Hopefully this makes sense, sorry if it doesnt, had dialysis today and while I want to write, my mind has just enough focus to watch paint dry and not much more.

Hermione raced out of the office that day, wanting to prepare for her date Friday as soon as possible. Her nerves were a mess, the blonde witch able to illicit strange feelings from the young brunette. Her hands trembled slightly throughout the evening, a strange new development that Hermione brushed off as simply being nervous for her upcoming date.

Harry had stopped by that evening in an attempt to help her prepare. He had a good feeling about this, despite the unfortunate circumstances they'd met in, and while he'd been mostly oblivious in his younger years (his time preoccupied with other tasks), he had become Hermione's consultant of sorts, aiding her in appearing more masculine as it was never a task Hermione had particularly had to worry about. Though, she was glad to have his assistance truth be told, she did not feel so alone for once.

It was late when they had finally decided upon her clothes for the next day, Hermione had insisted upon dressing formally while Harry insisted, that though it was a date, the location was the Leaky Cauldron and if she dressed too formal, she would seem out of place, and so they agreed on wearing a variation of what Hermione had worn the first time she met Fleur, a different color palette of course, a black shirt with black vest and a crimson tie, and dark wash blue jeans, tight enough to show how well they fit and accentuate some of her curves without being too tight or showing that she was actually quite female.

Hermione had, unfortunately for her, arrived rather early in her eagerness and so she sat, in the back, alone, a white rose at her side, twiddling her thumbs and gazing around the room, her brown eyes soaking up the details, attempting to commit everything to memory.

The waiter had been around several times already checking in on her, and she had shoo'd him off every time, hoping that Fleur had not arrived and thought she was not alone as had been requested. She was sure she wanted to wait for her love to appear, and no, she had not been 'stood up', she had followed every step with a painful meticulousness.

There was no hiding how her eyes lit up when promptly at 5 o'clock, her eyes spotted a flash of silver-blonde at the doorway and within a second, standing in front of her was Fleur.

Regretfully, her ease was also not to be found as she quickly stood up to greet the French woman and, in her haste, knocked her chair over backwards, drawing attention to them as the bar had (of course) gone eerily silent.

She fumbled, again, attempting to hand Fleur her rose and then making to pull out her chair, her cheeks turning a brighter pink with each misstep, the blonde, to top it all off, laughed at her. Hermione attempted to hide her embarrassment, her eyes turned to the floor, however, there was no 'elegant' way to pick up her tipped chair.

It was only when she sat down that she was able to take in the blonde's appearance, a slim silver dress and a small black clutch, she looked elegant as ever and Hermione secretly wondered if she had a 'casual' side as she'd always seemed overly formal in all of their meetings. Or maybe it was just the French way she mused to herself.

"I had my doubts about your intentions when I saw your letter," Fleur stated plainly, without room for argument.

Hermione's eyes met her gaze, "I hope to gain your trust and show you that my intentions are sincere."

"I hope it does not offend you that I do not trust easily. I have been betrayed many times in life." The waiter appeared, dropping off a couple glasses of water and asking if they were ready to order. Hermione couldn't help but notice that when Fleur ordered her gaze never left the brunette. Hermione, meanwhile, had turned to face the waiter as she spoke to him.

There was a confidence and an air of superiority in her actions that Hermione was slightly envious of, having always felt like an outsider in her own right. Secretly she knew that were it not for the work they'd put into creating this alternate persona of hers, one who was rich and had it all, the world at her fingertips per se, she would never have drawn the blonde's attention.

She felt though, that they were on equal footing like this, Fleur wanting her attention just as much as she wanted Fleur's, something that had been lacking in their other meetings, their meetings where she was just Hermione, and though it stung to know, she would take it and cross that bridge later.

Hermione reveled in the familiar warmth that accompanied the blonde at all their meetings, a soft smile appearing on her face as her eyes began to glaze over.

A smirk, "Ah. So that is it then. My thrall."

Hermione thought she heard a hint of sadness despite the look Fleur sported, a depressed sort of resignation to the situation. She reached out, placing her hand on top of Fleur's, "No, I mean yes, there is that, but no, it's not just your thrall. Fleur," she paused for a moment, steeling herself, "you're an amazing, beautiful woman, and I'm sorry you've been hurt so many times, but I would never do that to you."

Fleur raised an eyebrow, "You are not surprised, why?"

Hermione didn't quite catch on to what Fleur was referring to, "Why what?"

"I mentioned my thrall and you did not question."

"Yeah..." she trailed off, unsure of how much she should reveal, maybe she should have acted surprised instead, it could have avoided this whole situation. Fleur looked at her, waiting for more information. "I kind of already knew that you were... a uh.. you know.."

"Hm," Fleur looked at Hermione coldly, placing her napkin on her plate, "So what is it you want me to do?"

It was Hermione's turn to look confused at the turn of events, "What do you mean?"

An annoyed sigh, "I don't enjoy having my time wasted, surely you can understand that, so tell me, what is it you want me to do? There is only one reason people have ever sought me out and that is to use my thrall."

Hermione realized their date was going south and fast. She would have to do something and soon if she wanted to convince the older woman that she had been honest in her intentions from the start and that the only thing she wanted was a second date (and to spend the rest of her life with her, but it was much too soon for that).

"What do you say to a walk?" she asked, placing her own napkin down on the table. She stood from her chair, having gained her composure since the start of the date, and held out her hand for Fleur.

Fleur looked at her cautiously before slowly accepting it and standing. They walked out of the Leaky Cauldron arm in arm and Hermione guided them down the street, chattering away about things of little importance to Fleur until they were safely out of earshot from any passersby who may have been eavesdropping.

She paused in her steps and turned to Fleur then, "I have been nothing but truthful in my intentions. I desire a romantic relationship with you. It may have been your thrall that first brought us together but since that night I have been unable to remove you from my mind. I have longed to see you again and to hold you in my arms, even if we met under less than ideal conditions. That night was the most pleasurable I have had and certainly the most memorable. I had supposed you were a Veela the next day but with some searching I confirmed my suspicions, and I am fully aware of your thrall, but I doubt even that could be the reason behind your invasion of my thoughts." She cautiously leaned forward, giving the blonde a way out if she so desired before placing a chaste kiss upon her lips, savoring the feeling as though it may be her last.