Hermione busied herself packing the last of her things into her bag. The living area of The Burrow was an absolute bombsite. Percy had come home and Luna had come to visit Ginny, and the added bodies in the house had sent clutter spiraling.
Right now, Ron was lying on his stomach amongst discarded shoes and wizard chess pieces, practicing his autograph on a spare piece of parchment.
"What dya want us to do if any of your fanmail comes here while you're away?" Ron asked, not lifting his eyes from his carefully traced signature.
"I don't think I'm quite as breathless as you to read the post-war fanmail, Ron," Hermione said with a laugh, "But if anything else comes here by mistake, just redirect it to Fleur's."
She felt a thrill through her at redirecting mail to Fleur's place. As if it was their place. 'Woah, don't get ahead of yourself, Granger,' she chided herself. Although her and Fleur had arranged for her to come and stay with her, they still had not really spoken about their mutual enjoyment of kissing each other. Fleur hadn't mentioned it in her letters, and Hermione had been reluctant to push it, for fear of scaring off Fleur. She still could not believe her luck with the beautiful French Veela and wanted to tread carefully.
Harry ambled down the stairs and came to sit beside Ron on the cluttered floor.
"You just about to take off to Fleur's?" he grunted, flicking away a tiny rogue bishop and pawn that had scurried over to attack his leg.
Hermione nodded happily and Harry shot her an encouraging smile. Ron was oblivious to this as he crossed out his latest autograph attempt and tried again.
They said their goodbyes and Hermione strode out of the Burrow to the lawn. As she looked at the section of lawn partially obscured by trees, her mind drifted back to that afternoon so long ago where they had drunk Bill and Fleur's wedding wine and been caught by Molly. She smirked before turning quickly and apparating.
With a pop she arrived in a bustling wizarding street. She didn't want to arrive at Fleur's empty handed so strolled through the shops. She stopped in at a small bottle store, where she had to argue awkwardly with the old woman behind the counter to let her pay for her bottle of wine at full price. It seemed like everyone in the wizarding world felt some kind of debt to her, Harry and Ron. She did, however, reluctantly allow the old woman to take a photograph with her.
When she finally escaped the bottle store, she ambled further down the street before stopping in at a cosy flower shop. It was run by a handsome middle aged man assisted by his daughter.
"Hermione Granger, in our shop! Can you believe it, pet?" He hissed excitedly at his daughter. His daughter was around ten years old, with her hair in scraggly plaits. She scurried up to Hermione and tugged at Hermione's pant leg, looking up at her in awe.
But before Hermione could say anything, the small girl shivered and her face darkened. Hermione felt a horribly familiar coldness fall over her, her chest suddenly aching with sadness. She whipped around and raised her wand, coming face to face with two hovering Dementors.
"Get over there by your father and stay safe!" Hermione barked at the small girl, who whimpered and obeyed, running to hide behind her dad.
The Dementors lurched closer and Hermione felt the sadness and desolation slice further through her. Thoughts of all the dead children at the battle of Hogwarts entered her mind, unbidden, as well as the feeling that perhaps it was her fault for not saving them. She furrowed her brows. She was not about to survive the wizarding war only to be taken down by two stray Dementors. She tightened her grip on her wand, focusing hard on the memory of waking up in the morning with Fleur in her arms.
"Expecto patronum!" she bellowed, and a bright shimmering white figure emerged from her wand.
To her complete confusion, the figure was not the usual otter, but a large bird of prey. It swooped at the Dementors who promptly fled in a flurry of dark plumes of smoke.
"Blimey! Dementor's in Rowena Avenue!" the florist exclaimed. Hermione turned back to him, exhaling heavily.
"I suppose they still have a lot of the baddies to round up yet," the florist babbled, holding his daughter close to him.
"Yeah," said Hermione distractedly, her mind still on her changed patronus. She picked up a the nearest bouquet of flowers and tossed a galleon on the counter, turning to leave the shop with a head swirling with thoughts.
"Cor—thanks a lot Miss Granger! Thanks for everything!" the shopkeeper called after her. Hermione rejoined the throngs of people walking about the street, noting a couple of aurors with stern faces heading in the direction of the florist's.
It only took Hermione about ten minutes walk to reach Fleur's apartment building. It was situated down a quiet residential street, a cute brick building with numerous balconies.
