.viii – end
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"..Fly me to the moon
...And let me play among the stars"
~Sinatra c/o Megmi Hayashibara
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"..Fleur..", whispered Hermione.
Ron, at that, turned slowly to regard the Veela with his inebriated glossed over eyes.
"Beggin' yuir pardon, Miss," harshly spat Ron, "We're dancin', just so y'know. So, piss off." His grip then tightened so much that Hermione let loose a soft whimper.
Fleur's gaze hadn't wavered from Ron and never once strayed to look upon Hermione. The woman softly offered, "Admirable as zat is, m'sieur Weasley.. If you listened, you would be aware zat ze music, 'as stopped, oui?"
Looking about, he tensed as everyone in near proximity had rippled their gazes unto himself and Hermione. His ears nigh bled red. It's not a wonder Bill despised Fleur. Standing there, all high and mighty; and she.. just embarrassed him – A Weasley – in front of the whole of Wizard-kind.
The days for such embarrassment on his family were supposed to be over. They were the last on the ladder's rung, always striving for the top. His father was the Minister of Magic now, Ron an accomplished auror. Ginny an exceptional Quidditch Chaser for the London Royales, and the twins.. with their booming Joke Shops running at two locales, Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade..were by far, the more popular of the Weasley brood. Charlie, Bill and even Percy (after it was realized, he had been placed under the employ of the Ministry and Cornelius Fudge as a mole by Dumbledore) respectively had already established themselves.
They've made it far. Far be it from him to let anyone talk them down once more.
And yet…
There was that woman, looking at him expectantly. He never swelled with so much dislike – it rivaled yet another Platinum Blonde haired lout. Draco Malfoy. At this, Ron concluded they all must come from the same gene pool. His eyes sniped towards Hermione at the touch of his arm.
"What," he sneered out.
"Ron.. please, I'm a bit parched, maybe we should seat ourselves," murmured Hermione tentatively.
"Fine, get me the bloody 'ell away from 'er - or else I'll vomit my insides out.." Ron hissed agitatedly before turning on his heel and stomping off leaving Hermione in his wake.
Hermione glanced after Ron, before drawing her eyes upon Fleur. Her breathing stilled. It's been two years since she's had those eyes barrel into her. Fleur crossed her arms over the gentle swell of her chest, her face ever serene, not once betraying her thoughts. The muggle didn't know what to think.. or what to do. The world around them flurried into life once more as the confrontation was settled. But everything.. everything that was in Hermione slowed. They shared the same breadth of time once more..
"Ah.. there you are Ma'amoiselle Delacour," squeaked out Flitwick, a member of the High Consul, Ministry Museum Curator, and still professor at Hogwarts. The vertically challenged Professor, glanced to and fro Fleur and Hermione, "Oh.. oh my.. have I interrupted something of import?"
Searching Hermione's gaze, Fleur found.. a veil of nothing. Her gaze lowered towards the good Professor, "..is zere somesing you need M'sieur Flitwick..?" skirted the French woman.
"Yes yes, there is actually, the uh board members are requesting yours and Mr. Longbottom's appearance, just out in the enchanted balcony, shall I tell them your apt, or.. not?"
Stealing a glance unto Hermione, who's eyes had been shifted elsewhere, Fleur exhaled softly, "Lead the way M'sieur."
As Fleur left, Hermione screwed her eyes shut – her body shook; she felt weak. She missed her opportunity. Dizzied, the muggle left the floor headed towards Ron and the others.
It wasn't difficult to ascertain what Ron was all a dither about as she neared. The whole brood was there, a few nodded at Ron's prose, some chipped in.
"Haughty witch.."
"No clue what Neville sees in 'er."
"They boinkin', d'you think?"
"GEORGE!"
"Ey! He's George, I'm Fred!"
"fine.. FRED! Such language!"
"I hate her," growled Ron in finality causing the bickering to near cease; Harry in turn, lowered his eyes towards his drink. Ginny, at his side agreed with Ron almost instantly. He sideglanced to his right, then, catching the blur of onyx colored heels clacking in their direction.
"Took you fairly long enough to get back 'ere, love," said Ron gutturally.
"I had thought – I.. should see if you'd all like something to drink.. or.. more of what you have," replied Hermione as she was acknowledged with Ron's remark. They had all turned their heads to regard her. A sea of red, dotted by one dark haired male.
"Brilliant idear there Hermione,"quipped George, "And that's why you were Head Girl, eh?"
Hermione offered a blinding smile, hoping to assuage the current topic of conversation. Every word used to slander Fleur chipped at her heart. At all costs she avoided Ginny's burrowing gaze.
"And that's why she's with me," gloated Ron. "Firewhiskey Chaser love."
