in when you're ready."

"Thank you."

Fleur lingered awkwardly in the doorway, not able to tear her eyes away from the other woman. How close she came to… She shuddered. She was sure they'd both have nightmares for weeks.

"I'll be okay, Fleur." Hermione supplied, and Fleur could see she was trying to put up a brave front. But also that she was earnest. She would be. Maybe no today, but she would.

"D'accord" She conceded with a heavy sigh.

With that, Fleur turned around and headed inside reluctantly. She settled on the couch with a book, listening for signs of Hermione's movements.

When Hermione finally convinced herself to return to the living room, she found Fleur curled up on the couch, sound asleep with a book in her lap. A blanket lay next to her, half fallen to the floor. Hermione stepped closer and put the book aside carefully before lifting the blanket back on Fleur's frame without thinking. Her hands lingered on the blonde's shoulders, and she relished in the fleeting reprieve her proximity caused.

Up close, and asleep like this, Hermione couldn't deny that there was a certain beauty to the woman that was her mate. She had long since lost track of the reason for her continued struggle against their bond, and in a moment like this, it seemed ridiculous to resist it any longer. She touched Fleur's cheek cautiously with her fingers, and stroked along her jawline softly, lost in thought.

Fleur sighed in her sleep, and the small sound startled Hermione out of her trance. As if burned, she hastily removed her hands from Fleur's cheek. Her skin instantly yearned for the warmth of the other woman as soon as she stepped back.

No matter how easy it would be to give in completely, she couldn't let herself - not now, not right after what she'd done. With the insistent thoughts already at the back of her mind, she took several more steps back with a heavy heart, and softly closed the front door behind her as she left the house. It was nothing she wasn't used to. She quickly made her way towards the shore, where she knew the sound of her apparition would be drowned out by the waves, and with a pop, she was gone.