Chapter 17.
Jacques had been furious when he stormed out of the restaurant, kicking a wall so hard it scuffed his expensive brogues.
He was angry at Apolline for entertaining the disaster that had befallen his eldest daughter. Too angry to return to their hotel room. Instead, he spent the night in upscale lounge bars, quietly seething over his whiskey.
After their united front when they rejected Fleur's 'coming out,' Jacques had been pleased. He had expected Fleur to disappear back to England to lick her wounds before eventually coming to her senses after a few months of living without their help.
Jacques ordered whiskey after whiskey, replaying the ridiculousness that was Apolline wanting to hear Fleur out. Not just Fleur. That Hermione Granger, the so-called war hero that had left his family name in tatters.
In the early hours of the morning, as Jacques was considering finding a separate hotel for the night, a scruffy redheaded man ambled in and sat beside him at the bar. The redhead cocked his head at Jacques' empty glass before gesturing with two fingers to the bartender. The bartender nodded before preparing two fresh glasses of whiskey.
"You are ze ozzer member of ze Golden Trio," Jacques said suspiciously, "Ze one 'oo ees not ze Boy 'Oo Lived,"
"Sure am," Ron grunted with a bitter looking smile.
"You do not look as eempressive in person," Jacques commented in a bored tone. Ron ran his hands through his thinning hair in agitation.
"Figures Fleur got her cutting observations from you," Ron muttered, "You should've bloody heard her at Hogwarts during the Triwizard Tournament."
"Zat was ze last time I felt proud of 'er," Jacques said darkly, "Right before she lost 'orribly of course."
"Mate," Ron said, raising his eyebrows.
The bartender returned, dropping a tumbler of whisky in front of each of them. Ron picked his up immediately and took a big swig.
"Eet ees even worse now, of course," Jacques said, his mouth loosened from hours of angrily drinking alone in silence, "She 'as been defiled by zat fraind of yours… 'Ermione Granger."
The way he said Hermione's name was dripping with loathing. Ron smirked a little into his whiskey. His hunch about Fleur's dad's feelings was correct.
"That doesn't surprise me," Ron replied, "Hermione's never quite been the same after the war, you know. Damaged goods, so to speak."
"Really?" Jacques asked, looking sideways at Ron. This was confirming all of his worst suspicions.
"She spent a lot of time in captivity with Bellatrix Lestrange," Ron said confidentially.
"Bellatrix Lestrange?!" Jacques choked on his whiskey. The only people that overshadowed the international fame of the Golden Trio were Voldemort himself and Bellatrix Lestrange.
"Yeah… Personally, I think that's what pushed her over the edge," Ron said with a serious tone, "I mean… Personally, I'm quite worried about Fleur. I've always been a fan of that crazy French girl following her heart, but Hermione's a twisted lady… And also, like, a lady. Both of them should be with men that can keep them on the straight and narrow if you ask me."
"Oui, I strongly agree wiz zat, but what on Eartz can we do now?" Jacques said, raising his hands in exasperation.
Ron smiled then, slowly and deliberately. Things were finally falling into place for him.
Hermione stretched in bed. It was the morning after Apolline and Delphine had come to brunch and she was feeling a lot more relaxed knowing she had their support.
She glanced at the naked blonde cuddling her in her sleep. It was hard to believe that everything had turned out so well for her. After the war she had felt so broken and lost… She had been convinced that she would never find happiness again.
Hermione watched Fleur's face as she slept. She truly was the most beautiful woman that Hermione had ever laid eyes on.
Sometimes she still felt bad for how careless she had been with Fleur when she had first discovered Fleur's Veela draw to her. She was glad the only time she dominated Fleur now was in the bedroom. A slight smirk played at her lips at this. Their sex life really was incredible.
She looked at her bedside clock and realised it was time to get up. She carefully slipped out of Fleur's arms.
"Mnnn, where are you going?" Fleur mumbled sleepily.
