TW: reference to prior sexual assault (not in any detail, just in passing).

A/N: Hi all! Sorry for the hiatus! I was naughty and started another Fleurmione fic as well as dabbling in Cissamione. Then I was trying to go back and fix all the godawful typos in this fic! But here we are, a fresh chapter. Also provided some positive Fleurmione content as a bit of relief from the doom and gloom of the fic :) Hope you enjoy.

As always, feel free to join me in the Harry Potter femslash group on discord if you're 18+ : di scord .gg/d 4wgtA 5jrA

Hermione ran her hand through her curls as she made her way to class after breakfast. She had enjoyed a cup of tea and a chat with Ginny about outfits for the Yule Ball. Ginny was still quietly holding out hope that someone would ask her to the ball, but in the meantime, she had shared a great magazine with Hermione where she could order some formal wear.

Hermione wondered what Fleur would be wearing… She should probably get something that wouldn't clash terribly.

Hermione checked her watch. She still had ample time to get to her Charms class, but wouldn't mind getting there early so she could read up on the relevant chapter before the lesson. With Harry dramas, Fleur, and stressing about the sabotage in the tournament, Hermione was beginning to fall a little behind in classes. Of course, for Hermione, this meant not being several chapters in advance of the class. But still! She had standards to maintain.

Hermione decided to take a shortcut to Charms, turning right after the library and pulling back a tapestry just past a set of knight's armour.

Hermione had no sooner entered the tunnel behind the tapestry when she was suddenly joined by a flawless looking Fleur Delacour.

"Fleur?!" Hermione managed to gasp, before the blonde pressed her against the cool stone wall.

Fleur made no greeting, instead kissing Hermione eagerly. Hermione's surprise melted into affection as she wrapped her arms around the petite blonde. She was sure she would never get used to the thrill of kissing Fleur.

Hermione and Fleur grinned at each other like fools after the kiss broke.

"Keeping it a bit more low-key today, huh?" Hermione teased lightly.

"I don't think I heard a complaint," Fleur countered teasingly.

The students jostling and loudly talking in the hallway on the other side of the tapestry almost drowned out Fleur's soft voice.

"I'm glad you're here anyway," Hermione replied with a smile, "I need to know what you're wearing to the ball."

"A dress," Fleur replied simply, before leaning in to nuzzle her face in the crook of Hermione's neck. Hermione suppressed the urge to shiver at the pleasantness.

"I need more details than that," Hermione insisted, trying to ignore the sensation of Fleur's hot breath on her neck.

"A dark blue dress," Fleur clarified, before kissing gently at Hermione's neck.

"R-right," Hermione replied in a strangled tone, "A-and the whole dress is dark blue? O-or—"

Fleur nipped playfully at Hermione's neck before kissing softly again. Hermione was sure she was about to spontaneously combust.

"Oui," Fleur replied, a slight smirk in her voice. The brat.

Hermione cleared her throat, sure she had meant to talk to Fleur about something else. But then Fleur gently sucked on her pulse point and all rational thought left the mind of the Brightest Witch of her Age.

"Harry," Hermione said breathlessly, arriving to Charms seconds before it started and throwing herself into the empty seat beside the Boy Who Lived.

"You have a hickey," Harry informed her flatly, before getting up and moving to a seat further across the room. Hermione clapped her hand to her neck, inwardly cursing part-Veela who had the nerve to distract her before a class.

"'Mione," Ron hissed from the other side of the seat Harry had just vacated.

Hermione rolled her eyes, expecting an interrogation about how exactly she had got the hickey. Professor Flitwick was already opening his textbook and leafing to the page for the lesson.

"About Harry—" Ron hissed, trying again to get the brunette's attention.

"You don't have to tell me," Hermione whispered back to Ron sharply, mainly to shut him up, "He's still in a mood. I can see that."

"No—"

But Flitwick cut Ron off, opening the class in his squeaky voice. Determined not to be further distracted, Hermione pushed all thoughts of Harry, Ron, Fleur and the Yule Ball out of her mind to focus on the class at hand.

It wasn't until a couple of classes later that Ron finally had an opportunity to talk to her. Hermione was absently stirring a potion at the back of Snape's dungeon, her mind drifting to the kissing session with Fleur from that morning. The memory of Fleur kissing and teasing her neck brought a sudden throb between her legs. Hermione shook her head, cursing quietly.

"You okay? You seem distracted," Ron asked, in a rare show of insightfulness.

Hermione was distracted. It had been a bad lesson from the start. She had ended up at a far table by herself, near Slytherins. Hermione had been hoping to catch Pansy at the start or end of the lesson to try and press her for more details on what she knew, but the raven haired Slytherin wasn't in any of her classes that day. Pansy's attendance record had become gradually more appalling as the year had progressed.

