Chapter 21.
Hermione cuddled with Fleur in the morning light. She was feeling so good considering the disasters that were going on in the world outside of Grimmauld Place.
Fleur kissed Hermione's cheek, before running a hand through her blonde hair, trying to tidy it. Hermione's hands were possessively round Fleur's nude waist as the blonde preened. She looked like a classic proud Veela this morning.
"So, you're mine?" Hermione said with a coy smile, remembering the words she had got Fleur to utter in the heat of passion.
"I wouldn't say that," Fleur said carefully. She was more reserved this morning, holding herself back.
"Do I need to get you to say it again?" Hermione challenged, loving the blush it produced on Fleur's cheeks.
"We need some self-control," Fleur said, trying to maintain her composure.
"Do we?" Hermione smiled, leaning in and nuzzling Fleur's neck. She began dropping soft kisses on the blonde's collarbone.
"Hermione," Fleur gasped.
Hermione ran a hand up Fleur's chest, cupping a breast. Fleur wriggled in her arms, becoming restless.
"We should stay focussed," Fleur said in a strangled voice, already giving in to the brunette's caresses.
They began to make love again, Hermione taking charge.
Hermione was in heaven. She had the blonde on her hands and knees and was thrusting her fingers deep into her from behind. She never thought that the blonde would want her back, let alone want her so bad she would drop her proud veneer. She was addicted. All she could think about was Fleur.
"Tell me you're mine," Hermione demanded, a hand running down the toned muscles of Fleur's back.
"Hermione," Fleur panted between moans.
"Or shall I stop?" Hermione teased, pausing her movements.
"Hermiiiiione," Fleur whimpered pleadingly.
Hermione stayed paused, waiting.
"I'm yours," Fleur conceded finally.
Hermione resumed her lovemaking, satisfied at the moans coming from the blonde.
She took Fleur to climax, feeling the rush of being the one that brought her there.
The two women threw themselves back on the bed, Hermione wrapping her arms around Fleur.
"We need to remain focussed," Fleur said, regaining composure.
"I can't help it," Hermione smiled, kissing Fleur's cheek, "I'm hooked."
There was a knocking at the door and Hermione groaned, reluctant to let go of the blonde. She was still feeling a huge headrush from making love with Fleur.
"Come now, we have work to do," Fleur chided gently, smiling. She tied up her white-blonde hair in a messy knot on her head before swinging herself out of bed.
Hermione watched Fleur get changed with unadulterated desire.
Once again, she was relieved she had never had to go through her first sexual desires at Hogwarts. She never would have got anything done.
When Hermione headed downstairs, the boys were already at the table. She sat down, helping herself to a coffee. Ron handed her an apple, the last of the limited supplies they had taken from Shell Cottage.
"Hopefully we get something today," Harry said, biting into his own apple, "That pigeon I sent out seemed even faster than an owl."
"We'll manage," Hermione replied, "We've got ourselves out of tighter binds in the past."
Fleur entered the room. She had showered and dressed for the day and was looking impeccable. Hermione let her eyes roam over the blonde without restraint. She couldn't stop thinking about their lovemaking. Anything else had retreated into fog in her mind.
"Hermione?" Ron asked.
Hermione shook her head, temporarily pushing thoughts of Fleur to one side.
"What was that?" Hermione asked.
Ron looked at her like she had lost it.
"You never zone out," Ron commented, "Harry was just talking about our plans to take down the Justice Party."
Fleur shot Hermione a curious look. Harry looked concerned.
Hermione ignored them all, shaking her head and turning her focus to the discussion. They would arrange for Hermione to be interviewed by some reporters, Floo-ing her head in to talk. There was a spell they could cast to hide the location of the fireplace she was talking from, which seemed to be a straight-forward add on to the Fidelius Charm already in effect.
The group came up with some talking points and wrote them down.
"You'll need to study these carefully leading up to when we get you a chance to talk," Harry said sternly, "I know all too well how eagerly the media can spin-doctor your words if you give them any room."
"Good thing 'Mione loves to study," Ron said with a boyish grin.
Hermione nodded absently, her eyes already drawn back to the blonde at the table.
Harry came into Hermione's room later, barely pausing to knock.
Hermione looked up from the notes she was reading, raising an eyebrow. It had taken her far longer than usual to focus on reading. Her head had felt like it was swimming. The last thing she needed right now was an interruption.
"Don't you think you should wait after knocking?" Hermione chided lightly.
"Because you might not be alone in here?" Harry shot back, sitting down in a chair across from Hermione.
"I thought we had already talked about Fleur," Hermione said patiently, putting her notes down.
