DEFYING GRAVITY
FD/HG
A/N: Thanks goes to all those who took their time to read and review, and to those who of you who are lurking in the shadows, thanks for the favorites and alerts.
Read it. Praise it. Flame it. Burn it.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything, except for the plot (^_^) because if I did, Fleur and Hermione will end up with a happily ever after.
Two
"So," Draco Malfoy drawled.
"So what?" Hermione answered, feigning ignorance at the slightly irritated tone Malfoy was using.
Draco ran his hand over his perfectly greased back blonde hair and set down the sheaf of parchment, which Hermione handed him over, the moment she got in his office. He leaned back comfortably on his leather chair and looked at the brunette with an ice cold stare, who at the moment was standing next to his towering mahogany bookshelf. Hermione was still casually leafing through the same book which she took out from his collection, the minute he started reading the four pages long report, waiting for him to finish it.
"I didn't know you read this kind of stuff," she murmured almost to herself. Sensing, that Draco had already finished going over the sheaf of parchment she had given him, she closed the book that she was holding with a soft thud, and placed it back to where she took it from. She made an exaggerated gesture in doing so, completely turning her back on Malfoy, she knew that the latter was eyeing her, if looks could kill, she would have dropped dead minutes ago.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, Granger, but from what I read from your report, basically, you made one royal mess."
"It wasn't a royal mess, Malfoy," Hermione said, noting that she was starting to get irritated because of the condescending tone Malfoy was using at her now. Facing Malfoy, she equalled his stare with an ice cold one from hers, clearly Draco was accusing her for everything that went wrong last night.
"Enlighten me then, since I wasn't there, how was it not a mess?"
"We obtained information from him, aside from that, we also cleaned up everything before leaving, there wasn't a trace of magic left in that sleazy pub."
"Information?" Draco leaned forward, he pointed at the sheaf of parchment before him, "You call this one word information?"
"It's not just any random word and it was better than nothing!" Hermione threw up her hands in the air. "And you know it."
"Even so, don't go patting yourself on the back over that one word, it doesn't justify the magical catastrophe that you caused."
"Whose patting herself on the back? I wouldn't be that pompous or arrogant, that's your job, not mine."
"Watch it, Granger," Malfoy warned. He already knew that he picked this fight, well he always starts their little arguments for that matter. It has been like that, for as long as he could remember, ever since they were still students at Hogwarts. For some unknown reason, he always seems to get some sort of satisfaction in making a rise out of Hermione, he didn't know of it at that time, he only realized it years later, when he saw Granger was short listed for a position in his department. He doesn't really want to go over the details, because it was childish, it was a simple crush, that was all. And now, Hermione was once again getting worked up from his bait, it wasn't always his intention to start an argument so early in the morning, but flustering Hermione at the start of his day, was strangely rewarding. Yeah, he's still childish that way, but no one has to know.
Hermione became all too aware that she locked them in a standstill, the moment she said those words. It's true that Malfoy would never win against her, not anymore, he had bullied her enough already, but something changed in the man this past four years, it was something good, and it was a little hard to believe at first, but then again, having known evil his entire life, something was bound to change. But, it's still not an excuse for him to accuse her blatantly like this. They weren't really friends yet, contrary to what Ron and Harry's relationship with the latter, but the two of them were civil to each other. It's not like they were still children, right?
"Fine then, if you really want to point fingers, it was Fleur who overreacted! It wouldn't have happened if she kept herself in check, I'm willing to accept, half of the responsibility and no more than that! So quit blaming me!"
"You're missing the point, Granger! It was your run, so naturally you're taking full responsibility!"
"And what's the use of having a partner then?" Hermione seethed back. "If you had just let me at it alone, it would have gone on better than what took place!"
"Are you so high and mighty, Granger, to think that you're above the protocol? Yes, Hermione Jean Granger, the famous witch who helped defeat the Dark Lord, big deal. None of that matters here in my Department."
"No, Draco," Hermione answered quietly, she was barely containing the anger that was bubbling just beneath the surface. "The last time I checked, that was you." She then cross her arms over chest, as if standing firm to the point she was making.
"If you're trying to be sarcastic, it's not going to get you anywhere with me."
