I know! A new chapter, wow. Well there are no excuses.
Rules of Engagement
Chapter Ten: Separations
Athleticism was never Hermione's forte, it was the one thing she always found she had to put effort into mastering. Being an Auror, this one particular skill came with extreme importance; so like everything the young Witch put her mind to, she strived to be better at it. Her lungs burned with exertion as she came to stop behind a tree, its branches marred with the scars of a cold autumn, rearing early for the season. Crouching, she rubbed the tips of her fingers together to keep them from numbing before reaching into her pocket to grasp her wand.
Faintly, in the distance, she could hear the scattering of leaves and wisps of spells as Seamus dueled with their pursuer. She had barely escaped herself when she found herself cornered; only to be saved at the last minute by the brazen Irishman. She quickly tried to formulate a plan in her head, a distraction maybe? But they were out in the open, the element for surprise was somewhat lacking currently.
A cool wind moved through, the tree's rustling in protest and her bones chilling in its wake. She waited for it subside before taking off in a sprint, her legs kicking strongly as she gained momentum. The bob and weave method Ron had shown her over a summer ago had been nearly perfected and despite her dire straits, she found herself grinning with pride.
She reached a clearing, boots skidding to a stop on fallen leaves as she searched for her missing counterpart. The trees around her groaned as another gust of wind picked up, her arms immediately shielding herself from the onslaught of foliage and dirt. An eerie quiet had settled in and there was still no sign of the devilish Irishman.
Suddenly a yell broke through the trees and the sound of rustling and magic echoed again, her body thrusting forward towards it. She nearly lost her footing as she leaped over the cleft of a hill and slid down it, her arms immediately catching the ground behind her and pushing her body back upright as she barreled towards Seamus's figure. His waist and legs were encircled by vines, pulling him deeper into a bramble as he clawed at the ground.
She approached closer but he wildly waved her off as he was pulled deeper, the vines now encircling his neck.
"No don't, they'll get yah too! Leave meh, get to the Lake! It's too late for meh!" He groaned in exertion as he tried to pull himself further out before the vines, seeming to have a mind of their own, removed themselves from his neck in favor of his arms; yanking him backwards.
"I won't leave you! We can do this Seamus, just give me your hand!" The young witch pleaded as she reached for him frantically.
He only batted her hands away, his eyes resolute as he slowly disappeared into the bush.
"Don't let the bitch get yah Granger, run… Run for the lake." Then, he was gone.
Hermione only stopped to breathe for a second before taking off, her breath coming out in harsh pants as she fired spells off behind her blindly. She narrowly dodged a vine and quickly severed one that wrapped around her wrist before the lake came into view just below a slope. Without hesitation she leapt over it, her body turning as she pulled her wand from her jacket and set a reaching vine aflame. The landing was far from soft but she rolled with it, groaning with effort and she pushed herself up into a kneeling stance. She was so close, the scent of fresh water and sediment encasing her as she closed her eyes for a brief moment of reprieve.
"You know you have to make it to the shore to win, can't just laze about in the bedrock."
Her eyes flew open and cast a heavy glare on the redheaded wizard standing over her, his mouth chewing furiously on a piece of bacon as he shook his head in disapproval.
"Ron… what the bloody hell? Have you been here the whole time? Stuffing your gullet?"
The redheaded Auror swallowed before taking a sip from a metal cup that wafted the scent of black tea and honey in her direction before answering.
"Oh…yeah. Yeah I have, I let her get me. It's too early in the morning to be running 'bout like a mad person. I'm sorry 'Mione but it's starting to get nippy and mah fingers were getting the numbs." He extended the cup towards her as she stood, her glare turning incredulous.
"You let her get you? Ronald I thought you left with Seamus." She said before glaring at the cup but taking it for its warmth anyway.
"It did look that way didn't it? Look, she was bound to get me first anyway. You and Seamus are pretty quick on your feet, I figured I'd just not delay the inevitable; plus she always goes for you last. I'm just applying that foresight you always said I should have."
"You know good and well this situation doesn't apply, you lazy arse." She grumbled before the cup flew from her hand, the metal clanking against a bed of rock nearby. Quickly, she tried to react but her body went rigid as her wand was cast away and the scent of lavender and vanilla overtook her.
Ron's eyes went wide before shooting her an apologetic look.
"Oh, right. She's behind you…sorry."
A chuckle she had heard so many times over the last few months rang in her ears as the French Witch emerged from the foliage behind her.
"Monsieur Weasley 'iz correct, you 'ave to make it to 'zee shore before moi. It 'zeems az 'zough you 'ave come up just short, again." The French Auror tsked as she circled around the brunette, her wand pointed straight and unwavering.
