Hello everyone,
Let me start with the most important thing: Thank you! You are all so kind and friendly. It keeps baffling me. Thank you so much for all your messages and reviews.
I'm currently down with the flu. So please excuse any weird paragraphs or typos. I didn't go over the chapter after uploading it.
This chapter is quite emotional, if I do say so myself. But it was necessary to get the story to move. I hope you like it and if you do (or don't) let me know in the reviews. :)
Chapter Four
The weeks went by and almost every day Hermione went back to sit on that rock and listen to the waves. Sometimes she would take company along, but usually she would insist on going alone. If she wasn't busy, Fleur took every opportunity to convince the young witch to let her come along. Occasionally, she even succeeded. But her hopes of Hermione opening up to her were squashed every time. She was seriously worried about Hermione's state of mind by now. She had noticed the tension every evening when applying the pain potion. But since they had stopped using it, she was just building up more tension. Fleur was glad that the pain had subsided enough for the pain potion to be sufficient but she missed the wealth of information on the state of Hermione's mind the massages had given her.
Today, Hermione had gone alone again. Fleur and Bill were away, doing something for the order, Luna and Harry had taken over the kitchen to make biscuits and, later, dinner. Hermione didn't know what the others were doing but preferred to be alone anyway. She had yet to bring herself to talk about what happened at Malfoy Manor. Every time she took Fleur along for her walks, she had the best intentions but she always chickened out at the very last moment. To their credit, nobody had pushed the topic or forced her to talk about it. They were patient and careful. But she could tell they were worried, especially Fleur. She once overheard her talking to Harry about not knowing how to get Hermione to trust her enough to open up. But so far, she hadn't ever asked her about it since her first trip to the beach.
Her ribs were finally beginning to get better and the other wounds, with one exception, had healed. Her body was fine, but her mind was not. She didn't sleep properly and she was in her head all the time. She wasn't even in the mood to read, a sign that alarmed even Ron.
Hermione sat on her stone and wondered why she just couldn't talk about it. Fleur had been nothing but kind, caring and compassionate. She always could count on Fleur to make her feel safe. She had never judged her. Just why was it so hard to open up to her?
Luna was a good listener too, but she didn't want to drag her back down to that cellar. After all, Luna had been there much longer. Who knew what horrors she had seen.
Hermione sighed and watched the horizon in solitude for a long time.
'Would you mind if I joined you?' Fleur said softly, as to not startle Hermione.
Hermione quickly wiped away the tears she hadn't noticed before and made some room for Fleur to sit down. Fleur seemed to steel herself for something, but Hermione was too busy hiding her face from Fleur to notice something was up.
'You are crying again,' Fleur said, unnecessarily cold. To Hermione it sounded almost like an accusation.
Hermione didn't answer. Something was off about Fleur, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.
'I thought you'd be out all day,' she said, a bit irked by the French witch's remark but willing to let it slide.
'Yes, but there was a change of plans and when I got back and 'eard you were 'ere, I thought you might need someone to talk to,' Fleur explained. And again, Hermione couldn't really tell what was up with Fleur. She was sitting too straight and seemed tense. Something seemed forced.
'Fleur, are you alright?' she asked, slightly worried that something had happened.
'Am I alright? I'm not the one sitting alone on a rock every day, crying my eyes out,' Fleur said, flinching at the sharpness of her own voice.
'What's gotten into you today? Did something happen?' Hermione tried again. She felt Fleur tense up even more as if collecting strength to push harder.
'You mean anything other than the brightest witch of 'er time afraid of 'er own thoughts?' Fleur provoked.
Hermione got the distinct feeling that Fleur had come to pick a fight. It baffled her but she was not in an emotional state to think logically about it. Her temper was too short for that and her mind too frazzled to think about what was happening here.
'Excuse me, for not wanting to relive every horrible memory in my head over and over again!' Hermione said, getting a bit louder. She just couldn't believe Fleur.
