A/N: Just wanted to add a note that I'm writing this Ballads series out of order because back when I wrote You'll Lose A Good Thing, I didn't know it was going to turn into a series. Now it's about filling in the gaps to how we get to those events

And now back to the feels

Chapter 2

With the dishes done, Fleur stands up and removes her apron. Grabbing the overflowing basket of clean laundry, she goes upstairs to begin the task of putting away clothes and remaking the beds. They haven't had overnight guests in a while, she just likes to make sure the guest beds have fresh sheets. A habit from when the cottage was a safe house for the Order.

She starts with her room, using her wand to separate Bill's clothes from hers and place them in dresser drawers and wardrobes. With the bedsheets, she decides to put them on herself. The peaceful monotony of the task helps keep her thoughts calm even as they continue to root around in hidden spaces.

The Triwizard Tournament is one such hidden space. She doesn't talk about that year much. Nowadays, many tend to forget she was a champion and she likes it that way. But in solitary moments, she often wonders about that year. What if she made different choices? What if certain events played out differently? What would her life be like right now if Cedric Diggory lived?

Identifying a potential mate comes from skin-to-skin contact, so she knew Cedric was a potential mate as soon as they shook hands in the trophy room after they were chosen as Triwizard champions. The resulting sensation is felt by both parties, although only a Veela knows what it means. It starts with a tingling at the point of contact which turns into a rush of attraction. The intensity of that attraction varies depending on the duration of the touch as well as on whether one has strong feelings for someone else.

The handshake with Cedric was quick, and she felt the mutual spark of attraction. She saw how he looked at her as they waited for the tournament officials to arrive, and how he easily brushed aside the effects of her thrall, which in her excitement she had trouble containing. This ability to push the thrall away is expected in potential mates. Others can overcome it, too, after they get used to being around her, or if they have a strong will. Before she could decide how to proceed, there was the sudden commotion of Harry Potter being chosen as a champion. In the days that followed, she learned that Cedric was interested in a student named Cho Chang, which explained why he didn't try to start anything with Fleur.

He was handsome, well-liked, and distinguished by the goblet's selection, yet Fleur stayed away. She wanted to focus on the tournament and she also didn't want to interfere with what was developing with Cho. Veela are taught to be patient and to respect the choices of their potential mates. To prevent any other external pressures, Fleur didn't tell anyone. Not her family nor her friends. Her plan was to use the schoolyear and tournament to learn about her potential mate from a distance and see where it went from there.

Their compatibility didn't mean they would automatically fall in love; it just meant they could more easily fall in love if they got to know each other. She was definitely interested in him, but there was no hurry. Why not enjoy her time at a foreign school a bit more? Her brief involvement with Roger Davies was well-known thanks to the Yule Ball. Less known was Whitney in Ravenclaw earlier in the year. Whitney was smart and funny but they weren't out yet and were uncomfortable with the publicity of the tournament after the first task, so it ended amicably. There was also a Hufflepuff named Natalie who asked to dance with her at the Yule Ball, inspiring Fleur to ask her out a couple of weeks later. She was sweet and they had a nice time for the month it lasted.

Aside from those minor exploits, most would probably describe her personality that year as aloof. Underwhelmed by the school itself and the weather, feeling more homesick than she anticipated, and annoyed by gawking Hogwarts and Durmstrang students, it was safer to put on an air of indifference like she was above it all. But inside, Fleur was giddy. Inside, she was twirling about in her teenage crush like a stick gathering candy floss. Admittedly, her performance in the tournament was disappointing, and she took those hits the way any overachiever would, worried how Cedric would view her, but not even that could dampen her optimism for the future as the third task approached.

Then Cedric died. And it was more devastating than it had any right to be. All those possibilities, all of her daydreams about what could happen if he and Cho broke up. It wasn't love, there weren't enough conversations for that, but she was more attached than she realized. And the idea of him, the hope for love that he represented… that was what died along with him.

War was on the horizon, and if the loss of a potential mate could hurt like that, over someone she hadn't even set her heart on, then she didn't want to put herself at risk of feeling that way ever again.

It was nice to see a familiar face in Bill Weasley when she began working at Gringotts. He was just as handsome and charming as she remembered from their brief introduction before the third task. Attractive and mature, he was the perfect distraction.

Passing the time with Bill was fun. They enjoyed exploring the town and each other. His connections to the Order and to Harry also meant she was well-positioned in her commitment to fight Voldemort. If at times he got frustrated with her unwillingness to be more open with him and share her inner self, it didn't take much to redirect his attentions.

After Bill told her he loved her for the first time, she at first demurred. Fleur did love him, more than any of her previous entanglements, but it was closer to a dear fondness than the kind he felt. Maybe she would have felt more if she wasn't so guarded with her heart. Telling him this might lead them to break up, though. Bill was reliable. Attentive. They did have their moments of closeness, their moments of comfort. If they stayed together, she was sure she could find satisfaction with that. Perhaps in time, she might be able to allow her love for him to grow. So, after a particularly romantic night together she told him she loved him, too.

