The day involved another long trek through the forest, and so did the next day. The danger of Gringotts being nestled in such a heavily populated area meant that they hadn't been able to risk apparating anywhere nearby. As such, their fates were resigned to endless days of picking carefully through the countryside on the way to the old goblin bank.

As they were moving into their second week of camping around the countryside, slowly moving closer to the city, Hermione was amused by how much Fleur had taken to the lifestyle. She still pouted frequently at the prospect of sleeping in a tent for the unforeseen future, and still wasn't the greatest fan of camp-food, but she took to each day with the same confident ease that she had approached the Triwizard Tournament with all those years ago. This certainly wasn't helping the re-emergence of Hermione's teen crush, but it did make her feel better to see that Fleur was cheering up a bit more each day.

Truth be told, Fleur's proud confidence was having a good effect on the others too. Previously on the road, particularly when they were burdened by the horcrux necklace, they had been plagued with doubts and worries. Maybe it was Fleur's Veela thrall, or maybe it was just the daily influence of her quiet ego rubbing off on the others.

Today, Ron was happily swinging a thick branch through the air, visualizing horcruxes as he used it to smash pinecones, whistling tunelessly. Griphook was uncharacteristically positive too, chattering amiably with Harry about the sword of Gryffindor and the slaying of the basilisk back in Harry's second year.

Today Hermione was trailing behind the others, Fleur often beside her, sometimes flitting away to leap up onto fallen trees and rocks along the way. At the moment, she was walking up the trunk of a very large fallen tree, and was nimbly stepping well above Hermione when she gasped. She had misjudged a step, slipped on a mossy patch of the trunk and was lurching towards the ground. Quick as a flash, Hermione whipped out her wand and levitated Fleur safely to the ground, reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder when she landed.

"Watch out, Fleur, that ego of yours can be dangerous," Hermione laughed, and Fleur pouted at her, shoving lightly.

"What would I do without you, Hermione," Fleur said, smiling, and Hermione felt her heart swell with happiness even though she knew Fleur was just joking around.

They walked together in the sunshine for a while, watching Ron ahead swinging his branch at rogue pinecones.

"I never imagined you… being so normal…" Hermione said easily. Being in each other's faces all day every day had brought with it a sense of easiness for talking about almost anything.

"Quoi?" Fleur replied, quirking an eyebrow. Hermione was still mystified at how everything down to her eyebrows were still incredibly groomed while into the second week of camping.

"Just… at the Triwizard Tournament… and even at the Weasleys, you always seemed so intimidating," Hermione said, struggling to put it into words. Fleur smirked.

"That was probably just your crush," Fleur smiled, teasing Hermione about the pictures of her for the umpteenth time of the trip.

"No, that's not it," Hermione said, lost in thought for a moment, "Otherwise I would still find you…" She suddenly realized she was talking out loud and blushed heavily before changing tack. "I mean, you just seem less serious these days," Hermione settled on, finally, "Even though we're in the middle of a war, you're somehow more relaxed than I've ever seen you."

Fleur looked thoughtful for a moment, her face unreadable, before a small smile appeared, "I guess I just finally feel free… No expectations or trying to make things work that don't." She turned to look at Hermione, momentarily disarming her with those sparkling blue eyes, "And it really isn't hard to be myself around you, Hermione."

There was another dull thwack! as Ron hit another pinecone.

The back of Hermione's hand brushed against the back of Fleur's and she felt another blush skate across her face. She hoped the blonde witch wasn't looking at her.

"How do your parents feel about you staying in the UK during the war?" Hermione asked, suddenly curious. Fleur sighed, before launching into a long explanation of the difficult relationship with her proud parents, but how much she terribly missed Gabrielle. About how much she wanted to help the Order, but about how much it pained her to worry her family.

"But what about your family, Hermione?" Fleur said, realizing she had indulged in talking about herself for a long distance of their walk now. Hermione was silent for a while, the smile slowly fading from her face.

"They're… they're safe…" Hermione said, finding the topic still a little raw, "I obliviated their memories and sent them to Australia, well away from the war."

"Hermione, you didn't…" Fleur gasped, shocked that Hermione could be go to such lengths.

"You know what they think about Muggle-Borns, Fleur," Hermione said bitterly, and Fleur nodded.