Hermione just uncrossed her arms and slowly took three steps, so that she would just be standing in front of Malfoy's desk. She placed a hand on the desk, then leaned over, their faces just inches apart, her expression one of deadly calm.
If Malfoy, felt any danger, he did not show it, he did not even flinched, although, it wasn't unwelcome for him, for their faces to be this close, Hermione has smooth skin, he thought all too suddenly. His almost perverted thoughts where interrupted when Hermione spoke.
"Alright, I concede, you win." Her tone taking in a lower note.
Draco raised his eyebrows in response.
"I've played your game, for the past eight months, and I played it coolly. So, you win." Hermione straightened up and crossed her arms over her chest again. "I can't work with her anymore. There, I said it, so whatever satisfaction you got out of seeing me struggle all this time, revel in it as much as you want, I don't care, as long as you partner me up with someone else, it doesn't matter who it is, just as long as it's not Delacour."
"As much as I find it gratifying to hear you say that, the answer is no. And it's not an option, not for you two anyway." His face an expression of his classic smirk, which Hermione found irritating her once again.
"Why the bloody hell not?" She slammed a hand on Malfoy's desk. "She was working alone when I got here, why can't I?"
"Are you seriously asking me this question?" Draco was dumbfounded when Hermione said those words. All this while, he thought that Hermione had realized it by now, but the thing was, he was only finding out something new about Hermione Granger, when it comes to herself, she was being oblivious. "I'm not entirely sure, if you're playing stupid or not."
"Shut it, Malfoy. The last time you called me stupid, it wasn't a pretty picture for you, was it."
"I am not calling you stupid Granger, just to annoy you. Or maybe, idiotic would suit your tastes better? Because you're being stupid or idiotic as of this very moment, I don't know which is it, so take your pick." He drawled out slowly.
Hermione had no answer to that, he's got a lot of nerve to call her stupid and idiotic at the same time, sure it could be just simply that, to annoy her, but Hermione couldn't help feeling that she was missing something and that Draco knows what it was.
He was studying the brunette before him. Hermione was staring at something way past his shoulder. True, that Hermione was angry now, and she was just barely containing it but he couldn't help thinking, how can she really not know? "You're not even going ask me why?"
"You're going to tell me anyway, whether I asked or not."
"Good, because, you're the only one who can work with her. There are rules and protocols that magically binds our contract with the Department's purpose."
"Really," Hermione scoffed in response. "That is your brilliant excuse and explanation for calling me stupid and an idiot at the same time. Good for you, now I know we have such a great head of department, congratulations, Malfoy."
"Do you really not get it, Granger?" He paused and then he began chuckling, which turned into hysterical laughter in just mere moments. "This is an all time new," he managed to croaked out in between bursts of laughter. He finally stopped when he saw the murderous look on Hermione's face, he knew that kind of face Hermione was making, memorized it in fact, it was the face that meant Hermione was about to curse him. "And here, I thought, that you are the brightest witch of our time, I had no idea you could be this daft," he added, wiping a tear from his eye.
"Apparently, I'm missing the joke here, now shut it, Malfoy, or I swear—"
"Or what," he interrupted. "You're going to rain curses upon me, to the point I won't even know my back from my front? Go ahead, I'd like to see you try!"
"Fine then! Why the bloody hell am I the only who can work with her?"
"It's because, that damn veela thrall doesn't work on you! Tell me, Granger, for the past eight months, have you been experiencing a change in personality, whenever you're near her? Let me guess the answer, it would be 'no', because you're still that insufferable know it all."
"You've got it all wrong, surely I'm not—" Hermione stopped in mid sentence, she hated to admit it, but there was some truth to what Draco had just said to her.
"What? You're really just realizing it now? I can't believe it."
"I can't be the only one! There are others out there for all we know!"
"Perhaps, you're right, and supposedly there are others out there who are immune like you to that veela thrall, but for Delacour, you're the only one."
"Hold on for a second, what are you trying to tell me? That I'm—" Hermione paused, her thoughts, going too fast, for her to even form a sentence. "Oh, bloody hell, you did not just—" She stopped again, upon realizing what Malfoy had just done. Hermione, herself couldn't believe it, that she had been slow on the uptake. She already knew, what she was getting into with Malfoy as her head of department, but for Draco to have spelled it out for her, was something she was having a hard time to swallow. "This was your bloody game all along? How dare you!"
