Chapter 4

Hermione brought her hands to her face, then ran them over her head and through her hair, recalling the aftermath of that party.

Letters to Fleur had gone unanswered. She did not confess her feelings in them but they did hint at her marriage troubles and she wanted Fleur to meet with her. Hermione wanted to say the words in person, she wanted to see the look in Fleur's eyes when she revealed her heart. An unannounced visit to Shell Cottage was met by an unkempt Bill at the door explaining how Fleur was visiting family. A month after the party, she'd heard Fleur had quit her job at Gringotts and moved back to France; she and Bill had separated and would soon divorce. Hermione felt empty at the loss and at how Fleur hadn't said goodbye. It was like what happened after her wedding all over again. Only instead of having a new marriage to distract her, there was this path of self-discovery which she couldn't ignore. She needed to explore it. That one fleeting moment with Fleur at the party, where everything seemed possible, it couldn't be undone. Her heart had been cracked open to reveal its true self, and no amount of balm or self-delusion could cover it back up again.

But what had all seemed so clear on that New Year's Eve changed in the face of Fleur's flight from her. The prospect of having to deal with the wreckage of this life-change all by herself was daunting, and Hermione felt it prudent to take her time to be sure. She was married, after all, and her guilt and self-doubt wouldn't let her just abandon her it no matter what her heart wanted. Matching her inner conflict, her subsequent actions over the next several months were at cross purposes. She attended those planned marriage counseling sessions to save her marriage because she'd committed to doing so with Ron and because Hermione Granger wasn't supposed to fail at anything. At the same time, she also worked to figure out whether it was just Fleur she was attracted to or whether it was to women in general. Was she even attracted to men? Leave it to her to over-think everything while growing up, to never assume something was true without facts to back it up, only to have made that very mistake when it came to her sexuality and she never questioned it until now.

She systematically analyzed every moment in her life that could be construed as demonstrating attraction for another person, trying to give more than the benefit of the doubt to those memories of Ron but also allowing a spotlight to shine on what she had previously thought were insignificant things. With fresh eyes, she recalled her nervous and flustered behavior around attractive girls at Hogwarts. Those lingering glances, the fog in her brain, it had been more than social awkwardness. And as her post-war friendship with Fleur developed, every heartbeat skip she'd had when the Frenchwoman smiled at her held new meaning. After weighing the evidence of those memories, as well as taking note of her responses during some lunches spent observing people of various presented genders in the Atrium of the Ministry and on the streets around the city, she concluded without a shadow of a doubt that she liked women. Only women.

Around this time, Ron gave up on the marriage counseling, having grown impatient with Hermione's unwillingness to be forthcoming. Incompatibility as romantic partners did not erase the fact that they had started out as friends and he knew her well enough to know that she was holding back. Hermione wanted to argue that marriage required constant effort and honesty from both parties but kept silent because she recognized the hypocrisy in her own actions, in her lack of honesty in those counseling sessions where she'd had every opportunity to tell him what she was feeling and why their marriage was failing.

It took more months for her to screw up the courage to confess this to Ron, to admit defeat and ask for a divorce. She knew it would turn his world upside down and she couldn't blame him for the anger and hurt it would cause him. Hermione shouldn't have married him in the first place. She may not have known she was a lesbian back then but a part of her did know that she didn't love him in the way that he loved her. That alone should have stopped her.

As she debated, she sent one more letter to Fleur. Hermione was too scared to outright say what she felt for her in writing but she begged to see her, she begged Fleur not to end their friendship. As with the other letters, there was no reply. That was when Hermione realized she had to stop hoping Fleur would be there for her. The New Year's Eve party had been an anomaly, not the start of something between them like she'd hoped. Hermione thought she saw many things in Fleur's eyes that night as she stepped back out of her arms, need, shame, passion, but the word that had never entered her mind before was 'disgust'. Maybe Fleur had been disgusted by that intimate moment and that's why she ran.

Hermione started to see their friendship through a different lens. Were they as close as she had thought? She had found out about Fleur's problems with Bill from Ginny. It angered her that Fleur had shared that with the redhead and not with her. What else had Fleur shared? Had Hermione ever really known her?

