"You're telling me that Fleur, half veela, who acts like she's better than everyone, phlegm, got down and dirty with you?" Ginny incredulously asks as you recount your past two weeks with the quarter veela.
Your friends around you look at you in stunned awe with the exception of the fiery red-head as she looks at you quizzically.
"It would be great if you didn't call her that," you reply in turn, this earns you another questioning look from the red-headed witch.
"But you've called her that too?" she states.
"Yes and I was young and childish and she's my wife now," you respond in turn.
"Who are you and what have you done with Hermione?" Ron asks as he looks at you with a quizzical look of his own.
"Oh honestly Ronald, we were both thrown into an unfortunate situation against our wills, we're two very opinionated individuals with strong wills," you respond in turn, this seems to pacify the red-headed friend as he nods in agreement after a few seconds.
"I don't buy it, she was absolutely bloody horrible to you for months," Ginny counters, Harry beside her gives you an apologetic look.
"And she's apologized since," you counter in turn, a day after your breakthrough moment she'd stopped you right as you were headed to bed and apologized for her actions.
Had surprised you really as you hadn't expected it.
In its own way it served as the catalyst to the wonderful week you'd had together.
Gardening, giving her a tour of the neighborhood, the local grocery store, the parks.
You'd gone out a few nights to catch a few meals and drinks at the local restaurants and bars.
Although for the latter you'd had to go further into london.
Those were memorable moments as you'd watched Fleur unravel before you and you'd been allowed to "meet" Fleur for the first time.
Her genuine self, not the snobby persona she put on.
Almost as if a switch had been turned off in a way.
You got to experience how fun and happy she could be, got to see her laugh and joke around with you as you'd tried to get a persistent bloke to stop hitting on you one evening.
Had blushed to the tips of your ears as she'd eloquently told him "I would appreciate if 'ou would stop 'itting on mai wife."
You'd stumbled home that night in a fit of giggles.
Had excused yourself rather bashfully as you'd come close to a lip encounter.
You couldn't deny that you'd felt something that night and the days that had come after.
It was odd in its own way how she'd managed to encompass your thoughts in such a short span of time.
It baffled your critical thinking self in all sorts of ways.
But you couldn't deny the pull you felt for the other woman.
And you hoped that it wasn't just in your head.
Especially after all you'd been through.
That even for a moment you too could be allowed to feel happiness.
"Mione? Mione!" the voice of your friends pulls you from your thoughts as you're brought back to the present. They each look at you a tad perplexed. Right you must look a right fool, for they've never seen you in this state.
"You have that same smile you used to get after a study session with Daphne Greengrass," Harry states with a smile.
You don't say anything in response as you allow his words to sink in.
"Oh uh sorry about not warning you about Bill," Ron begins breaking you away from your thoughts.
He looks at you bashfully with a tinge of remorse.
Ginny likewise looks at you with the same expression, "Mum just barely managed to calm Percy down," she explains as she informs you of the drama that unfolded once you and Fleur left the burrow.
It's how you find out that Percy in an odd show of emotion had accused his brother of loyalty for romancing and impregnating his former girlfriend Penelope. The two had been in a relationship prior to the law/spell and he'd been upset about his older brother getting matched with his significant other.
"They nearly came to blows, if it wasn't for Charlie and Dad," Ron informs.
You tuck this bit of information away for later as you listen to your friends animatedly go about the new happenings at the ministry and the numerous amounts of pregnancies that have resulted.
"And so when can we expect one of you to announce one," you jest as your friends dissolve into varying shades of red and retorts of "we're too young!"
Babies.
Now that's a thought.
Xxxxxxx -
"Is everyzing alright?" you look up at the words spoken by your companion as you take your gaze away from the parchment in hand. Another letter from Kinglsley inviting you to join his team at the ministry, you'd be starting as a junior undersecretary.
The position provided excellent pay, great hours, and work-life management.
