A/N: Hello all, been battling that age old battle of struggling not to lose motivation. As always, please consider writing your own Fleurmione fic, I LOVE reading other fics about this pairing in my downtime at work.


The music was thumping and the dance-floor was packed with young witches and wizards dancing to the beat. It seemed that this was a popular method of letting go of post-war feelings. The group were running into many familiar faces in the club.

Lee Jordan and Angelina had appeared on either side of George, thrilled to see him out and about with a drink in hand and small smile on his face. Lee and Angelina took George off to a small table and were elated as George actually joked with them.

Ron, meanwhile, was taking full advantage of the free drinks offered to the Golden Trio due to their celebrity status in the war. He was leaning against the bar, one arm thrown around the neck of Dean Thomas, happily yell-talking into his ear about the Chudley Cannons. The rest of the group were all dancing together, easily switching off and moving to the beat.

Hermione grinned as she looked around at her friends, relaxed and enjoying themselves. She had never thought they would be in this situation a year ago. Ginny threw her head back, her mane of fire-red hair sweeping attractively across her face as she moved to the music. Harry had a lop-sided grin on his face, running a hand through his untameable jet-black locks. Hermione grinned back at him, before looking over his shoulder to see the throng of people around them. She saw Cormac McLaggan, his face sheened in sweat, grinding with a witch she did not know. She saw Hannah Abbott, dancing in a big group of girls from Hogwarts, all in pretty dresses. She looked past the Hogwarts girls and… no.

Despite the sweaty heat of the dancefloor, Hermione felt her blood run cold. The smile froze on her lips. Behind the group of Hogwarts girls she saw a pale face framed by long tendrils of black hair. The face was split into a mad grin, baring rotting teeth. Hermione blinked hard. Bellatrix was dead. Molly had said so herself. She opened her eyes again and Bellatrix was gone. Nobody around the dance-floor seemed fazed. It must have been her imagination.

Before Hermione could let her mind consider the nature of flashbacks, she was distracted by Harry reaching a lean arm out to grab Ginny behind the head, pulling her into a passionate kiss. Fleur grinned at Hermione as they suddenly became third- and fourth- wheels. Harry pulled Ginny closer to himself, dancing closely with her.

Fleur laughed, her melodic laughter barely piercing the loud music. She leaned forward to Hermione's ear to be heard, "I guess we are the odd ones out, non?" Hermione smiled back, snaking an arm around Fleur's waist to stop her pulling away too far.

"I missed you, Fleur," she said in Fleur's ear, enjoying the familiar scent of the French witch, "I missed you so much."

Fleur beamed, flashing a radiant smile that made Hermione weak at the knees. But as she opened her mouth to reply, they were interrupted by a giant bear hug and a booming "'Mione!"

Neville had filled out over the wartime, shooting up and broadening until he was a thickly muscled man. But he still moved like a clumsy puppy, almost bowling over Fleur and Hermione in his eagerness to greet them.

"Neville!" Hermione exclaimed in joy, tugging on Harry's arm to detach him from Ginny. The two teenagers reluctantly parted, only for their faces to light up at the sight of their good friend too.

Whatever moment Hermione had been having with Fleur was now over, as the group continued to have happy reunions with dear friends who were similarly out to blow off some steam.


It was the small hours of the morning when the group threw themselves into the couches and chairs of Fleur's living room, wiping sweaty brows and smoothing damp and tousled hair.

"Whadda night!" Ron boomed happily, sitting between Neville and a contented looking George.

"Cripes its almost 5.30 in the morning!" Lee Jordan exclaimed as he looked at an ornate clock on the wall of Fleur's living room.

"Reckon it might not be that safe to apparate home after so many drinks anyway," Ginny said, giggling at a very drunk Harry who was struggling to keep his head up.

"That's okay, you are all more than welcome to stay here until the morning," Fleur said brightly, quickly conjuring some throws and pillows for the group.

"Slumber party…" Harry murmured happily, and the group laughed goodheartedly.

"I do not want you to think me a bad hostess, but after camping for weeks, I really cannot bear to sleep anywhere except my bed these days," Fleur smiled, and Ron and Hermione laughed at the memories of their cramped tent.

With that, the group settled into some comfortable perches in the living room and Fleur disappeared into her bedroom.

