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.
anon – thanks for pointing out the tenses, much appreciated, I'll try to re edit the whole thing (^_^), but I guess I really do need to look for a beta just to have a second opinion (any takers? ^_^), my punctuations are bad enough as it is.. T_T
Err, it's a really long chapter, to make up for the previous chapter I guess, no, I wasn't really planning for this chapter to be this long, the longest one I think, hopefully you guys read it all the way through and still like it. (^_^)
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.
Six
If Hermione had the premonition last night, no it was actually in the wee hours of the morning when it happened, that she was starting to have a bad week, well, she couldn't have been more wrong. Hermione was starting to have a terrible week. Hermione was already in a sour mood when she came in that morning, because of the fact, that she wasn't sleeping normally due to that accursed nightmare she was having every night now, and add to that with what happened earlier, the one wherein she made her unexpected outburst, Hermione should've been awarded for coming in to work at all. Of course, it doesn't always happen that way, what does anyway? So, Hermione started with a meeting with Malfoy, updating him with the progress she and Fleur had made so far, which of course ended in an almost screaming match as usual, very unprofessional really, if Hermione hadn't taken a hold of herself that time. It wasn't Malfoy to blame actually, the man was being unusually considerate, maybe its because of how she looked, but something about Malfoy, was just rubbing her the wrong way and it was annoying her so much that it was all she could do to not jinx the man right on the spot. And if that wasn't enough, Fleur was everywhere in the Department; in the corridors, in the offices, in the Library, in the Hall of Prophecy, even in the Death Chamber where Hermione accidentally took a wrong turn after leaving Malfoy's office in a flurry of robes. How hard is it to ask, to be left alone, even for just an hour?
Hermione knew that it was wrong of her, no, not wrong but extremely rude to blatantly avoid Fleur like that, her parents certainly raised her to do better, but Hermione just couldn't help it. She knew she had to apologize, it was the right thing to do, brave even, but the words just seem to get caught in her throat, besides why should she even apologize, she did nothing wrong, or did she? What was so wrong with her that Fleur had to spell it out for her that Fleur cannot love her? No, that's not it, her rational thinking said suddenly. Nothing is wrong with you and you know it. In fact the way Fleur sees you, is nothing short of perfect. How can that be? If so, then why is she feeling this way, like she had grown a pair of extra limbs? Hermione let out a disgusted sigh. You know why, all you have to do is to accept and admit it, then say it to make it more real than it already is.
"Say what exactly?" Hermione muttered angrily, as she pushed open the door back to the circular room. Hermione was on her way back to the Library after taking a few materials she needed from her cubicle, to resume her search for Beedle's missing pages. It was like looking for a needle in haystack mind you, and it wasn't helping her mood at all. Hermione automatically closed her eyes, as she reached the middle of the room, her mind resuming her train of thoughts, as the room started spinning around her.
Yes, Hermione already figured out that what Fleur seeks is not an answer but a wish. She did promise Fleur three summers ago, that she would help the older woman and she would. But the question is how to begin helping Fleur? Hermione also figured out, that Fleur desperately needed to save somebody, and that Hermione couldn't help but feel that she was the person that Fleur wanted to save. That's completely mental, why would I need saving? I'm not in danger or— unless.. unless.. bloody hell.. Hermione could feel the frown forming on her face. Hermione quickly recalled the bits and pieces of that summer, what was it that Fleur said about a veela's love? A veela cannot love her mate, because they kill the person they love.
It was at that moment, that Hermione almost stopped breathing because of the adrenalin that shot through her body. Hermione had to steel herself in order to stop herself from collapsing right on the spot. Hermione opened her eyes, grateful that the circular room had stopped spinning when she did, as she fought hard to control her breathing, but it was useless, Hermione was already hyperventilating. Hermione broke out in a cold sweat, it was an unpleasant feeling, to feel the walls of the circular room closing in on her, she was feeling trapped and it didn't help that the Department of Mysteries was located far below underground. Oh, Merlin, her frantic thoughts raced. Fleur cannot love me because... "I'm her Mate," Hermione gasped out. I need to get out, I can't breathe.
Hermione's ears were ringing as oxygen was steadily being depleted from her overworked brain. She was feeling faint and was almost doubled over, when she spotted the bright red orange mark on the door at her nine o'clock side. Hermione's knees were shaking, making her stagger as she burst through the marked door. It took, Hermione a couple of seconds to recognized where she was, and was thankful that her wandless and wordless magic worked. Hermione stumbled, half sprinting, half walking along the dimly lit corridor towards the golden lifts which were located at the end. How Hermione had managed to ride the agonizingly slow lift up to the Atrium, she didn't know. The need to get out, to get some open air, was tantamount to her being, that when she half fell out of the lifts, she didn't noticed the curious looks that some of the Ministry workers who were loitering in the Atrium cast her way. Hermione didn't even acknowledged the familiar voice who called her, as she raced her way to the apparation spot which seemed like a thousand miles away. As soon as Hermione's feet landed on the spot, she turned on her heel, dimly aware that a hand touched her shoulder as she vanished and reappeared on top of a hill.