It wasn't long before he wanted to take the next step, and brought up marriage and the future. At this, a twinge of guilt flared. He deserved to know at least some of what he would be getting himself into. In order for him to understand what she was about to tell him, Fleur first had to explain what a mate was. As expected, Bill asked if she ever met any, and she said yes but that they were gone and she was perfectly content to never pursue another. Surprisingly, he didn't express any overt jealousy. He simply took her at her word, even accepting her silence at his question about their identity. Perhaps by then he was used to her reticence.

Fleur never considered motherhood a particular calling for her. It wasn't that she didn't want to be a mother; she loved children and loved babysitting for her cousins. She just didn't give parenthood itself much thought back then. It was something she took for granted in the same way she used to take bonding with a mate for granted. Even the decision to stay away from potential mates only considered protecting her heart.

But this was marriage and deserved more careful deliberation.

She reflected long and hard on what giving up biological children would mean, and on what it would mean to settle for a safe love rather than a true one. They would never know passion and happiness together the way her parents and grandparents did, nor the utter delight that bond mates took in each other's presence and with the children brought about by their love. On the other hand, there were other joyous and perfectly valid ways to become parents if that's what they wanted.

There were also things about their relationship which occasionally put them at odds. His unease with Fleur wanting a more active role in the Order. His comments about how well she could take care of their home which were made whenever she talked about developing her career as a curse-breaker. In the end, she decided the stability she felt with Bill would be worth it.

Using the bluntest language Fleur knew, she explained there was no magic in existence, no muggle science or technology, that would allow her ova to be fertilized by anyone other than her bond mate. She would never bear his children.

He told her he understood. He said it wasn't important. He assured her he wanted a life with her.

And now, after all of that, it's infuriating that Bill has taken it back and doesn't trust her word on this. As if he knows better than millennia of Veela knowledge. He's also completely refused to consider alternatives. How did she miss this stubborn streak of his? It's like arguing with a stranger.

Her guilt twists inside. It's not as if she ever really let him know her either. She's done things, kept her own truths from him, starting with letting him believe she loves him as much as he loves her. Her husband, who is remorseful for putting this distance between them. Who thinks all will be well again if she can only come to his side. Who is completely unaware of how far away she really is.

Fleur can't hold it against him for changing his mind or for being so bullheaded about it. People change. They grow. Become influenced by new experiences. They can feel with absolute clarity that they'll never want something, and then later discover they have no idea how they'll ever be able to live without it.

When faced with that dilemma, anyone can be driven beyond reason.

::

Fleur opens her eyes and lifts her head slightly, turning towards the bedroom door. There's a storm outside, but her hearing as a Veela is sharp and she can make out her muffled name through the walls. As smoothly as she can, she slips out of bed without disturbing Bill, and pads her way out of the bedroom and to the room across the hall. Not bothering to knock, she slowly opens the door and hears Hermione's quiet crying.

It was another nightmare, the girl calling out for her in the dark, and Fleur came as she always does. The brunette notices her after she enters the room and closes the door. Sniffling, the witch rolls over and makes room in the bed, holding the blankets open as Fleur climbs in after her.

Laying behind Hermione's back, she carefully wraps an arm over her waist and settles her head on the pillow, listening to the rain outside.

"You're safe, Hermione," she whispers.

"Safe as houses," the brunette mutters as she struggles to even out her shuddering breaths. Hermione grabs her arm and pulls it more tightly around her. With her front now pressed to the witch's back, Fleur inches her head backwards, giving more space between her and Hermione's hair. She's very familiar with the girl's scent but burying her face in the girl's hair is too intimate, too much like lovers entwined, and she's not here for that. She's just comforting a scared and crying friend.

The blonde quietly waits, wondering at the tension she feels in the warm body in front of her. Sometimes they fell asleep like this, or they talked for a little while, either about the nightmare or something else to get the girl's mind off it. It isn't unusual for Hermione to be tense in these moments as she calms down and decides what she needs, but there's something different tonight.

After a while, Hermione says, "Tell me something else. Have you met potential mates before Bill?"

Fleur licks her lips. She thought the girl was done with the topic from two days ago when subsequent conversations focused on other things. But Hermione is shaking as she asks for distraction from the terrors that won't leave her. And Fleur doesn't have the heart to deny her.

"My family and I went on a short skiing holiday the summer before the tournament year, before the Quidditch World Cup, and on the day we were checking out of the lodge, Gabrielle got into some mischief in the lobby. She went chasing after an errant flying paper swan, risking our discovery to les non-magiques all around us, and she bumped into an American family who was checking in, accidentally knocking down this girl who looked to be around my age. I ran over, swiftly apologizing and offering my hand to pull her up."

"And that's when you knew?"