On top of that, Harry was again snubbing her, going to great lengths to sit as far away from Hermione as possible. It was beginning to hurt, as when Ron took a turn sitting by Harry, it reminded Hermione startlingly that she didn't have many friends outside of the boys.

"I'm fine," Hermione dismissed, "Just eager to get this potion over and done with."

"Yeah, Harry's told me to stay well away from our one," Ron said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, "I dunno how, but it's turned bright orange. I don't even think I did anything to it… Probably…"

"At least Harry is still talking to you," Hermione retorted, stirring her own potion with a little too much vigour. A blob of the thick liquid splashed out of the cauldron, landing on the table between them and slowly starting to eat through the material.

"Barely," Ron grumbled, before lowering his voice, "'Mione, I've been trying to get a chance to tell you all day, but Harry's been getting help from M—"

"Weasley, if you're quite done destroying school property," Snape intoned nasally, sweeping over to the table to whip his wand at the table-eating glob of Hermione's potion.

"Sir—"

"Get back to your table or I'll be taking fifty points from Gryffindor," Snape sneered at Ron. Ron groaned, shrugging his shoulders apologetically at Hermione, before sloping back to his own table.

Hermione, alone again, took a deep breath and decided to focus on remedying her too-thick potion.

She blocked out all other thoughts, determined to get her learning back on track.

A half hour later, Hermione was appeased when she elicited a begrudging "acceptable" from Snape regarding her potion. Harry and Ron weren't so lucky, with Snape delighting in ridiculing their potion in front of the class and pointing out every error that had led to its unfortunate condition. Harry and Ron were asked to stay behind so they could collect some "remedial" homework from Snape regarding the potion.

Filing out with the Gryffindors that had escaped Snape's wrath, Hermione was already considering what to do with her evening when a small hand grabbed her own.

"Hermione!" Gabrielle exclaimed brightly, "The Gryffindors were right about you having this class now!"

"Were you waiting for me?" Hermione asked the small girl curiously.

Gabrielle merely beamed proudly, tugging at Hermione's hand.

"I want to give you something," Gabrielle explained, as she tugged Hermione out of the busy crowd of students and off to a quieter side corridor.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, genuinely confused.

Gabrielle looked about the hallway suspiciously, as if she were about to get in trouble.

"I know you're taking Fleur to the ball," Gabrielle began, before sighing heavily, "I have something you can give her that she will love."

"What is it?" Hermione repeated, a curious smile beginning to form on her face at the squirming child.

Gabrielle reached into a pocket, before withdrawing something quickly and holding it up for Hermione to see. In her small hands was a slithering beam of light. It circled around in Gabrielle's hands happily as Gabrielle watched it, fascinated.

"It's a bracelet," Gabrielle explained, "A Veela bracelet, made of light, a strand of Veela hair and pure silver. Fleur thought she lost this a year ago on a family hike, but…"

Gabrielle trailed off briefly, looking even more guilty.

"But it's just so cute!" Gabrielle blurted, "I wanted to keep him as a pet!"

The bracelet slithered around some more in Gabrielle's hands, seeming entirely at peace.

"But it's a bracelet…?" Hermione asked, confused, "So is it living? I'm Muggleborn so I've never seen anything like this."

"Living in the same way chocolate frogs or photographs are!" Gabrielle pouted, "So alive enough. I never had to feed him and could put him away for ages between playing without feeling bad!"

Hermione chuckled good-naturedly. She could only imagine the heavy sigh and annoyance in Fleur's voice if she discovered her baby sister had stolen her bracelet to play with.

"Well, I'm sure Fleur will appreciate getting it back," Hermione said diplomatically.

Gabrielle's face lit up with a dazzling smile.

"It's her favourite bracelet!" Gabrielle grinned, "I know you'll make her so happy returning it to her before the ball!"

Hermione cupped her hands together, allowing Gabrielle to slide the curious beam of light into her hands. The bracelet slithered around in circles quickly, as if adjusting to Hermione. When it finally curled up, contented, Hermione safely pocketed it.

"Thank you, Gabrielle," Hermione said genuinely, "How have you been, anyway?"

"Weird," Gabrielle said with a frown.

Hermione and the small french girl walked together through the chilly hallways of the castle.

"Weird, huh?" Hermione asked absently, her mind mostly on the ball with Fleur.

"Yeah, the past few days in the castle, sometimes I feel a bit spacey or tingly for a bit, but then it passes," Gabrielle rambled, pulling at the straps of her backpack.

"That's no good," Hermione said distractedly as they came to the Great Hall.

"Will you walk me to ze carriage?" Gabriele asked.

"Of course," Hermione smiled, "I have some free time before dinner. What have you been reading lately?"

