A/N Hope you enjoy.
Chapter 7 A Few Home Truths
Fleur stood in the doorway to the bedroom and her eyes followed Hermione for a moment, the young witch was slowly searching the bedroom for something. The injured young witch was getting increasingly frustrated, she knew that Fleur was watching her from the doorway and so stubbornly she refused to ask for help. Hermione turned toward the bathroom and gingerly began stepping in that direction, she had arrived here fully clothed so she knew that her clothes had to be around here somewhere.
The French witch sighed as she watched Hermione shuffle towards the bathroom, the young witch was clearly in pain, her face was flushed from the small amount of exertion it had taken her to hunt for her clothing, but she was stubborn as hell and pressed on through it. Fleur remained silent, given a couple more minutes she would not even need to state her argument, Hermione's body was doing it for her! Hermione had made it into the bathroom and Fleur stepped into that doorway, leaned against the door jamb and folded her arms across her chest and noted that the young witch's face was flushed, there was sweat on her forehead and she was now moving very slowly, Fleur concluded that it was time to speak up before the young witch did herself some real damage.
"'Ermione, what are you doing?" she asked trying to keep her voice as neutral as possible. Hermione ignored her and continued over to the sink, she had clearly decided that she would mask how much she was struggling under the premise of washing her face and she leaned against the sink as she waited for it so slowly fill with water. "'Ermione?" Fleur asked again, she was determined not to let this go.
Hermione spun around and had to put her hand out to steady herself, she closed her eyes taking a deep breath trying to quiet her body which was screaming out in pain, her eyes flew open and she glared at Fleur, "What do you think I am doing?" the young witch spat, "There is a war on! We don't have time for me to sit here and have a nap! My friends are dying and I have information that could stop that. NOW GIVE ME MY CLOTHES." Her voice had risen to a below and the anger was plain on her face as she waited for Fleur's response.
Fleur raised an eyebrow, "What is et zat you zink you will accomplish in zis state, hmm? Think zis through 'Ermione." She implored the young witch. Fleur could already tell that she was not getting her message through to the stubborn young witch and sighed rubbing her temples, she had a headache. There was the faint flutter of panic in Fleur's chest as she met Hermione's angry glare, "My clothes Fleur, unless it is your intention to keep me here against my will," she said in a cold voice. Fleur visibly wilted at hearing these words, she could not hold Hermione here against her will or surely that would make her no better than they Death Eaters who had held her at Malfoy Manor. She sighed and walked back into the bedroom pulling Hermione's clothes out of one of the dresser drawers where she had neatly stored them after cleaning and repairing them as Hermione had slept.
Hermione had followed Fleur back into the bedroom, her anger seemed to make it easier for her to push through the pain, the stubborn young witch then took the clothes from Fleur and laid them on the bed. Hermione leaned against the foot of the bed to keep her balance and attempted to pull the nightshirt that she was wearing over her head. At her first attempt she cried out as a whole new set of muscles, aches and pains announced their unhappiness in the form of pain. Hermione took a deep breath and slowly attempted the manoeuvre again and was again disappointed to tone that the pain in her back and shoulder would not allow her to complete the simple task of getting undressed. A groan of pain and frustration escaped her lips and she reluctantly turned to Fleur with imploring eyes, unable to voice her request.
Fleur smiled at her friend comfortingly, but made no move to help her, "where are you going to go?" she asked instead. Hermione sighed and sat down on the bed, "I told you, Dumbledore gave Harry, Ron and I a mission, Now that Harry's..." she paused for a moment unable to finish her thought, "well the mission still needs to be completed, the war is fruitless without it and they don't even know!" the desperation was plain in Hermione's voice and Fleur could tell that she really wanted to aid in the war effort no matter the cost, "'Ermione, I agree that if you 'ave information vital to the order then you should share et with zem, I just do not zink zat et is anything that needs to be done right zis moment. Please I am asking you, allow your body some time to 'eal and recover, I will 'elp you wiz zis mission, I will take you to ze order, once you 'ave 'ealed." Fleur was practically begging at this point. Hermione glared at her defiantly, pushed herself to her feet and forced the nightshirt over her head. As she completed the move she felt something within her shoulder tear, "Shit!" she cried out as she winced and dropped the shirt.
It took every ounce of Fleur's self restraint not to rush over to assist Hermione, to avoid instantly taking away the pain, to comfort her, because she wanted her to see what a struggle her life was going to be if she left before she allowed herself to heal. Hermione's face had turned deathly pale and fear flashed through her eyes, suddenly Fleur knew that something was very wrong and she stepped towards her. Dropping to her knees beside the suffering young witch Fleur noted that same musky scent in the air, it was not so much coming from Hermione as it was surrounding her, all the same it made Fleur stiffen as she knew trouble was coming.
As soon as Fleur had dropped to her knees beside Hermione, the young witch reached out and grabbed her hand, using the skin to skin touch to try and ground herself so that she could raise her walls. She tried to focus, but the pain in her shoulder was too much of a distraction, she cold now barely use her left arm and she silently thanked Circe for the fact that it was not her wand arm.
Fleur could tell that something was terribly wrong, more than just the re-tearing of the rotator cuff that she had managed to partially heal while Hermione had been resting, she squeezed Hermione's hand and felt the young witch squeeze back despite not having her attention. Fleur did the only thing she could think to do, hold onto the hand that had grabbed hers and try to soothe Hermione by stroking her head and offering her reassurances. The now very pale witch took a deep breath, leaned into Fleur's soft touches and exerted every ounce of her energy into mentally, emotionally and physically blocking Bellatrix out.