Hermione had barely knocked once at Fleur's door when it sprang open.
"Hermione!" Fleur exclaimed, excitedly giving Hermione a hug, "I am so glad you are here."
Fleur sprang back, allowing Hermione to walk into her flat. Hermione wandered in, looking around at the completely immaculate apartment. She could swear it was nowhere near this meticulous the last time she had visited.
"I may have been a little nervous about you coming," Fleur laughed nervously, as Hermione observed her now alphabetized bookshelf. Hermione's face split into a large grin, Dementors entirely forgotten as her heart soared at the thought of making Fleur Delacour nervous.
"I thought your ego rendered nervousness impossible," Hermione teased, producing the bottle of wine and bouquet of flowers from her extendable bag. Fleur playfully pouted.
"You are lucky you come bearing gifts, Hermione Granger," Fleur joked, accepting the gifts. She put them down in her kitchen before returning and kissing Hermione swiftly on the lips. Hermione blushed.
"I, uh…" Hermione was rendered momentarily speechless by the surprise kiss from the blonde beauty.
"Perhaps my ego is justified," Fleur laughed. Hermione snapped out of her trance and slapped Fleur's arm.
"No, it most certainly is out of control," Hermione laughed back, "I just… I wasn't expecting that,"
Fleur cocked her head to one side, curious. "I thought we discussed this the last time you were here," Fleur said.
"Kind of…" Hermione conceded, "But not really… So much has happened. There was the war, there was Bill, there was me disappearing for a good six months…"
Fleur smiled disarmingly at Hermione, taking her by the arm and ushering her to sit with her on the couch.
"Hermione," Fleur began, "I agree, it was all very confusing with Bill… And I admit, by the time we got to the Battle of Hogwarts I was feeling very conflicted. A lot of my attraction to you felt like it could be because you were everything I had wanted from Bill and did not have."
Hermione bit her lip, this was exactly what she had feared would happen. Fleur smiled warmly again and placed a hand on top of Hermione's.
"But with the separation from Bill," Fleur continued, "And a whole half a year without either of you being around, I really discovered what I want."
Hermione didn't dare smile. She feared that everything really was too good to be true. "And that is?" Hermione said, her voice cracking a little bit with her nervousness.
"I want you, Hermione," Fleur said, smiling widely, "I meant it when I said everything feels so right with you,"
With that, Hermione slipped her hand from underneath Fleur's, taking her by the wrist and pulling her into a searing kiss. Fleur's mouth opened a little in surprise, and Hermione slipped her tongue inside, eliciting a moan from Fleur. Fleur moved smoothly to straddle Hermione's lap. One of Fleur's hands found its way to the back of Hermione's neck, tangled in her wild hair. They broke apart, staring into each other's eyes. Hermione was breathless as she noticed how dilated Fleur's pupils were. Fleur's hand remained on the back of Hermione's neck. Hermione moved slowly now, savouring the closeness with Fleur. She nuzzled into Fleur's neck, inhaling the scent of vanilla and lilies before planting a string of light kisses along Fleur's throat. She pulled back again to look at Fleur's painfully beautiful face again.
"Be mine?" Hermione said in almost a whisper. Fleur smiled.
"Gladly."
Hermione spent the rest of the day and well into the evening alternating between kissing Fleur and catching up with her. She was addicted to the woman and just could not get enough.
She was amused to learn that Fleur had viewed no less than fifty apartments before she finally found one that fit her style when she moved to the city. She told Fleur about the alarming creatures both magical and non-magical that she had seen in Australia. Fleur explained that she was now working at the Ministry because Gringotts refused to hire her back after the bank heist. Hermione felt a little guilty for this.
It was well after dinner when they were curling up on the couch with their second glasses of wine when Hermione remembered the strange Dementor attack and recounted it for Fleur. Fleur paused in her steady rhythm of running her hand through Hermione's hair.
"They seem to have been becoming more frequent in the past month, I hope that does not signal something bad," she murmured. Hermione shivered at the though and cuddled closer to Fleur.
The first two weeks of staying with Fleur were a blur for Hermione. While Fleur had expressed that she was not yet ready to go all the way with Hermione, they had fallen into a domesticated bliss almost as if they had been together for years.
