14
The room was quiet save for the faint hum of the monitoring charms and the soft breathing of Fleur, who had been still for so long it was hard to remember her awake. Hermione sat at her usual spot by the bed, her hand resting lightly on Fleur's, her heart aching with a mixture of hope and fear.
Delphine and Gabrielle were nearby, speaking in hushed tones, while Monsieur Delacour had stepped out for a moment. The tension in the air was palpable, the kind of weight that had lingered for days as they waited, watched, and prayed.
And then, it happened.
Fleur's fingers twitched against Hermione's.
Hermione froze, her breath catching in her throat as she stared at their joined hands. Slowly, Fleur's eyelids fluttered, and after a moment, those sharp, beautiful blue eyes opened, unfocused at first but undeniably alive.
A faint sound escaped Fleur's lips, hoarse and barely audible, but it was enough to send Hermione bolting upright. "Fleur?" she whispered, leaning closer, her heart pounding.
Fleur's gaze shifted, hazy but searching, until it landed on Hermione. A weak, trembling smile ghosted across her lips. "Hermione," she whispered, the word fragile but unmistakable. She surged forward, her tears spilling freely as she wrapped her arms around Fleur, careful not to hurt her but unable to hold back the overwhelming relief coursing through her.
"You're okay," Hermione sobbed, her voice trembling with emotion. "You're okay, Fleur. I was so scared..."
Fleur's icy facade, the one she had always clung to so fiercely, shattered in that moment. Her arms, weak but steady, came up to return the embrace. She buried her face in Hermione's shoulder, letting herself be held, her breaths shallow and uneven as her bottled-up emotions spilled out.
"Don't let go" Fleur whispered
Hermione froze for a moment, her heart skipping a beat, before she tightened her hold on Fleur. "Never" she murmured through her tears, her voice soft but sure. Forgetting about the world around them they kissed, chastely, yet filled with love.
From the doorway, Viktor stood in silence, his dark eyes fixed on the scene before him. He had come to check on Hermione. But now, as he watched her embrace Fleur with such raw emotion, he knew the truth.
His suspicions, the small doubts that had been forming in his mind for days, were confirmed.
Viktor didn't feel anger—only a deep, aching sadness that settled in his chest like a heavy stone. He had loved Hermione, and a part of him always would, but it was clear now that her heart belonged to someone else.
Without a word, Viktor turned and walked away, his footsteps silent as he left the hospital. He didn't say goodbye, didn't interrupt. He knew there was no place for him here.
Hermione, lost in the relief and joy of having Fleur back, didn't even notice him arriving or leaving. For the first time in weeks, the fear and guilt that had been suffocating her were gone, replaced by the simple, undeniable truth of Fleur's presence in her arms.
It would all be well now. Fleur was awake. Fleur was here. And that was all that mattered.
The days after Fleur regained consciousness were a blur of relief and happiness for Hermione. Fleur's recovery was slow but steady, each moment of her growing strength filling Hermione's heart with renewed courage. The moments they shared, soft whispers and lingering touches, were filled with unspoken promises and a love Hermione could no longer ignore.
But as much as her joy surrounded Fleur, there was a weight still pressing on her. Viktor.
She couldn't put it off any longer. Fleur was improving, and Hermione couldn't bear the thought of continuing to deceive Viktor, especially now that she knew exactly where her heart lay.
Hermione tried to reach Viktor for days, sending owls that went unanswered. When he didn't respond, she decided to go to his flat directly. The walk there was heavy, each step laden with dread and guilt. By the time she reached his door, her hands were trembling.
She knocked softly, her heart racing, and after a long moment, the door creaked open. Viktor stood there, his expression neutral but tired, as though he had been expecting this.
"Hermione," he said quietly, stepping back to let her in.
"Hi," she said softly, her voice trembling. "I... I was worried I wouldn't find you."
Viktor closed the door behind her and motioned for her to sit on the couch. "I have been busy," he said, though there was a sadness in his tone. "But I knew you would come."
Hermione nodded, her chest tightening. She sat down, clasping her hands together in her lap as she tried to find the right words. Viktor sat across from her, his dark eyes watching her closely, patiently.
"I don't even know where to start," Hermione admitted, her voice cracking.
Viktor shook his head slightly, offering her a faint, sad smile. "I think I already know."