Draco responded with another one of his classic smirk. "If that man ever taught me anything, he taught me how to read people accurately. Come to think, that's about the only ever useful skill he taught me. And believe me, Granger, I'm very good at it, exceptionally good even, once you apply certain magical principles. I did not get this position because of my family's connections and wealth, contrary to what those fools say about me. I do have what it takes to head a department such as this, so give me a little credit than that."
"Even so!" Hermione retorted back indignantly. "What if you were wrong? What would you have done then?"
"I'm never wrong," Draco answered, his voice taking in a softer tone.
"Like that is comforting, Malfoy. Either way, I really don't care, it still wouldn't change the fact, that I hate you even though you do have your redeeming points."
"And I hate you too, Granger even though you're no longer that buck-toothed, bushy haired but still insufferable know it all mudblood that I know." Draco replied back, even if he called Granger a mudblood, Hermione knew full well that he meant no malice in those words. It was something that they got over some time ago, and what they said to each other, was like a well rehearsed script, to signal that their little exchange was over, even though nothing was ever really talked about, except about agreeing to disagree with one another. "Now, get outta here, I still have your mess to clean up."
"Right," Hermione made her way towards the door, she had her hand on the doorknob when she stopped. She turned around to face Malfoy once again. "How much trouble are we going to be in with the Magical Law Enforcer's Office?"
"A lot, I think. There were eight casualties in all, I need not remind you, all of their memories, erased as if by magic. Couldn't be bothered to have at least replaced those lost memories with something, could you?"
"It wasn't me—" Hermione started, but then changed her mind. "Fine, so how am I being sanctioned for that?"
"You're not to go out on a run, for at least a month, or so I would like to say."
"A month? That's unreasonable, and just when I have a lead!"
"Deal with it. The Department's lucky if we could get away with just that kind of sanction, so don't push it."
"And what am I supposed to do, with all that time?"
"I suggest you go study and research, Granger, that's what we're being paid to do."
"As you wish," Hermione answered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She had just pulled open the door and was about to stepped out when she stopped in her tracks when Malfoy spoke again.
"Oh, by the way, I refused to accept your surrender, the game is still on, Granger, the ball's in your court now."
Hermione slammed the door shut with as much force as she can manage without breaking the glass partition on it, in response to what Malfoy had said. He'll always be a git! She thought angrily to herself. She stomped all the way back to her cubicle, like a child having a tantrum, to gather up some of the material she had previously compiled prior to their run from the night before, hoping to see, if there was something relevant in them.
"Research, right! He doesn't need to tell me! And what the hell was he playing at? Gambling with my life, with something like me being unaffected by Fleur's thrall?" Hermione muttered under her breath, still irritated at the meeting that transpired just minutes ago. "He could have been wrong! I could have been—" She stopped, refusing to finish the sentence, grasping the idea that if Malfoy was wrong, she could have been irrevocably enslaved by Fleur. "Damn it all to hell and back! Why do I have to be stuck with her?"
"Hermione?"
The younger witch froze at the sound of her name. She stopped midway in collecting her things, only to see that her neat cubicle looked like a tornado had just passed over. She was so engrossed in her angry mutterings, and imagining all the legal curses she could possibly inflict on Malfoy, that she did not notice it, not until her name was spoken. Merlin's beard, she thought, and then began counting one to ten silently in her head, hoping that the next breath she takes, that the veela thrall that was floating dangerously in the air would dissipate. For how long it was floating around, she has no idea, but from the odd looks the other two Unspeakables casting their way, who were in the offices with them, Hermione guessed it had been awhile.
"Fleur," Hermione answered breathlessly. She looked up and saw that once again, Fleur was looking at her with an unreadable expression on her face. "How long have you been standing there?"
"Not that long, I was waiting for you," Fleur indicated at her own cubicle which was located just adjacently to the right of Hermione's.
For a moment, Hermione could have swore that Fleur's eyes were darker than their usual color, but when she looked again, it was back to their normal blue. "Is it important? I have something really urgent to do, and I—well can we talk later?"