But you couldn't bring yourself to accepting for all that the job seemed too good to be true.
You weren't even a Hogwarts graduate, a drop-out in all actuality. You couldn't justify accepting the position on the basis of your connections.
Not to mention that you were still rather cross with Kingsley's administration for enacting the Spell and subsequent law that had resulted in your marriage.
It felt like you would be betraying your morals.
You take a deen breath as you look up, Fleur's kind eyes stare back at you in expectation.
"Just another letter from Kingsley," you utter as you hand the letter over to your blonde companion, she takes it in hand and looks over its contents before speaking.
"It seems like a good position non?" she inquires, a question more than a statement.
"Its the principle of it, I can't bring myself to accept it knowing I don't agree with his administration's current actions," you respond.
She nods in turn as she mulls your words over.
"Zen don't," she offers simply.
You look up at her in perplexion, "Then they'll simply send others until I do,"
She looks at you in amusement at your words.
"Zen I will cast a blocage de la chouette spell," she responds.
With your limited knowledge of the french language you simply stare at her in turn and respond, "An owl blocking spell?"
She nods at you in turn.
"Oui, in france whenever zere is courrier zat we do not wish to receive we simply cast such a spell and ze owl is instructed to return to zer sender,"
"That simple? Just like that?" you respond, ah the pitfalls of growing up a muggleborn.
"Oui," Fleur responds as she gets up walks past you, placing an affectionate hand on your shoulder as she goes.
She stands in the middle of the room and swishes her wand a round a few times while chanting "ut auferat non receperint" a bright light blue light shoots out as it encompasses what you assume is the entirety of your home before dissipating.
"Zere, now ze cannot bozer you," Fleur states with a smile as she walks back to her seated position across from you and resumes her meal,
You'd gotten home rather late the night previous from your time with your friends and had woken up to the pleasant smell of coffee and eggs.
Fleur had made you breakfast and you were glad for the food.
You'd thanked her and were about to tuck into your meal when a ministry owl had zoomed in through your open kitchen window.
You both settle back into your meals and continue on in comforting silence.
The domesticity of it fills you with an odd warmth.
"Are 'ou doing anyzing of note today?" Fleur asks you as you look up at her in surprise.
"Not in particular, I just need to water the plants," you respond in turn.
She nods at your words and responds, "would 'ou be open to coming to france wiz me zis afternoon?" you startle at her words.
"France?" your only reply.
She nods at your question in turn and responds, "My mozer and fazer would like to meet 'ou,"
You look at her in mild alarm, this seems to amuse her as she looks at you in amusement.
"They want to meet me?"
"Oui, zey want to meet ze person who 'as been deemed my most perfect match," she responds with a light roll of the eyes. Where before this might have irked you and you might have taken it as another jibe at you. Now it is lighthearted and you know that Fleur means no malice behind it.
"And am I? Your most perfect match?" you playfully respond, this catches Fleur off guard momentarily before she smirks at you responds in equal playfulness.
"Zat remains to be seen, but I would like to find out," this catches you off guard completely as you stutter for a moment before responding. If her even wider smirk she currently has is anything to go by she has seen your sputter and the subsequent blush that has appeared on your cheeks.
"R-Right, well I don't see why we couldn't go to france this afternoon, what time do we leave?" you ask her as you make an attempt at collecting yourself.
She smiles at you and responds, "I can obtain a portkey for quarter past noon,"
- xxxxxxx -
FLEUR
I was born to privilege, to the Delacour Family of France. A magical family that at one point used to rule over the country.
The Delacour Family is a noble and proud family that is rich in its history of civility, honor and dedication. Honor bound to serve France and uphold its virtues.
These ideals were ingrained into me from a young age.
The expectations great as my magic emerged as a babe, no doubt the result of my being 1/4th veela on my mother's side.
My father a pureblooded wizard that married a half blooded veela witch. Their union caused quite a stir amongst the french wizarding nobility and thus much was placed on my shoulders.
