Author's Note: This story has been in my mind for quite sometime and I finally had the courage to write it down on my work break. I wrote pages but finally had time tonight to type some of it. I am looking for a beta who likes the FD/HG pairing so if you know anyone please let me know. Umm.. I don't know if I'll continue with it.. Just thought it was worth a read. -Shrugs-
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Hold on to your love, it might not be coming back -Griffin House
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Day 5, Week 1, Fall Term
I. TGIF (THANK GOD IT'S FRIDAY!)
All of the students were glued to watching the train wreck that was happening right in front of them. Hogwart's top student was taking on the most beautiful professor the school has ever had and on top of it she was intelligent as well. Fleur Delacour never would have assumed that the fire in those chocolate orbs piercing through her at the moment could ever contain so much rage. She knew that the war against Voldemort had change the normally quiet student but never in a million years would she think to see anger reach the depth of despair.
"You sit in front of us wrapped in your air of authority and teach that dark magic can be fought with just a matter of a wand flick and counter-curse. You fail to mention the incantations that are unbreakable and unforgiving that can mar a soul Ms. Delacour, not a body. So please, stand up on your soap box and tell us how to fix a soul that has been ripped from your body or tortured until the body becomes a prison." She looked around the classroom that had grown silent since the debate had started as if deciding on whether or not to go further in her speech, but chose the latter. "Tell us how to simply fix Neville's parents..."
And just like that any air that was left in the room was sucked up by the all at once intake of breath needed by the students who were holding it since Hermione's speech. She had dared to say the things that many just thought about or said in a room dark and filled with no one. But can what had been said be forgiven no matter how truthful and hurtful it was to other wizards?
That question would not be answered for as if on cue the clock struck 12 meaning the fancy carriage had turned into a miserable pumpkin again and class was dismissed. Everyone rushed out as if a fire was close to overtaking the classroom, but only one brave soul decided to slowly pack her bag neatly before exiting.
Fleur fixed Hermione with a curious stare as she let a million thoughts shoot through her mind all at once. Its a scary and exhilarating feeling to not know how you feel about a particular person or thought, but as a teacher she learned that she had to put all of her opinions aside to hand out fact on a platter best served cold.
The fact was that she had watched Hermione since the day she came back to the school to finish off her last year. The once knowledge driven young girl who eyes were filled with a nervous energy to learn more of the unknown had taken a drastic turn into darkness. No, Hermione had seen darkness not with her eyes closed but wide open and wand at the ready.
It wasn't the glorified battle that are written in epic tales, no on the contrary, innocent people had been slaughtered. How do anyone come to reason with that horrible truth?
As Hermione packed her bag ever so slowly with loose parchment and quills it seemed as if she was waiting almost hoping for Fleur to speak up. It was a simple attempt to draw her professor into faltering or just maybe Hermione was giving Fleur a lifeline with the choice of normalcy. She was going to let Fleur exit gracefully from the room as she normally done everyday and be able to walk away from a messy situation with no thought later of it.
At that thought Hermione bit back a bitter smile, for she had wished to be given the choice of walking away and leaving all of those terrible nightmares that lingered in the corners of her mind gone forever. Why could it not all be that simple?
The dark haired woman looked up to see her professor sitting at the desk with her head resting on her palm while she stared out of the window. It was a gloomy day indeed with grey clouds but for some reason it fit the mood well. For just a moment, the old Hermione peeked through and felt terrible for treating Fleur bad on her first week of teaching. Hermione shook her head lightly that sent the mass of dark hair to flow lovely down her back.
As if not to disturb the perfect picture Fleur made with the pensive stare through the window, Hermione walked quietly to the door and touched the door knob. Unfortunately, the strength was not there for her to turn it and as she turned her head back to take one more look at the picture that was worth a thousand words she knew it would be regretted.
Fleur heard the light foot steps edging towards the door as she counted each one in her mind. She didn't want to leave the room and just let whatever discussion that had taken place just minutes earlier be wiped away completely. Those challenging words left by her student deserved to be met with truth unlike any other. This truth would reveal everything without the burdens of political correctness or fear of causing emotional distress.
In finding strength at the last thought that occurred in her mind, Fleur turned her gaze from her window to the retreating back of her student. It then struck her on how much Hermione had changed since the last time she saw her at the Weasley's Burrow. Of course at the time Hermione was simply a smart young girl that had not the experience to back up the knowledge. Experience is a dreadful illusion breaker.
She watched Hermione touch the door knob but didn't turn it that's when her breath caught in her throat at the thought of a round two. Fleur willed her gaze to stay on Hermione no matter how nervous her body felt and when she turned around to lay those deep brown eyes onto her pair of baby blue she thought the world was about to end.
No it wasn't the magical experience read in books of hearing the waters of heaven crush upon the rocks or the sweet melody of an angel's voice to alert one of their destiny. It was fate showing it's three-headed self and it sent a jolt of desire and fear through her Veela form.
A light blush crept into Hermione's cheeks as if she did not expect Fleur to be staring at her as she left. It took only a second for Hermione to regain her wits and say whatever it was that she had planned to before she walked away.
Hermione cleared her throat and kept an unwavering stare into Fleur's eyes as she spoke, "Cheer up it is the weekend now. And good job on your first week here." There was a pause between the sentences but it was small and Hermione had hoped that Fleur read nothing into it for she was speaking sincerely no matter how forced it sounded.
She didn't allow Fleur the chance to respond as she left the room and all that was heard as an answer was the click of the door from being closed. Hermione was no coward by any means, but she didn't want to talk to Fleur. She would not allow herself to be swayed by those questioning eyes and lips soft for cushioning the truth.
Fleur stared at the closed door with her mouth gaped open as if words were flowing out of it silently. It all happened too fast, no that's an understatement. Life happens too fast. But she had both of hands open to catch it but it didn't fall where she predicted it to and what a disappointment that made.
She understood the contempt that Hermione carried about life but she didn't understand the attitude she held towards her. The pause in the short speech shown all the signs of being forced and it caused Fleur to be taking aback. Was she angry at the fact that she called off the wedding although it was a mutual agreement with Bill? Or was it really a simple reason not to be over analyzed?
Rubbing her eyes with her fingertips she gave up trying to understand, and decided to pack her suitcase. She grabbed her wand and tucked it under the arm she was holding the suitcase then walked out of the classroom. Fleur stopped in the doorway and took a long look at the classroom but she did not close the door and leave all of the problems trapped inside. No, she left it open and gave it the choice to linger or walk away.
It was the weekend after all.
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A/N: I know an angry Hermione. No scratch that a very angry Hermione, now that sounds better. War changes people and I wanted to see how it would affect her and this is what I've come up with so here u go. Reviews would be great.