Part 20

FLEUR POV

Fleur sat on the edge of their bed, her fingers absently tracing the embroidered edge of the duvet as Hermione slept beside her. The moonlight spilling through the window softened the lines of her wife's face, but it did nothing to soften the knot of guilt twisting in Fleur's chest.

Hermione had opened herself to her, stripping away the barriers she'd built over months. Fleur could feel her now—the warmth of her love, the pain of her regrets, the unrelenting determination that made her who she was. It was overwhelming, this flood of emotion, and yet Fleur couldn't bring herself to look away.

The bond was louder now, almost tangible in its insistence. It didn't just pull; it roared, demanding she meet Hermione fully, completely. For once, Fleur didn't resist.

She reached out, brushing a lock of hair from Hermione's face. "You have no idea how much you mean to me, ma lionne," she whispered, though she knew Hermione couldn't hear her.

Then she heard soft knocking at the door. It was early morning.

Fleur slipped out of bed carefully, pulling on a robe as she left the room. The house was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the floorboards beneath her feet. She paused in front of Victoire's door, looking at her daughter who was sleeping peacefully.

She opened the front door to find herself face to face with Gabrielle, who looked disheveled, with her hair flying and worried eyes. "Gabrielle, what's wrong?" Fleur asked quickly pulling her sister inside by the hand. "Is everything okay with you? I heard from mom what Aurelie did, I just got back from the Academy." "It's okay." Fleur smiled at her sister. "Unless you're disappointed that my wife is still mine? Do you have hots for Hermione too?" "She's delicious, I admit, but no... I treat her like a sister now. I was worried about you two..." Gabrielle looked embarrassed and seemed to suddenly realize that she had been talking to Fleur alone for a few years. "Will you come in for tea?" The older sister asked gently. "I don't know if I should." Gabrielle looked hesitant and uncertain. "It's just tea." Fleur laughed lightly, pulling her sister by the hand into the kitchen. She started preparing a drink, and Gabrielle sat at the table, watching her in silence. 'Remember how we used to sneak out in the morning to make hot chocolate before mom got up?' Fleur asked lightly, recalling the waves of laughter that would wash over them when Apolline caught them almost every time and cursed them for not being able to drink chocolate before breakfast. 'Oh yeah... she still hides chocolate somewhere, always changing places so I wouldn't find it.' Gabrielle smiled mischievously. Fleur sat down opposite her, handing her a hot mug. 'I wanted to thank you.' Fleur said warmly. 'For taking care of Hermione in Beauxbaton. It could have ended differently if it wasn't for you.' Gabrielle nodded seriously. 'I've already told you that she's like a sister to me.' 'Better than my own, I guess?' FLeur said, her words leaving a bitter taste on her tongue. 'I've been understanding your motives more and more lately, Fleur...school now, the way they treat us...it seemed trivial to me as a child...but now...' Gabrielle shook her head, taking a sip. '...now I understand a little bit why you wanted to disown us. That doesn't mean I forgive you for running off with that idiot Weasley, but I do understand a little...' Gabrielle hesitated, swirling her tea as if gathering her thoughts. Then she looked up at Fleur, her expression serious: 'You left a lot of pieces behind when you decided to cut ties with... well, us."

Fleur sighed, setting her own cup down. "I know I did. And I'm trying to pick them up now. But I need you to tell me how I can make it right, Gabby."

Gabrielle blinked, clearly not expecting such directness. She leaned back in her chair, studying Fleur with a critical eye. "I don't know if it's something you can fix, Fleur. It's not like I can just give you a checklist and—voilà—you're forgiven."

"Then what do you want from me?" Fleur asked, her voice tinged with frustration but also genuine curiosity.

Gabrielle tilted her head, thinking for a moment. "I guess I want... honesty. The real you. Not the polished, perfect Fleur everyone at Beauxbatons admired or the version of you that ran away to England. Just you. The sister who used to laugh at silly jokes and stay up late telling me stories."

Fleur looked down, her fingers tracing the rim of her mug. "I don't know if I remember how to be that person. It feels like so many lifetimes ago."

"She's still in there," Gabrielle said softly. "I caught glimpses of her when I was at Hogwarts. You were... different with Hermione. Like you weren't trying so hard to be someone else."

Fleur smiled faintly. "Hermione never lets me get away with pretending. She sees through me too easily."

Gabrielle laughed lightly. "Sounds exhausting."

"It's... freeing, actually," Fleur admitted. "But it's also terrifying. With her, there's no mask to hide behind. Just me."

Gabrielle nodded, her expression softening. "Maybe that's why it works. She loves the real you. Not the one you thought you had to be."

Fleur reached across the table, taking Gabrielle's hand. "And you? Can you love the real me again, Gabby? Even after everything?"

Gabrielle's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but she smiled. "I never stopped, Fleur. You're my sister. Annoying, frustrating, and occasionally unbearable, but still my sister."

Fleur laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "And you're my bratty little sister. Always keeping me at my toes."

Gabrielle chuckled, standing and pulling Fleur into a hug. "Don't mess this up, Fleur. You've got something good here—with Hermione, with Victoire. Don't let the past ruin it."

"I won't," Fleur promised, her voice steady. "I'm done running."

Gabrielle stepped back, her eyes sparkling. "Good. Because I'm done chasing you."

As she made her way to the door, Gabrielle turned back with a cheeky grin. "By the way, if you ever decide Hermione needs a real Frenchwoman in her bed..."

"Gabby!" Fleur shouted, laughing despite herself as she playfully swatted her sister's arm.

Gabrielle winked. "Just kidding. Mostly."

Fleur shook her head, smiling as she watched her sister disappear down the path. For the first time in a long while, she felt like she had a chance to truly rebuild what she thought was lost.

When Fleur finally returned to her bedroom, Hermione was awake, sitting up against the headboard with a book in her lap. She looked up as Fleur entered, a soft smile playing on her lips.

"Couldn't sleep?" Hermione asked.

Fleur climbed back into bed, pulling the blankets over herself. "I was thinking talking to Gabrielle."

Hermione tilted her head, curious. "About what?"

"About being better," Fleur said simply. She hesitated before reaching out, taking Hermione's hand in hers. "I've spent so long running from myself, Hermione. From my Veela, from my past, from the people I love. But you've shown me that I don't have to. That I shouldn't."

Hermione set the book aside, turning fully toward Fleur. "You've always been enough, Fleur. Even when you didn't believe it."

Fleur leaned forward, resting her forehead against Hermione's. "I don't deserve you."

"Stop saying that," Hermione murmured, brushing her lips against Fleur's. "We deserve each other. That's the whole point, isn't it? The bond wouldn't exist if we weren't meant to face everything together."

Fleur closed her eyes, letting Hermione's words settle deep within her. For the first time in years, she felt truly seen, truly known.

And for the first time, she let herself believe she was enough.

'I've been thinking...' The brunette began, moving closer to Fleur. '...maybe it's time...' She pulled the straps off Fleur's nightgown until it slid down, revealing the blonde's shapely breasts. '...for Victoire to have a sibling...?'