Hermione knew that Fleur wasn't buying her excuse, but it nevertheless surprised her when Fleur responded and with a smile at that. "Sure, we'll talk later."
"Alright then," Hermione hastily retreated, more like ran away, from one French witch who gave her the saddest smile that Hermione had ever seen on that beautiful face. Hermione hated to admit it, that it bothered her, that expression on Fleur's face and the feeling that somehow she was the cause of that. Merlin's beard, why is this happening to me?
A few minutes later, Hermione found herself in the circular room. But the feeling of being guilty about something never left her, of course it couldn't have been related to what she and Malfoy had been arguing about, or maybe it's what she said after the meeting. But that's impossible, she wasn't talking out loud, no sane person would be caught dead talking out loud to themselves, that is surely a one way ticket to an asylum, and being an Unspeakable, it was already enough for other wizards and witches to think that they were a bunch of loons.
She sighed, and walked towards the bright red orange mark on the door to her three o'clock position and pushed it open, and once again, she was staring at the passageway that leads to the offices of the Department of Mysteries. Not again, she berated herself. You know you're doing the spell wrong, that's why you keep on coming back here. I know that already! Then stop thinking about her, you can think about her later. Hermione let out a puff of air loudly, blowing away the strand of hair that kept falling over her face and at the same time closing the door once again. She walked back towards the center of the circular room and closed her eyes. As soon as doing so, she could hear the room spinning around at an incredible speed. She should be used to it by now, but then again, there are just some things that you never get used to, like this room for example. What kind of wizard would have thought of having a spinning circular room as a form of security measure? It was stupid, it could be easily broken, if it was meant to confuse unwanted visitors, it was certainly doing a poor job, it would only cause nausea and dizziness. And what's up with the garishly blue lighting of the whole room? Could no one really be bothered to brighten the room up? Of course, Hermione was well aware, that she was absolutely thinking about unnecessary things, but on second thought, it was a little bit helpful, for she now had a clear picture of which chamber she wanted to go to.
Sensing that the circular room had already come to a halt, Hermione opened her eyes and held her wand aloft. "Ostendo sum," she muttered, all the while holding on to the clear picture of the room she intended to go to, or rather escaped to. She watched the streak of bright red orange line, travel from her wand tip, towards the door of the chamber she needed to go to. The streak of light, settled on the door, at her seven o'clock, so she made her way towards it and opened the door.
It never ceases to take her breath away, after eight months in the Department, whenever she steps into this chamber, it still feels like the day when she had her first tour of the department. Well, of course at that time she still wasn't entirely sure about accepting the job offer, but this, this was what swayed her to finally accept, in hindsight, Hermione suspected that Draco knew she would have said yes, all he had to do was show her this chamber.
The door silently closed behind her. Hermione just stood there, letting the vastness of this place take her over. She was standing on the threshold of the largest library she had ever seen. If one looks up, it would seem that there was no end to the ceiling. It was like standing in a whole new universe, hundreds upon hundreds of towering bookshelves for as far as the eye can see, and they were all crammed with books, scrolls, tablets and tomes, in all written languages the world has known and never known, magical and none magical alike. If she were to describe it to anyone who had never set foot in this place, it would be like the Library of Alexandria, only more ancient and way grander than the former's glory. One could easily get lost here, that was for sure, but to Hermione she would never get lost, more like she would never want to leave this place ever, her only disappointment was that, one lifetime would never be enough for her to read all the books in here.
Hermione was home, and they the Unspeakables of the Department of Mysteries calls this chamber the Great Library.
xxxXXXxxx
Hermione blew a strand of hair away from her face. She had been sitting on this simple wooden stool, in this spot, somewhere in the depths of the Obscure Section of the Great Library for some time now. Looking around, about more than a dozen of books were strewn around her, no, not just books, there were tomes, scrolls and a couple of ancient looking tablets thrown in the mix as well, all seemingly untouched. She came here to do research, like she was told, no not told, more like ordered to, after she was summoned, that's right summoned like a lowly subject to his highness' chambers. She blew again on the strand of annoying hair which kept falling over her face and gave an involuntary sigh. It was unbecoming of her, she was like an old fashioned damsel, who keeps on sighing when something was troubling her. It wasn't like her at all. She's Hermione Granger, a woman of action, but lately all she seems to do is mess things up, although she would never concede to that fact out loud in front of Draco Malfoy, her head of Department, after all they do have quite a bit of history together.
