Two posts in one day? I know, crazy right? Anyway, Christmas is closing in as Ron realizes he has to talk to Hermione, but maybe, Hermione's realizing she has to talk to him too.

Also, for the sake of this story, let's pretend Fleur has an accent :)

Enjoy & Review!


Soon after breakfast Hermione disappeared back to Ginny's room, she trades in her flannel pants for sweats. Keeping on her navy jumper, she threw on a warm cloak from her trunk and snuck into the garden.

Despite the cold, the out doors were refreshing. Something about being outside just calmed her, helped clear her head a bit.

Slumping against her new favorite spot, an old oak tree, she pulled out the very book she's kept to herself for weeks. Hermione begins to read it, eyes skimming the same passages over and over, jotting down important points in her notebook.

Like usual, she was so engrossed in her task at hand, she failed to notice someone walking toward her.

"Bonjour mon chèri." Fleur's smooth voice announces, seemingly floating over to Hermione through the breeze.

At first the brunette jumps at the surprise, having been tense lately, but soon she relaxes. Fleur was just about the only person she was willing to talk to these days.

Like Hermione, she had been feeling out of place, trying to find her footing. And sure they were in two completely different situations, one being engaged to a Weasley, the other pining after one, but it was oddly comforting to not feel so alone.

"Bonjour Fleur, comment allez-vous?" Another bonus, is that for whatever reason, the blonde reminded her eerily of her grandmother.

Maybe it was because they both lived out their days in France and Hermione was trying to cling onto anything when it came to her Gran as of late, but Fleur's presence allowed her to think of the woman without feeling sad. To just remember her how she is, a kind, loving woman.

"Bonne." She smiles, Hermione just now notices the blanket in her hand, "I've been sent on a mission to keep you warm!" She giggles, subtly nodding to the window.

Hermione looks over to find Ron standing there watching them, but as soon as her eye catches him, he drops the curtain like he was never there.

"Oh, I'm fine." She tells the woman, quickly closing her journal and book.

"Well, I was given very serious orders that I get this quilt to you." Then, she drops on the grass next to the younger girl.

She grits her teeth, "you can tell whoever sent you that if they want me to have that, they should've come themselves." And she doesn't even know why she said it, Hermione has in fact been avoiding Ron.

"I said the same." The blonde states, "but you seem to make poor Ronald rather nervous."

Hermione remains silent as she begins to pick at the quilt Fleur's laid over them.

"I know what happened." The older girl states after a moment.

Her eyes snapped to Fleur's blue ones, "you do?" She sounds strangled.

Curtly, the blue eyed woman nodded, "of course. Ronald writes Bill about any chance he can and Bill can only offer so much advice about girls."

She scoffed before she could help it, "yeah, pretty girls like you, and Lavender Brown, or even,"

Fleur cut her off, "they were all about you mon chèri."

At this a twisted laugh left Hermione's throat.

"No je jure!" She exclaimed, "Every night Bill comes to bed and read his letters, he suggested I should join him to practice some English. At first it helped, but now I am invested!"

"Nice to know my life is entertainment Fleur." Hermione teased with a small smile.

"No, I didn't mean it like that!" She defended, but then noticed the smile on the younger girls face, "alright well, it is entertaining. Anyway, if Ronald knew I read them or am telling you about it, he'd surely die from embarrassment."

In turn, the witch just scrunches her brow, imploring the woman to go on.

Fleur clears her throat and sits up, "Oh Bill!" She starts in her best English accent and Ron impression, stifling a laugh from Hermione, "Almost died again tonight! Hermione saved me, again! She is brilliant, oh Bill," she gasps dramatically, "I need something to get her for Christmas, but she's already perfect! What do I do? Please write."

"No way." Hermione laughs at Fleur's impression and at the dramatic recap.

"I swear it! Recently his letters have been a lot more, how do you say?" She pauses, "pathetic."

"Go on then." Hermione encourages liking the amusement of Fleur's performance as Ron, as well as the additional information.

"Bill I am a," she thinks for the exact word, "a tosser! A right tosser!" Hermione laughs, that was something Ron would say, "I have messed up terribly, Hermione, she'll never speak to me again and I can't blame her."

