Part 17

HERMIONE POV

Beauxbatons Academy of Magic was even more dazzling than Hermione had imagined. Its spires gleamed like liquid silver in the sunlight, and the soft hum of enchantments in the air gave the entire school an otherworldly quality. Despite the breathtaking beauty, Hermione felt like an outsider.

Madame Maxime had extended the invitation personally, insisting that Hermione's experience fighting dark forces would be invaluable to the students. "Zey need to 'ear from someone who has been in ze fire," she had said in her deep, lilting voice.

Still, Hermione couldn't shake the unease that had settled in her chest. It had been years since the war, but the scars of that time ran deep—both within her and within the wizarding world.

Her guide for the week was Gabrielle, who had volunteered eagerly to assist. Fleur had remained at home, her focus on caring for Victoire.

"You'll be fine," Fleur had said with a reassuring smile when Hermione hesitated to accept invitation after Christmas. "Gabrielle will take good care of you, and Maxime will ensure everything goes smoothly."

Hermione had nodded then, not wanting to admit her nerves.

Now, walking through the grand halls of Beauxbatons, she felt the weight of expectation pressing down on her.

Gabrielle led Hermione through the academy with an enthusiasm that was contagious. Though younger than Hermione by several years, she had a warmth and confidence that made her seem wise beyond her age.

"This is the Hall of Enchantment," Gabrielle explained, gesturing to a cavernous room with ceilings enchanted to reflect the constellations. "You'll be giving your lectures here. Everyone is very curious about you."

Hermione smiled politely but couldn't ignore the undercurrent of tension she'd felt since arriving. While some students and staff greeted her warmly, others regarded her with cool indifference or outright disdain.

'I never asked, but how do you manage to live without Fleur's closeness? From what I know, you don't sleep together, and my grandmother always says that without a proper consummation of the bond, separations even for a few hours are unbearable.' Gabrielle noted openly. 'Oh...' Hermione frowned. 'I don't know, maybe it's the tea Aurelie gives me, she said it would help me with emotions during the bond.' 'Do you drink the tea Aurelie gives you?' The blonde asked increadously. 'What's wrong with that? She's a healer and knows Veelas magic.' Hermione shrugged. 'Shall we move on?'

Gabrielle nodded, not returning to the subject.

Her first lecture confirmed her suspicions. As she recounted the strategies and spells she'd used during the war, she noticed the divide in the audience. The Muggle-born and half-blood students leaned forward eagerly, their quills scratching furiously across parchment. But the pureblood students sat stiffly, their expressions guarded, some openly hostile.

After the class ended, Gabrielle caught up with her in the corridor.

"You were amazing," Gabrielle said brightly, falling into step beside her. "I think you scared a few of them, though."

Hermione gave a small smile. "That wasn't my intention. I just want them to understand that anyone can defend themselves if they're willing to learn."

Gabrielle hesitated. "Not everyone here agrees with you. There are still families who... let's just say, they haven't moved on from Voldemort's ideals."

Hermione sighed. "I figured as much. It's only a week. I'll manage."

Gabrielle's expression darkened slightly. "Be careful, Hermione. Some of them are more dangerous than they seem."

Later that evening, Hermione decided to take a moment for herself. The marble-tiled bathroom near her guest quarters was a masterpiece of French enchantment, with gilded fixtures and a tub that filled itself with hot, jasmine-scented water.

As she sank into the bath, she felt the tension in her shoulders begin to ease. The hostility she'd encountered that day had been draining, but she reminded herself it was only for a week. She could endure anything for seven days.

The sound of the door creaking open shattered her moment of calm. Hermione sat up, clutching her wand.

"What—?"

Before she could finish, a group of students entered, their faces shadowed and grim.

"What is this?" Hermione demanded, standing and wrapping a towel around herself with a quick flick of her wand.

One girl stepped forward, her wand raised. "You don't belong here, Mudblood."

Hermione recognized her instantly—Celeste. The girl had introduced herself earlier in the week, her icy demeanor barely concealing the venom beneath.

"This is for my sister," Celeste hissed, her voice trembling with rage. "You and your kind ruin everything. You ruined her!"

