"Wait, did you not say blesse her?" "NO, I said you should bless her." "Merde."

Hermione liked her job. She really did. It came with challenges, gratifying achievements and enjoyment in the small things. Always something to do, change or improve. The witch relished the moment she got to officiate the removal of an atrociously outdated and prejudiced law.

It was a fact; Hermione liked her position in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. It didn't hurt that her beloved fiancé took great pride in Hermione's efforts; as the Veela woman was a creature herself.

What the witch didn't like about the job; other ministry officials.

Hermione had encountered self righteous assholes her whole life; most were educated alongside her at Hogwarts but after the war most shut themselves and their 'isolated ideals' away for good. Sadly, there were still the occasional narcissistic prejudiced neanderthal that roamed the hallways.

The witch had her small circle of co-workers. They got along very well and certainly proved an efficient team in the stressed or time constraint situations. But when a new woman entered the department, things turned sideways.

She was a tall, fake tanned model figure with long dark hair and a 'charming' smile. Social, talkative, flirty and obnoxious. Her name was Harriet Monet and she was horrible.

At least to Hermione's little gang.

"She's a bitch." Hermione grumbled, eyes on a document her co-worker handed over for a second opinion. She stood next to his desk with another woman; all three of them didn't need to visibly see the 'newbie' down the aisle of desks; no doubt midway into the next manager's bed.

It was a distasteful scene.

"I wholeheartedly agree with Hermione. So how do we get rid of her?" Rowan said impishly. She was a proud woman of South African descent, dark eyes and caramel glazed skin; a bedazzling smile alongside her wicked personality made her a force to be reckoned with. The reaction from her co-workers was skillfully ignored. "We're all thinking about it."

"Yes…but you're actually asking me how we do it." Hermione's brow raised and she got an identical expression back. Of course Rowan was serious. "I don't know."

"That, I don't believe."

"I don't know why you never believe me. I'm not some superior mastermind strategist Rowan; everything takes research and slow planning." Hermione handed the paper back to the seated Nigel, who had until that point been quiet.

"You're still a mastermind." He smirked somewhat guiltily. "We've all heard about your actions during the battle of…"

"Please…don't." Hermione groaned. She pressed hard against her temples, and tried to wish the images away. For months the rumours and whispers followed her through the Ministry hallways; it didn't help that every time her best friends came to visit, officials wanted a view of the 'Almighty Trio' together once more.

Harry and Ron could keep the fame. Hermione didn't want it.

"You still blush girl? You need to get over it already. Hermione Granger, world famous mastermind and destroyer of Death Eaters." Rowan smirked at her friend's clear discomfort, unaware a third party had invited themselves to the group.

"May I ask 'o is making my 'Ermione blush? I zink zat is my job." The French accent was a giveaway to the blonde haired beauty, dressed smartly in dark blue robes and set in a pose that would make dozens of men swoon.

"Fleur."

"Bonjour mon ange." She placed a kiss to the brunette's cheek, arms firmly set around Hermione's waist before she greeted the others nonverbally. "What did I miss?"

"Not that it's any of your business, nosy Veela…" Hermione started but was cut off by Rowan.

"Our new bitch of a co-worker."

She pointed down the way and Fleur's eyes found the scene mid sequence. She too found it rather unsightly, but the Veela hadn't travelled all the way into the Ministry depths to focus on some unimportant woman. She had ventured to get her hands on her beloved and steal her for an extended lunch break.

"Oh Merlin, she's all over him." Nigel groaned, hand all but covered his eyes at that point. "The man's going to catch something."

"Something nasty." Rowan chuckled, arms folded. "Ooh, Mrs Sneecher is coming!"

"Rest in pieces." Hermione chuckled softly, an action that had her fiancé gaze at her longingly. "Someone needs to bless her spirit. It'll be passing on soon enough."

"Oh Merlin in the afterlife; rescue this lost creature for her salvation is certainly not in any man's pants." Rowan woefully pleaded to the heavens in a heavily theatrical tone, arms raised up wide in a religious like manner.

The three shared a spiteful laugh while Fleur's eyes darkened momentarily.

