Chapter 5

As she walks back, Fleur thinks more about those days after the transplanting was done. In those few hours between breakfast and lunch that were theirs.

The two of them were so eager to make the most of that time. Breakfast was a whirlwind of making sure there was enough for everyone, Hermione waking up early to help so she and Fleur could hastily consume theirs, often finishing just as the others joined them and started serving themselves.

After watering and checking the garden for pests, they engaged in short duels on the beach and dunes, always making sure to stay within the boundary of the fidelius charm. Hermione was not a warrior, she never trained like Fleur had, but she was quick-thinking and generally clear-headed under pressure, which would help against more battle-hardened enemies. Since there hadn't been enough time to teach Hermione more complicated offensive spells, Fleur focused on sharpening the witch's reflexes with an unfamiliar wand. Giving her that extra second or two that could make the difference.

Harry and Ron had their own duels on the beach a couple of times, but Hermione must've talked with them about her only wanting to practice with Fleur because they left the two witches to themselves.

When they were done, they would walk along the beach or sit staring at the sea, their conversations delving deeper.

Trying to fit a lifetime of knowing each other into those short days.

Hermione talked about being muggleborn and learning about magic. How her love of learning had put her at odds with peers long before she started at Hogwarts, which led her to hope it would be different there, only to realize bigotry and bullying existed in the magical world, too.

Fleur shared her early insecurities over not being able to change form. All Veela have magic, no matter how many generations they are away from a full Veela ancestor. It is passed along through the bond of one's parents. The ability to shift and the potency of the thrall, on the other hand, do diminish. Hermione listened with such empathy that Fleur went further into those old feelings of inadequacy than she ever shared with her family. Not Veela enough according to her own self-doubts, and not human enough according to the bigotry she encountered at school.

They understood each other, that inner drive to prove themselves and to prove everyone else wrong, their fears and struggles. Their shared sense of humor. Their ease with each other in the silent moments.

She should've seen it sooner. If she had then maybe…

Fleur blinks herself out of that particular spiral just as she reaches the cottage. Instead of going around to the garden she goes inside.

Once in her bedroom, she strips off her clothes, leaving her hair up in a bun since she won't be washing it, and waves her wand at her wardrobe. A few dresses float out and lay themselves on the bed next to a couple of piles of folded clothes. She assesses the options, not really happy with any of them.

Before all this she might've picked the pale-yellow dress, something reserved and pleasing to Bill and her mother-in-law. But that mask is no longer appealing to her. Not today. Walking over to the wardrobe, she pulls out midnight blue linen trousers and a silver pattern sleeveless blouse, items she purchased recently on a whim. She also takes out an oversized white blazer, humming to herself as she lays it over the trousers, pleased by the more elegant tone of the outfit.

With that settled, she makes her way to the bathroom in the hall to take a shower.

Despite switching soap and shampoo several months ago to avoid the scents that made her think of Hermione, who used those products during her stay, the memories still flit through her mind as soon as the spray of water hits her in the chest. It seems the floodgates are wide open today, and the past won't leave her alone until she relives it all.

::

"Fleur, I know we haven't really talked about it, but if you want to talk about Bill or anything at all… well, I'm sure you haven't had a chance to just complain to a friend since you've been cooped up here all this time. What I mean to say is, I'm here. If you want."

"William is just being stubborn," Fleur says quietly. She thinks of last night, how it had been more than a month since they were last intimate, and how she let his kisses escalate to more only to change her mind, saying she didn't feel comfortable with so many others in the house. He was disappointed but thankfully didn't point out how weak her excuse was, especially considering how often they used to take advantage of silencing charms when she stayed with him at the Burrow back before they were wed.

Hermione links her arm with hers and they walk in silence for a while until Fleur feels comfortable enough to open up further. She ends up ranting about Bill's refusal to accept the facts of her biology. It feels good to say those things out loud to someone, and for Hermione to validate her feelings without trying to offer advice. The witch listens, calling out idiocy and stubbornness when she hears it, and assures Fleur she is right to feel frustrated.

Fleur stays away from discussing what she really feels for her husband, however. Telling Hermione that night how she was reluctant to meet another potential mate after Cedric was as close to the truth as was safe to reveal. Better to let the witch believe her marriage is based on mutual love. And as she continues to remind herself, Fleur does love and care for him enough to keep trying. She does.

::

"I think that's enough for today," says Fleur, holstering her wand as she approaches the other witch. "Remember, don't fight the wand. Your magic is more powerful than what you use to channel it, oui?"

At those words, the witch looks at her curiously.

"Do you know a lot about wandlore?"

Fleur wonders at the practiced nonchalance, like this subject matters more than what she's saying.

