I'm extremely grateful to the continual support that I'm receiving, knowing that you guys are enjoying this story as much as I'm enjoying writing this!
On a quick note, to the reviewer that noted that Gabrielle may be a tad young to have a child (although 16/17 isn't a particularly shocking age to have kids in England - whether that's a good or bad thing is another issue), that is entirely my fault for forgetting she's about ten years younger than Fleur, I hadn't realised the extent of the age gap previously, so I hope I can use my writer's privilege and assume that Gabrielle is a few years older than she would really be :)
Thanks to all for reading and reviewing!
Would there ever just be honesty between them? Constant lies, white lies, blatant lies, lies to each other, lies to themselves, full lies, half lies, truth tempered with lies. But to speak the truth would expose them to consequences. One more lie. She smiled shakily, placing the glass of wine down, hiding her face momentarily.
"Wine just smells like wine to me, I think I'm too old to learn to appreciate it now."
Fleur replied with a weak smile of her own. If she didn't smile now, she wouldn't be able to stop the tears if they started. Suddenly it was all a mistake. Inviting Hermione to dinner was a mistake. Moving to Britain was a mistake, accepting the job had been a mistake. Having met Hermione had been a mistake. At this moment, all she wanted was Hermione to leave, to never set her eyes on the Englishwoman ever again. But even as those feelings threatened to overwhelm her, a treacherous part of her panicked at the thought of never seeing those brown eyes again, to never hear that voice again.
"Come. If you can't appreciate wine, I at least hope you'll be able to appreciate my food. The house elves weren't too 'appy when I wanted to make a mess in their kitchen, but once they knew that it was for you, they couldn't 'ave been more obliging. They vie to make your food you know? After all that you 'ave done for them, they can't do enough for you," stated Fleur, trying to keep her voice steady as she moved, taking in a deep breath through gritted teeth as she turned away from the brunette, sitting on a chair at the table.
Hermione hesitated briefly before following, a heavy feeling in her heart, both feeling the lie lingering between them.
"I didn't do anything for them that they shouldn't have been entitled to from the beginning, I just managed to get it down in writing. Plus after their contribution in the war, I think people finally saw that they were beings just like the rest of us, not just indentured servants, so there wasn't much resistance."
"There was enough resistance that it made the 'eadlines, even in France." Fleur tried to just concentrate on the conversation at hand, trying not to think about anything else.
"I said there wasn't much resistance, not that there wasn't any. But there's always resistance to any change." Even when you want the change, there's even resistance within yourself. "Besides, it was short lived, their arguments were poorly constructed and had no real basis. The house elves deserved to have their rights enshrined in wizarding law, and I was just happened to be a position to be able to help with that," Hermione shrugged.
"You've made considerable progression since…what was that elf rights group you founded when you were a student? I cannot remember the name of it."
"The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare," laughed Hermione self-consciously. "Not the most successful thing I did."
"I disagree. You took those ideals and eventually managed to get them put into law, I would say that was rather successful! Mais, it doesn't matter what you say, the 'ouse elves are very grateful to you. I 'ope you are ok with the food, although it would most likely be tastier if I had let the 'ouse elves make it! To start with we 'ave abricot Chambord brie."
Beautiful golden pastries appeared in front of the women, the glaze drizzled over the pastries and along the side of the china plate. Hermione took a bite of the puff pastry with some filling, enjoying the caramelised flavours of the apricots and apples mixing with the soft, warm brie, the pecans giving the starter some variation in texture.
"Mmmm…this is delicious! Wait, did you say you made this?"
"Oui. I'm glad you're it enjoying, I was worried the brie may be too rich for you," replied Fleur, pleased with her efforts as she took a bite herself.
Hermione took another mouthful, chewing slowly and thoughtfully.
"I don't know why it always surprises me that you can cook, despite knowing that you can. I suppose you just don't strike me as someone who cooks, never mind someone who cooks so well! Is there anything you don't do well Fleur?" she teased, spearing another piece with her fork.
"If it is just for me, I'd rather not bother and just have cereal or toast, but when there is someone to cook for, I feel far more motivated. It is gratifying knowing that someone enjoys the food that I made. "
"Well, I'm really enjoying this. Fleur…"
"Oui?"
"Thank you," the look of gratitude in Hermione's eyes soothed some of Fleur's early panic.
"You 'ave to stop thanking me, dinner is nothing. A break in the routine for me too." She reached out to cover the brunette's hand with her own, quickly changing her mind at the last minute, grabbing hold of her glass of wine instead. Lies are not always in the words, some lies are in our actions. "You ready for the next course?"
"Yes, I'm excited to see what you made."
Two clean plates appeared in front of the women along with clean, glistening cutlery. Multiple dishes appeared between them, all emanating enticing smells.
"We 'ave moules marinières, risotto de potimarron et parmesan, filet de bar frais sur puree de pois et coulis de poivron rouge and salade verte. Please, 'elp yourself."
"Fleur, how many people did you intend on feeding?"
Fleur shrugged nonchalantly, a pink tinge high on her cheekbones giving away her embarrassment.
