A/N: Hi all, welcome to another chapter of slow burrrrn :) Message or comment if you have anything you want to see in future chapters and I might just include it.
Chapter 13.
Hermione leaned against the wall of the solitary cell, feeling despair wash over her as the Dementors swooped past outside. The coldness the Dementors caused as they sucked the happiness out of the area caused Hermione to shiver.
A disembodied laugh echoed through the gaps in the drafty cell.
"Golden Girl… We're finally in the same place again," the unmistakeable husky voice of Bellatrix weaved through the walls, sending a chill down Hermione's spine.
"Fantastic," Hermione shot back sarcastically. Truth be told, being in such close proximity to her former torturer was terrifying her, but she didn't want Bellatrix to know that.
"We keep just missing each other, Muddy," Bellatrix sang, before cackling wildly, "But now we're finally in the same place at the same time."
"Brilliant," Hermione intoned back in a deadpan voice. She didn't want to engage with the madwoman.
"Tell me… Do you still have the scars from that wonderful time we spent together during the war?"
Hermione gritted her teeth, her hand running over her scarred arm, trying not to flash back to that incident. She leaned her head back to stare at the ceiling, feeling the deep depression from the Dementors seep into her. It was pushing her to think of her torture at Bellatrix's hands. Flashbacks were beginning to edge into her mind.
'Don't think about it… Think about something nice,' Hermione willed herself, 'Think about puppies… Or Fleur… Or Fleur and puppies…'
"Pansy said she would be able to get you back in here," Bellatrix continued in her husky cruel voice, "She was confident that we could use connections on the outside to find a weakness. You really made it easy for us, Muddy."
'Ignore her, ignore her…' Hermione told herself, shutting her eyes tightly.
"Your half-animal lawyer landing in here too really was the icing on the cake," Bellatrix giggled, "How does it feel knowing you were the one that ruined her life? You two make quite the pair. Those with filthy blood always do have a way of seeking each other out."
"Shut up!" Hermione screamed suddenly, getting to her feet, "Shut up, shut up, shut UP!"
She was pounding on the stone of the cell wall wildly, screaming over Bellatrix's laughter. She pounded on the wall with her fists until she was exhausted, falling to the floor and drawing her knees up to her chin.
Hermione squinted at the light as the doors opened. Two guards came in and pulled her up. Hermione wasn't even sure how much time had passed. She had been lying in a foetal position on her side, aching with the depression from the Dementors. The cackling and needling of Bellatrix had done nothing to help, plunging Hermione deeper into guilt and dark memories.
"All right Granger, come on," one of the guards grunted, pushing her through the door with his wand.
Hermione just grunted in reply, not even wanting to reply.
"Au revoir, Muddy!" Bellatrix cackled, "See you when I'm back out of solitary!"
"Quiet, Lestrange," one of the guards chided.
They pushed Hermione back through the prison to her cell, shoving her in. Hermione lay back on her cot, looking aimlessly at the ceiling. She just didn't care about anything right now.
All that was running through her mind was a horrible loop of flashbacks and guilt. If it wasn't memories of her torture at Bellatrix's hands then it was guilt over ruining Fleur's life. It was all intermingling horribly in her head, causing her chest to ache with the hurt of it all.
The halls got noisy as meal times came and went, but Hermione ignored it all. She just lay on her cot, lost in her despair. She turned on her side to face the stone wall.
A day passed before Hermione heard someone come into her cell. If it was Pansy about to needle her some more, Hermione couldn't care less. Nothing could make her feel worse right now.
"Hermione?"
The gentle lilt of a French accent pierced through the fog of depression. Hermione grunted in response.
"Hermione, what happened?" Fleur asked, concerned, "Are you okay?"
Hermione couldn't respond, the ache in her chest was too heavy. She felt Fleur sit on the edge of her cot, her hand running down her shoulder.
"Pansy said Bellatrix was down in solitary," Fleur said quietly, "Did she do anything to you?"
"She didn't need to," Hermione replied hoarsely, "I've ruined everything all on my own."
"That isn't true," Fleur replied softly, "Here… I brought you something."
Fleur reached over and her soft hand pushed something into Hermione's hands. Hermione looked down despondently. A chunk of chocolate.