"I must claim victory. I win." Fleur said simply, a Cheshire cat smirk curling her lips.
Hermione blew a strand of hair from her face in frustration as she struggled against the Immobulus charm that currently bound her body. The blond Aurors smirk only seeming to widen as she came to a stop next to Ron.
"I will say, much improvement over 'zee last few times we 'ave done 'zis exercize. You're improving."
Fleurs expression was downright triumphant as she released the young witch with a flick of her wrist, an expression that had been growing ever bolder the more they practiced this scenario. Every other weekend had consisted of this. Exercises with different scenarios, different locations and running different strategies. Hermione couldn't, and wouldn't, deny the improvements she had garnered from these early morning practices; but the frustration of being on the losing side more often than not was starting to get to her pride.
Ronald yawned before shoving the last remnants of his third helping of bacon into his mouth, seemingly unaware of the tense air between the two Witches as he started making his way up the slope that led to the forest.
"Well, I'll go fetch Seamus. Prepare for a slew of curses and accusations of cheating Fleur."
Fleur simply made a noise of acknowledgement, her eyes never leaving the seething glare of Hermione's as her smirk stayed secured on her perfectly smooth lips.
Hermione's eyes only narrowed more as her fingers twitched at her side, a familiar bolt running up her spine when she took note that they were alone.
This had been happening more often than she liked, something in Fleur had changed that day at the hospital. Often, and always when no one could take notice, Hermione would find Fleurs eyes from across a room, cerulean orbs already deep in thought and fastened in her direction. The look was always the same and something that Hermione could not place.
Fleur would never look away first, it was almost like she was determined not to. Hermione had often found herself having to drag her eyes away; even sometimes having to physically remove herself from the room to escape the shudder that always seemed to move its way up and down her spine when these staring competitions went on for more than a few seconds.
Maybe it was the bite of the early autumn morning or the restless sleep she had the night before, or even that finally she had grown sick of the French Auror besting her; but Hermione's gaze did not falter this time. Which was something that seemed to get Fleurs attention, a perfectly manicured eyebrow raising as she took notice of the young witch's determination.
"Ah, it seems I 'ave finally 'it a cord, 'ave I?"
Hermione's shoulders tensed and she bristled in defiance as Fleur moved closer. She took note of the slight pink tinge of the French Aurors cheeks, most likely do to the cold. How opposite they were, she was sure her own skin was cracked and had been battling a recurring case of runny nose since she woke up; hardly the picture of grace that was standing before her. Fleur was flawless as always, the cold only seemed to help her complexion and her lips showed no signs of cracking, smoother even now in the bitter weather that surrounded them.
Even Fleurs clothes were perfect, a simple pale blue tank and track jacket with matching fitted jogging pants. A stark contrast to Hermione's worn jeans, white under shirt and brown leather jacket that were marred with the evidence of their excursion; yet Fleur seemed untouched.
"I haven't the faintest idea what you mean. But you are a cheater, I do know that." She grumbled, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets and pushing past the grinning blonde. Fleur, to her credit, did not seem bothered by the younger Witches foul mood as she simply turned with her and followed at a respectful distance.
"Oh come now, it 'iz just a game 'ermione." Fleur chided as Hermione came to a stop in front of the lake's shore, the heel of her boot digging into damp soil and sediment. Hermione merely let out a defiant huff as Fleur came to a stop just behind her, the closeness leaving the brunette slightly unsettled.
"I really did 'zink you were going to win 'zis time. You are quite quick on your feet, very… agile. But you are too tense, you must try to let your body go. Let it move with you raz'er 'zan against you."
The brunette went rigid when she felt a familiar warmth against her back; eyes widening in the shock of not realizing just how close Fleur was. Before she could think, her response fell from her lips; words clipped with slight annoyance.
"And I suppose you have suggestions on how to do that, hm?"
She turned to face her tormentor then, despite the slight tinge in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the cold anymore. Brown eyes, filled with vexation, met blue that shone with predatory excitement; causing the brunettes glare to slightly falter as she was not used to seeing this reaction. Never before had their quip matches ever garnered this response, this was new territory and it caught Hermione off guard.
She was pretty sure she just flirted with Fleur Delacour and it had completely disarmed her.
Fleurs responding chuckle was deeper and fuller than it had ever been as she leaned in, her lips parting in response before her eyes swept to the side and her jaw flexed. She stood silent for a moment, her posture still bend before her eyes slowly met Hermione's again. Fleurs words came carefully and slow, like cream being poured into coffee.