Suddenly, Hermione's brown eyes go wide as Fleur goes on, this time dropping back to her normal voice, speaking softly, "It's so hard without her and I would give anything to make things right." She finished.

The brunettes vision began to blur, "he really wrote that?" She asked hoarsely.

In turn the French woman nodded, "every word."

A tear slipped down Hermione's cheek at the knowledge. Knowing Ron missed her too made things even harder. She doesn't think she has it in him to talk things out and go back to how things were. She's too scared to be hurt again, she doesn't know if she'll survive.

"Look Hermione," she sighs sadly, "I understand that things between you and Ron are complicated and that you are hurt. We all see that, he sees it more than anyone, and he's been beating himself over it since."

"Fleur, I," she begins to protest.

"I am not saying you should forgive him just like that, what I'm telling you is that he knows he's hurt you and it's killing him. Just give him a chance mon chèrie."

She contemplates this for a few moments. Her heart aches for Ron. It's kind of backwards that she feels bad because he's aching for how he hurt her, and she feels bad about it. It's like she just can't scrub him out of her life, no matter how much she thinks he wants her gone, she knows that's not the case.

And Fleur's right, she isn't ready to forgive him, she probably won't be ready to for a long time, but she is willing to take a step with him. To hear him out and just try and understand, but when the time is right.

"Okay." She says simply, wiping at her eyes with her wrists.

The blonde plants a warm kiss on her bushy hair and moved to stand up.

"Stay warm." She flashes her a small smile as she works her way back into the house.

"Fleur!" She calls before she can help herself.

The French woman turns eyes wide with curiosity.

"Not that I'm not grateful, but why did you tell me?" Hermione just needed to know.

Again a smile sat on her pretty face, "because us girls, we need to look out for each other, especially here," she gestured to the Burrow where eight men were currently residing, "you and I especially." Subtly hinting that the only two other women were Weasley's themselves.

A small smile now stretched on Hermione's lips, "thank you Fleur."

And with a wink the blonde walked back into the house knowing if she and Ron got through this, one day Hermione would surely be her sister.

...

"Fleur's been out there a long time, what do you reckon they're talking about?" Ron asked still looming by the window.

"I dunno, you." Harry shrugged over his Quidditch magazine.

"Hardy har." Ron shot back sarcastically.

"Have you figured out what you're gonna do tomorrow, with your gift and all?" He asked casually.

"How'd you hear about that!" Ron bellowed embarrassed.

The chosen one dropped his magazine to his lap, eyeing his friend, "the whole house knows by now, except Hermione." He shrugged.

"I'm gonna hex the bollocks off Bill."

"Wasn't Bill, it was Charlie." The green eyed boy corrected.

Ron rolled his eyes, "even better."

"Well," Harry drawled, "Ginny told me Hermione's trunk is over flowing with gifts." He waggled his brows suggestively.

The ginger shook his head, "doubt she got me anything mate, not unless it's puking pastilles, you know, without the purple end."

"Oi, that's my best mate you're going on about, don't you doubt for a second that she wouldn't get you anything." He said annoyed with Ron's lack of faith.

Weasley said nothing and continued to poke his head out the window, quickly jumping away when Hermione's brown eyes found his.

"You and Hermione may not be speaking but she does care. I reckon that's the problem, that she cares too much."

He drops his hand from where they're clutching the tattered drapes, "I know that Harry." Ron says defeatedly.

"You seem to be forgetting." He sits up, "I know for a fact she'd die for you Ron, even now, even when you two aren't speaking." Harry states.

Ferociously, the red head shakes his head, "don't say things like that. I don't wanna think about that." His response was reaching that of when Fred made his Death Eater joke yesterday.

Sensing his best friends rising temper, he quickly averts the subject, "so when are you gonna give her it? The gift."

Ron shrugs, his initial plan was to give it to her private, explain everything behind it, but as Christmas closed in her grew more nervous. "Leave it under the tree?" His voice is high and squeaky.

"Ron," the dark haired boy grumbled, "again my knowledge about girls is limited, especially when trying to think about Hermione like that." He squirmed, "But I think if you put this much into the gift, you might as well explain why."

"It's not easy." He admits quietly, plopping onto the couch, "it wasn't easy telling you, or Ginny, or even breaking up with Lavender."