Cold and wet, those were her first sensations when she arrived. Hermione took a deep breath, and as soon as she did so, she finally doubled over, and threw up the remnants of what little breakfast she happened to have had. Hermione was still heaving her stomach out, when she felt a hand stroking her back, and another reaching over to hold up her hair for her.
"There, there," a soothing and familiar voice said all the while still caressing her back up and down.
Hermione was still bent over, as another wave of gagging course through her, if throwing up her breakfast wasn't enough, she also had to throw up the bile that was in her stomach. As soon as she had emptied her stomach, Hermione straightened up slowly, her breathing coming out in short and ragged rhythms.
"Hermione," the voice said, it was laced with worry.
Hermione tried to speak and found that she was having difficulty, until she felt strong arms wrapped around her, pressing her back to the voice's chest.
"Hey, hey, relax, breathe slowly, breathe with me."
Hermione closed her eyes, concentrating on the rising and falling of the chest that was pressing her back, slow and steady, the gentle rain steadily pelting down on their heads. "That— was— dange— rous—" Hermione gasped out in between breaths, finally recognizing who the voice belonged to. "You could've— splinched yourself—" she added, her breathing painstakingly and slowly returning to normal.
"I know, remind me to never go on a side-along apparation with you," Harry answered a faint smile on his face. "You feeling better?"
"No, just— just—," Hermione stammered.
"You know, Ginny would raise a fuss if she found us like this."
"There is nothing— remotely— romantic about this," Hermione murmured.
"Yeah, well, considering the vomit pooled at our feet, very romantic indeed." Harry answered, Hermione could feel her best friend's chest rumbling as he chuckled. "Where are we anyway?"
"Stoatshead Hill."
"I thought, it looked familiar," Harry said looking around, his worry starting to fade away, as he could feel Hermione's breathing return to normal. He waited a few more minutes, then asked, "Better?"
"Yeah," Hermione nodded, moving away from Harry, while carefully avoiding stepping on her vomit.
"Now, why don't we go down to the village, yeah? You can buy me a bottle of warm butterbeer," he said while holding out his hand.
Hermione grimaced as she took hold of Harry's hand, and as soon as she did, she felt herself being squeezed, in what feels like through a tube of toothpaste.
xxxXXXxxx
If Hermione and Harry had lingered a second more longer, they would have eventually been caught in the downpour. They were in one of the establishments, located near the end of the village of Ottery St. Catchpole, an establishment which most of the muggle inhabitants of the village avoided because of its ill repute, when in actuality, it is a small family oriented pub for wizards and wicthes. It has a warm and cozy feel to it, albeit a little rustic for Hermione's tastes. But she has to admit, they serve a delicious treacle tart, which was Harry's favorite kind of dessert.
"Find us a seat, will you?"
"I thought I was buying," Hermione said, while running her fingers through her brown tresses.
"Nah, I was just kidding," Harry said smiling as he weaved his way towards the counter.
Hermione spotted an open seat by the window and made her way towards it, stopping to smile and greet at the few wizards and witches who waved at her, she is famous after all. Hermione sat down heavily, after finally excusing herself from an old wizard who began talking about his grandchildren. Hermione stared out the window, the rain coming down in torrents, limiting her vision to only about two feet. She tore her gaze away, only to place her face on her hands, all the while thinking, I'm Fleur's Mate, I'm Fleur's Mate, I'm Fleur's Mate, maybe if she say it over and over again in her head, it would probably go away and then she'd wake up from this dream that she was having. If it were only that easy, Why am I so afraid? Hermione wondered suddenly, Oh yeah, maybe its because of that little bit, that you'd die if you even give Fleur half a chance.
"'Mione?" Harry asked, interrupting her train of thoughts.
Hermione looked up, Harry had already seated himself opposite her, looking at her with worry on his face again. When Hermione didn't say anything, he took a long swagger of his butterbeer, waiting for Hermione to say something, anything. Harry always had the sense to hold his tongue, unless there's a need to, so he waited until Hermione had composed her own thoughts. She reached for the warm bottle of butterbeer and stared at her distorted reflection on the amber colored bottle. "How badly do I look?" she asked, still staring at the bottle, talking to her own reflection.
"Hmm, not so bad, still the same pale look that you've been sporting this past couple of weeks, which I must say doesn't agree with you."
"Oh," Hermione murmured, taking a tentative sip of her butterbeer, her stomach still doing somersaults after her retching episode.
"So," Harry began. "Are you going to tell me, or do I have to use my interrogation techniques to get you to talk."
"You would resort to that?" Hermione said looking up, fixing Harry with her curious stare, figuring Harry probably half meant it if she didn't spill her guts out, figuratively speaking of course.
"I would if I have to," Harry answered seriously.