'And 'ow do you think you will ever get through this? You asked me to get over my thirst for revenge and I 'ave. I've spent many nights talking to Bill until I could keep a level 'ead about it. And what do you do? You sit on a stone and cry! Very productive, 'ermione,' Fleur had gotten up from the stone. She couldn't sit any longer. Her whole body was shaking and she forced it still by cramping her hands into fists.
Hermione was shocked. A moment ago, she had thought of Fleur as kind and caring and now she saw her standing there ramrod stiff and a face as hard as stone.
'What do you propose I should do, then. Go on, Madame Psychotherapist. If you have all the answers then tell me how to get rid of this…this shame and guilt and fear; the humiliation! Tell me how to get over this lovely scar on my arm! I don't think that it will vanish by talking to Bill all night long!' Hermione shouted. She had jumped up and stood facing Fleur, yelling out her emotions. An image of intricate glass bottles crashing to the floor, exploding on impact, forever destroyed, flickered through her mind.
'Don't disgrace yourself by pretending to be dumb, 'ermione. Poor, little 'ermione. Do you want to be pitied? Iz that eet?' Fleur shouted, tears all over her face. She looked completely disheveled. In comparison, Hermione was relatively calm. But neither was in a state to see that their reactions should have been the other way round.
'I can't believe you're saying this. I can't believe I was so blind. It seems Ginny was right about you after all, Phlegm,' Hermione shot back. If it was a fight Fleur wanted, she could have it.
'Don't you dare!' Fleur hissed dangerously, stepping right into Hermione's personal space. Hermione saw the how red Fleur's eyes were and thought she had hit home by calling Fleur by her old nickname.
'At first you pretend to care and nurse me back to health, only to show your real self now? You didn't have to wait so long, Phlegm. It must've been extremely hard for you to keep pretending for all these weeks. Congratulations on that. You're just as cold as I thought you were, when we first met,' Hermione went on, still determined not to cry at Fleur's insults. For Fleur that hope was lost. This was utter horror to her.
Fleur was too far gone to stop. Her arms were completely stiff at her side, fists clenched, her body tense as a bow-string. She was filled with fear and pain, but kept telling herself to go on.
'Maybee I'm cold, but at leest I'm not a coward!' she choked out. Her throat had completely closed up making speaking a hardship.
Hermione couldn't believe her ears. To say she was disappointed was an understatement. Betrayed and disillusioned was a a good fit too.
'That's what you think? If I'm such a coward, why does Bellatrix still not know where we got the sword of Gryffindor?'
'She must 'ave let you off eezy, I guess.' Fleur mocked and let out a strangled sob. Both of them were crying now. Fleur far worse than Hermione, both of them deeply wounded but for completely different reasons. Hermione assumed the wind would carry their shouts all the way back to the cottage but she didn't care.
'E…easy? That…that bitch was crawling all over me. Stabbing me. Torturing me. She held me under the cruciatus curse for minutes at a time, and I just lay there, not doing anything but weep. Her only goal was to turn me into a vegetable. She got off on my pain. My desperation only fed her violence more. She carved a fucking word into my arm. And you dare to stand there and tell me she let me off easy?' Hermione screamed. Hermione using expletives? Fleur must've gotten to her.
'Oh now don't bee such a bébé. Zis iz a war. What did you expect would 'appen? She would invite you over for dinner to discuss ze weather?' Fleur shouted back. The crying made her voice hoarse and it started to break. The sobbing interrupted her already erratic breathing. Hermione should've seen that Fleur was forcing out those words. She should've seen the pained expression on her face wasn't from a stupid nickname, but she was too wounded herself, too disappointed to do anything but lash out.
'Can you even imagine what it feels like to lie there on the ground, to know that this madwoman won't stop until she has what she wants? Can you imagine total powerlessness, knowing that the people standing around you, won't help you. Do you know what it feels like to have his most unpredictable servant right in your face? Have you ever had someone use the Cruciatus curse on you? And not just once but too many times to count. Let me tell you, every second feels like an eternity and all you want is to die…' Hermione shouted until she couldn't anymore and just broke down crying in earnest.
