Hi everyone! I'm sorry to be late, but it's better late than never, right? Been having a hectic week. It seems that the nearer to Christmas it is, the busier life becomes.
Anyway, here's the next chapter. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter.
It had been three hours since Fleur walked out of the room. The house was silent. Hermione had not moved from her spot, still staring at the ceilings, a jumble of thoughts running through her mind. She was sure by now Fleur had gone with her things. Hermione had driven the blonde away, and now there was nothing the brunette could do to rectify the situation. Like everyone else, Fleur had finally had enough with Hermione's 'weird situation'. But unlike the rest, the blonde was the one who walked away, instead of Hermione that made herself scarce.
It's your fault, the small voice in Hermione's mind said, you were the one that walked out of their lives.
And it was true. Hermione did not give the chance to anyone to understand her, to help with her problems. Time and time again, the brunette pushed people away and built impenetrable walls. She hid her feelings, hid her heart.
Hermione raised her palms and stared at them, frowning. Where had she gone wrong? What had she become?
She sighed and closed her eyes. She jogged her memories and traced back her life from the first day she stepped on Hogwarts' hallowed grounds. What changed her? And what had she changed from? In essence, she was still Hermione Granger. Her mind still contained a wealth of knowledge absorbed from various sources. She was still an intelligent witch, just like she had been ages ago. True, her stance on adhering to the rules to the letter had changed, but she preferred to call it 'maturity', having gone through so much and learned that sometimes, rules had to be broken to achieve what was necessary. Hermione was certain she was still a caring person. She would still defend her friends from evil, would she not? Since there was no Voldemort number two threatening the world, there was no need for her to take arms.
Yet, she felt she had changed into someone she did not recognize. She was a coward. She was a muggleborn Gryffindor who survived Bellatrix's tortures and helped brought down Voldemort, yet could not (or perhaps would not) let anyone in to her heart. Not Harry or Ron, who were her comrades and oldest friends. Not Ginny, her only female best friend. Not even Fleur, whom she had feelings for.
Ah, feelings. A simple yet terrifying word. A word that both liberates and chains a person. How wonderful. Not. It took her quite a while, but Hermione begrudgingly accepted the fact that her heart had some feelings for Fleur. Which made the brunette's life much more complicated than it should be. Because Fleur Delacour was beautiful; Fleur Delacour was brilliant; Fleur Delacour was gentle; Fleur Delacour was warm; Fleur Delacour was patient; Fleur Delacour was a being that should have never crossed paths with one such as Hermione.
But Fleur frightened Hermione. The blonde had this power to wiggle through the cracks in Hermione's walls and slip inside without the brunette noticing until it was too late. Whenever Fleur looked into Hermione's eyes, it was as if the blonde was able to look straight into the brunette's heart. Hermione found it difficult to hide anything. What if one day Fleur finally able to see every single thing in Hermione's heart and walked away immediately?
It was the same fear that kept Hermione from looking for her parents. How would they react when they realised their only child took away their cherished memories of her? Even though Hermione could claim it was for their safety, what parent would be happy with it?
It was also the same fear that kept Hermione from letting her friends know that she was struggling with life. Would they still love and respect her after knowing how screwed up she was inside? She knew she was not fully accepted by her friends. The only reason why she was considered as their friend was because she was Harry's friend who helped to defeat Voldemort.
Hermione sighed. How she wished she was just an ordinary muggle with ordinary problems. Trying to find a job, maybe. Or paying rent. Or deciding which political party to vote for.
She sat and shook her head. Enough with the morose thoughts. If what Mildred said was true, then she should at least not be as miserable as she usually was. Although truth be told, Hermione would not be surprised if Mildred was actually right.
Hermione dragged herself to the jetty, to the lake. Her safe refuge, although not as perfect as in Fleur's arms. She sighed again. Dare she contact Fleur after this?
At the door, Hermione stopped. A familiar figure was lying on her back on the jetty next to the raft. Hermione stared disbelievingly at the sight of a certain blonde gazing at the skies, the breeze playfully blowing her blonde hair.
Heart thumping, Hermione slowly approached the figure, praying earnestly that it was not a trick playing on her mind. She knelt in front of the figure who silently watched her and hesitantly touched the figure's forehead with the tips of her fingers.
"You did not leave," Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.
"It's not in my plan, Hermione."
Hermione gingerly sat next to Fleur, keeping some distance. The blonde did not walk away like she had thought. Fleur was merely out of the house, not out of her life. That thought cheered her up amidst the anxiety.
