Chapter Seven

Hermione tried not to get in the way as Madam Pomfrey led Fleur, as well as Krum, up to the Hospital Wing later that evening. Even though she wanted simply to hold Fleur in her arms, she contented herself instead with clutching onto the girl's hand. Frankly, she was surprised the French girl could even walk with those bad injuries – Madam Pomfrey hadn't been able to fix her up properly, and Hermione was sure the girl was in a great deal of pain. But she didn't fall over herself as they walked on. In fact, the older teenaged girl even looked graceful as she took painful steps towards the infirmary; Hermione smiled at the sight, and held Fleur by the waist as the girl leaned more of her weight on her.

The brunette took in a deep breath, contemplating silently as they walked towards the infirmary. So much had taken place that evening, and although Fleur was quite badly wounded, the girl was here to comfort Hermione. Wasn't it supposed to be the other way around? Wasn't Hermione supposed to be comforting Fleur, after what she had been through? But Hermione couldn't help it – yet another disastrous thing had happened to Harry… She didn't know why her best friend had come back with the dead body of Hogwarts' other champion, but he had. And Hermione was very, very shaken by this. When she glanced at Fleur, she noticed the girl freeze up slightly, as though hardening herself. As though she had expected this. The thought caused Hermione to feel sick and afraid, but she pushed it away. It was silly to think that Fleur had killed Cedric Diggory – or that she had known for sure that Cedric was going to be killed. The Fleur she knew would never do such a thing.

Hermione had tried to get through to Harry shortly after that, so that she could ask him what had gone on, or at least just be there for him. But before she could… she found that he'd disappeared from sight, and when she tried scanning the crowd for him she was met only with a blur of students, staring back down at her. This didn't sit well with her, and she wanted to go find him, but she didn't know where to start. However, she was saved from doing anything, for right then Madam Pomfrey came, telling them to make their way up to the infirmary. So half-heartedly she went along with Fleur – half-heartedly not because she didn't care about Fleur, but because she was worried for Harry. But perhaps he would already be in the Hospital Wing…

"Miss Granger?"

The voice was kindly, and Hermione looked up suddenly into the questioning face of Madam Pomfrey. A brief glance-around told her that she had arrived in the Hospital Wing already, and she wondered how she could have missed the entire walk from the grounds up to this little wing in the castle. Perhaps she shouldn't allow herself to get lost in her thoughts… What if she ran right into a wall because she wasn't paying any attention to where she was going? Then she, too, would've been hurt, and she would've had to have Madam Pomfrey tend to her as well. And the mediwitch already had enough on her plate as it was. Hermione sighed, making herself listen to what the school nurse was now saying.

"Would you be so kind as to bring Miss Delacour to the second bed over there?" The brunette looked in the direction that Madam Pomfrey was pointing and nodded. The nurse smiled gratefully, and turned to Viktor Krum as she continued, supporting the boy and leaving Fleur with Hermione, "Now Mister Krum, right this way…" And she started off in the same direction, helping the Durmstrang boy along, but stopped at a bed that was a few places down and on the opposite wall from Fleur's. Hermione watched until she started to settle Krum down in his bed, before turning to Fleur, who was getting heavier on her arm and looked to be on the brink of fainting.

Quickly – and almost apologetically – Hermione led Fleur to the bed Madam Pomfrey had pointed to, and busied herself with getting Fleur comfortable. As soon as Fleur'd gotten into the bed, Hermione tucked the sheets around the girl, smoothing her dirty blonde locks down and pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead. She couldn't help but smile as Fleur did, a sense of peace settling over her as she watched the girl silently. She sat on the edge of the French witch's bed, giving Fleur's hand a squeeze, smiling again when Fleur looked at her with a tired smile. They stayed like that for the next few minutes, until someone tapped Hermione gently on the shoulder, and addressed her quietly, "Miss Granger, if we may 'ave a word alone with Fleur…"

Hermione tensed briefly, but nodded wordlessly. Giving Fleur's hand another squeeze she got up, moving over to allow Madam Maxime – as well as Professor Dumbledore, Fleur's mother, and Fleur's sister – some room to stand by Fleur's bedside… She saw Gabrielle jump onto her sister's bed and give the girl a large hug, and a smile formed on her face. Then she turned away from the scene… only to gape when she saw who was at another bed not too far down, surrounded by no one but red-haired witches and wizards.

It was Harry.

She rushed over immediately, wondering how in the world she could have missed his arrival and pushed her way through the Weasleys so she could see him. "Harry!" she exclaimed and flung her arms around him. When she pulled back, however, she was a bit more somber and frowned slightly, not knowing what to think now. She wasn't going to bring up the subject of Cedric Diggory – she had decided since earlier that it would be rather crude of her to do so, and it would probably only upset him. And aside from looking a bit pale and worse for the wear, he looked… okay. "Are you– How are you?"

