Chapter Text
Change is the law of life. And those who look only to the past or present are certain to miss the future.
J.F. Kennedy
~x~
Chapter I
The war was over.
Even now, Hermione couldn’t really realize all the meaning behind that realization. All the years of struggle and fights -to stay alive, to protect the truth and make it prevail, to fight their way to quiet times- all of this was over now. Well, it was well over for quite a while in fact. The dead were buried, and the wound healed.
Almost.
Some will never quite heal properly.
Her left arm was the daily reminder of that. Ron told her it didn’t matter, that it was just words and with time they would probably just be an anomaly in and on her skin. But she knew. She knew that even if the words faded they would always be there. That the days recovering slowly and painfully in the Cottage, while Fleur patiently watched over her; nursing her back to a kind of balance of health both mentally and physically, would never be enough to forget. To heal. War indeed left people changed. Even Harry.
Everyone thought that with Voldemort dead, the nightmares would stop. But they don’t. New ones even started to appear. But Harry didn’t say anything. Didn’t complain. The war was over.
And now that all was slowly getting back in order, that the Weasley had mourned enough while still allowing her and Harry to stay, Hermione found herself with the increasingly awful pressure to get back to her parents. She could apparate. Probably. To where they were. But what then ? Vanishing the obliviate ? Yeah, and then? “Sorry daddy, sorry mommy, I had to go kill bad people who would have probably killed you, so I had to make you forget my entire existence. A coffee with that?”
It was absurd. Of course she wanted to be able to go to her parents and tell them everything, that it was finally over, that she and her friends had at last a chance at a normal life. She wanted them to take her in their arms and hold her. Hold her as if nothing happened. To make her forget, to make her relax for good. Even when it was late at night and she found herself wandering through the house, only to find soft but strong hands on her shoulder guiding her to the kitchen and making her some tea, for finally enlacing her in a tight hug… Well, even then, after a short period of relief, she tensed inevitably again. Feelings that didn’t leave her since she saw Harry crying and screaming on the corpse of Cedric, were enlacing her. The smell of mint and forest were replaced by ashes and blood. My god. All the blood. You would think that battle between witches and sorcerers were without it. But they were not. And feelings she refused to think about, feelings that made her hold tighter to the calming presence against her, were crashing against the wall of her mind.
Fleur sensed everything of course. Was it because she was part Veela ? Hermione didn’t know. But every time in those moments, Fleur had given her time and released her when she needed to. Leaving her to drink the hot tea, the warm slowly southing her nerves as the now familiar smell of strange woods lingered around her after the embrace. Was it PTSD? She did read multiple books on it, but the actual description of it by people experiencing it were pretty rare, and always different from one to another. She didn’t even want to think about that. Just the thought of it almost immediately made a trembling sigh leave her lips. And Ron asked. Harry didn’t. Harry knew. But Ron? Ron seemed fine.
Of course, losing Percy was awful for him, and the whole family. But passed the sharp pain of the first few weeks, a peaceful nostalgia took place. Molly still had a flash of pain in her eyes every time she saw George, looking rapidly away. This always caused more pain on the face of the young man, but soon Bill was there to give a recomforting tap on his shoulder. But Ron? Ron seemed ready to start again. After the… Kiss, in the chamber of secret, the boy didn’t really leave room for any sort of discussion about it and just assumed the status of their relationship. And Hermione didn’t care. At the time, at least. She needed an anchor. Harry had Ginny. Ginny had Harry. Bill had Fleur. Fleur had Bill. Even if it seemed more the first than the second.
So she was left alone, wasn’t she ? But Ron was there. Well, as much as he could be counting on his incredible emotional capacity. She wanted to scream at herself to think that. He did have been here for her. For them. She just didn’t want to let him in. Not too close. Both physically and mentally. Slowly, with time, she understood that this kiss and all the implication behind it, were a mistake. A big one. She was surrounded by red heads who all though she was their future sister in law, or worse, daughter in law.
She wanted to scream. Not against herself this time. But against everyone in this house. Well, not everyone. Not Harry. Not Fleur. They both looked so alike now that she could think of it with more years behind her. Fleur were just more direct than Harry was.