"Therapy," Hermione replied, leaning in to kiss her stunning girlfriend, "I'll be back soon though."
Hermione got ready quickly, grabbing a piece of toast on her way out the door. She hummed to herself lightly as she made her way down the street in the morning sun. It was strange, being content with her life. But she liked it.
Soon Hermione found herself sitting in the armchair at her therapist's. Her fingers were gripping the arms of the chair tightly. This was always the toughest part, when they finished the initial circling of issues and they delved deeper into what really bothered Hermione.
"So… you had to change, to adapt, to survive the war," the therapist was prompting.
"Yeah, but… I don't want to be changed forever" Hermione said, scratching at the arms of the armchair.
"Why is that, Hermione?" the therapist asked. Hermione furrowed her brows. She hated this.
"I… I had to become okay with being hurt and hurting people," Hermione said, "Over time it became easier… I'm afraid that its too easy for me to hurt those around me."
"Mhmm," the therapist scribbled in a notebook.
Hermione was agitated, talking about it reminded her awfully of how she had treated Fleur. She looked up at the clock on the wall.
"Oh, well, looks like we've hit time," Hermione said, relieved, standing up from the chair, "I'll see you next time."
Hermione had picked up some delicious ingredients up for breakfast after her therapy session and was beginning to stroll back to the apartment. She groaned as Ron appeared from around a corner.
"What do you want, Ron?" Hermione asked darkly, "I have half a mind to hit you after that fucking Veritaserum stunt. You know I could report you for that, right?"
"I wanted to give you one last chance," Ron said, crossing his arms tightly across his chest.
Hermione snorted.
"You have to be joking," Hermione was incredulous. Ron smiled coldly.
"Deadly serious, 'Mione," Ron replied, "Either we're together or you're alone."
"Or I'm alone?!" Hermione retorted in disbelief, "Why is it so hard for you to let me be happy? We're supposed to be best friends."
Ron sighed heavily, scratching at his neck.
"Did you ever think we don't deserve to be happy?" Ron asked, "I don't get how you and Harry can just move on like nothing happened. I don't get how you keep chasing after this ridiculous dream of being happy with a girl. Its not supposed to be like this. We're supposed to be together, keeping each other's minds off all the awful shit we did."
"Excuse me for seeking out a better way of dealing with my shit," Hermione said impatiently, moving to walk past Ron. Ron caught her by the shoulder, halting her.
"Don't say I didn't warn you," Ron said roughly. Hermione was startled by the dark look in his eyes and momentarily paused. Then she set her jaw and wrenched her shoulder out of Ron's grip.
"Jesus, get help," Hermione snapped.
"I'll be seeing you around!" Ron called after her.
Hermione shook her head, picking her pace up.
Thankfully, she had no more interruptions on her way home. She arrived home and began preparing breakfast, trying to push the unsettling run in with Ron out of her mind. What had happened to the goofy, fun-loving redhead she had grown up with at Hogwarts?
The opening and shutting of doors around the apartment startled her out of her thoughts and she turned to find Fleur standing by her. She pulled the blonde into a deep kiss, running her hands appreciatively down her body and grabbing her ass.
"Erm, 'Ermione, I am also in ze room," Gabrielle alerted awkwardly. Hermione pulled away from Fleur with a dark blush. Fleur looked sheepish.
"Shit, sorry Gabrielle, didn't mean to…"
"Furzer traumatise me?" Gabrielle prompted with a laugh, "Eet ees forgiven. We 'ave some eenteresting news for you zough,"
"Really?" Hermione's curiosity was piqued. Fleur had recovered from the surprise steamy kiss and was looking at her more seriously now. "Is everything okay?"
"Yes… we think," Fleur replied, "While you were out this morning we received an owl. Our father wants to meet us all tomorrow. With maman and grandmere, too."
"That's… odd…" Hermione said slowly, her mind already beginning to roll over this new fact and wonder why Jacques would possibly want to see her again.
"It is," Fleur said, biting her lip, "I am not sure I trust it."