Fleur was immediately back to her old self and at her side, holding her tight, softly stroking her back as best as she could while sobs still wrecked her body.
'I'm sorry, 'ermione, I'm so sorry,' she whispered. She was clinging to the last shreds of hope that Hermione would forgive her for what she'd done.
Hermione fought to get her bearings, turned around to look at Fleur. It was a look that Fleur had never wanted to see, least of all from Hermione. Those shreds of hope had just gone up in flames. Even if Fleur preferred to ignore her feelings for Hermione, they were still there and the pain was impossible to ignore.
'You did this on purpose? You specifically came here to force this out of me?' Hermione's disappointment was reaching unprecedented heights. She struggled to her feet and pushed Fleur away from her.
'Get away from me! How could you do that? How cold can you be? Did you get off on it? You're no better than her! I was almost ready,' shouted Hermione but knew deep down that it was a lie.
Fleur could barely talk. The comparison to Bellatrix Lestrange had completely knocked the wind out of her.
'I didn't know what else to do anymore. I just want you to get better,' she could barely whisper.
Then, Fleur was gone. She was half kneeling, half sitting on the ground, sobbing inconsolably. Her body seemed broken and meek. She was shaking fiercely and Hermione could finally see the anguish in Fleur's silent screams. She had never seen anyone in this much pain, especially without clear reason.
At first, Hermione was consumed by her anger and rage. But at the same time, she couldn't bring herself to leave Fleur there in the sand, her own personal purgatory. So she just stood there, observing how Fleur slowly drowned in agony. After a few minutes of not being able to move, her ever logical mind reported back for duty and she saw what had really happened. She analysed the situation and replayed the last few minutes in her head. It all made sense now. How could she have overlooked that? The way Fleur had been so tense and had cried even before Hermione herself had felt wounded enough to do so. Even comparing the state of them both now, was a massive clue to what was going on.
Fleur hadn't wanted to hurt Hermione, she had forced herself to do so out of desperation and worry, out of a deep wish to help her; however misguided. And now she was sitting there in the dirt, crying over a friendship she had destroyed forever. Again, Fleur had put Hermione before her own needs. Accepting the loss of a friendship that she obviously greatly valued, she had done nothing but care for Hermione. Using force must've been her absolute last resort. She must have known it meant doing irreparable damage to their friendship.
Stiffly, mechanically, Hermione's feet carried her back to the blonde witch, who was currently clawing at the ground, desperate to find something solid to hold onto to stop the freefall she was in. She had never felt pain like this and all she could think of was how even though it was unbearable, it wasn't even close to what Hermione had felt that very day. She knew it would hurt but she had gravely underestimated the heartache of losing Hermione. She knew she deserved it though.
Hermione crouched down beside Fleur and carefully put her hand on Fleur's back. She used her other hand to hold back Fleur's hair that was hiding her face.
Hermione's hands were shaky from the emotional rollercoaster ride she had just taken, but all she wanted in this very moment was for Fleur to calm down enough, so they could talk. It tore at her heart to see Fleur like this, much more than was logical, she thought. She just wanted to hold her close and return the feeling of safety she had so often accepted from the blonde. It didn't mean that she wasn't upset or that everything was forgiven but her friendship with Fleur had been nothing but wonderful and she wasn't ready to give up this easily.
She hated that indirectly she was the reason for Fleur's meltdown and swore to never ever again be the reason to provoke such desperate measures, to cause so much pain.
'Fleur?' she whispered softly, 'Fleur, please look at me.'
The French witch lifted her head to look at Hermione. Her usually clear blue eyes were dull and red from crying.
