I'm technically supposed to be training for my karate belt test right now, but what the hell. Here's a short chapter. Hopefully it'll be a breath of fresh air from all the plot for you guys. I kinda need that break for myself too. I know the ending that I want for these two. It's just reaching there is a bit of a problem. Call me a sadist, but I want Hermione and Fleur to earn their happy ending.

Sometimes I catch myself writing original work and feel guilty for doing so. Charmed is still unfinished after all. I can't believe it has been 3 years already. I started this fic when I started uni, mostly to curb loneliness. So maybe I'll finish it in time for graduation? (Hahaha)

/rant

Chapter 13

Interlude

As soon as Harry and Ron left, Hermione settled herself on the sofa beside Fleur. Despite being only midday, Hermione felt drained. Fleur's state was not much different, with her shoulders hunched and elbows propped on her knees like they were the only things keeping her body from falling head-first into the cauldron.

Sensing her glance, Fleur tucked a lock of silver-blonde hair behind her ear and rose her head up to meet her eyes. A slight smile crept up to reassure her. That was enough for Hermione to know that she was fine. Still, in the midst of all this uncertainly, Hermione craved to give and to receive a more solid form of intimacy. She smoothed out her robe and patted her thigh. When Fleur blinked curiously at her gesture, she rolled her eyes and led Fleur down by the shoulders towards her lap.

Once Fleur fully unwound and sprawled across the sofa, Hermione fully relished the warm pressure of Fleur's head resting on her lap. She remembered the sensations of each and every time she felt Fleur's weight on her form. While all were great in their own rights, this was different. It's nothing to write home about with its chasteness, but the act itself was its own reward. Hermione let calming effect wash over her, relishing the complete lack of urgency. It was as if they exist in an isolated bubble of time where things remained static and they could, for the time being, feel at ease. With this seemingly infinite time, Hermione felt like she wanted to spoil her woman before her for as long as she will have her.

My woman, she tested out the concept in her mind and felt heat radiating from ear to ear as she had done so. Still, she loved the sound of it. Her fingers found the silver-blonde locks and began stroking along the length tenderly. Perhaps, long ways from now, this was what it will feel like when they were old and gray and their fiery passion tamed. No matter what was thrown at them, they would have each other.

If this is wrong, then I'll make it right, she decided.

The dark blue eyes gazed back at her, already half-closed with bliss. Hermione must have had a certain look on her face, for Fleur reached up to caress her cheek. The words that came only confirmed what Hermione already saw in her lover's eyes. "I love you too."

They rested happily, if only for a moment. Hermione kneaded the stress along Fleur's hairline till the soft moans of pleasure turned into light, paced breathing. She then nudged herself into a crook of the armrest and joined Fleur in sleep.

It was late afternoon when they found themselves reenergized. They went about their business, with Hermione pouring over series of tombs and texts and Fleur over her desk. No matter where she looked, Fleur still had no idea what "CCTV" or "Remington .45 ACP" meant.

All the while, Fleur would look from the parchment and towards the bedroom where Valerie was. When Hermione caught Fleur looking at the bedroom door again, she got up from the sofa, skipped over the piles, and nudged Fleur lightly.

"You two should talk."

Fleur glanced at the bedroom door before meeting her with furrowed brows. "I do not know what to say."

Landing a peck on the cheek, Hermione said: "I'm sure you already do."

Fleur slumped, resigned. She knew full well Hermione was right. She had been thinking long and hard about what to say to her cousin. But so many things to say and all in the wrong order in her mind. "Would you come with me?" she asked hopefully.

"You two need to sort yourselves out first. I'll be right outside, promise."

Fleur breathed in deeply. She got up from her chair and turned to look at Hermione. Then she saw it. That expression of complete trust that made her stood a little taller.

Hermione took this opportunity to send some courage with a light slap on one of Fleur's tight, sizable butt cheeks.

Despite obvious nervousness, a mischievous glint lit Fleur's eyes. "Save that for tonight."

"Of course." Hermione smiled. "But remember, it's not night yet."

The door opened and her cousin stepped through with uncertain steps.

Fleur scanned her features. "Can we talk?"

Uh oh. Valerie knew that face. Downcast eyes, overly straight back, and hands wrung to oblivion. It was the signature "I don't know how do this" dance. Granted, the list of things her cousin couldn't do was short, its contents separated by large spacing. Unfortunately, "approaching a sensitive subject" was one of them.

"Look at you, suddenly so shy. So unbecoming of a Delacour," teased Valerie. She patted her bedside with a bandaged hand weakly. "You know you can talk about anything with me."

Fleur then closed the distance and engulfed Valerie in a tight embrace. "I'm sorry for your loss, Val."

Valerie nodded numbly. Despite a series of naps, the Legilimency before had left her worse for wear. She felt raw, naked. But the hug hadn't hurt, at least. If things were left to her devices, she would have fled for somewhere more private. But, no. She owed it to her cousin to clarify things.

