This chapter was a lot more fun to write and hopefully it's better then the beginning few chapters of this story which I'm not totally happy with. They seemed a bit functional to me. As always I'm happy to hear from you. Criticism welcomed. Thanks for reading.
Chapter 4 - Immunity
Fortunately for Ron, and not quite so fortunately for Gabrielle, Ron did more or less forget about it. He never stressed much over what wasn't in front of him and he didn't see or even hear talk of Gabrielle for another three months.
It was drawing near to Christmas and he was in the Leaky Cauldron at Diagon Alley having a lunchtime butterbeer with a few work colleagues.
Ron only looked up and saw her when he realized that everyone else had stopped laughing at one of Aspley's hag-walks-into-a-bar jokes.
Gabrielle looked unhappy and seemed to be being unceremoniously pushed along by her dark haired friend he had met when she came to the joke shop opening. But as he caught Gabrielle's eye she smiled brightly and waved.
Ron waved back her smile disappeared to be replaced with an uncomfortable look. Suddenly she couldn't meet his eye. Ron glanced over at his work mates in bemusement. They were all gazing at her with idiotic abandon.
"Oi," he said, waving a hand in front of O'Brien's face. "Snap out of it mate."
O'Brien came to himself, shaking his head in confusion. Aspley tried unsuccessfully to form a sentence but ending up making nonsense noises.
"Bloody hell," Ron said trying not to laugh and wondering if he looked like that when he was smitten with Fleur. He turned back to Gabrielle but she was hustling her friend out of the door.
"Do you know her?" O'Brien said in disbelief.
"What? Yeah. She's my brother's wife's sister."
"Introduce us," Aspley begged.
"What, so you can drool over her some more?" Ron smirked. "I don't think so. Besides you've obviously already frightened her off. She practically ran out of here." As an afterthought he added, "And she's still at school."
Then Ron fell silent as he spotted the two witches enter the pub and the pairing was so unlikely his jaw dropped.
"I'll, er, get another round in," he said as an excuse to get up. As he walked to the bar he glanced back to the table and, yep, the same stupid expressions had settled back onto his friends faces. The difference was that this time he was having to fight it off too.
"Ron," an unnaturally high voice pierced the fog in his head.
"Hi Hermione," he said gratefully. He took a bracing breath and turned to the other woman."Hello Fleur."
"'Allo Ronald. 'Ermione and I are going Christmas shopping," Fleur informed him.
"Why? Ahem, I mean, that sounds great!" He had obviously injected a little too much enthusiasm into that stunningly bad comment because Hermione gave an annoyed little twitch.
"I'll catch you up, Fleur," she said pointedly. Fleur didn't seem to mind being dismissed. In fact she barely seemed to notice and merely floated towards Diagon Alley.
"Okay," Ron said. "I've said this before but I'll say it again, you are mental."
"Quite possibly," Hermione agreed with a rueful shake of her head. Her hair, singed short in one of George's experiments, fluffed in agitation like a dandelion clock.
"You're shopping with Fleur," he said thinking perhaps it would make more sense if he repeated it.
"It was her idea and I really do need to get started so..." Hermione trailed off pathetically.
"But you don't like Fleur," Ron protested. "It's one of my favorite things about you."
"Oh, really?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Even though you got giddy at the sight of her for years."
Ron shrugged and decided not to mention that he still did to a lesser extent. "It reminds me that you aren't perfect after all. Besides you always say that like it's some sort of character flaw – I couldn't help it. She's got that Veela magic."
"Oh come off it," Hermione scoffed. "You don't go all gooey over Gabrielle and she has that "Veela magic" too."
"Not this again," Ron sighed. "Gabby's different."
"How?"
"I don't know. She just is," he said simply.
Hermione was poised to say something else when Fleur stuck her head back into the pub and yelled, "'Ermione, 'Urry up!"
"Why did I agree to this?" Hermione moaned.
"Don't ask me. You're supposed to be the clever one," Ron said smugly.
"I guess it could be worse..." she mused.
"Yep. It could be a three headed dog..."
"...or pschotic Deateaters..."
"...or my mother when she gets in a rip..."
"Ron!"
"Kidding," he said hastily. "Go on then. Before she come back. I've had all the Veela magic I can cope with today."
Christmas shopping at Diagon Alley should have been a treat and Gabrielle was looking forward to it in an odd disconnected sort of way. The problem was she was a bit preoccupied with the ongoing hostilities with Fleur.
She had decided to spend the Christmas with Fleur, Bill and Victoire at Seashell Cottage so she could have some time with them and her Hogwarts friends over the holidays.
Unfortunately she and Fleur hadn't lived under the same roof for almost seven years and if they had ever known how to peacefully cohabit they had long forgotten. Actually, when Gabrielle thought of their early childhood she was bombarded with memories of tricks, taunts and all out screaming matches. There were a few nice times but Gabrielle realized a little too late that they hadn't really liked one another that much.
Oh, they loved each other in that reluctant and obligatory manner demanded of siblings but they hadn't been friends. It had only been since Fleur had moved to England that their relationship had improved.
It seemed that absence really did make the heart grow fonder and in the case of the Delacour sisters a buffer zone of at least a couple of hundred miles was essential.
