Part 12

HERMIONE

The week after Hermione's return to the reserve felt like walking a tightrope, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating. Fleur's jealousy was a constant storm cloud, ready to burst at the smallest provocation. Aurelie's presence, warm and unyielding, only made matters worse. Victoire, blissfully unaware of the turmoil around her, was the sole source of peace in Hermione's fractured world.

Hermione awoke to Victoire's small hands tugging at her hair. The toddler's giggles filled the room, a balm for Hermione's frayed nerves.

"Mama, wake up!" Victoire chirped, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

Hermione smiled despite the heaviness in her chest. She pulled Victoire into her arms, kissing her chubby cheeks. "Good morning, my little troublemaker."

Hermione found herself wandering the garden with Victoire. The little girl toddled ahead, chasing butterflies and picking wildflowers. Hermione watched her daughter with a bittersweet smile, the weight of her thoughts pressing down on her.

"She's beautiful," Aurelie's voice broke through Hermione's reverie.

Hermione turned to see Aurelie standing a few feet away, her expression soft. "She is," Hermione replied, her tone guarded.

Aurelie stepped closer, her hands tucked into her pockets. "I meant what I said, Hermione. You deserve better."

Hermione frowned. "And you think you're better?"

Aurelie's smile was sad. "I think I'd never take you for granted. Fleur... she's always been reckless. She doesn't know how to cherish what she has until it's slipping through her fingers."

Hermione's chest tightened. She looked away, focusing on Victoire as the toddler picked a daisy. "I'm not sure I can trust her again."

Aurelie's hand brushed against Hermione's arm, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down her spine. "Then don't force yourself to. You have options, Hermione. You're not trapped."

Hermione pulled her arm away, stepping back. "This isn't appropriate, Aurelie. Whatever your issues with Fleur are, don't drag me into them."

Aurelie's expression darkened. "She doesn't deserve you," she said before walking away, leaving Hermione feeling more conflicted than ever.

That evening, Hermione found Fleur in the study, pacing like a caged animal. The moment Hermione entered, Fleur's eyes snapped to her, blazing with jealousy and desperation.

"What were you doing with Aurelie?" Fleur demanded, her voice low and dangerous.

Hermione's temper flared. "She approached me. I didn't ask for her attention, Fleur."

Fleur's hands clenched into fists. "She's trying to take you from me."

Hermione scoffed. "You don't need Aurelie's help for that. You're doing a fine job on your own."

Fleur's expression crumpled, her anger giving way to pain. "I'm trying, Hermione. I'm trying to fix this, but you won't let me in."

Hermione's voice broke. "Because I don't know if I can. You hurt me, Fleur. You broke my trust, and every time I look at you, I'm reminded of it."

Fleur stepped closer, her hands trembling. "Tell me what to do. Tell me how to make it right."

Hermione shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "I don't know if you can."

The next morning, Apolline came to their house and found Hermione in the kitchen, staring blankly at a cup of tea. She sat down beside her, placing a gentle hand on her arm.

"You're struggling," Apolline said softly.

Hermione nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what to do."

Apolline's gaze was kind but firm. "Fleur has made mistakes, but she loves you. And love, Hermione, is never without pain. The question is, can you find it in your heart to forgive her?"

Hermione's throat tightened. "What if she hurts me again?"

Apolline's grip on her arm tightened briefly. "That is a risk we all take in love."

Hermione swallowed hard, the weight of Apolline's words settling over her. Could she take that risk? Could she open herself up to the possibility of pain again?

Days turned into weeks, and the tension in the house grew unbearable. Hermione avoided Aurelie and kept her interactions with Fleur minimal, focusing instead on Victoire. But the distance was taking its toll, and Hermione knew she couldn't continue like this.

One evening, after putting Victoire to bed, Hermione found Fleur sitting in the garden, staring up at the stars. She hesitated before joining her, the silence stretching between them.

"I don't know if I can forgive you," Hermione said finally, her voice barely audible.

Fleur turned to her, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "But you're willing to try?"

Hermione looked away, her heart pounding. "I don't know. But I can't keep running from this. From us."

Hermione closed her eyes, the weight of the decision pressing down on her. For the first time in weeks, she allowed herself to hope—just a little—that maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other.

FLEUR POV

Fleur knew that grand gestures wouldn't fix what she had broken. So, she focused on the small things. She cooked Hermione's favorite meals, she sometimes took Victoire to the forest to give Hermione quiet moments alone and made sure to keep her temper in check, even when Aurelie deliberately provoked her.

One evening, Fleur found Hermione sitting by the fire, a book in her hands. She hesitated, then sat down across from her, keeping a respectful distance.

"Would you like tea?" Fleur asked softly.

Hermione looked up, surprised by the offer. "That would be nice, thank you."