"What is your plan then, Fleur?" Hermione finally asked after a moment of comfortable silence.
"To stay," Fleur said simply.
Hermione looked at her, asking for more explanation.
"When I first saw you at Ginny's party after such a long time, I had this urge to talk to you and get to know you better. I know we were never friends before but that night, all I wanted was to hold your attention. But you were always with someone, your attention occupied. When you ran away from my apartment the next morning, I felt so miserable and so lost. I recognized that feeling – that I was being like a foolish teenager pining for her crush. When I accidentally came here after Ginny's wedding, I knew I had to take matters into my own hands if I don't want you to disappear again. So I decided to stay. And I will stay. Because I want to."
Hermione was speechless. That was not what she expected at all. The genuine honesty in Fleur's eyes frightened Hermione more than the brunette would like to admit. Was Fleur insane? There was nothing that the brunette could possibly offer to make the blonde felt that way. Hermione drew her knees together to her chest and hugged herself. She stared at the horizon, watching the birds flew across the evening skies.
"I am damaged, Fleur," Hermione whispered, ashamed. Oh, how her childhood self would weep to see her present condition. "I am jobless, unsociable, nearly friendless, quite insane, and the only thing that keeps me financially afloat is the money from the award for my part in the war which I selfishly keep instead of donating to charity."
"I am loaded enough," shrugged Fleur. "Plus, who in our generation is not damaged? We are all affected by the war, one way or another. Voldemort's atrocities reached even the far corners of the world, even though his focus was on Britain. If I want someone who is totally undamaged, I'll have to wait for a couple more generations because the next generation will still be affected somewhat by their parents' generation, which is us."
"You know what I mean, Fleur," Hermione said tiredly. "I am losing my mind, whether I want to admit it or not."
Fleur sat and placed her palm on Hermione's chin gently, forcing the brunette to look into the blonde's intense eyes.
"You are not losing your mind," Fleur said firmly. "We will get whoever did this to you and I swear I will strangle the person with my own bare hands."
Hermione was at a loss for words. She shrugged Fleur's hand off and stared into the waters. Fleur sighed and returned to lying on her back.
"I'm sorry for my behaviour," Hermione apologised in a small voice. "I shouldn't have been rude."
"It wasn't your fault. You were just stressed out. I shouldn't have pushed you to see Mildred when you're not ready yet. And I shouldn't push my feelings onto you."
Hermione cringed internally. She did not blame Fleur for being confused. Come to think of it, Hermione was acting as if she was just emotional about the whole thing, never telling Fleur how she actually felt.
"Fleur, I… I'm sorry for not being clear," the brunette said nervously. "I didn't mean to confuse you or mislead you. I… I meant that kiss. I like you a lot."
Fleur was silent. Hermione did not dare to turn her head to look at the blonde.
"I've been afraid," Hermione continued. "I was afraid you only kissed me back because you didn't want to hurt my feelings. I was also afraid of my own feelings. I was afraid that I was having feelings for you. I mean, why me? You could have someone better, with more – "
Hermione could not finish her sentence, as Fleur's lips were upon hers. It was gentle and chaste, full of understanding, devotion, and a hint of yearning.
"I'm sorry for losing my temper," Fleur murmured, her warm eyes dancing lovingly. Hermione swore she was melting into those eyes.
"I'm not fragile, Fleur," replied Hermione, smiling shyly. "I'd rather you tell me how you feel than treat me as if I might break at any time."
"Only if you're willing to tell me how you feel too," the blonde teased gently.
Hermione nodded hesitantly, and Fleur noticed this.
"Take your time, don't rush," the blonde said.
They lied on the jetty, with Hermione's head resting on Fleur's shoulder. They stared at the orange evening skies, the sun lazily taking its sweet time to go to its next destination.
"I am jobless, Fleur," Hermione whispered, listening to Fleur's steady breaths. "I quit the Ministry right before I disappeared to here."
"Everyone knows that, Hermione," Fleur said gently. "It was quite a big shock that the Golden Girl quit the Ministry. For nearly a month the Daily Prophet wouldn't stop writing articles about it, making wild speculations from you starting your own political party to carving out your own kingdom in the middle of Britain to creating a new cult with massive orgies. "
Hermione chuckled.
"The last one was a close one," the brunette mused. "The orgies, I mean, not the cult. There's no way I'd add more unnecessary responsibilities on myself."