She began, slowly at first. "I should have told you earlier… About why I really came here. I wanted to be sure first. About Marc. About Master's death." Valerie gripped the fabric of her cousin's shirt. "And now I know."

"I'm just glad he didn't kill you." Fleur's voice shook from holding back the floodgates. "I was really scared for you. I wish you would have told me sooner. I could have helped. We could have."

Valerie shrunk at this. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to pull you into my personal drama."

With her most emotions having been unleashed, Fleur settled back on her side of the bed. She clasped her cousin's hands silently. "That's what family is for."

Hermione sipped her tea. She pried herself away from the open pages to note the stark silence of the place and, more importantly, of the bedroom just beyond the door behind her. She had three scenarios in mind. First, things were going well and her lover was having a proper talk with her cousin. Second, a fight broke out, likely due to Valerie's stubborn refusal to just up and out with it. Third, one of the cousins, or both, was by now crying. Regardless, she speculated that she won't be able to hear a peep through the door due to Fleur's silencing charm.

She addressed Crookshanks as he lay curled at her feet. "If only you could go in there and check on them," she said wistfully.

Crookshanks' only sign of acknowledgement was to lift his head up slightly, before settling down again. It's alright. Stop worrying, he seemed to say.

Hermione sighed, conceding defeat. "Your lack of stress is the stuff of legends."

Her pet flicked his tail lazily against her legs, disregarding her snark. Hermione rolled her eyes and went back to the page before her. "Cultivation of Origanum dictamnus in the Isles: History and Guide," she muttered as her eyes followed the heading. If Valerie was going to recover completely and quickly, she knew they were going to need a lot more dittany. She flipped through the pages, hoping to find a directory of shops.

Two slender arms pulled her from behind and hugged her tight, breaking her preoccupation. Hermione yelped in surprise, then settled into the crook of the older woman's shoulder and happily received the peck on her cheek.

"It went well, I take it."

Fleur mumbled in her ear. "Uhhuh."

Fleur's voice was almost… nasal. Hermione turned to look at her lover, not that it did much good. From where her head was, she could only see the quarter-veela's smooth neck and streams of silvery hair. Another sniffle.

Hermione narrowed her eyes in disbelief. "Were you crying?"

The question elicited a guilty sniffle and a shifty glance from Fleur. "Nonsense. I do not cry."

"Riiiight. And I'm currently wearing a mermaid-hair tutu."

Fleur's head quickly shifted down at that, eager to catch a glimpse. "Are you?" Her voice was incredulous.

Hermione playfully swatted the interlocked hands in front of her. "Nope. Still a robe. Sorry to disappoint."

"Have you ever worn one?"

"What? A tutu?" Hermione leaned back into Fleur's leaning shoulder and recalled the one time her mother thought it had been a good idea to pull her from her books and got her to join a ballet class. It had been an attempt to get her to "come out of her shell", perhaps. Even as a child, she typically kept to herself and preferred to gawk at books than toys or boys. She was young then and it was the sort of things parents typically do. To this day, she still cringed at the thought and continued to cringe even now. "Once. What about you?"

"No. It is poufy and inelegant. An embarrassment to wear." Despite how Fleur's voice was lithe in teasing, Hermione huffed. "Speaking of embarrassment, do you have a photograph of it?"

Hermione gave it a thought. She had fully restored all traces of her in her childhood home when she gave her parents back their memories. It had been the little things, like old photographs, toys, and books. One that might stand out in particular was a broken wooden bookshelf situated in attic with a carving "For little Hermione" to its lower left side. The shelf had broken down when she was nine from the sheer amount of books piled onto it, but no one had the heart to throw it away. "Probably somewhere back in my parents' house," she concluded.

Fleur's voice was light with glee. "Now this I need to see."

"That's not fair! What about your embarrassing photos?"

"I always look fabulous. Always." If Fleur was not hugging her, Hermione was sure her lover would have twirled for added effect.

Hermione laughed at Fleur's mock-serious indignation and leaned to plant a peck on the older woman's neck. "No arguments there," she said. "But I'll still make it my life's work to find one."

Fleur groaned in mock protest. "Of all the things to choose to get serious over… And with Horliner still out there too."

Hermione clasped her lover's hands firmly. "They'll get him. I know they will."

It was a calm night for the both of them. Sure, they couldn't use the bed because Valerie was currently in deep sleep and that they had to take rounds to tend to her wounds. But any unease to the change of their routine was washed away in intervals by frequent time on the sofa. When Fleur started to fret again and was promptly chased out by Valerie hours ago, her time on the sofa was permanent for the night.

Hermione patted Fleur's sulking face. Her cheeks were starting to balloon until Hermione smoothed them over. "You can't rush healing," she coaxed.

"We are witches. I would like to think that we can."