"Tired," he sighed as he sank back into the pillows. Hermione nodded; he did sound exhausted. But she didn't say anymore, and just watched as Mrs. Weasley gave him a cup of potion for dreamless sleep and encourage him to drink more. She wandered at this point, over to the window, where she saw a curious little ladybug perched on the windowsill. Suddenly she was reminded of what she had researched on that ever obnoxious reporter, Rita Skeeter, not too long after her falling-out with Fleur. She slapped a hand down quickly, causing her fingers to strike the window, but she easily ignored the stinging pain and brought her other hand to help her catch the ladybug without doing it too much harm.

"Sorry," she muttered as she realized that Harry and the Weasleys were staring at her curiously. She shook her head apologetically, to show that it didn't matter, and glanced over at Fleur, who was now very much alone, as the Weasleys turned their attention back to Harry. She watched as her best friend took his potion, and before long he had fallen asleep. The Weasleys looked in her direction, as though to make sure she was all right, and when her well-being was confirmed, took their leave.

Hermione was left alone with Fleur – something she was very grateful for, but before she could go over to the French witch, she needed a little glass bottle for the ladybug she had just caught. She found an empty one in one of the drawers nearby, and with out Madam Pomfrey's permission, she took it and let the beetle crawl in. Though that took a while, as the beetle seemed rather reluctant to go in. However, she managed to get it in, and snapped the lid on with satisfaction. Slipping the small vial into her robe pocket, she walked over to Fleur's bed and gathered the girl's hands in hers.

Noting the curious look on Fleur's face – undoubtedly regarding the vial she needed – Hermione merely shook her head and added soothingly, "I'll tell you tomorrow." A pout started to form on the French girl's lips, and Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes and laugh. She was aware of the exhaustion the girl was feeling; it was plainly evident in her eyes. Squeezing Fleur's hands once more, Hermione smiled, "Tell you what. I promise I'll tell you tomorrow if you go to bed now, all right?" A pause. "And maybe you can tell me what Madam Maxime and Professor Dumbledore wanted with you." Fleur's face darkened at this – which definitely was not the reaction Hermione had been expecting, and she hastened to add, "If you want, of course." She sighed, then handed the dreamless potion on the bedside table to Fleur, saying, "You'd best get some sleep. Here, take this."

And she watched as Fleur drank the potion down and helped fluff the girl's pillows as she proceeded to settle back down in her bed. Not a minute later and the French girl had fallen asleep, leaving Hermione to squeeze her hands again and place a lingering kiss on her forehead, never taking her eyes off Fleur's face.

She couldn't believe she had once almost given this beautiful French witch up.

Fleur awoke the next day, her head throbbing painfully. She groaned, shifting in her bed and messing up the sheets, vaguely aware of a slighter form next to her stirring. She blinked a couple of times, and found herself staring into those chocolate brown eyes she had grown so familiar with. She forced a smile but slumped back into the pillows behind her, her slender, scratched arms reaching around Hermione's waist and tightening their hold on the brunette.

To her dismay, however, Hermione wriggled out of her grasp with slightly reddened cheeks and regarded her with a seriousness that caused her to worry. Neither Fleur nor Hermione seemed to have the intention of speaking, even though Hermione still wore that serious, concerned look that caused Fleur herself to worry. But the both of them seemed content in listening to the silence that surrounded them while lying in the warmth of the hospital bed. Finally, Hermione slid off the side of the bed and turned back to Fleur, asking worriedly, "Are you feeling any better?"

"Only a little bit," Fleur admitted with a slight sigh, glancing out the window. "But I will feel much better soon, non?" She tried to smile brightly, and Hermione seemed to buy it, for she too smiled back in reply. But after a little while, Hermione's smile faded, only to be replaced by a sad frown that only deepened when she glanced at Fleur. Noticing this, Fleur tried to catch Hermione's gaze, but to no avail. In the end she spoke tentatively, "Why do you look so sad? Is anything wrong, Hermione?"

Hermione hesitated.

And then, with a smile, "No."

It was a lie, of course. But Fleur didn't press the subject any further, perhaps due to her belief that Hermione wouldn't lie to her, and would certainly tell her anything of importance. But the truth was that after Fleur had gone to bed, Hermione had gone to the Gryffindor Common Room shortly – just to see Ginny – and on her way back from there, she had bumped into Professor Dumbledore. He'd told her about Fleur… About how the girl, like Viktor Krum, had been tortured with the Cruciatus Curse. As if that wasn't bad enough, a nonverbal spell had also been used on her and as of yet, Madam Pomfrey had little idea what the spell was, or what its effects were. The only thing the mediwitch knew for sure, Professor Dumbledore had said, was that the wound inflicted upon Fleur was proving most difficult to heal; no amount of potions seemed to heal the bleeding gash.

