Hermione was paralyzed with shock for a moment at Fleur's last words, jaw slack with surprise. Love…her…what? She jumped out of her chair, knocking it to the floor with a clatter, grabbing her wand before she dashed out the door after the woman she had just been screaming at.
Seeing no sign of the older witch, Hermione swore heatedly under her breath and whispered 'Point Me' to her wand while thinking of Fleur's pale face and shining hair. It turned towards the gates in front of the Shrieking Shack, and Hermione immediately started to run in that direction, not noticing when her hood was jerked back by the wind blowing the opposite way.
With a noise of effort, Hermione climbed over the fence and landed in a crouch on the other side of it. She cast the Locator spell again, and rushed across the grounds towards the decaying building.
The door was already partially open, but Hermione almost took it off its hinges with how hard she had shoved it. In fact she was going so fast that she almost knocked over Fleur, stop only inches from the woman, the unmarred side of her face flushed with exertion.
Fleur looked very surprised to see Hermione trying to catch her breath in front of her, but a little glint of amusement was caught in her eyes, and she quickly tried to hide a smile.
"What's so funny?" Hermione gasped, curiosity overwhelming overtaking the other thousand questions she had buzzing around in her mind.
"You ran," Fleur said simply.
Hermione blushed in response. While she had been attempting Olympic-style speeds, Fleur had merely Apparated to her current location. But she quickly recovered her composure and went back to the issue that she had just embarrassed herself over.
"Did you say what I think you said?"
She saw Fleur's eyes drifting without consent, and realized her hood had fallen down during her mad dash to the Shack. Hermione pulled it up roughly, jaw clenching with old anger.
Fleur looked utterly horrified at what she had just done and starting stumbling over the words, "I'm sorry, I didn't-"
Hermione cut her off with a raised hand.
"Answer my question."
"Yes, if you 'eard me say zat I fell in love with you."
Again, confusion trampled over Hermione's thoughts.
"You…y-what!"
"I love you," Fleur said a little slower, "Surely I am not ze first one to tell you zat."
Of course it wasn't. Viktor had told her that years ago, Ron had mumbled it during his unenthusiastic attempt to get her in his bed, and her parents (when they were still alive) told her that every night before she went to bed and at the end of every letter they sent to her at Hogwarts.
"But," Hermione started, still at a loss for words, "Bill!"
"Sadly is dead. And if you think perhaps I am getting over him too quickly, I will swear upon anything zat is not ze truth. 'e was ze first one to notice my eyes wandering before I even realized it myself. But, as 'e said when 'e proposed to me, ze most important thing to 'im was my happiness. I do not think Bill would deny me this confession, even if 'e still breathed."
"Why me?" Hermione asked cautiously, Fleur's blatant stare at her scars still stinging.
"You…" Fleur paused, letting out a deep breath, "were once one of ze most passionate people I 'ad ever known, filled with ambition and a quick wit. You, who put so much faith in your friends even when zey 'urt you. Then ze war came, and I watched it strip away everything you 'ad been. It broke my 'eart every night you came back from those 'orrors to our cell, because each time another part of you was missing."
Fleur's sentences quickly degraded into French too rapid for Hermione to understand, but her voice, more thickly accented than usual, was desperate when she ended with, "You understand, i non /i ?"
Hermione really wasn't sure how to answer that, but said softly, "I used to hate you. The first time I saw you, I thought you were an arrogant airhead with a pretty face. But I was proven wrong a long time ago. I apologize for how I may have treated you."
Fleur nodded absently but responded with, "While I appreciate your apology, 'ermione, it is now you who is not answering ze question at hand."
Hermione bit her lip, even more embarrassed than before.
"Yes," she said, "I understand. But even so, I don't understand what you could see in me now. In i this /i ."
Her voice was thick with bitterness as she touched her pitted and scarred cheek.
"I see someone who has never 'ad the chance to 'eal because everyone she used to trust has abandoned 'er and forgotten what she did for them at risk to both 'er sanity and 'er life."
Hermione's answer to that stuck in her throat because Fleur stepped forward and the younger witch succumbed to the urge to kiss her. Flower of the heart, she thought, melting against the French witch's lips, was how Fleur's name translated to English. It was gorgeous, just like the rest of her.
Both of them stumbled backwards, ending up against a wall. Hermione's hands, now entwined with Fleur's, held the older witch still under her probing mouth. The purr that emanated deep in Fleur's throat in response made a chill slide down her spine.
Thoughts of how wrong it was to be kissing someone of her own gender rose like annoying imps in Hermione's mind, but when manicured hands slipped from hers and nails raked down her back, her train of thought considering 'right' and 'wrong' quickly changed to 'please' and 'more'.
She had a weak noise of protest when Fleur jerked down her hood, thoroughly disgusted with her damaged appearance. It was like venom trickling into the sweet release of this experience. Hermione was sure that Fleur would only pay attention to the pale skin of her left cheek, but was pleasantly surprised when the opposite occurred.
Soft lips trailed over tissue rough like thick leather, tongue sliding into imperfections and the deepest scars. Hermione's eyes were practically rolled into the back of her head from pleasure, because beneath the flesh, her nerves tingled and heated her blood as Fleur's mouth slowly moved down the coarse plains of her jaw to the hard and twisted skin of Hermione's throat.
The Frenchwoman, feeling particularly adventurous, bit down at the juncture between the girl's neck and shoulder, a satisfied smile emerging on her lips when Hermione made a sound caught between pleasure and pain. Her mouth sealed on where she had just left teeth marks, sucking gently on the thick flesh.
"Hermione?"
Both women both froze like deer caught in the headlights. Fleur looked over Hermione's shoulder to see Ginny Weasley, face flushed with anger and shock.