"We can help shorten the process. The rest, we leave to nature."

The pout broke and Fleur grinned weakly. The sense of silliness and self-admonition started to wash over her. "Sometimes I forget that you are younger than me," she said.

As Hermione remembered it, their age gap was roughly a two years difference. "You help me finish my black pudding, so you're the mature one by far."

"I just think of it as a more bland version of boudin. Not a fair comparison, really." Fleur shrugged. "Oh. Valerie asked if admitting her to a hospital would be a good idea. You know, before she chased me out."

Hermione gave it a thought. "It would, now that she's stable enough to relocate. And if he hasn't followed her here by now, he probably won't. If he does eventually, at least St. Mungo's is secure enough. Why? Does she want to?"

"She said something about… 'getting out of our hair' so we can 'fuck like rabbits'. I think that is the closest I can translate to English." Fleur chuckled.

Hermione failed to fight off the temptation to roll her eyes. "Injured and still gutter-minded."

The quarter-veela's face pushed close and her eyes gleamed with mischief. "Still, that was accurate, no?"

Hermione leaned closer to meet her lover for a peck. An amused grin crossed her face as she pulled away to get a better look of the older woman. Even with the slightly puffy eyes from the crying before and the now-late night, Fleur looked positively delicious. Down, girl, she ordered her libido.

After a moment, Hermione managed to find self-restraint and deadpanned: "Sure. We also shop for groceries together, but no one ever mentions that."

Fleur giggled. "Oh, yes. Bickering over the cereal aisle. How scandalous."

"We kiss and make up and decide to get both kinds in the end." Hermione pointed towards the kitchen for added effect. "Is that scandalous?"

"No," said Fleur as she scooped Hermione close by the shoulder. Lips to ear, she whispered: "But how you mentioned that you would like to lick honey off my body definitely went straight to that territory."

Hermione blushed. "That was one time. One. Such is the punishment for being so bold."

Fleur fanned herself with a hand in mock-serious. "Pray that we don't try it in the store. Merlin forbid someone we know might see. Someone like Ginny, who I remember to be not such a big fan of mine."

Hermione thought about Ginny, imagined her friend's reaction, and groaned. "Don't jinx it. She's not around much because of Quidditch, but don't expect peace and quiet from now on. If Harry and Ron knows about us, it's only a matter of time before she comes storming."

That got Fleur laughing. "It seems strong reactions tend to run in the Weasleys."

Hermione laughed in agreement. "Be scared. Be very scared."

They took a moment to gather their sides. Then Hermione got the conversation going again, but away from Ginny's possible overreaction. "What about your family? They seem normal enough." Hermione remembered seeing Fleur's parents during her now-lover's and Bill's wedding, but she wasn't going to be the one to bring that part up.

Fleur's face crinkled in thought. "They are, aside from my father's love for unconventional nature walks. 'No magic', he would say." When Hermione gave her a confused look, Fleur added. "My grandfather was muggle-born. My father grew up with such walks and saw it fit to carry on the tradition. We would have too-large bags without any charms to help us. Gabby would get tired and I would carry her bag also."

That made sense why Fleur never bought the idea of the so-called blood purity, Hermione noted. Still, she had Fleur's grandfather to thank for Fleur's fine physique. "Do you like them? The walks, I mean."

A light smile graced Fleur's features. "I think I like them. They were tiring, but I got to see things I normally would not see. And it feels good to move around once in a while. Then again, it really does depend on the company."

Hermione felt her lover's hand on top of hers and saw the invitation in her eyes. Just when she thought Fleur has shown her all of her affectionate side, her lover never ceased to surprise. And that growing smile that matched her own was making Hermione jittery under the robes.

Hermione swallowed hard and tried hard to gather her thoughts. It would be so easy to fall in love with this woman all over again. "So it's a date?" she choked.

Fleur began running her thumb across Hermione's knuckles. Her dark blue eyes spoke of a deeper need, the kind that made Hermione wonder if they were still talking about nature walks. The hand on top of hers felt warmer by the seconds. The words that came out of her lover's mouth were soft yet tempered with passion: "It is one if you want it to be."

Hermione found her breath caught as she took in the shy yet unflinching lover before her. "I do. So where will we go? Is it a day trip or are we going to camp there?"

Fleur broke into a huge smile, seemingly glad that she said yes. "Anywhere you are most comfortable with. You know the area better than I do. And it can be a day trip if you like. This is all just planning. So we can have something to look forward to once everything has calmed down."

Something to look forward to. Hermione must admit she liked the sound of that. She thought long and hard about the few places she knew and the few times she had ever gone camping. Only one place came to mind. A place full of memories, old and new, kind and painful. Perhaps, she decided, it was time for the pain to be overwritten. Hermione met Fleur's gaze squarely and full of hope. "I think I know where we can go."

Ten (nerd) points for those who can guess where Hermione has in mind.