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“Really Fleur, I can handle vacuuming under the couch. You really don’t have to do this.”
“And you don’t have to fret so much.” The retort was shot from the base of Hermione’s worn but loved blue couch where the blonde had opted to crouch down to do a quick surveillance of the area underneath said piece of furniture. There were few that would believe that Fleur Delacour could look like anything less than a model right off of the runway, but Hermione was far from most people in this regard. In fact, she didn’t think even Rita Skeeter would believe that Fleur would willingly wear a pair of grey sweats and a tattered t-shirt. But the part-Veela had not only opted to borrow Hermione’s comfortable greys, but also help her clean her apartment.
Against the brunette’s will, a single huff of exasperation escaped her.
“I’m just saying that it’s not exactly the most dignifying thing to be crouched on my floor, helping me clean the muggle way on a weekend.”
“Oh I do not know, I am rather partial to the view.” From here, Fleur looked up at her companion and waggled her eyebrows at the baffled witch.
“Wait— did you just, just flirt with me?!” The question was accompanied by an embarrassing squeak from the normally formidable former Gryffindor.
“Yes, I have been for the past year in fact but thank you for noticing. Mind passing me the vacuum?” The tone from the blonde was matter of fact, almost bored but Hermione could detect the barest hint of amusement that lay beneath the surface. When it was clear that the muggle contraption was not being handed to her, Fleur popped her head up and glanced at the other woman.
Hermione was in the midst of opening and closing her mouth, as if she were attempting to eventually speak but couldn’t quite decide what exactly she wanted to say. The part-Veela smirked and stood up from her temporary crouch so she could face the brilliant witch on more even footing.
Well, as even as fifteen centimeters of height difference could be.
“Hermione, ” She made a point to enunciate the H in the other witch’s name, and was pleased to see that the effort resulted in an adorable flush along the muggleborn’s face. “I am here, on a weekend I might add, to help you clean your flat. I am even doing it the muggle way because you stated that it helps you ‘reconnect with your roots.’ If that is not a clear indicator of my interest, I may need to resort to conscripting the twins!”
“Please don’t involve Fred and George in my love life.” The plea had been blurted out so fast that it took a moment for Hermione to realize that she had been the one to say it.
“Then in that case, we should probably finish up so I can take you out for drinks after this,
non?”
There was a distinct look of victory on Fleur’s face. Hermione for her part just handed her the vacuum and proceeded to blush so hard that the heavy tint on her olive skin could be seen through her fingers, no matter how hard she wished to smother herself with her hands.