The moment she finally decided to separate from Ron was the same moment she forced herself to give up on Fleur Delacour. Hermione never told anyone about her and if anyone had suspicions, they kept those thoughts to themselves. She still thought about the Veela. For months, it had been every day and then nearly every day. But it got better. Less crippling. Hermione had her work and she was managing to keep her current, albeit very small, social circle intact despite the friction with Ron and his family. She'd come out as a lesbian to close friends and family and was making progress towards being comfortable with being out publicly. Tonight was meant to be another step in that direction.

And now here Fleur was, bringing all of her turmoil back. Why? Why now?

Hermione realized she'd been silent for too long and felt her anger be replaced by trepidation. She smoothed out her skirt as she thought of what to say.

"'Ermione, I think it would be best if we didn't discuss the past," said Fleur evenly.

Feeling her mouth fall open, Hermione didn't know how to respond. How could Fleur think she could get away with not talking about it? Pretend like the hurt never happened? Just one more good night?

A cold clarity came over Hermione as she realized Fleur didn't mean for this little reunion to last.

"Just like that? It would be that easy for you?"

Fleur smirked and said, "It would interfere with what you want to accomplish tonight, non?"

At those words, Hermione's heart hammered in her chest. Did Fleur really come here for…? It was like her brain short-circuited and she couldn't help the images that flashed through her mind. The things she'd wanted to try, positions, skin, taste… and to do all of that with Fleur?

Hermione swallowed hard and stood up and went back to furiously pacing, wringing her hands together. Fleur was distracting her with this, putting focus on Hermione's intent tonight instead of behaving like a true friend and giving the answers she deserved. She didn't even recognize what was coming out of her mouth now. Curses, mutterings, arguments. It went on until she heard Fleur's tinkling laughter.

"You're so adorable, chérie. I've missed you."

Fleur said it breathlessly, unguarded. And it caught Hermione off guard as well.

She clenched her jaw.

"Don't. If I can't discuss the past with you then you don't get to use your familiarity with me like that," she bit out.

The blonde visibly recoiled and Hermione felt a pang of regret for her harsh words. She went back to sit down on the couch. This wasn't how she imagined seeing the Frenchwoman again and when she did, she pictured herself as poised and reserved, as someone who accepted that Fleur wasn't the friend she thought she'd been, and used a meeting to provide a sense of closure for the both of them. Unfortunately, the reality didn't match that fantasy. Hermione scowled. Fleur may have the answers she needed but she wasn't going to beg for them. Fine, she thought. It doesn't matter, she never felt what I did anyway.

Taking a breath, she moved on to the next thing. The reason for tonight. Suppressing her renewed embarrassment, Hermione resolved to be polite. She'd gotten herself into this mess and she would calmly get herself out of it. Even though the woman didn't want to talk about their past, Hermione could still be open and frank about this. And after that, maybe Hermione could finally cut the last tie to Fleur that anchored to her heart.

"Listen, Fleur, forget what I said at the door. I don't think this would be a good idea," Hermione managed to say, gesturing between the two of them. "I wanted tonight to be impersonal and professional. A stranger would be better for that."

"Ah, but I satisfy all those lovely traits you wanted. And don't you think someone who knows you would be better equipped to satisfy you?"

The teasing tone and the flirty reference to her 'satisfaction' threw her off balance again, and Hermione's face went hot as she turned away, unable to look at the laughter that shone clearly in Fleur's eyes.

"It's not just about that," muttered Hermione under her breath, thinking again of tonight's plan to learn how to touch a woman properly. Trying to pleasure a woman like Fleur and not knowing what to do was intimidating; she blushed even harder at the thought.

"To that I would argue that it is easier to learn with someone you trust."

"And you think I still trust you?" she asked, turning back to the Veela, suddenly not caring if Fleur saw how red her face was.

She'd meant it to hurt her, for her words to be a scream at how much hurt she still felt over their past, and Fleur's eyes did briefly fall but then she blinked it away and ignored Hermione's question, saying, "I can also guarantee you will be 'ard-pressed to find another Veela to engage in such a way."

This was new and in spite of her flash of fury, Hermione leaned slightly towards Fleur, waiting to learn more.

Fleur smiled, knowing she had piqued Hermione's interest. "It is offensive to Veela to share themselves with those they find sexually unattractive; it makes us violently ill. If a Veela is employed as an escort, she does so rarely as she will want to carefully choose her clients."

