A/N: Hello, I am having a truly awful time at work at the moment- if you have any obscure Fleurmione fics I might not have read- please link them to me, reading Fleurmione cheers me up :) Anyway, with work being such a slave driver this chapter might be a bit rough, so let me know if there are any corrections I need to make. As always, R&R! and PLEASE write some Fleurmione of your own to add to the stash I can read :)
The company party was settling into an easy decline when Ginny joined Hermione at a table with a couple of cocktails.
"So, what on earth was that with Phlegm before?" she asked, taking a sip of her cocktail. Hermione raised an eyebrow in response. Ginny frowned, "When you pulled her into our conversation and set her loose on Shacklebolt's son and his fiancée. What was with that?"
Ordinarily, Hermione would deflect a question like this. But after the awkwardness with Sebastian and Amy, the night had taken a pleasant turn and she was a happy number of drinks deep. Her head was swimming and she was brimming with a drunken warmness that drew her to open up with her friend.
"I know she isn't as cold as everyone thinks, Gin. You weren't at Shell Cottage when she looked after me. I just want to know what's wrong with her."
Ginny groaned and went to lean heavily on the table. In her tipsiness an elbow missed and she almost fell out of her chair. "'Mione. You've also gotta remember her at the Triwizard Tournament. And you might've spent some good time together during the war, but I saw her at family functions during her marriage to Bill… and she's just like that. She's just cold."
"Gin…" Hermione loudly disagreed, "I know that if I could just get through to her…"
"Oh come on, 'Mione," Ginny snorted, "She isn't one of your little projects. You can't fix her. Its just what she's like."
They both looked across the room, which had thinned out a little bit by now. Fleur was laughing and flipping her hair in the middle of a large group of wizards and witches. They all looked like they were hanging on her every word.
"Its not fixing, Gin, its helping," Hermione said huffily.
"Have you never heard of once bitten, twice shy, 'Mione?" Gin said, crossing her arms, "You're heading for another bite."
Hermione turned her eyes from the stunning Frenchwoman and looked back at her redheaded friend.
"So what ever happened to Bill?" she said, her curiosity urging her to try another tack. Ginny uncrossed her arms and took her drink in her hands, nursing it softly.
"He… he's depressed, 'Mione," Ginny said quietly, "Even when we got him off the drink it still didn't help. Most days he just lies on his bed staring at the wall."
"Gods, Gin," Hermione said softly, "I didn't realise it was that bad. I'm sorry."
Ginny seemed to shake her mood off, looking to change the subject. "Nevermind that, look at my other brother," she said, rolling her eyes. Hermione turned and saw Ron handing out autographs to some young partygoers who were looking at him with wide eyes.
"Merlin, he just cannot get enough of the Golden Trio spotlight," Hermione said, laughing.
The party carried on into the small hours of the morning, and soon there were only a handful of guests left. They had relocated into a staff room and were sitting around on some plush couches drinking wine. Harry and Ron had gone home, but Ginny and George Weasley remained in merry spirits. Draco and Blaise were sitting in a corner together, frequently laughing at old Slytherin memories. Hermione was sat next to George and Ginny. Across from her were a small group of socialites, including Fleur. Hermione tried not to look scandalised as one of them snorted a line of some powder off a table. She noticed Fleur looked unfazed by her companion's behaviour. Did she ever party that hard? Hermione couldn't imagine her ever being out of control.
"To Malfoy & Granger: officially an award winning company," George said, quite genuinely for once, raising his glass. The others raised their glasses to the toast and they drank deeply. George lowered his cup from his mouth and the group guffawed as a brilliant green goatee was revealed.
"What?" George asked, clueless. Malfoy winked across the room at Hermione.
"Well, I think a proper toast calls for the top shelf liquor," Draco said airily, starting to rise, "I have a good bottle in my office.."
"You're not going anywhere, Malfoy!" George bellowed, leaping across the room to tackle Draco with a laugh.
