A/N: Sorry for the delay, folks. The flurry of writing for fleurmione week burned me out so I'll be slowing down the update schedule on this to make sure I give it the attention it deserves.

Chapter 6

Fleur glanced at her watch. Fifteen more minutes and then she would go up to Hermione's room. Up until then she hadn't been nervous but this time of reverie, replaying the past in her mind, it made her worry that Hermione would not be as receptive to her presence as she'd hoped. And Fleur would deserve every insult the brunette had to give. Taking another sip of her club soda, she wondered yet again if things would've played out differently if she had gone to the wedding.

She remembered how, even though Ginny had disapproved of how she was handling Hermione, the redhead had still kept her updated about what was happening with their friend. Fleur hated hurting her but she had done it for both their sakes. In time, she had told herself, her feelings would dull and she would make it up to the girl.

But her feelings for the young witch didn't go away nor did they diminish. In fact, they had seemed to get stronger every day. She had yearned and ached for her and often daydreamed of apparating to wherever Hermione was to tell her how she felt. Imagined scenes of tender kisses and sighs cluttered her mind. Fighting with Bill became more frequent as her unhappiness and loneliness grew. He even asked her if she wanted to leave him. Ignoring the 'yes' that bubbled up in her throat, Fleur had convinced him she didn't, arguing their marriage was a commitment that she would not turn her back on.

Throughout all of this, Fleur still thought she would be able to go to Hermione's wedding. Ginny and Harry had been selected as the maid of honor and best man, respectively, and there were no other bridesmaids or groomsmen which meant the only thing she had to do was attend and keep her distance. But as the day had approached, she panicked. There was no way Fleur could sit there and watch Hermione bind herself to someone who didn't deserve or understand her. Not with a smile on her face. Not without standing up in protest, or worse, expressing the feelings that she had been trying for months to smother. Even if she could somehow let the ceremony finish, she knew she would not have been able to keep her thrall and emotions in check during the reception when all she would want would be to take Hermione in her arms and be the only one she danced with. Fleur had never danced with her before and she often daydreamed about a Yule Ball where she'd noticed the younger witch and asked her to dance, imagining where that might have led them. It was a silly fantasy that tore her heart into shreds each time she came back to reality.

No. Hermione loved Ron and she had to respect that and stay away. Manipulating her boss into assigning her to an emergency recovery project in Romania had been easy. Fleur had apologized to an angry Bill and left him to explain to his family and Hermione why she couldn't be there.

It had been her worst job to date. The entire trip was spent moping. She overlooked key runes protecting the vault she was meant to help open and a portion of its contents was damaged as a result. Fortunately, no one was hurt and the job ended early. The actual day of the wedding had been spent crying in her hotel room accompanied by two bottles of wine.

In the weeks after she got back home, her heart sank to find that Hermione stopped writing altogether but she didn't blame the girl. Fleur herself had increased the distance by not going to the Burrow during times she knew Hermione would be there. There would be occasional run-ins at Harry's or glimpses in Diagon Alley but nothing significant. Eventually she had to bend on her Burrow rule after so many months of not going but the damage she'd inflicted was done. The friendship was broken.

Unfortunately, instead of successfully rekindling what she once had with her husband, she spiraled further into depression. As a result, she went home every few weeks for short visits to France to spend time with a Veela healer, not just for her emotional state but to find a way to be satisfied in her marriage. Bill had gone with her at first but he grew frustrated with her increasingly distant behavior and stopped accompanying her, which was ironic considering her purpose for going. It took Fleur several more months to be comfortable enough with the healer to confide in her about her attraction to Hermione. The healer had not been surprised; she told Fleur she knew there had been something competing with her resolve to save her marriage. The woman held less traditional views on marriage and divorce than she did and she pointed out that from her first visit, Fleur only ever spoke about Bill in terms of preserving the marriage, of finding satisfaction in it. It was never about finding love again with him or being happy with him. And the woman questioned whether forcing herself to stay with someone she didn't love did more harm than good.

Her mother was not surprised when she finally told her parents what she was feeling. She didn't mention Hermione to them but she did confess to not loving Bill and not being happy. Even with their support, Fleur still didn't know what the right choice was. It took more conversations with the Veela healer as well as a surprisingly supportive owl from Ginny Weasley for Fleur to reconcile herself to the idea of ending the marriage as the more honorable option, as a way of letting Bill find the happiness he deserved.