"Where do I begin?" Hermione wondered. She shifted her gaze back to the window, her thoughts going back to that jarring realization she had earlier. Hermione felt lost and she hated it, one of the things that she prided herself in was being sure about almost all things, she was never wrong mind you. But this thing with Fleur, how does she even begin to deal. Well, she had dealt with it before, because she had always accounted herself to have a strong rational mind, which couldn't be swayed easily, and partnered that with her stubbornness, plus a little bit of luck, was how she wasn't affected by Fleur's veela thrall, right? But after her realization, it throws everything into question, so going back, where does Hermione begin? How would she explain to Harry the things that were happening to her, without divulging the confidentiality of her work, thinking about it now, what she does for the Department is too closely related to whatever thing that she and Fleur has. I'm the reason why Fleur left a thriving career in Gringotts.
"It's easy," Harry answered, pulling Hermione back to their conversation, a mischievous grin forming on his face. "You start with saying, I'm in love with Fleur Delacour and I'm carrying her child."
Hermione's jaw dropped at Harry's banter and before she could say something as damaging back, Harry began guffawing so hard that he was snorting out the drink he had just had, causing the wizards and witches in the pub to give them a mixture of amused and affronted looks.
"Hahaha," Hermione said, sarcasm dripping from her tones, "very funny, Potter."
"Sorry, 'Mione, I couldn't resist not saying it, well maybe not that bit about being pregnant, that was too much, but you should have seen the look on your face," Harry's laughing now reduced to chuckling. "I could just see it you know, little runts with silver blond hair and deep brown eyes or brunettes with blue eyes, with names like, Dominique or Victoire, very French-ish I would imagine."
"Harry James Potter," Hermione said, a warning on every syllable when she said her best friend's name. "Even if that were true, it's biologically impossible for two women to conceive children. I can only imagine what perverted thoughts, swam in that scarred head of yours, honestly, do you have to act like Ron now?"
"Hey, hey, don't insult the scar," he said, raising a hand in surrender while patting the other over his bangs, making sure that his lightning shaped scar was still hidden. "It just made me wonder, I mean, what's up with you, when we were up the hill, it certainly seemed like morning sickness to me."
Hermione's jaw dropped again, it was the second time that Harry had made her done so within the hour, but this time she recovered quickly. "It's not, I had an anxiety attack," she whispered.
"Wai— what?" Harry answered. His face turning serious again, when he noted the despaired and drawn out look on his best friend's face, something he wasn't accustomed to, sure Hermione worried a lot, but never like this.
"I panicked, alright," Hermione snapped.
"I get that, but why?"
"Oh, Harry, it's truly confusing me," Hermione said, throwing up her hands in frustration. "It would just confuse you too, so just leave it alone, okay?"
"Try me," he said. "I'm not as daft as Ron you know, to Ron it could be just that he enjoyed mercilessly teasing you about Fleur because he thinks that you like Fleur, but to me, that's not it, you love her, 'Mione, and don't tell me otherwise, I know you well enough, to know that what I'm saying is true."
Hermione leaned back on her chair and crossed her arms before her, she looked like a little girl who was about to have a tantrum because she was not getting a toy that she wanted. "I hate it when you get all perceptive like that," she muttered.
"You only hate it, when it's being thrown your way," Harry corrected.
Hermione let out a defeated sigh, she knew that Harry was not going to let her off that easy, and besides, it's high time, she talks to one of her best friends about it, and Harry's the best choice, between him, Ron and Ginny. "Do you truly think I'm in love with Fleur?"
Harry regarded Hermione carefully, and then said, "Yes, took you long enough to admit it though. Honestly, 'Mione, you do give good advice, but when it comes to you, you actually don't see it even when it comes dancing in front you, like Buckbeak wearing a neon pink tutu, complete with laces and frills."
Hermione smiled at the image that involuntarily popped in her head.
"And Fleur clearly loves you too," Harry added. "The first time that I saw Fleur act that fiercely around someone she cares about, was at the second task during the Triwizard Tournament, you know when she failed to save Gabby. She definitely acts that way around you all the time, you should have seen her after you fell unconscious."
Hermione frowned, she was starting to have that strange sense of foreboding again, the one that she's had, for as long as she can remember. "When was that?"
"The drinking party George hosted."
"Yeah," Hermione answered slowly, how can she forget, it was the first night she had that terrible nightmare. "But I don't remember falling unconscious."
"It was after you asked Fleur to dance with you, don't you remember?"
"I don't dance if I can help it, much less asked someone to dance with me, you know that, Harry."
"Nuh-uh, you were amazing, I never even knew you could move that way," Harry said, drifting off suddenly, recalling the events of that night.
"Harry," Hermione said, but her best friend ignored her. "Harry!" She said a little louder without attracting too much attention, but still Harry kept on ignoring her, a glaze look on his brilliant green eyes. "Honestly," Hermione muttered completely annoyed, so she pointed her wand on Harry's arm and produced a little zap of magical current, making Harry jumped on his seat.
"Ow!" He exclaimed, "what'd you do that for?" He said, while rubbing the red welt on his arm, where Hermione zapped him.
"Could you not be affected by Fleur's veela thrall, by just recalling an event, please it's annoying," she said, irritated with her best friend.