"Similar to their sentiments towards 'Half-Breeds,'" Fleur said icily. By now Hermione was learning that Fleur's icy exterior was her safety blanket, retreating into it when she felt uncomfortable.

"You're only a quarter Veela though, right?" Hermione asked curiously, "Do people really care?"

"You would be surprised," Fleur responded coolly, again, deliberately setting her face as if she did not care.

Hermione kicked one of the battered pinecones left in Ron's wake on the ground.

"We make quite the appealing pairing for Death Eaters, don't we?" said Fleur, shaking her head. Hermione blushed heavily, trying to stop her mind from interpreting that as meaning a perceived couple.

Hermione changed the subject quickly from Death Eaters, not wanting to bring the mood down any further, and suddenly started talking about how she missed Charms and Transfiguration classes at Hogwarts. Fleur's face lit up.

"Merde, I love Charms and Transfiguration! Those were my two favourite classes too!"

Fleur immediately delved into a story about trying to teach herself a very advanced and complicated Charm to make objects only visible to her, but had somehow only succeeded in making a good portion of her hair on one side invisible.

"To this day, I have no idea how I managed that!" Fleur exclaimed, as Hermione was almost in tears with laughter.

"Its not funny, Hermione!" Fleur pouted, "We had our class photos the next day and I could not figure out how to fix my hair, so I ended up having a bald patch on one side in my class photo that year!"

At this Hermione was almost doubled over with laughing, wiping tears away as she straightened herself up to look at the sulky French witch.

"Oh come on, Fleur, I'm sure even partially bald you can't help but look stunning," Hermione choked out as she tried to regain her composure. This seemed to mildly appease the blonde witch, who smiled haughtily.

"Well, I do think I somewhat managed to pull the look together," she said with a proud little smile. Hermione dissolved into laughter again and Fleur swatted her.

The sun was setting when they reached their next camping spot. This time the boys offered to do the tiresome routine of wards and barriers around the site while Hermione and Fleur set up the tent. They made short work of the tent, Hermione soon turning to set up the campfire space while Fleur roamed off in search of dry firewood.

Hermione pulled out the rickety camp chairs from her bag, watching Griphook skulk behind Harry and Ron in the distance as they set up the wards for the evening. Her mind turned to Fleur. Over the past two weeks on the road, her crush on the older witch had flourished exponentially. It seemed each day she was discovering an entirely new side to the blonde Veela. She had finished setting up the chairs and decided to go and join Fleur in the search for firewood. Embarrassingly, she was already missing her.

Hermione stepped carefully between rotting branches and rocks. How far could she have gone? Hermione thought, confused as she got further away from the campsite. Suddenly she saw a red flash ahead, and something hit her in the chest. She grabbed it reflexively with her hand before it fell to the ground. It was Fleur's wand.

Hermione broke into an awkward half-run, stumbling over the rough forest floor to try to make it to where the light had come from. Quickly, painfully wrenching her way through some mossy and slippery rocks, she came to a small clearing where there was a tall skinny man with a grey buzzcut. It was the Snatcher Fleur had used her thrall on soon after they had set out.

The man was pinning Fleur against a large tree, his hand clenched around her throat. His other hand held his wand pressed against her jaw. Fleur's face was pale and she was making quiet gasps, struggling to breathe.

"I know what you are," the man growled, oblivious to Hermione, "You aren't human at all… You're a creature," he spat with disgust. Fleur's hands were scratching desperately at the man's hands, drawing blood, but unphasing the Snatcher.

A purple mist drifted around the man before he wrenched his hands back from Fleur. Fleur dropped heavily to her knees on the forest floor, spluttering and coughing.

The man was furiously slapping at his skin, which was swarming with spiders.

"Fuck! Get off!" he wailed, slapping every spot he could reach with terror.

Hermione slowly walked in front of him, her face contorted with rage.

"Do the others know you're here?" Hermione hissed at him. He ignored her and continued swatting and scratching at the spiders. Hermione swiftly jerked her wand and they enlarged. The man shrieked.

"No! No, I came searching for her around the countryside… only to discover she was… inhuman…" He yelped bitterly between swats.

"She's more human than you…" Hermione said darkly, before stepping forward with her wand raised, "Obliviate."