Harry shakes is head, "I think that's the whole point Ron, if things we easy then we wouldn't know how much we wanted them." He said quietly, silently reflecting on his own wishes.

"Harry Potter," Ron said after a moment, "when did you get so poetic?" He teased.

In response the chosen one laughed and chucked his magazine at the gingers head.

"I reckon I'm rather tired of watching some tosser feel sorry about himself."

"Who ever could you mean Potter?" He joked.

"Hmm, tall, red hair, blue eyes, I think he's Gryffindor keeper. What's his name? Roger? Rupert?" He suddenly sounds a lot like Slughorn.

"Shove it." He chuckled, "I don't even know what I'd say." Ron commented.

Harry sat up and went to the edge of the couch cushion, scooting closer, "pretend I'm Hermione."

His face scrunches, "what? No! That's bloody weird."

"Come on Ron! You need all the help you can get. I don't think anyone can handle this from the two of you anymore." The chosen one encourages.

From the rare good mood Harry seems to be in Ron complies.

"Hermione, would you please," he notices Harry watching him, "can't you like... look away?" His friend rolled his eyes and kept staring at Ron, "would you please come outside with me, I'd like to give you something."

"No Ronald!" Harry shrieked in his best Hermione voice.

"Harry what the hell? You're supposed to make this easy!" Ron countered.

"Well would she?" The dark haired boy asked.

"Good point," the ginger agreed clearing his throat, "anyway, it would really mean a lot to me and I'd like to talk to you." He tried entering the act again.

"Oh so now you want to talk?" The Boy-Who-Lived asked impersonating his best friend quiet poorly.

"Harry." He groans.

"Fine, fine." He stops, "let's talk."

Averting his blue eyes from green ones, he envisions Hermione somewhere in the room, "I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am for hurting you. I know that it won't fix anything, but I'm through with Lavender, we should've never been together. Not when it was hurting you and you don't have to tell me why, I knew it was, so I'm sorry. I really am, I just hope you can find it in yourself to consider forgiving me. I'll be here, however long it takes." He rambles out, momentarily forgetting Harry was even there.

"Is this when we snog?" The chosen one says, interrupting the daze.

"Oh shove off." He grunted back annoyed.

"I thought you did good Ron, I'm sure you'll have to account for at least two interruptions, but, I think it's a start." Harry's voice is now serious.

"And that's all I'm asking for, a start." He clears up.

"Well as long as you buck up tomorrow, that's what you'll get."

Before Ron can even answer, Harry's green eyes find the window. Abruptly, Weasley turns and panics.

"Fleur's coming back! Act casual." He jumped to the couch and acted as if he were napping, leaving a laughing Potter.

The door son opened as Fleur appeared, "Bonjour boys."

"Oh hey there Fleur, didn't even notice you came in." The red head states, causing Harry chuckle even more.

The blonde rolled her eyes, knowing what he was doing, "you know Ronald," she began, too casual for his liking, "I've been told by someone, that next time you're to give them something you should do it yourself." Obviously she was referring to the blanket, but Ron's mind jumped to the gift in his room.

"I told him the same!" Harry called happily in agreement.

"Oui, smart boy." She praised.

"Alright, alright, I get it. I swear the next thing I need to give Hermione will come directly from my hands. No one else's." He promises.

Fleur stares at him for a moment before a grin stretches across her face, "good Ron, for a moment I was worried you were a, what was it? A right tosser." She says before leaving the room.

For a moment he's left shocked by her words, wondering why she'd say such a thing. Then suddenly, his mind flashed to how he closed every single letter to Bill: A right tosser, Ron.

"Oh Merlin," he grumbled red as a tomato, "Bill!" He bellows as Fleur's giggles float from the steps.


I thought it'd be fun to explore the Fleur/Hermione relationship, sure it differs from the books but I prefer this version. Next chapter is a big one! Please review

Here's a preview:

"Look Hermione there are so many things I want to," he pauses, "no that I need to tell you, that you deserve to know." A shaky breath pushes past his lips as he runs a hand through his shaggy hair, "Merlin, I dunno where to start, I guess maybe with,"

Crack.

They jumped, Ron's gift for her, that he had been holding, toppled onto the grass.

"What was that?" Hermione asks suddenly startled, hand reaching into her waistband for her wand.

Please review/comment who it could be!