"I do not 'zink you are quite prepared for my answer Mon chère. But Monsieur Finnigan is about to break 'zrough 'zat brush so I will let you win…'zis time." On cue Fleur turned on the heel of her foot just as a fiery and twig ridden Seamus burst through the tree line.
"Cheata! You're a bloody cheata Fleur and don't ya deny it!" The Irishman seethed as he yanked twigs and leaves from his hair and jumper.
His mouth was twisted into a frown that resembled an expression of being ill as he folded his arms over his chest, huffing dramatically when the blonde did not acknowledge his presence.
"I thought you were gonna kill meh! Bloody vines, that's cheaten!"
It was a peculiar scene to watch from afar, Hermione noted. Fleur, with perfect posture and absolutely flippant attitude, compared to Seamus's stocky and hunched vibrato. She found her annoyance slipping away as the Irishman waved his arms about wildly, curses flying as the blonde merely rolled her eyes.
"Zer are all types of magic Monsieur Finnigan. Besides, what 'iz wrong 'wiz a little flair? I encountered 'zomething very similar during 'zee tournament and I can assure you it left a lasting impression."
If the memory bothered her, Fleur barely showed it. Time could heal most things but the slight twitch of the blonde's lips spoke volumes. This seemed to calm Seamus slightly, his grimace turning into a slight frown as he let a long breath go.
"Well… Yeh a damn good Witch I'll give you that, feh a cheata."
Hermione felt for her then, the urge to give a reassuring touch bloomed in the pit of her stomach and all the way to her finger tips. Restraint had always been a well-practiced skill and she was putting it to good use now.
She hadn't realized her gaze was fixated on the blonde's back until her stare was broken by Ron's bacon grease-stained mouth coming into view. He stood in front of her, chewing nonchalantly with expectant gaze, as her lips downturned into a slightly disgusted frown. Finally she took notice of his outstretched hand, a thick slice of meat dangling from his fingertips in offering.
"No thank you Ronald, I can't possibly digest that properly so early in the morning." She sighed as she turned back towards the shore, waves licking at her boots and then pulling back further each time.
Fleur was a mystery to her, coded in the most complicated of ways. On the outside she portrayed an open book, a woman of no secrets, Hermione knew better. The intricacies of a former champion, divorcee and Auror laid beneath the shiny vainer the blonde presented and Hermione could not help but fixate on the conundrum that was presented to her.
There was that laugh again, Hermione's ears perked as she inclined her head towards the blonde and Seamus. They seemed to have made up, Seamus mimicking his panicked expression from earlier as he clawed his hands wildly in the air. Fleurs nose wrinkled as she laughed, each line beautifully defined but soft at the same time.
Hermione actually huffed.
Why would Fleur use such a troublesome memory as a tactic? Of all the charms, spells and jinx's she had to choose one that held such weight. Why?
At the hospital, the blonde had been so different. There was softness, a tenderness that she had rarely seen.
Only once before…
"Oi, Mione. What's wrong with yeh?"
The young blinked furiously, having not noticed she had been staring intensely at the duo.
"Pardon?" She feigned clearing her throat as she shifted nervously from one foot the other, her hands immediately retreating into her leather jacket as she tried to ignore the blonde witches raised eye brow and inquisitive smirk.
"Yeh had yeh face all screwed up, what's wrong?"
Her brain stopped. It completely and utterly, stopped.
"Ron… uh he, is… was just being weird."
Seamus's eyes narrowed, moving back and forth between Hermione and to the red headed wizard; who was currently skipping rocks across the lake behind her. The Irishman seemed to deliberate for a moment before slowly nodding his head and then turning back towards Fleur to continue their conversation. But blue eyes continued to stare, flitting to her every few minutes as Seamus laid out his fool-proof strategy for their next meeting.
The weekend came and went and Hermione soon found herself being scrutinized by a darker set of eyes.
How she loathed Monday's.
Viktor had always been a man of few words and even fewer contradictions, he never lingered on small talk.
"You are not to be doing 'dis Hermione. If 'Dey found out…"
She sighed rather than interrupt him, only holding her hand out weakly before dropping it to her knee. He stood by the window, Hogwarts castle to his back. She sat on the opposite end, their distance as symbolic as it was uncomfortable.
"Viktor, please. I'm just asking for information, I know full and well what the implications are but I must know."
His hands tightened around his leather gloves, the sound seeming to drown out the constant creaking of the shrieking shack.
"If you're asking for her 'Den she should be here to ask for herself-"
This time she did interrupt him.
