Hi everyone! Some of you were guessing that Hermione is having PTSD and well, she is not. I heard stories of villagers in South East Asian countries (stories of my father's relatives) struggling and/or dying from curses similar to Hermione's. I tweaked it here and there to fit the story so while there are similarities, there are also a lot of differences. Now, whether these curses are real or they are just superstitions, I don't know. There are still many things science has not been able to explain yet but I personally prefer it if these curses are not real because it's a horrible way to die.

Anyway, I am touched and overwhelmed from your support and interest in this story.

I thought I could finish one chapter within two to three days but alas, life thinks differently.

So without further ado, here's the next chapter.

Thank you for leaving your reviews, I really appreciate it.

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. :)

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter.

P.S.: Please excuse any mistakes especially grammatical ones. I reread it a few times but some might've gone undetected.

"So who's Mildred?"

Their return from the lake an hour ago, no words passed between them until Hermione decided to break the silence. The brunette watched Fleur made tea for them both. The blonde was clearly agitated as her movements were lacking the usual grace and elegance that characterised Fleur. Hearing that question, Fleur's jaw tensed. Hermione wondered whether satisfying her curiousity was worth the difficult interrogation ahead.

"An acquaintance," Fleur finally said, trying her best to keep calm.

"You seem to dislike her."

"We just do not see eye to eye," Fleur handed Hermione a cup of tea. The brunette gratefully held it in her cold hands.

"Oh? Why is that? Let me guess – she has a horrible taste for fashion."

Hermione's attempt to lighten the conversation failed. Fleur still had that stony expression on her face. The blonde decided to stand at the window, staring at the brilliantly blue sky.

"She's a person I never want to ever see again."

Hermione reached out her hand and squeezed Fleur's arm gently.

"We don't have to see Mildred, you know," Hermione said softly. "I'm pretty sure there are other ways to figure this…curse."

Curse. That word left such a bitter taste in her mouth. She had a long list of suspects, most of them relatives of killed, captured, and hiding Death Eaters. Plus Rita Sketter, that moronic cow. But Hermione was certain Skeeter would not go that far. The journalist's preferred style was to write sensational and horrible articles about the people she hated.

"Hermione, we must not take this lightly," Fleur frowned. "When I was working as a Curse-Breaker, I've seen how horrible even the simplest curse can be. No. We will go and see Mildred. I can't let you suffer for something that has nothing to do with you."

Fleur gently released Hermione's grip from her arm.

"I'm going to look for Mildred," the blonde told Hermione. "I shouldn't be long."

Hermione sighed as she watched Fleur left and Disapparated away. The brunette looked out of the window and decided it would be a waste to stay inside when the weather was beautiful.

Five minutes later, the brunette dozed off in the middle of the lake.

Hermione opened her fridge and was overjoyed to see the leftovers pasta Fleur made last night. It was late in the evening and the brunette was starving. She murmured a food heating spell over the pasta and gobbled it up.

Once her stomach was appeased, Hermione rested on her couch. She glanced at the clock and frowned. It was nearly midnight yet Fleur had not returned. Unease crept into Hermione's heart. Had something bad happen to Fleur? Was it something to do with this Mildred character? The brunette was anxious.

Hermione had no idea where to even start to look for Fleur. The blonde did not give any hints where she would be going. The brunette found herself pacing in front of the fireplace, strongly considering to activate the illegal Floo she kept just in case of emergencies. She was gathering her courage to use the Floo when she heard the familiar loud crack at the door.

The brunette was just in time to catch a falling Fleur stumbling from the door.

"Fleur? Are you okay? What happened?"

The blonde reeked of alcohol, cigarettes, and incense. She was mumbling incoherently.

"Hang on, I'll carry you to the bed."

The tall blonde proved to be too difficult for Hermione to carry in her arms. Half-carrying half-dragging a nearly unconscious Fleur to the bed renewed Hermione's vow to work out. Not that she would actually do it. Who had the time to exercise?

While trying to tuck the blonde in nicely, the giggling Fleur pulled Hermione and the brunette fell atop Fleur.