With a decided nod, Hermione gathered all their orders and made quick work to leave that acid-laced atmosphere. She was eternally greatful that the wet-bar was across the once dancefloor, taking her further away. Once at her point of destination, she rested against the lip of the bar, awaiting to be tended to, but movement at the corner of her eye caught her attention.
There were two towering French-like glass doors, arching magnificently. And just beyond that was seemingly a balcony, only barely hidden by a pair of draped, billowing transluscent curtains. People began to filter from the balcony, all with predominantly cheerful features. Till only two familiar profiles were left behind. The more striking of the pair cut a perfect silouhette. Hermione's breath caught.
"Now or bloody never.." she chided herself.
--
"That went well, don't y'think?"
"mm..I was, surprised zey agreed so lend us ze galleons for ze expidition.."
"T'was your charm, ma'amoiselle."
Fleur clucked her tongue upon the roof of her mouth, "Flattery m'sieur Longbottom – will get you everywhere – at least, wiz me." She turned her gaze out into the enchanted night sky.
Magic - It made this balcony feel real, offering even a gentle breeze to waft about her; sending her hair chaotically about. As magic may be an answer to some things – it cannot aid others. She pressed her body against the cool of the masonry ledge peering out unto the diamond dotted midnight sky.
"Of all ze sings to 'unt for.."
"Well.. at leas' Bill Weasley didn' get th' call from Flitwick."
"Zere is zat, oui – Dredge up all you can on ze subject – We will start wiz ze Giza's missing top." Fleur gave a hearty laugh, "Bill will not like us on 'is turf, non?"
"..I shouldn't think he would, he's got it in for you, Ms Delacour.."
Fleur's form went ram-rod stiff, her head dipped, before she dared to steal a look over her shoulder to affirm the owner of that voice, slowly.. her silver topped head drew back out into the forever expanse of the enchanted overlook.
Neville gave a bit of an excusing cough, feeling the sudden change in atmospherics – the akward heaviness. His gaze traversed between the women. Hermione seemed lost, he noted, and Fleur.. well.. she was being Fleur. Neville backpedaled, saying "I'll get on tha' then, Fleur…" a pause he half-bowed to Hermione, "'Ermione, lookin' well."
Hermione's reverie was broken as she realized she was being addressed, canting her head to one side, she offered Neville a genuine soft smile, "And you as well, Neville – it's.. wonderful to see once more."
He beamed while she eased forth and offered a chaste kiss to the man's cheek, "We'll 'ave t'catch up sometime, eh? If you'll both 'scuse me.."
With a scuffed cloppings of Neville's loafers, Fleur knew that they were alone.
"Why won't you look at me?"
"I did.. You didn' seem to see me," murmured Fleur. "..Did I 'orrify you zat much? What was it you to you?" Her voice quivered causing her to immediately set her eyes forth, lest she seem weaker than naught. And this wasn't a time to show such.
Hermione was so close to her that if she dared, her hand could reach out and rest on the French Woman's bared back. But at Fleur's question, she gave pause, furrowing her brow.
"..no." paused Hermione, "Didn't you.. you read my note.. I left it for you.."
Fleur scoffed as she interjected heatedly, "Merde, every night.." the Charm-Breaking aintiquities hunter added, as she stood there slowly losing her composure. The hands that were placed upon the stone rail-way curled into fists, "Was zat supposed to explain every'sing?"
"Everything that was IN me during that time, yes!" Hermione retorted.
With her back still to the Muggle Witch, Fleur asked, "..An' now? Tell me.. what LOGICAL answer you could poss'bly 'ave."
It was an eternity before Hermione spoke.
"I was a child. I was scared.. I .. I had no right to feel what I felt for you, so I thought.. it must have been illusory.. because, it happened on a whim.."
Inwardly Fleur caved little by little with each word being uttered by Hermione; it was it seems, just a flight of fancy after all – What was she expecting? It was bound to happen, wasn't it? For every game she played with other's hearts, now was her cummepance. Fleur felt sick, she wanted to leave this place now; her head listed forth, allowing her Silver mane to fan, in effect hiding her features.
Fool.
But then..
It was a breath, nothing louder than a whisper over her ears, but it was Hermione's voice, as solid as the Magically created balcony was, she almost missed what was said. Were it not for the railing, the Frenchwoman's knees would have given way. Hermione softly.. repeated it the effect was simply potent, more than any magics learned.
"..Fleur..", Hermione breathed out again, it hadn't mattered to her that Fleur hadn't responded, she pressed on with a gentle chuckle, "..Funny.. I feel like I've come home each time I say your name.."