Gabrielle's little face lit up as she began to recount the latest tale she had been reading, this time about dragons and warlocks. Hermione couldn't help but grin wider— the way Gabrielle lit up when talking about books reminded her so much of herself when she was younger. She just hoped Gabrielle wasn't destined to be ostracised by her peers for it.

When they got to the carriage, Beauxbatons girls were roaming around excitedly gossiping in French. Gabrielle took Hermione to her room and showed her some of the pictures she had been drawing of characters from her books.

Hermione left Gabrielle to draw some more, slipping out of the young girl's carriage room.

In fortuitous timing, she was leaving Gabrielle's room just as Fleur was walking past.

"Hermione! What are you doing here?" Fleur asked, her cool demeanour instantly melting as she spotted the brunette.

"Walking your troublesome sister back to her room," Hermione said with a grin.

Fleur smiled back, taking Hermione's hand and tugging at it lightly.

"Well, would you mind walking another troublesome Delacour to her room?" Fleur asked coyly. Hermione chuckled, though her heartbeat instantly sped up.

Fleur was still in her uniform too, and the silk slid against the back of Hermione's hand as they walked to Fleur's door. Fleur held up a Beaxbatons seal to the door, prompting it to open, and she led Hermione inside.

Hermione hadn't been inside Fleur's room during the day. It had an airier, freer feel about it with the curtains open and the dim winter light illuminating it. The fireplace was blazing, to Hermione's total lack of surprise, keeping the room at a cosy temperature.

Fleur released Hermione's hand, moving to drop her satchel at her desk and immediately remove her heels.

"Do you want to see my ball dress?" Fleur asked, picking her heels up and walking towards the wardrobe.

"Isn't that bad luck?" Hermione asked, placing her own satchel near the door to Fleur's room. It was hot in the room and Hermione took off her thick woollen school robe, placing it on top of her satchel.

Fleur laughed, a light, melodic laugh. It made Hermione's heart warm to hear Fleur sound carefree for once.

"That's wedding dresses, silly," Fleur replied, opening the wardrobe door, "I don't think we're quite at that point yet, do you?"

Hermione chuckled, though she blushed at the thought of remaining with Fleur long-term, past graduation, getting their own place together…

She wondered what would happen with them at the end of the school year.

"Fleur… What do you—"

Hermione's words cut off abruptly as Fleur held a dark blue dress in front of herself. It seemed to be made of expensive material, positively pooling in Fleur's hands. It complimented Fleur's colouring well, bringing out the blue of her eyes.

"Do you like?" Fleur asked, a slight uncertainty in her eyes.

Hermione let out a long sigh.

"It really suits you, Fleur," Hermione replied honestly, "You're going to be the most beautiful person there."

Fleur beamed proudly, before stuffing the dress back in her wardrobe.

"I certainly hope so," Fleur said, inclining her head and flipping her hair over one shoulder, "It cost me enough that it better make me look like the most beautiful one in the hemisphere."

Hermione laughed, before crossing the room and taking Fleur in her arms. It was freeing, being able to interact with Fleur without worrying about hurting Julie or pushing Harry further away. Fleur seemed to think so too, with the way she relaxed into Hermione's arms.

Without her heels on, Fleur was very slightly shorter than Hermione, making the brunette feel oddly protective of the blonde. Fleur was a formidable woman, intimidating as hell, but as Hermione held her in her arms, Fleur felt so delicate it was as if she might break.

"How are you feeling about the Second Task in the new year?" Hermione murmured. Fleur let out a small disgruntled huff.

"Just as I was beginning to relax," Fleur joked. She pulled herself out of Hermione's arms, before melodramatically throwing herself backwards to lie on her bed.

"Sorry," Hermione said sheepishly. The hormonal part of her inwardly kicked herself for changing the subject to a sombre one right as she finally had Fleur in her arms in a private place.

"I am kidding," Fleur said with a sigh, putting her arms behind her head, "I have talked to Viktor about it. Unless it is another cold, underwater challenge, I am feeling quite confident."

"And Viktor?" Hermione asked, coming to lie on her back beside Fleur on the bed.

"Viktor does not scare easily," Fleur replied easily, "Even when he could barely swim he was still going to go down in the lake. I think the only thing that boy fears are cupboards."

Hermione shot Fleur a quizzical look as the blonde giggled.

"Viktor has claustrophobia, he hates enclosed spaces," Fleur explained, "He would much rather be up in the open space of the air on his broom."

"Ah, gotcha," Hermione replied, before pausing, "What do you fear?"

Fleur turned her head to look at Hermione, her blue eyes swirling with unspoken thoughts. Hermione wondered for a moment if she had crossed a line, an apology already on the tip of her tongue. But then Fleur sighed and returned her gaze to the ceiling.