"Yeah, that was before I noticed how insanely distracted you are," Harry commented, "I'm worried about you. Look, if this is all too much with Fleur and taking down the Justice Party, let me know. I don't mind stepping up to be the figurehead and talking to the media."
"You do mind," Hermione corrected gently, "You hate the media and you never actively choose to be the figurehead. People just force it on you. I'm not going to be one of those people."
"I would choose to do it if you weren't up to the task," Harry said carefully, looking at Hermione with concern.
Hermione felt herself getting defensive at that. She was the brightest witch of her age, was she not?
"I'm reading the notes, aren't I?" Hermione replied tersely. Harry crossed his arms across his chest.
"Yeah, probably just because Fleur isn't in the room," Harry responded, "You can't keep your eyes off her. I'm surprised you can keep your hands off her. You're zoning out in conversations and distracted. It isn't like you."
"You've never seen me with someone," Hermione said defensively, "I'm not distracted. I'm perfectly fine."
"Right," Harry said, sounding as if he didn't believe her in the slightest, "Well, the offer stands."
He stood up awkwardly. Hermione made no motion to ease the awkwardness, remaining standoffish. Harry nodded tersely before making his way out of the room.
'Harry has some bloody nerve,' Hermione thought to herself, thoroughly irritated by the entire situation, 'If it weren't for me, he would still be in Azkaban. Distracted?! I've never been so insulted in my life.'
She noted with further annoyance that Harry had left the door open to her room. If anyone was distracting her, it was him.
She stood up, going to the doorway to shut herself in again. A smile grew on her face as she noticed someone coming up the stairs and down the hallway.
"Fleur,"
"Oui?" Fleur stopped in front of Hermione, resting a hand on her hip. She was wearing a white linen shirt that was unbuttoned just enough to expose her delicate collarbones. She had paired the look with light blue jeans that fit her snugly. Her white-blonde hair was still tied up in a messy bun, but some strands had fallen down to frame her face.
Hermione felt her breath catching in her throat and a warmth running through her. She put her hands on Fleur's hips and pulled Fleur flush against her. Fleur gasped.
"Hermione," Fleur chided.
"Come in and hang out with me," Hermione requested, a smile playing at her lips.
"You need to be reading over those notes," Fleur reminded, "We don't know when we will get a response and get that opening with the media."
"You know I get my study done," Hermione smiled, pulling an only partially-reluctant Fleur into the room and shutting the door behind them.
"I'm worried about you," Fleur admitted, as Hermione's hands restlessly roamed over her, "You seem too distracted."
"You sound like Harry," Hermione said dismissively, leaning in to kiss Fleur lightly. Fleur put her hands on top of Hermione's, now on her waist, halting the brunette's movements.
"You're not usually like this," Fleur continued.
"What? Wild about you? I have wanted you for some time," Hermione replied, kissing at Fleur's neck. Fleur writhed a little in Hermione's arms, getting a touch distracted herself with the kisses Hermione was laying on her.
"Oui… But it never affected your focus before," Fleur replied, "Something has changed…"
"What do you think has changed?" Hermione asked seductively, kissing down along Fleur's collarbone now. Fleur let out a small moan.
"Something has changed with you," Fleur continued trying to continue her train of thought, "You've been more… passionate… and distracted… since…"
Hermione was kissing back up her neck. She paused and brushed her lips gently against Fleur's ear.
"Since I began making love to you?" Hermione replied, producing a pleasant shiver in Fleur.
"Hermione," Fleur was trembling in the brunette's arms now. Hermione smirked against Fleur's neck, before continuing to slowly kiss at her soft skin.
"Come on, Fleur," Hermione suggested, pulling them towards the bed.
"Again? Ma belle, I think I need to owl my mother about this," Fleur protested lightly.
"About our sex life?" Hermione laughed, pulling them closer still to the bed. Fleur appeared to be struggling to keep her mind on her task at hand.
"Oui, I tell her about everything unusual," Fleur replied, "Sometimes it is related to the Veela blood."
"There is nothing unusual about wanting you," Hermione growled, running her hands possessively over Fleur.
Fleur's resolve broke and she let herself give in, initiating a passionate kiss with Hermione. Further discussion ceased as Hermione eagerly helped them disrobe.
Hermione stretched and yawned as they sat in the Grimmauld Place dining area, preparing the fireplace for Hermione to speak.
Harry had received rapid word back that reporters were eager to hear their side of things.
Fleur had already set up the small transistor radio they would use to listen to the media conference as Hermione was in the fireplace.
As Ron carefully untied the knots on the bag of Floo Powder, Harry rifled through the notes that Hermione had been prepping from.
Not that she had done much prep.