Hermione found herself right at the much taller woman's back – so close, that she was breathing in her scent, "Jasmine.. it's become my favorite smell.." Her forehead gently rested against Fleur's exposed back – who had reacted with a small shudder; Hermione smiled. The heat of her cheeks wasn't compared to the warmth that was currently exhuded from Fleur.
The young Auror's head turned, flushing her cheek to feel more of the woman, turning again.. her lips came into contact to the Witch's flesh; as she spoke.. her lips continued to brush over the canvas of Fleur's skin, leaving a trail of searing kisses that was beginning to drive Fleur mad.. Hermione's hands hadn't behaved; so with feather like touches, she began to feel her dream..
"Home, it's said.. is where the heart is.." Hermione's fingers swam along the woman's back, "you are home to me.. I.. realized it.. the day you left." Again.. a smile crested over Hermione's lips feeling Fleur's body finally relax against her soon accompanied by the woman's hands reaching behind to pull her hands about her waist.
But words would have been wasted. As then, reality came careening out of nowhere. Just beyond the enchanted drapes screams were shot at from all sides.
"You stay away from there Ron!" cried Neville, "By GOD I swear!"
Having paid no heed, Ron shoved Neville aside sending him crashing into a potted plant, glowering, "A friend y'are Longbottom – next time, I reckon I'll not be as charitable.."
Tearing onto the balcony his ire rose tenfold at the sight, "What're you.. DOING?!" he bellowed as he strode forth, snapping his hand outright, grabbing a healthy spill of Hermione's hair. Ron yanked her backward the sheer force threw her from her heels, sending her scathing along the hard cemented floor.
"R-Ron, PLEASE!"
"SHUT UP!"
Unceremoniously, he tossed Hermione aside changing the focus of his fury; He hurtled himself at Fleur. Who had whipped about to deflected Ron's first attempt, by a simple side-step.. her eyes scoured finding Hermione's prone form.. "Hermio--!!"
Distracted, she hadn't seen it coming, Ron's knee thrusting INTO her gut, Fleur was winded; he peeled her head back burrowing his fire-lit eyes onto her.
"Why Bill never put you in your place, I'll never understan'! He NEVER took his own advice!" Ron furiously spat, "Yuir jus' a poun' o'flesh! MOLDED.." he continued to rage as Fleur remained doubled over.
"HERMIONE!", yelled Neville.
Blurry eyed, the Muggle roused, drawing her eyes from the westling forms, towards Neville prying himself from the Bramble-Bush he was shoved onto, he was brandishing something slim in his left hand - Suddenly realizing what it was.. her own hand rose as Neville threw it.
The wand sailed into the air, wobbling maniacally, before Hermione cried out, "Accio WAND!" She stood too quickly, her legs had buckled but she didn't care - still groggy she wiped the cobwebs from her eyes and pointed the wand dead center at what she thought was Ron's back.
"Cenriza!", cried Hermione – a flurry of pitch black smoke billowed forth from the tip of the wand blazing with inner heat as it charged at it's intended victim. But because of her still-woozy state of mind, the spell slammed into the wall and a plant just behind the pair. Both objects crumbling into ash.
Ron bobbled backward on his heels, taking cover as he then threw his arms over his head, once the plume of debris wilted away, he sniped his gaze onto Hermione, "Are you insane?? That would've bloody killed me!"
"Lay one hand on her again.. and I won't miss the second time..Bank on it, Ron.." Hermione leveled the wand in her shaky grasp while edging towards Fleur. Her hand was groping about as her eyes trained on Ron's own then at the very tip of her fingers, Hermione felt Fleur's hair. She stole a glance upon the woman, what had met her sight elicited a sharp intake of her breath.
Fleur's once illustrious mane was mixed with the grime that was on the sole of Ron's shoe and his spit as he was yelling at her. Her breathing was labored, a pool of red and clear fluid lay where her mouth was, Hermione deduced that Fleur had vomited.
"Neville!" Hermione bent closer, pressing her forehead upon the back of the fallen witch's head, murmuring for forgivness over and over, her head peeled inclined piercing her watered eyes on Ron, "you –STAY- where you bullocking are!"
Neville hurried, undoing his jacket and laying it upon Fleur, "I.. I've got 'er 'Ermione.."
She rose after Neville had managed to ease Fleur on her feet. "..Where.. where are you goin'??" a trace of panic was hinted on Ron's words – he quickly realized the intonation and countered that with, "..You walk out on me, 'Ermione.. we're.. we're through!"
Hermione paused, lifting her eyes to regard Ron; she mopped her eyes free from the tear-stains and replied simply..
"..Good-bye, Ron.."