Of course, Hermione understood that she wasn't to confront Fleur with what she had just learned; at the very least, she would have to wait until some time had passed – until the girl felt stronger and more ready to retell her tale for a second time. As was to be expected, the French witch, the Headmaster said, was rather upset with the entire ordeal. And though Hermione wished Fleur would have confided in her first, she knew better than to be petty and allow this to be the cause of another argument. Fleur would tell her, but in her own time. The French teenager had gone through a lot – what many witches and wizards never had experienced, and never would. She was an incredibly brave individual; Hermione didn't doubt it for a second.

"I think," Fleur began slowly, eyes trailing over Hermione's form and gently bringing the Gryffindor out of her thoughts. She paused momentarily to press down on her temples, and continued, "zat after I get somezing for zis headache, we can go for breakfast downstairs."

"If Madam Pomfrey will let you," Hermione replied, doubt in her tone – though her face shone with delight. She hoped Madam Pomfrey would let Fleur come down to breakfast; it was the last breakfast of the school year, and she would like to spend it with Fleur. However, she pushed Fleur back onto the hospital bed with a stern look as the girl tried to get up. "You stay right here. I'll go get her."

Fleur stuck her tongue out at Hermione, folded her arms across her chest, but settled back into her bed as she awaited the school nurse's arrival.

As things turned out, Madam Pomfrey refused to allow Fleur to leave the Hospital Wing for breakfast that morning, insisting that Fleur stay in bed to mend properly. After all, the French girl was still bleeding, and it would do her no good to bleed all over the bloody school, would it? But by early afternoon, Fleur's wound seemed to have stopped most of its bleeding, and so after bandaging the girl's torso up with fresh bandages, Madam Pomfrey reluctantly allowed Fleur to go attend the Leaving Feast – with strict instructions that the girl come back right before returning to her carriage in Beauxbatons to return to France, just to get more potion for the blood in her, so she wouldn't feel so faint.

Fleur sat, for the first time, at the Gryffindor table with Hermione. It seemed that students had gotten wind of what happened to Fleur and Viktor, and many of the Gryffindor students tried to ask Fleur what exactly had happened – what was true and what was not – but they were silenced by harsh glances from Hermione. Ron was busy fending off other curious students who were trying to bother Harry with what he had seen the night before, and once when Fleur caught Harry's gaze, the both of them exchanged a look of exhausted amusement.

When Professor Dumbledore spoke of Cedric later during the feast, Fleur caught sound of a choked sob from nearby and looked up sadly, knowing who it was before her blue eyes even fell upon the girl. It was Cho, and Fleur felt a rush of sadness for the Ravenclaw, wishing she were sitting next to her so she could comfort her. Cho had loved Cedric – liked him a lot, at the very least, and Fleur couldn't even begin to imagine how it felt to lose someone she cared for that much. She felt her hand being squeezed and looked over to see Hermione smiling at her. Her heart fluttered of its own accord, and she squeezed the hand in hers back.

No. She didn't know what it felt like to be Cho, and neither did she want to know. All she knew was that Hermione was the only one who could make her feel this way and that to lose that would be devastating. That was the closest she could relate to Cho's feelings at the moment; she didn't know any other way.

Hermione, on the other hand, knew a little more about losing someone. Or almost losing someone. When she saw Fleur's body being carried out onto the green, she thought she had lost Fleur forever. Even through all their arguments, Hermione'd always cared for Fleur, loved her even. And though they had broken up, Fleur had always been there – an everlasting presence, or so it seemed. When she thought that Fleur had gone from her forever… it felt as though a piece of her had been unwillingly ripped from her and never would mend.

She didn't want to think about this summer, how she would have to be separated from Fleur again when they had just made up.

"Remember Cedric Diggory."

Professor Dumbledore's voice echoed across the large hall, and Hermione looked up briefly from her thoughts, before repeating the same words in a quiet mutter. Then she turned to Fleur and gave her fingers yet another tight squeeze, watching students get up and leave the Great Hall and following them not too long after, supporting Fleur along the way.

"So are you going to tell me what it is that you put in zat bottle of yours?"

Hermione grinned slightly at Fleur's query, nodding her head. With one arm still around Fleur, she used the other to pull out a small bottle from her robe pocket. Then she held it out to Fleur, whose brow furrowed while she scrutinized the tiny creature in the bottle.

"A ladybird?" Fleur questioned. "Why did you catch this ladybird?"

"Don't make fun," Hermione warned, the incredulous tone in Fleur's voice not lost on her. In response Fleur tried her best to hold back a light laugh. "It's not a ladybird." At Fleur's dubious 'who-in-the-world-are-you-kidding' look, the brunette sighed and corrected herself, "I mean, it's an Animagus." Fleur looked surprised at this, though she was still unsure in which direction Hermione was taking this conversation. "Well, it's Rita Skeeter, to be exact."