"What? Sorry, I'm not usually affected, but there are days that it catches me off guard," he muttered darkly.
"What days?" Hermione was almost too afraid to ask.
"I can't remember the exact days, but the one I can strongly recall, was that time, when Dobby apparated us to Shell Cottage."
"Oh that time," Hermione said softly to herself. If she recalls that time too, the only time the veela thrall dissipated in the air was when she made that crazy promise to Fleur that she wouldn't get herself unnecessarily hurt. Hermione shifted on her seat uncomfortably, "Harry, you said that Fleur loves me too." It wasn't really a question, and Harry could hear the strained notes when Hermione said that.
"Yes, because it's true."
Hermione's frown deepened when Harry acknowledged her statement. "That's the problem, Harry, it's because Fleur feels the same way about me."
"I don't understand, shouldn't you be feeling the opposite? I mean usually, you'd be jumping up and down with joy when the person you love, loves you back. I'm fine with you being gay, I think Ron will too, I'm not sure about Ginny though, if that's what's bothering you."
"I— I— to be honest, I've never even thought of that."
"Eh?"
"Yes, because it's nothing compared to with what I'm facing right now. And now that you mentioned it, I might as well throw it into this truly mess up situation that I find myself in." Then, Hermione began muttering to herself, which Harry could only make out when Hermione's volume increases, broken sentences with words like, "—unbelievable!" or "It's hopeless—" then, "Why me?" Hermione only stopped when she saw Harry's perplexed expression, he had a face in which he was trying to decide whether to laugh or to haul Hermione into a mental hospital, "What?" she snapped again.
"You're becoming more and more like an Unspeakable every time I see you," was all Hermione got in response.
"I am an Unspeakable, Harry," she muttered again.
"Yeah, but never fully, until you begin talking to yourself. Remember those blokes we escorted to Transylvania back when we were still Aurors-in-Training? We thought they were talking to each other, until Ron pointed out, that they were speaking to themselves."
"Oh," Hermione said leaning forward, cradling her face in her hands once more. "You think I'm a loon then."
"No, of course not," Harry said reaching forward and hooking a finger under Hermione's chin causing Hermione to raise her head. She stared at Harry's brilliant green eyes, there was comfort there, making Hermione sense that whatever she was about to tell Harry, that there will be no judgement or whatsoever.
"Alright," she began, she took a deep breath and sat back. "I think, I might be dying or something like that." Harry raised his eyebrows at this, in which Hermione took as a sign to go on. "You did say that you are affected by Fleur's veela thrall, right?" Harry nodded at this. "Well, I am too, just that I'm being affected differently than every one else." So, Hermione began telling Harry, as best as she could all that had happened, beginning from the time she started working with Fleur at the Department of Mysteries. She began explaining, what happens to her every time Fleur loses control and begins to veela out.
"You feel faint?" Harry interrupted.
Hermione nodded, "The thing is, I have never been sick my entire life, until now. Perhaps, the common cold, but nothing serious, wizards and witches, has a much stronger constitution than the average muggle, you know this."
"Errr, yeah. And then?"
Hermione continued to describe the signs whenever she has an episode, headaches, nausea and unbelievable weakness. She described it like, something a dementor's kiss would do, sapping out her life force, but different, because her soul rather than leaving her body, sings to her like it is the best thing that could have ever happened. "Which is sick by the way," Hermione added. She went on to tell about the night in the alley, which ended in Fleur almost assaulting her if she hadn't calmed herself down or else she would have gave in, Hermione noted Harry's red face as she described to him, what had happened when Fleur pushed her to the ground. "Harry, have you ever seen Fleur whenever she begins to veela out?"
The scarred young man shrugged his shoulders. "It's in the air, isn't it? I mean, it's always too late to notice, because I would be under the spell already, I'd only realize it, that I was under the spell after the thrall has disappeared." Harry ended, there was that familiar expression on his face, the one that he puts on whenever he was working something out and putting two and two together. "But you can tell, can you?"
"In excruciating detail," Hermione answered. "It starts with a shift in the air, barely noticeable, like how a barometer would shift whenever there is a change in the air currents." It was when Hermione realized after saying that, that she knew Fleur would begin to veela out, even before the older woman could. Hermione went on, describing the change of color in Fleur's eyes and that scent. Hermione never told anyone what she smells until now, whenever she sense Fleur's change, it was the smell of everything she loves, the scent of old books, her mum's baked brownies, vanilla ice cream, mint, the smell of ink drying on parchment until it would all turn into a sickeningly sweet smell, making her suffocate until she'd get all annoyed and irritated and then she'd see clearly again, forcing her back into the present and it'll all happen in just a few seconds or a couple of minutes tops.
"Interesting," Harry murmured. "So it's the scent?" Hermione shrugged in response. "That's probably it, because now that you've described yours, whenever Fleur veela outs, as how you say it, I could distinctly smell Ginny's shampoo on her hair after she takes a shower, or chocolate frogs and treacle tart, sometimes the smell of the air that comes rushing past me, whenever I take a dive on my broomstick racing after the Snitch, but I don't get that sickeningly sweet smell, quite the opposite actually." Harry's face darkened as he remembered something, "Oh and blood and Voldemort, and Sirius' and Cedric's death, during that time in Shell Cottage."