The expectation to excel, to thrive and succeed my father one day as a powerful head of our House.
I have always been gifted with prodigal-like ability, everything I did and endeavoured to do came easily to me.
And any challenge that came my way, I met head on without fear.
All for the glory of my House.
I braved the Tri-Wizard Tournament against the wishes of my family.
My mother and father did not wish me to endanger myself.
But I did it regardless and I survived.
I was and continue to be the Heir to House Delacour.
There are many things expected of me and dying is not one of them.
Although at times the small voice in the far recesses of my mind want to say otherwise.
I dare not voice those thoughts aloud.
For all the wealth, power and prestige that comes with my name. I've always found myself for want of anything but.
The desire to live free without the confines of my expectations.
And not that the thought to leave it all behind has not crossed my mind, but to do so would mean to pass the torch to Gabrielle.
For all of her free-spirited-ness and flightiness, my little sister would be utterly crushed by the weight of it all.
I've always known that I would one day have to take up my position as the complete and total Heir, with all the perpetuities that come with the title. Take up a position in the French ministry, act on my father's behalf as Lord Delacour. Take a spouse and have some children to continue my line and lead my House as its Head when my father's eventual time came.
I've always known that I would have to take my rightful place.
It was my pre-determined destiny.
And yet I found myself running from it for however long I could.
"Sowing my wild oats" is what my uncle Donatien called it.
And perhaps that's what it was.
For no sooner had I been back from that wretched Tournament, did I find myself back amongst the British, taking up a position at Gringotts.
It was there that I met William.
William Weasley or "BIll" as his family affectionately called him was a charming man that I hadn't been sure of at first.
He'd asked me out several times before I finally rather reluctantly agreed as a way to make peace, he was a charming enough man but was a bit too old for me…..and I wanted to see what life had to offer before settling down with any-one person.
Our first "date" if you could even call it that, was a bit of a disaster. Not that it had been terrible outright, but I quickly found that I held little to no-attraction to him.
And I planned to tell him so the next time we were set to get coffee.
Perhaps it was the atmosphere or the conversation that changed the outcome of our futures, but after he surprised me by purchasing my cup of coffee and waiting for me, cup in hand, did I start to see him a different light.
Where before I had seen no qualities that I found appealing, I started to see his true charm.
Here was a gorgeous man that was kind and sweet and attentive. I'd be a fool not to be with him.
And so our romance and subsequent relationship begin.
We grew close as the war loomed on the horizon, I told him my fears and the expectations I faced back home.
And he did his best to be supportive and assured me that if we were wed then as my husband he could simply tell my parents that I did not wish to be Heir. I would be free to live my life with him.
And while the thought had repulsed me before, to settle down so young when there was still so much to do in the world. I surprisingly found myself elated beyond all conviction to agree with him.
We'd intended to marry before the war broke out but the strong opposition from both of our parents stopped us.
We even thought to elope before the war broke out in full but we found ourselves more concerned with living to the next day and the chaos that had erupted all around us.
And so we waited.
And then this law came to be and ruined all of our plans.
Our potential marriage.
And we found ourselves thrust into unwanted marriages to people we did not love.
Or did not think we could hold such emotions towards when we loved each other.
At least I thought as much.
While I fought and raged and refused to submit to having any sort of relationship with my new spouse, he had been off playing happy family.
While I was absolutely rude and condescending to a young woman that had been nothing but kind to me from the start of our union. He was off impregnating his new spouse.
He did not love me.
Or if he did it surely mustn't have been that strong, for him to throw us and everything we had had aside in an instant.
And to leave me with this complete feeling of wretchedness.
And yet relief, the conflict of emotions warring within as I've found myself intrigued and oddly drawn to this young woman I've been joined too.
This kind and warm woman that's been nothing but kind throughout this entire ordeal and who I currently shaking hands with my father.