"Let me grab my bag and we can go, Fleur." Hermione left the blonde's side and returned to her desk. As the moment of conversation had ended the other two workers dispersed but Fleur was caught in a mental debate.

Her beloved said they should do it…but in what way?

A sparkle came to her eye, followed by a smirk; the Veela ultimately strolled her way up to the corner desk and its lone occupant with a simple but sneaky intention. She swayed her stride, elevated her head and traced her fingers along the wooden surface.

The woman was attractive, of slighter than average height but certainly exuded charm and sociability. Blue eyes didn't see a trace of intrigue, higher intelligence nor extraordinary aspect to the witch; to the magnificence that was Fleur's magical bloodline, the unknown female was a spec of dirt.

Naturally, the Veela tried a little charm of her own. Nothing too extravagant; just a small amount of thrall that could perhaps entice the simple minded…

The lady's eyes glazed not two seconds later.

"Merde." She muttered under her breath. It wasn't meant to be so easy and she didn't want the outcome to be diluted by the clearly manipulated woman. Still, her beloved had said they needed to do something and Fleur had accumulated a few choice words to share.

Across the room, Rowan watched the scene with subtle intrigue. What would Hermione's beautiful fiancé have with that scandalously narcotic bimbo?

Eyebrows shot to the sky as Fleur sat on the corner desk and leaned in close, seemingly to whisper in the woman's ear. Rowan, in all her hot blooded fury, was set to give both of them a piece of her mind!

How dare that woman look at anyone but her bestest work friend?!

Her rage vanished two steps in, enough to catch Nigel's eye, when the expression on Harriet's face slowly went from foggy dream-like dopiness to aghast horror, only to drain of colour at the realisation Fleur intended to instil. Wide, bloodshot eyes moved to the face of her assailant as her jaw quivered slightly.

Their limited angle wouldn't allow full view of the blonde's face, but Rowan knew well enough the French born was grinning her usual 'non-threatening' smile. A seemingly daunting image for the now stricken worker as she all but stumbled to her feet and away from her desk.

"Wow."

"Ah, what did she say?" Nigel voiced from her side. The dark eyed woman couldn't reply verbally, mind focused on the process to decipher the scene until Hermione returned, bag in hand and ready to leave.

"You are not going to believe what just happened." Seeing the unrestrained glee in her eyes, Hermione was hesitant to ask.

"I'm sure one of you will tell me. Gradually." She folded her arms.

"Your amazing, beautiful, smart mouthed fiancé just traumatised the bitch." Rowan cut in with a mixture of nervous awe and pride. "Whatever she said, sent her running for the boss's office in record time."

"It's true." Nigel's gesture indicated the slightly ajar door to said enclosed office. Hermione looked incredulous, strong in her disbelief despite the return of her lover and the delighted expression she housed.

"Ready for lunch ma belle?"

"What did you do?" Hermione turned her glare onto the blonde. Fleur looked innocently bewildered.

"I did no'zing chérie." Rowan stepped forward, admiration in her large dark eyes.

"I think I love you."

"Rowan, shut it." Hermione swiped at the woman, still suspicious of the situation.

Not two seconds later, the door to the office opened and Harriet made a hasty retreat; clearly frazzled and looking like she wanted to be anywhere but there. When her eyes fell onto the group and one particular Veela…

"Wow. You did scare the living daylights out of her." Hermione's eyebrows raised slowly. "Fleur?"

"I simply did as you instructed." Fleur shrugged like the cowering retreat of a full grown woman was a normal everyday thing. "She will no longer be an eyesore for zis department. Zere is always more zan one way to crush a spirit."

"Wait what?"

"You said to blesse her spirit. It is not my fault she cannot take a 'ardened word or two." The nonchalant attitude made it difficult for Hermione to understand if she was being serious or not.

"Oh my god! Did you hurt her?!"

"Not physically. Mentally… emotionally… per'aps"

"Fleur!"

Blesse in French roughly translates to 'hurt'. Just a little misunderstanding between the best of intentions...mostly.

Midmoon Kitsune out!