"Shell Cottage again, huh?" Hermione asked thoughtfully. A moment of solemnity pass between them, honouring the dead. And then, "Voldemort has a smell?" Hermione asked barely keeping the incredulity out of her tone, she was trying hard not to giggle, "You took a sniff at him, really Harry? When?" Hermione added, finally bursting out in a fit of giggles, paying back Harry for his pregnancy comment earlier on.
"Really funny, 'Mione, at least I'm not the one who has contracted the veela disease."
That shut Hermione up, "Veela disease?"
"Yeah, let's call it that for now, the symptoms you're experiencing," he said, steering their conversation back. "There's more to it, right? I mean it doesn't happen to just anyone who meets a veela, because if it does, we'd have heard it before."
"You're right, it doesn't happen to just anyone. It only happens to a veela's chosen mate."
"You mean you're—"
"I don't know what I am, alright?"
"You don't or you know, but you just don't want it?"
"Even if I do, why would Fleur choose me? What would she ever see in me? I'm not anything special, I'm just— I'm just me," Hermione finished quietly.
"Exactly, it's because you're you that's why she chose you and you remain you when she veela outs. How many can you name who remains themselves in the presence of a veela, I mean Fleur's presence except for her family?"
"Do you know that Fleur hates it when she loses her control?" Hermione answered ignoring Harry's question, because the answer was too obvious, she can't name anyone else. Malfoy could've been right when he said that there were others out there for all they know, but to Fleur, there was only Hermione.
"And there you go, another reason why she chose you, it's because you can see her."
"But how could she have known, Harry? She barely knew me, the first time we saw each other."
"Maybe she didn't, maybe it was the veela in her that knew you, even I know that veelas are highly sensitive to emotions, I remember how they were like during that Quidditch World Cup."
"You're making it sound like there are two beings living in Fleur's body, because if that were the case—" Hermione trailed off, a horrible thought forming in her head. Oh Merlin, is this what Fleur would wish for? To kill the veela in her, so that she can free me, so that I wouldn't have to bear the veela's curse, but that's— that's—
"Earth to 'Mione!" Harry said, interrupting her thoughts once again, he was waving his hand in front of her, trying to catch her attention, which he successfully did.
"Sorry, it's that—"
"'S okay, so the question is," Harry paused, taking a drink again from his bottle of butterbeer, "what are you going to do about it?"
"I really don't know, and what I've told you, its only just the half of it."
"Oh, tell me then, 'Mione," Harry urged.
"I'm not sleeping well, Harry."
"Another symptom of the veela disease? Insomnia?"
"No, I don't think so, ever since that Memorial, three summers ago, I haven't been sleeping well," Hermione stopped when he saw the concerned look on Harry's face, "it wasn't that bad then, but it's worse now. I used to have dreams of falling, but that's normal, I'm sure you've had your share too," she stopped again when she saw Harry nod, "but now, it's become a nightmare, I know it is, because every time I go to bed, I'm dreading to fall asleep."
"I've had my own nightmares too, but that's the thing 'Mione, its just dreams, they won't get you when you wake up."
"You're one to talk, sometimes nightmares aren't just nightmares, they could be real too." Hermione saw Harry involuntarily touched his scar, that was how she knew that Harry agreed to the point she was making. "I fear that if I fall, I won't wake up."
"But you're good at Occlumency, which I'm not, so—"
"That's the thing, even if I practice Occlumency, before I go to sleep, it doesn't work, besides Occlumency is a skill to prevent other wizards to enter your unguarded thoughts."
"Right, so what happens in this dream?"
That's when Hermione began describing to Harry, how her dreams began with her fall. How this bird-like creature, would taunt her to fly, until she would grow her own hideous set of wings and as soon as doing so, this creature would claw at her forcing her to fall fast and in her other dreams, as soon as she would regain balance using her wings, the creature would come at her with so much ferocity than before and each time before she wakes, the ground was coming closer and closer than ever, she was nearing the end of her fall. "I reckon, two or three more nightmares of those, I would eventually crashed, and I really don't want to find out what happens after I fall. It feels so bloody real, that I always wake up gasping for breath, my mouth open in a soundless scream."
"Aside from the veela disease, you're also having veela dreams."
"Veela dreams?"
"Yeah, do you know of any other woman who turns herself into a bird, when she feels extreme emotions?" Hermione shook her head, "So, that's why we're calling your nightmares veela dreams for now," Harry paused, he turned his head to look out the window, the rain had already let up a little, but it was still falling heavily for anyone with half a mind to go out into. He studied his best friend's face, who had followed where he was staring at moments ago, and noticed if it were even possible, the brunette had gone a shade paler after describing her nightmare. His concern deepening, it's true, he may not understand the whole thing really, but from his point of view, it was glaringly clear why Fleur could have chosen Hermione. His best friend, had indeed grown out of her bookish and geeky look, even Malfoy noticed that, but the one thing that remained was that Hermione was still as brilliant as ever. It's no wonder, why Fleur could have been drawn to Hermione. "Do you think you would turn into a veela? Maybe it's what your veela dreams are trying to tell you."