"Only what my grandmother taught me. Veela have their own magic and don't require wands, although sometimes part Veela will find it easier to use one. When I had trouble wielding magic wandlessly, she donated her hair and commissioned my wand. As I learned to master the magic from my father's side, she and my mother refocused my lessons to help me understand how to channel my Veela magic through it, too, though they were still determined that I keep trying at wandless Veela magic, and eventually I did learn. I've just grown accustomed to my wand so I tend to use it more. But back to your question, I know that different types of wands handle better in our hands than others; wands choose their masters and form varying levels of allegiances to them. But you should never underestimate an adversary using a wand they haven't won – they can still be just as effective at killing you."

"I really wish Ollivander sent me a new wand, too, not just Luna. This one just feels wrong," Hermione grumbles, staring down at the wand in her hand distastefully.

"But you are starting to forget that fact when you duel. You can't think about how much better it could feel. Your magic comes from you. Don't overthink it. Act, don't hesitate. T'as compris?"

::

"The other day you mentioned your birthday was last month?" Hermione asks from her spot in front of a Moly plant, next to the dittany in front of which Fleur is kneeling.

"Oui, the sixteenth. I'm twenty-one now, though it feels like thirty," chuckles Fleur.

"I'll be nineteen in September," the brunette murmurs. "Well, erm, here. It's a little thing, hopefully next year I can get you something nicer, but this is for your birthday. Belatedly."

Hermione holds out a small cowrie shell in her hand. Fleur takes it, admiring the lavender, almost blue color with the three dark spots on it. She's seen these shells before, mostly pink ones, but Hermione picked this one out from the beach for her. Smiling to herself, she carefully puts it in the pocket of her skirt, thinking of where she'll put it on her dresser.

"Merci, Hermione," Fleur whispers. The two witches smile as they work tying their respective plants to short garden stakes.

After a couple of minutes, Hermione speaks again. "You have something on your cheek?"

Fleur looks up, her brows knitting together.

"What is it?" Fleur asks, removing one of her gloves and wiping at her cheek. If it's a bug, she hopes it hasn't bitten her.

"Wait, it's right here," Hermione says, leaning over.

Missing the twinkle in the witch's eyes, Fleur is suddenly met with garden soil being swiped across her cheek.

Fleur's mouth drops open in shock. Did Hermione just…?

A giggle and another smear across her forehead bring her out of her shock. She immediately grabs a clump of dirt and throws it at the brunette, hitting her on the shoulder. Soon they're chasing after each other down to the beach, laughing all the while, feeling young and alive and carefree.

::

"How have the nights been?" Fleur inquires after they've been walking for a few minutes.

"Fine. Different. Luna usually wakes me up before it gets too bad. But I miss…"

The brunette trails off but Fleur knows what she means. Their recent conversations have brought them closer than those early ones in the guest room ever did, but it doesn't make up for how she misses holding Hermione. She misses her warmth under the covers. Her softness. The safety she felt when she was the one wrapped up in Hermione's arms.

"I miss it, too," confesses Fleur.

Sensing they are on dangerous ground, Fleur draws her wand and points to where they are. "Here's good. Let's begin."

::

"Do you think my parents will forgive me, Fleur?" Hermione asks, checking the leaves of the beach rose bush for pests. She's taken a particular liking to this bush and Fleur enjoys watching her take care of it.

"I find it hard to imagine anyone not forgiving you anything," Fleur replies with a fond smile.

Hermione smiles but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. She stands up and brushes the sand off her knees.

Fleur can tell she's organizing her thoughts so instead of pressing, she goes into the garden to begin watering the pots. The brunette follows, stopping to stand next to her.

"I'm serious, though," she says slowly, the tremor in her voice betraying the rise of emotion. "What I did… I didn't even warn them or give them a choice. And the worst part is that I'd do it again. So what kind of daughter does that make me?"

It's been a while since they've spoken about Hermione's eventual plans to find her parents and restore their memories, and her fears over what would happen afterwards. Not since Fleur listened to her tearful confessions in bed after a nightmare.

Fleur sets down the watering can and places a hand on her shoulder. The witch turns her face away but she can't hide how her body shakes as she tries to hold it in.

"Hermione, what you did wasn't borne out of malice…"

A muffled sob has Fleur pulling her into a tight embrace. They stay like that as the girl succumbs to her torment and cries.

When Hermione begins to calm, Fleur whispers against her temple. "You had to protect them, Hermione. You did protect them. And they love you, of that I am sure. One day they will realize how much danger they were really in. So much danger you were willing to sacrifice your relationship with them just to keep them safe. Maybe it'll be hard at first, but do not lose hope or give up. Forgiveness sometimes takes time."

The witch nods, burying her face in Fleur's neck, hands and fingers digging into her back. Minutes go by before Hermione finally pulls away, sniffling as she wipes her face.

Hoping to ease the tension, Fleur says, "I'll bet your parents will forgive you before my grandmother ever forgives me for not marrying a mate and giving her petits-enfants."