"What?"

"It's how she's been getting all her stories – see? She's so small that she's almost unnoticeable," Hermione explained patiently. "It was something Harry said, really, that made me think of it."

Fleur looked very impressed, and handed the bottle back to Hermione, who put it back in her pocket. "But how did you know her Animagus was a ladybird? – did you check the registry?"

"She's not a registered Animagus. But it wasn't hard to figure out – I just put a few clues together."

Fleur looked fondly at Hermione, who flushed at the attention she was getting.

"And… can I ask about last night?" Hermione asked slowly, hesitantly.

"I would rather not talk about it," Fleur replied, though she sounded more like she was pleading Hermione not to bring it up.

"I'm sorry," Hermione apologized, but Fleur shook the apology off just as they arrived at the Beauxbatons carriage. "Well, here we are. I'll see you later? Before you go?"

Fleur nodded, smiling, "Yes."

Hermione had her trunk packed in the space of a few minutes, and when she had finished, she rushed downstairs so she might catch an extra few minutes with her dear more-than-friend, Fleur Delacour. It didn't take long for Hermione to spot the French witch, and when she did, she made her way over quickly. They embraced, tightly, and did not let go for a long time. When they finally did break apart, Fleur noticed that Hermione's eyes were watering over.

"Do not cry, Hermione," Fleur said softly, caressing Hermione's cheek.

Hermione bit her lip and looked away, as though ashamed. Then steadily, she said, "I'm sorry. I'm trying not to. But…" She didn't even know how to begin expressing the pain she felt whenever she thought of Fleur returning to her home in France… How was she going to survive the summer like this? She looked into Fleur's eyes, and kissed the girl chastely on the cheek.

Fleur laughed, and Hermione looked offended.

"Zat is 'ow I would kiss Gabrielle, Hermione," Fleur grinned despite herself; the look on Hermione's face after Fleur had spoken was priceless. The French witch leaned in closer to Hermione, allowing the tip of her nose to brush against Hermione's, blonde locks tickling the other girl's face as she drew in closer… until her lips finally met the other girl's in a passionate kiss. Her hands came up to tangle themselves in brunette strands, and when they broke apart, their breathing was slightly heavier. "And zat…" Fleur began softly, "Zat is 'ow I would kiss you."

Hermione felt her breath catch, but before she could come up with a reply, footsteps were heard coming their way. The first of the students was arriving, and although by this point their relationship was far from secret, Hermione preferred not to do this all in front of others – she never really was good with public displays of affection. Pulling from Fleur, she allowed one last, sweeping glance before she turned her attention to the others that were arriving, a few of whom were her friends from Durmstrang.

Fleur did the same, and turned to her friends that she had made this year, bidding them all a good summer and farewell. She gave them hugs and promises to write, watching Hermione out of the corner of her eye at the same time. She wondered if she and Hermione would actually correspond over the summer, or if this was as far as they could take their relationship. As much as she hated to admit it to herself, and as much as she wanted to keep in touch with Hermione, she knew that the summer would change things. It always did.

But when the two girls, blonde and brunette, turned to each other to bid each other goodbye and farewell, they could say nothing for a long while. Fleur finally placed a finger below Hermione's chin and tipped her face upwards, pressing her lips onto the other girl's, their tongues coming together for what felt would be the last time. Fleur didn't want to break the kiss; she wanted to savour this moment. And when they did come apart, Fleur pressed the side of her cheek to Hermione's giving the girl a tight hug, then stepped back.

At this moment, Adrienne showed up – much to the displeasure of both girls. But it seemed the other French girl didn't like intruding on them as much as they disliked her company, and with a quick glance of acknowledgement to each of them, she spoke, "Fleur, it's time to go." She tilted her head in the direction of the carriage, and then, message delivered, walked away to find another Beauxbatons student to deliver the news to.

Hermione was the first to speak after this.

"You promise to write this summer?"

"I promise," Fleur replied honestly. "And you too?"

"Me too," Hermione promised, her face earnest. After a little while, a frown began to form; she noted that the French girl before her looked a bit paler than before, even though she had just been to see Madam Pomfrey. And Hermione suddenly found herself wondering if Fleur would ever be okay.

"Do not worry, Hermione," Fleur smiled, as though reading Hermione's mind – or maybe just her facial expression. "I am a Delacour. I will be fine."

And with that, Fleur sent Hermione a final smile, and turned towards the Beauxbatons carriage, comforted by the fact that if nothing else, she would get to hear from Hermione this summer.

Just that was enough to keep her going.

The End

A/N: Yep. That's it. Apologies for the long wait and the shortness; I couldn't think of anything for a while, and then there was school… Anyway, please let me know what you think! I know it's not the best. >. I'm thinking of writing a sequel to this though.