It was just before Christmas when Fleur had told Bill she wanted a divorce and the decision did not surprise him. They had cried in each other's arms, both sorry for the choices they made that led to that point. It was generous of Bill to think he had a hand in their ending. Fleur knew the guilt belonged solely with her. She was the one who had failed. She was the one that had committed to him despite having misgivings, foolishly thinking they would find more in common than just their work and their fight against Voldemort. And she was the one who allowed affection for a friend to grow into more. Her time with the healer taught her not to torture herself over those choices, regardless of current circumstances. Feeling regret was natural but she had to forgive herself in order to move on from it. It was advice which Fleur had struggled with at the time. Divorce had been the right decision for them both but she still hated having hurt Bill, and her guilt back then ate at her.

Bill had asked if there was someone else. It was a reasonable question and Fleur didn't want to lie so she said yes, quickly adding that nothing had happened and that it was unrequited. She did not tell him who it was but looking back, Fleur suspected he knew all along.

She thought of the last time she'd seen Hermione. How beautiful she looked that New Year's Eve. Fleur wished she'd had the courage to tell the young witch the truth but she hadn't been thinking clearly that night.

While he agreed to the divorce, Bill convinced her that they should hold off telling the rest of his family until after the holidays. Fleur was not happy about lying but she understood Bill's desire to not upset his parents during happy family gatherings so she reluctantly agreed. Her refusal to go to the Weasley dinner on Christmas day led to a fierce argument but she compromised by agreeing to attend the New Year's Eve party. Fleur figured it would be easier to get through a party than a sit-down holiday dinner with the Weasleys and Hermione.

The night of the party she'd been angry about having to be there under the guise of being Bill's wife, and the anticipation of soon being free of him left her feeling reckless and unfettered. After consuming an inordinate amount of alcohol, her eyes caught Hermione looking at her and instead of turning away and ignoring the brunette, Fleur found herself smiling. Her mind yelled at her not to, that the young witch was a married woman and that she needed to respect that, but her selfishness and heart overruled it. She would be moving back to France anyway, she might never see Hermione again, and she wanted to bask in the woman's friendship just once more.

What happened that night ended up appalling her. She hadn't meant to flirt so shamelessly. She hadn't meant to nearly kiss the girl. Feeling close to her, feeling like she had someone that matched her in every way, the temptation to try for more was so strong.

Fleur was at peace staring up at the stars, their light shining through space and time. The din of the party faded into the background. The only thing that mattered was this moment and the woman next to her. She could feel her eyes on her but the Veela didn't turn. She didn't want to break the spell. In this moment, she felt safe, she felt like anything was possible.

It was pure contentment.

And no sooner did she think those words than the shame returned. Shame at how she had treated Hermione, at the way she was using her now to forget her pain. Fleur wanted to come clean. She wanted to apologize for her selfishness.

When the clock struck midnight, it was clear they were not in the right location for that conversation so she pulled Hermione to the side of the house. Her heart raced and she tried to calm it by embracing Hermione, telling her that she missed her. Once she heard what she had to say, Fleur doubted the brunette would want to see her again and she wanted to feel her one last time before that happened.

Then Hermione whispered into her neck and Fleur felt a jolt of pleasure shoot down her spine. She slowly pulled back and looked into her friend's eyes. Hermione was looking at her lips and without thinking, her own gaze lowered, too. Fleur could feel it, could feel everything she wanted. Stunned, she yanked herself away from the other witch.

Fleur sighed at the memory of that realization.

All that time she thought it had just been a strong attraction, an infatuation she couldn't shake, something she'd latched onto in order to help her understand that she didn't really belong with Bill. But standing under the stars at midnight, gazing into those warm eyes and seeing something that looked like Hermione wanted the same thing, it filled her with an unbearable need. Fleur looked at those lips, yearning to taste her, to be tasted by her. And she had realized right then what her true feelings were. She would never be satisfied with just friendship because this was love. She loved her. These feelings weren't fleeting, they were still and solid and all-encompassing.

But Hermione was married and didn't feel the same way. The girl had just gotten caught up in a moment under the stars. Fleur would not do that to Hermione, her happiness more important than her own. Stealing a kiss would be a selfish act and would only risk the life the young witch was building with her husband. As if the universe knew she needed one more reminder, the sound of Ronald's voice broke the tension, and she ran.