Hermione pulled a blanket over herself, settling in to the large couch she was on and closing her eyes for a moment. The first thing she saw was the moment on the dancefloor, her arm around Fleur's waist and Fleur poised to say something. Her eyes opened again and she looked at Fleur's bedroom door, open only a small fraction. It looked like a lamp was still on in there. Time for that Gryffindor courage.

Hermione got up from the couch and padded across the room, delicately navigating among the sleepy and drunk friends stretched out across the room. She knocked quietly on Fleur's door.

"Oui?" the melodic voice asked curiously. Hermione pushed the door open softly and walked into Fleur's room. Fleur was already sitting in her bed, brushing her long silver-blonde mane.

"Fleur?" Hermione asked, her voice a little husky from having to shout in the clubs.

"Hermione," Fleur said sweetly, cocking her head to one side, "Is something wrong? You can share with me if you like, since I already know you are not prone to snoring."

Hermione chuckled lightly at this, shutting Fleur's door behind her and crossing the room to join the goddess in bed. Fleur finished brushing her hair and put out her bedside lamp. Hermione lay down on her back, exhaling at how hard her heart was beating at the familiar scent of Fleur around her.

Fleur herself shuffled down to lie in bed, before wriggling up against Hermione.

"I missed this…" Fleur sighed softly, her lips somewhere near Hermione's neck. Hermione was thankful for the dark as she broke out into a heavy blush. Fleur wrapped an arm across Hermione's stomach, moving a leg to be between Hermione's legs.

Hermione shuffled uncomfortably. The familiar heat of arousal was building between her legs and it was incredibly difficult to have Fleur so close to her after so long.

"Its been hard to fall asleep without you over the past six months…" Hermione said huskily, the darkness of night encouraging her to spill the words she was too shy to say in the daylight.

"Mn, I have felt the same way," Fleur said softly before pressing her lips to Hermione's. This was the slowest and most tender kiss they had shared yet. Hermione's stomach flipped as Fleur tightened her grip around her waist, running a tongue against Hermione's lower lip, as if asking for permission. Sure enough, as Hermione's lips parted, Fleur's tongue entered her mouth, exploring and massaging. A moan uncontrollably escaped Hermione and Fleur pulled away, the hint of a smile in the air.

Hermione's mind was shattered, she didn't know what to say. She had always wanted to bring up their brief kisses with Fleur, but had never had the chance… there had been a war, there had been Bill… Hermione reached up and her hand tangled in Fleur's silky mane, she pulled Fleur back to her, crashing her lips against the Frenchwoman. Fleur moved more fully on top of Hermione and Hermione found herself suppressing another moan. Fleur's body felt so good, the sensation of it grinding up against her own was almost enough to make her faint. Hermione's other hand ran down Fleur's back, enjoying her toned muscles before grabbing her fantastic ass. They broke their kiss, both panting a little.

"I… I care so much about you, Fleur," Hermione said breathily, giddy on Fleur. Fleur pecked her softly on the lips.

"Everything feels so right with you," Fleur said softly. Before they could talk about it anymore, Fleur had shifted and rested her head on Hermione's shoulder. Sleep was beckoning and neither of them could resist it.


The next morning, Hermione awoke happily to the blonde nestled in her arms. Fleur was awake and watching her with her deep blue eyes, an unreadable expression on her face.

"Morning," Hermione chirped, stretching a little.

"Good morning, Hermione," Fleur said silkily. Hermione swooned, she loved the way her name sounded rolling off Fleur's tongue. The same tongue that had been in her mouth just last night… She blushed hotly at the memory of their late night make out session.

"I meant it, you know," Fleur said softly, still watching Hermione intently.

"Hm?" Hermione asked. Surely Fleur wasn't talking about what she hoped she was talking about…

"Everything does feel right with you, Hermione," Fleur said, her eyes seeming to shimmer with intensity.

"I… uh…" Hermione was speechless in disbelief. Surely, Fleur wasn't talking about anything more than friendship… Hermione never got the girl. She was the nerd that sat on the sidelines and read books while Harry took the role of hero heartthrob.

Yet here Hermione was, in bed with one of the most beautiful and elegant women in the wizarding world, who was staring at her as if she were the only one in the world.