"I always believe that too much is better than too little. Besides," she glanced at Hermione, a faint grin on her face, "I wasn't sure what you wanted to eat, so I made a selection."
"Well it all looks amazing! A little eclectic, but amazing."
"Merci. Well, I think a toast is required," she replied, raising her glass of wine. "May the future be brighter. For both of us." Hermione paused briefly, a peculiar look in her eyes, before clinking her glass of water against the wine glass.
"A votre santé Fleur," the English witch said quietly.
"Cheers Hermione," replied the blonde.
Both women were quiet for a couple of minutes as they tried all the dishes, Hermione's mmms and ahhhs of approval making Fleur laugh to herself.
"This is all delicious, I don't even know what I like most. The butternut squash risotto is superbly tasty as is the sea bass and mussels. Perhaps you should forget teaching and take up cooking instead! What's that with the sea bass, the pureed thing? Tastes like peas."
"Pureed creamed peas."
"Who knew the humble pea could be so delicious? It's official, you have the Hermione Granger seal of approval!" Hermione goofily gave her an enthusiastic thumbs up, making Fleur laugh loudly.
"Merci beaucoup. I shall resign from teaching and with your seal of approval, I will take the culinary world by storm," she said seriously, eyes twinkling playfully.
"They'd be lucky to have you. Anyone would…"she trailed off, suddenly becoming extremely interested in her risotto.
You could have me Hermione, I would be the lucky one.
"So, 'ave you thought about who at the Daily Prophet is targeting you? The Prophet is not the most accurate paper admittedly, but the stuff about you recently 'as been malicious, and the writer 'as been anonymous. Do you think it may be that Skeeter woman, the one who wrote all that rubbish at the Triwizard Tournament?" asked Fleur, steering the conversation from dangerous waters.
"Rita Skeeter knows that it wouldn't be worth her career if she wrote malicious things about my friends or me."
Fleur looked at Hermione in askance.
"Don't ask. She just knows I wouldn't put up with any idle gossip from her."
"You need to be careful, this person really does not like you. That photograph of Ginevra, they're keeping a close eye on things."
"I know, but what can I really do? It'll blow over once they get bored. I really don't want to talk about that right now if you don't mind, this is my escape. Let's talk about something else. Do you enjoying being a teacher?"
"Oui. It's...rewarding. Also frustrating, headache inducing, coupled with occasions where I want to transfigure some of the students into small rodents. But I do love it. Strange to think that I'd never considered it before! And you?"
"I feel pretty much the same as you do. I'd never really considered it either before Professor McGonagall offered me the position, which makes me wonder why she thought I'd be interested. But it's very satisifying when you see things clicking in the students' brains...it wasn't that long ago when that was me sat there. Why did you take the job?"
"I'll tell you if you tell me why you took the job. From what I read you've had successful career after successful career."
Fleur saw the brunette reach out for her glass of wine, before changing her mind and taking the glass of water instead.
"I'd hardly say a couple of years in each job constitutes as a career, but it's true, I did fairly well in each of them. But...there was...it's silly...I don't know how to say it," she faltered, taking a drink of water.
"You're many things 'ermione, but silly isn't one of the words I'd used to describe you. Just say what you want to say, I promise I won't tell the Daily Prophet," she smirked. Hermione rolled her eyes, smiling in return.
"The job in the Ministry...I thought I would be able to change things, help people, make a difference to their lives...and I did, to a small degree. But there was so much bureaucracy for each single tiny change, so much fighting and red tape, too many powerful people with big egos and small minds. I'd already had my fill of fighting, I just didn't have the appetite or desire for more of it. Within an hour of handing in my resignation, I had a job offer from Barriers which I took, they'd apparently kept an eye out for me. And the job was good, I was able to research and create as much as I liked, as long as it was to complete the client's wish, I had a great team of people to work with, the money was generous, but it just lacked...it lacked heart. It was fairly important work, a lot of defense work for private clients as well as the ministry, but just wasn't for me, the work felt so cold and meticulous. I realise it's silly giving up such a well paid job because of a feeling-"
"I don't think that it's silly. You should be passionate about what you do."
"Well that's my reason. Your turn."
I thought that if I was in the same country as you, I'd eventually build up the courage to find you again. Even if I did tell myself that I would never seek you out. "I was just floating around, travelling, aimlessly, when I was owled the position. After my job at Gringotts, I went back to France and became a banker, an investment banker at that!" she laughed. "Can you imagine me as a banker?"
Hermione's mind instantly conjured up an image of Fleur dressed as a stereotypical muggle banker, in a tailored pinstripped suit, crisp white blouse, hair bound tightly in a neat chignon, a sleek case in hand, an image that was not aesthetically unpleasing.
"The goblins in Paris were no more friendly than the ones in Gringotts, and investment banking, well...a job better suited to the souless dementors. After a few years, I resigned and just travelled, tried to think about what I wanted to do with my life. If I had not been offered the position, I may still be travelling around."
"Well...for what it's worth, I'm...I'm glad you took the job," Hermione replied, eyes unwavering, a tiny smile on her face.
And suddenly there was hope.