Fleur had heard Hermione calling after her in the house as she made her way to the floo. It made her feel like such a coward and she stopped. She wanted to tell the truth, give some kind of explanation. At the very least, Fleur should allow a proper goodbye especially since she was leaving England, and so she waited for Hermione to catch up to her. Maybe Hermione really did feel something, and she tried to think of what words to say during those few seconds of waiting. When she didn't come, Fleur decided to look for her. She made her way back towards the front of the house, eyes seeking the brunette amongst the inebriated crowd. Then Fleur saw her. Tears sprang to her eyes at the sight of the woman she loved in another's arms. There it was. The cold, hard truth staring her in the face. Hermione wasn't hers and she had to let her go. She swallowed the lump in her throat, heartbroken, and went back to the floo and left. At Shell Cottage, Fleur grabbed the two bags she had packed, shrunk them down to fit in her pockets, and promptly took the floo to her parents' house.

Life carried on in France. Since Bill didn't contest the divorce, it was finalized quickly. Hermione wrote a few letters but Fleur didn't read them. It hurt too much; she burned them so she wouldn't be tempted to reply. When she felt ready, she moved out of her parents' house and found a flat in Paris, taking on some freelance work including some less reputable assignments which were necessary to pay the bills. Fleur was determined to pay her own way and live on her own terms, leaving her life in England behind except for the occasional letter exchange with a hard-headed Ginny.

The Frenchwoman wouldn't say she was happy with how things had turned out but she did find satisfaction in her work and in the knowledge that Hermione was happy with her husband.

Time moved slowly until one day Fleur was blindsided by Ginny's owl informing her of Hermione's intent to divorce Ron. Fleur found herself torn between being elated and crestfallen at the news. Ginny didn't give a reason and she burned with curiosity. She recalled receiving a letter from Hermione a few months before that but she hadn't read it. Unlike the previous letters that were sent after the New Year's Eve party, she'd kept this last one as a memento. Opening it, she read a pleading note to meet and to preserve their friendship. There was also a hint at something she was afraid of but that it meant her happiness to do it. Gears started turning in her head. Hermione was getting a divorce, she was going to be free, and she had initiated this separation on her own. It didn't take long for the blonde to feel like this was finally her chance to reconnect.

Fleur made arrangements to move to London. Her work could be done anywhere and she knew she could get consulting work from Gringotts, too. She didn't have to clear anything with the government or the Ministry of Magic as she still had permanent residency papers.

She had found a flat in a muggle area near Diagon Alley. At first she was worried she would run into people she knew and was a bit surprised that it didn't happen, not that she announced her return or anything conspicuous like that. Bill probably knew through work despite his living and working in Egypt but none of their mutual acquaintances and friends reached out to her.

That had been four months ago, much of which was spent being too scared to contact Hermione to let her know she was back.

Wallowing in self-doubt did not help her confidence and she was a wreck by the time she received a phone call from Ginny two weeks ago asking to meet. They'd exchanged mobile numbers some months back; apparently Hermione had shown her how to use a cell phone and Ginny had slowly adopted its use, still preferring the use of owls. But given the urgency, Ginny broke down and used the mobile device. Their subsequent meeting was an eye-opener.

"'Ermione wants to 'ire an escort?" Fleur stumbled through the words, still not believing what Ginny had said.

"You heard me."

"And you want me to pretend to be one?" Fleur asked nervously.

"No, I didn't say that. You show up and then you two finally have it out."

"I don't understand," Fleur murmured, trying to avoid Ginny's eyes.

"Don't play dumb, Fleur. You like her, right? You moved back here after the divorce, didn't you? This is your chance to catch her off guard and lay your cards on the table."

"Why do you think I would be interested in… such a relationship with 'Ermione?" Fleur cautiously asked, a tiny bit hopeful, wondering if Hermione had said something to her. And how did Ginny know she had moved back to London?

Ginny snorted and cocked an eyebrow. "Please. You and I have been friends for years now and I know pining and eye-fucking when I see it. I knew what was up when Bill told me you were back. Also, can I say 'I told you so' yet?"

Fleur blushed and turned away.

"And what if she… doesn't…?"