"People not being who I think they are," Fleur said quietly.

"Does that have something to do with your protectiveness of Gabrielle?" Hermione tentatively pushed. She felt Fleur's slender fingers seek her hand out on the cover of the bed, grasping her hand tightly.

"When I was a couple of years older than Gabrielle, I was fooled the first time," Fleur said in a constricted voice, "The man was my teacher. He was very charismatic and I thought we were friends. But… I was stupid and naive."

"You were nine," Hermione interjected. Fleur shook her head, glaring at the ceiling.

"The second time, I should have been prepared," Fleur continued, "My neighbour had taught me how to ride a broom, how to tie my shoelaces… He had taught me many things that my mother had not been around enough to teach me. I trusted him. But… when the thrall came in, he changed."

"Fleur," Hermione's heart ached at the pain in Fleur's voice.

"I will never forget the look on my mother's face when I told her what had happened," Fleur continued, squeezing her eyes shut, "'Fleur, you should know better than to trust humans! They only want to use you. You have brought disgrace to our family name.'"

"You were just a kid!" Hermione exclaimed, angry at how Fleur's mother had responded.

"A part-Veela kid," Fleur replied bitterly, "Who should have known better. But I didn't have any Veela friends growing up. I only had my mother to teach me the ways of my heritage, and she was working so hard she was scarcely around. Gabrielle will have me."

"I'm so sorry those things happened to you," Hermione replied, rolling on to her side to look at Fleur properly, "And I'm sorry for the ways people have continued to treat you because of your thrall."

Fleur rolled onto her side to face Hermione and the brunette saw there were unshed tears in the blonde's eyes.

"The other girls think the thrall is such a gift!" Fleur said angrily, "But it is nothing but a curse of my heritage. I hate it."

"Fleur," Hermione reached out, pausing with her hand above Fleur's hair. She didn't want to cross a boundary after Fleur had just shared something so raw and difficult with her. Fleur took her hand, guiding it to her hair, "Fleur, I don't hate your thrall. You know why? It is just one of the many complicated bits that make up who you are. The problem there is those people who hurt you, not your thrall."

Fleur moved forward, pulling Hermione into a tight hug. She buried her face in brunette curls.

"I've never told anyone about any of that," Fleur confessed into Hermione's hair, "Not even Julie."

They held each other tightly on Fleur's bed, Fleur being comforted by the tight hold of the young Gryffindor, Hermione being comforted by Fleur trusting her so much. Neither were sure how much time had passed before they spoke again, the drab wintery light no help in guessing the time of evening.

"Have you decided what you are wearing to the ball?" Fleur asked finally, finally shuffling to look Hermione in the face again.

"It's bad luck for you to know," Hermione answered coyly, grinning at Fleur. She was relieved that the mood had shifted back to being light hearted.

Fleur swatted her shoulder playfully.

"It isn't a wedding!" Fleur protested, throwing Hermione's previous words back at her.

Hermione gently pushed Fleur off her, before sliding off the bed and straightening her uniform with mock precision.

"Well, I haven't ordered it yet, so you'll just have to be patient and wait to find out," Hermione replied.

"I am Veela! I am not patient!" Fleur protested, leaping off her bed with the grace and athleticism of a cat.

Hermione chuckled, turning away from Fleur. But the blonde grabbed at her sides, forcing her to turn and look at her.

"I'm not telling you," Hermione giggled, "You'll just have to learn some patience."

"Never!" Fleur declared, looking defiantly up at the Gryffindor, "You will tell me what you are wearing so I can accessorise accordingly!"

Hermione laughed at the impish glint in the blonde's eyes.

"Or what?" she countered.

"Or this," Fleur replied, suddenly pulling Hermione close to her and attaching her lips to Hermione's neck.

"Ohhh, gods!" Hermione gasped, totally thrown off by the assault, "Fleur… This is hardly a punishment."

Fleur huffed lightly, before grazing her teeth against Hermione's neck and nipping, causing the brunette to jolt in her arms.

"W-wait! No more hickeys!" Hermione yelped.

"Then tell me what you are wearing to the ball, mon amie," Fleur teased, kissing the spot better.

"You're being such a brat," Hermione replied, before a groan escaped her mouth at Fleur kissing up the column of her neck before nipping at it again.

"I'm allowed to be a brat to my girlfriend," Fleur chuckled into Hermione's neck.

"G-girlfriend?!" Hermione stuttered, the haze of her hormone-addled brain clearing at the word.

Fleur drew back to look Hermione in the eyes, a self-satisfied smile on her face.

"Well, yes," Fleur replied, "If you'll have me."

Hermione burst into a goofy grin.

"Of course!"