"I can get the bottle for you, Draco," Fleur laughed, as George wrestled Draco on the floor. She got up gracefully and started to sweep out of the room.
"I'll show you where his office is," Hermione said quickly, getting up to follow her. She ignored Ginny's outraged look. She followed Fleur out of the room.
"I never pictured you for the type of person who would be one of the last to leave a party," Fleur said conversationally as they walked across the floor.
"Well, maybe I have changed a lot since you knew me at Shell Cottage too," Hermione said, smiling. Fleur was still aloof but seemed a little more relaxed around the brunette witch.
Fleur flipped her long silver-blonde hair over her shoulder and Hermione tried to suppress a shiver as Fleur's hair brushed her slightly in its movement.
"Hm, I am curious to know what else has changed about you, Hermione," Fleur said, as they entered the elevator. Hermione punched in the floor number that hers and Draco's offices were on.
Hermione laughed, "Well a lot has stayed the same. Draco even had to install a library on our floor to hold all the books I wanted."
Fleur laughed too and an easy silence fell over them.
"You aren't going to ask what's wrong with me again, are you?" Fleur said, a smile still playing at her lips.
Hermione sighed, admitting temporary defeat. The elevator dinged brightly as the door opened to the dimly lit floor. Fleur strode confidently out of the elevator and started gliding down the hallway. Hermione followed her, feeling like she was in a trance. Fleur's hair was flowing silkily behind her and the only noise on the floor was the soft clicking of her heels.
"I-it's the one just up here on the left," Hermione said, almost in a whisper. Fleur opened the door and led them in to Draco's office, looking around with a lazy curiosity.
"I do like your offices here," Fleur said with approval, before turning to Hermione, "So where is this bottle of alcohol?"
Hermione gestured to a low shelf behind Draco's desk and Fleur bent down to fetch the bottle. Hermione felt her breath hitch in her throat as she tried valiantly not to check out Fleur's ass.
Within a second, Fleur was back beside Hermione, clutching a 30-year old bottle of Firewhisky. She was looking at Hermione strangely and Hermione hoped desperately that she was not blushing. She was always terrible at subtlety after a few drinks.
"Can I see this library that Draco provided for you?" Fleur asked. Hermione nodded dumbly.
She led her back out into the hall and into a door between her office and Draco's. The room was filled with many large spaced out bookshelves, a few armchairs scattered around. Fleur roamed down a bookshelf, running an elegant hand along the books.
"I always admired your intelligence and thirst for knowledge, Hermione," Fleur said softly, still facing away from Hermione. Hermione followed her down the bookshelf.
"Do you remember reading to me at Shell Cottage? It was the only thing that kept me going back then," Hermione said quietly.
Fleur didn't reply. Instead, she opened the bottle of Firewhisky and took a swig straight from the bottle. She turned around and handed the bottle to Hermione, her face unreadable.
Hermione took the bottle, her fingers brushing Fleur's for a moment. She took a swig and winced at the strong taste, putting the bottle on a nearby shelf in revulsion.
"Not used to the taste of straight Firewhisky?" Fleur asked, drawing closer to Hermione. They were so close now their faces were almost touching. Hermione felt her stomach flip and a heat rise between her legs.
"I-uh-I'm not used to a lot of things, I guess," Hermione stammered, completely lost by the intensity of Fleur's deep blue eyes staring into her own.
In an instant, Fleur pressed her lips against Hermione's. Hermione felt a thrill course through her like lightning. Never had she felt a jolt like this when kissing someone. Her hands automatically tangled themselves in Fleur's hair as Fleur pushed her against the bookshelf. She felt Fleur's tongue press against her lips and opened her mouth with a quiet moan. Fleur's tongue immediately entered her mouth, sliding against her tongue. Hermione pressed her body up harder against Fleur's, driven wild by the feel of Fleur's incredible body pressed to her.
Fleur pulled away, a smile playing at her lips, "I thought I saw you looking at me a certain way, Hermione…"
Hermione swooned in Fleur's arms, speechless for a moment before uttering, "I… I like you Fleur…"
Fleur smirked, a little triumphant. Hermione's smile faltered.