"Even if that were the case, it's impossible, you just don't turn into a veela and veelas aren't born either, their created. Besides, I wouldn't want to turn into one even if that is the only solution offered."
"Did you just say 'created'?"
"Yes, Fleur told me, I can't explain it really, sorry." Hermione turned to face Harry, he had this pondering look on him. "So, Mr. Try Me Because I'm Not Daft Like Ron," Harry smiled at that, "what do I do?"
"You still don't know?"
"If I did, I wouldn't be here."
He sighed, it was amazing how stubborn Hermione can be. Harry already had the suspicion that his best friend already knew and that she had already decided on what to do but only that she was afraid to do it. That is so un-Gryffindor like, then again Gryffindors are allowed to get scared once in awhile, so he decided it was up to him to make Hermione see some sense. "Kiss her," was all he said.
"Are you insane?"
"No, listen, 'Mione," he began, "it may sound insane right now, but that's how you will know. Which goes to my other point, you already know what to do, you just can't decide if you should do it or not."
"How will kissing Fleur help?"
"Everything, I can't describe the feeling, but it's how I knew, that I should hunt the Horcruxes after I kissed Ginny after Dumbledore's funeral. It's how I knew that Ginny meant everything to me, that I couldn't bear for her to live in a mess up world. I was terrified of course, you knew my fear because we had nothing to go on, but it's what kept me going. I'd rather die trying than live knowing that I haven't given it my best shot." He stopped, then fixed Hermione on the spot with his brilliant green eyes. "Right now, you're only half of the Hermione I know. The Hermione I know, wouldn't stop finding her answers, just because she's sick or scared, the Hermione I know is brilliant without a doubt and she would certainly throw a fuss, if she finds out that you're wasting all that talent, and that you're cowering instead, what would she say to that, hmm?" He finished making a tsk tsking sound.
"On second thought, I hate it more when you're being all smart and wise than you being perceptive," she answered a faint trace of a smile on her lips.
"Yeah, well, that's because I could be brilliant like you and you're being jealous," He chuckled and then turned serious again. "I have faith in you, 'Mione, I know you can find a cure to this rare veela disease that you have."
"That makes one of us, Harry, then again, I get it when you said that you'd rather die trying. I'm still not sure, but I do feel better even if it's just a little bit."
"That's good to know, so," he said, slapping his hand on the table and peering outside and noting that the rain had slowed down to a trickle, "I think it's time we should head back to the Ministry, before we get caught in another downpour."
"Right," Hermione agreed, following Harry to the back of the pub where they could apparate. They both smiled and waved to the other wizards and witches as they made their way through. Hermione unaware that she began chuckling to herself.
"If I thought you weren't a loon before, I reckon I just changed my mind."
"What?"
"Just now, you were laughing to yourself and I don't know why."
"Oh that, earlier when you teased me about being pregnant, I just remembered," she said.
"What?" Harry asked, curious.
"Honestly, Harry, where'd you come up with those names? Dominique and Victoire..." Harry just gave a sheepish grin in response then turned on his heel and disapparated which Hermione followed suit.
xxxXXXxxx
Hermione's eyes were dead tired, the words before her were already swimming in a blur. It wasn't just her eyes that were tired, everything about her was fatigued, her brain, her body, even her own emotions were already stretched to their limit, but she knew she had to go on. If Hermione had decided earlier on that she would help Fleur, now she was dead set on it. If Fleur wanted a wish, then she would do everything in her power to acquire one, however impossible it may be. So, that's how Hermione had decided to spend the rest of her day, she had been reading and researching everything she could find about Jinns, the only problem was, nothing she found was useful. She had just read about a hundred different versions about the origin and history of Jinns, but nothing about how to acquire a single wish. The only thing all the literature had in common that Hermione had managed to find about Jinns, was that they do have the power to grant any wish. And what if Fleur's wish was to indeed kill the veela within her? Hermione thought suddenly. Then I'd just kill her, save us all this trouble to begin with, Hermione answered darkly. No, you wouldn't. Of course not!
"I'm not even thinking right," she let out an exasperated sigh. She leaned her head back on the bookshelf behind her and then closed her eyes. I'll just rest my eyes... ten seconds, one, two, no, five minutes... just five... min... And then, Hermione was falling again.
It was the same dream, but this time the creature did not appear. If in Hermione's previous dreams, it was taking her a long time to fall, this time it was fast, blindingly fast, her heart beating violently making her chest ache by it's erratic rhythm, and screaming soundlessly was all Hermione can do, the ground coming up faster and faster, any moment now, she was going to hit it and that she would probably never wake up, until...
"Hermione! Hermione! Wake up! Please..."