Hermione's gaze was on a tense looking Fleur. She couldn't help but admire her beauty, even when Fleur looked so concerned. She had made love with Fleur countless times now, in every position and method she could possibly dream up.
She could tell the blonde was stressed that Hermione had shirked her duties, but in Hermione's mind, it was definitely worth it. The only downside was that perhaps she had been skimping on sleep… Her mind felt sluggish and thick with fogginess.
"Harry, maybe you should do it," Fleur blurted suddenly. Harry's green eyes looked up in surprise, looking between Hermione and Fleur with concern.
"No, I'm fine," Hermione responded.
"Hermione—" Harry began.
"I'm fine," Hermione interrupted. Ron had got the bag of Floo Powder open and she grabbed a handful, tossing it in the fireplace impatiently.
There was an awkward pause as the flames changed colour.
"What are you waiting for?" Ron asked, looking at Hermione in surprise.
"Uh, what's the address again?" Hermione asked sheepishly. Fleur bit her lip, even more worried. She exchanged glances with Harry. It was unlike her not to know the answer to something she had read.
Ron told her slowly and Hermione repeated it, getting to her knees and diving her head into the fireplace.
Immediately, she was overcome with flashing cameras, microphones and reporters with Quick Quotes Quills at the ready.
"Hermione Granger, what do you have to say on the leadership of the Justice Party?" a reporter asked, as quills flicked and stood at the ready.
"Pear Charleston is a fraud," Hermione said confidently as quills began to scribble into action.
"Er, don't you mean Charles Pearson?" another reporter corrected.
Hermione nodded, trying to focus her mind. All she could think about right now was Fleur.
"Yes, of course, I misspoke," Hermione corrected. Why was it so damn hard to think?
"What makes him think he is a fraud? What do you have to say about the charges against you and the others in the Golden Trio?"
"He… Well… He's clearly a bad guy…" Hermione said. She frowned, trying to turn her mind to the talking points they had written down. Why couldn't she think properly? If only Fleur was there to help… Fleur…
Hermione's mind began to wander again.
All of a sudden, Hermione was wrenched out of the press conference. She found herself sitting on the floor of Grimmauld Place. Harry pushed past her, plunging his own head into the fireplace.
"Hi, Harry Potter here,"
Harry's voice rang out over the little radio transistor.
"What I think Hermione meant to say was that we can see clear patterns here. A lot of the policies Pearson is putting forward are quite similar to the Death Eater policy points outlined by Voldemort during his rises to power. Also, we can't ignore the fact that a number in his party are former Death Eaters. And how come nobody is talking about the fact he is releasing Death Eater convicts from Azkaban?"
Ron was looking at Hermione like she had gone mad.
"What the bloody hell was that?" Ron said, shock evident on his face, "Since when have you not been prepared?!"
"Good question. I think what we need to keep in mind in regards to the charges against myself, Hermione and Ron is that it wouldn't be the first time that we have been framed to get rid of our credibility. When I was younger I was framed with a Dementor and copped a charge of using magic in front of a Muggle. The media themselves ran countless disparaging stories about Dumbledore and myself when Voldemort returned. We're clearly being discredited for similar reasons. Why would Ron and I end up stunned like that in Gringotts? Why would the brightest witch of her age forget to take her wand with her from a crime scene? It simply doesn't make sense."
Harry was knocking the press conference out of the park.
Hermione felt a little dazed, her eyes on Fleur as she went to the window, letting in a small pigeon and taking a letter from its foot.
Harry kept talking as Fleur sat down and read the letter, her eyebrows raising.
"Seriously, 'Mione, did you not read over anything at all?" Ron demanded, "Why would you do that?"
Hermione rubbed at her eye with the heel of a hand, shrugging. It was hard to concentrate as she sat on the dusty wooden floor.
It was bizarre, it was almost as if as time went on she was caring less about what used to matter a lot.
Harry finally pulled his head out of the fireplace, running a hand through his spiky hair. He stood up, looking like he wanted to say something to Hermione. But Fleur stood up quickly, pulling him by the elbow with one hand, and handing him the letter with the other.
Harry read the letter, looking up at Hermione in surprise.
He nodded at Fleur.
Hermione was transfixed with Fleur, unsure of what was going on, just knowing that the blonde looked damn good.
"Where are you going?" Ron asked, increasingly confused. Fleur had grabbed the bag of Floor Powder from Ron's hands, tossing some in the fire and speaking rapidly in French. She stepped into the flames, disappearing.
This alarmed Hermione. She felt an ache deep in her chest.
"Harry?! Where is Fleur going?!" Hermione demanded, getting to her feet.
Harry came and put a tight arm around her shoulders.
