Fleur had lunch with someone every day the next week. Harry once, one of his auror friends once, and Hermione three times. Her workmates barely recognized her after her change in mood.
Even before she had left Bill, she had been unhappy for a long time. Now, she was socializing again and actually smiling at coworkers around Gringotts.
At her lunch on Friday, she met Hermione at a muggle café. Hermione looked frazzled, her brunette curls all over the place and dropping her muggle money on the ground twice when she went to pay.
"Are you okay, Hermione?" Fleur said, feeling the surge of her inner Veela as she locked eyes with the younger witch. She swallowed heavily, ignoring it.
Hermione gave a big shuddering sigh, slamming her change down on the table as they sat down.
"Ron and Ginny are coming back next week," Hermione said, her eyes starting to tear up, "Ginny told Harry she doesn't 'feel comfortable' with me moving back into the flat."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Hermione," Fleur said, leaning back as the waitress delivered their coffees.
"Its just dreadful staying on Luna's couch. I already had to do that for so long!" Hermione said bitterly.
The waitress returned with their food and placed it in front of them. They began to eat slowly.
"Fleur…" Hermione said, pausing in the middle of her pasta, "I wouldn't usually ask… but you don't happen to have a spare room at your place I could stay in, do you?"
Fleur moved to politely decline, she loved her privacy, but felt the now-familiar surge of her inner Veela and found herself nodding.
Hermione's face lit up. "Fleur, that's great! You're such a life saver!"
Conversation turned to Hermione's research in the area of Magical Creatures. It transpired that Fleur was just as fascinated in Hermione's work as Hermione was in hers.
They parted ways after lunch and Fleur found herself leaning in to kiss Hermione on both cheeks, a habit she had long since lost. Hermione had a curious look on her face but simply wished her goodbye and said she would be in contact about moving in on Sunday.
Fleur felt herself blushing as she turned to walk back to her office. She couldn't deny that she felt an attraction to the younger witch. An attraction she was determined to ignore because Hermione and Harry were her first good friends in months. That, and Hermione was straight.
Fleur had been back in her office for about an hour when there was a light knock at the door. She looked up, expecting Mallarick, but was surprised to see Harry there standing with two coffee cups in his hands.
"Harry? How on earth did you get past the Gringotts security?" Fleur asked in wonderment.
"Hey, I'm the Boy Who Lived," he chucked, making fun of himself. He came and sat in the chair across the desk from Fleur, placing the coffees carefully on the desk.
Fleur laughed and picked up her coffee, taking a sip.
"So, I ran into Hermione on her way back from lunch with you," Harry said, "She said that she's going to move in to your place when Gin and Ron get back into town."
"Ah, yes," Fleur said, "I thought it would be a good arrangement." Truth be told, she was still trying to wrap her head around her inner veela pushing her into saying yes.
Harry took a long sip from his coffee.
"The thing you should know," Harry began, "Hermione has some dark moments… I mean you saw her after Malfoy Manor…"
Fleur flinched, she remembered well the scene of horror when Hermione arrived from Bellatrix and needed nursing back to health.
Harry cleared his throat and pushed his glasses up his nose, "I mean we all have nightmares about the war…. Dark days…"
Fleur nodded. There were some sights, like Molly Weasley sobbing uncontrollably over Fred's dead body, that haunted her to this day.
Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat, taking another swig of coffee, "Anyway, I guess all I want to warn you about is that Hermione can be a little hard to live with sometimes… But just let me know if you need any help and I'll come any time anywhere."
Fleur nodded, confused. Hermione had seemed pretty normal to her over the past week.
X
Sunday morning, Fleur glided around around her apartment, tidying it nervously for the first guest, first house-guest, since she had moved in. Hedwig had tapped on her window early on Saturday, with a neatly written note attached to her leg:
"Dear Fleur,
Thank you again for letting me stay with you. I will be around at 11am tomorrow morning to move in my things.
Yours,
Hermione G."
Fleur had felt a strange flutter over her as she had read the letter. Over the past week she had been really struggling with how drawn she was feeling towards Hermione. Each time she had seen the girl, it had got worse. If it weren't for that painful memory of her argument with her parents etched into her brain, she could have sworn her inner Veela instincts were pushing her to Hermione.
Fleur understood the attraction to Hermione, sure. Hermione was an attractive young woman, with flowing curled brunette locks, not to mention a very nice figure. Fleur just couldn't understand why these Veela impulses were overcoming her for the first time. It was a shame she no longer had the option of discussing things with her parents.
There was a knock at the door and Fleur jumped. She dashed across the room and wordlessly waved her wand to undo the locks on the door before opening it.
"Fleur! Hey!" Harry said cheerfully, a large trunk in his arms. He struggled in, Hermione following behind him with a second trunk.
Fleur directed them to the spare room off the living room and they set down the trunks. They came back in and threw themselves on the couch.
"This is a really nice place, Fleur!" Harry said, looking around the modern apartment.