She does not cower in the face of a man who for all intents and purposes could have been the King of this country, had my forbearers not seen sense to abdicate in order to bring democracy to our land.
She is muggleborn and does not understand the significance of my family name. Does not act intimidated in the slightest for she is a woman with power of her own.
Perhaps she knows this and is completely aware of the magnitude, the sheer significance, this moment holds and feels emboldened by her own pull in society.
And perhaps she does not and is wholly unaware of the importance of the moment.
Regardless it is a direct contrast to when William met my father, his bravado all but left him when met with the stern look of him.
And even more so when asked if he would be man enough to "accept your place as Fleur's husband, take the Delacour name and understand that any children would be Delacours and not Weasleys,"
No.
William had not liked that and had raged that we would not be going back to France when we'd gone back to our flat.
That.
Had broken me.
"Shall we move to ze sunroom for some coffee?" I hear my mother ask as I'm taken from my reverie.
The emotions of desolation leave me as I fully take in the sight. Hermione standing beside my father going over the current laws in place regarding magical creature rights and the such. It brings an odd feeling within as we're ushered towards the sunroom where a house elf is setting about the promised warm beverages.
"Zey are paid a wage I promise," my father chuckles as if sensing Hermione's unease at the sight of them.
Yes this would prove to be an interesting visit.
xxxxxxx -
"Surely your ministrie is amenable enough to see beyond zeir outdated laws," Clement Delacour, asks as he sits across from his daughter and her spouse. He'd been intrepid about this chosen partner that his eldest had been made to wed, would they be understanding to her station in life? Would they seek to curb her? To command her as if she were no more than a mere extension, a piece of property? He had hoped that the Granger girl would be better than William Weasley, for her sake. For he would rather take an avadakedavra to the head than watch as his pride and joy was brought so low as to debase herself for a lesser being, to be controlled, and be made to adhere to an outdated way of thinking.
So far the Granger girl had proven to be greater than he had hoped. She was open minded, passionate, highly intelligent and she seemed to treat his Fleur with the respect she deserved.
Regardless of her lot in life, her upbringing, and her lack of fortune. Although the latter had no doubtedly changed since the ending of the war across the channel. Regardless, this girl could stand on her own two feet and be considered accomplished in all manner of being. This girl was worthy of his daughter.
"Regrettably, our ministry is stuck in an outdated fashion of governance that needs to be severely re-constructed," Hermione responded as she sat across from her father-in-law.
"Zat is a shame," Clement responded in turn as he mulled over his next choice of words.
"Would you be interested in pursuing a position in a ministrie?" the unspoken offer hanging of his lips as he stared at the young woman before him, his wife beside him taking a keen interest in the young girl's potential answer.
The young woman ponders for a moment, takes a quick side glance at Fleur and then responds.
"Provided I am allowed and able to work in the full capacity of the position, I would be,"
At that response, a house elf appears with a small vial.
"Right on time, zank you Regold," the Delacour Head says in thanks as he takes the vial from the elf who bows his head and disappears with a pop.
"A mild sleeping migraine potion," Clement offers in explanation as he pours the contents of the small vial into his coffee.
"Papa, 'ave your migraine's been getting worse?" Fleur speaks as she looks at her father in concern.
"Nozing to concern yourself wiz ma petite," Clement responds in an attempt to pacify his worried daughter.
Hermione watches the interaction in earnest as she feels the tension from her partner beside her.
"Enough worrying over an old man's trivial problems, now Mademouselle Granger, what are your intentions wiz mai daughter," Clement says with a smirk.
"Papa!"
- xxxxxxx -
"Your father, he was nice," Hermione offers as she and Fleur settle into the room provided to them by the Delacours, an insistence from Apolline Delacour.
"E is reckless," Fleur responds in exasperation as she paces about the room, her old room.
Hermione does not respond not wanting to pry on the off chance her companion may not want to share more on the subject.