"Is that what you do? Fleur, why? Do you need help? Do you need money?" Hermione cringed, knowing she was prying. But if Fleur needed help, she wouldn't forgive herself if she didn't try to give it to her. And a part of her still hoped that this was all a terrible joke that Ginny and Fleur had come up with.

At this, Fleur clucked her tongue and turned away. But even in profile, the blonde looked strangely cautious and contemplative.

"Do we really 'ave to debate the legitimacy of sex work and the various reasons why people choose it? You've done your due diligence, oui?"

Fleur turned back to Hermione. The caution appeared gone, like she had made up her mind, but she still didn't look completely comfortable.

Hermione's heart sank as she interpreted the woman's words to mean this wasn't a joke; Fleur was here for a job. She slowly nodded her reply. Of course, Hermione had done her research. Research was what had led her to this being a viable option for her situation in the first place.

"In which case, I can assure you I am 'ere of my own free will. You do not need to worry."

She didn't know what to say in reply so she nodded again and remained silent. She looked at her hands and listened to the soft, romantic music on the stereo.

Gradually, she began to feel Fleur's thrall reach out to her again. Hermione sighed and slightly shook her head, still unsure. The thrall's advance halted but Fleur didn't rein it all the way back in. There was a comfort in feeling it again. She noted how her sense of it seemed stronger, like Fleur was physically touching her even though they were on opposite ends of the couch. Hermione relaxed in the familiarity, and without the anger weighing her down, she could also feel a sense of relief to see Fleur again. In spite of everything, she really had missed her.

"You look lovely tonight, 'Ermione," Fleur said appreciatively and less on her guard, as if sensing the brunette's relaxed mood. "The room is nice. I see a decent, open bottle of Beaujolais chilling on the table over there. Food to eat. If you're not inclined to be intimate, I can still answer questions about being with a woman. I believe that was another of your stipulations."

"Fleur," whispered Hermione, feeling tempted. Would it really be so bad to have this first experience be with the woman she'd really been thinking about when she told Ginny her preferences for the escort? Could this be a way to finally get her out of her system?

"You don't think it would be too awkward given… you know… everything?" she asked quietly. It was a weak attempt to put a stop to it and she shouldn't have bothered. She knew she was giving in the moment she started her question.

Heat grew low in her belly and to distract herself, Hermione stood up and walked over to the table to pour two glasses of wine. She walked back to the couch and handed one to Fleur. The slight graze of her fingers against Hermione in the hand-off made her gasp.

"Maybe," Fleur admitted. It frustrated Hermione that Fleur didn't elaborate but she still appreciated an honest answer instead of more teasing.

She stared into those piercing blue eyes. Fleur raised her glass to her mouth and the action brought her attention to Fleur's lips. A knowing smirk grew on the Veela's face but this time Hermione didn't shy away. The blonde's eyes narrowed but she didn't look away either, lowering her glass and placing it on the coffee table. The air shifted and Hermione could feel the tension build, this time not anger but something velvety and dangerous. The thrall felt heady and it made Hermione lightheaded. It was stronger than it had been the night of the party.

Fleur gently took Hermione's untouched wine out of her hand and placed it next to hers on the coffee table. Hermione was still standing but then she felt one of her hands being pulled down, until she was sitting right next to her, their knees touching. The younger witch couldn't look away and she let herself be pulled further into those blue eyes.

"'Ave you ever kissed a woman?" Fleur asked in a low voice. "I know you 'aven't slept with one but 'ave you ever just kissed one?" She leaned closer to her and Hermione could feel her breath on her face.

"No," Hermione breathed out in a whisper and Fleur's lips slowly curled into a pleased smile.

"I'm going to kiss you, 'Ermione. Will that be all right?"

Hermione nodded helplessly, suddenly hungry for Fleur's lips, still not quite believing she would finally get to taste them after dreaming about it for so long.

Fleur leaned in and gently kissed the corner of Hermione's mouth. The blood rushed through her ears and she sucked in a breath but she didn't pull away. Instead, she turned her head slightly, feeling Fleur's mouth slide over, and then she felt lips on hers, chaste at first and then more passionate.

