AN: Bill is awesome and he's like the gay best friend in this fic (like maybe literally) but no, he and Harry, despite previous chapters, are not actually together. And he's all for Fleurmione happening
Hermione panicked, and Fleur found herself being pushed out of the bed "Go, go! Hurry!" Hermione had already jumped out of bed and was rushing out of the room. Fleur had no choice however, but to go as she had been commanded (though it wasn't a very specific one) and had walked rather quickly back to her room. It was only a matter of seconds until she saw a rushed Hermione running barefoot past her room, a string of expletives flowing.
Fleur shut the door to her room and leaned back against it, taking a deep breath, it was then that she realized she was still very much naked and reluctantly, she dressed herself and exited her sanctuary. She padded silently out into the living room, observing Ron seated at the kitchen table, a mug of coffee clutched between his hands, Hermione was nowhere to be found.
"Mornin' Fleur," he greeted cheerfully.
She let out a slight grunt in his direction, moving towards the coffee pot that sat steaming on its heater, filled to the brim with that holy liquid of the gods. She opened a cabinet door and grabbed a mug, setting it down roughly as she grabbed the decanter and poured a mug, deftly adding in cream and sugar.
"Mmmm," she hummed more to herself than anything, savoring that first sip of the bitter liquid. Ron let out a chuckle at her behavior before she greeted him politely, "Good morning, Ron. How was your Saturday?"
"Not too bad, this'll be my last weekend off for a good while, we'll have to move our Friday night drinks to Monday if they're to continue. Me an' Harry have the same days off. Kinda envious of you workin' at Gringott's, what with your weekends."
Fleur laughed, enjoying her luck at getting to have her weekends with Hermione uninterrupted. Just then the brunette walked into the kitchen, fully dressed and ready to go. She couldn't forget that Hermione and Ron had a standing tradition of a Sunday morning brunch down on the square. She felt a loss at the thought of Hermione leaving her, but it was something she knew she'd have to adjust to, and with a sad smile, she watched the two of them leave, hand in hand.
She sat at the kitchen table, sipping her coffee quietly, only her thoughts to keep her occupied on this lonely Sunday.
Fleur didn't know how long she'd sat there when a knock sounded at the door. Puzzled, she got up and answered it, smiling widely when she saw it was Bill standing there. He pushed his way inside the doorway, eager to start his questioning, "So? How'd it go?"
Fleur smiled and shook her head no, "You are ridiculous."
"I know, now tell me everything! I know you got some!"
"I can't deny it, but you know she is still with Ron."
Bill shrugged and waved the though away, "She'll come around, I have confidence in you. Besides," he put his hand up to cover his mouth and whispered, despite the fact that they were alone, "pretty sure he's still got a thing for Lavender, he'll get over it soon enough."
Noticing the sad state of the apartment, Bill clapped his hands together and exclaimed "How about lunch?" before pulling Fleur out of the apartment and down to the street below.
Bill's idea of lunch however, was actually a plate full of wings and a pitcher of beer. Fleur had thought eventually she'd no longer be surprised by his antics, but here was her friend and former fiancee, drinking straight from the pitcher, a pile of stripped bones in front of him. And she had yet to adjust to this complete juxtaposition of personality traits. Normally he was quite effeminate, but there were other times (like now) where she wondered exactly how it was they were friends. But now was not the time to question such things as she dug into her plate of wings, however she had elected to have a glass of wine instead of an entire pitcher of beer. Because really, did he need that much alcohol this earlier in the day? She'd rolled her eyes at him when he'd ordered it, acting like a frat boy (which she supposed he had been in a previous life).
Bill had picked the restaurant they were currently sat in for one reason and one reason only, because as he put it, the food was tolerable but the views were worth it. And Fleur, for her part had to agree as Bill nodded to the side, and Fleur's gaze followed. They had discovered after their relationship ended and secrets were no longer being kept out of fear, that they had a shockingly similar taste in women. Though, Fleur was in love with Hermione (something Bill had figured out shortly after their break up), Fleur had figured out that he too was in love with another. Despite his playful manner and uncaring attitude, their situations really were mirrored and so she felt a comfortable sort of ease with him.
It would have been easy together, they could have had a good life if things had turned out differently, but they hadn't and so, they spent their Sunday afternoon together gazing at the women that passed by.
"They have nothing on the French women," Fleur drawled after some time, a longing sigh followed, "Oh how I miss France."
Bill placed a hand on her shoulder, "I know, but despite all your complaints, you'd miss me too much," he teased, downing the last of his pitcher.
"You do have a point, I could never find anyone else to match your obnoxious personality in France, I'd have to return here just for you," she tried to state with a serious face but the two of them broke out laughing together, disturbing the nearby tables.
It didn't take long for Bill to be asking for another and getting another glass of wine for Fleur despite her protests. Their afternoon spent jovially flinging insults back and forth at each other, teasing each other and making a mockery of romantic relationships in general. Fleur realized she hadn't laughed so much in weeks as her cheeks began to ache. Finally, as it was nearing the evening she returned home, her depression and fears setting back in as she got closer to her shared apartment.
She opened the cool metal door to her apartment, wondering who all she would see. A panicked voice in the back of her head kept telling her that Ron and Hermione would be there, but she only found Hermione, sitting on the couch, waiting for her.
A solemn voice was all she heard, "I wondered when you would be home."
As she shut the door behind her, she thought she heard an "I missed you," but it could have been her imagination as she found herself soon at Hermione's side, beckoned with a dark "Come here."
It wasn't for the first time she found herself questioning what Hermione knew about Veelas and their mates. The rough touch of her mate so unlike what she had been used to before, it was no longer gentle and soft, soothing and tender, but now it was hard, there was a roughness, an anger bubbling just below the surface, and she felt like she was in trouble.
"You've been drinking." It was a statement, an observation, with no room to argue.
But argue she would try, "It was only just a little. Bill and I had lunch together."
Hermione's hand clenched around her lower jaw, pulling her closer as she leaned in, a quiet "I don't like that you drink as often as you do."
Fleur realized the irony, she was sure Hermione had also been drinking with Ron, and so far she'd spent more time drunk than she had sober this weekend. But she wasn't going to argue, realizing that it would only make her situation worse.
A rough kiss was pressed against her mouth, "You're mine." Another kiss, "don't forget that again." It was a growl, low and threatening and it sent a shiver up Fleur's spine. How bad had she messed up? This wasn't the Hermione she knew and she felt powerless against her, unable to stop the situation at hand.
She was pushed away by a firm hand and Hermione got up and left the room, leaving Fleur to cry silently from her spot against the couch, she'd found herself kneeling at Hermione's feet by the end of their exchange. Terror clenching at her heart, she shook as her tears fell.
When Hermione wandered back into the room, that was how she saw Fleur, and it was only a moment before her arms were wrapped securely around Fleur's shoulders, crouched on the floor with her, whispering sweet nothings into the blonde's ear, feather light kisses trailing down her jaw, she lightly kissed her on the lips, causing a new wave of tears to come cascading down.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it, really, I was just jealous," she pulled the blonde closer against her, not daring to let go when the next phrase came pouring out, "I love you."