Hermione took Fleur's face gingerly in both her hands, as if afraid to break it, and gently wiped away the tears with her thumbs, before silently imploring her to listen closely, 'I'm not impressed with your methods, but I figured out you only did all this out of concern. I realise that you have never done anything but care for me. I see you took a risk and it almost went wrong, but I value our friendship and I'm not petty enough to break it off because of one mistake you made. Especially, since you only made it because I'm such a stubborn coward. Just promise me that you'll never do it again. I've never felt more betrayed in my life. Not even when Ron walked out on us.' Fleur was the picture of misery, but realised the fact, that Hermione was even here, talking to her, meant that maybe they had built a friendship strong enough to survive this. She closed her eyes and savoured the feeling of those gentle hands. She had been given a second chance. She didn't deserve this woman's kindness but she had been given it and would never again use it against her. No matter how well intended.
'I'm sorry. I've tried and I've waited. I 'oped you would come round and talk to me or anyone. But you got worse each day. Ron said you hadn't even touched a book in weeks. But I still hoped you would find the strength to open up to one of us. But then Luna said something and…' Fleur's voice trailed off and was swallowed by more crying.
Hermione wrapped her arms around the blonde witch, softly stroking her hair. She could feel Fleur seeking comfort and reassurance, so she held her tighter. And so they sat on the ground, seeking solace in each others company.
When Fleur's crying had quieted down, they kept sitting as they were. None of them said it, but neither wanted to let go.
Finally, she asked what Luna could possibly have said, that drove Fleur to provoke Hermione in this way.
'She asked me, if I were standing on the edge of a pit of deadly snakes, would I willingly jump down and wade through them or would I try to find a way around them.' Fleur recounted her conversation with Luna before leaning back into Hermione and letting the silence hang in the air for a while.
'Can we just sit 'ere a bit? I don't want to go back to the cottage looking like this,' Fleur asked and motioned to her face and dirty clothes.
Hermione smiled at her and nodded. It completely eluded her, how even as dishevelled as she was, Fleur still looked beautiful.
'How about we sit here and just talk for a little bit?' Hermione suggested, while she disentangled herself from their embrace and sat down more comfortably, facing the ocean tide. Fleur followed Hermione's example and sat down next to her. She scooted a little bit closer and laid her head on Hermione's shoulder, not ready to fully give up the physical contact yet. Hermione immediately put her arm around Fleur. Both of them were turning ignoring their growing feelings for each other into an art-form.
'When she sent down the boys to be locked away, but kept me in the room with her and the Malfoys…' Hermione began tentatively, 'I was never so afraid in my life. I had no wand and only theoretical knowledge of wandless magic. Nothing that would help me get out of there, in any case. I knew that if I gave her what she wanted, I'd be of no use to her anymore and would be as good as dead. So I vowed to keep silent and not give her any information. Before she started to…to toy with me, she asked me, very politely, where we had found the sword of Gryffindor. I just stared at her as defiantly as I could. She liked that. She said that at least I would put up a good fight,' Hermione silently wiped away a few tears before continuing.
'It was a losing battle from the beginning. The more I refused her, the more vicious she got. The louder I screamed, the more desperate I was, the more fun she had. It took me a long time to realise that this wasn't about the sword anymore. That it had turned into a horrendous game of cat and mouse. She just kept on laughing and cackling and having a great time all together. Sometimes I would catch glimpses of one of the Malfoys. None of them would do anything. Nothing. They just stood there, rooted to the spot, too afraid to get caught in this lunatic's maelstrom. I wasn't worth the risk. Draco at least had the grace to look paler than anyone ever should. Narcissa's face was made of stone.'
'She had dropped me to the floor with just a flash of the Cruciatus curse. I just crumpled down. I have never felt this much pain at once. It was like sitting on a high-voltage power line in wet clothes. She kept on going, each time a little bit longer, and the breaks in between a little bit shorter. It was almost too systematic for someone like her. I was still determined then. I started talking to myself in my head, to keep my resolve. There were other people in the room, but it was very, very quiet. Except for the screams, of course. It took me a while to realise that they were my own.'
Fleur wrapped her arms around Hermione's waist and pulled her as close as she could.