Hermione's eyes flew open suddenly, she could almost feel her eyeballs rolling back in their sockets, making her vision swam out of focus. At first, Hermione thought that she was staring at the inky blackness of her dream, but then her focus finally returning, she realized that she was staring into Fleur's dark eyes, their faces only inches apart. Hermione could also distinctly feel the talons, which were supposed to be Fleur's fingers digging into her shoulders painfully and was faintly aware that the woman was drawing blood. Hermione prayed that she was still having that dream, but no, this was real, Fleur had veela'd herself out, as to why, Hermione didn't know. It was even impossible for Fleur to be here, because the last time she checked, Fleur was still with Malfoy, they were in an inter departmental meeting, which Harry had managed to dodge by accidentally going on a side-along apparation with her.
"Why are you here?" Hermione choked out, her heart still beating erratically, as she tried to get up from the stool she was sitting on, clutching the edges of the shelves behind her to support her weight.
Fleur's grip on her shoulder slackened, and Hermione was right to assume that the older woman had indeed drawn blood, because if there were any other Unspeakable with them, that Unspeakable would have been a goner, they would have utterly lost it the moment they took in Fleur's thrall, how else can the brunette explain this atmosphere, Fleur had hurt her unintentionally so. If it's even more possible, Fleur's eyes had gone a shade darker than they already were and for a moment, Hermione had half expected to see Fleur sprout a pair of wings, which Hermione hasn't seen before in all the time that the French part-veela had veela'd out before her. Fleur leaned back and straightened up slowly, in which Hermione grasped the opportunity to stagger a few feet away, well as far away as she could without seeming to aggravate the veela before her even more.
"I thought I lost you, you were gone for a full minute until I felt your fear," Fleur answered, half hissing, half whispering, she was staring at the spot where Hermione had been, and then she whipped up her head so fast, staring at Hermione's direction. "Do not, ever do that again," still that half hissing, half whispering sounding voice.
A shiver passed Hermione, by all rights, Hermione should be terrified, she should be running away as fast as she can. But her terror was of a different kind upon seeing Fleur like this, it was as if Hermione's sense had flown out the nearest window, she knew that she should not push a button, but hey, call it a moment of relapse or instincts or whatever, but it was what Hermione did. "Am I not allowed to doze off even for a measly five minutes?" She said, Hermione would have crossed her arms before her as she usually does, whenever she was feeling annoyed, if not for the fact that she was using one of them to grasp the edge of a shelf to support her weight. "Now that you see that I'm alright, would you mind leaving me alone?" What are you doing? Her brain screamed at her, making her grimaced. Do you have a death wish or something, Fleur's all about ready to kill you! "Please," Hermione found herself saying as if her words before aren't enough. She's killing me already, why should I stop?
"No."
"Seriously, Fleur, I need you to go!" Hermione continued, maybe it was the combination of the nightmare she had woken up from and the pent up frustration and anger that had built up from the last few months and add to that the helplessness in the situation she was in, which Hermione feels all the time now and the realization of being Fleur's chosen mate that made her unable to control the temper that she was throwing out.
"I said, no."
"Why the bloody hell not? I don't want to see you! I don't want to talk to you! I don't even want to be anywhere near you!" Hermione's voice rising higher and higher with every sentence that she spoke.
"I hear what you're saying," Fleur began, the French witch had her eyes shut, trying to control herself, and it seemed to be working too, because her talons had receded and was now returning to the normal size and shape of her fingers, "but you don't mean it."
"What makes you bloody think that I don't?" Hermione taunted, very much like the creature in her dreams. When Fleur opened her eyes, Hermione could see that they had almost changed back to their normal hues though the outer rim of Fleur's orbs were still tinged in black, but there was pain too, so much so that it took every ounce of effort for Hermione to not rushed back to the older woman, who was standing so still like a forlorn statue of a Greek goddess to comfort her. I have to do this, she thought steeling her resolved.
"I told you, you can't lie to me," Fleur answered, her voice had also gone back to their normal contra alto tones although a little strained, it was as if Fleur was trying to control her temper, as so not to match Hermione's because it would be bad, very, very bad.
"That's really hilarious, Fleur. I can't lie to you, but you can lie to me? How is that fair?" Hermione challenged, grimacing as she felt the sharp pain on her shoulder where Fleur's talons had dug into her flesh, causing her to drop her arm from the shelf so that she can apply some pressure on the wound that was bleeding itself out.
"I never lied to you," Fleur said as calmly as she could, then paused, noting how the younger woman winced when Hermione took a step away from the bookshelf. "Hermione," Fleur gestured helplessly towards the young woman, "please will you let me—"
"Never?" Hermione cut off, she gritted her teeth, Just a little longer, she thought. "I remembered everything about that summer three years ago." They were now standing directly face to face a distance of several feet between them, it was like watching two wizards about to start a duel.
"Do you?" Fleur countered, she's had enough of Hermione's stubbornness, Merlin help her, if she had to drag Hermione kicking and screaming to St. Mungo's in order to get that shoulder looked at. "Because if our memories are the same, it seems to me that you promised me that you would help me!" Fleur flared up, her irritation winning against her better judgement.