"She's getting her mother, Apolline Delacour," Harry explained slowly, "She can help you with what is going on."
"What's going on?" Ron asked, "What the heck?"
"What is going on?" Hermione asked, furrowing her brow. Her chest ache was getting worse and her brain was getting foggier.
Harry led her next door to the living room, setting her down on a couch. Ron followed them in, hands on his hips.
"Is anyone going to loop me in here? What's up with 'Mione?" Ron asked.
He jumped as Fleur entered the room behind him. She was with her mother, the two clearly having just arrived via Floo. Apolline Delacour was as beautiful and cold as she had appeared at the Triwizard Tournament. Her Veela blood, stronger than Fleur's, assured her of youthful beauty. She seemed stressed, pushing ahead to stand in front of Hermione.
"How are you feeling?" Apolline asked firmly, her French accent much heavier than Fleur's.
"Fantastic," Hermione answered honestly. How could she feel any less than fantastic now Fleur was back? Her eyes kept drifting towards the blonde. Apolline frowned, putting her hand to Hermione's forehead.
"As I suspected the second I received Fleur's letter," Apolline said matter-of-factly, "You have Veela Sickness."
"Are you sure, maman?" Fleur asked, her brows knitting together with concern, "What is that, exactly?"
Apolline sighed heavily, turning on Fleur.
"It is the exact reason I have always told you to keep me informed of every detail of your personal life," Apolline growled, "Why did you not tell me sooner that things were over with Bill? Why did you not tell me about this until now?"
Fleur was shocked.
"I… I didn't think it mattered… I would have told you sooner or later but there were more important things afoot… I had kept you abreast of the Azkaban situation, that was the most pressing issue," Fleur attempted to explain.
"Yes, but this is just as important," Apolline replied agitatedly.
"How?" Fleur retorted in disbelief.
"Because if you have Veela blood you cannot just jump into bed with people without thinking!" Apolline hissed, "Remember the special tea we got you to brew Bill when you first started dating? If you sleep with someone who turns out to be a mate without any of the proper cultural rituals, you can make them seriously sick!"
"A mate…?" Fleur echoed, paling.
"I'm sick?" Hermione repeated.
Apolline turned back to Hermione, her face softening.
"Oui… And it is escalating faster and faster," Apolline said quietly, "We will need to treat you immediately."
Hermione had stopped listening by now, content to just watch Fleur. She really was beautiful. She wondered if they could just slip upstairs to the bedroom briefly…
"Hermione," Harry waved a hand in front of her face.
"Huh?" Hermione blinked, shaking her head to try and clear the fog.
"It is like she is permanently under the effect of the thrall," Apolline explained, "Her desire for Fleur will be amped up and she will be unable to concentrate on anything else."
"Desire for Fleur?!" Ron choked. He looked wildly from Hermione to Fleur.
"Mate, we can deal with this later," Harry said quickly, "Apolline, what do you need?"
"Put a kettle on," Apolline instructed, "I brought the herbs she should have had in the first place. They won't cure it, but they should help slow its progress."
Harry nodded and disappeared through the door at pace.
Fleur came to stand by her mother, wringing her hands.
"Fleur…" Hermione said, smiling widely. The Frenchwoman was just so beautiful, even when worried.
Hermione began to wonder dully if her mind was running in circles. Not that it mattered.
Apolline narrowed her eyes, turning to Fleur.
"How many times have you had sex with her?" Apolline demanded.
"What?!" Ron choked, flabbergasted, "Does Bill know about this?!"
"Maman!" Fleur screeched, "In French, please!"
Apolline frowned, switching to French and repeating the question. Fleur answered with her best estimate quickly, hoping Ron had never learned to count in French.
"That much?!" Apolline replied in shock, slipping back into English.
"Ma! French!" Fleur demanded hastily, as Harry re-entered the room.
"Fleur, I know you wouldn't have been able to help yourself… But I wish you had been less careless," Apolline said ruefully, accepting a mug of hot water from Harry. She took off her handbag, retrieving some herbs that she added. She tapped her wand on the mug, muttering some words in a language that was neither French nor English.
"My head hurts," Hermione complained. All the fogginess was giving her a headache.
Apolline smiled at her, kneeling down and handing her the mug.
"I know it must, my sweet," Apolline replied, "Drink this, it will help."
Hermione sipped at it and was struck by how good it tasted. It was like Fleur in liquid form. She gulped it down fast, making short work of it.
As she put the mug down, her eyes became heavy.
"I'm… I can't…" Hermione couldn't get her words out properly.
"Should this be happening?" Harry was asking with alarm.
"Shhhh," Apolline soothed, "Just rest your eyes."