"As ze 'ead of our Family 'e 'as many responsibilities and zey weigh on 'im," Fleur goes on as she stops beside a window and looks off into the distance.
"Could he not get an assistant to assist him with his day to day responsibilities?" Hermione asks.
"It iz not 'zat simple, ze Lord Delacour 'as many responsibilities to which only ze Lord can oversee, ze only ozer individual zat could 'elp is ze 'eir," Fleur responds with a sigh as she turns to face Hermione.
"Ah, I see," Hermione responds.
Fleur sighs once more as she catches Hermione's gaze and speaks, "E needs me 'ere,"
"Right," Hermione responds, takes a moment to gather her thoughts to herself before speaking again, "And would you like to move here, back home I mean?"
At Hermione's words Fleur's eyes open in alarm.
'William had not been so amenable'
"Zat would require 'ou to potentially move 'ere, because of ze current law," Fleur states, gaze never wavering from Hermione's. Keeping close watch on the other witches' body language.
Without missing a beat Hermione responds, "I wouldn't be opposed to the idea,"
"It would mean 'ou would 'ave to leave your country, your friends," Fleur asks once more, the incredulity of the current reality shocking her.
"I could always visit via Portkey or Floo call," Hermione responds with a shrug.
"You really mean zat?" Fleur asks, probing. The reality being almost too good to be true.
"I do, I am still a newcomer to the wizarding world and I'm still learning its customs, but I'd be a fool to not understand your responsibilities as the heir to a house rich in history," Hermione reponds, she had done a bit of research into the Delacour family of France and found that they were an important part of french wizarding history.
"William was not zo understanding," Fleur says wistfully as she looks to the side, the memories of his reluctance to support her in her role as heir and eventual Lordship of the Delacour Lands & Estates.
"I'm not Bill," Hermione responds with a side smile, an attempt to convey her support.
"No, you're most definitely not," Fleur says with a small smile.
- xxxxxxx -
"Do come visit again," Clement Delacour states as he shakes hands with Hermione, the next morning.
"I'm sure we will," Hermione responds in turn and pulls her hands only for them to be held in place by her father-in-law and a small envelope to be placed within her own in turn.
"I would appreciate it if you could make sure Fleur takes zees 'erbs as a tea," Clement asks as Hermione looks at him in concern.
"Mai petite chou streeses 'erself too much a trait she inherited from me, but ze veela zey 'ave adverse reactions to potions of all kinds, it iz zeir veela blood zat causes adverse effects and so tea's are zeir only remedy," Clement explains as he lets go of Hermione's hands and the witch nods in understanding.
'Adverse reactions to potions of all kinds' the words stuck to Hermione as they bid Fleur's parents adieu with promises to visit soon.
Portkeying straight into the hallway between their respective rooms, the witches dust themselves off as they get their bearings in check.
"I zink I'm going to catch a few more 'ours of sleep in mai room," Fleur says as Hermione nods in agreement.
"I think I will as well," Hermione responds as she turns to leave before a tug on her arm holds her in place.
"Zank you for what you said ze ozer night, not many are as kind," Fleur says as Hermione turns to face her.
"N-No problem," Hermione finds herself stuttering at the close proximity between herself and Fleur.
Fleur gives her a small smile, "I zink wiz zat I will 'ead to bed," the french witch states as she makes to move to give Hermione a kiss on each cheek in thanks for her understanding.
Hermione can only move her head in response as Fleur moves to place a kiss on each of her cheeks.
Both witches however unaware of the other's exact movement, Fleur to the left and Hermione also the left.
The brush of lips against lips at the miscalculation.
Just as soon as their lips meet do the two spring apart.
"Right well I'll see you for lunch or dinner," Hermione says as she takes a few steps back, Fleur likewise doing the same.
Bringing her hand to her lips Fleur looks back at the british witch and nods as the witch in question gives her one final smile before all but running to her room.
A fluttering emanates from her stomach as Fleur contemplates what's just occurred.