Fleur returned with two steaming cups, placing one carefully in front of Hermione. They sat in silence for a while, the crackling of the fire filling the room.

'I'm sorry about the situation with Aurelie. I know you tried to be together when this thing with Bill happened. I'm sorry I exposed Victoire to a werewolf. I'm sorry I rejected you all these years, Hermione...' The Englishwoman was silent, slowly drinking her tea. Fleur watched her from the side as she frowned, rubbed her face and put the cup down. 'Is there anything more I should know about this Liene? Were there any more lovers in your life after you found out I was your mate? Just tell me the truth.' The brunette asked, looking out the living room window at the forest covering itself in the darkness of the evening. Fleur closed her eyes. How could she undo what she was about to say? But she couldn't lie any longer. 'There were many people like that... I can't give you an exact number.' She whispered. Hermione clenched her fists until they turned white. 'Why?'

'Because it was my way to forget you... or so I thought. My Veela was driving me crazy, she wanted to come back to you... And then I met Bill again... the rest you know.'

'Only her, right? So while I was waiting for any letter, any gesture from you wondering what was wrong with me... you were taking up time sleeping with different people... oh god... maybe it was better to kill a werewolf than stay in this relationship with you... what is wrong with you?' Hermione screamed at the end, her eyes red with anger and tears.

Fleur felt all of her emotions - anger, disappointment, jealousy, betrayal... She felt like she was about to throw up. Her Veela was screaming at her inside, trying to tear her apart in her mind, feeling the pain of her mate, inflicted by her. Fleur tried to get up, but suddenly she saw only blackness and emotions so strong that her body cut off access to them. She fell to the floor. Unconscious.

HERMIONEPOV

The house felt unnaturally quiet. For all its size, the silence seemed to press down on Hermione, suffocating her. She sat by Fleur's bedside, her hands clenched into fists in her lap as she stared at the pale, motionless form on the bed. Cecile had called it a Veela collapse, triggered by an overload of emotional stress and internal conflict. She assured Hermione that Fleur would recover in time, but that did little to ease the knot of guilt in her chest.

This was her fault.

"Why couldn't you just... be better?" Hermione muttered under her breath, anger rising to meet the guilt swirling inside her.

Her voice cracked, and she pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle the sob that threatened to escape. She hated this – hated feeling so torn between fury and worry, between wanting to hold Fleur and wanting to scream at her.

A soft knock at the door drew her attention.

"It's me," Aurelie said, stepping into the room with her usual air of calm. She carried a tray with tea and a plate of biscuits, setting it down on the small table by the window. "You've been here all day. You need to eat something."

"I'm not hungry," Hermione replied curtly, but her stomach betrayed her with a low growl.

Aurelie raised an eyebrow, her smirk faint but present. "You can be stubborn, but I'm worse. Sit."

Hermione didn't have the energy to argue. She allowed Aurelie to press a steaming cup into her hands and sat back in the chair, her eyes still fixed on Fleur.

"She looks so fragile," Hermione said quietly. "I've never seen her like this."

"She's strong," Aurelie replied, her voice gentler than Hermione expected. "But even Fleur has limits."

The words stung, a reminder of how much Fleur had been carrying on her shoulders – and how much Hermione had added to that burden.

Over the next few days, Hermione found herself leaning more and more on Aurelie, despite her initial reluctance. Aurelie had a knack for knowing when to push and when to back off, offering comfort without smothering. She would bring meals to Hermione when she forgot to eat, or sit quietly with Victoire, keeping the little girl entertained so Hermione could have a moment to breathe.

It was during one of those quiet moments, with Victoire napping in her lap, that Hermione finally allowed herself to open up.

"I feel like I've failed her," Hermione admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Aurelie, seated across from her, leaned forward slightly. "How so?"

"I wanted to hold her accountable," Hermione said, her fingers brushing through Victoire's soft curls. "For everything she's done, everything she's put me through. But maybe I pushed too hard. Maybe I should have..." She trailed off, shaking her head.

"Stopped being Hermione?" Aurelie finished for her, a teasing note in her voice.

Hermione frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're not the type to sit quietly and let things slide," Aurelie said. "And Fleur knew that when she chose you. She doesn't need someone who'll coddle her – she needs someone who'll challenge her, hold her accountable. But..."

"But?" Hermione prompted, her tone wary.

"But maybe it wouldn't hurt to balance the fire with a little warmth," Aurelie said. "As much as I hate this, I must say Fleur loves you, Hermione. She's made a mess of things, yes. I think if you're not willing to meet her halfway, what's the point of all this?"

Hermione didn't have an answer for that.

'I just... I can't stand that she would choose anyone other than me. It hurts knowing that she so easily betrayed me. How can I be sure that she is not with me now just because of this stupid bond and only because of Victoire? Everything which she said is standing against her own action!'