The result of this reinstated familial squabbling meant that Gabrielle found herself jumping at the first chance to escape. She had arranged to meet Mel to go shopping but she still felt the black shadow of her Fleur hanging over her.
She was struggling to shake off her gloomy mood until they stepped inside the Leaky Cauldron and who should she see but Ron Weasley. He was sitting at a table in the corner, drinking merrily with a couple of friends.
Gabrielle had no control over herself; she felt her face break into a charmed smile which naturally threw Ron's friends into a stupor. True to form, though, he just shot her a friendly grin and rolled his eyes a little as he noticed that the man on his left was starting to gazing fixedly at her.
How embarrassing! It wasn't even as though there was any chance that he hadn't noticed what she had inadvertently done. She had missed her mark and taken out innocent bystanders. Gabrielle watched in horror as Ron waved a hand in front of the other man's face.
"Let's go," she hissed to Mel who was quietly giggling.
"Not yet," Mel resisted. "Don't you want to talk to him?"
"No." With that Gabrielle grabbed Mel's arm and dragged her bodily out into the yard. Mel was still laughing as she tapped the bricks with her wand.
"Trust you to fall for the one bloke who just doesn't respond to the Veela thing."
"Shut up," Gabrielle said crankily.
Mel wasn't perturbed. "I'm just saying it's ironic. I guess you'll just have to try something a bit more... traditional.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," Mel said in a slow voice, "That 99.9 per cent of the female population get by without magical methods of seduction."
"Traditional methods..." Gabrielle said thoughtfully as she followed Mel into Diagon Alley.
Hermione stole a glance at Fleur out of the corner of her eye as the blond woman rifled through a bin of accessories. Then she looked around and realized that almost everyone else in the shop was staring in the same direction.
This is insane, Hermione thought. I am insane for doing this. Ron was right, Hermione just didn't like Fleur and she supposed, if she was honest, a small part of the reason for that was jealousy.
Which was patently ridiculous. Hermione was a grown woman with a family and a very nice life, thank you. There was no logical reason to be jealous.
But she was and the guilt of it was why she had agreed to come Christmas shopping with one of the few people she could claim to really dislike. It was perhaps a misguided effort to make peace with her sister-in-law – to prove that it was possible to act on principle, to override such a silly and counterproductive emotion.
It was a shame that the whole experience was akin to have teeth pulled, something Hermione was more than averagely acquainted with.
Having said that, what Fleur had in mind when she had suggested this outing was anyone's guess. It defied even Hermione's impressive skills of deduction.
So they flitted from shop to shop, Hermione ruthlessly purchasing her way through a floor length shopping list and Fleur vaguely wondering whether the the blue or the green scarf would look better with Bill's hair and if it would clash with her winter coat. It was enough to drive Hermione mad.
Well, madder anyway.
She checked her watch and breathed a sigh of relief. It was almost tea time and soon Hermione could plead a prior engagement and force George to take her to dinner.
Hmm... She eyed Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes speculatively and wondered if she might be able to wrap up this nightmare ahead of schedule.
"'Ow do you think zis 'at looks?" Fleur asked, posing in front of a mirror.
Hermione tried not to pull a face. Cynically she always suspected that Fleur was perfectly capable of pronouncing English words but didn't because she knew the French accent was far more alluring. After all Gabrielle knew what an "H" was.
"I think it makes you look puffy," Hermione lied causing Fleur to rip off the offending hat and throw it on the counter. "Let's stop into the joke shop. These bags are getting a bit heavy," she suggested.
"Alright," Fleur agreed easily. For some unfathomable reason she had always had a soft spot for Fred and George.
They crossed over the cobbled alley and pushed their way into the overcrowded joke shop.
"Hello Mrs Weasley and Mrs Weasley," a chipper cockney voice piped up over the din.
"Call me Hermione, Verity," Hermione told the woman for what must have been the thousandth time.
"Yes, Mrs Weasley," Verity replied cheerfully.
Hermione sighed and shook her head in exasperation but decided that was a discussion for another day.
"God, that makes me feel old," She muttered turning back to Fleur who was gazing out of the window. Hermione followed her line of sight and saw Gabrielle walking towards the shop with her friend.
"Oh, I didn't know Gabrielle was here today," Hermione said. To her surprise Fleur threw her a sharp look. "Okay... I'm just going to put these upstairs. Be right back."
The little flat above the joke shop wasn't home to anyone any more so it served as an overflow stock room and occasional crash pad for various members of the extended family. Hermione threw her bags onto the bed of George's old room and wondered if Fleur would notice if she didn't come back downstairs.
Suddenly there were arms around Hermione's waist and she let out a startled shriek.
"Good to know I can still sneak up on you, love." George laughed in her ear."Hiding from Fleur?"
Hermione was annoyed that he had managed to surprise her. She grumbled a little before turning to face her husband. "Only a little bit," she admitted.
"Can I rescue you yet?"
"You can," she smiled but an explosion cut off their conversation and both of them raced to the window.
The scene unfolding on the street outside made George swear and Hermione hiss.
"Quickly," she told him. "Go get Ron. He's in the pub."
"What!"
"George, just go!"
He gave her a confused look before dashing out of the room. Hermione glanced incredulously out of the window one last time before apperating in search of Bill.