"This has nothing to do with Fleur, just simply my own peace of mind. Something tells me though that if she were here, you would be just as mute if not more unwilling."
This seemed to quell whatever retort the Bulgarian had planned. He looked away then, eyes cast towards the castle as his body heaved a long heavy sigh before he finally spoke.
"If you are referring to 'De night of 'De Gala 'Den yes, you are right to have 'Dat assumption. But given 'De circumstances I would be happy to help in anyway 'Dat I could. I had… too much to drink 'Dat night and I was very abrasive, what you thought you saw or heard was just a product of fatigue and spirits."
He faced her then, his face unreadable. He did not wish to further the subject, it was clear with the finality of his tone. Hermione was suddenly filled with an urge to defend herself, to let him have it for insinuating what she heard may have been more elevated due to her condition that night.
But she had nor the time or the patience for such debates and she did make it clear that this was not about Fleur, not today at least.
"Have you heard of anything of Stoyan or Emil?"
Another conflicted sigh left the star Quidditch player before answering.
"No, but some in circle say 'Dat Stoyan has gone into hiding. The French are not taking him lightly any longer and I fear 'Dat my sources are starting to run dry on 'Dis particular subject."
Her gut twisted as she subtly gripped the armrest of the chair in frustration.
"But…"
She turned suddenly, the chair creaking with the movement.
"But?" She parroted, her eyes beseeching as Viktor twisted his gloves once more, lips turning into a conflicted frown.
"But… I have heard 'Dat Sergey Boyko may be assisting in whatever Stoyan's next move is. He's been traveling quite heavily since 'De night of 'De Gala and one of my Chaser's actually met with him 'De other night. He was asking for favors, needed Galleons for some trip somewhere far south; not sure where."
She stood, making her way to him in a few strides as she reached out to tentatively touch his shoulder. The shudder than ran through him did not go unnoticed and suddenly she was filled with guilt, her hand retracting almost instantly.
"Viktor I… Thank you. I promise I just want to know, I have my own case to worry about now and as you know I have an unwavering affinity for following the rules." She joked lightly, her hand moving awkwardly to her side as he regarded her with sorrowed eyes at the failed gesture.
"Heh, does not seem 'Dat way as of late. Hermione…"
Callused fingers stroked under chin, the gesture done with such lightness and subtlety she often forgot he was cable of such movements. She was so shocked by it, so taken aback by the fact that she had not noticed how close he had come into her space that she stood there; staring with mouth slightly agape at him.
"Viktor, what are you-"
He shushed her softly, his gaze intense as he ran a single digit from her cheek to the underside of her chin. It lingered there for some time, his eyes fixated on her lips before he let out a deep breath and took a step back.
"I am not poison, yet you look at me as if I am something you need to remedy. Something to be…far from. All I have wanted is to be needed by you and 'Dat is why I indulged in helping you, but I feel 'Dat my threshold has been met. I cannot go on like 'Dis, 'De push, pull and tear of what we never had is…wounding."
He spoke with jilted pauses and accent thicker than ever as he looked away from her; his confession spoken to the floor.
"You are your job and your job is you. You do not separate from your life anything 'Dat you are passionate about, 'Dis I know of you; 'Dis I respect about you. All I urge is for you to be careful, with Stoyan, whatever you are doing now…and with 'Da Veela."
He met her gaze then, his eyes intense as the words sunk down into her bones and her body quivered from the cold from outside and sudden turn their meeting had taken. She felt horrible, disgusted with herself for having been so selfish not notice what pain she had been causing him. The feelings swirled in her gut before her brain ticked, her eyes clouding with suspicion.
"Viktor, I'm sorry. I've been a right git and I can admit that, but what does Fleur have anything to do with this? With…us?"
His responding chuckle was deep and full of mirth has he forcibly put his gloves on and buttoned his coat.
"Dat Hermione, is not my answer to give. All I ask for is time, no letters even. I need space. I do adore our correspondence and 'De short amount of time I have gotten to spend with you 'Dese last few months during your recovery; have been so wonderful and refreshing. But I made a promise to myself 'Dat I would step back and 'Dat is what I am doing because I want you to be happy."
Her mind reeled as she tried to come up with something to say, something to deny and fix the rift that was between them. Nothing came however and he gave a sad smile that did not quite reach his eyes before whispering his goodbyes and disappearing with a faint pop.
As soon as he left her body slid down to the floor, hand clutched to her chest. Her mind still in shock at the fact that she had nothing to utter in ways of stopping him. As her chest heaved and she tried desperately to settle her shaking hands; she could not stop the echo of her own voice in her head, repeating over and over again:
"This has nothing to do with Fleur…"