"Awww we are together in the bed," Fleur slurred in a sing-song voice. She was trying to embrace Hermione but the brunette was quick enough to dodge and scrambled off the bed.

As Fleur continued her incoherent singing, Hermione tried her best to undress the blonde and get her to change into clothes fit for sleeping. But when Hermione took off Fleur's scarf and saw imprints of lipsticks on the blonde's neck, Hermione swore her heart stopped.

The brunette tried to control her breathing. Tears were threatening to fall. She felt so confused.

Why am I feeling so weird? Was it because I was worried for her safety and now I am relieved that she's okay? But shouldn't I be happy instead? Why am I crying?

Vision blurred by tears, Hermione ran out of the room. Without giving it further thought, she grabbed a handful of the Floo powder, activated the Floo, and stumbled into Grimmauld Place, startling Harry and Ginny.

Hermione ran straight into Ginny's arms and sobbed her heart out. The brunette did not notice the awkward atmosphere in the room.

"Um… 'Mione? As much as I don't mind you to be crying on my shoulder, can I please get dressed first?"

Hermione looked at her redhead friend, confused. Then she blushed and buried her face in her palms.

"I am so sorry, I had no idea," the brunette wanted to melt into the floor right at that moment. "I didn't mean to – oh god I am so sorry!"

Harry scuttled upstairs while yelling out, "Lovely to see you again, 'Mione, and I will kill whoever made you cry but gotta go, I think I've got an owl for me."

"Come back here, you coward!" Ginny yelled at him, half laughing. She then gently tugged at Hermione's arm and dragged the brunette to the sofa.

"Alright then missy, care to explain why you decided to shock us through the Floo at midnight when we're stark naked and I was so close to reaching the heavens?"

Hermione blushed again and decided to stare at the very interesting oaken table in front of her. She was highly aware that her redhead best friend had only a throw to cover herself. Unlike Hermione, Ginny did not seem to feel awkward about it.

"And before you ask, no, I do not share, even if it's with you, 'Mione."

Hermione's face turned redder at the implication.

"No, no, that's not my intention," the brunette shook her head vigorously. "I'm really sorry to walk in to you guys having er… fun. Had I known it, I wouldn't have done it."

"That's okay, 'Mione," Ginny chuckled. "Well, if it were anyone else I'd murder them right this instant but since it's you, I'll be lenient. So tell me, what's wrong? It must be really important to disrupt our sex."

"I won't be hearing the end of this, will I?" groaned Hermione. A glance at Ginny's mischievous eyes answered that question. Hermione sighed. "Well, I don't know. It's nothing big. It's not important even. I think I was just being foolish for no reason."

"Hermione, I have an Auror as a husband and I can assure you my wand work is pretty cool as well," Ginny said in a rather threatening voice. "Either you tell me voluntarily right now or else…"

Hermione gulped. She had nearly forgotten her redhead best friend was not one above doing things illegally. Or at the very least, to bend the law as far as possible. But this was so confusing and Hermione was starting to feel embarrassed for overreacting over nothing of importance.

Ginny sighed, looking at Hermione who was having an internal conflict.

"I'll get us some drinks," the redhead told her.

Moments later, she returned carrying two bottles of wine and with only one glass. She offered Hermione one whole bottle.

"Drink up," the redhead looked deadly serious. "Sipping from the glass will not get you drunk quickly enough. So chug this."

Hermione stared at the proffered bottle and then at Ginny's determined face. The brunette contemplated.

"Hermione, I love you to deaths but I swear I will strangle you for making it so hard for your own friends to help you."

Hermione's eyes darted around the room, trying to locate Ginny's wand. The redhead's temper was not one Hermione would voluntarily face. The brunette took the bottle and took a sip gingerly. Ginny sighed and sat beside Hermione who decided that the bottle label was worthy of her undivided attention.