"I know, and that's what I'm trying to do, even though you lied to me!" Please, just be honest with me Fleur, Hermione thought desperately. This was getting bad, the dark rings around Fleur's eyes which should have reduced by now, was now starting to dominate again.
"I never lied!"
"If you never lied, then what was that bloody bit when you said you never intended to find your mate? You could have just bloody told me!"
"That was the truth!" Fleur retorted, matching Hermione's volume. "I never intended to find my Chosen, I never intended to have found you. But somebody must really hate me, because I did," Fleur added then looked away from the brunette.
Hermione closed in the distance between them, taking a few tentative steps towards the French witch, ignoring the sharp bite of pain on her shoulder. If this was not a bad situation they were having, Hermione would have been probably fascinated with how the black and blue on Fleur's eyes fought to regain control. There you are, Hermione thought, seeing that it was the blue in Fleur's eyes that had won out. Another step, when Hermione froze because Fleur was looking at her again.
"Hermione, you need to understand," Fleur began, fixing the younger witch with that deep blue stare of hers, this was it, Fleur knew that she could no longer fight it, damn the odds, the need to be with Hermione was so strong, that her words came out in a slew of French and English mixing together, hoping that the words that came out of her mouth would explain to the younger witch how she had felt and feels for Hermione all this years.
It's a good thing though that Hermione could understood French well enough and this was what she heard Fleur said: "Watching you is the only thing that I could do. Talking to you and being your friend is the next best thing to actually be with you. It kills me everyday, knowing that you are so near, but I could never reach you. I want you, so much so, that everyday whenever I wake up, to feel you waking up on the floor just above me, is a fresh pain, that I have to swallow before facing you. I wanted to be more. I wanted to wake up with you, not just for one day but everyday for as long as you'd want me to. I wanted to be right next to you, not just today, but for the rest of this cursed existence. I wanted you to want me, the way that I do, but I know that I can't ask for it, because I know that I can't want you, I could never want you, because I can't risk losing you. I would always choose you Hermione, always. I nearly damn went near to committing murder, when you showed up in my doorstep badly hurt. I had never wanted to kill anyone so much in my life, that I drove everyone in that house to near insanity. But you saw me, seeing you saw me, I knew that you would never want me to do any of that even though you never knew then why I wanted to. It was okay with me even though you never got it, because for you, it would always be okay for you to hurt me but I will never forgive myself if I hurt you." Fleur paused and then took a deep breath, "But still, I keep hurting you. Hermione, I never lied to you, I am so sorry that I keep on breaking my promises and I am so sorry that I never told you who you were to me because I thought that if you didn't know, that whatever we have right now, would last, even though I knew that it would never be enough for me, that I would have to settle for less. And if ever I lied, it was when I said that if ever I had found my mate I would run as fast as I can in the opposite direction. It's really hard to stay away from you, if you only knew how it feels like the first time I saw you, it was like the pull of gravity, that however much I try to go against it, to resist it, I end up wanting you more and more, needing you to be with me more and more. If you only knew and understood how much I feel for you, trust me when I say that I need you to push me away, because I know that it will cost me more than I could have bargained for. I know it is selfish, but like I have said before, I choose you. Believe it when I say, that I am trying my damnedest to move from this spot, but I can't, I know it's hard to believe because it's easy to take just one step back, but I can't, I really can't, it's because you want me here. It's not enough for you to say that you don't want me, you have to mean it, Hermione, really and truly mean it."
Hermione was reeling from all that Fleur had said, her nightmare feels like a long forgotten memory, the pain on her shoulder feels inconsequential and non existent compared to Fleur's pain. Oh, Hermione could have given them the release they both needed, to walk away, was the best answer for both of them, but Hermione also had that deep feeling that even if she did, somehow, something or someone would play another trick on them and eventually they would find their way back to each other, no matter the time or the distance they spend apart. It's annoying how Fate tends to work, however much one tries to defy it. For a moment, everything was a blur to her and the only clear thing that she can see were Fleur's deep blue eyes, pleading and begging with her to do as she was asked to do, Hermione only sighed, then took the remaining steps until she stopped a feet away from Fleur, the younger witch's face wearing a sad smile. "See Fleur, it's not that hard to be honest with me."
"Please, Hermione you have to do it, don't ask it of me," Fleur pleaded, searching the younger witch's face.
"You already know that I can't, and you know it's true."
"What you're asking for is too much, what you want is to disappear from my life."
"No Fleur," Hermione said shaking her head, her gaze never wavering from Fleur's eyes. "No one's disappearing and no one's dying either. That's just stupid and I'll prove it to you," Hermione noted that Fleur's eyes had retained their normal blue color which Hermione found a miracle after Fleur had just confessed to her, all those feelings that the older woman had bottled up all these years. "There you are, I see you." Hermione took a deep breath, "do you trust me?"
"I—" Fleur looked away then back again at her, "Yes, always."
"Kiss me."