'You don't 'ave to go on, if you don't want to,' Fleur whispered.
'It's ok, I'd rather get through it now. If you don't mind, that is. I won't dump this on you if..,' Hermione said.
'Go on,' Fleur interrupted, squeezing her knee for comfort.
'I think this was the point when Bellatrix realised that I was a lot more stubborn than she had expected. It was also when I figured out that resistance meant violence. And not the systematic kind she had displayed before. She summoned her dagger and just stuck it, here, where the deep cut was, completely out of the blue. She was very frustrated. I could tell by the force she used. Until then, I had thought of Bellatrix as a bit unhinged. But this blow, taught me that it didn't prevent her from knowing exactly the best way to kill someone as slowly as possible. I think I screamed louder than ever before. But I wouldn't really know, my ears where still ringing. I think she inflicted some of the other wounds at that point, but I was so busy dealing with the first one, that I barely felt her crawling all over me. She would whisper in my ear, telling me what she was planning to do. I don't know why or how I managed it, but I spit her in the face and told her to get on with it. That's how I got my broken ribs; from her digging her knee into me with increasing increments until she heard the cracking of my bones under the pressure. She knew she had to be careful. If she punctured my lungs in the process, the game would be over too soon.'
'Occasionally, she remembered to ask me about the sword, but I wouldn't give in. In fact, she made it easier for me, the longer she played around with that knife. I couldn't have thought about anything else but the pain if I wanted to. That's how she never got the information with Legilimency. That frustrated her enough to kneel on my one arm and hold down the other with her hand. I couldn't see what she was doing but it felt as if she were performing an autopsy on my arm. I just wanted to die. I hoped to die, pleaded for it, I even begged her for it. I just wanted it to be over. Every once in a while she stopped to ask the same questions again. Promising, she would end my torture if I spoke. I knew what she meant by ending the torture and was sorely tempted to just give in. I kept provoking her by giving her obviously wrong answers. I told her we had found the sword stuck in a stone, and Harry had pulled it out. It infuriated her even more and she lifted her arm as if to put that knife right through my heart. I don't know what I did, but she remembered that this was exactly what I had begged her to do a couple of minutes ago. I wanted her to lose her patience and just get on with it. So she decided to go a different route and went back to crucioing me. Only this time she didn't stop. I figured, she knew as well as I that death would've been mercy, but taking away my mind would be a life long torture. I held on with everything I had. I thought of my parents, Harry, Ron, Ginny. I pulled up mental images of everyone. You too. I thought of Dumbledore and McGonagall. I thought of everything I could that was good in the world. But it was getting harder and harder. I could feel my mind slowly loosing its grip on reality and that's when everything suddenly stopped and the boys appeared.' Hermione stopped talking. Her voice had grown quieter with every sentence until it had only been a whisper.
Without noticing it, the two witches had managed to hold each other even closer. They sat there in silence for a long time.
Fleur was the first to let go. She got up and pulled Hermione to her feet, before taking her hands.
'There is nothing in my power to undo any of this. But I want you to know that I am 'ere now. I will do my utmost to keep you safe for as long as you will let me and I will find a way to 'eal this damn wound on your arm. I won't let you run around with a bleeding arm for the rest of your life. I will find a way somehow. I'm not sure you can imagine 'ow it feels to 'ear what she 'as done to you. I promise you, not in blind fury but a promise nonetheless, Bellatrix Lestrange will fall at my 'and. This woman will not ever go near you again,' Fleur spoke earnestly.
With every word, their faces had come closer to one another. Hermione's mind had switched to autopilot, mesmerised by Fleur's powerful words, and she moved closer still. She didn't know what was happening, but all she knew was that she wanted to kiss Fleur in that moment. She was consumed by the need to kiss this woman. She had all these emotions inside her and it seemed to her there was no other way to sufficiently express herself. Just one kiss to show Fleur all the gratitude, relief, pain, love, joy, confusion, excitement, curiosity, anger, hurt and sundry other things fighting to get out of her.
