4

The small café was tucked neatly into a quieter side of London, a place Hermione had found years ago and frequented often enough that the staff greeted her with warm familiarity. Fleur sat across from her, her silver-blonde hair catching the sunlight streaming through the enchanted windows. Her expression was serene, her haughty poise as effortless as always.

The two of them had decided to meet for lunch, a rare moment of downtime between their demanding schedules. Hermione had been recounting a particularly absurd case involving a rogue Kneazle when the server arrived with their plates, a steaming shepherd's pie for Hermione and a beautifully arranged Niçoise salad for Fleur.

"And then, the poor man insisted that it wasn't his Kneazle," Hermione continued, her voice brimming with exasperation, "even though the thing had followed him home from Wales, of all places. The paperwork alone was ridiculous."

Fleur let out a soft laugh, the sound like a delicate chime. "Let's say that you truly have a gift for interesting cases, Hermione," she said, picking up her fork with a graceful flick of her wrist.

Hermione rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling. "It's not as glamorous as you might think. Sometimes, I feel more like a glorified babysitter than a magical creatures advocate."

"Non," Fleur said firmly, her tone carrying that natural authority that always seemed to accompany her words. "What you do is important. Embrace it. I am sure someday you will be minister or something like that"

Hermione flushed slightly at the compliment, ducking her head to take a bite of her pie. "Well, it's nice to feel useful," she said after a moment, her tone quieter.

They fell into an easy rhythm, discussing work and the latest developments in their lives. Fleur spoke of Gringotts, her sharp wit shining as she described a particularly foolish junior curse breaker who had nearly triggered an ancient magical trap. Hermione laughed openly, her brown eyes lighting up in a way that made Fleur's stomach twist, though she maintained her composed exterior.

It wasn't until the conversation drifted toward personal matters that Hermione tilted her head, curiosity sparking in her gaze.

"So," Hermione began, setting her fork down and leaning slightly forward, "what's been going on with your... love life?"

Fleur arched a single elegant brow, her lips curving into a faint smirk. "My love life?" she repeated, the words rolling off her tongue with amusement.

Hermione shrugged, undeterred. "Well, Ginny said you've been going on a lot of dates lately. I was just curious if any of them have gone anywhere."

Fleur paused, her smirk softening into something more contemplative. She took a sip of her water before answering. "Non, none of them have gone anywhere," she said lightly, though her tone carried a trace of frustration.

"Why not?" Hermione pressed, clearly intrigued.

"Because," Fleur said, gesturing with her fork, "they are... boring. Dull. There is no spark, no fire." She sighed dramatically, as though lamenting the sorry state of romance itself.

Hermione's brow furrowed slightly. "That's a shame. What about the last one? Ginny said she set you up with someone."

Fleur's eyes flickered with faint annoyance at the mention of Ginny's meddling, but she maintained her composure. "Ah, yes. A very nice girl, trés jolie. But that is all she was—nice. That is not enough for me."

Hermione froze mid-bite, her fork hovering in the air. "Girl?"

Fleur's sharp blue eyes darted toward Hermione, and for the briefest moment, there was a flicker of surprise before she recovered. "Oui," Fleur said casually, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Is that... surprising?"

Hermione blinked, quickly setting her fork down. "No, not surprising," she said hastily, though the slight flush on her cheeks betrayed her. "I just—I mean, I didn't know you dated women." Her tone dropped a bit, as if she was having a small introspective moment. "I have known you for years and only saw you with men, you even married one"

Fleur tilted her head, studying Hermione with an air of mild amusement. "You assumed I was straight?"

"Well... yes," Hermione admitted, her cheeks darkening further. "Not that there's anything wrong with you not being straight, of course! I just—"

"Relax, ma chère," Fleur interrupted smoothly, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "I do not mind. But for the record, I have always been... flexible."

Hermione's lips parted slightly, and she seemed to mull over the words, her brow furrowing. "I see," she said finally, though her voice was quieter than before.

Fleur took another sip of her water, watching Hermione carefully. There was something delightfully disarming about the way Hermione's mind worked—how her initial surprise gave way to contemplation, as though she were cataloging Fleur's words and filing them neatly away for further analysis.

Hermione hesitated, then asked, "So... do you prefer one over the other? Men or women, I mean."

Fleur's smirk deepened. "It depends," she said with a slight shrug. "I am attracted to... passion. Confidence. Someone who knows what they want. Gender, I find, is irrelevant."

Hermione nodded slowly, though she looked as though she wanted to ask more. Fleur seized the opportunity, leaning forward slightly, her voice dipping into a teasing tone. "Why so curious, Hermione?"

Hermione's head snapped up, her brown eyes widening slightly. "I'm not curious!" she said quickly, her voice an octave higher than usual.

Fleur chuckled softly, a low, melodic sound that sent a faint shiver down Hermione's spine. "Non? Not even a little?"

"I just didn't know, that's all," Hermione said firmly, though she fidgeted slightly under Fleur's gaze.

Fleur leaned back, the picture of nonchalance, though her smirk lingered. "You never asked," she said lightly.

Hermione exhaled, picking up her glass of pumpkin juice and taking a long sip, clearly trying to regain her composure. Fleur allowed the silence to stretch for a moment, relishing the faint color that still lingered in Hermione's cheeks.

They moved on to other topics after that, but Fleur couldn't help noticing the way Hermione occasionally glanced at her, her expression thoughtful and tinged with something Fleur couldn't quite place. Whatever it was, it made the corners of Fleur's lips curve into a satisfied smile.