In retrospect, she knew that another one of their arguments would ensue, the moment she came in. That part, was nothing at all, well, not nothing, but more like she was used to it. It feels like something of a routine now, after eight months of working in the Department of Mysteries with Malfoy as her head of department, which was totally unexpected. She would have expected Malfoy, to work in another department of the Ministry, where he can show off, well, that just goes to show, how little she knows of people. The meeting with Malfoy that ended in an argument once again early that morning was to be expected, normal even for her, but it was after the meeting, when she exited Malfoy's office, that had her running to this place. She wasn't running, she was hiding, actually no, she was avoiding someone. The atmosphere completely threw her off her guard, not that early in the morning, Fleur wouldn't have, at least unintentionally or so, not unless she had heard what Hermione had said in Malfoy's office or was it when she was on the verge of messing up her usually neat cubicle. It just couldn't be possible, right? Veelas doesn't possess uncanny hearing or something.
"Bloody hell," she muttered. It sounded like she was cursing herself. She stared intently at the parchment that was floating at her eye level and noted the one word she had written there. I give up, she finally admitted to herself. Her mind had turned into a complete blank with only a face and a name that had resided inside her head permanently. When had it started, she couldn't remember, it didn't happen all too suddenly, it happened gradually, with each day she keeps on spending with Fleur, it was unavoidable really, they were partners after all, somehow the French witch, unknowingly had settled somewhere in the depths of Hermione's thoughts, constantly thinking about Fleur to no end. Well maybe, because Fleur was the only person who saw through her lies, her facade, Hermione hated it and was grateful at the same time, and it scares the hell out of her. All her defenses, were dropping far too quickly whenever they were together, she doesn't need to say anything but Fleur always seems to understood her. Whatever her demons were, Fleur could easily take them away. Hermione knew that she was being selfish in regards to whatever form of friendship they have, maybe it was time for their roles to reverse, Fleur has her own share of demons and whatever they were, the older witch is much better in bottling it all up inside.
Hermione shifted her gaze away from the floating parchment and settled it on the empty aisle before her. In a way, or in Hermione's own way, she understood Fleur, but expressing it to the older witch is a lot harder than it was supposed to be, it wasn't like the friendship she, Harry and Ron has. Sure, there were those days that they quarrel among themselves, but given enough time, it always seems to mend itself, and the three of them would pick up where the left off, no discomfort of any kind. It was already proven time and time again. But with Fleur, it was different, and Hermione always seems to find herself, floating on uncharted waters. Fleur has a way of affecting her emotions directly, and it wasn't the way a veela would affect one's emotions, but it's the way she would feel affected when someone close to her is having a hard time. Having to feel recently about Fleur this way was driving Hermione up the wall. It was like a constant ache, and Hermione wasn't sure if she was helping or hurting. Fleur was a complete mystery to her, yet one Hermione understood the logic of, yeah right, if she were to give it a word, it would be contradictions. Hermione's feelings were full of contradictions when it comes to Fleur.
Hermione smiled involuntarily at herself. Fleur's eyes are gorgeous, the way the blue in them would change its shade according to what the older witch's emotions were. And what about that hair? That silky smooth silver blond hair, which always seems to flow even if there was no wind. Fleur is a perfect version of what every woman wants to be, physically that is. Except for one thing, Hermione corrected herself. Hermione had only seen it a few times and if she to had associate it with a feeling, it terrifies her. It's when Fleur's eyes would change into dark orbs a shade even deeper than black, her irises would be replaced with the irises of something like a vulture. But that feeling of terror, it wasn't fear for her own self, it was for Fleur. Hermione was terrified, that she couldn't bring back Fleur, to her normal self when she veela's out. So what if Malfoy was right? Or was he just messing with her head? Hermione wasn't entirely convinced that she was the only one, it's just not probable.
Hermione closed her eyes for a brief moment and then opened them. Is it possible to materialize a person out of thin air, if you think about them too much? She wondered and then kicked herself mentally. Of course not, no magic in the world could make that happen.