After a few moments she relaxed her body, which had been laying in Fleur's lap, and relaxed her breathing. Hermione had her walls up and that was what she cared about, she could feel the Death Eater testing them, systematically pressing against them and shuddered. Fleur gently place a finger under Hermione's chin and raised her head so that she could meet her gaze and as she did so, she raised a questioning eyebrow. Hermione sighed in response, "do you know legilimency?" she asked and Fleur nodded. Hermione took a deep breath as she felt her heart begin to race in her chest, she was so tired and so sore that all she wanted to do was shut her eyes and go so sleep right here, "do it on me." She said. Fleur reached for her wand and cast the spell, as she did so Hermione dropped her walls and braced herself.
Bellatrix threw herself against Hermione's wall not really expecting to get anywhere, but she took joy in knowing that her constant attacks were wearing the insufferable little witch down, she would learn her lesson; there is no escape from Bellatrix Lestrange! She was stunned when she did not hit the familiar wall but instead walked straight into Hermione's mind. She laughed her patented cackle, assuming that Hermione had finally given up fighting her and braced herself to begin the next attack when something caught her eye and she realised that she was not the only one there. Bellatrix examined this other person, recognised her as the blonde Veela who had been nursing Hermione and cackled again. "Well well Muddy, look who has come to play," she taunted as she raised her wand and aimed it at Fleur.
Without even thinking about what she was doing Fleur put herself between Lestrange and Hermione's mind and threw up a protégé just in time for the Crucio that Bellatrix had thrown to bounce back towards her. It was enough to convince Bellatrix to withdraw from Hermione's mind for the moment. As soon as she was sure that Bellatrix had withdrawn Fleur also pulled out and stared at Hermione, both women were more than a little surprised, though for different reasons. Fleur helped Hermione to her feet, then began to pace back and forth in the room for a moment trying to process what it was she had just seen. Hermione watched Fleur pace, afraid of what her reaction might be, she had assumed it would be anger.
Fleur was aware that her pacing was not putting Hermione at ease and stopped. The two witches stood unsure of what to say, however Hermione resolved this for Fleur by picking up her shirt and attempting to put it on, "What on earth are you doing 'Ermione?" Fleur asked stunned. Hermione stopped struggling with the shirt and stared at Fleur, "What do you think I am doing? Nothing has changed Fleur." Hermione said exasperated, she did not understand why Fleur could not see what was so very clear to her. Fleur stepped forwards, took a hold of Hermione's hands and gently guided her towards the bathroom. She pulled the younger witch until she was standing in front of the mirror and then very tenderly pulled the shirt and dropped it to the floor. Hermione watched Fleur cautiously; quite unsure about what was happening but suddenly very aware that she was standing in her underwear.
Wordlessly Fleur stood behind Hermione and very gently turned the younger witch's head so that she had no choice but to look in the mirror. Hermione looked at the reflection staring back at her and was surprised to note that she barely recognised herself. She started at her feet and worked her way up, her legs were covered in bruises and cuts that were in varying stages of healing, her stomach bore the evidence of burns and cuts that had been left to heal on their own. As her eyes drifted up her torso she noted that her ribs were protruding through her skin and she winced, until now she truly had no idea of how much weight she had lost while on the run with Harry and Ron. She continued the self examination, but skipped over the scar on her arm, Hermione had decided that she was not quite ready to even begin dealing with that one. Instead she turned her attention to the face that she no longer recognised. It was not bruising or scars that caused her to be shocked this time, it was the fact that her face was so thin, her eyes sunken into beds of deep purple bags that surrounded them and she was very pale.
She stood there for a moment in disbelief, running her eyes over her scars again. Hermione winced at some of the scars, she could remember the cause of each one and she could almost feel each one being created as she looked at it. Hermione allowed her eyes to drift up to the reflection of Fleur and could see that her friend was silently crying. Fleur caught the young witch watching her and quickly wiped the spilled tears from her face with her hand and took a deep breath, shaking as she did so. She held Hermione's gaze in the mirror as she spoke, "'Ermione, your back 'as many more scars, I could not even guess as to why. You 'ad a knife wound in your shoulder blade that 'ad torn your rotator cuff, I used my limited knowledge of 'ealing spells to set et on the road to recovery, I suspect you tore it when you were wrestling wiz ze shirt." The younger witch stood in silence and listened to her friend, "I am not wishing to keep you 'ere against your will, on ze contrary, I will support whatever decision you make. What I am suggesting, Ma Petite, is that you give yourself a few more days, perhaps a week so zat you can 'eal. Zen you will be better prepared to defend yourself against zese attacks zat Bellatrix is mounting against you. Zen you can go to ze order and be of use to zem and zey will take you seriously. My suggestion, et is logical, non?" Fleur never broke eye contact with Hermione as she spoke, and she could already tell that she had made progress because the look that she was getting back from Hermione was not a defiant glare.
Hermione considered Fleur's argument and found that she agreed with her logic, the stronger she was the better her occlumency would be, which meant that there would be less chance of Bellatrix breaking into her mind and the more use to the Order she would be. At least until they found out that a Death Eater had access to her mind and her memory, then they would class her as a liability and shut her out. Hermione sighed and nodded her head at Fleur, who was visibly relieved at receiving consent from her friend.
Hermione stepped away from the mirror, she could not stand to look at her reflection a second longer, she walked into the bedroom and crawled into the bed. Pulling the blanket over her, finally grateful to be covered but puzzled over Fleur's reaction to the entire situation, why was she not angry at her for endangering her? Why was she so concerned about her well being? She watched as Fleur exited the bathroom a moment later and stepped towards the bed, "May I?" she asked as she indicated to the bed. Hermione smiled and scooted over suddenly forgetting all the questions plaguing her; it really did not matter why, she had never felt as safe, warm and relaxed as she did when she was in Fleur's arms and that was all that mattered, for now.