Fleur looked down momentarily, her long dark eyelashes flickering as she looked uncharacteristically unsure.

"While you were away these past six months, Hermione," Fleur said gently, "I… I pined for you."

She looked up again, a light blush on her delicate cheeks. She looked almost embarrassed to be confessing something so personal to the younger witch.

"Fleur," Hermione said, clearing her throat, "Since Shell Cottage there hasn't been a day that you haven't been on my mind."

Fleur's face broke into that radiant smile again and Hermione felt a swell of joy in her stomach at being the one to make Fleur smile like that. Fleur leaned in and kissed Hermione deeply. An earnest and ardent kiss free of the doubts of life threatening situations and too many drinks.

"Well," Fleur said as she pulled back with a smile, "Perhaps we should socialize with our friends who are probably waiting for us to get up."

Hermione reluctantly disentangled herself from Fleur and followed the older witch to the door. Upon opening it, however they found only Harry and Neville perched on a couch. Harry's face was drained of colour and he had a metal bucket in his lap. Neville was sitting alongside Harry, a sympathetic hand pawing at Harry's shoulder.

"Where's the others?" Hermione asked, puzzled.

"Weasleys, Lee and Angelina have gone out to pick up some coffee and breakfast," Neville shrugged. At the mention of breakfast Harry vomited heavily into the bucket in his lap.

"Oh, Harry…" Hermione said sympathetically. Fleur's nose wrinkled at the sound of vomiting.

"I think I have an anti-hangover potion somewhere," Fleur said, before breezing swiftly out of the room.

Hermione sat down on the other side of Harry, who gingerly lifted his head out of the bucket and wiped a cold sweat off his forehead.

"So, you stayed with Fleur last night?" Harry said, pulling a sly smile on his pallid face.

"Hush, Harry!" Hermione said, swatting his arm, "I'm sure she wouldn't appreciate us gossiping about her in her own home!"

"What happened?" Harry asked, "Snogging?"

Neville looked even more awkward than normal. Before anyone could say anything else, Fleur breezed back into the room, offering a stoppered vial to Harry.

Harry had just choked back the liquid when there were resounding cracks and the others arrived, heavily laden with food.


Molly was wringing her hands in the kitchen when the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione arrived back at the Burrow. They had stayed at Fleur's for brunch before hugging her goodbye (Hermione receiving an exceedingly long hug) and heading home.

"Oh, thank goodness!" Molly cried out, running to throw her arms around all of the youths, "It costs nothing to send an owl saying you'll be home in the morning!"

"Sorry, mum," George mumbled, scratching the back of his neck, "We ran into Angelina and Lee and a heap of others from Hogwarts, we didn't even get back to Fleur's until early morning."

Molly's mouth fell open, taking in the image of her tired but relaxed looking son.

"You had a good time, George?" she asked slowly. A lopsided smile developed on George's face.

"Yeah, was pretty good actually," he said, eliciting a teary smile from Molly.

"Oh, you kids!" Molly exclaimed, "Come on in and tell me about your night!"

Hermione had only got a few hours sleep so left the chatting to the Weasleys and Harry downstairs, opting to go upstairs for a desperately needed nap instead. She had just reached Bill's old room when she heard a little rapping at the window.

A jet-black owl was tapping severely at Bill's window. Hermione crossed the room quickly and opened the window, dodging a bite from the owl.

"Merlin, easy on!" she scolded the owl, detaching the small piece of parchment from its leg. No sooner had she got the parchment off then the owl had departed with a huffy flap. Hermione looked at the miniscule scrap of paper, confused. Perhaps it was a note from Fleur?

Hermione unrolled the small paper and saw only a single word etched into the paper: "Mudblood."

She dropped the parchment in shock, gasping as it curled into flames on the floor, leaving nothing but a small patch of ash. Her head swam as she thought back to the flashback she had in the bar the previous night. It couldn't be.

More likely it was Malfoy or a disgruntled Death Eater that was still angry about the result of the war. She shrugged and forcibly turned her mind away from Bellatrix. That horrible woman didn't deserve any of Hermione's time, even in death.

Hermione changed into a loose tee and underwear and slipped into the bed, her mind now turning to Fleur and her confession of pining for Hermione. She fell asleep with a smile fresh on her lips.