"'Mione, when you disappeared suddenly a year ago, I was devastated," Ginny leaned back, staring at the ceiling, lost in thoughts. "You were and still are my best friend. No, it's more than that. You're the sister I've never had. I blamed myself for not seeing the signs, for not realizing that you were having internal struggles. You left without telling me anything. No, don't deny it," Ginny placed a finger on Hermione's lips, "I know I was partly to be blamed. You were always there for me, yet I did not do the same for you. I still don't know what I did wrong, but I know I had a hand in it. If it wasn't the case, you'd have told me something."

Hermione swished the bottle gently and took a gulp.

"What happened to us, 'Mione? What's happened to all of us?" Ginny sighed, running her hand through her hair in frustration. "The war is over yet none of us managed to fully recover. Harry's burying himself in his job, convinced that he's responsible to make sure no other will take Voldemort's place. Bill's gone in seclusion, not even wanting to communicate with his own family. George… well, at least he's still alive. Ron's always angry but thank Merlin Luna can keep him in line."

"What's wrong with Ron?" Hermione asked softly.

Ginny shrugged. "Beats me. He's always angry all the time since you left. Except when he's with Luna. I swear that girl must've given him some sort of drug all the time. He's stopped talking to us after our wedding. Nobody knows why. But that's beside the point. My point is… oh what the hell," Ginny downed her glass and poured herself another, "in sort of a roundabout way, the point I'm trying to make is that we are all fucked up, 'Mione. None of us is successful to leave the past behind and move on completely. We are all broken. I am broken. You are broken. Why won't you let me help you? Why won't you let Harry help you?"

Hermione was silent.

Because all of you are frightened by me, she wanted to say. You'll see me as a monster if you know.

"You were never close to Fleur but out of the blue you let her help you. Not me. Not Harry. Yeah, sure, I'm glad that you at least let someone in, let someone share your burden. But why do you keep your friends out? Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for you to have a girlfriend but – "

"She's not my girlfriend," Hermione cut of rather harshly.

"'Mione, there's no need to hide it from me," Ginny said gently, with a little hurt in her expression. "I'm not judging you. I'm just glad someone's making you happy. You deserve it."

"She's not my girlfriend," Hermione repeated. She buried her head in her hands. "I screwed it up. She hates me now."

"What happened? Tell me, 'Mione," Ginny said softly and placed a comforting arm around the now sobbing girl.

"I don't know, Gin, I don't know," Hermione finally said. "It's so confusing. I don't understand it myself."

Ginny pulled the brunette into her arms and rubbed her back soothingly.

"Did you guys have a fight?"

Ginny felt Hermione's head shook slowly.

"Was she suddenly cold and distant to you?"

Hermione shook her head again.

"Alright, that doesn't sound so bad, 'Mione. Wait – is she cheating on you?"

"We're not dating, Gin…"

"I am officially confused as well, 'Mione. What is it? Do you need me to beat her up?"

That earned a chuckle from the brunette.

"Thank you for the lovely offer but no, there's no need to beat anyone up."

"Hermione Granger, can we cut to the chase and tell me what in the bloody Merlin's name is wrong so I can decide whether to raise hell or not?"

"I don't know, Gin." Ginny growled. Hermione quickly added, "I mean, it's so confusing."

"If you're repeating those words one more time I swear…"

"She was drunk. Just now. She came home drunk. There's a lipstick mark on her neck."

"And how would that be a problem if you guys are not dating?" Ginny asked carefully.

"We kissed, Gin, we kissed! That's why!"

"So you kissed but you're not dating, and yet you're hurt because Fleur might be with someone else? I am not sure whether I understand what you're trying to convey."

"I… I kissed her. Last night. Then I… ran away. Nothing else happened. Then just now she came back drunk. With the lipstick on her neck."

Hermione could feel Ginny was trying to contain her laughter. The brunette frowned. She pushed herself away from the redhead and narrowed her eyes.

"Why are you laughing?"

Ginny burst out her laughter.

"We are not in school anymore, 'Mione! Oh my, I can't believe I'm facing another Hogwarts drama," Ginny was holding her sides, tears of laughter down her cheeks.

Hermione felt herself starting to get irritated.