"Eat it," Fleur insisted, "It will make you feel better after the Dementors. I'm worried you aren't bouncing back."
Hermione slowly ate the chocolate, noticing that she was beginning to feel a bit better already. She sat up and turned to face Fleur, sitting cross legged on the cot.
"Where did you even get this in here?" Hermione asked, baffled.
Fleur was still looking remarkably preened and glamorous as she watched Hermione carefully. Hermione supposed it was the Veela blood preventing even Azkaban from dampening her beauty. Fleur flipped her hair and winked.
"I have my ways," Fleur smiled.
"I really didn't have you pegged for the type that would thrive in prison," Hermione replied, surprised. Fleur smirked.
"You're too protective of me, Hermione," Fleur replied with a small smile.
Hermione finished off the chocolate, still feeling down but no longer crippled by depression. The mere presence of Fleur seemed to be buoying her mood.
"Feeling better?" Fleur asked, cocking her head to one side.
"Yeah…" Hermione replied, "Thanks."
She wondered when she had gone from seeing Fleur as cold and haughty to seeing her as a warm and caring person.
"Great, because you really need to shower," Fleur said, wrinkling her nose.
"Ah, there's the Fleur I know," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes.
"Okay, well you do that while I get to work," Fleur responded, getting up and walking out of the cell.
"…Work?" Hermione echoed. She got up and followed Fleur. Fleur was in her own cell, sitting at a small desk that was surrounded by a mass of papers and books. Fleur raised an eyebrow.
"If I'm going to get myself out and reinstated so I can represent you again, I need to do some serious work!" Fleur responded, flipping to a fresh page in a book on her desk.
"You… What…?" Hermione was stunned. She was shocked Fleur had already bounced back into her steely resolve.
"Shower, Hermione," Fleur said, not looking up from her paperwork, "I wouldn't mind an outside opinion on some case law I dug up… And I'd prefer if you were a little less ripe when you helped me."
Hermione didn't know whether to growl or blush, instead opting to silently walk out in a confused daze.
She went about her shower routine, still pondering the situation. If she were honest, she had kind of expected Fleur to crumble in Azkaban. The filthy, dark conditions were far from what the preened blonde seemed accustomed to.
More than the physical surrounds, Fleur had just lost everything. Her career, her husband, her in-laws, her reputation… She had seemed relatively despondent before Hermione had gone to solitary.
It made Hermione respect Fleur even more. The fight within her was more than she ever could have expected. It was inspirational. It was hot. Hermione blushed hotly as the shower water shut off. She wrapped a towel around herself, heading back to her cell.
Across from her cell, Fleur was still intently working, poring through parchment. Hermione wondered who she even got to bring all her materials in. She supposed Fleur must have support out there despite her fall from grace.
Hermione stretched, drying herself off and putting on some underpants. She had been mortified when she first arrived in Azkaban conditions, but now on her second time she was desensitized to the lack of privacy.
She put on her sweatpants next, towel drying her hair as best as she could to avoid frizziness in her curls. Finally, she pulled on a wifebeater, not bothering with a bra.
She turned around, her stomach twisting at what she saw. Fleur was watching her intently, her quill suspended above now-forgotten parchment. It wasn't just that she was distracted, it was the way that she was looking at Hermione. It was enough to make Hermione's knees weak.
Hermione cleared her throat awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck. She walked over to Fleur's cell, feeling even more overwhelmed as the blonde began to look flustered.
"Wh-wha… Hermione…?" Fleur stuttered uncharacteristically, a light pink prettily adorning her cheeks.
Hermione tried to avoid grinning at how adorable it was, coming to stand beside the blonde. It was honestly mind-blowing that a someone like Fleur could want Hermione.
"You said you wanted to show me some of your work," Hermione replied, willing her voice to remain steady.
Damn this horrible, inappropriate crush, Hermione thought to herself, her jaw tensing. She almost wished her mind was still full of the depressing thoughts… It would be less frustrating than the imagery of pushing Fleur up against one of the stone walls and making the rumours about them true.
"Oh," Fleur replied, seeming to snap out of it, "Well… It is dinnertime now, perhaps we should do it later?"
"Sure," Hermione replied, realising that people were in fact beginning to bustle past on their way to the cafeteria.