Hermione nodded, agreeing, "Thanks so much for letting me move in here for now, Fleur. I honestly don't know what I would have done."
Harry looked pained. "Hermione, Ginny will calm down, I'll talk sense into her…"
Hermione's mouth tightened before she forced a smile.
"Well. Anyway, Fleur, I insist on making dinner tonight to thank you!"
Later that evening, Hermione followed through, moving through Fleur's kitchen like a hurricane making homemade pasta. Fleur came in to fill a wine glass and laughed at how frazzled Hermione looked, flour scattered through her hair and on her nose.
"Its really no big deal, Hermione, you don't need to stress."
Hermione ran a hand through her tangled hair, spreading more flour through it. Fleur giggled.
"I really do need to stress! I was the best in my class at Hogwarts and yet I can never get a simple pasta right!" Hermione said, irritated.
Fleur poured Hermione a glass of wine and offered it to her. Hermione sighed, smiling. "Thanks, Fleur," and reached for the glass, her hand touching Fleur's as she took it.
Fleur felt the Veela pull and the familiar warmth rush over her. She looked at Hermione's pink luscious lips, her gaze raking down Hermione's neck to her delicate collarbones. A slight blush rose in her cheeks and she looked down, hoping Hermione hadn't noticed.
When she looked up again, Hermione was sipping her wine, looking at Fleur curiously.
"Fleur…" Hermione said suddenly, "How would you feel about taking over making the pasta?"
Fleur felt herself nodding, her inner Veela willing her to comply. Hermione had a look of fascination on her face, then turned and continued readying the non-pasta ingredients for the dinner.
The pasta turned out well, thanks in part to Fleur taking over making the actual pasta element of the dish.
X
The next few weeks went smoothly. Fleur and Hermione settled into an easy rhythm living together, almost as if they had always lived together. Harry would meet them for lunch, sometimes stopping by Fleur's in the evenings bringing Luna and Neville.
However, with each new week, Fleur found it harder to ignore her attraction to Hermione. She was becoming certain that her Veela instincts were growing in line with her attraction to the younger witch. She found herself interrogating Harry over a casual date Hermione went on one night, suddenly incredibly protective of her.
One Friday evening, Fleur arrived home late from work, having stayed to sign off some assessments from lower level staff. As she entered her apartment, she noticed none of the lights were on, which seemed strange as Hermione had said earlier in the week she was going to stay in this weekend.
Fleur walked in, looking forward to sliding off her heels and getting out of her pencil skirt, waving her wand to light the apartment.
She yelped and jumped.
"'Ermione, I didn't know you were 'ome!" Fleur exclaimed, her accent thickening with her surprise.
Hermione was sitting in one of the armchairs, a glass of firewhisky next to her, her back to Fleur. Hermione didn't respond.
"How about I join you for a glass of wine?" Fleur said, regaining her composure, "Have you eaten yet?"
Hermione still didn't respond and Fleur felt a little spooked.
"Hermione are you okay?"
"I'm fucking tired, Fleur," Hermione answered, suddenly reaching for the glass of firewhisky and throwing it back in one go. She pointed her wand at the now-empty glass, refilling it immediately.
"Perhaps you should have an early night?" Fleur suggested, walking cautiously towards the armchair.
"Do you know what I went through at Malfoy Manor?" Hermione said suddenly. Fleur was caught off-guard by the coldness in her voice.
"What I went through on the search for the horcruxes? To save Ron? To save Ginny? And now none of them want anything to do with me." Hermione spat bitterly. Fleur could hear that her voice was thick with drunkenness.
"Hermione, its okay, lets just get some dinner," Fleur reasoned, "I think its about time you stopped drinking."
Hermione raised from her armchair, clutching her glass in her hand and striding slowly over to Fleur. She put a hand on Fleur's shoulder, leaning right into her. Fleur felt a blush crossing her face at the close proximity. Hermione gave a knowing smirk as she finished another glass.
"Fleur, refill my glass," Hermione demanded. Fleur opened her mouth to say no but the words froze in her mouth. There was an overwhelming warm feeling coursing through her, urging her to give in to Hermione, do whatever she said. She let out a long shaky breath before raising her wand and refilling Hermione's glass.
"I know your secret…" Hermione said, the knowing smirk still on her face.
"I don't know what you are talking about," Fleur said in her best icy tone, willing her blush to fade.
Hermione moved her hand from Fleur's shoulder to loop it around the French witch's petite waist. She pulled Fleur closer until they were pressed against each other, their faces almost touching.
Fleur felt the rush of warmth course through her. She looked at Hermione's pink lips and her pale jawline before her eyes moved to look into Hermione's dark brown eyes. She was aroused, despite herself, and inwardly cursed as she felt the hotness in her face increase. She could smell the firewhisky on Hermione's breath.
"Kiss me," Hermione said teasingly, pushing against Fleur until her back was against the table. Fleur reddened even more, feeling the desire increasing uncomfortably. "I know you can't resist me," Hermione said with a smirk, "Kiss me."