And that was when the logical part of her mind returned and she realised what she was about to do. Instead of giving in to her, still very confusing, instincts, Hermione changed course in the last moment and leaned forward to hug Fleur. She sighed inwardly, and told herself that she had dodged a bullet, there. What was she even thinking? She had a mission, a plan to execute, a war to fight. There was no time for foolishness, especially not with a married, straight woman, especially after scolding her for purposefully sabotaging their friendship. As many times before, Hermione shut down what she deemed improper thoughts of the French witch in favour of duty and loyalty.
Fleur noticed that she felt disappointed. She too, had felt that gravitational pull and wanted nothing more than for Hermione to act on her emotions. She had very nearly closed her eyes, ready to welcome those lips on hers. But she scolded herself for even thinking that and convinced herself that Hermione was right to veer away and go for the hug instead. She was married - happily married, at that. There was a war going on and it was not the time to give in to a stupid little crush. Nevermind, that she could tell the difference between a crush and something real. Just like Hermione, she shoved away all thoughts on that particular topic.
They were pulled from their little reverie by a fluffy rabbit Patronus hopping merrily towards them.
'Dinner is on the table. Feel free to join us whenever you're ready. We'll keep it warm for you,' Luna's voice said. Apparently, she had noticed that this 'walk' had taken longer than any other before and combined with what she had told Fleur the day before, she just assumed that Hermione had finally found a way to work through it all.
'Hungry?' Hermione asked smiling, while Fleur took out her wand and started to clean their clothes.
'Very. I'm just thinking of a way to sneak upstairs before anyone can see me. I must look horrible and would like to freshen up a bit,' Fleur stated, screwing up her face while thinking of a plan.
Hermione laughed softly, 'You have absolutely nothing to worry about. I've told you before you look beautiful, no matter how hard you try not to.'
Fleur blushed deeply, but Hermione had the grace not to say anything further.
And while both of them were relieved to still call each other friends, they were also deeply confused if that was all they wanted to call each other.
Dinner went fairly well and nobody said anything about either Fleur's or Hermione's appearance. Bill had looked a bit concerned but knew better than to ask in front of everybody. He simply bowed down to give his wife a kiss, but at the last moment Fleur turned her head and he kissed her cheek instead of her lips. Bill was just as surprised as Fleur, but they let it go for now and sat down to eat. Luna sat next to Hermione and leaned over to quietly ask if she felt better now. Hermione nodded and smiled. Luna simply squeezed Hermione's hand encouragingly and continued eating.
To avoid any more awkward instances, Hermione told Fleur she would take care of her ribs herself tonight. She put on the salve and rubbed it in. She noticed that she missed Fleur's practiced hands. She had grown so used to the French witch's cool hands on her skin that she felt rather like a little child that got cheated out of a bedtime story.
She didn't even bother to look at the wound on her arm. She could feel the blood slowly seeping out of it.
Hermione sighed and decided that a good night's sleep was what she needed now. Everything would be much clearer on the other side of sleep. Maybe her thoughts would be less chaotic on another day.
At the same time, Fleur and Bill got ready for bed too. Fleur's mind was still in knots over the kiss she had wanted so dearly from Hermione and the kiss she had denied her husband. She also missed her daily routine of taking care of Hermione's almost healed ribs. She had to admit that she had begun to see it as a treat, being the one to enjoy the bright witch's trust and touching her soft skin… Fleur cut off her own thoughts. She could not allow herself to go there and instead went to bed. She wasn't even lying comfortably yet, when Bill rolled over and started to walk his fingers over Fleur's exposed shoulder. He moved a bit closer and began to kiss her there. She knew what he wanted, but was too worked up about the day. First, the horrible task of hurting Hermione like that and listening to her story. Then, all the hugging and holding and almost kissing. It was too much to process. She just wanted to get to sleep and forget about it. But Bill had other plans. His hand had creeped under the blanket and was caressing Fleur's flat stomach underneath her camisole. His fingers were rough from working in the shed all day. They were almost scratchy and not at all as delicate as Hermione's. Fleur forced herself to focus on her husband. Her loving, doting husband, whom she loved more than anything and would until 'death do us part'.