"But since it's you, 'Mione, maybe I can understand. I mean, you were busy saving the boys for seven years. I doubt you had time to be a proper teenager."

"Ginevra Weasley, if you don't stop your laughter now I will walk out of this place!"

Ginny wiped the tears from her eyes and raised her hands in surrender.

"Alright, alright, there I've stopped laughing. But seriously, 'Mione, you're so damn cute. I have a question though – did she kiss you back?"

Hermione felt her cheeks reddened. She looked away and mumbled something.

"I can't hear you, 'Mione."

"Yes, she did," Hermione answered irritably. "What does it matter anyway?"

Ginny chuckled and put an arm around the brunette.

"Because it means you both need to discuss about your feelings."

"There's nothing to discuss."

"Oh sweetie, come on. Tell me, how do you feel about her?"

Hermione stared into the bottle of wine that was still clutched in her hand. How did she feel about Fleur? She took a swig and pondered.

"Fleur is… very kind. Very patient. One of the nicest people I've met. Strong. Beautiful. Clever. Funny. Great cook."

"You're avoiding my question, woman. How do you feel about her?" Ginny persisted.

Hermione took another swig. Ginny would not give up, it seemed.

"Do you like her? Do you care for her? Do you hate her? Do you find her disgusting? What is it?"

Hermione sighed. She was starting to think her impulse to come here was a mistake.

"'Mione?"

"She makes me feel happy," Hermione admitted. "I feel happy and calm when she's around. I feel content."

"And how do you feel when she sleeps next to you?"

Hermione whipped her head. How did Ginny know about that? The brunette did not say anything about sleeping next to Fleur.

"I knew it," the redhead smirked.

Hermione groaned. She fell into a trap.

"I feel safe," she blushed, fixing her eyes on the bottle in her hand. "I feel calm. It's as if the world passes by without dragging me with it, and no matter how much pain I am in, I know things will be alright."

"Then I believe you know what to do," Ginny said softly. "Stop running away from your heart, 'Mione. It's not healthy." She glanced at the clock. "I don't mean to kick you out but Harry will be going outstation tomorrow for Merlin knows how long and I intend to make every moment count."

The redhead gave Hermione a hug and as she climbed the stairs, she told the brunette, "The heart is a funny thing – the more you resist, the more it chains you. Don't be afraid of it, 'Mione. You're a bloody Gryffindor."

It was quite some time before Hermione put the bottle gently on the table and Floo-ed back to her lake.

Hermione felt the gentle ray of the sun fell upon her cheek. Awakened by the warmth, she stretched and opened her eyes. She was on her bed, her blanket snugly covering her. Fleur must have carried her sometime in the morning. Hermione did not remember what time she reached home. But whatever the time was, she knew she did not have enough sleep. She was tired.

Sounds from the kitchen indicated Fleur was up and about, preparing breakfast as usual. Hermione clambered down slowly and dragged herself to the kitchen. To leave Fleur alone and skip breakfast did not feel right to the brunette. Breakfast with Fleur was a ritual she cherished. It was a simple, yet peaceful activity. She sitting at the table, Fleur messing around with the pots and pans. As much as Hermione was not ready to face Fleur, breakfast time with the blonde someone assured her that the day was going to be okay.

Hermione quietly greeted Fleur and took her usual seat. The blonde looked tired and there was a hint of turmoil in her eyes. Hermione frowned. Fleur was not one to dwell in sadness. Fleur's eyes were always dancing. But there was no dance there today.

They both ate quietly, letting the silence spoke for them. Fleur seemed focus on her eggs, and Hermione could not bring herself to start a conversation. There were a million questions in the brunette's head, but she was too afraid to hear the answers. She was too scared to find the truth in her own heart.

"I've made us an appointment with Mildred today," Fleur spoke, breaking the silence. She did not look at Hermione. "As soon as you're ready we're leaving."

Hermione just nodded. Her nearly non-existent appetite was completely gone. Fleur went looking for Mildred yesterday. Came back drunk. And… No. Hermione did not want to think too much. Who was she to get sensitive over something that was none of her business? Who was she to feel hurt? What was there to feel hurt about? No, she decided. She was hurt because she was just afraid something bad had happened to Fleur. That was all.