"Would I be given an invitation if you hold orgy parties?" Fleur asked in a light tone.
"No way, everybody would focus on you instead of me the host!"
"Except I would be focusing on you," Fleur murmured and stole a kiss from Hermione's lips.
The brunette cursed Fleur internally for making her blush again.
"You are so cheesy the cows are jealous," grumbled Hermione, eliciting laughter from the blonde. "Anyway, I told Ginny and Harry that I've been working as some sort of secret agent for some government."
"Well, they did mention that your current work is politically sensitive and secret," Fleur said. "It's not a lie, though. If the world finds out your current predicament, depending on who sent those soul killers, it could lead to an international political nightmare."
"And...when did you realise I'm jobless?"
"When I came here, my dear. It's quite obvious, really. There's no usual tell-tale of a working person – workplace footwear, the random books, documents, or notes with information one would only bother to read because of employment, work handbags… Plus you did not seem concerned about what day it was and whether you were late for work or not."
"You did not find it odd?"
Fleur shrugged. "You have your secrets, I have mine. You will tell me when you want to. As I said before, I'm loaded enough so if I sense you're destitute in any way, I can afford things for the both of us."
"Fleur, that's your money, you don't have to do that," Hermione said gently.
"Exactly – that's my money. I can do what I want with it, non?"
Hermione sighed. She sometimes underestimated Fleur's stubbornness.
"Besides," continued the blonde, "I don't want to be full of regrets on my deathbed. I knew I have feelings for you and I just want to put a smile on your face. Money does not matter, not after what I've been through. I want to be happy too. If it means spoiling you with gifts and cuddles, I'll do that. I'm happy when you're happy."
Hermione was rendered speechless again. Here was a person whom she thought was aloof, cold, and rather heartless but apparently unafraid to be in touch with her own heart. Unlike Hermione, Fleur actually learned to live life as if there was no tomorrow from the war. Fleur managed to follow her heart. Hermione was still trapped by her mind.
"Does that bother you?" Fleur asked gently.
"No," Hermione shook her head. "Not really. I'm just…amazed that you follow your heart, not your mind."
Fleur laughed.
"Oh, but I do follow my mind too, Hermione. I just decide which feelings of my heart that I want to follow. My heart likes you. I decide to follow. My mind thinks of things of which to make you happy. I decide to follow that as well."
Hermione did not know how to answer that and pulled Fleur tighter in her arms.
"It's my turn, I think," Fleur said softly. The skies were getting darker. "After the divorce, I cut off contact with my family with the exceptions of my sister. No particular reason, except that I felt suffocated. My family is full of love and kindness, don't get me wrong, but I don't know how to explain it. Wait, I lie. My family believes that you should only marry you true love and that marriage lasts forever. Understandably, they were unhappy with my divorce with Bill. My parents insisted that I must do everything to prevent my ex from walking off to meditate in the mountains."
Hermione shifted and looked at Fleur, whose expression was grim.
"No matter how much both Bill and I explained to my family, they would not accept that I would be the first in the family's long history to get a divorce. Never mind the fact that Bill was struggling with his inner demons and did not even have the energy to deal with a failing relationship. Never mind the fact that I myself has changed, that I, like Bill, understood that there's nothing we could do to salvage our marriage, that countless times I nearly lost it when both my parents and Molly asked when the hell would we give them grandchildren. So after the divorce, I refused to see my parents and they till now have no idea where I live. I did not tell Gabrielle for fear they might force her to spill, but from time to time I do meet my sister. I just… I just wanted them to support me instead of being harsh about it."
Fleur gave Hermione a small smile and kissed the brunette's forehead.
"They knew the war affected me, but they still think that I can just dust myself off, get up on my feet, and walk cheerfully again as if nothing happened. It's a good thing I cut off contact, because my sister told me they were looking for healers and therapists and whatnots to try to bring me and my ex together."
"Is divorce such a bad thing to your family?"
Fleur nodded.
"Yes. They can be a die-hard romantic at times, but that is not necessarily a good thing. I've got cousins whose marriages were arranged and are unhappy but they can't do a thing about it for fear both sides would be looked down by the society. They believe in the notion that Veela mate for life but that's just a legend, a fairy tale, meant to make us look like better lovers in other people's eyes. You love who you love, and just like you can't help who you fall for, you also can't help when the feelings just fade away without warning, without rhyme and reason."
Hermione was thankful her parents would not meddle with her love life.