An exasperated smile crosses the witch's face. Fleur has mentioned her grandmother Zelia Desjardins in other conversations, and how she believes her granddaughter rejected Desjardins clan traditions by marrying Bill.

"She's a fool, Fleur. She should be proud to have a granddaughter who's willing to buck expectations and make her own way in the world."

Her tone is firm and admiring, and Fleur is flattered but the feeling deflates when she remembers her reasons for marrying Bill were not so noble or empowering.

The brunette looks around and takes a deep breath.

"It really is beautiful here, Fleur. There's a harshness to it, but I think that's what I like about it. You've no idea what being here has done for me, how healing it's been to put my energy towards growing something rather than seeking to destroy… well…" Hermione pauses and glances out the gate. "I just wish I could see what those beach roses will eventually look like. And the rose hips."

Fleur smirks. "Looking forward to trying my tasty hips?"

Hermione splutters and blushes, and then she laughs. The sound makes the butterflies flurry in Fleur's stomach, and she can't help her own blush. But instead of following up with another flirtation as she would've done before, Fleur gestures towards the beach, and the two leave the garden for their walk.

::

The morning's dueling practice doesn't last very long. Towards the end, Hermione says she's ready and that she doesn't want to spend these last few days fighting.

Fleur relents, albeit reluctantly, and as they walk back, she notices the brunette's growing agitation.

Suddenly Hermione stops, flustered, and before Fleur can ask what's wrong, she says, "Tell me more about Veela and potential mates."

It's Fleur's turn to feel flustered. They haven't directly talked about this since that night when Fleur told her about Cedric, with only a passing reference to it when discussing her current situation with Bill. She's uncertain whether Hermione has asked because she knows (and she must surely know by now) or whether it's her boundless curiosity. Part of her wishes the witch would just confront her, but the other part worries that bringing it out into the open would mess things up.

"What do you wish to know?" Fleur asks evenly. The two continue walking back. "I should warn you. There are things that are only shared amongst Veela and their bond mates, or with a potential mate a Veela is courting…"

That last part is not completely true. As her potential mate, Fleur has some leeway in how much she can tell Hermione. She's already told her more than she's ever told Bill.

"Whatever you're comfortable sharing, of course. From the things you've said, I gather you identify them by a touch. But what about choice? Does the potential mate find themselves unable to resist falling in love? What about the Veela? And given that there are multiple potential pairings for a Veela, how does the Veela know which one to choose?"

It isn't hard to understand why Hermione is asking these questions. Hiding their attraction to each other has been increasingly difficult these last several days. The frequent staring when each thinks the other isn't looking. The soft words and lingering touches. The heat between them when Hermione responds to her flirting in kind. It makes sense for her potential mate to wonder if she has any choice in the matter.

"There is always choice, Hermione. The connection between mates doesn't create attraction, it only points out something that would be felt anyway. Others can feel a pull to someone just by looking at them but they cannot know how well they'll fit overall. We can. Veela magic is able to determine whether a person's personality and attributes are a perfect match to ours. When a Veela first touches a potential mate, and if their hearts are available, both Veela and mate feel a rush of attraction, and it has to be that strong to get their attention, to let them know the other person is special."

"And after that?"

"After that… well, they can choose to get to know each other and let mutual attraction turn into the purest, happiest love they'll ever know. Or not. Again, it's up to them. I didn't chase after that American girl I met. Cedric was still early in his feelings for Cho but he chose to follow through on them rather than try anything with me. Veela do occasionally choose partners who aren't mates, although those relationships are at risk of ending if a Veela meets and sets their heart on a mate." Fleur looks away as she says this, knowing Hermione's thoughts will immediately go to her marriage to Bill. "And Veela respect our mates' choices. Just because someone is a potential mate doesn't mean we are entitled to their affection, or vice versa."

Hermione clears her throat. "Aside from the perfect compatibility and true love, I'm assuming another reason it's common for a Veela to bond with a mate is the reproductive issue."

Fleur hums and nods. "That and a collective desire to preserve our culture and traditions."

She's talked enough about Veela for Hermione to know there are only a few independent clans in the world now. Most Veela, her ancestral clan included, are fully integrated into the wizarding world, following wizarding governments and laws. But many Veela descended from the Desjardins clan still gather with Veela from around the world to train and learn more about their people and their magic.

"What if it doesn't work out?"

"Choosing to bond depends on different things, as it does with any commitment. If after getting to know one another, the potential mate decides bonding with a Veela is not what they want, the hurt stings of course. But if the Veela's heart is not set on them, it doesn't take too long to get over it so they can be open to the next potential mate. It is much more difficult for a Veela to get over someone their heart is set on, even if the bond is never sealed. That mate is thought of as their chosen in their heart and any other potential mates who cross their path after that will typically be ignored."