Hermione quickly averted her gaze from the woman who was slowly making her way towards her and quickly grab the nearest book by her feet. She opened the book halfway, not really noticing that the book's text was written in a language she had never seen before and acted like she had just found whatever it was she was looking for.
"I see you," Fleur said softly.
"I see you, too," Hermione answered automatically without even looking up.
"I didn't know you could read something like that." If Hermione felt uncomfortable that the woman was invading her personal space she did not show it, instead the younger witch lifted her head casually only to find that the older woman was leaning over her, peering at the book that Hermione had propped open just an instant ago on her lap.
Hermione answered with a rueful smile. "I'm not fooling you, am I?"
"No, you can always try though," Fleur answered while straightening up, she took out her wand, and made a quick flick with it. A wooden stool, very similar to what Hermione was sitting on conjured out of thin air. She then made another gesture, to move the books that were on Hermione's left side out of the way and placed her wooden stool on the clear area right beside the younger witch. Fleur then continued to sat down on it facing the brunette, a little too gracefully in Hermione's opinion.
"Well," Hermione began. "At first I thought, that what we're looking for, could probably be on the Magical Places of the World section, and then I thought about it, there is a rather high probability that we can narrow the search down in the Obscure Texts section, if only I can make sense of what it seems to be—"
"Hermione," Fleur interrupted, the older witch knew that if Hermione wanted to avoid a subject, the younger witch tends to run her mouth.
"At least, I'm trying though," Hermione murmured.
"Monsieur Malfoy is clearly avoiding me as well, do you know why? I have been wanting to talk to him since after your meeting."
"'Avoiding you as well,'" Hermione repeated. "Why would anyone be avoiding you?"
"You can at least make an effort of trying hard enough," Fleur answered with an eyebrow raised.
"Sorry," Hermione shifted slightly in her sit so that she was now facing Fleur directly. Once again, that unreadable expression was clear on Fleur's profile, it was becoming more and more familiar to her by now. "I haven't been avoiding you, it's—I don't know, I'm really sorry if it seems that way to you."
"You know, you can't lie to me either."
"Honestly, I find that veela sense of yours annoying at times."
"Do you hate it? My, as how you say it, veela senses?"
"No, not really but at this very minute I do. I'm sorry," Hermione finally said.
"Why are you apologizing again, ma belle? You seem to be apologizing to me a lot, you know you've done nothing wrong."
"I'm not entirely sure about that either, can I take a wild guess, about why you wanted to talk with Draco?" Fleur just shrugged in response. "I don't know how it could have been possible, but you heard what I said."
"Hermione, do you really hate working with me that much? Please, answer me truthfully, I would lose it if you even attempt to lie."
"No, I don't. Actually I do like working with you, but its just that sometimes, well how do I say it— I was really mad when I said what I said."
"You're not just mad, I have my veela senses, what is it?"
"Ah, it's nothing really, just a feeling I have had for a long time now. You said, I can't lie to you. If you really have to know, it's that— Merlin, I'm going to sound stupid." Hermione paused, she studied Fleur briefly, hoping that the older witch would say something, anything to stop Hermione from making a fool of herself, but Fleur remained silent, waiting for what Hermione was about to say. Hermione gave a long sigh, before continuing. "It's that you keep going out of control a lot this past few weeks, and I—I'm scared, Fleur." Hermione finished while looking away.
"Hermione, I would never do anything to make you afraid of me, you know that I—" Fleur replied, taking Hermione's hand and placing a finger under the brunette's chin, so that she could look into Hermione's deep chocolate brown eyes.
"No, you're misunderstanding me," Oh hell, Hermione thought when she spotted the rim of Fleur's blue eyes dissipating quickly into black. Hermione gulped, but knew full well that she couldn't stop the flow of her words. "I'm not scared of you, I'm scared for you, I'm terrified that I wouldn't be able to see you, the Fleur I know, I'm terrified that I would lose you to the other you, and that you wouldn't hear me or see me anymore. I don't want that to happen." Please change back, she added silently.
"Hermione, that would never happen, and you don't know how happy I am to hear you say that." Fleur said dropping her hand from Hermione's chin.
"Then why do you hate yourself whenever you veela out?"