Well, it's not that they won't, but they can't, since they don't even know you exist, she thought gloomily.
"I haven't searched for my parents," Hermione admitted, sighing. "I don't want them to see what kind of person I've become. I don't think I can deal to see disappointment, sadness and regret in their eyes. I don't think they can handle the fact that I'm now… broken."
Fleur wrapped her arms around Hermione, giving comfort.
"We'll get rid of the soul killers soon, Hermione. Then after that, when you're ready, we'll go and hunt for your parents. I'll be with you and I promise you everything will be okay."
Hermione nodded. She wanted to hope, to believe, but her situation was just too hopeless. But it was nice to dream of it.
"Thank you, Fleur, I appreciate it."
"It's a pleasure, Hermione, it's my pleasure," the blonde murmured. "Anyway, we should limit our daily sad talks. This negativity will just be hurting you more and you deserve happiness. So, what would you like to do for your birthday?"
Hermione's mind went blank. Birthday? She frowned, trying hard to remember. Fleur released her embrace and tilted Hermione's chin to look into the blonde's eyes.
"Don't tell me you don't remember the concept of birthdays?" teased Fleur gently.
"I do know what a birthday is," Hermione swatted Fleur's arm playfully. "Um what's the date today? I have no idea. It's been a long time since I need to know the dates and days of the week."
Fleur chuckled. "It's your birthday tomorrow, silly."
Hermione blinked. Time had flown so quickly. Then she was hit by a realization.
"Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed in horror. "I've totally forgotten everybody's birthdays! I did not wish Harry and Ginny happy birthdays! And I don't even know when your birthday is, Fleur! Merlin, I'm such a horrible friend and an equally horrible girlfriend – wait, am I your girlfriend?"
Fleur laughed. "Only if I'm yours." Her eyes were dancing in mirth.
Hermione felt her heart soared. Fleur was telling her explicitly that she could call the blonde as hers. Hers. That was…a nice feeling. To be wanted by someone whom she wanted badly. Hermione looked into Fleur's warm ones and knew the blonde hid nothing from her. Such perfection willingly traversed the murky waters of Hermione's life and found it lovely enough to stay. The brunette suddenly regretted not memorizing beautiful love poems. Offering them to Fleur at times like these would be perfect.
"I… I don't know what to say," Hermione managed. She truly did not know how to respond to Fleur's words. She was overjoyed, nervous, and slightly scared of the possibilities.
"You don't have to say anything, silly," Fleur murmured, capturing Hermione's lips in hers.
The brunette found herself grinning rather shyly. She could get used to this.
"I don't know what you see in me, but I'll do my best to make you happy," promised Hermione. Fleur deserved it. A woman willing enough to bear with the brunette's troubles deserved a perfect world.
"I see a beautiful soul, Hermione," Fleur replied earnestly, "and it would bring me great joy if you allow me to make you happy."
Hermione blushed. One of these days she'd get diabetes from Fleur's sweet words. She bet Fleur would taste as sweet too. That thought brought all the heat to her face.
Goddamn it woman, get your mind out of the gutter! Hermione kicked herself mentally.
Fortunately, the object of her momentary perversion did not realise what was going on in her head.
"Well, so um, when is your birthday, Fleur? I am so sorry to not even know it," Hermione changed topic quickly to prevent herself from blurting out embarrassing thoughts. She had been so self-absorbed that she disregarded people's special days. It was a wonder that Harry and Ginny had not murdered her yet, and marveled at the redhead's self control for not demanding a birthday present. Perhaps they instinctively knew that Hermione was struggling with her inner self. The next time she went to their place, she would bring a belated birthday present for them both, Hermione promised to herself. They had been very patient with her. The least she could do was to remember their special days.
"Now, now, that would be telling," Fleur grinned mischievously. "I know you like mystery, so I'd rather you figure it out for yourself. But you can't try to figure it out until after your birthday, because I want you to enjoy it to the fullest."
"But – "
"Not buts," Fleur placed a finger on Hermione's lips, preventing the brunette from protesting. "If you have nothing specific in mind, would it be alright for me to plan something for you?"
Suddenly Hermione was nervous. And a little bit excited. It had been a long time since someone wanted to organize something for her birthday.
"I promise it will be fun, relaxing, and does not involve a million people," Fleur said gently.
"Okay," Hermione said hesitantly. "But don't make me dress up."
"It's a deal then."
For the first time since ages, Hermione was looking forward to a tomorrow.
She could not stop grinning.