Hermione blinked, her stomach twisting. "You do?"
"I saw you kiss her, when she woke up" he said simply, his voice steady but laced with pain.
Hermione's breath caught, her eyes widening. "I'm so sorry, Viktor. I should have told you sooner. I should have ended things before—" She admitted after a moment, her voice barely above a whisper. She broke off, unable to finish.
"You should have," Viktor said softly, though there was no anger in his tone, only sadness. "But I do not blame you, the heart wants what it wants"
Tears pricked her eyes, and she looked down at her hands, ashamed. "I didn't want to hurt you," she said.
"I know," Viktor said gently. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he regarded her with quiet understanding. "You loved me too, didn't you? Just... not the same way."
Hermione nodded, her voice breaking as she said, "I do love you, Viktor. You're kind and good, and I've always cared about you. But it's not the kind of love you deserve."
Viktor sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "I thought maybe it could be enough," he admitted, his voice heavy. "But now I see it is not. I want you to be happy, Hermione. Even if that happiness is not with me."
Hermione wiped at her tears, her heart aching at the sight of him sitting there, so composed yet so clearly hurting. "You deserve to be happy too," she said softly.
Viktor smiled faintly, though it didn't reach his eyes. "It will take time," he said. "You... you will be hard to get over. But I will manage."
They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their conversation settling between them. Finally, Viktor leaned back, his expression thoughtful.
"By the end of the season, I will return to Bulgaria," he said. "I think it will be good for me. A fresh start."
Hermione nodded, her throat tight. "I think that's a good idea," she said quietly.
He looked at her then, his dark eyes filled with an unmistakable warmth despite the sadness. "I loved you, Hermione. I still do. And I will always be grateful for the time we had."
Hermione let out a shaky breath, tears spilling down her cheeks as she reached out to take his hand. "I'll always be grateful too. You've been... so good to me, Viktor. Better than I deserved."
"You deserve more than you think," Viktor said gently, squeezing her hand. "And I hope Fleur gives that to you."
Hermione couldn't speak, her emotions overwhelming her. She nodded instead, her hand lingering in his before she finally let go.
They stood together, and Viktor walked her to the door. When she turned to say goodbye, he smiled faintly, his eyes glinting with the strength of someone who had already made peace with the inevitable.
"Goodbye, Hermione," he said softly.
"Goodbye, Viktor," she whispered, her voice breaking.
As the door closed behind her, Hermione felt a mix of relief and sorrow. She had done what needed to be done, but it didn't erase the pain of letting someone go. Still, as she walked away, her thoughts turned to Fleur, and the faint spark of hope in her chest grew brighter.
The sun was just beginning to set, casting a warm, golden light through the windows of Fleur's room at St. Mungo's. She was sitting up in bed now, her strength slowly returning with each day. The light brought out the silvery hues in her hair, and her sharp blue eyes were brighter than they had been in weeks.
Hermione sat beside her, a book open in her lap, though she wasn't reading it. She was too busy watching Fleur, her heart full of a happiness she hadn't allowed herself to feel in what felt like forever.
"You stare, ma chère," Fleur said softly, a faint smirk playing on her lips.
Hermione blushed, quickly glancing down at the book. "I'm just... making sure you're okay."
"I am okay," Fleur replied, reaching out to rest her hand on Hermione's. Her touch was warm and steady, a reminder of how far she had come from the fragile state she had been in.
They sat in silence for a moment, the world outside fading away as they focused on each other. Finally, Fleur broke the quiet, her voice softer now.
"Hermione," she began, her expression turning serious. "I have been thinking..."
Hermione's heart raced. "About what?"
"About us," Fleur said simply. "What we have shared... what I feel for you. It is not something I wish to hide or... keep uncertain anymore. I want to be with you, truly. Not in secret. Not in uncertainty. Just... you and me."
Hermione felt tears prick her eyes, but they were tears of joy. She nodded, her smile bright and unrestrained. "I want that too," she whispered.
Fleur leaned forward, her strength still limited but her resolve clear. Hermione met her halfway, their lips meeting in a kiss that was soft, warm, and filled with promise.
When they pulled apart, Fleur rested her forehead against Hermione's, her voice low and full of affection. "We will make this work," she said. "I promise you."
Hermione smiled, her heart full. "We already are."