--
A crowd had been drawn at the balcony, but in the fore was the Weasley bunch, mouths agape. Bill and Charlie hurried in, offering to aid Neville – It was Bill who had looked at Hermione, stammering, "..I – I hadn't.. known he would 'ave, I'm.. I'm sorry 'Ermione." She noticed his gaze floundered every now and again towards Fleur – his face beet red.
She had no more words left, Harry and Ginny both moved towards her, but she shook her head stepping from them and murmured for them to care for Ron. "He'll be needing it.." Hermione couldn't face them.. not yet. Mopping her face with the back of her hand, she hurried to find Neville and be at Fleur's side.
He settled Fleur into the hallway leading into the restrooms - with curiosities peaked there was a constant flittering about them, heads poking in and out and questions shot off left and right. Caring as he could for the beleaguered French Witch, Neville rounded on the next persons that blathered on and on.
"Git out o'ere! 'N give it a res' now!" roared Neville; taking the party of his former Hogwarts school friends Parvati, Seamus, and Dean off guard.
"Goodness," squeaked Parvati.
"..It's us Neville, mate!" slighted Dean.
"Kinnae y'give us th' scoop then?? Wha's 'appened?" pressed Seamus.
"If y'can't see it with yuir own daft eyes, th' woman's been 'urt! LEAVE," spat Neville venomously.
They looked at one another, before being gently pushed aside as Hermione entered the foray. With a soft utterance that fell from her lips, they silenced.
"please.. please.. just leave us be." She continued forth, as the sea of bodies slowly trickled away while Neville remained guard.
When he turned about, Hermione was seen knelt before Fleur, cupping both of the French Woman's hands in her own as her face nuzzled into the flat of Fleur's palms. Quietly.. Neville took his leave.
There was nothing said for some time. Save for the sudden swell of choking sobs that began to elicit forth from Hermione's throat, joined soon with the wet of her tears. Fleur curled her fingers gently, tracing idle circles about the Muggle's flesh.
"..He could have done anything.. anything to me.. and I wouldn't have felt it.. I wouldn't have cared.. But.. but.. the moment he laid his hand on you.. I couldn't have him.. touch you again.."
"..You did what you felt you 'ad to do, ma chere." Fleur gently urged Hermione to raise her head, meeting the younger woman's gaze steadily, "You.. rescued me."
Immediately, Hermione shook her head in negation, bringing herself more up-right upon her knees, meeting those cerulean storms.
"No. I didn't. I.. It took everything to have me see; I let you get hurt; in the end.. it was you who saved me." Bringing the back of Fleur's hand to her cheek, Hermione nuzzled the elder woman's flesh, before easing forth one of her hands to swipe away the debris from Fleur's chin.
"Merci.." mewled Fleur, swallowing with though much difficulty. Her eyes screwed shut after having tasted that familiar copper flow to the back of her throat, "I sink.. I should take my leave, oui? Some'ow – I feel az if I am not properly dressed.."
Hermione chuckled dryly, through a gloss of saline.
Fleur labored to her feet – but quickly, was lent aid via Neville's support, who came running in after a quick check. "Merci, m'sieur Longbottom.." He nodded. Fleur's head then inclined towards the nearest illuminated timepiece. Hermione's gaze followed suit.
"..Am.. am I late, Fleur.." rasped Hermione.
Fleur listed her had to one side, crafting careful words in her mind before tendering forth her reply..
"In ze wizarding world.. Time is inconsequential.." a pause before lifting her hand outward towards Hermione, "..I zis matter.. I sink you are right on time."
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Epilogue
It was a time before Ron Weasley accepted what happened. Last I heard.. he took to seeing a Mind Fixer – at least that's what I call it. Hermione though corrected me on many a time – Psycholo-Git. Something like that.
The rest of the Weasleys.. Is another story. Hermione was hurt by the estrangement, but.. what was surprising was the first to reach was Ron. In letters as it may be. Never asked what they were about, but I can hear Fleur and she talk about it at night. I reckon he wants her back.
I look at the two of them - Yeah, they're happy. But not a one has uttered those three words yet. It's like they're afraid. But anyone who ain't daft, can very well see it in the way the talk, and look at the other.
I get jealous, but.. it's not a big deal; after all.. I finally took up my courage and wrote up Gabrielle – She's no Fleur.. but no one really is now is they?
Och, they're calling – Nothing like being lost along the Orinoco, with two extremely able women. But it gets a mite tiresome being called to mule-pack while they.. hehe, 'Talk' things over. Thank God for Canvass tents.
Not that I'm complaining, much.
Neville Longbottom, esq.
Orinoco, Amazones – tent 2
Of the Unknown.
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And that.. is that. Hope you enjoyed – if not, I'm sure you'll let me know. I do plan to write more.. just not sure what of, if you've ideas.. feel free to drop me a line.