Hermione furrow her brows: 'What are you talking about?'

'My sister, Liene! She's dead because of this bitch, your wife!'

Hermione barely had time to react before a curse flew toward her. She deflected it with a hasty Shield Charm, but the force sent her stumbling back, her bare feet slipping on the wet tiles.

The other students joined in, their wands flashing as they hurled hexes and curses in unison. Hermione retaliated, her movements sharp and precise despite the disadvantage of being outnumbered.

"You don't have to do this!" Hermione shouted, blocking another curse. "Your sister's death wasn't Fleur's fault!"

"Liar!" Celeste screamed, her face contorted with grief and fury. "She died because of the Delacours! And you dare to stand here, married into their family?"

A curse struck Hermione's side, sending a searing pain through her ribs. She gasped, stumbling against the wall as her wand slipped from her fingers. Blood dripped onto the pristine marble floor, the crimson staining the white tiles.

As Hermione struggled to stay upright, the bathroom door burst open. Gabrielle stood in the doorway, her wand raised and her face pale with fury.

"What are you doing?" Gabrielle demanded, her voice ringing with authority. "Attacking someone unarmed? Are you out of your minds?"

The students faltered, their wands lowering as Gabrielle strode into the room, her eyes blazing.

"Leave. Now," Gabrielle commanded, her Veela power radiating in the air.

Celeste hesitated, her glare fixed on Hermione, but eventually, she turned and stormed out, the others trailing behind her.

Gabrielle rushed to Hermione's side, her hands trembling as she helped her to her feet.

"Hermione, you're hurt," Gabrielle said, her voice shaking. "We need to get you to the healer."

"No," Hermione whispered, wincing as Gabrielle supported her weight. "Madame Maxime can't know."

Gabrielle's expression softened, but her determination didn't waver. "You're not alone, Hermione. I'll make sure you're safe."

As Gabrielle led her down the hall, Hermione leaned heavily against her, the pain in her body eclipsed by a surge of gratitude. Despite everything, she wasn't alone.

The wounds turned out to be more severe than they first looked. The worst was the wound on her forearm that had inflamed an old scar left by Bellatrix. The nurse couldn't heal it, even with Hermione's help and experience. The woman also had a deep gash on the left side of her waist that required frequent changes of bandages, and the brunette cursed inwardly that she would have to deceive Fleur so that she wouldn't find out about what had happened. She didn't want to burden her wife with another responsibility. It wasn't her fault that Celeste had taken revenge in this way. The Englishwoman returned home with relief, and with Gabrielle's help they teleported directly in front of the reserve and went to Cecile's cottage. 

Hermione fell heavily onto the bunk when Aurelie entered the house, raising her eyebrows in surprise. 'You're not going home? Fleur is expecting you. She had been babbling on to Cecile about what she was going to prepare for dinner since morning.' 

Aurelie said sarcastically, looking at the brunette. Seeing the dark circles under her eyes, she immediately went to her. 'What happened?' 'The purebloods attacked her in the baths.' Gabrielle explained, who had managed to prepare some stinking brew and gave it to Hermione. 'Here, this is to replenish the blood.' The woman took and swallowed the bitter drink, grimacing. 'What are your injuries?' 'It's nothing...' Hermione began, but Gabrielle immediately scoffed. 'Nothing! She has a bleeding wound on her side and a lacerated forearm.' 'Show me.' Aurelie ordered and Hermione obediently undressed. After a few minutes and diagnostic spells, the blonde spoke up. 'It will take a few days to stop the bleeding. You have several layers of nasty dark magic curses here.'

'That would be right. I didn't know most of the spells they cast. My shield spell wasn't enough.' The Englishwoman replied. 'There were about twenty of them and you resisted! Don't be so modest.' Gabrielle grinned. 'You are to come here every day to change the dressings. I will work out some counter-spells with Veelas magic by tomorrow.' Aurelie said sternly. 'Fine.' The brunette nodded. 'Fleur can't find out about this. Promise me. Both of you.' Hermione said seriously looking at both women. Both reluctantly agreed.