"You're not going to hurt me, are you?" Hermione asked, suddenly afraid that this was another Amy moment and Fleur was about to drop a harsh comment.
Fleur stepped back suddenly, a frown on her face. Within seconds she had drawn back and picked up the bottle of Firewhisky again.
"I'm sorry, Hermione," she said softly, "Lets just pretend this didn't happen."
Hermione straightened out her clothes and took a deep breath, stepping towards Fleur. But Fleur had her cold expression on again and was already beginning to walk away.
"We had better not keep them waiting for this Firewhisky."
Hermione sat down at an outdoor table at the café across from Draco. Draco was wrapped in a thick cardigan and dramatically wearing a large pair of sunglasses.
"Just a coffee, please… black," he said weakly to the waitress.
"A bagel and an orange juice, thanks" Hermione chirped.
"Gods, Granger, how are you not deathly hungover?" Draco hissed, as if the very sunlight was killing him.
"Ah, I went home after we fetched that old bottle of Firewhisky for your next round of toasts," Hermione laughed. Draco cringed at the memory of the Firewhisky.
"Merlin… I wish I had gone home then too…" he wrapped his cardigan more tightly around himself and shuddered.
"Anything interesting happen after I left?" Hermione asked, as the waitress returned with their drinks.
"Wait, what happened with Delacour when you went to get the Firewhisky?" Draco said, abruptly dodging the question to focus instead on Hermione.
He took a long sip of his black coffee, sighing with happiness at the bitter taste.
"She… She kissed me," Hermione said awkwardly, pulling her orange juice towards her.
Draco choked on his mouthful of coffee.
"Merlin, Granger! I didn't think you had it in you!"
"But then she got all cold and told me to forget it happened," Hermione said with a frown.
"Mn, but I hear that's what she's like," Draco said, "Lets focus on the positive! Hermione Granger actually had a crush and acted on it!"
Hermione laughed, it was heart-warming when Draco openly showed his friendship for her instead of being playfully insulting. The waitress returned with Hermione's bagel and placed it in front of him and Draco suddenly slapped his hands on the table.
"We'll have a round of Bloody Marys, thanks," Draco said with a smirk, "It's a celebratory kind of morning." The waitress smiled and nodded and disappeared back inside the café.
"So what happened with you after I left?" Hermione asked. Draco ran a hand through his tousled platinum blonde locks.
"That, Granger," he said with a cringe, "Is a story for another time. Preferably a time with multiple drinks."
Hermione sighed, "Fine then, Malfoy. But I'll get it out of you," she said with a laugh, "So am I going to get another warning from you about Fleur?"
Draco sipped at his coffee again, "Well, I've already given it to you… I'm no Weasley. You won't find me sulking over who you decide to talk to," he said with shrug "You're like me. We take our time to figure things out. We go for what we want."
"I just think something has happened to make her act the way she is…"
"As long as you don't make another scene at one of our parties," Draco said, smoothing back his hair. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"As if you and George fighting didn't cause a scene," Hermione retorted. Draco pulled off his sunglasses dramatically.
"We aren't talking about that Granger!"
As luck would have it, Hermione did not have to wait long before she next saw the mysterious Frenchwoman. After Malfoy's jabs about eating lunch at her desk everyday, Hermione had decided to venture out and take advantage of the many lovely eateries around her office.
It had only been about a week since the office party and she was back to her usual habits of delving heavily into her work and doing minimal socialising. It wasn't entirely her fault though, Draco had managed to secure them some truly fascinating projects and he was working extended hours too.
She found a little café on a corner that looked airy and inviting. She shook her head. Maybe she didn't get out enough if she didn't know this place existed a mere two blocks from her office.
Hermione had just ordered herself a pasta when she turned around and scanned the room for a table, her breath catching in her throat at the vision in the corner. Fleur was sitting alone at a table, sipping leisurely at a soup while reading the Daily Prophet. Hermione summoned every scrap of Gryffindor bravery and went and sat at the table with Fleur.
