And so the day was here, Friday had arrived without great fanfare, slipping quietly into place, and her plan was working out quite nicely. The rumor mill, namely Lavender and Parvati, had gone into overdrive, their underappreciated skills from Hogwarts now working to their advantage. Hermione was subtly surprised (she couldn't let them know just how impressed she was with their ability), but her persona had even had a quick article written in the Prophet advertising London's newest eligible bachelor, recently moved from the mysterious land of America (she had chuckled at that one, and begun to practice her American accent), was hosting a soiree in an attempt to find a suitable bride.
The details that had been given made Hermione laugh out loud, there had been a photo of a silhouette included, and after describing some details of this hidden newcomer who, was still unnamed, citing a "lack of reliable sources" and a "need for privacy" the article, written by Rita Skeeter herself (because of course it would be her), had gone on to try and find a suitable bachelorette. Some of the name Hermione couldn't help but smile at while others made her grimace, somehow Pansy Parkinson had made the list (a definite grimace, well maybe a gag at that one), while she laughed at Ginny having made the list as well, along with Padma Patil and Angelina Johnson among others.
She couldn't help the laugh at the image of her with any of these women, at least the ones she knew seemed ridiculous, but there were some names she wasn't familiar with. She assumed they had gone to one of the other magical schools. Hermione folded up the paper and tossed it off to the side, she'd resume reading the rest of the paper later, but now, it was time to finish the final preparations.
Grimmauld Place no longer looked abandoned as it had in years past, gone were the cobwebs and layers of dust, however much of the furniture looked dated and the place still seemed unwelcoming and unlived in. While the image was that she had just moved in, she couldn't have it look abandoned either and so she set about tidying the place, updating the furniture and assisting the caterers (who were actually recently graduated aurors) in establishing their roles.
Finally, evening was approaching, and Hermione set about to get ready for the night, her nerves starting to get the best of her, she took a quick sip of a calming draught to steady her nerves and dressed in her outfit she'd picked at the beginning of the week. It was nearly five when the first guests began to arrive (of course they'd all been told to come at different times).
There was a knock at the door and Hermione went to answer it, checking her appearance in the mirror in the entryway. She quickly patted herself down, hoping everything stayed in place before opening the door with a wide smile. There stood Harry and Ginny arm in arm, with Ron and his date, Katie Bell behind them.
Hermione quickly pulled Ginny into a hug "Ginny, it's so good to see you again, how have you been?" Hermione's new found masculine voice, a deep gravelly sound, taking her by surprise as well as Ginny and reminded her that she was unfamiliar to this redhead, she whispered "It's me, Hermione."
With a visible look of relief, she returned Hermione's hug, "I didn't recognize you like that. It's been a while hasn't it?" And the two were off to catch up while Ron, Harry and Katie were left to wander the house, taking in their surroundings. Slowly, more guests began to trickle in, and by 8 pm the house was packed, but there was still no sign of the secretive Aphrodite.
Hermione was able to successfully mingle with the crowd, maintaining her new image, fluttering around like a social butterfly, so unlike the typical bookish nerd they were used to in their schooldays. Despite being entirely out of her element, Hermione had developed a strange sort of confidence and at many points in the night had a different woman on her arm, secretly enjoying the attention she received.
In part this was due to the fact she felt free to be herself, able to openly flirt with the women who deemed her worthy of their attentions, she knew it was most insincere, but it was a feeling that she had not had before, often overlooked due to her plain appearance on most days. She wasn't unattractive by any means, but she didn't have the ability to captivate the room, draw their attention to her, she lacked the confidence to approach other women, knowing that it would most likely end with her rejection, and so she had withdrawn into herself.
But here, with this image, she was the object of their desire, they were coming to her and she was the one able to reject them. She had even commented on the role reversal with Ginny earlier on in the evening, finding herself back in the company of her friends. She wasn't able to spend much time with them without drawing too much suspicion and so she had disappeared many times in the night, solely meeting up to quickly discuss suspicious actions and who to observe throughout the night. This was first and foremost an undercover operation.
At least, it was until she saw an unfamiliar blonde, one that she hadn't remembered inviting. But she didn't look out of place among the crowd, if anything she seemed almost too elegant for the Ministry officials surrounding her. Her long blonde hair trailing down her back, a light blue formfitting dress hugging her curves, one long slit coming up the side to her upper thigh, revealing just enough skin to be distracting and enticing to the men she talked to. Her voice sounding like a chorus of angels, a slight French accent hinting at the edges of her voice. Her smile, lighting up her features, and at once Hermione was hooked.
She was speechless, her nerves building back up, her throat had suddenly gone dry and she was lost. A warm feeling building in her chest, if she didn't know better, she would say it felt like love. This angel, this siren for lack of better words, looked over at Hermione, a smile playing at her lips and her blue eyes sparkling in the light reflected off them, and gave her a small, nervous wave. And Hermione froze in her spot, she was gone, hr mind had failed her and she didn't understand how she could have missed seeing this beauty come in earlier, but there was one thing she did know, she had to know her. She had to become the object of her affections and her desires, she wanted to be closer to her, to touch her, feel her, hear her voice, she wanted to know her, and she had to do it now.
It felt like she was drowning, every second that passed without her love, she couldn't breathe, she felt like she was choking, her clothes feeling too tight, her skin crawling as though she needed a fix, her mind was focused solely on the woman in front of her as everything else blurred, and she made her way through the crowd, swiftly grabbing two glasses of champagne off a nearby serving tray. She approached her love, her mysterious woman, her as of yet unnamed future wife, interrupting her conversation with some man that wasn't her. Jealousy lashed out at the man who was talking to her, she didn't know who it was, nor did she care in that moment, she needed her woman.
And so she started with the only thing that came to mind, her first words to her future would be "I do so hope you are enjoying yourself this evening." A shy smile playing upon her lips, she offered one of the glasses to this unknown guest.
A slight pause, and with a smile, her guest took the glass delicately between her long slender fingers, "Of course, this is a wonderful party and with such a gracious host." Mischief played in her eyes momentarily as she coyly sipped on the champagne.
Hermione smiled, the sound of the object of her affections igniting a fire within, she could drown in the smooth velvet that was her love's voice. Feeling that warmth turn into a burning, she now understood how Icarus could fly so close to the sun as she found hers. She offered her hand to the blonde beauty, "Josiah Blane, at your service." She said with a smirk and a slight bow. The blonde placed her fingers lightly in Hermione's hand, her touch ghosting across Hermione's skin, sending shivers up her spine, "Fleur Delacour."
"It is a pleasure to meet you Miss Delacour, might I show you around?" This time she offered her arm, and found the blonde accepting of it, her grip loose and her touch gentle, Hermione led Fleur away from the crowd, her mind too busy celebrating her victory at gaining the attention of the object of her desire to listen to the warnings that would have otherwise been going off.
She led them around the house, easy conversation flowing between them before Fleur leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Do you think we could go somewhere more private?" Her fingertips trailing up Hermione's arm suggestively as her body pressed against Hermione's.