Hermione tried to keep her distance. She tried to control her emotions. This is just a transaction, it's not real, don't lose yourself, her mind insisted. But when Fleur's lips parted, Hermione's heart leapt right in.

She was in free fall as Fleur's arms wrapped around to hold her. Hermione's hands tightly gripped the lapels of the other woman's jacket, pulling her closer, trying to reach in and get her heart back but only feeling it fall further into Fleur. It felt so good, she wanted more.

Everything poured into the kiss. Her hurt, all the feelings she'd repressed during their friendship, her anger. Fleur swallowed it all and demanded more, licking into Hermione's mouth seeking everything she had to give. And in the demanding, Hermione could feel a similar unraveling in Fleur. How she trembled against her, how her little whimpers vibrated against her mouth. The heat of the thrall was sweltering, insistent. Fleur wanted this. Desperately.

What did this mean? If they slept together, how would she recover when Fleur disappeared on her again? The short answer was that she wouldn't and then she would feel as lost as she did when Fleur left her at that party. Perhaps more so.

Hermione broke the kiss when the ache became too much. She wanted it. She wanted Fleur. But she had to protect herself.

She let go of Fleur's jacket and scooted away from her on the couch. They were both breathing heavily, trying to catch their breaths. Risking a glance at Fleur, she noticed the woman staring at her, eyes wide.

Hermione glanced down at her hands and saw the faintest orange glow. Shit. It was just a kiss, Granger, get a hold of yourself.

She gave a little shrug which came off as more of a wave and thankfully, Fleur just nodded and didn't ask.

Finally composing herself enough to speak, Hermione said, "This is probably a terrible idea. What am I saying, of course it is. Fuck. Fucking Ginny." She huffed at her rambling and pressed on. "But I… what I mean to say is, we have to keep emotions out of it, Fleur. Agreed?"

Damn, she was in trouble. She was really going to do this. Hermione was terrified. And excited.

The Veela pursed her lips tightly, her blue eyes dark and troubled, and she wondered if Fleur was going to back out. Surprisingly, the thought sent a sharp pain through her chest. Had she misinterpreted Fleur's response during their kiss that badly? The threat of rejection hurt and she steeled herself for it. This is why I don't want emotions, she reminded herself.

Then the blonde slowly nodded, whispering, "D'accord."

The thrall went cold and she knew she'd upset the blonde but she tried not to think more on it. She didn't want to care; she didn't want to know what the woman was thinking. Hermione reached for her wine and took a long drink. Detached. Impersonal. You can do this.

"Right. So, how do we proceed?" asked Hermione, her voice light yet determined, trying to ignore the heavy tension that had set in after their kiss.

Fleur chuckled, somehow recovering her playful mood. Hermione would have guessed it was a false front but her eyes held mischief. Despite the effort by Hermione to put a wall between them, the Veela easily tore it down. Desire rose up in her again as well as a deep longing. It just felt so good to be around Fleur again, to have her attention, and to feel that her desire was returned.

And she knew that it was. The kiss itself was undeniable. But Fleur had also admitted it earlier when she said that a Veela was very careful in her choice of sexual partners. They coupled solely with those they were attracted to, which meant…

The thought that at least this part of it would be real made Hermione's skin burn even hotter.

Keeping emotions out of it was going to be a lost cause, she realized. Only heartbreak lay ahead of her. And yet she wouldn't turn back now. She didn't want to.

"Well, you could undress me or I could undress you or we can dance. Your choice," said Fleur in a flirtatious lilt.

The Frenchwoman sounded nonchalant, and that's probably what she wanted the bookworm to think, but Hermione was captivated by the flushed look on Fleur's face, the thrall crackling around her in eagerness.

Want and need filled Hermione but she managed to get her brain into gear in order to reply.

"D-d-dance. Let's do that. Definitely," Hermione stammered. They had all night, there was no reason to rush.

Wait, does Fleur mean dance dance or am I being clueless about a euphemism for sex?

Merlin, I'm going to die tonight, aren't I?

A/N: Might take more than a week until the next update. Just a heads up. Thanks so much for reading.

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Shadow994: So stubborn is right! lol

silence-holds-me: Thank you, I appreciate that

zerodawn22: Thanks, hope you like this latest one