But the more she focused on Bill, the more she tensed up and the more she wanted to flee his touch. He was no fool and stopped his ministrations before Fleur had to say anything.
'Did I do something wrong?' he asked.
Fleur immediately reprimanded herself in her mind. She hadn't wanted to make him feel at fault.
'No, Bill. You 'aven't. I'm just…just…I don't know. I'm sorry.'
'You know you can tell me, right?' he probed again. It was obvious that he was trying not to let his frustration show.
'Bill, please don't worry. I'm fine. I'm just not…I really don't know,' Fleur answered. She was baffled by her own behaviour. Their love life was outstanding, why was she suddenly unwilling to sleep with Bill? She was a Veela, maybe only one quarter of it but certainly enough to have a rather active sex drive.
'Fleur, I know something must be wrong. Four days ago, you had a headache, the day after that you were too exhausted, yesterday you pretended to be asleep when I came to bed, earlier today you wouldn't even kiss me and now you seem to be out of lame excuses all together. It's not like you. Why won't you tell me what is really going on?' Bill said grumpily. Fleur realised that he was right. It hadn't just been the kiss today. She had side stepped every attempt at physical contact for the longest time. It was no wonder that he thought something was up. And maybe he was right, but Fleur wasn't ready to admit any of that yet.
'Bill, you 'aven't done anything wrong,' she began softly, 'and the fault lies entirely with me. I can't say what is going on, because I don't even know myself.' LIAR, something screamed in her mind.
'Maybe I'm just too worried about 'arry, Ron and 'ermione.' PANTS ON FIRE!
'Oh Fleur, I know you care for them, but you can't keep them from danger forever. This is a war,' Bill said, thinking that he had finally found the true reason. Bill took his wife's face in his hands and Fleur's mind was immediately catapulted back to this afternoon when a different pair of hands had held her like that. No, not like that, a lot more cautious and so tenderly. She told herself to snap out of it. She wasn't a little girl anymore, having crushes and fantasising about what she couldn't have. Probably, even want to have. OH, PLEASE, that voice again.
'You're right, Bill. I'm just being silly,' Fleur said and pushed Bill back on the bed, swinging one leg over him. She forced Hermione form her mind and was careful not to close her eyes for too long, lest images of the bright witch would pop up. She had little Bill standing to attention in no time and waisted not a moment to invite him inside her. Being part Veela, it was no miracle she had always been the dominant force in the bedroom. Fleur focused on how good it felt to gain back some control. She should have thought of it sooner. After a bit of trying, they found a rhythm and it took entirely too long until both of them came. Fleur felt unusually drained. It was all a bit too laboured for her taste, but she had managed to keep Hermione from her mind. Bill smiled happily and gathered Fleur in his arms. She crawled closer and enjoyed her triumph over her own subconscious.
A moment later though, she was holding her hair out of the way while puking her guts out over the toilet. Bill followed as fast as he could and took care of her hair and rubbed circles on her back for comfort.
Utterly exhausted, Fleur plopped down on the bathroom floor, while Bill conjured her a glass of water.
'Do you feel better again?' Bill asked.
Fleur nodded and handed back the glass before getting up to potion her teeth. Bill had to steady her to keep her from falling. The room was spinning way too fast.
'Do you think you ate something wrong?' Bill went on.
Fleur shook her head and then shrugged her shoulders.
'Maybe you shouldn't let the boys cook anymore,' Bill joked.
Fleur finished and tiredly looked at him, 'I feel 'orrible. I just want to go to sleep, Bill.'
He helped her to bed and she fought for sleep for a while after he had laid down on his side, deeply concerned about what was wrong with Fleur. He didn't know that Fleur knew exactly what it was but was fighting it tooth and nail to save her relationship with him.