This afternoon, Hermione was standing in Fleur's bathroom, fruitlessly trying to tame her wild curls when her brush slipped out of her hand and knocked over a series of beauty products from beside the basin.
Fleur appeared behind her in a flash, concern in her eyes quickly replaced with mirth. "Ohh, ma petit lionne," she giggled running a hand through Hermione's wild mane of hair. Hermione scrunched up her face.
"Its not my fault you have about a million moisturisers and toners and the likes littering your bathroom," she said sulkily and Fleur laughed melodically in reply.
"Come, we will miss the food market all together if we do not leave now," Fleur said, sliding an arm around Hermione's waist, "Besides, I love your wild little mane the way it is."
Hermione blushed lightly. She still could not get used to being on the receiving end of Fleur Delacour's romantic affections.
They roamed through town and to the food market hand in hand and Hermione could not help but beam with happiness. Fleur didn't even release her hand as she lifted various vegetables and fruits to inspect them.
"Would you enjoy a pasta or a salad more?" Fleur hummed as she inspected a batch of vine tomatoes.
Hermione opened her mouth to respond when the crowd across from the vegetable section parted briefly. The air rushed from her lungs as she glimpsed a pale, maniacal face framed by black tendrils of hair. She squeezed Fleur's hand hard with fear.
Fleur let out a surprised yelp before looking at Hermione.
"Are you all right ma petit lionne?" she said with concern, putting a hand on Hermione's cheek and turning her face to look at her.
"Y-yeah," Hermione said, before wrenching her face back to look at the gap in the crowd again. Bellatrix was gone.
"I-I think I'm just seeing things," she stammered. Fleur squeezed her hand lightly and kissed her quickly on the lips.
"Well, I am just about done here. How about we go home and relax with a nice cup of tea ma cherie?"
Hermione nodded, pacified slightly. But the hair on the back of her neck was still raised as she could not shake the feeling that they were being watched.
That evening, Fleur happily sang to herself in the kitchen as she cooked them a pasta. Hermione sat at the kitchen island swirling a glass of wine and watching Fleur with unrestrained affection.
"So, I will have to return to the Burrow eventually, Fleur," Hermione said carefully, watching her wine swish as she nursed her glass. Fleur stopped her singing and put down the knife she was using to chop vegetables. She turned to face Hermione, some strands of her platinum blonde hair falling out of her top knot and across her face. She brushed them aside with an air of aloofness. Hermione recognized the familiar iciness, Fleur was feeling insecure.
"You could…" Fleur began carefully, her voice sounding deliberately uncaring, "You could always move in with me. Surely in the city is an easier place to plan what you will do next following the war?"
Fleur was looking at her perfectly manicured nails on the kitchen island, intentionally avoiding Hermione's gaze.
"I would love to, Fleur," Hermione said warmly, and she melted as Fleur looked up at her with a radiant smile.
"I will however need to return to the Burrow to collect the rest of my things and tell the Weasleys and Harry about my plans," she added, but Fleur was still beaming with happiness.
"Oh, magnifique!" she chirped, clapping her hands together with joy.
"I can head there tomorrow and get my things? Unless you think that is too soon?" Hermione asked cautiously.
"Of course not!" Fleur grinned, "Although I will be at work tomorrow so will be unable to accompany you."
"Hmn, Fleur Delacour conveniently indisposed when the dull job of packing and moving house is involved…" Hermione teased and Fleur laughed.
"I will be waiting here for you when you come home," Fleur reasoned, "And I will make sure to prepare us a delectable feast to celebrate you moving in."
Hermione's heart surged with happiness. Never in a million years had she predicted her life falling together so perfectly.
That night as she fell asleep with her arms wrapped around Fleur her face hurt from smiling so much that day.
The next morning after a searing goodbye kiss from Fleur that made her weak at the knees, Hermione apparated back to the Burrow.
She entered to find Molly, Harry, Ginny, George and Ron sitting at the dining table tucking into breakfast.
"Hi, 'Mione!" Harry greeted her warmly, pulling back a chair beside himself for Hermione to join. She came and sat down next to him, reaching for a piece of toast to butter.
"How was London?" George asked in a friendly tone. Hermione was glad to see him up and showered before the afternoon and engaging in conversation. It appeared he was finally on the mend.