Fleur stood up from her chair and Hermione was startled by how close they actually were. Fleur's face was a centimetre from her own. She could feel Fleur's breath and see just how big Fleur's pupils were.
Hermione felt her hands drawn to Fleur's hips, not even realising that she was holding the blonde until she registered that Fleur was trembling slightly.
"Oh… Sorry…" Hermione mumbled, releasing the blonde and stepping back.
Fleur exhaled shakily, running a hand through her hair and regaining composure.
"Well… Let's go then," Fleur replied, brushing past Hermione and heading out into the hallway. Hermione hurried behind her, remaining close lest any Death Eaters get any ideas.
Hermione and Fleur sat at a table together in the dark, depressing cafeteria.
Hermione prodded an unmashed mashed potato.
"You would think that they could at least change up the drab stone walls in here," Fleur grumbled, stabbing an unidentifiable piece of meat with her fork.
Hermione went to reply, but was interrupted by Millicent Bullstrode coming to join their table.
"What do you want?" Hermione snarled. The last thing she wanted to deal with was one of Pansy's lackeys.
"I'm not here for you," Millicent said dismissively, turning all of her attention to Fleur, "How did you find the chocolate, pretty flower?"
"Mm, it was délicieux, merci," Fleur replied, flashing a million-watt smile and flipping her hair.
"Good to hear," Millicent replied, her heavy-set features contorting into a smile. Hermione felt jealousy bubbling within her, watching Millicent fawn over Fleur. Overcoming that was a feeling of total confusion over what was going on.
"Sorry, got to go," Millicent grunted, "But let me know if you need anything else."
Millicent got up and lumbered off, her sturdy and strong frame intimidating in the dimness of the cafeteria.
"What was that?!" Hermione exclaimed, entirely baffled.
Fleur turned back to Hermione, smiling conspiratorially as she lowered her voice.
"I told you I had informants in here, no?" Fleur murmured. Hermione looked at Fleur as if she had lost her mind.
"Informants, yes, but people fawning over you and bringing you chocolate?!" Hermione hissed. Fleur arched an eyebrow.
"The chocolate helped you, did it not?" Fleur responded primly, "Sometimes you need connections to thrive."
"Connections?!" Hermione hissed back, "She obviously thinks you're going to bloody shag her! You haven't already, have you?!"
Hermione pushed her food tray away at the sudden thought of her former school bully getting her repulsive hands on Fleur's perfect body.
"Of course not," Fleur replied, nibbling a little at her food, "But if she does things for me because she thinks it's a possibility, what of it?"
"Wh—what?!" Hermione was thrown at how brazen Fleur was about using Millicent, "That's so manipulative!"
Fleur narrowed her eyes, leaning forward across the table.
"And you don't think what they have done to you is manipulative?" Fleur replied in a low voice, "These are desperate times and I am doing what I can to look out for us."
Hermione frowned, she wasn't happy. But she was starving after being cooped up in her room in her deep depression. She dragged her tray back towards herself and began eating the food with vigour.
"Are you upset because it is manipulative or are you upset because you're jealous?" Fleur asked in a quiet voice.
Hermione looked up, feeling the electricity between them again.
"Maybe a bit of both," Hermione replied in a low voice.
Hermione wondered if she imagined the slight smile on Fleur's face as the blonde resumed eating her own meal.
"I kind of miss sharing a bed with you, is that bad?" Fleur asked quietly. Hermione smirked coyly.
"Well… You technically aren't my lawyer anymore," Hermione flirted boldly. She loved the sudden blush that bloomed in Fleur's face and the spark in the blonde's eyes. The chemistry between them was amping up even more.
"Hermione," Fleur chided, scandalised, before smiling, "You just have such a way of holding me at night… It's… It makes me feel safer than I ever have before."
Hermione smiled back, leaning forward on the table. Butterflies were erupting in her stomach like she was an awkward teen at Hogwarts again. One of her hands was on the table, close to Fleur's. They both looked at their hands before their eyes met again.
Fleur sighed.
"It still wouldn't be right," Fleur said in a strained voice, pulling her hand away. The blonde looked conflicted. Hermione exhaled, leaning back in her chair.
"We need to focus on getting out of here and stopping that insane political party from rising to power," Hermione said, refocussing her thoughts.
"Exactly," Fleur replied, her face returning to a determined, resolved expression.