"I'm glad I took the job too 'ermione." Fleur took a sip of her wine, her body remembering the touch of it on her skin. She looked away, afraid of her eyes giving her away.
Hermione's delighted laughter made her look back in surprise. Seeing the cake at the end of the table made Fleur smile, remembering the multiple attempts she had needed earlier to bake it successfully.
"Ah, that is the fondant aux poires et au gingembre. I'm not too 'opeful about that one, I don't think baking is one of my natural skills!"
"I'm absolutely stuffed already! But I do love pears and ginger," sighed Hermione, patting her flat stomach. Fleur glanced at the table, blinking in astonishment at the little food that remained, looking at Hermione with a raised eyebrow.
"Don't look at me with such accusatory eyes Delacour, you put away a fair amount yourself! Good food and good company, does wonders for your appetite," laughed Hermione.
"For someone who is English, you understand a lot of French," noted Fleur, poking at the cake critically with a fork.
Hermione was glad Fleur was too distracted to see her blush, remembering all the hours she had taken private French lessons.
"I've spent many summers in France, my parents loved the country, they planned – I mean, they plan to retire there," her expression clouding over briefly at the thought of her parents.
Fleur looked up from her cake, deliberately keeping her voice neutral.
"'ave you made any more progress with you famille?"
"In all honesty, I've been too afraid to. I've not contacted them since I started working here." Fleur watched Hermione's features tighten, heart constricting in sympathy. She reached out, squeezing Hermione's forearm.
"What is there to be afraid of ma chéri? You said that they are not angry at you and don't blame you for anything." Fleur hoped Hermione wouldn't notice the endearment that had slipped out before she realised what had happened.
"I'm afraid if I try and push things, I won't even have what I have at the moment. There's no logical reason behind that, I know they love me, but I'm terrified of seeing them. It's so awkward. We used to be so close, but now the gulf between us is…vast. It's like suddenly I'm not the same person they knew, I'm suddenly a stranger that lived and loved them. But I am the same person, I'm still their daughter," she finished flatly, eyes averted.
"'ave you tried telling them this?"
"No. I just don't know how to."
"'ow much do they actually know about the wizarding world 'ermione?"
"Hardly anything."
"'ave you thought about bringing them closer, to show them more about the world we live in? You 'ave each foot in completely different worlds, and that can't comfortable. It may 'elp them understand better, and you can show them the other side of you, the magical side of you," the blonde suggested softly, unable to comprehend a life in which her family did not completely support her.
"Yes, maybe. That's a good idea, I can't avoid them forever. Anyway, come one, I want to try the cake you made!" Hermione declared, forcing joviality into her voice. Fleur remained silent, not wanting to press the matter any further. She cut them both small slices, arranging them tidily onto small plates before handing Hermione one.
Fleur looked at the slice dubiously before taking a bite, pulling a face as she chewed. She glanced at Hermione, laughing as she saw Hermione grimacing before trying to readjust her features to a more neutral expression.
"You don't 'ave to be polite 'ermione, c'est terrible," she grinned, poking at the cake despondently, trying to figure out what had gone wrong.
"It's not terrible," she chuckled as Fleur looked at her disbelievingly, "It's not. It's just incredibly rich. I feel like I've just taken a mouthful of sugar encased in icing sugar!"
"The terrible taste and plus it has a terrible texture, I don't know how to describe it in English-"
"Claggy," replied Hermione, reddening at the fact that she responded too quickly, making Fleur laugh again.
"Oui, it is. Clag-gy? Claggy," she repeated, uncertain of the pronunciation. "'ave you just made up that word Professor Granger?" she smiled, relieved to hear Hermione laugh.
"No I haven't Professor Delacour! It means stickily, adhesively. The texture of your cake when you eat it really," she smirked. Fleur deigned to reply, instead throwing a piece of cake at Hermione, giggling when it hit her in the forehead.
"I refuse to stoop to your level Fleur," grinned Hermione, acting very much the offended nobility as she wiped her forehead with her napkin.
"Ah, you were always the better person than me. In penance, I will tidy up, go take a seat by the fire and I will bring you some dessert wine."
"No, no, let me tidy up, you cooked, it's only fair for me to tidy!"
"Go sit 'ermione, you are my guest," replied Fleur, gesturing to the seats be the fire. "Besides, I did attack you with food," she smirked.
Curled up on Fleur's armchair, in front of the fire, warm and full, she drowsily watched Fleur tidy up the plates, using magic to clean to table. It was a small task, but the French witch's actions were tidy and precise, her wand work comforting to watch. Suddenly all the poor nights' sleep that she had that week caught up with her. She would just close her eyes momentarily.
Fleur covered her with a woollen blanket. Hermione finally looked relaxed and peaceful, the dark shadows under her eyes reflecting the troubles that she did not want to talk about. Fleur sat in the chair opposite her, drinking the family wine that she had opened accidently earlier on in the evening, eyes focused on the younger woman. She could taste the wine, the hint of memories in its flavour and she could see the lies that they told each other to protect each other, to protect themselves. Watching the woman that she loved sleep, she had never ever felt so lonely.