"It was great! In fact, that's what I wanted to talk to you about," Hermione replied, pouring herself a mug of tea, "Fleur has asked me to move in with her."
Ron snorted as he swallowed a large mouthful of food, "Yeah good luck keeping that raging crush of yours under wraps around a newly single Fleur," he snickered. Ginny giggled too.
"Actually, I don't think that will be much of a problem…" Hermione said awkwardly, semi hiding behind her mug of tea as she raised it to her lips. Harry broke into a lopsided grin.
"I bloody knew she liked you back!" he chuckled, clapping a hand on Hermione's shoulder as she blushed lightly.
"What?!" Ginny exclaimed in disbelief.
"Its all very new…" Hermione explained weakly as Ron purpled and made a light choking noise.
"You and Fleur," Molly said, interrupting the chatter. Hermione froze. She had no idea how Molly would react to such news.
"Well, I guess Fleur will be remaining a part of the family after all," Molly mused warmly, and Hermione grinned happily. She had the blessing of the Weasleys.
"Apart from snagging the hottest witch in Europe, how was the rest of your trip?" George asked with a grin. Hermione laughed.
"It was great actually, although…" she frowned, unsure if she should even bring up something so strange.
"What happened, 'Mione?" Harry asked, looking at her with interest. Hermione shook her head.
"I think I must be struggling with some kind of PTSD, I keep seeing Bellatrix everywhere I go," she said darkly, looking down at her plate.
Molly dropped her fork loudly.
"Aw, 'Mione," Ron said between a mouthful of eggs, "She's dead, remember that. Right mum?"
Molly was now sheet-white and shaking, trying unsuccessfully to pick up her fork with trembling hands. Ginny frowned at her mother's strange demeanour.
"Right mum?" Ginny repeated Ron's question. Molly made a small strangled noise.
"Just be careful, dear," Molly said in a trembling voice to Hermione. Everyone's eyebrows shot up.
"Mum, you did kill Bellatrix, right?" George said, his voice forcefully even. Molly looked up at her son, guilt painting her features heavily.
"I…" Molly began, before pausing uncomfortably, "I didn't want any of you going after her and… ending up like Fred."
At that, everyone at the table dropped their utensils with a clatter. George knocked over his cup of tea.
"Y-you told us you k-killed her!" George said, raising his voice, "The Ministry aren't even looking for her because you told everyone you killed her!"
Molly looked pained, "I couldn't lose another one of you."
George stood up, knocking his chair over with the force in which he moved. He stormed out of the room and the front door of the Burrow banged deafeningly.
The rest of the house was in a commotion. The Weasleys turned on Molly, starting a screaming match that would rival banshees. Hermione silently turned and ran up the stairs lightly to Bill's room. She had already began packing her books when she became aware that Harry had followed her.
"You okay, 'Mione?" Harry asked quietly. He of all people knew how she was plagued by the torture Bellatrix had subjected her to at Malfoy Manor. She dropped her books with a sigh and turned to face Harry.
"Not really," she said finally, sitting down on the bed. It was one thing to be seeing Bellatrix everywhere. It was an entirely knew thing to realize Bellatrix actually could have been following her for weeks.
Harry came and sat beside her, putting an arm around her. Hermione rested her head against his shoulder. She let out a long and shaky breath.
It was late when Harry helped Hermione with her things to Fleur's apartment. After a day of being surrounded by blazing rows at the Burrow, he was eager for an excuse to get out. He followed Hermione up the stairs, carrying a simple satchel over his shoulder. Hermione had managed to magically minimize all of her worldly belongings to fit in only a few modestly sized bags.
As they reached the top of the stairs, he caught the smile on Hermione's face as she pulled out her key to unlock Fleur's apartment.
"I don't think I've ever seen you look this happy, Hermione," Harry commented, and Hermione blushed.
"I don't know if I've ever felt this happy," she replied truthfully. She clicked the door open and Harry followed her through the doorway, having to brake suddenly as Hermione came to an abrupt stop.
Fleur's apartment was a mess. The furniture was upturned, there were scorch marks on the expensive wallpaper, photo frames were cracked, there were even ominous drops of blood on one of the rugs.
Hermione and Harry dropped their bags with shock. Hermione turned to Harry, her eyes blurred with tears but full of a rage he had never seen before.
"Bellatrix."