"That phrase, the way you put it – 'their heart is set'. What do you mean?"

"In simple terms, it means they're in love with a mate. Don't get me wrong, we can fall in love with non-mates, too. But when a Veela sets their heart on a potential mate, the feeling that settles inside, it's love and it's also joy and revelation and desire and steadfastness, everything coming together in a soul fulfilling love for that one person they've chosen to be their bond mate. Our magic and biology have evolved to allow our hearts to settle this way when we make our choice, deepening into permanence after the bond is sealed."

"Can you tell me more about the sealed bond?"

Fleur smiles and shakes her head in apology. "Not more than what I shared with you when I first told you about potential mates, or just now."

Hermione huffs. "Fine. What about the thrall? I, erm… at the Quidditch World Cup, I didn't feel anything. Not even in fourth year when you arrived. But after that year, when I saw you again, I did feel a tingle around you. Like right now, only it's very faint and I don't really notice it unless I'm concentrating."

Fleur likes how cute she is when she's nervous. Her tight expression, gaze straight ahead; she has to resist pulling her into a hug. And she's not sure Hermione realizes the opening she's given her.

It also happens to be relevant to the witch's question, which is why she asks, "When did you realize it was more than boys you liked?"

"Oh," Hermione gasps. She looks down as they walk more slowly along the beach. They're in front of the cottage now, within sight of whoever's watching. Hermione makes an almost imperceptible nod to herself. "In retrospect, I think I had an idea in the middle of fourth year, but I didn't truly realize and accept it until fifth year. But I haven't dated – I mean, the times I really fancied anyone were with boys… and I never got around to telling my parents. The only others that know are Harry and Ron. It sort of came out several months ago when we were trying to distract ourselves with talk about celebrities we found attractive, and I mentioned a couple of women. Harry was great about it. Unfortunately, it exacerbated some of Ron's insecurities."

Hermione mutters under her breath, and Fleur turns to the ocean, hoping to not hear more about the Weasley boy. When she turns back, she sees the frown on the witch's face and wants to wipe it away.

"Since you didn't know or feel attracted to women at that time, the thralls of those Veela at the World Cup wouldn't have affected you, no matter how much of it they unleashed at the game. Our thralls only affect those mature enough and who've accepted that part of themselves. Plus, those who have a strong will are able to more easily resist the allure. Most people also get used to it over time. And while it can never be turned off, I typically keep mine to a minimum, so a tingle or a temporary effect is not unexpected."

Hermione hums in response, thinking over Fleur's explanation.

Even though Fleur has left out the other reason Hermione is able to shake it off so easily, she still waits to see if Hermione will finally admit why she's asked these particular questions today. There is still worry over what that would do to their friendship, but Fleur is determined to answer truthfully if she does bring it up.

She doesn't.

The bookworm opens her mouth and then tilts her head towards the cottage, saying they should head in, and starts walking towards it.

Fleur is strangely disconcerted. Her mind argues nothing can come of it anyway, so she should just let it be. But something else brushes at the back of her mind and the edges of her heart, telling her what she's really feeling is disappointed.

::

She drops her head as the soap rinses from her body. As fraught as those days were, the hours in the garden and on the dunes with Hermione were the happiest of her life.

Even if the bookworm hadn't been a potential mate, Fleur would've loved her.

Hermione was just so remarkable. Her mind and the kindness and empathy she had for others. It was just… everything. Everything about her was intriguing and enthralling. The chuckles under her breath and the full-on belly laughs that had them falling to their knees on the beach. Fleur marveled at how expressive she could be one moment and then completely unreadable the next. She wanted to memorize every nuance, every shade of honey-brown her eyes could be.

Fleur sighs and makes sure she's fully rinsed, turns off the shower, and grabs a towel.

Like flipping through her personal photo album, images and conversations continue to flash through her mind. She tries to hold onto that lightness she felt on the beach before coming inside, letting all aspects of the memories wash over her in the hopes of catharsis. An attempt at accepting the past, the turmoil and uncertainty as well as the brighter moments, and the brief happiness of those days together.

But it's hard. When she sees how they essentially continued their dance from the wedding – that push and pull between restraint and indulgence – it's hard not to question, not to punish herself.

For all the times she didn't hold back.

And for all the times she did.

A/N: Yes, I know, lots of flashbacks in this one. But I wanted to spend more time in that bubble they created for themselves. To allow them time to know each other better, and for us to see it happening. Don't worry, things will start shaking up in the next chapter.

I'll be taking a brief hiatus so that I can spend time working on my submission for Fleurmione Week 2022 next month. One fic for sure, maybe more if I have time. I'll get back to working on this story after Fleurmione Week is done.

Thanks again so much for reading and sticking with this fic!

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wkgreen: Thanks!