Hermione took a shower and tried to wash away the negative feelings growing in her heart. The lipstick mark on Fleur's neck. The kiss. Oh god, the kiss. The lipstick mark. The kiss. Fleur's confused expression when Hermione ran away after the kiss. The lipstick mark. The kiss.

Ginny's words came unbidden to mind. Hermione groaned. No. She was an intellectual and logical person. She and Fleur were just friends. There was nothing more. She was just concerned about her friend's wellbeing. Except that she never had the urge to kiss her other female friends. She wanted to taste Fleur's soft lips once more.

Hermione shook her head. Whoever placed this curse upon her was clever. She was now thinking and acting like a bleeding teenager in love.

Grow up, Granger, she scolded herself. The whole idea itself was ridiculous. But why was it ridiculous, she asked herself. She was confused for a moment. Why, indeed, was it ridiculous? Oh yeah, she was not Fleur's type. It was the goddamn blonde and her insufferable teasing that put ideas in Hermione's head.

Hermione dried herself and decided to dress herself in a pair of jeans, a black tee, and her comfortable grey sweater. Fleur could be the fashionista for them both. Especially when the blonde's well-toned legs were wrapped in tight leather pants… Hermione shook her head. She was going insane.

Hermione went outside, where Fleur was waiting, and accepted the blonde's hand. It felt awkward. She immediately released the hand as soon as they reached their destination.

Hermione looked around and was surprised to find themselves at Diagon Alley. The place was still as busy as ever, bustling with activities and filled with people from all walks of life. Fortunately, school was on and it was a weekday. The brunette did not think she'd be able to handle worshipful stares and admiring glances from random strangers. The thought of school children idolizing her made her squirm inside. No wonder Harry never liked to go out often.

"Come, Hermione."

Fleur led her to a shop with a banner reading "Patel & Associates". Inside, Fleur nodded to the receptionist and went straight through one of the three doors. Behind that door was a room filled with what you'd expect from a normal office – desks, chairs, fireplace, books, shelves, and the odd item or two. The room was empty.

"Fleur, where are we?" The place felt like an accountant's office to Hermione.

Fleur grabbed Floo powder from the table next to the fireplace and offered some to Hermione.

"Officially, this is an accounting firm," murmured Fleur, eyes darting around. Hermione frowned at that. Shady things were not her thing. "When I was working with the goblins, sometimes we had to search for hard-to-find people for special consultations. This firm is great at it. Don't ask me how, I myself don't know. As long as they're not hurting anyone, I don't want to know."

They stood in front of the fireplace.

"Just say 'Room ten Pig and Apple Inn'."

Fleur threw the powder which instantly set the fireplace alight, said the destination clearly, and disappeared into the green fire.

Hermione hesitated. She did not like this. It felt like a cloak and dagger mission that reminded her of her seven years spent with Harry and Ron trying to keep the boys alive. Except that this time, Fleur was the one trying to keep her alive.

Hermione threw the powder and followed Fleur into a room where two women were in a conversation. They turned to look at Hermione who dusted herself off and Fleur gave the brunette a little smile. The other woman, a petite, dark-haired woman with an imposing air and piercing stare studied Hermione. The brunette felt uncomfortable and was on the defense immediately.

"You must be Hermione, I am Mildred," the woman sauntered and offered her hand.

Hermione shook it stiffly. She instantly disliked this woman.

"My dear Fleur here was just telling me that you have a little…problem," Mildred nodded to Fleur who shifted uncomfortably. Hermione narrowed her eyes. Fleur was not one who would shift uncomfortably. Fleur was always in control.

"Take a seat, take a seat…"

Hermione took the seat next to Fleur and ensured there was no space between their chairs. She felt aggressively possessive. Mildred must've noticed this, but she only raised an eyebrow and took the chair opposite them both.

