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It was supposed to be fun, she thought. Hermione came as Fleur’s plus one to this grand ball that was being held in their honor for the Wizarding War’s Anniversary. What a hoot it turned out to be. It was as if it was physically painful to be near Fleur. She doesn’t even know why she had agreed to be the fake date but she knew deep down that it was a sort of desperation for her greatest cowardice in life. Just for the night she could pretend as if Fleur actually noticed her and was her lover. She would ignore the glances she would spare her ex-husband even though each one would tear her up inside.
Please look at me.
Now that she was back in her apartment, the loneliness settled in like a sack of lead dropped in the arctic. Hermione knew that it didn’t help to wallow. But every single encouragement she had for herself was drowned out by dark thoughts that occupied her mind tonight. Fleur hadn’t even left the evening on a terrible note but her absence seems to have sucked out any remaining joy she had left. Every part of her body felt as if it was a part of the bed she was crying in.
If only there was a way to shut off my heart.
The next day, a copy of the Daily Prophet landed on her dining table. Its Headline felt like it was mocking her. Of course everyone would be interested in why Minister Granger had taken Fleur Delacour as her date for the reunion ball and it made her insides feel like it was rotten. She promptly threw it into the bin.
Perhaps breakfast would put her in a better mood.
~xXoXx~
Work was easy to get lost in. Before Hermione knew it, she had gone through three months of barely socializing, barely eating, and barely sleeping. It was easy to hide under the guise of being swamped in the ministry because Merlin knew that some of these laws were downright draconic in nature. Harry did notice her hiding away with work.
So off they went to a week-long vacation in France, of all places. Their group was fairly large with it consisting of the Weasley siblings, Harry, Luna, and, of course, Fleur. They were touring the countryside which was full of beautiful sights, food, and wine. Fleur had taken them to a private beach owned by her family. Hermione dreaded coming to the beach but she could opt out of swimming and pick up her old habits of drowning herself with books. She knew that it would be very difficult to find joy in it because she felt like her happiness was so close but she couldn’t touch it.
It wasn’t until Fleur had invited her to come swim at the beach that she found herself choking on her excuses. It had to be illegal to look so beautiful. Fleur’s beauty made her want to cry because she knew that she could never touch what wasn’t hers.
“Will you not join us, ‘Ermione?” Fleur asked.
“I… honestly hadn’t packed to swim.” Hermione felt like squirming under the intense scrutiny the blonde woman was giving her. Suddenly, her ribs felt too exposed and her cheeks too gaunt. She felt ugly.
“Come, Mon amie, I’m sure I can find some of mine that I can transfigure to your size.” Fleur insisted, gauging the woman. It felt like Hermione was going to run away somewhere.
Hermione’s silence felt like a violin that was screeching. “Fleur please. Stop this. I just want to be left alone with my books.”
“What are you so afraid of ‘Ermione?” Fleur whispered, almost afraid to break the girl in front of her.
“Because what if I didn’t want that night three nights ago to be fake?” Hermione trembled, tears that were unbidden had escaped from her eyes.
“Then it won’t be, amour.” Fleur replied, closing the distance between the two of them.
It felt fake. This was all a dream wasn’t it? What were the glances she shared with her ex-husband? Why didn’t Fleur express her desire to see her as more than a friend the days after?
“Cherie, please stop thinking for a moment and look at me.” Fleur pleaded, lifting Hermione’s chin up to look at her. “Please stop doubting that I care for you and love you. I see you. You are beautiful.”
Hermione’s heart felt like it was in a vise. “Why does it feel like it isn’t real?”
“Oh ‘Ermione, I’ve been trying so hard to catch your attention. It seems like you have been thinking of me as well; however, it’s not in the healthiest of ways. I will make this very clear to you. I am very much in love with you. I just want you to know that. You are not obligated in any way to answer but this?” The Frenchwoman gestured to Hermione’s entirety. “I love all of it. No matter what I find underneath. Because I see you Hermione and you are very beautiful.”
Hermione tearfully chuckled rather tearfully. “It all feels so silly now.”
That week they eloped from their group to talk more to each other about their relationship. Of course, Fleur acknowledged that Hermione was still in a state of disbelief in all of this and she will never tire of showing the British Minister that she loves her very much. Hermione for her part vowed to stop living in her head so much. With a heavy heart, she admitted to herself that her Gryffindor courage needed a whole lot of polishing. So much time had been wasted in doubt.
It was time to finally let go and let herself fall into the arms of this beautiful Frenchwoman.