"Fleur Delacour, you were paying attention to her list of preferences, right?"

Fleur's mind was too scattered to reply as she tried to absorb what Ginny had shared with her. Hermione wanted to have sex with an escort as a way to learn how to be with a woman. An escort who very much matched the blonde's description. Ginny was oddly tight-lipped about the reason why and she respected the girl for keeping her friend's secrets but Fleur could read between the lines. Hermione liked women. Hermione wanted a woman that sounded a lot like her. Was this why she divorced Ron? Did Hermione have feelings for her, too?

"Shouldn't I just call 'er then?" asked Fleur.

"Where's the fun in that?" Ginny replied with a deadpan expression. "She's going to kill me either way for talking to you, might as well have fun with it. Also, considering how you pretty much destroyed the friendship, I have a feeling you won't have any luck with a direct approach. Showing up at her hotel will force her to talk with you."

One more glance at her watch told her it was time. She grabbed her handbag and walked through the lobby towards the elevators. Fleur was glad that she wore the pants suit. She blended in easily with the other hotel guests and it was a neutral look, not something she would ordinarily wear for a night with a lover, or potential lover as the case may be.

Worry and nervousness had her gnawing on her lip as the elevator took her up to Hermione's floor and as she stepped out into the hallway. But she was strangely calm as she reached to knock on Hermione's door. This was it. This would be when she would tell Hermione of her love and beg for forgiveness for how she had treated her.

Fleur knocked again and she heard Hermione on the other side begin to open the door. Her heart raced.

When she saw the younger witch, she was stunned. So beautiful. Her heart leapt, ecstatic to see her again. Fleur enjoyed the surprised look on her face and waited for a response.

But when it came, she wished she'd never come at all.

Fleur had the urge to flee but managed to compose herself enough to walk into the suite, Hermione's words echoing in her ears. They were cold. And the underlying rage beneath them filled her with nausea. She didn't know why she stayed silent and watched as Hermione paced, even staying put after the brunette snapped at her, but she took the time to formulate a plan. Hermione obviously thought she was a real escort. She could either carry on the charade a little longer or reveal herself.

The younger witch looked defeated as she sat down on the couch. Her voice when she asked for more time sounded so lost and Fleur felt sick with guilt. Guilt for what she'd done, for how she'd treated her, and for showing up like this tonight. If the same thing had happened to her, she would be furious and embarrassed, too. Why did I listen to Ginny?

She could make it up to her by going along with what Hermione thought. Once the idea entered her mind, Fleur held onto it, rationalizing that she would actually be helping Hermione. The brunette would get what she wanted and Fleur would have one night to cherish her beloved before leaving and never bothering Hermione again. In order to be able to do this, however, Fleur would have to toss out her plan to apologize and explain. Burying the past would let her keep her distance.

The initial exchange of words where she did nothing to dispel Hermione's notion of her being an escort went well. Hermione snapping at her again only reinforced her decision to keep playing this role. And when she made the bookworm blush, it made Fleur feel powerful and free. She liked being able to express interest like this, to pursue without obstacles like marriages in the way. The Veela tried not to let the younger witch's cutting words of not trusting her get to her. Instead Fleur tried to soothe her misgivings and make her feel confident that she could provide the night that the younger witch had been expecting.

Or maybe instead of sleeping together, they could just talk and Fleur could give her advice on approaching and being with a woman. She suggested this option and a part of her hoped Hermione would take it and they could talk and laugh like they used to. In a bout of honesty, she also acknowledged the potential for awkwardness. The selfish part of her, though, couldn't stop thinking about what it would be like to touch Hermione intimately, to have what she'd been longing for all these years. Fleur may have looked outwardly calm but inside she was desperate to not be kicked out of the room; she just wanted more time with the younger witch.

Then that kiss happened.

Up until that moment, Fleur had maintained at least a semblance of aloofness but the second her lips touched Hermione's skin, the attempt fell by the wayside. And when Hermione turned into her mouth, her control slipped away even more. To finally touch her, to taste her. Desire poured out of her and she was sure Hermione could tell. How could she not?