She didn’t blame her now. She even admired her a little. Would this situation exist if she just told Ron her discovery? Or would have her friend been hurt to see his feeling not returned? Was there any feeling, romantic feelings, towards her in Ron? Or was he in the same weird place as her? Everything was so complicated. All of this for some stupid kiss. It wasn’t even that good actually. Hermione almost blushed at the realization, and a feeling of guilt spread over her. She should probably keep that to herself. She trusted Harry with her life, and told him a few weeks ago about the realization. Even if Ron was his best friend, he assured her that he understood and were on her side no matter what. Knowing Ron, this situation could end either on a good laugh or horribly badly. She needed to go away for a while. But for that, she needed her parents. Or would she just go back to her house without them? Wouldn’t it be weird? Yes, yes it would. And more sad than anything. And being all alone there would just bring back all sorts of memory, without enlacing warm hands to take them away, even for a moment. So, she couldn’t cut it. She had to go get her parents.
-Do you want more tea, Hermione?
The french accent was almost imperceptible now, and the calming voice behind it could he heard clearly. Hermione had completely forgot where she was, and the piercing blue eyes in front of her launched her brain in a rush.
-Would you help me? Fleur looked at her intensively, a blonde eyebrow raised. Help me with my parents. You see, I had to-
-Obliviate. I know. You told me back then…
Fleur looked away, her face turning melancholic. Hermione smiled a little. She was sensing everything, wasn’t she? Her fingers touched her arm without her realizing it, light touch against smooth skin.
-I understand if you can’t, with Bill and the full moon approaching.
-You saw how Molly and Arthur can handle it perfectly well. Fleur’s voice sounded almost harsh. I…
Seeing how Fleur didn’t finish her sentence, Hermione allowed herself to touch slightly harder the hand of the blonde. She didn’t move at all, and almost looked like a statue in the pale light of the candle and moon. How could she possibly had called this woman Phlegm? Her hair looked like silver rain in this light…
-I needed to get back to my family too. For quite a long time actually. Before the war. I pushed it aside, the cottage seeming like the more secure location at the time. But now… Now everything is over, isn’t it ?
It wasn’t a question, of course. And Fleur even laughed a little. Void of emotion.
-You need better help Hermione. One I can’t provide. Or you need to get out of here for a little while. Is that it?
The girl just slightly moved her head in agreement. Where was she going with that?
-Harry too. But I don’t think… She shakes her head, cutting her train of thought. Would you want to come with me, in France?
-What?
The question was out of her mouth before she could process it. Hermione repositioned herself in her chair, allowing a heavy silence to fall on them as her brows furrowed. Fleur smiled a little and started to get up.
-I want to. But I have to get to my parents…
The blonde stopped herself and looked at the witch in front of her before sitting back.
-We will get to them. But I think a little time for you first would be good. You can visit the city while I… While I go to my family, right?
Hermione hesitated. Could she really be left alone in a foreigner city ? This looked like the perfect idea to get lost. Or worst.
-Do you really think it’s a good idea ?
Fleur laughed softly, her eyes staring tenderly in her direction. Hermione couldn’t hold her gaze. She never did.
-It’s a small city. You will love it. The wine isn’t really great for foreigners, but the landscape is incredible. And it has a lot of history.
Fleur accentuated the last part with a knowing look. Hermione rolled her eyes.
-Fine! But if I get lost you will be responsible!
-You won’t, don’t worry.
-How long do you have to stay?
-Not more than four days, I think. Then we go get your parents. Alright?
Hermione sighed. For the first time in a long time, the future didn’t seem panicking or a dead end.
-Yes. Do you already have a day?
-Well, Monday actually. Arthur and Molly are already aware, so does Bill. We were Saturday.
Hermione felt the panic rising.
-I will never be ready! It means that the following week I would be with my parents and I… I don’t know what to say to them!
The soft hands on hers. The reassuring smile. And, oh god, the feelings crushing against the walls of her mind.
-It will be okay, Hermione. They will understand. And we will have plenty of time to discuss this once there. Don’t overthink.
Hermione wanted to speak. Wanted to protest. But it was true. And the idea of being away from this house and all the pressure in it, was too great to think too much of it. She was a Gryffindor, for Christ’s sake!
-Alright… Once again, her brows furrowed. Well, I still need to learn some french in two days.
Fleur laughed and started to put away their cups rising again.
-Don’t worry, I will give you private lesson.
Hermione shivered.
Was it the part veela in Fleur that made the girl say thing like this while looking at you like you were a mouse and her the cat? Fleur always seemed to be completely oblivious of her flirtation. Of course, when she wanted to, she wasn’t. But most of the time it was only when the person in front of her started to appear more red than a tomato, that she understood what she just did. But Hermione didn’t blush. In fact, she found herself smiling and laughing softly, slowly shaking her head.