"From what Fleur darling described to me, somebody hates you enough to curse you to death," Mildred stared at Hermione, her eyes expressionless. "Tell me, have you tried exorcism?"

Hermione laughed. This woman was ridiculous.

"I am not possessed. If I were, I'd have known the signs," the brunette scoffed. "My memories are clear except when I am drunk, and I know what actions I took every day. I do not have blank, unexplainable periods."

"Exorcism is not only conducted on possession," Mildred said softly, throwing Fleur a glance at the word 'possession'. Hermione narrowed her eyes, furious. "Exorcism is also conducted to ward malevolent spirits as well as expunging negative spirits who are sent to do you harm."

"What proof is there that I am cursed and have an evil spirit who's trying to make me go insane? I am a war survivor – I might be just having traumas," there was anger and bitterness in her voice.

"Hermione…" Fleur said softly, squeezing the brunette's knee gently.

"Don't get me wrong – I have no interest in saving people from curses," Mildred leaned back on her chair. Hermione wanted to rearrange her face and wipe that smirk off. "The only reason why I am even willing to waste my time to discuss this with you is because of sweet Fleur here. How does it feel, Fleur, to have your efforts thrown back at you?"

Hermione was trying to hold back her temper.

"Mildred, please," Fleur warned.

Mildred looked annoyed.

"Since ancient times, curses have been used to destroy one's enemy," Mildred said coolly. "From the Aztecs to the native Americans to the Palaus and even to tribes in South East Asia, those gifted in magic understand the power of curses. Many cultures who still uphold their tradition use curses to inflict damage on another. While the rituals and payment offered vary from culture to culture, they share the same essence: capturing a malevolent spirit and send it off to the victim to do damage."

Hermione kept quiet, still pissed and skeptical.

"Generally, a victim will slowly decay and take his or her own life sooner or later," continued Mildred. "Some, for no reason at all, would start to be unhappy and depressed. They would be mistaken from having a mental illness. Some would be having trouble sleeping as they would incur nightmares every single night, leading them to fall sick and the eventual death. Some, like you, would hear voices at random who try to drive you crazy. If you think this is absurd, aren't creatures of magic and flying on brooms impossible as well?"

Hermione had to admit Mildred had a point.

"Hermione," Fleur said quietly, "Mildred is skilled in getting rid of curses. She won't hurt you, I promise."

"You're always so sweet, Fleur," drawled Mildred. Hermione wanted to punch her.

"But really, I am skilled enough. However, I can't help you."

"What? But Mildred, you said – "

"I know what I said, Fleur darling. But the curse placed on your girl here is ancient and by the looks of it, someone has paid a hefty sum. A blood offering, perhaps? Look, she's already hating me for no reason. The spirit knows it is in danger. I haven't even tried anything yet aside from talking to her."

Hermione started to breathe heavily. Someone was laughing in the background. Someone was crying. The voices were back again, tormenting her. She gripped her head in her hands, trying to control her breathing, trying to control the pounding in her head.

"Fleur, bring her back," Hermione heard Mildred said. "Before I can do anything about it, she must be happier. She's weighed down by unhappiness and confusion, the spirit likes that. Bring her back to me once she is calmer and happier. If you insist on me helping her right now, I'm afraid I'll destroy her. Go now, Fleur."

Hermione felt Fleur carrying her gently. As the exited the room, Mildred gave the blonde a goodbye kiss on the cheek. The brunette growled, startling the two women. Mildred gave her an understanding look.

"You both need to talk about your feelings, Fleur. Don't let this get worse. She's already suffering horribly."

The door closed. The laughter grew louder, drowning everything else.

Then all was black.

Hermione groaned. Her head hurts. But at least the voices were gone. Well, not really. There was a humming. A humming? She opened her eyes and looked into Fleur's warm eyes. The brunette missed that warmth.

"It seems I'm always blacking out," Hermione said weakly.

Fleur gave her a gentle smile. "I'm glad I'm around to catch you."

Predictably, Hermione blushed. She looked away and lied on her back. They were lying on a mattress on the raft in the middle of the lake, with the starry sky spread above.

"How long was I out?"