"'Veela out,' that's a funny term to use."
"It's the only way I can describe you whenever you lose it."
"I hate it, because I do not want to hurt you."
"Hurt me? How could you even possibly do that, it's the other way around from my point of view. Besides, I can protect myself very well."
"Yes, you can. But there are some things that you cannot protect yourself from. Things that you do not even see it happening but is affecting you directly. How can you protect yourself from that?"
"Now that is a very odd thing to say." Hermione said a smile forming on her face and also relieved to see Fleur's eyes were all blue again.
"I have something for you," Fleur said taking her hand away from Hermione's. "Here," she said handing Hermione what appeared to be a very old and tattered book.
"What is it?"
"Last night, you said that you keep on, how did you say it, triggering my veela instincts. I think this will help."
Hermione glanced at the book that Fleur had just given her and felt her face heat up suddenly, when she read the title of the small book, that Fleur was holding, Veela: A Dating Guide.
"A Dating Guide?" Hermione asked skeptically. "You think this will help? I am not dating you!" Hermione said almost mortified at the idea.
Fleur just laughed her beautiful laugh, like the sound of tinkling wind chimes.
"Non, you misinterpret mademoiselle."
Hermione raised her eyebrows in question.
"Just read it, it will be how do you say it, very informative."
"Okay," Hermione said doubt still in her face.
Fleur was still laughing, when Hermione jumped up suddenly. "Oh! I'm going to be late. I promised Harry and Ron to meet them for lunch. Do you want to join us?"
"Non, I told Bill that I will join him for his supper and for my lunch."
"Okay, see you when I get back?"
"Oui."
And with that, Hermione sped towards the door back to the circular room book still in hand.
xxxXXXxxx
"How did you find this place? It's a bit out of the way, but the meat pie is absolutely to die for." Hermione said after eating the last bite of her lunch, strangely she had her appetite back after weeks of being unable to eat well, like she had stomach flu or something. She reached out for her glass of iced tea and proceeded to take a sip from it.
"Well, me and Ron, we were just coming back from our last job, remember the bloke, who mistook, that a muggle woman's skirt was a cloak?"
"Yes, I do remember that," Hermione answered a wide grin spreading on her face. She remembered laughing so hard that time, when Ron and Harry told her the story about it.
"Right, we got hungry, and this was the only place open that time, we can't go apparating all the way back to London on an empty stomach," Ron finished. He had just started on his seventh order of the meat pie. "It looks suspicious from the outside, a bit rundown, but the pie makes up for it, and not a lot of people as you can see."
"So I've noticed, that's why I've been wondering when the two of you will start asking me for help."
"Ask for help?" Ron asked, but the look of innocence on his face didn't fool Hermione. "Hermione, the Auror's Headquarters has an extensive network for information, we can do our research without going to the library."
"Really now, but some things will never change, eh Ronniekins?" Hermione said teasing Ron and smirking at the old nickname.
"Hermione really is brilliant, right mate? Nothing gets past her."
"Stop patronizing me Ronald, just spit it out and tell me already."
Harry shifted uncomfortably on his sit. "What have you heard about Brazil?" he asked lowering his voice as if he's confiding in Hermione a rather intimate secret.
"Brazil?" A look of confusion, evident on Hermione's face. "Has Malfoy made an official request with the Aurors?"
"Malfoy? Why would he be requesting our support?" Harry answered back, it was now the two men who looked confused by Hermione's question.
"Coincidence?" Hermione murmured to herself.
"What was that?" Ron asked, missing what Hermione had just said.
"She said coincidence, Ron, keep up mate will you? I don't know about coincidences but there's stuff going on there. The Ministry has already received a summons for help from the Brazilian Ministry of Magic."
"A summons for help?" Hermione asked, she took another sip of her iced tea, "I don't know much about the current events of the magical community of Brazil, but it's something dark if the Aurors are involved."
"It is, but we're not going over there to fight, it's mainly to provide support and bodyguard duties. They're just taking extra precautions, I reckon."
"Precautions from what?"
"Well something is stirring, from the little I know, it's still on a need to know basis, that's why, we're asking for help."