Hands gripped her lapels and pulled Fleur closer, her own hands holding onto Hermione's back and feeling hot skin and a bra beneath the thin silk blouse. Her scent, her sounds, the way Hermione's body moved against hers, like a dance they were always meant to share. She felt Hermione opening, giving, not holding anything back, and Fleur accepted it all and demanded more. Her heart thundered in her chest with hope. Hope that Hermione's earlier words and anger were just a pretense, that they were not telling her the whole story. Her thrall crashed around them, driven hotter by Hermione's magic which she felt as if it were seeping out of her, calling to her as if the brunette had a thrall of her own. It was wonderful, intoxicating; she had never felt anything like it before. The Veela felt rather than saw the colors their joining was creating. Oranges and then blues and violets, pulling at her, drawing her thrall ever closer, enticing her to give even more of herself and reveal her heart. It all drove Fleur wild with need and she could hold back her love no longer. She wanted her, here, now at this very moment, and just as Fleur had been about to abandon the last of her control over her thrall and press in harder to lay her back against the couch, her hand drifting upward to grip brown locks, Hermione broke the kiss.

She fought with the impulse to pull her back, especially when she noticed the faint glow of magic on the brunette's skin, the sight of which made her heart stutter. Fleur remembered an embarrassed Hermione and a wine-fueled conversation they once had, and knew what that magical aura meant. Was this stimulation-induced aura related to Hermione's ability to feel her thrall in the way she did? Was how her thrall responded to it what the passage on Veela thrall was referring to when it said Veela tended to find comfort and be more open with such a person? Fleur's thrall had essentially melded with Hermione's magic during their kiss, and could touch it even now, the heat smoldering while Hermione sat there trying to catch her breath. Through her thrall, Fleur could practically taste Hermione's arousal and it fed her own, causing a warm pulse between her thighs. If that was what a kiss with the brunette could make her feel, what would making love be like? This was new and exciting and she hoped Hermione would speak about what they just shared so she could learn more. But she didn't. Instead the young witch closed herself off, reminding her of what her role was tonight; an escort, not a woman who had just kissed her as if her life depended upon it.

Fleur tried to tamp down her heart and accept that the only thing the bookworm wanted from her was her body. The rational and healthy thing to do would be to leave, and she seriously considered it. It would be torture to sleep with the woman she loved knowing her love wasn't returned. But her selfishness was strong and her earlier rationalization won out. Besides, was letting Hermione believe she was an escort really such a harmful lie if the brunette was getting exactly what she wanted out of it? Agreeing to keep emotions out of it was another lie, as if what they just experienced hadn't been heightened at all by their emotional states, but maybe what the other woman really meant was not discuss them and keep them hidden.

Keeping her emotions hidden wasn't so simple considering her thrall but it was also difficult when faced with Hermione's current body language as she collected herself. Discomfort, an effort to hide how flustered she was. When Hermione asked how they were to proceed, Fleur couldn't stop a small laugh at the words. She heard what wasn't said, the more beneath the surface. The Veela was very familiar with physical desire, having seen it in the expressions of countless people over the years. What she was seeing in the younger witch in this moment was different. Caution mixed with want. Nervousness mixed with determination. An emotion in the eyes that was reminiscent of the way she looked that night under the stars. While it was frustrating to see the younger witch put on an air of indifference and pretend she hadn't felt how much the blonde wanted her, it amused her to know that she wasn't the only one struggling with emotions.

The Veela became determined to get Hermione to stop trying to control her desires, to stop being so inhibited. If Hermione was set on going through with this, then Fleur wanted all of her passion, all of her need. Flustering her was easy; getting her to open up after everything she'd put her through, that would be the hard part. They needed to start slow and an idea began to form. What if she gave Hermione a choice? Even if Fleur stacked the deck a bit with the options, it would make the other witch feel like she had more control, which was something she knew Hermione needed to feel comfortable. Something that would keep Hermione close and at the same time get her to lower her guard.

Fleur knew just the thing.

A/N: Wanted to get a bit more of Fleur's perspective before jumping back to Hermione's in the next chapter.

Thanks for reading and hope you're all doing okay out there.

:

Retrograderabbit: hoped you liked seeing Fleur's pov in this one too

Avatar1989: hoped this chapter didn't disappoint

zerodawn22: Same!

xxDark Angel Babyxx: I worked on it as quickly as I could

kpop1392as: Thanks!

ceMR: Thanks! Yes, it is a frustrating tale but we're getting there slowly but surely

jaz-san: Glad you liked it!