"Hours."

Fleur turned and lied on her back too, and stared at the skies. She took Hermione's hand and played with it idly.

"Mildred and I were classmates at Beauxbatons," the blonde said. "We were roommates and were very close. You can say she was my first love. But I was not hers. Well, maybe I was too. I don't really know. She's a free spirit, the type that you can't cage. I was blind and refused to understand that. I gave my heart to her, knowing she shared her heart with nobody and with everybody at the same time. I was heartbroken when I found out she was with two others at the same time. She had warned me from the beginning but I would not listen. I went to Triwizard, wanting to nurse my heart. She did not, wanting to explore other people."

Fleur turned her head and looked at Hermione, who decided to observe the skies instead.

"I'm sorry if I was acting cold toward you, it was not my intention to hurt you," the blonde said softly. "It's just that… I've never seen her again after returning from Triwiz – she swapped rooms with another girl and I was busy studying for the exams and right after I came back to England. The hurtful and angry feelings resurfaced when I thought about having to see her again."

"I'm happy that you're both together again," Hermione faked a happy voice. She still could not bring herself to see Fleur and therefore did not see the frown on the blonde's face.

"We're not together again, Hermione. That was the past."

"You're…not?" Hermione dared herself to look at the confused Fleur.

"What made you think that way?"

"But last night you came back drunk and uh… drunk."

For a moment, Fleur looked like she did not understand what Hermione was trying to say. Then, she laughed.

"Was it about the lipstick on my neck? That wasn't Mildred – it was Gaby. Do you remember Gabriella, my sister?" Hermione nodded. "I was in Diagon Alley at Patel's and when after I contacted Mildred and set up an appointment, I came across Gaby and her friends. Naturally, she dragged me out to some clubs without giving me any choice in the matter. She can get quite overprotective so she has this tendency to put a lipstick mark on my neck to warn off people. I can tell you there were so many times I went home alone because she scares off people," Fleur chuckled, reminiscing.

Hermione released a sigh of relieve she did not know she held.

"So you're not with Mildred?"

"How could I, when you're so precious to me?" Fleur's eyes were dancing, reflecting the stars. Hermione felt her stomach tightening.

"I'm glad nothing happened to you, I was just worried because you came home late."

Fleur gave Hermione a sad smile, released her hand, and sat up, back toward the brunette.

"Thank you for worrying about my safety," Fleur sounded disappointed.

Hermione cringed. Did she say something wrong? They were just getting back on good terms.

"Um Fleur, about the other night, I'm sorry I didn't mean to do that," Hermione felt like kicking herself. Why bring up that subject?

Fleur nodded and said rather coolly, "I understand, you were just confused. Don't worry, things happen."

An image of an angry Ginny came to mind. Hermione can imagine what the redhead would lecture her about. She cringed. Feelings. Right. No running from feelings. As if she understood her feelings.

There's a reason I'm in Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw, she mused to herself. Instincts over logics, perhaps?

Hermione sat up and took a deep breath, shaking slightly.

"I mean, I'm sorry for running away. That was cowardly of me."

Fleur turned, surprised. There was a question in her eyes.

Hermione gathered all the courage she could find and inched closer, a hand gently resting against Fleur's cheek. The blonde's eyes were a swirl of emotions, emotions that Hermione could not analyse. Their face drew closer, and Hermione noticed there was a small scar hidden at Fleur's left eyebrow. Was that from the war? Or Triwizard? Or during childhood when children were ignorant of mortal perils?

When their lips touched, Hermione felt an electric shock flowing through her body. Her stomach was jolting from nervousness, anticipation, and panicking. Fleur's hands pushed her into the blonde further, leaving no space behind. No more running and hiding. Not from this one, at least. The saccharine taste of Fleur made the brunette wanted more. She felt alive. She felt like she could soar amongst the stars. When Fleur gently bit her lower lip, she groaned and wanted to wrestle Kronos to control time.

Breathing heavily, Hermione looked into Fleur's eyes. They were dancing, dancing with gentleness and a fire.

She liked it.