Fleur hums and replies, "As a Veela, the sensation is unmistakable."

"Did she feel it, too?"

"Oui, I believe so. If her heart were free, she would've felt what I felt, though she wouldn't have known what it truly meant."

The witch falls silent, and Fleur knows this detail is being filed away for later examination and future questioning.

Hermione finally asks, "What happened?"

"Nothing. We were leaving. I suppose I could've asked for her phone number or address but we didn't know each other, she was from the United States, and she wasn't magical. Imagine the start to that conversation. Besides, I barely turned seventeen a few months before. Far too soon to start falling over myself for a lifelong love, non?"

"True," Hermione chuckles. "Then again, you met Bill at the end of the tournament year, right? So not too young for that."

The answering chuckle that would agree and let the witch believe Bill is her mate strangles itself in her throat.

"I… there was someone else. At Hogwarts. I've never told anyone this."

The bookworm turns around to face her. It's dark but Fleur can feel her curious gaze.

"Who?" Hermione asks.

Fleur closes her eyes and whispers, "Cedric."

Hermione gasps and the next thing Fleur knows, she's pulled into a tight hug. Tears sting her eyes but she's able to blink them away. The old grief still washes over her, however, and soon she's trembling and clutching onto the woman's back. Hermione doesn't let go and she makes soothing sounds of comfort. Fleur appreciates how the witch knows that she doesn't need to hear platitudes. Holding her is enough.

After a while, as the storm outside eases, Fleur tells her the story. How she decided not to pursue him, and how his feelings for Cho were strong enough to not be swayed by his attraction to Fleur. How she didn't fall in love, but that she still daydreamed over what possibilities might exist for them after graduation. How it was his death which influenced her decision to get the position at Gringotts so that she could stay in the country and fight. How it caused her to not want to meet another potential mate.

Hermione listens with utmost care and attention, occasionally pressing their foreheads together when the blonde has to take a moment to compose herself. Fleur has never felt more understood, more seen. To finally unburden herself. To talk about Cedric and have someone else know how important he was to her. And being in Hermione's arms makes her feel like nothing else can touch her.

"Fleur, I have a confession to make. I heard you and Bill in the kitchen after the others went to bed."

"Oh," Fleur whispers, slowly pulling away and turning onto her back. She wonders if this is the reason for Hermione's earlier tension. It wasn't an argument exactly, but anyone witnessing the exchange would certainly have questions. Bill made an offhand remark about Tonks having the baby any day now, and he had this look on his face, like he was blaming her. Instead of holding her tongue, something she should've done considering they had an agreement to not discuss it while the others were here, she snapped and said the blame was his. That he knew what marrying her would mean and did so anyway.

"What was it about?"

Fleur sighs. "He wants children and I can't give that to him."

"Oh. Are you…? I mean, it's okay if you are–"

She snorts lightly. "It's a bit more complicated than that."

"He's not your bond mate, is he?"

Her breath hitches and she turns her head, staring into eyes that look like her answer will change everything. She led the girl to this, she knows she did, and her mind warns there's still time to back away. Still time to deflect and disappoint with vague answers. But the soft breath on her face, the gentle fingers on her arm and moving up to hold her hand, the fluttering in her heart, they urge her forward.

"He is not."

::

Fleur goes to the two guest rooms on the third level before going back down to tidy the room across from hers. After the bed is made, she sits on the edge of it, remembering that night and its aftermath.

Hermione didn't ask further questions, letting that knowledge about Bill settle until they fell asleep in each other's arms. And early the next morning, after a gentle hand squeeze and an exchange of heartfelt thank you's, Fleur left the room feeling weightless and free. She knew Hermione was a kind witch and was loyal to those she cared about, but that night she experienced her care firsthand. It felt good to feel connected like that to someone. To her. She couldn't stop herself from thinking about the time she was given. How she shouldn't squander it like she did with Cedric.

His death prompted her to never want to care about another mate, yet it was the opposite with Hermione. Instead of reinforcing her decision, Fleur looked down at the broken girl on this very bed and the thought of getting away to protect herself from losing her was abhorrent. Fleur needed to be at Hermione's side. Then the girl survived and it felt like salvation, and the younger witch wasn't the only one who healed over the coming weeks.

Fleur's hand splays over the bedspread, the same one that kept Hermione warm. The one she would tug up around them as she held the witch after her nightmares.

A short, bitter laugh bursts out of her throat.

She was a fool back then to think she could hold herself back. What happened at her wedding reception was proof enough of that. Here at the cottage, with every touch, with every probing question, her willpower thinned to nothing, her resistance a feeble thing in the face of such tender pressure.

The truth is that Fleur lowered as many walls as Hermione wanted to cross, with little regard to the consequences.

Because Fleur wanted Hermione to know her.

And she wanted to know her potential mate, too.

A/N: Thanks for reading!

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ceMR: Ballads heartbreak is good heartbreak lol