Before Fleur could try to resist her inner urges, Hermione forcefully pressed her lips against Fleur's, pushing her tongue into Fleur's mouth. Fleur felt a white hot heat course through her, before Hermione pulled away just as suddenly as she had kissed her.
"I hate those fucking Weasleys," Hermione said darkly, before turning on her heel and disappearing into her room, slamming the door.
Fleur turned around, resting her hands on the table and leaning heavily on it. Her mind spinning. She resolved to talk to Harry about Hermione.
X
Hermione opened her eyes blearily, a headache throbbing painfully against her skull. She was lying fully clothed on top of the covers of her bed, a mostly empty firewhisky bottle propped up on her bedside table. She groaned, wondering where she had stashed her hangover potion.
She rolled onto her back, rubbing her eyes hard, trying to recall the night before. She had been walking home from work when she had locked eyes with someone in the crowd who looked like Bellatrix for an instant, shaken, she had stopped into a liquor store on the way home. After that it was a bit blurry.
She clambered to her feet, feeling a little unsteady, and opened her door into the living room. Where she was confronted by Harry sitting in an armchair.
"Hermione, you're up," Harry said, his voice heavy with concern. Hermione groaned and waved a hand at him, ambling past to the kitchen where she rummaged through a cupboard, before triumphantly retrieving a vial of hangover potion. She threw it back gratefully, before turning back to Harry.
"Where's Fleur?" Hermione asked. An unintelligible look crossed Harry's face before he looked somber.
"You shook her up a bit last night," Harry finally said, "You've got to start dealing with this stuff in a healthy way,"
"Oh stop it, Harry," Hermione interrupted, "There's nothing wrong with being in a bad mood sometimes."
"Hermione…" Harry began, before changing tack, "I used to struggle too… but then I found a really good therapist in the wizarding community. Think about it, okay."
Harry stood up to leave.
"And you might want to think about apologizing to Fleur," he said as he crossed the room to the door, "She seems pretty shaken up."
Harry left and Hermione could hear a muffled pop of him apparating away from just outside the apartment. She sighed heavily and sank into an armchair, feeling her headache start to subside.
Her mind turned to Fleur and she had a hazy memory of teasing Fleur about knowing she was into women. She groaned and crossed her arms over her eyes. She really could be a dick sometimes.
Hermione napped for most of the day before waking around 3pm. She thought again about how she had treated Fleur and decided to make it up to her by cleaning the entire apartment and making dinner.
By the time she was setting the plates on the table, there was a clicking of the door unlocking as Fleur arrived home. Hermione stood to greet her. Fleur was wearing a form fitting dress that showed off her figure, flipping her long silver-blonde hair over one shoulder. Hermione admired her figure for a moment before coming forward to offer her a glass of wine.
"Don't worry," Hermione added hastily, "Just water for me tonight. I'm really sorry about last night."
Fleur looked surprised, "Erm, Harry had told me you had your difficult days sometimes,"
Hermione pulled out a chair for Fleur at the dinner table, relieved as Fleur accepted it and sat down.
"I know its no excuse, Fleur," Hermione said, "I shouldn't have treated you like that."
Hermione noticed a faint blush appear on Fleur's cheeks as she looked down at the meal in front of her. Hermione went and took her seat at the table opposite Fleur.
"How did you know?" Fleur suddenly said, looking back up at Hermione.
Hermione felt awkward before swirling her fork in the food in front of her.
"Well… you know my research specialty is magical creatures…" Hermione began slowly, "I did a research project a little while ago about Veelas."
Hermione saw Fleur stiffen in her seat and paused, before continuing.
"Anyway, as part of that project we studied behaviours of Veela. So I learnt that Veelas act submissively around someone that they think could be a potential mate… I started wondering when I noticed you were always agreeing to whatever I suggested… and then I saw the way you were looking at me in the kitchen the other evening…" Hermione finished awkwardly.
She snuck a peek up at Fleur who was beet red.
"I'm sorry, Fleur!" Hermione exclaimed again, "And I know its not your fault you're reacting the way you are to me. Those Veela instincts probably hypercharge any attraction you feel."
Fleur took a big gulp of her wine, still embarrassed. Hermione felt uncomfortable again.
"Look, Fleur, I really don't care about you being attracted to women," Hermione said, offering a smile at Fleur, "And I'm sorry that you're inexplicably attracted to me, but I promise you will meet someone perfect for you."
Fleur smiled despite the awkwardness of the conversation. This was the first positive reaction Fleur had received to her sexuality since coming out to her parents and Bill.
Hermione had a sip of her water. Her mind turned to the deep desire in Fleur's eyes as she had instructed Fleur to kiss her. She shook her head. She wasn't gay, Fleur was. And even then, Fleur was impossibly good looking and intelligent. There was no way that her crush on Hermione was anything more than a passing attraction as she was adjusting to a new friendship.