"Non," Fleur said, without even looking up.
"Sorry?" Hermione said, a little thrown. At the sound of her voice Fleur looked up from her paper, surprise written across her pretty features.
"Oh, Hermione!" she exclaimed, "I thought…"
"That I was some creep approaching you in a café to hit on you?" Hermione said with a smile and Fleur laughed.
"It happens more than you would think," Fleur said silkily, folding her paper up and putting it on the table. She went back to sipping her soup, seemingly unfazed by her surprise lunch-mate.
"You know, I didn't see you much after the war," Hermione said, beginning to tuck into her own lunch, "And now it seems like you are everywhere I go."
Fleur watched her carefully with her icy sapphire eyes. "Hm. Maybe it is you that is everywhere I go, Hermione?"
The tension hung for a moment before both girls smiled and slipped into talking about this and that, never remaining long on any serious topics. Hermione was thrilled at easing a conversation out of Fleur, even if her aloof and cold defensive act was up in full force. Her lunch hour had almost passed when Hermione gripped her Gryffindor courage and decided to doggedly pursue Fleur's mysterious change in circumstances.
"Fleur, do you remember when you nursed me back to health after Malfoy Manor?" Hermione asked, her face taking on a more serious look.
Fleur nodded.
"I told you everything that happened to me, even the things I didn't tell the boys." Hermione said earnestly.
Fleur looked down at her soup, dropping her spoon and frowning.
"What is it that happened with you and Bill?" Hermione pressed on, looking at the beautiful blonde.
Fleur looked up again at Hermione, her eyes full of pain and sadness. "We did something horrible and now we have to live with ourselves."
Hermione hadn't expected this. If anything, she had assumed that Bill and Fleur had just fought viciously before their divorce.
"Fleur… We all had to do some tough things in the war…"
Fleur sighed, "its not that, Hermione," she shook her head, "anyway, how did you end up in business with that Malfoy boy? I thought you and the Weasleys all hated him?"
Fleur might have strategically changed the subject, but Hermione was just thrilled that Fleur was finally acting like her genuine self and conversing normally without an icy exterior.
"Well, we did… But he's not all bad. Everyone does some horrible things sometimes," Hermione said, Fleur winced at that, "But deep down he is just an intelligent guy with high ambitions and a thirst to push boundaries. That clicks with me on a level I don't click with my other friends on."
Fleur nodded, "That makes sense," she conceded, returning to sipping her soup.
"What about you? How did you end up going from being an Unspeakable to being a socialite?" Hermione asked, all but abandoning her pasta as she stared intently at Fleur.
"I lost my job," Fleur said simply, as if it was the most casual thing in the world, "I stopped turning up regularly and clashed with colleagues… it does not matter. Being a socialite is easier." She shrugged and kept sipping her soup delicately.
Hermione's brows furrowed. It was frustrating being so close to the heart of the problem that was affecting her wartime saviour… she wished that Fleur could just confide in her what had happened already. She swallowed slowly, thinking carefully. She was Hermione Granger, she might be prone to impatient outbursts with Ron and Harry, but she sure as hell knew how to play the long game.
"So as a socialite, you have plenty of time for meeting friends for lunch?" Hermione said, her lips quirking into a small smile. Fleur looked up at her, momentarily dropping her façade to look disarmed by the younger witch's surprise charm.
"Well…" Fleur shifted uncomfortably in her seat, thinking, before finally conceding, "Oui, I suppose I do."
Hermione smiled, reaching across the table and putting her hand on top of Fleur's. Fleur looked surprised, and there was a flicker of something else in her expression before she put up her well-practised neutral expression again.
"Well, I will see you for lunch again soon, Fleur," Hermione said with a smile, "I'll owl you the details."
Hermione's head rushed with the nerve she had shown in the face of the intimidating blonde, raising herself from her chair and striding confidently out of the eatery before she could lose her resolve.