"We?" Ron interjected after swallowing his food. "Not 'we' mate, just you, I have no interest in this. If Kingsley wants me there, I'll go, but until then, it has nothing to do with us."
"Harry James Potter," Hermione said, an eyebrow raise, and with a tone of voice, one would usually use, on a child who has been caught doing he wasn't suppose to, "Are you sticking your nose in again where it doesn't belong?"
"Of course not, we're—" Harry stopped when Ron elbowed him, "Fine then, I'm just curious that's all, and 'Mione, you mentioned something about a coincidence."
"It's nothing, but you got me, fine, I'll help, so much for that extensive information network of yours, Ronald."
"What'd I do? I'm peacefully enjoying my lunch here, until you two dragged me into your conversation, which I don't want any part of mate, no offense by the way."
"None taken," Harry answered casually.
"With that said, while the two of you were talking about Brazil, I've been wondering about that." And before Hermione could grabbed it, Ron's quick actions beat her to it. "I can't believe that you took out a book from the mythical library of your department."
"Give that back Ronald," Hermione answered lunging for the book which Ron kept well out of her reach, "and the library is not mythical, it's real and that book is not from the Great Library."
"Don't be stingy, 'Mione, we just want to know what you Unspeakables are so secretive about."
"Oh please, we're not secretive, everybody knows that all we do is study and research, your words by the way Ronald." She made another attempt to get her book back, but with no success.
"No," Ron laughed, "besides, mate I know your curious as much as I am."
Torn between his two best friends, Harry finally gave Hermione an apologetic look, clearly his curiosity winning out. "Well, a little. Sorry 'Mione."
She sat there fuming at her two best friends. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, who even now has still has his unkempt jet black hair but only longer hiding the lightning shape scar on his forehead that Hermione knew was there even if she could not see it. His brilliant green eyes darting quickly from her to Ron.
"Just so you know, it isn't work," she said unable to keep the blush coming. She settled down in her chair knowing fully well that they would still be on guard if she made another lunge for the book now that Harry had joined sides with Ron.
"Veela: A Dating Guide?" Harry asked amused, reading over Ron's shoulder.
"Like I said, it's not from the Library so there, you've seen it, now give it back."
Ron choked back his food and was now staring at Hermione. His red hair bright against the midday light. A halfway between an amused and dirty expression on his freckly face. "Blimey!"
"It's not what you think!"
"Really?" Ron answered the dirty expression still on his face and then turned his attention back to the book and began leafing through it, he turned the book about a hundred eighty degree, when something caught his attention. "Oi, mate you gotta look at this," he gestured towards Harry and then held up the book so that they both could see it.
Hermione all the while her face red was burning with embarrassment, and it doesn't help matters at all, that her two best friends keeps on giving her furtive glances.
"Oh c'mon 'Mione, you know we wouldn't think less of you if you are in fact dating Fleur, right mate?" Harry said. "On second thought, well maybe except for Gin and Mrs. Weasely."
"I think it's hot," Ron answered distractedly.
"I only have two things to say, one, wipe that perverted look from your face Ron, its disgusting, and Harry what in Merlin's name are you looking at over Ron's shoulder?"
"It's not just for men, they have positions for both women too. Have you read this book already 'Mione?" Harry said. "Can I borrow it?"
"No! And two," Hermione continued, choosing to ignore Harry's question, "I'm not dating Fleur, she lent me that book to improve our working relationship."
"When you say working relationship?" Ron edged on.
"Like I said, we're not dating, so whatever insinuations you have on mind Ron, you're dead wrong, and it's none of your business anyway." She finished, making another attempt to get the book back and finally succeeded, but Hermione was still very red on the face though. "Now if you'll excuse me." She stood up noisily ignoring the looks of the patrons who eyed their whole exchange all this time.
"Our 'Mione's being unusually daft isn't she?" Ron said.
"Right you are mate, usually she notices stuff about other people, but when it comes to herself, she's absolutely helpless."
Hermione just rolled her eyes at her two best friends. "Well regardless, I'm going ahead." And with that, Hermione made her way outside the pub and left her two best friends still snickering at her. They will always be boys, with that thought in mind she finally arrived at the decrepit barn just a hundred yards from the pub where they had their lunch, which the three of them used to apparate here, and disapparated back to London.